Pereg. Have the candour to suppose, Sir Simon, that I mean no disrespect to your house. Although I may stickle, lustily, with you, in the cause of an aggrieved man, believe me, early habits have taught me to be anxious for the prosperity of the Rochdales.
Sir Simon. Early habits!
Pereg. I happened to be born on your estate, Sir Simon; and have obligations to some part of your family.
Sir Simon. Then, upon my soul, you have chosen a pretty way to repay them!
Pereg. I know no better way of repaying them, than by consulting your family honour. In my boyhood, it seem'd as if nature had dropp'd me a kind of infant subject on your father's Cornish territory; and the whole pedigree of your house is familiar to me.
Sir Simon. Is it? Confound him, he has heard of the miller! [Aside.] Sir, you may talk this tolerably well; but 'tis my hope—my opinion, I mean, you can't tell who was my grandfather.
Pereg. Whisper the secret to yourself, Sir Simon; and let reason also whisper to you, that, when honest industry raises a family to opulence and honours, its very original lowness sheds lustre on its elevation;—but all its glory fades, when it has given a wound, and denies a balsam, to a man, as humble, and as honest, as your own ancestor.
Sir Simon. But I haven't given the wound.—And why, good sir, won't you be pleased to speak your sentiments!
[To Frank, who has retired, during the above Conversation, to the Back of the Room.
Frank. The first are, obedience to my father, sir; and, if I must proceed, I own that nothing, in my mind, but the amplest atonement, can extinguish true remorse for a cruelty.