The Lusiads (Oxford World's Classics)
Page 19
Was a great host of Assyrians,
Subject to Semiramis,* a queen
As lovely as she was lewd;
For there, at her burning flank,
Was carved the great rutting stallion,
Whose place her son had afterwards to dispute:
So criminal her passion, so dissolute!
54 A little to the side, there fluttered
The banners of Alexander’s Greece,
The world’s third empire,* conquering
As far as the waters of the Ganges.
The youthful general was leading them,
The victor’s palms circling his brow,
Already bragging he was son and heir
Not of Philip but almighty Jupiter.
55 As the Portuguese studied these records,
The Catual remarked to the captain:
—‘Other conquests are fast approaching
To eclipse these you are looking on;
Fresh legends will be carved here
By strange peoples yet to appear,
For so the pattern of the coming years
Has been deciphered by our wisest seers.
56 ‘And their mystic science declares
Further, that no human resistance
Can prevail against such forces,
For man is powerless before destiny;
But the newcomers’ sheer excellence
In war and peace will be such, they say,
Even the vanquished will feel no disgrace,
Having been overcome by such a race.’
57 So conversing, they passed into the room
In which the mighty emperor lay
Reclining on a couch, unsurpassed
In its rich and delicate workmanship.
In repose, his expression was that
Of a venerable and prosperous lord;
His robe was a cloth of gold, his diadem
Studded with every kind of precious gem.
58 At his side, kneeling on the ground,
An old man passed him, from time to time,
A leaf of the peppery betel plant
They make a custom of chewing.
A Brahmin, one of their eminent men,
Approached da Gama at a slow pace,
And solemnly led him to be greeted
By the king, who waved him to be seated.
59 Da Gama sat down near the royal couch,
His men further off, and the Samorin
Studied the dress and the bearing
Of such people as he had never seen.
Then, speaking from a wise heart
In a voice whose grave authority
Straightway impressed the king and all the court,
The captain spoke the message he had brought:
60 —‘A great king in the farthest west
Where the sky, in its perpetual turning,
Blocks the sun’s light with the earth,
Leaving half revolving in darkness,
Having heard so far away the echo
Of the echo of a tale, that on you
All power throughout all India depends,
Desires that you and he be bound as friends.
61 ‘By long, circuitous ways he sends you
Tidings that in its sheer wealth,
Whether traded by sea or land
From the Tagus to the Nile,
Or from the cold shores of the far north
To Ethiopia, where the burning sun
Times equally its setting and its rise,
His kingdom overflows with merchandise.
62 ‘If you are willing, with sacred pacts
And treaties of sincere friendship,
To begin trade in the abundance
Of goods between his land and yours,
So that the wealth of your kingdom
(For which men most struggle and sweat)
May increase, this would beyond question be
Profit for you, and for him greater glory.
63 ‘And to ensure this bond of friendship
Between us is solid and enduring,
He will be ready when any danger
Of war should threaten your kingdom
To support you with men, arms, and ships
As if you were a friend and brother;
Whatever your pleasure, you should proffer
A straightforward answer to his offer.’
64 So the captain delivered his message,
To which the Hindu king replied
It was a great glory to receive
Ambassadors from so remote a nation;
But on a matter of such importance
He must consult with his counsellors,
To enquire into everything he claimed
About the king, land, and people he had named;
65 Meanwhile, the captain should take rest
After his labours; for very soon
He would give his dispatch due reflection
And a happy response to his king.
By now, night was placing her daily
Check on human weariness as,
Luring tired limbs to sleep, she pressed
On heavy eyes the blessings of sweet rest.
66 They were lodged together, da Gama
And his countrymen, in a chamber
Of the noble emperor’s palace
With feasting and general happiness.
And now it became the Catual’s task,
In his diligent service of his master,
To discover more about this strange breed,
Their origins, their customs, and their creed.
67 As soon as he glimpsed young Apollo’s
Glorious chariot heralding day,
He summoned Monsayeed, to discover
What he could tell of these novel people.
Eager and curious, he demanded
A full account, and sure proof
Of who they were, having come to understand
Their home was very near his native land;
68 And he urged him, expressly in the king’s
Interest, to tell everything he knew,
Holding back no detail which might
Reveal how to act in this business.
Monsayeed answered: ‘Much as I wish,
To say more, I know only this;
They come from Iberia, where the sun descends
Beyond my home and theirs, where the land ends.
