Basil. Murderess!
Flor. I will do all. O God!
Enter ARTHUR, L.
Sir Sim. Who is this? 'Tis their father! I promised him that Arthur should wed my daughter. He is come to claim her, and see, he beckons me—
[Falls back and dies in the chair, servants bear him off, R.]
Basil. Dead, dead! I am frustrated.
Flor. Oh, Arthur! look to my father.
Arth. [Returning and supporting her.] Thou hast no father, Florence! I have a home for thee, with one that's young and gentle like thyself. [She faints.]
Basil. Mark, thou art my brother! I swear [Aside.]
I will have vengeance! At the moment too
She yielded. Beggar, thus to thwart me—Oh,
If I dar'd, I could smite him, as he smiles
On that unconscious, pretty piece of goods.
[Retires, L., surly, looking at ARTHUR. Servants come in with BARBARA.]