"Blow, jolly breeze," cried one, "and lay the Don over all thou
canst.--What the murrain is gone, aloft there?"
Alas! a crack, a flap, a rattle; and blank dismay! An unlucky shot had
cut the foremast (already wounded) in two, and all forward was a mass
of dangling wreck.
"Forward, and cut away the wreck!" said Amyas, unmoved. "Small arm
men, be ready. He will be aboard of us in five minutes!"
It was true. The _Rose_, unmanageable from the loss of her head-sail,
lay at the mercy of the Spaniard; and the archers and musqueteers had
hardly time to range themselves to leeward, when the _Madre Dolorosa's_
chains were grinding against the _Rose's_, and grapples tossed on board
from stem to stern.
"Don't cut them loose!" roared Amyas. "Let them stay and see the fun!
Now, dogs of Devon, show your teeth, and hurrah for God and the Queen!"
And then began a fight most fierce and fell: the Spaniards, according
to their fashion, attempted to board: the English, amid fierce shouts
of "God and the Queen!" "God and St. George for England!" sweeping
them back by showers of arrows and musquet balls, thrusting them down
with pikes, hurling grenades and stink-pots from the tops; while the
swivels on both sides poured their grape, and bar, and chain, and the
great main-deck guns, thundering muzzle to muzzle, made both ships
quiver and recoil, as they smashed the round shot through and through
each other.
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