PREFACE.
SInce long Prefaces are lately much in Fashion upon this and the like Occasions, why may not we be allow’d some tolerable Liberty in this kind; provided we keep close to our Author, and our own Translation of him. As for our Author, wherever Learning, Wit or Judgment have flourish’d, this Poet has always had an extraordinary Reputation. To mention all his Excellencies and Perfections were a Task too difficult for us, and perhaps for the greatest Criticks alive; so very few there are that perfectly understand all of ’em; yet we shall venture at some of the most Remarkable.
To begin with him in general. He was certainly the most Exact, the most Elaborate, and withal the most Natural of all Dramatick Poets; His Stile so neat and pure, his Characters so true and perfect, his Plots so regular and probable, and almost every thing so absolutely just and agreeable, that he may well seem to merit that Praise which several have given him, That he was the most correct Author in the World. To compare him with Plautus, the other great Latin Comedian, we may observe that Plautus had more Wit and Spirit, but Terence more Sense and Judgment; the former’s Stile was rich and glaring, the latter’s more close and even: Plautus had the most dazelling out-side, and the most lively Colours, but Terence drew the finest Figures and Postures,
and had the best Design; the one pleas’d the Vulgar, but our Author the Better sort of people; the former wou’d usually set his Spectators into a loud Laughter, but the latter steal ’em into a sweet Smile that shou’d continue from the beginning to the end of the Representation: in short, Plautus was more lively and vigorous, and so fitter for Action; and Terence more grave and serious, and so fitter for Reading. Tho’ Plautus’s Beauties were very extraordinary, yet he had his Faults and Indecorums very frequent; but Terence’s Excellencies (tho’ possibly inferior to some of the others) were more general, better dispers’d, and closer continu’d; and his Faults so inconsiderable, and so very few, that Scaliger said, There were not three to be found throughout the Six Plays. So that our Author seems to want nothing to make him absolutely compleat, but only that same Vis Comica that Cæsar wishes he had, and which Plautus was Master of in such a high degree. We shall determine nothing between ’em, but leave ’em good Friends as we found ’em.
This may be sufficient for our Author’s Excellencies in general; for his particular ones, we shall begin with his Stile, a thing he has been admir’d for in all Ages, and truly he deserves it; for certainly no one was ever more accurate, natural, and clear in his Expressions than he. But to be a little more particular in this Matter, we shall give you some few of our Author’s Excellencies in this kind under three or four different Heads.
And first, We may observe of his Words, that they are generally nicely chosen, extreamly proper and significant; and many of ’em carry so much Life and Force in ’em, that they can hardly be express’d in any other Language without great disadvantage to the Original. To instance in these following. Qui cum ingeniis conflictatur ejusmodi. Ut animus in spe atque in timore usque ante hac attentus fuit. Nisi me lactasses amantem, & falsa spe produceres. Pam. Mi Pater. Si. Quid mi Pater? Quasi tu
hujus indigeas Patris. Tandem ego non illâ caream, si sit opus, vel totum triduum. Par. Hui? Universum triduum. Quam elegans formarum spectator siem. Hunc comedendum & deridendum vobis propino.
We shall next take notice of one or two Instances of the Shortness and Clearness of his Narrations; as that which Tully mentions. Funus interim procedit sequimur, ad Sepulchrum venimus, in ignem posita est, Fletur. Another may be that in Phormio. Persuasum est homini, factum est, ventum est, vincimur, duxit.
Another remarkable Beauty of his Stile appears in his Climaxes; where every Word is Emphatical, heightens the Sense, and adds considerably to what went before. As, Hæc verba Mehercule una falsa Lachrymula, quam oculos terendo miserè vix vi expresserit, restinguet. Quod ille unciatim vix de demenso suo, suum defraudans genium, comparsit miser.
The last thing we shall give any instance of, is the Softness and Delicacy of his Turns; of which many might be produced; but we think these few may be sufficient for our purpose. Eheu me miseram! Cur non aut isthæc mihi ætas & forma est, aut tibi hæc sententia. Nam si ego digna hac contumelia sum maxime, at tu indignus qui faceres tamen. Nam dum abs te absum, omnes mihi labores fuere, quos cepi, leves, præterquam tui carendum quod erat. Palam beatus, ni unum desit, animus qui modeste isthæc ferat. Aliis, quia defit quod amant, ægre est, tibi, quod super est, dolet. And as for the Purity of his Language in general; we find it very much commended even by Tully himself. And One of the Moderns is not at all out of the way when he tells us: That the Latin Tongue will never be lost, as long as Terence may be had.
