HENRICH. A foreign president wants to talk with your Honor.
HERMAN. Tell him to come again in half an hour, and say that there are two hat-makers here to see me whom I must despatch. Henrich! Ask the citizens to go away till to-morrow. Oh, God help me, poor man! I am so jumbled up in my head that I don't know myself what I am saying or doing. Can't you help me to get it straightened out, Henrich?
HENRICH (returning from the door), I know no better advice for his
Honor than to go and hang himself.
HERMAN. Go and get me The Political Stockfish. It is lying on the sitting-room table—a German book in a white binding. Perhaps I can find in it how I should receive foreign presidents.
HENRICH. Does the burgomaster want mustard and butter with it?
HERMAN. No, it is a book in a white binding. (Exit Henrich. While he is gone Herman absent-mindedly tears the hatters' document to pieces. Reenter Henrich with the book.}
HENRICH. Here is the book. But what is it, sir, that you are tearing up? I believe it's the master hatters' complaint.
HERMAN. Oh, I did that without thinking. (He takes the book and throws it on the floor.) I believe, Henrich, I had better take your advice and hang myself.
HENRICH. Oh, Lord! Another knock! (Exit. Reenter in tears.) Oh, Mr.
Burgomaster! Help, Mr. Burgomaster!
HERMAN. What's up?