No More Learning

And thus, when the assassination of
Gama seemed inevitable, the zamorim suddenly dropped his demand for the
sails and rudders, rescued him from his determined enemies, and restored
him to liberty and the command of his navy.

As soon as he was aboard[60] the goods were landed, accompanied by a
letter from Gama to the zamorim, wherein he boldly complained of the
treachery of the catual. The zamorim, in answer, promised to make
inquiry, and punish him, if guilty; but did nothing in the affair. Gama,
who had now anchored nearer to the city, every day sent two or three
different persons on some business to Calicut, that as many of his men
as possible might be able to give some account of India. The Moors,
meanwhile, every day assaulted the ears of the king, who now began to
waver; when Gama, who had given every proof of his desire of peace and
friendship, sent another letter, in which he requested the zamorim to
permit him to leave a consul at Calicut to manage the affairs of King
Emmanuel. But to this request--the most reasonable result of a
commercial treaty--the zamorim returned a refusal full of rage and
indignation. Gama, now fully master of the character of the zamorim,
resolved to treat a man of such an inconstant, dishonourable disposition
with a contemptuous silence. This contempt was felt by the king, who,
yielding to the advice of the catual and the entreaties of the Moors,
seized the Portuguese goods, and ordered two of the seven hostages--the
two who had the charge of the cargo--to be put in irons. The admiral
remonstrated by means of Monzaida, but the king still persisted in his
treacherous breach of faith. Repeated solicitations made him more
haughty, and it was now the duty and interest of Gama to use force. He
took a vessel, in which were six nayres, or noblemen, and nineteen of
their servants. The servants he set ashore to relate the tidings, the
noblemen he detained. As soon as the news had time to spread through the
city, he hoisted his sails, and, though with a slow motion, seemed to
proceed on his homeward voyage. The city was now in an uproar; the
friends of the captive noblemen surrounded the palace, and loudly
accused the policy of the Moors. The king, in all the perplexed distress
of a haughty, avaricious, weak prince, sent after Gama, delivered up all
the hostages, and submitted to his proposals; nay, even solicited that
an agent should be left, and even descended to the meanness of a
palpable lie. The two factors, he said, he had put in irons, only to
detain them till he might write letters to his brother Emmanuel, and the
goods he had kept on shore that an agent might be sent to dispose of
them. Gama, however, perceived a mysterious trifling, and, previous to
any treaty, insisted upon the restoration of the goods.

The day after this altercation Monzaida came aboard the fleet in great
perturbation. The Moors, he said, had raised great commotions, and had
enraged the king against the Portuguese. The king's ships were getting
ready, and a numerous Moorish fleet from Mecca was daily expected. To
delay Gama till this force arrived was the purpose of the Court and of
the Moors, who were now confident of success. To this information
Monzaida added, that the Moors, suspecting his attachment to Gama, had
determined to assassinate him; that he had narrowly escaped from them;
that it was impossible for him to recover his effects, and that his only
hope was in the protection of Gama. Gama rewarded him with the
friendship he merited, took him with him, as he desired, to Lisbon, and
procured him a recompense for his services.

Almost immediately seven boats arrived loaded with the goods, and
demanded the restoration of the captive noblemen. Gama took the goods on
board, but refused to examine if they were entire, and also refused to
deliver the prisoners. He had been promised an ambassador to his
sovereign, he said, but had been so often deluded he could trust such a
faithless people no longer, and would therefore carry away the captives
to convince the King of Portugal what insults and injustice his
ambassador and admiral had suffered from the Zamorim of Calicut. Having
thus dismissed the Indians, he fired his cannon and hoisted his sails. A
calm, however, detained him on the coast some days; and the zamorim,
seizing the opportunity, sent what vessels he could fit out (sixty in
all), full of armed men, to attack him. Though Gama's cannon were well
handled, confident of their numbers, they pressed on to board him, when
a sudden tempest arose, which Gama's ships rode out in safety, miserably
dispersed the Indian fleet, and completed their ruin.

After this victory the admiral made a halt at a little island near the
shore, where he erected a cross,[61] bearing the name and arms of his
Portuguese majesty. From this place, by the hand of Monzaida, he wrote a
letter to the zamorim, wherein he gave a full and circumstantial account
of all the plots of the catual and the Moors. Still, however, he
professed his desire of a commercial treaty, and promised to represent
the zamorim in the best light to Emmanuel. The prisoners, he said,
should be kindly used, were only kept as ambassadors to his sovereign,
and should be returned to India when they were enabled from experience
to give an account of Portugal. The letter he sent by one of the
captives, who by this means obtained his liberty.

The fame of Gama had now spread over the Indian seas, and the Moors were
everywhere intent on his destruction. As he was near the shore of
Anchediva, he beheld the appearance of a floating isle, covered with
trees, advance towards him. But his prudence was not to be thus
deceived. A bold pirate, named Timoja, by linking together eight vessels
full of men and covered with green boughs, thought to board him by
surprise. But Gama's cannon made seven of them fly; the eighth, loaded
with fruits and provision, he took. The beautiful island of Anchediva
now offered a convenient place to careen his ships and refresh his men.
While he stayed here, the first minister of Zabajo, king of Goa, one of
the most powerful princes of India, came on board, and, in the name of
his master, congratulated the admiral in the Italian tongue. Provisions,
arms, and money were offered to Gama, and he was entreated to accept the
friendship of Zabajo. The admiral was struck with admiration; the
address and abilities of the minister appeared so conspicuous. He said
he was an Italian by birth, but in sailing to Greece, had been taken by
pirates, and after various misfortunes, had been necessitated to enter
into the service of a Mohammedan prince, the nobleness of whose
disposition he commended in the highest terms. Yet, with all his
abilities, Gama perceived an artful inquisitiveness--that nameless
something which does not accompany simple honesty. After a long
conference, Gama abruptly upbraided him as a spy, and ordered him to be
put to the torture. And this soon brought a confession, that he was a
Polish Jew by birth, and was sent to examine the strength of the fleet
by Zabajo, who was mustering all his power to attack the Portuguese.
Gama, on this, immediately set sail, and took the spy along with him,
who soon after was baptized, and named Jasper de Gama, the admiral being
his godfather. He afterwards became of great service to Emmanuel.

Gama now stood westward through the Indian Ocean, and after being long
delayed by calms, arrived off Magadoxa, on the coast of Africa. This
place was a principal port of the Moors; he therefore levelled the walls
of the city with his cannon, and burned and destroyed all the ships in
the harbour. Soon after this he descried eight Moorish vessels bearing
down upon him; his artillery, however, soon made them use their oars in
flight, nor could Gama overtake any of them for want of wind. The
hospitable harbour of Melinda was the next place he reached. His men,
almost worn out with fatigue and sickness, here received a second time
every assistance which an accomplished and generous prince could bestow.
And having taken an ambassador on board, he again set sail, in hope that
he might pass the Cape of Good Hope while the favourable weather
continued; for his acquaintance with the eastern seas now suggested to
him that the tempestuous season was periodical. Soon after he set sail
his brother's ship struck on a sand bank, and was burnt by order of the
admiral. His brother and part of the crew he took into his own ship, the
rest he sent on board of Coello's; nor were more hands now alive than
were necessary to man the two vessels which remained. Having taken in
provisions at the island of Zanzibar (where they were kindly entertained
by a Mohammedan prince of the same sect with the King of Melinda), they
safely doubled the Cape of Good Hope on April 26, 1499, and continued
till they reached the island of St. Iago, in favourable weather. But a
tempest here separated the two ships, and gave Gama and Coello an
opportunity to show the goodness of their hearts in a manner which does
honour to human nature.

