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?