Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Wor. Wor.
Wor. The Prince of Wales stept forth before the king,
Wor. And Nephew, challeng'd you to single fight.
Hot. Hot.
Hot. O, would the quarrell lay vpon our heads,
Hot. And that no man might draw short breath to day,
Hot. But I and Harry Monmouth. Tell me, tell mee,
Hot. How shew'd his Talking? Seem'd it in contempt?
Ver. Ver.
Ver. No, by my Soule: I neuer in my life
Ver. Did heare a Challenge vrg'd more modestly,
Ver. Vnlesle a Brother should a Brother dare
Ver. To gentle exercise, and proofe of Armes.
Ver. He gaue you all the Duties of a Man,
Ver. Trimm'd vp your praises with a Princely tongue,
Ver. Spoke your deseruings like a Chronicle,
Ver. Making you euer better then his praise,
Ver. By still dispraising praise, valew'd with you:
Ver. And which became him like a Prince indeed,
Ver. He made a blushing citall of himselfe,