What’s your name, sir? Of what condition are you, and of what place, I
pray?
What is your name, sir? What is your social status and where are you from, I ask?
Who are you, and what's your rank and where are you from?
whats your name where you from what rank are you
Colevile appears for just a few speeches, but they're notable. He surrenders out of awe for Falstaff's name — and then, when condemned, notes that had the leaders taken his counsel, the royal army would have paid a higher price. He's the most honest rebel in the play.
I am a knight, sir, and my name is Colevile of the Dale.
I hold the rank of knight, sir, and my family name is Colevile from the Dale region.
I'm a knight, and Colevile is my name—from the Dale.
knight named colevile from the dale
Well, then, Colevile is your name, a knight is your degree, and your
place the Dale. Colevile shall be still your name, a traitor your
degree, and the dungeon your place, a place deep enough; so shall you
be still Colevile of the Dale.
Well then, Colevile is your name, a knight is your rank, and the Dale is your place of origin. Colevile will still be your name, but traitor will now be your rank, and the dungeon will be your place, a dungeon deep enough; and so you will still be called Colevile of the Dale.
So your name is Colevile, you're a knight from the Dale. Well, Colevile stays your name, but now you're a traitor, and your new home is the dungeon—a deep one. So you'll always be Colevile of the Dale.
same name new title traitor new home the dungeon
Are not you Sir John Falstaff?
Surely you cannot be anyone but Sir John Falstaff?
You must be Falstaff, the famous Falstaff.
definitely falstaff
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 the drops of thy lovers, and
they weep for thy death. Therefore rouse up fear and trembling, and do
observance to my mercy.
I'm as good a man as he is, whoever I am. Do you surrender, sir, or do I have to make myself sweat? If I do sweat, those drops are tears from your admirers, and they're weeping for your death. So wake up your fear and trembling, and show respect to my mercy.
I'm as good as any man, whoever I am. Are you going to give up, or do I need to work up a sweat catching you? If I get sweaty, those are tears from people who love you—mourning your death. So get scared and show me some respect while I'm being merciful.
surrender now or ill have to sweat and thats not good for you
I think you are Sir John Falstaff, and in that thought yield me.
I believe you're Sir John Falstaff, and because of that belief, I yield to you.
I think you are Falstaff, and I'm giving up.
ok i think youre falstaff so i give up
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.
I have an entire army of voices in this belly of mine, and every single one of them speaks only my name. If I had a belly of normal size, I would be the most athletic person in all of Europe. My belly, my belly, my belly ruins me. Here comes our general.
This belly of mine has so many voices yelling 'Falstaff,' if I had a normal body I'd be the most active guy in Europe. But my stomach weighs me down. Here comes the general.
my belly screams my name if it was smaller id be the fastest guy in europe but it slows me down
The heat is past; follow no further now.
Call in the powers, good cousin Westmoreland.
The fighting is over; keep pursuing no longer. Call the troops back, good cousin Westmoreland.
The battle's done. Stop chasing them. Westmoreland, bring the troops back.
stop fighting call everyone back
The sack speech is the fullest articulation of Falstaff's worldview. It argues — in comic-medical pseudoscience — that wine is the source of all human virtue: wit, courage, creativity, vitality. Sobriety produces cowardice and foolishness. This isn't just a joke: it's a consistent philosophical position that Falstaff has been embodying throughout both plays. Against the cold political calculations of Prince John, Falstaff's argument that warm vitality is more genuinely human than calculating sobriety has a real point. The speech ends with Falstaff attributing Prince Hal's greatness to sack — claiming him as the product of his world. It's the most confident claim he makes in the play, and it is about to be catastrophically disproved.
Now, Falstaff, where have you been all this while?
When everything is ended, then you come.
These tardy tricks of yours will, on my life,
One time or other break some gallows’ back.
Now, Falstaff, where have you been this whole time? When everything is finished, then you show up. These delays of yours will break a gallows' back one day, I swear.
