The Lusiad - LightNovelsOnl.com
You're reading novel online at LightNovelsOnl.com. Please use the follow button to get notifications about your favorite novels and its latest chapters so you can come back anytime and won't miss anything.
Now, thro' the wave they cut their foamy way, Their cheerful songs resounding through the bay: And now, on sh.o.r.e the wond'ring natives greet, And fondly hail the strangers from the fleet.
The prince their gifts with friendly vows receives, And joyful welcome to the Lusians gives; Where'er they pa.s.s, the joyful tumult bends, And through the town the glad applause attends.
But he whose cheeks with youth immortal shone, The G.o.d whose wondrous birth two mothers[118] own, Whose rage had still the wand'ring fleet annoy'd, Now in the town his guileful rage employ'd.
A Christian priest he seem'd; a sumptuous[119] shrine He rear'd, and tended with the rites divine: O'er the fair altar wav'd the cross on high, Upheld by angels leaning from the sky; Descending o'er the Virgin's sacred head So white, so pure, the Holy Spirit spread The dove-like pictur'd wings, so pure, so white; And, hov'ring o'er the chosen twelve, alight The tongues of hallow'd fire. Amaz'd, oppress'd, With sacred awe their troubled looks confess'd The inspiring G.o.dhead, and the prophet's glow, Which gave each language from their lips to flow Where[120] thus the guileful Power his magic wrought DE GAMA'S heralds by the guides are brought: On bended knees low to the earth they fall, And to the Lord of heaven in transport call, While the feign'd priest awakes the censer's fire, And clouds of incense round the shrine aspire.
With cheerful welcome, here caress'd, they stay Till bright Aurora, messenger of day, Walk'd forth; and now the sun's resplendent rays, Yet half emerging o'er the waters, blaze, When to the fleet the Moorish oars again Dash the curl'd waves, and waft the guileful train: The lofty decks they mount. With joy elate, Their friendly welcome at the palace-gate, The king's sincerity, the people's care, And treasures of the coast the spies declare: Nor pa.s.s'd untold what most their joys inspir'd, What most to hear the valiant chief desir'd, That their glad eyes had seen the rites divine, Their[121] country's wors.h.i.+p, and the sacred shrine.
The pleasing tale the joyful GAMA hears; Dark fraud no more his gen'rous bosom fears: As friends sincere, himself sincere, he gives The hand of welcome, and the Moor's receives.
And now, as conscious of the destin'd prey, The faithless race, with smiles and gestures gay, Their skiffs forsaking, GAMA'S s.h.i.+ps ascend, And deep to strike the treach'rous blow attend.
On sh.o.r.e the truthless monarch arms his bands, And for the fleet's approach impatient stands; That, soon as anchor'd in the port they rode Brave GAMA'S decks might reek with Lusian blood: Thus weening to revenge Mozambique's fate, And give full surfeit to the Moorish hate; And now their bowsprits bending to the bay The joyful crew the pond'rous anchors weigh, Their shouts the while resounding. To the gale With eager hands they spread the foremast sail.
But LOVE'S fair queen[122] the secret fraud beheld: Swift as an arrow o'er the battle-field, From heav'n she darted to the wat'ry plain, And call'd the sea-born nymphs, a lovely train, From Nereus sprung; the ready nymphs obey, Proud of her kindred birth,[123] and own her sway.
She tells what ruin threats her fav'rite race; Unwonted ardour glows on every face; With keen rapidity they bound away; Dash'd by their silver limbs, the billows grey Foam round: Fair Doto, fir'd with rage divine, Darts through the wave; and onward o'er the brine The lovely Nyse and Nerine[124] spring With all the vehemence and speed of wing.
The curving billows to their b.r.e.a.s.t.s divide And give a yielding pa.s.sage through the tide.
With furious speed the G.o.ddess rush'd before, Her beauteous form a joyful Triton bore, Whose eager face with glowing rapture fir'd, Betray'd the pride which such a task inspir'd.
