Propagating fish of every species,
While by moisture flesh prospers and increases.
13 In another part was depicted the war
The young gods fought with the titans;
Typhoeus* was there, under the mass
Of Etna with its crackling flames;
Neptune was carved there, smiting
The earth* to give primitive man
The warhorse; then Minerva, peacefully,
With her own gift of the first olive tree.
14 Bacchus’ rage would not long allow
Such sights to constrain him, bursting
Headlong into Neptune’s palace
Who, warned already of his coming,
Was at the portal to welcome him,
Along with a puzzled bevy of nymphs,
Trying to fathom what in heaven had brought a
King of wine to the domain of water.
15 —‘Neptune,’ he said, ‘do not be alarmed
To receive Bacchus in your kingdom,
For even the great and powerful
May be crushed by unjust fortune.
Summon the sea gods before I say
More, if you want to discover more;
Let me tell gods what’s about to befall
Them! Let all hear what threatens us all!’
16 Divining already that this would be
A weird business, Neptune dispatched
Triton* to summon the gods who inhabit
The cold sea between coast and coast.
This huge, swarthy youth, who took
Pride in being son of the king
And of loved Amphitrite, was trumpeter
To Neptune and underwater courier.
17 The hairs of his beard and the hair
Falling from his head to his shoulders
Were all one mass of mud, and visibly
Had never been touched by a comb;
Each dangling dreadlock was a cluster
Of gleaming, blue-black mussels.
On his head, by way of coronet, he wore
The biggest lobster-shell you ever saw.
18 His body was naked, even his genitals,
So as not to impede his swimming,
But tiny creatures of the sea
Crawled over him by the hundreds;
Crabs and prawns and many others
Which wax with the growing moon,
Cockles and oysters, and the slimy husks
Of convoluted whelks and other molluscs.
19 In his hand was a huge twisted conch
On which he blew a powerful blast;
The melodious sound was heard booming
Throughout all the world’s oceans;
At once the company of the gods
Responded, travelling to the courts
Of the god who once built the walls of Troy
(Which the angry Greeks united to destroy).
20 Father Ocean came,* with all the host
Of sons and daughters he had fathered;
Nereus came, married to Doris
Who peopled all the sea with nymphs;
Proteus came, leaving his seals
To graze on the salty pastures,
Though being a prophet, obviously, he
Foresaw what Bacchus wanted in the sea.
21 Tethys was there, Neptune’s delicious
Wife, daughter of Earth and Sky,
Her face both serene and happy, and so
Lovely the sea was becalmed in wonder;
She was dressed in a precious gown
Of the finest linen weave, through which
Much of her radiant body was revealed,
For such beauty is not to be concealed.
22 Amphitrite, resplendent as the flowers,
Could not miss such an occasion;
She brought the dolphin which counselled her
To surrender to the love of Neptune.
Each seeming to outshine the sun
With eyes which conquered all they saw,
Two wives together of the same husband
Walked in perfect harmony, hand in hand.
23 Ino who fled from mad King Athamas
And was changed into a goddess,
Brought her son, that lovely infant,
Also numbered among the gods;
He ran along the beach, playing
With the shells which the salt waves
Keep casting up or, if he paused to rest,
Lovely Panopea took him to her breast.
24 And Glaucus, the god who was once human
And by the virtue of a powerful herb
Became a fish, from which disaster
The outcome was his divinity,
He also came, but grieving Circe’s
Revenge against the beautiful
Scylla, whom he loved, knowing his love returned,
Changed to a monster by the one he spurned.
25 At last all of them took their seats
In the great hall of the celestial palace,
The goddesses on lavish canopies,
The gods on thrones of crystal;
Neptune, with Bacchus enthroned at his side,
Saluted each in turn, as fumes
Of ambergris were wafted through the air,
Sweeter than all the scents of Arabia.
26 The hubbub of the gods’ arrival
And their greetings having subsided,
Bacchus began to unveil the secret
Torment gnawing at his soul.
His face was overcast with cares,
And exposing his heartfelt longing
For their help in devising one last stroke
To put pay to the sons of Lusus, he spoke:
27 —‘O Neptune, you who rule by right
The angry seas from pole to pole,
Who confine the peoples of the earth
To their fixed appointed boundaries;
And you, Father Ocean, who envelop
The entire globe, keeping apart
The continents, and with just decrees ordain
Each race must live within its own domain;
28 ‘And you, gods of the sea, who suffer
No encroachment on your vast kingdom,
Chastising in a manner to suit
The offence, whoever ventures upon it:
Was it folly to take such precautions?
