Englands Eliza. [Years 30-31.]

A Mirour for Magistrates: being a true Chronicle Historie of the untimely Falles of such unfortunate Princes and Men of Note, as have happened since the First Entrance of Brute into this Iland, untill this our Latter Age.

Richard Niccols

Philip's invincible Armada departs amid great pomp; Elizabeth refuses an accomodation and her subjects flock around her. The English fleet sets out to sea in a stanza bristling with Spenserian alliteration: "Those stout sea-searchers of the stormie flood, | The sonnes of Nereus broad sea-sayling race, | And the brave offspring of Prometheus brood, | That with loud thunder-claps their foe-men chace, | Who in Elizaes royall fleet had place, | Made solemne vowes, backe to returne no more, | Except with conquest to their native shore" p. 821. Elizabeth addresses her forces at Tilbury: "Thinke, what it is, to win a souldiers name, | And fight the battels of the mightie Jove" p. 824, and the battle is joined.

For three days Admiral Howard holds the main fleet at bay in the English Channel, while his captains keep the Duke of Parma bottled up in the Belgian harbor, spreading terror and confusion with their fire ships. Meanwhile, Drake and his comrades put the main force to flight: "They all array'd in warres vermillion, | Did chace them to those seas of stormes and thunder ... | And there they left them, in those seas to drowne, | Returning backe with conquest and renowne" p. 834. Richard Niccols describes the ensuing storm with as much gusto as he had the sea-fight: "Some the winde-turned water whirling round, | In the blacke whirle-poole helplesse did confound, | And some with boystrous billowes bruz'd and battred, | In sunder split, above the waves were scattred" p. 837.

Drake and Norris undertake the Portugal voyage to set Don Antonio on the throne; while towns are sacked and booty acquired, the Portugese refuse to rise against Spain: "they ignoble kind of dunghill brood, | With female hearts more cold in valiancie, | Then naked Indians" p. 845. While the siege at Lisbon is lifted, the English forces return "grac'd with noble conquest and rich spoile" p. 847.

Hous'd in their fleet, their ankors up they weigh'd,
Hoisted their top-masts with their sailes on high,
The misens then with winged winds displaid
Before their hollow keeles, that low did lie
Within the deepe, made parted billowes flie;
Their huge big bulkes made Neptunes back to bow,
And waves to swell upon his waterie brow.

Their towering heads, the heav'ns blacke clouds did kisse,
Borne by the winde-driven stormie waves on high,
Their hollow bosomes in the deepe Abysse
Amongst the surges of the fish-full skie,
Like mightie rockes from sight did hidden lie,
Whose brasse-arm'd sides such compasse did containe,
They seem'd to cover acres on the maine.

Whoso had seene them on the gulphic flood,
He would have thought some Delos now againe,
Some towne, some citie, or some desert wood,
Or some new unknowne world from shores of Spaine
Launcht off to seas, had wandred on the maine,
Peopled with those, that like quicke sprites in skie,
By little hold-fast all about could flie.

Each Barke, whose bulke was proofe against the wound
Of common shot, besides those Buls of brasse,
Whose bellowing rore did equall thunders sound,
Of such great thicknesse and high building was,
That like large towers they on the deep did passe;
For scarce could brazen cannons banefull thunder,
With battering bullet beat their sides asunder.

Their upper deckes, all trim'd and garnisht out
With sterne designes for bloodie warre at hand,
With crimson fights were armed all about,
And on the hatches many a goodly band
Deckt in brave armes, together thicke did stand,
Whose plume deckt heads themselves aloft did show,
And seem'd to dance, with windes wav'd to and fro.

With glittering shields their bosomes they did bar,
Each one well brandishing his fatall blade,
And from their bright habiliments of war,
Such blazing shine, as in the gloomie shade,
We often see by Phoebus beames displaid,
A splendor up into the air did throw,
And glittered on the glistning waves below.

Their top sailes, sprit sailes, and their misens all,
Their crooked sternes, and tackle every where
Adorned were with pennons tragicall,
Which in their silken reds did pictur'd beare
The sad ostents of death and dismall feare,
Who while their keeles through seas did cut their way,
In wanton waving with the winde did play.

The clangor of shrill trumpes triumphant sound
And clattering horror of their clashing armes,
Upon the bordering shores did so redound,
That even the deepe on their intended harmes
Of Englands coasts did sound out thicke alarmes,
Which strooke a terror to the heart of him
Who then did border about Neptunes brim.

So great a fleet, since that same god so old,
Grim-bearded Neptune bore the sea-gods name,
The golden eye of heav'n did nere behold,
Nor Agamemnons thousand ships, that came
To sacke proud Troy, and all her towers enflame,
Nor that Eoan monarchs fleet, that scar'd
The sonnes of Tyre, with this might be compar'd.

But while this mightie fleet did proudly boast
Her matchless might on Neptunes high command,
Brave Parma Lord of all th' Iberian host,
Both of the horse and foot, that came by land,
Did troope them up upon the Belgicke strand,
To whom th' assistants of the Castile King,
Their severall troopes of men did daily bring.

Beneath the bird of Jove the Prince of ayre,
Which th' house of Austria in their Ensignes bore,
The proud Burgundian marcht in armour faire,
Th' Italain, Germaine, Dutch, and many more
Of other lands and language, who before
Had often been renown'd in many a fight,
For their high valour, and approved might.

Such, and so mightie bands of famous men,
Adorn'd in richest armes of purest gold,
Upon those coasts before had never been,
Nor any Belgian ever did behold
Such martiall troopes upon that trampled mold,
So skill'd in habit of all fights in warre,
And for fights true direction past compare.

Both horse and foot of Spaines impetuous might,
And of the Auxil'arie bands, that came
As mercenaries for the bloodie fight,
Distinguisht under guides of speciall name,
Whom hope of spoile did to this warre inflame,
Drew towards the shores of Neptune, there to meet
And joyne their forces with the Navall fleet.

Which beeing titled long before in Spaine,
The fleet Invincible by all consents,
In all her pride now floted on the maine,
Readie prepar'd t' effect those blacke events,
Presag'd before by proud Spaines sad ostents;
Who by report through all the world had won
The name of conquest ere the fight begun.

The threatfull subjects of the Castile King,
In this huge fleet did such firme hope repose,
That all their sun-burnt brats they taught to sing,
Triumph and conquest, which they did suppose
Their very threats would purchase gainst their foes,
Who like brave Lords, their valour to renowne,
Did cast the dice for faire Elizaes Crowne.