And now arriv'd, where to the whistling wind The warlike navy's bending masts reclin'd, As through the billows rush'd the speedy prows, The nymphs dividing, each her station chose.
Against the leader's prow, her lovely breast With more than mortal force the G.o.ddess press'd; The s.h.i.+p recoiling trembles on the tide, The nymphs, in help, pour round on every side, From the dread bar the threaten'd keels to save; The s.h.i.+p bounds up, half lifted from the wave, And, trembling, hovers o'er the wat'ry grave.
As when alarm'd, to save the h.o.a.rded grain, The care-earn'd store for winter's dreary reign, So toil, so tug, so pant, the lab'ring emmet train,[125]
So toil'd the nymphs, and strain'd their panting force To turn[126] the navy from its fatal course: Back, back the s.h.i.+p recedes; in vain the crew With shouts on shouts their various toils renew; In vain each nerve, each nautic art they strain, And the rough wind distends the sail in vain: Enraged, the sailors see their labours cross'd; From side to side the reeling helm is toss'd: High on the p.o.o.p the skilful master stands; Sudden he shrieks aloud, and spreads his hands.
A lurking rock its dreadful rifts betrays, And right before the prow its ridge displays; Loud shrieks of horror from the yard-arms rise, And a dire general yell invades the skies.
The Moors start, fear-struck, at the horrid sound, As if the rage of combat roar'd around.
Pale are their lips, each look in wild amaze The horror of detected guilt betrays.
Pierc'd by the glance of GAMA'S awful eyes The conscious pilot quits the helm and flies, From the high deck he plunges in the brine; His mates their safety to the waves consign; Dash'd by their plunging falls on every side Foams and boils up around the rolling tide.
Thus[127] the hoa.r.s.e tenants of the sylvan lake, A Lycian race of old, to flight betake, At ev'ry sound they dread Latona's hate, And doubled vengeance of their former fate; All sudden plunging leave the margin green, And but their heads above the pool are seen.
So plung'd the Moors, when, horrid to behold!
From the bar'd rock's dread jaws the billows roll'd, Opening in instant fate the fleet to whelm, When ready VASCO caught the stagg'ring helm: Swift as his lofty voice resounds aloud, The pond'rous anchors dash the whit'ning flood, And round his vessel, nodding o'er the tide, His other s.h.i.+ps, bound by their anchors, ride.
And now revolving in his piercing thought These various scenes with hidden import fraught: The boastful pilot's self-accusing flight, The former treason of the Moorish spite; How headlong to the rock the furious wind, The boiling current, and their art combin'd; Yet, though the groaning blast the canvas swell'd, Some wondrous cause, unknown, their speed withheld: Amaz'd, with hands high rais'd, and sparkling eyes, "A[128] miracle!" the raptur'd GAMA cries, "A miracle! O hail, thou sacred sign, Thou pledge ill.u.s.trious of the care divine!
Ah! fraudful malice! how shall wisdom's care Escape the poison of thy gilded snare?
The front of honesty, the saintly show, The smile of friends.h.i.+p, and the holy vow All, all conjoin'd our easy faith to gain, To whelm us, s.h.i.+pwreck'd, in the ruthless main; But where our prudence no deceit could spy, There, heavenly Guardian, there thy watchful eye Beheld our danger: still, oh still prevent, Where human foresight fails, the dire intent, The lurking treason of the smiling foe; And let our toils, our days of length'ning woe, Our weary wand'rings end. If still for thee, To spread thy rites, our toils and vows agree, On India's strand thy sacred shrines to rear, Oh let some friendly land of rest appear: If for thine honour we these toils have dar'd, These toils let India's long-sought sh.o.r.e reward."
So spoke the chief: the pious accents move The gentle bosom of celestial Love: The beauteous Queen[129] to heaven now darts away; In vain the weeping nymphs implore her stay: Behind her now the morning star she leaves, And the[130] sixth heaven her lovely form receives.
