is found in Wither's comment, there was some realization that metrical
elements were present in various books of Scripture. Jerome, in his
_Preface to Job_, had called attention to this,[245] but the regular
translators, whose references to Jerome, though frequent, are somewhat
vague, apparently made nothing of the suggestion. Elsewhere, however,
there was an attempt to justify the inclusion of translations of the
Psalms among other metrical experiments. Googe, defending the having of
the Psalms in metre, declares that Isaiah, Jeremiah, and other parts of
the Bible "were written by the first authors in perfect and pleasant
hexameter verses."[246] Stanyhurst[247] and Fraunce[248] both tried
putting the Psalms into English hexameters. There was, however, no
accurate knowledge of the Hebrew verse system. The preface to the
American _Bay Psalm Book_, published in 1640,[249] explains that "The
psalms are penned in such verses as are suitable to the poetry of the
Hebrew language, and not in the common style of such other books of the
Old Testament as are not poetical.... Then, as all our English songs
(according to the course of our English poetry) do run in metre, so
ought David's psalms to be translated into metre, that we may sing the
Lord's songs, as in our English tongue so in such verses as are familiar
to an English ear, which are commonly metrical." It is not possible to
reproduce the Hebrew metres. "As the Lord hath hid from us the Hebrew
tunes, lest we should think ourselves bound to imitate them; so also the
course and frame (for the most part) of their Hebrew poetry, that we
might not think ourselves bound to imitate that, but that every nation
without scruple might follow as the grave sort of tunes of their own
country, so the graver sort of verses of their own country's poetry."
This had already become the common solution of the difficulty, so that
even Wither keeps to the kinds of verse used in the old Psalm books in
order that the old tunes may be used.
But though the metrical versions of the Psalms often inclined to
doggerel, and though they probably had little, if any, influence on the
Authorized Version, they made their own claims to accuracy, and even
after the appearance of the King James Bible sometimes demanded
attention as improved renderings. George Wither, for example, believes
that in using verse he is being more faithful to the Hebrew than are the
prose translations. "There is," he says, "a poetical emphasis in many
places, which requires such an alteration in the grammatical expression,
as will seem to make some difference in the judgment of the common
reader; whereas it giveth best life to the author's intention; and makes
that perspicuous which was made obscure by those mere grammatical
interpreters, who were not acquainted with the proprieties and liberties
of this kind of writing." His version is, indeed, "so easy to be
understood, that some readers have confessed, it hath been instead of a
comment unto them in sundry hard places." His rendering is not based
merely on existing English versions; he has "the warrant of best Hebrew
grammarians, the authority of the Septuagint, and Chaldean paraphrase,
the example of the ancient and of the best modern prose translators,
together with the general practice and allowance of all orthodox
expositors." Like Wither, other translators went back to original
sources and made their verse renderings real exercises in translation
rather than mere variations on the accepted English text. From this
point of view their work had perhaps some value; and though it seems
regrettable that practically nothing of permanent literary importance
should have resulted from such repeated experiments, they are
interesting at least as affording some connection between the sphere of
the regular translators and the literary world outside.
FOOTNOTES:
[155] _Preface to Genesis_, in Pollard, _Records of the English Bible_, p.
94.
[156] Pollard, p. 266.
[157] _Ibid._, p. 112.
[158] _Ibid._, p. 187.
[159] _Ibid._, p. 205.
[160] Coverdale, _Prologue_ to Bible of 1535.
[161] Pollard, p. 196.
[162] _Ibid._, p. 259.
[163] _Ibid._, p. 365.
[164] _Ibid._, p. 360.
[165] Pollard, p. 220.
[166] _Ibid._, p. 239.
[167] _Ibid._, p. 163.
[168] _Ibid._, p. 126.
[169] _Ibid._, p. 203.
[170] _Ibid._, p. 371.
[171] Pollard, p. 280.
[172] Pollard, p. 241.
[173] Strype, _Life of Parker_, London, 1711, p. 536.
[174] For a further account of Aelfric's theories, see Chapter I.
[175] _The Psalter translated by Richard Rolle of Hampole_, ed. Bramley,
Oxford, 1884.
[176] Chapter 15, in Pollard, _Fifteenth Century Prose and Verse_.
[177] _Prologue_, Chapter 15.
[178] _Prologue to the New Testament_, printed in Matthew's Bible, 1551.
[179] Strype, _Life of Parker_, p. 208.
[180] Pollard, p. 116.
[181] Preface to _The Obedience of a Christian Man_, in _Doctrinal
Treatises_, Parker Society, 1848, p. 390.
