 Come to three of the Lusiads. This Librivox recording is in the public domain recording by Lenny the Lusiads by Luiz Vais de Camões Translated by Sir Richard Francis Burton. Come to three Argument of the Third Canto The talk of Vasco da Gama with the king of Melindy wherein he described with Erip and recounted the origin of the kingdom of Portugal its kings including the king Don Fernando and its principal achievements the notable feat of Igaius Moniz the Queen of Castile Dona Maria visited Portugal to crave aid for the battle of the Salado the loves and luckless fate of Dona Inês de Castro some events which befell the king Don Fernando another argument a populace Europa se descreve de Igaius Moniz o feito sublimado Luzitania que reis que guerras teve Cristo a Afonso se expõe em crucificado de Don Inês de Castro a pura neve impur pura converte o povo virado mostra se o viu descuido de Fernando e o grão poder de um gesto suave brando Populous era passeth and review Igaius Moniz is praised for famous feet What kings and wars are Luzitania new Afonso sees the Christ uncross a late Agnes de Castro's breast of snowy hue with innocent blood and purple popular hate Fernando's vile neglect is shown to shame and the high powers that youth and beauty claim Tanto 3 Now my calliopee to teach incline what speech great gamma for the king did frame Inspire immortal song grand voice divine unto this mortal who so loves thy name Thus may the God whose gift was medicine to whom thou bearest Orpheus lovely Dane Never for Daphne clitia leucathoi do love the nighty or inconstant grohe Satisfying them desires that in me team to sing the merits of the illusions brave So world shall see and say that tag a stream rose agonipis liquor leave I crave Leave flowery pindice head in now I deem Apollo baits me in that sovereign wave Else must I hold it that thy gentle sprite Fears thy dear Orpheus fade through me from sight All stood with open ears in longer ray to hear what mighty gamma molten fold When past in thoughtful mood a brief delay began he thus with brow high raised and mold Thou bidest me okay to say my say and then our grand genealogy of old Thou bidst me not relate an alien story Thou bidst me loud my brother losing's glory That one praise others exploits and renown is honored custom which we all desire Yet fear I to unfit to praise my own less praise like this suspect no trust inspire Nor may I hope to make all matters known for time. However long we're short Yet sire as thou commendest all is owed to thee Mawgher my will I speak and brief will be Nay more what most obligeth me in fine is that no leasing in my tail may dwell For of such feats whatever boast be mine when most is told remaineth much to tell But that do order wait on the design in as desires thou to learn full well The widespread continent first I'll briefly trace Then the fierce bloody wars that waged my race Twix the zone where cancer holds command the loose and some Subtentary on all meat and that whose frigid horrors freeze the land as burns the middle belt with fervid heat Lies haughty Europe on her goodly strand Facing your tourists and opponent beat the briny billows of Atlantis plain While free towards Ulster flows the Midland Main That part where lovely dawn is born and bred Neighbor with Asia but the curved river from far and for ripy and ranges shed To feed Mayotas League with waves that shiver Departs them and the sea straight fears and dread that own the victory of the Greek deceiver Where now the seamen sees along the shore Triumphant Troia's memories and no more There further still the boreal pole below Hyperborean mountain walls appear and the wild hills where Elis loves to blow While of his winds the names they proudly bear Here such cold comfort doth Apollo show So weak his light and warmth to shine and cheer that snows eternal gleam upon the mountains Freezes the sea and ever frees the fountains Here of the civic hordes vast numbers be an olden day a mighty warrior ban Who fought for honors of antiquity with the then owners of the Nile's land But how remote their claims from verity for human judgments oft misunderstand Let him who seeks what higher lore revealed ask the red clay that close Damascus field Now in these wild and wayward parts be told cold lapland's name uncultivate Norway a Scandinavius Isle whose science bold both triumphs Italy shall never gain say Here while Niffrost the wintry rigorous hold in hem the waters Seafol ply the way over the arm of rough Sarmatic Maine the Swede the Brugian and the shivering Dane Between the sea and tennis stream we count strange races Ruthans, Moscos and Livonians Sarmate all of old and on the mount Hercinian Marco many now Polonians Holding the empire el main paramount dwells Saxons and Bohemians and Pannonians And other tribes were through their currents for Ryan the noob a messes and albis poor Twix distant Easter and the famous trade where hapless Heli left her name and life The Thracians won a folk of brave estate Mars well-loved country chosen home of strife Their rod api and hymns rule the weight of cursed oathman's rule with horror rife Bethans they hold beneath their yoke and dying great injury working to great constant time Hard by their side the Macedonians rest whose soil is watered by cold Axios wave Ikie of every choices realm the best Lens of the free the wise the good the brave that here did breathe and bear the facking breast And to the world its wit and wisdom gave where with thou noble Greece has reached the stars No less by arts exalt than arms and wars The Dalmets follow and upon the bay where rose and to Norse walls and while of yore Superb Venetia builds on watery way Adria's queen that earth's was lowly poor And seawords runs a land are made to sway Forceful the sons of many a stranger shore An arm of might whose rays have conquered time nor less by spirit than by sword sublime Gurdeth her shores the kingdom naptenine While nature's bullets fence her landward side Her middle width departeth Apennine by Mars her same and patron glorified But when the porter rose to rank divine she lost her prowess and her bellic pride Humble she lies with antique poisons spent So man's humility may his god content Galia can there be seen whose name hath flown where Caesar's triumphs to the world are towed By Saequanot is watered and the road by Rhine's deep current and Garumna Code Here rise the rains from Pyrene Gnome the nymph and sepulchred in days of old Wentz, legends say, the conflagrated woods rolled golden streams and flowed silver floods Low here her presence showeth noble spain of Erupp's body corporaled ahead Or whose home rule and glorious foreign reign the fatal wheel so many world hath made Yet near her past her force her fraud shalt stain No restless fortune shall her name degrade No bonds her bellic offspring buying so tight But it shall burst them with its force of sprite There facing Tingetania's shore she seemed to block and bar the Mediterranean wave Where the known strait its name and noble dimeth by the last labor of the Theban Brave Big with the burden of her tribes she dimeth circled by welling waves that rage and rave All noble races of such valiant breast that each may justly boast itself the best Here's the Targanese who famed and wore made Aperture Parthenope obey The twain Asturias and the hot Navarre twin Christian bulwarks on the Muslim way Here's the Gallego Cannae and the rare Castilian whom his star raised high to sway Spain as her savior and his sanary few Betis, Leon, Granada and Castile See the head-crown incarnate is she of General Ereb, Luzetania's reign Where andeth land and where begineth sea and Phoebus sinks to rest upon the main Wild her the heavens with all just decree by wars to mar the noble Moritan To cast him from herself nor their consent he rule in peace the fiery continent This is my happy land my home my pride where if the heavens but grant the prayer I pray For glad return and every risk defied there may my lifelike fail and fade away This was the Luzetania name applied by Lusus or by Lisa Sons they say of ancient Bacchus where his boom compears each the first dwellers of her eldest years Here sprang the shepherd in whose name we see Forecast of virile might of virtuous need Whose fame no force shall ever hold in fee since fame of mighty Rome ne'er did the deed This by light heavens volatile decree that ancient Scyther who devours his seed Make poisons power in many a part to claim assuming regal rank and thus it came A king there was in Spain Afonso Hyde who waged such warfare with the Saracen That by his sanguine arms and arts and might he spoiled the lands and lives of many men When from her Culean colpi winged her flight his fame to Caucasus mount and Caspian glen Many a night whom no bless coveteth comes offering service to such king and death And with intrinsic love and flamed more for the true faith than honors popular They trooped gathering from each distant shore leaving their dear left homes and lands afar When with high feats of force against the moor they proved of singular worth in holy war Will it Afonso that their mighty deeds commensurate gifts command and equal needs Medem and Hickey, second son, men say, of a Hungarian king well known and tried By sort won Portugal which in his day ne'er prized was, ne'er had fit cause for pride His strong affection stronger to display the Spanish king decreed a princely bride His only child Therese to the count and with her made him Sanger paramount This dotty vessel from that servile horde Hager the handmade seed, great victories won Ref the broad lands adjacent with his sword and did whatever bravery be done Him for his exploits excellent to reward God gave in shortest space a gallant son Was armed to noble and famous fame the warlike name of Lusitania's reign Once more at home this conquering Henry stood whose sacred hero Solima had relieved His eyes had fad of Jordan's holy flood which the dear body of Lord God had left When Godfrey left no foe to be subdued and all Judea conquered was and saved Many that in his wars had done devour to their own lordships took the way once more But when the stout and gallant Han attained life's fatal period age and travail spent He gave by death's necessity constrained his right to him who had that spirit land A son of tender years alone remained to whom the sire bequithed his bodyment With bravest braves the youth was formed to cope for from such sire such son the world may hope Yet old report I know not what its weight for on such antique tale no man relies Said that the mother taining told the state a second nuptial bed did not despise Her orphan son to disinherited fate she doomed declaring hers the dignities not his With scenery or all the