greatly. Have ye not desire to laugh35 to see me lie so weill, at the least to dissembill so weill, and to tell hym truth betuix handis. He shewd me almaist all that is in the name of 36 the byschop and Suderland, and yit I have never toucheit ane word of that ye shewd me, but allanelie by force flattering, and to pray hym to assure hymselfe of me. And by playning on the byschop, I have drawn it all out of hyms. Ye have heard the rest. We are coupled wyth twa false races, the devill sunder us, and God knitte us together for ever39, for the maist faythfull couple that ever he unitid. 35 Have ye not desire to laugh.] N'avez vous pas envie de rire. 36 In the name of.] Au nom de, in the bishop's behalf, in the English version, where the idiom is dropt, 37 "of By force flattering.] Not as Whitaker supposes, necessity flattering and to pray him," (ii. 130.) but a literal translation of the colloquial French phrase, force argent, force blé, force amis, a power of money, &c. mais seulement par force (de) flatter et le prier de s'assurer de moi; and the English version, "by much flattering," confirms this remark of Lord Hailes. Miscel. Rem. 21. 38 Drawn it all out of hym.] Here the difference between the two versions affords a convincing proof of the French original. After two unsuccessful attempts to substitute something equivalent, the English gives us the French phrase verbatim; tirer les vers du nez; while the Scotch adheres to the words, "I have drawn it all out of him;" but rejects the proverbial idiom, les vers du nez, as unintelligible when translated. The passage refers apparently, not to Stewart Bishop of Caithness, Lennox's brother and Sutherland's brother-in-law, (Whitaker, ii. 129.) but to Gordon Bishop of Galloway, Sutherland's cousin, and uncle to Huntley, and truth therewith. bishop's behalf and of Sunderland, without touching any word unto him of that which you had told me, but only be much flattering him, and praying him to assure himself of me; and by my complaining of the bishop I have disclosed all, I have known what I would. I have taken the worms out of his nose. You have heard the rest. We are tied to with two false races. The good yeere untye us from them. God forgive me, and God knit us together for ever, for the most faithful couple that e'er he did knit together. This is my faith, I will die in it. Excuse it if I write ill, you must guess the one half I can not do withal, for I am ill at ease, He hath almost told me all on the to Bothwell's wife, to whom, by a natural transition, the queen immediately returns. 39 The devill sunder us, and God knitte us together for ever.] In the English version, "May the good year untye us;" the common corrupt expression of the age for the goujere, or venereal disease. "What the good year?" occurs repeatedly in Shakspeare, and in other writers of the same period, as a modest expression for, What the pox. See Steevens' note on Lear, v. 3. Each version therefore employs a different proverbial expression for the same French imprecation. "We are coupled," says Mary to Bothwell, "wyth twa false races;" (her husband, and his wife)" the devill sunder us (God forgive me, Eng.) and God knit us together for ever, for the maist faythful couple that ever he united." Nous sommes liés avec deux fausses races, le diable nous sépare, (Dieu me pardonne) et Dieu nous noue ensemble pour jamais, pour le plus fidèle couple qu'il ait jamais noué. And this last phrase occurs in her letter to Elizabeth, pour plus surement nouer cet noeud. Anderson, iv. part i. p. 50. 1 This is my fayth I will die in it40. Excuse if I write evill, ye may gess the halfe of it, but I can not mende it, because I am not weill at ease; and yet very glad to writ unto you quhen the rest are sleepand, sithe I can not sleipe as they do, and as I would desire, that is in your armes, my deare love12, qubom I pray God to preserve from all evyll, and send you repose, I am gangand to seke myne till the 40 This is my fayth, I will die in it.] C'est ma foi, je veux y mourir; and her last letter to her almoner, before her execution, contains "Protestation de ma foi, dans laquelle je veux mourir." Mad. Keralio, v. 433. 41 Excuse if I write evil, ye may gess the halfe of it, but I cannot mend it, because I am not weill at ease.] Excusez si j'écris mal. Il faut en deviner la moitié, mais je n'y saurois que faire (mend it, Scot. do with all, Eng.) car je ne suis pas bien a mon aise; and again, excuse this evil wryting," at the conclusion of the letter. 66 But these are inserted as excuses for the bad execution of the forgery, or for its difference from her real hand, Whitaker, ii. 132. Her hand print, was writing, as it was formed in imitation of Italic and glad to write unto you when other folke be asleep, seeing that I can not do as they do, according to my desire, that is between your arms, my dear life, who I beseech God to preserve from all ill, and send you good rest, as I go to seek mine, till to morrow in the morning, that I will end my Bible. But it grieveth me that it should let me from writing unto you of news cest office ou a tout autre exercise: to Eliz. Nov. 6th 1569, ib. "Excuse my evill writing, for I never used it before. I am hasted," and in the postscript, "excuse my evil writing this first time," to Knolles, Sept. 1, 1568, ib. No such excuses occur in any preceding letters, and these were written about a year after her letters to Bothwell had been produced in the Scottish parliament. But in these letters she excuses her evil writing in the same words as in her long letter from Glasgow, written to Bothwell in haste at midnight, when her hand-writing must have degenerated into a mere scrawl. In all her letters, if the three first lines are regularly formed like Italic print, (as in the Plate, No. 1.) the rest successively deviate into a straggling distorted scrawl, (ibid. No. 2.) and are almost utterly illegible when written in haste; which explains the obscurity and frequent difference of the two versions, as the original was so hastily and badly written, that it was necessary to guess the one half. 42 That is in your armes, my deare love,] life, Eng. C'est dan vos bras ma chere vie; in which the supposed indelicacy of the translation disappears; but the whole sentence is peculiarly French. Ma chere vie que, je prie Dieu à garder de tout mal et vous envoyer bon repos, comme je m'en vais chercher le mien jusqu'à demain matin. The queen meant to conclude for the night; and the same conclusion is observable in her letters to Elizabeth and others. 44 morne, quhen I shall end my Bybill 48, but I am fascheit that it stoppies me to write newis of my self unto you, because it is so lang. Advertise me quhat ye have deliberat to do in the matter ye know upon thys point, to the end that we may understand uthers weill, that nothing thairthrough be spilt. I am irkit and ganging to sleipe, and yit I cease not to paper, insamickle as restis thairof 45. this pokkish man be 46, that causes me have sa mickle paine for without him I shold have ane far plesander subject to discours upoun. He is not overmickle diformit, yet he hes received verie mickle 47. He hes almaist slayne me with his breth 48, it is werse then your scrible all thys Waryed might 43 My Bybill.] Converted into bylle by Goodall, from a misprint of Cecil's or Murray's Diary, in Anderson, ii. 272. Goodall's emendation would only prove what was never disputed, that the present French, professedly a translation from the Latin, is not the original. But in the original MS. the Diary has," and in this tyme wraytt hir byble and utheris letteres to Bothwell;" and its concurrence with the Scotch and English translations, assures us that such was the original word. Lord Hailes conjectures that Mary wrote, mon babil, my chat; but the more probable interpretation is, that at the end of a strain of piety, she terms the long letter hir bible, from its great length. Chaucer uses the word repeatedly for a large book. 44 I am irkit.] Nudata sum in the Latin, a blunder too gross for Buchanan to commit. As the English translator was not more likely than Wilson, the Latin translator, to comprehend the Scotch word irkit, his version, " I am weary," must have been derived from the original French; je suis lasse et m'en vais dormir. |
