Why so pale and wan, fond lover?
Prythee, why so pale?
Will if looking well can't move her
Looking ill prevail?
Why so dull and mute, young sinner?
Prythee, why so mute?
Will, when speaking well can't win her
Saying nothing do't?
Quit, quit for shame
This shall not move,
This cannot take her;
If of herself she will not love
Nothing will make her
The devil take her!