But there are other singularities in _Falstaff_’s lyes, which go more directly to his vindication.—That they are confined to one scene and one occasion only, we are not _now_ at a loss to account for;—but what shall we say to their extravagance? The lyes of _Parolles_ and _Bobadill_ are brought into some shape; but the fictions of _Falstaff_ are so preposterous and _incomprehensible_, that one may fairly doubt if they ever were intended for credit; and therefore, if they ought to be called _lyes_, and not rather _humour_; or, to compound the matter, _humourous rhodomontades_. Certain it is, that they destroy their own purpose, and are clearly not the effect, in this respect, of a regulated practice, and a habit of imposition. The real truth seems to be, that had _Falstaff_, loose and unprincipled as he is, been born a Coward and bred a Soldier, he must, naturally, have been a great _Braggadocio_, a true _miles gloriosus_. But in such case he should have been exhibited active and young; for it is plain that age and corpulency are an excuse for Cowardice, which ought not to be afforded him. In the present case, wherein he was not only involved in suspicious circumstances, but wherein he seems to have felt some conscious touch of infirmity, and having no candid construction to expect from his laughing companions, he bursts at once, and with all his might, into the most unweighed and preposterous fictions, determined to put to proof on this occasion his boasted talent of _swearing truth out of England_. He tried it here, to its utmost extent, and was unfortunately routed on his own ground; which indeed, with such a mine beneath his feet, could not be otherwise. But without this, he had mingled in his deceits so much whimsical humour and fantastic exaggeration that he must have been detected; and herein appears the admirable address of _Shakespeare_, who can shew us _Falstaff_ in the various light, not only of what he is, but what he would have been under one single variation of character,—the want of natural Courage; whilst with an art not enough understood, he most effectually preserves the real character of _Falstaff_ even in the moment he seems to depart from it, by making his lyes too extravagant for practised imposition; by grounding them more upon humour than deceit; and turning them, as we shall next see, into a fair and honest proof of general Courage, by appropriating them to the concealment only of a single exception. And hence it is, that we see him draw so deeply and so confidently upon his former credit for Courage and atchievment: “_I never dealt better in my life,—thou know’st my old ward, Hal_,” are expressions which clearly refer to some known feats and defences of his former life. His exclamations against Cowardice, his reference to his own manhood, “_Die when thou wilt, old __JACK__, if manhood, good manhood, be not forgot upon the face of the earth, then am I