Her radiant eyes such living splendours cast, The sparkling stars were brighten'd as she pa.s.s'd; The frozen pole with sudden streamlets flow'd, And, as the burning zone, with fervour glow'd.
And now confess'd before the throne of Jove, In all her charms appears the Queen of Love: Flush'd by the ardour of her rapid flight Through fields of aether and the realms of light, Bright as the blushes of the roseate morn, New blooming tints her glowing cheeks adorn; And all that pride of beauteous grace she wore, As[131] when in Ida's bower she stood of yore, When every charm and every hope of joy Enraptur'd and allur'd the Trojan boy.
Ah![132] had that hunter, whose unhappy fate The human visage lost by Dian's hate, Had he beheld this fairer G.o.ddess move Not hounds had slain him, but the fires of love.
Adown her neck, more white than virgin snow, Of softest hue the golden tresses flow; Her heaving b.r.e.a.s.t.s of purer, softer white Than snow hills glist'ning in the moon's pale light, Except where cover'd by the sash, were bare, And[133] Love, unseen, smil'd soft, and panted there: Nor less the zone the G.o.d's fond zeal employs, The zone awakes the flames of secret joys.
As ivy-tendrils round her limbs divine Their spreading arms the young desires entwine: Below her waist, and quiv'ring on the gale, Of thinnest texture flows the silken veil: (Ah! where the lucid curtain dimly shows, With doubled fires the roving fancy glows!) The hand of modesty the foldings threw, Nor all conceal'd, nor all was given to view; Yet her deep grief her lovely face betrays, Though on her cheek the soft smile falt'ring plays.
All heaven was mov'd--as when some damsel coy, Hurt by the rudeness of the am'rous boy, Offended chides and smiles; with angry mien Thus mixt with smiles, advanc'd the plaintive queen; And[134] thus: "O Thunderer! O potent Sire!
Shall I in vain thy kind regard require?
Alas! and cherish still the fond deceit, That yet on me thy kindest smiles await.
Ah heaven! and must that valour which I love Awake the vengeance and the rage of Jove?
Yet mov'd with pity for my fav'rite race I speak, though frowning on thine awful face, I mark the tenor of the dread decree, That to thy wrath consigns my sons and me.
Yes! let stern Bacchus bless thy partial care, His be the triumph, and be mine despair.
The bold advent'rous sons of Tago's clime I loved--alas! that love is now their crime: O happy they, and prosp'rous gales their fate, Had I pursued them with relentless hate!
Yes! let my woeful sighs in vain implore, Yes! let them perish on some barb'rous sh.o.r.e, For I have lov'd them." Here the swelling sigh And pearly tear-drop rus.h.i.+ng in her eye, As morning dew hangs trembling on the rose, Though fond to speak, her further speech oppose-- Her lips, then moving, as the pause of woe Were now to give the voice of grief to flow; When kindled by those charms, whose woes might move And melt the prowling tiger's rage to love.
The thundering-G.o.d her weeping sorrows eyed, And sudden threw his awful state aside: With[135] that mild look which stills the driving storm, When black roll'd clouds the face of heaven deform; With that mild visage and benignant mien Which to the sky restores the blue serene, Her snowy neck and glowing cheek he press'd, And wip'd her tears, and clasp'd her to his breast; Yet she, still sighing, dropp'd the trickling tear, As the chid nursling, mov'd with pride and fear, Still sighs and moans, though fondled and caress'd; Till thus great Jove the Fates' decrees confess'd: "O thou, my daughter, still belov'd as fair, Vain are thy fears, thy heroes claim my care: No power of G.o.ds could e'er my heart incline, Like one fond smile, one powerful tear of thine.
Wide o'er the eastern sh.o.r.es shalt thou behold Thy flags far streaming, and thy thunders roll'd; Where n.o.bler triumphs shall thy nation crown, Than those of Roman or of Greek renown.
