Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба

Wherein Mr. Peter Magnus grows jealous, and the middle-aged Lady apprehensive, which brings the Pick

           Herethemagistratetriumphedovertheman;andhelookedsternagain.

           ‘Itisverydistressingtome,Sir,togivethisinformation,’saidMissWitherfield,‘butIfearaduelisgoingtobefoughthere.’

           ‘Here,ma’am?’saidthemagistrate.‘Where,ma’am?’

           ‘InIpswich.’‘InIpswich,ma’am!AduelinIpswich!’saidthemagistrate,perfectlyaghastatthenotion.‘Impossible,ma’am;nothingofthekindcanbecontemplatedinthistown,Iampersuaded.Blessmysoul,ma’am,areyouawareoftheactivityofourlocalmagistracy?Doyouhappentohaveheard,ma’am,thatIrushedintoaprize-ringonthefourthofMaylast,attendedbyonlysixtyspecialconstables;and,atthehazardoffallingasacrificetotheangrypassionsofaninfuriatedmultitude,prohibitedapugilisticcontestbetweentheMiddlesexDumplingandtheSuffolkBantam?AduelinIpswich,ma’am?Idon’tthinkIdonotthink,’saidthemagistrate,reasoningwithhimself,‘thatanytwomencanhavehadthehardihoodtoplansuchabreachofthepeace,inthistown.’

           ‘Myinformationis,unfortunately,buttoocorrect,’saidthemiddle-agedlady;‘Iwaspresentatthequarrel.’

           ‘It’samostextraordinarything,’saidtheastoundedmagistrate.‘Muzzle!’

           ‘Yes,yourWorship.’

           ‘SendMr.Jinkshere,directly!Instantly.’

           ‘Yes,yourWorship.

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