IBRAHIM, OR THE ILLUSTRIOUS BASSA.
The whole Work,
In Four Parts.
Written in French by Monsieur de Scudéry,
And Now Englished
by
Henry Cogan, Gent.
London,
Printed by J.R. and are to be sold by Peter Parker, at his Shop at the Leg and Star over against the Royal Exchange, and Thomas Guy, at the Corner-shop of Little-Lumbard street and Cornhil, 1674.
IBRAHIM, or The Illustrious Bassa
THE PREFACE
I do not know what kind of praise the Ancients thought they gave to that Painter, who not able to end his Work, finished it accidentally by throwing his pencil against his Picture; but I know very well, that it should not have obliged me, and that I should have taken it rather for a Satyre, than an Elogium. The operations of the Spirit are too important to be left to the conduct of chance, and I had rather be accused for failing out of knowledge, than for doing well without minding it. There is nothing which temerity doth not undertake, and which Fortune doth not bring to pass; but when a man relies on those two Guides, if he doth not erre, he may erre; and of this sort, even when the events are successefull, no glory is merited thereby. Every Art hath its certain rules, which by infallible means lead to the ends proposed; and provided that an Architect takes his measures right, he is assured of the beauty of his Building. Believe not for all this, Reader, that I will conclude from thence my work is compleat, because I have followed the rules which may render it so: I know that it is of this labour, as of the Mathematical Sciences, where the operation may fail, but the Art doth never fail; nor do I make this discourse but to shew you, that if I have left some faults in my Book, they are the effects of my weakness, and not of my negligence. Suffer me then to discover unto you all the resorts of this frame, and let you see, if not all that I have done, at leastwise all that I have endeavoured to doe.
Whereas we cannot be knowing but of that which others do teach us, and that it is for him that comes after, to follow them who precede him, I have believed, that for the laying the ground-plot of this work, we are to consult with the Grecians, who have been our first Masters, pursue the course which they have held, and labour in imitating them to arrive at the same end, which those great men propounded to themselves. I have seen in those famous Romanzes of Antiquity, that in imitation of the Epique Poem there is a principal action whereunto all the rest, which reign over all the work, are fastned, and which makes them that they are not employed, but for the conducting of it to its perfection. The action in Homers Iliades is the destrustion of Troy; in his Odysseas the return of Ulysses to Ithaca; in Virgil the death of Turnus, or to say better, the conquest of Italy; neerer to our times, in Tasso the taking of Jerusalem; and to pass from the Poem to the Romanze, which is my principal object, in Helidorus the marriage of Theagines and Cariclia. It is not because the Episodes in the one, and the several Histories in the other, are not rather beauties than defects; but it is alwayes necessary, that the Addresse of him which employes them should hold them in some sort to this principal action, to the end, that by this ingenious concatenation, all the parts of them should make but one body, and that nothing may be seen in them which is loose and unprofitable. Thus the marriage of my Justiniano and his Isabella, being the object which I have proposed unto my self, I have employed all my care so to doe, that all parts of my work may tend to that conclusion; that there may be a strong connexion between them; and that, except the obstacle which Fortune opposeth to the desires of my Hero's, all things may advance, or at leastwise endeavour to advance his marriage, which is the end of my labour. Now those great Geniusses of antiquity, from whom I borrow my light, knowing that well-ordering is one of the principal parts of a piece, have given so excellent a one to their speaking Pictures, that it would be as much stupidity, as pride, not to imitate them. They have not done like those Painters, who present in one and the same cloth a Prince in the Cradle, upon the Throne, and in the Tombe, perplexing, by this so little judicious a confusion, him that considers their work; but with an incomparable address they begin their History in the midle, so to give some suspence to the Reader, even from the first opening of the Book; and to confine themselves within reasonable bounds they have made the History (as I likewise have done after them) not to last above a year, the rest being delivered by Narration. Thus all things being ingeniously placed, and of a just greatness, no doubt, but pleasure will redound from thence to him that beholds them, and glory to him that hath done them. But amongst all the rules which are to be observed in the composition of these works, that of true resemblance is without question the most necessary; it is, as it were, the fundamental stone of this building, and but upon which it cannot subsist; without it nothing can move, without it nothing can please: and if this charming deceiver doth not beguile the mind in Romanzes, this kinde of reading disgusts, instead of entertaining it: I have laboured then never to eloigne my self from it, and to that purpose I have observed the Manners, Customs, Religions, and Inclinations of People: and to give a more true resemblance to things, I have made the foundations of my work Historical, my principal Personages such as are marked out in the true History for illustrious persons, and the wars effective. This is the way doubtless, whereby one may arrive at his end; for when as falshood and truth are confounded by a dexterous hand, wit hath much adoe to