Vet. We've had our lesson, sir.
Orl. [Suspiciously] And this happy meeting is to encourage yourselves in good intentions?
Vet. Sir, we are true men.
[Vasil suddenly appears in door, rear, waving a paper]
Vasil. I have it: The song is ready!
Adr. [Looking meaningly at Vasil] Don't be so sure of your first effort, my boy. Better let it get cold.
Orl. No, we'll hear it. That paper looks interesting.
Vasil. Pardon me. [Folds paper and puts it into his pocket]
Orl. I insist upon hearing it.
Vasil. [Taking paper out reluctantly] 'Tis merely a song, sir, and will hardly bear reading. I will sing it for you. [Unfolds paper slowly] A Welcome to Summer, friends. 'Tis an old chorus, and you can help me with it. [Sings]