A pleasant new Dialogue:
OR,
The discourse between the Serving-man and the Husband-man.
The lofty pride must bated bee,
And praise must goe in right degree.
To the tune of, I have for all good wives a Song.
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AS I went through the meddowes greene,
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that are most lovely to be seene,
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I heard two men in great discourse
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o[f] many things better or worse:
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The one a Serving-man, and he
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stood much upon his bravery:
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The other was a Husbandman,
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which no man speake against him can.
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The Serving-mans speech.
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I am a Serving-man thats fine,
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and feed on dainties, and drinke wine,
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I am for Ladies company,
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who can have pleasures more than I?
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I have the love of Maidens faire,
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that are their Parents onely heire,
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Although they goe in garments gay,
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with me theyl yeeld to sport and play.
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The Plough-man.
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Though you in garments goe most brave,
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yet you must yeeld to what I crave,
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No serving-man shall make me yeeld,
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Ile shew the cause whereon I build.
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A Servingman cannot come nie
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to that which I will verifie:
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A young Serving-man may compare
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to be an old beggar mans heire.
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The Serving-man.
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I wait on Ladies, Lords, and Knights,
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where pleasure flowes with much delights,
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My time I spend with Venus Nymphs,
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whose features rare desire attempts.
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We Serving-men have pleasure at will:
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and Plough-men they have labour still,
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Then how can they with us compare,
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seeing we have pleasure, and they have care?
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The Plough-man.
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Though you in pleasure do exceed,
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who is it that doth serve your need?
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You might goe pine and starve with want,
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then at a Plough-man do not tant.
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We till the ground which brings increase,
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and all would lack if we should cease.
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Such bragging Jacks might doe full ill,
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then to a Plough-man yeeld thee skill.
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The Serving-man.
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Our parell many times is silke,
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our shirts as white as any milke,
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Our fare is of the very best,
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and that which is most neatly drest.
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And often when we sup or dine,
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we taste a dainty cup of wine:
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Our Masters Cellars yeeld good beere,
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and in his Hall we finde good cheare.
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The Plough-man.
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Tis true: there many goes in silke,
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and have their linnen white as milke,
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And yet perhaps not worth a groat,
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but much like you, will lye and prate:
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The Proverbe of a Serving-man,
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as alwayes I doe understand,
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In prime of yeeres heel roare and swagger,
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and being growne old he turnes a begger.
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The Serving-man.
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Why should a Plough-man me deface,
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and urge me with such foule disgrace?
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I dare to challenge you sir foole,
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to meet me at the Fencing-schoole:
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I will not so out-braved be,
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nor ranke with such base pedigree,
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I am a man of courage bold,
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by Plough-men Ile not be controld,
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The second part. To the same Tune.
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The Plough-man.
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INdeed you are of perfect mettle,
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your nose shines like a copper kettle,
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Tis true you are of courage bold,
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the pipe and pot you will uphold,
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You hold it rare to drinke and smoake,
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all this is true which I have spoke:
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But tis a Husbandmans delight,
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to worke all day and sleepe all night.
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The Serving-man.
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We have no labour toyle and care,
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we Serving-men no drudges are,
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Our care is for the chiefest pleasure
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which seemes to us a daily treasure:
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My Ladies Waiting maid most fine,
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with us both often sup and dine,
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Sometimes a courtesie we crave,
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a kisse or so, and this wee have.
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The Plough-man.
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If you the Proverb truly mark,
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Joane is as good as my Lady in th dark,
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A Country Lasse in russet gray,
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with her I love to sport and play:
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O she will dance and sweetly sing,
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much like the Nightingale in Spring,
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Shes fresh and faire, and firme and sound.
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in her much pleasure may be found.
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The Serving-man.
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Well Countrie-man my mind is brave,
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I will not yeeld to what you crave:
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No Plough-man ere shall make me yeeld,
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I will not so much be compeld:
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My youthfull dayes yeelds me much joyes,
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my nights I passe with merry toyes:
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My time is pleasure and delight,
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which I doe spend with Ladies bright.
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The Plough-man.
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O hold thy peace, thy fond delight
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doth passe away like day or night.
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Thy aged head appearing gray,
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then doth thy pleasure soone decay,
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Then from thy service must thou packe,
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and all things quickly wilt thou lacke:
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Then warning take ere it be long,
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and learne to worke while thou art young
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The Serving man.
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Why should I labour, toyle, or care,
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since I am fed with dainty fare?
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My Gelding I have for to ride,
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my cloake my good sword by my side,
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My bootes and spurres shining like gold,
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like those whose names are high inrold:
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What pleasure more can any crave,
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then such content as I now have?
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The Plough-man.
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Tis true indeed, thy pleasures great,
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and I have what I get by sweat,
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My labour gives my heart content,
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and I doe live in merriment.
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He that true labour takes in hand,
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doth farre surpasse the Serving-man,
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He passeth some with house and lands,
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when that decayes, he cryes, Helpe hands.
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The Serving-man.
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Thy reasons I have understood,
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and what thou speakst is very good.
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I would I were a Plough man now,
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and labour could at Cart and Plough,
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Then would I work and till the land,
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and never more be Serving-man,
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For what they have is truly got,
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they are contented with their lot.
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Thus to conclude and make an end,
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let none with Husband-men contend:
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You see here yeelds a loftie mind,
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and to good counsell is inclind.
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Thus will we all like lovers gree,
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the painfull man shall pressed be,
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For by the labour of the hand,
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we doe receive fruits from the land.
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