Book Read Free

The Lusiads (Oxford World's Classics)

Page 18

by Luis Vaz de Camoes

And what of you, unworthy Gaul?*

  You took the name ‘most Christian’

  Not to defend and cherish and enjoy it

  But to rise up against and destroy it!

  7 You lay claim to other Christian lands

  As if your own were not enough,

  So why not to Barbary and Egypt

  Historic enemies of the sacred name?

  The sword’s razor edge should be tested

  On whoever rejects earth’s corner-stone.

  Are you Charles’s heir? and Louis’s? You degrade

  Their name and land, denying their crusade?

  8 And what of those who, in luxury

  And the indolence which partners it,

  Waste their lives pursuing wealth,

  Forgetful of their ancestors’ valour?

  Then tyranny gives birth to feuding

  As a brave people turns against itself.

  It is you I have in mind, Italy,

  Enslaved by vice, your own worst enemy!

  9 Wretched Christians! Are you sprung

  From the dragon’s teeth* sowed by Cadmus,

  That you deal murder one to the other

  When all are sprung from the same womb?

  Do you not see the Holy Sepulchre

  Occupied by dogs who now encroach

  With one accord against your own terrain,

  Their credit soaring with each new campaign?

  10 You see how, by practice and requirement

  Which they follow to the last degree,

  They keep their restless army united

  By fighting the followers of Christ.

  But with you, the Furies never cease

  Sowing the hateful tares of discord.

  What safety lies in such a stratagem

  —To have two enemies, yourselves and them?

  11 If it is greed for vast dominions

  Sends you conquering lands not your own,

  Have you forgotten the Pactolus and Hermus

  With their gold-bearing sands?

  In Lydia* they weave with threads of gold;

  Africa buries it in shining seams;

  Perhaps dreams of such riches will spur you

  If the Holy Sepulchre cannot stir you.

  12 These dreadful new inventions, guns

  And instruments of artillery,

  Why not deploy them in action against

  The strongholds of Byzantium and Turkey?

  Drive the Turkish multitudes back

  To the caves of the Caspian mountains

  And cold Scythia, before they conjure up

  Any more troubles for wealthy Europe.

  13 Greeks,* Thracians, Armenians, Georgians,

  Cry out to you the brutal people

  Are levying children, dragooning them

  Into the teachings of the Koran.

  In punishing such vile acts,

  You would be praised for courage and vision

  Far greater than the arrogant renown

  Of victories secured against your own.

  14 But while in your blind, insane frenzy

  You thirst for your brothers’ blood in Christ,

  There will be no lack of Christian daring

  In this little house of Portugal.

  In Africa, they have coastal bases;

  In Asia, no one disputes their power;

  The New World already feels their ploughshare,

  And if fresh worlds are found, they will be there.

  15 Let us see, meanwhile, what befell

  Those famous mariners, from the moment

  Gentle Venus assuaged the blustering

  Fury of the contending winds,

  And since the goal of all their

  Unremitting efforts rose before them,

  That great continent, to which they bring

  Faith in Christ, new customs and a new king.

  16 As they neared the unfamiliar shore

  Small fishing-craft surrounded them,

  Pointing the course to Calicut*

  Where the fishermen had their homes.

  There at once they turned their prows,

  That city being known as the best

  Of the best in Malabar, and the port

  Where the country’s ruler maintained his court.

  17 Beyond the Indus,* as far as the Ganges,

  Lies an enormous, celebrated land,

  Extending to the sea in the far south

  And to the north the Himalayan caves.

  It is ruled by different kings,

  Of various faiths; some follow Mohammed,

  Some worship idols in their strange tongue,

  Some even the animals they live among.

  18 There, in the great range which crosses

  The continent, for it divides Asia,

  Bearing different names in the different

  Nations which lie beneath its slopes,

  Spring the fountains, the twin sources

  Of the rivers whose powerful currents die

  In the Indian Ocean, giving the vast spur

  Of land the shape of a peninsula.

  19 Enclosed by these two river systems

  Is a vast country ending in a cape,

  Shaped like a pyramid far to the south,

  Pointing at the island of Ceylon;

  Near the source of the mighty Ganges

  So rumour has it, from ancient times,

  The people there* have unexampled powers

  To subsist on the sweet scents of flowers.

  20 Even today, the inhabitants have many

  Strange names and startling customs.

  Pathans and Delhis are the largest

  Both in numbers and their territory;

  Those of the Deccan and Orissa look

  To salvation in the murmuring waters

  Of the Ganges; and then there is Bengal,

  A land so fertile it transcends them all;

  21 And then the warrior kingdom of Cambay

  (Once ruled, they say, by the great Porus*);

  And the powerful kingdom of Narsinga

  Richer in gems and gold than soldiers.

