Merc. Sosia, come back.
Sos. No, I thank you; you may whistle me long enough; a beaten dog has always the wit to avoid his master.
Merc. I permit thee to be Sosia again.
Sos. 'Tis an unfortunate name, and I abandon it: he that has an itch to be beaten, let him take it up for Sosia;—What have I said now! I mean for me; for I neither am nor will be Sosia.
Merc. But thou may'st be so in safety; for I have acknowledged myself to be god Mercury.
Sos. You may be a god, for aught I know; but the devil take me if ever I worship you, for an unmerciful deity as you are.
Merc. You ought to take it for an honour to be drubbed by the hand of a divinity.
Sos. I am your most humble servant, good Mr God; but, by the faith of a mortal, I could well have spared the honour that you did me. But how shall I be sure that you will never assume my shape again?
Merc. Because I am weary of wearing so villainous an outside.