_Basil._ I would I could see him. But I have promised mine uncle not, and he cannot bear any shock to his health. Go, tell him this. _Will._ Worshipful Master Basil! you will excuse me, but I must speak my master's mind. He saith he hath signed away his inheritance to thee, and that he expects this small gift, ere he comes among ye. He is but in sorry plight of dress, and he hath ever shown much affection for you. _Basil._ Does he threaten? Hark ye, I owe him nought. Let justice be done. The fortune was mine by birth. Our father acted basely. My brother did very properly restore it. Shall he boast of a bare act of justice? He hath no claim on me. Shall I furnish his profligacies, his expenses, his foreign debaucheries, because I have gotten back mine own? _Will._ You will not see him?-- _Basil._ No! _Will._ Nor send him the money?-- _Basil_. No! except with the proviso I told thee of. _Will._ You have no other message?-- _Basil._ No! _Will._ Oh! Well, sir, I think the execution of my barren commission needs no farther stay. Touching that small portion of mammon wherewith thou wouldst endow my master's passage across the seas, in his name I will venture to refuse the gratility. _Basil._ Wouldst jest, villain? There are stocks! Back to the beggar that sent thee. [_Exit R._] [_WILLIAM going, L., FLORENCE approaches him from behind._] _Flor._ Good friend! I have heard something of your discourse. I would fain see thy master. _Will._ Art thou not his cousin, lady? _Flor._ I am. _Will._ He hath often spoken of thee far hence. _Flor._ We were children together. Is his temper sweet as it used to be? Hath he grown taller? I have much to say to him. Is he sunburnt? Doth he wear a beard? They say much ill of him. _Will._ Lady! believe it not; [_aside_]--for I affect much his society. [_Aloud._] He is a good master and kind, though of a strange mood. For women, he cannot abear them. _Flor._ Indeed! Good friend, nevertheless I must see your master. Bring me to him. _Will._ I am going to the inn, where he awaits me. Will it please you to meet me opposite the old barn in two hours? _Flor._ I will, I will, for I need his advice much. I am sore distressed. Here is for thee. Lose no time! [_Gives him money._] Farewell! [_Exit R._] _Will._ By'r lady, angels! both of them. [_Exit L._] SCENE III. _An extensile landscape, with a road on the L; overhung with foliage. A Country Inn, U.E.R. Table, chairs, villagers sitting, a waiter bringing in refreshments during the symphony of the following_ GLEE and CHORUS. Cold, oh! cold the March winds be; High up in a leafless tree The little bird sits and wearily twits, The woods with perjury: But the cuckoo-knave sings hold his stave, (Ever the spring comes merrily) And "O poor fool!" sings he-- For this is the way in the world to live, To mock when a friend hath no more to give, Whether in hall or tree!