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PUBLICATIONS 

or  THE 

Modern  Language  Association 


OF 


AMERICA 


EDITED   BY 

JAMES   W.   BKIGHT 

SECRETARY  OF  THE  ASSOCIATION 


VOL.   XIII 
NEW   SERIES,   VOL.  VI 


BALTIMORE 

PUBLISHED  BY  THE  ASSOCIATION 
PRINTED  BY  JOHN  MURPHY  &  COMPANY 

1898 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE. 

I.— The  question  of  Free  and  Checked  Vowels  in  Gallic  Popular 
Latin.  By  JOHN  E.  MATZKE, 

n. Elizabethan  Translations  from  the  Italian :  the  titles  of  such 

works  now  first  collected  and  arranged,  with  annotations. 

By  MARY  AUGUSTA  SCOTT,  42 

III.— A  View  of  the  Views  about  Hamlet.    By  ALBERT  H.  TOLMAN,     155 
IV.— The  Province  of  English  Philology.    By  ALBERT  S.  COOK,    -    185 

V. — A  Sonnet  ascribed  to  Chiaro  Davanzati  and  its  place  in  Fable 

Literature.     By  KENNETH  McKENZiE,     -  205 

VI.— Ben  Jonson  and  the  Classical  School.  By  FELIX  E.  SCHELLING,     221  • 

VII.— The  Earliest  Poems  of  Wilhelm  Miiller.     By  JAMES  TAPT 

HATFIELD, 250 

VIII.— On  Translating  Anglo-Saxon  Poetry.     By  EDWARD  FULTON,     286 
IX.— The  Poetry  of  Nicholas  Breton.   By  EVA  MARCH  TAPPAN,   -    297 

X. — Boccaccio's  Defense  of  Poetry ;  as  contained  in  the  fourteenth 
book  of  the  De  Genealogia  Deorum.  By  ELIZABETH  WOOD- 
BRIDGE,  333 

XL— The  Language  of  Modern  Norway.    By  GISLE  BOTHNE,       -    350 

XII. — De  Ortu  Waluuanii :  An  Arthurian  Romance  now  first  edited 
from  the  Cottonian  MS.  Faustina  B.  VI.,  of  the  British 
Museum.  By  J.  DOUGLAS  BRUCE, 365 

XIII. — The  Old  English  Version  of  the  Gospel  of  Nicodemus.    By 

W.  H.HULME, 457 

XIV.— Ein  Beitrag  zur  Kritik  der  Romantischen  Sagas.      By  E. 

KOLBING, 543 

iii 


lv  CONTENTS. 


APPENDIX   I. 

Proceedings  of  the  Fifteenth  Annual  Meeting  of  the  Modern 
Language  Association  of  America,  held  at  the  University  of 
Pennsylvania,  Philadelphia,  Pa.,  December  27,  28,  29,  1897. 

Report  of  the  Secretary;      ---.... 

Report  of  the  Treasurer,     - 

111 
Appointment  of  committees, 

1.  The  new  requirements  in   entrance   English      Bv  T    W 

HUNT, _' 

2.  The  close  of  Goethe's  Tasso,  as  a  literary  problem      BV 

HENRY  WOOD,     - 

3.  The  phraseology  of  Moliere's  Predeuses  ridicules     Bv  THE- 

RESE  F.  COLIN,    -        -  •  . 

4.  The  question  of  free  and  checked  vowels  in  Gallic  Popular 

Latin.    By  JOHN  E.  MATZKE,     .....  y. 

Discussion:  By  L.E.  MENGER, 

5.  Ben  Jonson,  and  the  origin  of  the  Classical  School      By 

FELIX  E.  SCHELLING,          ---..I  ix 

6.  The  sources  of  Goethe's  printed  text.     By  W.  T.  HEWETT, 

7.  Parallel  treatment  of  the  vowel  e  in  Old  French  and  Pro- 

vencal.   By  A.  JODOCIUS, 

Address  of  welcome.    By  CHARLES  C.  HARRISON,    -        . 
Address  by  the  President  of  the  Association,  ALBERT  S.  COOK 

The  province  of  English  Philology,        -        .  x 

8.  The  morphology  of  the  Guernsey  dialect.     By  EDWIN  S. 

.LEWIS,          - 

9.  The  poetry  of  Nicholas  Breton.    By  EVA  MARCH  TAPPAN 

10.  Luther's  "Teufel"  and  Goethe's  « Mephistopheles."    By 

RICHARD  HOCHDORFER,       .        ...        . 

11.  Notes  on  some  Elizabethan  poems.     By  J.  B.  HENNEMAN, 

12.  The  relation  of  the  Drama  to  Literature.    B 


13.    ^  Sterne  on  German  literature" 


xi 


CONTENTS. 

PAGE. 
xi 


XV 
XV 
XV 

xvi 


Report  of  the  Secretary  of  the  Phonetic  Section,  GEORGE  HEMPL, 

Keport  of  the  Committee  of  Twelve, 

Report  of  the  Committee  on  Place  of  Meeting. 

Election  of  Officers,     - 

Report  of  the  Auditing  Committee,     - 

The  request  of  the  Committee  on  Interstate  Commerce, 

14.  Color  in  Old  English  poetry.    By  W.  E.  MEAD, 

15.  Professor  Schultz-Gora,  and  the  Testament  de  Rousseau.     By 

ADOLPH  COHN, 

16.  Recent  work  in  Celtic.    By  F.  N.  ROBINSON,       - 

17.  The  relation  of  the  Old  English  version  of  the  Gospel  of 

Nicodemus  to  the  Latin  original.     By  WILLIAM   H. 

xvii 

HULME,  - 

18.  The  French  literature  of  Louisiana  from  1894  to  1897.    By 

ALCEE  FORTIER, 

19.  The  rhythm  of  proper  names  in  Old   English  verse.     By 

JAMES  W.  BRIGHT, 

Annual  Meeting  of  the  American  Dialect  Society, 

20.  Early  influence  of  German  literature  in  America.   By  FRED- 

ERICK H.  WILKENS,      -        -        -   .     - 

21.  On  translating  Anglo-Saxon  poetry.    By  EDWARD  FULTON, 

22.  Boccaccio's  Defense  of  Poetry,  as  contained  in  the  fourteenth 

book  of  the  De  Genealogia  Deorum.     By  ELIZABETH 

WOODBRIDGE, 

23.  A  sonnet  ascribed  to  Chiaro  Davanzati  and  its  place  in  fable 

literature.     By  KENNETH  McKENZiE,  - 

24.  Seventeenth  Century  conceits.     By  CLARENCE  G.  CHILD,          xviii 

25.  Verbal  taboos,  their  nature  and  origin.    By  F.  N.  SCOTT,          xviii 

26.  Prepositions  in  the  works  of  Hans  Sachs.    By  C.  R.  MILLER,          xviii 
Final  vote  of  thanks, 

List  of  Officers,  - 

List  of  Members,        - 

List  of  Subscribing  Libraries, 

Honorary  Members, 

Roll  of  Members  Deceased,         .... 

The  Constitution  of  the  Association,  -  -     xxxvm 


yi  CONTENTS. 

PAGE. 
APPENDIX   II. 

Proceedings  of  the  Third  Annual  Meeting  of  the  Central  Divi- 
sion of  the  Modern  Language  Association  of  America,  held 
at  Evanston,  111.,  December  30,  31, 1897,  and  January  1, 1898. 

Addresses  of  welcome,        -        --        -         -        -         -        -  xliii 

1.  Methods  of  studying  English  masterpieces.     By  J.  SCOTT 

CLARK, xliv 

Keport  of  the  Secretary, xlvii 

Eeport  of  the  Treasurer,  xlviii 

Appointment  of  Committees, xlviii 

2.  Thomas  Murner's  prose  writings  of  the  year  1520.    By  ERNST 

Voss, 1 

3.  The  autobiographical  elements  in  William  Langland's  Piers 

the  Plowman.     By  ALBERT  E.  JACK,      -  1 

4.  On  the  development  of  Roots  and  their  meanings.     By  F.  A. 

WOOD,          .........  1 

5.  One  phase  of  Keats's  treatment  of  nature.     By  EDWARD  P. 

MORTON, 1 

6.  The  inflectional  types  of  the  qualifying  adjective  in  German. 

By  G.  O.  CURME, lii 

7.  The  component  elements  of  Aliscam.    By  RAYMOND  WEEKS,  lii 

8.  The  gender  of  English  loanwords  in  Danish.    By  DANIEL 

KILHAM  DODGE, Hi 

9.  On  the  Scandinavian  element  in  English.    By  ALBERT  E. 

EGGE, lii 

Report  of  the  auditing  committee,      .......  liv 

Election  of  Officers, liv 

Vote  of  thanks, -  liv 

10.  Heine's  relation  to  Wolfgang  Menzel.    By  JULIUS  GOEBEL,  Iv 

11.  The   Metamorphosis   of  Greene  and  of   Lyly.     By   C.   F. 

McCLUMPHA, IV 

12.  The  unity  of  place  in  the  Cid.    By  J.  E.  MATZKE,     -  -  Ivii 

13.  The  language  of  Modern  Norway.    By  GISLE  BOTHNE,  -  Ivii 
Motion  in  favor  of  joint  meetings  of  the  Association,          -  -  Iviii 

14.  Notes  on  Romanic  Syntax.    By  KARL  PIETSCH;^      -  -  Iviii 


CONTENTS.  Vll 

PAGE. 

15.  The  relation  of  the  Knightes  Tale  to  Palamon  and  Arcite.    By 

GEORGE  HEMPL,  -        -        -     ,/ Iviii 

16.  The  earliest  poems  of  Wilhelm  Miiller.     By  J.  T.  HAT- 

FIELD,  Iviii 

17.  Bacon's  Historia  Liieraria.     By  EWALD  FLUEGEL,       -  lix 


PUBLICATIONS 

OF  THE 

MODERN  LANGUAGE  ASSOCIATION  OF  AMERICA, 

1898. 
VOL.  XIII,  1.  NEW  SERIES,  VOL.  VI,  1. 


I.— THE  QUESTION  OF  FREE  AND  CHECKED 
VOWELS  IN  GALLIC  POPULAR  LATIN. 

The  problem  of  the  nature  of  free  and  checked  vowels  in 
the  gallo-roman  popular  speech  has  recently  been  made  the 
subject  of  an  article  published  by  Dr.  L.  E.  Menger,  in  Publi- 
cations of  the  Modern  Language  Association,  x,  pp.  306-341. 
His  conclusions  are  that  vowels  are  free  when  'they  develop: 
a  >  e,  e  >  oi,  e  >  ie,  o  >  ou,  o  >ue;'  that  they  are  checked 
when  'they  retain  their  original  forms/  and  that  those  cases 
which  cannot  be  included  in  either  category  are  neither  free 
nor  checked,  and  are  to  be  grouped  under  the  general  term  of 
'  secondary  developments.'  It  is  evident  that  such  a  division 
begs  the  question  at  issue.  The  solution  offered  must  be 
rejected  in  toto  and  has  already  received  a  categorical  answer 
by  Behrens  in  Z.  f.  R.  Ph.,  xxi,  p.  304.  The  question  is 
however  of  sufficient  importance  io  merit  new  consideration, 
and  I  shall  try  to  outline  in  the  following  pages  the  direction 
in  which  its  solution  must  be  sought.  The  history  of  the 
terms  free  and  checked  and  of  their  grammatical  signification 
will  serve  as  a  suitable  basis  for  the  argument. 

Ab  Jove  principium  !  Diez  in  his  Grammar,  adopting  the 
terminology  handed  down  by  the  Latin  grammarians,  spoke 

1 


2  JOHN    E.    MATZKE. 

of  long  vowels,  short  vowels,  and  vowels  in  position,  and  this 
division  became  the  model  upon  which  the  history  of  the 
Latin  vowels  was  studied  for  years.  If  additional  terms 
were  needed,  those  of  '  open  or  short/  and  *  closed  or  long ' 
syllables  were  available,  but  a  vowel  standing  in  such  a 
closed  or  long  syllable  could  in  the  next  sentence  be  referred 
to  as  standing  in  position,  and  we  even  find  the  word  '  Posi- 
tionssilbe '  used  to  express  the  same  idea.  Objections  to  the 
term  '  in  position '  were  advanced  only  when  the  relative 
importance  of  vowel  quantity  and  quality  became  the  subject 
of  discussion.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  Bohmer  in  his  article 
"Klang  nicht  Dauer/'  Rom.  Stud.,  in  (1878),  p.  352,  criti- 
cises the  use  of  these  terms,  referring  in  that  instance  par- 
ticularly to  Schuchardt.  He  adds  the  following  foot-note : 
"  Positionssilben  sollte  man  gar  nicht  sagen.  Es  giebt  nur 
Positionslange  im  Unterschied  von  Naturlange,  beides  von 
Silben  zu  sagen.  Position  heisst  eigentlich  ebensowenig  die 
Stellung  des  Vokals  vor  zwei  Consonanten  als  die  Stellung 
zweier  Cousonanten  nach  Vokal,  noch  auch  die  Stellung  Vokal 
-f  2  Consonanten  sondern  als  Uebersetzung  von  Oecns,  das 
die  Bedeutung,  die  es  im  Gegensatze  zu  <£ucrt?  sonst  hat,  auch 
hier  bewahrt,  die  Satzung,  dass  als  lange  Silbe  auch  diejenige 
gelten  soil,  deren  kurzem  Vokal  zwei  Consonanten  folgen." 
He  himself  makes  use  of  the  terms  'open  and  closed  syllable/ 
As  though  in  answer  to  this  criticism  ten  Brink,  in  his  famous 
pamphlet  entitled  Dauer  und  Klang  (1879),  introduced  the 
terms  '  lange '  (=  geminated),  '  mehrfache/  and  '  kurze  Con- 
sonanz/  to  describe  the  consonants  which  follow  after  any 
given  vowel,  though  in  general  he  maintained  the  old  termi- 
nology, and  often  spoke  of  Latin  or  Romanic  position. 

Since  the  phonetic  conditions  now  called  a  check  resemble 
so  closely  the  combinations  of  consonants  making  a  syllable 
long  by  position,  no  serious  misconception  could  arise  from 
the  use  of  the  term.  It  was  only  necessary  to  understand 
clearly  the  change  of  meaning  which  the  term  had  undergone. 
In  modern  grammar  it  no  longer  referred  to  the  length  of  the 


VOWELS    IN   GALLIC   POPULAR   LATIN.  3 

syllable  as  such,  but  it  described  the  position  of  the  vowel 
before  more  than  one  consonant,  except  mute  plus  liquid. 
While  the  term  was  thus  of  service,  its  greatest  drawback 
arose  from  the  fact  that  the  nature  of  vowels  could  not  be 
described  directly  by  it,  but  only  through  the  consonants 
which  followed  them  or  the  syllables  which  contained  them. 
This  deficiency  was  remedied  by  G.  Paris  in  Rom.,  x  (1881), 
p.  36.  He  there  introduced  the  terms  'libre7  and  'entrave"7 
and  defined  them  as  follows:  "J7appelle  voyelle  libre  celle 
qui  est  finale,  suivie  d'une  voyelle,  d'une  consonne  simple,  ou 
des  groupes  pr,  br,  tr,  dr;  voyelle  entrave"e  celle  qui  est  suivie 
de  deux  consonnes  autres  que  les  groupes  mentionne's.  .  .  ." 
This  new  terminology  he  then  proceeded  to  apply  in  an  exten- 
sive study  of  closed  o,  and  thereafter  it  was  soon  adopted  by 
other  scholars. 

In  this  connection  it  was  of  interest  to  determine  when  and 
where  these  new  terms  were  first  introduced  into  German 
science.  Tobler,  who  wrote  a  short  notice  of  the  article 
in  question  in  Z.f.  JR.  Ph.,  vi,  p.  166,  passed  them  over  in 
silence,  but  in  the  year  folio  wingViesing,  in  an  article,  "Ueber 
Franzosisches  ie  fur  Lateinisches  fi,"  Z.f.  E.  Ph.,  vi  (1882), 
p.  372  if.,  used  the  terms  '  frei '  and  '  gedeckt 7  as  evident 
translations  of  'libre7  and  'entraveY  in  a  manner  which  sfyows 
that  they  had  already  been  commonly  accepted.  While  'frei7 
is  a  simple  translation,  'gedeckt7  is  not,  and  it  is  for  this 
reason  that  it  would  be  interesting  to  know  the  circumstances 
under  which  the  translation  was  made.  The  term  '  gedeckt 7 
had  been  used  for  some  time  to  describe  a  consonant  followed 
by  another  consonant,  as  in  Haase7s  dissertation  Das  Verhalten 
der  pikardischen  und  wallonischen  Denkmdler  des  Mittelalters 
in  Bezug  auf  a  und  e  vor  gedecktem  n,  1880.  Thus  it  appears 
that  'gedeckt7  as  an  equivalent  of  French  'entrave"7  represents 
an  adaptation  of  an  old  term  to  a  new  purpose.  Since  words 
have  the  meanings  which  are  ascribed  to  them  by  those  who 
use  them,  it  will  be  useless  to  criticize  the  employment  of  the 
term,  but  it  seems  to  me  that  '  gebunden 7  would  have  been  a 


4  JOHN   E.    MATZKE. 

much  better  rendering  of  the  notion  of  G.  Paris.  The  English 
term  '  checked/  which  commended  itself  to  me,  cf.  Mod.  Lang. 
Notes,  IX,  col.  207,  in  my  opinion  expresses  the  idea  much 
more  accurately. 

G.  Paris  called  'free'  all  final  vowels,  vowels  in  hiatus, 
vowels  followed  by  a  single  consonant,  or  by  the  groups  pr, 
br,  tr,  dr;  and  ' checked'  those  followed  by  any  two  conso- 
nants other  than  those  mentioned.  Then  he  went  on  to  say, 
'  devant  les  groupes  cr,  gr,1  pi,  bl  et  devant  ceux  dont  Fun  des 
Elements  est  un  j,  la  condition  de  la  voyelle  est  variable  et 
demande  &  £tre  e"tudie"e  particuli&rement  dans  chaque  cas.'  A 
comparison  of  this  definition  with  the  paragraphs  in  point  in 
the  different  O.Fr.  Grammars  seems  unnecessary  here.2  Lack 
of  harmony  prevails  in  the  categories  pointed  out  by  G.  Paris, 
namely  in  the  case  of  vowel  -f-  palatal,  or  of  vowel  +  mute  -f 
liquid.  There  is  moreover  evident  a  decided  lack  of  con- 
sistency. For  instance,  every  unprejudiced  reader  will,  accord- 
ing to  Behrens'  definition,  consider  vowel  -f  d,  gl  or  cons,  -f 
j  to  be  free,  while  all  the  examples  in  point  are  invariably 
found  in  paragraphs  treating  of  checked  vowels.  Suchier 
states  that  in  learned  words  d  and  gl  leave  the  preceding 
vowel  free,  yet  on  p.  44  the  remark  is  found,  "  Mehrfach 
steht  ie  in  Romanisch  gedeckter  Silbe  . .  .  siede  saeculum.  .  . ." 

The  question  before  us  is  one  of  terminology,  but  the 
terminology  itself  is  based  upon  a  principle.  In  looking  at 
the  history  of  Latin  vowels  we  are  confronted  with  the 
following  well  known  fact.  Under  certain  conditions  these 
vowels3  retain  their  original  form  while  in  others  they  change. 

1  An  oversight  of  the  punctuation  leads  Menger  (p.  307)  to  distort  the 
definition  of  G.  Paris  in  a  curious  manner. 

8Cf.  Bartsch-Horning,  ChresL,  p.  4;  Schwan,  Grammatik,  1st  ed.  (1888), 
U  49,  50  ;  2nd  ed.  (1893),  $$  55,  56 ;  Schwan-Behrens  (1896),  §  33;  Suchier, 
Allfrz.  Gram.  (1893),  §  6. 

'Following  Menger's  example  we  omit  the  consideration  of  I  and  u, 
because  no  criterion  as  to  their  free  or  checked  nature  can  be  gathered  from 
their  history. 


VOWELS   IN   GALLIC   POPULAR    LATIN.  5 

Leaving  out  of  account  those  doubtful  cases  which  have  given 
rise  to  the  obscurity  which  prevails,  we  notice  that  when  the 
vowel  changes  (diphthongizes)  it  ends  the  syllable,  as  fa-ba  > 
fe-ve,  ve-la  >  vei-le,  go-la  >  gou-le,  f<?-ra  >  fie-re,  prg-bat 
>  prue-vet.  When  it  remains  the  syllable  is  closed  by  a 
consonant,  as  ar-ma  >  ar-me,  ver-ga  >  ver-ge,  mos-ca  > 
mos-che,  te,s-ta  >  tes-te,  pgr-ta  >  por-te.  From  the  large 
number  of  examples  illustrating  this  rule,  we  are  justified  in 
deducing  the  law  that  vowels  in  open  syllables  diphthongize, 
while  those  in  closed  syllables  retain  their  original  sounds  in 
the  earlier  stages  of  the  language.  Those  of  the  first  category 
we  may  call  free  (frei,  libre),  those  of  the  second  category 
checked  (gedeckt,  entrave").  Only  we  must  not  allow  our- 
selves to  be  misled  by  these  terms  and  believe  that  they  denote 
or  describe  processes  of  development  or  non-development, 
which  seems  to  have  been  the  case  and  is  especially  prominent 
in  the  reasoning  of  Menger  and  which  has  determined  the 
results  at  which  he  arrived.  Free  and  checked  as  terms  of 
grammar  merely  describe  linguistic  conditions  and  not  lin- 
guistic processes.  The  later  fate  of  vowels  may  and  often 
does  depend  upon  causes  quite  foreign  to  their  original  sur- 
roundings. 

It  becomes  evident,  therefore,  that  the  true  definition  of 
free  and  checked  vowels  is  dependent  upon  popular  Latin 
syllabification.  Meyer-Liibke  in  his  Grammatik  der  Roma- 
nischen  Sprachen,  §  402,  enumerates  the  following  Popular 
Latin  combinations  of  two  or  more  different  consonants  in 
the  middle  of  the  word  : 

(1).  n  -f-  dental  stop,  or  s,/,  c,  g,  q. 

(2).  m  -f  labial  stop,  or  n. 

(3).  I  -\-  any  consonants  except  r. 

(4).  r  +  any  consonant  except  I. 

(5).  s  -f-  voiceless  stops. 

(6).  Any  stop  +  r. 

(7).  Guttural  +  /. 


6  JOHN   E.    MATZKE. 

(8).  Labial  +  I 

(9).  Guttural  or  labial  +  s. 
(10).  g  +  m  or  n. 
(11).  p  or  c  +  t. 
(12).  b  org  +  d. 

To  these  kw  (=qu)  gw  (=gu),  and  £7,  d7  may  be  added. 
Of  combinations  of  three  or  more  consonants  he  mentions  nctt 
ncSy  ncl,  ngl,  ntr,  nst,  mpt,  mps,  mplj  mbr,  cst,  cstr,  sir,  and  we 
may  add  Itr,  nkw  (=  nqu)  and  ngw  (=  ngu). 

The  Latin  grammarians1  taught  that  a  single  consonant 
between  vowels  belonged  to  the  second  syllable.  Of  two  or 
more  consonants  in  the  same  position  the  sonants  (with  the 
exception  of  m  in  the  combination  mri)  and  the  first  of  two 
geminated  consonants  belonged  to  the  first  syllable.  All  other 
combinations  of  consonants  went  undivided  to  the  second 
syllable.  Examples  are  ta-bu-la,  al-ter,  al-ma,  ar-ma,  com- 
pu-ta-re,  in-fan-tem,  sic-cus,  mit-to,  au-ctu-mnus,  ho-stem, 
a-gmen,  ma-gi-strum,  la-xo,  no-ctem,  sce-ptrum.  Seelmann 
comes  to  the  conclusion  that  Latin  syllabification  was  strictly 
phonetic,2  and  that  these  rules  represent  the  actual  pronuncia- 
tion. If  this  were  true,  Latin  vowels  would  have  stood  in 
open  syllables  in  all  cases,  except  when  the  first  of  two  conso- 
nants was  I,  TJ  m,  w,  and  such  a  condition  of  things  does  not 
at  all  meet  the  needs  of  the  question.  Theoretic  arguments 
could  not  possibly  be  convincing  here,  for  it  is  well-known 
that  different  languages  may  follow  widely  different  methods 
in  the  pronunciation  of  their  consonantal  combinations.  Seel- 
mann refers  in  support  of  his  thesis  to  the  Modern  French 
practice 3  with  regard  to  similar  groups  of  consonants.  The 

1  Cf.  Seelmann,  Die  Aussprache  des  Latein,  p.  137  f. 

* "  Sie  folgten  dabei  den  eingebungen  ihres  articulationsgefiihles,"  I.  c., 
p.  137. 

3 '  Indessen  sind  viele  lat.  worte  mit  solchen  consonanten  complexen  spater 
neu  entlehnt,  und  so  wcnig  bedeutung  sie  auch  fur  die  historische  gram- 
matik  sonst  haben  mogen,  fur  unsere  Zwecke  sind  sie  desto  wertvoller.  Da 
kein  hlstorisch-traditioneller  causal-nexus  zwischen  den  lateinischen  und 


VOWELS   IN   GALLIC   POPULAR   LATIN.  7 

argument  is  sound,  but  it  proves  quite  the  opposite  from  that 
for  which  it  was  intended.  The  combinations  under  discus- 
sion are  consonant  -J-  I  or  r>  combinations  of  which  the  first 
member  is  a  guttural  or  labial  and  s  -\-  consonant.  In  the 
case  of  cons,  -j-  I  or  r  the  preceding  syllable  is  undoubtedly 
open  in  Modern  French  as  it  was  in  Latin,  but  in  the  remain- 
ing combinations  the  end  of  the  first  syllable  falls  after  the 
first  of  the  two  consonants.1  The  Modern  French  pronuncia- 
tion is  not  acce-pter,  a-ctif,  benedi-ction,  but  ak-sep-te  (accepter), 
ak-tif  (actif),  be-ne-dik-sjo  (benediction),  ap-so-lii  (absolu),  ab- 
di-ke  (abdiquer),  pig-me  (pygmee)  mag-de-bur  (Magdebourg), 
di-ag-nos-tik  (diagnostique),  ka-lom-ni  (calomnie).  If  there- 
fore the  modern  usage  is  an  indication  of  the  older  practice, 
the  conclusion  must  be  that  whenever  a  stop  plus  any  other 
consonant  (except  I  or  r)  or  m  -j-  n  come  together,  the  division 
of  the  syllable  was  made  between  the  two  consonants. 

The  case  of  s  -f  cons,  is  peculiar  in  as  much  as  there  is 
direct  evidence  that  in  popular  speech,  the  rule  of  the  gram- 
marians to  the  contrary  notwithstanding,  the  s  was  drawn  over 
into  the  first  syllable.2  The  same  pronunciation  is  moreover 
demanded  by  the  later  history  of  the  vowel  before  s  -|-  cons., 
which  is  always  treated  like  a  checked  vowel.3  In  this  con- 
nection it  is  of  interest  to  point  to  a  remark  made  by  Jenkins, 
1.  c.,  col.  102,  note  12.  The  origin  of  the  prosthetic  e  before 
s  impurum  must  without  question  be  considered  in  connection 
with  this  subject  of  popular  Latin  syllabification.  The  causes 
producing  the  prosthetic  vowel  are  not  satisfied  if  uuu  sposu 
became  unspos  >  u-ne-spos.  The  division  must  have  been 
u-nss-pos  >  u-nes-pos.  But  since  the  prosthetic  vowel  could 

romanischen  orthographisten  besteht,  so  wird  gerade  an  diesem  entlehnten 
gut  die  neuromanische  Eigenart  die  silben  abzuteilen,  am  charakteris- 
tischsten  und  lebendigsten  hervortreten,'  1.  c.,  p.  148-149. 

1  For  a  good  exposition  of  Modern  French  syllabification  from  the 
phonetic  point  of  view,  see  Jenkins,  Mod.  Lang.  Notes,  xn,  col.  96  f. 

2Cf.  Seelmann,Z.  c.,  p.  147. 

3  For  the  exceptions  in  the  case  of  -stj-  and  -strj-,  cf.  below. 


8  JOHN    E.    MATZKE. 

develop  only  after  the  atonic  ultima  had  fallen,  the  evidence 
derived  from  this  development  is  not  necessarily  valid  for  the 
actual  Latin  period.  In  the  modern  language  the  division  of 
the  syllable  in  the  case  of  s  +  cons,  is  also  a  debated  question, 
but  the  best  evidence  seems  to  place  the  s  in  the  preceding 
syllable. 

For  geminated  consonants  or  groups  of  more  than  two 
consonants  no  question  can  arise.  In  the  latter  case  the  first 
consonant  is  usually  n,  m  or  I,  which  must  belong  to  the 
preceding  syllable;  cst,  cstr  and  sir  are  divided  as  jux-ta, 
ex-tra  and  ma-gis-trum. 

The  condition  of  things  in  Popular  Latin  must  therefore 
have  been  as  follows  : 

1.  Open  syllables  are  all  those  followed  by  a  vowel,  by  a 
single  medial  consonant,  or  by  consonant  -f-  I  or  r. 

2.  Closed  syllables  are  all  those  followed  by  I,  r,  w,  m,  s,  ef 
g,  p,  b  -f  consonant. 

3.  Syllables  followed  by  a  geminated  consonant,  or  by  a 
group  of  more  than  two  consonants,  are  invariably  closed. 

We  have  now  reached  the  crucial  point  of  our  argument- 
The  development  of  Latin  vowels  is  subject  to  a  law  which 
was  first  seen  and  formulated  by  ten  Brink  in  his  Dauer  und 
Klang,  1879.  Latin  vowels  were  distinguished  by  the  gram- 
marians according  to  their  grammatical  quantity,  but  in  speech 
quality  is  an  inherent  element  of  quantity.  Long  vowels  have 
a  tendency  to  be  closed,  short  vowels  to  be  open.  That  this 
tendency,  which  has  been  observed  in  other  languages,  actually 
existed  in  Popular  Latin  is  now  generally  held  and  needs  no 
further  proof.  It  would  be  useless  to  speculate  whether 
original  long  vowels  in  open  syllables  were  long  and  closed, 
while  those  in  closed  syllables  were  short  and  closed.  From 
the  point  of  view  of  modern  grammar  this  seems  to  have  been 
the  case.  At  a  certain  period  of  the  language,  now,  which 
we  shall  specify  later,  a  new  process  of  lengthening  and 
shortening  took  place.  All  vowels  in  open  syllables,  that 
were  not  already  long,  were  lengthened,  and  all  vowels  in 


VOWELS   IN   GALLIC   POPULAR   LATIN. 

closed  syllables,  that  were  not  already  short,  were  shortened, 
and  by  this  process  the  list  of  vowels  from  which  the  modern 
sounds  were  to  spring,  was  finally  established.  This  process 
may  be  tabulated  as  follows  : 

OPEN  SYLLABLE. 
CLASSICAL  LATIN.         SPEECH.         POPULAR  LATIN. 

a,  &  a  a 

8,  ae  e 

e,l  ?  \ 

I  i  I 

6  o  5 

0,*  0  0 

u  u  y, 

CLOSED  SYLLABLE. 

a,  d  a  d 

Set 

M  *  « 

I  i  I 

6  'o  f 

o,u  o  0 

u  u  V, 

This  law  was  fundamental  in  its  operation  and  must 
necessarily  affect  all  open  and  closed  syllables  alike.  Free 
and  checked,  as  phonetic  terms,  can  describe  merely  the 
manner  in  which  a  vowel  will  be  affected  by  ten  Brink's  law. 
Vowels  which  according  to  this  law  remain  long  or  are 
lengthened  are  free,  and  vowels  which  remain  short  or 
are  shortened  are  checked.  And  in  as  much  as  this  process 
depends  upon  the  open  or  closed  nature  of  the  syllable,  the 
consonants  which  follow  the  vowel  must  invariably  determine 
the  free  or  checked  nature  of  the  vowel.  This  conception  of 
the  terms  should  do  away  with  all  confusion  and  uncertainty 
in  their  use.  I  have  already  said  that  all  vowels  must  in  the 
nature  of  things  be  affected  alike  by  the  operation  of  this  law. 
If,  for  instance,  the  first  syllable  in  bg-nam,  b^-ne  was  open 
and  the  vowels  therefore  free,  the  same  term  must  be  applied 


10  JOHN   E.    MATZKE. 

to  the  tonic  vowels  in  pa-nem,  ple-num,  regardless  of  their 
final  development;  and  if  the  vowels  are  free  in  preheat,  do,-cet, 
ve,-clum,  fg-liara,  le/-vium,  they  must  be  free  also  in  bra-cam, 
vo-cem,  sole-clum,  consi-lium,  ca-vea.  The  main  point  to  be 
established  will  be  the  open  or  closed  nature  of  the  syllable 
at  the  time  of  operation  of  ten  Brink's  law. 

Its  period  of  operation  has  been  fixed  very  neatly,  and  it 
seems  to  me  unquestionably,  by  Mackel  in  Z.  f.  R.  Ph.,  xx, 
p.  514  f.  On  the  basis  of  a  study  of  German  loan-words  in 
French,  and  of  French  loan-words  in  German,  he  proves  that 
its  active  period  was  in  the  sixth  century.  The  terms  free 
and  checked  can  therefore  be  applied  correctly  only  to  the 
vowels  as  they  existed  at  that  period,  and  it  becomes  neces- 
sary to  determine  the  phonetic  processes  which  had  been 
accomplished  at  that  time,  and  whether  the  relative  condition 
of  open  and  closed  syllables  had  changed.  For  if  a  combi- 
nation of  consonants  closing  a  syllable  in  early  Popular  Latin 
had  become  simplified,  so  that  a  single  consonant  now  occu- 
pied the  place  formerly  filled  by  two  consonants,  or  vice  versa, 
the  nature  of  the  syllable  would  be  changed. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  the  most  important  of  such 
changes.1 

(1).  n  before  s  in  strictly  popular  words  had  fallen  about 
240  B.  c. ;  men-sem  >  me-se,  pen-sare  >  pe-sa-re. 

(2).  In  proparoxytones  the  vowel  of  the  penult  had  fallen 
if  it  stood  between  /  or  r  and  p,  m,  d;  between  s  and  t;  and 
between  mute  and  liquid.  The  examples  are  so  well  known 
that  it  is  unnecessary  to  quote  them  ;  see  Schwan-Behrens, 
§21. 

(3).  ctt  cs(x)  or  kw(qu)  had  become  it,  is  and  iv  respectively. 
Meyer-Liibke,  Grundr.,  I,  p.  367,  puts  the  development  of  ct 
>  xt  before  the  colonization  of  Rhetia.  The  same  early  date 
follows  from  the  Celtic  pronunciation  of  ct;  cf.  Thurneysen, 
Keltoromanisches,  p.  14.  The  Celts  would  naturally  treat 

1  The  material  for  this  list  is  for  the  most  part  taken  from  Meyer-Liibke's 
article  in  Grober's  Grundriss,  Vol.  i. 


VOWELS   IN   GALLIC   POPULAR    LATIN.  11 

Latin  ct  like  their  native  ct.  In  a  similar  way  gd  in  frfgidus 
>  frfg'dus  and  rfgidus  >  rfg'dus  had  become  id. 

(4).  By  assimilation  pt  (or  bt  in  words  like  subtus)  and 
ps  and  rs  had  become  it  or  ss;  rtipta  >  rotta,  capsa  >  cassa, 
dorsum  >  dossu. 

(5).  dj  gl  aijd  t'l,  d'l  had  become  Z.  For  an  attempt  at  a 
more  accurate  dating  see  below. 

(6).   gn  had  become  ft. 

(7).  gm  had  changed  to  um;  cf.  sauma  <  sagma,  peuma  < 
pigma  in  Probi  Appendix. 

(8).  Stops  (p,  ty  c)  before  r  had  probably  become  voiced, 
and  ply  bl  had  changed  to  vl9  with  labio-labial  spirant. 

(9).  Hiatus  j  had  lost  its  syllabic  function  very  early,  and 
palatalized  the  preceding  consonant,  evolving  a  parasitic  i 
before  the  palatalized  consonant.  The  sounds  thus  affected 
are  rj,  tj,  aj,  trj,prj,  brj,  strj,  stj  and  ss;;  Ij  and  nj  become  I 
and  n  and  dj  and  gj  become  j.  No  parasitic  i  appears  in  the 
case  of  bj,  pj,  vj,  cj,  ptj,  ctj,  ttj,  mj,  mnj  and  mbj. 

Through  the  syncope  mentioned  in  (2)  the  number  of  closed 
syllables  is  increased.  All  the  cases  contain  I  or  r  -\-  consonant 
or  s  -f  voiceless  stop.  Where  a  geminated  consonant  results 
through  assimilation  (4)  the  preceding  syllable  remains  closed 
as  before.  On  the  other  hand,  however,  the  number  of  origi- 
nally closed  syllables  is  considerably  lessened,  as  in  (3)  and 
(7),  quite  in  accord  with  the  well-known  tendency  of  the 
language  towards  open  syllables. 

With  these  facts  as  a  basis,  we  may  now  proceed  to  the 
examination  of  the  different  vowel  developments.  Though 
the  difficulty  of  the  problem  is  concentrated  in  one  or  two 
categories,  already  mentioned,  it  will  be  necessary,  in  order  to 
gain  a  clear  conception  of  these  cases,  to  reexamine  the  whole 
question  of  vowel  development  in  all  positions. 

YOWEL  -f  SIMPLE  ORAL  CONSONANT,  EXCEPT  PALATAL. 

Examples  are  fa-ba  ^>fe-ve}  ha-be-re  >>  a-veir,  f¥-dem  > 
f  e-de  >  feit,  co-lo-re  >  cou-lour,  p§-de  >  piet,  nQ-vu  >  nuef. 


12  JOHN   E.    MATZKE. 

These  O.Fr.  values  of  the  Latin  vowels  are  commonly 
accepted  to  be  characteristic  of  free  position,  and  deviations 
from  this  normal  type  are  explained  as  irregular.  While  this 
point  of  view  is  correct,  it  regards  the  whole  question  as  an 
accomplished  fact,  and  does  not  take  into  account  the  nature 
of  the  development  and  its  chronological  order. 

All  changes  of  free  vowels  are  due  in  their  origin  to  the 
length  of  the  vowels,  but  the  nature  of  the  development  is  not 
the  same  in  every  case.  The  change  of  e  to  ie  and  o  >  Ho 
represents  true  vowel  breaking,  and  it  is  immaterial  here 
whether  we  accept  the  row  of  e  =  6$  >  6e  >  ie  and  o  =  od  > 
60  >  tip,  or  whether  we  are  ready  to  believe  with  Meyer- 
Liibke,  Rom.  Gram.,  §  639,  that  these  diphthongs  are  due  to 
the  greater  intensity  which  is  expended  in  producing  a  long 
vowel  in  the  place  of  a  former  short  one ;  in  either  case  we 
have  the  effect  of  dissimilation,  in  that  the  initial  portion  of 
the  articulation  is  dissimilated  from  the  rest.  It  is  different 
however  with  the  change  of  e  >  ei  and  o  >  ou.  These  diph- 
thongs passed  through  the  intermediate  stages  of  &  and  pM, 
which  are  evidently  due  to  this,  that  on  account  of  the  narrow 
position  of  the  tongue  the  characteristic  feature  of  the  articu- 
lation is  emphasized  in  its  second  half,  when  the  articulation 
is  lengthened.  The  change  of  a  >  e  finally  is  quite  different 
from  either  of  these  processes.  Here  we  have  no  diphthong- 
ization  at  all,  but  merely  a  process  of  fronting,  quite  in 
harmony  with  the  general  tendency  of  the  language  to  shift 
the  basis  of  articulation  toward  the  front  of  the  mouth 
(a  >  a  >  e;  >  e  >  e). 

The  relative  age  of  these  processes  is  also  of  importance  in 
our  inquiry.  While  e  and  o  had  changed  to  ie  and  fio  in  the 
sixth  century,  it  is  certain  that  the  development  of  a,  e  and  o 
is  noticeably  younger.  Meyer-Liibke  in  his  Grammatik,  §  644, 
places  it  in  the  eighth  century,  but  he  evidently  hesitates  for 
in  §  648,  only  a  few  pages  further  on,  he  puts  the  change  of 
a,  >  d  a  century  earlier.  This  latter  date,  which  is  based 


VOWELS   IN   GALLIC   POPULAR   LATIN.  13 

upon  the  treatment  of  Germanic  words  in  French,1  is  merely 
a  terminus  post  quern .  In  the  oldest  French  text  free  a  is 
still  written  a ;  cf.  Oaths :  fradre,  fradra,  salvar,  returnar. 
To  be  sure  the  pronunciation  of  this  a  is  a  much  debated 
point,2  but  the  general  acceptation  now  is  that  the  sound  for 
which  it  stands  is  that  of  a  or  e,  i.  e.  a  very  much  palatalized 
a.  If  therefore  we  accept  Meyer-Liibke's  date  of  the  end  of 
the  seventh  or  the  beginning  of  the  eighth  century,  which 
seems  to  be  correct,  the  process  of  fronting  must  have  been 
very  slow  and  gradual.  In  the  case  of  e  and  o,  however, 
Meyer-Liibke's  date  of  the  eighth  century  must  be  rejected. 
In  the  Oaths  e  appears  twice  as  i  (savir,  podir\  and  since  the 
scribe  knew  the  diphthong  ei  and  used  it  in  dreit  (directum), 
the  sound  which  he  wished  to  represent  cannot  have  been  ei. 
The  only  alternative  left  is  that  presented  by  Storm,  Rom.  in, 
p.  289,  that  the  pronunciation  of  e  in  the  Oaths  was  still  e  or 
at  best  &.  In  the  case  of  o  the  matter  is  still  more  compli- 
cated. The  sound  into  which  the  vowel  developed  was 
represented  for  a  long  time  by  o  or  u,  though  the  diphthong 
ou  is  found  as  early  as  the  Eulalie  (bellezour).  In  the 
Oaths  we  find  u  written  (amwr),  and  the  pronunciation  was 
probably  similar  to  that  of  e*  <  e,  viz.,  ou.  In  view  of  these 
facts  it  must  be  accepted  that  the  diphthongs  ei  <<  e  and  ou 
<  o  are  late  and  that  the  vowels  had  only  reached  the  stages 
i?  and  ou  in  the  ninth  century.  The  chronological  order  of 
vowel  changes  in  open  syllables  is  therefore  as  follows : 

e>ie   \ 

6  >  (io  /  VI  centur^ 

a  >  a       vill  century. 

1  >  ^    \  IX  century. 


'Cf.  I.e.,  I  225. 

*Cf.  Koschwitz,  Commentar  zu  den  cUlesten  franzosischen  Denkmdlern,  p. 
11  ff. 


14  JOHN    E.    MATZKE. 


VOWEL  +  SIMPLE  NASAL. 

Examples  are  be-ne  >  bien,  bo-na  >  buene  or  bone,  pa-ne  > 
pain,  ca-ne  >  chien,  ple-na  >pleine,  ra-ce-mu  >  raisin,  ratjo- 
ne  ]>  raisun. 

A  simple  nasal  consonant  between  two  vowels  unquestion- 
ably belongs  to  the  second  syllable,  so  that  the  vowel  preced- 
ing it  must  have  been  lengthened  in  the  sixth  century.  That 
its  further  development  does  not  coincide  with  that  of  vowels 
followed  by  oral  consonants,  is  due  to  the  nasalizing  effect  of 
the  following  consonant.  Everything  will  therefore  depend 
upon  the  time  when  nasalization  took  place.  For  reasons 
which  it  is  not  necessary  to  repeat,  it  was  held  for  a  long  time 
that  this  process  did  not  affect  all  vowels  at  the  same  time, 
but  that  a  and  e  were  affected  first,  and  that  the  other  vowels 
were  attacked  but  gradually.  This  opinion,  which  had  such 
eminent  support  as  that  of  G.  Paris,1  has  now  been  abandoned, 
so  far  as  I  know,  and  it  should  be  given  up  for  the  reason 
that  it  is  unlikely  according  to  the  theory  of  nasalization.  If 
nasal  vowels  were  the  effect  of  a  loose  or  lazy  articulation  of 
the  velum,  which,  when  vowel  -f-  n  came  together,  was  drawn 
forward  into  the  position  for  the  consonant,  while  the  vowel 
was  sounded,  it  follows  that  this  articulation  resulted  when- 
ever vowel  +  n  or  m  came  together,  and  that  all  nasal  vowels 
are  alike  old.  The  age2  of  nasalization  can  be  determined 
quite  accurately  by  a  comparison  with  the  development  of 
oral  vowels.  The  process  must  be  younger  than  the  diph- 
thongization  of  e  and  5,  for  en  and  on  become  ien  and  uon 
respectively.  Since  furthermore  an  becomes  ain,  which  later 
forms  assonance  with  an  <  dn,  it  must  also  be  older  than  the 
change  of  a  >  a.  The  i  in  ain  is  usually  explained  as  being  a 
glide  between  the  nasal  vowel  and  the  consonant.  In  going 
from  a  ton  the  tongue  may  pass  through  the  i-position,  and  this 

1  Cf.  Alexis,  p.  82. 

*Suchier,  Altfrz.  Gram.,  p.  63,  puts  it  into  the  ninth  century  without 
assigning  any  reasons. 


VOWELS   IN   GALLIC   POPULAR   LATIN.  15 

glide  may  develop  into  an  independent  vowel.1  The  same 
considerations  will  explain  the  change  of  en  to  ein.  In  on  on 
the  other  hand  the  tongue  position  was  sufficiently  different 
to  prevent  the  growth  of  an  i-glide,  and  in  ien  and  uon  its 
absence  is  accounted  for  by  the  falling  nature  of  the  diph- 
thongs. The  question  is  however  complicated  by  the  fact 
that  on  later  may  or  may  not  show  a  diphthong,  and  that  in 
the  same  texts.  Suchier,  Gram.,  §  46,  explains  this  o  (==  o) 
as  a  reduction  from  older  uo.  The  explanation  is  possible, 
but  it  presupposes  an  older  pronunciation  uon,  which  is  dis- 
proved by  the  existence  of  uen.  This  latter  form  can  come 
only  from  an  older  uon.  Behrens,  in  the  third  edition  of 
Schwan's  Grammatik,  §  59,  Note,  attributes  bon,  bone  and  the 
pronoun  om  to  the  atonic  use  of  these  words  in  stress  groups ; 
the  noun  om  to  influence  of  the  accusative  omme  (c/mine)  and 
son,  tonent,  etc.,  to  influence  of  ending  accented  forms  from 
the  same  stems.  There  are  two  other  combinations  which 
present  similar  difficulties,  namely,  palatal  -f-  an  or  en  (cane  >> 
chien,  racemu  >  raisin),  where  the  vowels  also  seem  to  have 
developed  exactly  as  before  oral  consonants.  That  palatal  + 
an  in  the  Oaths  is  represented  by  ian  (xpiian)  cannot  prove 
or  disprove  anything,  for  the  orthography  may  be  modeled  on 
the  Latin  or  %piian  may  stand  for  ehrestiidn  as  fradre  for 
frddre. 

Nasalization  in  its  beginnings  probably  did  not  differ  seri- 
ously from  the  much  decried  nasal  twang  in  Modern  English, 
and  while  this  stage  lasted,  the  development  of  vowels  affected 
by  it  must  have  resembled  closely  that  of  oral  vowels.  Thus 
uon  with  loose  nasalization  became  either  uen  or  uon,  and  this 
latter  form  was  soon  reduced  to  uon  >  on,  since  nasalization 
at  first  had  the  effect  of  darkening  the  color  of  the  o,  cf. 
pQnte  ^>pont.  These  doublets  lived  in  the  language  until  for 
the  reasons  advanced  by  Behrens  the  forms  with  diphthongs 
were  crowded  out.  The  reduction  of  iein  to  in  is  also  readily 
understood  on  the  same  supposition  of  a  loose  articulation  of 

1  In  Eulalie  maent  <  manet  the  glide  is  represented  by  an  e. 


16  JOHN    E.    MATZKE. 

the  velum,  and  en  and  on  show  no  departure  from  the  develop- 
ment of  oral  vowels  at  this  period.  Only  palatal  -|-  an  presents 
difficulty.  If  we  place  the  process  of  nasalization  with  Suchier 
in  the  ninth  century,  when  a  had  become  d,  the  pronunciation 
of  ain  remains  unexplained,  and  on  the  other  hand  we  know 
that  iai  elsewhere  is  not  reduced  to  ie  but  to  i,  cf.  jacet  >  gist. 
Under  these  circumstances  the  following  considerations  seem 
valid.  The  process  of  fronting  of  the  a  was  evidently  a  very 
slow  one,  and  it  must  be  presumed  that  not  all  d's  were  affected 
at  the  same  time.  The  first  to  move  were  those  standing  after 
a  palatal,  as  cane  >  k'a-ne,  christianu  >  krestjd-nu,  while  pane 
was  still  pronounced  pa-ne.  Now  nasalization  occurred  and 
crystalized  this  condition  of  things ;  pa-ne  becomes  pain  and 
krd-ne  is  changed  to  kfidn  >  chien.  On  this  supposition  a  stage 
Jc'Wn  or  Jc'Wn  is  unnecessary,  and  %piian  in  the  Oaths  finds  a 
ready  explanation  as  chrestiidn.  We  should  also  thus  gain  an 
additional  means  of  dating  the  process,  which,  if  our  position  is 
correct,  must  have  taken  place  simultaneously  with  the  earliest 
changes  of  a  >>  d,  i.  e.,  towards  the  end  of  the  seventh  or  the 
beginning  of  the  eighth  century. 

The  whole  history  of  these  vowels,  however,  demands  long 
vowels  as  points  of  departure.  On  this  supposition  alone  can 
the  glides  and  diphthongs  be  explained.  Hence  it  follows 
that  all  vowels  before  simple  nasals  were  free.  When  the 
nasal  consonant  was  followed  by  another  consonant,  the  vowel 
was  checked  and  remained  short,  and  its  lack  of  glide  is  the 
result  of  its  quantity. 

VOWEL  +  SIMPLE  PALATAL. 

Examples  are  pre-cat  >  priet,  ba-ca  >  baie,  ptt-cat  >  pie- 
cat  >  pleiet,  ne-gat  >  niet,  pla-ga  >  plaie,  tt-gat  >  le-gat  > 
leiet,  trp-ja  >  truie,  pre-co  >pri,  pa-co  >  pai,  *  vera-cu  >  verai, 
de-ce  >  dis,  dp-cet  >  duist,  pla-cet  >  plaist,  vl-cem  >  ve-ce 
^>feiz,  vo-ce  >  voiz. 

The  words  belonging  here  have  c,  g,j  before  a,  o,  u  and  c 
or  g  before  e  or  i.  As  far  as  the  history  of  these  consonants 


VOWELS   IN    GALLIC   POPULAR   LATIN.  17 

is  concerned,  it  seems  certain  that  c  before  e  and  i  in  the  sixth 
century  had  still  the  value  of  a  pure  palatal  stop.  There  is 
no  evidence  of  any  change  in  its  articulation  before  the  seventh 
century.1  As  to  g  in  the  same  position  the  matter  is  not  so 
certain,  and  it  is  quite  possible  that  it  had  become  the  spirant^' 
in  early  Popular  Latin,2  and  this  was  its  sound  still  in  the  sixth 
century.  The  voicing  of  medial  stops,  according  to  which 
cft  went  through  g  ^>j  >  i,  is  placed  generally  towards  the 
end  of  the  seventh  century.  Whether  the  change  of  ce~* 
to  its  (iz)  or  is  belongs  to  the  same  period,  it  is  impossible 
to  say,  but  the  presumption  must  be  that  the  interval  between 
the  two  developments  was  very  small.  The  parasitic  i  in 
either  case  had  certainly  developed  before  the  fronting  of 
a  >  d.  The  tonic  syllables  were  therefore  in  every  instance 
open,  and  the  vowels  free. 

Their  further  history  is  determined  by  the  growth  of  the 
parasitic  i,  which  falls  after  the  diphthongization  of  e  and  o 
and  before  the  changes  of  a,  e,  o.  Thus  e  and  5  became  either 
id  and  uoi  (necat  >  nieiet,  trpja  >  truoie)  or  ieit'  >  ieiz  and 
uoit'  >  uoiz  (dece  >  dieit'e  >  dieize,  dpcet  >  duoit'et  >  duoizet) 
while  d,  e,  o  could  only  form  falling  diphthongs  with  the 
parasitic  i  (plaga  >  plaie,  pace  >  pait'e,  lege  >  leie,  voce  > 
voit'e).  If  the  a  stood  between  palatals  a  triphthong  arose  in 
this  way,  as  in  jacet  >>  giait'et  >  giaizet.  Each  category  now 
goes  its  own  way.  The  triphthongs  are  reduced  (dieize  >>  dis, 
giaizet  >>  gist,  duoizet  >>  duist),  and  the  diphthongs  develop  as 
diphthongs,  and  their  history  now  differs  from  that  of  simple 
d,  ?,  Q.  But  to  conclude  from  this  difference  in  development 
that  the  vowels  were  not  free,  or  the  syllables  not  open,  would 
be  wrong  in  principle.3 

1  Cf.  G.  Paris,  L' alteration  romane  du  c  latin,  Paris,  1893. 

2  Cf.  Meyer-Liibke,  Grundr.,  i,  p.  363,  and  Schwan-Behrens,  \  28. 

3  The  words  ending  in  -cum  and  -gum,  as  locu,  fagu,  should  be  briefly  dis- 
cussed at  this  point,  but  their  history  is  altogether  too  obscure  to  figure  in 
the  argument. 

2 


18  JOHN   E.    MATZKE. 


VOWEL  +  COMPLICATED  PALATAL. 

Examples  are  le.ctu  >  lit,  ngcte  >  nuit,  factu  >  fait,  tectu 
>  teit,  se,x  >  sis,  cQxa  >  cuisse,  laxat  >  laisset,  e,qua  >  ive 
aqua  >  aive. 

The  combinations  of  palatal  -f-  consonant  belonging  here 
are  ct,  cs(x)  and  kw(qu).  In  all  these  cases  the  palatal  had 
been  vocalized  quite  early  (see  p.  10  above),  and  this  vocali- 
zation had  given  rise  to  the  diphthongs  eif  pi,  ai,  ei,  oi.  The 
division  of  syllables  was  now  lei-tu,  noi-te,  coi-se,  ei-ve,  tei- 
tu,  etc. 

In  the  further  history  of  these  words  identity  of  develop- 
ment with  words  whose  tonic  vowel  is  followed  by  a  single 
palatal  is  possible  only  when  the  tonic  vowel  is  a,  e,  o.  In  the 
case  of  e  and  o  the  early  development  was  different.  On  the  one 
hand  we  have  ie,  uo  -|-  palatal  becoming  iei,  uoi,  on  the  other  ei 
and  pi  change  to  iei  and  uoi.  Two  explanations  are  current 
for  this  phenomenon.  Schwan  and  Behrens1  state  that  after 
the  vocalization  of  c  >  i,  e  and  o  had  become  free,  and  de- 
veloped therefore  as  free  vowels.  The  objection  to  this  point 
of  view  lies  in  the  fact  that  the  vowels  were  no  longer  simple 
e  and  o  but  the  diphthongs  ei  and  pi,  and  such  notations  as 
no*te,  cotsse  really  distort  the  true  nature  of  the  problem.  The 
other  explanation 2  separates  the  diphthongization  of  e  and  o 
in  these  cases  from  that  which  came  about  as  the  result  of 
the  lengthening  of  free  vowels,  and  sees  the  cause  of  the 
diphthong  in  the  following  j.  Meyer-Liibke,  I.  c.,  §  639, 
supports  this  opinion  by  the  statement  that  the  Provenpal, 
which  ordinarily  does  not  diphthongize  e  and  o  agrees  here 
with  the  French.3  Since  the  distance  between  the  two  lan- 

1  Cf.  Schwan,  Gram''1,  %  56,  Anm.  and  Schwan -Behrens,  \  33-3,  Anna. 

•Of.  Suchier,  Grundr.,  i,  p.  574,  and  Meyer-Lubke,  Rom.  Gram.,  $$  154, 
189,  639. 

3  The  history  of  o  in  Provenfal  is  full  of  obscurities,  but  the  diphthong 
is  found  not  only  before,;,  but  also  under  other  conditions;  cf.  Ruchier, 
Grundr.,  I,  p.  574. 


VOWELS   IN  GALLIC  POPULAR  LATIN.  19 

guages  grows  wider  the  nearer  we  approach  more  modern 
times,  it  follows  that  linguistic  processes  in  which  they  agree 
are  very  old ;  hence  piejts  (<  pe^ctus)  falls  in  the  time  before, 
pied  (<  pe,dem)  in  the  time  after  their  separation.  That  this 
argument  is  not  sound,  appears  from  the  fact  that  phonetic 
processes  can  be  found  in  which  the  two  languages  agree, 
and  which  are  certainly  younger  than  the  change  of  e  >  ie,  as 
for  instance  the  voicing  of  medial  stops  and  the  fronting  of  c 
before  e  and  i. 

The  main  reason  for  a  separation  of  this  process  from  the 
general  diphthongization  of  e  and  o  lies  in  the  fact  that  before 
an  i  the  diphthongs  appear  also  in  closed  syllables.  These 
are  the  syllables  containing  e  and  o  before  stj,  so)  and  strj,  as 
be^stja  >  bisse,  ne,scju  >  nice,  Qstju  >  huis,  gstrja  >  huistre. 
The  true  explanation  seems  to  me  to  lie  in  the  fact  already 
mentioned  that  the  syllables  under  discussion  did  not  contain 
simple  vowels  but  diphthongs.  Diphthongs  are  naturally 
longer  than  simple  vowels,  and  this  inherent  length  can 
readily  have  been  increased  at  the  time  when  other  vowels 
in  open  syllables  were  lengthened.  That  the  diphthong 
should  share  the  same  fate  also  in  a  closed  syllable  need  not 
appear  strange.  The  examples  of  that  kind  are  very  few  in 
number,  and  the  lengthening  there  may  be  due  to  simple 
phonetic  analogy,  or  to  the  fact  that  diphthongs  are  lengthened 
more  readily  than  simple  vowels. 

If  it  be  objected  that  this  explanation  is  made  ad  hoc,  to 
fit  this  particular  case,  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that  Meyer- 
Liibke's  explanation  is  of  exactly  the  same  nature.  The 
diphthong  is  attributed  to  thej  only  because  aj  follows  e  and 
o  in  the  words  under  discussion,  but  the  physiological  process 
involved,  by  which  such  a  j  broke  a  preceding  e  and  o,  has 
not  been  demonstrated  so  far.  On  the  other  hand,  if  the  view 
of  the  problem  presented  here  be  correct,  it  is  no  longer 
necessary  to  separate  phenomena  identical  in  their  results, 
which  ought  therefore  to  be  presumably  identical  also  in 
their  causes.  Similar  diphthongs,  but  of  different  origin, 


20  JOHN    E.    MATZKE. 

existed  in  the  language  in  the  sixth  century,  and  their  further 
development  was  identical  with  that  discussed  here.  These 
have  as  second  element  i  or  w,  which  formed  hiatus  with  the 
tonic  vowel,  as  in  mej,  [iljlej,  me.u,  de_u,  and  here  we  find 
the  triphthong  in  both  Proven9al  and  French ;  cf.  Prov. 
miei,  lieis,  mieu,  dieu,  Fr.  mi,  li,  *  mieu  (cf.  Pic.  mine),  dieu. 
To  explain  the  change  of  e  >  ie  in  these  words  as  simply  due 
to  the  development  of  simple  vowels  in  open  syllables,  would 
not  be  correct,  for  these  words  had  been  monosyllabic  since 
early  Popular  Latin  times.  Parallel  cases  for  oi  do  not  exist, 
nor  are  these  diphthongs  ever  found  in  originally  closed 
syllables,  but  these  facts  could  not  be  construed  as  disproving 
the  explanation  attempted  here.  Thus  Zi  and  tii  become  ei, 
oi  >•  ieit  uoi  >>  i,  ui.  That  di,  &i,  8i  >*  di,  $i,  gi  show  no 
results  of  this  lengthening  is  due  partly  to  the  late  develop- 
ment of  a,  e,  p,  and  partly  to  the  fact  that  in  the  case  of  $ 
and  Q  the  added  elements  would  come  to  stand  between  the 
vowel  and  the  i. 

If  this  explanation  is  accepted,  it  will  be  necessary  to 
extend  the  influence  of  ten  Brink's  law  to  falling  diph- 
thongs which  existed  in  the  language  in  the  sixth  century, 
regardless  of  the  nature  of  the  syllable  in  which  they  stood, 
and  palatalized  consonants  before  which  the  diphthongs  appear 
in  Proven9al  must  be  looked  upon  as  favoring  diphthongiza- 
tion,  but  not  as  causing  it. 

VOWEL  -f  CONSONANT  -\-j. 

The  linguistic  process  which  these  combinations  underwent 
is  so  well  known,  that  a  few  words  will  serve  our  purpose. 
The  hiatus  i  had  early  lost  its  syllabic  function,  and  become 
a  semi-consonant.  The  palatal  articulation  thus  produced 
now  attacks  the  preceding  consonant  and  draws  it  completely 
into  or  near  to  its  own  region  of  articulation  ;  in  other  words 
it  palatalizes  it.  The  on-glide,  which  must  precede  such 
palatalized  consonants,  soon  becomes  an  independent  factor  in 


VOWELS   IN   GALLIC  POPULAR    LATIN.  21 

the  word  and  appears  before  the  consonant  as  a  parasitic  i. 
When  this  is  done,  the  consonant,  as  though  all  its  palatal 
life  had  been  exhausted  in  the  production  of  the  parasitic  iy  is 
pushed  forward  out  of  the  palatal  into  the  dental  region. 
Everything  points  to  a  very  early  period,  probably  the  second 
or  third  century,  as  the  time  when  this  process  of  palataliza- 
tion took  place.  In  the  fourth  century  its  results  are  recog- 
nized by  the  grammarians.1  There  can  be  little  question  that 
the  different  consonants  which  came  under  its  influence  did  not 
all  succumb  with  equal  readiness.  Meyer-Liibke,  Grundr., 
I,  p.  364,  says  Ij  and  nj  were  palatalized  first,  and  gj,  dj,2  tj,  ay 
followed  somewhat  later. 

The  actual  time  of  the  process,  since  it  certainly  was  com- 
pleted before  the  sixth  century,  is  of  less  importance  for  our 
present  purpose  than  the  results  which  were  obtained.  When- 
ever the  preceding  consonant  was  palatalized,  the  result  was 
a  simple  sound,  produced  with  a  single  effort  of  articulation, 
and  as  such  it  became  the  initial  element  of  the  following 
syllable,  leaving  the  vowel  before  it  free.  Here,  however,  a 
new  element  must  be  drawn  into  the  discussion.  Looking 
for  the  present  only  at  those  cases  where  a  single  consonant 
preceded  the  j  in  Latin,  we  find  the  following  categories : 

1.  The  palatalization  has  disappeared,  leaving  a  parasitic  i. 

2.  The  palatalization  has  remained. 

3.  Hiatus  i(j)  became  the  palatal  spirant  j. 

Each  of  these  cases  must  be  considered  separately.  A  single 
example  for  every  vowel  will  suffice  by  way  of  illustration. 
Where  the  example  is  lacking,  the  language  does  not  have  it. 
Completeness  has  been  aimed  at  only  where  the  problem 
required  it,  and  I  hope  that  nothing  of  importance  has  been 
overlooked. 

1.  The  palatalization  has  disappeared,  leaving  a  parasitic  i. 
Here  belong  tj,  dj,  y,  gj,  rj  and  final  nj. 

lCf.  Seelmann,  /.  c.,  p.  320. 

aBehrens,  /.  c.,  §  21-3,  Anm.,  and  28-3,  says  with  great  probability  that 
gj  and  dj  had  become  j  in  early  Popular  Latin. 


22  JOHN    E.    MATZKE. 


tj  —  prejju  >  pris,  *  pQtjo  >^m's,  palatju  >palais,  -etja  > 
else  (proeise),  lotju  >  lois. 

dj  —  me,dju  >  mi,  mgdju  >  mui,  radju  >  rai,  vedjat  >  veie. 

sj  —  cer^sja  >  cerise,  basju  >  bais,  ardesja  >  ardeise. 

gj  —  rQgju  >  rui,  exagju  >  essai,  corregja  >  correie. 

rj  —  mat^rja  >  matire,  cgrju  >  cuir,  varju  >  vair,  ferja  > 
feire,  dormitorju  >  dortoir. 

nj  —  ingQnju  >  engin,  cumpanjo  >>  connpaing,  conju  >  coin. 

An  examination  of  these  examples  shows  conditions  identi- 
cal with  those  prevailing  in  the  case  of  vowel  -f-  complicated 
palatal.  The  history  of  these  words  must  therefore  have  been 
identical  with  the  development  discussed  there,  and  since  the 
palatalized  consonants  are  formed  by  a  single  articulation  of 
the  tongue,  the  diphthongs  $i,  pi,  ai,  ei,  oi  stood  in  open 
syllables. 

2.  The  palatalization  has  remained.     Here  belong  Ij  and 
medial  nj,  but  in  as  much  as  the  history  of  vowel  -(-  I  or  n  is 
not  influenced  by  the  sources  of  these  sounds,  the  discussion 
may  be  deferred  for  the  present,  cf.  below  p.  27. 

3.  Hiatus  j  became  the  palatal  spirant  j.     Here  belong  pj, 
bj,  vj,  mj,  cj.     Two   words   with  fj   (kupphja  >  coiffe  and 
*grafja  >  graiffe  >  greffe)   are   too   irregular   to   affect   the 
argument. 

pj  —  *pro.pju  >proche,  sapja  >  sache,  sepja  >  seche. 
bj  —  *rabja  >  rage,  robju  >  rouge,  gobja  >  gouge. 
vj  —  IQVJU  >  liege,  *tre,vju  >  triege,  *gre,vju  >  grege,  abbre,- 
vjat  >>  abrieget,  cavja  >  cage,  nevja  >>  nege   (neige), 
vedovju  >  O.  Fr.  veduge  >  Mod.  Fr.  vouge. 
mj  —  vendemia  >  vendange. 

cj  —  *spe,cia  >  espece  and  espice,  Gre,cja  >  Grece  and  Grice, 
Galle,cja  >  Gallice,  facja  >/ace  (fosse),  solacju  >  solaz, 
*trecja  >•  trece  (tresse),  -ecja  >>  ece. 

It  is  evident  that  wherever  a,  e,  o  stand  before  any  of  the 
combinations  mentioned,  their  development  is  unquestionably 
that  of  checked  vowels,  and  we  may  conclude  that  labial  -f  j 
or  c  -\-j  checked  the  tonic  vowel.  In  view  of  this  fact  it 


VOWELS    IN   GALLIC   POPULAR   LATIN.  23 

may  well  be  doubted,  whether  the  palatalization  of  labials 
first  demanded  by  Neumann,1  ever  really  existed  in  France. 
It  is  well  known  that  those  consonants  which  are  articulated 
near  the  palatal  orj  region,  are  most  readily  palatalized.  The 
greater  the  distance  between  the  two  articulations,  the  greater 
will  be  the  struggle  against  a  complete  amalgamation  of  the 
two  sounds.  Now  in  the  case  of  labial  -j-j,  though  the  tongue 
be  placed  in  j  position  while  the  labial  is  produced,  the  two 
articulations  will  remain  distinct  in  nature ;  the  effect  of  the 
palatal  articulation  is  not  heard  until  the  labial  articulation  is 
broken,  and  its  acoustic  quality  is  that  of  the  palatal  spirant. 
The  final  result  is  is  or  dz,  showing  that  a  palatal  stop  must 
have  developed  before  this  palatal  spirant.  This  I  think  is 
due  to  a  partial  assimilation  of  the  whole  articulatory  effort. 
The  energy  expended  in  the  labial  stop  is  transferred  from 
the  lips  to  the  dental  region  and  at  the  same  time  the  spirant 
is  drawn  forward,  so  that  labial  -j- j  becomes  is  or  dz.  In 
this  new  combination,  however,  the  moment  of  minimum 
expiratory  stress  fell  between  the  two  articulations,  and  as  a 
consequence  the  preceding  vowel  was  checked. 

The  case  of  c  -\-j  is  strictly  similar.  Since  c  maintained 
its  articulation  as  a  pure  post-palatal  or  medio-palatal  stop 
until  the  seventh  century,  a  following  j  could  become  only  a 
palatal  spirant.  The  result  was  the  combination  kj,  which 
checked  the  preceding  vowel.  Later  when  k  became  fronted, 
the  whole  articulation  passed  rapidly  to  fe,  but  its  effect  on 
the  preceding  vowel  did  not  change.2  The  vowel  remained 
checked. 

Difficulties  are  found  in  the  words  where  £  or  o  precede 
the  combinations  in  question.  In  those  words  the  diphthongs 
appear  so  regularly  as  to  be  almost  fatal  to  the  view  advanced 

lZur  Laut-  und  Flexionslehre  des  Altfranzosischen  (1878),  p.  25. 

'The  difference  in  development  between  cj  >ts  and  c*  —  i>its  or  is  lies  in 
the  different  points  of  departure;  cj  was  kfj  while  <?-*  was  A/.  It  will  be 
seen  below  that  with  the  exception  of  slj,  sq,  ss?  and  strj  a  parasitic  i  never 
appears  in  the  case  of  a  checked  vowel. 


24  JOHN   E.    MATZKE. 

here,  and  these  difficulties  are  increased  by  the  small  number 
of  words  and  the  consequent  lack  of  any  possibility  for  com- 
parison. By  the  side  of  the  regular  proche  we  find  forms 
like  repruece,  C.  Ps.,  68-17,  reproece,  Bol.,  1076.  Suchier, 
Gram.,  §  13-c,  attributes  the  diphthong  to  the  following  c, 
an  explanation  which  it  is  difficult  to  prove  or  disprove, 
because  similar  examples  are  lacking  in  the  language.  Since 
the  diphthong,  however,  appears  also  in  the  forms  of  the  verb 
tordre  (<  tftrquere),  where  the  vowel  is  certainly  checked,  it 
becomes  evident  that  it  is  not  due  to  the  free  position  of  the 
vowel.  Where  $  precedes  vj,  the  simple  vowel  appears  only 
in  the  stem  grgvj-.1  Whether  the  diphthong  in  the  other 
examples,  however,  can  be  used  to  prove  that  %  in  this  position 
was  free,  must  remain  doubtful.  There  are  other  well  known 
examples  in  French,  where  the  diphthong  ie  appears  in  closed 
syllable,  as  fierge,  cierge,  tierz,  vierge,  and  it  may  be  due  here 
to  the  same  cause.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  not  impossible 
that  liege,  owing  to  its  signification,  was  influenced  by  the 
stem  accented  forms  of  lever  <  levare,  as  abrieget  may  be 
under  the  influence  of  brief  <  bre. ve.  The  history  of  triege 
finally  has  not  at  all  been  definitely  established.  By  its  side 
we  have  tries  or  triez 2  with  identical  meaning,  and  the  two 
words  will  probably  have  to  be  explained  in  the  same  way. 
Espiee,  Grice  and  Galilee  present  similar  difficulty.  If  the 
tonic  vowel  derives  from  an  older  triphthong  iei,  we  have  to 
account  for  the  double  irregularity  of  the  diphthong  and  the 
presence  of  the  parasitic  i.  Fortunately  we  have  the  regular 
forms  espece  and  Grece,  so  that  espice,  Grice,  Galilee  may  be 
safely  set  aside  as  irregular  forms. 

The  conclusion  must  be  that  labial  or  c  +j  checked  the 
preceding  vowel.  The  evidence  is  conclusive  for  a,  e,  o,  and 
the  irregularities  in  the  case  of  $  and  o  must  find  their  expla- 
nation outside  of  the  free  or  checked  nature  of  the  vowel. 

1For  agreger  cf.  Behrens,  Unorganische  Lautvertretung,  p.  51. 
*  Cf.  Godefroy,  s.  v.     Note  also  the  variants  triaige  and  triage  cited  ibid., 
8.  v.,  triege. 


VOWELS   IN   GALLIC   POPULAR   LATIN.  25 


MORE  THAN  ONE  CONSONANT  -\-  j. 

The  combinations  of  two  or  more  consonants  -}-j  also  fall 
into  two  classes,  according  to  the  development  or  non-develop- 
ment of  a  parasitic  i. 

A  parasitic  i  develops  in  the  following  cases : 
stj  —  b^stja  '>  bisse   or   biche,    *  Qstju  >  huis,   pgstj(a)  > 
puis,  angostjat  >  angoisset,  frostjat  >>  froisset. 

scj  —  ne,scja  >  nice  or  niche,  fascja  >  faisse. 

ssj  —  grQssja  >  groisse,  grassia  >  graisse,  spessjat  >>  es- 
peissetj  spessjo  >  espm. 

6r;  —  e,briu  >  ivre. 

prj  —  cQprju  >  cuivre. 
trj  —  repatrjo  >  repair. 

strj  —  Qstrju  >  huistre. 

nxj  —  anxja  >  ainse. 

It  is  evident  from  the  examples  given  above  that  scy  does 
not  have  the  same  history  as  cj.  The  former  is  closely  paral- 
lel to  that  of  stj.  For  this  Meyer-Liibke,  Rom.  Gram.,  §  509, 
posits  the  row  st'  >  skf  >  m,  but  a  stage  sk'  does  not  seem 
necessary  for  the  reason  that  iss  can  develop  readily  from  stfj. 
In  view  of  the  fact  that  simple  cj  did  not  develop  a  parasitic 
i  and  remained  k'j  until  after  the  sixth  century,  it  is  necessary 
to  accept  an  earlier  fronting  for  the  c,  when  it  was  preceded 
by  an  s,  and  the  cause  of  this  fronting  must  lie  in  the  front 
articulation  of  the  s.  Thus  sej  became  early  sk'j  >  st'j  >  iss. 
The  parasitic  i  forms  a  falling  diphthong  with  the  tonic 
vowel.  The  further  history  of  these  diphthongs  and  the 
triphthongization  of  ej,  >>  id  >  i  and  pi  >  uei  >  ui  have 
already  been  commented  on  above.  Only  grgssja  >  groisse 
forms  a  noteworthy  exception.  The  syllables  were  closed 
in  all  cases,  except  where  mute  -f  r  follows  after  the  tonic 
vowel. 

The  parasitic  i  is  absent  in  the  following  cases : 
rtj  —  te,rtju  >  tierz,  *scgrtja  >  escorce,  fgrtja  >  force. 


26  JOHN   E.    MATZKE. 

rcj  —  *fe_rcja  >  fierce,  fierche,  fierge,  *orcja  >  urce  (ourse). 
rdj  —  Qrdju  >  orge. 
rig  —  ce,rvja  >  cierge. 
Itj  —  exaltj  at  >  esaleet. 
Icy  —  calcja  >  chalce  (chausse). 
Ivy  —  salvja  >  salge  (sauge),  alvja  >  auge. 
ntj  —  infantja  >  enfanee,    cad^ntja  >>  chedance    (chance), 

-antja  >  -ance,  bat  antjus  >  ainz. 
nvj  —  lancja  >  lance,  Francja  >  France,  *oncja  >  once, 
mry  —  SQmnju  >>  songe,  calomnia  >  chalonge. 
mbj  —  cambjas  >  changes,  *lombja  >  longe. 
ccj  —  *crQccja  >  croce  (crosse).1 
j9^  —  O.H.G.  krippja  >  creche, 
ttj  —  *pettja  >  piece,  Scgttja  >  Escoce,  mattja  >  mace, 

plattja  >  place. 

ptj  —  n^ptja  >•  niece,  ngptjas  >>  noces,  captjat  >  chaces. 
ctj  —  tract)  at  >•  tracet. 

All  combinations  with  r,  ^,  n,  m  as  first  member  may  be 
eliminated  as  certainly  checking  the  preceding  vowel.  The 
only  exceptions  are  tierz,  cierge,  fierce,  fierge,  where  the  diph- 
thong has  so  far  defied  explanation,  but  can  under  no  circum- 
stances be  due  to  original  lengthening.  Of  the  remaining 
combinations  ptj  and  ctj  became  early  ttj,  passing  thus  into 
the  category  of  geminated  consonants  where  a  check  is  the 
rule.  The  two  seeming  exceptions  piece  and  niece  are  usually 
explained  as  being  due  the  former  to  the  influence  of  pied 
(<  pe.de)  the  latter  to  that  of  nies  (<  ne,pos). 

Thus  when  two  consonants  precede  the  j,  the  tonic  vowel 
is  checked,  except  when  the  consonants  are  mute  -f  r  (brj,prj, 
trj).  Seeming  exceptions  are  those  combinations  which  develop 
a  parasitic  i,  but  here  the  development  depends  upon  the 
diphthongal  nature  of  the  tonic  syllable,  and  not  upon  the 
combination  of  consonants  which  follows  it. 

1  Cf.  Forster,  Z.f.  E.  Ph.,  n,  p.  85. 


VOWELS    IN   GALLIC   POPULAR    LATIN.  27 


VOWEL  +  /  OR  n. 

I.     The  following  examples  will  serve  as  illustrations : 
Ij  —  me.ljus  >  mielus  >  mielz,     fglja  >  fueille,     palja  > 
paille,  conselju  >  conseil,  telja  >  teille,  colju  >  coil. 

c'l  —  Qc'lu  >  oeil,    trabac'lu  >  travail,     mac'la  >  maille, 
solec'lu  >  soldi,  genoc'lu  >  genoil,  genuil. 

g'l  —  trag'la  >  traille,  reg'la  >  reille. 

Pj  —  *cQllijis  >  cuoillis  >  cuelz,  *cQllijo  >  cueil. 

fl  —  bajulat  >  bailie, 
t'l  —  ve.t'lus  >  vielus  >  vielz,  ve,t'lu  >  vieil,  set'la  >  seille. 

d'l  —  radula  >  raille. 

Noticeable  uncertainty  prevails  in  regard  to  the  history 
of  vowel  -{-  I.  It  seems  to  be  generally  accepted  that  an  / 
checks  the  preceding  vowel,  but  since  £  and  o  diphthongize  in 
this  position  it  is  usually  added  that  these  vowels  develop 
here  as  though  they  stood  in  free  position,1  or  that  the  diph- 
thong is  due  to  the  palatal  value  of  the  /.2 

It  is  not  easy  to  decide  how  far  back  the  development  of 
d,  gl  >  /  reaches.  The  Appendix  Probi,  which  contains  the 
often  cited  examples  for  the  development  of  fl  >>  cl,  veclus 
capiclum,  etc.,  was  written  according  to  the  best  authorities 
towards  the  end  of  the  third  century.3  The  development  of 
of  Ij  and  nj  >  /  and  n  is  placed  by  Meyer-Liibke,  Grundr.,  I, 
p.  364,  as  early  as  the  second  century.  This  date  is  based 
upon  Grober's  well  known  theory  in  Arch.  Lot.  Lex.,  I,  p. 
210  ff.,  and  rests  upon  the  absence  of  the  sounds  in  Sardinian. 
Though  this  line  of  reasoning  is  not  safe  in  all  cases,  there 
can  be  no  objection  in  this  instance,  and  it  is  made  all  the 
more  probable  by  the  great  affinity  which  exists  between  /  or 
n  and  j.  In  that  case,  however,  it  follows  that  /  <  cl,  gl  is 
decidedly  younger,  for  at  the  end  of  the  third  century  we  have 

^f.  Schwan-Behrens,  /.  c.,  §  48,  Anm.,  and  §  60,  Anm. 
8Cf.  Suchier,  Grundr.,  I,  p.  574,  and  Meyer-Liibke,  Rom.  Gram.,  $$  154 
and  189. 

3  Cf.  G.  Paris,  R<m.,  xvi,  p.  625,  and  Forster,  Wiener  Studien,  1892,  p.  316. 


28  JOHN    E.    MATZKE. 

the  above  mentioned  evidence  of  the  Appendix  Probi  that  c'l 
and  t'l  were  becoming  identical,  i.  e.,  that  the  assimilation, 
which  produced  I  as  final  result,  had  set  in.  Whether  this 
development  was  complete  in  the  sixth  century,  can  only  be 
surmised,  but  there  is  no  reason  to  believe  the  contrary,  though 
the  oldest  examples  of  /  =  el  found  so  far,  belong  to  the  eighth 
century.1 

Since  an  I  is  produced  by  a  single  articulation  of  the  tongue, 
it  must  necessarily  introduce  the  following  syllable.  Hence  it 
follows  that,  unless  the  diphthongization  of  $  and  o  in  these 
words  is  older  than  the  sixth  century,  and  due  to  the  palatal 
nature  of  the  7,  all  vowels  preceding  this  consonant  stood  in 
open  syllables  and  were  free.  The  explanation  which  sees 
the  cause  of  the  diphthongs  in  the  /  is  difficult  to  refute,  for 
reasons  already  stated  in  our  discussion  of  vowel  -f  compli- 
cated palatal.  But  it  seems  to  me  that  all  the  problems 
involved  can  be  satisfactorily  explained  on  the  basis  that  the 
vowel  in  this  position  was  free  and  that  it  was  lengthened, 
when  all  vowels  in  open  syllables  were  lengthened.  The 
difficulties  lie  in  the  absence  of  the  parasitic  i  and  the  seeming 
evidence  of  the  modern  forms  that  a,  e,  o  developed  as  in 
checked  position. 

Menger,  /.  c.,  p.  327,  rejects  the  possibility  of  a  pronuncia- 
tion -a?7,  -eil,  -oil  for  the  reason  that  then  -ieil  and  -ueilmust 
also  have  existed,  and  these  would  have  been  reduced  to  -il 
and  -nil.  He  overlooks,  however,  the  fact  that  the  parasitic  i 
before  /  was  of  an  altogether  different  nature  from  that  which 
developed  from  other  consonants.  In  the  case  of  t',  «',  rr  the 
consonants,  after  the  growth  of  the  parasitic  i,  early  loose  their 
palatal  quality  and  become  fronted  dental  sounds.  Palatal  I 
(and  ft)  on  the  other  hand  remain  thus  for  centuries,  and  the 
productive  period  of  the  parasitic  palatal  is  therefore  indefi- 
nitely lengthened.  It  was  constantly  there  in  tendency,  and 
was  constantly  held  back  and  reabsorbed  by  the  palatal  con- 
sonants. When  he  further  maintains  that  it  never  developed 

1  Cf.  Schuchardt,  VokaLismus  des  Vulgarlateins,  il,  p.  488. 


VOWELS   IN    GALLIC   POPULAR    LATIN.  29 

into  an  independent  vowel,  he  errs  completely.  In  ray  article 
on  "  Dialectische  Eigenthiimlichkeiten  in  der  Entwickelung  des 
mouillierten  1  ini  Altfranzosischen,"  Publications  of  the  Modern 
Language  Association,  v,  p.  52  ff.,  I  have  shown  that  this  i  in 
certain  dialects  was  pronounced.  The  most  conclusive  cases 
are  those,  where  -eil  becomes  -oil,  as  in  Chrestien  de  Troies, 
conseil  >  consoil.  It  would  be  useless  to  follow  out  here 
the  question  whether  it  was  or  was  not  silent  in  the  Isle  de 
France  dialect.  After  a,  this  dialect  seems  to  have  followed 
its  neighbor  on  the  East,  the  Champagneois,  while  in  the 
case  of  e  -|-  I  it  agrees  with  the  Picard,  where  it  was  silent. 
Whether  it  was  ever  pronounced  in  case  of  -ieil  and  -ueil  is  a 
question  which  it  is  impossible  to  answer.  The  absence  of 
-it  and  -ml  cannot  disprove  it,  however,  for  the  i  before  /  de- 
veloped long  after  the  other  triphthongs  iei  and  uei  had  been 
reduced  to  i  and  ui.  The  history  of  vowel  -f-  /  is  in  my 
opinion  closely  parallel  to  that  of  vowel  -f-  simple  palatal. 
The  only  difference  lies  in  the  fugitive  nature  of  the  parasitic 
i.  All  vowels  before  I  were  free,  and  variations  from  the 
regular  free  development  are  due  to  the  nature  of  the  follow- 
ing consonant. 

Thus  £  and  o  were  lengthened  in  the  sixth  century,  and 
diphthongized  to  ie  and  uo,  and  since  the  ultima  did  not  fall 
until  the  eighth  century,  mejjus  becomes  regularly  melus  > 
mielus  >  mielz,1  ve^c'lus  >  vUus  >  viefus  >  vielz,  Qc'lu  >  olu  > 
uot^>  ueil.  Forms  like  cueil  and  cueilz,  it  seems  to  me,  sup- 
port the  view  advanced  here.  The  o  in  this  word  could  not 
diphthongize  until  the  check  caused  by  the  U  had  been  reduced. 
But  this  had  been  accomplished,  when  IVj  had  become  /  as  in 
colligis  >  cdllijis  >  colis  >  cuolis  >  cueilz  and  c611igo  >  c6l- 
iijo  >  colo  >  cueil. 

In  the  case  of  a,  e,  o  the  development  is  quite  similar. 
On  account  of  the  potential  presence  of  the  parasitic  i,  these 
vowels  could  not  follow  the  ordinary  development  of  free  a, 

1  The  attempt  which  I  made  in  Mod.  Lang.  Notes,  v,  col.  104,  to  explain 
the  diphthong  in  mieh  as  due  to  analogy  of  vielz,  is  therefore  unnecessary. 


30  JOHN   E.    MATZKE. 

e,  o.  Their  history  is  therefore  parallel  to  that  of  a,  e,  o  -f 
simple  palatal  with  this  difference  that,  owing;  to  the  con- 
tinued palatal  pronunciation  of  J,  the  original  condition  of 
things  has  been  preserved  in  the  spoken  language  to  the 
present  day.  The  modern  pronunciation  of  travail,  conseil, 
grenouille  contains  the  same  potential  parasitic  i  which  existed 
here  in  the  older  stages  of  the  language.  The  case  of  o  alone 
presents  some  difficulty,  in  as  much  as  it  seems  to  show  the 
development  of  this  vowel  in  checked  position  to  u.  This 
explanation  is  however  not  the  only  one  that  presents  itself. 
The  darkening  of  the  o  >  u  may  be  due  merely  to  the  influ- 
ence of  the  following  /,  and  would  then  be  parallel  to  the 
well-known  change  of  oi  >  ui  in  croiz  and  cruiZj  conois  and 
cunuis. 

In  conclusion  I  would  say,  that  all  vowels  before  /  must  be 
looked  upon  as  free.  If  it  still  be  maintained  that  a,  e,  o 
show  the  development  of  the  checked  vowels,  then  the  check 
must  be  analyzed  not  as  Ij  but  as  */,  which  is  equivalent  to 
saying  that  a,  e,  o  are  influenced  in  their  development  by  the 
nature  of  the  I  and  not  at  all  by  the  nature  of  their  free  or 
checked  position. 

n.     Examples  are  the  following  : 

nj  —  ve,nja  >  viegne,  -anja  >  ague  (champagne),  tenja  > 
teigne,  O.H.G.  brunnja  >  bronja  >  brogne,  inge.nju 
>  engieing  >  engin,  companjo  >  compaing,  conju  > 
coing. 

gn  —  insegnat  >  enseignet,  pogna  >  poigne,  stagnu  >  es- 
taing,  segnu  >  sdng,  plantaginem  >  plantain. 

ndj  —  verecondja  >  vergogne. 

The  history  of  n  and  its  parasitic  i,  as  it  is  understood  at 
present,  may  be  stated  as  follows.  The  vowel  preceding  it 
was  nasalized  under  all  conditions,  but  the  parasitic  i  developed 
only  when  ft  was  final.  Since  an  ft  like  /  is  produced  by  a 
single  articulation,  vowels  preceding  it  must  have  been  free. 
Hence  inge.nium  became  engenu  >  engienu,  venjam  >  viegne. 
For  the  rest,  barring  the  difference  of  the  nasal  quality  of  the 


VOWELS    IN    GALLIC    POPULAR   LATIN.  31 

vowel,  the  history  of  these  words  must  have  been  similar  to 
that  of  vowel  -f  I,  where  n  was  medial,  or  of  vowel  +  simple 
palatal,  where  n  was  final,  and  further  discussion  is  therefore 
unnecessary. 

VOWEL  -f-  MUTE  +  /  OR  r. 

Consensus  of  opinion  with  regard  to  the  effect  of  mute  plus 
liquid  on  the  preceding  vowel,  does  not  seem  to  have  been 
reached  so  far.  G.  Paris  mentioned  pr,  br,  tr,  dr  as  leaving 
the  vowel  free,  while  in  the  case  of  cr,  gr,  pi,  bl  the  question 
must  be  decided  in  each  individual  case.  A  more  sweeping 
statement  was  made  by  Schwan,  who  in  the  first  edition  of  his 
Grammar  classified  a  vowel  +  muta  cum  liquida  as  free,  but 
his  illustrative  examples  contain  only  tr,  pr,  br,  gr,  and  Beh- 
rens  in  the  third  edition  has  allowed  this  definition  to  remain 
practically  unchanged.  Again  Suchier,  /.  c.,  §  6,  omits  gr 
from  this  list,  but  he  adds  dr,  pi,  bl,  besides  adding  the 
remark  that  in  later  learned  words  cl  and  gl  also  begin  the 
following  syllable.  Menger  finally  gives  only  labial  or  dental 
-f-  I  or  r  as  making  free  position  for  all  vowels ;  cr  and  gr  are 
said  to  leave  only  £  and  o  free,  but  not  the  other  vowels,  while 
cl  and  gl  are  only  mentioned  incidentally  except  in  as  much 
as  they  become  I.  The  combinations  in  doubt  are  therefore 
cr,  gr,  pi,  bl,  cl,  gl,  tl,  dl,  and  our  discussion  need  be  concerned 
only  with  these. 

I  have  already  stated  my  belief  that  whenever  consonant 
-f-  I  or  r  followed  a  vowel  in  Latin,  the  preceding  syllable 
was  invariably  open  and  the  vowel  free.  It  remains  here  to 
show  that  this  belief  is  born  out  by  the  historical  development. 
The  large  number  of  learned  words  in  this  category  will  fur- 
nish additional  proof,  if  their  tonic  vowel  developed  according 
to  the  regular  law  of  free  vowels. 

cr,  gr.  Wherever  these  combinations  had  changed  to  ir,  the 
development  is  identical  with  that  of  vowel  +  complicated 
palatal ;  cp.  int^gru  >  ente^r  >>  entieir  >  entir,  negru  >  neir, 
flagro  >>  flair.  When  the  stops  have  remained,  the  tonic 


32  JOHN   E.    MATZKE. 

vowel  was  evidently  free ;   cp.  *  al^cru  >  aliegre,  alacre  > 
aliegre,  acre  >  aigre,  macru  >  maigre.1 

pi,  bl.   In  a  number  of  words  b'l  early  became  ul,  as  tabula 

>  taula,  parabola  >  paraula,  nebula  >  nebula.     These  diph- 
thongs then  have  the  history  of  diphthongs,   taula  >>  tole, 
paraula  >  parole,  ne^ila  >>  nieule.    Where  the  labial  remains, 
the  preceding   vowel   was  undoubtedly  free ;   ejbulu  >>  ieble, 
nebula  >>  nieble,  flejbile  ^>fieble,  ind^bile  >  endieble,  pQpulu  > 
pueble,  mgbile  >  mueble,  flebile  ^>feible,  indebile  >>  endeible, 
populu  ^>peuple,  stopula  >  estouble  >  eteule.    Doplu  >>  double, 
copula  >>  couple,  treple  >>  treble  are  due  to  influence  of  doubler, 
coupler,  trebler. 

c'lf  g'l.  All  words,  where  these  combinations  have  remained, 
are  learned,  but  the  tonic  vowel,  when  it  in  any  way  develops 
according  to  popular  tendencies,  always  shows  the  results  of 
free  position ;  saeculu  >>  s^c'lu  >>  siecle,  siegle,  sieule,  *r§gula 

>  riegle,  abgculu  >•  avuegle,  secale  ^>  seigle. 

t'l,  d'L  Words,  where  t'l  and  d'l  did  not  develop  into  /"form 
a  class  quite  apart  whose  history  is  not  fully  understood.  The 
examples  are  spatula  >  espadle  >>  espalle  >>  epaule,  mgdulu 
>>  modle  >  molle  >  moule,  rgtulu  >•  roule,  crgtulat  >>  croule, 
metula  >>  meule.  The  explanation  which  is  usually  given 
admits  assimilation  to  II  and  subsequent  vocalization  of  the 
first  /  >  u.2  If  the  words  were  adopted  early  enough  into 
the  language  to  come  under  the  influence  of  ten  Brink's  law, 
the  check  which  is  evident  in  their  development  must  have 
been  exercised  by  t'l  or  d'l,  for  the  assimilation  to  U  took  place 
quite  late ;  cf.  crodlez,  Q.  L.  D.  JR.,  205.  At  the  present  state 
of  our  knowledge,  however,  it  will  be  impossible  to  answer 
this  question  definitely. 

There  remain  now  of  the  original  Latin  combinations  of 
two  consonants  only  n,  m,  I,  r,  s  -j-  consonant,  and  the  vowels 

1  In  both  of  these  words  the  digraph  is  merely  a  graphic  sign  for  e ;  cf. 
Meyer -Liibke,  Rom.  Gram.,  \  223. 

'Cf.  Forster,  Rom.  Stud.,  in,  p.  184,  and  Gutheim,  Ueber  Konsonanten- 
Assimilation,  p.  44. 


VOWELS   IN   GALLIC   POPULAR   LATIN.  33 

preceding  these  combinations  are  invariably  checked.  A  check 
is  further  made  by  a  Latin  geminated  consonant,  and  by  those 
geminated  consonants  which  existed  in  the  sixth  century  as 
the  result  of  assimilation,  as  ps  >  88  and  pt  >  tt.  Latin  com- 
binations of  more  than  two  consonants  always  check  the  vowel 
after  which  they  stand. 

SECONDARY  COMBINATIONS  OF  CONSONANTS. 

The  words  belonging  here  are  paroxytones  and  proparoxy- 
tones  in  which  consonants,  originally  separated  by  an  atonic 
vowel,  are  brought  together  through  the  syncope  of  the  vowel. 
In  paroxytones  it  is  the  vowel  of  the  ultima  which  falls,  but 
inasmuch  as  this  did  not  take  place  until  after  the  tonic 
vowel  had  changed  or  begun  to  change,  no  checking  effect  of 
this  class  of  combinations  is  to  be  noted. 

The  problem  is  different  in  proparoxytones.  In  certain 
cases,  which  have  been  enumerated  above,1  the  penult  fell 
long  before  the  time  when  vowels  in  open  syllables  were 
lengthened,  so  that  these  combinations  have  identical  influ- 
ence with  the  primary  combinations  of  the  same  nature.  In 
the  majority  of  cases,  however,  the  syncope  of  the  penult 
takes  place  later,  and  the  question  is  consequently  more  com- 
plicated. Everything  depends  here  upon  the  chronological 
order  of  the  different  processes  which  these  words  underwent. 
These  processes  are  principally  the  following  three :  (1)  the 
lengthening  of  vowels  in  open  syllables ;  (2)  the  voicing  of 
voiceless  medial  stops ;  (3)  the  falling  of  the  atonic  vowels. 
All  three  in  their  ultimate  analysis  are  due  to  the  same  cause, 
viz.,  the  change  in  the  nature  of  the  accent,  which  from  a 
predominantly  musical  pitch-accent  became  a  strong  expira- 
tory stress-accent.  In  such  an  accent  the  whole  energy  of 
the  word  or  stress-group  is  used  up  in  the  ictus  on  the  tonic 
vowel,  and  the  surrounding  elements  are  in  consequence 
wasted  away.  Thus  the  vowel  ending  the  tonic  syllable  is 

lCp.p.lO. 

3 


34  JOHN    E.    MATZKE. 

lengthened,  a  voiceless  tenuis  in  its  neighborhood  becomes  a 
voiceless  media  passing  rapidly  further  to  a  voiced  media,  and 
an  atonic  vowel  is  worn  off  to  the  neutral  vowel  sound  (^) 
before  it  falls. 

There  can  be  no  question  that  the  conclusions  of  Neumann, 
Z.  f.  R.  Ph.,  xiv,  p.  559  ff.,  must  be  accepted  with  regard  to 
the  chronological  order  of  the  processes  involved.  The  syn- 
cope of  the  vowel  of  the  penult  is  oldest  when  the  vowel  of 
the  ultima  was  a,  as  r&sica  >  rasca,  dSbita  >  debta.  The 
greater  resonance  of  the  ultima  helped  to  subdue  the  vowel  of 
the  penult.  Since,  however,  £  usually  becomes  ie  in  words  of 
this  class  (*fe.rnita  >  fiente,  etc.),  it  follows  that  the  syncope 
is  younger  than  the  lengthening  of  vowels  in  open  syllables. 
When  the  ultima  contained  the  vowel  tt,  the  resonance  was 
more  evenly  distributed  between  the  two  atonic  syllables, 
and  the  penult  was  more  slow  in  falling.  In  fact  words  like 
ctibitum  >  cobedu  >  cobde  >  coude,  aetaticum  >  edadigu  > 
edadgu  >  edage  show  that  the  vowel  of  the  penult  fell  after 
the  voicing  of  medial  voiceless  stops.1 

There  is  one  restriction  to  be  noted  here.  When  c  (-{-  e,  i) 
was  the  initial  consonant  of  the  atonic  penult,  it  seems  to 
have  been  reduced  to  j  in  early  Popular  Latin  times.2  This 
opinion,  which  it  is  impossible  to  substantiate  with  forms  from 
early  documents,  is  based  upon  the  evidence  afforded  by  the 
later  development,  as  placitu>pM,  placet  >  plaist.  Nor 
is  it  unreasonable  to  suppose  that  the  initial  consonant  of  the 
atonic  penult  (placitu)  or  of  the  pretonic  syllable  (vocitare) 

1  Rydberg,  Die  Enstehung  des  9-Lautes,  Upsala,  1896,  p.  30  ff.,  overlooks 
the  diphthongization  of  e  just  mentioned  and  as  a  result  places  the  syncope 
of  the  penult  before  a  in  the  ultima  too  early.  "  Obengenannte  Synkopie- 
rungen  miissen  folglich  alle  vor  Ende  des  v.  Jahrh.  vollendet  gewesen  sein 
und  gehoren,  wenigstens  zum  Teil  (so  z.  B.  die  Typen  manca,  rasca,  etc.) 
der  altesten  galloromanischen  Zeit  an,"  p.  33.  On  p.  32  he  puts  the 
change  of  c  (+  a,  o)  >gi  as  having  taken  place  centuries  before  that  of  t>d, 
without  citing  the  necessary  proof.  Meyer-Liibke,  Rom.  Gram.,  \  648,  puts 
this  development  into  the  seventh  century. 

*Cf.  Meyer-Liibke,  Rom.  Gram.,  33  314  and  523. 


VOWELS   IN   GALLIC  POPULAR   LATIN.  35 

had  a  different  history  from  that  of  the  initial  consonant  of 
the  ultima.  This  development,  which  may  be  accepted  as  a 
fact,  was  of  fundamental  influence  in  the  history  of  the  ultima, 
as  will  be  shown  hereafter. 

All  these  processes  precede  the  further  development  of  a  > 
d,  e  >  e{  and  o  >  ou,  since  these  vowels  remain  unchanged  in 
words  of  this  class.  In  other  words,  these  vowels  are  checked 
by  the  new  combinations  of  consonants  caused  by  the  syncope ; 
cf.  gabata  >jatte,  rapidu  >  rade,  debita  >  dette,  semita  > 
sente,  cobita  >  O.  Fr.  coute,  cobitu  >  coude.  Since  the  de- 
velopment of  a  >  a  took  place  towards  the  end  of  the  seventh 
century,  it  follows  that  the  syncope  was  completed  by  that 
time.  This  view  of  the  development  is  however  not  shared 
by  all  scholars.  Meyer-Liibke,  Rom.  Gram.,  §§  530  and  644 
and  elsewhere,  maintains  that  a,  e,  o  remained  unchanged,  not 
because  they  were  checked  by  the  secondary  combinations  of 
consonants,  but  for  the  reason  that  in  proparoxytones  they 
were  not  lengthened.  The  conclusions  which  he  draws  in 
support  of  this  theory  from  the  development  of  anate  >  ane 
have  already  been  objected  to  by  Horning,  Z.  f.  R.  Ph.,  xv, 
p.  501.  The  whole  theory  is  based  upon  the  date  which 
he  ascribes  to  the  fall  of  the  ultima,  and  before  proceeding 
further  it  will  be  necessary  to  define  our  position  with  regard 
to  this  development. 

Meyer-Liibke  maintains  that  the  ultima  fell  before  the 
syncope  of  the  penult  in  words  like  ciibitum  >>  kobedu, 
Rom.  Gram.,  §  313.  When  the  ultima  in  words  of  this  class 
remained  as  £,  it  is  not  a  supporting  vowel,  but  the  result  of 
the  rhythm  of  the  word.  Wherever  the  rhythm  was  trochaic 
(—  ")  as  in  se"rvu,  &mo  the  ultima  disappeared,  but  where 
a  dactyl  (—  ~  ~)  prevailed  the  penult  fell  and  the  ultima 
remained.  On  this  basis  he  explains  the  retention  of  the 
ultima  in  &lteru  >  altre,  t6mpelu  >  temple,  s6menu  >  somme, 
alenu  >  alne,  cdlemu  >>  chalme,  pdtere  >  pedre,  c6bedu  >  eobde 
>  coude,  -dticu  >  -ddegu  >>  -age,  ptimice  >  ponce,  etc.  Cases 
where  the  ultima  in  proparoxytones  has  disappeared,  as  placitu 


36  JOHN   E.    MATZKE. 

>  plait,  digitu  >  deit,  -agine  >  ain,  are  explained  on  the  basis 
of  an  earlier  syncope.     Finally  the  accuracy  of  the  theory  is 
based  upon  such  comparisons  as  cubitu  >  eoude  and  subtus  > 
souz,  pulice  >  puce  and  calce  >  ehaux,  ctfgnitu  >  cointe  and 
sanctu  >  saint. 

It  seems  to  me,  however,  that  the  following  reasons  militate 
forcibly  against  the  accuracy  of  Meyer-Liibke's  doctrine. 

1.  A  tendency  like  that  to  lengthen  vowels  in  open  sylla- 
bles must  in  the  nature  of  things  attack  all  vowels  alike. 
Hence  a,  e,  o  in  proparoxy tones  must  have  been  lengthened 
just  as  £  and  o.     Since,  moreover,  the  change  of  a  >>  d,  e  >>  e* 
and  o  >  ou  was  later  than  the  syncope,  the  check  caused  by 
the  new  combination  of  consonants  is  sufficient  to  account  for 
their  lack  of  development. 

2.  The  ultima  in  paroxytones  does  not  fall  until  after  the 
change  of  d  >  d,  e  >  e\  o  >  ou.     Meyer-Liibke  admits  this 
fact  in  §  644,  without  seeming  to  notice  the  evident  contra- 
diction of  his  argument.     The  date  of  this  process  is  given  by 
Rydberg,  1.  c.,  p.  43-44,  as  the  eighth  century. 

3.  Meyer-Liibke's  dactylic  rhythm  as  the  cause  for  the  re- 
tention of  the  ultima  in  proparoxytones  does  not  explain  the 
atonic  vowel  in  words  like  pejor  >  pire,  major  >  maire,  melior 

>  mieldre,  minor  >  mendre,   insimul  >  ensemble,  senior  > 
Oaths,  sendra,  apju  >>  ache  (atse),  sabju  >>  sage,  simju  >>  singe, 
where  we  certainly  have  a  supporting  vowel  which  developed 
to  make  the  final  consonantal  combinations  pronounceable. 

4.  The  comparison  of  cubitum  with  subtus  is  inadequate, 
since  original  labial  -f  dental  had  been  assimilated  to  tt  in  the 
second  century ;  cf.  Meyer-Liibke,  Grundr.,  I,  p.  364 ;  subtus 
was  therefore  sottus  in  the  sixth  century.     Cointe  does  not 
necessarily  derive  from  cognitu,  but  it  may  be  the  feminine 
form  generalized ;  cf.  Neumann,  Z.  f.  R.  Ph.,  xiv,  p.  563. 
The  case  of  calce  >  chaux,  pulice  >  puce  presents  more  diffi- 
culty and  will  be  considered  below. 

In  view  of  all  these  facts  it  seems  to  me  erroneous  and 
unnecessary  to  place  the  falling  of  the  ultima  earlier  than  the 


VOWELS    IN   GALLIC    POPULAR   LATIN.  37 

syncope  of  the  penult.  In  my  opinion  the  development  was 
as  follows. 

The  syncope  of  the  penult  was  gradual,  depending  partly 
on  the  resonance  of  the  ultima  and  partly  on  the  nature  of 
the  consonants  which  surrounded  the  vowel  of  the  penult. 
Reasons  advanced  by  Rydberg,  1.  c.,  p.  29  ff.,  make  it  extremely 
probable  that  the  suppression  of  this  syllable  under  favorable 
conditions  was  practiced  without  interruption  in  popular  speech 
from  the  earliest  times,  and  some  of  the  irregularities  mentioned 
below  may  probably  find  their  explanation  through  such  an 
early  syncope.  When  the  process  was  completed,  the  language 
possessed  only  paroxytones,  some  of  which  had  a  single  conso- 
nant before  the  ultima  and  others  a  combination  of  consonants. 
When  the  ultima  now  began  to  disappear,  it  fell  after  all  single 
consonants  and  after  all  those  combinations  of  consonants 
which  could  readily  be  combined  according  to  the  inherent 
tendencies  of  the  language  into  a  single  crescendo  expiratory 
effort.  If  on  the  other  hand  the  combination  was  new  or 
unusual  or  could  not  be  readily  thus  combined,  the  ultima 
remained  in  the  form  of  the  neutral  vowel  sound  of  the 
language,  as  the  result  of  the  effort  expended  in  pronouncing 
the  last  consonant,  thus  making  or  leaving  the  word  bisylla- 
bic,  and  the  tonic  vowel  was  checked,  if  it  had  not  already, 
as  £  and  o,  changed  to  a  diphthong. 

Thus  the  ultima  falls  after  liquid  plus  stop  or  spirant,  and 
if  the  stop  or  spirant  is  voiced,  it  now  becomes  voiceless 
through  the  crescendo  effort  of  expiration ;  cf.  servu  >>  serf, 
perdo  >  pert,  caPdu  >  chalt,  ver'de  >>  vert.  If  the  ultima, 
however,  is  preceded  by  a  consonant  plus  liquid  or  by  liquid 
plus  liquid  (except  geminated  liquid  and  rm  or  rn)  it  remains 
as  in  fabru  >>  fevre,  doplu  >>  double,  coperc'lu  >  couverde, 
cal'mu  >>  ehaume,  alnu  >>  aune,  somnu  >>  somne  >  somme, 
scamnu  >  esuhamme,1  -umine  >>  ume.  The  same  is  true  after 
sm  and  nc  (-}-  e,  i)  as  in  baptism u  >>  baptesme,  metipsimu  > 
medesme,  lynce  >>  I'once. 

1  Rydberg,  /.  c.,  p.  44,  draws  from  these  forms  the  valid  conclusion  that 
the  assimilation  of  m'n  had  not  yet  taken  place,  when  the  ultima  fell. 


38  JOHN   E.    MATZKE. 

The  absence  of  the  ultima  in  certain  proparoxytones  is  read- 
ily explained  on  the  same  basis.  An  examination  of  such  cases 
shows  in  every  instance  combinations  of  consonants  which  are 
easily  combined  in  a  single  expiratory  effort.  These  combi- 
nations are  illustrated  by  the  types  nltidu  >  netedu  >  nettu  > 
net,  peditu  >>  pededu  >>  peddu  >  pet,  dlgitu  >  dejidu  >  deidu 
>  deit,  gtirgite  >  gorjite  >  gorjte  >  gort,  -agine  >  -ajine  > 
-ain,  vtfcitu  >>  vojidu  >  vuojidu  >  vuoit,  colligo  >  collijo  > 
coto  >  cuol  >>  eueil. 

Groups  of  consonants  on  the  other  hand  which  no  longer 
existed  or  which  had  never  existed  in  the  language  require  a 
supporting  vowel ;  cf.  tSpidu  >  tiebidu  >  tiebde  >  tiede,  cti- 
bitu  >  coude,  jttvene  >jovene  >juefne,  St^phanu  >  Estienne, 
resinu  >>  resne,  s^dicu  >  siedigu  >  siedgu  ^>  siedge  >  siege, 
-aticu  >>  age,  rtimice  >•  ronce,  cgmite  >>  comte  >>  conte,  hgs- 
pite  >  ospte  >  os^e  (cf.  hoste  >  ost),  canabe  >  chanve,  asinu 
>>  osne,  ordine  >  orc??ie  >>  orne,  d^cimu  >>  diefme  ^>  dime. 

The  only  serious  difficulty  to  this  opinion  is  presented  by 
words  like  calce  and  pulice,  already  noticed  above,  which  show 
a  difference  in  their  French  forms  (chalc  and  pulce).  Only 
few  similar  examples  exist  in  the  language,  cf.  dulce  >  dole, 
falce  >  /aftj  (faux),  and  pollice  >>  polce,  salice  >>  sa/ce.  It 
must  be  admitted  that  in  both  sets  of  words  the  conditions  are 
sufficiently  similar  to  warrant  our  expectation  of  finding  iden- 
tical results.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  salice  occurs  in  O.  Fr.  both 
as  salce  and  sale,  and  these  forms  may  contain  the  key  to  the 
riddle.  It  is  well  known  that  the  color  of  the  I  differed  accord- 
ing to  its  position,  being  '  pinguis '  before  consonants,  i  exilis ' 
before  vowels  and  when  geminated.1  Therefore  we  have  to 
posit  do-tee,  fatee,  eatee,  but  salice,  pulice,  pollice,  and  of  these 
two  /'s  it  is  t  which  most  readily  combines  with  the  following 
articulation.  To  be  sure  in  salice  the  nature  of  the  I  changed 
after  the  syncope,  but  it  does  not  seem  impossible  that  for  a 
short  time  it  maintained  enough  of  its  original  color  to  pre- 
vent a  ready  union  with  the  following  consonant,  and  that 

1  Cf.  Seelman,  L  c.,  p.  326. 


VOWELS   IN   GALLIC   POPULAR   LATIN.  39 

would  explain  the  retention  of  the  ultima.  It  must  not  be 
forgotten  that  I'e  (with  the  addition  of  Vr)  is  the  only  instance 
in  which  the  vowel  of  the  penult  had  not  been  syncopated  in 
very  early  times  when  this  syllable  began  with  I.  It  is  often 
asserted  that  t  changed  to  u  most  readily  after  the  vowel  a.  If 
this  be  true,  its  guttural  quality  must  have  been  most  promi- 
nent after  this  vowel,  and  this  may  be  the  explanation  of  the 
doublets  salce  and  sale'.  In  pulce  and  polce  on  the  other  hand 
the  quality  of  the  I  did  not  change  until  after  the  ultima  had 
become  firmly  established.  I  offer  this  explanation  as  a  pos- 
sible solution  of  the  difficulty.  That  a  slight  difference  in  the 
color  of  the  I  may  affect  the  fate  of  the  ultima  is  shown  by  the 
development  of  altu  >  (h)alt,  and  helmu  >  helme,  alnu  >  alne. 

The  tonic  vowels  in  proparoxytones  were  therefore  always 
free  when  the  penult  began  with  a  single  consonant;  but  $ 
and  o  alone  can  show  the  effects  of  the  consequent  lengthen- 
ing, while  the  further  development  of  a,  e,  o  is  hindered  by 
a  secondary  check  caused  by  the  falling  of  the  vowel  of  the 
penult.  The  examples  in  point  will  bear  out  the  accuracy  of 
this  rule,  and  the  exceptions  are  probably  the  result  of  an 
early  syncope. 

$.  T^pidu  >  tiede,  StQphanu  >  Estienne,  ante_phona  >  an- 
iienne,  s$dicu  >  siege,  pe,dicu  >  piege,  me,dicu  >  miege,  d^cimu 
>  dime,  fe.  m  i  ta  >fiente,  f re,  m  i  ta  >finente,  fe,  retr  u  >fiertre.  Ex- 
ceptions  are  g^neru  >  gendre,  t^neru  >  tendre.  O.Fr.  giembre 
(>  ge,mere)  and  criembre  (>  tre,mere)  may  have  their  diphthong 
from  ge^rnit  >  gient  and  tr^mit  >  crient,  and  are  therefore  not 
necessarily  parallel  to  gendre  and  tendre.  Pectine,  according 
to  Meyer-Liibke,  Z.f.  E.  Ph.,  vm,  p.  237,  should  have  become 
*pigne.  His  explanation  is  that  the  language  "  singulares  singu- 
lar behandelt"  and  this  remark  is  no  doubt  correct  in  view  of 
the  fact  that  the  word  in  the  sixth  century  must  have  been  pro- 
nounced pgit'ine.  O.Fr.  resne  does  not  derive  from  retina  but 
resinu,  cf.  Meyer-Liibke,  Neutrum,  p.  137,  and  Korting,  s.  v. 

o.  *jQvine  ^>juefne,  (mojbile  >>  mueble),  mQvita  ]>  muete, 
VQcitu  >  vuoit  >  vuit,  *CQgitat  >  cuidet.  Exceptions  are 


40  JOHN   E.    MATZKE. 

cophinu  >  co/re,  Rhgdanu  >  Rhosne,  elemgsyna  >  almosne, 
hgrnine  >>  homme,  cgmite  >>  eonte,  dgmitu  >  donte,  canQnicu 

>  chanonge,  abrgtonu  >  aurone,  cognitu  >  coint. 

a.    Only  a  few  typical  examples  need  to  be  cited.     Rapidu 

>  rade,  gabata  >jatte,  -aticu  >  age,  rasica  >  rasche,  amita 

>  ante,  Lazaru  >  Lazdre.   Where  a  palatal  follows  the  vowel 
we  find  the  diphthong  ai;  placitu  >  plait,  facimus  >faimes, 
facitis  >faites.    Exceptions  are  chainse  and  aisne.    The  latter 
derives  from  acinu,  but  it  is  either  a  late  importation  or  we 
have  to  accept  Meyer-Liibke's  explanation,  Rom.  Gram.  §  531, 
that  ci  before  I  and  n  becomes  is.    Chainse  is  irregular,  whether 
it  derives  from  camice  or  from  camisi  as  Grober  puts  it,  Arch. 
Lat.  Lex.,  i,  p.  541. 

e.  Debita  >  dette,  bebita  >  bette,  netidu  >  net,  peditu  > 
pet,  haereticu  >  erege,  tredece  >  treze,  semita  >  sente,  cenere 

>  cendre,  domenica  >  dimanche.     Before  a  palatal  the  diph- 
thong ei  arises  as  in  explecitu  >  espleit,  sollecitu  >  solicit, 
degitu  >  deit.     In  O.  Fr.  reisne  or  resne  (<  resinu)  the  i  is 
merely  graphic,  and  ei  stands  for  g.     The  history  of  peisle  > 
poisle  >  poele  from  pe(n)sile  alone  is  obscure  and  the  vowel 
remains  unexplained. 

o.  Cobitu  >  coude,  cobita  >  O.  Fr.  coute,  dobitas  >  doutes, 
dodece  >>  douze,  sobitus  >>  soude,  romice  >  ronce,  pomice  ^> 
ponce,  romigat  >•  ronge,  comulat  >>  comble,  nomeru  >>  nombre, 
ponere  >  pondre. 

Words  in  which  the  penult  begins  with  a  combination  of 
consonants  checking  the  tonic  vowels  are  so  regular  that  it  is 
unnecessary  to  cite  examples.  The  only  cases  to  be  mentioned 
particularly  are  those  whose  penult  begins  with  x.  The 
examples  are  taxitat  >  tastet,  intoxicat  >  entoschet,  fraxinu  > 
fraisne,  caxinu  >  chaisne,  Saxone  >  Saisne,  buxita  >  boiste, 
texere  >  tistre,  proximu  >>  prueisme,  and  because  their  his- 
tory seems  to  have  been  identical,  also  muccidu  >  moiste  and 
flaccidu  >  *flaiste  >flaistre.  Since  Latin  xt  is  reduced  to  st,1 
it  would  look  as  though  the  syncope  had  taken  place  earlier 

1  Cf.  Meyer-Liibke,  Rom.  Gram.,  %  403  f. 


VOWELS   IN   GALLIC   POPULAK   LATIN.  41 

in  taxitare  >  taster,  intoxicare  >  entoschier  than  in  the  other 
words.  The  consideration  of  this  feature  does,  however,  not 
belong  into  the  domain  of  this  paper.  Where  a  parasitic  i 
developed,  the  further  development  must  have  been  identical 
with  that  of  vowel  +  complicated  palatal.  The  diphthongs 
ai  and  oi  remained  as  such,  while  $i  and  oi  became  id  >  i 
and  uoi  >>  uei.  If  the  history  of  muccidu  and  flaccidu  is 
correctly  understood,  —cci-  must  have  been  pronounced  like  x, 
i.  e.,  cs. 

It  is  evident  now  that  the  terms  '  free '  and  '  checked '  can 
be  applied  to  vowels  only  with  reference  to  the  consonantal 
conditions  as  they  existed  in  the  sixth  century.  From  this 
point  of  view  their  definition  should  read  as  follows. 

Free  vowels  are : 

1.  All  simple  final  vowels. 

2.  All  simple  vowels  in  hiatus. 

3.  All  simple  vowels  before  a  single  medial  consonantal 
articulation,  whether  labial  (p,  6,  v),  dental  (t,  •$,  d,  s,  z}  r}  /), 
nasal  (n,  m)  or  palatal  (k,  g,  k'}  gr,  j,  s',  tf,  rf,  I,  n). 

4.  All  simple  vowels  before  consonant  -j-  I  or  r. 

5.  All  simple  vowels  in  monosyllables.1 

6.  All  diphthongs  existing  in  the  sixth  century,  regardless 
of  the  consonants  which  follow. 

Checked  vowels  are : 

1.  All  simple  vowels  followed  by  a  complicated  conso- 
nantal articulation.     These  are  /,  r,  m,  n,  s  -f  consonant,  and 
t  +  s,d  +  z  and  t  +  s. 

2.  All  simple  vowels  followed  by  a  Latin  or  Romanic 
geminated  consonant. 

3.  All  simple  vowels  followed  by  a  group  of  more  than 
two  consonants. 

JOHN  E.  MATZKE. 

1  The  consideration  of  vowels  in  monosyllables  has  been  omitted  in  this 
paper,  because  this  class  of  words  presents  no  particular  difficulty.  The 
principle  regulating  their  development  is  stated  by  Behrens  in  the  third 
edition  of  Schwan's  Grammatik,  $  33. 


II.— ELIZABETHAN  TRANSLATIONS  FROM  THE 

ITALIAN:  THE  TITLES  OF  SUCH  WORKS 

NOW  FIRST  COLLECTED  AND 

ARRANGED,  WITH 

ANNOTATIONS. 

III.  MISCELLANEA. 

INTRODUCTION. 

The  whole  bibliography  of  Elizabethan  translations  from 
the  Italian,  as  far  as  my  researches  have  gone  up  to  the 
present  time,  consists  of  404  separate  titles.  Of  these,  I 
have  already  published  70  numbers  in  Part  I,  "Romances  in 
Prose"  (Publications  of  the  Modern  Language  Association  of 
America,  Vol.  x,  No.  2,  June,  1895),  and  82  numbers  in 
Part  II,  "  Poetry,  Plays,  and  Metrical  Romances "  (Ibid., 
Vol.  xi,  No.  4,  December,  1896).  The  "  Miscellanea,"  Part 
III,  comprise  252  numbers,  so  many  that  I  have  found  it 
convenient  to  divide  them.  The  present  paper  contains  111 
titles,  classified  under  the  general  heads,  religion  and  theology, 
science  and  the  arts,  grammars  and  dictionaries,  and  proverbs. 
It  will  be  followed  by  a  second  section  dealing  with  history 
and  politics,  voyages  and  discovery,  manners  and  morals,  and 
Italian  and  Latin  publications  in  England.  I  need  hardly 
add  that  this  is  merely  a  working  classification.  Many  of  the 
titles  are  obvious  enough,  but  as  is  well  known  the  Eliza- 
bethans exercised  a  lively  fancy  in  the  naming  of  books.  To 
one  uninstructed  in  the  Elizabethan  love  of  color  and  melody 
in  phraseology,  A  Joyfull  Jewell  does  not  at  once  suggest  a 
treatise  on  the  plague,  nor  A  Divine  Herball  a  sermon,  nor 
the  Enimie  of  Idlenesse  a  complete  letter- writer.  I  have  no 
doubt  but  that  with  a  wider  acquaintance  with  the  subject  I 
should  reclassify  to  a  certain  extent. 
42 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS   FROM   THE   ITALIAN.       43 

In  this  connection  I  wish  to  repeat,  from  the  Introduction 
to  Part  I,  that  this  bibliography  has  grown  out  of  some 
studies  into  the  Italian  origins  of  the  Elizabethan  drama. 
The  sources  of  so  many  plays  are  to  be  found  in  the  popular 
translations  from  the  Italian  of  the  time,  sometimes  through 
the  French  or  Spanish,  that  I  found  it  impossible  to  go  on 
with  a  systematic  study  of  the  origins  until  I  had  collected 
the  translations.  For  this  reason  I  use  the  term  Elizabethan 
in  its  large  sense,  to  include  the  entire  cycle  of  the  great 
drama,  approximately  from  the  accession  of  Edward  VI.  to 
the  Restoration,  from  1549  to  1660,  with  some  extension  at 
both  ends  of  this  period.  This  occurs  in  the  case  of  authors 
whose  literary  activity  overlaps  the  dates  fixed  upon;  for 
example,  among  the  religious  translations,  the  sermons  of  the 
great  Italian  preacher,  Ochino,  began  to  be  turned  into  Eng- 
lish under  the  Protestant  influence  of  Henry  VIII.,  and  the 
works  of  the  grammarian,  Torriano,  run  half  way  through 
the  reign  of  Charles  II.  In  each  section  I  have  kept  to  the 
chronological  order  of  publication.  This  shows  at  a  glance 
the  growth  of  the  Italian  influence,  besides  throwing  out  side- 
lights that  open  up  many  interesting  questions.  It  will  be 
noticed  that  the  religious  influence,  with  only  one  exception, 
is  at  first  exclusively  Protestant,  while  after  1600  the  Roman 
Catholic  faith  is  accorded  a  hearing.  One  of  the  most  novel 
and  striking  aspects  of  the  whole  question  is  the  showing  here 
made  for  Italian  Protestantism  in  England.  Roger  Ascham 
refers  to  an  Italian  church  in  London  in  his  time : — 

"Thies  men,  thus  Italianated  abroad,  can  not  abide  our 
Godlie  Italian  chirch  at  home :  they  be  not  of  that  Parish, 
they  be  not  of  that  felowshyp :  they  like  not  the  preacher : 
they  heare  not  his  sermons :  Excepte  somtyme  for  companie, 
they  cum  thither  to  heare  the  Italian  tonge  naturally  spoken, 
not  to  heare  Gods  doctrine  trewly  preached." 

The  Scholemaster,  p.  85  (ed.  1570). 

Whether  John  Florio's  father  was  the  preacher  whose 
Italian  the  young  courtiers  went  to  listen  to,  or  not,  I  do 


44  MARY   AUGUSTA   SCOTT. 

not  know,  but  he  appears  here  as  an  Italian  preacher  in 
London  patronized  by  Cranmer  and  Cecil,  and  the  author  of 
a  life  of  Lady  Jane  Grey  and  a  catechism  for  children,  both 
in  Italian.  Peter  Martyr  occupies  a  large  space  in  the  early 
history  of  the  Established  Church.  Archbishop  Cranmer 
made  him  professor  of  ecclesiastical  law  at  Oxford  and  some 
of  the  ablest  Anglican  divines  learned  theology  at  his  feet, 
among  them  Archbishop  Grindal,  Bishops  Jewel  and  Ponet, 
and  Dean  Nowell. 

It  is  for  the  most  part  a  childish  sort  of  science,  much 
mixed  with  alchemy  and  magic,  as  it  gets  itself  translated  for 
Englishmen,  but  John  Halle's  Lanfranci  and  Porta's  Natural 
Magick  represent  at  least  in  this  list  the  great  Italian  anato- 
mists and  physicists  of  the  sixteenth  century.  During  the 
years  1583,  1584  and  1585  Giordano  Bruno  brought  out  five 
books  in  London.  He  tells  us  how  he  was  invited  by  Fulke 
Greville  to  meet  Sidney  and  others,  in  order  that  they  might 
hear  "  the  reasons  of  his  belief  that  the  earth  moves."  "  We 
met,"  says  Bruno,  "  in  a  chamber  in  the  house  of  Mr.  Fulke 
Greville,  to  discuss  moral,  metaphysical,  mathematical  and 
natural  speculations." 

In  the  arts  we  see  the  Italians  the  intelligent  teachers  of  a 
great  variety  of  subjects,  from  the  building  of  palaces  to  the 
making  of  ink  and  the  breaking  in  of  horses. 

I  would  call  attention  to  the  wide  use  of  dialogue  as  a 
form  of  literary  expression.  Bruno  uses  it,  and  Machiavelli, 
and  even  a  book  on  gunnery  is  written  in  dialogue.  How 
much  the  dialogue  form,  copied  from  Italian  into  English, 
may  have  had  to  do  with  the  development  of  the  great 
dramatic  cycle  of  the  Elizabethan  period,  can  be  a  matter  of 
conjecture  only,  but  there  is  hardly  a  doubt,  I  think,  but  that  it 
acted  as  a  sort  of  bed  of  Procrustes  for  the  poets  of  the  time. 
It  throws  light  on  the  non-dramatic  Elizabethan  dramatists. 
It  explains  the  dull,  ponderous  plays,  like  Locrine  and  Covent 
Garden,  which  move  across  the  stage,  whether  as  tragedy  or 
comedy,  with  elephantine  tread.  It  explains  why  the  sweet. 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS   FROM   THE   ITALIAN.       45 

bright  fancy  of  John  Day  soars  but  lamely,  with  clipped 
wings,  in  the  dramatic  form.  Neither  Nabbes,  nor  Day,  nor 
Munday,  nor  many  another  Elizabethan  playwright,  should 
have  written  plays. 

As  many  of  the  authors  mentioned  in  this  paper  are  little 
known,  I  have  interspersed  a  few  biographies,  and  now  and 
then  I  have  given  some  account  of  a  particular  book.  The 
aim  of  the  notes  has  been  simply  to  clear  up  the  subject ;  if, 
perchance,  they  add  interest  to  it,  I  shall  be  twice  paid,  once 
in  my  own  pleasure  in  these  studies,  and  again  in  sharing  it. 

a.   RELIGION  AND  THEOLOGY. 

1547.  Five  Sermons,  translated  out  of  Italian  into  Englishe, 
Anno  Do  MDXLVII. 

London,  by  R.  C.  [probably  Robert  Crowley]  for  William 
Beddell.  1547.  Sm.  8vo. 

Translated  from  the  Prediche  of  Bernardino  Ochino,  of 
Siena,  1487-1564.  Ochino  was  an  Italian  Protestant,  whose 
restless  disposition  brought  him  many  vicissitudes  in  life. 
Having  become  an  Observantine  friar,  he  renounced  his  vows 
to  study  medicine,  but  not  finding  medicine  to  his  taste,  he 
reentered  his  order,  only  to  leave  it  again  to  become  a  Capu- 
chin. In  1538  he  was  elected  vicar-general  of  the  Capuchins, 
and  travelled  all  over  Italy  preaching,  the  people  everywhere 
flocking  to  hear  him.  About  1542  he  became  a  Protestant, 
preaching  that  doctrine  in  Geneva,  where  he  was  welcomed  by 
Calvin,  and  in  Augsburg.  Shortly  before  the  death  of  Henry 
VIII.  he  accepted  the  invitation  of  Archbishop  Cranmer  to 
go  to  England,  and  under  Edward  VI.  he  was  made  a 
prebendary  of  Canterbury  and  received  a  pension  from  the 
king's  privy  purse.  At  the  accession  of  Mary,  he  became 
the  pastor  of  the  Italian  Protestant  church  in  Zurich,  through 
the  friendly  offices  of  Henri  Bullinger.  He  was  exiled  from 
Switzerland,  in  1563,  on  account  of  his  Dialogue  of  Polygamy, 
dialogue  twenty-one  of  his  Dialogi  XXX,  and  spent  the  last 


46  MARY   AUGUSTA    SCOTT. 

year  of  his  life  in  wandering  from  place  to  place;  after 
ing  three  of  his  four  children  die  of  the  plague  at  Pinczow, 
Poland,  he  himself  died  at  Schlakau,  Moravia,  towards  the 
end  of  1564. 

Bernardino  Ochino  was  the  intimate  friend  of  Bembo, 
Tolomei,  Pietro  Martire,  and  Vittoria  Colonna.  Besides 
several  volumes  of  Prediche,  his  most  famous  work  is  the 
Tragedy,  translated  by  Bishop  Ponet,  1549.  See  Dialogue  of 
Polygamy,  1657. 

1 548.  Sermons  of  the  ryght  famous  ad  excellent  clerke  Master 
Bernardine  Ochine,  etc. 

A.  Scoloker :  Ippeswich.  1548.  8vo.  Black  letter.  With- 
out pagination.  British  Museum. 

Dedicated  to  Edward  Seymour,  Duke  of  Somerset,  by 
"  Rychard  Argentyne,"  the  translator. 

This  is  another  translation  from  the  popular  Prediche  of 
Bernardino  Ochino ;  they  are  controversial  tracts,  rather  than 
sermons,  and  were  written  to  explain  and  vindicate  his  change 
of  religion.  The  collection  contains  sermons  1  to  6  of  the 
later  edition,  entitled  Certayne  Sermons,  etc.  [1550?],  trans- 
lated in  part  by  Lady  Bacon. 

1549.  A  tragoedie  or  Dialoge  of  the  unjuste  usurped  Pri- 
macie  of  the  Bishop  of  Rome,  and  of  all  the  just  abolishyng  of 
the  same,  made  by  Master  Barnardine  Ochine,  an  Italian,  and 
translated  out  of  Latine  into  Englishe  by  Master  John  Ponet 
Doctor   of  Diuinitie,  never  before  printed  in  any  language. 
Anno  Do.  1549. 

Imprynted  for  Gualter  Lynne:  London.  1549.  4to. 
Black  letter.  Library  of  Edward  VI.  Royal  Library. 
British  Museum,  (2  copies). 

Dedicated  to  King  Edward  VI.,  by  Bernardinus  Ochinus 
Senensis. 

The  parties  that  doe  speake  in  thys  dialoge  are  these — 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS   FROM   THE    ITALIAN.       47 

i.    Lucifer  and  Beelzebub, 
ii.    Boniface  the  third,  &  Doctour  Sapience  secretary  to 

the  Emperour. 

iii.    The  people  of  Rome.     The  Churche  of  Rome, 
iiii.    The  Pope,  and  men's  Judgement  and  the  people  of 

Rome, 
v.    Thomas  Massuccius  the  master  of  the  horse.    Lepidus 

the  pope's  chamberlain, 
vi.    Lucifer  and  Beelzebub. 

vii.    Christ  and  Michaell  and  Gabriell  archangelis. 
viii.   King  Henry  viii.  and  Papiste,  and  Thomas  Arch- 

bishoppe  of  Canterbury, 
ix.   King  Edward  vi.  and  the  Counseill. 

"  This  remarkable  performance,  originally  written  in  Latin, 
is  extant  only  in  the  translation  of  Bishop  Ponet,  a  splendid 
specimen  of  nervous  English.  The  conception  is  highly  dra- 
matic; the  form  is  that  of  a  series  of  dialogues.  Lucifer, 
enraged  at  the  spread  of  Christ's  kingdom,  convokes  the 
fiends  in  council,  and  resolves  to  set  up  the  pope  as  Anti- 
christ. The  state,  represented  by  the  emperor  Phocas,  is 
persuaded  to  connive  at  the  pope's  assumption  of  spiritual 
authority ;  the  other  churches  are  intimidated  into  acqui- 
escence ;  Lucifer's  projects  seem  fully  accomplished,  when 
Heaven  raises  up  Henry  VIII.  and  his  son  for  their  over- 
throw. The  conception  bears  a  remarkable  resemblance  to 
that  of  Paradise  Lost;  and  it  is  nearly  certain  that  Milton, 
whose  sympathies  with  the  Italian  Reformation  were  so 
strong,  must  have  been  acquainted  with  it." 

Richard  Garnett. 

John  Ponet,  or  Poynet,  1514(?)-1556,  was  not  only  a 
great  preacher,  but  a  man  of  learning,  knowing  mathematics, 
astronomy,  German  and  Italian,  besides  being  a  good  classi- 
cal scholar  and  theologian.  The  Tragedy,  translated  from 
Ochino's  manuscript,  brought  him  to  the  notice  of  the  Pro- 


48  MARY   AUGUSTA   SCOTT. 

lector  Somerset,  who  is  mentioned  in  the  dedication,  and 
Ponet  was  made  successively  Bishop  of  Rochester  and  of 
Winchester.  He  was  somewhat  unscrupulous,  and  is  thought 
to  have  voiced  the  opinion  given  by  himself,  Cranmer,  and 
Ridley,  when  consulted  about  the  Princess  Mary's  hearing 
mass,  { that  to  give  license  to  sin  was  sin ;  nevertheless,  they 
thought  the  king  might  suffer  or  wink  at  it  for  a  time.' 
(Strype,  Memorials,  II,  1,  451.) 

Upon  the  accession  of  Queen  Mary,  Bishop  Ponet  was 
deprived,  and  Stephen  Gardiner  reinstated  in  the  bishoprick 
of  Winchester.  Stow  asserts,  and  Froude  after  him  (His- 
tory of  England,  Vol.  vi,  Chap.  31),  that  Ponet  was  out  in 
Sir  Thomas  Wyatt's  rebellion,  in  1554.  Eventually  he  found 
his  way  to  Peter  Martyr,  at  Strasburg,  where  he  seems  to 
have  lived  comfortably  enough.  "  What  is  exile/7  he  wrote 
to  Bullinger  at  Zurich,  "  a  thing  painful  only  in  imagination, 
provided  you  have  wherewith  to  subsist." 

At  his  death,  in  1556,  his  library  came  into  the  possession 
of  Sir  Anthony  Cooke. 

[1550(?)J  A  discourse  or  Iraictise  of  Peter  Martyr  Vermill  a 
Floretine  ....  wherein  he  openly  declared  his  ....  iudgemente 
concernynge  the  Sacrament  of  the  Lordes  supper,  etc.  [  Trans- 
lated from  the  Latin  by  Nicholas  Udall.~] 

London :  R.  Stoughton.  [Under  Yermigli  the  British 
Museum  Catalogue  gives  the  date  [1550?],  but  under  Udall 
[1558?].]  4to.  Black  letter. 

Pietro  Martire  Yermigli,  1500-1562,  was  of  a  noble 
Florentine  family.  He  entered  the  order  of  Augustine  friars, 
and  soon  became  distinguished  for  his  learning  and  piety. 
Having  turned  Protestant,  he  was  invited  to  England  in 
1547  by  Archbishop  Cranmer  and  the  Duke  of  Somerset  to 
assist  in  the  English  reformation.  Cranmer  made  him  a 
professor  at  Oxford,  and  one  of  three  commissioners  charged 
with  drawing  up  a  new  code  of  ecclesiastical  laws  to  take  the 
place  of  the  Canon  Law  of  the  Catholic  church. 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS   FROM   THE   ITALIAN.       49 

When  Queen  Mary  came  to  the  throne,  Peter  Martyr 
asked  leave  to  return  to  the  continent,  and  it  is  one  of  the 
generous  acts  of  Gardiner,  Bishop  of  Winchester,  that  he 
supplied  the  Italian  the  means  to  get  back  to  Strasburg. 
Here  he  resumed  his  post  as  professor  of  theology,  subse- 
quently removing  to  Zurich  to  teach  the  same  subject. 

Peter  Martyr  wrote  commentaries  on  some  of  the  princi- 
pal books  of  the  Old  and  the  New  Testament,  and  several 
treatises  on  dogmatic  theology,  and  at  one  time  ranked  next 
to  Calvin  as  a  Protestant  writer.  He  was  more  learned  than 
Calvin,  of  moderate  counsels,  and  wished  to  unite  the  vari- 
ous sects  broken  off  from  the  Catholic  Church,  for  which  he 
always  retained  an  affection.  He  was  married  twice. 

[1550  (?)]  Certayne  Sermons  of  the  ryghte  famous  and  excel- 
lente  clerk  Master  B.  Ochine,  ....  now  .  ...  an  exyle  in  thys 
lyfe  for  the  faithful  testimony  of  Jesus  Christe.  Faythfully 
translated  into  Englysche. 

J.  Day :  London.  [1550?.]  8vo.  Black  letter.  British 
Museum. 

This  is  another  collection  of  sermons  translated  from 
Ochino's  Prediche;  the  first  six,  by  Richard  Argentine,  had 
already  appeared  in  Sermons  of  the  ryght  famous  ad  excellent 
clerlce  Master  Bernardine  Ochine ,  1548.  The  last  fourteen 
sermons  were  translated  by  Ann  Cooke,  second  daughter  of 
Sir  Anthony  Cooke,  afterwards  second  wife  to  Sir  Nicholas 
Bacon  and  mother  of  Sir  Francis  Bacon.  Sir  Anthony  Cooke, 
tutor  to  King  Edward  VI.,  had  five  daughters  who  all  made 
brilliant  marriages.  Mildred,  the  eldest,  was  the  second  wife 
of  William  Cecil,  Lord  Burghley,  and  of  the  three  younger 
daughters,  Katherine  became  the  wife  of  Sir  Henry  Killegrew, 
Elizabeth,  the  wife  (1)  of  Sir  Thomas  Hoby,  and  (2)  of  John, 
Lord  Russell,  son  of  Francis,  second  Earl  of  Bedford,  and 
Margaret  married  Sir  Ralph  Rowlett. 

Ann  Cooke  was  one  of  the  learned  women  of  her  time, 
and  is  said  to  have  been  able  to  read  Latin,  Greek,  Italian 
4 


50  MARY   AUGUSTA   SCOTT. 

and  French,  "as  her  native  tongue."  She  was  a  fervent 
Protestant,  inclined  to  Puritanism,  and  translated  Ochino's 
Prediche  before  her  marriage  to  Sir  Nicholas  Bacon.  Her 
most  interesting  work  is  a  translation  from  the  Latin  of 
Bishop  Jewel's  Apologia  Eoclesiae  Anglicanae,  1562,  entitled 
Apologie,  or  aunswer  in  defence  of  the  Church  of  England, 
1562  and  1564.  Both  editions  appeared  without  the  author's 
name,  but  the  second  one  contains  a  prefatory  address  to  Lady 
Bacon  as  the  translator,  by  Archbishop  Parker.  It  seems 
that  she  had  submitted  the  MS.  to  him,  accompanied  by  a 
letter  written  in  Greek.  He  returned  it  printed,  "  knowing 
that  he  had  hereby  done  for  the  best,  and  in  the  point  used 
a  reasonable  policy ;  that  is,  to  prevent  such  excuses  as  her 
modesty  would  have  made  in  stay  of  publishing  it." 

The  translation  is  referred  to  in  A  Declaration  of  the  True 
Causes  of  the  great  Troubles,  presupposed  to  be  intended  against 
the  realme  of  England,  1592,  p.  12. 

"The  apologie  of  this  Church  was  written  in  Latin,  & 
translated  into  English  by  A.  [nn]  B.  [aeon]  with  the  comen- 
dation  of  M.  [ildred]  C.  [ecil],  which  twaine  were  sisters,  & 
wives  unto  Cecill  and  Bacon,  and  gave  their  assistance  and 
helping  hands  in  the  plot  and  fortification  of  this  newe  erected 
synagog."  Queen  Elizabeth  thought  so  highly  of  the  Apologie 
that  she  ordered  a  copy  of  it  to  be  chained  in  every  parish 
church  in  England.  (G.  P.  Fisher,  History  of  the  Christian 
Church,  p.  374.) 

Theodore  de  B£ze,  who  knew  of  Lady  Bacon's  learning  and 
piety  from  her  son  Anthony,  dedicated  his  Meditations  to  her. 

Many  of  Lady  Bacon's  letters  to  her  sons  Anthony  and 
Francis  are  extant,  and  some  of  them  have  been  printed 
in  Spedding's  An  Account  of  the  Life  and  Times  of  Francis 
Bacon.  They  are  thickly  interspersed  with  quotations  from 
Greek  and  Latin  writers,  but  the  English  is  vigorous,  and 
the  picture  of  family  relations  presented  is  highly  interesting. 
The  mother  never  relinquished  her  authority  over  her  sons, 
even  as  grown  men,  and  one  of  them  Lord  Chancellor  of 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS   FROM   THE   ITALIAN.        51 

England.  She  took  the  liveliest  interest  in  their  affairs,  and 
reproved  them  sharply,  if  they  neglected  to  make  known  to 
her  what  they  were  doing.  The  young  men  were  both  duti- 
ful sons,  and  the  second  clause  of  Sir  Francis  Bacon's  will 
reads, — "  For  my  burial,  I  desire  it  may  be  in  St.  Michael's 
church,  near  St.  Alban's — there  my  mother  was  buried." 

[1550?]  Fouretene  Sermons,  concerning  the  Predestination 
and  Election  of  God :  very  expediente  to  the  settynge  forth  of 
hys  Glory e  among  his  Creatures.  Translated  out  of  Italian 
[of  Bernardino  Ochino\  into  oure  natyve  Towage  by  A.  C. 
[Ann  Cooke.~\ 

London,  by  John  Day  and  W.  Seres.  [1550  ?.]  Sm.  8vo. 
Black  letter.  Edited  by  G.  B.  British  Museum. 

Dedicated  by  A.  C.  to  her  mother,  the  Lady  F. 

These  Fouretene  Sermons  are  numbers  12  to  25  of  the  col- 
lection, entitled  Certayne  Sermons,  [1550?]. 

1550.  The  Alcaron  of  the  Barefote  Friers,  that  is  to  say,  an 
heape  or  numbre  of  the  blasphemous  and  trifling  doctrines  of  the 
wounded  Idole  Saint  Frances  [Francis  \_Bernardoni\,  of  Assisi, 
Saint,']  taken  out  of  the  boke  of  his  rules,  catted  in  latin  Liber 
Conformitatum  [by  Bartholomaeus  Albizzi]  ;  the  selections  made 
by  E.  Alberus~\. 

R.  G.  [rafton],  excudebat,  [London,]  1550.  8vo.  B.  L. 
British  Museum,  (2  copies).  Also,  London,  1603.  8vo. 
British  Museum. 

This  work  seems  to  have  been  translated  from  the  French ; 
a  French  original  in  the  British  Museum  is  of  later  date. 

L' Alcoran  des  Cordeliers,  tant  en  Latin  qu'en  Frangois;  c'est 
a  dire,  Recueil  des  plus  notables  bourdes  &  blasphemes  .  .  .  .  de 
ceux  qui  ont  ose  comparer  Sainct  Frangois  a  Jesus  Christ :  tire 
[by  Erasmus  Alberus]  du  grand  livre  des  Conformitez,  iadis 
compose  par  frere  Barthelemi  de  Pise.  .  .  .  [Translated  by 
Conrad  Badius~\.  Parti  en  deux  livres.  Nouvellement  y  a  este 
adioustee  la  figure  d'un  arbre  cotenat  par  branches  la  conference 


52  MARY   AUGUSTA    SCOTT. 

de  8.  Francois  &  Jesus  Christ.  Le  tout  de  nouveau  reveu  &  cor- 
rige.  Lot.  and  Fr.  2  pts. 

G.  de  Laimerie.  Geneve.  1578.  12mo.  British  Museum. 
Also,  Amsterdam.  1734.  12mo.  British  Museum. 

At  the  time  of  the  Reformation  Erasmus  Alberus  wrote  a 
refutation  of  the  Alcoran,  with  a  preface  by  Luther.  It  is 
entitled,  Der  Barfusser  Munche  Eulenspiegel  und  Aleoran. 
1542.  [2nd  edition.]  A  Latin  paraphrase  of  this,  is  Alcora- 
nus  Franciscanorum ;  id  est,  Blasphemiarum  et  nugarum  Lerna, 
de  stigmatisato  Idolo,  quod  Franciscum  vocant,  ex  Libro  Con- 
formitatum  [of  Bartholomaeus  Albizzi,  of  Pisa].  Translated 
and  abridged  from  the  Eulenspiegel  und  Alcoran  of  E.  Alberus. 
With  the  prefaces  of  M.  Luther  and  E.  Alberus.~\ 

Daventraie.    1651.    12mo.    British  Museum. 

The  Liber  Conformitatum  Sancti  Francisci  cum  Christo  was 
presented  by  the  author,  Bartolommeo  Albizzi  da  Pisa,  to 
the  chapter  of  his  order  assembled  at  Assisi,  in  1399,  and  the 
brothers  were  so  pleased  with  it  that  they  gave  him  the  habit 
worn  by  St.  Francis.  The  first  printed  edition  appeared  at 
Venice,  folio,  without  date,  and  is  one  of  the  rarest  incuna- 
bula. The  editions  of  1480  and  1484  have  the  title, 

Lifioretti  di  San  Francisco  assimilati  alia  vita  ed  alia  pas- 
sione  di  Nostro  Signore. 

1550.  An  epistle  unto  the  right  honorable  and  Christian 
Prince,  the  Duke  of  Somerset  written  unto  him  in  Latin,  anone 
after  hys  deliverance  out  of  trouble  ....  translated  into  Eng- 
lysche  by  T.  [homas~\  Norton. 

Imprynted  ....  for  Gualter  Lynne  :  Londo.  1550.  8vo. 
Black  letter.  British  Museum. 

The  epistle  was  written  by  Peter  Martyr  to  Edward  Sey- 
mour, Duke  of  Somerset,  upon  his  release  from  the  Tower, 
in  1550.  Thomas  Norton  was  only  eighteen  years  old  when 
he  published  the  translation,  which  is  the  more  interesting 
from  the  fact  that  the  original  letter  is  not  extant.  Norton 
was  at  the  time  amanuensis  to  the  Duke  of  Somerset  and 
undertook  the  translation  at  his  desire. 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS   FROM   THE   ITALIAN.       53 

The  rest  of  Norton's  literary  work  is  curiously  divided 
between  legal  papers,  controversial  Puritan  tracts,  twenty- 
eight  metrical  Psalms  which  he  contributed  to  The  whole 
Booke  of  Psalmes  collected  into  English  metre  by  T.  Sternhold, 
J.  Hopkins,  and  others,  etc.,  1561,  and  the  first  three  acts  of 
Gorboduc,  1565,  the  earliest  English  tragedy.  He  was  a 
Calvinistic  barrister,  and  married  (1)  Margery,  third  daughter 
of  Archbishop  Cranmer,  and  (2)  Alice  Cranmer,  his  first  wife's 
cousin.  In  1571  he  was  made  the  first  Remembrancer  of  the 
City  of  London,  and  as  such  was  elected  to  a  seat  in  the  third 
Parliament  of  Elizabeth. 

1550.  A  notable  and  marvellous  epistle  of  the  famous  Doc- 
tour  Mathewe  Gribalde,  professor  of  law  in  the  universitie  of 
Padua;  cdcerning  the  terrible  iudgement  of  God,  upon  hym 
that  for  feare  of  men  denieth  Christ,  and  the  knowne  veritie : 
with  a  Preface  of  Doctor  Caluine.  Translated  out  of  Latin 
intoo  English  by  E.  A. 

Worcester.  [Printed  by  John  Osmen.]  1550.  [1570  (?) 
in  the  British  Museum  Catalogued]  8vo. 

The  work  was  republished  at  London,  by  Henry  Denham, 
for  William  Norton,  without  date: — "Now  newely  imprinted, 
with  a  godly  and  wholesome  preseruative  against  despera- 
tion, at  all  tymes  necessarie  for  the  soule  :  chiefly  to  be  used 
when  the  deuill  dooeth  assaulte  us  moste  fiercely,  and  death 
approacheth  nighest." 

The  original  is  a  Latin  epistle  by  Matteo  Gribaldi,  called 
Mopha,  entitled, — 

Francisci  Spierae,  qui  quod  susceptam  semel  Evangelicae  veri- 
tatis  professionem  abnegasset  damnassetque,  in  horrendam  incidit 
desperationem  historia,  a  quatuor  summis  viris,  [C.  S.  Curio, 
M.  Gribaldus,  Henricus  \_Scrimzeor]  Scotus,  and  S.  Gelous,~\ 
summa  Jide  conscripta :  cum  praefationlbus  Caelii  S.  C.  et  J.  Cal- 
vini  &  P.  Vergerii  Apologia  .  .  .  accessit  quoque  M.  Borrhai,  de 
usu  quern  Spierae  turn  exemplum  turn  doctrina  afferat  judicium. 

[Geneva?    1550?]    8vo.    British  Museum. 


54  MARY  AUGUSTA  SCOTT. 

The  translator  was  Edward  Aglionby,  recorder  of  War- 
wick, as  appears  from  an  acrostic  contained  in  "An  Epigram 
of  the  terrible  example  of  one  Francis  Spera  an  Italian,  of 
whom  this  book  is  compiled."  The  translation  has  been  attri- 
buted to  Edmund  Allen,  who  died  bishop-elect  of  Rochester, 
in  1559. 

Francesco  Spiera,  or  Spera,  a  juris-consult  of  Padua,  became 
a  Protestant,  and  subsequently  retracted  that  faith  publicly 
before  the  Holy  Office  at  Venice.  Returning  to  Padua,  he 
died  shortly  afterwards  in  despair.  His  story  seems  to  have 
made  a  profound  impression  on  the  Protestant  world  of  the 
time,  and  for  long  after.  It  is  the  subject  of  an  Elizabethan 
comedy,  called  The  Conflict  of  Conscience,  1581,  by  Nathaniel 
Woodes,  a  minister  of  Norwich ;  "  in  The  Conflict  of  Con- 
science" says  John  Churton  Collins,  "  the  struggle  between 
the  old  faith  and  the  new  is  depicted  with  an  energy  which  is 
almost  tragic  in  its  intensity." 

Stationers'  Register  B,  for  June  15,  1587,  records,  .A  ballad 
of  master  Ffrauncis  an  Italian  a  Doctor  of  Lawe  who  denied 
the  lord  Jesus. 

I  find  also, 

A  Relation  of  the  Fearefull  Estate  of  Francis  Spira,  in  the 
yeare  154-8.  [By  N.  B.,  i.  e.,  Nathaniel  Bacon.] 

Printed  by  I.  L.  for  P.  Stephens,  and  C.  Meredith,  London, 
1638.  12mo.  British  Museum.  Also,  1640.  12mo.  British 
Museum.  1665. 

The  first  edition  of  the  Relation  came  out  anonymously, 
and  it  was  not  until  the  edition  of  1665  that  Nathaniel 
Bacon's  name  appeared  on  the  title-page,  when  he  is  said  to 
have  '  compiled '  the  book.  A  Welsh  translation  was  issued 
in  1820,  and  an  edition  of  1845,  is  styled,  "An  Everlasting 
Proof  of  the  Falsehood  of  Popery"  The  British  Museum 
contains  also  duodecimo  editions  of  the  Relation,  dated  1678, 
1681,  1683,  1688,  1784,  and  1815,  in  all  eleven  editions. 

A  French  tragedy  on  the  theme,  by  J.  D.  C.  G.,  is  entitled, 
Francois  8pera}  ou  le  Desespoir. 


ELIZABETHAN  TRANSLATIONS   FROM   THE   ITALIAN.       55 

1564.  Most  fruitfutt  &  learned  Comentaries  of .  .  .  .Peter 
Martir  Vwmil  [upon  the  Book  of  Judges']  ....  with  a  very 
profitable  tract  of  the  matter  and  places,  etc.  [  With  the  text.~\ 

J.  Day,  London,  1564.    Folio.    B.  L.    British  Museum. 

Dedicated  by  the  printer,  John  Daye,  to  the  "  Earle  of 
Lecester." 

A  translation  of  In  librum  Judicum  ...  P.  M.  Vermilii  .  .  . 
commentarii,  etc. 

[Zurich.    1561.     Folio.]    1571.     Folio.    British  Museum. 

Dedicated  to  Sir  Anthony  Cooke,  father  of  Lady  Bacon. 

Peter  Martyr  lectured  on  the  Book  of  Judges,  and  the 
ethics  of  Aristotle,  at  Strasburg,  before  a  kind  of  college  of 
the  English  exiles  of  Mary's  reign,  who  gathered  around  him 
there.  They  were  Edmund  Grindal,  afterwards  Archbishop 
of  Canterbury,  John  Jewel,  afterwards  Bishop  of  Salisbury 
and  author  of  the  Apologia  Ecclesiae  Anglicanae,  Alexander 
Nowell,  afterwards  Dean  of  St.  Paul's,  John  Ponet,  the  de- 
prived Bishop  of  Winchester,  Sir  John  Cheke,  Sir  Anthony 
Cooke,  Sir  Thomas  Wroth,  and  others. 

[1566.]  Pasquine  in  a  Traunce.  A  Christian  and  learned 
Dialogue  (contayning  wonderfull  and  most  strange  newes  out  of 
Heauen,  Purgatorie,  and  Hell)  Wherein  besydes  Christes  truth 
playnely  set  forth,  ye  shall  also  finde  a  numbre  of  pleasaunt 
hystories,  discouering  all  the  crafty  conueyaunces  of  Antechrist. 

Wherunto  are  added  certayne  Questions  then  put  forth  by  Pas- 
quine,  to  haue  bene  disputed  in  the  Councell  of  Trent.  Turned 
but  lately  out  of  Italian  into  this  tongue,  by  W.  P.  [histon  ?~\ 
JSeene  \_and]  allowed  according  to  the  order  appointed  in  the 

Queenes  Maiesties  Iniundions.  Luke  19.  Verily  I  tell  you,  that 
if  these  should  holde  their  peace,  the  stones  would  cry. 

Imprinted  at  London  by  Wylliam  Seres  dwelling  at  the 
Weast  ende  of  Paules  at  the  signe  of  the  Hedgehogge.  [1566.] 
[1550?  B.  M.]  4to.  Black  letter.  Huth.  British  Museum, 
(2  copies.)  Also,  no  date,  W.  Seres,  and  1584,  4to.,  Thomas 
Este. 


56  MAEY  AUGUSTA  SCOTT. 

This  is  a  translation  of  Pasquillus  Ecstaticus,  una  cum  aliis 
etiam  aliquot  sanctis  pariter  &  lepidis  Dialogis,  quibus  prae- 
cipua  religionis  nostrae  Capita  elegantissime  Explicantur. 

[Sine  loco  aut  anno.]    Small  8vo. 

This  book  was  written  by  Caelius  Secundus  Curio,  and 
was  printed  at  Basle  about  1550.  It  contains  an  account  of 
Curio's  escape  from  prison  in  Turin,  where  he  was  confined 
because  of  his  Evangelical  opinions. 

1568.  Most  learned  and  fruit/ull  Commentaries  of  D.  P. 
Martir  Vermilim  ....  upon  the  Epistle  of  8.  Paul  to  the 
Romanes;  wherin  are  ....  entreated  all  .  .  .  .  chief e  common 
places  of  religion  touched  in  the  same  Epistle.     With  a  table  of 
all  the  common  places,  and  expositions  upon  divers  places  of  the 
scriptures,  and  .  ...  an  Index  ....  Traslated  out  of  Latine 
into  Englishe  by  H.  B.  \_Heinrich  Bulling  erj]    [  With  the  text.~\ 

J.  Daye,  London,  1568.  Folio.  Black  letter.  British 
Museum,  (2  copies.) 

A  translation  of  In  epistolam  S.  Pauli  Apostoli  ad  Romanos 
P.  M.  Vermilii  ....  commentarii,  etc. 

[Basle.    1558.    Folio.]     1570.    Folio.    British  Museum. 

1569.  Most  Godly  Prayers  compiled  out  of  David's  Psalmes 
by  D.  Peter  Martyr.    [Edited  by  «7.  Simler,  and]  translated  out 
of  Latin  .  ...  by  Charles  Glemhan. 

W.  Seres,  London,  1569.  8vo.  Black  letter.  British 
Museum. 

A  translation  of  Preces  sacrae  ex  Psalmis  Davidis  desumptae 
per  D.  P.  M.  V.,  etc. 

Lyon.    1564.    16mo.    British  Museum. 

1568.  The  Eearfull  Fansies  of  the  Florentine  Couper: 
Written  in  Toscane,  by  John  Baptista  Gelli,  one  of  the  free 
Studie  of  Florence,  and  for  recreation  translated  into  English 
by  W.  Barker.  Pensoso  d'altrui.  Sene  &  allowed  according 
to  the  order  appointed. 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS   FROM   THE   ITALIAN.       57 

Imprinted  at  London  by  Henry  Bynneman.  Anno  1568. 
12mo.  138  leaves.  British  Museum.  Also,  1599.  12mo. 
British  Museum.  1702.  8vo. 

In  an  address  to  the  reader,  the  translator  says,  "  the  talke 
that  olde  lust  the  Couper  hadde  with  himself,  when  he  coulde 
not  slepe  did  minister  matter  to  the  maker  of  this  presente 
boke,  who  by  other  occasion  hath  made  diuers  other  to  his 
comendatio  in  the  Toscane  tong.  .  .  .  John  Baptista  Gellie, 
for  so  is  the  tailer  called,  and  for  his  wisedom  chief  of  the 
vulgar  uniuersitie  of  Florence,  when  I  was  ther,  did  pub- 
lish these  communications  of  lust  the  Couper  and  his  Soule, 
gathered  by  one  Sir  Byndo  his  nephew  and  a  notarie." 

The  work  is  divided  into  ten  dialogues  or  "Reasonings." — 
British  Bibliographer,  Vol.  II,  p.  207. 

Giambattista  Gelli  was  the  author  of  the  Dialogue  of  Circej 
translated  into  English,  in  1557,  by  Henry  Iden.  See  I. 
Romances  in  Prose. 

1576.  The  Droomme  of  Doomes  Day.  Wherein  the  frailties 
and  miseries  of  mans  lyfe,  are  lyuely  portrayed,  and  learnedly 
set  forth.  Diuided  as  appear eth  in  the  Page  next  following. 
Translated  and  collected  by  George  Gascoigne,  Esquyer.  Tarn 
Marti,  quam  Mercurio. 

Imprinted  at  London  for  Gabriell  Cawood  :  dwelling  in 
Panics  Churchyard,  at  the  Signe  of  the  holy  Ghost.  1576. 
4to.  Black  letter.  Pp.  276.  Huth.  British  Museum  (2 
copies);  1586.  4to.  Black  letter.  Huth.  British  Museum. 
Herbert  mentions  a  third  edition,  without  date. 

Dedicated  to  Francis,  second  Earl  of  Bedford,  to  whom 
Gascoigne  gives  the  following  account  of  the  book, — 

"And  thereupon,  not  many  monethes  since,  tossy ng  and 
retossyng  in  my  small  lybrarie,  amongest  some  bookes  which 
had  not  often  felte  my  fyngers  endes  in  xv  years  before,  I 
chaunced  to  light  upon  a  small  volumne  skarce  comely  covered, 
and  wel  worse  handled.  For,  to  tell  a  truth  unto  your  Honor, 
it  was  written  in  an  old  kynd  of  caracters,  and  so  torne,  as  it 


58  MARY   AUGUSTA   SCOTT. 

neyther  had  the  beginning  perspicuous  nor  the  end  perfect : 
so  that  I  cannot  certaynly  say,  who  shuld  be  the  Author  of 
the  same.  But  as  things  of  meane  shewe  outwardely,  are  not 
alwayes  to  bee  rejected,  even  so  in  thys  olde  tome  paumph- 
lette  I  found  sundrye  thinges,  as  mee  thought,  wrytten  with 
suche  zeale  and  affection,  and  tendynge  so  dyrectly  unto  the 
reformation  of  maners,  that  I  dyd  not  onelye  myselfe  take 
great  pleasure  in  perticuler  reading  thereof,  but  thought  them 
profitable  to  be  published  for  a  generall  commoditie :  and 
thereupon,  have  translated  and  collected  into  some  order  these 
sundry  parcells  of  the  same.  The  which  (as  well  bicause  the 
Ancthor  is  to  me  unknowen,  as  also  bicause  the  oryginal 
copies  had  no  peculyar  tytle,  but  cheefly  bicause  they  do  all 
tend  zealously  to  an  admonicion  whereby  we  may  every  man 
walke  warely  and  decently  in  his  vocation)  I  have  thought 
meete  to  eutytle  The  Droomme  of  Doomes  daye.  Thinking 
my  selfe  assured,  that  any  souldier  which  meaneth  to  march 
under  the  flagge  of  God's  favour,  may  by  sounde  of  this 
Droomme  be  awaked,  and  called  to  his  watch  and  warde 
with  right  sufficient  summons." 

The  Droomme  of  Doomes  Day  is  divided  into  three  parts, 
which  are  thus  set  forth  on  the  back  of  the  title, — 

I.  The  View  of  worldly  Vanities.  Exhorting  us  to  con- 
tempne  all  pompes,  pleasures,  delightts,  and  vanities  of 
this  lyfe. 

II.  The  Shame  of  Sinne.  Displaying  and  laying  open  the 
huge  greatnesse  and  enormities  of  the  same,  by  sundrye 
c/ood  examples  and  comparisons. 

III.  The  Needels  Eye.  Wherein  wee  are  taught  the  right 
rules  of  a  true  Christian  life,  and  the  straight  passage 
unto  everlasting  felicitie. 

Heereunto  is  added  a  private  Letter ;  the  which  doth  teach 
remedies  against  the  bitternesse  of  Death. 

Brydges,  Restituta^ol.  iv,  pp.  299-307. 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS   FROM   THE   ITALIAN.       59 

Part  I,  The  View  of  Worldly  Vanities,  is  a  translation  of 
Lotharius  de  miseria  humanae  conditionis  [1470?],  by  Lotario 
Conti,  Pope  Innocent  III.  It  is  curious  that  there  should 
have  been  another  translation  of  this  same  work  in  the  same 
year.  See  The  Mirror  of  Mans  lyfe.  .  .  .  Englished  by  Henry 
Kerton,  1  576,  from  the  same  treatise,  De  contemptu  mundi  sive 
de  miseria  humanae  conditionis. 

1576.  The  Mirror  of  Mans  lyfe:  Plainely  describing,  what 
weake  moulde  we  are  made  of:  what  miseries  we  are  subject 

«/  €/ 

unto :  howe  uncertaine  this  life  is :  and  what  shal  be  oure  end. 
Englished  by  H.  \_enry\  K.  \_erton~]. 

London.  H.  Bynneman.  1576.  8vo.  Black  letter.  British 
Museum.  1580,1586.  8vo.  (Allibone.)  With  The  Speculum 
Humanum,  a  short  poem  in  stanzas  of  eleven  lines,  by  Stephen 
Gosson,  at  the  end. 

Dedicated  to  Anne,  Countess  of  Pembroke. 

The  original  of  this  translation  is  a  very  popular  mediaeval 
work  on  the  contempt  of  the  work  written  by  that  ambitious 
prelate,  Lotario  Conti,  Pope  Innocent  III.  It  is  entitled,  in 
the  earliest  edition  I  have  met  with,  Liber  de  miseria  humane 
condiconis.  Lotarii  dyaconi  ....  anno  dni.  MCCCCXLVIII. 
Et  hi  tres  ptes.  Gothic  letter.  Few  MS.  Notes.  [1470?.] 
Folio.  .British  Museum. 

See  George  Gascoigne's  The  Droomme  of  Doomes  Day, 
1576. 

1576.  An  Epistle  for  the  godly  and  Christian  Bringing  up 
of  Christian  Mennes  Children,  or  Youth,  englished  by  W.  L. 
P.  of  Saint  Swithens,  by  London  Stone,  28  June,  1576.  16 mo. 
(Lowndes.) 

This  is  a  translation  from  Caelius  Secundus  Curio,  which  I 
find  catalogued  in  the  British  Museum,  as  follows  : — 

C.  S.  Ourionis  Christianae  Religionis  institutio  ....  Accessit 
epistola  .  .  .  .  de  pueris  sancte  christianeque  educandis. 

[Basle.]    1549.    8vo.   .MS.  Notes.    Partially  mutilated. 


60  MARY   AUGUSTA   SCOTT. 

1576.  A  brief e  and  most  excellent  Exposition  of  the  XII. 
Articles  of  our  Fayth,  translated  by  T.  P. 

London.    1576.    16mo. :  n.  d.    16mo.    (Lowndes.) 

A  translation  of  Peter  Martyr's  Una  semplice  dichiaratione 
sopra  gli  XII  Articoli  delta  Feda  Christiana. 

Basilea.    1544.    4to.    British  Museum. 

[1580?]  A  brief  e  Treatise,  Concerning  the  use  and  abuse  of 
Dauncing.  Collected  oute  of  the  learned  workes  of .  .  .  .  Peter 
Martyr,  by  Maister  Rob\eri\  Massonius  ;  and  translated  by  I. 
K.  [or  T.  K.,  according  to  the  dedicatory  epistle^] 

London,  by  John  Jugge.  [1580?.]  8vo.  Black  letter. 
British  Museum. 

1580.  Certaine  Godly  and  very  profitable  Sermons  of  Faithe 
Hope  and  Charitie ;  first  set  foorth  by  Master  Bernardine 
Occhine  ....  and  now  lately  collected  and  translated  out  of  the 
Italian  tongue  into  the  English  by  William  Phiston  of  London, 
student. 

London.   Tho.  East.   1580.    4to.  Black  letter.   100  leaves. 

Dedicated  to  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury.  A  collection 
of  thirty-eight  sermons,  or  rather  sections,  nineteen  on  Faith, 
eight  on  Hope,  and  eleven  on  Charity. 

1583.  The  Common  Places  of  .  .  .  .  Doctor  Peter  Martyr, 
diuided  into  foure  principall  parts :  with  a  large  addition  of 
manie  theologicall  and  necessarie  discourses,  some  never  extant 
before.  Translated  and  partly  gathered  by  A.  [nthony]  Marten, 
etc.  (An  oration  wherein  is  set  foorth  the  life  and  death  of .  .  .  . 
P.  Martyr  Vermillius  ....byJ.  Simlerus.) 

London.  1583.  Folio.  6  pts.  Black  letter.  British 
Museum,  (3  copies.) 

A  translation  of  Peter  Martyr's  Loci  communes  D.  P.  Mar- 
tyris  Vermilii  ex  variis  ipsius  authoris  scriptis  in  unum  librum 
collecti  &  in  quattuor  Classes  distributi,  etc.  [Edited  by  JR. 
Massonius,  with  the  preface  of  R.  Walther,  and  an  oration 
upon  the  life  of  the  author  by  Josias  Simler.~\ 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS    FROM   THE    ITALIAN.       61 

[1576.  Folio,  (Lowndes.)]  London.  T.  Vantrollerius, 
Londini.  1583.  Folio.  British  Museum.  Amsterdam  and 
Frankfort.  1656.  Folio.  British  Museum. 

1584.  The  contempte  of  the  world  and  the  vanitie  thereof, 
written  by  the  Reverend  F.  D.  de  Stella.  .  .  .  And  of  late  trans- 
lated out  of  Italian  into  Englishe  [by  G.  C.]  etc. 

[Douay?]  1584.  12mo.  British  Museum.  Also,  S.  Omers. 
1622.  8vo.  British  Museum. 

The  original  of  this  is  a  Spanish  work  by  Diego  de  Estella, 
entitled, — 

Primera  (-tercera)  parte  del  libro  de  la  vanitad  del  mundo. 

Salamanca.    1576.    8vo.    British  Museum. 

The  first  edition  appeared  in  Salamanca,  in  1574.  8vo. 
I  have  not  met  with  the  Italian  translation. 

[1600?]  Instructions  and  Advertisements,  how  to  meditate 
the  Misteries  of  the  Rosarie  of  the  most  Holy  Virgin  Mary. 
Written  in  Italian  [from  the  Latin  of  Gaspare  Loarte]  .... 
and  newly  translated  into  English.  (Litaniae  Deiparae  Vir- 
ginis  ....  quae  in  alma  domo  Lauretana  ....  decantari 
solent.) 

[Rouen?    1600?]    8vo.    British  Museum. 

[Another  edition.]  Whereunto  is  annexed  brief  Meditations 
for  the  seven  Evenings  and  Mornings  of  the  Weeke. 

Cardin  Hamillon,  Rouen.    1613.    12mo.    British  Museum. 

The  original  work,  by  the  Spanish  theologian,  Gaspare 
Loarte,  is  Meditationes  de  Rosario  B.  Virginis.  Venice,  1573. 

1606.  A  full  and  satisfactorie  answer  to  the  late  unadvised 
Bull,  thundered  by  Pope  Paul  the  Fift,  against  the  renowned 
State  of  Venice :  being  modestly  entitled  by  the  learned  author, 
Considerations  upon  the  censure  of  Pope  Paul  the  Fift  [against 
the  Republic  of  Venice].  .  .  .  Translated  out  of  Italian  [of 
Pietro  Sarpi,  Fra  Paolo  Servitd]. 

Printed  for  J.  Bill.    London.    1606.    4to.    British  Museum. 


62  MARY   AUGUSTA    SCOTT. 

I  take  this  to  be  a  translation  of  Father  Paul's  Trattato  delV 
Interdetto.  Venice.  1606.  4to. 

On  April  17,  1606,  Pope  Paul  Y.  pronounced  sentence  of 
excommunication  against  the  doge,  senate  and  government 
of  Venice.  The  Venetian  clergy  were  enjoined  to  publish  the 
letter  of  interdict  before  their  assembled  congregations,  and  to 
fix  it  on  the  church  doors.  The  government  of  Venice  took 
the  ground  that  the  pope's  bull  was  in  itself  null  and  void, 
and  on  May  6,  1606,  the  doge,  Leonardo  Donato,  issued 
two  short  proclamations,  making  known  to  the  citizens  and 
clergy  the  resolution  of  the  republic  to  maintain  the  sovereign 
authority,  "  which  acknowledges  no  other  superior  in  worldly 
things  save  God  alone."  The  clergy  did  not  hesitate ;  they 
obeyed  the  republic  and  not  a  copy  of  the  brief  was  posted. 
(Ranke,  History  of  the  Popes,  Bk.  VI.,  pp.  122-3,  of  E. 
Foster's  translation.  Bohn.  1856.) 

For  an  account  of  the  dispute,  see  The  History  of  the  Quarrels 
of  Pope  Paul  V.  with  the  State  of  Venice.  1626. 

1606.  A  Declaration  of  the  Variance  betweene  the  Pope,  and 
the  Segniory  of  Venice,  with  the  proceedings  and  present  state 
thereof.  Whereunto  is  annexed  a  Defence  of  the  Venetians, 
written  by  an  Italian  doctor  of  Divinitie  [i.  e.  Fulgenzio  Man- 
fredi  ?~\  against  the  Censure  of  Paulus  Quintus,  [of  17  April, 
1606\  prooving  the  nullitie  thereof  by  Holy  Scriptures,  etc. 

1606.  4to.  British  Museum,  (2  copies).  See  The  History 
of  the  Quarrels  of  Pope  Paul  V.  with  the  State  of  Venice.  1626. 

Fulgenzio  Manfredi  was  a  Franciscan  who,  during  the 
interdict,  preached  against  the  Pope  and  the  Jesuits.  After 
the  Venetians  had  made  peace  with  Rome,  he  was  pensioned 
by  the  State,  and  received  for  his  own  Order  of  St.  Francis  a 
grant  of  the  House  of  the  expelled  Jesuits.  But,  says  Bedell, 
"  it  was  sodenly  noised  y*  he  was  departed  "  (to  Rome).  Sir 
Henry  Wotton  writes,  April  23,  1610,  that  he  was  drawn 
"  from  hence  long  since  under  safe  conduct."  In  Rome,  Fra 
Fulgenzio  was  accused  of  correspondence  with  King  James  I., 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS    FROM    THE    ITALIAN.       63 

through  the  English  ambassador,  and  was  burnt  at  the  stake 
in  the  Field  of  Flora.  Sir  Henry  Wotton,  under  date  October 
29,  1610,  strenuously  denies  any  dealings  with  the  friar,  and 
speaks  of  his  execution  as  recent. 

1606.  Meditations  uppon  the  Passion  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ.  .  .  .  Newlie  translated  out  of  Italian  [of  Fulvio 
Androzzt]  into  English. 

[Douay?]    1606.    12mo.    British  Museum. 

1608.  A  true  copie  of  the  Sentence  of  the  high  Councell  of 
tenne  Judges  [  Consiglio  de'  Died]  in  the  State  of  Venice,  against 
R.  [pdolfo\  Poma,  M.  Viti,  .  .  .  .  A.  \_lessandro]  Parrasio, 
John  of  Florence  [  Giovanni  da  Firenze]  ....  and  Pasquall  of 
Bitonto;  who  ....  attempted  a  ....  murder  upon  the  person 
of  .  .  .  .  Paolo  Servite.  .  .  .  Translated  out  of  Italian.  (A 
Proclamation  made  for  the  assecuration  of  the  person  of  .  .  .  . 
Paolo  Servite,  .  ...  in  execution  of  a  Decree  accorded,  in  the 
....  Councell  of  the  Pregadie  upon  the  27.  of  Oct.  1607. — A 
Decree  made  in  the  .  .  .  .  Councell  of  Tenne,  1607,  the  9.  of 
Januarie,  etc.  [  With  two  Latin  Poems,  "In  Innocentiam,''  by 
0.  Mavinus,  and  "In  Meretricem  dolosam."'] 

H.  Lownes,  for  S.  Macham,  London,  1608.  4to.  British 
Museum. 

On  the  5th  of  October,  1607,  at  five  in  the  afternoon,  Fra 
Paolo  was  returning  from  the  Ducal  Palace,  accompanied  by 
Fra  Marino,  his  servant,  and  Alexander  Malipiero,  an  old 
patrician.  The  party  had  reached  the  Ponte  della  Fonda- 
menta,  near  the  Servite  Convent,  when  a  band  of  bravoes 
rushed  upon  them.  One  seized  Fra  Marino,  another  Mali- 
piero, while  a  group  occupied  the  bridge,  keeping  it  against 
all  comers.  The  assassin  who  had  singled  out  Fra  Paolo 
rained  upon  him  fifteen  or  twenty  blows  of  his  poniard,  aim- 
ing at  his  head.  His  cap  and  the  collar  of  his  dress  were 
pierced  through  and  through,  but  only  three  of  the  stabs  took 
effect,  two  in  the  neck  and  the  last,  through  the  right  ear  out 


64  MARY   AUGUSTA   SCOTT. 

through  the  right  cheek  bone.  Fra  Paolo  fell  as  if  dead, 
with  the  weapon  sticking  in  the  wound. 

The  assassins  were  Rodolfo  Poma,  a  Venetian;  Alessandro 
Parrasio,  of  Ancona ;  Michael  Viti,  a  priest  of  Bergamo; 
Pasquale,  of  Bitonto;  John_,  of  Florence;  Hector,  of  Ancona, 
and  others  unknown,  all,  except  perhaps  Viti,  common  and 
hired  bravoes.  After  the  attempted  assassination,  Poma  and 
his  confererates  fled  into  the  Papal  States.  At  Ancona  he 
received  from  Franceschi,  a  Venetian  priest,  a  letter  of  credit 
for  one  thousand  ducats,  payable  by  Scalamonte,  the  Pope's 
agent. 

In  Rome  the  bravoes  found  an  asylum  for  more  than  a 
year  in  the  palace  of  Cardinal  Colonna,  although  the  Cardinal 
Inquisitor  was  all  the  while  assuring  the  Venetian  Legation 
that  some  one  of  them  would  surely  be  apprehended.  When 
public  clamor  became  too  pronounced,  Pope  Paul  V.  ordered 
his  Nuncio  at  Naples  to  provide  for  the  assassins,  at  the  same 
time  begging  the  intercession  of  Henry  IV.,  of  France,  to 
induce  the  Venetians  to  suspend  the  inquiry.  This  the  Vene- 
tians had  no  intention  of  doing,  and  it  was  a  large  body  of 
assassins  plotting  with  a  still  larger  body  of  enemies  of  Fra 
Paolo.  Finally,  towards  the  end  of  the  year  1608,  the  serious 
indiscretions  of  these  people,  induced  the  Roman  Curia  to 
change  its  policy.  Poma,  Parrasio,  and  Viti  were  thrown 
into  the  dungeons  of  Civita  Vecchia,  where  they  perished, 
and  Franceschi  disappeared. 

While  Fra  Paolo  lay  at  death's  door,  the  Council  of  Ten, 
the  Senate,  and  the  people  vied  with  one  another  in  testifying 
to  their  respect  and  admiration  for  him.  The  people  sur- 
rounded the  convent,  broke  out  into  imprecations  against 
Rome,  and  attempted  to  burn  the  palace  of  the  Bishop  of 
Rimini.  The  republic  called  in  the  best  surgeons  at  its  own 
expense,  and  after  Fra  Paolo's  recovery,  created  Fabrizi 
d'Acquapendente,  his  chief  physician,  a  Cavaliere  di  San 
Marco,  presenting  him  with  a  rich  gold  chain  and  a  silver 
cup  of  forty  ducats'  weight ;  an  additional  pension  was  offered 
to  Fra  Paolo,  who  refused  it. 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS    FROM   THE    ITALIAN.       65 

The  poniard  with  which  the  wound  was  inflicted  was 
affixed  to  a  crucifix  in  the  church  of  the  Servites,  with  the 
inscription  Deo  Filio  Liberatori. 

1608.  Newes  from  Italy,  of  a  second  Moses,  or  the  life  of 
Galeacius  Caracciolus  the  noble  Marquesse  of  Vico.  Containing 
the  story  of  his  admirable  conuersion  from  popery,  and  his  for- 
saking of  a  rich  Marquessedome  for  the  Gospels  sake.  Written 
first  in  Italian,  \by  Niccolb  Balbani\  thence  translated  into  latin 
by  Reuerend  Beza,  and  for  the  benefit  of  our  people  put  into 
English:  and  now  published  by  W.  Crashaw  Batcheler  in 
Diuinitie,  and  Preacher  at  the  Temple.  In  memoria  sempiterna 
erit  lustus.  Psalme  11%.  The  iust  shall  be  had  in  euerlasting 
remembrance. 

Printed  by  H.  B.  for  Richard  Moore,  and  are  to  be  sold 
at  his  shop  in  Saint  Dunstans  Churchyard  in  Fleete  streete. 
1608.  4to.  Pp.  82.  British  Museum.  Also,  1612.  4to. 
Brit.  Mus.  1635.  4to.  Brit.  Mus.  1655.  8vo.  1662.  8vo. 
The  last  three  editions  are  called  The  Italian  Convert. 

Dedicated  to  Edmund  Lord  Sheffield,  the  Lady  Dowglasse 
his  mother,  and  Lady  Ursula  his  wife ; — 

"  Give  me  leaue  (right  honourable),  to  put  you  all  in  one 
Epistle,  whom  God  and  nature  haue  linked  so  well  to-gether : 
Nature  in  the  neerest  bond,  and  God  in  the  holiest  religion. 
For  a  simple  new-yeares  gift,  I  present  you  with  as  strange 
a  story,  as  (out  of  holy  stories)  was  euer  heard.  Will  your 
Honoures  haue  the  whole  in  briefe  afore  it  be  laid  downe  at 
large?  Thus  it  is. 

u  Galeacius  Caracciolus,  sonne  and  heire  apparent  to  Calan- 
tonius,  Marquesse  of  Vicum  in  Naples,  bred,  borne  [Jan. 
1517]  and  brought  up  in  Popery,  a  Courtier  to  the  Emperour 
Charles  the  fift,  nephew  to  the  Pope  Paul  the  fourth,  being 
married  to  the  Duke  of  Nucernes  daughter,  and  hauing  by 
her  six  goodly  children ;  at  a  sermon  of  Peter  Martyrs  was 
first  touched,  after  by  reading  Scripture  and  other  good 
meanes,  was  fully  conuerted ;  laboured  with  his  Lady,  but 
5 


66  MARY   AUGUSTA    SCOTT. 

could  not  perswade  her.  Therefore  that  he  might  enioy 
Christ,  and  serue  him  with  a  quiet  conscience,  he  left  the 
lands,  liuings,  and  honoures  of  a  Marquesdom,  the  comforts 
of  his  Lady  and  children,  the  pleasures  of  Italy,  his  credit 
with  the  Emperour,  his  kinred  with  the  Pope,  and  forsaking 
all  for  the  loue  of  Jesus  Christ,  came  to  Geneua,  and  there 
liued  a  poore  and  meane,  but  yet  an  honourable  and  holy  life 
for  fortie  yeares.  And  though  his  father,  his  Lady,  his  kinse- 
man ;  yea,  the  Emperour  and  the  Pope  did  all  they  could  to 
reclaime  him,  yet  continued  he  constant  to  the  end,  and  liued 
and  died  the  blessed  seruant  of  God,  about  fifteene  yeares 
agoe,  leauing  behind  him  a  rare  example  to  all  ages." 

The  work  is  divided  into  thirty  chapters,  and  the  incidents 
of  the  life  of  the  Marquis  of  Vico  are  principally  those  which 
connect  him  with  Peter  Martyr  and  Calvin.  See  Censura 
Literaria,  Vol.  x,  pp.  105-7. 

William  Crashaw  was  the  father  of  Richard  Crashaw,  the 
poet. 

1 608.  This  History  of  our  B.  Lady  of  Loreto.  Traslated 
out  of  Latyn,  [by  T.  P.  i.  e.  Thomas  Price,  from  Orazio  Tor- 
sellino~\,  etc. 

[Saint  Omer.]    1608.     12mo.    British  Museum. 

I  take  this  to  be  a  translation  from  Torsellino's  Lauretanae 
historiae  lib.  V.  Rome.  1597.  4to. 

Loreto,  or  Loretto,  is  a  small  town  in  the  Marches  of 
Ancona,  which  contains  the  celebrated  shrine,  the  Santa  Casa, 
reputed  to  be  the  veritable  house  of  the  Virgin,  transported 
by  angels  from  Nazareth,  out  of  the  hands  of  the  Saracens, 
and  miraculously  set  down  in  Italy,  December  10,  1294. 
Over  it  Bramante  built  the  Chiesa  delta  Santa  Casa,  a  beauti- 
ful late-pointed  church  of  1465,  with  a  Renaissance  marble 
fapade.  The  Santa  Casa  within  is  a  cottage  built  of  brick, 
forty-four  feet  long,  twenty-nine  and  a  half  feet  wide,  and 
thirty-six  feet  high ;  the  interior  reveals  the  rough  masonry 
of  the  supposed  original,  but  the  white  marble  casing,  put  on 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS   FROM   THE   ITALIAN.       67 

in  columns,  niches,  and  panels,  is  sculptured  over  by  Sanso- 
vino  with  scenes  from  the  life  of  the  Virgin.  Within  the 
rude  stone  cottage  there  is  a  Madonna  and  Child,  a  wonderful 
black  image  carved,  it  is  said,  by  St.  Luke  from  cedar  of 
Lebanon.  Church  and  chapel  together  form  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  productions  of  Renaissance  art.  Richard  Crashaw 
was  a  canon  of  the  Holy  House  of  Loreto  for  a  short  time, 
and  was  buried  in  the  Lady  Chapel  there. 

[1609.]  Flos  Sanctorum.  The  Lives  of  the  Saints.  Written 
in  Spanish  by  .  .  .  .A.  [Jfonso  de\  Villegas.  .  .  .  Translated 
out  of  Italian  into  English,  and  compared  with  the  Spanish. 
By  W.  &  E.  \dward\  K.  [insman]  B.  [rothers].  Tome  I.  [of 
three  tomes  intended.) 

[1609.]  4to.  British  Museum.  1615.  8vo.  British 
Museum. 

An  Appendix  of  the  Saints  lately  Canonized  and  Beatifyed 
by  Paule  thefift  and  Gregorie  the  Fifteenth.  [Lives,  translated 
and  abridged  by  E.  KJ\ 

H.  Taylor.    Doway.    1624.    12mo.    British  Museum. 

One  of  the  Lives  of  this  Appendix  is,  The  Life  of  S.  Charles 
Borromeus,  translated  into  English  [by Edward  Kinsman,  from  the 
Italian  of  Giovanni  Pietro  Giussani,  (  Vita  di  S.  Carlo  Borromeo, 
arcivescovo  di  Milano.  Roma.  1610.  4to.  British  Museum). 

Another  edition. 

Lives  of  the  Saints.  .  .  .  Whereunto  are  added  the  lives  of 
sundry  other  Saints  ....  extracted  out  of  F.  Ribadeneira, 
Suruis,  and  out  of  other  approved  authors.  The  third  edition. 
(An  apendix  of  the  Saints  lately  canonized,  and  Beatified,  by 
Paul  the  fifth,  and  Gregorie  the  fifteenth  [translated  into  Eng- 
lish by  E.  Kinsman]).  2  pts. 

[J.  Heigham.    St.  Omer.]    1630.    4to.    British  Museum. 

Another  edition. 

With  the  lives  of  S.  Patrick,  S.  Brigid,  and  S.  Columba.  .  .  . 
All  newly  corrected  and  adorned  with  many  brasen  picteurs,  etc. 

J.  Consturier.    [Rouen.]    1636.    4to.    British  Museum. 


68  MARY   AUGUSTA   SCOTT. 

The  original  of  this  popular  collection  of  the  lives  of  the 
saints  is, 

[Flos  Sanctorum,  Historia  general  de  la  vida  y  heehos  de 
Jesu  Christo,  y  de  todos  los  santos  de  que  reza  la  Iglesia  Catolica. 
By  Alfonso  de  Villegas.] 

[Toledo:  1583?]  Folio.  British  Museum.  Imperfect. 
The  last  leaf  of  another  and  earlier  edition,  numbered  464 
and  dated  1578,  is  placed  at  the  end,  but  the  text  is  still 
incomplete. 

The  standard  Spanish  edition  of  the  Flos  Sanctorum  is  that 
of  Pedro  de  Ribadeneira, 

Flos  sanctorum,  o  Libro  de  las  vidas  de  los  santos. 

Madrid.    1599-1610.    2  vols.    Folio. 

Rlbadeneira's  most  celebrated  life  is  that  of  the  founder  of 
his  order,  St.  Ignatius  Loyola,  Vida  de  8.  Ignacio  de  Loyola. 

Madrid.    1570.    8vo. 

The  Italian  translation  is  by  Timoteo  da  Bagno  :  Nuova 
Leggendario  della  vita,  e  fatti  di  N.  S.  Giesu  Christo,  e  di  tutti 
i  Santi  delli  quali  celebra  la  festa  ....  /a  chiesa  catholica  .... 
insieme  con  le  Vite  di  molti  altri  Santi,  che  non  sono  nel .... 
Breviario  ....  Raccolto  .  .  .  .  e  dato  in  luce  per  avanti  in 
lingua  Spagnuola,  sotto  titolo  di  Flos  Sanctorum  per  A.  di  V. 
et  .  .  .  .  tradotto  .  ...  in  lingua  Italiana,  per  T.  da  Bagno. 
.  .  .  Aggiuntovi  in  questa  editione  le  vite  e  fatti  d'alcuni  Santi 
e  Beati  lequali  neW  altre  si  desideravano.  (Leggendario  delle 
Vita  de1  Santi  detti  Estravaganti.)  2  pts. 

Venetia.    1604,  5.    4to.    British  Museum. 

[1615?]  Certaine  devout  considerations  of  frequenting  the 
Blessed  Sacrament:  ....  With  sundrie  other  preceptes.  .  .  . 
Firste  written  in  Italian  ....  and  now  translated  into  English 
\_byJ.  G.]. 

[Douay?    1615?]    12mo.    British  Museum. 

From  the  Italian  of  Fulvio  Androzzi. 

1616.  A  manifestation  of  the  motives,  whereupon  .  .  .  .  M. 
A.  de  Dominis,  Archbishop  of  Spalatro,  Undertooke  his  depar- 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS    FROM   THE   ITALIAN.       69 

ture  thence.  Ihglished  out  of  his  Latine  Copy.  (Decretum 
Sawae  Congregationis  ....  Cardinalium  .  ...  ad  ludicem 
I/ibrorum  ....  deputatorum  [condemning  the  worli\. — The 
same  in  English. — A  par  cell  of  Observations  upon  ....  this 
Decree.  A  letter  .  .  .  .  to  the  aforesaid  Archbish.  by  G.  Lingels- 
heim,  etc.  Lat.  and  Eng.) 

J.  Bill :  London.    1616.    4to.    British  Museum. 

1617.  A  Sermon  preached  ....  the  first  Sunday  in  Advent , 
Anno.  1617.  in  the  Mercers  Chappel  in  London,  to  the  Italians 
in  that  city,  ....  upon  the  12.  verse  of  the  XIII  Chapter  to  the 
Romanes.  .  .  .     Translated  into  English. 

J.Bill:  London.     1617.    4to.    British  Museum. 
By  Marco  Antonio  de  Dominis. 

1618.  The  rockes  of  Christian  Shipwraclce,  discovered  by  the 
Holy  Church  of  Christ  to  her  beloved  Children,  that  they  may 
keepe  aloof e  from  them.     Written  in  Italian  by  ....  M.  A.  De 
Dominis  and  thereout  translated  into  English. 

J.  Bill:  London.    1618.    4to.    British  Museum. 

1619.  The  life  of  the  Holy ....  Mother  Suor  Maria  Madda- 
lena  de  Patsi  ....  written  in  Italian  by  ...  .V.  \_incenzo]  P. 
\_uccini]  and  now  translated  into  English  [by  G.  B.]. 

[Cologne  ?]    1619.    8 vo.    British  Museum. 

The  title  of  a  later  and  different  translation  reads, — The 
Life  of  St.  Mary  Magdalene  of  Pazzi,  a  Carmelite  Nunn. 
Newly  translated  [and  abridged]  out  of  the  Italian  by  the 
Reverend  Father  Lezin  de  Sainte  Scholastique.  .  .  .  And  now 
done  out  of  French:  with  a  preface  concerning  the  nature, 
causes,  concomitance,  and  consequences  of  ecstasy  and  rapture, 
and  a  brief  discourse  added  about  discerning  and  trying  the 
Spirits,  whether  they  be  of  God  [by  T.  Smith]. 

E.Taylor:  London.  1687.  4to.  Pp.134.  British  Museum, 
(6  copies). 


70  MARY   AUGUSTA   SCOTT. 

The  Italian  original  is, — 

Vita  delta  veneranda  Madre  Suor  Maria  Maddalena  dey 
Pazzi,  etc. 

Firenze.  1611.  4to.  British  Museum.  Imperfect,  con- 
taining pp.  546  only. 

Cattarina  de  Geri  de'  Pazzi,  1566-1607,  was  of  a  noble 
Florentine  family  and  daughter  of  a  governor  of  Cortona. 
She  entered  the  order  of  Carmelites  of  Santa  Maria  degli 
Angeli,  May  27,  1584,  taking  the  name  in  religion  of  Suora 
Maria  Maddalena.  Her  life  was  also  written  by  Father 
Virgil io  Cepari,  author  of  the  Life  of  St.  Louis  di  Gonzaga. 

1620.  The  Historie  of  the  Councel  of  Trent  Conteining  eight 
Bookes.  In  which  (besides  the  ordinarie  Actes  of  the  Councell) 
are  declared  many  notable  occurrences,  which  happened  in 
Christendome  during  the  space  of  fourtie  yeares  and  more. 
And  particularly,  the  practices  of  the  Court  of  Rome,  to  hinder 
the  Reformation  of  their  errors,  and  to  maintaine  their  great- 
nesse.  Written  in  Italian  by  Pietro  Soave  Polano  and  faithfully 
translated  into  English  by  Nathanael  Brent  [Sir  Nathaniel 
Brenf]. 

R.  Barker  and  J.  Bill :  London.  1620.  Folio.  Pp.  825. 
British  Museum.  Also,  London,  1629.  Folio.  Brit.  Mus. 
1640.  Folio.  Brit.  Mus.  1676.  Folio.  (With  the  Life  of 
Father  Paul,  by  Fra  Fulgenzio  Micanzio,  translated  by  a 
'  Person  of  Quality/  and  the  History  of  the  Inquisition,  trans- 
lated by  Robert  Gentilis).  British  Museum. 

Unto  this  second  edition  are  added  divers  ....  Passages 
and  Epistles,  concerning  the  trueth  of  this  historic,  etc. 

B.  Norton  and  J.  Bill :  London.    1629.    Folio. 

Dedicated  (1620)  both  to  King  James  I.  and  to  the  Arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury. 

This  work  is  a  translation  of  Father  Paul's, 

Historia  del  Concilio  Tridentino,  nella  quale  si  scoprono 
tutti  gV  artificii  delta  Corte  di  Roma,  per  impedire  che  ne 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS    FROM   THE   ITALIAN.       71 

la  veritd  di  dogmi  si  palesasse,  ne  la  riforma  del  Papato,  & 
della  Chiesa  si  trattasse.  Di  Pietro  Soave  Polano.  [Edited  by 
Marco  Antonio  de  Dominis,  successively  Bishop  of  Segni  and 
Archbishop  of  Spalatro.] 

Appresso  G.  Billio,  Londra,  1619.  Folio.  Pp.  806.  British 
Museum,  (5  copies). 

Marco  Antonio  de  Dominis,  a  Jesuit  and  Archbishop  of 
Spalatro,  was  a  friend  of  Father  Paul's.  Upon  going  to 
England,  about  1616,  it  is  said  that  he  took  with  him  the 
manuscript  of  the  Historia  del  Concilio  Tridentino,  which 
Father  Paul  had  lent  him. 

Izaac  Walton,  in  his  Life  of  Sir  Henry  Wotton,  says  that 
Father  Paul's  '  History '  was  sent,  as  fast  as  it  was  written, 
"  in  several  sheets  in  letters  by  Sir  Henry  Wotton,  Mr.  Bedel, 
and  others,  unto  King  James,  and  the  then  Bishop  of  Canter- 
bury, into  England,  and  there  first  made  public,  both  in 
English  and  the  universal  language." 

Anthony  aWood  furnishes  the  information  that  Sir  Nathaniel 
Brent  "travelled  into  several  parts  of  the  learned  world,  in 
1613-14,  etc.,  and  underwent  dangerous  adventures  in  Italy 
to  procure  the  Historic  of  the  Councel  of  Trent,  which  he  trans- 
lated into  English." 

At  all  events,  De  Dominis  professed  Protestantism  in  Eng- 
land, and  was  made  dean  of  Windsor  by  King  James  I.,  and 
it  was  under  royal  favor,  and  without  the  consent  of  Father 
Paul,  that  the  work  was  brought  out  in  London.  (See  a  letter 
written  by  Fra  Fulgenzio,  secretary  to  Fra  Paolo,  November 
11,  1609,  in  A.  Bianchi-Giovini's  Biografia  di  Fra  Paolo 
Sarpi.  Zurich,  1836.) 

The  author's  name  as  given  in  the  English  title,  Pietro 
Soave  Polano,  is  an  anagram  of  Paolo  Sarpi  Veneto. 

A  Latin  translation  of  Fra  Paolo's  Historia  dell'  Concilio 
Tridentino  was  made  by  Adam  Newton,  dean  of  Durham, 
afterwards  Sir  Adam  Newton,  and  William  Bedell,  after- 
wards Bishop  of  Kilmore,  the  first  six  books  being  translated 
by  Newton,  and  the  last  two  by  Bedell.  The  title  reads : 


72  MARY   AUGUSTA   SCOTT. 

Petri  Suavis  Polani 
Historiae  Concilii  Tridentini 

Libri  Odo 
Ex  Italids  summafide  et  accuratione  Latinifacti 

Veniet  qui  conditam,  et  seculi  sui  malignitate  compressam 
Veritatem,  dies  publicet.  Etiam  si  omnibus  tecum  viventibus 
silentium  livor  indixerit;  venient  qui  sine  offensa,  sine  gratia 
judieent.  Nihil  simulatio  proficit,  pauds  imponit  leviter  ex- 
trinsecus  induda  fades;  veritas  in  omnem  partem  sui  semper 
eadem  est.  Quae  dedpiunt,  nihil  habent  solidi.  Tenue  est 
mendadum:  perlucent,  si  diligenter  inspexeris. 

Seneca,  infineEpist.  LXXIX. 
Augustae  Trinobantum.    [London.] 

M  .  DC  .  XX  . 

I  find  an  interesting  reference  to  the  composition  of  the 
Historia  del  Condlio  Tridentino  in  that  most  curious  book, 
the  autobiography  of  William  Lilly  the  astrologer, — 

"It  happened,"  says  Lilly,  "that  after  I  discerned  what 
astrology  was,  I  went  weekly  into  Little-Britain,  and  bought 
many  books  of  astrology,  not  acquainting  Evans  therewith. 
[John  Evans  was  an  astrologer  from  whom  Lilly  was  at 
the  time  learning  the  tricks  of  the  trade.]  Mr.  A.  Beddell, 
minister  of  Tottenham-High-Cross,  near  London,  who  had 
been  many  years  chaplain  to  Sir  Henry  Wotton,  whilst  he 
was  ambassador  at  Venice,  and  assisted  Pietro  Soave  Polano, 
in  composing  and  writing  the  Council  of  Trent,  was  lately 
dead ;  and  his  library  being  sold  in  Little-Britain,  I  bought 
amongst  them  my  choicest  books  of  astrology." 

William  Lilly's  History  of  his  Life  and  Times,  from  the  year 
1602  to  1681.  Written  by  Himself,  in  the  sixty-sixth  year  of 
his  age,  to  his  worthy  friend,  Elias  Ashmole,  Esq.  Published 
from  the  original  MS.  London.  1715. 

Lilly's  autobiography  is  also  to  be  found  in, — Autobiography. 
A  Collection  of  the  Most  Instructive  and  Amusing  Lives  ever  Pub- 
lished. Written  by  the  Parties  themselves.  London.  1829-30. 
Vol.  n.  (Containing  the  lives  of  Hume,  Lilly  and  Voltaire.) 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS    FROM   THE   ITALIAN.       73 

Lilly  is  in  error  as  to  the  owner  of  the  library  sold  in 
Little  Britain.  He  bought  books  that  had  belonged  to 
William  Bedwell  (1561  or  2-1632),  father  of  Arabic  studies 
iu  England.  When  he  says  that  Bedwell  was  chaplain  to 
Sir  Henry  Wotton,  he  confuses  him  with  William  Bedell, 
1571-1642,  Bishop  of  Ardagh  and  Kilmore.  Bedell  was 
chaplain  to  Sir  Henry  Wotton,  and  remained  in  Venice  for 
eight  years,  acquiring  great  reputation  as  a  scholar  and  theo- 
logian. He  was  a  close  friend  of  Fra  Paolo,  and  made  a  Latin 
version  of  his  Historia  deW  Interdetto  (Venice,  1624,  4to.), 
entitled  Interdicti  Veneti  Historia,  etc.  (Cambridge,  1626,  4to.) 
He  also  translated  the  book  of  Common  Prayer  into  Italian. 

Fra  Paolo's  point  of  view  is,  that  the  Council  of  Trent  was 
a  political,  and  not  a  religious,  congress ;  it  is  said  that  Sir 
Henry  Wotton,  sending  the  Father's  portrait  to  England, 
wrote  under  it — Concilii  Tridentini  eviscerator.  See  the 
papers  added  to  Burnet's  Life  of  Bedell.  London.  1692. 

1620.  A  Relation  of  the  Death  of  the  most  illustrious  Lord, 
Sigr  Troilo  Sauelli,  a  baron  of  Rome,  ivho  was  there  beheaded 
in  the  castle  of  Sant  Angelo,  on  the  18  of  Aprill,  1592. 

Anonymous,  but  ascribed  to  Sir  Tobie  Matthew  by  Henry 
Peacham  in  Truth  of  our  Time,  p.  102. 

The  penitent  Bandito,  or  the  Historie  of  the  Conversion  and 
Death  of  the  most  illustrious  Lord  Signior  Troilo  Savelli  a 
Baron  of  Rome.  [Translated]  by  Sir  T.  M.  \atthew~\  Knight. 

1663.  12mo.  British  Museum. 

This  edition  contains  the  author's  [translator's]  name  in 
full  in  Anthony  a  Wood's  handwriting. 

1620.  Good  Newes  to  Christendome.  Sent  to  a  Venetian 
in  Ligorne,  from  a  Merchant  in  Alexandria.  Discovering  a 
wonderfull  and  strange  Apparition  ....  seene  ....  over  the 
place,  where  the  supposed  Tombe  of  Mahomet  .  ...  is  inclosed. 
.  .  .  Done  out  of  Italian  [of  Lodovico  Cortano~\. 

Printed  for  N.  Butter:  London.  1620.  4to.  British 
Museum,  (3  copies). 


74  MARY   AUGUSTA   SCOTT. 

1621.  The  Treasure  of  vowed  Chastity  in  secular  Persons. 
Also  the  Widdowes  Glasse:  abridged  out  of  .  .  .  .  FuLvius 
Androtius  \_Fulvio  Androzzi]  ....  and  others.  Translated 
into  English  by  J.  W. 

[Douay?]    1621.    24mo.    British  Museum. 

1623.  M.  A.  de  Dominis  ....  declares  the  cause  of  his 
Returne,  out  of  England.     Translated  out  of  the  Latin  Copy 
printed  at  Rome. 

[Douay?]  1623.    12rno.    British  Museum. 
A  different  English  translation  of  this  work  appeared  in 
1827,  entitled,— 

My  motives  for  renouncing  the  Protestant  Religion. 

London.    1827.    8vo.    British  Museum. 

1624.  The  Psalter  of  Jesus,  contayninge  very  devoute  and 
godlie  petitions.    Newlie  imprinted  and  amplified  with  enriche- 
ment  of  figures.    (A  Mirrour  to  Confesse  well.  .  .  .    Abridged 
out  of  sundry  confessionals,  by  a  certaine  devout,  and  religious 
man  [John  Heigham~\. — Certaine  ....  very  pious  and  godly 
considerations,  proper  to  be  exercised,  whilst  the  .  .  .  .  Sacrifice 
of  the  Masse  is  celebrated  .   .   .   .  By  J.  Heigham. — Divers 
Devout  considerations  for  the  more  worthy  receaving  of  the  .  .  .  . 
Sacrament,  collected  .  .  .  .  by  J.  Heigham. — Certaine  advertis- 
ments  teaching  men  how  to  lead  a  Christian  life.     Written  in 
Italia  by  S.  Charles  Boromeus. — A  briefe  and  profitable  exer- 
cise of  the  seaven  principall  effusions  of  the  .  .  .  .  blood  of .  .  .  . 
Jesus  Christ.  .  .  .     Translated  ....  into  English  .  .  .  .  by  J. 
Heigham.)    6  pts. 

Doway,  s.  Omers.    1624.    12mo.    British  Museum. 
This  is  a  revised  edition  of  Richard  Whytford's  Psalter. 

1625.  The  Free  Schoole  of  Warre,  or,  a  Treatise,  whether  it 
be  lawfull  to  beare  armes  for  the  service  of  a  Prince  that  is  of 
a  divers  religion.     [Translated  from  the  Italian  by  W.  BJ\ 

J.  Bill :  London.    1625.    4to.    British  Museum. 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS   PROM   THE    ITALIAN.       75 

1626.     The  History  of  the  quarrels  of  Pope  Paul  V.  with  the 

State  of  Venice,  in  seven  Books.  .  .  '.    Faithfully  translated  out 

of  the  Italian,  [by  C.  P.  i.  e.  Christopher  Potter,  provost  of 

Queen's  College,  Oxford]  and  compared  with  the  French  Copie. 

J.  Bill :  London.    1626.    4to.    Pp.435. 

The  '  French  Copie '  is  the  Histoire  du  Concile  de  Trente. 
Traduite  de  Vltalien  de  Pierre  Soave  Polan.  Par  Jean  Diodate 
[Giovanni  Diodati].  Geneva.  1621.  Folio. 

A  Sermon  [on  John  XXI.  17~\  preached  at  the  consecration 
of .  .  .  .  Barnaby  Potter  ....  Bishop  of  Carlisle  [15  March, 
1688].  .  .  .  Hereunto  is  added  an  Advertisement  touching  the 
History  of  the  Quarrels  of  Pope  Paul  5  with  the  Venetian; 
penned  in  Italian  by  F.  Paul  and  done  into  English  by  the 
former  Author. 

J.Clarke:  London.  1629.   8vo.   Pp.127.  British  Museum. 

A  translation  of  Fra  Paolo's, — 

Istoria  particolare  delle  cose  passate  tra'l  Sommo  Pontifice 
Paolo  V  e  la  Serenissima  Republica  di  Venetia  gli'  anni 
M.DCV,  M.DCV1,  M.DCVII.  [Lione  [Venice?']]  1624.  4to. 
British  Museum. 

At  the  accession  of  Pope  Paul  V.,  Venice  offered  the  single 
instance  in  Italy  of  a  national  church.  The  republic  collected 
the  tithes  and  the  clergy  acknowledged  no  chief  above  their 
own  patriarch.  But  the  policy  of  the  papacy,  although  vary- 
ing under  different  popes,  was  in  general  one  of  encroachment 
on  the  civil  authority,  and  the  opulent  state  of  Venice  proved 
a  shining  mark.  The  Venetians  objected  strenuously  to  this 
encroachment,  especially  in  its  affect  upon  the  revenues  of 
the  republic.  The  Roman  court,  claiming  superior  authority, 
exempted  so  many  ecclesiastics  and  ecclesiastical  benefices 
from  taxation,  that,  at  a  time  when  it  was  computed  that  the 
property  of  the  Venetian  clergy  was  worth  eleven  million 
ducats,  the  tithes  did  not  actually  yield  more  than  twelve 
thousand  ducats.  Again,  the  regulations  of  the  curia  had 
practically  ruined  the  Venetian  press ;  no  books  could  be 


76  MAEY   AUGUSTA   SCOTT. 

published,  except  such  as  were  approved  in  Rome,  and,  in 
many  instances,  except  such  as  were  printed  in  Rome. 

A  growing  ill-feeling  between  the  republic  and  the  papacy 
came  to  open  breach  immediately  after  the  election  of  Pope 
Paul  V.  It  was  caused  by  the  claim  of  the  Venetians  to 
try  ecclesiastical  culprits  before  the  civil  authorities,  and  by 
the  renewal  of  two  old  laws,  the  one  forbidding  the  alienation 
of  real  property  in  favor  of  the  clergy,  the  other  making  the 
consent  of  the  government  necessary  to  the  building  of  new 
churches  and  to  the  founding  of  new  monastic  orders.  Paul 
V.  demanded  the  surrender  of  two  priests,  the  Abbot  of 
Nervesa  and  a  canon  of  Vicenza,  held  for  civil  crimes,  and 
the  repeal  of  the  two  laws,  and  when  the  Venetians  refused 
to  yield,  he  placed  the  whole  Venetian  territory  under  inter- 
dict, April  17,  1606. 

Upon  this,  the  Council  of  Ten,  issued  two  proclamations, 
May  6 ;  one,  addressed  to  the  citizens,  set  forth  the  aggres- 
sions of  the  Pope  and  called  upon  them  for  aid  in  resisting 
his  demands ;  the  other  forbade  the  Venetian  clergy  to  pay 
any  attention  to  the  papal  bull,  and  banished  those  who  dis- 
obeyed. A  vehement  literary  controversy  arose,  conducted 
for  the  pope  by  the  famous  Jesuit,  Cardinal  Bellarmino, 
and  for  the  Venetians  by  Fra  Paolo  of  the  order  of  the 
Servites.  Paul  V.  even  meditated  war  on  Venice  and  applied 
for  aid  to  France  and  Spain.  Both  of  these  states,  however, 
wished  to  keep  the  peace,  and  through  the  mediation  of 
Cardinal  Joyeuse,  a  compromise  was  affected.  The  Venetians 
made  some  nominal  concessions,  whose  solemn  details  read 
almost  like  burlesque. 

As  to  the  two  offending  priests,  Ranke  relates, — "  The 
secretary  of  the  Venetian  Senate  conducted  the  prisoners  to 
the  palace  of  the  French  ambassador,  fand  delivered  them 
into  his  hands,  out  of  respect/  he  said, '  for  the  most  Christian 
king,  and  with  the  previous  understanding  that  the  right  of 
the  republic  to  judge  her  own  clergy  should  not  thereby  be 
diminished/  'So  I  receive  them/  replied  the  ambassador, 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS   FROM   THE    ITALIAN.       77 

and  led  them  before  the  cardinal,  who  was  walking  up  and 
down  in  a  gallery  (loggia).  '  These  are  the  prisoners/  said 
he,  'who  are  to  be  given  up  to  the  pope;'  but  he  did  not 
allude  to  the  reservation.  Then  the  cardinal,  without  utter- 
ing one  word,  delivered  them  to  the  papal  commissary,  who 
received  them  with  the  sign  of  the  cross." 

The  French  found  the  demand  for  the  repeal  of  the  two 
laws  harder  to  deal  with.  At  first,  January,  1607,  the  Senate 
positively  refused  to  suspend  the  laws;  later,  in  March,  1607, 
without  any  formal  or  express  repeal,  a  decision  was  reached 
that  "  the  republic  would  conduct  itself  with  its  accustomed 
piety." 

Paul  V.  found  it  wise  to  accept  these  terms,  and  withdrew 
his  censures.  The  main  result  of  the  quarrel  was  to  demon- 
strate the  weakness  of  the  spiritual  weapon  upon  which  the 
Roman  curia  had  so  long  relied,  and  to  reveal  the  disrepute 
into  which  papal  pretensions  had  fallen  even  among  Catholic 
nations.  This  is  strikingly  shown  by  the  fate  of  the  Jesuits 
in  the  struggle.  When  the  Venetians  put  it  sharply  to  their 
clergy  that  they  must  either  obey  the  republic  or  leave  its 
dominions,  the  Jesuits  chose  the  side  of  the  Pope  and  with- 
drew into  his  territory.  The  Venetians  then  by  a  solemn 
decree,  June  14,  1606,  excluded  the  order  from  the  republic, 
nor  would  they  upon  any  terms,  or  for  anybody,  reconsider 
this  decision.  The  Jesuits  remained  permanently  banished 
from  the  state.  How  "  resolved  and  careless  "  the  Venetians 
came  out  of  the  struggle  is  related  by  Izaak  Walton,  in  his 
Life  of  /Sir  Henry  Wotton.  He  says,  "  they  made  an  order, 
that  in  that  day  in  which  they  were  absolved,  there  should 
be  no  public  rejoicing,  nor  any  bonfires  that  night,  lest  the 
common  people  might  judge,  that  they  desired  an  absolution, 
or  were  absolved  for  committing  a  fault." 

