Enter Saint George.
Here come I, Saint George, from Britain did I spring,
I'll fight the Dragon bold, my wonders to begin,
I'll clip his wings, he shall not fly;
I'll cut him down, or else I die.
Enter the Dragon.
Who's he that seeks the Dragon's blood,
And calls so angry, and so loud?
That English dog, will he before me stand?
I'll cut him down with my courageous hand.
With my long teeth and scurvy jaw,
Of such I'd break up half a score,
And stay my stomach, till I'd more.
[Saint George and the Dragon fight,—the latter is killed.
Father Christmas.
Is there a doctor to be found
All ready, near at hand,
To cure a deep and deadly wound,
And make the champion stand?
Enter Doctor.
Oh! yes, there is a doctor to be found
All ready, near at hand,
To cure a deep and deadly wound,
And make the champion stand.
| Fa. Chris. | What can you cure? |
| Doctor. | All sorts of diseases, Whatever you pleases, The phthisic, the palsy, and the gout; If the devil's in, I'll blow him out. |
Fa. Chris. | What is your fee? |
| Doctor. | Fifteen pound, it is my fee, The money to lay down; But, as 'tis such a rogue as thee, I cure for ten pound. I carry a little bottle of alicumpane, Here Jack, take a little of my flip flop, Pour it down thy tip top, Rise up and fight again. |