Falstaff, where have you been? You always show up when it's all over. Your constant delays will literally break a gallows someday, I'm telling you.
falstaff where were you? always show up when it's done you'll break the gallows with delays
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.”
I would be sorry, my lord, if this wasn't how things went. I've never known anything but criticism and punishment as the reward for courage. Do you think I'm a swallow, an arrow, or a bullet? Do I have, with my tired and aging body, the speed of a thought? I've raced here using every bit of strength I had; I've exhausted myself riding through scores and scores of towns; and here, worn out from travel as I am, I've used my pure and spotless valor to capture Sir John Colevile of the Dale, a most fierce and powerful knight and enemy. But so what? He saw me, and he gave up; and I can rightly say, just like that famous Roman general, 'I came, I saw, I won.'
I'm sorry it turned out this way, my lord. Courage always gets criticized, not rewarded. Do you think I move like an arrow? I'm an old man. But I raced here as fast as I possibly could, pushing myself to the limit, driving through dozens of towns until I was completely exhausted. And when I finally got here, I captured the famous knight Colevile. He took one look at me and surrendered. So I can honestly say, like the great Roman general, 'I came, I saw, I conquered.'
been riding hard to get here i captured colevile just by showing up he saw me and gave up i came i saw i won
It was more of his courtesy than your deserving.
It was more his politeness than something you deserved.
He was just being polite. You didn't deserve it.
he was just being nice to you
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.
I don't know about that. Here he is, and here I give him to you. And I beg your Grace, let this be recorded along with all the other great deeds of today, or by God, I'll have it printed as a special ballad with my own picture on top, showing Colevile kissing my foot. If you force me to do that, if you don't all look like cheap coins compared to me, and if I don't shine in the sky of fame like the full moon makes the stars look like pinheads, then don't believe anything noble people say. So give me proper credit, and let my reputation rise.
I don't know. Anyway, here's your prisoner. Now please, record this as one of today's victories, or I swear I'll publish it as a ballad with a picture of Colevile kissing my boot. If you make me do that, you'll all look worthless next to me. I'll outshine every one of you like the moon outshines stars. So give me the credit I deserve.
record my victory or ill make a ballad with me in it colevile kissing my boot and ill look better than all of you
Thine’s too heavy to mount.
Your reputation is too heavy to rise.
You're too heavy for fame to lift.
youre too heavy to rise
Let it shine, then.
Then at least let my reputation shine brightly, my lord.
Then let me shine some other way.
at least let me shine somehow
Thine’s too thick to shine.
You have too much mass to produce light.
You're too dense to give off light.
way too heavy to glow
Let it do something, my good lord, that may do me good, and call it
what you will.
Do something for me, my good lord, that will benefit me, and call it whatever you want.
Then do something that helps me, my lord. Call it whatever you like.
just do something good for me i dont care what you call it
Is thy name Colevile?
Is your name Colevile?
You're Colevile, right?
youre colevile
Colevile is a minor character who appears for less than fifteen lines, but Shakespeare gives him something most rebels in this play don't get: a final statement that's both true and dignified. He surrendered not out of cowardice but out of recognition — he knew who Falstaff was and made a rational choice. And his parting observation — that had the rebel leaders followed his counsel, the royal army would have paid a higher price — is almost certainly correct. He was the rebel who wanted to fight. He goes to execution having noted, accurately, that the others sold themselves cheaply.
It is, my lord.
That is correct, my lord.
Yes, that's my name.
yep its me
A famous rebel art thou, Colevile.
You're a famous rebel, Colevile.
You're well-known as a rebel, Colevile.
youre famous for rebelling
And a famous true subject took him.
And a famous loyal subject captured him.
And a famous loyal subject is the one who caught him.
and a famous good guy caught him
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.
I am, my lord, but I'm like my superiors who led me here. If they had listened to me, you would have had to pay a higher price to defeat them.
