True Blew the Plowman,
Or, A Character of several Callings which he could not freely fancy, when he found their
grand Deceit.
He never yet would change his Note,
He'd rather be a slave.
Nay, wear a poor and thread-bare Coat.
than counted as a Knave.
To the Tune of, The Country Farmer.
This may be Printed, R.P.
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NOw Trading is dead I resolve to contrive,
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And study some calling in order to thrive,
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But I will be just in whatever I do,
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My Name I must tell you is honest True-Blew:
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Though Fortune does oftentimes smile on a Knave,
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By their unjust dealings they do get and save,
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But honest Plain-dealing does live like a slave,
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While Ranting brave Hectors goes gallant & brave.
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At first I considered what Trade I might be,
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To live with Plain-Dealing without Knavery,
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I would be a Brewer at first. I did think,
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And then to be besure I shall never want drink:
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But straightways I thought of the Brewers old fault
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Who put in the Water and left out the Mault,
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If I should do so and make pittiful Beer,
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I should have the Curse of the Tinkers I fear.
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As I was a walking along very sad,
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I met a fine Hostess that wanted a Lad,
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Her words were so wiinning I could do no less,
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But go along with her to tend on the Guess,
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She said, when you wait on a jolly boon crew,
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Each Pot as you draw, then be sure you score two,
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I told her false-dealing now never would do,
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'Twas better be ragged and torn and true.
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If this be your dealings I never will stay,
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Thought I then I'le pack up my Awls and away,
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I finding by this how the current did run,
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Poor men by those Ale-wives are often undone,
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No wonder it is now that they are so great,
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To flourish in Silks at so gallant a rate,
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'Tis folly that makes men to sell their Estate,
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While Ale-wives can flourish & drink in their plate.
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Then home to my Father I went again,
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And of my hard fortune I did complain,
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He told me no trouble nor cost he'd spare,
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Of me he would take a particular care:
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I would have a calling without all deceit,
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But with such a one, I as yet could not meet,
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My Father was willing my joys to compleat,
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And now of a Taylor I mean for to treat.
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I went upon liking a Taylor to be,
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And now I will tell you a passage I see,
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One brought in my Master some Cloath for a Cloak,
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And he at his Cabbaging had a good stroak:
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For taking his Shiers he whipt off an Ell,
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And straight he condemn'd it, and sent it to Hell,
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Down under his Shop-board, which when I did see,
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Thought I then I'le ne'r be Prentice to thee.
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A lusty brave Miller came up to the Town,
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And I as a Prentice with him must go down,
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Thought I with an honest man now I am blest,
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But soon I did find him as bad as the rest:
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For if you'l believe me, I think in my Soul,
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He dad a great Dish was as big as a Bowl,
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And there was old taking and taking of Toul,
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Thus he would be fishing against all controul.
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Beside he was counted a slippery blade,
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And fain would be toying with every Maid;
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There was a young Lass, and her name it was Kate,
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With whom he would fain have bin playing the mate:
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One day as she came with her Grist to the Mill,
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My master the Miller was tempting her still,
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The Maiden with courage catch'd hold of his Ham,
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And tumbled him headlong into the Mill-Dam.
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It hapned to be the lower-side of the Mill,
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But yet he lay crying and calling out still:
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I could not tell well what the matter might be,
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And therefore to him I did run hastily.
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But when in the River I did him find,
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Thought I in my Heart thou art serv'd in thy kind,
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And thus by the Maiden the Miller was fool'd,
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For then in the River his Courage was cool'd.
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Thought I, I will ne'r be a slave to this Elf,
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For fear he should make me as bad as himself,
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With some honest Farmer i'le get me a place,
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Where I may live happy and free from disgrace:
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And thus I did leave the old Miller i'le vow,
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Then taking myself to the Harrow and Plow,
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'Tis free from deceiving, all Men will allow,
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I labour and live by the sweat of my brow.
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