The admiral was now near the Azores, when Paulus de Gama, long worn with
fatigue and sickness, was unable to endure the motion of the ship.
Vasco, therefore, put into the island of Tercera, in hope of his
brother's recovery. And such was his affection, that rather than leave
him he gave the command of his ship to one of his officers. But the hope
of recovery was vain. John de Sa proceeded to Lisbon with the flag ship,
while the admiral remained behind to soothe the deathbed of his brother,
and perform his funeral rites. Coello, meanwhile, landed at Lisbon, and
hearing that Gama had not arrived, imagined he might either be
shipwrecked or beating about in distress. Without seeing one of his
family he immediately set sail again, on purpose to bring relief to his
friend and admiral. But this generous design was prevented by an order
from the king, ere he got out of the Tagus.

The particulars of the voyage were now diffused by Coello, and the joy
of the king was only equalled by the admiration of the people. Yet,
while all the nation was fired with zeal to express their esteem of the
happy admiral, he himself, the man who was such an enthusiast to the
success of his voyage that he would willingly have sacrificed his life
in India to secure that success, was now in the completion of it a
dejected mourner. The compliments of the Court, and the shouts of the
street, were irksome to him; for his brother, the companion of his toils
and dangers, was not there to share the joy. As soon as he had waited on
the king, he shut himself up in a lonely house near the seaside at
Belem, from whence it was some time ere he was drawn to mingle in public
life.

During this important expedition, two years and almost two months
elapsed. Of 160 men who went out, only 55 returned. These were all
rewarded by the king. Coello was pensioned with 100 ducats a year, and
made a fidalgo, or gentleman of the king's household, a degree of
nobility in Portugal. The title of Don was annexed to the family of
Vasco de Gama. He was appointed admiral of the eastern seas, with an
annual salary of 3000 ducats, and a part of the king's arms was added to
his. Public thanksgivings to Heaven were celebrated throughout the
churches of the kingdom; while feasts, dramatic performances, and
chivalrous entertainments (or tournaments), according to the taste of
that age, demonstrated the joy of Portugal.

Pedro Alvarez Cabral was the second Portuguese admiral who sailed for
India. He entered into alliance with Trimumpara, king of Cochin, and
high priest of Malabar. (See Bk. x. p. 302. )

Gama, having left six ships for the protection of Cochin and Cananor,
had sailed for Portugal with twelve ships, laden with the riches of the
East. As soon as his departure was made known, the zamorim made great
preparations to attack Cochin--a city situated on an island, divided by
an arm of the sea from the main-land. At one part, however, this creek
was fordable at low water. The zamorim having renewed the war, at
length, by force of numbers and bribery, took the city; and the King of
Cochin, stripped of his dominions, but still faithful to the Portuguese,
fled to the island of Viopia. Francisco Albuquerque, with other
commanders, having heard of the fate of Cochin, set sail for its relief;
the garrison of the zamorim fled, and Trimumpara was restored to his
throne. Every precaution by which the passage to the island of Cochin
might be secured was now taken by Pacheco. The Portuguese took the
sacrament, and devoted themselves to death. The King of Cochin's troops
amounted only to 5000 men, while the army of the zamorim numbered
57,000, provided with brass cannon, and assisted by two Italian
engineers. Yet this immense army, laying siege to Cochin, was defeated.
Seven times the zamorim raised new armies; yet they were all vanquished
at the fords of Cochin, by the intrepidity and stratagems of Pacheco. In
the later battles the zamorim exposed himself to the greatest danger,
and was sometimes sprinkled with the blood of his slain attendants--a
circumstance mentioned in the Lusiad, bk. x. p. 304. He then had
recourse to fraud and poison; but all his attempts were baffled. At
last, in despair, he resigned his throne, and shut himself up for the
rest of his days in one of the temples.

Soon after the kingdom of Cochin was restored to prosperity Pacheco was
recalled. The King of Portugal paid the highest compliments to his
valour, and gave him the government of a possession of the crown in
Africa. But merit always has enemies: Pacheco was accused and brought to
Lisbon in irons, where he remained for a considerable time chained in a
dungeon. He was at length tried, and after a full investigation of the
charges made against him, was honourably acquitted. His services to his
country were soon forgotten, his merits were no longer thought of, and
the unfortunate Pacheco ended his days in an alms-house--a circumstance
referred to in the Lusiad, bk. x. p. 305.




CONTENTS.


BOOK I.
PAGE
Subject proposed 1, 2
Invocation to the Muses of the Tagus 3
Address to Don Sebastian 3, 4
Assembly of the gods and goddesses 8
The fleet enters the Indian Ocean 13
Discovers islands there 13
Description of the natives 14
Intercourse with the ships 15, 16
The governor visits Gama 17, 18
Bacchus determines on obstructing the fleet 20
His stratagem for that purpose 21
Attack by the Portuguese on landing to obtain water 23
Bombardment of the town 24, 25
Another plot of Bacchus 26, 27
The poet's reflections 29


BOOK II.

Treacherous invitation from the King of Mombas for the fleet
to enter the harbour 31
Messengers sent on shore by Gama to look at the town 32, 33
Venus and the Nereids save the fleet from danger 35, 36
Venus appeals to Jupiter on behalf of the expedition 40
His reply 43
Mercury sent to earth 46
His message to Gama in a dream 47
How the vessels escaped 49
They meet two Moorish ships 49
Their account of Melinda and its king 50
Hospitable reception by the King of Melinda 51
Gama's address 52
The king's reply 53, 54
Night rejoicings in the ships and on shore 54, 55
Visit of the king to the fleet 55
Gama's speech 57
The king requests Gama to describe his country and relate its
history 58


BOOK III.

Invocation to Calliope 60
Gama commences his story 61
Geographical description of Europe 62
Ancient history of Portugal commences 66
Fidelity of Egas Moniz 70, 71
Battle of Ourique 72-75
Origin of the Portuguese shield and arms 76
Leiria, Mafra, Cintra, Lisbon, etc. 76-78
Palmella, etc. , taken from the Moors 79
Alphonso at war with the Leonese 79, 80
Gathering of the Moors to invest Santarem 81
Defeated by the Portuguese 83
Death of Alphonso 83
Don Sancho besieges Sylves 84
Character of Sancho II. 85
" " King Dionis 87
" " Alphonso IV. 87
The Moors assemble again to invade Portugal 88
The Queen of Spain asks aid from her father, the King of
Portugal 88
The two allied sovereigns defeat the Moors 90
Episode of Inez de Castro, or the "Fair Inez" 92-96
Character of King Ferdinand 100


BOOK IV.

State of Portugal on the death of Ferdinand 103
King John succeeds to the throne 103
Character of Queen Leonora 104
Castitlians assemble in aid of Beatrice, daughter of Leonora 106
Don Nuno Alvarez's loyalty 107
Battle between the Portuguese and Castilians 113
The latter defeated 116, 117
Alphonso, after defeating the Moors, attacks the King of
Arragon 117
Alphonso dies, and is succeeded by John II. 118
King John sends to explore the East by land 122
Emmanuel succeeds; his dream of the rivers Ganges and Indus 123
The king consults his council 125
Entrusts the expedition to Vasco de Gama 125
Vasco de Gama's preparations 127
Parting of the armada with their friends 129
The old man's farewell address 130


BOOK V.

Departure of the fleet from Lisbon 133
Madeira, Coast of Morocco, the Azenegues 134
The river Senegal, Cape Verde, San Jago, Jalofo, Mandinga 135
Dorcades, Sierra Leone, Cape Palmas 136
St. Thomas, Congo, the river Zaire 137
A water-spout described 139
They land near the Tropic of Capricorn 141
A native African met with 141
Veloso's adventure on shore 142
Gigantic vision of the Cape 146
The armada lands at Sao Braz 153
Currents encountered 155
The armada touches at Natal 155
Reaches Sofala; description of the inhabitants 157
The crews attacked by scurvy 158
Vasco de Gama compares his voyage with the narratives of
ancient poets, and concludes his story 159
Reflections on the subject by the poet 161, 162


BOOK VI.

