Prince. What's the matter?
Falst. What's the matter? here be foure of vs, haue
ta'ne a thousand pound this Morning
Prince. Where is it, Iack? where is it?
Falst. Where is it? taken from vs, it is: a hundred
vpon poore foure of vs
Prince. What, a hundred, man?
Falst. I am a Rogue, if I were not at halfe Sword with
a dozen of them two houres together. I haue scaped by
miracle. I am eight times thrust through the Doublet,
foure through the Hose, my Buckler cut through and
through, my Sword hackt like a Hand-saw, ecce signum.
I neuer dealt better since I was a man: all would not doe.
A plague of all Cowards: let them speake; if they speake
more or lesse then truth, they are villaines, and the sonnes
of darknesse
Prince. Speake sirs, how was it?
Gad. We foure set vpon some dozen