land her spouse old dowry by her sire's command Now Prince Afonso who such style had tain in Pius's memory of his grandsire's name Seeing no part and portion in his reign all piled and plundered by the spouse and dain by Dar and Daughty Mars inflamed the main privately plots his heritage to claim He weighs the causes in his own conceit till firm resolve its fit effect shall greet Afgi marange the field already flowed with floods of civil warfare's bloody tide Where she who little of the mother showed to her own bowels love and land denied Fronting the child in fight the parents stood nor saw her depths of sin that soul of pride Against her god against maternal love her sensual passion rolls all power above O magical Medea O prognet dire if your own babes in vengeance dare you kill For alien crimes and injuries of the sire looky Therese's deed was darker still foul greed of gain incontinent desire were the main causes of such bitter ill Silla her aged sire for one did slay for both Therese did her son betray Right soon that noble prince clear victory won from his harsh mother and her fear and dine In briefest time the land obeyed the sun though first to fight him did the folk incline But raft of reason and by rage undone he bound the mother in the biting chain F. Soon's avenged her griefs the hand of god such veneration is the parents owed Low the superb Castilian gains prepare his part to avenge Therese's injuries Against the losing land in man so rare where on the toil the trouble heavy lies Their breasts the crew battle grandly dare aid the good cause angelic potencies Unwrecking might unequal still they strive Nay more their dreadful foe to flight they drive Passeth no tedious time but for the great prince doer siege in Gimmarine's Dread By passing power for to mend his state came the fell enemy full of grief and greed But when committed life to direful fate Agash the faithful guardian he was freed Who had in any other way been lost all unprepared against such well-meaning host But when the loyal vessel well have known how weak his monarch's arm to front such fight So an order went into the Spanish phone his sovereign's homage he doth pledge and plight Straight from the horrid siege the invader flown trusted the word and honor of the night Agash monish but now the noble rest of the brave youth disdaineth strange behest Already came the plighted time and tide when the Castilian dawn stood died to see Before his power the prince bent low his pride yielding the promised obedience Agash who views his nightly word bullied while still Castile believes in true to be Sweet life resolveth to the winds to throw nor live with foulest taint of faithless vow He with his children and his wife departeth to keep his promise with a faith immense Unshod and stripped while their plight imparteth far more of pity than of vengeance If mighty monarch still thy spirit smarteth to wreck revenge on my rash confidence What he behold I come with life to save my pledge my nightly honors word I gave I bring thou ceased here lives innocent of wife of sinless children died to die If breasts of generous mold and excellent accept such weaklings woeful destiny Thou ceased these hands this tongue inconsequent here on alone the fierce experiment try of Torments death and doom that pass in full sin is or in perilous brazen bull As drifted white the hangman stands before in life still draining bitter draught of death Lace throat on block and of all hope for lore expects the blighting blow with bated breath So in the prince's presence angry sore Agash stood firm to keep his plighted faith When the king marveling at such wondrous truth feels anger meld and merge in royal Ruth all the great porting all fidelity of vessel self-devote to doom so dread What did the Persian mourn for loyalty whose gallant hand his face and nostrils shred When great Darius mourned so grievously that he a thousand times deep sign said Far he preferred his sopyrus sound again than lord of 20 babelans terrain But prince Afonso now prepared his band of happy loosens proud to front the foes Those hotty moors that held the glorious land yon side were clear delicious taggots flows Now on Uriki field was pitched and planned the royal campmen fears and bellicose Facing the hostile host of Sarasen though there are so many here so few there been Confident yet would he not confide Saving his god that holds of heaven the throne So few baptized stood their king beside there were a hundred moors for everyone Judge any sober judgment and decide to as deed of rashness or by bravery done to fall on forces Whose exceeding might a century showed to a single night Order five Moorish kings the hostile host of whom ishma so-called command of claim All of long warfare large experience boast wherein may mortals win immortal fame And gallant dames the knights they love the most company like that brave and beauty's dame Who to beleaguered Troy such adents gave with woman troops that drained their mother's wave The cool serene and early morning's pride now pale the sparkling stars about the pool When Mary's son appearing crucified in vision strengthened king Afonso so But he adoring such appearance cried fired with a frenzied faith beyond control To then fiddle oh lord to then fiddle not lord to me who know thy power so well Such gracious marvel in such manners sandflamed delusion spirits fears and high Towards their natural king that excellent prince unto whom love boom non could deny Aligned to front the foam and prepod hand. They shouted resonant slogan to the sky And fears the lauren rose real real for high Afonso king of portugal As to the fight might cause the fight and cries some fierce molosson on the wooden height Attacks the rampant bull who most relies on strength of temer's horn to force the fight Now nips the ear then at the side he flies barking with more of nimbleness than might Till ripped at last the gullet of his foe he lays the mighty bulk of monster low So the new king inflamed with zeal devout for god nor less for faithful legious sake assails by cunning skill the barbarous route with braves the fronting fowlons eith to break We're at the bend ox Allah Allah shout and fly to arms our raging warriors shake the lance and bow Resound the trumpet tones the music thunders echo moans and groans Ian as the prairie fire and kindled on some parched step and winner with upper air Sibylant Boreus by the blessed swift bloom or bush and arid break rains flame and flare The shepherd's lads and lesses idly strone in rest and gentle slumber Waked by Blair of crackling conflagration blazing higher Hamlet was forced their flocks to fly the fire The stallion mormon in such startled guise snatcheth his weapon hastily and sun-heed Yet he awaits the fight nor even flies may spurs his battle guinead to its speed Meet him as rash and swift his enemies whose piercing lances garr his bosom bleed These fall half slain while others flee that can convoking aides of their all-kiran They may be viewed counters madly rash on Saxon Osehra's sturdy strength can stand While charging here and there the chargers dash The gifts of Neptune's smiting gravid land Buffets they deal and blows that bash and smash Burneth and Blazeth warfare's blasting brin But he of Lysis, coat, mail, plate of steel, Hacks, hues, breaks, bedders, rives, and rinsed piecemeal Men's heads like bullets dance to bloody plain Ownerless arms and legs insensible lie And quivering entrails tell of mortal pain and faces fade and life's fair colors fly Lost is that impious host whose heaped slain row o'er the greenery rills of crimson die Whereby the grasses lose their white and green And not but glow of crimson gore is seen But now the lucent victor held the field His trophies gathering and his gorgeous spray The crush to his spanish moor was forced to yield While on the plain three days the great king lay And now he charges on his virgin shield What still assures the well-won victory Five noble in his kitchens azure-hued Signing the Moorish Five, his sword subdued He paints with peasants five each scotchen The thirty silvers wherewith God was sold And various tinctures make his memory known Whose grace and favor did his cause uphold Painted on every sunk a sunk is shown And that the thirty may be fully told Counteth for two the one that centralize Of the five azures painted cross sea-wise Sometime has passed since this gain had passed of goodly bat-hill When the high king hies to take lay-rear Lately tame and last conquest that boast our conquered enemies Herewith aronches, castles, strong and fast Is jointly gated with the noble prize Scaloby Castro whose fair fields amine Thou chrysletagus bathest all serene Unto this conquered roll of towns his smite Ik edeth mafra, one in shortest space And in the mountains which the moon had hight He clasps fro'r Sintra to his heart and brace Sintra whose niads love to hide their light By hidden founts and fly the honeyed lace Which love hath woven, mid the hills where flow The waters flaming with a living lull And thou, O noble Lisbon, Thou and crowned princess-elect Of city's capitol Reared by the feckon rover-king renown Whose wiles they glowed are danious burning wall Thou, whose commands obliged to cease Profound, was taught to bear the Lusitanian's thrall Aided by potent navies at what time They came crusading from the boreal climb Beyond Germanic albis and the reen And from Britannia's misty margins Sent to waste and slay the people's seresene Many had sailed on holy thoughts in tent Now gained the tagus-mouth Are streamed amine To great Afonso's royal camp they went Whose lofty fame did thence the heavens invade And siege to Ulyssia's walls they laid Five sequent times her front had Luna bealed Five times her lovely face in full had shone When oped her gate the city Which availed no force against sieging forces round her throne Right bloody was the salt And fierce the sailed In, as their stubborn purpose bound them down Estrus the victor, ready all to their The vanquished victims of a dire despair Thus one she yielded And in fine she lay prostrate that city Which, in days of old, the mighty maini Never would obey Of frigid city's hordes eminently bold Who could so far extend their savage sway Till Erosot and Tagus trembling rolled And some, or Betisland, in short, So swept that was the region Vendalia clapped What might of city could perchance Endure prowess which proudly Shboa might not bear Whom might resist the powers Dure and dour of men Whose fame from earth invaded air? Now yield obedience, all extremadure, Obidus to his Vedras, Alenke, Where softly plashed the music murmuring waves Made rocks and reefs Whose feet the torrent laves Iquie, trans-Tagan lands, yet justly vain A flavor, serious