Translators From England

"And even as when the greedie Grewnde doth course the sielie Hare, Amiddes the plaine and champion fielde without all covert bare, Both twaine of them doe straine themselves and lay on footemanship, Who may best runne with all his force the tother to outstrip, The t'one for safetie of his lyfe, the tother for his pray, The Grewnde aye prest with open mouth to beare the Hare away, Thrusts forth his snoute and gyrdeth out and at hir loynes doth snatch, As though he would at everie stride betweene his teeth hir latch."

"In shooting have I stedfast hand, but surer hand had hee That made this wound within my heart that heretofore was free. Of Phisicke and of surgerie I found the Artes for neede, The powre of everie herbe and plant doth of my gift proceede. Nowe wo is me that nere an herbe can heale the hurt of love And that the Artes that others helpe their Lord doth helpelesse prove."

"With skill, heede, and judgment, this worke must be read, For else to the Reader it standes in small stead."

"Forasmuch as the Ceremonie of bringing of our Freewill offeringes to a place chosen for that purpose is done away, if wee intend to offer such sacrifices as may bee acceptable to God, every [one] of us must doe almesdeedes according to his abilitie, and thinke thus with himselfe: "Go too, my God hath given mee chaunge of meates, I eate one kinde of porredge to day and another kinde to morrowe, and yet might I content my selfe all my lyfe long with bread and water. But God of his bounteousnesse giueth mee moreover what meates soever I lyke of best, yea and chaunge of them also; so as if I bee weary of one meate, I may take another according to my abilitie. Seeing then that he dealeth so with me, what an unthankfulnesse is it for mee to despise him that sheweth himselfe so liberall towardes mee?" True it is that our so dooing is neither here nor there (as they say,) in respect of God: the service that wee doe him doth neither amend him nor appaire him: but he giveth us the poore among us, to bee succored at our handes, to the ende that none of us should so glutte himselfe by cramming his owne bellie, as to despise others that are in necessitie, but that wee shoulde bee well advised to make an offering unto God of the thinges that he hath put into our handes, and that the same might become holy by that meanes."

"Hope made Apollo swift, And feare did make the Mayden fleete devising how to shift. Howebeit he that did pursue of both the swifter went, As furthred by the feathred wings that Cupid had him lent."

"Before the Sea and Lande were made, and Heaven that all doth hide, In all the worlde one onely face of nature did abide, Which Chaos hight, a huge rude heape, and nothing else but even A heavie lump and clottred clod of seedes togither driven, Of things at strife among themselves, for want of order due."

"As Phoebus would have spoken more, away Penaeis stale With fearefull steppes, and left him in the midst of all his tale."

"Hir goodly yellowe golden haire that hanged loose and slacke, With every puffe of ayre did wave and tosse behinde hir backe. Hir running made hir seeme more fayre."

"A thousand doltish geese we might have spared, A thousand witless heads death might have found, A taken them for whom no man had cared, And laid them low in deep oblivious ground: But fortune favors fool, as old men say, And lets them live, and takes the wise away."

"The oftener seen, the more I lust, The more I lust, the more I smart, The more I smart, the more I trust, The more I trust, the heavier heart, The heavy heart breeds mine unrest; Thy absence, therefore, like I best."

"Give money me, take friendship whoso list For friends are gone come once adversity, When money yet remaineth safe in chest, That quickly can thee bring from misery. Fair face show friends when riches do abound; Come time of proof, farewell, they must away. Believe me well, they are not to be found If God but send thee once a lowering day. Gold never starts aside, but in distress, Finds ways enough to ease thine heaviness."

"Where my caravan has rested, Flowers I leave you on the grass. All the flowers of love and memory, You will find them when you pass."

"Rest, weary soul! The penalty is borne, the ransom paid, For all thy sins full satisfaction made; Strive not to do thyself what Christ has done, Claim the free gift, and make the joy thine own. No more by pangs of guilt and fear distrest, Rest, sweetly rest!"

"Rest, weary heart! From all thy silent griefs and secret pain, Thy profitless regrets and longings vain; Wisdom and love have ordered all the past, All shall be blessedness and light at last; Cast off the cares that have so long opprest,— Rest, sweetly rest!"