Much like the vanting French, when John of France
In Poyctiers battell with his mightie host,
Not pondering in his mind warres doubtfull chance,
The gotten victorie did vainely boast,
Before that either part had won or lost,
Where brave Prince Edward with his troope so small,
Renown'd his sword with John of France his fall.

Even so this braving fleet, whose dreaded name,
Inevitable ruine did foretell,
Thought, that the faire Eliza, who did frame
Her life in happie daies of peace to dwell,
Unfurnisht was such forces to repell,
And therefore sent as from King Philips hand,
A sterne inscription with this proud command:

With auxil'arie bands she should no more
Uphold the Belgian gainst King Philips frowne,
All Spanish prizes back againe restore,
Build up religious houses beaten downe,
And unto Rome subject her selfe and crowne;
All which to do, if that she did withstand,
Her imminent blacke end was now at hand.

The noble Queene, who in her royall hand
Did beare the State and stay of Britanie,
In deepe contempt of such a basse command,
With spirit of princely magnaminitie,
Did briefly answere this proud ambasie:
For in proverbiall words her answere was,
"Isthaec ad Graecus fient mandata Kalendas."

An answere worthie, for the grace it bore,
The Virgin spring of old Plantagenet,
Who from the foes to shield her native shore,
Her subjects hearts for fight on fire did set,
And their bold stomackes did with courage whet,
Who fir'd with love of their Elizaes good,
In her defence did thirst to spend their blood.

For when for certaine, Fame th' intended harmes
Of Spaines blacke fleet to Englands shores did bring,
How gladly did her people flocke to armes,
And when the trumpe warres scathfull song did sing,
About their eares how pleasing did it ring?
Whose hearts with furie fed, to battell given,
With brave conceits did leape as high as heav'n.

All townes did ring with sudden cri'd alarmes,
Whence with loud clamour to the marine shore,
The armed people clustred in thicke swarmes,
Where red-ey'd Eris warres blacke ensigne bore,
And mongst their troops did sprinkle blood and gore;
Stirring them up with eager minds to wade
Through seas of blood, the adverse fleet t' invade.

And as the golden swarms of black-backt Bees,
Their thighes full loadean from the flowrie field,
With humming noise flie to the hollow trees,
Where they with busie paine fit shelter build,
Their treasure and themselves from harme to shield:
So thicke in armes, th' alarum once begun,
Unto their ships with shouting they did run:

Where with the mutuall strengths they did assay,
To hale Elizaes fleet from off the shore,
Some pumpt, some cleans'd, some drew the stockes away,
Some hoist the top-masts, some great burthens bore,
The Navies want with furniture to store:
And with the utmost diligence all wrought,
Till to perfection they their worke had brought.

Which from the shores, once launcht into the maine,
Not all the world a fairer fleet could show:
For though in hugenesse, that black fleet of Spaine
Did farre surpasse; yet was it farre more slow
In nimble stirrage wafting to and fro:
For England's fleet through seas swift passage won
With gentle gale, though th' Ocean smooth did run.

To shun their foes, each like a nimble Hinde
In Neptunes forrest, on the watrie greene,
Have skipt from wave to wave, and with the winde,
When they list turne againe; they have been seene
Like raging Lions in their heate of spleene,
Flie on the Castile fleet to bring them under,
And with fell rore to tear their sides in sunder.

All readie furnisht wafting to and fro,
Over the narrow seas deepe sandie beds,
They 'bout the coasts themselves did daily show,
In th' huffing winds waving their silken reds,
And crimson crosses on their loftie heads:
Those ancient badges, through the world renown'd,
Which with high conquest, Fortune oft hath crown'd.

Their brave demeanor did so much delight
The people, that beheld them on the maine,
That many more all readie for the fight,
Did make repaire, t' oppugne the fleet of Spaine;
Then all that royall Navie could containe:
Such fervent love unto their Soveraignes name,
With fierce courage did their hearts enflame.

Those stout sea-searchers of the stormie flood,
The sonnes of Nereus broad sea-sayling race,
And the brave offspring of Prometheus brood,
That with loud thunder-claps their foe-men chace,
Who in Elizaes royall fleet had place,
Made solemne vowes, backe to returne no more,
Except with conquest to their native shore.

Mongst whom the noblest object of them all,
That in the fleete did hold supreamest sway
Went honor'd Howard, as chiefe Admirall,
Who by his stout demeanor did assay,
With courage bold to lead them on the way,
And every heart did fill with hautie spirit,
By glorious deeds immortall fame to merit.

Upon th' Eolian gods supportfull wings,
With chearfull shouts, they parted from the shore,
While heav'n and earth and all the Ocean rings
With sounds, which on her wings loud echo bore,
Of trumpets, drums, shrill fifes and cannons rore,
To which the peoples shouts on shores fast by,
Reecho'd in the rockes with loud replie.

While they aboord at sea, so heere at home
T' avert all harmes, all subjects did prepare,
In mightie tumult to the murmuring drumme,
The multitude did make repaire from farre,
To trie their valour in th' approaching warre,
Thirsting to meet their foes on equall ground,
All hoping in their fall to be renown'd.

With ornaments of warre, the earth did flow,
Glazing the skies with armes resplendent light,
And every place in aire, shot up did show
The blood-red crosse, which did conduct to fight
Many fair bands, all men of powerfull might;
For both of horse and foot, from every shiere,
Thicke squadrons daily did in field appeare.

Th' appointed place of generall meeting was
In Essex, on the coast of Tilburie,
To which the people in such troopes did passe,
That with their traine the shores they multiplie
Like Palamedes birds that forme the Y,
When cloud-like in thicke flockes their flight they take
Ore Thracian woods, to Strymons seven-fold lake.

There pight they downe their tents t' oppose all harmes,
Set up the royall standards all about,
The faire support of Elizaes armes,
The rampant Lion, and the Dragon stout,
And th' ensigne of Saint George, which many a rout
Of Mars his noble race with conquering hand
Hath famous made, in many a forren land.

Under whose colours like a leavie wood,
The host in severall bands digested all
Inrackt about with shot and pike-men stood,
As firme for battell, as a brazen wall,
Who to the workes of death did thirst to fall,
Inflam'd in heart with burning fire to fight
For Englands Virgin, and their countries right.

Well did each horse-man, teach his horse to run,
To stoope, to stop, to turne, to breake the field,
Well each bold Musketier did use his gun,
Each Launceer well his weightie launce did wield,
Each drew his sword and well addrest his shield,
Teaching each other by this brave array,
How on their foes they best might give th' assay.

