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The Praise of Folly / Éloge de la folie — ĐœĐ° Đ°ĐœĐłĐ»Ń–ĐčсĐșаĐč і Ń„Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ†ŃƒĐ·ŃĐșаĐč ĐŒĐŸĐČах. ĐĄŃ‚Đ°Ń€ĐŸĐœĐșа 2

ĐĐœĐłĐ»Ń–ĐčсĐșа-Ń„Ń€Đ°ĐœŃ†ŃƒĐ·ŃĐșая ĐșĐœŃ–ĐłĐ°-Đ±Ń–Đ»Ń–ĐœĐłĐČа

Desiderius Erasmus Roterodamus

The Praise of Folly

Érasme

Éloge de la folie


non pas, si je ne me trompe ; mais bien certaine autre partie, si folle, si bouffonne, qu’on ne peut la nommer sans rire.


VoilĂ  la source sacrĂ©e d’oĂč vient la vie un peu plus sĂ»rement que du quaterne de Pythagore.

But tell me, I beseech you, what man is that would submit his neck to the noose of wedlock, if, as wise men should, he did but first truly weigh the inconvenience of the thing? Or what woman is there would ever go to it did she seriously consider either the peril of child-bearing or the trouble of bringing them up?

Entre nous, qui prĂ©senterait sa tĂȘte au joug du mariage, s’il avait mĂ»rement pesĂ©, comme le devraient faire les sages, les inconvĂ©nients de cet Ă©tat ? Quelle femme accueillerait son mari, si les douleurs de l’enfantement, les soucis de l’éducation lui Ă©taient connus, ou seulement si elle y avait rĂ©flĂ©chi ?

So then, if you owe your beings to wedlock, you owe that wedlock to this my follower, Madness; and what you owe to me I have already told you.

Devez-vous la naissance Ă  un mariage, le mariage Ă©tant du fait de ma compagne la DĂ©mence, il est facile de comprendre ce dont vous m’ĂȘtes redevable !

Again, she that has but once tried what it is, would she, do you think, make a second venture if it were not for my other companion, Oblivion?

La femme qui a subi une premiĂšre Ă©preuve s’exposerait-elle Ă  une seconde si notre bonne amie la dĂ©esse de l’Oubli n’intervenait dans l’affaire ?

Nay, even Venus herself, notwithstanding whatever Lucretius has said, would not deny but that all her virtue were lame and fruitless without the help of my deity.

VĂ©nus elle-mĂȘme, n’en dĂ©plaise Ă  LucrĂšce, aurait beau faire, sans mon secours elle resterait sans force et sans pouvoir.

For out of that little, odd, ridiculous May-game came the supercilious philosophers, in whose room have succeeded a kind of people the world calls monks, cardinals, priests, and the most holy popes. And lastly, all that rabble of the poets’ gods, with which heaven is so thwacked and thronged, that though it be of so vast an extent, they are hardly able to crowd one by another.

C’est de ce jeu ridicule, dont je rĂ©clame l’invention, que proviennent les philosophes pleins d’orgueil et leurs successeurs actuels, vulgairement nommĂ©s moines ; de cette mĂȘme source viennent aussi les majestĂ©s royales, les prĂȘtres sacrĂ©s, les pontifes trois fois saints, et encore cette foule de demi-dieux, si pressĂ©e, que l’Olympe, tout vaste qu’il est, peut Ă  peine la contenir.

XII

XII

But I think it is a small matter that you thus owe your beginning of life to me, unless I also show you that whatever benefit you receive in the progress of it is of my gift likewise. For what other is this? Can that be called life where you take away pleasure?

Mais ce n’est pas assez de vous avoir dĂ©montrĂ© que moi seule fĂ©conde les sources de la vie ; je n’aurais rien fait si je ne vous prouvais que tous les agrĂ©ments de cette vie, vous les devez Ă  ma munificence. Que serait-elle si on en retranchait le plaisir ? —

Oh! Do you like what I say?

Vous applaudissez. —

I knew none of you could have so little wit, or so much folly, or wisdom rather, as to be of any other opinion.

Je pensais bien qu’il n’y avait parmi vous personne d’assez sage
 d’assez fou, voulais-je dire
 mais non d’assez sage
 j’avais raison d’abord, pour n’ĂȘtre pas de mon avis.

For even the Stoics themselves that so severely cried down pleasure did but handsomely dissemble, and railed against it to the common people to no other end but that having discouraged them from it, they might the more plentifully enjoy it themselves.

Vos stoĂŻciens eux-mĂȘmes ne dĂ©daignent pas le plaisir, bien qu’ils le dissimulent avec soin, et ne manquent jamais d’en mĂ©dire en public ; mais il ne faut voir lĂ  qu’une manƓuvre adroite pour dĂ©tourner les autres du gĂąteau, afin d’avoir meilleure part.