"The great religious works of the ns are known to us from documents which do not date from an earlier period than the seventh century In the palaces that were unearthed at , there were found, scattered throusjh the mounds of earth, thousands of s written in the , and in many cases with colophons bearing the name of and the statement that he had caused them to be included in his library. This monarch reigned from 669 to about 625, and, though one of the last kings to occupy the , he made strenuous efforts to preserve the ancient literature of and Assyria. His scribes visited specially the ancient cities and temples in the south, and made copies of literary compositions of all classes which they found there. These they collected and arranged in his palace at Nineveh, and it is from them that the greater part of our knowledge of is derived."

"The great n poem, or series of legends, which narrates the , was termed by the Assyrians and s , “When in the height,” from the two opening words of the text. The poem consisted of some nine hundred and ninety-four lines, and was divided into seven sections, each of which was inscribed upon a separate . ... The poem embodies the beliefs of the Babylonians and Assyrians concerning the origin of the universe; it describes the coming forth of the gods from chaos, and tells the story of how the forces of disorder, represented by the primeval water-gods and , were overthrown by and respectively, and how Marduk, after completing the triumph of the gods over chaos, proceeded to create the world and man. The poem is known to us from portions of several Assyrian and late-Babylonian copies of the work, and from extracts from it written out upon the so-called “practice-tablets,” or students’ exercises, by pupils of the Babylonian scribes. The Assyrian copies of the work are from the great library which was founded at by , king of Assyria from 668 to about 626; the Babylonian copies and extracts were inscribed during the period of the kings of the Neo-Babylonian and Persian periods; and one copy of the Seventh Tablet may probably be assigned to as late a date as the . All the tablets and fragments, which have hitherto been identified as inscribed with portions of the text of the poem, are preserved in the . From the time of the first discovery of fragments considerable attention has been directed towards them, for not only are the legends themselves the principal source of our knowledge of the , but passages in them bear a striking resemblance to the cognate narratives in the Book of Genesis concerning the creation of the world."

"The greater part of our knowledge of early has been derived from the wonderfully successful series of excavations carried out by the late at , ... between 1877 and 1900, and continued for some months in 1903 by Captain (now Commandant) . These mounds mark the site of the city of , and lie a few miles to the north-east of the modern village of , to the east of the , and about an hour’s ride from the present course of the stream. It is evident, however, that the city was built upon the stream, which at this point may originally have formed a branch of the Euphrates, ... for there are traces of a dry channel upon its western side."

"Dear Tom, this brown jug that now foams with mild ale, (In which I will drink to sweet Nan of the Vale) Was once Toby Filpot, a thirsty old soul As e'er drank a bottle, or fathomed a bowl."

""I'll live tomorrow," 'tis not wise to say:'Twill be too late tomorrow—live today."

"He, who the rules of temperance neglects, From a good cause may produce vile effects."

"Happiness is a stranger to mankind, And, like to a forc'd motion, it is ever Strongest at the beginning; then languishing With time, grows weary of our company."

"For 'tis not where we lie, but whence we fell; The loss of heaven's the greatest pain in hell."

"Friendship's an empty name, made to deceive Those whose good nature tempts them to believe: There's no such thing on earth; the best that we Can hope for here is faint neutrality."

"He is a fool who thinks by force or skill To turn the current of a woman's will."

"He ought not to pretend to friendship's name, Who reckons not himself and friend the same."

"A fop? In this brave, licentious age To bring his musty morals on the stage? Rhime us to reason? and our lives redress In metre, as Druids did the savages."

"The common prouerbe sayth, that he which counteth before his hoste, must recken twice."

"Other shot forth theyr Boltes, and wyth theyr Prouerbes proceedyng from their malicious Mouthes thwited the pore Women at their pleasure."

"The unhappy Baron... that Nyght had Neyther Breade nor Broth, and therefore he fared accordynge to the Prouerbe: He that goeth to bed supperlesse, lyeth in his Bed restlesse."

"... the Common Prouerb may be applied: the common Courtier’s life is like a golden misery, and the faithfull seruant an Asse perpetuall."

"No more to fabled names confined, To thee, supreme, all-perfect mind, My thoughts direct their flight: Wisdom's thy gift, and all her force From thee derived, unchanging source Of intellectual light! O send her sure, her steady ray To regulate my doubtful way Through life's perplexing road, The mists of error to control, And through its gloom direct my soul To happiness and good!"

"Harmony, with ev'ry grace, Plays in the fair proportions of her face."

"Come, blessed peace, we once again implore, And let our pains be less, or power more."

