ongue, 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 its course from the inwards to the parts extreme. It illuminateth
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
value 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, steril, and bare
land, manured, husbanded, and tilled, with drinking good, and good store
of fertile sherris--If I had a thousand sons, the first human principle
I would teach them, should be--to foreswear thin potations, and to
addict themselves to sack.

A plague on all cowards, I say, and a vengeance too, marry
and amen! Give me a cup of sack, boy--Ere I lead this life long,
I'll sew nether socks and mend them, and foot them too. A plague
on all cowards! Give me a cup of sack, rogue. Is there no virtue
extant? [_Drinks._

You rogue! here's lime in this sack too. There is nothing but
roguery to be found in villainous man. Yet a coward is worse
than a cup of sack with lime in it---Go thy ways, old Jack! die
when thou wilt, if manhood, good manhood, be not forgot upon
the face of the earth, then a'nt I a shotten herring. There lives
not three good men unhanged in England; and one of them is
fat, and grows old, God help the while!--A plague on all cowards,
I say still!---Give me a cup of sack. [_Drinks._

I am a rogue if I were not at half-sword with a dozen of them
two hours together. I have escaped by miracle. I am eight
times thrust through the doublet; four through the hose; my
buckler cut through and through; my sword hacked like a hand-saw--_ecce
signum!_ I never dealt better since I was a man. All
would not do. A plague on all cowards!--But I have peppered
two of them; two, I am sure I have paid