_Mer._ I will, I will--At length the proud French swallowing too many of our English Balls, two of 'em very fairly cried, Your Servants Gentlemen, farewel, and down they went. The other having lost most of her Men, resolved to leave us; but we being too nimble, overtook her, clapt some Men aboard, and brought her in a Prize: And this my brave Man of War here, was the first that boarded her with Sword in Hand. _1 Sailer._ Of all this I was an Eye-witness. _2 Sailer._ And so was I. _3 Sailer._ And I, and all of us. _Mer._ Yes, and many more stout Boys besides. _Spruce._ Sir, we are all indebted to your Valour; such Voyages as these, from small Venturers, in time may make us great Merchants. _Mer._ Well, never was Fight better managed before, that's certain. _1 Sail._ No, never, never! _2 Sail._ Better, say you? No nor half so well. _3 Sail._ If it were in our Power, we'd make him Admiral, so we wou'd. _Sum._ Gentlemen, 'tis to your Valours all, that I am indebted for the Honour I have gain'd: And that I may not seem wholly ungrateful, there, there's something in token of my Thankfulness. [_Gives 'em Money._ _1, 2, 3 Sailers._ Heaven bless your Worship. _Ara._ Come Cousin, we'l withdraw into the Parlour: And if these honest Friends will be pleased to drink what our House affords, they shall be welcome. _1 Sail._ Thank you Mistress with all our Hearts. [Exeunt _all but Sailers_. _2 Sail._ Well, this Mr. _Summerfield_ is a brave Fellow, Gadzooks he is. _3 Sail._ Ay _Tom_ so he is; had it not been for him, we had all been taken on my Conscience. _1 Sail._ On my Soul and so we had: O if you had but seen him when he boarded the _Monsieur_, 'twou'd have made you laugh 'till you had split your Sides. He came up to the Captain o'this fashion with a Slap--ha! and gave him such a back-handed wipe, that he cut off his Head as genteely, as tho he had served seven Years Apprenticeship to't. _Enter Servant with a Bowl of Punch._ _Serv._ Gentlemen, Mr. _Summerfield_ desires ye to be merry, and has sent you this to drink his Health. _1 Sail._ O, the Lord bless him, he's a fine Gentleman, and so pray tell him, and withal give him our hearty Thanks; Dost hear Boy? _Serv._ Yes, yes, I will. [_Exit._ _2 Sail._ What is't Brother? _3 Sail._ Punch by this Light! Omnes. _Hoo-ra; Hoo-ra; Viva_ Mr. _Summerfield, Viva, Hoora._ [The first Sailer takes the Bowl of Punch, walks in state round the Stage, and sings; the others all follow.] _Here's a Health to jolly_ Bacchus, _Here's a Health to jolly_ Bacchus, _Hi ho, hi ho, hi ho._ _For he will merry make us,_ _For he will merry make us,_ _Hi ho, hi ho, hi ho._ _Then sit ye down together,_ _Then sit ye down together._ [_They all sit down with the Bowl in the middle._ _2 Sail._ Pshaw! Pox o'th' this old Song, prithee let's have a Dance. _3 Sail._ With all my Heart; strike up Musick. _The Sailers and their Wives dance._ After the Dance.