"And as we talked, there gathered at the gate People, as me thought, of very poor estate, With bag and staff, both crooked, lame and blind, Scabby and scurvy, pock-eaten flesh and rind, Lousy and scald, and pillèd like as apes, With scantly a rag for to cover their shapes, Breechless, bare-footed, all stinking with dirt, With a thousand of tatters drabbling to the skirt, Boyes, girles, and luskish strong knaves, Diddering and daddering, leaning on their staves."

"I have been in love, and in debt, and in drink, This many and many a year."

"Here lies a civil servant. He was civil To everyone, and servant to the devil."

"When all the Blandishments of Life are gone, The Coward sneaks to Death, the Brave live on."

"Her mouth, which a smile, Devoid of all guile, Half opens to view, Is the bud of the rose In the morning that blows, Impearl’d with the dew.More fragrant her breath Than the flow’r-scented heath At the dawning of day; The hawthorn in bloom, The lily’s perfume, Or the blossoms of may."

"ALPHEUS: Bring water foorth, and bind with filets soft there altars round Burne vervine fat and full of juice, and frankincense the best, That I may try to turne away the right wits of my husband With sacrifices magical! of witchcraft and inchantment. Nothing is wanting now but charms which woonders great do worke O you my charms bring Daphnis from the town, bring Daphnis home. Charms able are from heaven high to fetch the moone adowne, With charms did Circe turne and change Ulisses fellowes shapes With charming is the snake so cold in medowes burst to peeces: O you my charms bring Daphnis from the town, bring Daphnis home. I twist for thee even first of all these threeds in number three, In colour threefold differing, and thrise about these altars I draw thy lively counterfet: God joies in number od: O you my charms bring Daphnis from the town, bring Daphnis home."

"There's no dallying with love Though he be a child and blind; Then let none the danger prove, Who would to himself be kind: Smile he does when thou dost play, But his smiles to death betray.Lately with the Boy I sported; Love I did not, yet love feigned; Had not mistress, yet I courted; Sighed I did, yet was not pained; Till at last this love in jest, Proved in earnest my unrest.When I saw my fair one first, In a feigned fire I burned; But true love my poor heart pierced, When her eyes on mine she turned: So a real wound I took, For my counterfeited look.Slighted Love, his skill to show, Struck me with a mortal dart; Then I learnt that 'gainst his bow, Vain are the weak helps of art; And thus captived, found that true Doth dissembled love pursue."

"How poor remembrances are statues, tombs, And other monuments that men erect To princes, which remain in closèd rooms Where but a few behold them, in respect Of Books, that to the universal eye Show how they lived; the other where they lie!"

"England is the paradise of women, the purgatory of men, and the hell of horses."

"Since honour from the honourer proceeds, How well do they deserve that memorize And leave in Books, for all posterities The names of worthies and their virtuous deeds."

"In euery daunse, of a moste auncient custome, there daunseth to gether a man and a woman, holding eche other, by the hande or the arme, whiche betokeneth concorde. Nowe it behouethe the daunsers and also the beholders of them to knowe all qualities incident to a man, and also, all qualities to a woman lyke wyse appertaynynge.A man in his naturall perfection is fiers, hardy, stronge in opinion, couaitous of glorie, desirous of knowlege, appetiting by generation to brynge forthe his semblable. The good nature of a woman is to be milde, timerouse, tractable, benigne, of sure remembrance, and shamfast. Diuers other qualities of eche of them mought be founde, out, but these be moste apparaunt, and for this time sufficient.Wherfore, whan we beholde a man and a woman daunsinge to gether, let us suppose there to be a concorde of all the saide dualities, beinge ioyned to gether, as I haue set them in ordre. And the meuing of the man wolde be more vehement, of the woman more delicate, and with lasse aduauncing of the body, signifienge the courage and strenthe that oughte to be in a man, and the pleasant sobrenesse that shulde be in a woman. And in this wise fiersenesse ioyned with mildenesse maketh Seueritie; audacitie with timerositie maketh Magnanimitie; wilfull opinion and tractabilitie (which is to be shortly persuaded and meued) makethe Constance a vertue; Couaitise of Glorie adourned with benignititie causeth honour; desire of knowlege with sure remembrance procureth Sapienee; Shamfastnes ioyned to appetite of generation maketh Continence, whiche is a meane betwene Chastilie and inordinate luste. These qualities, in this wise beinge knitte to gether, and signified in the personages of man and woman daunsinge, do expresse or sette out the figure of very nobilitie; whiche in the higher astate it is contained, the more. excellent is the vertue in estimation."

