and had
recognized its force and its prospects. One of those solemn moments had
just passed when men see before them the course of the world turned one
way, when it might have been turned another. All the world had been
looking out to see what would come to pass; and nowhere more eagerly
than in Ireland. Every one, English and Irish alike, stood agaze to "see
how the game would be played." The great fleet, as it drew near, "worked
wonderfully uncertain yet calm humours in the people, not daring to
disclose their real intention." When all was decided, and the distressed
ships were cast away on the western coast, the Irish showed as much zeal
as the English in fulfilling the orders of the Irish council, to
"apprehend and execute all Spaniards found there of what quality
soever." These were the impressions under which the two men met. Ralegh,
at the moment, was under a cloud. In the poetical fancy picture set
before us--

His song was all a lamentable lay
Of great unkindnesse, and of usage hard,
Of Cynthia the Ladie of the Sea,
Which from her presence faultlesse him debard.
And ever and anon, with singults rife,
He cryed out, to make his undersong;
Ah! my loves queene, and goddesse of my life,
Who shall me pittie, when thou doest me wrong?

At Kilcolman, Ralegh became acquainted with what Spenser had done of the
_Faery Queen_. His rapid and clear judgment showed him how immeasurably
it rose above all that had yet been produced under the name of poetry in
England. That alone is sufficient to account for his eager desire that
it should be known in England. But Ralegh always had an eye to his own
affairs, marred as they so often were by ill-fortune and his own
mistakes; and he may have thought of making his peace with Cynthia, by
reintroducing at Court the friend of Philip Sidney, now ripened into a
poet not unworthy of Gloriana's greatness. This is Colin Clout's
account:--

When thus our pipes we both had wearied well,
(Quoth he) and each an end of singing made,
He gan to cast great lyking to my lore,
And great dislyking to my lucklesse lot,
That banisht had my selfe, like wight forlore,
Into that waste, where I was quite forgot.
The which to leave, thenceforth he counseld mee,
Unmeet for man, in whom was ought regardfull,
And wend with him, his Cynthia to see:
Whose grace was great, and bounty most rewardfull;
Besides her