Ranke,  History  of  the  Popes,  Book  VI,  Section  12,  pp. 
110-130,  of  E.  Foster's  translation,  London,  Bohn,  1856. 
Biografia  di  Fra  Paolo  Sarpi.  Par  A.  Bianchi-Giovini,  Zurich, 


78  MARY    AUGUSTA    SCOTT. 

1836/*  Westminster  Review,Vo\.  xxxi,  p.  146,  1838.     Life 
of  Sir  Henry  Wotton.    Walton's  Lives.    Ed.  A.  H,  Bullen. 

1626.  The  Seaven  Trumpets  of  Brother  B.  Saluthius  of  the 
holie  Order  of  S.  Francis  ....  exciting  a  sinner  to  repentance. 
.  .  .    Translated  out  of  the  Latin  into  the  English  tongue,  by 
Br.  G.  P.  of  the  same  order,  etc. 

For  J.  Heigham,  S.  Oraers  :  1626.   12rao.  British  Museum. 

The  "Epistle  Dedicatorie"  is  signed  "  G.  P." 

Translated  from  Bartolommeo  Carabi ;  the  British  Museum's 
copy  of  the  original  is  dated  1804, — 

Delle  Sette  Trombe,  opera  utilissima  per  risvegliare  i  pecca- 
tori  a  penitenza.  ...  In  questa  nuova  impressione  corretta,  etc. 

Napoli.    1804.    12mo. 

1627.  The  Life  of  B.  Aloysius  Gonzaga.  .  .  .     Written  in 
Latin  by  the  R.  Fa\ther~\  V.  [irgilio]  Ceparius.   .   .  .    And 
translated  into  English  by  R.  S. 

Paris.    1627.    8vo.    British  Museum. 

From  Virgilio  Cepari, — 

De  vita  beati  Aloysii  Gonzagae  ....  libri  ires,  etc.  Coloniae 
Agrippinae.  1608.  8vo.  British  Museum,  (2  copies). 

An  Italian  version  of  earlier  date  is  dedicated  to  Pope 
Paul  V  - 

Vita  del  beato  Luigi  Gonzaga  della  Compagnia  di  Giesu, 
....  scritta  dal  P.  V.  Cepari,  .  .  .  .  et  dal  Marchese  Francesco 
dedicata  alia  santita  di  N.  S.  Papa  Paolo  Quinto.  (Medita- 
tione  de  gl'  Angeli  santi  ....  composta  dal  beato  L.  Gonzaga.) 

Roma.    1606.    4to.    British  Museum. 

Luigi  di  Gonzaga,  Saint  Aloysius,  1568-1591,  was  the 
son  of  Ferdinand  di  Gonzaga,  Marquis  of  Castiglione.  He 
renounced  his  rights  in  the  marquisate  to  his  brother,  in 
1585,  and  entered  the  Society  of  Jesus.  Six  years  later  he 
died  of  a  fever  contracted  in  nursing  the  sick  during  an 
epidemic.  He  was  beatified  by  Pope  Gregory  XV.,  in  1621, 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS   FROM   THE   ITALIAN.        79 

and  canonized  by  Pope  Benedict  XIII.,  in  1726.     Father 
Virgilio  Cepari  was  a  fellow  Jesuit  who  knew  him  personally. 

1628.  A  discourse  upon  the  Reasons  of  the  Resolution  taken 
m  the  Vaiteline  against  the  tyranny  of  the  Orisons  and  Here- 
tiques.  To  the  .  .  .  .  King  of  Spaine,  D.  Phillip  the  Third. 
Written  in  Italian  by  the  author  of  The  Councett  of  Trent 
[Paolo  Servita,  i.  e.  Pietro  Sarpi]  and  faithfully  translated 
into  English  [by  Philo-Britannicos,  i.  e.  Sir  Thomas  Roe]. 
With  the  translators  Epistle  to  the  Commons  House  of  Parlia- 
ment. [  With  the  text  of  the  Reasons.~\ 

London.  Printed  for  W.  Lee.  1628.  8vo.  Pp.  101. 
British  Museum,  (2  copies).  Also,  1650,  with  a  new  title, — 

The  cruell  Subtility  of  Ambition  discovered  in  a  discourse  con- 
cerning the  King  of  Spaines  surprizing  the  Vaiteline.  Written 
in  Italian  by  the  author  of  the  Historie  of  the  Councell  of  Treat 
[Paolo  Servita,  i.  e.  P.  Sarpi,  in  answer  to  "The  Reasons  of 
the  Resolution  lately  taken  in  the  Vaiteline  against  the  tyrannie 
of  the  Orisons  and  the  Heretiques.))']  Translated  by  Sir  T. 
Roe,  etc. 

W.  Lee :  London.    1650.    4to.    British  Museum. 

A  translation  of, 

Discorso  sopra  le  ragioni  delta  risolutione  fatta  in  Val  Telina 
contra  la  tirannide  de'  Grisoni,  &  Heretici,  etc.  [In  the  form 
of  a  letter  addressed  to  Philip  III.,  King  of  Spain.  With  the 
text  of  the  Ragioni. 

[Venice?    1624?]    4to.    Pp.  48.    Brit.  Mus.,  (2  copies). 

The  authorship  of  the  Discorso,  which  was  published  anony- 
mously, appears  to  be  exceedingly  doubtful. 

The  Valtellina,  or  Valtelline,  is  the  valley  of  the  upper 
Adda  in  the  extreme  north  of  Italy,  province  of  Sondrio ;  it 
it  sixty-eight  miles  long,  from  the  Serra  di  Morignone  (sepa- 
rating it  from  the  district  of  Bormio)  to  the  lake  of  Como. 
It  belonged  during  the  middle  age  to  Lombardy  and  to 
Milan,  and  came  under  the  rule  of  the  Grisons  (the  largest 
and  easternmost  canton  of  Switzerland)  in  1512. 


80  MARY   AUGUSTA   SCOTT. 

Strategically,  it  is  a  very  important  pass  connecting  Lom- 
bardy  with  the  Tyrol,  and  for  this  reason  there  were  repeated 
struggles  for  its  possession  during  the  Thirty  Years'  War, 
between  Austria  (the  Hapsburgs)  and  Spain,  on  the  one  side, 
and  France  (Richelieu),  Venice,  and  the  Orisons,  on  the  other. 
In  1620,  the  Spanish  and  Roman  Catholic  faction,  headed  by 
the  Planta  family,  massacred  a  great  number  of  Protestants 
in  the  valley  (the  "  free  community"  of  Poschiavo  had  become 
Protestant  at  the  time  of  the  Reformation).  For  the  next 
twenty  years  the  Valtelline  was  held  by  different  conquerors, 
by  the  Spaniards  (1620,  1621-23,  1629-31,  1637-39);  by  the 
French  (1624-26,  1635-37),  who  by  the  treaty  of  Mon9on 
restored  the  pass  to  the  canton  of  the  Grisons ;  and  by  the 
Pope  (1623,  1627). 

In  1639,  the  Valtelline  was  finally  given  back  to  the  Grisons, 
on  condition  that  it  should  be  Roman  Catholic  territory. 

1632.  Fuga  Saeculi:  or  the  Holy  Hatred  of  the  World. 
Conteyning  the  Lives  of  17.  Holy  Confessours  of  Christ,  selected 
out  of  sundry  Authors.  Written  in  Italian :  .  .  .  and  translated 
into  English  by  H.  \_enry~\  H.  \awkini\. 

Printed  at  Paris.     1632.     4to.     British  Museum. 

From  the  Italian  of  the  Jesuit  father,  Giovanni  Pietro 
Maffei,  Vite  di  diciasette  Confessori  di  Oristo  scelte  da  diversi 
autori  e  nel  volgare  Italiano  ridotte  dal  P.  G.  P.  M.  British 
Museum,  ed.  Bergamo.  1746.  4to. 

Among  the  lives  are  those  of  St.  Edward  the  Confessor ; 
St.  Anselm,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury ;  and  St.  Hugh,  Bishop 
of  Lincoln. 

Henry  Hawkins,  who  was  himself  a  Jesuit,  was  a  brother 
of  Sir  Thomas  Hawkins,  translator  of  Pierre  Matthieu's  Aelius 
Sejanus  Histoire  Romaine,  as  Unhappy  Prosperitie.  1632. 

See  Part  I.  Romances  in  Prose. 

1632.  The  Admirable  Life  of  S.  Francis  Xavier.  Devided 
into  VI.  Bookes.  Written  in  Latin  by  Fa.  H.  Tursellinus 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS    FROM   THE   ITALIAN.       81 

[Orazio  Torsellino].  .  .  .  And  translated  into  English  by 
Thomas  F.  \itzherbertf]. 

Paris.    1632.    4to.    British  Museum. 

Translated  from  Orazio  Torsellino's  De  vita  Fr.  Xaverii. 
Rome.  1594.  8vo. 

1638.  The  Hundred  and  Ten  Considerations  of  Signior  T. 
Valdesso :  treating  of  those  things  which  are  most  profitable, 
most  necessary,  and  most  perfect  in  our  Christian  profession. 
Written  in  Spanish  [by  Juan  de  Vald£z]  ....  and  now  trans- 
lated out  of  the  Italian  copy  into  English  [by  Nicholas  Ferrar~\, 
with  notes  [by  George  Herbert].  Whereunto  is  added  an  epistle 
of  the  authors,  or  a  preface  to  his  divine  commentary  upon  the 
Romans. 

Oxford.    1638.    8vo.    British  Museum. 

An  Italian  edition  of  this  work  was  edited  by  C.  S.  Curio, 

Le  cento  &  died  divine  considerationi  del  S.  G.  Valdesso: 
nelle  quali  si  ragiona  delle  cose  piu  utili  piu  necessarie  e  piu 
perfette  delta  Christiana  professione. 

Basilea.    1550.    8vo.    British  Museum. 

"  With  Ferrar's  translation  of  Valdezzo's  Hundred  and  Ten 
Considerations  were  published  a  letter  from  Herbert  to  Ferrar 
on  his  work,  and  '  Briefe  Notes  [by  Herbert]  relating  to  the 
dubious  and  offensive  places  in  the  following  considerations/ 
The  licenser  of  the  press  in  his  imprimatur  calls  especial 
attention  to  Herbert's  notes.  In  the  1646  edition  of  Ferrar's 
Valdezzo  Herbert's  notes  are  much  altered."  Dictionary  of 
National  Biography  (under  '  George  Herbert '). 

The  Hundred  and  Ten  Considerations  is  a  work  of  ascetic  piety. 

1644.  St.  Paul's  Late  Progres  upon  Earth,  About  a  Divorce 
twixt  Christ  and  the  Church  of  Rome,  by  reason  of  her  disso- 
luteness and  excesses.  Recommended  to  all  tender-conscienced 
Christians.  A  fresh  Fancy  full  of  various  strains  and  suitable 
to  the  Times.  Rendered  out  of  Italian  into  English  [by  James 
Ho  well].  Published  by  Authority. 
6 


82  MARY   AUGUSTA   SCOTT. 

London.  Printed  by  Richard  Heron  for  Matthew  Wal- 
banck  neare  Grayes  Inne  Gate.  1644.  8vo.  Pp.  xviii  + 
148  -j-  iv.  British  Museum,  (2  copies). 

With  two  prefatory  letters,  the  one  To  Sir  Paul  Pindar, 
Kt.,  upon  the  Version  of  an  Italian  Piece  into  English,  call'd 
St.  Paul's  Progress  upon  Earth;  a  new  and  a  notable  kind  of 
Satire,  dated,  Fleet,  25  Martii  164.6;  the  other  To  Sir  Paul 
Neale,  Kt.,  upon  the  same  Subject,  dated,  Fleet,  25  Martii. 

Howell  writes  to  Sir  Paul  Pindar, — "  Sir,  among  those 
that  truly  honour  you,  I  am  one,  and  have  been  so  since  I 
first  knew  you ;  therefore  as  a  small  testimony  hereof,  I  send 
you  this  fresh  Fancy  composed  by  a  noble  Personage  in  Italian, 
of  which  Language  you  are  so  great  a  Master. 

"  For  the  first  part  of  the  Discourse,  which  consists  of  a 
Dialogue  'twixt  the  two  first  Persons  of  the  Holy  Trinity, 
there  are  examples  of  that  kind  in  some  of  the  most  ancient 
Fathers,  as  Apollinarius  and  Nazianzen ;  and  lately  Grotius 
hath  the  like  in  his  Tragedy  of  Christ's  Passion :  Which  may 
serve  to  free  it  from  all  exceptions." 

To  Sir  Paul  Neale  he  says, — "  If  you  please  to  observe  the 
manner  of  his  [St.  Paul's]  late  progress  upon  earth,  which 
you  may  do  by  the  guidance  of  this  discourse,  you  shall  dis- 
cover many  things  which  are  not  vulgar,  by  a  curious  mixture 
of  Church  and  State- Affairs :  You  shall  feel  herein  the  pulse 
of  Italy,  and  how  it  beats  at  this  time  since  the  beginning  of 
these  late  Wars  'twixt  the  Pope  and  the  Duke  of  Parma,  with 
the  grounds,  procedure,  and  success  of  the  said  War;  together 
with  the  Interest  and  Grievances,  the  Pretences  and  Quarrels 
that  most  Princes  there  have  with  Rome." 

The  translation  was  made  during  HowelFs  imprisonment 
in  the  Fleet  by  the  Long  Parliament,  a  fact  which  is  alluded 
to  near  the  close  of  this  letter, — "  Touching  this  present  Ver- 
sion of  Italian  into  English,  I  may  say,  'tis  a  thing  I  did  when 
I  had  nothing  to  do :  'Twas  to  find  something  whereby  to  pass 
away  the  slow  hours  of  this  sad  condition  of  Captivity." 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS    FROM   THE   ITALIAN.       83 

1651.  The  Life  of  the  most  Learned  Father  Paul  of  the 
Order  of  the  Servie.  Councellour  of  State  to  the  most  Serene 
Republicke  of  Venice,  and  Author  of  the  History  of  the  Counsell 
of  Trent.  Translated  out  of  Italian  by  a  Person  of  Quality. 

London.     1651.    8vo.    British  Museum. 

A  translation  of  Fra  Fulgenzio  Micanzio's  Vita  del  Padre 
Paolo  dell'  Or  dine  de'  Servi.  Leyden.  1646.  12mo.  British 
Museum. 

Pietro  Sarpi  was  born  August  14,  1552,  and  died  January 
15,  1623 ;  his  father  was  Francesco  Sarpi,  a  native  of  Friuli, 
but  established  in  trade  in  Venice,  and  his  mother  was  Isabella 
Morelli,  a  Venetian.  At  the  age  of  thirteen,  November  24, 
1565,  he  entered  the  order  of  the  Servites,  assuming  the  name 
Paolo  by  which  he  is  known  in  history.  Fra  Paolo  studied 
at  Venice,  Mantua,  and  Milan,  and  his  fame  as  a  scholar  grew 
so  great  that  his  convent  assigned  him  an  annual  sum  for  the 
purchase  of  books.  He  took  his  doctor's  degree  at  the  Uni- 
versity of  Padua,  in  1578,  was  elected  Provincial  of  his  order 
in  1579,  and  Procurator,  in  1585,  an  office  which  required 
him  to  live  in  Kome,  where  he  began  to  be  singled  out  as 
a  distinguished  man  in  a  distinguished  circle.  Fra  Paolo 
enjoyed  the  friendship  of  the  most  eminent  men  of  his  day, 
of  Galileo  and  Fabrizi,  both  professors  in  the  University  of 
Padua,  of  Casaubon  and  Claude  Peiresc,  of  William  Gilbert 
and  Bishop  Bedell  and  Sir  Henry  Wotton. 

But  having  incurred  the  enmity  of  the  Jesuits  by  a  treatise 
on  Grace  and  Free  Will,  and  of  the  Vatican  by  several 
memorials  he  had  prepared  on  political  subjects  for  the  Vene- 
tian Senate,  he  was  twice  refused  a  bishopric  by  Pope  Clement 
VIII.  The  memorials,  however,  made  known  his  political 
ability,  and  on  January  28,  1606,  the  Venetian  Senate  chose 
him  to  be  theologian  and  canonist  to  the  republic;  he  held 
this  post  for  the  remainder  of  his  life. 

Fra  Paolo's  mental  range  was  of  that  encyclopaedic  charac- 
ter so  common  among  the  great  Italians  of  the  Renaissance, 
intelligentia  per  cuncta  permeans.  He  studied  Greek,  Hebrew, 


84  MARY   AUGUSTA   SCOTT. 

and  Chaldee,  went  through  the  entire  circle  of  the  physical  and 
mathematical  sciences,  extended  his  researches  to  anatomy  and 
medicine,  and  accumulated  a  vast  store  of  historical  knowledge 
which  was  afterwards  of  the  greatest  service  to  him.  The 
traces  of  his  researches  are  everywhere.  Foscarini  quotes 
from  a  small  treatise  on  metaphysics,  showing  that  Fra  Paolo 
had  developed  a  theory  of  the  origin  of  ideas  that  is  not  unlike 
that  of  Locke  in  the  Essay  concerning  the  Human  Understand- 
ing. Giovanni  Battista  della  Porta,  the  author  of  a  book  on 
natural  magic,  De  Magia  Naturali,  refers  to  Fra  Paolo's 
knowledge  of  magnetic  phenomena  in  words  of  extravagant 
admiration.  In  optics,  Fabrizi,  the  greatest  anatomist  of 
the  time,  acknowledges  his  indebtedness  to  Fra  Paolo.  Sir 
Henry  Wotton,  English  ambassador  to  the  republic  of  Venice, 
bears  witness  to  his  studies  in  botany  and  mineralogy.  Withal, 
says  Wotton,  "He  was  one  of  the  humblest  things  that  could 
be  seen  within  the  bounds  of  humanity,  the  very  pattern  of 
that  precept,  '  Quanta  doctior,  tanto  submissior.'"  Sir  Henry 
Wotton's  chaplain,  William  Bedell,  writing  to  Dr.  Samuel 
Warde,  "St.  Stephen's  Day,"  1607,  refers  to  the  attempt  to 
assassinate  Fra  Paolo  in  these  words, — "  I  hope  this  accident 
will  awake  him  a  little  more,  and  put  more  spirit  in  him, 
which  is  his  only  want."  Galileo  called  him  his  "  father  and 
master,"  and  declared  that  no  one  in  Europe  surpassed  him 
in  mathematical  knowledge. 

In  literature,  Fra  Paolo  is  chiefly  known  by  his  three 
histories,  all  of  which  were  translated  into  English  : — The 
History  of  the  Council  of  Trent,  in  1620 ;  The  History  of  the 
Quarrels  of  Pope  Paul  V  with  the  State  of  Venice,  in  1626; 
and  The  History  of  the  Inquisition,  in  1639.  These  histories 
made  Father  Paul  extremely  popular  in  England,  where  he 
seems  to  have  been  accepted  as  at  least  a  good  hater  of  the 
pope.  He  was  not,  however,  a  protestant ;  he  was  simply  a 
great  statesman.  Gibbon,  referring  to  his  histories,  calls  him 
the  '  worthy  successor  of  Guicciardini  and  Machiavelli.'  He 
was  Machiavelli's  successor  politically. 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS   FROM   THE   ITALIAN.       85 

One  of  the  most  interesting  facts  about  Fra  Paolo  is  his 
relation  to  the  discovery  of  the  circulation  of  the  blood.  He 
himself  speaks  of  the  discovery  in  this  way, — 

"As  to  your  exhortations,  I  must  tell  you  that  I  am  no 
longer  in  a  position  to  be  able,  as  heretofore,  to  relieve  my 
hours  of  silence  by  making  anatomical  observations  on  lambs, 
kids,  calves,  or  other  animals;  if  I  were,  I  should  be  now 
more  than  ever  desirous  of  repeating  some  of  them,  on  account 
of  the  noble  present  you  have  made  me  of  the  great  and  truly 
useful  work  of  the  illustrious  Vesale.  There  is  really  a  great 
analogy  between  the  things  already  remarked  and  noted  down 
by  me  (avvertite  e  registrate)  respecting  the  motion  of  the  blood 
in  the  animal  body,  and  the  structure  and  use  of  the  valves, 
and  what  I  have,  with  pleasure,  found  indicated,  though  with 
less  clearness,  in  Book  vii,  Chapter  9,  of  this  work." 

See  fragment  of  a  letter  preserved  by  Francesco  Grisellini, 
in  his  Del  Genio  di  Fra  Paolo  in  ogni  facolta  sdentifica  e  nelle 
dottrine  ortodosse  tendenti  alia  difesa  dell'  originario  diretto  de' 
Sovrani.  Venice.  1 785.  8vo.  (Revised  edition.) 

Fra  Paolo's  life  was  written  by  his  secretary  and  successor 
in  the  office  of  theologian  to  the  republic,  Fra  Fulgenzio 
Micanzio.  Upon  this  point  Fra  Fulgenzio  says, — 

"  There  are  many  eminent  and  learned  physicians  still  liv- 
ing, who  know  that  it  was  not  Fabricius  of  Aquapendente 
but  Fra  Paolo  Sarpi  who,  considering  the  weight  of  the 
blood,  came  to  the  conclusion  that  it  would  not  continue 
stationary  in  the  veins  without  there  being  some  barrier  ade- 
quate to  retain  it,  and  which  by  opening  and  shutting  should 
afford  the  motion  necessary  to  life.  Under  this  opinion  he 
dissected  with  ever  greater  care  and  found  the  valves.  Of 
these  he  gave  an  account  to  his  friends  in  the  medical  profes- 
sion, particularly  to  FAquapendente,  who  acknowledged  it  in 
his  public  lectures,  and  it  was  afterwards  admitted  in  the 
writings  of  many  illustrious  men." 

Fabrizi  d'Aqnapendente  was  professor  of  anatomy  and 
surgery  in  the  University  of  Padua,  where  William  Harvey 


86  MARY   AUGUSTA   SCOTT. 

took  his  degree  as  doctor  of  physic,  in  1602,  after  a  four 
years'  course.  Of  Harvey's  connection  with  the  original 
discovery,  Pietro  Gassendi,  in  his  life  of  Pieresc,  gives  this 
account, — 

"  William  Harvey,  an  English  physician,  had  lately  (1628) 
published  an  excellent  book  on  the  course  of  the  blood  in  the 
body;  and  among  other  arguments  in  favour  of  his  views 
had  appealed  to  the  valves  of  the  veins  of  which  he  had  heard 
something  from  d'Aquapendente,  but  of  which  the  real  dis- 
coverer was  Sarpi  the  Servite.  On  this  he,  Peiresc,  desired 
to  be  furnished  with  the  book,  and  to  have  an  opportunity  of 
examining  the  valves  of  the  veins,  the  pores  of  the  septum, 
denied  by  Harvey,  and  various  other  matters  of  which  I 
myself  will  satisfy  him." 

Vita  viri  illustri  Claudii  de  Peiresc.    Paris.    1641.    4to. 

It  would  seem  from  this  contemporary  testimony  that  the 
original  idea  of  the  circulation  of  the  blood  was  one  of  Sarpi's 
sublime  glimpses  into  things,  and  that  what  Harvey  did  was 
to  make  the  discovery  available  to  science  by  tracing  it  to  its 
consequences. 

Biografia  di  Fra  Paolo  Sarpi.  Par  A.  Bianchi-Giovini. 
2  vols.  Zurich,  1836.  Westminster  Review,  Vol.  xxxi,  p. 
146,  1838.  William  Harvey.  A  History  of  the  Discovery 
of  the  Circulation  of  the  Blood.  Robert  Willis.  London. 
1878.  Pp.  107-8. 

For  a  curious  and  interesting  story  regarding  the  remains 
of  Fra  Paolo,  see  Count  Ugo  Balzani,  in  the  Rendiconti  della 
R.  Accademia  dei  Lincei,  noticed  in  The  Nation,^ "ol.  62,  No. 
1605,  April  2,  1896. 

1657.  A  Dialogue  of  Polygamy,  written  originally  in  Italian : 
rendered  into  English  by  a  Person  of  Quality,  etc.  (A  Dialogue 
of  Divorce,  etc.)  2  pis. 

London.    1657.    12mo.    British  Museum. 

These  two  dialogues,  with  others,  were  published  in  Latin, 
in  1563,— 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS    FROM   THE    ITALIAN.       87 

Bernardini  Ochini  Dialogi  XXX.  in  duos  libros  divisi}  quo- 
rum primus  est  de  Messia  [continet  dialogos  xviij.']. .  .  Secundus 
est  cum  aliis  de  rebus  variis,  turn  potissimum  de  Trinitate. 

Basileae.  Per  Petrum  Pernam.  1563.  8vo.  2  vols.  British 
Museum,  (2  copies). 

The  two  dialogues  on  marriage  of  this  collection  stirred  up 
the  most  bitter  hostility  against  Ochino.  Dialogue  twenty- 
one  advocated  bigamy  at  least,  and,  if  its  reasoning  is  sound, 
there  would  seem  to  be  no  moral  bound  to  the  number  of  a 
man's  wives,  except  his  inclination  and  means.  A  French 
writer  states  Ochino's  reasoning  very  naively, — 

"  Un  homme  marie"  qui  a  une  femme  sterile,  infirme  et 
d'humeur  incompatible,  doit  d'abord  demander  a  Dieu  la 
continence.  Si  ce  don,  demande  avec  foi,  ne  peut  s'obtenir, 
il  peut  suivre  sans  pe"che"  Pinstinct  qu'il  connaitra  certaine- 
ment  venir  de  Dieu,  et  prendre  une  seconde  femme  sans 
rompre  avec  la  premiere." 

This  was  astonishing  doctrine  to  be  put  forth  by  the  most 
popular  preacher  of  the  time,  and  the  stout  Swiss  burghers 
would  none  of  it.  They  promptly  expelled  Ochino  from 
Switzerland.  Theodore  de  Beze,  who  had  been  his  friend, 
replied  to  the  two  dialogues  in  a  formal  tract, — 

Tractatio  de  Polygamia  et  Divortiis,  in  qud  et  Ochini  pro 
polygamia,  et  Montanislorum  ac  aliorum  adversus  repetitas  nup- 
tias,  refutantur;  et  pleraeque  in  causis  matrimonialibus}  quas 
vocant,  incidentes  controversiae  ex  verbo  Dei  deciduntur.  Ex 
T.  Bezae  praelectionibus  in  priorem  ad  Corinthios  Epistolam. 

Geneva.    1568.    8vo.    British  Museum. 

For  a  brief  account  of  Bernardino  Ochino,  see  Five  Sermons. 
1547. 

1855.  [1548.  MS.]  The  Benefit  of  Christ's  Death:  proba- 
bly written  by  A.  Paleario :  reprinted  in  facsimile  from  the 
Italian  edition  of  154-3;  together  with  a  French  translation 
printed  in  1551.  ...  To  which  is  added  an  English  version 
made  in  154-8  by  E.  Courtenay,  Earl  of  Devonshire,  now  first 


88  MARY   AUGUSTA    SCOTT. 

edited  from  a  MS.  .  .  .  with  an  introduction  by  C.  Babington. 
Ital.  FT.  and  Eng. 

London,  Cambridge,  printed  1855.    8vo.    British  Museum. 

The  Benefit  of  Christ's  Death  is  a  translation  of  an  Italian 
work,  entitled  Trattato  utilissimo  del  Beneficio  di  Giesu  Christo, 
crocifisso,  verso  i  Christiani,  written  about  1543,  and  attributed 
to  Antonio  dalla  Paglia,  commonly  called  Aonio  Paleario.  It 
was  considered  to  be  an  apology  for  the  reformed  doctrines, 
and  was  proscribed  in  Italy.  Courtenay  translated  it  while 
imprisoned  in  the  Tower,  apparently  to  conciliate  Edward 
VI.,  his  second  cousin.  He  dedicated  it  to  Anne  Seymour, 
Duchess  of  Somerset. 

The  MS.  is  now  in  the  Library  of  Cambridge  University, 
to  which  it  was  presented  in  1840;  it  contains  two  autographs 
of  Edward  VI. 

There  is  also  a  later  Elizabethan  translation  of  this  work, 
attributed  to  Arthur  Golding.  1573.  The  Benefite  that  Chris- 
tians receyue  by  Jesus  Christ  crucify ed.  [By  A.  P.]  Translated 
....  into  English,  by  A.  O.  [olding?'] 

T.  East,  for  L.  Harison  and  G.  Bishop.  London.  1573. 
8vo.  British  Museum.  [1575?]  8vo.  Brit.  Mus.  1580.  8vo. 
Brit.  Mus. 

The  only  edition  of  the  Italian  work  that  I  find  in  the 
British  Museum  Catalogue  is,  Benefizio  delta  morte  di  Cristo  di 
Aonio  Paleario.  Pisa.  1849.  12mo. 

b.   SCIENCE  AND  THE  ARTS. 

1543.  The  most  excellent  workes  of  chirurgerye,  made  and 
set  forth  by  Maister  John  Vigon,  heed  Chirurgien  of  our  lyme 
in  Italie,  translated  into  English  [by  Bartholomew  Traheron]. 
Whereunto  is  added  an  exposition  of  straunge  termes  and 
unknowen  symples,  belongyng  to  the  arte. 

London,  E.  Whytchurcb,  1543.  Folio.  British  Museum. 
Also,  [London]  1550.  Folio.  British  Museum.  1571.  Folio. 


ELIZABETHAN   TKANSLATIONS   FROM   THE   ITALIAN.       89 

The  whole  worke  of  that  famous  chirurgion  .  .  .  .  J.  Vigo 
[Joannes  de  Vigo].  Newly  corrected,  by  men  skilfull  in  that 
Arte  [namely ,  George  Baker  and  Robert  Norton].  Whereunto 
are  annexed  certain  works  compiled  and  published  by  T.  Gale, 
etc.  (Certaine  Workes  of  Galens,  called  Methodus  medendi, 
with  '  a  brief e  declaration  of  the  .  .  .  .  art  of  Medicine,  the  office 
of  a  Chirurgion,'  and  an  epitome  of  the  third  booke  of  Galen, 
of  Naturall  faculties :  .  .  .  all  translated  by  T.  Gale.) 

London,  T.  East,  1586.  4to.  3  pts.  Black  letter.  British 
Museum. 

The  earliest  edition  of  Giovanni  da  Vigo  that  I  find  is, 
Practica  in  arte  chirurgica  copiosa  continens  novem  libros. 

[Rome,  per  Stephanum  Guillereti  et  Herculem  Bononiensem. 
.  .  .  1514]  Folio.  Index- Catalogue  of  the  Library  of  the 
Surgeon- General's  Office,  United  States  Army,  Vol.  xv,  1894. 

Giovanni  da  Vigo  was  physician  to  Pope  Julius  II. 

George  Baker,  1540-1600,  was  a  member  of  the  Barber 
Surgeons'  Company,  of  which  he  was  elected  master,  in  1597. 
Early  in  life  he  was  attached  to  the  household  of  the  Earl 
of  Oxford,  an  introduction,  which,  together  with  his  ability, 
enabled  him  to  build  up  a  considerable  practice  in  London. 
He  did  not  believe  in  close  translation,  for  in  the  preface 
of  The  Newe  Jewell  of  Health,  1576,  a  translation  of  Conrad 
Gesner's  Evonymus,  he  says,  "if  it  were  not  permitted  to 
translate  but  word  for  word,  then  I  say,  away  with  all  trans- 
lations/7 

Nor  did  he  approve  of  telling  too  much.  "As  for  the  names 
of  the  simples,  I  thought  it  good  to  write  them  in  Latin  as 
they  were,  for  by  the  searching  of  their  English  names  the 
reader  shall  very  much  profit ;  and  another  cause  is  that  I 
would  not  have  every  ignorant  asse  to  be  made  a  chirurgian 
by  my  book,  for  they  would  do  more  harm  with  it  than  good." 

1558.  The  Secretes  of  the  reverende  maister  Alexis  of  Pie- 
mount.  Containyng  excellente  remedies  against  divers  diseases, 
woundes,  and  other  accidentes,  with  the  maner  to  make  dystilla- 


90  MARY   AUGUSTA    SCOTT. 

tions,  parfumes.  .  .  .    Translated  out  of  Frenche  into  Englishe, 
by  Wyllyam  Warde. 

J.  Kingstone,  for  N.  Inglande,  London,  1558.  4to.  Black 
letter.  (Pt.  I  only.)  British  Museum.  Also,  London,  1562- 
60-62.  4to.  Black  letter.  (Parts  I,  II,  and  III.)  British 
Museum. 

A  verye  excellent  and  profitable  Booke  conteining  sixe  hundred 
foure  score  and  odde  experienced  Medicines,  apperteyning  unto 
Phisick  and  Surgerie,  long  tyme  practysed  of  the  expert  .... 
May ster  Alexis,  which  he  termeth  the  fourth  andfinall  booke  of 
his  secretes,  and  which  in  hys  latter  dayes  hee  dyd  publishe.  .  .  . 
Translated  out  of  Italian  into  Englishe  by  Richard  Androse. 

Imprinted  at  London  by  Henry  Denham.  (Parts  III  and 
IV.)  1569.  4to.  Black  letter.  (Bound  with,  The  Secretes  of 
the  reverende  Maister  Alexis  of  Piemount.  ...  H.  Bynneman, 
for  J.  Wight,  London,  1 566-68.  4to.  Black  letter.)  British 
Museum.  Also,  London,  1580-78.  4to.  Black  letter.  J. 
Kyngston,  for  J.  Wight.  (The  fourth  ....  booke.  Part  3 
was  printed  by  T.  Dawson.)  Brit.  Mus. 

The  original  of  this  book  appeared,  in  a  second  edition, 
in  1557. 

De  secreti  del  reverendo  donno  A.  P.  prima  parte,  divisa  in 
sei  libri.  Seconda  editione. 

Venetia.    1557.    4to.    British  Museum. 

La  seconda  Parte  de  i  Secreti  di  diversi  excellentissimi 
Huomini,  nuovamente  raccolti,  e  .  .  .  .  stampati.  Milano. 
1558.  8vo.  British  Museum. 

The  French  version,  from  which  Ward  translated,  is, — 

Les  Secrets  de  Reverend  Signeur  Alexis  Piemontois.  Con- 
tenans  excellens  remedes  contre  plusieurs  maladies.  . .  .  Traduit 
d'ltalien  en  Francois.  [Pt.  I.] 

Anvers.    1557.    4to.   British  Museum.    [Printed  in  Italics.] 

The  Secretes  of  Alexis  of  Piemount  is  a  sort  of  pharmaco- 
poeia, or  dispensatory,  and  contains  not  only  medical  formulae, 
but  formulae  for  cosmetics,  perfumes,  and  soaps.  One  per- 
scription  was  warranted  to  make  old  women  young  again. 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS   FROM   THE   ITALIAN.       91 

Alessio  Piemontese  has  been  confounded  with  the  learned 
Girolamo  Ruscelli  (d.  1556,  aged  forty-five),  who  among  his 
numerous  works,  wrote  Segreti  nuovi.  Venice.  1557.  8vo. 

1560.  The  Arte  of  warre,  written  first  in  Italia  by  N.  Mac- 
chiavell,  and  set  forthe  in  Englishe  by  P.  [eter]  Whitehorne 
student  in  Graies  Inne:  .  .  .  with  an  addido  of  other  like 
Marcialle  feates  and  experimentes,  as  in  a  Table  in  the  ende 
of  the  Booke  male  appere.  ( Certain  waies  of  the  orderyng  of 
Souldiers  in  battelray,  etc.)  Anno  M.D.L.X. 

J.  Kingston  for  N.  Englande :  London,  1560-'62.  4to. 
Black  letter.  2  pts.  Title-page  elegantly  cut  on  wood  by 
W.  S.  British  Museum. 

The  Arte  of  Warre.  Newly  imprinted,  with  other  additions. 
(Certaine  way  es  for  the  ordering  of  souldiours  in  battelray  .... 
with  other  thinges  appertayning  to  the  warres.  Gathered  &  set 
foorth  by  P.  Whitehorne.) 

W.  Williamson  for  Jhon  Wight :  London,  1573-74.  4to. 
Black  letter.  2  pts.  British  Museum,  (2  copies). 

The  Arte  of  Warre.  Newly  imprinted,  with  other  additions. 
[London.]  1588.  4to.  Black  letter.  2  pts.  British  Museum. 

A  translation  of  Libro  dell'  arte  delta  guerra  di  Niccold 
Machiavegli,  etc.  [In  seven  books,  dedicated  to  Lorenzo 
Strozzi.] 

Firenze.    1521.    8vo.    British  Museum. 

The  Arte  of  Warre  is  dedicated  "  To  the  most  high  and 
excellent  Princes  Elizabeth,  by  the  grace  of  God  Queene  of 
England,  Fraunce,  and  Ireland,  defender  of  the  Faith,  and 
of  the  Church  of  England,  and  Ireland,  on  Earth  next  under 
God,  the  supreme  Governour." 

In  the  Dedication  Whitehorne  explains  how  he  came  to 
make  the  translation, — 

"  When  therefore,  about  ten  yeares  past,  in  the  Emperour's 
warre's  against  the  Mores  and  certain  Turkes,  being  in  Bar- 
barie :  at  the  siege  and  winning  of  Calibbia,  Monasterio,  and 
Affrica,  I  had  as  well  for  my  further  instruction  in  those 


92  MARY   AUGUSTA   SCOTT. 

affaires,  as  also  the  better  to  acquaint  mee  with  the  Italian 
tongue,  reduced  into  English,  the  book  called  The  arte  of 
Warre,  of  the  famous  and  excellent  Nicholas  Machiavel, 
which  in  times  past,  he  being  a  counsailour,  and  Secretairie 
of  the  noble  citie  of  Florence,  not  without  his  great  laud  and 
praise  did  write :  and  having  lately  againe,  somewhat  perused 
the  same,  the  which  in  such  continuall  broyles,  and  unquiet- 
nes,  was  by  me  translated,  I  determined  with  my  selfe,  by 
publishing  thereof,  to  bestow  as  great  a  gift  (since  greater  I 
was  not  able)  amongst  my  countrie  men,  not  expert  in  the 
Italian  tongue,  as  in  like  works  I  had  scene  before  mee, 
the  Frenchmen,  Dutchmen,  Spaniardes,  and  other  forreine 
nacions,  most  lovingly  to  have  bestowed  among  theirs." 

The  Art  of  War  is  written  in  the  form  of  a  dialogue. 
Machiavelli  supposes  that  Fabrizio  Colon  na,  a  powerful 
Roman  nobleman  in  the  service  of  the  King  of  Spain,  stops 
in  Florence  on  his  way  home  from  the  wars  in  Lombardy. 
There  he  is  invited  by  Cosmo  di  Rucellai  to  spend  a  day 
with  him  in  the  celebrated  Gardens  of  the  Rucellai  family. 
The  three  other  interlocutors,  friends  of  Cosmo,  are  Zanobi 
Buondelmonti,  Battista  dalla  Palla,  and  Luigi  Alamanni,  the 
Florentine  poet.  The  gentlemen  discuss  with  Fabrizio  the  art 
of  war,  comparing  the  Swiss  and  Spanish  troops,  then  con- 
sidered the  best  soldiers  in  Europe;  the  Swiss,  armed  with 
pikes,  and  fighting  like  the  ancients  in  regiments  of  six  or 
eight  thousand  foot  drawn  up  in  close  order  (the  Macedonian 
phalanx),  and  the  Spaniards,  armed  with  sword  and  buckler. 
Machiavelli,  in  the  character  of  Fabrizio,  preferred  the  Spanish 
soldier,  because  the  Swiss  footmen  could  only  cope  well  with 
horse,  while  the  Spanish  troops  knew  how  to  deal  with  both 
horse  and  foot.  He  ascribes  the  superiority  of  the  Swiss  to 
their  ancient  institutions  and  to  the  want  of  cavalry,  and  that 
of  the  Spaniards  to  necessity,  because  as  they  largely  carried 
on  their  wars  in  foreign  parts,  they  were  compelled  either  to 
conquer  or  to  die. 

As  to  the  horse  and  foot  of  an  army,  Machiavelli  advises 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS    FROM   THE   ITALIAN.       93 

that  cavalrymen  be  recruited  out  of  the  towns,  and  infantry 
out  of  the  country.  He  thinks  that  the  main  strength  of  an 
army  consists  in  the  infantry,  although  he  admits  that  cavalry- 
men were  highly  disciplined  in  his  time,  that  they  were,  if  not 
superior,  at  least  equal  to,  the  cavalry  of  the  ancients.  Cavalry 
cannot  march  on  all  roads,  they  are  slower  in  their  motions, 
and  they  cannot  rally  so  quickly  as  infantry  when  thrown  into 
confusion.  He  attaches  little  importance  to  the  invention  of 
gunpowder  which  indeed  was  largely  used  at  that  time  for 
charging  cannon ;  he  calls  attention  to  the  clumsiness  of  heavy 
artillery  in  battle,  and  says  that  small  cannon  and  musket- 
shot  do  more  execution  than  artillery. 

Machiavelli  has  the  strongest  admiration  for  the  Roman 
military  system.  "  It  is  vain,"  he  says,  "  to  think  of  ever 
retrieving  the  reputation  of  the  Italian  arms  by  any  other 
method  than  what  I  Lave  prescribed,  and  by  the  cooperation 
of  some  powerful  Princes  in  Italy :  for  then  the  ancient  dis- 
cipline might  be  introduced  again  amongst  raw  honest  men 
who  are  their  own  subjects;  but  it  never  can  amongst  a  parcel 
of  corrupted,  debauched  rascals  and  foreigners." 

"  Before  our  Italian  Princes  were  scourged  by  the  Ultra- 
montanes,  they  thought  it  sufficient  for  a  Prince  to  write  a 
handsome  letter,  or  return  a  civil  answer ;  to  excel  in  drollery 
or  repartee;  to  undermine  and  deceive;  to  set  themselves  off 
with  jewels  and  lace ;  to  eat  and  sleep  in  greater  magnificence 
and  luxury  than  their  neighbors ;  to  spend  their  time  in 
wanton  pleasures ;  to  keep  up  a  haughty  kind  of  State,  and 
grind  the  faces  of  their  subjects ;  to  indulge  themselves  in 
indolence  and  inactivity ;  to  dispose  of  their  military  honors 
and  preferments  to  pimps  and  parasites ;  to  neglect  and  de- 
spise merit  of  every  kind ;  to  browbeat  those  that  endeavored 
to  point  out  anything  that  was  salutary  or  praiseworthy ;  to 
have  their  words  and  sayings  looked  upon  as  oracles;  not 
foreseeing  (weak  and  infatuated  as  they  were)  that  by  such 
conduct  they  were  making  a  rod  for  their  own  backs,  and 
exposing  themselves  to  the  mercy  of  the  first  invader." 


94  MARY   AUGUSTA    SCOTT. 

Julius  Caesar,  Alexander,  and  other  great  princes,  fought 
at  the  head  of  their  own  armies,  marched  with  them  on  foot, 
and  carried  their  own  arms ;  and  if  any  of  them  ever  lost 
power,  he  lost  his  life  with  it,  and  died  with  reputation 
and  glory. 

I  add  a  few  ideas  and  maxims  to  show  the  quality  of  this 
celebrated  book. 

On  Pensions. — Pensioning  is  "a  very  corrupt  custom." 
"So  likewise  a  Prince,  if  he  would  act  wisely,  should  not 
allow  a  pension  or  stipend  to  any  one  in  time  of  peace,  except 
by  way  of  reward  for  some  signal  piece  of  service,  or  in  order 
to  avail  himself  of  some  able  man  in  time  of  peace  as  well  as 
war."— Book  I. 

On  Oratory. — "  It  is  necessary  that  a  General  should  be  an 
Orator  as  well  as  a  Soldier ;  for  if  he  does  not  know  how  to 
address  himself  to  the  whole  army,  he  will  sometimes  find  it 
no  easy  task  to  mould  it  to  his  purpose."  Alexander  is  cited 
as  an  example. — Book  IV. 

On  Religion. — u  Religion  likewise,  and  the  oath  which 
soldiers  took  when  they  were  enlisted,  very  much  contributed 
to  make  them  do  their  duty  in  former  times;"  he  instances 
Sulla  pretending  to  converse  with  an  image  from  the  temple 
of  Apollo,  and  Charles  VII.  and  Joan  of  Arc. — Book  IV. 

"  Few  men  are  brave  by  nature ;  but  good  discipline  and 
experience  make  many  so." — Book  VII. 

"  Good  order  and  discipline  in  an  army  are  more  to  be 
depended  upon  than  courage  alone." — Book  VII. 

"  Men,  arms,  money,  and  provisions,  are  the  sinews  of  war; 

but  of  these  four,  the  first  two  are  most  necessary :  for  men  and 

arms  will  always  find  money  and  provisions;  but  money  and 

provisions  cannot  always  raise  men  and  arms." — Book  VII. 

Conclusion. 

"  I  will  venture  to  affirm,  that  the  first  state  in  Italy  that 
shall  take  up  this  method,  and  pursue  it,  will  soon  become 
master  of  the  whole  Province,  and  succeed  as  Philip  of 
Macedon  did ;  who  having  learnt  from  Epaminondas  the 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS   FROM  THE    ITALIAN.       95 

Theban  the  right  method  of  forming  and  disciplining  an 
army,  grew  so  powerful,  whilst  the  other  States  of  Greece 
were  buried  in  indolence  and  luxury,  and  wholly  taken  up  in 
plays  and  banquets,  that  he  conquered  them  all  in  a  few 
years,  and  left  his  Son  such  a  foundation  to  build  upon,  that 
he  was  able  to  subdue  the  whole  world." — Book  VII. 

It  will  be  seen  that  the  Art  of  War  is  a  carefully  con- 
sidered treatise  on  the  military  arm  of  government.  Machia- 
velli  believed  that  the  feebleness  of  Italy  as  a  military  power 
was  due  to  the  system  of  mercenary  soldiers  which  was  first 
introduced  by  the  despots,  and  then  adopted  by  the  com- 
mercial republics,  and  favored  by  the  church.  The  only 
way  by  which  the  Italians  could  recover  their  freedom  was 
through  the  organization  of  a  national  militia,  and  the  par- 
ticular organization  he  had  in  mind  was  an  adaptation  of  the 
principles  of  Roman  tactics  to  modern  conditions. 

The  fine  peroration,  promising  the  crown  to  that  Italian 
state  which  should  arm  its  citizens  and  take  the  lead  in  the 
peninsula,  sounds  like  a  prophecy  of  Piedmont,  which  in  our 
own  time  has  brought  about  Italian  nationality  much  along 
the  lines  laid  down  by  Machiavelli. 

[1560?]  A  newe  booke,  containing  the  arte  of  ryding,  and 
breakinge  greate  Horses,  together  with  the  shapes  and  Figures 
of  many  and  divers  kyndes  of  By  ties,  etc.  [Translated  from  the 
Italian,  of  Federico  Grisone,  by  Thomas  Blundeville.~\ 

W.  Seres.  London.  [1560?]  8vo.  Black  letter.  British 
Museum. 

This  is  merely  a  separate,  and  earlier,  issue  of  the  second 
tract  in  Blundeville's  work,  entitled, 

The  fower  chief yst  offices  belonging  to  Horsemanshippe.  That 
is  to  saye,  the  office  of  the  Breeder,  of  the  Rider,  of  the  Keper, 
and  of  the  Ferrer.  In  the  firste  part  whereof  is  declared  the 
order  of  breding  of  horses.  In  the  seconde  howe  to  breake  them 
and  to  make  theym  horses  of  seruyce.  Conteyning  the  whole 
arte  of  Ridynge  lately  set  forth,  and  nowe  newly  corrected  and 


96  MARY   AUGUSTA   SCOTT. 

amended  of  manye  faultes  escaped  in  the  fyrste  printynge,  as 
well  touchyng  the  bittes  as  otherwise.  Thirdly ,  how  to  dyet  them. 
.  .  .  Fourthly,  to  what  diseases  they  be  subieote. 

No  date.  4to.  Black  letter.  Each  part  has  a  separate 
title  and  signatures.  Part  III,  'the  Order  of  Dietynge  of 
Horses/  is  dated  1565  on  the  title-page,  and  Part  IV  is  dated 
1566.  The  general  title-page  and  the  title-pages  of  the  first 
two  parts  bear  no  date.  Later  editions  were  published  in 
1580,  1597,  and  1609. 

The  original  work  by  Federico  Grisone  is, — 

Gli  ordini  di  cavalcare.    Napoli.    1550.    4to. 

Ordini  di  cavalcare,  et  modi  di  conoscere  le  nature  de1  cavalli, 
emendare  i  vitii  loro,  &  ammaestrargli  per  Fuso  della  guerra, 
&  commodity  degli  huomini.  Con  le  figure  di  diversi  sorti  di 
morsi,  secondo  le  bocche  &  maneggiamenti  de  cavalli. 

Pesaro.    1556.    4to.    Both  in  the  British  Museum. 

See  John  Astley's  The  Art  of  Riding.    1584. 

1562.  The  Castel  of  Memorie :  wherein  is  conteyned  the 
restoryng,  augmentyng,  and  conservyug  of  the  Memorye  and 
Remembraunce :  with  the  safest  remedies  and  best  preceptes 
thereunto  in  any  wise  apperteyning.  Made  by  Gulielmus  Gra- 
tarolus  Bergomatis,  Doctor  of  Aries  and  Phisike.  Englished 
by  Willy  am  Fulwod.  The  Contentes  whereof  appear  in  the  page 
next  folowinge.  Post  tenebras  lux. 

Printed  at  London  by  Rouland  Hall,  dwellynge  in  Gutter- 
Lane  at  the  signe  of  the  Half  Egle  and  the  Keye.  1562. 
12ino.  (Censura  Lileraria,  vn.)  1563.  8vo.  Black  letter. 
British  Museum.  [1573.]  8vo.  (16ino.  Lowndes.)  Black 
letter.  British  Museum,  (2  copies). 

The  Dedication,  in  verse,  to  "the  Lord  Robert  Dudely," 
states  that  the  king  of  Bohemia  had  approved  the  book  in  its 
Latin  form,  and  the  late  King  Edward  VI.,  in  a  French 
translation. 

It  is  a  translation  from  the  Latin  of  Guglielmo  Grataroli, 
De  memoria  reparanda,  augenda  servandaque  ac  de  reminis- 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS   FROM   THE   ITALIAN.       97 

centia :  tutiora  omnimodo  remedia  et  praeceptiones  optimas 
continens.  Zurich.  1553.  8vo. 

Six  chapters  of  the  work  treat  of  various  medical  and 
philosophical  nostrums  recommended  for  "  conserving  of  the 
Memorye  and  Remerabraunce,"  while  the  seventh  chapter 
explains  several  mnemonic  devices  for  constructing  a  memoria 
technica. 

Memory  takes  leave  of  her  students  with  these  lines, — 

To  him  that  would  me  gladly  gaine, 
These  three  preceptes  shal  not  be  vaine : 
The  fyrst,  is  wel  to  understand 
The  thing  that  he  doth  take  in  hand. 
The  second  is,  the  same  to  place 
In  order  good,  and  formed  race. 
The  thyrde  is,  often  to  repeate 
The  thing  that  he  would  not  forgeate. 

Censura  Literaria,  Vol.  vii,  p.  210. 

"  The  book  contains  many  curious  receipts  for  aiding  the 
memory." — Dictionary  of  National  Biography. 

1562.  The  pleasaunt  and  wittie  playe  of  the  Cheasts  renewed 
....  lately  translated  out  of  Italian  [of  Damiano  da  Odemira\ 
into  French,  and  now  set  forth  in  Englishe,  by  I.  R.  [James 
Rowbothum\. 

R.  Hall  for  J.  Rowbothum,  London,  1562.  8vo.  Black 
letter.  Also,  London,  1569.  8vo.  Black  letter.  Both  in 
the  British  Museum. 

The  Italian  original  of  this  book  appears  to  be, 

Questo  libro  e  da  imparare  giocare  a  scachi  et  de  le  partite. 
[The  description  of  the  chess  problems  is  in  Italian  and  Spanish.] 

Rome.    1512.    4to.   Without  pagination.    British  Museum. 

I  have  not  met  with  the  French  version  mentioned. 

1 563.  Onosandro  Platonico,  of  the  Generall  Captaine,  and 
of  his  office,  translated  out  of  Greke  into  Italian,  by  Fabio 

7 


98  MARY   AUGUSTA   SCOTT. 

Cotta,  a  Romayne:  and  out  of  Italian  into  Englysh  by  Peter 
Whytehorne. 

London :  Willyam  Seres.    1563.    8vo.    Black  letter. 

Dedicated  to  Thomas,  Duke  of  Norfolk. 

The  Italian  original  of  this  work  is, — 

Onosandro  Platonico  dell'  ottimo  Capitano  generate,  e  del  suo 
ufficio,  tradotto  di  Greco  ....  per  F.  [abio\  C.  [ottd\ .  Venice. 
1546.  4to.  British  Museum. 

A  later  Greek  and  Latin  title  runs, — 

'OvocravSpov  ^TparrjryiKos.  Onosandri  Strategicus,  sine  de 
Imperatoris  Institutione.  Accessit  Ovp/SiKiov  eTTLrrjBeviJLa.  N. 
Rigaltius  nunc  primum  ....  Latina  inter pretatione  et  notis 
illustravit.  Gr.  &  Lat. 

Lutetiae  Parisiorum.  1598-99.  4to.  2  pts.  British  Museum, 
(2  copies).  [Heidelberg.]  1600.  4to.  British  Museum.  [Heidel- 
berg.] 1604,1600-05.  4to.  British  Museum. 

Onosander  ('OvocravSpos)  was  a  Greek  writer  of  the  first 
century  after  Christ.  His  ^par^yi/co?  ^0709  is  dedicated  to 
Q.  Veranius,  who  is  probably  the  same  as  Q.  Yeranius  Nepos, 
consul  in  49  A.  D.  It  is  a  popular  work  on  military  tactics 
written  in  imitation  of  the  style  of  Xenophon.  A  Latin 
edition  appeared  at  Rome,  in  1493,  at  the  end  of  Nicolas 
Sagundino's  Rei  militaris  instituta  of  Vegetius  Flavins  Rena- 
tus.  A  French  translation,  by  Jehan  Charrier,  is  dated  Paris, 
1546,  the  year  of  Cotta's  Italian  version. 

1565.  A  most  excellent  and  Learned  Woorke  of  Chirurgerie, 
called  Chirurgia  parua  Lanfranci,  Lanfranke  of  Mylayne  his 
brief  e:  reduced  from  dyuers  translations  to  our  vulgar  or  usuall 
frase,  and  now  first  published  in  the  Englyshe  prynte  by  John 
Halle  Chirurgien.  Who  hath  therunto  necessarily  annexed.  A 
Table,  as  wel  of  the  names  of  diseases  and  simples  with  their 
verlues,  as  also  of  all  other  termes  of  the  arte  opened.  Very 
profitable  for  the  better  understanding  of  the  same,  or  other  like 
workes.  And  in  the  ende  a  compendious  worke  of  Anatomie, 
more  utile  and  profitable,  then  any  here  tofore  in  the  Englyshe 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS    FROM   THE   ITALIAN.       99 

tongue  publyshed.  An  Historiall  Expostulation  also  against 
the  beastly  abusers,  both  of  Chyrurgerie  and  Phisicke  in  our 
tyme  :  With  a  goodly  doctrine,  and  instruction,  necessary  to  be 
marked  andfolowed  of  all  true  Chirurgies.  All  these  faithfully 
gathered,  and  diligently  set  forth,  by  the  sayde  lohn  Halle. 

Imprinted  at  London  in  Flete  streate,  nyghe  unto  saint 
Dunstones  churche,  by  Thomas  Marshe.  An.  1565.  Sm.  4to. 
The  Historiall  Expostulation  was  edited,  for  the  Percy  Society, 
1844.  12mo.  By  T.  J.  Pettigrew. 

On  the  verso  of  the  title-page  there  is  a  wood-cut  of  the 
translator  marked,  "1564.  I.  H.  anno,  aetatis  suae  35." 

Dedicated,  "  Unto  the  Worshipful  the  maisters,  Wardens, 
and  consequently  to  all  the  whole  company  and  brotherhood 
of  Chirurgiens  of  London.  John  Halle,  one  of  the  leste  of 
them,  sendeth  hartie  and  louynge  salutation."  In. "The 
Epistle  Dedicatorie,"  Halle  gives  this  account  of  his  work, — 

"  I  therfore,  as  preparatiue  to  the  reste  that  shall  folowe, 
dedicate  thys  my  symple  laboure,  in  settyng  forth  this  excel- 
lent compendious  worke,  called  Chirurgia  parua  Lanfranci, 
under  your  ayde,  helpe,  succor,  tuition,  and  defence :  whiche 
was  translated  out  of  Frenche  into  the  olde  Saxony  englishe, 
about  twoo  hundred  yeres  past:  Which  I  haue  nowe  not  only 
reduced  to  our  usuall  speache,  by  changyng  or  newe  translat- 
ing suche  wordes,  as  nowe  be  inueterate,  and  growne  out  of 
knowledge  by  processe  of  tyme,  but  also  conferred  my  labours 
in  this  behalf  with  other  copies,  both  in  Frenche  and  latin  : 
namely  with  maister  Bacter,  for  his  latine  copie,  and  Symon 
Hudie  for  his  frech  copie,  and  other  English  copies :  of  the 
which  I  had  one  of  John  Chaber,  &  an  other  of  John  Yates, 
both  very  auncient,  with  other  mo  : " 

John  Halle  paints  a  vivid  picture  of  the  deplorable  ignor- 
ance of  the  medical  profession  of  his  time ;  "  alas,"  he  says, 
"  where  as  there  is  one  in  Englande,  almoste  throughout  al 
the  real  me,  that  is  indede  a  true  minister  of  this  arte,  there 
are  tenne  abhominable  abusers  of  the  same.  Where  as  there 
is  one  chirurgien  that  was  apprentise  to  his  arte,  or  one 


100  MARY   AUGUSTA    SCOTT. 

physicien  that  hath  travayled  in  the  true  studie  and  excercise 
of  phisique,  there  are  tenne  that  are  presumptious  swearers, 
smatterers,  or  abusers  of  the  same ;  yea,  smythes,  cutlers, 
carters,  coblars,  copers,  coriars  of  lether,  carpenters,  and  a 
great  rable  of  women.7' 

He  is  outspoken  against  the  quacks  and  loud  in  his  pro- 
tests against  their  combination  of  magic,  divination,  and 
medicine.  In  one  place  he  says, — "  I  will  not  cease  while 
breath  is  in  my  body,  to  lay  on  with  both  handes  till  this 
battell  be  woune,  and  our  adversaries  convinced  and  van- 
quished;  which,  although,  as  I  saide  afore,  they  are  tenne 
to  one,  yet  truthe  being  our  weapon,  and  good  science  our 
armotire,  with  our  generall  the  high  author  of  them,  we 
nede  not  to  doubt  but  that  one  shal  be  good  enough  for  a 
thousand,  not  so  strongly  armed,  but  naked  men,  and  bare  of 
all  knowledge." 

A  section  of  The  Preface  to  the  Reader,  called  the  "  Proper- 
ties of  a  Chirurgien,"  summarizes  Halle's  ideal  surgeon, — 
"all  that  should  be  admytted  to  that  arte,  should  be  of  cleare 
and  perfect  sight,  well  formed  in  person,  hole  of  mynde  and 
of  members,  sclender  and  tender  fingered,  havyng  a  softe 
and  stedfast  hande :  or  as  the"  common  sentence  is,  a  chirur- 
gien  should  have  three  dyvers  properties  in  his  person.  That 
is  to  saie,  a  harte  as  the  harte  of  a  lyon,  his  eyes  like  the  eyes 
of  an  hawke,  and  his  handes  as  the  handes  of  a  woman." 

One  or  two  quotations  from  the  Expostulation  will  illus- 
trate at  once  Halle's  vigorous  prose  and  the  sort  of  quacks 
he  exposed, — 

"  I  will  here  also  omitte  to  talke  of  Grigge  the  Poulter, 
with  divers  other,  whose  endes  have  made  their  doinges 
knowne.  And  also  of  a  joyner  in  London,  a  Frencheman 
borne,  that  is  of  late  becomme  a  phisitien,  who  is  estemed 
at  this  daye,  among  dyverse  right  worshipfull,  to  be  very 
learned  and  cunnyng,  that  knowe  not  his  originall;  yea, 
they  call  him  doctor  James ;  but  an  honest  woman,  an  olde 
neighbour  of  his,  (not  longe  synce),  at  a  man  of  worshyppes 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS   FROM   THE   ITALIAN.       101 

house  in  Kente,  raerveyled  to  see  hym  in  suche  braverye,  and 
lordly  apparell ;  who,  when  she  tooke  acquaintance  of  hym, 
he  wronge  hyr  harde  by  the  hande,  and  rounded  hyr  in  the 
eare,  saiyng :  if  thou  be  an  honest  woman,  kepe  thy  tongue 
in  thy  headde,  and  saye  nothinge  of  me." 

"  One  named  Kiterell,  dwelleth  in  Kente,  at  a  parysh 
called  Bedersden,  that  hath  been  all  his  lyfe  a  sawyer  of 
tymber  and  borde,  a  man  very  symple,  and  altogether  un- 
learned ;  who  at  this  present  is  become  a  phisitien,  or  rather 
a  detestable  deceavyng  sorcerer.  He  wyll  geve  judgement  on 
urines,  and  whyles  he  loketh  on  the  water,  he  will  grope  and 
fele  him  selfe  all  about ;  and  otherwhyle,  where  as  he  feleth, 
he  will  shrynke,  as  though  he  were  pricked,  or  felte  some 
great  paine.  Then  he  tourneth  to  the  messenger  and  telleth 
him  where,  and  in  what  sorte  the  partie  is  greved ;  whiche 
maketh  the  people  thynke  him  very  cunning.  They  seeke  to 
hym  farre  and  neere  for  remedy  for  suche  as  are  bewyched  or 
inchanted,  and  as  they  commonly  terme  it,  forespoken.  What 
stuffe  is  this,  let  the  wyse  and  learned  judge.  And  he  hath  so 
prospered  with  these  doynges,  that  in  shorte  space  he  hath 
been  able  bothe  to  purchase  and  buylde,  as  I  am  credibly 
en  formed  of  divers  men  that  doe  knowe  and  have  seen  the 
same.  For  there  are  many  that  reporte,  (and  they  no  small 
fooles,)  that  he  hath  cured  suche  as  al  the  learned  phisitiens 
in  England  coulde  doe  no  good  unto,  beleve  it  who  wyll.'-' 

Lanfranci  of  Milan  (died  1306?)  was  a  pupil  of  Gulielmus 
de  Saliceto ;  after  completing  his  studies,  he  settled  in  Lyons, 
France,  whence  he  was,  on  account  of  his  great  reputation, 
called  to  Paris.  The  MS.  of  his  work,  Ars  Chirurgica,  is  in 
the  Bibliotheque  Nationale ;  it  was  first  published  in  Venice 
and  Lyons  (a  French  translation),  in  1490,  and  was  repub- 
lished  in  Venice  in  1519  and  1546.  A  Lyons  imprint  is  dated 
1553,  and  a  German  translation,  by  Otho  Brunfels,  appeared 
at  Frankfort,  in  1566. 

John  Halle  was  a  surgeon  in  practice  at  Maidstone,  in  Kent, 
and  a  "  member  of  the  worshipful  Company  of  Chirurgeons." 


102  MARY   AUGUSTA    SCOTT. 

He  was  a  facile  versifier  and  was  the  author  of  two  collections 
of  verse, — 

Certayne  Chapters  taken  out  of  the  Proverbes  of  Solomon,  with 
other  Chapters  of  the  Holy  Scripture,  and  certayne  Psalmes  of 
David,  translated  into  English  Metre,  by  John  Hall,  1550 
(attributed  in  a  former  impression  to  Thomas  Sternhold), 
and  The  Court  of  Virtue,  containing  many  Holy  or  Spretual 
Songs,  Sonnettes,  Psalmes,  Ballets,  and  Shorte  Sentences,  as  well 
of  Holy  Scripture  as  others,  with  Music,  Notes.  London.  1565. 
16mo. 

1574.  A  Direction  for  the  Health  of  Magistrates  and 
Studentes.  Namely  suche  as  bee  in  their  consistent  Age,  or 
neere  thereunto :  Drawen  as  well  out  of  sundry  good  and  com- 
mendable Authours,  as  also  upon  reason  andfaithfull  experience 
otherwise  certaynely  grounded.  Written  in  Latin  by  Guilielmus 
Gratarolus,  and  Englished,  by  T.  N. 

Imprinted  at  London,  in  Fleetstreete,  by  William  How, 
for  Abraham  Veale.  1574.  Oct.  xiiij.  12mo.  Black  letter. 
British  Museum. 

Dedicated  "  to  the  Right  Honorable  Maister  Francis  Wal- 
syngham,  Esquier,  one  of  the  principall  Secretaries  to  the 
Queenes  moste  excellent  Maiestie,  and  of  hir  Maiesties  moste 
Honorable  Priuie  Counsell." 

T-.  N.  is  Thomas  Newton,  of  Cheshire,  the  poet  and  Latinist, 
who  practised  medicine  for  some  time  before  taking  orders. 

The  directions  for  preserving  health  relate  chiefly  to  diet 
and  exercise  :  of  diet  Newton  says  in  his  Dedication,  "  diet  is 
the  safest,  the  surest  and  the  pleasantest  way  that  can  be  used 
and  farre  to  be  preferred  before  all  other  kindes  of  remedies, 
unlesse  the  disease  be  of  such  vehemence,  quality,  condition 
and  extremitie  that  it  seeme  to  requyre  some  great  speciall 
consideration  otherwise,  and  in  time  of  sicknesse  is  not  onely 
a  special  &  harmlesse  recuratiue,  but  also  in  time  of  health, 
the  best  and  almost  the  onely  preseruative." 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS   FROM   THE   ITALIAN.       103 

"  Man  is  subject  to  very  many  diseases.  Antiquitie  reckened 
up  in  a  beadrolle,  and  registred  in  sundry  of  their  monuments 
left  behinde  them  for  our  erudition  and  furtheraunce,  three 
hundred  and  odde  seuerall  kindes  of  maladies,  besides  casual- 
ties. Since  when,  there  hath  encreased  and  sprong  up  a  fresh 
supply  and  swarme  of  many  strange  and  new  diseases  earst 
not  knowen  nor  heard  of,  seernyng  as  it  were  to  denounce 
defiance  and  continual  warre  to  al  the  cunnyng  that  phisi- 
cions  haue." — British  Bibliographer ,  Vol.  n,  p.  414. 

This  is  a  translation  of  Guglielmo  Grataroli's  work,  called 
De  litteratorum  et  eorum  qui  magistratibus  funguntur  con- 
servanda,  praeservandaque  valitudine,  [illorum  praeeipue  qui 
in  aetate  consistentiae,  vel  non  longe  ab  ea  absunt.  Basle. 
1555.  8vo.].  Paris.  1562.  16mo.  Black  letter.  British 
Museum. 

[1579.]  A  Joyfull  Jewell.  Containing  ....  orders,  preser- 
vatives ....  for  the  Plague  ....  written  in  the  Italian  tung 
by  ....  L.  \_eonard]  Fioravantie  ....  and  now  ....  trans- 
lated .  .  .  .by  T.  H.  [Thomas  Hill.  Edited  by  HiWs  friend, 
John  Hester .] 

Imprinted  for  W.  Wright.  London.  [1579.]  4to.  Black 
letter.  British  Museum. 

Translated  from  the  Count  Leonardo  Fioravanti's, 

II  Reggimento  della  Peste  ....  Nuovamente  ristampato,  cor- 
retto  ed  ampliato,  etc.  Venetia.  1594.  8vo.  British  Museum. 
Other  editions  were,  Venice,  1565,  1571,  and  1626,  8vo. 

John  Hester,  distiller,  or  as  he  styled  himself,  '  practitioner 
in  the  Spagericall  Arte'  (spagyrical,  that  is,  chemical),  carried 
on  business  at  Paul's  Wharf,  from  about  1579  until  his  death 
in  1593.  "Olde  John  Hester "  is  mentioned  as  a  distinguished 
chemist  in  Gabriel  Harvey's  " Pierce' s  Supererogation"  1593. 

1580.  A  short  discours  ....  uppon  chirurgerie  ....  wher- 
unto  is  added  a  number  of  notable  secretes  ....  translated  out 
of  Italyan  into  English  by  J.  [o/w]  Hester. 


104  MARY  AUGUSTA  SCOTT. 

London.  1580.  4to.  Black  letter.  Few  MS.  Notes.  British 
Museum. 

A  Discourse  upon  Chyrurgery Translated  out  of  Italian 

by  J.  \ohn\  Hester, .  .  .  and  now  newly  published  and  augmented, 
.  .  .by R.  [ichard]  Booth. 

E.  Allde.  London.  1626.  4to.  Black  letter.  British 
Museum. 

Translated  from  the  Count  Leonardo  Fioravanti, — 

La  Cirurgia  delV  eccelen.  Dottore  .  .  .  .  L.  F.  distinta  in  tre 
libri  ....  con  una  gionta  de  secreti  nuovi  deW  istesso  autore. 

Venetia.'  1582.  8vo.  Venetia.  1630.  8vo.  Both  in  the 
British  Museum. 

1584.  The  Art  of  Riding,  set  foorth  in  a  breefe  treatise, 
with  a  due  interpretation  of  certeine  places  alledged  out  of 
Xenophon,  and  Gryson,  [Federico  Grisone],  very  expert  and 
excellent  Horssemen :  Wherein  also  the  true  use  of  the  hand  by 
the  said  Grysons  rules  and  precepts  is  speciallie  touched:  and 
how  the  Author  of  this  present  worke  hath  put  the  same  in 
practise,  also  what  profit  men  maie  reape  thereby :  without  the 
knowledge  whereof,  all  the  residu  of  the  order  of  Riding  is 
but  vaine.  Lastlie  is  added  a  short  discourse  of  the  Chaine 
or  Cauezzan,  the  Trench,  and  the  Martingale:  written  by 
[G.  B.~\  a  gentleman  of  great  skill  and  long  experience  of 
the  said  Art. 

Henrie  Denham,  London,  1584.    4to.    British  Museum. 

The  translator  is  John  Astley,  "  Maister  of  her  Majesties 
Jewell  house." 

See  Thomas  Blundeville's  A  newe  booke,  containing  the  arte 
of  ry ding.  [1560?] 

1584.  The  Art  of  Riding,  conteining  diverse  necessarie 
instructions,  demonstrations,  helps,  and  corrections  appertein- 
ing  to  Horsemanship.  Written  at  large  in  the  Italian  Toong 
by  Maister  Claudio  Corte.  Brieflie  reduced  into  certaine  Eng- 
lish discourses.  [By  Thomas  Bedingfield.'] 


ELIZABETHAN    TRANSLATIONS    FROM   THE    ITALIAN.       105 

H.  Denham.  London.  1584.  4to.  Pp.  112.  British 
Museum. 

Dedicated  to  "  M.  Hen.  Machwilliam." 

A  translation  of  Claudio  Corte's,  II  Cavallerizzo :  nel  quale 
si  tratta  .  .  .  .  di  tutto  quello  che  a'  Cavalli  et  d  buon  Caval- 
lerizzo s'appartiene.  Venetia.  1573.  4to.  British  Museum. 

1586.  A  Brief "e  and  pleasaunt  Treatise,  Intituled :  Naturatt 
and  Artificial^  Conclusions  :  Written  firste  by  sundry  Schollers 
of  the  Universitie  of  Padua  .  .  .  .  at  the  .  .  .  .  request  of  one 
Bartholmew,  a  Tuscane ;  and  now  Englished  by  T.  Hyll, 
[Thomas  Hill,  Londoner]  etc. 

E.  Allde.  London.  1586.  8vo.  Black  letter.  British 
Museum.  Also,  London.  [October  2.]  1650  [1649].  8vo. 
Black  letter.  British  Museum.  London.  1670.  8vo.  British 
Museum.  London.  1684.  8vo.  Black  letter.  British  Museum. 

1588.  Most  brief  e  Tables  to  know  redily  how  manie  Ranches 
of  Footemen  armed  with  Corsletts,  as  unarmed,  go  to  the  mak- 
ing of  a  iust  Battaile,  from  an  hundred  unto  twentie  thousand, 
&c.  Tourned  out  of  Italian  into  English,  by  H.  G. 

T.  East,  for  J.Wight:  London.  1588.  4to.  Black  letter. 
British  Museum.  Also,  an  earlier  edition,  W.  Williamson. 
London.  1574.  4to.  (Lowndes.) 

A  translation  of  a  work  on  military  tactics  by  Girolamo 
Cataneo  (Novarese),  entitled, — 

Tavole  brevissime  per  sapere  con  prestezza  quanto  file  vanno 
d  formare  una  giustissima  bataglia.  Brescia.  1563.  8vo. 
British  Museum. 

Dedicated  by  the  author  to  the  Earle  Aloigi  Anogardo. 

1588.  Three  Bookes  of  Colloquies  concerning  the  Arte  of 
Shooting  in  great  and  small  peeces  of  Artillerie :  .  .  .  Written 
in  Italian  .  .  .  .  by  N.  [iccold]  T.  [artaglia\  ....  translated 
into  English  by  C.  [ypriari]  Lucar  ....  also  ....  a  Treatise 
named  Lucar  Appendix  .  ...  to  shew  the  office  and  dutie  of  a 
Gunner,  etc. 


106  MARY   AUGUSTA    SCOTT. 

London,  by  Thomas  Dawson,  for  John  Harrison,  1588. 
Folio.  British  Museum. 

Dedicated,  by  the  publisher,  to  the  Earl  of  Leicester,  and 
fully  illustrated. 

Translated  from  Niccolo  Tartaglia's  treatise  on  the  theory 
and  practice  of  gunnery,  entitled, 

Nuova  Scienza,  doe  Invenzione  nuovamente  trovata,  utile  per 
ciascuno,  speculative,  matematico,  bombardiero,  ed  altri.  Venice. 
1537.  4to.  Ibid.,  1550,  1551,  1583.  4to.  In  French,  par 
Reiffel,  Paris,  1845-46.  2  pts.  8vo. 

Lucar's  Appendix,  "  collected  out  of  divers  good  authors," 
"  to  shew  unto  the  Reader  the  Properties,  Office,  and  Dutie 
of  a  Gunner,  and  to  teach  him  to  make  and  refine  Artificial 
Saltpeter,"  is  far  longer  than  the  translation  from  Tartaglia. 

1588.  [II  Padre  di  Famiglia.]  [The  Householders']  Phil- 
osophic. Wherein  is  perfectly  and  profitably  described,  the  true 
Oeconomia  and  Forme  of  Housekeeping.  First  written  in 
Italian,  by  that  excellent  Orator  and  Poet,  Signior  Torquato 
Tasso,  and  now  translated  by  T.  K.  Whereunto  is  anexed  a 
dairie  booke  for  all  good  huswives.  Dedicated  to  them  by 
Bartholomew  Dowe. 

At  London.  Printed  by  J.  [ohn]  C.  [harlewood]  for  T. 
Hacket.  1588.  4to.  Black  letter.  British  Museum. 

This  work  is  a  translation  of  Tasso's  famous  dialogue,  II 
Padre  di  Famiglia.  Venice.  1583.  12mo.  1825.  12mo. 

Torquato  Tasso,  in  one  of  his  sudden  fits  of  melancholy 
and  suspicion  determined  to  flee  from  the  court  of  Urbino  and 
put  himself  under  the  protection  of  the  Duke  of  Savoy.  On 
the  road  to  Vercelli,  arriving  one  evening  at  the  banks  of  the 
Sesia,  he  found  the  river  so  swollen  that  the  ferryman  refused 
absolutely  to  venture  over.  A  storm  came  on,  and  Tasso, 
weary  and  footsore,  would  have  been  in  a  sad  plight  had 
he  not  met  with  a  young  man  who  kindly  offered  him  the 
hospitality  of  his  home  for  the  night.  It  proved  to  be  a 
neighboring  mansion,  where  the  young  man  introduced  the 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS   FROM   THE   ITALIAN.       107 

guest  to  his  father,  a  venerable  man  whose  appearance  was  as 
pleasing  as  his  entertainment  was  generous  and  elegant. 

Tasso  had  at  first  declined  revealing  his  name,  but  over  the 
wine  and  fruits,  his  reserve  wore  away,  and  when  the  con- 
versation turned  at  last  upon  the  economy  of  agriculture,  he 
displayed  so  much  learning,  and  spoke  so  eloquently  of  the 
creation  of  the  world,  and  of  the  sun's  motions,  that  his  host 
divined  who  he  was.  The  disclosure  of  identity  is  most 
delicately  expressed  by  the  old  man,  i  he  now  knew  he  was 
entertaining  a  more  illustrious  guest  than  he  had  at  first 
supposed,  his  guest  was  perhaps  the  person  of  whom  some 
rumor  had  spread  in  those  parts,  who,  having  fallen  into 
misfortunes  by  some  human  error,  was  as  much  deserving  of 
pardon,  from  the  nature  of  his  offence,  as  he  was  in  other 
respects  worthy  of  admiration  and  renown/ 

The  simplicity  and  beauty  and  repose  of  the  domestic 
picture  in  which  Tasso  has  framed  the  romantic  incident  are 
unsurpassed.  And  the  effect  is  all  the  more  heightened  by 
the  setting  as  an  interval  of  peace  between  struggles.  The 
poet  was  taken  in  at  nightfall  out  of  the  storm,  and  the  next 
morning,  he  tells  us,  he  went  on  to  Turin,  moneyless,  and 
compelled  to  wade  on  foot  through  mire  and  water. 

1594.  G.  di  Grassi  his  true  Arte  of  Defence,  plainlie  teach- 
ing ....  how  a  man  ....  may  safelie  handle  all  sortes  of 
Weapons.  .  .  .  With  a  Treatise  of  Disceit  or  Falsmge,  and 
with  a  Waie  or  Meane  by  private  Industrie  to  obtaine  Strength, 
Judgment  and  Activitie.  First  written  in  Italian  ....  and 
Englished  by  I.  G.  gentleman.  2  pts. 

For  I.  I.,  London.    1594.    4to.    British  Museum. 

Dedicated  to  '  L.  Borrow,  Lord  Gouernor  of  the  Breil,  and 
Knight  of  the  Garter/  by  the  editor,  Thomas  Churchyard. 

This  book  on  fencing  is  a  translation  of  Giacomo  di  Grassi's, 

Ragione  di  adoprar  sicuramente  VArme  si  da  offesa  come  da 
difesa. 

Venetia.    1570.    4to.    British  Museum. 


108  MARY   AUGUSTA    SCOTT. 

1594.  Examen  de  Ingenios.  The  Examination  of  Mens 
Wits  . ...  In  whicch  [sic],  by  discovering  the  varietie  of  natures, 
is  shewed  for  what  profession  each  is  apt,  and  how  far  he  shall 
profit  therein. — Translated  out  of  the  Spanish  tongue  [of  Juan 
de  Dios  Huarte  Navarro]  by  M.  C.  Camilli.  Englished  out  of 
his  Italian,  by  R.  [ichard]  C.  [arew~\  Esquire,  [and  partly  by 
his  father,  Thomas  Carewf~\ 

Adam  Islip,  for  R.  Watkins,  London,  1594.  4to.  British 
Museum.  1596.  4to.  1604.  4to.  Brit.  Mus.  1616.  4to. 
Brit.  Mus. 

Dedicated  to  Sir  Francis  Godolphin. 

The  originals  of  this  translation,  named  in  the  title,  are 
from  the  Spanish  of  Huarte  Navarro, — 

Examen  de  ingenios  para  las  sciencias,  donde  se  muestra  la 
dijferencia  de  habilidades  que  ay  en  los  hombres,  y  el  genero  de 
letras  que  d,  cada  uno  responde  en  particular. 

Pamplona:  1578.    8vo.    British  Museum. 

Camilli's  translation  of  this  is  dated  four  years  later, 

Essame  de  gV  ingegni  de  gli  huomini,  per  apprender  le 
scienze:  .  .  .  nuovamente  tradotto  dalla  lingua  Spagnuola  da 
M.  C.  C.  [Edited  by  Niccola  Manassi.] 

Venice.  1582.  8vo.  British  Museum.  1586.  8vo.  Brit. 
Mus.  1590.  8vo.  Brit.  Mus. 

A  French  translation,  by  Gabriel  Chappuis,  is  dated,  Lyon, 
1580,  16mo.,  and  the  work  was  also  rendered  into  Latin 
and  German,  reaching  altogether  numerous  editions  in  the 
six  languages.  The  British  Museum  Catalogue  gives  in  all 
twenty-three  editions. 

The  latest  English  imprint  is  a  new  translation,  made  in 
1698,  by  Edward  Bellamy,— 

Examen  de  Ingenios :  or,  the  Tryal  of  Wits.  .  .  .  Published 
originally  in  Spanish  by  Doctor  J.  Huarte,  and  made  English 
by  Mr.  Bellamy. 

London.     1698.    8vo.    British  Museum. 

Juan  de  Dios  Huarte  Navarro  was  a  Spanish  physician  who 
flourished  in  the  sixteenth  century.  His  book,  the  Examen  de 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS    FROM    THE    ITALIAN.       109 

Ingenios,  is  a  treatise  on  the  corporeal  and  mental  qualities  of 
men  and  women.  Its  popularity  may  be  explained,  partly  by 
the  absurd  and  curious  theories  it  advances,  and  partly  by  the 
originality  and  sound  sense  it  shows;  the  book  closes,  for 
example,  with  some  excellent  ideas  on  the  rearing  of  children. 

1595.  A  most  strange  and  wonder/ail  prophesie  upon  this 
troublesome  world.  Calculated  by ....  I.  [Giovanni]  Oypriano: 
Conferred  with  the  judgements  of  J.  [ames]  Marchecelsus  and 
Sinnior  Guivardo.  .  .  .  Whereunto  is  annexed  T.  Vandermers 
seaven  yeres  study  in  the  Arte  of  Magick,  upon  the  twelve  moneths 
of  the  yeare.  .  .  .  Translated  out  of  Italian  by  A.  \nthony~] 
Holloway. 

London  :  1595.    4to.    British  Museum. 

From  the  Italian  of  Giovanni  Cipriano. 

Tarquatus  Vandermer  published  in  1569, 

T.  Vandermers  seaven  yeares  studie  in  the  arte  of  Magicke, 
upon  the  twelve  moneths  of  the  yeare :  wherein  many  secrets  are 
reveald  unto  the  world.  [London.]  1569.  4to. 

1595.  Vincentio  Saviolo  his  Practise,  in  two  Bookes.  The 
first  intreating  the  use  of  the  Rapier  and  Dagger.  The  second, 
of  Honor  and  honorable  Quarrels.  Both  interlaced  with  sun- 
drie  pleasant  Discourses,  not  unfit  for  all  Gentlemen  and  Cap- 
taines  that  professe  Armes. 

London.  Printed  by  John  Wolfe.  1595.  4to.  Woodcuts. 
Huth.  British  Museum,  (2  copies). 

Dedicated  to  Robert  Devereux,  Earl  of  Essex  and  Ewe. 

This  is  conjectured  to  be  '  the  book 7  by  which  Touchstone 
professes  to  regulate  his  quarrels,  and  from  which  he  appears 
to  derive  his  nice  distinctions  as  to  the  nature  of  lies.  As 
You  Like  It,  v.  4.  Touchstone  refers  to  a  section  of  Book  II, 
which  is  headed, — "  Of  the  manner  and  diversitie  of  Lies/7 
These  are  1)  Lies  certaiue,  2)  Conditional  lies,  3)  Lies  in 
general,  4)  Lies  in  particular,  5)  Foolish  Lies,  and  6)  The 
returning  back  of  the  Lie. 


110  MAEY    AUGUSTA    SCOTT. 

Vincentio  Saviolo  was  a  Paduan  fencing- master  patronized 
and  employed  by  the  Earl  of  Essex.  I  find  some  account  of 
him  in  A  Brief  Notice  of  Three  Italian  Teachers  of  Offence. 
The  Antiquarian  Repertory.  Grose  and  Astle.  Vol.  I,  pp. 
165-169.  The  extract  is  taken  from  George  Silver's  Para- 
doxes of  Defence.  1599.  4to. 

"There  were  three  Italian  Teachers  of  Offence  in  my  time. 
The  first  was  Signior  Rocko :  the  second  was  Jerouimo,  that 
was  Signior  Rocko  his  boy,  that  taught  gentlemen  in  the 
Blacke-Fryers,  as  usher  for  his  maister  insteed  of  a  man  :  the 
third  was  Vincentio.  This  Signior  Rocko  came  into  England 
about  some  thirtie  yeares  past :  he  taught  the  noblemen  and 
gentlemen  of  the  court ;  he  caused  some  of  them  to  weare 
leaden  soales  in  their  shoes,  the  better  to  bring  them  to 
nimblenesse  of  feet  in  their  fight.  He  disbursed  a  great 
summe  of  mony  for  the  lease  of  a  faire  house  in  Warwicke- 
lane,  which  he  called  his  colledge,  for  he  thought  it  great 
disgrace  for  him  to  keepe  a  fence-schoole,  he  being  then 
thought  to  be  the  only  famous  maister  of  the  arte  of  armes 
in  the  whole  world.  He  caused  to  be  fairely  drawne  and  set 
round  about  his  schoole  all  the  noblemen's  and  gentlemen's 
armes  that  were  his  schollers,  and  hanging  right  under  their 
armes  their  rapiers,  daggers,  gloves  of  male  and  gantlets. 
Also,  he  had  benches  and  stooles,  the  roome  being  verie 
large,  for  gentlemen  to  sit  round  about  his  schoole  to  behold 
his  teaching.  He  taught  none  commonly  under  twentie, 
fortie,  fifty,  or  an  hundred  pounds.  *  And  because  all  things 
should  be  verie  necessary  for  the  noblemen  and  gentlemen, 
he  had  in  his  schoole  a  large  square  table,  with  a  greene 
carpet,  done  round  with  a  verie  brode  rich  fringe  of  gold, 
alwaies  standing  upon  it  a  verie  faire  stand ish  covered  with 
crimson  velvet,  with  inke,  pens,  pin-dust,  and  sealing-waxe, 
and  quiers  of  verie  excellent  fine  paper  gilded,  readie  for 
the  noblemen  and  gentlemen  (upon  occasion)  to  write  their 
letters,  being  then  desirous  to  follow  their  fight,  to  send  their 
men  to  dispatch  their  businesse.  And  to  know  how  the  time 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS   FROM   THE   ITALIAN.       Ill 

passed,  he  had  in  one  corner  of  his  schoole  a  clocke,  with  a 
verie  faire  large  diall :  he  had  within  that  schoole,  a  roome 
the  which  was  called  his  privie  schoole,  with  manie  weapons 
therein,  where  he  did  teach  his  sch oilers  his  secret  fight,  after 
he  had  perfectly  taught  them  their  rules.  He  was  verie 
much  beloved  in  the  court." 

"  Then  came  in  Vincentio  and  Jeronimo ;  they  taught  rapier- 
fight  at  the  court,  at  London,  and  in  the  countrey,  by  the  seaven 
or  eight  yeares  or  thereabouts.  These  two  Italian  fencers, 
especially  Yincentio,  said  that  Englishmen  were  strong  men, 
but  had  no  cunning,  and  they  would  go  backe  too  much  in 
their  fight,  which  was  great  disgrace  unto  them.  Upon  these 
words  of  disgrace  against  Englishmen,  my  brother  Toby  Silver 
and  myselfe  made  challenge  against  them  both,  to  play  with 
them  at  the  single  rapier,  rapier  and  dagger,  the  single  dagger, 
the  single  sword,  the  sword  and  target,  the  sword  and  buckler, 
and  two  hand-sword,  the  staffe,  battell-axe,  and  morris-pike, 
to  be  played  at  the  Bell  Savage  upon  the  scaffold,  where  he 
that  went  in  his  fight  faster  backe  than  he  ought,  of  English- 
man or  Italian,  shold  be  in  danger  to  breake  his  necke  off  the 
scaffold.  We  caused  to  that  effect,  five  or  six  score  bils  of 
challenge  to  be  printed,  and  set  up  from  Southwarke  to  the 
Tower,  and  from  thence  through  London  to  Westminster; 
we  were  at  the  place  with  all  these  weapons  at  the  time 
appointed,  within  a  bow-shot  of  their  fence  skoole :  many 
gentlemen  of  good  accompt,  carried  manie  of  the  bils  of 
chalenge  unto  them,  telling  them  that  now  the  Silvers  were 
at  the  place  appointed,  with  all  their  weapons,  looking  for 
them,  and  a  multitude  of  people  there  to  behold  the  fight, 
saying  unto  them,  '  Now  come  and  go  with  us  (you  shall  take 
no  wrong)  or  else  you  are  shamed  for  ever/  Do  the  gentle- 
men what  they  could,  these  gallants  would  not  come  to  the 
place  of  triall.  I  verily  thinke  their  cowardly  feare  to 
answere  this  chalenge,  had  utterly  shamed  them  indeed,  had 
not  the  maisters  of  defence  of  London,  within  two  or  three 
daies  after,  bene  drinking  of  bottell  ale  hard  by  Vincentio's 


112  MARY   AUGUSTA   SCOTT. 

schoole,  iii  a  hall  where  the  Italians  must  of  necessitie  passe 
through  to  go  to  their  schoole :  and  as  they  were  coming  by, 
the  maisters  of  defence  did  pray  them  to  drinke  with  them, 
but  the  Italians  being  very  cowardly,  were  afraide,  and 
presently  drew  their  rapiers :  there  was  a  pretie  wench  stand- 
ing by,  that  loved  the  Italians ;  she  ran  with  outcrie  into  the 
street,  'helpe,  helpe,  the  Italians  are  like  to  be  slaine:'  the 
people  with  all  speede  came  running  into  the  house,  and  with 
their  cappes  and  such  things  as  they  could  get,  parted  the 
fraie,  for  the  English  maisters  of  defence  meant  nothing  lesse 
than  to  foile  their  handes  upon  these  two  faint-harted  fellows. 
The  next  morning  after,  all  the  court  was  filled,  that  the 
Italian  teachers  of  fence  had  beaten  all  the  maisters  of  defence 
in  London,  who  set  upon  them  in  a  house  together.  This  wan 
the  Italian  fencers  their  credit  againe,  and  thereby  got  much, 
still  continuing  their  false  teaching  to  the  end  of  their  lives. 
uThis  Vincentio  proved  himselfe  a  stout  man  not  long 
before  he  died,  that  it  might  be  seene  in  his  life  time  he  had 
beene  a  gallant,  and  therefore  no  maruaile  he  tooke  upon  so 
highly  to  teach  Englishmen  to  fight,  and  £0  set  forth  bookes  of 
thefeates  of  armes.  Upon  a  time  at  Wels  in  Somersetshire,  as 
he  was  in  great  braverie  amongst  manie  gentlemen  of  good 
accompt,  with  great  boldnesse  he  gave  out  speeches,  that  he 
had  bene  thus  manie  yeares  in  England,  and  since  the  time  of 
his  first  comming,  there  was  not  in  it  one  Englishman,  that 
could  once  touch  him  at  the  single  rapier,  or  rapier  and  dagger. 
A  valiant  gentleman  being  there  amongst  the  rest,  his  Eng- 
lish hart  did  rise  to  heare  this  proud  boaster,  secretly  sent  a 
messenger  to  one  Bartholomew  Bramble  a  friend  of  his,  a  verie 
tall  man  both  of  his  hands  and  person,  who  kept  a  schoole  of 
defence  in  towne ;  the  messenger  by  the  way  made  the  maister 
of  defence  acquainted  with  the  mind  of  the  gentleman  that 
sent  for  him,  and  of  all  what  Vincentio  had  said ;  this  maister 
of  defence  presently  came,  and  amongst  all  the  gentlemen  with 
his  cap  off,  prayed  Maister  Vincentio  that  he  would  be  pleased 
to  take  a  quart  of  wine  of  him.  Vincentio,  very  scornefully 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS   FROM   THE   ITALIAN.       113 

looking  upon  him,  said  unto  him  :  "  Wherefore  should  you 
give  me  a  quart  of  wine  ? "  "  Marie,  sir,  said  he,  because  I 
heare  you  are  a  famous  man  at  your  weapon/'  Then  presently 
said  the  gentleman  that  sent  for  the  maister  of  defence, 

"  Maister  Vincentio,  I  pray  you  bid  him  welcome,  he  is  a 
man  of  your  profession." 

"My  profession?"  said  Vincentio.  What  is  my  profes- 
sion? 

Then  said  the  gentleman,  "  He  is  a  maister  of  the  noble 
science  of  defence." 

"  Why,"  said  Maister  Vincentio,  "  God  make  him  a  good 
man." 

But  the  maister  of  defence  would  not  thus  leave  him,  but 
prayed  him  againe  he  would  be  pleased  to  take  a  quart  of 
wine  of  him. 

Then  said  Vincentio,  "  I  have  no  need  of  thy  wine." 

Then  said  the  maister  of  defence :  "  Sir,  I  have  a  schoole 
of  defence  in  the  towne,  will  it  please  you  to  go  thither  ?  " 

"  Thy  schoole  ! "  said  maister  Vincentio ;  "  what  should  I 
do  at  thy  skoole  ?  " 

"  Play  with  me  (said  the  maister)  at  the  rapier  and  dagger, 
if  it  please  you." 

"  Play  with  thee  ! "  said  maister  Vincentio.  "  If  I  play 
with  thee,  I  will  hit  thee,  1,  2,  3,  4,  thrustes  in  the  eie 
together." 

Then  said  the  maister  of  defence,  "  If  you  can  do  so,  it  is 
the  better  for  you,  and  the  worse  for  me,  but  surely  I  can 
hardly  beleeve  that  you  can  hit  me :  but  yet  once  againe  I 
hartily  pray  you,  good  sir,  that  you  will  go  to  my  schoole, 
and  play  with  me." 

"  Play  with  thee  ! "  said  maister  Vincentio  (very  scorne- 
fully) ;  "  by  God,  me  scorne  to  play  with  thee  ! " 

With  that  word  '  scorne/  the  maister  of  defence  was  verie 

much  moved,  and  up  with  his  great  English  fist,  and  stroke 

maister  Vincentio  such  a  boxe  on  the  eare  that  he  fell  over 

and  over,  his  legges  just  against  a  butterie  hatch,  whereon 

8 


114  MARY   AUGUSTA   SCOTT. 

stood  a  great  blacke  jacke ;  the  maister  of  defence  fearing  the 
worst,  against  Vincentio  his  rising,  catcht  the  blacke  jacke 
into  his  hand,  being  more  then  halfe  full  of  beere.  Vincentio 
lustily  start  up,  laying  his  hand  on  his  dagger,  and  with  the 
other  hand  pointed  with  his  finger,  saying  very  well, 

"I  will  cause  to  lie  in  the  gaile  for  this  geare,  1,  2,  3,  4 
yeares." 

"And  well,"  said  the  maister  of  defence,  "since  you  will 
drinke  no  wine,  will  you  pledge  me  in  beere?  I  drinke  to 
all  the  cowardly  knaves  in  England,  and  I  think  thee  to  be 
the  veriest  coward  of  them  all : "  with  that  he  cast  all  the 
beere  upon  him :  notwithstanding  Vincentio  having  nothing 
but  his  guilt  rapier  and  dagger  about  him,  and  the  other  for 
his  defence  the  blacke  jacke,  would  not  at  that  time  fight  it 
out :  but  the  next  day  met  with  the  maister  of  defence  in  the 
streete,  and  said  unto  him, 

"  You  remember  how  misused  a  me  yesterday,  you  were  to 
blame,  me  be  an  excellent  man,  me  teach  you  how  to  thrust  two 
foote  further  than  anie  Englishman,  but  first  come  you  with 
me :  then  he  brought  him  to  a  mercer's  shop,  and  said  to  the 
mercer,  "  Let  me  see  of  your  best  silken  pointes  ; " — the  mercer 
did  presently  shew  him  some,  of  seven  groates  a  dozen ;  then 
he  payeth  fourteen  groates  for  two  dozen,  and  said  to  the 
maister  of  defence, 

"  There  is  one  dozen  for  you,  and  here  is  another  for  me." 

"This  was  one  of  the  valiantest  fencers  that  came  from 
beyond  the  seas  to  teach  Englishmen  to  fight,  and  this  was 
one  of  the  manliest  frayes,  that  I  have  heard  of,  that  ever  he 
made  in  England,  wherein  he  shewed  himselfe  a  fare  better 
man  in  his  life,  than  in  his  profession  he  was,  for  he  professed 
armes,  but  in  his  life  a  better  Christian. 

"  He  set  forth  in  print  a  booke  for  the  use  of  the  rapier  and 
dagger,  the  which  he  called  his  practice.  I  have  read  it  over, 
and  because  I  finde  therein  neither  true  rule  for  the  perfect 
teaching  of  true  fight,  nor  true  ground  for  true  fight,  neither 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS   FROM   THE   ITALIAN.       115 

sence  or  reason  for  due  proofe  thereof,  I  have  thought  it 
frivolous  to  recite  any  part  therein  contained." 

Apart  from  the  interesting  description  of  a  fencing-school 
in  the  time  of  Elizabeth,  I  would  call  attention  to  this  record 
of  Vincentio's  broken  English,  by  an  ear-witness  who  knew 
him.  For  myself  it  is  the  earliest  authentic  bit  of  broken 
English  I  know  of. 

1596.  A  Boolce  of  Secrets:  Shewing  divers  waies  to  make 
and  prepare  all  sorts  of  Inke,  and  Colours  ....  also  to  write 
with  Gold  and  Silver,  or  any  kind  of  Mettall  out  of  the  Pen  : 
with   many  other  profitable  secrets.    .    .   .     Translated  out  of 
Dutch  into  English,  by  W.  [illiam~\  P.  [hilipf}.    Hereunto  is 
annexed  a  little  Treatise,  intituled,  Instructions  for  ordering  of 
Wines.  .  .  .    Written  first  in  Italian,  and  now  newly  translated 

into  English,  by  W.  P. 

A.  Islip  for  E.  White,  London,  1596.  4to.  Black  letter. 
British  Museum. 

1597.  Ludus  Scacchiae :  Chesse-play.    A  Game,  both  pleas- 
ant, wittie,  and  politicke :  with  certain  brief e  instructions  there- 
unto belonging.    Translated  out  of  the  Italian  [of  Damiano  da 
Odemird]  into  the  English  tongue  [by  J.  Rowbothum].     Con- 
taining also  therein,  A  prety  and  pleasant  Poeme  of  a  whole 
Game  played  at  Chesse  [i.  e.  a  translation  into  English  verse, 
by  W.  B.,  of  the  Ludus  Scacchiae  of  H.  Vida].     Written  by 
G.B. 

Printed  at  London  by  H.  Jackson,  dwelling  beneath  the 
Conduite  in  Fleet  street.  1597.  4to.  2  pts.  24  leaves. 
British  Museum,  (2  copies).  Part  I  is  without  pagination, 
and  is  merely  an  abridgment  of  Rowbothum's  translation, 
1562. 

In  an  Address  to  the  Reader  the  translator,  after  asserting 
that  "  most  men  are  giuen  rather  to  play  than  to  studie  or 
trauell,"  argues  that  "this  game,  or  kingly  pastime,  is  not 
onely  void  of  craft,  fraud,  and  guile,  swearing,  staring,  im- 


116  MARY   AUGUSTA    SCOTT. 

patience,  fretting,  and  falling  out,  but  also  breedeth  in  the 
players,  a  certaine  study,  wit,  pollicie,  forecast  and  memorie, 
not  onely  in  the  play  thereof  but  also  in  actions  of  publike 
gouernement,  both  in  peace  and  warre." 

Then  follows  a  description  of  the  pieces,  a  diagram  of  "  the 
checker  or  chesse  boorde,"  and  an  explanation  of  the  game. 

The  poem,  entitled  Scacchia  Ludus,  occupies  thirty  pages 
and  gives  an  account  of  the  wedding  of  Oceanus  and  Tellus. 
To  help  entertain  the  deities  who  are  his  guests,  Oceanus  calls 
for  the  board  "  that  hangd  upon  a  wall,"  and  Apollo  and 
Mercury  play  a  game  in  which  Apollo  is  checkmated.  Mer- 
cury, travelling  afterwards  in  Italy,  falls  in  love  with  a 
Sereian  nymph,  and 

Of  her  name  Scacchis  Scacchia 

this  play  at  Chesse  did  call : 
And  that  this  God  in  memorie 

the  Lasse  might  longer  haue, 
A  Boxen  chesse  boord  gilded  round 

unto  the  gerle  he  gaue, 
And  taught  her  cunning  in  the  same, 

to  play  the  game  by  arte, 
Which  after  to  the  countrey  swaines 

this  Lady  did  imparte  : 
Who  taught  their  late  posteritie 

to  use  this  kinde  of  play, 
A  game  of  great  antiquitie 

still  used  at  this  day. 

British  Bibliographer,  vol.  I,  pp.  382-4. 

Scacchia  is  from  scacco,  a  square,  scacchi,  chess-men. 

1598.  Epulario,  or,  the  Italian  Banquet:  wherein  is  shewed 
the  maner  how  to  dresse  .  ...  all  kinds  of  Flesh,  Foules  or 
Fishes.  .  .  .  Translated  out  of  Italian. 

Printed  by  A.  I.  for  W.  Barley,  London,  1598.  4to. 
Black  letter.  British  Museum. 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS   FROM   THE   ITALIAN.       117 

This  is  a  translation  of  a  popular  cookery-book, 

Epulario  quale  tratta  del  modo  de  cucinare  ogni  carne  ucetti 

pesci  de  ogni  sorte  r  fare  sapori,  torte,  r  paslellj  al  modo  de 

tutte  le  provjncje. 

Veuetia.     1549.     8vo.,  and  1562.    8vo. :  Messina.    1606. 

8vo. :  Trevigi.     1649.     8vo.,  all  in  the  British  Museum. 

1598.  A  Trade  containing  the  Aries  of  curious  Paintinge, 
Caruinge  &  Buildinge  written  first  in  Italian  by  Jo:  Paul 
Lomatius  painter  of  Milan  and  englished  by  R.  [ichard]  H. 
[aydocke~\  student  in  Physik.  .  .  .  [Colophon.] 

Printed  at  Oxford  by  Joseph  Barnes  for  R.  H.  Anno 
Domini,  M-D-XC- VIIL  Folio.  Huth.  British  Museum. 

Dedicated,  "To  the  Right  Worshipfull  Thomas  Bodley 
Esquire." 

A  translation  of  Giovanni  Paolo  Lomazzo's,  Trattato  delV 
arte  de  la  Pittura  di  G.  P.  Lomazzo,  Milanese  Pittore,  diviso 
in  sette  libri  ne'  quali  si  contiene  tutta  la  Theorica  &  la  Prattica 
d'essa  Pittura.  Milano.  1584.  4to.  British  Museum,  (2  copies). 

The  title-page  is  engraved,  and  contains  portraits  of  the 
author  and  of  the  translator.  Haydocke's  prefatory  address, 
"  To  the  ingenuous  reader,"  contains  many  curious  and  interest- 
ing notes  on  painters  and  painting.  Speaking  of  the  restoration 
of  old  pictures  in  his  own  day,  he  says :  "  For  my  selfe  have 
seene  divers  goodlie  olde  workes  finely  marred,  with  fresh 
and  beawtifull  colours,  and  vernishes :  a  singular  argument 
(to  say  nothing  of  the  Owners)  of  the  bolde  and  confident 
ignorance  of  the  workeraen." 

1602.  The  Theoriques  of  the  seven  Planets,  shewing  all  their 
diverse  motions,  and  all  other  Accidents,  called  Passions,  there- 
unto belonging.  .  .  .  Whereunto  is  added  .  .  .  .  a  breefe  Extract 
....  of  Maginus  [Giovanni  Antonio  Magini]  his  Theoriques, 
for  the  better  understanding  of  the  Prutenicall  Tables,  to  calcu- 
late thereby  the  .  .  .  .  motions  of  the  Seven  Planets.  There  is 
also  ....  added,  The  making,  description  and  use,  of  two  .... 


118  MARY   AUGUSTA   SCOTT. 

Instruments  for  Sea-men,  to  find  out  .  ...  the  latitude  of  any 
place  ....  without  the  helpe  of  Sunne,  Moone,  or  Starre.  First 
invented  by  .  .  .  .  Doctor  Gilbert  ....  and  nowe  .  ...  set  downe 
.  ...  by  Master  Blundevile  \_Thomas  Blundeville~\.  2  pt. 

A.  Islip,  London,  1602.    4to.    British  Museum. 

The  '  Extract '  from  Magini  was  probably  made  from  his, 

Tabulae  secundorum  mobilium  coelestium,  ex  quibus  omnium 
syderum  aequabiles  &  apparentes  motus  ad  quaevis  tempora 
....  colliguntur,  congruentes  cum  observationibus  Copernici,  & 
canonibus  Prutenicis,  etc. 

Venetiis.    1 585.    4to.    British  Museum. 

The  Prutenicall,  that  is,  Prussian  Tables,  (from  Prutenus, 
Prutinus,  Pruxenus,  Prussian)  were  certain  planetary  tables 
making  the  first  application  of  the  Copernican  theory  of  the 
solar  system.  They  were  formulated,  in  1551,  by  Erasmus 
Reinbold,  and  were  named  in  honor  of  his  patron,  Albrecht, 
Duke  of  Prussia. 

1611.  The  first  (—the  fift)  booke  of  Architecture,  made  by 
S.  Serly  \_Sebastiano  Serlio"],  .  .  .  translated  out  of  Italian  into 
Dutch,  and  out  of  Dutch  into  JSnglish.  5  pts. 

S.  Stafford :  London.     1611.     Folio.     British  Museum. 

Translated  from  II  Libro  primo  ( — quinto)  d} Architettura. 
5pt. 

Venetia.     1551.     Folio.    British  Museum. 

Sebastiano  Serlio,  called  sometimes  Bastiano  da  Bologna, 
or  Sebastiano  Bolognese  was  a  painter,  an  engraver,  and  an 
architect.  Francis  I.  invited  him  to  France  in  1 541  to  make 
some  designs  for  the  Louvre,  and  then  employed  him  as 
architect  of  the  royal  chateau  at  Fontainebleau.  The  first  six 
books  of  his  Regole  generali  d'architettura  came  out  between 
1537  and  1551 ;  the  seventh  book  was  published  at  Frankfort 
in  1575.  It  was  translated  into  Latin  and  French  besides 
Dutch  and  English. 

1618.  Opiologia,  or  a  Treatise  concerning  the  nature,  proper- 
ties, true  preparation,  and  safe  use  and  administration  of  Opium. 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS   FROM   THE   ITALIAN.       119 

By  Angelus  Sala  Vincentenes  Venatis,  and  done  into  English  and 
something  enlarged  by  Tho.  Bretnor,  M.  M. 

N.  Okes  :  London.    1618.    8vo.    British  Museum. 

This  translation,  which  is  made  from  the  French,  is  dedi- 
cated "  to  the  learned  and  my  worthily  respected  friends  D. 
Bonham  and  Maister  Nicholas  Carter,  physitians." 

In  an  address  to  the  reader  Bretnor  defends  the  use  of 
laudanum  in  medicine,  promises  to  prepare  for  his  readers, 
"  the  chiefest  physicke  I  use  my  selfe,"  and  mentions  as  good 
druggists  his  friends  '  Herbert  Whitfield  in  Newgate  Market ' 
and  (  Maister  Bromhall.' 

Thomas  Bretnor  was  a  notorious  character  in  London ;  he 
is  mentioned  in  three  plays  of  the  time. 

By  Ben  Jonson,  in  The  Devil  is  an  Ass.  1616.    i.  2. 

By  Middleton,  in  The  Fair  Quarrel.  1617.  v.  i  (as  the 
Almanac-maker). 

By  Fletcher,  in  The  Bloody  Brother,  or  Eollo  Duke  of 
Normandy,  1640,  where  he  is  Norbret. 

1622.  The  Italian  Propheder.    That  is,  a  prognostication 
made  for  the  yeere  ....   1622.    Practised  by  A.  Magino 
[  Giovanni  Antonio  Magini~\  ....  translated,  out  of  Italian 
into  Dutch,  and  now  into  English. 

[       ?       .]    1622.    4to.    British  Museum. 

1623.  A  Revelation  of  the  secret  spirit.     Declaring  the  most 
concealed  secret  of  Alchymie.     Written  first  in  Latine  by  an 
unknowne  author,  but  explained  in  Italian,  by  John  Baptista 
Lambye  [Giovanni  Battista  Lambi],  Venetian.    Lately  trans- 
lated into  English,  by  JR.  N.  E.  Gentleman  [Robert  Napier, 
Esq.  ?  or  "  of  Edinburgh  f  "]. 

John  Haviland  for  Henrie  Skelton.  London.  1623.  16mo. 
Pp.  80.  British  Museum. 

1624.  A   Strange  and   Wonderfull  Prognostication:    or 
rather,  Prenomination  of  those  Accidents  which  shall,  or  at 


120  MARY  AUGUSTA   SCOTT. 

least  are  likely  to  happen,  as  may  be  conjectured  by  the  heavenly 
Influences.  .  .  .  Now  faithfully  translated  into  English  [out  of 
the  Italian  of  Giovanni  Antonio  Magini\. 

Printed  for  N.  Butter.  London.  1624.  4to.  British 
Museum. 

1634.  Hygiasticon :  or,  the  right  course  of  preserving  Life 
and  Health  unto  extream  old  Age.  .  .  .  Written  in  Latin  by 
L.  [eonardus]  Lessius  and  now  done  into  English  [by  T.  &] 
(Luigi  Cornaro's  Treatise  of  Temperance  and  Sobrietie,  trans- 
lated by  Master  George  Herbert. — A  Discourse  translated  out 
of  Italian,  That  a  spare  diet  is  better  than  a  Splendid  and 
Sumptuous.)  The  second  edition.  2  pts. 

Printed  by  the  Printers  to  the  Universitie  of  Cambridge. 
1634.  12mo.  British  Museum. 

This  is  a  translation  of  Leonard  Lessius's, 

Hygiasticon  seu  vera  ratio  valetudinis  bonae  et  vitae,  una 
cum  sensuum  judicii  et  memoriae  integritate  ad  extremam  senec- 
tutem  coservandae. 

Antverpiae.    1613.    8vo.    British  Museum. 

Editio  secunda  ....  subjungitur  Tractatus  L.  Cornari  de 
vitae  sobriae  [Trattato  de  la  vita  sobria]  ....  eodem  pertinens 
.  .  .  .  ab  ipso  Lessio  Translatus. 

Antverpiae.    1614.    8vo.    British  Museum,  2  copies. 

The  Dictionary  of  National  Biography  says  that  George 
Herbert  contributed,  in  prose,  to  his  friend  Nicholas  Ferrar's 
English  translation  of  Lessius's  Hygiasticon^  a  translation 
from  the  Latin  of  Cornaro's  discourse,  entitled,  A  Treatise  of 
Temperance  and  Sotoietie,  and  made  at  the  request  "  of  a 
noble  personage."  This  was  first  published  at  the  Cambridge 
University  Press  in  1634.  Whether  "T.  S."  is  Nicholas 
Ferrar,  or  not,  I  do  not  know. 

Luigi  Cornaro,  1467-1566,  was  of  a  noble  Venetian  family. 
Delicate  by  constitution,  at  the  age  of  forty  he  found  his 
health  much  impaired  by  his  indulgences  and  determined  to 
change  his  whole  manner  of  life.  He  restricted  himself  to 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS   FROM   THE    ITALIAN.       121 

twelve  ounces  of  solid  food  and  fourteen  ounces  of  wine  a 
day,  and  endeavored  to  cultivate  a  gay  and  amiable  disposi- 
tion, he  was  said  to  have  been  naturally  sober  and  morose. 
His  health  was  completely  restored,  and  he  died  at  the  age  of 
ninety-nine.  Between  the  ages  of  eighty  and  ninety-five,  he 
published  in  four  parts,  his 

Discorsi  della  vita  sobria,  ne'  quali  con  Vesempio  di  se  stesso, 
dimostra  con  quali  mezzi  possa  Vuomo  conservarsi  sano  fino  aW 
ultima  vecchiezza. 

Padua.  1558.  8vo.  (Three  parts  only).  Venice.  1599. 
8vo.  and  1620.  8vo.  (complete).  Venice.  1666.  8vo.,  done 
in  Italian  verse. 

Besides  the  Latin  of  Leonard  Lessius,  the  work  was 
translated  into  most  of  the  European  languages,  and  was 
repeatedly  reprinted.  An  English  edition  in  the  British 
Museum  is  described  in  the  book-lists  as  the  '  fifty-fifth.7 

1638.  A  Learned  Treatise  of  Globes,  both  Coelestiall  and 
Terrestriall.  .  .  .  Written  first  in  Latine.  .  .  .  Afterward 
illustrated  with  notes,  by  J.  J.  Pontanus.  And  now  .  .  .  made 
English.  .  .  .  By  J.  [ohn~\  Chilmead,  etc. 

Printed  by  the  Assigne  of  T.  P.  for  P.  Stephens  and  C. 
Meredith,  London,  1638.  8vo.  British  Museum. 

From  the  Latin  of  Robertus  Hues, 

Tractatus  de  Globis  et  eorum  Usu,  accommodatus  iis  qui 
Londini  editi  sunt  anno  1593,  etc. 

In  aedibus  Thomae  Dawson,  Londini,  1594.  8vo.  British 
Museum. 

The  "  Learned  Treatise  of  Globes  is  usually  attributed  to 
Edmund  Chilmead  with  apparent  correctness."  Dictionary 
of  National  Biography. 

1658.  Natural  Magick;  wherein  are  set  forth  all  the  riches 
and  delights  of  the  Natural  Sciences  .  ...  in  twenty  bookes. 

T.  Young  and  S.  Speed  :  London.  1658.  4to.  Pp.  409. 
With  a  second  title-page  engraved.  British  Museum. 


122  MARY    AUGUSTA    SCOTT. 

A  translation  of  Giovanni  Battista  della  Porta's, 

Magiae  Naturalis,  sine  de  miraculis  rerum  naturalium  libri 

IIII.     Pp.  163. 

M.    Cancer:    JNeapoli.     1558.     Folio.     British    Museum. 

Frequently  reprinted.     The  British  Museum  contains  editions 

of  1561,  1564,  1589  (Neapoli,  libri  xx,  folio),  1607,  1619, 

1651,  and  1664. 

c.   GRAMMARS  AND  DICTIONARIES. 

1550.  Principal  Rules  of  the  Italian  Grammer,  with  a 
Dictionarie  for  the  better  understanding  of  Boccace,  Petrarca, 
and  Dante:  gathered  into  this  tongue  by  William  Thomas.  2 pts. 

Londini.  An.  M.D.L.  [Colophon.]  Imprinted  at  London 
in  Fletestrete,  in  the  House  of  Thomas  Berthelet.  Cum 
priuilegio  ad  imprimendum  solum.  Anno  dni.  1550.  4to. 
Black  letter.  Huth.  British  Museum.  Harvard.  1560. 
4to.  (Lowndes.)  1561.  4to.  (Watt  and  Chalmers.)  1562. 
4to.  Black  letter.  British  Museum.  1567.  4to.  Black 
letter.  British  Museum.  Harvard.  1724.  4to.  (Watt.) 

Dedicated,  "  from  Padoa  the  thirde  of  Februarie,  1548," 
to  Sir  Thomas  Chaloner,  the  scholarly  diplomatist,  who  was 
the  friend  of  Cheke,  Haddon,  and  other  learned  men  of  the 
time. 

This  is  the  first  Italian  grammar  and  dictionarie  printed  in 
England;  it  was  written  in  Italy,  and  the  Dictionarie  is 
described  as  "  taken  out  of  the  two  books  in  Italian,  called 
Acharisius  and  Ricchezze  della  lingua  vo(gare.}) 

Alberto  Accarigi  da  Cento,  fl.  1537-1562,  was  the  author 
of  two  word-books, — 

La  Grammatica  volgare  di  M.  A.  de  gV  Acharsi  da  Cento. 
Vinegia.  1537.  4to.  British  Museum,  and  Vocabolario,  gram- 
matica  et  orthographia  de  la  lingua  volgare  $  A.  Acharisio  ; 
con  ispositioni  di  molti  luoghi  di  Dante,  del  Petrarca,  et  del 
Boccaccio.  Cento.  1543.  4to.  British  Museum,  (2  copies). 

Francesco  Alunno  was  the  author  of,  Le  ricchezze  della 
lingua  volgare. 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS    FROM   THE    ITALIAN.       123 

Figliuoli  di  Aldo.    Venegia.    1 543.    Folio.  British  Museum. 

A  secoDd  word-book  of  Alunno's  may  also  have  been  sug- 
gestive to  Thomas;  it  is  entitled, 

La  fabrica  del  mondo,  nella  quale  si  contengono  tutte  le  voci 
di  Dante,  del  Petrarca,  del  Boccaccio  &  d'altri  buoni  autori, 
con  la  dichiaratione  di  quella,  &  con  le  sue  interpretationi 
Latine,  con  le  quali  si  ponno  scrivendo  isprimere  tutti  i  concetti 
dell'  huomo  di  qualunque  cosa  creata. 

Vinegia.  1548.  Folio  (colophon  dated  1546).  British 
Museum,  (also  four  later  editions). 

William  Thomas  was  a  native  of  Wales,  and  was  edu- 
cated at  Oxford.  In  1544,  "constrained  by  misfortune  to 
habandon  the  place  of  my  nativity,"  (beginning  of  The 
Pilgrim,)  he  went  to  Italy,  where  we  hear  of  him,  in  1546, 
at  Bologna,  and,  from  the  dedication  of  the  Principal  Rules, 
at  Padua,  in  1548. 

In  1549,  he  was  again  in  London,  and  on  account  of  his 
knowledge  of  modern  languages,  was  made  clerk  of  the 
Council  to  King  Edward  VI.  In  the  autumn  of  the  year 
1552,  Thomas  submitted  eighty-five  political  questions  for 
the  young  King's  consideration.  Edward  agreed  to  receive 
essays  from  him  from  time  to  time  on  stipulated  subjects,  and 
Thomas  submitted  papers  on  foreign  affairs,  on  a  proposal  to 
reform  the  debased  currency,  and  on  forms  of  government. 
The  paper  on  foreign  affairs  is  one  of  the  Cotton  MS8.  (  Ves- 
pasian D.  Bodleian?)  and  is  entitled, 

"  My  private  opinion  touching  your  Majesty's  outward 
affairs  at  this  present."  Strype  printed  it  in  his  Memorials, 
Vol.  iv,  p.  352. 

Subsequently  King  Edward  gave  Thomas  a  prebend  of  St. 
Paul's,  and  the  living  of  Presthend,  in  South  Wales,  appoint- 
ments which  Strype  goes  on  to  say  were  procured  unfairly, 
Thomas  not  being  a  spiritual  person. 

Upon  the  accession  of  Queen  Mary,  Thomas  joined  in  the 
rising  of  Sir  Thomas  Wyatt,  for  which  he  was  executed  for 
high  treason,  at  Tyburn,  May  18,  1554.  (Froude,  History  of 


124  MARY   AUGUSTA    SCOTT. 

England,  Vol.  vi,  Ch.  31,  and  Report  of  Deputy  Keeper  of  the 
Public  Records,  iv,  p.  248.) 

Besides  the  Principal  Rules,  William  Thomas  also  wrote 
The  Historie  of  Italie,  an  interesting  and  rare  book,  which 
came  to  four  editions  between  1549  and  1562,  in  spite  of  the 
fact  that  it  is  said  to  have  been  "suppressed  and  publicly 
burnt "  after  the  execution  of  the  author.  Anthony  £  Wood 
quotes  Bishop  Tanner  for  the  statement  that  Thomas  trans- 
lated from  the  Italian  two  works,  called,  The  Laws  of  Republics 
and  On  the  Roman  Pontiff's.  A  veritable  translation  of  his, 
written  for  the  use  of  King  Edward  VI.,  has  been  printed 
by  the  Hakluyt  Society,  1873 ;  it  is  an  account  of  the  two 
voyages  of  Giosafat  Barbaro  into  Tana  and  Persia. 

I  do  not  know  whether  The  Pilgrim  is  a  translation  or  an 
original  work.  The  title  of  the  only  English  edition  of  it 
that  I  know  of  reads, — 

The  Pilgrim :  a  Dialogue  on  the  Life  and  Actions  of  King 
Henry  Eighth:  Edited  [from  the  Harleian  MSS.  British 
Museum]  with  Notes  from  the  Archives  at  Paris  and  Brussels, 
by  J.  A.  Froude.  1861.  8vo.  British  Museum. 

The  Dialogue  is  dedicated,  "To  Mr.  Peter  Aretyne  the 
right  naturall  Poete;"  Anthony  &  Wood  says  it  was  written 
at  "Bologn  la  Grassa,"  and  further  that  it '"is  about  to  be 
translated  into  Lat.  with  a  design  to  be  remitted  in  the  third 
tome  of  Fasciculus,  collected  by  Edw.  Brown  of  Christ's 
College  in  Cambridge"  [1690].  He  quotes  a  letter  from 
Brown,  dated  August  15,  1690,  giving  this  account  of  The 
Pilgrim, — 

"  Mr.  Chiswell,  I  am  upon  printing  a  book  that  I  have  in 
my  library  of  which  I  find  the  lord  Herbert  and  my  lord 
bishop  of  Salisbury  that  now  is,  have  made  frequent  use  in 
their  histories,  and  which  deserves  to  be  better  known  than 
now  it  is.  The  title  is  this : 

" //  pelegrino  Inglese,  or  a  Discourse  that  passed  between  Sir 
William  Thomas,  an  English  gentlemen,  and  some  Italians  at 
Bologna,  a  hundred  and  forty  years  ago,  concerning  Henry 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS   FROM   THE   ITALIAN.       125 

the  eigth,  King  of  England,  and  the  affairs  of  those  times. 
Wherein  the  said  Sir  William  defends  the  innocent  and  sincere 
life  of  K.  Henry  the  eighth,  from  ye  lies  and  slanders  of  Pope 
Clement  ye  seaventh,  and  other  flatterers  of  the  seat  of  Antichrist. 
Translated  exactly  from  ye  old  Italian  copy  printed  in  ye  year 
M.D.LII.  By  E.  B.  Rector  of  Sundridge  in  Kent" 

It  is  more  than  likely  that  the  work  was  originally  written 
in  English,  and  that  Brown's  letter  records  an  early  Italian 
translation. 

See  Travels  to  Tana  and  Persia  by  Josafa  Barbara  and 
Ambrogio  Contarini.  1873. 

1568.  The  Enimie  of  Idlenesse:  Teaching  the  maner  and 
stile  howe  to  endite,  compose  and  write  all  sorts  of  Epistles  and 
Letters :  as  well  by  answer,  or  otherwise.  Set  forth  in  English 
by  William  Fulwood,  Marchant. 

London.  By  Henry  Bynneman  for  Leonard  Maylard. 
1568.  8vo.  Black  letter.  British  Museum.  Also,  1571. 
16mo.  (Lowndes.)  12mo.  (Warton) :  1578.  8vo.  British 
Museum:  1586.  8vo.  British  Museum:  1593.  8vo.  British 
Museum:  1598.  16mo.  (Lowndes):  1621.  8vo.  British 
Museum. 

Dedicated  to  the  "Master,  Wardens,  and  Company  of 
Marchant  Tayllors."  Fullwood  was  a  member  of  the  Mer- 
chant Taylors'  Company. 

The  Enimie  of  Idlenesse,  whose  seven  editions  prove  it  to 
have  been  a  very  popular  book,  consists  of  four  parts,  in  prose 
and  verse. 

Part  I,  with  much  original  matter,  contains  translations 
from  Cicero  and  the  ancients. 

Part  II  contains  translations  from  Politian,  Ficino,  Merula, 
Giovanni  Pico  della  Mirandola,  and  other  Italian  scholars. 

Angelo  Poliziano,  1454-1494,  carried  on  a  wide  correspond- 
ence with  the  distinguished  literary  men  of  his  time,  and  many 
of  the  letters  were  published  in  Illustrium  virorum  epistolae, 
ab  A.  Politiano  partim  scriptae, partim  collectae.  Paris.  1519, 
1523,1526.  4to.:  Lyons.  1539.  8vo. :  Basle.  1542.  8vo. 


126  MARY    AUGUSTA   SCOTT. 

Marsilio  Ficino,  1433—1499,  wrote  Epistolarum  libri  duo- 
decim.  Venice.  1495.  Folio. 

Giorgio  Merula,  1424  (?)-!  494,  wrote  In  Philadelphum 
Epistolae  duae.  Venice.  1480.  4to. 

Giovanni  Pico  della  Mirandola,  1463-1494,  left  some 
letters  which  were  published  after  his  death,  under  the  title 
Aureae  ad  familiares  epistolae.  Paris.  1499.  4to. 

Part  III.  contains  practical  and  personal  letters,  mostly 
original. 

Part  IV.  shows  'how  to  endite'  a  love-letter  by  giving 
examples  of  six  metrical  love-letters,  besides  some  prose  speci- 
mens. Subsequent  editions  contain  seven  metrical  letters, 
with  other  augmentations. 

Full  wood's  verse  is  spirited  and  vigorous. 

1575.  An  Italian  G rammer  Written  in  Latin  by  Scipio 
Lentulo  a  Neapolitaine  and  turned  in  Englishe  by  H.  G. 

Imprinted  at  London  by  Thomas  Vautroullier  dwelling 
in  the  Blacke  frieres.  1575.  Oct.  8vo.  Pp.  155.  British 
Museum,  (2  copies).  Bodleian.  1578.  8vo. 

1587.  La  Grammatica  di  M.  8.  Lentulo  .  ...  da  lui  in 
latina  lingua  Scritta,  &  hora  nella  Italiana  &  Inglese  tradotta 
da  H.  G.  An  Italian  Grammar  ....  turned  into  Englishe 
by  H.  Granthan.  MS.  Additions. 

T.  Vautrollier,  London,  1587.  8vo.  British  Museum. 
Bodleian. 

Dedicated  "to  the  right  vertuous  Mystres  Mary,  and 
Mystres  Francys  Berkeley  daughters  to  the  Right  honorable 
Henry  Lorde  Berkelye,"  to  whom  the  translator,  Henry 
Granthan,  was  tutor. 

Quaritch  records,  S.  Lentuli.  Italicae  Grammatices  Insti- 
tutio.  Venice.  1578.  Sm.  4to. 

1578.  Florio  his  first  Frutes;  which  yeelde  familiar  Speech, 
merie  Prouerbs,  wittie  Sentences,  and  golden  Sayings.  Also  a 
perfect  Introduction  to  the  Italian  and  English  Tongues. 


ELIZABETHAN    TRANSLATIONS    FROM   THE   ITALIAN.       127 

London.  [T.  Dawson.  1578.]  4to.  British  Museum.  1591. 
4  to.  (Lo wndes.) 

Dedicated  to  Robert  Dudley,  Earl  of  Leicester. 

Florio's  First  Frutes  consist  mainly  of  simple  dialogues  in 
Italian  and  English. 

1578.  A  comfortable  ayde  for  Schollers,  full  of  variety  of 
sentences,  gathered  out  of  [the  work  of~\  an  Italian  authour, 
(intituled  in  that  tongue,  Speechio  de  la  lingua  Latina,)  by  D. 
Rowland. 

T.  Marshe.    London.     1578.    8vo.    British  Museum. 

D.  Rowland  is  David  Rowland  of  Anglesey,  who  subse- 
quently translated  from  the  Spanish  the  first  part  of  La  Vida 
de  Lazarillo  de  Tonnes,  by  Don  Diego  Hurtado  de  Mendoza. 
(1554.  8vo.  British  Museum.)  This  novel,  the  forerunner 
of  Mateo  Aleman's  Guzman  de  Alfarache,  Le  Sage's  Gil  Bias, 
and  numerous  other  imitations  in  the  gusto  picaresco,  became 
extremely  popular  and  was  frequently  translated  into  various 
languages.  Tickuor,  (History  of  Spanish  Literature,  1872, 
vol.  i,  p.  552,  Note,)  states  that  above  twenty  editions  of 
Rowland's  English  translation,  The  Pleasant  History  of  Laza- 
rillo de  Tormes,  (1586.  Sm.  8vo.  1596.  4to.  British  Museum) 
are  known. 

A  lively  account  of  Lazarillo  will  be  found  in  the  Retro- 
spective Review,  vol.  ii,  p.  133. 

1583.  Campo  di  Fior,  or  else  The  Flourie  Field  of  Foore 
Languages  of  M.  Claudius  Desainliens,  alias  Holiband :  For 
the  furtherance  of  the  learners  of  the  Latine,  French,  English, 
but  chieftie  of  the  Italian  Tongue.  Dum  spiro,  spero. 

Imprinted  at  London  by  Thomas  Vautroullier  dwelling  in 
the  Blacke-Friers  by  Lud-gate.  1583.  Small  8vo.  Huth. 
(16  mo.)  British  Museum. 

Dedicated  to  Mistress  Luce  Harington,  daughter  of  John 
Harington,  Esq. 


128  MARY   AUGUSTA   SCOTT. 

1591.  Florios  Second  Frutes  to  be  gathered  of  twelve  Trees 
of  diners  but  delightsome  tastes  to  the  tongues  of  Italian  and 
English  men.  To  which  is  annexed  his  Gardine  of  Recreation, 
yeelding  six  thousand  Italian  proverbs.  ItaL  and  Eng. 

Printed  for  T.  Woodcock.  London.  1591.  4to.  British 
Museum. 

Dedicated  to  Nicholas  Saunders  of  Ewell. 

The  Second  Frutes  is  a  collection  of  Italian  and  English 
dialogues,  with  a  reprint  of  Florio's  Giardino  di  Ricreatione. 

There  is  an  Italian  proverb  in  Love's  Labours  Lost,  iv.  2, 
which  Shakspere  may  have  taken  from  Florio,  where  it  is 
given, 

Venetia,  chi  non  ti  vede,  non  tipretia; 
Ma  chi  ti  vede,  ben  gli  costa. 

Shakspere  puts  it, 

Venegia,  Venegia, 
Chi  non  te  vede,  ei  non  te  pregia. 

The  proverb  occurs  in  Ho  well's  Letters,  with  a  third 
variation, 

Venetia,  Venetia,  chi  non  te  vede,  non  te  pregia, 
Ma  chi  t'ha  troppo  veduto  te  dispregia. 

See  The  Familiar  Letters  of  James  Howell.  Edited,  Anno- 
tated, and  Indexed,  by  Joseph  Jacobs. 

London.  David  Nutt,  1892,  the  letter  "  To  Robert  Brown, 
Esq.,  at  the  Middle-Temple.  From  Venice,  12  Aug.,  1621 ." 

One  of  Pistol's  string  of  proverbs,  in  Henry  V.,  ii.  2, 
"  Pitch  and  pay,"  is  also  in  Florio's  collection  ;  there  it  is, 
"  Pitch  and  pay,  and  go  your  way." 

Compare  II.  Poetry,  Plays,  and  Metrical  Romances.  Tur- 
berville's  Eglogs  of  the  Poet  B.  Mantuan.  1567. 

1597.  The  Italian  Schoole-maister :  Contayning  Rules  for 
the  perfect  pronouncing  of  tti  italian  tongue :  With  familiar 
speeches: . .  .  And  certaine  Phrases  taken  out  of  the  best  Italian 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS   FROM   THE   ITALIAN.        129 

Authors.  And  a  fine  Tuscan  historic  called  Arnalt  &  Lucenda. 
A  verie  easie  way  to  learne  th'  Italian  tongue.  Set  forth  by 
Clau.  Holliband,  Gentl.  of  Bourbonnois. 

At  London,  Printed  by  Thomas  Purfoot.  1597.  Sm.  8vo. 
Huth.  British  Museum. 

Dedicated,  "  To  the  most  vertuous  and  well  giuen  Gentleman 
Maister  Jhon  Smith." 

1608.  The  Italian  Schoole-maister.  Revised  and  corrected 
by  F.  P.  an  Italian,  professor  and  teacher  of  the  Italian 
tongue. 

At  London,  Printed  by  Thomas  Purfoot.  1608.  8vo. 
British  Museum.  Lowndes  gives  also  1583,  16mo.,  and  1591, 
16mo. 

The  editions  of  1597  and  1608  contain  Arnalte  and  Lucenda. 
Compare  I.  Romances,  Holliband's,  The  pretie  and  wittie  His- 
torie  of  Arnalte  and  Lucenda,  1575,  and  II.  Poetry,  Plays,  and 
Metrical  Romances,  Leonard  Lawrence's  poem,  A  small  Treatise 
betwixt  Arnalte  and  Lucenda,  1639. 

1598.  A  Worlde  of  Wordes,  or  Most  copious,  and  exact 
Dictionarie  in  Italian  and  English,  collected  by  lohn  Florio. 

Printed  at  London,  by  Arnold  Hatfield  for  Edw.  Blount. 
1598.  4to.  British  Museum  (2  copies). 

Dedicated,  "To  the  Right  Honorable  Patrons  of  Ver- 
tue,  Patterns  of  Honor,  Roger  Earle  of  Rutland,  Henrie 
[Wriothesley]  Earle  of  Southampton,  Lucie  Countesse  of 
Bedford. 

It  is  in  this  dedication  that  Florio  calls  himself,  "  Resolute 
John  Florio." 

1611.  Qveen  Anna's  New  World  of  words,  or  Dictionarie 
of  the  Italian  and  English  tongues,  Collected,  and  newly  much 
augmented  by  lohn  Florio,  Reader  of  the  Italian  vnto  the 
Soueraigne  Maiestie  of  Anna,  Crowned  Queene  of  England, 
Scotland,  France  and  Ireland,  &c.  And  one  of  the  Gentlemen 
of  hir  Royall  Prime  Chamber.  Whereunto  are  added  certaine 
necessarie  rules  and  short  obseruations  for  the  Italian  tongue. 
9 


130  MARY   AUGUSTA   SCOTT. 

London,  Printed  by  Melch.  Bradwood  for  Edw.  Blount 
and  William  Barret.  Anno  1611.  Folio.  With  a  portrait 
of  Florio,  engraved  by  W.  Hole.  British  Museum  (2  copies). 

An  appendix  of  seventy-three  pages,  with  a  separate  title- 
page,  gives, 

"  Necessary  Rules  and  short  observations  for  the  True  Pro- 
nouncing and  Speedie  Learning  of  the  Italian,  collected  for 
Queen  Anne." 

Dedicated  to  Queen  Anne,  in  Italian  and  in  English, — 

All'  ECCELSA  ET  GLORIOSISSIMA  Maesta  di  Anna,  Serenis- 
sima  Eegina  d'Inghilterra,  di  Scdtia,  di  Francia,  &  d'Irldnda  : 
Giovanni  Florio,  suo  hum.me  seruitore  brama,  &  augura  il  cdlmo 
&  godimento  d'dgni  vera  &  compita  felicitd.  In  sti  I'altdre  d£lla 
tua  Eccelsa  &  Seren.ma  MAESTA  (al  quale  6gni  ndstro  gindcchio 
douerebbe  inchindrsi),  che  le  tue  innate  &  Redli  virtil  (Glorio- 
sissima  REGINA]  s'hdnno  er&to  nM  sdcro  Tempio  d'Honore  (ch£ 
6gni  cdure  conuerebbe  adordre  senza  idolatria).  lo  con  6gni 
humilta  &  riuerenza  dedico  &  consdcro  questo  humile  v6to,  &  cdn 
le  gindcchia  delta  mtnte  inchine  ALL  A  TV  A  GRANDEZZA  DALL' 
ECCELSO,  bdscio  le  Realissime  mani,  volendo  viuere  &  morire. 
Di  tua  Gloriosissima  &  sublime  Maesta  hum.me  ossequenmo  & 
inuiolabile  suddito  &  seruitdre  Giovanni  Florio. 

To  the  IMPERIALS  MAIESTIE  of  the  Highest-borne  Princes, 
Anna  of  Denmarke,  by  God's  permission,  Crowned  Qveene 
of  England,  Scotland,  France  &  Ireland,  &c.  Hir  humblest 
seruant  I.  F.  wisheth  all  the  true  felicities,  that  this  world 
may  affoord,  and  the  fullest  fruition  of  the  blessednesse  that 
heauen  can  yeeld.  This  braine-babe  (6  pardon  me  that  title 
most  absolute  supreme  Minerua)  brought  with  it  into  the 
world,  now  thirteen  yeers  since,  a  world  of  words:  Since, 
following  the  fathers  steps  in  all  obseruant  seruice  of  your 
most  sacred  Maiestie,  yet  with  a  trauellers  minde,  as  erst 
Colombus  at  command  of  glorious  Isabella,  it  hath  (at  home) 
discouered  neere  halfe  a  new  world  :  and  therefore  as  of  olde 
some  called  Scotia  of  Scota,  and  others  lately  Virginia,  of 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS   FROM   THE    ITALIAN.       131 

Queenes  your  Maiesties  predecessors  :  so  pardon  again  (6 
most  Gracious  and  Glorious)  if  it  dare  be  entitled  Qveen 
Anna's  New  world  of  words,  as  vnder  your  protection  and 
patronage  sent  and  set  foorth.  It  shall  be  my  guard  against 
the  worst,  if  not  grace  with  the  best,  if  men  may  see  I  beare 
Miiierua  in  my  front,  or  as  the  Hart  on  my  necke,  I  am 
Diana's,  so  with  heart  I  may  say,  This  is  Qveen  Anna's,  as 
the  Author  is,  and  shall  euer  be  Your  Soueraigne  Maiesties 
inuiolably-devoted  subiect  and  most  obliged  seruant  lohn 
Florio. 

Florio  was  appointed  reader  in  Italian  to  Queen  Anne,  1603. 

1659.  Vocabolario  Italiano  &  Inglese,  A  Dictionary  Italian 
&  English.  Formerly  Compiled  by  John  Florio,  and  since  his 
last  Edition,  Anno  1611,  augmented  by  himselfe  in  His  life 
time,  with  many  thousand  Words,  and  Thuscan  Phrases.  Now 
most  diligently  Revised,  Corrected,  and  Compared,  with  La 
Crusca,  and  other  approved  Dictionaries  extant  since  his  Death; 
and  enriched  with  very  considerable  Additions.  Whereunto  is 
added  A  Dictionary  English  &  Italian,  with  severall  Proverbs 
and  Instructions  for  the  speedy  attaining  to  the  Italian  Tongue. 
Never  before  Published.  By  Gio  :  Torriano  An  Italian,  and 
Professor  of  the  Italian  Tongue  in  London. 

London,  Printed  by  T.  Warren  for  Jo.  Martin,  Ja.  Allestry, 
and  Tho.  Dicas,  and  are  to  be  sold  at  the  Signe  of  the  Bell  in 
S.  Pauls  Church- Yard,  MDCLIX.  Folio.  British  Museum. 

Dedicated  by  the  author,  " Alt'  III™.  Sigr.  Andrea  Riccard, 
Gouernatore  delV  Honoratissima  Compagnia,  de'  Signori  Nego- 
tianti  di  Turchia  in  Londra,  et  al  Multo  III™.  8igr.  Gulielmo 
Williams  Sotto-governatore  &  a'  molto  III™.  Big™.  Assistenti  di 
delta  Compagnia" 

Dedicated  by  the  publishers,  John  Martin,  James  Allestry, 
and  Thomas  Dicas,  "  To  Their  most  Honoured  Friend,  Mr. 
James  Stanier,  Merchant  in  London,"  (a  member  of  the  Com- 
pany of  Turkey  Merchants). 

Torriano's  English  and  Italian  dictionary  has  a  separate 
title-page,— 


132  MARY   AUGUSTA   SCOTT. 

Vocabolario  Inglese  &  Italiano :  A  Dictionary  English  and 
Italian :  Compiled  for  the  use  of  both  Nations.  As  also  a  brief 
Introduction  Unto  the  Italian  Tongue:  and  severall  Italian 
Proverbs,  With  the  English  Interpretation  to  them.  Never  before 
Published.  By  Gio:  Torriano,  An  Italian;  and  Professor  of 
the  Italian  longue  in  London. 

London.  Printed  by  J.  Roycroft  for  Jo :  Martin,  Ja :  Alles- 
trye,  and  Tho :  Dicas,  and  are  to  be  sold  at  the  signe  of  the 
Bell  in  S.  Pauls  Church-Yard.  1659. 

Dedicated  by  the  author,  in  Italian,  "AW  III™.  Sigr.  Carlo 
Fra°°  Guadagni  Nobile  Fiorentino;"  and  in  English,  "To  all 
who  desire  to  learn  the  Italian  Tongue." 

[Another  edition.]  Reprinted,  revised,  and  corrected  by 
J.  D.  [avis]  M.  D.  London.  1688-7.  Folio.  British  Museum. 
1690.  Folio.  (Allibone.) 

The  English-Italian  Dictionary  has  a  distinct  title-page 
and  pagination,  and  is  marked  <  second  edition/ 

Dedicated  to  Maria  d'Este,  Queen  of  England. 

Florio  on  the  usefulness  of  his  Dictionarie  in  the  explanation 

of  Italian  writers. 

Yet  heere-hence  may  some  good  accrewe,  not  onelie  to 
truantlie-schollers,  which  euer-and-anon  runne  to  Venuti,  and 
Alunno;  or  to  new-entred  nouices,  that  hardly  can  construe 
their  lesson ;  or  to  well-forwarde  students,  that  haue  turnd 
ouer  Guazzo  and  Castiglione,  yea  runne  through  Guarini, 
Ariosto,  Tasso,  Boccace,  and  Petrarche :  but  euen  to  the  most 
compleate  Doctor ;  yea  to  him  that  best  can  stande  AlVerta  for 
the  best  Italian,  heereof  sometimes  may  rise  some  vse :  since, 
haue  he  the  memorie  of  Themistocles,  of  Seneca,  of  Scaliger, 
yet  is  it  not  infinite,  in  so  finite  a  body.  And  I  haue  scene 
the  best,  yea  naturall  Italians,  not  onely  stagger,  but  euen 
sticke  fast  in  the  myre,  and  at  last  giue  it  ouer,  or  giue  their 
verdict  with  An  ignoramus.  Boccace  is  prettie  hard,  yet 
vnderstood  :  Petrarche  harder,  but  explaned  :  Dante  hardest, 
but  commented.  Some  doubt  if  all  aright.  Alunno  for  his 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS   FROM   THE   ITALIAN.       133 

foster-children  hath  framed  a  worlde  of  their  wordes.  Venuti 
taken  much  paines  in  some  verie  fewe  authors ;  and  our  William 
Thomas  hath  done  prettilie ;  and  if  all  faile,  although  we  misse 
or  mistake  the  worde,  yet  make  we  vp  the  sence.  Such  making 
is  marring.  Naie  all  as  good ;  but  not  as  right.  And  not 
right,  is  flat  wrong.  One  saies  of  Petrarche  for  all :  A 
thousand  strappadas  coulde  not  compell  him  to  confesse  what 
some  interpreters  will  make  him  saie  he  ment.  And  a 
Judicious  gentleman  of  this  lande  will  vphold,  that  none 
in  England  vnderstands  him  thoroughly. 

1598,  Florio,  A  Worlde  of  Wordes,  Epistle  dedicatorie,  p. 
[4-5.] 

1612.  The  Passenger:  of  Benvenulo  Italian,  Professour  of 
his  Natiue  Tongue,  for  these  nine  yeeres  in  London.  Diuided 
into  two  Parts,  containing  seauen  exquisite  Dialogues  in  Italian 
and  English :  The  Contents  whereof  you  shall  finde  in  the  end 
of  the  Booke.  .  .  . 

London  :  Printed  by  T.  S.  for  John  Stepneth,  and  are  to 
be  solde  at  his  Shop  at  the  West-end  of  Paules  Church. 
1612.  4to.  Huih. 

Dedicated  to  Prince  Henry. 

The  British  Museum  title  runs, — 

II  Passaggiere  di  Benvenuto  Italiano  ....  diviso  in  due 
parti,  che  contengano  [sic]  sette  esquisiti  Dialoghi,  etc.  2  pts. 
Ital.  and  Eng. 

Stampato  da  T.  S.,  por  R.  Redmer,  Londra,  1612.  4to. 
Pp.  611.  British  Museum,  (3  copies). 

The  Passenger  contains  numerous  quotations  from  the  chief 
Italian  poets,  translated  without  rhyme,  but  rhythmically, 
apparently  by  Benvenuto  himself. 

Benvenuto  is  also  the  author  of  a  vehement  attack  upon 
the  temporal  power  of  the  papacy,  published,  in  London,  in 
Italian,  in  1617. 

See  Scala  Politica  dell}  Abominatione  e  Tirannia  Papale. 
1617. 


134  MARY   AUGUSTA   SCOTT. 


1617.  'HTEMftN    EIS    TAS 

id  est, 

Ductor  in  Linguas, 
The  Guide  into  Tongues. 

Cum  illarum  harmonia,  &  Etymologiis,  Originationibus, 
Rationibus,  &  Deriuationibus,  in  omnibus  his  undecim  Lin- 
guis,  viz: 

1.  Anglica.  7.  Hispanica. 

2.  Cambro-Britanica.  8.  Lusitanica  seu  Portugallica. 

3.  Belgica.  6.  Italica.      9.  Latina. 

4.  Germanica.  10.   Graeca. 

5.  Gallica.  11.  Hebrea,  &c. 

Quae  etiam  ita  or  dine,  &  sono  consentientes,  collocatae  sunt, 
ut  facilime  &  nullo  labor  'e,  unusquisq;  non  solum,  Quatuor, 
Quinque,  vel  plures  illarum,  quam  optime  memoria  tenere, 
verum  etiam  (per  earum  Etymologias)  sub  Nomine,  Naturam, 
Proprietatem,  Conditionem,  Effectum,  Materiam,  Formam,  vel 
finem  rerum,  rectd  nosse  que  at;  Diserepans  ab  aliis  Dic- 
tionariis  unquam  antehac  editis. 

Item  explicatio  vocabulorum  forensium  Juris  Anglicani,  & 
Descriptio  Magistratuum  &  Titulorum  dignitatum,  hac  nota 
H&j^  per  totum  Opus  insignita. 

Opus  omnibus  humanioris  literaturae  amatoribus  vald& 
necessarium  &  delectabile,  imprimis  Nostratibus  qui  nullo 
negotio  ex  Anglicana,  caeteras  linguas  cum  earum  Etymologiis, 
ordine  Alphabetico,  invenire  possunt,  denig3  [denique~\  Extra- 
neis,  si  ex  his  congestis,  Alphabetum  unius  vel  plurium 
aliarum  linguarum,  sibi  cum  numeris  Arithmetieis  concinnare 
voluerunt. 

Opera,  Studio,  Industria,  Lahore  &  Sumptibus  Johannis 
Minshaei  in  lucem  editum  &  impressum.  Anno  1617. 

The  Guide  into  the  tongues. 

With  their  agreement  and  consent  one  with  another,  as  also 
their  Etymologies,  that  is,  the  Reasons  and  Deriuations  of  all 
or  the  most  part  of  wordes,  in  these  eleuen  Languages,  viz  : 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS   FROM   THE   ITALIAN.       135 

1.  English.  7.  Spanish. 

2.  British  or  Welsh.  8.  Portuguez. 

3.  Low  Dutch.  6.  Italian.  9.  Latine. 

4.  High  Dutch.  10.   Greeke. 

5.  French.  11.  Hebrew ,  etc. 
Which  are  so  laid  together  (for  the  help  of  memory)  that  any 

one  with  ease  and  facilitie,  may  not  only  remember  J^.5.  or  more 
of  these  Languages  so  laid  together,  but  also  by  their  Etymologies 
under  the  Name  know  the  Nature,  Propertie,  Condition,  Effect, 
Matter,  Forme,  Fashion  or  End  of  things  there-under  contayned, 
differing  from  all  other  Dictionaries  euer  heretofore  set  forth. 

Also  the  Exposition  of  the  Termes  of  the  Lawes  of  this  Land, 
drawne  from  their  originall  the  Saxon  and  Norman  tongues, 
with  the  description  of  the  Magistracies,  Offices,  and  Officers, 
and  Titles  of  Dignities,  noted  with  this  hand  ^^^  throughout 
the  whole  Booke. 

A  worke  for  all  Louers  of  any  kinde  of  Learning,  most 
pleasant  and  profitable,  especially  for  those  of  our  owne  Nation, 
when  by  order  of  the  English  Alphabet,  they  may  find  out  10 
other  Tongues,  with  their  Etymologies,  most  helpfull  to  Memory, 
to  Speake  or  Write,  then  to  Strangers,  if  they  will  draw  out  of 
these  one  or  more  Languages,  and  place  them  in  order  of  Alpha- 
bet and  Table,  and  referre  them  by  figures  into  this  Booke,  as 
they  shall  best  like  of. 

By  the  Industrie,  Studie,  Labour,  and  at  the  charges  of  John 
Minshue  Published  and  Printed.  Anno  1617.  Folio.  British 
Museum  (5  copies). 

Cum  Gratia  &  Priuilegio  Regiae  Maiestatis,  &  vendibiles 
extant  Londini,  apud  Johannem  Browne  Bibliopolam  in  vico 
vocato  little  Brittaine. 

And  are  to  be  sold  at  John  Brownes  shop  a  Bookeseller  in 
little  Brittaine  in  London. 

Dedicated  to  King  James  I.,  as  follows, — 

Potentissimo  clementissimo  que,  necnon  omni  scientiarum 
divinarum  et  humanarum  eruditione  instructissimo,  Jacobo 


136  MARY   AUGUSTA   SCOTT. 

Magnae  Britanniae  Monarchae,  Franciae,  &  Hiberniae  Regi, 
ac  Fidei  Defensori,  &c. 

Minshaei 

Emendatio,  vel  d,  mendis  Expurgatio,  sen  Augmentatio  sui 
Ductoris  in  Linguas, 

The  Guide  into  Tongues. 

Cum  illarum  Harmonia,  &  Etymologijs,  Originationibus, 
Rationibus,  &  Deriuationibus  in  omnibus  his  novem  Linguis, 
viz: 

1.  Anglica.  4.   Gallica.  7.  Latina. 

2.  Belgica.  5.  Italica.  8.   Graeca. 

3.  Germanica.  6.  Hispanica.  9.  Hebraea,  etc. 
Quae  etiam  ita  ordine  &  sono  consentientes,  collocatae  sunt, 

ut  facillime  &  nullo  labore,  unusquisque  non  solum,  Quatuor, 
Quinque,  vel  plures  illarum,  quam  optime  memoria  tenere,  verum 
etiam  (per  earum  Etymologias)  sub  Nomine,  Naturam,  Pro- 
prietatem,  Conditionem,  Effectum,  Mater iam,  Formam,  velfinem 
rerum,  rede  nosse  queat;  Discrepans  ab  aliis  Didionariis 
unquam  antehac  editis. 

Item  explicatio  vocabulorum  forensium  Juris  Anglicani,  & 
Descriptio  Magistratuum,  &  Titulorum  dignitatum,  hac  nota 
fjgjT'  per  totum  Opus  insignita. 

Item  adijduntur  Etymologiae  saerae  Scripturae,  Adam,  Euae, 
Cain,  Abel,  Seth,  &c.  Cum  Etymologijs  Regionum,  Urbium, 
Oppidorum,  Montium,  Fontium,  Fluuiorum,  Promontoriorum, 
Portuum,  Sinuum,  Insularum,  Marium,  Virorum,  Mulierum, 
Deorum,  Stagnorum,  Syluarum,  Solitudinum,  Populorum,  Vico- 
rum,  Speluncarum,  ac  aliarum  rerum  notatu  dignarum  quae 
insigniuntur  hac  nota  per  totum  Opus  (•(-). 

Opus  omnibus  humanioris  literaturae  amatoribus  valde  neces- 
sarium  &  delectabile,  imprimis  nostratibus,  qui  nullo  negotio 
ex  Anglicana,  caeteras  linguas  cum  earum  Etymologijs,  ordine 
Alphabetico,  inuenire  possunt ;  denique  Extraneis,  si  ex  his  con- 
gestis,  Alphabetum  unius  vel  plurium  aliarum  linguarum,  sibi 
cum  numeris  Arithmeticis  concinnare  voluerunt. 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS   FROM   THE   ITALIAN.       137 

Opera,  Studio,  Industrie*,  Labore  &  Sumptibus  Johannis 
Minshaei  in  lucem  editum  &  impressum,  22°  Julij,  Anno  1625. 

Secunda  Editio. 
The  Guide  into  the  Tongues. 

With  their  agreement  and  consent  one  with  another,  as  also 
their  Etymologies,  that  is,  the  Reasons  and  Deriuations  of  all 
or  the  most  part  of  words,  in  these  nine  Languages,  viz. 

1.  English.  4.  French.  7.  Latine. 

2.  Low  Dutch.  5.  Italian.  8.   Greeke. 

3.  High  Dutch.  6.  Spanish.  9.  Hebrew,  etc. 

Which  are  so  laid  together  (for  the  helpe  of  memorie)  that 
any  one  with  ease  and  facilitie,  may  not  only  remember,  foure, 
fiue,  or  more  of  these  Languages  so  laid  together,  but  also  by 
their  Etymologies  under  the  Name  know  the  Nature,  Propertie, 
Condition,  Effect,  Matter,  Forme,  Fashion,  or  End  of  things 
thereunder  contained,  differing  from  all  other  Dictionaries  euer 
heretofore  set  forth. 

Also  the  Exposition  of  the  Termes  of  the  Lawes  of  this  Land, 
drawne  from  their  originall  the  Saxon  and  Norman  Tongues, 
with  the  description  of  the  Magistracies,  Offices,  Officers,  and  Titles 
of  Dignities,  noted  with  this  Hgj^*  thorowout  the  whole  Booke. 

Item,  There  are  added  the  Etymologies  of  proper  names 
of  the  Bible,  Adam,  Eue,  Cain,  Abel,  Seth,  &c.  with  the  Ety- 
mologies of  Countries,  Cities,  Townes,  Hilles,  Riuers,  Flouds, 
Promontories,  Ports,  Creekes,  Islands,  Seas,  Men,  Women, 
Gods,  People,  and  other  things  of  note,  which  are  marked  with 
this  marke  (•{•)  thorow  the  whole  Worke. 

By  the  Industrie,  Studie,  Labour,  and  at  the  Charges  of 
John  Minshue  Published  and  Printed.     22°  July,  Anno  1625. 
The  Second  Edition. 
London. 

Printed  by  John  Haviland,  and  are  by  him  to  be  sold  at  his 
House  in  the  little  Old-Baily  in  Eliots  Court.  M.DC.XXVII. 
British  Museum  (another  copy  in  the  British  Museum,  with  a 
different  title-page,  bears  the  date  1626.) 


138  MARY   AUGUSTA    SCOTT. 

Dedicated,  "  Reuerendissimo  Presuli,  necnon  Honoratissimo 
Domino,  loanni,  diuina  Prouidenlia,  Episcopo  Lincolniensi, 
&  Magni  Sigilli  totius  Angliae  Oustodi." 

In  a  time  of  long  titles,  the  longest  title  yet ! 

1640.  The  Italian  Tutor,  or  a  New  and  most  Compleat 
Italian  grammar  .  ...  to  which  is  annexed  A  display  of  the 
Monasillable  Particles  of  the  language,  by  way  of  alphabet. 
As  also  certaine  dialogues  made  up  of  Italianismes,  or  Niceties 
of  the  Language,  with  the  English  to  them.  2  pts. 

T.  Paine.  London.  1640.  4to.  British  Museum.  1673. 
8vo. 

By  Gio.  Torriano,  editor  of  the  third  edition  of  Florio's 
A  Worlde  of  Wordes.  1659.  The  Catalogue  of  Early  English 
Books  (to  1640)  prints  the  surname,  *  Sorriano/  which  is 
surely  an  error. 

1660.  Lexicon  Tetraglotton,  an  English- French- Italian- 
Spanish  Dictionary :  Whereunto  is  adjoined  A  large  Nomen- 
clature of  the  proper  Terms  (in  all  the  four)  belonging  to  the 
several  Arts  and  Sciences,  to  Recreations,  to  Professions  both 
Liberal  and  Mechanic^,  &c.  Diuided  into  Fiftie  two  Sections; 
With  another  Volume  of  the  Choicest  Proverbs  In  all  the  said 
Toungs,  (consisting  of  divers  compleat  Tomes)  and  the  English 
translated  into  the  other  Three,  to  take  of  the  reproch  which 
useth  to  be  cast  upon  Her,  That  She  is  but  barren  in  this  point, 
and  those  Proverbs  She  hath  are  but  flat  and  empty.  Moreover, 
there  are  sundry  familiar  Letters  and  Verses  running  all  in 
Proverbs,  with  a  particular  Tome  of  the  British  or  old  Cam- 
brian Sayed  Sawes  and  Adages  which  the  Author  thought  fit  to 
annex  hereunto,  and  make  Intelligible,  for  their  great  Antiquity 
and  Weight :  Lastly,  there  are  flue  Centuries  of  New  Sayings, 
which,  in  tract  of  Time,  may  serve  for  Proverbs  to  Posterity. 
By  the  Labours  and  Lucubrations  of  James  Howell,  Esq. ; 
Senesco,  non,  segnesco. 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS   FROM   THE   ITALIAN.       139 

London,  Printed  by  J.  G.  for  Samuel  Thomson  at  the 
Bishops  head  in  St.  Pauls  Church-yard.  1660.  Folio. 
British  Museum.  Peabody. 

Dedicated,  "To  his  Majesty  Charles  the  Second,  Third 
Monarch  of  Great  Britain,"  etc. 

The  Proverbs  were  published  separately  in  1659,  as  Pro- 
verbs or  old  Sayed  Saws  and  Adages  in  English  or  the  Saxon 
tongue,  Italian,  French,  and  Spanish:  W hereunto  the  British 
[i.  e,  Wels1i\  for  their  great  Antiquity  and  weight  are  added." 

Among  other  attractions  of  this  extraordinary  compilation 
are  three  introductory 

Poems  by  the  Author 

Touching  the  Association  of  the  English  Toung  with  the  French, 
Italian,  and  Spanish,  etc. 

I. 

France,  Italy  and  Spain,  ye  sisters  three, 

Whose  Toungs  are  branches  of  the  Latian  tree, 

To  perfect  your  odd  Number,  be  not  shy 

To  take  a  Fourth  to  your  society, 

That  high  Teutonick  Dialect  which  bold 

Hengistus  with  his  Saxons  brought  of  old 

Among  the  Brittains,  when  by  Knife  and  Sword 

He  first  of  England  did  create  the  word ; 

Nor  is't  a  small  advantage  to  admitt, 

So  Male  a  speech  to  mix  with  you,  and  knitt, 

Who  by  her  Consonants  and  tougher  strains 

Will  bring  more  Arteries  'mong  your  soft  veins, 

For  of  all  touugs  Dutch  hath  most  nerves  and  bones, 

Except  the  Pole,  who  hurles  his  words  like  stones. 

Some  feign  that  when  our  Protoplastick  sire 

Lost  Paradis  by  Heavens  provoked  ire, 

He  in  Italian  tempted  was,  in  French 

Fell  a  begging  pardon,  but  from  thence 

He  was  thrust  out  in  the  high  Teuton  Toung, 

Whence  English  (though  much  polished  since)  is  sprung. 


140  MARY   AUGUSTA  SCOTT. 

This  Book  is  then  an  inlaid  peece  of  art, 
English  the  knots  which  strengthen  every  part, 
Four  languages  are  here  together  fix'd, 
Our  Lemsters  Ore  with  Naples  silk  is  mix'd, 
The  Loire,  the  Po,  the  Thames,  and  Tagus  glide 
All  in  one  bed,  and  kisse  each  others  side, 
The  Alps  and  Pyrenean  mountains  meet, 
The  rose  and  flower-de-luce  hang  in  one  street : 
May  Spain  and  Red-capt  France  a  league  here  strike, 
If  'twixt  their  Kings  and  Crowns  there  were  the  like, 
Poore  Europe  should  not  bleed  so  fast,  and  call 
Turbands  at  last  unto  her  Funerall. 

1673.     The  Italian  reviv'd,  or  Introduction  to  the  Italian 
Tongue.    [By  Giovanni  TorrianoJ] 
London.   1673.   8vo.    (Lowndes.)    1689.   8vo.    (Allibone.) 

d.  PROVERBS. 

1581.  A  Brief e  Discourse  of  Roy  all  Monarchic,  as  the  best 
Common-  Weak.  .  .  .  Whereunto  is  added  by  the  same  [  Charles 
Merbury]  ....  a  Collection  of  Italian  Proverbes,  etc. 

T.  Vautrollier,  London,  1581.  4to.  British  Museum  (2 
copies). 

The  Proverbes  have  a  distinct  pagination  and  titlepage, 
which  reads, 

Proverbi  vulgari,  raccolti  in  diversi  luoghi  d' Italia,  etc. 

Prefixed  to  this  work  is  the  note,  "Approbation  of  Mr.  T. 
Norton,  counsellor  and  solicitor  of  London,  appointed  by  the 
bishop  of  London." 

[1584?]  The  booke  of  prittie  conceites,  taken  out  of  Latin, 
Italian,  French,  Dutch  and  Englishe.  Good  for  them  that  loue 
alwaies  newe  conceites. 

Printed  for  E.  White,  London  [1584?].  8vo.  Black 
letter.  British  Museum. 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS    FROM   THE   ITALIAN.       141 

1584.  The  Welspring  of  wittie  Conceites:  containing  a 
Methode,  aswel  to  speake,  as  to  endight  (aptly  and  eloquently) 
of  sundrie  Matters :  as  (also)  see  great  varietie  .of  pithy  Sen- 
tences, vertuous  sayings  and  right  Moral  Instructions :  No  lesse 
pleasant  to  be  read,  then  profitable  to  be  practised,  either  in 
familiar  speech  or  by  writing,  in  Epistles  and  Letters.  Out  of 
Italian  by  W.  Phist.  Student.  Wisdom  is  like  a  thing  fallen 
into  the  water,  which  no  man  canfinde,  except  it  be  searched  to 
the  bottome. 

At  London.  Printed  by  Richard  Jones,  dwelling  at  the 
Signe  of  the  Rose  and  the  Crowne,  neere  Holburne  Bridge. 
1584.  4to.  Black  letter.  51  leaves.  Bodleian. 

Besides  the  translation,  Phist.  (Phiston)  added  other  matter, 
"  partly  the  invention  of  late  writers  and  partly  mine  own." 

The  Welspring  is  a  series  of  letters  containing  the  merest 
commonplaces  of  morals.  Collier  says  there  is  not  a  single 
original  remark,  nor  one  allusion  of  a  local  or  personal 
character. 

1590.  The  Quintessence  of  Wit,  being  A  corrant  comfort  of 
conceites,  Maximies  [sic]  and  politicke  deuises,  selected  and 
gathered  together  by  Francisco  Sansouino.  Wherin  is  setfoorth 
sundrye  excellent  and  wise  sentences,  worthie  to  be  regarded 
and  followed.  Translated  out  of  the  Italian  tung,  and  put 
into  English  for  the  benefit  of  all  those  that  please  to  read  and 
understand  the  works  and  worth  of  a  worthy  writer. 

At  London,  Printed  by  Edward  Allde,  dwelling  without 
Cripplegate  at  the  signe  of  the  gilded  Cuppe.  Octobris  28. 
1590.  4to.  Black  letter.  108  leaves.  Huth.  British  Museum. 
Also,  1596  and  L599. 

The  arms  of  the  translator,  Captain  Robert  Hitchcock,  of 
Caversfield,  County  Bucks,  are  engraved  on  sig.  E  2,  verso. 
A  note  at  the  end  of  the  volume  reads, — "This  saide  Captaine 
Hichcock  seruing  in  the  Lowe  Cuntries,  Anno.  1586  with  two 
hundreth  Souldiours :  brought  from  thence  with  this  Booke, 
the  second  booke  of  Sansouinos  politick  Conceites,  which  shall 


142  MARY  AUGUSTA    SCOTT. 

be  put  to  the  Printing  so  soon  as  it  is  translated  out  of  the 
Italian  into  English."  No  second  volume,  however,  is  known 
to  have  appeared. 

The  work  consists  of  803  aphorisms,  which  form  the  first 
book  of  Sansovino's  Propositioni  overo  Considerationi  in 
materia  di  cose  di  Stato,  sotto  titolo  di  Avvertimenti,  Avvedi- 
menti  Civili,  &  Concetti  Politici  di  M.  F.  Guicciardini,  G.  F. 
Lotting  F.  Sansovino.  [Edited  by  F.  Sansovino.]  Vinegia. 
1583.  4to.  British  Museum. 

In  a  dedicatory  Epistle  "  to  the  Right  Worshipfull  Maister 
Robert  Cicell,  Esquire,  one  of  the  sonnes  of  the  Right  Honor- 
able the  Lord  High  Treasurer  of  England,"  Captain  Hitch- 
cock observes,  "  this  book  though  it  be  printed  in  common 
paper,  yet  was  it  not  penned  in  ordanarye  discourses ;  it 
spreadeth  it  self  like  a  tree  that  hath  many  braunches,  whereon 
some  bowe  is  greater  then  another,  and  yet  the  fruite  of  them 
all  are  alike  in  taste,  because  no  soure  crabbes  were  graffed 
where  sweet  apples  should  growe,  nor  no  bitter  oranges  can 
be  gathered  where  sweet  powngarnets  are  planted  ;  the  excel- 
lency of  this  fruit  must  be  sencibly  felt  and  tasted  with  a  well 
seasoned  minde  and  iudgement,  and  the  delicatenes  therof 
must  be  chewed  and  chawed  with  a  chosen  and  speciall  spirite 
of  understanding,  not  greedily  mumbled  up  and  eaten  as  a 
wanton  eates  peares  that  neuer  were  pared.  Philosophie  and 
farre  fetched  knowledge  may  not  be  handled  and  entertained 
like  a  Canterbury  tale,  nor  used  like  a  riding  rime  of  Sir 
Topas." 

I  quote  one  maxim  as  a  sample  of  the  rest, — "  That  common- 
wealth where  iustice  is  found  for  the  poore,  chastisement  for 
those  that  be  insolent  &  tirants,  weight  and  measure  in  those 
things  which  are  solde  for  the  use  of  man,  exercise  and 
discipline  amongst  yong  men,  small  covetousnes  amongst 
olde  persons,  can  neuer  perishe." 

1590.  The  Royal  Exchange.  Contayning  sundry  Apho- 
rismes  of  Phylosophie,  and  golden  principles  of  Morratt  and 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS   FROM   THE    ITALIAN.       143 

natural  Quadruplicities.  Under  pleasant  and  effectuall  sen- 
tences, dyscouering  such  strange  definitions,  deuisions,  and 
distinctions  of  vertue  and  vice,  as  may  please  the  grauest 
Oittizens,  or  youngest  Courtiers.  Fyrst  written  in  Italian  and 
dedicated  to  the  Signorie  of  Venice,  nowe  translated  into  Eng- 
lish, and  offered  to  the  Cittie  of  London.  Rob.  Greene,  in 
Artibus  Magister. 

At  London,  Printed  by  I.  Charlewood  for  William  "Wright. 
Anno  Dom.  1590.  4to.  Chetham  Library,  Manchester,  prob- 
ably a  unique  exemplar.  The  Life  and  Complete  Works  in 
Prose  and  Verse  of  Robert  Greene,  M.  A.  In  12  volumes. 
Vol.  vii.  The  Huth  Library.  A.  B.  Grosart.  1881-83. 
8vo.  50  copies  only.  Peabody.  Yale  University. 

Dedicated  to  the  right  honourable  Sir  John  Hart,  Knight, 
Lorde  Mayor  of  the  Cittie  of  London :  and  to  the  right 
worshipfull  Ma.  Richard  Gurney,.and  Ma.  Stephen  Soame, 
Sheriffes  of  the  same  Cittie. 

In  his  dedicatory  epistle  to  Sir  John  Hart,  Greene  says, — 
"  Hauing  (right  Honorable  and  Worshipful)  read  ouer  an 
Italian  Pamphlet,  dedicated  to  the  Signorie  of  Venice,  called 
La  Burza  Reale,  full  of  many  strange  &  effectuall  Aphorismes, 
ending  in  short  contriued  Quadruplicities,  translating  it  into 
our  vulgare  English  tongue,  &  keeping  the  tytle,  which  signi- 
fieth  the  Royall  Exchange,  I  presumed,  as  the  Italian  made 
offer  of  his  worke  to  the  Venetian  state,  so  to  present  the 
imitation  of  his  labours  to  the  pyllers  of  thys  honourable 
Cittie  of  London,  which  to  counteruaile  theyr  Burza  Reale, 
haue  a  Royall  Exchange:  flourishing  with  as  honorable 
Merchants,  as  theirs  with  valorosissimi  Mercadori." 

The  dedication,  "  To  the  right  honourable  Cittizens  of  the 
Cittie  of  London,"  sets  forth  some  of  the  wares  to  be  had  at 
this  Royall  Exchange, — 

"  heere  you  may  buy  obedience  to  God,  performed  in  the 
carefull  mayntenaunce  of  his  true  religion,  here  you  shal  see 
curiously  sette  our  reuerence  to  Magistrates,  fayth  to  freendes, 
loue  to  our  neyghbours,  and  charitie  to  the  poore:  who  couets 


144  MARY   AUGUSTA    SCOTT. 

to  know  the  duety  of  a  Christian,  the  offyce  of  a  Ruler,  the 
calling  of  a  Cittizen  :  to  be  breefe,  the  effects  Tullie  pende 
down  in  his  Officies,  eyther  for  the  embracing  of  vertue,  or 
shunning  of  vice,  let  hym  repayre  to  this  Royall  Exchange, 
and  there  he  shall  find  himselfe  generally  furnished." 

The  'Quadruplicates'  are  arranged  in  alphabetical  order, 
according  to  the  Italian,  and  are  sometimes  doubled,  making 
an  octave  of  aphorisms :  after  the  set,  or  sets,  comes  a  short 
comment,  usually  taken  from  some  classical  source.  I  cite  a 
few  'Quadruplicities/  to  illustrate, — 

Dottore.  A  Teacher. 

1.   In  the  day  to  looke  over  the  Lecture 
he  hath. 


Foure  things  doe 
belong  unto  a 
Teacher. 


2.    In  the  night  by  meditation  to  call  it 


to  memone. 


3.    Priuatly  to  resolue  his  schollers  in  al 


doubts. 

^  4.   To  be  affable  with  them. 
(This  is  the  first  of  two  Quadruplicities  on  this  theme.) 

Pouerta.  Potiertie. 

fl.    Grammer. 
2.   Lodgicke. 
3.    Arithmeticke. 
4.    And  Geometric. 

By  this,  the  Author  meaneth  as  I  gesse,  that  all  liberal  1 
Artes  decay,  that  deuotion  towardes  learning  is  colde,  and 
that  it  is  the  poorest  condition  to  be  a  Sch oiler,  all  Artes 
fayling  but  Diuinitie,  Law,  and  Phisicke,  the  one  profiting 
the  soule,  the  second  the  purse,  the  third  the  bodie. 
The  last  'Quadruplicity'  but  one  is  this, — 

Vila.  Lyfe. 

(1.  To  Hue  soberlie. 

2.  To  dwell  with  freends. 

3.  A  holesome  scituation. 

4.  A  quiet  and  a  merry  mind. 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS    FROM   THE    ITALIAN.       145 

Nestor,  who  as  Homer  and  other  Historiographers  doo 
retort,  liued  three  ages,  beeing  deraaunded  by  Agamemnon 
what  was  the  causes  of  his  so  long  life,  aunswered,  the  first 
or  primarie  cause,  was  the  decrees  of  the  Gods,  the  second, 
frugalitie  in  dyet,  want  of  care  and  of  melancholic.  If  you 
will  die  olde,  (sayth  Hermogenes)  lyue  not  in  Law-places, 
eschew  delicates,  and  spend  thy  idle  time  in  honest  and  merry 
companie. 

1613.  Amphorismes  Civill  and  Militarie,  amplified  with 
Authorities,  and  exemplified  with  History,  out  of  the  first 
Quarteme  of  F.  Guicciardine  [by  Sir  Robert  Dallington\. 
(A  briefe  Inference  upon  Guicciardine's  digression,  in  the 
fourth  part  of  the  first  Quarterne  of  his  Historie;  forbidden 
the  impression  and  effaced  out  of  the  originall  by  the  Inqui- 
sition.) 

Imprinted  for  E.  Blount,  London.  1613.  Folio.  2  pts. 
British  Museum.  1615.  Folio.  (Lowndes.)  1629.  Folio. 
British  Museum, 

The  first  edition  of  this  book  here  noted  is  the  presentation 
copy  to  Prince  Charles,  afterwards  King  Charles  I,  and  there 
is  a  portrait  of  the  Prince  in  his  thirteenth  year  on  the  verso  of 
the  titlepage.  The  second  edition  contains  a  translation  of 
the  inhibited  digression  (sixty-one  pages  in  all);  it  is  a 
satirical  discussion  of  the  authority  of  the  popes. 

Guicciardini's  history  was  published  in  1561,  folio  and 
octavo. 

L'historia  d?  Italia  di  F.  G.  pp.  1299.  [Edited  by  Agnolo 
Guicciardini.~\  L.  Torret\ino~\ :  Firenze.  1561.  8vo.  British 
Museum  (2  copies).  Also,  Fiorenza.  1561.  Folio.  British 
Museum. 

1633.    Bibliotheca  scholastica  instrudissima.     Or,  Treasurie 

of  Ancient  Adagies  and  Sententious  Proverbes,  selected  out  of 

the  English,  Greeke,  Latene,  French,  Italian,  and  Spanish,  etc. 

Excudebat  M.  F.  Impensis  Richardi  Whitaker,  Londini,  1633. 

10 


146  MARY   AUGUSTA   SCOTT. 

8vo.    British  Museum.    Also,  Londini.    1654.    8vo.    British 
Museum. 

By  Thomas  Draxe.  A  posthumous  publication  whose 
preface  is  dated,  "Harwich,  Julii  30,  1615." 

1659.  Proverbs    English,   French,   Dutch,    Italian,    and 
Spanish.     All  Englished    and   Alphabetically    digested.     By 
N.  R.  Gent. 

London,  Printed  for  Simon  Miller  at  the  Star  in  Pauls 
Church-yard.  1659.  Sm.  8vo. 

1660.  Choice   Proverbs   and   Dialogues  in   Italian    and 
English.     Also,  delightfull  stories  and  apothegms,  taken  out  of 
famous  Guicciardine.     Together  with  the  Warres  of  Hannibal 
against  the  Romans;  an  history  very  usefull  for  all  those  that 
would  attain  to  the  Italian  tongue.    Published  by  P.  P.,  an 
Italian,  and  Teacher  of  the  Italian  Tongue. 

Printed  by  E.  C.  London.  1660.  8vo.  Pp.304.  British 
Museum. 

Besides  Guicciardini's  Avvertimenti  Politici,  edited  by  San- 
sovino,  Lodovico  Guicciardini  edited  from  his  uncle's  writings, 

/  precetti  et  sententie  piu  notabili  in  materia  di  stato  di 
M.  F.  G.  [uiceiardini]. 

Anversa.     1585.     4to.    British  Museum. 

See  Quintessence  of  Wit.     1590. 

1666.  Piazza  Universale  di  Proverbi  Italiani:  Or,  A 
Common  Place  of  Italian  Proverbs  and  Proverbial  Phrases. 
Digested  in  Alphebetical  Order  by  way  of  Dictionary :  Inter- 
pretated,  and  occasionally  Illustrated  with  Notes.  Together 
with  a  Supplement  of  Italian  Dialogues.  Composed  by  Gio: 
Torriano,  an  Italian,  and  Professor  of  the  Tongue. 

London,  Printed  by  F.  and  T.  W.  for  the  Author.  Anno 
Dom.  1666.  Folio.  (Lowndes.  Allibone.) 


ELIZABETHAN    TRANSLATIONS   FROM   THE   ITALIAN.       147 

INDEX  OF  TITLES. 
a.  Religion  and  Theology. 

1547.  Five  Sermons  [by  Bernardino  Ochino]. 

1548.  Sermons  of  the  ryght  famous  Master  Bernardino  Ochine. 

1549.  A  Tragedie  or  Dialoge  of  the  Primacie  of  the  Bishop  of  Rome. 
[1550?]  A  discourse  or  traictise  of  Peter  Martyr  Vermill. 

[1550?]  Certayne  Sermons  [by  Bernardino  Ochino]. 
[1550?]  Fouretene  Sermons  [by  Bernardino  Ochino.] 

1550.  The  Alcaron  of  the  Barefote  Friers. 

1550.  An  Epistle  [from  Peter  Martyr  to  the  Duke  of  Somerset]. 

1550.  An  Epistle  of  the  famous  Doctour  Mathewe  Gribalde. 

1564.  Most  fruitfull  and  learned  Commentaries  [on  the  Book  of  Judges.] 

[1566.]  Pasquine  in  a  Traunce. 

1568.  The  Fearfull  Fansies  of  the  Florentine  Couper. 

1568.  Most  learned  and  fruitfull  Commentaries  [on  the  Romans.] 

1569.  Most  Godly  Prayers. 

1576.   The  Droomme  of  Doomes  Day. 
1576.   The  Mirror  of  Mans  lyfe. 

1576.    An  Epistle  for  the  godly  Bringing  up  of  Children. 
1576.    A  brief  Exposition  of  the  XII  Articles  of  our  Fayth. 
[1580  ?]  A  brief  Treatise  concerning  the  use  and  abuse  of  Dauncing. 
1580.    Certaine  Godly  and  very  profitable  Sermons. 

1583.  The  Common  Places  of  Doctor  Peter  Martyr. 

1584.  The  contempte  of  the  world  and  the  vanitie  thereof. 
[1600?]  How  to  meditate  the  Misteries  of  the  Rosarie. 

1606.    A  full  and  satisfactorie  answer  [to  Pope  Paul  V.]. 

1606.    A  Declaration  of  the  Variance  [between  Pope  Paul  V.  and  the 
Venetians.] 

1606.    Meditations  uppon  the  Passion. 

1608.    A  true  copie  of  the  Sentence  of  the  high  Councell  of  tenne. 

1608.    Newes  from  Italy  of  a  second  Moses. 

1608.   This  History  of  our  B.  Lady  of  Loreto. 
[1609.]    Flos  Sanctorum.    The  Lives  of  the  Saints. 

[1615?]  Certaine  devout  considerations  of  frequenting  the  Blessed  Sacra- 
ment. 

1616.  A  manifestation  of  the  motives  [of  M.  A.  de  Dominis]. 

1617.  A  Sermon  preached  the  first  Sunday  in  Advent  [by  M.  A.  de 

Dominis]. 

1618.  The  rockes  of  Christian  Shipwracke. 

1619.  The  life  of  the  Holy  Mother  Suor  Maria  Maddalena  de  Patsi. 

1620.  The  Historie  of  the  Councel  of  Trent. 

1620.    A  Relation  of  the  Death  of  the  most  illustrious  Lord  Sigr  Troilo 
Sauelli. 


148  MARY    AUGUSTA    SCOTT. 

1620.  Good  News  to  Christendome. 

1621.  The  Treasure  of  Vowed  Chastity. 

1623.  M.  A.  de  Dominis  declares  the  cause  of  his  Returne  out  of  England. 

1624.  The  Psalter  of  Jesus. 

1625.  The  Free  Schoole  of  Warre. 

1626.  The  History  of  the  quarrels  of  Pope  Paul  V.  with  the  State  of 

Venice. 

1626.  The  Seaven  Trumpets  of  Brother  B.  Saluthius  [of  the  Order  of 

St.  Francis]. 

1627.  The  Life  of  B.  Aloysius  Gonzaga. 

1628.  A  discourse  upon  the  Reasons  of  the  Resolution,  etc. 
1632.  Fuga  Saeculi,  or  the  Holy  Hatred  of  the  World. 
1632.  The  Admirable  Life  of  S.  Francis  Xavier. 

1638.  The  Hundred  and  Ten  Considerations  of  Signior  J.  Valdesso. 

1644.  St.  Paul's  Late  Progres  upon  Earth. 

1651.  The  Life  of  the  most  Learned  Father  Paul. 

1657.  A  Dialogue  of  Polygamy. 

1855.  [1548,  MS.]    The  Benefit  of  Christ's  Death. 

b.  Science  and  the.  Arts. 

1543.  The  most  excellent  workes  of  chirurgerye  [of  Giovanni  da  Vigo]. 

1548.  The  Secretes  of  the  reverende  maister  Alexis  of  Piemount. 

[1560?]  The  arte  of  ryding  and  of  breakinge  greate  Horses. 

1560.  The  Arte  of  Warre. 

1562.  The  Castel  of  Memorie. 

1562.  The  pleasaunt  and  wittie  playe  of  the  Cheasts  [Chess]. 

1563.  Onosandro  Platonico,  of  the  Generall  Captaine  and  of  his  office. 
1565.  Chirurgia  parua  Lanfranci. 

1574.  A  Direction  for  the  Health  of  Magistrates. 

[1579.]  A  Joyfull  Jewell.     Containing  preservatives  for  the  Plague. 

1580.  A  short  discours  uppon  chirurgerie. 

1584.  The  Art  of  Riding  ["  out  of  Xenophon  and  Gryson,"  i.  e.,  Federico 

Grisone]. 

1584.  The  Art  of  Riding  [by  Claudio  Corte]. 

1586.  Naturall  and  Artificiall  Conclusions. 

1588.  Most  briefe  Tables. 

1588.  Three  Bookes  of  Colloquies  concerning  the  Arte  of  Shooting. 

1588.  [J7  Padre  di  Famiglia.']     The  Housholders  Philosophic. 

1594.  G.  di  Grassi  his  true  Arte  of  Defence. 

1594.  Examen  de  Ingenios.    The  Examination  of  Mens  Wits. 

1595.  A  most  strange  and  wonderfull  prophesie. 

1595.  Vincentio  Saviolo  his  Practise. 

1596.  A  Booke  of  Secrets. 

1597.  Ludus  Scacchiae :  Chesse-play. 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS    FROM   THE    ITALIAN.        J  49 

1598.    Epulario,  or  the  Italian  Banquet. 

1598.   A  Tracte  containing  the  Artes  of  curious  Pain  tinge,  Carvinge,  & 

Buildinge. 
1602.   The  Theoriques  of  the  seven  Planets. 

1611.  The  first  (—the  fift)  booke  of  Architecture. 

1618.  Opiologia,  or  a  Treatise  concerning  the  nature  and  use  of  Opium. 

1622.  The  Italian  Prophecier. 

1623.  A  Revelation  of  the  secret  spirit  [alchemy]. 

1624.  A  Strange  and  Wonderfull  Prognostication. 

1634.    Hygiasticon  :  or  the  right  course  of  preserving  Life  and  Health. 
1638.    A  Learned  Treatise  of  Globes. 

1658.  Natural  Magick. 

c.    Grammars  and  Dictionaries. 

1550.  Principal  Rules  of  the  Italian  Grammer. 

1568.  The  Emmie  of  Idlenesse. 

1575.  An  Italian  Grammer. 

1578.  Florio  his  first  Frutes. 

1578.  A  comfortable  ayde  for  Schollers. 

1583.  Campo  di  Fior,  or  else  The  Flourie  Field  of  Foore  Languages. 
1591.  Florios  Second  Frutes. 

1597.  The  Italian  Schoole-maister. 

1598.  A  Worlde  of  Wordes. 

1612.  The  Passenger.  ^ 

1617.  'HTEMQN   EJ3  TA3  TAQ3SA3.    The  Guide  into  Tongues. 

1640.  The  Italian  Tutor. 

1660.  Lexicon  Tetraglotton. 

1673.  The  Italian  reviv'd,  or  Introduction  to  the  Italian  Tongue. 

d.   Collections  of  Proverbs. 

1581.  A  Collection  of  Italian  Proverbes. 

[1584?]  The  booke  of  prittie  conceites. 

1584.  The  Welspring  of  wittie  Conceites. 
1590.  The  Quintessence  of  Wit. 

1590.    The  Royal  Exchange. 

1613.  Amphorismes  Civill  and  Militarie. 

1633.    Bibliolheca    scholaslica    inslructissima,    Or,    Treasurie    of    Ancient 
Adagies. 

1659.  Proverbs  English,  French,  Dutch,  Italian,  and  Spanish. 

1660.  Choice  Proverbs  and  Dialogues  in  Italian  and  English. 

1666.    Piazza   Universale  di  Proverbi  Italiani:   Or  a  Common   Place  of 
Italian  Proverbs. 


150  MARY   AUGUSTA    SCOTT. 


INDEX  OF  ENGLISH  TRANSLATORS. 

Aglionby,  Edward 1520-1587(7). 

Androse,  Richard fl.  1569. 

Argentine,  alias  Sexten,  Richard d.  1568. 

Astley,  John d.  1595. 

B.  G fl.  1584. 

B.  G fl.  1597. 

B.  G fl.  1619. 

B.  H.  (Bullinger,  Heinrich) 1504-1575. 

B.  W. fl.  1625. 

Baker,  George 1540-1600. 

Barker,  William fl.  1554-J568. 

Bedell,  William,  Bishop  of  Kilmore  and  Ardagh 1571-1642. 

Bedingfield,  Thomas d.  1613. 

Blundeville,  Thomas fl.  1561. 

Booth,  Richard fl.  1626. 

Brent,  Sir  Nathaniel,  Warden  of  Merton  College 1573  (?)-1652. 

Bretnor,  Thomas fl.  1607-1618. 

C.  G fl.  1584. 

Carew,  Richard 1555-1620. 

Chilmead,  John  [Edmund?] 1610-1654. 

Cooke,  Ann,  Lady  Bacon 1528-1610. 

Courtenay,  Edward,  Earl  of  Devonshire 1526  (?)-1556. 

Crashaw,  William 1572-1626. 

Dallington,  Sir  Robert .1561-1637. 

Draxe,  Thomas d.  1618. 

Ferrar,  Nicholas 1592-1637. 

Fitzherbert,  Thomas 1552-1640. 

Florio,  John 1553  (?)-1625. 

Fullwood,  William fl.  1562-1568. 

G.  I.,  gentleman fl.  1594. 

G.  J.  or  I fl.  [1615?]. 

Gale,  Thomas .1507-1587. 

Gascoigne,  George 1525(?)-1577. 

Glemhan,  Charles fl.  1569. 

Golding,  Arthur 1536  (?)-1605(?). 

Granthan,  Henry fl.  1571-1587. 

Greene,  Robert 1560(?)-1592. 

H.  G fl.  1574-1588. 

Hall,  or  Halle,  John 1529  (?)-1566  (?). 

Hawkins,  Henry 1571  (?)-1646. 

Haydocke,  Richard fl.  1598-1605. 

Heigham,  John fl.  1614-1631. 

Herbert,  George 1593-1633. 


ELIZABETHAN   TRANSLATIONS   FROM   THE   ITALIAN.       151 

Hester,  John d.  1593. 

Hill,  Thomas,  Londoner fl.  1590. 

Hitchcock,  Robert fl.  1590. 

Holloway,  Anthony fl.  1595. 

Hollyband,  Claudius  ( Desainliens,  Claude) fl.  1575-1583. 

Howell,  James 1594  (?)-!  666. 

K.  I.  or  T fl.  [1580?]. 

K.  T fl.  1588. 

Kerton,  Henry fl.  1576. 

Kinsman,  Edward fl.  1609  (?). 

Lucar,  Cyprian fl.  1588-1590. 

Marten,  Anthony .d.  1597. 

Matthew,  Sir  Toby 1577-1655. 

Merbury,  Charles fl.  1581. 

Minshew,  John fl.  1617-1625. 

N.  R.  E.  (Napier,  Robert,  Esq.?) fl.  1623. 

Newton,  Sir  Adam,  Dean  of  Durham d.  1630. 

Newton,  Thomas,  of  Cheshire 1542(?)-1607. 

Norton,  Robert fl.  1586. 

Norton,  Thomas 1532-1584. 

P.  G.  Br.  (of  the  Order  of  St.  Francis) fl.  1626. 

P.  T fl.  1576. 

P.  W.  (Philip,  William?) fl.  1596. 

P.  W.  L.,  of  Saint  Swithins fl.  1576. 

Phiston,  or  Fiston,  W fl.  1570-1609. 

Ponet,  Poynet,  John,  Bishop  of  Rochester  and  of  Winchester.,1516  (?)-1556. 

Potter,  Christopher,  Provost  of  Queen's  College,  Oxford 1591-1646. 

Price,  Thomas fl.  1608. 

E.  N.  Gent fl.  1659. 

Eoe,  Sir  Thomas 1581  (?)-1644. 

Rowbotham,  James fl.  1562. 

Rowland,  David,  of  Anglesey fl.  1578-1586. 

S.  R fl.  1627. 

S.  T.  (Nicholas  Ferrar?) fl.  1634. 

Thomas,  William Executed,  May  18,  1554. 

Udall,  Nicholas 1506-1564. 

W.  I fl.  1621. 

Warde,  William fl.  1558. 

Whitehorne,  Peter fl.  1560. 


INDEX  OP  ITALIAN  AUTHORS. 

Accarigi,  Alberto,  da  Cento fl.  1537-1562. 

Albizzi,  Bartoloromeo,  da  Pisa d.  1401. 

Alessio  Piemontese....  ,...fl.  1557. 


152    -  Xs  MARY    AUCrflSTA    SCOTT. 


Alunno,  Francesco fl-  1543. 

Ambrogini,  Angelo  (Poliziano) 1454-1494. 

Androzzi,  Fulvio ? 

Bagno,  Timoteo  da fl.  1604. 

Balbani,  Niccolo fl.  1581-1596. 

Benvenuto fl.  1612. 

Borromeo,  S.Carlo 1538-1584. 

Cambi,  Bartolommeo ? 

Camilli,  Camillo fl.  1580-1591. 

Cataneo,  Girolamo  (Novarese) fl.  1563-1572. 

Cepari,  VirgiHo 1564-1631. 

Cipriano,  Giovanni ? 

Conti,  Lotario  (Pope  Innocent  III) 1160  (?)-1216. 

Cornaro,  Luigi t 1467-1566. 

Cortano,  Ludovico ? 

Corte,  Claudio fl.  1573. 

Cotta,  Fabio fl.  1546. 

Curio,  Caelius  Secundus 1503-1569. 

Dominis,  Marco  Antonio  de,  Bishop  of  Segni  and  Archbishop 

ofSpalatro 1566-1624. 

Estella,  Diego  de 1524-1578. 

Ficino,  Marsilio 1433-1499. 

Fioravanti,  Leonardo,  Count d.  1588. 

Gelli,  Giovanni  Battista 1498-1563. 

Giussani,  Giovanni  Pietro fl.  1601-1611. 

Grassi,  Giacomo  di fl.  1570. 

Grataroli,  Guglielmo 1516-1568. 

Gribaldi,  Matteo,  called  'Mopha' d.  1564. 

Grisone,  Federico fl.  1550. 

Guicciardini,  Francesco 1482-1540. 

Huarte  Navarro,  Juan  de  Dios b.  1530-35 (?). 

Lambi,  Giovanni  Battista ? 

Lanfranci  of  Milan d.  1306  (?). 

Lentulo,  Scipio fl.  1568-1592. 

Loarte,  Gaspare... d.  1578. 

Lomazzo,  Giovanni  Paolo 1538-1600(7). 

Machiavelli,  Niccolo 1469-1527. 

Magini,  Giovanni  Antonio 1555-1617. 

Manfredi,  Fulgenzio fl.  1610(7). 

Merula,  Giorgio 1424  (?)-! 494. 

Mirandola,  Giovanni  Pico  della,  Count  of  Concordia 1463-1494. 

Ochino,  Bernardino,  of  Siena 1487-1564. 

Odemira,  Damiano  da ? 

P.  F fl.  1608. 

P.  P ,...fl.  1660. 


PUBLICATIONS 

OP  THE 

MODERN  LANGUAGE  ASSOCIATION  OF  AMERICA, 

1898. 
VOL.  XIII,  2.  NEW  SERIES,  VOL.  VI,  2. 

III.— A  VIEW  OF  THE  VIEWS  ABOUT  HAMLET.1 

"Verily,  given  a  printing-press  upon  German  soil,"  says 
Dr.  Fnrness,  "  and  lo  !  an  essay  on  Hamlet."  England  and 
the  United  States,  as  might  be  expected,  vie  with  Germany 
in  contributing  to  the  literature  of  this  play.  All  the  sister- 
nations  of  Europe,  too,  have  their  own  essays  on  Hamlet. 
Numberless  are  those  who  confidently  take  up  the  task 
enjoined  on  Horatio  by  the  dying  Prince : — 
"  Report  me  and  my  cause  aright." 

It  behooves  one  therefore  who  would  put  forth  another  paper 
upon  Hamlet  to  show  cause  at  the  outset  why  he  should  not 
be  looked  upon  as  a  public  enemy. 

1 1  wish  to  acknowledge  my  constant  indebtedness  in  preparing  this  paper 
to  the  great  Variorum  edition  of  Hamlet  by  Dr.  H.  H.  Furness.  Each  criti- 
cism quoted  or  alluded  to  in  the  following  p^ges  can  be  found  in  that  work 
unless  some  other  specific  reference  is  given. 

The  important  work  by  Professor  Loening  of  Jena,  Die  Hamlet- Tragodie 
Shakespeares,  was  not  known  to  me  until  after  this  essay  had  reached  what 
I  supposed  to  be  its  completed  form.  Since  reading  that  most  penetrating, 
thorough,  and  judicious  discussion  of  the  play,  I  have  used  the  new  light 
thus  obtained  in  revising  my  own  more  condensed  treatment,  but  I  have 
not  changed  in  any  way  my  fundamental  plan.  I  first  learned  the  signifi- 
cance of  Loening's  book  from  Professor  W.  H.  Hulme's  careful  review  in 
the  Modern  Language  Notes  for  December,  1896. 


Copyright,  1898,  by  A.  H.  Tolman. 

155 


156  A.    H.    TOLMAN. 

My  apology  must  be  that  it  is  not  so  much  my  purpose  to 
write  a  new  essay  upon  this  play,  as  it  is  to  classify  and  inter- 
pret the  essays  which  have  already  been  written.  I  desire  to 
lighten  the  burden  for  those  who  study  the  literature  con- 
cerning Hamlet,  and  at  the  same  time  to  help  those  who  are 
simply  readers  of  the  play.  I  shall  confine  attention  for  the 
most  part  to  the  central  mystery  of  the  drama,  namely,  Why 
does  Hamlet  delay  to  revenge  the  murder  of  his  father,  and 
so  fulfil  the  command  of  the  Ghost?  Was  his  delay  real,  or 
only  apparent  ?  Was  it  blame-worthy,  or  blameless  ? 

Three  separate  questions  will  come  before  us  as  we  discuss 
the  central  problem  of  this  drama.  First,  how  many  possible 
lines  of  explanation  can  be  found  for  what  seems  to  be  the 
weak  and  procrastinating  conduct  of  Hamlet?  Practically 
the  same  as  the  preceding,  so  far  as  we  can  see,  is  a  second 
inquiry,  What  theories  of  the  play  have  as  a  matter  of  fact 
been  put  forward  by  critics  ?  As  we  proceed,  and  especially 
at  the  close  of  the  paper,  a  third  question  will  naturally 
present  itself,  namely,  How  far  are  the  various  explanations 
that  have  been  offered,-  or  partial  explanations,  compatible 
with  one  another,  or  even  complementary  ?  and  how  far  are 
they  antagonistic,  or  even  completely  irreconcilable?  The 
failure  of  critics  to  keep  this  last  question  clearly  before  them 
has  perhaps  caused  as  much  confusion  as  any  fact  connected 
with  the  study  of  the  drama.  A  commentator  has  often 
sought  to  overthrow  the  opinion  of  a  predecessor  by  present- 
ing considerations  entirely  compatible  with  those  which  had 
been  emphasized  by  his  fellow-interpreter. 

I.   THE  COMMAND  TO  REVENGE. 

A  threefold  command  is  laid  upon  Hamlet  by  the  ghost  of 
his  father : — 

"  If  thou  didst  ever  thy  dear  father  love— 

(1)  Revenge  his  foul  and  most  unnatural  murder. 


A  VIEW  OF  THE  VIEWS  ABOUT  Hamlet.  157 

(2)  But,  howsoever  thou  pursuest  this  act, 

Taint  not  thy  mind,  (3)  nor  let  thy  soul  contrive 
Against  thy  mother  aught."  I,  v,  23-86. 

Let  us  direct  our  attention,  for  a  time,  exclusively  to  the 
first  injunction  of  the  Ghost,  the  solemn  adjuration  to  revenge, 
leaving  the  remaining  commands  to  be  considered  later.  The 
weight  of  emphasis  seems  plainly  to  rest  upon  this  first  man- 
date. The  two  qualifying  commands  come  at  the  end  of  the 
closing  speech  of  the  Ghost;  and  the  first  one  of  them,  "Taint 
not  thy  mind,"  is  not  present  at  all  in  the  earliest  version  of 
the  play,  the  First  Quarto. 

A  difficulty  meets  us  at  the  beginning  of  our  inquiry  which 
has  probably  caused  more  or  less  trouble  to  every  student  of 
Hamlet.  What  is  the  moral  standing-ground  of  the  play? 
What  are  its  ethical  presuppositions?  What  standards  of 
right  does  it  take  for  granted?  Should  Hamlet  have  accepted 
revenge, — an  immediate,  violent,  bloody  revenge, — as  his  one, 
all-inclusive  duty?  Those  students  of  the  play  who  make 
especially  prominent  the  first  command  of  the  Ghost,  say 
"Yes."  Should  he  have  accepted  the  testimony  of  the  Ghost 
as  final  and  conclusive  ?  In  any  case,  should  the  conduct  of 
the  King  when  witnessing  the  play  have  put  an  end  to  all 
doubt  and  hesitation,  and  led  to  immediate  revenge?  Those 
who  accent  the  command  to  revenge  will  say  "  Yes"  to  one 
or  both  of  these  questions.  According  to  this  view,  Hamlet 
is  to  be  conceived  as  living  at  a  time  when  the  right  and  duty 
of  blood-revenge  are  unquestioned.  We  are  to  accept  on  this 
point  the  passionate  standards  of  the  natural  man.  Hamlet 
is  driven  forward  by  the  command  of  his  father  and  by  his 
own  burning  desire  for  vengeance.  His  task  is,  as  Taine 
puts  it,  "  to  go  quietly,  and,  with  premeditation,  plunge  a 
sword  into  a  breast." 

If  we  adopt  this  view  of  the  situation  and  of  Hamlet's 
character,  what  are  the  possible  explanations  of  his  delay  in 
securing  vengeance  ?  The  following  have  been  more  or  less 
clearly  put  forward  by  various  critics : — 


158  A.    H.    TOLMAN. 

1.  An  excessive  tendency  to  reflection. 

2.  Weakness  of  will. 

3.  An  unhealthy  or  a  disturbed  emotional  nature.     This 

explanation  takes  two  forms  : — 

a.  A  deep-seated  melancholy  is  a  fundamental  char- 

acteristic of  Hamlet's  nature. 

b.  The  discovery  by  Hamlet  of  the  lies,  hypocrisies, 

infidelities  of  life  has  brought  with  it  a  sick- 
ness of  heart  which  paralyses  the  powers  of 
action.  That  is,  an  extreme  moral  sensitive- 
ness is  the  important  emotional  quality. 

It  is  clear  that  these  two  statements,  a  and 
6,  do  not  antagonize  each  other;  it  is  entirely 
possible  to  accept  them  both. 

4.  Suspicion  of  the  Ghost,  and  doubt  of  the  truth  of  his 

revelation. 

5.  An  overpowering  love  for  Ophelia. 

6.  A  clear  or  a  lurking  consciousness  of  mental  derange- 

ment. 

7.  Interest  in  playing  the  r6le  of  madman. 

8.  A  wish  to  be  a  reformer,  to  set  right  his  time. 

9.  Certain  bodily  infirmities. 

10.  Cowardice. 

The  first  three  of  the  above  explanations  are  closely  affili- 
ated ;  they  naturally  complement  one  another.  They  agree 
in  representing  Hamlet's  difficulty  as  personal,  subjective: 
the  first  suggestion  would  make  the  defect  in  his  nature  an 
intellectual  one ;  the  second  would  make  it  volitional ;  the 
third,  emotional,  temperamental.  The  attentive  reader  will 
note  that  these  three  separate  suggested  causes  may  fairly  be 
looked  upon  to  some  degree  as  different  ways  of  saying  the 
same  thing.  By  an  excessive  tendency  to  reflection  we  mean 
excessive  in  proportion  to  the  activity  of  the  other  powers, 
especially  the  powers  of  action ;  by  weakness  of  will  we  may 
mean  simply  weakness  in  proportion  to  the  activity  of  the 
other  powers  of  the  mind  under  the  given  circumstances.  To 


A  VIEW  OF  THE  VIEWS  ABOUT  Hamlet.  159 

say  that  a  man  reflects  too  much,  is  practically  to  say  that  he 
decides,  acts  too  little.  And  accompanying  all  reflection  and 
volition,  but  deeper  than  they,  are  the  great  tides  of  the 
emotional  being  and  the  Gulf-stream  of  temperament. 

It  is  very  natural,  therefore,  if  any  one  of  these  first  three 
suggestions  is  accepted  to  give  some  weight  to  all  of  them. 
Students  of  the  play,  however,  have  often  championed  a 
single  one  of  these  considerations,  without  recognizing  the 
others. 

It  is  along  the  lines  just  indicated  that  the  first  great 
critics  of  Shakespeare  interpreted  the  character  of  the  Danish 
Prince.  Coleridge  pointed  out  Hamlet's  "great,  almost  enor- 
mous, intellectual  activity,'7  what  Vischer  calls  the  "excess 
in  Hamlet  of  a  reflective,  meditative  habit  of  mind."  Among 
the  many  scholars  who  have  followed  the  great  English  inter- 
preter in  making  prominent  the  tendency  of  Hamlet  to  lose 
himself  in  reflection,  I  will  mention  Hazlitt,  Dowden,  and 
Hermann  Grimm.  Taine  and  others,  who  speak  of  Hamlet's 
"too  lively  imagination,"  also  belong  here. 

Goethe  apparently  intended  to  attribute  to  Hamlet  both 
weakness  of  volition  and  extreme  moral  sensitiveness,  in  his 
famous  criticism  of  the  play ;  but  infirmity  of  will  seems 
to  have  been  most  prominent  in  his  thought.  To  him  the 
tragedy  tells  the  story  of  "a  great  deed  laid  upon  a  soul 
unequal  to  the  performance  of  it."  Richard  Grant  White 
characterizes  Hamlet  as  "  constitutionally  irresolute,  purpose- 
less, and  procrastinating."  Lowell  and  Schlegel  also  empha- 
size his  lack  of  will-power.1 

Loening  looks  upon  Hamlet's  melancholy  temperament  as 
the  fundamental  fact  in  his  nature.  His  tendency  to  lose 
himself  in  gloomy  reflection  and  especially  in  bitter  self- 
condemnation,  his  unwillingness  to  make  decisions,  and  his 

*I  have  not  yet  been  able  to  read  with  care  Kuno  Fischer's  Shakespeartfs 
Hamlet,  Heidelberg,  1896.  F.  A.  Leo,  in  the  Shakespeare  Jahrbucfi  for  1897, 
expresses  the  opinion  that  the  book  is  on  the  whole  a  presentation  of  the 
view  of  Goethe. 


160  A.    H.    TOLMAN. 

inability  to  set  before  himself  and  carry  out  any  consistent, 
premeditated  line  of  effective  action, — these  characteristics 
Loening  considers  to  be  but  natural  manifestations  and 
accompaniments  of  this  melancholy  temperament.  This 
interpreter  wisely  makes  Hamlet's  emotional  nature  the 

primary  fact. 

"  Thought  is  deeper  than  all  speech, 
Feeling  deeper  than  all  thought." 

Loening  points  out  that  "great  intellectual  activity"  does 
not  necessarily  tend  to  keep  one  from  acting,  and  calls  to  mind 
Caesar's  judgment  upon  Cassius,  "He  thinks  too  much: 
such  men  are  dangerous."  A  settled,  constitutional  aversion 
toward  decision  and  action  seems  to  be  the  deeper  cause 
underneath  Hamlet's  "excessive  tendency  to  reflection." 

A  German  critic,  Sievers,  holds  that  Hamlet  is  kept  from 
acting  by  what  I  have  called  above  extreme  moral  sensitive- 
ness. Sievers  says : — 

"  Hamlet  is  indeed  a  costly  vase  full  of  lovely  flowers,  for 
he  is  a  pure  human  being,  penetrated  by  enthusiasm  for  the 
Great  and  the  Beautiful,  living  wholly  in  the  Ideal,  and,  above 
all  things,  full  of  faith  in  man;  and  the  vase  is  shattered  into 
atoms  from  within, — this  and  just  this  Goethe  truly  felt, — but 
what  causes  the  ruin  of  the  vase  is  not  that  the  great  deed  of 
avenging  a  father's  murder  exceeds  its  strength,  but  it  is  the 
discovery  of  the  falseness  of  man,  the  discovery  of  the  contra- 
diction between  the  ideal  world  and  the  actual,  which  suddenly 
confronts  him  ....  in  short,  Hamlet  perishes  because  the 
gloomy  background  of  life  is  suddenly  unrolled  before  him, 
because  the  sight  of  this  robs  him  of  \\isfaith  in  life  and  in 
good,  and  because  he  now  cannot  act." 

It  is  an  unimportant  fact  that  the  present  writer  agrees 
with  the  innumerable  company  who  have  accepted  some  form 
of  that  general  theory  of  the  play  with  which  we  have  so 
far  been  dealing.  Some  mediation  is  necessary,  to  be  sure, 
between  the  various  views  that  have  been  outlined.  More- 
over, this  line  of  interpretation  needs,  I  think,  to  be  supple- 


A  VIEW  OF  THE  VIEWS  ABOUT  Hamlet.  161 

men  ted  at  a  number  of  points;  but  it  should  not  be  given 
up.  And  we  should  be  especially  careful  not  to  look  upon 
Hamlet's  character  as  defective  solely  upon  the  intellectual, 
the  volitional,. or  the  emotional  side.  This  drama,  like  real 
life,  knows  nothing  of  the  sharp  lines  of  division  between 
intellect,  feeling,  and  will,  once  dear  to  psychology. 

It  is  well  to  remind  ourselves  before  we  go  farther  that 
Hamlet  does  act  with  great  decision  and  energy  at  several 
points  in  the  play.  Those  who  accept  the  view  of  Werder, 
to  be  explained  later,  contend  that  Hamlet's  true  character 
manifests  itself  unchecked  by  circumstances  in  these  vigorous 
measures.  Loening's  explanation  of  these  outbreaks,  and  also 
of  the  frequent  violence  of  Hamlet's  language,  is  that  the 
Prince  has  in  his  nature  a  passionate  strain,  *'  a  choleric  ele- 
ment." Under  sudden  provocation,  and  with  an  opportunity 
for  action  immediately  before  him,  Hamlet  can  be  bold  and 
decisive.  He  warns  Laertes,  in  the  struggle  over  the  body 
of  Ophelia,  that  there  is  in  him  u  something  dangerous,  which 
let  thy  wiseness  fear." 

The  fourth  possible  ground  for  delay  indicated  above, 
Hamlet's  fear  that  the  Ghost  may  have  deceived  him,  is 
usually  accepted  as  having  much  weight.  Just  before  the 
close  of  Act  II  the  hero  says  : — 

"  The  spirit  that  I  have  seen 
May  be  the  devil :  and  the  devil  hath  power 
To  assume  a  pleasing  shape ;  yea,  and  perhaps 
Out  of  my  weakness  and  my  melancholy, 
As  he  is  very  potent  with  such  spirits, 
Abuses  me  to  damn  me."  II,  n,  627-632. 

Loening  points  out,  however,  that  all  the  remaining  portions 
of  the  soliloquy  in  which  these  words  occur  take  for  granted 
the  entire  truth  of  the  Ghost's  revelation  and  the  guilt  of  the 
King.  This  fact  seems  to  show  that  Hamlet's  suspicion  of 
the  Ghost  is  only  a  pretence,  in  which  he  tries  to  find  both  a 
justification  for  the  two  months  of  inaction  that  have  elapsed 


162  A.    H.    TOLMAN. 

since  the  revelation  of  the  Ghost  was  made  to  him,  and  an 
additional  reason  in  favor  of  the  proposed  play. 

At  the  beginning  of  Act  II,  Ophelia  tells  Polonius  of  the 
meeting  "so  piteous  and  profound"  which  has  just  taken 
place  between  the  Prince  and  herself.  This  passage,  with 
others,  has  suggested  the  opinion  that  the  devotion  of  the 
hero  to  her  affects  him  so  deeply,  so  absorbs  his  soul,  that  it 
furnishes  an  additional  explanation  of  his  dilatoriness.  A 
certain  Dr.  Woelffel  probably  stands  alone  in  looking  upon 
"  the  failure  of  Ophelia  to  respond  to  Hamlet's  love  in  all  its 
depth  and  ardor"  as  "the  turning-point  in  the  tragedy." 

Goethe's  evil  interpretation  of  the  character  of  Ophelia 
seems  to  me  entirely  uncalled  for;  and  some  other  German 
critics  have  been  eager  to  outdo  their  master.  It  may  be  that 
Goethe's  explanations  prove  some  impurity  of  mind — but  not 
in  Ophelia.  For  us,  as  for  Laertes, — 

"From  her  fair  and  unpolluted  flesh" 
The  "violets  spring." 

