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Bon voyage: "Stories about travel" » Portuguese (EU) to English » Entry #27506


Source text in Portuguese (EU)

Translation #27506

Na Europa, na Africa, na America tem uma lenda, a lenda de um homem que vôa, um filho do ar, que ás vezes, ao descer para a terra, como que recebe da terra mostras de justo resentimento pelo muito que parece desdenhal-a.

Ainda ultimamente, em S. Luiz, nos Estados-Unidos, esteve, ao descer do ar, para ser victima de uma grande catastrophe, que o telegrapho noticiou, e que causou dolorosa impressão em toda Lisboa.

Refiro-me a Antonio Infante, aeronauta portuguez... unico!

Foi em 1883 que elle fez em Lisboa, na explanada do antigo Colyseu, a sua primeira ascensão, com o Beudet, lembram-se?

Toda a gente ficou admirada de que um rapaz bem nascido, que apenas conhecia a região do Chiado, se affoutasse a ir devassar os mysterios da região do éther, porque nós os portuguezes, como sempre nos tem acontecido em tudo, lançamos ao ar o primeiro balão, ensinamos os outros a serem aeronautas e nunca mais o quizemos ser.

Parece que no ar, como na terra, tudo está em dar o primeiro passo... perdão, o primeiro vôo.

Antonio Infante fez em Lisboa segunda ascensão, e depois, como o socio do Beudet se desligasse da empreza, Antonio Infante continuou a sociedade e foi-se para Hespanha com o antigo socio do Beudet.

Em Madrid realisou uma ascensão tendo por companheiro um homem conhecido, Ducascal, actualmente deputado e, passando a Italia, subiu em Napoles com o director do Observatorio á altura do seis mil e quinhentos metros, por tal signal que o sabio do Observatorio, tendo lá em cima a vertigem do infinito, encolheu-se no fundo da barquinha, e mandou ao diabo a sciencia e as observações.

Eu faria o mesmo, se tivesse perpetrado uma tal aventura.

Mas em Napoles esteve Antonio Infante para representar involuntariamente n'uma tragedia aerea, porque elle não conhece outras.

Procurou-o um desconhecido e propoz-lhe que, a troco d'uma certa quantia, o levasse no balão. O aeronauta acceitou, e, no dia aprasado, estava já o balão quasi cheio de gaz, quando a policia appareceu e prendeu o desconhecido.

Seria um salteador—os salteadores são tão vulgares em Napoles!—que recorresse a esse meio de escapula?

Nada d'isso.

Era apenas um suicida, que já por mais vezes havia attentado contra a existencia, e que d'aquella vez sonhára despenhar-se no infinito...

Se a policia não acode tanto a tempo, Infante teria tido que luctar com o homem dentro da barquinha ou, se elle houvesse podido suicidar-se, teria que livrar-se da suspeita de um crime.
There is a legend in Europe, Africa and America, a legend of a man who flies, a son of the air who, when landing sometimes on earth, seems to receive signs of deserved resentment from the earth for his constant disdain for it.

Not too long ago, as he made his descent in St-Louis, in the United States, he was about to fall victim of a big catastrophe, which was announced by telegraph, causing a sorry impression in all of Lisbon.

I am referring to Antonio Infante, a Portuguese aeronaut... one of a kind!

It was in 1883 that he made his first ascent in Lisbon, at the Esplanade of the ancient Colosseum, with Beudet, remember?

The public was impressed that a young man of good background, who barely knew the Chiado region, would take a risk and expose the mysteries of the realm of the ether, because we, the Portuguese, as it always happened with everything, had launched the first balloon, taught others to become aeronauts and never again wanted to be one.

It seems that, in the air, as on earth, everything is in making the first step... pardon me, the first flight.

Antonio Infante made, in Lisbon, the second ascent and after that, as the partner of Beudet had resigned from the company, Antonio Infante continued the enterprise and left for Spain with the ex-partner of Beudet.

In Madrid, he made an ascent having by his side a well-known man, Ducascal, at the time a deputy, and, moving to Italy, ascended in Naples with the director of the Observatory to the height of six thousand five hundred meters, to the point that the scientist of the Observatory, having experienced the thrill of the infinite, crouched into the back of the ship and sent science and his observations to hell.

I would do the same, had I entered into such adventure.

But Antonio Infante was in Naples to unwittingly be part of an aerial tragedy, as he did not know any better.

A stranger had approached him and proposed to him, in exchange of a certain amount, to take him up in the balloon. The aeronaut accepted and, on the set day, the balloon had already been filled with gas, when the Police showed up and arrested the stranger.

Could it have been a thief – thieves were so common in Naples! who resorted to this means of escape?

Nothing of the sort.

He was just a suicidal who had tried to end his life several times and who dreamed that this time he would crash into the Infinite.

If the police hadn't arrived in time, Infante would have had to fight with the man in the balloon or, if the man had been able to commit suicide, he would have had to extricate himself from the suspicion of a crime.


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