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Luís de Camões Translated by Richard F. Burton

Nydus Foundation

This edition is based on a public-domain English translation by Richard F. Burton. The base text is believed to be in the public domain in the United States (95 years from publication, or life of the author plus 70 years). Public-domain status may vary by jurisdiction and depends on the author's death year and local copyright term rules. Modern additions, formatting, cover design, notes, and metadata may have separate rights where stated. Published by Nydus Foundation. Released 2026-07-11.

To H.I.M. Dom Pedro de Alcântara , ( D. Pedro II ) Constitutional Emperor, and Perpetual Defender of The Brazil; to the Man rather than the Monarch this Version of a Poem, so dear to the heart of every Brazilian, is offered by His Emperial Majesty’s most obedient humble Servant,

The Translator

> Il far un libro è meno che niente, Se il libro fatto non rifà la gente.

> Place, riches, favour, Prizes of accident as oft as merit.

> Ora toma a espada, agora a penna (Now with the sword-hilt, then with pen in hand).

> Bramo assai⁠—poco spero⁠—nulla chiedo.

> Tout cela prouve enfin que l’ouvrage est plein de grandes beautés, puisque depuis deux cents ans il fait les délices d’une nation spirituelle qui doit en connôitre les fautes.

( Tu se’ lo mio maestro, e ’l mio autore ).

Great Pilgrim-poet of the Sea and Land; Thou life-long sport of Fortune’s ficklest will; Doomed to all human and inhuman ill, Despite thy lover-heart, thy hero-hand: Enrollèd by thy pen what marv’ellous band Of god-like Forms thy golden pages fill; Love, Honour, Justice, Valour, Glory thrill The Soul, obedient to thy strong command: Amid the Prophets highest sits the Bard, At once Revealer of the Heav’en and Earth, To Heav’en the guide, of Earth the noblest guard; And, ’mid the Poets thine the peerless worth, Whose glorious song, thy Genius’ sole reward, Bids all the Ages, Camões! bless thy birth.

R. F. B.

The most pleasing literary labour of my life has been to translate “ The Lusiads .” One of my highest aims has been to produce a translation which shall associate my name, not unpleasantly, with that of “my master, Camões.”

Those who favour me by reading this version are spared the long recital of why, how, and when Portugal’s Maro became to me the perfection of a traveller’s study. The first and chiefest charm was, doubtless, that of the Man. A wayfarer and voyager from his youth; a soldier, somewhat turbulent withal, wounded and blamed for his wounds; a moralist, a humourist, a satirist, and, consequently, no favourite with King Demos; a reverent and religious spirit after his own fashion (somewhat “Renaissance,” poetic, and Pagan), by no means after the fashion of others; an outspoken, truth-telling, lucre-despising writer; a public servant whose motto was⁠—strange to say⁠— Honour, not Honours ; a doughty Sword and yet doughtier Pen; a type of the chivalrous age; a patriot of the purest water, so jealous of his Country’s good fame that nothing would satisfy him but to see the world bow before her perfections; a genius, the first and foremost of his day, who died in the direst poverty and distress; such in merest outline was the Man, and such was the Life which won the fondest and liveliest sympathies of the translator.

> Poetas por poetas sejam lidos; Sejam só por poetas explicadas Suas obras divinas; > > (Still by the Poets be the Poets read Only be render’d by the Poet’s tongue Their works divine);

writes Manuel Corrêa. Mickle expresses the sentiment with more brevity and equal point: None but a poet can translate a poet; and Coleridge assigns to a poet the property of explaining a poet. Let me add that none but a traveller can do justice to a traveller. And it so happens that most of my wanderings have unconsciously formed a running and realistic commentary upon The Lusiads . I have not only visited almost every place named in the Epos of Commerce, in many I have spent months and even years. The Arch-poet of Portugal paints from the life, he has also the insight which we call introvision; he sees with exact eyes where others are purblind or blind. Only they who have personally studied the originals of his pictures can appreciate their perfect combination of fidelity and realism with Fancy and Idealism. Here it is that the traveller-translator may do good service with his specialty.

Again, like Boccaccio, Camões reflects the Lux ex Oriente . There is a perfume of the East in everything he writes of the East: we find in his song much of its havock and all its splendour. Oriental-like, he delights in the Pathetic Fallacy; to lavish upon inanimates the attributes of animate sensation. Here again, the student of things Eastern, the “practical Orientalist,” may be useful by drawing attention to points which escape the European, however learned.

There are many translators of Camões yet to come. We are an ephemeral race, each one struggling to trample down his elder brother, like the Simoniacal Popes in the Malebolge-pit. My first excuse for adding to the half-dozen translations in the field, must be my long studies, geographical and anthropological: I can at least spare future writers the pains and penalties of saddling the exactest of poets with bad ethnology and worse topography. These may be small matters, but in local colouring every touch tells.

My chief qualifications for the task, however, are a thorough appreciation of the Poem and a hearty admiration for the Poet whom I learned to love in proportion as I learned to know him. His Lusiads has been described as une lecture saine et fortifiante . I would say far more. The Singer’s gracious and noble thoughts are reviving as the champagne-air of the mountain-top. His verse has the true heroic ring of such old ballads as:⁠—

> S’en assaut viens, devant ta lance, En mine, en échelle, en tous lieux, En prouesse les bons avance, Ta dame t’en aimera mieux.

And with this love and sympathy of mine mingles not a little gratitude. During how many hopeless days and sleepless nights Camões was my companion, my consoler, my friend;⁠—on board raft and canoe; sailer and steamer; on the camel and the mule; under the tent and the jungle-tree; upon the fire-peak and the snow-peak; on the Prairie, the Campo, the Steppe, the Desert!

Where no conversable being can be found within a march of months; and when the hot blood of youth courses through the brain, Ennui and Nostalgia are readily bred, while both are fatal to the Explorer’s full success. And, preferring to all softer lines the hard life of Discovery-travel:⁠—

> Where things that own not man’s dominion dwell, Where foot of mortal man hath never been;⁠—

a career which combines cultivation and education with that resistless charm, that poetry-passion of the Unknown; whose joy of mere motion lightens all sorrows and disappointments; which aids, by commune with Nature, the proper study of Mankind; which enlarges the mental view as the hill-head broadens the horizon; which made Julian a saint, Khizr a prophet, and Odin a god: this Reiselust , I say, being my ruling passion, compelled me to seek a talisman against homesickness and the nervous troubles which learned men call Phrenalgia and Autophobia.

