With his proud troopes, three thousand men well neere,
Promis’d rich pay in ransacke of our summes,
Who now aboord with trumpets and with drummes,
Vrg’d by the hastie queene to launch the deepe
With winde-wing’d sailes the seas soft bosome sweepe.
99.
O let the windes their forward course restraine,
Wing not such mischiefe to our natiue shore,
Let the proud billowes beate them backe againe:
Or if they needs must come, let the seas rore,