But tell me, by Jupiter, what part of man’s life is that that is not sad, crabbed, unpleasant, insipid, troublesome, unless it be seasoned with pleasure, that is to say, folly?

Oseraient-ils soutenir, ces hypocrites, qu’il y ait un seul jour dans la vie qui ne soit triste, monotone, insipide, plein d’ennuis et de dĂ©goĂ»ts, Ă  moins que le plaisir, c’est-Ă -dire la Folie, n’y vienne mettre son grain de sel ?

For the proof of which the never sufficiently praised Sophocles in that his happy elegy of us, “To know nothing is the only happiness,” might be authority enough, but that I intend to take every particular by itself.

Le tĂ©moignage de Sophocle, qu’on ne saurait trop citer, serait Ă  la vĂ©ritĂ© suffisant pour prouver cette proposition. N’est-ce pas lui qui a renfermĂ© dans un vers notre Ă©loge le plus complet ? L’absence de la sagesse, a-t-il dit quelque part, rend seule la vie agrĂ©able ! Mais ce n’est pas assez, il s’agit de dĂ©montrer ce que nous avançons.

XIII

XIII

And first, who knows not but a man’s infancy is the merriest part of life to himself, and most acceptable to others?

Le premier Ăąge de la vie est le plus plaisant, le plus aimable de tous, personne ne le conteste ;

For what is that in them which we kiss, embrace, cherish, nay enemies succor, but this witchcraft of folly, which wise Nature did of purpose give them into the world with them that they might the more pleasantly pass over the toil of education, and as it were flatter the care and diligence of their nurses?

rien n’est aimĂ©, dorlotĂ©, caressĂ©, choyĂ© comme l’enfance ; elle attendrit mĂȘme le cƓur d’un ennemi. D’oĂč vient ce charme, s’il vous plaĂźt, sinon de cette aurĂ©ole de folie dont la nature prudente a ornĂ© les jeunes fronts, afin qu’ils puissent payer en plaisir les soucis de ceux qui prennent soin d’eux, et conquĂ©rir, par leur amabilitĂ©, la protection qui leur est indispensable ? —

And then for youth, which is in such reputation everywhere, how do all men favor it, study to advance it, and lend it their helping hand? And whence, I pray, all this grace? Whence but from me? by whose kindness, as it understands as little as may be, it is also for that reason the higher privileged from exceptions;

À l’enfance succĂšde la jeunesse. Que de grĂąces chez l’adolescent ! aussi comme tout le monde l’accueille avec sympathie, l’aide avec empressement et lui tend une main bienveillante ! D’oĂč vient donc cette faveur ? De mon influence magique qui, en entretenant chez lui une douce folie, le rend plus aimable.

and I am mistaken if, when it is grown up and by experience and discipline brought to savor something like man, if in the same instant that beauty does not fade, its liveliness decay, its pleasantness grow flat, and its briskness fail.

Je serais incomplĂšte si je n’ajoutais qu’aussitĂŽt que l’ñge s’avance, l’usage du monde, certaines conventions rĂ©putĂ©es sagesse chez les hommes, y aidant, la beautĂ© s’altĂšre, la gaietĂ© s’éteint, l’élĂ©gance s’efface, la vigueur diminue.

And by how much the further it runs from me, by so much the less it lives, till it comes to the burden of old age, not only hateful to others, but to itself also. Which also were altogether insupportable did not I pity its condition, in being present with it, and, as the poets’ gods were wont to assist such as were dying with some pleasant metamorphosis, help their decrepitness as much as in me lies by bringing them back to a second childhood,

À mesure que les hommes s’éloignent de moi, la vie se retire d’eux ; et ils touchent bientĂŽt Ă  la vieillesse grondeuse, Ă  cet Ăąge importun Ă  soi-mĂȘme et aux autres, que les hommes ne pourraient supporter si, lĂ  encore, je ne leur venais en aide. Comme les dieux des poĂ«mes antiques qui, dans les pĂ©rils pressants sauvaient leurs protĂ©gĂ©s Ă  l’aide d’une mĂ©tamorphose ; autant qu’il m’est possible, je ramĂšne Ă  l’enfance le vieillard penchĂ© vers la tombe :

from whence they are not improperly called twice children. Which, if you ask me how I do it, I shall not be shy in the point. I bring them to our River Lethe (for its springhead rises in the Fortunate Islands, and that other of hell is but a brook in comparison), from which, as soon as they have drunk down a long forgetfulness, they wash away by degrees the perplexity of their minds, and so wax young again. But perhaps you’ll say they are foolish and doting.

de lĂ , cette habitude populaire de les appeler vieux enfants. Je ne fais pas mystĂšre de ma maniĂšre d’opĂ©rer, je conduis simplement mes gens Ă  la source du LĂ©thĂ©, aux Îles FortunĂ©es (car il n’y a aux Enfers qu’un petit bras de ce fleuve), et lĂ  je leur fais boire Ă  longs traits l’eau d’oubli, qui dissipe leurs soucis et leur donne une nouvelle enfance. Mais on m’objectera qu’aprĂšs cela ils divaguent et battent la campagne.

