4. INTRODUCTION OF THE ITALIAN STYLE.—The poet who first introduced the Italian style into Portuguese poetry was so successful in seizing the delicate tone by which the blending of the two was to be effected that the innovation was accomplished without a struggle. Saa de Miranda (1495-1558) was one of the most pleasing and accomplished men of his age. He traveled extensively, and on his return was attached to the court of Lisbon. It is related of him that he would often sit silent and abstracted in company, and that tears, of which no one knew the cause, would flow from his eyes, while he seemed unconscious of the circumstance, and indifferent to the observation he was thus attracting. These emotions were of course attributed to poetic thought and romantic attachments. He insisted on marrying a lady who was neither young nor handsome, and whom he had never seen, having been captivated by her reputation for amiability and discretion. He became so attached to her, that when she died he renounced all his previous pursuits and purposes in life, remained inconsolable, and soon followed her to the grave. Miranda is chiefly celebrated for his lyric and pastoral poetry.
Montemayor was a contemporary of Miranda, and a native of Portugal, but he declined holding any literary position in his own country. The pastoral romance of "Diana," written in the Castilian language, is his most celebrated work. It was received with great favor, and extensively imitated. With many faults, it possesses a high degree of poetic merit, and is entitled to the esteem of all ages.
Ferreira (1528-1569) has been called the Horace of Portugal. His works are correct and elegant, but they are wanting in those higher efforts of genius which strike the imagination and fire the spirit. The glory, advancement, and civilization of his country were his darling themes, and it was this enthusiasm of patriotism that made him great. In his tragedy of Inez de Castro, Ferreira raised himself far above his Italian contemporaries. Many similar writers shed a lustre on this, the brightest and indeed the only brilliant period of Portuguese literature; but they are all more remarkable for taste and elegance than for richness of invention.
5. EPIC POETRY.—The chief and only boast of his country, the sole poet whose celebrity has extended beyond the peninsula, and whose name appears in the list of those who have conferred honor upon Europe, is Luis de Camoëns (1524-1579). He was descended from a noble, but by no means a wealthy family. After having completed his studies at the university, he conceived a passion for a lady of the court, so violent that for some time he renounced all literary and worldly pursuits. He entered the military service, and in an engagement before Ceuta, in which he greatly distinguished himself, he lost an eye. Neglected and contemned by his country, he embarked for the East Indies. After various vicissitudes there, he wrote a bitter satire on the government, which occasioned his banishment to the island of Macao, where he remained for five years, and where he completed the great work which was to hand down his name to posterity. There is still to be seen, on the most elevated point of the isthmus which unites the town of Macao to the Chinese continent, a sort of natural gallery formed out of the rocks, apparently almost suspended in the air, and commanding a magnificent prospect over both seas, and the lofty chain of mountains which rises above their shores. Here he is said to have invoked the genius of the epic muse, and tradition has conferred on this retreat the name of the Grotto of Camoëns.
On his return to Goa, Camoëns was shipwrecked, and of all his little property, he succeeded only in saving the manuscript of the Lusiad, which he bore in one hand above the water, while swimming to the shore. Soon after reaching Goa, he was thrown into prison upon some unjust accusation, and suffered for a long time to linger there. At length released, he took passage for his native country, which he reached after an absence of sixteen years. Portugal was at this time ravaged by the plague, and in the universal sorrow and alarm, the poet and his great work were alike neglected. The king at length consented to accept the dedication of this poem, and made to the author the wretched return of a pension, amounting to about twenty-five dollars. Camoëns was not unfrequently in actual want of bread, for which he was in part indebted to a black servant who had accompanied him from India, and who was in the habit of stealing out at night to beg in the streets for what might support his master during the following day. But more aggravated evils were in store for the unfortunate poet. The young king perished in the disastrous expedition against Morocco, and with him expired the royal house of Portugal. The independence of the nation was lost, her glory eclipsed, and the future pregnant with calamity and disgrace. Camoëns, who had so nobly supported his own misfortunes, sank under those of his country. He was seized with a violent fever, and expired in a public hospital without having a shroud to cover his remains.