Our Author’s Excellent Latin is now the greatest Cause of his Esteem, and makes him so much read in the World; but for certain, he that reads him purely for his Latin
sake, does but a quarter read him; for ’tis his Characters and Plots have so far rais’d him up above the rest of the Poets, and have gain’d him so much Honour among the Criticks in all Ages. His Stile, tho’ so very extraordinary, in a great measure may be learnt by Industry, long Custom, and continual Usage, and has been imitated to a high degree by several; and indeed this was but as rich Attire, and outward Ornaments to set off a more beautiful Body. But in his Characters and Manners there it is that he triumphs without a Rival; and not only Dramatick, but all other Poets must yield to him in that Point. For these are drawn exactly to the Life, perfectly just, truly proportionably, and fully kept up to the last; and as for their being natural, Rapin says, That no Man living had a greater insight into Nature than he. The more a Man looks into ’em, the more he must admire ’em; he’ll find there not only such Beauty in his Images, but also such excellent Precepts of Morality, such solid Sense in each Line, such depth of Reasoning in each Period, and such close arguing between each Party, that he must needs perceive him to be a Person of strong Sense and Judgment. His Deliberations are most compleat, where all the several Accidents, Events, Dangers, Casualties, good and bad Consequences are fully summed up and clearly urg’d; so are the Answers of each Person as perfect, where every thing is so well fitted, so home, and so natural, that if one shou’d study upon ’em never so long, he cou’d scarce find any thing more to the purpose. He had a peculiar Happiness at pleasing and amusing an Audience, perpetually keeping ’em in a most even, pleasant, smiling Temper; and this is the most distinguishing part of his Character from the rest of the World; his Pleasantries were somewhat Manly, and such as reach’d beyond the Fancy and Imagination, even to the Heart and Soul of the Audience; and what is more remarkable yet,
one single Scene shall please a whole day together; a Secret which few or no other Poet ever found out.
And as we have scarce found one Man in the World that equals him in his Characters, so we find but very few that cou’d come up to him in the Management (we mean his Art and Contrivance) of his Plots. We are sensible that many have been so foolish as to count his Plays a bare Bundle of Dialogues dress’d up in a neat Stile, and there all his Excellency to consist, or at least that they are very ordinary and mean; but such senseless Suppositions will soon vanish upon giving an Account of the Nature and Perfection of ’em. He well understood the Rules of the Stage, or rather those of Nature; was perfectly Regular, wonderful exact and careful in ordering each Protasis or Entrance, Epitasis or working up, Catastasis or heighth, and Catastrophe or unravelling the Plot; which last he was famous for making it spring necessarily from the Incidents, and neatly and dextrously untying the Knot, whilst others of a grosser make, would either tear, or cut it in pieces. In short (setting aside some few things which we shall mention by and by) Terence may serve for the best and most perfect Model for our Dramatick Poets to imitate, provided they exactly observe the different Customs and Manners of the Roman and English People; and upon the same account we beg leave to be a little more particular in this Matter, which dispos’d us very much to this Translation.
The Nature of his Plots was for the most part grave and solid, and sometimes passionate a little, resembling our Modern Tragy-Comedies; only the Comical parts were seldom so merry; the Thinness and clearness of ’em somewhat resembling our Modern Tragedies, only more perfect in the latter, and not crouded with too many Incidents. They were all double except the Hecyra, or Mother-in-Law, yet so contriv’d that one was always an Under-plot to the other: So that he still kept perfectly to the first great
Rule of the Stage, the Unity of Action. As for the second great Rule the Unity of Time (that is, for the whole Action to be perform’d in the compass of a Day) he was as exact in that as possible, for the longest Action of any of his Plays reaches not Eleven hours. He was no less careful in the third Rule, The Unity of Place, for ’tis plain he never shifts his Scene in any one of his Plays, but keeps constantly to the same place from the beginning to the end. Then for the Continuance in the Action, he never fails in any one place, but every Instrument is perpetually at work in carrying on their several Designs, and in them the design of the whole; so that the Stage never grows cold till all is finish’d: And to do this the more handsomely and dextrously, he scarce ever brings an Actor upon the Stage, but you presently know his Name and Quality, what part of the Intrigue he’s to promote, why he came there, from whence he came, why just at that time, why he goes off, where he’s a going, and also what he is or ought to be doing or contriving all the time he’s away. His Scenes are always unbroken, so that the Stage is never perfectly clear but between the Acts; but are continually joyn’d by one of the four Unions. Which according to Mon. Hedelin are these; Presence, Seeking, Noise, or Time; and when the Action ceaseth (that is, upon the Stage) and the Stage is clear’d, an Act is then finish’d. Then for Incidents, and the due Preparation of ’em, Terence was admirable: And the true and exact Management of these is one of the most difficult parts of Dramatick Poetry. He contrives every thing in such a manner so as to fall out most probably and naturally, and when they are over they seem almost necessary; yet by his excellent Skill he so cunningly conceals the Events of things from his Audience, till due time, that they can never foresee ’em; by this means they are so amus’d with the Actors Designs, that the Poets is unknown to ’em, till at last, being all along in the dark, they are surpriz’d
most agreeably by something they never look’d for: And this is the most taking and the most delightful part of a Play. We might insist much more largely upon each of these Particulars, and upon several others, but at present we shall content our selves with saying that these Plots are all so very clear, and natural, that they might very well go for a Representation of a thing that had really happen’d; and not the meer Invention of the Poet.