But  little  space  can  be  given  here  to  what  Furness  calls 
"  the  one  great  insoluble  mystery  of  Hamlet's  sanity."  The 
various  opinions  range  all  the  way  from  the  conviction  of 
Hudson  and  others  that  the  Prince  is  not  sane,  to  the  view 
of  Furness  "  that  he  is  neither  mad  nor  pretends  to  be." 
Lowell  speaks  of  Hamlet's  "perpetual  inclination  to  irony"; 
and  Weiss  would  make  this  the  explanation  of  most  things 
that  have  seemed  to  many  to  indicate  a  feigning  of  in- 
sanity. 

I  accept  the  usual  view  that  Hamlet  is  not  mad  and  that 
he  does  feign  madness ;  lack  of  sanity  is  not  therefore  for 
me  an  explanation  of  his  delay.  Hamlet's  soul  is  indeed 
violently  agitated  by  the  words  of  the  Ghost;  but  the  pre- 
tence that  his  mind  is  diseased  seems  to  me  a  device,  taken 
up  at  first  on  the  impulse  of  the  moment,  by  means  of  which 
he  both  avoids  decisive  action,  and  makes  it  possible  to  give 
safe  though  veiled  utterance  to  his  tumultuous  feelings. 


A  VIEW  OF  THE  VIEWS  ABOUT  Hamlet.  163 

A  few  students  not  only  accept  the  mental  derangement  of 
the  hero  as  a  fact,  but  consider  it  to  be  so  serious  and  deep- 
seated  as  to  furnish  the  sole  and  the  sufficient  explanation  for 
all  the  irregularities  of  his  conduct.  A  recent  article  by  Mr. 
Oakcshott  seems  to  advocate  this  opinion.1 

Except  for  those  who  take  the  somewhat  extreme  position 
just  indicated,  the  question  whether  Hamlet's  madness  is  real 
or  pretended  is  perhaps  not  of  central  importance  in  the  inter- 
pretation of  the  drama.  Grimm  and  Lewes  have  argued  very 
forcibly  that  it  is  not  possible  to  make  up  one's  mind  on  this 
point,  and  that  Shakespeare  did  not  intend  to  have  us  do  so. 
I  believe  that  the  debate  on  this  topic  concerns  largely  the 
use  of  terms,  the  definition  of  madness;  and  that  it  often 
indicates  no  fundamental  difference  of  opinion  between  the 
opposing  sides.  Hamlet  is  sane  enough  to  be  the  responsible 
hero  of  a  great  tragedy.  He  is  not  sane  enough  to  be  pro- 
nounced rational  by  the  experts  :  few  are. 

Probably  all  who  think  that  Hamlet  makes  a  pretence  of 
madness  will  agree  that  the  interest  which  he  takes  in  this 
feigning  helps  to  keep  him  from  positive  action.  An  English 
writer,  Boas,  says  in  a  recent  book  : — 

"  Hamlet  becomes  absorbed  in  the  intellectual  fascination 
of  his  role;  he  revels  in  the  opportunities  it  gives  him  of 
bewildering  those  about  him,  of  letting  fly  shafts  of  mockery, 
here,  there,  and  everywhere.  But  these  verbal  triumphs  are 
Pyrrhic  victories,  which  draw  him  further  and  further  from 
his  legitimate  task."2 

That  Hamlet,  shocked  by  the  evil  about  him,  desires  to 
open  the  eyes  of  his  generation  to  its  corruptness  and  to  act  as 
a  reformer,  is  thought  by  some  to  be  implied  in  the  couplet, — 

"The  time  is  out  of  joint:  O  cursed  spite, 
That  ever  I  was  born  to  set  it  right ! "         I,  v,  188-9. 

1 "  Hamlet.    From  a  Student's  Notebook."    The  Westminster  Review.    Re- 
printed in  the  Eclectic  Magazine  for  August,  1897. 
*Skakspere  and  His  Predecessors,  N.  Y.,  1896,  p.  398. 


164  A.    H.    TOLMAN. 

Professor  Brandl  thinks  that  this  desire  has  force  in  keeping 
the  hero  back  from  action.1  The  words  seem  to  me  to  be  a 
violent  expression  of  Hamlet's  antipathy  toward  the  task 
which  the  Ghost  has  laid  upon  him. 

The  Queen  says  of  Hamlet  at  the  fencing-bout,  "  He's  fat, 
and  scant  of  breath  "  (V,  n,  298).  There  are  other  expres- 
sions in  the  play  which  have  been  taken  to  indicate  that  the 
Prince  is  not  sound  of  body.  Loening  thinks  that  the  evi- 
dence points  to  an  internal  fatness,  fatness  of  the  heart ;  and 
he  believes  that  this  physical  infirmity  helps  to  explain  the 
inactivity  of  the  hero. 

This  word  "fat"  has  been  a  stone  of  stumbling.  Although 
there  is  no  authority  for  any  other  word,  "fat"  has  been 
looked  upon  either  as  a  misprint  for  "  hot"  or  "  faint,"  or  as 
referring  to  the  physical  appearance  of  Burbage,  the  first  actor 
to  play  this  r6le. 

At  least  two  interpreters,  Borne  and  Rohrbach,  have  looked 
upon  Hamlet  as  a  plain  coward,  and  have  found  in  this  fact 
alone  the  decisive  reason  for  his  inaction.  While  other  scholars 
make  this  consideration  less  prominent,  there  are  many  who 
find  in  the  Prince  some  measure  of  cowardice. 

II.   "  TAINT  NOT  THY  MIND." 

^  ~j^ 

If  we  look  now  at  the  second  command  of  the  Ghost, — 

"  But,  howsoever  thou  pursuest  this  act, 
Taint  not  thy  mind,"  I,  v,  84-5. 

what  farther  considerations  offer  themselves  as  possible  expla- 
nations of  Hamlet's  delay?  Certainly  we  must  consider  the 
following : — 

1.  A  filial   desire   and   purpose  to  obey   this  injunction, 
"  Taint  not  thy  mind." 

2.  Conscientious  scruples  against   blood-revenge,   and  an 
instinctive  shrinking  from  it  as  barbarous. 

lShakspere,  Berlin.  1894,  pp.  151,  154. 


A  VIEW  OF  THE  VIEWS  ABOUT  Hamlet.  165 

3.  Au  aversion  to  killing  one  who,  though  stained   with 
crime,  is  the  brother  of  Hamlet's  father,  the  husband  of  his 
mother,  and  his  King. 

While  these  facts  have  been  suggested  as  helping  to  explain 
Hamlet's  delay,  it  is  most  natural  to  look  upon  them,  especially 
the  last  two,  as  additional  incitements  to  revenge. 

4.  A  sensitive  fear  of  the  Prince  that  the  attainment  of 
the  crown  is  his  real  object,  or  will  seem  to  be. 

5.  A  clear  perception  on  the  part  of  Hamlet  that,  if  he 
shall  kill  the  King,  he  will  be  unable  to  justify  the  act  in  the 
eyes  of  the  Danish  people. 

6.  A  desire  to  expose,  disgrace,  and  dethrone  the  King, 
and  so  punish  him  before  the  world,  and  a  belief  that  this  is 
what  the  Ghost  really  commands. 

All  will  admit  the  force  of  the  first  motive  mentioned, 
Hamlet's  desire  to  obey  this  injunction  of  his  father.  The 
difficulty  lies  solely  in  interpreting  the  command. 

The  second  ground  just  suggested  as  an  explanation  of  Ham- 
let's conduct  is  that  he  has  conscientious  scruples  against  blood- 
revenge  and  an  instinctive  aversion  to  it.  If  we  accept  these 
motives  as  conceivable  and  consistent  with  the  play,  then 
Hamlet  finds  himself  confronted  with  an  intensely  tragic 
dilemma.  The  long-accepted  interpretation  of  his  character 
put  forth  by  Goethe  and  Coleridge,  taken  by  itself,  seems 
deficient  in  dramatic  power.  Professor  Corson  well  asks : 
"  Where  is  the  dramatic  interest  to  come  from,  with  such  an 
irredeemable  do-nothing  for  the  hero  of  the  drama  as  Cole- 
ridge represents  Hamlet  to  be  ?  "  * 

The  opinion  that  Hamlet  is  held  back  from  action  by 
conscientious  scruples  was  forcibly  put  by  a  writer  in  the 
Quarterly  Review  in  1847.  Hamlet  accuses  himself  either  of 

"Bestial  oblivion,  or  some  craven  scruple 
Of  thinking  too  precisely  on  the  event," 

IV,  iv,  40-1. 
1  Introduction  to  Shakespeare,  p.  218. 


166  A.    H.    TOLMAN. 

and  he  seems  to  reveal  his  secret  questionings  of  heart  when 
he  asks  Horatio,  even  after  the  King  has  tried  to  take  his 
life,— 

— "is't  not  perfect  conscience, 
To  quit  him  with  this  arm?"  V,  II,  67-8. 

Loening  has  shown,  I  think,  that  the  context  forbids  us  to 
look  upon  the  line, — 

"Thus  conscience  does  make  cowards  of  us  all." 

Ill,  i,  83. 

as  a  proof  that  conscientious  scruples  keep  Hamlet  from 
acting.  The  line  does  imply,  however,  that  the  Prince  is 
sensitive  to  moral  considerations. 

The  opinion  just  outlined  was  set  forth  in  the  Quarterly 
Review  as  opposed  to  the  explanation  "that  the  thinking  part 
of  Hamlet  predominates  over  the  active";  but  it  is  not  neces- 
sary to  look  upon  the  two  interpretations  as  antagonistic. 
Both  together  may  be  better  than  either  alone. 

A  great  objection  to  the  view  now  before  us  is  that  it 
makes  the  Ghost  assign  to  Hamlet  what  may  fairly  be 
called  an  impossible  task ;  but  is  there  not  a  contradiction 
at  this  point  in  the  play  too  deeply  fixed  to  be  denied  or 
overlooked?  If  Hamlet  determines  at  the  same  time  to 
secure  revenge  and  to  keep  his  mind  untainted,  has  he  not 
adopted  contradictory  principles  of  action,  if  we  give  to  the 
words  "revenge"  and  "taint  not  thy  mind"  their  natural 
meaning?  He  who  sets  before  him  as  his  chosen  task  the 
accomplishment  of  blood-revenge  must  fling  to  the  winds  all 
other  considerations;  he  who  is  determined,  howsoever  he 
pursues  his  course,  not  to  taint  his  mind,  cannot  seek  that 
"wild  justice,"  revenge.  Whether  or  not  Hamlet  clearly 
perceives  the  fact,  may  not  this  inherent  contradiction,  this 
fixed  dilemma,  be  an  important  cause  for  his  delay?  By 
this  explanation,  we  have  an  irresistible  force,  the  passionate 
desire  for  vengeance,  encountering  an  immovable  obstacle  in 


A  VIEW  OF  THE  VIEWS  ABOUT  Hamlet.  167 

Hamlet's  conscience,  made  more  firm  by  the  warning  com- 
mand, "Taint  not  thy  mind."  Is  not  this  the  tragic  conflict? 
In  this  view  Hamlet  is  not  "  the  natural  man,"  neither  is 
he  the  Christian  minister  of  justice.  He  is  "in  a  strait" 
betwixt  the  two,  yielding  now  to  one  impulse,  now  to  another. 
It  is  noticeable  that  both  Christian  and  natural  sentiments 
appear  freely  in  this  play,  and  almost  side  by  side : — 

"Some  say  that  ever  'gainst  that  season  comes 
Wherein  our  Saviour's  birth  is  celebrated, 
The  bird  of  dawning  singeth  all  night  long." 

I,  i,  158-160. 
"  Revenge  his  foul  and  most  unnatural  murder."     I,  v,  25. 

I  am  very  glad  that  Taiue  has  said  so  bluntly  that  Ham- 
let's task  is  simply  "to  go  quietly,  and,  with  premeditation, 
plunge  a  sword  into  a  breast."  How  many  readers  believe 
that  all  the  ethical  presuppositions  of  the  play,  its  entire 
moral  atmosphere,  find  adequate  expression  in  this  doctrine 
of  assassination  ? 

After  a  most  elaborate  argument  on  this  point,  Loening 
accepts  as  his  own  the  following  statement  of  Vischer  : — 

"That  blood-revenge  is  an  unquestioned  and  sacred  duty 
is  absolutely  taken  for  granted  in  this  tragedy;  the  man  who 
opposes  this  opinion  has  no  longer  any  claim  to  understand 
the  play." 

Loening  admits,  however,  that  the  mediaeval  church  looked 
upon  private  revenge  as  sinful.  The  doctrine  of  Purgatory, 
too,  came  from  the  Church.  What  wonder  that  the  Ghost, 
escaping  from  Purgatorial  fires,  speaks  to  Hamlet  words  of 
warning  as  well  as  words  of  incitement?  The  command 
"  Taint  not  thy  mind  "  is  not  in  the  First  Quarto ;  why  is  it 
present  in  the  later  versions?  What  do  these  words  mean,  if 
Hamlet  is  free  to  put  an  end  to  the  King's  life  in  any  way 
that  he  may  choose  ? 

There  can  be  no  doubt,  I  think,  that  Shakespeare  practi- 
cally takes  for  granted  in  his  plays  the  moral  standards  of 


168  A.    H.    TOLMAN. 

his  own  age.  Just  as  we  are  to  explain  from  the  peculiar 
legal  status  of  certain  English  cities  of  Shakespeare's  own 
day  Shy  lock's  words, — 

" .  ...  let  the  danger  light 
Upon  your  charter  and  your  city's  freedom." 

Her.  of  Venice,  IV,  I,  38-9. 

so  we  are  to  interpret  our  play,  on  the  whole,  by  the  moral 
standards  of  Shakespeare's  England.  Francis  de  Belleforest, 
a  French  gentleman,  probably  wrote  his  version  of  the  story 
of  Hamlet  in  1570.  This  version  is  believed  to  be  the  source 
from  which  Shakespeare  took  the  story.  The  earliest  known 
copy  of  the  English  translation  of  Belleforest  bears  the  date 
1608.  Elze  tells  us  that  the  translation  "adheres  throughout 
to  the  original  with  slavish  fidelity,  except  in  two  places" 
that  do  not  concern  us.  Though  Belleforest  distinctly  states 
that  he  is  giving  an  account  of  an  early  time  when  the  Danes 
were  "  barbarous  and  uncivil,"  the  following  passage  from 
the  English  version,  one  of  several  that  could  be  cited,  will 
show  that  the  incompatibility  between  Christianity  and  the 
finest  morality  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  practice  of  blood- 
reveiige  on  the  other,  was  clearly  felt  in  Shakespeare's  day, 
and  could  well  be  suggested  to  him  by  the  very  work  from 
which  he  is  supposed  to  have  taken  this  particular  story  : — 

" .  .  .  .  he  that  will  follow  this  course  must  speak  and  do 
all  things  whatsoever  that  are  pleasing  and  acceptable  to  him 
whom  he  meaneth  to  deceive  .  .  .  .;  for  that  is  rightly  to 
play  and  counterfeit  the  fool,  when  a  man  is  constrained 
to  dissemble  and  kiss  his  hand  whom  in  heart  he  could  wish 
a  hundred  feet  depth  under  the  earth,  so  he  might  never  see 
him  more,  if  it  were  not  a  thing  wholly  to  be  disliked  in  a 
Christian,  who  by  no  means  ought  to  have  a  bitter  gall  or 
desires  infected  with  revenge."  l 

The  beginning  of  Bacon's  essay  on  Revenge  also  helps  to 
disprove  the  opinion  that  in  Shakespeare's  time  blood-revenge 

1  Furness,  u,  p.  95. 


A  VIEW  OF  THE  VIEWS  ABOUT  Hamlet.  169 

cannot  possibly  have  been  looked  upon  as  an  unworthy  thing. 
The  essay  opens  with  these  words :  "  Revenge  is  a  kind  of 
wild  justice,  which  the  more  man's  nature  runs  to,  the  more 
ought  law  to  weed  it  out." 

Moreover,  the  Prince  can  in  no  way  bring  the  King  to  any 
sort  of  judicial  duel,  or  judgment  of  God,  but  must  kill  him 
treacherously,  must  stab  him  in  the  back,  if  not  literally  at 
least  practically.  This  fact  would  make  actual  blood-revenge 
very  distasteful  to  one  possessing  real  fineness  of  feeling. 
What  wonder  if  the  warning  cry  rings  in  Hamlet's  ears, 
"  Howsoever  thou  pursuest  this  act,  taint  not  thy  mind  !" 

The  view  that  Hamlet  is  held  back  from  acting  by  "  the 
secret  voice  of  conscience,  and  the  shrinking  of  a  delicate 
soul  from  an  assassination  in  cold  blood "  is  supported  by 
Eichardson  l  and  Ulrici,  by  passages  in  the  earlier  writings 
of  Hudson,  and  by  the  French  critics  MSzieres  and  Cour- 
daveaux.  The  last  writer  says :  "  Seek,  outside  of  this 
explanation,  one  that  explains  everything,  and  you  will  seek 
in  vain." 

Some  commentators  believe  that  Hamlet's  fear  that  the 
crown  shall  seem  to  be  his  object  is  an  important  reason  for 
his  delay ;  but,  though  plausible  in  itself,  the  position  hardly 
seems  to  be  supported  by  the  language  of  the  play ;  certainly 
we  cannot  give  to  the  cause  suggested  a  prominent  place. 

The  most  important  theory  of  this  drama  that  has  been 
put  forward  in  recent  years  explains  Hamlet's  conduct  entirely 
from  the  nature  of  his  task.  According  to  this  view,  his 
mission  is  to  depose  and  disgrace  the  King,  and  thus  set 
matters  right  before  the  world,  not  merely  to  put  an  end  to 
his  life.  The  adulterer,  murderer,  and  usurper  must  taste 
the  full  bitterness  of  a  felon's  death.  This  theory,  suggested 
by  Ziegler  in  1803,  put  with  great  force  by  Klein  in  1846, 
and  accepted  by  L.  Schipper  in  1862,  was  given  full  and 

1  The  first  edition  of  Richardson's  Essays  appeared  in  1775.  Furness 
cites  the  edition  of  1797. 


170  A.    H.   TOLMAN. 

adequate  expression  by  Karl  Werder  in  1875.     Hudson  and 
Professor  Corson  accept  this  general  position. 

I  will  let  Werder  present  his  own  case.     He  says  : — 

"I  deny,  first  of  all,  ....  that  it  is  possible  for  Hamlet  to 
dare  to  do  what  the  critics  ....  almost  unanimously  require 
of  him.  .  .  .  The  situation  of  things,  the  force  of  circum- 
stances, the  nature  of  his  task,  directly  forbid  it.  ...  We 
are  in  the  secret,  we  sit,  as  the  public,  in  the  council  of 
the  gods.  But  the  Danes  do  not  know  that  Claudius  is  the 
murderer  of  his  brother,  and  are  never  to  be  convinced  of  it 
if  Hamlet  slays  the  King,  and  then  appeals  for  his  vindica- 
tion to  a  private  communication  which  a  ghost  has  made  to 
him.  .  .  . 

"But  what  now  has  Hamlet  in  truth  to  do?  What  is  his 
real  task?  A  very  sharply  defined  duty.  .  .  .  Not  to  crush 
the  King  at  once,  ....  but  to  bring  him  to  confession,  to 
unmask,  and  convict  him  :  this  is  his  first,  nearest,  inevitable 
duty.  As  things  stand,  truth  and  justice  can  be  known  only 
from  one  mouth,  the  mouth  of  the  crowned  criminal,  .... 
or  they  remain  hidden  and  buried  till  the  last  day.  This  is 
the  point !  Herein  lie  the  terrors  of  this  tragedy, — its  enig- 
matical horror,  its  inexorable  misery  !  The  encoffined  secresy 
of  the  unprovable  crime:  this  is  the  subterranean  spring, 
whence  flows  its  power  to  awaken  fear  and  sympathy.  .  .  . 

"Killing  the  King  before  the  proof  is  adduced  would  be, 
not  killing  the  guilty,  but  killing  the  proof;  it  would  be,  not 
the  murder  of  the  criminal,  but  the  murder  of  Justice  !  .  .  . 

"  Upon  the  one  side,  a  well-defended  fortress,  and  without, 
a  single  man,  who  is  to  take  it,  he  alone.  So  stands  Hamlet 
confronting  his  task  !  " 

One  advantage  of  Werder's  view  is  that  what  most  students 
regard  as  Hamlet's  pretence  of  madness  is  at  once  adequately 
motived.  This  device  enables  him  "to  give  some  vent  to 
what  is  raging  within  him"  without  awakening  suspicion; 
and  possibly,  "should  any  favorable  opportunity  offer  itself," 
"more  active  operations  against  the  enemy  than  would  be 
permitted  to  a  sane  man  "  may  be  tolerated  in  one  supposed 
to  be  mad. 


A    VIEW   OF  THE   VIEWS   ABOUT   Hamlet.  171 

This  view  also  exalts  and  ennobles  our  conception  of  Ham- 
let's character.  All  the  familiar  charges  against  him  fall  to 
the  ground.  The  Prince  whom  we  all  love  and  pity  now 
claims  also  our  unqualified  admiration.  As  good  and  wise 
as  he  is  ill-fated,  he  stands  forth  almost  without  "spot,  or 
wrinkle,  or  any  such  thing."  The  drama  becomes  almost 
entirely  a  tragedy  of  Fate,  not  a  tragedy  of  Character. 

All  must  grant,  too,  that  the  situation  and  the  progress  of 
the  action,  as  Werder  outlines  them,  are  intensely  tragic.  So 
deeply  do  I  feel  this  that  I  have  often  wished  that  Shake- 
speare might  have  written  this  Hamlet  also.  Says  Hudson, 
in  presenting  this  conception  of  the  play  : — 

"  The  very  plan  of  the  drama,  as  I  understand  it,  is  to 
crush  all  the  intellectual  fragrance  out  of  Hamlet,  between  a 
necessity  and  an  impossibility  of  acting.  The  tremendous 
problem,  the  terrible  dilemma  which  he  has  to  grapple  with, 
is  one  that  Providence  alone  can  solve,  as  Providence  does 
solve  it  at  the  last."  * 

But  I  must  renounce  Werder  and  all  his  works.  I  cannot 
think  that  the  natural  impression  which  the  drama  as  we 
have  it  makes  upon  an  unprejudiced  reader  is  consistent  with 
this  new  explanation. 

Werder  does  not  give  the  natural  interpretation  to  the  first 
commission  of  the  Ghost,  the  demand  for  revenge.  He  makes 
up  for  this,  so  to  speak,  by  forcing  the  meaning  of  the  second 
command  also.  To  revenge  does  not  naturally  mean  "  to  bring 
to  confession,  to  unmask,  and  convict";  and  the  words  "Taint 
not  thy  mind  "lire  most  naturally  interpreted  as  an  incitement 
to  Hamlet  to  obey  scrupulously  the  promptings  of  his  con- 
science, not  as  a  warning  to  guard  his  reputation. 

In  spite  of  an  amount  of  soliloquy  which  is  unexampled 
in  dramatic  literature,  this  theory  is  obliged  to  assume  that 
Hamlet  fails  to  express  the  one  purpose  which  fills  his  mind. 
After  explaining  what  seems  to  him  to  be  the  real  situation 

1  School  edition  of  Hamlet,  p.  21. 
2 


172  A.   H.   TOLMAN. 

when  Hamlet  discovers  the  King  at  prayer,  Werder  says : 
"  Hamlet,  it  is  true,  does  not  himself  say  this, — no !  But  the 
state  of  the  case  says  it  instead."  This  form  of  speech  is 
significant  of  Werder's  entire  method.  He  is  constantly 
explaining  to  us  his  own  view  of  "  the  state  of  the  case  " ;  he 
makes  little  effort  to  prove  that  Hamlet  holds  the  same  view. 
The  Prince  is  mistaken,  then,  when  he  taunts  himself  with* 
"unpacking  his  heart."  This  he  cannot  do;  at  every  point 
"the  state  of  the  case"  must  be  called  in  to  speak  for  him. 
It  must  be  admitted,  though,  that  the  words  of  the  hero  when 
he  comes  upon  the  praying  King,  are  looked  upon  by  very 
few  persons  as  a  wholly  truthful  expression  of  his  mind. 

What  Hamlet  actually  says  in  his  soliloquies,  also,  is 
decidedly  at  variance  with  what  "the  state  of  the  case" 
is  supposed  to  be  saying  for  him.  Werder's  interpretation 
of  the  first  part  of  the  soliloquy  beginning  "O,  what  a 
rogue  and  peasant  slave  am  I!"  (II,  n,  576)  is,  that  the  hero 
relieves  his  agony  by  " falling  out  v/ith  himself"  and  uttering 
unjust  reproaches.  Concerning  Hamlet's  sharp  arraignment 
of  himself  after  he  learns  the  destination  of  the  troops  of 
Fortinbras,  Professor  Corson  says  with  admirable  frankness : 
"  It  must  not  be  explained  on  the  theory  of  Hamlet's  indis- 
position to  action,  much  as  it  may  appear  to  support  that 
theory." 

Dramatic  soliloquy  is  largely  a  conventional  device  for 
informing  the  audience  concerning  the  state  of  mind  of  the 
speaker.  In  most  places  where  Shakespeare  represents  his 
characters  as  thus  thinking  aloud  they  certainly  would  not 
naturally  do  so  in  real  life.  If  we  can  explain  away  a  mass 
of  such  utterances,  and  suppose  that  the  solitary  speaker  is 
systematically  untrue  to  his  real  thought,  then  the  interpreta- 
tion of  dramatic  soliloquy  becomes  not  merely  a  fine  art,  but 
one  so  superfine  as  to  be  altogether  beyond  the  reach  of  merely 
human  powers. 

The  play  before  the  King  may,  apparently,  achieve  two 
results  if  entirely  successful :  it  may  convince  Hamlet  of  the 


A  VIEW  OF  THE  VIEWS  ABOUT  Hamlet.  173 

Ghost's  integrity  and  of  the  truth  of  his  story ;  and  it  may 
surprise  the  King  into  some  kind  of  public  confession  (II,  n, 
617-21,  627-8;  III,  n,  85-7).  Those  inclined  to  theWerder 
view  naturally  consider  that  the  central  purpose  of  this  device 
is  to  obtain  some  sort  of  confession  from  the  King.  This 
result  is  not  secured,  yet  Hamlet  seems  to  regard  his  experi- 
ment as  highly  successful.  He  has  been  more  concerned  in 
satisfying  his  own  doubts  than  in  inducing  the  King  to  confess. 

I  cannot  believe,  however,  that  the  Prince  has  set  either  of 
these  purposes  before  him  in  any  genuine,  earnest  way.  Both 
are  pretences.  He  has  never  really  questioned  the  honesty  of 
the  Ghost,  and  he  has  little  hope  of  any  open  confession  from 
the  King.  The  play  is  hardly  more  than  a  plausible  excuse 
for  doing  nothing. 

Also,  if  we  accept  the  view  of  Werder,  the  Ghost  does  not 
seem  to  have  a  particle  of  justification  for  saying  to  Hamlet, 
when  he  is  with  his  mother, — 

"  this  visitation 
Is  but  to  whet  thy  almost  blunted  purpose." 

Ill,  iv,  110-1. 

Loening  insists  with  reason  that  Shakespeare  would  not 
have  allowed  the  King  to  meet  death  until  after  he  had  been 
branded  before  the  world,  if  this  were  looked  upon  as  the 
punishment  which  justice  demanded,  and  if  this  had  been 
enjoined  by  supernatural  visitations. 

There  is  a  strong  presumption  against  a  theory  which  asks 
us  to  believe  that  Goethe  and  Coleridge  misunderstood  this 
play  completely,  and  that  they  have  been  followed  in  their 
error  by  the  great  mass  of  the  students  of  Shakespeare. 
Everything  which  they  said  about  Hamlet  is  to  be  considered 
false,  and  pretty  much  everything  which  they  did  not  say  is 
to  be  accepted  as  true.  Of  course,  a  disputed  question  cannot 
be  settled  by  an  appeal  to  authority ;  but  there  is  a  weighty 
presumption  against  the  new  view.  Werder  himself  unwit- 
tingly recognizes  that  a  heavy  burden  of  proof  rests  upon  him 


174  A.    H.   TOLMAN. 

when  he  says :  "  That  this  point  for  a  century  long  should 
never  have  been  seen,  is  the  most  incomprehensible  thing  that 
has  ever  happened  in  aesthetic  criticism  from  the  very  begin- 
ning of  its  existence."  We  have  seen,  however,  that  there 
were  Werderites  before  Werder. 

Baumgart  says  with  great  cogency  : — 

"  Where  does  the  Ghost  or  Hamlet  speak  of  punishment 
merely,  and  of  the  necessity  of  a  previous  unmasking  ?  It  is 
revenge  alone  that  the  Ghost  calls  for,  and  swift  revenge  that 
Hamlet  promises.  .  .  .  That  the  conviction  wrought  by  the 
play  is  to  lead  to  any  measure  looking  to  the  public  arraign- 
ment of  the  King,  there  is  not  a  word  to  intimate.  There 
is  nothing  in  the  whole  piece  which  hints  at  any  plan  of 
Hamlet's,  or  at  any  intention  to  form  one." 

The  popularity  of  Werder's  theory  seems  to  me  to  be  paral- 
lel to  that  of  certain  Confessions  and  Creeds.  These  have 
often  been  widely  accepted  because  more  logical  and  self-con- 
sistent than  the  very  Scriptures  which  suggested  them,  and 
which  they  sought  to  explain. 

III.   "NoR  CONTRIVE  AGAINST  THY  MOTHER  AUGHT." 
The  third  command  of  the  Ghost  must  now  be  considered : — 

"  nor  let  thy  soul  contrive 
Against  thy  mother  aught :  leave  her  to  heaven 
And  to  those  thorns  that  in  her  bosom  lodge, 
To  prick  and  sting  her."  I,  v,  85-8. 

If  we  try  to  make  this  command  prominent  in  explaining 
Hamlet's  course,  the  following  grounds  for  his  inaction  suggest 
themselves : — 

1.  A  desire  and  purpose  to  obey  this  injunction  of  his 
father. 

2.  Affection  for  his  mother,  and  a  desire  to  save  her  from 
the  shame  of  exposure. 

So  far  as  I  know,  Tschischwitz,  the  man  of  many  conso- 
nants, is  the  only  critic  who  has  given  a  central  place  to  these 


A  VIEW  OF  THE  VIEWS  ABOUT  Hamlet.  175 

motives  as  really  determining  Hamlet's  conduct.     I  quote  his 
comment  upon  the  following  passage  : — 

"O,  most  wicked  speed,  to  post 
With  such  dexterity  to  incestuous  sheets  ! 
It  is  not  nor  it  cannot  come  to  good  : 
But  break,  my  heart ;  for  I  must  hold  my  tongue." 

I,  H,  156-9. 

"Observe  well  that  Hamlet  is  forced  by  his  piety  to 
maintain  this  silence  in  presence  of  the  courtiers  under  all 
circumstances,  even  after  the  appearance  of  the  Ghost.  It  is 
not  until  his  heart  really  breaks  that  he  breaks  this  silence 
also,  and  gives  Horatio  permission  to  proclaim  what  has 
happened." 

Some  other  commentators  look  upon  this  line  of  argument 
as  having  some  force.  Weiss  has  said  : — 

"  The  question  of  revenge  becomes  more  difficult  to  settle, 
especially  as  it  involves  widowing  his  mother;  and  it  is 
noticeable  that  the  father  himself,  who  afterwards  deplored 
Hamlet's  irresolution,  had  previously  made  suggestions  to 
him  [rather,  imposed  a  command  upon  him]  which  hampered 
his  action  by  constraining  him  to  feel  how  complicated  the 
situation  was." 

In  point  of  fact,  however,  to  prove  the  King  guilty  of 
the  murder  of  his  brother  would  not  necessarily  involve  the 
exposure  of  the  Queen.  The  Prince  is  simply  forbidden 
to  take  vengeance  upon  his  mother.  Indeed,  in  the  First 
Quarto,  where  the  situation  is  the  same  as  in  the  later  form 
of  the  play,  Hamlet  implores  the  Queen : — 

"  Mother,  but  assist  me  in  revenge, 
And  in  his  death  your  infamy  shall  die." 

The  Queen  replies  :— 

"  Hamlet,  I  vow  by  that  majesty 
That  knows  our  thoughts  and  looks  into  our  hearts, 
I  will  conceal,  consent,  and  do  my  best, 
What  stratagem  soe'er  thou  shalt  devise." 


176  A.    H.   TOLMAN. 


IV.   THE  TEACES  IN  "HAMLET"  OF  AN  OLDER  PLAY. 

In  attempting  to  interpret  Hamlet  by  any  explanation  or 
combination  of  explanations  derived  from  a  study  of  the 
drama  itself,  some  difficulties  and  discrepancies  remain  to 
trouble  the  student.  In  the  present  division  of  this  paper 
and  in  the  following  one,  we  shall  take  up  certain  considera- 
tions that  are  not  drawn  from  the  play  itself. 

The  noble  words  of  King  Thoas  in  Goethe's  Iphigenie 
almost  make  us  forget  that  he  sacrifices  captive  strangers 
upon  the  altar.  Goethe  accepted  the  old  story,  but  he  has 
refined  the  character  of  Thoas;  hence,  while  it  is  assumed 
that  the  King  acts  barbarously,  he  speaks  nobly. 

May  there  not  be  some  clashing  of  this  sort  in  our  Hamlet, 
since  the  play  is  based  upon  a  crude  old  tale  of  blood  and 
revenge  ?  Shakespeare  was  also  embarrassed  by  the  fact  that 
the  theater-going  public  had  already  a  definite  conception 
of  the  story  of  the  Prince  and  of  his  character. 

As  already  indicated,  an  account  of  the  life  of  Hamlet 
appeared  in  a  French  prose  work  by  one  Belleforest,  His- 
toires  Tragiques,  and  was  written  in  1570.  The  Elizabethan 
Hamlet  is  believed  to  be  based  upon  this  form  of  the  story. 
The  tale  is  known  to  go  back  as  far  as  the  Historiae  Dani- 
cae  of  Saxo  Grammaticus,  who  wrote  about  1200.  Because 
Hamlet's  phrase  to  Polonius,  "old  men  ....  have  a  plentiful 
lack  of  wit"  (II,  n,  199,  202),  seems  to  Loening  to  have 
been  suggested  by  an  expression  in  Saxo,  this  critic  concludes 
that  Shakespeare  was  acquainted  with  that  version  also.  In 
Belleforest,  Hamlet  kills  his  uncle,  and  then  goes  to  England, 
whence  he  returns  "  with  two  wives." 

Beginning  with  1589  we  find  numerous  allusions  to  an 
English  play  upon  the  story  of  Hamlet.  This  work  has 
been  lost.  It  seems  to  have  been  a  crude  tragedy  of  blood 
and  vengeance.  Unlike  the  story  in  Belleforest,  but  like  that 
in  Shakespeare,  this  tragedy  had  a  ghost.  The  cry  of  the 
Ghost  in  this  lost  play,  "  Hamlet,  revenge  ! "  is  often  quoted 


A  VIEW  OF  THE  VIEWS  ABOUT  Hamlet.  177 

by  writers  of  the  time.  A  few  students  have  conjectured  that 
this  drama  was  a  youthful  production  of  Shakespeare;  a 
German  scholar,  Sarrazin,  is  confident  that  Thomas  Kyd  was 
its  author.1  The  importance  for  us  of  this  vanished  play  con- 
sists in  the  proof  which  it  furnishes  that  a  distinct  conception 
of  the  character  of  Hamlet  and  of  the  story  of  his  life  had 
possession  of  the  stage  before  Shakespeare  took  up  the  sub- 
ject. Dr.  Latham  goes  so  far  as  to  say  that  "  long  before  it 
came  under  the  cognizance  of  Shakespeare "  the  character  of 
Hamlet  was  "  as  strongly  stamped  and  stereotyped  "  as  were 
those  of  Medea,  Orestes,  and  Achilles  upon  the  Greek  stage. 
As  a  practical  application  of  this  doctrine  he  argues  that  "the 
pretendedness "  of  Hamlet's  madness  is  as  unquestionable 
"  as  the  reality  of  that  of  Orestes." 

In  1603  was  published  the  first  version  of  our  Hamlet,  the 
so-called  First  Quarto.  This  is  somewhat  more  than  half  as 
long  as  the  later  play.  The  outline  of  the  action  is  substan- 
tially the  same  as  that  which  we  know ;  but  the  Queen,  as 
already  indicated,  repents  of  her  sin,  and  offers  to  assist 
Hamlet  in  securing  revenge.  Strangely  enough,  the  First 
Quarto  has  been  considered  by  some  competent  critics  to  be 
better  fitted  for  stage-presentation  than  the  later  versions. 

The  text  is  the  same  for  the  most  part  in  the  Second 
Quarto  of  1604  and  in  the  First  Folio  of  1623;  these  give 
the  play  in  the  form  with  which  we  are  all  familiar.2  As 
compared  with  the  First  Quarto,  these  versions  make  only 
slight  changes  in  the  story;  but  the  astonishing  fulness  of 
thought  and  poetry  which  distinguishes  this  play  appears  for 
the  first  time  in  the  Second  Quarto. 

That  the  gradual  development  of  this  drama  into  its  present 
form  might  easily  give  rise  to  contradictions  in  the  final  text 
will  be  clear  if  we  look  for  a  moment,  just  by  way  of  illus- 
tration, at  the  question  of  Hamlet's  age. 

1  Thomas  Kyd  und  sein  Kreis,  Berlin,  1892. 

8  Victor's  parallel  edition  of  the  three  texts  of  the  play  is  heartily  com- 
mended (Marburg,  1891). 


178  A.    H.    TOLMAN. 

There  is  nothing  in  the  First  Quarto  which  requires  us  to 
believe  that  "young  Hainlet"  is  over  nineteen  or  twenty  years 
of  age.  The  skull  of  Yorick,  who  played  with  him  when  he 
was  a  child,  has  been  in  the  ground  only  "  this  dozen  year." 
In  the  later  text  we  learn  that  Hamlet's  age  is  thirty  (V,  I, 
153-177);  and  that  Yorick's  skull  has  "lain  in  the  earth 
three  and  twenty  years."  In  spite  of  this,  however,  many 
things  remain  in  the  accepted  text  which  seem  to  make 
Hamlet  a  youth  of  not  more  than  twenty :  among  these  are 
his  wish  to  return  as  a  student  to  Wittenberg,  the  election  of 
Claudius  as  king  without  the  bestowal  of  any  consideration 
upon  the  claim  of  Hamlet,  the  probable  age  of  his  mother 
when  she  yields  to  guilty  passion,  and  especially  the  language 
of  Laertes  when  he  speaks  to  Ophelia  concerning  the  Prince. 
Mr.  Wilson  Barrett,  the  actor,  thinks  that  the  age  was  given 
as  thirty  for  the  convenience  of  some  actor  who  was  "  incapa- 
ble of  looking  the  youthful  prince."1  Many  scholars,  how- 
ever, accept  on  this  point  the  opinion  expressed  by  Dr. 
Furnivall : 2 — 

"  I  look  on  it  as  certain,  that  when  Shakespeare  began  the 
play  [and  while  he  was  composing  the  version  preserved  for 
us  in  the  First  Quarto],  he  conceivd  Hamlet  as  quite  a 
young  man  [following  the  accepted  story  and  the  tradition 
of  the  stage].  But  as  the  play  grew,  as  greater  weight  of 
reflection,  of  insight  into  character,  of  knowledge  of  life,  &c., 
were  wanted,  Shakespeare  necessarily  and  naturally  made 
Hamlet  a  formd  man;  and,  by  the  time  that  he  got  to  the 
Grave-diggers'  scene  [in  writing  the  version  of  the  Second 
Quarto],  told  us  the  Prince  was  30, — the  right  age  for  him 
then.  .  .  .  The  two  parts  of  the  play  are  inconsistent  on  this 
main  point  in  Hamlet's  state." 3 

Perhaps  it  ought  to  be  said  here  that  several  other  minor 
discrepancies  have  been  noted  in  the  play.  It  is  impossible, 

1Lippincotfs  Magazine,  vol.  45. 

*  The  writer  of  this  article  is  responsible  for  the  passages  in  brackets : 
these  bring  out  more  explicitly  what  I  suppose  to  be  the  thought  of  Dr. 
Furnivall. 

3Furness,  Hamlet,  i,  p.  391. 


A  VIEW  OF  THE  VIEWS  ABOUT  Hamlet.  179 

for  example,  that  Horatio  has  been  at  Elsinore  some  two 
months  before  he  meets  Hamlet  (I,  n,  138, 161-176).  Again, 
it  is  four  months  after  the  death  of  Hamlet's  father  when  the 
mad  Ophelia  sports  with  wild  flowers.  Did  the  dead  king 
take  a  nap  in  a  Danish  orchard  in  mid-winter?  and  was  it 
his  u  custom  always  of  the  afternoon  *'  ?  The  fact  that  Hamlet 
knows  at  the  close  of  Act  III  that  he  is  to  be  sent  to  Eng- 
land (III,  iv,  200)  is  very  puzzling.  The  King  has  only  just 
decided  upon  that  course  (III,  in,  4),  and  there  seems  to  have 
been  no  opportunity  for  the  hero  to  get  this  information. 
Two  months  after  Laertes  left  home  Hamlet  says, — "  I  have 
of  late  ....  forgone  all  custom  of  exercises  "  (II,  n,  306-8) ; 
about  ten  days  or  two  weeks  later,  according  to  Daniel's 
estimate  of  the  time,  the  Prince  declares  to  Horatio,  while 
speaking  of  the  proposed  fencing-bout, — "  Since  he  [Laertes] 
went  into  France,  I  have  been  in  continual  practice  "  (V,  n, 
220-1). 

The  explanation  of  Dr.  Furnivall  concerning  the  age  of 
the  hero  suggests  that  some  more  central  difficulties  in  the 
play  may  perhaps  be  explained  in  a  similar  way.  Are  there 
in  the  drama  as  a  whole  unconformable  strata?  Sarrazin 
and  others,  among  the  Germans,  Kenny  in  England,  and 
Professor  March  and  Mr.  John  Corbin  in  this  country  have 
made  use  of  this  method  of  explanation.  Perhaps  the  last- 
named  writer  is  the  one  who  goes  farthest.  He  says : — 

"Shakspere's  happiest  additions  to  the  old  tragedy  of  blood 
were  precisely  contradictory  to  its  vital  structure  as  a  drama. 
Wherever  Hamlet  is  in  action  his  character  dates  back  to  the 
lost  play :  the  Shaksperean  element  has  to  do  almost  exclu- 
sively with  the  reflective,  imaginative,  humane  traits  of  his 
portraiture."  "  When  Hamlet  is  in  action  he  is  to  be  judged 
by  the  standards  of  the  tragedy  of  blood  and  revenge.  It  is 
only  in  his  speech  and  manner  that  the  Shaksperean  concep- 
tion shines  forth.  In  this  fact  lies  the  root  of  most  of  the 
disagreements  among  the  modern  critics  and  actors."  l 

1  The  Elizabethan  Hamlet.    Scribners,  1895,  pp.  49,  84. 


180  A.    H.   TOLMAN. 

The  fact  that  the  old  tragedy  delighted  its  audiences  with 
these  horrors  may  well  be  the  main  reason  why  the  six 
principal  characters,  together  with  Rosencrantz  and  Guilden- 
stern,  are  killed  during  the  play, — five  of  them,  if  we  include 
Polonius,  meeting  death  before  our  eyes.  The  easy  fashion 
in  which  the  Prince  consigns  to  destruction  his  former  school 
fellows,  Rosencrantz  and  Guildenstern,  may  come  from  the 
old  play.  Perhaps  the  difficulty  in  finding  a  motive  for 
Hamlet's  action  in  pretending  madness  admits  in  part  a  simi- 
lar explanation.  In  the  story  as  given  by  Belleforest  he 
feigns  madness  because  "perceiving  himself  to  be  in  danger 
of  his  life."  Victor  Hugo  interprets  our  play  in  the  same 
way,  but  where  in  the  text  does  it  appear  that  this  is  the 
motive?  May  it  not  be  that  the  feigning  of  insanity  is  a 
feature  which  Shakespeare  accepts  from  the  traditional  story 
and  from  the  older  play,  but  of  which  he  makes  little  con- 
structive use  ? 

Now  for  the  bearing  of  all  this  upon  our  main  topic, 
the  reasons  for  Hamlet's  dilatoriness.  The  above  discussion 
naturally  suggests  that  Shakespeare,  while  retaining  the  crude 
story  of  revenge  that  was  fixed  in  the  public  mind,  gradually 
deepened  and  refined  the  character  of  Hamlet  until  it  clashed 
with  that  story.  Conscientious  scruples  against  blood-revenge, 
I  admit,  are  utterly  foreign  to  the  original  tale.  In  spite  of 
changes  "and  additions,  it  may  well  be  that  the  dramatist  was 
so  hampered  by  the  fixed  outlines  of  the  accepted  story  that 
he  was  prevented  from  motiving  the  inactivity  of  the  Prince 
so  fully  as  he  could  otherwise  have  done.  The  energetic 
Hamlet  retained  from  the  old  play  accords  but  badly  with 
the  reflective,  halting  hero  of  a  more  intellectual  age :  the 
new  wine  bursts  the  old  bottles. 

The  loss  of  the  pre-Shakespearean  Hamlet  makes  it  im- 
possible to  say  just  how  much  weight  should  be  given  to  this 
line  of  argument.  Because  our  play  departs  very  freely  and 
very  far  from  the  story  as  given  in  Belleforest,  Loening  does 


A  VIEW  OF  THE  VIEWS  ABOUT  Hamlet.  181 

not  believe  that  Shakespeare  was  really  hampered  by  the  old 
tale  and  the  already  existing  play. 

Y.   HAMLET  AS  THE  MOUTH-PIECE  OF  SHAKESPEAKE. 

All  lovers  of  Shakespeare  must  admit  the  force  of  these 
words  from  Kreyssig,  a  German  critic  :  "  From  the  rich 
troop  of  his  hercos,  Shakespeare  has  chosen  Hamlet  as  the 
exponent,  to  the  spectators  and  to  posterity,  of  all  that  lay 
nearest  to  his  own  heart."  The  American  poet-critic,  Jones 
Very,  speaks  of  "  the  tendency  of  Shakespeare  to  overact  this 
particular  part  of  Hamlet,  and  thus  give  it  an  obscurity  from 
too  close  a  connection  with  his  own  mind."  l 

Though  Rumelin  goes  too  far  in  this  particular  direction, 
the  following  words  concerning  Shakespeare's  tendency  to 
make  Hamlet  his  own  mouth-piece  seem  to  me  to  have 
much  force : — 

"  We  must  not  fail  to  see  that  this  use  of  the  legend  enters 
into  the  dramatic  subject  and  into  the  course  of  the  action  as 
a  somewhat  foreign  and  disturbing  element;  we  must  per- 
ceive that  the  legend,  whose  essential  features  the  play  still 
keeps,  is  in  itself  little  fitted  for  the  interpolation  of  an  ele- 
ment so  subjective  and  so  modern." 

Let  us  look  at  some  specific  passages  in  the  play  that  are 
evidently  the  personal  utterances  of  Shakespeare.  The  refer- 
ence to  the  child-actors,  added  in  the  First  Folio,  is  clearly  a 
"  local  hit "  ;  it  comes  from  the  dramatist,  not  from  Hamlet 
and  Rosencrantz  (II,  n,  353-379).  The  character  of  Osric 
is  undoubtedly  a  satire  on  certain  affectations  of  Shake- 
speare's own  day.  That  Shakespeare  himself  is  speaking 
when  Hamlet  instructs  the  players  in  the  art  of  acting  seems 
certain.  Though  Loening  defends  it  ingeniously,  the  passage 
has  no  vital  connection  with  the  plot.  The  real  reason  why 
we  have  the  lines  is  that  Shakespeare  had  some  things  to  say 

1  Poems  and  Essays,  p.  62. 


182  A.    H.    TOLMAN. 

concerning  the  proper  carriage,  gesture,  and  elocution  of  an 
actor ;  and  no  man  will  ever  know  how  much  strutting  arid 
bellowing  the  world  has  escaped  because  of  this  simple  text- 
book of  histrionics,  known  and  read  of  all  men. 

The  Sonnets  of  Shakespeare,  in  which  he  "  unlocked  his 
heart,"  echo  with  striking  distinctness  some  of  the  complaints 
of  the  melancholy  Prince  of  Denmark.  The  connection  is 
especially  marked  between  the  sixty-sixth  Sonnet  and  some 
portions  of  the  soliloquy  beginning  "To  be  or  not  to  be." 

In  any  performance  of  Hamlet,  that  pearl,  the  Grave- 
Diggers'  scene  is  sure  to  be  presented  (V,  I,  1-240) ;  but  it 
has  no  dramatic  justification, — that  is,  the  action  is  in  no 
way  advanced.  These  are  the  deep  musings  of  Shakespeare's 
own  mind  and  heart,  and  we  do  not  estimate  them  according 
to  their  purely  dramatic  value. 

Our  love  for  this  play  springs  largely  from  the  fact  that 
Shakespeare,  disregarding  strictly  dramatic  considerations,  has 
given  freely  to  Hamlet  the  charm,  the  warmth,  and  the  bound- 
lessness of  his  own  nature. 

The  bearing  of  this  discussion  upon  our  central  inquiry 
may  be  stated  as  follows :  our  impression  of  Hamlet's  dila- 
toriness  is  intensified  by  his  long  soliloquies  and  by  his 
abundant  comments  upon  the  various  problems  of  life ;  but 
these  utterances  are  in  part  the  personal  outpourings  of 
Shakespeare  himself,  not  called  for  by  either  the  plot  of  the 
piece  or  the  characterization  :  "  the  hands  are  the  hands  of 
Esau,"  but  the  voice  is  the  voice  of  Jacob. 

CONCLUSION. 

The  Teutonic  mind  naturally  looks  upon  the  portrayal 
of  character  as  the  real  purpose  of  the  drama,  and  as  "  its 
own  excuse."  It  is  safe  to  say  that  Shakespeare  has  given  in 
Hamlet  absolutely  the  ultimate  example  of  character-portrayal 
in  drama.  The  completeness  with  which  the  nature  and  dis- 
position of  the  Prince,  his  entire  mental  and  moral  being,  are 


A  VIEW  OF  THE  VIEWS  ABOUT  Hamlet.  183 

put  before  us,  is  something  which  we  are  accustomed  to  find 
only  in  the  wide-ranging,  loosely  constructed  novel,  not  in 
the  intense,  concentrated,  and  sharply  limited  drama. 

Dramatic  criticism  is  inclined  to  insist  that  only  those 
characteristics  of  the  hero  should  be  made  prominent  which 
really  influence  the  course  of  the  action ;  and  that  these 
characteristics  should  be  unmistakable.  According  to  this 
standard  Hamlet  is  certainly  faulty.  That  the  play  is 
marked  by  an  excess  of  monologue  seems  to  be  recognized 
by  the  omission  from  the  First  Folio  of  some  of  the  utter- 
ances of  the  hero,  including  the  sermon  on  drunkenness  (I, 
IV,  17-38),  and  even  the  powerful  soliloquy  upon  seeing 
the  army  of  Fortinbras  (IV,  IV,  32-66;  11.  9-31  are  also 
omitted).  Certain  features  in  the  management  of  the  action 
have  also  been  pronounced  by  Goethe  and  others  to  be  "  ex- 
tremely faulty."  But  it  is  not  especially  because  of  its 
defects  that  the  world  is  not  likely  to  see  another  Hamlet: 
its  marvellous  excellences  are  a  more  conclusive  reason. 
None  but  himself  can  bend  the  bow  of  Odysseus. 

Before  the  reader  decides  which  one  of  the  possible  reasons 
for  Hamlet's  inactivity  he  will  adopt  in  making  up  his  own 
theory  of  the  play,  let  me  ask  him,  "  Can  you  not  accept  a 
good  number  of  them  ? "  In  many  cases,  I  think,  they  are 
not  exclusive  and  contradictory,  but  should  be  looked  upon 
as  complementary  and  harmonious.  The  large  number  of 
these  reasons  of  itself  makes  it  clear  why  there  are  so  many 
opinions  concerning  the  character  of  the  hero.  One  critic 
accents  one  motive;  another,  another.  Superficially  their 
views  may  seem  to  themselves  and  others  to  be  irreconcilable, 
while  at  bottom  they  may  be  largely  at  one. 

Not  only  is  it  hardly  possible  for  two  critics  to  agree  upon 
the  same  interpretation  of  the  play;  one  cannot  altogether 
agree  with  himself  for  two  successive  readings.  The  con- 
siderations involved  are  so  numerous  that  one  is  hardly  able 
to  give  due  weight  to  all  of  them ;  it  is  inevitable  that  one 
should  be  somewhat  at  the  mercy  of  his  mood. 


184  A.    H.    TOLMAN. 

At  my  present  stage  of  development,  my  own  theory 
as  to  the  reasons  for  Hamlet's  dilatoriness  is  somewhat  as 
follows  : — I  accept  the  first  three  grounds  for  Hamlet's  delay 
indicated  under  the  first  general  division  of  this  paper,  namely : 
an  excessive  tendency  to  reflection,  weakness  of  will,  and  es- 
pecially a  melancholy  temperament  and  extreme  sensitiveness. 
I  find  myself  varying  in  the  degree  of  emphasis  which  I  give  to 
these  different  factors,  but  I  am  not  inclined  to  look  upon  the 
hero's  excessive  tendency  to  reflection  as  something  really  pri- 
mary and  causative.  Under  the  second  general  division  of  the 
paper,  I  accent  Hamlet's  conscientious  scruples  against  blood- 
revenge,  and  his  natural  aversion  to  killing  the  King.  It 
seems  to  me  entirely  reasonable  that  all  these  qualities  should 
be  associated  in  one  person.  I  believe  further  that  Shake- 
speare was  hampered  in  some  measure  by  the  fixed  outlines 
of  the  accepted  version  of  the  old  story ;  also  that  the  fact 
that  he  expresses  freely  through  the  mouth  of  the  Prince  his 
own  thoughts  and  feelings  intensifies  the  impression  of  weak- 
ness and  dilatoriness  which  Hamlet  makes  upon  us.  I  give 
less  prominence  to  the  other  considerations  that  have  been 
mentioned,  though  I  look  upon  some  of  them  as  having  a 
measure  of  force.  I  oppose  the  purely  objective  explanation 
of  Hamlet's  delay  advocated  by  Werder  and  some  others. 

The  problem  of  Hamlet !  Who  shall  altogether  solve  it  ? 
Even  while  we  cherish  the  vain  hope  of  doing  this,  some 
passage  from  the  play  comes  to  mind  which  accords  but 
poorly  with  our  elaborate  solution.  And  then  a  princely 
form  and  careworn  face  rise  up  before  us,  and  the  pale  lips 
say  haughtily  :  "  Why,  look  you  now,  how  unworthy  a  thing 
you  make  of  me !  You  would  play  upon  me :  you  would 
seem  to  know  my  stops :  you  would  sound  me  from  my 
lowest  note  to  the  top  of  my  compass :  you  would  pluck  out 
the  heart  of  my  mystery  ! " 

ALBERT  H.  TOLMAN. 


IV.— THE  PROVINCE  OF  ENGLISH  PHILOLOGY.1 

Perhaps  no  reproach  is  oftener  addressed  to  those  who  call 
themselves  philologists  than  that  they  are  unconcerned  with 
that  beauty  which  has  furnished  a  distinctive  epithet  for  the 
word  '  literature '  in  the  phrase  belles  lettres,  that  they  lack 
imagination  and  insight,  and  that  they  are  quite  unfitted  to 
impart  to  others  a  sense  of  the  spiritual  values  which  inhere  in 
the  productions  that  form  the  subject-matter  of  their  studies. 
An  eloquent  writer,  who  is  himself  a  capable  investigator,  has 
recently  presented  this  view  in  an  essay  which  deserves  the 
attention  of  every  teacher  of  literature,  and  especially  of  every 
teacher  of  English  literature. 

I  make  no  apology  for  quoting  a  rather  long  extract  from 
the  essay  in  question,  since  the  arraignment  puts  into  definite 
form  what  a  good  many  people  have  been  feeling  and  inti- 
mating, and  the  philologist  is  bound  to  meet  the  attack  either 
by  mending  his  ways,  or  by  showing  that  the  critic,  with  the 
best  intentions  in  the  world,  has  not  fully  comprehended 
the  purposes  of  philology,  or  has  perhaps  taken  a  part  for  the 
whole.  Here,  then,  is  the  passage  : 

"And  so  very  whimsical  things  sometimes  happen,  because 
of  this  scientific  and  positivist  spirit  of  the  age,  when  the 
study  of  the  literature  of  any  language  is  made  part  of  the 
curriculum  of  our  colleges.  The  more  delicate  and  subtle 
purposes  of  the  study  are  put  quite  out  of  countenance, 
and  literature  is  commanded  to  assume  the  phrases  and  the 
methods  of  science.  ...  It  is  obvious  that  you  cannot  have 
universal  education  without  restricting  your  teaching  to  such 
things  as  can  be  universally  understood.  It  is  plain  that  you 
cannot  impart  '  university  methods '  to  thousands,  or  create 
'  investigators '  by  the  score,  unless  you  confine  your  uni- 

1  Address  of  the  President  of  the  Modern  Language  Association  of  America, 
at  its  Annual  Meeting  held  at  the  University  of  Pennsylvania,  Philadelphia, 
Pa.,  December,  1897. 

185 


186  ALBERT  S.    COOK. 

versity  education  to  matters  which  dull  men  can  investigate, 
your  laboratory  training  to  tasks  which  mere  plodding  dili- 
gence and  submissive  patience  can  compass.  Yet,  if  you  do 
so  limit  and  constrain  what  you  teach,  you  thrust  taste  and 
insight  and  delicacy  of  perception  out  of  the  schools,  exalt 
the  obvious  and  the  merely  useful  above  the  things  which  are 
only  imaginatively  or  spiritually  conceived,  make  education 
an  affair  of  tasting  and  handling  and  smelling.  .  .  . 

"You  have  nowadays,  it  is  believed,  only  to  heed  the 
suggestions  of  pedagogics  in  order  to  know  how  to  impart 
Burke  or  Browning,  Dryden  or  Swift.  There  are  certain 
practical  difficulties,  indeed;  but  there  are  ways  of  over- 
coming them.  You  must  have  strength  if  you  would  handle 
with  real  mastery  the  firm  fibre  of  these  men  ;  you  must  have 
a  heart,  morever,  to  feel  their  warmth,  an  eye  to  see  what 
they  see,  an  imagination  to  keep  them  company,  a  pulse  to 
experience  their  delights.  But  if  you  have  none  of  these 
things,  you  may  make  shift  to  do  without  them.  You  may 
count  the  words  they  use,  instead,  note  the  changes  of  phrase 
they  make  in  successive  revisions,  put  their  rhythm  into  a 
scale  of  feet,  run  their  allusions — particularly  their  female 
allusions — to  cover,  detect  them  in  their  previous  reading. 
Or,  if  none  of  these  things  please  you,  or  you  find  the  big 
authors  difficult  or  dull,  you  may  drag  to  light  all  the  minor 
writers  of  their  time,  who  are  easy  to  understand.  By  setting 
an  example  in  such  methods  you  render  great  services  in 
certain  directions.  You  make  the  higher  degrees  of  our  uni- 
versities available  for  the  large  number  of  respectable  men 
who  can  count,  and  measure,  and  search  diligently ;  and  that 
may  prove  no  small  matter.  You  divert  attention  from 
thought,  which  is  not  always  easy  to  get  at,  and  fix  attention 
upon  language,  as  upon  a  curious  mechanism,  which  can  be 
perceived  with  the  bodily  eye,  and  which  is  worthy  to  be 
studied  for  its  own  sake,  quite  apart  from  anything  it  may 
mean.  You  encourage  the  examination  of  forms,  grammatical 
and  metrical,  which  can  be  quite  accurately  determined  and 
quite  exhaustively  catalogued.  You  bring  all  the  visible 
phenomena  of  writing  to  light  and  into  ordered  system.  You 
go  further,  and  show  how  to  make  careful  literal  identification 
of  stories  somewhere  told  ill  and  without  art  with  the  same 
stories  told  over  again  by  the  masters,  well  and  with  the 
transfiguring  effect  of  genius.  You  thus  broaden  the  area  of 


THE  PROVINCE  OF  ENGLISH  PHILOLOGY.      187 

science  ;  for  you  rescue  the  concrete  phenomena  of  the  expres- 
sion of  thought — the  necessary  syllabification  which  accom- 
panies it,  the  inevitable  juxtaposition  of  words,  the  constant 
use  of  particles,  the  habitual  display  of  roots,  the  inveterate 
repetition  of  names,  the  recurrent  employment  of  meanings 
heard  or  read — from  their  confusion  with  the  otherwise  un- 
classifiable  manifestations  of  what  had  hitherto  been  accepted, 
without  critical  examination,  under  the  lump  term  ' literature/ 
simply  for  the  pleasure  and  spiritual  edification  to  be  got 
from  it."  (Woodrow  Wilson,  Mere  Literature,  and  Other 
Essays,  1896,  p.  2.) 

This  is  a  stern  indictment  to  bring  against  the  philolo- 
gist— the  '  mere  philologist/  as  our  author  might  say — and 
if  it  contains  the  whole  truth,  and  nothing  but  the  truth ;  if 
things  are  quite  as  bad  as  here  represented,  and  the  fault  is 
the  fault  of  certain  innovators,  who  usurp  the  domain  of 
better  men  with  their  science  falsely  so-called ;  then  it  behoves 
us  to  be  on  our  guard,  lest  we  also  be  entangled  in  the  net 
they  have  woven  for  their  own  feet,  and  so  become  involved 
with  them  in  a  common  destruction. 

Let  us  first  see,  however,  whether  some  of  these  matters 
are  susceptible  of  being  differently  stated.  And  first,  is  it 
quite  certain  that  the  evils  complained  of  are  due  to  the 
scientific  and  positivist  spirit  of  this  age,  and  to  the  effort 
after  universal  education?  It  is  more  than  two  thousand 
years  since  Herodicus  described  the  followers  of  the  critic 
Aristarchus  as  '  buzzing  in  corners,  busy  with  monosyllables.7 
Tt  is  more  than  eighteen  hundred  years  since  Seneca  thus 
declaimed  against  what  he  understood  by  the  philological 
study  of  literature : 

"A  grammarian  occupies  himself  with  the  care  of  speech, 
or,  if  he  takes  a  wider  view  of  his  art,  possibly  with  history. 
The  most  that  he  can  do  is  to  extend  the  limits  so  as  to 
include  poetry.  Which  of  these  openeth  a  way  to  virtue? 
Doth  the  unfolding  of  syllables,  the  niceties  of  speech,  the 
memory  of  fables,  or  the  law  and  syntax  of  verses  ?  Which 
of  these  taketh  away  fear,  casteth  out  covetousness,  bridleth 


188  ALBERT   S.    COOK. 

lust  ?  .  .  .  Let  us  grant  unto  them  that  Homer  was  a  phi- 
losopher; in  that  case  he  must  have  learnt  wisdom  before 
he  wrote  poetry;  wherefore  let  us  learn  those  things  which 
made  Homer  a  wise  man.  .  .  .  What  supposest  thou  that  it 
profiteth  to  inquire  into  the  ages  of  Patroclus  and  Achilles? 
Seekest  thou  rather  Ulysses'  errors  than  seest  how  thou  canst 
prevent  thine  own?  There  is  no  time  for  hearing  whether 
Ulysses  was  shipwrecked  between  Italy  and  Sicily,  or  passed 
the  boundaries  of  the  known  world.  .  .  .  Tempests  of  the 
mind  do  daily  toss  us,  and  vice  driveth  us  into  all  the  evils 
which  Ulysses  suffered.  Beauty  there  is  to  beguile  the  eyes, 
and  she  cometh  not  in  the  guise  of  a  foe :  hence  come  cruel 
monsters,  which  delight  in  men's  blood  ;  hence  come  deceitful 
allurements  of  the  ears;  hence  shipwrecks,  and  so  many 
varieties  of  evil.  Teach  me  this  thing,  how  I  may  love  my 
country,  my  wife,  and  my  father;  how  even,  suffering  ship- 
wreck, I  may  steer  my  ship  into  so  virtuous  a  haven." 

Here,  then,  is  a  strong  argument  against  literary  scholarship. 
Observe  at  once  its  admirable  cogency  and  its  comprehensive 
sweep.  The  goal  of  all  education  should  be  to  render  men  wise 
and  virtuous ;  therefore  wisdom  and  virtue  should  be  taught 
directly,  to  the  exclusion  of  all  other  matters.  How  obvious 
and  how  convincing  !  The  objection  to  literary  scholarship  has 
the  same  force  as  applied  to  other  studies.  This  is  apparent 
from  the  very  title  of  Seneca's  essay,  That  the  Liberal  Arts  are 
not  to  be  Classed  among  Good  Things,  and  Contribute  Nothing 
to  Virtue.  But  let  us  hear  his  own  application  of  the  principle 
to  the  study  of  music  and  geometry. 

"  Let  us  pass/'  he  says,  u  to  geometry  and  music ;  nothing 
shalt  thou  find  in  them  which  forbiddeth  fear,  or  forbiddeth 
covetousness,  of  which  whosoever  is  ignorant,  in  vain  knoweth 
other  things.  .  .  .  Thou  teachest  me  how  there  cometh  a 
harmony  from  sharp  and  bass  sounds,  and  how  a  chord  may 
be  composed  of  dissonant  strings.  Do  thou  make  rather  that 
my  mind  may  be  in  harmony  with  itself,  and  that  my  counsels 
be  not  out  of  time.  .  .  .  Thou  knowest  what  a  straight  line 
is ;  what  profiteth  it  thee  if  thou  art  ignorant  of  what  is 
crooked  in  life?" 


THE   PROVINCE   OP   ENGLISH   PHILOLOGY.  189 

But  there  is  another  argument  against  all  learning,  or  rather 
against  all  learning  except  philosophy.  Learning  is  a  positive 
incumbrance.  The  mind  is  limited  in  its  capacity.  There 
is  only  a  given  amount  of  space  in  the  mind  to  include  every- 
thing. All  the  room  occupied  by  learning  is  so  much  sub- 
tracted from  that  which  might  have  harbored  virtue.  Hear 
once  more  the  incomparable  Seneca  :  "  Of  whatsoever  part  of 
divine  and  human  affairs  thou  takest  hold,  thou  shalt  be 
wearied  with  the  huge  abundance  of  things  to  be  sought  out 
and  to  be  learned.  .  .  .  Virtue  will  not  lodge  itself  in  so 
narrow  a  room ;  a  great  matter  desireth  a  large  space ;  let  all 
else  be  driven  out,  let  the  whole  breast  be  empty  for  it." 

With  Seneca,  the  conclusion  of  the  whole  matter  is  extremely 
simple.  Philosophy  is  the  science  which  teaches  wisdom  and 
virtue.  Therefore  neglect  everything  else,  and  study  philoso- 
phy. In  his  own  words :  "  Philosophy  ....  raiseth  the 
whole  structure,  foundations  and  all.  Mathematics,  so  to 
speak,  are  a  superficial  art ;  it  buildeth  upon  another's  foun- 
dations, it  receiveth  its  principles  from  others,  by  the  benefit 
of  which  it  cometh  to  further  conclusions.  If,  by  its  own 
exertions,  it  could  come  to  truth,  if  it  could  comprehend  the 
nature  of  the  whole  world,  I  should  be  more  grateful  to  it. 
The  mind  is  made  perfect  by  one  thing — namely,  by  the 
unchangeable  knowledge  of  good  and  bad  things,  for  which 
alone  philosophy  is  competent.  But  none  other  art  inquireth 
about  good  and  bad  things." 

But,  unfortunately,  the  trail  of  the  serpent  is  over  philosophy 
even.  Seneca  can  not  help  admitting  that  his  very  philosophers 
are  not  quite  what  they  should  be.  "  I  speak,"  says  he,  "  of 
liberal  studies ;  how  much  of  what  is  useless  do  philosophers 
possess,  how  much  of  what  is  unpractical !  They  also  have 
descended  to  the  distinction  of  syllables,  and  to  the  proprieties 
of  conjunctions  and  prepositions,  and  to  envy  grammarians, 
to  envy  geometricians.  .  .  .  Thus  it  is  come  to  pass  that, 
with  all  their  diligence,  they  know  rather  to  speak  than  to 
live." 


190  ALBERT   S.    COOK. 

Now  I  would  not  be  understood  as  instituting  a  parallel 
in  all  respects  between  the  able  and  brilliant  writer  first 
quoted,  with  certain  of  whose  positions  I  find  myself  in 
agreement,  and  the  moralist  who  thus  ruthlessly,  like  another 
Caliph  Omar,  would  sweep  away  all  learning  from  the  face 
of  the  earth.  Yet  I  cannot  help  seeing  in  the  essay  of  the 
former  an  implication  that  taste  and  insight  and  delicacy  of 
perception  shall  be  imparted  directly  by  the  schools,  in  a 
manner  not  dissimilar,  it  may  be  apprehended,  to  that  in 
which  the  Senecan  wisdom  and  virtue  were  to  be  taught. 
Perhaps  this  is  possible ;  I  would  that  it  were.  Is  there  one 
who  listens  to  me  who  would  not  gladly  devote  his  whole 
energies  to  the  direct  communication  of  taste  and  insight  and 
delicacy  of  perception,  and  still  more  of  wisdom  and  virtue, 
were  that  possible  without  the  adventitious  aid  of  learning  ? 
If  we  could  train  the  mind  to  exact  and  severe  thinking, 
to  endure  the  toil  involved  in  continuous  attention  to  the 
same  subject,  without  invoking  the  processes  of  mathematical 
science,  or  any  equivalent  discipline,  to  come  to  our  assistance, 
how  the  college  curriculum  might  speedily  be  relieved  of  one 
of  its  heaviest  burdens  !  But  we  have  already  seen  that  even 
Seneca's  philosophers  were  not  quite  equal  to  his  demands ; 
they  also  "descended  to  the  distinction  of  syllables,  and  to  the 
proprieties  of  conjunctions  and  prepositions."  These  philoso- 
phers must  have  felt,  at  least  after  Seneca's  rebuke,  how  far 
they  were  derogating  from  the  inwardness  of  their  mission. 
Yet,  if  they  lived  a  quarter  of  a  century  longer,  they  were 
surely  not  a  little  comforted  by  the  utterances  of  Quin- 
tilian,  who  in  one  place  says :  "  Was  Cicero  the  less  of  an 
orator  because  he  was  most  attentive  to  the  study  of  grammar, 
and  because,  as  appears  from  his  letters,  he  was  a  rigid  exactor, 
on  all  occasions,  of  correct  language  from  his  son  ?  Did  the 
writings  of  Julius  Csesar  On  Analogy  diminish  the  vigor  of 
his  intellect?  Or  was  Messala  less  elegant  as  a  writer  because 
he  devoted  whole  books,  not  merely  to  single  words,  but  even 
to  single  letters?  These  studies  are  injurious,  not  to  those 


THE   PROVINCE   OF   ENGLISH   PHILOLOGY.  191 

who  pass  through  them,  but  to  those  who  dwell  immoderately 
on  them." 

But  are  modern  times  barren  of  such  instances  as  Quin- 
tilian  has  noted?  Milton,  great  poet  that  he  was,  did  not 
disdain  to  write  an  Accidence  commenced  Grammar,  and  I 
have  never  heard  that  his  poetry  was  the  worse  for  it. 
Milton's  exemplar,  the  first  poet  of  Italy,  a  man  eminent 
for  taste  and  insight  and  delicacy  of  perception,  as  well  as  for 
wisdom  and  virtue,  wrote  a  book  On  the  Vulgar  Tongue, 
which  he  began  on  this  wise :  t(  Since  we  do  not  find  that 
any  one  before  us  has  treated  of  a  science  of  the  Vulgar 
Tongue,  while,  in  fact,  we  see  that  this  tongue  is  highly 
necessary  for  all,  inasmuch  as  not  only  men,  but  even  women 
and  children,  strive,  in  so  far  as  Nature  allows  them,  to 
acquire  it ;  and  since  it  is  our  wish  to  enlighten  to  some  little 
extent  the  discernment  of  those  who  walk  through  the  streets 
like  blind  men,  generally  fancying  that  those  things  which  are 
really  in  front  of  them  are  behind  them ;  we  will  endeavor, 
by  the  aid  of  the  Wisdom  which  breathes  from  Heaven,  to 
be  of  service  to  the  speech  of  the  common  people,  not  only  by 
drawing  the  water  for  such  a  draught  from  our  own  under- 
standing, but  by  taking  or  compiling  from  others,  mixing  the 
most  useful  information  from  each  with  our  own."  In  this 
work,  he  whom  the  difficulties  of  language  had  never  pre- 
vented from  saying  just  what  he  desired  to  say,  went  on  to 
write  chapters  whose  titles  are  such  as  these  :  "  On  the  Dialect 
of  Rornagna,  and  Some  of  the  Dialects  beyond  the  Po,  es- 
pecially the  Venetian ; "  "  Of  the  Structure  of  the  Lines  in 
Poetry,  and  their  Variation  by  means  of  Syllables ; "  "  Of 
what  Lines  Stanzas  are  made,  and  of  the  Number  of  Syllables 
in  the  Lines ; "  "  Of  the  Relation  of  the  Rimes,  and  in  what 
order  they  are  to  be  placed  in  the  Stanza ; "  "  Of  the  Number 
of  Lines  and  Syllables  in  the  Stanza."  Does  it  not  look  as 
though  Dante  had,  in  the  words  of  our  critic,  come  perilously 
near  to  rescuing  from  their  confusion  with  literature  "the  con- 
crete phenomena  of  the  expression  of  thought — the  necessary 


192  ALBERT  S.   COOK. 

syllabification  which  accompanies  it,  the  inevitable  juxtaposi- 
tion of  words?" 

Passing  over  such  men  as  Ben  Jonson,  who  wrote  an 
English  grammar,  and  made  an  extensive  collection  of  the 
grammars  of  various  languages,  but  at  the  same  time  set 
the  fashions  in  English  literature  for  several  decades,  let  us 
dwell  for  a  moment  on  the  authors  cited  above  as  deserving 
better  treatment  than  they  are  likely  to  receive  at  the  hands 
of  the  modern  expositor  ?  Is  it  possible  that  the  attitude  of 
Burke  and  Browning,  of  Dryden  and  Swift,  toward  philo- 
logical investigation,  is  in  any  respect  similar  to  that  of  Dante 
and  of  Milton  ?  I  turn  to  Burke's  essay  On  the  Sublime  and 
Beauti/ul,  and  find  such  headings  as  these :  "  Color  considered 
as  Productive  of  the  Sublime;"  " Smell  and  Taste;  Bitters 
and  Stenches ; "  "  The  Effect  of  Words ; "  "  How  Words 
influence  the  Passions."  Moreover,  I  find  in  this  work  such 
passages  as  the  following :  "  It  is  hard  to  repeat  certain  sets 
of  words,  though  owned  by  themselves  unoperative,  without 
being  in  some  degree  affected,  especially  if  a  warm  and  effect- 
ing tone  of  voice  accompanies  them  ;  as  suppose, 

Wise,  valiant,  generous,  good,  and  great. 

These  words,  by  having  no  application,  ought  to  be  unopera- 
tive;  but  when  words  commonly  sacred  to  great  occasions 
are  used,  we  are  affected  by  them  even  without  the  occasions." 

I  turn  to  Browning,  and,  reading  The  Grammarian's 
Funeral,  can  not  doubt  that  he  was  in  sympathy  with  the 
character  he  has  so  vividly  and  feelingly  delineated. 

I  turn  to  Dryden,  and  find  him  writing  in  this  vein :  "Thus 
it  appears  necessary  that  a  man  should  be  a  nice  critic  in  his 
mother  tongue  before  he  attempts  to  translate  a  foreign 
language.  Neither  is  it  sufficient  that  he  be  able  to  judge 
of  words  and  style,  but  he  must  be  a  master  of  them  too ;  he 
must  perfectly  understand  his  author's  tongue,  and  absolutely 
command  his  own."  Again  he  says :  "All  the  versification 
and  little  variety  of  Claudian  is  included  within  the  compass 


THE   PROVINCE   OF   ENGLISH   PHILOLOGY.  193 

of  four  or  five  lines,  and  then  he  begins  again  in  the  same 
tenor ;  perpetually  closing  his  sense  at  the  end  of  a  verse,  and 
that  verse  commonly  what  they  call  golden,  or  two  substantives 
and  two  adjectives,  with  a  verb  between  them  to  keep  the 
peace."  Does  not  this  look  like  the  prefigurenaent  of  a  modern 
inquiry  into  end-stopped  and  run-on  lines? 

I  turn  to  Swift,  and  am  reminded  by  the  revival  of  the 
proposition  to  establish  an  English  Academy  that  he  wrote  a 
Proposal  for  Correcting,  Improving,  and  Ascertaining  the  Eng- 
lish Tongue,  involving  the  creation  of  a  society  similar  to  the 
French  Academy  for  that  purpose. 

Even  the  author  who  instances  Burke  and  Browning, 
Dryden  and  Swift,  as  writers  who  should  be  interpreted 
in  a  larger  and  freer  manner,  is  willing,  in  a  noble  oration, 
to  affirm :  "  What  you  cannot  find  a  substitute  for  is  the 
classics  as  literature ;  and  there  can  be  no  first-hand  contact 
with  that  literature  if  you  will  not  master  the  grammar  and 
the  syntax  which  convey  its  subtle  power."  From  this  it 
would  appear  that  it  is  proper  to  master  the  grammar  and 
syntax  of  the  ancient  classics ;  which  he  who  will  may  har- 
monize with  the  objections  which  were  quoted  at  the  beginning 
of  these  remarks. 

Recalling  those  objections,  we  have  seen  that  they  were  in 
some  measure  anticipated  centuries  ago ;  that  Seneca  would 
have  had  all  ancillary  study  of  literature  replaced  by  the 
direct  inculcation  of  the  essential  qualities  or  virtues  that 
literature  embodies;  that  his  criticism  held  equally  true  of 
all  liberal  studies  except  philosophy,  and  that  even  philoso- 
phy was  not  exempt  from  his  censure ;  but  that,  on  the  other 
hand,  some  of  the  noblest  statesmen,  orators,  and  poets,  have 
busied  themselves  with  the  very  inquiries  which  we  have 
heard  so  unsparingly  condemned;  and  that  we  are  thus  pre- 
sented with  the  singular  anomaly  that  that  is  forbidden  to  the 
humble  expounder  of  classical  authors  which  was  practised 
and  recommended  by  the  classical  authors  themselves;  and 
that  is  forbidden  to  the  student  of  our  own  literature  which 


194  ALBERT  S.   COOK. 

is  reckoned,  by  the  same  authority,  as  highly  laudable  in  a 
student  of  the  masterpieces  of  antiquity. 

There  must,  one  would  infer,  be  something  inherently 
attractive  and  valuable  about  learning,  which  enables  it  to 
survive  such  attacks  as  those  of  Seneca ;  there  must  be  some- 
thing inherently  attractive  and  valuable  about  the  learning 
which  occupies  itself  with  literature,  to  make  it  the  concern 
of  so  many  magnanimous  spirits,  and  to  extort  vindications 
from  the  antagonists  who  come  out  armed  to  destroy  it. 
Perhaps  the  explanation  is  to  be  sought  in  Aristotle's  famous 
sentence,  "All  men  by  nature  desire  to  know."  Perhaps  the 
justification  has  been  furnished  by  Seneca  himself,  who  else- 
where asks  why  we  instruct  our  children  in  liberal  studies, 
and  answers,  "  Not  because  they  can  give  virtue,  but  because 
they  prepare  the  mind  to  the  receiving  of  it."  Possibly, 
then,  virtue  may  sometimes  be  best  suggested  by  indirection ; 
perhaps,  too,  the  same  is  true  of  taste  and  insight ;  it  may  be 
that  they  come  not  with  observation,  or  at  least  not  exclu- 
sively with  observation ;  it  may  be  that  they  who  devotedly 
study  any  aspect  of  great  works  receive  of  their  spirit,  even 
as  one  may  approach  the  one  spirit  of  Nature  through  the 
different  channels  of  astronomy,  chemistry,  and  zoology.  A 
lover  of  literature  and  of  all  forms  of  beauty,  too  early  lost  to 
his  University  and  the  world — I  refer  to  the  late  Professor 
McLaughlin — in  an  essay  in  which  he  pleaded  for  the  recog- 
nition of  the  spiritual  element  in  literature,  was  yet  fain  to 
admit :  "  The  first  steps  toward  the  desired  results  must  be 
prosaic ;  people  must  train  themselves,  or  be  trained,  to  see 
what  is  on  the  surface,  to  grow  conscious  of  metrical  differ- 
ences, for  instance;  not  to  remain  quite  blind  to  the  real 
meaning  beneath  a  figurative  turn ;  even  to  come  to  recognize 
that  there  is  a  figurative  turn." 

If  we  could  take  this  view  to  heart,  perhaps  the  difficulties 
which  perplex  so  many  earnest  seekers  after  truth,  as  they 
consider  the  subject,  would  vanish  away,  or  at  any  rate 
become  less  formidable.  According  to  this  mode  of  looking 


•  THE  PROVINCE  OF  ENGLISH  PHILOLOGY.      195 

at  the  matter,  taste  and  insight  and  delicacy  of  perception  are 
by  no  means  common  in  an  era  of  universal  education,  nor 
indeed  in  any  era  whatever ;  the  person  who  possesses  them 
only  in  a  rudimentary  degree  is  as  likely  to  be  repelled  as 
attracted  by  a  sudden  revelation  of  their  austere  charms ;  in 
this,  as  in  everything  else,  the  natural  progress  is  by  easy 
stages  from  the  phenomenal  to  the  noumenal,  from  the  things 
of  sense  to  the  things  of  the  spirit;  and  accordingly  the 
science  which  undertakes  to  deal  with  the  forms  in  which 
the  human  spirit  has,  in  various  epochs,  manifested  itself, 
especially  through  the  medium  of  literature,  must  be  prepared 
to  take  account  of  the  phenomenal  no  less  than  the  noumenal, 
and  accompany  the  seeker  along  the  whole  scale  of  ascent 
from  the  one  to  the  other. 

But  is  there  any  such  science  ?  There  is ;  its  name  is 
Philology;  and  in  no  other  sense  than  as  designating  this 
science  should  the  term  ' philology7  be  used,  unless  with  some 
qualifying  term  which  limits  its  meaning  in  a  specific  and 
unmistakable  manner. 

The  function  of  the  philologist,  then,  is  the  endeavor  to  relive 
the  life  of  the  past ;  to  enter  by  the  imagination  into  the  spirit- 
ual experiences  of  all  the  historic  protagonists  of  civilization 
in  a  given  period  and  area  of  culture ;  to  think  the  thoughts, 
to  feel  the  emotions,  to  partake  the  aspirations,  recorded  in 
literature ;  to  become  one  with  humanity  in  the  struggles  of 
a  given  nation  or  race  to  perceive  and  attain  the  ideal  of  exist- 
ence; and  then  to  judge  rightly  these  various  disclosures  of 
the  human  spirit,  and  to  reveal  to  the  world  their  true  sig- 
nificance and  relative  importance. 

In  compassing  this  end,  the  philologist  will  have  much  to 
do ;  much  that  is  not  only  laborious,  but  that  even,  in  itself 
considered,  might  justly  be  regarded  as  distasteful,  or  even 
repellent.  He  must  examine  and  compare  the  records  of  the 
human  spirit  bequeathed  us  by  the  past,  and,  before  doing 
this,  must  often  exhume  them,  perhaps  in  a  mutilated  con- 
dition, from  the  libraries  and  monasteries  where  they  may 


196  ALBERT   S.    COOK. 

have  been  moldering  for  ages ;  he  must  piece  them  together, 
where  they  have  been  separated  and  dispersed ;  interpret  them ; 
correct  their  manifest  errors,  so  far  as  this  may  safely  be  done 
in  the  light  of  fuller  information ;  determine  their  meaning 
and  their  worth ;  and  then  deliver  them  to  the  world,  freed, 
as  far  as  may  be,  from  the  injuries  inflicted  by  time  and  evil 
chance,  with  their  sense  duly  ascertained,  their  message  clearly 
set  forth,  and  their  contribution  to  the  sum  of  human  attain- 
ment justly  and  sympathetically  estimated. 

This  is  the  work  that  has  been  done,  and  is  still  in  process 
of  doing,  for  the  Sacred  Scriptures ;  for  Homer,  Sophocles, 
and  Pindar  among  the  Greeks ;  for  Virgil,  Lucretius,  Tacitus, 
and  Juvenal  among  the  Romans ;  for  the  Italian  Dante  and 
Ariosto ;  for  the  French  chansons  de  geste,  no  less  than  for 
Ronsard,  Moliere,  and  Rousseau ;  for  the  Nibeiungenlied  and 
Goethe  among  the  Germans ;  for  Cynewulf,  Chaucer,  Shake- 
speare, and  Milton  among  the  English ;  and  for  a  multitude 
of  others  of  whom  these  may  stand  as  types. 

The  ideal  philologist  is  at  once  antiquary,  paleographer, 
grammarian,  lexicologist,  expounder,  critic,  historian  of  litera- 
ture, and,  above  all,  lover  of  humanity.  He  should  have  the 
accuracy  of  the  scientist,  the  thirst  for  discovery  of  the  Arctic 
explorer,  the  judgment  of  the  man  of  affairs,  the  sensibility  of 
the  musician,  the  taste  of  the  connoisseur,  and  the  soul  of  the 
poet.  He  must  shrink  from  no  labor,  and  despise  no  detail, 
by  means  of  which  he  may  be  enabled  to  reach  his  goal  more 
surely,  and  laden  with  richer  results.  Before  traversing 
unknown  seas,  he  must  appropriate  every  discovery  made  by 
his  predecessors  on  similar  quests,  and  avail  himself  of  every 
improvement  upon  their  methods  which  his  imagination  can 
suggest,  and  his  judgment  approve.  He  will  be  instant  in 
season  and  out  of  season.  Whatsoever  his  hand  finds  to  do 
he  will  do  with  his  might.  He  will  choose  the  task  which 
humanity  most  needs  to  have  performed,  and  at  the  same  time 
that  in  which  his  own  powers  and  special  equipment  can  be 
most  fully  utilized ;  and,  when  possible,  he  will  give  the 


THE   PEOVINCE   OP    ENGLISH   PHILOLOGY.  197 

preference  to  such  labors  as  shall  afford  play  and  outreach 
to  his  nobler  faculties,  rather  than  to  such  as  may  dwarf  and 
impoverish  them. 

According  to  the  exigencies  which  circumstances  create,  or 
his  own  intuition  perceives,  he  will  edit  dictionaries,  like 
Johnson  or  Murray ;  make  lexicons  to  individual  authors, 
like  Schmidt ;  compile  concordances,  like  Bartlett  or  Ellis ; 
investigate  metre,  like  Sievers  or  Schipper ;  edit  authors,  as 
Skeat  has  edited  Chaucer,  Child  the  English  and  Scottish 
Ballads,  and  Furness  Shakespeare ;  discourse  on  the  laws  of 
literature,  like  Sidney,  or  Ben  Jonson,  or  Lewes,  or  Walter 
Pater ;  write  literary  biography,  like  Brandl  or  Dowden ;  or 
outline  the  features  and  progress  of  a  national  literature,  like 
Ten  Brink,  or  Stopford  Brooke,  or  Taine. 

The  ideal  philologist  must,  therefore,  have  gained  him  uthe 
gains  of  various  men,  ransacked  the  ages,  spoiled  the  climes." 
Yet  withal  he  must  be  content,  if  fortune,  or  his  sense  of  a 
potential  universe  hidden  in  his  apparently  insignificant  task, 
will  have  it  so,  merely  to  settle  hoti's 'business,  properly  base 
oun,  or  give  us  the  doctrine  of  the  enclitic  de — sure  that  pos- 
terity, while  it  may  ungratefully  forget  him,  will  at  least  have 
cause  to  bless  his  name,  as  that  of  one  without  whose  strenu- 
ous and  self-sacrificing  exertions  the  poets,  the  orators,  the 
historians,  and  the  philosophers  would  have  less  completely 
yielded  up  their  meaning,  or  communicated  their  inspiration, 
to  an  expectant  and  needy  world. 

That  the  philologist,  as  such,  is  not  necessarily  a  creative 
literary  artist,  is  no  impugnment  of  his  mission  or  its  impor- 
tance. Neither  is  he  who  expounds  the  law,  or  the  doctrines 
of  Christianity,  necessarily  a  creative  literary  artist.  Yet  he 
may  be ;  Erskine  was,  and  Webster ;  and  so  were  Robert 
South  and  Cardinal  Newman  in  their  sermons.  To  be  learned 
is  not  necessarily  to  be  dull,  for  Burke  was  learned,  and 
Chaucer,  and  Cicero,  and  Homer.  Petrarch  was  not  dull ; 
and  all  the  philology  of  modern  times  goes  back  to  Petrarch. 


198  ALBERT   8.    COOK. 

If  we  seek  for  philologists  who  may  fairly  be  ranked 
among  reputable  authors,  the  brothers  Grimm  wrote  fairy 
stories  quite  as  charmingly  as  Perrault;  Hallam  says  of 
Politian  that  his  poem  displayed  more  harmony,  spirit,  and 
imagination,  than  any  that  had  been  written  since  the  death 
of  Petrarch ;  and  the  same  writer  calls  the  History  and 
Annals  of  Grotius  a  monument  of  vigorous  and  impressive 
language.  Professor  Lounsbury  says  of  Tyrwhitt,  "  His 
literary  taste  can  be  described  as  almost  unerring/'  The 
style  of  Erasmus  has  been  called  clear,  lively,  expressive 
rather  than  regular,  sparkling  with  sallies  and  verve.  Sainte 
Beuve,  who  by  his  profession  of  critic  comes  well  within  the 
definition  of  the  philologist,  is  of  course  one  of  the  literary 
glories  of  France.  Croiset,  the  author  of  La  Poesie  de  Pin- 
dare,  is  an  author  whom  one  finds  it  difficult  to  lay  down 
when  his  book  has  once  been  taken  in  hand.  Sellar's  accounts 
of  the  JRoman  poets  can  be  read  with  the  utmost  pleasure  by 
any  one  at  all  interested  in  the  subject.  The  charm  of  Max 
Miiller's  writing  is  weli  known.  One  might  go  on  to  enumer- 
ate Jebb,  and  Gildersleeve,  and  Jowett,  and  Mahaffy — but 
why  extend  a  list  which  any  one  can  continue  for  himself? 
Enough  has  been  said  to  show  that  the  pursuit  of  philology 
is  not  incompatible  with  literary  power  and  grace — as  why 
indeed  should  it  be  ? 

But  it  has  been  observed  that  dull  men  crowd  into  the 
profession,  men  who  can  only  count  and  catalogue,  or  who, 
to  employ  the  language  of  Chapman  in  The  Revenge  of  Bussy 
d'Ambois,  are 

Of  taste  so  much  depraved,  that  they  had  rather 
Delight,  and  satisfy  themselves  to  drink 
Of  the  stream  troubled,  wandering  ne'er  so  far 
From  the  clear  fount,  than  of  the  fount  itself. 

Alas,  it  is  but  too  true  !  Heaven-sent  geniuses  are  rare,  and 
there  is  not  room  for  all  the  dull  men  in  the  other  professions. 
Moreover,  great  poets  are  sometimes  averse  to  spending  their 
lives  in  the  professor's  chair,  when  they  can  write  Idylls  of 


THE   PROVINCE   OF   ENGLISH   PHILOLOGY.  199 

the  King  and  Men  and  Women.  Also,  there  is  no  recipe  by 
which  to  convert  dull  men  into  heaven-sent  geniuses,  and  the 
preponderance  of  the  former  class  everywhere  is  an  evil  not 
sufficiently  to  be  deplored.  Then,  too,  some  of  us  must  do 
the  intellectual  hewing  of  wood  and  drawing  of  water  for  the 
rest,  and  how  should  this  be  were  no  dull  men  to  interest 
themselves  in  literature?  Finally,  we  can  always  fall  back 
upon  the  reasons  assigned  by  Longinus — if  it  was  indeed  he 
who  wrote  the  immortal  Treatise  on  the  Sublime — Longinus, 
a  man  whom  Plotinus  allowed  to  be  a  philologist,  but  in  no 
sense  a  philosopher.  Thus  he  moralizes  :  "  It  is  a  matter  of 
wonder  that  in  the  present  age,  which  produces  many  highly 
skilled  in  the  arts  of  popular  persuasion,  many  of  keen  and 
active  powers,  many  especially  rich  in  every  pleasing  gift  of 
language,  the  growth  of  highly  exalted  and  wide-reaching 
genius  has,  with  a  few  rare  exceptions,  almost  entirely  ceased. 
...  It  is  so  easy,  and  so  characteristic  of  human  nature, 
always  to  find  fault  with  the  present.  Consider,  now,  whether 
the  corruption  of  genius  is  to  be  attributed,  not  to  a  world- 
wide peace,  but  rather  to  the  war  within  us  which  knows 
no  limit,  which  engages  all  our  desires,  yes,  and  still  further 
to  the  bad  passions  which  lay  siege  to  us  to-day,  and  make 
utter  havoc  and  spoil  of  our  lives.  Are  we  not  enslaved, 
nay,  are  not  our  careers  completely  shipwrecked,  by  love  of 
gain,  that  fever  which  rages  unappeased  in  us  all,  and  love 
of  pleasure? — one  the  most  debasing,  the  other  the  most 
ignoble,  of  the  mind's  diseases."  If  there  are  no  better  men 
forthcoming  as  expounders  of  English  literature,  may  it  not 
be  that  the  requisite  talents  are  attracted  to  more  lucrative 
pursuits  rather  than  that  the  fault  is  with  the  tendency  of 
education  to  become  universal  ? 

It  is  singular,  however,  that  men  whom  no  one  would 
think  of  calling  dull  practise  on  occasion  the  arts  that  we 
have  heard  condemned.  Thus  Professor  Dowden,  in  his  very 
newest  book,  his  volume  of  selections  from  Wordsworth,  so 
far  from  thinking  it  a  sin,  in  dealing  with  the  poets,  to  "  note 


200  ALBERT   S.    COOK. 

the  changes  of  phrase  they  make  in  successive  revisions/' 
expressly  says,  "  From  no  other  English  poet  can  lessons  in 
the  poetic  craft  so  full,  so  detailed,  and  so  instructive  be 
obtained  as  those  to  be  had  by  cne  who  follows  Wordsworth 
through  the  successive  editions,  and  puts  to  himself  the 
repeated  question,  '  For  what  reason  was  this  change,  for 
what  reason  was  that,  introduced  ?' '  Gaston  Paris,  too,  who 
is  said  to  be  unsurpassed  as  a  lecturer  on  the  felicities  of  style, 
is  best  known  to  the  world  by  researches  which  quite  surely 
fall  under  the  condemnation  already  cited. 

Philology  is  frequently  considered  to  be  identical  with 
linguistics.  This  is  an  error  which  can  not  be  sufficiently 
deprecated.  It  results  in  the  estrangement  of  the  study  of 
language  from  that  of  literature,  with  which,  in  the  interests 
of  both,  it  should  be  most  intimately  associated.  The  study 
of  language  is  apt  to  seem  arid  and  repellent  to  those  who  do 
not  perceive  how  essential  it  is  to  the  comprehension  of  litera- 
ture. The  conception  of  linguistics  as  a  totally  independent 
branch  of  learning,  and  the  bestowal  upon  it  of  the  appellation 
which  properly  designates  the  whole  study  of  the  history  of 
culture,  especially  through  the  medium  of  literature,  is  fraught 
with  incalculable  injury  to  the  pursuit  of  both  divisions  of 
the  subject.  Professor  Saintsbury  deplores  this  separation  in 
a  recent  work.  He  says  too  truly :  "  With  some  honorable 
exceptions,  we  find  critics  of  literature  too  often  divided  into 
linguists  who  seem  neither  to  think  nor  to  be  capable  of 
thinking  of  the  meaning  or  the  melody,  of  the  individual  and 
technical  mastery,  of  an  author,  a  book,  or  a  passage,  and  into 
loose  aesthetic  rhetoricians  who  will  sometimes  discourse  on 
.ZEschylus  without  knowing  a  second  aorist  from  an  Attic 
perfect,  and  pronounce  eulogies  or  depreciations  on  Virgil 
without  having  the  faintest  idea  whether  there  is  or  is  not 
any  authority  for  quamvis  with  one  mood  rather  than  another." 
He  adds :  "  It  is  not  wonderful,  though  it  is  in  the  highest 
degree  unhealthy,  that  the  stricter  scholars  should  be  more  or 


THE   PROVINCE   OF   ENGLISH    PHILOLOGY.  201 

less  scornfully  relinquishing  the  province  of  literary  criticism 
altogether,  while  the  looser  aesthetics  consider  themselves 
entitled  to  neglect  scholarship  in  any  proper  sense  with  a 
similarly  scornful  indifference." 

I  hope  we  shall  all  concur  with  Professor  Saintsbury  in 
this  opinion.  Such  mutual  distrust,  not  to  say  dislike,  is 
in  the  highest  degree  unhealthy.  Why  should  not  all  thought- 
ful students  of  English  call  themselves  philologists,  and  thus 
recognize  that  they  are  all  virtually  aiming  at  the  same  thing, 
notwithstanding  that  they  approach  the  subject  from  different 
points  of  view,  and  in  practise  emphasize  different  aspects  of 
their  common  theme? 

It  may  perhaps  be  objected  that  this  would  be  equivalent  to 
attributing  an  arbitrary  and  novel  signification  to  the  word 
philology.  In  this  presence,  I  need  only  advert  to  the  fact 
that  in  Germany  the  meaning  I  advocate  is  recognized  as  the 
only  tenable  one  by  all  the  recent  authorities.  More  than  a 
hundred  years  ago,  Wolf,  acting  in  part  under  the  inspiration 
of  Goethe,  outlined  the  conception  which  in  more  recent  times 
has  been  developed  by  Boeckh,  and  from  him  has  been  adopted 
by  all  the  chief  authors  or  editors  of  systematic  treatises  deal- 
ing with  the  philology  of  the  various  nations  or  races.  While 
they  differ  more  or  less  with  respect  to  the  expediency  of 
including  certain  subdivisions  of  this  department  of  knowledge 
in  their  survey,  on  the  essential  point  such  scholars  as  Paul, 
Grober,  Korting,  and  Elze,  all  agree.  No  one  who  has  not 
reflected  long  and  deeply  upon  the  conception  elaborated  by 
Boeckh  can  realize  how  fruitful  it  proves,  and  how  fully  it 
satisfies  the  demand  for  a  philosophy  of  our  work  which  shall 
recognize  at  once  the  part  played  in  its  advancement  by  the 
intuitions  of  genius  and  by  the  humbler  labors  of  the  compiler 
and  systematizer. 

Many  people  are  misled  by  forming  a  wrong  notion  of  the 
etymology  of  the  term  we  have  been  discussing.  "  Does  not 
mean  '  word  ? ' "  say  they ;  "  how  then  can  philology 


202  ALBERT   S.    COOK. 

signify  anything  else  than  a  study  of  words  ?  " — whereupon 
they  complacently  identify  philology  with  etymology.  But 
the  initial  mistake  is  a  serious  one.  If  one  traces  the  use  of 
(j)L\o\oy[a  and  ^6X0X0709  in  classical  Greek  and  Latin,  he 
will  find  something  quite  different.  The  philologist  was 
originally  one  who  loved  the  tales  of  history  or  old  romance, 
and  then  one  who  was  fond  of  all  sorts  of  learning  which 
naturally  grew  out  of  this  love  for  dwelling  on  the  records 
of  the  past.  Thus  a  philologist  was  distinctively  literary  in 
his  tastes;  not  always  philosophical,  but  always  prevailingly 
literary.  Since  literature  employed  speech  as  its  medium,  he 
of  course  became  an  investigator  of  speech,  but — and  this  is  a 
most  important  consideration — his  interest  in  language  grew 
out  of  his  interest  in  literature,  and  his  dominant  concern 
with  language  was  in  its  capacity  as  the  organ  of  literary 
communication.  Boeckh  has  pointed  out  that  a  compound 
which  would  have  expressed  to  the  ancients  what  we  often 
mean  by  linguistic  study  would  have  had  to  be  formed  with 
7X0)0-0-0, — like  our  '  glossonorny ' — and  not  with  \6<yo?.  It 
is  the  use  of  the  expression  ' comparative  philology7  in  the 
sense  of  '  glossonomy '  or  '  glossology/  which  has  wrought 
the  mischief.  If  one  regards  \6<yos  as  standing  for  the  typi- 
cal revelation  of  itself  by  the  human  soul,  and  also  of  the 
faculty  chiefly  instrumental  in  effecting  this  revelation — for 
oratio  and  ratio,  as  the  Romans  said — the  term  philology 
assumes  its  rightful  dignity  and  breadth,  and  designates  one 
of  the  noblest  employments  to  which  a  human  being  can 
dedicate  himself.  He  who  cherishes  this  ideal  will  not 
thereby  become  an  ideal  philologist,  but  he  will  be  less  likely 
to  strive  as  one  that  beateth  the  air;  he  will  perceive  that 
his  ultimate  concern  is  with  the  human  soul,  and  all  his 
collecting,  and  comparing,  and  criticizing,  will  subserve  the 
one  end  of  enabling  the  voices  of  the  past,  and  especially 
the  thrilling  and  compelling  voices,  to  sound  more  audibly 
and  tunefully  in  the  ear  of  his  own  and  future  generations. 


THE   PROVINCE   OF    ENGLISH    PHILOLOGY.  203 

We  must  never  forget  that  the  philologist  is  a  lover.  As 
Pythagoras  was  not  willing  to  be  called  a  wise  man,  but  only 
a  lover  of  wisdom,  and  thus  coined  the  word  philosophy,  so 
the  philologist  may  well  be  content  to  call  himself  a  lover 
too,  a  lover  of  the  thrilling  and  compelling  voices  of  the  past. 
He  becomes  a  philologist,  if  he  is  worthy  of  the  name,  because 
they  have  thrilled  and  compelled  him ;  and  he  would  fain 
devise  means,  however  circuitous  in  appearance,  by  which  to 
insure  that  they  shall  thrill  and  compel  others.  His  sensi- 
bility is  the  measure  of  his  devotion  ;  and  his  devotion,  while 
it  may  not  be  the  measure  of  his  success,  is  certainly  its  indis- 
pensable condition. 

If  then,  philology,  truly  considered,  enlists  the  head  in 
the  service  of  the  heart ;  if  it  demands  not  only  high  and 
manifold  discipline,  but  rich  natural  endowment;  if  its  object 
is  the  revelation  to  the  present  of  the  spiritual  attainments  of 
the  past ;  if  it  aims  to  win  free  access  for  the  thoughts  of  the 
mightiest  thinkers,  and  the  dreams  of  the  most  visionary  of 
poets ;  if  it  seeks  to  train  the  imagination  to  re-create  the 
form  and  pressure  of  a  vanished  time,  in  order  to  stimulate 
our  own  age  to  equal  or  surpass  its  predecessors  in  whatever 
best  illustrates  and  ennobles  humanity ;  if  there  are  not  want- 
ing numerous  examples  of  poets  who  have  been  philologists, 
and  philologists  who  have  been  essentially  poets;  and,  finally, 
if  philology  is  the  only  term  which  thus  fully  comprehends 
these  various  aspects  of  a  common  subject,  and  we  have  the 
most  authoritative  precedents  for  employing  it  in  that  signifi- 
cation ;  shall  we  willingly  allow  the  word  to  be  depreciated, 
and  the  largeness  and  unity  of  the  corresponding  conception 
imperiled,  by  consenting  to  employ  it  for  the  designation  of 
a  single  branch  of  the  comprehensive  whole,  and  that  the 
branch  which,  to  the  popular  apprehension,  least  exhibits 
the  real  import  and  aim  of  the  science?  If  not,  and  we  are 
willing  to  be  known  as  philologists  in  the  truer  and  larger 
sense,  can  we  not  do  something  to  make  this  sense  the  pre- 
valent one,  by  consistently  adhering  to  it  in  our  practice,  and, 
4 


204  ALBERT  8.   COOK. 

so  far  as  possible,  inducing  others  to  accept  and  adopt  it? 
By  thus  doing,  we  shall  not  only  be  recognizing  a  truth 
which  is  indisputable,  but  also  be  promoting  that  harmony 
of  opinions  and  sentiments  without  which  the  most  strenuous 
individual  efforts  are  certain  to  prove  in  some  degree  nugatory. 

ALBERT  S.  COOK. 


V.— A  SONNET  ASCRIBED  TO  CHIARO  DAVANZATI 
AND  ITS  PLACE  IN  FABLE  LITERATURE. 

Of  the  poems  ascribed  to  Chiaro  Davanzati,  a  Florentine 
of  the  thirteenth  century,  one  of  the  most  interesting  is  the 
following  sonnet : 

Di  penne  di  paone  e  d'  altre  assai 

Vestita  la  corniglia  a  corte  andau ; 

Ma  gia  no  lasoiava  per  cid  lo  crai 

E  a  riguardo  sempre  cornigliau. 
5  Gli  augelli,  che  la  sguardar,  molto  splai 

Dele  lor  penne  ch'  essa  li  furau ; 

Lo  furto  le  ritorna  scheme  e  guai, 

Che  ciascun  di  sua  penna  la  spogliau. 
9  Per  te  lo  dico,  novo  canzonero, 

Che  t'  avesti  le  penne  del  Notaro 

E  vai  furando  lo  detto  stranero ; 
12  Si  co'  gli  augei  la  corniglia  spogliaro, 

Spoglieriati  per  falso  menzonero 

Se  fosse  vivo  Jacopo  Notaro. 

The  text  is  slightly  emended 1  from  that  of  the  Cod.  Vati- 
cano  3793,  as  published  in  the  edition  of  this  manuscript : 
D'Ancona  e  Comparetti,  Le  Antiche  Rime  Volgari,  Bologna, 
1875-88;  Vol.  iv  (1884),  No.  682,  p.  379.  The  sonnet  is 
also  in  the  Cod.  Vaticano  3214,  from  which  it  was  published 
in  1872  by  L.  Manzoni,  Rime  Inedite,  in  Rivista  di  Filologia 
Romanza,  I,  87,  and  recently  in  the  complete  edition  of  this 
manuscript :  Rime  Antiche  Italiane  ....  pub.  per  euro,  del 
doit.  Mario  Pelaez,  Bologna,  1895,  No.  117,  p.  102.2  The 

XMS.  readings:  2.  vistita  cornilylia  andari.  4.  corinigliau.  5.  ausdelli. 
6.  loro.  8.  daschuno  pena  spoglau.  12.  colgli  ausgieUi  la  cornilglia  spol- 
gliaro.  13.  spolglieriati.  14.  nolaio. 

'According  to  Manzoni,  L  c.,  "  la  lezione  del  nostro  codice  S  scorrettis- 
sima."  The  variants  in  the  text  as  published  by  Pelaez,  which  differs 
slightly  from  that  given  by  Manzoni,  are  as  follows:  2.  vestiti  andava. 
3.  ma  won  lasciava  gia  pero  lo  trai.  4.  e  cornigliai.  5.  I  augelli  ke  la  riguar- 
daro.  6.  k  esa  glifurai.  7.  li  torno  ghuai.  8.  spogliai.  9.  won  vo.  10.  kelti 
vesti.  11.  DO.  12.  siccome  gli  uccell  la  nigla.  13.  spogliereti.  14.  iacomin. 

205 


206  KENNETH    McKENZIE. 

first  mentioned  manuscript  I  shall  call  A,  the  second  B 
(references  to  the  edition  of  Pelaez).  The  sonnet  was  also 
published  in  1889  by  L.  Biadene,  Morfologia  del  Sonetto  nei 
Secoli  XIII  e  XIV,  in  Studj  di  Filologia  Romanza,  iv,  148 ; 
and  in  1897  by  E.  Monaci,  Crestomazia  Italiana  del  primi 
secoli,  fascicolo  secondo,  p.  309  (text  ostensibly  following  A, 
but  differing  from  that  given  by  D'Ancona  and  Comparetti). 
Before  entering  upon  the  literary  questions  which  this 
sonnet  suggests,  I  wish  to  call  attention  to  some  of  the 
words  in  it.  In  the  first  place,  corniglia  (A  cornilglia)  is 
properly  not  an  Italian  word  at  all ;  I  have  found  it  in  no 
dictionary,  but  it  occurs  in  two  other  texts, — a  canzone  by 
this  same  poet  Chiaro,1  and  a  North  Italian  poem  which 
shows  distinct  traces  of  Proven9al  influence.2  The  word 
appears  to  be  a  regular  descendant  from  cornicula  (diminutive 
of  comix),  which  gives  in  Proven9al  corne/ha  and  cornilha,  in 
French  corneitte,  in  Spanish  corneja,  in  Catalan  cornella,  and 
in  Rhaetoromance  cornaigl ;  but  the  Italian  word  correspond- 
ing to  these  is  cornacchia,  which  points  to  *cornacula.3  The 
latter  is  not  found,  but  the  intermediate  form  cornacla  occurs 
in  a  Venetian  text,  probably  of  the  thirteenth  century.4 
Corresponding  to  cornigliare  in  the  sonnet  is  the  verb  cor- 
nacchiare,  defined  by  Petrocchi,  Dizionario,  as  a  synonym  of 

*A  246,  in  Vol.  in  of  the  edition  cited.  Chiaro  compares  himself  to  a 
cornilglia,  and  Guittone  d'Arezzo  to  an  ausingnuolo. 

8  Mussafia,  Una  canzone  tratta  del  Cod.  Barberino  XL  F-47,  in  Rivisla  di 
Filologia  Bonanza,  n  (1875),  65-70;  republished  by  Monaci,  Orestomazia 
Italiana,  494,  "  Canzone  di  Auliver."  The  line :  Ne  i  val  agur  de  corf  ne  de 
cornigla  evidently  refers  to  the  use  of  ravens  and  crows  in  sooth-saying; 
cf.  Phaedrus,  nr,  18,  line  12 :  Augurium  corvo,  Iceva  cornici  omina.  Mussafia 
gives  cornacchia  as  the  equivalent  of  cornigla.  On  the  Barberini  MS.,  cf. 
Mouaci,  Da  Bologna  a  Palermo,  in  Morandi,  Antologia  della  Oritica  Let- 
teraria,  9a  ediz.,  1894,  p.  228  ff. 

3  See  Korting,  Lateinisch-romanisches  Worterbuch,  s.  v.  cornicula. 

*Exemplo  de  la  cornacla  com'  ela  se  visti,  a  version  of  the  same  fable  that  we 
have  in  the  sonnet.  Published  by  Ulrich,  first  in  Romania,  xin,  47,  and 
then  in  Trattati  Religiosi  e  Libro  de  li  Exempli,  Bologna,  1891,  second  part, 
No.  36.  On  this  collection  of  "examples,"  see  Giornale  Storico,  in,  320-2, 
and  xv,  257-72. 


A    SONNET   ASCRIBED   TO   CHIARO   DAVANZATI.         207 

gracchiare.  The  ordinary  Italian  form  is  due,  then,  to  a 
change  of  suffix,  for  which  analogies  are  not  wanting, — vol- 
pacchio  from  vulpecula,  and  abbacchio,  a  dialect  word,  from 
ovtcula,  which  has  no  regular  descendant  in  Italian.1  It  will 
be  noticed  that  these  words  also  are  the  names  of  animals ; 
and  perhaps  gracchia  from  gracula,  the  name  of  a  bird  belong- 
ing to  the  same  family  as  the  cornacchia,  may  have  exerted 
some  influence.2  In  regard  to  the  regular  descendants  from 
the  Latin,  Grober  says  :  "  Nur  das  Prov.  besitzt,  neben  der 
e-,  eine  i-Form,  die  auf  cornicula  hindeutet."3  Corniglia, 
however,  if  a  popular  formation,  would  naturally  point  to  -I- 
(cf.  coniglio  from  cunlculus4),  though  it  might  also  come  from 
-I-  (cf.  artiglio,  Prov.  artelh,  Fr.  orteil,  from  arttculus 5).  More 
probably  it  is  simply  borrowed  from  the  Prov.  cornilha,  of 
which  it  reproduces  the  pronunciation  in  Italian  orthography. 
This  view  is  strengthened  by  the  occurrence  of  the  word  in 

lSee  Caix,  Studj  di  Etimologia  iialiana  e  romanza,  Firenze,  1878,  No.  127 ; 
Grober  in  Wolfflin's  Archiv  fur  Lateinische  Lexicographic,  I,  552 ;  Korting, 
Wb'rlerbuch,  s.  v.  ovicula.  An  explanation  for  cornacchia  has  been  sought  in 
Umbrian  curnaco  (see  Romania,  iv,  509),  "doch  ohne  hinlanglichen  Grund" 
(Meyer-Liibke,  Italienische  Grammalik,  Leipzig,  1890,  p.  8). 

8  In  regard  to  such  influence  in  general,  cf.  Meyer-Liibke,  Ital.  Gram., 
pp.  273,  289. 

30p.  cit.,  Archiv,  I,  552.  In  classic  Latin,  cornicula  is  the  diminutive  of 
cornix,  cornfaulum  of  cornu  ;  see  George?,  Lat.-Deutsches  Wb'rterbuch. 

4  The  Ital.  coniglio,  Old  Fr.  connil,  Prov.  conilh,  point  to  -I-,  but  Span. 
conejo,  Port,  coelho,  to  -I-;  see  Grober,  op.  cit.,  Archiv,  vi,  384. 

5  See  Korting,  s.  v.,  and  Grober,  Archiv,  I,  243 ;  on  the  similar  word  ver- 
miglio,  Prov.  vermelh,  from  vermlculus,  sec  Grober,  Archiv,  vi,  140.     Chiaro 
uses  artitglio  in  A  637.    In  Grober's  Grundriss  der  rom.  Phil.,  I,  503,  I^Ovidio 
gives  the  rule  that  Lat.  I  remains  "  wenn  iotaciertes  I  folgt,"  and  mentions 
as  instances  origlia  (from  *auriculat)  and  ventriglio.     An  exception  to  this 
rule  is  to  be  found  in  oreglia  from  auricula  (cf.  Grober,  Archiv,  I,  246) ;  this 
may  be  due  to  the  analogy  of  orecchia,  which  is  regular  (cf.  D'Ovidio,  p. 
502) ;  but  of  the  instances  of  a  similar  analogy  which  D'Ovidio  mentions 
(p.  506),  cavicchia  and  lenticchia  lose  their  significance  when  we  find  that 
the  parallel  words  in  Prov.,  Fr.,  etc.,  point  to  cavlcula  and  lenllcula,  which 
would  give  -i-  in  Italian  (see  Korting,  s.  v.,  and  Grober,  Archiv,  I,  543,  in, 
511) ;  and  ventricchio  instead  of  ventrecchio  from  ventrlculus  (by  analogy  of  the 
regular  ventriglio)  is  perhaps  semi-learned,  cf.  ventriculo,  Fr.  ventricule. 


208  KENNETH    McKENZIE. 

the  Canzone  di  Auliver,  which  shows  other  evidences  of 
Proven9al  influence.1  The  author  of  our  sonnet,  while  he 
may  have  found  the  word  in  an  Italian  text,  probably  adopted 
it  himself  from  Provenfal.  The  alternative  theory  is  that  it 
really  comes  directly  from  the  Latin.  In  either  case,  the  verb 
cornigliare  was  doubtless  derived  from  the  noun  on  the  analogy 
of  cornacchiare  and  cornacchia. 

Another  peculiar  word  is  splai  (line  5).  According  to  the 
sense,  it  points  to  displace^  but  the  form  is  anomalous  for 
Italian;  the  regular  forms  are  displace  and  spiace,  which 
might  appear  as  spiace.2  Plai  from  placet  is  regular  in 
Rhaetoromance,3  and  splai  may  possibly  be  an  Italian  dialect 
form.4  But  here  also  we  find  the  best  explanation  in  Pro- 
veii9al,  which  has  the  forms  platz  and  plai  from  placet,  and 
desplai  from  displaced5  Probably  our  poet,  for  the  sake  of 
the  rhyme,  adopted  the  Proven9al  form,  merely  using  splai 
instead  of  desplai  for  the  negative  of  plai;  this  he  might 
naturally  do,  as  the  Italian  has  two  forms  of  the  verb,  dis- 
piacere  and  spiacere. 

Still  another  peculiarity  is  the  ending  -au  in  the  third 
singular  preterite.  The  regular  Tuscan  ending  for  verbs  of 
the  first  conjugation  is  -d,  coming  from  -ami  through  -out. 
The  ending  -ao  is  found  in  poets  of  South  Italy,  and  occa- 
sionally in  Tuscany.  In  South  Italy  -au  also  occurs,  but 

1  See  notes  of  Mussafia,  L  c. 

*Cf.  Meyer-Liibke,  Ital.  Gram.,  pp.  116,  312;  Mastrofini,  Teoria  e  Pro- 
spetlo  de'  Verbi,  Milano,  1830,  pp.  712-14. 

3  Gartner,  Ratoromanische  Grammatik,  $  154. 

4  Cf.  fai,  Meyer-Liibke  in  Grober's  Grundriss,  I,  538 ;  and  piaito  beside 
the  more  usual  piato  from  placitum,  see  Grober,  in  Archiv,  iv,  439 ;  Thomsen, 
in  Romania,  iv,  262 :  Meyer-Liibke,  Ital.  Gram.,  59 ;  Korting,  Worterbuch, 
8.  v.  placitum. 

5Crescini,  Manualetto  Provenzale,  Padova,  1894,  pp.  xxxix,  cxxxi,  and 
glossary  s.  v.  plazer;  Suchier  in  Grober's  Grundriss,  i,  610.  Desplai 
occurs,  e.  g.,  in  a  poem  by  Calvo,  the  Genoese  Troubadour,  Crescini,  op. 
cit.,  p.  145 ;  Bartsch,  Chrestomathie  Provengale,  5e  ed.,  Berlin,  1892,  col.  276, 
cf.  444. 


A   SONNET   ASCRIBED   TO   CHIARO   DAVANZATI.         209 

more  rarely ; l  and  that  it  was  unfamiliar  in  Tuscany  may  be 
inferred  from  the  blundering  changes  in  MS.  B  (see  readings, 
above).  Biadene2  thinks  that  the  strange  endings  of  the 
rhyme-words  in  the  first  eight  lines  were  used  with  the  inten- 
tion of  suggesting  the  caw  (crai)  of  the  crow.  It  is  to  be 
noted  that  the  two  rhymes  (-ai  and  -au)  differ  only  in  the 
final  vowel,  and  that  in  the  last  six  lines  the  rhymes  (-wo 
and  -aro)  are  in  consonance  with  each  other.  The  purpose  of 
this  arrangement  and  of  the  use  of  the  verbal  termination  -au 
must  have  been  to  produce  an  effect  on  the  ear;  doubtless 
crai,  one  of  the  regular  Italian  words  for  "  caw,"  set  the  key 
for  the  rhymes.3 

As  to  the  authorship  of  the  sonnet,  there  is  some  doubt. 
In  MS.  A  it  is  ascribed  to  Chiaro  Davanzati,  while  in  B  it  has 
this  heading :  Questo  mando  maestro  francesco  a  ser  bonagiunta 
dallucha.  This  implies,  though  it  does  not  say  definitely,  that 
Francesco  wrote  the  sonnet  (cf.  the  headings  of  Nos.  69,  71, 
124,  etc.,  in  B).  To  a  Mastro  Francesco  di  Firenze4  are 
ascribed  in  A  a  canzone  (No.  197)  and  six  sonnets  (Nos.  496- 
8,  500-2),  the  latter  closely  following  the  sonnets  of  Bona- 
giunta da  Lucca.  There  are  no  poems  in  B  ascribed  to 

1  See  Caix,  Origini  ddla  Lingua  Poetica  Itcdiana,  Firenze,  1880,  pp.  98-9, 
228;  Meyer-Liibke,  Ital.  Gram.,  p.  227.  Chiaro  Davanzati  uses  -ao  (inamorao, 
A  560,  Monaci,  Crest.,  251),  and  so  do  Guittone  (Caix,  1.  c.)  and  Guinizelli 
(Casini,  Rime  di  Poeti  Bol.,  p.  34).  In  Brunette  Latini  -ao  was  changed 
to  -oe  or  -o  by  Tuscan  copyists  (see  Wiese,  in  Zeitschr.  f.  Rom.  Phil.,  vn, 
286). 

*Morfologia  del  Sonetio,  p.  148. 

3  The  voice  of  the  crow  and  other  birds  of  the  kind  is  often  mentioned  in 
mediaeval  literature;  e.  g.,  Rustico  Filippi  (A  856,  Monaci,  Crest.,  250): 
Risembra  corbo  nel  canlare.    There  is  a  proverb  which  says :  Di  crai  in  crai 
si  pasce  la  cornacchia  (see  Petrocchi,  Dizionario,  s.  v.  era  and  crai).    In  Latin 
the  usual  word  for  "  caw  "  is  eras;  cf.  Vincent  of  Beauvais,  Speculum  Nalurale 
[Strassburg,  1473],  xvu,  cap.  Ixi :  Corvus  avis  clamosa  nichil  aliud  sonare  novit 
quam  eras  eras.     Etienne  de  Bourbon's  Anecdotes  Hi&toriques  [in  Latin],  ed. 
Lecoy  de  la  Marche,  Paris,  1877,  p.  19. 

4  This  Francesco  is  hardly  likely  to  be  the  same  as  Francesco  Smera 
di  Becchennugi  di  Firenze,  B  180  (called  Francesco  Ismera  in  the  Cod. 
Chigiano  L.  vm.  305,  No.  58:  Propugnatore,  x,  1,  p.  312). 


210  KENNETH    McKENZIE. 

Chiaro,  though  one  (182,  anonymous)  is  addressed  to  him. 
In  A  our  sonnet  comes  among  the  tenzoni;  and  the  three 
sonnets  preceding  it  form  a  tenzone,  as  follows :  679,  anon. ; 
680,  the  answer  by  Chiaro;  681,  anon.,  with  the  same  rhymes 
in  the  first  eight  lines  of  each.  The  tenzone  is  a  discussion  of 
the  question  whether  love  is  painful.  Then  comes  682,  with 
an  entirely  different  set  of  rhymes,  and  having  apparently  no 
connection  with  the  preceding,  while  over  679  is  the  heading : 
Tenzone  IIII,  that  is,  tenzone  of  four  sonnets ;  but,  as  Gaspary 
has  pointed  out,1  the  heading  should  be  :  Tenzone  IIL  If, 
however,  682  were  really  a  part  of  the  tenzone,  it  would 
naturally  be  by  Chiaro;  and  accordingly  his  name  might 
have  been  inserted  if  the  sonnet,  for  some  reason  put  in  by 
itself  among  the  tenzoni,  had  previously  been  left  anonymous. 
Yet  these  entirely  indecisive  considerations  should  have  little 
weight  in  favor  of  B  against  the  greater  age  and  authority  of 
A.  Furthermore,  the  peculiar  word  corniglia,  used  here  and 
in  A  246,  speaks  for  Chiaro,  for  having  used  it  once  he  might 
easily  have  repeated  it.  This  word  I  have  explained  as  a 
borrowing  from  Proven9al ;  and  we  know  that  Chiaro  was 
acquainted  with  this  language,  for  one  of  his  poems  (A  250) 
is  an  unmistakable  imitation  of  a  poem  by  Sordello.2 

Yet  if  we  accept  the  attribution  of  A,  we  lose  our  authority 
for  believing  that  the  sonnet  was  sent  to  Bonagiunta  da  Lucca, 
for  this  is  stated  only  in  B.  It  is  not  difficult,  however,  to 

1  Zeibchr.f.  Rom.  Phil,  x,  590. 

*  This  was  pointed  out  by  Gaspary,  Scuola  Poetica  Siciliana,  trad.  Fried- 
mann,  Livorno,  1882,  pp.  39-43.  Cf.  C.  de  Lollis,  Vita  e  Poesie  di  SordeUo 
di  Goito  (Romanische  Bib.,  xi),  Halle,  1896,  No.  32,  and  notes  on  p.  289  f. 
Since  Chiaro  was  certainly  familiar  with  this  poem  by  Sordello,  it  is  per- 
haps significant  to  find  in  it  the  form  plai,  which  I  have  indicated  as  the 
source  of  the  word  splai.  The  first  line  reads:  Bel  cavaler  me  plai,  qeper 
amor.  De  Lollis  emends :  Bels  cavalers ;  but  if  we  accept  another  emenda- 
tion which  has  been  suggested  (ibid.),  namely:  Del  cavaler,  we  get  exactly 
the  same  construction  as  in  our  sonnet :  Oli  augelli  ....  splai  Delle  lor  penne. 
In  A  250  Chiaro  shows  that  he  is  capable  of  using  "  a  crude  Provenpalism  " 
(cf.  Gaspary,  I.  c.). 


A   SONNET   ASCRIBED   TO   CHIARO   DAVANZATI.         211 

assume,  as  some  writers1  do,  that  Chiaro  wrote  the  sonnet,  and 
that  it  was  sent  to  Bonagiunta  by  Francesco,  if  not  by  Chiaro 
himself.  At  any  rate,  it  is  generally  agreed  that  Bonagiunta 
deserved  the  accusation  of  parading  in  the  penne  del  Notaro. 
The  criticism  agrees  very  well  with  the  words  that  Dante 
puts  into  Bonagiunta's  mouth  : 

'  O  frate,  issa  veggio,'  disse,  '  il  nodo 
Che  il  Notaro,  e  Guittone,  e  me  ritenne 
Di  qua  dal  dolce  stil  nuovo  ch'  i'  odo. 
lo  veggio  ben  come  le  vostre  penne 
Diretro  al  dittator  sen  vanno  strette, 
Che  delle  nostre  certo  non  avvenne.'  * 

As  in  our  sonnet,  il  Notaro,  Giacomo  da  Lentino,  is  here 
taken  as  the  foremost  representative  of  the  Sicilian  school. 
Of  this  school  Bonagiunta  was  a  distinguished  member  in  the 
second  half  of  the  thirteenth  century,  and  he  did  not  lack 
admirers.3  Guittone  d'Arezzo,  a  more  original  and  more 
influential  poet  of  the  same  period,  was  looked  up  to  as  a 
master  by  Guido  Guinizelli,4  who  is  in  turn  called  by  Dante 
(Purg.,  xxvi,  91-135)  the  father  of  the  poets  of  the  dolce  stil 
nuovo.  For  his  change  of  style  Guinizelli  was  reproved  by 
Bonagiunta  in  the  sonnet  Voi  ch'  avete  mutata  la  manera,  but 
Guinizelli  got  the  better  of  the  argument  with  the  sonnet 
which  he  sent  in  reply :  Omo  ch'  &  sagio  non  corre  legiero.6  It 

Tasini  in  Rivista  Oriiica  d.  Lett.  Ital.,  i  (1884),  71,  but  cf.  Grober's 
Grundriss,  Bd.  n,  Abt.  3  (1896),  p.  18 ;  D'Ancona  e  Bacci,  Manuale  d.  Lett. 
Ital.,  i,  42 ;  Torraca  (see  quotation  below).  In  mentioning  the  sonnet,  the 
following  express  no  opinion  as  to  its  authorship:  Gaspary,  op.  cit.,  173; 
Biadene,  /.  c.  ;  Monaci,  in  his  article  Da  Bologna,  a  Palermo  (Morandi's 
Antoloyia,  233). 

2Purg.,  xxiv,  55-60  (Moore's  text,  Oxford,  1894).  Perhaps  Dante  intro- 
duced the  colloquial  word  issa  to  indicate  that  Bonagiunta  did  not  use  the 
volgare  illustre;  cf.  Vulg.  Eloq.,  I,  13. 

3Cf.  the  anonymous  poems  A  783  (Monaci,  Oresl.,  308)  and  781. 

4  See  the  sonnet  0  caro  padre  mio  di  vostra  laude,  Casini,  Rime  dei  Poeti 
Bolognesi,  Bologna,  1881,  p.  39. 

1  These  two  sonnets,  A  785  and  786,  have  often  been  printed,  e.  g.,  by 
Monaci,  Crest.,  303  (with  variants  of  several  MSS.). 


212  KENNETH    McKENZIE. 

has  been  suggested l  that  in  the  line 

"  Volan  per  aire  ausgiei  di  strane  guise  " 

he  was  alluding  to  the  criticism  in  Chiaro's  sonnet. 

Now  what  was  Chiaro's  relation  to  these  various  poets? 
Monaci  declares  (Orest.,  309)  that  he  was  a  follower  and  imi- 
tator of  the  Notary  even  more  than  Bonagiunta  was,  and 
that,  therefore,  he  could  hardly  have  made  the  criticism  con- 
tained in  our  sonnet.  This  argument  leads  Monaci  to  accept 
the  attribution  in  MS.  B ;  but  if  it  has  any  force  in  the  case  of 
Chiaro,  it  has  tenfold  more  in  the  case  of  Maestro  Francesco, 
whose  commonplace  poems  contain  nothing  but  what  a  score 
of  others  had  said.  It  is  quite  true  that  at  one  period  of  his 
activity  Chiaro  decked  his  verse  in  plumes  borrowed  from 
the  Provenpal  and  Sicilian  poets  and  from  Guittone  d'Arezzo; 
but  there  is  great  variety  in  his  work ;  we  find  political  poems, 
realistic  poems  in  popular  style,  attempts  at  philosophy,  and 
finally  indications  of  the  influence  of  Guiuizelli  and  the  dolee 
stil  nuovo.  He  is  at  his  best  in  poems  of  a  semi-popular  style, 
when  he  casts  loose  from  the  conventionality  and  the  metrical 
intricacy  of  the  Sicilians,  and  appears  as  a  poet  of  the  Floren- 
tine people.  In  his  own  development  he  exemplifies  the 
emancipation  of  Italian  poetry  from  the  Sicilian  school,  and 
the  preparation  of  the  way  for  Dante  and  his  circle.2  The 
writer  of  our  sonnet  must  have  been  a  man  of  considerable 
originality;  this  Chiaro  incontestably  was,  and  there  is  cer- 

1  By  F.  Torraca,  La  Scuola  Poelica  Siciliana,  in  Nuova  Anlologia,  3  za  ser., 
vol.  54  (1894),  p.  471 :  "Non  £  una  sanguinosa  quantunque  ben  dissimulata 
allusione  all'  accusa  di  Chiaro  Davanzati,  che  il  lucchese  fosse  una  corniglia, 
rivestita  delle  penne  del  Notaro?" 

2  When  he  says  (in  the  canzone  beginning  Talento  agio  di  dire,  A  235, 
Monaci,  OresL,  254) : 

Audit'  agio  nomare 
Che  'n  gentil  core  amore 
Fa  suo  porto,  etc., 

he  is  evidently  referring  to  Guinizelli's  famous  poem,  Al  cor  genlil  ripara 
sempre  amore  (A  106).    Compare  also  A  243,  259,  749,  and  especially  253. 


A   SONNET   ASCRIBED   TO   CHIARO   DA.VANZATI.         213 

tainly  no  ground  for  saying  that  he  was  not  in  a  position  to 
send  to  any  of  his  brother  poets  who  still  clung  to  the  old 
traditions  the  accusation  of  borrowing  plumes.  If  the  sonnet 
is  to  be  taken  away  from  him,  then,  it  must  be  by  an  argu- 
ment much  stronger  than  that  which  Monaci  advances. 

Chiaro  Davanzati  is  to  be  regarded,  then,  as  the  probable 
author.  Of  his  life  we  unfortunately  know  nothing  except 
that  he  was  a  Florentine,  that  he  fought  at  Montaperti  in 
1260,  and  that  he  died  not  later  than  1280.1  He  was  un- 
usually prolific  for  a  poet  of  that  time.  We  find  in  MS.  A 
sixty-one  canzoni  and  more  than  a  hundred  sonnets  ascribed 
to  him.  Few  of  these  poems  were  known  before  their  publi- 
cation in  Vols.  in-v  of  the  Antiche  Rime  Volgari,  and  almost 
none  of  them  occur  in  other  manuscripts.2  To  this  fact  is  due 
the  slight  attention  paid  to  him  until  recently ;  he  is  now 
recognized  as  an  interesting  and  important  member  of  the 
group  of  poets  in  Florence  immediately  before  the  time  of 
Dante.3  Not  all  of  his  poems',  fortunately,  would  be  likely  to 
call  forth  so  much  comment  as  I  have  devoted  to  this  one ; 

1  See  Novati  in  Oiornale  Storico,  v.  404. 

*  A  285  and  769  are  also  in  the  Cod.  Laur.  Red.  9  (Nos.  85  and  354), 
and  were  printed  by  Valeriani,  Poeti  del  Primo  secolo,  Firenze,  1816,  n,  44; 
No.  85  also  by  Casini,  Tesli  inediti,  Bologna,  1883.  Nannucci,  Manuale, 
reprints  six  sonnets  from  Massi,  Saggio  di  Rime,  Roma,  1840.  A  few  other 
poems  were  published  by  Trucchi,  Poesie,  Prato,  1840;  D'Ancona  in  Pro- 
pugnalore,  vi,  350  ff;  Zabban,  Chiaro  Davanzati,  VI  sonetti  inediti,  Pisa, 
1872.  Since  the  publication  of  A,  a  number  of  the  poems  have  been  re- 
printed by  D'Ancona  e  Bacci,  Manuale,  I,  73;  by  Monaci,  Crest.,  fasc.  2,  and 
by  others.  Bertacchi,  Le  Rime  di  Dante  da  Maiano.  Bergamo,  1896,  p.  74, 
publishes  from  two  other  MSS.  two  previously  unpublished  sonnets  attributed 
to  Chiaro  in  correspondence  with  "Dante."  To  the  reasons  which  Ber- 
tacchi gives,  p.  73,  for  believing  that  the  Dante  in  question  is  he  of  Maiano, 
may  be  added  the  further  reason  that,  as  Chiaro  died  not  later  than  1280, 
there  could  not  well  have  been  any  correspondence  between  him  and  Dante 
Alighieri.  The  first  lines  of  these  sonnets  were  given  in  Propugnatore, 
xxin,  2,  p.  396. 

3  See  Casini  in  Rivisla  Critica,  I,  69-78,  and  in  Grober's  Grundriss,  ir,  3, 
p.  22;  Gaspary,  Scuola  Siciliana,  and  in  Zeitschr.f.  R.  P.,  ix,  571 ;  Witte  in 
Bohmer's  Romanische  Studien,  I,  114;  D'Ancona  e  Bacci,  /.  c. ;  Goldschmidt, 
Dokirin  der  Liebe,  Breslau,  1889 ;  Bertacchi,  op.  tit.,  p.  liv. 


214  KENNETH    McKENZIE. 

but  before  taking  leave  of  it  I  wish  to  consider  it  in  one  more 
aspect, — namely,  in  its  position  and  significance  in  the  history 
of  -ZEsopic  fables. 

We  have  here,  evidently,  a  version  of  the  fable  of  the  bird 
in  borrowed  feathers ;  yet  it  is  not  mentioned  in  the  mono- 
graph on  this  fable  by  Fuchs  (Die  Fabel  von  der  Krdhe  die 
sich  mit  fremden  Federn  schmuckt,  Berlin,  1886),  nor,  as  far  as 
I  am  aware,  in  any  other  work  on  fables.  Without  at  present 
going  very  deeply  into  the  literary  history  of  this  fable,  I  will 
merely  say  sufficient  to  show  clearly  the  position  occupied  by 
Chiaro's  version.  To  begin  with,  Chiaro  shows  originality 
in  his  choice  of  a  subject  as  well  as  in  his  treatment  of  it; 
for  no  other  Italian  poet  of  the  time  gives  us  a  fable  in  a 
version  similar  to  this.1  Yet  from  occasional  references  we 
may  infer  that  fables,  besides  being  gathered  in  collections, 
were  then,  as  now,  subjects  of  common  knowledge.  The 
reader  will  hardly  need  to  be  reminded  that  Dante,  for 
example,  speaks  of  fables  of  JEsop.2  The  Florentine  poet 
Monte  Andrea,  a  contemporary  of  Chiaro,  very  likely  has  in 
mind  the  fable  of  borrowed  feathers  when  he  says  (A  283) : 

Chi  e  si  preso,  ciascun  om  li  pare  orbo, 
Men  cura  il  disonore  che  lo  corbo. 

Curiously  enough,  this  same  fable  is  referred  to  by  two  of 
the  Proven9al  poets.  In  the  poem,  Un  sirventes  on,  motz  no 
falh,  Bertran  de  Born  says : 

Baro,  Dieus  vos  salf  e  vos  guart 
E  vos  ajut  e  vos  valha 
Eus  do  que  digatz  a'n  Kichart 
So  quel  paus  dis  a  la  gralha.3 

1  Unless  the  poem,  Quando  il  consiglio  degli  augei  si  tenne,  mentioned  below, 
belong  to  this  period. 

2/n/.,  xxin,  4 ;  Com,  iv,  30.  The  not  too  intelligent  comments  on  these 
passages  in  Moore,  Studies  in  Dante,  Oxford,  1896,  pp.  16,  294,  show  how 
little  the  fable  literature  of  the  Middle  Ages  is  understood. 

5  Slimming' s  second  edition,  Halle,  1892  (Eomanische  Bib.,  vni),  No.  2, 
lines  50-3.  Edition  of  Thomas,  Toulouse,  1888,  p.  8. 


A  SONNET   ASCRIBED   TO   CHIARO   DAVANZATI.         215 

Similarly,  Guiraut  de  Borneil : 

Com  fes  de  la  gralha  paus.1 

We  may  notice  in  this  connection  one  more  version  of  the 
same  fable,  a  curious  little  poem  which  begins  as  follows : 

Quando  il  consiglio  degli  augei  si  tenne 

Di  nicista  convenne 

Che  ciascun  comparisse  a  tal  novella, 

E  la  Cornacchia  maliziosa  e  fella 

Penso  mutar  gonella, 

E  da  molti  altri  augei  accattd  penne, 

Et  adornossi,  e  nel  consiglio  venne. .  .  . 

This  was  first  published  in  1685  by  Francesco  Redi,  who 
states  that  it  is  in  an  old  manuscript  belonging  to  him,  and 
that  it  was  written  by  Dante.2  This  attribution  is  rejected 
by  Witte  and  by  Fraticelli,3  partly  on  aesthetic  grounds,  and 
partly  because  they  could  not  find  the  poem  in  Redi's  manu- 
script or  in  any  other.  It  is,  nevertheless,  in  a  manuscript 
of  the  fifteenth  century,  with  Dante's  name ;  and  in  another, 
anonymous.4  Carducci  defends  the  authenticity  of  questa 
piccola  ma  graziosissima  pitturina  di  genere,5  and  it  has  fre- 
quently been  granted  a  place  among  the  works  of  Dante.6 

1  Mahn,  Werke  der  Troubadours,  Berlin,  1846, 1,  197. 

8F.  Redi,  Bacco  in  Toscana,  con  le  annolazioni,  Firenze,  1685.  The  diti- 
rambo  itself  occupies  pp.  1-46,  followed  by  the  notes,  which  are  paged 
separately;  pp.  99-123  contain  a  note  on  sonelti,  with  the  poem  in  question 
on  p.  104.  For  other  editions,  see  Imbert,  //  Bacco  in  Toscana  di  F.  Redi, 
Citta  di  Castello,  1890,  p.  75. 

*  Kannegiesser  und  Witte,  Dante  Alighierts  lyrische  Gedichte,  2te  Aufl., 
Leipzig,  1842,  n,  pp.  xiii,  Ixxvii ;  Fraticelli,  Canzoniere  di  Dante  (Opere 
Minori,  i),  Firenze,  1873,  pp.  274-6. 

4  See  Biadene,  op.  cit.,  pp.  44  (note),  55;  cf.  Carte  di  Eilancioni,  in  Pro- 
pugnatore,  xxn,  1,  p.  39. 

*Studi  Letterari,  2a  ed.,  Livorno,  1880,  p.  156  f. 

6  E.  g.,  Prose  e  Rime  Liriche  di  Dante,  Venezia,  1758,  iv,  335  (Ballata  vii) ; 
Opera  di  D.,  Venezia,  1772,  n,  249 ;  Opera  poetiche  di  D.,  ed.  Buttura,  Parigi, 
1823,  i,  200;  Canzoniere  of  Dante  translated  by  C.  Lyell,  London,  1835, 
pp.  266-7  (and  in  later  editions) ;  Raccolta  di  Favoleggiatori  Ilaliani,  Firenze, 
1833,  p.  405. 


216  KENNETH   McKENZIE. 

In  form  it  is  a  sonMo  rinterzato,1  but  of  an  irregular  variety 
which  is  used  elsewhere  only  in  a  few  poems  by  Antonio 
Pucci.2  The  irregularity  of  form  raises  suspicions  as  to  the 
attribution  to  Dante,  but  as  the  sonetto  rinterzato  was  not  in 
use  after  the  fourteenth  century,  the  poem  would  seem  to  be 
little  later  than  the  time  of  Dante,  if  not  actually  written  by 
him.  A  later  writer,  it  is  true,  might  have  composed  the 
poem  in  this  antique  form  for  the  purpose  of  passing  it  off 
more  readily  as  a  work  of  the  fourteenth  century ;  but  so  far 
as  subject-matter  and  style  are  concerned,  it  might  have  been 
written  then. 

To  return,  where  did  Chiaro  get  the  subject  of  his  sonnet? 
It  is  known  that  through  the  Middle  Ages  the  ^Esopic  fables 
were  current  chiefly  in  versions  of  the  paraphrase  of  Phaedrus 
which  goes  by  the  name  of  Romulus.3  In  these  versions,  a 
bird  of  some  ugly  species  finds  peacock  feathers,  decks  itself 
in  them,  and  tries  to  associate  with  the  peacocks;  driven  away 
in  scorn,  it  is  also  repulsed  by  its  own  former  companions,  one 

1  On  this  form  see  Biadene,  op.  cit.,  44-61 ;  Casini,  Forme  Melriche  Ital., 
2a  ed.,  Firenze,  1890,  pp.  41-3 ;  also  the  older  writers,  A.  da  Tempo,  Delle 
Rime  Volyari,  ed.  Grion,  Bologna,  1869,  p.  83  ff.;  Gidino  da  Somrnarum- 
pagna,  Ritmi  Volgari,  ed.  Giuliari,  Bologna,  1870,  p.  17  ff.;  F.  Kedi,  /.  c. 
According  to  Biadene,  /.  c.,  the  MSS  do  not  bear  out  the  distinction  between 
sonelli  doppi  and  rinterzati  made,  e.  g.,  in  the  notes  to  D'Ancona's  edition  of 
Dante's  Vila  Nuova,  Pisa,  1872,  and  in  Ercole,  G.  Cavalcanti  e  le  sue  rime, 
Livorno,  1885,  p.  337.  The  second  and  fourth  sonnets  of  the  Vita  Nuova 
are  rinterzati  with  twenty  lines  each.  Quando  il  consiglio  has  twenty-four 
lines  thrown  by  the  sense  into  four  equal  groups;  this  grouping,  which 
Biadene  classes  as  degenerate,  is  of  course  irregular  for  any  kind  of  sonnet. 

*  See  Biadene,  op.  cit.,  55.  On  Pucci,  a  semi-popular  poet  of  the  fourteenth 
century,  see  D'Ancona  e  Bacci,  Manuale,  I,  530. 

3 See  Hervieux,  Les  Fabulistes  Latins,  tomes  I,  II  (Pkedre  et  ses  imitateura), 
2e  e*d.,  Paris,  1893-4;  Robert,  Fables  Inedites,  Paris,  1825;  Oesterley,  Romu- 
lus, Berlin,  1870;  Jacobs,  Fables  of  JEnop,  London,  1889;  S ud re,  Les  Sources 
du  Roman  de  Renart,  Paris,  1892,  pp.  52  ff. ;  and  other  works  on  the  history 
of  fables.  Fuchs,  op.  cit.,  gives  an  account  of  this  particular  fable,  but 
omits  to  mention  some  important  versions, — those  by  Stainhowel  and  Uno 
da  Siena,  to  speak  of  only  two;  what  he  says,  pp.  20-1,  on  the  relation  of 
the  version  of  Phaedrus  (i,  3)  to  the  Greek  versions  is  especially  worth 
noticing. 


A   SONNET   ASCRIBED   TO   CHIARO   DAVANZATI. 

of  whom  gives  it  good  advice  on  the  subject  of  false  pride. 
The  name  of  the  bird  varies;  it  is  (lie  jackdaw  (</r(icuhix}  in 
the  Latin  versions,  but  sometimes  becomes  the  raven,  the  crow, 
or  the  jay  in  other  languages.  The  Troubadours  mentioned 
above  follow  presumably  some  Latin  version,  since  in  their 
brief  references  to  the  fable  they  use  the  word  <jralha;  the 
fragment  of  a  Provenpal  fable-book  published  by  Pio  Rajna 
has  corp.1  This  form  of  the  Table  is,  perhaps,  best  known  in 
the  version  of  La  Fontaine  (iv,  9):  Le  Geai  part  des  plumes 
du  Paon. 

Now  outside  the  fable  books  of  the  Phaedrus  family  there 
are  a  number  of  versions  distinctly  different  in  character; 
the  corniculd  which  Horace  mentions2  is  not  the  graculus  of 
Phaedrus.  These  versions  are  of  a  type  older  than  Phaedrus, 
resembling  rather  the  Greek  form  of  the  fable.  The  bird 
is  almost  invariably  the  crow,  which  makes  its  display  of 
borrowed  feathers  before  a  council  or  assembly  of  birds;  the 
peacock,  so  far  from  being  one  of  the  central  figures  as  in 
Phaedrns,  is  usually  not  even  mentioned;  the  feathers  belong 
to  various  birds,  all  of  which  join  to  strip  the  crow  when  the 
deceit  is  discovered.  Chiaro's  version  evidently  belongs  to 
this  class,  for  it  has  elements  which  arc  foreign  to  Phaedrus; 
the  crow  (oorniglia  =  cornivuhi)  is  decked  in  the  feathers 
of  the  peacock  and  mttny  other  birds,  and  goes  to  court.  The 
word  paone  suggests,  what  is  in  itself  probable,  that  Chiaro 
was  familiar  with  one  of  the  Phaedrns  versions  also.  For 
his  purposes  of  literary  satire;  he  did  not,  need  to  do  more 
than  hint  at  the  incidents  of  the  fable,  yet  he  says  enough  to 
show  distinctly  which  type  he  followed,  though  we  are  not 
able  to  distinguish  his  immediate  source.  The  poem  pub- 
lished by  liedi  also  follows  the  Greek  'type;  the  crow  comes 

'.Romania,  nr,  291-4. 
'Epist.,  i,  iii,  18-20: 

Ne,  si  forte  repetitum  venerit  olim 

(Jrex  aviurn  plumas,  moveat  Cornicula  risum 

Kuril  vis  nudata  coloribus. 


218  KENNETH    McKENZIE. 

to  the  council  of  birds  decked  in  the  feathers  of  many  other 
birds;  and  the  peacock  is  not  introduced.  A  number  of  other 
mediaeval  versions  of  this  type  are  included  by  Fuchs  in  his 
monograph, — theExemplo  de  la  Cornacla  already  referred  to, 
the  Latin  versions  of  Odo  of  Cheriton1  and  Nicolaus  Perga- 
menus,  two  Old  French  versions  first  published  by  Robert2 
in  1825,  one  of  which  is  from  Renart  le  Contrefait,  and  a 
German  version  in  Kirchhof's  Wendunmuth.  Since  Fuchs 
wrote,  another  Latin  version  has  been  made  known  by  the 
publication  of  the  Exempla  of  Jacques  deVitry.3  There  are, 
however,  several  other  important  versions  which  Fuchs  ought 
to  have  known, — in  the  first  place,  our  two  Italian  poems ; 
then  a  very  interesting  version,  somewhat  different  from  the 
others,  in  a  political  speech  in  the  chronicles  of  Froissart.4 
From  Froissart,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  the  fable  was  taken  by 
James  Howell,  who  introduces  it  in  his  curious  work,  Dodona's 
Grove  or  the  Vocall  Forrest.5  I  will  mention  further  merely 
the  Hebrew  "  fables  of  foxes,"  Mislile  Shu'alim,  of  Rabbi 
Berachyah  ben  Natronai  ha-Nakdan,  whom  Jacobs  with 
plausibility  locates  in  England  in  the  twelfth  century  ;6  here 

'To  Odo  or  Eudes  of  Cheriton  and  his  imitators,  Hervieux  devotes  the 
entire  fourth  volume  of  his  Fabulistes  Latins,  Paris,  1896 ;  he  previously 
included  them  in  Vols.  I  and  u  of  his  first  edition,  1883-4;  cf.  P.  Meyer  in 
Romania,  xrv,  381-97.  On  the  fourth  volume  of  Hervieux,  and  for  infor- 
mation on  Odo,  see  especially  Haure"au  in  Journal  des  Savants,  Fe"v.,  1896, 
p.  Ill  ff. 

^Fables  inedites,  I,  248  ff.;  P.  Meyer,  Recueil  d'anciens  iextes,  Paris,  1877, 
p.  355,  also  gives  the  anonymous  poem  which  Robert  attributes  without 
reason  to  Marie  de  France. 

'Edited  by  T.  F.  Crane,  London,  1890;  No.  249,  p.  105. 

4(Euvres  de  Froissart,  pub.  par  K.  de  Lettenhove,  Brurelles,  xi,  254. 

*Afv8po\oyia — Dodona's  Grove,  or,  the  Vocall  Forrest.  By  I.  H.  Esqr.  By 
T.  B.  for  H.  Mosley  at  the  Princes  Armes  in  St  Paules  Church-yard,  1640. 
The  fable  is  on  pp.  73-4.  HowelPs  name  appears  on  p.  219.  Cf.  Diet,  of 
Nat.  Biog.,  xxvin,  109  ff. 

6  See  Jacobs,  Fables  ofJEsop,  i,  168-78.  I  know  two  editions  of  Berachyah ; 
one  in  Hebrew  and  Latin :  Parabolae  Vulpium  Rabbi  Barachiae  Nikdani 
translatae.  ...  M.  Hanel,  Pragae,  1661 ;  the  other,  incomplete,  in  Hebrew 
alone  (but  with  title-page  also  in  Russian),  Warsaw,  1874.  Robert,  op.  cil., 


A    SONNET   ASCRIBED   TO   CHIARO   DAVANZATI.         219 

the  fable  of  borrowed  feathers  shows  no  evidence  of  having 
been  influenced  by  the  Phaedrus  type;  the  raven,  ashamed 
of  his  blackness,  puts  off  his  own  feathers,  takes  a  feather 
from  each  of  the  other  birds  (the  peacock  not  being  mentioned), 
and  shows  himself  at  the  cross-roads,  where  the  other  birds 
gather  around  him  and  strip  him.  On  the  other  hand,  Marie 
de  France,  whose  fables  are  related  to  those  of  Berachyah, 
has  elements  of  both  the  Phaedrus  and  the  Greek  type.1 

In  anticipation  of  a  more  elaborate  study  of  the  subject 
upon  which  I  am  engaged,  a  few  words  may  be  said  now  as 
to  the  significance  of  the  facts  I  have  touched  upon  in  the 
history  of  fables  and  of  mediaeval  literature  in  general. 
After  the  revival  of  Greek  learning  in  Europe,  the  Greek 
versions  of  our  fable  of  course  became  familiar.  They  differ 
distinctly,  as  we  have  seen,  from  the  versions  of  the  fable 
books  which  descend  from  Phaedrus.  But  even  in  the  Middle 
Ages  as  well,  when  the  Greek  fables  were  not  directly  known, 
there  were  current  various  scattered  versions  resembling  the 
Greek  type.  We  have,  then,  indications  of  two  streams  of 
fable  literature  passing  through  the  Middle  Ages;  one  we 
may  call  literary,  since  it  possesses  a  line  of  descent  which  is 
for  the  most  part  clearly  distinguishable  in  one  version  after 
another  from  Phaedrus  down;  while  the  other  stream  is  by 
contrast  popular.  The  versions  of  our  fable  here  differ  con- 
siderably, and  their  mutual  relations  are  hardly  to  be  made 
out  at  all ;  they  often  occur  either  by  themselves  or  in  collec- 
tions of  "  examples  "  such  as  were  drawn  largely  from  popular 
sources.  We  may  conclude,  then,  that  they  were  frequently 

mentions  another  edition,  Mantua,  1557.  Our  fable,  Parabola  Oorvi  &  aliarum 
Avium,  is  the  twenty-ninth  in  Hanel's  edition,  pp.  116-9;  in  the  Warsaw 
edition  it  is  No.  27. 

1  See  Fuchs,  op.  cit.,  32;  Jacobs,  op.  cit.,  i,  165,  169.  Marie's  bird  also  is 
the  raven,  which,  ashamed  of  its  ugliness,  puts  off  its  own  feathers;  but  it 
puts  on  only  peacock  feathers,  and  goes  among  the  peacocks.  This  is  fable 
58  in  the  edition  of  Roquefort,  Paris,  1820;  No.  67  in  the  edition  of 
Warnke,  Halle,  1898.  Evidently  this  fable  offers  no  support  to  Warnke's 
theory  (p.  Ixxi  ff.)  that  Berachyah  copied  from  Marie. 

5 


220  KENNETH    McKENZIE. 

not  copied  from  one  book  to  another,  but  written  down  from 
oral  tradition.  It  was  in  this  manner  that  some  of  the  classi- 
cal fables  found  their  way  into  the  Roman  de  Renart.1  The 
fable  of  borrowed  feathers  is  perhaps  the  very  best  illustra- 
tion of  many  of  these  principles,  partly  because  versions  occur 
so  frequently,  and  partly  because  the  form  given  to  it  by 
Phaedrus  is  so  clearly  distinguishable  from  the  Greek  form.2 
While  not  entirely  new,  these  general  deductions  will  help 
to  show  that  it  is  a  matter  of  some  importance  to  find  and 
discuss  versions  like  those  by  Froissart  and  Chiaro  Davanzati, 
which,  well  enough  known  it  is  true,  have  hitherto  somehow 
escaped  the  attention  of  writers  on  fable  literature.  A  newly- 
found  version  or  reference  belonging  to  what  I  have  called 
the  Greek  or  popular  type  means  more,  too,  than  an  addition 
to  the  already  long  list  of  those  that  follow  Phaedrus. 

KENNETH  MCKENZIE. 


>See  Keissenberger,  Reinhart  Fuchs,  Halle,  1886,  pp.  1-14;  Sudre,  Les 
Sources  du  Roman  de  Renart,  pp.  1-19,  39-61.  Our  fable  occurs,  as  men- 
tioned above,  in  Renart  le  Contrefait;  cf.  Fuchs,  p.  16. 

2  The  fable  of  the  Lion's  Share  offers  interesting  points  of  similarity ;  it 
also  occurs  in  two  versions,  both  going  back  to  the  Greek,  but  one  through 
Phaedrus  and  the  other  not ;  see  G6rski,  Die  Fabel  vom  Lb'wenanlheil,  Berlin, 
1888,  pp.  5-11,  52  ff.  In  regard  to  the  Fox  and  the  Raven,  a  somewhat 
different  conclusion  is  reached  by  Ewert, — "Die  Fabeln  des Phaedrus  kamen 
auf  doppeltem  Wege  zur  Kenntniss  des  Mittelalters,  durch  schriftliche  Auf- 
zeichnungen  und  durch  miindliche  Tradition"  (Die Fabel  der  Robe  und  der 
Fuchs,  Berlin,  1892,  p.  19).  Fuchs,  op.  cit.,  draws  from  his  material  only 
the  most  obvious  conclusions.  The  existence  of  two  separate  types  of  the 
fable  of  borrowed  feathers  had  already  been  pointed  out,  e.  g.,  in  Romania, 
ra,  292-4. 


VI.— BEN  JONSON  AND   THE  CLASSICAL  SCHOOL. 

"The  words,  classical  and  romantic,  although,  like  many 
other  critical  expressions,  sometimes  abused  by  those  who 
have  understood  them  vaguely  or  too  absolutely,  yet  define 
two  real  tendencies  in  the  history  of  art  and  literature.  *  *  * 
The  '  classic '  comes  to  us  out  of  the  cool  and  quiet  of  other 
times,  as  the  measure  of  what  a  long  experience  has  shown 
will  at  least  never  displease  us.  And  in  the  classical  literature 
of  Greece  and  Rome,  as  in  the  classics  of  the  last  century,  the 
essentially  classical  element  is  that  quality  c£_co:djeiLin_beauty, 
which  they  possess,  indeed,  to  a  pre-eminent  degree.  *  *  * 
It  is  the  addition  of  strangeness  to  beauty,  that  constitutes  A 
the  romantic  character  in  art;  and  the  desire  of  beauty 
being  a  fixed  element  in  every  artistic  organisation,  it  is  the 
addition  of  curiosity  to  this  desire  of  beauty  that  constitutes— 
th£  romantic  temper."  l 

These  are  the  words  of  that  rare  interpreter  of  the  "  House 
Beautiful,"  the  late  Mr.  Walter  Pater,  and  may  serve  us  as  a 
fitting  position  whence  to  depart  in  a  search  for  the  origin  of 
some  of  those  elements  which  combined  to  produce  the  many 
and  noteworthy  changes  that  came  over  English  literature 
during  the  seventeenth  century. 

Without  entering  here  into  definitions  and  distinctions 
which  have  been  much  aired  and  not  a  little  abused,  it  is 
well  to  notice  that  these  terms  are  not  necessarily  hostile 
to  each  other  or  even  mutually  exclusive.  Classicism  and 
Romanticism  are  tendencies  rather  than  opposed  methods  in 
art.  Literature  has  always  partaken  of  both,  although  one 
may  dominate  in  one  age,  the  other  in  another.  It  may  be 
surmised  that  in  the  ebb  and  flow  of  these  elements  consists 
the  life  of  literature,  and  that  in  the  absolute  triumph  of  either 
lies  its  destruction :  for  death  may  come  to  art  no  less  from 

1  Walter  Pater,  Appreciations,  "Postscript,"  p.  253  f. 

221 


222  FELIX    E.    SCHELLING. 

freedom  run  to  licence  than  from  the  riveted  fetters  of  abso- 
lute convention.  In  a  sense  every  l classic7  has  once  contained 
within  it  the  '  romantic/  has  once  moved  by  its  novelty  and 
appealed  to  curiosity.  If  the  romantic  temper  is  more  con- 
cerned with  the  choice  of  subject,  as  has  sometimes  been 
affirmed,  there  may  be  even  a  finer  art  in  novelty  of  treat- 
ment ;  nor  may  novelty  be  denied  although  it  consist  but  in 
the  change  from  romantic  excesses  grown  common  and  hence 
distasteful.  Be  this  as  it  may,  the  classic  temper  studies  the 
past,  the  romantic  temper  neglects  it.  The  romantic  temper 
is  empirical;  in  its  successful  experiments  it  leads  us  forward, 
as  did  Wordsworth,  Shelley  and  Browning,  and  creates  new 
precedents  on  which  to  found  the  classics  of  the  future.  It 
is  revulsion  from  the  failures  of  romantic  art  that  brings  us 
trooping  back  to  the  classics  with  Matthew  Arnold  who  felt 
that  he  could  "find  the  only  sure  guidance,  the  only  solid 
footing  among  the  ancients."  * 

The  history  of  English  literature  since  the  Renaissance 
exhibits  three  periods  of  unusual  interest  in  the  models  of 
the  past,  three  notable  returns  to  the  classics  as  they  were 
understood  in  each  age,  with  a  possible  fourth  period  of 
interest  yet  to  come  and  widely  presaged  in  our  many  retrans- 
lations  of  Greek  and  Roman  authors  and  in  the  poetry  of 
Matthew  Arnold  and  the  late  Mr.  William  Morris.  With 
this  last  we  have  nothing  to  do;  an  important  name  is  identi- 
fied with  each  of  the  other  three :  Sir  Philip  Sidney,  whose 
classicism  was  concerned  with  externals,  and  soon  over- 
whelmed with  the  flood  of  romanticism  on  which  he  was 
himself  "the  first  fair  freight;"  Ben  Jonson,  whose  classicism 
came  alike  by  nature  and  by  study ;  Pope,  who  long  after 
stands  for  the  culmination  of  a  movement  which,  losing  its 
aims  and  substituting  too  often  mere  form  for  living  principle, 
is  none  the  less  worthy  of  a  greater  respect  and  consideration 
than  has  been  usually  accorded  it  at  the  hands  of  the  critics 
of  our  century. 

1  Preface  to  Arnold's  Poems,  ed.  1854. 


BEN   JONSON    AND   THE   CLASSICAL   SCHOOL.  223 

That  minor  contemporaries  of  Sidney  like  Ascham,  Webbe, 
and  Gabriel  Harvey  should  look  to  classic  example  for  the 
salvation  of  English  letters  is  little  to  be  wondered.  Their 
education  demanded  it,  and  contemporary  literature  offered 
nothing.  Save  Chaucer,  there  was  not  an  English  poet  that 
a  scholar  dared  to  name  with  the  mighty  dead  of  "  insolent 
Greece  or  haughty  Kome ; "  and  Chaucer  was  antiquated  to 
the  Elizabethan,  who  might  love  to  archaize  in  the  pastoral 
lingo  of  Hobbinol  and  Cuddy,  but  who  was  likely  to  leave 
unread  what  he  could  not  readily  conform  to  his  own  time 
and  place.  The  classicism  of  Sidney  is  that  of  his  age,  and 
shows  itself  mainly  in  two  characteristics :  the  reaffirmation 
of  ancient  aesthetic  theory,  in  which  the  Defense  of  Poesy  far 
outweighs  all  similar  contemporary  work,  and  in  metrical 
experiments  in  English  verse  modelled  on  classical  prosody. 
In  the  former  Sidney  was  the  companion  of  Gascoigne,  James 
VI,  William  Webbe,  and  George  Puttenham;  in  the  latter,  of 
Harvey,  Stanihurst,  Abraham  Fraunce,  and  Spenser  himself. 
If  Sidney's  sapphics  and  asclepiads  stand  as  a  warning  to  the 
temerity  of  venturesome  youth,  it  must  be  remembered  that 
our  own  contemporaries  have  not  ceased  from  theorizing  upon 
such  metres  nor  indeed  from  imitating  them.  Such  turning 
to  the  classics  as  Sidney's  and  Spenser's  is  purely  empirical 
and  due  less  to  any  deep  seated  conviction  on  the  subject  than 
to  a  contemplation  of  the  dead  level  of  contemporary  literary 
achievement.  Sidney's  Defense  was  directly  called  forth  by 
Gosson's  attack  upon  poetry  in  his  School  of  Abuse,  and 
Sidney's  own  practice  of  classical  metres  went  hand  in  hand 
with  experiments  in  the  Italian  sonnet,  the  canzone  and  the 
sestine,  many  specimens  of  which  are  to  be  found  in  Astrophel 
and  Stella,  and  in  the  Arcadia.  Lastly,  it  would  be  difficult 
to  find  a  work  farther  removed  from  classical  ideals  than  the 
famous  Arcadia  itself,  the  story  of  which  vies  with  the  Faerie 
Queene  in  rambling  involution  and  elaborated  episode,  the 
style  of  which  is  ornate  and  florid,  though  often  very  beauti- 


224         .  FELIX   E.   SCHELLING. 

ful,  the  essence  of  which,  in  a  word,  is  novelty,  the  touchstone 
of  romantic  art. 

Vastly  in  contrast  with  this  superficial  imitation  of  classi- 
cal verse  is  the  classicism  of  Ben  Jonson,  from  his  character 
as  a  man  and  a  scholar,  and  in  its  relation  to  his  environment. 
Between  Sidney,  dead  in  the  year  1586,  and  Jonson  begin- 
ning his  career  but  a  year  or  two  short  of  the  next  century,  a 
great  literature  had  sprung  up,  which  up  to  the  end  of  the 
reign  of  Elizabeth  and,  without  the  domain  of  the  drama, 
was  dominated  by  the  overwhelming  influence  of  Spenser. 
It  would  be  difficult  to  find  a  contrast  more  marked  than 
that  which  exists  between  Spenser  and  Jonson.  As  the  quali- 
ties of  these  two  poets  in  their  contrasts  are  at  the  very  root 
of  our  subject,  they  must  be  considered  in  some  detail. 

What  may  be  called  the  manner  of  Spenser — i.  e.,  Spenser's 
way  of  imitating  and  interpreting  nature  artistically  by  means 
of  poetic  expression — may  be  summarized  as  consisting  of  a 
sensuous  love  of  beauty,  involving  a  power  of  elaborated 
pictorial  representation,  a  use  of  classical  imagery  for  decora- 
tive effect,  a  fondness  for  melody  of  sound,  a  flowing  sweet- 
ness, naturalness  and  continuousness  of  diction,  amounting  to 
diffuseness  at  times,  the  diffuseness  of  a  fragrant,  beautiful, 
flowering  vine.  We  may  say  of  the  poets  that  employ  this 
manner  that  they  are  worshipers  of  beauty  rather  than 
students  of  beauty's  laws ;  ornate  in  their  expression  of  the 
type,  dwelling  on  detail  in  thought  and  image  lovingly  elabo- 
rated and  sweetly  prolonged.  To  such  artists  it  is  no  matter 
if  a  play  have  five  acts  or  twenty-five,  if  an  epic  ever  come 
to  an  end,  or  if  consistency  of  parts  exist.  Rapt  in  the 
joy  of  gentle  onward  motion,  in  the  elevation  of  pure,  poetic 
thought,  even  the  subject  seems  to  be  of  small  import,  if  it 
but  furnish  the  channel  in  which  the  bright  limpid  liquid 
continues  musically  to  flow.  Drayton,  who,  besides  pastorals 
after  the  manner  of  his  master,  Spenserized  the  enormous 
Polyolbion;  the  allegorical  Fletchers,  Giles  and  Phineas; 
George  Wither  and  William  Browne  in  their  beautiful  later 


BEN   JONSON   AND   THE   CLASSICAL  SCHOOL.  225 

pastorals;  Milton  himself  in  his  earliest  poetry,  though  some- 
what restrained  by  a  chaster  taste  than  was  Spenser's  and  by 
a  spirit  in  closer  touch  with  the  classics :  these  are  some  of 
the  multitude  of  followers  and  imitators  of  Spenser. 

If  now  we  will  turn  to  the  poetry  of  Ben  Jonson,  more 
especially  his  lyrical  verse,  the  first  thing  we  note  is  a  sense 
of  form,  not  merely  in  detail  and  transition,  like  the  "  links 
....  bright  and  even  "  of  The  Faerie  Queene,  but  a  sense  of 
the  entire  poem  in  its  relation  to  its  parts.  This  sense  involves 
brevity  and  condensity  of  expression,  a  feeling  on  the  part  of 
the  poet  that  the  effect  may  be  spoiled  by  a  word  too  much — 
a  feeling  which  no  true  Spenserian  ever  knew.  It  is  thus 
that  Jonson  writes  in  courtly  compliment  to  his  patroness 
Lucy,  Countess  of  Bedford  : 

This  morning  timely  rapt  with  holy  fire, 

I  thought  to  form  unto  my  zealous  Muse, 

What  kind  of  creature  I  should  most  desire, 

To  honor,  serve,  and  love,  as  poets  use. 

I  meant  to  make  her  fair,  and  free,  and  wise,  \J 

Of  greatest  blood,  and  yet  more  good  than  great ; 

I  meant  the  day-star  should  not  brighter  rise, 

Nor  lend  like  influence  from  his  lucent  seat. 

I  meant  she  should  be  courteous,  facile,  sweet, 

Hating  that  solemn  vice  of  greatness,  pride ; 

I  meant  each  softest  virtue  there  should  meet, 

Fit  in  that  softer  bosom  to  reside. 

Only  a  learned  and  a  manly  soul 

I  purposed  her;  that  should,  with  even  powers, 

The  rock,  the  spindle,  and  the  shears  control 

Of  Destiny,  and  spin  her  own  free  hours. 

Such  when  I  meant  to  feign  and  wished  to  see, 

My  Muse  bade  Bedford  write,  and  that  was  she.1 

About  such  poetry  as  this  there  is  a  sense  of  finish  rather 
than  of  elaboration.  It  is  less  continuous  than  complete; 
more  "concentrated,  less  diffuse;  chaste  rather  than  florid; 
controlled,  and  yet  not  always  less  spontaneous;  reserved, 
and  yet  not  always  less  natural.  There  are  other  things 

^Epigrams,  No.  LXXVI,  Fol.  1640,  i,  22. 


226  FELIX   E.    SCHELLINQ. 

in  the  Jonsonian  manner.  It  retained  classical  allusion 
less  for  the  sake  of  embellishment  than  as  an  atmosphere — - 
to  borrow  a  term  from  the  nomenclature  of  art.  Its  drafts 
upon  ancient  mythology  become  allusive,  and  the  effects  pro- 
duced by  Horace,  Catullus  or  Anacreon  are  essayed  in 
reproduction  under  English  conditions.  Not  less  eager  in 
the  pursuit  of  beauty  than  the  Spenserian,  the  manner  of 
Jonson  seeks  to  realize  her  perfections  by  means  of  con- 
structive excellence,  not  by  entranced  passion.  It  concerns 
itself  with  choiceness  of  diction,  selectiveness  in  style,  with 
the  repression  of  wandering  ideas  and  loosely  conceived  figures, 
in  a  word  the  manner  of  Jonson  involves  classicality.  Sidney's 
return  to  the  ancients  has  been  called  empirical ;  the  classicism 
of  Jonson  may  be  termed  assimilative. 

It  is  a  commonplace  of  the  history  of  literature  that  Jonson 
literally  dominated  the  age  in  which  he  lived.  But  it  is  not 
so  generally  understood  just  why  this  was  true  in  the  face  of 
the  unexampled  popularity  of  Shakespeare's  plays  and  the 
frequent  failure  of  Jonson's  own,  and  with  the  existence  of 
strong  poetical  counter-influences  which  seemed  more  typical 
of  the  spirit  of  the  time  than  Jonson's  own.  It  is  notable 
that  it  is  the  egotists,  like  Byron  and  Rousseau,  that  often 
most  strongly  impress  themselves  upon  their  own  times;  they 
are,  in  Ben  Jonson's  well  known  words,  "  of  an  age ; "  those 
who  have  mastered  themselves  and  risen,  as  did  Shakespeare, 
above  his  own  environment  while  still  sharing  it,  move  in 
larger  circles,  and  influence  the  world  "  for  all  time."  Shake- 
speare was  not  literary,  Jonson  was  abundantly  so.  Despite 
Shakespeare's  popular  success,  Jonson  had  with  him  the 
weight  of  the  court  and  the  learned.  Thus  it  came  about 
that  Shakespeare  enjoyed  the  greatest  pecuniary  return 
derived  from  literature,  directly  or  indirectly,  until  the 
days  of  Sir  Walter  Scott;  whilst  Jonson,  dependent  on 
patronage,  often  almost  in  want,  achieved  a  reputation  and 
an  influence  in  literature  altogether  unsurpassed  up  to  his 
time.  There  was  only  one  poet  who  shared  even  in  part 


BEN   JONSON    AND    THE   CLASSICAL   SCHOOL.  227 

this  literary  supremacy  of  Jonson,  and  that  poet  was  John 
Donne.  To  Donne,  especially  to  the  Marinist  in  him,  must 
be  granted  the  credit — if  credit  it  be — of  delaying  for  more 
than  a  generation  the  natural  revulsion  of  English  literature 
back  to  classicism  and  restraint.  This  is  not  the  place  in 
which  to  discuss  the  interesting  relations  of  Jonson  and 
Donne.  Except  for  a  certain  rhetorical  and  dialectical 
address,  which  might  be  referred  to  a  study  of  the  ancients, 
the  poetry  of  Donne  is  marked  by  its  disregard  of  conven- 
tions, by  its  extraordinary  originality  of  thought  and  expres- 
sion, by  that  rare  quality  of  poetic  insight  that  justifies 
Jonson's  enthusiastic  claim  that  "John  Donne  [was]  the  first 
poet  in  the  world  in  some  things."^  Not  less  significant  on 
the  other  hand  are  J  onson*s  contrasted  remarks  to  Drummond 
on  the  same  topic :  "  That  Donne's  Anniversary  [in  which 
true  womanhood  is  idealized  if  not  deified]  was  profane  and 
full  of  blasphemies,"  and  "  that  Donne,  for  not  keeping  of 
accent,  deserved  hanging." 2  The  classicist  has  always  regarded 
the  romanticist  thus,  nor  have  the  retorts  been  more  courteous, 
as  witness  the  well  known  lines  of  Keats'  Sleep  and  Poetry 
in  which  the  age  of  classicism  is  described  as  "a  schism 
nurtured  by  foppery  and  barbarism."3 

Thus  we  find  Spenser  and  Jonson  standing  as  exponents 
respectively  of  the  expansive  or  romantic  movement  and  the 
repressive  or  classical  spirit.  In  a  different  line  of  distinction 
Donne  is  equally  in  contrast  with  Spenser,  as  the  intensive, 
or  subjective  artist.  Both  of  these  latter  are  romanticists  in 
that  each  seeks  to  produce  the  effect  demanded  of  art  by 
means  of  an  appeal  to  the  sense  of  novelty;  but  Spenser's 
romanticism  is  that  of  selection,  which  chooses  from  the  outer 
world  the  fitting  and  the  pleasing,  and  constructs  it  into  a 
permanent  artistic  joy.  Donne's  is  the  romanticism  of  insight, 
which,  looking  inward,  descries  the  subtle  relations  of  things 
and  transmutes  them  into  poetry  with  a  sudden  and  unex- 

1 Jonsori 's  Conversations  with  Drummond,  Shakespeare  Society,  1842,  p.  8. 
*lbid.,  p.  3.  3Poems  by  John  Keats,  ed.  Bates,  1896,  p.  59. 


228  FELIX   E.   SCHELLING. 

pected  flood  of  light.  Between  Jonson  and  Donne  there  is  the 
kinship  of  intellectuality;  between  Spenser  and  Donne  the 
kinship  of  romanticism  ;  between  Spenser  and  Jonson  the  kin- 
ship of  the  poet's  joy  in  beauty.  Spenser  is  the  most  objective 
and  therefore  allegorical  and  mystical ;  Donne  is  the  most 
subjective  and  the  most  spiritual ;  Jonson,  the  most  artistic 
and  therefore  the  most  logical.  ,  - 

But  not  only  did  Jonson  dominate  his  age  and  stand  for  the 
classical  ideal  in  the  midst  of  current  Spenserianism,  Marin- 
ism,  and  other  popular  modes,  it  was  this  position  of  Jonson, 
defended  as  it  was  in  theory  as  well  as  exemplified  in  his 
work,  that  directed  the  course  which  English  literature  was 
to  take  for  a  century  and  a  half  after  his  death.  There  are 
few  subjects  in  the  history  of  English  literature  attended  with 
greater  difficulty  than  the  attempt  to  explain  how  the  lapse 
of  a  century  in  time  should  have  transformed  the  literature  of 
England  from  the  traits  which  characterized  it  in  the  reign 
of  Queen  Elizabeth  to  those  which  came  to  prevail  under  the 
rule  of  Queen  Anne.  The  salient  characteristics  of  the  two 
ages  are  much  too  well  known  to  call  for  a  word  here.  Few 
readers,  moreover,  are  unfamiliar  with  the  more  usual  theories 
on  this  subject :  how  one  critic  believes  that  Edmund  Waller 
invented  the  new  poetry  by  a  spontaneous  exercise  of  his  own 
cleverness ; 1  how  another  demands  that  this  responsibility  be 
fixed  upon  George  Sandys.2  How  some  think  that  "  classic- 
ism" was  an  importation  from  France,  which  came  into 
England  in  the  luggage  of  the  fascinating  Frenchwoman, 
who  afterwards  became  the  Duchess  of  Portsmouth ;  and  how 
still  others  suppose  that  the  whole  thing  was  really  in  the 

1  Gosse,  Eighteenth  Century  Literature,  p.  2. 

*  Henry  Wood,  "  Beginnings  of  the  '  Classical '  Heroic  Couplet  in  Eng- 
land : "  "At  all  events  it  was  Sandys,  and  not  Waller,  who  at  the  beginning 
of  the  third  decade  of  the  century,  first  of  all  Englishmen,  made  a  uniform 
practice  of  writing  in  heroic  couplets  which  are,  on  the  whole,  in  accord 
with  the  French  rule,  and  which,  for  exactness  of  construction,  and  for  har- 
monious versification,  go  far  towards  satisfying  the  demands  of  the  later 
'  classical '  school  in  England." — American  Journal  of  Philology,  xi,  p.  73. 


BEN   JONSON    AND   THE   CLASSICAL   SCHOOL.  229 

air,  to  be  caught  by  infection  by  anyone  who  did  not  draw 
apart  and  live  out  of  the  literary  miasma  as  did  Milton.1  It 
may  not  be  unnecessary  to  add  that  some  of  these  theorists 
place  the  beginning  and  end  of  "  classicism  "  in  the  definite 
and  peculiar  construction  of  a  certain  species  of  English  deca- 
syllabic verse ;  and  that  even  when  they  escape  this,  the 
"heroic"  or  "Popean  couplet"  has  always  usurped  an  undue 
share  of  consideration. 

The  conservative  reaction  which  triumphed  with  the  Res- 
toration has  been  so  "hardly  entreated"  and  so  bitterly 
scorned  that  there  is  much  temptation  to  attempt  a  justifi- 
cation. Imaginative  literature  did  lose  in  the  change,  and 
enormously ;  but  if  the  imagination,  and  with  it  the  power 
that  produces  poetry,  became  for  a  time  all  but  extinct, 
the  understanding,  or  power  which  arranges,  correlates, 
expounds  and  explains,  went  through  a  course  of  develop- 
ment which  has  brought  with  it  in  the  end  nothing  but  gain 
to  the  literature  considered  as  a  whole. 

If  the  reader  will  consider  the  three  great  names,  Ben 
Jonson,  finishing  his  work  about  1635,  John  Drydeu,  at  the 
height  of  his  fame  fifty  years  later,  and  Alexander  Pope,  with 
nearly  ten  years  of  literary  activity  before  him  a  century 
after  Jonson's  death,  he  will  notice  certain  marked  differences 
in  a  general  resemblance  in  the  range,  subject-matter  and 
diction  of  the  works  of  these  three.  The  plays  of  Jonson. 
despite  the  restrictive  character  of  his  genius,  exemplify  nearly 
the  whole  spacious  field  of  Elizabethan  drama,  with  an  added 
success  in  the  development  of  the  masque,  which  is  Jonson's 
own.  Jonson  is  the  first  poet  that  gave  to  occasional  verse" 
that  variety  of  subject,  that  power  and  finish,  which  made  it, 
for  nearly  two  centuries,  the  most  important  form  of  poetical 
expression.  The  works  of  Jonson  are  pervaded  with  satire, 
criticism  and  translation,  though  all  appear  less  in  set  form 
than  as  applied  to  original  work.  Finally  Jonson's  lyrics 

1  Gosse,  From  Shakespeare  to  Pope,  p.  19. 


230  FELIX   E.    SCHELLING. 

maintain  the  diversity,  beauty  and  originality  which  distin- 
guishes this  species  of  poetry  in  his  favored  age. 

If  we  will  turn  now  to  Dryden,  we  still  find  a  wide  range 
in  subject,  although  limitations  are  discoverable  in  the  charac- 
ter of  his  dramas  and  of  his  lyrics.  If  we  except  his  operas 
and  those  pseudo-dramatic  aberrations  in  which  he  adapted 
the  work  of  Shakespeare  and  Milton,  Dryden  writes  only  two 
.  kinds  of  plays,  the  Heroic  Drama  and  the  Comedy  of  Manners ; 
whilst  his  lyrics,  excepting  the  two  odes  for  Saint  Cecilia's 
Day  and  some  perfunctory  religious  poems,  are  wholly  amatory 
in  the  narrow  and  vitiated  sense  in  which  that  term  was 
employed  in  the  time  of  Charles  II.  The  strongest  element 
of  Dryden's  work  is  occasional  verse  ;  and  he  makes  a  new  de- 
parture, showing  the  tendency  of  the  time,  in  the  development 
of  what  may  be  called  occasional  prose  :  the  preface  and  dedi- 
catory epistle.  Satire  takes  form  in  the  translation  of  Juvenal 
and  in  the  author's  own  brilliant  original  satires,  translation 
becomes  Dryden's  most  lucrative  literary  employment,  and 
criticism  is  the  very  element  in  which  he  lives.  Lastly,  we 
turn  to  Pope.  Here  are  no  plays  and  very  few  lyrics,  scarcely 
one  which  is  not  an  applied  poem.  Occasional  verse,  satire, 
criticism,  and  translation  have  usurped  the  whole  field.  There 
was  no  need  that  Pope  should  write  his  criticism  in  prose,  as 
did  Dryden ;  for  verse  had  become  in  his  hands  essentially  a 
medium  for  the  expression  of  that  species  of  thought  which 
we  in  this  century  associate  with  the  prose  form.  The  verse 
of  Pope  was  a  medium  more  happily  fitted  for  the  expression 
of  the  thought  of  Pope,  where  rhetorical  brilliancy  and  telling 
antithesis  rather  than  precision  of  thought  was  demanded,  than 
any  prose  that  could  possibly  have  been  devised. 

It  has  often  been  affirmed  that  England  has  the  greater 

poetry,  whilst  France  possesses  the  superior  prose ;   and  in 

"  the  confusion  or  distinction  of  the  two  species  of  literature 

this  difference  has  been  explained.1    Poetry  must  be  governed 

xSee  in  general  Matthew  Arnold's  essay  on  "The  Literary  Influence  of 
Academies." 


BEN   JONSON   AND   THE   CLASSICAL   SCHOOL.  231 

by  the  imagination,  it  must  not  only  see  and  imitate  nature, 
it  must  transform  what  it  sees,  converting  the  actual  into  the 
terms  of  the  ideal :  if  it  does  much  beside,  it  is  less  poetry. 
On  the  other  hand,  prose  is  a  matter  of  the  understanding,  to 
call  in  as  helps  whatever  other  faculty  you  will,  but  to  be 
ruled  and  governed  by  the  intelligence  alone,  to  the  end  that 
the  object  may  be  realized  as  it  actually  is.  With  this  dis- 
tinction before  us,  when  passion,  real  or  simulated,  when 
imagination,  genuine  or  forced,  takes  the  reins  from  the 
understanding,  the  product  may  become  poetry,  or  enthusi- 
asm, or  rhapsody ;  it  certainly  ceases  to  be  prose,  good,  bad 
or  indifferent.  So,  likewise,  when  the  understanding  sup- 
plants imagination,  we  have  also  a  product,  which,  whatever 
its  form  or  the  wealth  of  rhetoric  bestowed  upon  it,  is  alien 
to  poetry.  This  is  to  be  interpreted  into  no  criticism  of  the 
many  English  literary  products,  which  have  the  power  to 
run  and  to  fly ;  we  could  not  spare  one  of  the  great  pages  of 
Carlyle,  or  of  Mr.  Ruskin ;  and  yet  it  may  well  be  doubted 
if,  on  the  whole,  the  French  have  not  been  somewhat  the 
gainers  from  the  care  with  which  they  have  customarily,  and 
until  lately,  kept  their  prose  and  their  poetry  sundered. 

Up  to  this  point  it  has  been  our  endeavor  to  establish 
the  simultaneous  existence  of  the  restrictive  as  well  as  the 
romantic  element  in  our  literature  as  early  as  the  reign  of 
Elizabeth,  to  show  the  relation  of  the  one  to  the  other  in 
the  stretch  of  years  that  elapsed  from  her  reign  to  that  of 
Queen  Anne,  and  to  exemplify  the  relation  of  Jonson  (who 
is  claimed  to  be  the  exponent  of  the  classical  spirit)  to  his 
immediate  contemporaries  and  to  his  two  most  typical  suc- 
cessors. Let  us  now  examine  some  of  the  reasons  which  may 
be  urged  for  placing  Jonson  in  so  prominent  a  position. 

In  Ben  Jonson  we  have  the  earliest  example  of  the  inter- 
esting series  of  English  literary  men  who  have  had  definite 
theories  about  literature.  Dryden,  Pope,  and  Wordsworth 
were  such,  each  potent  in  moulding  the  taste  of  his  own 


232  FELIX    E.    SCHELLING. 

age,  and,  with  it,  the  course  which  literature  was  to  take  in 
times  to  come.  It  is  notorious  that  the  attitude  of  Jonson 
towards  the  prevalent  literary  taste  of  his  age  was  far  from 
conciliatory.  He  despised  the  popular  judgment  with  an 
arrogance  unparalleled  in  the  annals  of  literature,  although 
he  constantly  professed  himself  solicitous  of  the  favorable 
opinion  of  the  judicious.  Jonson  was  a  great  moralist  in  his 
way,  and  "of  all  styles  he  loved  most  to  be  named  Honest;'71 
but  he  was  likewise  an  artist,  and  many  of  his  current  criti- 
cisms of  his  contemporaries :  his  strictures  on  Shakespeare  for 
his  anachronisms,  on  Sidney  for  making  all  the  characters 
of  the  Arcadia  speak  like  gentlemen  and  gentlewomen,  his 
objection  to  the  obscurity  and  irregular  versification  of  Donne, 
are  referable  to  an  outraged  aesthetic  sense.2  This  position 
was  altogether  conscious,  the  position  of  the  professional 
man  who  has  a  theory  to  oppose  to  the  amateurishness  and 
eclecticism  abundantly  exemplified  in  contemporary  work  ; 
and  Jonson  must  have  felt  toward  the  glittering,  multiform 
literature  of  Elizabeth  much  what  Matthew  Arnold  suffered 
"amid  the  bewildering  confusion  of  our  times"  and  might 
well  have  exclaimed  with  him,  "  I  seemed  to  myself  to  find 
the  only  sure  guidance,  the  only  solid  footing,  among  the 
ancients.  They,  at  any  rate,  knew  what  they  wanted  in  Art, 
and  we  do  not.  It  is  this  uncertainty  which  is  disheartening."3 
The  theories  which  Ben  Jonson  held  about  literature  were 
from  the  first  those  of  the  classicist.  He  believed  in  the 
criticism  of  Horace  and  in  the  rhetoric  of  Quintilian  ;4  in  the 
sanction  of  classical  usage  for  history,  oratory,  and  poetry.  He 
believed  that  English  Drama  should  follow  the  example  of  the 
vetus  comoedia,5  and  that  an  English  ode  should  be  modelled 

1  Jonson' s  Conversations  with  Drummond,  as  above,  p.  37. 

*Ibid.,  pp.  16,  2,  and  3. 

3  Preface  to  Matthew  Arnold's  Poems,  ed.  1854. 

*See  the  many  passages  of  the  Discoveries  which  are  no  more  than  trans- 
lations of  the  Institutes,  and  the  weight  given  to  the  theories  of  Horace  in 
the  same  book. 

6  Prologue  to  Every  Man  out  of  his  Humour,  Fol.  1640,  i,  74. 


BEN   JONSON   AND   THE   CLASSICAL,   SCHOOL.  233 

faithfully  on  the  structural  niceties  of  Pindar.  Despite  all 
this,  Jonson's  theories  about  literature  were  not  only,  in  the 
main,  reasonable  and  consistent,  they  were  often  surprisingly, 
liberal.  Thus  he  could  laugh,  as  he  did,  in  a  well  known 
passage  of  the  prologue  to  Every  Man  in  His  Humour,  at  the 
absurdities  of  contemporary  stage  realism  which, 

with  three  rusty  swords, 

And  help  of  some  few  foot-and-half-foot  words, 
Fight  over  York  and  Lancaster's  long  jars; 
And  in  the  tiring-house  bring  wounds  to  scars ; l 

and  yet  declare,  as  to  that  fetish  of  the  supine  classicist,  the 
three  unities,  that  "  we  [English  playwrights]  should  enjoy 
the  same  licence  or  free  power  to  illustrate  and  heighten  our 
invention  as  they  [the  ancients]  did ;  and  not  be  tied  to  those 
strict  and  regular  forms  which  the  niceness  of  a  few,  who  are 
nothing  but  form,  would  thrust  upon  us.'72  He  could  affirm 
that  "Spenser's  stanzas  pleased  him  not,  nor  his  matter;"3 
and  yet  tell  Drummond  that  "  for  a  heroic  poem  there  was  no 
such  ground  as  King  Arthur's  fiction  "  (i.  e.  the  legends  con- 
cerning King  Arthur).4  He  censured  the  pastoralists  for 
their  unreality,  and  yet  he  had  by  heart  passages  of  the 
Shepherds'  Calendar5  and  showed  how  to  write  a  true  pastoral 
drama  in  the  Sad  Shepherd;  he  mocked  the  sonneteers,6 
especially  Daniel,7  in  his  satirical  plays,  for  their  sugared 
sweetness  and  frivolity,  but  wrote  himself  some  of  the  finest 
lyrics  of  his  age.  The  catholicity  of  Jonson's  taste  in  its 
sympathy  included  the  philosophy  and  eloquence  of  Lord 
Bacon,  the  divinity  of  Hooker,  the  historical  and  antiquarian 
enquiries  of  Camden  and  Selden,  the  classical  scholarship  of 
Chapman  and  the  poetry  of  such  diverse  men  as  Spenser, 
Father  Southwell,  Donne,  Sandys,  Herrick,  Carew,  and 
his  lesser  "sous."8 

llbid.,  i,  5.  *Ibid.,  i,  74.  3 Conversations,  as  above,  p.  2. 

4Ibid.,  p.  10.  5/6id,  p.  9.  6/6iU,  p.  4. 

7  See  especially  on  this  topic  The  War  of  the  Theatres  by  J.  H.  Penniman, 
Publications  of  the  University  of  Pennsylvania,  Series  in  Philology,  Literature 
and  Archaeology,  Vol.  iv,  No.  3,  pp.  24-30,  53,  54. 

8  See  the  Conversations,  as  above,  passim. 


234  FELIX    E.    SCHELLING. 

The  characteristics  of  Jonson  as  the  exponent  of  the  con- 
servative  spirit  in  literature  in  an  age  conspicuous  for  its 
passionate  love  of  novelty  are  somewhat  these :  an  unusual 
acquaintance  with  the  literature  of  Greece  and  Rome,  a  hold- 
ing of  "  the  prose  writers  and  poets  of  antiquity,"  to  employ 
the  happy  phrase  of  the  late  Mr.  John  Addington  Symonds, 
"  in  solution  in  his  spacious  memory,"  and  a  marvelous  ability 
to  pour  them  "  plastically  forth  into  the  mould  of  thought;"1 
a  keen  appreciation  of  the  principles  which  lie  at  the  root  of 
classical  literature,  with  an  intelligent  recognition  and  a  liberal 
interpretation  of  those  principles  in  their  adaptation  to  the 
needs  of  contemporary  English  conditions.  The  rhetorician 
in  Jonson  was  alike  his  distinction  and  his  greatest  limitation. 
It  was  this  which  gave  him  an  ever-present  sense  of  an  inspir- 
ing design,  whether  it  was  in  the  construction  of  a  complete 
play  or  in  the  selection  and  ordering  of  the  words  of  a  single 
clause.  These  more  general  characteristics  of  the  classicist 
will  be  recognized  at  once  as  Jonson's ;  but  even  the  specific 
qualities  that  mark  the  coming  age  of  English  classicism  are 
his.  We  have  already  remarked  Jonson's  fondness  for  satire 
and  criticism,  and  his  exceeding  use  of  that  species  of  applied 
poetry  called  occasional  verse.  Restriction  in  the  range  of 
subject  is  always  attended  by  a  corresponding  restriction  in  style 
and  form,  and  we  are  prepared  to  find  in  Jonson's  occasional 
verse  a  strong  tendency  to  precise  and  pointed  antithetical 
diction,  and  a  somewhat  conventionalized  and  restricted  metri- 
cal form.  If  we  will  look  at  Jonson's  prose  we  shall  find 
other  "  notes "  only  less  marked  of  the  coming  classical 
supremacy,  in  his  slightly  Latinized  vocabulary  and  in  his 
occasional  preference  for  abstract  over  concrete  expression. 

Take  the  following  from  the  Discoveries:  "There  is  a 
difference  between  mooting  and  pleading;  between  fencing 
and  fighting.  To  make  arguments  in  my  study  and  to  con- 
fute them,  is  easy ;  where  I  answer  myself,  not  an  adversary. 
So  I  can  see  whole  volumes  despatched  by  the  umbractical 

lBen  Jonson,  English  Worthies,  p.  52. 


BEN   JONSON   AND   THE   CLASSICAL   SCHOOL.  235 

doctors  on  all  sides  ....  but  indeed  I  would  no  more  choose 
a  rhetorician  for  reigning  in  a  school,  than  I  would  a  pilot 
for  rowing  in  a  pond." l  And  again  :  "  When  a  virtuous  man 
is  raised,  it  brings  gladness  to  his  friends,  grief  to  his  enemies 
and  glory  to  his  posterity.  Nay,  his  honors  are  a  great  part 
of  the  honor  of  the  times ;  when  by  this  means  he  is  grown 
to  active  men  an  example,  to  the  slothful  a  spur,  to  the 
envious  a  punishment." 2 

Besides  Jonson's  several  strictures  on  cross  rimes,  the 
stanzas  of  Spenser,  the  alexandrine  of  Dray  ton,  English 
hexameters  and  sonnets,  the  very  first  entry  of  the  Con- 
versations with  Drummond  tells  us  of  a  projected  epic  with 
the  added  information  "it  is  all  in  couplets  for  he  detested 
all  other  rimes." 3  A  little  below  Jonson  tells  of  his  having 
written  against  Campion's  and  Daniel's  well-known  treatises 
on  versification  to  prove  "  couplets  to  be  the  bravest  sort  of 
verses,  especially  when  they  are  broken  like  hexameters," 
i.  e.,  exhibit  a  regular  caesural  pause.4 

The  non-dramatic  verse  of  Jonson  was  grouped  by  the 
author  under  the  headings  Epigrams  and  The  Forest,  both 
published  in  the  Folio  of  1616,  and  Underwoods,  mis- 
cellaneous poems  of  the  collected  edition  of  1640.  Aside 
from  his  strictly  lyrical  verse  in  which  Jonson  shared  the 
metrical  inventiveness  and  variety  of  his  age,  the  decasyllabic 
rimed  couplet  is  all  but  his  constant  measure.  For  epistles, 
elegies,  and  epigrams,  some  two  hundred  poems,  he  seldom 
uses  any  other  verse,  and  he  employs  this  verse  in  translation 
and  sometimes  even  for  lyric  purposes.  In  Jonson's  hands 
the  decasyllabic  couplet  became  the  habitual  measure  for 
occasional  verse,  and,  sanctioned  by  his  usage,  remained  such 
for  a  hundred  and  fifty  years.  But  not  only  did  Jonson's 
theory  and  practise  coincide  in  his  overwhelming  preference 

1  Discoveries,  ed.  Schelling,  p.  16.  Cf.  also,  "  In  her  indagations  often  times 
new  scents  put  her  by,  and  she  takes  in  errors  into  her  by  the  same  con- 
duits she  doth  truths."—  Ibid.,  p.  28. 

*Ibid.,  42.  3Ibid.,  pp.  2,  4,  and  1.  4Ibid.,  p.  2. 


236 


FELIX   E.   SCHELLING. 


for  this  particular  form  of  verse,  but  the  decasyllabic  couplet 
as  practised  by  Jonson  exemplifies  all  the  characteristics 
which,  in  greater  emphasis,  came  in  time  to  distinguish  the 
manner  and  versification  of  Waller  and  Dryden.  Moreover, 
the  practice  of  no  other  poet  exemplifies  like  characteristics  to 
anything  approaching  the  same  extent  until  we  pass  beyond 
the  accession  of  Charles  I. 

In  an  examination  of  the  versification  of  several  Eliza- 
bethan and  later  poets1  for  the  purpose  of  establishing  the 

*As  to  versification,  the   following  passages  have   been   considered  as 
typical,  one  hundred  lines  in  each  case: 

1591,  Spenser:      (a)  Mother  Hubberd's  Tale,  lines  1-100,  Kiv.  Ed.,  p.  99. 

(b)      "  "  "       "     977-1077,  p.  133. 

1593,  Marlowe,  Hero  and  Leander,  Sestiad  I,  lines  1-100,  ed.  Bohn, 

p.  157. 
1598,  Drayton,  Rosamond  to  Henry  77,  England's  Heroical  Epistles,  ed. 

Drayton,  1619,  p.  105. 
1600,  Chapman,          Hero  and  Leander,  Sestiad  VI,  last  100  lines,  as  above, 

p.  226. 
1603,  Jonson :       (a)  A  Panegyry  on  the  Happy  entrance  of  James  our  Sovereign 

to  his  first  high  session  of  Parliment  in  this  Kingdom. 

Ed.  1640,  i,  87. 

1612  (b)  To  Penshurst,  pr.  in  Fol.  of  1616,  ed.  Bohn,  p.  347. 

1616  (c)  The  first  XVII  Epigrams  and  four  lines  of  XVIII, 

excepting  Epig.  VIII,  which  is  not  in  couplets,  and 

Epig.  XII,  which  has  a  peculiar  movement,  due  to 

its  subject,  and  is  hence  not  a  fair  example,  ibid.,  pp. 

283-88. 

1623  (d)  An  Execration  on  Vulcan,  p.  461. 

1631  (e)  Elegy  on  Lady  Winton,  p.  552. 

1636,  Sandys:       (a)  Psalm  LXXIIL    Library  of  Old  Authors,  Sandys,  II, 

p.  204. 

1638  (b)  Paraphrase  upon  the  Book  of  Job,  ibid.,  I,  1. 

1641  (c)  Deo  Optimo  Maximo,  ibid.,  n,  403. 

1660,  Waller:        (a)  To  the  King,  ed.  Drury,  p.  163. 
1678-80  (b)  On  the  Duke  of  Monmouth's  Expedition,  1678,  48  lines. 

On  the  Earl  of  Roscommon's  Translation  of  Horace,  1680, 

52  lines,  ed.  Drury,  pp.  212  and  214. 
1660,  Dryden :      (a)  Astraea  Redux,  Globe  ed.,  p.  8. 
1687  (b)  Hind  and  the  Panther,  ib.,  p.  171. 

1693  (c)  Epistle  to  Sir  Godfrey  Kneller,  ib.,  p.  264. 

1713,  Pope :          (a)  Windsor  Forest,  Chandos  ed.,  p.  95. 
1732  (b)  Essay  on  Man,  Epistle  IV,  lines  19-110,  ibid.,  p.  218. 


BEN  JONSON   AND  THE   CLASSICAL  SCHOOL. 


237 


truth  of  this  proposition,  several  things  are  to  be  noted. 
Spenser's  use  of  the  couplet,  despite  the  early  date  of  his 
only  example  (Mother  Hubberd's  Tale)  and  his  conscious 
imitation  in  it  of  Chaucer,  was  found  to  stand  as  a  very 
fair  representative  of  the  use  of  this  metre  by  those  who 
followed  Spenser  in  other  particulars  of  style  and  versifica- 
tion. Spenser's  use  of  the  couplet  has  therefore  been  employed 
as  representative  here.  Thus  although  a  certain  rigidity  of 
manner,  that  caused  him  all  but  to  give  up  run-on  couplets 
and  lines,  distinguishes  the  couplets  of  Dray  ton,  and  although 
Chapman  shows  a  greater  freedom  and  variety  in  the  same 
respects,  both  these  poets,  with  many  others,  their  contempo- 
raries, may  be  said  to  use  the  couplet  in  a  manner  in  general 
resembling  that  of  Spenser,  and  to  group  with  him  in  noti 
making  a  strong  medial  caesura  a  characteristic  of  their  use; 
of  this  verse.  As  we  are  not  concerned  with  these  poets  in 
this  discussion  except  so  far  as  the  determination  that  Spenser 
is  representative  of  them,  the  figures  which  establish  this 
point  may  be  relegated  to  the  note  below.1 

In  the  case  of  Jonson  a  consideration  of  the  length  of  his 
career  and  the  variety  of  his  practice  demanded  a  wider  range 

1  This  table  may  be  compared  with  that  of  the  text  below,  p.  238.  The 
count  is  made  upon  the  passages  mentioned  in  the  note  preceding  this,  and 
the  averages  of  Spenser  and  Sandys  are  repeated  from  the  other  table  for 
convenience  of  comparison.  It  will  be  noted  that  Sandys  corresponds  to 
Drayton  in  his  use  of  the  continuous  line,  and  to  Marlowe  in  the  frequency 
of  the  medial  caesura,  whilst  his  freedom  in  the  run-on  line  exceeds  even 
that  of  Chapman. 


|  . 

i. 

g 

s- 

4 

r* 

|S 

«  g 

^S 

•<  § 

0 

02 

* 

ft 

8" 

9 

02 

Run-on  Couplets                                .. 

5 

2 

1 

12 

5 

Run-on  Lines                                       . 

195 

11 

4 

28 

226 

Continuous  Lines                               .. 

59 

51 

46 

55 

47 

Lines  showing  a  Medial  Caesura  

35 

40 

44 

38 

40 

238 


FELIX    E.    SCHELLING. 


from  which  to  judge.  The  passages  chosen  range  from  1603 
to  1631,  and  include  almost  every  species  of  poetry  which 
Jonson  wrote  in  this  verse.  Sandys  exhibited  an  unexpected 
diversity  of  manner,  although  within  a  well  defined  range. 
The  poem  Deo  Optimo  Maximo  is  the  only  original  poem  of 
any  length  by  Sandys :  it  has  been  considered  with  two  trans- 
lations. Lastly,  the  passages  from  Waller,  Dryden,  and  Pope 
will  be  seen  to  take  into  consideration  both  the  earlier  and 
the  later  manner  of  each. 

The  points  considered  in  this  enquiry  are  (1)  the  number 
of  the  run-on  couplets ;  (2)  the  number  of  run-on  lines ;  (3) 
the  character  of  the  line  as  to  internal  caesura,  especially 
in  the  contrast  which  exists  between  the  continuous  line  (i.  e.j 
one  in  which  there  is  no  internal  caesura)  and  that  exhibiting 
an  internal  caesura  so  placed  as  to  produce  the  effect  of  split- 
ting the  line  into  two  halves.  This  last  results  when  the 
rhetorical  pause  occurs  after  the  second  stressed  syllable  or 
after  either  of  the  syllables  following.  This  tendency  to  split 
the  decasyllabic  line  into  two  is  a  notorious  feature  in  the 
versification  of  the  Popean  School ;  as  well  as  of  Waller  and 
Dryden.  It  is  scarcely  less  marked  in  the  verse  of  Jonson. 
The  following  table  gives  the  average  of  all  the  passages 
examined  and  for  each  author : 


w  . 

gs 

07 

|i 

si 

|i 

£ 

Is 

fc<i 
£8 

II 

II 

ft<3 

S5 

Run-on  Couplets 

5. 

5. 

4.4 

3.5 

.6 

0. 

Run-on  Lines  

19.5 

22.6 

21.8 

12.5 

7.6 

5.5 

Lines  which  show  no  Me- 
dial Caesura  J 

\ 

59. 

47. 

26. 

36. 

36.3 

21. 

Lines    showing   a   caesura 

after    the    fourth,    fifth 

35. 

40. 

55.2 

56. 

53. 

67.5 

and  sixth  syllables  

Lines  showing   a  caesura 

after    the    fourth,    fifth, 
sixth  and  seventh  sylla- 

35.5 

44.6 

64.4 

58.5 

55. 

71. 

bles  

BEN    JONSON   AND   THE   CLASSICAL   SCHOOL.  239 

The  following  features  appear  : — 

1.  As  to  the  run-on  couplets,  Jonson  shows,  with  Sandys 
and  Spenser,  the  earlier  freedom,  and  shows  it  to  about  the 
same  degree.  But  Waller  shows  it  too,  and  his  proportion 
in  this  respect  (3.5)  is  far  nearer  to  Jonson's  (4.4)  than  to 
Dryden's  (which  is  only  .6).  Pope  gave  up  the  run-on 
couplet.  2.  As  to  run-on  lines,  Sandys  exhibits  a  slightly 
larger  proportion  than  Jonson  or  Spenser,  but  their  averages 
(Spenser,  19.5,  Sandys,  22.6,  Jonson,  21.8)  are  substantially 
the  same.  It  may  be  noted  that  Jonson's  average  in  run-on 
couplets  and  verses  falls  in  his  Epigrams  very  nearly  to  that 
of  Dryden  in  The  Hind  and  the  Panther;  the  former  showing 
eleven  run-on  lines  and  the  latter  nine ;  both  having  two 
run-on  couplets.  But  nearly  the  same  is  true  of  Sandys' 
Paraphrase  of  the  Psalm  LXXIII,  in  which  there  is  but  one 
run-on  couplet  and  eleven  run-on  lines.  On  the  other  hand 
Sandys'  freest  verse  in  these  respects,  the  Paraphrase  of  Job, 
surpasses  the  utmost  freedom  of  Jonson.  Thus  as  to  run-on 
couplets  and  run-on  lines,  the  test  places  Spenser,  Sandys  ' 
and  Jonson  in  one  group,  with  Waller  and  Jonson  showing 
averages  which  dwindle  to  the  stricter  manner  of  Pope  in  , 
these  respects.  It  may  be  remarked  in  passing  that  it  is  a  \ 
mistake  to  consider  that  the  Elizabethans  often  practised  the 
couplet  with  the  freedom,  not  to  say  licence,  that  characterizes 
its  nineteenth  century  use  in  the  hands  of  such  poets  as  Keats. 

Now  if  these  passages  be  considered  with  reference  to 
the  occurrence  of  a  medial  caesura  and  the  contrasted  non- 
occurrence  of  any  caesura  within  the  lines,  they  fall  at  once 
into  two  groups,  (1)  that  of  Spenser  and  Sandys,  whose 
manner  is  continuous  and  whose  use  of  the  internal  caesura  is 
correspondingly  infrequent ; x  and  (2)  that  of  Jonson,  Waller,  ^ 
Dryden  and  Pope,  whose  manner  is  characterized  by  shorter 
clauses,  inversions  and  interpolations,  which  breaks  up  con- 
tinuity and  prevailingly  places  the  internal  caesura  within  the 
range  of  the  fourth  and  seventh  syllables  of  the  verse,  posi- 

1  See  note  above,  p.  237. 


240  FELIX  E.   SCHELLING. 

tions  which  tend  to  break  the  verse  into  two  halves.  The 
proportion  of  lines  in  which  no  medial  caesura  occurs  is 
largest  in  Spenser,  59  being  the  average;  Sandys'  average  is 
47.  Sandys'  Paraphrase  of  Psalm  LXXIII shows  the  highest 
number  of  continuous  lines,  63 ;  Pope's  Essay  on  Man  the 
smallest,  17.  Jonson's  average  is  but  26,  showing  a  smaller 
average  number  of  continuous  lines  than  either  Waller  or 
Dry  den,  and  approaching  Pope's  average,  which  is  but  21 . 

The  proportion  of  lines,  which  show  a  rhetorical  pause  or 
caesura  after  the  second  accent,  after  the  arsis  of  the  third 
foot,  and  after  the  third  accent,  hence  producing  the  general 
effect  of  cutting  the  verse  into  two  halves,  are  smallest  in 
Spenser  and  Sandys,  their  averages  being  respectively  35  and 
40  to  each  100  lines.  In  Jonson  the  average  of  these  lines 
rises  to  55.2,  which  is  greater  than  Dryden's  53 ;  and  nearly 
that  of  Waller,  56.  It  is  interesting  to  note  that  Jonson's 
fondness  for  a  pause  after  the  arsis  of  the  fourth  foot  (seventh 
syllable  of  the  verse),  which  is  shared  by  Pope,  brings  the 
averages  of  these  two,  by  including  that  caesura  with  the  count 
already  taken  of  the  caesuras  of  the  three  preceding  feet,  up  to 
64.4  per  cent,  for  Jonson  and  71  per  cent,  for  Pope.  In  the 
use  of  this  feminine  caesura  and  the  corresponding  caesura  of 
the  previous  foot  (that  after  the  third  arsis),  Jonson's  verse 
is  more  like  that  of  Pope  than  is  Dryden's,  whose  prefer- 
ence is  for  the  masculine  caesura,  i.  e.,  that  after  an  accented 
syllable.  It  is  not  in  the  least  here  assumed  that  the  versifi- 
cation of  Jonson,  Dryden,  and  Pope  is  all  reducible  to  a 
single  definition ;  but  it  is  claimed  that  the  characteristics  of 
the  versification  of  Jonson's  couplets  are  of  the  type  which, 
developed  through  Dryden  and  Waller,  led  on  logically  to 
the  culmination  of  that  type  in  Pope ;  and  that  no  possible 
development  of  the  couplet  of  Sandys  and  Spenser  could 
have  led  to  a  similar  result. 

Examination  has  been  made  into  the  versification  of  this 
group  of  poets,  not  because  peculiar  store  is  set  upon  such 
matters,  but  because  of  the  mistakes  which  have  arisen  in 


BEN   JONSON   AND   THE   CLASSICAL   SCHOOL.  241 

consequence  of  the  obiter  dicta  of  Dryden  and  of  Pope.  It  was 
sufficient  for  the  subsequent  "historians"  of  English  Literature 
to  know  that  in  the  rough  draft  of  an  outline  of  the  course  of 
English  literature,  communicated  by  Pope  to  Warburton,  and 
preserved  by  Ruff'head,  the  great  poet  made  Sandys  in  his 
Paraphrase  of  Job  one  of  the  originals  of  Waller  in  versifica- 
tion ;  the  thing  is  copied  forever  after.1  More  important  is 
the  classical  manner  with  its  crisp  diction,  its  set  figures,  its 
parallel  constructions,  its  contrasted  clauses,  its  inversions. 
Without  pursuing  this  subject  into  minute  detail,  the  follow- 
ing passages  may  be  well  compared. 
In  1660  Dryden  wrote  thus  : 

And  welcome  now,  great  monarch,  to  your  own, 

Behold  th'  approaching  cliffs  of  Albion : 

It  is  no  longer  motion  cheats  your  view, 

As  you  meet  it,  the  land  approacheth  you. 

The  land  returns,  and  in  the  white  it  wears, 

The  marks  of  patience  and  sorrow  bears. 