  But here, rising from the restless sea,

  A mountain range parallels the coast

  And serves Malabar as a barrier,

  Protecting it from neighbouring Kanara.

  22 People who live there call it ‘the Ghats’,

  And at its foot, for a little distance,

  There runs a narrow strip, exposed

  To the sea’s instinctive ferocity.

  Here, of all other towns, Calicut

  Is undisputed head, beautiful

  And prosperous, a city to glory in;

  Its ruler is known as the Samorin.

  23 As the fleet anchored off this rich domain,

  One of the Portuguese was dispatched

  To make known to the Hindu king

  Their arrival from such distant shores.

  He left the estuary for the river,

  Where the like never having been witnessed,

  His pale skin, his garments, and strange air

  Brought crowds of people hurrying to stare.

  24 Among those who came running to see him

  Was a Mohammedan* born in Barbary,

  That region where in ancient times

  The giant Antaeus held sway.

  Either he knew it as a neighbour,

  Or was already marked by its swords,

  But Portugal he knew at all events

  Though fate had exiled him a long way thence.

  25 Catching sight of the envoy, he exclaimed

  In delight, and in fluent Castilian

  —‘Who brought you to this other world

  So far from your native Portugal?’

  —‘Exploring,’ he replied, ‘the vast ocean

  Where no human being ever sailed;

  We come in search of the River Indus;

  To spread the faith of Christ is our purpose.’
>
  26 The Muslim, whose name was Monsayeed,

  Was astounded by the immense voyage,

  And the great sufferings undergone

  At sea, as the envoy recounted them.

  But discerning his main intelligence

  Was only for the Samorin’s ears,

  He said the palace, where king held court,

  Lay beyond the town, but the road was short.

  27 Meanwhile, as news of this unique arrival

  Was conveyed to the king, he was welcome

  To relax in his home, poor though it was,

  And sample the food of the country;

  Then, after the envoy had rested,

  He would return with him to the ships,

  For there were few delights so salutary

  As meeting neighbours in a foreign country.

  28 The Portuguese complied readily

  With all the smiling Monsayeed proposed;

  He ate and drank and followed his lead

  As if their friendship was long-standing.

  Afterwards, both of them left the city

  For the fleet Monsayeed recognized,

  Visiting the flagship, where all on board

  Welcomed the Muslim with a friendly word.

  29 The captain embraced him, overjoyed

  To hear clearly the accents of Castile;

  He sat, and calmly plied him with questions

  About India and all its ways.

  And as the trees in ancient Rhodope,*

  Charmed by the golden lute of Orpheus,

  Eurydice’s lover, crowded to the fore,

  So the crew pressed to listen to the Moor.

  30 —‘You people,’ he began, ‘whom nature made

  Neighbours of my own dear homeland,

  What chance, what stroke of destiny

  Led you to embark on such a passage?

  Some deep, hidden purpose brings you

  From the far Tagus and obscure Minho,

  To voyage on dangerous and unsailed seas

  To kingdoms so remote and strange as these.

  31 ‘Surely, God brought you here, purposing

  Some task of his own performed by you;

  Why else would He guide you, and protect you

  From enemies, the sea, and the angry winds?

  You are now in India, with its various

  Peoples who prosper and grow rich

  From gold and sweet perfumes and peppercorns,

  Cardamoms, hot chillies, and precious stones.

  32 ‘This country, in which you have now

  Made harbour is known as Malabar;

  From time immemorial it worshipped idols,

  A practice widespread in these parts;

  Today, it has many different kings,

  But in former times only one;

  Their traditions claim the last imperial

  Governor was one Sarama Perimal.*

  33 ‘But then, when others invaded the land,

  Descending from the Gulf of Arabia,

  Bringing with them the faith of Mohammed

  In which my own parents instructed me,

  It happened that their wise and eloquent

  Preachers converted Perimal,

  Who adopted their faith with such fervour

  He resolved he would die a holy mullah.

  34 ‘He fitted out ships, carefully stowed

  With offerings of rich merchandise,

  And embarked to live a life of prayer

  Where the Prophet rests in Medina.*

  Before he sailed, he divided

  His mighty kingdom, there being

  No natural heir: he chose the most worthy,

  So poor men became rich, and subjects free.

  35 ‘To one he gave Cochin,* to another

  Cannanore, then Chale, and the Pepper Isle,

  And Quilon and to another Cranganore,

  According to their talents and service.

  But a young man, whom he much loved,

  Appeared at court after all was given:

  Calicut remained, so the youth was made,

  King of a noble city, enriched by trade.

  36 ‘On him, too, he conferred the title

  Emperor, setting him above the rest.

  This done, he departed for Arabia

  To live and die in sanctity.

  And so the great name of Samorin,

  The most powerful in the land, passed

  From the youth and his descendants, down

  To the Samorin who now wears the crown.

