some mode of aidance in what things I may,
far as our force o’er man extendeth sway.
“And, seen how hateful Bacchus hath beguile’d, 39
with mortal plots, their course on Indie plain,
and how by wavy Ocean’s injuries foil’d
rather than tired they were lost or slain:
I will that in this sea to them so wild,
‘mid ever restless waves their rest be tane:
Here shall they gather guerdon sweet and glorious
of toils that make the names of men memorious.
“Wherefore I pray thee, Son! forthwith go fire 40
the Nereus-maidens on their deep-sea ground;
burn they with Lusian love, bring warm desire
to these Explorers of a world new found,
all in an Islet joined in glorious choir,
an Isle unknown in Ocean-depths profound
embowel’d, I will haste on high to raise
where lovely Flora with her Zephyr plays:
“There with a thousand sherbets, odorous wine, 41
delicious viands, perfumed breath of roses,
in sing’ular scenes of palace chrystalline,
fair couches, fairer what on couch reposes;
with thousand joys unvulgar shall, in fine,
each Nymph await the Brave her fancy chooses
and all love-smitten, longing to bestow
what Hope can figure, or what eyes can show.
“’Tis my good will that in the Neptune-reign, 42
my place of birth, a fair brave race be born,
which a shrewd proof shall be to worlds malign,
and to the rebels who thine empire scorn;
that nought shall save, ne mure adamantine
ne triste Hypocrisy, these men forsworn:
Ne’er shall these earth-things hope their selves to save
when burn immortal Love-fires ‘neath the wave.”
Thus willeth Venus and her wilful Boy 43
obeys, and flies to see her will be done;
he bids them bring his bow of ivory,
with golden-headed arrows many a one:
The Cyprian with glad gest of wanton joy
within her chariot receives her son;
and slacks the bridles for the Birds whose song
the Phaetonian death wailed loud and long.
But Cupid warneth that still wants their scheme 44
a famous Go-between of high degree
who, though a thousand times she baulked his aim,
a thousand times firm friend prefer’d to be.
Gigantia was the Goddess, daring dame,
vain-glorious, boastful, false and true was she
who sees with hundred eyne, flies every where
and that she sees a thousand tongues declare.
They wend to seek and send her on in state, 45
to blow her trumpet of the clearest strain;
and so the wandering Braves to celebrate,
as never mortals could such praises gain:
Now Fame, with murm’uring sounds that penetrate,
flies through the deepest grottos of the Main:
and scatt’ereth Truth believed true to be;
for Fame’s own gossip is Credulity.
These goodly lauds, and rumours excellent 46
the hearts of God and Goddess, whilom fired
by Bacchus and to harm the Heroes bent,
changed and with something likest love inspired.
The fem’inine bosom, ever diligent
in shifting will, of settled will soon tired,
now crieth cru’elty, shame and over zeal
for such high valour evil will to feel.
Meanwhile the litlier Lad had loosed his bow 47
shaft urging shaft; loud groans from Ocean rise:
They pierce point-blank the waves that restless flow
these straight, those whirling in a spiral guise:
The fair Nymphs fall and breathe the secret throe,
the ‘bosomed burthen of their burning sighs;
each falls ere seen the face that makes her die,
for oft the ear hath loved before the eye.
Now of his iv’ory Lune the cusps drew near, 48
with might and main th’ indomitable Boy,
who fired at Tethys more than any fair,
for-that was she to love the coyest coy.
Now of its arrows is the quiver bare,
nor lives in sea-plain Nymph her life to ‘joy;
and, if the wounded breathe a living breath
’tis but to savour that they strive with Death.
Give way, ye tall cerulean waves, give way! 49
for look ye, Venus brings her medicine,
showing the snow-white belly’ing sails that stray
o’er swelling crests of billows Neptunine:
That thou reciprocal response convey,
Oh ardent Love! to longings feminine,
an honest modesty must ne’er withstand
whatever Venus deigneth to command.
Now the fair Nereid-choir itself enrol’d; 50
and side by side the gentle bevy sped
with tripping dances, usance known of old,
straight for that Island whither Venus led:
And there the Goddess ‘gan to all unfold
her thousand feats of loving hardihed:
They, to be victims of sweet Love prepared,
each trick would try and dare whate’er she daréd.
Cutting the broad highway the vessels ride 51
o’er ample Ocean seeking Home’s dear shore,
wishing but cool sweet water to provide
for their long voyage briny waters o’er:
When all attonce with start of joy descried
Love’s Isle rise lovely stretched their eyes before,
as bursting radiant through the morning air
rose Memnon’s Mother delicately fair.
The bien and bonny Isle afar they hail, 52
by Venus wafted through the wavy flood,
(e’en as the Zephyrs waft the snow-white sail)
whither the sturdy Fleet fast sailing stood;
and lest unheeding pass the crews, and fail
there to take harbour as she willed they should,
right on their courses threw her lovely bower
that Acidalian of omnip’otent power.
