Give that greeting from me."

Back to Madrid went that Spanish Ambassador,

Broken and bruised like a bull-beaten matador,

And he bowed very low

(It was etiquette so)

And he cried, "Oh, that Queen is the devil in sooth.

A fool, Sire, 'twas thought, for she danced so uncouth!

But her bargains are hard as her heart and her hand,

As her dreary dominions, her men and her land!

And never be gulled by her feminine vanity,

'Tis only a pose, all her vacant inanity!

Let us man an armada to crush her and raid her,

To send her to hell to the demons who made her!"

[Pg 54]

And they came, as you know:

Heavy ships big and slow

In a lumbering way, in a blundering way

In that Tudor day.

Proudly up channel their galleons swept,

Swiftly our pinnaces hustled and leapt

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