Luis de Camoes Collected Poetical Works
Page 17
that Tethys rising cries indignantly,
“Well kens King Neptune what commanded! he.”
Now there superb Hippotades gave vent 37
to furious Winds erst pent in prison-hold;
the while his wilful words fresh fury lent,
against the Lusian Barons brave and bold.
Sudden the summer-vault with clouds was sprent,
for Winds, still growing fierce with rage untold,
gather as on they go fresh might and main,
house, tow’er, and hillock strewing o’er the plain.
While thus in Council met the Gods’ array 38
beneath the Seas, before soft breezes float
our joyous weary Ships, and hold their way
o’er tranquil Ocean on the long new route.
The hour was that when hangs the Lamp of Day
from hemisphere Eoan most remote:
They of night’s early watch lay down to sleep,
while others waked the second ward to keep.
Drows’iness mastered, all half-numbed and chill 39
shivered with many a yawn the huddling Crew
beneath the bulging main-sail, clothed ill
to bear the nightly breath that keenly blew;
their eyes, kept open sore against their will,
they rubbed, and stretcht their torpid limbs anew:
To seek a waking-draught the men devise,
spin stories, tell a thousand histories.
One ‘gan to say, “Wherewith may better we 40
spur tardy Time who lags so sore and slow,
save with some pretty tale of joyaunce gay
that heavy slumber trouble us no me?”
Replied Le’onardo, truest lover he,
whose firm and constant thought was aye aglow:
“What tale our tardy breasts may better move
and kill old Time than some fair Lay of Love?”
“‘Twere not, methinks,” Velloso said, “thing meet 41
on theme so soft in hours so hard to dwell;
the rough Sea-labours, which do fag the fleet,
Love’s delicatest fancies rudely quell:
Rather of fervid fight and battle-feat
be now our story, for I see full well,
life is all hardship, and good sooth I wis
more trouble cometh; something tells me this.”
All with his words consenting joint assail 42
Velloso to recount whate’er he knew.
“I will recount,” quoth he, “nor shall you rail
at aught that seemeth fabulous or new:
And that my hearers learn from this my tale
high proofs of forceful deed to dare and do,
e’en of my countrymen I’ll say my say; —
the Twelve of England shall adorn my lay.
“When of our Reign the curbing rein so light 43
John, son of Pedro, held with mod’erate hand;
and when his Realm had ‘scaped the bane and blight
oft dealt by hate of hostile neighbour-land;
there in great England, where the rain falls white
from Boreal snow-drift, fierce Erinnys plan’d
to sow the dil’igent tares of wanton strife,
and make our Lusitania lustre-rife.
“Betwixt the gentle Dames of th’ English Court 44
and high-born Courtier-crowd, one day it came
that horrid Discord showed her dreadful port;
of self-will sprung, or faith in common fame.
The Courtier-throng that lightly loves in sport
and careless mood to bruit the gravest shame,
sware Honour they disprov’d, and Honesty
in certain Dames, who boasted Dames to be.
“Nay, more, if any Knight uphold as true, 45
and with his brand and lance the cause defend,
in lists or rased field, the same should rue
foul infamy, or come to cruel end:
The woman-weakness which but little knew,
if e’er, such foul reproach, and yet which ken’d
its want of nat’ural force could only crave
their friends to succour and their kin to save.
“But as their sland’erers great and puissant were 46
throughout the kingdom, none the cause would heed;
nor kith, nor friends, nor fervid lovers dare
support the Dames in darkest hour of need:
Tempting with delicate tear and doleful air
the very Gods to rise in arms, and aid
from Heav’en, for sake of alabaster brows,
to ducal Lancaster the Bevy goes.
“This lord was English and in doughty fight 47
against Castile for Portugale made war,
wherein he proved the noble force and sprite
of his companions, and their favouring star:
Nor less within our realm he saw the might
of Love, whose am’orous feats as forceful are,
when his fair daughter so the heart did win
of our stout King that chose her for his Queen.
He who in person succour must withhold, 48
lest fire of civil discord thus be fan’d,
replied:—’ When I my rights upheld of old
to Spanish kingdom in th’ Iberian land,
I saw in Lusia’s sons a soul so bold,
such primacy of heart, such open hand,
that they, and only they, I deem, shall dare
with brand and firebrand for your case to care.
“‘And, if, aggrieved Dames! ye hold it meet 49
I’ll send my Heralds speaking in your name,
while let your letters, courteous and discreet,
declare your insult, and bewail your shame.
Eke on your side, with pretty phrases sweet,
and soft caresses, let each injured Dame
temper her tears, and venture I to say
you shall strong succour see and steadfast stay.’
“Thus doth the Duke experienced speak his mind, 50
and of his bravest friends twelve names he quotes:
That suit’able Champion be to each assign’d,
he wills the named Knights be chose by lots;
because the Dames be twelve; and when they find
which Brave to which Belle-dame his life devotes,
each unto each shall write and claim her rights,
all to their King, the Duke to all the Knights.
