Torringtonia; or, a New Copy of Verses on the Late Sea Engagement
To a Tune Which nobody can deny.
I sing not the battle (so fam’d) of Lepanto,
Nor what the Turks got by the siege of Otranto,
Nor the Spanish Armada so brave and gallanto,
Which nobody can deny.
Nor how they were bang’d by invincible Drake,
Nor the courage and conduct of excellent Blake,
Nor of men that fought bravely when all was at stake,
Which nobody can deny.
But a sort of sea-fight ’tween the French and Hollander,
Where th’ English had joyn’d, but that their commander-
In-chief wou’d not be a with- but a by-stander,
Which nobody can deny.
The Dutch to the enemy boldly drew near,
But th’ admiral o’th English more wisely did steer,
For he thought it was safer to keep in the rear,
Which nobody can deny.
Grafton (’twas said) came courageously in,
And by mauling the French great honour did win,
But Torr’ was resolv’d to sleep in a whole skin,
Which nobody can deny.
Had each ship and its captain but been independant,
They’d certainly made a [more] glorious end on’t,
Then commanded by such a stout superintendant,
Which nobody can deny.
Tyrrel and Dorrel did boldly stand to ’em
(Thinking to beat the French and to undo ’em),
But th’ Admiral only came thither to view ’em,
Which nobody can deny.
And tho’ the French fleet was so little esteem’d,
And their courage and conduct despisable deem’d,
To wise Herbert they plainly invincible seem’d,
Which nobody can deny.
Some ships too fool-hardy did headlong engage,
Which put the stout admiral in such a rage,
That nought but a whore could passion asswage,
Which nobody can deny.
When the shot from the enemy flying at random
Slew the stout hero’s dog, that could no way withstand ’em,
His bitches desired their master to land ’em,
Which nobody can deny.
’Twould make a man, much more a woman, agast, sir,
To see a dog kill’d ’twixt the leggs of his master,
Who much more deserv’d such a dismal disaster,
Which nobody can deny.
Some say that he wanted both powder and ball.
Be that true or false, it was certainly all
One to him, whose courage was so very small,
Which nobody can deny.
The Dutch at the enemy bravely did fire all,
Tho’ Arthur commanded the fleet to retire all,
For which if he be’nt hang’d we much shou’d admire all,
Which nobody can deny.
Tho’ the French for a time may bluster and boast
Of the honour they won by Torrington lost,
Their courage will cool when our fleet’s on their coast,
Which nobody can deny.
Not one town of theirs, nor two, three, nor four
Shall appease for the pranks they play’d on our shoar;
We have admirals now that will pay off the score,
Which nobody can deny.