The poem on which the reputation of Camoëns depends, is entitled "Os Lusiadas;" that is, the Lusitanians (or Portuguese), and its design is to present a poetic and epic grouping of all the great and interesting events in the annals of Portugal. The discovery of the passage to India, the most brilliant point in Portuguese history, was selected as the groundwork of the epic unity of the poem. But with this, and the Portuguese conquests in India, the author combined all the illustrious actions performed by his countrymen in other quarters of the world, and whatever of splendid and heroic achievement history or tradition could supply. Vasco da Gama has been represented as the hero of the work, and those portions not immediately connected with his expedition, as episodes. But there is, in truth, no other leading subject than the country, and no episodes except such parts as are not immediately connected with her glory. Camoëns was familiar with the works of his Italian contemporaries, but the circumstance that essentially distinguishes him from them, and which forms the everlasting monument of his own and his country's glory, is the national love and pride breathing through the whole work. His patriotic spirit, devoting a whole life to raise a monument worthy of his country, seems never to have indulged a thought which was not true to the glory of an ungrateful nation.
The Greek mythology forms the epic machinery of the Lusiad. Vasco da Gama, having doubled the Cape of Good Hope, is steering along the western coast of Africa, when the gods assemble on Mount Olympus to deliberate on the fate of India. Venus and Bacchus form two parties; the former in favor, the latter opposed to the Portuguese. The poet thus gratified his national pride, as Portugal was eminently the land of love, and moderation in the use of wine was one of its highest virtues. Bacchus lays many snares to entrap and ruin the adventurers, who are warned and protected by Venus. He visits the palace of the gods of the sea, who consent to let loose the Winds and Waves upon the daring adventurers, but she summons her nymphs, and adorning themselves with garlands of the sweetest flowers, they subdue the boisterous Winds, who, charmed by the blandishments of love, become calm. Vasco is hospitably received by the African king of Melinda, to whom he relates the most interesting parts of the history of his native country. On the homeward voyage, Venus prepares a magic festival for the adventurers, on an enchanted island, and the goddess Thetis becomes the bride of the admiral. Here the poet finds the opportunity to complete the narrative of his country's history, and a prophetic nymph is brought forward to describe the future achievements of the nation from that period to the time of Camoëns.
The Lusiad is one of the noblest monuments ever raised to the national glory of any people, and it is difficult to conceive how so grand and beautiful a whole could be formed on a plan so trivial and irregular. The plan has been compared to a scaffolding surrounded and concealed by a majestic building, serving to connect its parts, but having no share in producing the unity of the effect. One of the most affecting and beautiful of all the passages of the Lusiad, is the narrative of the tragical fate of Iñez de Castro, who, after her death, was proclaimed queen of Portugal, upon the accession of her lover to the throne.
In the poems of Camoëns we find examples of every species of composition practiced in his age and country. Some of them bear the impress of his personal character, and of his sad and agitated career. A wild tone of sorrow runs through them, which strikes the ear like wailings heard through the gloom of midnight and darkness. We know not by what calamity they were called forth, but it is the voice of grief, and it awakens an answering throb within the breast.
6. DRAMATIC POETRY.—The drama is quite a barren field in Portuguese literature. The stage of Lisbon has been occupied almost exclusively by the Italian opera and Spanish comedy. Only one poet of any name has written in the Portuguese spirit. This was Gil Vicente (1490-1556). He resided constantly at the court, and was employed in providing occasional pieces for its civil and religious festivities. It is probable that he was an actor, and it is certain that he educated for the stage his daughter, Paula, who was equally celebrated as an actress, a poetess, and a musician. The dramas of Vicente consist of autos, comedies, tragi- comedies, and farces. The autos, or religious pieces, were written chiefly to furnish entertainment for the court on Christmas night. The shepherds had naturally an important part assigned to them, and the whole was pervaded by the pastoral feeling which distinguishes them remarkably from the Spanish autos. But the best productions of this author are his farces, which approach much nearer to the style of true comedy than the plays published under that name.