Job. Aye!
[Emphatically.
Sir Simon. Pray, friend, be quiet.
Steward. He says it would make her more unfortunate still; he's too necessitous to provide even for the living consequence of his indiscretion.
Sir Simon. That doubles his crime to the girl.—He must quit. I'm a magistrate, you know, Mr. Pennyman, and 'tis my duty to discourage all such immorality.
Steward. Your orders must be obeyed, Sir Simon.
[Exit Steward.
Sir Simon. Now, yours is justice-business, you say. You come at an irregular time, and I have somebody else waiting for me; so be quick. What brings you here?
Job. My daughter's seduction, Sir Simon;—and it has done my heart good to hear your worship say, 'tis your duty to discourage all such immorality.
Sir Simon. To be sure it is;—but men, like you, shou'dn't be too apt to lay hold of every sentiment justice drops, lest you misapply it. 'Tis like an officious footman snatching up his mistress's periwig, and clapping it on again, hind part before. What are you?