The sound of fifes, of drums, and trumpets shrill,
And mutuall exhortations for the warre,
All fainting hearts with manly sprite did fill,
And th' armed horse, that smell the fight from farre,
Inraged that the curbing bit should barre
Their fowardnesse, with neighing loud did crie
For present combat gainst the enemie.

Thus in the field the royall host did stand,
None fainting under base timiditie,
But readie bent to use their running hand
Against the force of forren enemie,
If they should chance t' arrive at Tilburie:
Mongst whom great Dudlie bore supreamest sway,
Against their foes to lead them on the way.

And as the daughter of the mightie Jove,
When from the browes of heav'n she takes her flight
Down to those sonnes of Mars, whom she doth love,
In her celestiall armes with glorie dight,
To bring them dreadlesse to th' approching fight;
So Englands Empresse, that undaunted Dame,
Unto the campe in glorious triumph came.

Like noble Tomyris, that Queene of Thrace,
Deckt in rich vestiments of shining gold,
Upon a snow-white steed of stately pace,
Mounted aloft she sate, with courage bold,
And in her hand a martiall staffe did hold,
Riding from ranke to ranke, and troope to troope,
To whom with reverence all the host did stoope.

Her comely gesture, and her Angels face,
The lodge of pleasure, and of sweet delight,
Did make the souldiers thinke some heavenly Grace
Had left Olympus, and with powerfull might
Had come from Jove, to cheare them up for fight,
Her presence did with such high spirit inspire
Their manly brests, and set their hearts on fire.

And as Bunduca, that bold Britaine dame,
When ore this land proud Rome did tyrannize,
Her Britaines hearts with courage to enflame,
Amidst their troopes all arm'd in seemely wise,
Did Pallas-like a pythie speech devise:
So our Faire Queene, bold spirit to infuse
Through all the host, these princely words did use.

(Captaines and souldiers, men of worthie fame,
And most admitted to our princely love)
Thinke, what it is, to win a souldiers name,
And fight the battels of the mightie Jove,
With safe protection from his power above,
Faint thoughts from your stout hearts be farre expell'd,
And feare of foes with courage bold be quell'd.

If that the foe, dare set his foot on land,
We with the best all danger will out dare,
And step by step, with you in person stand,
To be a partner with you, in that share,
Which God shall give us, be it foule, or faire:
Then by my side like loyall subjects stand,
And Jove assist us with his powerfull hand.

This said from ranke to ranke, she rode about,
Enabling their endevours for the fight,
And with sweet words from their bold breasts blew out
All fainting spirit, and did their hearts excite
With ready hands, to use their utmost might:
Which royall gesture of so faire a Queene,
Would have inspir'd a cowards heart with spleene.

Thus having chear'd the common souldierie,
The cloudie even began to shut up day:
Wherefore she backe return'd from Tilburie,
And towards that martiall field did take her way,
Where as that other royall armie lay,
In which did march the Nobles of the land,
In rich array, each with his severall band.

Troopt up there were in that same strong-arm'd host,
Fortie three thousand perfect in the frame
Of every fight, who of that rime may boast,
And crave inscription in the booke of fame,
T' have been the guard of so divine a dame,
Who for her person only chosen were,
Martiall'd by Hunsdon that true hearted Peere.

But while the noble Queene her selfe appli'd
T' oppugne the foe, that should her State assaile,
Loe, from the Groyne the blacke fleet was descri'd,
Who now befriended with a gentle gale,
For Englands rockie bounds did make full saile,
Of whom hight Captaine Femming first had sight,
And fled before them with industrious flight.

At Plimmouth port where th' English fleet did lie,
He with full saile came in, and cri'd amaine,
Weigh up your ankors, hoise your sailes on high;
For like Ortigian Delos on the maine,
Behold, th' Iberian fleet from shores of Spaine
Comes hard at hand, and threatens our decay;
Then arme, aboord with speed, make no delay.

This said, confusedly the souldiers ran
To ships from shore, earth flew about their fleet,
Then weigh'd they up their ankors, and each man
Put to his helping hand, to bring their fleet
Into the seas, the adverse foes to meet,
And though the froward winds did them withstand,
They warped out their ships by force of hand.

Then might they see from farre upon the maine,
Like a blacke-wood approching more and more,
Their foe-mens tragicke fleet, which in disdaine
With sound of trumpets, drums, and cannons rore,
Came proudly thundring by the rockie shore,
And with amazement th' English to affright,
Their souldiers with loud shouts the heav'ns did smite.

They sailing came in order for the fight,
In such a storme on Thetis silver brest,
As bright-cheekt Cinthia shewes in darkest night,
Whens stretching out her hornes into the East,
She shewes but halfe her face, and hides the rest,
Which made a cresent moone upon the maine,
Whose hornes eight miles in compasse did containe.

The royall English fleet, which did behold
The martiall order of their navall traine,
Came sayling forward, and with courage bold,
For Englands Queene did wave their fleet amaine,
Who in contempt soone waved them againe,
Whereby defiance with undaunted pride,
By cannons cuffe was given from either side.

Then bloodie Ennyon thundring out aloud,
Made each one thirst in fight his foe t' offend,
And as fierce fire wrapt up in dampish cloud,
With violent force the sides thereof doth rend,
And with pale lightning thunder downe doth send;
So Englands warlike fleet wing'd with swift gale,
Broke through the waves th' Iberians to assaile.

The drums did beat, the trumpets shrill did sound,
Each adverse force began the furious fight;
Then in the aire the fierce claps did redound
Of cannons hidious rore, and with affright,
Fire flashing leapt about and maz'd their sight;
And thus in furie did the fight begin
With darknesse, horror, death and dreadfull din.

The seas did boile, the buxome aire did swell,
A cloake of clouds did overcast the skie,
The echoing rockes the fight farre off did tell,
The Bullets thicke as haile from clouds on high,
From either side in gloomie smoake did flie,
And pale-fac'd death unseene of all the throng,
Above their heads in thicke fumes hovering hung.

The fight grew fell, and of disaster haps
In each blacke barke reports loud trumpet sings,
While heav'n records the cannons roring claps,
And the darke aire with grumbling murmurings
Of whistling bullets, borne on fiery wings,
Whose horrid thunder drown'd the vollies hot
And lesser noise of many a thousand shot.

