The Fall of Sinful Sally

The virtue-to-vice plot of Hannah Moore’s tract, The Story of Sinful Sally (1796), can be summarised as follows:

[1] Innocent Beginnings [stanzas 1–8]: Sally lives a virtuous, peaceful life with her parents in a rural cottage. At 17 she is courted, and is soon married.

[2] Seduction and Fall [stanzas 8–14]: As a result of her vanity, Sally is seduced by the local lord; she abandons her husband and parents to become the mistress of Sir William.

[3] London Hedonism [stanzas 15–25]: Sally moves to London, replacing her honest life of faith with a life of gloating luxury and superficial pleasure; her pangs of guilt grow.

[4] Descent to the Streets [stanzas 26–30]: Abandoned by Sir William, she loses her fortune and turns to prostitution, silencing her pangs of guilt and drowning her sorrow in gin.

[5] Life of Prostitution and Crime [stanzas 31–35]: She joins a criminal gang, entrapping a series of young men, swapping each one for another once they are caught and executed.

[6] Agonizing End [stanzas 36–43]: Thoroughly poxed, a dying Sally suffers profound remorse and begs for salvation.

Many editions of this cheerful tract are undated; the one I transcribe below was printed in 1807 according to Anna Blanch’s bibliography (in A Reassessment of the Authorship of the Cheap Repository Tract (MA thesis, 2009) online here).

I bought the tract largely because I loved the title, and the woodcut above of Sally leading a young man by the elbow into a shop selling “Wines”—although the text makes it clear that Drunken Sal is a gin drinker (“my sorrows are redoubled, / But I drown them all in gin”).

Before passing this tract onto Monash, I scanned it, with the intention of publishing on this blog both the image and the text. That was back in 2013. The less said the better about the thirteen-years of procrastination that followed.

* * * * *

There are a few editions of this 43-stanza, 172-line ballad, which are variously represented online. A full text is here. The text follows the 1796-edition, but is unnumbered and has a number of typos (such as stanza 8 “simming” for “sinning”; stanza 13 “creafty” for “crafty” etc.).

A partial reprint and summary (seemingly, not based on the 1796 edition) is here; a 41-stanza edited text (omitting stanzas 22 and 25, but with line numbers) is available here—in pdf, as an excerpt from Duncan Wu’s Romanticism: An Anthology, 4th ed. (2012), 76–81. The omission of two stanzas and some textual variation suggests that Wu's text might be an accurate representation of a later (shortened) edition of the text.

Apparently, you can listen to readings from the Story of Sinful Sally here. This page also links to images of a McMaster University copy of the first edition of The Story of Sinful Sally, from which I have taken the six woodcuts below.

* * * * *

THE STORY of SINFUL SALLY.

The Story of Sinful Sally, Told by Herself. Shewing how from being Sally of the Green she was first led to become Sinful Sally, and afterwards Drunken Sal, and how at last she came to a most melancholy and almost hopeless End; being therein a Warning to all young Women both in Town and Country.

[stanza 1]

Come each maiden lend an ear,
  Country Lass and London Belle!
Come and drop a mournful tear
  O’er the tale that I shall tell.

[stanza 2]

I that ask your tender pity,
  Ruin’d now and all forlorn,
Once, like you, was young and pretty,
  And as cheerful as the morn.

[stanza 3]

In yon distant Cottage sitting,
  Far away from London town,
Once you might have seen me knitting,
  In my simple kersey gown.

[stanza 4]

Where the little lambkins leap,
  Where the meadow looks so gay,
Where the drooping willows weep,
  Simple Sally us’d to stray.

[stanza 5]

Then I tasted many a blessing,
  Then I had an honest fame;
Father, mother me caressing,
  Smil’d and thought me free from blame.

[stanza 6]

Then, amid my friends so dear,
  Life it speeded fast away;
O! it moves a tender tear,
  To think how peaceful was the day!

[stanza 7]

From the villages surrounding,
  Ere I well had reach’d eighteen,
Came the modest youths abounding,
  All to Sally of the Green.

[stanza 8]

Courting days were thus beginning,
  And I soon had prov’d a wife;
O! if I had kept from sinning,
  Now how blest had been my life.

[stanza 9]

Come each maiden lend an ear,
  Country lass and London belle;
Come ye now and deign to hear
  How poor Sinful Sally fell:

[stanza 10]

Where the hill begins inclining,
  Half a furlong from the road,
O’er the village white and shining,
  Stands Sir William’s great abode.

