Amphitryon | Page 6

done for, miserable creature that I am! I see a man before our house whose mien bodes me no good. I will sing a little to show some semblance of assurance.
(He sings; and, when Mercury speaks, his voice weakens, little by little.)
MERC. What rascal is this, who takes the unwarrantable licence of singing and deafening me like this? Does he wish me to curry his coat for him?
SOS. Assuredly that fellow does not like music.
MERC. For more than a week, I have not found any one whose bones I could break; my arm will lose its strength in this idleness. I must look out for some one's back to get my wind again.
SOS. What the deuce of a fellow is this? My heart thrills with clutching fear. But why should I tremble thus? Perhaps the rogue is as much afraid as I am, and talks in this way to hide his fear from me under a feigned audacity. Yes, yes, I will not allow him to think me a goose. If I am not bold, I will try to appear so. Let me seek courage by reason; he is alone, even as I am; I am strong, I have a good master, and there is our house.
MERC. Who goes there?
SOS. I.
MERC. Who, I?
SOS. I. Courage, Sosie!
MERC. Tell me, what is your condition?
SOS. To be a man, and to speak.
MERC. Are you a master, or a servant?
SOS. As fancy takes me.
MERC. Where are you going?
SOS. Where I intend to go.
MERC. Ah! This annoys me.
SOS. I am ravished to hear it.
MERC. By hook or by crook, I must definitely know all about you, you wretch; what you do, whence you come before the day breaks, where you are going, and who you may be.
SOS. I do good and ill by turns; I come from there; I go there; I belong to my master.
MERC. You show wit, and I see you think to play the man of importance for my edification. I feel inclined to make your acquaintance by slapping your face.
SOS. Mine?
MERC. Yours; and there you get it, sharp. (Mercury gives him a slap.)
SOS. Ah! Ah! This is a fine game!
MERC. No; it is only a laughing matter, a reply to your quips.
SOS. Good heavens! Friend, how you swing out your arm without any one saying anything to you.
MERC. These are my lightest clouts, little ordinary smacks.
SOS. If I were as hasty as you, we should have a fine ado.
MERC. All this is nothing as yet: it is merely to fill up time; we shall soon see something else; but let us continue our conversation.
SOS. I give up the game. (He turns to go away.)
MERC. Where are you going?
SOS. What does it matter to you?
MERC. I want to know where you are going.
SOS. I am going to open that door. Why do you detain me?
MERC. If you dare to go near it, I shall rain down a storm of blows on you.
SOS. What? You wish to hinder me from entering our own house by threats?
MERC. What do you say, your house?
SOS. Yes, our house.
MERC. O, the scoundrel! You speak of that house?
SOS. Certainly. Is not Amphitryon the master of it?
MERC. Well! What does that prove?
SOS. I am his valet.
MERC. You?
SOS. I.
MERC. His valet?
SOS. Unquestionably.
MERC. Valet of Amphitryon?
SOS. Of Amphitryon himself.
MERC. Your name is?
SOS. Sosie.
MERC. Eh? What?
SOS. Sosie.
MERC. Listen: do you realise that my fist can knock you spinning?
SOS. Why? What fury has seized you now?
MERC. Tell me, who made you so rash as to take the name of Sosie?
SOS. I do not take it; I have always borne it.
MERC. O what a monstrous lie! What confounded impudence! You dare to maintain that Sosie is your name?
SOS. Certainly; I maintain it, for the good reason that the Gods have so ordered it by their supreme power. It is not in my power to say no, and to be any one else than myself.
(Mercury beats him.) MERC. A thousand stripes ought to be the reward of such audacity.
SOS. Justice, citizens! Help! I beseech you.
MERC. So, you gallows-bird, you yell out?
SOS. You beat me down with a thousand blows, and yet do not wish me to cry out?
MERC. It is thus that my arm . . .
SOS. The action is unworthy. You gloat over the advantage which my want of courage gives you over me; that is not fair treatment. It is mere bullying to wish to profit by the poltroonery of those whom one makes to feel the weight of one's arm. To thrash a man who does not retaliate is not the act of a generous soul; and to show courage against men who have none merits condemnation.
MERC. Well! Are you still Sosie? What say you?
SOS. Your blows have not made any metamorphosis in me; all the change there is is that in