147
Olhai que ledos vão, por várias vias,
Quais rompentes liões e bravos touros,
Dando os corpos a fomes e vigias,
A ferro, a fogo, a setas e pelouros,
A quentes regiões, a plagas frias,
A golpes de Idolátras e de Mouros,
A perigos incógnitos do mundo,
A naufrágios, a pexes, ao profundo.
Look how they gladly wend by many a way, 147
with raging Bulls’ or rampant Lyons’ might,
self-doomed to sleepless night and foodless day,
to fire and steel, shaft-show’er and bullet-flight:
To torrid Tropicks, Arcticks frore and grey,
the Pagan’s buffet and the Moor’s despight;
to risks invisible threating human life,
to wrack, sea-monsters and the waves’ wild strife.
148
Por vos servir, a tudo aparelhados;
De vós tão longe, sempre obedientes;
A quaisquer vossos ásperos mandados,
Sem dar reposta, prontos e contentes.
Só com saber que são de vós olhados,
Demónios infernais, negros e ardentes,
Cometerão convosco, e não duvido
Que vencedor vos façam, não vencido.
All risks to serve thy cause they dare affront, 148
to thee though distant yield they homage due,
of ev’ry hard command they bear the brunt
sans answer, ever prompt and ever true:
On single look of favour could they count,
infernal Demons, black with Hell’s own hue,
with thee they fain encounter, and they dare
unconquer’d Conqueror their King declare.
149
Favorecei-os logo, e alegrai-os
Com a presença e leda humanidade;
De rigorosas leis desalivai-os,
Que assi se abre o caminho à santidade.
Os mais exprimentados levantai-os,
Se, com a experiência, têm bondade
Pera vosso conselho, pois que sabem
O como, o quando, e onde as cousas cabem.
Favour them alway, gladden every face 149
with thy fair Presence, blithe Humanity;
of rig’orous rule relieve them, deal the grace
of milder law that leads to sanctity:
impart to long Experience rank and place,
an with Experience ‘habit Honesty
to work thy Sovran will; thus all shall trow
what things befall them, Whence and When and How.
150
Todos favorecei em seus ofícios,
Segundo têm das vidas o talento;
Tenham Religiosos exercícios
De rogarem, por vosso regimento,
Com jejuns, disciplina, pelos vícios
Comuns; toda ambição terão por vento,
Que o bom Religioso verdadeiro
Glória vã não pretende nem dinheiro.
All favour thou in Duty’s different way, 150
as in each life the stored talent lies:
Let the Religious for thy gov’ernance pray,
and beg a blessing on each high emprize;
fast they and fash their flesh for those who stray
in vulgar vices, and as wind despise
Ambition, ne’er shall holy Priest mislead
glare of vain-glory, nor of gain the greed.
151
Os Cavaleiros tende em muita estima,
Pois com seu sangue intrépido e fervente
Estendem não sòmente a Lei de cima,
Mas inda vosso Império preminente.
Pois aqueles que a tão remoto clima
Vos vão servir, com passo diligente,
Dous inimigos vencem: uns, os vivos,
E (o que é mais) os trabalhos excessivos.
Foster the Cavaliers with fair esteem, 151
that oft their fearless, fiery blood have lent
to spread not only Heaven’s law supreme,
but eke thy royal Rule pre-eminent.
Such men who fare to face each fell extreme
of climate in thy cause aye diligent,
conquer a double foe; the fone that live,
and (deadlier task) with dark, dumb danger strive.
152
Fazei, Senhor, que nunca os admirados
Alemães, Galos, Ítalos e Ingleses,
Possam dizer que são pera mandados,
Mais que pera mandar, os Portugueses.
Tomai conselho só d’exprimentados
Que viram largos anos, largos meses,
Que, posto que em cientes muito cabe.
Mais em particular o experto sabe.
So do, my Sire! that sons of famous lands 152
Britons, Italians, Germans and the Gaul,
ne’er vaunt that might of mortal man commands
thy Portingalls, who should command them all.
Take counsel only with experienced hands,
men who long years, long moons, saw rise and fall:
Many for gen’eral science fitness show,
yet the particulars none save experts know.
