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| Hoyt & Roberts, comps. Hoyt’s New Cyclopedia of Practical Quotations. 1922. |
| Wooing |
| Thrice happy’s the wooing that’s not long a-doing, So much time is saved in the billing and cooing. R. H. Barham—Sir Rupert the Fearless. | 1 |
| Why don’t the men propose, mamma? Why don’t the men propose? Thomas Haynes Bayly—Songs and Ballads. Why Don’t the Men Propose? | 2 |
| ‘Yes,’ I answered you last night; ‘No,’ this morning, sir, I say: Colors seen by candle-light Will not look the same by day. E. B. Browning—The Lady’s “Yes.” | 3 |
| Alas! to seize the moment When heart inclines to heart, And press a suit with passion, Is not a woman’s part. If man come not to gather The roses where they stand, They fade among their foliage, They cannot seek his hand. Bryant—Song. Trans. from the Spanish of Iglesias. | 4 |
| Woo the fair one when around Early birds are singing; When o’er all the fragrant ground Early herbs are springing: When the brookside, bank, and grove All with blossom laden, Shine with beauty, breathe of love, Woo the timid maiden. Bryant—Love’s Lessons. | 5 |
| Duncan Gray cam here to woo, Ha, ha, the wooing o’t! On blithe Yulenight when we were fou, Ha, ha, the wooing o’t! Maggie coost her head fu’ high, Looked asklent and unco skeigh, Gart poor Duncan stand abeigh: Ha, ha! the wooing o’t! Burns—Duncan Gray. | 6 |
| And let us mind, faint heart ne’er wan A lady fair. Wha does the utmost that he can Will whyles do mair. Burns—To Dr. Blacklock. | 7 |
| The landlady and Tam grew gracious Wi’ favours secret, sweet and precious. Burns—Tam o’ Shanter. St. 7. | 8 |
| Blessed is the wooing That is not long a-doing. Quoted in Burton—Anatomy of Melancholy. | 9 |
| How often in the summer-tide, His graver business set aside, Has stripling Will, the thoughtful-eyed As to the pipe of Pan, Stepped blithesomely with lover’s pride Across the fields to Anne. Richard Burton—Across the Fields to Anne. (Referring to Shakespeare.) | 10 |
| He that will win his dame must do As love does when he draws his bow; With one hand thrust the lady from, And with the other pull her home. Butler—Hudibras. Pt. II. Canto I. L. 449. | 11 |
| She that with poetry is won, Is but a desk to write upon; And what men say of her they mean No more than on the thing they lean. Butler—Hudibras. Pt. II. Canto I. L. 591. | 12 |
| Do proper homage to thine idol’s eyes; But not too humbly, or she will despise Thee and thy suit, though told in moving tropes: Disguise even tenderness, if thou art wise. Byron—Childe Harold. Canto II. St. 34. | 13 |
| Not much he kens, I ween, of woman’s breast, Who thinks that wanton thing is won by sighs. Byron—Childe Harold. Canto II. St. 34. | 14 |
| ’Tis an old lesson; time approves it true, And those who know it best, deplore it most; When all is won that all desire to woo, The paltry prize is hardly worth the cost. Byron—Childe Harold. Canto II. St. 35. | 15 |
| And whispering, “I will ne’er consent”—consented. Byron—Don Juan. Canto I. St. 117. | 16 |
| There is a tide in the affairs of women Which, taken at the flood, leads—God knows where. Byron—Don Juan. Canto VI. St. 2. | 17 |
| Some are soon bagg’d but some reject three dozen. ’Tis fine to see them scattering refusals And wild dismay, o’er every angry cousin (Friends of the party) who begin accusais, Such as—“Unless Miss (Blank) meant to have chosen Poor Frederick, why did she accord perusals To his billets? Why waltz with him? Why, I pray, Look yes last night, and yet say No to-day?” Byron—Don Juan. Canto XII. St. 34. | 18 |
| ’Tis enough— Who listens once will listen twice; Her heart be sure is not of ice, And one refusal no rebuff. Byron—Mazeppa. St. 6. | 19 |
