Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Fal. songs. A plague of all Cowards, I say still.
Prin. Prin.
Prin. How now Woolsacke, what mutter you?
Fal. Fal.
Fal. A Kings Sonne? If I do not beate thee out of thy
Fal. Kingdome with a dagger of Lath, and driue all thy Sub
Fal. iects afore thee like a flocke of Wilde‑geese, Ile neuer
Fal. weare haire on my face more. You Prince of Wales?
Prin. Why you horson round man? what's the matter?
Fal. Are you not a Coward? Answer me to that, and
Fal. Poines there?
Prin. Ye fatch paunch, and yee call mee Coward, Ile
Prin. stab thee.
Fal. I call thee Coward? Ile see thee damn'd ere I call
Fal. the Coward: but I would giue a thousand pound I could
Fal. run as fast as thou canst. You are straight enough in the