_Enter JOB THORNBERRY, MARY, and SIMON._

_Job._ Don't tell me;--I come upon justice business.

_Simon._ Sir Simon be a gentleman justice.

_Job._ If the justice allows all his servants to be as saucy as you, I can't say much for the gentleman.

_Simon._ But these ben't his hours.

_Job._ Hours for justice! I thought one of the blessings of an Englishman, was to find justice at any time.

_Mary._ Pray don't be so----

_Job._ Hold your tongue, child. What _are_ his hours?

_Simon._ Why, from twelve to two.

_Job._ Two hours out of four and twenty! I hope all that belong to law, are a little quicker than his worship; if not, when a case wants immediate remedy, it's just eleven to one against us. Don't you know me?

_Simon._ Na.

_Job._ I'm sure I have seen you in Penzance.

_Simon._ My wife has got a chandler's shop there.

_Job._ Haven't you heard we've a fire engine in the church?

_Simon._ What o' that?

_Job._ Suppose your wife's shop was in flames, and all her bacon and farthing candles frying?

_Simon._ And what then?

_Job._ Why then, while the house was burning, you'd run to the church for the engine. Shou'dn't you think it plaguy hard if the s.e.xton said, "Call for it to-morrow, between twelve and two?"

_Simon._ That be neither here nor there.

_Job._ Isn't it! Then, do you see this stick? [_Menacing._

_Simon._ Pshaw! you be a foolish old fellow.

_Job._ Why, that's true. Every now and then a jack-in-office, like you, provokes a man to forget his years. The cudgel is a stout one, and som'at like your master's justice;--'tis a good weapon in weak hands; and that's the way many a rogue escapes a dressing.--What!

you are laughing at it?

_Simon._ Ees.

_Job._ Ees! you Cornish baboon, in a laced livery!--Here's something to make you grin more--here's half a crown.

[_Holding it up between his Finger and Thumb._

_Simon._ Hee! hee!

_Job._ Hee, hee!--d.a.m.n your Land'send chops! 'tis to get me to your master:--but, before you have it, though he keeps a gentleman-justice-shop, I shall make free to ring it on his counter.

[_Throws it on the Floor._] There! pick it up. [_SIMON picks up the money._] I am afraid you are not the first underling that has stoop'd to pocket a bribe, before he'd do his duty.--Now, tell the gentleman-justice, I want to see him.

_Simon._ I'll try what I can do for you. [_Exit._

_Job._ What makes you tremble so, Mary?

_Mary._ I can't help it:--I wish I could persuade you to go back again.

_Job._ I'll stay till the roof falls, but I'll see some of 'em.

_Mary._ Indeed, you don't know how you terrify me. But, if you go to Sir Simon, you'll leave me here in the hall;--you won't make me go with you, father?

_Job._ Not take you with me.--I'll go with my wrongs in my hand, and make him blush for his son.

_Mary._ I hope you'll think better of it.

_Job._ Why?

_Mary._ Because, when you came to talk, I should sink with shame, if he said any thing to you that might----that----

_Job._ Might what?

_Mary._ [_Sighing, and hanging down her Head._] Make you blush for your daughter.

_Job._ I won't have you waiting, like a pet.i.tioner, in this hall, when you come to be righted. No, no!

_Mary._ You wouldn't have refused me any thing once;--but I know I have lost your esteem, now.

_Job._ Lost!--forgive is forgive, all the world over. You know, Mary, I have forgiven you: and, making it up by halves, is making myself a bra.s.s teakettle--warm one minute, cold the next; smooth without, and hollow within.

_Mary._ Then, pray, don't deny me!--I'm sure you wouldn't, if you knew half I am suffering.

_Job._ Do as you like, Mary; only never tell me again you have lost my esteem. It looks like suspicion o' both sides.--Never say that, and I can deny you nothing in reason,--or, perhaps, a little beyond it.--

_Enter SIMON._

Well, will the justice do a man the favour to do his duty? Will he see me?

_Simon._ Come into the room next his libery. A stranger, who's with young master, ha' been waiting for un, longer nor you; but I'll get you in first.

_Job._ I don't know, that that's quite fair to the other.

_Simon._ Ees, it be; for t'other didn't give I half a crown.

_Job._ Then, stay till I come back, Mary.--I see, my man, when you take a bribe, you are scrupulous enough to do your work for it; for which, I hope, somebody may duck you with one hand, and rub you dry with the other. Kindness and honesty, for kindness and honesty's sake, is the true coin; but many a one, like you, is content to be a pa.s.sable Birmingham halfpenny. [_Exeunt JOB THORNBERRY and SIMON._