Page:The Folk-Lore Journal Volume 2 1884.djvu/12

4 St. George. Oh Turk, oh Turk, do not boast,
 * Or I will cut you down as small as dust.

Turkish Knight. Oh, St. George, do not threaten,
 * Or I will cut you down with my rusty old weapon.

St. George. Oh Turk, oh Turk, do not caper,
 * Or I will cut you down with my old rapier.

[They fight and St. George falls slightly wounded. Father Christmas. Oh Turk, oh Turk, what have you done?
 * You have wounded my beloved son.

Turkish Knight. Well, didn't he give me the challenge to do it, and how could I deny it?
 * See how high he was, and now see how low he is.

[Turk falls on one knee slightly wounded. Father Christmas. Arise, St. George, and do not refrain.
 * But boldly rise, and fight that dreadful Turk again.

[St. George rises and fights Turk again. Turkish Knight (on one knee). Down on my bending knee,
 * A poor Turkish slave, I crave to thee.

St. George. Get up, you Turkish Knight,
 * Go home to your Turkish land and fight;
 * Go home and tell them what champions there is in Old England dwells.
 * I will send in my Valiant Soldier.

Father Christmas. Walk in, you Valiant Soldier.

Valiant Soldier. In comes I the Valiant Soldier,
 * Bold Slasher is my name.
 * My head is crowned in iron,
 * My body is cased in steel,
 * And with my sword into my knuckle-bone
 * I will fight this Turk all in this field;
 * I will pull out my sword and fight, pull out my purse and pay.
 * For satisfaction will I have before I go away.

Turkish Knight. No satisfaction shall you have,
 * No satisfaction will I give,