[stanza 11]

Near his meadow I was tripping,
  Vainly wishing to be seen,
When Sir William met me skipping,
  And he spoke me on the green.

[stanza 12]

Bid me quit my cloak of scarlet,
  Blam’d my simple kersey gown;
Ey’d me then so like a varlet,
  Such as live in London town.

[stanza 13]

With his presents I was loaded,
  And bedeck’d in ribbons gay;
Thus my ruin was foreboded,
  O, how crafty was his way!

[stanza 14]

Vanish’d now from cottage lowly,
  My poor parents’ heart I break,
Enter on a state unholy,
  Turn a mistress to a rake.

[stanza 15]

Now no more by morning light
  Up to God my voice I raise;
Now no shadows of the night
  Call my thoughts to pray’r and praise.

[stanza 16]

Hark! a well known sound I hear!
  ’Tis the church’s Sunday bell!
No: I dread to venture near!
  No: I’m now the Child of Hell.

[stanza 17]

Now I lay my Bible by,
  Chuse that impious book so new;
Love the bold blaspheming lie,
  And that filthy novel too.

[stanza 18]

Next to London town I pass
  (Sinful Sally is my name,)
There to gain a front of brass,
  And to glory in my shame.

[stanza 19]

Powder’d well, and puff’d, and painted,
  Rivals all I there outshine;
With skin so white and heart so tainted,
  Rolling in my chariot fine.

[stanza 20]

In the Park I glitter daily,
  Then I dress me for the play,
Then to masquerade so gaily,
  See me, see me tear away.

[stanza 21]

When I meet some meaner lass,
  Then I toss with proud disdain;
Laugh and giggle as I pass,
  Seeming not to know a pain.

[stanza 22]

Still at every hour of leisure
  Something whispers me within,
“O! I hate this life of pleasure,
  For it is a life of sin.”

[stanza 23]

Thus amidst my peals of laughter
  Horror seizes oft my frame:
Pleasure now—Damnation after,
  And a never-dying flame.

[stanza 24]

“Save me, save me, Lord,” I cry,
  “Save my soul from Satan’s chain!”
Now I see salvation nigh,
  Now I turn to sin again.

[stanza 25]

Is it then some true repentance
  That I feel for evil done?
No: ’tis horror of my sentence,
  ’Tis the pangs of hell begun.

[stanza 26]

By a thousand ills o’ertaken,
  See me now quite sinking down,
’Till so lost and so forsaken,
  Sal is cast upon the town.

[stanza 27]

At the dusk of evening grey,
  Forth I step from secret cell;
Roaming like a beast of prey,
  Or some hateful imp of Hell.

[stanza 28]

Ah! How many youths so blooming
  By my wanton looks I’ve won;
Then by vices all consuming,
  Left them ruin’d and undone!

[stanza 29]

Thus the cruel spider stretches
  Wide his web for every fly,
Then each victim that he catches
  Strait he poisons till he die.

[stanza 30]

Now no more by conscience troubled,
  Deep I plunge in every sin,
True—my sorrows are redoubled,
  But I drown them all in gin.

[stanza 31]

See me next with front so daring
  Band of ruffian rogues among;
Fighting, cheating, drinking, swearing,
  And the vilest of the throng.

[stanza 32]

Mark the youngest of the thieves;
  Taught by Sal he ventures further,
What he filches Sal receives,
  ’Tis for Sal he does the murther.

[stanza 33]

See me then attend my victim,
  To the fatal gallows tree;
Pleas’d to think how I have nick’d him,
  Made him swing while I am free.

[stanza 34]

Jack I laughing see depart,
  While with Dick I drink and sing,
Soon again I’ll fill the cart,
  Make this present lover swing.

[stanza 35]

But while thus with guilt surprising,
  Sal pursues her bold career,
See God’s dreadful wrath arising,
  And the Day of Vengeance near.

[stanza 36]

Fierce disease my body seizes,
  Racking pain afflicts my bones;
Dread of death my spirit freezes,
  Deep and doleful are my groans.

[stanza 37]

Here with face so shrunk and spotted
  On the clay cold ground I lie;
See how all my flesh is rotted,
  Stop, O stranger, see me die!

[stanza 38]

Conscience, as my breath’s departing,
  Plunges too his arrow deep,
With redoubled fury starting,
  Like some giant in his sleep.

[stanza 39]

In this pit of ruin lying,
  Once again before I die,
Fainting, trembling, weeping, sighing,
  Lord, to thee I lift mine eye.