I found this talisman in Camões.

And, if it be true that by virtue of his perfect affection and veneration for Homer, whom he loved as a second self, Chapman was enabled to reflect a something of the old Greek’s magic force and fire, I also may be permitted to hope that complete sympathy with my Poet will enable me to present the public with a copy not unworthy of Camões’ immortal work.

After all, to speak without undue modesty, my most cogent reason for printing this translation of my Master is, simply because I prefer it to all that have appeared. Others will think otherwise; and there is a Judge from whose sentence lies no present appeal. I have spared no labour on the work; I have satisfied myself if not Malebouche ; and I repeat my motto: poco spero, nulla chiedo . If a concurrence of adverse trifles prevent my being appreciated now, the day will come, haply somewhat late, when men will praise what they now pass by.

Richard Francis Burton

Cairo, May 1, 1880 .

The Portugueze navigate the Eastern Seas: The Gods hold their Council: Bacchus opposeth himself to this navigation: Venus and Mars favour the navigators: They arrive at Mozambíque, the Governor whereof attempteth to destroy them: Encounter and first military Action of our People with the Gentiles: They weigh anchor; and, passing Quiloa, they ride in the roadstead of Mombasah.

The Gods hold council Heaven’s high court within, (20⁠–⁠41) Bacchus our Lusian braves to thwart doth seek (73⁠–⁠81) Who meed of Mars, and grace of Venus gain, Till cast the ferreous tooth in Mozambíque: Thence, when their arm of pow’r display’d had been, (85) Death and destruction on the foe to wreak; Fareth the fleet where red Aurora bideth; And, reach’d Mombasah-town, outside it rideth. (103)

1

The feats of Arms, and famed heroick Host, from occidental Lusitanian strand, who o’er the waters ne’er by seaman crost, farèd beyond the Taprobáne-land, forceful in perils and in battle-post, with more than promised force of mortal hand; and in the regions of a distant race rear’d a new throne so haught in Pride of Place:

2

And, eke, the Kings of mem’ory grand and glorious, who hied them Holy Faith and Reign to spread, converting, conquering, and in lands notorious, Africk and Asia, devastation made; nor less the Lieges who by deeds memorious brake from the doom that binds the vulgar dead; my song would sound o’er Earth’s extremest part were mine the genius, mine the Poet’s art.

3

Cease the sage Grecian, and the Man of Troy to vaunt long Voyage made in bygone day: Cease Alexander, Trajan cease to ’joy the fame of vict’ories that have pass’d away: The noble Lusian’s stouter breast sing I, whom Mars and Neptune dared not disobey: Cease all that antique Muse hath sung, for now a better Brav’ry rears its bolder brow.

4

And you, my Tagian Nymphs, who have create in me new purpose with new genius firing; if ’twas my joy whilere to celebrate your founts and stream my humble song inspiring; Oh! lend me here a noble strain elate, a style grandiloquent that flows untiring; so shall Apollo for your waves ordain ye in name and fame ne’er envy Hippokréné.

5

Grant me sonorous accents, fire-abounding, now serves ne peasant’s pipe, ne rustick reed; but blast of trumpet, long and loud resounding, that ’flameth heart and hue to fiery deed: Grant me high strains to suit their Gestes astounding, your Sons, who aided Mars in martial need; that o’er the world be sung the glorious song, if theme so lofty may to verse belong.

6

And Thou! O goodly omen’d trust, all-dear to Lusitania’s olden liberty, whereon assurèd esperance we rear enforced to see our frail Christianity: Thou, O new terror to the Moorish spear, the fated marvel of our century, to govern worlds of men by God so given, that the world’s best be given to God and Heaven:

7

Thou young, then tender, ever-flourishing bough, true scion of tree by Christ belovèd more, than aught that Occident did ever know, “Caesarian” or “Most Christian” styled before: Look on thy ’scutcheon, and behold it show the present Vict’ory long past ages bore; Arms which He gave and made thine own to be by Him assumèd on the fatal tree:

8

Thou, mighty Sovran! o’er whose lofty reign the rising Sun rains earliest smile of light; sees it from middle firmamental plain; and sights it sinking on the breast of Night: Thou, whom we hope to hail the blight, the bane of the dishonour’d Ishmaëlitish knight; and Orient Turk, and Gentoo-misbeliever that drinks the liquor of the Sacred River:

9

Incline awhile, I pray, that majesty which in thy tender years I see thus ample, E’en now prefiguring full maturity that shall be shrin’d in Fame’s eternal temple: Those royal eyne that beam benignity bend on low earth: Behold a new ensample of hero hearts with patriot pride inflamèd, in number’d verses manifold proclaimèd.

10

Thou shalt see Love of Land that ne’er shall own lust of vile lucre; soaring towards th’ Eternal: For ’tis no light ambition to be known th’ acclaimèd herald of my nest paternal. Hear; thou shalt see the great names greater grown of Vavasors who hail thee Lord Supernal: So shalt thou judge which were the higher station, King of the world or Lord of such a nation.

11

Hark; for with vauntings vain thou shalt not view fantastical, fictitious, lying deed of lieges lauded, as strange Muses do, seeking their fond and foolish pride to feed: Thine acts so forceful are, told simply true, all fabled, dreamy feats they far exceed; exceeding Rodomont, and Ruggiero vain, and Roland haply born of Poet’s brain.

12

For these I give thee a Nuno, fierce in fight, who for his King and Country freely bled; an Egas and a Fuas; fain I might for them my lay with harp Homeric wed! For the twelve peerless Peers again I cite the Twelve of England by Magriço led: Nay, more, I give thee Gama’s noble name, who for himself claims all Aeneas’ fame.

13

And if in change for royal Charles of France, or rivalling Caesar’s mem’ories thou wouldst trow, the first Afonso see, whose conque’ring lance lays highest boast of stranger glories low: See him who left his realm th’ inheritance fair Safety, born of wars that crusht the foe: That other John, a knight no fear deter’d, the fourth and fifth Afonso, and the third.

14

Nor shall they silent in my song remain, they who in regions there where Dawns arise, by Acts of Arms such glories toil’d to gain, where thine unvanquisht flag for ever flies, Pacheco, brave of braves; th’ Almeidas twain, whom Tagus mourns with ever-weeping eyes; dread Albuquerque, Castro stark and brave, with more, the victors of the very grave.

15

But, singing these, of thee I may not sing, O King sublime! such theme I fain must fear. Take of thy reign the reins, so shall my King create a poesy new to mortal ear: E’en now the mighty burden hear I ring (and speed its terrors over all the sphere!) of sing’ular prowess, War’s own prodigies, in Africk regions and on Orient seas.

