Grimaldi's travelling companions were Ellar and his son, all three being engaged by Mr. Harris to act at his theatre in Dublin, and receiving permission to absent themselves from Covent Garden for that express purpose. Since his last journey to the Irish capital in 1805, roads and coaches had improved, and steam-packets had supplied the place of the old sailing-boats, so that they reached their destination in half the time which the same journey had occupied before. The theatre in which they were to act was called the Pavilion, and had formerly been an assembly-room. It was perfectly round, and very ill adapted for dramatic representations; the stage room, too, was so inconvenient, and they were so pressed for want of space, that when "Harlequin Gulliver" was in preparation, they were at a loss where to put the Brobdignagians. These figures were so very cumbersome and so much in the way, that the men who sustained the parts were at last obliged to be dressed and put away in an obscure corner before the curtain was raised, whence they were brought forward when wanted upon the stage, and into which they were obliged to retreat when they had no more to do, and to remain there as quietly as they could, until the pantomime was over, there being actually no room to get them out of their cases. The dresses and makings-up were very cumbrous and inconvenient; but as no other mode of proceeding presented itself, the unfortunate giants were obliged to make the best of a bad bargain, and to remain in a great state of perspiration and fatigue until they could be reduced to the level of ordinary men. Grimaldi pitied the poor fellows so much, that after the first night's performance was over, he thought right to represent to them that no relief could be afforded, and to ask whether they could make up their minds to endure so much labour for the future. [Illustration: George Cruikshank _Grimaldi's kindness to the Giants._] "Well, then," said the spokesman of the party, "we have talked it over together, and we have agreed to do it every night, if your honour--long life to you!--will only promise to do one thing for us; and that is, just to let us have a leetle noggin of whisky after the green rag comes down." This moderate request was readily complied with, and the giants behaved themselves exceedingly well, and never got drunk. The party stayed seven weeks at Dublin. Grimaldi made a great deal of money by the trip, and realized by his benefit alone, two hundred pounds.