Ye fat paunch, and yee call mee Coward, Ile
stab thee
Fal. I call thee Coward? Ile see thee damn'd ere I call
the Coward: but I would giue a thousand pound I could
run as fast as thou canst. You are straight enough in the
shoulders, you care not who sees your backe: Call you
that backing of your friends? a plague vpon such backing:
giue me them that will face me. Giue me a Cup
of Sack, I am a Rogue if I drunke to day
Prin. O Villaine, thy Lippes are scarce wip'd, since
thou drunk'st last
Falst. All's one for that.
He drinkes.
A plague of all Cowards still, say I
Prince. What's the matter?
Falst. What's the matter? here be foure of vs, haue
ta'ne a thousand pound this Morning
Prince. Where is it, Iack? where is it?
Falst. Where is it? taken from vs, it is: a hundred
vpon poore foure of vs
Prince. What, a hundred, man?
Falst. I am a Rogue, if I were not at halfe Sword with
a dozen of them two houres together. I haue scaped by
miracle. I am eight times thrust through the Doublet,
foure through the Hose, my Buckler cut through and
through, my Sword hackt like a Hand-saw, ecce signum.
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