My interpretation of Montaigne by Florio, “thick folio, large copy, old calf, neat, scarce, 1632,” and its predecessor of 1613 that lend such dignity to their companions in old calf, were not obtained without persistent efforts. Sometimes I think many of my old books are not unlike Sir Roger de Coverley’s fox, whose brush cost him fifteen hours’ riding, carried him through half a dozen counties, killed him a brace of geldings, and lost above half his dogs. But one’s rare editions need no brass nails to record their bewitching title-pages or mark their place amid the vistas of the shelves.
Preferable to the editions of 1613 and 1603 is the later edition, the former lacking the index, though containing the fine portrait of the translator by Hole. Florio’s strong and masterly English has well reflected the original. I regard his translation as far superior to the more generally accepted version by Cotton. Cotton is frequently more literal; but Florio, despite not unfrequent interpolations and slight departures, comes nearer to the coloring and picturesqueness of the text. Take the spirited passage of the hare and the harrier, for instance:
Ce liéure qu’ vn leurier imagine en songe: apres lequel nous le voyons haleter en dormant, allonger la queuë, secoüer les jarrets, & representer parfaitement les mouuemens de sa course: c’est vn liéure sans poil & sans os.—Book II, chap. xii.
The Hare that a Grey-Hound imagines in his sleep, after which we see him pant so whilst he sleeps, stretch out his Tail, shake his Legs, and perfectly represent all the motions of a Course, is a Hare without Furr and without Bones.—Cotton’s translation.
That Hare, which a grey-hound imagineth in his dreame, after whom as he sleepeth we see him bay, quest, yelp, and snort, stretch out his taile, shake his legs, and perfectly represent the motions of his course; the same is a Hare without bones, without haire.—Florio’s translation.
Equally well rendered, and an excellent specimen of the translator’s style, is the passage of Volumnius referring to the election of certain Roman citizens as consuls: “They are men borne unto warre, of high spirits, of great performance, and able to effect anything; but rude, simple, and unarted in the combat of talking; minds truly consulare. They only are good Pretors, to do justice in the Citie that are subtile, cautelous, well-spoken, wily, and lip-wise.” Florid and redundant, Florio nevertheless employed his words as Walton did his frog; and in numerous passages he out-Montaignes Montaigne, his vocabulary, as Montaigne says of the Italian cook’s, being “stuffed with rich, magnificent words and well-couched phrases; yea, such as learned men use and employ in speaking of the Government of an Empire.”
Speaking of Florio’s rendition, the sonnet Concerning the Honour of Bookes—
Since honour from the honorer proceeds,