153
De Formião, filósofo elegante,
Vereis como Anibal escarnecia,
Quando das artes bélicas, diante
Dele, com larga voz tratava e lia.
A disciplina militar prestante
Não se aprende, Senhor, na fantasia,
Sonhando, imaginando ou estudando,
Senão vendo, tratando e pelejando.
Elegant Phormion’s philosophick store, 153
see how the practised Hannibal derided,
when lectured he with wealth of bellick lore
and on big words and books himself he prided.
Senhor! the Soldier’s discipline is more
than men may learn by mother-fancy guided:
Not musing, dreaming, reading what they write;
;tis seeing, doing, fighting, teach to fight.
154
Mas eu que falo, humilde, baxo e rudo,
De vós não conhecido nem sonhado?
Da boca dos pequenos sei, contudo,
Que o louvor sai às vezes acabado.
Tem me falta na vida honesto estudo,
Com longa experiência misturado,
Nem engenho, que aqui vereis presente,
Cousas que juntas se acham raramente.
But I, what dare I say, rude, humble, low, 154
to thee unknown, yes, even in thy dreams?
Yet oft from lips of Babes and Sucklings flow,
I trow, the words of wisdom man esteems:
Right honest studies my career can show
with long Experience blent as best beseems,
and Genius here presented for thy view; —
gifts, that conjoined appertain to few.
155
Pera servir-vos, braço às armas feito,
Pera cantar-vos, mente às Musas dada;
Só me falece ser a vós aceito,
De quem virtude deve ser prezada.
Se me isto o Céu concede, e o vosso peito
Dina empresa tomar de ser cantada,
Como a pres[s]aga mente vaticina
Olhando a vossa inclinação divina,
For serving thee an arm to Arms addrest; 155
for singing thee a soul the Muses raise;
nought lacks me save of thee to stand confest,
whose duty ’tis the Good to prize and praise:
If Heav’en concede me this, and if thy breast
deign incept worthy of a Poet’s lays; —
as doth presage my spirit vaticine
viewing thee pace the human path divine: —
156
Ou fazendo que, mais que a de Medusa,
A vista vossa tema o monte Atlante,
Ou rompendo nos campos de Ampelusa
Os muros de Marrocos
e Trudante,
A minha já estimada e leda Musa
Fico que em todo o mundo de vós cante,
De sorte que Alexandro em vós se veja,
Sem à dita de Aquiles ter enveja.
Final de Os Lusíadas
Or do’ing such derring-do, that ne’er Meduse 156
shall Atlas-mountain like thy glances shake,
or battling on the plains of Ampeluse
Marocco’s mures and Terodant to break;
my now esteemed and rejoicing Muse
thy name o’er Earth, I swear, so famed shall make,
an Alexander shall in Thee be shown
who of Achilles envy ne’er shall own.
THE LUSIADS: 1776 MICKLE TRANSLATION
Translated by William Julius Mickle
CONTENTS
ORIGINAL DEDICATION, 1776
EDITOR’S PREFACE.
THE LIFE OF CAMOËNS BY WILLIAM JULIUS MICKLE.
DISSERTATION ON THE LUSIAD, AND ON EPIC POETRY, BY THE TRANSLATOR.
MICKLE’S INTRODUCTION TO THE LUSIAD.
MICKLE’S SKETCH OF THE HISTORY OF THE DISCOVERY OF INDIA.
BOOK I.
BOOK II.
BOOK III.
BOOK IV.
BOOK V.
BOOK VI.
BOOK VII.
BOOK VIII.
BOOK IX.
BOOK X.
FOOTNOTES
ORIGINAL DEDICATION, 1776
TO THE DUKE OF BUCCLEUGH.
My Lord,
The first idea of offering my Lusiad to some distinguished personage, inspired the earnest wish, that it might be accepted by the illustrious representative of that family under which my father, for many years, discharged the duties of a clergyman.
Both the late Duke of Buccleugh, and the Earl of Dalkeith, distinguished him by particular marks of their favour; and I must have forgotten him, if I could have wished to offer the first Dedication of my literary labours to any other than the Duke of Buccleugh.