Admit it; ’tis the very essence of childhood; as if to be such were not to be a fool, or that that condition had anything pleasant in it, but that it understood nothing. For who would not look upon that child as a prodigy that should have as much wisdom as a man?—

Par Hercule ! je le sais bien ! — Mais c’est par lĂ  qu’ils reviennent Ă  l’enfance ; le propre de cet Ăąge n’étant autre que de divaguer et battre la campagne ; et la Folie, nous l’avons montrĂ©, en constitue le plus bel ornement ! La sagesse de l’ñge mĂ»r se greffant sur l’enfance produit un monstre,

according to that common proverb, “I do not like a child that is a man too soon.” Or who would endure a converse or friendship with that old man who to so large an experience of things had joined an equal strength of mind and sharpness of judgment?

et le proverbe latin a raison de dire : « Je n’aime pas qu’un enfant soit un homme. » Je ne sais rien de fatigant comme le commerce et la sociĂ©tĂ© d’un vieillard, qui avec son expĂ©rience de toutes choses, a conservĂ© la vigueur de son intelligence et la nettetĂ© de son jugement.

And therefore for this reason it is that old age dotes; and that it does so, it is beholding to me. Yet, notwithstanding, is this dotard exempt from all those cares that distract a wise man; he is not the less pot companion,

Il y a donc bienfait de ma part Ă  faire radoter la vieillesse. Je la mets d’ailleurs par ce moyen Ă  l’abri des tourments que le sage mĂȘme ne peut Ă©viter, ce qui ne l’empĂȘche pas cependant de fĂȘter la dive bouteille.

nor is he sensible of that burden of life which the more manly age finds enough to do to stand upright under it. And sometimes too, like Plautus’ old man, he returns to his three letters, A.M.O., the most unhappy of all things living, if he rightly understood what he did in it. And yet, so much do I befriend him that I make him well received of his friends and no unpleasant companion;

À l’abri dĂ©sormais du dĂ©goĂ»t de la vie, que l’ñge le plus vigoureux supporte Ă  grand’peine, le vieillard en revient mĂȘme parfois Ă  Ă©peler le mot aimer, comme le barbon de Plaute ; trop heureux alors de n’avoir plus son bon sens ! En somme, grĂące Ă  moi, la vieillesse est exempte de chagrins, agrĂ©able Ă  ses amis, et bienvenue dans toutes les fĂȘtes.

for as much as, according to Homer, Nestor’s discourse was pleasanter than honey, whereas Achilles’ was both bitter and malicious; and that of old men, as he has it in another place, florid.

Voyez chez HomĂšre, les lĂšvres d’Achille ne distillent que le fiel, tandis que de la bouche de Nestor les discours s’épandent aussi doux que le miel ; et les anciens guerriers, assis Ă  la porte de ScĂ©e, s’abandonnent Ă  des entretiens pleins de calme.

In which respect also they have this advantage of children, in that they want the only pleasure of the others’ life, we’ll suppose it prattling.

De ce cĂŽtĂ©, la vieillesse l’emporte sur l’enfance, Ăąge heureux, mais privĂ© de ces longues causeries qui ajoutent tant de charmes Ă  la vie.

Add to this that old men are more eagerly delighted with children, and they, again, with old men. “Like to like,” quoted the Devil to the collier. For what difference between them, but that the one has more wrinkles and years upon his head than the other?

Il est bon d’observer que les vieux raffolent des enfants et les enfants des vieux, sans doute parce que, comme le dit le poĂ«te : les dieux se plaisent Ă  rapprocher les semblables. La seule diffĂ©rence entre ces deux extrĂȘmes, ce sont les rides de l’un et les longues annĂ©es qu’il compte ; pour le reste, tout est pareil entre eux :

Otherwise, the brightness of their hair, toothless mouth, weakness of body, love of mild, broken speech, chatting, toying, forgetfulness, inadvertency,

cheveux peu colorĂ©s, bouche Ă©dentĂ©e, formes incomplĂštes, gourmandise de laitage, bĂ©gaiement, intempĂ©rance de langue, niaiserie, faiblesse de mĂ©moire et dĂ©faut d’attention.

and briefly, all other their actions agree in everything. And by how much the nearer they approach to this old age, by so much they grow backward into the likeness of children, until like them they pass from life to death, without any weariness of the one, or sense of the other.