disintangle them, and is not easily carried to destroy that which pleaseth it; contrarily, whenas invention doth not make use of this artifice, and that falshood is produced openly, this gross untruth makes no impression in the soul, nor gives any delight: As indeed how should I be touched with the misfortunes of the Queen of Gundaya, and of the King of Astrobacia, whenas I know their very Kingdoms are not in the universal Mapp, or, to say better, in the being of things? But this is not the only defect which may carry us from the true resemblance, for we have at other times seen Romanzes, which set before us monsters, in thinking to let us see Miracles; their Authors by adhering too much to wonders have made Grotesques, which have not a little of the visions of a burning Feaver; and one might demand of these Messieurs with more reason, than the Duke of Ferrara did of Ariosto, after he had read his Orlando, Messer Lodovico done diavolo havete pigliato tante coyonerie? As for me, I hold, that the more natural adventures are, the more satisfaction they give; and the ordinary course of the Sun seems more marvellous to me, than the strange and deadly rayes of Comets; for which reason it is also that I have not caused so many Shipwrecks, as there are in some ancient Romanzes; and to speak seriously, Du Bartas might say of these Authors,
That with their word they bind,
Or loose, at will, the blowing of the wind.
So as one might think that Æolus hath given them the Winds inclosed in a bagg, as he gave them to Ulysses, so patly do they unchain them; they make tempests and shipwracks when they please, they raise them on the Pacifique Sea, they find rocks and shelves where the most expert Pilots have never observed any: But they which dispose thus of the winds, know not how the Prophet doth assure us, that God keeps them in his Treasures; and that Philosophy, as clear sighted as it is, could never discover their retreat. Howbeit I pretend not hereby to banish Shipwrecks from Romanzes, I approve of them in the works of others, and make use of them in mine; I know likewise, that the Sea is the Scene most proper to make great changes in, and that some have named it the Theatre of inconstancy; but as all excess is vicious, I have made use of it but moderately, for to conserve true resembling: Now the same design is the cause also, that my Heros is not oppressed with such a prodigious quantity of accidents, as arrive unto some others, for that according to my sense, the same is far from true resemblance, the life of no man having ever been so cross'd. It would be better in my opinion to separate the adventures, to form divers Histories of them, and to make persons acting, thereby to appear both fertile and judicious together, and to be still within this so necessary true resemblance. And indeed they who have made one man alone defeat whole Armies, have forgotten the Proverb which saith, not one against two; and know not that Antiquity doth assure us, how Hercules would in that case be too weak. It is without all doubt, that to represent a true heroical courage, one should make it execute some thing extraordinary, as it were by a transport of the Heros; but he must not continue in that sort, for so those incredible actions would degenerate into ridiculous Fables, and never move the mind. This fault is the cause also of committing another; for they which doe nothing but heap adventure upon adventure, without ornament, and without stirring up passions by the artifices of Rhetorick, or irksome, in thinking to be the more entertaining. This dry Narration, and without art, hath more of an old Chronicle, than of a Romanze, which may very well be imbellished with those ornaments, since History, as severe and scrupulous as it is, doth not forbear employing them. Certain Authors, after they have described an adventure, a daring design, or some surprising event, able to possess one with the bravest apprehensions in the world, are contented to assure us, that such a Heros thought of very gallant things, without telling us what they are; and this is that alone which I desire to know: For how can I tell, whether in these events Fortune hath not done as much as he? whether his valour be not a brutish valour? and whether he hath born the misfortunes that arrived unto him, as a worthy man should doe? it is not by things without him, it is not by the caprichioes of destiny, that I will judge of him; it is by the motions of his soul, and by that which he speaketh. I honour all them that write at this day; I know their persons, their works, their merits; but as canonizing is for none but the dead, they will not take it ill if I do not Deifie them, since they are living. And in this occasion I propose no other example, than the great and incomparable Urfé; certainly it must be acknowledged that he hath merited his reputation; that the love which all the earth bears him is just; and that so many different Nations, which have translated his Book into their tongues, had reason to do it: as for me, I confess openly, that I am his adorer; these twenty years I have loved him, he is indeed admirable over all; he is fertile in his inventions, and in inventions reasonable; every thing in him is mervellous, every thing in him is excellent; and that which is more important, every thing in him is natural, and truly resembling: But amongst many rare matters, that which I most esteem of is, that he knows how to touch the passions so delicately, that he may be called the Painter of the Soul; he goes searching out in the bottom of hearts the most secret thoughts; and in the diversity of natures, which he represents, evey one findes his own pourtrait, so that
If amongst mortals any be
That merits Altars, Urfé's he
Who can alone pretend thereto.