I am, with the greatest respect,
My Lord,
Your Grace’s most devoted
And most obedient humble servant,
WILLIAM JULIUS MICKLE.
EDITOR’S PREFACE.
In undertaking, at the publishers’ request, the function of editor of Mickle’s Lusiad, I have compared the translation with the original, and, in some places, where another translation seemed preferable to, or more literal than, Mickle’s, I have, in addition, given that rendering in a foot-note. Moreover, I have supplied the arguments to the several cantos, given a few more explanatory notes, and added a table of contents.
“The late ingenious translator of the Lusiad,” says Lord Strangford,1* “has portrayed the character, and narrated the misfortunes of our poet, in a manner more honourable to his feelings as a man than to his accuracy in point of biographical detail. It is with diffidence that the present writer essays to correct his errors; but, as the real circumstances of the life of Camoëns are mostly to be found in his own minor compositions, with which Mr. Mickle was unacquainted, he trusts that certain information will atone for his presumption.”
As Lord Strangford professes to have better and more recent sources of information regarding the illustrious, but{viii} unfortunate, bard of Portugal, I make no apology for presenting to the reader an abstract of his lordship’s memoir. Much further information will be found, however, in an able article contained in No. 53 of the Quarterly Review for July, 1822, from the pen, I believe, of the poet Southey. “The family of Camoëns was illustrious,” says Lord Strangford, “and originally Spanish. They were long settled at Cadmon, a castle in Galicia, from which they probably derived their patronymic appellation. However, there are some who maintain that their name alluded to a certain wonderful bird,2* whose mischievous sagacity discovered and punished the smallest deviation from conjugal fidelity. A lady of the house of Cadmon, whose conduct had been rather indiscreet, demanded to be tried by this extraordinary judge. Her innocence was proved, and, in gratitude to the being who had restored him to matrimonial felicity, the contented husband adopted his name.” It would appear that in a dispute between the families of Cadmon and De Castera, a cavalier of the latter family was slain. This happened in the fourteenth century. A long train of persecution followed, to escape which, Ruy de Camoëns, having embraced the cause of Ferdinand, removed with his family into Portugal, about A.D. 1370. His son, Vasco de Camoëns, was highly distinguished by royal favour, and had the honour of being the ancestor of our poet, who descended from him in the fourth generation. Luia de Camoëns, the author of the Lusiad, was born at Lisbon about A.D. 1524. His misfortunes began with his birth — he never saw a father’s smile — for Simon Vasco de Camoëns perished by shipwreck in the very year which gave being to his illustrious son. The future poet was sent to the university of Coimbra — then at the height of its fame,— “and maintained there by the provident care of his surviving parent.”
“Love,” says Lord Strangford, “is very nearly allied to devotion, and it was in the exercise of the latter, that Camoëns was introduced to the knowledge of the former. In the Church of Christ’s Wounds at Lisbon, on 11th April, 1542, Camoëns first beheld Doña Caterina de Atayde, the object of his purest and earliest attachment ... and it was not long before Camoëns enjoyed an opportunity of declaring his affection, with all the romantic ardour of eighteen and of a poet.” The peculiar situation of the lady, as one of the maids of honour to the queen, imposed a restraint upon her admirer which soon became intolerable; and he, for having violated the sanctity of the royal precincts, was in consequence banished from the court. Whatever may have been the nature of his offence, “it furnished a pretext to the young lady’s relations for terminating an intercourse which worldly considerations rendered highly imprudent.”
But Love consoled his votary: his mistress, on the morning of his departure, confessed the secret of her long-concealed affection, and the sighs of grief were soon lost in those of mutual delight. The hour of parting was, perhaps, the sweetest of our poet’s existence.
Camoëns removed to Santarem, but speedily returned to Lisbon, was a second time detected, and again driven into exile.3*
The voice of Love inspired our poet “with the glorious resolution of conquering the obstacles which fortune had placed between him and felicity.” He obtained permission, therefore, to accompany King John III. in an expedition then fitting out against the Moors in Africa. In one of the engagements with the enemy our hero had the misfortune to lose “his right eye, by some splinters from the deck of the vessel in which he was stationed. Many of his most pathetic compositions were written during this campaign, and the toils of a martial life were sweetened by the recollection of her for whose sake they were endured. His heroic conduct at length procured his recall to court,” but to find, alas, that his mistress was no more.