But  you,  whose  goodness  your  descent  doth  show 

Your  heavenly  parentage,  and  earthly  too, 

By  that  oame  mildness,  which  your  father's  crown 

Before  did  ravish,  shall  secure  your  own.8 

In  obvious  further  development  of  the  same  manner,  Pope 
writes  some  seventy-five  years  later  : 

To  thee,  the  world  its  present  homage  pays, 
The  harvest  early,  but  mature  the  praise ; 
Great  friend  of  liberty !     In  kings  a  name 
Above  all  Greek,  above  all  Roman  fame : 
Whose  word  is  truth,  as  sacred  as  revered 
As  heav'n's  own  oracles  from  altars  heard. 
Wonder  of  kings !  like  whom  to  mortal  eyes 
None  e'er  has  risen,  and  none  e'er  shall  rise.3 

1  See  Ruff  head's  Life  of  Pope,  1769,  p.  410  seq.;  also  Pope,  Amer.  ed.,  1854, 
i,  clvi. 

*A8traea  Redux,  Dryden,  Globe  ed.,  p.  14. 

*First  Epistle  of  the  Second  Book  of  Horace,  To  Augustus,  1737,  Pope,  Chandos 
ed.,  p.  313. 


242  FELIX   E.   SCHELLING. 

Sandys  wrote  as  follows  in  1638,  the  year  after  the  death 
of  Jonson  : 

The  Muse,  who  from  your  influence  took  her  birth, 
First  wandered  through  the  many-peopled  earth  ; 
Next  sung  the  change  of  things,  disclosed  th'  unknown, 
Then  to  a  nobler  shape  transformed  her  own ; 
Fetched  from  Engaddi  spice,  from  Jewry  balm, 
And  bound  her  brows  with  Idumaean  palm ; 
Now  old,  hath  her  last  voyage  made,  and  brought 
To  royal  harbor  this  her  sacred  fraught : 
Who  to  her  King  bequeaths  the  wealth  of  Kings, 
And  dying,  her  own  epicedium  sings.1 

But  Jonson  had  written  thus,  near  the  beginning  of  the 
reign  of  James : 

Who  would  not  be  thy  subject  James,  t'  obey 

A  prince  that  rules  by  example  more  than  sway? 

Whose  manners  draw  more  than  thy  powers  constrain, 

And  in  this  short  time  of  thy  happiest  reign, 

Hast  purged  thy  realms,  as  we  have  now  no  cause 

Left  us  for  fear,  but  first  our  crimes,  then  laws. 

Like  aids  'gainst  treason  who  hath  found  before  ? 

And  than  in  them  how  could  we  know  God  more  ? 

First  thou  preserved  wert,  our  Lord  to  be, 

And  since,  the  whole  land  was  preserv'd  in  thee.8 

These  four  passages  meet  on  the  common  ground  of  royal 
panegyric,  and  may  be  regarded  as  typical  of  the  manner 
of  each  poet,  and  as  abundantly  upholding  the  conclusions 
already  reached  with  respect  to  their  versification. 

If  now  we  consider  rhetorical  structure  and  remember  how 
true  it  is  of  the  style  of  Pope  that  it  is  built  upon  antithesis 
and  parallel  construction,  word  against  word,  clause  against 
clause,  verse  against  verse,  paragraph  against  paragraph,  and 
what  is  more  important,  thought  against  thought,  we  shall 
find  an  interesting  result.  There  is  nothing  antithetical  in 
the  prevailing  style  of  Sandys,  either  in  his  translation — 

1  Dedication  of  A  Paraphrase  upon  Job,  Sandys,  ed.  Library  of  Old 
Authors,  i,  Ixxix. 

'Epigram  XXXV,  To  King  James,  fol.  1641,  I,  p.  12. 


BEN   JONSON   AND  THE   CLASSICAL  SCHOOL.  243 

except  so  far  as  Hebrew  parallelism  may  easily  account  for 
it — or  in  his  original  verse.  On  the  other  hand  Jonson  knew 
the  value  of  antithetical  construction  and  used  it  with  intelli- 
gence and  frequency,  though  not,  as  did  later  writers,  almost  to 
the  exclusion  of  all  other  rhetorical  devices.  In  the  passages 
from  Dry  den  and  Pope  quoted  above,  this  characteristic 
appears  as  prevailingly  in  both  poets;  but  the  quotation 
from  Jonson  also  exemplifies  antithetical  construction  in  all 
its  subtlety.  The  prince  and  his  subject  are  contrasted ;  the 
prince  rules,  the  subject  obeys.  The  prince  rules  by  example 
more  than  by  sway;  his  manners  draw  more  than  his  powers 
constrain.  The  subject  fears  his  own  crimes  more  than  the 
prince's  laws;  and  in  the  end  the  prince  is  preserved  to  be 
king,  and  his  subjects  are  preserved  in  him ;  which  last  anti- 
thesis involves  "conceit"  as  it  often  continued  to  do  in  Dryden 
as  witness  "  the  approaching  cliffs  of  Albion  "  in  the  passage 
cited  above. 

The  epigram  of  Jonson  to  King  James,  from  which  the 
lines  above  are  taken,  was  written  in  1604.  The  Panegyric 
on  the  same  Sovereign's  accession,  written  in  the  previous 
year  and  the  earliest  extended  piece  of  Jonson's  writing  in 
couplets,  shows  beyond  any  cavil  the  beginnings  of  those 
qualities  which,  developed,  differentiate  the  couplet  of  Dryden 
and  Pope  from  others'  usage  of  the  same  measure,  and  it 
displays  what  is  more  important,  a  treatment  and  mode  of 
dealing  with  material,  a  diction  and  style  which  equally 
determine  its  kinship.1 

1 1  add  some  typical  instances  of  Jonsou's  use  of  this  structure  out  of  the 
scores  that  can  be  culled  from  his  pages.  These  will  be  seen  to  involve 
nearly  all  the  mannerisms  afterwards  carried  to  so  artificial  a  degree  of 
refinement  by  Pope  himself,  and  to  hinge,  all  of  them,  on  a  pointed,  con- 
densed and  antithetical  way  of  putting  things. 

Call'st  a  book  good  or  bad  as  it  doth  sell.     Epigram  3. 
And  I  a  poet  here,  no  herald  am.     Epig.  8. 
He  that  dares  damn  himself,  dares  more  than  fight.     Epig.  16. 
Blaspheme  God  greatly,  or  some  poor  hind  beat.    Epig.  28. 
Look  not  upon  thy  dangers,  but  our  fears.    Epig.  51. 


244  FELIX   E.    SCHELLING. 

An  examination  of  Jonson's  use  of  the  couplet  through 
successive  years  exhibits  less  advance  towards  the  later  regu- 
larity than  might  have  been  supposed,  and  it  can  hardly  be 
affirmed  that  Jonson  was  any  more  rhetorically  constructive 
in  his  later  writings  than  in  those  composed  when  his  classical 
theories  were  new  and  strong  upon  him.  We  cannot  expect 
the  laws  which  govern  organic  growth  to  coincide  with  those 
controlling  constructive  ingenuity;  a  house  is  built,  a  tree 
grows,  and  the  conscious  and  self-controlled  development  of 
such  a  man  as  Jonson  is  alien  to  the  subtle  and  harmonious 
unfolding  of  a  genius  like  Shakespeare's.  What  we  do  find 
in  Jonson's  use  of  the  devices  of  the  later  classicists  is  a  full 
recognition  of  their  actual  value,  and  an  application  of  each 
to  the  special  needs  and  requirements  of  the  work  which  he 
may  have  in  hand.  Thus  he  employed  the  couplet  for  epi- 
gram and  epistle  alike,  but  used  it  with  greater  terseness  and 

At  once  thou  mak'st  me  happy  and  unmak'st.     Epig.  55. 

And  hoodwinked  for  a  man,  embrace  a  post.     Epig.  58. 

Active  in's  brains  and  passive  in  his  bones.    Epig.  68. 

And  no  less  wise  than  skilfull  in  the  laws.     Epig.  74,  p.  21. 

The  ports  of  Death  are  sins,  of  Life,  good  deeds.     Epig.  80,  p.  23. 

In  making  thy  friends  books,  and  thy  books  friends.     Epig.  86,  p.  24. 

That  dares  not  write  things  false,  nor  hide  things  true.     Epig.  95. 

And  study  conscience  more  than  thou  wouldst/aroe.     Epig.  98. 

Truth  might  spend  all  her  voice,  fame  all  her  art.     Epig.  106. 

And  first  to  know  thine  own  state,  then  the  state's.     Epig.  109. 

He  wrote  with  the  same  spirit  that  he  fought.     Epig.  110. 

They  murder  him  again  that  envy  thee.     Epig.  111. 

Til  thou  canst  find  the  best  choose  the  least  ill.     Epig.  119. 

And  in  their  error's  maze,  thine  own  way  know, 
Which  is  to  live  to  conscience  not  to  show.     Ibid. 

That  strives  his  manners  should  precede  his  wit.     Epig.  121,  p.  39. 
Outdance  the  babion,  or  outboast  the  brave.     Epig.  130,  p.  41. 
Men  love  thee  not  for  this,  they  laugh  at  thee.     Ibid. 
The  learned  have  no  more  privilege  than  the  lay.     Epig.  132,  p.  42. 
For  fame  with  breath  soon  kindled,  soon  blown  out.     Ibid. 

In  place  of  scutcheons,  that  should  deck  thy  hearse, 

Take  better  ornaments,  my  tears  and  verse.     Epig.  27,  p.  10. 


BEN   JONSON   AND  THE   CLASSICAL  SCHOOL.  245 

more  in  accord  with  later  usage  in  the  former,  feeling  that 
fluency  and  a  somewhat  negligent  manner  at  times  were  fitting 
to  epistolary  style.  The  latter  can  be  found  in  any  of  the 
Epistles.  No  better  specimen  of  Jonson's  antithetical  manner 
could  be  found  than  the  fine  epigram  to  Edward  Allen : — 

If  Rome  so  great,  and  in  her  wisest  age, 
Fear'd  not  to  boast  the  glories  of  her  stage, 
As  skilful  Roscius,  and  grave  JEsop,  men, 
Yet  crown'd  with  honors,  as  with  riches,  then ; 
Who  had  no  less  a  trumpet  of  their  name, 
Than  Cicero,  whose  every  breath  was  fame : 
How  can  so  great  example  die  in  me, 
That,  Allen,  I  should  pause  to  publish  thee  ? 
Who  both  their  graces  in  thyself  hast  more 
Out-stript,  than  they  did  all  that  went  before: 
And  present  worth  in  all  dost  so  contract, 
As  others  speak,  but  only  thou  dost  act. 
Wear  this  renown.    'Tis  just,  that  who  did  give 
So  many  poets  life,  by  one  should  live.1 

The  liberality  of  Jonson's  spirit,  despite  his  own  strong 
preferences,  caused  him  likewise  to  admit  into  his  practice 

Believe  it,  Guilty,  if  you  lose  your  shame, 

I'll  lose  my  modesty,  and  tell  your  name.     Epig.  38,  p.  13. 

That  we  thy  loss  might  know,  and  thou  our  love, 

Great  heav'n  did  well,  to  give  Ul  fame  free  wing.    Epig.  51,  p.  15. 

Nay  ask  you  how  the  day  goes  in  your  ear 

Keep  a  star-chamber  sentence  close  twelve  days 

And  whisper  what  a  proclamation  says.     Epig.  92,  p.  26. 

It  is  the  fair  acceptance,  Sir,  creates 

The  entertainment  perfect,  not  the  cates.    Epig.  101,  p.  30. 

And  did  not  shame  it  by  our  actions  then 

No  more  than  I  dare  now  do  with  my  pen.     Epig.  108,  p.  34. 

Thou  rather  striv'st  the  matter  to  possess 

The  elements  of  honor  than  the  dress.     Epig.  109,  p.  34. 

I  modestly  quit  that,  and  think  to  write 

Next  morn  an  ode;  thou  mak'st  a  song  e'er  night.     Epig.  112,  p.  35. 

I  pity  thy  ill  luck 
That  both  for  wit  and  sense  so  oft  doth  pluck.     Ibid. 

But  blood  not  minds,  but  minds  did  blood  adorn, 

And  to  live  great,  was  better  than  great  born.     Epig.  116,  p.  37. 

Who  sees  a  soul  in  such  a  body  set 

Might  love  the  treasure  for  the  cabinet.     Epig.  125,  p.  39. 

1  Epigram  LXXXIX,  fol.  1640,  I,  p.  25. 


246  FELIX    E.   SCHELLING. 

forms  which  theoretically  he  disapproved.  He  had  the  sanc- 
tion of  Catullus  and  Tibullus  for  his  lyrics,  but  he  even 
stooped  to  write  a  few  sonnets,  to  bits  of  pastoral  in  the 
prevailing  mode  like  a  Nymph's  Passion,  and  to  concetti 
after  the  manner  of  the  Marinists,  like  the  dainty  trifle,  That 
Women  are  but  Men's  Shadows.  This  eclecticism  of  practice 
in  the  great  classical  theorist  combined  with  the  strong 
influence  of  Donne's  subtle  novelty  of  treatment  and  the 
older  romantic  influence  of  Spenser,  perpetuated  in  men  like 
Drayton,  Drummond  and  the  later  Spenserians,  delayed  the 
incoming  tide  of  classicism,  which  setting  in,  none  the  less, 
about  the  time  of  the  accession  of  Charles  I,  became  the  chief 
current  until  after  the  Restoration,  and  reached  its  full  when 
Milton,  the  last  of  the  Elizabethans,  died. 

Nothing  could  more  strongly  exemplify  this  eclecticism  in 
the  practice  of  Jonson  than  the  fact  that  two  such  diverse  men 
as  Robert  Herrick  and  Edmund  Waller  were  alike  his  poeti- 
cal "sons."  Herrick,  the  man,  has  a  nai've  and  engaging  per- 
sonality, which  is  choice,  though  not  more  sterling  than  the 
solid  worth  of  Ben  Jonson  himself;  whilst  the  frank  Paganism 
of  Herrick,  the  poet,  and  his  joy  in  the  fleeting  beauties  of 
nature  are  things  apart  from  Jonson's  courtly  and  prevail- 
ingly ethical  appraisement  of  the  world.  Notwithstanding, 
Herrick  had  his  priceless  lyrical  gift  of  Jonson,  though  he 
surpassed  his  master  in  it.  Unhappily  for  his  fame,  he 
inherited  also  Jonson's  occasional  grossness  of  thought,  his 
fondness  for  the  obscenities  of  Martial,  and  he  surpassed 
his  master  in  this  as  well.  Waller's  debt  to  Jonson  is  also 
two-fold :  in  the  lyric,  which  he  impoverished  and  conven- 
tionalized, and  in  occasional  verse,  for  which  he  possessed  a 
peculiar  talent,  and  which  he  freed  of  the  weight  of  Jonson's 
learning,  his  moral  earnestness  and  strenuousness  of  style, 
codifying  the  result  into  a  system  which  was  to  give  laws  to 
generations  of  poets  to  come.  Waller  was  a  man,  the  essence 
of  whose  character  was  time-serving,  to  whom  ideals  were 
nothing,  but  to  whom  immediate  worldly  success,  whether  in 


BEN   JONSON   AND   THE   CLASSICAL   SCHOOL.  247 

social  life  or  letters,  was  much ;  a  man  whose  very  unorigi- 
nality  and  easy  adaptability  made  him  precisely  the  person  to 
fill  what  Mr.  Gosse  deftly  calls  the  post  of  "  Coryphaeus  of 
the  long  procession  of  the  commonplace."  The  instinct  of  his 
followers  was  right  in  singling  Waller  out  for  that  position 
of  historical  eminence,  not  because,  as  a  boy,  he  sat  down 
and  deliberately  resolved  on  a  new  species  of  poetry,  but 
because  he  chose  out  with  unerring  precision  just  those  quali- 
ties of  thought,  form  and  diction  which  appealed  to  the  people 
of  his  age,  and  wrote  and  re- wrote  his  poetry  in  conformity 
therewith.  In  Carew,  Waller  found  the  quintessence  of  vers 
de  8oci&6t  and  "reformed"  it  of  its  excessive  laces  and  fall- 
ing-bands to  congruity  with  the  greater  formality  which 
governed  the  costume  of  the  succeeding  century.  Lastly, 
in  Jonson  he  found  an  increasing  love  of  that  regularity 
of  rhythm  which  results  from  a  general  correspondence  of 
length  of  phrase  with  length  of  measure,  amongst  much  with 
which  he  was  in  little  sympathy,  a  minute  attention  to  the 
niceties  of  expression,  a  kind  of  spruce  antithetical  diction, 
and  a  versification  of  a  constructiveness  suited  to  the  epi- 
grammatic form  in  which  the  thought  was  often  cast.  In 
Sandys,  Fairfax,  Drummond  and  some  others,  he  found  a 
smoothness  and  sweetness  of  diction,  in  which  these  poets 
departed  measurably  from  their  immediate  contemporaries  and 
preserved  something  of  the  mellifluousness  of  the  Spenserians. 
With  almost  feminine  tact  Waller  applied  these  things  to  his 
unoriginal  but  carefully  chosen  subject-matter,  and  in  their 
union  wrought  his  success. 

The  real  value  of  the  following  age  of  repression  consisted 
in  its  recognition  of  the  place  that  the  understanding  must 
hold — not  only  in  the  production  of  prose — but  in  the  pro- 
duction of  every  form  of  enduring  art.  It  endeavored  to 
establish  a  standard  by  which  to  judge,  and  failed,  less 
because  of  the  inherent  weakness  of  the  restrictive  ideal, 
than  because  the  very  excess  of  the  imaginative  age  preced- 
ing drove  the  classicists  to  a  greater  recoil  and  made  them 


248  FELIX   E.    SCHELLING. 

content  with  the  correction  of  abuse  instead  of  solicitous  to 
found  their  reaction  upon  a  sure  foundation.  The  essential 
cause  of  this  great  change  in  the  literature  of  England,  above 
all  question  of  foreign  origin,  precocious  inventiveness  of 
individual  poets,  artificial  and  "  classical  heroic  couplets/' 
lies  in  the  gradual  increase  of  the  understanding  as  a  regula- 
tive force  in  the  newer  literature,  the  consequent  rise  of  a 
well-ordered  prose,  and  the  equally  consequent  suppression 
for  several  decades  of  that  free  play  of  the  imagination  which 
is  the  vitalizing  atmosphere  of  poetry. 

Making  due  allowance  for  the  existence  of  many  concurrent 
forces,  English  and  foreign,  which  made  for  the  coming  age 
of  repression,  but  which  it  is  not  within  the  province  of  this 
paper  to  discuss,  it  has  been  the  endeavor  of  this  enquiry  to 
establish  the  following  points : — 

1.  That  the  position  of  Ben  Jonson  was  such  as  to  give  a 
sanction  and  authority  to  his  opinions  and  practise  above  any 
man  of  his  age. 

2.  That  Jonson's  theories  were  those  of  the  classicist  from 
the  first,  though  put  forward  and  defended  with  a  liberality 
of  spirit  and  a  sense  of  the  need  of  the  adaptation  of  ancient 
canons  of  art  to  changed  English  conditions,  that  warrant 
ther  use  of  the  term,  assimilative  classicism,  as  applied  to 
these  theories. 

3.  That   the   practice   of  Jonson   as    exemplified   in   his 
works  exhibits  all  the  "notes"  of  this  assimilative  classi- 
cism ;  amongst  them  in  subject,  a  preference  for  applied  poetry 
over  pure  poetry,  as  exemplified  in  his  liking  for  satire,  epi- 
gram, translation  and  occasional  verse ;  in  treatment,  a  sense 
of  design  and  construction,  repressiveness  and  selectiveness,  a 

/  feeling  for  brevity  and  condensity,  a  sense  of  finish,  and  the 
allusiveness  of  the  scholar;  in  diction,  qualities  distinctive 
of  the  coming  "  classical "  age,  such  as  care  in  the  choice  of 
words,  a  slightly  Latinized  vocabulary,  the  employment  of  a 
spruce,  antithetical  style,  and  the  use  of  parallel  construction 
and  epigram ;  in  versification,  a  preference  for  the  decasyllabic 


. 

BEN   JONSON   AND   THE   CLASSICAL   SCHOOL.  249 

couplet  and  the  writing  of  it  in  a  manner,  which  is  distin- 
guishable from  the  continuous  manner  of  Spenser,  but  which 
contains  all  the  distinctive  characteristics  which,  developed, 
led  on  to  the  later  use  of  this  measure  by  Waller,  Dryden 
and  Pope. 

4.  That  these  theories  and  practices  of  Jonson  are  trace- 
able in  his  work  from  the  first,  and  in  their  range,  consistency, 
and  intensity  antedate  similar  theories  and  practise  in  the 
works  of  any  other  English  writer. 

From  all  this  is  derived  the  conclusion  that  there  is  not 
a  trait  which  came  to  prevail  in  the  poetry  of  the  new  classic 
school  as  practised  by  Waller  and  Dryden,  and  later  by  Pope, 
which  is  not  directly  traceable  to  the  influence  or  to  the  example 
of  Ben  Jonson.  We  cannot  but  view  with  renewed  respect  a 
genius  so  overmastering  that  it  became  not  only  the  arbiter 
of  its  own  age,  but  gave  laws  which  afforded  sanction  and 
precedent  to  generations  of  successors. 

FELIX  E.  SCHELLING. 


VII.— THE  EARLIEST  POEMS  OF  WILHELM 
MULLER. 

In  the  summer  of  1814  a  group  of  young  men  who  had 
known  each  other  in  the  campaigns  of  the  War  of  Liberation 
formed  a  literary  circle  in  Berlin.  They  were  Count  von 
Kalckreuth,  Count  von  Blankensee,  and  Wilhelm  Hensel 
(later  the  celebrated  painter  who  married  Fanny  Mendelssohn). 
They  soon  drew  into  their  group  two  kindred  spirits,  Wilhelm 
von  Studnitz  and  Wilhelm  Miiller.  Miiller  was  the  youngest, 
but  was  recognized  as  having  the  choicest  talents,  and  he 
became  the  leader  of  the  group,  which  was  held  together  by 
the  strong  bonds  of  personal  friendship  and  a  common  love 
of  poetry.  In  1815  they  published  a  volume  of  their  united 
poems  under  the  title  "  Bundesbliithen,"  which  contains  the 
first  fruits  of  Miiller's  gifts.1  A  somewhat  extended  search 
through  university  libraries  in  Germany  failed  to  disclose  the 
book,  and  on  going  to  Berlin  I  was  disappointed  that  it  was 
not  entered  among  Miiller's  works  in  the  catalogue  of  the 
Royal  Library.  One  day  while  reading  the  book-titles  under 
the  numerous  "  Wilhelm  Miillers "  who  occur  in  that  cata- 
logue, I  found  a  cross-reference  to  the  book  among  the  works 
of  quite  a  different  individual.  The  volume  is  dated  "  Berlin 
1816.  In  der  Maurerschen  Buchhandlung."  I  later  found 
another  copy  (preserving  the  original  cover  of  blue  paper)  in 
the  British  Museum.  Miiller's  contributions  include  20  titles, 
as  follows : 

1.  An  die  Leser,  173. 

2.  Morgenlied  am  Tage  der  ersten  Schlacht,  174. 

3.  Erinnerung  und  Hoffhung,  176. 

4.  Leichenstein  meines  Freundes  Ludwig  Bornemann,  179. 

5.  Dithyramb.     Geschrieben  in  der  Neujahrsnaeht  1813,  183. 

lGedichte,  ed.  Max  Miiller,  i,  xviii. 
250 


THE    EARLIEST    POEMS   OF   WILHELM    MUJ.LER.        251 

6.  Die  zerbrochene  Zither.    Romanze,  190. 

7.  Der  Verbannte.    Romanze,  193. 

8.  Der  Ritter  und  die  Dime.    Romanze,  195. 

9.  Die  Blutbecher.    Romanze,  199. 

10.  Das  Band.    Romanze,  203. 

11.  Stdndchen,  205. 

12.  DerKuss,1  207. 

13.  Der  Zephyr?  207. 

14.  Die  erste  Rose,  208. 

15.  Die  letzte  Rose,  208. 

16.  Mailiedchen,  209. 

17.  ^.mors  Triumph,  210. 

18.  Weckt  sie  nicht,  211. 

19.  Ihr Sehlummer*  212. 

20.  Epigram  me : 

1.  TFezTie,  213. 

2.  Amor  und  die  Muse,  213. 

3.  .Lenz  und  Amor,  213. 

4.  .Mars  wncZ  Amor,  214. 

5.  ^otfo  alsSchdfer,  215. 

6.  Owss  des  Winters,  215. 

7.  Auf  einen  Sternseher,  217. 

8.  J.K/  den  Dichter  Krispin,  217. 
9.-18.  Auf  denselben,  217-220. 

^.n  die  Leser. 

Empfangt  im  leichten  Liederkleide 
Mich  wie  ich  war  und  wie  ich  bin  ! 

1Keprinted,  Gedichte,  I,  151.  Bundesblulhen,  1.  1  reads:  "Ich  kiisste  einst 
Amandens  Mund."  In  1.  7  occurs  "  Verschen"  for  "  Verse." 

8  Gedichte,  I,  154.  Bundesblilthen,  1.3:  "  Ein  Rosenblatt  mein  Hochzeit- 
bett."  L.  4 :  "  wenn  "  for  "  wann."  L.  5 :  "  Friihling  "  for  "  Lenze." 

3  Gedichte,  I,  170,  under  the  title,  "  Die  Schlummernde."  Eundesbliilhen, 
1. 1 :  '-'Amanda"  for  " mein  Madchen."  L.  2 :  " ihrer  "  for  " einer."  L.  14 : 
"  hingst  du  da  "  for  "  hingest  du." 

7 


252  J.    T.    HATFIELD. 

Sich  zeigen,  1st  des  Dichters  Freude, 
Aufrichtig  heiszt  des  Deutschen  Sinn  : 
Drum  wollt*  ich  Nichts  vor  euch  verhehlen, 
Ihr  mogt  nun  selbst  das  Beste  wahlen. 

Was  ich  geirrt  im  Sang  und  Leben, 
Nehmts  nicht  zu  hoch  dem  Jiingling  auf : 
Eu'r  Beifall  muss  ihm  Schwingen  geben, 
Soil  er  zu  bess'rem  Ziel  hinauf. 
Mag  sie  auch  weuig  Duft  versprechen, 
Wollt  nicht  zu  schnell  die  Knospe  brechen  ! 

So  wie  die  Nacht  den  Tag  entziindet, 
Bliiht  Freiheitslust  aus  Sklavenharm  : 
Das  Herz,  das  nimmer  menschlich  siindet, 
Schlagt  auch  fur  Gottliches  nicht  warm, 
Und  wer  kein  falsches  Wort  gesungen, 
Dem  ist  auch  Schones  nie  gelungen. 

Morgenlied  am  Tage  der  ersten  Schlacht. 

Frisch  auf!    Dort  steigt  der  Morgeustern  : 
Ihr  Briider,  zieht  das  Schwert ! 
Der  erste  Kampf  ist  nicht  mehr  fern 
Fur  Vaterland  und  Heerd. 

Ein  Danklied  sey  dem  Herrn  gebracht 
Fur  dieses  Tageslicht : 
Und  folgt  ihm  auch  die  lange  Nacht, 
Nach  Morgen  bangt  uns  nicht. 

Wer  heute  lebt,  der  lebt  genug, 
Ein  Tag  wiegt  Jahre  auf: 
Messt  nicht  nach  leerer  Stunden  Flug 
Des  Kriegers  Lebenslauf ! 


THE   EARLIEST   POEMS   OF   WILHELM   MULLEB.         253 

Seht !    Herrmanns  Riesenschatten  stieg 
Herab  vom  Wolkensaal : 
Er  tragt  die  Seele  nach  dem  Sieg 
Zu  seinem  Heldenmahl. 

Aus  Franzenschadeln  trinken  wir 
Dort  unsern  deutschen  Trank 
Und  feiern  Wilhelms  Siegeszier 
Mit  altem  Bardensang. 

Was  zeigst  du  uns  dein  Sklavenband 
Und  den  gestiirzten  Thron  ? 
Frei  wirst  du,  liebes  Vaterland, 
Frei  bist  du  heute  schon. 

Mit  Kranzen  ist  dein  Haupt  geschmiickt, 
Mit  Eichenlaub  dein  Thron  : 
Denn  wer  gen  Hirnmel  glaubig  blickt, 
Siegt  vor  dem  Kampfe  schon. 

O  seht,  er  braust  voll  Lust  empor 
Der  graue  Vater  Rhein, 
Er  streckt  nach  uns  die  Arme  vor 
Und  will  entfesselt  seyn. 

Die  Madchen  flechten  manchen  Kranz 
Und  flechten  Thranen  ein  : 
So  ziert  die  Stirn  kein  goldner  Glanz : 
Wer  kann  da  feige  seyn  ? 

Frisch  auf  zum  Streite,  Rosz  und  Mann  ! 
Die  Schlachttrommete  klingt. 
Uns  fiihren  gute  Engel  an  : 
Drum,  Briider,  kampft  und  singt ! 

Gott  hat  uns  seinen  Blitz  geliehn, 
Wir  halten  sein  Gericht. 


254  J.   T.   HATFIELD. 

Seht,  wie  die  Siinderheerden  fliehn, 
Yor  UDsrem  Rachelicht ! 

Gleich  Todesengeln  folgen  wir 
Mit  flammenrothera  Schwerdt, 
Bis  durch  die  offne  Hollenthiir 
Die  Hollenrotte  fahrt. 

Erinnerung  und  Hoffnung. 

Nach  dem  Ruckzug  uber  die  Elbe 
im  Mai  1813. 

Wie  manche  stille  Mitternacht, 

Wann  Freund'  und  Feinde  schlafen, 

Hast  schon,  mein  armes  Herz,  durch  wacht ! 
Will  Gott  die  Sehnsucht  strafen  ? 

Muszt  fuhllos  wie  dein  Panzer  seyn, 

Soil  dich  des  Schlummers  Trost  erfreun. 

Nein,  Scbluramer,  nein,  um  diesen  Preis 
Will  ich  dich  nicht  erkaufen. 

Herab,  du  schweres  Panzereis  ! 
Frei  soil  die  Thrane  laufen. 

Der  Flamberg  sieht  sie  heute  nicht : 

Mein  Zelt  belauscht  nur  Mondes  Licht. 

Erinn'rung,  koram,  du  treue  Maid, 

Mit  deinen  welken  Rosen  : 
In  bittrer  Lust,  in  siiszem  Leid, 

Lass  uns  ein  Weilchen  kosen  ! 
Wie  strahlt  so  hold  dein  nasser  Blick 
Mein  Lebensparadies  zuriick  ! 

Noch  einmal  will  ich  mich  ergehn 

In  seinem  Sonnenscheine, 
Auf  seinera  stolzen  Wolkenhohn, 

In  seinem  Rosen haine. 


THE   EARLIEST   POEMS   OF    WILHELM    MULLEB.         255 

Ihr  lieben  Herzensblumen  dort, 
Lebt  alle  frisch  und  frdhlich  fort ! 

Ach,  werd'  ich  einst  euch  wiedersehn 

Und  euren  Dank  gewinnen, 
Wann  rings  die  Flammenzeichen  wehn 

Von  Deutschlands  freien  Zinnen  ? 
O  sagt  da  droben  mir  kein  Stern  : 
Bleibt  dieser  Tag  denn  ewig  fern  ? 

Auf,  auf !  Aus  der  Verzagung  Staub, 

Mein  Herz,  empor  dich  ringe  ! 
Es  rauscht,  als  ob  sich  frisches  Laub 

Um  meine  Locken  schlinge  : 
Die  heisze  Thrane  selber  lacht 
Und  helle  wird  die  Mitternacht. 

Willkommen,  Hermanns  Eichenhain ! 

Willkorumen,  Bardenreigen ! 
O  seht,  wie  sich  die  Madchen  freun, 

Wenn  wir  die  Narben  zeigen  ! 
Wem  hier  das  Schwerdt  nicht  rosig  glanzt, 
Der  wird  von  keiner  Eos'  umkranzt. 

Und  klingen  hor?  ich  deutschen  Sang 

In  rein  en  Vaterweisen 
Und  Minnegliick  und  Waffenklang 

Und  Gott  und  Konig  preisen 
An  meine  Brust  auch  pocht  es  an : 
Ich  bin  ja  noch  ein  freier  Mann  ! 

Ha,  wie  bei  diesem  stolzen  Wort 

Die  bangen  Thranen  schweigen 
Und  wie  im  niedren  Lagerort 

Die  Marmorsaulen  steigen : 
Zu  Seid'  und  Purpur  wird  die  Streu  : 
Ich  Keg'  auf  deutscher  Erde  frei  ! 


256  J.   T.    HATFIELD. 

Und  dieser  Trunk  vom  Wiesenquell, 
Er  schmeckt  wie  Wodans  Becher. 

Lass  blinken  dort  die  Flaschen  hell ! 
Es  sind  doch  Sclavenzecher. 

O  trinkt  uns  keinen  deutschen  Wein  : 

Der  musz  zum  Freiheitsfeste  seyn ! 

Die  edlen  Rosse  wiehern  schon, 
Es  steigt  die  Morgensonne. 

Ich  ku'ss'  dich,  treuer  Eisensohn, 
Du  blanke  Reuterwonne ! 

Blast,  blast,  auf  dasz  ich  schlagen  kann, 

Mit  Kettenbrut  ein  freier  Mann  ! 


Leichenstein  meines  Freundes  Ludwig  Bornemann. 

Noch  einraal  heut  zu  Rosse ! 
Die  Fahrt  ist  Reitens  werth. 
Umschling  rnich,  Kampfgenosse, 
Du  treues  Reuterschwerdt ! 


Ich  will  nicht  mit  dir  scherzen 
In  lust'ger  Friedenszeit, 
Will  nicht  aus  schwerem  Herzen 
Mir  tummeln  Minneleid. 

Heim  muss  die  Freude  bleiben, 
Nur  Thranen  nehm'  ich  mit : 
Doch  Ritterschmerzen  treiben 
Zum  ritterlichen  Ritt. 

Ich  will  nach  einem  Hiigel, 
Wo  Freundes  Asche  ruht : 
Drum  frisch  nun  in  die  Biigel ! 
Fiir  Deutschland  flosz  sein  Blut. 


THE    EARLIEST   POEMS   OF   WILHELM    MULLEB.         257 

Budissin,  Stadt  des  Blutes, 
Blickst  mich  so  finster  an  : 
Du  Grab  des  Brennenmuthes, 
Grab  meines  Bornemann  ! 

Hier  will  ich  niedersteigen, 
Ein  fromraer  Pilgersmann, 
Und  in  das  Gras  mich  neigen, 
Wo  solch  ein  Born  verrann. 

Aus  ihm  hab'  ich  genossen 
Des  Lebens  bestes  Gut, 
Aus  ihm  ist  mir  geflossen 
Der  heiPge  Kriegesmuth. 

Er  that  mein  Herz  erwarmen 
Der  Lieb'  und  dem  Gesang, 
Er  liesz  mich  Kranze  schwarmen, 
Als  Wilhelms  Ruf  erklang. 

Da  sind  wir  ausgeritten 
Wohl  mit  der  ersten  Schaar 
Und  haben  froh  gestritten, 
Ein  briiderliches  Paar. 

Und  haben  gern  getheilet 
Des  Krieges  Lust  uud  Leid 
Und  SeeP  und  Leib  geheilet 
Mit  frischem  Liederstreit. 

Herr  Zebaoth  der  Schlachten, 
Gelobt  dein  Name  sey  ! 
Nach  Freiheit  stand  sein  Trachten, 
Da  machtest  du  ihn  frei. 

Doch  ach,  warum  mich  lassen 
Im  wilden  Kampf  allein  ? 


258  J.    T.    HATPIELD. 

Mit  ihm  sah  ich  erblassen 
Das  beste  Leben  mein. 

Die  Bliithe  ist  gefallen  : 
Was  soil  der  diirre  Zweig  ? 
Doch  so  hats  Gott  gefallen 
Und  weis'  ist  Gottes  Reich. 

Was  noch  mein  Schwerdt  geschlagen, 
O  Freund,  nach  deinem  Tod  ? 
WolP  mich  danach  nicht  fragen  : 
Die  Frage  macht  mich  roth. 

Ich  hab'  es  nur  geschwungen 
In  kalter  Kriegespflicht, 
Hab'  nimmermehr  gesungen 
Ein  frohes  Siegsgedicht. 

Und  als  wir  ausgestritten 
Der  Freiheit  letzte  Schlacht, 
Da  hab'  ich  viel  gelitten 
Von  Satans  Uebermacht. 

Wohl  hab'  ich  schnell  zerbrochen 
Sein  eisenfestes  Band, 
Doch  hat  sich  schwer  gerochen 
An  mir  die  Gotteshand. 

Und  was  ich  jetzt  noch  habe 
Des  Guten  im  Gesang, 
Ist  nur  aus  deinem  Grabe 
Eiu  ferner  Wiederklang. 

Du  hast  mich  auch  gelehret 
Diesz  Lied  so  tre'u  und  rein, 
Drum  sey  es  dir  verehret 
Zum  from  men  Leichenstein. 


THE   EARLIEST   POEMS   OF   WIJLHELM    MULLEB.         259 

Dithyramb. 
Geschrieben  in  der  Neujahrsnacht  1813. 

Willkommen,  willkommen, 
Strahlende  Jungfrau, 
Sonne  des  neuen 
Dammernden  Morgens  ! 
Lebt  wohl,  lebt  wohl, 
Ihr  grauen  Freunde, 
Stnnden  des  alten 
Sinkenden  Jahrs  ! 
Beim  Becherklang 
Will  ich  die  Hand  euch 
Reichen  zum  Abschied. 
Opfer  des  Danks, 
Stromende  Thranen 
Giesz'  ich  in  eure 
Nachtliche  Graft. 
Lebt  wohl,  lebt  wohl, 
Ihr  grauen  Haupter ! 
Aber  mit  jungen 
Bliihenden  Ziigen 
Hat  die  Erinn'rung 
In  raeine  Seele 
Eu'r  Bild  gemahlt. 
Lebt  wohl,  lebt  wohl ! 
Fiir  eure  Freuden, 
Fiir  eure  Leiden, 
Stromende  Thranen 
Opfer  des  Danks ! 

Willkommen,  willkommen, 
Strahlende  Jungfrau, 
Sonne  des  neuen 
Dammernden  Jahrs  ! 


260  J.    T.    HATFIELD. 


Du  liiftest  leise 

Den  tiefsten  Saum 

Des  dunkeln  Mantels, 

Der  von  den  Sohlen 

Bis  zu  den  Locken 

Den  Leib  ihm  deckt. 

Aber  mit  bunten 

Blumen  und  Bandern 

Und  mit  des  Lorbeers 

Prangendem  Griin 

Schmiickt  sich  der  Sterbliche 

Wachend  und  traumend 

Kings  das  geheime 

HeiFge  Gewand. 

Und  lachelnd  streckt  er 

Die  Arme  aus, 

Nach  seinen  Blumen 

Und  seinen  Flittern 

Voll  Sehnsucht  aus. 

Du  walPst  ihm  entgegen 

Eine  herrliche  Braut ; 

Es  fiihrt  die  Hoffnung, 

Sein  dienend  Weib, 

Die  Schonbekranzte 

Ihm  in  den  Arm. 

Wehe,  da  heben  sich  Stiirme  auf  Stiirme, 

Morgen  und  Abend  erwachen  zu  m  Krieg : 

Vom  Himmel  zucken 

Kreuzende  Flammen, 

Vom  Himmel  briillen 

Zerrissene  Wolken. 

Die  schone  Braut 

Steht  ohne  Kranz, 

Steht  ohne  Duft, 

Yom  Sturm  entlaubt. 

Es  bebt  zuriick 


THE   EARLIEST   POEMS   OF    WILHELM   MULLER,         261 

Der  Brautigam, 
Die  Hoffhung  flieht 
Mit  ihrem  Schmuck, 
Der  Schleier  hebt 
Sich  seufzend  auf 
Und  kalt  und  nackt 
Und  diirr  und  bleich 
Reicht  ihm  die  Hand 
Die  Gegenwart. 

Willkommen,  willkommen, 
Strahlende  Jungfrau, 
Sonne  des  neuen 
Daramernden  Jahrs  ! 

Was  du  auch  spendest, 
Was  du  auch  raubst, 
Mit  stummer  Ergebung 
Neig'  ich  mein  Haupt 
Und  kiisse  die  Hand, 
Die  giebt  und  nirnmt. 
Was  auch  die  voile 
Schaumende  Schaale 
Der  Zukunft  birgt, 
Mit  bittern  Tropfen 
WTiirz'  ich  den  Honig 
Und  dankend  schliirP  ich 
Den  Lebenstrank. 
Armer  Geborner, 
Nichts  hast  du  weiter 
Als  diesen  Tropfen, 
Nichts  Andres  nenne 
Dein  Eigenthum  ! 
Er  stromt  hiniiber 
Mit  schnellem  Sturz 
Aus  den  Bergen  der  Zukunft 


262          „  J.    T.    HATFIELD. 

In  deine  Tiefen, 
Vergangenheit ! 
O  schliirf  ihn  gierig, 
Den  schnellen  Tropfen, 
Armer  Geborner, 
Dein  Eigenthum  ! 
Hat  dir  die  Zukunft 
Etwas  verpfandet, 
Hast  du  mit  Schwiiren 
Auf  deinen  Scheitel 
Dir  angekettet 
Die  Spenderinn  ? 
Und  was  die  andre 
Gierige  Sch  wester 
In  ihre  vollen 
Glanzenden  Kammern 
Hinunterschlang, 
Das  halt  sie  fest 
Mit  Adlerklauen 
Und  giebt  es  nimmer 
Und  nimmer  wieder. 
O  schliirf '  ihn  gierig 
Den  schnellen  Tropfen, 
Armer  Geborner, 
Dein  Eigenthum  ! 

Willkommen,  willkommen, 
Strahlende  Juugfrau, 
Sonne  des  neuen 
Dammerndeu  Jahrs ! 

Dein  Auge  lacht 
Mich  freundlich  an 
Und  bunt  umschwebt 
Dich  Festgesang. 
Mit  diesem  Blicke, 


THE    EARLIEST    POEMS   OF   WILHELM    MULLER.         263 

Mit  diesem  Liede, 

So  gieb  mir  eiost 

Den  Abschiedskusz ! 

Mit  Ungliick  schwanger 

Geht  Erdengliick  : 

Keinen  zu  preisen, 

Bis  er  am  Grabe  steht, 

Lehren  uns  alte 

Heilige  Spriiche. 

Wir  schwingeu  die  Becher 

Voll  Nektarduft, 

Die  SchlaP  umkranzt 

Mit  frischem  Grim : 

Doch  vor  der  tobenden  Pforte  lauscht, 

Am  hocherhellten  Fenster  schleicht 

Das  Ungliick  umher 

Und  wetzt  sein  Schwerdt, 

Das  blutige, 

An  unsrer  Lust. 

Und  Arm  in  Arm 

Schreitet  der  durre 

Schwinger  der  Sense 

Mit  ihm  daher. 

Wenn  uns  des  Mittags 

Lichteste  Strahlen 

Schmeichelnd  umgliihn, 

Siehe,  dann  thurmen 

Drohende  Wolken 

Schon  an  des  Himmels 

Saume  sich  anf. 

So  saugt  das  Verderben 

Sich  aus  der  Sonne 

Des  goldnen  Gliicks,   • 

Sich  aus  dem  Monde 

Der  stillen  Wonne 

Markige  Safte 


264  J.    T.    HATFIELD. 

In  seine  langen 
Eisernen  Arme 
Zum  Meisterstreich. 

Willkorameu,  willkommen, 
Strahlende  Jungfrau, 
Sonne  des  neuen 
Damniernden  Jahrs ! 

Die  zerbrochene  Zither. 
Romanze. 

"Leb  wohl,  leb  wohl,  Geliebte  mein, 
"  Und  ziigle  deinen  Schmerz  ! 

"  Ich  darf  nicht  langer  bei  dir  seyn 
uUnd  brach/  mir  auch  das  Herz. 

"  Der  Konig  ruft :  Wer  zieht  mit  mir  ? 

"  Wie  blieb'  ich  da  zuriick  ! 
"  Verwahre  meine  Zither  hier  : 

"Ihr  dank'  ich  all  mein  Gliick." 

Die  Trommel  klang,  das  Jagdhorn  rief, 
Der  Jiingling  risz  sich  los, 

Und  manche  heisze  Thrane  lief 
Herab  auf  sein  Geschosz. 

Da  zog  er  bin  in  bittrem  Harm, 
Das  Herz  von  Seufzern  voll, 

Bis  in  dem  wilden  Kriegesschwarm 
Sein  Klagelied  verscholl. 

Maria  !  rief  er  und  sein  Speer 
Ward  roth  vom  ersten  Blut : 

Geliebte,  sey  mir  Schiid  und  Wehr 
Und  starke  meinen  Muth  ! 


THE   EARLIEST   POEMS   OF   WILHELM   MULLER.         265 

Und  also  schlug  er  manche  Schlacht 

Fiir  Gott  und  Vaterland, 
Doch  manche  frohe  Siegesnacht 

Ihn  ohne  Jubel  fand. 

Denn  ach,  sein  Liebchen  schreibt  ihm  nicht 

Sechs  voile  Monde  lang 
Und  dreimal  schon  im  Traumgesicht 

Umseufzt  ihm  Grabgesang. 

Bald  kront'  uns  Gott  mit  Siegesgliick 

Und  Deutschland  wurde  frei : 
Da  sprach  der  Konig  :  Kehrt  zuriick  ! 

Das  Kriegen  ist  vorbei. 

Der  Jager  schwang  sich  auf  sein  Rosz 

Und  trabte  Tag  und  Nacht, 
Dasz  Schweisz  von  Thier  und  Eeuter  flosz, 

Bis  es  ihn  heimgebracht. 

Schon  blickt  sein  Thurm  ihn  freundlich  an 

Und  jeder  Giebel  winkt, 
Da  spornt  er  wild  den  Renner  an, 

Dass  er  zu  Boden  sinkt. 

Er  lauft  zu  Fusz  zum  Thor  herein 

Und  klopft  an  Liebchens  Haus : 
Da  ist  Gesang  und  Tanz  und  Wein, 

Als  war'  ein  Freudenschmaus. 

"Herab,  herab,  Geliebte  mein  ! 

"Dein  Brautigam  ist  hier. 
"Er  kehrt  aus  Frankreich,  dich  zu  frein  : 

"Komm,  offne  ihm  die  Thiir  !" 

Auf  einmal  wird  sein  Herz  so  schwer, 
Er  weisz  nicht,  was  es  will, 


266  J.    T.    HATFIELD. 

Und  angstlich  blickt  er  bin  und  her : 
Da  wird's  im  Hause  still. 

Und  nur  in  Liebchens  Kammerlein 
1st  noch  ein  schwaches  Licht : 

Den  Jiingling  starkt  sein  tranter  Schein 
Mit  frischer  Zuversicht. 

Horch,  borch,  die  Sehnsucht  ist  am  Ziel ! 

Das  belle  Fenster  klingt ! 
Da  fliegt  herab  sein  Saitenspiel 

Und  fallt  und  seufzt  und  springt. 

Der  Jiingling  hort  den  Todesklang 
Und  singt  der  Zither  nach  : 

Da  ward  er  bleich,  sein  Odem  sank 
Und  seine  Seele  bracb. 


Der  Verbannte. 
Romanze. 

Jiingst  zog  ein  Ritter  iibern  Rhein  : 
Er  kam  aus  walschen  Landen, 

Wo  lang  ein  holdes  Madelein 
Ihn  hielt  an  Minnebanden. 

Doch  leicht  ist  walscbes  Weiberblut : 

Drum  klagt  des  deutschen  Ritters  Muth, 

"Willkommen,  liebes  Vaterland-! 

"Wirst  du  dem  Sohn  vergeben, 
"Der  dich  um  fremden  Liebestand 

"Gern  hatte  hingegeben? 
"Nun  liegt  ein  Andrer  ihr  im  Arm, 
"  Doch  du  bist  ewig  fest  und  warm  ! 


THE    EARLIEST   POEMS   OP   WILHELM   MULLER.          267 

"Bleib  driiben,  fremder  Minneschmerz, 

"An  deinem  fremdeu  Strande  ! 
"Schlag  deutsch  und  frei,  mein  armes  Herz, 

"Im  freien  deutschen  Lande ! 
"Und  willst  du  gern  in  Fesseln  seyn, 
"Hier  sind  die  Madchen  treu  und  rein. 

"  Herr  Wirth,  gebt  mir  ein  Flaschchen  Wein 

"  Von  euren  besten  Reben  ! 
"  Es  heiszt  ja  hier  :  der  Yater  Rhein 

"Soil  Trost  im  Kummer  geben. 
"So  schenkt  mir  nun  den  Becher  voll, 
"Denn  mir  ist  heut  das  Herz  nicht  wohl." 

Er  trinkt  den  griinen  Romer  aus, 

Doch  will  er  ihm  nicht  munden  : 
"  Habt  ihr  nicht  bessern  Wein  zu  Haus, 

"Herr  Wirth,  fur  eure  Kunden?" 
"  "  Herr,  bessern  gab's  auf  Erden  nicht, 
""So  lang'  am  Rhein  man  Trauben  bricht."" 

"O  weh,  will  denn  kein  deutscher  Wein 

"Das  Herz  mir  rnehr  erquicken? 
"Kann  mich  kein  Madchenaug'  erfreun 

"Mit  deutschen  Liebesblicken  ? 
"Fremd  musz  ich  seyu  im  Vaterhaus: 
"Ich  bannte  mich  ja  selbst  hinaus. 

"  Wohl  f allt  mir  jetzt  ein  Leidchen  ein, 

"  Das  ich  dort  einst  gesungen  : 
"Es  fallt  aufs  Herz  mir  schwer  wie  Stein 

"Und  brennt  auf  meiner  Zungen  : 
"  "  Feinliebchen,  deine  weisze  Hand 
"  "  Ist  Y ater  mir  und  Yaterland  ! "  " 

"Nun  irr'  ich  in  der  Welt  umher, 

"Hab's  Irren  mir  erkoren. 
8 


268  J.    T.    HATFIELD. 

"Doch  Heimweh  driickt  mein  Herz  so  schwer 

"Es  hat  sein  Land  verloren. 
"O  zeigt  kein  Wandrer  ihm  die  Bahn, 
"Auf  der  es  Ruhe  finden  kann?" 

Der  Ritter  und  die  Dime. 
Romanze. 

Ein  Ritter  klopft  urn  Mitternacht 
An  Gretchens  Fensterlein  : 

Das  Dirnenbild  vom  Schlaf  erwacht 
Und  laszt  ihn  zitternd  ein. 

Der  Fremdling  tritt  ins  Kammerlein, 

Als  war'  er  wohl  bekannt : 
Alsbald  erlischt  der  Lampe  Schein 

Yon  unsichtbarer  Hand. 

Laszt  mich  mein  Lampchen  ziinden  an, 
Herr  Ritter,  spricht  die  Maid  : 

Ihr  seyd  ein  gar  zu  wilder  Mann 
Und  grausig  ist  eu'r  Kleid. 

"Wozu  die  Lampe,  Dime  fein  ?" 
Der  schwarze  Ritter  spricht : 
"Will  sanfter  als  ein  Lammlein  seyn  : 
"Die  Minne  braucht  kein  Licht." 

Horcht,  Ritter,  horcht,  die  Eulen  schrein ! 

Mir  wird  das  Herz  so  bang. 
Ich  bin  im  weiten  Haus  allein 

Und  Nacht  ist  noch  so  lang. 

"Hast  ja  im  Arm  den  Buhlen  dein, 

"Der  kiirzt  dir  diese  Nacht: 
"Bist  nicht  im  weiten  Haus  allein  : 

"  Die  ew'ge  Rache  wacht." 


THE   EARLIEST   POEMS   OF   WTLHELM   MULLER.         269 

Ach,  Rittersmann,  ihr  seyd  so  kalt 

Wie  Wilhelms  Grabesnacht ! 
Ich  schreie  Feuer  und  Gewalt : 

Ihr  koramt  aus  Satan s  Macht. 

"Recht,  Dime,  recht !    Da  trafst  das  Wort : 

"Ich  komm'  aus  Satans  Macht, 
"Und  mit  mir  musz  mein  Gretchen  fort: 

"  Das  Brautbett  ist  gemacht." 

Ach,  heilger  Christ,  errette  mich  ! 

Du  boser  Geist,  lass  ab  ! 
Gern,  Wilhelra,  gern  umarmt'  ich  dich, 

Doch  fiircht*  ich  sehr  das  Grab. 

Warum  denn,  wilder  Rittersmann, 

Hast  gleich  dich  umgebracht? 
Mein  Herz  ja  Zwei  wohl  minnen  kann 

Mit  heiszer  Liebesmacht ! 

Ach,  tief  hat  raich  dein  Tod  betriibt, 

Viel  Thranen  weint'  ich  dir, 
Uud  wenn  auch  du  mich  einst  geliebt, 

So  hebe  dich  von  hier. 

"Darf  dich  nicht  lassen,  schone  Maid, 

"Musz  holen  Herz  und  Hand, 
"Die  du  mir  gabst  in  alter  Zeit 

"Mit  Schwur  und  Liebespfand. 

"Und  an  den  Schwiiren  halt'  ich  dich 

"Und  ziehe  dich  hinab  : 
"Drum,  siisze  Brant,  umarme  mich  ! 

"Die  Hahne  rufen  ab. 

"Mit  diesem  Kusz  ich  dich  verzeih', 
"Was  Mensch  verzeihen  kann  : 


270  J.    T.    HATFIELD. 

f<Der  Kusz  macht  meine  Seele  frei 
"Vom  schweren  Sundenbann. 

"Dich  richte  Gott  an  jenem  Orfc 

"Mit  mildera  Vatersinn  ! 
"Ich  hab'  gebiiszt  den  grim  men  Mord 

"Im  Blut  der  Morderinn." 

Die  Hahne  krah'n  zum  dritten  Mai, 
Der  Geist  riecht  Morgenduft, 

Und  mit  der  todten  Maid  zumal 
Hinfliegt  er  durch  die  Luft. 

Ein  Wachter  sah'  das  Wunder  an, 
Der  hats  auch  mir  erzahlt 

Und,  weil  das  Mahrlein  frommen  kann, 
Hab'  ich  es  nicht  verhehlt. 

Wohl  mancher  feme  Wandrer  fragt 
Noch  nach  der  schonen  Maid, 

Doch  hat  kein  Herz  sie  je  beklagt 
Und  Thranen  ihr  geweiht. 

Und  in  dem  Haus,  seit  jener  Nacht, 
Da  wohnt  kein  guter  Christ, 

Denn,  ob  auch  Mancher  driiber  lacht, 
Der  Ort  nicht  heimlich  ist. 


Die  Blutbecher. 
Romanze. 

"Auf,  auf,  ihr  edlen  Frauen, 
"Ihr  Recken  allzumal ! 

"Der  Konig  thut  euch  laden 
"Zu  seinem  Hochzeitmal. 


THE    EARLIEST   POEMS   OF   WILHELM    MULLER.         271 

"Heut  1st  er  heimgekehret 

"Vom  fernen  Frankenland, 
"All wo  er  sich  errungen 

"Des  reichsten  Frauleins  Hand. 

"Und  rait  sich  auf  dem  Schiffe 

"Brachf  er  die  holde  Maid  : 
"Der  will  er  morgen  schworen 

"DerEheheil'gen  Bid." 

So  scholl  des  Herolds  Stimme 
Durch  Schottlands  Felsengaun : 

Da  stromten  zu  dera  Feste 
Die  Kitter  tmd  die  Fraun. 

Auf  seinem  goldnen  Throne 

Strahlt  Edgars  Konigsmacht, 
Noch  heller  ihm  zur  Rechten 

Des  Frauleins  Minnepracht. 

Und  alle  Gaste  neigen 

Sich  vor  der  fremden  Maid  : 
Doch  nahrt  wohl  mancher  Busen 

Ihr  heiszen  Liebesneid. 

Denn  in  den  Frauenherzen 

Wie  in  der  Mannerschlacht 
Hat  Edgar  stets  gewaltet 

Mit  gleicher  Herrschermacht. 

"Ihr  Schenken,  fiillt  die  Becher 

"Mit  goldnera  Frankenwein  ! 
"Der  hohen  Frankenfraue 

"  Woll'n  wir  den  ersten  weihn. 

"Gott  segne  uns  den  Konig, 
"Gott  uns  die  Koniginn 


272  J.    T.    HATFIELD. 

"Und  lasse  lang  sie  herrschen 
"Nach  seinem  heil'gen  Sinn  !" 

Da  klingen  alle  Becher, 

Das  Brautpaar  sich  verneigt : 

Und  schnell  empor  zum  Himmel 
Der  laute  Jubel  steigt. 

Was  bebt  am  Mund  der  Becher  ? 

Hat  sie  ein  Blitz  geriihrt? 
Voll  Grausen  jedes  Auge 

Nur  nach  dem  Throne  stiert. 

Denn  sieh,  in  Brautpaars  Bechern 
Rinnt  purpurhelles  Blut, 

Das  Fraulein  sinkt  zu  Boden, 
Der  Konig  halt  den  Muth. 

"  Den  Streich  hat  mir  gespielet 
"Ein  arger  Zauberer : 

"Bringt  schnell  zwei  frische  Becher 
"  Dem  Kouigspaare  her  ! " 

Der  Schenk  mit  klarem  Golde 
Zwei  neue  Becher  fiillt : 

Der  Konig  faszt  sie  beide 
Und  Blut  in  Beiden  quillt. 

Da  rafft  aus  ihrern  Taumel 

Die  Frankinn  sich  empor : 
"Wohl  kenn'  ich  diese  Tropfen, 
"Die  ihr  mir  setzet  vor. 

"  Es  sind  die  Herzenstropfen 
"Von  zweien  Bnidern  mein  : 

"Die  senden  diese  Becher 
"Zur  Mitgift  uns  herein. 


THE   EARLIEST   POEMS   OF    WLLHELM    MULLEB.         273 

"  Sie  senden  sie  heriiber 

"  Wohl  iiber's  weite  Meer  : 
"  Dort  liegen  sie  am  Ufer, 

"Durchbohrt  vom  Schottenspeer. 

"Auf,  Edgar,  lasz  uns  trinken 

"Den  Trank,  den  sie  geschickt! 
"Gar  freundlich  dieser  Becher 

"  Zu  mir  heriiberblickt. 

«  Vergebung  und  Vergessen 

"  In  dieser  Quelle  flieszt, 
"  Und  ist  sie  ausgeleeret, 

"  Ist  auch  der  Mord  gebiiszt." 

Der  Konig  unerschrocken 

Die  Schreckensrede  hort, 
Doch  ernst  und  stumm  zu  schauen 

Und  tief  ins  Herz  gekehrt. 

Und  als  sie  ausgesprochen, 

Umarmt  er  seine  Braut, 
Wie  Gatten  sich  umarmen 

Im  letzten  Scheidelaut. 

Und  Arm  in  Arm  sie  heben 

Die  Becher  blutigroth 
Und  stiirzen  sie  herunter  : 

Da  lagen  Beide  todt. 

Flugs  liefen  ans  dem  Hause 

Die  Gast'  und  Diener  fort : 
Kein  Fusz  wollt'  mehr  betreten 

Den  blut'gen  Schreckensort. 

Und  wer  das  Paar  begraben, 
Verschweigt  die  Kunde  mein, 


274  J.    T.    HATFIELD. 

Wohin  die  Seelen  kommen, 
Weisz  Gottes  Gnad'  allein. 


Das  Band. 
Romanze. 

"Was  suchst  du,  Schafer,  hier  so  spat 

"Im  dunkeln  Ulraenhain? 
"Lass  deinen  Gram  und  komm  rait  mir 

"Zum  frohen  Abendreihn  !" 

Ich  dank'  dir,  schone  Schaferinn, 
Fur  deine  Freundlichkeit : 

Doch  bleib'  ich  lieber  hier  allein 
Mit  meinem  Herzeleid. 

Ach,  die,  rait  der  ich  tanzen  will, 
Sie  wohnt  irn  Dorfe  nicht : 

Drum  musz  ich  weinen  fruh  und  spat, 
Bis  dasz  mein  Auge  bricht. 

Sie  tragt  ein  langes  seid'nes  Kleid 

Und  manchen  Edelstein, 
Ihr  Vater  soil  der  reichste  Herr 

Im  ganzen  Lande  seyn. 

Sie  kam,  das  Hirtenfest  zu  sehn, 

Und  gab  uns  Lieder  auf : 
Da  sang  ich  einen  Wettgesang 

Und  sah  zu  ihr  hinauf. 

In  ihrem  Schoosze  lag  der  Preis 
Und  Sieger  muszt'  ich  seyn ; 

Da  flocht  sie  selbst  das  schonste  Band 
In  meine  Locken  ein. 


THE    EARLIEST    POEMS   OF    WILHELM    MtJLLER.         275 

Ich  aber  blickte  bin  und  her 

Und  wurde  bleich  und  roth  : 
Die  groszen  Daraen  sahn  mich  an 

Und  lachten  meiner  Noth. 

Und  von  demselben  Augenblick 

1st  auch  mein  Herz  so  schwer 
Und  Sang  und  Tanz  und  Scherz  und  Kusz 

Ergotzt  mich  nimmermehr. 

Zerbrochen  liegt  raein  Schaferstab, 

Die  Heerde  irrt  allein 
Und  winselnd  folgt  mein  treues  Thier 

Mir  in  den  tiefsten  Hain. 

Dann  flecht'  ich  stolz  um  meine  Stirn 

Das  allerschonste  Band 
Und,  wenn  ich's  fiihle,  denk'  ich  mir, 

Ich  fiihlte  ihre  Hand. 

Erst  war  es  blan  und  rosenroth, 

Ich  aber  kiiszt'  es  bleich 
Und  meine  Krone  tausch'  ich  nicht 

Mit  einem  Konigreich. 

Leb  wolil  nun,  sclione  Schaferinn, 

Und  trockne  deinen  Blick  ! 
Dein  Herz  ist  wie  dein  Auge  weich  : 

Gott  schenk'  ihm  Minnegliick  ! 

Stdndchen. 

Klinge,  mein  Leierchen,  klinge  ! 
Rufe  mein  Madchen  heraus  ! 
Dringe,  mein  Liedelchen,  dringe 
Munter  ins  schlummernde  Haus  ! 


276  J.    T.    HATFIELD. 

Schlummre  nur,  Miitterchen,  iramer ! 
Tochterchen,  schlummre  noch  nicht ! 
Lasz  mir  vom  obersten  Ziramer 
Winken  dein  freundlicbes  Licht ! 

Diifte  der  bliihendeu  Linden 
Buhlen  urns  Fenster  mit  mir, 
Mochten  die  Liebliche  finden, 
Scherzen  und  kosen  mit  ihr. 

Siehe,  es  blicken  die  Sterne 
Nieder  mit  sehnlichem  Schein, 
Blicken  ins  Fenster  so  gerne, 
Gliickliche  Sterne !  hinein. 

Habt  ihr  sie  droben  gesehen  ? 
Sagt  mir,  ob  Liebchen  schon  liegt ! 
Winkt  mir  von  hinnen  zu  gehen, 
Hat  sie  der  Schlummer  besiegt ! 

Museu,  euch  konnt'  ich  entsagen, 
Hatte  mein  Lied  sie  geweckt. 
Leier,  dich  musz  ich  zerschlagen, 
Wenn  sie  dein  Standchen  erschreckt, 

Klinge,  mein  Leierchen,  klinge, 
Klinge  mein  Madchen  zur  Ruh, 
Singe,  mein  Liedelcheu,  singe 
Frohliche  Traiime  ihr  zu  ! 


Die  erste  Rose. 

Dich  hat  ein  fruher  West  gekiiszt, 
Der  erste  Strahl  der  Maiensonne 
Umarmte  dich  mit  Jiinglingsgluth. 


THE    EARLIEST   POEMS   OF    WILHELM    MULLER.          277 

Ich  breche  dich,  doch  traure  nicht, 
Dem  Rauber  strecke  dich  entgegen : 
Ich  breche  dich  fur  ihre  Brust. 

Gern  neigt'  ich  dort,  du  Friihlingskind 
Sie  sterbend  noch  mit  Diiften  labend, 
Mein  welkes  Haupt  an  deiner  Statt ! 

Die  letzte  Rose. 

Dich  deckten  Amors  Fliigelchen, 

Das  nicht  des  Winters  Hauch  dich  trafe, 

Mit  einem  sommerwarmen  Dach. 

Zur  Zierde  fur  Amandens  Brust 
Bewahrte  dich  der  Gott  der  Liebe : 
Ich  pfliicke  dich  auf  seinen  Wink. 

Wie  hat  der  Himmel  dir  gelacht ! 
Du  stirbst  vor  Lust  an  ihrem  Busen 
Und  lebst  vielleicht  im  Liede  fort. 


Mailiedchen. 

Mai  kommt  gezogen, 
Lerche  geflogen  : 

Eilet  nicht  so ! 
Habe  kein  Liebchen  noch  : 
Friihling,  du  kannst  mich  doch 

Machen  nicht  froh. 

Herzchen,  mein  armes  Kind, 
Weht  dir  Decemberwind 

Noch  in  der  Brust  ?  , 

Lass  nun  das  enge  Haus, 
Fleig  mit  der  Lerche  aus  ! 

Flattern  ist  Lust. 


278  J.    T.    HATFIELD. 

Wirst  ja  zum  Monche  hier  : 
Suche  Gespielin  dir 

Drauszen  im  Hain  ! 
Maien  erbliihen, 
Madchen  ergliihen, 

Bist  du  von  Stein  ? 

Amors  Triumph. 

Als  ich  ein  Kind  war, 
Sah  ich  den  Amor 
Auf  bunten  Bildern, 
Ein  Knabchen  wie  ich, 
Wie  er  mit  diinnen 
Rosengewinden 
Bewaffnete  Manner 
Und  zottige  Lowen 
Sich  fing  und  band  : 
Und  lachen  muszt'  ich. 

Nun  bin  ich  ein  Jiingling 
Und  trage  den  Panzer 
Und  Helm  mid  Schwerdt 
Und  Amor  zieht  mich, 
Wohin  er  will, 
Und  treibt  mit  mir 
Sein  Kinderspiel, 
Doch  statt  der  Kranze 
Mit  Eisenketten  : 
Und  weinen  mocht'  ich. 

Weckt  sie  nicht! 

i       Hinweg,  hinweg, 
Ihr  losen  Zephyre  ! 
Ihr  werdet  sie  wecken 
Mit  euren  Kiissen 


THE   EARLIEST   POEMS   OF    WILHELM   MULLER.         279 

Und  eurem  Spiel. 
Weckt  sie  mir  nicht ! 
Oder  Kupido 
Soli  es  erfahren. 
Dann  schickt  er  euch  alle, 
Den  Frevel  zu  biiszen, 
Hinab  in  die  Kerker 
Der  ewigen  Nacht, 
Dort  um  die  kalten 
Triefenden  Scheitel 
Bleicher  Verdammter 
Seufzend  zu  facheln 
Und  den  dreischlundigen 
Hiiter  der  Holle 
In  Schlaf  zu  lullen. 

Epigramme. 
1.  Weihe. 

Wie  sieh  raein  Busen  erhebt,  so  erhebt  der  heroische  Vers 
sich 

Cnd  im  fallenden  Ach  fallt  er  elegisch  herab. 
Liebe  nur  bring'  ich  der  Welt  und  Liebe  nur  fodr'  ich  zurucke: 

Was  ihr  dem  Sanger  versagt,  werde  dem  Liede  zu  Theil. 

2.  Amor  und  die  Muse. 

Amor  spannte  den  Bogen  und  zielte ;  da  winkte  die  Muse : 
Pfeil  und  Leier  zugleich  sandten  die  Himmlisclien  mir. 

3.  Lenz  und  Amor. 

Amors  Bruder  ist  Lenz :  er  wirbt  fur  den  trauten  Genosseu, 
Schnabelnd  im  Rosengebiisch  preist  er  sein  liebliches  Reich. 

Alle  wir  folgen  dem  Schalk  und  neigen  zum  Joche  den  Nacken, 
Selber  entbloszend  die  Brust  fiir  den  gefahrlichen  Pfeil. 


280  J.   T.    HATFIELD. 

Amors  Bruder  ist  Lenz.     O  Dreimalseliger,  welchera, 
Was  ihm  der  Eine  versprach,  treulich  der  Andere  gab  ! 

4.  Mars  und  Amor. 

Amor,  nimm  mir  den  Panzer,  den  lastigen,  nimm  ihn  herunter ! 

Hebe  den  driickenden  Helm  sanft  von  der  gliihenden  Stirn  ! 
Deine  Waffen  dafur,  die  leichten  gelenkigen  fodr'  ich  : 

Geh'  ich  mit  diesen  zum  Kampf,  spiele  mit  meinen  indesz ! 

5.  Apollo  als  Schdfer. 

Eine  Gemme. 

Sent,  mit  dem  Schafergewand  vertauschte  den  goldenen  Mantel 
Phobus  Apollo  und  spielt  Lieder  der  Liebe  auf  Bohr. 

Mach  tiger  Amor,  so  machst  du  unsterblicheGotter  zu  Menschen 
Und  zu  den  Gottern  empor  hebst  du  die  Kinder  des  Staubs. 

6.  Grass  des  Winters. 

Alles  erbebt  und  erbleicht  vor  dem  greisigen  Erdentyrannen, 

Wann  ihm  mit  Jubelgeschrei  tanzen  die  Stiirme  voran : 
Aber  ich  heisz'  ihn  willkommen,  ich  will  ihn  mit  Liedern 

empfangen, 

Dasz  er  wohl  selber  erstaunt  iiber  den  seltenen  Grusz. 
Bringe  Amanden  den  Dank  fur  meine  Geschenke  :  sie  hat  dir 

Tief  mit  Rosen  der  Stirn  dunkele  Furchen  verhiillt, 
Hat  man  den  Lippen  herab  dir  die  haszliche  Blaue  gestreichelt, 

Hat  dir  in's  Auge  geblickt  und  es  ihr  Lacheln  gelehrt. 
Jugendlichbliihender  Greis,  dich  gleich   ich  dem   Tejischen 

Sanger, 
Wann  er  vom  Becher  verjiingt  schwebt  in  der  Grazien 

Chor. 
Ni turner  wohl  ruf  ich  den  Lenz  mit  schmeichelnder  Leier 

zuriicke : 
Wenig  bedarf  ich  des  Mais,  duftet  der  Winter  mir  so ! 


THE    EARLIEST   POEMS   OF   WILHELM    MULLER.         281 


7.  Auf  einen  Sternseher. 

Warum  Mavius  immer  den  Blick  zu  dem  Himmel  emporhebt? 
Weil  er's  auf  Erden  nicht  wagt  Einera  in's  Auge  zu  sehn. 


8.  Auf  den  Dichter  Krispin. 

Schlecht  sind  jene  Gedichte,  weil  du  sie  geschrieben,  Krispin  us, 
Aber  du  selber  bist  schlecht,  weil  du  Gedichte  gemacht. 


9.  Auf  Densdben. 

Selber  verfertigte  sich  Krispin  die  prahlende  Grabschrift : 
Suchet  ihr  Schlummer,  so  geht  nur  zu  dem  Schlummernden 
bin! 

10.  Auf  Denselben. 

Passend  hast  du  dein  Buch  Erholungsstunden  betitelt : 
Also  haben  wir  stets  starkenden  Schlummer  genannt. 

11.  Auf  Denselben. 

Willst  du  Unsterblichkeit  in  Duodez  erringen, 
So  hore  meinen  Rath,  ich  stehe  fur's  Gelingen  : 
Auf  jedes  Epigramm,  das  du  geschrieben  hast, 
Sei  von  dir  selber  gleich  ein  Spottgedicht  verfaszt. 

12.  Auf  Denselben. 

Staune  uicht  iiber  den  Bauch  Krispins:  von  seinen  Gedichten 
Musz  er  sich  uahren  und  hoch  blaht  ihn  die  Wassersucht  auf. 


13.  Auf  Denselben. 

Liebchen,  merke  diesz  Haus !  Krispin,  der  Dichter  bewohnt  es : 
Schlage  die  Augen  nicht  auf,  willst  du  besungen  nicht  seyn  ! 


282  J.   T.    HATFIELD. 

14.  Auf  Denselben. 

Deine  Tragodie  hat  die  hiesige  Biihne  betreten  : 

Ach,  zum  Kothschuh  dient  nun  uns  der  hohe  Kothurn. 

15.  Auf  Denselben. 

Wundern  musz  ich  mich  selbst,  dasz  diese  Gedichte  nicht 

schmutzig : 
An  Krispinen  ja  doch  rieben  und  reiben  sie  sich. 

16.  Auf  Denselben. 

Hiille  die  goldenen  Locken  in  Asche  dir,  Phobus  Apollo  ! 

Mnsen  und  Grazien,  ziebt  Trauerge wander  euch  an  ! 
Weine,    du    silberner    Strudes    [sic]    des    Helikon,    blutige 
Thranen ! 

Ach,  Krispinus,  er  hat  wieder  Gedichte  gemacht ! 

17.  Auf  Denselben. 

Mogen  die  Musen,  Krispin,  und  Phobus  Apollo  dir  lacheln  ! 

Mogen  zu  Tinte  noch  heut  werden  die  Fliisse  und  Seen  ! 
Mogen  die  Grazien  dir  die  Aehren  des  Feldes  in  Federn 

Und  in  weiszes  Papier  wandeln  die  Makulatur ! 

18.  Auf  Denselben. 

Ueber  die  heutigen  Tage  schimpft  wie  ein  Matrose  Krispinus: 
O  des  Thoren  !  ihm  bliiht  jetzo  die  goldene  Zeit. 

The  most  interesting  light  which  this  material  sheds  upon 
Miiller's  personality  is  that  which  has  to  do  with  his  attitude 
toward  the  patriotic  poetry  of  the  War  of  Liberation.  The 
lack  of  any  echo  of  this  war  or  its  spirit  in  any  of  Miiller's 
earlier  poems  has  been  repeatedly  pointed  out.  These  newly- 
published  productions  put  him  definitely  into  the  number  of 
the  singers  of  this  epoch,  side  by  side  with  Arndt  and  Korner 


THE   EARLIEST   POEMS   OF   WILHELM   MULLER.          283 

and  Schenkendorf,  whom  he  even  surpasses  in  the  vehemence 
of  his  expression.  It  need  not  surprise  us  that  Miiller  has 
omitted  all  of  this  class  of  poems  from  his  published  works. 
The  familiar  themes  had  been  sufficiently  developed  and 
repeated  by  others. 

Our  young  poet  is  manifestly  trying  his  hand  upon  various 
modes  of  expression  without  having  as  yet  developed  his  own 
distinctive  vein.  As  regards  the  initial  "  Morgenlied  am  Tage 
der  ersten  Schlacht,"  one  might  repeat  Goethe's  criticism  of 
"  Das  heisse  Afrika "  in  the  Wunderhorn :  "  Spukt  doch 
eigentlich  nur  der  Halberstadter  Grenadier,"  for  we  have 
simply  Father  Gleim,  dressed  in  the  uniform  of  a  Gardejager 
of  the  War  of  Liberation. 

Much  in  evidence  is  also  the  "  Bardismus"  of  the  eighteenth 
century,  which  was  happily  discarded  by  the  maturer  Muller. 
So  also  the  romantic  vocabulary  and  motives  of  the  medieval 
court  and  heroic  poetry.  The  Yolkslied,  which  so  admirably 
refreshed  and  strengthened  Miiller's  later  work,  shows  abundant 
traces  of  both  general  and  specific  influence. 

The  five  "  Romanzen "  give  us  our  first  view  of  Miiller's 
attempts  in  the  field  of  popular  poetry.  Our  strongest  im- 
pression is  that  with  a  vague  feeling  for  his  ideal,  Muller  is 
still  (as  was  the  case  with  Uhland  in  his  earlier  ballads)  under 
the  ban  of  an  unwholesome,  overwrought  romanticism.  The 
influence  of  popular  metrical  forms  is  plainly  manifest  in  the 
"  Romanzen "  as  well  as  in  other  poems  of  the  collection. 
Der  Verbannte  is  practically  in  the  Lenore-strophe.  Der 
Hitter  und  die  Dime  in  its  form,  its  extravagant  over-coloring 
and  its  unsavory  motive,  is  a  close  and  unsuccessful  imitation 
of  Burger.  Classicism  is  represented  by  the  elegiac  epigrams, 
by  the  dithyramb  and  the  Anacreontics.  The  eighth  stanza  of 
the  Morgenlied  closes  with  the  line  "Und  will  entfesselt  seyn" 
which  Muller  later  used  in  an  entirely  different  connection  at 
the  end  of  the  eleventh  stanza  of  Der  Glockenguss  zu  Breslau. 

The  eighteen  epigrams  show  a  close  relation  to  Goethe  and 
Schiller,  and  are  (with  but  one  exception)  in  classical  elegiac 
9 


284  J.    T.    HATFIELD. 

verse,  a  mode  which  Miiller  did  not  retain  in  his  numerous 
published  epigrams.  The  latter  (published  1827)  are  entirely 
in  the  German  form  of  Logau,  whom  Miiller  edited  for 
Brockhaus  in  1824.  The  seventh  epigram  in  our  collection 
helps  to  make  clear  an  obscure  allusion  in  a  later  one 
(Gedichte,  ii,  153),  which  reads: 

Bav  und  Mav. 

Bav  oder  Mav — 
Es  schiittle  sich  wen's  traf. 
Zeichne  sie  zum  Kennen — 
Brauchst  sie  nicht  zu  nennen. 

This  has  been  variously  explained,  though  an  epigram  by 
Meissner  in  Voss's  Musenalmanach  for  1778  (p.  198)  offers 

the  real  clue : 

Bav. 

Nach  Swift. 

Bav  wollte  dichten,  schlug  an  seinen  Kopf, 
Und  rief:  O  Wiz,  komm  doch  herausl 
Er  pochte  lang  umsonst,  der  arme  Tropf ! 
Er  pochte  an  ein  ledig  Haus. 

"  Bav,"  as  a  wretched  poet,  is  of  course  taken  from  Vergil, 
Ed.,  3,  90 : 

Qui  Bavium  non  odit,  amet  tua  carmina,  Maevi 

and  the  "  Mav "  is  a  humorous  assimilation  of  "  Maevius." 
The  seventh  epigram  in  the  Bundesblilthen  contains  the  name 
Maevius  used  contemptuously,  and  confirms  this  explanation. 
This  is  the  only  epigram  of  the  collection  which  Miiller  pre- 
served, and  he  did  it  over  into  the  German  rhymed  form. 
As  the  epigram  was  not  directed  against  a  poet  but  against  a 
hypocrite,  the  name  was  changed  (Gedichte,  ii,  185) : 

Frommer  Aufblick. 

Wisst  ihr,  warum  Pius'  Blicke  stets  gen  Himmel  sich  ergehn  ? 
Weil  er  es  nicht  wagt  auf  Erden  einem  ins  Gesicht  zu  sehn. 


THE   EARLIEST   POEMS   OF   WILHELM    MULLEB.          285 

The  personal,  biographical  element,  always  present  in  lyric 
poetry,  can  be  discovered  in  these  frank  effusions.  The 
intensity  of  Die  zerbrochene  Zither  is  too  elemental  to  be  alto- 
gether imaginary,  and,  with  its  numerous  photographic  touches 
of  the  times,  is  a  curious  mixture  of  the  medieval  romance 
and  the  motives  of  the  Prussian  campaign.  The  elegy  upon 
Bornemann's  death  is  also  highly  personal.  The  allusion  in 
the  fourth  stanza  from  the  end  remains  a  complete  riddle. 

The  prevailing  note,  in  marked  distinction  from  the  later 
work  of  the  poet,  is  pensiveness  and  overwrought  pathos. 
The  development  of  a  sense  of  humor  worked  wholesomely 
in  the  case  of  Miiller,  as  it  had  also  done  with  Uhland. 

JAMES  TAFT  HATFIELD. 


VIII.— ON  TRANSLATING  ANGLO-SAXON   POETRY. 

What  verse  to  use  in  translating  Anglo-Saxon  poetry  is 
a  question,  which,  ever  since  Anglo-Saxon  poetry  has  been 
thought  worth  translating,  has  been  discussed  over  and  over 
again,  but  unfortunately  with  as  yet  no  final  conclusion.  The 
tendency,  however,  both  among  those  who  have  written  upon 
the  subject  and  those  who  have  tried  their  hand  at  translat- 
ing, is  decidedly  in  favor  of  a  more  or  less  close  imitation 
of  the  ojTginal  melr^.  Professor  F.  B.  Gum  mere,  in  an 
article  on  "The  Translation  of  Beowulf  and  the  Relations  of 
Ancient  and  Modern  English  Verse,"  published  in  the  Ameri- 
can Journal  of  Philology,  Vol.  vn  (1886),  strongly  advocates 
imitating  the  A.-S.  metre.  Professor  J.  M.  Garnett,  in  a 
paper  read  before  this  Association  in  1890,1  sides  with  him, 
recanting  a  previously  held  belief  in  the  superiority  of  blank 
verse.  Of  the  various  translations  which  imitate  the  A.-S. 
metre,  the  most  successful,  undoubtedly,  is  the  Beowulf  of  Dr. 
John  Leslie  Hall,  which  appeared  in  1892.  Stopford  Brooke, 
in  his  History  of  Early  English  Literature,  also  declares  his 
belief  in  imitations  of  the  original  metre,  though  in  his  trans- 
lations he  does  not  always  carry  out  his  beliefs.  He  lays 
down  the  rule — and  a  very  good  rule  it  is — that  translations 
of  poetry  "should  always  endeavour  to  have  the  musical 
movement  of  poetry,  and  to  obey  the  laws  of  the  verse  they 
translate."2  For  translating  A.-S.  poetry,  blank  verse,  he 
thinks,  is  out  of  the  question;  "it  fails  in  the  elasticity  which 
a  translation  of  Anglo-Saxon  poetry  requires,  and  in  itself  is 
too  stately,  even  in  its  feminine  dramatic  forms,  to  represent 
the  cantering  movement  of  Old  English  verse.  Moreover,  it 
is  weighted  with  the  sound  of  Shakspere,  Milton,  or  Tennyson, 

1  See  Publications  of  the  Mod.  Lang.  Association  of  America,  Vol.  vi,  Nos.  3 
and  4,  p.  95  f. 

8  Cf.  Preface  to  E.  E.  Lit. 
286 


ON   TRANSLATING   ANGLO-SAXON   POETRY.  287 

and  this  association  takes  the  reader  away  from  the  atmosphere 
of  Early  English  poetry."1 

The  claims  of  blank  verse,  however,  have  recently  been 
set  forth  afresh.  A  writer  in  Modern  Language  Notes  for 
March,  1897,  Mr.  P.  H.  Frye, .  characterizes  the  measures 
used  by  Garnett,  Hall,  and  Stopford  Brooke  in  their  transla- 
tions as  "  un-English  "  and  as  "  violations  of  *  *  *  the  first 
principles  of  translation."  He  lays  down  the  rule  that  "  the 
translation  and  the  original  should  produce,  each  upon  those  to 
whom  it  addresses  itself,  essentially  the  same  impression"2 — a 
rule,  like  that  of  Stopford  Brooke's  mentioned  above,  heartily 
to  be  commended.  The  use  which  Mr.  Frye  makes  of  his 
rule,  however,  does,  not  deserve  quite  the  same  commendation. 
Having  carefully  laid  down  his  general  proposition,  he  pro- 
ceeds to  argue  from  it  in  a  way,  to  say  the  least,  rather  loose. 
The  translation,  he  says,  ought  to  give  "  essentially  the  same 
impression  "  as  the  original.  Beowulf,  now,  is  an  epic ;  "  our 
natural  epic  expression "  in  English  is  blank  verse ;  there- 
fore blank  verse  is  the  natural  measure  to  use  in  translating 
Beowulf. 

This  seems  a  very  pretty  piece  of  reasoning  on  the  face  of 
it,  but  unfortunately  it  will  not  stand  the  test  of  examination. 
If  we  look  a  little  more  closely,  we  shall  find  lurking  under 
its  apparent  plausibility  what  ought  to  be  a  very  obvious 
fallacy.  This  fallacy  consists  in  the  assumption  that  one 
so-called  "  epic  expression  "  is  essentially  the  same  thing  as 
another ;  that,  for  instance,  the  "  heroic  suggestion "  of  the 
verse  in  Beowulf  is  essentially  the  same  thing  as  the  "  heroic 
suggestion  "  of  the  verse  in  Paradise  Lost.  Such  an  assump- 
tion needs,  of  course,  only  to  be  pointed  out  to  be  recognized 
as  not  necessarily  true ;  it  would  amount  to  pretty  much  the 
same  thing  as  saying  that  because  a  police  squad  set  to  guard 
property,  and  a  pocket  time-piece  may  both  be  called  a  "  watch," 
therefore  they  are  essentially  the  same  thing. 

1  Cf.  Preface  to  E.  E.  Lit. ;  cf.  also  notes  on  pp.  417  and  425. 
*Mod.  Lang.  Notes,  xn,  col.  162. 


288  EDWAED   FULTON. 

Poetry,  when  we  come  to  analyze  it,  is  found  to  have  in  it 
two  elements,  one  of  which  we  may  describe  as  the  purely 
intellectual  element — that  which  appeals  to  the  intellect  simply, 
the  other  as  the  aesthetic  or  emotional  element — that  which 
appeals  to  the  emotions  wholly.  In  translating  poetry  from 
one  language  to  another,  now,  it  is  always  possible  substan- 
tially to  reproduce  the  purely  intellectual  element,  that  is  to 
say,  the  bare,  bald  ideas ;  and  if  this  were  the  only,  or  even 
the  chief  thing  to  be  aimed  at,  simple,  unadorned  prose  would 
undoubtedly  be  the  medium  to  use.  But  as  everyone,  or 
nearly  everyone,  will  admit,  this  is  not  the  chief  thing  to  be 
aimed  at.  Since  in  nearly  every  case  it  is  the  aesthetic  or 
emotional  element  in  poetry  that  constitutes  for  us  its  chief 
value,  that  element  ought  to  be,  in  fact  must  be  reproduced, 
if  possible,  in  any  translation  that  pretends  to  give  us  an 
adequate  rendering  of  its  original.  As  to  the  possibility  of 
reproducing  this  aesthetic  element  with  anything  like  faith- 
fulness, we  all,  I  suppose,  have  our  doubts.  It  is  an  exceed- 
ingly difficult  thing  to  do ;  and  most  of  us  are  apt  to  be 
satisfied  with  an  approximate  reproduction. 

The  point  at  issue,  now,  is  how  to  secure  that  approxima- 
tion. In  the  case  of  the  Beowulf,  as  we  have  seen,  it  is  not 
to  be  secured  simply  by  taking  the  subject-matter  of  the  poem 
and  recasting  it  in  the  modern  heroic  mould  of  blank  verse. 
Blank  verse  is  undoubtedly  the  best  epic  verse  we  possess, 
but  as  Stopford  Brooke  says,  "  it  takes  the  reader  away  from 
the  atmosphere  of  early  English  poetry."-  There  are  in  the 
Paradise  Lost,  for  example,  passages  which  possess,  we  might 
fairly  enough  say,  an  air  of  "  simple  dignity  and  unruffled 
deliberation/'  to  use  Mr.  Frye's  characterization  of  the  style 
of  Beowulf;  but  no  one  in  reading  them,  I  fancy,  would  be 
in  the  least  likely  to  think  they  reminded  him  of  Beowulf. 
No  doubt  a  good  poet  might  produce  a  very  fine  poem  in  blank 
verse  out  of  the  story  of  the  Beowulf,  but  it  would  not  be 
Beowulf.  The  heroic  quality  of  such  a  Beowulf  would  be  of 
a  totally  different  kind  from  that  of  the  original.  Between 


ON    TRANSLATING    ANGLO-SAXON    POETRY.  289 

the  two  poems,  in  fact,  there  would  be  nothing  in  common 
but  the  story ;  and  this  would  no  more  make  them  the  same 
poem  than  the  fact  that  both  the  Venus  of  Melos  and  the     '» 
Venus  de  Medici  represent  the  same  goddess  makes  them     ». 
the  same  statue. 

That  "  the  translation  and  the  original  should  produce,  each  s 

upon  those  to  whom  it  directly  addresses  itself,  essentially  the 
same  impression,  is  true  enough.  But  the  question  at  once 
arises,  What  impression  did  the  original  make  upon  those  to 
whom  it  addressed  itself?  We  must  all  agree,  I  think,  that 
no  Englishman  of  the  present  day  in  reading  Beowulf  in  the 
original  can  have  the  same  feelings  and  emotions  as  his  A.-S. 
ancestor  would  have  had  ;  his  training,  habits  of  thought,  and 
ideas  are  too  widely  divergent  from  those  of  his  ancestor  to 
permit  that.  In  short,  we  do  not  now  know  how  the  Beowulf 
affected  the  Anglo-Saxon ;  all  that  we  can  do  is  to  imagine 
how  it  must  have  affected  him.  To  do  this,  we  must  first  of 
all  ask  ourselves  the  question,  How  does  it  affect  us?  And  if 
we  ask  ourselves  this  question,  we  shall  find  that  we  have  two 
things  to  consider,  first,  the  bare  ideas  or  matter  of  the  poem, 
and  second,  the  concrete  form  in  which  those  ideas  are  pre- 
sented, that  is  to  say,  the  peculiar  phrases,  turns  of  expression, 
rhythmical  movement,  etc. — all  of  which  may  be  summed  up 
under  the  general  term  "  manner."  Moreover,  we  shall  find 
that  the  manner  engages  our  attention  no  less  than  the  matter. 
And  it  is  inevitable  that  this  should  be  so,  for  it  is  the  manner, 
rather  than  the  matter,  that  constitutes  what  I  have  termed 
the  aesthetic  or  emotional  element  in  all  poetry — the  element 
which  is,  after  all,  of  most  importance  to  us,  just  as  it  is  the 
external  form  which  gives  beauty  to  a  statue,  not  the  marble 
of  which  the  statue  is  made.  Now,  a  translation  which  does  •"*** 
not  seek  to  reproduce  the  manner  as  well  as  the  matter  of  its  •**" 
original  cannot,  of  course,  give  anything  like  a  true  and 
adequate  idea  of  that  original.  Whatever  impression  it  may 
make  upon  those  who  read  it,  it  certainly  will  not  make 
essentially,  or  even  approximately,  the  same  impression  as  the 


290  EDWARD   FULTON. 

original  made,  either  on  those  to  whom  it  directly  addressed 
itself,  or  on  those  to  whom  it  may  now  direct  itself.  Faith- 
fulness in  one  respect  will  not  make  up  for  neglect  in  another. 
Truth  to  the  whole  demands  truth  to  the  parts.  You  can  no 
more  be  faithful  to  the  Beowulf  in.  translating  it  into  English 
verse,  if  you  neglect  its  style  and  rhythm,  than  you  can  be 
faithful  to  the  Venus  of  Melos,  in  making  a  copy  of  it,  if  you 
neglect  the  pose  of  the  head  and  the  expression  of  the  face. 

It  follows,  therefore,  that  if  we  wish  to  place  before  modern 
readers  anything  like  a  true  representation  of  the  Beowulf,  we 
must  try  to  reproduce  its  jmagery  and  its  rhythmical  move- 
ment. To  the  objection  urgecPagainst  imitating  the  A.-S. 
metre  in  English,  that  it  is  a  violation  of  the  laws  of  the 
language,  we  need  only  reply  that  the  analogy  between  trans- 
lating the  thought  and  reproducing  the  movement  of  the  verse 
does  not  hold  completely.  In  the  former  case,  the  translator 
must,  of  course,  conform  to  the  laws  of  the  language  from  the 
necessity  of  being  understood ;  but  in  the  latter  case,  he  is 
under  no  such  obligation,  the  only  law  binding  upon  him  here 
being  the  law  of  harmony,  and  this  is  a  law  governing  verse, 
not  in  one  language  only,  but  in  all  languages.  The  asser- 
tion, moreover,  that  four-accent  measures  resembling  the  A.-S. 
line  are  un-English  needs  some  qualification.  They  are  not 
so  very  un-English  after  all.  Schipper,  in  his  Grundriss  der 
Englischen  Metrik,  has  conclusively  shown  that  many  of  the 
English  four-accent  measures  may  be  traced  directly  back  to 
the  A.-S.  line.  For  example,  lines  like  the  following  in  what 
he  calls  "  der  vier-taktige  jambisch-anapaestische  vers  :  " — 

"And  he  saw  the  lean  dogs  beneath  the  wall 
Hold  o'er  the  dead  their  carnival, 
Gorging  and  growling  o'er  carcase  and  limb ; 
They  were  too  busy  to  bark  at  him." — 

The  Siege  of  Corinth. 

"When  the  hounds  of  Spring  are  on  Winter's  traces, 
The  mother  of  months  in  meadow  or  plain 
Fills  the  shadows  and  windy  places 
With  lisp  of  leaves  and  ripple  of  rain." — 

Chorus  in  Atalanta  in  Calydon. 


ON   TRANSLATING   ANGLO-SAXON   POETRY.  291 

Some  of  these  lines,  now,  represent  almost  exactly  the  move- 
ment of  the  most  common  types  of  A.-S.  verse,  alliteration, 
caesura,  and  all.  Compare,  for  instance,  with  Swinburne's 
lines  the  following  from  the  Phoenix  : 

•  "  N is  >ser  on  J>am  londe  laftgeniftla, 
Ne  wop  ne  wracu,  weatacen  nan, 
Yldu  ne  yrm'Su,  ne  se  enga  dea"S, 
Ne  lifes  lyre,  ne  lafles  cyme, 
Ne  synn  ne  sacu,  ne  sarwracu, 
Ne  wsedle  gewin,  ne  welan  onsyn." 

The  general  movement  of  the  verse  here  is  not  very  greatly 
different  from  that  in  Swinburne's  lines.  Swinburne's  jlines, 
to  be  sure,  are  a  little  more  rapid  than  the  A.-S.,  and  also 
a  little  more  melodious;  but  then  Swinburne  is  a  master  of 
melody — a  much  greater  master  of  melody  than  the  unknown 
A.-S.  poet.  If  it  be  objected  that  this  is  not  a  typical  passage, 
that  it  does  not  represent  the  general  movement  of  A.-S.  verse, 
it  may  be  replied,  that  neither  does  Swinburne's  lines  represent 
the  general  movement  of  English  four-accent  measures.  For 
other,  and  less  common  types  of  A.-S.  lines — lines  where  two 
stressed  syllables  come  together,  and  also  lines  where  more 
than  two  un-stressed  syllables  come  together — it  is  easy  to  find 
parallels  in  modern  English  verse.  Compare,  for  instance,  the 
following  parallels : — 

/     /  /       / 

"  in  J>set  treow  innan  torhte  fraetwe," — 

PA.  200; 

"  That  in  trim  gardens  takes  Lis  pleasure," — 

//  Penseroso. 

II  II 

"  to  his  wicstowe,  her  he  wundrum  fsest," — 

PA.  468; 

/      /  /  / 

"  In  a  bedchamber  by  a  taper's  blink," — 

The  Statue  and  the  Bust. 
I       I  \  II 

"  ofett  edniwe  in  ealle  tld ,"— 

PA.  77; 

I  I    \  II 

"Holding  one  picture  and  only  one," — 

The  Statue  and  the  Bust. 


\ 


292  EDWARD   FULTON. 

In  short,  if  we  except  such  lines  in  A.-S.  poetry  as  are 
made  up  of  combinations  like  "  DB,"  "  DC,"  "  DE,"  etc., 
to  use  Sievers'  terminology — lines  which  number  not  more 
than  10  in  100 — and  also  such  lines  as  have  three  or  more 
unstressed  syllables  coming  together,  which  number  about  15 
in  100,  we  have  left  about  75  lines  in  100  with  rhythmical 
movements  for  which  exact  parallels  in  plenty  may  be  found 
in  modern  English  verse — an  odd  state  of  affairs  if  the  A.-S. 
line  is  essentially  different  from  the  English,  irregular,  four- 
accent  line.  I  do  not,  of  course,  wish  to  be  understood  for 
a  moment  as  saying  that  the  rhythmical  movement  of  A.-S. 
poetry  in  general  is  represented  by  any  one  modern  English 
poem.  That  would  not  be  true.  All  I  wish  to  point  out  is 
that  the  great  majority  of  separate  lines  in  A.-S.  poetry  may 
be  paralleled  by  separate  lines  in  modern  English  verse,  tak- 
ing into  account  disposition  of  accent,  caesura,  alliteration, 
and  everything. 

^Prom  all  this  it  would  follow,  now,  that  if  any  particular 
form  of  modern  English  verse  were  to  be  selected  as  a  fitting 
medium  in  which  to  translate  A.-S.  poetry,  on  the  score  of 
likeness  to  the  A.-S.  metre,  that  form  ought  to  be  the  irregular, 
four-accent  line,  that  is  to  say,  the  four-accent  line  with  an 
iambic-anapestic,  varied  occasionally  by  a  trochaic-dactylic 
movement.  This  is  the  only  English  measure  that  can  pre- 
tend to  offer  the  same  variety  of  rhythm  that  the  A.-S.  verse 
has,  and  the  only  one  that  can,  and  often  actually  does  have 
precisely  the  same  rhythmical  movement  as  the  A.-S.  line. 
Its  affinities  with  the  A.-S.  line,  indeed,  as  Schipper  has 
pointed  out,  are  strong ;  and  what  is  of  particular  importance 
with  regard  to  the  matter  in  hand,  it  is  capable  of  modifica- 
tion so  as  to  resemble  that  line  still  more  strongly.  And  this, 
I  think,  gives  us  the  cue  to  the  solution  of  our  problem. 
What  we  want,  and  there  seems  to  be  no  reason  why  we 
should  not  get  it,  is  an  adaptation  of  the  English,  irregular, 
four-accent  measure  sufficiently  like  the  A.-S.  line  to  suggest 
it  at  once  and  inevitably,  yet  not  so  unlike  the  English  line 
as  to  sound  strange  to  the  modern  ear. 


ON   TRANSLATING   ANGLO-SAXON    POETRY.  293 

Dr.  John  Leslie  Hall,  in  his  admirable  translation  of  the 
Beowulf,  has  come  the  nearest,  I  think,  to  attaining  this 
adaptation  of  any  who  have  made  the  attempt,  but  his  trans- 
lation, nevertheless,  leaves  much  to  be  desired.  I  have  myself 
made  a  translation  of  the  Wanderer  in  an  attempt  to  find  a 
measure  which  shall  satisfy  the  conditions  just  mentioned, 
and  I  subjoin  my  translation  to  this  paper.  Whether  I  have 
succeeded  in  my  attempt  or  not,  others,  of  course,  must  judge. 
I  have  only  to  say  that  I  do  not  profess  to  be  a  poet.  What 
I  have  done  has  simply  been  to  give  the  ideas  of  the  original 
as  faithfully  as  I  could  and  at  the  same  time  as  nearly  in  the 
manner  of  the  original  as  seemed  likely  to  be  agreeable  to 
modern  readers. 

THE  WANDERER. 

The  lone  one  oft  wins  his  reward  at  last, 

The  grace  of  God,  though  grief-stricken, 

Long  must  he  wander  the  water-ways  o'er, 

Ruffle  with  rowing  the  rime-cold  sea, 

Fare  as  an  outcast.     Fate  is  relentless  ! 

Speaks  now  the  wand'rer  of  his  sorrows  mindful, 

The  fearful  slaughter  and  the  fall  of  his  kinsmen : 

"Oft  must  I  lonely  in  the  early  dawn 

Utter  my  sorrows ;  all  are  gone  now 

To  whom  I  should  dare  my  heart-thoughts  reveal 

Frankly  and  truly.     Of  a  truth  I  know 

That  for  an  earl  'tis  ever  a  wise  way 

To  keep  secure  the  keys  of  his  heart, 

To  hide  his  thoughts,  let  him  think  what  he  may. 

A  weary  soul  withstands  fate  ill, 

And  a  heavy  heart  little  help  e'er  affords. 

Sad  hearts,  therefore,  do  seekers  of  glory 

Oft  bear  in  their  breast,  bound  up  closely. 

My  inmost  thoughts  must  I,  likewise — 

Oh  unhappy  me,  from  home  exiled, 

And  far  from  my  kinsmen  ! — lock  fast  in  my  breast, 


294  EDWARD    FULTON. 

Since  the  day  long  gone  when  the  giver  of  gold 

Was  wrapped  in  earth's  darkness,  and  wretched  thence 

I  have  wandered  in  winters  the  water-ways  o'er, 

And  heart-weary  sought  the  hall  of  some  lord, 

Be  it  far  or  near,  to  find  if  I  might 

One  who  in  mead-hall  mercy  would  show  me, 

Or  would  to  me  friendless  some  favor  extend, 

Welcome  me  gladly.    Well  knows  he  who  tries  it 

How  grim  a  companion  is  grief  to  the  wand'rer 

Who  has  nowhere  to  go  and  none  to  protect  him. 

His  the  outlaw's  path,  not  the  prize  of  wound  gold, 

A  freezing  heart,  not  the  fame  of  the  world. 

He  recalls  his  old  friends,  the  favors  received, 

And  how  in  his  youth  the  gold-giver  dear 

At  the  feast  gave  him  welcome.    But  fled  are  those  joys ! 

Alas !  he  knows  it  who  from  lord  and  friend 

For  a  long  time  has  lacked  loved  words  of  counsel, 

When  sorrow  and  sleep,  stealing  together, 

Oft  wrap  in  their  mantle  the  wretched  lone  one. 

In  his  dream  it  seems  that  he  sees  his  lord, 

Gives  him  kiss  and  embrace,  then  bends  to  his  knee 

With  head  placed  in  hands,  as  whilom  he  did 

W'hen  his  lord  of  yore  the  gift-stool  enjoyed. 

Then  awakes  he  again  a  wanderer  friendless, 

And  before  him  sees  but  the  fallow  waves, 

The  sea-birds  bathing  and  spreading  their  wings, 

Or  the  falling  snow  mixed  with  frost  and  hail. 

The  heavier  then  his  heart-wounds  seem, 

Sore  for  his  loved  one :  his  sorrows  return. 

Then  o'er  his  mind  flits  memory  of  his  kinsmen ; 

With  glee-songs  he  greets  them,  and  glad  looks  he  round 

On  all  his  old  friends ;  but  their  forms  soon  vanish ; 

The  shadowy  spirits  sing  there  none  of 

The  well-known  songs.    Sorrow  unending 

Is  the  lot  of  him  who,  alas !  must  often 

O'er  the  water-ways  bear  a  weary  heart. 


ON   TRANSLATING   ANGLO-SAXON    POETRY.  295 

'Tis  therefore  a  wonder  in  the  world  to  me 
That  my  soul  is  not  o'er-shrouded  with  gloom, 
When  I  long  reflect  on  the  lives  of  earls, 
How  in  an  instant  their  halls  they  lost, 
Those  haughty  warriors !    But  the  world  itself 
Is  drawing  now  each  day  to  its  ruin. 
A  man  is  not  wise,  then,  till  many  a  winter 
He  has  lived  in  this  world.    The  wise  man  is  patient, 
Neither  hot-hearted,  nor  hasty  of  speech, 
Nor  recreant  in  battle,  nor  rash  and  unheeding, 
Nor  o'erfearful,  nor  glad,  nor  greedy  of  riches, 
Nor  yet  eager  in  boasting  ere  he's  earned  him  the  right. 
A  brave  man  should  pause,  ere  he  boast  utters, 
Till,  firm-minded,  he  fairly  may  know 
Whether  his  courage  will  waver  at  last. 
The  wise  man  must  see  how  woeful  it  is 
When  the  wealth  of  the  world  lies  wasted  in  ruin, 
As  far  and  wide  now  this  fair  earth  o'er 
Wind-beaten  stand  the  walls  of  the  burghs, 
And  in  ruins  the  dwellings,  decked  o'er  with  rime. 
Crumbling  are  the  wine-halls,  and  the  warriors  lie 
Shorn  of  their  pleasure ;  scattered  the  retainers 
Once  proud  on  the  wall :  war  has  seized  some, 
Led  them  forth  to  their  death ;  the  fleet  ship  one 
O'er  the  high  sea  has  borne ;  the  hoar  wolf  another 
Has  mangled  in  death ;  and  dolefully  one 
In  his  bed  of  earth  the  earl  has  hidden. 
The  Ruler  of  men  hath  so  ravaged  the  world 
That  mirth  is  heard  no  more  midst  the  burghers, 
And  silent  stand  the  cities,  giant-built. 
He  who  has  wisely  this  waste  observed, 
And  this  dark  life  here  deeply  considered, 
Sage  of  mind  oft  remembers  the  past, 
The  murderous  slaughter,  and  mourns  in  these  words : 
'  Where  is  the  steed  now?  the  warrior?  and  where  the  giver 
of  gifts? 


296  EDWARD    FULTON. 

Where  are  the  seats  at  the  feast,  and  the  sounds  of  mirth  in 

the  hall? 

Ah  me  !  the  bright  beaker  !  the  mailed  warrior  ! 
The  pride  of  the  earl !    How  that  age  has  fled, 
Into  night  vanished,  as  ne'er  it  had  been  ! 
Of  the  loved  heroes  the  last  reminder 
Is  the  wondrous  high  wall  with  worm-shapes  adorned. 
The  earls  have  fallen  by  the  ash-shaft's  might, 
That  weapon  so  fell — a  fate  most  glorious  ! 
Storm-beaten  now  are  the  stone-cliffs  high, 
And  fettered  the  earth  by  the  falling  snow, 
Winter's  terror,  when  wan  there  come 
Night-shadows  creeping,  and  the  North  sends  forth 
The  hail-storm  fierce  to  the  harm  of  men. 
In  the  realms  of  this  earth  all  is  hardship ; 
Fate  decrees  it  that  change  must  rule  all : 
Wealth  here  is  fleeting,  friendships  passing, 
Mortal  is  man  here,  and  mortal  is  kinsman : 
Earth's  whole  foundations  are  idle  become.' " 
So  quoth  the  sage  in  his  mind,  as  he  sat  him  apart  in  reflection. 
Good  is  he  who  keeps  troth;  never  hasty  the  warrior  should  be 
In  venting  the  rage  in  his  breast,  ere  the  remedy  first  he 

contrive, 

The  earl  with  courage  to  act.    Fortunate  each  who  seeks  mercy, 
Solace  from  God  in  Heaven,  where  safety  for  all  may  be  found. 

EDWARD  FULTON. 


PUBLICATIONS 

OF  THE 

MODERN  LANGUAGE  ASSOCIATION  OF  AMERICA, 

1898. 
VOL.  XIII,  3.  NEW  SERIES,  VOL.  VI,  3. 

IX.— THE  POETRY  OF  NICHOLAS  BRETON. 
I.    Breton's  Life. 

The  chief  source  of  information  concerning  Nicholas  Breton's 
early  life  is  the  will  of  his  father,  written  in  1557-8,  probated 
in  1558-9.  This  will,1  a  lengthy  document,  provides  liberally 
for  the  wife  and  the  five  children,  devises  generous  legacies  to 
a  number  of  household  servants,  remembers  various  hospitals, 
the  "  poorest  creatures  "  in  several  parishes,  "  poorest  Skoolers 
of  the  university  of  Cambrydge,"2  and  even  sets  apart  a  sum 
of  money  for  "  repayringe  the  hyghe  wayes  brydges  and  other 
most  needful  and  necessary  thinges."3  There  are  mentions  of 
"jewelles"  and  plate  and  valuable  furniture  and  clothes,  and 
the  whole  tone  of  the  will  indicates  that  its  maker  was  a  man 
who  had  wealth  and  was  accustomed  to  use  it  freely  and 
generously.  That  he  was  as  liberal  in  thought  as  in  money- 
matters,  that  he  had  due  regard  to  the  preferences  of  others, 
may  be  fairly  inferred  from  a  bequest  to  one  Henry  Knighte, 
"  so  that  he  continew  to  study  at  the  Lawe,  or  use  any  other 
honest  exercyse  of  Lyvinge." 4  That  the  wife  was  a  woman  of 

1  Printed  in  full  in  Grosart's  Works  in  Verse  and  Prose  of  Nicholas  Breton, 
Chertsey  Worthies'  Library;  "Memorial  Introduction,"  pp.  xii-xvii. 
*Ibid.,  p.  xvi.  3Ibid.,  p.  xvi.  4  Grosart's  Breton,  Introd.,  p.  xvi. 

297 


298  EVA   MARCH   TAPPAN. 

good  sense  and  discernment  is  clear  from  the  responsibilities 
thrown  upon  her  in  the  management  of  the  estate,  and  from 
the  fact  that  it  was  to  remain  in  her  hands  (provided  she  did 
not  "  happyn  to  mary  or  dy  ")  until  the  sons  were  twenty-two 
and  twenty-four  respectively.  If  the  daughters  married  with- 
out her  consent,  their  legacies  were  to  be  forfeited.1 

From  all  this  we  may  infer  that  Nicholas  Breton  entered 
life  endowed  at  least  with  a  goodly  heritage  of  practical 
ability  and  common  sense,  and  that  he  was  brought  up  "  in 
Lerning  and  vertue,"2  in  a  home  of  comfort  or  even  of  afflu- 
ence. From  the  provisions  for  the  older  brother  Richard's 
"  mayntenance  fynding  and  bringing  upp,"  and  from  the  fact 
that  in  1557-8  he  was  too  young  to  wear  "my  gylte  Skayne 
my  Corselett  and  my  prevy  cote7'3  of  the  father's  will,  Grosart 
argues4  that  he  was  not  more  than  fifteen;  and  that,  as  Nicho- 
las was  to  come  of  age  at  twenty-four  and  the  older  brother 
at  twenty-two,  there  was  perhaps  a  difference  of  two  years  in 
their  respective  ages.  That  would  assign  the  birth  of  Richard 
to  1542-3,  and  that  of  Nicholas  to  1544-5.5 

Some  time  previous  to  1568,  the  widow  married  the  poet 
Gascoigne.  Legal  action  was  of  course  taken  in  regard  to  the 
interest  of  the  Breton  children  in  their  father's  property,  but 
I  find  no  ground  on  which  to  base  any  theory  of  the  necessity 
for  a  "  restoration  of  good  feeling,"  as  Grosart  puts  it,6  between 
Gascoigne  and  any  of  the  family;  while  there  is  reason  for 
arguing  an  especially  pleasant  companionship  between  the  two 
poets.7 

Nicholas  Breton  took  no  university  degree,  and  the  proba- 
bility of  his  ever  having  been  a  student  at  Oxford  rests  on  the 
following  somewhat  slender  evidence  : — 

1  "And  that  than  my  foresaid  legacies  and  bequests  above  made  to  such  of 
my  said  daughters  as  shall  so  marry  w*out  tassent  of  my  saied  wife  shalbe 
utterlye  voyde  and  of  none  effecte."  Grosart's  Breton,  Introd.,  p.  xv. 

8  Ibid.,  p.  xvii.          */&td.,  p.  xvi.          4Grosart's  Breton,  Introd.,  p.  xix. 

6  Not  1542-3,  as  Grosart  puts  it  (Grosart's  Breton,  Introd.,  p.  xix),  by 
either  mistake  or  misprint. 

6  Ibid.,  p.  xx.  7  See  p.  321. 


THE   POETRY   OF   NICHOLAS   BRETON.  299 

1 .  He  dedicated  his  Pilgrimage  to  Paradise  to  "the  Gentle- 
men Students  and  Scholars  at  Oxford." 

2.  The  introduction  to  one  of  his  poems !  refers  to  the  author  as 
"a  yong  Gentleman,  who  ....  had  spent  some  years  at  Oxford." 

3.  The  diary  of  Rev.  Richard  Madox2  records  a  meeting 
in  1582,  apparently  at  Antwerp,  with  "Mr.  Brytten,  once 
of  Oriel  Colledge,  wch  made  wyts  will."    That  the  register  of 
Oriel  College  shows  no  trace  of  his  name  is,  unfortunately, 
a  fact  of  no  value  from  any  point  of  view.     His  references 
to  college  life,  though  not  especially  frequent,  are  easy  and 
natural.3    Grosart  says4  that  his  writings  show  "a  notable 
absence  of  classical  quotation  and  allusion."    To  this  I  can 
only  say  that  Breton  is  in  no  respect  an  extremist,  and  that, 
though  he  rarely  introduces  a  set  quotation  from  the  classics, 
yet  in  his  mythological  allusions,  and  especially  in  his  occa- 
sional use  of  Latin  words,  he  manifests  an  everyday  familiarity 
far  removed  from  the  almost  superstitious  reverence  of  the 
ignorant  man  for  a  dead  language. 

The  only  evidence  that  we  have  of  his  possible  marriage  is 
the  entry  in  the  register  of  St.  Giles,  Cripplegate,  London  (his 
family  parish),  of  a  marriage  between  one  Nicholas  Brytten 
and  Ann  Sutton.  This  is  given  by  Grosart,5  as  are  also  other 
entries  referring  to  the  birth  of  four  children  to  Nicholas 
Brytten  (Brittaine  and  Britten).  From  Brinsley  Nicholson's 
MS.  notes  to  Grosart's  Bretonf  it  seems  possible  that  in  the 
unique  copy  of  Old  Madcap's  New  Gallimawfry  in  the  inac- 
cessible library  at  Britwell  there  may  be  evidence  of  value  on 
this  question.  Breton's  writings  were  published  between  1577 
and  1626.  No  record  of  his  death  has  been  found,  but  it  may 
be  supposed  to  have  taken  place  soon  after  the  latter  date. 

1  Toys  of  an  Me  Head,  p.  50/1.  *Sloane  MS.  5008,  British  Museum. 

3  Grimello's  Fortunes,  p.  6/1 ;  An  Old  Man's  Lesson,  p.  12/1,  13/1 ;  Strange 
News  out  of  Divers  Countries,  p.  11/1 ;  Fantastics,  p.  15/1 ;  A  Post  with  a  Packet 
of  Mad  Letters,  second  series,  letter  16. 

*  Grosart's  Breton,  Introd.,  p.  xx.  'Grosart's  Breton,  Introd.,  p.  xxi. 

6  In  the  library  of  the  University  of  Pennsylvania. 


300  EVA   MARCH   TAPPAN. 


II.    Outline  of  Breton's  Literary  Activity. 

Breton's  life  extended  over  an  eventful  period.  Two  relig- 
ious revolutions,  the  burning  of  bishops  and  archbishops,  the 
execution  of  Lady  Jane  Grey  and  of  Mary,  Queen  of  Scots, 
discoveries  of  marvelous  countries,  voyages  that  read  like  the 
Arabian  Nights,  the  miracle  of  the  annihilation  of  the  Spanish 
Armada — and  in  the  very  midst  of  it  all  sat  Nicholas  Breton, 
quietly  writing  religious  poetry  !  To  the  literary  movements 
of  his  day  he  was  most  susceptible,  though  his  response  was 
rarely  instantaneous ;  but  bare  public  events  produced  appar- 
ently no  effect  upon  his  mind.  His  first  work  after  the  defeat 
of  the  Armada  (1588)  was  a  pastoral  (1591);  Elizabeth  died 
(1603),  and  he  wrote  A  Packet  of  Mad  Letters  (1603);  all 
England  was  shaken  by  the  gunpowder  plot  (1605),  and  he 
wrote  The  Soul's  Immortal  Crown  (1605). 

Of  his  score  of  poetical  booklets,  nearly  half  are  religious ; 
one  is  chiefly  vers  de  societe;  but  one  of  his  pastorals  is  of  any 
length ;  and  his  writing  of  satire  hardly  went  beyond  a  single 
year.  Strictly  speaking,  then,  Breton  was  a  religious  poet  who 
made  literary  departures  into  vers  de  societe,  pastoral  and  satire. 
His  vers  de  societe  was  but  the  trying  of  his  "  'prentice  hand," 
and  has  little  significance  in  his  poetical  career  as  a  whole. 
His  pastoral  was  the  natural  result  of  the  decade  during  which 
the  pastoral  influence  was  supreme;  and  his  satire  followed 
almost  inevitably  upon  that  of  Marston  and  Hall.  The  study 
of  his  literary  life,  looked  at  through  a  perspective  of  three 
hundred  years,  falls  naturally,  and  in  some  respects  chrono- 
logically, under  the  headings  : — 

I.  Previous  criticisms. 

II.  Religious  poetry. 

III.  Vers  de  socie'te'. 

IV.  Pastoral. 
V.  Satire. 

VI.    The  man  as  shown  in  his  work. 


THE    POETRY   OF   NICHOLAS   BRETON.  301 


III.    Chronological  Criticism  of  Breton's  Work. 

Twelve  years  after  the  publication  of  Breton's  first  work, 
I  find  the  earliest  reference  to  him  that  is  in  any  degree 
critical  in  Puttenham's  Arte  of  English  Poesie  (1589),  which 
says,  "And  in  her  Majesty's  time  that  now  is  are  sprung  up 
another  crew  of  courtly  makers,  noblemen,  and  gentlemen  of 
her  Majesty's  own  servants,  who  have  written  excellently 
well."  Among  them  "Britton"  is  named. 

Two  years  later  another  pamphlet  appeared  describing  "The 
Honourable  Entertainment  gieven  to  the  Queenes  Majestic  in 
Progresse  at  Elvetham  in  Hampshire  by  the  R.  H.  the  Earle 
of  Hertford."  *  Here,  under  "  The  thirde  daies  entertainment," 
is  the  note,  "On  Wednesday  morning  about  9  o'clock  as  her 
Majestic  opened  a  casement  of  her  gallerie  window,  ther  were 
three  excellent  musitians,  who  being  disguised  in  auncient 
country  attire  did  greete  her  with  a  pleasant  song  of  Corydon 
and  Phillida,  made  in  three  parts  of  purpose.  The  song,  as 
well  for  the  worth  of  the  dittie,  as  the  aptnesse  of  the  note 
thereto  applied,  it  pleased  her  Highnesse  after  it  had  been 
once  sung  to  command  it  againe,  and  highly  to  grace  it  with 
her  cheerfull  acceptance  and  commendation." 

In  1598  Francis  Meres  in  Palladia  Tamia  names  Breton 
among  those  who  are  "  most  passionate  among  us  to  bewail 
and  bemoan  the  perplexities  of  love." 

John  Bodenham  in  Belvedere  (1600),  mentions  Breton  as 
among  those  known  "  from  divers  essays  of  their  poetry." 

Prefaced  to  Melancholike  Humours  (1600),  are  the  following 
lines  by  Ben  Jonson  : — 

"Thou  that  wouldst  finde  the  habit  of  true  passion, 
And  see  a  minde  attir'd  in  perfect  straines ; 
Not  wearing  moodes,  as  gallants  doe  a  fashion, 
In  these  pide  times,  only  to  shewe  their  braines. 

1  Nichols's  Progresses  of  Queen  Elizabeth. 


302  EVA    MARCH   TAPPAN. 

Looke  here  on  Breton's  Worke,  the  master  print : 
Where  such  perfections  to  the  life  doe  rise ; 
If  they  seem  wry,  to  such  as  looke  asquint, 
The  fault's  not  in  the  object  but  their  eyes. 

For,  as  one  comming  with  a  laterall  viewe 
Unto  a  cunning  piece  wrought  perspective, 
Wants  facultie  to  make  a  censure  true ; 
So  with  this  author's  readers  will  it  thrive : 

Which,  being  eyed  directly,  I  divine 

His  proofe  their  praise,  will  meet,  as  in  this  line." 

John  Hynd's  Eliosto  Libidinoso  (1606),  inserts  a  poem  as 
"a  fancy  which  that  learned  author  Nicholas  Breton  hath 
dignified  with  respect." 

In  Dekker's  Guls  Horn  Book  (1609),  is  the  sentence,  "I  am 
Pasquils  Mad- Cap  that  will  doot." 

After  1609,  allusions  to  Breton  are  not  infrequent  in  the 
dramatic  literature  of  the  time,  especially  in  Beaumont  and 
Fletcher's  plays ;  e.  g., 

(1 )  "Do  you  read  Madcap  still ? " 

The  Coxcomb,  iv,  4  (1610). 

(2)  "  Did  I  for  this 
Consume  my  quarters  in  meditations,  vows, 
And  woo'd  her  in  Heroical  Epistles  ? 

Did  I  expound  The  Owl, 

And  undertook  with  labor  and  expense 

The  re-collection  of  those  thousand  pieces, 

Consum'd  in  cellars  and  tobacco-shops, 

Of  that  our  honor'd  Englishman,  Nich.  Breton?" 

The  Scornful  Lady,  n,  1  (Between  1609  and  1616). 

(3)  "And  your  Pasquil 

Went  not  below  the  Mad-Caps  of  that  time." 

The  Nice  Valour,  v,  2  (1613) 

(4)  "  Who  look'd  on  you, 

But  piping  kites  that  knew  you  would  be  prizes, 
And  'prentices  in  Paul's  Churchyard  that  scented 
Your  want  of  Breton's  books?" 

Wit  without  Money,  in,  4  (1614). 


THE    POETRY    OF    NICHOLAS    BRETON.  303 

Ben  Jonson  in  his  Execration  upon  Vulcan  (printed  1640, 
written  probably  between  1621  and  1625)  writes: — 

*'  Had  I  foreknown  of  this,  thy  least  desire 
To  have  held  triumph  or  a  feast  of  fire, 

.  many  a  ream 
To  redeem  mine  I  had  sent  in — 

With  Nicholas'  Patquils 

Meddle  with  your  match, 

And  the  strong  lines  that  do  the  times  so  catch." 

Sir  John  Suckling,  whose  critical  acumen  deserves  respect, 
joins  Breton's  name  with  Shakespeare's  in  The  Goblins,  IV,  1 
(1638):— 

"The  last  a  well- writ  piece,  I  assure  you, 
A  Breton  I  take  it,  and  Shakespeare's  very  way." 

Breton  is  mentioned  in  Richard  Brome's  A  Jovial  Grew,  n, 
1  (acted  1641)  :— 

"And  then  fall  into  courtship,  one  in  a  set  speech  taken  out 
of  old  Britain's  Works,  another  in  verses  out  of  the  Academy 
of  Compliments,  or  some  other  of  the  new  Poetical  Pamph- 
leteers, ambitious  only  to  spoil  paper  and  publish  their  names 
in  print."  This  epithet  "  old  "  was  almost  a  term  of  endear- 
ment in  an  age  in  which  life  moved  so  fast  that  the  work  of 
yesterday  was  old,  and  the  remembrance  of  it  until  to-day 
was  fame. 

In  Edward  Phillips's  Theatrum  Poetarum  (1675)  is  written: 
— "Nicholas  Breton,  a  writer  of  pastorals,  sonnets,  canzons 
and  madrigals,  in  which  kind  of  writing  he  keeps  company 
with  several  other  contemporary  aemulators  of  Spenser  and 
Sir  Philip  Sidney,  in  a  publist  collection  of  selected  odes  of 
the  chief  pastoral  sonnetteers,  &c.,  of  that  age." 

These  are  the  principal  references  to  Breton  that  I  have 
found  in  the  century  following  the  appearance  of  his  first 
work,  if  we  except  Nash's  stinging  allusion  to  the  author  of 
the  Bower  of  Delights 1  in  his  preface  to  Astrophel  and  Stella} 

'A  work  by  no  means  certainly  Breton's. 


304  EVA    MARCH   TAPPAN. 

1591,  as  "  Pan  sitting  in  his  bower  of  delights  and  a  number 
of  Midases  to  admire  his  miserable  horn-pipes."  What  do 
these  criticisms  sum  up  ?  He  is  said  by  Puttenham  to  have 
written  "  excellently  well ; "  one  of  his  poems  has  attracted 
the  favorable  attention  of  the  queen  ;  by  Meres  he  is  named  as 
one  of  the  best  lyric  and  erotic  poets ;  Bodenham  and  Dekker 
mention  him  ;  Hynd  calls  him  "  that  learned  author ;"  several 
dramatists  refer  to  him  in  their  plays ;  Ben  Jonson  writes  some 
flattering  verses,  which  do  not,  however,  ring  quite  so  true  as 
do  his  lines  on  Shakespeare,  and  are  of  less  value  than  his 
chance  mention  of  Pasquil ;  Suckling  compares  him  to  Shake- 
speare ;  Phillips  calls  him  one  of  the  emulators  of  Spenser  and 
Sidney.  Regarded  as  literary  criticism,  all  this  is  of  small 
value  in  determining  Breton's  place  among  his  contemporaries ; 
but  regarded  as  the  unofficial  expression  of  an  age  that  enjoyed 
what  it  liked,  forgot  what  it  did  not  like,  and  did  little  analyz- 
ing in  either  case,  the  good-natured  familiarity  and  the  very 
briefness  of  these  mentions,  especially  in  the  dramas,  say  much 
for  his  popularity  and  appreciation  among  a  people  whose 
literary  instinct  was  for  the  best.  Saintsbury  says1  that 
Breton  "pamphleted  with  such  copiousness  and  persistence 
for  nearly  half  a  century,  that  it  is  clear  there  must  have  been 
money  to  be  made  by  the  practice."2  But  when  in  the  same 
paragraph  he  speaks  of  the  "  mild  mediocrity  "  of  Breton,  he 
forgets  that  "  mild  mediocrity  "  is  not  the  stuff  that  popularity 
was  made  of  in  the  Elizabethan  days. 

For  the  next  hundred  years  Breton  seems  to  have  been 
completely  forgotten,  if  we  except  the  one  ballad  printed  in 
The  Muses'  Library  by  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Cooper  in  1737. 
This  same  ballad,  Phiilida  and  Corydon,  together  with  the 
Shepherd's  Address  to  His  Muse,  appeared  in  Percy's  Reliques 
in  1765;  and  from  that  time  Breton  has  seldom  been  left 
out  of  poetical  collections  or  entirely  forgotten  by  poetical 
criticism. 

lElizabethan  and  Jacobean  Pamphlets,  Introd.,  p.  xvii  f. 
2  Breton,  however,  did  not  really  need  to  write  for  bread. 


THE   POETRY   OP    NICHOLAS    BRETON.  305 

Warton's  History  of  English  Poetry1  (1774)  mentions  him 
as  "  one  of  the  most  prolific  penmen  of  his  time,"  speaks  of 
his  Mad-Cap  as  having  considerable  merit,  and  deems  the 
literary  controversy  between  Breton,  Marston,  and  the  poet- 
aster Weever  (?)  worthy  of  a  full  account. 

Sir  S.  Egerton  Brydges  reprinted  several  of  Breton's  works 
at  his  famous  Lee  Priory  Press,2  and  from  1800  on  he  let  no 
opportunity  pass  to  express  his  admiration  for  Breton.  In 
his  edition  of  Theatrum  Poetarum  (1800),  he  says:3 — "The 
ballad  of  Phillida  and  Corydon  is  a  delicious  little  poem ;  and 
if  we  are  to  judge  from  this  specimen,  his  poetical  powers 
(for  surely  he  had  the  powers  of  a  poet)  were  distinguished 
by  a  simplicity  at  once  easy  and  elegant."  In  the  Censura 
Liter  aria*  (1805-1809)  he  speaks  of  "that  prolific  writer, 
Nicholas  Breton,  who  supplied  the  press  with  a  rich  diversity 
of  ingenious  compositions  for  more  than  forty  years."  In  his 
edition  of  England's  Helicon  (1810-1814),  he  says:5— "By 
far  the  first  of  these  (poems)  are  the  compositions  of  Dr. 
Thomas  Lodge  and  Nicholas  Breton.  That  the  genius  of 
both  these  writers  was  not  only  elegant  and  highly  polished, 
but  pure  and  unsophisticated  ....  may  be  safely  affirmed.  .  .  . 
As  to  Breton,6  if  he  possessed  less  sentiment  than  Lodge,  per- 
haps his  fancy  was  still  more  delicate  and  playful,  and  his 
expression  no  less  simple  and  harmonious."  In  his  Restituta1 
(1814-1816),  he  praises  "the  ingenuity,  fertility,  fluency, 
metrical  ease,  and  moral  force  of  Breton's  commendable  pen;" 
and  again  he  says8  that  Breton's  "copiousness  of  natural  senti- 
ment, and  ease  and  elegance  of  language  are  so  eminent  and  so 
well  adapted  to  popularity  that  the  oblivion  which  has  covered 
him  is  a  matter  of  constant  surprise  to  me." 

1  Section  6.  2  See  Lowndes's  Bibliographer's  Manual. 

3  Page  321.  *  Vol.  n,  p.  183,  second  edition,  1815. 

6  British  Bibliographer,  vol.  in,  Introd.  to  England's  Helicon,  p.  iv,  third 
edition. 

*Ibid.,  p.  vii.  T,Vol.  in,  p.  174,  second  edition,  1815. 

8  Ibid.,  p.  16. 


306  EVA    MARCH   TAPPAN. 

Drake  says1  (1817)  :  "The  chief  Contibutors  (to  England's 
Helicon)  were  among  the  best  lyric  poets  of  their  age.  Amid 
this  galaxy  of  bards  we  cannot  fail  to  distinguish  for  their 
decided  superiority  the  productions  of  Breton,  Greene,  Lodge, 
Marlowe,  Raleigh,  which  might  confer  celebrity  on  any  selec- 
tion." Drake  places  Breton  as  one  of  the  "  leaders  of  a 
great  portion  of  their  art  during  a  period  of  half  a  century." 
Although  he  names  him  as  a  lyric  poet,  he  does  not  mention 
him  in  particular  as  a  satirist  or  as  a  writer  of  pastorals. 

Thomas  Campbell's  Essay  on  English  Poetry  (1819),  says 
of  Breton  : — "  His  happiest  vein  is  in  little  pastoral  pieces.  . .  . 
The  lyrical  poetry  of  Elizabeth's  age  runs  often  into  pastoral 
insipidity  and  fantastic  carelessness,  though  there  may  be  found 
in  some  of  the  pieces  of  Sir  Philip  Sidney,  Lodge,  Marlowe, 
and  Breton,  not  only  a  sweet,  wild  spirit,  but  an  exquisite 
finish  of  expression." 

Alexander  Dyce2  (1831)  makes  casual  mention  of  Breton  as 
"  a  man  of  no  ordinary  genius,  writing  in  his  more  inspired 
moments  with  tenderness  and  delicacy." 

Taking  a  general  view  of  the  references  to  Breton  during 
the  seventy  years  that  followed  Percy's  reprinting  of  Phillida 
and  Corydon  with  the  accompanying  account  of  its  place  in  the 
Elvetham  festivities,  we  see  that  he  is  neither  forgotten  nor 
does  he  receive  the  honor  of  critical  study.  He  is  spoken 
of  less  familiarly  and  more  respectfully,  but  still  in  the  way  of 
casual  mention.  Percy,  Warton,  Brydges,  Drake,  Campbell, 
Dyce,  speak  of  him,  sometimes  with  almost  Elizabethan  appre- 
ciation, but  rarely  with  even  a  touch  of  modern  criticism. 

The  first  criticism  in  any  degree  comprehensive  which  he 
seems  to  have  received  is  that  of  Thomas  Corser3  (1860) : — 
"  Nicholas  Breton,  a  writer  of  elegant  and  refined  taste.  .  .  . 
While  some  of  his  poetical  pieces  display  the  deepest  and  most 
fervent  feelings  of  the  devout  and  pious  mind,  breathing  forth 

1 Shakespeare  and  his  Times,  vol.  J,  p.  721  f. 
8  Introduction  to  the  Works  of  Robert  Greene. 
^Collectanea  Anglo- Poelica,  vol.  II,  Part  1. 


THE   POETRY   OF    NICHOLAS    BRETON.  307 

its  aspirations  to  the  Almighty,  one  while  in  strains  of  warm 
and  rapturous  praise,  and  another  in  most  profound  and  humble 
penitence  of  soul ;  and  while  some  of  his  productions  are  filled 
with  the  richest  humor,  blended  with  the  purest  fancy  and 
clothed  in  chaste  and  delicate  language,  there  are  others  evinc- 
ing a  coarse  and  vulgar  style  and  tone  of  expression  almost 
leading  the  reader  to  doubt  whether  such  varied  writings  could 
all  be  the  productions  of  the  same  pen.  (This  charge  of  a 
"  coarse  and  vulgar  style  "  is  due  to  a  mistaken  ascription  to 
Breton  of  Pasquil's  Nightcap,  now  known  to  be  the  work  of 
one  "William  F."1).  .  .  .  Breton's  serious  prose  is  warm  and 
impassioned,  pure  and  pleasing,  and  his  poetical  works  are 
written  in  a  graceful  and  refined  spirit,  and  in  simple,  artless 
language,  which  makes  its  way  irresistibly  to  the  heart.  Many 
of  his  smaller  lyrical  pieces  are  full  of  tenderness  and  beauty 
and  are  remarkable  for  their  genuine  poetry  and  exquisite 
taste  and  simplicity."  This  bears  the  mark  of  that  real  study 
of  Breton's  work  as  a  whole  which  I  have  failed  to  recognize 
in  previous  criticisms. 

It  is  only  within  the  last  decade  that  Breton  seems  on  the 
way  to  win  back  again  some  small  share  of  the  popularity 
that  was  his  three  hundred  years  ago ;  only  then  appreciation 
was  instinctive  and  made  its  way  from  the  people  to  the 
critics,  while  now  it  is  through  the  appreciation  of  the  critics 
that  it  must  make  its  way  to  the  people.  Not  that  all  these 
later  criticisms  are  just.  Often  do  they  bear  the  marks  of  a 
most  limited  and  superficial  reading  of  the  author.  Generali- 
zations that  would  apply  to  some  one  division  of  his  poems 
are  frequently  grossly  unfair  when  applied  to  all  the  works 
of  so  versatile  a  writer. 

Grosart2  (1879)  praises  him  for  his  rich,  pure  English,  his 
originality  in  an  imitative  period,  his  melody,  brightness, 
sweetness,  purity, — indeed,  for  most  of  the  good  qualities  that 

Stationers'  Register  for  6  April,  1619. 

8  Grosart's  Breton,  "  Memorial  Introduction,"  passim. 


308  EVA    MARCH   TAPPAN. 

a  poet  of  his  class  could  possess — and  claims  for  him  an 
especially  high  rank  as  a  religious  poet. 

Saintsbury  (1887) l  treats  Breton,  "the  industrious  man  of 
all  work,"  as  he  calls  him,  with  a  superciliousness  that  arouses 
instinctive  rebellion  against  the  occasional  justice  of  his  stric- 
tures. He  says : 2 — "  His  best  certain  thing  is  the  pretty 
Phillida  and  Corydon  idyll  ....  but  I  own  that  I  can  never 
read  this  latter  without  thinking  of  two  lines  of  Fulke  Gre- 
ville's  in  the  same  metre  and  on  not  very  different  theme — 

'  O'er  enamelled  meads  they  went, 
Quiet  she,  he  passion  rent,' 

which  are  simply  worth  all  the  works  of  Breton's  prose  and 
verse,  unless  we  count  the  Lullaby,  put  together.  .  .  .  His 
work  ....  is  ....  very  interesting  to  the  literary  student, 
because  it  shows  better  perhaps  than  anything  else  the  style 
of  literature  which  a  man  disdaining  to  condescend  to  bur- 
lesque or  bawdry,  not  gifted  with  any  extraordinary  talent 
....  but  possessed  of  a  certain  literary  faculty,  could  then 
produce  with  a  fair  chance  of  being  published  and  bought. 
It  cannot  be  said  that  the  result  shows  great  daintiness  in 
Breton's  public.  The  verse  with  an  improvement  in  sweet- 
ness and  fluency,  is  very  much  in  the  doggerel  style  which 
was  prevalent  before  Spenser ;  and  the  prose,  though  showing 
considerable  faculty,  if  not  of  invention,  yet  of  adroit  imita- 
tion of  previously  invented  styles,  is  devoid  of  distinction 
and  point.  .  .  .  The  pervading  characteristics  are  Breton's 
invariable  modesty,  his  pious  and,  if  I  may  be  permitted  to 
use  the  word,  gentlemanly  spirit,  and  a  fashion  of  writing 
which,  if  not  very  pointed,  picturesque  or  epigrammatic,  is 
clear,  easy,  and  on  the  whole  rather  superior  in  observance  of 
the  laws  of  grammar  and  arrangement  to  the  work  of  men 
of  much  greater  note  in  his  day."  Later,3  he  even  refuses  to 
admit  in  any  wise  Breton's  title  to  the  name  of  poet. 

1  Elizabethan  Literature,  Ch.  iv,  p.  128,  edition  of  1891. 

9  Ibid.,  Ch.  vi,  p.  239  f. 

^Elizabethan  and  Jacobean  Pamphlets,  Introd.,  p.  xvii,  1892. 


THE   POETRY   OF   NICHOLAS    BRETON.  309 

Bullen  reads  him  with  far  more  sympathy,  and  admits, 
perhaps  a  little  shamefacedly,  that  he  "  found  interesting " 
even  Breton's  one  novel,  The  Miseries  of  Mavillia,  with  its 
unfortunate  ending.  Bullen  says  : T — "  Breton  wrote  always 
in  great  haste,  and  never  indulged  in  the  luxury  of  revision. 
He  frequently  allows  his  rhymes  to  carry  him  along  and  lets 
the  sense  shift  for  itself.  We  may  not  be  quite  sure  at  times 
in  reading  the  Passionate  Shepherd  that  the  grammatical  con- 
structions are  nicely  adjusted,  and  fastidious  critics  may  com- 
plain that  the  writing  is  too  diffuse,  but  the  poet  is  in  his 
gayest  humor ;  we  are  charmed  by  the  easy  flow  of  his  verse, 
and  should  be  churls  if  we  were  not  warmed  by  his  enthusi- 
asm. .  .  .  Though  I  have  some  liking  for  Breton's  devotional 
poems,  I  can  hardly  allow  that  they  are  of  the  first  quality. 
.  .  .  Both  Davies  and  Breton  could  spin  off  any  quantity 
of  devotional  verse  (respectable  verse,  too,)  when  the  feeling 
seized  them,  but  their  fluency  was  very  tiresome.  .  .  .  As  a 
satirist  Breton  had  little  of  the  saeva  indignatio,  real  or 
assumed,  of  Marston  or  Hall.  .  .  .  There  was  nothing  ill- 
natured  or  acrimonious  about  Breton.  ...  It  is  only  in  his 
moral  and  didactic  writings  that  Breton  is  ever  tedious.  His 
prose,  which  is  always  quaint  and  neatly  turned,  is  valuable 
for  the  bright,  cheerful  pictures  that  it  gives  of  Elizabethan 
society,  and  his  lyrical  poetry  at  its  best  is  very  good  indeed." 

Gosse's  estimate  of  Breton 2  is  that  he  was  an  "  Elizabethan 
primitive  who  went  on  publishing  fresh  volumes  until  after 
the  death  of  James  I,  but  without  having  modified  the  sixteenth 
century  character  of  his  style.  .  .  .  Breton  had  the  root  of 
poetry  in  him,  but  he  was  no  scholar,3  inartistic  and  absolutely 
devoid  of  the  gift  of  self-criticism." 

There  is  sensitive  appreciation  of  Breton  in  a  note  to  Eliza- 
bethan Lyrics?  unfortunately  much  too  brief,  which  speaks  of 

lLyricsfrom  Elizabethan  Romances,  Introd.,  p.  xx,  1890. 
*  Jacobean  Poets,  Ch.  I,  p.  15  f.,  1894. 
3Alas  for  poor  John  Hynd  of  1606  !     See  page  302. 
*Page  226;  by  Felix  E.  Schelling,  1895. 


310  EVA   MAECH   TAPPAN. 

him  as  "  writing  incessantly  and  unequally  verse,  prose,  it 
mattered  little  what ;  frequently  in  debt  and  trouble ;  facile, 
ready,  ever  fertile.  ...  There  is  a  naturalness,  an  easy  flow 
and  gaiety,  a  tenderness  and  purity  about  Breton  that  ought 
to  restore  him  to  fame." 

These  collected  criticisms  will  show  that  there  is  plenty  of 
room  for  a  thoughtful,  scholarly,  conscientious,  and  compre- 
hensive estimate  of  Breton  that  shall  avoid  flippancy,  blind 
enthusiasm,  and  sweeping  generalization.1 

IV.    Breton's  Religious  Poetry. 

The  highest  religious  poetry,  though  universal  in  its  appli- 
cation, must  (1)  embody  a  real,  or  seemingly  real,  individual 
experience,  and  must  (2)  manifest  no  consciousness  of  the 
audience.  Many  of  our  modern  hymns  show  to  the  initiated 
marks  of  having  been  written  not  from  individual  experience, 
but  with  a  conscious  purpose,  either  to  accord  with  the  ideas 
of  some  one  sect  or  to  intensify  some  one  partisan  doctrine. 
The  sense  of  religious  solidarity  is  lost,  in  that  these  hymns 
are  only  too  plainly  addressed  to  an  audience  that  is  either 
limited  or  unsympathetic.  They  have  become,  to  use  Mill's 
distinction,2  eloquence  rather  than  poetry.  The  feeling  of 
individuality  was  intensified  in  the  sixteenth  century  by  "  the 
fresh  vigor  given  by  the  doctrines  of  the  Reformation  to 
the  sense  of  personal  responsibility  and  immediate  relation 
to  God."3  The  feeling  of  unconsciousness  suffered  to  some 
extent  from  the  tendency  to  didacticism  aroused  by  three 

1  The  death  of  Henry  Morley  has  lost  us  the  criticism  of  Breton  that  he 
had  promised  (in  vol.  x,  p.  493)  for  the  eleventh  volume  of  his  English 
Writers.  W.  Hall  Griffin,  who  completed  the  work,  barely  mentions  Breton 
as  "  one  of  the  most  prolific  writers  of  the  day,"  and  says  that  his  verse 
"  often  has  the  ring  of  a  true  poet." 

The  appendix  to  English  Writers,  vol.  xi,  gives  a  valuable  bibliography 
of  Breton. 

*Poetry  and  its  Varieties,  by  J.  S.  Mill. 

3  George  Mac  Donald's  England' s  Antiphon,  Chapter  v. 


THE   POETRY   OF   NICHOLAS   BRETON. 


311 


religious  revolutions  within  twenty-five  years,  and  by  the 
knowledge  that  a  man  might  be  called  on  to  seal  his  words 
with  his  blood,.  To  the  end  of  the  century  and  far  into  the 
next,  the  mood  of  the  hymnist  was  somewhat  cautiously 
meditative,  only  in  rarest  instances  was  it  spontaneous  and 
cheerful. 

In  some  of  Breton's  religious  poems,  the  individuality,  the 
personal  tone,  is  so  strong  as  to  convince  Grosart  of  their 
autobiographical  character.  On  the  other  hand,  his  allusions  to 
current  events  are  few  and  indirect;  of  his  family  he  makes  no 
mention  whatever ;  there  is  no  proof  that  he  either  sinned  or 
suffered  more  than  the  average  man,  as  one  might  infer  from 
the  tone  of  some  of  the  hymns,  and,  in  the  lack  of  external 
evidence,  I  see  no  ground  for  the  belief  that  he  has  shown  as 
much  of  self-revelation  as  of  poetic  insight.  Of  the  spirit  of 
consciousness  he  has  less  than  many  of  the  hymnists  of  his 
day.  He  takes  a  conventional  view  of  most  matters,  and  he 
can  hardly  be  said  to  take  any  view  of  questions  of  theological 
controversy.  His  creed  consists  of  three  articles, — 1.  Wrong 
is  punished ;  2.  Right  is  rewarded ;  3.  Repentance  wins  for- 
giveness. He  writes  frankly  and  naturally,  neither  with 
politic  repression  of  his  belief,  nor  with  expectation  of  encoun- 
tering opposition,  nor  with  the  elation  of  a  man  who  finds 
himself  on  the  winning  side. 

The  possibility  that  he  was  a  Roman  Catholic  is  hardly 
worth  mentioning,  for  the  idea  seems  to  have  been  suggested 
merely  by  a  careless  ascription  to  him  of  Mary  Magdalen's 
Love,  a  poem  utterly  unlike  his  work.  Both  Grosart1  and 
Brinsley  Nicholson  2  have  collected  a  number  of  proofs  from 
Breton's  own  words  of  his  approving  familiarity  with  the 
ritual  of  the  English  Church.  A  still  stronger  proof  of  his 
protestantism  is  the  un-Romish  familiarity  which  he,  as  well 
as  Gascoigne,  shows  with  the  English  Bible,  not  only  with  its 
narrative  portions  and  by  way  of  direct  quotation,  but  that 

1  Grosart' s  Breton,  Introd.,  p.  xxix. 

2  Notes  and  Queries,  5th  series,  vol.  I,  pp.  501-2. 


312  EVA    MARCH   TAPPAN. 

closer  familiarity  which  manifests  itself  in  easy  allusion  and 
in  unconscious  adoption  of  phraseology ;  e.  g., 

"  Height,  depth,  length,  breadth  are  in  thy  love  declared." l 
"Some  in  their  chariots,  some  in  horses  trust."2 
"  Help  to  build  up  the  walls  of  Jerusalem."  3 

Grosart  does  Breton  another  bit  of  justice  in  printing  in 
parallel  columns  passages  from  the  Countess  of  Pembroke's 
Passion  and  from  Watson's  Tears  of  Fancy.4  This  compari- 
son seems  to  me  to  prove  not  only  Grosart's  charge,  that 
Watson  was  the  borrower,  but  also  that  he  was  unnecessarily 
superficial  in  his  appropriations  ;  e.  g.,  Breton  writes  :  6 — 

"The  hunted  hart  sometimes  doth  leave  the  hound; 
My  heart,  alas,  is  never  out  of  chase." 

This  becomes  under  Watson's  treatment  a  mere  alliterative 
memory.  He  writes  : 6 

"The  hunted  hare  sometimes  doth  leave  the  hound, 
My  heart,  alas,  is  never  out  of  chase." 

He  quite  overlooks  the  play  on  "hart"  and  "heart;"  in 
short,  he  borrows  a  pun  without  leave,  and  then  loses  it !  In 
Tears  of  Fancy7  Watson  uses  Breton's  peculiar  expression, 
"  Woe  begone  me,"  which  I  have  noticed  in  no  other  author.8 

1  Countess  of  Pembroke's  Love,  23/1,  1.  37;  cf.  Ephesians,  in.  18:— "To 
comprehend  with  all  saints  what  is  the  breadth,  and  length,  and  depth, 
and  height,"  etc. 

*Ibid  ,  27/2, 1.  51 :  cf.  Psalms,  xx.  7 : — "  Some  trust  in  chariots,  and  some 
in  horses." 

3  Dedication  of  Pilgrimage  to  Paradise;  cf.  Psalms,  LI.  18: — "Build  thou 
the  walls  of  Jerusalem." 

4Grosart's  Breton,  Introd.,  p.  Ixxi. 

6  Countess  of  Pembroke's  Passion,  stanza  1 3. 

9  Tears  of  Fancy,  sonnet  57.  7  Sonnet  38. 

8 With  one  exception,  the  song  beginning,  "Sweet  Love,  if  thou  wilt 
gain  a  monarch's  glory,"  which  ends,  "Alas!  poor  Love,  then  thou  art 
woe-begone  thee,"  in  John  Wilbye's  Madrigals,  1598. 


THE   POETRY    OP    NICHOLAS   BRETON.  313 

With  such  obligations  to  Breton,  Watson's  lines,1 

"If. poets  have  done  well  in  times  long  past 
To  glose  on  trifling  toys  of  little  price," 

become  doubly  ungracious,  if  they  refer  to  Breton's  Toys  of 
an  Idle  Head.'2' 

Breton's  earliest  religious  poem,  The  Pilgrimage  to  Para- 
dise? is  an  attempt  at  allegory,  and  as  a  whole  hardly  a 
successful  attempt.  It  shows  signs  of  the  influence  of  the 
Faery  Queen,4  but  has  even  less  of  reality.  Spenser's  "  gentle 
knight"  has  at  least  a  dinted  shield,  but  Breton's  pilgrim 
discomfits  the  seven  heads  of  Satan  by  seven  elaborate  dis- 
courses, carefully  adjusted,  one  to  each.  The  earlier  part  of 
the  poem  is  more  impersonal  than  a  morality.  The  charac- 
ters, if  they  may  be  so  called,  are  mere  puppets  of  the  most 
transparently  artificial  construction,  and  it  is  often  difficult  to 
determine  which  one  is  speaking.  In  the  latter  part,  how- 
ever, no  one  can  fail  to  see  sweetness  and  strength.  In  his 
sympathetic  description  of  the 

"  Fisherman  all  in  his  boat  alone 
With  every  billow  tossed  from  side  to  side,"5 

there  is  pictorial  talent,  and  his  telling  of  the  whole  little  story 
makes  one  regret  that  his  writing  of  narrative  was  so  nearly 
limited  to  his  prose.  As  his  religious  writings  continue,  there 
is  less  of  allegory,  and  much  less  of  that  indefinable  air  of 
writing  for  an  audience.  Sometimes  the  inspiration  fails ; 
occasionally  he  is  a  little  labored ;  his  metaphor,  rich  and 
fervid  as  it  is,  seldom  rises  to  the  highly  impassioned ;  yet, 
through  it  all,  is  the  irresistible  charm  of  sweetness,  tender- 
ness, inexhaustible  freshness,  musical  rhythm  and  easy  flow 
of  language ;  and  even  though  his  religious  poems  are,  as  a 
whole,  hardly  more  cheerful  or  animated  than  those  of  his 
contemporaries,  yet,  with  his  earnest  sincerity  and  his  un- 
swerving faith,  they  can  hardly  be  dreary  reading.  He  is 

^Ekatompathia,  poem  17 ;  published  1582. 

8 1577.  3 1592.  « 1590.  5 15/2,  1.  32. 

2 


314  EVA    MARCH   TAPPAN. 

never  discouraged,  never  misanthropic.  His  hopeful,  sunny 
nature  gleams  through  the  slight  melancholy  that  was  regarded 
as  the  proper  atmosphere  to  surround  a  religious  poem.  He 
often  cries  out  of  the  depths,  but  he  never  loses  a  cheerful 
confidence  in  the  result  of  his  supplication.  Gascoigne's 
theological  pessimism  would  have  been  as  incomprehensible 
to  him  as  the  ecstasies  of  Southwell.  At  the  thought  of  death 
Southwell  gazes  with  rapturous  longing  into  the  heaven  that 
opens  before  him ;  Gascoigne,  with  his  overflowing  vitality, 
flinches  and  fears;  Breton  leisurely  sentimentalizes.  Breton 
knows  nothing  of  the  rhapsodies  of  the  mystic,  nothing  of  the 
spiritual  conflicts  of  Saint  Augustine,  nothing  of  the  higher 
selfishness  of  Thomas  a  Kempis ;  but  he  is  a  simple,  true- 
hearted,  conscientious  man,  who  means  to  do  his  best,  and  is 
sincerely  sorry  when  he  fails. 

The  verbal  style  of  his  religious  writings  presents  little  that 
is  especially  characteristic,  or  different  from  that  of  other  writers 
of  his  time.  He  shows  the  delight  in  words  that  was  common 
to  all  Elizabethans,  the  consciousness  that  they  were  real  things 
and  not  abstractions,  that  they  had  a  substantial  existence  of 
their  own.  With  this  in  mind,  I  can  never  feel  that  their 
plays  on  words,  their  puns,  repetitions,  turns,  and  twists  are 
in  any  way  a  blemish.  They  are  rather  a  proof  of  the  Eliza- 
bethan appreciation  of  a  form  of  life  so  intangible  and  subtle 
that  we,  unhappily,  have  lost  their  delicate  sensitiveness  to  its 
existence.  Even  Southwell,  with  all  his  intensity  of  spirit 
and  in  full  view  of  the  martyrdom  for  which  he  yearned,  did 
not  count  it  idle  play  when  he  wrote  : — 

"  Who  lives  in  love,  loves  least  to  live, 

And  long  delays  doth  rue, 
If  Him  he  love  by  whom  he  lives, 
To  whom  all  love  is  due."  l 

Breton  is  always  fond  of  this  by-play,  but  diffuse  as  he  is,  he 
rarely  lets  the  sound  supersede  the  sense ;  the  word  may  play 
but  it  must  do  his  work,  must  add  to  his  thought ;  e.  g., 

lLif<?8  Death,  LOVJS  Life. 


THE   POETRY   OF   NICHOLAS   BRETON.  315 

"  Before  there  was  a  light,  there  was  a  light 
Which  saw  the  world  the  world  could  never  see."  l 

He  revels  in  a  kind  of  concatenate  verse ;  e.  g., 

"Thou  leadest  the  eye  unto  his  heart's  delight, 

Thou  leadest  the  heart  unto  his  soul's  desire, 
Thou  leadest  the  soul  unto  the  living  light, 

Which  shows  the  heavens  where  hope  can  go  no  higher."  8 

This  is  especially  common  in  some  of  his  prose  works,  and  it 
appears  on  a  broader  scale  in  The  Soul's  Immortal  Crown,  in 
which  the  description  of  each  virtue  leads  up  to  that  of 
the  next. 

The  simplicity  of  the  means  that  he  employs  is  worthy  of 
notice.  His  words  are  in  large  proportion  monosyllables,  and 
they  are  seldom  to  be  taken  in  any  unusual  sense ;  neither 
are  there  often  unexpected  turns  of  thought.  His  rimes  are 
the  familiar  ones  of  the  average  hymn  book,  "pain — again," 
"king — sing,"  "prove — love/'  "choose — refuse,"  etc.,  and  he 
is  inexcusably  careless  in  his  repetition  of  rimes;  e.  g.,  in 
the  first  fifty  rimes  of  the  Countess  of  Pembroke's  Passion, 
four  are  repeated,  and  the  same  thing  is  true  of  the  first  fifty 
rimes  of  the  Countess  of  Pembroke's  Love.  In  the  first  sixty- 
three  rimes  of  the  Ravished  Soul,  the  pair,  "  story — glory," 
appears  five  times.  Tracing  his  religious  poems  from  begin- 
ning to  end,  this  simplicity  of  means  is  unchanged,  but  there 
is  developed  a  resonance  of  rhythm,  an  overtone  of  thought, 
that  have  come  with  the  experience  of  the  increasing  years 
in  literature  and  in  life.  The  smooth,  peaceful  flow  of  the 
sentiment  is  not  altered,  but  the  stream  has  broadened  and 

1  The  Ravished  Soul,  p.  6/1. 

8  Countess  of  Pembroke's  Love,  p.  22,4.  7-10.    Cf.  Barnabe  Googe's, 

"  The  oftener  seen,  the  more  I  lust, 

The  more  I  lust,  the  more  I  smart, 
The  more  I  smart,  the  more  I  trust, 

The  more  I  trust,  the  heavier  heart, 
The  heavy  heart  breeds  mine  unrest, 
Thy  absence,  therefore,  like  I  best." 

Oculi  Augent  Dolorem. 


316  EVA    MARCH   TAPPAN. 

deepened.  There  is  reserved  force.  The  quiet,  meditative 
mood  rises  to  outbursts  of  song.  The  gentle  melody  has 
became  abundant  harmony.  It  speaks  well  for  Breton's 
spiritual  and  poetic  nature  that  he  is  at  his  best  in  tones 
of  praise.  His  hymn, 

"  When  the  angels  all  are  singing,"  l 

seems  to  me  the  most  perfect  of  all  his  religious  writings. 
There  is  rare  earnestness,  aspiration,  clearness  of  vision,  the 
faith  that  is  the  substance  of  things  hoped  for,  and  withal, 
exquisiteness  of  rhythm,  condensation  and  completeness  of 
thought,  and  a  certain  freshness  and  brightness — an  eagerness 
of  childlike  longing — that  would  make  a  De  Profundis  into  a 
paean  of  joy.  It  is  the  Sursum  Corda  of  his  religious  poetry. 

Y.    Breton's  Vers  de  Societt. 

Those  of  Breton's  poems  that  are  of  the  nature  of  vers  de 
societe  will  hardly  add  to  his  fame.  As  a  whole,  they  are 
lacking  in  airiness,  elegance,  crispness,  and  lightness  of  touch, 
far  more  common  in  his  other  writings.  There  is  sometimes 
a  graceful  turn  of  thought,  but  in  general  the  movement  is 
too  ponderous,  and  the  wit  is  too  thinly  spread.  Wyatt's  vers 
de  societ6  is  concise  and  pithy,  and  never  didactic.  Gascoigne 
had  in  his  lightest  vein  a  sense  of  construction  which  Breton's 
verse  often  lacks.  Gascoigne  stops  because  the  thought  is 
expressed.  Breton,  like  Turbervile,  writes  on  till  the  time 
is  up,  and  with  a  very  apparent  expectation  of  praise  that  is 
sometimes  a  little  exasperating;  as  is  also  his  air  of  self-satisfied 
deliberation  when  contrasted  with  Sidney's  feverish  eagerness. 

In  the  Toys  of  an  Idle  Head2  I  find  little  to  commend. 
There  are  germs  of  religious  sentiment  and  of  sympathetic 
feeling,  but  shown  in  irresponsible  fashion,  and  often  with 
complete  loss  of  Breton's  usual  power  of  critical  selection ; 
e.  g.,  after  describing  in  some  eight  hundred  lines  the  various 

1  The  Longing  of  a  Blessed  Heart,  p.  15.  s  1577. 


THE   POETRY    OF    NICHOLAS   BRETON.  317 

objects  seen  in  a  dream,1  he  finds  no  objection  to  enumerat- 
ing them  a  second  time,  querying  after  each  one  what  it 
may  mean — a  favorite  anti-climax  of  his  in  setting  forth  his 
numerous  dreams.2  The  wonder  is  that  a  man  who  was  des- 
tined to  write  so  well  at  fifty  should  have  written  so  poorly 
at  thirty-five. 

In  regard  to  the  Arbor  of  Amorous  Devices,  I  find  no  reason 
for  disagreeing  with  the  statement  made  by  W.  Hall  Griffin,3 
that  "Britton's  Divinitie*  alone  is  undoubtedly  by  Breton," 
though  several  other  poems  show  his  favorite  expressions  and 
turns  of  thought.  The  gem  of  the  book,  and  the  gem  of  all 
the  books  ascribed  to  Breton,  A  Sweet  Lullabie,5  is  somewhat 
magisterially  claimed  for  Breton  by  Grosart.6  though  he  makes 
no  attempt  to  prove  his  claim.  Saintsbury7  believes  that  this 
claim  "  is  based  on  little  external  and  refuted  by  all  internal 
evidence."  I  do  not  find  in  the  poem  one  trace  of  the  quali- 
ties of  Breton's  thought,  or  of  the  usual  marks  of  his  style. 
I  claim  it  for  Gascoigne  on  the  following  grounds : — 

1.  Similarity  of  phrase  with  lines  in  Gascoigne's  Epitaph 
upon  Captain  Bouchier* 

a.  "  A  noble  youth  of  blood  and  bone ; 
His  glancing  looks,  if  he  once  smile, 
Right  honest  women  may  beguile." 

LuUabie. 

a.  "  He  might  for  birth  have  boasted  noble  race, 

Yet  were  his  manners  meek  and  always  mild. 

Who  gave  a  guess  by  gazing  on  his  face, 

And  judged  thereby  might  quickly  be  beguiled." 

Epitaph. 

b.  "  Although  a  lion  in  the  field, 

A  lamb  in  town  thou  shalt  him  find." 

Luttabie. 
b.   "  In  field  a  lion  and  in  town  a  child." 

Epitaph. 
1 39/2  A  Strange  Dream. 

9  Cf.  Charles  Lamb's  Vision  of  Repentance  with  its  similar — and  yet  very 
different  treatment. 

3  Morley's  English  Writers,  vol.  xi,  Bibliography  of  Breton. 

4  P.  9.  8  P.  7/1.  6  Grosart's  Breton,  Introd.,  p.  xlviii. 

7  Elizabethan  Literature,  Ch.  vi,  p.  239. 

8  Hazlitt's  Gascoigne,  vol.  1,  p.  75. 


318  EVA   MARCH   TAPPAN. 

2.  The  clear-eyed,  unconventional  view  of  right,  a  charac- 
teristic of  Gascoigne,  but  directly  opposed  to  the  unvarying 
conventionality  of  Breton. 

3.  The  impression  given  by  the  poem  that  it  is  the  product 
of  a  moment  of  inspiration,  and  not  of  any  poetical  industry. 
These  moments  of  inspiration  were  as  characteristic  of  the 
work  of  Gascoigne,  as  is  the  impression  of  industry  given  by 
the  works  of  Breton. 

VI.    Breton's  Pastorals. 

The  pastoral  idea  was  in  England  seed  sown  in  fertile 
ground.  Pastoral  was  in  most  perfect  accord  with  three  of 
the  leading  tendencies  of  the  age  of  Elizabeth :  1 .  The  inherent 
English  love  of  nature  and  simplicity  ;  2.  The  healthy  liking 
for  the  marvelous,  fostered  by  the  great  events  of  the  age, 
and  3.  The  keen  interest  in  human  nature  that  was  to  find  its 
highest  development  in  the  drama.  The  love  of  the  simple 
combined  with  an  appreciation  of  the  marvelous  led  naturally 
to  the  allegorical.  Sidney  found  his  pastoral  inspiration  in 
the  romantic  combined  with  love  of  nature ;  Breton  found  his 
in  love  of  nature  combined  with  close  study  of  human  nature. 

How  far  and  in  what  way  Breton  was  influenced  by  the 
current  literature  of  his  time  is  a  question  in  which  one  must 
move  with  unusual  caution.  Pamphleteer  as  he  was,  he  had 
nothing  of  Defoe's  instinctive  clutch  on  the  sensation  of  the 
next  moment.  Strictly  speaking,  he  was  not  an  originator, 
but  he  had  a  way  of  watching  a  literary  fashion  until  its  first 
ardency  was  past,  and  then  in  his  adoption  of  it,  adding  to  the 
charm  of  familiarity  some  special  touch  of  his  own;  e.  g.,- 
"The  decade,  1580-1590,  may  be  regarded  as  the  period  of 
the  supremacy  of  the  pastoral/'1  but  the  first  certain  date 
of  Breton's  pastoral  is  1591,  when  his  pretty  Phillida  and 
Corydon  was  written  for  the  "  Honorable  Entertainment  given 
to  the  Queen's  Majesty  at  Elvetham." 

1  Schelling'a  Book  of  Elizabethan  Lyrics,  Introd.,  p.  xiv. 


THE   POETRY   OF   NICHOLAS   BRETON.  319 

Just  why  the  queen  was  so  pleased  with  this  simple  little 
poem  is  worth  a  thought.  It  lacked  allegory,  mythology, 
flattery,  plays  upon  words,  everything  in  which  she  especially 
delighted,  and  Elizabeth  was  not  often  enthusiastic  over  a 
mere  graceful  bit  of  fancy.  Perhaps  this  is  the  explanation : — 
The  "  Lady  of  May,'7  the  closing  phrase  of  the  poem,  is  the 
name  of  a  masque  written  by  Sidney  for  the  Earl  of  Leicester's 
entertainment  given  to  the  queen  at  Wansted  in  1578,  when 
she  was  ostensibly  deliberating  on  the  matrimonial  proposals 
of  the  Duke  of  Alen9on.  The  poem  then  brought  to  her 
mind  the  congenial  flattery  of  the  masque,  the  persistence  of 
the  royal  suitor,  the  apparent  coyness  in  which  she  delighted, 
and  the  praise  of  her  decision  implied  in  Breton's  venturing 
to  refer  to  the  matter — and  all  these  were  allusions  of  the  half 
hidden  kind  that  were  never  wasted  on  Elizabeth.  The  idea 
of  the  countrymen  singing  under  her  window  was  not  an 
uncommon  device,  but  it  may  have  been  specially  suggested 
to  Breton  by  Gascoigne's  "  savage  man,"  who  appeared  before 
the  queen  in  the  "  Princely  Pleasures  at  Kenilworth." l 

The  only  suggestion  of  earlier  pastoral  work  comes  from 
his  poems  in  the  Cosens  MS.,2  though  the  unique  copy  of 
Breton's  Bower  of  Delights  in  the  library  at  Britwell  might, 
if  accessible,  afford  valuable  testimony.  The  date  of  the 
Cosens  MS.  is  uncertain.  An  epitaph  on  Sidney  would  make 
it  seem  that  the  poems  were  collected  soon  after  1586 ;  but 
another  epitaph,  on  a  death  that  occurred  in  1553,  would  make 
the  probable  date  of  at  least  some  of  the  poems  much  earlier. 
Now  the  work  that  is  known  to  be  Breton's,  even  up  to  the 
last  quarter  of  Elizabeth's  reign,  not  only  manifests  no  special 
pastoral  tendencies,  but  is  of  a  quality  so  markedly  inferior  to 
even  the  poorest  of  his  pastorals  that  I  cannot  believe  those  in 
the  Cosens  MS.  to  have  greatly  antedated  1591. 

Breton  shows  his  familiarity  with  the  pastorals  and  love- 
lyrics  that  preceded  him,  even  though  it  be  often  simply  in 
avoiding  their  faults.  That  he  knew  the  Italian  pastoral 

1  Nichols's  Progresses  of  Queen  Elizabeth.  2  In  the  British  Museum. 


320  EVA    MATCCH   TAPPAN. 

in  the  original  is  probable  from  the  diary  of  Reverend  Richard 
Madox  (1582),1  which  says  of  him,  "He  speaketh  the  Italian 
well ; "  but  he  makes  no  attempt  to  imitate  Sannazaro's  grave 
and  stately  discourse.  He  avoids  the  spiritless  satire  and  the 
ponderous  theology  of  Barnabe  Googe,  while  adopting  his 
simplicity  and  purity  of  thought.  He  follows  Surrey  in 
delicate  sincerity,  and  in  an  occasional  touch  of  satire,  but  not 
in  his  labored  involutions,  and,  unfortunately,  not  in  his 
impassioned  sentiment.  He  is  as  incapable  of  the  lack  of 
taste  that  permits  an  occasional  disgusting  subject  or  simile 
to  Wyatt  as  he  is  of  the  blind  following  of  fashion  that  led 
Turbervile  to  tell  so  many  revolting  stories  so  excellently 
well.  Unhappily,  he  follows  Turbervile  in  presenting  the 
inevitable  moral  well  laid  on,  but  in  choice  of  subject  he  is  far 
in  advance.  Turbervile  writes  indiscriminately  on  the  in- 
constancy of  woman  and  the  horrors  of  Russia;  Breton  in  his 
great  variety  of  themes  has  not  chosen  one  that  is  incapable  of 
poetical  treatment.  The  sensual  element  of  Watson  he  has 
replaced  by  a  most  exquisite  sensibility  to  beauty  and  grace, 
not  only  of  form  and  feature,  but  of  spirit.  His  nymphs  and 
shepherdesses  are  beautiful  as  a  matter  of  course,  but  with  one 
exception,2  there  are  no  inventoried  details  of  their  physical 
attractions.  It  is  their  kindness,  wit,  purity,  sympathy, 
modesty,  truth,  sincerity,  that  appeal  to  him,  charms  of  the 
real  woman,  and  not  of  the  somewhat  voluptuous  nymph. 
His  admiration  for  Spenser  is  manifest.  He  does  not  attain 
to  the  peerless  harmony  of  the  Spenserian  verse,  but  he  avoids 
what  is  to  me  the  one  blemish  on  Spenser's  pastorals,  the 
slight  air  of  patronage  toward  his  rustics.  Spenser  paints 
simplicity  of  life,  but  from  the  outside,  and  his  "Cuddie" 
and  "  Diggon  "  sometimes  talk  like  the  "  Cuddie  "  and  "  Dig- 
gon "  of  a  poet's  dream.  That  Lyly  influenced  him  in  his 
pastoral  is  probable  from  the  effect  apparently  produced  upon 
him  by  Endymion*  for  the  main  thought  of  Endymion,  love 

1  Sloane  MS.  5008,  British  Museum.  ^Passionate  Shepherd,  3. 

"Written  probably  1581  or  1582;  acted  February,  1591. 


THE   POETRY    OF   NICHOLAS    BRETON.  321 

arousing  from  death  or  from  sleep,  is  the  keynote  of  so  many 
of  his  pastorals  and  love-poems ;  e.  g., 

"  By  thy  comfort  have  been  seen 
Dead  men  brought  to  life  again."  l 

"  He  pity  cried,  and  pity  came, 

And  pitied  so  his  pain  ; 
As  dying  would  not  let  him  die 
But  gave  him  life  again."  * 

His  familiarity  with  the  works  of  Gascoigne  has  been  noted,3 
and  it  has  been  suggested 4  that  the  title  of  his  Small  Handful 
of  Fragrant  Flowers  was  perhaps  imitated  from  Gascoigne's 
Posies.  Attention  has  also  been  called  to  the  fact  that  Richard 
Jones,  who  was  Gascoigne's  publisher,  printed  several  of  Bre- 
ton's earlier  works.5  By  the  marriage  of  his  widowed  mother 
with  Gascoigne,  Breton  was  brought  into  close  connection 
with  perhaps  the  strongest  literary  personality  of  the  time. 
To  a  man  who  developed  as  slowly  as  Breton  the  nine  years, 
from  the  age  of  twenty-four  to  thirty-three,  during  which 
Gascoigne  was  his  stepfather,  were  formative  years.  The 
fact  that  between  the  appearance  of  his  first  writings,  a  few 
months  before  Gascoigne's  death,  and  the  publication  of  his 
next  volume  there  was  an  interval  of  fifteen  years  suggests 
almost  inevitably  that  his  pursuit  of  literary  fame  had  lost 
by  that  death  its  inspiration  and  encouragement.  His  poems 
rival  Gascoigne's  in  sincerity,  but  while  those  of  the  earlier 
poet  have  an  autobiographical  tone,  Breton's  give  the  impres- 
sion of  being  the  work  of  a  close  observer.  He  had  nothing 
of  the  objective  originality  that  led  Gascoigne  to  attempt  new 
styles  and  to  test  new  methods;  his  originality  was  purely 
subjective,  and  consisted  in  adding  something  of  his  own  to 
whatever  established  fashion  he  chose  to  follow.  In  delicacy 

1  Phillis  and  Corydon. 

*Astrophell  his  Song  of  PhUlida  and  Coridon.  See  also  Phillis  in  Sorrow,  The 
Nightingale  and  Phillis,  Love  Dead,  Love  Rejected,  Countess  of  Pembroke's  Love, 
p.  25/1,  1.  6.  3Grosart's  Breton,  Introd.,  p.  Ixvi. 

4  Schelling's  Life  and  Writings  of  George  Gascoigne,  p.  53,  note  4.        6  Ibid. 


322  EVA    MARCH   TAPPAN. 

of  imagery  he  improves  greatly  upon  Gascoigne  who  swims  in 
sugared  love l  or  in  seas  of  joy,2  whose  sighs  boil  out  of  his 
breast  and  scald  his  heart  in  the  process,3  who  can  find  no 
"  good  plaister  "  for  his  pain,4  and  finally  sinks  "  in  puddles 
of  despight."  5  Where  Gascoigne  says,6 

"Amid  my  bale  I  bathe  in  bliss," 

Breton  writes,7 

"  They  bide  in  bliss  amid  their  weary  bale." 

In  love  of  nature  the  two  poets  stood  together,  but  Gascoigne 
had  the  wider  view  and  was  by  far  the  keener  observer. 

With  Sidney  I  find  Breton  in  accord,  not  in  externals  of 
style  and  expression,  but,  differing  only  in  degree,  in  "that 
individual  note,  that  intense  and  passionate  cry  of  the  poet's 
very  heart." 8  Sidney's  humanness  is  one  of  his  greatest 
charms;  and  Breton's  most  trivial  pastorals  and  love  poems 
give  us  the  human  shining  through  the  delicately  ideal. 
Instead  of  his  "  Phillida  "  and  "Aglaia,"  write  the  names  of 
real  maidens,  and  these  are  poems  of  unaffected  love,  sadness, 
courage,  or  despair.  Watson  is  always  insincere.9  Wyatt's 
love  poems  are  his  idea  of  how  a  lover  ought  to  feel  toward  a 
Dulcinea  who  ought  to  be  all  that  his  fancy  ought  to  paint 
her ;  but  with  both  Sidney  and  Breton  there  is  an  air  of  truth 
that  makes  the  poems  seern  the  result  of  real  experiences. 

1 "  I  seem  to  swim  in  such  a  sugared  love." 

The  Lover  Determined  to  Make  a  Virtue  of  Necessity. 
1 "  Even  she  for  whom  I  seemed  of  yore  in  seas  of  joy  to  swim." 

Divorce  of  a  Lover. 

3  "And  where  the  sighs  which  boil  out  of  my  breast 

May  scald  my  heart,  and  yet  the  cause  unknown." 

Dan  Bartholmew. 

4  "  Nor  ever  can  I  find  good  plaister  for  my  pain."— Complaint  of  the  Green 
Knight. 

' "  When  as  I  sunk  in  puddles  of  despight." — Dan  Bartholmew. 

6  Hazlitt's  edition  of  Gascoigne,  i.  40. 

7  Flourish  upon  Fancy,  25/1,  1.  13. 

8  Schilling's  Book  of  Elizabethan  Lyrics,  Introd.,  p.  xv. 

9  Except  when  he  pretends  to  be  insincere ;  e.  g.,  Ekatompathia,  88. 


THE   POETRY   OF   NICHOLAS   BRETON.  323 

Even  in  style  there  are  similarities.  Sidney  has  a  high-bred 
courtliness  and  gentle  grace  which  Breton  lacks,  but  both 
show  the  same  love  of  simple  and  musical  words,  the  same 
smooth,  easy  flow  of  language,  suddenly  deepened  by  some 
apposite  richness  of  thought ;  the  same  transparency  and  sim- 
plicity by  no  means  indicative  of  shallowness ;  and  most  of  all, 
that  inimitable  air  of  almost  childlike  trustfulness,  differing  in 
that  Breton  had  had  to  win  his  friends,  to  make  his  life,  while 
Sidney  had  always  been  surrounded  by  love  and  appreciation. 
Breton  shows  in  his  pastoral  little  of  the  verbal  doubling 
on  one's  track  that  is  common  in  some  of  his  other  writings. 
There  is  little  repetition  of  favorite  phrases  and  devices.  Easy 
spinner  of  verse  though  he  is,  he  often  shows  the  definiteness  of 
his  thought  in  that  the  first  few  lines  of  a  pastoral  are  its  key, 
or  rather  its  text,  and  in  that  he  knows  when  what  he  has  to 
say  has  been  said.  In  poems  whose  alternate  lines  are  almost 
of  the  nature  of  a  refrain  (e.  g.,  Phillis  and  Cory  don,  A  Sweet 
Pastoral),  there  is  nothing  of  the  permissible  monotony  of  a 
refrain,  but  a  real,  though  subordinate,  addition  to  the  thought. 
One  little  "report  song,"  Shall  we  go  dance  the  hay?  The 
hay  ?  *  deserves  an  especial  word  of  praise  for  the  merry  swing 
of  its  metre.  His  definiteness  appears  also  in  the  clean-drawn 
details  of  his  imagery.  His  birds  are  named,  "  the  blackbird 
and  the  thrush;"  his  flowers  "roses  with  violets  sweet;"  but 
he  is  most  definite  of  all,  perhaps  in  Phillis  and  Coridon: — 

"  On  a  hill  there  grows  a  flower, 
Fair  befall  the  dainty  sweet ; 
By  that  flower  there  is  a  bower, 
Where  the  heavenly  muses  meet. 
In  that  bower  there  is  a  chair, 
Fringed  all  about  with  gold" — 

which  reminds  one  irresistibly  of  William  Morris.2 

1  Cf.  Herrick's  To  Phillis  to  Love  and  Live  wilh  Him,  line  30 :— "  To  dance 
the  heyes  with  nimble  feet ; "  also,  Sir  John  Davies's  Orchestra,  stanza  53 : — 
"  He  seems  to  dance  a  perfect  hay." 

8  See  Defence  of  Queen  Guenevere,  Near  Avalon,  Golden  Wings,  Rapunzel, 
passim. 


324  EVA    MARCH   TAPPAN. 

In  love  of  the  country  Breton  is  absolutely  sincere.  Wyatt 
rarely  even  mentions  an  object  of  nature.  Turbervile  has 
an  occasional  "  golden  sunne,"  or  "  raggie  rocks,"  or  "  starrie 
skies."  Googe  speaks  of  hunting,  but  elsewhere  he  makes 
almost  no  mention  of  either  plant  or  animal,  save  the  sheep, 
a  reference  which  the  traditions  of  the  pastoral  made  almost 
unavoidable;  Watson  uses  nature  chiefly  for  purposes  of  simile; 
Breton,  Gascoigne,  and  Surrey  love  her  for  herself.  Nor  is 
Breton  satisfied,  even  in  an  eclogue,  with  nature  as  cultivated 
by  man ;  his  garden-plot  must  be  nourished  by  a  "  quechy 
spring."  His  couplet, 

"  Who  can  live  in  heart  so  glad 
As  the  merry  country-lad," l 

is  as  real  a  nature  poem  as  Whittier's  Barefoot  Boy.  It  is 
true  that  his  country  is  usually  in  all  the  glow  of  a  "  blessed 
sunny  day,"  but  it  is  no  fool's  paradise,  it  is  real  country,  and 
when  he  chooses,  he  can  paint  it  in  other  moods ;  e.  g., 

"  Full  of  danger  is  the  rock ; 
Wolves  and  bears  do  keep  the  wood, 
Forests  full  of  furze  and  brakes, 
Meadows  subject  to  the  floods ; 
Moors  are  full  of  miry  lakes."  8 

His  description  of  the  country  is  purely  objective.  I  hardly 
think  that  he  would  have  understood  Sidney's  thrilling  lines  : — 

"  O  sweet  woods,  the  delight  of  solitariness ! 
O  how  much  I  do  like  your  solitariness ! "  3 

He  has  not  the  eye  of  a  nineteenth  century  naturalist  for 
scientific  details,  and  he  rarely  notes  individual  characteristics. 
His  lambs  "  run  at  base,"  the  snails  are  slimy,  the  bee  finds 
honey.  The  daisy  is  simply  a  daisy,  whether  it  is  single  or 
double,  white  or  "  crimson-tipped,"  he  has  never  noticed ;  but 
he  loves  it,  and  it  is  this  childlike  love  of  his  that  is  so  refresh- 
ing in  this  age  of  the  laboratory  and  the  microscope.  His 
favorite  animals  are  the  gentle,  timorous  ones,  and  I  can  hardly 

1  Passionate  Shepherd,  3.          ^Choridon  Unhappy.          *  Arcadia,  Book  2. 


THE   POETRY   OF   NICHOLAS    BRETON.  325 

forgive  him,  even  though  he  is  in  company  with  Shakespeare, 
that  he  shows  a  real  antipathy  to  the  dog. 

His  subject  is  never  complex  ;  it  is  always  a  simple  incident 
or  a  single  mood ;  and  in  this  simplicity  there  is  something  of 
the  once-upon-a-time  air  of  an  oft-told  tale.  The  familiar 
adverbial  beginning  is  one  of  his  favorites ;  e.  g., 

"  On  a  hill  there  grows  a  flower,"  * 
"  In  the  merry  month  of  May."  2 
"  Upon  a  dainty  hill  sometime."  3 

Not  that  Breton's  pastoral  has  the  insouciance  of  a  fairy- 
tale !  There  is  sometimes  a  note  of  unaffected  sadness ;  there 
is  satire,  kindly  but  keen  of  sight;  often  in  the  midst  of 
the  lighter  touches  is  there  a  deeper  tone  of  some  universal 
thought. 

VII.    Breton's  Satire. 

.  A  literary  man  sensitive  to  the  movements  of  his  age  could 
hardly  have  neglected  the  writing  of  satire,  indicating  as  it 
did  the  influence  of  the  drama  in  its  nice  distinctions  of 
character  drawing.  In  Breton's  pastoral,  even  in  his  religious 
poems,  there  are  traces  of  the  keenly  critical  insight  that 
makes  satire  possible ;  but  his  earliest  strictly  satirical  work, 
the  Pasquil  series,  belongs  to  1600.  Early  the  next  year 
Breton,  Jonson,  and  Marston  were  attacked  by  "W.  I." 
(William  Ingram?  John  Weever?)  in  the  Whipping  of  the 
Satyr,  the  stinging  allusions  to  Jonson  and  Breton  being 
rendered  even  more  unmistakable  by  marginal  notes.4  The 
reply  made  to  this  was  the  No  Whipping,  to  Breton's  author- 
ship of  which  the  internal  evidence  is  almost  conclusive. 
Grosart  notes5  the  similarity  of  the  ending  of  the  introduc- 
tory epistle  to  those  of  The  Murmurer,  The  Good  and  the  Bad, 
and  Wit's  Private  Wealth.  There  are  Breton's  striking  expres- 

1 A  Pastoral  of  Phillis  and  Coridon.  *Philida  and  Coridon. 

8  The  Nightingale  and  Phillis. 

4  Collier's  Bibliographical  Account  under  Whipping  of  the  Satire. 
•'  Grosart's  Breton,  Introd.,  p.  xxxi. 


326  EVA    MARCH   TAPPAN. 

sions  that  appear  in  the  Pasquil  series,  his  "Had  I  wist" 
his  "  Woe  begone  me ;  "  his  favorite  contrasts,  "  will — wit/' 
"king — beggar;"  his  appreciation  of  the  power  of  money  and 
his  never  failing  afterthought  that  goodness  is  far  more  desir- 
able. There  is  the  inevitable  play  on  words,  but  with  the 
moral  ending  so  eminently  Bretonesque ;  e.  g., 

"  Know  you  a  villain  ?     Let  him  find  his  match : 
And  show  not  you  a  match  a  villain's  skill. 

Let  pass  the  villain  with  his  villainy, 

Make  thou  thy  match  with  better  company."  * 

But  far  less  easy  of  imitation  by  the  satirist  is  Breton's  readi- 
ness to  acknowledge  his  own  faults,  his  humanity,  his  kindly 
spirit,  his  alternate  raillery  and  gravity,  with  the  earnestness 
of  aim  underlying  both ;  and  perhaps  most  of  all,  his  eager 
clinging  to  his  friends  and  his  fear  to  wound  even  an  enemy, 
combined  with  his  manly  independence  of  spirit. 

Satire  can  hardly  fail  to  be  an  honest  expression  of  the 
author's  thought.  To  the  student  of  Breton,  then,  the  author 
reveals  himself  more  freely  here  than  in  any  of  his  other 
writings.  Juvenal's  bitter  lashings  were  the  models  of  six- 
teenth century  satire,  followed  closely  by  Hall,  Marston, 
Donne,  and  those  lesser  writers,  that  echoed  their  vituperation 
though  not  their  genius.  There  could  be  no  greater  contrast 
with  the  work  of  these  men  than  that  of  Breton.  He  lacks 
Hall's  obstreperous  vigor,  as  he  does  his  harshness,  his 
obscurity,  and  his  occasional  foulness.  Marston  is  fiercely 
acrimonious,  often  vilely  scurrilous.  Saintsbury  calls  him2 
"  nearly  the  foulest,  if  not  quite  the  foulest  writer  of  any 
English  classic."  His  "fury  of  demoniac  laughter"  is  even 
more  bitter  than  his  invective.  Donne's  satire  often  fairly 
blazes  with  almost  malignant  rage ;  his  sarcasm  is  too  bitter 
for  any  touch  of  humor. 

1Grosart's  Breton,  Introd.,  p.  xxxiii;  xxxi-xxxvii  gives  long  extracts 
from  No  Whipping. 

^Elizabethan  Literature,  Chapter  iv,  p.  151. 


THE   POETRY   OF   NICHOLAS   BRETON.  327 

With  none  of  these  has  Breton  anything  in  common.  His 
satire  comes  directly  from  Gascoigne,  and  shows  the  same 
penetrating  but  friendly  insight,  the  same  power  to  outline 
briefly  and  tellingly  the  good  and  the  bad,  the  same  careful- 
ness to  blame  wrongs  rather  than  individuals,  the  same  sensitive 
watchfulness  not  to  wound  the  innocent.  Breton's  satire  was 
directed  chiefly  against  wealth  versus  poverty ;  Gascoigne 
takes  higher  ground  and  satirizes  "  Such  as  love  to  seem  but 
not  to  be ; JM  but  both  write  like  men  who  knew  their  world. 
The  Fool's  Cap  is  full  of  sound  worldly  wisdom  in  the  same 
key  as  the  advice  of  Polonius : — 

"He  that  doth  fill  his  coffers  full  of  gold, 
Yet  will  not  wear  good  clothes  on  his  back, 
But  doth  a  kind  of  clownish  humor  hold 
To  have  his  garment  cut  out  like  a  sack, 
And  thinks  red  herring  have  a  dainty  smack, 
Tell  him  in  kindness  (that  he  may  not  quarrel), 
The  foolscap  will  be  fit  for  his  apparel."  2 

Even  while  he  chides  the  thirst  for  gold,  he  admits  freely  the 
benefits  that  gold  can  procure. 

He  is  in  word  and  suggestion  absolutely  free  from  any 
touch  of  grossness.  His  satire  is  marked  by  its  impersonality, 
its  unselfishness;  the  injustice  that  he  castigates  is  not  the 
injustice  that  has  touched  him ;  e.  g.,  he  nowhere  manifests 
any  longing  for  academic  distinction,  but  there  is  acumen  and 
sympathy  in  his  lines  : 3 — 

"And  grieve  to  see  true  learning's  worth  decrease, 
When  that  a  dunce  doth  take  a  doctor's  charge." 

He  is  often  playful,  but  never  flippant.  His  humor  varies 
with  his  mood ;  sometimes  it  comes  from  unexpected  juxta- 
position, but  far  oftener  from  a  picture  brought  before  the 
mind  by  a  few  telling  strokes ;  e.  g.,4 

1  The  Steele  Glas,  Hazlitt's  Gascoigne,  u,  p.  186. 

2  Foolscap,  p.  21/2,  1.  1.  3  The  Soul's  Immortal  Crown,  p.  8/2, 1.  27. 
'PastjuiPs  Mad  Cap,  p.  9/1,  1.  50. 


328  EVA    MARCH    TAPPAN. 

"  He  like  the  crane  that  stalks  along  the  street, 
And  overlooks  the  moon  and  all  the  stars, 
She  that  doth  softly  strive  to  set  her  feet 
As  though  her  joints  had  lately  been  at  wars." 

Sometimes  his  earnestness  overpowers  his  humor,  but  gener- 
ally he  sees  the  ludicrous  and  the  serious  at  the  same  glance. 
Pasquil's  Precession,  for  instance,  is  a  litany,  in  which,  within 
the  narrow  limits  of  one  stanza,  he  prays  to  be  delivered, 

"From  laying  plots  for  to  abuse  a  friend,"  l 
and  also, 

"  From  surfeiting  within  a  cherry  tree."  2 

Pasquil's  Prognostications  is  in  the  same  line  as  the  closing 
stanzas  of  Gascoigne's  Steele  Glas,  and  is  as  full  of  sound 
morale  as  Holmes's  Latter-Day  Warnings,  only  where  Holmes 
can  rail  and  laugh,  and  leave  the  reader  to  find  his  own  lesson, 
Breton  is  a  little  afraid  of  trusting  his  moral  to  stand  alone. 
Just  why  Lee  3  should  have  said  that  Breton  wrote  like  a  dis- 
appointed man,  I  do  not  see.  It  is  true  that  he  is  sometimes 
melancholy  and  that  the  future  that  he  paints  is  not  always 
rainbow-tinted,  but  he  never  doubts  that  it  has  a  foundation 
of  good  sense  and  reasonable  hope,  and  that  the  following 
out  of  his  prescriptions  will  have  a  salutary  effect. 

After  all,  the  greatest  charm  of  his  satires  is  their  kindli- 
ness, their  humanity,  their  never  carrying  fire  where  light 
will  suffice.  Marston4  almost  annihilates  the  poor  lover  who 
worships  the  picture  of  his  mistress.  Breton 5  in  mock  seri- 
ousness forbids  that  one  should  kneel  to  a  dead  image  while 
there  is  one  alive  for  the  purpose.  Donne's  Will  is  a  biting 
sarcasm ;  Breton's  Farewell 'f  like  Gascoigne's  Lullaby  of  a 
Lover,  has  no  touch  of  bitterness.  The  pun, 

"  I  had  no  suit  there,  nor  new  suit  to  shew, 
Yet  went  to  court."  7 

lPasquil's  Precession,  8/1, 1.  22.  *Ibid.,  1.  27. 

9  Dictionary  of  National  Biography,  article  Breton. 

4  Scourge  of  Villainy,  1.  92. 

5  Strange  News  out  of  Divers  Countries,  p.  7/1,  1.  16. 

6  MeUincholike  Humours,  p.  10.  7  Donne's  Satire  IV. 


THE    POETRY   OF   NICHOLAS   BRETON.  329 

which  in  Donne  is  stinging  sarcasm,  would  in  Breton,  even  if 
expressed  in  the  same  words,  be  so  pervaded  with  the  general 
tone  of  charity  and  kind-heartedness  as  to  lose  its  sting. 

VIII.    Breton,  the  Man,  in  His  Work. 

No  poet  ever  manifested  himself  in  his  work  more  clearly 
than  does  Breton.  The  characteristic  that  comes  most  to  the 
surface  is  his  good  will  toward  all  men.  Even  before  his 
Invective  on  Treason  he  speaks  of  "  naming  no  person  offend- 
ing, and  wishing  there  had  never  been  such  an  offence."  He 
is  on  friendly  terms  not  only  with  the  human  race,  but  with 
the  lower  animals.  It  pleases  him  to  see  that  the  "  flies  be 
dancing  in  the  sun  ; " l  and  he  likes  to  watch 

"The  little  black-haired  cony, 
On  a  bank  for  sunny  place, 
With  her  fore  feet  wash  her  face."  8 

His  manly  independence  of  character,  quiet  and  unobtrusive 
as  it  is,  is  absolutely  unbending.  Even  in  those  of  his  dedi- 
cations and  prefaces  that  are  written  in  the  euphuistic  vein, 
so  subtle  an  incentive  to  flattery,  he  makes  no  attempt  to  curry 
the  favor  that  removed  so  many  obstacles  from  the  path  of  the 
literary  man  of  the  sixteenth  century.  Even  Gascoigne  makes 
appeals  for  patronage,  distasteful  as  they  must  have  been  to 
him ;  and  he  does  it  in  a  delightfully  persistent,  business-like 
fashion,  as  if  he  meant  to  end  a  disagreeable  matter  as  soon  as 
possible,  Breton  manifests  a  "  decent  respect  to  the  opinions 
of  mankind,"  asks  that  his  book  be  read,  and  evinces  a  healthy 
gratitude  in  advance,  but  does  not  hesitate  to  sign  himself 
"  Your  friend  as  I  find  cause."  3  Sometimes  he  does  not  even 
ask  for  a  reading,  but  says,  "  You  shall  read  it  if  it  shall  please 
you,  and  consider  of  it  as  it  shall  like  you." 4  His  dedication 
to  King  James 6  is  marked  by  the  same  quiet  dignity  and  self- 

1 Passionate  Shepherd,  2.  8/6id,  3. 

3  Preface  to  The  Soul's  Immortal  Crown. 

*Pasquil's  Pass  and  Passeth  Not,  epistle  to  the  reader. 

5  Soul's  Immortal  Crown. 

3 


330  EVA    MAECH   TAPPAN. 

reliance,  and  a  firm  though  modest  conviction  that,  faulty  as 
it  may  be,  what  he  has  written  is  yet  worth  reading.  Not 
even  to  suit  the  taste  of  a  prince  would  he  swerve  from  his 
course ;  e.  g.,  James  delighted  in  theological  controversy,  but 
of  Breton's  seventeen  booklets  that  appeared  after  1603,  not 
one  is  in  the  least  controversial,  and  but  two  can  be  called 
strictly  theological. 

It  was  a  time  of  freedom,  but  also  of  unbounded  servility 
and  worship  of  titles.  Barnabe  Googe  in  his  Epitaph  on  Lord 
Sheffield's  Death  (1563)  is  less  overpowered  by  the  death  than 
by  the  thought  that  "  mere  crabbed  clowns "  should  have 
ventured  to  murder  a  man  who  was  "  lord  by  birth."  In  an 
age  that  was  on  its  knees  before  a  queen  who  could  demand 
and  assimilate  grosser  adulation  than  any  other  mortal,  Breton 
contented  himself  with  expressing  his  appreciation  of  what 
good  she  had  already  done,  and  encouraging  her  to  do  more. 

In  rare  contrast  with  his  independence  is  his  intellectual 
modesty.  He  was  no  ignorant  man ;  besides  those  authors 
whose  influence  he  shows,  he  makes  direct  reference  to  Pe- 
trarch, Tasso,  Ariosto,  Dante,  Guarini,  Machiavelli,  Ovid, 
Cicero,  Virgil,  and  Homer.  He  spoke  Italian ;  with  Latin 
he  was  familiar  enough  to  treat  it  in  easy,  colloquial  fashion. 
A  pedantic  display  of  erudition  would  not  have  been  a  diffi- 
cult matter  for  Breton,  but  he  was  no  pedant.  In  a  day 
when  "  Poets  desired  to  show  their  learning,  their  knowledge 
of  the  details  of  mythology,  their  acquaintance  with  the  more 
fantastic  theories  of  contemporary  science," l  Breton's  mytho- 
logical allusions  were  comparatively  few,  hardly  too  many  for 
the  taste  of  the  present  age.  Of  the  sciences  he  has  little 
to  say.  He  gives  an  occasional  quizzical  word  to  alchemy; 
astronomy,  or  astrology,  he  mentions  more  frequently  than 
the  others,  and  usually  with  good-natured  incredulity,  the 
more  remarkable  at  a  time  when  many  of  the  greatest  men 
were  firm  believers  in  the  fates  as  foretold  by  the  stars.  His 
knowledge  of  all  kinds  he  wears  lightly,  as  if  he  loved  it 

1Andrew  Lang's  introduction  to  Chapman  in  Ward's  English  Poets. 


THE   POETRY   OF    NICHOLAS   BRETON.  331 

rather  than  set  a  value  upon  it.  "  Facile,  ready,  ever  fertile,"1 
as  he  was,  he  had  not  the  officious  readiness  of  the  shallow 
mind.  That  he  is  easy  reading,  that  one  does  not  find  the 
resistance  of  Donne,  is  not  due  to  lack  of  thought,  but  rather 
to  the  clearness  and  simplicity  with  which  his  thought  is 
expressed.  His  reader  is  called  on  to  think  with  the  words, 
not  between  them ;  and  any  possible  impression  of  weakness 
comes  rather  from  diffuseness  of  style,  than  from  vagueness  or 
feebleness  of  thought. 

Breton  was  not  a  great  poet,  but  he  was  admired  by  the 
same  audience  that  admired  great  poets.  Aside  from  his 
literary  merits,  I  should  attribute  this : — 

1.  To  his  avoidance  of  opposition  by  following  the  literary 
line  of  least  resistance ;  e.  g.,  in  his  never  introducing  a  new 
literary  fashion,  and   in  never   adopting   one  that  had  not 
become  an  established  favorite. 

2.  To  his  ability  to  please  an  unusually  varied  audience, 
resulting  from  his  power  to  combine  in  each  kind  of  verse 
qualities  that  other  and  greater  writers  would  have  found  inhar- 
monious ;   e.  g.,  his  religious  poetry  is  ardent  and  spiritual 
enough  to  please  the  most  devout,  and  is  outspoken  enough  to 
win  the  respect  of  the  most  belligerent  controversialist;  his 
pastoral  would  delight  the  lover  of  sprightly,  graceful  verse, 
and  its  touch  of  reality  and  earnestness  would  not  leave  entirely 
unsatisfied  the  desires  of  the  deepest  student  of  human  nature  ; 
his  satire  was  keen  enough  to  hold  its  own  with  that  of  Hall, 
Donne,  and  Marston,  and  kindly  enough  not  to  grieve  those 
that  would  more  "  gently  scan  "  their  fellow-man. 

Breton  was  charitable  to  his  foes,  almost  pathetically  devoted 
to  his  friends,  and  capable  of  a  generous,  romantic  friendship. 
He  disliked  harshness  and  violence,  and  for  the  sake  of  peace 
would  sacrifice  anything  but  his  own  sturdy  self-respect.  In 
the  expression  of  his  religious  feelings  he  leaned  toward  the 
sentimental,  but  his  faith  was  sincere,  and  had  grown  up  in  a 
bracing  atmosphere  of  practical  common  sense.  His  nature 

1  Schelling's  Elizabethan  Lyrics,  p.  226. 


332  EVA   MAECH   TAPPAK. 

was  not  profound,  neither  was  it  shallow ;  it  was  sunny,  con- 
tented, almost  transparently  artless  and  childlike.  He  was  a 
poet,  and  he  was  more ;  he  was  a  kind-hearted,  pure-minded, 
Christian  man. 

No  one  can  feel  more  keenly  than  I  the  incompleteness  of 
this  study  of  Nicholas  Breton.  As  a  political  pamphleteer,  a 
writer  of  "  characters,"  a  novelist,  a  humorist,  a  philosopher, 
a  letter-writer,  his  work  has  not  even  been  mentioned.  All 
that  could  be  attempted  was  to  present  this  richly  endowed 
nature  on  its  poetical  side,  leaving  to  some  other  pen  the 
many  phases  of  his  literary  activity  that  are  here  untouched. 

EVA  MARCH  TAPPAN. 


X.— BOCCACCIO'S  DEFENCE  OF  POETRY;  AS  CON- 
TAINED IN  THE  FOURTEENTH  BOOK  OF  THE 
DE  OENEALOGIA  DEORUM. 

The  work  in  which  his  Defence  of  Poetry  occurs,  the  De 
Genealogia  Deorum,  was  first  suggested  to  Boccaccio  while  he 
was  yet  a  young  man,  by  Hugo,  king  of  Cyprus.  Hugo  sent 
to  the  young  poet,  asking  him  to  write  a  work  upon  the 
mythology  of  antiquity,  there  being  no  such  book  then  in 
existence.  Boccaccio  seems  to  have  been  by  no  means  eager 
for  so  tremendous  a  task,  but  urged  on  by  his  royal  patron 
he  at  last  began  it,  and  continued  to  work  on  it  at  intervals, 
though  the  king  who  had  originally  set  him  the  undertaking 
did  not  live  to  see  its  completion.  Completed,  indeed,  it 
never  really  was,  and  it  was  without  the  author's  knowledge 
and  against  his  wishes  that  the  manuscript  passed  out  of  his 
hands  before  it  had  undergone  revision.  This  accounts  in 
part  for  the  desultory  character  of  the  work,  its  diffuseness, 
its  repetitions,  its  lack  of  arrangement  and  subordination ; 
only  in  part,  of  course,  for  something  of  all  this — that, 
namely,  which  corresponds  with  the  essentially  undiscrimi- 
nating,  non-selective  mind  of  the  author  himself — could  not 
have  been  eliminated  by  any  amount  of  revision. 

The  work  is  written  in  Latin  prose,  and  the  main  part  of 
it  treats  of  the  heathen  myths,  with  special  reference  to  their 
allegorical  significance.  In  the  fourteenth  chapter,  however, 
he  attempts  to  defend  his  work  against  the  accusations  which 
he  foresees  it  must  encounter;  and,  since,  as  he  says,  his  work 
is  "wholly  poetical,"1  he  is  naturally  involved  in  a  defense 
of  poetry  in  general. 

He  opens  his  defense  by  describing  his  accusers — the  jurists, 
the  doctors,  the  theologians — with  such  satire  as  his  rather 

:Fol.  p.  359.  The  references  throughout  are  to  the  edition  of  1532, 
Basileae,  lo.  Hervagius. 

333 


334  ELISABETH   WOODBRIDQE. 

placid  nature  could  command.  Having  thus  oratorically  dis- 
posed of  the  least  worthy  of  his  opponents,  he  passes  to  the 
more  formidable  of  the  accusations  themselves.  "What  is 
this  poetry?"  its  maligners  clamor;  "it  is  simply  a  nullity, 
not  worth  the  attention  of  a  rational  being;  it  is  a  collection 
of  lies ;  it  is  either  mere  foolishness,  or  it  is  morally  bane- 
ful, or  it  is  so  obscure  that  no  one  can  understand  it ;  at 
best,  the  poets  are  simply  apes  of  the  philosophers.  Hence, 
all  good  men  will  follow  Jerome  and  Boethius  in  condemn- 
ing poetry,  they  will  follow  Plato  in  banishing  poets  from 
the  cities." 

Such  is  the  line  of  objections  taken,  and  these  objections 
Boccaccio  considers  one  by  one,  using  any  argument  that  he 
thinks  may  avail,  from  the  puerile  quibbling  of  the  school- 
men to  the  sweeping  and  revolutionary  art-theories  of  the 
new  Humanism.  Indeed,  it  is  this  union,  or  rather  inter- 
mingling, of  the  old  and  the  new,  that  gives  to  the  treatise 
much  of  its  peculiar  interest  and  significance. 

Poetry,  says  Boccaccio,  is  not  a  nullity.  If  it  were,  he 
naively  asks,  whence  come  all  these  volumes  of  poems  ? l  In 
reality,  it  is  one  of  the  faculties  (in  the  scholastic  sense  of  the 
word)  coming  from  God,  and  this  very  name  "  facultas " — 
here  speaks  the  schoolman — "  implies  a  certain  abundance  or 
fullness."  Then  follows  his  own  definition  of  poetry: 

"  Poetry  is  a  certain  fervor  of  exquisite  invention,  and  of 
exquisite  speaking  or  writing  what"  one  has  invented.  A 
power  which,  proceeding  out  of  the  bosom  of  God,  is  granted 
at  birth,  though,  I  think,  to  but  few.  .  .  .  This  noble  fervor 
manifests  itself,  for  example,  in  urging  the  mind  to  a  longing 
for  expression,  in  searching  out  rare  and  strange  inventions, 
in  giving  to  one's  thoughts  order  and  arrangement,  in  adorn- 
ing the  composition  by  means  of  an  unusual  interweaving 
of  words  and  thoughts,  in  concealing  the  truth  under  the 
beauteous  veil  of  the  fable."2 

1  P.  360.  2  Cap.  vn,  fol.  pp.  360,  361. 


BOCCACCIO'S   DEFENCE   OF   POETRY.  335 

There  follows  a  remarkable  exposition  of  the  etymology  of 
the  word  "  poetry." l  Some  malignant  persons,  he  says,  have 
derived  it  from  the  Greek  Troiew,  which  they  make  equivalent 
to  the  Latin  finyo,  and  then,  choosing  out  the  worst  mean- 
ing of  this  verb  fingo,  i.  e.,  to  cheat  or  deceive  by  made-up 
stories,  they  apply  this  meaning  to  poetry,  and  use  it  as  a 
reproach,  calling  the  poets  cheats  and  deceivers.  In  reality, 
Boccaccio  assures  us,  the  word  comes  from  an  old  Greek 
word,  poetes,  meaning  "carefully  chosen  expression"  ("ex- 
quisita  locutio  ")  and  it  was  applied  to  the  efforts  of  the  early 
poets,  because  they  tried  to  give  to  their  songs  a  distinctive 
form  and  order,  by  means  of  rhythm  and  choice  of  words. 

Thus  we  see  that  Boccaccio's  theory  of  poetry  emphasizes, 
On  the  one  hand,  the  careful  ordering  and  disposition  of 
words ;  and  on  the  other,  the  existence  of  a  hidden  meaning, 
an  allegorical  significance.  We  are  familiar  with  such  a  con- 
ception, as  found,  both  implicit  and  explicit,  in  Dante;  it 
was  the  conception  Petrarch  adopted  and  expounded,  and 
Boccaccio  merely  gives  to  it  a  more  elaborate  expression.2 
Note,  however,  that  though  he  emphasizes  the  formal  side 
of  poetry,  the  essential  thing  is  in  his  eyes  the  content,  the 
allegory;  and  therefore  he  can  speak  of  his  own  ponderous 
prose  treatise  on  the  heathen  mythology  as  being  "  wholly 
poetical." 

It  is  possible  to  read  into  this  notion  of  poetic  allegory  a 
meaning  which  shall  conform  to  our  own  art-theories,  and 
such  an  interpretation  has  by  at  least  one  student  of  Boccaccio 
been  rather  taken  for  granted.3  But  Boccaccio  himself  had 
certainly  no  such  meaning  in  mind,  and  the  sense  in  which 
he  applied  the  word  "  symbolic  "  to  the  eclogues  of  Petrarch 
and  of  Virgil  is  not  the  sense  in  which  we  apply  it  to  Shake- 
speare's Lear  or  Sophocles'  (Edipus. 

'P.  361. 

2  Cf.  Inferno,  ix ;  Conviio,  n,  1 ;  Lett.  Can  Grande  della  Scala ;  Petrarch, 
Epist.  Her,  Fam.,  x. 

3  Burckhardt,  Renaissance  in  Italy,  Part  III,  Chap.  iv. 


336  ELISABETH   WOODBRIDGE. 

In  connection  with  his  art-theory,  two  other  passages  may 
be  mentioned  here,  which  occur  farther  on  in  the  book.  In 
one  he  speaks  of  the  poet  as  imitating  nature,  and  this 
expression  suggests  a  possible  trace  of  Greek  influence. 
But,  in  his  poetic  system,  the  word  imitation  must  apply 
merely  to  the  external  part  of  the  poem,  not  to  its  real  con- 
tent. Thus  he  might  say  that  Virgil  describes  bees,  and  in 
so  far  imitates  nature ;  but  he  would  also  say  that,  for  the 
discerning  reader,  Virgil  is  not  really  talking  about  bees  at 
all,  but  about  the  human  soul  or  the  divine  essence,  or  some 
other  metaphysical  topic.  This  "imitation  of  nature "  as 
Boccaccio  meant  it,  is  then  only  a  part  of  the  external  trap- 
pings of  poetry ;  it  is  quite  distinct  from  "  imitation "  as 
Aristotle  meant  it,  or  as  Sidney  meant  it,  or  as  we  may 
mean  it. 

Again  he  says,  speaking  of  Plautus  and  Terence:  "Although 
they  intended  nothing  beyond  what  the  letter  implies,  yet  by 
their  genius  they  describe  the  manners  and  words  of  various 
men  ....  and  if  these  things  have  not  actually  taken  place, 
yet  since  they  are  universally  valid]  they  could  have  taken 
place.1 

These  last  phrases  are  extremely  interesting  as  the  only 
ones  giving  any  hint  of  the  Aristotelian  conception  of  poetic 
universality — the  conception  which  was  two  hundred  years 
afterward  beautifully  restated  by  Sidney.  But  it  is  no  more 
than  a  hint.  Boccaccio  seems  to  have  no  idea  of  its  value, 
and  one  wonders  where  he  got  the  notion  from  at  all.  He 
was  not  the  man  to  have  arrived  at  it  by  himself,  and  it 
sounds  like  an  echo,  for  it  is  not  the  sort  of  idea  one  can  get 
hold  of  independently  and  let  go  again. 

After  denning  poetry,  Boccaccio  proceeds  to  discuss  its 
origin.  Assuming  that  its  first  appearance  was  in  the  relig- 
ious formularies  of  the  ancients  which  accompanied  their 
sacrificial  rites,  he  adduces  three  theories,  which  ascribe  its 
origin  respectively  to  the  Babylonian  fire- worshippers,  to  the 

1  P.  364.    The  Latin  is :  "  Cum  Communia  sint." 


BOCCACCIO'S   DEFENCE   OF   POETRY.  337 

Greeks,  and  to  the  Jews.  The  first  theory  he  rejects  uncon- 
ditionally, saying,  "yet,  without  more  weighty  evidence,  I 
shall  not  easily  believe  that  an  art  so  sublime  had  its  origin 
among  nations  so  barbarous  and  savage."1  But  between  the 
Greeks  and  the  Hebrews  he  hesitates,  and  at  last  shrewdly 
refers  the  decision  to  King  Hugo  himself,  suggesting,  how- 
ever, a  compromise  solution  which  would  make  Musaeus  and 
Moses  one  and  the  same  person.  Whether  the  resultant  from 
this  fusion  of  the  two  is  to  be  Hebrew  or  Greek,  he  does 
not  say. 

The  manner  of  its  origin  among  the  Greeks  he  describes  in 
part  as  follows  (the  passage  is,  by  the  way,  closely  paralleled 
in  one  of  Petrarch's  letters) : 2 

"At  length,  since  it  seemed  absurd  for  the  priests  to  offer 
the  sacrifice  to  the  deity  in  silence,  they  desired  to  have  forms 
of  words  drawn  up,  in  which  the  glory  and  might  of  the 
divinity  should  be  set  forth,  the  desire  of  the  people  be 
expressed,  and  their  prayers  be  offered  to  God  according 
to  their  human  necessities.  And  since  it  seemed  unfitting  to 
address  the  deity  in  the  same  way  that  one  would  speak  to  a 
rustic  or  a  servant  or  a  familiar  friend,  they  laid  upon  the 
priests  the  charge  of  devising  a  more  excellent  and  refined 
manner  of  speech.  Some  of  these  men — few,  indeed,  amongst 
whom  are  to  be  counted  Musaeus  and  Linus  and  Orpheus — 
filled  with  a  kind  of  inspiration  from  the  divine  mind,  com- 
posed strange  songs,  regulated  by  measure  and  time,  and 
gave  praise  to  God.  In  these  songs,  that  they  might  have 
greater  weight,  they  concealed  the  divine  mysteries  beneath 
a  noble  disguise,  wishing  that  the  venerable  majesty  of  such 
[mysteries]  should  not,  through  too  facile  comprehension  by 
the  vulgar,  fall  into  contempt.  The  art-product,  because  it 
seemed  wonderful  and  even  unheard  of,  was,  as  we  have  said, 
called  from  its  properties  [ab  effectu]  poetry,  or  poetes,  and 
those  who  composed  were  called  poets."3 

Boccaccio  next  considers  the  assertion  that  the  fables  of 
poets  are  to  be  condemned.  "  I  grant,"  he  says,  "  that  poets 

1  P.  362.  3  Epist.  Rer.  Fam.,  x.  3  Cap.  vin,  p.  362. 


338  ELISABETH    WOODBRIDGE. 

are  story-tellers,  that  is,  they  invent  fables,  but  this  seems  to 
me  no  more  disgraceful  than  it  is  for  a  philosopher  to  have 
framed  a  syllogism."1  To  begin  with,  he  goes  on  in  effect, 
the  word  fabula  comes  from  the  verb  for,  faris,  and  from  the 
same  stem  is  derived  the  word  confabulatio,  meaning  conver- 
sation. Now,  in  the  Gospel  of  Luke,  is  it  not  written  that 
the  disciples  went  toward  Emmaus,  and  Christ  came  to  them 
as  they  talked  together — "  Cum  confabularentur."  Now,  he 
concludes  triumphantly,  since  conjabulari  is  thus  used  with 
reference  to  the  disciples  themselves,  it  cannot  be  wrong,  and 
if  confabulari  is  not  wrong,  neither  isfabulari.2 

After  this  rather  astonishing  pun,  offered,  however,  in  per- 
fect seriousness,  he  returns  to  the  argument.  There  are,  he 
says,  three  kinds  of  fables  to  be  considered  :3 

I.  Those  in  which  disguise  entirely  lacks  truth,  as  in  the 
fables  of  JEsop,  where  the  animals  are  made  to  talk,  quite 
contrary  to  fact.    Aristotle  too  used  this  kind  of  fable. 

