_Scil_. Nay, and he be lame, ile talke to him; there's so many lustie
knaves walkes now a daies will not sticke to give a man hard words, if
he be not disposed to charitie. Harke ye sir, I understand ye are a
propper man, and that you have a good legge.
_Accut_. And what of that, Sir?
_Scil_. What of that! slid, he answers me like a sturdie beggar
alreadie! by the five elements, or sences, I aske ye for no hurt, ile
bestowe my charitie as franke as--
_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.
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