Plus l’homme s’avance vers sa fin, plus la ressemblance se confirme, jusqu’à ce que tout Ă  fait comme l’enfant, le vieillard, sans regrets de la vie, sans crainte de la mort, Ă©migre vers un autre monde.

XIV

XIV

And now, let him that will compare the benefits they receive by me, the metamorphoses of the gods, of whom I shall not mention what they have done in their pettish humors but where they have been most favorable: turning one into a tree, another into a bird, a third into a grasshopper, serpent, or the like. As if there were any difference between perishing and being another thing!

Que l’on compare aprĂšs cela mes bienfaits avec les mĂ©tamorphoses des autres dieux. Sans parler des vilains tours que ces immortels se permettent lorsqu’ils sont en colĂšre, voyez seulement en quoi consistent leurs faveurs : les plus bienveillants se sont bornĂ©s Ă  changer leurs protĂ©gĂ©s en arbres, en oiseaux, en cigales, voire mĂȘme en serpents ; comme si ce n’était pas mourir que n’ĂȘtre plus soi-mĂȘme !

But I restore the same man to the best and happiest part of his life. And if men would but refrain from all commerce with wisdom and give up themselves to be governed by me, they should never know what it were to be old, but solace themselves with a perpetual youth.

Moi, que fais-je, au contraire ? Je rends aux mortels la pĂ©riode la meilleure et la plus heureuse de leur vie. En vĂ©ritĂ©, je vous le dis, si les mortels rompaient tout commerce avec la sagesse, s’ils abandonnaient leurs jours Ă  ma seule direction, ils ne vieilliraient pas ; leur fĂ©licitĂ© et leur jeunesse dureraient autant qu’eux.

Do but observe our grim philosophers that are perpetually beating their brains on knotty subjects, and for the most part you’ll find them grown old before they are scarcely young. And whence is it, but that their continual and restless thoughts insensibly prey upon their spirits and dry up their radical moisture?

Regardez ces visages blafards, ils ont pĂąli sur la philosophie, au milieu d’études profondes et ardues ; tout jeunes encore, ils sont dĂ©jĂ  vieux ; le travail, une tension incessante du cerveau, a dessĂ©chĂ© chez eux la sĂ©ve de la vie.

Whereas, on the contrary, my fat fools are as plump and round as a Westphalian hog, and never sensible of old age, unless perhaps, as sometimes it rarely happens, they come to be infected with wisdom,

Regardez au contraire mes fous bien-aimĂ©s, ils sont gras, brillants de santĂ© dans leur peau, comme de vrais pourceaux acarnaniens ; ils sont dĂšs maintenant Ă  l’abri des incommoditĂ©s de la vieillesse, Ă  moins que, comme il n’arrive que trop souvent, ils ne finissent par attraper la fiĂšvre de la sagesse.

so hard a thing it is for a man to be happy in all things.

Tant il est vrai que le bonheur absolu est impossible à l’homme !

And to this purpose is that no small testimony of the proverb, that says, “Folly is the only thing that keeps youth at a stay and old age afar off;”

À l’appui de ce que je viens de vous dire, je vous citerai le dicton populaire : « La Folie est la seule chose qui arrĂȘte la jeunesse dans sa fuite et retarde l’arrivĂ©e du dernier jour. »

as it is verified in the Brabanders, of whom there goes this common saying, “That age, which is wont to render other men wiser, makes them the greater fools.”

Je ne connais que les Brabançons qui aient mis ce prĂ©cepte complĂ©tement en pratique, au rebours de ce qui se passe chez les autres ; loin d’acquĂ©rir la gravitĂ© avec l’ñge, ces bons compagnons se trouvent chaque matin un peu plus fous que la veille.

And yet there is scarce any nation of a more jocund converse, or that is less sensible of the misery of old age, than they are.

Il est de fait qu’il n’est pas d’autre nation qui mette plus de joyeusetĂ© dans les choses de la vie, et qui redoute moins la vieillesse.