being, and bony boom Yielded to might Above the might of men The walls and castles By his valour won Thou, too, more young men, Hope is hope insane Those ryan regions long as Lord to own For Elvish, Moura, Serpa, Well-known sites With Alcácer do Sao must yield their rites The noble city and sure seat behold Held by Sertorius, rebel fame belong Where now the knitted silvery waters cold Brought from afar to blast the land and home Or flow the royal arches hundredfold Whose noble sequence tricks the dark blue dome Not less succumbed she To her bold pursuer To Giraldo, entitled Night Sampere Fast towards Beja city, vengeful pressed To slay his wrath for spoiled trancosos rung Afonso, who despised gentle rest And would breathe human life by feign prolong Feebly resisted him in his behest the city Falling to his arms year-long And not of life within her walls But feel the raging victor's edge of merciless steel With these, Palmela yielded to the war Pesca cesimbra ick her finest spoils Then aided onwards by his fortunate star The king, a powerful force of foment foils Felt at the city, sought her lord afar Who, to support and aid her, spares no toils Along the hill-skirt marching all unwere Of rushing counter, lacked he heed and care The king of Badajois was a muslin bull With hoarse four thousand fears and furious nights And countless peons armed and died with gold Whose polished surface glinted lustrous light But as a savage bull on lonely wold Whom jealous rage and hot may-mountain cites Citing a stranger mad with love and wrath The brute blind lover charges down the path So doth Afonso, sudden seen the foes That urged their forward march securely brave Strike, slay, and scatter, reigning doubt he blows Flies the more king, who wrecks but self to save Not save a panic fear his spirit knows His followers seek to follow only crave While ours, who struck a stroke so sore, so fell Where sixty horsemen told in fullest tale Victories swift pursuing Rest disdaineth the great, untiring king He mustereth all the legions of his land Whom not restraineth From ever seeking stranger realms to throw He went to Ligur Badajois, where he gaineth His soul's desire, and battleth at her fall With four soul-fears and art and heart so true His deeds made others feign to dare and do But the High Godhead, who when man offends So long-deserved penalties, delays Waiting at times to see him make amends Or for deep mystery hid for men's dogays If he, our valiant king, till now defends From dangers, face it fast as foes can raise Lens aid no longer, when for vengeance cries The mother's curses, who in prison lies For in the city which he compassed round And compassed by the Leonese was he Because his conquests trespassed on their ground Which of Leon and not of Portugal be Here was his stubborn will right costly found As happened oft in human history, And iron maimed his legs as rage inflamed To fight he flies and falls a captive maimed O famous Pompey, feel thy wrath no pain To see the fate of noble feats like thine Nor mourn if all just nemesis ordain Thy bays be torn by siren law and dine Though fuzz is frore and part sienna plain Whose perpendicular shadows ne'er decline Boots, icebergs, and equator fires Confest the terror, which thy name inspires Though rich Arabia and the brute ferocious Heniochs Will caulk his region known of your For golden fleece, and though the Cappadoces and Judeans Who one only god adore Though softs of finis and the rays atrocious Silician, with Armenia whence all poor The twain of mighty streams Whose farthest fount hides in a higher And a holier mount, and though in fine From far Atlantic tide Into the torus sitious towering wall All saw thee conquer Fearless, still abide If none save Emmeth feel beheld thee fall Thy shalt behold Afonso's woven pride Lies subjugated, that subjugated all Such fate celestial counsel long foresaw Dine from a sire, his from a son in law Return the king sublime in fine With sprite by the just doom of judge divine Chastised, and when of Santareng in pride of might The Saracen a bootless siege devised And when of Vincent, martyr Benedi, The precious cores by Christian people prized, From sacrum promontorium was conveyed And reverent wise in Ulyssae a lead. Faster to push the project still in hand, The toil spent fathers sent his stout young son Better him pass to Alentejo's land With warlike gear and soldiers many a one. Sancio, a sovereign wielder of the brand, Straight-forward passing, Gore red guards to run the stream Whose waters feed Seville, and flood Died by the British Mormon's barbarous blood. With hunger wetted by this new success, Now resteth not the youth till Sight his eyes another slaughter, sores this, Opress the barbarous host That circling Beja lies. Not long the prince, whom fortune loves to bless, Waits the fair end where leads his dear in prize, But now the routed moors to vengeance Cleave, their only hope such losses to retrieve. They crowd the mighty mount, Whereof Medus rubbed his body, Who the skies abhor. They flock in thousands from Cape Ampilus, And from Tanger and Tia's seat of yore. A bileous dweller offered scant excuse, Who with his weapon hasteth him the more, When heard the Moorish clarion's shrilly tone, And all the rain high juba will'em owned. The mere al-Muminin, who led the throng From the dark continent past to Portugal, Thirteen Moor kings he led, high, hot, and strong, To his imperial sceptre subject all. Thus wrecking forceful, every tyrant wrong, Whereever easy wrong moored state his gull. Sanchu, in Santarain he flies to invest, Yet his was hardly of success the best. Gives Ostra's battle, fighting fury fraught, The hateful Moor, A thousand feints designing, Ne horrid catapult avails him odd, Ne forceful battering ram, ne hitting mining. Afonso's son, conserving force and thought, And firm resolve with warlike skill combining, Forceeth all with prudent heart and art, And stern resistance brings to every part. But now the veteran, doomed by ears to ease And gentle rest from life of toil and team, Being the city, down whose pastured lease Mondeco's wavelets kiss the hem of green, When learned how fast his son, Baleigard, is, in Santarain, By Moor men blind with spleen, Fast from the city flies the foam to meet, Age idlest, spurning with fast eager feet. He heads his army, tried in war, And known his son to succor, And his well-led host shows wanted portingal fury all their own, Till, in brief time, the Moor is broken lost. The battle-plane, whose bloodstain fraunt as strong, With steely coats and caps of varied cost, Horse, charger, harness, rich and worthy price, Heaped with their owners' mangled corpses lie. Forth fares the remnant of the pain-imbrie, From Lusitania, hurled in headlong flight, But Mir al-Muminin may never flee, For ere he flee, his life hath fled the light. To him whose arm vouchsafed such victory, In praise and stintless prayer our hosts unite, Chances so passing, strange may clear to kin, God's arms smite sorter than all arms of men. Such crown of conquest Still bedecked the brow of old Afonso, Lord of lofty fame, when he and fine, Whoever foiled his foe was foiled, By ancient times unyielding claim. Past the death-sickness, or his pellet-brow, Its frigid hand, and wrung his feeble frame, And thus the debt of mortal shoulders laid, His years to gloomy livetina paid. His loss the lofty promontory's mourn, And from the wavy rivers floods of grief, With lakelets overspread the fielded corn, And trickling tears our sorrow's sole relief. But ring so loud, or earth's extremest borne, The fame and exploits of our great lost chief, That evermore shall echo for his reign Afonso, Afonso, cry, and cry in vain. Sancio, his lusty son, The worthy heir of his great father's valour, Force and might, As did his early doings, clearly clear, When betties fled and sanguine from the fight, And from Andalusia forced to fare, The barbarous king and people ischnalite, And more, when they who vainly beja-gird Of his shrewd blows themselves and borne the herd, After he had been raised to royal haste, And held for years a few his father's land, He went the city's silvus to invest, Plowed whose plain the barbarous peasants' hand. With allies valorous was his daring blast, The sturdy Germans whose armada meant By furnished host was flying o'er the wave, The lost Judea to regain and save. To join in holy enterprise they went, Red Frederick, who did first to move begin His mighty armament and sicker's scent, To war the town where Christ had died for men. And Guy, whose crozzers were by thirst best spent, Yielded his sword to Gal and Saladin. There, where the Muslim host was well supplied, With what restore to those of Guy denied. But that majestical army that came By dint of Stormwind, or the Lisbon Bar, Would aid our sons through the foul foe to tame, All being bounden for the holy war. As to his father, hapt to him the same, And Lisbon fell to fortune similar, Aided by Germans' silvs' town he takes, And the fierce dwellers' slaves or subject-nakes. And if so many trophies from a hound his valorous nature'd, Eek denies his pride, the Leonies in peace to till their ground, Whom marked with martial usage loved to guide, Till on the bended knack his yoke he bound, Of Hottetouy and all its countryside, Where many a city felt the dreaded blow, Which with thine arms thou, Saint-Chu, broughtest low. But mid his many palms the Sprint's way led The stroke of Temer's death. His heir preferred was that esteemed son Whom all obeyed, Second Afonso, of our kings, the third. He reigning, Alcácer do Sáuas made ours, Snatched forever from the Moorish herd, That erst was taken by the Moor beset, And now, perforce, he pays of death the dead. Afonso dying, straight to him, Succeedeth a second Saint-Chu, Is he going soul, Who, in his weakling idleness so exceedeth, The ruled rule their ruler and their tool? He lost the reign, For which another pleaded, by private preference, The private of rule, Since, governed only by his minions, Will, he made him partner in their works of ill. Yet, nere was Saint-Chu, no, Such profit it passed, As was that Nero wedded with a boy, Who, in foul incest, showing horrid zest, His mother Agrippina dared enjoy. Nero with strange cruel arts, That he molest the Lige, Nor guard the torch his town destroy, He was no waster, no heliogabalus, No woman king like Sofster than a palace. Nero was his tyrannized people, So chastised as wretched sysil, By her tyrant bane. Nero, like the despot phallarists, Had devised novel inventions for inhuman pain. But his high-hearted realm, Which ever prized lords of the highest hopes And sovereign strain, Would nerehold sold such a king obey, Who showed not fittest for the kingly sway. Hence came the