Dol. [At desk L. 3 E.] George Washington, you’re a fool—your magnanimous nature has suffered you to be imposed upon—you’re a—[Coriolanus puts his head in D. R. 4 E.]
Cor. I beg your pardon, sir! [He Enters.] In the excitement of the moment I neglected to inform you that a lady called to see you. I informed her that you were out of town. She was much distressed at the information. She waited for you until eight o’clock, when she left in a state of great mental excitement. She’s been waiting since six o’clock this morning, waiting your arrival.
Dol. If she comes back don’t let her in. Tell her to come to-morrow morning. I cannot attend to any more business before court. [He busies himself among papers.]
Cor. [Bows.] I fly! [Exit D. R. 4 E.]
Dol. Egad! Some people must think lawyers are made of iron and work like machines! No! I’ll listen to no more cases before court. I’ve only got one head and one pair of arms. [Coriolanus puts his head in D. R. 4 E. To Coriolanus.] Well, sir! What now?
Cor. [Enters.] She’s come back! I delivered your message. She wrung her hands and said she came eighteen miles to see you, and she must return at noon.
Dol. I can’t help it! She must come another time. I positively decline to see any one before court.
Cor. I quicken! [Exit D. R. 4 E.]
Dol. Some one without money to try to enlist my sympathies in helping some scalawag out of trouble. Not long ago I defended a tramp whom I thought unjustly used. I helped him out of the scrape and gave him a bowl of soup and some alms to help him on—and how did the rascal serve me? He published it about the town, and for two weeks I had every tramp from fifty miles around at my door begging for soup and alms. You don’t get George Washington Dollerclutch in such a scrape again. [Sees newspaper.] Hello! what’s this? [Picks up paper and adjusts spectacles. Reads.] “On the Brink of a Civil War.” Lord bless us! [Adjusts his glasses.] “Slavery and Anti-Slavery.” “The Inauguration of Lincoln.” Ah! That’s my man—Old honest Abe! He’ll show those rascally slave masters a thing or two before he’s done with them. [Reads.] “Firing on Fort Sumter.” “Major Ander—”[Drops paper.] Hang it all! I can’t get that girl out of my mind. What the dickens did she want to say that for, anyhow? [Sighs.] Well! Well! [Picks up paper and reads.] “Major Anderson with seventy men, after a brave resistance of three hours against five thousand Secessionists, was finally obliged to surrender.” Eighteen miles to see me? It must be an important case. [Rises to his feet.] Confound it anyhow! Why did I let it slip? [Calls.] Coriolanus!