Acut. Stoope and looke out, zounds a Gentleman cannot come by a misfortune in service or so, but everie foole wil ride him. Take that. [Exit.
Gra. Sirra, stay, ile combat thee in his defence.
Serv. Sir, be pacifical, the impotent must be lightly regarded.
Grac. Give me leave Gentlemen, ile follow him.
Scil. Nay, I pray you be malcontented, I have no great hurt, but in revenge hee's a rascall for using me so; he may thank God, discretion governed me, tis wel known I have always bene a man of peace; ile not strike yee the least mouse in anger, nor hurt the poorest Conney that goes in the street, for I know of fighting comes quarrelling, of quarrelling comes brawling, and of brawling growes hard words, and as the learned puerelis[259] writes, tis good sleeping in a whole skin.
Grac. Sir, your discretion shall governe me at this time. Your name, I pray ye sir?
Scil. My name is signior Scillicet.
Grac. Even so sir? nay, sir, I doe not forget your Argument.
Enter Accutus.
Acut. Save ye, sir, saw ye not a Gentleman come this way even now, somewhat hurt in one of his Legges?