There are two or three remarkable Objections against our Author which we can’t but take notice of. First, ’tis said, That he has not kept to the Unity of Time in his Heautontimoreumenos, or Self-Tormenter; which contains the space of two days. Then, between the second and third Acts, there’s an absolute failure of the Continuance of the Action. These are generally believ’d by several Men, and such as are famous too; and some to vindicate Terence the better have added another Mistake, That the Play was always acted two several times, the two first Acts one, and the three last another. But ’tis plain from all Circumstances, that the Action began very late in the Evening, and ended betimes in the Morning (of which we have said something in our Remarks at the end) so that the whole cou’dn’t contain above Eleven hours; but as for that of the Cessation of the Action, ’tis answer’d two ways, either by the necessity of Sleep at that Interval, and consequently no Cessation, or (which is more probable) by the Persons being busie at the Treat at Chremes’s House, that being a necessary part of the main Action. The two following are Mr. Dryden’s Exceptions; where first he lays an Error to our Author’s Charge in matter of Time. In the Eunuch (says he) when Laches enters Thais’s House by mistake, between his Exit and the Entrance of Pythias, who comes to give ample Relation of the Disorder he has rais’d within, Parmeno who is left upon the Stage has not above five
Lines to speak. In answer to this, Pythias makes no such ample Relation, but rather tells him what Disorders such a foolish Act of his was like to raise; and in truth it is not probable she shou’d stay above five or six Lines speaking, since after she saw her Cheat had taken, she cou’dn’t keep her countenance within Doors, and was so eager to revenge her self by laughing at the Fool without. Besides here’s an excellent Artifice of the Poets, for had she tarry’d longer, Parmeno might ha’ been gone, and her Mirth qualified when she saw the good Fortune Chærea had met withal. His other Exception is, that our Author’s Scenes are several times broken. He instances in the same Play, That Antipho enters singly in the midst of the third Act, after Chremes and Pythias were gone off. As for this, ’tis to be consider’d that Scenes are united by Time as well as Presence; and this is a perfect Union of Time, apparent to all who understand the Art of the Stage. A little farther he says, That Dorias begins the fourth Act alone;—— She quits the Stage, and Phedria enters next. Here Dorias does not quit the Stage till three Scenes after, as appears by Pythias, bidding her carry in such things as she had brought with her from the Captain’s Entertainment; but if she did, there wou’d be an Union of Time nevertheless, as there is in all other places, where the Scenes seem broken. Some make this Objection; that in the beginning of many Scenes, two Actors enter upon the Stage, and talk to themselves a considerable time before they see or know one another; Which (they say) is neither probable nor natural. Those that object this don’t consider the great Difference between our little scanty Stage, and the large magnificent Roman Theatres. Their Stage was sixty Yards wide in the Front, their Scenes so many Streets meeting together, with all By-Lanes, Rows and Allies; so two Actors coming down two different Streets or Lanes cou’dn’t be seen by each other, tho’ the Spectators might see both, and sometimes if they
did see each other they cou’dn’t well distinguish Faces at sixty Yards distances. Besides upon several accounts it might well be suppos’d when an Actor enters upon the Stage out of some House, he might take a turn or two under the Portico’s, Cloysters, or the like (that were usual at that time) about his Door, and take no notice of an Actor’s being on the other side the Stage.
