Why Sad?

"Why sad?" "I am in love." "With whom?" "A maid."
"Lovely, I trust." "So I myself persuade."
"Where met ye?" "Feasting, 'neath a gay alcove
I saw her sit, and felt that I must love."
"How wooest thou?" "I scorn not any shifts,
But most confide in flatteries and in gifts."
"Thy suit is honourable?" "No." "A wife
Thou'lt make the fair at last?" "Not for my life.
She has not got one single groat to tell."
"Thou dost not love who reasonest so well."