Dionysius Lambinus
To the Most Illustrious, Most Eminent Lord Francis Turonio, of the Holy Roman Church, Cardinal, Greetings.
How splendidly you shine, O most illustrious and most highly adorned Cardinal, for you unite praise and virtue—each of which, taken alone, is immensely powerful—and are all the more so when both concur in one and the same man: nature and learning.
Yet it very rarely happens that he whom nature has endowed with a singular preeminence of virtue also combines learning with innate talent and the goodness of his nature; or that he who, inflamed with the keenest zeal for learning, devotes his entire art to reading and thoroughly perusing ancient writings is thereby able, as I have said, to advance more fully the bounty of nature and the appetite for the fruits of learning, and to promote them with greater success.
There is an even rarer sort of man, who first is enriched and equipped with all the blessings of both nature and learning; and then, having been continually engaged in the administration of the republic and in civil duties, is able not only to behold with admiration the evident and solid aspect of virtue in the soul and to grasp it by thought, but also endeavors to impart its use and its benefit both to his own citizens and to foreign nations. Of these kinds of men—of which you are preeminent:
Not only Gaul—which, it is credible, knows you better—but also Italy and Spain, which, though they encompass the leading regions of the world, have often heard of your virtues and, when you appeared among them, have shown you the deepest admiration and veneration. I would gladly, in a lengthier discourse, carefully and accurately compile—and present under a single head—the proofs and testimonies of the embassies you conducted, the journeys you undertook, the councils you attended, the pacifications you negotiated, and all the other deeds you performed; by so doing, I would strive to teach and demonstrate what I am saying.
But now, since these matters are already most familiar to all nations here, and there is nothing in the entire course of your life that shines more clearly or more brilliantly—seeing that your actions have been constantly displayed before the eyes of the most powerful peoples and in the very heart of kingdoms and republics—I will not delay to amplify and illuminate them with my speech, as though I were casting light upon exceedingly illustrious things. Instead, I will simply observe this: that which seems to me most worthy of the highest praise and admiration is that you, a man burdened with the gravest cares of state and engrossed by countless and very weighty occupations, have nevertheless found each day to reserve several hours—despite your mind’s weariness and exhaustion from civil responsibilities—for the study of ancient authors, whether in reading them yourself or in listening to their words.
And so that you might carry out this practice with less difficulty and with greater delight of spirit, you took care to have at your household men of every talent and art, each deserving of esteem. You surpass in every kind of praise, for with you one may converse about letters; about numbers, proportions, and measures of magnitudes; about sounds, vowels, and their distinctions; about subtleties and hidden things woven by Nature herself; about the various genres of poets; about the finest figures of speech; about civil law; about divine matters—and you can both communicate on these topics and hold learned discussions.
Nor did you first establish this practice only recently, but from the time when your duties did not permit you to devote yourself to the study of learning and letters—when you undertook legations to Spain, to Italy, and to Britain; when you held the key of the entire Kingdom of France and steered its helm; when you were immersed in the waves of civil cares and the storms of public business—at that very time you made your journeys accompanied by the most learned men: you rode, you sailed, you traveled in their company.
For who is unaware of, or has not heard tell of, those great princes of learning—Dionysius Coronuxius, Hieronymus Fundulus, Placidius Danefius (lately created Cardinal of Valence on account of his outstanding virtue and singular erudition), Arnaldus Ferrerius and Niccolò Valla (both eminent jurisconsults), the most select judges of the Parisian Centumviral Court and counselors of the King, Noël Binet and Matteo Orsivius the theologian, Fra Rondelet the physician who is preeminently learned, and many other most learned and eloquent men? Thus you were surrounded by the company of such men, so that you could devote as much time to the studies of learning as remained over from the gravest affairs of state and the most pressing occupations.
But now, like a brave and invincible knight—who, after having displayed the illustrious evidences of his mind and his virtue, endured many perils and hardships, and secured many victories—unless you had obtained from the Emperor a release from military service, an exemption from arms, and a remission of labors, you could not have achieved this. Even now, though you enjoy in a city that is the most beautiful, most opulent, most tranquil, and most peaceful of all Italy the benefit of your most illustrious counsel and governance, these advantages have not allowed you wholly to rest and be free from your former cares and labors. You do breathe a somewhat lighter breath; and you judge it far less necessary now to be deprived of the company and presence of those men with whom, on account of those very serious occupations of yours, you once did not cultivate learning so accurately and without restraint, but now, with a somewhat less burdened mind, may renew, recall, and re-cultivate your studies of learning.
Indeed, others—each according to his own rank and office—stand ready to assist you and to serve you: men noble and outstanding in their various arts: Paulus Villarius, a most learned jurist, also a chosen judge of the Parisian Centumviral Council and counselor of the King; Bernardus Broaeus, likewise most skilled in law; Vincentius Laurus, a most acute philosopher; and the distinguished physician Donatus Iannodius, first instructed in the knowledge of all great matters and then adorned and perfected by singular probity and humanity; Georgius Torodes, thoroughly versed in Latin and Greek letters; Joannes Darcius. I, however—whoever I am (for I was not minted a doctor)—yet I, when you also wished to include me among your circle, since you in former years (as you remember) had shown me Aristotle’s ten books of the Nicomachean Ethics:
Not only would you, when studying the Nicomachean Ethics, read the Greek passages for yourself in part, but you also had me read them aloud so that you might review and examine them; and you employed certain Latin interpreters—some of whom appeared to you to render the text carelessly, and others to fail to convey Aristotle’s meaning faithfully enough. For this reason, you ordered me to devote my efforts to translate those books into Latin for you—yet in such a manner that I would not unduly lengthen my expression (as some, without sufficient consideration, had done). Rather, as far as I could, I ought to imitate Aristotle’s brevity and most concise style of exposition and to reproduce it. To this most honorable wish of yours, as soon as I was able, I deemed it right to submit.
