He came to the attack with a battering-ram.
"Saint George! Saint George!" he shouted, and the ram rushed forward.
"France! France!" Miranda screamed, and unexpectedly emptied a pail of cold water upon Peter's head.
Peter left the ram and swiftly retreated.
Both parties were by this time lost to respect of consequences. Into Peter's mind there suddenly intruded Shakespeare's vision of himself.
"... And at his heels,
Leashed in like hounds, should famine, sword, and fire
Crouch for employment."
Fire! Obviously this was the retort.