Who goes there?

A friend.

What friend?

The sentinel.

Oho! Comrade, you come to relieve me. I hope the hours may not seem as long for you as they have been for me.

Nay, comrade, it's not so very cold now.

Cold or no, I have had an infernal fright.

How now, chicken-hearted? That is not right for a soldier; he must fear neither friend nor foe, nay, not the devil himself.

Well, if he once grip you by the short hairs you'll learn quickly enough to say the Miserere Domine.

Why, what is it that has frightened you?

Know then that a ghost has appeared on the platform of the castle. Twice it tried to cast me down from the battlements.

Run along, fool; a dead dog does not bite. I shall soon see whether a ghost that has neither flesh nor bones can do me any harm.

Just see if the trouble he gives you makes you see otherwise. I am going to the guard-house. Farewell.

Off with you, then. — Perhaps you were born on a Sunday; all such people can see ghosts. I must attend to my guard duty.

Our new King makes merry; they are drinking healths.