Diruit, ædificat, mutat quadrata rotundis.
It is hard to quote a line which he deigned textually to translate. He
not only commits felony on the original by abstracting whole sentences
and pages _ad libitum_, but he also thrusts false goods into his
author’s pocket and patronises the unfortunate Eastern story-teller by
foisting upon him whatever he, the “translator and traitor,” deems
needful. On this point no more need be said: the curious reader has but
to compare any one of Scott’s “translations” with the original or, for
that matter, with the present version.
I determined to do that for Scott which Lane had done partly and
imperfectly, and Payne had successfully and satisfactorily done for
Galland. But my first difficulty was about the text. It was impossible
to face without affright the prospect of working for months amid the
discomforts and the sanitary dangers of Oxford’s learned atmosphere and
in her obsolete edifices the Bodleian and the Radcliffe. Having
ascertained, however, that in the so-called “University” not a scholar
could be found to read the text, I was induced to apply for a loan—not
to myself personally for I should have shunned the responsibility—but in
the shape of a temporary transfer of the seven-volumed text, tome by
tome, to the charge of Dr. Rost, the excellent Librarian of the India
Office.
My hopes, however, were fated to be deferred. Learned bodies, Curators
and so forth, are ponderous to move and powerless to change, for
The trail of the slow-worm is over them all.
My official application was made on September 13th, 1886. The tardiest
steps were taken as if unwillingly and, when they could no longer
decently be deferred, they resulted in the curtest and most categorical
but not most courteous of refusals, under circumstances of peculiar
disfavour, on November 1st of the same year. Here I shall say no more:
the correspondence has been relegated to Appendix A. My subscribers,
however, will have no reason to complain of these “Ineptiæ Bodleianæ.” I
had pledged myself in case of a loan “not to translate Tales that might
be deemed offensive to propriety:” the Curators have kindly set me free
from that troublesome condition and I thank them therefor.
Meanwhile I had not been idle. Three visits to Oxford in September and
October had enabled me to reach the DIVth Night. But the laborious days
and inclement evenings, combined with the unsanitary state of town and
libraries—the Bodleian and the Rotunda—brought on a serious attack of
“lithiasis” as it is now called, and prostrated me for two months, until
it was time to leave England en route for my post.
Under these circumstances my design threatened to end in failure. As
often befalls to men out of England, every move ventured by me menaced
only check-mate. I began by seeking a copyist at Oxford, one who would
imitate the text as an ignoramus might transcribe music: an
undergraduate volunteered for the task and after a few days dropped it
in dumb disgust. The attempt was presently repeated by a friend with the
unsatisfactory result that three words out of four were legible. In
London several Easterns were described as able and willing for the work;
but they also were found wanting; one could not be trusted with the MS.
and another was marriage-mad. Photography was lastly proposed, but
considerations of cost seemed to render it unavailable. At last, when
matters were at the worst, the proverbial amendment appeared. Mr.
Chandler, whose energetic and conscientious opposition to all “Bodleian
loans,” both of books and of manuscripts, had mainly caused the passing
of the prohibitory statute, came forward in the most friendly and
generous way: with no small trouble to himself he superintended the
“sun-pictures,” each page of the original being reduced to half-size,
and he insisted upon the work being done wholly and solely at his own
expense. I know not how to express my gratitude.
The process was undertaken by Mr. Percy Notcutt, of Kingsbury and
Notcutt, 45, St. George’s Place, Knightsbridge, and the four hundred and
odd pages were reproduced in most satisfactory style.
Being relegated to a port-town which never possessed even an Arabic
lexicon, I have found some difficulty with the Wortley Montague MS. as
it contains a variety of local words unknown to the common dictionaries.
But I have worked my best to surmount the obstacle by consulting many
correspondents, amongst whom may be mentioned the name of my late
lamented friend, the Reverend George Percy Badger; and, finally, by
submitting my proofs to the corrections and additions of the
lexicologist Dr. Steingass.
Appendix B will require no apology to the numerous admirers of Mr. E. J.
W. Gibb’s honest and able work, “The History of the Forty Vezirs”
(London, Redway, MDCCCLXXXVI). The writer in a book intended for the
public was obliged to leave in their original Turkish, and distinguished
only by italics, three “facetious” tales which, as usual, are some of
the best in the book. These have been translated for me and I offer them
to my readers on account of their curious analogies with many in The
Nights.