Russel on the ocean, minding Tourville’s motion, Made them to run at the noise of our guns, And Toulon shall be their portion; The French must trot it home by land, Whilst Russel on the seas command. Sound the trumpet, beat the drum, while the French do run, _Sound the trumpet, etc., sound, etc., while the French do run still before us_. Now the spring’s a-coming, our English will be burning Your towns that be builded near the sea; You’ll find the sea-men booming; Then let your armies all advance, Yet we’ll lye on the coast of France, Sounding trumpets, beating drum, while the towns do burn, _Sounding trumpets, etc., sounding trumpets, towns do burn unto ashes_. The Turk and the barbarian, how the English fleet do scare ’em And make them to know, before they do go, That the French shall dread and fear ’em. Now, Monsieur, bring out all you can; We’ll fight you ship or man to man. _Sound the trumpet, etc., sound, etc., man to man, we will fight ’em._ Each brave English freeman will be a jolly seaman; With Russel we’ll go to fight the foe, For the honour of Old England. Let Tourville with his fleet then come; Some we’ll sink and some we’ll burn. Gun for gun we’ll give them too, while they cry, ‘Morbleu!’ _Gun for gun, etc., gun, etc., while they cry, ‘We are routed!’_ The Turks they are much grieved, altho’ they still believed That the French fleet could the English beat, But now they are deceived; In Toulon they all do sneak and hide, Whilst Russel in the Straights doth ride, Daring Tourville for to come, and bring out his fleet, _Daring Tourville, etc., daring, etc., bring out his fleet, for to fight us_. Since the French are frighted they by the world are slighted, For Russel the brave is resolved for to have The English nation righted; He cares not what the French can do, Since the Red squadron and the Blew Are full resolved for to be masters of the sea, _Are full resolved for to be, are, etc., masters, etc., in spite of Monsieur_. _THE CÆSAR’S VICTORY._ It being [an] account of a ship so called in her voyage to the East Indies, richly laden, [which] was beset with five sail of Pirates; but the Cæsar so rarely behaved herself that she came off with conquest and put her foes to flight, losing no more than one man, and but seven wounded, one of which was Francis Stevens, a Water-man, who formerly ply’d at Puddle-Dock, who lost his arm. To the Tune of _Cannons rore_.