Oft did the English with the winde and weather,
Charge on their foe-mens ships with hot assay,
Who for their safegard bound round up together,
Pluckt in their hornes and in a roundell lay,
While on their sides the cannon still did play,
Not daring fight, except to rescue those,
That beaten were by their bold Britaine foes.

Both the bold Howards, and Lord Sheffield hight,
With Hawkins, Frobisher, and famous Drake,
Brave Barker, Crosse, and Southwell that stout Knight,
There, where the foes the fight the most hot did make,
Through danger, dread and death their way did take,
And gainst their foes did fierie vengeance spit,
Which did their barks great bulkes in sunder split.

They brake into the midst of Spaines blacke fleet,
Opposing dreadfull death to win renowne,
As when in skies the earth-bred brothers meet,
When Boreas flying about with stormie frowne,
Doth cuff the clouds, and brings his brothers downe;
For with high spirit heav'n did their hearts inspire,
T' assaile the foes and burne their fleet with fire.

Renowned Howard Englands Admirall,
Longing to see the Castile Kings disgrace,
Their stoutest hearts with terror did appall,
Who meeting with his foe-men face to face,
Unto his furie made them all give place,
Breaking so farre into the fleet alone,
That from the adverse foes he scarce was knowne.

Where in the midst of danger uncontrol'd,
Upon the upper decke he stood on high,
From whence, when as from far he did behold
One of his Captaines, who did wafting lie
Without the danger of the enemie,
Out of a cloud of smoake he loud did call,
Above his head waving his sword withall.

(O George) quoth he, why dost thou shun the presse?
Report renownes thy name for valiancie:
Then leave me not alone in this distresse;
But with undaunted spirit follow me
To gaine the palme of glorious victorie;
So shall that hope, which I conceive of thee,
In this daies bloodie fight not frustrate bee.

The Captaine heard, and like a stormie puffe,
That stoopes from clouds and beats the billowes under,
He brake into the fight with cannons cuffe,
And came in height of spirit importing wonder
In clouds of smoake, in fierie flames and thunder,
With whom did many others give th' assay,
And through Spaines fleet did furrow up their way.

The foes turn'd head, and made a violent stand,
Both parts stood bent each other to confound;
The cannons thicke discharg'd on either hand
Wrapt clouds in clouds of smoake, which did abound,
And hurl'd their horrid thunder forth to wound;
But Fortune on the foes in fight did frowne,
And in her balance, Spaines hard lot sunk downe.

With fruits of death the fruiteless waves did flow,
The seas did blush with blood, the ayrie skie
Did swell with grones, and wandring to and fro,
In clouds of smoake the grudging soules did flie
Of slaughtred bodies, that did floting lie
About the Ocean, seeking for their tombes
In hollow rockes and monsters hungrie wombes.

And in the fight, t' increase the foe-mens harmes,
A ruddie flame from th' English fleet did flie,
Which swiftly seased in his spoilefull armes
The stout Viceadmirall of th' enemie,
Who proudlie bore her loftie head on high,
And with the violence of his flamefull flashes,
Did quickly burne her upper workes to ashes.

A golden bonfire on the silver waves
Did flote about, whose flame did reach the skies,
While the poore Spaniard and his captive slaves,
Seeing their tragicke fall before their eies,
Amidst the fire in vaine shriekt out shrill cries;
For th' horrid fire all merciless did choake
The scorched wretches with infestive smoake.

Many tall ships, that did in greatnesse passe
The greatest of our fleet, did fall in fight,
Mongst whom, that faire Galeon surprised was,
In which renowned Valdes, that stout Knight,
With other captaines of approved might,
Did yeeld themselves and all their golden treasure
To Noble Drake, to be at his good pleasure.

Three famous conflicts, in three several daies,
Elizaes hardie captaines did maintaine,
And by their valour won eternall praise,
Oft turning into flight the fleet of Spaine,
With dreadfull fire, and cannons deadly bane,
Who now t' effect what they did vainely boast,
Hover'd twixt Calice and the English coast.

There cast they ankor, and convei'd with speed
Swift notice to the Prince of Parma hight,
Who thither should repaire, as was decreed,
And while each adverse fleet stood hot in fight,
For England he should passe with all his might,
For which intent he had prepar'd before,
Foure hundred ships upon the Belgicke shore.

But noble Seimer in the foe-mens sight
With Justin of Nassau, that Belgian bold,
And worthie Winter, that undaunted Knight,
With their tall ships on th' Ocean uncontrol'd,
About the Belgicke strand strong gard did hold,
Whose proud afront the foes did daunt so sore,
That not a ship durst launch from off the shore.

Yet the stout Prince of Parma fondly led
With hope, that Allen, that false fugitive,
Sent from proud Sixtus to adorne his head
With faire Elizaes crowne, in vaine did strive
With all his power, his purpose to atchieve;
And unto Dunkirk came with all his force,
To put in practice his intended course.

Meane time the fleet, that did expect his aide,
Before French Calice did at ankor lie,
And now the chearefull day began to vade,
And Vulcans lovely Venus mounting high,
Appear'd for evening starre in Easterne skie,
Whereby both adverse fleets did cease from fight,
And rendred place unto th' approching night.

But when soft sleepe, the carelesse thoughts did bind
Of others, that secure in cabbins lay,
Each English leader in his labouring mind
Did fashion counsels, how to give th' assay,
And drive from thence their foe-mens fleet away,
Who there did purpose by the shore to lie,
That from the Prince they might have fresh supplie.

Amongst themselves our Captaines did agree,
That eight small ships with artificiall fire,
Amidst the Spanish fleet should driven bee
In dead of night, to execute their ire
Upon the foes that did sweet sleep desire:
Which dreadfull strategem against the foe,
Stout Yong and valiant Prowse did undergoe.

The time came on, the drowsie night did frowne,
Who clasping th' earths wide bounds with sable wings,
Upon the seas did powre grim darknesse downe,
While sleepe, that unto care sweet comfort brings,
In quiet slumber, husht all watchfull things;
And then the ships all fir'd for the event,
Amongst the foes with winde and tide were sent.

Through foggie clouds of nights Cymmerian blacke,
A glimmering light the watch did first espie,
Which drifting fast upon the sea-gods backe,
And to the Spanish fleete approching nigh,
Burst out in flames into the darkesome skie,
Glazing the heav'ns and chasing gloomie night,
From off the seas with admirable light.

A sudden puffe with force of powder driven,
Oft blew up sulpherie flames, in aire on high,
From whence, as if that starres did drop from heav'n,
The lively sparkes on wings of winde did flie,
Threatning confusion to the enemie:
Who startled from their sleepe, shriekt out th' alarme
To every ship, to shun such dismall harme.

