to drift towards that slightly stilted archaic style so often
used to render great texts from the past; ‘sensible’ or on
other occasions ‘shrewd’ are choices that, depending on
the context, can combine accuracy with a prose that draws
less attention to itself as a translation.
So the constantly recurring question as one translates
The Prince is: what words would we use today to describe
the qualities and situations Machiavelli is talking about?
Of course sometimes there are no modern words, because
there are certain things – siege engines, cavalry attacks – that
we don’t talk about any more. On the whole, though,
Machiavelli is chiefly interested in psychology or, rather, in
the interaction of different personalities in crisis situations,
and here, so long as the translator avoids the temptation
to introduce misleading contemporary jargon, a great deal
can be done to get The Prince into clear, contemporary
English.
However, the difficulty of these lexical choices is infin-
itely compounded by Machiavelli’s wayward grammar and
extremely flexible syntax. Written in 1513, The Prince is not
easily comprehensible to Italians today. Recent editions of
the work are usually parallel texts with a modern Italian
translation printed beside the original. The obstacle for the
Italian reader, however, is hardly lexical at all – in the end
he can understand a good ninety per cent of the words
Machiavelli is using – r ather it has to do with a combination
of extreme compression of thought, obsolete, sometimes