Mrs. Sul. Anything another time.
Arch. When shall I come?
Mrs. Sul. To-morrow—when you will.
Arch. Your lips must seal the promise.
Mrs. Sul. Psha!
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 preordained this moment for my happiness. [Takes her in his arms.
Mrs. Sul. You will not! cannot, sure! [83]
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!