Merc. How familiarly the rascal treats us gods! but I shall make him alter his tone immediately.
[Mercury comes nearer, and stands just before him.
Sos. [Seeing him, and starting back, aside.] How now? what, do my eyes dazzle, or is my dark lanthorn false to me! is not that a giant before our door? or a ghost of somebody slain in the late battle? If he be, 'tis unconscionably done, to fright an honest man thus, who never drew weapon wrathfully in all my life. Whatever wight he be, I am devilishly afraid, that's certain; but, 'tis discretion to keep my own counsel; I'll sing, that I may seem valiant.
[Sosia sings; and, as Mercury speaks,
by little and little drops his voice.
Merc. What saucy companion is this, that deafens us with his hoarse voice? What midnight ballad-singer have we here? I shall teach the villain to leave off catterwauling.
Sos. I would I had courage, for his sake, that I might teach him to call my singing catterwauling! an illiterate rogue! an enemy to the muses, and to music.
Merc. There is an ill savour that offends my nostrils and it wafteth this way.
Sos. He has smelt me out; my fear has betrayed me into this savour. I am a dead man: the bloody villain is at his fee, fa, fum, already.
Merc. Stand, who goes there?
Sos. A friend.