Firm and immobile she disposed it where 53
she saw the seamen seek and shape their way;
so fixt stood Delos when Latona bare
Phoebus and her who joys in forestry.
Thither the hurrying Prores thro’ Ocean tare
where bends the seaboard in a little bay
quiet and curved, upon whose snow-white sand
her rosy shells strewed Cytherea’s hand.
Three fairy hillocks threefold headlets showed 54
swelling superbly gracious to the sight,
whose greeny clothing grass-enamel’d glowed,
in that fair joyous Island of Delight:
While glassy-clear three limpid fountains flowed
from peaks with gleaming verdure deckt and dight;
and from the milk-white rocks derived flow
fugitive wavelets, prattling as they go.
Down a sweet dale that dints the hillocks, glide 55
the sparkling waters to their trysting-place,
and make a table of so fair a tide;
never could Fancy such a landskip trace:
O’erhang it graceful groves on ev’ry side
like one who bendeth pranking form and face,
and in the chrystal mirror joys to view
his proper semblance and resemblance true.
Skywards a thousand trees rise tall and straight, 56
apple’d with od’orous fruitage passing rare:
Here th’ Orange painteth on her dainty freight
the hues
that burnt in Daphne’s burnisht hair:
Droops low crusht earthwards by her juicy weight,
The Citron glowing with her saffron gear:
Lemons with scented spherelets deckt and drest
mock budding honours of the maiden’s breast.
The forest-growths that clothe the hillocks trine 57
with frondent ringlets fronts and heads array;
Alcides’ Poplars with the Laurels twine
loved by the laurel’d fair-faxt Lord of Day:
and Cythersea’s Myrtles with the Pine
of Cybele, to strange amour a prey:
The spiring Cypress pointeth to the skies,
where man hath built his air-based Paradise.
Pomona’s choicest gifts spontaneous grow, 58
and all in different taste and gust abound;
no want of cult’uring hand these arbours know,
withouten culture better fares the ground:
Cherries with Tyrian tincture purpled glow;
and Morus eke that mimicks Amor’s sound;
while from her patrial Persia-land the Pome
flourisheth fairer in her foreign home.
Gapes the Granado tints incarnadine 59
whereby, O Ruby! shent is all thy sheen;
‘braced by her husband-Elm the happy Vine
beareth her berried birth, here red, there green.
And ye, O Pears! if long your boughs design
with luscious pyramids to deck the scene,
busk ye to ‘dure what hurt and harm may wreak
to your soft flanks the Bird’s injurious beak.
The gorgeous tapestry, rare colours blending 60
and robing rustick earth with rainbow dye,
makes Achaemenia’s webs the less responding,
yet softer shades on sombre vales to lie.
Here the Cephisian flow’er his head low bending
eyeth the lakelet lucid as the sky:
There Cinyras’ grandson-son still bleeds in bloom,
and, Paphian goddess! still thou wai’st his doom.
‘Twere hard, in sooth, to judge which case be true, 61
where sim’ilar splendours mantle earth and air,
if fair Aurora lend the flow’ers her hue,
or if the flowers lend her hues so fair.
There Zephyr aided Flora to bestrew
Vi’olet with colours Love-wan lovers wear;
with Iris red and freshest blooth of Rose,
which on the Damsel’s cheek all beauteous glows:
The snow-white Lily with the rory tear 62
of Dawntide dripping, and the Mangerona:
Letters on hyacinthine leaves appear,
Hyacinth loved by son of lone Latona:
Each fruit and flow’ering Daisy shows full clear,
that fain would Chloris rival with Pomona.
Then, if the Birds disport on airy wing
Earth has a joyaunce for each four-foot thing.
Along the streamlet sings the snowy Swan, 63,
percht on her spraylet answereth Philomel:
Startled Actaeon stands no more to scan
his horny forehead where the waters well;
Here the fast lev’ret flies the hunter-man
from densest thicket, or the shy gazelle:
There hurrying homewards to her darling brood
the light-wing’d Birdie bears the grateful food.
‘Mid such a freshness swift-foot sprang aground 64
our second Argonauts, far-left the Fleet,
where in the wood-depths willing to be found
strolled the fair Nymphs as though no fear they weet;
These waked the Zitter’s soft pathetic sound,
those made the Harp and Flute sing song as sweet and bearing golden bows appeared a few
the prey pursuing they did not pursue.
Thus taught their Tut’oress in such teaching wise, 65
to scatter careless o’er the hill and plain;
so might the Barons see’ing a doubtful prize,
first burn with hot desire the prize to gain.
Some maids whose nat’ural charms the veil despise,
in pride of soveran Beauty justly vain,
casting all Art’s adulteries aside,
bathe their pure bodies in the pearly tide.
But the stout seamen when their feet were set 66
ashore, all hastened to greet the strand;
nor was there any who his ship had quit sans hopes of finding game upon the land:
None think such game that needs ne springe ne net
on those fair hillocks thus would come to hand; —
so bien, so bonny, so benign a prey
by Venus cast love-wounded in their way.