Certainly there is nothing more important in this kind of composition, than strongly to imprint the Idea, or (to say better) the image of the Heroes in the mind of the Reader, but in such sort, as if they were known to them; for that it is which interesseth him in their adventures, and from thence his delight cometh, now to make them be known perfectly, it is not sufficient to say how many times they have suffered shipwreck, and how many times they have encountered Robbers, but their inclinations must be made to appear by their discourse: otherwise one may rightly apply to these dumb Heroes that excellent motto of Antiquity, Speak that I may see thee. And if from true resemblance and inclinations, expressed by words, we will pass unto manners, goe from the pleasant to the profitable, and from Delight to Example, I am to tell you, Reader, that here Vertue is seen to be alwayes recompenced, and Vice alwayes punished, if he that hath followed his unruliness hath not by a just and sensible repentance obtained Grace from Heaven; to which purpose I have also observed equality of manners in all the persons that do act, unless it be whereas they are disordered by passions, and touched with remorse.
I have had a care likewise to deal in such sort, as the faults, which great ones have committed in my History, should be caused either by Love or by Ambition, which are the Noblest of passions, and that they be imputed to the evil counsell of Flatterers; that so the respect, which is alwayes due unto Kings, may be preserved. You shall see there, Reader, if I be not deceived, the comeliness of things and conditions exactly enough observed; neither have I put any thing into my Book, which the Ladies may not read without blushing. And if you see not my Hero persecuted with Love by Women, it is not because he was not amiable, and that he could not be loved, but because it would clash with Civility in the persons of Ladies, and with true resemblance in that of men, who rarely shew themselves cruel unto them, nor in doing it could have any good grace: Finally, whether things ought to be so, or whether I have judged of my Hero by mine own weakness, I would not expose his fidelity to that dangerous triall, but have been contented to make no Hilas, nor yet an Hipolitus of him.
But whilest I speak of Civility, it is fit I should tell you (for fear I be accused of falling therein) that if you see throughout all my Work, whenas Soliman is spoken unto, Thy Highness, Thy Majestie, and that in conclusion he is treated with Thee, and not with You, it is not for want of Respect, but contrarily it is to have the more, and to observe the custom of those people, who speak after that sort to their Sovereigns. And if the Authority of the living may be of as much force, as that of the dead, you shall find examples of it in the most famous Othomans, and you shall see that their Authors have not been afraid to employ in their own Tongue a manner of speaking, which they have drawn from the Greek and Latin; and then too I have made it appear clearlie, that I have not done it without design; for unless it be whenas the Turks speak to the Sultan, or he to his Inferiours, I have never made use of it, and either of them doth use it to each other.
Now for fear it may be objected unto me, that I have approached some incidents nearer than the Historie hath shewed them to be, great Virgil shall be my Warrant, who in his Divine Æneids hath made Dido appear four Ages after her own; wherefore I have believed I might do of some moneths, what he hath done of so many Years, and that I was not to be afraid of erring, as long as I followed so good a guide. I know not likewise whether some may not take it ill, that my Hero and Heronia are not Kings; but besides that the Generous do put no difference between wearing of Crowns, and meriting them, and that my Justiniano is of a Race which hath held the Empire of the Orient, the example of Athenagoras, me-thinks, ought to stop their mouths, seeing Theogines and Charida are but simple Citizens.
