The Pacific commercial advertiser. [volume] (Honolulu, Hawaiian Islands) 1856-1888, 1875-07-17


4 condition Of beggary and starvation Yet he
lived on amid tue selfshness Of corrupt aud profit
gate Lisbon, that eonld send forth its throngs OF
PEOPLE aud laYish its thousands of gold 10 honor
the gyrarions Of n dancer. whilst her immortal
pet was allowed n siekeu and waste away. Tor
want Of food.
Camoeus became reduced to absolute ~besgaty.
when failing health had confined him to has
chamber. He was long sustained. and saved
from the miserable death Of a tamished pauper by
the faithful devotion Of Lenang or Antonio the
Jayaneee servant who had helped to save hlm
from drowning in the Mecon. Antonio stood in
the gateways of the palace Of the beFoic Kings
John, Alfonso, Pedro, Emmanuel and Sebastian,
who arc made immortal in the lines OF the Lrsiad,
and be begged of their gorgeously arrayed de-
scendants who now thronged these gateways,a
few coppers 70 bur bread for the author OF the
glory and immortality Of their names. The
pleading Of the poor old grey headed Indian GER
Yapt, asking for cEusts for his dying master, the
savior Of the fame Of his country, was more pitt
ful than tie CRY of the famous old Roman Gen
eral,-who when old and blind begged I'D the gate
way Of the capital where nc had once triumphed,
and cried out, = Date obolum Belisari0 Give a
penny TO BeIisarius, Give a penny for Camoensi
Bread for Camoens. kind masters. oh, prIncely
Pachecho, he has made thy ancestors name most
glorious, Oh, line of Braganza. where would
ne your glory without his pen, And children of
Diaz, and de CANA, can you let the tunefnl
chronicler of your fathers fame sicken and die
for the want of mere base and pltitul food? Oh,
a penny for Camoens But the courtly robes
were held up, so az not to he defled By the touch
of the aged beggar in the WAY; aud the lordly
train passed on, led by the malignant scowl Of
the Cardinal King who hated Camoens.
Alas it is too true, Portuguese historians have
TO tell US with shame and Humiliation, that their
most illustrious poet begged for bread in the
chief city Of the country, made famous by hIs
genius. He who was 10 be a nation chief pride
lay on Il pallet and hungered. The writer of the
tenderest sensibilities was the most bitterly suf-
feriDg man. The largest hearted patriot was
denied food in his own land. And one of the
most princely natures, the representative of am
heroic age. was allowed TO rot and die in squalor.
Camoens was stripped and brought down to the
dirt like job; and yet, he like the man of u
maintained bis integrity before God and men,
and his hope in a Redeemer that lived always for
him. He was tempted by venal mobiles to sell his
independence in his last days, and to prostitute
his pen to prohigate purposes, for the lucre that
would have lifted him up from his bed of wretch
edness, and have placed him with the favored in
gilded saloons. But the suffering man said
90 Ny pen has been devoted to my God, my love,
and my country, and it knows no other themes"
Nor would it try to know any other. The noble
soul, in its decline. still wrote and spoke for
truth and virtue triumphantly. He lifted up his
voice like the heroic Christian that he was, dur
ing the last bitter, shameful struggles and thus
admonished his King, ia his last lines
L. all the lays beneath thy .oy,rstgn sway
And those, thou closest to inform the throne,
should virtue in their office ever own;
20 with the good thou only dost advise,
Thou must advance in all kingly cmprisc. ~
And his heart lost none of its heat and glow Of
love, even when shaded by the wing of the angel
Of death. And though wasting disease had
reduced a noble frame to the last gasp of dissolu-
ton, yet did the passionate and faithful soul, as
it passed away, give utterance to tender reminis-
cences of his Caterina, whom surely he joined in
a happier sphere.
REPENTANCE THAT CONES TOO LATE.
When Camoens died he had not a sheet to
cover his remains. Such was the pitiable end of
a man of genius, whose name and fame were to
live forever in the hearts of his countrymen.
The sisters of the Convent of st. Ann took charge
OF the corpse OF the unhappy poet, and gave it
decent sepulture. But hardly had the sad,
wasted remains been consigned to a pit, where the
bodies of the poor were hid away, when the
thoughtless Portuguese Of the capital were aroused
to some sensibility. and to some sense of their
great loss on hearing of the death of the sweet
sonnet singer, and author of Lusitania's tri-
umphant epic. They thronged with some parade
of woe around the humble grave. They wept
over the dead poet, as many repeated his beauti-
full and patriotic lines. They clamored ~peniten-
TALLY, when too late, that they might hear the
voice of their prince of pOesy and patriotism once
more. They lameuted over the clay of their
crucified genius. Then they tenderly removed
the colo form, that needed only q penny when
alive to warm 1T, aud removed the senseless
Wondering flesh with a pitiful pomp to conse-
Grated ground. And there they reared above it
a sculptured tomb upon which was inscribed this
simple and truthful epitaph:
HERE LIES LUIS DE CAMoENs.
NE ExcELLED ALL THE POETS OF HIS TINE.
HF LIVED POOR AID MISERABLE,
AND He DIED so.
90
oh, mockery of grief that is poured out upon a
cold tone,-rather than on q warm loving breast
Pass by, and waste not your tardy tears upon the
unresponsiye dirt! The beating heart was the
soil that you should have watered! Oh, cold and
natures, that wake TO kindlier memories,
when the heart that would have b,ed for them, is
and cold Oh, selfshness that will not
yield a erumb of comfort to one that gave all,
and was content to win only a kindly smile! Oh,
hardness and thoughtlessness, that passes by the
agony of a living soul, and stays to weep over a
s~enseless clod! But away with your barren
The sun of love, that shone only for
you, has set and you shall not reillume it's rays
with the belated warmth of your emotion. Let
the poor molderiDg residue of earth lie unmo-
Tested, where it was struck down. Your shaft of
aspiring marble shall not lift it up;-for its
spirit has already gone above, to the realm of
everlasting love, into the bosom of a compassionate
God.
s. Concluding lines of the tenth canto of the Lusiad, trans
by the writer.
9. The tomb aud the remains Of Camoens were engulfed in a
chasm that opened during the great earthQuake Of Lisbon.