Chapter 3

first line of Oberon's speech to Puck before the entrance of Demetrius and Hermia:

"This falls out better than I could devise."

and resumes with Oberon's words:

"I'll to my queen and beg her Indian boy,"

and includes (with the omission of the last two lines) Oberon's speech beginning:

"But we are spirits of another sort."

Eggen then jumps to the fourth act and translates Titania's opening speech. After this there is a break till the entrance of Oberon. The dialogue between Titania and Oberon is given faithfully, except that in the speech in which Oberon removes the incantation, all the lines referring to the wedding of Theseus are omitted; the speeches of Puck, Oberon, and Titania immediately preceding the entrance of Theseus, Hippolyta, Egeus, and their train, are rendered.

From Act V the entire second scene is given.

Eggen has, then, attempted to give a translation into Norwegian Landsmaal of the fairy scenes in _A Midsummer Night's Dream_. He has confined himself severely to his task as thus limited, even cutting out lines from the middle of speeches when these lines refer to another part of the action or to another group of characters. What we have is, then, a fragment, to be defended only as an experiment, and successful in proportion as it renders single lines, speeches, or songs well. On the whole, Eggen has been successful. There is a vigor and directness in his style which, indeed, seem rather Norwegian than Shakespearean, but which are, nevertheless, entirely convincing. One is scarcely conscious that it is a translation. And in the lighter, more romantic passages Eggen has hit the right tone with entire fidelity. His knowledge is sound. His notes, though exhibiting no special learning, show clearly that he is abreast of modern scholarship. Whenever his rendering seems daring, he accompanies it with a note that clearly and briefly sets forth why a particular word or phrase was chosen. The standard Danish, Norwegian, and German translations are known to him, and occasionally he borrows from them. But he knows exactly why he does borrow. His scholarship and his real poetic power combine to give us a translation of which Landsmaal literature has every reason to be proud. We need give only a few passages. I like the rollicking humor of Puck's words:

Kor torer uhengt kjeltrings pakk daa skvaldre so nære vogga hennar alvemor? Kva?--skodespel i gjerdom? Eg vil sjaa paa-- kann hende spele med, um so eg synest.

And a little farther on when Bottom, adorned with his ass's head, returns with Puck, and the simple players flee in terror and Puck exclaims:

Eg fylgjer dykk og fører rundt i tunn, i myr og busk og ormegras og klunger, og snart eg er ein hest og snart ein hund, ein gris, ein mannvond bjørn, snart flammetungur, og kneggjer, gøyr og ryler, murrar, brenn, som hest, hund, gris, bjørn, varme--eitt um senn.

we give our unqualified admiration to the skill of the translator. Or, compare Titania's instructions to the faries to serve her Bottom:

Ver venlege imot og tén den herren! Dans vænt for augo hans, hopp der han gjeng! Gjev aprikos og frukt fraa blaabærlid, ei korg med druvur, fikjur, morbær i! Stel honningsekken bort fraa annsam bi! Til Nattljos hennar voksbein slit i fleng,-- kveik deim paa jonsok-onn i buskeheng! Lys for min ven, naar han vil gaa i seng. Fraa maala fivreld slit ein fager veng, og fraa hans augo maaneljose steng. Hels honom so, og kyss til honom sleng.

_Fyrste Alven_: Menneskje.

_Andre Alven_: Heil deg!

_Tridje Alven_: Heil!

_Fjerde Alven_: Heil og sæl!

_Titania_: Tén honom so! Leid honom til mitt rom! Eg tykkjer maanen er i augo vaat; og naar han græt, daa græt kvar litin blom, og minnest daa ei tilnøydd dygd med graat. Legg handi paa hans munn! Og stilt far aat!

It is, however, in his exquisitely delicate rendering of the songs of this play--certainly one of the most difficult tasks that a translator can undertake--that Eggen has done his best work. There is more than a distant echo of the original in this happy translation of Bottom's song:

Han trostefar med svarte kropp og nebb som appelsin, og gjerdesmett med litin topp og stare med tone fin. Og finke, sporv og lerke graa og gauk,--ho, ho![34] han lær, so tidt han gjev sin næste smaa; men aldri svar han fær.

[34. The translator explains in a note the pun in the original.]

The marvelous richness of the Norwegian dialects in the vocabulary of folklore is admirably brought out in the song with which the fairies sing Titania to sleep:[35]

_Ein alv_: Spettut orm med tungur tvo, kvass bust-igel, krjup kje her! Øle, staal-orm, fara no, kom vaar alvemor ei nær!