governance of the reign To write the county bawling as, And he rose at length to kingship, When from life took flight His brother Saint-Chu sunk in soft repose. This, whom the brave Afonso subjects hide, When fenced his kingdom from internal foes, Strives to dilate it, what his sire possessed, Is worlds too narrow for so big a breast. Of both Algarves, given to his hand In gift of bridal dowry, Greater part his arm recovers, And outdrives the band of moors Ill-treated now by hostile mark, He freed and made the mistress Of her land Arlusitania, such his bellic art, Till final ruin whelmed the mighty hordes, Where rare earth-owned lusus subjects lords. See, next that geniche comes In whom is seen, The brave Afonso's offspring true and dying, Whereby the mighty boast obscured Bean, The vaunt of liberal Alexander's line, Beneath his sature blooms the land serene, Already compassed golden peace divine, With constitution, customs, laws, and rites, A tranquil country's best and brightest lights. The first was he who made Coimbra un Palas Menerva generous exercise. He called the muses choir from Helican To tread the lee that by Montego lies. What tear of good, while year hath Athens done, Here proud Apollo keepeth every prize. Here gives he garlands, Wove with golden ray, With perfume-nard, and ever-verdened bay. Brave towns and cities reared his hand anew, Stalfortalized and strongly castle-mure, While his well-nigh-reformant kingdom grew, With stalwart towers and lofty walls secure. But when drew atropus cut short the clue, Ensure the thin-spun thread of life mature, Arose to filial duty, Nidering the fourth of Fonsu, yet a brave good king. The sprawled Castileus bravades with equal pride the spies, Of soul and breast serenely grand, For aid the Lusitanians spritified Fear of the strongest, though the smaller band. But when the Mauritanian races hide To win and wear his perious, winsome land, And marcheth boldly to debel Castile, superb Afonso wands to work her wheel. There did Samirimus, such myriad sea, Who ordered wide Hedespic prairie trod, Nor Adela, who, downteth Italy, With dreadful boast, self-titled scourge of God, Hurried such gothic hosts to victory, As the wild Saracens to pen this crowd, With all the excessive might Granada yields That flock to battle on Tartus's fields. When saw Castileus monarch high and hot, Such force, inexpegnable, faint of strife, Dreading, lest all Hispania come to not, Once lost ere this, far more than loss of life, Aid of her Lusian chivalry he sought, And sent the summons by his dearest wife, His spouse who sent her and the joy and pride Of the fond father to whose realm she hide. Entered Maria, fairest of the fair, Her father's palace halls of Taringhite, Lovely her jest, though joy was crushed by care, That brim'd her beauteous eyes with tears that blight, And waved her glorious wealth of golden hair, Or neck and shoulders ivory smooth and white, Before her gladly greeting sigh she stood, And told her mission in this melting mood. Whatever various races earth hath borne, The fierce, strange peoples of all afric land, Leadeth Morocco's mighty monarch, Sworn our noble Spain to conquer and command. Power like this ne'er met beneath the morn, Since bitter ocean learned to bathe the strand. They bring such fierceness and a rage so dread, The living shake and quake the buried dead. He to whose arms thou gavest me to wife, His land defending when such foes invade, Offers himself, or feeble for the strife, To the hard mercies of the Moorish blade. If, sire, thou day not aid at all dear life, Me shout thou sea from out the kingdom fade, Widowed, wretched, doomed to lot obscure, Son real, son husband, in some life secure. Wherefore, O king, of whom for purest fear Muluche's current in their coarse congeal, Cast from thee dull delay, rise, swift appear, A second savior to our sad Castile. If this thy countenance beaming love so dear, Sad on the father's fond proud heart at sea, O haste, father, succour, and thou hasten not, Happily he faileth who thy succour sought. Not otherwise fear filled Maria's spake, her sire, than Venus, when, in saddest strain, She pled to great all father for the sake Of her inious tossing on the main, And in Joe's breast could such compassion wake His dreadful thunders from his handfall vain. The Clement God had all to her concedeth, And mourneth only that no more she needed. But now the squad and warriors must her dance On Iborantian plains with fierce array, Glint in the sun glare, harness, sword, spear, lens, And richly furnish dastry her sprints and ae. The banner trumpets with a blast advance, Rousing men's bosoms from the gentle sway Of holy peace to dire refulgent arms, And down to dales reverberate war's alarms. Majestic marcheth, Gird by all his powers, The insignia of his royal state among, Valiant Afonso, and his tall-formed towers By neck and shoulders taller than the throne. His jest alone and braves the heart at cowards, In his stout presence walks the weakling strong. Thus to Castileus' realm he leads his band, With his fair daughter, Lady of the land. In fine when met the kings Afonso's twain, Upon Tarifa's fuel, They stand to front that swarming host Of stone-blind, hidden man, For whom are small the meadows and the mound. No sprite there liveth of so tough a grain, But fuels its faith and trust Of small account, That it not clearly see and fully know, Christ by his servant's arms shall smite the foe. The seed of Hagar laughing, as it were, To view the Christian powers so weak, so mean, Begins the lands as though their own To share ear-one among the conquering Hagarine. Such forged title and false style they bear, Claiming the famous name of Saracen. Thus, with false reckoning, Would they strip and spoil, Calling it theirs, that noble alien soil. In soul the barber's giant, huge and gowned, With cause to royal soul so dread-appearing, When seen the swordless shepherds stand afront, Armed but with pebbles and with heart and fearing, Launched his sneer of pride and ergon-taunt, At the weak younglings' humble raiment jeering, Who, whirl the sling, soon read the lesson well, How much shall faith all human force excel? Thus do the Mormon, traitor souls, Despise our Christian forces, Nor can understand how Heaven's high fortress Wanted aid of fies, Which in horrific hell may not withstand. On this and on his skill Castile relies, Falls on Morocco's king, strikes hand-to-hand, The portingle, who holds all danger light, Makes the grenade and kingdom fear his might. Behold, the brandished blade and lens at rest, Ring loud on coat and crest, A wild on set. They cried, as each his several lock on fast, These, Santiago and those, Mohammed. The cries of wounded men the skies oppressed, Whose flowing blood in ugly puddles met, Where other half-sling wretches drowning lay, Who dragged their shattered limbs from out the fray. With such prevailing force the Lusian fought the Grenadil, That in the shortest space an utter ruin of his host was wrought. The fence, the steely plate our strokes could face, With such triumph and victory cheaply bought, Unsatisfying, the strong arm flies apace, And timely aids Castile's toiling power, Still mixed in doubtful conflict with the Moor. Now brightly burning soul had housed his wane in fetish bower, And his lenting ray sank westward, Bearing hasper in his train, To close that rare and most-memorious day. When of the moors those valiant sovereigns Twain, the dense and dreadful squadrons swept away, With such fell slaughter as Nair told of men, The page of story since the world began. Nair could strong Marius in the quarter-show Of lives here victim by victorious fate, When to the river, red with gory glow, He sent his thirsty braves their drow to sate. They at the Carthaginian asked his foe To Roman power and cradle in her hate, When slain so many knights of noble Rome, Of their gold rings he sent three bushels home. And his soul thou so many souls to flit couldst force, And seek Cicita's reign of night, When thou the holy city didst quit Of the base Judean firm in Odenwright, To us that Jehovah's vengeance thus So fit, O noble Titus, Not by an arm of might, For thus inspired men had prophesied, And thus by Jesus' lips was certified. Accomplished his act of arms victorious, Home to his losing realm, Afonso's sped, To gain from peacetide triumphs great and glorious, As those he gained in wars and battles dread. When the sad chance on history's page memorials, Which can unsepulcher the sheet at dead, But fell that ill-starred miserable dain, Who, foul this lane, a throned queen became. Thou, only thou, pure love, Whose cruel might obligeth human hearts To will and woe. Thou, only thou, didst wreck such foul despite, As though she were some foul perfidious foe. Thy burning thirst, fierce love, They say a rite may not be quenched By saddest tears that flow. Nay, more, thy sprite of harsh, tyrannic mood Would see thine altars bathe with human blood. He placed thee fair in age, in soft retreat, Culling the first fruits of thy sweet young years, In that delicious dream, that dear deceit, Whose long endurance, fortune, hates and fears, Hard by Mondegos yearned for meds thy seed, Where linger, flowing still, those lovely tears, Until each hill-born tree and shrub confessed, The name of him, dippered within thy breast. There, in thy prints awoke, Responsive-wise, dear thoughts of thee, Which so deep ever lay, Which brought thy beautest form before his eyes, When there those iron of thine were far away, Night flat in falsest, sweetest fantasies, In fleeting, flying reveries sped the day, And all in fine, he saw or cared to see, Were memories of his love, his joys, his thee. Of many a dainty dame and damsel, The coveted nuptial couches he rejected, For not can air pure love, Thy care the spell, when one enchanting shade Thy heart subjected. These whims of passion to despair compel the sire, Whose old man's wisdom irrespective, His subjects murmuring at his son's delay To bless the nation with a bridal day. To wrench in ace from life, he doth design, Better his captured son from her to wrench, Deeming that only blood of death and dine The living low of such true love can quench. What fury will did that that steal so fine, Which from the mighty weight would never flinch Of the dread woman should be drawn in hate To work that hapless, delicate lady's fate? The horrible hangman hurried her before the king, Now moved to spare her innocence. But still, her cruel murder urged the more, The people swayed by fears and false pretence. She, with her pleading, spitiful and sore, That told her sorrows and her care immense, For her prince-spouse and babes, Whom more to leave than her own death The mother's heart did grieve. And heaven watched