The shores are crown'd with people (of a fire
To be Spectators onely of the show):
The Scarlet Coates flame with the dye of Tyre:
The glossie Silks with all May's flow'rs do blow.
Instead of Arrows (part of Warr's Attire)
And of the horn'd Moon-imitating Bow,
Palm in their hands, in sign of Peace, they bear:
Which on their Heads victorious Heroes wear.

In a Canoe (which was both long and broad,
And glissend in the Sun with Cov'rings, made
Of mixed Silks) Melinde's King is row'd,
Wayted by Princes 'mongst their own obay'd.
In rich Attire (according to the mode
And custom of that Land) he comes arayd.
Upon his Head he weares a Terbant, roll'd,
Of silk and Cotton, with a Crown of gold.

A Roabe, of Scarlet-damask, (high-extold
By Them, and worth the wearing of a King)
About his Neck a Collar of pure gold:
The work worth twice the substance of the Thing.
A Velvet sheath a dagger keen did hold,
With Diamond-hilt, hang'd by a golden string.
Sandals of Velvet on his Feet he wore,
With gold and pearl imbroydred richly o're.

O're Him a round Silk-Canopy he had
Advanc't aloft upon a gilded Pole;
With which a Boy behind to burn forbad
Or trouble the Great King, the beams of Sol.
Musick ith'Prow, so merry that 'twas mad,
Grating the Eare with a harsh noise. The whole
Consort is onely crooked Horns, wreath'd round,
Which keep no time, but make a dismal sound.

No less adorn'd, the Lusitanian
From the Armada in his Boats doth dance,
To meet Him of Melinde with a Train
Whom much their cloaths, but more their deeds advance:
Gama comes clad after the use of Spain,
But wears a Cassock ala mode de France:
The Stuff, a Florence-Satin; and the dye,
A perfect Crimson, glorious in their Eye.

The Sleeves have golden Loops, which the Sun-shine
Makes too too bright and slippry for the Eyes:
His close Camp-Trowzes lac't with the same myne,
Which Fortune to so many men denyes:
Poynts likewise of the same, and Tagging fine,
With which his Doublet to his Hose he tyes.
A Sword of massive Gold, in Hanger tyde:
A Cap and Plume; the Cap set at one side.

Mong'st his Camrades, the noble Tyrian dye
(Not liv'ry-wise, but) sparcled here, and there,
The sev'ral Colours recreate the Eye:
So do the diff'rent Fashions which they weare.
Such their inamel'd Cloathes Varietie
(Compriz'd in one survey) as doth appear
The painted Bow, in water-colours laid,
Of Juno's Minion, the Thaumantian Mayd.

The ratling Trumpets, now, their joy augment
As, other times, they had their courage done.
The Moorish Boats cover'd the Sea, and went
Sweeping the Water with their silks Anon.
The Clowds of Heav'n the thund'ring Cannon rent,
And with new Clowds of Smoak put out the Sun.
Before the Blow the winged lightning flies:
The Moors's hands stop their Eares, the lids their Eyes.