&c.

ACT I.

SCENE I.

_A Dressing-Room in Bannow-Castle, in Ireland._

_Enter Sir WILLIAM HAMDEN, in his morning-gown._

_Sir W._ Every thing precisely in order, even in Ireland!--laid, I do believe, at the very same angle at which they used to be placed on my own dressing-table, at Hamden-place, in Kent. Exact Gilbert! most punctual of valet de chambres!--and a young fellow, as he is, too! It is admirable!--Ay, though he looks as if he were made of wood, and moves like an automaton, he has a warm heart, and a true English spirit--true-born English every inch of him. I remember him, when first I saw him ten years ago at his father's, Farmer Ashfield's, at the harvest-home; there was Gilbert in all his glory, seated on the top of a hay-rick, singing,

"Then sing in praise of men of Kent, So loyal, brave, and free; Of Britain's race, if one surpa.s.s, A man of Kent is he!"

How he brought himself to quit the men of Kent to come to Ireland with me is wonderful. However, now he is here, I hope he is tolerably happy: I must ask the question in direct terms; for Gilbert would never speak till spoken to, let him feel what he might.

_Sir W._ (_calls_) Gilbert!--Gilbert!

_Enter GILBERT._

_Gilb._ Here, sir.

_Sir W._ Gilbert, now you have been in Ireland some weeks, I hope you are not unhappy.

_Gilb._ No, sir, thank you, sir.

_Sir W._ But are you happy, man?

_Gilb._ Yes, sir, thank you, sir.

[_GILBERT retires, and seems busy arranging his master's clothes: Sir WILLIAM continues dressing._

_Sir W._ (_aside_) _Yes, sir, thank you, sir._ As dry as a chip--sparing of his words, as if they were his last. And the fellow can talk if he would--has humour, too, if one could get it out; and eloquence, could I but touch the right string, the heartstring. I'll try again. (_Aloud_) Gilbert!

_Gilb._ Yes, sir. (_Comes forward respectfully._)

_Sir W._ Pray what regiment was it that was pa.s.sing yesterday through the village of Bannow?

_Gilb._ I do not know, indeed, sir.

_Sir W._ That is to say, you saw they were Highlanders, and that was enough for you--you are not fond of the Scotch, Gilbert?

_Gilb._ No, sir, I can't say as I be.

_Sir W._ But, Gilbert, for my sake you must conquer this prejudice.

I have many Scotch friends whom I shall go to visit one of these days--excellent friends they are!

_Gilb._ Are they, sir? If so be you found them so, I will do my best, I'm sure.

_Sir W._ Then pray go down to the inn here, and inquire if any of the Scotch officers are there.

_Gilb._ I will, sir. I heard say the officers went off this morning.

_Sir W._ Then you need not go to inquire for them.

_Gilb._ No, sir. Only as I heard say, the drum-major and band is to stay a few days in Bannow, on account of their wanting to enlist a new bugle-boy. I was a thinking, if so be, sir, you thought well of it, on account you like these Scotch, I'd better to step down, and see how the men be as to being comfortable.

_Sir W._ That's right, do. Pray, have they tolerable accommodations at the inn in this village?

_Gilb._ (_smiling_) I can't say much for that, sir.

_Sir W._ (_aside_) Now I shall set him going. (_Aloud_) What, the inn here is not like one of our English inns on the Bath road?

_Gilb._ (_suppressing a laugh_) Bath road! Bless you, sir, it's no more like an inn on the Bath road, nor on any road, cross or by-road whatsomdever, as ever I seed in England. No more like--no more like than nothing at all, sir!

_Sir W._ What sort of a place is it, then?

_Gilb._ Why, sir, I'd be ashamed almost to tell you. Why, sir, I never seed such a place to call an inn, in all my born days afore. First and foremost, sir, there's the pig is in and out of the kitchen all day long, and next the calf has what they call the run of the kitchen; so what with them brute beasts, and the poultry that has no coop, and is always under one's feet, or over one's head, the kitchen is no place for a Christian, even to eat his bread and cheese in.

_Sir W._ Well, so much for the kitchen. But the parlour--they have a parlour, I suppose?

_Gilb._ Yes, sir, they have a parlour as they may call it, if they think proper, sir. But then again, an honest English farmer would be _afeard on_ his life to stay in it, on account of the ceiling just a coming down a' top of his head. And if he should go up stairs, sir, why that's as bad again, and worse; for the half of them there stairs is rotten, and ever so many pulled down and burnt.

_Sir W._ Burnt!--the stairs?

_Gilb._ Burnt, sir, as sure as I'm standing here!--burnt, sir, for fuel one _scarce year_, as they says, sir. Moreover, when a man does get up the stairs, sir, why he is as bad off again, and worse; for the floor of the place they calls the bedchamber, shakes at every step, as if it was a coming down with one; and the walls has all cracks, from top to toe--and there's rat-holes, or holes o' some sort or t'other, all in the floor: so that if a man don't pick his steps curiously, his leg must go down through the ceiling below. And moreover, there's holes over head through the roof, sir; so that if it rains, it can't but pour on the bed. They tell me, they used for to shift the bed from one place to another, to find, as they say, the dry corner; but now the floor is grown so crazy, they dare not stir the bed for their lives.

_Sir W._ Worse and worse!

_Gilb._ And moreover, they have it now in the worst place in the whole room, sir. Close at the head of the bed, there is a window with every pane broke, and some out entirely, and the women's petticoats and the men's hats just stuck in to _stop all for the night_, as they say, sir.

[_GILBERT tries to stifle his laughter._

_Sir W._ Laugh out, honest Gilbert. In spite of your gravity and your civility, laugh. There is no harm, but sometimes a great deal of good done by laughing, especially in Ireland. Laughing has mended, or caused to be mended, many things that never would have been mended otherwise.

_Gilb._ (_recovering his gravity_) That's true, I dare to say, sir.

_Sir W._ Now, Gilbert, if you were to keep an inn, it would be a very different sort of inn from what you have been describing--would not it?

_Gilb._ I hope so, sir.

_Sir W._ I remember when we were talking of establishing you in England, that your father told me you would like to set up an inn.