Luis Vaz de Camões (1572), Cantos IV.95–97
Ó glória de mandar! Ó vã cobiça
Desta vaidade, a quem chamamos Fama!
Ó fraudulento gosto, que se atiça
C’uma aura popular, que honra se chama!
Que castigo tamanho e que justiça
Fazes no peito vão que muito te ama!
Que mortes, que perigos, que tormentas,
Que crueldades neles experimentas!
Dura inquietação d’alma e da vida,
Fonte de desamparos e adultérios,
Sagaz consumidora conhecida
De fazendas, de reinos e de impérios:
Chamam-te ilustre, chamam-te subida,
Sendo dina de infames vitupérios;
Chamam-te Fama e Glória soberana,
Nomes com quem se o povo néscio engana!
A que novos desastres determinas
De levar estes reinos e esta gente?
Que perigos, que mortes lhe destinas
Debaixo dalgum nome preminente?
Que promessas de reinos, e de minas
D’ouro, que lhe farás tão facilmente?
Que famas lhe prometerás? que histórias?
Que triunfos, que palmas, que vitórias?
Richard Fanshawe (1655)
O Glory of commanding! O vain Thirst
Of that fame empty nothing, we call Fame!
O Ignis fatuus, kindled and nurst
With vulgar breath (and this we Honour name)!
What Plagues, what stings, what secret scourges curst,
Torment those Bosomes which thou doest inflame!
What deaths! what dangers! what impetuous forms!
What cruelties on them thy Hand performs!
Fell Tyrant of the soules! life’s swallowing Wave!
Mother of Plunders, and black Rapes unchast!
The secret miner, and the open Grave,
Of Patrimonies, Kingdoms, Empires vast!
They call thee noble, and they call thee Brave:
(Worthy t’have other names upon thee cast!)
They call thee Fame, and Glory soveraign:
Titles, with which the foolish Rout is tane.
What new disaster dire intendest Thou
To lead these Kingdoms, and these Folk into?
What deaths, what Horrors must they swallow now,
Under pretence to spread Religion true?
What holdings forth of golden Mines, and how
Great Kingdoms shall be conquer’d by a Few?
What Fames dost thou advance? what Histories?
What Palms? what Triumphs? and what Victories?
William Julius Mickle (1776)
O frantic thirst of honour and of fame,
The crowd’s blind tribute, a fallacious name;
What stings, what plagues, what secret scourges curs’d,
Torment those bosoms where thy pride is nurs’d!
What dangers threaten, and what deaths destroy
The hapless youth, whom thy vain gleams decoy!
By thee, dire tyrant of the noble mind,
What dreadful woes are pour’d on human kind:
Kingdoms and empires in confusion hurl’d,
What streams of gore have drench’d the hapless world!
Thou dazzling meteor, vain as fleeting air,
What new-dread horror dost thou now prepare!
High sounds thy voice of India’s pearly shore,
Of endless triumphs and of countless store:
Of other worlds so tower’d thy swelling boast,
Thy golden dreams when Paradise was lost,
When thy big promise steep’d the world in gore,
And simple innocence was known no more.
And say, has fame so dear, so dazzling charms?
Thomas Moore Musgrave (1826)
O thirst of pow’r-insatiate appetite
Of vain dominion, which the world calls Fame!
O pleasing phantom, which, inflam’d and fann’d
By popular applause, is Honor nam’d!
What just severity of punishment
Dost thou on thy immod’rate votary
Inflict! What perils, and what cruel deaths,
Are hazarded in thy blood-stain’d career!
Restless disturber both of life and soul, —
Source of most profligate licentiousness; —
Profuse destroyer of the public wealth,
And of all national prosperity!
Yet art thou hail’d, illustrious, and sublime,
Though indignation meriting and hate.
Fame, too, and Glory art thou call’d! — false Lights,
That, dazzling, lead the foolish world astray.
With what disasters hast thou now resolv’d
This happy Lusian State to overwhelm?
What perils, and what deaths hast thou decreed
Under some fatal but resplendent name?
What undiscover’d empires, and what mines
Of gold hast thou with luring promises
Reveal’d? What fame, what high recorded deeds,
What palms, and what triumphant victories?
Edward Quillinan (1853)
O passion of dominion! O fond lust
Of that poor vanity which men call Fame!
O treacherous appetite, whose highest gust
Is vulgar breath that taketh honour’s name!
O fell ambition, terrible but just
Art thou to breasts that cherish most thy flame!
Brief life for them is peril, storm, and rage,
This world a hell and death their heritage.
Shrewd prodigal ! whose riot is the dearth
Of states and principalities opprest;
Plunder and rape are of thy loathly birth;
Thou art alike of life and soul the pest.
High titles greet thee on this slavish earth;
Yet none so vile but they would fit thee best:
But Fame forsooth and Glory thou art styled,
And the blind herd is by a sound beguiled.
Ah, whither wilt thou lead us now astray,
Bent as thou art the fated land to wrong?
To what new forms of pain and death betray
With sounding names enticing us along?
What golden mines, what gorgeous realms of day,
Are now the promise of thy facile tongue?
What wondrous victories, what pomps of glory,
Ovations, triumphs, palms, immortal story?
Thomas Mitchell (1854)
O glory of commanding! Vain desire
For this vanity, which some of us call fame!
O cheating appetite, whereof the fire
By popular breath is fanned, which we honour name!
What chastisement extreme, what justice dire
Dost thou not exact in the breast that loves thy flame!
What deaths! what dangers! and what torments!
What cruelties in such experiments?
