JOHN LOTHROP MOTLEY I 95 



Lepanto (1571) ^^> ^^i' ^=^ 

 (From The Rise of the Dutch Republic) 



OIX hundred vessels of war met face to face. 

 Rarely in history had so gorgeous a scene of 

 martial array been witnessed. An October sun 

 gilded the thousand beauties of an Ionian land- 

 scape. Athens and Curinlh were l:)ehind the com- 

 batants, the mountains of Alexandei-'s Macedon 

 rose in the distance ; the rock of Sappho and the 

 heights of Actium were before their eyes. Since 

 the day when the world had been lost and won 

 beneath that famous promontory, no such combat 

 as the one now approaching had been fought upon 

 the waves. The chivalrous young commander 

 despatched energetic messages to his fellow chief- 

 tains, and now that it was no longer possible to 

 elude the encounter, the martial ardor of the allies 

 was kindled. The Venetian High-Admiral replied 

 with words of enthusiasm. Colonna, lieutenant of 

 the league, answered his chief in the language of 

 Saint Peter: "Though I die, yet will I not deny 

 thee." 



The fleet was arranged in three divisions. The 

 Ottomans, not drawn up in crescent form, as usual, 

 had the same triple dis|)osition. llarl)arigo and 

 the other Venetians commanded on the left, J<;hn 



