A pleasant new Dialogue: OR, The discourse between the servingman and the husbandman.  
The lofty pride must bated be,  
And praise must go in right degree.  
To the tune of, I have for all good wives a Song.  

 

AS I went through the meadows green,  
that are most lovely to be seen,  
I heard two men in great discourse  
o many things better or worse:  
The one a servingman, and he  
stood much upon his bravery:  
The other was a Husbandman,  
which no man speak against him can.   

The servingman's speech.  
I am a servingman that's fine,  
and feed on dainties, and drink wine,  
I am for Lady's company,  
who can have pleasures more than I?  
I have the love of Maidens fair,  
that are their Parents only heir,  
Although they go in garments gay,  
with me they'll yield to sport and play.   

The ploughman.  
Though you in garments go most brade,  
yet you must yield to what I crave,  
No servingman shall make me yield,  
I'll show the cause whereon I build.  
A Servingman cannot come nigh  
to that which I will verify:  
A young servingman may compare  
to be an old beggar man's heir.   

The servingman.  
I wait on Ladies, Lords, and Knights,  
where pleasure flows with much delights,  
My time I spend with Venus' Nymphs,  
whose features rare desire attempts.  
We Serving-men have pleasure at will:  
and ploughmen they have labour still,  
Then how can they with us compare,  
Seeing we have pleasure, and they have care?   

The ploughman.  
Though you in pleasure do exceed,  
who is it that doth serve your need?  
You might go pine and starve with want,  
then at a Plough man do not tant.  
We till the ground which brings increase:  
and all would lack if we should cease.  
Such bragging Ia●●s might do full ill,  
then to a ploughman yield thee skill.   

The servingman.  
Our apparel many times is silk,  
our shirts as white as any milk,  
Our fare is of the very best,  
and that which is most neatly dressed,  
And often when we sup or dine,  
we taste a dainty cup of wine:  
Our Master's Cellars yield good beer,  
and in his Hall we find good cheer.   

The ploughman.  
'Tis true: there many goes in silk,  
and have their linen white as milk,  
And yet perhaps not worth a groat,  
but much like you, will lie and prate:  
The proverb of a servingman,  
as always I do understand.  
In prime of years he'll roar and swagger,  
and being grown old he turns a beggar.   

The servingman.  
Why should a ploughman me deface,  
and urge me with such foul disgrace▪  
I dare to challenge you sir fool,  
to meet me at the fencing-school:  
I will not so outbraved be,  
nor rank with such base pedigrée,  
I am a man of courage bold,  
by ploughmen I'll not be controlled,    

The second part.  
To the same Tune.  
 

The ploughman.  
INdeed you are of perfect mettle,  
your nose shines like a copper kettle,  
'tis true you are of courage bold,  
the pipe and pot you will uphold,  
You hold it rare to drink and smoke,  
all this is true which I have spoke:  
But 'tis a husbandman's delight,  
to work all day and sleep all night.   

The servingman.  
We have no labour toil and care,  
we Serving-men no drudges are,  
Our care is for the chiefest pleasure,  
which seems to us a daily treasure:  
My Lady's Waiting-maid most fine,  
with us doth often sup and dine,  
Sometimes a courtesy we crave,  
a kiss or so, and this we have.   

The ploughman.  
If you the Proverb truly mark,  
Ioan● is as good as my Lady in'th dark,  
A Country lass in russet grey,  
with h●r I love to sport and play:  
O she will dance and sweetly sing,  
much like the Nightingale in Spring.  
She's fresh and fair, and firm and sound.  
in her much pleasure may be found.   

The servingman.  
Well countryman my mind is brave,  
I will not yield to what you crave:  
No Plough man ere shall make me yield,  
I will not so much be compelled:  
My youthful days yields me much joys,  
my nights I pass with merry toys:  
My time is pleasure and delight,  
which I do spend with Ladies bright.   

The ploughman.  
O hold thy peace, thy fond delight  
doth pass away like day or night.  
Thy aged head appearing grey,  
then doth thy pleasure soon decay,  
Then from thy service must thou pack,  
and all things quickly wilt thou lack:  
Then warning take ere it be long,  
and learn to work while thou art young   

The Serving man.  
Why should I labour, toil, or care,  
since I am fed with dainty fare?  
My Gelding I have for to ride,  
my cloak my good sword by my side,  
My boots and spurs shining like gold,  
like those whose names are high enrolled:  
What pleasure more can any crave,  
Than such content as I now have?   

The ploughman.  
'tis true indeed, thy pleasure's great,  
and I have what I get by sweat,  
My labour gives my heart content,  
and I do live in merriment.  
He that true labour takes in hand,  
doth far surpass the servingman,  
He passeth some with house and lands,  
when that decays, he cries, help hands.   

The servingman.  
Thy reasons I have understood.  
and what thou speak'st is very good.  
I would I were a Plough man now,  
and labour could at Cart and Plough,  
Then would I work and till the land,  
and never more be Serving man,  
For what they have is truly got,  
they are contented with their lot.   

Thus to conclude and make an end,  
let none with husbandmen contend:  
You see here yields a lofty mind,  
and to good counsel is inclined.  
Thus will we all like lovers 'gree,  
the painful man shall p●●ised be,  
For by the labour of the hand,  
we do receive fruits from the land.    
R▪ C  
FINIS▪   

Printed at London for F. Coules dwelling in the Old Baily.