 of call. Far at the world's end, strange fascinating lands back in us bid us revel in their exotic splendors. Come with us as we head for Port of Call. Along 360 miles of the Iberian Peninsula's west coast lies a delightful little visited country. A fertile, smiling land, half European and half African whose sunny shores glow with the deep gold of fragrant oranges these white beaches are finged with feathery palm trees. Come with us to Portugal. Seven centuries before the Christian era, the Phoenician navigators having founded trading posts all around the Mediterranean basin sought new outlets for their commerce. Sailing through the Strait of Gibraltar, these hardy mariners bore to the north dropped anchor at the mouth of the River Tagus and there planted the nucleus of the same smiling city which now greets us Lisbon, for the past six centuries the capital of Portugal and in spite of the bustle of its port, Lisbon and thrown upon its seven hills still reminds us that it was once the favorite vacation land for the haughty nobles of ancient Rome and that its varied charms were celebrated by the great poets of antiquity. Making our way inland, we feel the intervening centuries slipping away. Soon we are immersed in the atmosphere of the Middle Ages fraught with grim tragedy, with nightly courtesy with the songs of the troubadours, the clash of armor the mingled war cries of Christian chivalry and of the Moorish warriors of Islam. Before the Gothic pile of the Church of Alacoca the shades of the distant past seem to take shape before our eyes and we witness anew the old tragedy of the love of Pedro the severe or the beautiful Ines de Castro. A house in Coimbra, the ancient capital, 1352. Do you think it is a sin for me to be so proud of Don Pedro's love for me? Sin? Oh, no, no, Senorita Ines. Ah, your beauty, Senorita, is the warm beauty of the Portuguese not the cold, haughty beauty of the Spanish princess. Hush, the Spanish princess would one day be queen of Portugal. If she leaves, but she will not last long now, that Spanish princess. They say she is very ill. God will take her away or spare her as he knows best. Oh, but come, Maria, don't Pedro may come any minute now. Maria, look, it's my hair all right and my dress, my veil, oh, hurry. See, you are beautiful, just a touch of rouge. There. Now, run to the window, Maria. Can you see him? They got horses coming down the street, Senorita, men with torches. See, see, it is Don Pedro. Oh, my handsome prince, ah, but you are late. I know, things have happened at the palace, serious things. What is it, Pedro? My wife, the Spanish princess. She's... Yes, this evening Ines, she's dead. Poor thing. No, you are too kind, Ines. She wasted no love on you. She has always known that I did not love her. Our marriage was only a political arrangement. I know that, Pedro. That's why I'm sorry for her. It calls to be near you and to know that you love someone else must be torture. I've been jealous of her, of course, but I've not envied her, even though she was your wife in the eyes of the world. Ines, but now she is dead and things are different. When I follow my father on the throne of Portugal, it is you who will be the queen at my side. Pedro, what are you saying? It is impossible. It will be as I say. Your father will arrange another political marriage for you. Another Spanish princess, perhaps, who will be a rich dowry and support of Spanish troops. I could bring nothing but my love. And what more good I desire. Pedro, how will you manage this? It's very simple. We will be married before my father knows anything about it. Married? But when? No, at once. Pedro? Come to the church. Come, Maria, a clog for your mistress. Your Majesty, these alliances by marriage with Spain are an old and well-tried policy. We should by all means continue them. There is no better way to assure the good will of Spain toward us. And Spain is indeed a mighty power. This is the opinion of all the council. Very well, then. Harold, advise on Pedro that we wish to see him at once. See your Majesty. We fear that the future of Portugal demands that you contract a new marriage with another princess of the House of Castilla. The Spanish envoy assures me that such a project would be greeted with pleasure at Madrid. We wish now to inform you of our decision and to receive your consent. Is that all? Right. You consent, of course? No. What? I said no. Don Pedro, I am no longer speaking to you as your father. As king of Portugal, I order you to give your consent immediately. Your Majesty, I have sacrificed myself once for reasons of state. As crown prince of Portugal, I married a Spaniard whom I did not love. By her, I have had a son to carry on the royal line. My duty and at-respect is finished. I will not marry another Spanish princess. That is final. I will oblige you too? You cannot oblige me too. And why not pray? Because I am already married. Married? To whom? I know. It is an infamous Ines de Castro. That's all. King or no king, another word like that, and I shall kill you. Don Pedro, my son, be calm. Fillio disrespect is a grievous sin. I have married Senorita Ines de Castro. And when I succeed to the throne, she will be queen of Portugal. Never, never! Your Majesty, I have a plan. Plan? Yes, wait. Very well, Pedro. We shall not decide the matter today. Go. Lead your troops in your campaign across the Tavus. Perhaps the heat of battle will melt your stubborn heart. Farewell. Guard thee with your arms. Farewell. Now count. Your plan. What is it? We can do nothing with Dom Pedro as long as he is married to this decuster woman. He has loved her for many years. They are devoted. Yes, yes. I