Walk'd forth; and now the sun's resplendent rays,
Yet half emerging o'er the waters, blaze,
When to the fleet the Moorish oars again
Dash the curl'd waves, and waft the guileful train:
The lofty decks they mount. With joy elate,
Their friendly welcome at the palace-gate,
The king's sincerity, the people's care,
And treasures of the coast the spies declare:
Nor past untold what most their joys inspired,
What most to hear the valiant chief desired,
That their glad eyes had seen the rites divine,
Their country's worship, and the sacred shrine.
The pleasing tale the joyful GAMA hears;
Dark fraud no more his gen’rous bosom fears:
As friends sincere, himself sincere, he gives
The hand of welcome, and the Moors receives.
And now, as conscious of the destin'd prey,
The faithless race, with smiles and gestures gay,
Their skiffs forsaking, GAMA's ships ascend,
And deep to strike the treacherous blow attend.
On shore the truthless monarch arms his bands,
And for the fleet's approach impatient stands:
That soon as anchor'd in the port they rode
Brave GAMA's decks might reek with Lusian blood:
Thus weening to revenge Mozambic’s fate,
And give full surfeit to the Moorish hate;
And now, their bowsprits bending to the bay
The joyful crew the ponderous anchors weigh,
Page:The Lusiad (Camões, tr. Mickle, 1791), Volume 1.djvu/445
