1832.] The Amphitryon, of Plautus. 325 



The scene of Sosia's repulse by Mercury is too humorous to be 

 omitted. Sosia is coming from the port, according to his master's direc- 

 tions, and while uttering execrations on the unusual length and darkness 

 of the night, is met by the false Sosia, whose attitude of defiance and 

 general appearance alarms the timorous servant of Amphitryon.* 



Sos. What do I see? a man before the house, 

 So late at night ? I like him not. 



MERC. The rogue 

 Has not his equal for rank cowardice. 



Sos. What is he ? By his motions he should seem 

 A weaver, and would fain now trim my jacket. 



MERC. He's frightened : I'll have sport with him. 



Sos. I'm ruin'd : 



How my teeth chatter ! sure he's posted here 

 To give me a reception with his fists. 

 Troth he takes pity on me : and because 

 My master has now made me keep awake, 

 He'll lull me with his fists to sleep. Look, look 

 I'm lost for ever what a swinging rogue ! 

 How brawny ! 



Mercury now perceives Sosia' s great alarm, and proceeds in triumph, 

 by still greater menaces, to work upon his cowardly fears : 



I'll draw nearer, raise my voice, 

 That he may hear me, and from thence conceive 

 More terrible fears within me. (Lowrf) Come my fists, 

 To action ; stir ye ; 'tis a long while 

 Since ye have made provision for my belly. 

 Methinks it is an age since yesterday 

 Ye stript four men, and laid them dead asleep. 



Sos. I'm sore afraid that I shall change my name ; 

 No longer simple Sosia, but be styled 

 Sosia the Fifth. Hz says he laid asleep 

 Four men : I fear I shall increase his number. 



MERC. (Throwing about his arms.) There I could have him ; Sa ! 



this is the way, 

 This does the business. 



Sos. He's prepared for action : 

 He puts himself in posture. 



MERC. He sha'n't 'scape 

 Without a drubbing. 



Sos. Who? 



MERC. Whoever comes 

 This way, shall eat my fists. 



Sos. Psha! I don't like 

 To eat so late at night. Away with them. 

 I supt just now. Then pray bestow your supper 

 On them that have more appetite. 



MERC. This fist 

 Is not of trifling weight. 



Sos. I'm a dead man : 



He s weighing of his fists. //oi 

 



* We forgot to mention in our article on The Captives, that we have used 

 Thornton's translation of Plautus wherever it could be made available. We regret 

 that two typographical errors escaped us at page 151, line 41, for Aristophanes, 

 read Aristophmtes ; and at page 156, line 17, for after, read former. 