the clear and crystalline skies Raising her iron with piteous tears bestain, Her iron, because her hands, with cruel ties, One of the wicked ministers constrained, Gazing on her babes in wistful guise, Whose pretty forms she loved with love and fame, Whose orphaned lot the mother filled with dread, Unto their cruel grandson thus she said. If the brute creatures which from natal day On cruel ways by nature's will were bent, Or feral birds whose only thought is spray, Upon aerial repine all intent, If men, such salvaged beings, have seen display To little children loving sentiment, In as to Nina's mother did befall, And to the twain who reared the Roman wall, O thou who bearst of men the jest and breast, On it be men like thus to draw the sword on a weak girl, Because her love impressed his heart, Who took her heart and love and war, Respect for these her babes preserve at least, Since it may not her obscure death return, Moved be thy pitting soul for them and me, Although my faultless fault unmoved thou see. And if thou knowest to deal in direful fight The doom of brand and blade to moorish host, Know also thou to deal of life The light to one who ne'er deserved her life be lost. But on thou wouldst mine, in a sense thus requite, Place me for ae on sad exiled coast, And sit in sleet on sitting Libyan shore With life long tears to linger evermore. Place me where beasts with fiercest rage abound, Lions and tigers there, Let me find, if in their hearts of flint be pity found, Denied to me by heart of humankind. There, with intrinsic love and will so fun, For him whose love is death, There will I tend these tender pledges whom thou seest, And so shall the sad mother cool her burning woe. Inclined to pardon her, the king benign, Moved by the sad lemon to melting mood, But the rude people and fates doer design, That willed thus refuse the pardon sued. They draw their swords of steely temper fine, They who proclaim as just such deed of blood, Against a lady-cantive felon-whites, How shoggy hear, Brute beasts or noble knights, Thus unpolixinna that beauty is made, Lest solace of her mother's age and care, When doomed to die by fierce Achilles' shade, The cruel Pyrrhus hasted brand to bear, But she, a patient lamb by death way laid, With the calm glances which serene the air, Casts on her mother mad with grief her eyes, And silent wades that awesome sacrifice, Thus dealt with fair in age the murder's crew, In the alabastery neck that did sustain the charms whereby Could love the love subdued of him, Who crowned her after death his queen, Bathing their blades, the flowers of snowy hue, Which often watered by her iron had been, Our blood died, And they burned with blinding hate, Reckless of tortures stored for them by fate. Well-mightest shorn of race, O son, Appear to fiends like these on days so dark and dire, And when Thaestes ate the meats that were his seed, Whom Atreus looted to spite their sire, And you, O hollow valleys doomed to hear, Her latest cry from stiffening lips expire, Her Pyrrhus' name did catch that mournful sound, Whose echoes bore it far and far around, In as a daisy sheen that hath been shorn in time untimely, Florid fresh and fair, And by untender hand of maiden torn, To deck the chaplet for her rapid hear, Gone is its odor and its colors mourn, So pale and faded lay that lady there, Dried are the roses of her cheek, And flad the white life-color With her dear life dead. Mondego's daughter-names the death obscure wept many a year, With wails of wool exceeding, And for long memory changed to fountain-pure, The floods of grief their eyes were ever feeding, The name they gave it, which doth still endure, Revived in age whose murdered love lies bleeding, See you on fresh fountain flowing mid the flowers, Tears are its waters and its name amourish. Time ran not long ere Pedro saw the day of vengeance dawn for wounds that ever bled, Who, when he took in hand the kingly sway, Ick took the murderers who his rage had fled. Then a most cruel Pedro did betray, For both, if human life, the fulmin' dread, Made concert savage and dear-packed, Unjust as Lepidus made with Anthony and Augustus. This, in his judgment's rigorous and severe, Plunder at Valtry's murderers suppressed, To stay with cruel-grasp crime's dark career, Brad soul-assured saw us in his breast. A justice-hiery, not by love but fear, He guarded cities from hot tyrant past, Their doom or robbers dreed by his decrees, The emphesis loo, or vegging hercules. Pedro, the harshly just, Begets the bland, see what exceptions lurk in nature's laws, Remiss, and all-regardless prince Fernand, Who ran his realm in dangerous open jaws. For soon, against the weak, defenseless land, Came the Castilian, who came nigh to cause The very ruin of the Lusian reign, For feeble kings and feeble strongest strain. Or it was the wages' sin, the serfs of heaven, The serfs of heaven that filched Leonel from marriage bed, By false, misunderstood opinions, Driven another's wife, a lemon-bride, to wed. Or it was because his easy bosom, given to vice and vileness, And by both misled, walks it effeminate weak, Which may be true, for a low-placed loves The highest hearts subdue. Of such offences ever paid the paying many, Whom God allowed or willed he. Those who fared forth to force the fair Helen, Appius and Tarquin, Ick such end did see. Say, why should David of the saintly strain So blame himself? What fell at the illustrious tree of Benjamin? For, well, the truth, design a fairy of Arsera, Sick him for a diner. But if so weakened a forceful human breast, Illicit love, which spurns the golden mean, Well, in Octmena's son we find a test, As unfa'ly disguised to hero-queen. Anthony's fame, a shade of shame confessed, To Cleopatra bound by love to King. Nor, lest thou punic victor was betrayed, By low allegiance to some puglian maid. Yet, say, who, per adventure, shall secure His soul from Cupid armed with artful snare, Mid the life roses, human snow so pure, The gold and alabaster crystal clear, Whose capeth beauty's wills and parry in lure, The true Medusa face so awful fear, Which men's imprisoned, which bound heart can turn, No, not to stone, but flames that fiercely burn, Who seeth a firm-fixed glance, a gesture bland, Soft promise of angel excellence, The soul transforming, ay, by charm command. Say, who from power like this can find the fence? Party, his cantly blame with King Fernand, Who pays as he did, loves experience, But human judgment would, if fancy free, A judge his latches even worse to be. The End of Kantou 3 Another Argument Joan acclaimed to be Pedro's heir, Leonor Craiveth, aident of Castile, With standeth Nuno, warriors and fear, They fight, and conquest crowns the Lusian's wheel, Who first went forth the morning land to spear, And through the tumid flood his weight to fill, And how to gamma fell the great and prize, To guard our Portugal's glory higher rise. Kantou 4 After the horrors of the stormy night, With gloom and lightning gleams and hiss of wind, Breaks lovely mornings pure and blessed light, With hope of haven and sure rest to find. Saul banished the dark obscure from sight, Laying the terror of men's timid mind, Thus to the doubty kingdom it befell, When King Fernand obeyed this world farewell. For, if so many with such hopes were fired, For one who spilt an arm their harms could pay, And those that wrought their rungs with soul and tired, Nerved by Fernando's heedless feeble way, In shortest time it haped as they desired, When ever glorious John arose to sway, The only heir that did from Pedro's spring, And, though a bastard, every inch a king. That such accession came from heaven divine, Proved special marvels, God's truth proclaiming, When ever a city saw the choicest sign, A babe of age unspeached the ruler naming, And, but to show the heaven supreme design, She raised her cradle glimps and voice exclaiming, Portugal, Portugal, high uplifting hand, For the new king, dumb John, who rose the land. Changed in sprite were all within the rain, Old hatreds firing hard with novel flame, Absolute cruelties, none cared restraint, Popular fury dealt to whence it came, Soon are the friends and kith and kinsmen slain Of the adulterous county and the dame, With whom incontinent love and lust and blessed The wapened widow showered manifest. But he, dishonored and with cause at last, My cold white weapon falls before her eyes, And with him many to destruction past, For flame so kindled all-consuming flies. This, like as the annex is headlong cast, From the tall steeple spiked his dignities, Whom orders, altar, honors, not avail, Those through the highways torn and stripped they trail. Now long oblivion veils the deeds accursed Of mortal fierceness, such as Rome beheld, Done by fierce Marius or the bloody thirst of Scylla When Parforus his foe expelled. Thus Lenor, who mortal vengeance nursed For her dead county guards, With fury swelled Castileus' force on Lusitania fall, Calling her daughter heir of Portugal. Betris was the daughter interwed with the Castilian, Who, for kingship greeted, Putative offspring of Fernandus' bed, If evil fame so much to her conceited. Hearing the voice castile high-raised head, And saith this daughter to her sire succeeded, For warfare must wreath she, Her warrior bands from various regions, And from various lands. They flock from all the province, By one brigo, if such man ever was, I clapped of yore, and lands by Ferdinand I, And said Rodrigo, from the tyrannic governance of the Moor. Little in fear of warlike feet doth he go, Who, with hard plosure cleaving lordeth, Or the champagne leoness, and boasts to be The blight and bane of Moorish chivalry. In valorous ancient fame, the vandal host, Confident still, and stubborn, Gann appear, from all Andalusia's head, And boast, laughed by thy crystal wave, Gladalquivir, the noble island, Eek, while ere the post of Tyrion's strangers To the wardroon ear, bringing insignia, By renown, well-known, Hercules pillars, On their penance show. Eek, come they trooping from Toledo's rain, City of noble ancient origin spanned, By Tagas circling with his sweet glad vein, That bursts and pours from Conca's mountain land. You also, you, all craven fear, Does dame, sordid the legals, hard and canny band, For stern resistance, fast to arms ye flew, Warding their doubty blows, whose weight ye knew. Eek wars, black furies, hurried to the fight, The fears of the sky and folk, who cleaned the spies, All polished reasons, and the wrongness light Of stranger races, bare and patient, guys. Asturias land, and that we pusquan hide, Proud of the mine, which iron ore supplies, With it their haughtiest warders armed, And made ready their rightful lords, in the war to aid. John, in whose bosom peril only