Who can it be has softened hearts
Once determinedly, implacably combined
Against puny and insolent mankind?
29 ‘You have seen with what presumption
Daedalus assaulted the very heavens;
You observed the Argonauts’ mad ambition
To tame the sea with sail and oar;
Then, and daily, you swallow such
Insults, that very soon, I promise you,
Of the vast oceans and the heavenly span
They’ll be the gods and you and I but Man.
30 ‘Consider how this wretched tribe
Named after one of my former vassals,*
Has found the courage to dominate
You, me, and the entire world.
Look how they dare to plough oceans
Where even the Romans never ventured;
Behold the ways they trespass on your realm,
Breaking your laws wherever they turn their helm.
31 ‘I bore witness when the Argonauts
First made a breach in your kingdom,
How Boreas, and his friend Aquilo,*
And all the other winds fought back.
If the winds then felt so affronted
By that insignificant, daring band,
Revenge now should provoke you even more,
So why delay? What are you waiting for?
32 ‘I don’t expect you, gods, to believe
I left the heavens out of love of you,
Nor from rage at the wrongs you suffer,
But for what is being done to me:
You all remember, when
I conquered
The lands of India in the Orient,
What honours and eternal fame I won?
Now with these interlopers, all’s undone.
33 ‘The supreme Lord and the Fates who rule
The lower world as they see fit
Are determined to grant still greater fame
To these ocean-faring heroes.
Here you see for yourselves, gods,
How they teach even gods to do wrong;
It comes to this—the famous and elect
Are the ones least entitled to respect!
34 ‘For this reason I abandoned Olympus
Seeking redress for my injuries,
To see if the credit I lost in heaven
May by chance be redeemed in your waters.’
He wished to say more, but could prevent
No longer spurting from both his eyes
Salt, scalding tears of which he was ashamed,
But at that the gods of water were inflamed.
35 The passion surging through the gods’
Hearts in that instant left no room
For debate nor sober reflection,
Nor could brook a moment’s delay.
Furiously, they instructed Aeolus,*
On Neptune’s behalf, to unloose at once
His strongest, wildest nor-and-nor-east-galers,
Once and for all to rid the seas of sailors.
36 Proteus sought first to intervene
To declare what he felt on the matter;
And all expected what was to follow
Would be some profound prophecy;
But so great was the momentary
Uproar in the company of the gods,
That Tethys shouted, silencing everyone,
—‘Neptune’s fully aware of what must be done!’
37 Aeolus in his presumption was already
Releasing winds from his prison,
Goading them on with provocative words
Against the brave and spirited heroes.
Suddenly, the sky was overcast
And gales, which had never blown
With such fury, doubled their force to make
Houses, towers, mountains topple in their wake.
38 But while the gods were at their council
In the watery depths, the weary, happy
Fleet, with calm seas and gentle winds,
Was pursuing its tremendous journey.
It was the time when the light of day
Was furthest removed from the east;
The bells of the first watch* had been reckoned
And men were awakening for the second.
39 They came still weary, drugged with sleep,
Yawning, drooping now and then against
The yards, and all wretchedly dressed
For the chill wind that was blowing;
They could barely force their eyes open,
But rubbing them, they stretched their arms,
Swapping stories and anecdotes to shake
Drowsiness off and keep themselves awake.
40 —‘This is tiresome,’ said one. ‘How better
To make the hours of this watch pass
Than with some agreeable tale
That will dispel the burden of sleep?’
Leonard,* who was always preoccupied
With thoughts of some beloved, agreed:
—‘Let love be our theme,’ he said. ‘Let’s dance
The hours away with the stuff of romance.’
41 —‘No,’ said Veloso.* ‘Gentle topics
Have no place amid such hardships;
The work of a ship is too demanding
For talk of love and such refinements;
Instead, our story must be of war
And the fierce heat of battle;
Grim days await us, hard labour, with groans
Our only comfort. I feel it in my bones.’
42 All agreed in this and invited Veloso
To tell whatever tale he pleased.
—‘I will,’ he said, ‘and let no one complain
I am dealing in fable or fiction;
And to learn from me, and it, to behave
Nobly and with honour, I will speak
Of courtiers born and raised in Portugal,
The Twelve of England,* and heroes all!
43 ‘In the time when King João, Pedro’s son,
Ruled Portugal with a gentle rein,
After securing peace and freedom
Against all the plots of Castile,
Far to the north, in mighty
Snow-bound England, fierce Discord
Scattered her evil tares from an iron hand,
Which brought great lustre to our own land.
