1    What's your name, sir? of what condition are you,
2    and of what place, I pray?

3    I am a knight, sir, and my name is Colevile of the dale.

4    Well, then, Colevile is your name, a knight is your
5    degree, and your place the dale: Colevile shall be
6    still your name, a traitor your degree, and the
7    dungeon your place, a place deep enough; so shall
8    you be still Colevile of the dale.

9    Are not you Sir John Falstaff?

10   As good a man as he, sir, whoe'er I am. Do ye
11   yield, sir? or shall I sweat for you? if I do
12   sweat, they are the drops of thy lovers, and they
13   weep for thy death: therefore rouse up fear and
14   trembling, and do observance to my mercy.

15   I think you are Sir John Falstaff, and in that
16   thought yield me.

17   I have a whole school of tongues in this belly of
18   mine, and not a tongue of them all speaks any other
19   word but my name. An I had but a belly of any
20   indifference, I were simply the most active fellow
21   in Europe: my womb, my womb, my womb, undoes me.
22   Here comes our general.

23   The heat is past; follow no further now:
24   Call in the powers, good cousin Westmoreland.
Exit WESTMORELAND
25   Now, Falstaff, where have you been all this while?
26   When every thing is ended, then you come:
27   These tardy tricks of yours will, on my life,
28   One time or other break some gallows' back.

29   I would be sorry, my lord, but it should be thus: I
30   never knew yet but rebuke and cheque was the reward
31   of valour. Do you think me a swallow, an arrow, or a
32   bullet? have I, in my poor and old motion, the
33   expedition of thought? I have speeded hither with
34   the very extremest inch of possibility; I have
35   foundered nine score and odd posts: and here,
36   travel-tainted as I am, have in my pure and
37   immaculate valour, taken Sir John Colevile of the
38   dale, a most furious knight and valorous enemy.
39   But what of that? he saw me, and yielded; that I
40   may justly say, with the hook-nosed fellow of Rome,
41   'I came, saw, and overcame.'

42   It was more of his courtesy than your deserving.

43   I know not: here he is, and here I yield him: and
44   I beseech your grace, let it be booked with the
45   rest of this day's deeds; or, by the Lord, I will
46   have it in a particular ballad else, with mine own
47   picture on the top on't, Colevile kissing my foot:
48   to the which course if I be enforced, if you do not
49   all show like gilt twopences to me, and I in the
50   clear sky of fame o'ershine you as much as the full
51   moon doth the cinders of the element, which show
52   like pins' heads to her, believe not the word of
53   the noble: therefore let me have right, and let
54   desert mount.

55   Thine's too heavy to mount.

56   Let it shine, then.

57   Thine's too thick to shine.

58   Let it do something, my good lord, that may do me
59   good, and call it what you will.

60   Is thy name Colevile?

61   It is, my lord.

62   A famous rebel art thou, Colevile.

63   And a famous true subject took him.

64   I am, my lord, but as my betters are
65   That led me hither: had they been ruled by me,
66   You should have won them dearer than you have.

67   I know not how they sold themselves: but thou, like
68   a kind fellow, gavest thyself away gratis; and I
69   thank thee for thee.

70   Now, have you left pursuit?

71   Retreat is made and execution stay'd.

72   Send Colevile with his confederates
73   To York, to present execution:
74   Blunt, lead him hence; and see you guard him sure.
Exeunt BLUNT and others with COLEVILE
75   And now dispatch we toward the court, my lords:
76   I hear the king my father is sore sick:
77   Our news shall go before us to his majesty,
78   Which, cousin, you shall bear to comfort him,
79   And we with sober speed will follow you.

80   My lord, I beseech you, give me leave to go
81   Through Gloucestershire: and, when you come to court,
82   Stand my good lord, pray, in your good report.

83   Fare you well, Falstaff: I, in my condition,
84   Shall better speak of you than you deserve.

85   I would you had but the wit: 'twere better than
86   your dukedom. Good faith, this same young sober-
87   blooded boy doth not love me; nor a man cannot make
88   him laugh; but that's no marvel, he drinks no wine.
89   There's never none of these demure boys come to any
90   proof; for thin drink doth so over-cool their blood,
91   and making many fish-meals, that they fall into a
92   kind of male green-sickness; and then when they
93   marry, they get wenches: they are generally fools
94   and cowards; which some of us should be too, but for
95   inflammation. A good sherris sack hath a two-fold
96   operation in it. It ascends me into the brain;
97   dries me there all the foolish and dull and curdy
98   vapours which environ it; makes it apprehensive,
99   quick, forgetive, full of nimble fiery and
100  delectable shapes, which, delivered o'er to the
101  voice, the tongue, which is the birth, becomes
102  excellent wit. The second property of your
103  excellent sherris is, the warming of the blood;
104  which, before cold and settled, left the liver
105  white and pale, which is the badge of pusillanimity
106  and cowardice; but the sherris warms it and makes
107  it course from the inwards to the parts extreme:
108  it illumineth the face, which as a beacon gives
109  warning to all the rest of this little kingdom,
110  man, to arm; and then the vital commoners and
111  inland petty spirits muster me all to their captain,
112  the heart, who, great and puffed up with this
113  retinue, doth any deed of courage; and this valour
114  comes of sherris. So that skill in the weapon is
115  nothing without sack, for that sets it a-work; and
116  learning a mere hoard of gold kept by a devil, till
117  sack commences it and sets it in act and use.
118  Hereof comes it that Prince Harry is valiant; for
119  the cold blood he did naturally inherit of his
120  father, he hath, like lean, sterile and bare land,
121  manured, husbanded and tilled with excellent
122  endeavour of drinking good and good store of fertile
123  sherris, that he is become very hot and valiant. If
124  I had a thousand sons, the first humane principle I
125  would teach them should be, to forswear thin
126  potations and to addict themselves to sack.
Enter BARDOLPH
127  How now Bardolph?

128  The army is discharged all and gone.

129  Let them go. I'll through Gloucestershire; and
130  there will I visit Master Robert Shallow, esquire:
131  I have him already tempering between my finger and
132  my thumb, and shortly will I seal with him. Come away.