[Exit Slasher.]
Fool. Yes, Slasher, thou hadst better go,
Else the next time he'll pierce thee through.
[St. David stands forth.]
St. David. Of Taffy's Land I'm Patron Saint.
Oh yes, indeed, I'll you acquaint,
Of Ancient Britons I've a race
Dare meet a foeman face to face.
For Welshmen (hear it once again;)
Were born before all other men.
I'll fear no man in fight or freaks,
Whilst Wales produces cheese and leeks.
[Enter Turkish Knight.]
Turkish Knight. Here comes I, the Turkish Knight,
Come from the Turkish land to fight.
I'll take St. David for my foe,
And make him yield before I go;
He brags to such a high degree,
He thinks there was never a Knight but he.
So draw thy sword, St. David, thou man of courage bold,
If thy Welsh blood is hot, soon will I fetch it cold.
St. David. Where is the Turk that will before me stand?
I'll cut him down with my courageous hand.
Turkish Knight. Draw out thy sword and slay,
Pull out thy purse and pay,
For satisfaction I will have, before I go away.
[They fight. The Turkish Knight is wounded, and falls on one knee.]
Quarter! quarter! good Christian, grace of thee I crave,
Oh, pardon me this night, and I will be thy slave.