CHAPTER VII
Translation of Rabelais
HE foundation on which Sir Thomas Urquhart's literary fame securely rests is his translation into English of the first three books of the works of Rabelais. Of these the first and second appeared in two separate volumes in the year 1653—exactly a century after the death of the great French satirist—and the third was published by Pierre Antoine Motteux in 1693, long after Sir Thomas's own death.[232]
The difficulty, singularity, and obscurity of the writings of Rabelais had probably been hindrances in the way of their being presented to the English public in their own tongue; for, though the register of the Stationers' Company preserves a record of two attempts at translation, these seem to have been but fragmentary, and to have dropped still-born from the press. The works themselves are not known to be extant, and nothing more than the bare name of them survives.
The difficulties which lie in the way of the ordinary reader who wishes to become acquainted with the works of Rabelais are very considerable.[233] The fantastical style of the satirist, his countless allusions to contemporary persons and events, his out-of-the-way learning, the care with which he conceals at such length the seriousness of his purpose, and the incredible grossness of manners which so often disfigures his pages, are obstacles which can with difficulty be surmounted. The last-mentioned characteristic is, indeed, a grave and ingrained fault, which must for ever be a slur upon the writer's fame. Yet we may say of him what Don Pedro says of Benedick, "The man doth fear God howsoever it seems not in him by some large jests he will make"; or what Mrs Blower in St Ronan's Well says of her deceased husband, "He was a merry man, but he had the root of the matter in him for a' his light way of speaking." Coleridge—"the brother," according to Mr Birrell, "whose praise is throughout all the churches"—speaks of Rabelais in very high terms indeed; "Beyond a doubt," he says, "he was among the deepest, as well as boldest thinkers of his age. His buffoonery was not merely Brutus' rough stick, which contained a rod of gold: it was necessary as an amulet against the monks and legates.[234] Never was there a more plausible, and seldom, I am persuaded, a less appropriate line than the thousand times quoted
'Rabelais laughing in his easy chair'