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(In a 19th-century legal judgment studied by all who 
learn the English common law, Sturges v. Bridgeman,
the court found in favour of a "nice" doctor over a
"common" manufacturer, for reasons of pure snobbery.)

The Candyman Can’t

Some legal battles have the power to thrill,
while others never have, and never will.
Some touch on human themes which really matter,
and some do not.  We’re dealing with the latter.
This present case is hardly OJ Simpson:
it lacks dramatic shape, and simply limps on
listlessly, with abstruse reasoning,
no sex or violence to give it seasoning.

One Mister Bridgman manufactures sweets,
in premises where Wigmore crosses/meets
its neighbour, Wimpole.  Eighteen seventy-nine
of our salvation, two lives intertwine
when Doctor Sturges takes consulting rooms
around the corner.  Disagreement looms,
for Bridgman’s grinding, pounding candy line’s
destroying Sturges’ peace, fragging his mind.

The law of nuisance really is quite funny.
It says, “he did you harm?  Well, here’s some money”.
What if you’d rather dodge the damage, and
defer the dollars?  How to countermand
the duty-breach-then-damages regime?
Suppose we interpose a better scheme?
Instead of “you must suffer, he must pay”,
we stop the harm?  The problem goes away!

This ruse is known as “equity”.  It functions
by granting prior relief (they’re called injunctions).
So Sturges stemmed stentorian sweetie sounds
by order of the court, and Bridgman found
his business gagged and bound by hoops of steel,
for no good reason.  What to do?  Appeal!
(For thus advise the lawyers.  Such affairs
drag on for years.  The lawyers?  They get theirs!)

Said Bridgman: “I’ve been cranking out jujubes
for decades now.  It’s all gone down the tubes
because some quack dislikes the earnest hum
of my devices.  Why, then, did he come
to Wimpole Street?  He wants tranquility?
Go hang his shingle in Highgate Cemetery!
I have a remedy for Doctor Sturges:
it’s swallowing his antimony purges!”

But Bridgman lost.  One cannot help but feel
that making toffee wasn’t quite genteel
enough.  Their Lordships said behaviour
that’s unacceptable around Belgravia
can find a home in Bermondsey.  The latter
has lots of lowly types.  It doesn’t matter
if they have noisome noise, and have to live
in filthy fumes – for they’re not sensitive.
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