“The mess’enger now in Lusia-lond arriveth; 51
the Court rejoiceth at such novelty:
Our King sublime to ‘list the foremost striveth,
but suffereth not the kingly dignity:
No courtier but whose valiant sprite aspireth
to volunteer with fervid volunty,
and only he high favour’d is proclaimed
whom for such noble feat the Duke hath named.
“There in the loyal City whence (’tis said 52
by olden Fame), arose the name eternal
of Portugalia, a nimble barque he bade
be ‘quipt, who holds the helm of rule internal.
The Twelve in briefest season ready made
arms and accoutrements of use hodiernal;
helms, crests, and mottoes of choice mode they choose
horse, selle, and harness of a thousand hues.
“Now, when dismissed by their King had been, 53
sail from the Douro regions famed afar,
the luck-loved Twelve, who did th’ approval win
of England’s Duke experienced in war.
Amid the dozen was no difference seen
in chivalry, while skill and strength were par;
then one, Magriso hight, and only he
this way addrest the doughty company: —
“‘ Valiantest comrades! longings manifold 54
I nurst for many a year the world t’ explore,
Rivers by Tagus nor by Douro roll’d,
various nations, laws, and varied lore:
And now that matters fit in certain mould
(since Earth of marvels hath extended store),
I would, an leave ye give, alone go round
by land, and meet you upon English ground.
“‘And, should I haply ‘counter let or stay, 55
from Him who holds of things the ultime line,
and fail to find you on our trysting day,
scant fault to you shall bring default of mine.
You all shall do my duty in the fray;
but, an my prescient sprite the Truth divine,
ne stream, ne mount, ne jealous Fate hath pow’er
to nill I hail you at th’ appointed hour.’
“Thus spake Magrigo and, his friends embraced, 56
he fareth forwards when their leave was tane:
In Leon and Castile’s old realms he tracéd
sites patrial Mars had granted us to gain:
Navarre and all the dang’erous heads he faced
of Pyrenee departing Gaul from Spain;
and, seen of France the highest scenes and best,
in Flanders’ grand emporium took his rest.
“There halting, or by chance or whim’s command, 57
for days he tarried, making much delay:
Meanwhile the stout Elev’en, a glorious band,
plow northern waters scattering freezy spray.
Arrived on stranger England’s distant strand,
at once to London-town all took the way:
The Duke receives them in his festive hall,
the Dames do service, greeting one and all.
“Now Time and Tide are ready for the fight 58
with th’ English Twelve who first afield are shown,
chose by their King, right sure of every Knight:
Helms, crests, greaves, coats, and harnesses they don:
The Dames already deem the fulgent might
of Portugalia’s Mavors all their own:
In golden owche and rainbow-silks yclad
and thousand jewels, sit they gay and glad.
“But she, who claimed by the chance of lot, 59
missing Magrigo, drest in mourning dyes
sits sad; for she and only she hath not
a knightly champion in this high emprize:
Though our Elev’en proclaimed on the spot,
to England’s Court, of battle such assize,
‘that mote the Dames their cause victorious call,
though of their champions two or three may fall.
“Now in the lofty publick Lists convene, 60
the King of England and his suite and Court:
In threes by threes, and fours by fours are seen
spectators ranged by the rule of sort.
From Tage to Bactrus ne’er did Sol, I ween,
flame on such force and fierceness, power and port,
as on those English Twelve, who leave their walls
to front Eleven of our Portingalls.
“Champing their golden bits, fleckt spumy white, 61
the chargers cast fierce fiery looks askance:
On arms and armour Phoebus danceth bright
as on dure adamant or chrystal glance:
Not less on either side astound the sight
numbers unequal, a quaint dissonance,
to twelve eleven matched: Begins the crowd
to vent its general joyaunce long and loud.
“All turn their faces curious to see 62
where loudest bruit and hottest bate arise:
When lo! a horseman, armed cap-a-pie,
pricks o’er the plain to claim of war the prize:
Saluting King and Dames, straight rideth he
to his Eleven:’Tis the great Magrice:
With warmest accolade his friends he haileth,
whom in the battle, certés, ne’er he faileth.
“The Ladye, hearing that the man was there, 63
who would in combat guard her name and fame,
wends glad the fleece of Helle’s beast to wear,
which more than Virtue vulgar hearts doth claim:
They cry, ‘ Let go!’ and now the trump’s shrill blare
fireth the warrior-heart with fiercer flame:
All prick at once the spur, all slack the bit,
all couch the lances; earth by fire is lit.
