Stra. That you allow me to be gone to-morrow, and not endeavour to detain me.
Bar. Go! Whither?
Stra. No matter! Promise this, or I will not come.
Bar. Well, I do promise. Come.
Stra. I have directions to give my servant.
Bar. In half an hour then we shall expect you. Remember, you have given your word.
Stra. I have. [Exit Baron.—The Stranger walks up and down, thoughtful and melancholy.]—Francis!
Enter Francis.
Fra. Sir!
Stra. Why are you out of the way?