know all that. Come to the point. Dom Pedro will soon be safely out of the city. Then what is to prevent us from removing the only obstacle to the Spanish marriage? You mean? Ines de Castro. Shh. Wait a moment. The council may require? Yes, sir. Now we are alone. Well, continue. It is very simple. De Castro returns from her evening prayers at the cathedral at nightfall. Two men could strike her down in the streets. And I know the men. Get them. Here they are, your majesty. Are they trustworthy? They have been of service to me. Very well. But no bungling. I do not want wounds. I want corpse. You will have a corpse, your majesty. Oh, good. Two thousand cusados each. Come back here for it tonight. As soon as you have killed Ines de Castro. Ines de Castro? Never mind. I know. Come on. Let us go. And as the king and his evil advisor waited in the dark council chamber, the hired assassins stole through the gathering dust toward the cathedral. There they waylaid their victim. Their sharp daggers flashed. Ines de Castro fell dead. Great was the wrath of Pedro. Only the intercession of his mother prevented a civil war between Dom Pedro and his father. But Dom Pedro did not forget or forgive. Five years after the tragedy, King Afonso died. Pedro replaced him on the throne of Portugal. And became known as Pedro de Sevilla. Well, Carlos. Your majesty, I am happy to say that I was able to trace the assassins of Dona Ines to their hiding place in Spain. And you brought them back? Yes, your majesty. Excellent, Carlos. I shall remember you for this. See that they are well guarded. I shall deal with them later. Very well, sire. And now, the queen of Portugal. The queen of Portugal? I said the queen. Cardinal, listen to me. Prepare the cathedral at once. Flowers, music, candles, all the clergy, all your finest robes, incense. But your majesty. Silence. You have heard my wishes. Go and prepare. See your majesty. Chancellor, I want all the court at the cathedral within an hour in full dress. For the coronation. The coronation? Exactly. Tonight, we crown the queen of Portugal. And we crown thee Ines de Castro, queen of Portugal. A nominate partner, set filly, that spirit of sanctus, amen. Amen. Ines, my beloved. And so Pedro, through to his promise to his beloved wife, at last witnessed the coronation of Ines de Castro as queen of Portugal. With the full ceremony of coronation, his deepest tribute to her memory, five bitter years after the assassins of his father took her from him. Looking inland, we see the lofty mountain barrier which separates pastoral Portugal from the arid uplands of Spain. To the westward, there is no barrier but the sea. And the Portuguese have always been at home upon the sea lanes. It is largely due to a Portuguese prince that the 15th century became the era of discovery and that the limits of the known world were extended to include new continents. Deeply versed in mathematics and navigation, Prince Henry, surnamed the navigator, though he had never made an ocean voyage, spent the greater part of his life directing the efforts of Portuguese explorers. At his death in 1460, the west coast of Africa had been explored and charted as far as Cape Verde. The impetus given maritime science by his school at Saugus, where were gathered the greatest photographers, mathematicians and navigators of Europe, kept alive the spirit of scientific exploration Henry had fostered. Thus it was in 1497 that Vasco de Gama was commissioned by King Emmanuel I of Portugal to attempt to reach India by circumnavigating the African continent. Vasco, your ships are ready. They are the finest caravans ever built. Arthur Muldias himself was in charge of their construction. They are supplied with every known aid to navigation, every available chart and book. They carry stores for three years. The crews are all especially trained. You have the finest ship masters and pilots in Portugal. You will command the flagship, the Sao Rafael, your brother Paolo de Gargama, the Sao Gabriel, and Nicolas Coelho, the Sao Miguel. To you we entrust the royal standard of Portugal. In all confidence in your skill and courage we say, go Vasco de Gama for the glory of God and country. Music As the king waved God's speed to his explorers, as the people cheered and cannons fired their salutes, Vasco de Gama and his 160 adventurers hoisted the royal standard, loose the white sails of their vessels, and sailed out the mouth of the Tagus River for their epoch-making voyage. Holy mother of God, will he ever see land again? Not on this course, that is certain. I sail with Diaz. We made the whole west coast of Africa, but it was not like this. We stood on and off and landed every few days. But this, we have not seen land since we left the Cape Verde islands. Nor will we, I tell you, if we hold on like this to the southwest. We've been on his tag for how long, Bosun? Two months tomorrow, two months. Think of it. I am fighting, Bosun. You are not the only one, lad. It is getting darker and colder every day. There is less daylight, more darkness. Oh, I wish he would tack now. He swears he will stay on this tack till he is sure he can clear the Cape of Good Hope when he comes about. We will all be dead before then. He is insane. We will run into ice, or we will be swallowed up by some monster. The ships are taking water as fast as we can pump it out. I wish he would put back to Portugal. That's what I wish. Maybe he would if we were too full. That is a dangerous talk. Look, the Sao Miguel is standing over towards us. They are signaling. Listen. What is that? Oh-ho. The gamma. Well, go ahead. Many are sick. The ship is leaking. They insist we turn