The fire-ships had been more effective than they could have
dared to hope. The enemy was broken up. The Duke was shorn of half his
strength, and the Lord had delivered him into their hand. He had got
under way, still signalling wildly, and uncertain in which direction to
turn. His uncertainties were ended for him by seeing Drake bearing down
upon him with the whole English fleet, save those which were loitering
about the galleass. The English had now the advantage of numbers. The
superiority of their guns he knew already, and their greater speed
allowed him no hope to escape a battle. Forty ships alone were left to
him to defend the banner of the crusade and the honour of Castile; but
those forty were the largest and the most powerfully armed and manned
that he had, and on board them were Oquendo, De Leyva, Recalde, and
Bretandona, the best officers in the Spanish navy next to the lost Don
Pedro.
It was now or never for England. The scene of the action which was to
decide the future of Europe was between Calais and Dunkirk, a few miles
off shore, and within sight of Parma's camp. There was no more
manoeuvring for the weather-gage, no more fighting at long range.
Drake dashed straight upon his prey as the falcon stoops upon its
quarry.
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