II.  Fables  where  the  true  and  the  false  are  intermingled. 
This  sort  is  sometimes  abused  by  the  comic  poets. 

III.  Fables  which  approximate  history,  and  are  thus  close 
to  the  truth,  though  divergent.     Of  this  sort  is  epic  poetry, 
and  the  comedies  of  Plautus  and  Terence. 

IV.  The  foolish  inventions  of  old  women,  not  worth  con- 
sidering. 

For  each  of  the  first  three  Boccaccio  now  presses  his 
strongest  argument — the  argument  from  Scripture  writing. 
The  first  sort  of  fables — like  JEsop's — will,  he  says,  be  found 
in  the  Old  Testament,  as  for  instance  in  Judges,  ix,  4-15, 
where  the  trees  of  the  forest  set  out  to  choose  for  themselves 
a  King.  The  second  makes  up  the  great  bulk  of  Ezekiel, 
Daniel,  and  Isaiah,  though  these  visions  of  theirs  are  called 
by  the  theologians  "  figures,"  not  fables.  The  third  sort  have 
no  less  a  warrant  than  the  parables  of  Christ  himself.  These 
three,  then,  cannot  be  condemned  without  condemning  the 
Scriptures  also. 

1  P.  363.  2  P.  364.  3  Pp.  364,  365. 


BOCCACCIO'S   DEFENCE   OF    POETRY.  339 

Passing  on  to  the  assertion  that  poets  conceal  no  meaning 
beneath  their  fables,  he  declares  this  simply  fatuous.  It 
is  well  known  how  deep  a  meaning  Virgil's  Bucolics  and 
Georgics  contain,  and,  to  come  down  to  modern  times,  every 
one  must  see  that  Dante  was  not  merely  a  poet,  but  a  pro- 
found philosopher  and  theologian.  Or  do  they  think  that 
"  when  the  poet  depicted  the  double-membered  Gryphon 
dragging  the  car  on  the  summit  of  Mount  Severus,  accom- 
panied by  the  seven  candlesticks  and  the  seven  nymphs,  with 
the  rest  of  the  triumphal  pomp  " — do  they  think  that  Dante 
did  this  merely  "to  show  that  he  knew  how  to  compose  rimes 
and  fables?5'1 

Or  "  who  will  be  so  insane  as  to  suppose  that  that  most 
illustrious  and  most  Christian  man,  Francisco  Petrarca  .... 
spent  so  many  vigils,  so  many  sacred  meditations,  so  many 
hours,  days,  and  years  ....  simply  in  depicting  Gallus 
demanding  his  pipe  of  the  Tyrrhene,  or  Pamphilus  and  Mitio 
contending  with  one  another  ?  "  No  one  would  be  so  insane  as 
to  think  this,  especially  none  who  had  read  his  other  writings, 
"  in  which  whatever  of  sanctity  and  penetration  can  be  con- 
tained in  the  breast  of  moral  philosophy  is  there  discerned 
with  so  much  majesty  in  the  words  that  nothing  can  be  ex- 
pressed for  men's  instruction  with  more  fulness,  nothing  with 
more  beauty,  nothing  with  more  ripeness,  nothing,  finally, 
with  more  sanctity."  And  he  adds,  with  a  humility  which 
I  think  was  genuine:  "I  might  in  addition  adduce  my  own 
bucolic  poem,  whose  meaning  I  well  know,  but  I  think  it  is 
better  to  omit  that,  because  I  am  not  yet  of  such  worth  that 
I  ought  to  mingle  with  illustrious  men,  and  because,  too, 
one's  own  productions  ought  to  be  left  to  the  judgment  of 
others." 2 

He  concludes  the  chapter  with  a  picturesque  turn  worthy 
of  Sidney,  and,  as  Professor  Scott  has  pointed  out,  recalling 
one  passage  of  the  Defense  : 

'P.  366.  «J6id. 


340  ELISABETH    WOODBRIDGE. 

"We  must  believe  that  it  is  not  only  illustrious  men  .... 
who  have  put  into  their  poems  profound  meanings,  but  that 
there  is  never  an  old  woman  doting  on  the  home  hearth  in 
the  watches  of  the  winter  nights,  who,  when  she  tells  tales  of 
Orcus  or  the  Fates  or  of  witches  —  about  which  they  oftenest 
make  up  their  stories  —  does  not,  as  she  invents  and  repeats 
them,  conceal  beneath  the  narrative  some  meaning,  according 
with  the  measure  of  her  narrow  powers  —  a  meaning  some- 
times by  no  means  to  be  derided,  through  which  she  wishes 
either  to  terrify  the  little  boys,  or  to  divert  the  girls,  or  to 
make  the  old  people  laugh,  or  at  least  to  show  forth  the 
power  of  fortune."  l 

There  follows  a  defence  of  the  poets'  love  of  solitude,2  and 
then  a  defence  of  the  alleged  obscurity  of  poets'  writings.3 
First,  as  usual,  he  argues  that  if  they  are  obscure,  so  too  are 
the  philosophers,  and  the  writers  of  the  Scriptures  ;  and  if 
this  concealment  of  the  truth  is  right  in  the  Bible,  which  is 
meant  for  the  multitude,  it  is  much  more  allowable  in  poetry, 
which  is  meant  for  but  few.  Moreover,  it  is  well  to  conceal 
precious,  truths,  lest  by  too  easy  accessibility  they  become 
cheap,  while  if  they  are  hidden,  those  who  really  seek  them 
can  always  find. 

In  answering  the  charge  that  poets  are  liars,  Boccaccio 
begins  by  defining  a  lie.  A  lie  is  an  untrue  statement  closely 
resembling  truth,  through  which  the  truth  is  repressed  and 
the  false  expressed,  and  this  for  the  purpose  of  injuring  or 
assisting  some  one.4  Now,  of  the  various  kinds  of  poetry, 
only  the  epic  approximates  the  truth  of  history,  but  this  form 
has  become  sanctioned  by  common  consent.  For  the  rest, 
and  as  a  general  answer,  it  may  be  said  that  the  poet  does  not 
deceive,  he  invents,  and  if  his  inventions  are  lies,  so  too  are 
those  of  John  in  the  Apocalypse.5  The  poets  did  indeed 
write  of  many  gods,  whereas  there  is  but  one  God,  but  these 
were  conventional  expressions.  Virgil,  for  instance,  knew  well 
there  was  but  one  God,  when  he  wrote  :  u  Jupiter  omnipotens, 


3  Cap.  xii.  *P.  370. 

8  Cap.  xi.  *  P.  369. 


BOCCACCIO'S   DEFENCE    OF   POETRY.  341 

precibus  si  flecteris  ullis,"  etc.  "  Omnipotens"  is  not  applied  to 
any  other  of  the  gods,  and  they  are  really  ''  considered  not  as 
gods,  but  as  members  of  God,  or  functions  of  the  divinity."  ] 
They  did  not  of  course  know  God  as  we  know  him,  but  this 
was  not  their  fault.  For  there  are  two  kinds  of  imtruth- 
tellers ;  those  who  tell  an  untruth  knowingly  and  advisedly, 
and  those  who  tell  it  unwittingly.  It  is  only  the  first  who 
are  properly  called  liars.  Of  those  who  tell  an  untruth  in 
ignorance,  there  are  again  two  kinds,  those  whose  ignorance 
is  excusable,  and  those  whose  is  not.  The  ignorance  of  the 
heathen  poets  is  certainly  pardonable,  for  they  had  received 
no  such  revelation  as  had  been  granted  to  the  Hebrews.  Or, 
at  least,  if  they  are  liars,  so  too  are  the  philosophers,  Aristotle 
and  the  rest. 

As  to  the  poets  being  the  "  apes  "  of  the  philosophers,2  this 
is  not  the  case.  Rather,  they  are  themselves  philosophers, 
the  essential  content  of  their  works  is  wholly  consonant  with 
that  of  philosophy,  although  their  methods  are  different.  The 
passage  here  is  worth  quoting : 

"  Moreover,  a  simple  imitator  in  no  wi&e  deviates  from  the 
footsteps  of  his  model,  and  this  is  by  no  means  perceived  in 
the  case  of  poets.  For,  allowing  that  they  do  not  deviate 
from  philosophic  conclusions,  they  do  not  reach  them  by  the 
same  path.  The  philosopher  disproves  by  syllogisms  what 
he  thinks  untrue,  and  by  the  same  method  he  proves  what  he 
maintains,  and  this  openly ;  whereas  the  poet,  what  he  has 
conceived  through  meditation,  he  conceals  with  as  much  art 
as  he  can,  beneath  the  veil  of  fiction,"3  etc. 

u  If,"  he  goes  on,  "  they  had  said  they  were  apes  of  nature, 
it  might  ....  have  been  endured  ....  since,  according  to  his 
powers  the  poet  tries  to  describe  in  lofty  song  whatever  is 
done  by  nature  herself.  ...  If  these  fellows  should  choose  to 
look,  they  will  see  the  movements  of  the  sky  and  of  the  stars, 
the  noise  and  sweep  of  the  winds,  and  the  noisy  crackling  of 
flames,  the  roar  of  the  waves,  the  height  of  mountains,  the 
shadows  of  the  woods,  the  course  of  the  rivers,  so  clearly 

1P.  370.  8  Cap.  xvn.  3P.  376. 


342  ELISABETH    WOODBRIDGE. 

described  that  the  things  themselves  would  seem  to  be  in  the 
few  letters  of  the  songs.  In  this  [sense]  I  will  admit  that 
poets  are  apes,  and  I  think  it  a  most  honorable  endeavor  to 
strive  by  art  after  that  which  nature  does  by  power." l 

The  chapter  closes  with  a  quick  turn  and  thrust  at  his 
opponents  too  characteristic  to  leave  out : 

"But  what  further?  It  would  be  better  for  them  [i.  e., 
the  maligners  of  the  poets]  and  for  us  with  them  to  act,  if 
possible,  so  as  to  be  apes  of  Jesus  Christ,  rather  than  to  scoff 
at  the  little  understood  work  of  poets."2 

In  the  next  chapter 3  he  deals  with  the  assertion  that  it  is 
a  deadly  sin  to  read  poetry.  Its  accusers,  putting  on  an  air 
of  sanctity,  cry  out :  "  Oh  ye  redeemed  with  divine  blood,  if 
there  is  in  you  any  piety  ....  cast  away  these  accursed  books 
of  poetry,  burn  them  in  the  flames,  and  consign  their  ashes 
to  the  winds.  Even  to  wish  to  look  upon  them  at  all  is  a 
deadly  crime,  they  instil  into  your  minds  fatal  poison,  they 
drag  you  into  Hell,  they  render  you  exiles  from  the  heavenly 
kingdom  to  al)  eternity." 4 

Thus,  says  Boccaccio,  thus  cry  the  poet-haters,  calling 
Jerome  to  witness,  who  said  that  "  the  songs  of  the  poets 
are  the  food  of  devils." 

He  replies  as  follows : — First,  admitting  for  the  sake  of 
argument,  that  the  heathen  poems  do  contain  untruth  and 
iniquity — what  of  that?  They  did  not  know  Christ  and  could 
only  speak  as  they  knew.  Neither  the  laws,  nor  the  prophets 
nor  the  ordinance  of  the  popes  forbid  us  to  read  them.  What 
follows  is  perhaps  worth  quoting,  for  its  quaintness  and  its 
allusions  to  contemporary  manners  and  contemporary  art : 

"  Yet  I  confess  it  would  be  far  better  to  study  the  sacred 
writings  than  these,  even  although  these  are  good  ;  I  think 
such  students  are  more  acceptable  to  God,  to  the  Pope,  and 
to  the  church.  But  we  are  not  all  nor  always  led  by  the 
same  passion,  and  so  sometimes  some  are  drawn  to  poetry. 
And  if  we  are,  ....  where  is  the  crime,  what  is  the  evil? 

llbid.  *Ibid.  s  Cap.  xvm.  4P.  376. 


BOCCACCIO^   DEFENCE  OF   POETRY.  343 

We  can  without  harm  listen  to  the  heathen  customs,  we  can, 
if  we  like,  receive  the  heathen  themselves,  show  them  hospi- 
tality, give  them  justice,  if  they  seek  it,  cement  friendship 
with  them  ;  only  to  read  the  writings  of  their  poets,  this, 
please  God,  we  are  by  these  learned  men,  forbidden.  The 
accursed  errors  of  Manichseus,  Arius,  and  Pelagius,  and  the 
rest  of  the  heretics — no  one,  as  we  know,  forbids  us  to  study 
these.  But  to  read  the  poets'  verses  is  horrifying,  as  these 
men  clamor, — nay,  it  is  a  deadly  sin.  We  may  gaze  at  the 
street  jugglers  ....  we  may  listen  to  the  actors  singing  at 
the  banquets  their  shameful  songs  ....  and  we  are  not  for 
this  haled  to  Hell.  But  to  have  read  the  poets,  does  this 
render  us  exiles  from  the  eternal  kingdom  ?  It  is  right  for 
the  painter  even  in  sacred  buildings  to  represent  the  three- 
headed  dog,  watching  the  threshold  of  Dis,  or  Charon  the 
boatman  of  Acheron  ploughing  the  fords,  the  Erinyes  girt 
with  serpents  and  armed  with  inflamed  countenances,  Pluto 
himself,  ruler  of  the  woful  realm,  imposing  torments  upon 
the  damned.  Yet  these  same  things  it  is  wrong  for  the  poets 
to  write  in  sounding  verse,  and  an  unpardonable  sin  to  read. 
The  painter  is  permitted  to  portray  in  the  halls  of  kings  and 
nobles  the  loves  of  the  gods  of  old,  the  crimes  of  men,  and  all 
sorts  of  such  stories,  and  no  decree  of  the  fathers  forbids  it, 
while  every  one  may  freely  gaze  upon  them.  Yet  they  will 
have  it  that  the  inventions  of  poets,  encrusted  with  literary 
ornament,  and  read  mainly  by  the  learned,  corrupt  men's  minds 
more  than  paintings  which  are  gazed  at  by  the  ignorant."1 

But  all  this  is  argued  on  the  supposition  that  the  poets  are 
really  iniquitous  in  their  content.  As  an  actual  fact  they 
are  not  so,  except  for  the  single  blot  of  heathendom.  For 
how  is  poetry  an  offender  more  than  philosophy?  Its  essen- 
tial content  is  the  same,  though  its  manner  is  different.  Why 
then  do  men  praise  Socrates  and  Plato  and  Aristotle,  and 
condemn  Homer  and  Hesiod  and  Virgil? 

As  for  Jerome's  words,  they  have  been  misunderstood. 
Jerome  himself  is  steeped  in  the  heathen  poets,  and  when  he 
censured  poets  he  meant  only  the  bad  poets.  Augustine,  too, 
knew  the  poets  well,  and  quotes  them,  while,  if  yet  higher 

1  P.  377. 


344  ELISABETH    WOODBRIDGE. 

authority  is  wanted,  did  not  Paul  quote  from  Menander  and 
from  Epimenides?  Finally:  "Did  not  our  Lord  and  Savior 
himself ....  use  Terence's  words,  in  addressing  the  prostrate 
Paul :  '  It  is  hard  for  thee  to  kick  against  the  pricks  ?'  Far 
be  it  from  me  to  think  that  Christ  the  Lord  borrowed  the 
words  from  Terence,  however  long  the  poet  lived  before 
the  words  were  spoken.  It  is  enough  for  me  that  this  suffices 
to  prove  my  point,  that  our  Savior  was  willing  that  some  of 
his  words  and  thoughts  should  have  been  spoken  from  the 
mouth  of  Terence,  that  it  might  be  evident  that  the  songs 
of  the  poets  are  by  no  means  food  of  the  devils." * 

Finally,2  his  opponents  bring  in  as  evidence  the  decision 
of  Plato  that  poets  ought  to  be  banished  from  the  cities. 
Plato's  authority,  he  admits,  is  indeed  great,  but  his  words 
have  been  misunderstood.  He  never  intended  to  banish 
the  good  poets — Homer,  Virgil,  Ennius,  Petrarch — but  only 
the  bad  ones,  of  whom  there  are  some.  For,  just  as  all 
liquors  have  their  dregs,  so  Philosophy  has  its  Cynics  and 
Epicureans,  so  Christianity  had  its  Donatists  and  other  heri- 
tics,  so  poetry  had  its  low  comic  poets.  But  it  is  not  right  to 
condemn  all  for  the  fault  of  a  few.  The  same  argument  is 
elaborated  with  regard  to  Boethius's  condemnation  of  poetry, 
and  finally  Boccaccio  concludes  with  an  exhortation  to  the 
accusers  of  poetry.  He  bids  them  study  it  and  try  to  under- 
stand it,  and  if  they  condemn,  to  condemn  with  discrimi- 
nation. He  concludes:  "Since,  therefore,  you  are  convinced 
that  poesy  and  the  poets  are  not  to  be  scorned,  nor  tossed 
aside,  but  cherished,  enough  has  been  said.  While  if  you 
obstinately  persist  in  your  madness,  one  must  bear  with 
you,  although  you  are  to  be  scorned,  for  nothing  could  be 
written  that  would  give  you  satisfaction." 3 

Such  is,  in  brief,  the  argument  of  the  treatise.  But  a 
brief  resume"  can  give  no  idea  of  certain  characteristics  of  the 
work — its  diffuseness,  its  lack  of  proportion,  of  discriminat- 

1  Pp.  378,  379.  8  Cap.  xix.  3  P.  384. 


BOCCACCIO'S   DEFENCE   OF   POETRY.  345 

ing  emphasis,  of  literary  style,  its  curious  intermingling  of 
the  superficial  and  the  essential.  In  all  these  particulars  the 
work  bears  the  stamp  of  a  second-rate  mind,  a  mind  not 
philosophically  creative,  a  mind  sensitive  indeed,  and  aspir- 
ing, but  without  the  power  to  think  fundamentally  and 
therefore  consistently. 

In  considering  his  treatise,  two  questions  at  once  occur  : 
First,  was  the  opposition  to  poetry  described  by  Boccaccio  an 
actual  fact  or  a  rhetorical  fiction  ?  Secondly,  how  far  is  his 
defense  original  and  how  far  taken  from  others? 

For  the  first,  it  is  certain  that  Boccaccio  invented  nothing. 
The  opposition  was  real  enough,  though  its  bitter  aggressive- 
ness had  been  slowly  dying  down  as  the  Christian  church 
grew  more  and  more  sure  of  its  power.  Philosophy  had 
already  been  freed  from  the  ban,  and  its  position  must  have 
been  indeed  unquestioned  for  Boccaccio  to  have  used  it  as  we 
have  seen  he  did,  along  with  the  Scriptures,  for  comparison 
with  poetry,  in  his  reiterated  reductio  ad  absurdum:  "if  the 
poets  are  thus  or  thus,  so  also  are  the  Scriptures,  so  also  are 
the  philosophers ;  if  you  condemn  one  you  condemn  all." 
But  poetry  was  longer  in  gaining  recognition.1  The  pagan 
poets  were,  it  is  true,  studied  in  the  schools  all  through  the 
Middle  Ages,  but  almost  exclusively  as  grammatical  exer- 
cises. Where  here  and  there  a  man,  such  as  Augustine,  knew 
and  cared  for  them  in  another  way,  it  was  always  somewhat 
distrustfully,  with  a  half  guilty  sense  that  he  was  yielding  to 
his  lower  nature. 

And  if  the  opposition  to  poetry  was  actual,  the  expression 
of  this  opposition  also  was  always  such  as  Boccaccio  has 
represented  :  it  was  always  asserted  that  the  poets  were  liars, 
that  their  writings  were  dangerous  and  subversive  of  religion 
and  morality;  always  St.  Jerome  was  cited,  and  Boethius,  and 
Plato.2 

1  Cf.  D.  Comparetti,  Virgil  in  the  Middle  Ages. 

»Cf.  A.  Hortis,  Studii  mile  Opere  Latine  del  Boccaccio,  p.  208. 

4 


346  ELISABETH    WOODBRIDGE. 

Passing,  then,  to  his  defence, — most  of  his  argument  appears 
to  have  been  given  before  him.  The  whole  system  of  allegori- 
cal interpretation,  both  of  Biblical  and  of  pagan  writing,  was 
fully  elaborated  between  the  fourth  and  the  sixth  centuries,1  and 
Boccaccio  had  this  part  of  his  argument  ready-made  for  him. 
The  idea  of  allegory  was  a  basic  principle  in  the  poetic  theory 
of  Dante  and  of  Petrarch,  while  the  specific  argument:  "If 
you  condemn  fables,  you  condemn  the  Scriptures,"  had  been 
explicitly  formulated  by  Petrarch.2  The  derivation  of  poesia 
from  the  Greek  poetes  is,  too,  found  in  Petrarch,3  and  there 
are  many  more  parallels — yet  more,  doubtless,  than  I  have 
myself  noticed — between  Boccaccio  and  Dante,  Boccaccio  and 
Petrarch,  and  Boccaccio  and  the  Church  Fathers.  To  Aris- 
totle and  Plato  he  was,  notwithstanding  his  familiar  use  of 
their  names,  very  slightly  indebted.  He  had  probably  read 
little,  and  that  little,  got  at  second  or  third  hand,  he  had  not 
understood,  as  is  sufficiently  evident  from  his  misconceptions 
of  Plato. 

So  much  for  his  relations  to  others.  The  point  in  which, 
says  Hortis,4  he  was  original,  in  which  he  was  in  advance 
even  of  Petrarch,  was  in  his  firm  and  consistent  support  of 
poetry  as  an  independent  art,  separate  from  religion  on  the 
one  hand,  and  philosophy  on  the  other.  It  was  not  that 
his  love  for  it  was  deeper  than  was  others' — we  may  doubt 
whether  it  was  as  deep  or  as  instinctive — but  that  it  was 
deliberate  and  self-approving.  He  writes,  indeed,  as  if  he 
were  in  complete  agreement  with  Augustine  and  Jerome,  as 
if  he  were  their  expounder  to  an  audience  which  had  mis- 
understood them.  In  reality,  it  was  he  who  misunderstood, 
who  did  not,  or  for  the  purposes  of  his  argument  would  not 
see,  that  he  and  they  were  a  world  apart,  that  the  difference 
between  Augustine's  half  guilty  sympathy  with  art  and  his 
own  placid  acceptance  of  art  on  the  one  hand,  and  religion 

1  Cf.  Comparetti ;  Voigt,  Die  Wiederbelebung  des  Classischen  Alierthums,  I, 
p.  30  ;  Hortis,  op.  ciL,  p.  209. 

2  Epist.  Rer.  Fam.,  x.  3  Ibid.  *  Pp.  210,  211 ;  219. 


BOCCACCIO'S   DEFENCE   OF   POETRY.  347 

on  the  other,  was  the  difference  between  mediaeval  ism  and 
the  renaissance.  There  is  a  wide  gulf  between  the  ascetic 
who  spoke  of  the  "  sweet  vanity "  of  Homer's  fictions,  who 
remembered  with  sorrow  the  time  when  "  the  wooden  horse 
lined  with  armed  men "  and  "  the  burning  of  Troy "  and 
"Creusa's  shade  and  sad  similitude"  "were  the  choice  specta- 
cle of  my  vanity,"1 — between  such  a  man  and  the  man  who 
conld  write  thus  complacently :  u  I  do  not  therefore  say  that 
the  priest  or  the  monk  or  any  other  churchman  bound  to  the 
service  of  God  ought  to  make  his  breviary  of  less  account 
than  Virgil ;  but  when  he  has  with  devotion  and  tears  said 
the  sacred  office,  it  is  not  a  sin  against  the  Holy  Spirit  to 
look  at  the  pure  lines  of  a  poet."2 

Thus  Boccaccio  asserted  consistently  and  deliberately  the 
legitimacy  of  art  as  a  part  of  life;  doing,  says  Hortis,  what 
Abelard,  with  all  his  boldness,  had  not  dared  to  do, — 
what  even  Petrarch  had  wavered  in  asserting.  Dante,  indeed, 
seems  to  have  held  this  position,  but  Boccaccio  was  certainly 
the  first  to  give  it  ordered  expression. 

It  is  inevitable  that  we  should  compare  this  treatise  with 
the  greatest  work  of  its  kind  in  our  own  language — Sidney's 
Defense  of  Poesy.  Such  a  comparison  was  suggested  some 
time  ago  by  Professor  Scott,3  and  a  number  of  correspond- 
ences were  noted  between  the  two  works,  tending  to  show 
that  Sidney  had  read  Boccaccio.  The  antecedent  proba- 
bility that  Sidney,  about  to  write  his  Defense,  should  have 
examined  all  the  previous  treatises  of  the  kind,  does  indeed 
seem  great,  and  one  or  two  of  the  parallels  given  by  Professor 
Scott  are  striking.  They  are,  I  think,  hardly  conclusive. 
For,  to  establish  a  proof  that  a  given  parallelism  indicates 
conscious  or  unconscious  reminiscence,  it  is  necessary  to  show 
that  it  could  probably  not  have  come  about  in  any  other 
way — unless  indeed  we  know  that  one  author  had  read  the 

1  Augustine,  Confessions,  I,  XIH. 

8  Boccaccio,  Comento,  Lez.  in. 

3  Modern  Language  Notes,  Vol.  vi,  p.  97  f. 


348  ELISABETH    WOODBRIDGE. 

other.  Now,  in  Sidney's  case  we  do  not  know  this,  and  from 
what  we  have  seen  of  Boccaccio's  relations  to  his  predecessors 
and  contemporaries,  it  would  seem  quite  possible  that  later 
writers  should  appear  to  echo  most  of  his  ideas,  without  hav- 
ing read  him.  There  is  not  space  to  consider  the  parallel 
passages  singly,  but  in  all  of  them  there  is,  I  think,  no  more 
reason  for  assuming  Boccaccio  as  the  source  than  for  assum- 
ing Dante,  or  Petrarch,  or  Richard  de  Bury,  or  Horace,  or 
the  mediaeval  tradition  as  embodied  in  the  writings  of  the 
church  fathers  who  formed  a  common  source  for  both  Sidney 
and  Boccaccio;  while  there  are  several  reasons  against  assum- 
ing Boccaccio  as  their  source. 

After  all,  however,  what  gives  to  Boccaccio's  treatise  its 
great  interest  is  not  its  being  a  hypothetical  source  for  a  few 
of  Sidney's  phrases — a  spiritual  influence  it  could  never  have 
been,  even  if  Sidney  had  read  and  reread  the  volume  from 
his  boyhood  on,  because,  in  Amiel's  phrase,  "  only  like  can 
be  affected  by  like,"  and  Boccaccio  and  Sidney  had  spiritually 
almost  nothing  in  common.  Boccaccio's  interest  for  us  lies 
rather  in  the  fact  that  he  comes  at  a  very  early  point  in 
modern  poetic  theory — that  he  is  near  enough  to  the  Middle 
Ages  to  share  in  their  conception  of  the  symbolic  nature  of 
art,  yet  far  enough  out  of  them  to  be  free  from  their  narrow 
view  of  the  relation  between  art  and  morality;  not  modern 
enough  and  variously  sympathetic  enough  to  have  entered 
into  the  fulness  of  Greek  thought,  yet  conscious  that  it 
offered  great  and  new  things.  As  we  have  seen,  he  held  to 
the  mediaeval  theory  of  allegorical  symbolism,  and  he  had 
just  a  glimpse  of  the  Greek  notion  of  nature-imitation,  but 
there  was  no  attempt  to  fuse  the  two — Boccaccio's  was  not 
the  mind  to  make  such  a  fusion.  Such  a  mind,  however, 
Sidney's  was,  and  his  poetic  philosophy,  grounded  in  a 
knowledge  of  Greek  thought  which  if  not  complete  was 
sympathetic,  is  an  Aristotelian  modification  of  Plato  and  a 
poet's  rendering  of  Aristotle ;  his  Defense  is  one  of  the  last 
of  a  series  which  begins  with  Plato. 


BOCCACCIO'S   DEFENCE   OF   POETRY.  349 

It  is  as  a  member  of  this  series  that  Boccaccio's  treatise  is 
of  surpassing  interest:  as  one  in  the  series  which  includes 
Plato  and  Aristotle,  Cicero  and  Horace,  Lucretius  and  Quin- 
tilian  and  Longinus,  Vida  and  Scaliger  and  Boileau  and 
Lessing,  Sidney  and  Milton  and  Burke  and  Shelley.  And  if 
his  is  a  lesser  name,  his  utterances  are  none  the  less  worthy 
of  note,  as  those  of  a  sincere  if  not  a  thorough  thinker,  of 
one  who  spoke  the  thought  of  an  age  in  many  ways  germinal, 
an  age  without  which  Sidney's  rare  nature  could  not  have 
found  the  expression  it  did  find. 

ELISABETH  WOODBRIDGE. 


XI.— THE  LANGUAGE  OF  MODERN  NORWAY. 

Norway  regained  her  political  independence  in  1814.  Since 
then  efforts  have  been  made  to  establish  a  language-standard, 
truly  national  and  Norwegian.  The  different  theories  set 
forth,  the  arguments  advanced,  the  practical  plans  submitted, 
the  struggle  still  going  on  between  the  opposing  factions, 
present  a  linguistic  condition,  in  many  ways  similar  to  the 
one  existing  in  modern  Greece,  so  well  described  by  Prof. 
Wheeler  in  a  recent  issue  of  the  American  Journal  of  Phi- 
lology. In  this  short  paper  it  is  possible  only  to  state,  in 
the  briefest  way,  the  facts  as  I  have  found  them,  regarding 
this  question  of  language  in  Norway. 

To  better  appreciate  the  force  and  character  of  the  different 
linguistic  movements  in  modern  Norway  it  is  of  importance 
to  know  the  history  of  the  country,  and  to  note  particularly 
certain  facts. 

The  Swedish  scholar  Noreen  says  in  his  "  History  of  the 
Scandinavian  Languages"  in  Paul's  Grundriss  (2nd  ed.,  1897) 
that  the  old  Norwegian  literature  was  far  behind  the  con- 
temporaneous Icelandic  literature  in  quantity  as  well  as  in 
quality.  While  this  is  true,  every  Norwegian  holds  it  to  be 
equally  true  that  the  language  of  Norway  and  that  of  her 
colony  Iceland,  at  the  time  in  question  (1200  to  1350),  were 
substantially  the  same,  in  spite  of  dialectal  differences,  care- 
fully and  accurately  shown  in  Noreen's  scholarly  treatise; 
and  that  this  common  tongue  was  an  idiom  distinct  from 
the  contemporaneous  language  of  either  Denmark  or  Sweden. 
In  other  words,  the  old  Icelandic  and  Norwegian  language, 
called  by  the  common  name,  Norroent  Mdl,  and  the  Norroen 
literature  (created  by  conditions  peculiar  to  Norway  and  Ice- 
land alone)  are  the  exclusive  historical  property  of  Norway 
and  Iceland,  while  Denmark  and  Sweden  have  no  share  in 
them. 

350 


THE  LANGUAGE  OF  MODERN  NORWAY.       351 

The  use  of  the  old  Norwegian  tongue  for  literary  purposes 
ceased  about  the  year  1350.  The  old  language  continued  to 
live,  but  when  there  was  no  longer  a  literary  standard  it  split 
up  into  a  number  of  dialects.  In  the  first  half  of  the  seven- 
teenth century  these  dialects  had  developed  essentially  the 
forms  they  now  have. 

When  the  Norwegians  again  appeared  as  writers  (shortly 
before  1600),  they  used  the  Danish  language.  The  authors 
born  in  Norway,  in  spite  of  certain  peculiarities  betraying 
their  origin,  learned  to  write  the  Danish  language  as  fluently 
as  the  Danes  themselves.  The  Norwegian  Holberg  even 
became  the  father  of  modern  Danish  literature,  and  gradually 
the  Danish  grew  to  be,  not  only  the  language  of  polite  society 
in  Norway,  but  of  all  those  who  professed  to  have  any  knowl- 
edge of  books,  especially  in  the  cities  and  towns. 

Verner  Dahlerup  has  recently  published  an  excellent  his- 
tory of  the  Danish  language.  The  following  facts  may  be 
noted: — As  early  as  1100  began  the  development  of  the 
Danish  language  which  gradually  changed  it  from  a  language 
with  many  case  inflections,  to  its  modern  form,  in  which  the 
order  of  the  words,  and  not  the  inflections,  indicate  the  syn- 
tactical connection.  This  early  period  is  also  marked  by  the 
monophthongization  of  original  diphthongs,  retained  to  this 
day  in  Norwegian  dialects.  From  1350  to  1700  the  Danish 
language  was  greatly  influenced  by  the  German.  Numerous 
Low-German  words  were  completely  absorbed  so  that  they 
are  not  now  felt  to  be  of  foreign  origin. 

What  were  the  linguistic  conditions  in  Norway  in  1814 
when  the  country  again  became  an  independent  kingdom? 
The  literary  language  was  Danish.  The  speech  of  the  cultured 
classes  was  based  on  the  literary  language.  The  peasants,  or 
about  three-fourths  of  the  population  of  Norway,  spoke  vari- 
ous dialects,  all  developed  from  the  old  Norwegian-Icelandic. 
By  far  the  greater  part  of  the  vocabulary  of  these  dialects  is 
that  of  the  old  language,  although  a  number  of  the  old  words 


352  GISLE   BOTHNE. 

have  been  dropped  and  many  words,  in  later  times,  have  been 
adopted  from  the  literary  or  Danish  language. 

Dr.  H.  S.  Falk,  a  few  days  ago  appointed  professor  of 
Germanic  philology  at  the  University  of  Christiania,  has  in 
the  preface  to  his  Oldnorsk  Lcesebog  given  an  "  Outline  of  the 
historical  development  of  the  Norwegian  language."  He 
gives  a  full  account  of  the  forms  of  the  different  dialects  of 
Norway.  We  note  here  the  following  facts. 

Comparing,  in  a  general  way,  the  dialects  with  the  parent 
speech,  the  Norwegian-Icelandic,  we  find  that  the  dialects 
differ  from  the  Old  Norwegian  in  their  simpler  inflections. 
Case-endings  have  almost  entirely  disappeared  in  adjectives, 
and  in  nouns  they  are  found  only  to  a  limited  extent ;  nomi- 
native and  accusative  are  identical  in  form,  a  particular  form 
for  the  genitive  is  very  rare,  the  dative  is  used  almost  wholly 
in  the  definite  form.  Different  personal  endings  in  the  verbs 
are  not  found.  The  old  J>  has  been  changed  to  t,  except  in 
pronominal  words  where  the  weaker  accent  has  caused  the 
change  to  d;  •$  has  been  dropped,  except  in  one  or  two  places 
where  the  letter  has  retained  its  original  sound  or  is  spoken 
like  d;  h  is  silent  before  j\  hv  is  spoken  as  kv  in  the  Western 
dialects,  as  v  in  the  Southern ;  n  has  been  dropped  almost 
universally  in  final,  unaccented  syllables ;  i  before  r  has 
changed  to  y,  otherwise  before  a  single  consonant  to  e. 

Comparing,  briefly,  the  Norwegian  dialects  and  the  literary 
Danish  language,  we  "find  the  chief  differences  to  be  the 
following : — 

Original  diphthongs  have  been  retained  :  au  (Danish  6),  ei 
(D.  e\  oy  (D.  6) ;  original  ja  and  jo  (D.  y)  are  retained.  In 
final  syllables  we  often  find  a,  sometimes  o  (D.  e) ;  original 
p,  ij  k  are  retained  (except  in  a  Southwestern  district),  where 
Danish  has  6,  c?,  g  •  $  (D.  d)  has  been  dropped.  Strong  verbs 
have  umlaut  in  the  present;  weak  verbs  have  three  conjuga- 
tions (in  the  present  tense) ;  nouns  have  three  genders ;  a 
genitive  form  is  not  used,  as  a  rule ;  but  a  dative  form  occurs. 
Relative  adverbs  (D.  hvoraf,  hvortil,  etc.)  are  not  used  as  a 


THE  LANGUAGE  OF  MODERN  NORWAY.       353 

rule.  In  respect  to  the  vocabulary  the  difference  is  very 
considerable. 

The  dialects  may  conveniently  be  divided  into  three  groups : 
Western,  Eastern,  and  Southern.  The  Western  group  shows 
the  closest  relationship  to  the  mother  language  and  is  farthest 
removed  from  the  Danish.  The  Eastern  (including  also 
the  Northern  part  of  Norway)  has  much  in  common  with 
the  Southern  group  (the  districts  around  Christiania-fjord), 
although  the  latter  has  distinct  peculiarities  of  its  own,  which 
show  the  transition  to  the  literary  Danish  language.  In  the 
Southern  group  strong  verbs  have  no  umlaut  in  the  present, 
all  verbs  have  a  present  ending  in  -er,  there  is  no  dative 
form,  etc. 

It  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  Norwegian  people  is  a 
people  of  peasants,  principally.  It  is  not  possible  here  to 
explain  in  detail  how  it  happened,  but  the  fact  remains  that 
the  constitution  of  Norway,  adopted  the  17th  of  May,  1814, 
recognizes  this  to  the  extent  that  it  makes  the  peasantry,  the 
country  population,  absolute  rulers  of  the  country  by  grant- 
ing them  two-thirds  of  the  representatives  of  the  legislative 
body,  while  the  cities  have  only  one-third  of  the  members. 

Before  1814  the  Norwegians  called  the  language  and  litera- 
ture of  the  united  kingdoms  Danish,  but  after  1814  the  same 
language,  wherein  their  constitution  was  written,  was  called 
Norwegian,  and  the  literature  the  two  nations  had  had  in 
common  was  called  Dauo-Norwegian.  This  change  of  names 
was  the  first  step  taken  to  meet  the  demand  for  a  new  national 
language  that  could  answer  the  requirements  of  the  new-born 
nation.  Everything  had  to  be  Norwegian  in  Norway,  and  so 
far  all  were  agreed.  But  when  the  consequences  of  this  posi- 
tion became  apparent,  when  practical  steps  to  apply  this 
theory  to  the  actual  conditions  of  the  country  were  taken, 
then  also  the  division  of  the  people,  as  made  by  the  previous 
history  of  the  country,  showed  itself. 

The  pioneer  in  the  movement  to  build  up  a  national 
language  was  Heurik  Wergeland  (died  1845),  the  famous 


354  GISLE   BOTHNE. 

writer  and  chief,  whose  banner  was  followed  by  all  the  forces 
that  were  striving  for  the  growth  of  what  was  Norwegian. 
Wergeland  published  his  Reformation  of  the  Norwegian  Lan- 
guage, in  which  he  advocated,  not  only  a  change  in  the  name, 
but  the  building  up  of  a  real  national  language  by  the  adop- 
tion of  words  from  the  dialects.  He  also  prophesied  that  a 
new  national  language  would  be  created  before  the  expiration 
of  the  nineteenth  century. 

His  efforts  met  with  the  fiercest  opposition,  and  the  coarsest 
invectives  were  hurled  against  him  and  his  followers  by  the 
self-styled  intelligent  party,  called  by  his  friends  the  Dano- 
maniacs.  Wergeland  was  not  discouraged  by  this.  Still  his 
attempts  did  not  prove  successful,  because  in  his  time  the  dia- 
lects were  not  really  known ;  they  had  not  been  investigated. 

But  soon  after  the  death  of  Wergeland,  two  men  appeared 
whose  names  are  inseparably  connected  with  the  language 
movements  of  modern  Norway.  These  men  were  Xnud 
Knudsen  (1812  to  1895)  and  Ivar  Aasen  (1813  to  1896). 
Outside  of  the  lines  laid  down  by  these  two  leaders,  there 
have  been  two  other  movements  in  Norway,  which,  however, 
played  a  comparatively  unimportant  part  and  will  be  men- 
tioned only  in  passing.  Akin  to  the  political  Scandinavism, 
or  movement  for  a  closer  political  union  between  the  three 
Scandinavian  kingdoms,  there  was  a  linguistic  Scandinavism. 
A  result  of  this,  in  part  at  least,  was  the  meeting  at  Stock- 
holm in  1869,  where  representative  scholars  from  the  three 
countries  tried  to  agree  on  certain  reforms  in  spelling  and 
orthography  in  order  to  bring  the  languages  nearer  together. 
The  results  of  this  meeting  were  of  no  consequence.  Another 
unimportant  movement  was  the  one  advocated  by  the  radical 
Fjortoft,  who  wanted  every  Norwegian  writer  to  use  his 
native  dialect. 

The  two  principal  movements,  however,  are  those  of  Knud- 
sen, called  the  Dano-Norwegian  Maalstrcev,  and  of  Aasen,  the 
New  Norwegian  or  "Landsrnaal."  There  are  several  points 
of  similarity  between  the  two  reformatory  movements.  Both 


THE  LANGUAGE  OF  MODERN  NORWAY.       355 

the  leaders  were  sprung  from  the  peasant  class,  the  "  people." 
Both  agreed  that  the  literary  or  Danish  language  put  many 
obstacles  in  the  way  of  the  people,  and  made  it  difficult  for 
the  masses  to  advance  in  knowledge  and  culture.  Both  were 
intensely  national.  Both  devoted  their  long  lives  to  the  one 
idea  that  possessed  them.  Both  made  more  sacrifices  than  it 
commonly  falls  to  the  lot  of  a  man  to  make,  for  the  realiza- 
tion of  what  was  dear  to  their  hearts.  Both  of  them,  or 
rather  the  movements  they  represented,  have  conquered  the 
fierce  opposition  they  met  at  the  outset  to  the  extent  that 
the  bitterness  which  made  a  real  discussion  impossible  has 
ceased.  When  the  champions  closed  their  eyes  in  death,  a 
year  or  two  ago,  the  Norwegophobia  of  the  conservatives  had 
disappeared.  All  parties  and  factious  acknowledged  their 
great  services.  No  man  whose  opinion  is  really  important 
any  longer  opposes  the  growth  of  a  national  language,  in  one 
form  or  another.  The  leader  of  the  conservatives,  Prof.  J. 
Storm,  the  well-known  scholar,  practically  accepts  the  ideas 
of  Knudsen,  although  he  severely  criticizes  the  apparent 
weaknesses  of  both  systems — he  also  wants  a  Norwegian 
language. 

While  Knudsen  never  laid  down  arms  till  he  died,  Aasen 
early  retired  from  active  participation  in  the  struggle,  but  his 
cause  has  been  taken  up  and  championed  by  a  number  of 
younger  and  very  active  men.  Bjornson  says  of  the  latter : 
"  Ivar  Aasen  is  the  name  of  that  treasure-digger  who  hunted 
up  and  repolished  all  the  coins  of  the  old  tongue,  otherwise 
left  unheeded  among  the  peasantry.  On  that  work  he  spent 
his  life  quietly  and  faithfully,  now  and  then  humming  a  little 
song,  a  patriotic  hymn,  a  mood  of  nature,  a  rule  of  wisdom." 

Aaseu  took  his  starting-point  in  the  dialects.  He  studied 
them  ;  and  the  result  of  his  study  was  his  Grammar  of  the 
Norwegian  Popular  Language  (1848)  and  his  Norwegian 
Dictionary  (1850).  These  books  have  later  been  revised,  and 
a  large  supplement  to  the  dictionary  (containing  about  40,000 


356 


GISLE   BOTHNE. 


words)  was  published  by  Hans  Ross  in  1890  and  the  follow- 
ing years. 

It  was  in  1853  that  Aasen  created  his  "Landsmaal"  or 
norm,  founded  on  what  he  called  "the  best  dialects."  By 
these  he  understood  those  that  had  best  preserved  the  old 
Norwegian  forms,  namely,  the  Western  ;  and  he  proposed 
that  this  "Landsmaal"  be  made  the  language  of  the  country. 

This  pseudo-language  (Lundell  in  Paul's  Grundriss)  is 
different  from  any  spoken  dialect.  It  has  been  severely 
attacked  because  it  is  an  artificial  language,  because  it  is  a 
language  "  that  does  not  exist."  To  this  its  champions  coolly 
reply  that  the  question  of  its  existence  is  of  minor  importance. 
The  present  leader,  Garborg,  says  "  that  the  dialects,  whose 
common  literary  representative  the  "Landsmaal"  is,  do  exist, 
and  the  dialects  have  the  not  unimportant  quality  of  being 
Norwegian,  in  fact,  the  only  thing  truly  Norwegian  that 
Norway  has." 

For  a  detailed  account  of  Aasen's  "Landsmaal"  we  should 
consult  Falk's  "Outline" — referred  to  above — pp.  xxxvii  seq. 
In  the  "  Landsmaal "  certain  original  consonants,  not  found 
in  any  spoken  dialect,  have  been  replaced  ;  for  original  $ 
Aasen  substituted  d-  t-has  been  added  in  neuters,  original  n 
added  at  the  end  of  certain  words,  rn  is  written  for  the  spoken 
nny  etc.  Of  the  different  forms  of  a  word  the  one  closest  to 
the  parent  speech  is  always  selected.  In  the  declensions  of 
nouns,  the  dative  form  is  always  omitted  in  the  singular  and, 
as  a  rule,  in  the  plural. 

Nouns  are  declined  as  follows  : 


Singular.  Plural. 

Indefinite.  Definite.  Indefinite.    Definite. 


Strong  Masculine, 
Weak  Masc., 
Strong  Fern., 
Weak  Fern., 
Neuter. 


Slav 

Staven 

Stavar 

Stavarne 

Time 

Timen 

Timar 

Timarne 

Skaal 

Skaali 

Skaaler 

Skaalerne 

Gata 

Gata 

Gator 

Gatorne 

Aar 

Aaret 

Aar 

Aari. 

THE   LANGUAGE   OF   MODERN   NORWAY.  357 

Verbs  end  in  the  infinitive  in  a;  strong  verbs  have  umlaut 
in  the  present;  weak  verbs  are  conjugated  as  follows: 

Inf.          Pres.  Imp.  Perf.  Part. 

Kasta  kastar  kasta(de)  kastad  (neuter — at) 

Doma  domer  domde  domd    (     "         domt) 

Telja  tel  talde  tald      (     "         talt) 

Spyrja  spyr  spurde  spurd   (     "         spurt). 

It  is  impossible  here  to  dwell  upon  the  development  of 
this  movement ;  but  though  it  is  to  many  a  surprising  fact, 
still  it  is  indisputable  that  the  movement  has  constantly 
grown  in  strength,  particularly  since  1880  cr.,  and  it  is 
interesting  to  note  its  present  strength.  Let  me  present  a 
few  facts. 

The  foremost  writer  in  this  language  now  is  Garborg,  and 
his  voice  reaches  as  many  of  the  people  in  Norway  as  that  of 
any  other  writer.  Around  this  literary  leader  is  a  numerous 
array  of  older  and  younger  men  of  talent  who  write  books 
and  work  for  the  cause  with  enthusiastic  zeal.  Although 
they  sometimes  quarrel  among  themselves,  and  although  they 
do  not  all  have  exactly  the  same  language-standard,  a  fact  to 
which  their  keen  critic,  Storm,  has  frequently  called  atten- 
tion, they  have  great  faith  in  their  cause;  and  only  a  few 
months  ago  J.  E.  Sars,  the  great  historian,  declared  that  their 
victory  is  certain. 

All  the  adherents  of  the  "  Landsmaal "  are  closely  identi- 
fied with  the  ruling  political  party  that  last  fall  elected  more 
than  two-thirds  of  the  members  of  the  legislature,  and  that 
in  a  few  weeks  will  have  complete  possession  of  the  govern- 
ment. To  judge  by  the  concessions  hitherto  granted  these 
reformers,  it  is  fair  to  assume  that  their  demands  for  legisla- 
tive enactments  will  be  acceded  to.  Since  1866  there  has 
existed  in  Bergen  a  society,  u  Vestmannalaget,"  and  since  1868 
a  similar  society  in  Christiania,  "  Det  Norske  Samlag,"  whose 
object  it  is  to  publish  or  to  assist  in  publishing  books  in  the 


358  GISLE   BOTHNE. 

new  Norwegian  language.  These  books  are  sold  at  a  merely 
nominal  price.  The  societies  have  a  large  membership,  and 
many  of  the  members  are  leading  men  in  all  ranks  of  society. 
I  have  seen  the  statement  lately  that  there  are  in  Norway  at 
present  nearly  two  hundred  young  people's  societies  where 
this  language  is  used  almost  exclusively.  Another  society 
in  Christiania  is  collecting  money  to  establish  a  gymnasium 
(college)  where  this  language  is  to  be  used  exclusively.  There 
is  also  on  foot  a  movement  to  build  a  theatre  where  Danish 
will  be  excluded.  An  influential  journal  in  this  new  language 
was  to  be  published  as  a  daily  paper  beginning  January  1st, 
1898.  Besides  this,  there  is  a  number  of  other  papers,  among 
them  two  monthly  magazines.  The  New  Testament  has  been 
published,  and  the  Old  Testament  is  being  translated.  A 
number  of  ministers  of  the  gospel  have  lately  appealed  to  the 
Bible  Society  to  have  the  Bible,  translated  into  the  "  Lands- 
maal,"  circulated  especially  in  Western  Norway,  on  the  ground 
that  young  people  there  prefer  to  read  books  in  "Land.smaal." 
All  the  books  needed  in  the  common  schools,  and  most  of 
those  needed  in  the  higher  institutions,  have  been  published 
in  this  new  language.  The  legislature  has  annually  appro- 
priated a  certain  sum  for  this  purpose.  By  legislative  enact- 
ment it  is  left  to  the  school  district  to  decide  what  language 
is  to  be  used  in  the  district.  In  the  higher  schools  a  certain 
amount  of  literature  in  this  language  is  required.  Now 
the  advocates  of  the  "  Landsmaal "  demand  that  the  higher 
schools  shall  require  from  all  a  grammatical  knowledge  of  it. 
But  there  is  strong  opposition  from  the  Dano-Norwegian 
camp.  Professor  Storm  has  predicted  the  death  of  this  new 
Norwegian  movement.  The  great  Bjornson,  who  accepted 
the  theories  of  Knudsen  in  1858,  has  in  his  usual  vigorous 
viking-style  crossed  swords  with  Garborg  on  this  question, 
and  he  also  looks  for  its  early  collapse.  Ibsen  ridiculed  the 
movement  in  Peer  Gynt;  and  Knudsen  directed  his  warlike 
attacks  just  as  much  against  this  new  Norwegian  as  against 
the  conservatives,  who,  in  a  great  measure,  have  been  won 


THE  LANGUAGE  OF  MODERN  NORWAY.       359 

over  to  his  ideas.  The  opponents  of  the  "  Landsmaal " 
deplore  the  literary  separation  from  Denmark,  which  would 
take  place,  if  this  movement  should  carry  the  day.  The 
movement  they  think  is  an  effort  to  call  to  life  a  dead  past. 
It  is  true  that  the  advocates  of  the  "  Landsmaal "  overlook 
the  importance  of  the  historical  development  of  the  last  four 
or  five  hundred  years;  and  Knudsen,  particularly,  main- 
tained, as  an  argument  that  recommended  his  own  language 
reform,  that  the  adoption  of  the  "  Landsmaal "  would  cause 
an  incurable  schism  in  the  country  which  might  result 
most  deplorably. 

Kuudsen  took  his  stand  on  what  was  historically  given. 
He  started  from  the  literary  (Danish)  language,  but  he  main- 
tained that,  to  suit  the  conditions  of  Norway,  first,  the 
language  spoken  by  the  educated  Norwegian  should  also  be 
the  rule  for  the  written  form  of  the  language  in  Norway,  and 
secondly,  for  the  many  foreign  words,  particularly  those  of 
German  origin,  purely  Norwegian  terms  should  be  substituted. 
For  this  end  he  struggled  all  his  years.  His  numerous  works 
treat  almost  exclusively  of  this;  his  principal  work  is  Unorsk 
og  Norsk.  The  critics  have  called  attention  to  the  fact  that 
he  was  inconsistent  in  carrying  out  his  first  principle.  He 
sometimes  writes  words  in  a  more  "  Norwegian  "  form  than 
they  are  spoken  by  the  cultured  people.  He  has  also  been 
criticised  for  coining  many  new  words  to  take  the  place  of 
those  borrowed  from  the  hated  foreign  idioms.  In  1892  he 
founded  a  society,  the  "  Orthographical  Society,"  whose  "  aim 
is  to  work  for  a  more  simple  and  more  phonetic  orthography, 
in  keeping  with  the  ever-growing  Norwegianism  in  writing 
and  speaking." 

On  the  whole,  his  language,  the  Dano-Norwegian,  or  as 
Storm  wishes  it  to  be  called,  the  Norwegian,  is  now  used 
by  all  the  Norwegian  writers  outside  of  the  "Landsmaal" 
writers,  although  in  the  different  authors,  according  to  the 
subject  treated,  and  the  training  and  the  idiosyncrasies  of 
the  writer,  there  are  to  be  found  all  the  shades  from  a  some- 


360  GISLE   BOTHNE. 

what  close  proximity  to  the  Danish  to  a  language  very  much 
like  the  (l  Landstnaal "  or  the  dialects.  Of  the  best  known 
authors  Bjornson  writes  a  language  that  pleased  the  heart  of 
Knudsen,  while  Ibsen  is  more  conservative,  although  his 
Norwegianisms  are  so  numerous  that,  as  Storm  says,  no  Dane 
would  call  his  language  Danish. 

In  comparing  Danish  with  Dano-Norwegian,  or  Norwe- 
gian, to-day,  we  find  that  Norwegian  authors  use  more  than 
seven  thousand  words  not  used  by  the  Danes,  and  that  there 
are  very  considerable  differences  in  the  written  form  of  the 
same  words,  in  orthography,  inflections,  pronunciation,  and 
in  the  syntax. 

Ih  presenting  a  few  of  the  principal  characteristics  of 
the  Dano-Norwegian,  or  Norwegian,  I  shall  speak  first  of  the 
vocabulary. — Words  existing  only  in  the  written  language 
(not  used  in  speech  by  anybody  in  Norway)  are  " banished" — 
as  der  (rel.  pron.),  hin,  etc.  A  number  of  Norwegian  words, 
not  found  in  Danish,  are  admitted  (hei,  greier,  stel,  stabbur, 
etc.).  For  Danish  words  are  substituted  Norwegian  words 
having  the  same  meaning  (fjos  =  D.  kostaldj  granne  =  nabo, 
fosterfar  =  plciefader,  erte  =  tirre).  Danish-German  words, 
beginning  with  an-,  be-,  er-,  and  others,  ending  in  -hed,  -haftig, 
-en,  etc.,  are  not  in  good  repute. 

The  Norwegian  forms  of  words,  when  current  in  polite 
speech,  are  substituted  for  the  corresponding  Danish  (stakkar 
=  D.  Stakkel,  tistel  =  Tidsel,  ncesle  =  Ncelde,  myr  =  Mose, 
sop  =  Svamp,  naken  =  nogen,  svepe  =  svobe,  etc.).  Here  is 
where  the  difference  between  Norwegian  writers,  in  point  of 
language,  is  most  apparent. 

The  orthography  is  based  on  the  Norwegian  pronunciation. 
Original  p,  t,  k — in  Danish  changed  to  b,  d,  g — are  used  by 
many  Norwegian  writers.  It  is  only  a  question  of  time  when 
all  will  use  them.  There  are  also  many  minor  differences. 

Inflections. — In  the  plural,  nouns  of  the  common  gender 
add  -er  (hester,  bcenker,  elver)  •  with  the  definite  (postpositive) 
article  the  ending  is  -ene  (hestene,  etc).  In  "  Landsmaal "  neuters 


THE   LANGUAGE   OF  MODERN   NORWAY.  361 

have  no  plural  ending;  this  is  often  imitated  in  Dano-Norwe- 
gian.  Many  authors  inflect  the  verbs  in  this  way :  elske,  elsked, 
elsket — tro,  trodde,  trod(d) — gi,  ga,  git  (D.  give,  gav,  givet). 

Syntax. — The  tendency  is  not  to  use  adverbs,  composed  of 
pronouns  and  adverbs  (instead  of  hvorqfis  used  hvad — a/,  etc.). 
The  noun  is  often  used  in  the  definite  form  where  Danish  has 
the  indefinite  (den  vesle  jenten  =  D.  den  lille  Pige,  samme 
dagen  —  samme  Dag).  The  possessive  pronoun  is  often  used 
after  the  noun  (staven  min  =  min  Stav,  datter  hans  =  ham 
Datter). 

The  difference  in  pronunciation  is  very  considerable.  P. 
Groth  has  treated  this  subject  very  fully  in  his  Danish  and 
Dano- Norwegian  Grammar  (Heath  &  Co.).  So  has  Poestion 
in  his  Norwegische  Sprache. 

The  struggle  between  the  advocates  of  the  two  movements 
has  been  long  and  bitter,  and  nobody  can  foretell  the  final 
outcome.  No  doubt,  both  languages  will  for  a  long  time  be 
used  side  by  side,  and  a  not  very  distant  future  will  perhaps 
find  a  solution  satisfactory  to  both  parties.  There  are  even 
now  signs  of  this.  The  Dano-Norwegians  will  maintain 
the  historical  connection  with  the  literary  language  of  their 
immediate  ancestors,  but  at  the  same  time,  they  encourage 
the  growth  of  the  Norwegian  branches  engrafted  on  the 
Danish  stem.  The  New  Norwegians  will  use  that  artificial 
language,  the  "Landsmaal,"  as  a  compromise  for  the  many 
dialects  of  the  fjords  and  valleys,  the  direct  descendants  of 
the  old  classical  Norwegian.  The  adherents  of  the  "  Lands- 
maal" claim  that  their  language  is  Norwegian,  and  although 
it  is  as  yet  not  a  "  Kultursprache,"  they  declare  that  they 
will  make  it  the  standard  idiom.  The  Dano-Norwegian  is  a 
"  Kultursprache,"  but  hitherto  it  has  not  been  Norwegian 
enough.  It  is  probable  that  it  will  gradually  take  a  more 
decided  Norwegian  coloring.  Two  brief  extracts  from 
"  Landsmaal "  and  (Dano-)  Norwegian,  chosen  at  random, 
with  translations  into  Danish,  may  prove  to  be  of  interest  in 
this  connection. 
5 


362 


GISLE   BOTHNE. 


"  Landsruaal." 

Fordomar  og  trongromde 
Skilningar  kunna  stundom 
finnast  hjaa  andre  en  berre 
Bonder ;  og  vist  er  det,  at 
del  raaa  raotast  med  Grunnar 
og  betre  Upplysningar  kvar 
som  heist  dei  finnast. 

Men  det  vilja  me  tenkja, 
at  der  alltid  vil  finnast  Folk, 
som  kunna  skyna  og  samtyk- 
kja  desse  Setningarne, 

at  det  rette  heimelege  Maal 
i  Landet  er  det,  som  Land- 
sens  Folk  hever  ervt  ifraa 
Forfedrom,  fraa  den  eine  .ZEtti 
til  den  andre,  og  som  nu  um 
Stunder,  til  Traass  fyre  all 
Fortrengsla  og  Vanvyrding, 
endaa  hever  Grunnlag  og 
Emne  til  eit  Bokmaal  lika 
so  godt  som  nokot  av  Grann- 
folka-Maali ; 

at  den  rette  Medferd  med 
detta  heimelege  Maalet  er,  at 
det  maa  verda  uppteket  til 
skriftleg  Hsevding  i  si  full- 
komnaste  Form,  at  det  maa 
verda  reinskat  fyre  dei  verste 
framande  Tilsetningar,  aukat 
og  rikat  (beriget)  ved  Avleid- 
ing  av  si  eigi  Rot  og  etter 
sine  eigne  Reglar,  og  soleides 
uppreist  og  adlat  ved  eit  ver- 
digt  Bruk ; 


Danish. 

Fordomme  og  bornerede 
Forestillinger  kan  undertiden 
findes  hos  andre  end  bare 
B0nder;  og  vist  er  det,  at 
de  maa  rn0des  med  Grunde 
og  bedre  Oplysninger,  hvor- 
somhelst  de  findes. 

Men  det  vil  vi  tanke,  at 
der  altid  vil  findes  Mennesker, 
som  kan  forstaa  og  erktere 
sig  enige  i  disse  Ssetninger, 

at  det  rette,  hjemlige  Sprog 
i  Landet  er  det,  som  Landets 
Folk  har  arvet  fra  ForfaB- 
drene,  fra  den  ene  Slsegt  til 
den  anden,  og  som  nu  for 
Tiden,  tiltrods  for  al  For- 
traBngsel  og  Ringeagt,  endnu 
har  Grundlag  og  Betingelser 
for  at  blive  et  Skriftsprog 
ligesaa  godt  som  noget  af 
Nabofolkenes  Sprog; 

at  den  rette  Behandling  af 
dette  hjemlige  Sprog  er,  at 
det  maa  blive  optaget  til 
skriftlig  Dyrkning  i  sin  mest 
fuldkomne  Form,  at  det  maa 
blive  renset  for  de  vaBrste 
fremmede  TilsaBtninger,  0get 
og  beriget  ved  Afledning  fra 
sin  egen  Rod  og  efter  sine  egne 
Regler  og  saaledes  oph0iet  og 
adlet  ved  en  vserdig  Benyt- 
telse ; 


THE    LANGUAGE   OF   MODERN   NORWAY. 


363 


og  at  denne  Hsevdingi  maa 
vera  baade  til  Gagn  og  ^Era 
fyre  Landsens  Folk,  med  di 
at  detta  er  den  bedste  Maate 
til  at  maalgreida  (udtrykke) 
det  heimelege  Laget  i  Hugen 
og  Tan  ken  aat  Folket,  og  til 
at  fremja  Kunnskap  og  Vit- 
hug  (elder  den  einaste  rette 
og  sanne  Kultur)  og  raed  det 
same  til  at  visa  Verdi,  at 
ogsaa  detta  Folket  hever  Vit 
til  at  vyrda  det  gode,  som 
det  hever  fenget  til  Arv  og 
Heimanfylgja  fraa  uminne- 
lege  Tider. 

(Aasen.) 


og  at  denne  Dyrkning  maa 
vsere  baade  til  Gavn  og  jEre 
for  Landets  Folk  derved,  at 
dette  er  den  bedste  Maade  til 
at  udtrykke  det  nationale  i 
Folkets  Sind  og  Tanke  og 
til  at  fremme  Kundskab  og 
Videlyst  (eller  den  eneste  rette 
og  sande  Kultur),  og  med 
det  samme  at  vise  Verden,  at 
ogsaa  dette  Folk  bar  For- 
stand  til  at  vserdssette  det 
gode,  som  det  bar  faaet  i 
Arv  og  "Medgift"  fra  u- 
mindelige  Tider. 


Norwegian  (Dano- Norwegian). 

Her  var  gild  furtiskog  og 
stilt ;  da  ban  mot  bakken 
matte  stoppe  med  sangen, 
blev  det  jo  stusle.  Jo  linger 
ban  kom  op  i  skogen,  jo  ta3t- 
tere  blev  den  ogsa,  sneen  la 
fastere,  sten  og  lyngtuer  skot- 
tet  nysgaBrrige  op  av  den  som 
dyr;  og  sa  small  det  her  og 
knatt  det  der,  og  sommetider 
skreg  det;  en  skraBmt  stor- 
fugl  floi  op  med  forfa3rdelige 
vingebask,  gutten  sokte  svet- 
tende  efter  Oles  fotefar  for 
at  fa  folge;  ra3dselen  fra  igar 
var  straks  over  ham.  Bare 


Danish. 

Her  var  en  praBgtig  Fyr- 
reskov  og  stille;  da  ban  mod 
Bakken  maatte  slutte  med 
Sangen,  blev  det  jo  bedr0ve- 
ligt.  Jo  tangere  ban  kom  op 
i  Skoven,  desto  tsettere  blev 
den  ogsaa.  Sneen  laa  fastere, 
Sten  og  Lyngtuer  skottede 
nysgjerrige  op  af  den  som 
Dyr;  og  saa  smseldte  det  her 
og  knitrede  det  der,  og  som- 
metider skreg  det ;  en  skrsemt 
Tiur  (capercailzie)  fl0i  op 
med  forfserdelige  Vingeslag. 
Drengen  s0gte  svedende  efter 
Oles  Fodspor  for  at  faa 


364 


GISLE    BOTHNE. 


ban  turde  laegge  pa  sprang, 
bare  skogen  vilde  slutte !  I 
den  uforsvarlige  lange  stilhed 
oven  pa  storfuglen  ksente  ban 
tilsist,  at  kom  der  yrlitet  gran 
til,  sa  kunde  ban  bli  gal.  Og 
den  bulveien,  ban  skulde  igsen- 
nem  ; — langt  fraemme  stirret 
ban  in  under  dens  hole  sorte 
sider;  de  sa  ut  til  at  kunne 
klappe  igaBn  over  ham ;  nogen 
forfserdelige  treer  hang  oven- 
over  og  kek  lurende  ner. 
Dengang  ban  aBnnelig  gik  in 
i  den,  var  ban  den  fineste 
lille  myre  i  skogen;  bare  det 
stod  stille  s°  laange,  eller  bare 
ingen  deroppe  vilde  boje  sig 
ner  og  ta  ham  i  luggen,  eller 
la  sig  falle  like  foran  ham, 
eller  bak  ham,  eller  gi  sig  til 
at  blase  pa  ham. .  .  .  Han  gik 
med  stive  ojne  som  en  sovn- 
gaBnger,  furu-rotterne  drog  sig 
krokete  og  barkete  nerover 
Iejr-va3ggen,  og  de  var  le- 
vende;  men  det  lot  ban,  som 
ban  ikke  a3nset. 

(Bjornson.) 


F01ge;  Rsedslen  fra  igaar  var 
strax  over  ham.  Bare  ban 
turde  give  sig  til  at  10be,  bare 
Skoven  vilde  slutte !  I  den 
ufbrsvarlig  lange  Stilhed  efter 
Tiuren  kjendte  ban  tilsidst, 
at,  hvis  der  kom  en  bitte 
liden  Smule  til,  saa  kunde 
ban  blive  gal.  Og  den  Hul- 
vei,  ban  skulde  igjennem ; — 
langt  fremme  stirrede  ban 
ind  under  dens  h0ie  sorte 
Sider ;  de  saa  ud  til  at  kunne 
slaa  sig  sammen  over  ham ; 
nogle  forfaBrdelige  Traeer  bang 
ovenover  og  kigede  lurende 
ned.  Da  ban  endelig  gik  ind  i 
den,  var  ban  den  tyndeste  lille 
Myre  i  Skoven ;  bare  det  stod 
stille  saa  leenge,  eller  bare 
ingen  deroppe  vilde  b0ie  sig 
ned  og  gribe  ham  i  Haaret 
eller  lade  sig  falde  lige  foran 
ham,  eller  bag  ham  eller  give 
sig  til  at  blsese  paa  ham.  .  .  . 
Han  gik  med  stive  0ine  som 
en  S0vngjsenger.  Fyrrerod- 
derne  drog  sig  krogede  og  bar- 
kede  nedover  Lervseggene,  og 
de  var  levende ;  men  det  lod 
ban,  som  ban  ikke  a3ndsede. 


GISLE  BOTHNE. 


XII.— DE  ORTU  WALUUANII:  AN  ARTHURIAN  RO- 
MANCE NOW  FIRST  EDITED  FROM  THE  COT- 
TONIAN  MS.  FAUSTINA  B.  VI.,  OF  THE  BRITISH 
MUSEUM. 

I. 

INTRODUCTION. 

The  following  edition  of  the  De  Ortu  Waluuanii  is  based 
on  an  exact  transcript  of  the  Cottonian  MS.  (only  with  reso- 
lution of  the  usual  contractions)  which  was  made  for  me  by 
Mr.  D.  T.  B.  Wood,  of  the  Department  of  Manuscripts  of  the 
British  Museum,  during  the  months  of  August  and  September, 
1897.  I  have  endeavored  to  print  the  Latin  text  as  it  appears 
in  this  transcript  with  as  little  change  as  possible.  It  has 
occasionally  been  necessary,  however,  to  supply  words  omitted 
in  the  MS.,  yet  obviously  required  by  the  sense,  and  wherever 
this  has  been  done  the  inserted  words  will  be  found  enclosed 
in  brackets.1  In  the  case  of  corrupt  or  simply  misspelt  forms 
I  have  placed  the  MS.  readings  at  the  bottom  of  the  page  and 
incorporated  the  emended  forms  (italicized)  into  the  text.  Only 
in  the  case  of  the  words  sublimis  and  pugna  and  their  deriva- 
tives I  have  retained  the  consistent  spellings  of  the  MS. — 
suttimis,  pungna,  and  the  like. 

I  trust  that  the  real  interest  of  its  incidents,  not  less  than 
their  rather  singular  character,  which  seems  to  have  struck 
both  Sir  Frederic  Madden  and  M.  Gaston  Paris,  will  justify 
the  publication  of  the  following  romance.  Save  in  the  con- 
cluding episodes,  perhaps,  it  suffers  from  a  want  of  vital 
connection  with  the  great  body  of  Arthurian  tradition ;  but 
this  drawback  is  partly  offset  by  its  freedom  from  the  accumu- 
lation of  banal  adventures  and  the  consequent  prolixity  which 

1  The  same  means  has  been  adopted  for  indicating  letters  and  syllables 
which  are  omitted  in  the  MS. 

365 


366  J.  D.    BRUCE. 

is  the  bane  of  the  Arthurian  romances.  The  writer,  despite 
his  barbarous  style,  has,  on  the  whole,  shown  no  little  judg- 
ment in  the  selection  of  his  materials. 

In  the  beginning  it  had  been  my  purpose  to  offer  a  literal 
translation  of  the  Latin  text.  It  soon  became  evident,  how- 
ever, that  the  reproduction  in  English  of  every  rhetorical 
extravagance  of  the  original  would  seriously  detract  from  the 
interest  of  the  story,  and  I  have  accordingly  contented  myself 
with  a  paraphrase  which  nevertheless  adheres  closely  to  the 
sense  of  the  Latin  text.  The  only  part  of  the  original  not 
represented  at  all  in  the  paraphrase  is  that  which  contains  the 
burlesque  description  of  the  mode  of  preparing  Greek  fire. 
This  I  have  omitted  as  having  no  essential  connection  with 
the  story. 

II. 

SOURCES. 

The  Latin  romance,  De  Ortu  Waluuanii,  which  now  appears 
for  the  first  time  in  printed  form,  has  not  entirely  escaped 
the  notice  of  students  of  Arthurian  legend,  but  the  meagre 
abstracts  of  Madden  and  Ward,  through  which  alone  a  knowl- 
edge of  the  story  has  been  hitherto  possible  to  those  who  did 
not  have  access  to  the  Cottonian  MS.,1  give  a  very  inadequate 
idea  of  its  contents,  as  will  be  recognized,  I  believe,  on  read- 
ing the  full  text  as  published  below.  Accordingly,  apart 
from  the  writers  just  referred  to,  I  have  noted  amidst  all 
the  formidable  mass  of  Arthurian  literature  only  one  passage 
dealing  with  the  De  Ortu  Waluuanii — namely,  in  the  treatise 
on  the  Round  Table  Romances 2  by  M.  Gaston  Paris,  whose 
comprehensive  studies,  as  will  be  seen,  have  contributed  some- 
thing to  lighten  up  the  question  of  the  sources  of  this  romance, 
as  of  so  many  other  forms  of  the  matidre  de  Bretagne. 

1  The  Cottonian  MS.  is  believed  to  be  unique.     For  a  description  of  this 
MS.  see  Ward's  Catalogue  of  Romances  in  the  Department  of  Manuscripts  in  the 
British  Museum.     London,  1883-93 ;  Vol.  I,  p.  374. 

2  Hisioire  Litteraire  de  la  France,  xxx,  p.  31,  note. 


DE   ORTU   WALUUANII. 


367 


The  earliest  mention  of  the  De  Ortu  Waluuanii  of  which  I 
am  aware  occurs  in  the  Introduction  (p.  x,  note)  to  Sir  Frederic 
Madden's  well-known  edition1  of  the  English  romances  relat- 
ing to  Gawain,  published  for  the  Bannatyne  Club  in  1839, 
where  it  is  referred  to  as  one  of  "  five  Latin  romances  still 
existing  in  manuscript."  Still  further  on  in  the  same  Intro- 
duction (pp.  xxxiii  f.)  we  have  a  more  extended  notice  of  the 
romance,  made  up,  however,  for  the  most  part,  of  an  abstract 
of  the  story.  This  abstract,  though  brief,  is  fuller  than  that 
which  was  subsequently  published  in  Ward's  Catalogue.  As 
I  shall  have  occasion  later  on  to  refer  to  this  second  passage 
in  Madden's  Introduction,  I  will  give  it  here  in  full  with 
the  exception  of  the  abstract  now  rendered  unnecessary  by  the 
publication  of  the  text.  His  words  are  as  follows  : 

"  One  more  romantic  composition  relative  to  Gawayne 
remains  to  be  noticed,  which  is  the  more  remarkable  from 
its  being  quite  distinct  from  the  established  fictions  of  the 
Round  Table.  This  composition  may  be  assigned  to  the  early 
part  of  the  fourteenth  century  and  is  written  in  Latin ;  but 
whether  derived  "  from  floating  Celtic  traditions  "  or  from  an 
Anglo-Norman  original,  must  be  left  to  conjecture.  It  is 
entitled  De  Ortu  Waluuanii,  nepotis  Arturi  and  is  a  strange 
tissue  of  romantic  fiction,  embellished  with  many  rhetorical 
flourishes.  .  .  .  Such  is  the  brief  outline  of  this  singular 
story  in  which  we  can  clearly  trace  some  few  particulars 
referable  to  Geoffrey  of  Monmouth,  but  worked  up  in  a 
manner  that  would  bear  comparison  with  the  extravagant 
fictions  of  a  much  later  era." 

The  notice  in  Ward's  Catalogue,  i,  375  f.,  consists  simply 
of  a  very  meagre  abstract  of  the  story  with  a  transcription  of 
the  opening  and  concluding  sentences  and  a  reference  to  the 
passages  in  Sir  Frederic  Madden's  Introduction. 

1  Syr  Gawayne :  A  Collection  of  Ancient  Romance- Poems  by  Scotish  and  Eng- 
lish Authors  Relating  to  that  Celebrated  Knight  of  the  Round  Table,  etc.,  by  Sir 
Frederic  Madden.  London,  1839. 


368  J.    D.    BRUCE. 

Finally  the  note  in  M.  Gaston  Paris's  above-mentioned 
treatise  (p.  31)  contains  besides  a  brief  outline  of  the  story 
based  on  Madden  and  Ward,  to  whom  he  refers,  the  follow- 
ing statements  with  regard  to  this  "singuliere  composition 
latine :"  "Ce  roman  parait  une  simple  amplification  des  don- 
n6es  de  Gaufrei  de  Monmouth ;  il  repose  sans  doute  sur  un 
original  fran9ais:  on  en  retrouve  les  traits  principaux  dans  le 
roman  en  prose  de  Perceval  ou  Perlesvaus  (pp.  252,  253)  et 
dans  une  redaction  encore  inedite  du  Merlin  en  prose,  con- 
servee  dans  le  manuscrit  francais  337." 

This  note  of  M.  Paris  is  valuable  as  offering  definite  indi- 
cations of  the  relation  of  the  Latin  romance  to  other  forms  of 
Arthurian  legend,  but  there  is  an  evident  lapsus  calami  in  its 
last  clause  and  the  view  expressed  in  the  first — to  say  nothing 
for  the  moment  of  the  rest — will,  I  believe,  be  seriously  modi- 
fied after  a  perusal  of  the  text  as  given  in  full.  The  MS.  337 
of  the  Fonds  frangais  of  the  Bibliotheque  Nationale,  as  is 
well-known,  contains  not  a  Merlin  but  a  Livre  d'Artus,  an 
analysis  of  which  by  E.  Freymond  has  appeared  in  the  Zeit- 
schrift  fur  franzosische  Spraehe  und  Literatur,  xvn,  21  ff.  I 
presume,  however,  that  M.  Paris  had  in  mind  the  story  con- 
cerning the  infancy  of  Mordrec  which  is  found  in  the  Huth 
Merlin,1  I,  204  ff.,  and  which  evidently  stands  in  some  rela- 
tion, more  or  less  close,  to  the  similar  story  with  which  our 
romance  opens.  If  this  correction  is  made,  the  above  note 
may  be  accepted  as  furnishing  us  with  an  indication  of  two 
undoubted  parallels  to  the  story  of  the  birth  of  Gawain  in 
the  Latin  romance.  Considering  the  great  variety  of  adven- 
ture and  incident  which  the  romance  as  a  whole  exhibits,  it 
is  perhaps  too  much  to  say  that  in  these  parallel  stories  are 
found  again  "  the  principal  features  "  of  the  De  Ortu  Walu- 

1  Merlin,  Roman  en  Prose  du  Xllle  sieck  Edited  for  the  Socie*te*  des 
Anciens  Textes  Franjais,  by  G.  Paris  and  J.  Ulrich.  2  vols.  Paris, 

MDCCCLXXXVI. 

In  Malory's  Morte  Darthur  (Book  I,  Chap.  27)  there  is  a  story  concern- 
ing Mordred's  birth  similar  to  that  in  the  Huth  Merlin. 


DE   ORTU   WALUUANII.  369 

warm,  but  they  certainly  contain  some  of  its  most  interesting 
features.  In  order  to  determine  the  nature  of  the  relation  of 
these  kindred  stories  to  the  portion  of  our  romance  which 
narrates  the  circumstances  of  the  birth  of  its  hero,  and,  further- 
more, to  fix,  if  possible,  the  source  from  which  all  these  versions 
ultimately  derive,  I  shall  present  in  full  the  passage  concerned 
in  the  Perlesvaus,  adding  an  abstract  only  of  the  longer  and 
less  important  passage  in  the  Huth  Merlin.  The  passage  in 
the  Perlesvaus1  reads  as  follows  : 

"  De  Perceval  se  test  ici  li  contes  et  dist  que  li  rois  Artus 
et  misires  Gauvains  out  pris  congie  a  Perceval  et  a  touz  ceus 
del  chastel.  Li  rois  li  lest  le  bon  destrier  que  il  consuit  avec 
la  corone  d'or.  II  out  taut  chevauchi6,  antre  lui  et.mon- 
seingnor  Gauvain,  qu'il  sont  venu  an  I  gaste  chastel  ancian 
qui  se"oit  an  une  forest.  Li  chastiax  fust  moult  biaux  et 
moult  riches  s'il  fust  hantez  de  janz ;  mes  il  n'i  avoit  c'un 
provere  aucian  et  son  clerc  qui  vivoi[en]t  la  dedanz  de  lor 
labor.  Li  rois  et  misires  Gauvains  i  herbergierent  la  nuit, 
et  Fandemain  entrerent  en  une  moult  riche  chapele  qui  la 
dedanz  estoit,  pour  oir  la  messe,  et  estoit  pointe  environ  de 
moult  riche  color  d'or  et  d'azur  et  d'autres  colors.  Les 
images  estoient  moult  beles,  qui  pointes  i  estoient  et  les 
figures  de  ceus  por  qui  les  figures  furent  festes.  Li  rois  et 
misires  Gauvains  les  esgarderent  volentiers."  Quant  la  messe 
fu  dite,  li  prestres  vint  a  ens  et  lor  dist:  "Seingnor,  fet-il,  ces 
escritures  sont  moult  beles  et  cil  qui  fere  les  fist  est  moult 
loiax  et  si  ama  moult  la  dame  et  son  fill  pour  qui  il  le  fist 
fere.  Sire,  fet  li  prestres,  ce  est  unes  estoires  vraies  " — "  De 
qui  est  li  estoires,  biax  Sires?"  feit  li  rois  Artus.  "D'un 
prodome  vavasor  qui  cist  recez  fu,  et  de  monseingnor  Gauvain 
le  neveu  le  roi  Artus  et  de  sa  m£re — "  Sire,"  feit  li  prestres, 
"misires  Gauvains  fu  93,  dedanz  nez  et  levez  et  bautissiez, 
einsint  come  vos  le  povez  la  veoir  escrist :  et  ot  non  Gauvain 

1  Perceval  le  Gallois  ou  le  Conte  du  Graalpublie  cPaprh  les  manuscrits  originaux 
par  Ch.  Potvin — Premiere  Partie :  Le  Roman  en  Prose.  Mons.  MDCCCLXVI, 
pp.  252  f. 


370  J.    D.    BRUCE. 

pour  le  seingnor  de  cest  chastel  qui  tel  non  avoit.  Sa  mere, 
qui  Pot  del  roi  Loth,  ne  vost  mie  qu'il  fust  s6u ;  ele  le  mist 
en  I  moult  bel  vessel,  si  pria  au  prodome  de  93,  dedanz  qu'il 
le  portast  la  ou  il  fust  periz,  et,  se  il  ce  ne  feissoit,  ele  le  feroit 
fere  a  autrui.  Icil  Gauvains,  qui  loiax  estoit  et  ne  vost  mie 
que  cil  anfes  fust  p6riz,  fist  seeler  a  son  chevez  qu'il  estoit  del 
real  lignage  d'une  part  et  d'autre,  et  si  mist  or  et  argent  pour 
1'anfant  norir  a  grant  plente,  et  coucha  desour  1'enfant  une 
moult  riche  pane.  II  1'enporta  an  I  moult  lointeingne  pais  ; 
puis,  vint  a  un  ajornant,  an  I  petit  pleisseiz  ou  il  avoit  I 
moult  prodome  manant ;  il  le  bailla  a  lui  [et]  a  sa  moillier 
et  lor  dist  qu'il  le  gardassent  et  norissisent  bien,  qu'il  lor  en 
poroit  venir  granz  biens.  Li  vavasors  s'en  retorne  arieres  et 
cil  garderent  1'anfant  et  le  norirent  tant  que  il  fust  grant ; 
puis  le  menerent  a  Rome  a  Papostele,  si  li  mostr&rent  les 
lestres  se^lSes.  Li  aposteles  les  vit  et  sot  que  il  estoit  fiuz  le 
roi.  II  an  ot  pitie,  si  le  fist  garder  et  li  fist  antendre  qu'il 
estoit  de  son  lignage;  puis,  fu  esleuz  a  estre  anperiere  de 
Rome.  II  ne  le  voloit  estre,  por  ce  que  1'an  ne  le  reproschast 
sa  nessance  que  1'an  li  avoit  celee  avant.  II  s'an  parti,  et 
puis  fu  il  98,  dedanz.  Or  dist  1'an  qu'il  est  uns  des  meillors 
chevaliers  del  moude,  si  n'osse  nus  cest  chastel  s6oir,  pour  la 
doutance  de  lui,  ne  ceste  grant  forest  qui  ci  est  anviron. 
Quar,  quant  li  vavasors  fu  morz  de  93,  dedanz,  si  leissa  a 
monseingnor  Gauvain,  son  filleull,  cest  chastel,  et  moi  an  fist 
garde  tresqu'a  cele  hore  que  il  revandroit."  Li  rois  regarde 
monseingnor  Gauvain,  et  le  vit  bronchir  vers  terre  de  ver- 
gongne :  "  Biax  nies,  ne  soiiez  pas  honteus,  quar  autretel  me 
povez  reprochier;  ce  fu  grant  joie  de  vostre  nessance,  et 
moult  doit  1'an  aimer  le  leu  et  anorrer,  ou  si  bons  chevaliers 
come  vos  estes  naqui."  Quant  li  prestres  entendi  que  c'estoit 
misires  Gauvains,  si  an  feit  moult  grant  joie  et  an  est  touz 
honteus  de  ce  qu'il  li  a  einsint  recordee  sa  nessance.  Mes  il 
li  dist :  "  Sire,  moult  n'an  devez  avoir  blame,  quar  vos  fustes 
confermez  en  la  loi  que  Dex  a  establie  et  an  loiaute  de 
mariage  del  roi  Loth  et  de  vostre  mere.  Iceste  chosse  set 


DE   ORTU   WALUUANII. 


371 


bieu  li  rois  Artus  et  Damedex  estoit  aourez  quant  vos  estes 
ca  dedanz  venuz." 

The  story  of  the  Huth  Merlin,  which  has  been  referred  to 
above,  runs  as  follows :  In  consequence  of  a  prophecy  of 
Merlin's  that  at  a  certain  time  a  child  would  be  born  who 
was  destined  to  be  the  cause  of  the  destruction  of  the  kingdom 
of  Logres,  King  Arthur  commands  that  all  the  children  born 
in  his  realm  about  this  time  should  be  sent  to  him  as  soon  as 
possible  after  their  birth,  to  be  shut  up  in  his  towers,  so  that 
he  might  take  measures  to  prevent  the  fulfilment  of  the  fatal 
prophecy,  the  parents,  however,  not  being  aware  of  his  design. 
When  Mordrec  is  born,  his  presumptive  father,  King  Loth, 
in  obedience  to  Arthur's  command,  has  his  son  put  in  a  cradle 
and  conveyed  to  a  ship  with  a  great  escort  of  ladies  and 
knights  who  are  to  accompany  him  to  King  Arthur's  court. 
On  the  way,  however,  the  vessel  suffered  shipwreck  and  all 
on  board  perished,  except  the  child,  who  is  borne  in  his  cradle 
safely  to  shore  by  the  sea.  A  fisherman  who  is  out  fishing  in 
a  little  boat  discovers  the  child  and  carries  him  home.  He 
infers  from  his  rich  apparel  that  he  is  of  noble  extraction,  and 
with  his  wife's  approval  decides  to  take  him  to  his  lord,  the 
father  of  Sagremor  li  Derrefa.  This  lord  receives  him  and 
has  him  brought  up  with  his  son,  calling  him  Mordrec,  since 
it  appeared  from  a  paper  found  in  his  cradle  that  such  was 
his  name.  King  Arthur,  soon  after  imagining  that  he  had 
got  all  the  children  in  his  power,  is  about  to  slay  them,  but 
in  consequence  of  a  vision  decides,  instead,  to  have  them  put 
in  a  ship,  which  was  to  be  set  adrift  without  crew  or  pilot. 
This  is  done,  but  the  children,  to  the  number  of  seven 
hundred  and  twelve,  are  miraculously  preserved  and  safely 
borne  ashore,  near  a  castle  called  Amalvi,  in  the  land  of 
King  Oriant. 

The  rest  of  the  story  does  not  concern  us  here  and  need 
not  be  recounted. 

The  changes  which  have  taken  place  in  the  case  of  this 
last  story  are  certainly  considerable,  yet  I  believe  that  its 


372  J.    D.    BRUCE. 

connection  with  the  account  of  Gawain's  birth  given  in  the 
Perlesvaus  and  our  Latin  romance  will  be  generally  conceded. 
I  should  say  that  the  original  story  as  applied  to  Gawain  had 
been  here  transferred  to  his  brother,  Mordrec — a  relationship 
important  to  recollect  when  arguing  for  the  identity  of  the 
stories — only  the  new  circumstances  into  which  the  story  had 
to  be  fitted  naturally  necessitated  the  abandonment  of  the  old 
motive  for  the  sending  forth  of  the  child.  Moreover,  as  in 
the  new  application  of  the  story  there  was  no  occasion  for 
surrounding  the  voyage  of  the  royal  infant  with  secrecy,  he  is 
furnished  with  a  company  befitting  his  birth.  On  the  other 
hand,  to  save  the  essential  features  of  the  original  legend,  the 
interest  of  which  had  led  to  its  incorporation  into  the  Huth 
Merlin,  it  was  necessary  to  get  rid  of  this  company  before  the 
end  of  the  voyage,  and  the  author  resorts  to  the  natural  and 
summary  method  of  shipwreck.  The  version  of  the  Huth 
Merlin,  however,  in  so  far  as  it  relates  to  Mordrec,  has  this 
in  common  with  the  Perlesvaus  and  the  Latin  romance  as 
against  the  more  primitive  and  perhaps  more  famous  stories 
of  a  hero  committed  in  his  infancy  to  the  sea,  that  by  a 
rationalizing  alteration  in  the  form  of  the  legend  the  child 
makes  his  voyage  in  the  charge  of  some  person  or  persons, 
and  is  not  sent  forth  alone  in  a  boat  without  crew  or  pilot,  or 
otherwise.  Furthermore,  it  has  in  common  with  the  Latin 
romance  that  the  person  who  discovers  the  child,  after  it  has 
reached  the  land,  is  a  fisherman.  This  feature,  natural  as  it 
may  seem,  is  by  no  means  universal  in  legends  of  a  similar 
character. 

Having  justified,  as  I  hope,  my  assumption  that  there  is  a 
connection  between  the  story  of  Mordrec  in  the  Huth  Merlin 
and  that  which  is  related  concerning  Gawain's  birth  in  the 
Perlesvaus  and  De  Ortu  Waluuanii,  the  task  of  fixing  more 
nearly  the  mutual  relations  of  the  three  versions  and  their 
respective  claims  to  originality  will  be  best  furthered,  I  think, 
by  giving  at  once  the  legend  from  which,  in  my  opinion,  they 
are  all  derived — or  rather  those  features  of  it  with  which  we 


DE  ORTU   WALUUANII.  373 

are  here  concerned.  I  refer  to  the  legend  of  Pope  Gregory, 
which  in  some  such  form  as  that  in  which  it  appears  in  the 
Gesta  Romanorum  must,  I  think,  to  say  the  least,  have  been 
present  to  the  mind  of  the  first  writer  who  connected  this 
story  with  an  Arthurian  hero.1  The  legend  of  Gregory  in 
the  Gesta  Romanorum  is  entitled  De  mirabili  divina  dispensa- 
tione  et  ortu  beati  Gregorii  pape.  It  is  found  in  Oesterley's 
edition  (Berlin,  1872),  pp.  399  f.,  and  the  following  are  the 
portions  of  the  legend  which  seem  to  me  to  constitute  the 
source  of  the  story  common  to  the  Perlesvaus  and  the  De 
Ortu  Waluuanii,  and  which  appears  in  the  Huth  Merlin  in  so 
materially  altered  a  form. 

As  soon  as  Gregory  is  born  his  mother  prepares  to  have 
him  set  adrift  on  the  sea,  and  writes  out  the  circumstances  of 
her  son's  birth  on  tablets  which  she  places  in  the  cradle  with 
him.  The  legend  reads  (pp.  401  if.)  : 

"Cum  omnia  ista  erant  scripta,  tabellas  in  cunabulo  sub 
latere2  pueri  ponebat,  aurum  sub  capite,  argentum  ad  pedes; 
deinde  cum  pannis  sericis  ac  deauratis  cunabulum  cooperuit. 
Hoc  facto  militi  precepit,  ut  cunabulum  infra  dolium  poneret 
et  in  mari  projiceret,  ut  nataret  ubicurnque  deus  disponeret. 
Miles  vero  omnia  adimplevit.  Cum  dolium  projectum  in 
mari  fuisset,  miles  tamdiu  juxta  mare  stetit,  quamdiu  dolium 
natare  videret ;  hoc  facto  ad  dominam  rediit.  .  .  .  Dolium 
cum  puero  per  multa  regna  transiit,  quousque  juxta  cenobium 
monachorum  pervenit  et  hoc  feria  sexta.  Eodem  die  abbas 
illius  monasterii  ad  litus  maris  perrexit  et  piscatoribus  suis  ait : 
Carissimi  estote  parati  ad  piscandum  !  Illi  vero  rethia  sua 

1  The  actual  compilation  of  the  Gesta  Romanorum  is  probably  later  than 
the  Perlesvaus  or  De  Ortu  Waluuanii.     The  legend  of  Gregory,  however, 
was,  of  course,  in  existence  long  before  this — at  least  as  early  as  the  middle 
of  the  twelfth  century.     See  Grober's  Grundriss  der  Romanischen  Pkilologie, 
II,  479. 

2  In  the  Old  French  version,  Vie  du  Pape  Gregoire  le  Grand,  edited  by 
Luzarche  (Tours,  1857),  they  were  placed,  it  seems,  by  his  head,  as  it  was 
there   that  they  were   subsequently  found   (p.  37).    So   in   the   story  of 
Gawain's  birth  in  the  Perlesvaus. 


374  J.    D.    BRUCE. 

parabant ;  dum  vero  prepararent,  dolium  cum  fluctibus  maris 
ad  terrain  pervenit.  Ait  abbas  servis  suis  :  Ecce  dolium  ! 
aperiatis  et  videatis  quid  ibi  lateat !  Illi  vero  dolium  aperue- 
runt  et  ecce  puer  parvus  pannis  preciosis  involutus  abbatem 
respexit  et  risit,  abbas  vero  totaliter  de  visu  contristratus  ait : 
O  deus  rneus,  quid  est  hoc,  quod  invenimus  puerum  in  cuna- 
bulo?  Propriis  manibus  eum  levavit,  tabellas  sub  latere 
ejus  invenit,  quas  mater  ibidem  posuit ;  aperuit  et  legit.  .  .  . 
Abbas  cum  hec  legisset  et  cunabulum  pannis  preciosis  orna- 
tum  vidisset,  intellexit  quod  puer  de  nobili  sanguine  esset, 
statim  eum  baptizari  fecit  et  ei  proprium  nomen  imposuit,1 
scilicet  Gregorius  et  puerum  ad  nutriendum  uni  piscatori 
tradidit,  dans  ei  pondus  quod  invenit;  puer  vero  crescebat 
et  ab  omnibus  dilectus  quousque  septem  annos  in  etatem 
complevisset." 

Gregory,  like  Gawain,  becomes  in  the  course  of  time  an 
excellent  warrior.  He  has  many  strange  and  terrible  experi- 
ences before  he  is  called  to  the  apostolic  throne,  but  these  do 
not  concern  us  here. 

Comparing  the  above  with  the  story  of  Ga wain's  birth 
in  the  Perlesvaus  and  the  Latin  romance,  it  seems  evident 
that  the  latter  offer  simply  a  slightly  rationalized  form  of 
the  legend  concerning  the  birth  of  Gregory  applied  to  the 
Arthurian  knight,2  standing  in  this  respect  in  the  same  rela- 
tion to  that  legend  as  the  similar  story  of  Perdita's  infancy  in 
The  Winter's  Tale  to  its  acknowledged  prototype  in  Greene's 
Historic  of  Dorastus  and  JFawnia.3  In  Greene's  novel,  too, 

1  Cp.  the  Vie  du  Pape  Gregoire,  p.  40 : 

E  son  non  li  a  enpose, 
Gregoire  apeleent  I'abe, 
E  s'ilfu  Gregoire  apele. 

8  The  Gregory  legend  seems  to  have  been  used  also  in  the  romance  which 
M.  Gaston  Paris  calls  the  Chevalier  d  la  Manche.  Cp.  Hist.  Lit.  de  la  France, 
xxx,  pp.  122  f.  The  Trental  of  St.  Gregory  has  been  exploited  for  the 
Middle  English  romance,  The  Awntyrs  of  Arthure  at  the  Terne  Wathelyne. 
Cf.  Madden's  Syr  Gawayne,  pp.  238  f. 

3  See  Greene's  Works  (ed.  Grosart),  Vol.  iv,  especially  pp.  253-254,  264- 
270  (Huth  Library,  1881-83). 


DE   ORTU   WALTJUANII. 


375 


the  child  is  set  adrift  in  a  boat  without  sail  or  rudder,  but  it 
is  under  Antigonus's  charge  that  Perdita  is  taken  over  seas  to 
the  "deserts  of  Bohemia"  (Winter's  Tale,  Act  III,  Sc.  3). 
Certain  slight  correspondences  especially  seem  to  fix  the 
dependence  of  the  story  of  Gawain's  birth  on  the  legend  of 
Gregory — namely,  the  fact  that  in  the  Perlesvaus  as  in  this 
legend  the  guardian  gives  his  name  to  the  hero,  and,  again, 
that  in  the  Latin  romance,  just  as  in  the  Gregory  legend,  the 
person  who  brings  him  up  is  a  fisherman.  It  is  to  be  noted, 
moreover,  that  neither  in  the  Perlesvaus  nor  in  the  Gregory 
legend  is  the  guardian  who  gives  his  name  to  the  child  the 
person  who  actually  rears  him. 

Accepting  the  derivation,  then,  of  the  story  of  the  birth  of 
Gawain  from  the  legend  of  Pope  Gregory,  it  will  be  found 
on  the  whole,  I  think,  that  the  version  of  the  Latin  romance 
stands  decidedly  closest  to  the  original.  The  account  of  the 
discovery  of  the  child  by  the  sea-shore  and  of  his  subsequent 
bringing  up  by  the  fisherman  is  essentially  the  same  in  this 
version  as  in  the  legend,  whilst  it  has  practically  disappeared 
from  the  version  of  the  Perlesvaus.  On  the  other  hand 
the  Perlesvaus  retains  certain  distinctive  features  enumerated 
above  which  do  not  appear  in  the  De  Ortu  Waluuanii.  I 
refer  to  the  naming  of  the  hero  after  the  person  who  takes 
charge  of  him,  and  the  additional  feature  that  the  guardian 
and  the  person  who  brings  up  the  child  are  not  identical. 
At  the  same  tyne,  the  very  fact  that  the  Perlesvaus  version 
retains  these  distinctive  features  of  the  original  story,  which 
do  not  appear  in  the  Latin  romance,  makes  it  evident  that  it 
is  not  dependent  on  the  latter.  It  only  remains  to  inquire 
then  whether  each  of  the  versions  was  independently  derived 
directly  from  the  Gregory  legend  or  from  some  intermediate 
source,  itself  deriving  from  that  legend.  The  answer  to  this 
question  must  surely  be  in  favor  of  the  latter  assumption. 
It  is  incredible  that  quite  independently  of  one  another  the 
author  of  this  romance  and  the  author  of  the  Perlesvaus 
should  have  each  conceived  the  idea  of  exploiting  the  legend 


376  J.    D.    BRUCE. 

of  Gregory  for  the  history  of  Gawain,  and  attaching  it  to  the 
narrative  of  Gawain's  sojourn  at  Rome  which  is  developed 
from  the  passage  in  Geoffrey  of  Monmouth  (Book  IX,  Chap, 
xi).  This  being  the  case,  and  the  two  versions  yet  being 
entirely  independent  of  one  another,  it  is  necessary  to  assume 
a  common  source  for  both — doubtless  French.  There  is 
nothing  surprising  in  this,  as,  indeed,  we  shall  see  that  still 
other  portions  of  the  De  Ortu  Waluuanii  were  in  all  proba- 
bility also  worked  up  from  French  materials. 

It  was  from  this  same  source,  no  doubt,  that  the  version  of  the 
Huth  Merlin  was  likewise  derived.  The  story  in  that  romance 
agrees  more  closely  with  the  De  Ortu  Waluuanii  than  with 
the  Perlesvaus,  retaining  the  original  feature  of  the  discovery 
of  the  child  by  the  fisherman,  though,  of  course,  differing 
from  it  very  much  in  detail.  In  view  of  the  serious  changes 
which,  under  any  supposition,  the  form  of  the  story  has  under- 
gone in  this  version,  it  would  be  impossible  to  say  whether  the 
author  had  used  the  De  Ortu  Waluuanii  or  its  source.  As  it 
is  in  the  highest  degree  unlikely,  however,  that  the  author  of 
the  Huth  Merlin  should  have  had  knowledge  of  this  obscure 
Latin  romance,  and  as  no  use  of  the  romance  is  observable 
elsewhere  in  his  work,  we  may  safely  assume,  I  think,  that  he 
derived  his  story  of  Mordrec's  birth  from  the  same  source 
ultimately  as  the  De  Ortu  Waluuanii,  and  not  from  that  work 
directly.1 

^n  one  respect  the  application  of  the  legend  of  G*regory  to  Mordrec 
seems  more  natural  than  its  application  to  Gawain :  Gregory  and  Mordrec,  I 
mean,  were  each  the  offspring  of  an  incestuous  union.  It  is  evident,  how- 
ever, that  the  version  of  the  Huth  Merlin  is  very  inferior  to  the  versions 
which  connect  the  legend  with  Gawain,  and  the  motive  of  secrecy  which  is 
essential  to  the  story  and  appropriate  to  the  account  of  Gawain's  birth 
could  have  had  no  place  in  a  similar  story  concerning  Mordrec,  inasmuch 
as  Loth  is  nowhere  represented  as  being  conscious  of  his  real  relation  to 
the  latter. 

I  had  written  this  note  as  well  as  the  whole  of  the  discussion  in  the  text 
when  1  noticed  the  suggestion  of  M.  G.  Paris  in  the  edition  of  the  Huth 
Merlin  (p.  xli,  note  3)  that  the  introduction  of  the  story  of  Mordred's 
incestuous  birth  into  the  Arthurian  romances  was  due,  perhaps,  in  part  to 


DE  ORTU   WALUUANII.  377 

The  union,  then,  of  certain  features  of  the  Gregory  legend 
with  the  story  of  Gawain's  connection  with  Rome  and  Pope 
Sulpicius,  which  was  supplied  by  Geoffrey  of  Mon mouth 
(Book  IX,  Chap,  xi),  will  account  for  everything  that  is 
essential  in  the  Latin  romance  up  to  the  point  in  the  narra- 
tive where  the  news  of  the  war  between  the  Persians  and  the 
Christians  of  Jerusalem  is  brought  to  the  emperor's  court. 
The  fusion  of  these  materials  called  for  some  exercise  of 
invention,  of  course,  on  the  part  of  the  writer  who  first 
united  them — a  demand  which  has  been  creditably  met — but 
the  essentials  of  the  story  are  supplied  by  the  sources.  The 
whole  of  these  materials  which,  as  will  be  observed,  have 
nothing  to  do  with  the  French  metrical  or  prose  Arthurian 
romances  are  given  a  tinge  of  the  coloring  of  these  latter 
works  by  making  the  young  knight,  like  many  other  Arthu- 
rian heroes,  pass  in  the  world  under  a  nickname  simply,1 
himself  even  being  ignorant  of  his  real  name,  and  still  further 
by  introducing  the  Arthurian  commonplace  of  a  don  by  which 
the  emperor  binds  himself  to  grant  the  youthful  hero  the  privi- 
lege of  undertaking  the  next  adventure  which  presents  itself.2 

the  influence  of  the  Gregory  legend.  The  influence  of  that  legend  on  the 
stories  I  have  been  discussing  has,  of  course,  nothing  to  do  with  the  ques- 
tion which  M.  Paris  endeavors  to  elucidate  in  his  note,  as,  indeed,  it  is  a 
different  and  less  essential  feature  of  the  Gregory  legend  with  which'I  have 
been  concerned. 

JSo  Lancelot  du  Lac  in  the  prose -romance  passes  at  first  under  various 
nicknames  simply  (see  P.  Paris,  Romans  de  In  Table  Ronde,  in,  27,  et 
passim).  He  only  learns  his  true  name  in  the  cemetery  of  the  Doulou- 
reuse  Garde  (Ibid.,  pp.  165  f.).  Cp.  also  the  French  and  English  romances 
on  Guinglain,  the  son  of  Gawain,  who  is  known  as  Li  Beaus  Desconneus 
(Le  Bel  Inconnu,  ed.  Hippeau,  Paris,  1860)  or  Libeaus  Desconus  (ed.  Kaluza, 
Leipzig,  1890),  just  in  the  same  way  that  his  father  here  figures  as  Puer 
sine  nomine.  The  nickname,  Miles  cum  tunica  armaturae,  may  be  compared 
with  Le  Chevalier  d,  la  colte  mal  taille  (see  Loseth's  Le  Roman  en  Prose  de 
Tristan,  Paris,  1891,  p.  7 1,  et  passim),  which  has  passed  into  Malory  (Book 
IX,  Chap.  i). 

8  This  feature  is,  perhaps,  too  frequent  to  call  for  illustration.  An  ex- 
ample exactly  parallel  to  that  in  our  text  will  be  found  in  the  Libeaus 
Desconus  (ed.  Kaluza),  p.  9. 

6 


378  J.    D.    BRUCE. 

The  story  of  Ga wain's  birth  and  of  his  residence  in  Rome 
is  the  only  part  of  the  De  Ortu  Waluuanii,  as  far  as  I  know, 
for  which  definite  connections  can  be  established  with  passages 
in  the  Arthurian  romances  that  have  come  down  to  us.  It 
can  hardly  be  open  to  doubt,  however,  I  think,  that  the  whole 
of  the  concluding  portion  of  the  Latin  romance  which  em- 
braces the  account  of  Gawain's  night-encounter  with  King 
Arthur,  his  arrival  at  the  latter's  court1  and  the  adventure  of 
the  Castelfum  Puellarum  must  have  been  taken  with  little 
alteration  from  some  French  romance— probably  metrical — 
no  longer  extant. 

In  the  first  place,  to  say  nothing  of  the  general  character 
of  the  incidents,  the  manner  in  which  the  story  is  told  and 
the  recurrence  in  it  of  some  of  the  most  distinctive  common- 
places of  the  French  Arthurian  romances,  along  with  still 
other  features  to  be  noticed,  lend  strong  probability  to  the 
theory  of  its  derivation  from  some  one  of  the  many  specimens 
of  works  of  that  class  which  must  have  been  lost.  It  is 
hardly  likely  that  a  writer  whose  preferred  vehicle  of  expres- 
sion was  Latin  could  have  reproduced  so  perfectly  the  habitual 
character  of  those  works,  if  he  had  not  followed  some  romance 
in  the  vernacular.  These  concluding  episodes,  indeed,  seem 
to  me  to  represent  a  more  purely  popular  tradition  than  any 
other  parts  of  the  Latin  romance. 

The  commonplaces  referred  to  here  especially  are : 

1.  The  introduction  of  Kay,  the  seneschal — who  is  not 
more  fortunate  in  his  encounter  in  this  episode  than  in  the 
Arthurian  romances  generally — and  of  Gringalet,  the  famous 
steed  of  Gawain,  for  it  is  evidently  to  him  that  the  words 
refer :   "  Sonipedi    residet   cui    uigore,   ualore  decoreue  alter 
equiparari  non  poterit  (p.  424)." 

2.  The  combat  at  the  ford.    Such  combats  between  knights 
at  a  ford  may  be  numbered  among  the  commonplaces  of  the 

:In  the  description  of  Caerleon  and  its  surroundings  the  author  had 
in  mind  Geoffrey's  Historia  (Book  IX,  Chap,  xn),  where  this  city  is  also 
described. 


DE   ORTU   WALTJUANII. 


379 


Arthurian  romances.  We  have  again  in  the  prose  Tristan 
(s.  Loseth,  p.  441)  an  encounter  under  these  circumstances 
between  Arthur  and  Gawain  which  has  no  connection,  how- 
ever, with  the  story  in  our  Latin  text. 

Even  more  convincing,  perhaps,  for  our  present  purpose 
are  the  following  features,  inasmuch  as  they  are  not  common- 
places, which  lend  themselves  easily  to  imitation,  yet  are 
paralleled  elsewhere  in  Arthurian  romance : 

1.  The  opening  of  the  story  by  a  conversation  between 
King  Arthur  and  his  consort  as  they  lie  in  bed  together.     So 
the  Harleian  Morte  Arthur  (ed.  Furnivall,  London,  1864), 
which   in   the  earlier  part  at  least,  is  based  on  the  French 
prose  Lancelot.1 

2.  The  leading  in  of  the  steeds  into  the  room  where  King 
Arthur  is  lying.     The  introduction   of  horses  into  halls  is 
found  elsewhere  in   the  Arthurian  romances,  as  well  as  in 
other  branches  of  medieval   literature.     See    the    numerous 
examples  cited  in  Child's  Ballads,  IV,  510 ;  VI,  508.     This 
feature  of  the  romances  may  have  answered  to  a  real  custom. 

3.  A  nocturnal  encounter  between  King  Arthur  and  an 
unknown  knight,  which  is  brought  on  by  an  assertion2  (or 
taunt)  from  his  queen  that  she  knows  of  a  better  knight  than 
he.     We  find  the  same  motive  in  the  Crone  of  Heinrich  von 
dem  Tiirlin   (ed.  Scholl,  Stuttgart,  1852)  in  the  episode  (11. 
3356  f.)   which    introduces   Gasozein    into    the   story.     The 
resemblance  between  this  episode  and  that  in  our  romance, 
notwithstanding  the  much  greater  elaboration  of  the  former, 
is  in  many  points  very  striking  and  affords  strong  grounds 
for  the  suspicion  that  they  are  ultimately  connected  with  one 
another.     The  episode  in  the  Cr6m  is  as  follows  : 

1 1  am  not  in  a  position  to  say  whether  the  -Lancelot  MSS.  contain  just  this 
feature  of  the  English  poem.  At  any  rate,  there  can  be  little  doubt  of  its 
coming,  like  everything  else  in  the  poem,  from  a  French  source. 

8  This  story  bears  a  certain  resemblance,  as  regards  motif,  to  that  of  King 
Arthur  and  King  Cornwall  and  the  group  to  which  it  belongs  (cp.  Child's 
Ballads,  u,  274  f.),  but  the  adventures  which  follow  are  altogether  different 
in  our  romance. 


380  J.    D.    BRUCE. 

Arthur,  returning  from  a  hunt,  is  very  cold  and  draws 
close  to  the  fire.  His  queen,  observing  him,  taunts  him  with 
his  want  of  endurance  and  contrasts  his  powers  in  this  respect 
unfavorably  with  those  of  a  knight  she  knows  who,  clad 
simply  in  a  white  shirt, 

Kitet ane  pine 

Ben  vurt  viir  Noirespine  (11.  3424  f.), 

singing  songs  of  love  all  through  the  winter  night.  Arthur, 
vexed  at  the  taunt  of  his  queen,  secretly  takes  counsel  with 
his  men  and  rides  out  to  an  encounter  with  this  strange 
knight,  accompanied  by  Kei,  G&les  and  Aumagwin.  These 
latter  in  separate  encounters  vainly  demand  the  stranger's 
name,  Kei,  moreover,  applying  to  him  the  opprobrious  epi- 
thets of  robber  and  the  like,  but  they  are  all  unhorsed  and 
their  steeds  led  away  by  the  victor.  Aumagwin  in  his  fall 
had  even  been  thrown  into  a  brunne  that  flowed  out  of  the 
hill,  and  would  have  drowned  but  for  his  companions'  aid ; 
so,  like  Arthur  in  our  romance,  he  came  away  from  the 
combat  wet  and  humiliated.  When  Arthur's  turn  comes,  he 
has  better  success  than  his  knights,  inasmuch  as  he  presses  the 
stranger  very  hard,  and  the  latter  on  learning  that  he  is  King 
Arthur  is  willing  to  confess  to  him  his  name.  The  sequel  of 
the  story  in  the  German  poem  does  not  concern  us. 

4.  The  episode  of  the  Castettum  Puellarum  relates,  of  course, 
to  the  Chastel  aux  Pucelles,  familiar  to  students  of  Arthurian 
romance.1  In  accordance  with  the  usual  tradition  it  lies  "in 
aquilonari  parte  Britannie  " 2  (p.  428).  This  concluding  episode 
of  the  Latin  romance  is  based  in  all  probability  on  the  same 

1Tlie  tourney  at  the  Chastel  aux  Pucelles  plays  a  considerable  part  in  the 
prose  Tristan  (&.  Loseth,  p.  102,  et  passim).  Cp.  also  the  Lancelot  du  Lac 
(P.  Paris,  Romans  de  la  Table  Ronde,  v,  114  ff.).  In  Malory  it  appears  as 
the  Castd  of  Maydens  (Book  XIII,  Chap.  xv). 

2  It  was  identified  with  Edinburgh.  See  the  note  on  Castellum  Puellarum 
in  San  Marte's  edition  of  Geoffrey  of  Monmouth's  Historia,  Halle,  1854, 
p.  215. 


DE   ORTU  WALTJUANII.  381 

source 1  as  the  episode  in  Ider  (s.  G.  Paris,  Histoire  Litteraire 
de  La  France,  xxx,  202,  204)  where  Arthur  is  summoned 
to  the  assistance  of  the  Lady  of  the  Chateau  des  Pucelles  when 
besieged  by  the  Noir  Chevalier.2  We  have  a  kindred  though 
different  story  of  the  rescue  of  this  Lady  in  the  English  Sir 
Perceval  of  the  Thornton  MS.  (ed.  Halliwell  in  The  Thornton 
Romances,  Camden  Society,  London,  1844;  see  pp.  37  f.). 
There  she  figures  as  Lufamour,  Lady  of  Maydenelande. 
Under  the  influence  of  the  ballad  poetry  her  oppressor  has 
become  a  "Sowdane,"  who  does  not  gain,  however,  even 
temporary  possession  of  the  Lady's  person,  and  King  Arthur 
no  longer  plays  the  humiliating  role  which  is  assigned  to  him 
in  the  De  Ortu  Waluuanii.  In  this  last  respect,  as  in  the 
marriage  of  the  rescuing  knight  with  the  Lady,  the  English 
romance  doubtless  represents  more  accurately  the  original 
source  from  which  all  the  stories  concerning  the  distresses 
of  this  heroine  were  drawn.  Yet  Perceval  has  probably 
taken  the  place  of  the  older  hero  in  a  story  which,  as  I  think 
is  evident,  must  at  one  time  have  enjoyed  an  independent 
existence. 

Finally,  it  is  to  be  remarked,  in  regard  to  this  concluding 
portion  of  the  Latin  romance,  that  in  the  episode  of  Arthur's 
encounter  with  Gawain  we  have  evidently  some  of  the  traits 
which  usually  characterize  the  seneschal  in  the  romances  here 
transferred  to  the  king  in  a  way  which  I  am  at  a  loss  to 
parallel  from  works  of  this  kind.  This  characterization  of 
Arthur  being  essential,  however,  to  the  story  here  related,  it 

1  The  only  suggestion  of  parallelism  with  Geoffrey  of  Monmouth  which 
I  find  in  this  episode  is  in  regard  to  Gawain's  boast  that  he  would  accom- 
plish alone  what  Arthur's  whole  army  had  failed  in.    In  the  Historia,  Book 
III,  Chap,  xv,  nearly  the  same  thing  is  said  of  Morvidus:  "  Plus  ipse  solus 
in  praeliando  proficiebat  quam  maxima  pars  exercitus  sui  principatus." 
So,  also,  of  Guiderius,  Book  IV,  Chap.  xin.     But  these  resemblances  are 
no  doubt  accidental. 

2  It  is  impossible  to  say  from  M.  Paris's  analysis  of  Ider— the  poem  is  still 
unpublished — in  the  place  cited  above,  whether  the  story  of  Arthur's  expe- 
dition in  relief  of  the  Lady  is  told  in  full  or  not  in  that  romance. 


382  J.    D.    BRUCE. 

must  have  constituted  already  a  part  of  the  original  on  which 
this  portion  of  our  Latin  romance  is  based.  The  same  is  true 
of  the  ascription  of  prophetic  powers  to  the  queen.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  singular  change  of  the  name  of  King  Arthur's 
consort  to  Gwendolen,1  which,  as  far  as  I  know,  does  not  occur 
elsewhere,  could  hardly  have  been  the  work  of  a  romance- 
writer  who  desired  to  appeal  to  the  usual  audience  to  whom 
such  works  were  addressed.  It  is  no  doubt  due  to  the  author 
of  the  Latin  romance. 

Having  presented  acceptable  reasons,  as  I  hope,  for  the 
supposition  that  to  French  sources  are  to  be  traced  not  only 
the  account  of  Gawain's  birth  and  youth,  but  also  the  con- 
cluding episodes  of  the  De  Ortu  Waluuanii,  we  will  now  turn 
to  a  consideration  of  the  middle  portion  of  the  romance,  em- 
bracing the  narrative  of  Ga  wain's  expedition  to  Jerusalem, 
his  adventures  on  the  barbarous  isle,  his  sea-fight  and  his 
duel  with  Gormundus. 

It  is  obvious  that  the  expedition  of  Gawain  as  the  champion 
of  the  Christians  at  Jerusalem  and  the  ensuing  duel  are  quite 
independent  of  the  other  adventures  just  referred  to.  The 
duel  with  Gormundus,  like  the  account  of  Gawain's  sojourn 
at  Rome,  owes  its  origin,  I  believe,  to  a  passage  in  Geoffrey 
of  Monmouth.  The  name  of  the  Persian  champion  is  adopted 
from  the  heathen  Gormundus,  rex  Afrieanorum  (Book  XI, 
Chap,  vin)  and  infaustus  Tyrannus  (ibid.,  Chap,  x)  of  that 
writer,  but  the  episode  of  the  duel  was,  I  believe,  unquestion- 
ably suggested  by  the  similar  contest  between  Arthur  and 
Flollo  in  the  Historia  (Book  IX,  Chap,  xi),  where  the  conflict 
of  two  armies  is  in  the  same  manner  averted  by  this  mode  of 
settlement.  In  the  De  Ortu  Waluuanii  the  combat  is  made 

1  In  Sir  W.  Scott's  Bridal  of  Triermain  (Cantos  I  and  II)  there  is  a  story 
of  an  amour  of  Arthur  with  a  fay  named  Guendolen,  but  the  episode  seems 
to  be  wholly  of  Scott's  own  invention.  The  name  Gwendoloena  was  most 
probably  taken  from  the  Vita  Merlim,  usually  ascribed  to  Geoffrey  of  Mon- 
mouth. It  is  there  the  name  of  Merlin's  wife.  Cp.  11.  170  f.  of  this  poem 
in  San  Marte's  Sagen  von  Merlin,  Halle,  1853,  p.  278. 


DE   ORTU   WALUUANII.  383 

to  extend  over  three  days,  the  antagonists  fight  on  foot  because 
there  is  no  horse  tall  enough  to  bear  the  heathen  champion,1 
and  the  accounts  are  different  in  most  of  their  other  details, 
yet  these  details,  such  as  they  are  in  the  Latin  romance, 
required  no  great  exercise  of  invention,  and  the  episode  seems 
to  me  to  be  a  counterpart  to  the  corresponding  episode  in 
Geoffrey.  Certain  features,  after  all,  show  plainly  the  influ- 
ence of  the  earlier  narrative  on  the  later — namely,  the  fact 
that  in  each  the  author  allows  his  hero  at  one  stage  of  the 
contest  to  have  the  worst  of  it,  and,  again,  the  inclination  of 
the  hosts  that  look  on  to  interfere  in  the  duel.2 

I  see  no  reason  for  supposing  that  this  episode  of  Gawain's 
expedition  to  Jerusalem 3  and  single  combat  with  Gormundus 
did  not  form  a  part  of  the  French  source  from  which  the 
story  of  his  birth  and  youth  were  also  drawn.  In  each 
we  have  a  suggestion  derived  from  Geoffrey  of  Monmouth 
developed  with  considerable  freedom,  although  the  interest  of 
the  later  narrative  is  certainly  very  inferior  to  that  of  the 
earlier.  This  is,  however,  in  a  measure  due  to  the  copious 
rhetoric  with  which  the  author  of  the  Latin  romance  has 
thought  fit  to  invest  his  description  of  the  mortal  struggle 
between  the  champions  of  the  two  hosts.  I  think  we  may 
safely  assume  that  the  responsibility  for  all  this  empty  verbi- 
age rests  with  him  and  not  with  his  original. 

The  adventure  of  the  barbarous  isle  and  of  the  sea-fight 
which  follows  opens,  it  is  true,  with  a  passage  in  which  the 

1  So  in  the  Livre  d'Artus,  in  the  MS.  337  fond^fran^ais  of  the  Bibliotheque 
Nationale,  no  horse  could  bear  the  giant  from  whom  Artus  rescues  the 
Countess  of  Orofoise.     Cp.  Freymond's  analysis,  Zs.  f.  franz.  Spr.  und  Lit., 
xvir,  96.     The  idea  is,  of  course,  known  to  legend  elsewhere.     The  same 
thing,  for  instance,  is  told  of  King  Hygelac  in  the  tract,  De  monstris  et 
belluis  liber,  quoted  Haupt's  Zs.,  v,  10. 

2  The  Britons  in  Geoffrey  (Book  IX,  Chap,  xi),  when  they  saw  Arthur 
prostrate  after  the  fall  of  his  wounded  horse,  vix  potuerunt  retineri,  quin 
rupto  foedere  in  Gallos  unanimiter  irruerunt. 

3  The  idea  of  sending  Gawain  to  Jerusalem  as  a  champion  of  the  Chris- 
tians is  due  no  doubt  to  a  reminiscence  of  the  Christian  occupation  of  that 
city,  which  lasted  from  1099  to  1187. 


384  J.    D.    BRUCE. 

influence  of  Geoffrey  of  Monmouth  is  manifest,  yet  the  story 
as  a  whole  was  certainly  not  suggested  by  anything  in  that 
writer,  and  I  am  at  a  loss  to  establish  connections  for  it  in 
the  general  fund  of  romantic  stories.1  The  councils  of  war,  the 
military  operations  conducted  with  concerted  method,  which 
enter  into  the  narrative  of  this  adventure — to  say  nothing  of 
the  description  of  the  fight  at  sea — certainly  betray  the  labor 
of  a  learned  hand — the  same,  doubtless,  which  had  already 
drawn  on  Geoffrey  of  Monmouth  for  such  important  materials 
in  the  construction  of  the  romance.  The  story  of  the  captive 
queen,  of  Gawain's  penetrating  secretly  to  the  palace,  and  of 
the  plot  which,  in  conjunction  with  Nabaor,  they  contrive 
there  is  not  founded,  however,  on  anything  in  the  Historia. 
On  the  other  hand,  it  reads  rather  like  an  episode  from  one 
of  the  more  romantic  tales  of  the  Decameron  than  a  chapter 
in  Arthurian  fiction.2  But  little  of  this  portion  of  the  narra- 
tive, however,  including  the  fight  at  sea,  can  be  set  down,  I 
believe,  to  the  account  of  the  author  who  gave  these  stories 
their  Latin  dress.  It  is  inconceivable  that  a  person  who  was 
capable  of  inserting  into  the  romance  the  outrageously  burles- 
que receipt  for  the  preparation  of  Greek  fire  (pp.  412  f.)  could 
have  himself  composed  this  interesting  episode,  yet  there  are 

1The  proper  names  of  this  episode  afford  us  no  help  in  the  matter. 
Nabor  (usually  Afabaor  in  the  romance)  occurs  in  the  prose  Tristan  as  a 
variant  of  the  name  of  the  giant,  Nabon  (e.  g.,  cp.  Loseth,  p.  61),  and  the 
father  of  ^agremor  in  the  Huth  Merlin  (i,  206)  is  Nabur,  but  no  such  story 
is  connected  with  these  characters.  Neither  the  name  of  the  king,  Milo- 
crates — a  barbarous  formation,  indeed — nor  that  of  his  brother,  Buzafaman, 
do  I  find  elsewhere.  Curiously  this  latter  personage  is  once  called  Eyesarius 
(p.  410),  but  the  origin  of  this  name  is  as  obscure  to  me  as  that  of  the  rest. 
(N.  B.,  also  Odabal,  which  occurs  nowhere  else,  as  far  as  I  can  ascertain.) 
It  is  possible  that  Buzafarnan  and  Egesarius  are  both  corrupt  forms.  How 
far  names  in  the  Arthurian  romances  have  often  departed  from  their  origi- 
nal forms,  in  the  course  of  copying,  may  be  seen  from  F.  Seiffert's  Namenbuch 
zu  den  ofranzosischen  Artwepen,  Greifswald,  1882,  pp.  5  fF. 

2Jt  will  be  easy,  perhaps,  for  folk-lorists  to  point  out  parallels  to  the 
conception  of  a  people  who  rarely  lived  beyond  fifty  or  died  under  ten 
(p.  398) — also  to  the  conception  of  the  charmed  arms  (p.  406),  on  the  posses- 
sion of  which  depended  the  possession  of  the  kingdom. 


DE   ORTU   WALUUANII.  385 

no  peculiarities  in  the  Latin  of  the  inserted  passage  to  dis- 
tinguish its  author  from  that  of  the  episode.  The  sources  of 
the  Latin  romance  are  doubtless  not  responsible  for  either 
this  interpolation  or  the  pseudo-learned  description  of  the 
rostrate. 

The  account  of  the  landing  of  the  Roman  expedition  on 
the  island,  however,  and  of  the  hunting  of  Gawain  and  his 
men  in  the  neighboring  forest  shows  plainly  the  influence,  as 
stated  above,  of  a  similar  episode  in  Geoffrey  of  Monmouth — 
namely,  that  in  which  Brutus  lands  on  the  isle  of  Leogecia 
(Book  I,  Chap,  xi)  and  despatches  his  men  into  the  interior, 
where  they  slay  wild  beasts  of  various  kinds  and  discover 
the  deserted  city  with  the  temple  of  Diana.  It  is  from  the 
goddess  there  that  Brutus  learns  hi?  own  destiny  and  that  of 
his  posterity.  In  the  narrative  of  Gawain's  encounter  with 
the  keepers  of  the  forest  we  have  an  example  of  still  further 
correspondence  with  the  Historia.  Just  as  Gawain,1  having 
struck  down  the  head-keeper,  apprehenso  ....  naso  cassidis 
eum  ad  socios  traxit  (p.  400),  so  in  Geoffrey  Eldol  cepit  Hengis- 
tum  per  nasale  cassidis  atque  tolls  utens  viribus,  ipsum  intra 
dves  extraxit  (Book  VIII,  Chap.  vi). 

To  sum  up  the  results  of  this  discussion  of.  the  sources,  it 
has  been  demonstrated,  I  believe,  that  the  author  of  the  Latin 
romance  drew  his  materials  for  the  earlier  periods  of  his 
hero's  career — down  to  the  point  where  he  undertakes  the 
championship  of  the  Christians  of  Jerusalem — from  an  earlier 
French  romance  relating  to  Gawain — whether  prose  or  metri- 
cal it  is  impossible  to  say.  The  former,  I  think,  is  more 
probable.  For  what  may  be  termed  the  second  division  of 
the  romance — namely,  from  the  point  just  designated  down 
to  the  hero's  departure  from  Rome  for  King  Arthur's  court — 
the  question  of  sources  is  more  difficult.  It  is  probable, 

*  Gawain's  reply  to  the  keeper :  Nee  arma  nisi  in  vestris  visccribus  recondita 
deponemus  (p.  399)  may  be  a  reminiscence  of  the  phrase  in  EldoFs  speech 
concerning  Vortigern  ....  yladii  met  mucronem  intra  viscera  ipsius  reco/idam 
(Book  VIII,  Chap.  11). 


386  J.    D.    BRUCE. 

however,  that  for  this  division,  too,  French  materials  were 
employed,  and,  this  being  the  case,  I  see  no  adequate  reason 
for  assuming  that  the  incidents  of  the  first  and  second  divi- 
sions were  drawn  from  a  different  source.  On  the  other 
hand,  if  the  source  of  this  part  of  the  story  was  indeed  a 
French  Arthurian  romance,  as  is  certainly  the  case  with  the 
other  divisions,  and  not  some  tale  of  a  different  character, 
that  source,  as  I  think  is  evident,  must  have  been  made  up, 
as  regards  these  episodes,  of  materials  which  had  nothing  to 
do  with  Arthurian  story.  The  last  division,  embracing  the 
adventures  of  Gawain  in  Britain,  are,  we  may  say,  certainly 
derived  from  a  French  Arthurian  romance  of  the  familiar 
pattern— most  probably  metrical.  This  last  romance,  more- 
over, is  different  to  that  which  supplied  the  materials  for  the 
first  and  second  divisions.  It  shows  no  use  of  Geoffrey  of 
Monmouth  nor  of  legends  outside  of  the  Arthurian  cycle,  and 
the  incidents  seem  to  me  to  bear  the  stamp  of  popular  origin 
in  the  same  sense  as  those  which  fill  the  romances  of  Chretien 
de  Troyes  and  his  followers.  This  cannot  be  said  of  the  first 
division  nor  of  the  second.  The  author  has  connected  this 
last  division  with  the  preceding  by  retaining  the  hero's  nick- 
name from  the  latter,  and  accepting  from  the  first  division  its 
characteristic  conception  in  regard  to  the  origin  of  the  hero. 

III. 

AUTHOR. 

The  author  of  the  Latin  romance  was  himself  a  man  of 
some  learning — doubtless  a  member  of  one  of  the  ecclesi- 
astical orders.  The  occasional  reminiscences  in  phraseology 
pointed  out  further  back  make  it  certain  that  he  knew 
Geoffrey  of  Monmouth,  and  his  allusions  to  the  Egean  sea 
(p.  398),  the  Cyclops  (p.  421),  and  the  battle  of  the  Lapithae 
and  Centaurs  (p.  421)  disclose  an  even  more  extended  knowl- 
edge. In  the  composition  of  his  romance  he  no  doubt  used 
his  sources  freely,  and  his  work  is  probably  nowhere  a  mere 


DE  ORTU   WALUUANII.  387 

translation.  He  has,  moreover,  added  passages  occasionally, 
it  would  seem,  such  as  the  description  of  Caerleon  on  Usk 
which  opens  the  last  division  and  is  the  only  thing  in  that 
division  that  owes  its  suggestion  to  Geoffrey.  The  burlesque 
receipt  for  the  preparation  of  Greek  fire,1  too,  certainly  does 
not  belong  to  his  sources.  Finally  the  rhetorical  flourishes 
which  mark  the  style  of  the  Latin  work — most  conspicuous 
in  the  account  of  the  duel  with  Gormundus — are  doubtless 
all  the  author's  own. 

In  regard  to  the  life  or  nationality  of  this  author  the  MS. 
affords  us  no  information.  We  find  in  it  just  preceding  the  De 
Ortu  Waluuanii  another  romance  relating  to  King  Meriadoc 
of  Wales  of  even  somewhat  greater  length  (Ward's  Catalogue, 
I,  374  f.).  I  have  had  no  opportunity  of  examining  this 
story,  but  the  self-satisfaction  and  the  phraseology  of  the 
brief  prologue,  which  I  will  now  quote  in  part  from  Ward, 
remind  one  of  the  conclusion  to  our  romance  and  lead  me  to 
suspect  that  the  two  romances  are  by  the  same  author.  The 
sentences  of  the  prologue  in  question  read  as  follows  : 

"  Memoratu  dignam  dignum  duxi  exarare  historiam.  .  .  . 
Legencium  igitur  consulens  utilitati  illam  compendioso  per- 
stringere  stilo  statui,  sciens  quod  maioris  sit  precii  breuis  cum 
sensu  oracio  quam  multiflua  racione  uacans  locucio." 

Ward  (p.  375)  remarks  that  "the  early  part  of  this  romance 
was  not  improbably  founded  upon  a  Mabinogi;  but  the  present 
version  was  not  written  by  a  Welshman,  or  he  would  not  have 
said :  Sedes  uero  regni  Caradoci  regis  et  quo  maxime  frequen- 
tare  solebat  penes  niualem  montem  qui  Kambrice  Snavodone 
resonat  exstabat  (f.  2,  cols.  1,  2),  whereas  the  genuine  Welsh 
name  for  the  range  is  Eryri,  and  the  word  Snowdon  is  essen- 
tially English." 

In  default  of  further  evidence  there  is  nothing  to  be  added 
to  the  above  in  regard  to  the  nationality  of  the  author  of  our 
romance.  He  was  doubtless  an  Englishman. 

1  There  is  mention  of  Greek  fire  in  the  Hisloria  (Book  I,  Chap,  vn),  but 
I  do  not  believe  that  this  is  a  point  in  which  the  romance  has  been  influ- 
enced by  Geoffrey. 


388  J.    D.    BRUCE. 

IV. 

DATE. 

With  respect  to  the  date  of  the  composition  of  the  De  Ortu 
Waluuanii,  Sir  Frederic  Madden  has  referred  it,  as  seen 
above  (p.  367),  to  the  early  part  of  the  fourteenth  century. 
He  seems,  however,  to  have  had  no  better  reason  for  this 
opinion  than  the  fact  that  the  manuscript  which  contains  the 
romance  belongs  to  that  period  (see  Ward,  I,  374).  But 
the  copy  preserved  in  the  Cottonian  MS.  is  certainly  not  the 
original  copy.  The  numerous  omissions1  of  words  and  phrases 
in  that  MS.  render  it  incredible  that  such  should  be  the  case. 
The  date  of  the  MS.,  then,  can  only  serve  to  fix  the  down- 
ward limit  of  composition.  An  indication  of  the  upward 
limit  seems  to  be  furnished  by  the  very  nickname  of  the 
hero — Miles  cum  tunica  armaturae — inasmuch  as  the  tunic 
worn  over  the  armour  (i.  e.,  the  surcoat)  came  into  use  in  the 
early  part  of  the  thirteenth  century.2  The  passage  in  which 
is  explained  the  origin  of  the  nickname  appears  to  me  to  fix 
the  source  at  least  of  the  first  division  of  the  romance  as 
belonging  to  the  early  part  of  the  thirteenth  century.  For  it 
is  there  (p.  396)  said  that  before  the  young  hero  no  one  had 
thus  worn  a  tunic  over  his  armour.  Such  a  passage  could 
hardly  have  been  written  except  when  the  custom  was  still 
quite  new,  as  indeed  a  nickname  so  little  distinctive  could 
only  have  been  employed  by  the  romance-writer  under  these 
conditions.  Considering  that  the  incident  through  which 
the  hero  acquires  this  nickname  forms  an  integral  part  of  the 
story,  it  is  not  likely  that  the  above-mentioned  passage  was 
introduced  into  the  romance  by  the  writer  who  worked  up 
these  materials  in  their  Latin  form.  I  think  we  may  accord - 

1  See  pp.  397,  409  et  passim. 

2  See  A.  Schultz'  Das  Hofische  Leben  zur  Zeit  der  Minnesinger,  2te  Auflage, 
Leipzig,  1889,  n,  pp.  40  f.— also  p.  58,  where  it  is  again  stated  as  introduced 
"  in  den  ersten  Decennien  des  dreizehnten  Jahrhunderts." 


DE  ORTTJ   WALUTJANII.  389 

ingly  infer  from  what  has  just  been  observed  that  the  source1 
of  the  first  division  (and  of  the  second,2  too,  of  course,  if  that 
is  by  the  same  hand)  is  to  be  referred  to  the  early  part  of  the 
thirteenth  century. 

In  regard  to  the  final  division  of  the  romance  we  can  only 
say  that  the  similarity  of  its  incidents  and  character  to  those 
of  the  romances  of  Chretien  and  his  followers  affords  reason 
for  referring  the  source  of  this  division  to  the  chief  period 
of  the  production  of  these  romances — namely,  that  which 
embraces  the  latter  part  of  the  twelfth  century  and  the  early 
part  of  the  thirteenth.  As  the  source  of  the  earlier  divisions 
seems  to  belong  to  the  early  thirteenth  century,  it  is  most 
probable  that  the  romance  on  which  this  part  of  the  De  Ortu 
Waluuanii  is  based  dated  also  from  that  period. 

Finally,  there  is  no  indication  beyond  those  already  men- 
tioned in -regard  to  the  time  when  the  materials  drawn  from 
these  sources  were  worked  up  into  the  form  of  a  Latin 
romance.  It  does  not  seem  likely,  however,  that  this  should 
have  occurred  very  long  after  the  original  romances  them- 
selves came  into  existence.  I  should,  therefore,  be  inclined  to 
fix  upon  the  second  quarter  of  the  thirteenth  century  as  the 
period  when  the  De  Ortu  Waluuanii  was  composed. 


1  The  connection  of  this  source  with  the  passage  in  the  Perlesvaus  affords 
us  no  indication  of  date,  because  the  two,  as  we  have  seen  above  (p.  375),  are 
not  directly  connected.     They  only  go  back  to  a  common  source.    Perlesvaus 
(or  Perceval  li  Gallois)  is  assigned  by  Birch-Hirschfeld  (Sage  vom  Oral,  p. 
143)  to  the  second  quarter  of  the  thirteenth  century. 

2  If  the  images  of  birds  attached  to  the  masts,  which  deceive  the  Centurion 
on  the  approach  of  Buzafarnan's  fleet  (p.  410),  do  indeed  answer  to  anything 
in  the  ornamentation  of  ships  during  the  Middle  Ages,  a  clue  to  the  date 
of  this  part  of  the  romance  (i.  e.,  its  source)  might  be  furnished.     But  with 
the  means  of  determining  this  which  are  accessible  to  me,  I  am  unable  to 
say  whether  such  is  the  case. 


390  J.    D.    BEUCE. 

V. 

TEXT. 

De  ortu  WaluuaDii  nepotis  Arturi. 
[Cott.  MS.  Faustina,  B.  vi.] 

[Foi.23,coi.2.j  yterpendragon  rex,  pater  Arturi,  omnium  Britannie 
confinium  prouinciarum  sue  dicioni  reges  subegerat,  tributarios- 
que  efficiens  eorurn  filios  parti m  loco  obsidum,  partim  honestate 
morum  militarique  erudiendos  disci plina  sua  in  curia  detinebat. 
Inter  quos  Loth  nepos  [Sijchelini  regis  Norgwegie  educabatur, 
adolescens  mirandus  aspectu,  robore  corporis  animique  uirtute 
preditus,  unde  et  regi  Vthero  eiusque  filio  Arturo  ceteris  suis 
coetaneis  karior  habitus  ipsius  secreta  cubiculi  continue  fre- 
quentabat.  Erat  autem  regi  filia  Anna  dicta  incomparabilis 
pulcritudinis,  que  cum  matre  regina  in  thalamo  morabatur. 
Cum  qua  dum  predictus  adolescens  sepe  itiueniliter  luderet  et 
iocosa  secretius  uerba  consereret,  utrique  alterutro  capiuntur 
amore.  Alterni  tamen  affectus  diu  ab  invicem  cum  timore 
turn  pudore  dissimulati  sunt.  Verum  quia  ad  instar  flamme 
amor  quo  magis  tegitur,  eo  magis  accenditur,  indeque  capit 
angmentum  unde  minui  festinatur,  magnitudinem  tandem 
amoris  in  se  continere  non  ualentes,  que  mente  conceperant 
mutuo  patefaciunt.  Sui  igitur  uoti  compotes  effect!  assen- 
sum  uoluptati  adhibent,  statimque  ilia  impregnate  intumuit. 
[FOI.  23b,  coi.  i.]  parienc|j  uero  appropinquante  termino,  egritudi- 
nem  simulans  secreto  cubat  cubiculo,  unam  tantum  pedisse- 
quam  huius  rei  habens  consciam.  Tempus  tandem  quo  fetum 
expelleret  aduenerat,  paruulumque  eleganti  forma  enixa  est. 
Conduxerat  autem  ditissimos  e  transmarinis  finibus  commercia 
sectautes  pactaque  cum  eis  sub  iureiurando  fuerat,  ut  statim 
ubi  in  lucem  prodiret,  ne  a  quoquam  comperiretur,  secum 
suam  in  patriam  infantem  abducerent  ac  usque  adultam  eta- 
tem  diligenter  educarent.  Natum  itaque  infantulum,  nemine 
sciente,  negociatores  suscipiunt,  cum  quo  genitrix  eis  auri  et 


DE   ORTU  WALUUANII.  391 

argenti  preciosarumque  uestium  innumerabilern  copiam  con- 
tulit.  Tradidit  quoque  ingentis  precii  pallium  insertis  geramis 
auro  undique  intextum  nee  non  et  anulum  lapide  smaragdino 
insignitum,  quern  a  rege  custodiendum  acceperat,  quo  ipse 
dumtaxat  festiuis  diebus  uti  solebat.  Cartam  eciam  regis 
sigillo  signatam  addidit,  cuius  textus  eum  certis  insinuabat 
indiciis  ex  regis  Norwegie  nepote  sororeque  Arturi  progeni- 
tum  Waluuaniuruque  a  genitrice  nominatum  et  propter  regis 
timorem  ad  extraneas  fuisse  destinatum  prouincias.  Hec 
idcirco  ilia,  scilicet  pallium  auulum  et  cartam,  prouido  usa 
consilio  cum  eo  prebere  studuit,  ut,  si  forte  quandoque  rediens 
a  parentibus  [Co1-2-]  non  agnitus  refutaretur,  signum  certitudi- 
nis  exhiberent  et  per  eorum  indicia  ad  parentum  perueniret 
notitiam. 

Negociatores  igitur  sue  tuicioni  commissum  paruulum  tol- 
lentes  nauem  con[s]cendunt,  datisque  uentis  carbasis  alta 
sulcantes  equora  viij  tandem  die  Gallicanas  allabuntur1  ad 
horas,  nactique  continentem  duobus  miliariis  a  ciuitate  Nar- 
bonensi  appulsi  sunt.  Quo  ubi  applicuerunt  sale  reumateque 
maris  tabentes,  ad  urbem  se  spaciatum,  lintre  in  portu  relicto, 
omnes  properant,  unum  tantummodo  puerum  qui  suas  res 
lactentemque  in  cunis  iacentem  tueretur  deserentes,  rernocius 
quippe  ab  urbe  sub  prerupta  rupe  appulerant  nullumque 
interim  ratem  aditurum  credebant.  Sed,  illis  egressis,  forte 
quidam  piscator  e  uicino  pago,  Viamundus  uocabulo,  rebus 
quidem  pauper  sed  genere  et  moribus  honestus,  ut  moris 
cotidie  habebat,  cum  coniuge  per  litus  gradiebatur,  inuestigans 
si  piscem  inuenire  potuisset  freti  retractu  in  continenti  desti- 
tutum,  cuius  sibi  precio  uictum  adquireret.  Hie  carinam 
appulsam  intuitus,  ceteris  omissis,  illuc  confestim  tetendit, 
ingressusque  neminem  excepto  puero  qui  ad  eius  tutelam 
relictus  fuerat  et  ilium  quidem  dormientem  repperit.  Videns 
autem  paruulum  prestanti  forma  nauemque  sine  custode  omni- 
bus refertam  diuiciis  suamque  considerans  paupertatem  quam 
ibi,  for^-^'^-^tuna  fauente,  releuare  poterat — ut  in  prouerbio 

1  MS.  albabuntur. 


392  J.    D.    BRUCE. 

dicitur,  oportunitas  loci  et  temporis  reddit  latronem — quicquid 
maioris  estiraacionis  in  auro  et  argento  uariaque  suppellectili 
sibi  nidebatur  diripuit.  Infantem  quoque  et  thecam  ad  caput 
eius  stantera  in  qua  pallium  auulus  et  carta  continebantur 
uxori  tradens  (sic),  opibus  honusti  ad  sua  cum  festinacione, 
nullo  negocium  aduertente,  abscesserunt.  Institores  autem 
post  paululum  ad  naualia  regressi  dampnum  sibi  illatum 
rebus  sublatis  offendunt.  Cuius  rei  euentu  inopino  dolore 
perculsi  maximoque  merore  consternati  ad  gemitus  et  fletus 
omnes  conuersi  sunt,  diemque  in  lamentacionem  continuauerunt 
et  niaxime  ob  infantis  surrepcionem  quern  sue  fidei  constabat 
creditum.  Moxque  ad  hoc  idoneos  electos  per  uicina  lictora 
ruraque  nuncios  mittunt,  qui  rem  diligenter  indagarent  et  qui 
sibi  tantum  [dampnum]  intulissent  discrimine  inquirerent. 
Sed  quoniam  quod  omnium  latet  noticiam  difficile  depre- 
heuditur,  uichil  certitudinis  anticipantes,  ad  nauem  qui  missi 
fuerant  mesti  remearunt. 

Viamundus  autem  subtractam  cum  infautulo  substaneiam 
ad  casam  deferens  occuluit,  ipsumque  loco  filii,  quia  proprio 
carebat,  adliibita  diligencia  euutriuit.  Verebatur  tamen  opu- 
lenciara  qua  pollebat  in  palam  proferre — quia  et  egestas  qua 
hactenus  afficiebatur  exstabat  notissima  et  furti  quod  com- 
miserat  adhuc  fiebat  questio — ne  opum  ostentacione1  perpetrati 
sceleris  infamia  notaretur.  tCo1-2-]  Septem  autem  annorum 
transcurso  spacio  Romam  pergere  deliberauit,  et  faoti  peni- 
tudine  dtictus  et  quod  non  dubitabat  se  illo  ut  in  extranea 
regione  suis  facultatibus  licite  posse  uti.  Omnibus  igitur  uie 
necessariis  paratis  et  compositis,  uxore  filio  adoptiuo  familia- 
que  comitantibus,  cum  uniuersa  substancia  iter  arripuit  inque 
breui  sane  et  prospere  Romana  menia  attigit.  Ingressus 
autem  omni  die  urbem  circum  quaque  circumibat,  cunctaque 
perscrutaus,  statum  loci,  mores  ciuium  et  nomina  senatorum- 
ac  principum  callide  inquirebat.  Roma  uero  ea  tempestate 
ui  barbarorum  capta  et  subacta  fuerat  et  pene  usque  ad  inter- 
nicionem  desolata,  muris  dirutis,  edificiis  combustis,  ciuibus 

1  MS.  ostentacionem.  8  MS.  sanatorum. 


DE  ORTU   WALUUANII. 


393 


captiuatis  et  dispersis  uariisque  suppliciis  interemptis.  Sed 
nouus  in  imperio  imperator  successerat,  qui  mine  urbis  con- 
dolens  diruta  reedificabat,  ciues  disperses  congregabat,  captos 
redimebat,  summopere  dans  operam  earn  ad  pristine  felicitatis 
statum  reducere.  Quibus  Viamundus  agnitis  et  ut  erat  astuti 
ingenii,  rem  sibi  intelligens  ad  uotum  succedere,  nil  moratus, 
se  egregio  cultu  adornauit,  seruos  et  quam  plurima  mancipia 
a  uicinis  oppidis  magnosque  apparatus  comparauit,1  seruorum- 
que  numerosa  turba  uallatus  per  mediam  urbem  ad  palacium 
tendit,  omnibus  spectaculo  factus  cum  ex  splendidis  orna- 
mentis  turn  ex  se  anticipancium  multitudine,  veniensque 
[Foi. 24b, ooi.  i.j  acj  imperatorem  honorifice  suscipitur.  Cum  quo 
demum  colloquia  conserens  [narravit]  se  ex  nobilissima 
Romanorum  oriundum  familia  Gallieque  partibus  commora- 
tum  populi  ducatum  habuisse,  sed,  audita  urbis  clade  et 
infortunio,  se  conciuium  uires  adauctum  illo  properasse,  utque 
sibi  cum  suis  habitandi  in  ea  locum  tribueret  suppliciter 
flagitabat.  Imperator  autem,  eum  non  parue  generositatis 
cum  ex  ueneranda  canicie  cum  uariarurn  decore  rerum  turn 
e  satellitum  numerositate  estimans  et  coniciens,  quod  ad  se 
ueuerit  gracias  agit,  seque  eum,  si  in  urbe  coramoraretur, 
muHiplici  donaturum  spondet  honore.  Deditque  illi  aulam 
rnarmoream  mire  structure  stupendisque  comptam  edificiis 
pre  foribus  sui  palacii,  que  Scipionis  Affricani  testatur  fuit-se. 
Municipia  quoque  uineas  et  agriculturas  extra  urbem  con- 
tulit  suis  seruituras  expensis. 

Tanta  itaque  fortune  Viamundus  ultra  omnem  estimacionem 
nactus  beneficia  se  tarn  lepide  tamque  decenter  et  generose 
agebat,  ut  imperatorem  senatum  populumque  in  sui  admira- 
cionem  converteret  omniumque  se  amatum  traheret  affectus 
celebrisque  sermo  de  sua  largitate  et  munificencia  per  totam 
urbem  clam  palamque  ferreretur.  Senatorum  quippe  et  nobi- 
lium  Rome  ad  eum  cotidie  conuentus  fiebat,  nee  non  et  ab 
aula  imperiali  pretex[t]ati  pueri  militumque  turba  ob  graciam 
paruuli  confluebant  tCol-2-l?  quos  nariis  deliciis2  *  *  *  *  con- 


1  MS.  comperauit. 

7 


8  Word  following  undecipherable. 


394  J.    D.    BRUCE. 

uiuiis  donisque  honorabat  largissimis.  Crescente  interea  etate 
puero,  crescebat  et  anirai  uirtute  et  corporis  habilitate,  suique 
genitoris  qui  credebatur  emulator  existens,  Industrie  facecie 
probitatique  studebat.  Frequentabat  et  ipse  palacium  famil- 
iarisque  cum  subditis  habebatur  principi.  Quedam  enim  in 
illo  ingenite  vigebant  uirtutis  quibus  ^e  uidencium  animos  ad 
se  amandurn  extorquebat  et  alliciebat.  Erat  siquidem  procera 
decentique  statura,  lepido  gestu,  pulcra  facie,  ingentique  predi- 
tus  fortitudine.  Jamque  duodecirnum  eui  annum  attigerat, 
cum  Viamundus  graui  tentus  egritudine  lecto  decubuit.  Qui, 
ingrauescente  lauguore,  dum  sibi  uite  finem  imminere  cerneret, 
per  primores  ciuitatis  imperatorem  papamque  Sulpicium,  per 
id  tempus  apostolice  sedi  presidentem,  ut  ad  se  uenire  suaque 
colloquia  dignarentur  plurimum  exorabat.  Illi  atitem  tanti 
uiri  preces,  quern  ob  morum  liberalitatem  non  par um  dilexe- 
ra[njt,  minime  reuuentes,  assumptis  secum  uiris  excellenciori- 
bus  ciuitatis,  gratuito  affectu  ad  eum  conuenere.  Aduenientibus 
uero  Viamundus  primum  de  impertitis  sibi  ab  illis  beneficiis 
debitas  grates  exsoluit,  demum,  eos  secreto  conuocans,  uite 
prioris  statum,  quo  casu  tantarum  diuiciarum  gloriam  adeptus 
fuerit  puerumque  quern  educabat  reppererit,  totiusque  uite 
ordiuem  seriatim  exposuit.  Subiunxitque :  "Hoc  estnanti " 
inquit  "  animo  uestre  [Fo1- 25' co1' 1>]  celsitudini  sepius  intimare 
deliberaui  sed  semper  temporis  oportunitatem  usque  ad  pre- 
sens  distuli.  Nunc  autem  ultimo  fato  incumbente  ea  fateri 
compulsus,  licet  quod  postulo  homini  seruilis  condicionis  a 
tocius  orbis  dominis  iuste  negari l  possit,  tamen  amicicie 
familiaritatisque  memores  quibus  me  dignati  estis  mee  uos 
peticioni  non  abnuere  estimo.  Est  quidem  quod  uos  peti- 
turus  acciui,  hunc  puerum  quern  loco  filii  enutriui  et  cum 
quo  hec  omnis  mihi  rerum  copia  contigit  uestre  sullimitatis 
tuicioni  committere,  ut  eum  educantes  ad  militarem  ordinem, 
dum  etas  aifuerit,  promoueatis.  Nepotem  quippe  Arturi  regis 
Britannic — iam  enim,  patre  defuncto,  [regnum]  susceperat — 
de  quo  tante  probitatis  fama  ubique  uolat,  eum  esse  noueritis, 


DE   ORTU   WALUUANII.  395 

quern  a  parentum1  nobilitate  non  degeneraturum  non  dubito. 
Rem  tamen  ab  omnibus  et  ab  ipso  laudo  haberi  secretam,  nee 
etiarn  nomen  ipsius,  donee  a  suis  cognoscatur  parentibus,  pate- 
fiat,  quia  et  hoc  carte  monimenta  que  eius  testantur  prosapiam 
prohibent.  Vbi  autem  in  uirilem  etatem  proruperit,  cum 
uestris  litteris  et  sue  propaginis  certis  indiciis,  que  satis 
apud  me  habentur  probabilia,  oro  remittatur."  Puerumque 
aduocans,  qui,  quia  quo  nomine  censeretur  nesciebatur,  usque 
ad  illud  tempus  Puer  sine  Nomine  uocatus  fuerat,  impera- 
toris  amplexus  uestigia,  supplici  prece  summisque  uotis  eum 
commendauit.  Loculum  quoque  quo  testamenta  a  matre 
contradita  continebantur  iubens  .afferri  imperatori  ostendit. 
Quibus  [Col'2]  uisis,  imperator,  uiri  liberalitatem  circa  puerum 
habitam  multa  laude  efferens,  puerum  iniectis  brachiis  suscipit, 
se  eius  uoluntati  per  omnia  satisfacturum  spondens.  Sicque 
Viamundus  quod  maxime  affectauerat  pro  uoto  adeptus,  im- 
peratore  assidente,  letus  defungittir,  maximaque  lamentacione 
cunctorum  [in]  monumentis  nobilium,  constructa  desuper  ab 
imperatore  miri  operis  piramide,  sepelitur. 

Post  Viamundi  autem  obitum  Puer  sine  Nomine  ad  pala- 
cium  iussu  principis  duct  us  inter  regales  pueros  annumeratur. 
Trium  uero  annorutn  emenso  termino,  xv  scilicet  etatis  anno, 
sua  probitate  exigente,  arm  is  ab  imperatore  instruitur.  Cum 
quo  et  uiginti  alios  iuuenes  ob  graciam  ipsius  milicia  donauit. 
Indeqne  cum  ceteris  tironibus  iuuentuque  Romana  ad  circum, 
quo  cursus  equorum  fieri  solebant  progressus,  quanta  se  ea 
die  uirtute  egerit,  quam  strenue  gesserit,  fauor  omnium  circo 
astancium  eum  prosecutus  testimonio  fuit.  In  illo  siquidem 
spectaculo  nullus  ei  resistere,  uiribus2  equiparari  ualuit,  quin 
quemcunque  obuium  haberet  mutuo  congressu3  prosterneret. 
Qua  propter,  equiriis  celebratis,  aurea  quam  rex  uictori 
proposuerat  insignitus  corona,  pompa  cum  laudibus  eum 
prosequente,  in  presencia[m]  imperatoris  adducitur.  Quern 

1  MS.  apparentum. 

2  On  the  margin  is  written  nullus  eius  uiribus. 

3  MS.  congressi.    Doubtless  the  additional  stroke  at  the  end  omitted  by  mistake. 


396  J.  r>.  BRUCE. 

imperator  de  singular!  probitate  non  mediocriter  collaudans 
cuiuscumque  [Fo1' wt>> co1' 1-]  muneris  a  se  uoluisse  remunera- 
cionem  poscere  concessit.  Ille  autem  "nil  aliud"  ait  "tuam 
mihi,  O  imperator,  munificenciarn  opto  conferre,  nisi  ut  pri- 
mam  congressionem  sin^ularis  pugne  que  tibi  contra  tuorum 
aliquem  hostium  sit  agenda  concedat."  Annuit  imperator 
euruque  in  primo  equestrinm  constituit  ordine.  Prirna  uero 
die  qua  ipse  ad  miliciam  assumptus  fuerat  tunicam  sibi  par- 
auerat  purpuream,  quam,  ad  pretaxaturn  l  equestre  certamen 
processurus,  armis  superinducens,  tunicam  armature  nuncu- 
pauit.  Dumque  a  militibus  quereretur  cur  earn  super  arma 
induisset — neque  enim  antea  huiusmodi  tunica  armis  septus 
aliquis  usus  fuerat — respondit  se  tunicam  armature  ad  horna- 
tum  adhibuisse.  Ad  quod  responsum  ei  ab  omni  acclamatur 
exercitu  :  u  nouns  miles  cum  tunica  armature !  nouus  miles 
cum  tunica  armature !"  ac  deinceps  hoc  illi  mansit  uocabulum, 
"Miles  cum  tunica  armature."  Qui  altiori2  ab  imperatore 
promotus  honore  semper  ad  altiora3  uirtutis  et  probitatis 
tendebat,  cui  in  omni  congressu,  in  omni  certamiue,  celebre 
nomen  singularisqtie  fortitudo  ascribebatur. 

Dum  hec  Rome  geruntur,  bellum  inter  Persarum  regem 
Christianosque  lerosolimis  commorantes  oriri  contigit.  Ven- 
tumque  erat  ad  diem  prefinitum  certamini  et  tarn  equestrium 
quam  pedestrium  ingentibus  copiis  conferte  circumstantes  acies 
sibi  spectaculum  incutiebant  terroris,  distinctisque  ordinibus 
gradatim  tCo1-2-]  ad  prelium  appropriaba[n]t.4  Jamque  tubis 
clangentibus,  tensis  neruis,  telisque  erectis,  primipilares  dex- 
tras  conserere  festinabant,  dum  euo  consilioque  maturiores 
utriusque  partis,  considerantes  tante  multitudinis  (antique 
roboris  conflictum  non  sine  rnaximo  posse  fore  discrimine, 
in  medium  procedentes,  primum  refrenant  impetum  ac  de 
pacis  condieione  locuturos  ad  inuicem  legates  dirigunt.  Diu- 
tius  autem  inter  eos  locucione  habita,  tandem  in  hoc  uniuersi 

1  Cp.  Ducange  under  praetaxatus  (=  praetactus  =  praedictus). 
8  MS.  alteriori.  3  MS.  alteriora. 

4Cp.  Ducange  under  appropriare  (—  appropinquate). 


DE   ORTU    WALUUANII.  397 

dedere  consensum,  ut  hinc  et  inde  tinus  ad  duellum  eligeretur 
et  cui  cessisset  uictoria  cederet  et  rerum  unde  agebatur  domi- 
nium.  Verumptamen  lerosolomitani,  quia  hoc  sine  assensu 
Cesaris,  sub  cuius  degebant  imperio,  non  audeba[n]t  con- 
cedere,  sibi  dari  pacerunt1  inducias,  donee  ad  Cesarem  super 
hoc  re  legacionera  mitterent  et  eius  uoluntatem  agnoscerent ; 
se  uero  ad  hanc  paccionem  pronos  animo,  si  ab  eo  coneedere- 
tur,  iureiurando  asserebant.  Igitur,  concessis  induciis,  qui 
hanc  legacionem  fungerentur  eligunt,  electosque,  postposita 
dilacione,  mittunt,  precipientes  illos,  ut,  si  Cesarem  quod 
postulabant  minime  renuere  animaduerterent,  etiam  ad  propo- 
situm  certamen  idoneum  uirum  ab  eo  flagitarent.  Missi 
itaque  iter  maturantes  ad  imperatorem  ueniunt  inductique 
[in]  senatum  uie  causam  disertissime  perorauerant.  Im- 
perator  autem,  super  relatis  inito  consilio,  eorum  peticioni 
concedendum  deliberauit,  sed  quern  dirigeret  dubitabat.  Dum- 
que  uariis  sentenciis  sermo  intractaretur,  res  [Fol>  26>  col<  lp]  Militis 
cum  tunica  armature  defertur  ad  aures.  Qui,  nil  moratus, 
in  conspectu  imperatoris,  sumpta  audacia,  prorupit  atque 
"  O ! "  ait,  "  imperator,  tue  munificencie  te  opto  memorem 
[esse]  quam  me  ad  tyrocinium  delectum,  me  petente,  dig- 
nanter  donasti,  ut  primum  singulare  certamen  quod  tibi  tuos 
contra  aduersarios  ineundum  foret  mihi  annueres.  Ecce  non 
tantum  tibi  et  Romano  populo,  uerum  etiam  fidei  Christiane 
a  perfidis  bellum  indicitur.  Oro  tuam  sullimitatem  ut  mihi 
quod  concessit  permittat,  quatinus  et  tue  sponsionis  effectum 
assequar  et  Romani  populi  dignitatem  cultumque  religionis 
ulciscar."  Imperator  autera,  licet  tarn  probum  militem  et 
sibi  necessarium  a  se  dimittere  et  tanto  destinare  discrirnini 
admodum  egre  ferret,  tarnen  [quia]  et  sua  hoc  exigebat  pro- 
missio  et  illo  ad  tale  negocium  magis  nesciebat  idoneum — 
presertim  cum  ex  illius  qui  mittendus  erat  fortitudine  suorum 
omnium  uires  uirtutemque  pensandas  seque  dampnum  et 
dedecus,  si  uinceretur,  lucrum  autem  et  gloriam,  si  uicisset, 
manere  nouerat — ex  senatus  consultu  fieri  adiudicauit. 

1  MS.  pacierunt. 


398  J.    D.    BRUCE. 

Armis  itaque  bene  et  decenter  instrnctum  et  munitum  eiim 
imperator  cum  legatis  dirigit,  centum  ei  insuper  cum  uno 
centurione  adiunctis  equitibus,  ut  et  honorifice  pergeret  et 
siquid  sibi  per  tanta  terrarum  marisue  spacia  aduersi  con- 
tigisset  eorum  amminiculo  euitaret.  Nee  mora,  uiam  ineunt  et 
ad  mare  Adriaticum  deuenientes  naues  conscendunt.  Erant 
autem  rates  cum  [CoL2-]  eis  xvi,  quarum  alias  negociantes  alias 
ad  Joca  sancta  properantes  ob  piratarum  seuiciam  qui  per 
maris  latitudinem  uagabantur  in  eorum  comitatu  coadunaue- 
rant.  Hiis  igitur  coniunctis,  portum  deserentes  in  altum 
deferuntur.  Quo  diebus  xxv  tumidis  iactati  fluetibus,  dura 
nee  portum  petere  nee  rectum  possent  cursum  dirigere,  undi- 
que  procellis  surgentibus,  magnisque  circumacti  anfractibus, 
ad  quandam  insulam  gentis  barbarice  appulsi  suut.  Cuius 
incole  tante  feritatis  existebant,  ut  nulli  sexui,  nulli  paterent 
etati,  quin  sontes  et  insontes  ab  extranea  nacione  uenientes 
pari  pena  multarent.  Ideoque  a  nullo  petebantur  sectante 
commercia,  sed  ab  omni  gente  cui  tante  infamia  nequicie  inno- 
cuerat  uitabantur  manebantque  in  orbem  quasi  extra  orbem 
positi,  ab  omnium  consorcio  segregati.  Nam  et  omnium 
pecudum  ac  uolucrum  carne  uesci  inmodiceque  dicuntur, 
uolumptati  subditi,  ut  nee  patres  filios  nee  filii  a  quibus  sint 
geniti  prossus  agnoscant.  Trium  cubitorum  statura  mensuram 
non  excedit  etasque  ad  quinquagesimum  annum  protenditur. 
Raro  aliquis  infra  x  uita  diffungitur  nee  quinquagesimum 
superuiuens  annum  transgreditur.  Cultu  cibisqne  difFusi, 
laboribus  assueti,  diuiciis  affluentes  in  propagacione  sobolis 
.noscuntur  fecundi.  Jam  uero  fama  per  omnes  paganorum 
regiones  percrebuerat,  militem  ab  imperatore  missum  ad  ini- 
tum  uenire  duellum  cuius  congressum  nemo  sufFerre  ualebat. 
[Foi.  26b,  coi,  i.]  Ide0que  ac[  uniuersas  sue  dicionis  insulas  in  Egeo 
mari — quod  transfretaturus  erat — adiacentes  clanculo  man- 
dauerant,  ut  portus  et  lictora  iugi  excubacione  obseruarent,  et, 
si  forte  appulisset,  opprimerent,  ne  ad  statutum  diem  uenire 
potuisset.  Nee  non  et  piratas  diuersis  in  locis  lata  equoris 
statuerant  obsidere  spacia,  ut,  si  ab  hostia  obseruantibus  min- 


DE   ORTU   WALUUANII.  399 

ime  lesi  euasissent,  ab  hiis  qui  per  fretum  usque  discurrebant 
inopinate  exciperentur.  Regnabat  autem  ea  tempestate  in  ilia 
insula  quidam,  dictus  Milocrates,  inimicus  Romani  poptili,  qui, 
neptem  imperatoris  quam  regi  Illirico  dederat  ui  capiens  et 
abducens,  illam  insulam  potencia  occupauerat.  Huic  quoque 
sicut  et  ceteris  notificatis  insidiis,  ciuitates  et  oppida  que  uel 
pelago  imminebant  seu  penes  quas  aptos1  applicantibus  portus 
fore  compererat  militibus  et  custodibus  rnunierat,  ut  et  illi2 
transeuntem  infestarent  et  hec  appelleutes  subito  inuaderent. 
Lictora  autem  quibus  applicuerant  per  giruni  erant  circum- 
data  nemoribus,  minus  tamen  opima  agrestibus  animalibus, 
unde  ob  eorum  raritatem  et  ab  incolis  extraneisque  super- 
uenientibus  artius  seduliusque  seruabantur,  quorum  esu,  rege 
excepto  ac  eius  principibus,  nulli  fas  erat  perfrui. 

Hanc  igitur  ubi  prefatus  centurio  cum  sua  classe  est  nactus 
insulam,  Miles  cum  tunica  armature,  paucis  comitantibus, 
puppim  egressus  siluas  uenatum  adiit.  Jamque  vi  prostratis, 
[coi.  2.]  discopulatis  canibus,  vii  insequi  ceruum  ceperat,  dum 
ecce  canum  latratus  tubarumque  strepitus  in  interiorem  siluam 
positus  custos  percepit  nemoris.  Accitisque  sociis  quorum 
tutele  secum  silua  tueuda  a  rege  commissa  fnerat  arma  iubet 
capere.  Nam  xx  milites,  qui  illam  tuerentur,  disponebantur, 
quorum  absque  licencia  nulli  tutus  in  eo  patebat  ingressus. 
Arma  iussi  capiunt  atque  uenantibus  iam  preda  potitis  occur- 
runt.  Querunt  cuius  licencia  regia  depopulentur  nemora,  que 
nee  etiam  ingressu  pacifico  subire  cuiquam  licebat.  Jubentur 
arma  deponere  atque  pro  temeritate  patrata  indicium  subituri 
regem  adire.  E  contra  Miles  cum  tunica  armature  respon- 
dit:  "  Cuius  hue  aduenimus  eiusque  licencia  nobis  necessaria 
inuadimus,  nee  arma  nisi  in  uestris  uisceribus  recondita 
deponemus."  Dixerat  et  ualido  attorquens3  pila  lacerto  in 
turnido  rigidum  congessit  gutture  ferrum,  cuius  dextra  gram's 
compescuit  ora  minantis.  Custos  autem  nemoris  saucius  in- 
gemuit,  sed  cum  ipso  dolore  magis  intumuit  atque  e  plaga 
extractum  toto  conarnine  missile  in  Militem  cum  tunica  arma- 

1  MS.  aptus.  2  MS.  ille.  3  MS.  et  torquens. 


400  J.    D.    BRUCE. 

ture  remisit  quod  ab  eo  errore  delatum  robori  infixum  est. 
Nee  mora,  hinc  et  inde  concurrunt  ceteri  et  nunc  cominus, 
consertis  dextris,  sibi  inuicem  uulnera  ingruunt  nee  eminus 
telorum  iactu  confligunt.  Ex  parte  quidem  Militis  cum 
tunica  armature  plures  habebantur  sed  inermes,  cum  aduer- 
sariis  omnium  munimen  armorum  adesset.  Ac  Miles  cum 
tunica  armature,  dum  suos  cedere  uideret  postibus,  stricto 
gladio  CFo1- 27> coL L]  in  eorum  ducem  irruens  humo  prostrauit, 
apprehensoque  naso  cassidis  eum  ad  socios  traxit  ac  uita  cum 
armis  destituit.  Qtiibus  ipse  indutus,  propriam  hortatus  tur- 
mam,  inuasit  hostilem,  ceterisque  fugatis  xiii  solus  peremit. 
Fugientes  uero  per  siluarum  abdita  turba  insequitur  militum, 
omuesque  quos  assequi  possunt  ad  Tartara  dirigunt.  Cui 
cedi  unus  superstes  relinquitur,  ut  tante  cladis  existat  nuncius. 
Is  inter  densa  fruticum  se  o[c]culens  delituit,  donee  manus 
aduersaria  discedens  se  desisteret  persequi.  Qua  recedente, 
ocius  surrexit,  regem  adiit  atque  ei  que  gesta  fuerant  retulit. 
Morabatur  autem  tune  temporis  rex  Milocrates  in  finitima 
ciuitate,  quam  tribus  milibus  a  mari  amenissimo  in  loco  con- 
diderat.  Qui,  hostium  aduentu  suorumque  militum  interitu 
cognito,  missis  continue  nunciis,  tocius  prouincie  priucipes, 
cum  quanta  manu  ualerent,  quantocius  conuenire  imperat. 
UK  autem,  ut  imperatum  erat  et  loco  et  tempore,  cum  collecta 
multitiidine  adueniunt.  Aduenientes  autem  per  uicinos  pagos 
hospitabantur,  quia  predicta  eos  ciuitas  capere  non  poterat. 
Rex  uero  Milocrates  cum  eorum  principibus  quid  agendum 
foret  deliberabat. 

Interea  Miles  cum  tunica  armature,  deuictis  hostibus,  ad 
naues  regreditur,  cuius  uictorie  adeptis  remuneratus  spoliis 
omnis  congratulatur  exercitus.  Die  autem  tercia  inceptum 
affectabatur  iter  aggredi,  sed,  flabris  obstantibus,  in  [Col-2-J 
loco  coacti  sunt  remorari.  Centurio  igitur  nimis  inde  afflictus 
maiores  milicie  congregat  atque  ab  eis  de  patrandis  nego- 
ciis  consilium  expetit.  Affirmabat  enim  regem  illius  insule 
eiusque  principes  ob  suoriim  perniciem  Jam  se  contra  moueri 


DE   ORTU    WALUTJANII.  401 

eosque1  in  ulcionem  peremptornm  se  oppressum  ire  iam 
conspirasse,  ni  discessura  maturassent.  Se  autem,  sibi  aura 
remittente,  inde  discendere  Don  ualere,  nee  tutum  fore  illuc 
dicebat  manendurn,  dum  nee  ad  multittidinis  repulsionem 
hostium  railituna  haberetur  copia  nee  suis  expensis  tam  longo 
in  tempore  necessaria  suppeterent.  "Oportet"  inguit2  "igitur 
quempiam3  nostrum  uires  et  consilia  inuestigatum  ire  aduer- 
sariorurn,  ut,  cognitis  que  penes  eos  factitantur,  que  nobis 
agenda  sunt  utilius  prouideamus.  Dicta  ducis  placent  atque 
qui  hoc  exerceant  negocium  duo  de  omnibus  eliguntur,  quo- 
rum unus  Miles  cum  tunica  armature,  alter,  Odabal  dictus, 
centurionis  exstabat  consanguineus,  qui  et  in  dubiis  prouidi 
et  cauti  et  in  aduersis  probi  et  strenui  pre  ceteris  noscebantur. 
Hii  armis  septi  iussum  iter  arripiunt  atque  per  nemus  ad 
urbem  tendunt.  In  cuius  silue  aditu  aper  ille  in  manus 
occurrit,  colla  ad  modum  hastilium  setis  obsitus,  aduncis 
dentibus  rictus  munitus,  ab  cuius  ore  fulmine  euaporante, 
spumaque  per  armos  flueute,  obliquo  in  illo  impetu  ferebatur. 
Miles  cum  tunica  armature  autem,  illo  uiso,  de  sonipede 
desiliit,  ac  splendidum  dextra  uibrans  uenabnlum,  antequam 
se  copiam  aggrediendi  haberet,  in  illo  pedes  [FoL  ™' coL  1>]  irruit. 
Cuius  fronti  inter  supercilia  infixum  spiculum,  cetera  per- 
currens,  sibi  per  ilia  fecit  exitum.  Nee  tamen  statim  corruit, 
sed*  cum  accepto  uulnere  furorem  concepisse  uidebatur,  ut, 
tametsi  deficiente  sanguine  uires  plurime  defecissent,  quan- 
tumuis  dabatur  eum  cum  dente  impeteret.  Op[p]osito  uero 
egide  durn  ictum  Miles  cum  tunica  armature  exciperet,  euagi- 
nato  gladio,  capud  in  se  furentis  abscidit  ac  eum  in  suo  cruore 
uolutantem  dimisit.  Quern  equo5  impositum  ipsius  armiger 
sui  ex  parte  ad  centurionem  detulit  atque  citato  cursu  rediens 
ilium  ad  urbis  ualuas  mediante  die  anticipauit.  Ciuitatem 
autem  introgressi  palacium  adire,6  mixtique  cum  aliis  inter 
regales  quasi  forent  ex  ipsis  conuersabantur.  Innumerosa 

1  MS.  qui.  3  MS.  quodpiam.  6  MS.  eco. 

8  MS.  inquid.  4  MS.  set. 

6/s  this  intended  as  the  Historical  Infinitive? 


402  J.    D.    BRUCE. 

namque  turba  eos  qui  essent  non  deprehensi  sinebant,  dum 
etiam  et  hoc  ad  eorum  accidisset  tutelam,  quod  illius  patrie 
lingue  periciam1  non  ignorabant.  Vrbern  itaque  pagosque 
quoquouersus  perlustrantes  uirtutem  muneraque  milicie  inues- 
tigabant  aut  que  presens  aderat  ceu  quam  fore  uenturam 
audierant;  minime  qtiippe  adhuc  omnis  exercitus  conuenerat. 
Pridie  namque  rex  Milocrates  classem  Roraanorum  quosdam 
exploratum  miserat,  qui  repedantes  oppido  eum  terruerant, 
se  tantam  astipulantes  armatorum  repperisse  multitudinem, 
quantam  inermium  eius  insula  nunquam  coutinuisset.  Ex- 
ploratores  siquidem  a  centurione  capti  fuerant,  quos  ille  ibi 
moitem  minans2  se  talia  ducturos  sacramento  spondere  ccege- 
rat.  Insuper  et  eis,  quo  eos  tcoi.2.]  g^j  fideliores  haberet, 
plurima  dona  largitus  ad  propria  eos  dimisit,  vnde  rex  Milo- 
crates classem  inuasum  ire  nisi  cum  forti  manu  uerebatur. 
Germanum  autem  suum,  Buzafarnan  nomine,  confinia  regna 
regentem  per  legates  acciuerat,  ut  sibi  in  tanta  necessitate 
quanta  et  quam  cicius  posset  conferret  presidia.  Cuius  eo 
aduentum  expectante,  belli  protelabantur  negocia.  Eo  autem 
die  quo  Miles  cum  tunica  armature  urbem  aduenerat  rex  forte 
Milocrates  optimatum3  conuentum  coegerat,  ab  eis  sciscitans 
quid  in  rebus  instantibus  factu  opus  foret.  In  quo4'  ab  omni- 
bus statutum  est,  ut,  eius  fratre,  rege  Buzarfa[r]nan,  aduen- 
tante,  exercitus  duabus  distingueretur  in  partibus,  e  quibus 
una  nauali,  alia  terrestri  aduersarios  aggrederetur  prelio,  ut 
nullus  fuge  locus  pateret.  Miles  uero  cum  tunica  armature, 
inter  alios  incognitus  residens,  singula  que  dicebantur  intenta 
aure,  percepta  memori  mente  notabat. 

Jamque  Phebus  occiderat  et  rex  Milocrates  ad  prandium 
festinabat.  In  cuius  comitatu  se  agens  Miles  cum  tunica 
armature,  sociis  se  aforis  opperientibus,  regiam  ingreditur, 
ceterisque  discumbentibus,  cubiculum  quo  neptis  imperatoris 
seu  regina,  quam  rex  Milocrates,  ut  pretaxauimus,5  legitimo 

IMS.  pmca.  3MS.  oportunatum. 

8  MS.  minantem.  *  MS.  que. 

5  Cp.  Ducange  under  praetaxatus  (=  praetactus  =  praedictus). 


DE   ORTU   WALUUANII.  403 

uiro1  abstulerat,  cum  suis  dumtaxat  residebat  puellis,  nullo 
subit  sciente.  Tardior  qnippe  ora  uisus  hebetauerat  sed  nee 
quid  tale  posse  contingere  aliquis  autumabat?  Cepit  autem 
quid  ageret  apud  se  detFoL28>001>L:iliberare,  et  quicquid  sinistri 
sibi  obuenire  ualeret  sedulo  mentis  oculo  prouidere.  Si  enim, 
ut  proposuerat,  in  thalamo  delitescens  regi  sopito  necem  infer- 
ret,  uerebatur3  ne  et  ipse  deprehensus  similem  penam  lueret. 
Si  autem,  nulla  probitate  patrata,  repedasset,  profecto  pro 
inerte  timidoque  haberetur.  Dnm  talia  securn  uolueret,  qui- 
dam  miles,  Nab[a]or  nuncupates,  unus  scilicet  ex  illis  quos 
nuper  rex  classem  centurionis  exploratum  miserat,  missus  a 
rege  ad  reginam  aduenit.  Intuebatur  eum  Miles  cum  tunica 
armature  nee  ab  illo  aduertebatur ;  mos  quippe  est  quod  in 
umbra  constituti  luci  presentes  clare  aspiciant  ipsique  ab 
illis  incircumspecti  maneant.  Hunc  igitur  Miles  cum  tunica 
armature,  dum  cum  aliis  exploratoribus  a  centurione  captus 
teneretur,  firrna  uinxerat  amicitia,  anulumque  ei  cum  purpurea 
clamide  ob  sui  tradiderat  memoriam.  Eo  igitur  uiso,  ex 
amicicia  audaciam  sumit,  eumque  ad  se  clanculo  acciens  am- 
plectitur,  causam  aduentus  insinuat,  atque  quedam  quibtis 
eius  ergasse  experiretur  prelocutus,  fauorem — ubi  eum  sibi 
remota  fraude  animurn  aduertit  fauere — ad  ea  que  mente  per- 
ceperat  perpetranda  sibi  subsidio  fore  supplicatur.  Nabaor 
autem  admodum  ex  eius  presencia  admiratur  et,  cur4  uenerit 
cognito,  eius  remunerandi  munificenciam  locum  se  inuenisse 
gaudebat.  Secretiori  itaque  ei  indticto  thalamo,  *'O  mi" 
inquit  "earissime!  tuo  posse  mains  est  quod  affectas  nee  tuis 
solis  uiribus  appetendum.  Triginta  namque  forcium  tCol-2-3 
regis  accubitus  peruigiles  ambiunt,  uti  nee  etiam  familiaribus, 
usque  dum  dies  lucescat,  ad  eum  fiat  accessus.  Preterea  pleris- 
que  temporibus  industria  pocius  quarn  uiribus  scias  utendum, 
quia  etiam  ex  parte  uirium  industria  multociens  quod  cupilur 
prospere  efficitur,  sine  qua  ad  successum  negocii  nunquam 
uiribus  uenitur.  Hac  autem  comite,  propositum  aggredere, 

1  MS.  nuro.  3  MS.  verberabatur. 

2  MS.  attumabat.  4  MS.  cum. 


404  J.    D.    BRUCE. 

me  cum  te  quo  ordine  agatur  docente.  Regina  tui  nimio 
detinetur  amore  teque  uel  alloqui  seu  per  internuncios  tua 
cognicione  ardentissime  cupit  potiri.  A  me  enim  ab  explora- 
toris  redeunte  officio  cuius  forme  statureque  sis  sepius  est 
percunctata,  quern  utrisque  incomparabilem  esse  respondens 
eius  animum  in  tui  accendi  amorem,  ut  pocius  de  tui  quam 
de  regis  occupetur  salute.  Quamquam  nimirum  ut  huius 
regina  patrie  maximo  a  rege  Milocrate  honoris  et  glorie 
sullimetur  fastigio,  tamen,  quia  se  a  maritali  thoro  captam 
iure  predonis  menti  non  excidit,  semper  se  captiuitatis  reraor- 
det  obprobrium,  malletque  alias  cum  paupere  libera  quam  hie 
omni  rerum  pompa  suffulta  degere  captiua.  Audiens  autem 
te  ob  ingenitam  incomparabilemque  probitatem  ab  impera- 
tore  ad  pactum  destinatuni  conflictum  hue  appulisse,  toto 
conamine  nititur,  omni  studio  molitur,  ut  tuum  modo  adipisci 
possit  alloquium.  Sperat  namque,  si  tuam  attingat  noticiam, 
se  tua  uirtute  et  fortitudine  a  captiuitatis  iugo  liberandam  et 
suo  marito,  cui  ab  im^-^'^-^peratore  dotata  noscitur,  resti- 
tuendam.  Sciasque  procul  dubio  omni  industria  et  ingenio 
illam  operam  adhibituram,  omni  ab  ilia  sagacitate  curandum, 
ut  tibi  uires  et  ualorem  augeat  et  quod  uersum  regem  Milo- 
craten  preualere  efficiat.  '  Verumptamen,  quia  rnens  muliebris 
leuitatis  nota  arguitur  et  ad  quoslibet  motus  inconstancie 
cicius  aura  flectitur,  prius  callide  temptandum  est  quorsum 
eius  uergat  affectus.  Que,  si  te  adesse  comperisset,  nee  regis 
timor  nee  fame  pudor  earn  arceret,  quin  tecum  uerba  con- 
sereret.  Pergam  igitur  ad  earn,  regis  ei  mandata  laturus, 
atque  inter  cetera  de  te  sollertem  mencionem  faciens,  cui  parti 
eius  innitatur  inuestigabo  uoluntas.  Tu  uero  hie  interim  rei 
latenter  euentum  expecta." 

Regina[m]  itaque  Nabaor  adiit ;  inter  quos,  dum  uaria  mis- 
cerentur  colloquia,  de  Milite  cum  tunica  armature  tandem 
sermo  habitus  est.  Quern  dum  Nabaor  de  miris  ab  eo  patra- 
tis  operibus  multa  laude  efferret :  UO  me  felicern!"  inquit 
regina  "  si  apud  tarn  probum  uirum  mee  ualerem  miserie 
querelam  deponere  profecto !  si  non  ob  aliud,  saltim  ob 


DE   ORTU    WALUUANII.  405 

imperatoris  graciam,  cuius  neptis  ego  sum  et  cuius  miles 
ipse  est,  me  ab  huius  eriperet  tirannide !  Vellem  igitur,  si 
quempiam  fidelem  inuenirem,  ad  eum  nuncium  mittere,  si 
quomodo  nos  uisendi  et  colloquendi  nobis  detur  facultas." 
Erat  autem  Nabaor,  cum  quo  ilia  loquebatur,  unus  ex  illis 
quos  una  secnm  rex  Milocrates  seruitutis  uinculo  manci- 
pauerat.  Ideoque  tCo1-2^  illi,  ut  suorum  secretorum  conscio, 
sue  mentis  tucius  committebat  archana.  Cui  ille  respondit : 
"  Nil  tuis,  O  regina,  impediments  fore  uotis  rearis,  si  tibi 
dumtaxat  huiusmodi  inest  affectus,  nee  nunci[i]  opus  erit, 
tantura  fraus  desit,  dictis  tantummodo  concordet  uoltmtas, 
et  quern  adeo  affectas  presto  pro  uoto  aderit."  Ilia  autem  ad 
hec  iurante,  id  se-  uelle  optabilius  fieri  quam  audere  profiteri, 
Nabaor  Militem  cum  tunica  armature  ante  earn  duxit  et  rem 
ei  pro  qua  uenerat  pandit.  Porro,  ut  superius  ostensum  est, 
ille,  statura  uirili  decorus,  exstabat  aspectu  quo  se  aspeccian- 
ciurn  oculos  in  se  pre  decoris  admiracione  conuerteret.  Quern 
uenientem  regina  salutans  assidere  fecit,  diuque  diligenter  eura 
contemplata  tandem  lacrirnis  erumpentibus  imo  ex  pectore 
suspiria  protulit  et  quibus  grauaretur  erumpnis  aperuit,  eum 
sibi  adieiens  tantorum  malorum  posse  conferre,  si  uellet, 
remedium.  Et  ille :  u  Si  meum  uelle  posse  comitaretur, 
nempe  nullius  in  agendo  more  fieret  dilacio.  Sed  patet  regem 
numero  et  uirtute  nobis  prestare  milicie  et  iccirco  incertum 
est  quis  nos  belli  maneat  exittis.  Vnde,  si  quid  calles,  quod 
tuis  uotis  succedere,  quod  optatum  negocium  prospero  possit 
fine  terminare,  innotesce  nee  me  pigrurn  desidemue  in  exe- 
quendo  aduertes."  Ad  que  dum  regina  reticens  pa[u]lulum 
que  diceret  cogitaret,  Nabaor  ait:  "Minime  te  latet,  O  regina, 
regem  coadunare  exercitum  contra  hos  [FoL *• co1- 1-]  dimicatu- 
rum,  sub  cuius  frequencia  maximam  rebus  agendis  uideo 
adesse  oportunitatem.  Poteris  enim,  si  eius  tanta  cura  teneris, 
et  hunc  cum  sociis  ab  instanti  subtrahere  periculo  et  tuum 
affectum  adoptatum  effectum  perducere ;  regis  quippe  animus 
belli  occupatus  negociis  minus  de  ceteris  exstabit  solicitus. 
Manda  igitur  centurion i  per  hunc  xl  armis  instructos  hue 


406  J.    D.    BRUCE. 

die  postera  clanculo  per  siluarum  opaca  delegare,  ut  sequente 
die,  rege  contra  se  ineunte  certamen,  te  cam  tradente,  illi 
ciuitatem  occupent,  que  igne  incensa  regi  suisque  horrandum 
spectaculum,  illis  autem  uictorie  causam  preheat."  Ilia  uero 
que  dicta  sunt  eum  multis  precibus  peragere  rogitat.  Ensem 
regis  preterea  ac  eius  arma  ei  contulit  aurea,  de  quibus  fatatum 
erat  quod  ah  eo  deuictus  rex  regali  spoliaretur  apice  qui  preter 
ipsura  ea  primitus  induisset.  Auri  quoque  et  argeuti  magni- 
que  gemmarum  precii  copiosa  accumulauit  munera  insuper  et 
amicicie  coniunxit  federa.  Quibus  gestis,  ad  socios  Miles 
cum  tunica  armature  festinanter  reuertitur,  quos  ab  urbe  edu- 
cens  diluculo  ad  centurionem  peruenit;  cum,  dona  sibi  collata 
ostendens,  que  gesserat,  uiderat,  audierat,  intimatiit. 

Centurio  igitur  ultra  quam  credi  potest  pro  spe  exhilaratus 
uictorie  iussit  milites  qui  ad  reginam  destinarenttir  eligi. 
Electis  uero  Odabal  suum  prefecit  consanguineum,  eumque  ut 
caute  et  prouide  sibi  commissos  duceret  hortatus  dimisit. 
per[coi.  2.]gen|-es  Jtaque  ad  uineam,  que  regie  confiuis  erat,  die 
secunda  iam  uesperascente,  peruenere,  in  qua  iussu  regine  a 
Nabaor  intromissi  nocte  tota  latuere. 

Mane  autem  illucescente,  rex  Milocrates  contra  centurionem 
conflicturus  cum  exercitu  ciuitatem  egreditur,  cuius  ante  mai- 
orem  partem,  suo  fratre  duce,  hostes  autem  tergo  inuasuram 
classe  permiserat,  ut  utrimque  bello  circumdati  cicius  sibi 
cederent.  At  centurio,  percognito  eorum  consilio,  naues  in 
continentem  circum  castra  locauerat,  ut  etiam,  si  opus  esset, 
ad  se  refugientibus  forent  munimini.  Producit  et  ipse  e 
castris  miliciam,  que  parum  ab  ponto  Into1  in  loco  constitu- 
erat,  militesque  turmas  in  v  partitur,  quarum  medie  ipsemet 
preficitur.  Gradiebaturque  distincte  ex  regis  aduerso,  quem 
xv  milia  armatorum  stipabant  acies.  Sed  quamuis  numero 
roboreque  precellerat,  bellatorum  spe  tamen  miuime  potie- 
batur  uictorie,  armis  scilicet  ablatis  in  quibus  sui  regnique 
constare  tutelam  nouerat.  Que  dum  iturus  ad  prelia  requireret 
et  nequaquam  inuenisset,  omnis  boni  successus  sibi  spes  menti 


MS.  tuo. 


DE   ORTU   WALUUANII.  407 

excidit,  nee  ea  Militera  cum  tunica  armature  habere  comperiit, 
donee  ipsum  illis  indutum  in  campo  pungnaturus  aspexit. 
Ad  quorum  uisum  nimis  perteritus  infremuit,  quia  hoc  quod 
postea  euenit  sibi  nimis  uere  ratus  expauescebat.  Non  tamen 
ab  incepto  ualebat  desistere,  quia  uel  laudabiliter  occumbere 
uel  fortiter  uincere  sue  uidebat  glorie  expedire. 

Clangor  igitur  utrimque  tubarum  insonuit,  quo  et  animis 
audacia  et  [FoL 29b> °°1- L]  hostes  aggrediendi  signum  solet  con- 
tribui.  Maniptilaresque  iam  concurrere  ceperant,  dum  ecce 
f urn  us  de  ciuitate  in  sullime  euaporans  quid  in  ea  ageretur 
sui  declarabat  indicio.  Vbi  namque  rex  ad  pungnam  pro- 
perans  ab  ilia  egressus  est,  confestim  hii  qui  in  insidiis 
morabantur  surgentes  illam  sue  dicioni  mancipauerant  ac 
eius  suburbana,  igne  inmisso,  accenderant.  Flamma  autem 
altiora  petente,  remocius  positis  iam  ciuibus  urbis  patebat 
exit[i]urn,  ut  etiam  austro  acte  per  pugnancium  ora  uoli- 
tarent  fauille.  Cor  itaque  regis  pro  imminenti  expauit  dis- 
cidio,  atque,  certamine  inchoato  postposito,  succursum  ire  urbi 
festinabat. 

[The  following  verses  are  written  as  prose  in  the  MS.] 

Agmina  turbari  telisque  manns  uacuari, 

Conspiceresque  uage  et  consul uisse  fuge. 
Mille  uias  ineunt,  non  est  tamen  una  duobus ; 

Sic  hostes  fugiunt  ceu  canis  ora  pecus. 
Instat  et  insequitur  contraria  pars  fugientes, 

Et  quos  assequitur  clade  dat  esse  pares. 
Cautibus  obruitur  pars,  pars  punita  recumbit ; 

Que  neutrum  patitur,  uincula  dira  luit. 

Miles  autem  cum  tunica  armature  dissipari  fugarique  subito 
hostium  cuneos  conspiciens,  conglobato  milite,  insequitur, 
maximaque  in  eis  strage  grassatur,1  quippe  quos  non  solum 
flamma  urbis  conflagrans  edificia  terruerat,  uerum  etiam  ipsa 
quam  inierant  fuga  eos  plurimum  mente  manuque  dissolutos 
reddiderat.  Dispersi  itaque  per  conuexa  moncium,  per  deuia 
siluarum,  ceu  grex  lu[c°L2<]porum  impetitus  rabie,  ad  menia 

1  MS.  crassatur. 


408  J.    D.    BRUCE. 

tendebant,  sineque  intermissione  ab  insectancium  punibantur 
gladiis.  Milites  quoque  qui  exteriorem  urbis  partem  inflam- 
mauera[n]t,  fugientibus  occurrentes,  eos  a  meniis  arcebant  et 
ad  campum  retorquentes  in  eorum  quos  fugiebant  manns  com- 
pellebant  incidere.  Fiebat  utriraque  horrencla  cedes  ipsaque 
sui  impediebantur  numerositate,  ut  nee  ad  fugam  nee  ad 
sui  defensionem  habiles  haberentur.  Mouebantur  et  absque 
uindice,  ut  uulgus  inerme,  nullusque  petenti  dextram  dare 
dignatus  est. 

Tandem  autem  rex  Milocrates,  ubi  se  ab  hostibns  undique 
circumueniri  conspexit,  sibi  fore  duxit  infame,  si,  nullo  claro 
perpetrate  facinore,  occumberet.  Disperses  itaque  adunit  in 
cuneum,  sibique  insistentes  uiriliter  inuadens  primo  congressu 
aduersariorum  refrenat  impetum  ac  sibi  compellit  cedere. 
Dextraque  quam  plures  propria  puniens,  ceteros  ad  fugam 
uertebat,  donee  Miles  cum  tunica  armature,  suos  ab  illo 
commilitones  male  tractari  aduertens,  admisso  equo,  obuiam 
fertur.  Venientem  rex  Milocrates  audacter  excipit,  inuicem- 
que  congressi  uterque  ab  altero  equo  prosternitur.  Ac  Miles 
cum  tunica  armature  cicius  erectus  iam  surgere  conantem, 
stricto  mucrone,  in  regem  irruit  letalique  affecisset  uulnere, 
ni  ictus  ab  obiecto  cassaretur  clipeo.  Quern  licet  sit  nulla 
secuta  lesio  magna^  tamen  hebetacio  peruenit  cerebro,  ut 
iterum  relapsus  unius  hore  spacio  sopito  iaceret  similis. 
[FOI.  so,  coi.  i.]  Quem  secundo  mucrone  uolenti  impetere  probus 
iuuenis  regis  ei  nepos  occurrit,  ac  ore  et  manu  minitans  a 
leuo  eques  Militem  cum  tunica  armature  inuadit.  Cuius 
incursus  Miles  cum  tunica  armature  pedes  a  se  scuto  protectus 
reppulit  atque  sibi  fortuna  oblatum  amento  intorquens  iacu- 
lum,  non  umbo,  non  ferrea  lorica  obstitit,  quin  sub  stomacho 
exceptum  suis  maiora  minitantem  uiribus  cum  selle  carpella 
confoderet. 

Illo  denique  prostrato,  regem  repetit,  sed  maiori  quain 
existimauerat  ab  illo  audacia  exceptus  est.  Respiranti  nam- 
que  pudor  et  ira  uires  ministrauera[n]t,  pristine  dignitatis 

1  MS.  magma. 


DE   ORTU   WALUUANII.  409 

et  probitatis  eius  ante  mentis  oculos  reducentes  memoriam, 
eumque  ut  se  de  inimicis  ultum  iret  instimulauerant,  se 
minime,  ut  quempiam  plebeiurn,  censentes  penas  soluendum, 
presertim  dum  sibi  non  ulla  de  sui  erepcione  spes  suppeteret 
[quara]  operam  dare  ne  suis  de  se  leta  hostibus  perueniret 
uictoria.  Aduenientem  igitur  Mil  item  cum  tunica  armature 
ipse  prior  impetit,  gladio  eiusque  qua  galea  inmunita  erat 
fronti  uulnus  inflixit,  nique  nasus  qui  a  casside  deorsum 
prominet  fuisset  presidio,  una  mortem  intulisset  cum  uulnere. 
Miles  cum  tunica  armature  autem  sauciatus  mente  effrenatur, 
timensque  ne  profluente  uisus  hebetaretur  sanguine,  sue  ab 
illo  penas  exacturus  iniurie,  regem  aggreditur,  ac  ensem  obli- 
quo  ceruici  ictu  inferens  caput1  cum  dextro  ei  prescidit  brachio. 
Quo  occumbente,  hii  cum  eo  [qui]  [Co1-2-]  restiterant  fuga 
labuntur,  in  qua  sue  sola  spes  constabat  salutis.  At  centurio, 
multitudini  parcere  uolens,  tuba  ne  fugientes  persequerentur 
militibus  significari  imperat,  sciens,  duce  subacto,  qui  sube- 
rant  sine  prelio  cessuros.  Exin,  hostium  collectis  spoliis, 
cum  triumphali  pom  pa  urbem  ingrediuntur  fornixque  eis 
exigitur.  Quibus  regina,  neptis  imperatoris,  occurrens  eos  in 
regiam  ducit  atque  bello  plurimum  fatigatos  omni  refouet 
diligencia.  Occisis  sepulturam,  sauciis  curani  mandat  adhi- 
beri  rnedele,  omnibusque  se  munificentissimam  exhibuit  ac 
debitis  omnes  premiis  remunerauit. 

Centurio  autem  apud  hanc  insulam  xv  perhendinans2  diebus 
patriam  exercitui  diripiendam  permisit,  principes  et  magis- 
tratus,  quod  cum  hoste  Eomani  populi  consensissent,  serratis 
carpentis  transegit,  populum  graui  condicione  uectigalium 
multauit.  Parteque  milicie  ibi  ob  tutandam  insulam  relicta, 
reginaque,  uepte  imperatoris,  cum  uiris  electis  ad  uirum  legiti- 
muni  regem  Illirie,  a  quo  ui  rapta  fuerat,  remissa,  cunctis 
secum  illius  prouincie  assumptis  militibus,  classem  cum  sociis 
refectam  ascendit,  legacionem  quam  inceperat  perfecturus. 
Cumque  iam  per  undas  equoreas  iter  confecisset  diurnum, 

1  MS.  capud. 

2  Cp.  Ducange  under  perhendinare  (=  morari). 

8 


410  J.    D.    BRUCE. 

eccus  (sic)  regis  Milocratis  germanus,  cuius  regnum1  obtinu- 
erat,  cum  classe  Don  minima  occurrit.  Missus  quippe  a 
rege  [Fol- ^ co1' 1-]  Milocrate,  ut  prefatum  est,  antequam  bellum 
ageretur,  oppres[s]um  classem  centurionis  fuerat,  ut  utrimque 
circumdatus  et  terra  et  mari  sibi  obstrueretur  refugium.  Sed 
ad  stolum,  ad  stacionem  uidelicet  nauium  centurionis  ueniens 
nee  naues  nee  eius  repererat  exercitum.  Parum  quippe  remo- 
cius  ab  equore  castra  muuierat,  ea  extrinsecus  quoquouersus 
prora  (sic)  ad  sui  statuentes  munimen.  Existimans  autem 
rex  Egesarius — sic  etenim  dicebatur  frater  regis  Milocratis — 
eos  fugisse,  uerso  rernige,  in  alto  defertur  equore,  quo  tumidis 
triduo  iactatus  fluctibus,  dum  hostia  repetere  disponeret,  undi- 
que  procellis  surgentibus,  ad  longius  remotas  prouincias  itinere 
dierum  v  appulsus  est.  Sed2  iam  se  aura  leuius  redibat  agente 
ac  medio  in  pelago  centurionis  classi  habetur  obuius. 

Fortuitu  autem  ipse  centurio  in  turre  quarn  loco  propugna- 
culi  in  puppe  erexerat,  Milite  cum  tunica  armature  assidente, 
residebat,  pelagi  late  uisu  ambiens  spacia.  Et  primitus  qui- 
dem  simulacra  contemplatus  est  que  ad  galli  aut  ad  alicuius 
rei  speciem  composita  malis  imponuntur,  ad  experiendum 
uidelicet  quo  flabro  agatur  carina.  Cuicumque  namque  parti 
mundi  climatum  flatus  uergitur,  semper  ei  aduersa  fronte 
obsunt.  Hec  igitur  malo  inuexa,  dum  nunc  ad  altiora,  nunc 
ad  inferiora  aura  agente  pellerentur,  uexilla  ceyces  ratus, 
gubernatorem  nauis  aduocat  atque  "Heus!"  inquit,  "ut  opi- 
nor,  nobis  tempestas  ualida  imminet.  En  namque,  ut  ille 
uolucres  pennis  applaudentes  orbiculatim  per  inania  cursus 
dirigunt,  quasi  futurorum  prescie  sua  prelibant  gaudia,  nostra 
earum  ingluuiei  predam  fore  cadauera  ferunt,  quippe,  immi- 
nente  procella,  aues  huiusmodi  turn  gregatim  turn  separatim 
circa  remigantes  crebros  girando  exercere  [solent]  uolatus 
earumque  gestus  cladem  portendere  futuram."  Miles  autem 
cum  tunica  armature  tune  ei  assistens  et  rem  ut  erat  intelli- 
gens  "Tua  te'7  ait,  "dornine,  fallit  opinio.  Aues  namque  non 
sunt  quas  te  credis  cernere  sed  signa  summitatibus  malorum 

2  MS.  set. 


DE   OETU   WALUUANII.  411 

apposita.  Sciasque  procul  dubio  classem  aduentare  hostilem, 
iam  dudum  a  rege  tuis  subiugato  uiribus  nos  persecutum 
missam.  Forsitan  quippe  aliqua  tempestate  urgeute  exter- 
Dam  coacti  sunt  petere  regionem,  quod  usque  ad  presens  sibi 
more  causa  exstitit.  Nunc  uero,  suis  uotis  aura  fauente, 
redeunt.  Militibus  itaque  arraa  capere  impera  nee  nos  aduer- 
sarii  inermes  repperiant." 

Ad  imperium  igitur  centurionis  qui  in  ilia  naue  habeban- 
tur  arrnantur,  ceterisque  carinis — nam  xxx  erant,  xv  scilicet 
quas  illo  adduxit  et  totidem  quas  a  subacta  insula  prioribus 
adiunxit — idem  faciendi  dant  signa  tibicines.  Ordinantur 
que  a  fronte,  que  a  dextra  uel  leua  hostes  inuadant,  que 
etiam  quasi  insidiando  circumueniant.  Quinque  autem  quas 
rostratas  habebat,  in  quarum  prima  ipse  erat,  [*"oi. si, coi. i.]  jn 
fronte  constituit,  subito  lintres  aduenientes  aggressuras  hos- 
tiles.  Hoc  quidem  uauium  genere  piratici  maxime  nauale 
exerceutes  prelium  utuntur,  cuius  uis  tarn  immanis  est,  ut 
quamcumque  ratem  impeterit  a  summa  usque  ad  inferiorem 
pro[s]cindat  tabulam.  Iccirco  uero  rostrate  dicuntur,  quod 
omne  spaciutn  inter  proram  et  carinam  eminens  ferro  tegitur, 
cristam  aduncis  premunitam  ferreis  habens  in  longitudine 
prori,  autem  in  uertice  ferrea  gerunt  capita  ad  modum  galli 
cristatis  rostris  munita.  Eriguntur  quoque  propugnacula 
quibus  uiri  impouuntur  fortissimi,  inpungnancium  impetum 
a  summo  refrenaturi  saxis  et  iaculis.  Onerarie  autem  puppes 
retro  locantur,  ut,  si  milite  instructe  cederent,  saltim  uel  ipse 
manus  diripiencium  effugerent. 

Omnibus  itaque,  ut  expediebat,  dispositis,  iactatis  ancho- 
ris,  aduentum  opperiebatur  hostium.  Jamque  inimica  classe 
apparente,  dictis  Militis  cum  tunica  armature  uisus  fidem 
prebebat  eumque  insinuabat  non  falsum  opinatum  fuisse. 
Cateruatim  et  ipsi1  classem  distinguunt  nee  minori  astucia 
singula  tali  discrimini  necessaria  preuident.  Miles  autem 
cum  tunica  armature,  eos  ad  bella  paratos  appropinquare 
intuens,2  *  *  *  confestim  sublatis  anchoris  solui,  uentisque 

IMS.  ipse.  8  Word  following  undecipherable. 


412  J.    D.    BRUCE. 

uela  committens  ipsas  remis  iubet  impelli,  atque,  exercitu  per 
transtra  et  tabulata  disposito,  prior  in  liburnum  quo  dux 
hostium  uehebatur  irruit.  Cuius  prorum  £Co1-2-]  Una  cum 
carina  confrigens  impetu  inmodicum  adusque  malum  ictum 
perduxit,  quod,  rostro  impingente,  fractum  undas  corapulit 
oppetere  uertice.  Assunt  et  alie  rates  Militi  cum  tunica 
armature  presidio  quassatamque  nauem  circumdant,  et,  licet 
se  strenue  defensarent,  repungnantes  opprimunt.  E  quibus 
quosdam  inuoluunt  fluctibus,  quosdam  securibus  obtruncant 
et  gladiis.  Reliquam  autem  partem  uinclis  edomant,  atque, 
uiriliter  pungnante  ne  uiuus  hostium  manibus  incideret  per- 
empto  principe,  opes  et  exuuias  diripiunt  phaselumque  pelago 
submergunt. 

Post  horum  autem  perniciem  Miles  cum  tunica  armature 
audacius  in  superstites  progreditur.  A  quibus  cum  clamore 
et  iunctis  uiribus  exceptus  circumdatur  atque  a  suis  secretus 
quoquouersus  ualde  impugnatur.  Missilium  iactu  aera  obfus- 
cari  eorumque  mnltitudine  freti  superficiem  operiri  uideres. 
Hinc  et  inde  ingens  caucium  moles  uoluebatur,  quorum  strepi- 
tus  non  minus  horroris  quam  discriminis  efficiebat.  Omni 
telorum  instant  genere,  ratem  Militis  cum  tunica  armature 
uiolare  intentes,  sed  singule  sibi  tabule  laminis  incastrate 
ferreis  nullius  ictibus  soluebantur,  licetque  tantis  hostium 
stiparetur  cuneis,  non  tamen  minora  patrabat  quam  pacie- 
batur  facinora.  Cuius  ubi  hostes  animaduertere  pertinaciam 
eumque  malle  mori  quam  uinci  nee  uiribus  eum  posse 
submitti  nee  cedere  tutum  instanti,  piram,1  ignem  uidelicet 
Grecum,  eius  in  lintrem  iaculati  sunt. 

[Foi.sib.coi.i.]  Diuersjs  autem  modis  fit  ignis  huiusmodi.  Ac 
cuius  uis  ad  peragenda  quibus  adhibetur  negocia  maior  perti- 
naciorque  existit,  hoc  ordine  conficitur.  Hii  quibus  ilium 
conficiendi  pericia  est  uas  primitus  aptant  eneuni  et  quot 
uoluerint  rubetas  accipiunt  atque  in  eo  carne  columbina  et 
melle  per  iii  menses  alunt.  Quo  spacio  completo,  biduo  uel 

1  Obviously  an  attempt  to  Latinize  Greek  irvp. 


DE   ORTU   WALUUANII.  413 

triduo  ipsos  in  pastes  relictos  lacte  proleque  fete  raammis 
alicuius  bestie  applicant,  cuius  lac  tarn  diu  sugendo  ebibunt 
donee  ultro  saturi  decidant.  Tumentes  autem  uenenifero 
liquore,  rogo  subposito,  imponuntur  uasculo.  Quibus  et 
chelindri  serpentes  adhibentur  aquatici  quos  denis  ante  diebus 
busto  inclusos  huruanum  pauerit  cadauer.  Est  et  aspis1 
uenenifera2  atque  mortifera  tria  uno  in  gutture  gerens  capita, 
cuius  nomen  menti  excidit,  animal  uenenosum  quicquid  atti- 
gerit  irremediabili  peste  corrumpens.  Tell  us  naraque  eius  ad 
tactum  herba  et  segete,  unda  piscibus,  arbores  destituuntur 
fructibus,  et  unum  magis  mirandum  est :  si  uel  minutissima 
stilla  arborem,  cuiuslibet  grossitudinis  sit,  infecerit,  more 
cancri  corrodens,  quo  loco  ce[ci]derit  per  medium  consumpto, 
humi  sternit.  Nullam  huic  cladi  medelam  obesse  posse  com- 
pertum  est,  quin  homines  et  pecudes,  si  uel  saltim  cutis 
superficiem  attigerit,  in  talia  penetrans  statim  perimat.  Vis 
cuius  quanta  sit  e  flamma  eius  ab  ore  euaporante  maxime 
[coi.  2.]  pOtest  perpendi,  qua,  dum  ipsa  maiori  estu  uritur, 
sepius  quam  inhabitat  silua  inflammatur.  E  sanie  aulem 
eius  ab  triplici  rictu  profluente  tres  herbe  gignuntur,  scilicet 
ex  singulis  singule.  Quarurn  primam,  siquis  cibo  uel  potu 
sumpserit,  mente  mutata,  in  rabiem  vertitur,  secunda  una 
cum  gustu  se  necem  iufert  gustanti,  tercie  uero  succus  se 
potatum  aut  uuctum  regis  morbo  inficit.  Hec  autem  ubi 
adoleuerunt  gramina,  infamis  ipsa,  si  inuenerit,  deposcitur 
bellua.  Capta  quoque,  antequam  prefato  adhibeatur  negocio, 
illarum  per  septimauam  impinguatur  pabulo.  Fel  quoque  et 
testiculi  lupi  non  desunt  ambigui,  qui  uento  et  aura  progenitus 
quicquid  attigerit  tacte  rei  in  se  figuram  accipit.  Calculus 
autem  ligurius  orbe  in  extreme  repertus  non  minimum  inter 
cetera  locum  optinet,  eadem  qua  et  ipse  uirtute  preditus,  e 
cuius  concreta  urina  peruenire  creditur.  Lincis  namque  nil 
obstat  obtutibus,  ut  etiam  cis  consistens  materiam  quid  citra 
agatur  certo  contempletur  lumine.  Caput3  etiam  cor  et  iecur 
cornicis  nouena  metite  secula  horum  uires  adauctum  adiciun- 

a  MS.  venenifa.  3MS.  capud. 


414  J.    D.    BRUCE. 

tur.  Sulphur  autem  pix  et  resina,  oleum  cartarum  et  bitumen 
minime  adimuntur  predictis,  que  quern  adhibite  flamme  cito 
feruorem  corripiunt  sero  deponunt. 

Hec  igitur  ubi  collecta  fuerint,  quo  retuli  ordine,  cacabo  ex 
ere  includuntur  purissimo  locataque  usque  ad  osl  uasisrit/j2 
hominis  draconisque  superfunduritur  cruore.  Sanguini  quippe 
[Foi. 32,coi.i.]  ruj}2  jgnea  natura  inesse  creditur,  quod  et  color  pili 
et  que  maxime  in  huiusmodi  uigere  solet  uiuacitas  patenter 
ostendit  ingenii.  luuentus  autem  cui  barba  et  cesaries  rufa* 
fuerit,  eiusdem  coloris  impetigines  faciem  asperserint,  pulcro 
inducitur  thalamo  omniumque  apparatu  dapium  unius  mensis 
delicate  impinguatur  spacio.  Singulis  quoque  diebus,  foco  ante 
enm  accenso,  ad  auctum  sanguinem  (sic)  uino  inebriatur  sed 
sedule  a  femineis  seruatur  amplexibus.  Mense  uero  expleto, 
in  medio  domus  hinc  et  inde  ad  eius  longitudinem  igniti 
stern untur  carbones,  inter  quos  ipse  cibo  potuque  inpurgita- 
tus,  depositis  indumentis,  exponitur  ac  more  ueruum  utique 
in  latere  ad  ignem  uersatur.  Sufficienter  autem  calefactus, 
iamque  uenis  toto  turgentibus  corpore,  fleobotomatur,  scilicet 
utri usque  brachii  fibris  ex  transuerso  incisis.  Interim  uero 
durn  sanguinem  minuit,  ad  refocillandam  mentem  offas  in 
uino  accipit,  ne,  ilia  debilitata  uel  in  extasi  rapta,  liquor 
concreatur  (sic)  optatus.  Tarn  diu  autem  sanguis  effluere 
sinitur,  donee  eius  defeccio  mortem  inducens  animam 'corpore 
eiciat.  Et  primum  quidem  cruore  draconis  admixto  per  se 
calefit  diutissime,  dein  ceteris  superfusus  omnia  simul  con- 
fundit. 