Th' Iberians drown'd before in sweet repose,
With feare affrighted from their naked rest,
Their eye-lids wanting weight one winke to close,
Beheld the fire on Neptunes burning brest,
Which trembling horror in their hearts imprest;
For floting towards them with fearefull flashes,
In threatned sore to burne their ships to ashes.

Then with disorder every one did cut
Their black pitch'd cables, hoysing sailes with speed,
And from the shore to the maine seas did put,
In hope from present danger to be freed,
That did such terror in their bosoms breed,
While on the waves the burning ships bright light
Did make a sun-shine in the midst of night.

Who being disperst amongst their Navie came,
And like fire-spitting monsters on the maine,
In sable clouds of smoake and threatning flame,
Did fiercely bellow out their deadly bane;
Which horror th' English Navie did maintaine,
Discharging all their thundring shot together
Upon th' Iberian foes with winde and weather.

The horrid noise amaz'd the silent night,
Repowring downe blacke darknesse from the skie,
Through which th' affrighted Spaniard with blind flight,
His friends from foes not able to descrie,
Upon the darkesome waves did scattered flie;
In which disturbance driven with winde and weather,
Spaines chiefe Galiasse fell foule upon another.

Which all unable to escape with flight,
The startled fleet did leave alone forlorne,
Keeping aloofe at sea, all that sad night;
But when from th' East the opall-coloured morne
With golden light the Ocean did adorne,
The English fleet Spaines great Galliasse did spie,
Which cast upon a sandie shoale did lie.

Whom Captaine Preston valiantly did bord,
Sent from the fleet in his long boat well man'd,
Which with an hundred hardie men was stor'd,
Who to the face of death oppos'd did stand,
About the ship using their readie hand,
Gainst whose assault at first th' Iberian foes,
With proud resistance did themselves oppose.

For Hugo de Moncada, valiant man
With noble courage did the fight maintaine,
Till through his wounded foreheads hardned pan,
A fatall shot with bullets deadly bane,
Made open passage to the lively braine,
Who being slaine, to shun the slaughtering sword,
Most of the residue leapt over bord.

Thus great King Philips mountaine-like Galliasse,
In which three hundred slaves lug'd at the oare,
And twice two hundred armed men did passe,
Was soone despoil'd of all her golden store
By a small band of men on Calice shore,
Which fiftie thousand duckets did containe,
Of the rich treasure of the King of Spaine.

Meane time the blacke fleet floting on the maine,
The night before disperst with foule affright,
In hope her former purpose to obtaine,
Return'd againe from base inglorious flight,
Arang'd in order for the navall fight,
Which in divided squadrons th' English fleet,
With hot incounter furiously did meet.

Who bound up round together in a ring,
Lay close in their defence against their foe;
But as the Southerne blasts in budding spring,
When Austers swelling cheekes do overflow
In handfuls thicke the blossomes downe to blow;
So thicke and dreadfully did slaughter flie
From th' English fleet amongst the enemie.

Then had th' Iberians dread, their pride did bow,
Their foes by valour brake their navall round,
And as a torrent from an hils steepe brow,
Clad in fresh showers and thunders fearefull sound,
Beares all before it in the plaine land ground;
So did they beat from off their native bounds;
Spains mighty fleet with cannons scathful wounds.

And where the skirmish was propos'd most hot,
Their valiant Drake did break into the fight,
And though his ship was pierc'd with wounding shot
Twice twenty times; yet with undaunted might
He horriblie did plie their sudden fright,
And with wide wounds the hollow keels did batter
Of three tall ships betwixt the winde and water.

Then in despaire with hands and weeping eies,
To heav'n the wretches prai'd for their escape,
And to some Saint of heav'n with open cries,
Each one in blind devotion prayers did shape;
But all in vaine, the gulphie flood did gape,
And in the deepe of his devouring wombe,
Both men and ships did suddenly intombe.

The rest all daunted with such uncouth sight,
From spoile to save their fleet no time did spare,
But hoysing saile betooke themselves to flight,
Cursing sterne fate, that brought their fleet so farre,
To be despoil'd in such successelesse warre;
And after all their boasting backe recoyl'd,
With emptie hands unto their native soyle.

They heartlesse fled, but in their hastie flight,
Two great Galeons of captiv'd Portugale,
The huge Saint Philip, and Saint Matthew hight,
Great Seymer and stout Winter did so gall
With wounding cuffe of cannons fierie ball,
That on the Belgian coast by friends forsaken,
They with their Captaines by their foes were taken.

Meane time the English with full saile did plie
The manage of the foes inglorious flight,
And as high stomack'd hounds, that with full crie
Pursue the fearefull game, do take delight
To pinch the haunch behind with eager bite;
So did Elizaeas fleet pursue the foes
With shouts of men, and bullets baneful blowes.

They all array'd in warres vermillion,
Did chace them to those seas of stormes and thunder,
Over whose waves in heav'ns pavillion,
Amongst those many golden workes of wonder,
A Dragon keepes two wrathfull Beares asunder,
And there they left them, in those seas to drowne,
Returning backe with conquest and renowne.

They gone, the wretched foes in wofull case
Helplesse, perceiving by sterne fortunes doome,
Their action ended in extreame disgrace,
And in fames stead, for which they forth did come,
Finding but wounds to cure when they came home,
Did curse the ordinance of mightie Jove,
Gainst whom with their huge strength in vaine they strove.

But while at sea, all were to labour given,
Securely rigging up their crazed ships,
Al-seeing Jove did worke their banes in heav'n;
For in an instant from his heav'nly lips,
From Pole to Pole a winged message skips,
And posting round about the earths great ball,
From th' house of stormes th' Eolian slaves did call.

Then furious Auster, Joves command once given;
With Eurus, Zephirus, and Boreas ruffe,
Stoopt from the cloudie corners of the heav'n
Upon those seas, and with a violent puffe,
The tumbling billowes all on heapes did cuffe;
And raving gainst the rockes with hidious rore,
Wrapt waves in waves, and hurl'd them on the shore.

Meane while nights curtaines steept in Stygian blacke,
The crystall battlements of heav'n did hide;
Then Jove did thunder, and the heav'ns did cracke,
Pale lightning leapt about on every side,
The clouds inconstant flood-gates opened wide,
And nought, but mists, haile, raine, dark stormes and thunder,
Did fall from heav'n upon the salt seas under.

