Queen (laughing). Oh! Capital indeed, I shall take the loan; Ha! Ha! Ha!
Leicester (laughing.) Loan! it will be along one, I fancy, but Hatton says it is no one’s property.
Queen. Hatton says! Hatton’s opinion! You know he’s my sheep, I’ll show you the value of his bleating, for I’ll take care to prove that it is my property, and mine it shall remain. I sent Captain Holstook out with a squadron immediately, before they should have time for precautions, and he was not long in finding quarry. He has already, in addition to odd Spanish prizes of considerable value, secured two fleets of Flemish merchantmen, one now in Harwich and the other in the Thames.
Killigrew. And there is not a day that the privateers don’t bring a rich prize or two into Dover, Plymouth, or Southampton. Not to speak of the wine brigs, on the sly, discharged along the coast. When all is counted up, Philip will find his murderous attack on Hawkins and the illegal seizure of our traders’ capital, guaranteed by treaty, a losing game.
Queen. I have just arranged for my morning ride, and the French Ambassador is to accompany me. I am curious to ascertain the effect of these measures of retaliation in that quarter. I have my reasons for it. Besides, I wish them to see what they are to expect should they dare to trespass on my realm. (Exeunt.)
Scene IV.—A ROOM IN THE PALACE.
Enter Queen and Cecil.
Queen (proudly). It is their born faith—the creed they’ll fight for—that the ocean, all that floats upon its waves or lives in its waters, of right belongs to England. This is the creed of every Englishman, born within the inspiring influence of the four seas. With this spirit-stirring notion they must conquer Cecil. It will be all up with England’s power when shallow pated politicians and place-hunting doctrine-mongers teach them other ways, and curb with their enactments and official rules the daring spirit of our seamen.
Cecil. A notion involving war. To foster it is to play a part I dare not.
Queen. Play a part. I have been a player all my life. The world my theatre. The poor hireling acts upon the stage for pay, perhaps for fame. My wages were my life, and England’s power and glory. I’ll play my part until the end.