Hospitality of the King of Melinda 164
Gama takes his leave 166
Bacchus descends to Neptune's abode 166
Description thereof 167
The sea-gods assembled by Neptune. Bacchus' address to
Neptune and the other sea-gods 169
Neptune orders AEolus to let loose the winds on the Portuguese
fleet 173
The fleet on a tranquil sea 174
Veloso, to pass the time away, relates the story of a
tournament in England 175
A dark cloud comes over, and the storm arises 183
Venus, the morning star, appears, and the goddess calls the
Nereids to her aid 188
Orithya, Galatea, and other sea-nymphs persuade Boreas to cease
his blustering 189
Morning appears, and with it the mountain-tops of the
Indian coast 190
Gama returns thanks to God 190
The poet's reflections 190, 191


BOOK VII.

The Portuguese exhorted to the warfare of the cross, other
nations being reproved 193-197
India described 198
The fleet anchors, and a message is sent on shore 198
Meeting with Mozaide, who speaks Spanish 199
Mozaide visits Gama, and describes the country 200
Gama goes on shore 209
Enters with the kotwal into an Indian temple 209
Gama's interview with the Indian king 213
His speech 214
The king's reply 215
Mozaide's description of the Portuguese 216
Visit of the kotwal to the ships 217
The poet invokes the nymphs of the Tagus, and briefly
describes his own shipwreck and other misfortunes 218-221


BOOK VIII.

Description of the pictures 222
Bacchus appears as Mohammed, to a priest in a dream 238
The king consults with the magi and the soothsayers 240
The priest consults his friends 241
How evil counsellors mislead kings 242
The king's defiant speech and base accusation 244
Gama's answer to the king 245-247
Gama detained prisoner in the kotwal's house 250


BOOK IX.

The king visits the house of the kotwal 252
Addresses Gama, detained as a prisoner there 252
On what conditions he may be allowed to return to his fleet 253
Gama's indignant reply 253, 254
The king orders the signal to be given 254
The Moorish vessels surround the fleet, and attack it with
clouds of arrows 255
The drums and trumpets of the fleet call to action 255
Destruction of the Moorish vessels by the cannon of the ships 256
Bombardment of Calicut by the fleet 257
The terrified multitude implores the king to release
his prisoner 258
The king implores Gama to spare his city and people 258
Gama's dignified reply 258
The terms offered by the king rejected by Gama 259
Gama directs the king to hoist the Portuguese flag and
convey him to his ships 260
Peace restored. Presents of Indian productions 261
Mozaide had discovered to Gama the intended treachery 261
Conversion to Christianity of Mozaide 262
Return of the fleet to Portugal with the hostages 262
Venus raises the Island of Love in the sea, to afford
the sailors a resting-place. She summons the Nereids,
and informs them of her intentions. Seeks her son, Cupid 264
Cupid discharges the arrows of love at the sea-nymphs 269-271
Approach of the Portuguese fleet 273
The Island of Love described 274-280
The sailors land and pursue the nymphs 280-288
Tethys leads Gama to a palace on a lofty hill 289
The allegory explained 290


BOOK X.

Happiness of the heroes and nymphs 299
The poet apostrophizes his muse and bewails his own fate 301, 302
The siren's prophetic song 302
She pauses to reflect on the ill-requited bravery of
Pacheco 305
The siren resumes her prophetic song 305
Foretells the needless cruelty of Albuquerque, who puts to
death a soldier for a venial offence 310, 311
Soarez, Sequeyra, Menez, Mascarene, Nunio, Noronha, Souza,
and other heroes 312-318
The nymph Tethys leads them to the summit of a rugged
hill, where the globe in miniature is displayed
before them 319
The Ptolemean system described 320
Sketch of the geography of the world 325
History of St. Thomas, the Apostle of India 331-335
Geographical description continued 337-353
Tethys bids the Portuguese farewell 353
Their return home and reception at Lisbon 356
The poet's conclusion, and patriotic exhortation to
his sovereign 356, 357




THE LUSIAD. [62]




BOOK I.

ARGUMENT.

Statement of the subject. Invocation to the muses of the Tagus. Herald
calls an assembly of the gods. Jupiter foretells the future conquests of
the Portuguese. Bacchus, apprehensive that the Portuguese may eclipse
the glory acquired by himself in the conquest of India, declares against
them. Venus, who sees in the Portuguese her ancient Romans, promises to
aid their enterprise. Mars induces Jupiter to support them, and Mercury
is sent to direct their course. Gama, commander of the expedition, lands
at Mozambique and Mombas. Opposition of the Moors, instigated by
Bacchus. They grant Gama a pilot who designs treacherously to take them
to Quiloa to ensure the destruction of the whole expedition.


Arms and the Heroes, who from Lisbon's shore,
Thro' seas[63] where sail was never spread before,
Beyond where Ceylon lifts her spicy breast,
And waves her woods above the wat'ry waste,
With prowess more than human forc'd their way
To the fair kingdoms of the rising day:
What wars they wag'd, what seas, what dangers pass'd,
What glorious empire crown'd their toils at last,
Vent'rous I sing, on soaring pinions borne,
And all my country's wars[64] the song adorn;
What kings, what heroes of my native land
Thunder'd on Asia's and on Afric's strand:
Illustrious shades, who levell'd in the dust
The idol-temples and the shrines of lust:
And where, erewhile, foul demons were rever'd,
To Holy Faith unnumber'd altars rear'd:[65]
Illustrious names, with deathless laurels crown'd,
While time rolls on in every clime renown'd!

Let Fame with wonder name the Greek[66] no more,
What lands he saw, what toils at sea he bore;
Nor more the Trojan's wand'ring[67] voyage boast,
What storms he brav'd on many a perilous coast:
No more let Rome exult in Trajan's name,
Nor Eastern conquests Ammon's[68] pride proclaim;
A nobler hero's deeds demand my lays
Than e'er adorn'd the song of ancient days,
Illustrious GAMA,[69] whom the waves obey'd,
And whose dread sword the fate of empire sway'd.

And you, fair nymphs of Tagus, parent stream,
If e'er your meadows were my pastoral theme,
While you have listen'd, and by moonshine seen
My footsteps wander o'er your banks of green,
O come auspicious, and the song inspire
With all the boldness of your hero's fire:
Deep and majestic let the numbers flow,
And, rapt to heaven, with ardent fury glow,
Unlike the verse that speaks the lover's grief,
When heaving sighs afford their soft relief,
And humble reeds bewail the shepherd's pain;
But like the warlike trumpet be the strain
To rouse the hero's ire, and far around,
With equal rage, your warriors' deeds resound.

