Act 5 — Scene VIII.—TERRACE OF GREENWICH PALACE.
Reading edition
Decorated with masts, bearing various devices, illustrative of England’s heroes and their victories, and surmounted with the National flag. The river is crowded with shipping, having all their bunting and streamers abroad, in honour of the great event. Their decks and rigging filled with gaily dressed spectators. All London is there. It is known, that the Queen has resolved to honour with her presence at dinner, the little ship that has fought its way round the world, and the heroes who manned it. Deck of the Golden Hind covered with an awning, extended with canvas on to the land in a semi-circular form; open in front and supported by pillars—the whole highly ornamented and painted with scenic effect, to represent the great occasions of England’s triumph by sea and land. A dinner-table spread with gold and silver plate, with various jewelled articles in those metals—trophies brought from the Indies—and piled with rare tropical fruits and productions, since become familiar although then extraordinary. A flag in the centre, by order of the Queen, bearing the arms of Drake and the mottoes “Divino auxilio” above and “Sic parvis magna” below. The table is occupied by distinguished nobles, knights, and great officers—amongst them, conspicuous, Howard of Effingham, Lord High Admiral; Leicester; Raleigh; Hatton, and others, principally those most against Spain, if not actually in the interest of the Freebooters, who fearlessly kept the Channel and guarded the coast, and who had maintained the right of Queen Elizabeth, even when her sister was on the throne. On the left, the Queen on a raised platform, with the great ladies of her court, seated at a table. Sailors with a profusion of gold chains, jewels and foreign ornaments standing about. Yet showing their deference to their sovereign, as well as their high discipline. Great cheering. Curtain rises, Drake comes forward with a large gold richly jewelled goblet filled with wine, which he presents to the Queen kneeling.
Queen. Rise, Mr. Drake. What would you say?
Drake. On behalf of the crew of the “Golden Hind,” I would beg your Majesty’s acceptance of this cup, which is probably the most valuable ever designed for human lips—meet only for the Monarch, whose wisdom and genius have made her country respected and feared by the nations of the earth. The goblet and the wine are the lawful prize of the valour of your men—taken on the great Pacific, whose waters quailed beneath the thunder of your guns. Both have made the circuit of the globe, and thus been guided by Providence to the lips of His most favoured Queen.
Queen (bowing to the men). I accept your precious gift, with thanks.
Drake. My Liege! I have another favour to ask—leave to propose a toast?
Queen. You shall be king, sir, on your own deck, where you have so ably commanded—proceed!
Drake (turning to the company whilst his cup-bearer hands him a golden goblet) Ladies! Lords! Noble Englishmen, and you, brothers in arms, who in this little bark have never struck your flag to a foe, but have carried it at your main, through storm and battle, round the globe, fill your cups and stand. (They fill their cups and stand, a little excited). You have this day received an honour, which is a reward for all your difficulties and dangers. Your Queen acknowledges our services, and condescends to be our guest. This is no common event in the lives of men. It is an era in the history of the world, which will be read, whilst one page of the great volume lasts (sensation). We have amongst us, the chosen of Providence, who has covered herself and her country, with a glory which shall endure, till time shall be no more; the elected head of the new tower rising from the sea to rule the world—to send forth from England the law of commerce and civilisation. (He turns to the Queen). “For the abundance of the sea shall be converted to you.” (Turning to the company). Hers is not the sceptre of an Attila or a more cruel Philip, by the swords of armed men, steeped in the blood and tears of prostrate humanity. The Trident of the Ocean is the wand of peace, which shall wave over freedom, prosperity, and law. (Sensation). The fortune of our great race may be chequered, but it shall never wane, till it has pushed its nations to the everlasting hills. (Turning and extending his hand towards the Queen). Behold the fountain, the well-head of our progress. When tyranny shall oppress, and prosperity waver, England will look back with hope to her maiden Queen. When her armies conquer, and her navies triumph, when her flag o’er sea and land shall sway the mighty and the free. England will turn with pride to the origin of her power—The reign of her maiden Queen. When the traitor in the council, or the coward in the field, shall betray his country, his honour, his faith, his God, England will fling aside the infamy and take courage from her maiden Queen. When her empire shall gird the globe, with arts, science, commerce, and peace—When the elements themselves shall obey her, and flash from land to land, from sea to sea, her mandates of liberty and law, England will look to her maiden Queen as the starting point of it all. (He looks around, and raising his goblet pronounces the toast).—The Queen! God bless her!
All. The Queen, God bless her. Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah.
Tremendous cheering, taken up by the men on the river, and on the land. The sailors on the Golden Hind in great commotion and enthusiasm endeavour to rush forward to the Queen—The officers’ exert themselves to restrain them. Howard, Leicester, and the great men gather round Drake, who is much affected. The Queen is overcome with emotion! Lord Hunsdon, great chamberlain, who is standing beside her, comes forward.
