Amph. Well; and for whom dost thou take me?
Merc. For some rogue or other; but what rogue I know not.
Amph. Dost thou not know me for Amphitryon, slave!
Merc. How should I know thee, when I see thou dost not know thyself? Thou Amphitryon! In what tavern hast thou been? and how many bottles did thy business, to metamorphose thee into my lord?
Amph. I will so drub thee for this insolence!
Merc. How now, impudence, are you threatening your betters? I should bring you to condign punishment, but that I have a great respect for the good wine, though I find it in a fool's noddle.
Amph. What, none to let me in? Why, Phædra! Bromia!——
Merc. Peace, fellow; if my wife hears thee, we are both undone. At a word, Phædra and Bromia are very busy; one in making a caudle for my lady, and the other in heating napkins, to rub down my lord when he rises from bed.
Amph. Amazement seizes me!