_Ever till I saw thee my heart was still at rest, Little did I think one Female could have pierc’t Either Heart or Bowels, that on thee doth waste, So sad all faint and feeble grow within my brest; Alas, it is pity that sorrow to me should come, For to tell you the truth as yet I am but very young, And to express my self I want a better tongue; But I can truly and sadly say that only you Are she that hath brought me to grief and sorrow too Brave Vertues that are in this lovely Damsel found At the first sight gave my poor heart a desperate wound. You have my sences very much decay’d With love, that at one time they will be all dismai’d Long of the tender love that to you I do bear, Even now I will make and end my only Dear._
We all laughed heartily at this non-sensical stuff, and I told mistress _Dorothy_ that sure she was mistaken in the recital of these verses, and that they were to be said backwards, for that wayes that she repeated them I discovered the humour of our Poetical Lover, and Mistress _Peggy_ by my directions returned him this answer.
_Tis much you should receive two infections at once, the one Love, the other Poetry, but it is not very strange since they commonly accompany one another, but i’le assure you ’tis dangerous, for you know the old_ Proverb, _that sad are the effects of_ Love and Pease Porridge; _and besides Poetry is commonly attended with Poverty, but after a strict perusal of your poetick Fancies, I find there is no great danger in your poetick infection, for unless you improve your self mightily it will be a long time e’re you be a compleat Poet, and since your Poetry and Love came together, it will be as long e’re you be a compleat Lover; now if you have still a mind to prosecute these two Designs, of Love and Poetry, I advise you to make use of some other more fit and sublime object that may raise your fancy to a higher pitch of eloquence, or at least wise sense, as you have been in verse. I return this answer to you in prose, and as you like this you may prosecute your Designs of Love and Poetry, with some other Object, but I pray give no more trouble to_
This to the best of my remembrance was the answer to our Lovers poetical Letter, and although what we writ might have been enough to have dashed the designs of any other, yet our Lover came very confidently that evening, and thanked his Mistress for receiving his Letter, and answering it; telling her that he did acknowledge he had not as yet any great Skill in Poetry, but he had written his best, and intended and hoped in the next to mend it, and so he proceeded in his troublesome Love-Suit. Our Cook-maid coming into the room where we were, and having seen the Love Letter, it being made no secret, told us that she had a Love Letter sent her not long since, which in her opinion was better than that; and we believing that there must be somewhat in it worth the seeing, commanded her to fetch it, and giving it into my hands, I read these words.