In a collection of epitaphs printed in Colonia in 1623 (and edited by one Franciscus Swertius) is one in Spanish by an anonymous author on Don John of Austria.  In this, which takes the form of question and answer, it is asked of him “who with so much real glory lies so humbly ’neath this stone,” what it is that Spain can do for him, what temple or what statue can she raise to his honour.  To this the hero is made to reply that “My temple is found in my works, my statue has been my fame.”  This is not only a pretty conceit, but it is very substantially true when we think of the place in history which this man attained.

It remains to speak of the future career of Ali Basha after his experiences at Lepanto.  He now returned to Constantinople, where he found that the bitter complaints of the Janissaries concerning their lack of pay had preceded him; this must have been annoying, as by this time so insignificant a circumstance had probably escaped his memory.  His old friend and patron Piali Basha was still in power; the Basha used his influence, and the corsair laid at the feet of the Sultan the great Standard of Saint John captured by him from the Knights—­which was the only trophy which came to Constantinople from that disastrous battle; and in consequence we are told that “instead of reprimands he was loaded with caresses and applauses.”

There was in Ali the same dauntless quality of never knowing when he was beaten which had distinguished Kheyr-ed-Din Barbarossa.  His exploits at Lepanto had secured him the high favour of the Sultan, which he used in a manner most grateful to that sovereign by approaching him with a request that he might be allowed to fit out another fleet to revenge himself on the Christians.  The Sultan acceded to his request, and such diligence did he use that in June 1572, only eight months after the crushing defeat of the Turks, Ali took the sea with two hundred and fifty galleys besides smaller vessels.  So powerful had he now become that Selim nominated him as his Admiralissimo, allowing him also to retain the Bashalic of Algiers.  With his new fleet he sought out the allies once more, finding them at anchor in a port in the Morea.  He lay outside the harbour defying them to come out, which they refused to do—­“but they parted without bloody noses”—­is Morgan’s comment.  Haedo attributes this inertia on the part of the allies to dissension among their leaders; but, however that may have been, Ali gained almost as much favour with the Sultan as if he had defeated them in a pitched battle.  “But these are the judgments of God and things ordered by His divine providence and infinite wisdom,” says Haedo.  The connection is somewhat hard to establish.