Disappointed in his hope of obtaining any recognition of his valiant deeds, he now resolved, under the burning sun of India, to seek that independence which his own country denied. “The last words I uttered,” says Camoëns, “on board the vessel before leaving, were those of Scipio: ‘Ungrateful country! thou shalt not even possess my bones.’” “Some,” says Lord Strangford, “attribute his departure to a very different cause, and assert that he quitted his native shores on account of an intrigue in which he was detected with the beautiful wife of a Portuguese gentleman. Perhaps,” says Lord Strangford, “this story may not be wholly unfounded.” On his arrival in India he contributed by his bravery to the success of an expedition carried on by the King of Cochin, and his allies, the Portuguese, against the Pimento Islands; and in the following year (1555) he accompanied Manuel de Vasconcelos in an expedition to the Red Sea. Here he explored the wild regions of East Africa, and stored his mind with ideas of scenery, which afterwards formed some of the most finished pictures of the Lusiad.
On his return to Goa, Camoëns devoted his whole attention to the completion of his poem; but an unfortun
ate satire which, under the title of Disparates na India, or Follies in India, he wrote against the vices and corruptions of the Portuguese authorities in Goa, so roused the indignation of the viceroy that the poet was banished to China.
Of his adventures in China, and the temporary prosperity he enjoyed there, while he held the somewhat uncongenial office of Provedor dos defuntos, i.e., Trustee for deceased persons, Mickle has given an ample account in the introduction to the Lusiad. During those years Camoëns completed his poem, about half of which was written before he left Europe. According to a tradition, not improbable in itself, he composed great part of it in a natural grotto which commands a splendid view of the city and harbour of Macao. An engraving of it may be seen in Onseley’s Oriental Collections, and another will be found in Sir G. Staunton’s Account of the Embassy to China.
A little temple, in the Chinese style, has been erected upon the rock, and the ground around it has been ornamented by Mr. Fitzhugh, one of our countrymen, from respect to the memory of the poet. The years that he passed in Macao were probably the happiest of his life. Of his departure for Europe, and his unfortunate shipwreck at the mouth of the river Meekhaun,4* in Cochin China, Mickle has also given a sufficient account.
Lord Strangford has related, on the authority of Sousa, that while our poet was languishing in poverty at Lisbon, “a cavalier, named Ruy de Camera, called on him one day, asking him to finish for him a poetical version of the seven penitential psalms. Raising his head from his wretched pallet, and pointing to his faithful Javanese attendant, he exclaimed, ‘Alas, when I was a poet, I was young, and happy, and blest with the love of ladies; but now I am a forlorn, deserted wretch. See — there stands my poor Antonio, vainly supplicating fourpence to purchase a little coals — I have them not to give him.’ The cavalier, as Sousa relates, closed both his heart and his purse, and quitted the room. Such were the grandees of Portugal.” Camoëns sank under the pressure of penury and disease, and died in an alms-house, early in 1579, and was buried in the church of Sta. Anna of the Franciscan Friars. Over his grave Gonzalo Coutinho placed the following inscription: —
“Here lies Luis de Camoëns.
He excelled all the poets of his time.
He lived poor and miserable, and he died so.
mdlxxix.”
The translator of the Lusiad was born, in 1734, at Langholm, in Dumfriesshire, where his father, a good French scholar, was the Presbyterian minister. At the age of sixteen William Julius Mickle was removed, to his great dislike, from school, and sent into the counting-house of a relation of his mother’s, a brewer, where, against his inclination, he remained five years. He subsequently, for family reasons, became the head of the firm, and carried on the business. It is not to be wondered at, however, that with his dislike to business in general and to this one in particular, he did not succeed; and it is quite reasonable to suppose that the cause of his failure, and subsequent pecuniary embarrassments, arose from his having devoted those hours to his poetical studies which should have been dedicated to business. Mickle obtained afterwards the appointment of corrector of the Clarendon Press in Oxford, and died at Wheatly, in Oxfordshire, in 1789.
Luis de Camoes Collected Poetical Works Page 83