I am, my lord, but I'm just following the leaders who got us into this. If they'd listened to me, you'd have had a much harder fight.
im a rebel like the leaders told me to be if theyd listened to me youd have a harder time
I know not how they sold themselves, but thou, like a kind fellow,
gavest thyself away gratis, and I thank thee for thee.
I don't know how they sold themselves, but you, like a generous fellow, gave yourself away for free, and I thank you for that.
I don't know what kind of deal the others made, but you just handed yourself over for nothing, and I appreciate it.
you gave yourself up for free thanks buddy
Now, have you left pursuit?
Now, have you stopped chasing them?
Have you stopped pursuing them?
did you stop chasing them
Send Colevile with his confederates
To York, to present execution.
Blunt, lead him hence, and see you guard him sure.
Send Colevile with his associates to York for immediate execution. Blunt, take him away, and make sure you guard him carefully.
Take Colevile and his allies to York and execute them right away. Blunt, you're in charge—keep him secure.
take colevile to york execute him and his friends guard him well
Prince John has just executed one of the play's most cold-blooded acts of political deception. He arrives in this scene and is immediately confronted with Falstaff — who represents everything John is not: fat, warm, dissolute, witty, dishonest, alive. The exchange between them is a study in mutual contempt. John sees Falstaff as a fat fraud. Falstaff sees John as a sober-blooded boy who can't love and can't laugh. Falstaff is more right about John than John is about Falstaff. But in the world this play inhabits, John's coldness wins and Falstaff's warmth loses. The sack speech, delivered in John's absence, is Falstaff's rebuttal — and it changes nothing.
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.
And now let us head toward the court, my lords. I hear the King, my father, is very sick. Our news will arrive before us at his court. Cousin, you will carry this message to comfort him, and we will follow at steady speed.
Alright, let's head to court now, everyone. I hear the King is really ill. Our news will get there ahead of us. Cousin, you take the message to cheer him up, and we'll follow right behind at a good pace.
to court now the king is sick take the news go comfort him we'll follow
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.
My lord, I ask your permission to go through Gloucestershire, and when you get back to court, please speak well of me to the king.
My lord, can I take the Gloucestershire route home? And when you see the king, put in a good word for me.
let me go through gloucestershire and tell the king im good when you see him
Fare you well, Falstaff. I, in my condition,
Shall better speak of you than you deserve.
Good luck, Falstaff. Given my position, I'll speak better of you than you actually deserve.
Take care, Falstaff. I'll give you a better recommendation than you probably deserve.
bye falstaff ill say nice things about you
I would you had but the wit, ’twere better than your 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 none of these demure boys come to any proof; for thin drink doth
so over-cool 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 sherris-sack hath a two-fold
operation in it. It ascends me into the brain, dries me there all the
foolish and dull and crudy vapours 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 the
inwards to the parts’ extremes. It illumineth the face, which as a
beacon gives warning to all the rest of this little kingdom, man, to
arm; and then the vital commoners and inland petty spirits muster me
all to their captain, the heart, who, great and puffed up with this
retinue, doth any deed of courage; and this valour comes of sherris. So
that skill in the weapon is nothing without sack, for that sets it
a-work; and learning a mere hoard of gold kept by a devil, till sack
commences it and sets it in act and use. Hereof comes it that Prince
Harry is valiant; for the cold blood he did naturally inherit of his
father he hath, like lean, sterile and bare land, manured, husbanded
and tilled with excellent endeavour of drinking good and good store of
fertile sherris, that he is become very hot and valiant. If I had a
thousand sons, the first humane principle I would teach them should be
to forswear thin potations and to addict themselves to sack.