But since we propose our Master as the best Model for Dramatick Poets to follow, we ought in Justice to mention such things wherein he was any ways faulty, or at least where he ought not to be imitated. The first is, He makes his Actors in some places speak directly, and immediately to the Audience (of which that Monologue of Mysis in the first Act of the first Play is an instance) which is contrary to the Rules of Dramatick Poetry, or rather indeed of Nature; and this is the only real Fault that Terence was guilty of, as his want of Vis Comica was the only real Defect. His Plots were not always the best for Story, tho’ for Contrivance, and wanted somewhat of Length and Variety, fully and compleatly to satisfie an Audience. Take ’em all together, they were too much alike to have always their deserv’d Effect of surprizing; which also gave a mighty Limitation to the Variety of his Characters; a great pity for a Man that had such an admirable Knack of drawing them to the Life. It were also to be wish’d that his Monologues or Discourses by single Persons, were less frequent, and sometimes shorter too; for tho’ they are all of ’em full of excellent Sence, sound Reasoning, ingenious Deliberations, and serv’d truly to carry on the main Design; yet several parts of ’em, especially all Narrations, wou’d ha’ been more natural as well as Artificial, if told by Persons of the Drama to one another. Then his Aparts or Asides (that is when one Actor speaks something which another that is present is suppos’d to not hear, tho’ the Audience do) are sometimes too long to be perfectly natural. Whether he
has not sometimes too much Elevation of Passion, or Borders too nigh upon Tragedy for such inferior Persons, we leave to others. These are the main things to be taken notice of by all that make use of him for a Model, besides all such as belong purely to the various Customs of Countries, and to the difference of Theatres; but those are obvious enough to all.
But there’s still one great Objection against these Plays in general; that is, If Terence’s Plays are so good as is pretended, why doesn’t some Poet or other translate one or more of ’em for the Stage, so save himself the trouble of racking his Brain for new Matter. We own they wouldn’t take upon our Stage; but to clear all, we shall give these two Reasons: First, The Difference between the Romans and our selves in Customs, Humors, Manners and Theatres is such, that it is impossible to adapt their Plays to our Stages. The Roman Plots were often founded upon the exposing of Children, and their unexpected Delivery, on buying of Misses and Musick-Girls; they were chiefly pleas’d to see a covetous old Father neatly bubbled by his Slave of a round Sum of Money; to find the young Spark his Son (miserably in want of Cash) joyn with the Slave in the Intrigue, that he may get somewhat to stop his Mistress’s Mouth, whom he keeps unknown to his Father; to see a bragging Coxcomb wheadled and abus’d by some cunning Parasite; to hear a Glutton talk of nothing but his Belly, and the like. Our Plots go chiefly upon variety of Love-Intrigues, Ladies Cuckolding their Husbands most dextrously; Gallants danger upon the same account, with their escape either by witty Fetches, or hiding themselves in dark Holes, Closets, Beds, &c. We are all for Humour, Gallantry, Conversation, and Courtship, and shou’dn’t endure the chief Lady in the Play a Mute, or to say very little, as ’twas agreeable to them: Our amorous Sparks love to hear the pretty Rogues prate, snap up their Gallants, and Repartée upon ’em on all sides. We shou’dn’t
like to have a Lady marry’d without knowing whether she gives her consent or no, (a Custom among the Romans) but wou’d be for hearing all the Courtship, all the rare and fine things that Lovers can say to each other. The second Reason of their not taking upon the Stage is this, tho’ Terence’s Plays are far more exact, natural, regular, and clear than ours, and his Persons speak more like themselves than generally ours do; yet (to speak impartially) our Plays do plainly excel his in some Particulars. First, in the great Variety of the Matter and Incidents of our Plots; the Intrigues thicker and finer; the Stories better, longer, and more curious for the most part than his: And tho’ there’s much confusion, huddle and precipitation in the generality of ’em; yet the great variety and number of Incidents tho’ ill manag’d, will have several Charms, and be mighty diverting, especially to a vulgar Audience, like the Sight of a large City at a distance, where there is little of Regularity or Uniformity to be discern’d just by. Next, we do much excel Terence in that which we call Humour, that is in our Comical Characters, in which we have shewn and expos’d the several Humours, Dispositions, Natures, Inclinations, Fancies, Irregularities, Maggots, Passions, Whims, Follies, Extravagancies, &c. of Men under all sorts of Circumstances, of all sorts of Ranks and Qualities, of all Professions and Trades, and of all Nations and Countries, so admirably, and so lively, that in this no Nation among the Ancients or Moderns were ever comparable to us. Lastly, Our Comedies excel his in some Delicacies of Conversation; particularly in the Refinedness of our Railery and Satyr, and above all in Repartée. Some of these things (especially when mix’d with Humour) have made many an ordinary Plot take and come off well; and without a pretty quantity of some of ’em, our Plays wou’d go down very heavily.
