It is _Justices_ Friend, she will it commend, For all is here served by _measure_ and _tale_; Now, _true-tale_ and _good measure_ are _Justices_ treasure, And much to the praise of a _pot of good ale_. And next I alledge, it is _Fortitudes_ edge[,] For a very Cow-heard, that shrinks like a Snaile, Will swear and will swagger, and out goes his Dagger, If he be but arm’d with a _pot of good ale_. Yea, ALE hath her _Knights_ and _Squires_ of Degree, That never wore Corslet, nor yet shirts of Maile, But have fought their fights all, twixt the pot and the wall, When once they were dub’d with a _pot of good ale_. And sure it will make a man suddenly _wise_, Er’e-while was scarce able to tell a right tale: It will open his jaw, he will tell you the _Law_, As make a right _Bencher_ of a _pot of good ale_. Or he that will make a _bargain_ to gain, In _buying_ or _setting_ his goods forth to _sale_, Must not plod in the mire, but sit by the fire, And seale up his Match with a _pot of good ale_. But for _Soberness_, needs must I confess, The matter goes hard; and few do prevaile Not to go too deep, but _temper_ to keep, Such is the _Attractive_ of a _pot of good ale_. But here’s an amends, which will make all Friends, And ever doth tend to the best availe: If you take it too deep, it will make you but sleep; So comes no great harm of a _pot of good ale_. If (reeling) they happen to fall to the ground, The fall is not great, they may hold by the Raile: If into the water, they cannot be drown’d, For that gift is given to a _pot of good ale_. If drinking about they chance to fall out, Fear not that _Alarm_, though flesh be but fraile; It will prove but some blowes, or at most a bloody nose, And Friends again straight with a _pot of good ale_. And _Physic_ will favour ALE, as it is bound, And be against _Beere_ both tooth and naile; They send up and down, all over the town To get for their Patients a _pot of good ale_. Their _Ale-berries_, _cawdles_, and _Possets_ each one, And _Syllabubs_ made at the Milking-pale, Although they be many, _Beere_ comes not in any, But all are composed with a _pot of good ale_. And in very deed the _Hop’s_ but a Weed, Brought o’re against Law, and here set to sale: Would the Law were renew’d, and no more _Beer_ brew’d, But all men betake them to a _Pot of good ale_. The _Law_ that will take it under his wing, For, at every _Law-day_, or _Moot of the hale_, One is sworn to serve our _Soveraigne_ the KING, In the ancient _Office_ of a CONNER of ALE. There’s never a Lord of _Mannor_ or of a Town, By strand or by land, by hill or by dale, But thinks it a _Franchise_, and a _Flow’r_ of the CROWN, To hold the _Assize_ of a _pot of good ale_.