Page:Folk-lore - A Quarterly Review. Volume 10, 1899.djvu/220

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T. K. In comes I, a Turkish Knight, In Turkey land I learnt to fight! I'll battle with thee, St. George; And if thy blood is hot, I'll quickly set it cold again. St. G. Tut tut, thou little fellow!
 * Thy talk is very bold,

Just like these little Turks,
 * As I've been told.

If thou be a Turkish Knight, Pull out thy sword, and fight! Or pull out thy purse, and pay: I'll have satisfaction,
 * Before I go away.

T. K. There's no satisfaction about it. My head is made of iron.
 * My body's lined with steel.

Therefore I'll battle with thee, St. George, To see which on the grave shall fall. St. G. Draw out thy sword, and fight.

Father C. Fear not, I have a little bottle by my side, In it hocum slocum aliquid spam, I touch the root of this man's tongue And the crown of his head, Will drive the heat through his body,
 * And he will rise again.

T. K. St. George, St. George, pardon me, pardon me, For I'll ever be thy slave. St. G. What, pardon a Turkish Knight! Never! arise once more and try thy might.