And thou,[70] O born the pledge of happier days,
To guard our freedom and our glories raise,
Given to the world to spread Religion's sway,
And pour o'er many a land the mental day,
Thy future honours on thy shield behold,
The cross and victor's wreath emboss'd in gold:
At thy commanding frown we trust to see,
The Turk and Arab bend the suppliant knee:
Beneath the morn,[71] dread king, thine empire lies,
When midnight veils thy Lusitanian[72] skies;
And when, descending in the western main,
The sun[73] still rises on thy length'ning reign:
Thou blooming scion of the noblest stem,
Our nation's safety, and our age's gem,
O young Sebastian, hasten to the prime
Of manly youth, to Fame's high temple climb:
Yet now attentive hear the Muse's lay
While thy green years to manhood speed away:
The youthful terrors of thy brow suspend,
And, oh, propitious to the song attend--
The num'rous song, by patriot-passion fir'd,
And by the glories of thy race inspir'd:
To be the herald of my country's fame
My first ambition and my dearest aim:
Nor conquests fabulous nor actions vain,
The Muse's pastime, here adorn the strain:
Orlando's fury, and Rugero's rage,
And all the heroes of th' Aonian page,[74]
The dreams of bards surpass'd the world shall view,
And own their boldest fictions may be true;
Surpass'd and dimm'd by the superior blaze
Of GAMA'S mighty deeds, which here bright Truth displays.
Nor more let History boast her heroes old,
Their glorious rivals here, dread prince, behold:
Here shine the valiant Nunio's deeds unfeign'd,
Whose single arm the falling state sustain'd;
Here fearless Egas' wars, and, Fuas, thine,
To give full ardour to the song combine;
But ardour equal to your martial ire
Demands the thund'ring sounds of Homer's lyre.
To match the Twelve so long by bards renown'd,[75]
Here brave Magricio and his peers are crown'd
(A glorious Twelve! ) with deathless laurels, won
In gallant arms before the English throne.
Unmatch'd no more the Gallic Charles shall stand,
Nor Caesar's name the first of praise command:
Of nobler acts the crown'd Alonzo[76] see,
Thy valiant sires, to whom the bended knee
Of vanquish'd Afric bow'd. Nor less in fame,
He who confin'd the rage of civil flame,
The godlike John, beneath whose awful sword
Rebellion crouch'd, and trembling own'd him lord
Those heroes, too, who thy bold flag unfurl'd,
And spread thy banners o'er the Eastern world,
Whose spears subdu'd the kingdoms of the morn,
Their names and glorious wars the song adorn:
The daring GAMA, whose unequall'd name
(Proud monarch) shines o'er all of naval fame:
Castro the bold, in arms a peerless knight,
And stern Pacheco, dreadful in the fight:
The two Almeydas, names for ever dear,
By Tago's nymphs embalm'd with many a tear;
Ah, still their early fate the nymphs shall mourn,
And bathe with many a tear their hapless urn:
Nor shall the godlike Albuquerque restrain
The Muse's fury; o'er the purpled plain
The Muse shall lead him in his thund'ring car
Amidst his glorious brothers of the war,
Whose fame in arms resounds from sky to sky,
And bids their deeds the power of death defy.
And while, to thee, I tune the duteous lay,
Assume, O potent king, thine empire's sway;
With thy brave host through Afric march along,
And give new triumphs to immortal song:
On thee with earnest eyes the nations wait,
And, cold with dread, the Moor expects his fate;
The barb'rous mountaineer on Taurus' brows
To thy expected yoke his shoulder bows;
Fair Thetis woos thee with her blue domain,
Her nuptial son, and fondly yields her reign,
And from the bow'rs of heav'n thy grandsires[77] see
Their various virtues bloom afresh in thee;
One for the joyful days of peace renown'd,
And one with war's triumphant laurels crown'd:
With joyful hands, to deck thy manly brow,
They twine the laurel and the olive-bough;
With joyful eyes a glorious throne they see,
In Fame's eternal dome, reserv'd for thee.
Yet, while thy youthful hand delays to wield
The sceptre'd power, or thunder of the field,
Here view thine Argonauts, in seas unknown,
And all the terrors of the burning zone,
Till their proud standards, rear'd in other skies,
And all their conquests meet thy wond'ring[78] eyes.

Now, far from land, o'er Neptune's dread abode
The Lusitanian fleet triumphant rode;
Onward they traced the wide and lonesome main,
Where changeful Proteus leads his scaly train;
The dancing vanes before the zephyrs flow'd,
And their bold keels the trackless ocean plough'd;
Unplough'd before, the green-ting'd billows rose,
And curl'd and whiten'd round the nodding prows.
When Jove, the god who with a thought controls
The raging seas, and balances the poles,
From heav'n beheld, and will'd, in sov'reign state,
To fix the Eastern World's depending fate,
Swift at his nod th' Olympian herald flies,
And calls th' immortal senate of the skies;
Where, from the sov'reign throne of earth and heav'n,
Th' immutable decrees of fate are given.
Instant the regents of the spheres of light,
And those who rule the paler orbs of night,
With those, the gods whose delegated sway
The burning South and frozen North obey;
And they whose empires see the day-star rise,
And evening Phoebus leave the western skies,
All instant pour'd along the milky road,
Heaven's crystal pavements glitt'ring as they trod:
And now, obedient to the dread command,
Before their awful lord in order stand.

Sublime and dreadful on his regal throne,
That glow'd with stars, and bright as lightning shone,
Th' immortal Sire, who darts the thunder, sat,
The crown and sceptre added solemn state;
The crown, of heaven's own pearls, whose ardent rays,
Flam'd round his brows, outshone the diamond's blaze:
His breath such gales of vital fragrance shed,
As might, with sudden life, inspire the dead:
Supreme Control thron'd in his awful eyes
Appear'd, and mark'd the monarch of the skies.
On seats that burn'd with pearl and ruddy gold,
The subject gods their sov'reign lord enfold,
Each in his rank, when with a voice that shook
The tow'rs of heav'n, the world's dread ruler spoke:

"Immortal heirs of light, my purpose hear,
My counsels ponder, and the Fates revere:
Unless Oblivion o'er your minds has thrown
Her dark blank shades, to you, ye gods, are known
The Fate's decree, and ancient warlike fame
Of that bold race which boasts of Lusus' name;
That bold advent'rous race, the Fates declare,
A potent empire in the East shall rear,
Surpassing Babel's or the Persian fame,
Proud Grecia's boast, or Rome's illustrious name.
Oft from these brilliant seats have you beheld
The sons of Lusus on the dusty field,
Though few, triumphant o'er the num'rous Moors,
Till, from the beauteous lawns on Tagus' shores
They drove the cruel foe. And oft has heav'n
Before their troops the proud Castilians driv'n;
While Victory her eagle-wings display'd
Where'er their warriors wav'd the shining blade,
Nor rests unknown how Lusus' heroes stood
When Rome's ambition dyed the world with blood;
What glorious laurels Viriatus[79] gain'd,
How oft his sword with Roman gore was stain'd;
And what fair palms their martial ardour crown'd,
When led to battle by the chief renown'd,
Who[80] feign'd a daemon, in a deer conceal'd,
To him the counsels of the gods reveal'd.
And now, ambitious to extend their sway
Beyond their conquests on the southmost bay
Of Afric's swarthy coast, on floating wood
They brave the terrors of the dreary flood,
Where only black-wing'd mists have hover'd o'er,
Or driving clouds have sail'd the wave before;
Beneath new skies they hold their dreadful way
To reach the cradle of the new-born day:
And Fate, whose mandates unrevok'd remain,
Has will'd that long shall Lusus' offspring reign
The lords of that wide sea, whose waves behold
The sun come forth enthron'd in burning gold.
But now, the tedious length of winter past,
Distress'd and weak, the heroes faint at last.
What gulfs they dar'd, you saw, what storms they brav'd,
Beneath what various heav'ns their banners wav'd!
Now Mercy pleads, and soon the rising land
To their glad eyes shall o'er the waves expand;
As welcome friends the natives shall receive,
With bounty feast them, and with joy relieve.
And, when refreshment shall their strength renew,
Thence shall they turn, and their bold route pursue. "

So spoke high Jove: the gods in silence heard,
Then rising, each by turns his thoughts preferr'd:
But chief was Bacchus of the adverse train;
Fearful he was, nor fear'd his pride in vain,
Should Lusus' race arrive on India's shore,
His ancient honours would be known no more;
No more in Nysa[81] should the native tell
What kings, what mighty hosts before him fell.
The fertile vales beneath the rising sun
He view'd as his, by right of victory won,
And deem'd that ever in immortal song
The Conqueror's title should to him belong.
Yet Fate, he knew, had will'd, that loos'd from Spain
Boldly advent'rous thro' the polar main,
A warlike race should come, renown'd in arms,
And shake the eastern world with war's alarms,
Whose glorious conquests and eternal fame
In black Oblivion's waves should whelm his name.

