"And she's playing hard to get, hard to get with you, every woman's pin-up in the strada Balbi and in all the other streets, sidestreets and alleyways of our dear home town of Genoa. By the goddess of Paphos that calls for punishment, the most severe punishment. Oh that beautiful barbarian! I stand ready to serve you, Antonio Valani, my friend and superior, with sword, heart and head. What can we do to win you the heart of that sweet child?"
The rest of the conversation between the captain and his bosun was lost in and interrupted by the shouts of the night watch in the direction of the gangplank. A whirl of drums resounded from the quayside, torches flickered and weapons glinted. Admiral Federigo Spinola had come to see how things were aboard the Andrea Doria and on the other ships of his fleet lying at anchor under the walls of Antwerp. He was in the foulest of moods as Leone and Antonio could not help but notice when they hurried to welcome him on board. The admiral stamped about most grimly surrounded by his captains who had gathered around him on the main deck of the Andrea Doria. The unfortunate skirmish of the previous night lay heavy on his heart. If things were going to continue in this vein, his business interests were not worth the parchment contract they were written on, countersigned with the Yo el Rey of King Philip the Third of Spain.
"To sea with you!" cried Admiral Spinola as he raged at his captains. "Put out to sea and capture that accursed black galley. String up the whole of its crew from its own yardarms and the devil take their souls. Tomorrow at daybreak I want the four galleys that are lying here at anchor to weigh anchor. Do you hear me, gentlemen? The Andrea Doria will stay here and await further orders. But the galleys will make sail tomorrow good and early. The message has already been given to the ships' captains at Sluys to put out to sea with every ship available. The black galley—bring me the black galley or bring me back Satan himself."
At this the admiral stamped off, swallowing the rest of his harangue, and the captains looked at one another wryly and then turned their gaze to the admiral:
"Diavolo, Spanish sound and fury!"
"A task that's easier said than done!"
"Well, what do you think, gentlemen?"
"The black galley, eh?"
"Did you hang your cook yesterday, Francesco?"
"Yes, it's a pity!"