The white froth-foaming flood began to rave,
And enter combate with the fleet of Spaine,
Hurring it head-long on the mountaine-wave,
How from the shores into the roring maine,
And now from thence unto the shores againe,
While all the stoutest sea-men quake and quiver,
Lest winde-driven waves their ships to sunder shiver.

Here strike, strike (sirs) the top mast one doth crie,
Another saies, vale misene and sprit saile,
And heere a third bids, let the maine sheate flie,
And fall to worke themselves from death to baile,
Some cut the saile-cloaths, some again do haile
The saile yards downe, while others pumpe with paine,
Sending the seas into the seas againe.

Heere one up lifted on a mountaine steepe,
By dreafull flashing of heav'ns lightning bright,
With pallid feare lookes downe upon the deepe
Into a pit, as deepe and blacke in sight,
As Tartarus the lothsome brood of night,
In whose wide gulfie mouth he thinkes to drowne,
Seeing the ship all topsie turning downe:

Another heere in sandie shoale doth lie,
With mountaine waves on all sides walled round,
And seems from hell to see the loftie skie,
Looking, when wallowing waves with windie bound,
In that deepe pit the vessell would confound,
Till with the lustie wave, the mounting ship
From thence to heav'n doth in a moment skip.

The poore sad sailers beaten out of breath
With toilesome paine, and with long watching worne,
Through feare, the feeble consort of cold death,
Not knowing, alas, which way themselves to turne,
With wofull cries their fatall fall did mourne,
And cast their eyes to heav'n, where, what was seene,
Was blacke as hell, as if no heav'n had been.

Heere the greene billowes bounding gainst a ship,
Uncaukes the keele, and with continuall waste,
Washing the pitch away, the seames unrip,
While th' angrie tempest with a boistrous blast,
Beares the false stem away, springs the maine mast,
And breaking downe the decke, doth passage win
For the next surging sea to enter in.

Then all amaz'd shriekes out confused cries,
While the seas rote doth ring their dolefull knell,
Some call to heav'n for helpe with weeping eies,
Some moane themselves, some bid their friends farewell,
Some Idols-like in horrors senseless dwell,
Heere in sad silence one his faint heart showes,
Another there doth thus his feare disclose:

Thrice happie they whose hap it was in sight
Against the foes to fall, when others stood,
(Ye conquering English causers of our flight)
Why were your swords not bath'd in my deare blood?
And why did I not perish in the flood?
Where brave Moncada di'd with many more,
Whose bodies now do swim about the shore.

This said, a wave, that never brake asunder,
But mounting up, as if with loftie frowne,
It view'd the working of the waters under,
Came like a ruin'd mountaine falling downe,
And with his weight the wretched ship did drowne,
Which sinking, in the gulfe, did seeke her grave
And never more appear'd above the wave.

Many more ships did perish in the deepe,
Some downe from top of waves to sandie ground,
All rent and torne the angrie surge did sweepe,
Some the winde-turned water whirling round,
In the blacke whirle-poole helplesse did confound,
And some with boystrous billowes bruz'd and battred,
In sunder split, above the waves were scattred.

The other ships, that huge of building were,
Whose bulkes the billow could not beat asunder,
And whom the furious storme perforce did beare
Amongst the raging seas, now up, now under,
Though through the waves, they wrought it out with wonder,
Yet many gainst the rockes the surge did beare,
And with the fruitlesse sands some covered were.

Heere five at once round set with surging waters,
Sticke fast in quick-sands, sinking more and more,
There five againe the furious billow batters,
Being hurried head-long with the South-west blore,
In thousand pieces gainst great Albions shore,
Whereby the fruitlesse waves tost to and fro,
With fruits of ship-wracke every where did flow.

Here one fast holding by the broken shivers
Of some wrackt ship, to heav'n lifts up his eies,
There drifting on the mast, one quakes and quivers,
Another heere his outstretcht armes applies
By slight of swimming on the waves to rise;
But all in vaine, the billowes breake in sunder
Above their heads, and beate their bodies under.

Heere with sustentive palmes themselves to save,
Two crawling up a cliffe, on backe is borne
By the next surge in seas to seeke his grave,
The other by the billow rent and torne
Upon the ragged rocke, is left forlorne,
Where in his luke-warme blood he sprawling lies,
And th' happlesse food of hungrie fowles he dies.

The rest, that did the Irish coast obtaine,
And had escap'd the furie of the flood,
By those wilde people wofully were slaine,
The Irish swift of feete, and flesht in blood,
Who thicke upon the shore together stood
With deadly darts, to strike each foe-man dead,
That 'bove the wave did beare his fainting head.

Great Joves command, perform'd upon the foes,
Th' Eolian King call'd home his windes againe;
Then ceast the storme; then did the seas disclose
The armes, the painted robes, and spoiles of Spaine,
Which heere and there did flote upon the maine,
By England, Ireland, Norway, Normandie,
Where now did act their fleets blacke tragedie.

For of one hundred thirtie foure faire keele,
But fiftie three did greet their native soile,
Of thirtie thousand men arm'd with bright steele,
The greatest number after all their toile,
Did perish in great Neptunes wrackfull spoile,
And all the Prince of Parmaes mightie bands
Return'd with shame, disgrace and emptie hands.

Thus our Elizaes boasting enemie,
Who in vaine pride did blacke their tragicke fleet,
And brought oftents of threatning destinie,
In top of all their hope with shame did meet,
And fell beneath the conquering Virgins feet;
Unable many yeares to cure againe
The wounds, which in this warre they did sustaine.

Thus Romes proud Sixtus, Englands mortall foe,
Who towards the conquest of this Emperie,
A million with his blessing did bestow,
And did presage undoubted victorie
With seeming future searching prophesie,
Nor with his holy blessing, nor his gold
This mightie fleet from falling could uphold.

But while Romes Sixtus, twixt foule shame and feare,
For such great losse gainst Fortune did exclaime,
Fame through the world triumphantly did beare
This glorious act in our Elizaes name,
Who glorifying not in her foe-mens shame,
With bounteous grace did use the victorie
To her proud foes in their captivitie.

The baser sort, though made her peoples scorne,
Yet of her bountie she from death did spare,
The better sort as her owne liege men borne,
And common benefits did freely share,
And tooke the solace of the open aire,
Whom she, though subjects of a mightie foe,
To his disgrace triumphing did not show.

