The Mummers. 8&1 
If thy mind is high, my mind is bold, 
If thy blood is hot, I will make it cold. 
[Sr. GrorcE anp THE TurKisH Knyicur fight—the latter falls.] 
Turkish Knight. Oh! St. George spare my life! 
Father Christmas. Is no Doctor to be found 
To cure this man who’s bleeding on the ground. 
Enter the Docror. 
Yes! an Italian Doctor’s to be found 
To cure the Knight who’s bleeding on the ground: 
I cure the sick of ev’ry pain, 
And raise the dead to life again. 
Father Christmas. Doctor, what is thy fee ? 
The Doctor. Ten pounds is my fee, 
But fifteen I must take of thee 
Before I set this gallant free. 
Father Christmas. Work thy will, doctor. 
The Doctor. I have a little bottle by my side 
The fame*of which spreads far and wide, 
I drop a drop on this poor man’s nose. 
[ The Docror touches the TurkisH Kyicut’s nose, and he instantly 
springs on his feet quite recovered. | 
Enter Lirttz Jack, a Dwarf, with several dolls strapped at his back. 
i Oh! in come I, little saucy Jack, 
With all my family at my back. 
Christmas comes but once a year, 
And when it comes it brings good cheer : 
Roast beef, plum pudding, and mince pie, 
Who likes that any better than I? 
Christmas ale makes us dance and sing ; 
Money in purse is a very fine thing. 
Ladies and gentlemen give us what you please. 
The acting of this Drama, more or less modified, is not confined 
to Wiltshire, as the Right Hon. Davies Gilbert, M.P., mentions it 
in the county of Cornwall, and Mr. Hone, at Whitehaven, in the 
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