The Dumb Lady; Or, No, no, not I; I'll Answer.  
To the Tune of, the Doubtful Virgin, or the new Borey; or Will you be a Man of Fashion.;  
 
 

UNderneath a little Mountain  
where I used myself to walk,  
By a pretty pleasant Fountain  
there I heard two Lovers talk  
●ay! said he my only jewel,  
would you have your Lover die,  
Can you be so fare and cruel  
no indeed quoth she not I,   

Why my dear my pretty Nancy,  
will you then torment my mind?  
If poor Willy you can fancy  
●hew yourself him more kind.  
Or if you design my Ruin,  
I am willing for to die  
But be short in my undoing  
Still she answered no not I.   

Why then pray will you torment me  
and take pleasure in my smart,  
When a kind look will content me  
will you frown to break my Heart,  
If it he my Nanny's Pleasure  
on my Sword I'll freely die,  
Give the word my only Treasure  
Still she answered no not I.   
 
 

Bid me live and I'll endeavour,  
every way to gain your Love  
If this be to great a Favour,  
bid me from your eyes remove  
Deal with me as with a Creature  
as you please shall live or die  
Are you Mistress of ill Nature,  
Still she answered no not I.   

This indeed was more contenting,  
than what e'er before she gave  
Tho it was not full consenting  
it encouraged her Flame.  
Should I tempt to kiss my fair one  
would you say despair and die,  
Say my Love my only dear one  
Still she answered no not I.   

Then he laid his Arms, about her  
she the Posture did Approve,  
He resolved no more to doubt her  
and by progress of his Love  
Gained such conquest straight upon her  
that at last they swain cry  
Will you yield the Fort of Honour  
Still she answered no not I.   

But their was so little distance  
and so yielding a defence  
That he found all her resistance  
was but only complesence,  
Now said he you must surrender  
if I force you will cry?  
All she said foe: to defend her  
Was indeed my dear not I.   

Hard it was at the first Sally  
for to say which side would beat,  
Tho poor Willey oft did Rally  
he as often did retreat:  
But what most deserved my wonder  
Willey he for all his Art,  
Tho he kept your Nanny under  
was the first desired to part.    

Printed for P. Brooksy at the Golden-Ball in Pie-corner.