[182] Pollard, p. 211.
[183] _Ibid._, p. 277.
[184] _Ibid._, p. 306.
[185] _Life of Cheke_, p. 212.
[186] Strype, _Life of Parker_, p. 404.
[187] Pollard, p. 361.
[188] Fulke, _Defence_, Parker Society, p. 552.
[189] _Defence_, p. 552.
[190] _Ibid._, p. 97.
[191] _Ibid._, p. 408.
[192] Pollard, p. 375.
[193] E.g., Fulke, _Defence_, p. 163.
[194] Pollard, p. 349.
[195] _Ibid._, p. 303.
[196] _Ibid._, p. 277.
[197] Pollard, p. 281.
[198] _Ibid._, p. 309.
[199] Preface to _The Obedience of a Christian Man, Doctrinal Treatises_,
pp. 148-9.
[200] _Life of Cheke_, p. 212.
[201] _Ibid._, p. 212.
[202] An interesting comment of later date than the Authorized Version is
found in the preface to William L'Isle's _Divers Ancient Monuments of the
Saxon Tongue_, published in 1638. L'Isle writes: "These monuments of
reverend antiquity, I mean the Saxon Bibles, to him that understandingly
reads and well considers the time wherein they were written, will in many
places convince of affected obscurity some late translations." After
criticizing the inkhorn terms of the Rhemish translators, he says, "The
Saxon hath words for Trinity, Unity, and all such foreign words as we are
now fain to use, because we have forgot better of our own." (In J. L.
Moore, _Tudor-Stuart Views on the Growth, Status, and Destiny of the
English Language_.)
[203] _Prologue_ to Bible of 1535.
[204] Pollard, p. 212.
[205] Fulke, pp. 337-8.
[206] Pollard, p. 291.
[207] _Ibid._, p. 374.
[208] _Prologue_, Chapter 15.
[209] Pollard, p. 298.
[210] Strype, _Life of Grindal_, Oxford, 1821, p. 19.
[211] Pollard, p. 127.
[212] _Ibid._, p. 124.
[213] Pollard, p. 274.
[214] _Ibid._, p. 305.
[215] Translated in _Remains of Archbishop Grindal_, Parker Society, 1843,
p. 234.
[216] Pollard, pp. 375-6.
[217] More, _Confutation of Tyndale_, _Works_, p. 417.
[218] _Ibid._, p. 427.
[219] Pollard, p. 307.
[220] Pollard, p. 291.
[221] _Defence_, p. 42.
[222] _Ibid._, p. 507.
[223] _Defence_, p. 210.
[224] _Confutation of the Rhemish Testament_, New York, 1834, p. 21.
[225] _Defence_, p. 118.
[226] _Ibid._, p. 160.
[227] _Ibid._, p. 217.
[228] _Defence_, p. 217.
[229] _Ibid._, p. 162.
[230] _Ibid._, p. 161.
[231] _Ibid._, p. 58.
[232] _Ibid._, p. 267.
[233] _Defence_, p. 217.
[234] _Ibid._, p. 179.
[235] _Ibid._, p. 90.
[236] _Defence_, p. 206.
[237] _Ibid._, p. 549.
[238] _Ibid._, p. 89.
[239] Pollard, _Introduction_, p. 37.
[240] See Holland, _The Psalmists of Britain_, London, 1843, for a detailed
account of such translations.
[241] Preface to _The Psalms of David translated into lyric verse_, 1632,
reprinted by the Spenser Society, 1881.
[242] Holland, p. 251.
[243] _Epistle Dedicatory_, to _The Psalms with M. John Calvin's
Commentaries_, 1571.
[244] _Op. cit._
[245] See _The Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers_, ed. Schaff and Wace, New
York, 1893, p. 491.
[246] Holland, Note, p. 89.
[247] Published at the end of his _Virgil_.
[248] In _The Countess of Pembroke's Emanuell_, 1591.
[249] Reprinted, New York, 1903.
III. THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY
III
THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY
The Elizabethan period presents translations in astonishing number and
variety. As the spirit of the Renaissance began to inspire England,
translators responded to its stimulus with an enthusiasm denied to later
times. It was work that appealed to persons of varying ranks and of
varying degrees of learning. In the early part of the century, according
to Nash, "every private scholar, William Turner and who not, began to
vaunt their smattering of Latin in English impressions."[250] Thomas
Nicholls, the goldsmith, translated Thucydides; Queen Elizabeth
translated Boethius. The mention of women in this connection suggests
how widely the impulse was diffused. Richard Hyrde says of the
translation of Erasmus's _Treatise on the Lord's Prayer_, made by
Margaret Roper, the daughter of Sir Thomas More, "And as for the
translation thereof, I dare be bold to say it, that whoso list and well
can confer and examine the translation with the original, he shall not
fail to find that she hath showed herself not only erudite and elegant
in either tongue, but hath also used such wisdom, such discreet and
substantial judgment, in expressing lively the Latin, as a man may
peradventure miss in many things translated and turned by them that bear
the name of right wise and very well learned men."[251] Nicholas Udall
writes to Queen Katherine that there are a number of women in England
who know Greek and Latin and are "in the holy scriptures and theology
so ripe that they are able aptly, cunningly, and with much grace either
to endite or translate into the vulgar tongue for the public instruction
and edifying of the unlearned multitude."[252]
The greatness of the field was fitted to arouse and sustain the ardor of
English translators. In contrast with the number of manuscripts at
command in earlier days, the sixteenth century must have seemed
endlessly rich in books. Printing was making the Greek and Latin
classics newly accessible, and France and Italy, awake before England to
the new life, were storing the vernacular with translations and with new
creations. Translators might find their tasks difficult enough and they
might flag by the way, as Hoby confesses to have done at the end of the
third book of _The Courtier_, but plucking up courage, they went on to
the end. Hoby declares, with a vigor that suggests Bunyan's Pilgrim, "I
whetted my style and settled myself to take in hand the other three
books";[253] Edward Hellowes, after the hesitation which he describes in
the Dedication to the 1574 edition of Guevara's _Familiar Epistles_,
"began to call to mind my God, my Prince, my country, and also your
worship," and so adequately upheld, went on with his undertaking; Arthur
Golding, with a breath of relief, sees his rendering of Ovid's
_Metamorphoses_ at last complete.
Through Ovid's work of turned shapes I have with painful pace
Passed on, until I had attained the end of all my race.
And now I have him made so well acquainted with our tongue,
As that he may in English verse as in his own be sung.[254]
Sometimes the toilsomeness of the journey was lightened by
companionship. Now and then, especially in the case of religious works,
there was collaboration. Luther's _Commentary on Galatians_ was
undertaken by "certain godly men," of whom "some began it according to
such skill as they had. Others godly affected, not suffering so good a
matter in handling to be marred, put to their helping hands for the
better framing and furthering of so worthy a work."[255] From Thomas
Norton's record of the conditions under which he translated Calvin's
_Institution of the Christian Religion_, it is not difficult to feel the
atmosphere of sympathy and encouragement in which he worked. "Therefore
in the very beginning of the Queen's Majesty's most blessed reign," he
writes, "I translated it out of Latin into English, for the commodity of
the Church of Christ, at the special request of my dear friends of
worthy memory, Reginald Wolfe and Edward Whitchurch, the one Her
Majesty's Printer for the Hebrew, Greek, and Latin tongues, the other
her Highness' Printer of the books of Common Prayer. I performed my work
in the house of my said friend, Edward Whitchurch, a man well known of
upright heart and dealing, an ancient zealous Gospeller, as plain and
true a friend as ever I knew living, and as desirous to do anything to
common good, specially to the advancement of true religion.... In the
doing hereof I did not only trust mine own wit or ability, but examined
my whole doing from sentence to sentence throughout the whole book with
conference and overlooking of such learned men, as my translation being
allowed by their judgment, I did both satisfy mine own conscience that I
had done truly, and their approving of it might be a good warrant to the
reader that nothing should herein be delivered him but sound, unmingled
and uncorrupted doctrine, even in such sort as the author himself had
first framed it. All that I wrote, the grave, learned, and virtuous man,
M. David Whitehead (whom I name with honorable remembrance) did among
others, compare with the Latin, examining every sentence throughout the
whole book. Beside all this, I privately required many, and generally
all men with whom I ever had any talk of this matter, that if they found
anything either not truly translated or not plainly Englished, they
would inform me thereof, promising either to satisfy them or to amend
it."[256] Norton's next sentence, "Since which time I have not been
advertised by any man of anything which they would require to be
altered" probably expresses the fate of most of the many requests for
criticism that accompany translations, but does not essentially modify
the impression he conveys of unusually favorable conditions for such
work. One remembers that Tyndale originally anticipated with some
confidence a residence in the Bishop of London's house while he
translated the Bible. Thomas Wilson, again, says of his translation of
some of the orations of Demosthenes that "even in these my small
travails both Cambridge and Oxford men have given me their learned
advice and in some things have set to their helping hand,"[257] and
Florio declares that it is owing to the help and encouragement of "two
supporters of knowledge and friendship," Theodore Diodati and Dr.
