The Dumb MAID: OR, THE Young GALLANT Trappaned.  
A young Man did unto her a Wooing come,  
But she pretended much that she was Dumb;  
But when they both in Marriage-bands were tied,  
The Doctor's Skill was likewise with her tried;  
The Doctor he set her Tongue on the Run,  
She Chatters now, and never will have done.  
To a new Tune, called, Dum, dum, dum: or, I would I were in my own Country, etc.  
Licenced and Entered according to Order.  
 
 

ALl you that pass along,  
Give ear unto my Song,  
Concerning a Pout  
that was young, young, young;  
And of a Maiden fair,  
F●w with her might compare,  
But alack, and alas, she  
was dumb, dumb, dumb.   

She was beauteous, fresh, and pay,  
Like the pleasant Flowers in May,  
And her checks was as round  
as a plum, plum, plum;  
She was near in every part,  
And she stole away his Heart;  
But alack, and alas, she  
was dumb, dumb, dumb.   

At length this Country Blade,  
Wedded this pretty Maid,  
And he kindly conducted  
her home, home, home,  
Thus in her Beauty bright,  
Lay all his whale Delight;  
But alack, and alas, she  
was dumb, dumb, dumb.   
 
 

Now will I plainly show  
What wo●k this Maid could do,  
Which a pattern may he,  
for Girls young, young, young;  
O she both day and night,  
In working took delight;  
But alack, and alas, she  
was dumb, dumb, bum.   

She could brew, and she could bake,  
She could wash, wring, and shake,  
She could sweep the House  
with a broom, broom, broom:  
She could knit, and sow, and spin,  
And do any such like thing;  
But alack, and alas, she  
was dumb, dumb, dumb.   

But at last this Man did go,  
The Doctor's Skill to know,  
Saying, Sir, can you cure  
a Woman of the Dumb?  
O it is the easiest part,  
That belongs unto my Art,  
For to cure a Woman  
of the dumb, dumb, dumb.   

To the Doctor he did her bring,  
And he cut her Chattering-string,  
And he set her Tongue on  
the run, run, run:  
In the morning he did rise,  
And she filled his House with cries,  
And she rattled in his ears  
like a drum, drum, drum.   

To the Doctor he did go,  
With his heart well filled with woe,  
Crying, Doctor, I am  
undone, done, done;  
Now she's turned a scolding Wife,  
And I am weary of my life,  
Nor I cannot make her hold  
her tongue, tongue, tongue.   

The Doctor thus did say,  
When she went from me away,  
She was perfectly cured of  
the dumb, dumb, dumb:  
But it's beyond the Art of Man,  
Let him do the best he can,  
For to make a scolding Woman  
hold her tongue, tongue, tongue.   

So as you to me came,  
Return you back again,  
And take you the Oil  
of H●zel strong;  
With it anoint her Body round;  
When she makes the House to found;  
So perhaps you may charm her  
tongue, tongue, tongue.