And to these, as in situation, so for manner of living, come nearest my friends the Hollanders. And why should I not call them mine,

Mes Hollandais se rapprochent d’eux, non moins par leur position gĂ©ographique que par leur maniĂšre de vivre ;

since they are so diligent observers of me that they are commonly called by my name?—of which they are so far from being ashamed, they rather pride themselves in it. Let the foolish world then be packing and seek out Medeas, Circes, Venuses, Auroras, and I know not what other fountains of restoring youth. I am sure I am the only person that both can, and have, made it good.

je dis mes Hollandais, parce qu’ils me rendent un culte si assidu qu’ils en ont retenu un surnom. Disons Ă  leur louange que, loin d’en rougir, ils le considĂšrent comme leur plus beau titre de gloire. Allez maintenant, mortels insensĂ©s, demander aux MĂ©dĂ©es, aux CircĂ©s, aux VĂ©nus, Ă  l’Aurore, Ă  je ne sais quelle fontaine, une seconde jeunesse ! Ne comprenez-vous pas que, moi seule, je puis la donner, et la donne en effet ?

’Tis I alone that have that wonderful juice with which Memnon’s daughter prolonged the youth of her grandfather Tithon.

C’est moi qui possùde ce philtre magique à l’aide duquel la fille de Memnon prolongea les jours de Tithon, son aïeul ;

I am that Venus by whose favor Phaon became so young again that Sappho fell in love with him.

c’est moi la VĂ©nus qui rendit Ă  Phaon les grĂąces de cette belle jeunesse qui enflamma si fort l’ardente Sapho ;

Mine are those herbs, if yet there be any such, mine those charms, and mine that fountain that not only restores departed youth but, which is more desirable, preserves it perpetual.

ce sont mes simples, s’il y en a dans l’affaire, mes enchantements, ma fontaine merveilleuse, qui rappellent la jeunesse Ă©coulĂ©e, que dis-je, qui la conservent inaltĂ©rable.

And if you all subscribe to this opinion, that nothing is better than youth or more execrable than age, I conceive you cannot but see how much you are indebted to me, that have retained so great a good and shut out so great an evil.

Si vous ĂȘtes d’accord avec moi que rien n’est plus dĂ©sirable que la jeunesse, rien n’est plus odieux que la vieillesse ; vous devez reconnaĂźtre par suite ce dont vous m’ĂȘtes redevable, Ă  moi qui vous conserve un bien si prĂ©cieux en Ă©cartant le mal contraire.

XV

XV

But why do I altogether spend my breath in speaking of mortals?

Mais quittons la terre un moment

View heaven round, and let him that will reproach me with my name if he find any one of the gods that were not stinking and contemptible were he not made acceptable by my deity.

et passons en revue les habitants des cieux. Je veux bien qu’on me fasse une injure de mon nom, si on trouve un seul des immortels qui vaille quelque chose sans moi !

Why is it that Bacchus is always a stripling, and bushy-haired?

Pourquoi Bacchus a-t-il toujours été cet éphÚbe à la longue chevelure !

but because he is mad, and drunk, and spends his life in drinking, dancing, revels, and May games, not having so much as the least society with Pallas.

parce que toujours fou, toujours ivre, toujours au milieu des banquets, des danses, des chansons et des fĂȘtes, il n’a jamais eu aucun commerce avec Pallas.

And lastly, he is so far from desiring to be accounted wise that he delights to be worshiped with sports and gambols;

Il serait si fĂąchĂ© de passer pour sage qu’il ne veut ĂȘtre honorĂ© que par des jeux et des rĂ©jouissances.

nor is he displeased with the proverb that gave him the surname of fool, “A greater fool than Bacchus;”

Il ne s’offense mĂȘme pas du surnom de bouffon que lui donne un proverbe grec, qui le dit plus fou qu’une tĂȘte barbouillĂ©e de lie, —

which name of his was changed to Morychus, for that sitting before the gates of his temple, the wanton country people were wont to bedaub him with new wine and figs.

par allusion Ă  la coutume des vignerons en fĂȘte, de barbouiller de figues et de vin doux la statue de leur patron assise devant son temple. —

And of scoffs, what not, have not the ancient comedies thrown on him?

Aussi quels sarcasmes l’ancienne comĂ©die n’a-t-elle pas dĂ©cochĂ©s contre lui ! Oh ! le plaisant dieu, disait-elle, beau produit de la cuisse de Jupiter !

O foolish god, say they, and worthy to be born as you were of your father’s thigh! And yet, who had not rather be your fool and sot, always merry, ever young, and making sport for other people, than either Homer’s Jupiter with his crooked counsels, terrible to everyone; or old Pan with his hubbubs; or smutty Vulcan half covered with cinders; or even Pallas herself, so dreadful with her Gorgon’s head and spear and a countenance like bullbeef?

De bonne foi, qui n’aimerait mieux ĂȘtre ce bouffon, ce railleur toujours en fĂȘte, toujours jeune avec son cortĂ©ge de ris et de plaisirs, plutĂŽt que ce sournois de Jupiter toujours en train de faire trembler quelqu’un ; que ce vieux Pan gĂątant tout avec ses terreurs ; que ce vilain Vulcain tout poudreux, et noir de fumĂ©e, ou que cette Minerve Ă  la lance et Ă  l’égide terribles, et qui regarde toujours de travers.