| Better be courted and jilted Than never be courted at all. Campbell—The Jilted Nymph. | 20 |
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| Never wedding, ever wooing, Still a lovelorn heart pursuing, Read you not the wrong you’re doing In my cheek’s pale hue? All my life with sorrow strewing; Wed or cease to woo. Campbell—The Maid’s Remonstrance. | 21 |
| So mourn’d the dame of Ephesus her Love, And thus the Soldier arm’d with Resolution Told his soft Tale, and was a thriving Wooer. Colley Cibber—Richard III. (Altered). Act II. Sc. 1. | 22 |
| Faint heart hath been a common phrase, faire ladie never wives. J. P. Collier’s Reprint of The Rocke of Regard. (1576). P. 122. | 23 |
| And when with envy Time transported Shall think to rob us of our joys, You’ll in your girls again be courted, And I’ll go wooing in my boys. Gilbert Cooper, according to John Aikin, in Collection of English Songs. Winifreda. Claimed for him by Walter Thornbury—Two Centuries of Song. (1810). Bishop Percy assigns it a place in his Reliques. I. 326, (Ed. 1777), but its ancient origin is a fiction. Poem appeared in Dodsley’s Magazine and in Miscellaneous Poems by Several hands. (1726). | 24 |
| “Chops and Tomata Sauce. Yours, Pickwick.” Chops! Gracious heavens! and Tomata Sauce! Gentlemen, is the happiness of a sensitive and confiding female to be trifled away by such shallow artifices as these? Dickens—Pickwick Papers. Ch. XXXIV. | 25 |
| Ah, Foole! faint heart faire lady n’ere could win. Phineas Fletcher—Brittain’s Ida. Canto V. St. 1. Wm. Ellerton—George a-Greene. Ballad written about 1569. A Proper New Ballad in Praise of My Lady Marques. (1569). Reprint Philobiblian So. 1867. P. 22. Early use in Camden’s Remaines. (Ed. 1814). Originally published with Spenser’s name on the title page. | 26 |
| Perhaps if you address the lady Most politely, most politely, Flatter and impress the lady Most politely, most politely. Humbly beg and humbly sue, She may deign to look on you. W. S. Gilbert—Princess Ida. | 27 |
| If doughty deeds my lady please, Right soon I’ll mount my steed, And strong his arm and fast his seat, That bears me from the meed. Then tell me how to woo thee, love, Oh, tell me how to woo thee For thy dear sake, nae care I’ll take Though ne’er another trow me. Robert Graham—Tell me how to woo Thee. | 28 |
| I’ll woo her as the lion woos his brides. John Home—Douglas. Act I. Sc. 1. | 29 |
| The surest way to hit a woman’s heart is to take aim kneeling. Douglas Jerrold—Douglas Jerrold’s Wit. The Way to a Woman’s Heart. | 30 |
| Follow a shadow, it still flies you, Seem to fly, it will pursue: So court a mistress, she denies you; Let her alone, she will court you. Say are not women truly, then, Styled but the shadows of us men? Ben Jonson—The Forest. Song. That Women are but Men’s Shadows. | 31 |
| There be triple ways to take, of the eagle or the snake, Or the way of a man with a maid. Kipling—The Long Trail. L’Envoi to Departmental Duties. | 32 |
| A fool there was and he made his prayer (Even as you and I!) To a rag and a bone and a hank of hair (We called her the woman who did not care) But the fool he called her his lady fair— (Even as you and I!) Kipling—The Vampire. | 33 |
| If I am not worth the wooing, I surely am not worth the winning. Longfellow—Courtship of Miles Standish. Pt. III. L. 111. | 34 |
| Why don’t you speak for yourself, John? Longfellow—Courtship of Miles Standish. III. Last line. | 35 |
| The nightingales among the sheltering boughs Of populous many-nested trees Shall teach me how to woo thee, and shall tell me By what resistless charms or incantations They won their mates. Longfellow—The Masque of Pandora. Pt. V. L. 62. | 36 |
