Page:Folk-lore - A Quarterly Review. Volume 10, 1899.djvu/225

 Christmas Mummers at Rugby. 191

Enter Moll Finney. Moll. St. George, St. George, what hast thou done !

Thou hast surely ruined thyself By killing my only son ! ^ Is there a doctor to be found, To cure this man lies bleeding on the ground ?

Kneels^ and hides her head in her hand.

Enter Doctor. D. In conies I, the Doctor Brown,

Cleverest doctor in the town.

O yes, there is a doctor to be found

To cure this man lying on the ground. Moll. What's your fee ?

D. Ten guineas is my fee.

But five I will take of thee. Moll. Thank'ye, doctor : what can you cure ?

D. Hipsey, pipsey, palsy, gout.

Pains within and pains without.

Bring me an old man that has been

In his grave threescore years and ten,

' Five pounds for a doctor !

No doctor to be found. Ten pounds for a doctor !

No doctor to be found. Twenty pounds for a doctor !

No doctor to be found.

Enter Doctor. D. Oh yes, Oh yes, there is

A noble doctor to be found, To cure this man

Lying on the ground. What's your price ?

Seven pound. What can you cure ? Hipsy, pipsy, palsy, gout, If the devil's in I'll quickly fetch him out. Here Jack, take a bit of my nif-nack up your sniff-snack. Rise and fight again.