Why is Cupid always portrayed like a boy,

Et Cupidon ?


pourquoi croyez-vous que sa jeunesse soit éternelle ?

but because he is a very wag and can neither do nor so much as think of anything sober?

C’est, qu’ami du badinage, il ne pense et ne fait rien que des folies.

Why Venus ever in her prime, but because of her affinity with me?

Et VĂ©nus aux cheveux d’or, pourquoi sa beautĂ© fleurit-elle toujours ? Pourquoi ?

Witness that color of her hair, so resembling my father, from whence she is called the golden Venus;

parce qu’elle a avec moi certaine affinitĂ©, qui fait Ă©clater en elle les richesses de mon pĂšre,

and lastly, ever laughing, if you give any credit to the poets, or their followers the statuaries.

et que la gaietĂ© ne l’abandonne jamais, si nous en croyons les poĂ«tes et les statuaires leurs Ă©mules.

What deity did the Romans ever more religiously adore than that of Flora, the foundress of all pleasure?

Dites-moi quelle autre dĂ©esse fut honorĂ©e chez les Romains Ă  l’égal de Flore, la mĂšre des voluptĂ©s ! —

Nay, if you should but diligently search the lives of the most sour and morose of the gods out of Homer and the rest of the poets, you would find them all but so many pieces of Folly.

Au reste, si on en croit HomĂšre, les dieux les plus austĂšres sacrifient eux-mĂȘmes Ă  la Folie.

And to what purpose should I run over any of the other gods’ tricks when you know enough of Jupiter’s loose loves?

Est-il besoin de vous rappeler les amours et les aventures de Jupiter-Tonnant ?

When that chaste Diana shall so far forget her sex as to be ever hunting and ready to perish for Endymion?

de vous parler de Diane, qui oubliant tout Ă  fait la modestie de son sexe, ne chassait plus rien dans les forĂȘts que le bel Endymion, pour qui elle mourait d’amour ?

But I had rather they should hear these things from Momus, from whom heretofore they were wont to have their shares,

Et toutes ces peccadilles que Momus reprochait autrefois aux immortels, je les passe sous silence ;

till in one of their angry humors they tumbled him, together with Ate, goddess of mischief, down headlong to the earth, because his wisdom, forsooth, unseasonably disturbed their happiness.

sur ce sujet dĂ©licat, j’aime mieux m’en rapporter Ă  ce qu’il a dit, car, s’il vous en souvient, les dieux importunĂ©s de sa sagesse le prĂ©cipitĂšrent sur la terre,

Nor since that dares any mortal give him harbor, though I must confess there wanted little but that he had been received into the courts of princes, had not my companion Flattery reigned in chief there, with whom and the other there is no more correspondence than between lambs and wolves.

et depuis aucun asile ne s’ouvrit Ă  l’exilĂ© ; les palais des rois se fermĂšrent surtout devant lui, la Flatterie ma compagne y tenant cour plĂ©niĂšre et sympathisant avec lui comme le loup avec l’agneau.

From whence it is that the gods play the fool with the greater liberty and more content to themselves “doing all things carelessly,” as says Father Homer, that is to say, without anyone to correct them.

Débarrassés de cet importun, les Immortels menÚrent joyeuse vie et se laissÚrent aller à la pente, comme dit HomÚre, sans crainte des censeurs.

For what ridiculous stuff is there which that stump of the fig tree Priapus does not afford them?

Que de gaieté dans ce drille de Priape ?

What tricks and legerdemains with which Mercury does not cloak his thefts?

que d’espiùglerie dans les vols et les tours de Mercure !

What buffoonery that Vulcan is not guilty of, while one with his polt-foot, another with his smutched muzzle, another with his impertinencies, he makes sport for the rest of the gods?

N’est-ce pas grĂące Ă  Vulcain, Ă  son allure baroque, Ă  ses balourdises et Ă  ses quiproquos, que les dieux Ă©branlent par leurs rires la salle de leurs festins ?

As also that old Silenus with his country dances, Polyphemus footing time to his Cyclops hammers, the nymphs with their jigs, and satyrs with their antics;

SilÚne, ce vieil amoureux, ne danse-t-il pas la Cordax, et PolyphÚme ne se trémousse-t-il pas lourdement, tandis que les nymphes effleurent à peine la terre de leurs pieds ? Les satyres aux pieds de chÚvres figurent les impudiques Atellanes ;

while Pan makes them all twitter with some coarse ballad, which yet they had rather hear than the Muses themselves, and chiefly when they are well whittled with nectar.