Gwinne, that "upheld and armed" he has "passed the pikes."[258]
The translator was also sustained by a conception of the importance of
his work, a conception sometimes exaggerated, but becoming, as the
century progressed, clearly and truly defined. Between the lines of the
dedication which Henry Parker, Lord Morley, prefixes to his translation
of Petrarch's _Triumphs_,[259] one reads a pathetic story of an
appreciation which can hardly have equaled the hopes of the author. He
writes of "one of late days that was groom of the chamber with that
renowned and valiant prince of high memory, Francis the French king,
whose name I have forgotten, that did translate these triumphs to that
said king, which he took so thankfully that he gave to him for his pains
an hundred crowns, to him and to his heirs of inheritance to enjoy to
that value in land forever, and took such pleasure in it that
wheresoever he went, among his precious jewels that book always carried
with him for his pastime to look upon, and as much esteemed by him as
the richest diamond he had." Moved by patriotic emulation, Lord Morley
"translated the said book to that most worthy king, our late sovereign
lord of perpetual memory, King Henry the Eighth, who as he was a prince
above all others most excellent, so took he the work very thankfully,
marvelling much that I could do it, and thinking verily I had not done
it without help of some other, better knowing in the Italian tongue than
I; but when he knew the very truth, that I had translated the work
myself, he was more pleased therewith than he was before, and so what
his highness did with it is to me unknown."
Hyperbole in estimating the value of the translator's work is not common
among Lord Morley's successors, but their very recognition of the
secondary importance of translation often resulted in a modest yet
dignified insistence on its real value. Richard Eden says that he has
labored "not as an author but as a translator, lest I be injurious to
any man in ascribing to myself the travail of other."[260] Nicholas
Grimald qualifies a translation of Cicero as "my work," and immediately
adds, "I call it mine as Plautus and Terence called the comedies theirs
which they made out of Greek."[261] Harrington, the translator of
_Orlando Furioso_, says of his work: "I had rather men should see and
know that I borrow at all than that I steal any, and I would wish to be
called rather one of the worst translators than one of the meaner
makers, specially since the Earl of Surrey and Sir Thomas Wiat, that are
yet called the first refiners of the English tongue, were both
translators out of the Italian. Now for those that count it such a
contemptible and trifling matter to translate, I will but say to them as
M. Bartholomew Clarke, an excellent learned man and a right good
translator, said in a manner of pretty challenge, in his Preface (as I
remember) upon the Courtier, which book he translated out of Italian
into Latin. 'You,' saith he, 'that think it such a toy, lay aside my
book, and take my author in hand, and try a leaf or such a matter, and
compare it with mine.'"[262] Philemon Holland, the "translator general"
of his time, writes of his art: "As for myself, since it is neither my
hap nor hope to attain to such perfection as to bring forth something of
mine own which may quit the pains of a reader, and much less to perform
any action that might minister matter to a writer, and yet so far bound
unto my native country and the blessed state wherein I have lived, as to
render an account of my years passed and studies employed, during this
long time of peace and tranquillity, wherein (under the most gracious
and happy government of a peerless princess, assisted with so prudent,
politic, and learned Counsel) all good literature hath had free progress
and flourished in no age so much: methought I owed this duty, to leave
for my part also (after many others) some small memorial, that might
give testimony another day what fruits generally this peaceable age of
ours hath produced. Endeavored I have therefore to stand in the third
rank, and bestowed those hours which might be spared from the practice
of my profession and the necessary cares of life, to satisfy my
countrymen now living and to gratify the age ensuing in this
kind."[263] To Holland's simple acceptance of his rightful place, it is
pleasant to add the lines of the poet Daniel, whose imagination was
stirred in true Elizabethan fashion by the larger relations of the
translator. Addressing Florio, the interpreter of Montaigne to the
English people, he thanks him on behalf of both author and readers for
... his studious care
Who both of him and us doth merit much,
Having as sumptuously as he is rare
Placed him in the best lodging of our speech,
And made him now as free as if born here,
And as well ours as theirs, who may be proud
To have the franchise of his worth allowed.
