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 thread-bare coat. [sic] than counted as a knave. To the tune of, The country farmer. This may be printed, R.P. This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription B06222 of text R228616 in the English Short Title Catalog (Wing T2589). Textual changes and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life. The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish. This text has not been fully proofread Approx. 5 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 1 1-bit group-IV TIFF page image. EarlyPrint Project Evanston,IL, Notre Dame, IN, St. Louis, MO 2018 B06222 Wing T2589 Interim Tract Supplement Guide C.20.f.8[471] 99887928 ocm99887928 183581 2240880330

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 Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 2, no. B06222) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 183581) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books; Tract supplement ; A5:2[372]) 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 thread-bare coat. [sic] than counted as a knave. To the tune of, The country farmer. This may be printed, R.P. 1 sheet ([1] p.) : ill. (woodcuts). Printed for P. Brooksby, [London : between 1685-1688] Imprint suggested by Wing. Verse: "Now trading is dead I resolve to contrive ..." Imperfect: trimmed, affecting imprint. Reproduction of original in the British Library. eng Ballads, English -- 17th century. eebo 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 chang anon 1688 1 883 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 A This text has no known defects that were recorded as gap elements at the time of transcription. 2008-02 Assigned for keying and markup 2008-02 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2008-03 Sampled and proofread 2008-10 Rekeyed and resubmitted 2010-02 Sampled and proofread 2010-02 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2010-04 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion
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 aslave . 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.

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