Some with the spingard armed and arbalest, 67
hoping to slay the horny hart or hind,
in sombre bosques and valleys hotly prest,
determined Vert and Venerie to find:
Others in shadows that high noon arrest
from scorching verdant turf, to walk incline’d
along the gentle riv’ulet’s grassy reach,
o’er the white pebbles purling to the beach.
Begin with sudden start the Youths to ‘spy 68
variegate colours glance through greeny boughs;
colours that catch the judgment of man’s eye
as not of nat’ural bloom, ne flow’er, ne rose;
but fleecy laine and silk of diff’erent dye,
Dress, that with double force Desire endows,
wherein the human Rose herself enshrines,
and, Art enhancing Nature, brighter shines.
Loud cries Velloso, marv’elling at the sight: 69
“My masters! wondrous game,” quoth he, is this;
if yet endure that olden Pagan rite,
the Grove be sacred to the Goddesses:
Here meet we more than what the human Sprite
ever desired; and right well we wis
excellent wonders and great things here lie
by Nature veiled from Man’s imprudent eye.
“Follow we fast these Goddesses, and speer 70
an they be Fantasm or divine indeed!”
Thus he; and, fleeter than the fleet-foot deer,
all follow coursing o’er the riv’erine mead.
Between the branches flying Nymphs appear,
haply with more of hurry than of speed;
and, slackening pace with shrieks and laughter gay,
each yields her graces as her greyhound’s prey.
From this the breezes golden tresses blow, 71
from that the robe’s frail hem is reft aside:
High burns Desire, enkindled by the snow
of living loveliness so sudden ‘spied.
One falls apurpose, and her fall doth show
by loving languor more than plaint or pride,
she wills her follower stumble, falling o’er
the lovely quarry on the pebbly shore.
Others seek other places where the stream 72
reveals of bathing Nymphs the secret charms:
who startled ‘gin to fly with shriek and scream,
as though surprized by rude assault of arms.
While others feigning to feel less esteem
for fear and shame than force, veil false alarms,
plunge in the brake and give to greedy eyes
denied to grasping hands the goodly prize.
That, who in hurry to resume contrives 73
the modesty that marks the Hunter-maid
hides in the wave her limbs; another strives
to snatch the garment on the stream-bank laid.
Youngling there is who in the river dives
all clad and booted (lest too long delay’d
by doffing garments he should miss the game),
to quench in water Love’s consuming flame.
As Hound of Hunter, crafty beast and wa
re, 74
taught cripples to retrieve from brook or tarn,
seeing the steely tube upraised in air;
cov’ering the well-known quarry, duck or hern;
ere heard the crack, uneath the sight to bear
he plungeth, certain praise and prize to earn,
and swimmeth barking: Thus the Brave made free
to seize the Fair, — no Phoebus’ sister she!
Leonard, a soldier whom good gifts adorn, 75
a knightly Belamour and delicate,
who was not once the prey of Cupid’s scorn,
but ever dree’d Love’s life-long spite and hate;
he, who so long believed he was not born
to Love-luck being e’er unfortunate,
not that he held all Hope beyond his range
when Destiny shall deign his doom to change:
Here willed his Fortune, he should wing his way 76
chasing the fairest Daughter of the Wave,
Ephyre, lief to make him dearly pay
that which for giving Nature to her gave.
Spent by the race he stayed his steps to say: —
“O thou too beauteous cruelty to crave,
when of my life the palm to thee is dight,
ah! wait this body since thou hast its sprite!”
“All rest of running weary, Nymph divine! 77
Each yields her wishes to her en’emy’s will;
Why to the wood alone fly only mine?
Who told thee I am I, who chase thee still?
If told thee so mine angry doom malign,
which allwheres dogs me always to mine ill,
believe it not, e’en I when I believed,
each hour a thousand times my heart deceived.
“Tire not thyself, to tire me; for if I 78
must chase those flying charms and chase in vain,
such is my Fortune an thou wait and try
her will perverse shall never gar me gain.
Wait! if thou will I would again descry,
what subtle mode of ‘scape for thee remain,
and thou in fine shalt note, and fain confess so,
Tra la spiga e la man qual muro e messo.
“Ah, fly me not! E’en so may Time foot-fleet 79
ne’er from thy youthful beauties urge his flight!
For only stay the twinkling of thy feet
and thou shalt vanquish Fortune’s dure despight.
What Emp’eror, nay what mighty Host dare meet
the force array’d by Chance’s furious might,
which in whate’er I wished still hounds my way,
this canst thou do, thou only, an thou stay?
“Wouldst in my roll of foes thyself enrol? 80
To back the stronger is not bravely done!
Wouldst steal my lib’eral heart that was so whole?
Loose it me then, the faster thou shalt run!
Luis de Camoes Collected Poetical Works Page 24