“Perfumes and grapes,” said the queen. “Raleigh, my man, that is a good beginning. Send your skippers away, and tell me what is your request, for I know you have one. When will you ever cease begging, Walter?”
“When you cease to be so kind a benefactress,” was the courtier’s shrewd and graceful reply.
The skippers were sent away, and the queen said:—
“Now tell me about this land of grapes. Fruit and perfumes are well enough, but they do little to fill an empty treasury. What else lies within your patent?”
“There are beasts of all kinds that roam the forests, there are birds and fish, there are the highest and reddest cedars of the world, coral of red and white, pearls, fruits, vegetables, natives that are gentle and kindly and void of all guile and treason.”
“What do you call this paradise of yours?”
“The natives call it Wingina.”
“I’ll give you a better name. It was visited while a virgin queen was on the throne, so call it Virginia, and I’ll be its godmother.”
“O, Madam,” said Raleigh with enthusiasm, “never had a sovereign such a chance to add to the glory of her renown. America is not only a country in which one may make a fortune, it is a fortune in itself. Why should it not become a second home of the English nation?”
The queen’s eyes kindled. “How could that be?” she asked.