_Alle alvene_: Maaltrost, syng med tone full du med oss vaart bysselull: bysse, bysse, bysselull, ei maa vald, ei heksegald faa vaar dronning ottefull; so god natt og bysselull.

_Ein annan alv_: Ingi kongrov vil me sjaa, langbeint vevekjering, gakk! Svart tordivel, burt her fraa, burt med snigil og med makk!

_Alle alvene_: Maaltrost, syng med tone full du med oss vaart bysselull: bysse, bysse, bysselull, bysse, bysse, bysselull, ei maa vald, ei heksegald faa vaar dronning ottefull; so god natt og bysselull.

[35. Act II, Sc. 2.]

It is easy to draw upon this fragment for further examples of felicitous translation. It is scarcely necessary, however. What has been given is sufficient to show the rare skill of the translator. He is so fortunate as to possess in a high degree what Bayard Taylor calls "secondary inspiration," without which the work of a translator becomes a soulless mass and frequently degenerates into the veriest drivel. Erik Eggen's _Alveliv_ deserves a place in the same high company with Taylor's _Faust_.

Nine years later, in 1912, Eggen returned to the task he had left unfinished with the fairy scenes in _Syn og Segn_ and gave a complete translation of _A Midsummer Night's Dream_. In a little prefatory note he acknowledges his indebtedness to Arne Garborg, who critically examined the manuscript and gave valuable suggestions and advice. The introduction itself is a restatement in two pages of the Shakespeare-Essex-Leicester-Elizabeth story. Shakespeare recalls the festivities as he saw them in youth when he writes in Act II, Sc. 2:

thou rememberest Since once I sat upon a promontory, And heard a mermaid upon a dolphin's back, etc.

And it is Elizabeth he has in mind when, in the same scene, we read:

That very time I saw, but thou could'st not, Flying between the cold moon and the earth, Cupid all armed, etc.

All of this is given by way of background, and it is of little importance to the general readers what modern Shakespeare scholars may say of it.

Eggen has not been content merely to reprint in the complete translation his earlier work from _Syn og Segn_, but he has made a thoroughgoing revision.[36] It cannot be said to be altogether happy. Frequently, of course, a line or phrase is improved or an awkward turn straightened out, but, as a whole, the first version surpasses the second not in poetic beauty merely, but in accuracy. Compare, for example, the two renderings of the opening lines:

SYN OG SEGN--1903

_Nissen_: Kor no ande! seg, kvar skal du av?

REVISION OF 1912

_Tuften_: Hallo! Kvar skal du av, du vesle vette?

_Alven_: Yver dal, yver fjell, gjenom vatn, gjenom eld, yver gras, yver grind, gjenom klunger so stinn, yver alt eg smett og kliv snøggare enn maanen sviv; eg i gras dei ringar doggar, der vaar mori dans seg voggar.

_Alven_: Yver dal, yver fjell, gjenom vatn, gjenom eld, yver gras, yver grind, gjenom klunger so stinn, alle stad'r eg smett og kliv snøggare enn maanen sviv; eg dogge maa dei grøne straa som vaar dronning dansar paa.

Hennar vakt mun symrur vera, gyllne klæde mun dei bera; sjaa dei stjernur alvar gav deim! Derfraa kjem all angen av deim. Aa sanke dogg--til de eg kom; ei perle fester eg til kvar ein blom. Far vel, du ande-styving! Eg maa vekk; vaar dronning er her ho paa fljugand' flekk.

Kvart nykelband er adelsmann, med ordenar dei glime kann; kvar blank rubin, paa bringa skin, utsender ange fin. Doggdropar blanke skal eg sanke, mange, mange, dei skal hange kvar av hennar adels-mennar glimande i øyra.

[36. William Shakespeare--_Jonsok Draumen_--Eit Gamenspel. Paa Norsk ved Erik Eggen. Oslo, 1912.]

Now, admitting that

eg dogge maa dei grøne straa som vaar dronning dansar paa.

is a better translation than in the _Syn og Segn_ text--which is doubtful enough--it is difficult to see what can be the excuse for such pompous banality as

Kvart nykelband er adelsmann, med ordenar dei glime kann;

the first version is not above reproach in this respect. It might fairly be asked: where does Eggen get his authority for

sjaa dei stjernur alvar gav deim!

But the lines are not loaded down with imagery which is both misleading and in bad taste. Eggen should have left his first version unchanged. Such uninspired prose as:

kvar blank rubin, paa bringa skin, utsender ange fin.

have to the ears of most Norwegians the atmosphere of the back stairs. Better the unadorned version of 1903.