16

Casteth on thee the Moor eyne cold with fright, in whom his coming doom he views designèd: The barb’rous Gentoo, sole to see thy sight yields to thy yoke the neck e’en now inclinèd; Tethys, of azure seas the sovran right, her realm, in dowry hath to thee resignèd; and, by thy noble tender beauty won, would bribe and buy thee to become her son.

17

In thee from high Olympick halls behold themselves, thy grandsires’ sprites; far-famèd pair; this clad in Peacetide’s angel-robe of gold, that crimson-hued with paint of battle-glare: By thee they hope to see their tale twice told, their lofty memo’ries live again; and there, when Time thy years shall end, for thee they ’sign a seat where soareth Fame’s eternal shrine.

18

But, sithence ancient Time slow minutes by ere ruled the Peoples who desire such boon; bend on my novel rashness favouring eye, that these my verses may become thine own: So shalt thou see thine Argonauts o’erfly yon salty argent, when they see it shown thou seest their labours on the raging sea: Learn even now invok’d of man to be.

19

They walked the water’s vasty breadth of blue, parting the restless billows on their way; fair favouring breezes breathèd soft and true, the bellying canvas bulging in their play: The seas were sprent with foam of creamy hue, flashing where’er the Prows wide open lay the sacred spaces of that ocean-plain where Proteus’ cattle cleave his own domain:

20

When they who hold Olympick luminous height, the Gods and Governors of our human race, convened in glorious conclave, all unite the coming course of Eastern things to trace: Treading the glassy dome of lovely light, along the Milky Way conjoint they pace, gather’d together at the Thunderer’s hest, and by old Atlas’ gentle grandson prest.

21

They leave the reg’iment of the Firm’aments seven, to them committed by his high command, his pow’r sublime whose thoughtful will hath given Order to skies, and angry seas, and land: Then instant gather in th’ assize of Heaven those who are throned on far Arcturus’ strand, and those that Auster rule, and Orient tides, where springs Aurora and clear Phoebus hides.

22

Reposèd there the Sire sublime and digne, vibrates whose hand the fierce Vulcanian ray, on seat of starry splendour crystalline, grand in his lofty gest of sovran sway: Respirèd from his brow such air divine, that to divine could change dull human clay; bearing the crown and sceptre rutilant, of clearer stone than clearest diamant.

23

On sparkling seats, with marquetry inlaid of gold and pearl-work, sat in lower state the minor Godheads, marshall’d and array’d, e’en as demanded reason, rank, and rate: Highest the seniors of most honour’d grade; lower adown the lower Deities sate: When thus high Jove the deathless throng addrest with awful accents, dealing gravest hest:⁠—

24

“Immortal Peoples of the starlit Pole, whose seats adorn this constellated sphere; if the stout Race of valour-breathing soul from Lusus springing still to thought be dear, Your high Intelligences lief unroll the writ of mighty Fate: her will is clear, this Deed to cold Oblivion’s shade shall doom the fame of Persia, ’Assyria, Greece, and Rome.

25

“To them ’twas erst, and well you wot it, given, albeit a Pow’r so single, simple, small, to see the doughty Moor from ’trenchments driven where gentle Tagus feeds and floods the vale: Then with the dreadful Spaniard have they striven, by boon of Heav’n serene ne’er known to fail; and urged their fortune’s ever-glorious claim to victor-trophies hung in fane of Fame.

26

“Godheads! I leave that antique fame unsaid, reft from the race of Romulus their foes; when, by their warrior Viriátus led, so high in Roman wars their names arose: Eke leave I mem’ries which to meritèd Honour obligèd when for chief they chose that perfect Captain, erst a peregrine foe, who feign’d a Daemon in his milk-white Doe.

27

“Now well you see how steel’d their souls to steer a fragile barque through dubious wat’ery way, by paths unused, and holding nought in fear Notus and Afer’s force, wax bolder they: How whilom ev’ry region left arear, where suns or shorten or draw long the day, on wings of stubborn will these men be borne to sight the cradles of the nascent Morn.

28

“Promised them Fate’s eternal covenant, whose high commandments none shall dare despise, for years full many they shall rule th’ extent of seas that see the ruddy suns arise. On wavy wastes hard winter have they spent; o’erworked they come by travailing emprize; ’twere meet we show them, thus it seemeth me, the fair new region which they fain would see.

29

“And as their valour, so you trow, defied on aspe’rous voyage cruel harm and sore, so many changing skies their manhood tried, such climes where storm-winds blow and billows roar; my sov’ereign mandate ’tis, be theirs to ride in friendly haven, on the Blackmoor shore; whence shall the weary Fleet, with ev’ery need garnisht, once more her long-drawn voyage speed.”

30

Thus hearing Jupiter’s decree pronouncèd, each God responsive spoke, in order due, contrasting judgment one and all announcèd giving and taking various divers view. But Father Bacchus then and there renouncèd, homage to Jove’s command, who right well knew his deeds on Orient-lond would leave no trace, were furth’erance granted to the Lusian race.

31

The Fatal Sisters he had heard declare, how from Hispanian bounds a hero-band should span the pathless deep, and nought should spare wherever Doris batheth Indian strand: Should with new victo’ries eve’ry deed out-dare done or by his or other stranger hand: Profound he sorrows lest he lose the glory, the name still cel’ebrate in the Nyssan story.

32

He sees, while Indus he of yore hath tamèd, Fortune or favou’ring chance had aye denied to hear him India’s conqueror acclaimèd by bardic men who drain Parnassus’ tide: And now he dreadeth lest a name so famèd be doomed for ever in the mire to hide of Lethe-fountain, if on Inde debark these vagueing Portingalls so strong and stark.

33

But him opposèd Venus, lovely fair, whose heart her Lusian sons had won the more, since in them seen the qualities high and rare, the gifts that deckt her Romans dear of yore: The heart of valour, and the potent star, whose splendour dazzled Tingitánan shore; and e’en the music of their speech appears soft bastard Latin to her loving ears.

34

These causes movèd Cytheréa’s sprite; and more when learnt she that the Fates intendèd the Queen of Beauty should be glorious hight where’er their warrior sway her sons extendèd. Thus He, who fearèd future stain and blight, and She, whose heart to honours high pretended urge the debate in obstinate strife remaining; with fav’ouring friends each rival right maintaining:

35

As the fierce South, or Boreas in the shade of sylvan upland where the tree-boles cluster, the branches shatt’ering crash through glooming glade with horrid hurry and infuriate fluster: Roars all the mountain, Echo moans in dread; torn is the leaf’ery, hill-heads boil and bluster: Such gusty tumults rise amid the Gods within Olympus’ consecrate abodes.