Painful inquietude of the soul and of life;
Source of backslidings, and adulteries;
Sagacious well-known consumer and vile thief,
Of men’s estates, of kingdoms and territories!
They call thee illustrious, they call thee chief,
Although deserving of infamous vituperaries:
They call thee fame, and glory sovereign;
Names with which the foolish people are taken in.
Hast thou determined to what new disasters
Thou wilt lead these kingdoms, and these people sailing?
What dangers, — to what deaths must they hasten faster,
Under some eminent name o’er them prevailing?
What promises of kingdoms, mines of their master
Gold, whereof thy promises are never-failing?
What tames, wilt thou not promise them? what histories:
What triumphs? what palms? what laurels, and what victories?
John James Aubertin (1878)
O glory of command: O vain desire
Of this mere vanity which we call fame!
O fancy fraudulent that gathers fire
From popular breath, usurping honour’s name!
What justice and what castigation dire
In the vain breast that blindly loves your aim
Ye work! what deaths and dangers, what distress
And with what cruelties do ye oppress!
Of life and soul cruel inquietude,
Fount of neglect and hence adulteries,
Destructive insect, whose known stings intrude
On lands and kingdoms and on dynasties;
Illustrious called, and as renowned pursued,
Thou art condignly charged with infamies;
They call thee sovereign glory, call thee fame,
And the ignorant are blinded by the name!
To what disasters new dost thou design
To lead away these kingdoms and this race?
What dangers and what deaths dost thou combine
Under some name of eminence and grace?
What kingdoms, or, perchance, what golden mine
Dost promise them with thy so ready face?
What fame hold out to them? what history’s page?
What triumphs, palms, what victories engage?
Robert Ffrench Duff (1880)
O great ambition! vile and base desire
Of idle vanity or earthly fame!
Delusive hopes, which sets our souls on fire! —
We call thee honour, when the mobs acclaim
With feeble praise, and gain an empty name —
What heavy chastisements dost thou impose
On all those men, whose breasts such thoughts inflame,
What troubles, slights, what dangers, deaths and woes!
At every step they feel severe and eruel blows.
O restless perturbation of the soul,
And human life! thou causest desolation,
Adulteries, ruin, where thou hast control,
Thou art the gulf, which swallows fortune, nation,
Empire, and kingdoms by thy fascination!
As grand, sublime and lofty, thou art greeted,
When thou deservest only detestation:
Thy wicked acts, like fame and glory treated,
Illusions spread by which unwary men are cheated.
What new misfortunes dire dost thou intend
Against these realms or men? Are thy designs
To cause them perils or untimely end?
What promise of strange lands or golden mines
Their minds to thy deceitful snares inclines?
Is it some feat, renowned in future days,
Achieved with ease, which with such glitter shines?
What splendid triumph or great victory?
What fame’s immortal palms, and bright undying glory?
Richard Francis Burton (1880)
Oh craving of Command! Oh vain Desire!
of vainest vanity man miscalleth Fame!
Oh fraud’ulent gust, so easy fanned to fire
by breath of vulgar, aping Honour’s name!
What just and dreadful judgment deals thine ire,
to seely souls who overlove thy claim!
What deaths, what direful risks, what agonies
wherewith thou guerd’onest them, thy fitting prize!
Thou dour disturber of man’s sprite and life,
fount of backsliding and adultery,
sagacious waster, and consummate thief
of subjects, kingdoms, treasure, empery:
They hail thee noble, and they hail thee chief,
though digne of all indignities thou be;
they call thee Fame and Glory sovereign,
words, words, the heart of silly herd to gain!
‘What new disaster dost thou here design?
What horror for our realm and race invent?
What unheard dangers or what deaths condign,
veiled by some name that soundeth excellent?
What bribe of gorgeous reign, and golden mine,
whose ready offer is so rarely meant?
What Fame hast promised them? what pride of story?
What palms? what triumphs? what victorious glory?
Leonard Bacon (1950)
Glory of empire! Most unfruitful lust
After the vanity that men call fame!
It kindles still, the hypocritic gust,
By rumor, which as honor men acclaim.
What thy vast vengeance and thy sentence just
On the vain heart that greatly loves thy name!
What death, what peril, tempest, cruel woe,
Dost thou decree that he must undergo!
Dreadful disquiet of his life and soul!
Spring of adultery and abandonment,
Empires and realms and wealth consuming whole,
And, as we know, only too provident!
Thy powers for high and noble men extol,
More worthy of their curse malevolent,
And call thee fame and glory’s plenitude,
Names whereby witless men their souls delude.
What new disasters dost thou now prepare
Against these kingdoms and against their seed?
What peril and what death for them to bear,
Under some mighty name, hast thou decreed?
What mines of gold now dost thou promise fair?
What kingdoms? — promise lightly made indeed!
What fame dost thou propose? What legend glorious?
What palm? What triumph? And what war victorious?
Landeg White (1997)
O pride of power! O futile lust
For that vanity known as fame!
That hollow conceit which puffs itself up
And which popular cant calls honour!
What punishment, what poetic justice,
You exact on souls that pursue you!
To what deaths, what miseries you condemn
Your heroes! What pains you inflict on them!
You wreck all peace of soul and body,
You promote separation and adultery;
Subtly, manifestly, you consume
The wealth of kingdoms and empires!
They call distinction, they call honour
What deserves ridicule and contempt;
They talk of glory and eternal fame,
And men are driven frantic by a name!
To what new catastrophes do you plan
To drag this kingdom and these people?
What perils, what deaths have you in store
Under what magniloquent title?
What visions of kingdoms and gold-mines
Will you guide them to infallibly?
What fame do you promise them? What stories?
What conquests and processions? What glories?
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