[stanza 40]

Thou cans’t save the vilest harlot,
  Grace I’ve heard is free and full,
Sins that once were “red as scarlet
  Thou can’st make as white as wool.”

[stanza 41]

Savior, whom I’ve pierc’d so often,
  Deeper still my guilt imprint!
Let thy mighty spirit soften,
  This my harden’d heart of flint.

[stanza 42]

Vain, alas! is all my groaning,
  For I fear the die is cast;
True, thy blood is all atoning,
  But my day of grace is past.

[stanza 43]

Savior! hear me or I perish!
  None who lives is quite undone;
Still a Ray of Hope I’ll cherish
  ’Till eternity’s begun.

THE END.

A French Review of Haywood's Letter from Henry Goring

Eliza Haywood's Ab.66 A Letter from H---- G----g Esq; One of the Gentlemen of the Bed-chamber to the Young Chevalier … To a Particular Friend (1749) was translated as Lettre de H.... G....g Ecuyer, un des Gentilshommes de la Chambre du jeune Chevalier de S. George … qui l'ait accompagne d'Avignon … Traduite de l'Anglois par M. l'Abbe *** (1756).

This French translation was reviewed (in French) in L'Année littéraire, 7 (1756): 38–43, which is online here (as previously noted on this blog), but also here. Below is my transcription and translation (via Google Translate). If anyone cares to improve on either transcription or translation please let me know.

* * * * *

Lettre sur le Prétendant.

