Pereg. Do not permit passion to weaken that chance.
Job. Oh, plague! you don't know;—I wasn't violent till——
Pereg. Nay, nay; cease to grasp that cane.—While we are so conspicuously bless'd with laws to chastise a culprit, the mace of justice is the only proper weapon for the injured.—Let me talk with you.
[Takes Thornberry aside.
Sir Simon. [To Frank Rochdale.] Well, sir; who may this last person be, whom you have thought proper should visit me?
Frank. A stranger in this country, sir, and——
Sir Simon. And a friend, I perceive, of that old ruffian.
Frank. I have reason to think, sir, he is a friend to Mr. Thornberry.
Sir Simon. Sir, I am very much obliged to you.—You send a brazier to challenge me, and now, I suppose, you have brought a travelling tinker for his second. Where does he come from?
Frank. India, sir. He leap'd from the vessel that was foundering on the rocks, this morning, and swam to shore.