“The tramp of destr’iers riseth with a noise 64
as though some quake of earth rolled ‘neath their tread:
Heart-strings in bosoms flutter; gazing eyes
are fixt in mingled sense of joy and dread:
This, from his charger not dismounting flies;
that groaneth falling with his falling steed;
this hath his snow-white mail with vermeil dyed;
that, with his helm-plume flogs his courser’s side.
“Some sleep to wake no more, in lasting swoon 65
passing from life to death with hasty course:
Horses sans riders here o’er tilt-yard run,
and there the rider runs without the horse:
Now falleth English pride from off her throne;
for two or three depart the Pale parforce,
while they the battle-brand who came to wield,
find more than harness holds, or mail, or shield.
“To waste long words and War’s extremes to show 66
of slashing cuts, and thrusts of cruel pain,
were work of wastrel-men who, well we trow,
of leisure lavish, vainest dream’ery feign:
Let it in fine suffice that all ye know
how with the fame of high finesse, remain
Victory’s palms with us; and ev’ery Dame
a glorious victress, did retrieve her fame.
“The Duke our conqu’ering Twelve forthwith invites 67
where ring his halls with feast and wassail gay:
Hunters and kitcheners to toil incites
of the Twelve Dames that goodly company;
who glad had lavisht on their saviour Knights
a thousand banquets ev’ery hour o’ the day,
long as on English-land they list to roam,
before returning to the dear-loved home.
“Withal, the great Magrico, men declare, 68
wishing the Wonders of the World to view,
abroad remained and performed there
for Flanders’ Countess not’able service true:
And be’ing no carpet-knight, but prompt to dare
what exploits, Mars! thou biddest man to do
He slew a Frank in field; and thus had he
Torquatus’ and Corvinus’ destiny.
“Of the stout Twelve another cast his lot 69
in Almayne, where him fiercely challenged
a wily German, who had planned such plot
his life depended from a single thread.”
Velloso ceasing here, his mates besought
he would not leave the glorious tale unsaid
anent Magrico, and the meed he met,
nor e’en the caitiff German Knight forget.
But at this passage when each prickt his ear, 70
behold! the Master conning sky and cloud,
pipeth his whistle; waken as they hear
starboard and larboard all the startled crowd:
And, as the breeze blew freshening shrill and sheer,
he bade them take in topsails shouting loud
“Yarely, my lads! look out, the wind increases
from you black thunder-cloud before our faces.”
Scarce were the foresails hurr’iedly taken in, 71
when sharp and sudden bursts the roaring gale:
“Furl!” cried the Master with as loud a din,
“Furl!” cried he, “Furl for life the mainmastsail!”
The furious gusts wait not till they begin
&nb
sp; furling the canvas; but conjoint assail
and tear it with such crash to shreds and tatters
as though a ruined world the Storm-wind shatters.
Meanwhile the Crew with cries the welkin tore, 72
in panick fear and gen’eral disaccord;
for as the canvas split, the hull heel’d o’er,
broad sheets of water shipping by the board.
“Heave!” roared the Master with a mighty roar,
“Heave overboard your all, tog’ether’s the word!
Others go work the pumps, and with a will:
The pumps! and sharp, look sharp, before she fill!”
Hurrieth to ply the pumps the soldier-host, 73
but ere they reached them, the rolling sea
and tem’erous waves the ship so pitcht and tost,
all lost their footing falling to the lee.
Three stalwart sailors who best thews could boast,
sufficed not to make the helm work free;
tackles to starboard, yokes to port they lashed,
yet all their pow’er and practice stood abashed.
Such were the gale-gusts, never Tempest blew 74
with more of cruel will, of feller stowre,
as though its mission were t’ uproot and strew
on plain of Babel, Babel’s tallest tow’er:
‘Mid the great washing waves that greater grew,
dwindled the puissant Ship to stature lower
than her own cock; and ’twas a thing of fear,
seeing her in such surges swim and steer.
The sturdy craft that Paul da Gama bears, 75
beareth her mainmast broken clean in twain
and well-nigh water-logged: The crew in prayers,
calls upon Him who came to ransom men.
Nor less vain clamours to the empty airs
Coelho’s vessel casts by fear o’ertane;
though there the Master had more caution shown,
furling his canvas ere the storm came down.
In air the Ships are thrown with ev’ery throw 76
of furious Neptune’s crests that kissed the cloud:
Anon appeared the keels to settle low
where horrid Glooms the deep sea-bowels shroud.
While Notus, Auster, Boreas, Aquilo
the world-machine to wreck and ruin crowd:
Gleamed and glared pitchy hideous night
with Leven burning all the polar height.
The Halcyon birds their melancholy wail 77
piped, as they cowered on the salvage shore;
remembering aye the wrongful long-past tale
of woes the waters wrought to them of yore:
Meanwhile th’enamoured Dolphins fled the gale
to sheltering grottos in the deep-sea floor,
although the mighty winds and mightier waves
threatened danger in their deepest caves.