_Scillicet_. By this illuminate Welkin ye shall now.[235] Sir, I doe not bestowe it, for that I thinke you have neede of it; for if you had, by this bright Horizon, I would not give it, for I know tis no credit to give to the poore. By this illuminate welkin I have (since I tooke upon me this fleshie desire of a Gentleman) throwne out of a window, for a hunts-up, when I had as leef have heard the grinding of a Mustard-Mill; for those are thinges are heere too day, and gone to morrowe; this will sticke by a man, and doe him credit where ere hee goes. _Acut_. I, when the foole is clad in clay, It will sticke sore unto thy soule for aye. _Phy_. Signior _Scillicet_, I assure you I have discovered the most queint and new-found device for the encounter of the Ladies at the interview; tis in pricke-song. _Scil_. That's excellent and rare. _Phi_. I, for prick-song to Ladies is most pleasant and delightfull: as thus for your congie, All hayle to my belooved; then for your departure, sad dispaire doth drive me hence: for all must be to effect. _Grac_. Nay, prethee raise no quarrels. _Acut_. I can holde no longer: heare you, sir, are not you a foole? and you an Asse? and you a knave? _Phy_. Zoundes! an Asse? _Scil_. A Foole? _Ser_. A Knave, without respect? _Acut_. I, for an Asse can beare, a Foole abide, and a Knave deserve. _Omn_. Helpe, Helpe! _Gra_. Prethee let's away. _Acut_. Fooles often brings wise men to trouble, Farewell, another time ile pay ye double. [_Exit_. _Enter Host, Hostesse, and Prentises_. _Host_. Bring your Clubs out of doores. There goe in, my fine hostes, Ile talke to the proudest; what, knaves are i'th streete, my dore is my dore, my house is my castell, goe in dame _Helena_, let thine Host alon with this; he that knocks at my hobby, while I have Ale in my house, shall pay for a Surgeon: the honest shall come in, the knaves shall go by; bring Clubs, I say. _Scil_. Nay, sir, the heate is past, they that did it have tooke them to their heeles, for indeed heere are of us-- _Host_. Away with your Clubs then; welcome, my brave Bullies, my Guests shall take no wrong; but welcome, my Bullies. _Scil_. Indeede sir, I am a man of few words, I have put up a little bloodshed; marrie, I hope it shall be no stain to my manhoode, if I keepe it out of my clothes. _Host_. He shall pay for the blood-shed, my guestes shall take no wrong; mine Host will spend his Cruse as franke as an Emperor; welcome, my brave bullies. _Ser_. Sir, be pacificall, the fellowe was possest with some critique frenzie, and wee impute it to his madnes. _Scil_. Madde! by Gods slid, if he were as madde as a weaver, I can hardly put it up; for my blow, I care not so much, but he cald me foole; slid, if I live till I dye, the one of us shall prove it. _Host_. Some prophane Villaine, ile warrant him. _Scil_. Doe you thinke I may not have an action against him?