WHITE. But surely, you understand, my dear sir, that when one speaks professionally---- DE W. Sir, no one has business to tell lies, professionally or not; a man should always speak what he thinks. I follow the dictates of my heart, and I always speak what I think; my heart is in my heart, and my heart is in my mouth. WHITE. What a complicated piece of anatomy you must be. DE W. I say, my heart is in my mouth. WHITE. Then I wish you would swallow it, and say no more about it. DE W. Yes, I dare say you think that a very good joke, but what I am going to tell you is no joke. If Pawkins is a thief, you shan't have my daughter, and Tango shall. WHITE. Monstrous! DE W. Not at all, I give you my girl because I regard you as a noble defender of persecuted innocence; but if persecuted innocence turns out to be a low pilfering scoundrel, I naturally retract. WHITE. But, my dear, sir, the doctrine you so strangely maintain is diametrically opposed to the very principles of British jurisprudence. It is one of the high privileges of our blessed country, and of several others, that even the vilest and meanest criminal is allowed a professional defender in the courts of justice. DE W. Sir, it is one of the high privileges of our blessed country, and of several others, that a man need not give away his daughter where he don't like. WHITE. But, sir, by virtue of my profession I am positively bound to---- DE W. Well, I don't say you're not. But an honest man, sir, should have nothing to do with clients that don't come into court with clean hands. WHITE. My dear Mr. De Windsor, borrow a little wisdom from your own business. If everybody had clean hands, what would become of the soap trade? DE W. Go, go, and defend every pickpocket, forger, coiner, housebreaker, in London. I don't want to hinder you, I only say that I won't give my daughter to a man who makes respectable people blubber till they are shoved out of court, on purpose to defeat the ends of justice. WHITE. Then, sir, I suppose, because he furthers the ends of justice, you would give your daughter to the hangman. DE W. (_puzzled_) Ahem! I shall not condescend to answer an argument so obviously sophistical. I only repeat what I said before. If Pawkins is a thief you sha'n't have my daughter. WHITE. (_aside_) Reason is wasted on this old blockhead! I must try another tack. (_aloud_) Ah, you have passed nobly through the ordeal. Just to sound you I hinted at the remote possibility of Pawkins' guilt, but he is in point of fact, as we both know, innocent as the babe unborn. Did not the jury say so? However, ta, ta! for the present, sir. (_aside_) I must look out, egad! I was only retained as the rascal's counsel, but I find I am his bail. _Exit, C., off L._ DE W. I'm sure he spoke of five small children! No; decidedly this legal morality won't suit me. No, no--no barrister for me--decidedly a stockjobber! _Enter THWAITES, C., from R._