36

But Mars, for ever wont t’espouse the part of his dear Goddess, whatsoe’er the case; or for old love that flicker’d in his heart, or for the merits of her fighting race; forth from the Gods upsprang with sudden start: Stern melancholy markt his gest and face; the pond’erous pavoise from his gorget hung behind his shoulders full of wrath he flung!

37

His beavoir’d helmet of the diamant stone opeing a little, of his strength right sure, his sense to speak he strode and stood alone Jupiter facing, armèd, dour and dure: Then with hard pen’etrant blow he bore adown his steely spear-heel on the pavement pure; quakèd the welkin; and Apollo’s ray waxt somewhat wan as though by cold dismay.

38

And thus:⁠—“Omnipo’tent Sire! whose awful reign perforce obeyeth all thy pow’er hath made; if these, who seek a new half-world to gain, whose deeds of brav’ery hast with love survey’d, thou wouldst not guerdon with a shame and stain, that erst were favoured through the years that fade listen no longer thou, sole Judge direct, to glozing reasons all we Gods suspect:

39

“For, did not Reason in this matter show herself the victim of unmeasure’d fear, better beseems it Bacchus love bestow on Lusus’ children, once his comrade dear: But, let this vain and splen’etick purpose go, since bred of evil stomach; for ’tis clear that alien envy ne’er shall turn to woes what weal men merit, and the Gods dispose.

40

“And thou, O Sire of surest constancy! from the determine’d purpose of thy mind turn thee not backwards; weakness ’twere in thee now to desist thee from the thing design’d. Send forth thine agile herald, Mercury, fleeter than trimmèd shaft, or winnowing wind, and show some happy hythe where Rest shall joy all weary breasts with news of India nigh.”

41

As thus he said, the Sire of sov’ereign might assented, nodding grave his awful head to Mars’ opinion, ever fain of fight, and o’er the Council show’ers of nectar shed. The Galaxy, the pathway glowing bright, the Deities all disparting rose to tread; royal obeisance making, and the road each took returning to his own abode.

42

While thus it happens in th’ aethereal reign⁠— Omnipotent Olympick height serene⁠— the warrior People cut the curvèd main Austral and Oriental course between; where fronts the face of Aethiopick plain far-famed Saint Lawrence Isle; Sol’s brightest sheen upon the water-deities rainèd fire, who, changed to fishes, ’scaped Typhoeus’ ire.

43

The wafting winds so winsome urged their way, As though the smiling heav’ens dear friends defended; serene the welkin, and the lucid day dawn’ed sans a cloud nor aught of risk portended: Astern the leek-green point of Prasum lay an olden name where Aethiop coast extended; when Ocean op’ening broad a vista show’d of islets fondled by the circling flood.

44

Vasco da Gama, valiant Capitayne, for derring-do the noblest volunteer, of not’able courage and of noble strain, whom smile of constant Fortune loved to cheer; seeth no reason why he should remain where shows the shore-line desert, dark and drear: Once more determined he to tempt the sea; but as he willèd Fortune nill’ed it be.

45

For look! appeareth a flotilla yonder, mosquito-craft that cleave the rolling tide; and with their flowing sails the surges sunder, from the small island next the cont’inent side: The crews rejoicing, in their hope and wonder could gaze on naught save what their hearts had joy’d. “Who may be these?” each ask’ed him in amaze; “What law be theirs, what ruler, what their ways?”

46

The boats appearèd in a manner new long-built and narrow-beamed, for swiftness plan’d; mats were the wings wherewith they lightly flew from certain palm-fronds wove by cunning hand: The people wore that veritable hue, Phaëton’s boon to many a burning land, when work’ed his rashness on the world such ills: So Padus knows and Lampethusa feels.

47

They come costumèd all in cotton gear, of hues contrasting, stripèd, chequed, and white; one zone-girt cloth around the waist they wear, other they throw on back in airy plight: Above the waist-band each brown form is bare; dag-targe and matchet are their arms of fight: Scull-cap on head; and, as they wend their way, shriek shrilly shawms, and harsh-voiced trumpets bray.

48

Waving their raiment and their hands they signèd the Lusitanian folk to wait awhile: but our light Prores their course had now inclinèd to strike where shelter’d by the nearest isle: Soldiers and sailors in one toil conjoinèd as though were here the period of their toil: They take in sail, and strike the lofty spar, and Ocean, anchor-smit, froths high in air.

49

Nor had they anchor’d, when the stranger race the shrouds upswarming ready footing gainèd; joyous they cluster glad of gest and face; our Captain gracious greeting gives unfeignèd. He bids incontinent the board to grace with vinous liquor first Lyaeus drainèd; they crown the crystal cups, the proffer’d wine Phaëton’s scorchèd folk nowise decline.

50

Afeasting cheery all the guests enquirèd in Arab language, Whence had come their hosts? Who were they? Where their land? What they desirèd? What seas their keels had cut and conn’d what coasts? The valiant Lusians answered with requirèd discretion, and eschewing foolish boasts⁠— “We are the Occidental Portughuese; And, seeking Orient lands, we sail the seas.

51

“We now have coasted, running Ocean o’er, Callisto’s Arctick and th’ Antarctick lands; our course hath circled Africk’s winding shore; strange skies exploring and yet stranger strands: Ours is a potent King, loved evermore, and we so prize his praise and his commands, with mien right joyful, not the sea and sky, but even Ach’eron Lake we dare defy.

52

“And wend we seeking by his royal will where farthest Indus wat’ereth Eastern plain: For him through wild wide waves we hoist the sail, where ugly seals and orcs deform the Main. But Reason tells us that ye may not fail to answer, an of Truth your souls be fain, Who are ye? What this land wherein ye wone? And sign of India is to you beknown?”

53

“We live,” an island-man thus answ’ering said, “aliens in land and law and eke in blood; where native races are by nature bred, a lawless, loutish, and unreasoning brood. We hold his certain Law, that Holy Seed, springing from Abram’s loins, who hath subdued the nations subject to his sign’ory true; by sire a Gentile and by mother Jew.

