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EBBA 22208

Magdalene College - Pepys
Ballad XSLT Template
An Excellent New SONG,
ENTITULED,
A Hot Engagement
Between
A French Privateer, and an English Fire-Ship.

I'M a Prize for a Captain to fall on,
my Name it is Sea faring Kate:
My Sails they are Top and Top Gallon,
a Friggot that's of the First Rate.
With a fa la la, etc.

A French-Man came lately to Press me,
which was not a very hard thing,
And swore that he first wou'd embrace me,
And Loaden me then for the King,
With a fa la la, etc.

Last Summer he Saild from the Shannon,
and long at an Anchor had red,
On his Mid Ship he had a good Cannon,
which was all the great Guns that he had.
With a fa la la, etc.

His Main Yard he hoized, and Steered
his Course; and gave me a Broad Side:
My Poop and my Starn Port sneered,
betwixt the Wind, Water, and Tide.
With a fa la la, etc.

Still under his Lee I did hover,
with all the force I could affo[r]d,
But as he had been a rank Rover,
he briskly did lay me on Board.
With a fa la la, etc.

He looked for some hidden Treasure,
And fell to his doing of Feats,
But found me a Fire-ship of Pleasure,
When he enter'd the mouth of the Straits,
With a fa la la, etc.

It was a high Tide, and the Weather
With an easterly Gale it did blow:
Our Frigats were foul of each other,
And could not get off, nor ride to,
With a fa la la, etc.

My Bottom was strongly well planked,
My Deck could a Tempest endure,
But ne'er was poor Dog in a Blanket
So tossed, as was the Monsieur,
With a fa la la, etc.

No near, than his Course he still steered,
and clap'd his hand down to his Sword;
But as his Love takle he cleard,
I brought down his Main Top by the Board,
With a fa la la, etc.

Then he feared to burn a Sea-Martyr,
for my Gun-Room was all in a Fire,
And I blew up my second Deck Quarter,
just as he began to retire,
With a fa la la, etc.

I pepper'd him off the Centre,
Monsieur was ne'er serv'd so before;
I burn his Main Yard at a venter,
So that he will press me no more,
With a fa la la, etc.

Then Monsieur got off, and was grieved,
and cursed the English first Rates,
But till then he could never believe it,
That Strumbulo lay in the Straits,
With a fa ca la, etc.


Printed by T. Moore, for S. Green. 1691.

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