In clouds of smoake the grudging soules did flie
Of slaughtred bodies, that did floting lie
About the ocean, seeking for their tombes
In hollow rockes and monsters hungrie wombes.
230.
This happened in the third conflict before the Ile of Wight. It was fired by a shot.
And in the fight, t’increase the foe-men’s harmes,
A ruddie flame from th’English fleet did flie,
Which swiftly seased in his spoilefull armes
The stout viceadmirall of th’enemie,