Finally, Reader, such Censors may set their hearts at rest for this particular, and leave me there, for I assure them, that Justiniano is of a condition to command over the whole Earth; and that Isabella is of a House, and Gentlewoman good enough, to make Knights of the Rhodes, if she have children enough for it, and that she have a minde thereunto. But setting this jesting aside, and coming to that which regards the Italian names, know that I have put them in their natural pronunciation. And if you see some Turkish words, as Alla, Stamboll, the Egira, and some others, I have done it of purpose, Reader, and have left them as Historical marks, which are to pass rather for embellishments than defests. It is certain, that imposition of names is a thing which every one ought to think of, and whereof nevertheless all the World hath not thought: We have oftentimes seen Greek Names given to barbarous Nations, with as little reason as if I should name an English man Mahomet, and that I should call a Turk Anthony; for my part I have believed that more care is to be had of ones with; and if any one remarks the name of Satrape in this Romanze, let him not magine that my ignorance hath confounded the ancient and new Persia, and that I have done it without Authority, I have an example thereof in Vigenere, who makes use of it in his Illustrations upon Calchondila; and I have learned it of a Persian, which is at Paris, who saith, that by corruption of speech they call yet to this day the Governours of Provinces, Soltan Sitripin.
Now lest some other should further accuse me for having improperly named Ibrahim's House a Palace, since all those of quality are called Seraglioes at Constantinople, I desire you to remember that I have done it by the counsel of two or three excellent persons, who have found as well as my self, that this name of Seraglio would leave an Idea which was not seemly, and that it was fit not to make use of it, but in speaking of the Grand Signior, and that as seldom as might be. But whilest we are speaking of a Palace, I am to advertise you, that such as are not curious to see a goodly building, may pass by the gate of that of my Heroe without entring into it, that is to say, not to read the description of it; it is not because I have handled this matter like to Athenagoras, who playes the Mason In the Temple of Jupiter Hammon; nor like Poliphile in his dreams, who hath set down most strange terms, and all the dimensions of Architecture, whereas I have employed but the Ornaments thereof; it is not because they are not Beauties suitable to the Romanze, as well as to the Epique Poem, since the most famous both of the one and the other have them; nor is it too because mine is not grounded on the History, which assures us that it was the most superb the Turks ever made, as still appears by the remains thereof, which they of that Nation call Serrau Ibrahim.
But to conclude, as inclinations ought to be free, such as love not those beautifull things, for which I have so much passion (as I have said) pass on without looking on them, and leave them to others more curious of those rarities, which I have assembled together with art and care enough. Now Reader, ingenuity being a matter necessary for a man of Honour, and the theft of glory being the basest that may be committed, I must confess here for fear of being accused of it, that the History of the Count of Lavagna, which you shall see in my Book, is partly a Paraphrase of Mascardies; this Adventure falling out in the time whilest I was writing, I judged it too excellent not to set it down, and too well indited for to undertake to do it better; so that regard not this place but as a Translation of that famous Italian, and except the matters, which concern my History, attribute all to that great man, whose Interpreter only I am. And if you finde something not very serious in the Histories of a certain French Marquis, which I have interlaced in my Book, remember if you please, that a Romanze ought to have the Images of all natures; and this diversity makes up the beauties of it, and the delight of the Reader; and at the worst regard it as the sport of a Melancholick, and suffer it without blaming it. But before I make an end, I must pass from matters to the manner of delivering them, and desire you also not to forget, that a Narrative stile ought not to be too much inflated, no more than that of ordinarie conversations; that the more facile it is, the more excellent it is; that it ought to glide along like the Rivers, and not rebound up like Torrents; and that the less constraint it hath, the more perfection it hath; I have endeavoured then to observe a just mediocrity between vicious Elevation, and creeping Lowness; I have contained my self in Narration, and left my self free in Orations and in Passions, and without speaking as extravagants and the vulgar, I have laboured to speak as worthy persons do.
Behold, Reader, that which I had to say to you, but what defence soever, I have imployed, I know that it is of works of this nature, as of a place of War, where notwithstanding all the care the Engineer hath brought to fortifie it, there is alwayes some weak part found, which he hath not dream'd of, and whereby it is assaulted; but this shall not surprize me; for as I have not forgot that I am a man, no more have I forgot that I am subject to erre.