Gregory.

Tristram, where’s your master? Not at home?

T. shakes his head.

G. Do you know where he is?

T. shakes.

G. Has St. Nicholas been here?

T. nods.

G. Is he gone?

T. nods.

N. (kicking harder), Sir Gregory! Sir Gregory! I am here!

G. Do you expect your master soon?

T. nods.

G. I may sit and await him?

(T. bows and gives a chair. G. sits to table, T. takes doublet from table. The glove falls on the floor. G. takes out papers, and lays them on the table to read them.)

T. (hanging up doublet). Now shall the cupboard-door speak to the old gentleman. (pretends to busy himself. N. makes a great knocking.)

G. Come in! There is some one at the door, Tristram.

T. shakes.

G. I think there is. (goes to the door and opens it: finds no one, and returns.)

(Aside.) Frederick is unaccountably remiss, Most unaccountably remiss.— Tristram, I am sure I hear a noise. What is it?

T. (going up to G., shouts in his ear).

They are sweeping the chimney in the next room, Sir Gregory.

G. Ah.—You would much oblige me, Tristram, if you would go and seek your master, and tell him that I am here.

T. (nodding). I can’t refuse, and I’ve done my duty by St. Nicholas. Yet ’tis sad to miss any of this play. I will go, and be back in a trice. (Passing the cupboard, to N.) Thou silly! he’ll never mind thee.

N. Curse you, Tristram!

T. Hush thee, my babe. [Exit.

G. (walks about restlessly). The man’s as strange as his master. How Diana Can trust her affairs to one so wholly unfit, So unmethodical! And what discomfort The fellow lives in. The room in such disorder: He might be going away for good. Two such Immense portmanteaux. What’s all that for now? There is something going on that I do not know of.... Tristram’s discharged ... that’s true. (sees glove on floor; and picks it up mechanically to put it on the table.) A lady’s glove! Yes, ’tis a lady’s; thrown upon the floor. What see I? that embroidery ... ’Tis Laura’s; Laura’s. St. Nicholas hath been here.— No, no. Yet the only other explanation.... It cannot be ... I see it all.... ’Tis true.... Her tears and strange farewell to me this morning: Her treatment of St. Nicholas: and Frederick, Why he mistook the contract ... these portmanteaux.— By heaven, by heaven, there’s no time to lose: They’re off. (going out, passes close to cupboard. N. makes more noise than ever.) Ha!—Heigh! ’Tis here, then: not in the chimney. Eh!—who’s here? (Opens cupboard.) St. Nicholas!

N. O, Sir Gregory, you would not hear.

G. Who shut you in the cupboard?

N. Tristram.

G. Tristram?

N. assents.

G. And is this Laura’s glove? Look at it.

N. (nodding). It is.

G. Then tell me: did you bring it here? Could you By any chance have dropped it here?

N. (disclaiming by gesture). I? No, sir. I came to seek for Frederick.

G. (to himself). What can this mean, Unless to keep his rival out of the way?— Listen, St. Nicholas, I have discovered something Concerns you nearly.—I think—I am sure— Nay: I’ll not tell you what I suspect.... ’Tis but suspicion. But you have been, I fear, Most shamefully beguiled.

N. Ay, that I was. He said that I should find my settlement In the cupboard.

G. Patience. I will go to Laura And learn the truth. Meanwhile, seek out the Countess, And beg her give me an interview at once. I’ll come to the ante-chamber. By heaven, St. Nicholas.... And yet I scarce know.... There’s no time to lose: Come quickly. [Exeunt.