Pan, avec ses chansons bien bĂȘtes, fait rire tout le monde, car on prĂ©fĂšre Pan aux Muses, surtout quand le nectar Ă©chauffe les cerveaux divins !

Besides, what should I mention what these gods do when they are half drunk?

Vous dirai-je ce que les immortels font aprĂšs boire ?

Now by my troth, so foolish that I myself can hardly refrain laughter.

qu’Hercule me confonde si je puis m’empĂȘcher d’en rire ;

But in these matters ’twere better we remembered Harpocrates, lest some eavesdropping god or other take us whispering that which Momus only has the privilege of speaking at length.

mais il vaut mieux me taire comme Harpocrate, car quelque dieu mal avisĂ© n’aurait qu’a m’entendre et m’infliger le chĂątiment de Momus ?

XVI

XVI

And therefore, according to Homer’s example, I think it high time to leave the gods to themselves, and look down a little on the earth; wherein likewise you’ll find nothing frolic or fortunate that it owes not to me.

Comme le dit HomĂšre, il est temps de laisser les plaines Ă©thĂ©rĂ©es ; revenons sur la terre, que je vous montre que lĂ  aussi rien d’agrĂ©able ni d’heureux n’arrive sans mon intervention.

So provident has that great parent of mankind, Nature, been that there should not be anything without its mixture and, as it were, seasoning of Folly.

Remarquons tout d’abord combien la nature, en mĂšre prĂ©voyante, a pris soin que tout ici-bas fĂ»t assaisonnĂ© d’un grain de folie.

For since according to the definition of the Stoics, wisdom is nothing else than to be governed by reason, and on the contrary Folly, to be given up to the will of our passions, that the life of man might not be altogether disconsolate and hard to away with, of how much more passion than reason has Jupiter composed us? putting in, as one would say, “scarce half an ounce to a pound.”

J’admets, si l’on veut, avec les stoĂŻciens, que la sagesse consiste Ă  suivre la raison, et la folie, au contraire, Ă  suivre ses passions ; mais, n’est-ce pas justement pour Ă©gayer la vie, que les dieux nous ont donnĂ© plus de folie que de sagesse, et ce dans une trĂšs-forte proportion !

Besides, he has confined reason to a narrow corner of the brain and left all the rest of the body to our passions;

Ils ont relégué la raison dans un tout petit coin du cerveau ; les passions, au contraire, rÚgnent dans tout le reste du corps.

has also set up, against this one, two as it were, masterless tyrants—anger, that possesses the region of the heart, and consequently the very fountain of life, the heart itself; and lust, that stretches its empire everywhere.

À la raison sont opposĂ©s deux antagonistes redoutables : la colĂšre, qui a le siĂ©ge de son empire au cƓur, aux sources mĂȘmes de la vie, et la lubricitĂ© qui Ă©tend bien au delĂ  sa prĂ©pondĂ©rance.

Against which double force how powerful reason is let common experience declare, inasmuch as she, which yet is all she can do, may call out to us till she be hoarse again and tell us the rules of honesty and virtue; while they give up the reins to their governor and make a hideous clamor, till at last being wearied, he suffer himself to be carried whither they please to hurry him.

Ce que peut la raison avec une pareille organisation, le train ordinaire de la vie nous le montre ; en vain elle s’enroue Ă  indiquer le droit sentier, on ne l’écoute pas ; ses sujets se rĂ©voltent contre cette prĂ©tendue reine et crient plus fort qu’elle, si bien que fatiguĂ©e, un jour elle cĂšde, et lĂąche la bride Ă  tous les Ă©carts.

XVII

XVII

But forasmuch as such as are born to the business of the world have some little sprinklings of reason more than the rest, yet that they may the better manage it, even in this as well as in other things, they call me to counsel; and I give them such as is worthy of myself, to wit, that they take to them a wife—a silly thing, God wot, and foolish, yet wanton and pleasant, by which means the roughness of the masculine temper is seasoned and sweetened by her folly.

Cependant, comme l’homme Ă©tait destinĂ© aux affaires, il Ă©tait nĂ©cessaire qu’il eĂ»t au moins une once de raison pour s’en tirer Ă  peu prĂšs ; le crĂ©ateur, bien embarrassĂ©, prit mon avis, selon sa coutume ; le conseil que je lui donnai pour parer aux dangers de cet excĂ©dant de raison fut digne de moi : c’était de donner une femme Ă  l’homme ! La femme est, il faut l’avouer, un animal inepte et fou, mais au demeurant plaisant et gracieux ; de sorte que sa sociĂ©tĂ© tempĂšre et adoucit dans l’intimitĂ© ce que le gĂ©nie de l’homme a forcĂ©ment de triste.

