It may, at first sight, appear strange that at a time when the Italian pastoral was exercising its greatest influence over the English drama this translation by Fraunce of Tasso’s play should have satisfied the demand for more than thirty years.  The explanation, of course, is that the widespread knowledge of Italian among the reading public in England rendered translation more or less superfluous[230], while at the same time it should be remembered that in this country Tasso was far surpassed in popularity by Guarini.  So far as we can tell no further translation of the Aminta was attempted till 1628, when there appeared an anonymous version which bibliographers have followed one another in ascribing to one John Reynolds, but which was more probably the work of a certain Henry Reynolds[231].  However that may be, the translation is of no inconsiderable merit, though this is more apparent when read apart from the original.  It bears evidence of having been written by a man capable of appreciating the poetry of Tasso, and one who, while unable to strike the higher chords of lyric composition, was yet able to render the Italian into graceful and unassuming, if seldom wholly musical or adequate, verse.  Thus the version hardly does itself justice in quotation, although the general impression produced is more pleasing and less often irritating than is the case with translations which many times reveal far higher qualities.  The following is a characteristic specimen chosen from the story of Aminta’s early love for Silvia.

    Being but a Lad, so young as yet scarce able
    To reach the fruit from the low-hanging boughes
    Of new-growne trees; Inward I grew to bee
    With a young mayde, fullest of love and sweetnesse,
    That ere display’d pure gold tresse to the winde;... 
    Neere our abodes, and neerer were our hearts;
    Well did our yeares agree, better our thoughts;
    Together wove we netts t’ intrapp the fish
    In flouds and sedgy fleetes[232]; together sett
    Pitfalls for birds; together the pye’d Buck
    And flying Doe over the plaines we chac’de;
    And in the quarry’, as in the pleasure shar’de: 
    But as I made the beasts my pray, I found
    My heart was lost, and made a pray to other. (I. ii.)

Many a translator, moreover, has failed to instil into his verse the swing and flow of the following stanzas from the golden age chorus, which, nevertheless follow the metrical form of the original with reasonable fidelity[233]: 

    O happy Age of Gould; happy’ houres;
    Not for with milke the rivers ranne,
    And hunny dropt from ev’ry tree;
    Nor that the Earth bore fruits, and flowres,
    Without the toyle or care of Man,
    And Serpents were from poyson free;... 
      But therefore only happy Dayes,
    Because that vaine and ydle name,
    That couz’ning Idoll of unrest,
    Whom the madd vulgar first