Giles [grumpily]. 'E 'ave noa will to help 'is father in these sorry times, but ever gawks at stage-plays. 'E 'ull come to noa good end. [The player starts up.]
Peele. Stage-plays—no good end? Have a care, man!
Giles. Nay, zur—noa harm, zur! I—I—canna bide longer. [Backs out.]
Anne [at the window, wonderingly]. He should be here. He hath never lingered till sunset before. [Peele comes up behind her.]
Peele. Troubled, lass?
Anne. Nay, sir, but—but—[Suddenly] Listen!
Peele [blankly]. To what? [A faint singing without.]
Anne [eagerly]. Canst hear nothing—a lilt afar off?
Peele [nodding]. Like a May-day catch? I hear it.
Anne. 'Tis Will! Cousin, Will is coming. [Giles comes back.]