Sladder: Why, when we do come to it, if the young man's any good, I'll not stand in my daughter's way——
Ermyntrude: O, thank you, father.
Sladder: And if he's no good (firmly) I'll protect my child from him.
Ermyntrude: But, father, I don't want to be protected.
Sladder: If a man's a man, he must be some good at something. Well, this man's chosen the clergyman job. I've nothing against the job, it's well enough paid at the top, but is this young man ever going to get there? Is he ever going to get off the bottom rung? How long has he been a curate?
Ermyntrude: Eight years, father.
Sladder: It's a long time.
Ermyntrude: But, father, he would get a vicarage if it wasn't for the bishop. The bishop stands in his way. It isn't nice of him.
Sladder: If I'd quarrelled with the head of my firm when I was his age, you wouldn't be getting proposals from a curate; no such luck. The dustman would have been more in your line.
Ermyntrude: But, father, he doesn't quarrel with the bishop. His conscience doesn't let him believe in eternal punishment, and so he speaks straight out. I do admire him so for it. He knows that if he was silent he'd have had a good living long ago.