Shall
dunghill
curs confront the Helicons?
Shakespeare
PISTOL. Puff!
Puff in thy teeth, most recreant coward base!
Sir John, I am thy Pistol and thy friend,
And helter-skelter have I rode to thee;
And tidings do I bring, and lucky joys,
And golden times, and happy news of price.
FALSTAFF. I pray thee now, deliver them like a man of this world.
PISTOL. A foutra for the world and worldlings base!
I speak of Africa and golden joys.
FALSTAFF. O base Assyrian knight, what is thy news?
Let King Cophetua know the truth thereof.
SILENCE. [Singing] And Robin Hood, Scarlet, and John.
PISTOL.
Shall dunghill curs confront the Helicons?
And shall good news be baffled?
Then, Pistol, lay thy head in Furies' lap.
SHALLOW. Honest gentleman, I know not your breeding.
PISTOL. Why, then, lament therefore.
SHALLOW. Give me pardon, sir. If, sir, you come with news from the
court, I take it there's but two ways- either to utter them or
conceal them. I am, sir, under the King, in some authority.
PISTOL. Under which king, Bezonian? Speak, or die.
SHALLOW. Under King Harry.