Since we are accidentally fall’n into the Excellencies of our Comedies, we hope it may be pardonable if we mention also some principal Faults in ’em, which seem to need a Regulation. And first, Our Poets seldom or never observe any of the three great Unities of Action, Time and Place, which are great Errors; For what breeds more Confusion than to have five or six main Plots in a Play, when the Audience can never attend to ’em? What more extravagant than to fancy the Actions of Weeks, Months, and Years represented in the Space of three or four Hours? Or what more unnatural than for the Spectators to suppose themselves now in a Street, then in a Garden, by and by in a Chamber, immediately in the Fields, then in a Street again, and never move out of their place? Wou’dn’t one swear there was Conjuration in the Case; that the Theatres were a sort of Fairy Land where all is Inchantment, Juggle and Delusion? Next, our Plays are too often over-power’d with Incidents and Under-plots, and our Stage as much crowded with such Actors, as there’s little or no occasion for; especially at one time. Then the Matter, and Discourse of our Plays is very often incoherent and impertinent as to the main Design; nothing being more common than to meet with two or three whole Scenes in a Play, which wou’d have fitted any other part of the Play ev’n as well as that; and perhaps any Play else. Thus some appear to swear out a Scene or two, others to talk bawdy a little, without any manner of dependance upon the rest of the Action. But besides this (which is another great Error) when the Matter and Discourse do serve to carry on the main Design, commonly Persons are brought on to the Stage without any sort of Art, Probability, Reason or Necessity for their coming there; and when they have no such Business as one that comes in to give you a Song or a Jigg. They come there to serve the Poets Design a little, then off they go with as little Reason as they came on; and that only to make way for other Actors, who (as they did)
come only to tell the Audience something the Poet has a mind to have ’em know; and that’s all their business: And truly that’s little enough. This we see frequently in the chief Actor of the Play, who comes on and goes off, and the Spectators all the time stand staring and wondring at what they know not what. Another great Fault common to many of our Plays is, that an Actor’s Name, Quality or Business is scarce ever known till a good while after his appearance; which must needs make the Audience at a great Loss, and the Play hard to be understood, forcing ’em to carry Books with ’em to the Play-house to know who comes in, and who goes out.
The Ancients were guilty of none of these Absurdities, and more especially our Author; and indeed the Non-observance of Rules has occasion’d the great Miscarriages of so many excellent Genius’s of ours, particularly that of the immortal Shakespear. Since these are such apparent Faults and Absurdities, and still our Beauties are so admirable as to cover, and almost to out-weigh our Errors (else our Plays were not to be endur’d) undoubtedly our Dramatick Poets by the Observance of this Author’s Ways and Rules might out-do all the Ancients and Moderns too, both at Tragedy and at Comedy; for no Nation ever had greater Genius’s than ours for Dramatick Poetry. These ha’ been but little observ’d as yet, so that all our fine Imitations of Nature may often be call’d Lucky hits, and more by Accident than by Art. We very much need a Reformation in this Case, and our Plays can never arrive to any great Perfection without it; therefore the nigher they come up to this Standard, the more they will be admir’d and lov’d by all Judicious Persons, provided they still keep to those Excellencies before-mention’d. Besides, these are as easily practicable upon ours as upon the Greek and Roman Theatres; and by a strict Observance of the Unity of Place, the Stage may be made far more handsome and magnificent with less Charge; and by that of
the Unity of Action (especially by the help of an Under-plot or so) the Story may be made far more fine and clear with less trouble.
But our Nation by long Custom, and the Success of Irregular Pieces, seems naturally averse to all Rules; and take it very ill to have their Thoughts confin’d and shackled, and tied to the Observance of such Niceties: Therefore in the first place they tell us, That Poets of all Men in the World are perfectly freely, and by no means ought to confine their Noble Fancies to dull pedantick Rules; For this (say they) is like taking of Bees, cutting off their Wings, and laying such Flowers before ’em to make Honey as they please. A Poet indeed shou’d be free, and unconfin’d as Air, as to his Though, Fancy and Contrivance, but then his Poetica Licentia shou’dn’t transport him to Madness and Extravagancy, making him phrensically transgress the Rules of Reason and Nature, as well as Poetry. These that we mention are not any Man’s Arbitrary Rules, but pure Nature only Methodiz’d: They never hamper a Poet’s Fancy or clip his Wings, but adorn their Thoughts, and regulate their Flights so as to give ’em a clearer insight into Nature, Probability and Decency, without something of which it is impossible to please. And these are no more a Confinement to a Poet’s Fancy, than the true Proportion of Pillars, the Regularity and Uniformity of Windows are to an Architect; or the exact Imitation of Nature to a Painter: As if there could be half so much Beauty in Grotesque and irregular Whims, as in the due Observation of the Rules of Prospect, Shadows and Proportion.
