Salerne. That was his hope, no doubt. Ah, here he comes!
[Enter Sir Tristram Sumner as Ulysses. His dresser, Temple, follows him, carrying a portmanteau, which he sets on a chair. While Sir Tristram is changing he sometimes stands in the doorway of his dressing-room and sometimes speaks from within. Temple takes from the portmanteau Sir Tristram's evening dress and goes into the dressing-room.]
Sir T. Who had the gallery to-night?
Abbot. A man
Appointed yesterday.
Sir T. A novice?
Abbot. No,
Sir Tristram; from the Parthenon.
Sir T. A soldier?—
The tables and the wine? Is all prepared?
Salerne. Yes; everything.
Sir T. See that they set it out
Courageously.—
[Salerne goes out.]