You -- poor and obscure, and small and plain as you are -- I entreat to accept me as a husband.
None can less afford to delay than the aged sinner.
Now is the time. Now or never. You have, as it were, one foot already in the grave. Your opportunities will soon be over. Strive, then, I entreat you, to enter in at the strait gate.
Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee: For wither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God.