FALSTAFF. I would be sorry, my lord, but it should be thus. I never knew yet but rebuke and check was the reward of valour. Do you think me a swallow, an arrow, or a bullet? Have I, in my poor and old motion, the expedition of thought? I have speeded hither with the very extremest inch of possibility; I have foundered nine score and odd posts; and here, travel-tainted as I am, have in my pure and immaculate valour, taken Sir John Colevile of the Dale, a most furious knight and valorous enemy. But what of that? He saw me, and yielded; that I may justly say, with the hook-nosed fellow of Rome, “I came, saw, and overcame.” LANCASTER. It was more of his courtesy than your deserving. FALSTAFF. 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 on’t, 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. LANCASTER. Thine’s too heavy to mount. FALSTAFF. Let it shine, then. LANCASTER. Thine’s too thick to shine. FALSTAFF. Let it do something, my good lord, that may do me good, and call it what you will. LANCASTER. Is thy name Colevile? COLEVILE. It is, my lord. LANCASTER. A famous rebel art thou, Colevile. FALSTAFF. And a famous true subject took him. COLEVILE. 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. FALSTAFF. I know not how they sold themselves, but thou, like a kind fellow, gavest thyself away gratis, and I thank thee for thee. Enter Westmoreland. LANCASTER. Now, have you left pursuit? WESTMORELAND. Retreat is made and execution stay’d. LANCASTER. Send Colevile with his confederates To York, to present execution. Blunt, lead him hence, and see you guard him sure. [_Exeunt Blunt and others with Colevile._] And now dispatch we toward the court, my lords. I hear the King my father is sore sick. Our news shall go before us to his Majesty, Which, cousin, you shall bear to comfort him, And we with sober speed will follow you. FALSTAFF. My lord, I beseech you give me leave to go through Gloucestershire, and, when you come to court, stand my good lord, pray, in your good report. LANCASTER. Fare you well, Falstaff. I, in my condition, Shall better speak of you than you deserve. [_Exeunt all but Falstaff._]