Early Theories of Translation | Page 6

and translated. The
author of the life of St. Etheldred of Ely refers twice, with a certain
pride, to a manuscript preserved in the abbey of Godstow which he
himself has seen and from which he has drawn some of the facts which
he presents. The translator of the alliterative romance of Alexander

"borrowed" various books when he undertook his English rendering.[30]
Earl Rivers, returning from the Continent, brought back a manuscript
which had been lent him by a French gentleman, and set about the
translation of his Dictes and Sayings of the Old Philosophers.[31] It is
not improbable that there was a good deal of borrowing, with its
attendant inconveniences. Even in the sixteenth century Sir Thomas
Elyot, if we may believe his story, was hampered by the laws of
property. He became interested in the acts and wisdom of Alexander
Severus, "which book," he says, "was first written in the Greek tongue
by his secretary Eucolpius and by good chance was lent unto me by a
gentleman of Naples called Padericus. In reading whereof I was
marvelously ravished, and as it hath ever been mine appetite, I wished
that it had been published in such a tongue as more men might
understand it. Wherefore with all diligence I endeavored myself whiles
I had leisure to translate it into English: albeit I could not so exactly
perform mine enterprise as I might have done, if the owner had not
importunately called for his book, whereby I was constrained to leave
some part of the work untranslated."[32] William Paris--to return to the
earlier period--has left on record a situation which stirs the imagination.
He translated the legend of St. Cristine while a prisoner in the Isle of
Man, the only retainer of his unfortunate lord, the Earl of Warwick,
whose captivity he chose to share.
He made this lyfe in ynglishe soo, As he satte in prison of stone, Ever
as he myghte tent therto Whane he had his lordes service done.[33]
One is tempted to let the fancy play on the combination of
circumstances that provided him with the particular manuscript from
which he worked. It is easy, of course, to emphasize overmuch the
scarcity and the inaccessibility of texts, but it is obvious that the
translator's choice of subject was largely conditioned by opportunity.
He did not select from the whole range of literature the work which
most appealed to his genius. It is a far cry from the Middle Ages to the
seventeenth century, with its stress on individual choice. Roscommon's
advice,
Examine how your humour is inclined, And what the ruling passion of

your mind; Then seek a poet who your way does bend, And choose an
author as you choose a friend,
seems absurd in connection with the translator who had to choose what
was within his reach, and who, in many cases, could not sit down in
undisturbed possession of his source.
The element of individual choice was also diminished by the
intervention of friends and patrons. In the fifteenth century, when
translators were becoming communicative about their affairs, there is
frequent reference to suggestion from without. Allowing for interest in
the new craft of printing, there is still so much mention in Caxton's
prefaces of commissions for translation as to make one feel that
"ordering" an English version of some foreign book had become no
uncommon thing for those who owned manuscripts and could afford
such commodities as translations. Caxton's list ranges from The Fayttes
of Armes, translated at the request of Henry VII from a manuscript lent
by the king himself, to The Mirrour of the World, "translated ... at the
request, desire, cost, and dispense of the honorable and worshipful man,
Hugh Bryce, alderman and citizen of London."[34]
One wonders also how the source, thus chosen, presented itself to the
translator's conception. His references to it are generally vague or
confused, often positively misleading. Yet to designate with any
definiteness a French or Latin text was no easy matter. When one
considers the labor that, of later years, has gone to the classification and
identification of old manuscripts, the awkward elaboration of
nomenclature necessary to distinguish them, the complications
resulting from missing pages and from the undue liberties of copyists,
one realizes something of the position of the medieval translator. Even
categories were not forthcoming for his convenience. The religious
legend of St. Katherine of Alexandria is derived from "chronicles";[35]
the moral tale of The Incestuous Daughter has its source in
"romance";[36] Grosseteste's allegory, The Castle of Love, is presented
as "a romance of English ... out of a romance that Sir Robert, Bishop of
Lincoln, made."[37] The translator who explained "I found it written in
old hand" was probably giving as adequate an account of his source as

truth would permit.
Moreover, part