The Lusiads (Oxford World's Classics)
Page 6
And because you bring from a troublesome
Voyage a crew jaded and infirm,
He suggests, replenish them here on land;
Anything that allures is his to command.
4 ‘If you come hoping for merchandise,
The riches of the sumptuous Levant,
Cinnamon, cloves, ardent spices,
Or potent, health-giving drugs,
Or if you hope to find precious stones,
The exquisite ruby, the precise diamond,
If these are the luxuries you treasure,
Here is your journey’s end, by any measure.’
5 Courteously, the captain responded,
Thanking the Sultan for his words,
But adding that now the sun had descended
He would not comply by risking the bar;
However, as soon as daylight showed
A safe passage for the fleet,
He would cross without hesitation since
Nothing less was due to so great a prince.
6 Then he asked if there really were
Christians as the pilot had claimed;
The alert messenger did not blink
But assured him most were believers;
So by such means his heart was cleared
Of calculation and foreboding,
And our captain was gently led to quell
All lingering doubts about the infidel.
7 Even so, from among those prisoners
On board, sentenced for gross crimes
So their lives could be hazarded
In predicaments such as these,
He sent two of the cleverest, trained
To spy on the city and defences
Of the resourceful Muslims, and to greet
The famous Christians he so longed to meet.
8 With them he sent to the Sultan gifts
In the hope his apparent benignity
Would stay tender and unsullied
Though, in truth, all was the reverse.
Meanwhile, the dangerous ambassadors
Had re-embarked and crossed the tide way
And, with compliments on their smiling lips,
Welcomed ashore the convicts from the ships.
9 After they had presented to the Sultan
With due ceremony the gifts they bore,
They toured the city, but observed
Much less of it than they had hoped,
For the cautious Muslims were reluctant
To let them see all they desired:
Where malice rules, it’s natural to fear
Everyone’s motives must be similar.
10 But Bacchus, the twice-born,* whose
Countenance shone with perpetual youth,
The same god who wove the fictions
To bring about the fleet’s destruction,
Had again taken on human form,
This time in the habit of a Christian
And, in one of the mansions, he had arrayed
A gorgeous altar where on his knees he prayed.
11 There was depicted the Holy Ghost
Painted as a white dove fluttering
Down from on high to that matchless
Phoenix, Mary the chaste Virgin;
There too was pictured the sacred company
Of the twelve apostles, open-mouthed
As, with tongues of fire, the Holy Ghost
Schooled them in languages at Pentecost.*
12 The two friends were conducted where
Bacchus had raised this forgery,
And they fell on their knees, truly
Touched by the God who rules the world.
Semele’s son hovered like a priest,
Scattering the sweetest incense
Of Arabia; and thus, when he was through,
The false god was worshipping the true.
13 The Christian convicts were sheltered
For the night hospitably, with every
Scrupulous attention, unaware
Of the fraud practised on their faith;
But as soon as the glittering sun’s
Rays lit up the earth, at the very
Instant when over the horizon rolled
Apollo with his countenance of gold,
14 Messengers left the shore with the Sultan’s
Renewed invitation to enter harbour,
And with them the men the captain had sent
To whom the Sultan had been so gracious;
And so da Gama, once more assured
That no danger was in the offing,
And that Christians were waiting in that city,
Turned his prows towards the salt estuary.
15 Those sent to spy said they had seen
Sacred altars and a holy priest;
It was there they lodged, and slept
Through the long hours of darkness;
In the Sultan and the people, they found
Only generosity and contentment
There was, in all conscience, nothing to fear
About courtesies so open and sincere.
16 At this, the noble da Gama received
Gladly the Muslims who came on board;
So easily can a trusting soul
Be taken in by appearances.
The decks filled with the unbelievers,
Abandoning the boats which brought them,
Quietly happy that within the hour
The Portuguese would fall into their power.
17 Secretly, those on the shore prepared
Weapons and ammunition so the moment
The ships anchored in the river
They would launch a bold assault;
By this stratagem they were determined
The sons of Lusus would all be killed,
As on the unsuspecting they would wreak
Vengeance for what was done in Mozambique.
18 The stubborn anchors were hauled up,
The sailors chanting as is their custom;
Under foresails alone, they turned
In the wind to where the bar was marked.
But Venus of Ericina,* who watched
Tirelessly over the Portuguese heroes,
Observing the ambush set so secretly,
Sped swifter than an arrow from heaven to sea.
