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. Chr._ What can you cure? _Doct._ All sorts of diseases, Whatever you pleases, The phthisic, the palsy, and the gout; Whatever disorder, I’ll soon pull him out. _Fa. Chr._ What is your fee? _Doct._ Fifteen pounds, it is my fee, The money to lay down; But as ’tis such a rogue as he, I’ll cure him for ten pound. I have a little bottle of Elicumpane, Here, Jack, take a little of my flip-flop, Pour it down thy tip-top: Rise up, and fight again. [The Doctor _gives his medicine_: St. George _and the_ Dragon _again fight, and the latter is again killed_.] St. George. Here am I, St. George, that worthy champion bold, And with my sword and spear I’ve won three crowns of gold: I fought the fiery dragon, and brought him to the slaughter; By that I’ve won fair Sabra, the King of Egypt’s daughter. _The_ Turkish Knight _advances_. Here come I, the Turkish Knight, Come from the Turkish land to fight. I’ll fight St. 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. St. George. Where is the Turk that will before me stand? I’ll cut him down with my courageous hand. [_They fight:_ the Knight _is overcome, and falls on one knee, saying_— Oh! pardon me, St. George, pardon of thee I crave, Oh! pardon me this night, and I will be thy slave. St. George. I’ll never pardon a Turkish Knight; So rise thee up again, and try thy might. [_They fight again, when the_ Knight _is killed, and a scene with_ Father Christmas _and the_ Doctor _occurs as before, and the_ Knight _is cured. The_ Doctor _then, according to the stage direction, has a basin of girdy grout given him, and a kick, and is driven out. Sometimes the_ Giant Turpin _is introduced, but his part is little more than a repetition of the_ Turkish Knight. _If there is a fair_ Sabra, _she is generally a mute, and now comes forward to_ Saint George.] Father Christmas. Now ladies and gentlemen, your sport is just ended, So prepare for the box, which is highly commended. The box it would speak, if it had but a tongue: Come, throw in your money, and think it no wrong. [Illustration] INDEX TO CAROLS.