Nor did I undertake this task with the intention that the translation might one day appear in the hands of others; I did it solely to gratify your scholarly zeal, to render you my service, and thereby to free myself—by this or by any other means—from obligations. But when I saw that these books had been entrusted to Adrien Turnèbe, ornament of our France; to Marcus Antonius Muretus, whose eloquence and learning have now been admired in Venice for four years; to Lodovico Corradi of Mantua, most wise and of the highest generosity of spirit, surpassing all men in the praise of every virtue; and to your Baldus of Urbino, your familiar and domestic tutor—so that they might read the translation attentively and offer their judgment—they urged me to make public what I had crafted for you and to share it with others. To the exhortations of Turnèbe, Muretus, and Corradi was added the counsel and authority of Paulus Manutius, the most learned and most eloquent man. But from that undertaking I shrank far away and was greatly averse.
Dionysius Lambinus
To the cultivated and polished in the liberal arts, greetings.
Perhaps you will ask, most urbane reader, by what motives I—whose writings have never yet appeared in public and which might not yet have gained me any reputation among men—have undertaken to translate ten books of Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics (the very same books regarding moral conduct), which so many and so illustrious a succession of men had already rendered into Latin, as if I were, in any respect, more learned or more eloquent than they. But if you are that man whom I believe and wish you to be, you will have long since discovered—by consulting the volumes of other interpreters and comparing them with Aristotle speaking in his own Greek—how far those versions fall short, partly in the purity and integrity of their Latin, partly in adhering to Aristotle’s sense.
If, however, you have meanwhile learned those arts whereby, once instructed, you can judge Aristotle’s meaning and the fidelity and competence of interpreters, and yet still contend that Veronensis’s rendering surpasses all the rest, and deem that I ought to have been dissuaded from this undertaking by reason of his eloquence and renown, then I ask you, most excellent reader, before you reject and disparage my labor, to investigate diligently what other very learned men think of the other translators, and only afterwards begin to judge my plan and effort.
For Perionius—whose name you at once set against mine—I do not deny that he attained great success in his interpretation; rather, I assert that he excelled all who preceded him so completely that he barred every subsequent candidate from the avenue of praise and deprived them of the triumph that might otherwise have been theirs. Nor do I see why, if Perionius was not deterred by the unfamiliar ring of his name “Argyropilus,” anyone should have called me away from the most honorable pursuit of commending fully all Perionius’s merits. For what else shall we say was lacking in Argyropilus except polish and elegance of style? And who will claim that such defects were the man’s fault rather than the fault of his age? Any fair judge of these matters will easily agree.
How richly he flourished in the knowledge of hidden arts and in Greek letters! Who would dare to rank Perionius before Argyropilus? Yet Perionius—like a comic actor, so they say—even struck at Argyropilus with open ridicule, devised a new ploy to reject his work, and nearly boasted that he would extinguish Argyropilus’s interpretation. Thus, in Perionius’s judgment, Argyropilus proves a poor interpreter of Aristotle. So Perionius will judge the most illustrious men and, like a censor, displace them from their rank; but who among all mortals will dare to judge Perionius’s own writings? As for diminishing Perionius’s fame, I can offer no reason except that which someone might perceive even if I were silent. It is not my talent, nor my sense of honor, nor my custom to deprive any man of praise—especially one so outstanding in learning and eloquence.
When I was young, I read Perionius’s writings diligently, and whenever I compared them with Aristotle I embraced, approved, and admired his style of discourse as most fitting for my age and judgment. Gradually I advanced: through the study of approved authors, constant effort, and hardship, I strove to rescue myself from ignorance of letters. How far indeed I have progressed, and how much has accrued to me in learning as I have grown older, let that be for others to judge.
Whatever progress I have made by reading, it is my duty to form an opinion about Veronensis’s works. I can only affirm this clearly: that all the men of exceptional talent and learning whom I have met (and I have met many both in Gaul and in Italy) have partly lamented the lack of diligence in Veronensis’s work and partly altogether condemned all his writings as stamped with a single, uniform style. Very often the complaints of our Gauls joined in, and the most severe and bitter criticisms of the Italians, since these do not count Veronensis among the number of the eloquent. They complained that he had not interpreted Aristotle faithfully enough, nor rendered him with sufficient elegance, nor—so to speak—with full fluency from Greek into Latin.
Although I was somewhat shaken by both schools of opinion, I could not be induced to abandon my own long-held and deeply rooted estimation of Veronensis. I desired to see whether I myself could judge other men’s writings: I wished to test whether, out of malicious envy and a spirit of disparagement, Gauls and Italians would lightly criticize Veronensis’s Greek-to-Latin renderings, or whether they would judge them dispassionately and honestly. As for the other books of Aristotle that Veronensis has translated, I say nothing at present; there will be another occasion (if it is permissible) to speak of and to praise those as well.
But I undertook in hand those ten books on morals to Nicomachus, and compared them with the Greek Aristotle far more attentively than ever before. I will tell you, most courteous reader, what I think concerning the pretense…
[work in progress…]
Simon Gros 
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