I would give a hundred thalers if you and our daughter, Miss Engelke, knew how to play it.  You must pay close attention when you see other people play, so you can learn it.  You must lie abed in the morning till nine or half past, for it’s only common people who get up in the summer with the sun.  But on Sunday you must get up a little earlier, as I expect to take physic on that day.  You must get hold of a fine snuff-box, and let it lie on the table near you when you are playing cards.  When any one drinks your health, you mustn’t say “Thanks,” but “Tres humble servitoor.”  And when you yawn, you mustn’t hold your hand before your mouth, because that isn’t done any more among the gentry.  And lastly, when you are in company, you mustn’t be too squeamish, but leave your propriety a little to one side.—­Listen, I forgot something:  you must also get a lap-dog and love it like your own daughter, for that’s fashionable.  Our neighbor Arianke has a pretty dog that she might lend you till we can get one for ourselves.  You must give the dog a French name, which I shall think up when I have time.  It must lie in your lap constantly, and you must kiss it at least half a dozen times, when there are callers.

Geske.  No, my dear husband, I can’t possibly do that, for there’s no telling what a dog has been lying in and getting itself all dirty—­you might get a mouthful of filth or fleas.

Herman.  Here, here, no nonsense!  If you want to be a lady, you must act like a lady.  Besides, a dog like that can supply you with conversation; when you have run short of topics, you can talk about the dog’s qualities and accomplishments.  Just do as I say, my dear; I understand high society better than you do.  Take me as your model.  You shall find that not even the smallest of my old habits will remain.  It won’t happen to me as it did to a butcher, once, when he was made a councillor.  Whenever he had written a page and wanted to turn over the leaf, he put his pen in his mouth, as he used to do with his butcher’s knife.  The rest of you go in now and get things ready.  I want to talk awhile with Henrich alone.

[Exit Geske.]

SCENE 5

Herman.  Listen, Henrich!

Henrich.  Mr. Burgomaster!

Herman.  Don’t you think people will envy me because of this preferment?

Henrich.  Well, what do you care about people who envy you, your Honor?  If only I had been made a burgomaster like that, I should have sent my enviers to death and the devil.

Herman.  The one thing I am a little anxious about is the matter of small ceremonies, for the world is governed by pedantry, and people notice trifles more than solid things.  If only the first day were over, when I make my entry into the City Hall, I should be glad; for as far as substantial business is concerned, that is bread and butter to me.  But I must arrange how I am to meet my colleagues for the first time and make sure that I do not run counter to any of the traditional ceremonies.