Act 1 — Scene II.—“THE BLUE ANCHOR”—THE TAP ROOM.

Ornamented with model ships of every form and rig; all of a warlike character. Here and there are hung up arms, chiefly those used at sea, with Parrots and curious birds, shells and other productions of foreign climes, all indicating that the owner and his friends are familiar with distant lands, in fact, all maritime contributions. The room is filled with sailors and their women, profusely decorated with gold, reckless of expenditure, playing at dice for gold pieces, and displaying masses of gold and silver articles, chalices and cups, the fruit of plunder by land and sea. Their bold dashing air shows a character not likely to hesitate about what they would attack, and themselves ready to take their own part, or that of England, against the world. They call for wines of the most expensive sorts like men habituated to wealth. The two spies at a table, served with a flagon of wine and cups of silver, by the landlord. The foreigner is much surprised at the scene.

1st Sailor. Mine Host there! Some Hippocras for the ladies! and—and—more Gascony!

2nd Sailor (saucily). Bear a hand, Joe Jolly! or Jolly Joe! another measure of that old Sack. You’re an old sack yourself. Ho! here he comes, rolling like a dismasted ship in the trough of the sea (laughter). Ha! Ha! Ha!

Enter Host, scowling fiercely and holding out in his right hand menacingly a great tankard of Wine.

Host. I say, Cut-throat! Belay your damned tongue! Don’t you think to make a butt of me for your gibes, or I’ll give you this (holding out the tankard) on your head!

The sailor laughs and holds out by the muzzle his heavy pistol as if to show its weight.

2nd Sailor. If you did, Joe, I would, and that quickly too, make a butt of yours. Look you! Butt to Butt. This has cracked many a skull as thick as Joe Jolly’s.

All (interfering). Avast there! Enough of that messmates! Here, Jolly, drink with me! Here, Joe (says another party), drink with us! Hurrah! old chap!

English Spy (to his companion). I made our appointment here, Brother, to give you an idea of what is going on in the world—a mighty revolution—which I think neither His Majesty of Spain nor His Holiness yet comprehends, and to show you the character of our people. You will thus understand with whom you have to deal.

Foreign Spy. They surprise and almost frighten me with their fierce demeanour and warlike defiant air.

English Spy. Of that anon. Now, Brother what of the Great Cause in the Low Countries? There the struggle is at present.

Foreign Spy, (Slowly and with emphasis), And there, brother, it is almost ended. William the silent is silent for ever! (The English spy starts with surprise). That Arch-Heretic, the Prince of Orange, is no more!

English Spy. What? The Prince of Orange dead!

Foreign Spy, (With bitter emphasis), Three poisoned bullets did for him, spite of all his caution! Parma outmanœuvred him. Philip is at the right game of war now!

English Spy, (Interested to excitement), How? How was this, brother? It will be a thunder clap to Europe!

Foreign Spy. It was difficult; William was so closely guarded; so many attempts had failed. He seemed unapproachable. We found the fitting tool! (He pauses, watching his startled companion with exultation, then continues). Balthazzar Gerard, an enthusiast from Burgundy. We fanned the Bigot-flame, and armed his fiery soul with all the panoply of Faith the church could give, a Martyr’s Crown! Immediate bliss in Heaven. Philip added earthly honours, nobility and estates in Spain. Balthazzar swallowed the baited hook, and counted not the cost! (He pauses, looking at his deeply interested and astounded companion.)

English Spy, (Eagerly), Pray go on, Brother! He was seized of course! how did he proceed, or obtain access?

Foreign Spy. He repaired to the palace at Delft, petitioned for protection and aid, he pretended to be a Calvinist whose father was executed, and himself a fugitive for his religion. The mask was sufficient, he obtained employment, and was at length received into the palace. There he watched his opportunity, and as the Prince was passing through his hall to dinner fired into him three poisoned bullets. The victim dropped, “William the Silent” was no more.

English Spy, (with emotion), Villain! He was cut down, or seized, tortured, hung!

Foreign Spy. Quick as his bullets he bounded from the hall, crossed the court-yard, and gained the city wall, where aid was ready.

English Spy, (Hurriedly), Good God! The perfidious traitor escaped.

Foreign Spy. There, just as the tiger was about to spring, a strong hand arrested him. His Spanish title, his broad lands, his order of St. Jago vanished, and the dread spectre of rack and dungeon rose before his eyes, but Balthazzar was a hero and accepted death. They dragged him to the rack, ’twas vain! They tried every torture ingenuity could invent, or the wickedness of Heretics employ to tear from this soldier of the church a confession of his employees. Balthazzar fixed his eye upon his Martyr’s crown, and pointing to his dislocated limbs, with grim but triumphant smile, heaved his last breath, said “Ecce Homo,” and expired.

English Spy, (Shocked and excited), Oh! Brother, this is horrible!

Foreign Spy, (Rather Surprised), But the end, Brother, justifies the means. You see the good cause advances! ’Tis Philip’s most successful warfare; thus Murray in Scotland, Coligny at Paris, and now the Prince of Orange at Delft have paid the penalty of heresy. These were only the horns Brother, the head itself shall be cut off. In England is the very head of Heresy! She must fall next, and then the Church’s triumph is complete. Philip himself, great as he is, must bow as kings of yore, and hold the stirrup.

English Spy, (Aside), This will do for Walsingham, he’ll trap the wolves! (To his companion), We’ll talk of this anon, Brother.

Cheers and shouts without, tumult, rushing, and cheers. Shouts of “To the Market-place.” The cheers taken up by the sailors within, who brandish their gold goblets and shout, “Hurrah for old Plymouth,” “Hurrah for the Craft!”

1st Sailor. What’s up messmates?

2nd Sailor. Some Spanish prize, I’ll warrant; It’s no mere row that, I know the heavy tread of a Rover’s crew. That’s the game for me. Let’s out and join the fray. (Exeunt sailors, rushing in confusion).

English Spy, (hurriedly), Come! Brother come, there is much that you must see here before you make up your horoscope of the future. (Exeunt spies).