When Cutino, the Hulks great Admirall,
Saw that huge Vessel drencht within the surge,
Enuie and shame tyered vpon his gall,
And for reuenge a thousand meanes doth vrge;
But Grinuile, perfect in destructions fall,
His mischiefes with like miseries doth scourge,
And renting with a shot his wooden tower,
Made Neptunes liquid armes his all deuouer.
These two ore-whelm'd, Siuills Ascension came,
A famous ship, well man'd and strongly drest,
Vindicta from her Cannons mouthes doth flame,
And more then any, our dread Knight oppresst:
Much hurt shee did, many shee wounded lame,
And Valurs selfe, her valiant acts confest.
Yet in the end, (for warre of none takes keepe)
Grinuile sunck her within the watry deepe.
An other great Armado, brusd and beat,
Sunck neere S. Michaels road, with thought to scape,
And one that by her men more choicely set,
Beeing craz'd and widow'd of her comly shape,
Ran gainst the shore, to pay Ill-chaunce her debt,
Who desolate for desolations gape:
Yet these confounded, were not mist at all.
For new supplies made new the aged brall.
This while on Grinuile ceazed no amaze.
No wonder, dread, nor base astonishment,
But true resolue, and valurs sacred blaze,
The crowne of heauen, and starrie ornament
Deck't his diuine part, and from thence did raze
Affects of earth, or earth's intendiment.
And in this broyle, as cheerefull was his fight,
As Ioues, embracing Danae by night.
Looke how a wanton Bridegroome in the morne,
Busilie labours to make glad the day,
And at the noone, with wings of courage borne,
Recourts his bride with dauncing and with play,
Vntil the night which holds meane bliss in scorne,
By action kills imaginations sway,
And then, euen then, gluts and confounds his thought,
With all the sweets, conceit or Nature wrought,
Euen so our Knight the bridegroome vnto Fame,
Toild in his battailes morning with vnrest,
At noone triumph'd and daunst, and made his game,
That vertue by no death could be deprest;
But when the night of his loues longings came,
Euen then his intellectuall soule confest
All other ioyes imaginarie were
Honour vnconquerd, heauen and earth held deare.
The bellowing shotte which wakened dead mens swounds,
As Dorian musick, sweetned his cares,
Ryuers of blood, issuing from fountaine wounds,
Hee pytties, but augments not with his teares,
The flaming fier which mercilesse abounds,
Hee not so much as masking torches feares,
The dolefull Eccho of the soules halfe dying,
Quicken his courage in their banefull crying.
When foule Misfortune houering on a Rock,
(The stonie girdle of the Florean Ile,)
Had seene this conflict, and the fearfull shock,
Which all the Spanish mischiefes did compile,
And saw how conquest licklie was to mock
The hope of Spayne, and fauster her exile,
Immortall shee, came downe herselfe to fight,
And doe what else no mortall creature might.
And as she flew the midnights waking starre,
Sad Cassiopea with a heauie cheare,
Pusht forth her forehead, to make known from farre,
What time the dryrie dole of earth drew neare,
But when shee saw Misfortune arm'd in warre,
With teares she blinds her eyes, and clouds the ayre,
And asks the Gods, why Fortune fights with man?
They say, to doe, what else no creature can.
O why should such immortall enuie dwell,
In the enclosures of eternall mould?
Let Gods with Gods, and men with men retell,
Vnequall warres t'vnequall shame is sould;
But for this damned deede came shee from hell,
And Ioue is sworne, to doe what dest'nie would,
Weepe then my pen, the tell-tale of our woe,
And curse the fount from whence our sorrows flow.