There were dances
and songs--a sailor's contra-dance to the music of a horn pipe, a
stately passamezzo by the Indian court, a madrigal and an ode in
compliment to the Queen.[3] Finally the leader of the white men planted
the banner of England on the little knoll, and in the name of his
sovereign received the homage of the Indians. The last notes of the
final chorus had just died away when trumpets called from the Thames,
and the scene melted into chaos. Off ran the players, cramming costumes
and properties into their wallets as they went, to see the Queen land at
the water-gate. Amadas and Barlowe took the same direction less
hurriedly.
"I wonder now," said Armadas thoughtfully, "how much of prophecy there
may have been in that mascarado? Do you know, old lad, we may be taken
for gods ourselves in two months' time? God grant they think us not
devils before we are done!"
"We need have no fear if no Spaniards have landed on that coast before
us," said Barlowe stolidly. "If they have--no poetical speeches will
help our cause."
The Queen's great gilded barge with its crimson hangings came sweeping
up the river just as they joined the company drawn up to receive her.
The tall graceful figure of Ralegh was nearest her, and when she set
her small neat foot upon the stone step it was his hand which she
accepted to steady her in landing.
Pages:
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293