Enter Accutus.
Accut. Save ye, gallants, sawe ye not a fellowe come halting this way of late?
Scil. Hath he done any hurt, or is hee a friend of yours?
Acut. Hee's a Rascall and ile maintaine him so.
Scil. Hee's a verie Rascall indeede, and he used mee like a knave: if ere I meete him, I shall hardly put it up; I have it in blacke and blue to shew heere.
Serv. Say, I breath defyance to his front.
Acut. Challenge him the field.
Scil. Doos't thinke heele answere me? I'l challenge him at the pich-fork, or the Flaile, or ile wrastle a fall with him for a bloody nose; anye weapon I have bene brought up in ile—
Accut. What will ye? heere he is, you minime, that will be friend with friends and foe with foes; and you that will defie Hercules, and out-brave Mars and feares not the Devil; passe, bladder, ile make ye swell.
Scil. By Gods-lid, if I had knowne it had bene you, I would not have said so to your face. [Exeunt.