back or stand in toward the land. Listen, men. We will not turn back one ship's length. We will not stand in toward the land until I have held on this tack long enough to clear the Cape when we come about it. This is final. I want no more questioning. Did you hear that, men? It is no use. The other ships are afraid like we are. You heard what they said. We cannot go on with this mad man any longer. There's only one thing to do. Mutiny. Excuse me, Capitan, for running in. I did not want the men to see me. It's important, Capitan. Well, what is it? Sir, you know the men want to turn back. Yes, I know. Are you afraid, too, lad? Yes, sir. But I think you will bring us through while they do not think so. But please, sir. Go on. Are they up to something? They are planning to kill you and go back to Portugal. I was afraid of that. They are in earnest, sir. Thank you, lad. And be careful. If they suspect you, they will touch you overboard in a second. I know it, sir. But save yourself. Why did you risk this for me, my boy? I do not know exactly. Except that I... Well, I am just a little ship's boy. I do not matter if I live or die. But you are... You are a great Capitan. You must be saved from harm by ignorant men because you will find the route to India. At least you believe in me. Good lad. I have an idea. Yes, that is it. Tell the bosom to call the ship's company on deck. Yes, sir. Now, men, we are all gathered together because I have something important to tell you. You are all frightened and weary. Yes, we are weary. I am no more valiant than the rest of you. I am just as tired as you. I would like to be home in Portugal just as much as any of you. I am not an inhuman monster who enjoys seeing you terrified and suffering. I know you do not want to go on. And these ships, after all, these storms are in a dangerous condition. So, I do not want to be answerable for your lives. Therefore, I have decided that if we run into bad weather again, I shall abandon the voyage and head back to Portugal. I thought that would please you. It pleases me too. But there is a formality to go through first because if we go back, the king will blame me unless I have something to show him. Therefore, my clerks are preparing a document setting forth all the reasons we have for abandoning the voyage. And I want each one of you to sign it. Yes, sir. Now, the document is in my cabin. You will sign in order of rank. First, the shipmaster, the navigator, and the pilot. The rest of you after it. Come forward, you three. Come in. Here, Carlos. Miguel, put the three men in iron. Quickly, push them into the lower cabin. Lad, fetch me all their navigating instruments at once. Bring them to me on the quarter deck. Yes, sir. Now you, Miguel, stand watch over the prisoners. Carlos, come on deck with me. Give me the instruments, please. Here they are, sir. Now look, you coward. Here are all the navigating instruments in the ship. You'll see what I do with them. Holy Mary, he's thrown them overboard. Over the board. The instruments are gone. See, they are gone. And the only three men in the ship who know how to use them are my prisoners. Now move from you and they will be killed. Now you will go with me where I choose to take you. You will rely on me from now on, or you will perish. You can all know now that this voyage is going on as planned. And if I do not obtain the information the King sent me to get, neither I nor any of you will ever return to Portugal. Thus it was that the indomitable Vasco da Gama persevered in his purpose. Ten months after leaving Lisbon, he dropped anchor in Calcutta, having crossed the South Atlantic within a few hundred miles of South America. The sea route to India was open. For a brief period, Portugal was the world's greatest maritime empire. The might of Portugal endured until her armies were defeated by the Spanish king Philip II, whose ferocious lieutenant, the Duke of Alba, placed Portugal under the Spanish yoke in 1581. From then on, her power melted away. Her far-flung colonies, Madeira, Brazil, India, and China were lost to her. And though she passed through a long succession of political changes, from a Spanish protectorate to a constitutional monarchy and dense to a republic, Portugal has never regained her ancient standing as one of the great powers. Through Upper Portugal, flows the river Douro. At its mouth lies beautiful Oporto, in its present aspect, very much like a city of the 18th century. It was the ancient city on this spot which gave its name to the whole country. For the Romans called it Portus Calais. It is by the wine which grows in the Douro Valley that Oporto is known chiefly to the modern world. In the days when George III was king of England, rich, warm, ruddy port wine became the delight of the aristocrats of Europe. Through crystal decanters, it has shed its purplish glow on the fine white linen of countless dinner tables in the old and the new worlds. Kings and diplomats, princes and merchants have sat long at table as the handicatters were passed around comparing notes and savoring the rare, rich taste of good port wine. It is perhaps due in part to the glow of the sudden sun thus brought into foggy England hogsets from Oporto that the English have ever been firm allies of Portugal. So as our ship steams out of the harbor of Oporto to carry us home, let us profit by this delight of the gourmet to drink a toast to charming hospitable Portugal in the generous wine which will serve henceforth to stir in our hearts a cordial souvenir of this beautiful country. We invite you to join us again next week at this time as we journey to another of the world's fascinating ports of call.