Meet tokens of our royal highness' trust,
Of all thy honours, doth become thee best
And make thee great in th' eyes of all mankind.
Let knights and all the men-at-arms, of deeds
Most bravely done, witness requital due.
Let all receive thee, and, with honour great,
Salute and style thee by thy name, Sir John.
Joy have thou of thy noble victory;
Therein, henceforth, shall lodge a noble peer,
Great England's glory, and the world's wide wonder.'
"He, too, did vow, with all his power and wit,
To let not the Queen's honour be defaced
Of friend or foe. So goodly thus
The golden chain of concord firm was tied.
But where is he whose mighty deeds do match
The best in that same field victorious?
His matchless might, his skill unparalleled,
And wondrous wit to manage high affairs,
Ne named when knights were newly nominate,
Ne thought upon when all things multiplying
To honour the kinsman who by him fought.
Forgotten, whether through the gods' decree,
Or hapless rising of some froward star,
I know not. It may be that both alike.
The charge doth merit well, and both did reign.
High hope I had, that they the highest things
On his wise head would lay, as were most meet.
By envy's sting and spite's more cruel gall,
He lacked the sword and shield and name of knight.
But nought could force him thus to lose or leave
His enterprise, though nought were him assigned
In meed of these great conquests by him got.
"Fie on the pelf for which good name is sold, And honour with indignity debased!'
They cried in fierce contention and debate;
So shortly was forgot the jeopardy
Which by his hand he lately did appease,
Picking out circumstances of contempt,
In which some men ingenious are, I wot.
"All vantages of time and power Drake takes
To reap the fruits of our most valiant deeds.
This rebel, object of wrath and subject of revenge,
Base rascal, bad, and hated of his kind,
Hath wrought his country's wreck for his own ends. A thousand deaths could not torment our hearts More than the thought of this doth vex our souls.'
"From time to time thus spake they, but in this
Is commendation to each brave knight due;
They ne'er forgot that they do love their Queen,
And, in true zeal for her, do all unite.
"The better part of this slow-lingering day
By this, snail-like and slow, had crept away,
For not one puff of wind did there appear;
And now fair Phœbus gan decline in haste,
And evening shadows gather on the waves.
All day the English ships transfix'd had lain,
In sight of that huge royal fleet of Spain,
That threaten'd, ere another day should pass,
To land her crews on England's blessed shores.
How can these waters bear their vessels up?
This channel, vexed with their impediment,
Disturbed e'en to its confining shores,
Should leave its bed, o'erswell its guarding cliffs,
To rid us of our haughty enemies.
"Ashore, with deep-pressed spurs our brave men
Eager to see the fate of that proud fleet.
For well the beacons bright had warned the land,
And messengers, through city, town and shire
Swift speeding, had the resolute army roused.
Nor was it long before was heard the sound
Of armed men gath'ring, with close intent,
Strongly to aid their country to withstand
Th' power of foreign foes, hov'ring too nigh,
And threat'ning an invasion of our land.
But all alike are powerless in the calm.
O would that sails might swolne be with sighs,
Or prayers unto the waves avail for aught!
But list! A fluttering wind does softly blow
From the south-west and glorious fill the sails
Of friend and foe. In sudden wonder waked
The dreaming crews, and thought to see the hosts,
Breathing out fury from their inward gall,
With great affray against them rise; and all
Prepared were against their course t' oppose
Our entire force. I' truth, we dared them to't
And ready were to wage this battle fierce.
But soon we saw the Spaniard did shake off
All offers that served not for his vantage.
Our ships are yare, his heavy; no disgrace
Befalls him for refusing us at sea,
Being prepar'd for land; he still increased
His fame of soldiership, in that he left
Unexecuted further performance
way which promised assurance
And firm security, nor gave himself
Merely to chance and hazard of the fight;
For all his power there nought at all prevailed,
Though fired with most furious despite.
Lastly he frets that we have much effected
By that magical word, the name of Drake,
The which had power to make his soldiers weak
And every quivering heart leap to the throat.
Indeed, he is the Jupiter of men;
Scribes, bards and poets cannot speak or write
The heaped thanks England to him doth owe.
"The Spaniard formed his fleet in proud array,
And, flying with the wind, passed bravely on;
We followed fast, close at his heels,
Fearing he would his ally shortly gain.
Veering before the wind, ploughing the sea,
His stretched sails filled with the breath of men,
That through the world admires his manliness,
The Lord High Admiral of the royal ships
Is with his vessels wafted by the fleet,
And ne'er does leave them till within a league
Of Calais roads, where, driven by the wind,
The Spaniards refuge seek where anchors hold may find; Then straight his course he shifts, and lo! at last
Arrived in Dover road, he comes not in
The compass of the port, but sendeth hence
With quick celerity a note unto the Queen,
And does entreat that she swift help will give,
Since at the first they were not well supplied
And now have scant provision for their men.
"If but we were for two months victualled,
And had the ammunition that we need,
I would not let the Spanish miscreants
'Scape with a single mast or sail in trim,
Or hull or keel that on the waves could ride.
If no relief or succor comes eftsoones,
Soldiers will mutiny for want of pay.
Of mere necessities there's scarcity.
'Tis a condition that is surely hard
And most unhappy.' Thus he writes in haste.
"Forthwith themselves and their sad instruments
Of spoil and murder gave they short relief,
To loose their warlike limbs from strong effort.
The sound of trumpet on the stilly air
Did summon to the Admiral's own ship
All those brave commanders. Then began
Sage counsel for the end they had in view;
And then to them thus did Lord Howard speak:
'My lords, you know our causes and our means;
And, my most noble friends, I pray you all
Speak plainly your opinions of our hopes.
O'tis unfortunate, deplorable,
This moderation in the use of gold,
'Tis altogether madness. I would see
The soldier and the sailor well prepared
And put in readiness for London's safety,
And for our sovereign's happiness and weal.
Her helps and safeguards are they, one and all.
Their souls do thirst within them to achieve
High honour and renown in her just cause.
How like the sturdy oaks in forest vast
Do these, our soldiers, circle her about
To shield and shelter her. Why does she thus
Incense her peers, that in their hearts would love
And honour her, with sacrifice of all
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