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 surpass,
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.