54

“This little island, where we now abide, of all this seaboard is the one sure place for ev’ery merchantman that stems the tide, from Quiloa or Sofálah or Mombas: Here, as ’tis necessary, long we’ve tried to house and home us, like its proper race: In fine to find you with the facts you seek, man calls our little island ‘Mozambíque.’

55

“And, as far-faring now ye come to view Indic Hydaspes and his burning board, hence ye shall bear a Pilot, sure and true, whose skill the safest guidance shall afford: ’Twere also well, ere you your toils renew, vittaile to ship, and let our island-lord, who governeth this land, his guests behold, and stock with needed store each empty hold.”

56

His speech thus spake the Moor, and took his leave, he and his meiny where the bátels lay: formal farewells to chief and crews he gave, exchanging congees with due courtesy. Now weary Phoebus in the western wave had stalled the crystal chariot of the Day, and gave his bright-brow’d sister charge t’ illume the vast of Earth while lasted nightly gloom.

57

Aboard the wayworn Fleet blithe sped the night in careless joyaunce recking nought of fear; for the far land which long had ’scaped their sight at length gave tidings, and at last lay near. Now to take notice ’gins each curious wight of the strange people’s manners, ways, and gear, and much they marvell’ed how the sect misguided o’er Earth’s broad surface far and wide abided.

58

Rained Luna’s radiance shedding rutilant showers o’er Neptune’s wavelets tipt with silver sheen: And like the May-mead fleckt with daisy flowers sprent with its sparkling stars the sky was seen: The blust’ring storm-winds slept in distant bowers, Antres obscure in regions peregrine; yet on th’ Armada’s decks a weapon’d guard kept, as so long they wont, good watch and ward.

59

But when Aurora with her marquetry ’gan strew the glorious honours of her head o’er the clear Heav’ens, and oped the ruddy way to bright Hyperion rising from his bed; lief is the Fleet to dress in brave array of flags, and goodly awnings gay to spread, that all may greet with holiday and hail that island-lord who came with flowing sail.

60

He came right merrily o’er the Main, and sought to view our nimble Lusitanian fleet; bringing his country-cates, for ’twas his thought in the fierce foreigner perchance to meet the race inhuman, which hath ever fought to change its Caspian caves for happier seat in Asian cont’inent; and, by Will Divine, of rule imperial robbèd Constantine.

61

With glad reception our Commander meets the Moorish chieftain and his whole convòy; whom with a gift of richest gear he greets whereof a store was shipped for such employ: He gives him rich conserves, he gives, rare treats, the liquors hot which fill man’s heart with joy. Good be the gifts the Moor contented thinks, but more the sweetmeats prizes, most the drinks.

62

The sailor-people sprung from Lusus’ blood in wond’ering clusters to the ratlines clung; noting the stranger’s novel mode and mood with his so barb’arous and perplexèd tongue. Sometime the wily Moor confusèd stood eyeing the garb, the hue, the fleet, the throng; and asked, with questions manifold assailing, if they from Turkey-land, perchance, were hailing.

63

He further tells them how he longs to see what books their credence, law and faith contain; if these conforming with his own agree or were, as well he ween’d, of Christian grain: Nay more, that hidden naught from him may be, he prayed the Captain would be pleased t’ ordain that be displayèd every puissant arm wherewith the for’eigners work their foemen harm.

64

To this the doughty Chieftain deals reply, through one that óbscure jargon knowing well:⁠— “Illustrious Signior! I fain will try all of ourselves, our arms, our creed to tell. Nor of the country, kith or kin am I of irksome races that in Turkey dwell; my home is warlike Europe and I wend Seeking the far-famed lands of farthest Inde.

65

“I hold the law of One by worlds obey’d, by visible things and things invisible; He who the hemispheres from naught hath made, with sentient things and things insensible: Who with vitup’erate foul reproach bewray’d was doomed to suffer death insufferable; And who, in fine, by Heav’n to Earth was given, that man through Him might rise from Earth to Heaven.

66

“Of this God-man most highest, infinite, The books thou wouldst behold I have not brought; we stand excused of bringing what men write on paper, when in sprite ’tis writ and wrought. But an with weapons wouldst refresh thy sight, As thou hast askèd, I deny thee nought; A friend to friends I show them; and I vow ne’er wouldst be shown their temper as my foe.”

67

This said, he bids his armourers diligent bring arms and armour for the Moorman viewer: Come sheeny harness, corselets lucident, the fine-wove mail-coat and plate-armour sure; shields decorate with ’scutcheons different, bullets and spingards, th’ ice-brook’s temper pure; bows, quivers furnisht with the grinded pile, the sharp-edged partisan, the good brown bill:

68

Brought are the fiery bombs, while they prepare sulph’urous stink-pots and grenades of fire: But them of Vulcan biddeth he to spare their dread artill’ery belching flames in ire; naught did that gentle gen’erous spirit care with fear the few and fearful folk t’ inspire, and right his reas’oning: ’Twere a boast too cheap to play the Lyon on the seely Sheep.

69

But from whate’er th’ observant Moorman heard, and from whate’er his prying glance could see, a settled deadly hate his spirit stir’d, and evil crave of treach’erous cowardrie: No sign of change he showed in gest or word; but with a gay and gallant feigning he vowèd in looks and words to treat them fair, till deeds his daring purpose could declare.

70

The Captain prayed him Pilots to purvey, his Squadron far as Indian shore to guide; so should with wealthy hire and worthy pay the labourer’s toil and moil be gratified. Promised the Moorman sorely led astray by ven’omous heart and with such poyson’d pride, that Death in place of Pilot, at that hour, his hand had given an it had the power.

71

So hot that hatred, sharp that enmity, wherewith his spirit ’gainst his guests was fraught, that knew them followers of that verity by the Seed of David to our fathers taught. Oh darkling secret of Eternity, whereof man’s judgment may encompass naught! Why should they never lack perfidious foe, who such fair symbols of Thy friendship show?

72

At length, surrounded by his crafty crew, the treachour Moorman from our ships took leave, on all bestowing bel-accoyle untrue, with fair, glad phrase designèd to deceive. Soon o’er the narrow way his barquelets flew; and, landing safely from Neptunian wave, the Moorman, whom his suite obsequious greet, regains his homestead and his wonted seat.