19 She summoned Nereus’ white daughters
And all the forces of the blue ocean,
Who obeyed her because she herself
Had her birth in the salt waves;
And announcing to them why she had come,
She led the entire company
To place their lovely bodies as obstruction
Between the ships and imminent destruction.
20 They sped across the water, lashing it
To foam with their silver tails;
Cloto was breasting the billows
More impetuously than usual;
Nisa leapt; Nerina flung herself
Headlong over the crests, while
The undulating breakers took alarm
At the reckless nymphs, and ducked away from harm.
21 Vehement and lovely in her anger,
Venus rode on a triton’s shoulders;
He did not resent her sweet weight,
Proud of so beautiful a burden.
Arriving quickly where the stiff wind
Was swelling the sails of the warlike fleet,
The nereids dispersed and without delay
Circled the light ships as they gathered way.
22 The goddess placed herself with others
Directly before the flagship’s prow,
Blocking the way* to the bar as the wind
Gusted, swelling the sails in vain;
She leaned her soft breasts against the hard timbers,
Forcing the powerful warship back;
Other nymphs to port and starboard lifted
And clear of the dread bar the vessel shifted.
23 As ants,* wise to the coming of w
inter,
Lift and carry back to their nest
Objects beyond all proportion to their size
As they struggle to lay in store;
Wearily they labour, displaying
Powers that seem incredible;
So toiled the nymphs to snatch and defend
The Lusitanians from a hideous end.
24 By sheer effort they drove the ship
Back, in spite of the mariners, who cursed
As they re-set the sails, wrenching
The rudder from starboard to port;
On the stern poop, the shrewd bo’sun
Shouted in vain about a huge reef
Directly in their path which if they hit,
Head-on or glancingly, the hull would split.
25 The rough sailors chanted as they
Hauled and sweated in rhythm;
The pandemonium shocked the Muslims
Who imagined it was some war cry;
Not knowing the cause, or what
To make of the uproar, they assumed
The Portuguese realized what was planned
And that swift retribution was at hand.
26 To a man, they launched themselves
Into the light boats which had brought them;
Some crashed headlong in the water;
Some chose to escape by swimming;
From both sides men jumped, driven
By terror of what they imagined,
Much preferring the hazards of the sea
To the hands of their affronted enemy.
27 As in a pond* deep in the countryside,
Frogs, those one-time people of Lycia,
If they happen to be out of the water
When they sense someone approaching,
From here, there, and everywhere plop
Back where they feel safest,
Dissolving in the element they know,
But above the surface their heads still show;
28 So the Muslims scampered; and the pilot
Too, who took the ships into danger,
Believing his plot was discovered,
Fled by jumping in the brackish water.
Meanwhile, to avoid hitting the reef
Where they would lose their dear lives,
The flagship cast anchors fore and aft,
And the crew struck sail in the other craft.
29 Watching this, bemused by the Muslims’
Strange actions and the pilot’s
Equally precipitate flight, da Gama
Understood what had been planned;
And seeing there were no hostile
Winds nor any opposing current
To obstruct them in their passage ahead,
He took it for a miracle, and said:
30 —‘O rare, unlooked-for deliverance!
O clear, self-evident miracle!
O treachery, baffling but manifest!
O false and malignant people!
What man, however diligent,
Could keep malevolence at bay
If the Immortal Guardian on high
Did not watch over frail humanity?
31 ‘Plainly, Providence has shown us
There is no safety in these ports;
Visibly has been exposed the fraud
Practised on our good faith;
But since neither long experience
Nor wit can be our salvation,
Do not, O Sacred Guardian, hide your face
From those whose only harbour is your grace!
32 ‘And being so moved with compassion
For this wretched, wandering people,
Knowing that only your Divine pity
Preserved us from such wicked foes,
Now in your wisdom, be our pilot
To some haven truly secure,
And the India we seek, at last unveil,
For only in Your service do we sail.’
33 Overhearing this pious prayer,
Venus, in all her beauty, was touched
And, parting from the nereids who
Were saddened seeing her go so soon,
Already she was among the bright
Stars, already in the third heaven,
Passing swiftly and only pausing where
Jupiter had his home in the sixth sphere.*
34 She arrived panting from her journey,
Looking so flushed and radiant
The stars and heavens and surrounding
Air and all that saw her loved her;
From her eyes, where Cupid had his nest,
Flashed such a generous warmth
The earth’s frozen continents caught fire
And both ice caps burned like Africa.
