im of his domain, while Venus and Mars
implore Jupiter to favor the Lusitanians, whom they consider
descendants of the Romans. The king of the gods is so ready to grant
this prayer, that he immediately despatches Mercury to guide the
voyagers safely to Madagascar. Here the Portuguese, mistaken for Moors
on account of their swarthy complexions, are at first made welcome.
But when the islanders discover the strangers are Christians, they
determine to annihilate them if possible. So, instigated by one of
their priests,--Bacchus in disguise,--the islanders attack the
Portuguese when they next land to get water. Seeing his men in danger,
Da Gama discharges his artillery, and the terrified natives fall upon
their knees and not only beg for mercy, but offer to provide him with
a pilot capable of guiding him safely to India.

This offer is accepted by Da Gama, who does not suspect this pilot has
instructions to take him to Quiloa, where all Christians are slain. To
delude the unsuspecting Portuguese navigator into that port, the pilot
avers the Quiloans are Christians; but all his evil plans miscarry,
thanks to the interference of Mars and Venus, who by contrary winds
hinder the vessels from entering this port.

_Book II._ The traitor pilot now steers toward Mombaca, where
meanwhile Bacchus has been plotting to secure the death of the
Portuguese. But here Venus and her nymphs block the entrance of the
harbor with huge rocks, and the pilot, realizing the Christians are
receiving supernatural aid, jumps overboard and is drowned!

Venus, having thus twice rescued her proteges from imminent death, now
visits Olympus, and by the exercise of all her conquettish wiles
obtains from Jupiter a promise to favor the Portuguese. In accordance
with this pledge, Mercury himself is despatched to guide the fleet
safely to Melinda, whose harbor the Portuguese finally enter, decked
with flags and accompanied by triumphant music.

Now Gama's bands the quiv'ring trumpet blow,
Thick o'er the wave the crowding barges row,
The Moorish flags the curling waters sweep,
The Lusian mortars thunder o'er the deep;
Again the fiery roar heaven's concave tears,
The Moors astonished stop their wounded ears;
Again loud thunders rattle o'er the bay,
And clouds of smoke wide-rolling blot the day;
The captain's barge the gen'rous king ascends,
His arms the chief enfold, the captain bends
(A rev'rence to the scepter'd grandeur due):
In