It being the proportion of a happy pen,
Not to b'invassal'd to one monarchy,
But dwell with all the better world of men
Whose spirits are of one community,
Whom neither Ocean, Deserts, Rocks, nor Sands
Can keep from th' intertraffic of the mind.[264]
In a less exalted strain come suggestions that the translator's work is
valuable enough to deserve some tangible recognition. Thomas Fortescue
urges his reader to consider the case of workmen like himself, "assuring
thyself that none in any sort do better deserve of their country, that
none swink or sweat with like pain and anguish, that none in like sort
hazard or adventure their credit, that none desire less stipend or
salary for their travail, that none in fine are worse in this age
recompensed."[265] Nicholas Udall presents detailed reasons why it is to
be desired that "some able, worthy, and meet persons for doing such
public benefit to the commonweal as translating of good works and
writing of chronicles might by some good provision and means have some
condign sustentation in the same."[266] "Besides," he argues, "that such
a translator travaileth not to his own private commodity, but to the
benefit and public use of his country: besides that the thing is such as
must so thoroughly occupy and possess the doer, and must have him so
attent to apply that same exercise only, that he may not during that
season take in hand any other trade of business whereby to purchase his
living: besides that the thing cannot be done without bestowing of long
time, great watching, much pains, diligent study, no small charges, as
well of meat, drink, books, as also of other necessaries, the labor self
is of itself a more painful and more tedious thing than for a man to
write or prosecute any argument of his own invention. A man hath his own
invention ready at his own pleasure without lets or stops, to make such
discourse as his argument requireth: but a translator must ... at every
other word stay, and suspend both his cogitation and his pen to look
upon his author, so that he might in equal time make thrice as much as
he can be able to translate."
The belief present in the comment of both Fortescue and Udall that the
work of the translator is of peculiar service to the state is expressed
in connection with translations of every sort. Richard Taverner declares
that he has been incited to put into English part of the _Chiliades_ of
Erasmus by "the love I bear to the furtherance and adornment of my
native country."[267] William Warde translates _The Secrets of Maister
Alexis of Piemont_ in order that "as well Englishmen as Italians,
Frenchmen, or Dutchmen may suck knowledge and profit hereof."[268] John
Brende, in the Dedication of his _History of Quintus Curtius_, insists
on the importance of historical knowledge, his appreciation of which has
made him desire "that we Englishmen might be found as forward in that
behalf as other nations, which have brought all worthy histories into
their natural language."[269] Patriotic emulation of what has been done
in other countries is everywhere present as a motive. Occasionally the
Englishman shows that he has studied foreign translations for his own
guidance. Adlington, in his preface to his rendering of _The Golden Ass_
of Apuleius, says that he does not follow the original in certain
respects, "for so the French and Spanish translators have not
done";[270] Hoby says of his translation of _The Courtier_, "I have
endeavored myself to follow the very meaning and words of the author,
without being misled by fantasy or leaving out any parcel one or other,
whereof I know not how some interpreters of this book into other
languages can excuse themselves, and the more they be conferred, the
more it will perchance appear."[271] On the whole, however, the comment
confines itself to general statements like that of Grimald, who in
translating Cicero is endeavoring "to do likewise for my countrymen as
Italians, Frenchmen, Spaniards, Dutchmen, and other foreigners have
liberally done for theirs."[272] In spite of the remarkable output
England lagged behind other countries. Lord Morley complains that the
printing of a merry jest is more profitable than the putting forth of
such excellent works as those of Petrarch, of which England has "very
few or none, which I do lament in my heart, considering that as well in
French as in the Italian (in the which both tongues I have some little
knowledge) there is no excellent work in the Latin, but that straightway
they set it forth in the vulgar."[273] Morley wrote in the early days
of the movement for translation, but later translators made similar
complaints. Hoby says in the preface to _The Courtier_: "In this point
(I know not by what destiny) Englishmen are most inferior to most of all
other nations: for where they set their delight and bend themselves with
an honest strife of matching others to turn into their mother tongue not
only the witty writings of other languages but also of all philosophers,
and all sciences both Greek and Latin, our men ween it sufficient to
have a perfect knowledge to no other end but to profit themselves and
(as it were) after much pains in breaking up a gap bestow no less to
close it up again." To the end of the century translation is encouraged
or defended on the ground that it is a public duty. Thomas Danett is
urged to translate the _History_ of Philip de Comines by certain
gentlemen who think it "a great dishonor to our native land that so
worthy a history being extant in all languages almost in Christendom
should be suppressed in ours";[274] Chapman writes indignantly of Homer,
"And if Italian, French, and Spanish have not made it dainty, nor
thought it any presumption to turn him into their languages, but a fit
and honorable labor and (in respect of their country's profit and their
prince's credit) almost necessary, what curious, proud, and poor
shamefastness should let an English muse to traduce him?"[275]