Urania-Venus,[82] queen of sacred love,
Arose and fixed her asking eyes on Jove;
Her eyes, well pleas'd, in Lusus' sons could trace
A kindred likeness to the Roman race,
For whom of old such kind regard she bore;[83]
The same their triumphs on Barbaria's shore,
The same the ardour of their warlike flame,
The manly music of their tongue the same:[84]
Affection thus the lovely goddess sway'd,
Nor less what Fate's unblotted page display'd,
Where'er this people should their empire raise,
She knew her altars would unnumber'd blaze,
And barb'rous nations at her holy shrine
Be humaniz'd and taught her lore divine.
Her spreading honours thus the one inspir'd,
And one the dread to lose his worship fir'd.
Their struggling factions shook th' Olympian state
With all the clam'rous tempest of debate.
Thus, when the storm with sudden gust invades
The ancient forest's deep and lofty shades,
The bursting whirlwinds tear their rapid course,
The shatter'd oaks crash, and with echoes hoarse
The mountains groan, while whirling on the blast
The thick'ning leaves a gloomy darkness cast;
Such was the tumult in the blest abodes,
When Mars, high tow'ring o'er the rival gods,
Stepp'd forth: stern sparkles from his eye-balls glanc'd,
And now, before the throne of Jove advanc'd,
O'er his left shoulder his broad shield he throws,
And lifts his helm[85] above his dreadful brows:
Bold and enrag'd he stands, and, frowning round,
Strikes his tall spear-staff on the sounding ground;
Heav'n trembled, and the light turn'd pale[86]--such dread
His fierce demeanour o'er Olympus spread--
When thus the warrior: "O Eternal Sire,
Thine is the sceptre, thine the thunder's fire,
Supreme dominion thine; then, Father, hear,
Shall that bold race which once to thee was dear,
Who, now fulfilling thy decrees of old,
Through these wild waves their fearless journey hold,
Shall that bold race no more thy care engage,
But sink the victims of unhallow'd rage!
Did Bacchus yield to Reason's voice divine,
Bacchus the cause of Lusus' sons would join,
Lusus, the lov'd companion of his cares,
His earthly toils, his dangers, and his wars:
But envy still a foe to worth will prove,
To worth, though guarded by the arm of Jove.

"Then thou, dread Lord of Fate, unmov'd remain,
Nor let weak change thine awful counsels stain,
For Lusus' race thy promis'd favour show;
Swift as the arrow from Apollo's bow
Let Maia's[87] son explore the wat'ry way,
Where, spent with toil, with weary hopes, they stray;
And safe to harbour, through the deep untried,
Let him, empower'd, their wand'ring vessels guide;
There let them hear of India's wish'd-for shore,
And balmy rest their fainting strength restore. "

He spoke: high Jove assenting bow'd the head,
And floating clouds of nectar'd fragrance shed:
Then, lowly bending to th' Eternal Sire,
Each in his duteous rank, the gods retire.

Whilst thus in heaven's bright palace fate was weigh'd
Right onward still the brave Armada strayed:
Right on they steer by Ethiopia's strand
And pastoral Madagascar's[88] verdant land.
Before the balmy gales of cheerful spring,
With heav'n their friend, they spread the canvas wing,
The sky cerulean, and the breathing air,
The lasting promise of a calm declare.
Behind them now the Cape of Praso[89] bends,
Another ocean to their view extends,
Where black-topp'd islands, to their longing eyes,
Lav'd by the gentle waves,[90] in prospect rise.
But GAMA (captain of the vent'rous band,
Of bold emprize, and born for high command,
Whose martial fires, with prudence close allied,
Ensur'd the smiles of fortune on his side)
Bears off those shores which waste and wild appear'd,
And eastward still for happier climates steer'd:
When gath'ring round, and black'ning o'er the tide,
A fleet of small canoes the pilot spied;
Hoisting their sails of palm-tree leaves, inwove
With curious art, a swarming crowd they move:
Long were their boats, and sharp to bound along
Through the dash'd waters, broad their oars and strong:
The bending rowers on their features bore
The swarthy marks of Phaeton's[91] fall of yore:
When flaming lightnings scorch'd the banks of Po,
And nations blacken'd in the dread o'erthrow.
Their garb, discover'd as approaching nigh,
Was cotton strip'd with many a gaudy dye:
'Twas one whole piece beneath one arm confin'd,
The rest hung loose and flutter'd on the wind;
All, but one breast, above the loins was bare,
And swelling turbans bound their jetty hair:
Their arms were bearded darts and faulchions broad,
And warlike music sounded as they row'd.
With joy the sailors saw the boats draw near,
With joy beheld the human face appear:
What nations these, their wond'ring thoughts explore,
What rites they follow, and what God adore!
And now with hands and 'kerchiefs wav'd in air
The barb'rous race their friendly mind declare.
Glad were the crew, and ween'd that happy day
Should end their dangers and their toils repay.
The lofty masts the nimble youths ascend,
The ropes they haul, and o'er the yard-arms bend;
And now their bowsprits pointing to the shore,
(A safe moon'd bay), with slacken'd sails they bore:
With cheerful shouts they furl the gather'd sail
That less and less flaps quiv'ring on the gale;
The prows, their speed stopp'd, o'er the surges nod,
The falling anchors dash the foaming flood;
When, sudden as they stopp'd, the swarthy race,
With smiles of friendly welcome on each face,
The ship's high sides swift by the cordage climb:
Illustrious GAMA, with an air sublime,
Soften'd by mild humanity, receives,
And to their chief the hand of friendship gives,
Bids spread the board, and, instant as he said,
Along the deck the festive board is spread:
The sparkling wine in crystal goblets glows,
And round and round with cheerful welcome flows.
While thus the vine its sprightly glee inspires,
From whence the fleet, the swarthy chief enquires,
What seas they past, what 'vantage would attain,
And what the shore their purpose hop'd to gain?
"From farthest west," the Lusian race reply,
"To reach the golden Eastern shores we try.
Through that unbounded sea whose billows roll
From the cold northern to the southern pole;
And by the wide extent, the dreary vast
Of Afric's bays, already have we past;
And many a sky have seen, and many a shore,
Where but sea monsters cut the waves before.
To spread the glories of our monarch's reign,
For India's shore we brave the trackless main,
Our glorious toil, and at his nod would brave
The dismal gulfs of Acheron's[92] black wave.
And now, in turn, your race, your country tell,
If on your lips fair truth delights to dwell
To us, unconscious of the falsehood, show
What of these seas and India's site you know. "

"Rude are the natives here," the Moor replied;
"Dark are their minds, and brute-desire their guide:
But we, of alien blood, and strangers here,
Nor hold their customs nor their laws revere.
From Abram's race our holy prophet sprung,[93]
An angel taught, and heaven inspir'd his tongue;
His sacred rites and mandates we obey,
And distant empires own his holy sway.
From isle to isle our trading vessels roam,
Mozambique's harbour our commodious home.
If then your sails for India's shore expand,
For sultry Ganges or Hydaspes'[94] strand,
Here shall you find a pilot skill'd to guide
Through all the dangers of the perilous tide,
Though wide-spread shelves, and cruel rocks unseen,
Lurk in the way, and whirlpools rage between.
Accept, meanwhile, what fruits these islands hold,
And to the regent let your wish be told.
Then may your mates the needful stores provide,
And all your various wants be here supplied. "

So spake the Moor, and bearing smiles untrue
And signs of friendship, with his bands withdrew.
O'erpower'd with joy unhop'd the sailors stood,
To find such kindness on a shore so rude.

Now shooting o'er the flood his fervid blaze,
The red-brow'd sun withdraws his beamy rays;
Safe in the bay the crew forget their cares,
And peaceful rest their wearied strength repairs.
Calm twilight now[95] his drowsy mantle spreads,
And shade on shade, the gloom still deep'ning, sheds.
The moon, full orb'd, forsakes her wat'ry cave,
And lifts her lovely head above the wave.
The snowy splendours of her modest ray
Stream o'er the glist'ning waves, and quiv'ring play:
Around her, glitt'ring on the heaven's arch'd brow,
Unnumber'd stars, enclos'd in azure, glow,
Thick as the dew-drops of the April dawn,
Or May-flowers crowding o'er the daisy-lawn:
The canvas whitens in the silvery beam,
And with a mild pale red the pendants gleam:
The masts' tall shadows tremble o'er the deep;
The peaceful winds a holy silence keep;
The watchman's carol, echo'd from the prows,
Alone, at times, awakes the still repose.

