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Seward hands the last prospectus to Nicolay, who unfolds it, places it on top of the other prospectuses, and records details about Hawkins's appointment in a notebook. Seward smokes a cigar, Nicolay a pipe. Lincoln sits, feet up, examining a newspaper.
SEWARD
And lastly, Democratic yes vote
number six. Hawkins from Ohio.
LINCOLN
Six.
SEWARD
Well, thus far. Plus Graylor's
abstention. From tiny acorns and so
on.
LINCOLN
What'd Hawkins get?
JOHN NICOLAY
(STILL WRITING:)
Postmaster of the Millersburg Post
Office.
LINCOLN
He's selling himself cheap, ain't
he?
SEWARD
He wanted tax collector of the
Western Reserve - a first-term
congressman who couldn't manage re-
election, I felt it unseemly and
they bargained him down to
Postmaster.
(TO NICOLAY:)
Scatter `em over several rounds of
appointments, so no one notices.
And burn this ledger, please, after
you're done.
Lincoln stands.
LINCOLN
(TO NICOLAY:)
Time for my public opinion bath.
Might as well let `em in.
Nicolay helps Lincoln trade his shawl for his overcoat in preparation to meet the public.
LINCOLN (CONT'D)
Seven yeses with Mr. Ellis!
Thirteen to go!
SEWARD
One last item, an absurdity, but -
My associates report that among the
Representatives a fantastical
rumor's bruited about, which I
immediately disavowed, that you'd
allowed bleary old Preston Blair to
sojourn to Richmond to invite Jeff
Davis to send commissioners up to
Washington with a peace plan.
Lincoln is silent. A horrifying reality dawns for Seward:
SEWARD (CONT'D)
I, of course, told them you would
never...Not without consulting me,
you wouldn't...Because why on earth
would you?