35 And to further entice the Father
Who always loved and esteemed her,
She displayed herself* as she once did
To Paris* in the forests of Mount Ida.
Had Diana,* when glimpsed by Actaeon,
Looked half so lovely in the clear water,
Never would he have been torn asunder
By his hounds, but perished of sheer wonder.
36 With careful carelessness, her gold hair
Tumbled on her white shoulders;
As she moved, her nipples trembled
As if Love was playing there invisibly;
From her immaculate waist shot the flames
With which Cupid sets hearts smouldering,
While hot desire wove its lustful eyes
Closer than ivy round her marble thighs.
37 With sheerest silk she hid those parts
Normally veiled by modesty,
Though not so demurely as to hide
Or quite reveal her mount of lilies,
But using the barrier of transparency
To fire lust with redoubled ardour.
Vulcan raged with jealousy, while Mars’
Rekindled passion* shook the furthest stars.
38 And selecting for her angelic face
A smile transfused with sadness,
Like a woman ill used in the courtly
Game by an inattentive lover,
Laughing and complaining at the same
Instant, torn between joy and anguish,
The goddess, unequalled in the arts of love,
Less sad than tender, made her speech to Jove:
39 —‘I always imagined, mighty Father,
That in matters I have most at heart,
You would be loving and considerate
Even if something weighed to the contrary;
Now I find you angry, without my
Deserving it or having wronged you,
So let Bacchus go ahead with his plot;
Misery, I am resigned, must be my lot.
40 ‘These my people, for whom I shed
Tears I find were shed uselessly,
Have been led by my love into danger
Because you oppose me so much;
Imploring you, weeping on their behalf,
I struggle against my peace of mind.
Because I love them, they are rejected;
So let me hate them, then they’ll be protected.
41 ‘Let them perish at those brutes’ hands
Since I . . .’ At this, tenderly,
She bathed her countenance in tears
Like dew-drops on a new-blown rose.
She struggled, as if her lips
Could not utter the pitiful words,
Then tried again; but Jove the Thunderer
With all his authority prevented her.
42 Touched by those tender protestations
That would have moved a tiger’s heart,
With a countenance such, as when turned
Downwards, brightens the darkest skies,
He dried her tears and kissed her face,
Embracing her flawless bosom
So fervently that had they been in private
Another Cupid* might have been arrived at.
/> 43 As he pressed her lovely face to his,
She increased her tears and sobbing
As a child, scolded by its nursemaid
Weeps the more for being comforted;
So to quieten her tormented spirit,
He began to unfold to her the future,
And, by her arts, was driven to relate
All that lay hidden in the womb of fate.
44 —‘My lovely daughter, do not fear
For the safety of your Portuguese,
Nor that anything weighs more with me
Than those sovereign, tearful eyes;
I promise you, daughter, you will see
The Greeks and Romans far outshone
By what people of Portuguese descent
Will accomplish throughout the Orient.
45 ‘Though Ulysses* could talk his way
Out of slavery on Calypso’s island,
Though Antenor breached the Adriatic
To the source of of the River Timavus,
Though devout Aeneas steered safely
Between Scylla and Charybdis,
Your greater navigators will unfold
New worlds to the amazement of the old.
46 ‘You will see, my daughter, castles,
Cities, ramparts all built at their hands;
Even the tough, formidable Turks
You will see consistently routed;
The independent kings of India
Will be subject to the king of Portugal,
Bringing, when all falls under his command,
A better dispensation to that land.
47 ‘You will see him, who is persevering
In his intrepid search for India,
Strike fear into Neptune himself
In a dead calm without a breath of wind,
A miracle* never before witnessed,
The ocean quaking spontaneously!
Such strong people! Such bold expedients!
To terrorize the very elements!
48 ‘You will see the island* which denied them
Water become one day a fine port,
Where the Indian fleet on the long voyage
From the west can recover and refit.
All that coastline, which even now
Wove its deadly plots, will submit,
Acknowledging by their annual levies
Their powerlessness against the Portuguese.
49 ‘You will see* the famous Red Sea
Turning yellow from sheer fright;
You will see the great kingdom of Ormuz
Twice captured and subdued;
There you will see the furious Moor
Transfixed by his own arrows,
For whoever denies your people will curse
Their resistance has only made things worse.
50 ‘You will watch them, in mighty Diu,
Be invincible through two sieges;
There they will show their calibre
In outstanding feats of arms;
Great Mars will swell with envy
At the ferocity of the Portuguese,