Aurora now, with dewy lustre bright,
Appears, ascending on the rear of night.
With gentle hand, as seeming oft to pause,
The purple curtains of the morn she draws;
The sun comes forth, and soon the joyful crew,
Each aiding each, their joyful tasks pursue.
Wide o'er the decks the spreading sails they throw;
From each tall mast the waving streamers flow;
All seems a festive holiday on board
To welcome to the fleet the island's lord.
With equal joy the regent sails to meet,
And brings fresh cates, his off'rings, to the fleet:
For of his kindred race their line he deems,
That savage race[96] who rush'd from Caspia's streams,
And triumph'd o'er the East, and, Asia won,
In proud Byzantium[97] fix'd their haughty throne.
Brave VASCO hails the chief with honest smiles,
And gift for gift with liberal hand he piles.
His gifts, the boast of Europe's heart disclose,
And sparkling red the wine of Tagus flows.
High on the shrouds the wond'ring sailors hung,
To note the Moorish garb, and barb'rous tongue:
Nor less the subtle Moor, with wonder fir'd,
Their mien, their dress, and lordly ships admir'd:
Much he enquires their king's, their country's name,
And, if from Turkey's fertile shores they came?
What God they worshipp'd, what their sacred lore,
What arms they wielded, and what armour wore?
To whom brave GAMA: "Nor of Hagar's blood
Am I, nor plough from Ismael's shores the flood;
From Europe's strand I trace the foamy way,
To find the regions of the infant day.
The God we worship stretch'd yon heaven's high bow,
And gave these swelling waves to roll below;
The hemispheres of night and day He spread,
He scoop'd each vale, and rear'd each mountain's head;
His Word produc'd the nations of the earth,
And gave the spirits of the sky their birth;
On earth, by Him, his holy lore was given,
On earth He came to raise mankind to heaven.
And now behold, what most your eyes desire,
Our shining armour, and our arms of fire;
For who has once in friendly peace beheld,
Will dread to meet them on the battle field. "

Straight as he spoke[98] the warlike stores display'd
Their glorious show, where, tire on tire inlaid,
Appear'd of glitt'ring steel the carabines,
There the plum'd helms,[99] and pond'rous brigandines;[100]
O'er the broad bucklers sculptur'd orbs emboss'd
The crooked faulchions, dreadful blades were cross'd:
Here clasping greaves, and plated mail-quilts strong;
The long-bows here, and rattling quivers hung,
And like a grove the burnish'd spears were seen,
With darts and halberts double-edged between;
Here dread grenadoes and tremendous bombs,
With deaths ten thousand lurking in their wombs,
And far around, of brown and dusky red,
The pointed piles of iron balls were spread.
The bombardiers, now to the regent's view
The thund'ring mortars and the cannon drew;
Yet, at their leader's nod, the sons of flame
(For brave and gen'rous ever are the same)
Withheld their hands, nor gave the seeds of fire
To rouse the thunders of the dreadful tire.
For GAMA'S soul disdain'd the pride of show
Which acts the lion o'er the trembling roe.

His joy and wonder oft the Moor express'd,
But rankling hate lay brooding in his breast;
With smiles obedient to his will's control,
He veils the purpose of his treach'rous soul:
For pilots, conscious of the Indian strand,
Brave VASCO sues, and bids the Moor command
What bounteous gifts shall recompense their toils;
The Moor prevents him with assenting smiles,
Resolved that deeds of death, not words of air,
Shall first the hatred of his soul declare;
Such sudden rage his rankling mind possess'd,
When GAMA'S lips Messiah's name confess'd. [101]
Oh depth of Heaven's dread will, that ranc'rous hate
On Heaven's best lov'd in ev'ry clime should wait!
Now, smiling round on all the wond'ring crew
The Moor, attended by his bands, withdrew;
His nimble barges soon approach'd the land,
And shouts of joy receiv'd him on the strand.

From heaven's high dome the vintage-god[102] beheld
(Whom nine long months his father's thigh conceal'd);[103]
Well pleas'd he mark'd the Moor's determin'd hate
And thus his mind revolv'd in self-debate:--

"Has Heaven, indeed, such glorious lot ordain'd,
By Lusus' race such conquests to be gain'd
O'er warlike nations, and on India's shore,
Where I, unrivall'd, claim'd the palm before?
I, sprung from Jove! And shall these wand'ring few,
What Ammon's son[104] unconquer'd left, subdue
Ammon's brave son who led the god of war
His slave auxiliar at his thund'ring car?
Must these possess what Jove to him denied,
Possess what never sooth'd the Roman pride?
Must these the victor's lordly flag display
With hateful blaze beneath the rising day,
My name dishonour'd, and my victories stain'd,
O'erturn'd my altars, and my shrines profan'd?
No; be it mine to fan the Regent's hate;
Occasion seiz'd commands the action's fate.
'Tis mine--this captain, now my dread no more,
Shall never shake his spear on India's shore. "

So spake the Power,[105] and with the lightning's flight
For Afric darted thro' the fields of light.
His form divine he cloth'd in human shape,[106]
And rush'd impetuous o'er the rocky cape:
In the dark semblance of a Moor he came
For art and old experience known to fame:
Him all his peers with humble deference heard,
And all Mozambique and its prince rever'd:
The prince in haste he sought, and thus express'd
His guileful hate in friendly counsel dress'd:

"And to the regent of this isle alone
Are these adventurers and their fraud unknown?
Has Fame conceal'd their rapine from his ear?
Nor brought the groans of plunder'd nations here?
Yet still their hands the peaceful olive bore
Whene'er they anchor'd on a foreign shore:
But nor their seeming nor their oaths I trust,
For Afric knows them bloody and unjust.
The nations sink beneath their lawless force,
And fire and blood have mark'd their deadly course.
We too, unless kind Heav'n and thou prevent,
Must fall the victims of their dire intent,
And, gasping in the pangs of death, behold
Our wives led captive, and our daughters sold.
By stealth they come, ere morrow dawn, to bring
The healthful bev'rage from the living spring:
Arm'd with his troops the captain will appear;
For conscious fraud is ever prone to fear.
To meet them there select a trusty band,
And, in close ambush, take thy silent stand;
There wait, and sudden on the heedless foe
Rush, and destroy them ere they dread the blow.
Or say, should some escape the secret snare,
Saved by their fate, their valour, or their care,
Yet their dread fall shall celebrate our isle,
If Fate consent, and thou approve the guile.
Give then a pilot to their wand'ring fleet,
Bold in his art, and tutor'd in deceit;
Whose hand advent'rous shall their helms misguide,
To hostile shores, or whelm them in the tide. "

So spoke the god, in semblance of a sage
Renown'd for counsel and the craft of age.
The prince with transport glowing in his face
Approv'd, and caught him in a kind embrace:
And instant at the word his bands prepare
Their bearded darts and implements of war,
That Lusus' sons might purple with their gore
The crystal fountain which they sought on shore:
And, still regardful of his dire intent,
A skilful pilot to the bay he sent,
Of honest mien, yet practised in deceit,
Who far at distance on the beach should wait,
And to the 'scaped, if some should 'scape the snare
Should offer friendship and the pilot's care,
But when at sea, on rocks should dash their pride,
And whelm their lofty vanes beneath the tide.

Apollo[107] now had left his wat'ry bed,
And o'er the mountains of Arabia spread
His rays that glow'd with gold; when GAMA rose,
And from his bands a trusty squadron chose:
Three speedy barges brought their casks to fill
From gurgling fountain, or the crystal rill:
Full arm'd they came, for brave defence prepar'd,
For martial care is ever on the guard:
And secret warnings ever are imprest
On wisdom such as wak'd in GAMA'S breast.