69 ‘In religion, they follow a prophet
Conceived of one who was yet a virgin,
By the Holy Spirit, so favoured by God
Who keeps order in the universe.
Among old people, it is an old tale
That in hand-to-hand warfare,
Bloody with valour, they marked our history,
As my ancestors found repeatedly.
70 ‘With superhuman might and exploits
Talked of to this day, they expelled us
From the fertile meadows of the rich
Tagus and the pleasant Guadiana;
And still not content, they crossed
The stormy seas to Africa, never
Leaving us in peace, unless as vassals,
Storming our cities, capturing our castles.
71 ‘They showed no less strength and strategy
In the other wars that engaged them
Whether against the fierce Castilians,
Or with armies descending the Pyrenees.
Never once against foreign lances
Are they known to have known defeat;
Nor, in short, can past or present tell us
Who to these Hannibals will prove Marcellus.
72 ‘But if this account is less complete
Than you would wish, question them
Yourself! They are a truth-loving people
Angered and insulted by falsehood.
Visit the ships! Examine the weapons,
The dreadful artillery! You will
Find it highly diverting to learn mor
e
Of Portuguese conduct in peace and war.’
73 By now the Hindu burned to inspect
Everything the Muslim had told him;
He summoned boats, to go out and review
The ships in which da Gama sailed.
Both left for the beach, and the Nairs,
Following, choked the very seas;
They boarded the flagship with its armour
And were embraced by Paulo da Gama.
74 Purple were the awnings, purple the flags
In that rich fabric the silkworm spins;
On them were painted heroic exploits
Of warriors from times gone by;
Dangerous pitched battles, ferocious
Duels—they were fearful pictures;
But as the Hindu saw them, straight away
He feasted his eyes on the grim display.
75 His questions began, but da Gama first
Begged him to be seated, and sample
The pleasures of eating and drinking
Like a true-born Epicurean.
Wine, which was first made by Noah,*
Was poured for him from foaming jugs;
But our foods he was compelled to reject
As forbidden by the doctrines of his sect.
76 Trumpets, evoking even in peacetime
Warlike images, burst on the air;
The cannon’s diabolical thunder
Shuddered from the depths of the sea.
The Catual took note; but his eyes
Were riveted on the unique
Deeds which, in that eloquent gallery,
Were depicted in such silent poetry.
77 He rose, and with da Gama to one side,
Coelho and the African to the other,
He examined the martial figure
Of a noble, white-haired veteran,
Whose name will never be extinct
While human society survives;
His costume was wholly Greek in manner;
In his right hand was a branch like a banner.
78 In his right hand was a branch . . . But what
Blind folly is this that I embark,
On a voyage so hard, so long and varied
Without you, nymphs of Tagus and Mondego?
I implore your help, for I am sailing
The open sea with a wind so contrary
That, if you cease to inspire and maintain me,
My slight craft will no longer sustain me.
79 Consider the years I have spent, singing
Of your Tagus and your Lusitanians,
While Fortune kept me drifting
From one task and trial to the next,
Now tossed on the ocean, now suffering
The inhuman torments of war,
Like Cânace’s* last letter to her brother,
Pen in one hand, a sword in the other.
80 Now banished, in hateful poverty,
To long exile under alien roofs;
Now, just as prospects seemed mature,
Dashed more than ever in my hopes;
Now, my life on a thread, surviving
Shipwreck* by no less a miracle
Than the extra years given to Hezekiah, *
As promised by the prophet Isaiah!
81 And yet, my nymphs, it was not enough
To plague me with such sufferings,
But that the very men whose deeds I praised
Should reward my poetry as they did:
Where I had hoped to exchange toil
For honours and wreaths of laurel,
Labours undreamed of they devised for me
Encompassing my present misery!
82 Observe, O nymphs, what perspicacity
Your Tagus nurtures in its worthies,
That they deluge with such favours
He who extols them in his song!
What an incentive to future poets
To quicken enquiry and skill,
And keep before the nation’s memory
Those deeds which deserve eternal glory!
83 So now, beset by such evils, your
Bounty must not fail me, especially
Now I approach a canto where
Further achievements must be praised.
Give but yourselves. I return my oath
I shall not waste it on the worthless,
Nor spend flattery on today’s favourite.
No matter how spitefully they savour it.
84 Have no qualms, nymphs, that I will squander
Metaphors on that man who places
Self interest above king and commonwealth,
Against divine and human law.
Nor will I praise the ambitious
Courtier who seeks exalted office,
Only to place himself above complaint
Indulging his every vice without constraint.
