Arch. They must, they must. [Kisses her.] Raptures and paradise! and why not now, my angel? The time, the place, silence, and secrecy, all conspire—And the now conscious stars have pre-ordained this moment for my happiness.
[Takes her in his Arms.
Mrs. Sul. You will not, cannot, sure.
Arch. If the sun rides fast, and disappoints not mortals of to-morrow's dawn, this night shall crown my joys.
Mrs. Sul. My sex's pride assist me.
Arch. My sex's strength help me.
Mrs. Sul. You shall kill me first.
Arch. I'll die with you. [Carrying her off.
Mrs. Sul. Thieves! thieves! murder!——
Enter Scrub, in his Breeches, and one Shoe.