O’Ded. To be sure, and that was right. They did their duty: though for sartin, if a poor man can’t pay his debts when he’s at liberty, he wont be much nearer the mark when he’s shut up in idleness in a prison.
Ponder. No.
O’Ded. And when he that sent them there comes to make up his last account, ’tis my belief that he wont be able to show cause why a bill shouldn’t be filed against him for barbarity. Are the writings all ready for sir Rowland?
Ponder. All ready. Shall I now go to farmer Flail’s with the letter?
O’Ded. Aye, and if you see Shuttle’s wife in your way, give my service to her; and d’ye hear, as you’re a small talker, don’t let the little you say be so cursed crabbed; and if a few kind words of comfort should find their way from your heart to your tongue, don’t shut your ugly mouth, and keep them within your teeth. You may tell her that if she can find any body to stand up for her husband, I shan’t be over nice about the sufficiency of the bail. Get you gone.
Ponder. I shall. Let me see! farmer Flail—Mrs. Muddle, his neighbour—Shuttle’s wife—and a whole string of messages and memorandums—here’s business enough to bother the brains of any ordinary man! You are pleased to say, sir, that I am too much addicted to thinking—I think not. [Exit Ponder.
O’Ded. By my soul, if an attorney wasn’t sometimes a bit of a rogue, he’d never be able to earn an honest livelihood. Oh Mr. O’Dedimus! why have you so little when your heart could distribute so much!
Sir Rowland, without.
Sir Row. Mr. O’Dedimus—within there!
O’Ded. Yes, I’m within there.