Lily-livered or Work-shy?

The usual prize of 'six guineas was offered for a translation of du Bellay's sonnet to the Cardinal's secretary, Le Breton: , Le Breton est scavant, et scait fort bien escrire En Francois, et Tuscan, en Grec, et en Romain, Hest en son parler plaisant et fort humain, 11 est bon compaignon, et die le mot pour rire.

11 a bon jugement, et spit fort bien eslire Le blanc d'avec le noir: it est bon escrivain, Et pour bien compasser une lettre a la main.

ll'y est excellent autant qu'on scauroit dire.

Mais it est paresseux, et craint tant son mestier, Que, s'il devoit jeuner, ce croy-je, un mois inner, line travailleroit seulement un quart d' heure: Bref, it est si poltron, pour bien le deviser, Que, depuis quatre mois, qu'en ma chambre

it demeure,

Son umbre settlement me fait poltronniser.

This is not one of the best of du Bellay's sonnets, complains S. MacNeill Campbell. So why set it? I chose it as offering an opportunity for colloquial writing. My last two choices demanded an elevated style, and the Ceppede sonnet (Competi- tion No. 399) frightened off some habitual en- trants. This last piece has tempted them back. But I don't believe it is any easier to write a sonnet in flat language, and containing only a few thoughts and images, than to reproduce something more metaphysical that requires greater verbal subtlety. Skill is often enhanced by the sheer magnitude of the challenge. In fact it is the last lines of this du Bellay sonnet that, presenting the greatest problem, also called out the maximum of ingenuity.

The verb poltronniser is not given in most dic- tionaries. It was not, however, as Barbara Roe takes it, invented by du Bellay. Marot had used it before him. But it has a somewhat 'jabber- wocky' look, and justifies a bit of extra colloquial freedom. D. L. L. Clarke, taking the obvious rhyme shirk-work, ends : 'The man's mere shadow makes me shy off work'; J. E. Cunningham, re- garding the word as a coinage, ends : 'Just by his shadow I've become work-shy,' and W. Cuthbert Robb translates it as 'makes me twerpish.' This last liberty would be more excusable if he had not ended line four with 'jovial withal.' Mr. Campbell similarly includes iwis and chore in a single verse. You can't have it both ways.

The first prize of three guineas goes to Barbara Roe, who admirably conveys du Bellay's sub- irony; the second of two guineas to P. A. T. O'Donnell—I'm not certain whether 'indite' isn't a bad choice, and his excellent ending is a little far from the French; the third of one guinea is for Miss A. M. Davis, a little more literary in her language but delightful in her final lines.

Among runners-up, besides those already re- ferred to, H. Hardman would have had a share if he had sustained the excellence of his octet to the end. I cannot see how he makes jeuner mean dispensed, nor can 1 feel that 'tween me and you in line 12 is anything but a weak-get-out. There is very little punch in a concluding rhyme you-too. Still, his sonnet is worth printing for the colloquial ease of its opening:

This learned man, Le Breton here, can write

First-rate Italian, Latin, French, and Greek.

His talk is witty, human, not a streak Of stiffness there—he makes you laugh all right. His judgment's sound, he can sift black from white.

What's more, he has the scrivener's technique; His gift for litter-draftingjs unique, Or near enough for any appetite. But he's a sluggard, so dislikes his job That if dispensed f'r a month I bet a bob

He wouldn't stoop to fifteen minutes' grind;

He's lily-livered, and 'tween me and you In four months' stay at my address I find His mere shade turns me lily-livered too.

J. A. Lindon starts with a swing, and pulls off a daring rhyme (showman-acumen), but flops at the end (pusillanimous-thus). Nothing is so jarring as a redundant 'thus' introduced only for the rhyme's sake. It stands out like an odd button on a smart waistcoat. Finally, Miss N. Chisholm is very racy, but at moments forgets her model. I enjoyed her opening : The learned Breton, the cleric secretary, Fluent in French, Italian, and Latin and Greek, Of polished address, so relaxed, so literary, Always belonging, so clever, so devilish quick.

But is this the Cardinal's secretary, or some great- grand-nephew of Browning's Bishop Blougram? If a competitor decides not to be literal, there must at least be some faithfulness to the spirit of the poem. This necessity rules out the Lallans version of 'D. Drummond, who renders le mot pour rire as 'crack as herty as yer Hogmonay.' This treat- ment, might suit Villon, but one can't imagine a modern du Bellay writing anything but accepted English..

One final plea. Will competitors please forswear those worn poeticisms : wight, troth, eke, doth, for which their translations are always and immediately sorted into the pile of Impossibles.' PRIZES

(BARBARA ROE)

Le Breton is a scholar, and can write French, Tuscan, Greek and Latin, all the four; j

Of pleasant, friendly manner, he is quite A genial fellow, and a wit, what's more. His judgment is so sound, no one is better At telling black from white; he can compose

And write a truly admirable letter—

That is, as far as anybody knows. But by his work he's plainly terrified : If made to fast a month, he couldn't bear More than ten minutes' duty, I would swear, For his poltroonery can't be denied : After four months of him, if I go near His very shadow, I'm poltroonified,

(P. A. T. O'DONNELL)

Le Breton is a scholar. He can write Excellent French, Italian, Latin, Greek. He's as good company as one could seek,

Talks affably and warmly, keeps it light. to Hew'shisther.ewd as well, and soon tells black fret His style is most accomplished—not to speak

Of penmanship, in which his skill's unique; A fairer letter no one could indite.

He's idle, though, and, faced with duty, shies. He'd fast a solid month, it's my surmise, As soon as work a quarter of an hour.

He's such a shirker—to epitomise

My room-mate of four months-1've learnt 10

power Of his mere shadow to immobilise.

(MISS A. M. DAVIS) A learned man, Le Breton; he can write With skill in French, Italian, Latin, Greek; No pedant he, his talking is delight; He charms with wit; 'tis joy with him to speak. With flawless taste this man can well discern Good grain from chaff; a letter he'll dittpatch With graceful ease, as far as one can learn, The writing peerless—none his powers can mat"" But laziness decoys him from his work— Thus, even though he were condemned to fast Fully a month, yet still his tasks he'd shirk, And idle every day from first to last. Four months my guest; so lily-livered he, His very shadow lily-livers me.