  L'histoire des disgraces du Prince Edouard a fait autrefois, Monsieur, le sujet d'une de mes Lettres *. Les voyages de ce Prince depuis son départ d'Avignon jusqu'à son arrivée en Lithuanie font la matière d'une brochure in-12 qui se vend chez Prault, Quai de Conti, à la descente du Pont-Neuf. Elle est intitulée: Lettre de H..... G.... G.... Ecuyer, un des Gentilshommes de la Chambre du jeune Chevalier de Saint George, et la seule personne de sa Cour qui l'ait accompagné d'Avignon dans son voyage en Allemagne et autres lieux: contenant plusieurs aventures touchantes et remarquables qui sont arrivées à ce Prince pendant le cours de son voyagé secret: à un ami particulier; traduite de l'Anglois par M. l'Abbé ***.
  On raconte dans cette Lettre vraie ou prétendue qu'un gentilhomme, qui se faisoit appeller le Chevalier de la Luze, étant arrivé à Avignon, eut avec le Prince des conférences secrettes, et partit peu de jours après. Le Prince ne tarda pas à le suivre, accompagné seulement d'un gentilhomme, d'un valet de chambre et de deux domestiques. Pour n'être point connu, il se fit appeller le Comte d'Espoir, et il prit sa route par Lyon. Il descendit dans un village à deux lieues plus loin que cette ville; il s'enferma dans une chambre, passa la nuit à écrire des lettres, et le lendemain il renvoya tout son monde excepté son gentilhomme. L'hôte chez lequel il logeoit lui trouva d'autres domestiques. Le Prince continua sa route par Dijon et par Nancy, et il arriva à Strasbourg où le Chevalier de la Luze lui avoit fait préparer un logement. Quelques jours après le feu prit pendant la nuit dans une maison qui étoit vis à-vis de son appartement. Il fut bientôt éveillé par le bruit; il s'habilla et sortit pour aller au secours. Ses gens voulurent le retenir: Eh quoi, s'écria-t-il, sommes nous donc nés pour avoir soin seulement de nous mêmes? Et aussi-tôt il vole à l'endroit où le feu faisoit le plus de ravage. L'objet qui le frappe d'abord est une jeune femme qui avoit la moitié du corps passé hors de la fenêtre, et qui crioit au secours parce qu'elle étoit dans une chambre où le feu avoit pris de toutes parts. Le Prince lui dit de se jetter en bas, et qu'il la recevroit dans ses bras. Il la reçut en effet sans qu'elle se fît aucun mal; et comme elle étoit en chemise, dit l'auteur, il l'emporta chez lui, la mit dans son lit, l'enveloppa dans ses couvertures pour empêcher qu'elle ne s'enrhumât. La crainte du danger avoit fait perdre connoissance à cette jeune et aimable personne, de sorte que pendant tout ce temps elle sut totalement insensible au soin qu'il prenoit d'elle. Le Prince de son' côté, loin de profiter de l'état où elle se troavoit, ne s'occupoit qu'à la saire revenir de son évanouissement. Quand elle eut repris ses sens, il la, recommanda à la maîtresse du logis, et retourna au feu qui duroit toujours. Le lendemain il dîna avec la jeune Demoiselle, le Chevalier de lu Luze, et son gentilhomme. Le repas sut gai, la conversation tendre et galante; et la Demoiselle, pénétrée de reconnoissance et frappée des vertus et de la bonne mine de son libérateur, se troubla, quitta la table, et alla prendre l'air un moment à la fenêtre. Le Prince la suivit et lui parla; la Luze et son gentilhomme voulurent le laisser seul avec elle. Il les retint auprès de lui dans la crainte qu'un tête à tête ne lui fît perdre le prix de son bienfait. Il se sépara de cette charmante personne, comme Aléxandre qui voyant la beauté des filles de Darius se retira sur le champ de leur présence.
  Tandis que le Prince Edouard étoit à Avignon, un Anglois, qui se disoit gentilhomme, étoit venu lui demander un emploi auprès de fa personne. Comme ìl n'y en avoit point de vacant, le Prince lui donna quelque argent, et lui permit de venir manger dans son palais. On le soupçonna bientôt d'être un imposteur et un espion. On communiqua ces soupçons au Prince: cela pourroit bien être, répondit-il; mais nous n'en sommes pas certains; nous sçavons seulement qu'il est dans le besoin; et j'aimerois mieux secourir cent ennemis que de refuser à un ami, sur un simple soupçon, le peu de secours que je puis lui donner. Cet homme avoit disparu quelque temps avant le départ du Prince; on sut fort étonné de le retrouver à Strasbourg dans l'hôtellerie où logeoit son Altesse Royale. Le jout même le Prince quitta Strasbourg, passa le Rhin, et continua sa route par Wirtzbourg. A quelque distance de cette ville, cinq hommes bien montés, masqués et armés, déchargèrent leurs pistolets tous à la fois et sans dire mot dans la chaise où étoit le Prince. Aucune des balles ne le blessa; il sauta de sa chaise, sit feu à son tour contre les assassins, en tua deux, et mit les autres en suite. Un des morts écoit le traître à qui son Alteste Royale avoit donné de l'argent à Avignon.
  Le Prince partit pour Léipsick, et le Chevalier de la Luze, après avoir exécuté sa commission en le conduisant en une certaine Cour d'Allemagne où il demeura dix jours, prit congé de lui. Edouard, accompagné seulement de son gentilhomme et de deux domestiques, passa dans différens Etats dont les Souverains n'étoient pas tous également disposés en sa faveur. A son arrivée en Lithuanie il reçut la visite d'une personne très-illustre qui lui est intimement attachée. Il eut avec elle plusieurs entrevues secrettes dans un château appartenant à la maison de Wizinski. Bien des gens, dit l'auteur, ont assûré que ce Prince étoit marié; mais rien n'est plus faux; il est vrai, ajoûte-t-il, qu'il aime une Princesse et qu'il en est aimé, et que, si ses affaires prennent une face plus favorable, cette union ne tardera pas à se faire; mais dans la position où il est actuellement il ne veut point se marier, pour ne pas devenir père, comme il dit lui-même, de mendians Royaux. Voilà, Monsieur, jusqu'où l'auteur de cette Lettre a conduit son héros. Il ne nous apprend ni ce qu'il devient, ni quel est le but de son voyage. Cette brochure est d'ailleurs très-mal écrite.

*Voyez l'Année Littéraire 1756, Tome II page 289.

Letter about the Pretender.

