Scene IV. the same, a month later. [Enter Pat, Ziegler, and attendants.] Pat. What’s on the calendar for today? My gosh, it’s cold! These Washington winters just destroy my hair. Go and have them turn up the thermostat, again. [Exit attendant.] So, Ron, what’s today? 5 Ziegler. This afternoon your sons-in-law return. A luncheon is arranged for the benefit of the press. Pat. Ah, good. Today we’ll have … steak. Go and see that it’s prepared to Richard’s liking. [Exit another attendant.] Where is Richard, by the way? 10 Ziegler. In the Oval Office, studying a law suit. Pat. Which suit is that? Ziegler. The one filed by those Democrats against our Republican Party, for damages. Pat. Why, we can’t help it if they lost the election. 15 Ziegler. No, madam, this suit involves only the burglary of their headquarters at the Hotel Watergate last summer. Pat. I was not aware of such a thing. Ziegler. ‘Twas a minor matter, page twenty-three, 20 I think, of the Washington Post. District officers found five hired men in the offices of the Democrats one dark and lonely night. And now the loyal opposition cries, “Espionage!” 25 and files false suit. ‘Twas not of consequence, not even brought up in last year’s campaign. Pat. Ah, I’ve seen dear Richard conferring with his three top men and I have heard the word “espionage” mentioned a number of times. 30 Ziegler. Probably concocting some new campaign strategy to discount these wild Democrat charges. Pat. Ah, the furnace fans warm air across my toes. Ziegler. I feel less chilled already. [Enter servants and prepare a feast.] ‘Tis almost time for Cox and Eisenhower 35 to arrive. I go to greet them and the press that accompanies your daughter’s husbands. [Exit Ziegler.] Pat. Oh how sweet, sweet is the life. How blessed be I who inhabit this white house. No time has e’er been rosier. The petals 40 have bloomed and now we have time to admire their beauty. Ah, my husband, to thy high office, praise. Thou art such a good President. Nay, a great President. Loved by sixty-three per cent of the people, 45 many others of no opinion, which shows contentment. O, noble husband! Master of inflation’s spiral. A nation spared from the hands of economic collapse. O, glorious Richard, thou hast led us from 50 the hands of War and gave us Peace in our own time. Thou hast undone the wrongs of many years by disengaging ourselves from that murderous conflict in Southeast Asia. Thou hast calmed 55 the rugged Russian Bear and soothed the mass of Mainland China. O, good husband, thou art wise to send ping-pong players abroad so that the very President himself might view the Great Wall of China, unseen 60 by Western eye in forty years. O, Richard, thou art marvelous man. And here we go our merry way down another term of glad sung happiness. [Enter Ziegler, Julie, Tricia, Edward Cox, David Eisenhower, Howard K. Smith, and other members of the press.] And now the banquet feast begins. Welcome, 65 my daughters, and your husbands. And welcome newsman Smith. See how happy this family is? Smith. Dear, kind, hostess. Your roots are now firmly entrenched in this house and we so enjoy your hospitality. And here’s the 70 [Enter Richard and Secret Service Agents.] President himself. Sir, do you bring any news? Richard. That’s your game, sir. I’ve no news. You make your own and show it to the millions. Smith. [Aside.] That’s a slur. He has always distrusted our media and lays his woeful blame 75 upon the liberal press for all the things that have ever done him wrong. Richard. But never mind. Come let us feast. [They sit.] How are Edward, and you, David. I trust you’ve kept good care of my daughters? 80 Cox and Eisenhower. Yes, sir. We’ve given them our very best. Pat. [To Smith.] Be not so hard upon my husband. Your newscasts of late have tended to dishonor this man. Yet he has given this country a great glory. 85 Smith. [To Pat.] ‘Tis not my fault, dear hostess. My writers are a sorrowful lot, full of liberal thought, objecting to your conservative philosophies. [Aside.] Ha! I write my own news, but I shall hold 90 my tongue and blame my colleagues, so that I again will be invited to attend these White House functions. [Enter John Chancellor, another member of the press.] Ziegler. Now here’s a man who should bring us some news. How goes the world, John Chancellor? 95 Chancellor. Mr. President, they’ve sung. Pat. Who sings? We’ve scheduled no entertainment for this banquet, have we, Ron? Tricia. I’ve always enjoyed singing. Who comes to entertain? 100 Richard. Singing is fine. But, pray tell, what’s this to do with news? Chancellor. Not song with melody, Mr. President. A song of confession. Richard. What’s this? Confessed? Who? To what? 105 Chancellor. The Watergate Burglars. Richard. Yes, I know. They’ve confessed to breaking and entering. Chancellor. Oh, but they’ve now confessed to crimes more heinous and other acts incredible. Ziegler. What’s this? 110 Chancellor. Listen, as this news is hither unknown to you, listen quite carefully. This very morning, arraigned before Judge Sirrica, the five burglars handed His Honor a sealed envelop. Wherein 115 this letter they infamously outlined all the shady deals cooked up between your campaigners and campaign contributors. Richard. ‘Tis nothing. Politics are full of dark and shady dealings each election night. 120 Chancellor. But none like this! I’m told the letter claims that many of your friends did deeds not just against politeness and ethics, but performed acts that go against the Law. Ziegler. Think nothing of it. These petty criminals 125 go about confessing all sorts of crimes merely to reduce their sentences. I doubt if half their accusations ring true. Chancellor. Let us hope so. For they allege many an ill-got act, conceived and executed 130 by high placed officials and members of this administration. Richard. I’ve done not one thing wrong. No, not one immoral act. These savage agents lie! Inspired by the left-wing press, Mischief 135 conspires to destroy this high office. Away! Let the burglars speak their confound lie. I go and make to them, and you, reply. [Exeunt.]