Our fraught is Grecians, Turks, and Africk Moores.
For late upon the coast of Corsica,
Because we vail'd not to the Turkish Fleet,
Their creeping Gallyes had us in the chase:
But suddenly the wind began to rise,
And then we luft, and tackt, and fought at ease:
Some have we fir'd, and many have we sunke;
But one amongst the rest became our prize:
The Captain's slaine, the rest remaine our slaves,
Of whom we would make sale in Malta here.
