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