But changed for prison, since mine every thought,
Would I or nould I, boon of Love besought.”
Canto VI (after Stanza 81)
“Thou Guard divine, who dost with Angels dwell,
And of the Starry Pole hast seigniory;
Thou who didst bring Thy people Israèl
Through the burst waters of the blushing sea:
If from more risks than what t’ Aeneas fell
Or Ithican Ulysses sav’edst thou me,
Passing Apollo’s largely bounded path
Through rage of Aeolus and Tethys’ wrath.”
Canto VI (after Stanza 94)
Look ye, how following fast on fierce despair
We win the weal that seemed beyond our range;
Thus ever dogging happy days sans care
Comes hateful Sorrow with her certain change.
Whoso would win such lore, such secret bare,
How Chance shall aye Security estrange,
I wot, his wisdom would no blessing gain,
But breed a madness in his brooding brain.
2
I have short answer for the wights who say
That fickle Fortune deals in living lies;
That God hath made for pillar of His sway
A goddess ranging aye ’twixt fall and rise.
Importunate opinion men obey
That Man, whose nature with the Angels vies,
For whom his God such goodness wrought, is rulèd
By blindfold chances, and by luck befoolèd.
3
Who saith that Good or Ill be reason why,
The lowly up, the lofty downward, go;
What shall he say me se’eing the low rise high?
What shall he say me se’eing the high fall low?
If some should say “we’re born predestined,” I
Find it an asp’erous reason so to trow;
If darkly bound by bond of Destiny,
What boots a Sinner or a Saint I be?
4
Such dreadful storm the Portingalls tormented,
All were assurèd life was surely lost;
Sudden it passèd and to them presented
Venus the guerdon which they yearned for most.
Meanwhile Cabral whose wreck and wrack distented
The list of losses on that portless coast,
Saves his life gladly, and at once he loses ’t
Because what men call Chance or Dest’iny choses ’t.
5
An he must lose his life in one short hour,
To save the span before what could avail?
We ask why Fortune’s all prevailing pow’er
Upon the heels of ill sent nought of weal?
Well said the Sage, so famed for el’egant lore,
Simonides, who from his safe portail
Beheld his rev’elling friends within the hall
Crusht by the fragments of the fallen wall:—
6
“Oh, force of Fortune grievous, sore to dree,
That hast so many in one moment slain!
Say for what greater bane hast savèd me
Whom thou hast savèd from this present bane?
Certès, the wrath of Heav’en right well I see:
No harm sufficeth for his rage insane:
Nor ill he workèd but the will he had
Eftsoons of working something worse than bad.”
7
Right well I wot that many shall be found
With subtle reasons Faith to re-assure;
Many by Second Causes shall expound
High matters sound sure judgment doth depure.
To all I pledge myself, I could respond
Did art of scribe such mighty theme endure:
I but respond that long Experience
Oft shows your Science lacking common Sense.
Manuscript No. II
Canto VIII (after Stanza 32)
1
“This the foundation-stone sublimely laid
Of the Braganza House, illustrious strain,
Which in estate and grandeur all outweigh’d
Whatever vaunts the high Hispanian reign.
Seest thou him, who with the stout Armade
Cutteth th’ Hesperian sea, forthwith to gain
His brave objective; wends this stout pretender
Azamor town to fight and gar surrender?
2
“ ’Tis ducal Gemes, ’heriting from his sires
Of old nobility a name memorious,
Who does this mighty deed; and ’s high desires
Fulfilled, to Portugale returns victorious.
This time a valour which the world admires
Leaveth the Moorman in such fear inglorious,
Who to the Present is nowise relievèd
Of the cold burden in the Past conceivèd.
3
“And, if the famous Duke forbore as wont
Catholick conquests farther still to bear,
Unto Marocco’s mures and Terudant,
And other thousand thorpes the Haven near;
Deem not his constant soul of spirit scant,
Or wanting energy or slow to dare;
’Twas that his loyalty to cross declinèd
The certain limits which his King assignèd.”
Canto VIII
“In such unfairest odds and chance of fray
One of our soldiers was begirt by foes;
But he, by valour more than mail, makes way
And of true warrior-heart fair ’surance shows;
Slain the near charger with his sabre-sway
Its rider’s head upon the plain he throws;—
Brave sworder-feat!—and, pace by pace, he leaveth
Arear the foeman whom such exploit grieveth.”
Canto X (after Stanza 72)
“Shalt see, in fine, conspire all India, ’drest
To bellick apparatus; peoples rush
Cháúl, Maláca, Goa-town t’ invest,
At once such different sites to seize and crush.
But see, now Cháúl City sorely prest,
The seas with em’inent billows flies to brush
Castro, in haste his Portingalls to save
When only God in Mercy’s aid they crave.
2
“Se’est thou yon Paynim King so fain of fight
Burn, overrun, beleaguer, firm persist
In throwing forces which the land affright
Against a little squad that loveth Christ?
But bear that gen’erous Pundonor in sight,
Ne siege ne battle e’er before hath wist;
See how the sold’iery flying posts secure,
Pass to the post of peril dire and dure.
Canto VIII (after Stanza 36)
“In such unfairest odds and chance of fray
One of our soldiers was begirt by foes;
But he, by valour more than mail, makes way
And of true warrior-heart fair ’surance shows;
Slain the near charger with his sabre-sway
Its rider’s head upon the plain he throws;—
Brave sworder-feat!—and, pace by pace, he leaveth
Arear the foeman whom such exploit grieveth.”
3
“There shall Ataide, most for prudence known,
Strong in the ghostly comfort of the Lord,
Where Time and Need demand such force be shown,
With more than human valour aid afford.
Until its salvage object shall disown
With grievous losses yon vile Pagan horde,
Who crusht in thousand cruel fights shall rue
The war, and hurry for a truce to sue.
4
“While here so happeth on the coast that glows
Of Asia and Am’erica sombre cold,
There not the less in Europe bellicose,
And Barb’ary’s wild uncultivated wold,
Shall show thy Race, Elysian, valorous
Its worth and with a freezing fear enfold
The seething Zone, that sees one conquest won
Pass to three other and ne’er pause till done.
5
“Barriga, brave of braves, they here shall sight,
Guide of Zafim,281 in war of prime account,
Who finds no man-at-arms to foil his might,
O’errun the Mauritanian plain and mount.
But see how th’ Infidels, by luck of fight
And doom disastrous, in the very brunt
Make