| Come live in my heart and pay no rent. Lover—Vourneen! when your days were bright. | 37 |
| His heart kep’ goin’ pity-pat, But hern went pity-Zekle. Lowell—Introduction to The Biglow Papers. Second Series. The Courtin’. St. 15. | 38 |
| Whaur hae ye been a’ day, My boy Tammy? I’ve been by burn and flowery brae, Meadow green and mountain grey, Courting of this young thing Just come frae her mammy. Hector MacNeill—Song. | 39 |
| I will now court her in the conqueror’s style; “Come, see, and overcome.” Massinger—Maid of Honour. Act II. Sc. 1. | 40 |
| He kissed her cold corpse a thousand times o’er, And called her his jewel though she was no more: And he drank all the pison like a lovyer so brave, And Villikins and Dinah lie buried in one grave. Henry Mayhew condensed and interpolated the modern version in his Wandering Minstrel. The words of an old song given to him by the actor, Mitchell, who sang it in 1831. The ballad is older than the age of Queen Elizabeth, according to G. A. Sala—Autobiography. | 41 |
| And every shepherd tells his tale Under the hawthorn in the dale. Milton—L’Allegro. L. 67. | 42 |
| Her virtue and the conscience of her worth, That would be woo’d, and not unsought be won. Milton—Paradise Lost. Bk. VIII. L. 502. | 43 |
| That you are in a terrible taking, By all these sweet oglings I see; But the fruit that can fall without shaking, Indeed is too mellow for me. Lady Mary Wortley Montagu—Lines written for Lord William Hamilton. | 44 |
| Let this great maxim be my virtue’s guide: In part she is to blame that has been tried; He comes too near that comes to be denied. Lady Mary Wortley Montagu—The Lady’s Resolve. In Works. Vol. V. P. 104. Ed. 1803. Quoted from Overbury. | 45 |
| If I speak to thee in friendship’s name, Thou think’st I speak too coldly; If I mention Love’s devoted flame, Thou say’st I speak too boldly. Moore—How Shall I Woo? | 46 |
| ’Tis sweet to think that where’er we rove We are sure to find something blissful and dear; And that when we’re far from the lips we love, We’ve but to make love to the lips we are near. Moore—’Tis Sweet to Think. | 47 |
| Happy Mary Anerly, looking O so fair, There’s a ring upon your hand, and there’s myrtle in your hair. Somebody is with you now: Somebody I see, Looks into your trusting face very tenderly. Arthur James Munby—Mary Anerly. | 48 |
| I sat with Doris, the Shepherd maiden; Her crook was laden with wreathèd flowers; I sat and wooed her through sunlight wheeling, And shadows stealing for hours and hours. Arthur James Munby—Pastoral. | 49 |
| Ye shall know my breach of promise. Numbers. XIV. 34. | 50 |
| In part to blame is she, Which hath without consent bin only tride; He comes too neere, that comes to be denide. Sir Thos. Overbury—A Wife. St. 36. | 51 |
| Ah, whither shall a maiden flee, When a bold youth so swift pursues, And siege of tenderest courtesy, With hope perseverant, still renews! Coventry Patmore—The Chase. | 52 |
| They dream in courtship, but in wedlock wake. Pope—Wife of Bath. L. 103. | 53 |
| The way of an eagle in the air; the way of a serpent upon a rock; the way of a ship in the midst of the sea; and the way of a man with a maid. Proverbs. XXX. 19. | 54 |
| But in vain did she conjure him To depart her presence so, Having a thousand tongues t’allure him, And but one to bid him go. Sir Walter Raleigh—Dulcina. Attributed to Brydges, who edited Raleigh’s poems. | 55 |
| It was a happy age when a man might have wooed his wench with a pair of kid leather gloves, a silver thimble, or with a tawdry lace; but now a velvet gown, a chain of pearl, or a coach with four horses will scarcely serve the turn. Rich—My Lady’s Looking Glass. | 56 |
