The Dutch armado a meer bravado. A poem upon the late engagement at sea. / By the author of the Dutch embargo.

The Dutch Armado A meer Bravado . A POEM upon the Late Engagement at Sea . By the Author of the Dutch Embargo . Non nos ampullas . — AFter a strict Embargo on Their Fleet , The Dutch inrag'd with Brandy-valour meet : Like a deaf Fidler , tedious , large and long ; Whose tuning takes up more time than his Song : Or like a thick rim'd Bull , when Goads and Stroaks His sullen Humor into Rage provokes . In Crescent form the furious Turks began , Resolv'd t' appear , at least half Christian . But soon the English broke the Belgick Bow : ( May the Venetian break the Ottoman so . ) Both Parties mixt , maintain a Noble strife , To purchase Vict'ry with the sale of Life : Guns , like their Hearts , with national heats inspir'd , The airy Arch into an Oven fir'd . The sing'd Birds to the upper Region fly For cool Protection , or i' th' lower dye . The Fish down to the boyling bottoms shrink , And there like Dutch , for Water Brandy drink . Vex'd Canons , like Perillus Engine , roar And with import'nate violence seem t' implore , Heaven to decide so vocal a contest , In such fair and Illustrious Colours drest . Had this been ( Ages since ) a Roman Wonder , 'T had taught their Ethnick Jove new Modes of Thunder . The English tir'd with the least Interval , For a more expeditious Conflict call : Resolv'd at length ( as the Old Story goes , The Romans serv'd their Carthaginian Foes ) To Grapple in close Fight , make the Dutch stand As firm at Sea , as if they fought on Land . The Monsieur ( who devoted his fine Blood Not to the Holland cause , but Neighbour-hood . ) Was at a losse , with tortur'd eye-brows gaz'd , Never at any Mistriss so amaz'd . Frolick at first , as if he came to hunt For Mer-maids , but met no venereal brunt : ( Venus was gone , and lay in Mars his Arms ; As Fortune did i' th' Dukes , with Nobler charms ) Must stand or fall ; things he 's not us'd to do , Can He but run with six Legs or with two . Fir'd over board the Poor petit French-man , Frisk like a Flounder lep't from frying Pan. Now Muskets more Blood than the Canons spill , Whilst Swords , some Dutch with meer reflections kill . Both sides engage with free expence of breath ; As sworn to conquer not their Foes , but death . Opdam falls like a grave Judge from his Chair , Is after coach'd in Flames into the Air. Lepanto's force , compar'd to this dread sight , Was a faint skirmish , or a painted fight . Two opposite Religions struggled there ; Christian with Turk , Christian with Christian here : Protestant with Protestant , a worse Fight Than Bell and Dragon , Pope and Hugonite . When two cross Elements for Mastery strive , One dyes , that so the other may survive : So kinder distance oft a quarrel ends , Continued by Antipathy of Friends . Opdam thus blown up in both Navies eye , ( That Giant of the Dutch Theomachy ) Loath to give up at once their boasted might , The Hollanders like wary Parthians fight : At length ( as night to day ) are forc'd to yield , And quit their Stations in the Liquid Field . While the astonish'd Sea in horrour stood , Discoloured with two tinctures , Flames and Blood . There might you see dismember'd men appear , Floating in shoals , no hope , nor Harbour neer : Had only this perswasive to rejoice , That of two certain deaths they had their choice : But newly scorcht with Flames they were content , To breath out in a cooler Element . Had you but seen ( beside the sunk and slain ) Those swarms of desp'rate Swimmers in the Main ; Astonisht then , both Fleets , you would have said , Was into Fishes metamorphosed . Great Duke , thou care of Heaven , hadst no defence , But a just Cause guarded by Providence : How did your courage the whole Fleet inspire , And coldest breasts to fearless Actions fire ? What sence of manhood wrought for Spain and France , Honour would for your Native soil advance : You skermish'd only as a Soldier there , Fought now as a concern'd Proprietere . Was here to nothing , but your self , unkind , When for exchange of deaths , you left behind Dear Relatives , a Brother and a King , A Royal Mother , and a nearer THING , The vertuous Dutchesse ; whose blest Prayers and tears Redeem'd your life , and ransom'd all our fears . Some great ones fell , t' instruct us by their fate , We honour love , which our base enemies hate ; A double glory from their falls did rise , To be their Countries , and your Sacrifice . O may the hearts of these three Nations burn One entire Holocaust for your Return . Brave Rupert , whose high , and yet humble spirit Disguis'd the Prince , distinguish'd by his merit : May the convinc'd world never more be rude To check your just fame by ingratitude . The English ( who in former times we find So civil and so hospitably kind ) 'Gainst strangers now a prejudice have rais'd , All may be Virtuosi , but none prais'd . Had all the Champions of our vanquisht Cause ( Who fought for honour , liberty and Laws ) Been stout as you , a glorious Wight ( now dead ) Had kept four Crowns , and his more precious head . Methink I hear some interrupting voice Whisper your worsted Enemies rejoice : Oh let them laugh that win ! let 'em make squibs Thank Heaven and us for threshing their Whale-ribs . A fool will soon conjecture it goes ill With him that 's bruis'd and is not sensible . What need they Conquer , whose unhallowed Bells Can cant a Vict'ry , when they should ring knells ? Who can their Froes with faigned bonefires greet , And mock the real bonefires of their Fleet. Well , seldome game so lost , but Losers make One trick ; The Conquer'd from their Conquerors take . Fortune was pleasant , when she lent the Dutch Our CHARITY , a thing they wanted much .