DRAKE (_interrupting with comical seriousness_) I mean the Spanish man-of-war, with Flemish prisoners, who came for shelter into Plymouth Harbour. You fired upon her with the Castillian flag at her main; made her haul down her colours, and deliver up her prisoners, which you sent home to fight against Spain. You remember the stir Philip made about it, and when the Queen sent you an angry message (Lord, she never meant it—a mere blind) you audaciously told her that you deserved her thanks for maintaining the honour of the country (_laughter_). You know we sailed under the protest of De Silva and have carried on our trade by force of arms. BOLTON. We could not venture to sea without repairs. We want at least a week. HAMPTON. Oh! we could soon victual—seize the ships, levy contributions, put the town to ransom, and make sail. HAWKINS. But then, you see the Treaty. What would the Council say? What would Cecil say? He is against us as it is. Besides, the legitimate trade we are carrying on—a million! in a single voyage. This in my opinion is better than booty and open war. DRAKE. Treaty!—Peace!—Legitimate trade!—Hawkins don’t deceive yourself; bits of paper cannot disguise the virulent hostility subsisting between Spain and England. The legitimate trade we are carrying on in ships armed to the teeth! It is nothing but open war—a defiance of Philip and his power. Talk of the Council being against us, and what Cecil may say. (_Contemptuously_). Cecil! who can see no other way to keep up our Navy than an Act of Parliament to compel the Protestant People of England to eat fish. Ha! Ha! Ha! (_laughter in which the crews join_. _With emphasis_). Bluff King Hal and his Parliament, thought Beef at a farthing a pound was the right way to keep up the stout hearts and strong arms of Englishmen, who themselves have ever been the true and only defence of their Country and Freedom. (_He walks aside indignant_. _Laughter_—_caught up and echoed back with tremendous cheers by the sailors around and below decks_). Whenever Britons, in sloth and ignorance shall delegate their duty to a Council, or a Government, they will forfeit their high Destiny—their Commission from on High!—Their safety and their Liberties will sink together in the dust of Rottenness, and the proud Island of the Brave and Free, remain only a bleak, deserted, and ruined rock amid the breakers, a monument of the past; a warning to the future, like Tyre and Carthage, and Great Rome herself. England can only fall through treason and corruption. (_Cheers from the sailors and shouts_). SAILORS. May God defend us from that. We can defend us from our enemies ourselves, Hurrah! HAWKINS. The Jesus is a wreck, can scarcely float, her mainmast sprung—she could not go to sea.