Job. A tradesman, Sir Simon. I have been a freeholder, in this district, for many a year.
Sir Simon. A freeholder!—Zounds! one of Frank's voters, perhaps, and of consequence at his election. [Aside.] Won't you, my good friend, take a chair?
Job. Thank you, Sir Simon, I know my proper place. I didn't come here to sit down with Sir Simon Rochdale, because I am a freeholder; I come to demand my right, because you are a justice.
Sir Simon. A man of respectability, a tradesman, and a freeholder, in such a serious case as yours, had better have recourse to a court of law.
Job. I am not rich, now, Sir Simon, whatever I may have been.
Sir Simon. A magistrate, honest, friend, can't give you damages:—you must fee counsel.
Job. I can't afford an expensive lawsuit, Sir Simon:—and, begging your pardon, I think the law never intended that an injured man, in middling circumstances, should either go without redress, or starve himself to obtain it.
Sir Simon. Whatever advice I can give you, you shall have it for nothing; but I can't jump over justice's hedges and ditches. Courts of law are broad high roads, made for national convenience; if your way lie through them, 'tis but fair you should pay the turnpikes. Who is the offender?
Job. He lives on your estate, Sir Simon.
Sir Simon. Oho! a tenant!—Then I may carry you through your journey by a short cut. Let him marry your daughter, my honest friend.