  The story of Prince Edward's misfortunes was once, Sir, the subject of one of my letters.* The travels of this Prince from his departure from Avignon to his arrival in Lithuania form the subject of a small octavo pamphlet sold at Prault's, Quai de Conti, near the Pont-Neuf. It is entitled: Letter from H..... G.... G.... Esquire, one of the Gentlemen of the Chamber to the young Chevalier de Saint George, and the only person of his Court who accompanied him from Avignon on his journey to Germany and other places: containing several touching and remarkable adventures that befell this Prince during the course of his secret journey: to a special friend; translated from the English by Abbot ***.
  This letter, true or purported, recounts that a gentleman calling himself the Chevalier de la Luze arrived in Avignon, held secret conferences with the Prince, and departed a few days later. The Prince soon followed him, accompanied only by a gentleman, a valet, and two servants. To remain anonymous, he called himself the Count d'Espoir and made his way through Lyon. He stopped in a village two leagues beyond the city, shut himself in a room, spent the night writing letters, and the next day dismissed everyone except his gentleman. The innkeeper where he stayed found him other servants. The Prince continued his journey via Dijon and Nancy, arriving in Strasbourg where the Chevalier de la Luze had arranged lodgings for him. A few days later, a fire broke out during the night in a house opposite his apartment. He was soon awakened by the noise; he dressed and went out to help. His servants tried to stop him: "What!" he cried, "were we born to only take care of ourselves?" And immediately he flew to the place where the fire was raging the most. The first thing that struck him was a young woman who had half her body hanging out of a window, crying for help because she was in a room that was ablaze on all sides. The Prince told her to throw herself down, and that he would catch her in his arms. He did indeed catch her without her being harmed; And as she was in her shift, the author says, he took her home, put her in his bed, and wrapped her in his blankets to prevent her from catching a cold. The fear of danger had caused this young and charming person to lose consciousness, so that during all this time she remained completely unmoved by his care for her. The Prince, for his part, far from taking advantage of her condition, was only concerned with helping her recover from her faint. When she had regained her senses, he commended her to the lady of the house and returned to the fire, which was still burning. The next day he dined with the young lady, the Chevalier de Luze, and his gentleman. The meal was cheerful, the conversation tender and gallant; And the young lady, filled with gratitude and struck by the virtues and handsome appearance of her liberator, became flustered, left the table, and went to the window for a moment to get some fresh air. The Prince followed her and spoke to her; Luze and her gentleman wished to leave him alone with her. He kept them with him, fearing that a private conversation might cause him to lose the reward of his kindness. He parted from this charming woman, like Alexander who, upon seeing the beauty of Darius's daughters, withdrew immediately from their presence.
  While Prince Edward was in Avignon, an Englishman, who called himself a gentleman, came to ask him for a position in his household. As there was no vacancy, the Prince gave him some money and allowed him to dine in his palace. He was soon suspected of being an imposter and a spy. These suspicions were communicated to the Prince: "That could well be true," he replied, "but we are not certain; we only know that he is in need; and I would rather help a hundred enemies than refuse a friend, on mere suspicion, the little help I can give him." This man had disappeared some time before the Prince's departure; everyone was quite astonished to find him in Strasbourg at the inn where His Royal Highness was staying. That very day, the Prince left Strasbourg, crossed the Rhine, and continued his journey via Wirtzburg. Some distance from this city, five well-mounted, masked, and armed men discharged their pistols all at once and without a word into the chair where the Prince was sitting. None of the bullets wounded him; he jumped from his chair, returned fire on the assassins, killed two, and put the others to death. One of the dead receives the traitor to whom His Royal Highness had given money in Avignon.
  The Prince departed for Leipzig, and the Chevalier de la Luze, after carrying out his mission by escorting him to a certain German court where he remained for ten days, took his leave. Edward, accompanied only by his gentleman-in-waiting and two servants, traveled through various states whose sovereigns were not all equally well-disposed towards him. Upon his arrival in Lithuania, he received a visit from a very illustrious person to whom he was intimately attached. He had several secret meetings with her in a castle belonging to the House of Wizinski. Many people, the author says, have asserted that this Prince was married; but nothing could be further from the truth; it is true, he adds, that he loves a Princess and is loved in return, and that, if his affairs take a more favorable turn, this union will soon take place. But in his current situation, he refuses to marry, so as not to become, as he himself says, a father of royal beggars. There you have it, sir, how far the author of this letter has taken his hero. He tells us neither what becomes of him, nor the purpose of his journey. Moreover, this pamphlet is very poorly written.

*See Année Littéraire 1756, Volume 2, page 289.

For for a complete list of reviews of Eliza Haywood's works—including works in translation, such as this—see here.

Another French Review of The Rash Resolve

In 2023, I located this, a second, very short review of Emanuella (An 9), the 1801 French translation of Haywood’s The Rash Resolve (1724).

This review appeared in Nouvelle bibliothèque des romans [the New Library of Novels], Vol. 36 (An 3 [1800]): 187 (online here and here), in the section for "Des Romans qui ont paru dans le premier trimester de la troisième année de la Bibliothèque des Romans [Novels that were published in the first quarter of the third year of the Bibliothèque des Romans].

