The Principal Navigations, Voyages, Traffiques and Discoveries of the English Nation Volume Vii Part 14

But for the head, in soueraigntie did boast, It Captayne was, director of alarms, Whose rashness, if it hazarded an ill, Not hee alone but all the hoast did spill.

Rash _Isadas_, the _Lacedemon_ Lord, That naked fought against the _Theban_ power, Although they crown'd his valure by accord, Yet was hee find for rashness in that hower: And those which most his carelesse praise affoard, Did most condemne what follie did deuoure; For in attempting, prowesse is not ment, But wiselie doing what we doe attempt.

Then sith t'is valure to abandon fight, And base to darre, where no hope is to winne, (Renowned man, of all renowne the light) Hoyst vp thy sailes, delay attrackts thy sinne, Flie from ill-boding starres with all thy might, Vnto thy hart let praise and pittie in.

This sayd, and more desirous much to crie, Sir _Richard_ stayd him, with this rich replie.

Captayne, I praise thy warlike eloquence, And sober Axioms of Philosophie, But now's no time for schoole points difference, When Deaths blacke Ensigne threatens miserie; Yet for thy words sound of such consequence.

Making flight praise, and fight pale obloquie, Once ere I die, Ile clense my wits from rust, And proue my flying base, my stay most iust.

Whence shall I flie? from refuge of my fame, From whom? euen from my Countreis mortall foe, Whither? but to the dungeon of my shame, Why shall I flie? for feare of happie woe, What end of flight? to saue vile life by blame, Who ist that flies? _Grinuile_? Captayne no, T'is _England_ flies, faire Ile of happines, And true diuine _Elizas_ holynes.

Shall then my life regard taynt that choice faire?

First will I perrish in this liquid round, Neuer shall Sunne-burnt _Spanyards_ tongue endeare _Iberian_ eares with what shall me confound, The life I haue, I for my Mistris beare, Curst were that life, should it her scepter wound, And trebble cursed be that d.a.m.ned thought, Which in my minde hath any fayntnes wrought.

Now, for Philosophie defends thy theame, Euen selfe Philosophie shall arme my stile, Rich buskin'd _Seneca_, that did declaime, And first in _Rome_ our tragicke pompe compile, Saith, _Fort.i.tude_ is that which in extreme And certaine hazard all base feares exile: It guides, saith he, the n.o.ble minde from farre, Through frost, and fier, to conquer honors warre.

Honie-tongd _Tullie_, Mermaid of our eares, Affirmes no force, can force true _Fort.i.tude_, It with our bodies, no communion beares, The soule and spyrit, sole doth it include; It is that part of honestie which reares The hart to heauen, and euer doth obtrude Faint feare, and doubt, still taking his delight In perrills, which exceed all perrills might.

_Patience, Perseuerance, Greatnes_, and _Strong Trust_, These pages are to _Fort.i.tude_ their King, _Patience_ that suffers, and esteemeth iust, What euer woe, for vertue fortunes bring; _Perseuerance_, holds constant what we must, _Greatnes_, that still effects the greatest thing.

And armed _Trust_, which neuer can dispaire, But hopes good hap; how euer fatall deare.

The Roman _Sergius_, hauing lost his hand, Slew with one hand foure in a single fight, A thing all reason euer did with-stand.

But that bright _Fort.i.tude_ spred forth her light _Pompey_, by storme held from _th' Italyan_ land, And all his sailors quaking in his sight, First hoisted saile, and cry'd amidst the strife, There's neede I goe, no neede to saue my life.

_Agis_ that guilt the _Lacedemon_ streete, Intending one day battaile with his foes, By counsaile was repeld, as thing vnmeete, The enemie beeing ten to one in shoes; But he reply'd, Tis needful that his feete Which many leads, should leade to many bloes: And one being good, an Armie is for ten Foes to religion, and known naughty men.

To him that told _Dienecus_, his foes Couer'd the Sun with darts and armed speares, Hee made reply, Thy newes is ioy in woes, Wee'le in the shadow fight, and conquer feares.

And from the _Polands_ words my humor floes, I care for naught but falling of the Spheares.

Thunder affrights the Infants in the schooles, And threatnings are the conquerors of fooles.

As these, my case is not so desperate, And yet, then these, my darre shall be no lesse: If this in them, for fame was wondred at, Then this in mee, shall my desiers expresse; Neuer shall _Greece_, nor _Rome_, nor Heathen state, With s.h.i.+ning honor, _Albions_ s.h.i.+ne depresse, Though their great circuits yeelds their acts large bounds, Yet shall they neuer darr for deeper wounds.

And thus resolu'd, deere _Midelton_ depart, Seeke for thy safetie in some better soyle, Thy stay will be no succour in my smart, Thy losse will make them boast of better spoyle.

And be a.s.sur'd before my last breath part, Ile make the Sunne, for pittie backe recoyle.

And clothe the sea within a scarlet pale, Iudge of their death which shall my life exhale.