AN. REG. 31.
Under a canopie of gold wide spread
In chariot throne, like warres triumphant dame,
With crowne imperiall on her Princely head,
Borne by two milke-white steeds in State she came
To Pauls high Temple, while with loud exclaime,
The people in her passage all about
From loyall hearts their Avies loud did shout.

Where round about the Temples battlements
Hung th' ensignes of her vanquisht enemie,
As gracefull Trophies, and fit ornaments,
T' adorne with State and greater Majestie,
The triumph of her noble victorie,
Which in the peoples sight made pleasing showes,
Who laugh'd to scorn the threatning of her foes.

But she meeke Prince dismounting from her throne,
With Ivorie fingered-hands uplifted high
On humble knees, ascribe unto none
The honor of this great deeds dignitie,
But to th' Olympian Kings great Deitie,
Who 'bove the rest, that scepters States did weeld,
Her as his chosen, did from danger sheeld.

(O matchlesse Prince) though thy pure Maiden breast
Retrain'd that spirit of magnanimitie,
That only brav'd proud Romes world-braving beast,
Yet didst thou not with vaunting vanitie
Abuse the glorie of thy victorie:
But after all thy high atchievements wonne,
To heav'ns great King gav'st praise, of what was done.

Which he accepting as an humble show
Of her milde meeknesse, did so glorifie
The fame of this high conquest gainst the foe,
That her great name, since that great victorie,
Yet lives a staine unto her enemie;
Yea many that beneath his yoke did grone,
Then su'd for succour at her Princely throne.

Prince Don Antonio, heire suppos'd by right
Of all consents to Don Sabastiani, slaine
Against the barbarous Moore in bloodie fight,
Exil'd his countrie by the power of Spaine,
Of his hard hap did unto her complaine,
Imploring aide at her assistant hands,
To free his countrie from Iberian bands.

The noble Virgin with remorsefull eyne,
Viewing that wretched State all rent asunder,
To pitie did her Princely heart incline,
And to the seas sent those two sonnes of thunder,
That in the world had wrought so many a wonder,
Renownd Drake, and Norrice worthie wight,
With Don Antonio to obtaine his right.

AN. REG. 31.
With many a worthie souldier shipt from shore,
The stormie seas wilde wildernesse they plow'd,
And through the wrinkled waves rouz'd in rough rore,
Began to bandie billowes, waxing proud;
Yet th' English Navie, through tumultuous crowd
Of darksome surges, did swift passage sweepe
Unto the shores of the Galician deepe.

Where taking land, as Bees from cranied rockes
Breake through the clefts, and to increase their store,
About the fields flie every way in flockes:
So from their ships the souldiers more and more
In mightie tumult multipli'd the shore,
Where uncontrol'd themselves they did conjoyne
In martiall troopes, and marched towards the Groyne.

Which to defend from spoile the fainting foes
By need constrain'd, at first forth boldly came,
And in the field our forces did oppose;
But being with furie charg'd by men of fame,
Unto the towne they backe retir'd with shame,
Whom to the gates the English did pursue,
And with smart stripes did reach them as they flew.

Nor could their strong erected walles withstand
The fierce assaylants, who with nimble sprite
Did scale their bulwarkes, and by force of hand
Did turne th' Iberians into shamefull flight,
Although with most advantage they did fight,
Of whom five hundred on the dust fell dead,
The rest to th' upper towne amazed fled.

The towne surpris'd, stor'd in the same were found
The sterne designes of Philips raging teene;
For every place with shipping did abound,
Which for another fleet prepar'd had beene,
Intended once againe against our Queene;
But by despoiling of this conquered towne,
King Philips hopes they in despaire did drowne.

From hence the victors, in battalia led
To th' upper Groyne by Norrice noble Knight,
To which the foes had for their safegard fled,
Did march with speed, and in their foes despight
Before the towne their warlike tents did pight,
Where in strong battery many daies they lay,
And to remove them none durst give th' assay.

Yet by the towne six miles from off the coast,
The Count D' Andrada with his armie lay,
Betwixt Petrance and the English hoast,
Who boasting with his powers to drive away
The foes from Groyne; yet durst not give th' assay;
But kept aloofe intrencht within the ground,
With strong built Baracadoes fenced around.

Which, when brave Norrice heard, with Drakes consent
Nine regiments amongst the rest he chose,
And whirlewinde-like with furie forth he went,
Marching with winged pace upon the foes,
On their owne ground with them to bandie blowes,
On whom hight Edward Norrice Lion-like,
Gave the first charge with his sharpe pointed pike.

Which with such furious force he did pursue,
That over thrusting downe he fell to ground,
At which advantage in the foe-men flew,
And in the head the valiant Knight did wound,
Whom in extremitie begirted round
By eager foes, his brother with strong hands
Resuc'd from danger, death or captive bands.

Then noble Sidnie, Wingfield, Middleton,
Each with his band made in upon the foes,
Then Hinder, Fulford, and stout Erington,
Stood firme in fight, and in the violent close
Amonst the Iberians dealt such martiall blowes,
That their chiefe Leaders in the field were slaine,
Or wounded, could no more the fight maintaine.

The other fled, and th' English did pursue
With speedie haste, a number fell in chace,
Three miles the dust, with blood they did imbrue,
Some downewards groveling did the ground embrace,
Some upwards spread, did shew deaths gastly face,
Three miles in compasse on that haplesse soile,
Did flow with fruits of blood, of death, and spoile.

The valiant victors, that did backe returne,
Loaded with golden bootie from the chace,
The fruitfull countrie round about did burne
With wastfull fire, which did in every place
Townes, towers, woods, groves with hungrie flames embrace,
Whose people did from farre behold the flame
With teare-torne eyes; yet could not helpe the same.

Thus fam'd-grac'd Norrice crown'd with victorie,
Unto the Groyne returned backe againe,
And with more worth his deede to amplifie,
King Philips standard with the armes of Spaine,
Which from his foes in fight he did constraine,
Before him in his march advanced was,
As with his troopes he towards the Groyne did passe.

Where he not long the voyage did delay
For Portugale in Don Antonioes right;
But left the Groyne and lanched off to sea,
Where with that noble Earle great Essex hight,
His brother, and stout Williams that bold Knight,
He happily did meet, who with full gale
To Portugale together forth did saile.

And in a storme, as people sent from heav'n,
That Nation unto freedome to restore,
They by the tempest gainst Peniche driven,
Up to the waste in waters raging sore,
Through death and danger waded to the shore;
Where when they came upon the marine sands,
In spight of foes they martiall'd up their bands.

