The first two books appeared in 1653.  The original edition, exceedingly scarce, was carefully reprinted in 1838, only a hundred copies being issued, by an English bibliophile T(heodore) M(artin), whose interesting preface I regret to sum up so cursorily.  At the end of the seventeenth century, in 1693, a French refugee, Peter Antony Motteux, whose English verses and whose plays are not without value, published in a little octavo volume a reprint, very incorrect as to the text, of the first two books, to which he added the third, from the manuscript found amongst Urquhart’s papers.  The success which attended this venture suggested to Motteux the idea of completing the work, and a second edition, in two volumes, appeared in 1708, with the translation of the fourth and fifth books, and notes.  Nineteen years after his death, John Ozell, translator on a large scale of French, Italian, and Spanish authors, revised Motteux’s edition, which he published in five volumes in 1737, adding Le Duchat’s notes; and this version has often been reprinted since.

The continuation by Motteux, who was also the translator of Don Quixote, has merits of its own.  It is precise, elegant, and very faithful.  Urquhart’s, without taking liberties with Rabelais like Fischart, is not always so closely literal and exact.  Nevertheless, it is much superior to Motteux’s.  If Urquhart does not constantly adhere to the form of the expression, if he makes a few slight additions, not only has he an understanding of the original, but he feels it, and renders the sense with a force and a vivacity full of warmth and brilliancy.  His own learning made the comprehension of the work easy to him, and his anglicization of words fabricated by Rabelais is particularly successful.  The necessity of keeping to his text prevented his indulgence in the convolutions and divagations dictated by his exuberant fancy when writing on his own account.  His style, always full of life and vigour, is here balanced, lucid, and picturesque.  Never elsewhere did he write so well.  And thus the translation reproduces the very accent of the original, besides possessing a very remarkable character of its own.  Such a literary tone and such literary qualities are rarely found in a translation.  Urquhart’s, very useful for the interpretation of obscure passages, may, and indeed should be read as a whole, both for Rabelais and for its own merits.

Holland, too, possesses a translation of Rabelais.  They knew French in that country in the seventeenth century better than they do to-day, and there Rabelais’ works were reprinted when no editions were appearing in France.  This Dutch translation was published at Amsterdam in 1682, by J. Tenhoorn.  The name attached to it, Claudio Gallitalo (Claudius French-Italian) must certainly be a pseudonym.  Only a Dutch scholar could identify the translator, and state the value to be assigned to his work.