Bow. Rafferdi!—You re an Irishman, ain't you? What do you mean by deceiving us?
Raf. Sure I didn't. It's the lawyer chap there. I paid him fifty cints and he's lying out the worth of it.
Bow. You fellows are regular nuisances! I've a great mind to commit you.
Splin. Commit him! If the Court please—reflect—commit him—to prison—what will become of his monkey?
Bow. Well, I'll commit him too.
Splin. You cannot. I defy the Court to find anything in the Statutes authorizing the committal of the monkey.
Bow. Well, we'll leave out the monkey.
Splin. And if the Court please, what is the monkey to do in the wide world, with his natural protector in prison? I appeal to those kindlier feelings in your honor's breast—which must ever temper justice with mercy. This monkey is perhaps an orphan!
Bow. (Laughing.) Take them both away, and don't let me catch you here again Mr. Rafferdi or you ll go to jail.
9-9-9. (Pulling Sam who is drunk out of a crowd.) Get up here.
Sam. (Noisily.) Look yah—don't pull me around.
Bow. Silence there! what's all this noise about?
Sam. Whar's de Court? I want to see de Judge.
Splin. (Approaching him.) My colored friend can I assist you?
Sam. Am you a Counsellor-at-Law?
Splin. Yes, retain me! How much money have you got?
Sam. I ain't got no money but I've got a policy ticket. It' bound to draw a prize.
Splin. Got any pawn tickets?
Sam. Ob course. (Giving him a handful.)
Bow. Well, what's the charge?
9-9-9. (R. H. C.) Drunk and disorderly.
Bow. Well, my man, what have you to say?
Sam. Dis here gemman represents me.
Splin. We admit, if the Court please, that we were slightly intoxicated, but we claim the privilege, as the equal of the white man.
Bow. (To Clerk.) Very good! Commit him for ten days.
Splin. But this is an outrage, your honor.
Bow. (To Officer.) Take him off! (Motioning to Sam.) (Splinter sits down discomfited, Sam very wroth.)
Sam. What?
Bow. Take him away.
Sam. Look here, judge, hab you read the Civil Right Bill? You can't send dis nigger to prison while dat bill am de law of de land.
Bow. That'll do—remove him.
Sam. I ain't no gipsy, I'm one of de Bureau niggers, I am! Where am de law? Don't touch me, white man! Dis am corruption—dis am 'ficial delinquency.
9-9-9. (Collars him and carries him off.)
Sam. Mr. Stevens! Thaddeus! (Exit R. H. 1 E.
Bow. Any more prisoners? (Noise L. 1 E.) What noise is that?
(Officer goes out. Byke enters, followed by the officer who escorts Laura.)
Byke. Where is the judge? O, where is the good, kind judge?