73

From Aether’s radiant seat Thebes’ mighty son, The God two-mother’d, sprung from father-thigh, seeing the Lusian host had straight begun the Moorman’s hate and horror to defy, fixt ev’ery project some foul feat upon, by which the stranger host might surely die: And while the plot his spirit importunèd, thus in soliloquy the God communèd:⁠—

74

“Fate hath determinèd in olden time, that conquests, fit the self of Fame t’ outface, these Portingalls shall claim in ev’ery clime where India rears her war-ennobled race: Shall only I, the son of sire sublime, I, whom such gen’erous gifts and guerdons grace, suffer that favouring Fate success assure to men whose labours shall my name obscure?

75

“Erst willed the Gods, who willed away the right to Philip’s son, that o’er this Orient part he hold such power, and display such might which bound the world ’neath yoke of angry Mart: But shall I tamely suffer Fate’s despight, who lends these weaklings pow’er of arm and art, Macedon’s hero, Roman brave and I before the Lusian name be doomed to fly?

76

“This must not, shall not be! ere he arrive this froward Captain at his fancied goal, such cunning machinations I’ll contrive never shall Orient parts his sight console: And now to Earth! where I will keep alive the fire of fury in the Moorish soul; for him shall Fortune with success indue, who on Occasion keepeth fixèd view.”

77

He spoke infuriate, nay, well-nigh insane, and straight he ’lighted on the Negro shore; where, mortal gest and human vesture tane, he made for Prasum Headland famed of yore: Better to weave his web of wily bane, he changed his nat’ural shape until it wore a Moorman’s likeness, known in Mozambíque, a crafty greybeard, favoured of the Shaykh.

78

And, entering him to rede at hour and time most fitting deemèd for designèd wile, a tale of pyracy he told and crime, wrought by the strangers harbour’d in his isle: How all the res’ident nations maritime bruited reports of battle, death, and spoil, at ev’ery haven, where the for’eigner past who with false pacts of peace his anchors cast.

79

“And, know thou further” (quoth the Moor) “ ’tis said, anent these Christian knaves sanguinolent, that, so to speak, they garred the waves run red scathing with fire and steel where’er they went: Far-framèd plottings, certès, have been laid against ourselves, for ’tis their whole intent our homes to rifle, to destroy our lives, enchain our children and enslave our wives.

80

“I also learnèd how determined be forthwith for wat’ering to’ward the land to steer, this Captain, with a doughty company; for evil purpose ever ’getteth fear. Go, too, and take thy men-at-arms with thee, waiting him silent in well-ambusht rear; so shall his People, landing unawares fall ready victims to thy ruse and snares.

81

“And, even should they by this not’able feat fail to be scatter’d, shatter’d, wholly slain, I have imaginèd a rare conceit of marv’ellous cunning which thy heart shall gain: A pilot bid be brought of wily wit nor less astute to lay the skilful train, who shall the stranger lead where bane and bale, loss, death, destruction wait on every sail.”

82

These words of wisdom hardly had he stay’d, when the Moor-chieftain, old in fraud and wise, fell on his bosom and full glad obey’d, such counsel finding favour in his eyes: Then instant faring forth he ready made for the base warfare bellicose supplies; so might the Lusians see, when gained the shore, the wisht-for waters turned to crimson gore.

83

And, eke, he seeketh, such deceit to speed, a Muslim Loadsman who the prows shall guide, shrewd, subtle villain, prompt to wicked deed, whereon for dangerous feat he most relied: Him he commands the Lusitan to lead, and with him hug such coasts and stem such tide, that e’en escaping present dangers all he further wend, and whence none rise shall fall.

84

Already lit Apollo’s morning ray the Nabathaean mounts with rosy light, when dight was Gama and his stout array by sea for wat’ering on the land t’ alight: Their boats the soldiers armed for fight and fray as though they scented tricks of Muslim spite: Here was suspicion easy, for the wise bear a presaging heart that never lies.

85

Further, the messenger who went ashore to claim the promise of the needful guide, heard tone of battle when replied the Moor, though none had deemèd he had thus replied. Wherefore, and recking ’right how sore their stowre who in perfidious enemy confide, he fared forearm’d, forewarn’d, and risking nought, in his three launches⁠—all the boats he brought.

86

But now the Moormen, stalking o’er the strand to guard the wat’ery stores the strangers need; this, targe on arm and assegai in hand, that, with his bended bow, and venom’d reed, wait till the warlike People leap to land: Far stronger forces are in ambush hid; and, that the venture may the lighter seem a few decoys patrol about the stream.

87

Along the snow-white sandy marge advance the bellic Moors who beck their coming foes; they shake the shield and poise the per’ilous lance, daring the warrior Portughuese to close. The gen’erous People with impatient glance the bandogs eye who dare their fangs expose: They spring ashore so deftly no man durst say who the soldier that touch’ed land the first.

88

As in the gory ring some gallant gay, on his fair ladye-love with firm-fixt eyes, seeketh the furious bull and bars the way, bounds, runs, and whistles; becks and shouts and cries: The cruel monster sans a thought’s delay, low’ering its hornèd front, in fury flies with eyne fast closed; and, roaring horrid sound, throws, gores, and leaves him lifeless on the ground:

89

Lo! from the launches sudden flash the lights of fierce artill’ery with infuriate blare; the leaden bullet kills, the thunder frights, and hissing echoes cleave the shrinking air: Now break the Moormen’s hearts and haughty sprites, whose blood cold curdleth with a ghastly fear: The skulking coward flies his life to save, and dies to Death exposed the daring brave.

90

Withal the Portingalls are not content; fierce Vict’ory urging on, they smite and slay: The wall-less, undefended settlement they shell and burn and make an easy prey. The Moors their raid and razzia sore repent, who lookt for vict’ory won in cheaper way: Now they blaspheme the battle, cursing wild th’ old meddling fool, and her that bare such child.

91

Still, in his flight, the Moorman draweth bow, but forceless, frighted, flurried by alarms, showers of ashlar, sticks, and stones they throw; their madding fury ’ministereth arms: Now from their islet-homesteads flocking row toward the mainland, trembling terr’ified swarms: They pass apace and cut the narrow Sound, The thin sea-arm, which runs their islet round.

92

These ply the deeply-laden almadie, those cut the waves and dil’igent swim the Main; some choke ’neath bending surge of surfy sea, some drink the brine, out-puffing it again. The crank canoes, wherein the vermin flee, are torn by smaller bombards’ fiery rain. Thuswise, in fine, the Portingalls chastise their vile, malicious, treach’erous enemies.

93

Now to the squadron, when the day was won, rich with their warlike spoils the Braves retire, and ship at leisure water all their own, none meet offence where none t’ offend desire. The Moors heart-broken vainly make their moan, old hatreds ’flaming with renewèd fire; and, hopeless to revenge such foul defeat, nourish the fairest hopes of fresh deceit.

