ENGLAND'S Royal Conquest.  
Truly manifested in a happy Victory obtained against the Dutch Fleet, by his Majesty's Royal Navy, under the Conduct of his Highness' Prince Rupert, and his Grace the Duke of Albemarle upon the 25. and 26. of July 1666. In which Naval Fight we put the Dutch to a total rout, burnt and sunk several of their best ships, and in conclusion forced them shamefully to run away.  
Our own losses being very inconsiderable, only the Resolution burnt and two Captains killed: Our Generals and all the rest of our Fleet, being safe and in a very good Condition.  
The Tune is, A Fig for France and Holland too, or, Round about the Hollow Tree.  
 
 


Rejoice, Rejoice, brave English boys  
For now is the time to speak our joys  
The routed Dutch are run away,  
And we have clearly won the day;  
We now are Masters of the Seas,  
And may with safety live at ease  

Then Butter-Boxes all lament,  
For now you are paid to your own content.    

You thought to rule as Lords and Kings.  
But now we've taught you better things,  
Methinks you might have known before,  
What 'twas to come so near our shore,  
You often times have tried our force,  
And still you always had the worse;  

Then Butter-boxes all lament.  
For now you are paid to your own content.    

The Dutch are grown so wise and sage,  
Without great odds they'll not engage,  
Brave Englishmen will never grudge,  
With twenty sail, to fight forty Dutch,  
And bring their Lordships by the Lee,  
And pay them home for their treachery.  

Then Butter-Boxes all lament  
For now you are paid to your own content.     

The Second part,  
to the same Tune.  

WHhilst that our Ships were sitting forth,  
They counted us men of little worth  
Upon our Coast they made great shows,  
Not thinking to be paid with blows,  
But when our Fleet did once appear,  
O then their hearts were filled with fear,  

Then Butter-boxes all lament,  
For now you are paid to your own content.    

July the five and twentieth day,  
Began this Sharp and bloody fray,  
At noon the Fleets were both engaged,  
And men on each side were enraged,  
The Bullets they did fly amain,  
And some were wounded, others slain,  

Then Butter-boxes all lament,  
For now you are paid to your own content.    

Prince Rupert and brave General Monk,  
So pelted Ruyter and Vantrump,  
That they were in a chafing sweat,  
And thought it safest to retreat,  
By little and little they shrunk away,  
Their want of courage did them betray,  

Then Buter-boxes all lament,  
For now you are paid to your own content.    

Five hours they fought courageously,  
Before the Dutch began to fly,  
But then their Fleet was severed quite,  
Whilst we maintained a chase Fight,  
For two day's space we did pursue,  
And pelted them till their sides looked blue,  

Then Butter-boxes all lament,  
For now you are paid to your own content.    

Sir Jeremy Smith did roughly greet,  
The Amiral of the Zealand Fleet,  
With fire and ball he made them run,  
Until the Victory he had won,  
Most bravely he maintained the Fight,  
Till they divided were by night,  

Then Butter-boxes all lament,  
For now you are paid to your own content.    

Brave Allen and Holmes, fought like men,  
And chased the Dutch with five to ten,  
So sharply they did ply the Fight,  
Till all the Dutch were routed quite,  
The Flemings found such boisterous play,  
That they in plain terms ran away,  

Then Butter-boxes all lament,  
For now you are paid to your own content.    

Eight Ships of theirs we sunk and fired,  
Which for to save they much desired,  
And killed great numbers of their men,  
Where we lost one still they lost ten,  
We lost a Stately Ship and Tall,  
The Resolution we did her call,  

Then Butter-boxes all lament,  
For now you are paid to your own content.    

Our Generals (blest be God) are well,  
And all our Fleet as we hear tell,  
Lies daring on the Holland's Coast,  
The Dutch have now no cause to boast,  
'Tis said the Ruyter and Trump are slain,  
And never will face their Foes again,  

Then Butter-boxes all lament,  
For now you are paid to your own content    

The Cannons from the Tower did roar,  
When this good news did come to shore,  
The bells did ring and bonfires shine,  
And healths caroused in beer and wine,  
God bless King Charles and all our Fleet,  
And grant true friends may safely meet,  

Then Butter-boxes brag no more.  
For now we have Beaten you o'er and o'er.     

With Allowance.   
FINIS.   

London, Printed for Richard Burton at the Horshoe in West-Smithsield.