_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._]

_Arth._ Take her unto her chamber 'till we leave.

[_Servants take FLORENCE off, exeunt, R., all but BASIL._]

_Enter WYCKOFF stealthily to BASIL, L._

_Wyck._ As for your brother, in these troublesome
times, as I said, it were less trouble to put him out of
the way in a broil. Colour it with the affectation of
party spirit, and, as you are on both sides, in a
manner, it matters not on which you disagree. You
might draw swords yourselves, and have me and one
or two stout fellows near, who would rush in and stab
him, as it were, to prevent mischief between you.

_Basil._ I tell you, it will not do. He is a favourite
with Cromwell. How often am I to tell you that I
would not break with Noll. There are secrets! You
see one does not know yet which side will prevail.