At the end of the book are some forms, in Dutch and English, of mercantile letters, among them a specimen bill of lading of which I quote a portion as an example of the gracious way in which business was done in old and simpler days:—
I, J.P. of Amsterdam, master under God of my ship called the Saint Peter at this present lying ready in the river of Amsterdam to saile with the first goode winde which God shall give toward London, where my right unlading shal be, acknowledge and confes that I have receaved under the hatches of my foresaid ship of you S.J., merchaunt, to wit: four pipes of oile, two chests of linnen, sixteen buts of currents, one bale of canvase, five bals of pepper, thirteen rings of brasse wyer, fiftie bars of iron, al dry and wel conditioned, marked with this marke standing before, all which I promise to deliver (if God give me a prosperous voyage with my said ship) at London aforesaid, to the worshipful Mr. A.J. to his factour or assignes, paying for the freight of the foresaid goods 20 fs. by the tun.
Quaintness and humour are not confined to the ancient phrase-books. An English-Dutch conversational manual from which the languages are still learned has a specimen “dialogue” in a coach, which is opened by the gentleman remarking genially and politely to his fellow-passenger, a lady, “Madame, shall we arrange our legs”. Page 274
It occurs to me that very little Dutch has found its way into these pages. Let me therefore give the first stanza of the national song, “Voor Vaderland en Vorst”:—
Wien Neêrlandsch bloed in de aderen vloeit,
Van vreemde smetten vrij,
Wiens hart voor land en Koning gloeit,
Verhef den sang als wij:
Hij stel met ons, vereend van zin,
Met onbeklemde borst,
Het godgevallig feestlied in
Voor Vaderland en Vorst.
These are brave words. A very pedestrian translation runs thus:—
Who Ne’erland’s blood feel nobly flow,
From foreign tainture free,
Whose hearts for king and country glow,
Come, raise the song as we:
With breasts serene, and spirits gay,
In holy union sing
The soul-inspiring festal lay,
For Fatherland and King.
And now a specimen of really mellifluous Dutch. “How would you like,” is the timely question of a daily paper this morning, as I finish this chapter, “to be hit by a ‘snellpaardelooszoondeerspoorwegpitroolrijtung?’ That is what would happen to you if you were run down by a motor-car in Holland. The name comes from ‘snell,’ rapid; ‘paardeloos,’ horseless; ‘zoondeerspoorweg,’ without rails; ‘pitroolrijtung,’ driven by petroleum. Only a Dutchman can pronounce it.”
Let me spice this chapter by selecting from the pages of proverbs in Dutch and English a few which seem to me most excellent. No nation has bad proverbs; the Dutch have some very good ones. Page 275
Many cows, much trouble.