perhaps, under mono-mania, but pure and gentle as the babe new-born--not
satisfied with traducing honest Ben Burke as a most suspicious witness,
probably a murderer--ay, _the_ murderer himself, a mere riotous ruffian
[Ben here chucked his cap at him, and thereby countenanced the charge],
a mere scoundrel, not to say scamp, whom no one should believe upon his
oath; he again, with all the semblance of sincerity, accused, however
vainly, Roger Acton: and lastly, to the disgust and astonishment of the
whole court, added, with all acted appearances of fervent zeal for
justice, "And I charge his pious daughter, too, that far too pretty
piece of goods, Grace Acton, with being accessory to this atrocious
crime after the fact!"

There was a storm of shames and hisses; but the judge allayed it,
quietly saying,

"Mr. Sharp, be so good as to confine your attention to your client; he
appears to be quite worthy of you."

Then Mr. Sharp, like the firm just man immortalized by Flaccus, stood
stout against the visage of the judge, sneered at the wrath of citizens
commanding things unjust, turned to Ben Burke minaciously, calling him
"_Dux inquieti turbidus Adriæ_" [as Burke had heard this quotation, he
thought it was about the "ducks" he had been decoying], and altogether
seemed not about to be put down, though the huge globe crack about his
ears. After this, he calmly worded on, seeming to regard the judge's
stinging observation with the same sort of indifference as the lion
would a dew-drop on his mane; and having poured out all manner of
voluminous bombast, he gradually ran down, and came to a conclusion;
then, jumping up refreshed, like the bounding of a tennis-ball, he
proceeded to call witnesses; and, judging from what happened at the