So We'll Live, And Pray,

Brevity Is The Soul Of Wit.

If You Shall Marry, You Give Away This Hand, And This Is Mine; You Give Away Heaven's Vows, And Those Are Mine; You Give Away Myself, Which Is Known Mine; For I By Vow Am So Embodied Yours That She Which Marries You Must Marry Me-- Either Both Or None.

The Dear Father Would With His Daughter Speak, Commands Her Service; Are They Inform'd Of This?

To You Your Father Should Be As A God; One That Composed Your Beauties, Yea, And One To Whom You Are But As A Form In Wax, By Him Imprinted, And Within His Power To Leave The Figure Or Disfigure It.

That Which Ordinary Men Are Fit For, I Am Qualified In. And The Best Of Me Is Diligence.