Chapter 27
MR. POUR. Ah! I am murdered! What vexation! What a cursed town! Assassinated everywhere!
SBRI. What is it, Sir? Has anything new happened?
MR. POUR. Yes; it rains doctors and women in this country.
SBRI. How is that?
MR. POUR. Two jabbering jades have just been accusing me of being married to both of them, and have threatened me with justice.
SBRI. This is a bad business, for in this country justice is terribly rigorous against that sort of crime.
MR. POUR. Yes; but even if there should be information, citation, decree, and verdict obtained by surprise, default, and contumacy, I have still the alternative of a conflict of jurisdiction to gain time, and a resort to the means of nullity that will be found in the court case.
SBRI. The very terms, and it is easy to see that you are in the profession, Sir.
MR. POUR. I? Certainly not; I am a gentleman.[14]
SBRI. But to speak as you do, you must have studied the law.
MR. POUR. Not at all. It is only common sense which tells me that I shall always be admitted to be justified by facts, and that I could not be condemned upon a simple accusation, without witnesses, evidence, and confrontation with my adverse party.
SBRI. This is more clever still.
MR. POUR. These words come into my head without my knowledge.
SBRI. It seems to me that the common sense of a gentleman may go so far as to understand what belongs to right and the order of justice, but not to know the very terms of chicane.
MR. POUR. They are a few words I remember from reading novels.
SBRI. Ah! I see.
MR. POUR. To show you that I understand nothing of chicane, I beg of you to take me to a lawyer to have advice upon this affair.
SBRI. Willingly. I will take you to two very clever men; but, first, I must tell you not to be surprised at their manner of speaking. They have contracted at the bar a certain habit of declaiming which looks like singing, and you would think all they tell you is nothing but music.
MR. POUR. It does not matter how they speak, as long as they tell me what I wish to know!