Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Post. (An honest one I warrant) who deseru'd
Post. So long a breeding, as his white beard came to,
Post. In doing this for's Country. Athwart the Lane,
Post. He, with two striplings (Lads more like to run
Post. The Country base, then to commit such slaughter,
Post. With faces fit for Maskes, or rather fayrer
Post. Then those for preseruation cas'd, or shame)
Post. Made good the passage, cryed to those that fled.
Post. Our Britaines hearts dye flying, not our men,
Post. To darknesse fleete soules that flye backwards; stand,
Post. Or we are Romanes, and will giue you that
Post. Like beasts, which you shun beastly, and may saue
Post. But to looke backe in frowne: Stand, stand. These three,
Post. Three thousand confident, in acte as many:
Post. For three performers are the File, when all
Post. The rest do nothing. With this word stand, stand,
Post. Accomodated by the Place; more Charming
Post. With their owne Noblenesse, which could haue turn'd
Post. A Distaffe, to a Lance, guilded pale lookes;
Post. Part shame, part spirit renew'd, that some turn'd coward