94

To proffer truce repentant gives command the Moor who ruleth that iniqu’ous shore; nor do the Lusitanians understand that in fair guise of Peace he proffers War: For the false Pilot sent to show the land who ev’ry evil will embosom’d bore, only to guide them deathwards had been sent;⁠— such was the signal of what peace was meant.

95

The Capitayne who now once more incline’d on wonted way and ’custom’d course to hie, fair weather fav’ouring with propitious wind, and wend where India’s long-wisht regions lie; received the Helmsman for his ill design’d (who greeted was with joyous courtesy;) and, giv’en his answer to the messenger, in the free gale shakes out his sailing gear.

96

Dismist by such device the gallant Fleet divideth Amphitritè’s wavy way; the Maids of Nereus troop its course to greet, faithful companions, debonnair and gay: The Captain, noways doubting the deceit planned by the Moorman to secure his prey, questions him largely, learning all he knows of gen’eral Inde and what each seaboard shows.

97

But the false Moorman, skilled in all the snares which baleful Bacchus taught for such emprize, new loss by death or prison-life prepares, ere India’s seaboard glad their straining eyes: The hythes of India dil’igent he declares, to frequent queries off’ring fit replies: For, holding faithful all their pilot said the gallant People were of nought afraid.

98

And eke he telleth, with that false intent, whereby fell Sinon baulked the Phrygian race of a near-lying isle, that aye had lent to Christian dwellers safest dwelling-place. Our Chief, of tidings fain, gave due attent of ear so gladly to these words of grace, that with the richest gifts he bade the Guide lead him to regions where such men abide.

99

E’en so that losel Moorman had designèd, as the confiding Christian begged and bade; knowing his islet was of old assignèd to the malignant sons of Mafamed: Here he foresees deceit with death combinèd, for-that in pow’r and force the place outweigh’d weaker Mozámbic; and that islet’s name is Quiloa bruited by the blast of Fame.

100

Thither th’ exulting Squadron lief would steer: but the fair god Cythéra loves to greet, seeing its certain courses changed to near the coasts where Doom of Death awaits defeat, nills that the people, loved with love so dear, such dreadful fates on shore so distant meet; and, raising adverse gales, she drives them wide from the foul goal where guides that felon guide.

101

Now when the caitiff Moor could not but know that in this matter useless was his guile, seeking to deal another dev’ilish blow, and still persistent in his purpose vile, he urgeth, since the winds’ and currents’ flow had borne them on parforce full many a mile, they near another island, and its race Christian and Moor hold common dwelling-place.

102

Here too with every word the liar lied, as by his reg’iment he in fine was bound; for none who Christ adore could there abide, only the hounds who worship false Mahound. The Captain trustful to his Moorish guide, veering the sails was making for the Sound: But, as his guardian Goddess leave denieth, he shuns the river-bar, and outside lieth.

103

So near that Islet lay along the land, nought save a narrow channel stood atween; and rose a City thronèd on the strand, which from the margent of the seas was seen; fair-built with lordly buildings tall and grand, as from its offing showèd all its sheen: Here ruled a monarch for long years high famèd; Islet and City are Mombasah namèd.

104

And when the Captain made that happy shore, with strangest joyaunce, in the hope to view baptizèd peoples, and to greet once more dear Christian men, as sware his guide untrue; lo! boats come bearing, the blue waters o’er their King’s good greeting who the stranger knew: For long had Bacchus of th’ event advisèd, in other Moorman’s shape and form disguisèd.

105

Friendly the message which the foemen brought, beneath whose surface covered venom lay; for deadly hostile was their ev’ry thought and soon the hidden fraud uncover’d they. Oh dreadful dangers with destruction fraught! Oh line of life-tide, never certain way! where’er his dearest hope poor mortal hoardeth, such scant security life e’er affordeth!

106

By sea such tempests, such sore injury, with Death so often showing near and sure! By land such warfare, such foul treachery, so much of curst necessities t’ endure! Ah! where shall weary man take sanctuary, where live his little span of life secure? and ’scape of Heav’n serene th’ indignant storms that launch their thunders at us earthen worms?

Instigated by the Demon, the King of Mombasah aimeth at destroying the Navigators: He plotteth treason against them under the fiction of friendship: Venus appeareth to Jupiter, and intercedeth for the Portugueze: He promiseth her to favour them and prophetically relateth some feats which they shall perform in the East: Mercury discloseth himself to the Gama in a dream, and warneth him to shun the dangers of Mombasah: They weigh anchor and reach Melinde, whose King receiveth the Captain with favour and hospitality.

Mombasah’s King untimely end hath laid (1⁠–⁠17) For famous Gama by his fell deceit: Descending seawards, Venus saves th’ Armade, (18⁠–⁠32) and fares on high her sovran Sire to greet, (33⁠–⁠43) She learns our future lot by Jove’s good aid: (44⁠–⁠55) appeareth Mercury to Lusus’ fleet, (56⁠–⁠71) It makes Melindé, where a potent Chief (72⁠–⁠End) within his harbour lendeth glad relief.

1

’Twas now the period when the Planet bright, whose race distinguisheth the hours of day, did at his longed-for, tardy goal alight, veiling from human eyne his heav’enly ray; and of his Ocean-home, deep hid from sight, the God of Night-tide oped the portal-way; when the false crafty folk came flocking round the ships, whose anchors scarce had bit the ground.

2

’Mid them a villain, who had undertane the task of deadly damage, spake aloud:⁠— “O val’orous Captain, who hast cut the reign of Neptune, and his salty plain hast plow’d, the King who governeth this island, fain to greet thy coming, is so pleased and proud, he wisheth nothing save to be thy host, to see thee, and supply what need ye most.

3

“And, as he burneth, with extreme desire, so famed a pers’onage to behold and greet, he prays suspicion may no fear inspire; but cross the bar-line, thou and all thy Fleet; And, sith by voyage long men greatly tire, thy gallant crew by travel-toil is beat, he bids thee welcome to refit on land as, cèrtes, Nature must such rest command.

4

“And if thou wendest seeking merchandise got in the golden womb of the Levant, Cinnamon, cloves, and biting spiceries, health-dealing drug, or rare and excellent plant; or, if thou lust for sparkling stones of price, the Ruby fine, the rigid Diamant, hence shall thou bear such full, abundant store, that e’en thy Fancy shall affect no more.”