For in that Plato seems to doubt under what genus he should put woman, to wit, that of rational creatures or brutes, he intended no other in it than to show the apparent folly of the sex.

Platon, en mettant en doute dans quelle classe il devait ranger la femme, des animaux raisonnables ou des autres, n’a voulu faire autre chose qu’indiquer par là l’insigne folie du sexe.

For if perhaps any of them goes about to be thought wiser than the rest, what else does she do but play the fool twice, as if a man should “teach a cow to dance,” “a thing quite against the hair.” For as it doubles the crime if anyone should put a disguise upon Nature, or endeavor to bring her to that she will in no wise bear,

Si, par hasard, une femme voulait poser pour la sagesse, elle ne parviendrait certainement qu’à mettre sa folie plus en relief ; c’est comme si elle envoyait un bƓuf aux courses du cirque. En gĂ©nĂ©ral, on ne fait que rendre plus saillant un vice lorsqu’on cherche Ă  lui donner les apparences de la vertu et qu’on change son naturel.

according to that proverb of the Greeks, “An ape is an ape, though clad in scarlet”; so a woman is a woman still, that is to say foolish, let her put on whatever vizard she please.

Le singe est toujours singe, a dit avec justesse le proverbe grec, mĂȘme sous la pourpre. La femme est toujours femme, c’est-Ă -dire folle, quelque masque qu’elle prenne d’ailleurs.

But, by the way, I hope that sex is not so foolish as to take offense at this, that I myself, being a woman, and Folly too, have attributed folly to them. For if they weigh it right, they needs must acknowledge that they owe it to folly that they are more fortunate than men.

Je ne vais pourtant pas jusqu’à la croire assez folle pour trouver mauvais que moi, femme, et de plus la Folie en personne, je la dĂ©clare comblĂ©e de mes faveurs. À prendre les choses du bon cĂŽtĂ©, elle doit admettre que je lui ai donnĂ© une part bien prĂ©fĂ©rable Ă  celle des hommes.

As first their beauty, which, and that not without cause, they prefer before everything, since by its means they exercise a tyranny even upon tyrants themselves;

Ne serait-ce que cette beautĂ©, qu’elle prise et Ă  juste raison avant tout, et qui lui permet de tyranniser les tyrans eux-mĂȘmes.

otherwise, whence proceeds that sour look, rough skin, bushy beard, and such other things as speak plain old age in a man, but from that disease of wisdom? Whereas women’s cheeks are ever plump and smooth, their voice small, their skin soft, as if they imitated a certain kind of perpetual youth.

Ne vous le dissimulez pas, ce qui donne Ă  l’homme ces traits rudes, cette peau hĂ©rissĂ©e, cette barbe Ă©paisse qui appellent la vieillesse, c’est la raison, la raison seule ; tandis qu’il y a chez la femme je ne sais quoi d’éternellement jeune : ses joues sont imberbes, sa voix fraĂźche, sa peau moelleuse.

Again, what greater thing do they wish in their whole lives than that they may please the man?

Toute l’ambition de sa vie elle la met à plaire à l’homme !

For to what other purpose are all those dresses, washes, baths, slops, perfumes, and those several little tricks of setting their faces, painting their eyebrows, and smoothing their skins?

Les soins, les fards, les bains, les coiffures, les parfums, les essences et tous les artifices pour embellir, peindre et faire son visage et ses yeux, n’ont pas d’autre but.

And now tell me, what higher letters of recommendation have they to men than this folly?

N’est-ce pas avouer par suite que ce qui recommande plus particuliùrement les femmes aux hommes, c’est leur folie ?

For what is it they do not permit them to do?

D’ailleurs les hommes permettent tout aux femmes, pourvu qu’elles leur donnent en retour le plaisir ;

And to what other purpose than that of pleasure? Wherein yet their folly is not the least thing that pleases; which so true it is, I think no one will deny, that does but consider with himself, what foolish discourse and odd gambols pass between a man and his woman, as often as he had a mind to be gamesome?

or, qu’est-ce que le plaisir, sinon la Folie ? Et personne ne me contredira, pour peu qu’il ait songĂ© quelles inepties dit et fait un homme lorsque le dĂ©sir l’aiguillonne.

And so I have shown you whence the first and chiefest delight of man’s life springs.

Je viens de vous montrer la source du plus grand plaisir de la vie.

XVIII

XVIII

But there are some, you’ll say, and those too none of the youngest, that have a greater kindness for the pot than the petticoat and place their chiefest pleasure in good fellowship.

Ainsi les vieillards, en général, plutÎt buveurs que galants, trouvent le bonheur au fond de leur verre.

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