"I haue nowe enterprised to describe in our vulgare tunge the fourme of a iuste publike weale: whiche mater I haue gathered as well moste noble autours (grekes and latynes) as by myne owne experience, I beinge continually trayned in some dayly affaires of the publike weale of this your moste noble realme all mooste from my chyldhode."

"A gentil man, er he take a cooke in to his seruice, he wyll firste diligently examine hym, howe many sortes of meates, potages, and sauces, he can perfectly make, and howe well he can season them, that they may be bothe pleasant and nourishynge; yea and if it be but a fauconer, he wyll scrupulously enquire what skyll he hath in feedyng, called diete, and kepyng of his hauke from all sickenes, also how he can reclaime her and prepare her to flyght. And to suche a cooke or fauconer, whom he findeth expert, he spareth nat to gyue moche wages with other bounteous rewardes. But of a schole maister, to whom he will committe his childe, to be fedde with lernynge and instructed in vertue, whose lyfe shall be the principall monument of his name and honour, he neuer maketh forther enquirie but where he may haue a schole maister; and with howe litel charge; and if one be perchance founden, well lerned, but he will nat take paynes to teache without he may haue a great salary, he than speketh. nothing more, or els saith, What shall so moche wages be gyuen to a schole maister whiche wolde kepe me two seruantes? to whom maye be saide these wordes, that by his sonne being wel lerned he shall receiue more commoditie and also worship than by the seruice of a hundred cokes and fauconers."

"Lorde god, howe many good and clene wittes of children be nowe a dayes perisshed by ignorant schole maisters. Howe litle substancial doctrine is apprehended by the fewenesse of good gramariens? Not withstanding I knowe that there be some well lerned, whiche haue taught, and also do teache, but god knoweth a fewe, and they with small effecte, hauing therto no comforte, theyr aptist and moste propre scholers, after they be well instructed in speakyng latine, and understanding some poetes, being taken from theyr schole by their parentes, and either be brought to the courte, and made lakayes or pages, or els are bounden prentises; wherby the worshyp that the maister, aboue any reward, couaiteih to haue by the praise of his scholer, is utterly drowned; wherof I haue herde schole maisters, very well lerned, of goode righte complayne. But yet (as I sayd) the fewenesse of good gramariens is a great impediment of doctrine. ...Undoubtedly ther be in this realme many well lerned, whiche if the name of a schole maister were nat so moche had in contempte, and also if theyr labours with abundant salaries mought be requited, were righte sufficient and able to induce their herers to excellent lernynge, so they be nat plucked away grene, and er they be in doctrine sufficiently rooted. But nowe a dayes, if to a bachelar or maister of arte studie of philosophie waxeth tediouse, if he haue a spone full of latine, he wyll shewe forth a hoggesheed without any lernynge, and offre to teache grammer and expoune noble writers, and to be in the roome of a maister: he wyll, for a small salarie, sette a false colour of lernyng on propre wittes, whiche wyll be wasshed away with one shoure of raine. For if the children be absent from schole by the space of one moneth, the best lerned of them will uneth tell wheder Fato, wherby Eneas was brought in to Itali, were other a man, a horse, a shyppe, or a wylde goose. Al thoughe their maister wyll perchance auaunte hym selfe to be a good philosopher."

"About a well-spring, in a little mead, Of tender grasses full and flow’rets fair, There sat three youngling angels as it were Their loves recounting; and for each, indeed, Her sweet face shaded, ’gainst the noonday need, A spray of green, that bound her golden hair; Whilst, in and out by turns, a frolic air The two clear colours blended at its heed.And one, after a little, thus heard I Say to her mates, ‘Lo, if by chance there lit The lovers of each one of us hereby, Should we flee hence for fear or quiet sit?’ Whereto the twain made answer, ‘Who should fly From such a fortune sure were scant of wit.’"

"Straight and swift the swallows fly To the sojourn of the sun; All the golden year is done, All the flower-time flitted by; Thro’ the boughs the witch-winds sigh; But heart’s summer is begun; Life and love at last are one; Love-lights glitter in the sky. Summer days were soon outrun With the setting of the sun; Love’s delight is never done. Let the turn-coat roses die; We are lovers, Love and I; In Love’s lips my roses lie."

"The dew of thy birth is of the womb of the morning."