* * * * *

EMANUELLA, ou la Découverte prématurée, par madame Elise Haywood; 1 vol. avec figures, traduit de l'anglais. Paris chez Ouvrier, libraire, rue Saint-André-des-Arcs, no. 41.

  Séduite par un jeune homme, volée par son amie, Emanuella est reçue par une pauvre femme elle accouche d'un fils, reconnaît son amant qui est devenu l'époux d'une autre, et meurt de chagrin: style agréable, et de l'intérêt.

[EMANUELLA, or the Premature Discovery, by Mrs. Eliza Haywood; 1 vol. with illustrations, translated from English. Paris, at Ouvrier, bookseller, rue Saint-André-des-Arcs, no. 41

Seduced by a young man, robbed by her friend, Emanuella is taken in by a poor woman, she gives birth to a son, recognizes her lover who has become the husband of another, and dies of grief: a pleasant style, and of interest.]

For for a complete list of reviews of Eliza Haywood's works—including works in translation, such as this—see here.

A German Review of Jenny and Jemmy Jessamy

Haywood's The History of Jenny and Jemmy Jessamy (1753) was translated into German as Die Schule des Ehestandes, oder die Geschichte Herrn Jacob Jessamy und Miß Jenny Jessamys (1777).

A short review of this edition appeared in Allgemeines Verzeichniß neuer Bücher, mit kurzen Anmerkungen nebst einem gelehrten Anzeiger, Auf das Jahr 1777 [i.e., General list of new books, with brief notes and a scholarly review, for the year 1777].

I missed this review when I was researching my Bibliography of Eliza Haywood in 2004, but I stumbled upon it on Google Books in 2022, and it has been in my backlog of posts since then. Below is my transcription and translation (via Google Translate). If anyone cares to improve on either transcription or translation please let me know.

Allgemeines Verzeichniß neuer Bücher, vol. 2, no. 11 (November 1777): 838 (No. 1695) (here and here):

1695. Die Schule des Ehestandes, oder die Geschichte Herrn Jacob Jessamy und Miß Jenny Jessamys, von dem Verfasser der Geschichte der Elisabeth Thougthleß. Aus dem Englischen übersetzt. Drey Theile. Lüneburg, bey Joh. Friedr. Wilhelm Semcke, 1777. 2 Alphab[ete]. 1¼ Bogen in 8. I thlr. 4gr.

So sehe auch Deutschland von theils eignen, theils fremben Romanen wimmelt, so zeichnen sich doch diejenigen, die aus dem Englischen übergetragen werden, immer noch am meisten aus. Der gegenwärtige, dessen Verfasser sich schon durch die Geschichte der Elisabeth Thoughtleß bekannt gemacht hat, enthalt zwar nichts Außerordentliches, es geht alles nach der gewöhnlichen Art, aber demohnerachtet ift er nicht übel geschrieben, und läßt sich ganz wohl lesen.

[1695. The School of Marriage, or the Story of Mr. Jacob Jessamy and Miss Jenny Jessamy, by the author of the History of Elizabeth Thoughtless. Translated from the English. Three parts. Lüneburg, published by Joh. Friedr. Wilhelm Semcke, 1777. 2 alphabets [plus] 1¼ gatherings in 8vo [i.e., 47¼ signed 8vo gatherings]. 1 thaler, 4 groschen.

Although Germany teems with novels, some native and some foreign, those translated from English are still the ones that stand out the most. The present work, whose author is already known for The History of Elizabeth Thoughtless, contains nothing extraordinary; it all proceeds in the usual manner. Nevertheless, it is not badly written and is quite easy to read.]

For for a complete list of reviews of Eliza Haywood's works—including works in translation, such as this—see here.

Ye Foolish Book Collector

Above and below are four versions of an image I generated using Google's free AI tool—i.e., via the Google browser. It used Nano Bannana to generate the images. My initial prompt was "Create an image in the style of Hans Holbein the Younger’s The Dance of Death series, for the type of book collector depicted in Sebastian Brant's Das Narrenschiff."

I refined the image by asking it to remove the top banner; then "[1] Remove the fools cap from the skeleton reaching for the book; [2] add a simple constellation symbol to the blank pages on book at bottom right (above the banner), such as those found in Hygini, Poeticon Astronomicon"

Of the four images, I like the most the second one above, and this last one below—which is closest to what I had in mind.

Although I was delighted with the images, I was most impressed by the persistence (?)—how well Nano Bannana maintained the integrity of the original image, while modifying small details. This is a huge improvement on what image generators could do only twelve months ago.