With sword and buckler by my side, I hope to win the game;
And for to fight with me I see thou art not able,
So with my trusty broad-sword I soon will thee disable.
St George.—Disable! disable! it lies not in thy power,
For with my glittering sword and spear I soon will thee
devour.
Stand off! Slasher! let no more be said,
For if I draw my sword I'm sure to break thy head.
Slasher.—How canst thou break my head?
Since it is made of iron,
And my body's made of steel,
My hands and feet of knuckle-bone,
I challenge thee to the field.
(They fight, and Slasher is wounded.—Exit St George.)
Enter Fool to Slasher.
Fool.—Alas! alas! my chiefest son is slain;
What must I do to raise him up again?
Here he lies in the presence of you all;
I'll lovingly for a doctor call.
(Aloud) A doctor! a doctor! ten pounds for a doctor.
I'll go and fetch a doctor (going).
Enter Doctor.
Doctor.—Here am I.
Fool.—Are you the doctor?
Doctor.—Yes ; that you may plainly see
By my art and activity.
Fool.—Well, what's your fee to cure this man?
Doctor.—Ten pounds is my fee:
But, Jack, if thou be an honest man,
I'll only take five off thee.
