No More Learning

What trembling tempests shook the thrones of hell,
And groan'd along her caves, ye muses, tell.
The rage of baffled fraud, and all the fire
Of powerless hate, with tenfold flames conspire;
From ev'ry eye the tawny lightnings glare,
And hell, illumin'd by the ghastly flare,
(A drear blue gleam), in tenfold horror shows
Her darkling caverns; from his dungeon rose
Hagar's stern son: pale was his earthy hue,
And from his eye-balls flash'd the lightnings blue;
Convuls'd with rage the dreadful shade demands
The last assistance of th' infernal bands.
As when the whirlwinds, sudden bursting, bear
Th' autumnal leaves high floating through the air;
So, rose the legions of th' infernal state,
Dark Fraud, base Art, fierce Rage, and burning Hate:
Wing'd by the Furies to the Indian strand
They bend; the demon leads the dreadful band,
And, in the bosoms of the raging Moors
All their collected, living strength he pours.
One breast alone against his rage was steel'd,
Secure in spotless Truth's celestial shield.

One evening past, another evening clos'd,
The regent still brave GAMA'S suit oppos'd;
The Lusian chief his guarded guest detain'd,
With arts on arts, and vows of friendship feign'd.
His fraudful art, though veil'd in deep disguise,
Shone bright to GAMA'S manner-piercing eyes.
As in the sun's bright[549] beam the gamesome boy
Plays with the shining steel or crystal toy,
Swift and irregular, by sudden starts,
The living ray with viewless motion darts,
Swift o'er the wall, the floor, the roof, by turns
The sun-beam dances, and the radiance burns:
In quick succession, thus, a thousand views
The sapient Lusian's lively thought pursues;
Quick as the lightning ev'ry view revolves,
And, weighing all, fix'd are his dread resolves.
O'er India's shore the sable night descends,
And GAMA, now, secluded from his friends,
Detain'd a captive in the room of state,
Anticipates in thought to-morrow's fate;
For just Mozaide no gen'rous care delays,
And VASCO'S trust with friendly toils repays.


END OF THE EIGHTH BOOK.




BOOK IX.

THE ARGUMENT.

The liberation of Gama's factors is effected by a great victory over the
Moorish fleet, and by the bombardment of Calicut. Gama returns in
consequence to his ships, and weighs anchor to return to Europe with the
news of his great discoveries. Camoens then introduces a very singular,
but agreeable episode, recounting the love adventures of his heroes in
one of the islands of the ocean. Venus, in search of her son, journeys
through all his realms to implore his aid, and at length arrives at the
spot where Love's artillery and arms are forged.
Venus intercedes with
her son in favour of the Portuguese. The island of Love, like that of
Delos, floats on the ocean. It is then explained by the poet that these
seeming realities are only allegorical.


Red[550] rose the dawn; roll'd o'er the low'ring sky,
The scattering clouds of tawny purple fly.
While yet the day-spring struggled with the gloom,
The Indian monarch sought the regent's dome.
In all the luxury of Asian state,
High on a star-gemm'd couch the monarch sat:
Then on th' illustrious captive, bending down
His eyes, stern darken'd with a threat'ning frown,
"Thy truthless tale," he cries, "thy art appears,
Confess'd inglorious by thy cautious fears.
Yet, still if friendship, honest, thou implore,
Yet now command thy vessels to the shore:
Gen'rous, as to thy friends, thy sails resign,
My will commands it, and the power is mine:
In vain thy art, in vain thy might withstands,
Thy sails, and rudders too, my will demands:[551]
Such be the test, thy boasted truth to try,
Each other test despis'd, I fix'd deny.
And has my regent sued two days in vain!
In vain my mandate, and the captive chain!
Yet not in vain, proud chief, ourself shall sue
From thee the honour to my friendship due:
Ere force compel thee, let the grace be thine,
Our grace permits it, freely to resign,
Freely to trust our friendship, ere too late
Our injur'd honour fix thy dreadful fate. "

While thus he spake, his changeful look declar'd
In his proud breast what starting passions warr'd.
No feature mov'd on GAMA'S face was seen;
Stern he replies, with bold yet anxious mien,
"In me my sov'reign represented see,
His state is wounded, and he speaks in me;
Unaw'd by threats, by dangers uncontroll'd,
The laws of nations bid my tongue be bold.
No more thy justice holds the righteous scale,
The arts of falsehood and the Moors prevail;
I see the doom my favour'd foes decree,
Yet, though in chains I stand, my fleet is free.
The bitter taunts of scorn the brave disdain;
Few be my words, your arts, your threats are vain.
My sov'reign's fleet I yield not to your sway;[552]
Safe shall my fleet to Lisboa's strand convey
The glorious tale of all the toils I bore,
Afric surrounded, and the Indian shore
Discover'd. These I pledg'd my life to gain,
These to my country shall my life maintain.