Taught Johnny Turk the use of boot and saddle
And fetched out FERDINANDO for a blob—
Shall I allow each little grinning urchin
To move me from my purpose? Shall I shrink
For fear of idle Rumour wagging her chin?
No, no! I do not think.
"My high emprise may set the suburbs hooting
And lay me under Balham's local curse;
There be—I know it—those in Upper Tooting
Would lynch the prophet and insult his hearse;