Hem! Very good, sir, as far as it goes. You should finish this and have it ready by the wedding. See! I will thrust it to you under the door. Won’t you take it back? If I have not charmed him to sleep with his own verses! Ha! he bites—he lives. (_N. pulls it to him from within._) (_To himself._) This is very well. But I wonder why my master wished him out of the way; and why he is sent to Milan; and taking all these things with him; and why he is travelling in that doublet. He hath no care for his clothes. Yet I’ll do him a last service, and brush it for him. ’Tis sadly dusty (_having taken it down_). He shall not say that his old valet neglected him in aught. So lie there. (_puts doublet on table._) Pockets full, of course. If I were a gentleman, I’d have no pockets. How can velvet lie? How can one smoothe it down, stuffed out in a lump like this ... an old handkerchief, I’ll warrant ... no ... a glove: a lady’s glove: a very secret affair: one he hath stolen to write verses on. I shall tell the Countess of this. (_Knocking at the door heard._) This will be Mister Ricardo, I suppose. Come in! _Enter Sir Gregory._ _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? 2530 _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._