Another Objection is, That our Nation will never bear Rules, but are much better pleas’d with the ways now in practice. ’Tis true, several of our most irregular Plays have come off with a great deal of Applause, but certainly never the more for their Irregularity; but because most of the Audience knew no better, being often dazzled by the
Greatness of the Author’s Genius, and the Actor’s Performances; and those that did, were willing to pardon the Faults for the sake of some choice Master-stroaks they had; and upon the same account a couple of good Scenes have many times carry’d off a very indifferent Play: ’Tis plain that want of Use and Knowledge have been the only Cause of these ways seeming so unpracticable; and if the middle sort of Persons were once truly brought to a Sight of the Excellencies of this, and the Deformities of the other way (as the well reading of these Plays wou’d in a great measure do, being chiefly design’d for them) they wou’d esteem of it far more than now; and certainly they cou’d never pardon those many Indecencies, Improbabilities, Absurdities that are so frequent in our Plays. ’Tis true, there has been a considerable Regulation among many of ’em since the Days of Shakespear, but not to bring things half to perfection. And thus Regulation has made hope for a further, as the Age will be brought to bear it.
The last Objection is more particular: They say, That the Unities of Action, Time and Place must needs take off from the great Variety of the Plot, and a fine Story by this means will be quite murder’d. ’Tis true, all Stories whatsoever are not fit for a Dramatick Poem; yet there may be an excellent Plot without crowding together Intrigues (little depending upon one another) of half a dozen couple, suppose, in one Play; without hurrying over the Business of three Months in three Hours time, or perhaps without skipping from Gardens to Mountains, from thence to Groves, and then to Town in an Act or two: But our prying, curious Sparks can’t rest here, but must be for peeping into Chambers, Closets, and Withdrawing-Rooms, ay, and into Beds too (sometimes with the Ladies in ’em) and have all things brought openly upon the Stage, tho’ never so improper, and indecent. But this Objection may yet be better answer’d by Instances; and
first for the Unity of Time, we may mention the Play call’d, The Adventures of Five Hours, the whole Action lasting no longer (much less a day, the extent allow’d for a Dramatick Poem) yet this is one of the pleasantest Stories that ever appear’d upon our Stage, and has as much Variety of Plots and Intrigues, without any thing being precipitated, improbable or unnatural as to the main Action; so by this it appears that this Rule is no Spoiler or Murderer of a finer Story. Then for the Unity of Time and Action too, Ben. Johnson’s Silent Woman is a remarkable Instance; an excellent Comedy indeed, where the Action is perfectly single, and the utmost extent of the Time exceeds not three Hours and a half (the shortest we ever find) yet still the Plot, Intrigues, and above all the Incidents are very fine, and no ways unnatural. Lastly, For all three Unities, Mr. Dryden’s All for Love (tho’ a Tragedy, and somewhat foreign to our business) is worthy to be taken notice of, that being perfectly Regular according to the Rules of the Stage, the Scenes unbroken, the Incidents exactly and duly prepar’d, and all things noble and beautiful, just and proportionable. This we reckon one of the best Tragedies of our Nation. Now can any Man justly think that these Plays we now mention’d were ever the worse for that Regularity they had; or indeed have we many better in the Nation for Plot; or many that have better pleas’d the generality of Persons than these; If so this sufficiently shows the Truth of what we offered; and withal commends our Master’s great Judgment in this Point: Who, in our Opinion (besides the Excellency of his Characters) plainly deserves a greater Name for his Plots, than he does for his Language.
Come we next then to our own Vindication, in which we shall briefly shew the Reasons why we did it, and likewise what our Performances have been in this Version.
The main Reasons why we undertook it were these. First, For the Excellency and Usefulness of this Author in general: And consequently for the benefit (as we shall shew by and by) of most sorts of People, but especially for the Service it may do our Dramatick Poets. Next, for the Honour of our own Language, into which all good Books ought to be Translated, since ’tis now become so Elegant, Sweet and Copious: And indeed nothing refines, or gives Foreigners a greater Opinion of any Language than its number of good Translations; of which the French is a great Instance. Thirdly, Because most of our Neighbours have got it in their Language, particularly the French, who have done it with good Success; and we have no reason for our being out-done by any of our Neighbours, since we have a Language we dare set against any in the World. Lastly, Since the Author is so excellent, we undertook it because no other Persons wou’d. ’Tis strange that none of our great Wits wou’d undertake it before, but let us Persons of Obscurity, take their Works out of their Hands; when we can perceive by our little Performances that our Language will do it to a very high degree, undoubtedly better than the French.