| Wooed, and married, and a’, Married, and wooed, and a’! And was she nae very weel off That was wooed, and married, and a’? Alex. Ross—Song. | 57 |
| A pressing lover seldom wants success, Whilst the respectful, like the Greek, sits down And wastes a ten years’ siege before one town. Nicholas Rowe—To the Inconstant. Epilogue. L. 18. | 58 |
| Lightly from fair to fair he flew, And loved to plead, lament, and sue,— Suit lightly won, and short-lived pain, For monarchs seldom sigh in vain. Scott—Marmion. Canto V. St. 9. | 59 |
| A heaven on earth I have won by wooing thee. All’s Well That Ends Well. Act IV. Sc. 2. L. 66. | 60 |
| 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? Henry V. Act V. Sc. 2. L. 98. | 61 |
| She’s beautiful and therefore to be woo’d: She is a woman, therefore to be won. Henry VI. Pt. I. Act V. Sc. 3. L. 78. | 62 |
| Be merry, and employ your chiefest thoughts To courtship and such fair ostents of love As shall conveniently become you there. Merchant of Venice. Act II. Sc. 8. L. 43. | 63 |
| 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. Merry Wives of Windsor. Act III. Sc. 4. L. 15. | 64 |
| We cannot fight for love, as men may do; We should be woo’d and were not made to woo. Midsummer Night’s Dream. Act II. Sc. 1. L. 241. | 65 |
| Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more, Men were deceivers ever, One foot in sea and one on shore; To one thing constant never. Much Ado About Nothing. Act II. Sc. 3. L. 64. Not in original folio. See also Thos. Percy—The Friar of Orders Gray. (“Weep no more, Ladies.”) | 66 |
| I was not born under a rhyming planet, nor I cannot woo in festival terms. Much Ado About Nothing. Act V. Sc. 2. L. 40. | 67 |
| 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. Othello. Act I. Sc. 3. L. 162. | 68 |
| Was ever woman in this humour woo’d? Was ever woman in this humour won? Richard III. Act I. Sc. 2. L. 228. | 69 |
| 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. Romeo and Juliet. Act II. Sc. 2. L. 93. | 70 |
| She is a woman, therefore may be woo’d; She is a woman, therefore may be won. Titus Andronicus. Act II. Sc. 1. L. 82. | 71 |
| 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. Troilus and Cressida. Act I. Sc. 2. L. 312. | 72 |
| 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. Two Gentlemen of Verona. Act III. Sc. 1. L. 89. | 73 |
| 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. Two Gentlemen of Verona. Act III. Sc. 1. L. 91. | 74 |
| 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. Two Gentlemen of Verona. Act III. Sc. 1. L. 100. | 75 |
| 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. Two Gentlemen of Verona. Act III. Sc. 2. L. 73. | 76 |
| Bring therefore all the forces that ye may, And lay incessant battery to her heart; Playnts, prayers, vowes, truth, sorrow, and dismay; Those engins can the proudest love convert: And, if those fayle, fall down and dy before her; So dying live, and living do adore her. Spenser—Amoretti and Epithalamion. Sonnet XIV. | 77 |
| Full little knowest thou that hast not tried, What hell it is in suing long to bide: To loose good dayes, that might be better spent; To waste long nights in pensive discontent; To speed to-day, to be put back to-morrow; To feed on hope, to pine with feare and sorrow. Spenser—Mother Hubberd’s Tale. L. 895. | 78 |
| Quiet, Robin, quiet! You lovers are such clumsy summer-flies, Forever buzzing at your lady’s face. Tennyson—The Foresters. Act IV. Sc. 1. | 79 |
| When Venus said “Spell no for me,” “N-O,” Dan Cupid wrote with glee, And smiled at his success: “Ah, child,” said Venus, laughing low, “We women do not spell it so, We spell it Y-E-S.” Carolyn Wells—The Spelling Lesson. | 80 |
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