Lord Hunsdon. Silence, and order! It is Her Majesty’s command that her poet shall commemorate the occasion? (The poet comes forward with a paper. Cheers!)
Several Voices. The Corsairs, song! The Corsairs, song.
SONG OF THE CORSAIRS.
Oh! We’re the boys of thunder! The Rovers of the main; We’ll strike with awe and wonder The pride of tyrant Spain: Her giant ships are lumber, Their aim is slavery— We count not size or number— We’ll drive thorn from the sea!
Chorus.—Her Tars will fight for England, Till Death or Victory! Nor French, nor Spaniard, here shall land! Hurrah! Brave boys, Hurrah!
Proud Spain shall know we are the men Who boldly board the foe; Who burn or plunder all we can, And others sink below. We are to storm and battle bred, Our Island, as of yore, The home where Freedom lifts her head; And rules from shore to shore! Chorus.
Each Saxon and each Dane sire A sea-king was of old— They left to us, their race, the fire Of soul, which made them bold; Their Empire was the deep sea— It is our heritage, Where we’ll neither yield nor flee! We’ll tame the tyrant’s rage! Chorus.
Spain’s cruel Inquisition burns Our brethren whom they take, But, the tide of death now turns The bark of gallant Drake, For vengeance launched a rich town, Shall give to spoil and flame, Nay more, a Spanish crew drown For every martyr’s name. Chorus.
Proudest Admirals shall quail Before thy genius, Drake, And their lofty galleons sail As captives in thy wake; Gold and gems, for Idols meant, In heaps thy bark shall load— And be to England’s Queen sent, Price of her seamen’s blood. Chorus.
Drake! heroic name of fear! With England’s flag unfurled, Startled every Spaniard’s ear, As first he round the world; His bold untrodden course stood, Eternal fame to build, And his country, great and good, With joy and wealth he filled! Chorus.
On wild Panama he stood, And from its palm-clad height, Gazed on broad Pacific’s flood, So calm in golden light— Thence his fancy strayed abroad, Dreaming of wonders there, Then he turned his thoughts to God And poured his soul in prayer. Chorus
Be mine, Lord, the favoured keel To cross that unknown waste; And that, through my country’s weal, Benighted man be blessed: Not with gold alone for freight— Nor yet to fight for fame; To belt the globe with holy light, The Glory of Thy Name! Chorus.
My ship with the glittering ore Carries more precious load, The Bible, which ne’er before Hath journeyed o’er that flood: Let me, in Thy Name, first bear The message of Thy Peace, “Woe! down-trodden dry thy tear, Thy rod oppression cease.” Chorus.
England is the Bible’s land, The Guardian of The Word! True to trust she safe shall stand— More safe than by the Sword! By Thee elected let her fill Her mission o’er the wave, Just and faithful! Be it still, The lost to seek and save. Chorus.
Oh! Freedom’s is the Ocean! Our Island is its Queen! The billows pay devotion, Around her robed in green: No Despot shall his flag wave Upon its chainless roll! Ocean loves the Free and Brave! ’Tis Ours from Pole to Pole! Chorus.
The chorus is taken up by all present, especially the sailors. At the conclusion of the song, much excitement and enthusiasm with confusion among the sailors, subdued with difficulty by the officers—The Queen rises.
Queen (with much emotion). Brave men! My heart is too full for speech—But even did my feelings permit, what words could measure the daring of your souls, or the greatness of your achievements. You have filled the world with wonder, like the Demigods of fable. Your country and eternal fame can alone requite you—You have my heart, my love! I thank you, and drink to all your healths. (Great cheering, the Queen comes forward. Efforts are made by Drake and the leading men to restore order.)
Drake (going among the sailors). The Queen, men! The Queen, men, silence in the ship. (Order is restored).
Queen. I have now another duty to perform, which though done to one will through him extend to all. Francis Drake, Come forward. (Drake advances). Your sword, sir! (He presents his sword, of enormous value, ornamented with gold and precious stones. The Queen gazes on it with wonder). (Aside) Spanish! Like everything around, it speaks of triumph. This little deck exhales an influence, ’tis holy ground to me. An atmosphere of conquest breathes around me—I feel the power (flourishing the sword). Kneel sir. Francis Drake; you have accomplished deeds of deathless renown, which have thrown over your country a halo of glory and power. You have taught her foes to dread her, your country; that her valour can achieve the conquest of the world: and that the trident of the ocean of right belongs to England. (She strikes him with the sword). Rise, Sir Francis Drake, pursue the path of Knighthood and virtue, till you reach the destined goal of your own and England’s greatness. (She extends her hand to him to kiss, Garter King-at-Arms comes forward and presents a large Escutcheon with a ship on the globe emblazoned on it. Lord Howard of Effingham, Leicester, Raleigh, and others press round to congratulate him, amid the cheers of the sailors).