Fal. You rogue, they were bound, every man of them; or I am a Jew, else—an Ebrew Jew.
Gad. As we were sharing, some six or seven fresh men set upon us—
Fal. And unbound the rest; and then come in the other.
P. Henry. What! fought ye with them all?
Fal. All? I know not what ye call all; but if I fought not with fifty of them, I am a bunch of radish: if there were not two or three and fifty upon poor old Jack, then I am no two-legged creature.
P. Henry. Pray heaven, you have not murdered some of them.
Fal. Nay, that's past praying for; for I have peppered two of them; two I am sure I have paid; two rogues in buckram suits. I tell thee what, Hal, if I tell thee a lie, spit in my face, and call me a horse. Thou knowest my old ward; (he draws his sword and stands if about to fight) here I lay, and thus I bore my point. Four rogues in buckram let drive at me—
P. Henry. What! four? Thou saidst but two even now.
Fal. Four, Hal; I told thee four.
Poins. Ay, ay, he said four.