William Shakespeare on Courtship
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“Was ever woman in this humour woo'd? Was ever woman in this humour won?”
“She is a woman, therefore may be woo'd; She is a woman, therefore may be won.”
“She's beautiful and therefore to be woo'd: She is a woman, therefore to be won.”
From Shakespeare's *Much Ado About Nothing*, this song lyric, absent in the original folio, ironically consoles women about men's inherent fickleness, echoing earlier works like Percy's "The Friar of Orders Gray."
“Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more, Men were deceivers ever, One foot in sea and one on shore; To one thing constant never.”
“Be merry, and employ your chiefest thoughts To courtship and such fair ostents of love As shall conveniently become you there.”
“Win her with gifts, if she respect not words; Dumb jewels often in their silent kind More than quick words do move a woman's mind.”
“Most fair, Will you vouchsafe to teach a soldier terms Such as will enter at a lady's ear And plead his love-suit to her gentle heart?”
“Wooing thee, I found thee of more value Than stamps in gold or sums in sealed bags; And 'tis the very riches of thyself That now I aim at.”
“Women are angels, wooing: Things won are done, joy's soul lies in the doing: That she belov'd knows nought that knows not this: Men prize the thing ungain'd more than it is.”
“O gentle Romeo, If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully. Or if thou think'st I am too quickly won, I'll frown and be perverse and say thee nay, So thou wilt woo: but else, not for the world.”
“Say that upon the altar of her beauty You sacrifice your tears, your sighs, your heart: Write till your ink be dry and with your tears Moist it again, and frame some feeling line, That may discover such integrity.”
“She wish'd she had not heard it, yet she wish'd That heaven had made her such a man: she thank'd me, And bade me, if I had a friend that lov'd her, I should but teach him how to tell my story And that would woo her.”
“Never give her o'er; For scorn at first makes after-love the more. If she do frown, 'tis not in hate of you, But rather to beget more love in you; If she do chide, 'tis not to have you gone, For why, the fools are mad if left alone.”
“Take no repulse, whatever she doth say; For, "get you gone," she doth not mean, "away." Flatter and praise, commend, extol their graces; Though ne'er so black, say they have angels' faces. That man that hath a tongue, I say, is no man, If with his tongue he cannot win a woman.”