"If by mine aid the sapient Greek[136] could brave Th' Ogygian seas, nor sink a deathless slave;[137]
If through th' Illyrian shelves Antenor bore, Till safe he landed on Timavus' sh.o.r.e; If, by his fate, the pious Trojan[138] led, Safe through Charybdis'[139] barking whirlpools sped: Shall thy bold heroes, by my care disclaim'd, Be left to perish, who, to worlds unnam'd By vaunting Rome, pursue their dauntless way?
No--soon shalt thou with ravish'd eyes survey, From stream to stream their lofty cities spread, And their proud turrets rear the warlike head: The stern-brow'd Turk shall bend the suppliant knee, And Indian monarchs, now secure and free, Beneath thy potent monarch's yoke shall bend, And thy just laws wide o'er the East extend.
Thy chief, who now in error's circling maze, For India's sh.o.r.e through shelves and tempests strays; That chief shalt thou behold, with lordly pride, O'er Neptune's trembling realm triumphant ride.
O wondrous fate! when not a breathing[140] gale Shall curl the billows, or distend the sail, The waves shall boil and tremble, aw'd with dread, And own the terror o'er their empire spread.
That hostile coast, with various streams supplied, Whose treach'rous sons the fountain's gifts denied; That coast shalt thou behold his port supply, Where oft thy weary fleets in rest shall lie.
Each sh.o.r.e which weav'd for him the snares of death, To him these sh.o.r.es shall pledge their offer'd faith; To him their haughty lords shall lowly bend, And yield him tribute for the name of friend.
The Red-sea wave shall darken in the shade Of thy broad sails, in frequent pomp display'd; Thine eyes shall see the golden Ormuz'[141] sh.o.r.e, Twice thine, twice conquer'd, while the furious Moor, Amaz'd, shall view his arrows backward[142] driven, Shower'd on his legions by the hand of Heaven.
Though twice a.s.sail'd by many a vengeful band, Unconquer'd still shall Dio's ramparts stand, Such prowess there shall raise the Lusian name That Mars shall tremble for his blighted fame; There shall the Moors, blaspheming, sink in death, And curse their Prophet with their parting breath.
"Where Goa's warlike ramparts frown on high, Pleas'd shalt thou see thy Lusian banners fly; The pagan tribes in chains shall crowd her gate, While the sublime shall tower in regal state, The fatal scourge, the dread of all who dare Against thy sons to plan the future war.
Though few thy troops who Conanour sustain, The foe, though num'rous, shall a.s.sault in vain.
Great Calicut,[143] for potent hosts renown'd, By Lisbon's sons a.s.sail'd shall strew the ground: What floods on floods of vengeful hosts shall wage On Cochin's walls their swift-repeated rage; In vain: a Lusian hero shall oppose His dauntless bosom and disperse the foes, As high-swelled waves, that thunder'd to the shock, Disperse in feeble streamlets from the rock.
When[144] black'ning broad and far o'er Actium's tide Augustus' fleets the slave of love[145] defied, When that fallen warrior to the combat led The bravest troops in Bactrian Scythia bred, With Asian legions, and, his shameful bane, The Egyptian queen, attendant in the train; Though Mars rag'd high, and all his fury pour'd, Till with the storm the boiling surges roar'd, Yet shall thine eyes more dreadful scenes behold, On burning surges burning surges roll'd, The sheets of fire far billowing o'er the brine, While I my thunder to thy sons resign.
Thus many a sea shall blaze, and many a sh.o.r.e Resound the horror of the combat's roar, While thy bold prows triumphant ride along By trembling China to the isles unsung By ancient bard, by ancient chief unknown, Till Ocean's utmost sh.o.r.e thy bondage own.
"Thus from the Ganges to the Gadian[146] strand, From the most northern wave to southmost land: That land decreed to bear the injur'd name Of Magalhaens, the Lusian pride and shame;[147]
From all that vast, though crown'd with heroes old, Who with the G.o.ds were demi-G.o.ds enroll'd: From all that vast no equal heroes s.h.i.+ne To match in arms, O lovely daughter, thine."