The most considerable Objections that have been made against our Translation are these. First, What real Use or Advantage can this Translation be to the Publick? As for school-Boys and Learners, Bernard’s and Hool’s Translations, the great number of Notes, a School-Master, or their own Industry will well enough teach ’em to construe it. Men of Sense and Learning, they read it wholly for the Latin sake; therefore a Translation is of no use to them. Lastly, They won’t fit our Stage; and consequently they are impertinent at best. To these we answer; First, As to School-Boys and Learners; Bernard’s and Hool’s Translations are very often false, mostly so obsolete, flat and unpleasant, that a Man can scarce read half a Page without sleeping; the latter
is full of Latinisms, and both are often more obscure than the Original. The Notes sometimes don’t express the Author’s Sense; and often very obscurely: In some things they are too short, in others too long and tedious: And most of them have the slight of running very nimbly over those Places which they are afraid they shou’d stick in. School-Masters often want time, and now and then Judgment and Learning to explain things as they ought; then to leave Boys by themselves to pick out the Sense of such a difficult Author as this, is very inconvenient; which besides the Discouragement sometimes of not being able to do it, will often lead ’em into such Errors and Mistakes, as perhaps they’ll ne’re get clear of. So that this will be of great use even to School-Boys and Learners: Beside the great Advantage of teaching ’em, perhaps not the worst English; and something of the Idiom of our Tongue.
As for the second part of the Objection, That Men of Sense and Learning read it only for the Latin sake; This is or ought to be look’d upon as a great Mistake: Since Terence has other and greater Excellencies than his Style, as we have before shewn. But however ingenious Persons must needs receive some pleasure in seeing such excellent Latin now speak tolerable good English; and likewise in seeing somewhat of the Conversation, Humour and Customs of the old Greeks and Romans put into a modern Dress; and perhaps not quite out of the Fashion. Besides, since many of these do sometimes upon an occasion make use of Notes, ’twill be of equal use (in that respect) to them as to all Learners. And that they have often need of such, will appear from the several difficult places (especially as to the Plot) and some obscure dubious Passages in this Author, which the utmost Skill in the Latin Tongue will not teach to explain; since there is as great a necessity for the understanding of the Roman Customs and Theatres in this Case, and of the Art of the Stage, as of the Latin Tongue. How extraordinary useful a
Translation can be in perfectly clearing an Author, Roscommon’s Translation of Horace’s Art of Poetry is an apparent Instance; which shews the Sense, Meaning, Design, &c. of Horace better and easier than all the Paraphrases and Notes in the World.
Thirdly, Tho’ our Translation will never fit our Stage, yet it may be of considerable use to some of the Dramatick Poets; which we had some respect to, when we did it; they will serve ’em (as was said before) for Models; and tho’ many of our Poets do very well understand the Original, yet ’tis plain that some of ’em do not understand it over much. But however, it may not be wholly useless to those that do, and more proper for their business, being ready explain’d to their hands: And upon some accounts to be read with less trouble than the Original: For that is in many places very obscure by reason of corrupted Copies, wrong Points, false Division of whole Acts as well as Scenes and the like: Further, if these Plays come to be frequently read by the more ordinary sort of People, they will by little and little grow more in love with, and more clearly see the true Excellencies of these Rules, and these lively Imitations of Nature, which will be the greatest Encouragement our Poets can have to follow ’em. And besides, the common People by these Plays may plainly perceive that Obscenities and Debaucheries are no ways necessary to make a good Comedy; and the Poets themselves will be the more ready to blush when they see Heathens so plainly out-do us Christians in their Morals; for their principal Vices in their Plays, were chiefly from the Ignorance of the Times, but we have no such pretence. This alone might ha’ been a sufficient reason for our undertaking this Design.
But to come now to what we have done; ’tis not to be expected we shou’d wholly reach the Air of the Original; that being so peculiar, and the Language so different; We have imitated our Author as well and as nigh as the English Tongue and our small Abilities wou’d permit; each of
us joyning and consulting about every Line, not only for the doing of it better, but also for the making of it all of a piece. We follow’d no one Latin Copy by it self, because of the great Disagreements among ’em, but have taken any that seem’d truest. We look’d over all the Notes, sometimes they would help us a little, and often not; some hints we had from the French, but not very many; besides we had considerable helps from other Persons far above our selves, for whose Care and Pains we shall ever acknowledge our Gratitude. A meer Verbal Translation is not to be expected, that wou’d sound so horribly, and be more obscure than the Original; but we have been faithful Observers of his Sence, and even of his Words too, not slipping any of consequence without something to answer it; nay farther, where two Words seem to be much the same, and perhaps not intended to be very different by the Author, we were commonly so nice as to do them too; such as Segnitia and Socordia, Scire and Noscere, and the like, which is more exact than most, if not all, our modern Versions. We cou’dn’t have kept closer (especially in this Author, which several ingenious Persons told us, Is the hardest in the World to translate;) without too much treading upon the Author’s Heels, and destroying our Design of giving it an easie, Comick Style, most agreeable to our present Times. If we have been guilty of any Fault of this nature, it seems to be that of keeping too close.
