BURGE-LUBIN.  Yes:  I know.  Can you explain it?

CONFUCIUS.  It cannot be explained.  It is not reasonable.  Therefore I do not believe it.

The Accountant General rushes in, looking ghastly.  He staggers to the middle of the table.

BURGE-LUBIN.  Whats the matter?  Are you ill?

BARNABAS [choking] No.  I—­[he collapses into the middle chair].  I must speak to you in private.

Confucius calmly withdraws.

BURGE-LUBIN.  What on earth is it?  Have some oxygen.

BARNABAS.  I have had some.  Go to the Record Office.  You will see men fainting there again and again, and being revived with oxygen, as I have been.  They have seen with their own eyes as I have.

BURGE-LUBIN.  Seen what?

BARNABAS.  Seen the Archbishop of York.

BURGE-LUBIN.  Well, why shouldn’t they see the Archbishop of York?  What are they fainting for?  Has he been murdered?

BARNABAS.  No:  he has been drowned.

BURGE-LUBIN.  Good God!  Where?  When?  How?  Poor fellow!

BARNABAS.  Poor fellow!  Poor thief!  Poor swindler!  Poor robber of his country’s Exchequer!  Poor fellow indeed!  Wait til I catch him.

BURGE-LUBIN.  How can you catch him when he is dead?  Youre mad.

BARNABAS.  Dead!  Who said he was dead?

BURGE-LUBIN.  You did.  Drowned.

BARNABAS [exasperated] Will you listen to me?  Was old Archbishop
Haslam, the present man’s last predecessor but four, drowned or not?

BURGE-LUBIN.  I don’t know.  Look him up in the Encyclopedia Britannica.

BARNABAS.  Yah!  Was Archbishop Stickit, who wrote Stickit on the Psalms, drowned or not?

BURGE-LUBIN.  Yes, mercifully.  He deserved it.

BARNABAS.  Was President Dickenson drowned?  Was General Bullyboy drowned?

BURGE-LUBIN.  Who is denying it?

BARNABAS.  Well, wave had moving pictures of all four put on the screen today for this American; and they and the Archbishop are the same man.  Now tell me I am mad.

BURGE-LUBIN.  I do tell you you are mad.  Stark raving mad.

BARNABAS.  Am I to believe my own eyes or am I not?

BURGE-LUBIN.  You can do as you please.  All I can tell you is that I don’t believe your eyes if they cant see any difference between a live archbishop and two dead ones. [The apparatus rings, he holds the button down].  Yes?

THE WOMAN’S VOICE.  The Archbishop of York, to see the President.

BARNABAS [hoarse with rage] Have him in.  I’ll talk to the scoundrel.

BURGE-LUBIN [releasing the button] Not while you are in this state.

BARNABAS [reaching furiously for his button and holding it down] Send the Archbishop in at once.

BURGE-LUBIN.  If you lose your temper, Barnabas, remember that we shall be two to one.