(Herman sits down at a table and fumbles among the papers.)

Herman.  It isn’t so easy to be a burgomaster as I thought, Henrich.  I’ve got some things here to look over that the devil himself couldn’t make sense of. (Begins to write, gets sweat from his brow, sits down, and scratches out what he wrote before.) Henrich!

Henrich.  Mr. Burgomaster!

Herman.  What’s that noise you are making?  Can’t you keep quiet?

Henrich.  I’m not moving, Mr. Burgomaster.

Herman (gets up, wipes his face, and throws his wig upon the floor, to see if he can think better with his head bare.  He steps over the wig, kicks it to one side, sits down to write again, and calls out).  Henrich!

Henrich.  Mr. Burgomaster!

Herman.  You ’ll get into trouble if you don’t stand still.  That’s the second time you have interrupted my train of thought.

Henrich.  Honestly I didn’t do anything but tuck my shirt in and measure on my leg how much too long my livery coat is.

Herman (gets up again and pummels his forehead with his fists to make the thoughts come).  Henrich!

Henrich.  Mr. Burgomaster!

Herman.  Go out and tell the women that are hawking oysters on the street that they mustn’t yell in the street I live in, because they disturb my political deliberations.

Henrich (calls from the doorway, three times in succession).  Listen, you oyster-women!  You rabble!  You carrion!  You shameless wenches!  You married men’s whores!  Is there no decency in you, that you dare to yell like that in the burgomaster’s street and disturb him in his business?

Herman.  Henrich!

Henrich.  Mr. Burgomaster!

Herman.  Shut up, you brute!

Henrich.  It does no good, anyhow, to shout any more, because the town is full of people like that, and as soon as one goes by another comes in his place and—­

Herman.  No more talk.  Stand still and keep your mouth shut. (Sits down, and again scratches out what he has written; writes more, gets up, stamps in anger, and calls.) Henrich!

Henrich.  Mr. Burgomaster!

Herman.  I wish the devil would run off with this burgomastership.  Do you want to be burgomaster in my place?

Henrich.  I’d rather be damned. (Aside.) And any one who would want the office deserves to be damned.

Herman (tries to sit down and go on writing, but he absent-mindedly picks the wrong place and lands on the floor).  Henrich!

Henrich.  Mr. Burgomaster!

Herman.  I’m lying on the floor.

Henrich.  So I see.

Herman.  Come help me up.

Henrich.  But the burgomaster has just said I mustn’t move from where
I stand.