Si  autem  queritur  quomodo  draco  prendatur,  uiri  eliguntur 
fortissimi  qui  prius  eius  qua  latitat  scrutentur  tCol-2-J  cauer- 
nam,  inuentaque,  per  girum  eius  aditus  soporifera  gramina 
uariis  sternunt  aromatibus  tincta.  Quorum  terre  hiatum 
exiens  dum  draco  fragranciam 4  sentit,  ea  auide  consumens, 
statim  sopore  opprimitur  ac  ab  insidiantibus  tuto  in  loco  non 
eminus  abditis  circumuentus  obtruncatur.  A  quibus  eius  una 

1  MS.  lios.  2  MS.  ruffi.  :t  MS.  rufa.  4  MS.  flagranciam. 


DE   ORTU  WALUUANII.  415 

cum  gemma  draconcia  asportatur,  quam  eius  eliso1  excutiunt 
oerebro,  et  hinc  multimedia  adhibenda  [est]  negociis. 

Vas  autem  in  quo  hec  considencia  sunt  tripos  est,  cuius 
ansato  summitas  art-is  preartatur  faucibus,  cooperculum  ex 
ere  habens.  Quo,  dum  clauditur,  ita  sibi  utrumque  incastra- 
tur,2  ut  nee  uel  modicus  uapor  inde  euaporet  fumi.  Omnibus 
uero  illi  impositis,  ignis  confestim  supponitur,  atque,  vii 
continuis  diebus  totidemque  noctibus  pice  naptaque  flamme 
iniectis,  ut  magis  ferueat,  ebullitur.  Fit  quoque  et  uirga  aerea, 
cuius  curuata  summitas  ad  modum  clepsedre  coaptatur,  qua 
paruum  foramen  quod  in  uasis  cooperculi  patet  uertice  vi 
priori  bus  obturatur  diebus.  Septima  autem  die  flamma  in 
cacabo  accensa,  inmanis  strepitus,  ac  si  terre  motus  fieret, 
intro  auditur,  aut  si  eminus  positus  feruentis  pelagi  aure  mur- 
mura  percipias.  Succense  autem  flamme  ubi  nottim  minister 
signum  perceperit,  clepsedram  exterius  peracer[r]imo  per- 
fundit  aceto,  cuius  soliditatem  penetraus  iam  nitentis  erumpere 
flamme  restringit  impetum. 

Folles  autem  quante  sufFecerint  quibus  [FoL 32b>  coh  1<]  ignis 
abdatur  parantur  aenee,  quarum  incastrature 2  ita  sibi  anfracte 
compaginantur,  ut  serins  hec  flamma  quam  que  e  ligno  et 
corio  fiunt  uenti  pendrentur3  afflatu.  Sed  et  adeo  exstant 
tractabiles  ut  magis  e  corio  quam4  aere  composita  crederes. 
Flamma  itaque  iniecto  aceto  a  suo  feruore  cohibita,  clepsedra 
exirnitur  atque  ductilis  calamus  in  folle  preminens  foramini 
uasis  apponitur.  Cuius  attractu  aure  ignis  a  cacabo  exhauri- 
tur.  Statim,  ne  exeat  os  calami,  clepsedra  obturatur.  Sic 
et  in  ceteris  ignis  seruandus  recipitur.  Pars  uero  parua  in 
cacabo  relinquitur  cui  cotidie  fomes  qua  nutriatur  adhibenda. 
Nee  non  et  folium  in  medio  ad  modum  fenestrule  parua 
habentur  foramina,  per  que  ne  extinguatur  flamma  alitur. 

1  MS.  elisio. 

8Cp.  Ducanye,  Incastratnrae :  "  Incastratura,  incavatura,  lignorum  per 
quam  sibi  mutuo  copulantur,  scilicet  in  extremitatibus  asserum  runcina- 
torura,"  etc. 

3  MS.  penetrantur.  *  MS.  que. 


416  J.    D.    BRUCE. 

Hoc  ordine  ignis  Grecus  paratur.  Quern  quid  ualere  si 
queris,  nulla  est  tarn  fortis  machina,  nulla  tarn  magna  carina, 
ad  quas,  si  iaculetur,  quin  latus  utrumque  orania  consumeDS 
obstancia  penetret.  Nee  ullo  modo  ualet  extingui,  donee 
materia  quam  consumat  defecerit.  Quodque  magis  obstu- 
pendum  est,  etiam  inter  undas  ardet,  et  si  igni  admisceatur 
communi,  se  semper  uno  in  globo  continent,  eundem  uelut1 
Ugna*  depopulabitur. 

Igitur,  ut  superius  dictum  est,  ubi  hostes  Militem  cum 
tunica  armature  armis  inuincibilem  experti  sunt,  vnus  eorum 
follem  qua  infaustus  ignis  serua[Col-2-]batur  arripuit,  atque, 
calamo  dempta  clepsadra,  eius  unarn  e  tabulis  leua  depri- 
mens,  alteramque  dextra  eleuans,  eas  ab  inuicem  compressit 
conamine  ignemque  eiaculans  centurianam  eo  ratem,  iiii  remi- 
gantibus  ustis,  per  medium  penetrat.  Nee  mora,  tota  flamma 
corripitur,  unde  non  paruus  ei  insidentibus  metus  incutitur; 
interius  quippe  flamma,  exterius  septi  hostibus,  quid  agerent 
ignorabant,  nee  se  defensandi  nee  ulciscendi  dabatur  copia. 
Si  fuge  uellent  consulere,  nee  undis  nee  aduersariis  se  tutum 
erat  committere.  In  naui  autem  remanentibus  mors  nihil- 
ominus  intentabatur.  Miles  autem  cum  tunica  armature, 
considerans  rem,  nisi  quantocius  succurreretur,  sibi  ad  irre- 
mediabile  periculum  uergere  omniaque  uirtutis  uiriumque 
pensari  examine,  resumpto  uigore,  uni  sibi  insistencitim  naui 
armatus  insilit,  et  quosdam  obtruncans,  quosdam  inuoluens 
fluctibus,  socios  triplici  ereptos  infortunio,  scilicet  flammarum 
globis,  undarum  naufragio,  hostiurnque  furori,  illi  transponit. 
Accriorique  ira  succensus,  coadunata  classe,  protinus  se  ultum 
properat,  denisque  submersis,  myoparonas3  xxxta  hostium  ener- 
uata  uirtute  abducit. 

Nauali  tandem  non  sine  maximo  discrimine  confecto  prelio, 
quod  reliquum  erat  itineris  prospere  peragunt,  lerosolimam 
tempore  statuto  incolumes  perueniunt.  Qui,  incredibili  cunc- 
torum  fauore  suscepti,  defatigata  membra  turn  terre  maris- 
que  operoso  itinere  cum  multiplici  periculorum  [FoL ^ coL  1-]  et 

JMS.  velud.  2MS.  lingna.  a  MS.  myopacontas. 


DE   ORTU   WALUUANII.  417 

preliorum  discriraine  quiete  et  ocio  delicatius  et  indulgences 
recrearunt.  Ad  qnos  interim  ualida  bellatorum  coadunantur 
agmina  et  a  finitimis  extraneisque  principibus  militum  desti- 
natur  copia.  Jubent  et  ipsi  per  omnem  regionem  milites 
eligi,  urbes  et  oppida  locis  opportunis,  firmis  muris  altisque 
turribus  circumdari,  uiris  fortissimis,  omni  telorum  apparatu, 
re  frumentaria  pabuloque  sufficient!  in  expedicionem  pugne 
muniri.  Fiebatque  cotidie  per  diuersas  sanctorum  memorias 
com  munis  ab  uniuersis  ad  dominum  sedule  oracio,  oracioni- 
que  ieiuniorum  elemosinarumque  continuabat1  deuocio,  ut  sibi 
famulantibus  optatum  conferret  triumph um  et  aduersarios 
maneret  excidium. 

Prefixus  interea  dies  duelii  illuxerat,  armatorumque  Chris- 
tianorum  uidelicet  et  paganorum  utrimque  innumerabilis 
exercitus  consertis  cuneis,  duo,  ut  pactum  fuerat,  armis  septi 
agoniste  certatim  in  medio  prodeunt.  Hinc  Miles  cum  tunica 
armature,  cuius  animi  audacia,  uirtus  prolata,  probitas  assueta, 
uincendi  consuetude  et  iustior  causa  socios  spe  exhilarabat 
triumpbi.  Alius  autem,  partis  aduerse,  Gormundi  uocabulo, 
procera  membra,  inmanis  statura,  truculenta  facies,  et  bel- 
lorum  frequencia,  singularis  omnium  estirnata  fortitude, 
armorum  horror  et  strepitus  sibi  cessurum  spondere  uide- 
bantur  tropheum.  Pedites  uero  uterque  processerunt,  quia 
ob  eius  inmoderatam  altitudinem  nullus  equus  Gormundum 
ad[c°L2-]mittere  sessorem  ualebat.  Obiectis  igitur  clipeis  col- 
latisque  dextris,  audaciter  adinuicem  congrediuntur,  et  quan- 
tum uis  suppetit  quantasque  ira  uires  administratur  alter 
alterum  stricto  mucrone  impetit.  Mille  ictus  ingeminant, 
mille  modis  mutue  cedi  mutuisque  insistunt  uulneribus. 
Feriunt  et  feriuntur,  pellunt  et  propelluntur,  rotaque  fortune 
uario  casu  inter  eos  uersatur.  Nil  quid  (sic)  uirtutis  et  forti- 
tudinis  sit  prossus  relinquitur,  cunctorumque  obtutus  in  eos 
infiguntur.  Quis  promcior  ad  feriendum,  fortiorue  ad  pacien- 
dum*  ignoratur,  inter  quos  tarn  crebri  ictus  tamque  graues 
sine  temporis  intercapedine  diuidebantur  colaphi,  ut  quis 

1  MS.  continuebat.  2  MS.  paciundum. 


418  J.    D.   BRUCE. 

daret  uel  acciperet  difficile  posset  aduerti.  Vter  uiribus  pocior 
haberetur  nescires,  dum,  quo  magis  pungne  insisterent,  eo 
ualencioribus  anirais  ad  certameu  inhiarent.  Modo  lepidis 
cauillacionibus  suos  ictus  interserunt,  raodo  cinedis1  salibus 
suorum  uicissim  rnentes  exasperant,  raodo  anheli2  se  retrahunt* 
modo  aura  concepta  recreati  acriores  concurrunt.  Recreatis- 
que  uiribus,  feruenciori  irapetu  copulantur,  et  quasi  ab  eis 
nichil  antea  actum  sit  effere,  mentes  efferacius  debachantur. 
Videres  eos  conf[l]ictando  aduersum  se  consistere  quemad- 
modum  duos  apros  ferocissimos  in  singulari  certamine,  qui 
nunc  adunco  dente  se  obliquo  ictu  impetunt,  nunc  latera 
collidunt,  nunc  pedes  pedibus  p[r]oterunt,  quorum  rictus 
interim  modo  fumida  spuma  oblinit,  modo  ignis  erumpens 
ignescit.  [Foi.  ssb, «>i. i.]  Altero  siquidem  uirilius  instante,  hie 
cedens  longius  propellitur;  russus,  isto  preualente,  ille  retro- 
gradi  cogitur.  Hie  quasi  insidiando  uulnus  inferre  molitur. 
Ille,  si  quid  ensis  pateat  acumini,  sedule  rimatur,  sed  alter 
conamen  alterius  baud  impari  calliditate  deludit  et  cassat. 
Armorum  quoque  fragor  longius  perstrepit,  eorurnque  soliditas 
mucronum  aciem  hebetat  et  retundit.  Ex  quorum  etiara  col- 
lisione  flam  ma  crebrius  prosiluit  et  ob  inmoderatum  laborem 
salsus  per  omnes  artus  a  tiertice  usque  ad  plantas  sudor 
decurrit.  Incertumque  erat  cui  uictoria  cederet,  dum  utror- 
umque  uires  quisque  equales  pensaret.  Mira  igitur  uirtute 
miraque  probitate  ea  die  ab  utroque4  puugnatum  est,  cer- 
tamineque  ab  hora  diei  prima  usque  ad  occiduum  protracto, 
nil  actum  est  quo  uel  alter  preferreretur  alteri  aut  palma 
ascriberetur  alicui.  Vesperascente  itaque  uulnerum  penitus 
expertes  segregantur,  iterum  in  crastinum  pungnaturi,  iter- 
umque  luctamen  ex  integro  iniciaturi. 

Aurora  uero  oriente,  bifaria  acie  galeate  phalanges  conueni- 
unt  suosque  luctatores  in  harenam  producunt.  Concurritur, 
conclamatur,  in  alterius  necem  quisque  grassatur.  Iteratur 
pungna  maiori  certamine,  quia,  quo  magis  uirtutem  fuerat 
alter  expertus  alterius,  eo  se  contra  caucius  agebat  et  forcius, 

1  MS.  cynedis.  2  MS.  haneli.  3  MS.  retrahuntur.  4  MS.  utque. 


DE   ORTU   WALUUANII.  419 

pudebatque  se  uel  ad  rnodicnm  sibi  alterutro  cedere  LCo1-2-] 
quos  equi  roboris  omnium  arbitrio  constabat  comprobatos 
fuisse.  Quorum  si  ea  die  conflictum  te  contigisset  aspicere, 
eos  hesterna  iurares  lusisse  maximaque  admiracione  obstu- 
pesceres  quomodo  ad  tarn  crebros  ictus,  ad  tarn  graues 
colaphos,1  uel  mucronum  acumen  sine  obtusione  durare  uel 
armorum  soliditas  inuiolata  manere  aut  certe  ipsi  infessi 
insauciique  tarn  diu  quiuissent  subsistere.  Eo  quippe  uigore 
eoque  ualore  gladii  galeis  infligebantur,  clipeis  contundeban- 
tur,  ut  ex  scintillis  prorumpentibus  aera  choruscarent  sibique 
collisum2  chalybsz  chafybem4  repelleret  dissilentemque  in  eum 
a  quo  uibrabatur  retorqueret.  Crebris  afflatibus  aera  uexant, 
pila  pilis  et  ictus  ictibus  obicientes.  Vnanimiter  insistunt, 
pugnam  acerrimam  ingerunt  ardoremque  pugnandi  prelia 
protracta  conferunt.  Pectora  pectoribus  protendunt  omnique 
nisu  inuadere  et  resistere  nituntur.  Audaciam  unius  animosi- 
tas  alterius  prouocat  et  pertinacia 5  illius  huius  animi  tenorem 
strenuiorem  reddebat.  Alternis  uiribus  alterna  uirtus  fomenta 
prebebat  et  utriusque  uigor  se  metitus  ex  altero  proficiebat. 
Plurimum  autem  diei  pari  fortuna  inter  eos  expensum  est, 
donee  Miles  cum  tunica  armature,  quiddam  callide  machina- 
tus,  dum  se  Gormundum  super  leuum  genu  fingeret  uelle 
percutere  et  Gormundus  eo  loco  eream  peltam  opponeret  ipse, 
dextra  ad  dextram  altius  [Fol-34>coL1-]  conuersa,  ei  ore  in  medio, 
quod  nudum  patebat,  ensis  cuspidem  inopinate  ingessit,  iiiior 
que  priori  bus  extusis  dentibus,  ei  leuam  confregit  maxillam. 
Leue  tamen  uulnus  erat  et  quod  pocius  ad  irritamentum 
furoris  quam  ad  doloris  stimulos  illatum  uideretur,  ut  saucii 
uires  [quam]  incolumis  ampliori  insania  feruescerent.  Gor- 
mundus itaque,  furore  cum  inflixo  concepto  uulnere  et  more 
se  dementis  agens,  nil  exclamat  ulterius :  uiribus  parcendum 
est.  Vt  fera  igitur  bellua  in  Militem  cum  tunica  armature 
insurgit,  brachioque  in  sullimi  erecto,  tanta  fortitudine  scuto 
macheram  inpressit,  ut  ordo  gemmarum  insertus  frustratim 

1  MS.  calaphos.  s  MS.  Calebs.  *  MS.  pertinaciara. 

s  MS.  collisam.  4  MS.  calibem. 


420  J.    D.    BRUCE. 

conqnassatus  difflueret,  umbonem  auelleret  summitatemque 
clipei,  usque  ad  sanguinis  effusionemque  eius  front!  illideret. 
Senior  et  Miles  cum  tunica  armature  eum  excipit  seuiciaque 
dupplicata  seuius  res  agitur  iamque  negocium  ad  discrimen 
uergitur.  Miles  autem  cum  tunica  armature,  nactus  locum, 
in  in  muni  turn  hostis  latus  stricto  mucrone  irruit.  Sed  Gor- 
mundo  ictum  callente  et  euitante,  dum  eius  conatus  cassatur, 
ensis  ab  obiecto  egide  exceptus  scapulo  terms  abrumpitur. 
Nee  eris  soliditas  duriciaue  ictus  inmensitatem  ferre  potuit, 
quin  erea  parma  Gormundi  contrita  per  mediumque  sub 
umbone  confracta  minutas  dissiliret  in  partes.  Vniuersi 
ex  hoc  confestim  exercitus  clamor  inmensus  exoritur,  hinc 
merencium,  illinc  insultancium.  Maius  quippe  discriminis 
[coi.  2.]  jyfiijti  cum  tunica  armature  incumbebat,  cui  uel  quo  se 
defensaret  aut  a  se  hostem  abigeret,  ense  colliso,  nil  prossus 
aderat.  Gormundo  autem  licet  clipeum  obuenisset  comminui, 
mucro  tamen  integer  habebatur,  cuius  rigida1  anoipitique2  acie 
aduersarii  sui  tempora*  sine  intermissione  contundebat.  Miles 
uero  cum  tunica  armature  aduersus  eius  impetus  clipeum 
quoquouersus  callide  protendebat,  sed  nisi  cicius  Phebus 
occidens  finem  bello  posuisset,  maxima  procul  dubio  dispendia 
incurrisset.  Meta  etenim  assignata  fuerat,  quam  mox  ubi 
occidentis  solis  umbra  attigisset,  omni  occasione  dilacioneque 
postposita,  eos  segregari  debere  ratum  manebat.  Vmbra  igi- 
tur  metam  attingente,  inuitis  paganis  et  se  uix  a  sedicione 
continentibus,  dirimuntur,  quodque  duelli  restabat  diem  in 
posterum  protelatur. 

Noctis  opaca  solare  iubar  fugauerat,  et,  conglomeratis  e 
diuerso  agminibus,  campigeni  se  stagnati4  renouatis  armis 
truculenti  ingerunt.  Perosum  quippe  et  pene  exiciale  liti- 
gium  inter  utrumque  exercitum  exorsum  fuerat,  utrum  Militi 
cum  tunica  armature  gladius,  Gormundo  clipeus,  aut  utrique 
uel  neutri  seu  certe  uni  et  non  alter[i]  concederetur.  Super 
qua  re  dissensione  diu  habita  ruagnisque  altercacionibus  uenti- 
lata,  omnium  in  hoc  tandem  conuenit  assensus,  equum  fore, 

1  MS.  regida.         2  MS.  incipitique.         3  MS.  timpora.         4  MS.  stagmati. 


DE   ORTU   WALTJUANII.  421 

ambobus  annui,  quia  nee  iste  sine  ense  se  defendere  nee  ille, 
eliso  clipeo,  ab  hostili  erurapcione  l™.  Mb,  «>i.  i.]  ge  uaiebat  pro- 
tegere.  Ordinatis  igitur,  ut  caraxatum  est,  utrimque  nodis 
peditum  et  turmis  equitum,  ceterorumque  armatorura  conferta 
multitudine,  duelligeri  loricis  crispantes,  galeis  cristati,  uisu 
horrendi,  stadium  petunt,  aleam  belli  ineunt,  sese  ad  pung- 
nam  lacescunt  nianuqtie  preualida  inuadunt  et  assiliunt.  Nee 
mora,  tonitrus  belli  intonuit,  offensio  armorum  perstrepuit, 
sonitus  ictuurn  eiferbuit  et  ignita  collisio  terribiliter  excan- 
duit.  Preduro  ludo  res  agitur,  dumque  sagacius.  pungnant, 
obstinacins  perseuerant,  tinnitu  horribili  aer  resultat  et  reso- 
nat,  aereque  percusso  montiura  concaua  stridorem  multiplicant. 
Horrenda  belli  facies,  nulla  quies  fessis  [mil la]  respiracio 
dabatur  anhelis.1  Omnimodis  insistunt,  omnimodis  operam 
adhibent,  ut  eorum  alter  aut  succumbat  aut  uictoria  pociatur. 
Nee  estuantis  solis  feruor  irapediuit  nee  iugis  labor  uel  decer- 
tacio  obfuit,  quin  semper  procaciores  insisterent  seque  mutuo 
semper  inexsuperabil lores  offenderent.  Atque  sub  armis 
facientes  audacia  animabantur  animositateque  recreabantur. 
Horum  si  spectaculo  assisteres,  Laphitarum  (sic)  pungna 
tibi  in  men  tern  occurreret,  qui  quociens  ictus  ingeminaba[n]t, 
tociens  Ciclopum  incudes  mallei's  contundi  crederes.  Cumque 
plurimum  diei  transisset,  cepit  Gormundus  turn  estu  turn  hos- 
tis  assidua  uexacione  tCo1-2-^  estuari  aggrauataque  est  pungna 
in  eum  uehementer  totumque  bonus  prelii  ei  incubuit.  Animo 
igitur  dilitescebat  ac  segnius  et  inualidus  agebat  sensimque 
se  subtrahens  inpugnanti  cedebat  nee  ea  qua  ante  uirtute  uel 
se  tuebatur  aut2  hostem  aggrediebatur.  Quod  Miles  cum 
tunica  armature  aduertens  instancius  instabat  anxiumque 
spiritum  illius  anxiorem  reddebat.  Nee  destitit,  donee  extra 
circuli  quo  cingebatur  limitem  eum  propelleret.  Hie  tumul- 
tus  et  gemitus,  ululatus  et  pla[n]ctus  incredule  gentis  ad 
sidera  tollitur  cateruatimque  mesti  ad  eum  proclamabant : 
"Gormunde,  regredere !  Gormunde,  regredere !  quid  agis? 
quo  refugis,  miles  egregie  ?  Fugare,  non  fugere,  tibi  hactenus 

1  MS.  hanelis.  2  MS.  aud. 


422  J.    D.   BRUCE. 

moris  exstitit !  Regredere,  proh  dolor !  regredere !  nee  in 
ultimo  dedecus  omnia  ante  bene1  gesta  faciuora  obnubilet. 
Fuge  hie  locus  non  est !  uinci  aut  uincere  hie  necessarium 
est!"  Ad  quorum  uoces  Gormundus,  pudore  consternatus 
paulnmque  respirans  et  animatus,  forcius  gressum  fixit,  infes- 
tantem  aduersarium  uiriliter  abegit.  Vibransque  gladium 
eiusmodi  ictum  intulit  quo  complicatis  membris  eum  suc- 
cumbere  ac  mole  ictus  genuflexo  terra m  compelleret  petere, 
verum  thorax  impenetrabilis  mansit.  Tune  Miles  eurn  tunica 
armature,  mente  nimium  eiferatus,  concitus  se  erexit,  totus 
infremuit,  sese  in  armis  collegit,  dextram  [Foi.  as, ooi.  i.]  excussit 
ac  "Hie  ictus"2  exclamat  "nostrum  ludum  dirimet!"  Sum- 
mitatique  eius  cassidis  ancipitem  romphee 3  aciem  imprimens, 
iam  armis  calefactis  et  ob  hoc  non  resistentibus,  usque  ad 
imum  pectus,  omnia  comminuens  confringens  et  penetrans, 
ictum  conduxit,  non  optabile  stomacho  antidotum.  Ac  ensem 
uulneri  eximens,  duas  sectum  in  partes  caput4  abscidit,  cere- 
broque  effluente,  uictor  pede  eminus  a  se  pepulit.  Quo 
superato  et  crudeliter  trucidato,  pagani  cum  interminabili 
merore  ultimum  super  eo  questum5  et  luctum  continuarunt, 
iamque  armis  correptis  ob  eius  ulciouem  in  Militem  cum 
tunica  armature  irruissent,  ni  sanetis6  inter  se  uetarentur 
legibus. 

Per  se  igitur,  suo  propugnatore  neci  dedito,  iuxta  condictas 
condiciones  federis  Romane  se  dicioni  dedere,  paceque  firmata 
et  obsidibus  datis,  multa  quoque  uectigalium  imposita,  ad 
propria  confusi  remearunt.  Miles  uero  cum  tunica  arma- 
ture splendide  et  uictoriosissime  adeptus  tropheum  multisque 
ab  obtimatibus  lerosolimitanis  honoratus  muneribus  Romam 
mature  rediit  triumphalique  pompa  ab  imperatore  et  senatu 
susceptus  est.  Quem  imperator  in  numero  familiariutn  suo- 
rum  decernens,  quoad  primum  locum  repperisset,  eum  summo 
sullimare  honore  rneritaque  destinauit  dignitate  donare. 

1  MS.  dare.  3  MS.  rumphee.  5  MS.  questrum. 

2  MS.  hictus.  4  MS.  capud.  6  MS.  sanctitis. 


DE   ORTU   WALUUANII.  423 

Hiis  ita  gestis  nulloque  contra  Ro[Col-2]manum  imperium 
arma  presumente  mouere,  Miles  cum  tunica  armature,  pacem 
fastiditus  miliciamque  qua  sua  uirtus  et  probitos  exerceretur 
semper  affectans,  studiose  querere  cepit  quenam  regio  belli 
tumultibus  turbaretur.  Cui  dum  famosum  nomen  Arturi  sui 
auunculi  regis  Britannic  nee  tamen  sibi  noti  eiusque  insignia 
rerum  gesta,  que  iam  toto  orbe  diuulgabantur,  relata  fuissent, 
paruipendens  uniuersa  que  sibi  ab  imperatore  *  *  *  *  sepe 
sepiusque  suppliciter  flagitauit.  Ac  imperator,  quamquam 
eum  ad  condignum  promouere  apicem  iam  proposuerat  tanti- 
que  uiri  dlscessus1  sibi  dampno  fore  non  dubitaret,  ut  tamen 
a  quibus  originem  ducere  (sic)  scire  tialeret,  nee  non  et  per 
eum  se  regnum  Britannic,  quod  a  E-omanis  diu  discederat, 
adepturum  confidens,  annuit  quod  petiuit.  Opulenta  igitur 
preclara  et  preciosa  ei  donaria  largitus  est  thecamque  qua 
ipsius  generis  continebantur  indicia  regi  Arturo  perferenda 
tradidit,  adiunctis  suis  apicibus  quibus  testabatur  omnia  que 
carte  monimenta  dicebant  rata  et  firma  constare.  Vetuitque 
ne  loculum  inspiceret,  antequam  ad  regem  Arturum  uenisset. 
Mandauit  etiam  primatibus  Gallic  per  quos  transiturus2  erat, 
ut  eum  honorifice  susciperent,  seruirent,  necessaria  ei  minis- 
trareut  et  per  fines  suos  usque  .occeanum  saluum  deducerent. 
Sicque,  uale  dicto,  discessit,  rege  relicto. 

Miles  itaque  cum  tunica  armature,  omnibus  eius  [Fol-35b-co1-1-] 
discessum  graniter  ferentibus,  propositum  iter  arripuit,  Alpes 
transsiit,  Galliasque  transgressus  Britanniam  incolumis  attigit. 
Cui  quo  eo  tempore  rex  Arturus  regeret  percuntanti  respon- 
sum  est,  eum  apud  Carlegion  urbem  in  Demecia  perhendinare, 
quam  pre  ceteris  ciuitatibus  frequentare  consueuerat.  Ilia 
quippe  nemoribus  consita,  feris  fecunda,  opibus  opulenta, 
pratorum  uiriditate  amenaque  irrigacione  fluminum  Osce 
scilicet  et  Sabrine  decora  gratissimum  penes  se  habitandi 
locum  prebeat.  Illic  metropolis  habebatur  Demecie,3  illic 
legiones  Romanorum  hiemare  solebant,  illic  rex  Arturus  festa 

1  MS.  discensus.  '2  MS.  transsiturus.  3  MS.  Dernicie. 


424  J.   D.   BRUCE. 

celebrabat  solempnia,  diaderaate  insigniebatur,  uniuerse  pri- 
morum  Britannie  ad  eum  conuentus  coadunabantur.  Quo 
Arturum  manere  Miles  cum  tunica  armature  cognito  illo 
uiam  direxit,  illo,  nee  die  nee  nocte  labori  indulgens,  properare 
animo  intendit.  Dum  atitem  quadam  nocte  in  cuius  sequent! 
die  ad  urbem  Legionum  peruenturus  erat  pergeret,  inopina 
et  inmanis  procella  uisque  uentorum  cum  pluuia  apud  Usce 
oppidum,  quod  ab  urbe  vi  miliariis  distabat,  ei  ingruit,  cuius 
nimietate  omnes  ipsius  socii  aut  deuiarent  aut  eum  prosequi 
nequirent. 

Eadem  autem  nocte  rex  Arturus  cum  sua  coniuge  regina 
Gwendoloena  thoro  recubans,  quia  ob  noctis  diuturnitatem 
sibi  sompnus  erat  fastidio,  de  multis  adinuicem  [Col-2]  sermo- 
cinabantur.  Erat  quidem  Gwendoloena  regina  cunctarum 
feminarum  pulcher[r]ima  sed  ueneficiis  imbuta,  ut  multociens 
ex  suis  sortilegiis  communicaretur  futura.  Inter  ceteras  igitur 
cum  rege  confabulaciones  "  Domine,"  ait  "tu  te  de  tua  probi- 
tate  nimium  gloriaris  et  extollis  nerninemque  tibi  uiribus 
parem  existimas?"  Arturus  "  Ita  est"  ait;  "nonne  et  tui 
animus  idem  de  me  sentit  ? "  Regina :  "  Nempe  hac  ipsa 
noctis  hora  quidam  miles  e  Roma  ueniens  per  Usce  muni- 
cipium  hue  cursum  tendit,  quern  uirtute  et  fortitudine  tibi 
eminere  ne  dubites.  Sonipedi  residet  cui  uigore,  ualore 
decoreue  alter  equiparari  non  poterit.  Anna  ei  sunt  impene- 
trabilia  nee  est  qui  ad  ferientis  dextram  subsistat.  Et,  ne 
me  f  riuola  arbitreris  asserere,  sigtuim  rei  habeto,  quod  anulum 
aureum  et  iii  myriadas  (sic)  cum  equis  duobus  eum  m-ihi 
sum  mo  mane  missurum  tibi  prenuncio."  Arturus  autem,  earn 
se  nunquam  in  huiusmodi  presagiis  fefellisse  recogitans,  rem 
probare,  ea  tamen  ignorante,  statuit.  Consuetudinis  enim 
habebat,  quod,  statim  ubi  aliquem  strenuum  uirum  aduenire 
audisset,  se  illi  obuium  daret,  ut  mutuus  congressus  ualidi- 
orem  ostenderet. 

Paulo  ergo  post  regina  sopita,  surrexit,  cornipedem  armatus 
ascendit,  abiit,  Kaium  tautummodo  suum  dapiferum  uie  habens 
comitem.  Occurrit  Militi  cum  tunica  armature  ad  quendam 


DE   ORTTJ  WALUUANII.  425 

riuulum  plu[Fol>36'col>1>]uialibus  undis  inundatum  subsistenti. 
luxta  quern  uadi  querens  transitum  moram  parum  uerberat; 
tetra  quippe  noctis  deceptus  caligine  profundi  fluminis  alneum 
autumarat.  Quern  Arturus  ex  armore  splendore  animaduer- 
tens ;  "  Cuias  es,"  exclamat  "  qui  hanc  noctis  silencio  ober[r]as 
patriam  ?  Exulne  es,  predo  an  insidiator  ?  "  Cui  Miles  cum 
tunica  armature :  "  Erro  quidem  ut  uiarum  inscius  sed  nee 
exulis  me  fuga  agitat  nee  predonis  rapina  instigat  nee  fraus 
insidiantis  occultat."  Arturus  :  "  Loquacitate  uiceris ;  nosco 
uersuciam  tuam ;  e  tribus  que  predixi  te  unum  calleo.  Ni 
igitur  quantocius,1  depositis  armis,  te  mihi  ultro  tradideris, 
me  tue  absque  mora  nequicie  uindicem  sencies."  Et  ille : 
"  Vecordis  et  timidi  animi  est,  qui  ante  bellum  fugam  inierit 
aut  qui  priusquam  necessitas  exegerit2  se  aduersario  sub- 
miserit.  Si  autem  meorum  armorum  adeo  teneris  cupidus, 
eorum  obtestor  uirtutem,  te  ipsa  duris  comparaturum  cola- 
phis/'  Hoc  autem  modo  uerbis  inter  eos  ad  minas  et  con- 
tumelias  prerumpentibus,  Arturus  furore  exasperatus,  quasi 
riuum  iarn  transiturus  et  in  eum  irruiturus,  equum  calcaribus 
ad  cursum  coegit.  Cui  Miles  cum  tunica  armature  obuius 
factus  protensa  ac  demissa  lancea  in  ipso  transitu3  eum  im- 
pulit  et  mediis  undis,  uersis  uestigiis,  deiecit  sonipedemque 
ad  se  cursu  delatum  per  lora  corripuit.  Successit  Kaius 
dapifer  uin[Col-2-]dicaturus  dominum  suum,  et,  admisso  equo, 
cum  Milite  cum  tunica  armature  congreditur,  sed  eodem 
pacto  et  ipse  super  Arturum  in  una  congerie  primo  ictu 
prosternitur.  Equnm  autem  eius  Miles  cum  tunica  armature, 
inuexa  haste  cuspide,  ad  se  detraxit ;  ipsos  uero  incolumes 
noctis  seruauit  obscuritas.  Quique  equites  illuc  uenerant 
domum  pedites  cum  non  paruo  dedecore  redierunt.  Arturus 
uero  cubile  repetiit.  Quern  regina  Gwendoloena  frigore  rigi- 
dum  et  totum  cum  imbre  cum  riui  undis  madefactum  quo 
tarn  diu  moratus  complutusque  fuisset  interrogat.  Arturus : 
"Afforis  in  curia  tumultum  ac  si  certancium  percepi,  ad  quos 

1  Written  twice  in  MS.  *  MS.  erigerit.  3  MS.  transsitu. 

9 


426  J.    D.    BRUCE. 

egressus  in  eos  pacando  rnoram  feci  nimboque  ingruente 
me  contigit  complui."  Regina :  "Sit  ut  dicis ;  verum  quo 
abieris  quidne  actum  sit  in  crastinum  nuncius  propalabit." 

Miles  autem  cum  tunica  armature,  flu[u]iolum  minime 
transgressus  nee  cum  quibus  habuisset  conflictum  conscius, 
ad  quendam  uicinum  pagum  diuertit  ibique  hospitatus  est. 
Summo  uero  diluculo  ad  Urbem  Legionura  tetendit.  A  qua 
duobus  miliariis  quendam  nactus  puerum  cui  familiaretur 
interrogat.  Cui  puer  "  Regine  "  ait  "  exsto  nuncius,  cuius 
archana  proferre  mandata  mihi  incumbit  officiurn."  Et  ille 
"Faciesne"  ait  "quod  tibi  iniunxero?"  Puer:  "Presto  sum 
quod  placuerit."  Miles  cum  tunica  armature  "Hos"  ait  "duos 
sume  [Fol> S6b>  co1' L]  sonipedes  et  eos  mei  ex  parte  deduc  regine 
utque  mee  probitatis  insigne  gratanter  accipiat  in  pignore 
rogita  amicicie."  Anulum  etiam  aureuin  cum  iii  aureis  eidem 
deferendum  proferens  suum  nouien  edidit  seque  e  uestigio  eum 
prosecuturum  iutimauit.  Nuncius  autem  que  sibi  iniuncta 
sunt  exequitur.  Aureos  accepit  cornipedesque  secum  abduxit. 
Gwendoloena  autem  regina,  ut  futuri  prescia,  in  arcis  pre- 
rupto  stabat  culmine,  uiam  prospectans  que  ad  Usce  ducebat 
oppidum.  Que  duos  equos  cum  suis  adducentem  phaleris1 
suum  eminus  contemplata  redire  nuncium  rem  intellexit,  ilico 
descendit  ac  ei  iam  regiam  ingredienti  obuiauit.  Puer  uero 
negocium  lepide  peragit,  mandata  pandit,  transmissa  tradit, 
Militemque  cum  tunica  armature  iam  affore  predicit.  Ad 
cuius  nomen  regina  subridens  dona  suscipit,  gracias  agit  et 
equos  thalamo  inductos  ante  lecticam  regis  Arturi  adhuc 
quiescentis,  utpote  qui  noctem  totam  insompnem  laborando 
duxerat,  statuit,  sompnoque  excito,  "  Domine,"  ait,  "  ne  me 
comment!  nota  arguas,  ecce  anulus  et  aurei  quos  hodie  mihi 
transmittendos  nocte  promisi.  Insuper  et  hos  duos  dextrarios 
mihi  destinauit,  quos,  eorum  sessoribus  illo  fluuiolo  obrutis,  hac 
nocte  predictus  miles  se  conquisisse  mandauit."  Rex  autem 
[Coi.  2.]  ^rturus  suos  equos  recognoscens  pudore  consternitur, 
id  uidens  propalatum  quod  haberi  autumabat  secretam. 
1  MS.  falleris. 


DE   ORTU   WALUUANII.  427 

Egressus  est  demum  Arturus  ad  nobilium  colloquium,  quos 
ad  conuentum  pro  causis  instantibus  asdtos1  ea  die  adesse 
iusserat.  Cum  quibus  dum  ante  aulam  sub  umbra  fraxini 
resedisset,  ecce  Miles  cum  tunica  armature  equitans  ualuas 
ingreditur,  cominusque  in  ipsius  regis  Arturi  procedens 
aspectum  eum  cum  considenti  regina  miliciaque  salutat. 
Arturus  uero  non  ignarus  quis  esset  ei  trucem  uultum  pro- 
tendebat  indignanciusque  respondebat.  Interrogat  tamen 
unde  ortus,  quo  tenderet,  quidne  illis  regionibus  quereret. 
Ille  autem  se  Roman  urn  esse  militem,  et,  quia  eum  ut  Marte 
pressum  audierat  indigere  milicia,  sibi  laturum  aduenisse 
presidia  simulque  imperialia  detulisse  mandata.  Thecam 
igitur  signatam  protulit  apicesque  regi  porrexit.  Arturus 
autem,  litteris  acceptis,  seorsum  a  turba  secessit  recitarique 
iussit.  Quorum  testimoniis  cum  carte  monimentis  perceptis 
indiciorum,  quoque  pallio  scilicet  et  anulo  signis  prolatis, 
ualde  obstupefactus  est,  quod2  omni  desiderio  uerum  affectabat 
existere.  Hoc  ex  ingenti  leticia — eum  uidelicet  suum  esse 
nepotem — nequiuit  credere.  Huiusque  rei  mansit  incredulus, 
donee,  eius  utroque  connotato  parente,  Loth  rege  Norguuegie 
Annaque  regina,  qui  forte  cum  aliis  ducibus  iussi  aduenerant, 
rei  fidem  diligenter  [Fo1- 37>  co1- L]  ab  eis  discuteret  et  indagaret.3 
Quibus  id  uerum  fatentibus,  eumque  suum  filium,  [signis] 
cognitis,  adhibito  sacramento  asserentibus,  Arturus  incredi- 
bili  exhilaratur  gaudio,  uirum  tarn  multimodis  imperatoris 
fultum  preconiis  tantarumque  probitatum  prelatum  titulis 
sibi  ex  insperato  tanta  propinquitate  coniunctum  [esse].  Ex 
industria  tamen  nil  ei  inde  propalandum  censuit  usquequo 
aliquid  preclari  penes  se  patrasset  facinoris. 

Ad  conuentum  ergo  reuersus  eumque  ante  omnes  conuocans 
"Tuo"  ait,  "amice,  in  presenti  presidio  non  egeo,  in  quo  pro- 
bitas  an  inercia  magis  uigeat  prossus  ignoro.  Magna  mihi 
sat  militum  exstat  copia  incomparabilis  probitatis,  robore  et 
uirtute  predita,  inertemque  et  timidum  probis  et  bellicosis 
ingerere  eorum  est  animos  a  solita  audacia  et  probitate  uelle 

1  MS.  acscitos.  8MS.  quodque.  'MS.  indigaret. 


428  J.  r>.  BRUCE. 

eneruare.  Tui  similium  etiam  absque  stipendiis  raihi  per- 
maximus  sponte  railitat  numerus,  inter  quos  mea  excellencia, 
nisi  prius  merueris,  te  [uon  ascribendum]  nee  etiam  censendum 
existimat."  Ad  hec  Miles  cum  tunica  armature  eius  dictis 
exasperatus  respondit :  "  Grauem  repulsam  et  inopinatam 
iniuriam  tibi  famulari  cupientem  me  a  te  contigit  incurrere, 
qui  quo[n]dam  quandoque  nee  multis  exoratus  precibus  nee 
magnis  conductus  opibus  te  dicioribus  dignabar  obsequendo 
assistere.  Nee  me  non  reperturum  dubito  cui  seruiam,  durn 
etiam,  si  tantum  animum  intendero,  imparem  leuiter  tc°L2-3 
inueniam.  Verum,  quia  me  hue  adduxit  affectus  experiunde 
milicie  et  si  hinc  discessero  timiditati  ascribetur  et  inercie, 
tali  condicione  me  tue  milicie  dignum  censeas  numero,  si 
illud  in  quo  tuus  totus  defecerit  exercitus  solus  peregero." 
Arturus  "  Meum "  ait  "  contestor  imperium,  si  compleueris 
quod  pacisceris,1  te  non  solum  eis  ascribam  uerum  omnium 
amori  proponarn."  Regi  itaque  ac  ipsius  uniuersis  optimati- 
bus  sentencia  placuit  eumque  prelibata  condicione  penes  se 
retinuit. 

Non  dies  bis  seni  transierant  et  causa  huiusmodi  in  expe- 
dicionem  Arturum  proficisci  compulit.  In  aquilonari  parte 
Britannie  erat  quoddam  castellum,  Puellarum  nuncupation* 
cui  tarn  decore  quam  generositate  preclara  et  famosa  iure 
dominii  presidebat  puella  amicicie  nexibus  Arturo  admodum 
copulata.  Huius  prestanti  forma  et  pulcritudinis  maguitu- 
dine  quidam  rex  paganus  captus  et  ab  ea  despectus  ipsam 
in  predicto  oppido  obsidebat,  iamque  compositis  machinis, 
comportatis  et  erectis  aggeribus,  quasi  earn  expugnaturus  et 
obtenturus  imminebat.  Cuius  dum  iuges  incursus  et  cotidi- 
anos  assultns  ilia  perferre  nequiuisset,  misso  nuncio,  sibi 
suppecias  Arturum  aduocat,  sese  turri  inclusam,  exteriori 
uallo  occupato,  baud  mora  hostibus  dedendam  asserens,  nisi 
cicius  presidia  conferat.  Arturus  autem  eius  discrimini 3 

1  MS.  patisserie.  2  MS.  nunccupatum. 

3  It  seems  necessary  to  assume  the  omission  of  one  or  more  words  after  dis- 
crimini. 


DE   ORTU  WALUUANII.  429 

oppido  rFoi.37b,coi.i.]  met,uens  uirtutem  milicie  confestim  con- 
gregat  instruit  et  ordinal,  perfeccioneque  parata,  licet  maxima 
constrictus  forrnidine,  quo  ascitus  fuerat  iter  arripuit.  Mul- 
tociens  enim  cum  eodem  rege  commiserat  et  congressus  fuerat, 
sed  semper  repulsum  et  deuictum  eum  constabat.  Illi  uero 
obsidionem  petenti  alius  prepeti  cursu  occurrit  nuncius,  qui 
cum  cesarie  [super]  genas  dilaniatas  municipium  quidem 
expugnatum,  illam  autem  captam  intimat  et  abductam  man- 
dantemque  sibi,  ut  quo  amore  earn  dilexisset  in  prosperis  tune 
ostenderet  in  aduersis.  Manubiis  igitur  honustos  Arturus 
aduersarios  insequitur,  extrema  eorum  agmina,  que  inprouisa 
autumabat,  furibundus  aggreditur,  sed  rnalo  ab  illis  omiue 
acceptus  est;  de  eius  quippe  aduentu  predocti  armati  et 
ordinate  incesserant,  ualidiores  ad  munimen  tocius  exercitus 
posteriori  in  turma  locatierant,  qui  subito  impetu  non  facile 
perturbari  poterant. 

Ad  tumultum  igitur  extremi  agminis  priores  reuertuntur 
phalanges  Arturumque  ex  omni  circumdantes  latere  compri- 
munt  impellunt  et  affiigunt.  Hie  pugna  acerrima  commissa 
stragesque  cruenta  utrimque  illata  est  ac  Arturus  medio 
hostium  conspectus  gremio  ualde  conterebatur  anxiebatur 
et  fatiscebatur,  nique  uiam  gladiis  aperiens  fugam  cicius 
maturasset,  cum  omni  [Col-2-l  Cesus  pessumdaretur  exercitu. 
Fuge  itaque  salutem  commisit,  sanius  ducens  saluus  fugiendo 
euadere  quam  ultro  se  ingerendo  periculum  incurrere. 

Belli  autem  exordio  Miles  cum  tunica  armature  remoto 
et  prerupto  loco  secesserat,  quis  prelii  exitus  commilitones 
maneret  contemplaturus.  Quos  ubi  fuga  lapsos  comperit, 
Arturo  cum  prioribus  fugienti  obuiauit,  atque  ei  subridendo 
insultans  "Numquid"  ait  "O  rex,  ceruos  an  lepores  agitis,  qui 
sic  passim  dispersi  per  auia  tenditis?"  Cui  Arturus  indig- 
natus  respondit :  "  Hie  tuam  satis  probitatem  expertam  habeo, 
qui,  aliis  pugnam  adeuntibus,  te  nemoris  abdidisti  latebris." 
Nee  plura  locutus  aduersariis  instantibus  pertranssiit.  Miles 
autem  cum  tunica  armature,  in  eius  singulos  militum  sibi 
obuiancium  lepide  et  ridiculose  cauillatus,  iusequentibus  hosti- 


430  J.    D.    BRUCE. 

bus  occurreus  eorum  se  cateruis  seuiens  ingessit.  Quorum 
confertos  et  constipates  cuneos  ad  instar  hyberne  procelle  per 
medium  penetrans  neminem  quidem  lesit,  nisi  qui  sibi  fortuna 
resistentem  obtulit.  Yt  autem  regalem  aciem  intuitus  est, 
calcaribus  illico  subductis  cornipedem  admisit,  et,  lancea 
uibrata,  splendidum  ferrum  sub  cauo  pectore  inopinus  regi 
intorsit.  Quo  moribundo  corruente,  puellam  per  lora  cor- 
ripit  ac  uia  qua  uenerat  cicius  regredi  cepit. 

Agmina  autem  que  regem  circumsteterant,  suum  dominum 
sui  medio  [Fol>  38' coL  L]  peremptum,  confusa  discedentem  cum 
clamore  persecuuntur  strictisque  gladiis  impetunt  et  inuadunt. 
Ipse  in  omnes  et  omnes  in  eum  irruuut.  Eminus  alii  in  euni 
tela  iaculantur,  ceteri  ancipiti  mucronum  acie  eum  sine  inter- 
missione  contundunt,  ut,  sicut  pluuie  inundacio,  sic  ictuuni 
in  eum  conflueret  multitudo.  Ille  autem  hos  super  illos 
obtruncatos1  deserens  suum  semper  iter  agebat.  Sed  mul- 
tum  impediebatur,  quia  non  tantummodo  se  sed  etiam  illam 
oportebat  defendere.  Non  longe  autem  perampla  et  pro- 
funda  distabat  fouea,  duarum  prouinciarum  terminos  diri- 
mens.  Ideoque  limes  et  diuisio  illarum  dicebatur  finium, 
cuius  angustus  aditus  et  transitus  non  nisi  unius  admittebat 
ingressum.  Ad  hanc  igitur  Miles  cum  tunica  armature 
accelerans  et  deueniens  puellam  intra  fosse  municionem  tuto 
inmisit,  precipiens  se  donee  rediret  in  remota  ibidem  operiri. 
Iterum  aduersariorum  se  usque  insequencium  ingerens  cuneis 
repellebat  fugabat  dispergebat,  ac  more  leonis  catulis  amissis 
infremens  in  eos  crudeli  strage  seuiebat.  Nullus  eins  impe- 
tum  pertulit  nee  aliquis  quern2  grauis  moles  eius  dextre 
attigisset  indempnis  abiuit.  Quocumque  se  conuertebat,  ac 
si  a  facie  tempestatis,  ab  eo  dilabebantur,  quos  iugiter  ad 
exiciurn  agens  sine  pietate  trucidabat.  Nee  destitit,  donee 
omnes  in  fugam  conuersos,  omnes  tcoi.2.]  pernjcjei  traderet, 
dum  pars  eorum  se  ex  preruptis  rupibus  precipites  darent, 
pars  obstantibus  fluctibus  se  sponte  inuoluerent  et  ipse  super- 
stites  cede  dilaniaret. 

1  MS.  obtrunctatos.  8  MS.  quam. 


DE   ORTU   WALUUANII.  431 

Miles  igitur  cum  tunica  armature,  absque  sui  detrimento 
habita  uictoria,  caput  regis  diademate  insignitum  abscidit, 
ipsius  uexillo  infixit  ac  in  sullime  erigens  ad  regem  Arturum 
cum  sua  puella  prope  remeauit.  Ouansque  aulam  ingres- 
sus  qua  rex  Arturus  super  belli  infortunio  tristis  et  merens 
residebat  "Quonam  sunt"  exclamat  "O  rex,  tui  famosi  athlete, 
deqnibus  adeo  iactabas  neminem  eorum  parem  uirtuti?  Ecce 
caput1  uiri  quern  cum  omni  suorum  copia  militum  solus  nici 
et  prostraui,  a  quo  tot  tuorum  pugillum  milia  tociens  proh  ! 
pudet  fugari  et  eneruari.  Tuumne  adhuc  me  militem  dig- 
naris?"  Recognoscens  autem  Arturus  regis  caput2  sibi  pre 
omnibus  odiosi  sibique  dilectam  ab  inimicorum  manibus  erep- 
tam,  letatus  eius  in  amplexus  irruit,  atque  "Reuera  dignandus 
et  optandus  es  miles "  respondit  "  precipuisque  donandus 
honoribus.  Verum  quia  adhuc  pene  incertum  habemus  quis 
nobis  adueneris,  enucleacius,  rogo,  insinua  que  tibi  natalia 
tellus,  a  quibus  originem  trahas,  et  quo  censearis  nomine." 
Et  ille:  "Rei  quidem  habet  ueritas,  me  Gallicanis  in  partibus 
Romano  senatore  progenitum,  Rome  [Fol-  38b>  col>  1>]  educatum, 
Miles  cum  tunica  armature  sort! turn  uocabulum."  Arturus : 
"  Plane  falleris,  fideque  caret  tua  existimacio  et  te  hac 
opinione  prossus  deceptum  noueris."  Miles  :  "  Quid  ergo  ?  " 
Arturus :  "  Ostendam,"  mgu/Uf  "  tibi  tue  propaginis  seriem, 
cuius  rei  cognicio  tui  laboris  erit  remuneracio." 

Vtroque  igitur  ipsius  parente  presente,  Loth  scilicet  rege 
et  Anna  regina  Norwegie,  sibi  ab  imperatore  directas  litteras 
iubet  afferri  allatasque  in  aure  multitudinis  recitari.  Qui- 
bus intelligentibus  vniuersis  perlectis,  cum  ingenti  stupore 
incredibilis  omnium  mentibus  innascitur  leticia  talique  sobole 
beatos  clamitabant  parentes.  Tune  rex  Arturus  eum  hylari 
uultu  intuens  "  Meum  te"  ait,  "  karissime,  nepotem,  huius 
mee  sororis  filium,  cognoscito,  quern  talem  edidisse  non  infamie 
sed  maximo  ascribendum  est  fortune  beneficio."  Subiunxit- 
que  :  "  In  puerili  quidem  etate  Puer  sine  Nomine,  a  tirocinio 
autem  usque  ad  presens  Miles  es  uocatus  cum  tunica  arma- 

XMS.  capud.  2MS.  capud.  3MS.  inqui<l. 


432  J.    D.   BRUCE. 

ture,  iam  a  modo  Waluuanius  proprio  censeberis  notamine." 
Hec  Arturo  dicente,  terque  quaterque  ab  omni  cetii  "  Wal- 
uuanius, nepos  Arturi !  "  ingeminatum  et  inculcatum  est.  A 
patre  igitur  filio,  ab  auo  nepote  agnito,  magnitude  gaudii 
duplicatur,1  cum  pro  amissi  recuperatore  pignoris,  turn  pro 
ipsius  incomparabili  uirtute  et  fortitudine.  Cetera  que  uirtu- 
tum  Waluuannii  secuntur  [Col-2-]  insignia  qui  scire  desiderat 
a  sciente  prece  uel  precio  exigat,  sciens  quod  sicut  discrimi- 
nosius  est  bellum  inire  quam  bellura  referre  sic  operosius 2  sit 
composito  eloquencie  stilo  historiara  exarare  quam  uulgari 
propalare  sermone. 

VI. 

PARAPHRASE. 

Uther  Pendragon,  King  of  Britain,  and  father  of  Arthur, 
had  reduced  the  kings  of  all  neighboring  countries  to  a  state 
of  subjection  and  retained  their  sons  as  hostages  at  his  court, 
where  the  young  men,  however,  were  given  instruction  in  the 
discipline  of  arms  and  chivalry.  Among  the  princes  of  sub- 
ject nations,  who  were  thus  brought  up  at  Uther's  court,  there 
was  a  nephew  of  Sichelinus,  King  of  Norway,  namely  Loth, 
a  young  man  of  handsome  person,  equally  remarkable  for 
strength  of  mind  and  body.  As  he  had  succeeded  beyond  all 
his  companions  in  winning  the  attachment  of  King  Uther 
and  his  son,  Arthur,  he  was  received  more  familiarly  than 
the  rest  into  the  intimacy  of  the  royal  household,  including 
Anna,  the  beautiful  daughter  of  the  king.  In  the  course  of 
time  Loth  and  the  young  princess  fell  in  love  with  each  other, 
but  at  first,  from  motives  both  of  fear  and  modesty,  they 
made  no  confession  of  the  passion  which  they  had  mutually 
conceived.  In  the  end,  however,  there  followed  a  declaration 
of  love  and  an  intrigue  which  resulted  in  the  pregnancy  of 
the  young  princess.  As  the  time  of  her  lying-in  drew  near, 
she  dissembled  the  true  nature  of  her  indisposition  and  with- 

1  MS.  dupplicatur. 


DE   ORTU   WALTJUANII.  433 

drew  to  a  secret  chamber  of  the  palace,  admitting  only  a  single 
servant  to  her  confidence,  and  there  in  due  time  gave  birth  to 
a  handsome  boy.  In  the  meanwhile  she  had  taken  the  pre- 
caution, however,  of  arranging  with  certain  rich  merchants 
from  abroad,  that  as  soon  as  the  child  was  born  they  should 
take  it  with  them  into  their  native  conntry  and  there  bring  it 
up  with  all  due  care.  Accordingly  without  the  knowledge  of 
any  one  the  merchants  received  the  child  from  its  mother 
immediately  after  its  birth,  and  along  with  it  a  great  quantity 
of  gold  and  ^-m-^1  silver  and  costly  clothing.  She  gave  them 
also  a  cloak,  which  was  ornamented  with  precious  stones,  and 
a  ring  set  with  an  emerald,  which  her  father,  the  king,  had 
entrusted  to  the  keeping  of  the  princess,  being  accustomed  to 
wear  it  himself  only  on  days  of  ceremony.  To  complete  the 
means  of  future  identification,  she  added  to  these  articles  a 
document  sealed  with  the  king's  seal,  which  certified  that  the 
child  was  the  offspring  of  the  nephew  of  the  king  of  Norway 
and  of  Arthur's  sister,  that  he  had  been  named  Gawain  by  his 
mother,  and  that  he  had  been  sent  into  foreign  parts  on 
account  of  their  fear  of  King  Uther's  wrath. 

The  merchants  in  due  time  embarked  in  their  ship,  taking 
with  them  their  young  charge,  and,  setting  sail,  on  the  eighth 
day  they  arrived  off  the  shores  of  Gaul.  They  landed  two 
miles  from  the  city  of  Narbonne.  Having  accomplished  this 
and  trusting  in  the  secrecy  of  the  spot  where  they  had  come 
to  land,  the  merchants  left  their  ship  in  its  place  of  harborage 
with  only  a  boy  to  look  after  their  possessions  and  the  child 
in  its  cradle,  and  hurried  away  to  amuse  themselves  in  the 
city.  But,  as  it  happened,  soon  after  their  departure  a  certain 
fisherman  from  the  country  round-about,  named  Viamundus, 
a  poor  man  but  hitherto  of  honorable  character,  was  walking 
along  the  beach,  according  to  his  daily  wont,  in  search  of  fish 
cast  up  by  the  sea,  by  selling  which  he  gained  his  livelihood. 
On  observing  the  ship,  which  was  drawn  up  there,  the  fisher- 

1  These  bracketed  numbers  refer  to  the  corresponding  pages  of  the  Latin 
text. 


434  J.    D.   BRUCE. 

man  at  once  abandoned  his  daily  employment  and  hastened  to 
it.  He  soon  discovered  that  there  was  no  one  in  charge  of 
the  beautiful  child  and  the  ship,  with  all  its  treasures,  save  the 
ship-boy,  who  had  by  this  time  fallen  asleep.  Again,  as  our 
author  remarks,  the  proverb  was  verified  that  [p-  m]  it  is  the 
convenience  of  time  and  place  which  make  the  thief.  Reflect- 
ing on  his  own  poverty  and  the  opportunity  which  he  now 
saw  of  bringing  it  to  an  end,  Viamundus  succumbed  to  tempta- 
tion and  carried  off  whatever  was  most  valuable  among  the 
articles  of  gold  or  silver,  and  other  things  which  he  found  in 
the  ship.  Furthermore,  he  handed  over  the  child  and  the 
case  lying  by  his  side  (which  contained  the  cloak,  the  ring, 
and  the  above-mentioned  document)  to  his  wife,  and  together, 
laden  with  riches,  they  hastened  home  without  being  observed 
by  any  one.  The  merchants  soon  afterwards  returned  to  their 
ship,  only  to  discover  the  misfortune  which  had  befallen  them. 
They  were  seized  with  consternation  and  grief,  especially  on 
account  of  the  disappearance  of  the  child  who  had  been 
committed  to  their  charge,  but  they  finally  despatched  men 
throughout  the  surrounding  region  to  trace  out,  if  possible, 
the  authors  of  this  mischief.  But  it  is  hard,  says  the  writer, 
to  discover  what  no  one  has  been  an  eye-witness  of,  so  the 
messengers  soon  returned  to  the  ship  downcast  after  a  vain 
search. 

In  the  meanwhile  Viamundus  carried  home  his  stolen 
wealth  and  hid  it.  Being  childless  himself,  he  brought  up 
the  boy  with  particular  care  as  an  adopted  son.  It  was 
long,  however,  before  he  dared  to  make  any  open  use  of  the 
property  he  had  wrongfully  acquired.  At  the  end,  however, 
of  seven  years,  he  decided  to  set  out  for  Rome,  to  make  that 
city  his  future  home,  since  he  thought  that  at  so  great  a 
distance  from  the  scene  of  his  crime  he  might  employ  his 
ill-gotten  wealth  in  any  way  he  desired  without  fear  of  detec- 
tion. Accordingly,  in  company  with  his  wife  and  adopted 
son  and  all  the  other  members  of  his  household,  he  set  out 
on  his  journey  and  soon  reached  the  city  of  Rome.  On  his 


DE   ORTU  WALUUANII.  435 

arrival  he  took  great  pains  to  familiarize  himself  with  the 
conditions  of  life  in  his  new  home,  its  citizens'  mode  of  liv- 
ing, the  names  of  its  senators  and  chief  men.  At  this  time 
Rome  was  just  recovering  from  the  ravages  of  the  barbarians. 
[P.  393.]  ^  new  emperor  nacj  succeeded  to  the  throne,  who  was 
endeavoring  to  restore  the  city  to  its  former  prosperity  after 
that  period  of  desolation,  bringing  together  its  scattered  citi- 
zens, redeeming  captives  and  building  up  what  had  been 
destroyed.  Viamundus  observed  these  things,  and,  being  of 
an  astute  mind,  he  determined  to  avail  himself  of  his  oppor- 
tunity without  delay.  He  accordingly  fitted  himself  out  with 
great  splendor,  obtaining  from  the  neighboring  towns  as  large 
a  train  of  slaves  as  possible,  and  thus  accompanied  he  set  out 
for  the  palace,  passing  through  the  middle  of  the  city  and 
attracting  the  attention  of  all  spectators  by  the  richness  of 
his  display  and  the  multitude  of  his  attendants.  When  he 
finally  came  to  the  Emperor,  he  was  honorably  received.  In 
the  conversation  which  ensued,  Viamundus  represented  him- 
self as  sprung  from  a  noble  Roman  family,  and  as  ruling  over 
a  certain  part  of  Gaul.  On  the  other  hand,  he  averred,  that 
hearing  of  the  great  disasters  which  had  befallen  the  city  of 
Rome,  he  had  hastened  thither  and  now  begged  the  emperor 
to  assign  him  a  place  of  residence  in  the  capital.  The 
emperor,  pleased  with  his  venerable  appearance,  and  influ- 
enced by  his  display  of  wealth,  acceded  to  his  request,  and 
presented  him  with  a  superb  residence,  built  of  marble,  which 
had  formerly  been  in  the  possession  of  Scipio  Africanus,  and 
was  situated  at  ihe  very  gates  of  the  imperial  palace.  In 
addition,  he  made  him  a  present  of  vineyards  and  other  lands 
outside  of  the  city,  with  which  to  maintain  himself  in  state. 
Viamundus,  having  thus  obtained  beyond  his  expectation 
the  benefits  of  imperial  favor,  conducted  himself  so  com- 
mendably  that  he  soon  won  the  admiration  and  attachment  of 
all  classes,  whilst  the  story  of  his  munificence  spread  far  and 
wide  throughout  the  city.  Senators  and  nobles  of  Rome 
flocked  daily  to  his  house,  and  even  youths  and  knights  from 


436  J.    D.    BRUCE. 

the  imperial  palace  were  drawn  thither,  i>394-]  especially  on 
account  of  his  adopted  son,  the  hero  of  the  story,  who  was 
now  growing  up  and  emulating  his  supposed  father  in  all  the 
forms  of  excellence.  For  he  was  beautiful  in  appearance  and 
of  marvellous  strength,  and  his  virtues  united  with  these 
attributes  attracted  to  him  the  love  of  all  men.  But  Via- 
mundns  fell  gravely  ill,  whilst  his  adopted  son  was  as  yet 
only  twelve  years  old,  and,  feeling  his  condition  growing 
serious,  he  sent  for  the  Emperor  and  Pope  Sulpicius,  and  in 
anticipation  of  his  death  he  begged  that  they  would  grant 
him  a  last  interview.  They  yielded  to  the  prayers  of  a  person 
whom  they  so  greatly  loved,  and  both  came  to  the  dying 
man,  accompanied  by  a  train  of  nobles.  On  their  arrival 
Viamundus  returned  thanks  to  them  for  the  favors  he  had 
received,  and,  finally,  calling  them  apart  in  secret,  he  revealed 
to  them  all  the  circumstances  of  his  life,  how  he  had  come  by 
his  wealth,  and  how  he  had  found  the  boy  whom  he  had 
adopted  as  his  son.  Many  times,  he  affirmed,  had  he  deter- 
mined in  his  conscience-stricken  mind  to  disclose  the  secrets 
of  his  life,  but  to  this  day  had  always  deferred  it.  Entreating 
their  pardon  that  a  man  of  his  condition  should  request  so 
great  a  favor  from  the  masters  of  the  world,  he  begged  them 
to  receive  his  son  after  his  death  and  educate  him  for  the 
order  of  knighthood.  At  the  same  time,  he  revealed  to  them 
the  real  descent  of  the  boy,  how  he  was  the  nephew  of  the 
famous  King  Arthur,  who  had  by  this  time  succeeded  his 
father,  Uther  Pendragon.  i>395-]  He  prayed,  moreover,  that 
the  story  should  be  kept  secret  from  every  one — even  the  boy 
himself — that  not  even  his  name  should  be  disclosed  until 
he  was  recognized  by  his  parents,  since  this  was  prohibited, 
according  to  the  terms  of  the  document  found  with  him,  and, 
finally,  that  he  should  be  sent  back  to  these  parents  as  soon 
as  he  had  attained  the  age  of  manhood.  He  then  summoned 
before  him  his  adopted  son,  who  had  up  to  this  time  been  called 
"the  Boy  without  a  Name,"  and  embracing  the  Emperor's 
feet,  commended  the  youth  to  his  protection.  He  then  had 


DE   ORTU  WALUUANII.  437 

the  case  brought,  which  contained  the  documents  delivered 
to  the  merchants  by  Anna,  and  showed  them  to  the  Emperor. 
The  latter  received  the  boy  into  his  arms  and  promised  to 
carry  out  the  desire  of  his  dying  friend.  Viamundus,  having 
thus  achieved  his  wish,  ended  his  life,  and  with  the  lamenta- 
tions of  every  one,  was  buried  in  a  pyramid  of  marvelous 
construction,  in  the  midst  of  monuments  of  men  of  noble  rank. 

After  the  death  of  Viamundus,  the  Boy  without  a  Name,  by 
the  Emperor's  order,  was  brought  to  the  palace  and  enrolled 
among  the  youths  especially  attached  to  the  sovereign's  person. 
At  the  end  of  three  years — namely,  in  the  fifteenth  year  of 
his  age — having  proved  his  capacity,  he  was  fitted  out  with 
arms  by  the  Emperor,  and,  together  with  twenty  other  youths, 
was  made  a  knight.  In  the  trials  of  strength  and  skill,  which 
followed  in  the  Roman  circus,  the  adopted  son  of  Viamundus 
won  every  prize.  When  conducted  into  the  presence  of  the 
Emperor,  tp-aw.]  an(J  permitted  by  the  latter  to  demand  any 
reward  he  might  please,  he  replied  that  he  desired  no  reward 
save  the  privilege  of  acting  as  champion  on  the  next  occasion 
of  a  single  combat  with  any  of  the  Emperor's  enemies.  The 
Emperor  assented  and  enrolled  him  in  the  first  rank  of  his 
knights. 

On  the  first  day  that  the  young  knight  was  received  into 
the  order,  on  his  way  to  the  above-mentioned  trial  of  arms, 
he  wore  a  purple  tunic  over  his  arms,  which  he  called  his 
surcoat.  It  had  not  been  the  custom  hitherto  for  knights  to 
wear  surcoats  over  their  armour  in  this  fashion,  so  he  was 
questioned  by  the  other  knights  as  to  the  meaning  of  this. 
He  replied  that  he  had  put  on  this  surcoat  for  the  sake  of 
ornament,  whereupon  the  whole  host  cried  out :  "  The  new 
Knight  of  the  Surcoat !  the  new  Knight  of  the  Surcoat !"  and 
henceforth  the  name  of  the  "Knight  of  the  Surcoat"  stuck  to 
him.  From  this  day  on  he  grew  in  excellence  of  every  kind, 
displaying  his  valor  in  each  contest,  and  receiving  higher  and 
higher  promotion  at  the  hands  of  the  Emperor. 


438  J.  r>.  BRUCE. 

"Whilst  these  things  were  going  on  at  Rome,  a  war  arose 
between  the  king  of  the  Persians  and  the  Christians  who 
inhabited  Jerusalem.  The  day  on  which  it  was  determined 
to  give  battle  was  at  hand,  and  the  forces  were  advancing 
against  one  another,  when  the  wiser  heads  of  either  army 
secured  an  agreement  for  a  temporary  cessation  of  hostilities, 
and  the  appointment  of  delegates  to  discuss  the  conditions 
of  peace.  After  a  long  debate  it  was  [p-  397-]  agreed  by  the 
representatives  of  the  two  armies  that  the  questions  in  dis- 
pute should  be  decided  by  a  single  combat  between  chosen 
champions  of  the  respective  hosts.  The  Christians,  however, 
being  subjects  of  the  Emperor,  could  not  accede  to  this  pro- 
posal without  his  consent,  and  were  compelled  to  request  an 
armistice  until  they  should  receive  an  answer  from  Rome. 
Representatives  were  accordingly  despatched  to  the  Emperor, 
who  were  also  instructed  to  beg  of  him  a  suitable  champion, 
in  case  he  did  not  object  to  the  above-mentioned  terms  agreed 
to  with  the  enemy.  The  Emperor  readily  consented,  but  was 
still  deliberating  on  the  choice  of  a  champion,  when  the  affair 
came  to  the  ears  of  the  Knight  of  the  Surcoat.  Without  delay 
the  latter  claimed  the  fulfillment  of  the  promise  made  him  by 
the  Emperor  on  the  day  of  his  becoming  knight.  Although 
loth  to  part  with  so  excellent  a  warrior,  the  Emperor  yielded 
to  his  request — all  the  more  readily,  as  he  was  anxious  that 
the  champion  sent  out  should  uphold  the  glory  of  the  Roman 
arms.  l>398-3  He  ordered  him,  then,  to  be  well  supplied  with 
equipments  of  war,  and  besides  had  him  accompanied  by  a 
troop  of  a  hundred  horse,  commanded  by  a  centurion.  The 
company  at  once  started  on  their  journey,  and  going  down  to 
the  Adriatic  took  ship  there.  They  were  joined  by  sixteen 
vessels  bearing  merchants  and  pilgrims  to  the  Holy  Land, 
who  sought  the  protection  of  the  knight  and  his  company  on 
account  of  the  pirates  infesting  those  seas,  and  they  all  set 
sail  together.  After  having  been  tossed  about  at  sea  for 
twenty-five  days,  and  finding  themselves  unable  on  account 
of  the  storms  to  make  a  port  or  to  keep  a  straight  course, 


DE   ORTU   WALUUANII.  439 

they  put  in  at  a  certain  island  (in  the  Egean  Sea,  as  is  later 
said),  inhabited  by  a  barbarous  people,  immoderately  addicted 
to  gluttony  and  lust,  and  of  so  cruel  a  disposition  that  they 
spared  neither  sex  nor  age.  Even  merchants  avoided  the 
island,  so  that  it  remained,  as  it  were,  out  of  the  world. 
The  inhabitants  of  this  island  did  not  exceed  three  cubits  in 
stature  and  rarely  lived  beyond  fifty  years  of  age.  On  the 
other  hand,  they  rarely  died  under  ten.  Enjoying  abundant 
food — nay,  wealth  even — and  being  accustomed  moreover  to 
hardships,  the  race  was  also  remarkable  for  its  fecundity. 

Now,  the  rumor  had  gone  forth  among  all  pagan  nations 
that  an  invincible  champion  had  been  despatched  by  the 
Emperor  to  defend  the  cause  of  the  Christians  in  the  im- 
pending duel.  They  accordingly  sent  word  to  their  brother 
pagans  of  the  barbarous  isles  in  the  Egean  Sea,  which  the 
imperial  expedition  had  to  traverse,  to  be  on  their  watch  to 
destroy  the  Roman  force,  in  case  it  attempted  a  landing  on 
these  islands,  and  they  stationed  pirates,  moreover,  here  and 
there  i>399-J  to  intercept  the  passage  of  this  force.  At  that 
time  the  ruler  over  the  island,  where  the  expedition  had  put 
in,  was  an  enemy  of  the  Roman  people,  named  Milocrates. 
He  had  carried  off  by  force  the  niece  of  the  Emperor,  who 
was  betrothed  to  the  king  of  Illyria,  and  had  taken  posses- 
sion of  this  island.  On  receiving  news  of  the  expedition  he 
fortified  the  ports  and  towns  along  the  seashore,  with  a  view 
to  harassing  the  Romans  as  they  passed,  or  attacking  them, 
if  a  landing  was  attempted.  The  shores,  however,  about  the 
spot  where  the  Roman  ships  touched  land,  were  covered  with 
forests,  in  which  there  were  kept  wild  animals  of  certain  fine 
species,  reserved  exclusively  for  the  king  and  his  nobles. 

As  soon  as  the  centurion  and  his  fleet  reached  the  island, 
the  hero  of  our  story  disembarked,  and  with  a  few  com- 
panions went  to  hunt  in  the  forest.  He  had  already  slain  six 
stags,  and  had  uncoupled  his  hounds  in  pursuit  of  a  seventh, 
when  the  cry  of  the  dogs  and  the  sound  of  the  horns  were 
heard  by  a  keeper  of  the  forest.  This  man  summoned  the 


440  J.   D.    BRUCE. 

rest  of  the  keepers — for  there  were  twenty  of  them — and 
taking  their  arras  with  them  they  all  hurried  together  to 
discover  who  were  the  invaders  of  the  forest.  On  coming 
up  with  these  invaders,  they  asked  the  strangers  by  whose 
permission  they  were  hunting  in  the  royal  preserves,  where 
usually  no  one  was  even  allowed  to  set  foot,  and  furthermore 
summoned  them  to  lay  down  their  arms.  The  Knight  of 
the  Surcoat  replied :  "  We  have  taken  here  what  we  need 
by  the  same  authority  that  we  came  hither,  and  we  shall 
only  lay  down  our  arms  when  we  have  buried  them  in  your 
entrails."  At  the  same  time  he  hurled  a  dart  into  the  throat 
of  the  spokesman  of  the  keepers.  [p>  400-]  On  the  Roman  side 
many  were  without  arms,  which  was  not  the  case  with  their 
adversaries.  In  the  general  mele'e  which  ensued,  as  the  Knight 
of  the  Surcoat  saw  his  companions  yielding,  he  rushed  with 
drawn  sword  upon  the  leader  of  the  keepers,  struck  him  down, 
and  seizing  hold  of  the  nose-piece  of  his  helmet,  dragged  him 
over  to  the  Romans'  side  and  there  slew  him,  and  stripped 
him  of  his  armour.  Then,  himself  clad  in  the  armour  of  the 
slain  keeper,  he  renewed  the  attack  and  alone  killed  thirteen 
of  the  enemy.  In  the  end,  only  one  man  escaped  to  report 
the  disaster.  This  survivor  hid  himself  in  the  bushes  until  the 
Romans  had  retired,  and  then  hastened  to  carry  the  news  to 
King  Milocrates,  at  that  time  sojourning  in  a  city  which  he 
had  founded,  in  a  delightful  spot,  three  miles  inland.  The 
king  at  once  despatched  messengers  to  summon  the  nobles  of 
his  country  to  assemble  as  soon  as  possible  with  all  the  forces 
they  could  bring  together.  This  command  they  obeyed  in 
such  numbers  that  the  city  could  not  contain  them  all,  and 
they  were  compelled  to  camp  in  the  country  round  about, 
whilst  Milocrates  held  a  council  of  war. 

In  the  meanwhile  the  Knight  of  the  Surcoat  returned  to 
the  ships  to  receive  the  congratulations  of  his  comrades. 
On  the  third  day  from  this  they  attempted  to  proceed  on 
their  voyage,  but  in  consequence  of  unfavorable  winds  found 
it  necessary  to  return  to  the  spot  they  had  left.  The  cen- 


DE  ORTU   WALUUANII.  441 

turion,  in  his  turn,  now  held  a  council  of  war  and  set  before 
the  chief  men  of  his  host  the  dangers  of  their  situation,  how 
King  Milocrates  and  his  nobles  were  making  ready  l>401-]  to 
avenge  the  death  of  the  keepers,  the  insufficiency,  moreover, 
of  the  Roman  force  to  resist  so  great  a  multitude  of  enemies, 
and  the  inadequacy  of  their  provisions.  He  recommended 
that  spies  should  be  sent  out  to  report  on  what  it  might  seem 
most  advisable  to  do.  As  best  fitted  for  this  purpose,  the 
Knight  of  the  Surcoat  and  Odabal,  a  relative  of  the  cen- 
turion, were  selected.  They  armed  themselves  and  set  out 
through  the  forest  to  the  city.  At  the  very  entrance  of  the 
woods  they  encountered  a  famous  boar  which  our  knight 
only  slew  after  a  desperate  struggle.  Having  placed  the 
carcass  on  his  horse,  he  sent  it  back  to  the  centurion  by  his 
squire,  who  again  joined  him  before  noon  at  the  city  gates. 
They  then  entered  the  city  and  went  to  the  palace,  mingling 
with  the  royal  company  there,  as  if  a  part  of  it,  [T-  402-]  and 
escaping  detection  through  their  knowledge  of  the  language 
of  the  island.  They  wandered  thus  in  every  direction  through 
the  city  and  country  round  about  and  ascertained  the  strength 
of  the  enemy's  troops  already  assembled,  and  also  of  those 
which  were  still  expected.  For  King  Milocrates  had  been 
greatly  alarmed  by  false  intelligence  which  his  spies  had 
brought  him  the  day  before  as  to  the  great  multitude  of  the 
invaders,  and  had  taken  his  measures  accordingly.  These 
men  had  been  captured  by  the  centurion  and  compelled  by 
threats  of  death — to  say  nothing  of  the  influence  of  bribes — 
to  return  to  the  king  and  render  this  report.  Milocrates 
sent  then  for  his  brother,  Buzafarnan,  who  ruled  over  a 
neighboring  kingdom,  to  come  to  him  as  quickly  and  with 
as  great  a  force  as  possible,  and  postponed  action  until  his 
arrival.  Now,  on  the  very  day  that  the  hero  of  our  story 
came  to  the  city,  it  chanced  that  King  Milocrates  was  hold- 
ing a  council  of  war  with  his  nobles,  in  which  it  was  agreed 
that  on  the  arrival  of  Buzafarnan  the  army  should  be  divided 
into  two  parts,  and  that  the  invaders  should  be  attacked  both 
10 


442  J.   D.    BRUCE. 

by  sea  and  by  land,  so  that  they  might  have  no  room  for 
escape.  The  Knight  of  the  Surcoat  mingled  undetected  with 
the  rest  at  the  council  and  took  note  of  all  that  was  said. 

By  the  end  of  the  council  the  sun  had  set  and  Milocrates 
hastened  to  his  evening  meal.  The  knight,  still  mingling 
with  the  king's  followers,  entered  the  palace,  leaving  his  com- 
panions outside,  and  whilst  the  other  inmates  of  the  palace 
were  at  the  feast,  he  penetrated,  disguised  and  unsuspected,  to 
the  chamber  of  the  king's  unwilling  consort,  l>403-]  where  she 
passed  her  time  exclusively  in  the  company  of  her  damsels. 
He  began  now  to  deliberate  as  to  what  he  should  do,  all 
the  time  keeping  on  his  guard  against  any  unlucky  turn 
of  affairs.  He  hesitated  to  carry  out  his  original  purpose 
of  slaying  the  king,  for  fear  lest  his  own  life  might  be 
endangered.  On  the  other  hand,  he  could  not  endure  the 
shame  of  returning  to  his  host  with  nothing  accomplished. 
Whilst  he  was  reflecting  on  what  he  should  do,  a  soldier 
named  Nab[a]or,  one  of  those  whom  the  king  had  lately  sent 
as  a  spy  to  the  Roman  fleet,  passed  by  bearing  a  message  to 
the  queen  from  her  lord.  As  the  knight  was  himself  in  the 
dark,  he  recognized  Nabaor  without  being  perceived  in  turn ; 
for  the  latter  had  been  one  of  the  spies  captured  by  the  centu- 
rion, and  during  his  captivity  had  formed  so  strong  a  friendship 
for  the  Knight  of  the  Surcoat,  that  on.  being  set  free  he  had 
received  from  him  a  ring  and  a  purple  cloak  as  tokens  of 
remembrance.  Accordingly  the  knight,  on  recognizing  his 
friend,  called  him  and  embraced  him.  He  then  informed 
him  of  the  reason  of  his  being  there,  and  promised  him 
rewards,  if  he  should  keep  faith  with  him  and  aid  him  in  the 
execution  of  his  designs.  Nabaor  wondered  at  the  presence 
of  the  knight  in  that  place,  but  rejoiced  at  the  opportunity 
afforded  him  of  repaying  the  generosity  of  his  friend.  He 
took  him  to  a  more  secret  part  of  the  palace  and  endeavored 
to  dissuade  him  from  his  design  on  the  king's  life,  telling 
him  that  thirty  guards  kept  watch  over  the  king  whilst  he 
was  at  the  banquet,  and  prevented  all  access  to  him  until  the 


DE   OETU   WALUUANII.  443 

dawn  of  day.  tp-404-l  He  explained,  on  the  other  hand,  that 
the  curiosity  of  the  queen  had  been  greatly  aroused  in  regard 
to  the  knight  by  the  reports  that  he  had  brought  back  from 
his  captivity  with  the  centurion,  so  that  the  queen  was  eager 
to  see  him  and  more  concerned  about  his  safety  than  about 
that  of  the  king — for,  although  she  had  been  treated  by 
Milocrates  with  the  honor  which  befitted  her  station,  she 
could  never  forget  that  she  had  been  snatched  away  by  vio- 
lence from  her  betrothed  lover,  and  would  have  preferred 
freedom  as  a  poor  man's  wife  to  the  life  of  captivity,  which 
she  now  led  in  the  midst  of  all  her  splendor.  From  the  time 
that  she  had  heard  of  our  knight  as  the  champion  chosen  by 
the  Emperor,  on  account  of  his  unequalled  valor,  she  had 
striven  in  every  way  to  devise  means  of  speaking  with  him, 
in  the  hope  that  through  him  she  might  be  restored  to  her 
intended  husband.  He  might,  therefore,  feel  assured  of  her 
eager  support  in  his  attempt  to  overcome  King  Milocrates. 
In  view,  however,  of  the  inconstancy  of  women,  Nabaor 
advised,  that  he  should  be  allowed  to  sound  the  queen  once 
more  before  finally  bringing  the  knight  into  her  presence. 
He  accordingly  approached  her  and  artfully  introduced  his 
name  into  their  conversation  with  many  praises.  The  queen 
soon  expressed  her  regret  that  she  could  have  no  opportunity 
of  putting  her  cause  into  the  hands  of  so  worthy  a  champion, 
feeling  sure  that,  if  this  were  possible,  on  her  i>405-]  father's 
account,  if  no  other,  he  would  find  means  of  rescuing  her. 
She  spoke  thus  freely  with  Nabaor,  because  he  was  one  of 
those  whom  Milocrates  had  enslaved  like  herself.  Nabaor 
quickly  assured  her  that,  if  such  were  her  wish,  the  knight 
would  be  brought  before  her  at  once,  and  on  her  protesting 
the  sincerity  of  her  desire,  introduced  our  hero  into  the  room 
and  explained  to  her  the  cause  of  his  presence  in  the  palace. 
On  his  entering  the  queen  bade  the  handsome  knight  be 
seated,  and  after  observing  him  carefully  for  a  time  she 
disclosed  to  him  with  tears  and  sighs  all  her  troubles,  add- 
ing that  it  was  in  his  power  to  remedy  them.  The  knight 


444  J.    D.    BRUCE, 

replied  that,  notwithstanding  his  willingness  to  serve  her,  the 
superiority  of  Milocrates'  forces  could  not  be  overlooked,  and 
invited  her  to  suggest  some  means  by  which  this  superiority 
might  be  overcome.  As  the  queen  remained  silent  for  a  time, 
Nabaor  next  ventured  to  speak.  He  proposed  that  they 
should  take  advantage  of  the  great  assemblage  of  troops  and 
the  occupation  of  the  king  to  send  word  to  the  centurion  to 
despatch  secretly  forty  armed  men  &-m-l  on  the  following 
day  through  the  forest,  who  should  take  possession  of  the 
city  with  the  queen's  assistance.  When  they  had  effected 
this,  they  were  to  set  fire  to  the  city,  so  as  to  fill  the  king's 
army  with  consternation  and  his  enemies  at  the  same  time 
with  encouragement.  The  queen  then  implored  the  knight 
to  carry  out  this  plan,  and  presented  him  with  the  sword  and 
arms  of  Milocrates,  on  which  the  charm  rested,  that  whoso- 
ever first  wore  them  besides  the  king  would  deprive  the 
latter  of  his  royal  rank.  She  made  him  still  other  presents 
of  gold  and  silver,  and  pledged  him  her  friendship.  After 
this  the  knight  returned  in  haste  to  his  comrades,  who  all  the 
while  had  been  awaiting  him,  and  led  them  in  the  early  dawn 
back  to  the  centurion,  to  whom  he  now  related  all  that  had 
passed. 

The  centurion,  greatly  elated,  selected  the  troops  which 
were  to  be  sent  to  the  queen  and  placed  Odabal  in  command 
of  them.  On  the  evening  of  the  next  day  this  band  made  its 
way  to  a  vineyard  near  the  royal  palace,  and,  having  been 
admitted  there  by  Nabaor  at  the  queen's  command,  they  lay 
hid  all  that  night.  At  the  break  of  day  on  the  morrow  King 
Milocrates  went  forth  to  fight  with  the  army  of  the  centurion, 
at  the  same  time  ordering  his  brother  with  the  fleet  to  attack 
him  from  behind.  But  the  centurion  saw  through  the  plan 
and  drew  up  his  ships  on  shore  round  about  the  camp,  so 
that  in  case  of  need  they  might  be  used  as  defences.  The 
camp  had  been  placed  in  a  secure  spot  not  far  from  the  sea. 
The  centurion  then  led  out  his  forces  in  five  divisions,  he 
himself  being  at  the  head  of  the  middle  division,  and  advanced 


DE   ORTU    WALUUANII.  445 

directly  against  the  king.  The  latter  was  accompanied  by 
fifteen  thousand  men,  but  he  already  despaired  of  victory — 
for  on  going  forth  to  battle  he  had  asked  for  the  arms  with 
which  not  only  his  own  fate,  but  that  of  his  whole  kingdom 
was  linked,  and  they  were  nowhere  to  be  found.  l>407-]  The 
unhappy  Milocrates  only  discovered  that  they  were  in  the 
possession  of  the  Knight  of  the  Surcoat  when  he  saw  him 
wearing  them  on  the  field  of  battle.  He  groaned  at  the  sight 
of  this,  but  did  not  turn  back,  as  his  good  fame  required  that 
he  should  either  conquer  or  die  bravely. 

The  trumpet  had  already  sounded  and  the  troops  of  the 
two  sides  were  about  to  close  with  one  another  in  battle  when 
a  smoke  rising  up  from  the  city  directed  attention  thither. 
On  the  king's  leaving  the  city,  Odabal's  band,  which  had  lain 
in  concealment,  had  come  forth,  taken  possession  of  the  city 
and  set  fire  to  its  outskirts.  As  the  fire  extended,  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  city  became  evident,  and  the  sparks  began  to  fly 
across  the  faces  of  the  very  combatants  a  great  distance  off. 
The  heart  of  the  king  was  filled  with  fear  when  he  saw  this 
disaster  imminent,  and,  postponing  the  battle  which  he  had 
begun,  he  hastened  back  to  the  rescue  of  the  city.  This  was 
the  signal  for  a  mad  rout,  of  which  the  Romans  took  advan- 
tage, pursuing  and  slaying  their  enemies  in  every  direction. 
[P.  408.]  Xheir  comrades,  moreover,  who  had  set  fire  to  the 
town,  drove  back  from  its  walls  the  throngs  of  fugitives 
who  endeavored  to  take  refuge  there,  so  that  they  were 
unable  to  escape  their  pursuers.  King  Milocrates'  men,  with- 
out a  leader  and  thrown  thus  into  confusion,  suffered  terrible 
slaughter  on  every  side. 

The  king,  however,  on  seeing  himself  surrounded  by  his 
enemies,  made  an  effort  at  least  to  terminate  his  life  in  an 
honorable  manner.  He  arranged  his  men  in  the  form  of 
a  wedge,  and,  opposing  the  attack  of  the  Romans,  gained  a 
temporary  success.  When  the  Knight  of  the  Surcoat  came 
up,  Milocrates  engaged  him  in  a  single  combat,  which  was 
continued  for  a  time  with  varying  success,  tp-409-]  but  at 


446  J.    D.    BRUCE. 

length  the  king  fell  by  his  adversary's  sword  and  the  rout 
of  his  troops  was  more  complete  than  ever.  The  centurion, 
however,  having  put  an  end  to  all  effective  resistance,  called 
off  his  men,  and  after  collecting  the  spoils  of  his  victory, 
made  his  triumphal  entrance  into  the  city.  The  queen  came 
out  to  meet  them  and  attended  to  the  burial  of  the  dead, 
whilst  she  also  saw  to  the  wounded  and  bestowed  rewards  on 
all  the  surviving  troops. 

The  centurion  tarried  fifteen  days  in  the  island.  He  gave 
over  the  country  to  his  soldiers  for  plunder  and  inflicted 
fitting  punishment  on  nobles  and  people.  He  then  left  a 
part  of  his  forces  on  the  island,  sent  still  another  part  to  con- 
duct the  queen  to  her  lawful  husband,  the  King  x>f  Illyria, 
whilst  he  himself  embarked  with  the  rest  and  proceeded  with 
the  fulfilment  of  his  mission.  He  had  only  been  a  day  out 
at  sea,  however,  [p-410-3  when  he  encountered  the  fleet  com- 
manded by  Milocrates'  brother,1  which  had  been  despatched 
to  attack  the  Romans  from  behind.  They  had,  indeed,  gone 
to  the  place  where  they  imagined  the  Roman  ships  were 
stationed,  but  they  had  failed  to  find  them  there — for  the 
Romans  had  removed  their  vessels  a  little  way  up  within 
the  land  to  form  a  part  of  the  fortification  of  their  camp,  as 
described  above.  Thinking  that  the  Romans  had  fled,  the 
king's  brother  put  out  to  sea  again,  but,  a  great  storm  aris- 
ing, he  was  tossed  about  for  three  days  and  finally  driven  off 
to  countries  five  days  distant  from  his  destination.  As  the 
wind  went  down,  he  was  endeavoring  to  effect  his  return, 
when  he  met  the  centurion's  fleet  in  mid-sea. 

Now  it  chanced  that  just  at  this  time  the  centurion  himself, 
with  the  Knight  of  the  Surcoat  at  his  side,  was  on  the  look- 
out in  a  tower  in  the  stern  of  his  vessel,  and  at  first  saw  only 
the  images  of  cocks  and  the  like  which,  as  is  the  custom, 
were  attached  to  the  masts  to  show  which  way  the  wind 
blew.  As  he  saw  these  objects  driven  up  and  down  in  the 
breeze,  the  centurion,  thinking  they  were  storm-birds,  called 

1  Here  called  Egesarius. 


DE  ORTU  WALUUANI1.  447 

the  pilot  of  the  ship  and  warned  him  that  rough  weather  was 
coming  on,  as  the  appearance  of  these  birds  was  thought  to 
portend  a  storm  and  disasters  to  seamen.  But  the  Knight 
of  the  Surcoat,  who  was  near  by,  understood  that  they  were 
really  images  attached  to  the  masts  of  vessels  of  the  enemies' 
fleet  and,  [p-411-J  explaining  the  matter  thus  to  the  centurion, 
urged  him  to  get  ready  their  arms  and  be  prepared. 

Soon  all  the  men  in  the  centurion's  ship  were  under  arms, 
and  the  signal  for  preparation  was  given  to  the  rest  of  the 
ships  as  well — for  there  were  now  thirty  in  all,  since  fifteen 
from  the  island  recently  subdued  had  been  added  to  the 
original  number.  They  were  then  arranged  in  the  desired 
order  of  battle.  The  Romans  placed  in  front  five  very  formi- 
dable ships  furnished  with  rostra,  very  much  used  among 
the  pirates.  The  vessels  not  manned  with  soldiers  were  put 
behind  the  others,  so  that  in  case  of  defeat  they  might  have  a 
better  chance  of  escape.  When  everything  was  ready  and 
anchors  cast,  they  awaited  the  approach  of  the  enemy.  The 
latter  on  their  side  made  also  a  skilful  division  of  their  fleet. 
But  the  Knight  of  the  Surcoat,  as  he  saw  them  advancing 
prepared  for  battle,  gave  orders  that  his  ships  should  raise 
their  anchors  and  bear  down  as  swiftly  as  possible  on  the 
enemy — [p-412-]  especially  on  the  vessel  which  bore  the  com- 
mander of  their  fleet.  This  vessel  was  desperately  shattered 
in  the  first  shock  and  the  commander  himself  lost  his  life. 
A  great  part  of  the  crew  were  also  slain  or  drowned,  and  the 
rest  were  made  captive,  whilst  the  ship  was  robbed  of  its 
treasures  and  then  sunk. 

After  the  destruction  of  these  men  the  knight  engaged  the 
remaining  vessels.  Though  surrounded  and  outnumbered,  he 
offered  so  fierce  a  resistance  that  the  enemy  now  resorted  to 
the  terrible  Greek  fire,  a  long  description  of  which  in  this 
place  interrupts  the  story.1  i>416-]  The  vessel  in  which  the 
knight  and  the  centurion,  were,  caught  fire,  but  the  former 

1This  description,  which  is  omitted  in  the  Paraphrase,  will  be  found, 
pp.  412-416. 


448  J.    D.    BRUCE. 

sprang  armed  into  the  ship  from  which  the  fire  had  been 
cast,  and  succeeded  in  capturing  it  and  transferring  to  it  his 
own  men.  After  this,  having  brought  together  the  whole 
Roman  fleet,  he  hastened  to  revenge  himself  on  the  remainder 
of  the  enemy's  vessels,  and  in  the  end  sank  ten  of  them  and 
carried  off  thirty. 

When  the  naval  battle  was  over,  the  Roman  expedition 
proceeded  on  their  journey  to  Jerusalem  and  arrived  there 
safely  by  the  appointed  time.  They  were  received  with  great 
delight  by  the  Christians  and  were  able  to  tp-417-3  rest  after 
their  toil  and  dangers.  In  the  meanwhile  the  Christians 
brought  together  troops  from  every  side.  They,  moreover, 
fortified  their  towns  and  supplied  them  with  provisions,  nor 
did  they  neglect  to  endeavor  to  secure  the  favor  of  heaven  by 
prayers,  fasting  and  alms. 

On  the  day  which  had  been  set  for  the  duel  the  champions 
of  the  Christians  and  Persians  respectively  appeared  in  the 
field,  and  the  armies  of  both  ranged  themselves  round  about 
to  witness  the  encounter.  A  huge  warrior,  named  Gor- 
mundus,  fierce  and  of  long  experience  in  war,  defended  the 
cause  of  the  Persians.  The  duel  took  place  on  foot  because 
there  was  no  steed  able  to  bear  the  heathen  champion  on 
account  of  his  immense  height.  The  antagonists  then  began 
the  combat,  which  is  described  by  the  author  with  many 
rhetorical  flourishes,  but  very  little  narrative  detail.  It  lasted 
without  result  all  that  day  and  had  to  be  renewed  on  the 
morrow.  [p>418-]  The  duel  when  thus  renewed  was  even  fr-419-] 
fiercer  than  before  and  the  issue  was  still  doubtful  at  the 
close  of  the  second  day.  So  hard  pressed  was  the  Knight  of 
the  Surcoat,  when  they  were  separated,  that  the  heathen  host 
could  hardly  be  restrained  from  a  tumult  on  seeing  their 
champion  deprived  of  his  advantage. 

[p-42o.]  jn  j.jie  comDat  of  the  second  day  the  sword  of  the 
knight  and  the  shield  of  Gormundus  respectively  had  been 
broken  and  rendered  useless.  A  violent  dispute  arose  between 
the  two  hosts  in  regard  to  the  third  day's  encounter,  whether 


DE   QRTU   WALTJUANII.  449 

new  arms  should  be  allowed  to  both  the  champions,  or  to 
one  and  not  the  other,  tp-421-]  But,  this  matter  having  been 
arranged,  the  struggle  was  renewed  for  the  third  day.  Our 
author  compares  this  combat  with  that  of  the  Lapithae  (and 
Centaurs),  and  the  strokes  of  the  antagonists  to  those  of  the 
Cyclops  on  their  anvils.  After  it  had  raged  for  a  long  time, 
Gormundus,  wearied  out,  was  forced  by  his  adversary  out- 
side of  the  circle  within  which,  according  to  the  agreement, 
the  duel  was  to  be  fought.  Then,  in  answer  to  the  despair- 
ing cries  of  his  countrymen,  Cp -422'1  Gormundus  made  a  final 
stand,  but  was  struck  down,  and  a  last  thrust  of  his  adver- 
sary's sword  which  pierced  his  breast — non  optabile  stomacho 
antidotum,  as  our  author  remarks — put  an  end  to  his  life. 
The  knight  then  cut  off  the  head  of  the  dead  champion  and 
spurned  it  with  his  foot,  whilst  the  pagan  host  in  their  grief 
could  hardly  be  restrained  from  throwing  themselves  upon 
the  victor.  As  their  champion,  however,  was  dead,  they  were 
compelled  to  fulfill  the  terms  of  their  agreement  with  the 
Christians  and  give  pledges  of  their  subjection  to  the  Roman 
Emperor.  The  Knight  of  the  Surcoat,  on  the  other  hand, 
received  valuable  presents  from  the  nobility  of  Jerusalem, 
and,  bearing  with  him  his  trophies,  he  returned  in  triumph  to 
Rome  and  was  welcomed  there  by  the  Emperor  and  Senate. 
The  former  assigned  him  a  place  among  his  especially  chosen 
attendants  and  destined  him  to  the  highest  honors  at  the  first 
opportunity  that  presented  itself. 

[p-  423-]  But  our  hero  soon  wearied  of  the  peace  which  then 
reigned  throughout  the  Roman  Empire  and  looked  about  for 
some  region  where  war  might  be  prevailing,  in  order  that  he 
might  find  new  opportunities  for  the  exercise  of  his  valor. 
Now,  about  this  time  the  noble  exploits  of  King  Arthur — 
the  uncle  of  our  knight,  who  was,  however,  still  ignorant 
of  the  relationship — became  noised  abroad  throughout  all  the 
world  and  our  hero  accordingly  determined  to  try  his  fortunes 
in  Britain.  The  Emperor  deeply  regretted  the  departure  of 
so  admirable  a  warrior.  He,  nevertheless,  gave  his  consent, 


450  J.   D.    BRUCE. 

in  part,  because  he  wished  the  knight  to  become  acquainted 
with  his  real  descent,  and,  in  part,  because  he  hoped  that 
through  him  Britain  might  some  day  again  become  annexed 
to  the  Roman  Empire.  He  supplied  him,  therefore,  with 
valuable  presents,  which  were  to  be  delivered  to  King  Arthur, 
and  among  them  the  case  containing  the  documents  which 
told  the  story  of  the  knight's  birth.  To  these  documents  he 
attached  his  own  seal  as  a  guarantee  that  all  the  circum- 
stances which  they  set  forth  were  indisputable.  He  forbade 
the  knight  to  look  into  the  case  until  he  had  come  to  King 
Arthur.  On  the  other  hand,  he  sent  word  to  the  chief  men 
of  Gaul,  through  whose  country  he  was  to  pass,  to  aid  him 
and  show  him  every  honor. 

The  young  knight  took  his  departure  from  the  court  to  the 
regret  of  all,  crossed  the  Alps,  traversed  Gaul  and  arrived 
safely  in  Britain.  On  inquiring  where  he  might  find  King 
Arthur,  he  learned  that  the  latter  was  then  in  the  city  of 
Caerleon,  in  Demecia,  which  he  preferred  to  all  other  cities — 
for  the  country  there  was  covered  with  groves  and  abounded 
in  beasts  of  chase,  and  was,  moreover,  rich  and  delightful  on 
account  of  its  green  meadows,  which  were  irrigated  by  the 
waters  of  the  Usk  and  Severn.  There,  furthermore,  was 
the  seat  of  the  Bishop  of  Demecia,  there  Arthur  fr-424-!  was 
crowned  and  celebrated  his  great  festivals,  and  there  also  he 
held  the  great  assemblies  of  the  chiefs  of  Britain.  When 
he  had  ascertained  where  Arthur  was  to  be  found,  he  hastened 
onward,  night  and  day,  but  six  miles  from  his  destination, 
near  the  town  of  Usk,  he  was  arrested  by  a  great  storm  of 
wind  and  rain,  in  which  his  companions  either  lost  their  way 
or  were  separated  from  him. 

On  the  same  night  King  Arthur  and  Gwendolen,  his  wife, 
were  lying  in  bed  together  and  talking  of  various  things. 
The  latter  was  the  most  beautiful  of  women,  but  she  was, 
besides,  well-skilled  in  magical  arts,  so  that  she  was  often 
able  to  tell  beforehand  things  which  were  yet  to  happen. 
Amongst  other  things,  whilst  they  were  thus  conversing,  the 


DE  OKTU  WALUUANII.  451 

queen  foretold  to  her  husband  that  there  was  even  then  on 
the  way  to  Caerleon  a  knight  who  would  prove  superior 
to  the  king  himself  in  valor.  He  was  clad  in  impenetrable 
armor,  she  said,  and  was  riding  on  a  steed  which  had  not  its 
equal  for  strength  and  beauty.  As  a  proof  of  the  truth  of 
her  clairvoyance  she  predicted  that  .early  on  the  morrow  this 
knight  would  send  her  a  golden  ring  and  three  bridle-bits 
with  two  horses.  Arthur  reflected  that  she  was  never  mis- 
taken in  her  predictions,  but  he  determined  to  put  the  matter 
to  the  test  without  her  knowledge.  For  frequently,  as  soon 
as  he  heard  of  the  approach  of  some  particularly  brave 
knight,  he  would  go  out  to  meet  him,  in  order  to  try  his 
strength  and  skill  in  an  encounter. 

When  the  queen  fell  asleep  again,  a  little  later,  King 
Arthur  arose,  and,  having  armed  himself,  mounted  his  steed 
and  rode  off  without  any  companion,  except  his  seneschal, 
Kay.  He  came  upon  the  Knight  of  the  Surcoat  ^•425-^  stand- 
ing by  a  swollen  stream,  where  he  had  been  vainly  seeking  a 
ford  in  the  darkness.  Arthur  observed  him  by  the  gleaming 
of  his  armor  and,  calling  loudly  to  him,  demanded  who  he 
was — whether  he  was  an  exile,  a  robber  or  a  spy.  On  the 
knight's  replying  to  this  offensive  challenge  that  he  was  none 
of  the  three,  expressing  himself,  however,  at  some  length  and 
in  rather  florid  terms,  Arthur  taunted  him  with  his  loquacity 
and  gave  him  the  lie.  He  also  summoned  him  to  surrender 
his  arms  immediately.  The  knight  rejected  this  proposal 
scornfully,  and  they  then  put  spurs  to  their  horses  for  the 
attack  and  encountered  in  mid-stream.  Arthur  was  unhorsed 
and  fell  into  the  water,  whilst  the  knight  seized  the  reins  of 
the  riderless  steed  and  led  him  away.  Kay  endeavored  to 
avenge  his  master,  but  suffered  the  same  fate,  falling  at  the 
first  blow  on  top  of  Arthur  and  losing  his  steed  likewise.  In 
the  obscurity  of  the  night  they  escaped  any  further  harm — 
were  compelled,  however,  to  walk  ignominiously  home.  When 
Arthur  sought  his  bed  again,  Queen  Gwendolen,  noticing  that 
he  was  all  wet  and  stiff  with  cold,  asked  him  where  he  had 


452  J.   D.   BRUCE. 

been  so  long  and  the  reason  for  his  being  wet.  He  replied, 
that  having  heard  a  quarrel  in  the  court  he  had  t?-426^  gone 
out  to  stop  it  and  had  got  wet  in  the  rain.  The  queen 
rejoined  :  "  Be  it  as  you  say,  but  to-morrow  a  messenger  will 
tell  us  where  you  have  been  and  what  has  really  happened." 
The  knight  in  the  meanwhile  was  ignorant  as  to  who  had 
been  his  opponents.  He  did  not  cross  the  stream,  but  turned 
aside  to  a  place  near  by  and  lodged  there  for  the  night.  In 
the  early  morning  he  went  on  to  Caerleon.  About  two  miles 
from  the  city  he  met  a  boy,  and,  on  asking  him  in  whose 
service  he  was,  received  the  answer  that  he  was  charged  with 
secret  errands  for  the  queen.  The  knight  then  bade  him  take 
the  two  horses  which  he  had  captured  the  night  before  and 
present  them  to  the  queen  on  his  behalf  as  pledges  of  his 
friendship.  He  entrusted  to  the  boy,  moreover,  as  gifts  for 
the  queen,  a  golden  ring  and  three  golden  bridle-bits,  and, 
finally,  giving  the  name  by  which  he  was  known,  declared 
that  he  would  follow  closely  behind  him.  Queen  Gwendolen, 
foreseeing  what  was  to  happen,  stood  on  the  top  of  a  high 
tower  looking  over  the  road,  which  led  to  the  town  of  Usk. 
When  she  saw  her  messenger  come,  leading  the  two  horses, 
she  knew  what  it  meant,  so  she  went  down  and  met  him  as 
he  was  entering  the  palace.  The  boy  executed  all  that  had 
been  enjoined  him  and  announced  that  the  Knight  of  the 
Surcoat  was  at  hand.  The  queen  smiled  when  she  heard  his 
name,  but  she  accepted  the  gifts,  returned  thanks  for  them 
and  led  the  horses  into  King  Arthur's  chamber  before  his 
couch,  where  he  was  still  lying,  as  he  had  been  tired  out  by 
his  exertions  of  the  preceding  night.  The  queen  awakened 
him  and  said  :  "  My  Lord,  that  you  may  not  accuse  me  of 
falsehood,  here  are  the  rings  and  the  bridle-bits  which  I  fore- 
told would  be  brought  me — also,  the  two  steeds  which  the 
knight  I  spoke  of  has  sent,  their  riders  having  been  unhorsed 
in  the  stream."  The  king  recognized  the  horses  and  was 
covered  with  shame,  as  he  perceived  that  the  affair  which  he 
had  wished  to  keep  secret  was  known  to  the  queen. 


DE   ORTU   WALUUAN1I.  453 

[P.  427.]  After  a  while  Arthur  went  out  to  a  conference  with 
his  nobles  which  had  been  set  for  that  day.  Whilst  he  was 
before  the  palace,  sitting  under  an  ash,  the  Knight  of  the 
Surcoat  came  riding  up  to  the  gates  and  saluted  the  king  and 
queen  and  knights  around  them.  The  king,  recognizing  his 
adversary  of  the  night  before,  did  not  give  him  a  very  cordial 
greeting.  Nevertheless,  he  inquired  who  he  was,  where  he 
was  going,  and  what  object  he  had  in  that  country.  The 
newcomer  replied  that  he  was  a  Roman  knight  and  that  he 
had  come  to  aid  King  Arthur,  who  he  heard  was  in  need 
of  knights — finally,  that  he  also  brought  messages  from 
the  emperor.  He  presented  the  case  then  and  the  seals  to  the 
king,  who  withdrew  from  the  rest  and  had  the  letters  read  to 
him.  The  contents  of  the  documents,  together  with  the  evi- 
dence of  the  ring  and  cloak,  filled  Arthur  with  amazement 
and  he  could  hardly  believe  what  he  heard  for  joy.  But  it 
happened  that  Loth,  King  of  Norway,  and  Queen  Anna,  the 
parents  of  the  young  knight,  were  present,  and  when  ques- 
tioned by  Arthur  they  confessed  that  he  was,  indeed,  their 
son.  Arthur  was  filled  with  delight,  yet  he  determined  not 
to  reveal  the  young  man's  origin  to  him  until  he  had  dis- 
tinguished himself  by  some  great  action. 

Arthur  went  back  then  to  the  meeting  of  nobles,  and, 
having  called  up  the  young  man  before  the  whole  assemblage, 
in  slighting  language  rejected  his  offer  to  join  the  ranks  of 
the  royal  knights,  [p>428]  on  the  ground  that  he  had  as  yet  no 
proof  of  his  valor.  The  young  knight  was  exasperated  by 
the  reply,  but  he  feared  lest  it  might  be  ascribed  to  cowardice, 
if  he  now  turned  back,  so  he  again  begged  to  be  enrolled 
among  Arthur's  knights,  this  time  on  the  condition  that  he 
should  perform  alone  some  action  which  the  whole  of  King 
Arthur's  host  should  have  failed  to  perform.  On  this  condi- 
tion the  king  retained  him. 

Not  twelve  days  after  this  Arthur  was  compelled  to  set 
out  on  an  expedition  into  the  North  of  Britain.  There 
was  a  castle  there,  called  Maidens'  Castle,  the  mistress  of 


454  J.   D.   BRUCE. 

which  was  a  damsel,  famous  for  her  generosity  and  posses- 
sions, who  was  also  a  friend  of  King  Arthur's.  A  heathen 
king,  who  was  taken  with  the  beauty  of  this  lady,  but  had 
been  rejected  by  her,  besieged  her  in  her  town  and  was  now 
on  the  point  of  attempting  to  carry  the  castle  by  assault.  As 
the  damsel  felt  herself  incapable  of  offering  a  long  resistance, 
she  sent  in  haste  to  Arthur  for  aid,  l>429-]  who  at  once 
assembled  his  forces,  and,  having  got  everything  ready,  set 
out  to  her  rescue.  He  did  this,  however,  with  much  trepida- 
tion, for  in  all  previous  engagements  with  the  king  against 
whom  he  was  now  marching,  he  had  suffered  defeat.  Whilst 
he  was  on  the  way,  still  another  messenger  from  the  damsel 
hurried  to  meet  him  and  informed  him  that  the  castle  of  his 
mistress  had  already  been  captured,  and  the  damsel  herself 
carried  off  into  captivity.  She  implored  Arthur,  however, 
not  to  forget  her  in  her  adversity.  Arthur  then  pursued  the 
rear-guard  of  the  enemy  and  attacked  it,  expecting  to  find  it 
unprepared ;  but  the  best  troops  of  the  army  had  been  selected 
to  protect  the  retreat,  and  the  attack  was  repulsed.  In  this 
encounter  Arthur  and  his  host  came  near  destruction.  He 
ultimately  cut  his  way  through  the  enemy,  however,  and  took 
to  flight,  followed  by  his  men. 

In  the  beginning  of  the  conflict  the  Knight  of  the  Surcoat 
had  contented  himself  with  looking  on  from  a  high  point 
some  distance  off,  awaiting  the  result  of  the  battle,  but  in  the 
rout  that  followed,  he  met  Arthur  flying  among  the  foremost, 
and  smiling,  the  knight  asked  him  insultingly  whether  he  and 
his  men  were  driving  stags  or  hares,  that  they  were  hastening 
thus  scattered  through  the  by-ways.  Arthur  answered  indig- 
nantly :  "  I  have  now  sufficient  proof  of  your  valor,  when  I 
find  you  hiding  in  the  forest  whilst  others  are  engaged  in 
battle" — and  without  saying  more,  as  his  pursuers  were 
pressing  him,  he  passed  on.  The  knight  ridiculed  the  other 
fugitives  in  a  similar  manner,  but  fr-430-]  threw  himself  into 
the  midst  of  the  enemy's  host,  who  were  in  pursuit.  He 
swept  through  them  like  a  winter-storm,  only  wounding, 


DE  OBTU  WALUUANII.  455 

however,  those  who  opposed  him.  As  soon  as  the  knight 
came  near  to  the  king  of  the  host,  he  put  spurs  to  his  horse, 
assailed  the  king  violently  and  thrust  his  spear  through  his 
breast.  He  then  caught  the  reins  of  the  captive  damsel's 
horse,  and  began  to  make  his  way  back.  The  enemy,  in  turn, 
attacked  him  fiercely,  and  with  all  kinds  of  weapons,  as  he 
retreated,  but  he  continued  on  his  way,  fighting  all  the  while. 
Only  he  was  much  hampered  in  his  retreat  by  the  necessity 
of  defending  his  companion,  as  well  as  himself.  Not  far 
distant,  however,  was  a  ditch  which  marked  the  limits  of 
two  different  countries,  and  the  passage  left  here  was  so 
narrow  that  only  one  could  pass  over  at  a  time.  When  the 
knight  reached  this  line  he  placed  the  damsel  in  safety 
beyond  the  ditch,  bidding  her  wait  there,  whilst  he  returned 
to  meet  their  pursuers.  These  he  routed  so  utterly  that 
many  threw  themselves  headlong  from  high  rocks,  and  others 
drowned  themselves  in  the  rivers. 

[p.  431.]    rphe   kjjjgJrt  tnen  cut  Qff  tne  nea(J  Qf  the  kjng)   wnich 

was  crowned  with  a  diadem,  and  fixing  it  on  the  end  of  his 
banner,  which  he  held  aloft,  he  returned  to  Arthur,  the 
damsel  accompanying  him.  As  he  entered  the  palace  where 
Arthur  was  seated,  in  gloomy  meditation  over  his  defeat,  he 
presented  the  head  of  the  heathen  king  and  boasted  of  his 
having  alone  overthrown  a  man  who  had  put  so  many  of 
Arthur's  warriors  to  flight.  Finally,  he  asked  Arthur  whether 
he  was  now  worthy  to  be  his  knight.  King  Arthur,  recog- 
nizing the  head  of  the  person  who  was  of  all  men  most  hate- 
ful to  him,  and  at  the  same  time  the  damsel,  whom  he  loved, 
delivered  from  captivity,  replied  that  he  was,  indeed,  a  knight 
to  be  honored  and  rewarded.  The  king  next  made  inquiry 
of  the  knight  as  to  his  origin,  birth  and  name.  When  the 
latter  answered  that  he  was  the  son  of  a  Roman  senator  in 
Gaul,  that  he  was  brought  up  at  Rome  and  had  always  been 
called  the  Knight  of  the  Surcoat,  Arthur  declared  that  he 
was  mistaken  and  promised  to  enlighten  him  as  to  the  truth 
in  these  matters. 


456  J.    D.    BRUCE. 

He  had  the  parents  of  the  knight  summoned — namely, 
Loth,  King  of  Norway,  and  Anna,  his  wife — also,  he  had  the 
letters  brought  which  the  Emperor  sent,  and  they  were  read 
before  the  throng  of  people.  The  multitude  were  filled  with 
joy  at  the  disclosure  of  the  real  origin  of  the  knight.  King 
Arthur  then  made  a  public  acknowledgment  of  his  nephew, 
and  proclaimed  that  he  was  l>432-]  henceforth  to  be  called 
by  his  true  name,  Gawain.  When  Arthur  had  said  this, 
the  people  hailed  him  repeatedly,  with  the  cry  :  "Gawain,  the 
nephew  of  Arthur  ! " 

The  author  concludes  his  story  by  recommending  those 
who  desire  to  know  more  of  Gawain's  valorous  deeds  to  seek 
some  other  informant — at  the  same  time,  with  conscious 
pride  in  his  own  performance,  reminding  his  readers  that 
composing  a  story  in  a  finished  style  of  eloquence  (i.  e.,  in 
Latin)  is  a  very  different  matter  from  setting  it  forth  simply 
in  the  vulgar  tongue. 

J.  DOUGLAS  BRUCE. 


PUBLICATIONS 

OF  THE 

MODERN  LANGUAGE  ASSOCIATION  OF  AMERICA, 

1898. 
VOL.  XIII,  4.  NEW  SERIES,  VOL.  VI,  4. 


XIII.— THE  OLD  ENGLISH  VERSION  OF  THE 
GOSPEL  OF  NICODEMUS. 

INTRODUCTION. 
1.   Origin  and  Early  History  of  the  Gospel. 

The  story  of  the  Passion,  Resurrection,  and  Descent  of 
Christ  is  treated  at  length  in  one  of  the  most  interesting 
of  the  apocryphal  gospels.  While  it  is  based  upon  the  narra- 
tive as  given  in  the  canonical  books  of  the  New  Testament, 
many  additions  have  been  made  of  a  purely  fictitious  charac- 
ter,— especially  that  of  Christ's  descent  into  Hell  and  his 
releasing  the  souls  of  the  patriarchs  and  saints  who  had 
for  centuries  been  in  bondage  to  Satan.  The  real  origin  of 
this  legendary  story,  which  was  one  of  the  most  productive 
literary  sources  in  the  Middle  Ages,  is  clouded  in  obscurity. 
When  or  how  it  came  into  existence  has  never  been  defi- 
nitely determined.  In  the  prologue  to  both  the  Greek  and 
the  Latin  versions  of  the  story  we  are  informed  that  the 
Emperor  Theodosius  found  the  book  among  the  public  records 
in  the  Hall  of  Pilate  in  Jerusalem  (A.  D.  380) :  "  In  nomine 
sanctae  trinitatis  incipiunt  gesta  salvatoris  domini  nostri  lesu 
Christi,  inventa  Theodosio  Magno  imperatore  in  lerusalem 

457 


458  W.    H.    HULME. 

in  praetorio  Pontii  Pilati  in  codicibus  publicis  "  (Tischendorf, 
p.  312).  Moreover,  we  are  told  at  the  conclusion  of  Cap. 
xxvii  that  Pilate  himself  wrote  all  the  transactions  from  the 
relation  of  Nicodemus  and  Joseph :  "  Haec  audiens  Pilatus  tulit 
exempla  dicti  Leucii  et  Garini  a  JSFicodemo  et  losepe  tradita 
et  posuit  ea  in  publicis  codicibus  praetorii  sui "  (Tischendorf, 
p.  388).  We  are  further  informed  by  Epiphanius,  bishop  of 
Constantia  in  Cyprus,  who  flourished  at  the  close  of  the  fourth 
century,  that  the  Quartodecimans,  a  sect  which  originated  near 
the  close  of  the  third  century,  appealed  to  this  story  to  con- 
firm their  opinions  as  to  the  proper  time  of  keeping  Easter. 
At  this  time  and  throughout  the  early  centuries  of  the  Chris- 
tian era  the  story  was  known  by  the  title,  The  Acts  of  Pilate 
(Ada  Pilati).  These  Acts  of  Pilate  appear  in  fact  to  have  been 
known  much  earlier  than  the  fourth  century.  The  ancient 
Christian  apologists,  Justin  Martyr  and  Tertullian,  both 
appeal  to  the  Acts  of  Pilate  in  confirmation  of  the  miracles 
and  crucifixion  of  Christ  (cf.  J.  Martyr,  Apol.,  pp.  76,  84 ; 
Tertullius,  Apol.,  c.  21).  Epiphanius  (Opera,  pp.  259-275) 
also  gives  a  version  of  the  story  which  "agrees  in  many 
points  with"  the  Acts  of  Pilate  (cf.  Kirkland,  p.  17).  The 
cause  of  Christ's  Descent  is  there  stated  (p.  268)  to  be,  "  ut 
educat  eos  qui  a  saeculo  vincti  sunk" 

It  is  not  at  all  unlikely  that  the  earliest  version  of  the  first 
part  of  the  Acts,  which  treats  of  Christ's  passion  and  cruci- 
fixion, was  written  to  counteract  the  evil  influences  of  a 
heathen  treatise  with  the  same  title.  Eusebius  tells  us  that 
the  heathens  forged  certain  Acts  of  Pilate  full  of  all  sorts 
of  blasphemy  against  Christ,  which  they  (A.  D.  303)  had 
dispersed  throughout  the  Roman  empire ;  and  that  school- 
masters were  commanded  to  put  these  Acts  into  the  hands 
of  children  who  were  to  learn  them  by  heart  instead  of  their 
lessons.  As  the  Christian  Acts  of  Pilate  are  entirely  free  from 
anything  like  blasphemous  expressions  and  sentiments,  they 
cannot  therefore  be  identical  with  the  document  described  by 
Eusebius  (cf.  Biblical,  Theological,  and  Ecclesiastical  Encyclo- 


THE   OLD    ENGLISH    GOSPEL   OF   NICODEMUS.  459 

pedia,  vol.  in,  p.  940  f.).  From  the  fact  that  the  Acts  (Part 
II)  makes  frequent  mention  of  the  names  Leuthius  (Leuticus) 
and  Charintis,  it  was  thought  by  Jeremiah  Jones  (in  his  book 
On  the  Canon)  "to  have  been  the  work  of  the  celebrated 
fabricator  of  gospels,  Lucius  Charinus,  who  flourished  in  the 
beginning  of  the  fourth  century."  '  Beausobre  also  suspected 
that  the  latter  part  of  the  story  (the  descensus  ad  inferos)  was 
taken  from  the  Gospel  of  Peter. 

"  During  the  persecution  under  Maximin,"  says  Gieseler 
(Eccles.  Hist.,  vol.  i,  §  24,  note),  "the  heathens  first  brought 
forward  certain  calumnious  Acts  of  Pilate  (Eusebius,  IX,  5), 
to  which  the  Christians  opposed  others  (Epiphanius,  Haer., 
79,  §  1),  which  were  afterwards  in  various  ways  amended. 
One  of  these  improved  versions  was  afterwards  called  the 
Gospel  of  Nicodemus."  Thilo  ( Oodex  Apocryphus)  "thinks 
that  it  was  the  work  of  a  Jewish  Christian,  but  it  is  uncertain 
whether  it  was  originally  written  in  Hebrew,  Greek,  or  Latin. 
The  only  Greek  writer  who  cites  it  is  the  author  of  the  Synax- 
arion,  and  the  first  of  the  Latins  who  uses  it  is  the  celebrated 
Gregory  of  Tours"  (Hist.  Franc.,  I,  XXI,  xxiv).  The  Codex 
Parisensis  contains,  according  to  Thilo,  a  still  more  explicit 
account  of  how  a  certain  Hebrew  scholar,  named  Emaus, 
found  these  Acts  written  down  in  Hebrew  by  Nicodemus, 
and  how  this  same  scholar,  in  the  eighteenth  year  of  the 
reign  of  Theodosius  Flavius  and  Augustus  Valentinian,  trans- 
lated them  into  Greek.  This  entire  account  (as  given  by 
Tischendorf,  p.  313)  is  as  follows :  "  Ego  Emaus  Hebraeus 
qui  eram  legis  doctor  de  Hebraeis,  in  divinis  scripturis  per- 
scrutans,  divinitates  legis  script urarum  domini  nostri  lesu 
Christi  in  fide  praesumens,  dignatus  sacri  baptismatis  atque 
perquirens  quae  gesta  sunt  per  illud  tempus  quod  apposuerunt 
ludaei  sub  Pontio  praeside  Pilato,  haec  inveniens  gesta  et 
litteris  hebraeis  conscripta  a  Nicodemo,  quae  ego  interpre- 
tatus  litteris  graecis  ad  cognitionem  omnium  nomiuis  domini 
nostri  lesu  Christi,  sub  imperio  Flavii  Theodosii,  anno 
decimo  octavo,  et  Velentiniano  Augusto.  Omnes  autem  qui 


460  W.    H.    HULME. 

legitis  et  transfertis  in  aliis  codicibus  graecis  seu  latinis,  oro 
ut  dignemini  intercedere  pro  me  peccatore  ut  propitius  mihi 
fiat  et  dimittat  omnia  peccata  in  quibus  peccavi.  Pax  sit 
ista  legentibus,  sanitas  audientibus." 

An  interesting,  though  doubtless  untrustworthy,  account  of 
the  origin  of  the  Gospel  of  Nicodemus  is  found  in  the  preface 
to  a  translation  made  (1767)  by  Joseph  Wilson  (cf.  Ecdes. 
Encydop.)  :  "  It  befel  in  the  eighteenth  year  of  the  seigniory 
of  Herod  who  was  king  of  Galilee,  the  8th  kalend  of  April, 
which  is  the  25th  day  of  March,  the  fourth  year  of  the  son 
of  Vellum,  who  was  counsellor  of  Rome,  and  Olympias  had 
been  afore  two  hundred  years  and  two ;  at  this  time  Joseph 
and  Annas  were  lords  above  all  justices  of  peace,  mayors,  and 
Jews.  Nicodemus,  who  was  a  worthy  prince,  did  write  this 
blessed  history  in  Hebrew,  and  Theodosius  the  emperour  did 
translate  it  out  of  Hebrew  into  Latin,  and  bishop  Turpin 
did  translate  it  out  of  Latin  into  French,  and  hereafter  did 
ensue  the  blessed  history  called  the  Gospel  of  Nicodemus." 

The  critical  examination  of  all  the  known  sources  of  the 
story,  together  with  a  careful  comparison  of  the  Greek  and 
Latin  versions,  was  not  attempted  until  the  middle  of  the 
present  century.  Nevertheless,  the  legend  was  extremely 
popular  throughout  the  Middle  Ages,  as  well  as  far  into 
the  Renaissance  period.  This  fact  is  attested  on  the  one  hand 
by  the  important  part  which  the  Gospel  of  Nicodemus  played 
in  the  dramatic  and  romance  literature  of  the  western  world 
from  the  eleventh  to  the  fifteenth  century;  on  the  other  hand, 
by  the  appearance  of  printed  copies  of  the  Greek  and  Latin 
texts  early  in  the  sixteenth  century.  Several  of  these  earlier 
editions  bear  no  date,  but  one  of  them  has  the  imprint, 
Leipzig,  1516.  Then  numerous  Greek  and  Latin  MSS.  of 
the  piece  have  existed  since  early  in  the  Middle  Ages.  A 
more  careful  edition  of  the  story  was  published  by  Johann 
Albert  Fabricius,  Hamburg,  1703,  and  Johann  Karl  Thilo 
made  use  of  many  MSS.,  "  French,  German,  and  Italian,"  and 
of  several  published  editions  in  the  preparation  of  his  Codex 


THE   OLD    ENGLISH    GOSPEL   OP   NICODEMUS.  461 

Apocryphus  Novi  Testamenti,  etc.,  Leipzig,  1832.  In  1850  a 
Frenchman,  Alfred  Maury,  published  his  Nouvelles  recherches 
sur  I'epoque  a  laquelle  a  ete  compose  I'ouvrage  connu  sous  le 
nom  d'j&vangile  de  Nicodeme  (Extrait  du  XXs  volume  des 
Memoires  de  la  Socie'te'  des  Antiquaires  de  France,  Paris, 
1850).  A  final  thorough  edition  -of  both  Greek  and  Latin 
texts  was  made  by  Constantine  Tischendorf  in  1853  (Evan- 
gelia  apocrypha  adhibitis  plurimis  codicibus  Graecis  et  Latinis 
maximam  partem  nunc  primum  consultis  atque  ineditorum  copia 
insignibus  ed.  Constantinus  Tischendorf.  Lipsiae,  1853;  2nd 
ed.  Lipsiae,  1876).  In  the  Prolegomena  Tischendorf  gives  a 
concise  history  of  all  the  MSS.,  Greek  and  Latin,  as  well  as 
of  the  various  printed  texts,  which  he  used  in  preparing  his 
own  edition.  He  also  attempts  to  trace  the  legend  of  the 
Gospel  of  Nicodemus  back  to  its  origin,  to  account  for  the 
title,  Gospel  of  Nicodemus,  and  to  determine  the  exact  relation 
between  the  Greek  and  Latin  versions.  The  various  theories 
advanced  by  Tischendorf  relative  to  the  questions  of  origin, 
authorship,  and  name  of  the  Gospel  of  Nicodemus  have  been 
carefully  considered  and  for  the  most  part  refuted  by  Richard 
Adelbert  Lipsius  in  his  Die  Pilatus-Akten  kritisch  untersucht, 
Kiel,  1871;  2te  Ausgabe,  Kiel,  1886.  A  convenient  resume* 
of  Tischendorfs  conclusions  and  of  Lipsius's  refutation  of 
the  same  is  given  by  Wiilker  in  his  excellent  monograph, 
Das  Evangelium  Nicodemi  in  der  Abendldndischen  Literatur, 
Paderborn,  1872.  A  brief  statement  of  the  results  of  more 
recent  criticism  on  the  questions  of  authorship,  text  relation- 
ship, and  name  is  given  by  Gaston  Paris  and  Alphonse  Bos 
in  the  Introduction  (p.  II  f.)  to  their  Trois  Versions  Rimees  de 
L'~@vangile  de  Nicodeme  par  Chretien,  Andre  de  Coutances  et 
un  Anonyme.  Socie'te'  des  Anciens  Textes  Fran9ais.  Paris, 
1885-6.  This  summary  is  somewhat  as  follows :  The  Latin 
work  which  bears  the  name  Gospel  of  Nicodemus  was  trans- 
lated from  a  Greek  version,  apparently  about  the  end  of  the 
fifth  century.  The  Greek  version  was  formed  by  the  union 
of  two  originally  independent  works,  one  of  which  contains 


462  W.    H.   HULME. 

an  account  of  Christ's  passion  and  resurrection,  and  which, 
the  Jews  claimed,  supplements  and  completes  the  narrative 
of  the  canonical  gospels.  This  is  properly  speaking  the 
Gospel  of  Nieodemus.  The  other  work  relates  the  story  of 
Christ's  descent  into  hades,  his  victory  over  Hell  and  Satan, 
and  his  deliverance  of  the  captive  souls  confined  by  them. 
The  first  part,  although  it  contains  certain  interesting  facts 
for  the  history  of  the  development  of  Christian  thought,  is  on 
the  whole  dull  and  prosaic.  The  second  part  is,  however, 
infused  with  a  spirit  of  real  poetry.  According  to  Lipsius, 
who  refutes  entirely  the  contrary  opinion  of  Tischendorf,  the 
second  part  is  based  on  a  Gnostic  treatise  of  the  first  half  of 
the  third  century.  The  Greek  form,  however,  is  not  older 
than  the  middle  of  the  fourth  century.  The  first  part  was 
composed  in  Greek  a  little  before  the  same  period.  In  the 
year  425  a  certain  Ananias  or  Aeneas  combined  the  two  parts 
into  a  whole,  but  not  without  changing  the  conclusion  of  the 
first  and  the  beginning  of  the  second  part,  so  as  to  make 
the  two  fit  together.  The  Latin  translation  of  this  com- 
pilation has  the  letter  of  Pilate  to  Tiberius  appended  in  all 
the  MSS.  This  letter  is  not  found  in  the  Greek  and  was 
undoubtedly  originally  composed  in  Latin. 

The  title,  Gospel  of  Nicodemus,  is  apparently  of  much  later 
date,  and  probably  originated  during  the  reign  of  Charlemagne. 

2.    The  Gospel  of  Nicodemus  in  England. 

The  early  Latin  writers  of  England  were  apparently 
familiar  with  the  story  of  the  Gospel  of  Nicodemus.  Bede 
speaks  of  it  as  forming  a  part  of  the  Christian  faith.  The 
subject  is  also  alluded  to  by  Aldhelm  in  his  poem,  De  laudi- 
bus  virginum.  "  Several  poems  on  the  same  subject "  are 
found  among  the  writings  of  Joannes  Scotus  Erigena,  one  of 
which  is  entitled  Christi  descensus  ad  inferos  et  resurrectio, 
and  which,  though  short,  follows  in  the  main  the  story  as 
given  in  the  Gospel  of  Nicodemus. 


THE   OLD    ENGLISH   GOSPEL   OF    NICODEMUS.  463 

The  Old  English  poem,  known  as  the  Harrowing  of  Hell 
(Grein's  HdllenfaJirt  Christi),  was  undoubtedly  based  on  the 
second  part  of  the  Gospel  of  Nicodemus,  though  it  differs 
somewhat  from  the  original  in  its  treatment  of  the  details 
(cf.  Kirkland,  p.  19  f.).  The  description  of  the  Descent  is 
also  given  in  Cynewulf s  Christ  according  to  the  Nicodemus 
version,  and  the  author  of  the  Christ  and  Satan  (MS.  Junius, 
xi)  made  use  of  the  same  legendary  story  in  the  composition 
of  his  poem. 

The  first  and  only  Old  English  prose  version  of  the  story, 
that  has  come  down  to  us,  is  preserved  in  two  MSS.  of  the 
eleventh  century.  This  version  is  a  rather  free  translation 
of  the  Latin  text  preserved  in  the  group  of  MSS.  designated 
by  Tischendorf  Z>abo  (i.  e.,  Da  =  text  of  Fabricius ;  Db  = 
Codex  Einsidlensis,  written  before  the  10th  century;  D° 
=  Codex  bibliothecae  principis  Corsini,  cf.  Tisch.,  JEvang. 
Apoc.  Proleg.,  p.  71  ff.).  There  are,  however,  many  details 
which  the  Old  English  translator  could  have  obtained  only 
from  the  editio  princeps,  so-called  by  Tischendorf  ("editionem 
principem  quae  apud  Lud.  Hain  in  E-epertor.  bibliogr.  num. 
11749  notatam,"  Proleg.,  p.  74).  So  it  is  quite  probable  that 
the  translator  had  a  MS.  before  him  upon  which  the  editio 
princeps  as  well  as  the  Dabc  texts  were  based. 

Of  the  two  versions  of  the  story  as  published  by  Tischen- 
dorf ( A  and  B  in  Greek ;  A  and  B  of  the  Pars  II,  Latin)  the 
Old  English  follows  the  version  A  throughout.  Moreover, 
the  ABC  MSS.,  which  Tischendorf  follows  generally  in  the 
first  part  of  the  Latin  text,  do  not  differ  substantially  from 
the  Dabo  MSS.  ;  though  the  language  and  style  of  the  two 
series  show  by  no  means  infrequent  minor  differences.  Thus 
many  details  of  the  Old  English  translation  can  be  explained 
only  by  reference  to  the  Dabc  variant  readings  in  the  foot-notes 
to  Tischendorf's  text. 

As  compared  with  the  Latin,  the  Old  English  has  numerous 
omissions,  some  important  and  extensive,  others  of  compara- 
tive insignificance.  The  Old  English  also  makes  numerous 


464  W.    H.    HULME. 

additions  of  individual  words,  clauses,  and  even  sentences  to 
the  original ;  and  now  and  then  lengthy  paragraphs  of  the 
Latin  are  compressed  into  one  or  two  rather  short  sentences 
in  the  Old  English  (see  Notes  for  a  word  for  word  compari- 
son of  two  versions). 

3.    The  Manuscripts  and  Editions  of  the  Old  English 
Version. 

As  was  stated  above,  there  are  two  MSS.  known  of  the  Old 
English  version  of  the  Gospel  of  Nicodemus:  (1)  The  Cam- 
bridge University  Library  MS.  (li.  n.  11).  (2)  Ms.  Cotton. 
Vitelius  A.  15  in  the  British  Museum.  For  convenience 
sake  these  MSS.  may  be  designated  A  and  B  respectively.  A 
transcript  of  the  Cambr.  MS.  (A)  was  made  by  Franciscus 
Junius,  which  he  also  collated  and  compared  with  the  Cotton 
MS.  (B).  This  transcript  of  Junius  is  preserved  in  the 
Bodleian  library  at  Oxford  (Jun.,  74,  i). 

In  addition  to  the  above  mentioned  MSS.  a  sort  of  resume" 
of  the  contents  of  the  Gospel  of  Nicodemus,  i.  e.,  of  Part  II, 
is  found  in  the  Cotton  MS.  Vespasian  D  14  (fol.  87b-100a 
incl.)  in  the  form  of  a  homily  by  Aelfric,  and  having  the 
title  De  Resurrectioni  Domini. 

The  Cambr.  MS.  is  excellently  preserved  in  the  same  Codex 
with  Aelfric's  translation  of  the  four  gospels  and  a  shorter 
piece,  The  Embassy  of  Nathan  the  Jew  to  Tiberius  Caesar,  better 
known  as  the  Legend  of  St.  Veronica.  The  Gospel  of  Nicode- 
mus,  which  begins  with  p.  344,  is  written  in  a  bold  large 
hand  of  the  eleventh  century,  twenty-three  lines  to  a  page. 
It  is  written  with  extreme  care,  and  there  is  a  uniformity 
in  the  use  of  word  forms,  such  as  I  have  observed  in  no 
other  Old  English  MS.  The  earliest  mention  of  the  MS. 
is  in  Thwaites  edition  of  it  which  appeared  in  1698  :  Hepta- 
teuchus,  Liber  Job,  et  Evangelium  Nicodemi;  Anglo- Saxonice. 
Historiae  Judith  Fragmentum;  Dano-Saxonice.  Edidit  nunc 
primum  ex  MSS.  Codicibus  Edwardus  Thwaites.  Oxouiae, 


THE   OLD    ENGLISH    GOSPEL   OF   NICODEMUS.  465 

1698."  Thwaites  evidently  did  not  see  either  of  the  original 
MSS.  while  preparing  his  edition,  but  followed  exactly  the 
transcript  made  by  Junius.  In  the  preface  of  his  book  he 
says  to  the  Reader:  "Evangelium  Nicodemi,  ad  exemplar  D. 
Junii,  ex  bibliotheca  Benedictina  apud  Cantabrigiensis  de- 
promptum ;  cui  ad  oram  adscripsit  rl.  Junius  alterius  cujusdam 
MS.  codicis  lectiones  variantes.  Hoc  nimirum  pseudo-evange- 
lium,  primum  Gra3ce  conscripturn,  postea  Latine  redditum,  a 
viro  quopiam  docto  ex  Latino  Auglo-Saxonicum  factum,  cum 
a  celeberrimo  Junio  in  praelum  paratum  foret,  tibi  haud 
invidendum  duxirnus."  Then  on  the  last  page,  which  con- 
tains the  variant  readings  of  the  Cotton  MS.,  Thwaites 
adds:  "Variantes  Lectiones  Nicodemi,  collectae  ex  margine 
Apographi  Juniani.  Hoc  nimirum  Evangelium  ex  codice 
MS.  Bibliothecae  publicae  Cantabrigiensis  descripsit,  et  cum 
alio  codice  Bibliothecae  Cottonianae  contulit  magnum  illud 
Linguae  Anglo-Saxonicae  oraculum  Franciscus  Junius  F.  F." 

It  is  evident,  therefore,  that  Thwaites'  edition  was  nothing 
more  than  a  reprint  of  the  transcript  made  by  Junius ;  and 
naturally  the  mistakes  of  Junius  are  given  in  the  reprint 
with  the  additional  ones  of  Thwaites  himself.  No  critical 
edition  of  this  MS.  has  thus  far  appeared.  Olrichs'  Angelsdch- 
ische  Chrestomathie  (1798)  reprints  Cap.  xxxn  of  Thwaites' 
text  along  with  a  German  translation  of  the  same  (cf.  Wiilker, 
Grundriss,  p.  497),  and  Part  II  appears  as  selection  xix  in 
Bright's  Anglo-Saxon  Reader  (1894);  in  this  instance  the 
text  is  critically  based  upon  the  Cambridge  MS.,  and  selected 
variants  are  supplied  from  the  Cotton  MS. 

One  other  point  of  Thwaites'  preface  is  worthy  of  a  pass- 
ing notice,  viz. :  "  Hoc  nimirum  pseudo-evangelium,  primum 
Graece  conscriptum,  postea  Latine  redditum,  a  viro  quopiam 
docto  ex  Latino  Anglo-Saxonicuni  factum."  This  is,  so  far 
as  I  know,  the  only  (very  indefinite)  statement  made  any- 
where as  to  the  authorship  of  the  Old  English  version.  And 
Thwaites  seems  to  have  had  no  idea  who  the  viro  quopiam 
docto  was. 


466  W.    H.   HULME. 

The  next  reference  to  the  MSS.  of  Nicodemus  is  found  in 
Wanley's  Catalogue,  which  appeared  as  vol.  in  of  Hickes' 
Thesaurus,  in  the  year  1705.  Here  (p.  152)  a  brief  descrip- 
tion of  the  Cambr.  Codex,  li.  n,  11  is  given:  "Cod.  membr. 
in  fol.  min.  circa  tempus  Conquisitionis  Angliae  scriptus." 
Wanley  also  gives  (p.  344)  the  full  title  of  the  piece,  the 
Old  English  prologue,  and  certain  data  relative  to  Thwaites' 
edition :  "  Gesta  Salvatoris  nostre,  sive  Pseudo-Evangelium 
Nichodemi.  .  .  .  Hunc  Tractatura  ex  hoc.  Cod.  descripsit 
Cl.  Junius,  quern  deinde  cum  exemplari  Cottoniano  contulit. 
Tanden  vero,  sc.  A.  D.  1699,  Apographum  Junianum  Oxoniae 
Edidit,  cum  variantibus  Cottoniani  Cod.  Lectionibus,  ad  cal- 
cem  Heptateuchi,  amicus  noster  Edwardus  Thwaitesius  Coll. 
Reg.  Soc." 

Wanley  speaks  at  length  of  the  history  of  the  Cambridge 
MS.  in  his  description  of  the  Bodleian  MS.,  Jun.,  74,  I 
(CataL,  p.  96):  "Pseudo-Evangelium  Nicodemi,  a  cl.  Junio 
e  Codice  MS.  Bibliothecae  Publicae  Cantabrigiensis  descrip- 
tum,  et  postea  potissima  ex  parte,  collatum  cum  Cod.  Cott. 
qui  inscribitur  Vitel.  A.  15.  Nicodemum  saepuiscule  Latine 
editum  ex  hoc  Apographo  Saxonico  publici  juris  fecit,  una 
cum  Heptateucho,  Edwardus  Thwaites  Oxoniae  1699.  Ununi 
autem,  ut  levioris  momenti,  lectorem  velim  monitum,  nempe, 
ut  in  memorati  viri  Praefatione  libro  suo  praemissa,  loco 
horum  verborum,  Evangelium  Nicodemi,  ad  exemplar  D. 
Junii  ex  bibliotheca  Publica,  etc.  ne  quis  putet  Reverendos 
et  Doctissimos  Viros  Magistrum  et  Socios  Collegii  Corporis 
Christi,  quod  vulgo  Benedict!  audit,  librum  quenquam  eis  ab 
eximio  suo  Benefactore  donatum,  e  Bibliotheca  per  incuriam 
amicisse ;  aut  me,  cum  ab  eis  mihi  humanissime  fuerit  facta 
bibliothecam  lustrandi  copia,  culpabili  negligentia  ullum  codi- 
cem  Saxonice  manuscriptum  silentio  praeteriisse." 

We  are  told  on  a  fly  leaf  in  the  beginning  of  the  Cambr. 
codex  that  it  was  presented  to  the  Cathedral  church  at  Exeter 
by  bishop  Leofric,  and  in  the  Cambridge  University  Library 
Catalogue  of  MSS.,  vol.  in,  p.  384,  we  are  informed  that  the 


THE   OLD   ENGLISH   GOSPEL   OF   NICODEMUS.  467 

codex  was  presented  by  archbishop  Parker  to  the  University 
of  Cambridge  in  1574. 

The  other  MS.  of  the  Gospel  of  Nicodemus  is  preserved  in  a 
fragmentary  condition  (i.  e.,  about  two  pages  have  been  lost 
from  the  beginning  of  the  text)  in  the  well  known  Codex, 
Vitelius  A,  xv,  in  the  Cotton,  collection  of  the  British 
Museum.  The  text  of  our  piece  is  included  in  the  folios 
57a— 83b  (according  to  more  recent  pagination,  fol.  60a-86b). 
The  first  three  pages  of  the  MS.  were  considerably  injured  by 
the  disastrous  fire  which  played  such  havoc  with  the  Cotton 
library  early  in  the  eighteenth  century.  It  is,  therefore, 
impossible  to  determine  the  correct  reading  in  several  places 
on  the  margins  of  these  three  pages.  Otherwise  the  MS.  is 
written  in  a  fine,  large,  clear  hand  of  the  eleventh  century, 
eighteen  lines  to  a  page.  Both  language  and  hand  bear  a 
striking  similarity  to  those  of  Alfred's  version  of  St.  Augus- 
tine's Soliloquies,  which  is  preserved  in  the  same  codex.  The 
hand  is  quite  as  old  in  appearance  as  that  of  the  Cambridge 
MS.,  but  the  word  forms  have  a  very  different  and  much  later 
character.  There  is  nothing  like  the  uniformity  in  using 
the  same  forms  of  words  from  beginning  to  end  as  in  the 
Cambridge  MS.  The  Cotton  MS.  also  has  numerous  traces 
of  the  leveling  tendency  of  the  Old  English  of  the  transition 
period.  From  these  considerations  I  am  inclined  to  think 
that  B  is  a  much  later  copy  of  the  original  than  A,  or  even 
a  later  copy  of  A  itself. 

4.    The  use  of  ]>  and  $  in  MS.  A. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  features  of  the  uniformity  in 
the  use  of  forms  in  the  Cambridge  MS.  is  the  sharp  distinc- 
tion between  }>  and  ft.'  This  is  one  of  the  few  Old  English 
MSS.  which  have  come  down  to  us,  in  which  |?  is  used  initially, 
%  medially  and  finally,  throughout.  There  are  only  two  or 
three  instances  of  final  J>,  and  four  or  five  of  medial  J>.  And 
although  ft  occurs  more  frequently  in  the  initial  position 


468  W.    H.    HULME. 

than  J>  medially  or  finally,  its  more  frequent  occurrence  seems 
to  be  due  to  phonetic  causes.  In  the  relative  sefte,  J?  appears 
only  once  in  this  MS.,  and  the  %  is  here  doubtless  considered 
a  medial.  Likewise  the  capital  D  occurs  rather  frequently  in 
an  introductory  Da,  but  %  never  occurs  in  this  word  unless 
it  be  preceded  by  a  monosyllable  beginning  with  ]>.  More- 
over, |?  appears  much  more  frequently  in  introductory  ]>a  than 
D.  Peculiar  conditions  exist  where  monosyllables  beginning 
with  J?  precede  words  which  should  (according  to  the  usage  of 
this  MS.)  begin  with  ]>.  ^-monosyllables  ending  in  a  vowel 
are  for  the  most  part  followed  by  3-words.  The  MS.  sign  for 
\oek)  viz.,  •)?  is  always  followed  by  ft- words,  whether  mono- 
syllabic or  not  (the  only  exceptions  that  I  have  noted  are 
•p  \<ES  and  the  combination  ]>urh  ty  \e,  %>u  ]>yne).  If  the 
preceding  J;-word  ends  in  a  consonant,  we  find  sometimes  J>, 
sometimes  %  in  the  following  word,  if  the  consonant  is  a 
liquid  or  nasal;  but  always  f>,  if  the  final  consonant  is  of 
a  guttural  character. 

The  following  tabulated  list  of  words  will  better  illustrate 
the  foregoing  statements : 

1.  J?  medially :  eorlpan  (once),  Swy]>e  (once),  oferswy]>ed  (once), 

wy]>ersacan  (once).  Moreover,  |?  is  always  used  after 
the  prefixes  be-,  ge-,  under- :  be]>ohton  (once),  ge\<mc 
(twice),  gelpeaht  (twice),  under]>eod  (once). 

2.  J?  finally :  so]>  (once),  wyllcfy  (once). 

3.  ]>a  is  followed  36  times  by  $-words:  $a  (18),  $e  (7),  %us 

(5),  %am  (2),  %ing  (2),  Kcene  (1),  Kys  (1) ;  and  9  times 
by  );-words:  \one  (3),  \yng  (2),  \ry  (2),  J>ces  (1), 
\us  (1). 

4.  ]>e  is  followed  22  times  by  ft-words :  %cer  (7),  %u  (6),  %oes 

(4),  ftone  (2),  fta  (1),  ftyn  (1),  ftohton  (1) ;  and  3  times 
by  }>-words  :  ]?cer  (1),  \one  (1),  ]>yder  (1). 

5.  jw  is  followed  10  times  by  Se,  3  times  by  J?e,  and  once 

by  ]>yne. 

6.  \>am  (mostly  for-fyam-fte)  is  followed  13  times  by  iSe,  7 

times  by  J>e,  and  twice  by  ]>a. 


THE   OLD   ENGLISH   GOSPEL   OF   NICODEMTJS.  469 

7.  Jwr,  ]>ar  is  followed  3  times  by  J>cer,  twice  by  J>a,  and 

once  each  by  ¥>a  and  %cer. 

8.  ]>cet  (f)  is  followed  36  times  by  $-words :  %u  (25),  iSa 

(3),  *ajr  (2),  «arf  (2),  «e  (1),  «yn  (1),  3wr/i  (1),  Kencan 
(1) ;  and  once  by  J>-words  (the  above  mentioned  case 
excepted) :  ]>ces  (1). 

9.  ]>urh  is  followed  7  times  by  ]?-words  :  ]>yn(ne)  (3),  \a,  (1), 

J^re  (1),  \<n  (1),  ]>arf  (1). 
10.    }>eah  followed  once  by  \a. 

Besides  these  instances,  introductory  \a  occurs  upwards 
of  30  times,  Da  about  12  times,  fta  stands  alone 
(i.  e.,  not  preceded  by  ]?-monosyllable)  in  the  sentence 
4  times,  $e  5  times  (this  is  pron.  Se),  %u  5  times 
(four  of  which  are  found  in  the  combination  la  $M), 
'Sam  twice,  8<me  and  f)ys  once  each. 

Dissyllables  beginning  with  ]>  have  no  influence  upon 
the  following  word  beginning  with  same  sound. 
The  following  examples  occur :  \one  \e  (4),  ]>onne 
]>u  (1),  ]>cere  ]>e  (1),  ]>cere  ]>eostra  (1),  \ynnum  \eowwm 
(1).  \ing  \e  (2)  and  \as  ]>yng  \e  (1)  really  fall  under 
No.  9  above. 

From  the  foregoing  data  it  will  be  seen  that  ft  occurs 
initially  only  in  pronominal  words  (fting,  ftencan,  ftohton 
excepted),  and  that  all  these  $-words  immediately  follow  a 
^-monosyllable, — except  $a  (4),  %e  (5),  %u  (5),  'Sam  (2),  ftone 
(1),  D?/s  (1),  making  eighteen  altogether.  Moreover,  vocalic 
J>-words  are  followed  68  times  by  -S-words,  and  14  times  by 
]?-words,  of  which  latter  6  are  dissyllables  and  two  nouns 
ending  in  long  consonants.  Of  the  J?-words  ending  in  a  con- 
sonant, fy  is  followed  by  36  3-words,  and  once  by  a  J?-word ; 
other  monosyllables  ending  in  a  consonant  are  followed  15 
times  by  $-words,  and  24  times  by  l^-words.  These  data 
almost  force  the  conclusion  that  the  writer  of  the  Cambridge 
MS.  recognized  some  difference  in  the  sound  quality  of  ]?  and 
•S.  This  same  distinction  in  the  use  of  }>  and  %  is  observed 


470  W.    H.    HULME. 

throughout  the  Cambridge  MS.  of  the  Embassy  of  Nathan  to 
Tiberius  Caesar,  which  piece  is  found  in  the  same  codex  with, 
and  immediately  following,  the  Gospel  of  Nicodemus.  Both 
pieces,  as  they  exist  in  this  MS.,  were  undoubtedly  copied  by 
the  same  scribe. 

In  the  following  texts  the  aim  has  been  to  give  a  diplo- 
matic reprint  of  the  original  MSS.,  in  parallel  pages,  with  as 
little  comment  as  possible,  so  that  anyone  who  is  interested 
in  this  important  monument  of  Old  English  prose  may  have 
easy  access  to  both  MS.  versions. 

A  word  for  word  comparison  of  the  Latin  original  from 
the  MSS.  Dabcj  edpr.  (as  given  in  the  foot-notes  to  Tischendorf's 
text)  and  the  Old  English  version  of  MS.  A.  will  be  found  in 
the  notes  following  the  text. 


THE   OLD   ENGLISH   GOSPEL  OF  NICODEMUS.  471 

EVANGELIUM  NICODEMI. 

[Camb.  Univ.  Lib.  MS.  li.  ii,  11.] 

[*P.  1.]  On  j?sere  halgan  J;rynnysse  naman  her  ongyn|na^S  J>a  gedonan 
)?yng  )?e  be  urum  hselende  gejdone  wseron.  call  swa  )?eodo- 
sius  se  msera  casere  |  hyt  funde  on  hierusalem  on  J^ses  pontiscan 
Pilates  |  doraerne.  call  swa  hyt  nychodemus  awrat.  call  |  myd 

5  ebreiscum  stafum  on  manegum  bocuw  ]ms  |  awry  ten. 

Hyt  gelamp  to  softon  on  |?am  nygonteoiSan  geare  |  J>e  tyberius 
se  mycla  casere  hsefde  an  weald  ofer  |  call  romana  rice.  3  hym 
waes  undercyning  hejrodes  J>ses  galileiscan  cyninges  sunn.  ]?e 
wses  eac  |  herodes  haten.  J?a  on  j?am  nygonteoftan  geare  heora 

10  ealdordomes.  on.  vm.  kl.  aprl.  •p  ys.  se  fif  3  twen|tugo3an 
daeg  J>a3s  monies  martii.  ]?a  wses  •p  seo  unjgesselignys  bec6?7i 
on  •p  iudeisce  folc.  ^  hig  );one  |  hselend  gefengon.  y  on  rode 
ahengon.  swa  swa  j  hyne  iudas  hys  agen  cnyht  bela3wde.  |?a 
yldestan  |  iudeas.  J>e  ^ser  set  wa3ron.  waeron  ]?us  genemned.  | 

15  Annas.    3  caiphas.    surarae.    ^  da^San.    Gamaliel.  |    y  iadas. 

levi.    3   neptalira.     alexander.    3   syrus.    y  swySe  |  manege 

o^re  eodon  to  pilate.    3  J?one  haelend  wreg'.don.    y  s&don  for 

manegum  yfelum  da3dum.    ^  he  ne  |  wear^  nsefre  nane  wyr- 

[*P.  2.]   cende.    3  hig  }>eh  ]>us  cwsejdon.*    pysne   geongan   man  we 

20  cunnon.  ^j  we  -p  wyton  |  f  he  wses  ]>ses  wyrhtan  sunu  iosepes. 
y  marian.  nu  seg^S  he  •p  he  godes  sunu  sig.  3  eac  he  segft 
^  he  sylf  cy|ning  sig.  y  eac  selcne  restedaBg  gewe^S.  y  ure 
f8eder,lican.  &.  towyrp-S.  Pilatus  hym  ^swarode  *j  cwo^S. 
hwa3t  |  ys  -p  he  deft  $  he  msege  ure.  £.  towerpan.  J?a  iudeas  | 

25  hym  -jswaredon  -3  cwa3don.  hyt  ys  on  ure.  £.  forbojden  ^ 
man  ne  mot  nan  J?ing  gehselan  on  reste  dagum.  |  );eh  hyt  lama 
beo,  riu  haBl^S  he  );es  man  aegSer  ge  healte.  ge  blynde.  ge 
deafe.  ge  dumbe.  ge  gebygede  lamau.  ^  deofolseoce.  Swylce 
yfele  dseda  he  dei5.  3  on  J?am  ealdre  beelzebube.  he  ];a 

30  deofelseocnyssa  ut  adryfeft.  Pilatus  heom  ^swarode  ^  cwceS. 
ne  by^  na  *p  on  unclsenum  gaste  •p  he  deofelseocnyssa  ut 
adryjfe.  ac  byiS  on  godes  msegne.  Da  iudeas  hym  ]?a  to  | 
cwsedon.  La  we  byddaft  ]>e  for  );ynre  meerSe.  "p  ]>u  \  hate 


472  W.    H.    HULME. 

[Camb.  Univ.  Lib.  MS.  li.  ii,  11.] 

hyne  curaan  hyder  to  foran  ]?ynum  domsetle.  j    3  hlyst  hys 

worda.    Pilatus  ba  swa  dyde.    het  geclypian  |  hys  senne  rynel. 

•j  hym  to  cwceft.    myd  gewyssum  gesce~a|de  yrn  3  clypa  hyder 

to  me  bone  be  ys  ihs  genem|ned.    se  rynel  )>a  swa  dyde.    y 

5  myd  mycelum  ofste  WSDS  j  forS  yrnende.    3  bone  hselend  geme- 

tende.    3    hyne    geeaiSmedende.    ^    he   ba   sona   on   eorSan 

[*P.  3.]  astrehte  |  *  f  he  on  handa  bser.    -p  wses  hraegeles  sum  dsel.    y 

hym  |  sylf  f>ar  wyft  feoll  on  eorSan  astreht.    3  cwceft.    La  | 

hlaford'.    se  derna  be  het  clypian  ty  iSu  sceoldest  j  in  to  hym 

10  gan.  Ac  se  hselend  hym  ]>a  gyt  ne  andjswarode.  ^  eac  J>a 
iudeas  gesavvon  hu  se  rynel  hsefde  |  geeadmet  to  J?am  haBlende. 
3  clypodon  to  pilate.  |  ^  cwsedon.  hete  J?u  );ynne  bydel.  ^ 
)?yune  rynel.  |  hym  swa  ongean  cuman.  y  hym  sceolde  ge- 
ea'Slmedan.  y  hig  sona  ]>&  call  atealdon  •))  hig  be  );am  |  rynele 

15  gesawon.  Pilatus  hym  het  J>a  3a3ne  rynel  |  to  geclypian.  y  hyne 
sona  acsode  for  hwig  he  |  swa  dyde.  Se  rynel  hym  •jswarode  3 
cwce'S.  pa  'Sa  J>u  |  asendest  me  to  hierusalem  to  alexandre  cyn- 
inge.  |  J>a  geseah  ic  hwser  se  haelend  sset  on  uppan  anum  |  assan. 
•3  ]?a  hebreiscan  cnyhtas  hsefdon  palmtwygu  |  on  heora  handum. 

20  1)  sume  heora  ref.   ,^  strehton  |  ba  ref.    3  streowedon  ba  palm- 
twygu on  ba3re  e6r|ban.    to  foran  bam  ha3lende.    j  cwa3don 
ealle  anre  |  stefne.    Osanna  benedictus  qui  uenit  in  nomine 
domim.    ba  iudeas  ba  cwaBdon  to  bam  rynele.    ba  cnyhtas  | 
wseron  hebreisce.    ba  sprsecon  hig  eac  on  ebreisc.  |    ^  hwanone 

25  sceoldest  bu  specan  on  hebreisc.    j  eart  |  be  sylf  grecisc.    se 

[*P.  4.]   rynel  heom  jswarode  "j  cwce^.    Ic  acsode  |  sumne  hebreiscne 

hwset  hig  sa3don.    "3   he  hyt  me  sona  |  eall  gebycnode.    Da 

cwce$  pilatus.    hu  clypedon  hig.  |    ^  hu  by'S  hyt  getrahtnod 

on  hebreisc.    Se  rynel  hym  |  ^swarode  ^  cwceft.    hig  cwsedon. 

30  La  dryhten  beo  bu  hal.  |  3  sig  gebletsod  se  iSe  on  dryhtnes 
naman  com.  y  gejhsel  us  bu  ^e  on  hehnysse  eart.  Da  cwc^S 
pilatus  to  }>am  iudeum.  nu  ge  magon  eac  beon  gewytnysse 
hwset  |  ba  cnyhtas  cwsedon.  hwset  hsefS  bes  rynel  gesingod.  | 
Hig  suwedon  ^  ne  cu'Son  nane  ^sware  syllan.  Da  cwoe^  |  se 

35  dema  eft  to  bam  rynele.     Far  3  swa  hwar  swa  bu  |  hyne 


THE   OLD    ENGLISH    GOSPEL   OF   NICODEMUS.  473 

[Cotton  MS.  Vitelius  A.  15.] 

[*Fol.  57a.]  hyne  *  ciime^S  hyder  to  foran  pinura  domsetle.  |  ^  hlyst  hys 
worda  pilatws  pa  swa  dyde  het  |  geclypian  hys  senne  rinel  "j 
hym  to  cwset  myd  gewyssum  gesceade  yrn  ^  clypa  hy|der 
to  me  pone  iSeuwa  iessus  genemned.  $e  |  rynel  3a  swa  dyde 
5  [~j]  myd  micelum  ofste  wses  |  ford  yrnnende  "j  pone  helend 
gemetende  |  y  hyne  geeaiSmedende  "j  he  pa  sona  on  eor|pa 
astrehte  •p  he  on  handa  bser  •p  wa?s  hra3|gles  sum  deel  "j 
him  sylf  pa3r  wyS  feoll  on  |  eorSan  astreht  ^  cwceS.1  La 
hlaford  se  dema  |  pe  het  clypian  *p  *Su  sceoldest  in  to  hym 

10  gan  |.     Ac   se  helend  hym  pa   git  ne  ^swarode  3   seac    pa 

iudeas  gesawon   hti  pe  rinel  hyne  hsefot  |  geeadmed  to  pam 

helende.    ^  clypedon  to  |  pylate  ^  cwedon.     Hete  pu  Sinne 

bydel  |  "j  pynne  rinel  hym  swa  6ngean  cuman  |  ^  hyn  sceolde 

[*Fol.  57b.]  geeadmedau.     ^    hyg   sona   pa  *  |  [eall   atealdon] 2   -p    hyg 

15  beo  'Sam  rinele  |  gesawon.  Pilatus  hym  het  pa  pa3ne  | 
....  pa  rinel  to  geclypian.  "j  hine  sona  [acsode]  |  for 
hwig  he  swa  dide.  Se  rinel  hym  "jswarode  j  3  cwo^S.  Da 
$u  asendest  me  to  hierusalem  ^  |  to  alexandre  cyninge  'Sa 
geseah  ic  hwer  se  helend  sa3t  on  uppan  anum  assan  ^  pa 

20  he|breisca  cniht[as]  haBfedon  palmtwige  on  |  heora  handa.  ^ 
sume  heora  reaf  streh|ton  ^a  reaf  3  strewedon  pa  palrn- 
twigu  |  on  iSare  eoriSan  to  foran  'Sam  helende  3  cwa3don 
ealle  anre  stefene.  Ossanria  bene|dictus  qui  uenit  in  nomine 
domini.  Da  iujdeas  ^a  cwedon  to  Sam  rinele.  $a  cnihtas  | 

25  weron  hebreisce  ^a  specon  hyg  eac  on  |  ebreisc  3  hwanone 
seoldest.  ftu  specan  |  on  hebreisc  ^  eart  pe3  $u  sylf  grecisc. 
[*Fol.  58a.]  Se4  [  rinel  heom  ^swarode  ^  cwce^S  Tc  ahsode  sumne  *  |  hebreiscne 
hwaBt  hyg  sedon.  ^  he  hyt  me  p[a]  |  sona  eall  gebycnode. 
Da  cwa3t  pilatus.  |  Hu  clypedon  hyg  3  hu  byt  hyt  getraht|- 
nod  on  ebreisc.  Se  rinel  hym  ^swarede  |  >  cwce^.  hyg 
cwedon  Drihteu  beo  iSu  hd,lig  |  si  gebletsod  se  fte  com  on 

1  The  cut  of  MS.  should  probably  be  resolved  into  cwcet. 

2  The  words  in  brackets  are  supplied  from  Cambr.  MS.     The  MS.  is  so 
much  damaged  that  it  is  often  impossible  to  determine  syllables  and  words. 

3  be  above  line  in  MS.  4After  se  a  syllable  erased  in  the  MS. 

2 


474  W.    H.    HULME. 

[Camb.  Univ.  Lib.  MS.  li.  ii,  11.] 

gemete.  gelsede  hyne  in  to  me.  se  rynel  ba  |  sona  swa  dyde. 
wses  ut  farende.  3  bone  hselend  ge|metende.  y  dyde  baar  3a 
eal  swa  he  serur  dyde.  wearS  |  bam  haelende  geeaftmedende. 
•3  hym  to  cweftende.  |  La  leof  hlaford.  se  detna  be  het  •)?  $u 
5  sceoldest  beon  |  ingeclypod.  se  rynel  hyne  wses  swyfte  byd- 
dende  |  j?  he  sceolde  in  ofer  his  hrsegel  gan.  y  se  leofa  hse|lend 
hyne  wearS  geeaftmedende.  Ac  onmang  bam  be  he  wses 
ingangende.  hyne  wseron  faala  manna  geeaiSmedende.  ^ 
heora  heafdo  to  hym  onhyldende.  j  Ac  pilatus  ba  he  •)? 

10  geseah.    wearft  swyiSe  afyriht.  |    3  up  arysende.    3  utgang- 

[*P.  5.]   ende.    ac  his  wyf  hym  to  |  sende.    bsere  nama  WRBS  procula.  * 

j  wses  hym  bus  to  |  cwe^ende.    ne  sig  be  ^  bysum  ryhtwysan 

men   nan  J>yng  |  gemsene.    for  bam   ic   gehyrde   on   byssere 

nyhte  fsela    J^ynga  be  hym.    ba  ^a  iudeiscan  -p  gehyrdon.    ba 

15  cvvaBdon  |  hig  to  pilate.  nu  bu  myht  be  sylf  gehyran.  •p  he 
ys  a3lces  yfeles  ordfruma.  nu  he  ha3f$  on  slsepe  byn  wyf  1 
gedreht  ty  heo  dwelaft.  Pilatus  het  ba  bone  ha3lend  |  hym  to 
clypian.  3  hym  to  cwceS.  ne  gehyrst  bu  hu  fa3la  [  )>ynga  bys 
folc  ongean  be  segiS.  Se  haelend  hym  ^swalrode  3  cwceS. 

20  gif  hig  myhte  nsefdon.  ne  sprsecon  hig  na.  |  ac  manna  ge- 
hwilc  mseg  specan  myd  his  mufte.  |  swa  yfel  swa  god.  Da 
yldestan  iudeas  )?a  "jswaredon  |  ^  cwaBdon.  to  bam  haelende. 
j?  we  sylfe  gesawon.  "3  we  •)?  |  wytdn.  ^  ^u  aarest  of  forlygere 
wsere  acenned.  |  ^  ofter  ys  "f  "Syn  cynn  ys  on  bethle~6m  swybe 

25  untreow|fsest.  ^  brydde  ty  ioseph  byn  feeder  3  maria  byn  | 
moder  flugon  of  egiptan  lande  for  ban  be  hig  |  naefdon  nanne 
truwan  to  nanum  folce.  ba  cwaBdon  |  sume  be  ^aar  neh  stodon 
be  waaron  bylewyte  y  gode.  |  of  bam  iudeiscum.  Ne  secge  we 
na  f  he  waere  of  forligere  |  acenned.  ac  we  wyton  ty  maria 

30  waas  iosepe  beweddod.  |    3  nass  na  of  forligere  acenned.'    Da 

cwcdS  pilatus  to  |  bam  folce.    ba  ^e  ssedon  ^  he  of  forligere 

wsere  acenjned.    beos  spraac  nys  na  sob.    •}?  ge  sprecaiS  for  bon 

[*P.  6.]  seo    *  weddung  waas  beweddod  eal  swa  eowre  agene  beoda  | 

secgaft.    ba  ^swaredon  pilate  ba  twegen  wselhreowan  |  wyber- 

35  sacan  annas  3  caiphas.    3  cwsedon  la  leof  dema.  |    eall  beos 


THE   OLD    ENGLISH    GOSPEL   OF    NICODEMUS.  475 

[Cotton  MS.  Vitelius  A,  15.] 

drihtnes  naman  |  3  gehsel  us  $u  fe  6n  heannisse  eart.  Da 
cwcpS  |  pilatus  to  fam  iude6n.  Nu  ge  magon  cac  |  beon  to 
gewytnisse  hwaet  fa  cnihtas  cwedon  |  hwset  haf$  fes  rinel 
gesingod.  hyg  suwedon  |  ^  cu'Se  nane  ^sware  sillan.  fta 
5  cwctfS  se  derua1  seft  to  fam  riuele.  Far  3  swa  hwaBr  swa 
$u  |  hyne  gernete  l&t  hyne  into  me.  Se  rinel  |  fta  sona  swa 
dyde  wa3s  ut  farende  *j  f  one  |  helend  gemetende  3  dyde  fa  ^ser 
eall  swa  |  he  a3ror  dyde  wearS  $am  helende  geaftmeden|de 

b     *}  hym  to  cweiSonde.    Leof  hlaford  se  dema    fe  het  $a  f  u 

JQ  sceoldest  beon  ingeclypod.  Se  *  |  rinel  hyne  wses  swi'Se  bydende 
J>set  he  sceolde  |  inn  offer  [his]  hregel  gan  ^  se  helend  hyne  | 
wearS  geea^medende.  Ac  amang  J^am  $e  wees  J  inn  gangende 
hyne  wa?ron  fala  manna  |  geaftmedende  ^  heora  hlaford  hym 
to  anjhildende.  Ac  pilatus  ]>&  he  "p  geseah  wear^  j  swiiSe 

15  afirht.  ^  up  arlsende  3  ut  gangende.  |  Ac  hys  wyf  hym  to 
sende  iSsere  wees  nama  |  proculu  ^  wa3s  hym  to  c\ve$ende.  Ne 
sy  ^e  j  |  ^isum  godon  men  nan  J?ing  gem^ne  for  ftam  |  ic 
gehyrde  6n  iSissere  nihte  fala  )?inga  be  hym  |.  Da  ^Sa  iudeis- 
scan.  ^  gehyrdon.  ^a  cwa5don  hyg  ]  to  pilate.  Nu  ftu  mint 

20  J>e  sylf  gehyran  'Sset  |  he  ys  selces  yfeles  ordfruma  nu  he  hsefet 

6n    swlepe  f>in  wyf  gedreht  ^  heo  dwelaiS.    Pilatws  |  hset  J^a 

^one  helend  hym  to  clypian.    3  hym  |  to  cwceS.    Ne  gehyrstu 

hu  fala  )?inga  'Sis  folc  |  ongean  J>e  seg^.    Se  drihten  hym  cwaBfc. 

[*Fol.  59a.]   Gyf  hy  myhte  nsefedan.*  ne  specon  hy  na.    Acmanjnagehwilc 

25  mseg  specan  myd  hys  muSe  swa  |  swa  god.  Da  yldestan  iudeas 
fa  "jswarode  3  cwejdon  to  $am  helende.  f)sst  we  sylfe  ge- 
sawon.  |  -3  we  -p  wyton  aerost  of  forligere  were  acenned.  | 
•j  o-Ser  ys  ]>sdt  fin  cinn  ys  6n  bethleem  swi^Se  |  untriwfest.  ^ 
fridde  ty  ioseph  $in  feder.  y  ma|rie  ftin  moder  flugon  of 

30  egyptan  lande  for  |  fam  fe  hyg  nafodon  nanne  tri^am  to 
nanum  |  folce.  Da  cwedon  sume  fe  "Ser  neh  stodon  J>e  | 
wseron  bylewitte  ^  g6de  of  fam 2  iudeiscum.  Ne  secge  |  we  n£ 
•p  he  weron  of  forlygere  acenned  ac  we  wyjton  •)?  maria  wa3S 

1  dema  MS.  s  \>am  above  line  in  MS. 


476  W.    H.    HULME. 

[Camb.  Univ.  Lib.  MS.  li.  ii,  11.] 

msenio  clypiaft  y  secga$  ^  he  wsere  of  for|ligre  acenned.  3  ys 
ieelc  yfel  wyrcende.  he  ys  sylfa  |  leas  3  hys  cnyhtas  sarnod. 
Pilatus  hym  ];a  to  ge|cigde  annan  3  caiphan.  3  hym  to  cwceS. 
hwset  syndon  J?as  men  ]?e  hym  myd  specaft.  hig  cwsedon. 
5  hvt  synjdon  hseftenra  manna  beam,  3  syndon  iudeisce  |  ge- 
wordene.  3  se'cgaiS  leas  myd  hym.  •p  he  ne  sig  of  forligere 
acenned.  J?a  "jswaredon  J?a  iudeas  J?e  ^ser  aBnig  god  cuiSon. 
•p  wseron  lazar.  3  asterius.  antonius.  3  iacobus.  zeras.  ^ 
samuel.  isaac.  3  fine£s.  |  crispus.  3  agryppa.  annes  3  iudas. 

10  3  cwaBdon  ne  syndon  we  na  heeftene  geborene.  ac  we  syndon  | 
iudeiscra  manna  beam,  j  we  specaft  so$feest|nysse  hlyste  se 
^e  wylle.  Pilatus  hym  ]?a  to  ge|cigde  J>a  twelf  cnyhtas  )>e 
myd  ]>am  ha3lende  spsejcon  3  heom  to  cworS.  ic  halsige  eow 
for  |>ses  kase|res  helda  fy  ge  me  secgon  hwa3$er  he  of  forjligere 

15  sig  acenned.    hig  cwasdon  )?a  to  pilate.  |    hyt  nys  na  on  ure. 

se.    alyfed  to  swerigenne.    3  swa  |  )?eh.    swa  we  ]?a3S  caseres 

[*P.  7.]   helda  habban  moton  *  (  3  swa  we  deaftes  scyldige  ne  wurSon. 

ty  nys  he  na  of  |  forligere  acenned.    J>a  cwaBdon  to  pilate  annas 

-3  |  caiphas.     La  full  swyfte  gelyfaS  )?as  men  •p  he  |  naBre  of 

20  forlygere  acenned.  j  ty  he  yfel  wyrcen|de  ne  sig.  Huru  we 
sylfe  wyton  ^  he  seg3  ty  he  sylf  sig  |  godes  sunu  -j  cynyng. 
ac  we  ]78es  ne  gelyfa^.  Pilatits  |  p>a  het  eall  •)?  folc  utgan 
buton  "Sam  twelf  cnyhton.  |  ]?e  ssedon  ^  he  na?re  of  forlygere 
acenned.  -3  het  |  laBdan  ]?one  ha3lend  on  sundrum.  -3  ongan 

25  )?a  cnyhjtas  to  axienne  for  hwig  ty  folc  J>one  haeleud  |  swa  yfele 
hsefde.  hig  ^swaredon  pilate  3  cwsedon.  |  buton  hig  habba^ 
andan  to  hym.  for  J?am  |?e  he  |  hsel^S  earm  folc  on  reste  dagum. 
Pilatus  hym  |  to  cwoe^.  hwa3t  wyllaft  hig  hyne  for  god  urn 
weorce  |  ofslean.  hig  ^swaredon  3  cwsedon  gea  leof.  Pilat'  | 

30  hym  ba  wear^  yrre  geworden.  3  uteode  "3  cwa?3  to  |  f»am 
folce.  ic  hsebbe  nu  me  sylfne  to  gewytan.  |  -f  ic  ne  myhte 
nanne  gylt  on  ]>ysum  men  fyndan.  |  pa  ^swaredon  ]?a  iudeas 
3  cwsedon  to  pilate.  gif  |  he  naere  yfel  wyrcende.  ne  sealdon 
we  hyne  |  na3fre  ]?e.  Pilatus  heom  to  cw(FS.  nymaft  hyne  | 
35  eac  -3  demaS  hym  a3fter  eowre  se.  Da  cwsedon  hig  |  to  pilate. 


THE    OLD    ENGLISH    GOSPEL   OF   NICODEMUS.  477 

[Cotton  MS.  Vitelius  A.  15.] 

iosepe  beweddet  3  uses  n&  of)  forlygere  acennsed.  Da  cwset 
pilatos  to  ftam  |  fol.ce.  Da  fte  ssedon  •p  he  of  forlygere  wsere  | 
acenned  ]?eos  sprsec  nys  na  soft  fte  ge  sprecaft  |  for  ftam  seo 
weddung  wses  beweddud  call  swa  eowre  |  agene  fteoda  secgaft. 

"g  Da  ^swarode  pilate  pa  *  twegen'  wselhreowan  wyftersacan. 
annas.  3  chafiphas.  3  cwsedon.  la  leof  dema  call  fteos 
mse|nige  clypaft  3  ssegft  -p  he  were  of  forlygere  acen|ned.  ^ 
ys  selc  yfel  wyrcende.  he  ys  sylfa  leas  |  3  cnihtas  samod. 
Pilatus  hym  pa  gecygde  an  nan.  3  caiphan.  3  hym  to  cwset. 

10  Hwset  sindon  |  ftas  men  fte  hym  myd  specaft.  Hy  cwedon. 
Hit  |  sindon  hseftenra  manna  beam.  ^  syndon  iudei|sce  ge- 
wurdene.  ^  secgaft  leas  myd  hym.  -p  he  ne  |  sy  of  forlygere 
acenned.  Da  "jswarode  ]m  iudeias  p>e  ftser  enig  god  cuften  -p 
waaron  ladzar.  y  astejrius.  antonius.  ^  iacobz.  zeras.  ^ 

15  samuel.   isa|ac.  ^  fin^s.  crispus.  ^)  agrippa.  amnes.  3  iujdas. 

3  cwsedon  ne  sindon  we  na  heftene  geboronjne  ne  lease  ge- 

wurdene.    Ac  we  sindon  iudeisce|ra  manna  bsern.    *j  we  specaft 

softfastnese  hliste  |  se  fte  wylle.     Pilatus  hym  fta  wset  to  ge- 

[*Fol.  60a.]   cygde  |  ]?a  twelf  cnihtas  fte  myd  ftam  helende  specon.  *      ^ 

20  hym  to  cwset.  Ic  halsige  eow  far  ftses  caseres  |  haelda.  ^  ge 
me  secgon  hwsefter  he  of  forlygere  |  sy  acenned.  Hyg  cwsedon 
fta  to  pilate.  Hit  nys  na  on  ure.  83.  alyfeft  to.  swseriaune 


•3  sw^,  fteh  swa    we  ftses  kaseres  hseldan  habban  moton 

we  |  ftees  deaj^es  scyldige  ne  wurSun  ^  nys  he  na  of  |  forlygere 

25  acenned.  Da  cwsedon  to  pilate.  anas.1  1  3  caiphas.  La  full 
swifte  gelyfaft  ]>&s  men  -p  he  j  nsere  of  forlygere  acenned  3  he 
•p  yfelwyrcen|de  ne  sy.  Hu  nu  we  silfe  wyton  •p  he  ssegft  ^ 
he  |  sylf  sy  godes  sunu  3  cynning  ac  we  ftses  ne  gejlyfaft. 
Pilatus  fta  het.  a3all  ftset  folc  ut  gaii  |  buton  ftam  tw£lf  cnihton 

30  J>e  ssedon  -p  he  nsere  |  of  forlygere  acenned.    3  het  Isedan  ftone 

h^jlend  6n  sundrum  ^  dnganii  fta  cnihtas  |  to  axianne  for  wyg 

ftset  folc  ftone  helend     swa  yfele  hafodon.     Hig  ^swaredon 

[*Fol.  60b.]  pila|te  3  cwsedon.    Buton  hyg  habbaft  andau  *  |  to  hym  for  ftarn 

he  hselft  earm  folc  on  reste  dagum.  |     Pilatus  hym  to  cwseft. 

1  ana*  MS. 


478  W.    H.    HULME. 

[Carnb.  Univ.  Lib.  MS.  li.  ii,  11.] 

[*P.  8.]  us  nys  na  alyfed  nanne  man  to  *  |  ofsleanne.  Pilatus  hyrn  eft 
in  eode  on  his  do|merne.  j  geclypode  fpne  hselend  sylfne 
hym  to  |  3  cwceft.  eart  f  u  iudea  cyning.  Se  hselend  hym 
•jswa|rode  3  cwceS.  segst  fu  ty  of  fe  sylfum.  hwseSer  fe 
5  hyt  |  fe  o$re  men  be  me  ssedon.  Pilatus  fa  -jswarode  |  fam 
hselende  y  cwceft.  nast  fu  ty  ealle  iudeisce.  -j  fyne  agene 
f  eoda  -j  fa  yldestan  sacerdas  f  e  habbaft  |  me  geseald.  ac  sege 
me  hwset  hsefst  f  u  gedon.  |  Se  hselend  hym  ^swarode  3 
cwceft.  myn  ryce  nys  |  na  on  )?ysum  myddan  earde.  gif  hyt 

10  on  jjysum  |  myddan  earde  myn  rice  waBre.  )?onne  wy^  |  stodon 
myne  J^enas  f  ic  uaBre  |;ysiim  iudeum  |  geseald.  Pilatus 
hym  to  cwce'S.  eart  jm  eornostlice  cyning.  Se  haBlend  hym 
•^swarode  ^  cwce^.  "p  ^u  segst  |  ty  ic  cyning  sig.  he  cwceft  eft 
se  ha3lend  to  pilate.  ac  ic  eom  to  J?aw  cumen  on  ];ysne  myd- 

15  dan  |  eard.  •p  a3lc  J?a3ra.  )?a  ^e  so^faBstnysse  lufia^.  |  myne 
stefne  gehyra^.  Pilatus  hym  to  cwceS.  |  hwoet  ys  softfsest- 
nys.  Se  haBlend  hym  ^swarode  |  °j  cwceft.  softfsestnys  ys  of 
heofenum.  pa  cwa3$  pilatus.  |  nys  nan  softfsestnys  on  eor^an. 
se  haBlend  hym  |  ^swarode  ^  cwce^.  begym  ^  oncnaw  hu 

20  ryhte  domas  |  J>a  demon  J?e  on  eor^San  syndon.    y  anweald 

[*P.  9.]  habba^.*  |     Pilatus  het  J;a  )?one  haBlend  utgan  wySutan  |  hys 

domern.    3  cwce^  to  'Sam  iudeum.    ne  myhte  ic  nanne    gylt 

on  J?ysum   menn  fyndan.    J>a  cwaBdon  ]>&  \  iudeas  to  pilate. 

gyse  gyt  he  seg^S  mare.    •))  he  msege  |.fys  tempel  towurpan. 

25  ^  eft  hyt  arseran  bynnan  |  J^reora  daga  fsece.  )?a  cwce^  pilatus 
hwylc  tempel.  |  Hig  saBdon  ty  tempel  ^  Salomon  getymbrode 
on  |  syx  3  hundseofentigum  wyntrum.  •p  he  mseg  he  seg$  | 
towurpan.  y  hyt  eft  getymbrian  bynnan  ]?reora  |  daga  fgece. 
]?a  cwce^  pilatus.  ic  gedo  ty  ge  ealle  geseoft  ty  ic  wylle  beon 

30  un|scyldig  fram  J^yses  mannes  blode.  |  J;a  cwa?don  )>a  iudeas. 
sig  hys  blod  ofer  us.  3  ofer  |  ure  beam.  Pilatus  hym  waBS 
fa  to  gecigende  fa  |  ealdras  3  fa  ma3ssepreostas  ^  fa  diaconas. 
•3  cwoe^S  |  to  hym  dygollice.  ne  do  ge  na  swa.  for  fan  ic 
nan  |  yfel  on  hym  naBbbe  gemet.  ne  be  haBlinge.  ne  |  be  reste 

35  daga  gewemminge.    fa  cwa3don  fa  ealdras.  |    i  fa 


THE   OLD    ENGLISH   GOSPEL   OF   NICODEMCJS.  479 

[Cotton  MS.  Vitelius  A.  15.] 

Hwset  wylla$  hyg  hine1 1  for  godum  weorcum  ofslsean.  hyg 
•jswarodon  3  |  cwedou  gsea  leof.  Pttatus  hym  wearS  ]?a  yrre| 
geweorden.  y  ut  eode.  3  cwset  to  -Sara  folce  ic  habjbse  nu 
me  sylfne  to  gewytam.  •)?  ic  ne  myhte  |  naune  geilt  on  ftissum 

5  mem  findan.  Da  cwsedon  |  J>a  iudtas  to  pilate.  Gyf  he  nsere 
yfelwyrcende  |  DC  sealdon  we  hyne  nere  ]>e.  Pilatits  hym  to 
cwset.  |  NimaiS  hyne  eac.  ^  demaft  hym  seffcer  eowre.  03. 
Da  cwsedon  hyg  to  pilate.  Vs  nys  na  alu|fe$  nanne  man 
to  slseanne.  Pilatws  him  sefter  |  in  eode  6n  hys  domerne  "j 

10  geclypode  $one  |  helend  silftne.    hym.  to  3  cwset.     Eart  $u 

iudea    cyng.     Se  helend   hym   cwset.     SegsiS   ]?u   •p   of  []>e] 

sylfum  hwe^er  J>e  hyt  iSe  oiSre  men  be  me  |  sseden.     Pilat?^s 

cwset  to  ftam  helende.     Nast  |  ^u  ty  ge  ealle  iudeisce  syndon. 

[*Fol.  6ia.]   ~\  ftine  agene  *  |  'Seoda.    3  J;a  yldestam  sacerdas  )?e  habbaft  me 

15  ge|seald.  Ac  sege  hwset  hsefst  iSu  gedon.  De  helend  |  cwset. 
Min  rice  nys  na  6n  iSisne  middam  earde.  |  Gyf  hyt  on  iSison 
myddan  earde  min  rice  |  waare  ^one  wy^stodon  mine  penas. 
•p  ic  nsere  |  "Sisum  iudeum  geseald.  Pilatus  hym  to  cwset.  | 
Eart  "Su  eornostlice  kingnig.  De  helend  hym  cwset.  "p  ^u 

20  segst  •f  ic  kinnig  sy.  He  cwce£  seft  sejhelend  to  pilate.  Ac 
ic  eom  to  $am  cumen  |  6n  ^isne  myddan  eard.  •)?  selc  ^ara  J?a 
^Se  so'Sjfastnise  lufia'S  mine  stemne  he  gehyr^.  Pilatits  hym 
to  cwset.  Hwset  hys  softfsestnis.  |  ^Se  hym  to  cwset.  Soi5- 
fsestnis  ys  of  heofona.  |  "Sa  cwoe^  pilatus.  Nis  nan  so$fa3stnis 

25  6n  eor^an.  |    De  helend  hym  cwset  to.    Begym  3  6ncnaw  |  hu 

rihte   domas  ^a  demam  i$e  on  eoriSan   synidon  ^   anwealft 

habba^.     Pilatws  hec  ^a  iSone  I  helend  ut  gan  wyftutan  hys 

[*Fol.  61b.]   domernn  3  cwset  *  |  to  $am  iudeum.     Ne  myhte  ic  nanne  gylt 

on  ]  ]?isum   men  findan.     Da  cwsedon  ^a  iudeas  |  to  pilate. 

30  Gyse  gyt  he  ssegft  mare  ^  he  meg  |  j^is  tempel  towa3rpan.  ^ 
hyt  seft  areram  |  binnan  ^reora  dagena  fyrste.  fta  cwset  | 
pilatits.  hwilc  tempel.  hy  ssedon.  Dset  tem|pel  pe  salornan 
getrimbrode.  6n  syx  ^  |  hund  seofontigon  wyntrum  •p  he 
meg  he  ssegft  j  towserpam.  ^  hyt  seft  getrinbrian.  bynnan  | 

1  hlne  MS. 


480  W.    H.    HULME. 

[Camb.  Univ.  Lib.  MS.  li.  ii,  11.] 

preostas  to  pilate.    gise.    swa  hwylc  |  man  swa  wyftersacaft 

bam   casere.    he  byiS    (leases   scyldig.  |     Pilatus  eft  het  ba 

iudeas  gan  ut  of  bam  domerne.  |     3  wses  hym  to  clypigende 

baene  hselend  3  cwceft.    hwset  |  mseg  ic  be  nu  d6n.     Da  cwceft 

5  se  hselend.    to  pilate.    gejnoh  hyt  ys.    nu  genoh  hyt  ys.    ba 

[*P.  10.]  cwceft  se  hselend.  j  *  swa  raoyses  ^  manega  oftre  wytegan  bode- 

don  |  be  bysse  ylcan  browunge.    3   be  mynre   seryste.  |     Da 

iudeas  ba  hig  j?  gehyrdon  cwsedon  to  Pilate.  [    hwset  wylt  bu 

mare  set  hym  habban.    o<5$e  hys   wyftersacunge  gehyran.    pa 

10  cwceiS  pilatus  to  barn  iudeum.  gif  seo  sprsec  wyiSersacung  ys. 
be  he  spycft.  |  nymaft  hyne  -3  Iseda3  hyne  to  eowre  gesorn- 
nunge.  |  y  demaft  hym  sefter  eowre.  aa.  ba  cwsedon  ba  iudeas  | 
to  pilate.  we  wyllaiS  ^>  he  beo  onhangen.  ba  cwce^  [  pilatus 
to  bam  iudeum.  hwset  hsefiS  he  gedon  ^  he  |  sweltan  scyle. 
15  hig  ssedon.  buton  for  bam  ^e  he  |  ssede  ty  he  godes  sunu  wsere. 
^  sylfa  cyning.  pa  stod  bar  to  foran  bam  deman  an  iudeisc 
wer.  |  bses  nama  wses  nychodemus.  3  CWCF§  to  bam  deman.  | 
la  leof  ic  bydde  be  for  bynre  myltse.  'p  $11  laete  |  me  sprecan 
ane  feawa  worda.  ba  cwoe^S  pilatus.  |  gea  spree,  ba  cwoeft 

20  nichodemus.  ic  secge  eow  ealdron.  |  ^  masssepreostum.  3 
diaconum.  ^  ealre  byssre  |  iudeiscan  msenigeo.  be  her  on 
geferscype  syndon.  Ic  axie  eow  hwce£  ge  wyllon  set  byson 
men  |  habban.  Swylce  word  he  bser  for^let.  swylce  |  ser  nan 
o^er  ne  dorste.  ba  wses  hym  bser  neh  |  sum  wer  standende  se 
]  wses  iosep  genemned.  waas  god  *  |  wer.  3  ryhtwys.  y  naas 
nsefre  hys  wylles  bser  man  bone  hselend  wregde  on  nanum 
gemange.  he  wses  |  of  bsere  ceastre  be  ys  genemned  arimathia. 
3  he  |  geanbidiende  wses  godes  ryces  o$  ^  iSe  cryst  wses  | 
ahangen.  ^  he  set  pilate  ba.  crystes  lychaman  absed.  |  y 

30  hyne  of  bsere  rode  genam.  3  on  clsenre  scytan  |  befeold.  ^ 
hyne  on  hys  nywan  bruh  alede.  on  |  bsere  be  nan  o^er  man 
ser  on  ne  Iseg.  pa  $a  iudeas  •p  gehyrdon.  ^  iosep  hsefde  baas 
hseleudes  lychaman  |  abeclen.  ba  sohton  hig  hyne.  -\  ba  twelf 
cnyhtas  be  ssedon  •p  he  nsere  of  forligere  acenned.  ^  nicho  |  - 

35  demus.    ^  msenige  o^re  be  ser  myd  bam  hselende  spsecon. 


THE   OLD   ENGLISH   GOSPEL   OF   NICODEMUS.  481 

[Cotton  MS.  Vitelius  A.  15.] 

Sreora  dagena  fyrste.     Da  cwcet  pilatws.  |     Eall  ic  do  j?  ge 

geseoiS  "p  ic  wylle  beon  unscildy.  |    fram  ]?yses  mannes  blode. 

$a  cwaadon  $a  iujdeas.     Sy  hys  blod  offer  us  y   offer  ure 

beam.  |    Pilatws   hym   wes  J?a  tegegende  fta  ealdras  3   fta  | 

5  preostas  "j  deaconas.    ^  cwce£  to  hym  dygolice.     Ne  |  do  ge  na 

&w£  for  'Sam  ic  nan  yfel  6n  hym  naajbbe  gemet  j)  ic  sy  deaftes 

scyldig. '  ne  be  haalyn|ge  ne  be  reste  daga  gewemmynge.     Da 

[*Fol.  62a.]  cwedon  *  |  J?a  ealdras.  to  pilate.    Gy ] — se  swa  hwylc  man  swa  | 

wySe  sacaft  iSam  casere.     He  by  ft  deaftes  scyldig.  |    Pilatits 

10  eft  het  fta  iudeas  gan  ut  of  pam 2  domerne.  3  clypode  hym 
to  ];one  helend.  ^  cwcet.  hwset  meg  |  io  %e  nu  don.  ~Sa  cwcet 
se  helend  to  pilate.  Genoh  |  hyt  hys.  hu  genoh  hyt  ys.  'Sa 
cwset  se  helend.  |  Swa  moises  ^  manega  o^re  wytega  bodedon 
be  ftysse  ylcaTi  ];rowunge.  ^  be  minre  seriste.  |  Da  iudeas 

15  ]?a  hyg  "p  gehyrdon.  cvva3don  to  |  pilate.  Hwset  wylt  ^u 
mare  set  hym  habban  o^iSon  hys  wyftersacunge  gehyram.  | 
Da  cwaat  pilatws  to  ^am  iudeum.  Gyf  seo  spec  wyfter- 
sacung  |  ys  'Se  he  spic'S  nime  ge  hyne  3  ledat  hyne  to  |  eowre 
gesomnunge.  ^  denial  hym  seter  eowre  as.  Da  cwsedon  ^a 

20  iudeas  to  pilate.    We  wyl|]aft  •p  he  beo  6nhangen.     Da  cwcet 

pilatits  to  ^am  |  iudeum.     Hwset  he  gedon  ty  he  sweltam  scile. 

[*Fol.  62b.]   Hyg  sedon.    Buton  for  ^am  he  sede  j?  he  godes  sunu  *  |  waare 

y  sylfa  cinnig.    $a  stod  )?er  to  foran  ]>am  \  deman  an  iudeisc 

wser  -Saes  naman  waas  nichode|mus.    3  cwce^  to  deman.     La 

25  leof  ic  bydde  $e  for  |;in|re  miltse.  "p  last  me  speca  ane  feawa 
weorda.  Da  cwast  pilatws.  Gea  spec.  iSa  cwcet  nichodemws. 
Ic  secge|eow  ealdron.  ^  masseprcoston.  ^  deaconum  "3  eall|re 
^issere  iudeiscan  mandgum.  $e  her  6n  ge|ferscype  sindon.  Ic 
axige  eow  hwaat  ge  wyllen  aat  |  ^issen  men  habbarn.  Swylce 

30  weord  he  ~Sar  forS|la3t  swylce  aar  nan  oiSer  ne  dorste  ^a  waas 
hym  |  neh  sum  waar  standende.  J?e  waas  ioseph  gene?nned  | 
waas  god  waar  y  rihtwys  ^  naas  naafre  hys  wyllaas  |  'Ser  man 
Sone  helend  wrengde  on  nanum  ge|  mange.  He  waas  of  -Sere 

1  Syllable  erased  in  MS.  *  >a'  above  line,  MS. 

3 


482  W.    H.   HULME. 

[Camb.  Univ.  Lib.  MS.  li.  ii,  11.] 

his  godan  weorc  geswutelodon.  Ealle  hig  peh  |  hig  sylfe 
bedyglodon.  pser  iSser  hig  woldon.  buton  nichodemus  sylfa. 
for  ]>am  $e  he  wses  an  ealdor  j  on  pam  iudeiscan  folce.  pa  com 
he  to  hym.  pser  pser  |  hig  heora  gesomnunga  hsefdon.  3  cwceft 
5  to  hym.  hu  |  come  ge  hyder  on  pas  gesomnunga.  f>  ic  hyt 
seror  |  nyste.  pa  "jswaredon  pa  iudeas  3  cwsedon.  ac  |  hu 
waere  pu  swa  dyrstig.  -p  $u  dorstest  innon  ure  gejsomnunge 
gaii.  pu  fte  wsere  gepwsenge'nde  "j  myd.  |  specende  pam  hse- 
lende.  Ac  sig  he  sefre  myd  pe  her  |  3  eac  on  psere  toweardan 
t*R110  worulde-  pa-jswarode|*he:|cwa?S.  AMEN.  AMEN.  Eall 
swa  gelice  iosep  setter  pam  |  hyne  setywde.  ^  heom  to  com.  ^ 
|?us  cwo^S.  for  hwig  syndon  ge  swa  unrote  ongean  me.  Is 
hyt  for  ]>am  -Se  ic  absed  )?8es  hselendes  lychaman  a3t  pilate. 
SoiS  hyt  ys  ^  ic  |  hyne  absed.  -j  on  clsenre  scytan  befeold.  ^ 

15  hyne  on  mynre  byrgene  alede.  y  f>8er  to  foran  )?am  scrsefe.  | 
mycelne  stan  to  awylte.  3  ic  secge  to  so^on.  -p  ge  wel  na 
ne  dydon  ongean  J>one  ryhtwysan.  ty  ge  hyne  |  ahengon.  y 
myd  spere  sticodon.  J>a,  'Sa  iudeas  "p  ge|hyrdon  )?a  gefengon 
hig  hyne.  3  heton  hyne  fseste  |  on  cwearterne  beclysau.  3 

20  cwsedon  to  hym.  oncnaw  |  nu  ^  ongyt  •p  hyt  •Se  lyt  sceal 
fremian.  ^  ^u  toj^ohtest.  we  wyton  p  "Su  nsefre  ne  eart 
wyr<Se  "p  "Su  bebyrged  |  beo.  Ac  we  sceolon  syllan  }>yne 
flsescu  heofenes  |  fugelum.  ^  eor^an  wyld  deorum.  ]?a  iudeas 
];a  hyne  |  on  J;am  cwearterne1  gebrohton.  y  J?a  duru  fseste 

25  be|lucon.  3  annas.  ^  caiphas.  "p  loc  geinseglodon.  ^j  J>8er  | 
to  hyrdas  setton.  "j  gej>eaht  worhton  myd  bam  |  msessepreos- 
tum.  ^j  myd  J>am  diaconum.  hwylcum  dea^e  |  hig  ioseph 
ofslean  woldon.  Ac  hyt  waes  pa  on  dseg  |  reste  dseg.  ^  hig 
geanbydian  woldon.  o$  ofer  psene  |  dseg  3  hig  sySiSan  gesom- 

30  nigean.    ^  pa  hwyle  ymbe    "p  "Sencan.    hu  hig  hyne  teonlycost 

[*P.  13.]  ateon  myhton.    *    Ac  hyt  gewearS  pa.    -p  ^a  ealdras.    ^  pa 

maBSsepreostas  |  ofer  pone  reste  dseg  hig  gesomnodon.    3  annas.  | 

•3  caiphas.    wseron  for^gangende.    to  psere  clusan.  |    pser  pser 

hig  ioseph  beclysed  hsefdon.    3  hig  uninseglodon  |  f  loc  3  pa 

MS. 


THE  OLD   ENGLISH   GOSPEL  OF  NICODEMUS.  483 

[Cotton  MS.  Vitelius  A.  15.] 

eastre  fte  ys  genemned    arimathia  y   he  waBS  ge^bidigende 

godes  rices  oft  "p  fte  crist  waBS  6nhangeu  ^  aBt  pilate  fta  crijstes 

lychamam  abeden.    fta  sohte  hy  hyne.      3  fta  twaBlf  cnihtas 

[*Fol.  63a.]  fte  sedon  -p  he  n&re  of  forlyre  *  |  acenned.    y  nichodemws  3 

5  manege  oftre  fte  ser  |  myd  3am  helende  specon  "3  hys  goda 

weorc  swujtelodon.     Ealle  hy  peh  hyg  sylfe  bedigolodou  l  \ 

paBr  ftaBr  hyg  wolde.    buton  nychodeoms  sylfa  for  |  -Sam  fte  he 

an  ealder  wa3S  6n  ftam  iudeiscan  folce  |  fta  com  he  to  hym  paBr 

ftaBr  hyg  heora  somnun|ga  hsefodon.    ^  cwcet  to.  hym.    Hu 

10  come  ge  hyder  |  611  paBs  gesamnunge.  •p  ic  hyt  aBror  nyste. 
Da  ^jswarodon  ]?a  iudeas  ^  cwsedon.  Ac  hu  wa3re  ^u  sw£ 
dyrstig  "p  'Su  dorstest  in  6n  ure  somnunge  j  gan  p>u  i5e  wsere 
myd  specende  ^am  helende.  |  Ac  sy  he  aefre  myd  J>e  her.  -j 
eac  6n  J>sere  towser|dan  weorulde.  Da  ^swarode  he  ^  cwset 

15  AMEN.  | 2 — all  swa  gelice  ioseph  a?ter  -§am  hy  seowde  |  -3  hym 

to  com  ^  "Sus  cwa?t.    For  hwyg  sindon  |  ge  swa  unrote  6ngean 

me.     Is  hyt  for  "Sam  J>e  ic  |  abad  ]?ses  helendes  lychaman  a3t 

pilate.     Soft  |  hyt  ys.    "p  ic  hyne  abseft  ^  6n  clenere  scytan 

[*Fol.  63b.]    be*|feold  3  6n   minre  byrgene  alede.    ^  fter  to  j  foran  ftam 

20  scrafe  milcel  stan  to  awylte  |  ^  ic  secge  to  ftan  softam  •p  ge 
wsel  na  ne  dydon  ongean  -gone  rihtwisan  3a3t  ge  hyne  on 
rode  |  ahengon  "j  myd  spere  sticodon.  Da  fta  iudeas  |  "p  gehyr- 
don  fta  gefengon  hy  hine  "j  h^ton  hycne  fseste  on  cwerterne 
beclysan.  ^  cwaBdon  to  |  hym  oncnaw  nu  ^  ongyt  •p  hyt  )?e  lit 

25  sceal  frejmian.  p  ftset  ftu  to  ftohtest  we  wyton  •p  ftu  naBfre  | 
nse  eart  wyrfte  "p  ftu  beriged  beo.  Ac  we  scylon  |  syllon  J>ine 
flaBscu  heofenas  fugelum  ^  eorSan  |  wylle  deorum.  Da  iudeas 
pa  hy  hyne  on  cwearterne  |  gebrohton.  3  pa  duru  faBste  belu- 
con  y  annas  ^  j  caiphas  p  loc  hy  inseglodon  ^  paBrto  hyrdas 

30  setton  |  ^  gepeaht  weorton.    myd  ftam  maBSsepreost^u  ^  |  myd 

•8an  deaconum.    hwylcon  deafte  h^g  ioseph  of|slean  wolden. 

Ac  hyt  waBs  pa  on  daBg  restedaBg.    3  |  hy  ge^bydian  wolde  oft 

[*Fol.  64a.]   ofer  ftone  daBg  ^  hy  syftdan  *  |  gesomnian  -j  pa  hwile  ymbe  -p 

ftencan  hu  hy|ne  teonlicost  ateon  mydhton.    Ac  hyt  gewearft  | 

1  Letter  erased  in  middle  of  this  word  in  MS.         2  Word  erased  in  MS, 


484  W,   H,   HULME. 

[Camb.  Univ.  Lib.  MS.  li.  ii,  11.] 

csegan.    y   ba  duru  geopenigende.    Ac  bser  nses  |  na  ioseph 

inne  funden.    Da  -p  folc  -p  gehyrdon.    ba  |  wundredon  hig  3 

wseron  afyrhte.    ac  araang  bam  |  be  hig  ymbe  -p  sprsecon.    3 

ymbe  "p  wundredon.    ba  |  stod  beer  sum  of  bam  cerupon.    be 

5  iSses  haelendes  byrgene  |  healdan  sceoldon.    ^  cwceft  sona.    •p  ic 

wat  ba  we  bses  hselenjdes  byrgene  heoldon.    ba  wearft  my  eel 

eorSstyrung.  |    3  we  godes  engel  gesawon.    hu  he  bone  stan 

fram  |  bsere  byrgyne  awylte.    ^  on  fupgan  bam  stane  gesset.    3 

ic  wat  -p  his  ansyn  wees  swylce  ligrsesc.    ^  his  reaf   waeron 

10  swylce  snaw.    swa  -p  we  wseron  afyrhte.    ^  we  |  bser  lagon. 

swylce  we  deade  wseron.    ^  we  gehyrdon   bone  engel  cweftende 

to  bam  wyfum.    be  to  'Sses  hselendes  |  byrgene  comon.    he 

cwo^S.    ne  ondra3de  ge  eow  na.  |    for  bam  ic  wat  -p  ge  bone 

hselend  seca^.    bone  be  on|hangen  wees,    ac  he  nys  na  her. 

15  he  ys  arysen.    eal  swa  |  he  ser  foressede.    ac  eurnaiS  ^  geseoS 

ba  stowe.    be  |  he  on  aldd  wses.    ^  fara^  ra^e.    ^  secgaiS  hys 

leoruing|cnyhtum.    ty  heora  hlaford  ys  arysen  of  deafte.    3 

[*P.  14.]   ys    *  hig  fore  stseppende  on  galilea?!.    bser  hig  hyne  raagon 

geseon.  eall  swa  he  heom  a3r  fore  sa}de.  ba  iudeas  ba  |  hig  •p 
20  gehyrdon.  waBron  heom  to  geclypigende  ealle  |  ba  cerapan. 
];e  ftsds  hseleudes  byrgene  heoldon.  ^  heom  |  to  cwa3don. 
hwset  wseron  ba  wyf  be  se  engel  wyS|spa3c.  3  for  hwylcon 
byngon  ne  geheolde  ge  hig.  |  Da  cempan  heom  ^swaredon  ^ 
cwsedon.  we  nyston  |  hwset  ba  wyf  wseron.  ne  we  hyt  witan 
25  ne  myhton.  |  for  bam  fte  we  wseron1  swylce  we  deade  wseron. 
for  ba3S  engeles  ege  -3  for  bsere  gesyh^e  be  we  bser  gesawon. 
y  for  bam  we  ba  wyf  gefon  ne  myhton.  ba  cwsedon  ba  iudeas. 
swa  us  dryhten  lybbe.  ne  gelyfe  |  we  eow  na.  ba  ^swaredon 
ba  cempan  y  cwsedon  to  bam  iudeum.  La  swa  fa?la  wundra 
30  swa  se  haBlend  worhte.  |  ^  ge  "p  gesawon.  ^  gehyrdon.  for 
hwig  noldon  ge  gejlyfan  on  bone  be  ge  gelyfan  sceoldon.  y 
swa  J>eh  |  wel  ge  cwsedon  ser.  her  beforan.  ba  ge  sa3don. 
swa  |  us  dryhten  lybbe.  beh  ge  hyt  nyston.  hw«t  hyt  | 
beheold.  Soft  hyt  ys  p  se  sylfa  dryhten  3  se  so^lfsesta  leofaft. 

1  u>ceron,  MS. 


THE   OLD   ENGLISH   GOSPEL  OF   NICODEMUS.  485 

[Cotton  MS.  Vitelius  A.  15.] 

J?a  ^  "Sa  ealdras  ofor  "Sone  raestedaeg  hy  gesom|noden.  3  annas. 
•3  caiphas.  waeron  forSgangende  |  to  J?aere  duran  ]?aer  ftaer  hy 
ioseph  beclysed  hsefe|don  ^  hy  waeron  -p  loc  3  f»a  cegan  unin- 
segelede  3  |  J?a  dura  ge[o]peniende.  Ac  J>aer  nys  na  ioseph  | 
5  inne  funden.  Da  "p  folc  ]?aet  gehyl'don.  i5a  wunjdredon  fyy  ^ 
weron  afyrhte  ac  amang  J?am  hy  |  ymbe  *p  specon.  fta  stod 
paer  sum  of  $am  cem|pon  ]?e  "Sees  helendes  byrgene  haealdan 
sceol|don  y  cwce£  sona.  Daet  ic  wat  pa  we  ftaes  helendes  j 
byrigene  heoldou.  i$a  waerS  mycil  eorSstirung  |  ^  we  godes 

10  engel  gesawon  hu  he  3one  stan  fraru  |  "Sere  byrieude  awylte  ^ 

uppan  'Sam  stane  ge|sset  ^  yc  wat  ty  hys  ansin  wses  swilce 

lyg|raesc  ^   hys   reaf  waeron  swilce  sn^lw  sw&  "p  we  weron 

[*Fol.  64b.]  a|fyrhte  ]?set  we  p»ser  lagon  swylce  we  deade  weron  *  |  3  we 

gehyrdu?i  $one  engel  cwse^ende  to  "Sam  wyfura  |  J>e  to  ]?a3S 

15  helendes  byrigene  comon.  He  cwce£.  Ne  |  6ndra3cle  ge  na  for 
ftam  ic  wat  "p  ge  "Sone  helend  |  secaft  J?onne  he  onhangen  wses. 
ac  he  nys  na  |  her  he  ys  arisen  eall  swa  he  ser  fore  sa3de 
acuma~S  |  "3  geseo'S  )?a  stowe  hwer  he  alsed  waes  ^  fara^  ra^e  | 
•^  secgaiS  hys  leorningcuihtas  •p  heora  hlaford  |  ys  arisen  of 

20  deafte  ^  ys  hyg  fores tseppende  on  galileon  J>aer  hyg  magon 
hyne  geseon.  eallswa  |  he  hym  foresa3de.  'Sa  iudeas  ]?a  hy 
"Saat  gehyr|don.  waeron  hym  to  geclypigende  ealle  $a  cem|pon 
'Se  ]?ses  helendes  byrigene  heoldon  ^  hym  |  to  cwaedon.  Hwset 
waeron  ^a  wyf  ]?e  ^e  engel  wyS|spaec  ^  hwylcon  ^ingon  ne 

25  geheoldon  ge  hyg.  |     Da  cempan  hym  ^swaredon  ^  cwaedon. 

We  ny|ste  hwaet  'Sa  wyf  weron  ne  hyt  wytan  ne  |  mosten  ne* 

mihton  for  'Son  fte  we1  waeron  geworde|ne  swylce  we  deade 

[*Fol.  65a.]   waeron  for  'Saes  engelas  *    ege  ^  for  ^ere  gesyh'Se  ^Se  we  iSaer 

gesawon  |  ^  for  "Son  we  ^a  wyf  gefon  ne  myhton.    Da  cwedon 

30  i5a  iudeas.  Sw£  we  us  drihten  lybbe  |  ne  gelyfe  we  eow  na. 
Da  "jswarodon  |?a  cem|pan  ^  cwaedon  to  "Sam  iudeam.  La 
swal  fala  wunjdra  swa  se  helend  worhte  3  ge  $aet  gesawon  ^ 
ge|hyrdon  swa  us  drihten  lybbe  far  hwyg  noldon  |  ge  gelyfan 
6n  'Sone  ^e  ge  gelyfan  seoldon  3  swa  |  );eh  wel  ge  cwaedon  aer 

1  We  above  line  in  MS. 


486  W.    H.   HULME. 

[Camb.  Univ.  Lib.  MS.  li.  ii,  11.] 

se  "Se  ge  on  rode  ahengon.    3  we  ge|hyrdon  -f  secgaD  p  Joseph 

fe  ftses  hselendes  lyc|haman  bebyrigde.    f  ge  hyne  on  fsestre 

[*P.  15.]  clusan  |  beclysdon.    3  f  loc  myd  insegle  geinseglodon.*  |    3  fa 

ge  J?ser  to  comon.    fa  ne  fundon  ge  hyne  n&.    Ac  |  on  eornost. 

