“If she be not fair to me,
What care I how fair she be.”—SUCKLING.
Wherefore, Fanny, look so lovely,
In your anger, in your glee?
Laughing, weeping, fair, capricious!
If you will look so delicious,
Prythee, look at me!
Wherefore, Fanny, sing so sweetly,
Like the bird upon the tree,—
Hearts in dozens round you bringing?
Siren! if you must be singing,
Prythee, sing to me!
Wherefore, Fanny, dance so lightly,
Like the wave upon the sea?
Motion every charm enhancing;
Fanny, if you will be dancing,
Prythee, dance with me!
Wherefore smile so like an angel,
Angel-like although you be?
Head and heart at once beguiling,—
Dearest! if you will be smiling,
Prythee, smile on me!
Wherefore flirt, and aim your arrows
At each harmless fop you see?
Coxcombs, hardly worth the hurting;
Tyrant! if you must be flirting,
Prythee, flirt with me!
Wherefore, Fanny, kiss and fondle
Half the ugly brats you see?
Waste not love among so many;—
Sweetest! if you fondle any,
Prythee, fondle me!
Wherefore wedlock’s lottery enter?
Chances for you, one to three!
Richest ventures oft miscarry,
Fanny, Fanny, if you marry,
Prythee, marry me!