_Fal._ Do thou amend thy face, and I'll amend my life:[2796] thou art our admiral, thou bearest the lantern in the poop,[2797] but 'tis in the nose of thee; thou art the Knight of the[2798] Burning Lamp.
_Bard._ Why, Sir John, my face does you no harm.[2799] 25
_Fal._ No, I'll be sworn; I make as good use of it as many a man doth of a Death's-head or a memento mori: I never see thy face but I think upon hell-fire, and Dives that lived in purple; for there he is in his robes, burning,[2800] burning. If thou wert any way given to virtue, I would swear[2801] 30 by thy face; my oath should be, 'By this fire, that's God's[2802] angel:' but thou art altogether given over; and wert indeed,[2802] but for the light in thy face, the son of utter darkness.[2803] When thou rannest up Gadshill in the night to catch my[2804] horse, if I did not think thou hadst been an ignis fatuus[2805] 35 or a ball of wildfire, there's no purchase in money. O, thou art a perpetual triumph, an everlasting bonfire-light! Thou[2806] hast saved me a thousand marks in links and torches, walking with thee in the night betwixt tavern and tavern: but the sack that thou hast drunk me would have bought me 40 lights as good cheap at the dearest chandler's in Europe.[2807] I have maintained that salamander of yours with fire any[2808] time this two and thirty years; God reward me for it![2809]
_Bard._ 'Sblood, I would my face were in your belly![2810]
_Fal._ God-a-mercy! so should I be sure to be heartburned.[2811] 45
How now, Dame Partlet the hen! have you inquired yet who picked my pocket?
_Host._ Why, Sir John, what do you think, Sir John? do you think I keep thieves in my house? I have searched, I 50 have inquired, so has my husband, man by man, boy by boy, servant by servant: the tithe of a hair was never lost[2813] in my house before.
_Fal._ Ye lie, hostess: Bardolph was shaved, and lost many a hair; and I'll be sworn my pocket was picked.[2814] 55 Go to, you are a woman, go.[2815]
_Host._ Who, I? no; I defy thee: God's light, I was[2816] never called so in mine own house before.
_Host._ No, Sir John; you do not know me, Sir John. 60 I know you, Sir John: you owe me money, Sir John; and now you pick a quarrel to beguile me of it: I bought you a dozen of shirts to your back.