Close With A Frenchman, But Out-maneuver A

Frigates Are The Eyes Of A Fleet.

It Is My Turn Now; And If I Come Back, It Is Yours.

England Expects That Every Man Will Do His Duty.

Laurels Grow In The Bay Of Biscay, I Hope A Bed Of Them May Be Found In The Mediterranean.

Let Me Alone: I Have Yet My Legs And One Arm. Tell The Surgeon To Make Haste And His Instruments. I Know I Must Lose My Right Arm, So The Sooner It's Off The Better.