  37 ‘The people, rich and poor alike, share

  One religion, a tissue of fables.

  They go naked, with only a loincloth

  To cover what instinct makes us hide.

  There are two kinds of people, the Nairs

  Are the aristocrats, while all the rest

  Are Pariahs, and their type are classed

  Unfit to marry with the ancient caste.

  38 ‘For those who practise a given craft

  May not take a wife from another skill;

  Nor may their sons follow any calling,

  But that of their fathers until death.

  For the Nairs, it is a defilement

  To be touched by them, and so much so,

  If a Pariah by chance brushes by him

  It takes a thousand rites to purify him.

  39 ‘In the same way, the ancient Jews

  Would not touch the Samaritan people.

  But you will see stranger things than this

  In this land with its different customs.

  Only Nairs are allowed to venture

  Their lives for the king, bearing

  As the mark of their privilege to fight,

  A shield on their left arm, sword on the right.

  40 ‘Their priests are known as Brahmins,

  An ancient and venerable title;

  They are disciples of Pythagoras,*

  Who gave philosophy its name;

  They will not kill any living creature

  And meticulously abstain from meats;

  Only in matters of love is their goal

  Greater indulgence and less self-control.

  41 ‘They share their wives, but strictly

  Between those of their husband’s line;

  Happy the circumstance, happy the people

  Untouched by the pangs of jealousy!

  These, and many different customs,

  Are practised by the Malabaris.

  The land is prospering, with mercantile

  Goods of all kinds from China to the Nile.’

  42 So the Muslim spoke. By this time, rumours

  Were flying throughout the city

  About the coming of strangers, when

  The Samorin sought to learn the truth.

  So pacing the streets, and thronged

  By young and old of both sexes,

  Came courtiers, sent by the king to greet

  The captain of this newly anchored fleet.

  43 Da Gama, who now had the king’s licence

  To disembark, left for the shore

  Without delay, gorgeously robed

  And attended by knights of Portugal;

  The bright, contrasting colours

  Made the onlookers buzz with excitement;

  The oars stroked, in regular manœuvre,

  First the salt sea, then the fresh river.

  44 On the beach was an official of the king

  Known in his own tongue as ‘Catual’,

  And surrounded by Nairs, who awaited

  The noble da Gama with rare excitement.

  As he landed, the Catual embraced him

  And conducted him to a palanquin,

  A richly cushioned chair which the holders

  Lift, and bear along upon their shoulders.

  45 So the Malabari and the Lusitanian

  Set out to where the king was waiting;

  The other Portuguese went on foot,

&
nbsp; Like a fearsome group of infantry.

  The town people were bemused

  By the unfamiliar sight and would have

  Questioned them, had not the Tower of Babel

  In ancient times made that impossible.

  46 As they went, da Gama and the Catual

  Conversed as opportunity provided,

  Monsayeed, between them, interpreting

  Those of their words which he understood.

  So, journeying across the city,

  They came to a richly furbished

  Temple, at which the palanquin made pause,

  And together they entered by the doors.

  47 Inside were images of their gods

  Fashioned in wood and cold stone,

  The faces and colours as discordant

  As if the Devil had devised them.

  The carvings were repulsive, like

  The Chimera with its different members;

  The Christians, used to seeing God portrayed

  In human form, were baffled and dismayed.

  48 One had horns* protruding from its head,

  Like Jupiter Ammon of Libya;

  Another had two faces on one trunk,

  As Janus was shown in Roman times;

  Another had so many different arms

  It seemed modelled on Briareus;

  Yet another had a dog’s proboscis

  Like the idol of Anubis at Memphis.

  49 Here, the Hindu idolater made

  His superstitious obsequies, then

  Without more diversion they continued

  To the king of those credulous people.

  As they passed, the crowds swelled,

  Pressing to see the strange captain;

  From every window and roof-top, there hung

  Men, women, married, single, old, and young.

  50 Borne swiftly along, they soon drew near

  The bright, sweet-smelling gardens

  That hid the royal dwelling from view

  For though sumptuous, it had no towers;

  The noble palaces were spread

  Among groves of delightful trees,

  For the kings of that land contrive to dwell

  In the city and countryside as well.

  51 On the gates of the surrounding wall

  Were carvings worthy of Daedalus,

  Depicting the rulers of India

  From her most remote antiquity.

  The happenings of that ancient age

  Were so strikingly presented

  That anyone who studied them with care

  Read truth in the shadows depicted there.

  52 One showed a mighty army marching

  East along the banks of the Hydaspes;*

  A general led them, with a carefree face,

  Who made war with fronds of thyrsus

  (It was he built Nysa, on the bank

  Of that same abundant river);

  Were Semele near, so well was the work done,

  She could not fail to recognize her son.

  53 Further along, drinking the river dry,

 

‹ Prev