44 ‘It happened once that the gentle ladies
Of the English court and their noble lords
Quarrelled with angry words (perhaps
From conviction, or simply to provoke).
The courtiers, for whom such badinage
Signified little, said they would prove
Honour and fame, being ad hominem
Could not exist in women, as women;
45 ‘But that any knight with lance and sword
Who offered to take the ladies’ cause
Would be met in the field or in the lists
And rewarded with dishonour or death.
The delicate ladies, unaccustomed
To such insults, and well aware
They lacked the strength of body to defend
Their honour, appealed to relative and friend.
46 ‘But since their enemies were highly placed
And powerful in the kingdom, neither
Relatives nor sweethearts rallied
To the ladies’ side as they should.
With tears on their lovely faces,
Such as would rouse the gods in heaven,
They took their tale of insolence and taunt
To the Duke of Lancaster, John of Gaunt.
47 ‘This mighty Englishman had campaigned
With the Portuguese against Castile
And knew of their great-heartedness
And that fortune was their friend;
He had made trial, too, in Portugal
Of their romantic dispositions,
When King João took Philippa as his own,
Queen of his heart, and partner of his throne.
48 ‘The Duke could not succour them himself
For fear of worsening the rancour,
But he said: “When I asserted my claim
To the lands and throne of Castile,
I found in the noble Portuguese
Such gallantry and daring,
They are the very knights, upon my word,
To champion your honour by fire and sword;
49 ‘“If, in this affront, you would be served
Ladies, I will send ambassadors
Bearing discreet, courtly letters
Which will make your provocation known;
If you, on your part, also send
Messages of love and allurement
Watered with tears, I do believe that thence
You’ll find your champions and a strong defence.”
50 ‘So the wily Duke counselled them,
And named at once twelve strong men;
And he advised the ladies to draw lots
So each had her knight, they also
Being twelve; then finding who had
Drawn whom, each in their different styles
Wrote to her own hero in Portugal,
And all to the King, likewise the Duke to all.
51 ‘These messages arrived in Portugal;
The court was ravished by this novelty;
The noble King was first to volunteer
But his kingship would not permit it;
All the courtiers clamoured as one man
To flock to the great adventure,
But events favoured only the dozen
Fortunate champions the Duke had chosen.
52 ‘In loyal Porto, the city (as is said)
From which Portugal derives her name,
He who commands the ship of state
Commanded a vessel made ready.
Quickly, the twelve equipped themselves
With the latest arms and accoutrements,
With helmets, crests, mottoes, and devices,
Horses, and trappings in countless guises.
53 ‘Then, obtaining due leave from their king,
There sailed from the famous Douro river
Those twelve knights picked by the judgement
Of the veteran Duke of Lancaster.
None of the band differed from his friends
In valour or courtly virtues;
But one of the dozen, Magriço* by name,
Begged to be indulged in a secret aim:
54 ‘“My brave companions, I have long desired
To visit foreign countries, to view
Rivers other than the Douro and Tagus,
Other peoples, laws, and customs.
Now that the chance presents itself
(There being so much to see), I desire
To go by land, if this suits everyone;
I will rejoin you afterwards in London.
55 ‘“Should God, who is final arbiter
And last resource of all creatures,
Prevent my keeping the appointed time,
You will lose little by my absence:
You will do all that must be done;
But my intuition tells me neither
Rivers nor mountains, fortune good or ill,
Shall obstruct me, for rejoin you, I will.”
56 ‘So Magriço; and, embracing his friends,
He obtains their assent and departs.
He goes by Léon and Castile, viewing
Forts once captured by our armies;
And Navarre, with the dizzy heights
Of the Pyrenees, dividing Spain from Gaul.
Through the cities of France he meanders,
Lingering in the market towns of Flanders.
57 ‘But there, from accident or whim,
He spends many days without proceeding.
Meanwhile, the eleven of the company
Had cut the cold seas of the north;
They reached England’s shrouded coast,
And all made their way to London;
Each was fêted by the Duke as his guest,
While the ladies attended and caressed.
58 ‘The appointed day arrived to enter
The lists against the twelve English
In the tourney guaranteed by the king;
They donned their helmets, greaves, and mail.
Now the ladies could see for themselves
The fierce spirit of the Portuguese;
Their own silks were gorgeous to behold,
Lit by a thousand precious stones and gold.
59 ‘But she, to whom had fallen by lot
The still-absent Magriço, was robed
As for mourning, having no brave knight
The Lusiads (Oxford World's Classics) Page 16