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Of capital treason I attach you both.
Mow. Is this proceeding just and honorable?
Arch. Will you thus break your faith?
I pawn'd thee none :
I promised you redress of these same grievances,
Another part of the forest.
Alarums. Excursions. Enter FALSTAFF and COLEVILE meeting.
Fal. What's your name, sir? of what condition are you? and of what place, I pray?
Cole. I am a knight, sir; and my name is Colevile of the dale.
Fal. Well, then, Colevile is your name; a knight
is your degree; and your place, the dale: Colevile shall still be your name; a traitor your degree; and the dungeon your place,—a place deep enough; so shall you still be Colevile of the dale.
Cole. Are not you sir John Falstaff?
Fal. As good a man as he, sir, whoe'er I am. Do ye yield, sir? or shall I sweat for you? If I do sweat, they are drops of thy lovers, and they weep for thy death: therefore rouse up fear and trembling, and do observance to my mercy.
Cole. I think you are sir John Falstaff; and, in that thought, yield me.
Fal. I have a whole school of tongues in this belly of mine, and not a tongue of them all speaks any other word but my name. An I had but a belly of any indifferency, I were simply the most active fellow in Europe: my womb, my womb, my womb undoes me. Here comes our general.
P. John. The heat is past; follow no farther
Call in the powers, good cousin Westmoreland.
[Exit Westmoreland, Now, Falstaff, where have you been all this while? When every thing is ended, then you come. These tardy tricks of yours will, on my
One time or other break some gallows' back.
Fal. I would be sorry, my lord, but it should be
SCENE III. KING HENRY IV.-PART II.
thus: I never knew yet, but rebuke and check was
the reward of valor.
Do you think me a swallow,
P. John. It was more of his courtesy than your deserving.
Fal. I know not: here he is, and here I yield him and I beseech your grace, let it be booked with the rest of this day's deeds; or, by the Lord, I will have it in a particular ballad else, with mine own picture on the top of it, Colevile kissing my foot to the which course if I be enforced, if you do not all show like gilt twopences to me; and I, in the clear sky of fame, o'ershine you as much as the full moon doth the cinders of the element, which show like pins' heads to her;-believe not the word of the noble: therefore let me have right, and let desert mount.
1 Julius Cæsar.
2 A ludicrous term for the stars.
P. John. Thine 's too heavy to mount.
P. John. Thine's too thick to shine.
Fal. Let it do something, my good lord, that may do me good, and call it what you will.
P. John. Is thy name Colevile ?
Cole. It is, my
P. John. A famous rebel art thou, Colevile. Fal. And a famous true subject took him. Cole. I am, my lord, but as my betters are, That led me hither: had they been ruled by me, You should have won them dearer than you have.
Fal. I know not how they sold themselves: but thou, like a kind fellow, gavest thyself away; and I thank thee for thee.
P. John. Now, have you left pursuit?
Blunt, lead him hence; and see you guard him
Fal. My lord, I beseech you, give me leave to go through Glostershire; and, when you come to
court, stand my good lord,1 pray, in your good report.
P. John. Fare you well, Falstaff: I, in my condition,2
Shall better speak of you than you deserve. [Exit. Fal. I would, you had but the wit; 'twere better than dukedom. Good faith, this same young sober-blooded boy doth not love me; nor a man cannot make him laugh:—but that's no marvel; he drinks no wine. There's never any of these demure boys come to any proof; 3 for thin drink doth so overcool their blood, and making many fish-meals, that they fall into a kind of male green-sickness; and then, when they marry, they get wenches: they are generally fools and cowards;-which some of us should be too, but for inflammation. A good sherrissack hath a twofold operation in it: it ascends me into the brain; dries me there all the foolish, and dull, and crudy vapors which environ it; makes it apprehensive, quick, forgetive, full of nimble, fiery and delectable shapes, which delivered o'er to the voice, (the tongue) which is the birth, becomes excellent wit. The second property of your excellent sherris is, the warming of the blood; which, before cold and settled, left the liver white and pale, which is the badge of pusillanimity and cowardice: but the sherris warms it, and makes it course from
2 In my good nature.'-Johnson.
3 Coufirmed state of manhood