COBHAM. You see by what I have said, I did not wait for any hints. Don Francisco Diaz, lying there beside my lugger, carries as freight about half a million a Genoese loan to Philip, for which the Duke of Alva hangs fire, his army being in mutiny for their arrears of pay. The Duke promised Philip, that he could make the war self-supporting. He has failed entirely. The Flemings are too much for him in that, they carry off their valuables. He gains battles but there is no plunder! (_He turns his eye to the Spanish ship and raising his finger addresses her_). Don Francisco Diaz! Thou shalt not deliver thy precious freight at Antwerp! (_Cheers in the offing_).
KILLIGREW, (_laying his hand on_ COBHAM’S _shoulder_,) Hush! What’s all that? Something of importance. (_They all look_.)
HAWKINS. What can be up? They are crowding to the beach, and the piers. The cruisers too, they are firing salutes in the offing and showing their bunting. What can it mean? Surely that was a cheer, rolling down upon the wind. Let us go and see, besides, there are queer rumours I should like you to hear whispered about the disaster of our friends, said to come from the Spaniards in the harbour. (_A cheer in the offing_).
COBHAM. That is an undoubled cheer in the offing. There is something ill the wind, go a-head. (_Exeunt_).
_The pier_, _crowd of sailors_, _and citizens running as if for some strange news_, _or standing in groups conjecturing_.
_Enter_ W. HAWKINS, SIR H. KILLIGREW, _and_ SIR E. HORSEY.
HAWKINS. Let us get among the sailors and hear what they think, their instinct for the real is marvellous, as their far-sightedness at sea. Here’s a group of the right sort for us! _Pointing to some powerful men of haughty bearing and daring expression_, _dressed in a superior style_, _flaunting gold chains and massive jewellery_, _with Indian silk handkerchiefs carelessly worn_, _and other marks of wealth obstentiously displayed_. _They seem not only to stand aloof by themselves but to shoulder their way without considering much whether or not_, _they give offence_. _As_ HAWKINS _and his companions make their way into the group one of them salutes with an air of recognition_.
SAILOR. Good day, Captain! If there were Spaniards here, I would say to them “War hawks, make all sail!” (_Looking with a knowing wink at his companions_).