This s.h.i.+p which now intombs my iealous soule, Honestlie enuious of aspiring laude, Is cald _Reuenge_, the scourge which doth controule, The recreants that _Errors_ right applaud, Shall like her selfe, by name and fame enroule My spyrits acts, by no _Misfortune_ aw'd, Within eternall Bookes of happie deeds, Vpon whose notes, immortall Vertue reeds,

Say, if I perish, t'was mine honours will, My Countries loue, religion, and my Queene, And if that enuie glorie in mine ill, Say that I dyed, conqu'ring, vnconquered seene.

Say fiftie three strong shyps could not fulfill, Gainst one poore mayden vessell their foule teene, But that in spight of death, or miserie, She fought, and foyled, and scapt captiuitie.

Replie not _Midelton_, mine eares are clos'd, Hie in heauen's for-head are my vowes ingrau'd, I see the banefull Nauie nowt disclosed, Begon betime, Fate hath thy fortune sau'd; To me good starres were neuer yet opposed, Glorie hath crownd me when I glorie crau'd, Farwel, and say how euer be my chaunce, My death at honours wedding learnt to daunce.

This sayd, away sailes Midelton with speede, Sad, heauie, dull, and most disconsolate, Shedding stout manlie teares at valures deed, Greeuing the ruine of so great estate; But _Grinuile_, whose hope euer did exceede, Making all death in daungers fortunate, Gan to prouide to quell this great vprore, Then which the like was neuer heard before.

His fights set vp; and all things fit prepard, Low on the ballast did he couch his sick, Being fourscoore ten, in Deaths pale mantle snar'd,[4]

Whose want to war did most their strong harts p.r.i.c.k.

The hundred, whose more sounder breaths declard, Their soules to enter Deaths gates should not stick, Hee with diuine words of immortall glorie, Makes them the wondred actors of this storie.

Nothing he left vnsaid that tongue could say, To breede contempt of death, or hate of thrall, Honours reward, fame for a famous day, Wonder of eares, that men halfe G.o.ds shall call: And contrarie, a hopelesse certaine way, Into a Tyrants d.a.m.ned fists to fall, Where all defame, base thoughts, and infamie, Shall crowne with shame their heads eternally.

In this great thunder of his valiant speech, From whence the eares-eyes honors lightning felt, The _Spanish_ Nauie came within the reach Of Cannon shot, which equallie was delt On eyther side, each other to impeach; Whose volleys made the pittying skyes to melt, Yet with their noyse, in _Grinuiles_ heart did frame, Greater desier, to conquer greater fame.

And now the sunne was past his middle way, Leaning more louely to his Lemans bed, And the noones third hower had attacht the day, When fiftie three gainst one were basely led; All harts were fierd; and now the deadlie fray, Began tumultuouslie to ouer-spread.

The sea with fier, the Element with smoake Which G.o.ds, and monsters from their sleep awoake.

In foure great battailes marcht the _Spanish_ hoast, The first of _Siuill_, led in two great squares, Both which with courage, more then can be most, Sir _Richard_ forst to giue him way with cares; And as the Sea-men terme it in our coast, They sprang their luffe, and vnder lee declares, Their manie forces feebled by this one, Whose thoughts, saue him, are rightly due to none.

And now he stands amidst the thickest throngs, Walld round with wooden Castels on the waue, Fiftie three Tygers greedie in their wrongs, Besiedge the princelie Lion in his caue: Nothing sees _Grinuile_ which to hope belongs, All things are fled that any hap could saue; Bright day is darkned by incurtaind night, And nothing visits them but Canons light.

Then vp to heauen he lifts his loftie hart, And cryes, old _Salon_, I am happy made.

All earthlie thoughts cleane from his spirits part, _Vertue_ and _Valure_ all his sences lade, His foes too fewe, too strong he holds his part, Now doth he wish for millions to inuade, For beeing conqueror he would conquer all, Or conquered, with immortall honour fall.

Neuer fell hayle thicker then bullets flew, Neuer show'rd drops faster than showring blowes, Liu'd all the _Woorthees_, all yet neuer knew So great resolue in so great certaine woes; Had _Fame_ told _Caesar_ what of this was true, His Senate-murdred spirite would haue rose, And with faire honors enuie wondred then, Cursing mortalitie in mightie men.

Whilst thus affliction turmoyld in this brall, And _Grinuile_ still imployed his Actor death, The great _San-philip_, which all _Spayne_ did call Th' vnuanquisht s.h.i.+p, _Iberias_ soule and faith, Whose mountaine hugenes more was tearmed then tall, Being twice a thousand tuns as rumour saith, Came rus.h.i.+ng in, becalming _Grinuiles_ sailes, Whose courage grew, the more his fortunes failes.

Hotlie on eyther side was lightning sent, And steeled thunder bolts dinge men to h.e.l.l, Vnweldie _Phillip_, backt with millions lent, Worse cracks of thunder then on _Phaeton_ fell, That with the dayes fier fiered the Element; And why? because within her ribs did dwell, More store of shot and great artillarie, Then might haue seru'd the worlds great victorie.