5

Unto the Herald straight our Chief replieth, grateful acknowledging the Royal hest; and saith, that seeing Sol now seawards hieth he may not enter as becomes a guest: But, when returning light shall show where lieth the way sans danger, with a fearless breast, the Royal orders he will list fulfil, a Lord so gracious hath claim higher still.

6

He questions further, an the land contain christenèd Peoples, as the Pilot sware: The cunning Herald who ne’er speaks in vain voucheth that Christian men dwell mostly there. Thus doth he banish from our Captain’s brain the cautious fantasies of doubt and fear: Wherefore the Gama straightways ’gan to place Faith in that faithless unbeliever-race.

7

And, as condemnèd felons he had brought, convìct of mortal crime and shameful deed, who might in sim’ilar cases danger-fraught be ventured where the common weal had need; a twain of wily, well-tried wits he sought, bade them the Moorman’s craft and trick’eries heed, go spy the City’s power, and seek to see whether desirèd Christians there may be.

8

Fair gifts he gave them for the Royal hand, to quit the goodly will the greeting show’d, by him held sure and firm and clear and bland, whereas ’twas cleanly of a cont’rary mode. Now all the rout perfidious and nefand, quitting the Squadron o’er the waters row’d: With gladsome, joyous gestures, all deceit, The pair of shipmates on the shore they greet.

9

And when in presence of the King convey’d, the gifts they gave, and message did present, far less they witness’d, as ’bout town they stray’d, than what they wanted on their work intent; the shrewd sagacious Moors pretences made to veil from sight what they to see were sent; for where reigns Malice there we ever find the fear of Malice in a neighbour’s mind.

10

But He, for ever fair, for ever young in form and feature, born of mothers twain by wondrous birth-rite; and whose wilful tongue would work the Navigators’ ban and bane⁠— dwelt in a house the City-folk among, of form and vestment human; who did feign to be a Christian priest, and here had raisèd a sumptuous altar where he prayed and praisèd.

11

There had he limnèd, figuring aright the Holy Ghost’s high heavenly portraiture; hover’d a Dove, in snowy plume bedight, o’er the sole Phoenix, Mary, Virgin pure: The Saintly Company was shown to sight, the Dozen, in that sore discomfiture, as when, taught only by the Tongues that burnt with lambent fire, man’s varied tongues they learnt.

12

Thither conducted either Comrade went, where hateful Bacchus stood in lies array’d; and rose their spirits, while their knees were bent before the God who sways the worlds He made. The perfumed incense by Panchaia sent, fuming its richest scent, o’ th’ altar laid Thyóne’s Son; and now they view, forsooth, the god of Lies adore the God of Truth.

13

Here was receiv’ed, for kindly rest at night, with ev’ery mode of good and trusty greeting, the twain of Christians, who misween’d the rite, th’ unholy show of holy counterfeiting. But soon as Sol returning rained his light on sombre Earth, and in one instant fleeting forth from the ruddy-dyed horizon came the Spouse Tithonian with her front aflame:

14

Return the Moormen bearing from the land the Royal licence, with the Christian pair, that disembarkèd by our Chief’s command, for whom the King feign’ed honest friendship fair: The Portingall, assured no plot was plan’d, and seeing scanty fear of scathe or snare when Christian peoples in the place abode, to stem the salty river straightway stood.

15

Advisèd him the scouts dispatcht ashore that holy clerk and altars met their sight; and how receivèd them the friendly Moor while Night’s cloud-shadowèd mantle cloaked the light; Nay, that both Lord and Liege no feeling bore, save what in kindness took a dear delight, for, certès, nothing told of doubt or fear, where proofs of friendship showèd sure and clear.

16

Whereon the noble Gama hied to greet gladly the Moors that up the bulwarks plied; for lightly trusteth sprite without deceit; and gallant souls in goodly show confide. The crafty people on the Flagship meet, mooring their light canoes along her side: Merrily trooped they all, because they wot the wisht-for prizes have become their lot.

17

The cautious warmen gather on the land arms and ’munitions; that whene’er th’ Armade ride at her anchors near the riv’erine strand the work of boarding may be readier made: With deepest treachery the traitors plan’d for those of Lusus such an ambuscade, that reckless of the coming doom they pay the blood-debt dating from Mozámbic Bay.

18

Weighed are the biting anchors, rising slow, while ’customed capstan-songs and shouts resound; only the foresails to the gale they throw as for the buoyèd bar the Ships are bound: But Erycína fair, from ev’ry foe aye glad to guard and guide her Race renown’d, seen the black ambush big with deadly bane, flies from the welkin shaft-swift to the Main.

19

She musters Nereus’ maidens fair and blonde, with all the meiny of the sea-blue race; the Water-princes her commandment own’d, for the salt Ocean was her natal place: Then, told the reason why she sought the lond, with her whole bevy forth she set apace, to stay the Squadron ere it reach the bourne whence ne’er a Traveller may to life return.

20

On, on they hurry, scatt’ring high the spray, and lash with silvern trains the spumy White: Doto’s soft bosom breasts the briny way with hotter pressure than her wonted plight. Springs Nisé, while Neríne seeks the fray clearing the crystal wavelets nimble light: The bending billows open wide a path, fearing to rouse the hurrying Nereids’ wrath.

21

Borne on a Triton’s shoulders rides in state with fiery gesture, Dionaea fair; nor feels the bearer that delicious weight, superb his cargo of such charms to bear: Now draw they nearer where stiff winds dilate the bellicose Armada’s sailing gear: They part, and sudden with their troops surround the lighter vessels in the vayward bound.

22

Girt by her nymphs the Goddess lays her breast against the Flagship’s prow, and others close the harbour-entrance; such their sudden gest the breeze through bellied canvas vainly blows: With tender bosom to tough timber prest she drives the sturdy ship that sternward goes: Her circling Nereids raise and urge afar the threatened victim from the hostile bar.

23

E’en as to nesty homes the prov’ident Ants, their heavy portion’d burdens haling slow, drill their small legions, hostile combatants, ’gainst hostile Winter’s war of frost and snow: There are their travails given to their wants, there puny bodies mighty spirits show: Not otherwise the Nymphs from fatal end labour the Portughuezes to defend.

24

Their force prevails; astern the Flagship falleth, ’spite all aboard her raising fearful shout; boiling with rage the Crew each yardarm hauleth to port and starboard putting helm about: Apoop the cunning Master vainly bawleth, seeing that right toforn upon his route, uprears a sea-girt rock its awful head, and present shipwreck fills his soul with dread.