ST. THOMAS'S DAY.
To cure a deep and deadly wound, And make the champion stand ?
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.
[ The Doctor performs his cure, the fight is renewed, and the Dragon again killed.
Here am I, St. George,
That worthy champion bold ! And with my sword and spear
I won three crowns of gold ! I fought the fiery dragon,
And brought him to the slaughter ; By that I won fair Sabra,
The King of Egypt's daughter. Where is the man, that now me will defy ? I'll cut his giblets full of holes, and make his buttons fly.
The Turkish Knight advances.
Here come I, the Turkish Knight,
Here come the Turkish land to fight!
I'll fight Saint George, who is my foe,
I'll make him yield, before I go ;
He brags to such a high degree,
He thinks there's none can do the like of he.