Her words were unyielding, her purse it was mean—

The Spanish Ambassador

Writhed like a matador![Pg 53]

[Pg 53]

Beaten and wounded, he played to her vanity.

—It was tucked out of sight—and with Spanish profanity

He cursed all the Protestants under his breath,

And committed them gently to burnings and death;

But never an inch did Elizabeth yield,

And the messenger saw that his mission was sealed,

In that far-off day.

And Elizabeth laughed

In a curious way

That was subtle with craft:

"Under favour, you may

Tell your master in Spain, that my country comes first.

I am England, and English, its best and its worst.

Tell him my subjects I love as my children,

Tell him they thirst but their mouths will be filled when

They meet him at sea.

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