For when the Conde De Fuentes came
With his proud troopes t' afront them in the fight,
The valiant Devorax in Elizaes name
Before the castle, and the towne in sight,
Did charge upon them with such violent might,
That horror spread, through each Iberian troope,
To servile feare made stoutest hearts to stoope.

None durst abide, with foule retreate all fled,
Free passage to the victors open lay,
Who towards the towne did marche, from whence, in dread
Of their approch, the people fled away,
And left the towne unto their foes for prey,
Whereby the castle taken with the same,
They did possesse in Don Antonioes name.

From hence towards Lisbon they did march forthright,
And in the way the noble Generall
Did enter Torres Vedras in despight
Of that vaine boast, of the proud Cardinall,
Who gave his faith to them of Portugale
T' oppose him in the field, though with delay,
He kept aloofe, and durst not give th' assay.

To Lisbon gates, troopt up in martiall pace
The English went, and in the suburbs pight
Elizaes ensignes in the foes disgrace,
In hope that Don Antonio would excite
The people to his aide, and in his right
Shake off the bondage which they did sustaine,
Thereby their late-lost freedom to regaine.

But they ignoble kind of dunghill brood,
With female hearts more cold in valiancie,
Then naked Indians, who with losse of blood
Have often fought in midst of miserie,
To free themselves from servile slaverie;
When such stout champions in their cause did stand,
Durst not appeare to use their helping hand.

The sweets of libertie, for which the Jew
Withstood stout Titus, mightie Caesars sonne,
The loyall love that th' ancient Britaine drew
To those great deeds for Caractaccus done,
When Romes Ostorius did this land orerun,
The heartlesse Portugale could not excite,
To hazard fortune gainst the foes in fight.

For many daies the English with renowne,
Gainst death and danger did themselves oppose,
And gave assault unto the chiefest towne,
By their high fortitude t' imbolden those,
That liv'd in dread of their insulting foes;
And to performe their promis'd force for fight
Against the foes, in Don Antonios right.

Yet at their hands no helpe to this assay
Elizaes famous Captaines could obtaine,
Who wanting power their valour to display,
When the sad Prince Antonio all in vaine
The peoples helpe had sought, and none could gaine,
Remov'd their martiall power gainst Lisbon bent,
And towards Cascais unto their Navie went.

Where valiant Drake with his triumphant fleet,
Came up the river as it was decreed,
And with the armie at Cascais did meet,
Whose meeting to the foes such feare did breed,
That at their first approch, the towne with speed
And castle both without long batterie,
Did stoope their pride to th' English valiancie.

And where the foes that proudly ranged were
Fast by Saint Julians, readie arm'd for fight,
Had broadly misreported, that with feare
Of their approch their foes with foule affright,
Themselves had taken to inglorious flight,
Undaunted Norrice with his martiall traine,
Did towards Saint Julians backe returne againe.

And valiant Essex this bold challenge sent,
As combatant in his great Soveraignes name,
To know, who durst of noble borne descent,
Stand forth amongst the rest to fight for fame,
And trie by blowes the cause, for which they came;
Or if that eight to eight, or ten to ten,
Durst tempt their fate in fight like valiant men.

But through th' Iberian armie not a man
Stood forth as combatant in single fight;
For when the Generall with his troops began
T' approach their campe, before he came sight,
They fled away befriended by the night,
Nor stai'd they till they made great Lisbon gate,
Their safe Asylum gainst all adverse fate.

Meane time, that sea-fam'd Captaine worthie Drake,
Twice fortie martiall ships well man'd for fight,
In seas did sinke, did burne, did spoile and take;
Mongst whom Saint John de Colerado hight,
Third unto none in building and in might,
He burnt with raging fire of flaming brand,
And sunk her bulke in shoales of swallowing sand.

Thus though the English disappointed were
Of seating Don Antonio in the throne,
Throgh that base female stomackt nations moane,
Whose sad distresse no future time shall moane,
Though under tyrants yoke their spirits groane;
Yet fame, the prize on which they ment to pray,
In their swift barks with them they brought away.

And being launcht into the seas blacke brest,
By stormie puffe of Austers blustring blore,
They carried were with violent storme opprest,
'Bout Bayon Iles, and towards the sandie shore
With swift winde-swelling sailes their Navie bore,
Where both the Generals on the barren strand,
Did with two thousand souldiers put to land.

And as the wealthie fields of ripe-growen corne,
Which overcharg'd with feed their heads do bow
Are by the reaper downe in handfuls borne,
Who for that meed, which th' owner doth allow,
Still plies his labour with a sweatie brow;
So th' English did with sword and fire despoile
The fruitfull plentie of that pleasant soile.

That strong street-fenced towne, Vigo by name,
In ashie heapes on ground did groveling lie,
And on the swift wings of a golden flame,
The vale-inriched Borsis mounting high,
With blazing shine did glaze the cloudie skie,
While eight miles compass Vulcanes fierie fume
Dame Ceres gifts did in the vales consume.

Thus grac'd with noble conquest and rich spoile,
The valiant victors with their royall fleet,
Did passe the seas unto their native soile,
Where falling prostrate at their Soveraignes feet,
With glorious prize the Virgin they did greet,
The praise of which what they to her had given,
She gave againe unto the King of hea'vn.

Upon the deepes of Neptunes large command,
Many more high exploits were daily done,
And from the vanquisht foes by force of hand,
Many faire ships of many a hundred tunne
Full fraught with wealthie prize were daily wonne,
For forren pens speake wonder of the fame,
And rich spoiles gotten in Elizaes name.

That famous horse-man, launce-fam'd Clifford hight,
The great Heroe noble Cumberland,
About th' Azores in his foes despight
Did scoure the seas, and with three ships command
Each famous port upon that slimie strand:
For those few English, which he did assemble
In three small ships, made all Tercera tremble.

Upon the walles of Fayall, that strong towne,
Which huge mount Pyco overlookes from West,
He by strong hand with Englands crosse did crowne,
And gainst that strand upon the seas broad brest,
Many great bulkes with blacke rouz'd waves distrest
Of th' Indian fleet, full fraught with prize for Spaine,
He brought to England ore the broad-backt maine.

Yet he alone brave champion ever prest,
For his faire Mistresse to defend her right,
Did not triumph on Neptunes watrie brest;
But many more, all men of famous might,
The utmost parts of earth and seas did smite
With loud report, that Englands bounds did keep,
A Virgin, that was Ladie of the deepe.

[pp. 815-48]