Amadis of Gaul

the book itself is exceedingly rare, was from the library of Mr. Heber, a gentleman whose liberality in the disposal of a very valuable collection, leaves his friends less reason to regret that the public libraries of England should be more difficult of access, and consequently less useful, than those of any other country in Europe.

The Comte de Tressan in his free translation, has compleatly modernized and naturalized the character of the romance: his book is what he designed to make it, an elegant work; but the manners and feelings of the days of chivalry are not to be found there; they are all hidden under a varnish of French sentiment. He has scoured the old shield; the glitter which it has gained does not compensate for the loss of its sharpness, nor for the lines that are effaced.

1526. His work is exceedingly inaccurate. He has not mentioned that of 1547. I should conjecture, that there must have been an edition printed at Medina del Campo.

The story of Amadis was certainly popular before the date he has assigned for its first publication. When the Spaniards first saw Mexico, they said to each other it was like the places of enchantment which were spoken of in the book of Amadis. This was in 1549. There is another passage in the excellent history of Bernal Diaz which seems to imply that they knew the original Amadis, not the work of Montalvo; he says they compared a boastful man who did nothing in battle to Agrayes. Llamavamosle que era otro Agrajes sin obras. It should seem that the character of Agrayes had been modified by Montalvo. Yet, could a manuscript story have been so commonly known as to be the talk of the soldiery?

I should have abridged from the English translation had it been accurate, that the character of the language might have assimilated better with the work. But the English version, which bears. date as late as 1618, a century after the publication of the book in Spain, has been made from the French; every trait of manners which were foreign to D'Herberay, or obsolete in his time, is accordingly omitted, and all the foolish anachronisms and abominable obscenities of the Frenchman are retained. I kept my eye upon it as I proceeded, for the purpose of preserving its language where it was possible. A modern style would have altered the character of the book; as far as was in my power I have avoided that fault, not by intermixing obsolete words, but by rendering the original structure of sentence as literally as was convenient, and by rejecting modern phraseology and forms of period. It cannot be supposed that I have uniformly succeeded in this attempt: the old wine must taste of the new cask.

The names which have a meaning in the original have not been translated. I have used Beltenebros instead of the Beautiful Darkling, or the Fair Forlorn; Florestan instead of Forester; El Patin instead of the Emperor Gosling; as we speak of Barbarossa, not Red-Beard; Bocanegra, not Black Muzzle; St. Peter, not Stone the Apostle.

The praise of accuracy is all to which I lay claim for the present work; and that I claim con

fidently. Perhaps others may not see the beauties which I perceive; the necessity of dwelling upon every sentence has produced in me a love for the whole. The reader will pass rapidly where I have lingered and loitered; he who drives post through a country sees not the same beauties as the foottraveller. But the merit of the work itself is not now to be ascertained, the verdict of ages has decided that. Amadis of Gaul is among prose, what Orlando Furioso is among metrical romances, not the oldest of its kind, but the best.

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