We will present our readers with the version of this old drama given by Mr. Sandys, as still performed in Cornwall. Elsewhere, we have met with some slight variations upon even this Cornwall piece, but will be content to print it as we find it in the collection in question. Our Lancashire readers will at once recognize its close resemblance to the play performed in that county, about the time of Easter, by the Peace-eggers, or Paste-eggers, of whom we shall speak, in their proper place, in a future volume. _Enter the Turkish Knight._ Open your doors and let me in, I hope your favors I shall win; Whether I rise or whether I fall I'll do my best to please you all. Saint George is here, and swears he will come in, And if he does, I know he'll pierce my skin. If you will not believe what I do say, Let Father Christmas come in,--clear the way! [_Retires._ _Enter Father Christmas._ Here come I, old Father Christmas, Welcome, or welcome not, I hope old Father Christmas Will never be forgot. I am not come here to laugh or to jeer, But for a pocketful of money and a skinful of beer. If you will not believe what I do say, Come in the King of Egypt,--clear the way! _Enter the King of Egypt._ Here I, the King of Egypt, boldly do appear, Saint George! Saint George! walk in, my only son and heir. Walk in, my son, Saint George! and boldly act thy part, That all the people here may see thy wond'rous art. _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?