grows, The strength, Jew Samson bore, would of his hair, Though all he hath befew to fight his foes, Yet bids his few for battle-gauge prepare, And not that council fails when danger shows, With his chief lords he counsels on the fair, But drift of inner thoughts, his seeks and finds, For with the many there be many minds. Nor lack their reasonings, who would disconcert opinions, Firmly fixed in popular will, Whose will of ancient valor is convert, To an unused and disloyal ill. Man, in whose hearts fear, jellied and unheard, Raineth, which faith and truth were want to fill, Deny they king and country, and if tried, They had, as Peter did, their god denied. But Ner did such denialsen appear, In noble Nunu Alvarish, Ney, instead, Although his brothers showed the foes so clear, He fiercely chid the fickle heart misled, And to the legis steeped in doubt and fear, With phrase more forceful than fine-drawn he said, To fear for fekin, as he bared his glaive, Threating earth, seas, and sphere with ban and brave. What, mid the noble sons of Portugal, That nills to strike for freedom beats a hard? What, in this province, which the nations all crown, Worse princes, in every earthly part, Breeds, who his aid denies, such nithering thrall, Renaming faith and love, and force, and art, Of portingle? And be what ere the cause, would see his country Keep the strangers lost? What, flows not still within your veins The blood of the brave soldiers, Who nith banners borne by great and hicky spheres, With hero-mood, thus valiant race and war did ever scorn? When tamed so many banners, and withstood so many foemen, Who such losses borne, that seven noble yearls Were forced to yield their swords, Besides the spoils that strew the field? Say you, by whom were always trodden down, These, now who seem to tread down on you, For Dinesh, and his son of Hyrenal, Saved by your sires and grandsires therein do? Then, if by sin, or so neglect or throne, So could your olden force, Fernandan do, To you, fresh forces, this new king shall bring, On it be soothed that subjects change with king. Such king you have, that, on your courage have, Equal his kingly heart, your race to reign, All enemies shall you rout, so be you brave, Much more the routed is to rout again. But on such noble thought no more may save Your souls from penetrant fear to bosom tain, The craven hands of silly terrors tie, The strangers' yoke, I, only I, defy. I, with my vessels only, and my brand, This said, his dreadful blade he bared midway, Against the high and hostile force will stand, That threats a kingdom strange to strangers' sway, My virtue of my liege, my mourning land, Of loyalty denied by you this day, I'll conquer all, not only these my foes, But whatsoever dirged my king go pose. Even as the youths who escape in Caniff field, Its only remnants to Canusium fled despairing, And well-knighed disposed to yield, And hail the Carthaginian victory-led, The young Cornelius to their faith appealed, And took his comrade's oath upon his blade, The Roman arms to uphold as long as life hold, Or have power to escape the mortal strife. Forced of the falcon-forced and such wise Nuno, And when his final words they hear, Thice cold and sullen humor sudden flies, That curdled spirits with a coward fear, To mount the beast-neptunian all arise, Charging and tossing high the lance and spear, They run and shout with open-mouthed glee, Long live the famous king who sets us free. O the popular quests is not a few approve the war, Their NATO land and home sustains, These fare to furbish ornars, And remove injurious rust of peace the biting stains. They quilt their morians, plates for breast they prove, Each arms himself in as his fancy feints, While those encodes with thousand colors bright, The signs and symbols of their loves and died. With all this listerous company enrolled, From fresh abranches sell his John the Brave, Abranches fed by many a fountain cold Of Tagas rolling sweet abundant wave. The vanguard knights commends that warrior-bold, By nature fittest made command to have, Of d'Oriental hordes without encounter, Wherewith sir exercies cross the hell-espond. I say, Don Nuno, who appeared here, The proudest squirger of that prideful Spain, As was in olden days the hun-soul fear, Curse of the Frankish of Italian men, Followed another far-famed cavalier, Who led the dexter-fellings Lusitane, Up to dispose them, prompt to lead his fellows, Men Rodrigues, they call, de Vasconcelos. While of the knights in corresponding flank, Antón Vasques de Almada hath command, To Abranches' earldam rose anon his rank, Who holds the Lusian host's sinister hand. Nor far the banner from men's notice strength in rear, Where, sunk by Castles' borders, stand, With John the king, who shows a front so dread, Ian Mars must learn to hide his diminished head. Line at the rampart groups of trembling fear, Whom hopes and fears alternate heat and freeze, Mothers and sisters, wives and brides in prayer, With fests and pilgrim vows the heavens to please. And now the squadrons want the war to dare, Afront the sered hosts of enemies, Who meet this onset with a mighty shout, While all are welled in dreadful, direful doubt. Messenger trumpets to the cries reply, And sibilant fife and drum and atom bore, While ancients wave their flags, And banners fly with many-colored legends broider door. To us fruity August, when the days be dry, And series heaps the peasants threshing floor. August, when Saul Astrias mentioned Reyneth, And the sweet must of Grape's laïes traineth. Sudden, Castileus trumped the signal gave, Horribly fearful, sounding temerous dread, Heard at the hill Artabras, And his wave Guadiana rolled backwards as he fled. Or Dodu, entranced again lands it drave, Taga's sore agitated seward sped, While mothers trembling at the terrible storm, Embraced with tighter arm each time in form. How many faces there one walks in white, Whose fainting hearts the friendly lifeblood cheered, For in dire danger fear hath more of might, The fear of danger than the danger feared. If not, it seemeth so, When rage of fight meant spry to quell or kill the foe hath stirred, It makes him all unheed how high the costs were loss of limb, Or dear life freshly lost. Battles in certain work begins, And move right wings on either part to take the plane, These fighting to defend the land they love, Those aged on by hope that land to gain. Sun Grey Pereira, who would foremost prove the nightly valour of his noble strain, Charges in shocks and strews the field till sown With those who covet what is not their own. Now, in the dust-blurred air with strident sound, Bolts, arrows, darts, and manifold missiles fly, Beneath the disastrous horny hoof the ground quakeeth in terror, And the dales reply. Shiver the lenses, tundreth around the frequent crash of felid armory, Falls on the little force redoubling fall of Nuno's fears, Who makes great numbers small. See, there his brethren meet him in the fray, Fierce chants and cruel case, but dreads he not, Right little were it brother foe to slay, Who against king and country traitors fought. Amid these renegades not a few that day War in the foremost squadrons fury fraught, Against their brethren and their kin, Sad fate, as in great gilius warfare with the great. O thou sartorius, O great Coriolene, Catiline, all ye hosts of bygone age, Who gains your fatherland with hearts profane, Rage it with ravening parricidal rage. If were Sumana's hosts his dismal reign, Most dreadful torments must your sin assuage, Tell him that in our Portugal sometimes Suckled some traitors guilty of your crimes. Here doth the foremost of our lines give way, So many foemen have its force oppressed, There standeth Nuno, brave as lion at bay, Where afric sata rears her hilly crest, Who sees the circling troop of cavalry, Or the tytoon plain to chase adressed, And raging as they couch the deadly spear, Seems somewhat stirred, but hides all craven fear. With side-long glance his sights them, But his spleen furrient forbids the king of beasts To show a craven back, May rather on the screen of plumping lenses Lipsy as they grow. So stands our knight, who stains and soils The green with alien gore streams, On that field lie low some of his own, How wherewith valor dowered, Hearts lose their virtue, by such us or powered. John felt the danger and the duty of front of Nuno, Straight like captain wise and where he rushed afield, Viewed all, and in the brunt with words and works Taught man fresh deeds to dare. As nursing lioness, fear and fears of front, Who, left for chase her well-secured lair, Findeth, while foraging for their wanted food, Massilian high and hath there to rob her brood, Runs frantic raging, while her roar and moan Make the seven brother mountains shake and rave, So John, with other chosen troop hath flown Forward his dexter wing to enforce and save. O strong companions, souls of high renown, Cavaliers braver than what men hold brave, Strike for your country, now all earthly chants, All hope of liberty is on your lands. Behold me here, your comrade and your king, Whom it despairs and harness, bolt and bow, For most I charge, and first myself I fling, Smite, yet true Portuguese, deal yet one blow, Thus spake that great-sold warrior, Brandishing four times his lands before the final throw, And thirsting forceful by that single thrust, Lancet such wounds that many bite the dust. For see, his soldiers brand with order new, Honored repentance, honorable fire, Who shall display most courage, stat and true, And there the dangers dealt by Mars, his ire, contend. The steel that catcheth flamey hue, aims first at plate, Then at the breast aims higher, thus wounds they give, And wounds they take again, and dealing death, In death they feel no pain. Many are sent to side the Stygian wave, Into whose bodies entered iron death. Here dyeth Santiago's master brave, Who fought with fiercest spry till latest breath. Another master dyer of Calatrave, Horrid in cruel havoc perished, Iq da pereiras fowly renegade, Die, God denying, and denouncing fate. Of the vile, nameless, vulgar, many bled, Flitting with gentles through the gulf profound, Where hungers, ravning with eternal greed, For passing human shades the three had hound, And humbling more than haughty, arrogant greed, And better taming enemies' furibund, Castile's gonfanon sublime must fall, Beneath the forceful foot of Portugal. Here wildest battle hath its cruelest will, With deaths and shouts and slash and gory shower, The multitudinous braves were killed and killed, Robbed of their proper hues to bloom and flower. At length they fly, they die, In a waxeth still, war's note, While lands and spear have lost their power. Castile's king, the fate of pride must own, Seeing his