THE
DUMB MAID:
OR,
The Young Gallant Trappand.
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 tyd,
The Doctors Skill was likewise with her tryd;
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 Countrey.
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ALL you that pass along,
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Give ear unto my Song,
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Concerning a Youth
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that was young, young, young[:]
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And of a Maiden fair,
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Few with her might compare,
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But alack, and alas, she
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was Dumb, dumb, dumb.
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She was beautious, fresh, and gay
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Like the pleasant flowers in May,
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And her Cheeks was as round
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as a Plum, plum, plum:
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She was neat in every part,
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And she stole away his heart,
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But alack, and alas, she
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was Dumb, dumb, dumb.
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At length this Country Blade,
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Wedded this prety Maid,
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And he kindly Conducted
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her home, home, home:
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Thus in her Beauty bright,
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Lay all his whole Delight,
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But alack, and alas, she
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was Dumb, dumb, dumb.
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Now will I plainly show
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What work this Maid could do
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Which a patren may be,
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for girls young, young, youn[g,]
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O she both day and night,
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In working took delight,
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But alack, and alas, she
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was dumb, dumb, dumb.
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She could Brew & she could bake,
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She could wash, wring, and shake,
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She could sweep the House
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with a Broom, broom, broom;
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She could Knit, and Sow, & Spin,
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And do any such like thing,
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But alack, and alas, she
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was dumb, dumb, dumb.
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But at last this man did go
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The Doctors skil to know,
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Saying, Sir can you cure
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a Woman of the Dumb:
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O it is the easiest part
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That belongs unto my art,
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For to cure a Woman,
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of the dumb, dumb, dumb.
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To the Doctor he did her bring,
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And he cut her chatering string,
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And he set her Tongue on
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the run, run, run:
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In the morning he did rise,
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And she filld his house with cries,
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And she rattled in his ears
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Like a drum, drum, drum.
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To the Doctor he did go,
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with his heart well filld with woe,
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Crying Doctor, I am
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undone, done, done:
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Now shes turnd a scolding Wife,
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And I am weary of my Life,
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Nor I cannot make her hold
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Her tongue, tongue, tongue.
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The Doctor thus did say,
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When she went from me away,
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She was perfectly Cured of
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the dumb, dumb, dumb.
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But its beyond the Art of man,
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Let him do the best he can,
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For to make a scolding Woman
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hold her tongue, tongue, tongue.
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So as you to me came,
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Return you back again,
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And take you the Oyl,
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of Hazel strong:
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With it anoint her body round,
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when she makes the house to sound,
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So perhaps you may charm
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her tongue, tongue, tongue.
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