So spake the awful ruler of the skies, And Maia's[148] son swift at his mandate flies: His charge, from treason and Momba.s.sa's[149] king The weary fleet in friendly port to bring, And, while in sleep the brave DE GAMA lay, To warn, and fair the sh.o.r.e of rest display.
Fleet through the yielding air Cyllenius[150] glides, As to the light the nimble air divides.
The mystic helmet[151] on his head he wore, And in his hand the fatal rod[152] he bore; That rod of power[153] to wake the silent dead, Or o'er the lids of care soft slumbers shed.
And now, attended by the herald Fame, To fair Melinda's gate, conceal'd, he came; And soon loud rumour echo'd through the town, How from the western world, from waves unknown, A n.o.ble band had reach'd the aethiop sh.o.r.e, Through seas and dangers never dar'd before: The G.o.dlike, dread attempt their wonder fires, Their gen'rous wonder fond regard inspires, And all the city glows their aid to give, To view the heroes, and their wants relieve.
'Twas now the solemn hour when midnight reigns, And dimly twinkling o'er the ethereal plains, The starry host, by gloomy silence led, O'er earth and sea a glimm'ring paleness shed; When to the fleet, which hemm'd with dangers lay, The silver-wing'd Cyllenius[154] darts away.
Each care was now in soft oblivion steep'd, The watch alone accustom'd vigils kept; E'en GAMA, wearied by the day's alarms, Forgets his cares, reclin'd in slumber's arms.
Scarce had he clos'd his careful eyes in rest, When Maia's son[154] in vision stood confess'd: And "Fly," he cried, "O Lusitanian, fly; Here guile and treason every nerve apply: An impious king for thee the toil prepares, An impious people weaves a thousand snares: Oh fly these sh.o.r.es, unfurl the gather'd sail, Lo, Heaven, thy guide, commands the rising gale.
Hark, loud it rustles; see, the gentle tide Invites thy prows; the winds thy ling'ring chide.
Here such dire welcome is for thee prepar'd As[155] Diomed's unhappy strangers shar'd; His hapless guests at silent midnight bled, On their torn limbs his snorting coursers fed.
Oh fly, or here with strangers' blood imbru'd Busiris' altars thou shalt find renew'd: Amidst his slaughter'd guests his altars stood Obscene with gore, and bark'd with human blood: Then thou, belov'd of Heaven, my counsel hear; Right by the coast thine onward journey steer, Till where the sun of noon no shade begets, But day with night in equal tenor sets.[156]
A sov'reign there, of gen'rous faith unstain'd, With ancient bounty, and with joy unfeign'd Your glad arrival on his sh.o.r.e shall greet, And soothe with every care your weary fleet.
And when again for India's golden strand Before the prosp'rous gale your sails expand, A skilful pilot oft in danger tried, Of heart sincere, shall prove your faithful guide."
Thus Hermes[157] spoke; and as his flight he takes Melting in ambient air, DE GAMA wakes.
Chill'd with amaze he stood, when through the night With sudden ray appear'd the bursting light; The winds loud whizzing through the cordage sigh'd, "Spread, spread the sail!" the raptur'd VASCO cried; "Aloft, aloft, this, this the gale of heaven, By Heaven our guide, th' auspicious sign is given; Mine eyes beheld the messenger divine, 'O fly,' he cried, 'and give the fav'ring sign.
Here treason lurks.'"----Swift as the captain spake The mariners spring bounding to the deck, And now, with shouts far-echoing o'er the sea, Proud of their strength the pond'rous anchors weigh.
When[158] Heaven again its guardian care display'd; Above the wave rose many a Moorish head, Conceal'd by night they gently swam along, And with their weapons saw'd the cables strong, That by the swelling currents whirl'd and toss'd, The navy's wrecks might strew the rocky coast.