And now, as swiftly springing o'er the tide
Advanc'd the boats, a troop of Moors they spied;
O'er the pale sands the sable warriors crowd,
And toss their threat'ning darts, and shout aloud.
Yet seeming artless, though they dar'd the fight,
Their eager hope they plac'd in artful flight,
To lead brave GAMA where, unseen by day,
In dark-brow'd shades their silent ambush lay.
With scornful gestures o'er the beach they stride,
And push their levell'd spears with barb'rous pride,
Then fix the arrow to the bended bow,
And strike their sounding shields, and dare the foe.
With gen'rous rage the Lusian race beheld,
And each brave breast with indignation swell'd,
To view such foes, like snarling dogs, display
Their threat'ning tusks, and brave the sanguine fray:
Together with a bound they spring to land,
Unknown whose step first trod the hostile strand.

Thus, when to gain his beauteous charmer's smile,
The youthful lover dares the bloody toil,[108]
Before the nodding bull's stern front he stands,
He leaps, he wheels, he shouts, and waves his hands:
The lordly brute disdains the stripling's rage,
His nostrils smoke, and, eager to engage,
His horned brows he levels with the ground,
And shuts his flaming eyes, and wheeling round
With dreadful bellowing rushes on the foe,
And lays the boastful gaudy champion low.
Thus to the sight the sons of Lusus sprung,
Nor slow to fall their ample vengeance hung:
With sudden roar the carabines resound,
And bursting echoes from the hills rebound;
The lead flies hissing through the trembling air,
And death's fell daemons through the flashes glare.
Where, up the land, a grove of palms enclose,
And cast their shadows where the fountain flows,
The lurking ambush from their treach'rous stand
Beheld the combat burning on the strand:
They see the flash with sudden lightnings flare,
And the blue smoke slow rolling on the air:
They see their warriors drop, and starting hear
The ling'ring thunders bursting on their ear.
Amaz'd, appall'd, the treach'rous ambush fled,
And rag'd,[109] and curs'd their birth, and quak'd with dread.
The bands that vaunting show'd their threaten'd might,
With slaughter gor'd, precipitate in flight;
Yet oft, though trembling, on the foe they turn
Their eyes that red with lust of vengeance burn:
Aghast with fear, and stern with desperate rage
The flying war with dreadful howls they wage,
Flints, clods, and javelins hurling as they fly,
As rage[110] and wild despair their hands supply:
And, soon dispers'd, their bands attempt no more
To guard the fountain or defend the shore:
O'er the wide lawns no more their troops appear:
Nor sleeps the vengeance of the victor here;
To teach the nations what tremendous fate
_From his right arm on perjur'd vows should wait,
He seized the time to awe the Eastern world,
And on the breach of faith his thunders hurl'd.
From his black ships the sudden lightnings blaze,
And o'er old Ocean flash their dreadful rays:
White clouds on clouds inroll'd the smoke ascends,
The bursting tumult heaven's wide concave rends:
The bays and caverns of the winding shore
Repeat the cannon's and the mortar's roar:
The bombs, far-flaming, hiss along the sky,
And, whirring through the air, the bullets fly;
The wounded air, with hollow deafen'd sound,
Groans to the direful strife, and trembles round. _

_Now from the Moorish town the sheets of fire,
Wide blaze succeeding blaze, to heaven aspire.
Black rise the clouds of smoke, and by the gales
Borne down, in streams hang hov'ring o'er the vales;
And slowly floating round the mountain's head
Their pitchy mantle o'er the landscape spread.
Unnumber'd sea-fowl rising from the shore,
Beat round in whirls at every cannon's roar;
Where o'er the smoke the masts' tall heads appear,
Hov'ring they scream, then dart with sudden fear;
On trembling wings far round and round they fly,
And fill with dismal clang their native sky.
Thus fled in rout confus'd the treach'rous Moors
From field to field_,[111] then, hast'ning to the shores,
Some trust in boats their wealth and lives to save,
And, wild with dread, they plunge into the wave;
Some spread their arms to swim, and some beneath
The whelming billows, struggling, pant for breath,
Then whirl'd aloft their nostrils spout the brine;
While show'ring still from many a carabine
The leaden hail their sails and vessels tore,
Till, struggling hard, they reach'd the neighb'ring shore:
Due vengeance thus their perfidy repaid,
And GAMA'S terrors to the East display'd.

Imbrown'd with dust a beaten pathway shows
Where 'midst umbrageous palms the fountain flows;
From thence, at will, they bear the liquid health;
And now, sole masters of the island's wealth,
With costly spoils and eastern robes adorn'd,
The joyful victors to the fleet return'd.

With hell's keen fires still for revenge athirst
The regent burns, and weens, by fraud accurst,
To strike a surer yet a secret blow,
And in one general death to whelm the foe.
The promis'd pilot to the fleet he sends
And deep repentance for his crime pretends.
Sincere the herald seems, and while he speaks,
The winning tears steal down his hoary cheeks.
Brave GAMA, touch'd with gen'rous woe, believes,
And from his hand the pilot's hand receives:
A dreadful gift! instructed to decoy,
In gulfs to whelm them, or on rocks destroy.

The valiant chief, impatient of delay,
For India now resumes the wat'ry way;
Bids weigh the anchor and unfurl the sail,
Spread full the canvas to the rising gale.
He spoke: and proudly o'er the foaming tide,
Borne on the wind, the full-wing'd vessels ride;
While as they rode before the bounding prows
The lovely forms of sea-born nymphs arose.
The while brave VASCO'S unsuspecting mind
Yet fear'd not ought the crafty Moor design'd:
Much of the coast he asks, and much demands
Of Afric's shores and India's spicy lands.
The crafty Moor by vengeful Bacchus taught
Employ'd on deadly guile his baneful thought;
In his dark mind he plann'd, on GAMA'S head
Full to revenge Mozambique and the dead.
Yet all the chief demanded he reveal'd,
Nor aught of truth, that truth he knew, conceal'
For thus he ween'd to gain his easy faith,
And gain'd, betray to slavery or death.
And now, securely trusting to destroy,
As erst false Sinon[112] snar'd the sons of Troy,
"Behold, disclosing from the sky," he cries,
"Far to the north, yon cloud-like isle arise:
From ancient times the natives of the shore
The blood-stain'd image on the cross adore. "
Swift at the word, the joyful GAMA cried:
"For that fair island turn the helm aside;
O bring my vessels where the Christians dwell,
And thy glad lips my gratitude shall tell. "
With sullen joy the treach'rous Moor complied,
And for that island turn'd the helm aside.
For well Quiloa's[113] swarthy race he knew,
Their laws and faith to Hagar's offspring true;
Their strength in war, through all the nations round,
Above Mozambique and her powers renown'd;
He knew what hate the Christian name they bore,
And hop'd that hate on VASCO'S bands to pour.

Right to the land the faithless pilot steers,
Right to the land the glad Armada bears;
But heavenly Love's fair queen,[114] whose watchful care
Had ever been their guide, beheld the snare.
A sudden storm she rais'd: loud howl'd the blast,
The yard-arms rattled, and each groaning mast
Bended beneath the weight. Deep sunk the prows,
And creaking ropes the creaking ropes oppose;
In vain the pilot would the speed restrain,
The captain shouts, the sailors toil in vain;
Aslope and gliding on the leeward side,
The bounding vessels cut the roaring tide:
Soon far they pass'd; and now the slacken'd sail
Trembles and bellies to the gentle gale:
Now many a league before the tempest toss'd
The treach'rous pilot sees his purpose cross'd:
Yet vengeful still, and still intent on guile,
Behold, he cries, yon dim emerging isle:
There live the votaries of Messiah's lore
In faithful peace, and friendship with the Moor.
Yet all was false, for there Messiah's name,
Reviled and scorn'd, was only known by fame.
The grovelling natives there, a brutal herd,
The sensual lore of Hagar's son[115] preferr'd.
With joy brave GAMA hears the artful tale,
Bears to the harbour, and bids furl the sail.
Yet, watchful still, fair Love's celestial queen
Prevents the danger with a hand unseen;
Now past the bar his vent'rous vessel guides,
And safe at anchor in the road he rides.