5  syllon  ge  us  ioseph  fe  ge  on  fsere  clusjan  beclysdon.    *}  we 

syllaft  eow  f  one  hselend  fe  we  |  on   frere  byrgene  healdan 

sceoldon.    fa  "jswaredon  |  fa   iudeas  3  cwsodon.    ioseph  we 

njagon  begytan.    for    fam  $e  ioseph  ys  on  hys  ceastre  ary- 

mathia.    fa  cemjpan  heom  "jswaredon  3  cwsedon.    gyf  ioseph 

10  ys  on  fsere  ceastre  arymathia.  )?onne  secge  we  ^  se  hsalend 
ys  on  galileaw.  eall  swa  we  gehyrdon  -p  se  engel  hyt  ]>am  \ 
wyfum  sMe.  J>a  iudeas  ]?a  hig  eall  );ys  gehyrdon.  |  )?a 
aforhtodon  hig  ^  cwsedon  heom  betwynan.  gif  |  ];eos  spsec  to 
wyde  spryng^S.  ealles  to  faela  wyle  on  )?one  hselend  gelyfan. 

15  ac  ic  wat  "p  "Sa  iudeas  I  J?a  my  eel  feoh  gegaderodon.  ^  sealdon 
J?am  cempon  ^  J>us  cwsedon.  We  bydda^  eow  leofe  geferan. 
•p  ge  |  secgan  swa  'p  hys  cnyhtas  comon  on  nyht.  ^  eow  | 
slsependum  );one  lychaman  forstselon.  ^  gif  hytl  ]?am  deman 
pilate  cu"S  by^.  we  beoi5  for  eow.  3  eow  |  orsorge  gedo^S. 

20  Da  cempan  ]>a  wseron  •p  feoh  on|fonde.    ^  swa  secgende.    swa 

hig  fraw  bam^  mdeum  gelserede  |  wseron.    Ac  eall  heora  sprsec 

weariS  geypped.    j  ge|wydmsBrsod.    3  fa  gelamp  nywan  ^ 

[*P.  16.]  ^ser  c6mon  j  of  galilean  to  hierusalem  fry  msere  weras.    se  *  | 

yldesta  wses  msessepreost.    3  his  nama  wses  fin^es.      y  his 

25  geferan  hatton  oiSer  aggeus.  3  oi5er  preceptor,  hig  sa3don  to 
fam  ealdrum.  ^  to  fam  msessepreostum.  ^  to  ealre  J?a3re 
gesomnunge.  fa5r  hig  to  fsera  iudea  syno^e  comon.  -p  hig 
j?one  onhangena  hselend  gelsawon.  *j  wy^S  hys  endlufon  leorn- 
ing  cnyhtas  spa3C.  |  ^  tomyddes  heom  sset.  on  oliuetis  munte 

30  "3  wses  heom  to  cweiSende.  Beo^  farende  eond  ealne  myd|dan 
geard.  ^  bodia^S  eallum  feodum  ^  hig  beon  gefullo|de.  on 
naman  fsederes  ^  suna  3  J> a3S  halgan  gastes.  |  "3  swa  hwylc 
swa  gelyfS.  ^  gefullod  byS.  se  by$  aefre  |  on  ecnysse  hal 
geworden.  3  fa  he  fys  to  his  leorjning  cnyhtum  gespecen 

35  hsefde.    we  gesawon  hu  |  he  wa3S  on  heofenas  astigende.    3  gif 


THE   OLD   ENGLISH   GOSPEL   OF   NICODEMUS.  487 

[Cotton  MS.  Vitelius  A.  15.] 

her  beforan.     Da  gejsseclon  3  swa  us  drihten  lybbe.    $seh  ge 
hyt    nyston  hwset  hyt  beheold.     Soft  hyt  ys  ]>set  |  J?e  sylfa 
drihten  3  se  so^fsesta  lufaft  J?e  ge  on   r6de  |  ahengen  y  we 
gehyrdon  ^  ssecgan  ty  ioseph  f>e  |  J?aes  helendes  lycaman  beby- 
5  rigde  ]?set  ge  hy|ne  6n  festre  clusan  beclysMon  3  p  loc  myd  | 
insaegle  macodon  ^  ]?a  ge  J>ser  toc6mon.    ftane  |  ne  fundon  ge 
hyne  na.    Ac  6n  eornost  |  syllon    ge  us  ioseph  $e  ge  on  pseffe 
[*Fol.  65b.]  clusan  beclysdon  *  |  3  we  wyllaft  eow  ftone  heiend  )>e  we  on 
•Ssere  byri|igene  healdan  seoldon.    Da  -jswarodon  ^a  iudejas  3 

10  cwsedon.  Ioseph  we  magan  begettan  |  for  "Sam  ioseph  ys  on 
hys  ceastre  arimathia.  |  Da  cwaBdon  J;a  cempam.  Gyf  ioseph 
ys  on  $a|re  ceastre  aramathia.  ^one  ssege  we  j?  se  he] lend 
ys  galilean  call  swa  we  gehyrdon.  Da  a|forhtedon  hyg  3 
cwa3dou.  hym  betwa3onan.  Gyf  ^eos  spdc  to  wyde  spring^ 

15  ealles  to  fala  |  wyle  on  ftone  heiend  gelyfan.  Ac  ic  waft  "p 
^a  iudeas  ty  mycel  feoh  gegaderodon.  ^  se|aldon  iSam  cempon 
-\  -Sus2 — cwaBdou.  We  |  bydda^S  eow  leofe  geferam  •p  ge  sa3c- 
gan  sw&.  |  p  hys  cnihtas  c6mon  6n  nyht.  3  eow  slep'pendum 
^one  lycaman  forstelon.  ^  gyf|hyt  ^am  d^man  pilate  cuiS 

20  by^.    we  b^oiS  j  for  eow.    3  eow  orsorge  gedoft.    Da  cempan  | 

[*Fol.  66a.]  ^a  wseron  ty  feoh  onfunde.    "3  sw^  secgende  swa  *  |  hyg  fram 

•Sam  iudeum  gelaBrede  waBrou.    Ac  call    heora   spaBC  wear^S 

geypped.    ^  gewyd|racersod  ^  hyt  )?a  gelamp  niwan  ty  iSer 

c6mon  |  of  galy learn3  to  hierusalem  $ri  matron  weras.    ^Se  | 

25  yldestan  WEBS  m^ssepreost  ^  hys  nama  wses  finei^s.  ^  hys 
geferan  hatton  o]?er  aggeus.  ^  o^er  perceptor.  Hyg  sa3don 
to  $am  ealdrum  ^  to  eal|re  J»a3re  gesomnunge.  ^a?r  hyg  to 
]>a3ra  iudea  |  syno^e  comon  •p  hyg  ^one  onhangena  heiend  | 
gessewon.  ^  wy^  hys  endleofan  leornigcnihtas  |  spsec.  3 

30  tomyddes  hym  sa3t  6n  oliuetis  raunte  |  ^  wees  hym  to  cwa3~S- 
ende.  BeoS  farende  eond  |  ealne  myddaueard.  ^  bodiaiS 
eallum  ^eodum  |  ^  hyg  beon  gefullode  6n  nama  fa3deres  ^  | 
suna.  3  J>ses  halegan  gastes  3  swa  hwylc  sw&  |  gelyfS  ^  ge- 
fullo^  by^.  Se  by$  aBfre  on  ecnisse  |  hal  geweordun.  ^  J?a 

1  s  above  line  in  MS.  *  Syllable  erased.  3  galyleam  MS. 


488  W.    H.    HULME. 

[Camb.  Univ.  Lib.  MS.  li.  ii,  11.] 

we  ];a  word  |  forsuwiaft.    ]?e  we  be  }>am  hselende  gesawon.    *j 

gehyrdon.      we  wyton  •p  we  synne  habbaft.    ]?a  ealdras.    y 

J?a  |  maassepreostas  ]>a  upastodon.    3  ]?urh  J>a  ealdan  |  33.    swyfte 

gehalsodon.    3  }>us  cwsedon.    we  wyllaiS  J  byddan  eow.    3  feoh 

5  syllaa.    wyiS  ]?am  iSe  ge  )?a  spseca  j-ealle  bedyglion.    ]?e  ge  be 

]>am  hselend  gespecen  |  habbaft.    )>a  bry  weras  heom  )>a  "jsware- 

don.    •}  ssedon  |  •}?  hig  swa  woldon.    3  ]?a  iudeas  heom  ]?a  J?ry 

[*P.  17.]   geferan  j  fundon.    -j?  hig  sceoldon  of  J>am  ryce  gebringan.*  |    'p 

hig  nane  hwyle  on  hierusalem  wunian  ne    moston.    ^  ealle  )?a 

10  iudeas  comon  toga3dere  J?a.  |  3  gesorunode  wEeron.  ^  ymbe 
•p  smeadon.  "3  j  cwa3don.  hwa3t  ty  tacen  beon  myhte.  j?  on 
ysra|hela  lande  geworden  wses.  anna  ^  caiphas  J>a  |  cwsedon. 
nys  hyt  nsefre  soft,  "p  we  gelyfan  sceolon  |  ]?am  cerapon  J>e  ftses 
hselendes  byrgene  healdan  |  sceoldon.  ac  ys  bet  wen  ]?  hys 

15  cnyhtas  comon  j  3  heom  feoh  geafon.  ^  J^aes  ha3lendes  licha- 
mau  |  aweg  namon.  Nichodemus  J>a  upastod  "j  ]?us  cwceft. 
wytaft  'f  ge  ryht  specon  be  ysrahela  bearnum.  |  wel  ge  ge- 
hyrdon hwset  }?a  J>ry  weras  sa3don  ]>e  \  of  galilean  comon  ]?a 
hig  ssedon  ^  hig  ]>one  hselend  gesawon.  uppan  oliuetis 

20  munte.  j  wyft  hys  leorning  cnyhtas  specende.  ^  hig  gejsawon 
hwar  he  waas  on  heofenas  astigeude.  |  Da  iudeas  ]>a  smeadon. 
hwar  se  wytega  wsere  |  helias  3  J>us  cwa3don.  hwar  ys  ure 
feeder  elias.  |  Heliseus  hym  ^swarode  ^  cwoeft.  he  ys  up 
ahafen.  |  ]?a  cwaadon  sume  j>e  ftar  amang  )?am  folce  stodon.  | 

25  J>e  wseron  wytegena  beam,    ac  wen  ys  f  he  sig  |  on  gaste  up 

ahafen.    3  on  uppan  ysrahela  |  muntum  geset.    ac  uton   us 

[*P.  18.]  weras  geceosan.*  |    ^  J?a  rnuntas  eond  faran.    weald  )?eah  we 

hyne  |  gemetan  magon.    ty  folc  baedon  )?a  heliseum  ^  ]?a  |  ylcan 

weras  ]?e  ftar  swa  spaacon  •}?  hig  swal  d6n  |  sceoldon.    *j  hig 

30  sona  eond  )?a  muntas  foron  |  ]?reora  daga  fa?c.  ac  hig  hyne 
nahwser  fyndan  |  ne  myhton.  ]>a  cwceft  nichodemus.  la  leof 
ge1  ysrahejla  bearn.  hlystaft  me.  3  uton  gyt  asendan  on  [ 
ysrahela  muntas.  weald  )?eah  se  gast.  ^  we  hyne  |  gemetau 
moton.  -3  hym  geeaftmedan.  Nychode|mus  ge]?eaht  ]?a  lycode 

1  In  MS.  y  above  line. 


THE   OLD    ENGLISH   GOSPEL   OF   NICODEMUS.  489 

[Cotton  MS.  Vitelius  A.  15.] 

he  fis1  to  hys  leorningcnih|ton  gespecen  hafodon.    we  gesawon 

[*Fol.  66b.]  hu  he  wses  *    on  heofenas  astigende.    3  gyf  we  J?a  weordu  |  for- 

suwia'S  ]>e  we  be  Sam  helende  gesawon  |  •}  we  hyrdon.    we 

wyton  •p  we  synne  habbaS.     Da  |  ealdras  ]>a  6pp  astodon  3 

5  ]?urh  Sa  ealdam.    sb.  \  swiSe  gehalsodon  y  ]?us  cwsedon.    wse 

wyllaS  |  bydda  e6w  *j  feoh  syllan  wyS  Sam  ]>e  ge  J?a  |  speca 

ealle  bedyglion  Se  ge  be  Sam  helende    gespecen  habba'S.     Da 

]?ri  weras  hym  }>a  cwse|don  j?  hyg  swa  woldon.    ^  |?a  iudeas 

hym  )?a  |  ]?ri  geferan  fundon  -f  hy  seoldon  of  'Sam  |  rice  ge- 

10  bringan.    •)?  hyg  nane  hwile  on  hierusa|lem  wunian  ne  moston. 

^  ealle  iudeas  )?a  hyg  |  gsedere  comon  ^  ymbe  )?8eS  smadon  ^ 

cwsedon    hwa3t  -p  tacen  beon   myhte  "j?  6n  yssraella  landa  | 

»gewordon  wses.    Annas.    ^  caiphas.    ]?a  cwsedon.  |     Nis  hyt 
nefre  so^.    "}>  we  lyfan  seolon.    );aui  cera|pon  J;e  ^es  helendes 

15  byrgene  healdam  sceol|don.    Ac  ys  bet  w£n  •p  hys  cnihtas 

[*Fol.  67a.]  comou  *    "3  heom  feoh  geafan  ^  J>a3S  helendes  lychaman  |  awaag 

nalmon.     Nichodemws  |?a  up  astod.    ^  )>us  |  cwaeS.    WytaS  "p 

ge  riht  specon  be  ysraela   bearnum.    Wei  ge  gehyrdon.    hwa3t 

Jja  ]>ri  we|ras  sedon.    ]>e  of  galilean  comon.    J?a  hyg  |  sedon 

20  J^set  hyg  ftone  helend  gesawon  6n  tip'pan  oliuetas  gemunte 
wy$  hys  leorning|cnihtas  specende  3  hyg  gesawon  hwa3r  he  | 
wa3S  6n  heofonas  astigeude.  Da  iudeas  J>a  smadon  hwser  se 
wytega  w^ron  elias.  3  f>us  |  cwsedon.  Hwaer  ys  ure  feeder 
elias.  Helyjseus  hym  "jswarode  ^  cwoe^.  he  ys  up  onhafen  [ 

25  fta  cwsedon  sume  j?e  ^er  amawg  J>am  folce  |  stodon.  "p  weron 
wytegena  beam.  Ac  wen  ys  "p  he2  sy  on  gaste  up  dnhafen. 
3  on  uppon  ysraela  muntum  gesett.  Ac  uton  us  wse|ras 
geceosau.  3  fta  muntas  geond  faran  |  weald  J>eh  we  hine 
gemetan  magon.  )?set  j  folc  bsedon  J;a  h^liseuw.  ^  'Sa  ylcam 

30  weras  *  |  -ge  $er  specon  swa.    ^  hyg  swa  don  sceoldon    3  hy 

-*  sona  geond  )?a  muntas  foron  ]?reora  |  dagena  fsec.    Ac  hy  hyne 

na  hwser  findan    ne  mihton.    Da  cwceS  nichodemws.    La  leof 

ysr|aela  beam   hlystaft   me  ^  uton  gyt  asen|dan  on  ysraela 

muntas  weald  }>eh  Se  gast  |  habbe  ]?one  helend  gelseht.    ^  we 

1  >is  above  line  in  MS.  $  Ae  corrected  from  hyg  MS. 


490  W.   H.   HULME. 

[Camb.  Univ.  Lib.  MS.  li.  ii,  11.] 

eallum  bam  folce.  3  hig  asen|don  ba  manige  weras.  3  bone 
haelend  sohton.  y  hyne  secende  nahwar  ne  fundon.  y  hym 
cyr|rende  ongean  comon.  3  bus  cweftende  waBron.  |  us  ymb- 
farendum  call  ysrahela  land,  we  bone  |  ha3lend  nahwar  ne 
5  gemetton.  Ac  we  gemetton  |  ioseph  on  arymathia  hys  agenre 
ceastre.  |  ba  $a  ealdras.  3  ba  msessepreostas.  ^  call  ^  folc  | 
bys  gehyrde.  ba  gefaBgnodon  hig  3  wuldor  |  sasdon  ysrahela 
gode.  ^  se  ioseph  be  hig  on  |  beere  clusan  beclysed  haBfdon 
waBS  funden.  j  3  gemett.  ^  folc  worhte  ba  mycele  gesom- 

10  nunga.  |    3   heom  betweonan   cwsedon.    ba   ealdras.    3   ba  | 

[^P.  19.]  maassepreostas.    la  on  hwylcere  endebyrdnysse  *  |  magon  we 

ioseph  to  us  gelaftian.    ^  hym  wyiS    specan.    hig  ba  swa  beah 

bebohton  •p  hig  hym   seofon  weras  gecuron.  be  iosepes  frynd  | 

wasron.    ^  hym  to  sendon.   3  ane  cartan  myd  hym.  |    seo  wa3S 

15  bus  awry  ten.  Syb  sig  myd  be  ioseph.  |  y  myd  eallum  be 
myd  be  syndon.  We  wyton  ^  we  |  gesyngod  habbaft  asg^Ser 
ge  on  god  ge  on  be.  ac  we  bydda^S  be  on  eornest.  •p  $u 
gemedemige  be.  ^  |  bu  cume  to  bynum  faBderum.  ^  to  bynum 
bearnum.  |  for  bon  be  ealle  wundria~S  bynre  upahafenjnysse* 

20  we  wyton  ^  we  awyrgedlic  gebanc  ongean  |  be  Sohton.  ac 
dryhten  be  onfeng.  ^  be  alysde  of  j  urum  awyrgedlicum  ge- 
beahte.  ac  syb  sig  myd  be  |  ioseph.  ^  gearwuriSod  wur<5  bu 
fram  eallum  folce.  |  ba  aarendracan  ba  foron.  ^  to  iosepe 
comon.  ^  |  hyne  gesybsumlice  gretton.  3  heora  gewryt  hym  | 

25  on  hand  sealdon.  And  ba  ioseph  ^  gewryt  ra3dde.  |  ba  cwo^S 
he.  Sig  gebletsod  se  dryhten  god.  se$e  me  alysde.  3  myn 
blod  nolde  Ia3tan  ageotan.  y  sig  gebletsod  sefte  me  under 
hys  fySerum  gescylde.  |  Ioseph  ba  u pasted.  3  ba  weras 
cyste.  y  hig  wur|$lice  underfeng.  ba  ^am  oftrum  da3ge.  ba 

30  wa3S  ioseph  |  farende   to   hierwsalem    myd  bam   aBrendracon. 

[*P.  20.]  ealle  *  |  uppan  heora  asson.    y  ba  iudeas  ba  hig  "j?  gehyr|don. 

ealle  ongean  union.    3  waBron  clypigende.  |    3  cweiSende.    La 

feeder  ioseph.     Syb  sig  myd  bynum  |  ingange.     Joseph  heom 

^swarode  ^  cwceft.     Syb  sig  myd  j  eallum  godes  folce.    3  hig 

35  J>a  hym  genealaahton.  |    3  hyne  cyston.    3  nichodemus  hyne 


THE   OLD   ENGLISH   GOSPEL   OF   NICODEMUS.  491 


I 
[Cotton  MS.  Vitelius  A.  15.] 
hyne   ge|metan    moton.    3    hym   to   gebugan.     Nichoderaws 
geftehft   )>a   licode   eallum   ftam    folce.     3  |  hyg   asendon    J?a 
manega  weras  ^  }>one  he|leiid  sohton  3  hyne  secende  nawar 
ne  fujndon  3  hym  cyrrende  on  eagan  c6mon  |  3  bus  cwseftende 
5   weron.    We  habbaft  $urh  |  faron  eall  ysraela  laud.    3  we  iSone 
helejnd  nahwar  ne  gemytton.    Ac  we  gemyt|ton  ioseph  6n 
arimathiga  hys  hagenre  |  ceastre.     Da  "Sa  ealdras.    ^  eall  •)? 
[*Fol.  68».]   folc  bys  *  |  gehyrdon  ba,  gefagenogde  hyg.    ^  wuldur  ssejdon 
ysraela  g6de.    f  "Se  ioseph  be  hyg  6n  *3e|re  clusan  beclysed 
10  hafedon.    wses  fundon  |  3  gemfet.    •]?  folc  geweorhte  raycele 
gesumjnvwge.    3  hym  betweonan  cwsedon.    fta  eald|ras  ^  J?a 
prostas.1     La  on  hwylcere  |  endebyrdnisse  magon  we  ioseph 
us   to  ge|laj;ian.     ^    hym    wy^   specon.     hyg   sw£   )?eh  |  ]?a 
be)?eohton.    ^   hyg   hym   seofon   w6ras    gecuron  |?e   iosepes 
15  frind  weron.    3  hym  |  to  send  on.    3  anae  cartan  myd  hym 
)>eo  |  wa3s  ^Sus  ^wfiten.     Syl?  sy  3u  myd2  ioseph.    ^  myd  | 
eallum  )?e  myd  J>e  syndon.    We  wyton  ty  \  we  syngod  habba^S. 
seiSer  ge  on  g6d  ge  6n  )?e.  |    Ac  we  bydda^  J?e  on  eornest.    ^ 
•Su  geme|demige  J?e  "p  ^u  cume  to  Jrinum   fa3de|rum.    ^   to 
20  -Sinum  bearnum  for  iSam  WQ  eal|le  wundriaiS  )?ynre  up  6n 
[*Fol.  68b.]  hafenisse.    we  *  |  wyton  "p  we  awyrgedlic  geftanc  6ngean  )?e 
]?ohton.    Ac  drihten  J?e  6nfeng  ^  )?e  alys|de  of  urum  awyr- 
gedlican  gefteahte.    Ac    sy  myd  J>e  ioseph  3  gearwurj?od  wur^ 
J>u  |  fram  ealle  folce.    Ba  erendracan  J>a  forou  |  y  to  iosepe 
25  c6mon  ^  hine  gesybsumlice  gret|ton  ^  heora  gewrit  him  6n 
handan  sealdon.  |    Ac  )?a  ioseph  f  gewrit  redde  $a  cwa3t  he. 
Sy  gebletsod  se  drihten  god  se  J>e  me  alisde  |  3  min  bldd 
nolde   letan   ageotan  3    sy  geblet|so$   se  )?e  me  under  hys 
fe-Serum  gescyl|de.     Ioseph  )?a  up  astod.    3  J>a  weras  kiste  ^  | 
30  hy  wuri5lice  underfeng.    Da  )?am  o^rum  |  da3ge  ]?a  wa3S  ioseph 
farende  to  Jerusalem    myd  )?arn  erendracan  ealle  on  uppan  | 
heora  assum.    ^  )?a  iodeas  ];a  hyg  ]?a3t  |  gehyrdon.    hyg  ealle 
[*Fol.  69a.]   ongean  urnon    y  weron  cwa3$ende.     La  feder  ioseph.*  |     Syb 
sy  myd  |?e  ioseph  myd  ]>inum  ingange.  |    Ioseph  hym  -jswarode 

:A  word  erased  before  prostas  in  MS.  *myd  above  line  in  MS. 


492  W.   H.    HULME. 

[Camb.  Univ.  Lib.  MS.  li.  ii,  11.] 

ba  myd  wurSjscype.  ham  to  hys  huse  afeng.  bam  o$rum 
dsege  fta.  |  annas.  3  caiphas.  ^  nichodemus.  cwsedon  to 
iosepe.  |  L£  we  byddaiS  be.  ^  ftu  sylle  andetnysse  bam 
soiSan  |  gode.  ^  geswutela  us  ealle  )?a  ]>yng  be  $u  fram  us  | 

5  acsod  byst.  3  sege  us  merest.  Jm  fte  bses  hselendes  lyc|haman 
byrigdest.  hu  bu  of  bsere  clusan  come,  be  |  we  on  beclysed 
hsefdon.  for  bam  we  bses  swa  swy$e  wundrigende  wseron. 
3  .us  fyrhto  gegrap.  ba  35a  |  we  be  habban  woldon.  •)?  we  be 
nsefdon.  "3  geswutela  us  call  hu  hyt  be  fte  geworden  ys. 

10  Joseph  hym  |  ^swarode  3  cwceiS.  efne  ic  swa  wylle.  hyt  wses 
on  dseg  |  ba  ge  me  beclysdon.  set  bam  gewordenan  sefne.  ic 
on  myne  gebedn  feng.  3  hig  georne  sang.  o$  |  hyt  to  bsere 
myddere  nyhte  com.  ba  wses  -p  hus  |  be  bam  feower  hyrnum 
up  ahafen.  ^  ic  ba  bone  hse|lend  geseah  call  swylce  hyt  lig- 

15  rsesc  wsere.    y  ic  j  for  J>am  ege  ny<5er  on  ba  eorSau  afeoll.    } 

21.]   he  *  |  me  be  bsere  handan  heold  3  up  ahof  3  me  cyste.  |    3  cwceS 

to  me.    ne  ondrsed  bu  'Se  na  ioseph  beseoh  [  on  me.    3  ongit  ^ 

ic  hyt  com.    ba  beseah  ic  3  cwceS.  |    eart  bu  la  lareow  helias. 

]?a  cwce^  he  to  me.    ac  ic    eom  se  hselend.    be  "Su  his  lycha- 

20  man  byrigdest.  |  Da  cwceiS  ic  to  hym.  setyw  me  ba  byrgene 
hwser  ic  |  be  lede.  Se  hselend  ba  be  bsere  ryht  handa  me  | 
genam.  ^  me  ut  Isedde  to  arimathia.  on  myn  |  agen  hus.  y 
cwreS  to  me.  Syb  sig  myd  ]>e  ioseph.  y  ne  |  far  bu  of  bynum 
huse  ser  on  bon  feowertuge^an  |  daeg.  ic  wylle  gan  to  mynum 

25  leorning  cnyhtum.  |  ba  "Sa  iudeas  eall  bys  gehyrdon.  ba 
aforhtojdon  hig.  3  sume  adun  feollon.  y  heom  betwynan  | 
cweedon.  Hwset  mseg  bys  tacen  beon  be  on  ysrajhela  lande 
geworden  ys.  We  cunnon  bses  hse|lendes  seg-Ser  ge  fseder  ge 
moder.  Ioseph  ba  upjastod.  ^  cwoe^  to  annam.  3  to  caiphan. 

30  to  so^on  |  wel  hyt  ys  to  wundrianne.    ty  ge  be  bam  hselende  | 

gehyred  habbaft.    -p  he  of  dea^e  aras.    -j  lyfigende  |  on  heofenas 

astah.    y  na  ^  he  ana  of  deaiSe  |  aryse.    ac  he  fsela  manna  of 

dea$e  awehte.  |    y  hig  of  heora  byrgene  arserde.    3  hlysta^ 

.  22.]   me  |  nu  $a.    ealle  we  cu^on  ]?one  eadegan  symeon.*  |    3  bone 

35  mseran  msessepreost  be  -Sone  hselend  |  serost  on  hys  earrnum 


THE   OLD  ENGLISH   GOSPEL  OF  NICODEMUS.  493 

[Cotton  MS.  Vitelius  A.  15.] 

1  cwset.  Syb  sy  myd  |  ealles  godes  folce.  And  hy  ];a  hym 
genejalehton.  y  hyne  kiston  -3  nichodemws  |  hyne  J;a  myd 
wurSscipe  h£rn  to  hys  huse  |  afeng.  Dam  oftrum  dsege  j?a 
annas.  3  caiphas.  -3  nichodemws.  cwsedon  to  iosepe.  we  | 
5  byddaft  J>e  ]?set  Jm  sille  andetnisse.  j>am  \  softan  gode.  -3 
geswutela  us  ealle.  ]?a  "Sing  |  J?e  $u  fram  us  geahxod  byst  -3 
sege  us  serest  Jm  ]?e  ftses  helendes  lychaman  bebiridest  hu  Jm 
of  "Sere  clusan  c6me  J?e  we  J?e  &n  beclysde.  hafodon  for  $am 
we  J?ses  sw&  |  swrSe  wundriende  weron.  -3  us  fyrhto  |  gegrap 

10  J?a  ];a  we  }?e  habban  weoldon  J?set  |  we  J?e  nafoden  -3  geswutela 
us  call  hu  |  hyt  be  J?e  gewordon  ys.     Joseph  cwset.  |     Efene  ic 
[*Fol.  69b.]   swa  wylle.    Hyt  wses  6n  daeg  J?a  *  |  ge  me  beclysdon.    set  J>am 
gewordenan  sefejne.    Ic  6n  mine  gebedu  feng.    -3  hyg  georne  | 
sang  o^  hyt  to  ftere  myddere  nyhte  com.  |    J>a  wses  $  hus  be 

15  -Sam  feower  hyrnum  up  6n|hafen.  3  ic  J>a  ftone  helend  ges^h 
call  swyjlc  hyt l  lygrsesc  waare.  ^  ic  for  "Sam  sege  ni^er  on 
Sa  eor^an  afeoll.  ^  he  me  be  |  handan  heold  ^  up  anh6f  "3 
me  kiste.  "3  j  cwset  to  me.  Ne  andret  ]ni  J?e  na  ioseph.  | 
beseoh  6n  me.  "3  ongyt  ]?set  ic  hyt  eom.  |  Da  beseah  ic  "3 

20  cwcet.  Earf5  J?u  lal  lar^ewa  ell | as.  Da  cwset  he  to  me.  Ne 
eom  ic  na  ellas.  |  Ac  ic  eom  de  helend  J>e  fte  J>u  hys  lychama  | 
bebyridest.  ^a  cwast  ic  hym.  Ctyyj;  me  ]?a  |  byrgene  hwser  ic 
)?e  onlede.  Se  helend  J>a  be  ^ere  riht  handa  me  genam.  -3 
me  ut  j  alsedde  to  arimathia  on  min  agen  tis  y  \  cwset  to  me. 

25  Syb  sy  myd  ioseph.    "3  ne  far  *  |  3u  of  ^inum  huse  ne  ser  6n 

J   "Sone  f^wertegej^am  dseg.    ic  wiile  gan  to  minum  leornigcniht- 

on.       Da  |?a  iudeas  eall  ftis  gehyrdon.    'Sa  geafor|htodon  hyg 

•3  sume  adun  feollon.    "3  him  be|twsenan  cwsedon.    Hwset  mseg 

^is  taen  beon  ( $e  6n  israela  lande  geweordon  ys.    We  cunnun  | 

30  ]?8es  helend  seg^er  ge  feder  ge  moder.  Joseph  |  ];a  upastod. 
•3  cwset  to  annan.  ^  caiphan.  to  so'Sj^an  wel  hyt  ys  to 
wundrienne  ty  ge  be  'Sam  |  helende  gehyred  habba~S  ^  he  of 
deafte  a|ras  "3  lifigende  on  heofenas  astah  "3  na  ^  he  |  aim 
of  deafte  arise  ac  fala  manna  of  dea|$e  awehte.  3  hyg  6n 

1  Two  words  erased  after  hyt  in  MS. 


494  W.    H.    HULME. 

[Camb.  Univ.  Lib.  MS.  li.  ii,  11.] 

into  bam  halgan  temple  |  bser.  3  ealle  we  wyton  'p  he  twegen 
suna  haBfde.  |  ba  wseron  hatene.  se  ofter  carinus.  3  se  ofter 
leti|ticus.  3  ealle  we  "p  wyton  J?  hig  deade  wseron.  3  we  |  to 
heora  byrgyne  coruon.  uton  eac  nu  gan.  3  we  |  magon  heora 
5  byrgena  opene  fyndan.  3  hig  synd  |  on  bad  re  ceastre  ary- 
mathia.  samod  gebyddende  |  ^  wyiS  nanne  man  sprecende. 
•j  swylce  swigean  |  healdende.  swa  j?  hig  wy$  nanne  man  ne 
sprecaft.  |  Ac  uton  we  gan  "j  cuman  to  heom  myd  eallum 
wur$|rnynte.  j  gelaBdan  hig  to  us.  3  hig  georne  halsian.  | 

10  j?  hig  wy$  us  sprecon.  ^  us  atellon  ealle  ba  gerynu  |  be  be 
heora  seryste  gewordene  syndon.  pa  fta  ioseph  j  eall  bys  bus 
gesprecen  hsefde.  ^  folc  hym  wa?s  geblissijgende.  ^j  to  ari- 
mathia  ba3re  ceastre  farende.  ^  ba3r  |  gewytan  woldon  hwadSer 
hit  sob  wasre  ty  ioseph  gesprecen  hffifde.  ac  ba  "Sa  hig  byder 

15  comon.  ba  eodon  |  to  ba3re  byrgene.  annas.  ^  caiphas.  ^ 
Nichodemus.  ^  ioseph.  ^  gamaliel.  Ac  hig  bser  naenne 
man  on  ne  fundon.  Hig  wsaron  ba  innor  on  ba  ceastre 
gangende.  |  3  hig  hig  gemetton  on  gebede  licgan  myd  gebi- 
gedum  cneowum.  |  ^  hig  hig  sona  cyston.  ^  myd  ealre 

20  arwurSunge.*  |  3  myd  godes  ege  hig  to  heora  gesomnunge 
to  lueritsalern  geladddon.  3  beer  in  belocenum  gatum.  hig 
wseron  ny|mende  ba  boc  be  seo  drihtenlice.  £  wass  on  awry  ten  j 
•j  hym  on  hand  setton  y  bus  cwa3don.  We  halsiaft  |  eow  burh 
baane  uplican  god  3  burh  bas  dryhtenjlicau.  se.  be  ge  on 

25  handan  habbaS.  ^  gif  ge  gelyfon  |  on  bone  ylcan  be  eow  of 
deaiSe  awehte.  secga~S  us  |  hu  ge  of  deafte  arysene  wurdon. 
karinus.  3  leuticus.  |  heom  -jswaredon  3  bus  cwaedon.  we 
wyllab  eac.  sylla-ft  |  us  eac  ba  cartan  ^  we  hyt  magon  on 
awrytan.  fy  ^aBt  we  |  gehyrdon.  ^  eac  gesawon.  ba  ealdras 

30  ba  3  ba  maasselpreostas  heom  cartan  fundon.  ^  eall  ^  iSa3r  to 
gebyrede. )  karinus.  3  leuticus.  heom  wa3ron  ba.  ^a  cartan 
onfonde.  |  heora  a3g-Ser  ane.  3  bus  cwaBdon.  La  dryhten 
haelenda  |  cryst.  bu  eart  lif  3  SBrest  ealra  deadra.  we  byd- 
daiS  |  be  -p  -Su  us  gebafige  -p  we  magou  ba  godcundan  gejrynu 

35  geswutelian  be  gewordene  syndon  burh  bynne  |  deaiS.    ^  burh 


THE   OLD   ENGLISH   GOSPEL   OF   NICODEMUS.  495 


I 
[Cotton  MS.Vitelius  A.  15.] 
heora  byrgene  arerjde.    And  hlystaft   me  nu  $a.    ealle  we 
cuj>on  |  J>one  eadian  syraeom  •j  j>one  meeran  j  massepreost  l  ]>Q 
•Sone  helend  erost  6n  his  |  earmuD  into  j^am  halgan  temple 
[*Fol.  70b.]   beer  |  3  ealle  we  witon  ]?get  he  twegen  suna  ha*|fodon.    ]>a, 
5  weeron  hatene.    J?e  o$er  karinus.  \  "j  se  o$er  leuticus.    ^  ealle 
we  "p  wyton  •p  |  hyg  deade  weron.    ^  we  to  heora  byrge|ne 
comon.    uton   eac   nu    gan  ^   magon    heolra   byrgene  opene 
findan  3  hyg  sindon  |  6n  j?sere  castre  arimathia  samod  gejbyd- 
dende  ^  wiiS  nanne  man  specen|de  3  swilce  svvigan  healdende 
10  swa  'p  hyg  |  wi$  nanne  man  ne  specaiS.    Ac  utou  we  |  gan  j 
cutnan  to  him  myd  eallum  wurSjminte  ~]  geledan  hyg  to  us 
3  hyg  eor|ne  halsian  ]?set  hyg  wiiS  us  specon  3  us  |  atellan  ealle 
gerlnu  J^e  be  heora  seriste  |  gewordone  sindon.     Da  )?a  ioseph 
call    J^is  ^us  gespecon  heefede  ty  folc  hym  wes  j  geblyssigende 
15  3  to  arimathia  J>a3re  |  cseastre  farende  ^  J^ser  witan  weolden  | 
[*Fol.  7la.]   hwe^er  hyt  soft  wsere.    ty  ioseph  gespec*  en  hsefedon.    Ac  J?a 
^a  hyg  3ider  comon.  |    ^a  eode  to  J>a3re  byrgenne.    Annas  |  ^ 
caiphas.     Nichodemws.    ^  ioseph.    ^  |  Gamaliel,    ac  hyg  3er 
nanne  man  6n  ne  |  fundun.    Hyg  eode  }>a  innor  6n  ]>a  ceastre.  | 
20  "J  ny  nJg  gemetton  on  gebede  licgan   myd    gebygede  cnse- 
awuw.    ^  hy  hig  sona  kiston.  |    ^  myd  ealre  arwurSuuge  ^ 
myd   godes   £ge  |  hyg    to   heora   gesomnunga  to  hierusalew 
gejlseddon.    "j  J>a3r  in  belocenum  gatum  hyg  WRB  ron  nimende 
•Sa  boc  ]>e  seo  drihtenlice.    ^e  |  wa3S  on   writen.    ^  hym   on 
25  hand  setton.    ^    )?us  cwsedon.    Wse  halsiga^  eow  J?ur3  ^one 
up|plican  g6d  3  ];ur3  J^as  drihtenlican.    £.  \    ]>Q  ge  6n  handau 
habbaft  •p  gyf  ge  gelyfon  |  on  J>ane  ylcan  );e  eow  of  deafte 
awehte.      secga^  us  hu  ge  of  dea^e  arissene  wurdon.      Kari- 
[*Fol.  71b.]   n^s.    -3  Leuticus.    hym  ^swaredon.    -j  )?us  *  |  cwaedon.     We 
30  willaft  eac.    Sylla^  us  iSa  cartan  |  ^  we  hyt  magon  on  awritan. 
^  J7set  |  we  gehyrdon  3   eac  gesawon.     Da  |  ealdras  $a  him 
kartau    fundun.    -j    eall  |  ^   ^ser   to  gebyrede.     Carinus.    ^ 
Leuticus.  |   hym  waeron  |?a  ^a  kartan  6n  fundon  he|ora  seg^er 
ana.    ^j  )?us  cwsedon.     La  drihten  |  helend  crist.     Du  earS 

1  massepreost  MS. 


496  W.    H.    HULME. 

[Camb.  Univ.  Lib.  MS.  li.  ii,  11.] 

byne  seryste.    la  i$u  myldosta  hlaford.  |    bu  $e  forbude  bynum 

beowum  •]?  hig  ba  godcundan  rnserSa  |  bynes  diglan  msegen- 

brymmes  geswutelian  ne  moston.  |     we  byddaft  be  alyf  hyt 

us.    heom  com  J>a  stefen  of  heofenum.  |    3  wses  bus  cweftende. 

5  wry ta$  "j  geswuteliaft  hyt.    hig  ba    swa  dydon.    Karinus.    3 

[*P.  24.]  leuticus.    bus  hyt  a  wry  ton  *  |  y  bus  cwsedon.     Efne  ba  we 

wseron  myd  eallum  urum  |  fsederum.    on  bsere  hellican  deop- 

nysse.    bser  becom  seo    beorhtnys  on  bsere  beostra  dymnysse 

•)?    we   ealle   eondjlyhte   3    geblyssigende   wseron.     bser   wses 

10  fseringa  gejworden  on  ansyne  swylce  bser  gylden  sunna 
onseled  wsere.  3  ofer  us  ealle  eondlyhte.  ^  satanas  ba  ^  eall 
^  |  re$e  werod  wseron  afyrhte.  3  bus  cwsedon.  hwset  ys  | 
J>ys  leoht  ^  her  ofer  us  swa  fserlice  scyne^.  ba  wses  j  sona 
eall  •p  mennisce  cynn  geblyssigende.  ure  fseder  adam  myd 

15  eallum  heah  fsederum.  ^  myd  eallum  wytegum.  |  for  bsere 
myclan  beorhtnysse.  3  hig  bus  cwsedon.  |  bys  leoht  ys  ealdor 
bses  ecan  leohtes.  eall  swa  us  |  dryhten  behet.  "p  he  us  "j?  ece 
leoht  onsendan  wolde.  |  ba  clypode  ysaias  se  wytega  3  cwce$. 
bys  ys  "j?  fsederlice  |  leoht.  3  hyt  ys  godes  sunu.  eall  swa  ic 

20  foressede  j  ba  ic  on  eor^an  wses.  ba  ic  cwceiS  ^  forewitegode. 
•p  ^set  |  land  zabulon.  y  •p  land  neptalim.  wyft  ba  ea  iordaj- 
nen.  3  'p  folc  "p  on  bam  bystrum  sset  sceoldon  msere  |  leoht 
geseon.  3  ba  fte  on  dymmum  ryce  wunedon  |  ic  witegode  "p 
hig  leoht  sceoldon  onfon.  ^  nu  hyt  |  ys  tocumen.  ^  us  onlyht 

25  ba   -Se   gefyrn   on   deaftes  |  dymnysse   sseton.    ac  uton   ealle 

geblyssian  bses  leohtes.  |     Se  wytega  ba  symeon  heom  eallum 

[*P.  25.]  geblyssigendum.*  |    heom  to  cwceft.    wuldriaiS  bone  dryhten 

cryst  godes  sunu.  |    bone  be  ic  bser  on  mynum  earmum  into 

bam  temple.  |    y  ic  ba  ^us  cwoe^.    bu  eart  leoht  3  frofer  eal- 

30  lum  beodum.  ^  bu  eart  wuldor  ^  wur^mynt  eallum  ysrahela 
folce.  |  Symeone  ]?a  ftus  gesprecenum.  eall  -p  werod  bsera  | 
halgena.  ba  wear^  swySe  geblyssigende.  and  sefter  bam  | 
bser  com  swylce  bunres  siege.  3  ealle  ba  halgan  ongean  | 
clypodon  -3  cwsedon  hwset  eart  bu.  Seo  stefen  heom  -jswa- 

35  rode  ^  cwceS.    ic  com  iohannes  bses  hehstan  witega.  |    3  ic 


THE   OLD    ENGLISH    GOSPEL   OF    NICODEMUS. 


497 


[Cotton  MS.  Vitelius  A.  15.] 

lyf.  3  aerist  ealra  deadra.  We  byddaft  pe  "p  ftu  us  geftafige  | 
•)?  we  magon  pa  godcundan  gerinu  geswujtelian  pe  geword^ne 
syndon.  pur$  iSinne  |  deaiS  3  purh  iSine  aeriste.  La  pu 
mildesta  j  hlaford  pu  'Se  forbude  pinum  fteowum  "p  hy  |  $a 
5  godcumdan  maerpa  pines  digelam  n?agen"Srimmes  geswutelian 
ne  moston  we  |  bydda$  pe  alyf  hyt  us.  Him  com  pa  ha  | 
stefen  of  heofenum.  3  waes  pus  cweftende.  Writaft  3  ge- 
fFol.  72a.]  swuteliaft  hyt.  hyg  pa  swa  *  [  didon.  Karinws  ^  leuticus  ftus 
hyt  awriton  |  y  cwsedon.  Softlice  $a  we  weron  myd  eallum  | 
urum  federum  on  ftaere  haellican  deopnisse  |  paer  becom  peo 
beorhtnisse  6n  Saere  pi|stra  dymnesse  paet  we  aealle  geondlihte  | 
•3  geblissigende  weron.  Da  waes  feringa  gejweordon  on  ansine 
swilce  pa3r  gylden  sunjna  6useled  waere  3  ofer  us  ealle  geond|- 
lihte.  3  satanas  pa  3  eall  'p  re$e  werod  waajron  afirhte  y 
pus  cwaedon.  Hwset  ys  pis  |  leoht  ^  her  ofer  us  swa  ferlice 
scyneft.  |  Da  waes  sona  eall  -p  mennisce  cynn.  gejblissigende 
ure  faeder  adam  myd  eallum  |  heah federum.  ^  myd  eallum 
witegum  for  "Saere  micelan  beorhnisse  y  hyg  pus  cwaejdon. 
Dis  Jeoht  ys  ealdor  paes  aecan  leoh|tes  eall  swa  us  drihten 
baehet.  paet  he  us  |  past  aece  leoht  asendan  wolde.  Da  clypode  *  | 
isaias  se  witega  3  cwc^.  -Sis  £s  pset  faederlice  leoht  |  3  hit  ys 
godes  sunu  eall  swa  ic  foresede  pa  |  pa  ic  on  eorSan  waes  pa  ic 
cwaet  3  forwitegojde  f  ty  land  Zabulon.  3  paet  land  neptalim.  | 
wyft  pa  ea  iordanen  ^  •p  folc  'p  on  ^am  ftisltrum  saat  seoldon 

25  maare  leoht  geseon  |  3  pa  pe  on  dimmum  rice  wunedon  ic 
wite|gode  "p  hyg  leoht  sceolden  onfon.  j  nu  hyt  ys  tocumen. 
3  us  onlyht  pa  ^e  gefyrn  on  |  dea'Ses  dimnisse  saeton.  Ac  uton 
ealle  blissi|an  paes  leohtes.  Se  witega  pa  simeon  hym  |  eallum 
geblissigendum  hym  to  cwaet.  Wuldria-5  |  pone  drihten  godes 

30  sunu  -$one  pe  ic  baer  on  |  minum  earmum  into  pam  temple,    "j 
ic  pa  |  pus  cwaet.     Du  ear$  leoht  y  frofor  eallum  |  -Seodum. 
•3  ^u  earS  wuldor  y  wuriSmint  |  eallum  israela  folce.    Symeone 
$a  -Sus  ge|specenum  eall  paet  werod  ftaere  halgena  pa  |  weari5 
[*Fol.  73».]   swi^Se  geblissigende.    And  sefter  ftam  paer  *  |  com  swilce  punres 
siege  3  ealle  pa  halgan  on  |  egan  clypoden  3  cwaedon.     Hwaet 
4 


[*Fol.  72b.] 


498  W.   H.    HULME. 

[Camb.  Univ.  Lib.  MS.  li.  ii,  11.] 

com  cumen  toforan  hym.  *p  ic  his  wegas  gegearwian  sceal. 
3  geican  ba  hsele  hys  folces.  Adam  ba  |  wses  bys  gehyrende. 
•3  to  his  suna  cweftende.  se  wses  genemned  seth.  he  cwseS 
gerece  bynum  bearnum.  3  |  bysum  heahfsederum  ealle  ba 
5  "Sing  be  $u  frara  |  ruychaele  bam  heahengle  gehyrdesfc. 
ba  "Sa  ic  be  |  asende  to  neorxna  wanges  geate.  ^  Su  sceoldest  | 
dryhten  byddan.  -p  he  myd  be  his  engel  asende.  |  ^  he  be 
•gone  ele  syllan  sceolde.  of  bam  treowe  bsere  |  myldheortnysse. 
•j?  ftu  myhtest  mynne  lychaman  |  myd  gesmyrian.  ba  8a  ic 

10  myd  eallum  untrum   wses.       Seth  adames  sunu  wses  ba  to 

genealsecende.    |?am  |  halgum  heahfsederum  ^  bam  wytegum. 

3  wses  cweftende.     Efne    ba  ic  wses  dryhten  byddende  set 

[*P.  26.]   neorxnawanges  *  geate.   ba  sety wde  me  michael  se  heah  engel. 

3  me  |  to  cwceS.     Ic  eom  asend  fram  dryhtne  to  fte.    ~\  ic  eom 

15  gesett  |  ofer  ealle  mennisce  lichamau.  Nu  secge  ic  be  seth  | 
ne  bearft  bu  swincan  byddende  ne  byne  tearas  |  ageotende.  ^ 
•Su  burfe  biddan  bone  ele  of  bam  |  treowe  bsere  myldheort- 
nysse. •)?  ^u  adam  bynne  |  fseder  myd  smyrian  mote,  for 
his  lichaman  sare.  for  bam  3e  gyt  ne  syndon  gefyllede 

20  ba  fif  busend  wyntra.  ^  ba  fif  hund  wyntra.  be  sceolon 
beon  |  agane  ser  he  gehseled  wurSe.  ac  bonne  cymft  se  my  Id 
heortesta  cryst  godes  sunu.  3  gelset  bynne  fseder  adam  on 
neorxna  wang  to  bam  treowe  bsere  |  myldheortnysse.  pa  ftys 
wseron  call  gehyrende  |  ealle  ba  heah  fsederas.  "3  ba  wytegan. 

25  "j  ealle  ba  |  halgan  be  bser  on  bam  cwicsusle  waaron.  hig 
wseron  swyfte  geblyssigende.  ^  god  wuldrigende.  Hyt  wses 
swy^e  angrislic.  ba  $a  satanas  bsere  helle  ealdor.  |  "j  baes 
dea^es  heretoga  cwseS  to  bsere  helle  ge|gearwa  be  sylfe  $  ¥>u 
msege  cryst  onfon.  se  hyne  |  sylfne  gewuldrod  hsef^.  ^  ys 

30  godes  sunu  |  ^  eac  man.  ^  eac  se  dea$  ys  hyne  ondrsedende.  | 
•j  rnyn  sawl  ys  swa  unrot  •p  me  binc^  ^  ic  alybban  |  ne  mseg. 
for  big  he  ys  my  eel  wyfterwymia  3  yfel  j  wyrcende  ongean 
[*P.  27.]  me.  "j  eac  ongean  be  ^  fsela*  |  be  ic  hsefde  to  me  gewyld.  3 
to  atogen  blynde.  3  |  healte.  gebygede  y  hreoflan  ealle  he 
fram  be  atyh~S.  |  Seo  hell  ba  swiiSe  grymme.  3  swy^e  ege- 


THE  OLD  ENGLISH  GOSPEL  OF   NICODEMUS.  499 

[Cotton  MS.  Vitelius  A.  15.] 

earS  |?u.  Seo  |  stefen  hym  "jswarode  3  cwset.  Ic  eom  iohannes  | 
]?ses  hehstan  witega  3  ic  eom  comen  to  foron  |  hym  •p  ic  hys 
wegas  gegearrian  sceal  3  geycan  |  J?a  h£le  hys  folcis.  Adam 
]?a  wses  ]?is  gehejrende  3  to  hys  suna  cwseSende  J?e  wes  gejnem- 
5  net  seth.  He  cwset  rece  Jnnum  bsearnum  |  3  J?isum  heahfederuw 
ealle  p>a  'Sing  }>e  Jm  |  fram  michaele  }>am  heahengle  gehyrdest.  | 
Da  J?a  ic  J?e  asende  to  neorxene  wanges  geate  ^  iSu  sceoldest 
drihten  byddam  fset  he  myd  |  $e  hys  engel  asende  ];set  he 
J>ane  ele  sillan  |  sceoldon  of  ftam  trewe  ftsere  mildheornisse  | 

10  ]?get  mihtest  minne  licaman  myd  gesmi|rian.    $a  j?a  ic  myd 

eallum   untrumme   wses.  |      Seth   adames   sunn   wa3S   -Sa   to 

[*Fol.  73b.]  geneala3cende  *  |  )?am  halgum  heahfsederum  -3  )?am  witegum  |  3 

wses   cwse^ende.     Efene   ]?a   ic   wses   drihten  |  byddende   a3t 

neorxeuawanges  geate.     Da  |  aBtywde  michael  se  heahengel. 

15  tl  me  to  cwce£.  |  Ic  eom  asend  fram  drihtene  to  $e  ic  eom  | 
ges^t  ofor  ealle  menissce  lichaman.  Nu  sse|cge  ic  )?e  sethne 
-Sear^ft  J?u  swincan  byd|dende  ne  win  tearas  ageotende  J?set  ]?u 
};u|rfe  byddan  )?one  ele  of  'Sam  trewe  ^Ssere  mil|heordnisse  ^ 
^u  adam  -ginne  fseder  myd  |  smirian  mote.  For  his  lichaman 

20  sare  for  |  ^am  we  gyt  ne  sindon  gefyllode  )?a  fif  3u|s8end 
wintra  ^  J>a  fyf  hund  wintra  -Se  sce|olde  beon  agam  ser  he  ge- 
heled  wurSe.  Ac  |  Sanne  cymiS  seo  milheordnist  crist  godes  | 
sunn.  3  gelsbt  "Sinne  fseder  adam  6n  neor|xenawanga  to  "Sam 
treowe  |  )?sere  mildheor|nisse.  Da  ]?is  wseron  hyrende  eall§ 

2g  heah*|fsederas  -3  );a  witegau  ^  ealle  halgan  ]?e  "Ser  |  on  ftam 
cwicsusle  wseron.  Hyg  wseron  swrSe  gejblissigende  3  god 
wuldrigende.  Hyt  wses  )?a  |  swrSe  angrislic  |?a  )?a  satanas 
'Ssere  helle  eal|dor.  ^  ]?ses  dea'Ses  h^retogan  cwset  to  "Ssere  | 
helle.  Gegearwa  J>e  sylfe  J?set  "Su  mage  crist  |  afon  se  hyne 

80  silfne  gewuldrod  hsef<5  y  ys  godes  |  sunu  ^  seac  man  3  eac  se 
dea$  ys  hine  ondre|dende  ^  min  sawel  ys  swa  unrot.  J>set 
me  |  ]?ingft  |;set  ic  libban  ne  mseg.  for  ftig  he  ys  micjcel 
wi'Serwinna  ^  ifelwyrcende  ongean  me.  |  ^  eac  ongean  ]?e.  ^ 
fsela  ~Se  ic  hsefede  to  me  |  willd.  "3  toatogon  blinde  ^  halte 

85  gebigede    ^  hreflan  ealle  he  fram  ]>e  atih)?.     Deo  hell  |  "Sa 


500  W.   H.   HULME. 

[Camb.  Univ.  Lib.  MS.  li.  ii,  11.] 

slice  -jswaro|de  ba  satanase  bam  ealdan  deofle  y  cwceft.  hwaet 
ys  |  se  be  ya  swa  strang  y  swa  myhtig  gif  he  man  ys.  |  p 
he  ne  sig  bone  deaft  ondraedende  be  wyt  gefyrn  j  beclysed 
haefdon.  for  bam  ealle  fa  $e  on  eoriSan  |  an  weald  haefdon. 
5  bu  hig  myd  bynre  myhte  to  me  |  getuge.  3  ic  hig  faeste 
geheold.  3  gif  bu  swa  myhtig  |  eart  swa  bu  ser  waere.  hwset 
ys  se  man.  3  se  haelend  |  be  ne  sig  bone  dea$  3  byne  myhte 
ondraedende.  |  ac  to  soiSon  ic  wat.  gif  he  on  mennyscnysse 
swa  j  myhtig  ys.  p  he  na^er  ne  unc  ne  -gone  dea$  ne  |  ondraet. 

10  ^  ic  wat  -p  swa  myhtig  he  ys  on  godcund|nysse.  -p  hym  ne 
maeg  nan  fyng  wyiSstandan.  |  ^  ic  wat  gif  se  deaft  hyne 
ondraet.  bonne  gefohft  he  |  be.  ^  be  by^  aefre  wa  to  ecere 
worulde.  Satanas  |  ba  baes  cwycsusles  ealdor.  baere  helle 
•jswarode  ^  bus  cwcciS.  hwaet  twynaft  be.  o^i5e  hwsat 

15  ondraetst  |  bu   ^e  bone   haeleud  to  onfonne.    mynne  wy^er- 

wynnan.    3    eac   bynne.    for   bon    ic ,  hys   costnode.       3    ic 

[*P.  28.]   gedyde  hym  f  eal  •p  iudeisce  folc  "p  hig  waeron  *  |  ongean  hyne 

rnyd  yrre.    3  myd  andan  awehte.    -3  ic  gedyde  ^  he  waes  myd 

spere   gesticod.    y   ic  gedyde  ^  hym  man   drincan  mengde 

20  myd  eallan  3  myd  |  ecede.  3  ic  gedyde  ^  man  hym  treowene 
rode  gejgearwode.  3  hyne  baer  on  aheng.  ^  hyne  myd 
naeglum  |  gefaestnode.  ^  nu  aet  nextan  ic  wylle  hys  deaiS  to 
•Se  |  gelaedan.  3  he  sceal  beon  underbeod  aegfter  ge  me  |  ge 
be.  Seo  hell  ba  swyiSe  angrysenlice  bus  cwae^5.  wyte  'p  3u 

25  swa  do.  "p  he  iSa  deadan  fram  me  ne  ateo.  for  bam  |  be  her x 
faela  syndon  geornfulle  fram  me.  |  ^  hig  on  me  wunian 
noldon.  ac  ic  wat  "p  hig  |  fram  me  ne  gewytaft  burh  heora 
ageue  myhte.  |  buton  hig  se  aelmyhtyga  god  fram  me  ateo. 
se  $e  |  lazarum  of  me  genam.  bone  be  ic  heold  deadne  |  feower 

80  nyht  faeste  gebunden.  3  ic  hyne  eft  cwycne  |  ageaf  burh  hys 
bebodu.  ba  ^swarode  satanas  |  3  cwcdS.  Se  ylca  hyt  ys  se 
$e  lazarum  of  unc  bam  genam.  |  Seo  hell  hym  ba  i5us  to 
cwce<5.  Eala  ic  halsige  be  [  burh  byne  maegenu.  ^  eac  burh 
myne.  "p  ~Su  nsefre  |  ne  gebafige  'p  he  in  on  me  cume.  for 

lAfter  her  one  or  more  words  have  been  erased  in  MS. 


THE   OLD   ENGLISH   GOSPEL  OP   NICODEMUS.  501 

[Cotton  MS.  Vitelius  A.  15.] 

swHSe  grimme.    ^  swrSe  egeslice  "jswarode  |  "Sam  satanase  "Sam 

ealdan  deofle.    ^  cwset.  |    hwset  ys  J;e  ]?e  sy  swa  strang  3  sw& 

[*Fol.  74b.]   mihtig  gyf  |  he  man  ys  ^  he  ne  sy  ]?one  deaft  ondredende  *  |  j?e 

wyt  gefirn  beclysed  hsefedon  for  $am  ealle  |  $e  anweald  6n 

5  eorSaii  hafedon  )?u  hyg.    mid  ftinre  |  mihte  to  me  getogon  3 

ic  fseste  heold  3  gyf  $u  |  swa  mihtig  earS  swa  $u  Eer  wsere. 

hwset  ys  se    man  3  ]>e  helend  J?e  ne  sy  ftone  dea$  ^  jnne  | 

mihte  dndredende.    Ac  to  softan  ic  wat  gyf  he  |  6n  menisc- 

nisse  swa  mihtig  ys.    ^  he  nafter  ne  |  unc  ne  ftone  dea~S  ne 

10  6ndret  -p  ic  wat  •p  swa  mi|htig  he  ys  6n  godcundnisse  ty  him 
ne  ma3g  nan  iSing  wi'Sstandan.  3  ic  wat  gyf  )?e  dea^S  ame 
dndret.  "Sone  gefoh^  he  3e.  y  )?e  byS  a3fre  w^  |  to  6cere 
wurulde.  Satanan  )?a  ~Sa3s  cwic|susles  ealdor.  ftsere  helle 
•^swarode.  ^  ]?us  cwce^  hwa3t  twinost  iSu  o&Se  hwset  dndredst 

16  J>u  ~3e    i5one  helend  to  onfonne.    minne  wifterwinna  |  ^  eac 

ftinne  for'San  ic  hys  costnode  3  ic  gedijde  him  ty  call  j?  iudeisce 

[*Fol.  75a.]  folc  j?  hyg  wseron  *  |  ongean  hine  myd  yrre  ^  myd  andan. 

a|wehte  ^  ic  gedyde  J?set  wes  myd  sp6re  gesticod.  |  ^  ic  gedyde 

•p  man  can  mengde  myd  geallan  |  ^  myd  ecede.   "3  ic  gedyde  ty 

20  niau  him  treowe|ne  r6de  gegearwode.  3  hine  "Saar  6n  anheng.  | 
j  hine  mid  nseglum  gefsestnode.  ^  nu  set  nehs|tan  ic  wille 
hys  dea"S  to  i5e  gelsedan.  ^  he  sceal  |  beon  under)7eodd  seg^Ser 
ge  me  ge  J>e.  Seo  hell  |  ~Sa  angrislice  "Sus  cwa3t.  wyte  "p  'Su 
sw9\  do  "f  he  )?a  deadan  fram  me  ne  ateo.  for  "Sam  J>e  her  | 

25  fala  sindon  geornfulle  fram  me  •p  hyg  on  j  me  wunian  nolden. 
Ac  ic  wait  •p  hig  fram  me  |  ne  gewitaiS  J>urh  heora  agene  mihte. 
buton  j  hyg  $e  selmihtiga  god  fram  me  ateo.  Se  J?e  |  Ladza- 
rum  of  me  genam.  J?one  'Se  ic  heold  dejadne  feower  niht 
fseste  gebunden.  ^  ic  hine  |  eft  cwicne  ageaf  fturh  hys  bebodu. 

30  Da  3swa|rode  satanas  3  cwset.    Se  ylca  hit  ys  ]?e  )?e  |  ladzarum 

[*Fol.  75b.]  of  unc  bam  genam.     Se  hell  him  *  |  J?a  "Sus  to  cwset.     Eala  ic 

halsige  J?e  f'ur^  J?ine  |  msegenu.    y  eac  Jmr5  mine  ^  iSu  nsefre 

ne  |  gej>afige  •p  he  in  ne  on 1  me  come,    for  iSam  J?a  ic  |  gehyrde 

1  on  above  line  in  MS. 


502  W.    H.    HULME. 

[Camb.  Univ.  Lib.  MS.  li.  ii,  11.] 

pam   pa   ic  j  gehyrde   ^    word    hys   bebodes.    ic   wses    myd 

myclum  |  ege  afyriht  3  ealle  myne  arleasan  penas  wseron  | 

[*P.  29.]   samod  myd  me  gedrehte  3  gedrefede  swa  •))  we  ne*|  myhton 

lazarum  gehealdan.    ac  he  wses  hyne  asceacen|de  eal  swa  earn 

5  ponne  he  myd  hrsedum  flyhte  wyle  |  foHS  afleon.    3  he  swa 

wa3S  fram  us  rsesende.    3  seo    eorSe  pe  lazarus  deadan  lic- 

haman  heold.    heo  |  hyne  cwycne  ageaf.    And  ^  ic  nu  wat  "p 

se  man  pe  call  ty  gedyde  ^  he  ys  on  gode  strang  3  myhtig.    y 

gif  |  pu  hyne  to  me  Isedest  ealle  pa  'Se  her  syndon  on  |  pysum 

10  wselhreowan  cwearterne  beclysede.   3  on  pysum  |  bendum  myd 

synnum  gewrySene.    ealle  he  myd  hys  |  godcundnysse  fram 

me  atylrS  y  to  lyfe  gelset.    ac  |  amang  pam  pe  hig  pus  sprsecon 

]?ser  waes  stefen  |  ^  gastlic  hream  swa  hlud  swa  jmnres  siege 

•^  wses  |  ]ms  cwe^ende.     Tottite  portas  principes  uestras.    &  \ 

15  eleuamini  porte  eternales  &  introibit  rex    glorie.    fy  byS  on 

englisc.    ge  ealdras  to  nyma'S  |  )?a  gatu.    3  up  ahebbaft  J?a 

ecan  gatu.    •p  msege  in|gan  se  cyng  ];ses  ecan  wuldres.    Ac 

]?a  seo  hell  ty  \  gehyrde.    ]>a  cw<#3  heo  to  |?am  ealdre  satane. 

gewyt  j  ra'Se  fram  me.    ^  far  ut  of  mynre  onwununge.1    ^  gif  | 

20  Jm  swa  myhtig  eart  swa  J?u  ser  ymbe  sprsece.    J;on?ie  wyn  J?u 

nu  ongean  J?one  wuldres  cyning.    y  gewur'Se    J> e  ^  hym.    and 

seo  hell  J?a  satan  of  hys  setlum  ut|adraf.    y  cwceiS  to  J?am 

[*P.  30.]  arleasum  J?enum  beluca^S  J;a  wael*|hreowan  y  J?a  serenan  gatu. 
•3  to  foran  on  sceotaft  }?a  ysenan  scyttelsas.  3  heom  stranglice 
25  wiftstanda'S  |  ^  J?a  hseftinga  gehealdaft.  'p  we  ne  beon  ge- 
hsefte.  |  pa  ^  gehyrde  seo  msenigeo  psera  halgena  J?e  'Sser  | 
ynne  wseron.  hig  clypedon  ealle  anre  stefne  3  |  cwsedon  to 
J?sere  helle.  Geopena  pyne  gatu.  ^  |  masge  ingan  se  cyning 
J>ses  ecan  wuldres.  ]?a  cwce^  dauid  J?a  gyt.  ne  forewitegode 
30  ic  eow  pa  $a  ic  |  on  eoriSan  lyfigende  wses.  Andetta^  dryhtne 
hys  |  myldheortnysse.  for  J?am  ^e  he  hys  wundra  wyle  | 
manna  bearnum  gecySan.  ^  pa  serenan  gatu  3  pa  |  ysenan 
scyttelas  tobrecon.  3  he  wyle  genyman  |  hig  of  pam  wege 
heora  onryhtwysnysse.  JEifter  pam  |  pa  cw<#3  se  wytega  isaias 

1  on  above  line  in  MS. 


THE  OLD   ENGLISH   GOSPEL   OF   NICODEMUS.  503 

[Cotton  MS.  Vitelius  A.  15.] 

]>sdt  word  hys  bebodes.  ic  wses  myd  [  micclum  ege  afirht.  3 
ealle  mine  arleasan  |  J>enas  weron  saraod  myd  me  gedrehte. 
•3  gejdrefede  swa  "p  we  ne  mihton  ladzarum  gehejaldan.  Ac 
he  wa3S  hyne  asceacende  call  swa  |  earn  J>one  he  myd  hreftum 

5  flihte  wille  for$  afleon.  3  he  wses  sw&  fram  us  raasende.  3 
seo  eor|$e  ]?e  ladzarus  deadan  lichaman  heold  heo  hyne 
cwicne  ageaf.  "3  j?  ic  nu  wat  "p  -$e  man  )?e  call  "p  gedyde 
J>  he  ys  6n  gode  strang.  "3  mihtig  )  3  gyf  ftu  hine  to  me  ge- 
la?dest.  ealle  ]?e  her  |  sindon  6n  ftisum  wselhrewan  cwearterne 

10  bejclisde.   "3  on  iSisum  bendum  myd  sinnum  ge|wrr3ene.    ealle 

he  myd  hys  godcunnisse  fram  |  me  atiht.    "3  to  lyfe  gelset.    Ac 

[*Fol.  76a.]   amang  J>am  *  |  ];e  hyg  ^us  specon.    J^ser  waas  stefen.    ^  gastlic 

hream  swa  hlud  swilce  ftunres  siege.    ^  waes  |  ftus  cwe^ende. 

Tollite  portas  principes  uesfras    &  eleuamini  porte  eternales 

15  &  introibit  rex  glon'e.  Dset,  byd  on  englisc.  Ge  ealdras  to 
nima'S  |  ]>a  gatu  3  up  on  hebba'S.  )?a  ecan  gatu.  p  maajge 
ing&n  ^e  cyning  iSses  aacan  wuldraBS.  Ac  |  )?a  ¥>a  me  rafte  seo 
helle  'p  gehyrde.  J>a  cwaet  |  to  J?am  ealdre  satane.  Gewit 
fram  me  rseiSe  |  "3  far  tit  of  minre  6nwununge.  ^  gyf  ftu  swa  | 

20  mihtig  ear<$.  swa  'Su  a3r  imbe  specon.  J>one  |  winn  $u  nu 
6ngean  'Sone  wuldres  cining  "3  gewurSe  J>e  ^  him.  And  seo 
helle  J>a  satanas  |  of  hys  setlum  ut  adraf.  "3  CWOB^  to  'Sam 
arleasum  1 1  );enum.  BelucaiS  )?a  waelhriwan.  "3  )?a  serenan  | 
gatu.  "3  to  foran  6n  sceota^  ]?a  ysenan  scyt|telsas.  *3  him 

25  stranglice  wy3standai5  "3  )?a  ha3f|tinge  gehealda^.    'p  we  ne 

[*Fol.  76b.]   beon  geha}fte.     Da  *  |  ^  gehirde  -Seo  menigu  $a3ra  halgena  )?e 

•Saer  inne  wseron.    Hyg  clypodon  ealle  anre  stefe|ne  ^  cwaadon 

to  3a3re  helle.     Geopena  ]?ine  gajtu  'p  msege  inngan  )?e  cining 

i$33S  aBcan  wuldres.  |     Da  cwce£  dauid  );a  gyt.     Ne  forewite- 

30  gode  ic  e6w  fta  |  ]>&  ic  6n  eorftan  wa?s  lyfigende  )?a  ^a  ic 
ssede.  |  Andetta^  drihtene  hys  mildheornissa  for  $am  |  J»e  he 
hys  wundra  wile  manna  bearnum  geci^l'San  "3  J?a  serenan  gatu. 
•3  'Sa  ysenan  scittelsas  |  to  brecan.  -3  he  wile  hyg  geniman  of 
ftarn  weg|ge  heora  unrihtwisnysse.  aefter  -Sam  ]?a  cwoe^  se  | 


504  W.    H.    HULME. 

[Camb.  Univ.  Lib.  MS.  li.  ii,  11.] 

to  eallum  bam  halguwi  be  iSser  I  wseron.    3  ne  foressede  ic 

eow   ba   fta    ic   on    eorSan  |  lyfigende   wses.    "p   deade   men 

arysan  sceoldon.  [   3  msenige  byrgena  geopenod  weorSan.    3 

fa  sceoljdon  geblyssian  be  on  eorSan  wseron.    for  bam  fte  j 

5  hyni  fram  dryhtne  hsel  sceolde  cuman.    ]?a  ealle  |  ba  halgan 

bys  wseron  gehyrende  fram  bam  witegan    esaiam.    hig  wseron 

cweftende  to  bsere  belle.     Ge|opena  byne  gatu.    nu  bu  scealt 

beon  untrum  y  unjmyhtig.    3  myd  ealJum  oferswybed.    heom 

[*P.  31.]  ba  iSus  ge*|sprecenum  bser  wses  geworden  seo  mycele  stefen  | 

10  swylce  bunres  siege  "3  bus  cwceiS.  Ge  ealdras  to  nirnaS  f 
eowre  gatu  3  up  ahebbaiS  ba  ecan  gatu.  ^  ma3ge  |  ingan  se 
cyning  bses  ecan  wuldres.  ac  seo  hell  |  ba  ^  gehyrde  •p  hyt 
wses  tuwa  swa  geclipod.  ba  clypode  heo  ongean  ^  bus  cwc^S. 
hws3t  ys  se  |  cyning  be  sig  wuldres  cyning.  Dauid  hyre  | 

15  ^swarode  ba  ^  cwceS.  bas  word  ic  oncnawe.  3  eac  |  ic  bas 
word  gegyddode  ba  $a  ic  on  eoriSan  wass.  |  ^  ic  byt  gecwce^S. 
j?  se  sylfa  drihten  wolde  of  heofe|num  on  eor^an  beseon.  3 
bser  gehyran  ba  geom|runge  his  gebundenra  beowa.  ac  nu  bu 
fuluste  |  y  bu  ful  stinceudiste  hell.  Geopena  byne  gatu  |  ^ 

20  maBge  ingan  bses  ecan  wuldres  cyning.  Dauide  |  ba  bus  ge- 
sprecenum.  bser  to  becom  se  wuldorfulla  |  cyning  on  manues 
gelycnysse.  *p  wses  ure  heofen|lica  dryhten.  y  bar  ba  ecan 
j?ystro  ealle  |  geondlyhte.  y  bar  ba  synbendas  he  ealle  to 
brsec.  |  y  he  ure  ealdfsederas  ealle  geneosode.  ba3r  bser  |  hig 

26  on  bam  bystrum  ser  lange  wunigende  wseron.    Ac  |  seo  hell 

3  se  deaiS.    ^  heora  arleasan  benunga  ba  ^a  |  hig  ^  gesawon  3 

gehyrdon.    wseron  aforhtode  myd  |  heora  wselhreowum  benum 

[*P.  32.]  for  bam  fte  hig  on  heora  *  |  agenum  rice  swa  mycele  beorhtnysse 

bses  leohtes  |  gesawon  3   hig  fseringa_cryst  gesawon  on  bam 

30  setle  |  syttan  be  he  him  sylfum  gealimxThsefde.  3  hig  wseron  | 
clypigende.  ^  bus  cwe'Sende.  We  syndon  fram  be  |  ofer- 
swySde.  Ac  we  acsia'S  be  hwset  eart  bu.  bu  ^e  |  butan  selcon 
geflyte.  ^  butan  selcere  gewemminge  |  myd  bynum  msegen 
brymme  hsefst  ure  myhte  ge|ny$erod.  O"S^e  hwaet  eart  bu 

35  swa  mycel.    ^  eac  |  swa  lytel.    ^  swa  nyiSerlic.    ^  eft  up  swa 


THE   OLD   ENGLISH   GOSPEL   OF   NICODEMUS.  505 

[Cotton  MS.  Vitelius  A.  15.] 

witega  isaias  to  eallum  f  am  halgum  iSe  faBr  wa3  |  waBron.    And 

ne  foressede  ic  eow  fa  fta  ic  6n  eor|$an  lyfigende  wees,    ty 

deade   men   arisan   sceol|deu  3   manega  byrgena   geopenode 

wurSan  |  3  fa   sceoldon   geblissigan   $e  6n  eorSan  waBron  | 

5  forSam  fe  him  fram  drihtene  heel  sceolde  |  cuman.     Da  ealle 

[*Fol.  77a.]  fa  halgan  f  is  waBron  ge*|hirende  fram  iSam  witegan  isaiam 

hig  waBron  |  cweftende  to  ftaBre  helle.     Geopena  ftine  gatu    nu 

fu   scealt  beon  untrum.    3  unmihtig  3  |  myd  eallum  ofor- 

swrSed.     Him  fta  -Sus  gespejcenum  faBr  waBS  gevvorden  seo 

10  micele  stefen  swilce  ftunres  siege.  3  $us  cwaBt.  Ge  ealdras  | 
tonimaS  eowre  gatu.  3  upahebbaft  fa  secan  |  gatu.  ^  mage 
inngan  fe  cinuing  "SaBS  £ecan  |  wuldres.  Ac  fa  seo  hell  j? 
gehyrde  -p  hyt  |  waBS  tuwa  sw&  geclypod  fa  clypode  heo 
ong6an  ^  fus  cwce^.  hwaBt  hys  se  cyning  fe  sy  wuldres  | 

15  cinnig.  Dauid  hyre  ^swarode  fa  ^  cwaBt.  |  Das  word  ic 
6ncnawe.  3  eac  ic  fas  word  gegidjdode  fa  $a  ic  on  eorSan 
waBS.  ^  ic  hyt  gecwoe£  ty  fe  sylfa  drihten  wolde  of  heofenuwi 
6n  eor-San  |  beseon.  3  faBr  gehyran  fa  geomrunge  hys  |  ge- 
bundenra  fteowa.  Ac  nu  fu  fuluste.  ^  f u  |  ful  stincendiste 

20  hell.  Geopena  fine  gatu*  |  f  maBge  inngan  "SaBS  aBcan  wuldres 
cynning.  |  Dauide  $a  fus  gespecenum.  farto  becom  fe  | 
wuldorfulla  cynning  on  mannes  gelicnesse.  |  ^  WHBS  ure 
heofeliea  drihten.  y  faBr  $a  secan  ^Sisjtru  ealle  geondlihte  -3 
faBr  $a  sinnbendas  he  |  ealle  tobraBC  ^  he  ure  heald  faBderas 

25  ealle  gejneosode  faBr  "SaBr  hyg  waBron  on  ^am  fistrum  |  SBY 
lange  wunigende.  Ac  seo  hell  ^  se  dea^  ^  |  heora  arleasan 
f enunga  fa  fa  hyg  -p  gesawou  |  3  gehyrdon.  waBron  aforhtode 
myd  heora  waBl|hriwan  ^enum  for  ^am  $e  hyg  6n  heora 
agenum  |  rice  swa  micele  byornisse  faBS  leohtes  ges^wan  ^ 

30  feringa  crist  gesawon  on  -Sam  setle  sittan  fe  |  he  hym  sylfum 
geahnod  haBfede.  3  hyg  waBron  clypigende.  y  'Sus  cwaB$- 
ende.  We  sindon  fram  |  fe  oferswi^de.  Ac  we  halsiaS  fe 
hwaBt  eart  -Su  |  -Su  fe  buton  aBlcon  geflite.  ^  butan  aBlcere  | 
gewemminge  myd  f inum  maBgenfrimme  |  haBfst  ure  mihte 
[*Fol.  78a.]  genrSorod.  And  hwaBt  eart  *  |  f  u  swa  mucel  ^  eac  sw&  litel.  ^ 


506  W.   H.   HULME. 

[Camb.  Univ.  Lib.  MS.  li.  ii,  11.] 

heah.  ^  swa  wunderlic  on  anes  mannes  bywe  us  to  ofer- 
dry|fenne.  fLwcet  ne  eart  bu  se  fte  lage  dead  on  byrgene.  | 
3  eart  lyfigende  hyder  to  us  cumen  3  on  bynum  ]  deafte  ealle 
eorSan  gesceafta  j  ealle  timgla  syndon  |  astyrode.  ^  bu  eart 

6  freoh  geworden  betwynan  j  ealluw  oftrum  deadum.  3  ealle 
ure  eoredu  bu  hsefst  |  swifte  gedrefed.  3  hwset  eart  bu  be 
hsefst  •p  leoht  |  hyder  eond  send.  3  myd  bynre  godcundan 
myhte  |  -3  beorhtnysse  hsefst  ablend  ba  synfullan  bystro  |  3 
gelyce  ealle  bas  eoredu  byssa  deofla  syndon  |  swySe  afyrhte. 

10  -3   hig   wseron   ba   ealle   ba   deoflu  |  clypigende   anre   stefne. 

hwanon  eart  bu  la  hselend  |  swa  strang  man.    ^  swa  beorht 

on  msegenbryrune  |  butan  selcon  womme.    •}  swa  clsene  fram 

[*P.  33.]   selcon  *  |  leahtre.    call  eorSan  myddan  card  us  wses  symble  | 

underbeod  o$  nu.    And  eoruostlice  we  ahsia'S  be  |  hwset  eart 

15  bu.  bu  'Se  swa  unforht  us  to  eart  cumen.  ]  3  bar  to  eacan  us 
wylt  fram  ateon  ealle  ba  3e  we  |  gefyrn  on  bend  urn  heoldon. 
Hwsefter  hyt  wen  sig.  |  ^  ^u  sig  se  ylca  hselend  be  satan  ure 
ealdor  ymbe  |  spsec.  3  ssede  ty  -Surh  bynne  dea$  he  wolde 
geweald  |  habban  ealles  myddan  eardes.  Ac  se  wuldor|fsesta 

20  cyning.  j  ure  heofenlica  hlaford  ba  nolde  [  bsera  deofla  ge- 
ma^eles  mare  habban.  ac  he  bone  j  deoflican  deaft  feor  ny5er 
atrsed.  3  he  satan  |  gegrap.  3  hyne  faeste  geband.  -j  hyne 
bsere  helle  sealde.  on  ange weald.  Ac  heo  hyne  ba  under- 
feng  |  call  swa  hyre  fram  ure  heofenlican  hlaforde  gehaten 

25  wses.  ba  cworS  seo  hell  to  satane  la  $u  ealdor  |  ealre  for- 
spyllednysse.  and  la  "Su  ord^jfruma  |  ealra  yfela.  ^  la  $u 
fseder  ealra  flymena.  -3  la  $u  be  ealdor  wsere  ealles  deaftes. 
^  la  ordfruma  |  ealre  modignysse.  for  hwig  gedyrstlsehtest 
bu  i  be  fy  "Su  ^  gebanc  on  ^  iudeisce  folc  asendest  f  hig  |  bysne 

30  hselend  ahengon.    3  bu  hym  nsenne  gylt  on    ne  oncneowe.    ^ 

bu  nu  burh  ty  try  w.    3  burh  ba  rode  |  hsefst.    ealle  byne  blysse 

[*P.  34.]   forspylled.    -j  burh  ^  be  ^u  *  |  bysne  wuldres  cyning  ahenge. 

bu  dydest  wyiSerwerd|lice  ongean  be.    "3  eac  ongean  me.    3 

onciiaw  nu  hu  |  fsela  ece  tyntrega.    -3  ba  ungeendodan  suslo 

35  bu  |  byst  browigende  on  mynre  ecan  gehealtsum|uysse.    Ac 


THE   OLD   ENGLISH   GOSPEL   OF   NICODEMUS. 


507 


[Cotton  MS.  Vitelius  A.  15.] 

swa  nyftorlic  |  -3  eft  sw&  up  heah.  -3  sw&  wunderlic  on  anes  | 
mannes  hywe  us  to  oferwinnanne.  Bu  lage  |  dead  6n  byrgene. 
•3  ear  lyfigende  hider  to  us  gejfaren  -3  6n  ]?inum  deafte  ealle 
eorSan  gesceafta.  |  -3  ealle  tungla  sindon  astyrede.  -3  ]?u  eart 

5  freoh  |  gewordon  betwlnan  eallum  o^Srum  deadum  -3  eal|lum 
ure  eoredu  $u  hsefst  swrSe  gedrefed.  -3  hwset  |  eart  $u  }m  $e 
hsefst  -p  leohte  hyder  geondsend  y  \  myd  J?inre  gocundan 
beorhtnysse  hsefst  ajblend  J?a  sinfullan  ftistru.  -3  eac  gelice 
ealle  |  j?as  eoredu  Sissa  deofla  sindon  swrSe  afirhte  -3  wseron 

1°  J>a  ealle  J>a  deoflu  clypigende  anre  ste|fene.     Hwanon  eart  )?u 

helend  swa  strang  rn&n  |  -3  sw&  beorht  6n  msegen];rimme  buton 

eelcon  |  womme.    -3  sw^l  clene  fram  selcon  leahtre  call    eorSan 

[*Fol.  78b.]   myddaneard  us  wses  simile  under* j'Seod  o^  nu.    ^  eornostlice 

we  ahsya^  J>e  hwaet  eart    ^u  J?u  'Se  swa  unforht  us  to  eart 

15  cumen.  3  |?SBT  |  to  eacan  us  wilt  fram  ateon  ealle  )?a  %e  we 
firn  |  on  bendum  heoldon.  Hwsefter  hyt  wen  sit  "Su  sy  J?e 
ylca  helend  ^e  satanas  ure  ealdor  ymbe  |  spec  y  sede  *p  J>urh 
Jnnne  dea^  he  weolde  gewe|ald  habban.  ealles  rayddan  eardes. 
Ac  ]?e  |  wuldorfaasta  cinnig  -3  ure  heofonlican  hlaford  |  ]>a  nolde 

20  "Sera  deofla  ge  mafteles  na  mare  |  habban.  Ac  he  J>one  deofli- 
can  deaiS  feorr  |  ni)?er  atrsed  "3  he  satanas  gegrap  "3  hyne  |  faeste 
gebant.  "3  hyne  J^sere  helle  sealde  on  |  an  weald.  Ac  heo  bine 
fta  underfeng  call  |  swd  heo  fram  ure  heofonlican  hlaforde 
ge|haten  wses.  Da  cwce£  seo  hell  to  satane.  La  ftu  eal|dor 

25  ealre  forspillednysse  "3  La  ftu  ordfruma  |  ealra  yfela.    "3  ftu 

feeder  ealra  flymena.    "3  'Su  |  'Se  sealdor  wsere  ealles  dea'Ses  "3 

[*Fol.  79a.]   ordfruma  eal*|re  modignisse  for  hwig  gedyrstlehtest  "Su  |  3e  -p 

^u  ^  ge^anc  on  ^  iudeisce  folc  asendest.  j    j?  hy  )?isne  helend 

ah£ngon.    3  J>u  him    nsenne  gylt  on  ne  oncweowe.    "3  Jm  uu  | 

30  p>urh  •p  treow  ^  f»urh  "Sa  rode  hsefst  ealle  |  }>ine  blisse  forspilled. 
•3  ];urh  ^  -Su  J>isne  wuldres  |  cining  ahengon.  Du  wi'Serwserd- 
lice  gedydest  seg|Ser  ongean  ]>e.  "3  eac  ongean  me.  3  oncnaw 
nu  hu  |  fala  ece  tyntregan.  "3  ]^a  ungeendodan  suslo  "Su  | 
byst.  "Srowiende  6n  minre  ecan  haltsumnysse.  Ac  |  Sa  J?a  ^e 

35  wuldres  cynyng  J>set  gehyrde  hu     seo  hell  wyS  f>one  re^San 


508  W.    H.    HULME. 

[Camb.  Univ.  Lib.  MS.  li.  ii,  11.] 

]>a  $a  se  wuldres  cyning  -p  gehyrde  hu  |  seo  hell  wy$  bone 
reftan  satan  sprsec.  he  cwceS  to  bsere  |  helle.  beo  saian  on 
bynum  anwealde.  3  gyt  butu  on  |  eeum  forwyrde.  }  ty  beo 
sefre  to  ecere  worulde.  |  On  bsere  stowe  be  ge  adam  3  bgera 
6  witegena  beam  |  a3r  lange  on  geheoldon.  And  se  wuldor- 
fulla  |  dryhten  ba  his  swySran  hand  a^enede  3  cwceft.  Ealle  | 
ge  myne  halgan  ge  be  myne  gelycnysse  habbaft.  |  cumaft  to 
me.  3  ge  be  burh  bses  treowes  bleda  ge|nyfterude  wa3ron.  ge 
seoiS  nu.  J?  ge  sceolon  burh  ty  \  treow  mynre  r6de  J?e  ic  on 

10  ahangen  wees  ofer|swy$an  bone  deaft.  3  eac  bone  deofol. 
Hyt  wses  ba  |  swy^Se  ra$e  ^  ealle  ba  halgan  wseron  gene^le- 
cende  |  to  bses  ha3lendes  handa.  and  se  hselend  ba  adam  be  j 
ba3re  riht  hand  genam  y  hym  to  cwce$.  Syb  sig  myd  be  | 
adam.  ^  myd  eallum  fynum  be^rnu?7i.  Adam  was  ba  |  ny^er 

15  afeallende.  ^  bses  hselendes  cneow  cyssende.  |  y  myd  teargeot- 

endre  halsunge  ^  myd  mycelre  stefne  |  bus  CWOB^.     Ic  herige 

[*P.  35.]  J?e  heofena  hlaford  •p  -gu   me  *  j  of  J;ysse  cwyc  susle  onfon 

woldest.    And  se  ha3lend  |  ba  his  hand  a^enede  -j  r6de  tacen 

ofer  adam  gejworhte.    ^  ofer  ealle  his  halgan.    y  he  adam  be 

20  bsere  |  swyiSran  handa  fram  helle  geteh.  y  ealle  ba  halgan  | 
heom  sefter  fyligdon.  Ac  se  halga  dauid  ba  ftus  clypode  |  myd 
stranglicre  stefne  3  cwreft.  Singa^  dryhtne  nywne  |  lofsang. 
for  J7am  "Se  dryhten  ha3f^  wundra  eallum  |  beodum  geswutelod. 
3  he  ha3f$  hys  hsele  cu'Se  gedon.  |  toforan  ealre  beode 

25  gesyhiSe.  ^  his  ryhtwysnysse  j  onwrigen.  Ealle  ]?a  halgan 
hym  J?a  ^swaredon  ^  cwaBdon.  bses  sig  dryhtne  niserS. 
3  eallum  hys  halgum  |  wuldor.  amen.  ALLELUIA.  Se 
halga  dryhten  wses  ba  |  adames  hand  healdende.  3  hig 
michaele  bam  heah  |  engle  syllende.  ^  hym  sylf  wses  on 

30  heofenas  farende.  |  ealle  ba  halgan  wa3ron  ba  mychaele  bam 
heah  |  engle  aBfterfyligende.  ^  he  hig  ealle  ingelsedde  on  | 
neorxena  wang  myd  wuldorfulre  blysse.  ac  ba  hig  inweard 
foron.  ba  gemytton  hig  twegen  ealde  weras.  ^  ealle  ba 
halgan  hig  sona  acsedon.  3  heom  bus  to  cwsedon.  Hwset 

35  syndon  ge  J>e  on  helle  myd  |  us  na3ron.    3  ge  nu  gyt  deade 


THE   OLD   ENGLISH   GOSPEL   OF   NICODEMUS. 


509 


[*Fol. 


15 


[Cotton  MS.  Vitelius  A.  15.] 

satan  spsec.    he  cwaBft  |  to  ftsere  haBlle.     Beo  satan  6n  f  inum 
anwealjde  3  gyt  butu  6n  ecum  forwyrde.    3  ^  beo  aBfre  |  to 
aBcere  worulde.     On  ftaBre  st6we  f  e  ge  adam  3  |  f  aBra  witegena 
barn  ser  lange  6n  geheolden.  |    And  se  wuldorfulla  drihten. 
fta  hys  swiftran  |  hand  af  enede  y  cwcet.    Ealle  ge  mine  halgan 
[*Fol.  79b.]  ge  f  e  |  mine  gelicnysse  habbaft  curnaft  to  me  3  *  j  ge  f  e  fturh 
faBS   treowes   blaBda   genySerude  |  waBron   geseoft   nu.    ^   ge 
seolon   fturh  -p  treow  |  minre   rode  fte  ic  6u   ahangen  wses . 
ofor|swiftan  fone  deaft.    ^  eac  fone  deofol.     Hyt  |  wses  fa 
10  swifte  rafte  ^  ealle  fa  halgan  waBron  geneajlecende.    to  fses 
helendes  handan.    3  se  helend  fa  |  adalm  be  f  sere  riht  handa 
genam.    y  hym  to  cwset.     Syb  sy  myd  fe  adam.    3  myd 
eallum  |  finum  bearnum.    Adam  wses  fta  nyfter  afeallenjde  y 
fses   helendes   cneow    cyssende.    ^    myd  |  tearum    geotendre 
halsunge.    ^  myd  milcelre  ste|fene  Sus  cwcet.     Ic  hyerige1  fe 
heofona  hlaford  |  ^  ^Su  me  of  Sisse  cwicsusle  onfon  weoldest. 
And    se  helend  $a  hys  hand  aSenede  ^  rodetacn  ofjfaBr  adam 
geworhte.    3   ofer   ealle   hys   halgan.    ^  |  he   adam    be  f  aBre 
swift  ran  handan  fram  helle    geteh.    3  ealle  fta  halgan  hym 
sefter  fylygdon.  *  |    Ac  halga  dauid  fa  ft  us  clypode  myd  | 
stranglicre  stefene.    ^  cwce^.     Syngaft  drih|tene  nywne  lof- 
sang  forftamfte  drihten  |  hsefft  hys  wundra  eallum  fteodum 
geswutelo|de.2    y  he  sefft  hys  hele  cufte  gedon  toforan  ealra  | 
fteoda   gesyhfte.     3    hys   rihtwysnysse   awrigen.     Ealle  |  fa 
halgan  hym  fa  ^swaroedon.    ^  cwsedon.     Dses  sy  |  drihtene 
mserft.    ^  eallum  hys  halgum  wuldor.    AMEN  |  ALELUIA. 
Be  halega  drihten  wses  fta  adaraes  |  hand  healdende  3  hyg 
mychaele  f  am  hejahengle  syllende  y  hym  sylf  waes  |  to  heofo- 
nan   farende  3  ealle  fta  |  halgan  wseron  fa   mychaele   fam 
30  heahengle  sefter    fyligende.    3  he  hig  ealle  inne  gelsedde  6n 
neoxenawang  |  myd  wuldorfulre  blysse.    Ac  fa  hyg  inweard 
fojron   fa   gemytton    hyg   twegen   ealde  weras.    3   ealjle  fa 
halgan   hig   sona  ahsedon.    ^  hym  fus  to  cwse|don.    hwset 


20 


25 


hy'rige  MS. 


1  ge  swu^lode  MS. 


610  W.    H.    HULME. 

[Camb.  Univ.  Lib.  MS.  li.  ii,  11.] 

nseron.    3    eower    lyc|haman    swa    beah    on    neorxnawange 

togsedere  |  syndon.     Se  ofter  hym  ba  -jswarode  3  cwce$.    ic 

[*P.  36.]  eom  *  |  enoch.    3  ic  burn  dryhtnes  word  wses  hyder  alsedd.  ) 

y  bys  ys  helias  thesbyten  be  myd  me  ys.    Se  wses  |  on  fyrenum 

5  crsete    hyder  geferod.     3    wyt  gyt  deaftesMne  onbyrigdon. 

Ac  wyt  sceolon  myd  godcundum  |  tacnum  y  myd  forebeacnum 

antecrystes   gean[bydian.     3    ongean   hyne   wynnan.    y    wyt 

sceolon  |  on  hierusalem  fram  hym  beon  ofslagene  3  he  eac  | 

fraw  us.    Ac  wyt  sceolon  bynnan  feoHSan  healfes  |  dseges  fsece 

W  beon  eft  geedcwycode.  3  burh  ge|nypu  up  onhafene.  Ac 
onmang  bam  fte  Enoch  |  3  elias  bus  sprsecon.  heom  bser  to 
becom  sum  |  wer  be  wses  earmlices  hywes.  ^  wa3s  berende 
anre  |  rode  tacen  on  uppan  hys  exlum.  Ac  J>a  halgan  |  hyne 
Jm  sona  gesawon.  y  hym  to  cwsedon.  hwset  |  eart  Jm  )?e  %n 

15  ansyn  ys  swylce  anes  scea-San.  -3  hwset  ys  ty  tacen  );e  $u  on 
uppan  ]?inum  exlum  |  byrst.  he  hym  ^swarode  3  cwseft.  So^ 
ge  secga^S  j  ^  ic  scea^a  wses.  3  ealle  yfelu  on  eor^San  wyr- 
cen|de.  Ac  ]?a  iudeas  me  wy3  ]?one  haelend  ahengon.  3  ic 
|?a  geseah  ealle  )?a  ^ing  |?e  be  )?am  hselencle  |  on  J^sere  r6de 

20  gedone  wseron.    y  ic  ]?a  sona  ge|lyfde  ^  he  wses  ealra  gesceafta 

[*P.  37.]   scyppend.    "3  se  j  selmyhtiga  cyning.    ^  ic  hyne  georne  bsed.*  | 

•3  )?us  cwsa^.     Eala  dryhten  gemun  Jni  myn  bonne  bu  |  on  byn 

ryce  cymest.    And  he  wses  myne  bene  sona    onfonde  3  he  me 

to  cwceiS.     To  soiSon  ic  be  secge.    to  dseg  |  bu  byst  myd  me  on 

25  neorxnawange.  3  he  me  bysse  rode  tacen  sealde  ^  cwceft. 
Ga  on  neorxna  wang  myd  |  bysum  tacne.  y  gif  se  engel  be  ys 
hyrde  to  neorxna  |  wanges  geate  'Se  inganges  forwyrne.  aetyw 
hym  |  bysse  rode  tacen.  3  sege  to  hym.  •}?  se  hselenda  cryst  | 
godes  sunu  be  nu  wses  anhangen  be  byder  asende.  And  ic  ba 

30  "Sara  engle  be  "Sser  hyrde  wses  call  hym  |  swa  asaade  ^  he  me 
sona  ingelaadde  on  ba  swy^ran  |  healfe  neorxna  wanges  geates. 
3  he  me  gelanbydian  het  3  me  to  cwcdS.  Geanbyda  her.  o^S 
^  inga  eall  mennisc  cynn.  be  se  fseder  adam  |  myd  eallum  his 
bearnum  ^  myd  eallum  halgum  be  |  myd  hym  wseron  on  bsere 

1  MS. 


THE   OLD    ENGLISH    GOSPEL   OF   NICODEMUS. 


511 


ji i    o-j  a 


[Cotton  MS.  Vitelius  A.  15.] 

[*Fol.  80b.]  syndon  ge  ge  ]>e 1  6n  helle  myd  us  nseron  *  |  y  eower  lychaman 
swa  }>eh  6n  neorxenajwangse  togsedere  syndon.  De  oSer  hym 
Sa  |  ^jswarode  3  cwset.  Ic  com  enoch  3  ic  Surh  drihnes 
word  wses  hyder  alsedd  3  ]>is  hys  ellas  thesbitem  |  f>e  myd  me 
5  ys.  Se  wses  6n  ferenum  crsete  hyder  gejferod.  ^  wit  gyt 
deaSes  ne  abyridon.  Ac  wyt  scejolon  myd  godcundum  tac- 
num.  3  myd  forebeacjnum  ante  cristes  geanbidian.  y  ongean 
hine  win|nan.  3  wyt  sceolon  on  hierusalem  frain  hym  |  beon 
ofsleagene.  3  he  eac  fram  us.  Ac  wit  |  sceolon  binnan  feorSan 

10  healfes  dseges  fsece  beon  eft  geedcwicode  |  •}  )wrh  genypu  up 
6n  hefene.  Ac  amang  j?am  |  enoch  3  elias  Sus  specon.  hym 
]?ser  to  becom  |  sum  wer  J?se  wses  earmlices  hlwes.  3  wses 
berenjde  anre  rodetacen  6n  uppan  hys  exlum.  Ac  J?a  |  halgan 
hine  Sa  sona  gesawon  y  him  to  cwsedon.  |  Hwset  eart  |?u  ]>Q 
Sin  ansin  ys  swilce  anes  sceaSan  *  |  3  hwset  ys  -p  tacen  Se  }>u 
6n  uppan  j?inum  exlum  byrst.  He  hym  •jswarode  3  cwset.  | 
SoS  ge  secgaS  ^  ic  sceaSa  wses.  3  ealle  yfulu  on  eorSan 
wyrcende.  Ac  ]?a  iudeas  me  wyS  J>one  he) lend  ahengon.  3  ic 
J>a  gesah  ealle  J>a  Sing  )?e  be  ]?am  helende  on  Ssere  rode 

20  gedone  wseron.  3  ic  Sa  |  sona  gelyfde  ty  he  wses  ealra  gesceapa 
scyppent  3  J>e  elmihtiga  cynig.  y  ic  hine  Sa  georne  bsed  |  -3 
]>us  cwset.  Eala  drihten  gemun  Su  myn  ]?on  ne  Su  6n  ]?in 
rice  cymest.  ^  wses  he  mine  bene  j  sona  onfonde.  y  he  me 
to  cwset.  To  soSan  ic  sec|ge  to  dseg  )?u  byst  myd  me  6n 

25  neoxenawange.  |    j  he  me  Sa  ]?isse  rodetacen  sealde  3  cwset. 
Ga  |  6n  neorxenawange  myd  J>isum  tacne.    ^  gyf  |  Se  engel  ]>Q 
ys    hyrde  to  neorxenawanges  ge  ate  |?e  innganges   forwirde 
setyw  him  J>isse  ro|detacen.    y  sage  to  hym  $  se  helend  crist  | 
[*Fol.  81b.]  godes  sunu  Se  nu  wses  6nhsengen.    J>e  Sider  a*|sende.    And  ic 

30  J?a  J>am  engle  ]>e  Ser  hyrjde  wses  eall  hym  swa  asaede.  3  he 
me  sona  |  ingelsedde  6n  |?a  swiSeran  healfe  neorxenawajnges 
geates.  Ac  he  me  ge^bidian  h^t  ^  me  |  to  cwset.  Ge^bida 
her  oS  )?set  inga  eall  men|nysc  cynn.  ]>e  fseder  adam  myd 
eallum  hys  |  bearnuw  ^  myd  eallum  halgum  Se  myd  him  |  on 


>e  above  line  in 


512  W.    H.    HULME. 

[Camb.  Univ.  Lib.  MS.  li.  ii,  11.] 

helle.  Ac  3a  ealle  |  heah  fsederas  3  ]>SL  wytegan  ba  hig  gehyr- 
don  I  ealle  bses  sceaftan  word.  ba  cwsedon  hig  ealle  |  anre 
stefne.  Sig  gebletsod  se  selmyhtiga  drihten.  |  3  se  eca  feeder 
se  "Se  swylce  forgifenysse  ]?inum  |  synnum  sealde.  3  myd 
5  swylcere  gife  be  to  neorxna  |  wange  gelsedde.  he  "jswarode  y 

cwceS.    Amen.  \ 

[*P.  38.]  Dys  syndon  ba  godcundan  3  ba  halgan  gerynu  *  |  be  fta 
twegen  wytegan  carinus.  3  leuticus  to  softon  |  gesawon  3 
gehyrdon.  call  swa  ic  ser  her  beforan  ssede.  ^  hig  on  bysne 

10  dseg  myd  bam  hselende  of  deafte  |  aryson.  eall  swa  hig  se 
hselend  of  deafte  awehte.  |  ^  ba  hig  eall  bys  gewryten  y 
gefylled  hsefdon.  Hig  |  up  aryson  3  ba  cartan  be  hig  ge- 
wryten hsefdon.  |  bam  ealdrum  ageafon.  carinus.  his  cartan 
ageaf  |  annan.  3  caiphan.  3  gamaliele.  And  gelice  leuticus  | 

15  his  cartan  ageaf  nychodeme.  ^  iosepe  3  heom  bus  |  to  cwsedon. 
Sybb  sig  myd  eow  eallum  fram  bam  sylfan  |  dryhtne  hselend  urn 
cryste.  3  fram  ure  ealra  hselende.  |  And  carinus.  3  leuticus. 
wseron  ba  fseringa  swa  |  feegeres  hywes  swa  seo  sunrie.  bonne 
he  beorhtost  |  scyne^S.  ^  on  bsere  beortnysse  hyg  of  bawi  folce 

20  ge|wyton.  swa  ^  bses  folces  nawyht  nystou  hwseder  hig  | 
foron.  Ac  ba  ealdras  ba  ^  ba  msessepreostas  bajgewrytu1 
rseddon.  be  carinus  ^  leuticus  j  gewryten  jhsafdon.  )?a  wses 
eeg'Ser  gelice  gewryten  •p  na^er  nses  ne  Isesse  ne  mare  bonne 
ofter  be  anum  |  stafe.  ne  furSon  be  anu??i  prican.  And  $a  ba 

25  gewry|tu  gersedde  wseron.    eall  ^  iudeisce  ba  heom  betwynan  | 

cwsedon.     Softe  syndon  ealle  bas  byng  be  her  gejwordene  syn- 

[*P.  39.]  don.   "3  sefre  sig  dryhten  gebletsod  *  |  aworuld  aworuld.    Amen. 

And  selc  bsera  iudea  |  \\7ses  ba  ham  to  his  agenum  farende  myd 

mycelre    ymbhydignysse.     y    myd    mycelum    ege.     ^    myd  | 

30  mycelre  fyrhto.  ^  heora  breost  beatende.  "p  hig  j  myd  bam 
betan  woldon  "p  hig  wyiS  god  agylt  haafdon.  And  ioseph. 
•3  nychodemus  wseron  ba  farende  |  to  pilate  bam  deman.  3 
hym  eall  atealdon  be  bam  |  twam  wytegum.  CARINE.  y 
LEUTICE.  y  be  bam  gewriton.  |  y  be  ealre  bsere  fare  be  hym 

JA  word  has  been  erased  after  gewrytu. 


THE   OLD    ENGLISH    GOSPEL   OF   NICODEMUS.  513 

[Cotton  MS.  Vitelius  A.  15.] 

$ere  helle  weron.  Ac  pa  ealle  pa  heah|fsederas.  3  witegan 
pa  hyg  gehyrdon.  ealle  pas  sceftan  word,  $a  cwsedon  hyg 
ealle  anre  j  stefene.  Sy  geblesod  se  a3lmihtiga  drihten.  |  3  se 
seca  feeder,  se  $e  swilce  forgyfenisse  pijnum  synnuw  gesealde 
5  3  myd  swilcere  gyfe  |  fte  to  neorxenawange  gelsedde.  he 
•jswarode  |  3  cwset.  AMEN. 

Dys   sindon  pa   godcundan.    3  pa  halgan  ge|rlnu  pe  $a 

twsegen    witegan    cariuus  3   leuticus.  |    to  softan  gesawon  y 

[*Fol.  82a.]   gehyrdon  call  swa  ic  ser  *  |  beforan  sede.    pset  hyg  on  pissene 

10  dseg  myd  |  'Sam  helende  of  deaiSe  arison.  call  swa  hyg  3e  | 
helend  of  deafte  awehte.  ^  J?a  hyg  call  J>is  gewrilten  ^  ge- 
filled  ha3fedon.  hyg  up  arison  ^  J>a  |  cartau  ^e  hyg l  gewriten 
hsefdon.  );am  ealdrum  |  agefou.  Carlnus  hys  cartan  ageaf. 
annan.|  3  caiphan.  Gamaliele.2  ^  gelyee  leuti|cus  hys  kartan 

15  ageaf.  3  on  hand  sealde.  nyc|hodeme.  3  iosepe  ^  him  ^us  to 
cwaBdon.  Syb  |  sy  myd  eow  eallum  fram  );am  sylfa  drihtene  | 
hselende  criste  3  fram  ure  ealra  helende.  |  And  karinus.  3 
leuticus  waeron  fta  feringa  |  swd,  fsegeres  hywes  svv4  seo  sunne 

tj;one  heo  |  beorhtost  scyne^.    3  6n  )?a3re  beorhnysse  hyg  |  of 
20  J>am  folce  gewiton  swa  p>set  ];a3s  folces  na  |  wiht  nyston.    hwaBt 
hyg  geforon.    Ac  J>a  eal|dras  $a  ^  pa  prostas.    "Sa  gewritu 
)1.  82^]   reddon.  |    J>e  karinus.    y  leuticus  gewritene  hsefdon.*  |  ^a  waes 
aeg^er  gelice  gewriten  ^  na^er  nses  |  ne  laasse  ne  mare  pone 
ofter  be  anum  stafe  ne  |  fur^ou  be  anum  prican.     And  pa  $a 
25  gewriten  |  geredde  waaron  eall  •p  iudeisce  folc  pa  hym  be|t\venan 
cwsedon.    So^e  sindon  ealle  pas  Sing  |  pe  her  gewordene  sindon 
^  eefre  sy  drihten  |  gebletso^  aword  a  woruld.    AMEN.  | 

And  aalc  3a3ra  iudea  wees  ^a  ham  to  hys  agenum    farende 
myd   micelre  ymbhldignysse  ^  myd  |  micclum  ege.    ^  myd 
30  micelre  fyrhto.3    ^  heo|ra  breost  beatende  •}?  hyg  myd  pam 
betan  |  wolden  •p  hyg  wi<5  god  agylt  hsefdon.    And  |  ioseph  y 
nichodemus  wseron   $a  farende  to  |  pilate.    pam  d£man.    ^ 


z  -j  lice  has  been  erased  after  Gamaliele  in  MS. 
3/>rhto  MS. 

5 


514  W.    H.    HULME. 

[Camb.  Univ.  Lib.  MS.  li.  ii,  11.] 

seror  bedyglod  wses.  |  Ac  pilatus  ba  on  hys  domerne  hym 
sylf  awrat  |  ealle  ba  )?yng  }>e  be  bam  hselende  gedon  wseron.  | 
3  he  syftftan  an  serendgewryt  awrat.  ^  to  rome  |  asende.  to 
bam  cyninge  claudio.  3  hyt  wses  bus  awryten.  |  Se  pontisca 
5  pilatus  gret  hys  cyne  hlaford  i  claudium.  3  ic  cy$e  ]?e  •)?  hyt 
nu  nywan  gelamp.  |  ty  $a  iudeas  burn  hyra  andan  3  burh 
hyra  agene  |  genyfterunga.  -p  hig  bone  haelend  genamon.  y 
e&c  |  hyne  me  sealdon.  3  hyne  swyfte  wregdon.  3  hym  |  fsela 
ongean  lugon.  ^  ssedon  ^  he  dry  waBre.  -3  e&c  |  ^  he  selcne 

^  reste  dseg  gewemde.    for  J?an  ^e  hig  |  gesawon  f  he  on  reste 

dagum  blynde  men  gelyhte.  |    3  hreoflan  geclsensode.    ^  deo- 

folseocnyssa  fram  mannum  aflymde.    ^  deade  awehte.    3  fsela 

40.]  oftra  *  I  wundra  he  worhte  ^  ic  heom  gelyfde  swa  swa  ic  |  na  ue 

sceolde.    ^  ic  hyne  swingan  het.    ^  hyne  heom  |  sySiSan  to 

15  heora  agenum  dome  ageaf.  ^  hig  hyne  syiSftan  on  treowerne 
rode  ahengon.  ^  he  J>ser  on  |  dead  w^s.  ^  eft  sySiSan  he 
bebyrged  wses.  hig  ]?ser  to  his  byrgene  gesetton.  iiii  ~) 
feowertig  cempena.  |  ]>e  fone  lichaman  healdan  sceoldon. 
Ac  he  on  f>am  |  ]?ryddan  daage  of  dea^e  aras.  ^  J>a  hyrdas  hyt 

20  eall  |  assedon.  ^  hyt  forhelan  ne  myhton.  Ac  ]?a  iudeas  |  |?a 
hig  "p  gehyrdon.  hig  J?am  hyrdon  feoh  geafon.  |  ^  hig  •}> 
secgan  sceoldon  ^  his  cnyhtas  comon.  3  |  bone  lychaman 
forstselon.  And  ba  hyrdas  f>a  ^  feoh  fengon.  ^  hig  swa 


J?eah  )?a  so'SfaBStnysse.  |    be  ^aar  geworden  wa3s  forsuwian  ne 
25  myhton.  |    Nu  leof  cyning  ic  be  eac  lasre  for  J?ig  •p  •Su  nsefre  | 
ba3ra  iudea  leasunga  ne  gelyfe.     Sig  dryhtne  lof.  |    3  deoflum 
sorh  a  to  worulde.    amen. 


THE  OLD   ENGLISH   GOSPEL   OF   NICODEMUS.  515 

[Cotton  MS.  Vitelius  A.  15.] 

hym  eall  atealdon  be  |  ftam  twam  witegum.    karine.   3  leutlce. 

'•3  |  be  "Sam  gewriton  pe  hyg  awriton.    3  be  ealre  |  psere  fare 

pe  seror  bediglod  wses.    Ac  pilatws   $a  6n  hys  domerne  hym 

[*Fol.  83a.]   sylf  awraft  ealle  pa  *  |  "Sing  pe  be  "Sam  helende  gedone  wseron  3 

5  he  |  sy&San  an  serendgewrit  awrat  ^  to  r6me  asen|de  to  pam 

cynnigne   claudio.    3    hyt    wses   ftus   awri|ten.     Se   pontisca 

pilatus  gret  wel  hys  kine  hlaford  |  cludium.    y  ic  cySe  pe  pset 

hyt  nu  niwan  gelamp.  |    •p  iSa  iudeas  purh  heora  andan.    3 

purh  l  heora  age|ne  geny^erunge.    "p  hyg  Jwne  helend  gena- 

10  mon.  |  3  eac  hyg  hine  me  sealdon.  3  hyne  wregdon.  3  | 
hym  fala  6ngean  lugon.  "j  ssedon  p  he  dri  waere.  |  "3  seac  ^ 
he  selcne  restne  dseg  gewsemde  for^on  |  ]?e  hyg  gesawon  •p  he 
6n  reste  dsegum  blinde  men  \  gelyhte.  }  hreoflan  aclsensode. 
^  deofolseocnissa  frarn  mannum  aflymde.  3  deade  awehte. 

15  "j  fala  |  o$ra  wundra  he  worhte.  3  ic  him  gelyfde  swa  |  sw£ 
ic  na  ne  seolden.  ^  hine  swingan  het.  3  |  hine  hym  syS^au  to 
heora  agenum  dome  ageaf.  |  "3  hig  hine  syS^an  6n  treowenre 
83b.]  rode  ahen  jgon.  3  ]?ser  6n 2  dead  wses  "j  seft  syS'San  he  bebyr|  *ged 
wses.  hyg  J>ser  to  hys  byrgene  gesetton  feo|wser  ^  feowertig 

20  cempena  J>e  ^Sone  lichaman  |  healdan  seoldon.  Ac  he  6n  "Sam 
Jmddan  dsege  |  of  dea^e  aras.  ^  ]>a.  hyrdas  hyt  eall  assedon 
•j.  |  hyt  forhelan  ne  mihton.  Ac  J>a  iudeas  J?a  |  hyg  ^  ge- 
hyrdou.  hyg  "Sam  hyrdon  feoh  geajfon.  y  hyg  -p  secgan 
seoldon.  -p  hys  cnihtas  co|raou.  "3  J>one  lichaman  farstelon. 

25  --j  pa  hyrjdas  pa  "p  feoh  onfengon  ^  hyg  swa  peh  pa  so^|fsest- 
nysse  pe  ^er  gewordon  wses  forsuwian  |  ne  rnihton.  Nu  leof 
cyning  ic  pe  eac  l£re  for|-Sig.  -p  ^u  nsefre  ^Ssera  iudea  leasunga 
ne  ge|lyfe.  Sy  drihten  lof  -3  deoflum  seorh  ^  to  worulde. 
AMEN. 


\wrh  MB.  2dn  above  line  in  MS. 


516  W.    H.    HULME. 

NOTES. 

A.   Comparison  of  the  Old  English  and  Latin  Texts. 

The  Old  English  follows,  as  Wiilker  (p.  13  et  seq.)  has 
shown  conclusively,  the  Latin  texts  designated  by  Tischendorf 
as  Dabc.  This  is  however  strictly  true  only  of  that  portion 
of  the  Old  English  which  corresponds  to  Part  I  of  the  Latin. 
There  are  so  few  differences  between  the  group  Dabc  and  the 
text  A  in  Part  II  (Descensus  ad  inferos)  that  it  is  difficult  to 
say  which  the  Old  English  has  followed.  The  translation  in 
Part  II  is  much  freeer  than  in  Part  I, — being  for  the  most 
part  rather  a  paraphrase  than  a  translation. 

1.  The  following  are  the  omissions  in  the  Old  English 
version,  according  to  the  Cambr.  MS.  : 

P.  471,  1.  11.  Consulatu  Rufini  et  Rubellionis  ....  sub 
principatu  sacerdotum  ludaeorum  loseph  et  Caiphae  (Tisch.,1 
p.  312). — L.  27.  Claudos  et  surdos,  gibberosos. — L.  28.  de 
nialis  actibus  after  deofolseoce.  Also  entire  sentence  Dicit  eis 
(ei)  Pilatus  Quarum  malarum  actionum  ?  Dicunt  ei  .  .  .  . 
(Tisch.  316). — L.  30.  et  omnia  illi  subjecta  sunt  after  adryfeft 
(Tisch.  316). 

P.  472, 1.  30.  Dicit  eis  Pilatus  Osanna  in  excelsis  quoinodo 
interpretatur  ?  Dicunt  ei  Salva  nos  qui  es  in  excelsis  (Tisch. 
319). 

P.  474,  1.  5.  se  rynel  hyne,  etc.  The  Old  English  trans- 
lator has  here  compressed  two  long  paragraphs  of  the  Latin 
(Tisch.  320-322)  into  two  short  sentences,  not  even  following 
the  order  or  sense  of  the  original.  The  entire  episode  of  the 
standard-bearers  and  their  standards  doing  obeisance  to  Christ 
as  he  entered  the  judgment  hall  (Tisch.  320),  and  Pilate's 
discussion  with  the  chiefs  of  the  synagogue  as  to  the  cause  of 
this  miraculous  event  (Tisch.  321)  is  compressed  into  the 
sentence  beginning  Ac  onmang  }>am  (1.  7). — L.  11.  Cogitante 
autem  eo  exsurgere  de  sede  sua  (Tisch.  322). 

1  Tischendorf  s  first  edition  (Leipzig,  1853)  has  served  as  text. 


THE   OLD    ENGLISH    GOSPEL   OF   NICODEMUS.  517 

P.  478,  1.  1.  Dicit  Pilatus  ludaeis  Vobis  dixit  dominus 
non  occideris,  sed  mihi  dixit  ut  occidara?  after  ofsleanne 
(Tisch.  327). 

P.  480,  1.  2.  Si  quis  Caesarem  blasphemaverit,  dignus  est 
morte  anne?  Besponderunt  ei  ludaei  Quanto  raagis  hie  qui 
deum  blasphemavit  dignus  est  mori  (Tisch.  329). — L.  13. 
Dicit  eis  Pilatus  Non  est  dignus  crucifigi.  Intuitus  vero 
praeses  in  populum  circumstantem  ludaeorum  vidit  plurimos 
lacrimantes  ludaeorum  et  dixit  Non  omnis  multitude  vult 
eum  mori.  Dicunt  seniores  ad  Pilatum  Ideoque  venimus 
universa  multitudo  ut  moriatur  (Tisch.  330). — L.  24.  After 
the  words  o$er  ne  dorste,  the  Old  English  omits  the  Latin 
from  the  beginning  of  Cap.  v  (Tisch.  331  :  Homo  iste 
multa  mirabilia  facit  et  signa  qnae  nullus  hominum  fecit 
nee  face  re  potest)  to  the  last  paragraph  of  Cap.  xi  (Tisch., 
p.  343 :  Stabant  autem  et  noti  eius  a  longe  et  mulieres,  etc.). 
The  omitted  chapters  repeat  to  a  considerable  extent  the 
subject-matter  of  preceding  chapters.  It  is  possible,  there- 
fore, that  the  Old  English  translator  omitted  this  long 
passage  from  the  original  in  order  to  avoid  repetition.  The 
Chapters  v— x  are  concerned  with  Nicodemus's  defense  of 
Christ,  the  testimony  of  various  Jews  in  the  presence  of  Pilate 
to  the  wonderful  healing  powers  of  the  Saviour,  and  the  final 
steps  in  his  trial.  Chapters  x-xi  relate  the  passion  and 
crucifixion  of  Christ  and  the  wonders  which  followed  upon 
the  crucifixion,  just  about  as  they  are  told  in  the  gospel 
narration. 

P.  482,  1.  19.  ante  diem  sabbati  usque  ad  unum  diem 
sabbatorum,  et  dixerunt  ei  (Tisch.  345). — L.  23.  Dicit  eis 
Joseph  Iste  sermo  superbi  Goliae  est,  qui  improperavit  deo 
vivo  ad  versus  sanctum  David.  Dixit  autem  deus  Mihi  vin- 
dictam,  ego  retribuam,  dicit  dominus.  Et  obstructus  corde 
Pilatus  accepit  aquam  et  lavit  manus  suas  ante  solem  dicens 
Innocens  ego  sum  a  sanguine  iusti  huius :  vos  videritis.  Et 
respondents  Pilato  dixistis  Sanguis  eius  super  nos  et  super 
filios  nostros.  Et  nunc  tirneo  ne  quando  veniat  ira  dei 


518  W.    H.    HULME. 

super  vos  et  super  filios  vestros,  sicut  dixistis.  Audientes 
autem  ludaei  sermones  istos  exacerbati  sunt  animo  nimis, 
et  apprehendentes  Joseph  (Tisch.  346)  after  wylddeorum. 
This  passage  is  a  repetition  in  part  of  what  has  preceded. 

P.  486, 1.  35.  Et  haec  audientes  principes  sacerdotum  .... 
et  quod  vidimus  eum  ascendentem  in  coelura  tacernus  (Tisch. 
351-2). 

P.  490, 1.  8.  et  non  invenerunt  after  haefdon  (Tisch.  355). — 
L.  29.  ascendens  after  daage  (Tisch.  357).— L.  35.  oranes  (Et 
osculati  sunt  eum  omnes). 

P.  492,  1.  2.  parasceve  after  daBge  (Tisch.  358).— L.  4. 
Israel.— L.  9.  Coram  deo  (Tisch.  359).— L.  22.  deduxit  me 
in  locum  ubi  sepelivi  eum,  et  ostendit  mini  sindonem  et 
fasciale  in  quo  caput  eius  involvi.  Tune  cognovi  quia  lesus 
est,  et  adoravi  eum  et  dixi  Benedictus  qui  venit  in  nomine 
domini  (Tisch.  361).— L.  29.  From  about  middle  of  §  1,  Cap. 
xvi  (Tisch.  361  :  et  exclamantes  ad  se  dixerunt  Quid  est 
hoc  signum,  etc.),  to  the  end  of  the  chapter  (Tisch.  367). 
The  contents  of  the  omitted  paragraphs  are  the  testimony  of 
Simeon  on  behalf  of  Christ,  the  account  of  Simeon's  bearing 
the  child  Jesus  in  his  arms  into  the  temple,  and  the  sending 
of  messengers  into  Galilee  to  interrogate  Addas,  Finees  and 
Egia  about  Christ's  teaching  on  Mt.  Mambre,  and  his  ascent 
from  this  mountain  into  heaven. 

P.  494,  1.  9.  et  moderatione  after  wurSmynte. — L.  27. 
Hanc  adiurationem  audientes  before  Karinus  and  Leucius 
(Tisch.  369). 

P.  496,  1.  3.  quae  in  inferis  fecisti  (Tisch.  370).— L.  20. 
vivus  in  clause  }>a  ic  on  eorSan  wses  (Tisch.  371). — L. 
26.  quod  superluxit  nobis. — L.  28.  infantem  natum  after 
J;one  )>e. — L.  29.  et  compulsus  spiritu  sancto. — L.  35.  vox 
et  before  witega. 

P.  498,  1.  2.  After  folces  the  Old  English  omits  the  latter 
part  of  Cap.  in  (Tisch.  372),  beginning  with  in  remissionem 
peccatorum  illorum,  and  ending  with  sedentibus  nobis  in 
tenebris  et  umbra  mortis. — L.  20.  gehseled  wurSe.  Old  Eng- 


THE   OLD   ENGLISH   GOSPEL   OF   NICODEMUS.  519 

lish  omits  immediately  following  sentence  (Tisch.  373),  tune 
veniet  super  terrain  .  .  .  .  et  spiritu  sancto  in  vitam  aeternam. 
— L.  21.  After  cym$,  in  terras. — L.  24.  After  gehyrende,  a 
Seth. — L.  31.  Before  myn  sawl,  dicens. 

P.  500,  1.  28.  fram  me  ateo,  the  following  Quis  est  iste 
lesus,  qui  per  verbum  suum  mortuos  a  me  traxit  sine  preci- 
bus  ? — L.  29.  Old  English  omits  foetentem  et  dissolutum  and 
transfers  quatriduanum  to  following  clause  (Tisch.  375). — L. 
31.  After  Satanas,  princeps  mortis. — L.  32.  Seo  hell,  Haec 
audiens  omitted. 

P.  502, 1.  12.  After  gelset,  in  aeternum.— L.  34.  After  )?am, 
similiter. 

P.  504,  1.  5.  After  sceolde  cuman,  Et  iterum  dixi  Ubi  est, 
mors,  aculeus  tuus?  Ubi  est,  infere,  victoria  tua? — L.  13. 
After  clypode  heo,  quasi  iguorans. — L.  15.  After  }?as  word, 
clamoris. — L.  16.  After  on  eorSan  wffis,  per  spiritum  eius; 
also  dico  tibi  Dominus  fortis  et  potens,  dominus  potens  in 
praelio,  ipse  est  rex  gloriae. — L.  18.  et  ut  solveret  filios  inter- 
emptorum. — L.  21.  After  gesprecenum,  ad  inferum  (Tisch. 
377). — L.  32.  Quis  es  tu  qui  ad  dominum  dirigis  confusionem 
nostram  ? 

P.  506,  1.  1.  After  heah,  miles  et  imperator;  also  et  rex 
gloriae  mortuus  et  vivus  quern  crux  portavit  occisum. — L.  5. 
Quis  es  tu  qui  illos  qui  origiuali  peccato  adstricti  tenentur 
absolvis  Captivos  et  in  libertatem  pristinam  revocas? — L.  12. 
Before  Butan,  tarn  praeclarus. — L.  14.  After  o3  nu,  qui  nostris 
usibus  tributa  persolvebat,  nunquam  nobis  talem  mortuum 
hominem  transmisit,  nunquam  talia  munera  inferis  destina- 
vit. — L.  18.  After  dea$,  crucis. — L.  22.  After  Satan,  princi- 
pem. — L.  23.  After  angeweald,  et  attraxit  Adam  ad  suam 
claritatem ;  also  cum  nimia  increpatioue  after  underfeng. — 
L.  35.  After  gehealtsumnysse,  O  princeps  Satan,  auctor  mortis 
et  origo  omnis  superbiae,  debueras  primum  istius  lesu  causam 
malam  requirere :  in  quern  nullam  culpam  cognovisti,  quare 
sine  ratione  iniuste  eum  crucifigere  ausus  fuisti,  et  ad  nostram 


520  W.    H.    HULME. 

regionem  innocentem  et  iustum  perduxisti,  et  totius  raundi 
noxios  impios  et  iniustos  perdidisti  ?  (Tisch.  381). 

P.  508,  1.  14.  After  bearnura,  iustis  meis. — L.  23.  After 
geswutelod,  Salvavit  sibi  dextera  eius  et  brachium  sanctum 
eius  (Tisch.  382). — L.  27.  After  Alleluia,  the  entire  last  para- 
graph of  Cap.  vin  (Tisch.  383) :  Et  post  haec  exclamavit 
Habacuc  propheta  dicens  Existi.  .  .  .  Sic  et  omnes  prophetae 
de  suis  laudibus  sacra  referentes  et  omnes  sancti  Amen  Alle- 
luia clamantes  sequebantur  dominum. 

P.  510,  1.  19.  After  geseah,  creatnrarum  mirabilia. — L.  29. 
Before  And  ic,  cum  hoc  fecissem. — L.  30.  And  he  me  sona, 
etc.,  the  preceding  Qui  cum  haec  a  me  audivit. — L.  31.  After 
ingelsedde,  et  collocavit ;  also  aperiens  preceding  the  same. 

P.  512,  L  3.  After  eca  feeder,  et  pater  misericordiarum. — 
L.  5.  After  gelsedde,  et  in  tua  pinguia  pascua  :  quia  haec  est 
spiritualis  vita  certissima. — L.  12.  After  gewryten,  in  singulos 
tomos  chartae  (Tisch.  387). — L.  14.  After  ageaf,  in  manus. 

2.  Passages  and  phrases  in  which  the  Old  English  follows 
the  Latin  only  in  part : 

P.  471,  1.  7.  imperii  Tiberii  Caesaris  imperatoris  Roman- 
orum  et  Herodis  filii  Herodis  regis  Galilaeae. — L.  11.  quanta 
post  crucem  ....  ipse  Nicodemus  litteris  hebraicis  employed 
partly  in  lines  4-5,  partly  in  lines  11-13. — L.  16.  For  swySe 
manege  o$re  Lat.  has  reliqui  ludaeorum  (Tisch.  314). — L. 
19.  and  hig  ]?eh  J>us  cw^don  corresponds  to  Lat.  dicentes 
(Tisch.  315). — L.  19.  fysne  geongan.  man  :  Lat.  Istum. — L. 
23.  sb  towyrpft  :  Lat.  legem  ....  vult  dissolvere  (Tisch.  316). 
The  sentence  beginning  Pilatus  hym  andswarode  ....  follows 
the  Lat.  of  Tischendorf  s  text  instead  of  the  Dab0.— L.  25. 
hyt  ys  on  ure  &  forboden  ]>set  man  ne  mot  nan  ]nng  gehalan 
on  restedagum  :  Lat.  In  lege  praeceptum  habemus  in  sabbato 
non  curare  aliquem. — L.  29.  Swylce  yfele  daeda  he  de$ :  Lat. 
Maleficus  est.  on  J?am  ealdre  Beelzebube  :  Lat.  in  Beelzebub 
principe  daemoniorum. 

P.  472,  1.  1.  hlyst  hys  worda :  Lat.  audire  eum. — L.  2. 
Het  geclypian  hys  senne  rynel :  Lat.  Advocans  autem  cur- 


THE    OLD    ENGLISH    GOSPEL   OF   NICODEMUS.  521 

sorem  (Tisch.  317). — L.  3.  Myd  gewyssum  gesceade  yrn  and 
clypa  to  me  ];one  J>e  ys  lesus  genemned  :  Lat.  Cum  modera- 
tione  modo  addticatur  lesus. — L.  5.  and  myd  mycelum  ofste 
wses  forS  yrnende :  Lat.  Exiens  vero  cursor. — L.  9.  Se 
dema,  etc. :  Lat.  Domine,  super  hoc  ambulans  ingredere, 
quia  praeses  vocat  te. — L.  11.  ]>a  ludeas  gesawon,  etc. :  Lat. 
Videntes  autem  ludaei  quod  fecit  cursor. — L.  12-15.  Hete 
....  gesawon  :  Lat.  Cur  eum  sub  praeconis  voce  non  ingredi 
fecisti,  sed  per  cursorem  ?  nam  et  cursor  videns  eum  adoravit 
ilium,  et  faciale  quod  tenebat  in  manu  expandit  ante  eum  in 
terra  et  dixit  ei  Domine,  vocat  te  praeses  (Tisch.  318). — 
L.  18.  ]?a  geseah  ic  hwaBr,  etc. :  Lat.  vidi  lesum  sedentem 
super,  etc. — L.  19-23.  The  Old  English  does  not  follow 
closely  any  one  of  the  Latin  texts  noted  by  Tischendorf. 
The  Dabc  group  has  a  different  word-order :  et  pueri  Hebrae- 
orum  clamabant  Osanna  ramos  (D°  adds  palmarum)  tenentes 
in  manibus  suis ;  alii  autem  sternebant  vestimenta  sua  in  via 
dicentes  Salva  nos  qui  es  in  Coelis :  benedictus  qui  venit  in 
nomine  domini. — L.  27.  hwa3t  hig  s^don :  Lat.  quod  clama- 
bant hebraice?  (Tisch.  319).— L.  28.  The  question  Quomodo 
autem  clamabant  hebraice  is  addressed  by  Pilate  to  the 
Hebrews,  and  in  the  original  the  Hebrews  answer :  Dixerunt 
ludaei  Osanna  in  excelsis,  while  in  the  Old  English  the 
rynel  answers  Pilate's  question. — L.  30.  The  Lat.  texts,  Da 
excepted,  here  introduce  another  question  by  Pilate  which 
is  not  found  in  the  Old  English ;  although  in  the  Old  Eng- 
lish the  answer  to  the  question  is  given  in  part.  After  the 
answer  of  the  Jews  (Osanna  in  excelsis)  there  follows  another 
question  by  Pilate :  Dicit  cis  Pilatus  Osanna  in  excelsis  quo- 
modo  interpretatur  ?  Dicunt  ei  Salva  nos  qui  es  in  excelsis. 
P.  474,  1.  4-5.  Lat.  et  dicit  ad  eum  Domine  ingredere, 
quia  praeses  te  vocat  (Tisch.  321). — L.  10.  Lat.  timor 
apprehendit  eum  et  coepit  exsurgere  de  sede  sua. — L.  13. 
For  |?am  ic  gehyrde,  etc. :  Lat.  Multa  enim  passa  sum  propter 
eum  in  hac  nocte. — L.  15-17.  Lat.  Numquid  non  diximus 
tibi  quia  maleficus  est?  ecce  somnium  immisit  ad  uxorem 


522  W.    H.    HULME. 

tuam  (Tisch.  323).— L.  18.  hu  fajla  fynga  fys  folc,  etc. :  Lat. 
quod  isti. — L.  23.  feet  we  sylfe,  etc. :  Lat.  Nos  vidimus,  et 
testamur  quod  vidimus. — L.  25.  iSyn  cynn  ys  .  .  .  .  untrew- 
fest :  Lat.  generatio  tua  est  .  .  .  .  et  infantum  interfectio 
propter  te  facta  est  (Tisch.  324). — L.  28.  bylewyte  and  gode: 
Lat.  benigni. — L.  31.  to  fam  folce:  Lat.  ad  ludaeos. — L.  34. 
fa  twegen,  etc.  Old  English  follows  text  C  here. 

P.  476,  1.  1.  clypiaiS  and  secga^S :  Lat.  Omnis  multitudo 
clamat. — L.  2.  selc  yfel  wyrcende :  Lat.  maleficus.  he  ys 
sylfa,  etc. :  Lat.  isti  autern  proselyti  sunt  et  discipuli  eius. — 
L.  7.  fa  ludeas :  Lat.  hi  (Tisch.  325).  fe  3ser  senig  god 
cufton:  Lat.  qui  testificati  sunt. — L.  13.  fe  myd  fam  hselend, 
etc. :  Lat.  qui  haec  dixerunt. — L.  14.  h wsefter  he,  etc. :  quo- 
niam  uon  est  natus  ex,  etc. — L.  16—18.  and  swa-feh-swa  .... 
forligere  acenned  :  Lat.  Sed  ipsi  iurent  per  salutem  Caesaris 
quoniam  non  est  sicut  diximus,  et  rei  surnus  mortis. — L. 
19-20.  fas  men  :  Lat.  duodecim  isti  (Tisch.  326).— L.  24. 
ongan  ....  to  axienne :  Lat.  dixit  Pilatus  ad  illos  xu  viros 
iustos. — L.  27.  forfamf e,  etc. :  Lat.  quoniam  sabbato  curat. — 
L.  30.  and  ut  eode :  Lat.  exiit  foras  praetorium. — L.  31.  fam 
folce :  Lat.  eis. — L.  31-32.  ic  hsebbe,  etc. :  Lat.  Testem 
habeo  solem  quia  nee  uuani  culpam  invenio  in  homine  isto 
(Tisch.  327). 

P.  478,  1.  6-7.  Lat.  gens  tua  et  principes  sacerdotum 
tradiderunt  te  mihi. — L.  11.  After  geseald  Lat.  has  uunc 
autem  regnum  meum  non  est  hinc. — L.  13.  andswarode  and 
cwseS  :  Lat.  respondit. — L.  15.  fset  selc  fsera,  etc. :  Lat.  ut 
testimonium  perhibeam  veritati,  et  omnis  qui  est  ex  veritate 
audit  meam  vocem  (Tisch.  328). — L.  19-21.  Begym,  etc.: 
Lat.  Intende,  veritatem  dicentes  quornodo  iudicantur  ab  his 
qui  potestatem  habent  in  terris. — L.  21-22.  Lat.  Kelinquens 
ergo  Pilatus  lesum  intus  praetorium,  exivit  ad  ludaeos,  etc. — 
L.  29.  Ic  gedo  fset  ge  ealle  geseo$  fa3t :  Lat.  vos  videritis 
(Tisch.  329). — L.  34.  yfel :  Lat.  nihil  ....  dignum  morte. 

P.  480,  1.  1 .  gise :  Lat.  Die  nobis. — L.  5.  genoh  hy t  ys, 
etc. :  Lat,  sicut  datum  est. — L.  6.  swa  Moyses  and  manega 


THE   OLD   ENGLISH   GOSPEL   OF   NICODEMUS.  523 

oftre  wytegan  :  Lat.  Moyses  et  prophetae. — L.  17.  ]?8es  nama, 
etc.  :  Lat.  Nicodemus  autem  quidam  vir,  etc. — L.  18.  La 
leof,  etc. :  Lat.  Rogo,  misericors. — L.  21.  ]?e  her  on  gefer- 
scype  syndon  :  Lat.  in  synagoga. — L.  23.  Swylce  word,  etc. : 
Lat.  Homo  iste  multa  signa  faciebat  et  gloriosa  quae  nullus 
hominum  fecit  nee  facere  potest. — L.  24.  pa  wses  hym  ]?ser 
neh,  etc. :  Lat.  Et  ecce  vir  quidam  nomine  Joseph,  agens 
curiam,  vir  bonus  et  iustus,  iste  non  fuit  consentiens  consiliis 
nee  actibus  eorum,  ab  Arimathia  civitate  ludaeorum,  exspec- 
taus  et  ipse  regnum  dei,  iste  abiit  ad  Pilatum  et  petiit  corpus 
lesti. — L.  32.  Lat.  in  quo  nullus  fuerat  positus. 

P.  482,  1.  1.  Ealle  hig  .  .  .  .  Nichodemus  sylfa :  Lat. 
Omnibus  autem  se  occultantibus  solus  Nicodemus  apparuit 
(Tisch.  344). — L.  6-7.  Lat.  Quomodo  ausus  es  ingredi  syna- 
gogam. — L.  8.  ]?u  "Se  wsere  ....  J?arn  hselende :  Lat.  Quia 
consentiens  Christo  eras. — L.  9.  Ac  sig,  etc. :  Lat.  Pars  illius 
fiat  tecum  in  futuro  secnlo. — L.  10.  he :  Lat.  Nicodemus. — 
L.  11.  hyne  a3tywde  and  heom  to  com  :  Lat.  subexiens.— L. 
12—16.  Is  hyt  for  J?am  ....  to  awylte :  Lat.  quia  petii  a 
Pilato  corpus  lesu  ?  Ecce  in  monumento  meo  posui  eum  et 
involvi  in  sindone  munda,  et  apposui  lapidem  magnum  ad 
ostium  speluncae. — L.  17.  ]?a3t  ge  hyne  ahengon,  etc. :  Lat. 
quoniam  non  estis  recordati  crucifigentes  et,  etc.  (Tisch. 
345). — L.  19.  hig  hyne:  Lat.  Joseph,  fseste  on  cwearterne 
beciysan  :  Lat.  eum  custodiri. — L.  20.  Oncnaw  nu,  etc. : 
Lat.  Agnosce  quia  hac  hora  incompetit  aliquid  agere  adver- 
sum  te. — L.  21.  J;a3t  $u  to J? oh  test :  Lat.  quia  sabbatum 
illucescit. — L.  22.  J>aet  $u  bebyrged  beo :  Lat.  sepultura. — 
L.  24-28.  ]?a  ludeas  J>a  hyne  ....  ofslean  woldon  :  Lat. 
incluserunt  eum  in  cubiculo  et  custodes  posuerunt  ad  ianuas, 
et  signaverunt  ianuam  ubi  erat  inclusus  Joseph,  et  consilium 
fecerunt  cum  sacerdotibus  et  Levitis  ut  congregarentur  omnes 
post  diem  sabbati,  et  cogitaverunt  qnali  morte  occiderent 
Joseph  (Tisch.  346).— L.  31-32.  Ac  hyt  gewearS,  etc. :  Lat. 
Hoc  facto  congregati  iusserunt  principes  Annas  et  Caiphas 
praesentari  Joseph. — L.  32.  And  Annas  and  Caiphas  .... 


524  W.    H.    HULME. 

na  Joseph  inne  funden  :  Lat.  Et  apportantes  clavern,  signato 
autem  ostio,  non  invenerunt  Joseph. 

P.  484,  ].  3.  sprsecon  and  ....  wundredon:  Lat.  admiran- 
tibus  (Tisch.  347). — L.  5.  healdan  sceoldon :  Lat.  custodie- 
bant. — L.  8.  uppan  J>arn  stane  gesset :  Lat.  super  earn. — L. 
10.  swa  J?set  we,  etc.,  is  an  independent  sentence  in  Lat. :  Et 
prae  timore  effecti  sumus  velut  mortui. — L.  18.  ys  hig :  Lat. 
praecedet  vos  (Tisch.  348). — L.  22.  hweet  wseron  :  Lat.  Quae 
sunt. — L.  25.  forj?am  "Se :  Lat.  et. — L.  27.  and  for  J>am  .... 
myhton:  Lat.  et  quomodo  potuissemus  apprehendere  mulieres 
illas? — L.  32.  swa  ]?eh  wel  ge,  etc.:  Bene  quidem  dixistis 
Vivit  dominus:  et  vere  vivit  ipse  dorninus,  quern  crucifixistis. 

P.  486,  1.  4-5.  and  p>a  ge  }?ser  to  comon :  Lat.  et  aperi- 
entes. — L.  7-8.  Joseph  we  magon  begytan  :  Lat.  Joseph  nos 
dabimus,  date  nobis  lesum. — L.  8.  for];am$e:  Lat.  autem. — 
L.  13.  gif  J>eos  spa3c,  etc. :  Lat.  Ne  quando  audientes  sermones 
istos  ornnes  credent  in  lesum  (Tisch.  349). — L.  16.  We  byd- 
daft  eow  leofe  geferan  j?£et  ge  secgan  swa  J?set :  Lat.  has 
simply  Dicite  quia. — L.  31.  J?a3t  hig  beon  gefullode :  Lat. 
baptizantes  eos  (Tisch.  351). 

P.  488,  1.  2-6.  pa  ealdras  ....  gespecen  habbaft  :  Lat. 
Statim  exsurgentes  principes  sacerdotum  tenentes  legem  domini 
coniuraverunt  eos  dicentes  Jam  nemini  amplius  adnuntietis 
verba  quae  nobis  locuti  estis  de  Jesu.  Et  dederunt  eis  pecu- 
niam  multam  (Tisch.  352). — L.  7.  And  J>a  Judeas,  etc. :  Lat. 
et  miserunt  cum  eis  tres  (alios  Dac)  viros  ut  deducerent  eos  in 
regiones  suas  ut  nullo  modo  starent  in  Jerusalem. — L.  9-11. 
And  ealle  ]>a  .  .  .  .  and  cwsedon  :  Lat.  Congregati  ergo  sunt 
omnes  Judaei  et  fecerunt  inter  se  magnam  lamentationem 
dicentes. — L.  12-J6.  In  this  passage  the  Old  English  gives 
merely  an  outline  of  the  long  Latin  passage  beginning  Annas 
autem  et  Caiphas  consolantes  eos,  etc.  (Tisch.  353),  and 
ending  with  the  words  Aut  nobis  habent  tenere  fidem  aut 
discipulis  Jesu. — L.  17.  be  Ysrahela  bearnum  :  Lat.  filii 
Israel. — L.  17-21.  Wel  ge  .  .  .  .  astigende:  Lat.  Vos  audistis 
omnia  quae  locuti  sunt  tres  illi  viri  iurantes  in  lege  domini, 


THE   OLD   ENGLISH   GOSPEL   OF   NICODEMUS.  525 

qui  dixerunt  Vidimus  lesum  loquentem  cum  discipulis  suis 
super  montem  oliveti,  et  vidimus  eum  ascendentem  in  coe- 
lum. — L.  21-24.  Da  ludeas  ....  ahafen,  a  very  free  transla- 
tion of  the  Lat. :  Et  docet  nos  scriptura  quod  beatus  Elias 
propheta  assumptus  est.  Et  interrogatus  Helisaeus  a  filiis 
prophetarum  Ubi  est  pater  noster  Elias  ?  dixit  eis  quia 
assumptus  est  (Tisch.  354). — L.  24-25.  For  J?a  cwsedon  sume 
J?e  -Sar  ....  wytegena  beam  the  Lat.  has  simply  Et  dixerunt 
filii  prophetarum. — L.  30-31.  Ac  hig  .  .  .  .  ne  myhton  :  Lat. 
et  non  invenerunt  eum. — L.  33.  After  Weald  ]?eah  se  gast 
the  Cambr.  MS.  omits  the  necessary  habbe  J?one  haelend  gelseht, 
which  is  however  in  the  Cotton  MS. 

P.  490,  1.  1-2.  and  J>one  haelend  .  .  .  .  ne  fundon  :  Lat. 
quaerentes  non  invenerunt  lesum  (Tisch.  355). — L.  2-3.  and 
hym  cyrrende  ....  waBron  :  Lat.  Et  reversi  dixerunt  cir- 
cumeuntibus,  etc. — L.  6.  For  $a  ealdras  and  msessepreostas 
the  Lat.  has  only  principes. — L.  10.  J>a  ealdras  and  msesse- 
preostas:  Lat.  principes  sacerdotum. — L.  12-15.  Instead  of 
following  the  Lat.  here  (Et  tollentes  tomum  chartae  scripserunt 
ad  Joseph  dicentes)  the  Old  English  inserts  the  beginning  of 
the  succeeding  paragraph  of  the  Lat.  {Et  elegerunt  septem 
viros  amicos  loseph  et  dixerunt  ad  eos). — L.  23.  After  eallum 
folce  the  hig  hym  seofon  weras  gecuron  should  follow  accord- 
ing to  the  Lat. — L.  23.  For  ]>SL  aarendracan  J>a  foron  and  to 
loseph  comon  the  Lat.  has  Et  pervenientes  viri  ad  loseph 
salutantes,  etc.  (Tisch.  357). — L.  26.  se$e  me  alysde :  Lat. 
qui  liberasti  me  ab  Israel  ut  non  effunderet  sanguinem 
meum. — L.  29.  For  wurSlice  the  Lat.  has  in  domum  suam. — 
L.  30-31.  wa?s  loseph  farende,  etc. :  Lat.  loseph  asinum 
suum  ambulavit  cum  illis  et  perrexerunt  in  lerusalem. 

P.  492,  1.  1.  myd  wurSscype :  Lat.  faciens  magnam  sus- 
ceptionem  (Tisch.  358). — L.  3-4.  La  we  ....  softau  gode: 
Lat.  Da  confessionem  deo. — L.  17.  and  me  cyste,  etc. :  Lat. 
Et  extergens  faciem  meam  osculatus  est  me  et  dixit  mi  hi,  etc. 
(Tisch.  360).— L.  18.  Eart  ]?u  la  lareo\v  Helia??— Lat,  Rab- 
boni  Helias. — L.  19.  After  J>a  cwseft  he  to  me  the  Cambr.  MS. 


526  W.    H.    HULME. 

omits  the  Lat.  Non  sum  Elias  ego,  but  it  is  in  the  Cotton 
MS. — L.  19.  se  hselend  :  Lat.  lesus  Nazarenus. — L.  25.  J?a 
$a  ludeas,  etc. :  Lat.  Cum  ....  principes  sacerdottim  et 
ceteri  sacerdotes  et  Levitae,  etc. — L.  26.  and  sume  adun 
feollon  :  Lat.  et  veluti  mortui  ceciderunt  super  facies  suas  in 
terram. — L.  30.  to  softon  wel :  Lat.  Vere  et  bene  (Tisch. 
368).— L.  30-33.  hyt  is  to  ....  byrgene  ararde  :  Lat. 
admiramini  quoniam  audistis  quod  visus  est  lesus  de  morte 
vivus  ascendisse  in  coelum.  Vero  plus  admirandum  est  quia 
non  solum  resurrexit  a  mortuis,  sed  etiam  mortuos  de  monu- 
mentis  resuscitavit,  et  a  multis  visi  sunt  in  Jerusalem. 

P.  494,  1.  3-4.  And  ealle  we  ....  comon :  Lat.  et  nos 
omnes  in  dormitione  et  in  sepultura  eorum  fuimus. — L.  4-8. 
and  we  magon  ....  sprecan :  Lat.  et  videte  monumenta 
eorum  :  aperta  enim  sunt,  quia  surrexerunt,  et  ecce  sunt  in 
civitate  Arimathia,  simul  viventes  in  orationibus.  Et  quidem 
audiuntur  clamantes  cum  nemine  autem  loquentes,  sed  sunt 
ut  mortui  silentes  (Tisch.  369). — L.  9-11.  and  hig  georne 
....  gewordene  syndon  :  Lat.  Et  coniurantes  eos,  forsitan 
loquentur  nobis  de  resurrection  is  eorum  mysterio. — L.  12. 
J?a3t  folc  hym  wses,  etc. :  Lat.  Haec  audientes  omnes  gavisi 
sunt. — L.  12.  and  to  Arimathia,  etc.  The  Old  English  has 
changed  the  order  of  the  Latin  words :  Et  euntes  Annas  et 
Caiphas,  Nicodemus  et  Joseph  et  Gamaliel  non  invenerunt 
eos  in  sepulcro  eorum ;  sed  ambulantes  in  civitatem  Arima- 
thiam  ibi  eos  invenerunt,  etc. — L.  22.  ]?a  boc  ]>e  seo  drihtenlice, 
etc. :  Lat.  legem  domini. — L.  23.  and  J?us  cwa3don :  We,  etc. : 
Lat.  Coniurantes  eos  per  deum  Adonai  et  deum  Israel  qui 
per  legem  et  prophetas  locutus  est  patribus  nostris,  dicentes 
Si  lesum  esse  creditis  qui  vos  a  mortuis  resuscitavit  ?  dicite 
nobis  qtiomodo  resurrexistis  a  mortuis. — L.  27.  heom  and- 
swaredon  and  ];us  cwsedon  :  Lat.  Karinus  et  Leucius  con- 
tremuerunt  corpore  et  conturbati  corde  gemuerunt.  Et  simul 
respicientes  in  coelum  fecerunt  signaculum  crucis  digitis  suis 
in  linguas  suas,  et  statim  simul  locuti  sunt  dicentes  (Tisch. 
370). — L.  28.  ]?a  cartan  :  Lat.  singulos  tomos.  J>a3t  we  .... 


THE   OLD   ENGLISH   GOSPEL   OF   NICODEMUS.  527 

awrytan,  etc. :  Lat.  et  scribamus  quod. — L.  29-31.  Jra  ealdras 
....  gebyrede  :  Lat.  has  simply  Et  dederunt  eis.  Et  sedentes 
siDguli  scripserunt  dicentes. — L.  33.  lif  and  serest :  Lat. 
resurrectio  et  vita. — L.  34.  ]>a  godcundan  gerynu  geswute- 
lian  :  Lat.  loqui  mysteria. — L.  35.  Jmrh  J?ynne  deaft :  Lat. 
per  mortem  crucis  tuae. 

P.  496,  1.  2.  J?a  godcundan  mserSa :  Lat.  secreta. — L.  3. 
geswutelian  ne  moston  :  Lat.  iussisti  ....  nemini  referre. — 
L.  7.  hellican  deopnysse :  Lat.  in  profundo  in  caligne  tene- 
brarum. — L.  13-16.  J?a  wa3S  sona  ....  hig  ]?us  cw^don : 
Lat.  Statimque  omnis  generis  humani  pater  cum  omnibus 
patriarchis  et  prophetis  exultaverunt  dicentes  (Tisch.  371). — 
L.  17.  call  swa :  Lat.  quae. — L.  21-22.  J;a3t  ftset  land  Zabulon 
....  leoht  geseon  :  Lat.  Terra  Zabulon  et  terra  Nephthalim 
trans  lordanem,  Galilaeae  gentium. — L.  22.  Sceoldon  .... 
geseon  :  Lat.  vidit.  Msere  leoht :  lucem  magnam. — L.  23. 
dyrnmum  ryce  wuuedon :  Lat.  sunt  in  regioue  umbrae  mortis. 
— L.  23-24.  Ic  witegode  }>set  hig  leoht  sceoldon  onfou  :  Lat. 
lux  fulgebat  inter  eos. — L.  26.  heom  eallum  geblyssigendum : 
Lat.  supervenit  nobis.  Se  wytega  J?a  Symeon  :  Lat.  genitor 
noster  Simeon. — L.  29-31.  And  ic  ]?a  )nis  cw&e$  .... 
Ysrahela  folce :  Lat.  dixi  ad  eum  confessus  quia  nunc  vide- 
runt  oculi  mei  salutare  tuum,  quod  praeparasti  in  conspectu 
omnium  populorum,  lumen  ad  revelationem  gentium  et 
gloriam  plebis  tuae  Israel. — L.  31.  Symeone  ]?a  $us  ge- 
sprecenum  :  Lat.  Haec  audiens. — L.  33-34.  And  ealie  J?a 
....  and  cwsedon :  Lat.  et  interrogatur  ab  omnibus. 

P.  498, 1.  2.  and  geican  J>a  hale  hys  folces :  Lat.  ad  dandam 
scientiam  salutis  plebi  eius  (Tisch.  372). — L.  2.  Adam  }>a,  etc. 
The  Old  English  changes  a  dependent  (cum)  clause  of  the 
original  into  an  independent  sentence. — L.  4.  and  Jjysum 
heahfffiderum  :  Lat.  filiis  tuis  patriarchis  et  prophetis. — L. 
10.  myd  eallum  untrum  wses :  Lat.  cum  essem  infirmus. — 
L.  13.  se  heahengel :  Lat.  angelus  domini  (Tisch.  373). — L. 
16-20.  ne  J>earft  ]m  swincan  ....  gehseled  wurSe :  Lat.  noli 
laborare  lacrimis  ovando  et  deprecando  propter  oleum  ligni 


528  W.    H.    HULME. 

misericordiae,  ut  perunguas  patrem  tnum  Adam  pro  dolore 
corporis  sui,  quia  nullo  modo  poteris  ex  eo  accipere  nisi  in 
novissimis  diebus  et  temporibus,  nisi  quando  completi  fuerint 
quinque  millia  et  quingenti  anni. — L.  22.  jjynne :  Lat.  nos- 
trum.— L.  26.  Hyt  wa3S  swySe  angrislic:  Lat.  corresponding 
(Tisch.  373,  Cap.  iv)  seems  to  be  Et  cum  exultarent  sancti 
omnes. — L.  27.  J>a3re  belle  ealdor :  Lat.  princeps. — L.  29.  se 
hyne  sylfne  gewuldrod  haef'S  and  ys  godes  sunu  :  Lat.  qui 
se  gloriatur  filium  dei  esse  (Tiscb.  374). — L.  31.  ys  swa  unrot 
J?a3t  me  J?inc3  J>set  ic  abybban  ne  ma3g :  Lat.  Tristis  est  anima 
mea  usque  ad  mortem. — L.  32.  for  ]>ig :  Lat.  Et. — L.  33-35. 
and  fsela  J?e  ic  hsefde  ....  be  fram  ]?e  atyhft :  Lat.  et  multos 
quos  ego  coecos  claudos  surdos  leprosos  et  vexatos  feci,  ipse 
verbo  sanavit;  et  quos  ad  te  mortuos  perduxi,  bos  ipse  a  te 
abstraxit. 

P.  500, 1.  1.  J>am  ealdan  deofle:  Lat.  ad  Satan  priucipem. — 
L.  2.  swa  strang  and  swa  myhtig  :  Lat.  tarn  ....  potens. — L. 
2-4.  gif  he  man  ys  .  .  . .  beclysed  haBfdon :  Lat.  cum  sit  homo 
timens  mortem  ? — L.  4-6.  for  J>am  ealle  ]?a  $e  .  .  .  .  hig  faBste 
geheold  :  Lat.  omnes  enim  potentes  terrae  mea  potestate  sub- 
iecti  tenentur,  quos  tu  subiectos  perduxistis  tua  potentia. — L. 
7.  se  man  and  se  haslend :  Lat.  homo  ille  lesus. — L.  7.  J>e  ne 
sig,  etc. :  Lat.  uses  positive  form  of  discourse  instead  of  nega- 
tive, qui  tirnens  mortem  potentiae  tuae  adversatur  ? — L.  8.  ac 
to  so'Son  ic  wat :  Lat.  vere  dico  tibi. — L.  10.  hym :  Lat. 
potentiae  eius. — L.  11.  and  ic  wat  gif  se  dea$  hyne  ondraBt : 
Lat.  Et  cum  dicit  se  timere  mortem. — L.  12.  Jwnne  ge- 
fohft  he  J?e  :  Lat.  capere  te  vult. — L.  14.  ofrSe  :  Lat.  et. — L. 
16.  mynne  wyiSerwynnan  and  eac  ];ynne :  Lat.  adversarium 
tuum  et  meurn. — L.  17.  eal  ]>sdt  ludeisce  folc :  Lat.  populum 
meum  antiquum  ludaicum. — L.  17-18.  and  ic  gedyde  .... 
myd  yrre  and  myd  andan  awehte :  Lat.  excitavi  zelo  et  ira. — 
L.  18.  and  ic  gedyde  }>set  he  wa3S  myd  spere  gesticod  :  Lat. 
lanceam  exacui  ad  percussionem  eius. — L.  19.  ic  gedyde  J?a3t 
....  man  mengde :  Lat.  miscui. — L.  20.  ic  gedyde  J?set 
man  ....  gegearwode  :  Lat.  praeparavi. — L.  22.  ic  wylle 


THE   OLD    ENGLISH    GOSPEL    OF    NICODEMUS.  529 

hys  deaft  to  $e  gelsedan :  Lat.  est  eius  mors,  ut  perducara 
eum  ad  te  (Tisch.  375). — L.  23.  he  sceal  beon  underj?eod : 
Lat.  subiectum. — L.  24-25.  Wyte  ]>set  $u  .  .  .  .  me  ne 
ateo :  Lat.  Tu  mihi  dixisti  quia  ipse  est  qui  mortuos  a  me 
abstraxit. — L.  26-28.  geornfulle  frani  me  ....  fram  me  ateo : 
Lat.  qui  a  me  hie  detenti  sunt,  qui  -dum  vixerunt  in  terris  a 
me  rnortuos  tulerunt,  non  suis  potentiis  sed  divinis  precibus, 
et  omnipotens  deus  eorum  abstraxit  eos  a  me. — L.  29.  se  3e : 
Lat.  Forsitan  ipse  est  qui. — L.  34.  ]>sdt  ftu  nsefre  ....  on  me 
cume :  Lat.  ne  perducas  eum  ad  me. 

P.  502,  1.  3.  gedrehte  and  gedrefede :  Lat.  conturbata 
sunt. — L.  3.  swa  ]>set  we,  etc. :  Lat.  has  an  independent 
sentence. — L.  5-6.  J>onne  he  myd  hraedum  flyhte  ....  fram 
us  raesende :  Lat.  per  omnen  agilitatem  et  celeritatem  salivit 
exiens  a  nobis. — L.  8.  eall  ]>&t :  Lat,  haec  (Tisch.  376, 1). 
gedyde :  Lat.  potuit  facere.  ]>a3t  he  ys  on  gode  strang 
and  myhtig :  Lat.  deus  fortis  est  in  irnperio,  potens  in 
humanitate,  et  salvator  est  generis  humani. — L.  12-14.  Ac 
arnang  ....  ]nis  cweiSende :  Lat.  Et  cum  haec  ad  invicem 
loquerentur  Satan  princeps  et  inferus,  subito  facta  est  vox  ut 
tonitruum  et  spiritualis  clamor. — L.  14-15.  Tollite  ....  rex 
gloriae,  this  Lat.  sentence  is  just  as  it  appears  in  Tisch.'s 
text  (376,  Cap.  v,  1.  3). — L.  21.  and  gewurSe  ]>e  and  hym  : 
Lat.  Sed  quid  tibi  cum  illo  ? — L.  22.  and  cwa3$  :  Lat.  Et 
dixit  inferus. — L.  26.  seo  msenigeo :  Lat.  omnis  multitude. — 
L.  27.  ealle  anre  stefne:  Lat.  cum  voce  increpationis. — L.  32. 
and  J>a  serenan  gatu  and  J>a  ysenan  scyttelsas  tobrecon  :  Lat. 
quia  contrivit  portas  aereas  et  vectes  ferreos  confregit. — L. 
33.  wyle  genyman  :  Lat.  suscepit. 

P.  504,  1.  3.  and  maeuige  byrgena  geopenod  weorSan  :  Lat. 
et  resurgent  qui  in  monumentis  sunt. — L.  5.  hsel  sceolde 
cuman :  Lat.  ros  qui  est  a  domino  sanitas  est  illis. — L.  8.  and 
myd  eallum  oferswySed  :  Lat.  victus. — L.  12.  gehyrde :  Lat. 
videns. — L.  14.  hyre :  Lat.  ad  iuferum. — L.  16.  and  ic  hyt 
gecwa3$  j?set :  Lat.  Et  nunc  quae  supra  dixi. — L.  17.  wolde 
....  beseon  :  Lat.  prospexit. — L.  20.  ecan  wuldres :  Lat. 
6 


530  W.    H.    HULME. 

gloriae. — L.  23.  synbendas:  Lat.  indissolubilia  vincula  (Tisch. 
378). — L.  24-25,  and  he  ure  ealdfsederas  ....  wunigende 
wseron :  Lat.  et  invictae  virtutis  auxilium  visitavit  DOS  se- 
dentes  in  profundis  tenebris  delictorum  et  in  umbra  mortis 
peccatorum. — L.  29-30.  on  J>am  setle  ....  geahnod  hsefde: 
Lat,  in  suis  sedibus. 

P.  506,  1.  1.  anes  mannes  hy  we :  Lat.  in  forma  servi. — L. 
5.  freoh  is  for  freo. — L.  9.  syndon  swySe  afyrhte :  Lat.  simili 
perterritae  pavore  expavida  subvertatione  (Tisch.  379). — L. 
12.  and  swa  clsene  fram  selcon  leahtre :  Lat.  et  mundus  a 
crimine. — L.  15.  us  to  eart  cumen  :  Lat.  nostros  fines  ingres- 
sus  es. — L.  15—16.  and  J>ar  to  eacan  ....  on  bendum  heoldon : 
Lat.  et  non  solum  nostra  supplicia  non  vereris,  sed  insuper 
de  nostris  vinculis  omnes  auferre  conaris? — L.  19.  Ac:  Lat. 
Tune. — L.  23.  heo  hyne:  Lat.  inferus  ....  Satan  principem. 
— L.  25.  ealre  forspyllednysse :  Lat.  perditionis. — L.  26-28. 
and  la  $u  ord  and  fruma  ....  ealra  .modignysse :  Lat.  et  dux 
exterrn inationis  Beelzebub,  derisio  angelorum,  sputio  iustorum 
(Tisch.  380). — L.  28-33.  for  hwig  gedyrstlsehtest  );u  .  .  .  . 
ongean  ]?e  and  eac  ongean  me :  Lat.  quid  haec  facere  voluisti  ? 
regem  gloriae  crucifigere  voluisti,  in  cuius  exitu  mortis  tanta 
spolia  nobis  promisisti?  Ignorasti  ut  insipiens  quod  egisti. 
Ecce  iam  iste  lesus  suae  divinitatis  fulgore  fugat  omnes  tene- 
bras  mortis,  et  firma  ima  carcerum  confregit,  et  eiecit  captivos 
et  solvit  vinctos.  Et  omnes  qui  sub  nostris  solebant  suspirare 
tormentis  insultant  nobis,  et  deprecationibus  eorum  expug- 
nantur  imperia  nostra  et  regna  nostra  vincuntur,  et  millum 
iam  nos  reveretur  genus  hominum.  Insuper  et  fortiter  nobis 
couiminantur  qui  nunquam  nobis  superbi  faerunt  mortui  nee 
aliquando  potuerunt  laeti  esse  captivi.  O  princeps  Satan, 
omnium  malorum  impiorum  et  refugarum  pater,  quid  haec 
facere  voluisti?  Qui  a  principio  usque  nunc  fuerunt  desperati 
salutem  et  vitam,  modo  nullus  eorum  hie  iam  solito  mugitus 
auditur  nee  ullus  eorum  personal  gemitus,  nee  in  alicuius 
eorum  facie  lacrimarum  vestigium  invenitur.  O  princeps 
Satan,  possessor  clavium  inferorum,  illas  tuas  divitias  quas 


THE   OLD    ENGLISH    GOSPEL   OF   NICODEMUS.  531 

acquisieras  per  lignum  praevaricationis  et  paradisi  amissio- 
nem,  nunc  per  lignum  crucis  perdidisti ;  et  periit  omnis 
laetitia  tua.  Dum  istum  Christum  lesum  regem  gloriae  sus- 
pendisti,  adversum  te  et  adversum  me  egisti  (Tisch.  380-381). 

P.  508,  1.  4.  J?e  ge  Adam  ....  on  geheoldon :  Lat.  Adae 
et  filiorum  eius,  iustorum  rneorum.— »-L.  5-6.  se  wuldorfulla 
dryhten:  Lat.  dominns. — L.  7.  myne  gelycnysse:  Lat.  imagi- 
nem  et  similitudinem  meam. — L.  8.  j?a3S  treowes  bleda  :  Lat. 
per  lignum  et  diabolum  et  mortem. — L.  9-10.  geseoft  nu  ]>sst 
....  and  eac  J>one  deofol :  Lat.  modo  videte  per  lignum 
damnatum  diabolum  et  mortem. — L.  17.  heofena  hlaford  : 
Lat.  domine  (Tisch.  382). — L.  17.  The  short  sentence  ]>&t  $u 
me  of  J?ysse  cwycsusle  onfon  woldest  corresponds  to  the  Lat. 
passage  beginning  quouiam  suscepisti  me,  and  ending  with 
the  words  ne  mors  dominetur  amplius  (Tisch.  382). — L.  22. 
myd  stranglicre  stefne :  Lat.  fortiter. — L.  23.  for  J>am  ~Se 
dryhten  ....  peodum  geswutelod:  Lat.  quia  mirabilia  fecit. — 
L.  33-34.  and  ealle  )>a  halgan  ....  heom  Jms  to  cwaBdon  : 
Lat.  Interrogati  autem  a  sanctis  Qui,  etc.  (Tisch.  384). — L. 
35.  Hwa3t  syndon  ....  and  ge  nu  gyt  deade,  etc. :  Lat.  Qui 
estis  vos  qui  nobiscum  in  inferis  mortui  nondum  fuistis  et,  etc. 

P.  510,  1.  2.  se  ofter :  Lat.  unus  ex  eis. — L.  4.  Thesbyten  : 
Lat.  Thesbites. — L.  5.  craBte :  Lat.  curru. — L.  5.  and  wyt : 
Lat.  Hie  et  usque  nunc  non  gustavimus,  etc. — L.  9.  bynnan 
feorSan  healfes  dseges :  Lat.  post  triduum  et  dimidium  diei. — 
L.  13.  J>a  halgan :  Lat.  omnes  sancti. — L.  15.  anes  sceaftan  : 
Lat.  latronis. — L.  27.  neorxna  wanges  geate :  Lat.  custos 
paradisi  (Tisch.  385). — L.  27.  fte  inganges  fonvyme :  Lat. 
si  non  dimiserit  te  ingredi. — L.  31.  on  J?a  swySran  healfe 
neorna  wanges  geates :  Lat.  ad  dexteram  paradisi. — L.  32. 
and  he  me  geanbydian  het  and  me  to  cwseft  :  Geanbyda  her : 
Lat.  has  simply  dicens  Ecce  modicum  sustine. — L.  32.  o$ 
]>set :  Lat.  et. — L.  33.  ]>e  se  fseder  Adam  ....  wa3ron  on  pare 
helle :  Lat.  pater  Adam  cum  omnibus  filiis  suis  sanctis  et 
iustis  post  triumpham  et  gloriam  ascensionis  Christi  domini 
crucifixi. 


532  W.    H.    HULME. 

P.  512,  1.  8.  For  fta  twegen  wytegan,  etc.,  the  Lat.  has 
quae  vidimus  et  audiviruus,  ego  Karinus  et  Lencius. — L. 
9-11.  eall  swa  ic  ser  her  ....  of  deafte  awehte.  The  Old 
English  has  compressed  into  these  few  lines  the  long  Lat. 
passage  beginning  Amplius  non  stimus  permissa  enarrare 
(Tisch.  385),  and  ending  with  the  words  Pax  vobis  ab  ipso 
domino  lesu  Christo  et  salvatore  omnium  nostrorum.  Amen 
(Tisch.  387). — L.  13.  his  cartan  :  Lat.  quod  scripsit. — L.  15. 
Sibb  sig,  etc.,  corresponds  to  the  last  part  of  the  preceding 
paragraph  in  the  original:  Pax  vobis,  etc. — L.  17.  And 
Carinus  and  Leuticus  ....  nyston  hwseder  hig  foron  :  Lat. 
Et  subito  transfigurati  sunt  candidati  nimis,  et  non  sunt  visi 
amplius. — L.  21.  Ac  J>a  ealdras  f>a  and  .  .  .  .  ne  furSon  be 
anum  prican:  Lat.  Scripta  autem  eorum  inventa  sunt  aequalia 
nihil  maius  aut  minus  littera  una. — L.  24-27.  And  $a  p>a 
gewyrtu  ....  gebletsod  aworuld  aworuld.  Amen  :  Lat.  Ista 
omnia  admiranda  Karini  et  Leucii  dicta  audiens  omnis  syna- 
goga  ludaeorum,  ad  iuvicem  dixerunt  Vere  ista  omnia  a 
domino  sunt  facta,  et  benedictus  dominus  in  secula  seculorum. 
Amen. — L.  33-34.  eall  atealdon  be  ]?am  twam  wytegum  .... 
and  be  ealre  J>sere  fare  ]?e  hym  seror  bedyglod  wses :  Lat.  Haec 
omiiia  quae  dicta  sunt  a  ludaeis  in  synagoga  eorum  (Tisch. 
388). 

P.  514, 1.  1.  On  hys  domerne.  The  Old  English  translator 
has  here  connected  the  last  paragraph  of  Cap.  xi  (Tisch.  388) 
with  the  beginning  of  Cap.  xm  (Tisch.  392),  thus  omitting 
the  entire  Cap.  xn.  The  following  is  a  brief  outline  of  the 
contents  of  Cap.  xn :  Pilate  assembles  the  leaders  of  the  Jews 
in  the  temple  at  Jerusalem  and  demands  that  they  find  out  by 
a  careful  examination  of  their  secret  sacred  writings  whether 
Jesus  is  to  come  into  the  world  for  the  salvation  of  man  ;  and 
in  how  many  years  he  may  be  expected  to  come.  Annas 
and  Caiphas  then  dismiss  the  multitude  from  the  assembly, 
and  in  secret  conference  with  Pilate  they  inform  him  that 
they  have  already  examined  their  MSS.  and  have  discovered 
that  they  have  unwittingly  crucified  the  true  Saviour,  the 


THE   OLD   ENGLISH    GOSPEL   OF   NICODEMDS.  533 

Son  of  God.  They  beseech  Pilate,  however,  not  to  make  this 
known  in  Jerusalem.  After  hearing  their  communication 
Pilate  records  it  in  the  public  records  in  his  Judgment  hall, 
and  sends  a  letter  to  the  Emperor  Claudius  at  Rome,  in 
which  he  describes  at  length  the  actions  of  the  Jews. 

This  letter  of  Pilate  has  been  so  compressed  and  abbrevi- 
ated in  the  Old  English  translation  that  I  give  the  original 
in  its  entirety  according  to  Tisch.  (392-395)  for  convenient 
comparison : 

Pontius  Pilatus  Claudio  regi  suo  salutem.  Nuper  accidit, 
quod  et  ipse  probavi,  ludaeos  per  invidiam  se  suosque  pos- 
teros  crudeli  condemnatione  punisse.  Denique  cum  promissum 
haberent  patres  eorum  quod  illis  deus  eorum  mitteret  de  coelo 
sanctum  suum,  qui  eorum  merito  rex  diceretur,  et  hunc  se 
promiserit  per  virginem  missurum  ad  terras :  iste  itaque  me 
praeside  in  ludeam  cum  venisset,  et  vidissent  eum  caecos 
illuminasse,  leprosos  mundasse,  paralyticos  curasse,  daemones 
ab  hominibus  fugasse,  mortuos  etiam  suscitasse,  imperasse 
vends,  ambulasse  siccis  pedibus  super  undas  man's,  et  multa 
alia  signa  miraculorum  fecisse :  et  cum  omuis  populus  ludae- 
orum  filium  dei  ilium  esse  diceret,  invidiam  contra  eum 
passi  sunt  principes  sacerdotum  et  tenerunt  eum  et  mihi 
tradiderunt,  et  alia  pro  aliis  mihi  mentientes  dixerunt  istum 
magnum  esse  et  contra  legem  eorum  agere. 

Ego  autem  credidi  ita  esse,  et  flagellatum  tradidi  ilium 
arbitrio  eorum.  Illi  autem  crucifixerunt  eum,  et  sepulto 
custodes  adhibuerunt.  Ille  autem  militibus  meis  custodienti- 
bus  die  tertio  resurrexit.  In  tantum  autem  exarsit  iniquitas 
ludaeorum  ut  darent  pecunias  militibus  meis  dicentes  Dicite 
quia  discipuli  eius  corpus  ipsius  rapuerunt.  Sed  cum  accepis- 
sent  pecunias,  quod  factum  fuerat  tacere  non  potuerunt :  nam 
et  ilium  resurrexisse  testati  sunt  se  vidisse  et  se  a  ludaeis 
pecuniam  accepisse. 

Haec  ideo  ingressi  ne  quis  aliter  mentiatur,  et  existimes 
credenduni  mendaciis  ludaeorum. 


534  W.    H.   HTJLME. 

3.  Old  English  words,  phrases,  etc.,  which  have  no  equiva- 
lent in  the  Latin  : 

P.  471,  1.  14.  fa  yldestan  ludeas  fe  ftser  a3t  wseron,  wseron 
fus  genemned. — L.  18.  and  he  ne  wearS  nsefre  nane  wyr- 
cende. — L.  20.  and  we  fset  wyton  fa?t. — L.  21.  and  eac  he 
seg$  f«t  he  sylf. — L.  25.  Andswaredon. — L.  26.  feh  hyt 
lama  beo. — L.  27.  fes  man. 

P.  472,  1.  4.  Se  rynel  fa  swa  dyde.— L.  8.  hymsylf  far 
wyft  feoll  on  eorSan  astreht  and  cwseft. — L.  10.  Ac  se 
haBlend  .  .  .  .  ne  andswarode. — L.  17.  cyninge. — L.  27.  sona. 
— L.  34.  and  ne  cufton  nane  andsware  syllan. 

P.  474,  1.  2.  and  fone  haBlend  gemetende. — L.  34.  fa 
twegen  waBlhreowan  wySersacan.  la  leof  dema. 

P.  476,  1.  6.  And  secgaS  leas  myd  hym. — L.  11.  hlyste 
se$e  wylle. — L.  20.  Hum  we  sylfe  wyton  fset. 

P.  478,  1.  7.  Nast  fu  f«t  ealle  ludeisce.— L.  8.  Ac  sege 
me. — L.  24.  gyse  gyt  he  segft  mare. 

P.  480,  1.  11.  fe  he  spycS.— L.  16.  sylfa.— L.  22.  Ic 
axie  eow. 

P.  482,  1.  3.  fa  com  ....  gesomnunga  hsefdon. — L.  5. 
fa3t  ic  hyt  seror  nyste. — L.  16.  And  ic  secge  to  soiSon. — L. 
28-31.  Ac  hyt  wa3s  ....  ateon  myhton. 

P.  484,  1.  4.  J;a  stod. — L.  5-6.  J?8et  ic  wat  fa  we  J?a3S 
haBlendes  byrgene  heoldon. — L  9.  and  ic  wat  fset. — L.  18. 
]?a3r  hig  hyne  magon  geseon. — L.  19.  fa  hig  fa3t  gehyrdon. — 
L.  24.  ne  we  hyt  witan  ne  myhton. — L.  31.  on  fone  fe  ge 
gelyfan  sceoldon. 

P.  486,  1.  1.  fa3t  secgan. — L.  10.  fonne  secge  we  fa3t. — L. 
15.  Ac  ic  wat  faBt. — L.  22.  And  fa  gelamp  nywan  fa3t. — 
L.  33.  sefre  on  ecnysse. 

P.  488,  1.  6-7.  fa  fry  weras  heom  fa  andswaredon  and 
saedon  fa3t  hig  swa  woldon. — L.  12.  landa. — L.  17.  Wytaft 
feet. — L.  28.  and  fa  ylcan  weras  ....  swa  don  sceoldon. — 
L.  31.  fa  cwseft  Nichodemus. 

P.  490,  1.  1.  manige.— L.  4.  eall  Ysrahela  land.— L.  9. 
fset  folc. — L.  15.  Seo  wa3s  fus  awry  ten. — L.  17.  Ac  we 


THE   OLD   ENGLISH   GOSPEL  OF  NICODEMUS.  535 

byddaft  fe  on  eoruest  fset. — L.  25.  on  hand. — L.  35.  And 
hig  fa  hyru  genealsehton. 

P.  492,  1.  12,  and  hig  georne  sang.— L.  21.  ryht.— L.  23. 
Joseph. — L.  27.  lande. — L.  34.  and. — L.  35.  serost. 

P.  494,  1.  1.  halgan.— L.  2.  fa  wseron  hatene:  Se  o$er 
Carinus  and  se  o$er  Leuticus. — L.*  11.  fa  $a  Joseph  eall 
fys  Jms  gesprecen  hsefde. — L.  13.  and  fser  gewytan  woldon 
hwsefter  hit  soS  wsere  fset  Joseph  gesprecen  hsefde. — L.  28. 
We  wyllaft  eac. — L.  29.  eac. — L.  31.  Karinus  and  Leuticus 
heom  wseron  fa  $a  cartan  onfonde,  heora  segfter  ane. 

P.  496, 1.  1.  and  f  urh  fyne  seryste,  la  $u  myldosta  hlaford. 
— L.  3-6.  We  byddaft  f  e  alyf  hyt  us.  Heom  com  ....  and 
f  us  cwtedon. — L.  8.  on  fsere  feostra  ....  and  geblyssigende 
wseron. — L.  11.  And  Satauas  fa  ....  and  fus  cwsedon. — 
L.  12-13.  Hwset  ys  fys  leoht  ....  fserlice  scyneft. — L. 
14.  Adam. — L.  16.  for  J>sere  myclan  beorhtnysse. — L.  17. 
dryhten. — L.  19.  and  hyt  ys. — L.  20.  fa  ic  cwseS  and  fore- 
witegode. — L.  34.  seo  stefen. 

P.  498,  1.  3.  se  waes  genemned  ;  he  cwseS. — L.  10.  Adames 
Bimu. — L.  '21.  J?e  sceolon  beon  agane  ser  he  gehseled  wur'Se. — 
L.  25.  and  ealle  fa  halgan  f e  f ser  on  fam  cwicsusle  wseron. 
— L.  26.  and  god  wuldrigende. — L.  33.  and  eac  ongean  ]?e. — 
L.  35.  swifte  grynime  and  swyfte  egeslice. 

P.  500, 1.  6.  swa  fu  ser  wsere. — L.  9-10.  fast  he  nafter  .... 
fset  ic  wat  fset. — L.  13.  fsere  helle. — L.  24.  swyfte  angrysen- 
lice. — L.  32.  se^e  Lazarum  of  unc  bam  genam. 

P.  502, 1.  12.  fram  me  atyhS.— L.  19.  ra^e and  (gif).— 

L.  26.  fe  -Sasr  ynne  wseron. — L.  29.  ecan;  ...  fa  gyt. — L.  34. 
wytega. 

P.  504,  1.  1 .  to  eallum  f  am  halgum  f  e  ftser  wseron. — L.  6. 
witegan. — L.  9-10.  heom  fa  Sns  gesprecenum. — L.  10.  Ge 
ealdras. — L.  12.  ecan. — L.  16.  fa  ^a  ic  on  eorSan  wses. — L. 
22.  f  set  wses  ure  heofenlica  dryhten ;  .  .  .  far. — L.  23.  ealle 
(geondlyhte). — L.  27.  gehyrdon. — L.  32.  Ac  we  acsia'S  fe. 

P.  506,  1.  4.  eor3an.— L.  5.  ealle.— L.  13.  eall.— L.  14. 
And  eornostlice  we  ahsiaiS  fe. — L.  20.  and  ure  heofenlica 


536  W.    H.   HULME. 

hlaford  J>a  nolde  J>aera  deofla  gemafteles  mare  habban. — L. 
22.  and  hyne  fseste  geband. — L.  24.  eall  swa  hyre  fram  ure 
heofenlican  hlaforde  gehaten  wses. 

P.  508, 1.  1.  Ac  ]>a  fta  se  wuldres  cyning  ]>set  gehyrde  1m. — 
L.  3.  and  gyt  butu  on  ecum  forwyrde. — L.  6.  swySran. — L. 
14.  Adam  (and  myd). — L.  15.  cyssende. — L.  26.  ]?a3S  sig 
dryhtne  ma3r$. — L.  29.  and  hym  sylf  was  on  heofenas  far- 
ende. — L.  32.  Ac  J>a  hig  inweard  foron. 

P.  510,  ].  20.  sona.— L.  23.  And. 

P.  512,  1.  5.  He  andswarode  and  cwseft. — L.  8.  to  softon. 
iSa  twegen  wytegan. — L.  12-13.  and  j>a  cartan  ]?e  hig 
gewryten  hsefdon  \mm  ealdrum  ageafon. — L.  15.  and  heom 
]>us  to  cwsedon. — L.  30.  j;a3t  hig  myd  J7am  betan  vvoldon  |>set 
hig  wyS  god  agylt  hsefdon. 

B.  The  Language  Differences  between  the  Cambridge 
and  Cotton  MS8. 

In  this  comparison  of  the  MSS.  A  (=  Cambr.)  and  B 
(=  Cotton)  no  account  has  been  taken  of  different  forms  of 
the  same  words  in  both  texts,  and  only  occasionally  of  the 
incorrect  or  superfluous  words  of  MS.  B.  The  aim  has  been 
to  furnish  a  convenient  list  of  the  differences  in  language  and 
style.  Text  A  is  used  as  the  standard  of  comparison. 

P.  472, 1.  4.  B  has  fteuwa  for  }?e  ys.— L.  11.  h^fde  geeadmet 
(A) ;  hyne  ha}fot  geeadmed  (B). — L.  15.  ]?a  is  repeated  after 
J>sene  in  B.  Ms.  B  almost  illegible  here. — L.  17.  B  has  Da 
$u  for  pa  $a  )m ;  also  has  and  to  Alexandre. — L.  20.  B 
omits  and  before  strehton. — L.  25.  B  has  ]?e  "Su  sylf. — L.  27. 
B  has  ]>  sona. — L.  30.  on  dryhtnes  naman  Com  (A) ;  Com 
on  drihtnes  naman  (B).  B  omits  La. — L.  32.  gewytnysse 
(A) ;  to  gewytnisse  (B). — L.  34.  B  omits  ne  before  cufton. 

P.  474,  1.  2.  J>a3r  $a  (A) ;  J>a  Sajr  (B).— L.  4.  het  ]?»t  (A) ; 
het  «a  (B).  B  omits  La.— L.  6.  B  omits  leofa.— L.  7.  B 
omits  he  after  J>e. — L.  9.  to  hym  (A) ;  hym  to  (B).  heafdo 
(A);  hlaford  (B). — L.  11.  narna  wa3s  (A) ;  wa?s  nama  (B). — 


THE   OLD   ENGLISH   GOSPEL   OF   NICODEMUS.  537 

L.  12.  ryhtwysan  (A);  godon  (B).  B  omits  J?us. — L.  19.  Se 
hselend  hyrn  andswarode  and  cwaeft  (A) ;  Se  drihten  hyru 
cwset  (B).— L.  21.  B  omits  yfel.— L.  23.  B  omit?  |?set  «u.— 
L.  27.  truwan  (A) ;  tri-Sam  (B). — L.  32.  j>set  ge  sprecaft  (A) ; 
•Se  ge  sprecaft  (B). 

P.  476,  1.  2.  B  omits  hys.— L.  3:  B  omits  to  before  ge- 
cigde. — L.  10.  A  omits  ne  lease  gewurdene  after  geborene. — 
L.  12.  B  has  superfluous  wset  between  ]?a  and  to. — L.  17.  A 
omits  ]?ses  before  deaiSes. — L.  20.  and  ]>aet  he  (A) ;  and  he 
J>set  (B).  Huru  (A) ;  Hu  nu  (B).— L.  27.  B  omits  J?e  (for- 
J>ani-];e). — L.  29.  weorce  (A);  weorcum  (B). — L.  30.  J>a  wearft 
(A) ;  wearft  J>a  (B). — L.  32.  B  omits  pa  andswaredon  and. 

P.  478, 1.  1.  eft  (A);  sefter  (B).— L.  4.  B  omits  andswarode 
and. — L.  5.  B  omits  andswarode  ....  and. — L.  6.  A  omits 
ge  .  .  .  .  syndon. — L.  8.  B  omits  me ;  also,  hym  andswarode 
and. — L.  13.  B  omits  andswarode  and. — L.  16.  A  omits  he 
before  gehyra$. — L.  17.  B  omits  ha3lend  ....  andswarode 
and. — L.  19.  B  omits  andswarode  and,  and  has  cwset,  to. — L. 
25.  and  eft  hyt  (A) ;  and  hyt  »ft  (B).  fajce  (A) ;  fyrste  (B).— 
L.  26.  J?8Bt  ternpel  fat  (A) ;  J>a3t  tempel  J?e  (B).— L.  28.  ftece 
(A) ;  fyrste  (B).— L.  29.  Ic  gedo  J?set  ge  ealle  (A) ;  Eall  ic  do 
J?8et  ge  (B). — L.  32.  B  omits  J?a  before  diaconas. — L.  34.  A 
omits  ]>set  ic  (he)  sy  deaftes  scyldig  after  gemet. — L.  35.  B 
omits  and  )?a  msessepreostas. 

P.  480,  1.  3.  and  wa3S  hym  to  clypigende  (A) ;  and  clypode 
hym  to  (B).— L.  5.  nu  (A);  hu  (B).— L.  11.  B  has  nime 
ge. — L.  14.  B  omits  ha3fS. — L.  J5.  B  omits  $e  after  )?am. — 
L.  17.  B  omits  J?arn  before  deman. — L.  18.  B  omits  $u. — L. 
28.  geanbidiende  wses  (A);  wses  geandbidigende  (B). — L.  29. 
B  omits  he. — L.  29-31.  B  omits  and  hyne  of  }>sere  rode 
genam  and  on  cla3nre  scytan  befeold  and  hyne  on  hys  nywan 
]?ruh  alede,  on  j^sere  J?e  nan  o^er  man  ser  on  ne  Ia3g.  pa  fta 
ludeas  pset  gehyrdon  J>a3t  losep  haefde  ]>ses  hselendes  lychaman 
abeden. 

P.  482,  1.  3.  WOBS  an  ealdor  (A) ;  an  ealder  wa3s  (B). — L. 
8.  B  omits  gejnvserigende  and. — L.  15.  B  omits  hyne. — L.  17. 


538  W.    H.    HULME. 

A  omits  on  rode  before  ahengon. — L.  21.  B  has  J>aet 
$u. — L.  24.  B  has  ]>a  hy  hyne,  and  omits  ]>am  before  cwear- 
terne. — L.  25.  B  has  J?set  loc  hy,  etc. — L.  30.  B  omits  hig 
after  hu. — L.  32.  B  omits  and  J>a  msessepreostas. — L.  33.  to 
]>aere  clusan  (A);  to  ]?sere  duran  (B). — L.  34.  hig  uninseglodon 
(A) ;  hy  waeron  ....  uninsegelede  (B). 

P.  484,  1.  1.  nsas  (A);  nys  (B).— L.  3.  B  omits  |?e.-— L.  4. 
B  omits  and  ymbe  ]?8et  wundredon. — L.  8.  B  omits  on. — 
L.  13.  B  omits  eow. — L.  14.  B  has  J>onne  he  for  j?one  ]?e. — L. 
15.  B  omits  ac  before  cumaS. — L.  16.  ]?e  he  on  aled  wses  (A); 
hwer  lie  alsed  wses  (B). — L.  18.  hyne  magon  (A);  magon 
hyne  (B).— L.  19.  B  omits  aar.— L.  22.  B  omits  for.— L.  24. 
B  omits  we  before  hyt. — L.  25.  A  omits  ne  moston  before  ne 
myhton;  A  also  omits  gewordene  before  swylce. — L.  28.  B 
has  swa  we  us  drihteii. — L.  30.  A  omits  swa  us  dryhten  lybbe 
before  for  hwig. 

P.  486, 1.  1.  B  omits  se. — L.  3.  geinseglodon  (A);  macodon 
(B). — L.  4.  B  has  Sane  ne  fundon. — L.  8.  B  omits  J?e. — L.  9. 
]?a  cempan  heom  andswaredon  and  cwasdon  (A) ;  Da  cwsedon 
J>a  cempam  (B). — L.  11.  B  omits  on;  also,  ]>aet  se  engel  hyt 
]?am  wyfum  sa3de.  pa  ludeas  ]?a  hig  call  J?ys  gehyrdon  after 
gehyrdon. — L.  15.  ]?a  my  eel  (A) ;  ^set  my  eel  (B). — L.  22.  B 
has  and  hyt  ]?a  gelamp. — L.  26.  B  omits  and  to  J?am  msesse- 
preostum. 

P.  488,  1.  2.  B  has  we  hyrdon.— L.  3.  B  omits  and  ]>a 
msessepreostas. — L.  6.  J?a  J>ry  weras  heom  J?a  andswaredon 
and  saedon  (A) ;  hym  J>a  cwsedon  (B). — L.  9.  J>a  ludeas  (A) ; 
ludeas  J?a  (B). — L.  10.  comon  togsedere  ]?a  (A) ;  );a  gsedere 
comon  (B).  B  omits  gesomnode  waaron. — L.  19.  B  has  on 
uppan. — L.  29.  swa  spsecon  (A) ;  specon  swa  (B). — L.  32.  B 
omits  ge. — L.  33.  A  omits  habbe  J>one  helend  gelseht  after  se 
gast. — L.  34.  and  hym  geeaftmedan  (A) ;  to  gebugan  (B). 

P.  490, 1.  3-4.  us ymbfarendum  (A);  we  habbaS  Stirhfaron 
(B). — L.  6.  B  omits  and  ]?a  maassepreostas. — L.  12.  J>a  swa 
J>eah  (A) ;  swa  J?eh  )>a  (B). — L.  15.  B  has  sy  Su  myd.^L. 
19.  B  has  for  Sam  we.— L.  22.  B  omits  syb.— L.  25.  And  ];a 


THE   OLD   ENGLISH   GOSPEL   OF   NICODEMUS.  539 

(A) ;  Ac  J?a  (B).— L.  31.  B  has  on  uppan.— L.  32.  B  has  hyg 
ealle  ongean.  B  omits  clypigende  and. — L.  33.  B  has  Syb 
sy  myd  ]>e  Joseph  myd,  etc. 

P.  492, 1.  3.  B  omits  La. — L.  10.  B  omits  hym  andswarode 
and. — L.  16.  B  omits  Jwre. — L.  19.  A  omits  Ne  com  ic  na 
Elias.  B  has  J?e  $e  J?u. — L.  20.  B  omits  to  before  hym. — L. 
23.  B  omits  J?e.— L.  24.  B  has  huse  ne.— L.  29.  B  omits  to 
before  Caiphan. — L.  32.  B  omits  he  before  fala. — L.  33.  of 
heora  byrgene  (A) ;  on  heora  byrgene  (B). 

P.  494,  1.  4.  B  omits  we  before  magon. — L.  15.  B  omits 
and  before  Nichodemus. — L.  17.  Hig  wseron  ....  gangende 
(A) ;  Hyg  code  (B).— L.  28.  B  omits  eac.— L.  30.  B  omits 
and  ]?a  m&ssepreostas. 

P.  496,  1.  4.  B  has  J;a  ha  stefen.— L.  6.  Efne  }>a  (A); 
Softlice  $a  (B).  B  omits  Jms  before  cwsedon. — L.  9.  J?ser  w»s 
(A)  ;  Da  wses  (B).— L.  28.  B  omits  cryst. 

P.  498,  1.  7.  B  has  l^set  he  J>ane  ele,  omitting  J;e. — L.  9.  B 
omits  3u  before  mihtest. — L.  13  B  omits  me  after  aBtywde. — 
L.  14.  B  omits  and  before  ic  eom  gesett. — L.  16.  B  has  win 
tearas. — L.  19.  B  has  for  -Sam  we. — L.  20.  sceolon  beon  (A); 
sceolde  beon  (B). — L.  24.  B  omits  call  before  hyrende ;  also, 
J?a  before  heahfsederas. — L.  25.  B  omits  J>a  before  halgan. — 
L.  27.  B  has  j?a  swifte  angrislic. 

P.  500,  1.  1.  B  has  Sam  Satanase. — L.  2.  B  has  sy  swa 
strang. — L.  4.  B  omits  J>a  (J?a  3e  ealle).  On  eorSan  anweald 
(A) ;  anweald  on  eorSan  (B). — L.  5.  B  omits  hig  before 
fseste. — L.  11.  B  has  ame  for  hyne. — L.  18.  B  omits  he  (WEBS 
myd  spere). — L.  19.  B,  ]>get  man  can  mengde. — L.  24.  B 
omits  swySe  before  angrislice. — L.  34.  B  has  in  ne  on. 

P.  502,  1.  5.  swa  wa3s  (A) ;  wa3s  swa  (B). — L.  9.  B  omits 
J?a  after  ealle. — L.  13.  B  has  hlud  swilce. — L.  18.  B  has  Ac 
}>a  $e  me  ra$e  seo  hell  J^set  gehyrde.  B  omits  heo  after 
cvvset. — L.  19.  raiSe  fram  me  (A);  fram  me  rseSe  (B). — L. 
30.  lyfigende  wa3s  (A) ;  wa3S  lyfigeude  (B).  A  omits  )?a  3a  ic 
sa3de  before  andettaft. 


540  W.    H.    HULME. 

P.  504,  1.  12.  seo  hell  ]>a  (A) ;  J>a  seo  hell  (B).— L.  24-25. 
]?8er  J>ser  hig  on  J^am  ....  wseron  (A) ;  J>ser  ftser  hyg  wseron 
on  Sam,  etc.  (B).— L.  34.  O$$e  hwset  (A);  And  hwset  (B).— 
L.  35.  eft  up  swa  (A) ;  eft  swa  up  (B). 

P.  506,  1.  1.  oferdryfenne  (A);  oferwinnanne  (B).— L.  2. 
B  omits  Hwset  ne  eart .  .  .  .  se  3e. — L.  3.  cumen  (A) ;  gefaren 
(B). — L.  8.  B  omits  myhte  and. — L.  9.  B  has  and  eac  gelice. 
— L.  10.  B  omits  hig. — L.  11.  B  omits  la. — L.  17.  B  omits 
J»set  (Su  sig). — L.  21.  B  has  na  mare. — L.  24.  hyre  .  .  .  . 
gehaten  wses  (A);  heo  ....  gehaten  wses  (B). — L.  26.  B 
omits  and  after  ord ;  also,  la  (la  $u  fseder). — L.  27.  B  omits 
la  ($u  J>e  ealdor). — L.  28.  B  omits  la  before  ord  frtima. — L. 
32.  B  omits  ]?e  before  $u. — L.  33.  dydest  wyfterwerdlice  (A)  ; 
wrSerwserdlice  gedydest  (B).  B  has  segfter  (ongean  |?e). 

P.  508,  1.  23.  B  has  hys  wundra.— L.  30.  on  heofenas  (A); 
to  heofonan  (B). — L.  35.  B  has  ge  ge  ]>e ;  also,  omits  and  ge 
nu  gyt  deade  nseron. 

P.  510,  1.  11.  B  omits  $e  before  Enoch.— L.  20.  gesceafta 
(A);  gesceapa  (B). — L.  21.  B  has  fta  georne. — L.  23.  he  wses 
(A);  wses  he  (B). — L.  24.  B  omits  )>e  before  secge. — L.  25.  B 
has  $a  J?isse. — L.  27.  forwyrne  (A) ;  forwirde  (B). 

P.  512,  1.  1.  B  has  J?a  ealle  J>a;  omits  j?a  before  witegan. — 
L.  9.  B  omits  her. — L.  14.  B  omits  and  before  Gamaliele. 
— L.  15.  A  omits  and  on  hand  sealde  after  ageaf. — L.  19.  B 
has  the  correct  form,  heo. — L.  20.  B  has  hwset  for  hwseder. — 
L.  34.  B  has  ]?e  hyg  awriton  after  gewriton ;  also,  omits  hym 
before  seror. 

P.  514,  1.  5.  B  has  gret  wel. — L.  8.  B  has  eac  hyg  nine; 
and  omits  swyfte  before  wregdon.— L.  16.  B  omits  he  fyssr  on). 


The  above  comparison  of  the  two  MSS.  proves  one  thing 
beyond  a  doubt,  namely,  that  B  cannot  be  considered  a  copy 
of  A,  as  I  surmised,  Introd.,  p.  467.  This  is  shown  by  the 
fact  that  A  has  omitted  several  short  clauses  from  the  origi- 
nal which  are  necessary  in  order  to  make  sense,  and  which 


THE  OLD  ENGLISH  GOSPEL  OF  NICODEMUS.  541 

are  to  be  found  in  B.  Among  these  omissions  the  following 
may  be  noted :  P.  478,  1.  34.  J>a3t  ic  (he)  sy  deaftes  scyldig. 
P.  484,  1.  25.  ue  moston ;  1.  30.  Swa  us  dryhten  lybbe.  P. 
488,  1.  33.  habbe  ];one  hselend  gelseht,  after  se  gast.  P.  492, 
1.  19.  Ne  eom  ic  na  Elias.  P.  502,  1.  30.  ]?a  $a  ic  ssede. 
Moreover,  there  are  too  many  differences  between  the  MSS.  in 
word-forms,  language  and  style  to  justify  the  supposition  that 
A  is  a  copy  of  B.  The  more  plausible  supposition  is  that  both 
are  copies  of  an  older  MS.  which  has  been  lost. 

In  the  Introduction  I  have  tried  to  give  sufficiently  clear 
references  to  authorities  quoted.  If,  however,  the  same  au- 
thority is  quoted  more  than  once,  the  reference  is  not  repeated. 

In  the  Notes  I  have  tried  to  be  as  brief  as  possible.  The 
comparison  of  the  Old  English  with  the  Latin  was  under- 
taken for  the  purpose  of  showing  to  what  extent  the  translation 
is  exact;  to  what  extent  it  is  merely  a  paraphrase,  and  in 
addition  to  this  to  determine  more  definitely  than  Wiilker  has 
done  which  of  the  many  Latin  texts  was  the  basis  of  the  Old 
English  translation.  Moreover,  a  careful  study  of  the  methods 
of  translation  employed  in  this  case  will  assist  in  determining 
the  author  of  the  Old  English  work. 

It  remains  for  me  in  closing  to  acknowledge  my  indebted- 
ness and  gratitude  to  those  who  have  been  especially  helpful 
to  me  in  the  preparation  and  publication  of  these  texts. 

My  hearty  thanks  are  due  the  custodians  of  the  Manuscript 
Department  of  the  British  Museum,  and  of  the  Cambridge 
University  Library  for  permission  to  use  the  MSS.  I  am 
especially  grateful  to  Dr.  W.  De  Gray  Birch  of  the  British 
Museum,  and  Francis  Jenkinson,  Esq.,  Librarian  of  the  Cam- 
bridge University  Library,  for  repeated  instances  of  personal 
help  and  kindness  during  my  sojourn  in  London  and  Cam- 
bridge. I  am  indebted  above  all  to  the  kindness  of  Professor 
James  W.  Bright,  the  efficient  editor  of  these  Publications,  for 
valuable  suggestions  and  advice  during  the  course  of  printing. 

WM.  H.  HULME. 


542  W.    H.    HULME. 


CORRECTIONS. 

In  accordance  with  the  note  on  p.  473  read  cwcet  for  cwceft 
p.  473  11.  8,  17,  27,  30;  p.  475  11.  2,  5,  22.— P.  473,  1.  1, 
read  ]>inum  for  pinum.—P.  487,  1.  1,  erroneously  repeated 
from  p.  485. — P.  487,  1.  26,  read  preceptor  for  perceptor. — 
P.  493, 1.  21,  read  %e  for  de. — P.  495, 1.  20,  read  cnceaw-um. — 
P.  496,  1.  14,  read  geblyssigende  for  gebbyssigende. — P.  502, 
1.  34,  read  unryhtwysnysse. 

W.  H.  H. 


XIV.— EIN    BEITRAG    ZUR    KRITIK    DER   ROMAN- 
TISCHEN  SAGAS.1 

Ich  habe  fiir  den  inhalt  der  .folgenden  seiten  eine 
allgemeine  iiberschrift  gewahlt,  obwohl  es  sich  nur  um  die 
beschreibung  einer  einzelnen  hs.,  Cod.  Holm,  membr.  6,  4°, 
handelt,  weil  nicht  nur  fiir  mehrere  romantische  sagas  neues 
textkritisches  material  beigebracht  werden  soil,  sondern  auch 
die  grundsatze  mehrfach  beriihrt  werden,  die  fiir  die  herstel- 
lung  kritischer  ausgaben  dieser  prosaversionen  romantischer 
stoffe  massgebend  sein  miissen. 

Fiir  den  gesammtinhalt  dieser  hs.  diirfte  ich  mich  vielleicht 
mit  einer  verweisung  auf  meine  Riddarasogur,  Strassburg 
1872,  p.  i  f.,  sowie  auf  Cederschiold's  Fornsogur  SuSrlanda, 
Lund  1884,  p.  LVinf.  begniigen :  indessen  sind  doch  so  man- 
cherlei  bibliographische  notizen  nachzutragen,  dass  ich  lieber, 
ehe  ich  auf  genauere  besprechung  einzelner  stiicke  eingehe, 
denselben  hier  nochmals  kurz  vorfiihren  will.  Dies  Ms. 
enthalt  folgende  stiicke:  (1)  Amfous  ok  Amilius  saga,  fol. 
1-3*25.  Die  erste  seite  ist  fast  ganz  abgerieben  und  unlesbar. 
Von  mir  edirt  Germania,  xix,  p.  184-189:  vgl.  dazu  meine 
ausgabe  der  Elis  saga,  Heilbr.  1881,  p.  ix.  (2)  Severs  saga, 
fol.  3a26-6b  und  7a-23b;  dazwischen  fehlt  ein  blatt;  nach 
dieser  hs.,  fiir  die  liicke  erganzt  durch  cod.  Holm.  Membr.  7 
fol.,  ist  die  saga  gedruckt  in  Cederschidld's  Fornsogur  Suftr- 
landa,  p.  209-267.  (3)  f  vents  saga  Artuskappa,  fol.  23b 
(enthaltend  die  rothe  iiberschrift)— 26b,  27a-35b,  36a-39a; 
dazwischen  fehlt  je  ein  blatt.  Unter  zugrundelegung  dieser 
hs.,  fiir  die  erste  liicke  erganzt  durch  cod.  A.  M.  chart. 
588  A,  4°,  habe  ich  die  Ivents  saga  edirt  in  meinen  Riddara- 
sdgur,  p.  73-136  ;  besserungen  dazu  auf  grund  einer  nach- 

1  Professor  D.  K.  Dodge,  of  the  University  of  Illinois,  has  been  kind 
enough  to  prepare  for  the  compositor's  use  a  type-written  copy  of  this 
article,  and  to  assist  in  the  reading  of  the  proofs. — J.  W.  B. 

543 


544  E.    KOLBING. 

collation  der.  hs.  lieferte  Cederschiold,  Germania,  xx,  p. 
306  if.  Eine  neue  ausgabe  dieser  saga  fur  die  Altnordische 
Saga-Bibliothek.  Hinter  dem  schluss  der  Ivents  saga  folgt 
ein  satz  in  der  schrift  des  17.  jahrhunderts,  den  Ceder- 
schiold, FSS,  p.  LVIII  f.  abgedruckt  hat.  An  einigen  stellen 
lese  ich  anders,  p.  LIX,  10  v.  u.  Mijrmanz  fur  Mirmanz:  9 
v.  u.  heisst  es ;  &  eru  ]>ar  sog2  (=  ur)  allz  ir :  ich  lese  alls 
12,  und  in  der  that  hat  der  schreiber  vorher  12  sagas  nament- 
lich  genannt;  8  v.  u.  Liota]  1.  hliota.  (4)  Parcevals  saga, 
fol.  39b-45b,  46a-56a;  dazwischen  ist  ein  blatt  verloren;  von 
mir  edirt  Ridd.,  p.  1-53;  vgl.  dazu  Cederschiold,  Germ.,  a.  a.  o. 
(5)  Valuers  ]>dttr,  fol.  56b-61a,  gedruckt  Ridd.,  p.  55-71  ;  s. 
auch  Cederschiold,  Germania,  a.  a.  o.  (6)  Mirmans  saga,  fol. 
62a-69b :  ungefahr  die  erste  halfte  des  textes,  wahrend  der  rest 
verloren  ist;  herausgeg.  in  Ridd.,  p.  137-16515;  vgl.  Ced., 
Germ.  a.  a.  o.  (7)  Flovents  saga,  fol.  70a-85b :  ein  genauer 
abdruck  findet  sich  in  Cederschiold's  FSS,  p.  168-208.  (8) 
Elis  saga  ok  Bdsamundu,  fol.  86a-93b,  94a-104b,  105a-106b; 
dazwischen  wird  je  eiu  blatt  vermisst,  auch  am  schluss 
fehlen  einige  zeilen  ('  vantar  1  bl.'  steht  unten  auf  der  seite) ; 
vgl.  auch  Elis  saga  s.  ix.  Alle  sachlichen  varianten  dieses 
textes  sind  in  meiner  ausgabe  der  Elis  saga  aufgefiihrt. 
(9)  Konrdfts  saga  keisarasonar,  fol.  107a-119b14.  Aus  dieser 
hs.  hat  Cederschiold  FSS,  p.  CLVIII  ff.  eine  grossere  anzahl 
varianten,  nach  gesichtspunkten  geordnet,  angefiihrt.  Aus- 
serdera  ist  aber  die  ganze  saga  u.  d.  t. :  Konrd^s  saga  keisara- 
sonar, er  for  til  Ormalands,  von  G.  porSarson,  Kop.  1859 
nach  cod.  A.  M.  179  fol.,  einer  ziemlich  genauen  abschrift  des 
Stockholmer  codex,  edirt  worden,  mit  beifiigung  eiuiger 
weniger  varianten  aus  anderen  hss.,  jedoch  ohne  den  anspruch 
strengerer  kritischer  verwerthung  des  apparates  (vgl.  Ceder- 
schiold's FSS,  p.  CLVI).  (10)  fjalar-J6ns  saga,  fol.  119b15- 
126b;  der  schluss  fehlt.  Eiue  abschrift  davon,  enthalten  in 
Cod.  A.  M.  18 1L,  ist  von  G.  porSarson  in  seiner  ausgabe 
dieser  saga,  Reykjavik  1857,  mit  verwerthet  worden.  (11) 
Mottuls  saga,  fol.  127a-128a2°,  abgedruckt  in  Version*  nordi- 


ZUK   KRITIK   DER   ROMANTJSCHEN   SAGAS.  545 

ques  du  fabliau  franqais  Le  Mantel  mautaitte.  Textes  et  notes 
par  G.  Cederschiold  et  F.  A.  Wulf,  Lund  1877.  Der  anfang 
fehlt  und  ein  blatt  ist  aus  der  hs.  entfernt  und  jetzt  in  A.  M. 
598,  4°,  rait  eingeheftet,  entsprechend  p.  135-1721  der  eben 
erwahnten  ausgabe.  (12)  Der  anfang  eines  liebesliedes,  fol. 
128*21-27,  abgedruckt  bei  Stephens,  Herr  Ivan  lejon-riddaren, 
Stockholm  1849,  p.  cxxxvn  f.  (13)  Clarus  saga  keisara- 
sonar,  f.  128b-132b,  133a-136b,  137;  zwischenf.  132  und  133 
fehlen  zwei  blatter,  und  ein  weiteres  nach  fol.  136 ;  von  fol. 
137  sind  nur  zwei  kleine  stiicke  erhalten,  deren  riickseite  fast 
unleserlich  ist.  Cederschiold  hat  in  seiner  ausgabe  der  Clarus 
saga,  Lund  1879,  den  anfang,  p.  1-225  nach  dieser  hs.  edirt 
und  von  da  ab  einen  theil  der  sachlichen  varianten  im  appa- 
rate  vermerkt. 

In  seinem  oben  angefiihrten  aufsatze,  Germania,  xx,  p. 
306,  bemerkt  Cederschiold  beziiglich  seiner  collation,  es  seien 
gewiss  viele  dinge  seiner  aufmerksamkeit  entgangen  und 
vollstandigkeit  konne  nicht  erreicht  sein.  So  glaubte  ich 
seinen  beruuhungen  um  meineu  text  keine  bessere  anerkeu- 
nung  spenden  zu  konnen,  als  wenn  ich  jetzt,  da  durch  die 
liberalitat  der  Stockholmer  bibliotheksverwaltung  mir  die 
moglichkeit  geboten  war,  die  ganze  hs.  in  ruhe  hier  zu 
beniitzen,  meinen  abdruck  von  Ivents  saga,  Parcevals  saga, 
Valvers  ^dttr  und  Mirmans  saga  in  den  Riddarasogur  noch- 
mals  mit  dem  Ms.  vergliche.  Die  resultate  lege  ich  zuuachst 
hier  vor. 

1.  Ivents  saga. 

p.  77,  1  heslisk6g~\  1.  heslisskog.  p.  78.  5  soyftumst]  sogftuzst 
Ms.  p.  80,  15  ]>egar~\  om.  Ms.  26  smaragftu"]  1.  smaragfto. 
p.  86,  3  sina]  1.  smd.  p.  92,  21  g6kli\  1.  gflck  }>d.  p.  95,  6 
\&  dcemir  nu\  1.  ])d  dcemir  nu :  nach  dcemir  findet  sich  ein 
nachtragszeichen,  dem  aber  am  rande  kein  solcher  entspricht ; 
jedenfalls  sollte  \u  erganzt  werden.  13  sjdl/rar]  sjdlfar  Ms. 
13  nau$synjar~\  1.  nauftsyn.  18  Dass  die  hs.  fyrirldtit  fur 
fyrirldtir  bietet,  ist  in  naeiner  note  p.  95  f.  ausdriicklich 
7 


546  E.    KOLBING. 

bemerkt:  vgl.  Cederschiold,  p.  310.  19  ftn]  Jriff  ]>ffi(!)  Ms. 
p.  102,  8  hin]  hft  hin  (!)  Ms.  13  rdSgjafa]  rceftgiafa  (!) 
Ms.  p.  104,  2  haffti]  1.  hef&i.  p.  105,  3  J?ei]  1.  \ar.  p. 
107,  12  likams]  die  hs.  bietet  z  fur  s,  das  sowol  als  r  wie  als 
s  gelesen  werden  kann  ;  doch  wird  likamr  vorzuziehen  sein. 
17  hcddi\  1.  heidi.  p.  115,  2  vdrr]  corr.  aus  vorrar  Ms.  p. 
116,  17  siria]  1.  smd.  p.  117,  8  ]?ef]  1.  \ar.  p.  120,  6  ]>cer] 
Jw^(!)  Ms.  p.  121,  24  En\  1.  JESnn.  p.  124,  14  tceki]  1.  fa&. 
p.  126,  1  >]  ora.  Ms.  p.  129,  8  litif]  1.  litil.  p.  131,  23 
scetast]  1.  scettast.  29  millum]  1.  $  millum.  p.  134,  34  crSrwm] 
1.  cHSrw. 

