Sophia. My heart beats so, I shall expire.
Barbara. The Colonel will stay in spite of the pigs.
Sophia. Where can we hide the Prince?
Horatia. [Starting up.] A thought has struck me.
Sophia. What, what?
Horatia. You shall hear—it has been done before. You will aid me in the execution of it.
Sophia. [Throwing herself into her arms.] O my Ratty!
Horatia. We will save him.
Barbara. We will, we will!
Horatia. Or perish with him.