purpose changed, his host or throne. The field he liveth to the conqueror, Too glad his life had not been left in fight. Follow him, all who can, And panic soar, lends them not feet, But feathered wings for flight. Their breasts are fillet with a wild war, For deaths, for treasure-wasting wanton plight, For woe, disgust, and foul dishonor soil, To see the victure reveling in their spoil. Some fly with furious curses and blaspheme, Him who the world with warfare made accursed, Others that cov'd his breast all culpable deem, For greed and quickened by his selfish thirst, That alien wealth to win with sore extreme, He plunged his hapless folk and woes the worst, Leaving so many wives and mothers, Lorn of sons and spouses, evermore to mourn. Camped are conquering John the custom days, On fought and filled in glory of the brave. Then with vowed pilgrimage, Gift, prayer, and praise, He gave him graces, who such victory gave. But Nuno, willing not by peaceful ways, On human memory his name to grave, But by his sovereign feats of war, Commends his men pass over to transthagon lands. His gallant project favoured destiny, Making effect commensurate with cause, The lands that bordered by the vandals lie, Yielding their treasures bow before his laws. Now batik banners, which civil were fly, And flags of various princes, without pause, All trail foot trampled, not their force availeth, What ere the forceful porting all assaileth. By these and other victories oppressed, Cassilius legious long deplore their woes, When peace by all desired and gentle rest, To grant their vanquished foam the victors chose, Then seemed it good to his almighty hast, That the contending sovereign should espouse, Two royal damsels born of English race, Princesses feigned for honor, form, and grace. Nils the brave bosom used to bloody broil, The lack of foemen who his force shall drear, And thus earth-holding none to slay and spoil, He carries conquests o'er the unconquered sea. First of our kings is he who left the soil patriel, Teaching Efric's painimary, by dint of arms, How much, in word indeed, The laws of Christ-Mephaman's laws exceed. See, thousands swimming, birds the silvery plain, Of fettish cleave, and spurn her fume and fret, With bellied wings to seize the wind they strain, Where his extremists meet, Alsidus said. Mount Abila, and died with tyrant feign Seta, They seize, ignoble Muhammad they oust, And thus our general Spain secure, From jillion craft, disloyal, and impure. Death granted not to Portugal's desire, Hero so happy long should wear the crown, But soon the angelic host in heavenly choir, A home in highest heaven made his own. Toward his Lucia, and to raise her higher, He who withdrew him left a goodly boom, Building our country on her broadest base, Of noble infants a right royal race. No way so happy was Duarte's fate, What, while he rose the royal rank to fill, Thus, troublest time doth ever alternate, Pleasure with pain, and temper good with ill. What men hath liveth through life in joyous state, Who firmness finds in fortunes fickle will, Yet to this kingdom and this king she dain, Spare the vicissitudes her laws ordained. Captive he saw his brother, Hyde Fernand, The saint aspiring high with purpose grave, Who, as a hostage in the Saracen hand, Betrayed himself his Ligard host to save. He lived for purest faith to fatherland, The life of noble ladies sold as slave, Last bought with price of satan's potent town, To public welfare be preferred his own. Codres, last foe man conquer, Freely chose to yield his life, And conquer himself to die. Regulus, last his land in auction lose, Lost for all time all hopes of liberty. This, that his spania might in peace repose, Chose lifelong thrall, eternal captivity. Codres, nor courteous with men's offer mead, Nor loyal desiae ever dared such deed. Afonso, now his kingdom's only heir, A name of victory on our spanish strand, Who, the hot fierceness of the moors frontier, To lowest misery tamed with mighty hand, Party had been a peerless cavalier, Had he not lusted after ebroland, But still shall afric say to her hopeless feat, On battle plain such terrible king to beat. This could pluck golden apples from the bow, Which only he in tyrants born could plug, He yoke the salvage moor, And even now the salvage moorman's knack, Must bear his yoke. Still palms and greenie bays beguird his brow, One from the barbarous raging hosts that flock, Alcaces forted town with arms to guard, Tangered the populace and arzill the hard. All these, by gallant deeds and fine, Were gained, and low lay every diamond in wall, Announced the portingals, now taught and trained To throw the power that lists to try a fall, Such extreme marvels by strong arms attained, Right worthy eloquence, scripture one and all, The gallant cavaliers whose jests of glory Added a luster toward Lusian's story. But soon, ambition matted, Golded on by passion of dominion bitter sweet, He falls on furtinent of Aragon, Castile's hot kingdom hoping to defeat. The swarming hostile crowds, their armor dawn, The proud and various races troop and meet, From Kade's fast to towering Pyrenee, Who bowed to furtinent the knack and knee. Scorned an idler in the realm to rest, The youthful John, who taketh early heed To aid his greedy father with his best, And soothed came Vedon's at the hour of need, Ishered from bloody battles terrible test, With brow unmoved, serene in words indeed, Moger defeat, the sire, that men of blood, While Twix the rival's victory doubtful stood. For that a valiant princely vain his son, A gentle stalwart, right magnanimous king, Went to the ponents he such harm had done, One whole day camped on the field of fight. Thus from Octavian was the victory won, While Anthony his mate was victor hide, When they the murderers who the Caesar slew Upon Philippe filled the deed made rule. But as through gathered shades of night it turned, Afon suspad to realms of endless joy, The prince who rose to rule a realm in turn, Was John the Second and the Thirteenth Roy. This never-dying glory's me to earn, Higher than ventured mortal men to fly ventured, Who sought those bounds of ruddy mourn, Which I go seeking this my voyage born. Envoy's commissioned he, Who, passing o'er Hispania, Goal, and honoured Italy, Took ship in haven of the lustrous shore, Where earthed in humed lay Parthenope. Naples, whose destiny was the creed of yore, The various stranger slave enthralled to be, And rise in honour when her years of foe By sovereign Hispania's noble rule. They cleave the bright blue waves of succulent deeps, By sandy marge of Roto's Isle they go, And thence the barbed-way where the cliff's steeps Are still in fame for magnus here lain low, To Memphis when they, and the land that reaps Crops which fat nilus flood doth overflow, And climbed yon Egypt to those Ethiop heights, Where men conserved Christ's high and holy rites. And eek they pass the waters Erythrian, Where past the shipless peoples is relight, Remain arrear the range Nabathian, Which by the name of Ishmael seed are hide. Those audiferous incense-coasts Sabian, Dainty Adonis mother's dear delight, They round, and all of happy Arabianon, Leaving the waste of sand and rain of stone. They push, where still preserved, Persec straight, confused at Babel's darkling memory. There where the tiger blended with her freight, Which from their head-streams hold their head so high. Thence fair they his pure stream to find, Whose fate will be to deal such length of history. Indus, and cross that breath of ocean-bed, Where daring Trajan never dared dread. Strange tribes they saw, and through wild peoples' pasts, Jadrosian and Carmanian end of end, Seeing the various custom, various case, Which every region beareth in her kind. But from such asperous ways, such voyage vast, Men find not facile safe return to find, In fine there die they, and to natal shore, To home, sweet home, return they never more. Reserved, Miss Simith, Heaven's clear-sighting will, For Manuel, worthy of such goodly need, This arduous task, and stirred him onward still To stirring action and illustrious deed. Manuel, who rose the throne of John to fill, And to his high resolves did he succeed, Forthwith, when taken of his realm the charge, Took up the conquest of the ocean-large. The same as when obliged by a noble thought, The debt of honor left as heritance, By predecessors, who in life ae fought Their own dear land's best interest to advance, Nerefore a moment faded of his fraught, Obligement at what art day's radiance pales, And the knitted stars on high that rise, With falling horses, womb, and sleep-worn eyes, Already being on bed of gold reclining, Where fancy worketh with prophetic strain, Revolving matters in his restless mind, The bounden duties of his race and reign, Sleep, soft restorer, comes his eye into bine, While thought and memory both unbound remain, For, as his weary lid, sweet slumber sealeth, Morpheus, in varied forms himself, revealeth. Here seems the king so high to soar away, That touched his head the nearest primal sphere, Where worlds of vision need his glances laid, Nations of vasty numbers, strange in fear, And there, right near the birthplace of the day, Unto his outstretched eye and began appear, From distant, olden, cloud-compelling mountains, Flowing, a twain of high, deep, limpid fountains, Birds of the feral kind and kind and flocks, Boat in the shadows of the shaggy wood, A thousand herbs and trees with gnarled stalks, Barring the paths of passing mortals stood, Adverse had ever been those mountain rocks, To human interquers, and clearly showed, Never since Adam sinned against our days, Break foot of men, this breath of bosky maze. From out the fountains seemed he to behold, For him inquining, with long hasties tried, Two men, who show it old and very old, Of aspect rustic yet with lordly pride, Adound their twisted, pointed, locked, slow-rolled gout, Switch their bodies bathed on every side, The skin of early texture, dark and dull, The beard her suit, unshorn, but long and full. These hoary fathers round their foreheads bore Tree-bows, with unknown shrub and herb entwined, And won a worn and wearied aspect war, As though from regions lying far behind, And thus his waters, which did slow or poor, Seemed the down the further side to wind, In thus Alpheus from Arcadia fled, To Syracuse and Erythrus' bed. This, who with graver gate and gesture came, Thus from a distance to the monarch cryeth, O thou, whose scepter and whose crown shall claim Of earth-mighty part that guarded lieth, We twain, who fly through mouths of men by fame, We, whose untamed knack men's yoke defyeth, Warn thee, O king, to stime to send commends, And raise large tribute from our natal lands. Illustrious Genji, am