y was organized on a plan complete enough; but on one which
was, as the event proved, utterly fatal to their prowess and unanimity,
and which made even their courage and honor useless against the assaults
of free men. "They do, in their armadas at sea, divide themselves into
three bodies; to wit, soldiers, mariners, and gunners. The soldiers and
officers watch and ward as if on shore; and this is the only duty they
undergo, except cleaning their arms, wherein they are not over curious.
The gunners are exempted from all labor and care, except about the
artillery; and these are either Almaines, Flemings, or strangers; for
the Spaniards are but indifferently practised in this art. The mariners
are but as slaves to the rest, to moil and to toil day and night; and
those but few and bad, and not suffered to sleep or harbor under the
decks. For in fair or foul weather, in storms, sun, or rain, they must
pass void of covert or succor."

This is the account of one who was long prisoner on board their ships;
let it explain itself, while I return to my tale. For the great ship is
now within two musket-shots of the Rose, with the golden flag of Spain
floating at her poop; and her trumpets are shouting defiance up the
breeze, from a dozen brazen throats, which two or three answer lustily
from the Rose, from whose poop flies the flag of England, and from her
fore the arms of Leigh and Cary side by side, and over them the ship and
bridge of the good town of Bideford. And then Amyas calls:

"Now, silence trumpets, waits, play up! 'Fortune my foe!' and God and
the Queen be with us!"

Whereon (laugh not, reader, for it was the fashion of those musical
as well as valiant days) up rose that noble old favorite of good Queen
Bess, from cornet and sackbut, fife and drum; while Parson Jack, who had
taken his stand with the musicians on the poop, worked away lustily at
his violin, and like Volker of the Nibelungen Lied.

"Well played, Jack; thy elbow flies like a lamb's tail," said Amyas,
forcing a jest.

"It shall fly to a better fiddle-bow presently, sir, an I have the
luck--"

"Steady, helm!" said Amyas. "What is he after now?"

The Spaniard, who had been coming upon them right down the wind under a
press of sail, took in his light canvas.

"He don't know what to make of our waiting for him so bold," said the
helmsman.

"He does though, and means to fight us," cried another. "See, he is
hauling up the foot of his mainsail, but he