85 Nor he who employs authority only
To attain his foul ambitions,
Nor he who, to remain popular
Is more adaptable than Proteus;
Nor fear, my muses, I will praise
Those who adopt grave, honest faces,
To please their king and uphold the law
Only to harass and despoil the poor;
86 Nor he who thinks it just and politic
To enforce the king’s decrees strictly,
And does not consider it good and fair
To reward the sweat of the workers;
Nor that incompetent bureaucrat
Who preens himself as prudent and thrifty,
Taxing with his exorbitant demands
Labours to which he never turned his hands.
87 They alone shall fill my song who,
For God and king, ventured life itself,
And when they lost it, won the honour
And fame their achievements deserve.
Apollo and the Muses, who have
Travelled with me, will fire me anew,
Having taken this brief interval of rest,
To return to my task with redoubled zest.
Canto Eight
1 By the first of the paintings,* the Catual
Paused, to study the figure who bore
In his hand a green branch as an emblem,
His long beard white and spruce;
Who was he and what was declared
By that device he was carrying?
In a wise voice, Paulo annotated
And the wise Mauretanian translated.
2 —‘All these figures depicted here,
In such magnificent, bold colours
Were yet more bold and magnificent
In their real lives and exploits;
They are ancient figures, but their names
Stand out among the greatest;
This is Lusus,* from whose legendary fame
Our kingdom Lusitania took its name.
3 ‘He was son and companion of Bacchus
Whose conquests took him to so many realms;
He wandered to his Iberian home
In his profession as a soldier;
The fertile lands between Douro and Guadiana,
Then named Elysium,* so pleased him,
He gave his weary bones eternal rest,
And our name as his perpetual bequest.
4 ‘The branch you see him bear as a token
Is the green thyrsus, symbol of Bacchus,
A reminder to our own times
He was his comrade and loved son.
See another figure,* by the Tagus,
Having for so long ploughed the seas;
He is raising time-defying walls,
And a shrine to Pallas memory recalls.
5 ‘This is Ulysses; the altar is sacred
To the goddess who taught him eloquence;
If there in Asia he burned great Troy,
Here in Europe he founded fair Lisbon.’
—‘But who is this other, strewing
The plain with corp
ses in his fury,
Scattering battalions, bearing regal
Standards inscribed with Jupiter’s eagle?’
6 So the Hindu asked. Da Gama replied:
—‘The one you see was once a shepherd;
We know him as Viriathus, and more
Skilled with the lance than the crook;
Ancient Rome’s great reputation
Was tarnished by his conquests.
They could not afford to be so chivalrous
As they managed long ago with King Pyrrhus.
7 ‘Not in battle, but with foul treachery
They killed the man they most feared;
In times of crisis, even men of honour
Will break the laws of chivalry.
Here is another angry with Rome,
Who, in exile, joined us in revolt;
He took our part in choosing to rebel,
But eternity declares he chose well.
8 ‘Watch him at our head, overwhelming
Standards marked with the Roman eagle;
For even then, the most martial peoples
Learned from us the art of defeat.
Observe the subtlety and guile
He used to gain the people’s support,
Consulting a hind gifted in prediction:
He is Sertorius and she his scutcheon.
9 ‘Now regard this banner, and see displayed
Our first king’s great ancestor;
We believe him Hungarian, but others
Claim his birthplace was Lorraine;
Having shamed Galicia and León,
In fighting the Moors, saintly Henrique
Went to the Holy Land on pilgrimage
To bring God’s blessing on his lineage.’
10 —‘Tell me,’ asked the astonished Malabari,
‘Who is this next prodigious figure
Routing so many squadrons, devastating
Such vast armies with so few men?
Razing such rugged battlements,
Never tiring of taking battle
To so many countries, so many towns
And cities, trampling such standards, such crowns!’
11 —‘That is Afonso the First,’ said da Gama,
‘Who seized all Portugal from the Moors,
Of whom Fate herself swore by the Styx
To forget her old favourites of Rome.
He was the zealous one, loved by God,
Who harried the Moors with his mighty arm
Till all their strongholds yielded to defeat,
Leaving nothing for his heirs to complete.
12 ‘Had Caesar, had Alexander commanded
Such small resources, such tiny armies
Against the multitudes put to flight
By this most excellent warrior,
Do you believe their glory would have
Spread so far and endured so long?
But enough of what defies explanation;
His vassals also merit admiration.
13 ‘Such as this one gazing furiously
At his beaten and truculent ward,