2.  Parcevals  saga. 

p.  6,  10  s6mc/u]  sdwcZe(!)  Ms.  14  }>mara]  )?essa  Ms.  p.  7,  8 
&2/&>(]  bydz  Ms.  p.  11,  20  vdpnhesti]  1.  vdpnhest.  p.  12  ?/j^r- 
miklum]  1.  me^  miklum  (vgl.  Cederschiold,  p.  312,  7,  10  v. 
u.  ff.).  p.  13,  21  t6K]  I.  fasti  (uns.).  p.  14,  8  kunnasta]  1. 
kunnusta.  p.  18,  11  m^f]  1.  mdli.  p.  19,  25  ^anw]  1.  at 
hann.  28  C7nnasto]  1.  Unnusta  (geschr.  unndsta;  ebenso  p.  20, 
20,  p.  24,  24,  p.  33,  4,  8,  p.  43,  21,  33,  p.  48,  21,  p.  50,  10, 
p.  53,  1).  p.  20,  7  sem\  1.  er.  p.  26,  37  hvern]  /mer(!)  Ms. 
p.  28,  7  d]  1.  ok  d.  14  oTc]  1.  ok  eigi.  p.  29,  11  aclade]  1. 
ciclade.1  36  a//q  all  MS.  p.  32,  27  Hai\  sicher  nicht  so, 
aber  ich  kann  das  wort  nicht  entzifferu.  p.  33,  12  Hef~\  1. 
Haf.  17  LOG]  1.  Loth?  p.  34,  9  vi«]  1.  urn.  p.  35,  4 
tisynju]  o  synnu(ty  Ms.  p.  37,  15  unnustu]  1.  unnastu; 
ebenso  38,  18.  27  erf]  1.  svd  at.  p.  41,  21  friSastu']  1. 
friftustu.  p.  43,  15  Am]  Amw  Ms.  35  hinn]  1.  AMI.  p.  44,  10 
Riddarar]  1.  Riddararnir.  p.  48,  22  o/]  1.  o&  af.  p.  49, 
29  dH-S]  byd  Ms.  p.  50,  31  reft  j?d]  rei«  );«  m«  Jwi(!)  Ms. 
J).  53,  l/6^mw]  l.fegin. 


1  Dieser  stoff  wird  auch  Clarus  s.  p.  7,  25  erwahnt  ;  er  1st  mit  siglaton, 
voriiber  A.  Schultz,  Hofisches  leben*  I,  p.  347  zu  vergleichen,  identisch. 
Damit  erledigt  sich  meine  conjectur  [purpur~\  aklcefti,  Archiv,  Bd.  93,  p.  114.* 


ZUR   KRITIK    DER   ROMANTISCHEN   SAGAS.  547 

3.  Valvers  \dttr. 

p.  57,  25  nti]  1.  inn.  p.  58,  19  aptr]  1.  af;  das  darauf 
folgende  wort  ist  unlesbar.  p.  61,  14  hina]  hinu  Ms.  20 
strontium]  1.  strdndinni  (?).  p.  62,  36  6r3]  byd  Ms.  p.  63, 
31  at]  fehlt  am  anfang  von  f.  58b.  p.  65,  9  d]  1.  1 

4.  Mirmans  saga. 

p.  142,  14  J?o<]  1.  Jnrf.  p.  143,  27  ok]  1.  e&.  p.  147,  25 
er]  1.  en.  p.  148,  18  er]  1.  sem.  p.  149,  3  /]  von  spaterer 
hand  am  rande  nachgetragen.  p.  149,  14  einvigum]  ein 
vigium  Ms.  p.  152,  4  var]  1.  var  i.  32  und  note  ok  hann] 
hann  Ms.  p.  153,  2  var]  vdru  Ms.  ?  p.  154,  4  man]  1.  mun. 
p.  157,  8  gjorfti  guft]  nach  einem  zeichen  in  der  hs.  umzu- 
stellen.  p.  159,  2  ek  er]  mit  umstellungszeichen  versehen. 
p.  161, 14  heyri  (!)  matti  Ms.  p.  164,  5  herklceddisf]  herklaftist 
Ms.  6  hdnum]  1.  If.  10  alhugat]  alogat(\)  Ms. 

Im  anschluss  hieran  handle  ich  nun  noch  iiber  einige  andre 
der  in  dieser  hs.  enthaltenen  texte. 

5.  Konrdfts  saga  keisarasonar. 

Ich  sagte  oben,  dass  Cederschiold  von  den  varianten  dieser 
hs.  in  der  einleitung  zu  seiner  ausgabe  nur  eine  auswahl,  und 
zwar  nicht  dem  gange  der  erzahlung  folgend,  mitgetheilt  hat. 
Ich  glaube  darum  diejenigen  welche  in  zukunft  der  Konrd^s 
saga  ein  eingehenderes  studium  zuwenden  werden,  einen  dienst 
zu  leisten,  wenn  ich  die  resultate  meiner  collation  von  poHSar- 
sons  text  mit  Cod.  Holm.  6,  4°,  hier  mittheile  und  demselben 
dadurch  den  werth  einer  zwar  nicht  orthographisch,  aber 
doch  wortlich  genaueu  reproduction  dieser  fassung  verleihe.1 

1  Zur  vervollstandigung  des  handschriftlichen  materials  wiirde  dann  vor 
allem  noch  ein  verzeichniss  derjenigen  varianten  von  Cod.  Holm.  7  fol.  anzu- 
fertigen  sein,  welche  Cederschiold  nicht  mitgetheilt  hat  (vgl.  P.  und  B. 
lltitrage,  xix,  p.  6). 


548  E.    KOLBING. 

p.  3  Ueberschrift  :  H&r  byrjar  upp  sogu  hin  (!)  Jcurteisa  Kon- 
rdfts  keisara  sonar,  capitulum  primum.  10  var]  hinn  add.  E.  21 
ekkerf]  1  .  ekki.  p.  4,  1  heiti]  1  .  heit.  2  er]  om.  (!)  E.  6  hirSinni] 
1.  hir$  sinni.  21  fyessarri]  fyessi.  24  hygginda  vcer'i]  hyggindi 
var.  mdlsnilldar~]  mdlsnilda.  27  ]>yrfti\  \urjjti.  p.  5,  6  hann] 
d  add.  E.  8  var~\  hans  add.  E.  9  hleypti]  sinum  (!)  add.  E. 
stakk]  ok  kastafti  (vgl.  *).  13  fyrottir  eigi  minni]  eigi  minni 
fyrdttir.  14  temja\  fyrir  add.  E.  18  jafningjo]  jofninga.  21 
fiestalla~\  fiesta  alia.  vet]  ]>vi  bdftir.  29  einkum  at  hann  se~]  at 
hann  s£  einkum.  30  smn]  om.  (!)  E.  30  f.  vera  Konr&$i\  Kon- 
rdfti  vera.  31  fylgisamr~\  fylgjusamr.  ]>etta\  ]>at.  p.  6,  2  manna] 
om.  (!)  E.  15  vef]  honum  allvel.  15  f.  Konr.  —  mer]  jd  herra 
faftir,  segir  hann.  17  mbi\  \&r  add.  (!)  E.  26  svikarinri]  svikari. 
p.  7,  3  ]?o]  at  add.  E.  7  Kewarinn]  Konungr.  9  J>«^]  er  add.  E. 
12  skull]  skulu.  14  ^d~\  om.  E.  20^Tewarmw]  Konungr.  22  Aa/(| 
Aq^r  (!).  24  likn\  likna.  26  wpp]  om.  E.  27  Keis.]  Konungr. 
p.  8,  1  svarar]  segir.  3  ]>af]  er  add.  E.  4  mi  &]  ]?i'A;.  5  slikr] 
]>vilikr.  8  spyrr]  se^ir.  1  1  f.  ok  —  \anga£\  ok  kvaz  meir  fyrir 
Konr  d^s  hluta  sjd  ]>d  er  hann  for  ]>anneg.  14  ^r]  om.  E.  16 
landi]  ]>d  add.  E.  1  9  stdlkonungrinn]  stolkonungr.  24  grosnum] 
bldm.  24  f.  ok  guluni]  glunum  (!)  ok  grosnum.  28  hverir"]  hverr. 
p.  9,  5  aM'S]  dlufi.1  10  helgiddma]  helgaddma.  11  /w'rS  s^na] 
s^na  AiriS.  ];essarzr]  ]>essi.  16  s^]  s;'(i.  21  settisf]  setz.  Ms.  28 
s/ditm]  sjd.  29  ^ormri^r]  s^zV  Aann  add.  E.  32  oMar]  okkra.  p. 
10,  1framari\framarr.  16  a^  se^//a]  om  (!)  E.  22  oftriwi]  om.  E. 
29  var~\  om.  E.  30  haf¥>i  hann]  ]>viat  konungr  haffti.  31  f.  verold- 
inni]  veroldu.  p.  11,  6  /y'd]  /*&•(!).  11  Awrfeiss]  a^  add.  E.  21 
]>vi]  a^add.E.  22  mann]  om.  E.  26/atSir]  mwiw  add.  E.  28  hafi] 
hef&i.  29  \af]  ]>d.  32  e«r]  eSa.  p.  1  2,  9  )?ar]  er  add.  E.  1  9  /yn'r 
atframan.  24  f.  a^  —  ra^r]  a^  —  mert?i  (s.  note  2).  25  Ao//J 

/.  mina  yfirlitu]  minn  yfirlit2  28  sin]  sinni  (I}.  29 


1  Dies  ist  der  zweite  beleg  f  iir  67tt$  neben  a/w^  in  unsern  lexicis  :  Fritz- 
ner8  in  s.  1086  kennt  diese  form  nur  aus  Flat.  1,9913. 

*  Von  sicheren  belegen  fur  yfirlitr  als  masc.  kennt  Fritzner,2  in,  p.  993, 
nur  Strengl.  40*  (Die  bei  Vigf  ,  p.  725,  angefiihrten  stellen  lassen  sich 
sammtlich  auch  vom  neutr.  yfirlit  ableiten). 


ZUR   KRITIK    DER    ROMANTISCHEN   SAGAS.  549 

visddmi.  30  ]>at]  om.  E.  p.  13,  1  waftr]  hon  svarar  add.  E. 
5  birtu]  om.  E.  6  skarst]  skcersl1  23  munu\  muni.  p.  14,  5 
Roftbert]  KonrdSr.  9  er]  hvert  add.  E.  11  vceruni]  vcerim.  12 
vera]  Konungr  mcelti :  Svd  mun  reynaz,  segir  hann,  ]>ess  heldr 
tr  ]>u  veizt  gjorr  add.  E.  \Zfarit]  verit.  15  sjdsf]  segir  Kon- 
rdSr  add.  E.  16  kva$]  segir.  24  Jnrinar]  yftvarrar.  31  ]>vi] 
hvi.  p.  15,  1  f.  nokkursta%ar~\  nokkur.  4  sik']  ]>at  add.  E.  9  at] 
om.  E.  12  me>]  ok  add.  E.  14  ok]  ek.  15  virfta  ek]  virftag  (!). 
16  vift]  ok  (1).  p.  16,  3  nu  herra]  herra  nu.  11  eigi]  ekki.  16 
tveim]  tveimr.  17  f.  Ek  heft]  En  ek  haftia.  23  ryfst]  Konrdtir 
svarar  add.  E.  29  lifts  mins]  liftsins.  32  fosrum]  fosrim.  lei- 
tuftum]  leitaftim.  p.  17,  1  ]>essara]  ]>essa.  9  oil  rum  i  hdllinni\ 
rdm  oil  i  hallinni.  15  pdi]  fdi.2  20  hdllina"]  hallina.  21  desgl. 
29  lauf]  om.(!)  E.  p.  18,  2  ndtttira']  ndtturu.  14  ^]  Jfliz.  15 
jwyor]  J?ar.  19  sagt]  Nu  add.  E.  20  ]>eir]  menn.  22  snys^]  snyr. 
23  hollinni]  hallinni.  24  Aw^i]  a£  add.  E.  mitnrfw]  mundi. 
32  mceltt]  NIL  er  vcenna  um  tala,  segir  hon,  er  v6r  megum 
orftum  koma  vift  ]>enna  mann,  efta  add.  E.  p.  19,  3  \ar  fleiri 
menn~\  \eir  menn  fleiri.  12  sagfti]  segir.  14  hafir  ]>vi  ei\  hefir 
]>vi  ekki.  17  hafa~\  Mr  add.  E.  21  ei~\  om.  E.  orftum]  eigi  add.  E. 
25  f.  segir  honuni]  sagfti.  28  komum]  komim.  30  festbrdftir  at 
]>ti]  at  ]>u  fdstbrdftir.  p.  20,  4  setr\  setti.  11  engi]  engin.  19 
hann]  leikit  add.  E.  p.  21,  3  bragftvisi]  bra$visi(ty.  4  man] 
mun.  10  stolbrtifturnar]  stdlsbrufturnar.  11  ]>at]  upp  add.  E. 
15  tvennu]  tveimr.  25  atgjorvismaftr]  atgjorfimaftr.  26  kann\ 
ok  add.  E.  yem]  at  add.  E.  27  o&]  om.  E.  p.  22,  4  sjdlfan] 
sjdlfa.  skat]  sky  Ida.  9  sem]  er.  var&veitir]  gcetir.  12  a£]  om. 
E.  18  C7m]  JVi2  um.  27  swmar]  sviwnar.  32  Ut  str]  s£r  Ut. 
veita~\  ]>ann  add.  E.  p.  23,  1  mcetti]  mdtti.  kjapta]  kjopta. 
4  drdttins]  drdttin  (!).  9  dyrit  d  viftj.^  viftjarnar  d  dyrinu : 
vgl.  2)  10  hnakkann]  ok  add.  E.  11  eyrun]  ok  add.  E.  13 
hofufthlutann]  hdfufthlutinn.  15  borgina~\  hann  berr  ]>d  fram 
hofufthlut  dyrsins  add.  E.  21  hann]  upp  add.  E.  6or3]  bor&it. 

1  Vielleicht  nur  ein  schreibfehler  f  iir  skarsl,  welches  die  worterbiicher  alle 
kennen. 

"/di  =  '  bild '  kennen  die  lexica  nur  in  der  zusammensetzung  mannfdi. 


550  E.    KOLBING. 

26  6/ryniligr}  dfrynligr.  31  sinni}  sinna.  Ofrpniligr}  Ofryn- 
ligr.  p.  24,  1  f.  d  —  ]>rautir}  okkr  )>essa  ]>rauta.  9  rdfts]  om. 
E.  10  meir}  om.  E.  \d  Jiann  dtti]  ]>6at  hann  cetti-,  vgl.  2).  13 
svarar~]  segir.  30  lengi}  lengr.  31  sffian}  sty.  p.  25,  4  f.pezcina} 
peicina.  8  grenjan}  skrenjan:  vgl.  2).  16  d]  o&  add.  E.  17/6r 
J?e#a]  /drit  j?em'.  17  ok}  en.  18  fc6nsws]  lednem.  22  J?cer]  o& 
add.  E.  24  klosrnar}  Mcernarnar  (1).  26  mce&i]  ]>d  add.  E.  28 
m^/]  mdli  (!).  31  /6r]  /^rr.  p.  26,  2  miM]  no^w^.  2  f.  s#  d«r] 
diSr  s£t.  5  Ae^r  me^  ser]  me§  s&r  hefir.  til~\  er  add.  E.  9  sundr 
grundina]  i  sundr  grindina.  29  ma^r]  mdtt  add.(!)  E.  p.  27, 
6  snemma]  om.  E.  15  Rikar&s]  Rikarftar.  21  einhverja]  eina 
hverja.  22  sogu]  sogn.  23  svarar~]  segir.  23  f.  dkunnugum']  okunn- 
igum.  32  ^ripr  sd]  sd  gripr.  33  ySar]  y-Sr  (=  y^ur).  p.  28,  21  f. 
sem  skjdtast  skipin]  skipin  sem  skjotast.  28  ]>vi]  om.  E.  28 
eyKiland'}  eyWond.  28  f.  skal—tyti}  en  li^il  skal  Vm  bi^°"  3a 
skalt]  ok  add.  E.  p.  29,  5  f.  leiftarsteini]  leiftarstein,  danach 
a,  verloscht.  6  f.  hvitasunnudag]  hvitsunnudag.  1  Babil6nemi\ 
Babilonar.  9  steinbogann]  skalt  \u  eptir  Idta  herklcefti  \'in->  hest 
ok  dyr.  J)d  er  \u  kemr  d  mV&jan  steinbogann  add.  E.1  11 
eru]  vdru.  14  hallardyrum]  hallar  durum.  17  f.  hbllind]  hall- 
ina.  22  f.  \u  skalt]  ]>&%  skalt  ]>u.  23  Mr'}  lit.  27  hcetta]  hcett.  31 
H-S?-]  by%z.  32  d}  ]>d  add.  E.  p.  30,  2  sto]  «fna(!).  14  spjdt- 
ina}  spjdtinu.  15  ut  aj}  afut.  25  hallazt]  hallar  (I).  31,  1  Aa?m  — 
/yrr]  /yrr  annat  s6t.  var}  bar.  5  niftr]  nffiri.  10  ok  dyr} 
dyr  ok.  14  d«r]  enn  add.  E.  buizf]  rdaz  (vgl.  1).  18  6ro«] 
i  6rott.  25  ut  a/}  af  ut.  28  hans  ok  skinn}  ok  skinn  hann. 
30  ekki}  nu.  hans}  ekki  add.  E.  p.  32,  1  Hvitasunnudag} 
Hvitsunnudag.  5  geyma}  gey  mi  (f).  8  sd  hann}  hann  sd.  17 
\>at]  allt  add.  E.  19  hcetti}  yfir  \d  add.  (!)  E.  21  ormstrjonur} 
orms  trjona.  23  ]>ar}  ok  add.  E.  25  dgcetum}  dgcetligum.  30 
hbllinni}  haflinni.  31  Acmn]  ongvan  (!).  p.  33,  1  J>Ht»ai]  ]>rut- 
nat.  12  raw'Sa]  rauftu.  13  vdru}  var  (1}.  16  er]  sem.  17 
refina  (vgl.3).  21  hbllinni}  hallinni.  22  i]  om.  E.  22 
hendu.  22  f.  snjdldranum}  sndldinum  (vgl.4).  p.  34, 


1  Der  schreiber  von  A.  M.  179,  resp.  der  herausgeber  1st  hier  mit  dem 
auge  von  dem  ersten  steinbogann  auf  das  zweite  abgeirrt. 


ZUR   KRITIK    DER    ROMANTISCHEN   SAGAS.  551 


1  hleypti]  hlypti(ty.  \  sntrist]  smoriz(l).  2  J?d]  om.  E.  4  snjo] 
snjor.  8  byrstist]  bystist.  nV&r]  om.  E.  16  byrsutst]  bystust. 
17  cetlafti  hann  eigi]  ekki  cetlafti  hann.  18  hrokktusi]  ]>eir  add. 
E.  20  und  22  hdllinni]  hallinni.  24  okyrrleiki]  dkyrrleikr.  25 
skrykkjum]  skykkum  (vgl.3).  30  ]>ar  wiT|  n/&  ]?ar.  p.  35,  13 
sirma]  om.  E.  15  ]>d&an  bjdst  hann]  Hann  bj6st.  17  oil]  hans 
add.  E.  18  ok]  om.  E.  hasttir]  Uttir.  29  Idtii]  segir  hon  add.  E. 
p.  36,  1  gloggskyggn]  gloggskygn.  4  ]>d]  er  add.  E.  5  hann  ]>vi] 
\ar.  10  himnarikis]  himinrikis.  12  ];ann]  Amn.  19  jacinctus] 
jadngtus.  20  veriS^  sjodauftr]  hann  verSi  sjdftauftr.  22  henni. 
Konungsddttir  mcelti]  hann  konungsddttur  •  hon  mcelti  ]>d.  26 
hann]  er  add.  E.  27  upp  i\  uppi  i.  30  ]>essarri~\  ]>essi.  p.  37,  4 
]>(>]  a^  J?^.  10  a^]  om.  E.  11  riddararnir]  riddarar.  18  ]?e#a] 
]>itt.  22  qfburftai  ma^r]  dbw^armaftr.  26  Ao/?r]  Ae^r.  28  #wS 
)?l7i]  ^7i  ^rwS.  p.  38,  7  fowim^t]  £ri  konungr  mcelti  add.  E. 
8  senc?//er3m]  sendifer*$.  leyst]  laust.  21  ^  borginni]  um  borg. 
23  f.  vegligustu\  vegligstu.  25  md^]  md^'.  32  f.  dgcetr  gripr] 
dgcetisgripr.  33  vi$]  me%.  p.  39,  3  en  kall.Konr.]  er  Ronrdftr 
kallaftist.  4  i  burf]  om.  E.  6  yfir~\  fyrir.  9  ^/d^i]  tjdafti.  15 
ri«w]  H«M«<.  27  er  i]  i.  40,  10  taka]  staka  (!).  13  e/a  tit] 
efna(\).  21  yfcom  i]  hann  kom  vi%.  25  ^  om.  E.  32  /er3 
]>eirra]  ]>eirra  fer&.  p.  41,  1  m^^wm]  mikillum.  10  f.  pr6- 
cess^a]  processio.1  11  ^e^sarmn]  keisari.  15  da^a]  o&  add.  E. 
to?]  tofo.  21  gigju]  gga  (!).  21  f.  simphonia]  simphoniam.2 
23  IZinw]  £H  /mm.  23  erw]  vdnt.  29  sMna]  s^inw.  J?a^  fd] 
)?d  ]>at.  31  Ha?'e^]  ^/are.  p.  42,  5  veita~\  vinna.  14  kvennskari] 
kvennaskari.3  16  J^essarri]  J»essi.  19  kappi]  kappa  (!).  28 
Konr.~\  konungr.  add.  E.  p.  432,  i  Mikl.~\  Mikl.  5  fyrir]  sem. 
6  hallardyrum]  hollar  durum.  8  me3]  mi^  (!).  9  svo  ]>essarri] 
\ar  ]>e8si.  10  sogu]  en—jafnan  add.  E.  (vgl.2). 

1  Die  lat.  form  processio  neben  dem  ofters  begegnenden  processia  finde  ich 
in  keinem  worterbuche. 

2  Die  worterbiicher  kennen  nur  sinfon. 

3  kvennaskari  fiihren  weder  Vigf.  noch  Fritzner  unter  den  zusammen- 
setzungen  mit  kvenna  auf. 


552 


E.    KOLBTNG. 


6.  pjalar  Jons  saga. 

G.  porSarson  hat  die  oben  erwahnte  abschrift  der  Stock- 
holrner  hs.  nur  sehr  sporadisch  zur  vergleichung  herangezogen. 
In  der  that  sind  ihre  abweichungen  von  dem  Ms.,  welches 
der  heransgeber  zu  grunde  gelegt  hat,  so  bedeutend,  dass  es 
unthunlich  sei  wiirde,  dieselben  nachtraglich  in  form  von 
varianten  seinera  texte  beizufiigen.  Wer  sich  in  zukunft 
einmal  der  aufgabe  unterzieht,  diese  saga  kritisch  zu  ediren, 
wird  also  vor  alien  unsere  hs.  mit  zu  beriicksichtigen  haben. 
Ich  drucke  hier  nur  ein  kurzes  stuck,  den  anfang  von  cap. 
II  enthaltend,  nach  beiden  fassungen  ab,  um  daran  zu  zeigen, 
wie  weit  dieselben  auseinander  gehen. 


porSarsons  text,  p.  6  f. 

Nu  sitr  Vilhjalmr  kon- 
ungr  i  Rtiduborg  i  Val- 
landi :  var  p>at  i  J>anu  tima 
mikil  borg  ok  fjolmenn. 
Sva  var  hattat,  at  1  austr  ok 
suiSr  fr&  borginni  var  fjall 
eitt  mikit,  hdtt  ok  af  homr- 
urn  urn  gyrt,  sva  eigi  komst 
upp  a  J?afc,  nema  fljtigandi 
fuglar,  ok  engi  maftr  vissi, 
hversu  J»ar  var  umhorfs  uppi 
d ;  en  undir  fjallinu  vdru 
vellir  sl^ttir  ok  mjok  fagrir. 
Konungr  henti  mikit  gaman 
at  kuattleikum.  pat  er  sagt 
einn  bli^an  veiSrdag,  at  kon- 
ungr  bo'Sar  ut  slna  riddara 
d  d^r  nefnda  vollu  til  burt- 
rei^ar.  Konungr  sj&lfr  f6r 
ok  me'S,  ok  var  settr  undir 


Cod.  Holm.  f.  120*  ff. 

Sitr  nti  Vilhjdlmr  kon- 
ungr  eptir  i  Vallandi  i 
Rtiduborg;  hon  var  i  J?ann 
tima  mikil  borg  ok  fjol- 
menn. Svd  var  hattat,  at  i 
austr  en(?)  suftr  fra  borg  var 
fjall  ha~tt,  sv^  mikit,  vitt  ok 
langt,  at  J;at  var  storr  mein- 
tregi,  at  engum  atflutningum 
ndiSi  nema  um  langa  vegu. 
Fjallit  var  allt  Itikt  me^ 
homrum  ok  bjorgum,  sva 
at  ekki  komst  upp  a  nema 
fljtigandi  fuglar.  par  var 
eigi  hjortr  ne"  hreinkolla  ok 
ekki  ferfoett  kvikendi.  Engi 
maSr  haf^i  J?ar  ok  upp  £ 
komit,  ok  engi  vissi,  hversu 
J?ar  var  hattat  uppi  a.  En 
fram  ok  ofan  undan  fjalliuu 


ZUR   KRITIK    DER    ROMANTISCHEN   SAGAS. 


553 


harm  stoll.  Ok  er  harm 
haf$i  nokkura  stund  setit, 
t6k  hann  at  horfa  upp  i 
fjallit,  ok  hafSi  j>ar  aldri 
augu  af.  R&ftgjafir  konungs, 
Aniru6n  ok  Abin6n  broeftr, 
spyrja  konung,  hvi  hann  s6 
svd  starsynn  i  fjallit,  at  hann 
gaeti  eigi  leika  fyrir  |?vl. 
Konungr  ma3lti :  Ek  se  ny- 
breytni  nokkura  £  fjallinu, 
lika  sem  j6reyk  af  raft 
mannafjolfta :  munda  ek  a3tla 
umbrot  nokkur,  en  J?at  er  ]>  vi 
olikligt,  at  ek  veit  J>ar  engri 
skepnu  vist  vera." 


varu  vellir  sl&tir  ok  vrSir, 
fagrar  grundir  me$  friftum 
bekkjum.  Konungr  henti 
mikit  gaman  af  knattleikum 
ok  burSrerSum.  pat  er  sagt, 
at  eimi  g6$an  veftrdag  bodar 
tit  af  borginni  riddurnm  sin- 
urn  til  burtrerSar  d  }>&  hina 
slettu  vollu,  er  fyrir  varu 
nefndir.  Konungr  sjdlfr  f6r 
tit  af  borg  ok  er  settr  undir 
hann  st611.  Ok  er  hann  hefir 
nokkura  stund  setit,  hefir 
hann  hdttabrigfti  nokkut  urn 
daginn  d  ser  fra  j^vi  er  hann 
d  vanda  til.  Hann  horfir 
upp  d  fjallit  ok  hefr  aldri 
auga  af.  Konungr  dtti  rdft- 
gjafa  tva :  het  annarr  Amon, 
en  annarr  Abm6n;  )?eir  vdru 
broe'Sr  ok  hof^u  verit  meiS 
konungi  langan  tima.  Am6n 
gengr  at  konungi  ok  maelti : 
Herra,  hvat  veldr,  at  );6r 
erut  svd  starsynir  d  fjallit, 
at  ]?er  gdit  eigi  leika  fyrir? 
Konungr  svarar :  Ek  se  ny- 
breytni  nokkura  upp  d  fjallit 
J>vi  lika  sem  ];d  er  j6reyk 
leggr  upp,  J?d  er  fjol^i  nianns 
ri^r.  Munda  ek  setla,  at  um- 
brot  nokkur  mundi  vera  d 
fjallinu  ]?au  er  me^S  miklu 
kappi  vaeri  at  gengit.  Er 
)7etta  af  )?vi  olikligt,  at  ek 
veit  J>ar  engra  kreatyra  vist 
vera. 


554  E.    KOLBING. 

7.  Das  liebeslied. 
I  v.  5  segi~\  1.  segi  of. 

8.   Clarus  saga  keisarasonar. 

Cederschiold  hat  seiner  ausgabe  dieser  saga  Cod.  A.  M.  657  B 
zu  grunde  gelegt,  daneben  aber  auch  die  hss.  der  zweiten  klasse 
verglichen  und  aus  dem  Stockholmer  codex  "eas  lectiones, 
quae  lectionibus  codicis  A  praeferendae  visae  sum,  in  con- 
textum"  aufgenommen,  "eas  autem,  quae  etiamsi  non  sine 
controversia  meliores  dici  possint,  tamen,  quae  cognoscantur, 
digna  videantur,  in  annotationibus  sub  contextum"  angefiihrt. 
Wenn  Cederschiold  in  dieser  weise  nach  eigenem  ermessen 
eine  auswahl  unter  den  varianten  unserer  hs.  getroffen  hat,  so 
mache  ich  ihm  daraus  keinesweges  einen  vorwurf;  denn 
wenn  ich  vielmehr  der  ansicht  bin,  dass  in  einer  kritischen 
ausgabe  a  lie  sachlichen  varianten  unabhangiger  hss.  verzeich- 
net  werden  sollten,  so  handelt  es  sich  um  eine  principielle 
differenz;  dass  auch  Cederschiold  mit  seinem  verfahren  durch- 
aus  nicht  allein  steht,  lehrt  z.  b.  eine  anzeige  seiner  ausgabe 
durch  O.  Brenner  (LiteraturbL,  n,  1881,  sp.  233  ff.),  wo  es 
heisst,  der  herausgeber  biete  "einen  kritischen  commentar 
unter  dem  texte,  der  sich  natiirlich  auf  das  wesentliche 
beschrankt :  die  einzig  richtige  methode,  wo  es  sich  um  eine 
grossere  zahl  jiingerer  hss.  handelt."  Ich  fur  mein  theil 
glaube  freilich,  dass  feinere  untersuchungen  iiber  syntax  und 
wortschatz  der  Clarus  saga — und  zu  solchen  ladet  ihr  viel- 
fach  recht  origineller  stil  unzweifelhaft  ein — erst  dann  mog- 
lich  sein  werden,  wenn  der  variantenapparat  vollstandig 
vorliegt.  Zur  erreichung  dieses  zieles  liefere  ich  hier  einen 
beitrag,  indem  ich  all  die  sachlichen  varianten  unserer  hs., 
welche  bei  Cederschiold  vermisst  werden,  nachtrage.1 

1  Das  kleine  schriftchen :  Sagan  of  Klarusi  keisarasyni.  Utgefandi :  Bjarni 
Bjarnarson.  Reykjavik  1884,  stellt  nur  eine  gekiirzte  und  modernisirte 
fassung  unserer  saga  dar,  die  fiir  die  kritik  des  alten  textes  vollig  werthlos 
1st :  das  ergiebt  sich  gleich  aus  cap.  I,  welches  ich  als  probe  ausschreibe. 


ZUR   KRITIK    DER   BOMASTISCHEN   SAGAS.  555 

p.  2,  37,  sjdlfum  kongi]  kongi  sjdlfum.  38  Hon]  0111.  B.  44 
\j6nustusveina\  ]>j6nustumenn.  46  \dm  svolum]  svoium  \dm. 
47  eru]  orn.  B.  48  w$]  meS.  48  f.  hersk. — dl.~\  dhlaupum  ok 
herskap.  59  taf]  mdl.  60  borSs]  borfa.  64  C7arws — Perws]  om. 
B.  64  spyrr]  meistari  add.  B.  65  s£]  em.  65  f.  Keis.  s.]  J£n 
Clarus.  68  J>essari]  J;mi.  69  ma??]  mun.  p.  3,  4  segir]  svarar. 
6  a£]  er.  7  J?£r]  i/$r.  11  dyran]  g6%an.  12  slrw  fcufc/i  o&]  sinum. 
13  tafe'2]  a£  fc^'a.  }>ann]  J>d.  /6?-  o&]  /ara  sem.  14/ara]  ora.  B.  15 
burt]  i  burt.  17  kyndugskap']  klokskap.  19  aldri\fyrr  add.  B. 
20  fyrr~]  om.  B.  22  a/mwnw]  munu  of.  23  /iann]  mwnw  add.  B. 
munu]  om.  B.  24  ndi  at  sjd]  sjdi.  25  Fdm]  Fd  (!).  26  h&San  lift- 
num]  sffiarr.  keis.  s.]  om.  B.  27  ok  segir]  segjandi.vifttaf]  viftrtal. 
29  Ijdi  honum  sinn~]  fdi  honum.  31  af\  ok.  37  kongrJ\  keisarinn. 
41  upp]  om.  B.  42/er«]/cr(!).  43  mannfdlk]  fdlk.  47  ^on^s] 
keisara.  48  sinn]  }>enna.  50  s£n]  om.  B.  53  note  23)  Alex.~\ 
konungr  add.  B.  54  o& — lita]  ser.  55  ]>eim]  honum.  56  J^ewra] 
\essara.  59  vezY]  a^  add.  B.  60  dyrftl. — hafa]  dyrligr  ma$r 
hefir  hann.  61  kongs]  keisara.  63  meS  J^oM]  me^r  ]>akk.1  68 
ve^semd]  soswd  69  Her  er]  Er  her.  p.  4,  1  dyrum]  dyrligum. 
3  dkaft.']  om.  B.  4f.  /is< — sunar~\  ]>essa  manns.  5  af — romr~]  xkjott 
af  rdmr  mikill.  1  mani]  muni.  8  \6tt — verold]  i  veroldinni.  8  er] 
om.  B.  9  kongs]  keisara.  13  /mm]  om.  B.  18  ganga  miSr]  o/an. 
19  dag]  ok  add.  B.  20  allri~\  om.  B.  21  ollu]  om.  B.  22  f.  kongs 
sonar]  manns.  24  ]?a?m  kvitt]  kvitt  ]>ann.  26  md]  megi.  27  e$r 
om.  B.  29  oss]  m^r.  32  nu — stund]  i  sta$.  33  w3]  mSr.fyrr 
lettandifyrr.  34  «mni/cHS]  om.  B.  36  heftrlega~\  om.  B. 
37  ^on^s]  keisara.  38  Jungfrti]  Fru.2  40  heiftrlegri]  heiftarlegri. 

Fyrir  Saxlandi  rje^i  einu  sinni  keisari  nokkur,  og  er  nafn  hans  eigi 
skrd-'S  i  sogu  >essari.  Hann  hjelt  helgri  tru  innan  endimarka  sinna  rikja. 
Hann  var  bae^Si  voldugur  og  vitur.  Drottning  hans  var  af  gofugustu  aettum. 
Hun  fae^i  honum  fagurt  sveinbarn,  er  var  vatni  ausinn  og  nefndur  Klarus. 
Hann  61st  upp  heima,  og  unnu  honum  allir  hugastum.  Honum  til  uppfrse'S- 
ingar  var  settur  laerimeistari  sa,  er  Pyrus  hjet.  Hann  kunni  menntir  og 
i>rottir  langt  fram  yfir  alia  aiSra  menn  i  landinu.  Klarus  nam  skj6tt  allar 
Ij>r6ttir  Pyrusar,  og  setti  keisarinn  honum  hina  vitrustu  menn  til  J?j6nustu. 

1  Ich  finde  diese  unumgelautete  form  nirgends  aufgefiihrt. 

f  So  wird  Tecla,  die  friiher  (p.  239  f.)  als  rikborin  mcer  bezeichnet  worden 
war,  in  dieser  hs.  stets  genannt:  vgl.  Fritzner,  i,  p.  494. 


556  E.    KOLBING. 

42  legit]  verit.  44  tok  henni  harftl.']  tekr  meyjunni.  45  er]  sem. 
47  frammi]  om.  B.  52  nazrri  ]>vi]  ]>annveg.  53  ]>ikkiz  fulfgjdrt] 
\6ttiz  gjort.  54  }>dm~]  ok.  gefr~\  ]>eim  add.  B.  55  ok']  om.  B.  56 
i]  d.  59  fyessi  kongs]  keisara.  61  sun  Tib.  keis.~]  keisara  sonar. 
64  bjartar  ok~\  om.  B.  65  rawm]  mt.   69  engan  m.  m.]  ei^' 
mun.  70  vcewia]  ma?m  add.  B.     p.  5,  1  f.  \&r — se~]  vet  mun 
vera,  enda  hefir  \er  mikit  um  fundiz.  2  manum]  munu.  6  i 
sinum  landt.~]i  landtjoldum  sinum.  13  me$  ydkk]  meftr  \>akk.  14 
far]  her.  16  sjdlfr — sannandi\  kongrinn  sjd/fr.  17  at — hann\ 
]>ikkjaz  eigi  ongva  \egit  hafa.  1 8  allra]  om.  B.  mektugra]  mektug- 
ar.  19  manna']  om.  B.  22  wieSr]  me'S.  23  xii\  om.  B.  25  i  dag] 
om.  B.  26  honum  likar]  hann  mil.  29  2/i5r]  nu  um  add.  B.  29  f. 
heiftrtega~\  heiftarlega.  31  ^^i]  likar.  35  eingi]  eingin.  ut]  om.  B. 
38  epfo'r]  om  B.  kongs]  keisara.  sonar]  gengr  fru  T.  n.  aft. 
add.  B.  40  gengr — turn']  om.  B.  42  sinni  ferft  dftr]  fyrr  enn.  42, 

43  Klari  kongs]  keisara.  44  hwversku']  om.  B.  45  ok  heilsar] 
om.  B.  hcevJ]  En  add.  B.  47  silt — kju.~]  hver  hon  er.  48  kongs 
sunar~\  hans.  49  Serene]  Serena.  52  f.  y%r — vera~\  }>er  vilit.  53 
kongs~]  keisara.  54  meyjj]  hennar  B.  55  segir~\  svarar.  56jung- 
fru]  om.  B.  56  oss]  mer.  57  f.  \at — landi]  Arabialands  gull. 

60  }>at]  om.  B.  61  einskis']  eingis.  66  wra]  om.  B.  68  herra] 
manni.  69  ]>iggit]  skulut  ]>iggja.  70  hon]  honum  add.  B.  71 
A;ew.  s.]  om.  B.  72  s^a/-a]  ok  add.  B.  nw]  om.  B.  turn] 
til  Serenam  konungs  ddttur  add.  B.  p.  6,  1  kongs  a7.]  henni. 
keis.  s.  Ji.~]  hann  heffti.  11  Klarus]  om.  B.  13  ok]  om.  B. 
jungfru~]  fru.  13  ^ei'Sawdi]  ok  leiddi.  16  A67/  sewi]  hall  er.  17 
om.  B.  19  gjorfum]  om.  B.  22  ^M/^]  ok  add.  B.  23 
meS.  25  dyruslum]  bestum.  29  /ers&a]  /e^a.  30  AM^M^;] 
vera  add.  B.  31  vera~]  om.  B.  33  eigi  ats.~\  om.  B.  35  f.  langpall- 
inn]  langbekk.  36  far  leenam~\  leena.  38  arman]  om.  B.  40  f. 
eins  hverjum]  om.  B.  42  heiftrlega]  heffiarliga.  43  f.  dr6—~and- 
liti]  om.  B.  45  berr~\  kemr.  45  f.  stendr  jungfrj]  riss  hon.  47 
6-iwa  bu^s']  hans.  48  m/o^]  om.  B.  Eru]  nu  add.  B.  50  b&fti 
samt]  om.  B.  50  f.  Clare — ridd.~\  menn  keisara  sonar.  52  sitja~\ 
eru.  56  dyrSligsta']  dyrligsta.  59  AarS/a]  ^e?/si.  60  6o^s]  om. 
B.  63  sagftiz  ok]  kvez.  64  fyrr  leita']  leita  heldr.  65  sann~] 


ZUR   KEITIK    DER   ROMANTISCHEX   SAGAS.  557 

om.  B.  66  f.  ok  rdiS]  om.  B.  67  f.  segiz  —  vilja]  segir  ok  at  Jiann 
vildi.  p.  7,  2  orSiiw]  her  um  add.  B.  2  hennar~\  om.  B.  4  sina 
urn  /.]  um  Iffina  sina.  5  J>eim  —  gl&i]  \eiri  gltfti  ok  fagnafii. 
6  me$  hondum']  om.  B.  7  wS/a/i]  vffirtali.  9  rw]  om.  B.  9 
a^a]  om.  B.  10  i  ]>essari~\  i  }>essi.  14  blaut  softit]  om.  B.  15 
manni]  monnum.  15  swn]  om.  B.  16  eiti\  om.  B.  16  f.  o&  — 
segjandt]  om.  B.  19  f.  ok  —  lut]  om.  B.  ZQjungfru,  segir  hann~\ 
min  fru,  segir  Clarus.  22  kongs]  keisara.  24  myrkbrj]  einn 
myrkvan.  29  svd~\  om.  B.  34  bringuna  ok~\  om.  B.  37  kcemi  m. 
blv&u]  komi  m6ti  g6%u.  38  siglanda  dftr']  d%r  siglandi.  39  md] 
mdtti.  kallaz]  heita.  40  f.  skirl.  —  }>viat]  om.  B.  43  we$  svd  /.] 
$.  45  oA;  —  dro^]  }>wa£  dsynju  drott  \<i.  46  dsynju]  om.  B.  48 
^r]  om.  B.  fait**]  6era  add.  B.  49  bera]  om.  B.  58  Sitr]  En. 
59  TIW]  sitr.  60  Aq/a  gengit~\  gengit  hafa.  65  s&omw]  skamm.1 
70-p.  8,  2  Jh/r^  —  o^]  om.  B.  6  sew  vdn  var]  oA;  \eir.  8  (7/arws] 
Aa?m.  i*m]  ok  add.  B.  9/yr«q  ^1  9  hlj6Ki\  fyrst  add.  B.  (Ced.'s 
note5setzt  das  wort  an  falsche  stelle).  11  er]  sem.  13  segfti 
frd~]  frd  segfti.  18  fe$r  sinurn]  om.  B.  19  ?iw]  om.  B.  24 
verd]  om.  B.  25  viljct]  vildu.  26  f.  ftfetrfttt]  svivirftingar. 
28  ^/orSar]  gjorfta.  30  vi/i]  vi7.  33  s^an]  ]>vilikan.  lengr] 
om.  B.  35  J>an]  ];eir.  38  klerkdomi]  klerkddm.  39  ei^t]  oe. 
48  emn]  om.  B.  49  /tvdr^]  tveggja.  53  ntmwar]  J^essarar 
54  f.  fremd  ok  hei$r\  heiftr  ok  fremd.  62  skomm]  skamm.  66 
\ettd\  om.  B.  68  kongs]  konungsins.  p.  9,  6  sem]  er.  8  J>e^a 
te^r  hann}  Icetr  hann  \etta.  11  Uifogrurn]fdgrum  lit.  p.  13, 
2  n^]  om.  B.  6  /oer  jungfrunni]  fcerir  frunni.  7  eptir  spyrj.~] 
om.  B.  9  bi^r\  baft,  fyrri]  fyrst.  13  sofinn  aptr]  aptr  sofinn. 
14  stendr~\  reis.  17  kdmu]  koma.  19  drenginn  —  Hggr~\  dreng  sem 
her  liggr  i  scenginni.  21  vef\  om.  B.  34  verd]  om.  B.  38  slika.n~\ 
fyvilikan.  39  var~\  er.  44  var]  er.  47  note  24  annars  tjalds  B.] 
B.2  50  einn]  sinn.  54-56  at—fengit]  sem  aldri 


1  Man  beachte  skamm  fur  skomm,  das  Vigf.,  p.  536,  nur  aus  Skald  H.  7,  63 
belegt,  Fritzner  garnicht  angefiihrt  hat. 

2  So  B  ganz  deutlich,  ebenso  wiejunyfrudom,  p.  14,  note  19.    Aber  selbst 
als  etwaige  conjectur  war  die  anderung  nicht  geboten,  da  auch  sonst  missa 
aliquid  begegnet  :  vgl.  Vigf.  s.  v.  misscr,  IT. 


558  E.    KOLBING. 

sd  hon  slild  fyrri,  ok  nu  tyikkir  henni  hit  fyrra  eigi.  62  enn] 

om.  B.  63  umgongu]  Tede  add.  B.  63  Tecle]  om.  B.  66  veroldu] 

veroldunni.  muni]  se.     p.  14,  1  slika]  ]>vilika.  4  hdfuftit]  hdfuft. 

6  man]  mun.  1  1  til  —  meyjum]  mt%  sinum  meyjum  til  landtjalds- 

ins.  12  inngongu]  til  add.  B.  12  sem  fyrr]  ok.  nu]  om.  B. 

16  hon]  hann(l).  20  sagfti]  kva%.  21  landtj.  ok  sigla]  tjaldit. 

23  hit]  at  hit  er.  23  f.  enn  enn]  om.  B.  27  bffir  ok]  om.  B.  29 

herrann  hefir  enn]  hann  hefir.  30  vel]  om.  B.  31  orfta  lengftar] 

or&leng%ar.1  32  TTonas]  Keisara.  35  sfoe^wm]  slcegjum.  36  enn 

AeY]  Tier  enn.  37  ok]  at.  36  #/e$z]  fe&r  at  gleftjaz.  40  var  o&] 

en.  hann]  sd.  41  E!sW;ar3]  konungs  son.  42  o&]  om.  B.  44 

o^]   sem.  44   landtjaldit]  tjaldit.  48   millem]  millum.  kongs] 

keisara.  51  f.  m  —  of]  om.  B.  54  £  m6ti]  i  mdt.  54  ^OTI^S]  keisara. 

55  fte/Si]  Ae>-.  63  enn]  om.  B.  64  &on#s]  keinara.  65  note  19 

jungfrudo  (ms)  B]  jungfruddm  B.  68  atburfta  e%r  ceventyra] 

ceventyra  eftr  atburfta.  69  eyri  e%r]  om.  B.    p.  15,  5  vyrfti]  yr¥>i. 

13  fengit]  om.  B.  19  f.  sez  —  enn]  gjorir  ser.  24  ok  mcelti  svd] 

om.  B.  27  f.  ok  —  ]>essi]  gersemum.  30  mann]  om.  B.  33  f.  ugg- 

anda]  unganda  (!).  34  komi  —  hefnd]  mikil  hefmd  (!)  komi  yftr 

at.  35  sffiarstu]  siftustu.  37  fara]  ganga.  40  brott]  om.  B.  41 

lengr]  om.  B.  44  langt]  om.  B.  46  jungfru]frti.  49  ok  gjorSiz] 

om.  B.  50  berr]  bar.  52  J>w  stdra]  om.  B.  53  dyrum  ]>ess] 

dyrum  ]>essa.  55  e^r-]  eSa.  55  Aver^]  o^  add.  B.  56  J^eto]  sama 

add.  B.  56  kongs]  keisara.  56  er]  sem.  58  se^iV  7iawi]  om.  B.  61 

y%r]  om.  B.  62  eigi]  ekki.  Qlvenda  ollum]  vanda(\).  66  hand] 

hond.  67  dllu  samt]  um.  67  f.  undir  hondinni]  om.  B.  69  6^rr] 

berz.  70  of  einni  k]  om.  B.  71  sama]  om.  B.  72  Heit]  Heitit. 

p.  16,  1  i  ]>essari]  i  }>essi.  2  vera]  verfta.  5  landtjaldit]  sta$.  8  er] 

sem.  9  dyrunum]  durunum.  11  sem]  om.  B.  11  f.  um  ]>resk]  om. 

B.  13  i  hug  henni]  i  huginn.  1  5  kongs]  keisara.  16  hennar  hond] 

hond  hennar.  17  mcelir  vi%  hana]  mcelti  til  hennar.  17  sem]  er. 

18  f.  hann  —  dhyggju]  sagt.  En  mcerin  svarar.  19/i/rir]  undir. 

23  nu  ekki]  eigi.  25  f.  man  —  trun]  om.  B.  28  leggr]  tekr.  32  nu] 


fehlt  bei  Fritzner,  n,  p.  902,  dagegen  vgl.  Fritzner,  J  p.  490. 
Der  verfasser  hat  unrecht  gethan,  das  wort  zu  gunsten  vor  or'Saleng'S  zu 
beseitigen  :  er  hiitte  beide  formen  anfiihren  so  lien. 


ZUR  KRITIK   DER   ROMANTISCHEN   SAGAS.  559 

om.  B.  34  man]  mun.  35  Jn£]  )>e>.  39  Ojor]  nu  add.  B.  40  kongs] 
keisara.  41  Hon  segir]  om.  B.  42  fyrir  mitt  lif]  segir  hon. 
43  f.  ef—er]  om.  B.  45  enn]  om.  B.  46  til  T.]  svd.  46  linazta] 
besta.  49  sem]  er.  49  man]  mun.  50  eptir  ndtt.]  om.  B.  53 
sama~]  om.  B.  57  fyrir  hv.  sk.]  hvi.  60  i  sffiaztu]  om.  B.  65 
enn  )>at]  ]>at  enn.  66  ]>okk]  ]>akk.  frdin\  konungs  ddttir.  68 
kongs]  keisara.  69  \iggr\  ]>d.  70-72  hvern — telja]  frtiSmceli  ok 
fagrgali  verftr  sein(!)  til  tolu.  p.  17,  1  inn  leiddr]  om.  B.  2  f. 
en — reikna~]  gengr  svd  fa  at.  4  ok]  om.  B.  7  var]  verftr.  jafn- 
]>ungr]jafn.  9  o&— stirftr]  om.  B.  10  ]>6]  \d.  11  w#a]  /eifo.  12 
allt  til  morgins]  til  dags.  13  s6l  skinn,  gengr]  upp  kemr  s6l, 
gengr  frit.  14  man]  er.  15  landtjaldit]  tjaldit.  18  mikil  glefti 
ok]  om.  B.  20  kongs]  keisara.  23  J>mu]  ]>vi.  25  7ii2]  om.  B. 
27  kongr]  konungrinn.  28  ^cez^w]  gozi.  28  5^^  o^]  om. 
B.  29-31  var — borinn]  om.  B.  31  kongs]  keisara.  34  sern] 
er.  34  A/owm]  hj6n  hin.  35  o^ — nu]  en  herrinn  allr  liggr.  36 
siftarstu"]  sffiustu.  37  inn]  om.  B.  42  augurn]  i  add.  B.  42  ok 
henni]  om.  B.  45  brottu  eru]  i  brottu  eru  nu.  51  at  buaz  urn] 
um  at  btiaz.  56  upp  i  lopt]  %  lopt  upp.  57  af]  or.  58  ok — munn- 
inn]  om.  B.  p.  20,  18  at]  om.  B.  ]>egar]  sffian.  19  me$ 
grdti]  om.  B.  21  ok  reifti]  segir.  21  ok— Hit]  om.  B.  23/2/rn] 
fyrr.  24  sce^i  wiirm]  om.  B.  26  ]>d  borgnara]  ]>ar  betra.  28 
mer]  om.  B.  26  md]  mun  ek.  27  eSr]  ^a.  28  m^r]  om.  B.  28 
til  lifs]  om  B.  at]  ek  skal  add.  B.  29  f.  minn  soeti]  om.  B. 
32  segir  hann]  om.  B.  33  sama]  om.  B.  35  f.  langa — meinliga] 
om.  B.  40  at]  ok.  45  undir]  i.  ok  at  portinu]  om.  B.  46 
henni]  om.  B.  47  sem]  er.  48  mcelti  hann]  ok  mcelti.  50  vildir] 
vildi.  51  atyingis]  om.  B.  52  A^a£]  hingat.  54  sem]  er. 
p.  23,  2  f./orrdiSs  s^rt]  om.  B.  10  f.  milli — mekt]  i  milli.  11 
undir]  fyrir.  12  md]  skal.  14  Aenncw]  augu  ok  add.  B.  19  er 
]>cer  koma]  sem  hon  kemr.  22  inni]  om.  B.  25  mdfo*]  i  mot.  26 
AceversK]  soemiliga.  30  /Serena]  om.  B.  31  Aq/i  }>er]  hafir.  31 
fdheyrt]  mikit.  32  o&  vandr.]  om.  B.  36  e$r]  e-Sa.  38  handina 
hondina.  40  6r6a^]  dnd^Sa^.  43  f.  staftfestu  ok]  om.  B. 

E.  KOLBING. 


APPENDIX  I. 


PROCEEDINGS   OF   THE   FIFTEENTH   ANNUAL 
MEETING  OF  THE  MODERN  LANGUAGE 
ASSOCIATION  OF  AMERICA,  HELD  AT 
THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  PENNSYL- 
VANIA, PHILADELPHIA,  PA., 
DECEMBER  27,  28, 
29,  1897. 


THE  MODERN  LANGUAGE  ASSOCIATION 
OF  AMERICA. 


At  the  invitation  of  Dr.  Charles  C.  Harrison,  Provost  of 
the  University  of  Pennsylvania,  the  MODERN  LANGUAGE 
ASSOCIATION  OF  AMERICA  held  its  fifteenth  annual  meeting 
at  the  University  of  Pennsylvania,  Philadelphia,  Pa.,  Decem- 
ber 27,  28,  29,  1897. 

All  the  sessions  of  the  meeting  were  held  in  Houston  Hall. 

FIRST    SESSION,  DECEMBER   27. 

The  first  session  of  the  meeting  was  begun  at  2  o'clock  p.  m. 
The  President  of  the  Association,  Professor  Albert  S.  Cook, 
of  Yale  University,  presided. 

The  Secretary  of  the  Association,  James  W.  Bright,  sub- 
mitted the  following  report,  which  was  approved  : 

The  Secretary  reports  the  publication  and  distribution,  during  the  closing 
year,  of  the  twelfth  volume  of  the  Publications  of  the  Association.  The 
fourth  instalment  of  this  volume  contains  the  Proceedings  of  the  last  annual 
meeting  of  the  Association,  which  was  held  at  the  Western  Reserve  Uni- 
versity, Cleveland,  Ohio,  and  the  Proceedings  of  the  last  annual  meeting  of 
the  Central  Division  of  the  Association,  which  was  held  at  Washington 
University,  Saint  Louis,  Mo. 

-As  a  joint-editor  of  the  Whitney  Memorial  Volume,  the  Secretary  also 
reports  the  completion  of  that  volume,  which  has  been  distributed  as  a 
joint-publication  of  the  American  Oriental  Society,  the  American  Philo- 
logical Association,  and  the  Modern  Language  Association  of  America. 

The  Treasurer  of  the  Association,  Herbert  E.  Greene,  sub- 
mitted the  following  report : 

iii 


IV  MODERN   LANGUAGE    ASSOCIATION. 


BEOEIPTS. 

Balance  on  hand  December  26,  1896, $   881  48 

Annual  Dues  from  Members,  and  receipts 
from  Subscribing  Libraries : 

For  the  year  1893,     .        .        .    $       3  00 
"      "       "    1894,     ...  15  00 

"      "       "    1895,    ...  45  00 

"  "  "  1896,  ...  109  80 
"  "  "  1897,  .  .  .  3,282  55 
"  "  "  1898,  .  71  25 

$1,526  60 

Sale  of  Publications, 155  84 

For  partial  cost  of  publication  of  articles 
and  for  reprints  of  the  same : 

F.  J.  Mather,     .... 

F.  H.  Wilkens, 

K.  E.  Neil  Dodge,     . 

F.  A.  Blackburn,       . 

Homer  Smith,  .         .        .        . 

B.  D.  Woodward,      . 

$    233  90 

Advertisements, 200  00 

Interest,       ...  11  28 

$    211  28 

Total  receipts  for  the  year, $3,009  10 

EXPENDITURES. 

Publication  of  Vol.  XII,  1,  and  Keprints,  $   503  42 

«            u      a        u     2,    "           "  319  97 

"            «      "        «     3,    "           "  376  85 

"            «      "        «     4,    "           "  212  03 

$1,412  27 
The  Whitney  Memorial  Volume : 

Share  (f )  of  cost  of  printing,     .  100  31 

Binding, 51  77 

Shipping,           ....  55  60 

$    207  68 

Supplies  for  the  Secretary :  stationery,  pos- 
tage, mailing  Publications,  etc.,     .        .  98  31 
Supplies  for  the  Treasurer :  stationery,  pos- 
tage, etc., 22  55 

The  Secretary, 200  00 

Job  printing, 31  10 

Expenses  of  the  Committee  of  Twelve,       .  74  35 


PEOCEEDING8   FOR    1897. 


The  Central  Division,         .        .        .        .  42  00 

Services  of  R.  R.  Agent,  two  days,     .        .  17  00 

$   485  31 


Total  expenditures  for  the  year, $2,105  26 

Balance  on  hand  December  24,  1897,       .        .  903  84 


$3,009  10 
Balance  on  hand  December  24,  1897,    .    .    $903  84  ... 

The  President  appointed  the  following  Committees : 

(1)  To  audit  the  Treasurer's  accounts :   Professor  C.  H. 

Grandgent  and  Dr.  C.  G.  Child. 

(2)  To  nominate  officers :   Professors  Felix  E.  Schelling, 

G.  A.  Hench,  Bliss  Perry,  J.  M.  Garnett,  and  L.  E. 
Menger. 

(3)  To  recommend  place  for  the  next  Annual  Meeting : 

Professors  J.  B.  Henneman,  W.  T.  Hewett,  H.  A. 
Todd,  B.  L.  Bowen,  F.  N.  Scott, 

The  reading  of  papers  was  then  begun. 

1.  "The   new   requirements   in    entrance   English."     By 
Professor  T.  W.  Hunt,  of  Princeton  University.     [Printed 
in  Mod.  Lang.  Notes,  May,  1898.] 

This  paper  was  discussed  by  Professors  F.  N.  Scott,  Albert 
S.  Cook,  and  E.  H.  Magill. 

2.  "  The  close  of  Goethe's  Tasso,  as  a  literary  problem." 
By  Professor  Henry  Wood,  of  the  Johns  Hopkins  Univer- 
sity.   [An  abstract  of  this  paper  is  given  in  Mod.  Lang.  Notes, 
March,  1898,  p.  65.] 

Professor  Calvin  Thomas  offered  comments  on  the  subject 
of  the  paper. 

3.  "The   phraseology  of  Moliere's   Preeieuses  ridicules." 
By  Dr.  Therese  F.  Colin,  of  Bryn  Mawr,  Pa.     [Read  by 
title.] 


VI  MODEKN   LANGUAGE   ASSOCIATION. 

In  this  paper  an  attempt  is  made  to  determine  whether  Moli£re  was  open 
to  the  charge,  brought  against  him  by  his  contemporaries,  of  having  grossly 
satirized  the  Pre"cieuses  and  having  attributed  to  the  characters  of  his  play 
absurd  conceits  coined  out  of  his  own  imagination. 

From  a  study  of  the  writers  of  the  time,  the  author  has  endeavoured  to 
note  the  sources  of  those  expressions  peculiar  to  the  "  socie'te'  des  Precieux  " 
and  the  extravagant  abuse  into  which  its  imitators  fell.  Almost  identical 
parallel  passages,  antedating  the  first  appearance  of  the  Precieuses  ridicules 
(1659)  and  quoted  from  those  writers,  are  offered  in  the  playwright's  justi- 
fication. According  to  Charles  Sorel :  "  Jamais  il  n'  y  eut  une  telle  licence, 
comme  celle  qu'  on  a  prise  depuis  quelques  anndes ;  les  mots  ne  se  font  plus 
insensiblement,  mais  tout  expr£s  et  par  profession — ."  Many  of  these  new 
terms  and  their  definitions  have  each  in  turn  been  carefully  gathered  and 
are  here  examined.  They  are  metaphors,  periphrases,  conceits,  proverbial 
sayings,  woven  into  substitutes  for  the  simplest  language,  some  of  which 
even  now  survive.  Italy,  Spain,  and  England  had  earlier  experienced  the 
same  malady  known  under  the  name  of  cultismo,  secentismo,  marinismo, 
gongorismo,  and  euphuism.  Even  so  late  as  1672  Madame  de  Se'vigne',  in  a 
letter  to  her  daughter,  styles  the  phraseology  of  aristocratic  circles  "si 
sophistique*  qu'  on  aurait  eu  besoin  d'  un  truchement." 

4.  "  The  question  of  free  and  checked  vowels  in  Gallic 
Popular  Latin. "  By  Professor  John  E.  Matzke,  of  Leland 
Stanford  Junior  University.  [Printed  in  Publications,  xiu, 

if.] 

This  paper  was  presented  in  abstract  and  with  comments  by 
Professor  L.  E.  Menger ;  further  discussion  was  contributed 
by  Dr.  E.  C.  Armstrong  and  Professor  H.  A.  Todd. 

Dr.  Menger  said : 

I  shall  devote  the  few  moments  at  my  command  to  giving  the  members 
of  the  Association  a  general  idea  of  my  original  paper  on  this  subject,  then 
a  summary  of  Dr.  Matzke's  results,  and,  finally,  shall  venture  to  offer  a  few 
new  ideas  of  my  own. 

First,  then,  as  to  the  solution  proposed  by  myself  several  years  ago :  When 
I  read  in  my  Old  French  grammars  that  the  vowel  a,  for  example,  was 
free  in  talem  >  tel,  manum  >  main,  jacet>_9^,  although  the  result  for  the 
French  derivative  of  a  was  different  in  each  case,  and  when  I  noted 
that  e  was  designated  as  free  in  pedem  >  pied  but  checked  in  melius  >  mielz, 
where  the  result  (ie)  was  the  same  in  each  case,  I  asked  myself:  "Do  the 
terms  '  free'  and  ' checked '  mean  anything  ? "  It  seemed  that  they  indicated 
different  phenomena  at  different  times ;  I  thought  they  should  denote  the 
same  thing  at  all  times.  Consequently  I  studied  the  history  of  Popular 
Latin  vowels  as  a  whole,  classed  their  Old  French  representatives  under 


PROCEEDINGS   FOR   1897.  vii 

three  comprehensive  headings,  called  the  first  division,  in  which  the  vowels 
developed  (as  talem  >  id),  "  free ; "  the  second,  in  which  the  vowels 
remained  (as  partem  >part),  "checked;"  the  third  I  considered  as  com- 
prising secondary  developments  (that  is,  the  development  of  diphthongs 
and  not  that  of  the  original  vowels  as  such),  for  example,  factum  >fait;  the 
last  division  was  therefore  to  be  eliminated  from  the  discussion.  "  Free," 
with  me,  meant  development,  "  checked,"  non-development,  and  the  terms 
had  these  meanings,  in  my  scheme,  in  all  cases.  I  should,  perhaps,  have 
laid  more  stress  on  the  principle  of  the  divisions  rather  than  on  the  names 
to  be  applied  to  them.  The  matter  of  terminology  is,  for  the  most  part,  a 
pedagogical  question,  and  I  would  be  fully  satisfied  should  all  scholars  agree 
to  call  the  first  division  A,  the  second  B  and  the  third  C. 

My  new  meaning  applied  to  the  time-honored  terms  constituted,  evidently, 
a  radical  change ;  in  order  to  escape  extended  criticism  I  should  not  have 
insisted  on  such  an  application  of  the  terms,  but  should  have  offered  my 
paper  as  a  suggestion  for  a  method  of  clear  presentation  of  the  history  of 
the  vowels.  Meyer-Luebke,  in  his  review1  of  my  article,  said  that  my 
exposition  of  the  vowel  changes  appeared  more  readily  comprehensible  and 
more  convenient  for  the  student  than  the  traditional  method  but  that  my 
definition  of  the  terms  under  discussion  did  not  respond  as  accurately  as  the 
usually  accepted  one  to  the  known  principles  of  speech  development.'  Dr. 
Todd,  too,  saw  in  the  paper  the  possibilities  for  a  lucid  presentation  of  the 
history  of  the  vowels  and  communicated  to  me  certain  alterations  calculated 
to  enhance  the  value  of  the  monograph  as  illustrating  this  presentation. 
Behrens,  in  his  review 3  of  my  work,  resented  my  attack  on  the  traditional 
acceptation  of  the  terms  while  recognising  that  a  decisive  definition  is  yet 
to  be  formulated.  This  definition,  he  said  in  effect,  must  proceed  from 
a  satisfactory  understanding  of  the  deviations  in  Old  French  vowel  de- 
velopments and  must  be  based  on  the  laws  of  syllabification  of  the  Popular 
Latin. 

Dr.  Matzke  apparently  derived  the  key-note  of  his  investigations  from 
Behrens'  expression  just  quoted ;  on  p.  5  of  Dr.  Matzke's  paper  we  read : 
"  It  becomes  evident,  therefore,  that  the  true  definition  of  free  and  checked 
vowels  is  dependent  upon  Popular  Latin  syllabification."  His  method  of 
procedure  is  then  as  follows:  We  start  from  the  law  for  the  development 
of  Popular  Latin  vowels  as  formulated  by  ten  Brink ;  that  is,  vowels  in 
open  syllables  were  lengthened,  vowels  in  closed  syllables  were  shortened. 
Vowels  in  the  former  were  free,  in  the  latter  checked.  Consequently  the 
essential  point  to  establish  is  the  open  or  close  nature  of  the  syllable  at  the 
time  of  the  operation  of  ten  Brink's  law.  This  time  has  been  fixed  by 
Pogatscher  and  Mackel  as  in  the  sixth  century,  and  the  terms  "free"  and 
"  checked  "  can  be  applied  only  to  the  vowels  as  they  existed  at  this  period ; 

1  Literalurblatt,  xvn,  col.  340.  *Cf.  Romania,  xxvi,  597. 

3  Zeiischrift,  xxi,  304. 


Vlll  MODERN   LANGUAGE   ASSOCIATION. 

so  we  have  to  determine  the  phonetic  processes  which  had  been  accom- 
plished by  the  sixth  century.  These  processes  are  then  cited,  the  different 
vowel  developments  studied  in  detail,  the  whole  leading,  finally,  to  the 
formation  of  categories  of  free  and  checked  vowels. 

With  regard  to  this  plan,  I  may  be  allowed,  in  the  first  place,  one  general 
remark :  The  starting  point  of  the  argument — the  status  of  the  vowels  in 
Popular  Latin  times — is  undoubtedly  correct  and  to  be  preferred  to  my  plan 
(of  beginning  with  the  French  end  of  the  line  of  development)  in  so  far  as 
the  theory  of  free  and  checked  vowels  is  concerned ;  but,  just  as  my  work  was 
criticized  because  of  my  attempt  to  apply  the  terms  to  developments  covering 
several  hundred  years,  which  developments  I  had  reduced  within  the  limits 
of  a  simple  scheme,  so  I  fear  Dr.  Matzke  may  be  criticized  for  specifying  one 
of  these  centuries  in  which  developments  were  taking  place  and  for  basing  his 
definition  on  forms  of  Popular  Latin  of  the  sixth  century  alone.  These  forms 
often  changed  to  a  marked  degree  in  subsequent  years  before  becoming  what 
we  now  designate  as  the  etyma  of  their  French  derivatives.  The  only 
vowels  that  were  changing  in  the  sixth  century  were  e  and  p.  The  rest  did 
not  begin  to  develop  until  the  eighth  century ;  are  we  not  then  interested 
in  knowing  the  consonantal  conditions  (as  determining  free  or  checked 
position)  of  the  latter  date  rather  than,  or  else  in  addition  to  those  of  the 
sixth  century  ?  To  illustrate  my  meaning  let  us  look  at  proparoxytones, 
for  example.  According  to  Dr.  Matzke  the  tonic  vowel  is  free  here  when 
the  penult  begins  with  a  single  consonant  (p.  39).  Undoubtedly  e  was  free 
in  netidum  in  the  sixth  century ;  however,  after  this  date  and  before  the 
alteration  of  e  >  ei,  the  atonic  penult  fell,  leaving  netdum,  from  which  net 
(with  the  characteristic  of  checked  e)  developed.  Of  what  use  is  it,  even 
theoretically,  to  know  that  e  of  netidum  was  free  ?  Net  does  not  derive  from 
the  sixth  century  form  but  from  a  later  one.  To  posit  a  Popular  Latin 
word  of  the  sixth  century  which  preceded  an  eighth  or  a  ninth  century 
form  that  was  really  the  background  of  a  given  French  derivative  is 
only  one  step  removed  from  proposing  Classic  Latin  forms  as  etyma. 

If,  as  Dr.  Matzke  remarks,  "the  later  fate  of  vowels  may  and  often  does 
depend  upon  causes  quite  foreign  to  their  original  surroundings  "  (p.  5), 
it  would  seem  that  the  knowledge  to  be  desired  is  that  of  the  causes  that 
do  determine  their  fate.  Similarly,  if  "the  consonants  which  follow  the 
vowel  must  invariably  determine  the  free  or  checked  nature  of  the  vowel " 
(p.  9)  the  limitation  of  consonantal  influence  to  the  sixth  century  will 
exclude  the  participation  of  palatal  consonants  which,  for  the  most  part, 
did  not  begin  to  develop  until  the  seventh  or  eighth  century;  yet  the 
alteration  and  influence  of  palatal  consonants  constitute  one  of  the  chief 
characteristics  of  the  Komance  languages  and  are  no  where  so  marked  as 
in  French.  When  we  consider  that  the  palatals  had  not  developed  in  the 
sixth  century  and  that  a,  e  and  g  had  probably  not  even  begun  to  change 
their  values  at  that  date,  does  it  not  seem  too  easy  to  say  that  so  many 
vowels  were  free  at  that  time ;  and,  allowing  that  conditions  changed  after 


PROCEEDINGS   FOR    1897.  ix 

this  period,  is  it  not  somewhat  useless  to  say :  "  It  was  thus  and  so  in  the 
sixth  century,  anyway,"  merely  to  uphold  the  precarious  frame-work  of  a 
definition  we  are  trying  to  construct  ? 

Have  we  any  justification  for  limiting  the  action  of  ten  Brink's  law  to 
the  sixth  century  and  thus  basing  our  definition  of  free  and  checked  vowels 
on  the  forms  of  words  as  they  existed  at  that  time  alone  ?  Dr.  Matzke  says 
(p.  10) :  "  If  a  combination  of  consonants  closing  a  syllable  in  early  Popular 
Latin"  (that  is,  previous  to  the  sixth  century)  "had  become  simplified,  so 
that  a  single  consonant  now  occupied  the  place  formerly  filled  by  two  con- 
sonants, or  vice  versa,  the  nature  of  the  syllable  would  be  changed." — 
Does  not  this  statement  apply  equally  well  to  the  alteration  of  the  nature 
of  syllables  in  the  seventh,  eighth  or  ninth  centuries,  and  does  not  ten 
Brink's  law  refer  rather  to  a  general  tendency  in  Romance  for  vowels  in 
open  syllables  to  become  lengthened  and  in  closed  syllables  to  become 
shortened  ?  Although  the  law  may  have  begun  its  activity  in  the  sixth 
century  we  are  not  assured  that  it  affected  all  the  vowels  at  the  same  time 
and  in  the  same  way.  In  the  case  of  a,  e  and  p,  for  example,  the  length- 
ening did  not  manifest  itself  to  the  extent  of  altering  the  nature  of  the 
vowel  until  the  eighth  century ;  is  it  not  reasonable  to  suppose  that  in  the 
eighth  century  the  lengthening,  or  the  contrary,  took  place  according 
as  the  vowels  stood  in  open  or  closed  syllables  as  determined  by  consonantal 
conditions  of  the  eighth  century  without  regard  to  those  existing  in  the 
sixth? 

My  study  of  the  question  since  writing  my  paper  and  especially  my 
examination  of  Dr.  Matzke's  effort  have  led  me  to  believe  that  it  is  im- 
possible, for  the  present  at  least,  to  formulate  a  general  definition  of  free 
and  checked  vowels  that  will  cover  all  cases  of  vowel  change  in  French. 
The  nearest  approach  possible  seems  to  me  to  be  that  of  Schwan-Behrens ; 
Dr.  Matzke's  categories  will  serve  for  the  sixth  century ;  but  if  we  want  a 
statement  that  will  cover  all  cases  at  all  times  we  shall  have  to  vary  the 
statement  according  to  the  cases  and  the  times.  In  other  words,  the 
question  is  a  chronological  one  and  must  go  hand  in  hand  with  the  first 
indications  of  change  on  the  part  of  each  vowel.  In  controlling  the  dates 
of  such  changes  the  most  important  aid  will  be  found  in  comparing  the 
same  with  alterations  of  the  palatals,1  and  until  the  exact  stages  and  times 
of  the  development  of  the  latter  are  known,  any  marked  advance  in  our 
knowledge  of  Old  French  vowel  history  is  hardly  to  be  hoped  for. 

5.  "  Ben  Jonson,  and  the  origin  of  the  Classical  School." 
By  Professor  Felix  E.  Schelling,  of  the  University  of  Penn- 
sylvania. [Printed  in  Publications,  xm,  221  f.] 

1  This  idea  is  not  mine  but  is  derived  from  an  expression  of  M.  Gaston 
Paris  in  a  letter  he  wrote  to  me  concerning  my  paper. 


X  MODERN   LANGUAGE   ASSOCIATION. 

Discussion  of  the  paper  was  opened  by  Professor  Herbert 
E.  Greene,  and  closed  by  Professor  E.  E.  Hale,  Jr. 

6.  "The  sources  of  Goethe's  printed  text."     By  Professor 
W.  T.  Hewett,  of  Cornell  University.     [To  be  printed  in 
Publications,  XIV.] 

Professors  Calvin  Thomas,  M.  D.  Learned,  A.  Gudeman, 
H.  Collitz,  and  H.  A.  Todd  shared  in  the  discussion. 

7.  "  Parallel  treatment  of  the  vowel  e  in  Old  French  and 
Provencal."     By  Dr.  A.  Jodocius,  of  Philadelphia,  Pa. 

Comment  upon  the  paper  was  offered  by  Professor  H.  A. 
Todd. 

EXTRA   SESSION. 

The  Association  convened  in  an  extra  session,  December  27, 
at  8  p.  m.,  to  hear  the  annual  address  of  the  President  of  the 
Association.  Dr.  Charles  C.  Harrison,  Provost  of  the  Uni- 
versity of  Pennsylvania,  presided,  and  in  a  brief  address 
welcomed  the  Association  to  Philadelphia.  He  then  intro- 
duced Professor  Albert  S.  Cook,  President  of  the  Association, 
who  delivered  an  address  entitled  :  "  The  province  of  English 
Philology."  [Printed  in  Publications,  xin,  185  f.] 

SECOND    SESSION,  DECEMBER   28. 

The  President  called  the  second  regular  session  of  the  con- 
vention to  order  at  10  o'clock,  a.  m. 

8.  "  The  morphology  of  the  Guernsey  dialect."     By  Pro- 
fessor Edwin  S.  Lewis,  of  Princeton  University.     For   an 
abstract  of  this  paper  see  Mod.  Lang.  Notes,  March,  1898, 
p.  69  f. 

This  paper  elicited  comments  by  Professors  A.  Rambeau 
and  James  W.  Bright. 

9.  "  The  poetry  of  Nicholas  Breton."     By  Dr.  Eva  March 
Tappan,  of  the  Worcester  High  School.     [Printed  in  Publi- 
cations, xin,  297  f.] 


PROCEEDINGS   FOR    1897.  xi 

The  President  asked  Professor  Calvin  Thomas  to  preside. 

10.  "Luther's  'Teufel'  and  Goethe's  < Mephistopheles.' " 
By  Professor  Richard  Hochdorfer,  of  Wittenberg  College. 

This  paper  was  discussed  by  Professors  Calvin  Thomas  and 
W.  T.  Hewett. 

11.  "Notes  on  some  Elizabethan  poems."     By  Professor 
J.  B.  Henneman,  of  the  University  of  Tennessee.     For  an 
abstract  of  this  paper  see  Mod.  Lang.  Notes,  March,  1898, 
p.  71. 

Professor  Felix  E.  Schelling  discussed  this  paper. 

12.  "  The  relation  of  the  Drama  to  Literature."     By  Pro- 
fessor Brander  Matthews,  of  Columbia  University.    [Published 
in  The  Forum,  January,  1898.] 

This  paper  was  discussed  by  Professors  E.  E.  Hale,  Jr., 
E.  H.  Magill,  A.  Cohn,  Albert  8.  Cook,  Bliss  Perry,  James 
W.  Bright,  and  Leo  Wiener. 

13.  "  The  influence  of  Lawrence  Sterne  on  German  litera- 
ture."   By  Dr.  T.  S.  Baker,  of  the  Johns  Hopkins  University. 
[Read  by  title.] 

THIBD    SESSION. 

The  third  regular  session  of  the  convention  was  begun  at 
2.30  o'clock,  p.  m. 

Professor  George  Hempl,  Secretary  of  the  Phonetic  Section 
of  the  Association,  submitted  the  following  report : 

REPORT  OF  THE  SECRETARY  OF  THE  PHONETIC  SECTION,  1897. 

At  the  meeting  of  the  Modern  Language  Association  of  America,  held  in 
the  winter  of  1894-5,  I  was  elected  Secretary  of  the  Phonetic  Section.  My 
efforts  to  find  out  what  would  be  expected  of  me  were  hampered  by  the  fact 
that  nothing  definite  as  to  the  matter  has  been  published.  (See  Proceedings 
for  1887,  pp.  ix,  XLV,  and  Modern  Language  Notes,  IV,  484.)  I  was,  how- 
ever, assured  by  my  predecessor,  Professor  Grandgent,  and  other  members 
of  the  Association  that  the  Secretary  of  the  Phonetic  Section  was  expected 
to  follow  out  his  own  conception  of  the  duties  of  his  office.  I  at  first  planned 


xii  MODERN   LANGUAGE   ASSOCIATION. 

an  occasional  phonetic  periodical,  but  was  dissuaded  from  this  idea  by  some 
of  the  officers  of  the  Association — and  wisely  so,  as  I  now  believe.  I  had, 
some  time  before,  begun  the  issue  of  a  set  of  test  questions  intended  to  bring 
in  data  from  which  to  construct  maps  showing  the  outlines  of  the  chief 
dialect  districts  of  this  country,  and  on  the  suggestion  of  Professor  Grand- 
gent  I  finally  decided  to  make  this  investigation  the  basis  of  my  labors  as 
Secretary  of  the  Phonetic  Section. 

The  fees  of  the  members  of  the  Section  for  the  year  1895  amounted  to 
$25 ;  from  my  predecessor  I  received  a  balance  of  $25.  This  money  has  been 
spent  partly  for  stationery  and  record  books,  but  for  the  most  part  has  been 
used  for  postage,  where  it  was  but  a  drop  in  the  bucket.  Not  infrequently 
a  single  report  costs  me  five  cents  in  postage.  For  reasons  to  be  specified 
later,  I  did  not  ask  for  fees  for  the  years  1896  and  1897.  Consequently  this 
brief  statement  covers  the  financial  matter  of  my  office  for  the  three  years 
that  I  have  occupied  it. 

I  have  sent  to  the  members  of  the  Phonetic  Section — 

(1)  Copies  of  an  abstract  of  a  paper  read  by  me  at  the  Classical  Confer- 
ence held  in  Ann  Arbor  in  April,  1895,  on  "Vowel-Shifts  in  Relation  to 
Time  and  Stress"  (Cf.  The  School  Review  for  June,  1895,  p.  375).     The  com- 
plete paper  will  be  sent  as  soon  as  published. 

(2)  Copies  of  an  article  that  appeared  in  The  Chautauquan  for  January, 
1896,  in  which  I  gave  a  sketch  of  my  plan  of  work  and  a  brief  statement 
of  such  results  a*  I  had  then  obtained. 

(3)  A  table  of  Sound  Articulations  prepared  by  Marcus  Hitch  of  Chicago. 

(4)  Advance  sheets  of  the  chapter  on  phonetics  in  my  German  Orthography 
and  Phonology. 

(5)  Reprints  of  a  paper  on  the  pronunciation  of  8  in  "to  grease"  and 
"  greasy,"  which  I  had  published  in  Dialect  Notes,  part  ix. 

(6)  A  paper  on  the  loss  or  retention  of  e  in  the  English  ending  -ed,  re- 
printed from  the  Publications  of  the  Association,  vol.  xn,  No.  3. 

By  the  end  of  the  first  year,  I  saw  that  the  progress  of  the  accumulation 
of  material  for  the  speech  maps  was  such  that  it  would  not  be  easy  or  wise 
to  make  reports  until  I  should  have  in  my  hands  practically  all  the  material 
I  expected  to  collect.  For  this  reason  the  published  material  that  I  could 
put  into  the  hands  of  the  members  was  limited,  and  I  therefore  refrained 
from  asking  for  fees  for  the  second  and  third  years.  Reports  of  the  results 
of  my  investigations  will  be  sent  to  the  members  of  the  Section  as  often  as 
made.  Anything  further  that  I  might  say  as  Secretary  of  the  Phonetic 
Section,  will  be  involved  in  an  account  of  the  progress  of  the  speech  maps, 
and  I  shall,  therefore,  report  briefly  on  that  matter. 

As  in  all  such  matters,  had  I  known  at  the  outset  what  I  learned  in  the 
process  of  the  investigation,  I  should  have  done  it  better.  Perfect  test 
questions  imply  in  the  maker  the  possession  of  a  large  part  of  the  very 
knowledge  that  he  is  seeking  to  obtain  through  them.  Lacking  such 
knowledge,  one  must  make  up  his  list  largely  on  the  basis  of  more  or  less 


PROCEEDINGS  FOR  1897.  xiii 

well  grounded  supposition — on  guess-work,  if  you  wish.  I  gathered  my 
questions  partly  from  books,  partly  from  students  and  others,  partly  from 
my  own  observation.  Before  printing  the  list,  I  subjected  it  to  various  pre- 
liminary trials  with  my  students,  and  then  weeded  out  some  questions  and 
added  others.  The  first  list  appeared  in  April,  1894.  The  reports  it  brought 
in  soon  showed  me  that  some  of  the  questions  were  useless,  or  not  well  put. 
It  is  interesting  and  sometimes  laughable  to  see  how  easily  a  question  may 
be  misunderstood,  though  the  greatest  pains  have  been  taken  to  make  it 
clear  and  to  the  point.  For  example,  I  asked  the  question:  "Do  you  use 
the  term  fryingpan,  skillet,  or  spider?"  and  then  added  :  "  If  more  than  one, 
how  do  you  differentiate?"  In  reply  to  this  latter  question,  several  very 
intelligent  persons  have  answered :  "  By  the  addition  of  the  usual  plural 
sign  -es."  To  the  questions  "How  would  you  call  a  horse  when  at  some 
distance?"  "How  would  you  call  a  cow?"  I  have  received  severally  the 
answers:  "A  horse"  and  "A  cow."  The  answers  also  suggested  the  inser- 
tion of  new  questions.  Thus,  from  the  start,  each  issue  of  the  list  has 
incorporated  changes  and  increased  its  length.  This  is  an  almost  irresistible 
temptation,  but  the  yielding  to  it  had,  in  time,  serious  consequences.  The 
list  became  so  long  that  it  appeared  to  most  persons  too  formidable.  This 
is  a  mistake  against  which  I  would  particularly  warn  future  investigators. 
I  was  ultimately  forced  to  issue  a  smaller  list  containing  only  the  most 
important  questions.  The  last  question  in  this  is :  "  Do  you  wish  to  answer 
a  longer  list  of  such  questions  ? " ;  in  this  way  I  am  enabled  to  send  the 
long  list  almost  exclusively  to  those  who  I  know  will  answer  it. 

Of  the  various  issues  of  the  long  list,  I  have  printed  and  sent  out  nearly 
10,000 ;  of  the  short  list,  I  have  printed  8,000,  and  have  sent  out  about  one 
half  of  them.  As  it  takes  but  a  few  minutes  to  fill  out  the  latter,  a  much 
larger  percent  are  returned.  The  long  list  has  also  been  reprinted  in  half 
a  dozen  periodicals.  I  have  now  3000  sets  of  answers  to  the  long  list  and 
nearly  as  many  to  the  short  list.  They  are  arranged  according  to  towns  in 
a  county,  and  counties  in  a  state,  and  are  kept  in  manilla  portfolios  in  long 
flat  pigeon  holes  in  a  cabinet  specially  prepared  for  them.  It  is  thus 
possible  to  get  at  any  report  at  a  moment's  notice.  But  the  amount  of  time 
originally  required  to  arrange  the  material  and  to  incorporate  the  daily 
accessions  to  the  collection  is  much  greater  than  one  would  at  first  suppose. 
Every  report  must  first  be  gone  over,  that  it  may  be  seen  whether  it  is  trust- 
worthy and  whether  it  is  free  from  influences  of  districts  other  than  the  one 
represented.  The  reports  that  are  thus  found  to  be  imperfect  are  either 
discarded  or  crossed  with  a  heavy  blue  mark  of  warning.  The  names  of 
the  county  and  town  must  then  be  marked  prominently  in  color  at  the  head 
of  the  list.  Nor  can  a  correspondent  be  trusted  to  have  given  all  these 
items  correctly.  It  is  surprising  to  see  how  many  intelligent  people  do  not 
know  in  what  county  they  live,  or  think  they  live  in  a  county  adjoining 
the  one  in  which  their  town  is  situated.  I  also  keep  for  ready  reference 
copies  of  the  United  States  and  Canada  Postal  Guides,  in  which  are  duly 
checked  all  the  towns  heard  from. 


XIV  MODERN   LANGUAGE   ASSOCIATION. 

In  the  accumulation  of  the  collection  I  have  been  aided  by  more  people 
than  I  can  ever  mention.  Strangers  have  been  fully  as  kind  as  friends  and 
acquaintances.  At  first  my  colleagues  disappointed  me;  but  when  I  devised 
two  or  three  schemes  whereby  they  might  aid  me,  they  did  so  in  the  most 
generous  fashion.  One  of  these  was  the  assignment  of  the  answering  of  the 
questions  as  a  task  in  English,  the  students  handing  in  the  report  in  place 
of  an  essay.  This  scheme  brought  me  much  very  valuable  material,  but  it 
soon  began  to  bring  in  unnecessary  duplications.  Later  I  had  blanks  pre- 
pared which  I  send  to  instructors,  no  matter  what  they  teach,  and  which 
they  pass  about  their  classes  for  their  students  to  write  upon  them  their 
names  and  the  town,  county,  and  state  in  which  they  lived  during  the  period 
of  the  establishment  of  their  usage.  These  sheets  are  returned  to  me,  and 
I  take  from  them  the  names  of  those  students  who  report  places  not  yet 
heard  from,  and  then  send  these  students  copies  of  the  brief  list. 

The  original  purpose  of  the  investigation,  was,  as  I  have  frequently  stated, 
the  outlining  of  the  chief  dialect  districts.  I  already  know  about  where 
the  boundary  lines  run  (cf.  Dialect  Notes,  part  ix,  p.  438)  and  have  begun 
to  make  concentrated  study  of  sections  of  each  line.  Thus,  I  have  assigned 
northern  Indiana  by  counties  to  the  members  of  a  class  in  the  history  of 
the  English  language,  and  each  one  is  to  get — through  the  local  principal 
of  schools — a  report  from  every  town  of  1000  inhabitants,  and  to  make  maps 
of  the  county  for  three  or  four  of  the  questions.  I  shall  then  revise  and 
combine  these  county  maps  and  thus  determine  of  the  line  dividing  the 
North  from  the  Midland,  that  section  that  runs  through  northern  Indiana. 
I  now  intend  to  publish  first  such  sections  of  the  lines  and  only  later  a  map 
of  the  country  as  a  whole. 

As  hinted  above,  the  answers  bring  in  much  information  that  was  not 
looked  for.  In  fact,  I  doubt  whether  the  original  purpose  of  the  investiga- 
tion, namely,  the  determination  of  dialect  boundaries,  will  turn  out  to  be 
the  most  valuable  result  of  the  undertaking.  The  collection  is  rich  in 
material  that  throws  a  flood  of  light  on  general  linguistic  questions,  espe- 
cially on  speech  mixture  and  dialect  formation  and  on  the  survival,  the 
spread,  and  the  mutual  modification  of  rival  forms.  I  personally  shall,  in 
all  probability,  exploit  but  a  small  part  of  this  treasure.  I  intend  to  de- 
posit it  in  time  in  some  public  library,  where,  after  those  of  this  generation 
have  obtained  from  it  what  they  find  valuable,  it  may  form  the  basis  of  the 
studies  of  others,  to  whom  much  of  what  is  to  us  matter  of  fact  in  our 
speech  would  otherwise  be  unknown  or  known  only  with  uncertainty.  In 
the  light  of  the  importance  of  the  collection,  I  would,  therefore,  again 
appeal  to  all  to  aid  in  making  it  as  complete  as  can  be.  Additions  will 
always  be  welcome,  even  years  from  now ;  but  the  sooner  a  report  comes  in, 
the  greater  the  use  that  can  be  made  of  it.  I  would  especially  urge  those 
of  my  colleagues  that  have  not  yet  passed  about  in  their  classes  the  blanks 
I  have  prepared  for  gathering  names,  to  let  me  know  of  their  willingness 

to  do  so. 

GEORGE  HEMPL. 


PROCEEDINGS   FOB   1897.  XV 

The  Chairman  of  the  Committee  of  Twelve,  Professor 
Calvin  Thomas,  gave  an  oral  account  of  the  work  of  the 
Committee  during  the  past  year,  and  outlined  the  further  plans 
of  the  Committee.  He  also  asked  for  the  appropriation  of 
three  hundred  dollars  (in  addition  to  the  unexpended  balance 
of  the  appropriation  granted  for  the  past  year),  for  the  con- 
tinuance (and  probably  the  conclusion)  of  the  work  of  the 
Committee.  This  request  was  granted  by  a  vote  of  the 
Association. 

The  Committee  on  Place  of  Meeting  recommended  the 
acceptance  of  the  invitation  of  the  officers  of  the  University 
of  Virginia  to  hold  the  next  annual  meeting  of  the  Association 
in  Charlottesville,  Va.  This  recommendation  was  accepted  by 
a  vote  of  the  Association. 

In  accordance  with  the  nominations  made  by  the  Committee 
on  Officers,  the  following  officers  of  the  Association  for  the 
year  1898  were  elected  : 

President :  Alcee  Fortier,  Tulane  University. 

Secretary :  James  W.  Bright,  Johns  Hopkins  University. 

Treasurer  :  Herbert  E.  Greene,  Johns  Hopkins  University. 

Executive  Council. 

C.  T.  Winchester,  Wesleyan  University. 
Bliss  Perry,  Princeton  University. 
Albert  S.  Cook,  Yale  University. 
Gustaf  E.  Karsten,  University  of  Indiana. 
Richard  Hochdorfer,  Wittenberg  College. 
Charles  M.  Gayley,  University  of  California. 
James  A.  Harrison,  University  of  Virginia. 
W.  S.  Currell,  Washington  and  Lee  University. 
A.  E,.  Hohlfeld,  Vanderbilt  University. 

Phonetic  Section. 

President :  A.  Melville  Bell,  Washington,  D.  C. 
Secretary  :  George  Hempl,  University  of  Michigan. 


XVI  MODEEN   LANGUAGE   ASSOCIATION. 

Pedagogical  Section. 

President :  F.  N.  Scott,  University  of  Michigan. 
Secretary  :  W.  E.  Mead,  Wesleyan  University. 

Editorial  Committee. 

H.  Schmidt- Wartenberg,  University  of  Chicago. 
C.  H.  Grandgent,  Harvard  University. 

The  committee  appointed  to  audit  the  Treasurer's  accounts 
reported  that  the  accounts  were  found  to  be  correct. 

On  motion  of  Professor  A.  Gudeman  the  Secretary  of  the 
Association  was  instructed  to  communicate  with  the  officers  of 
the  American  Oriental  Society  and  of  the  American  Philo- 
logical Association  with  reference  to  the  consideration  of 
plans  for  a  joint-meeting  of  the  Association  with  these  two 
organizations. 

The  Secretary  of  the  Association  presented  a  request  to 
address  the  Committee  on  Interstate  Commerce,  in  the  U.  S. 
Senate,  on  the  subject  of  the  "Anti-Ticket  Scalping  Bill." 
On  motion  of  Professor  A.  Cohn,  the  Secretary  was  instructed 
to  reply  that  the  statutes  of  the  Association  precluded  the 
consideration  of  questions  not  related  to  the  work  and  purpose 
of  the  Association. 

The  reading  of  papers  was  resumed. 

14.  "  Color  in  Old  English  poetry."  By  Professor  W.  E. 
Mead,  of  Wesleyan  University.  [To  be  issued  in  Publica- 
tions, XIV.] 

This  paper  was  discussed  by  Professors  W.  H.  Hulme,  A. 
Gudeman,  Herbert  E.  Greene,  C.  S.  Baldwin,  and  James  W. 
Bright. 

Professor  A.  Marshall  Elliott  was  asked  to  preside. 


PROCEEDINGS   FOR    1897.  Xvii 

15.  "  Professor  Schultz-Gora,  and  the  Testament  de  Rous- 
seau"    By  Professor  Adolphe  Cohn,  of  Columbia  University. 
[An  abstract  is  printed  in  Mod.  Lang.  Notes,  March,  1898, 
p.  73.] 

16.  "  Kecent  work  in  Celtic."     By  Dr.  F.  N.  Eobinson,  of 
Harvard  University. 

17.  "  The  relation  of  the  Old  English  version  of  the  Gospel 
of  Nicodemus  to  the  Latin  original."     By  Professor  William 
H.  Hulme,  of  Adelbert  College.     [Printed  in  Publications, 
xm,  457  f.] 

18.  "The  French  literature  of  Louisiana  from   1894  to 
1897."     By  Professor  Alcee  Fortier,  of  Tulane  University. 
[Read  by  title.] 

19.  "The  rhythm  of  proper  names  in  Old  English  verse." 
By  Professor  James  W.  Bright,  of  the  Johns  Hopkins  Uni- 
versity.    [Read  by  title.] 


[The  American  Dialect  Society  held  its  Annual  Meeting  at 
5  o'clock.] 

Provost  and  Mrs.  Charles  C.  Harrison  received  the  ladies 
and  gentlemen  of  the  Association  at  their  home,  1618  Locust 
Street,  Tuesday  evening,  December  28th,  at  8.30  o'clock. 

FOURTH    SESSION,  DECEMBER  29. 

President  Cook  opened  the  fourth  and  closing  regular  session 
of  the  convention  at  9.30  o'clock,  a.  m.,  Wednesday,  Decem- 
ber 29. 

20.    "Early  influence  of  German  literature  in  America." 
By  Dr.  Frederick  H.  Wilkens,  of  Baltimore,  Md. 
9 


XV111  MODERN    LANGUAGE   ASSOCIATION. 

This  paper  was  discussed  by  Professors  W.  T.  Hewett  and 
M.  D.  Learned. 

21.  "On  translating  Anglo-Saxon  poetry."     By  Professor 
Edward  Fulton,  of  Wells  College.     [Printed  in  Publications, 
xin,  286  f.] 

This  paper  was  discussed  by  Professors  Albert  8.  Cook, 
James  M.  Garnett,  E.  H.  Magill,  Felix  E.  Schelling,  W.  H. 
Hulme,  F.  N.  Scott,  A.  Gudeman,  and  James  W.  Bright. 

22.  "Boccaccio's  Defense  of  Poetry,  as  contained  in  the 
fourteenth   book  of  the  De  Genealogia  Deorum"     By  Miss 
Elizabeth   Woodbridge,  of   Yale   University.     [Printed    in 
Publications,  xin,  333  f.] 

Comments  upon  this  paper  were  offered  by  Professor  F.  IS". 
Scott. 

23.  "A  sonnet  ascribed  to  Chiaro  Davanzati,  and  its  place 
in  fable  literature."     By  Dr.  Kenneth  McKenzie,  of  Union 
College.     [Printed  in  Publications,  xin,  205  f.] 

No  time  could  be  allowed  for  the  discussion  of  this  and  of 
the  following  papers. 

24.  "  Seventeenth  Century  conceits."     By  Dr.  Clarence  G. 
Child,  of  the  University  of  Pennsylvania. 

25.  "  Verbal  taboos,  their  nature  and  origin."     By  Pro- 
fessor F.  N.  Scott,  of  the  University  of  Michigan. 

26.  "  Prepositions  in  the  works  of  Hans  Sachs."     By  Dr. 
C.  R.  Miller,  of  Lehigh  University.     [Read  by  title.] 

Professor  E.  E.  Hale,  Jr.,  offered  the  following  resolutions, 
which  were  unanimously  adopted  by  a  vote  of  the  Association  : 

Resolved,  That  the  Modern  Language  Association  of 
America,  now  convened  for  its  fifteenth  annual  meeting, 
hereby  expresses  hearty  appreciation  of  the  cordial  words  in 
which  the  Provost  of  the  University  of  Pennsylvania,  Dr. 
Charles  C.  Harrison,  has  welcomed  the  Association  to  Pliila- 


PEOCEEDINGS   FOR    1897.  xix 

delphia ;  and  also  records  grateful  thanks  to  the  Officers  of 
the  University  of  Pennsylvania,  and  to  the  members  of  the 
Local  Committee,  for  the  generous  and  efficient  entertainment 
of  this  Convention ;  and 

Resolved,  That  the  Association  expresses  to  Provost  and 
Mrs.  Charles  C.  Harrison  appreciative  acknowledgment  for 
their  hospitable  reception  of  the  members  of  the  Association. 

The  Association  adjourned  at  1  o'clock  p.  m. 


XX  MODERN   LANGUAGE   ASSOCIATION. 


OFFICERS  OF  THE  ASSOCIATION  FOR  1898. 


President, 
ALCEE  FORTIER, 

Tulane  University,  New  Orleans,  La. 
Secretary,  Treasurer, 

JAMES  W.  BRIGHT,  HERBERT  E.  GREENE, 

Johns  Hopkins  University,  Baltimore,  Md.        Johns  Hopkins  University,  Baltimore,  Md. 

EXECUTIVE   COUNCIL. 
C.  T.  WINCHESTER,  BLISS  PERRY, 

Wesleyan  University,  Middletown,  Conn.  Princeton  University,  Princeton,  N.  J. 

ALBERT  S.  COOK,  RICHARD  HOCHDORFER, 

Yale  University,  New  Haven,  Conn.  Wittenberg  College,  Springfield,  Ohio. 

GUSTAV  E.  KARSTEN,          CHARLES  M.  GAYLEY, 

University  of  Indiana,  Bloomington,  Ind.  University  of  California,  Berkeley,  Cal. 

J.  A.  HARRISON,  W.  S.  CURRELL, 

University  of  Virginia,  Charlottesville,  Va.      Washington  and  Lee  University,  Lexington,  Va. 

A.  R.  HOHLFELD, 

Vanderbilt  University,  Nashville,  Tenn. 


PHONETIC  SECTION. 

President,  Secretary, 

A.  MELVILLE  BELL,  GEORGE  HEMPL, 

Washington,  D.  C.  University  of  Michigan,  Ann  Arbor,  Mich. 

PEDAGOGICAL  SECTION. 

President,  Secretary, 

F.  N.  SCOTT,  W.  E.  MEAD, 

University  of  Michigan,  Ann  Arbor,  Mich.  Wesley  an  University,  Middletown,  Conn. 


EXECUTIVE  COMMITTEE. 
C.  T.  WINCHESTER,  JAMES  A.  HARRISON, 

First  Vice-President.  Second  Vice-President. 

RICHARD  HOCHDORFER, 

Third  Vice-President. 

EDITORIAL  COMMITTEE. 
C.  H.  GRANDGENT,  H.  SCHMIDT- WARTENBERG, 

Harvard  University,  Cambridge,  Mass.  University  of  Chicago,  Chicago,  HI. 


PROCEEDINGS    FOR    1897. 


MEMBERS  OF  THE  MODERN  LANGUAGE 
ASSOCIATION  OF  AMERICA 

(INCLUDING  MEMBERS  OF  THE  CENTRAL  DIVISION  OF  THE 

ASSOCIATION).1 


Abernethy,  Mr.  J.  W.,  231  Lincoln  Place,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 

Adams,  Dr.  W.  A.,  Yale  University,  New  Haven,  Conn.    [2  Phelps  Hall.] 

Adler,  Dr.  Cyrus,  Smithsonian  Institute,  Washington,  D.  C. 

Akers,  Prof.  J.  T.,  Central  College,  Richmond,  Ky. 

Alden,  Mr.  R.  M.,  3737  Locust  St.,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 

Allen,  Prof.  Edward  A.,  University  of  Missouri,  Columbia,  Mo. 

Allen,  Dr.  Philip  S.,  612  Maple  St.,  Station  O,  Chicago,  111. 

Almstedt,  Mr.  Hermann  B.,  University  of  Chicago,  Chicago,  111. 

Armstrong,  Dr.  E.  C.,  Johns  Hopkins  University,  Baltimore,  Md. 

Armstrong,  Prof.  J.  L.,  Randolph-Macon  Woman's  College,  Lynchburg,  Va. 

Augustin,  Prof.  Marie  J.,  Sophie  Newcomb  Memorial  College,  New  Orleans, 

La. 
Aviragnet.  Prof.  E.,  Bucknell  University,  Lewisburg,  Pa. 

Babbitt,  Prof.  E.  H.,  Columbia  University,  New  York,  N.  Y. 
Bader,  Prof.  John  H.,  City  Schools,  Staunton,  Va. 
Baillot,  Prof.  E.  P.,  Northwestern  University,  Evanston,  111. 
Baker,  Dr.  T.  S.,  1202  Mt.  Royal  Avenue,  Baltimore,  Md. 
Baldwin,  Dr.  C.  S.,  Yale  University,  New  Haven,  Conn. 
Bartlett,  Mr.  D.  L.,  16  W.  Monument  St.,  Baltimore,  Md. 
Bartlett,  Prof.  G.  A.,  Harvard  University,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Baskervill,  Prof.  W.  M.,  Vanderbilt  University,  Nashville,  Tenn. 
Becker,  Dr.  E.  J.,  2131  Maryland  Avenue,  Baltimore,  Md. 
Belden,  Dr.  H.  M.,  University  of  Missouri,  Columbia,  Mo. 
Bell,  Prof.  A.  Melville,  1525  35th  St.,  W.,  Washington,  D.  C. 
Benton,  Prof.  Chas.  W.,  University  of  Minnesota,  Minneapolis,  Minn. 
Bernays,  Miss  Thekla,  3623  Laclede  Avenue.,  St.  Louis,  Mo. 
Bevier,  Prof.  Louis,  Rutgers  College,  New  Brunswick,  N.  J. 
Bierwirth,  Dr.  H.  C.  Harvard  University,  Cambridge,  Mass. 

1  Members  are  earnestly  requested  to  notify  promptly  both  the  Secretary 
and  the  Treasurer  of  change  of  address. 


XX11  MODERN  LANGUAGE  ASSOCIATION. 

Bignell,  Mr.  Wm.,  High  School,  Allegheny,  Pa. 

Blackburn,  Prof.  F.  A.,  University  of  Chicago,  Chicago,  111. 

Black  well,  Prof.  R.  E.,  Randolph-Macon  College,  Ashland,  Va. 

Blake,  Prof.  Estelle,  Arkadelphia,  Ark. 

Blau,  Dr.  Max  F.,  Adelphi  College,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 

Bloomberg,  Prof.  A.  A.,  Lafayette  College,  Easton,  Pa. 

Blume,  Mr.  Julius,  1119  Bolton  St.,  Baltimore,  Md. 

Boatwright,  President  F.  W.,  Richmond  College,  Richmond,  Va. 

Both-Hendricksen,  Miss  L.,  166  Macon  St.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 

Bothne,  Prof.  Gisle,  Luther  College,  Decorah,  Iowa. 

Boughton,  Prof.  Willis,  Ohio  University,  Athens,  Ohio. 

Bowen,  Prof.  B.  L.,  Ohio  State  University,  Columbus,  Ohio. 

Bowen,  Dr.  E.  W.,  Randolph-Macon  College,  Ashland,  Va. 

Boyd,  Prof.  John  C.,  University  of  Wooster,  Wooster,  Ohio. 

Bradshaw,  Prof.  S.  E.,  Bethel  College,  Russelville,  Ky. 

Brandt,  Prof.  H.  C.  G.,  Hamilton  College,  Clinton,  N.  Y. 

Bre'de',  Prof.  C.  F.,  Pennsylvania  College,  Gettysburg,  Pa.     [Box  242.] 

Bright,  Prof.  James  W.,  Johns  Hopkins  University,  Baltimore,  Md. 

Brinton,  Dr.  D.  G.,  Media,  Pa. 

Bristol,  Mr.  E.  N.,  29  W.  23d  St.,  New  York,  N.  Y. 

Broatch,  Mr.  J.  W.,  596  Pierson  Hall,  Yale  University,  New  Haven,  Conn. 

Bronson,  Prof.  T.  B.,  Lawrenceville  School,  Lawrenceville  N.  J. 

Brown,  Prof.  A.  N.,  Naval  Academy,  Annapolis,  Md. 

Brown,  Prof.  Calvin  S.,  Vanderbilt  University,  Nashville,  Tenn. 

Brown,  Prof.  E.  M.,  University  of  Cincinnati,  Cincinnati,  Ohio. 

Brownell,  Dr.  George  G.,  University  of  Alabama,  Tuscaloosa,  Ala. 

Bruce,  Prof.  J.  D.,  Bryn  Mawr  College,  Bryn  Mawr,  Pa. 

Brumbaugh,  Prof.  M.  G.,  University  of  Pennsylvania,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 

Bruner,  Prof.  James  D.,  University  of  Chicago,  Chicago,  111. 

Brush,  Dr.  Murray  P.,  University  of  Ohio,  Columbus,  Ohio. 

Brusie,  Prof.  C.  F.,  Mt.  Pleasant  Academy,  Sing  Sing,  N.  Y. 

Bryan,  Ensign  Henry  F.,  Naval  Academy,  Annapolis,  Md. 

Buck,  Miss  Gertrude,  Vassar  College,  Poughkeepsie,  N.  Y. 

Buehler,  Rev.  Huber  Gray,  Hotchkiss  School,  Lakeville,  Conn. 

Butler,  Prof.  F.  R.,  Boston  University,  Boston,  Mass.  [168  Lafayette  Street. 

Salem,  Mass.]. 
Butler,  Pierce,  Johns  Hopkins  University,  Baltimore,  Md. 

Cabeen,  Prof.  Chas,  W.,  403  University  Place,  Syracuse,  N.  Y. 

Callaway,  Jr.,  Prof.  M.,  University  of  Texas,  Austin,  Texas. 

Cameron,  Prof.  A.  Guyot,  Princeton  University,  Princeton,  N.  J.  [10  Bayard 

Ave.] 

Campbell,  Dr.  Killis,  Culver  Milit.  Academy,  Culver,  Ind. 
Canfield,  Prof.  A.  G.,  University  of  Kansas,  Lawrence,  Kansas. 
Carpenter,  Dr.  F.  I.,  University  of  Chicago,  Chicago,  111. 


PROCEEDINGS  FOR  1897.  xxiii 

Carpenter,  Prof.  G.  R.,  Columbia  University,  New  York,  N.  Y. 

Carruth,  Prof.  W.  H.,  University  of  Kansas,  Lawrence,  Kansas. 

Carson,  Miss  Luella  Clay,  University  of  Oregon,  Eugene,  Oregon. 

Chapman,  Prof.  Henry  Leland,  Bowdoin  College,  Brunswick,  Maine. 

Chase,  Dr.  Frank  H.,  2  University  Place,  New  Haven,  Conn. 

Chase,  President  G.  C.,  Bates  College,  Lewiston,  Maine. 

Cheek,  Prof.  8.  R.,  Centre  College,  Danville,  ^Ky. 

Child,  Dr.  Clarence  G.,  University  of  Pennsylvania,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  [2118 

DeLancey  PI.] 

Clapp,  Prof.  John  M.,  Illinois  College,  Jacksonville,  111. 
Clark,  Prof.  J.  Scott,  Northwestern  University,  Evanston,  111. 
Clary,  Mr.  S.  W.,  110  Boylston  St.,  Boston,  Mass. 
Clerc,  Miss  Molina,  1634  I  Street,  Washington,  D.  C. 
Cohn,  Prof.  Adolphe,  Columbia  University,  New  York,  N.  Y. 
Cohn,  Prof.  H.,  Northwestern  University,  Evanston,  111. 
Coggeshall,  Miss  Louise  K.,  102  E.  57th  St.,  New  York,  N.  Y. 
Colin,  Dr.  The'rese  F.,  Bryn  Mawr,  Pa. 

Collins,  Prof.  George  S.,  Brooklyn  Polytechnic  Institute,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 
Collitz,  Prof.  H.,  Bryn  Mawr  College,  Bryn  Mawr,  Pa. 
Colville,  Mr.  W.  T.,  Carbondale,  Pa. 

Colvin,  Dr.  Mary  Noyes,  College  for  Women,  Cleveland,  Ohio. 
Conant,  Prof.  C.  Everett,  Lincoln  University,  Lincoln,  111. 
Conklin,  Prof.  Clara,  University  of  Nebraska,  Lincoln,  Neb. 
Cook,  Prof.  Albert  S.,  Yale  University,  New  Haven,  Conn. 
Cooper,  Prof.  W.  A.,  Marietta  College,  Marietta,  Ohio. 
Corwin,  Dr.  Robert  N.,  Yale  University,  New  Haven,  Conn. 
Crabb,  Dr.  Wilson  D.,  Greenville  Seminary,  Greenville,  Ky. 
Crane,  Prof.  T.  F.,  Cornell  University,  Ithaca,  N.  Y. 
Crawshaw,  Prof.  W.  H.,  Colgate  University,  Hamilton,  N.  Y. 
Crow,  Dr.  Chas.  L.,  Weatherford  College,  Weatherford,  Texas. 
Crow,  Prof.  M.  Foote,  University  of  Chicago,  Chicago,  111. 
Crowell,  Mr.  A.  C.,  German  Seminar,  Brown  University,  Providence,  R.  I. 
Curdy,  Prof.  A.  E.,  Michigan  Military  Academy,  Orchard  Lake,  Mich. 
Curme,  Prof.  G.  O.,  Northwestern  University,  Evanston,  111. 
Currell,  Prof.  W.  S.,  Washington  and  Lee  University,  Lexington,  Va. 
Cutler,  Miss  S.  R.,  University  of  Chicago,  Chicago,  111. 
Cutting,  Prof.  Starr  W.,  University  of  Chicago,  Chicago,  111. 

van  Daell,  Prof.  A.  N.,  Mass.  Inst.  of  Technology,  Boston,  Mass. 

Davidson,  Prof.  Charles,  Albany,  N.  Y.     [1  Sprague  Place.] 

Davidson,  Prof.  F.  J.  A.,  Stanford  University,  Cal. 

Davies,  Prof.  W.  W.,  Ohio  Wesleyan  University,  Delaware,  Ohio. 

Dawson,  Prof.  Arthur  C.,  Lake  Forest  University,  Lake  Forest,  111. 

De  Haan,  Prof.  Fonger,  Bryn  Mawr  College,  Bryn  Mawr,  Pa. 

Deering,  Prof.  R.  W.,  Woman's  College,  Cleveland,  Ohio.     [80  Cornell  St.] 


XXIV  MODERN   LANGUAGE   ASSOCIATION. 

Dehust,  Miss  Mary,  Monticello  Seminary,  Godfrey,  111. 

Deutsch,  Prof.  W.,  High  School,  St.  Louis,  Mo. 

Diekhoff,  Mr.  T.  J.  C.,  38  Packard  St.,  Ann  Arbor,  Mich. 

Divine,  Miss  Mary  L.,  85  Spring  St.,  Portland,  Maine. 

Dixon,  Prof.  J.  M.,  Washington  University,  St.  Louis,  Mo. 

Dodge,  Prof.  D.  K.,  University  of  Illinois,  Champaign,  111. 

Dodge,  Prof.  R.  E.  Neil,  University  of  Wisconsin,  Madison,  Wis.     [138 

West  Gorharn  St.] 

Douay,  Prof.  Gaston,  Washington  University,  St.  Louis,  Mo. 
Drake,  Dr.  Allison,  Columbia  University,  New  York,  N.  Y. 
Dunlap,  Prof.  C.  G.,  University  of  Kansas,  Lawrence,  Kansas. 

Easton,  Prof.  M.  W.,  University  of  Pennsylvania,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 

Eaton,  Mrs.  Abbie  Fiske,  338  57th  St.,  Chicago,  111. 

Edgar,  Prof.  Pelham,  Victoria  University,  Toronto,  Canada.  [113  Bloor 
St..  W.] 

Effinger,  Dr.  Jonn  R.,  University  of  Michigan,  Ann  Arbor,  Mich.  [1430 
Hill  Street.] 

Egge,  Prof.  Albert  E.,  Washington  Agricultural  College,  Pullman,  Wash- 
ington. 

Eggers,  Prof.  E.  A.,  State  Univ.  of  Ohio,  Columbus,  Ohio. 

Eliel,  Mrs.  Mathilde,  Hyde  Park  High  School^  Chicago,  111. 

Elliott,  Prof.  A.  Marshall,  Johns  Hopkins  University,  Baltimore,  Md. 

Emerson,  Prof.  O.  F.,  Western  Reserve  University,  Cleveland,  Ohio. 

Epes,  Prof.  John  D.,  State  Normal  School,  Warrensburg,  Mo. 

Faber,  Miss  Emily,  227  East  58th  St.,  New  York,  N.  Y. 

Fairchild,  Mr.  J.  R.,  American  Book  Co.,  New  York,  N.  Y. 

Farrand,  Prof.  Wilson,  Newark  Academy,  544  High  St.,  Newark,  N.  J. 

Faust,  Dr.  A.  B.,  Wesleyan  University,  Middletown,  Conn. 

Fay,  Prof.  C.  E.,  Tufts  College,  College  Hill,  Mass. 

Ferrell,  Prof.  C.  C.,  University  of  Mississippi,  University  P.  O.,  Miss. 

Ferren,  Dr.  H.  M.,  157  Lowrie  St.,  Allegheny,  Pa. 

Files,  Prof.  George  T.,  Bowdoin  College,  Brunswick,  Maine. 

von  Fingerlin,  Prof.  Edgar,  Furman  University,  Greenville,  S.  C. 

Fitz-Gerald,  Mr.  John  D.,  57  Liberty  St.,  Newark,  N.  J. 

Fitz-Hugh,   Prof.  Thomas,   University  of  Texas,   Austin,   Texas.     [2008 

Whitis  Ave.] 

Fluegel,  Prof.  Ewald,  Stanford  University,  Cal. 
Fontaine,  Prof.  J.  A.,  Bryn  Mawr  College,  Bryn  Mawr,  Pa. 
Ford,  Prof.  Joseph  S.,  Phillips  Exeter  Academy,  Exeter,  N.  H. 
Fortier,  Prof.  Alce"e,  Tulane  University,  New  Orleans,  La. 
Fossler,  Prof.  L.,  University  of  Nebraska,  Lincoln,  Neb. 
Foster,  Prof.  Irving  L.,  State  College,  Pa. 
Francke,  Prof.  K.,  Harvard  University,  Cambridge,  Mass. 


PROCEEDINGS   FOR    1897.  XXV 

Fraser,  Dr.  Emma,  Elmira  College,  Elmira,  N.  Y. 
Freeman,  Prof.  C.  C.,  Kentucky  University,  Lexington,  Ky. 
Freeman,  Miss  Mary  L.,  Northwestern  University,  Evanston,  111. 
Froelicher,  Prof.  H.,  Woman's  College,  Baltimore,  Md. 
Fruit,  Prof.  John  P.,  William  Jewell  College,  Liberty,  Mo. 
Fuller,  Prof.  Paul,  P.  O.  Box  2559,  New  York,  N.  Y. 
Fulton,  Prof.  Edward,  Wells  College,  Aurora,  N.  Y. 

Garner,  Prof.  S.,  Naval  Academy,  Annapolis,  Md. 

Garnett,  Prof.  J.  M.,  Baltimore,  Md.     [1316  Bolton  St.] 

Garrett,  Dr.  Alfred  C.,  Harvard  University,  Cambridge,  Mass. 

Gaw,  Mrs.  Ealph  H.,  1321  Fillmore  St.,  Topeka,  Kansas. 

Gayley,  Prof.  Charles  M.,  University  of  California,  Berkeley,  Cal. 

Geddes,  Jr.,  Prof.  James,  Boston  University,  Boston,  Mass. 

Gerber,  Prof.  A.,  Earlham  College,  Richmond,  Ind. 

Glen,  Prof.  Irving  M.,  University  of  Oregon,  Eugene,  Oregon. 

Gloss,  Miss  Janet  C.,  Washington  University,  St.  Louis,  Mo.  [2828  Wash- 
ington Ave.] 

Goebel,  Prof.  Julius,  Stanford  University,  Cal. 

Gorrell,  Dr.  J.  H.,  Wake  Forest  College,  Wake  Forest,  N.  C. 

Graeser,  Prof.  C.  A.,  Supt.  Public  Schools,  Darlington,  S.  C. 

Grandgent,  Prof.  C.  H.,  Harvard  University,  Cambridge,  Mass.  [107 
Walker  St.] 

Greene,  Prof.  Herbert  E.,  Johns  Hopkins  University,  Baltimore,  Md. 

Gregor,  Prof.  Leigh  R.,  McGill  University,  Montreal,  Canada. 

Grossman,  Prof.  Edward  A.,  1  W.  81st  St.,  New  York,  N.  Y. 

Griffin,  Prof.  James  O.,  Stanford  University,  Cal. 

Griffin,  Mr.  N.  E.,  1027  N.  Cal  vert  St.,  Baltimore,  Md. 

Gruener,  Prof.  Gustav,  Yale  University,  New  Haven,  Conn. 

Gudeman,  Prof.  A.,  University  of  Pennsylvania,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 

Gummere,  Prof.  F.  B.  Haverford  College,  Pa. 

Gutknecht,  Miss  L.  L.,  6340  Butler  St.,  Chicago,  111. 

Gwinn,  Dr.  Mary  M.,  Bryn  Mawr  College,  Bryn  Mawr,  Pa. 

Hale,  Jr.,  Prof.  E.  E.,  Union  College,  Schenectady,  N.  Y. 
Hall,  Prof.  J.  Leslie,  College  of  William  and  Mary,  Williamsburg,  Va. 
Hamburger,  Prof.  Felix,  Pawtucket,  R.  I. 

Hanscom,  Dr.  Elizabeth  D.,  17  Henshaw  Ave.,  Northampton,  Mass. 
Harper,  Prof.  G.  M.,  Princeton  University,  Princeton,  N.  J. 
Harris,  Prof.  Chas.,  Adelbert  College,  Cleveland,  Ohio. 
Harris,  Miss  M.  A.,  Rockford  College,  Rockford,  111. 
Harrison,  Prof.  J.  A.,  University  of  Virginia,  Charlottesville,  Va. 
Harrison,  Prof.  T.  P.,  Davidson  College,  N.  C. 

Hart,  Prof.  C.  E.  Rutgers  College,  New  Brunswick,  N.  J.  [83  Livingston 
Avenue.  ] 


XXVI  MODERN   LANGUAGE   ASSOCIATION. 

Hart,  Prof.  J.  M.,  Cornell  University,  Ithaca,  N.  Y. 

Hatfield,  Prof.  James  T.,  Northwestern  University,  Evanston,  111. 

Haupt,  Prof.  Paul,  Johns  Hopkins  University,  Baltimore,  Md. 

Hausknecht,  Prof.  Emil,  Thaer  Str.  21,  Berlin,  N.  W.,  Germany. 

Hausmann,  Dr.  W.  A.,  157  Lowrie  St.,  Allegheny,  Pa. 

Hay,  Prof.  Henry  H,  Girard  College,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 

Heller,  Prof.  Otto,  Washington  University,  St.  Louis,  Mo. 

Hempl,  Prof.  George,  University  of  Michigan,  Ann  Arbor,  Mich.  [1033  E. 

University  Ave.] 

Hench,  Prof.  G.  A.  University  of  Michigan,  Ann  Arbor,  Mich. 
Henckels,  Prof.  Theodore,  Middlebury,  Vt. 

Henneman,  Prof.  J.  B.,  University  of  Tennessee,  Knoxville,  Tenn. 
Hervey,  Mr.  William  A.,  Columbia  University,  New  York,  N.  Y. 
Heuermann,  Miss  Louise  M.,  85  Hancock  St.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 
Hewitt,  Prof.  W.  T.,  Cornell  University,  Ithaca,  N  Y. 
Higgins,  Miss  Alice,  401  Macon  St.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 
Hinckley,  Mr.  Henry  Barrett,  54  Prospect  St.,  Northampton,  Mass. 
Hobigand,  Mr.  J.  A.,  Boston  School  of  Languages,  88  Boylston  St.,  Boston, 


Hochdorfer,  Prof.  B.,  Wittenberg  College,  Springfield,  Ohio. 
Hoffman,  Prof.  B.  F.,  University  of  Missouri,  Columbia,  Missouri. 
Hohlfeld,  Prof.  A.  R.,  Vanderbilt  University,  Nashville,  Tenn. 
Holzwarth,  Prof.  F.  J.,  Syracuse  University,  Syracuse,  N.  Y. 
Horning,  Prof.  L.  E.,  Victoria  University,  Toronto,  Ont. 
Hospes,  Mrs.  Cecilia,  3001  Lafayette  Avenue,  St.  Louis,  Mo. 
Howe,  Miss  M.  A.,  Miss  Porter's  School,  Farmington,  Conn. 
Howell,  Miss  Bertha,  State  Normal  School,  Milwaukee,  Wis. 
Hubbard,  Rev.  Chas.  F.,  289  Highland  Ave.,  Buffalo,  N.  Y. 
Hubbard,  Prof.  F.  G.,  University  of  Wisconsin,  Madison,  Wis. 
Huguenin,  Mr.  Julian,  Asheville,  N.  C. 

Hulme,  Prof.  Wm.  H.,  Western  Reserve  Univ.,  Cleveland,  Ohio.     [56  May- 
field  St.] 

Hunt,  Prof.  T.  W.,  Princeton  University,  Princeton,  N.  J. 
Huss,  Prof.  H.  C.  O.,  Princeton  University,  Princeton,  N.  J. 
Hutchinson,  Miss  Sarah  D.,  University  of  Iowa,  Iowa  City,  Iowa. 

Ingraham,  Prof.  A.,  The  Swain  Free  School,  New  Bedford,  Mass. 
Isaacs,  Prof.  A.  S.,  New  York  University,  New  York,  N.  Y. 

von  Jagemann,  Prof.  H.  C.  G.,  Harvard  University,  Cambridge,  Mass.    [113 

Walker  St.] 

James,  Dr.  A.  W.,  Miami  College,  Oxford,  Ohio. 
James,  Dr.  N.  C.,  Western  University,  London,  Ont. 
Jack,  Prof.  Albert  E.,  Lake  Forest  University,  Lake  Forest,  111. 
Jayne,  Miss  V.  D.,  University  of  Illinois,  Champaign,  111. 


PROCEEDINGS   FOR    1897. 

Jenkins,   Dr.  Thomas  A.,  Vanderbilt  University,   Nashville,  Tenn.     [19 

Garland  Ave.] 

Jessen,  Mr.  Karl  D.,  25  Kremperweg,  Itzehoe,  Germany. 
Jodocius,  Dr.  A.,  The  De  Lancey  School,  Cor.  17th  St.  and  De  Lancey  Place, 

Philadelphia,  Pa. 

Johnson,  Prof.  H.,  Bowdoin  College,  Brunswick,  Maine. 
Jonas,  Mr.  J.  B.  E.,  University  of  Chicago,  Chicago,  111. 
Jones,  Dr.  H.  P.,  Cornell  University,  Ithaca,  N.  Y. 
Jordan,  Miss  M.  A.,  Smith  College,  Northampton,  Mass. 
Joynes,  Prof.  E.  8.,  South  Carolina  College,  Columbia,  S.  C. 

Kammann,  Mr.  Chas.  H.,  Peoria  High  School,  Peoria,  111. 
Karsten,  Prof.  Gustaf  E.,  University  of  Indiana,  Bloomington,  Ind. 
Kaufman,  Mrs.  J.  J.,  Washington  University,  St.  Louis,  Mo.     [3117  Lucas 

Ave.] 

Keidel,  Dr.  George  C.,  Johns  Hopkins  University,  Baltimore,  Md. 
Kent,  Prof.  Charles  W.,  University  of  Virginia,  Charlottesville,  Va. 
Kern,  Dr.  Paul  O.,  University  of  Chicago,  Chicago,  111. 
Kerr,  Jr.,  Mr.  John  E.,  41  Beaver  St.,  New  York,  N.  Y. 
Key,  Mr.  W.  H.,  Central  College,  Fayette,  Mo. 
Kinard,  Prof.  James  P.,  Winthrop  Normal  and  Industrial  College,  Rock 

Hill,  S.  C. 

King,  Prof.  R.  A.,  Wabash  College,  Crawfordsville,  Ind. 
Kinney,  Mr.  Samuel  Wardwell,  Hobart  College,  Geneva,  N.  Y. 
Kittredge,  Prof.  G.  L.,  Harvard  University,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Klaeber,  Dr.  Frederick,  University  of  Minnesota,  Minneapolis,  Minn, 
von  Klenze,  Dr.  C.,  University  of  Chicago,  Chicago,  111. 
Knox,  Prof.  Charles  S.,  St.  Paul's  School,  Concord,  N.  H. 
Koenig,  Dr.  Walther  F.,  University  of  Pennsylvania,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 
Koren,  Prof.  William,  Mount  Pleasant,  Iowa. 
Krapp,  Mr.   George  P.,  Teachers  College,   Morningside   Heights,  120th 

Street,  W.,  New  York,  N.  Y. 

Kroeh,  Prof.  C.  F.,  Stevens  Inst.  of  Technology,  Hoboken,  N.  J. 
Krug,  Mr.  Joseph,  51  Fourth  Ave.,  Cleveland,  Ohio. 
Kuersteiner,  Prof.  A.  F.,  University  of  Indiana,  Bloomington,  Ind. 
Kuhns,  Prof.  L.  Oscar,  Wesleyan  University,  Middletown,  Conn. 

Ladd,  Prof.  Wm.  C.,  Haverford  College,  Haverford,  Pa. 

de  Lagneau,  Miss  L.  R.,  Lewis  Institute,  Chicago,  111. 

Lang,  Prof.  H.  R.,  Yale  University.  New  Haven,  Conn. 

Lange,  Prof.  Alexis  F.,  University  of  California,  Berkeley,  Cal. 

Lange,  Mr.  F.  J.,  High  School,  Elgin,  III. 

Learned,  Prof.  M.  D.,  University  of  Pennsylvania,  Philadelphia,  Pa.    [234 

South  38th  St.] 
Leavens,  Miss  Julia  Pauline,  21  E.  16th  Street,  New  York,  N.  Y. 


XXV111  MODERN   LANGUAGE   ASSOCIATION. 

Lewis,  Miss  Mary  Elizabeth,  University  of  South  Dakota,  Vermillion,  8.  D. 
Lewis,  Prof.  E.  H.,  University  of  Chicago,  Chicago,  111. 
Lewis,  Prof.  E.  S.,  Princeton  University,  Princeton,  N.  J. 
Lodeman,  Prof.  A.,  Michigan  State  Normal  School,  Ypsilanti,  Mich. 
Lodeman,  Dr.  F.  E.,  Cornell  University,  Ithaca,  N.  Y. 
Loiseaux,  Mr.  Louis  A.,  Columbia  University,  New  York,  N.  Y. 
Longden,  Prof.  Henry  B.,  De  Pauw  University,  Greencastle,  Ind. 
Loomis,  Prof.  Freeman,  Bucknell  University,  Lewisburg,  Pa. 
Lorenz,  Mr.  Theodore,  University  of  Pennsylvania,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 
Luquiens,  Prof.  J.,  Yale  University,  New  Haven,  Conn. 
Lutz,  Prof.  F.,  Albion  College,  Albion,  Mich. 
Lyman,  Dr.  A.  B.,  Lyrnan,  Md. 

Macine,  Prof.  John,  University  of  North  Dakota,  University,  N.  D. 

MacLean,  Chancellor  G.  E.,  University  of  Nebraska,  Lincoln,  Neb. 

MacMechan,  Prof.  Archibald,  Dalhousie  College,  Halifax,  N.  S.  [72  Vic- 
toria Eoad.] 

Magill,  Prof.  Edward  H.,  Swarthmore  College,  Swarthmore,  Pa. 

Manly,  Prof.  John  M.,  University  of  Chicago,  Chicago,  111. 

Manning,  Prof.  E.  W.,  Delaware  College,  Newark,  Del. 

March,  Prof.  Francis  A.,  Lafayette  College,  Easton,  Pa. 

March,  Jr.,  Prof.  Francis  A.,  Lafayette  College,  Easton,  Pa. 

Marcou,  Dr.  P.  B.,  Harvard  University,  Cambridge,  Mass.  [42  Garden  St.] 

Marden,  Dr.  C.  C.,  Johns  Hopkins  University,  Baltimore,  Md. 

Marsh,  Prof.  A.  E.,  Harvard  University,  Cambridge,  Mass. 

Mather,  Jr.,  Prof.  Frank  Jewett,  Williams  College,  Williamstown,  Mass. 

Matthews,  Prof.  Brander,  Columbia  College,  New  York,  N.  Y.  [681  West 
End  Ave.] 

Matzke,  Prof.  J.  E.,  Stanford  University,  Cal. 

McBryde,  Jr.,  Prof.  J.  M.,  Hollins  Institute,  Hollins,  Virginia. 

McCabe,  Prof.  W.  Gordon,  University  School,  Richmond,  Va. 

McClintock,  Prof.  W.  D.,  University  of  Chicago,  Chicago,  111. 

McClumpha,  Prof.  C.  F.,  University  of  Minnesota,  Minneapolis,  Minn. 

Mcllwaine,  Prof.  H.  E.,  Hampden  Sydney  College,  Prince  Edward  Co., 
Virginia. 

McKenzie,  Prof.  Kenneth,  West  Virginia  University,  Morgantown,  W.  Va. 

McKibben,  Prof.  G.  F.,  Denison  University,  Granville,  Ohio. 

McKnight,  Dr.  George  H.,  Cornell  University,  Ithaca,  N.  Y. 

McLouth,  Prof.  L.  A.,  New  York  University,  New  York,  N.  Y. 

Mead,  Prof.  W.  E.,  Wesleyan  University,  Middletown,  Conn.  [165  Broad 
St.] 

Menger,  Prof.  L.  E.,  Bryn  Mawr  College,  Bryn  Mawr,  Pa. 

Mensel,  Prof.  E.  H.,  University  of  Michigan,  Ann  Arbor,  Mich. 

Merrill,  Prof.  Katherine,  University  of  Chicago,  Chicago,  111. 


PROCEEDINGS   FOR   1897.  XXIX 

Meyer,  Dr.  Edward,  Western  Reserve  University,  Cleveland,  Ohio.     [844 

Logan  Avenue.] 

Meyer,  Prof.  George  H.,  Lake  Forest  Academy,  Lake  Forest,  111. 
Miller,  Dr.  Chas.  R.,  Lehigh  University,  South  Bethlehem,  Pa. 
Miller,  Prof.  Daniel  T.,  Brigham  Young  College,  Logan,  Utah. 
Mills,  Miss  Mary  W.,  Webster  Groves,  Mo. 

Molenaer,  Mr.  Samuel  P.,  University  of  Pennsylvania,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 
Montague,  Prof.  W.  L.,  Amherst  College,  Amherst,  Mass. 
Moore,  Mr.  A.  A.,  Cornell  University,  Ithaca,  N.  Y. 
Moore,  Prof.  R.  W.,  Colgate  University,  Hamilton,  N.  Y. 
Morris,  Prof.  G.  D.,  University  of  Indiana,  Bloomington,  Ind. 
Morton,  Prof.  A.  H.,  Williams  College,  Williamstown,  Mass. 
Morton,  Mr.  E.  P.,  University  of  Indiana,  Bloomington,  Ind. 
Mott,  Prof.  L.  F.,  College  of  the  City  of  New  York,  New  York,  N.  Y.     [17 

Lexington  Avenue.] 

Mulfinger,  Mr.  George  A.,  381  Marshfield  Avenue,  Chicago,  111. 
Muzzarelli,  Prof.  A.,  56  Liberty  St.,  Savannah,  Ga. 

Nash,  Prof.  B.  H.,  252  Beacon  St.,  Boston,  Mass. 

Neff,  Dr.  Th.  L.,  University  of  Chicago,  Chicago,  111. 

Nelson,  Prof.  Clara  A.,  Ohio  Wesleyan  University,  Delaware,  Ohio. 

Newcomer,  Prof.  A.  G.,  Stanford  University,  Cal. 

Nichols,  Prof.  Alfred  B.,  Harvard  University,  Cambridge,  Mass.  [20  Hoi- 
worthy  Hall.] 

Nitze,  Mr.  William  A.,  Roland  Park,  Baltimore,  Md. 

Noble,  Prof.  Charles,  Iowa  College,  Grinnell,  Iowa. 

Nollen,  Prof.  John  S.,  Iowa  College,  Grinnell,  Iowa. 

Nordby,  Mr.  Conrad  H.,  College  of  the  City  of  New  York,  New  York,  N. 
Y.  [17  Lexington  Ave.] 

Northup,  Mr.  C.  S.,  Cornell  University,  Ithaca,  N.  Y. 

Ogden,  Dr.  Philip,  Johns  Hopkins  University,  Baltimore,  Md. 
Olson,  Prof.  Julius  E.,  University  of  Wisconsin,  Madison,  Wis. 
Osthaus,  Prof.  Carl,  University  of  Indiana,  Bloomington,  Ind. 
Ott,  Prof.  J.  H.,  Watertown,  Wisconsin. 
Owen,  Prof.  Edward  T.,  University  of  Wisconsin,  Madison,  Wis. 

Pace,  Miss  Ida,  Arkansas  University,  Fayetteville,  Arkansas. 

Page,  Prof.  F.  M.,  Haverford,  Pa. 

Page,  Dr.  Curtis  Hidden,  Columbia  University,  New  York,  N.  Y. 

Palmer,  Prof.  A.  H.,  Yale  University,  New  Haven,  Conn. 

Pancoast,  Prof.  Henry  S.,  Germantown,  Pa. 

Pearce,  Dr.  J.  W.,  723  Camp  St.,  New  Orleans,  La. 

Pearson,  Prof.  C.  W.,  Beloit  College,  Beloit,  Wis. 

Pendleton,  Miss  A.  C.,  Bethany  College,  Bethany,  W.  Va. 


XXX  MODERN   LANGUAGE   ASSOCIATION. 

I 

Penn,  Mr.  H.  C.,  Columbia,  Missouri. 

Penniman,  Dr.  Josiah  H.,  University  of  Pennsylvania,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 

Perrin,  Prof.  M.  L.,  Boston  University,  Boston,  Mass. 

Perry,  Prof.  Bliss,  Princeton  University,  Princeton,  N.  J. 

Peters,  Prof.  Robert  J.,  Missouri  Valley  College,  Marshall,  Mo. 

Piatt,  Prof.  Hermann  S.,  University  of  Illinois,  Champaign,  111. 

Pietsch,  Dr.  K.,  University  of  Chicago,  Chicago,  111. 

Pinkham,  Prof.  G.  R.,  Swanton,  Vermont. 

Piutti,  Prof.  Elise,  Wells  College,  Aurora,  N.  Y. 

Plimpton,  Mr.  George  A.,  New  York,  N.  Y.     [Ginn  &  Co.] 

Poll,  Dr.  Max,  Harvard  University,  Cambridge,  Mass. 

Pollard,  Prof.  J.,  Richmond  College,  Richmond,  Va. 

Porter,  Prof.  S.,  Gallaudet  College,  Kendall  Green,  Washington,  D.  C. 

Potwin,  Prof.  L.  8.,  Adelbert  College,  Cleveland,  Ohio. 

de  Poyen-Bellisle,  Dr.  Rene",  University  of  Chicago,  Chicago,  111. 

Prettyman,  Mr.  C.  W.,  University  of  Pennsylvania,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 

Price,  Prof.  Thomas  R.,  Columbia  University,  New  York,  N.  Y.     [263  W. 

45th  St.] 

Primer,  Prof.  Sylvester,  University  of  Texas,  Austin,  Texas. 
Prince,  Prof.  J.  D.,  New  York  University,  New  York,  N.  Y.     [31  W.  38th 

St.] 

Pusey,  Prof.  Edwin  D.,  St.  John's  College,  Annapolis,  Md. 
Putzker,  Prof.  Albin,  University  of  California,  Berkeley,  Cal. 

Rambeau,  Prof.  A.,  Johns  Hopkins  University,  Baltimore,  Md. 

Ramsay,  Prof.  M.  M.,  Columbian  University,  Washington,  D.  C. 

Beeves,  Prof.  Chas.  F.,  University  of  Washington,  Seattle.     [Columbia  City, 

Washington.] 

Reeves,  Dr.  W.  P.,  University  of  Iowa,  Iowa  City,  Iowa. 
Rennert,  Prof.  H.  A.,  University  of  Pennsylvania,  Philadelphia,  Pa.     [4232 

Chestnut  St.] 

Rhoades,  Prof.  Lewis  A.,  University  of  Illinois,  Champaign,  111. 
Rice,  Prof.  H.  M.,  English  and  Classical  School,  63  Snow  St.,  Providence, 

R.I. 

Richardson,  Prof.  H.  B.,  Amherst  College,  Amherst,  Mass. 
Ringer,  Prof.  S.,  Lehigh  University,  South  Bethlehem,  Pa. 
Robertson,  Miss  Luanna,  Morgan  Park  Academy,  Morgan  Park,  111. 
Robinson,  Dr.  F.  N.,  Harvard  University,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Rocfort,  Prof.  R.,  179  South  Broad  St.,  Trenton,  N.  J. 
Roessler,  Prof.  J.  E.,  Valparaiso,  Ind. 

Ross,  Prof.  Charles  H.,  Agricultural  and  Mechanical  College,  Auburn,  Ala. 
de  Rougemont,  Prof.  A. 

Rowland,  Miss  Amy  F.,  43  W.  47th  St.,  New  York,  N.  Y. 
Roy,  Prof.  James,  Niagara  Falls,  Station  A,  N.  Y. 


PROCEEDINGS   FOR    1897.  XXxi 

Rumsey,  Miss  Olive,  Rockford  College,  Rockford,  111. 
Kuntz-Rees,  Miss  Caroline  R.,  Rosemary  Hall,  Wallingford,  Conn. 

Sampson,  Prof.   M.  W.,  University  of  Indiana,  Bloomington,  Ind. 

Saunders,  Mrs.  M.  J.  T.,  Randolph-Macon  Woman's  College,  Lynchburg,Va. 

Saunderson,  Prof.  G.  W.,  Ripon  College,  Ripon,  Wisconsin. 

Scharff,  Mr.  Paul  A.,  Western  Reserve  University,  Cleveland,  Ohio. 

Scharff,  Miss  Violette  Euge'nie,  Adelphi  College,'  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 

Schelling,  Prof.  F.  E.,  University  of  Pennsylvania,  Philadelphia,  Pa.  [4435 
Spruce  St.] 

Schilling,  Prof.  H.,  Harvard  University,  Cambridge,  Mass. 

Schmidt,  Prof.  F.  G.  G.,  University  of  Oregon,  Eugene,  Oregon. 

Schmidt-Wartenberg,  Prof.  H.,  University  of  Chicago,  Chicago,  111. 

Schofield,  Dr.  W.  H.,  Harvard  University,  Cambridge,  Mass. 

Schrakamp,  Miss  Josepha,  67  W.  38th  St.,  New  York,  N.  Y. 

Scott,  Dr.  C.  P.  G.,  708  Filbert  St.,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 

Scott,  Prof.  F.  N.,  University  of  Michigan,  Ann  Arbor,  Mich 

Scott,  Dr.  Mary  Augusta,  Smith  College,  Northampton,  Mass.  [25  Ken- 
sington Ave.] 

Sechrist,  Prof.  F.K.,  Central  State  Normal  School,  Lock  Haven,  Pa. 

Segall,  Mr.  Jacob,  Cornell  University,  Ithaca,  N.  Y. 

Semple,  Prof.  L.  B.,  Lehigh  University,  South  Bethlehem,  Pa. 

Severy,  Prof.  E.  E.,  Dixon  Academy,  Shelby ville,  Tenn. 

Seward,  Mr.  O.  P.,  477  56th  St.,  Chicago,  111. 

Seybold,  Prof.  C.  F.,  University  of  Cincinnati,  Cincinnati,  Ohio. 

Sharp,  Prof.  R.,  Tulane  University,  New  Orleans,  La. 

Shefloe,  Prof.  Joseph  S.,  Woman's  College,  Baltimore,  Md. 

Sheldon,  Prof.  E.  S.,  Harvard  University,  Cambridge,  Mass.  [27  Hulburt 
St.] 

Shepard,  Dr.  W.  P.,  Hamilton  College,  Clinton,  N.  Y. 

Sherman,  Prof.  L.  A.,  University  of  Nebraska,  Lincoln,  Neb. 

Shipley,  Dr.  George,  Baltimore,  Md. 

Shumway,  Prof.  D.  B.,  University  of  Pennsylvania,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 

Sicard,  Mr.  Ernest,  578  La  Salle  Avenue,  Chicago,  111. 

Simonds,  Prof.  W.  E.,  Knox  College,  Galesburg,  111. 

Simonton,  Prof.  J.  S.,  Washington  and  Jefferson  College,  Washington,  Pa. 

Smith,  Prof.  C.  Alphonso,  University  of  Louisiana,  Baton  Rouge,  La. 

Smith,  Dr.  Herbert  A.,  4  Mansfield  St.,  New  Haven,  Conn. 

Smith,  Dr.  Homer,  University  of  Pennsylvania,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 

Smith,  Mr.  Hugh  A.,  University  of  Missouri,  Columbia,  Mo. 

Smith,  Mr.  Justin  H.,  (Ginn  &  Co.),  7-13  Tremont  Place,  Boston,  Mass. 

Smith,  Prof.  Kirby  F.,  Johns  Hopkins  University,  Baltimore,  Md. 

Smyth,  Prof.  A.  H.,  Philadelphia  High  School,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 

Snoddy,  Prof.  J.  S.,  Woodson  Institute,  Richmond,  Missouri. 

Snow,  Prof.  Win.  B.,  English  High  School,  Montgomery  St.,  Boston,  Mass. 


XXX11  MODERN   LANGUAGE   ASSOCIATION. 

Spaeth,  Dr.  J.  D.,  1128  Spruce  St.,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 
Spanhoofd,  Prof.  K,  St.  Paul's  School,  Concord,  N.  H. 
Spencer,  Prof.  Frederic,  University  of  North  Wales,  Bangor,  Wales.  [Menai- 

Bridge.] 

Speranza,  Prof.  C.  L.,  Columbia  University,  New  York,  N.  Y. 
Spieker,  Prof.  E.  H.,  Johns  Hopkins  University,  Baltimore,  Md. 
Spofford,  Hon.  A.  R.,  Congressional  Library,  Washington,  D.  C. 
van  Steenderen,  Prof.  F.  C.  L.,  University  of  Iowa,  Iowa  City,  Iowa. 
Sterling,  Miss  Susan  A.,  811  State  St.,  Madison,  Wis. 
Stoddard,  Prof.  F.  H.,  New  York  University,  N.  Y.     [22  W.  68th  St.] 
Stratton,  Dr.  A.  W.,  University  of  Chicago,  Chicago,  111. 
Straub,  Prof.  John,  University  of  Oregon,  Eugene,  Oregon. 
Stearns,  Miss  Clara  M.,  2187  Euclid  Avenue,  Cleveland,  Ohio. 
Sweet,  Miss  Marguerite,  Stephentown,  N.  Y.  [  Vassar  College,  Poughkeepsie, 

N.Y.] 

Swiggett,  Prof.  Glen  L.,  Purdue  University,  Lafayette,  Ind. 
Sykes,  Dr.  Fred.  H.,  Philadelphia,  Pa.     [Ill  S.  15th  St.] 
Symington,  Prof.  W.  Stuart,  Jr.,  Amherst  College,  Amherst,  Mass. 

Tappan,  Dr.  Eva  March,  32  Chatham  St.,  Worcester,  Mass. 

Taylor,  Miss  Elizabeth  R.,  85  Spring  St.,  Portland,  Maine. 

Taylor,  Mr.  Robert  L.,  67  Mansfield  St.,  New  Haven,  Conn. 

Thomas,  Prof.  Calvin,  Columbia  University,  New  York,  N.  Y. 

Thomas,  President  M.  Carey,  Bryn  Mawr  College,  Bryn  Mawr,  Pa. 

Thurber,  Mr.  Edward  A.,  University  of  Wisconsin,  Madison,  Wis. 

Thurber,  Prof.  S.,  13  Westminster  Avenue,  Roxbury,  Mass. 

Todd,  Prof.  H.  A.,  Columbia  University,  New  York,  N.  Y.  [720  West  End 
Avenue.] 

Tolman,  Prof.  A.  H.,  University  of  Chicago,  Chicago,  111.  [5750  Wood- 
lawn  Ave.] 

Tombo,  Mr.  Rudolph,  Jr.,  2  Ridge  Place,  Mott  Haven,  New  York,  N.  Y. 

Toy,  Prof.  W.  D.,  University  of  North  Carolina,  Chapel  Hill,  N.  C. 

Triggs,  Dr.  Oscar  L.,  University  of  Chicago,  Chicago,  111. 

Tufts,  Prof.  J.  A.,  Phillips  Exeter* Academy,  Exeter,  N.  H. 

Tupper,  Jr.,  Prof.  Fred.,  University  of  Vermont,  Burlington,  Vt. 

Tupper,  Prof.  Jas.  W.,  Western  University,  London,  Ont.,  Canada. 

Turk,  Prof.  Milton  H.,  Hobart  College,  Geneva,  N.  Y. 

Tweedie,  Prof.  W.  M.,  Mt.  Allison  College,  Sackville,  N.  B. 

Vance,  Prof.  H.  A.,  University  of  Nashville,  Nashville,  Tenn. 

Viles,  Mr.  George  B.,  Cornell  University,  Ithaca,  N.  Y. 

Villavaso,  Mr.  Ernest  J.,  Ball  High  School,  Galveston,  Texas. 

Vogel,  Prof.  Frank,  Mass.  Institute  of  Technology,  Boston,  Mass.     [120 

Pembroke  St.] 
Vos,  Dr.  Bert  John,  Johns  Hopkins  University,  Baltimore,  Md. 


PROCEEDINGS  FOR  1897.  xxxiii 

Voss,  Prof.  Ernst,  University  of  Wisconsin,  Madison,  Wisconsin.     [1039 
University  Ave.] 

Wager,  Prof.  C.  H.  A.,  Kenyon  College,  Gambier,  Ohio. 

Wahl,  Prof.  G.  M.,  Williams  College,  Williamstown,  Mass. 

Wallis,  Mrs.  S.,  Jefferson  High  School,  Chicago,  111. 

Warren,  Prof.  F.  M.,  Adelbert  College,  Cleveland,  Ohio. 

Wauchope,  Prof.  Geo.  A.,  University  of  Iowa,  Iowa  City,  Iowa. 

Weaver,  Prof.  G.  E.  H.,  203  DeKalb  Square,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 

Weber,  Prof.  W.  L.,  Millsaps  College,  Jackson,  Miss. 

Weeks,  Mr.  L.  T.,  Southwestern  Kansas  College,  Winfield,  Kansas. 

Weeks,  Prof.  Raymond,  University  of  Missouri,  Columbia,  Mo. 

Wells,  Prof.  B.  W.,  University  of  the  South,  Sewanee,  Tenn. 

Wenckebach,  Miss  Carla,  Wellesley  College,  Wellesley,  Mass. 

Werner,  Prof.  A.,  College  of  the  City  of  New  York,  New  York,  N.  Y. 

Wernicke,  Prof.  P.,  State  College,  Lexington,  Ky. 

Wesselhoeft,  Mr.  Edward,  University  of  Pennsylvania,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 

West,  Mr.  H.  S.,  Johns  Hopkins  University,  Baltimore,  Md. 

West,  Prof.  Henry  T.,  Kenyon  College,  Gambier,  Ohio. 

White,  Prof.  H.  S.,  Cornell  University,  Ithaca,  N.  Y. 

White,  Miss  Janet  Hutchins,  High  School,  Evanston,  111. 

Whiteford,  Dr.  Robert  N.,  High  School,  Peoria,  111. 

Whitelock,  Mr.  George,  Room  708,  Fidelity  Building,  Baltimore,  Md. 

Wickham,  Miss  Margaret  M.,  Adelphi  College, Brooklyn,N.Y.  [7  Clifton  PL] 

Wiener,  Dr.  Leo,  Harvard  University,  Cambridge,  Mass.     [15  Billiard  St.] 

Wightman,  Prof.  J.  R.,  Oberlin  College,  Oberlin,  Ohio. 

Wilkens,  Dr.  Fr.  H.,  Johns  Hopkins  University,  Baltimore,  Md. 

Wilkin,  Prof.  (Mrs.)  M.  J.  C.,  University  of  Minn.,  Minneapolis,  Minn. 

Willis,  Prof.  R.  H.,  Chatham,  Va. 

Willner,  Rev.  W.,  Meridian,  Miss. 

Wilson,  Prof.  Charles  Bundy,  State  University  of  Iowa,  Iowa  City,  Iowa. 

Wilson,  Dr.  R.  H.,  Johns  Hopkins  University,  Baltimore,  Md. 

Winchester,  Prof.  C.  T.,  Wesleyan  University,  Middletown,  Conn. 

Winkler,  Dr.  Max,  University  of  Michigan,  Ann  Arbor,  Mich. 

Woldmann,  Prof.  Hermann,  Supervisor  of   German,  Public  Schools,  89 

Outhwaite  Ave.,  Cleveland,  Ohio. 

Wood,  Prof.  Francis  A.,  Cornell  College,  Mt.  Vernon,  Iowa. 
Wood,  Prof.  Henry,  Johns  Hopkins  University,  Baltimore,  Md. 
Woodbridge,  Miss  Elizabeth,  132  College  St.,  New  Haven,  Conn. 
Woodward,  Dr.  B.  D.,  Columbia  University,  New  York,  N.  Y. 
Wright,  Prof.  Arthur  S.,  Case  School  of  Applied  Science,  Cleveland,  Ohio. 
Wright,  Prof.  C.  B.,  Middlebury  College,  Middlebury,  Vt. 
Wright,  Mr.  C.  H.  C.,  16  Gay  St.,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
Wylie,  Miss  Laura  J.,  Vassar  College,  Poughkeepsie,  N.  Y. 

Zimmermann,  Dr.  G.  A.,  683  Sedgwick  St.,  Chicago,  111. 

[502] 

10 


XXXIV  MODERN   LANGUAGE  ASSOCIATION. 


LIBRARIES 

SUBSCRIBING  FOR  THE  PUBLICATIONS  OF  THE 
ASSOCIATION. 


Albany,  N.  Y. :  New  York  State  Library. 

Aurora,  N.  Y. :  Wells  College  Library. 

Austin,  Texas  :  University  of  Texas  Library. 

Baltimore,  Md. :  Enoch  Pratt  Free  Library. 

Baltimore,  Md. :  Johns  Hopkins  University  Library. 

Baltimore,  Md. :  Library  of  the  Peabody  Institute. 

Baltimore,  Md. :  Woman's  College  Library. 

Berkeley,  Cal. :  Library  of  the  University  of  California. 

Boston,  Mass. :  Public  Library  of  the  City  of  Boston. 

Bryn  Mawr,  Pa. :  Bryn  Mawr  College  Library. 

Buffalo,  N.  Y. :  The  Buffalo  Library. 

Burlington,  Vt. :  Library  of  the  University  of  Vermont. 

Cambridge,  Mass.  :  Harvard  University  Library. 

Charlottesville,  Va. :  Library  of  the  University  of  Virginia. 

Chicago,  111. :  The  Newberry  Library. 

Chicago,  111. :  The  General  Library  of  the  University  of  Chicago. 

Cleveland,  Ohio:  Adelbert  College  Library. 

Decorah,  Iowa  :  Luther  College  Library. 

Detroit,  Mich. :  The  Public  Library. 

Easton,  Pa.  :  Lafayette  College  Library. 

Evanstown,  111. :  Northwestern  University  Library. 

Ithaca,  N.  Y. :  Cornell  University  Library. 

Knoxville,  Tenn. :  University  of  Tennessee  Library. 

Lincoln,  Neb. :  State  University  of  Nebraska  Library. 

Madison,  Wis. :  University  of  Wisconsin  Library. 

Middlebury,  Vt. :  Middlebury  College  Library. 

Middletown,  Conn. :  Wesleyan  University  Library. 

Minneapolis,  Minn. :  University  of  Minnesota  Library. 

Nashville,  Tenn.:  Vanderbilt  University  Library. 


PROCEEDINGS   FOB    1897.  XXXV 

New  Haven,  Conn.:  Yale  University  Library. 

New  Orleans,  La.:  Library  of  the  H.  Sophie  Newcomb  Memorial  College. 

[1220  Washington  Ave.] 
New  York,  N.  Y.:  The  New  York  Public  Library  (Astor,  Lenox,  and  Tilden 

Foundations).     [40  Lafayette  Place.] 
New  York,  N.  Y.:  Columbia  University  Library. 
Oberlin,  Ohio:  Oberlin  College  Library. 
Paris,  France:  Bibliotheque  de  PUniversite*  a.  la  Sorbonne. 
Peoria,  111.:  Peoria  Public  Library. 
Philadelphia,  Pa.:  University  of  Pennsylvania  Library. 
Poughkeepsie,  N.  Y.:  Vassar  College  Library. 
Princeton,  N.  J. :    Library  of    Princeton   University.      [Prof.  James  O. 

Murray.] 

Providence,  E.  I. :  Providence  Public  Library.     [32  Snow  St.] 
Rochester,  N.  Y. :  Library  of  the  University  of  Rochester.     [Prince  St.] 
Seattle,  Wash. :  University  of  Washington  Library. 
South  Bethlehem,  Pa.:  Lehigh  University  Library. 
Springfield,  Ohio :  Wittenberg  College  Library. 
Wake  Forest,  N.  C.:  Wake  Forest  College  Library. 
Washington,  D.  C.:    Library  of  Supreme  Council  of  33d  Degree.     [433 

Third  Street,  N.  W.J 

Wellesley,  Mass. :   Wellesley  College  Reading  Room  Library. 
West  Point,  N.  Y. :  Library  of  the  U.  S.  Military  Academy. 
Williamstown,  Mass. :   Williams  College  Library. 
Worcester,  Mass. :  Free  Public  Library. 

[50] 


XXXVI  MODERN    LANGUAGE    ASSOCIATION. 


HONORARY  MEMBERS. 


GRAZIADO  I.  ASCOLI,  Milan,  Italy. 
K.  VON  BAHDER,  University  of  Leipsic. 
ALOIS  L.  BRANDL,  University  of  Berlin. 
HENRY  BRADLEY,  Oxford,  England. 
W.  BRAUNE,  University  of  Heidelberg. 
SOPHUS  BUGGE,  University  of  Christiania. 
KONRAD  BURDACH,  University  of  Halle. 
WENDELIN  FORSTER,  University  of  Bonn. 
GUSTAV  GROBER,  University  of  Strassburg. 
B.  P.  HASDEU,  University  of  Bucharest. 
RICHARD  HEINZEL,  University  of  Vienna. 
FR.  KLUGE,  University  of  Freiburg. 
EUGENE  KOLBING,  University  of  Breslau. 
PAUL  MEYER,  College  de  France. 
W.  MEYEB-LUBKE,  University  of  Vienna. 
JAMES  A.  H.  MURRAY,  Oxford,  England. 
ARTHUR  NAPIER,  University  of  Oxford. 
FRITZ  NEUMANN,  University  of  Heidelberg. 
ADOLF  NOREEN,  University  of  Upsala. 
GASTON  PARIS,  College  de  France. 
H.  PAUL,  University  of  Munich. 
F.  YORK  POWELL,  University  of  Oxford. 
Pio  RAJNA,  Florence,  Italy. 
J.  SCHIPPER,  University  of  Vienna. 
H.  SCHUCHART,  University  of  Graz. 
ERICH  SCHMIDT,  University  of  Berlin. 
EDUARD  SIEVERS,  University  of  Leipsic. 
W.  W.  SKEAT,  University  of  Cambridge. 
JOHANN  STORM,  University  of  Christiania. 
H.  SUCHIER,  University  of  Halle. 
HENRY  SWEET,  Oxford,  England. 
ADOLF  TOBLER,  University  of  Berlin. 
KARL  WEINHOLD,  University  of  Berlin. 
RICH.  PAUL  WULKER,  University  of  Leipsic. 


PROCEEDINGS  FOB  1897.          XXXVU 


ROLL  OF  MEMBERS  DECEASED. 


T.  WHITING  BANCROFT,  Brown  University,  Providence,  E.  I.     [1890.] 

WILLIAM  COOK,  Harvard  University,  Cambridge,  Mass.     [1888.] 

EDWARD  GRAHAM  DAVES,  Baltimore,  Md.     [1894.] 

FRANCIS  R.  FAVA,  Columbian  University,  Washington,  D.  C.     [1896.] 

L.  HABEL,  Norwich  University,  Northfield,  Vermont.     [1886.] 

RUDOLPH  HILDEBRAND,  Leipsic,  Germany.     [1894.] 

J.  KARGE,  Princeton  College,  Princeton,  N.  J.     [1892.] 

F.  L.  KENDALL,  Williams  College,  Williamstown,  Mass.     [1893.] 

J.  LEVY,  Lexington,  Mass. 

JULES  LOISEAU,  New  York,  N.  Y. 

JAMES  RUSSELL  LOWELL,  Cambridge,  Mass.     [1891.] 

THOMAS  McCABE,  Bryn  Mawr  College,  Bryn  Mawr,  Pa.     [1891.] 

JOHN  G.  R.  MCELROY,  University  of  Pennsylvania,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 

[1891.] 

EDWARD  T.  MCLAUGHLIN,  Yale  University,  New  Haven,  Conn.     [1893.] 
C.  K.  NELSON,  Brookville,  Md. 
W.  M.  NEVIN,  Lancaster,  Pa. 

C.  P.  OTIS,  Mass.  Inst.  of  Technology,  Boston,  Mass.     [1888.] 
W.  H.  PERKINSON,  University  of  Virginia,  Charlottesville,  Va.     [1898.] 
O.  SEIDENSTICKER,  University  of  Pennsylvania,  Philadelphia,  Pa.    [1894.] 
M.  SCHELE  DE  VERB,  University  of  Virginia,  Charlottesville,  Va.     [1898.] 
MAX  SOHRAUER,  New  York,  N.  Y. 
F.  R.  STENGEL,  Columbia  College,  New  York,  N.  Y. 
H.  TALLICHET,  Austin,  Texas. 

E.  L.  WALTER,  University  of  Michigan,  Ann  Arbor,  Mich.     [1898.] 
Miss  HELENS  WENCKEBACH,  Wellesley  College,  Wellesley,  Mass.     [1888.] 
CASIMIR  ZDANOWICZ,  Vanderbilt  University,  Nashville,  Tenn.     [1889.] 
JULIUS  ZUPITZA,  Berlin,  Germany.     [1895.] 


XXXV111  MODERN  LANGUAGE    ASSOCIATION. 


CONSTITUTION  OF  THE  MODERN  LANGUAGE 
ASSOCIATION  OF  AMERICA. 


The  name  of  this  Society  shall  be  The  Modern  Language 
Association  of  America. 

II. 

Any  person  approved  by  the  Executive  Council  may  become 
a  member  by  the  payment  of  three  dollars,  and  may  continue  a 
member  by  the  payment  of  the  same  amount  each  year. 

in. 

The  object  of  this  Association  shall  be  the  advancement  of 
the  study  of  the  Modern  Languages  and  their  Literatures. 

IV. 

The  officers  of  this  Association  shall  be  a  President,  a  Secre- 
tary, a  Treasurer,  and  nine  members,  who  shall  together  consti- 
tute the  Executive  Council,  and  these  shall  be  elected  annually 
by  the  Association. 

V. 

The  Executive  Council  shall  have  charge  of  the  general 
interests  of  the  Association,  such  as  the  election  of  members, 
calling  of  meetings,  selection  of  papers  to  be  read,  and  the 
determination  of  what  papers  shall  be  published. 

VI. 

This  Constitution  may  be  amended  by  a  two-thirds  vote  at 
any  annual  meeting,  provided  the  proposed  amendment  has 
received  the  approval  of  the  Executive  Council. 


PEOCEEDINGS   FOB   1897.  XXXIX 


Amendment   adopted  by  the  Baltimore   Convention, 
December  3O,  1886: 

1.  The  Executive  Council  shall  annually  elect  from  its  own 
body  three  members,  who,  with  the  President  and  Secretary, 
shall  constitute  the  Executive  Commiltee  of  the  Association. 

2.  The  three  members  thus  elected   shall    be   the  Vice- 
Presidents  of  the  Association. 

3.  To  this  Executive  Committee  shall  be  submitted,  through 
the  Secretary,  at  least  one  month  in  advance  of  meeting,  all 
papers  designed  for  the  Association.     The  said  Committee,  or 
a  majority  thereof,  shall  have  power  to  accept  or  reject  such 
papers,  and  also  of  the  papers  thus  accepted,  to  designate 
such  as  shall  be  read  in  full,  and  such  as  shall  be  read  in 
brief,  or  by  topics,  for  subsequent  publication  ;  and  to  pre- 
scribe a  programme  of  proceedings,  fixing  the  time  to  be 
allowed  for  each  paper  and  for  its  discussion. 


APPENDIX  II. 


PROCEEDINGS  OF  THE  THIRD  ANNUAL  MEETING 

OF  THE  CENTRAL  DIVISION  OF  THE  MODERN 

LANGUAGE   ASSOCIATION   OF   AMERICA, 

HELD     AT     EVANSTON,     ILL.,     DE- 
CEMBER 30,  31,  1897,  AND 
JANUARY  1,  1898. 


V'L' 


THE  CENTRAL  DIVISION  OF  THE 
MODERN  LANGUAGE  ASSO- 
CIATION OF  AMERICA. 


The  third  annual  meeting  of  the  CENTRAL  DIVISION  OF 
THE  MODERN  LANGUAGE  ASSOCIATION  OF  AMERICA  was 
held  at  the  Northwestern  University,  Evanston,  111.,  Decem- 
ber 30,  31,  1897,  and  January  1,  1898. 

FIRST   SESSION,  DECEMBER  30. 

On  Thursday  evening,  December  30,  the  convention  was 
called  to  order  in  the  Assembly  Hall  of  the  Orrington  Lunt 
Library  by  Professor  E.  P.  Baillot,  of  the  Northwestern 
University.  The  speaker  regretted  the  absence  of  President 
Henry  Wade  Rogers,  who  was  unexpectedly  detained  in  the 
East,  and  introduced,  as  the  representative  of  the  University 
Authorities  and  the  Faculty,  Professor  G.  A.  Coe.  After 
words  of  welcome,  Professor  Coe  invited  the  Association  to 
inspect  the  collection  of  German  books  which  had  recently 
been  added  to  the  library  of  the  Northwestern  University 
through  the  munificence  of  a  number  of  Germans  of  the  city 
of  Chicago. 

The  Hon.  William  Andrew  Dyche,  Mayor  of  Evanston, 
then  addressed  the  audience,  welcoming  them  on  behalf  of  the 
citizens.  Professor  W.  H.  Carruth,  President  of  the  Central 
Division,  returned  the  thanks  of  the  members  for  the  words 
spoken. 

xliii 


xliv  MODERN    LANGUAGE    ASSOCIATION. 

The  first  paper  of  the  convention  was  then  presented. 

1.    "  Methods  of  studying  English  masterpieces."     By  Pro- 
fessor J.  Scott  Clark,  of  the  Northwestern  University. 

Assuming  the  practical  value  of  studying  masterpieces  as  an  aid  in  ac- 
quiring the  art  of  English  Composition,  we  ask  first,  what  methods  of  study 
are  or  have  been  in  use,  and  what  are  their  fruits?  The  objection  to  the 
method  that  has  been  most  widely  used  lies  in  the  fact  that  it  is  not  really 
a  study  of  the  masterpiece  but  merely  a  study  of  what  some  one  has  written 
about  the  masterpiece.  It  consists  in  cramming  the  pupil's  mind  with  minute 
biographical  data  and  the  abstractions  of  criticism — often  quite  meaningless 
to  the  pupil  in  the  absence  of  illustrative  quotations.  This  method  was 
formerly  followed  in  studying  the  physical  sciences.  The  student  did  not 
study  oxygen,  or  electricity,  or  protoplasm.  He  studied  what  some  one  had 
written  about  the  elements,  and,  if  fortunate,  saw  the  instructor  manipulate 
the  elements  at  a  safe  distance.  This  method,  though  utterly  fruitless,  is 
still  widely  followed  in  teaching  English  Literature  The  second  method, 
and  the  one  now  prevalent  in  most  of  our  leading  schools  and  colleges  may 
be  defined  as  the  use  of  annotated  editions.  It  is  what  Prof.  Genung  calls 
"disciplinary  reading,"  and  it  is  supposed  to  aid  the  pupil  to  invent.  But 
it  may  fairly  be  doubted  whether  what  the  rhetoricians  call  "invention" 
ever  is  or  can  be  taught  in  the  class-room.  The  influences  that  develop 
invention  are  too  subtle  and  universal  ever  to  be  catalogued  or  made  avail- 
able on  demand.  During  the  last  twenty  years  this  country  has  been  flooded 
with  these  annotated  editions.  The  fact  that  hundreds  of  newly-fledged 
Doctors  of  Philosophy  have  found  in  the  preparation  of  such  editions  a 
convenient  means  of  exhibiting  to  the  educational  world  evidences  of  their 
newly-found  learning,  has  caused  the  supply  to  be  excessive.  Moreover, 
the  temptation  to  lug  in  all  sorts  of  irrelevant  matter  into  the  *'  notes  "  has 
been  irresistible.  The  universe  has  been  ransacked  by  these  industrious 
young  editors  to  find  anything  having  even  the  remotest  reference  to  the 
subject  matter.  These  "notes"  consist  mainly  of  the  exposition  of  historical, 
geographical,  or  literary  references,  the  definition  of  words  used  in  the  text, 
and  the  quotation  of  parallel  passages  from  other  eminent  authors.  To 
these  are  added  ingenious  surmises  as  to  the  probable  reason  of  the  author 
under  consideration  for  using  the  existing  verbal  forms  or  as  to  the  way  in 
which  the  author's  thought  was  probably  suggested, — ingenious  and  often 
interesting  surmises ;  but  one  may  fairly  ask,  what  has  all  this  to  do  with 
that  development  of  the  pupil's  vocabulary  and  style  that  he  ought  to  obtain 
from  the  study  of  a  masterpiece?  At  least  two-thirds  of  these  notes  are 
really  crutches,  doing  for  the  pupil  what  he  ought  early  to  have  acquired 
the  habit  of  doing  for  himself.  So,  while  we  admit  that  the  use  of  annotated 
editions  has  some  value,  we  must  reject  it  as  almost  entirely  fruitless  in  the 
direction  most  desired. 


PROCEEDINGS    FOR    1897.  xlv 

Before  suggesting  a  more  fruitful  method,  let  us  ask  what  results  a  student 
ought  fairly  to  expect  and  to  obtain  from  the  study  of  a  masterpiece.  1'  irst, 
he  should  enlarge  his  own  vocabulary.  The  number  of  words  used  even  by 
"educated"  men  is  astonishingly  small.  Second,  he  should  gain  by  his 
study  increased  accuracy  and  delicacy  in  the  use  of  words.  Third,  he  should 
gain,  by  direct  observation,  a  conception  of  the  value  of  an  Anglo-Saxon 
diction  stronger  than  he  can  ever  obtain  from  mere  statistics.  He  should 
observe  the  effect  of  Latinizing  the  diction  of  a  tine  passage.  Fourth,  the 
young  writer  should  obtain  from  his  study  of  a  masterpiece  an  enlarged 
conception  of  the  value  of  idiomatic  diction,  observing  the  effect  of  sub- 
stituting more  formal  expressions  for  idioms.  Fifth,  he  should  gain,  by 
direct  observation,  a  keen  appreciation  of  the  value  of  rhetorical  imagery 
when  wisely  used.  He  must  note  the  flavor  given  to  a  masterpiece  by  the 
prevalence,  the  sparsity  or  the  peculiar  use  of  rhetorical  figures,  testing  by 
reducing  figurative  to  bald  expression  and  the  reverse.  Sixth,  he  should 
learn,  by  direct  observation,  the  relative  values  of  loose  and  periodic  struct- 
ure. Seventh,  he  should  discover  the  peculiar  value  of  epigram,  balance, 
and  point,  noting  carefully  the  dangers  and  the  limitations  of  this  quality 
of  style.  Eighth,  the  student  should  learn  from  his  use  of  a  masterpiece 
the  value  of  smoothness — unity,  that  essential  element  of  any  good  style, 
which  the  young  writer  is  always  so  very  slow  to  acquire.  Ninth,  he  must 
learn,  by  direct  observation,  the  value  of  simplicity  in  both  diction  and  con- 
struction. Tenth,  he  must  discover  something  of  the  nature  of  that  subtle, 
almost  indefinable  quality  that  we  call  rhythm — that  element  that  forms  so 
large  a  part  in  all  true  eloquence.  Finally,  above  and  beyond  these,  which 
may  be  called  the  mechanics  of  style,  the  pupil  must  discover  the  soul  of 
the  master- writer  in  his  pages.  It  is  doubtful  whether  the  teacher  of  criti- 
cism has  ever  been  furnished  with  a  better  text  for  his  work  than  the  one 
given  by  that  prince  of  critics,  Leslie  Stephen,  when  he  says :  "  The  whole 
art  of  criticism  consists  in  learning  to  know  the  human  being  who  is  partially 
revealed  to  us  in  his  written  and  spoken  words."  A  consensus  of  the  best 
critical  opinion  assigns  at  least  twenty-six  prose  writers  and  at  least  twenty 
poets  to  the  first  rank  in  Fnglish  and  American  literature.  If  the  student 
have  studied  the  works  of  these  writers  after  a  wise  method,  he  should  be 
able  to  determine  any  one  of  them  by  the  style  alone.  That  such  a  test  is 
not  impossible,  the  writer  of  this  paper  has  proved  with  his  own  classes  for 
years.  Taking  from  the  authors  studied  during  a  given  term  several  para- 
graphs so  selected  as  to  give  no  hint  of  their  authorship  through  the 
subject  matter,  seventy-five  per  cent,  of  an  ordinary  class  of  college  Juniors 
will  recognize  every  author,  and  will  give  clear  reasons  for  the  recognition 
in  every  case.  The  method  proposed  for  attaining  the  results  already  named 
is,  in  briefest  outline,  as  follows : 

Let  every  member  of  a  class  be  provided  with  a  syllabus  carefully  de- 
fining the  ten  general  points,  i.  e.,  rare  words,  accurate  use,  Anglo  Saxon 
diction,  idiom,  imagery,  suspense,  point,  unity,  simplicity,  and  rhythm,  and 


xlvi  MODERN    LANGUAGE   ASSOCIATION. 

defining  also  the  distinguishing  characteristics  of  every  author  to  be  studied. 
Let  the  pupil  be  provided  also  with  at  least  forty  pages  of  some  work  of 
the  author  under  consideration,  varying  the  sections  assigned  to  the  several 
members  of  a  class  so  far  as  possible.  This,  which  is  really  laboratory 
material,  may  be  obtained  in  fairly  satisfactory  shape  in  the  various  very 
cheap  editions  of  standard  authors  such  as  those  of  Cassell,  Maynard,  and 
others.  A  more  satisfactory  plan  of  providing  laboratory  material  is  to 
buy  the  works  of  all  authors  to  be  studied  in  sufficient  quantity  to  allow  at 
least  forty  pages  to  every  pupil,  and  then  to  cut  these  books  into  sections 
and  rebind  the  sections  in  groups  containing  one  section  from  every  author. 
The  pupil  prepares  a  written  report  for  the  class-room  according  to  the 
following  directions : — 

Read  your  section  carefully  and  note  every  word  not  in  common  conver- 
sational use.  Copy  on  your  report  at  least  ten  of  these  rare  words,  selecting 
such  as  do  not  already  belong  to  your  own  vocabulary.  Note  also  all  cases 
of  especial  accuracy  or  delicacy  in  the  use  of  words,  and  copy  in  your  report 
the  best  five  cases.  Determine,  approximately,  the  percentage  of  Anglo- 
Saxon  words  used  by  the  author  by  counting  the  entire  number  of  words 
on  any  full  page,  then  counting  on  the  same  page  the  number  of  obviously 
non-classical  words,  taking  the  first  sum  for  a  numerator  and  the  second  for 
a  denominator,  and  reducing  the  fraction"  thus  obtained  to  decimal  form. 
Note  every  clear  case  of  idiom,  and  copy  in  your  report  the  best  five  cases. 
Note  every  case  of  point,  suspense,  unity,  simplicity,  chaste  imagery,  and 
rhythm,  and  index,  in  your  class  report,  the  pages  and  lines  containing  the 
best  five  cases  of  each.  Now  review  your  section,  and  discover  the  best 
illustrations  of  each  of  the  author's  distinguishing  characteristics,  and  index 
in  your  class  report  the  pages  and  lines  where  such  illustrations  are  found. 
Every  one  of  the  illustrations  of  both  general  and  particular  points  is  to  be 
recorded  or  indexed  after  a  consecutive  number.  Finally,  observe  and  copy 
in  your  class  report  the  best  short  quotable  passages  or  expressions  to  be 
found  in  your  section.  This  amount  of  work  will  be  found  equal  to  a 
requirement  of  two  or  three  recitations  by  an  ordinary  college  class.  Of 
course,  the  number  of  illustrations  called  for  is  arbitrary  and  the  amount 
of  time  devoted  to  a  given  author  may  be  widely  varied  according  to  cir- 
cumstances. Ten  years  of  continuous  use  of  the  method  in  the  writer's  class- 
room have  proved  that  it  does  secure  in  a  fair  degree  the  results  named 
above  as  desirable,  while  it  accomplishes  a  still  more  valuable  result  in  that 
it  develops  an  appetite  for  the  best  literature  and  the  habit  of  reading 
intelligently  and  critically  in  the  best  sense  of  the  term  critical. 

The  discussion  of  this  paper  was  contributed  by  Professors 
J.  D.  Bruner,  A.  H.  Tolman,  S.  W.  Cutting,  J.  S.  Nollen. 

Before  adjourning  the  Secretary  made  some  announcements 
concerning  the  sessions  of  the  following  day.  The  members 


PROCEEDINGS   FOR    1897.  xlvtt 

then  attended  an  informal  reception  tendered  them  by  the 
University  Guild. 

SECOND    SESSION,   DECEMBEK   31. 

The  Second  Session  was  called  to  order  by  President  W.  H. 
Carruth,  in  the  Assembly  Hall  of  the  Library  Building,  at 
9.15  a.  m. 

The  Secretary  presented  his  annual  report : 

The  Secretary  of  the  Central  Division  of  the  Modern  Language  Associa- 
tion of  America,  begs  to  submit  as  the  main  part  of  his  annual  report  the 
printed  Proceedings  of  the  last  Annual  Meeting,  contained  in  Vol.  XII  of 
the  Publications  of  the  Modern  Language  Association  of  America,  pp.  XLV- 
LXIV.  Special  attention  is  called  again  to  the  statements  made  therein 
concerning  membership  in  the  Central  Division. 

The  following  members  have  been  added  to  the  list  of  membership  during 
the  past  year : 

Professor  C.  W.  Benton,  University  of  Minnesota,  Minneapolis,  Minn. 

MissThekla  Bernays,  3623  Laclede  Ave.,  St.  Louis,  Mo. 

Miss  Clara  Conklin,  Professor,  University  of  Nebraska,  Lincoln,  Neb. 

Professor  J.  Scott  Clark,  Northwestern  University,  Evanston,  111. 

Miss  Marie  Dehnst,  Monticello  Seminary,  Godfrey,  111. 

Mrs.  Abbie  F.  Eaton,  338  57th  St.,  Chicago,  111. 

Mrs.  M  Eliel,  Hyde  Park  High  School,  Chicago,  111. 

Professor  B.  F.  Hoffman,  University  of  Missouri,  Columbia,  Mo. 

Miss  Sarah  D.  Hutch inson,  Iowa  City,  la. 

Professor  Albert  E.  Jack,  Lake  Forest  University,  Lake  Forest,  111. 

Mr.  C.  H.  Kamman,  Peoria  High  School,  Peoria,  111. 

Mr.  F.  J.  Lange,  Elgin  High  School,  Elgin,  111. 

Professor  Alexis   F.  Lange,  University  of  California,  Berkeley,  Cal. 

Miss  Mary  W.  Mills,  Webster  Groves,  Mo. 

Mr.  E.  P.  Morton,  Instructor,  Univ.  of  Indiana,  Bloomington,  Ind. 

Mr.  J.  S.  Snoddy,  Instructor,  Univ.  of  Nebraska,  Lincoln,  Neb. 

Mr.  E.  Villavoso,  Ball  High  School,  Galveston,  Tex. 

Mrs.  S.  Wallis,  Jefferson  High  School,  Chicago,  111. 

Professor  G.  A.  Wauchope,  University  of  Iowa,  Iowa  City,  la. 

Mrs.  M.  J.  C.  Wilkin,  Ass't  Professor,  Univ.  of  Minn.,  Minneapolis,  Minn. 

It  is  gratifying  to  see  that  from  five  of  the  leading  Institutions  of  the 
West  and  the  South,  invitations  have  been  extended  to  the  Central  Division 
for  the  meeting  of  the  coming  year,  viz. :  Vanderbilt  University,  Leland 


xlviii  MODERN   LANGUAGE   ASSOCIATION. 

Stanford  Jr.  University,  Tulane  University,  and  the  State  Universities  of 
Wisconsin  and  Illinois. 

The  Secretary  wishes  to  make  public  acknowledgment  of  the  friendly 
cooperation  of  the  officers  of  the  Modern  Language  Association,  whose 
services  have  contributed  much  to  promote  a  healthy  growth  of  the  Central 
Division,  and  to  reduce  the  burden  of  official  correspondence. 

The  following  report  for  the  year  1897  was  submitted  by 
the  Treasurer  of  the  Central  Division  : 

Eeport  of  the  Treasurer  of  the  Central  Division  of  the  Modern  Language 
Association  for  the  year  1897 : 

RECEIPTS. 

Balance  on  hand,  transferred  by  Prof.  J.  P.  Fruit,     .         .     $27  90 

Twenty-six  membership  fees, 78  00 

From  the  Treasurer  of  the  M.  L.  A.,        .        .        .        .      42  00 

Total  receipts  for  the  year, $147  90 

EXPENDITUKES. 

Printing  of  Programmes,          .        .        .        .         .         .  $33  00 

Stationery,  telegrams, 5  90 

Stamps, 16  00 

Paid  to  the  Treasurer  of  the  M.  L.  A., 

March  4, 63  85 

"10, 5  15 

June  3, 15  00 

Dec.  6, 9  00 

Total  expenditures  for  the  year,    .        .        .        .  $147  90 
Respectfully  submitted, 

H.  SCHMIDT- WARTENBEKG, 

Treasurer. 

The  report  was  accepted.  The  President  appointed  Dr.  P. 
O.  Kern  and  Mr.  F.  J.  Lange  as  a  committee  to  audit  the 
above  report. 

Professor  S.  W.  Cutting,  chairman  of  the  Committee  on 
Entrance  Requirements  in  Modern  Languages,  reported  prog- 
ress of  the  work  undertaken  by  the  Modern  Language  Asso- 


PROCEEDINGS    FOR    1897.  xlix 

ciation.  The  Secretary  of  the  Phonetic  Section  of  the  Modern 
Language  Association,  Professor  G.  Herapl,  read  his  annual 
report  which  was  presented  also  at  the  Eastern  Meeting. 
Both  these  reports  were  accepted. 

Dr.  de  Poyen-Bellisle  discussed  some  questions  pertaining 
to  the  management  of  the  Central  Division.  At  the  suggestion 
of  the  presiding  officer  the  speaker  formulated  his  request  in  the 
following  two  recommendations :  (1)  that  the  Executive  Com- 
mittee be  chosen  from  the  three  departments,  viz.,  the  English, 
the  Romanic,  and  the  Germanic;  and  (2)  that  the  secretaryship 
rotate  among  these  departments.  As  the  discussion  following, 
in  which  Professors  A.  H.  Tolman,  Henry  Cohn,  C.  W. 
Pearson  (Beloit  College),  J.  D.  Bruner,  G.  Hempl,  W.  H. 
Carruth  and  the  Secretary  participated,  showed  the  probability 
of  a  negative  vote,  no  motion  was  made. 

The  President  requested  the  Association  to  appoint  the  Com- 
mittee to  nominate  officers.  Professor  L.  A.  Rhoades  made 
the  motion  that  the  following  constitute  such  a  Committee : 
Professors  J.  D.  Bruner,  G.  Hempl,  and  W.  H.  Carruth  ;  this 
motion  was  carried. 

It  was  moved  that  the  chair  appoint  a  Committee  on  Place 
of  Meeting.  The  Chairman  invited  the  second  Vice-President, 
Professor  C.  W.  Benton,  to  occupy  the  chair.  Professor  W. 
H.  Carruth  then  expressed  himself  as  to  the  desirability  of 
joint  action  with  other  societies  in  the  West,  in  order  to  secure 
reduced  railroad  rates.  The  Secretary  commented  on  the  very 
small  number  of  such  associations,  one  of  them  being  strictly 
local.  Professor  W.  H.  Carruth  moved  that  the  Committee 
on  Place  of  Meeting  constitute  part  of  a  general  committee  to 
be  made  up  of  different  societies  of  similar  character.  Professor 
F.  A.  Blackburn  moved  that  the  question  of  place  and  time 
be  referred  to  the  Executive  Committee;  this  motion  was 
adopted.  On  motion  of  Professor  W.  H.  Carruth  the  Secre- 
tary was  directed  to  notify  the  Associations  of  our  desire  to  co- 
operate with  them. 
11 


1  MODERN   LANGUAGE    ASSOCIATION. 

Professor  J.  D.  Bruner  then  spoke  advising  a  joint  meeting 
with  the  Modern  Language  Association,  in  the  near  future. 
Professor  S.  W.  Cutting  and  Professor  J.  S.  Nollen  also 
expressed  themselves  in  favor  of  it.  No  action  was  taken. 

The  reading  of  papers  was  then  taken  up. 

2.  "Thomas  Murner's  prose  writings  of  the  year  1520." 
By  Professor  Ernst  Yoss,  of  the  University  of  Wisconsin. 

The  paper,  which  was  discussed  by  Professor  S.  W.  Cutting, 
will  be  printed  in  the  Journal  of  Germanic  Philology. 

3.  "  The  autobiographical  elements  in  William  Langland's 
Piers  the  Plowman"     By  Professor  Albert  E.  Jack,  of  Lake 
Forest  University. 

Remarks  were  offered  by  Professors  F.  A.  Blackburn,  and 
C.  W.  Pearson  (Northwestern  University). 

That  the  poem  is  autobiographical  has  been  the  unanimous  opinion  of 
English  scholars,  only  two,  Wright  and  Morley,  have  dissented  on  two  or 
three  minor  details.  However,  there  are  many  plausible  reasons  for  think- 
ing that  the  traditional  view  of  the  poem  on  this  point  is  quite  incorrect. 
The  dreams  cannot  certainly  be  thought  of  as  real,  and  very  probably  also 
the  wanderings  are  but  a  part  of  the  conventional  framework  of  the  poem. 
Nor  must  we  think  of  the  poet  as  an  idle  fellow,  sometimes  begging  and 
sometimes  singing  masses  for  hire,  as  he  makes  his  William  do  ;  for  in  that 
case  he  practised  those  very  things  against  which  he  uttered  his  severest 
denunciation.  Nor  can  we  be  certain  of  his  wife's  name,  his  residence, 
occupation,  age,  and  other  minor  personal  details.  The  poem  probably 
gives  the  spiritual  life  of  its  author,  but  not  his  outer  life. 

4.  "On  the  development  of  Roots  and  their  meanings." 
By  Professor  F.  A.  Wood,  of  Cornell  College.     [Printed  in 
The  American  Journal  of  Philology,  xix,  40  f.] 

THIRD    SESSION. 

The  President  called  the  meeting  to  order  at  2.30  p.  m. 

5.  "  One  phase  of  Keats's  treatment  of  nature."     By  Mr. 
Edward  P.  Morton,  of  the  University  of  Indiana. 

When  I  speak  of  Keats's  treatment  of  nature,  I  do  not  mean  by  "  nature" 
what  Pope  or  Dante  or  Aristotle  meant,  but  use  the  word  always  in  its 


PROCEEDINGS    FOR    1897.  H 

modern  application  to  the  external  phenomena  of  nature,  without  reference 
to  their  causes ;  in  short,  to  what  we  see  of  sky,  of  stream,  of  hill  and  plain, 
of  woods  and  flowers,  and  of  animal  and  insect  life. 

A  good  many  of  Keats's  habits  of  mind  and  expression  group  themselves 
naturally  under  well  known  heads.  But  there  are  in  Keats's  poems  a  large 
number  of  cases  which  do  not  come  under  any  established  classification. 
For  example,  although  1  found  in  10,000  lines.of  Keats  (all  but  the  dramas) 
188  personifications,  I  also  found  357  cases  where  sentiency  only  was  ascribed 
to  insentient  objects.  My  purpose  in  this  paper  is  to  show  that  we  can  and 
do  ascribe  sentiency  to  insentient  objects  without  personifying,  and  that 
such  cases  are  numerous  enough  to  justify  their  separate  classification. 

When  we  say  that  the  wind  howls,  or  shrieks,  or  whistles,  or  moans,  or 
that  the  brook  babbles  or  murmurs,  we  speak  of  winds  and  brooks  in  terms 
that  imply  sentiency,  but  we  have  not  thus  far  personified  them.  We  think 
of  shrieking  winds  and  babbling  brooks  as  winds  and  brooks,  and  not  as 
persons. 

We  may  go  a  step  beyond  mere  imitation  of  sounds  and  motions,  how- 
ever, for  we  find  that  certain  physical  aspects  of  nature  are  like  certain 
human  moods,  and  that  these  resemblances  are  expressed  in  human  terms. 
For  example,  hard  rock  is  often  called  stubborn;  but  we  think  of  the  rock 
as  stubborn  rock  and  not  as  a  stubborn  person ;  in  short,  even  if  we  grant 
that  the  idea  of  personality  is  inseparably  involved  in  such  words  as  stub- 
born, modest,  and  proud,  we  lay  the  emphasis  upon  the  trait  and  not  upon 
the  personality. 

We  are  so  used  to  personifying  nature,  that  perhaps  an  illustration,  not 
from  poetry,  but  from  burlesque,  will  make  my  point  more  clear.  An 
American  comic  writer  tells  us  that  he  once  smoked  "  the  ablest  tobacco  he 
could  find."  Surely  there  is  not  a  trace  of  personification  in  this  grotesque- 
ness,  and  yet  the  man  has  applied  to  his  tobacco  a  word  commonly  used  of 
people ;  that  is,  he  has  ascribed  sentiency  to  an  insentient  object  without 
personifying  it. 

It  is  quite  possible,  therefore,  to  describe  nature  in  terms  of  man  without 
distinctly  personifying  nature;  it  is  possible  in  some  cases  to  predicate 
sentiency  only,  and  in  others  to  lay  the  stress  upon  the  trait  and  leave  the 
idea  of  person  unobtrusive. 

This  ascription  of  sentiency,  which  is  really  only  a  matter  of  rhetoric,  of 
technique,  has  already  been  noticed  and  named  by  at  least  two  men,  Ruskin, 
in  his  "  Pathetic  Fallacy,"  and  E.  A.  Abbott,  in  his  Shakespearian  Grammar, 
under  the  caption  "  Personal  Metaphor." 

Mr.  Ruskin's  term,  "pathetic  fallacy,"  is  unsatisfactory,  because  he  pretty 
clearly  limits  it  to  the  subjective  treatment  of  nature,  whereas  the  ascription 
of  sentiency  may  be  used  to  express  at  least  two  other  attitudes  of  mind. 
Mr.  Abbott's  term,  "  personal  metaphor,"  is  unsatisfactory,  because,  if  my 
contention  holds,  the  idea  of  person  is  either  unobtrusive  or  wholly 
absent. 


Hi  MODERN    LANGUAGE    ASSOCIATION. 

In  default  of  a  better  term.  I  have  named  this  ascription  of  sentiency  to 
insentient  nature — which  is  a  rhetorical  device,  essentially  a  metaphor ;  is 
based  on  the  fact  that  resemblances  readily  attract  attention;  and  is  used, 
like  metaphor,  for  added  vividness — vivification. 

In  10,000  lines  of  Keats,  I  found  357  cases  of  vivification.  Keats,  in  his 
treatment  of  nature,  used  vivification  oftener  than  he  did  any  other  device, 
and  used  it  so  often  that  we  must  take  account  of  it  in  any  detailed  state- 
ment of  his  attitude  toward  nature. 

Professor  C.  von  Klenze,  Professor  A.  H.  Tolman,  and  Mr. 
K.  D.  Jessen  discussed  this  paper. 

By  vote  of  the  Association  it  was  decided  that  the  session  be 
closed  at  5.00  p.  m.,  and  that  each  discussion  be  limited  to  five 
minutes. 

6.  "  The  inflectional  types  of  the  qualifying  adjective  in 
German."     By  Professor  G.  O.  Curme,  of  the  Northwestern 
University. 

The  paper  was  discussed  by  Professors  H.  Schmidt- Warten- 
berg  and  S.  W.  Cutting,  and  Dr.  P.  O.  Kern. 

7.  "  The  component  elements  of  Aliscans."     By  Professor 
Raymond  Weeks,  of  the  University  of  Missouri. 

The  author  being  prevented  from  attending  the  meeting,  his 
paper  was  read  by  title. 

8.  "The  gender  of  English  loanwords  in  Danish."     By 
Professor  Daniel  Kilham  Dodge,  of  the  University  of  Illinois. 
[Printed  in  Americana  Germanica,  n.] 

Owing  to  the  absence  of  the  author  the  paper  was  presented 
by  Professor  L.  A.  R-hoades. 

9.  "On  the  Scandinavian  element  in  English."     By  Pro- 
fessor Albert  E.  Egge,of  The  Washington  Agricultural  College. 

This  paper  was  read  by  Professor  A.  H.  Tolman ;  and 
discussed  by  Professors  G.  Hempl,  S.  W.  Cutting,  H.  Schmidt- 
Wartenberg,  Dr.  P.  O.  Kern,  and  Mr.  F.  J.  Lange. 

Except  the  few  Greek  and  Latin  words  brought  in  with  Christianity,  the 
English  language  down  to  the  Norman  Conquest  was  almost  entirely  free 
from  foreign  elements.  The  main  influence  to  which  English  was  subject 


PROCEEDINGS    FOR    1897.  HH 

before  this  event  was  that  of  the  closely  allied  Norse.  During  the  ninth 
century  the  British  Isles  were  attacked  on  every  side  by  Norse  Pirates,  who 
came  in  such  numbers  and  managed  aflairs  with  such  vigor  that  for  a  time 
the  British  Isles  seemed  to  be  on  the  verge  of  becoming  Scandinavian.  In 
Ireland  the  Vikings  established  kingdoms  at  Dublin,  Limerick,  and  Water- 
ford,  but  were  in  course  of  time  absorbed  by  the  natives.  In  Scotland  also, 
the  western  part  of  which,  with  the  Islands,  was  long  in  their  power,  the 
Norse  by  and  by  lost  their  identity.  But  in  England  their  influence  was 
greater.  By  the  Treaty  of  Wedmore  (878),  the  Danes  got  possession  of  the 
north-east  half  of  England,  or  the  part  settled  by  the  Angles,  and  Norwegians 
at  a  later  time  occupied  the  north-west  counties.  In  some  shires  the 
Scandinavians,  were  very  numerous,  perhaps  in  the  majority;  and  although 
here  also  they  were  eventually  absorbed  by  the  people  among  whom  they 
settled,  northern  England  was  strongly  Scandinavian  in  character  until 
after  the  Norman  Conquest,  and  the  English  language  of  that  part  received 
a  Scandinavian  impress  which  it  has  retained  to  this  day. 

The  districts  settled  by  the  Danes  and  Norwegians  are  still  marked  by 
geographical  names  ending  in  by,  beck,  garth,  gate,  toft,  tlnruite,  and  perhaps 
also  those  in  ey,  ness,  and  thorpe.  Many  personal  names  are  also  Scandinavian 
in  origin,  as  well  as  the  fashion  of  forming  patronymics  by  the  suffix  son. 
The  pronunciation  of  northern  English  remained  more  nearly  like  the 
Scandinavian  than  did  that  of  southern  English,  as  in  Scotch,  bane,  hame, 
stane.  In  imitation  of  the  corresponding  Scandinavian  forms,  n  was  in- 
serted in  the  numerals  .sere////*,  ninth,  t<nth,  and  the  rest;  are  took  the  place 
of  beoth  or  «ind;  and  several  hundred  nouns  and  idioms  supplanted  the 
original  English.  In  the  north  inflections  early  disappeared,  doubtless  due 
in  a  measure  to  the  presence  of  Norse,  whereas  in  the  south  the  rich  inflec- 
tion of  the  old  English  continued  much  longer,  examples  being  in  the 
OnmUwN  and  the  Aycnbite  of  Inwyt. 

Many  of  these  changes  are  clearly  observable  already  in  the  Anglo-Saxon 
Chronicle  of  the  time  of  King  Alfred,  and  in  the  Midland  and  Northern 
monuments  of  the  Middle  English  period  the  borrowed  element  is  very 
considerable,  as  well  as  in  the  spoken  English  of  northern  England  and  of 
Scotland  to  this  day.  In  Burns's  poems  in  Scotch  dialect,  for  example,  are 
found  such  Norse  words  as  bit/  (build),  gar  (make),  gleg  (sharp),  graip,  (dung- 
fork),  heeze  (raise),  lift  (sky),  nowle  (cattle),  roose  (praise),  rowte  (to  low), 
loom  (empty),  and  many  others.  In  modern  literary  English,  which  dates 
from  the  fourteenth  century  and  is  based  on  the  dialect  of  London  and  the 
neighboring  district  on  the  north,  the  Scandinavian  element  is  small,  because 
in  this  part  of  England  the  Scandinavian  settlers  were  few.  Yet  Prof.  Skeat 
mentions  nearly  seven  hundred  Scandinavian  words  in  modern  English, 
and  most  of  these  are  in  common  use. 

The  Scandinavian  influence  on  English  is  a  fruitful  field  of  study,  which 
as  yet  has  been  only  partly  explored.  The  list  of  Norse  loan-words  made 
out  by  Professor  Skeat  could  be  considerably  enlarged. 


liv  MODERN   LANGUAGE   ASSOCIATION. 


FOURTH    SESSION,  JANUARY  1. 

The  fourth  session  was  convened  at  9.40  a.  m.  Professor 
W.  H.  Carruth  presided. 

The  Auditing  Committee  presented  the  following  report : 
As  Committee  appointed  to  audit  the  Treasurer's  accounts 
we  beg  leave  to  report  that  we  have  examined  the  same  and 
found  them  correct. 

Paul  O.  Kern. 
F.  J.  Lange. 

The  report  of  the  Committee  was  accepted. 

The  Committee  on  Nomination  of  Officers  presented  the 
following  names  for  election  : 

President,  C.  Alphonso  Smith. 

Secretary  and  Treasurer,  H.  Schmidt -Warten berg. 

First  V ice-President,  Ewald  Fluegel. 

Second  Vice-President,  G.  E.  Karsten. 

Third  Vice-President,  Raymond  Weeks. 

Members  of  the  Council,  J.  T.  Hatfield,  J.  D.  Bruner, 
Albert  E.  Jack,  Charles  Bundy  Wilson. 

By  vote  of  the  members  these  candidates  were  elected  officers 
for  the  ensuing  year. 

Professor  J.  D.  Bruner  recommended  the  organization  of  a 
Phonetic  and  a  Pedagogical  Section.  Professor  A.  H.  Tolman 
wished  to  see  that  work  recognized  by  assigning  to  it  a  part 
of  the  programme.  Professor  J.  T.  Hatfield  argued  that  such 
an  arrangement  might  tend  to  divide  the  interest  of  the 
members  attending.  Upon  motion  of  Professor  A.  H.  Tolman 
the  Secretary  was  requested  to  group  the  phonetical  and 
pedagogical  papers. 

The  following  resolution,  offered  by  Professor  J.  S.  Nollen 
was  adopted  by  a  rising  vote : 

Resolved,  That  the  Central  Division  of  the  Modern  Language 
Association  of  America  recognize  with  sincere  gratitude  the 


PROCEEDINGS   FOR    1897.  lv 

hearty  and  generous  hospitality  extended  to  it  by  the  Mayor 
and  the  citizens  of  Evanston,  by  the  Country  and  Evanston 
Clubs,  by  the  University  Guild,  by  the  President  and  Faculty 
of  Northwestern  University,  and  particularly  by  the  members 
of  the  Modern  Language  departments  of  the  University. 

10.  "Heine's  relation  to  Wolfgang  Menzel."    By  Professor 
Julius  Goebel,  of  Leland  Stanford  University. 

In  the  absence  of  Professor  Goebel  the  paper  was  read  by 
Dr.  P.  O.  Kern.  It  was  discussed  by  Professor  J.  T.  Hatfield. 

11.  "The  Metamorphosis  of  Greene  and  of  Lyly."     By 
Professor  C.  F.  McClumpha,  of  the  University  of  Minnesota. 

In  this  paper  the  attempt  has  been  made  to  present  the  resemblances  and 
differences  existing  between  Lyly's  Love's  Metamorphosis  and  Greene's  Alcida, 
or,  as  the  second  title  reads,  Greene's  Metamorphosis,  and  at  the  same  time 
to  determine  the  possible  interdependence  of  the  two  works.  Lyly's  work 
is  a  drama,  Greene's  a  novel. 

Lyly's  Euphues,  The  Anatomy  of  Wit,  appeared  in  1579,  and  Greene 
hastened  to  imitate  this  popular  success  by  the  publication  of  Mamillia,  a 
Looking-Glass  for  the  ladies  of  England,  in  1583.  In  1587  Greene  openly 
borrowed  the  title  of  Lyly's  works,  and  again  in  1589.  In  these  two  pro- 
ductions he  showed  himself  to  be  wholly  under  the  influence  of  Lyly's 
euphuism.  He  had  borrowed  the  balanced  style,  the  alliteration,  the 
similizing  imagery,  in  a  word,  the  euphuistic  prose  style  of  Lyly.  To  all 
this  he  added  his  own  scholarship  which  was  by  no  means  inferior. 

The  chronological  order  of  Lyly's  plays  has  never  been  satisfactorily  de- 
termined. Collier  (Hist.  Dram.  Lit.,  in,  176)  writes,  "  Before  1589,  Lily 
wrote  nine  dramatic  pieces — seven  in  prose,  one  in  rhyme,  and  one  in  blank 
verse."  Of  these  two  were  published  soon  after  they  were  acted,  the  others 
in  or  after  1591. 

The  history  of  the  publication  of  Lyly's  plays  is  as  follows:  In  1632 
Edward  Blount,  the  bookseller  and  publisher,  brought  out  an  edition  of  six 
plays,  omitting  the  three  plays  entitled :  The  Woman  in  the  Moone,  The 
Maides  Metamorphosis,  and  Love's  Metamorphosis.  In  1858,  F.  W.  Fairholt 
brought  out  his  edition  of  Lyly's  plays  in  two  volumes,  embracing  the  six 
plays  of  Blount's  edition  and  the  two  plays  entitled,  The  Woman  in  the  Moone, 
and  Love's  Metamorphosis,  but  omitting  the  ninth  play,  The  Maides  Meta- 


We  do  not  know  when  Love's  Metamorphosis  was  written.  It  was  printed 
in  1601.  Lyly's  burial  is  recorded  in  1606,  therefore  this  play  was  the  last 
printed  in  his  lifetime,  and  not  The  Woman  in  the  Moone,  as  Mr.  Saintsbury 
states  in  his  History  of  Eliz.  Lit. 


Ivi  MODERN    LANGUAGE    ASSOCIATION. 

Blount's  rejection  of  this  play,  Love's  Metamorphosis,  has  never  caused 
Lyly's  authorship  of  the  same  to  be  questioned.  Collier  did  waver  for  a 
time,  not  knowing  whether  to  classify  it  as  a  poor  production  or  as  the  work 
of  another.  But  Ward,  Morley,  Symonds,  Saintsbury,  Courthope,  and 
others,  have  ascribed  it  unhesitatingly  to  Lyly,  choosing  to  explain  its  in- 
feriority by  calling  it  a  late  production  of  the  author. 

We  have  next  to  determine  the  time  of  Greene's  Alcida.  This  novel  was 
finished  in  1588  and  was  entered  at  the  Stationers'  Hall  on  the  ninth  of 
December.  We  may  expect  that  it  was  published  soon  after,  some  time  in 
1589,  yet  the  earliest  and  only  known  edition  of  it  is  that  of  1617.  Dr. 
Grosart  (Greene's  Works,  vol.  i,  87,  note)  states  that  "R.  B.,"  the  author  of 
Greene's  Funerals,  London,  1594,  included  Alcida  among  the  most  celebrated 
of  Greene's  literary  achievements.  This  is  almost  conclusive  evidence  that 
the  edition  of  1617  is  not  the  first  printed  edition. 

(Then  followed  an  outline  of  the  two  stories.) 

The  stories  are  similar,  even  in  the  details  of  reported  conversations  and 
descriptive  terminology.  Lyly's  play,  Love's  Metamorphosis,  contains  many 
defects  which  various  critics  have  ascribed  to  the  lack  of  vivacity  and  to  the 
old  age  of  the  author  at  the  time  of  composition.  If  Lyly  was  born  in 
1553  or  1554  and  died  in  1606,  at  the  age  of  fifty-two  or  fifty-three,  we 
should  hardly  regard  him  as  an  old  man.  -Significant  is  it  also,  that  his  two 
earliest  plays  were  printed  towards  the  close  of  his  life.  What  prevents 
our  placing  the  last  play  printed  during  his  lifetime  at  the  earliest  date  of 
composition?  The  internal  evidence  of  Love's  Metamorphosis  enables  us  to 
do  this.  The  forced  connection  between  the  main  story  and  the  secondary 
story,  the  far-fetched  plot,  the  slavish  following  of  the  classic  myth,  the 
absence  of  such  comic  incidents  as  are  found  in  his  other  plays,  the  lack  of 
movement  or  interest  in  any  part  of  the  action,  and  the  close  resemblance 
of  this  play  to  his  so-called  first  play,  The  Woman  in  the  Moone,  all  these 
point  to  early  production.  We  therefore  would  fix  the  date  of  Love's  Meta- 
morphosis some  time  after  1584. 

Having  done  this  we  believe  that  Greene's  Alcida  is  another  borrowed 
tale,  and  that  it  is  taken  directly  from  Lyly's  Love's  Metamorphosis.  We 
assume,  then,  that  Lyly's  drama  appeared  in  1585  or  '86;  and  in  the  fol- 
lowing year  Greene  is  busied  transforming  it  into  a  novel  which  is  completed 
and  entered  at  the  Stationers'  Hall  in  1588.  For  some  unknown  reason  our 
first  edition  of  this  novel  dates  from  1617. 

We  present  a  striking  case  of  similarity  or  borrowing  to  establish  our 
claim  and  to  illustrate  our  mode  of  proof:  Lyly  presents  Niobe  defending 
herself  against  Silvestris's  charge  of  having  too  many  lovers — 

"  SiL   The  whole  heaven  hath  but  one  sunne. 
Niobe.   But  starres  infinite. 
SiL   The  rainebow  is  ever  in  one  compasse. 
N.    But  of  sundrie  colours. 


PROCEEDINGS   FOR    1897.  Ivii 

Sil.    A  woman  hath  but  one  heart. 

N.   But  a  thousand  thoughts. 

Sil.  My  lute,  though  it  hath  many  strings,  maketh  a  sweete  consent ;  and 
a  ladie's  heart,  though  it  harbour  many  fancies,  should  embrace  but  one  love. 

N.  The  strings  of  my  heart  are  tuned  in  a  contrarie  keye  to  your  lute, 
and  make  as  sweete  harmonic  in  discords  as  yours  in  concord." 

Greene  in  like  manner  presents  a  scene  where  Meribates  and  Eriphila 
are  having  a  tiff  over  the  same  trouble.  Eriphila  says,  "  What,  lord  Meri- 
bates, thinke  you  to  have  a  womans  whole  heart?  no,  unless  you  can  procure 
Venus  to  make  her  blind,  or  some  other  deity  deafe ;  for  if  she  see  beauty 
or  gold,  or  heare  promises  or  passions,  I  thinke  shee  will  keepe  a  corner 
for  a  friend,  and  so  will  I.  But,  Madam,  the  glorious  frame  of  the  world, 
consists  in  unitie,  for  wee  see  that  in  the  firmament  there  is  but  one  sunne : 
yea,  quoth  Eriphila,  but  there  be  many  stars.  The  Iris  or  Rainbow  Madam 
(qd.  he)  hath  but  one  quality.  Truth  answered  my  daughter,  but  it  hath 
many  colours :  but  to  come  to  a  familiar  example,  replied  Meribates :  the 
heart  hath  but  one  string ;  yea,  but,  quoth  Eriphila,  it  hath  many  thoughts, 
and  from  these  thoughts  spring  passions,  and  from  passions,  not  love  but 
loves:" 

Many  other  similar  quotations  might  be  cited,  many  euphuistic  modes 
of  expression,  many  correspondences  in  argument,  not  to  speak  of  the  great 
argument,  the  story  itself;  but  they  would  add  length,  not  proof,  to  the  paper. 

In  conclusion,  then,  we  would  claim  the  interdependence  of  the  two  stories, 
which  is  self-evident,  yet  has  remained  unnoticed  up  to  this  time,  we  believe. 
We  are  also  inclined  to  place  Lyly's  Love's  Metamorphosis  among  his  earlier 
works,  for  its  date  of  publication  proves  nothing  as  to  its  age,  while  its  in- 
ferior workmanship  expresses  youthful  inexperience  rather  than  senile  lack 
of  vivacity.  We  would  then  advance  a  point  farther  and  make  Greene's 
Alcida  an  offspring  of  Lyly's  Love's  Metamorphosis. 

Professor  Martha  Foote  Crow  offered  comments  OD  the  paper. 

12.  "  The  unity  of  place  in  the  Cid."    By  Professor  J.  E. 
Matzke,  of  Leland  Stanford  University.     [Printed  in  Modern 
Language  Notes,  xm,  197.] 

The  author  being  absent,  the  paper  was  read  by  Professor 
C.  W.  Benton.  Remarks  were  offered  by  Dr.  T.  L.  Neff, 
Professor  E.  P.  Baillot,  Dr.  de  Poyen-Bellisle,  and  Professor 
J.  S.  Nollen. 

13.  "  The  language  of  Modern  Norway."     By  Professor 
Gisle  Bothne,  of  Luther  College.     [Printed  in  Publications, 
xm,  350  f.] 

Professor  S.  W.  Cutting  discussed  the  paper. 
12   . 


Iviii  MODERN    LANGUAGE   ASSOCIATION. 

FIFTH   SESSION. 
The  President  called  the  meeting  to  order  at  2.45  p.  m. 

The  Secretary  read  a  communication  from  Mr.  W.  W.  Bishop, 
Assistant  Librarian  of  the  Garrett  Biblical  Institute,  stating 
that  the  Library  would  be  open  to  the  members  of  the  Associa- 
tion for  inspection. 

Professor  G.  E.  Karsten  inquired  concerning  the  proposed 
joint  meeting  with  the  Modern  Language  Association.  The 
Secretary  in  his  reply  stated  that  the  question  had  been  discussed 
among  the  officers,  but  that  inasmuch  as  no  official  action  had 
been  taken  at  the  last  meeting  the  matter  had  not  progressed 
farther  than  a  mere  exchange  of  opinion.  An  invitation  had 
been  received,  signed  by  members  of  the  University  of  Indiana 
and  Purdue  University,  to  hold  the  first  joint  meeting  at 
Indianapolis.  Professor  C.  von  Klenze  made  a  motion  to 
meet  every  third  year  in  joint  session.  After  some  discussion 
Professor  F.  A.  Blackburn's  amendment  was  adopted,  viz.  : 
that  it  was  the  sense  of  the  Central  Division  to  hold  a  joint 
meeting  of  the  Modern  Language  Association  in  toto  every 
fourth  year. 

14.  "  Notes  on  Romanic  Syntax/'     By  Dr.  Karl  Pietsch, 
of  the  University  of  Chicago. 

15.  "The  relation  of  the  Knightes  Tale  to  Palamon  and 
Arcite."     By  Professor  George  Hempl,  of  the  University  of 
Michigan. 

The  discussion  of  this  paper  was  by  Professor  F.  A. 
Blackburn.  During  the  discussion  President  W.  H.  Carruth 
invited  Professor  C.  W.  Benton  to  preside. 

16.  "The  earliest  poems  of  Wilhelm   Miiller."     By  Pro- 
fessor J.  T.  Hatfield,  of  the  Northwestern  University.  [Printed 
in  Publications,  xiu,  250  f.] 


PROCEEDINGS    FOR    1897.  lix 

The  discussion  of  this  paper  was  by  Dr.  P.  S.  Allen,  and 
Professor  C.  von  Klenze. 

17.  "  Bacon's  Historia  Literaria."  By  Professor  Ewald 
Fluegel,  of  Leland  Stanford  University. 

The  paper  having  arrived  too  late  to  be  properly  presented 
was  read  by  title. 

The  meeting  adjourned  at  5  o'clock  p.  m. 


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