(_aside_) Oh Lord, my teeth do--itch! He’s going to give me a welcome on my arrival, he surely is,--a fisty welcome! He’s a kind-hearted soul, I do believe. Seeing how master’s kept me awake all night, he’s going to up with his fists now and put me to sleep. Oh, I’m dead entirely! For God’s sake look at the size of him, and strong, heavens! _Mer._ Clare advorsum fabulabor, ut his auscultet quae loquar; 300 igitur magis demum maiorem in sese concipiet metum, agite, pugni, iam diu est quom ventri victum non datis: iam pridem videtur factum, heri quod homines quattuor in soporem collocastis nudos. (_aside_) I’ll speak out aloud, so that he can hear what I say, and then I warrant he’ll feel shakier still. (_loudly, with melodramatic fierceness_) Fists, be up and doing! ’Tis long since ye have made provision for my paunch. It seems an age since yesterday when ye stripped stark four men and laid them away in slumber. _Sos._ Formido male, ne ego hic nomen meum commutem et Quintus fiam e Sosia; quattuor nudos sopori se dedisse hic autumat; metuo ne numerum augeam illum. (_aside_) Oh, but I’m awfully scared my name will be changed here and now, from Sosia to Sosia the Fifth. Four men he’s stripped already and sent to slumberland, so he says: I’m afraid I’m going to swell that list. _Mer._ Em, nunciam ergo: sic volo. (_tightening his girdle_) There, now then! ’Tis well. _Sos._ Cingitur; certe expedit se. (_aside_) Loins girded! He is surely getting ready for business. _Mer._ Non feret quin vapulet. He shall not escape a trouncing. _Sos._ Quis homo? (_aside, anxiously_) Who, who? _Mer._ Quisquis homo huc profecto venerit, pugnos edet. I tell ye, any man that comes this way shall eat fists. _Sos._ Apage, non placet me hoc noctis esse: cenavi modo: 310 proin tu istam cenam largire, si sapis, esurientibus. (_aside_) No you don’t! I don’t care about eating at this time o’ night. It wasn’t long ago I dined. So if you’ve got any sense, you just bestow that dinner on the hungry. _Mer._ Haud malum huic est pondus pugno. (_examining his right fist_) There’s some weight in that fist. _Sos._ Perii, pugnos ponderat. (_aside_) I’m finished! He’s a-weighing his fists! _Mer._ Quid si ego illum tractim tangam, ut dormiat? (_sparring_) What if I should stroke him softly into somnolence? _Sos._ Servaveris, nam contiuas has tris noctes pervigilavi. (_aside_) You’d save my life: I haven’t slept a wink for three nights running. _Mer._ Pessumest, facimus nequiter, ferire malam male discit manus; alia forma esse oportet quem tu pugno legeris.