To the Reader
When that I had (gentle reader) slightly here and there run over the pleasant and delectable jests of Lucius Apuleius (a man of ancient descent, and endued with singular learning) written in such a frank and flourishing style, as he seemed to have the Muses at his will, to feed and maintain his pen. And when again I perceived the matter to minister such exceeding plenty of mirth, as never in my judgment the like hath been showed by any other, I purposed according to my slender knowledge (though it were rudely, and far disagreeing from the fine and excellent doings nowadays) to translate the same into our vulgar tongue, to the end that amongst so many sage and serious works (as every man well-nigh endeavour daily to increase) there might be some fresh and pleasant matter to recreate the minds of the readers withal. Howbeit I was eftsoons driven from my purpose by two causes: First, perceiving that the author had written his work in so dark and high a style, in so strange and absurd words, and in such new invented phrases, as he seemed rather to set it forth to show his magnificence of prose, than to participate his doings to other. Secondly, fearing least the translation of this present book (which seemeth a mere jest and fable, and a work worthy to be laughed at, by reason of the vanity of the author) might be condemned and despised of all men, and so consequently I to be had in derision, to occupy myself in such frivolous and trifling toys. But on the other side, when I had throughly learned the intent of the author, and the purpose why he invented so sportful a jest, I was verily persuaded that my small travel should not only be accepted by many, but the matter itself allowed and praised of all. Wherefore I intend, God willing, as nigh as I can, to utter and open the meaning thereof, to the simple and ignorant, whereby they may not take the same, as a thing only to jest and laugh at (for the fables of Aesop and the feigning of poets were never written for that purpose) but by the pleasantness thereof be rather induced to the knowledge of their present estate, and thereby transform themselves into the right and perfect shape of men. The argument of the book is, how Lucius Apuleius the author himself travelled into Thessaly, being a region in Greece, where all the women for the most part be such wonderful witches, that they can transform men into the figure of brute beasts: Where after he had continued a few days, by the mighty force of a violent confection he was changed into a miserable ass, and nothing might reduce him to his wonted shape but the eating of a rose, which after the endurance of infinite sorrow, at length he obtained by prayer. Verily under the wrap of this transformation is taxed the life of mortal men, when as we suffer our minds so to be drowned in the sensual lusts of the flesh, and the beastly pleasure thereof (which aptly may be called the violent confection of witches) that we lose wholly the use of reason and virtue, which properly should be in man, and play the parts of brute and savage beasts. By like occasion we read, how diverse of the companions of Ulysses were turned by the marvelous power of Circe into swine. And find we not in scripture, that Nebuchadnezzar the ninth King of Babylon, by reason of his great dominions and realms, fell into such exceeding pride, that he was suddenly transformed of almighty God into an horrible monster, having the head of an ox, the feet of a bear, and the tail of lion, and did eat hay as a beast. But as Lucius Apuleius was changed into his human shape by a rose, the companions of Ulysses by great intercession, and Nebuchadnezzar by the continual prayers of Daniel, whereby they knew themselves, and lived after a good and virtuous life: so can we never be restored to the right figure of ourselves, except we taste and eat the sweet rose of reason and virtue, which the rather by mediation of prayer we may assuredly attain. Again, may not the meaning of this work be altered and turned in this sort: A man desirous to apply his mind to some excellent art, or given to the study of any of the sciences, at the first appeareth to himself an ass without wit, without knowledge, and not much unlike a brute beast, till such time as by much pain and travel he hath achieved to the perfectness of the same, and tasting the sweet flower and fruit of his studies, doth think himself well brought to the right and very shape of a man.
Finally, the Metamorphosie of Lucius Apuleius may be resembled to youth without discretion, and his reduction to age possessed with wisdom and virtue.
Now since this book of Lucius is a figure of man’s life, and toucheth the nature and manners of mortal men, egging them forward from their asinall form, to their human and perfect shape, beside the pleasant and delectable jests therein contained, I trust if my simple translation be nothing accepted, yet the matter itself shall be esteemed by such as not only delight to please their fancies in reading the same, but also take a pattern thereby to regenerate their minds from brutish and beastly custom. Howbeit I have not so exactly passed through the author, as to point every sentence according as it is in Latin, or so absolutely translated every word as it lieth in the prose, (for so the French and Spanish translators have not done) considering the same in our vulgar tongue would have appeared very obscure and dark, and thereby consequently loathsome to the reader, but nothing erring as I trust from the true and natural meaning of the author, have used more common and familiar words, yet not so much as I might do, for the plainer setting forth of the same. But howsoever it be, gentle reader, I pray thee take it in good part, considering that for thee I have taken this pain, to the intent that thou mayst read the same with pleasure.