Three tire of Cannon lodg'd on eyther side, And in each tire, eleuen stronglie lay, Eyght in her chase, that shot forth right did bide, And in her sterne, twice eight that howerlie play; Shee lesse great shot, in infinets did hide, All which were Agents for a dismall day.

But poore _Reuenge_, lesse rich, and not so great, Aunswered her cuffe for cuffe, and threat for threat.

Anon they graple eyther to the other, And doth the ban-dogge with the Martins skinne; And then the wombe of _Phillip_ did vncouer, Eight hundred Souldiers, which the fight beginne: These board Sir _Richard_, and with thronging smother The daye, the ayre, the time, and neuer linne, But by their entrance did instruct eight more, To doe the like, on each side foure and foure.

Thus in one moment was our Knight a.s.saild, With one huge _Argosie_, and eight great s.h.i.+ps, But all in vaine, their powers naught prevaild, For the _Reuenge_, her Canon loud-dogs slips, Whose bruzing teeth, so much the _Phillip_ quaild, That foundring in the greedie maine, he dips His d.a.m.ned bodie in his watrie tombe, Wrapt with dishonour in the Oceans wombe.

The other eight, fighting, were likewise foild, And driuen perforce vnto a vile retraite, None durst abide, but all with shame recoild, Whilst _Valures_ selfe, set _Grinuile_ in her seate; Onely _Don Luis Saint Iohn_, seeing spoild, His Countries honour by this strange defaite, Single encountred _Grinuile_ in the fight, Who quicklie sent his soule to endlesse night.

_George de Prunaria_, a Spanish Knight, Euer held valiant in dispight of fate, Seconded _Luis_, and with mortall might, Writ on Sir _Richards_ target souldiers hate, Till _Grinuile_ wakned with his loud rung fight, Dispatcht his soules course vnto _Plutos_ gate: And after these two, sent in post all those Which came within his mercie or his blowes.

By this, the sunne had spread his golden locks, Vpon the pale green carpet of the sea, And opned wide the scarlet dore which locks The easefull euening from the labouring day; Now Night began to leape from iron Rocks, And whip her rustie wagon through the way, Whilst all the _Spanish_ host stoode maz'd in sight, None darring to a.s.sayle a second fight.

When _Don Alfonso_, Generall of the warre, Saw all his Nauie with one s.h.i.+p controld, He toare his hayre, and loudlie cryd from farre, For honour _Spanyards_, and for shame be bold; Awaken Vertue, say her slumbers marre _Iberias_ auncient valure, and infold Her wondred puissance, and her glorious deeds, In cowards habit, and ign.o.ble weeds.

Fie, that the spyrit of a single man, Should contradict innumerable wills, Fie, that infinitiues of forces can, Nor may effect what one conceit fulfills; Woe to the wombe, ceaselesse the teats I ban, That cherrisht life, which all our liues ioyes kills; Woe to our selues, our fortunes, and our minds, Agast and scarrd, with whistling of the winds.

See how he triumphes in dispight of death, _Promethean_ like, laden with liuing fier, And in his glorie spits disdainfull breath, Loathing the baseness of our backe retire; Euen now me thinke in our disgrace he saith, Foes to your fames, why make you Fate a lyer, When heauen and she haue giuen into your hand, What all the world can neuer back demand?

Say that the G.o.d of _Warre_; Father of Chiualrie, The _Worthies_, _Heroes_, all fam'd Conquerours, _Centaurs_, _Gyants_, victorious _Victorie_, Were all this _Grinuils_ hart-sworne paramours.

Yet should we fightlesse let our shyps force flie: Well might we crush his keele with rocklike powers, And him with them ore-whelme into the maine, Courage then harts, fetch honour backe againe.

Heere shame, the fretting canker of the mind, That fiers the face with fuell from the hart, Fearing his weapons weakenes, eft a.s.signed To desperate hardines his confounding dart, And now the _Spanyards_ made through words stone blind, Desperate by shame, ashamd dispaire should part, Like d.a.m.ned scritchowles, chimes to dead mens hours, Make vowes to fight, till fight all liues deuours.

And now the tragicke sceane of death begins, Acts of the night, deeds of the ouglie darke, When Furies brands gaue light to furious sins, And gastlie silence gaping wounds did marke; Sing sadlie then my Muse (teares pittie wins) Yet mount thy wings beyond the mornings Larke, And wanting thunder, with thy lightnings might, Split cares that heares the dole of this sad night.

The fier of _Spaynes_ pride, quencht by _Grinuils_ sword, _Alfonso_ rekindles with his tong, And sets a batelesse edge, ground by his word Vpon their blunt harts feebled by the strong, Loe animated now, they all accord, To die, or ende deaths conflict held so long; And thus resolud, too greedelie a.s.say His death, like hounds that hold the Hart at bay.

Blacker then night, more terrible then h.e.l.l, Louder then thunder, sharper then _Phoebus_ steele, Vnder whose wounds the ouglie _Python_ fell, Were bullets mantles, clowding the haplesse keele, The slaughtered cryes, the words the cannons tell, And those which make euen rocky Mountaines reele, And thicker then in sunne are Atomies, Flew bullets, fier, and slaughtered dead mens cries.