Between the isle and Ethiopia's land
A narrow current laves each adverse strand;
Close by the margin where the green tide flows,
Full to the bay a lordly city rose;
With fervid blaze the glowing evening pours
Its purple splendours o'er the lofty towers;
The lofty towers with milder lustre gleam,
And gently tremble in the glassy stream.
Here reign'd a hoary king of ancient fame;
Mombas the town, Mombas the island's name.

As when the pilgrim, who with weary pace
Thro' lonely wastes untrod by human race,
For many a day disconsolate has stray'd,
The turf his bed, the wild-wood boughs his shade,
O'erjoy'd beholds the cheerful seats of men
In grateful prospect rising on his ken:
So GAMA joy'd, who many a dreary day
Had traced the vast, the lonesome, wat'ry way,
Had seen new stars, unknown to Europe, rise,
And brav'd the horrors of the polar skies:
So joy'd his bounding heart when, proudly rear'd,
The splendid city o'er the wave appear'd,
Where Heaven's own lore, he trusted, was obey'd,
And Holy Faith her sacred rites display'd.
And now, swift crowding through the horned bay,
The Moorish barges wing'd their foamy way,
To GAMA'S fleet with friendly smiles they bore
The choicest products of their cultur'd shore.
But there fell rancour veil'd its serpent-head,
Though festive roses o'er the gifts were spread.
For Bacchus, veil'd in human shape, was here,
And pour'd his counsel in the sov'reign's ear.

O piteous lot of man's uncertain state!
What woes on Life's unhappy journey wait!
When joyful Hope would grasp its fond desire,
The long-sought transports in the grasp expire.
By sea what treach'rous calms, what rushing storms,
And death attendant in a thousand forms!
By land what strife, what plots of secret guile,
How many a wound from many a treach'rous smile!
Oh where shall man escape his num'rous foes,
And rest his weary head in safe repose!

END OF BOOK I.




BOOK II.

THE ARGUMENT.

Arrival of the expedition at Mombas. Bacchus plots their destruction by
new artifices. They are deceived into the belief that the natives are,
like themselves, Christians: Bacchus assumes the character of a priest,
and worships the god of the Christians. At the invitation of the king of
Mombas, GAMA enters the port, and reaches the place intended for his
destruction. Venus, aided by the Nereids, effects their deliverance; and
GAMA sails away, fearing treachery. Venus hastens to Olympus to seek
Jove's aid. Jupiter assures her of the future glory of the Portuguese,
and commands Mercury to conduct the expedition to Melinda. The King of
Melinda asks from GAMA an historical account of his nation.


The fervent lustre of the evening ray
Behind the western hills now died away,
And night, ascending from the dim-brow'd east,
The twilight gloom with deeper shades increas'd,
When GAMA heard the creaking of the oar,
And mark'd the white waves length'ning from the shore.
In many a skiff the eager natives came,
Their semblance friendship, but deceit their aim.
And now by GAMA'S anchor'd ships they ride,
And "Hail, illustrious chief! " their leader cried,
"Your fame already these our regions own,
How your bold prows from worlds to us unknown
Have brav'd the horrors of the southern main,
Where storms and darkness hold their endless reign,
Whose whelmy waves our westward prows have barr'd
From oldest times, and ne'er before were dar'd
By boldest leader: earnest to behold
The wondrous hero of a toil so bold,
To you the sov'reign of these islands sends
The holy vows of peace, and hails you friends.
If friendship you accept, whate'er kind Heaven
In various bounty to these shores has given,
Whate'er your wants, your wants shall here supply,
And safe in port your gallant fleet shall lie;
Safe from the dangers of the faithless tide,
And sudden bursting storms, by you untried;
Yours every bounty of the fertile shore,
Till balmy rest your wearied strength restore.
Or, if your toils and ardent hopes demand
The various treasures of the Indian strand,
The fragrant cinnamon, the glowing clove,
And all the riches of the spicy grove;
Or drugs of power the fever's rage to bound,
And give soft languor to the smarting wound;
Or, if the splendour of the diamond's rays,
The sapphire's azure, or the ruby's blaze,
Invite your sails to search the Eastern world,
Here may these sails in happy hour be furl'd:
For here the splendid treasures of the mine,
And richest offspring of the field combine
To give each boon that human want requires,
And every gem that lofty pride desires;
Then here, a potent king your gen'rous friend,
Here let your perilous toils and wandering searches[116] end. "

He said: brave GAMA smiles with heart sincere,
And prays the herald to the king to bear
The thanks of grateful joy: "But now," he cries,
"The black'ning evening veils the coast and skies,
And thro' these rocks unknown forbids to steer;
Yet, when the streaks of milky dawn appear,
Edging the eastern wave with silver hoar,
My ready prows shall gladly point to shore;
Assur'd of friendship, and a kind retreat,
Assur'd and proffer'd by a king so great. "
Yet, mindful still of what his hopes had cheer'd,
That here his nation's holy shrines were rear'd,
He asks, if certain, as the pilot told,
Messiah's lore had flourish'd there of old,
And flourish'd still. The herald mark'd with joy
The pious wish, and, watchful to decoy,
"Messiah here," he cries, "has altars more
Than all the various shrines of other lore. "
O'erjoy'd, brave VASCO heard the pleasing tale,
Yet fear'd that fraud its viper-sting might veil
Beneath the glitter of a show so fair.
He half believes the tale, and arms against the snare.

With GAMA sail'd a bold advent'rous band,[117]
Whose headlong rage had urg'd the guilty hand:
Stern Justice for their crimes had ask'd their blood,
And pale, in chains condemn'd to death, they stood;
But, sav'd by GAMA from the shameful death,
The bread of peace had seal'd their plighted faith[117]
The desolate coast, when order'd, to explore,
And dare each danger of the hostile shore:
From this bold band he chose the subtlest two,
The port, the city, and its strength to view,
To mark if fraud its secret head betray'd,
Or if the rites of Heaven were there display'd.
With costly gifts, as of their truth secure,
The pledge that GAMA deem'd their faith was pure.
These two, his heralds, to the king he sends:
The faithless Moors depart as smiling friends.
Now, thro' the wave they cut their foamy way,
Their cheerful songs resounding through the bay:
And now, on shore 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 pass, the joyful tumult bends,
And through the town the glad applause attends.
But he whose cheeks with youth immortal shone,
The god 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 godhead, 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 pass'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 worship, 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 ships ascend,
And deep to strike the treach'rous blow attend.
On shore 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 breasts divide
And give a yielding passage through the tide.
With furious speed the goddess 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 goddess press'd;
The ship 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 ship bounds up, half lifted from the wave,
And, trembling, hovers o'er the wat'ry grave.
As when alarm'd, to save the hoarded 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 ship 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 poop 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 hoarse 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 ships, 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 illustrious 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 friendship, and the holy vow
All, all conjoin'd our easy faith to gain,
To whelm us, shipwreck'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 shore 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 pass'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 goddess 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 breasts 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 god'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 shore,
For I have lov'd them. " Here the swelling sigh
And pearly tear-drop rushing 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-god 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 gods could e'er my heart incline,
Like one fond smile, one powerful tear of thine.
Wide o'er the eastern shores shalt thou behold
Thy flags far streaming, and thy thunders roll'd;
Where nobler 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' shore;
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 shore 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 shore which weav'd for him the snares of death,
To him these shores 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] shore,
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 assail'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 assault in vain.
Great Calicut,[143] for potent hosts renown'd,
By Lisbon's sons assail'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 shore
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 shore 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 gods were demi-gods enroll'd:
From all that vast no equal heroes shine
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 Mombassa'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 shore 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 noble band had reach'd the AEthiop shore,
Through seas and dangers never dar'd before:
The godlike, 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 shores, 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 shore 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.