That you are by the Spaniards, Oh Netherlands of mine, Harmed and injured, just to think, It makes my poor heart bleed. Even mortally wounded beggars who could no longer sing sat up on the ground, washed over by these harmonious and solemn sounds, and moved their lips in time with the words of the song. Myga van Bergen too was recalled by them to life and she sang, laughing and crying, held in Jan's arms, the same song of freedom. "Look, Myga, how I keep my word--I'm taking you home with the sounds of cannon fire and jubilant bells and a flourish of trumpets in my ear! Saved! Saved from a fate worse than death!" Jan Norris was ecstatic. From the citadel there came the noise of one alarm signal after another. More and more drums sprang into life along the city's walls and enclosures to call as many people as possible to the quayside. And the movements of the great Flanders town became noisier too and many an oppressed and angry heart beat faster at the proud, forbidden sounds that rose in response to the Spanish drumbeats and that grew more insistent as the latter strove to drown them out. Alarm bells rang from every steeple. And now there was a commotion in the town and another commotion emanating out from the citadel towards the quayside. Troops moved along the city walls. Troops pushed down to the river. But louder than anything there arose above the tumult: My hope and my protection Are you, oh God, my Lord. On you I want to build more. Never let me go. That I may nurture piety And serve you all the while By driving out all tyrants Who wound my loving heart. Thousands of such hearts heard behind the walls that Paciotti had built around the town of Antwerp these strains with delight. Thousands of eyes became moist on hearing their message. Now there could be no doubt of it. The black galley had performed its finest feat of arms and all that there was left to do now was to bring its prize to a place of safety. Under covering fire from the black galley Jan Norris, now captain on board the Andrea Doria, reached the middle of the Scheldt and gradually sailed downstream. Seven smaller vessels taken as prizes sailed along with the beggars' ships--the black galley brought up the rear. There was much shooting and firing from the walls of Antwerp and a return of fire from the beggars' ships and the Andrea Doria was now sailing downstream under the beggars' colours, its sails joyously expanded by the morning wind. Don Federigo Spinola was tearing his hair out at such an unheard of thing! There was passing fire from all the earthworks and forts along the river. Fortune smiled on the beggars! What affair was it of theirs if the Spaniards aimed well or badly? The wounded below deck, the dead overboard, the black galley's cannons were in action once again before Fort Felipe. Boom, boom. Kruisschanze on the Brabant side of the river.