I, whose farthest Fount in realm celestial heavenly heights I trace, Any onstance in this, king, who, on the mount, Which thou regardest, hath of birth his place, Thou shalt hard warfare wage on our account, But still insisting every fear to face, With nourishing conquests and some soil or stain, The tribes thou viewest, thou shalt curb and reign. No more that holy noble river said, Both in a moment fade and disappear, Awakeeth Manuel in novel dread, And big or charged thoughts he bred of fear. Meanwhile his glittering mental febas spread, Upon the somber somnolent hemisphere, Dawn comes and o'er the gloomy welking showers, Blushing of modest rose and fiery flowers. The king in council calls his lords to meet, And of the vision figures, noose, and parts, The holy elders' words he doth repeat, Which with a mighty marvel heaves their hearts. All straight resolve to equip a sturdy fleet, That men, well-skilled in navigator arts, Should cut the stubborn mane and forth should fare, In search of novel climbs and novel air. I, who right little deemed, Fursoth to find myself attaining hopes my stride desired, Yet mighty matters of such cunning kind, My heart presaging promised and inspired, In now cannot or how or why designed, Or for what happy chants in me admired, That famous monarch chose me, Gave to me of this grave gracious enterprise the key, And with fair offer couched in courteous phrase, Lordly command of blidging more than loss, He said, in exploits due and daring ways, Who who most perils win the most applause, Risk life in famous men with highest praise, Or lost in honors, not in honors cause, And when to blighting fear it never bends, Short it may be, yet more its length extends. Thee from a chosen host have chosen I, The dangers claimed by thee to undergo, To his heavy travail, hard, heroic, high, Which love of me shall lighten while I throw. I could not suffer more, great king, I cried, To face the still quiet host, sword, lens, fire, snow, For thee were things so slight, My solenoid is to see trivial life so vain a toy. Imagine every wildest adventure, Such as Eurystheus for El Cidus' plan, Cleonis Lyon, Harpy's foul endure, And boar of erymyth and hydra bend, In fine to seek those empty shades obscure, Where stick surrounds of this did dire that land, The greatest danger and the deadliest brunt, For thee, O king, this soul, this flesh would front. His thanks and costly gifts amoe bestows the king, Whose reason, lords, my ready will, For valor, fad, and praises, lives and grows, Praise is the noble spirit's spur and spell. At once to share my fortune's dooth propose, Whom friendship and fraternal love compel, Nor less resolve to win him name and fame, A dear trusty brother named Paul da Gama, Ick Nicholas Squelio volunteers, Trained to toil some tasks and sufferings long, Both are in valor and in counsel peers, In arms experienced and in battle strong, Now choicest hand in youth-tide's generous years, Lusting from bravery's mead around me throng, Tauti, high-metal, as dof best become, Adventurous manhood that would tempt such doom. All these by Manuel's hand remunerate were, That love through duty might the more increase, And with high words each heart was fired to bear, Adventures per adventure some surcedes. Thus did Dominia, for their feet prepare, To gain the glories of the golden fleece, Oraculous Argoship that there the first, Through elxine waves her ventures wade to burst. Now, in famed Ulysses, Haven mend, With raptures worthy of the great design, Where his sweet liquor and his snowy sand, Artaga's blendeth with Neptunian brine, Ride the ships ready, hear my strong young band, By fear unbridled glad in labor join. For those of Mars and Neptune, one and all, The world would wonder, did I only call. Fast by the foreshore comes the soldiery, In various colors pranked with various art, Nor less enforced by inner force are they, To seek and see earth's unexplored part. Round the good navy gentle breezes play, And blightly waves each airy astondard, They swear, far gazing on the breath of brine, Mid-star's Olympic argolite to shine. When all prepared according to the sword, With what of one such lengthy way demanded, Our souls would then prepare for death's discord, Who before seamen's eye forever standeth, To the most highest, throned in heaven's court, Which he sustains, who's glanced his globe commandeth, That he, our guardian guide, his aidens land, We pray, and see our inceptuits end. Thus we departed from the saintly shrine, Built on the margin of the briny wave, Named for all memory from the land divine, Where God incarnate came the world to save. King, I assure thee, when this mind of mine, Remembereth how to us ours those shores to leave, Filled are my sprite and heart with doubts and fears, And eyes can hardly stay their trickling tears. The city people on that saddest day, These for their bosom friends and those for kin, And others but spectators, throng the way, Sad and down-hearted at the dreary scene, We, winding through the virtuous array, A thousand monson priests of Revenin, Praying, and solemn paging to the Lord, A foot set forth the ready barks to board. On such long dubious courses sent a steer, Us deemed the people denizens of the tomb, The wailing women shed a piteous tear, And sadly sighed the men to sigh at our doom. Wives, sisters, mothers, Most their hearts must fear whose love is foremost, Added to the gloom the spare, And shuddered with a freezing fright, Last week their loved ones a be lost to sight. This following saith, O son, I ever held cold of my sorrows and the sweet relief Of mine already weary wayward held, So soon to sink in glooms of need and grief. Why leave me thus to want and woe compelled? Why fly, my love, fun child, Those days so brief shall set in darkness, And in briny grave shall feed the fishes of the greedy wave? That, with loose locks, O dowse and dearest spouse, Lacking whose love, love will if not I live, Why risk, when daring oceans wrath to rouse, Thy life, my life, which is not thine to give? How canst forget our fond fair marriage vows? Why face the waves a homeless fugitive? Our love, our vain content shall not avail, Thrown to the breezes as they blow the sail. With such and similar words that spake the tongue Of love and human nature's yearning woe, Followed our seaward path both old and young, Lives to extremes by time made weak and slow. Sad echo waileth the near worlds among, As though hard hills remove at grief to show, And tears the snowy shore such wise bedued, Drops rivalled sands in equal multitude. Of us, the company, near raising eye on why for mother, Marched in such a state, We feared our hearts fall faint, And feign we fly our fixed results, Repenting all too late. Thus I determined straight aboard to high, Some fairly wells by custom consecrate, Which, though they be dear love's own lovely way, Redouble grief to those who go or stay. But now an aged sire of reverent mean, Upon the foreshore throng it by the crowd, With iron fast fixed upon our forms was seen, And discontented thrice his brow he bowed, His deep-toned accents raising somewhat keen, That we from shipward hear him speak of out, With lore by long experience only grown, Thus from his time taught breast he made his morn. O craving of command, O vain desire, Of vainest vanity man miscaled fame, O fraudulent gusts so easy fend to fire, By breath of vulgar, aping honor's name, What just and dreadful judgment deals thine ire, To silly souls who overlove thy claim, What deaths, what direful risks, what agonies, Wherewith thou girdness them thy fitting prize, Thou, dar-disturber of men's sprightened life, Found of backsliding and adultery, Sagacious waster and consummate thief, Of subjects, kingdoms, treasure, empry, They hail thee noble, and they hail thee chief, Though dine of all indignities thou be, They call thee fame and glorious sovereign, Words, words, the heart of silly herd to gain, What new disaster doth thou hear design, What horror for a realm and race invent, What unheard dangers, or what deaths can dine, Veiled by some name that soundeth excellent, What bribe of gorgeous rain and golden mine, Whose ready offer is so rarely meant, What fame has promised them, what pride of story, What palms, what triumphs, what victorious glory, But, oh, race gendered by his sin insane, Whom disobedience of the high command, Not only chased it from the heavenly rain, And doomed to distant and exiled land, But, Eek, from other state too blessed for men, Were peace with innocence fared hand in hand, That olden golden age his victims hurled, Into an iron and an armoured world. Since by this gustful vanity let us stray, Lighter thou makest men's light fantasy, Since his brute fierceness and his lust of prey, Bear honoured names of strength and valiancy, Since thou wilt prize and prize in wildest way, The spisel of men's life, Which, a, should be esteemed of mortals, Nay, held doubly dear, when he who gave it gave it up with fear. Neighbours do not, the hateful Ishmaelite, With whom abundant strife shall ever hold, Follows he not the Arabian slown right, And thou wouldst fight to fill of Christ the fold. A thousand cities, regions infinite, Are they not his and covetous earth and gold? Is he not strong in warfare, high in name? If honour be not greed of gain thy name? Thus leave the foment breeding at thy gate, Who wentest far and far a phone to seek, Whereby this antique realm lies desolate, Whose strength or stretch it walks at ruinous week. Sickest thou dark and dubious chance of fate, Who hears fame with hunted accent speak, Lauding thy lot and hailing thee, Senor of Ind, Perse, Arab, and Ethiopia shore? O curse the mortal, who the first was found, Teaching the tree to wear the flowing sheet, Worthy the eternal pains of the profound, If just that justice law I hold and greet. Nermay meant judgment lofty and renowned, Nor genius rare nor harp, sonner's sweet, Required such gift with memory, honour, fame, Parish thy glory, perish in thy name. Yopitas, daring son from heaven brought, The fire he added human breast to bless, Fire that inflamed towards a world distraught, With death and ictus grace, ha, sad distress. How better far for us and ours had wrought Prometheus, And with loss of life the less, Had thy feigned statue never felt the fire Of great designs that gendered great desire. Nair had the stripling miserably brave, Tempted his sire's high car, nor empty air, The mighty mason and his boy who gave Names which the seagulls and the river bear. No fearsome prize and fell by land and wave, Through fire, steel, water, wind, frost, heat to fare, Wearing the human race loves not to range, Soreful sword, conditioned, strange as strange, Strange as strange, end of Compto 4.