_Job._ Commit me! you will please to observe, Sir Simon, I remember'd my duty, till you forgot yours. You asked me, at first, to sit down in your presence. I knew better than to do so, before a baronet and a justice of peace. But I lose my respect for my superior in rank, when he's so much below my equals in fair dealing:--and, since the magistrate has left the chair [_Slams the Chair into the middle of the Room._] I'll sit down on it. [_Sits down._] There!--'Tis fit it should be fill'd by somebody--and, dam'me if I leave the house till you redress my daughter, or I shame you all over the county! _Sir Simon._ Why, you impudent mechanic! I shou'dn't wonder if the scoundrel call'd for my clerk, and sign'd my mittimus. [_Rings the Bell._] Fellow, get out of that chair. _Job._ I sha'n't stir. If you want to sit down, take another. This is the chair of justice: it's the most uneasy for you of any in the room. _Enter SERVANT._ _Sir Simon._ Tell Mr. Rochdale to come to me directly. _Serv._ Yes, Sir Simon. [_Sees JOB._] Hee! hee! _Sir Simon._ Don't stand grinning, you booby! but go. _Serv._ Yes, Sir Simon. Hee! he! [_Exit._ _Job._ [_Reaching a Book from the Table._] "Burn's Justice!" _Sir Simon._ And how dare you take it up? _Job._ Because you have laid it down. Read it a little better, and, then, I may respect you more.--There it is. [_Throws it on the Floor._ _Enter FRANK ROCHDALE._ _Sir Simon._ So, sir! prettily I am insulted on your account! _Frank._ Good Heaven, sir! what is the matter? _Sir Simon._ The matter! [_Points to JOB._] Lug that old bundle of brass out of my chair, directly. [_FRANK casts his Eyes on THORNBERRY, then on the Ground, and stands abashed._ _Job._ He dare as soon jump into one of your tin-mines. Brass!--there is no baser metal than hypocrisy: he came with that false coin to my shop, and it pass'd; but see how conscience nails him to the spot, now! _Frank._ [_To SIR SIMON._] Sir, I came to explain all. _Sir Simon._ Sir, you must be aware that all is explained already. You provoke a brazier almost to knock me down; and bring me news of it, when he is fix'd as tight in my study, as a copper in my kitchen. _Frank._ [_Advancing to JOB._] Mr. Thornberry, I---- _Job._ Keep your distance! I'm an old fellow; but if my daughter's seducer comes near me, I'll beat him as flat as a stewpan. _Frank._ [_Still advancing._] Suffer me to speak, and-- _Job._ [_Rising from the Chair, and holding up his Cane._] Come an inch nearer, and I'll be as good as my word. _Enter PEREGRINE._ _Pereg._ Hold! _Job._ Eh! you here? then I have some chance, perhaps, of getting righted, at last. _Pereg._ Do not permit passion to weaken that chance. _Job._ Oh, plague! you don't know;--I wasn't violent till----