But now discover'd, every nerve they ply, And dive, and swift as frighten'd vermin fly.
Now through the silver waves that curling rose, And gently murmur'd round the sloping prows, The gallant fleet before the steady wind Sweeps on, and leaves long foamy tracts behind; While as they sail the joyful crew relate Their wondrous safety from impending fate; And every bosom feels how sweet the joy When, dangers past, the grateful tongue employ.
The sun had now his annual journey run, And blazing forth another course begun, When smoothly gliding o'er the h.o.a.ry tide Two sloops afar the watchful master spied; Their Moorish make the seaman's art display'd; Here GAMA weens to force the pilot's aid: One, base with fear, to certain s.h.i.+pwreck flew; The keel dash'd on the sh.o.r.e, escap'd the crew.
The other bravely trusts the gen'rous foe, And yields, ere slaughter struck the lifted blow, Ere Vulcan's thunders bellow'd. Yet again The captain's prudence and his wish were vain; No pilot here his wand'ring course to guide, No lip to tell where rolls the Indian tide; The voyage calm, or perilous, or afar, Beneath what heaven, or which the guiding star: Yet this they told, that by the neighb'ring bay A potent monarch reign'd, whose pious sway For truth and n.o.blest bounty far renown'd, Still with the stranger's grateful praise was crown'd.
O'erjoyed, brave GAMA heard the tale, which seal'd The sacred truth that Maia's[159] son reveal'd; And bids the pilot, warn'd by Heaven his guide, For fair Melinda[160] turn the helm aside.
'Twas now the jovial season, when the morn From Taurus flames, when Amalthea's horn O'er hill and dale the rose-crown'd Flora pours, And scatters corn and wine, and fruits and flowers.
Right to the port their course the fleet pursu'd, And the glad dawn that sacred day[161] renew'd, When, with the spoils of vanquish'd death adorn'd, To heaven the Victor[162] of the tomb return'd.
And soon Melinda's sh.o.r.e the sailors spy; From every mast the purple streamers fly; Rich-figur'd tap'stry now supplies the sail.
The gold and scarlet tremble in the gale; The standard broad its brilliant hues bewrays, And floating on the wind wide-billowing plays; Shrill through the air the quiv'ring trumpet sounds, And the rough drum the rousing march rebounds.
As thus, regardful of the sacred day, The festive navy cut the wat'ry way, Melinda's sons the sh.o.r.e in thousands crowd, And, offering joyful welcome, shout aloud: And truth the voice inspir'd. Unaw'd by fear, With warlike pomp adorn'd, himself sincere, Now in the port the gen'rous GAMA rides; His stately vessels range their pitchy sides Around their chief; the bowsprits nod the head, And the barb'd anchors gripe the harbour's bed.
Straight to the king, as friends to gen'rous friends, A captive Moor the valiant GAMA sends.
The Lusian fame, the king already knew, What gulfs unknown the fleet had labour'd through, What shelves, what tempests dar'd. His liberal mind Exults the captain's manly trust to find; With that enn.o.bling worth, whose fond employ Befriends the brave, the monarch owns his joy, Entreats the leader and his weary band To taste the dews of sweet repose on land, And all the riches of his cultur'd fields Obedient to the nod of GAMA yields.
His care, meanwhile, their present want attends, And various fowl, and various fruits he sends; The oxen low, the fleecy lambkins bleat, And rural sounds are echo'd through the fleet.
His gifts with joy the valiant chief receives, And gifts in turn, confirming friends.h.i.+p, gives.
Here the proud scarlet darts its ardent rays, And here the purple and the orange blaze; O'er these profuse the branching coral spread, The coral[163] wondrous in its wat'ry bed; Soft there it creeps, in curving branches thrown, In air it hardens to a precious stone.
With these a herald, on whose melting tongue The copious rhetoric[164] of Arabia hung, He sends, his wants and purpose to reveal, And holy vows of lasting peace to seal.