%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> The Down-right Country-Man; OR, / The Faithful Dairy-Maid. / utmind how Country Lads do boast, / whilst Londoners are blam'd, / And Country Lasses praised most, / while ours are Wags proclaim'd. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center English Broadside Ballad Archive (EBBA) Director Patricia Fumerton Associate Director Carl G Stahmer ?-? Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 05/19/2021 37733

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Patricia Fumerton Early Modern Center - English Department University of California Santa Barbara, CA 93105 United States of America EMail: pfumer@english.ucsb.edu

R227114 1 Hey Boys up go we: Or, Busie Fame Busy Fame Hey Boys Up Go We: Or, Busy Fame I Am a down=right Country=man, / both faithful I and true, I am no London Cheat. [with variation] Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 112 The Down-right Country-Man; OR, / The Faithful Dairy-Maid. / utmind how Country Lads do boast, / whilst Londoners are blam'd, / And Country Lasses praised most, / while ours are Wags proclaim'd. The Downright Country Man; OR, The Faithful Dairy Maid. But mind how Country Lads do boast, whilst Londoners are blamed, And Country Lasses praised most, while ours are Wags proclaimed. ?-? P. Brooksby

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 Early Modern Center Ballad Project Keyword Taxonomy advice affliction / health alcohol Americas animals / nature Bible / biblical figures buildings / architecture catastrophe children class clothing / appearance country / nation crime death economics / commerce entertainments family Featured folklore gender holidays / seasons infidelity labor / craft law London love maritime marriage military / war monstrosity mythology / Classical news nobility / court politics / government procreation punishment race / ethnicity religious concepts religious figures religious groups royalty rural life servitude sex / sexuality supernatural / magic travel trickery / deceit urban life vice violence virtue vulgar humor youth / age Library of Congress Subject Heading Taxonomy 5/19/2021 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 5/19/2021 11:10:29 AM XBallad Raychawdhuri, Anita Created XML Version of Ballad 5/19/2021 11:10:29 AM Transcription Supervisor McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 5/19/2021 11:10:29 AM Double-Key Comparison and Merging McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 5/19/2021 11:10:29 AM Transcriptionist Two Jensen, Lauren Transcription of ballad manuscript 5/19/2021 11:10:29 AM Transcriptionist One Gudino, Amy Transcription of ballad manuscript 9/12/2019 Bibliographer Kristen McCants Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
<seg n="1" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The Down-right <hi rend="bold">Country-Man; OR,</hi></hi></seg> <seg n="2" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The Faithful Dairy-Maid.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="3" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">[B]ut mind how Country Lads do boast,</hi></seg> <seg n="4" rend="indent"><hi rend="italic">whilst <hi rend="bold">Londoners</hi> are blam'd,</hi></seg> <seg n="5" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">And Country Lasses praised most,</hi></seg> <seg n="6" rend="indent"><hi rend="italic">while ours are Wags proclaim'd.</hi></seg> <lb/> <seg n="7" rend="left"><hi rend="italic">The Tune is, <hi rend="bold">Hey Boys up go we:</hi> Or, <hi rend="bold">Busie Fame.</hi></hi></seg>
I Am a down-right Country-man, both faithful I and true, I'le live and dye so if I can, this I declare to you: I study as I am at Plow, to shun all false deceit, And you may plain discover now, I am no London Cheat. Your London Cheats do go most fine, like Lords in their attire, To swill their guts with Spanish Wine, it is their hearts desire: But it is very common, they do with the Vintners meet, They'l get o'th score then run away, just like a London Cheat. They oft pretend to be in Love, and ready for to dye, Yea, vow to be just like the Dove, but know no Constancy:
Like Villains they, the wag do play, with every Lass they meet, They plump them up then run away, this is a London Cheat. There is not one in Twenty but he wears his Sword by his side, But walks with many an empty Gut, and ne'r will leave his Pride: But when his brain is full of Wine he'l stagger in the street, And then picks up a Concubine, to pox the London Cheat. Then he for half a Crown will have, that which may make him rue, A painted Whore both fine and brave, perhaps the French-man too: Thus he with his unwholsome flesh, will be most brisk and sweet, But see him once out of his dress, he's like a London Cheat.
BUt London City oft affords, Females as bad as Men, Who though they Hector with their Swords there is not one in ten, But has some pretty little Miss, to serve him at his need, And every minute lends a Kiss, this is a Whore indeed. They'l vow forever to be true, to them they do affect, When Honesty is bid adieu, what can you then expect? No faith nor troth is minded, when fools take so little heed, For Whores do often clap their Men, O these are Whores indeed. Let honest men take so much care, that do inhabit London, Of such false Girls to have a care, for fear they may be undone: How many hundreds may be spoyl'd, if they do not take heed, They who are so by Girls beguil'd, do meet with Whores indeed. Why then give me the Country Lass; who honest is and true, And yet may kiss upon the Grass, but nothing farther do:
She scorneth that her deed, should any mischief breed, She takes delight in what is right, and honest is indeed. See by the coulors of their Cheeks, they well and wholsome are, While London Girls look green as Leeks, The Country Girls look fair: Then old and young I pray be ware, in Marrying take good heed, Least you are brought into a snare by cursed Jades indeed. See how the Rose and Lilly fair, upon their Cheeks do grow, Mind how their breath perfume the ayr, wherever they do go: And what they touch imediately, fresh Odours on them breed, They patterns are of constancy, rare Country Girls indeed. Mind but the Girl that Milks the Cow, how sweetly she doth sing, She never knits an angry Brow, but welcomes in the Spring, And then among the Butter flowers, she trips along the Mead, To pass away the tedious hours, she's fair and Chaste indeed.
Printed for P. Brooksby, at the Golden-Ball, near the Hospital-gate, in West-Smithfield.