{40}

_Arch_. And I--with admiration!

[_Looks passionately at her_.

_Mrs. Sul_. What will become of me?

_Arch_. How beautiful she looks!--The teeming jolly
Spring smiles in her blooming face, and, when she
was conceived, her mother smelt to roses, looked on
lilies--

Lilies unfold their white, their fragrant charms,
When the warm sun thus darts into their arms.

[_Runs to her_.

_Mrs. Sul_. Ah! [_Shrieks_.

_Arch_. 'Oons, madam, what d' ye mean? you 'll raise the
house. {51}

_Mrs. Sul_. Sir, I 'll wake the dead before I bear this!--
What! approach me with the freedom of a keeper!
I 'm glad on't, your impudence has cured me.

_Arch_. If this be impudence--[_Kneels_.] I leave to your
partial self; no panting pilgrim, after a tedious,
painful voyage, e'er bowed before his saint with
more devotion. {58}

_Mrs. Sul_. [_Aside_.] Now, now, I 'm ruined if he kneels!
--[_Aloud_.] Rise, thou prostrate engineer, not all
thy undermining skill shall reach my heart.--Rise,
and know I am a woman without my sex; I can
love to all the tenderness of wishes, sighs, and tears
--but go no farther.--Still, to convince you-that
I'm more than woman, I can speak my frailty,
confess my weakness even for you, but--

_Arch_. For me! [_Going to lay hold on her_.

_Mrs. Sul_. Hold, sir! build not upon that; for my most
mortal hatred follows if you disobey what I command you
now.--Leave me this minute.--[_Aside_.]
If he denies I 'm lost. {71}

_Arch_. Then you 'll promise--

_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!

_Mrs. Sul_. You shall kill me first!

_Arch_. I 'll die with you. [_Carrying her off_.

_Mrs. Sul_. Thieves! thieves! murder! {91}

_Enter Scrub in his breeches, and one shoe_