Barbara. So short a space ...
Charles. A very short space I can see, and a very narrow space too. I’ll be hanged if I get into it!
Horatia. Who could have expected opposition from such a quarter?
Sophia. Can the Hero shrink from so small a trial of his constancy? Oh, descend, descend, and we will admire....
Charles. Add mire, you cruel wretches! is there not enough at the bottom already?
Horatia. We would preserve you.
Charles. Didn’t I say so? Some inhuman experiment! But I’ll not be preserved to please you, not I.
Sophia. [Throwing herself at his feet.] O noblest of men! doubt not our fidelity! yield to our agonized entreaties!
[The others kneel.]
Charles. Yield, indeed! I beg you will rise, fair Ladies. I know not if you are jesting; ’tis but a cold jest to me. As for entering that vault, you may kill me before you bury me, for while I’m alive I’ll not go, Ladies; I say I will not go.