CARL.
Letters from the local mail.
[Lays them on the table.]
[Exit.]
COLONEL.
There is something up, here, too. I dread to open them. [Breaks open the first one.] What the devil! A poem?—and to me? "To our noble opponent, the best man in town."—Signed? What is the signature? "B—aus!" B—aus? I don't know it, it must be a pseudonym! [Reads.] It seems to be exceedingly good poetry!—And what have we here? [Opens the second letter.] "To the benefactor of the poor, the father of orphans." An address!—[Reads.] "Veneration and kindliness."—Signature: "Many women and girls." The seal a P.P.—Good God, what does it all mean? Have I gone mad? If these are really voices from the town, and if that is the way people look on this day, then I must confess men think better of me than I do of myself!
Enter CARL.
CARL.
A number of gentlemen wish to speak to you, Colonel.