T. R. Smith, comp. Poetica Erotica: Rare and Curious Amatory Verse. 1921–22.
The Way to Woo a Zealous Lady
Anonymous(From Merry Drollery, 1691) I CAME unto a Puritan to woo, | |
And roughly did salute her with a kiss; | |
She shoved me from her when I came unto; | |
Brother, by yea and nay I like not this: | |
And as I her with amorous talk saluted, | 5 |
My Articles with scripture she confuted. | |
She told me that I was too much profane, | |
And not devout neither in speech nor gesture: | |
And I could not one word answer again, | |
Nor had not so much grace to call her Sister; | 10 |
For ever something did offend her there, | |
Either my broad beard, hat, or my long hair. | |
My Band was broad, my ’Parrel was not plain, | |
My Points and Girdle made the greatest show; | |
My Sword was odious, and my Belt was vain, | 15 |
My Spanish shoes was cut too broad at toe; | |
My Stockings light, my Garters tied too long, | |
My Gloves perfumed, and had a scent too strong. | |
I left my pure Mistris for a space, | |
And to a snip snap Barber straight went I; | 20 |
I cut my hair, and did my corps uncase | |
Of ’Parrels pride that did offend the eye; | |
My high crowned Hat, my little beard also, | |
My pecked Band, my Shoes were sharp at toe. | |
Gone was my Sword, my Belt was laid aside, | 25 |
And I transform’d both in looks and speech; | |
My ’Parrel plain, my Cloak was void of pride, | |
My little Skirts, my metamorphosed breech, | |
My Stockings black, my Garters were tied shorter, | |
My Gloves no scent; thus march’d I to her Porter. | 30 |
The Porter spied me, and did lead me in, | |
Where his sweet Mistris reading was a chapter: | |
Peace to this house, and all that are therein, | |
Which holy words with admiration wrapt her; | |
And ever, as I came her something nigh, | 35 |
She, being divine, turned up the white of th’ eye. | |
Quoth I, dear sister, and that liked her well; | |
I kist her, and did Pass to some delight, | |
She, blushing, said, that long-tail’d men would tell; | |
Quoth I, I’ll be as silent as the night; | 40 |
And lest the wicked now should have a sight | |
Of what we do, faith, I’ll put out the light. | |
O do not swear, quoth she, but put it out, | |
Because that I would have you save your oath, | |
In truth, you shall but kiss me without doubt; | 45 |
In troth, quoth I, here we will rest us both; | |
Swear you, quoth she, in troth? Had you not sworn | |
I’d not have done’t, but took it in foul scorn. | |