University of Virginia Library

An Epistle to Master Arth: Squib.

What I am not, and what I faine would be,
Whilst I informe my selfe, I would teach thee,
My gentle Arthur; that it might be said
One lesson we have both learn'd, and well read;
I neither am, nor art thou one of those
That hearkens to a Jacks-pulse, when it goes.
Nor ever trusted to that friendship yet
Was issue of the Taverne, or the Spit:
Much lesse a name would we bring up, or nurse,
That could but claime a kindred from the purse.
Those are poore Ties, depend on those false ends,
'Tis vertue alone, or nothing that knits friends:
And as within your Office, you doe take
No piece of money, but you know, or make
Inquirie of the worth: So must we doe,
First weigh a friend, then touch, and trie him too:
For there are many slips, and Counterfeits.
Deceit is fruitfull. Men have Masques and nets,
But these with wearing will themselves unfold:
They cannot last. No lie grew ever old.
Turne him, and see his Threds: looke, if he be
Friend to himselfe, that would be friend to thee.
For that is first requir'd, A man be his owne.
But he that's too-much that, is friend of none.
Then rest, and a friends value understand
It is a richer Purchase then of land.