"The word makes me sick! What has love to do with this union?
Love, sir, is a pretty theme for poets, romancers, and fools.

The imagination of such a sentiment--for it is a sentiment that does not live save in the imagination--may serve to draw peasants and other low-bred clods into wedlock.

With such as we--with gentlemen--it has naught to do.

So let that be, Monsieur.

Andrea de Mancini came hither to wed my daughter." "And I am certain, Monsieur," I answered stoutly, "that Andrea will wed your daughter." "You speak with confidence." "I know Andrea well.