— I did dislike the cut of a certain courtier’s beard: he sent me word, if I said his beard was not cut well, he was in the mind it was: this is called ‘the retort courteous’. If I sent him word again, it was not well cut, he would send me word, he cut it to please himself: this is called the ‘quip modest’. If again, it was not well cut, he disabled my judgment: this is called the ‘reply churlish’. If again, it was not well cut, he would answer, I spake not true: this is called the ‘reproof valiant’: if again, it was not well cut, he would say, I lie: this is called the ‘countercheck quarrelsome’: and so to the ‘lie circumstantial’, and the ‘lie direct’.
— And how oft did you say his beard was not well cut?
— I durst go no further than the ‘lie circumstantial’, nor he durst not give me the ‘lie direct’; and so we measured swords and parted.
— Can you nominate in order now the degrees of the lie?
— O sir, we quarrel in print; by the book, as you have books for good manners: I will name you the degrees. The first, the ‘retort courteous’; the second, the ‘quip modest’; the third, the ‘reply churlish’; the fourth, the ‘reproof valiant’; the fifth, the ‘countercheck quarrelsome’; the sixth, the ‘lie with circumstance’; the seventh, the ‘lie direct’. All these you may avoid but the lie direct; and you may avoid that too, with an ‘if’. I knew when seven justices could not take up a quarrel; but when the parties were met themselves, one of them thought but of an ‘if’, as ‘If you said so, then I said so’; and they shook hands and swore brothers. Your ‘if’ is the only peace-maker; much virtue in ‘if’.