Then with disorder euery one did cut Their blacke 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 bosomes breed, While on the waues the burning ships bright light, Did make a sun-shine in the midst of night. 245. Who being disperst amongst their nauie 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 nauie did maintaine, Discharging all their thundring shot together Vpon th’Iberian foes with winde and weather. 246. 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, Vpon the darkesome waues did scattered flie; In which disturbance driuen with winde and weather, Spaine’s chiefe galiasse fell foule vpon another. 247. Which all vnable to escape with flight, The startled fleet did leaue 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 Spaine’s great galliasse did spie, Which cast vpon a sandie shoale did lie. 248. 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 vsing their readie hand, Gainst whoso assault at first th’Iberian foes, With proud resistance did themselues oppose. 249. For _Hugo de Moncada_, valiant man With noble courage did the fight maintaine, Till through his wounded forehead’s hardned pan, A fatall shot with bullets deadly bane, Made open passage to the liuely braine, Who being slaine, to shun the slaughtering sword, Most of the residue leapt ouer bord. 250. Thus great king _Philip’s_ mountaine-like galliasse, In which three hundred slaues 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. 251.