Master Silence (sings seraphically).—“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.
Master Shallow (rising, with magisterial assumption of sobriety).—Honest gentleman, I know not your breeding.
Pistol.—Why then, lament therefore.
Master Shallow.—Give me pardon, sir:—if, sir, you come with news from the court, I take it, there is but two ways, either to utter them, or to conceal them. I am, sir, under the king, in some authority.
Pistol (drawing a rusty rapier) Under which king, Bezonian? speak, or die.
Master Shallow.—Under King Harry.
Pistol.—Harry the fourth? or fifth?
Master Shallow.—Harry the fourth.
Pistol.—A foutra for thine office!—Sir John, thy tender lambkin now is king: Harry the fifth’s the man. I speak the truth: when Pistol lies, do this; and fig me, like the bragging Spaniard.