It was a long day in Edgartown district court, and amid the serious business taking place in his courtroom, the Hon. H. Gregory Williams couldn’t help but inject an occasional quip to leaven the proceedings, if only by a little bit.

After all, he faced a 15-page list of criminal cases last Friday, which included motions, pleas, arraignments and other pretrial hearings. That didn’t include small claims cases and a trial that spilled over into this week.

In a small claims case, the judge delivered good news to a Chilmark man who had been sued by Capital One Bank over what it alleged was a $22,000 credit card bill. When the bank failed to show up for Friday’s hearing, the judge dismissed the case. The bank might decide to refile the lawsuit, the judge told the man, but on this day, the defendant had prevailed.

When the man began to speak, the judge held up his hand. “Don’t say too much,” he advised. “You won.”

“Best to get out of the courthouse as quickly as possible,” he added, eliciting laughs from the lawyers, court spectators and even a few of the handcuffed criminal defendants sitting in the dock.

“To celebrate!” the man responded, heading for the exit.

“Be careful of that,” added the judge, having processed several drunken driving cases already that morning.

In a criminal case, the judge found himself yelling to be heard by a 78-year-old man who came to court to plead guilty to charges stemming from a traffic accident.

With his left hand cupping his ear, the gray-bearded defendant was then brought to within a few feet of the judge to respond to questions about entering a plea, but still had trouble. Judge Williams asked the man’s attorney, Charles Morano, whether he had discussed the implications of the guilty plea with his client.

“We did,” said Mr. Morano. “Very loudly.”

Finally, after the man was placed on probation, he thanked the judge, who nodded and said to no one in particular, “I won’t be able to talk the rest of the day.”

Later, when the bellow of a boisterous pedestrian on Main street broke the silence in the second-floor courtroom, the judge didn’t skip a beat:

“And it’s not even July.”