I wish you had wisdom instead of your title—that would be better. Honestly, this young serious-minded boy doesn't like me, and you can't make him laugh, but that's not surprising—he doesn't drink wine. None of these serious boys amount to anything; their lack of wine chills their blood, and eating only simple meals makes them sick with a kind of male weakness, and when they marry, they get disappointing partners. They're generally cowards and fools, and some of us would be too, but drinking keeps us warm. A good strong wine does two important things: it rises into the brain and dries up all the foolish, dull, and thick fumes that fill it, making the brain sharp, quick, inventive, full of lively and delightful ideas, which, when expressed through the tongue, become brilliant wit. Second, good wine warms the blood, which before was cold and still, making the liver pale and weak, which shows cowardice. But wine warms it and sends it rushing through the body. It lights up the face, which signals to the whole body—this kingdom of man—to prepare for action; then all the little spirits in the body gather for their leader, the heart, who, made large and proud by this army, performs any brave deed; and this courage comes from wine. So weapons mean nothing without wine, because wine is what activates them; and learning is just money hidden by a devil until wine makes it active and useful. That's why Prince Harry is brave; the cold blood he inherited from his father he has warmed and enriched like poor land that's been carefully farmed with plenty of good strong wine, and that's made him hot and courageous. If I had a thousand sons, the first lesson I'd teach them would be to avoid weak drinks and commit themselves to strong wine.
I wish you had more brains—that would be better than your title. Look, this young sober kid doesn't like me and you can't get him to laugh, but that's what happens when you don't drink. These serious boys never amount to anything. Not drinking cools their blood down, and eating plain food makes them weak. When they get married, they don't satisfy their wives. They're cowards and fools, and honestly, we'd be too if we didn't drink. Here's what wine does: it goes to your brain and clears out all the stupid, dull thoughts, making you sharp and creative. Your ideas become brilliant, and when you speak them, you're witty. Second, wine warms your blood. When you don't drink, your blood gets cold and thick, your liver turns pale, and you look like a coward. But wine heats everything up and sends it everywhere. Your face glows, which tells your whole body to get ready for action. All your internal forces gather for the heart, which puffs up with this support and does brave things. That's where courage comes from. Weapons without wine are useless—wine is what makes them work. Knowledge without wine is like gold hidden by a demon until wine activates it. That's why Prince Harry is brave—he took the cold blood from his father and warmed it up with good wine, making himself bold and courageous. If I had a thousand sons, I'd teach them first to never drink weak stuff and to stick with good strong wine.
this kid doesnt drink so he's weak wine makes you brave makes you smart makes you good at fighting if i had sons id teach them to drink wine not water
How now, Bardolph?
What's happening, Bardolph?
How's it going, Bardolph?
what's up bardolph?
The army is discharged all and gone.
The entire army has been discharged and gone.
The troops are all paid off and gone.
armys gone
Let them go. I’ll through Gloucestershire, and there will I visit
Master Robert Shallow, Esquire. I have him already tempering between my
finger and my thumb, and shortly will I seal with him. Come away.
Let them go. I'll travel through Gloucestershire, and there I'll visit Master Robert Shallow, Esquire. I've already got him under my control, and soon I'll seal an agreement with him. Come on.
Let them go. I'm heading to Gloucestershire to visit Robert Shallow. I've already got him eating out of my hand, and I'm about to make a deal with him. Let's go.
let them go im going to see shallow im gonna get money out of him come on
The Reckoning
This scene does two things. First, it provides a comic corrective to the grimness of 4-2: Falstaff 'captures' a rebel who surrenders out of awe at Falstaff's name, while claiming to have fought him valiantly. Second — and more importantly — it gives us Falstaff's great soliloquy on sack, one of his finest pieces of sustained comic philosophy. The sack speech is hilarious, but it's also the key to understanding Falstaff's relationship to Prince Hal: he credits Hal's virtues to wine, and blames John's coldness on sobriety. He's not entirely wrong.
If this happened today…
A celebrity shows up at a scene of action — having done nothing — and the person they're supposed to be arresting just surrenders because they know who the celebrity is. The boss is unamused. The celebrity argues: 'You should put me in the report or I'll write my own biography about this.' Boss: 'Your biography would be too fat to rise and too dense to shine.' Celebrity, alone afterward, delivers a fifteen-minute monologue about why coffee is the source of all human greatness.