RICH CITIZEN. [In a very bored manner.] Yes. Women run after me day and night. Ambitious mothers throw their marriageable daughters at my head. Men seek my advice on all matters. I am compelled to head this and that committee.
[Smokes languidly.
JUDGE. [Sharply.] Well, go on.
RICH CITIZEN. Really, Judge, my prestige has become a burden. I want to get away from it all. I would like to become a plain, ordinary man with an humble vocation, the humbler the better, so that people will cease bothering me.
JUDGE. [Sarcastically.] Is your prestige all that troubles you? Don't worry about your morals, I suppose. Satisfied with your habits and character?
RICH CITIZEN. [Coldly.] What have my habits or morals got to do with my request? [Scornfully.] Certainly I am not one of your saintly men. I live as a man of my station should live, and I think I measure up very well with the best of them. I am simply bored and I would like a change. I would like to be a plain man with an humble calling.
JUDGE. [Ironically.] I'll see what we have in humble callings. [He looks at the ledger, turning the leaves over slowly.] We have several bartenders' vocations.
RICH CITIZEN. [Wearily smoking.] No. Too many people about all the time, and too much noise.
JUDGE. Well, here's a janitor's job open to you.
RICH CITIZEN. [Impatiently throwing away his cigarette.] No. I don't like that, either. Too confining. Too many people bickering at you all the time. I want to get out in the open, away from crowds.