O’Bla. Except the penal.
Mr. Carv. True, the civil is for us, men of property; and no man should think of going to law, without he’s qualified. There should be licenses.
O’Bla. No doubt. Pinalties there are in plinty; still those who can afford should indulge. In Ireland it would as ill become a gentleman to be any way shy of a law-shute, as of a duel.
Mr. Carv. Yet law is expensive, sir, even to me.
O’Bla. But ‘tis the best economy in the end; for when once you have cast or non-shuted your man in the courts, ‘tis as good as winged him in the field. And suppose you don’t get sixpence costs, and lose your cool hundred by it, still it’s a great advantage; for you are let alone to enjoy your own in pace and quiet ever after, which you could not do in this county without it. But the love of the law has carried me away from my business: the pint I wanted to consult you about is not a pint of law; ‘tis another matter.
Mr. Carv. (looking at his watch) I must be at Bob’s Fort, to seal my despatches for the castle. And there’s another thing I say of myself.
O’Bla. (aside) Remorseless agotist!
Mr. Carv. I don’t know how the people all have got such an idea of my connexions at the castle, and my influence with his Excellency, that I am worried with eternal applications: they expect I can make them all gaugers or attorney-generals, I believe. How do they know I write to the castle?
O’Bla. Oh! the post-office tells asy by the big sales (seals) to your despatches—(aside)—which, I’ll engage, is all the castle ever, rades of them, though Carver has his Excellency always in his mouth, God help him!
Mr. Carv. Well, you wanted to consult me, Gerald?