They were both Devonshire men, like Raleigh.
'Twas ever the way with good Queen Bess, Who ruled as well as a mortal can, When she was stogged, and the country in a mess, To send for a Devonshire man.
Spain paid heavily for the persecution of British sailors.

In his fifth lecture, Parties in the State, Froude read with dramatic emphasis, and in a singularly impressive manner, the application of a seaman to Elizabeth for leave to attack Philip's men-of-war off the banks of Newfoundland.

"Give me five vessels, and I will go out and sink them all, and the galleons shall rot in Cadiz Harbour for want of hands to sail them.

But decide, Madam, and decide quickly.
Time flies, and will not return.

The wings of man's life are plumed with the feathers of death." When he uttered these tragic words, Froude paused, and looked up, and it seemed to those who heard him as if he felt that the time of his own departure was at hand.
Elizabeth herself was never moved by sentiment, and final vengeance on Spain had to wait for the Armada, with which these lectures, like the History, conclude.