Doughty then rose to his feet, drank his last bumper, thanked
Drake graciously for former kindness, walked calmly out to the old
scaffold, laid his head on the block, and suffered death. Horror fell
on the crew. Even Drake was shaken from his wonted calm; for he sat
apart, his velvet cloak thrown back, slapping his crossed knees, and
railing at the defenders of the dead man.[4] To rouse the men, he had
solemn service held for the crew, and for the first time revealed to
them his project for the voyage on the Pacific. After painting the
glories of a campaign against Spanish ports of the South Seas, he wound
up an inspiriting address with the rousing assurance that after this
voyage, "_the worst boy aboard would never nede to goe agayne to sea,
but be able to lyve in England like a right good gentleman_."
Fletcher, the chaplain, who secretly advocated the dead man's cause,
was tied to a mast pole in bilboes, with the inscription hung to his
neck--"_Falsest knave that liveth_."
On August 17 they departed from "the port {150} accursed," for the
Straits of Magellan, that were to lead to Spanish wealth on the
Pacific.
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