But still to be more particular; we did all we cou’d to prevent any of the Meaning and Grace of the best Words to be lost; so that we were often forc’d to search and study some time for those most proper, and oftentimes to express ’em by two, and sometimes by a Circumlocution: Which Madam Dacier her self, as accurate as she is accompted, has often neglected: And thereby has wholly lost the Force and Beauty of many Emphatical Words. Terence had some Words taken in a great many several Sences, such as Contumelia and Injuria, Odiosus, Tristis, &c. these we
have been very careful about; but where he plays upon Words (tho’ never so prettily) he ought not in some places to be imitated at all, because the Fineness is more lost that way, than the other; yet we try’d at several when they were Natural and tolerable in English. As for his Allusions and the like, many of them perhaps are quite lost to us. However they are commonly lost in our Language. On such places (as well as some others) we made Remarks or Notes at the latter end; some of which we are oblig’d to the French Lady for; these serving to shew our Author’s fine Stroaks, as well as to vindicate our Translation. For his Sense and Meaning, we have taken more than ordinary care about, and weigh’d all Circumstances before we fix’d. Several of the Passages are done contrary to the general Opinion, and some few differently from all, both as to the Person that speaks as well as the Meaning, but not without good Grounds; and if any be so nice in censuring, we desire that Person to shew us three Terences that exactly agree with one another, either in Points or Words, for two Acts together. Of those Passages that were absolutely doubtful, we always took the best, and that, which seem’d to us, the most probable Way and Meaning; and all such as were difficult, knotty or obscure in the Original, we made as plain and clear as we cou’d; and we presume to phansie there are very few Passages in ours, unintelligible to the meanest Capacity. In his Jests and Repartees (except they were Allusions or the like) we hope that the force of ’em is seldom lost. For making every Person speak so exactly like themselves (a thing that our Author was so famous for) is much more difficult in English by reason of its greater variety of Idioms and Phrases than in the Latin; and to suit these always right, requires a greater Genius than we can pretend to. Terence, tho’ reckon’d very genteel in his Days, seems in some place to have a sort of familiarity and bluntness in his Discourse, not so agreeable with the Manners and Gallantry
of our Times; which we have mollify’d as well as we cou’d, still making the Servants sawcy enough upon occasion. In some places we have had somewhat more of Humour than the Original, to make it still more agreeable to our Age; but all the while have kept so nigh our Author’s Sence and Design, that we hope it can never be justly call’d a Fault. We can’t certainly tell whither William the Conqueror, the Grand Seignior (and the like) may pass with some: They may possibly take ’em for Blunders in time: which are now become Proverbial Expressions; the first signifying only a great while ago, and t’other a great Man.
As for the Division of the Acts and Scenes, all the common Terences are most notoriously false: The Acts are often wrong, but the Scenes oftener; and these have bred some obscurity in our Author’s Rules. Madam Dacier has been more exact in this than all others before her; yet, still she’s once mistaken in her Acts, and very often in her Scenes. We have follow’d her as to her Acts, except one in the Phormio; but we have not divided the Scenes at all by Figures, because they are of no such use; only the Reader may take notice that whenever any particular Actor enters upon the Stage, or goes off, that makes a different Scene; for the Ancients never had any other that we know of. The Prologues, by the Advice of several Judicious Persons, are left out, as being the Meanest, the fullest of Quibbles, and the least Intelligible of any thing he wrote: They relating chiefly to private Squabbles between our Author and the Poets of his time: The Particulars of which ’tis impossible for us to understand now, and we need not be much concern’d that we don’t. Besides, in the main, they are so much beneath the Author, that ’tis much question’d whether they are his or no, especially the Third. The Arguments are certainly none of his, and so far from being useful, that they only serve to forestall the Plots, and take away the Pleasure of surprizing.
Lastly, That there might be nothing wanting that might make this Translation as intire and clear as possible; we’ve all the way intermix’d Notes of Explanation, such as, Enter, Exit, Asides, and all other things of Action, necessary to be known, and constantly practis’d among our Modern Dramatick Poets. These serve extreamly to the clearing of the Plots which wou’d be obscure without ’em; especially since their Theatres were so different from ours. And as this sort of Notes are the shortest, that are generally us’d, so they are most compleat, useful and clear, by the help of which any Child almost may apprehend every thing. Perhaps we might have omitted some of ’em, but we have better offend this way than the other.
Thus have we said as much as we thought requisite in Vindication of our Master’s Honour, and of our own Undertaking. And if we had said ten times as much; and ne’re so much to the purpose, People will still think, and talk what they please, and we can’t help it.
PLAUTUS’sCOMEDIES,AMPHITRYON, | |||
——— Non ego paucis Offendar maculis: quas aut incuria fudit Aut humana parum cavit natura:——— Horat. Art. Poet. |