e of obtaining any recognition of his valiant
deeds, he now resolved, under the burning sun of India, to seek that
independence which his own country denied. "The last words I uttered,"
says Camoens, "on board the vessel before leaving, were those of Scipio:
'Ungrateful country! thou shalt not even possess my bones.'" "Some,"
says Lord Strangford, "attribute his departure to a very different
cause, and assert that he quitted his native shores on account of an
intrigue in which he was detected with the beautiful wife of a
Portuguese gentleman. Perhaps," says Lord Strangford, "this story may
not be wholly unfounded." On his arrival in India he contributed by his
bravery to the success of an expedition carried on by the King of
Cochin, and his allies, the Portuguese, against the Pimento Islands; and
in the following year (1555) he accompanied Manuel de Vasconcelos in an
expedition to the Red Sea. Here he explored the wild regions of East
Africa, and stored his mind with ideas of scenery, which afterwards
formed some of the most finished pictures of the Lusiad.

On his return to Goa, Camoens devoted his whole attention to the
completion of his poem; but an unfortunate satire which, under the title
of _Disparates na India_, or Follies in India, he wrote against the
vices and corruptions of the Portuguese authorities in Goa, so roused
the indignation of the viceroy that the poet was banished to China.

Of his adventures in China, and the temporary prosperity he enjoyed
there, while he held the somewhat uncongenial office of _Provedor dos
defuntos_, i.e., Trustee for deceased persons, Mickle has given an ample
account in the introduction to the Lusiad. During those years Camoens
completed his poem, about half of which was written before he left
Europe. According to a tradition, not improbable in itself, he composed
great part of it in a natural grotto which commands a splendid view of
the city and harbour of Macao. An engraving of it may be seen in
Onseley's Oriental Collections, and another will be found in Sir G.
Staunton's Account of the Embassy to China.

A little temple, in the Chinese style, has been erected upon the rock,
and the ground around it has been ornamented by Mr. Fitzhugh, one of our
countrymen, from respect to the memory of the poet. The years that he
passed in Macao were probably the happiest of his life. Of his departure
for Europe, and his unfortunate shipwreck at the mouth of the river
Meekhaun,[4] in C