In the passage following, Robin's reply, the revised version is probably better than the first, though there seems to be little to choose between them. But in the fairy's next speech the translator has gone quite beyond his legitimate province, and has improved Shakespeare by a picture from Norwegian folklore. Following the lines of the original:

Misleade nightwanderers, laughing at their harm,

Eggen has added this homelike conception in his translation:

som òg kann draga fôr til hest og naut, naar berre du kvar torsdag fær din graut.

Shakespeare in Elysium must have regretted that he was not born in the mountains of Norway!

And when Robin, in the speech that follows, tells of his antics, one wonders just a little what has been gained by the revision. The same query is constantly suggested to anyone who compares the two texts.

Nor do I think that the lyrics have gained by the revision. Just a single comparison--the lullaby in the two versions. We have given it above as published in _Syn og Segn_. The following is its revised form:

_Fyrste alven_: Spettut orm, bustyvel kvass, eiter-ødle, sleve graa, fare burt fraa denne plass, so vaar dronning sova maa!

_Alle_: Maaltrost, syng med oss i lund dronningi i sælan blund: Byssam, byssam barne, gryta heng i jarne. Troll og nykk, gakk burt med dykk denne sæle skymingsstund! So god natt! Sov søtt i lund!

_Andre alven_: Burt, tordivel, kom kje her! Makk og snigill, burt dykk vinn! Kongro, far ei onnor ferd, langt ifraa oss din spune spinn!

_Alle_: Maaltrost, syng med oss i lund, etc.

The first version is not only more literal but, so far as I can judge, superior in every way--in music and delicacy of phrase. And again, Eggen has taken it upon himself to patch up Shakespeare with homespun rags from his native Norwegian parish. It is difficult to say upon what grounds such tinkerings with the text as:

Byssam, byssam barne, gryta, heng i jarne,

can be defended.

But we have already devoted too much space to this matter. Save for a few isolated lines, Eggen might very well have left these scenes as he gave them to us in 1903. We then ask, "What of the much greater part of the play now translated for the first time?" Well, no one will dispute the translator's triumph in this scene:[37]

_Mønsaas_: Er heile kompanie samla?

_Varp_: Det er best du ropar deim upp alle saman, mann for mann, etter lista.

_Mønsaas_: Her er ei liste yver namni paa alle deim som me i heile Atén finn mest høvelege til aa spela i millomstykke vaareses framfyre hertugen og frua hans paa brudlaupsdagen um kvelden.

_Varp_: Du Per Mønsaas, lyt fyrst segja kva stykke gjeng ut paa; les so upp namni paa spelarne, og so--til saki.

_Mønsaas_: Ja vel. Stykke heiter: "Det grøtelege gamanspele um Pyramus og Tisbi og deira syndlege daude."

_Varp_: Verkeleg eit godt stykke arbeid, skal eg segja dykk, og morsamt med. No, min gode Per Mønsaas, ropa upp spelarne etter lista. Godtfolk, spreid dykk.

_Mønsaas_: Svara ettersom eg ropar dykk upp. Nils Varp, vevar?

_Varp_: Her! Seg kva for ein rolle eg skal hava, og haldt so fram.

_Mønsaas_: Du, Nils Varp, er skrivin for Pyramus.

_Varp_: Kva er Pyramus for slags kar? Ein elskar eller ein fark?

_Mønsaas_: Ein elskar som drep seg sjølv paa ægte riddarvis av kjærleik.

_Varp_: Det kjem til aa koste taarur um ein spelar det retteleg. Fær eg spela det, so lyt nok dei som ser paa, sjaa til kvar dei hev augo sine; eg skal grøte steinen, eg skal jamre so fælt so. For resten, mi gaave ligg best for ein berserk. Eg skulde spela herr Kules fraamifra--eller ein rolle, der eg kann klore og bite og slaa all ting i mòl og mas: Og sprikk det fjell med toresmell, daa sunder fell kvar port so sterk. Stig Føbus fram bak skyatram, daa sprikk med skam alt gygere-herk. Det der laag no høgt det. Nemn so resten av spelarane. Dette var rase til herr Kules, berserk-ras; ein elskar er meir klagande.

[37. Act II, Sc. 2.]

There can be no doubt about the genuineness of this. It catches the spirit of the original and communicates it irresistibly to the reader. When Bottom (Varp) says "Kva er Pyramus for slags kar?" or when he threatens, "Eg skal grøte steinen, eg skal jamre so fælt so," one who has something of Norwegian "Sprachgefühl" will exclaim that this is exactly what it should be. It is not the language of Norwegian artisans--they do not speak Landsmaal. But neither is the language of Shakespeare's craftsmen the genuine spoken language of Elizabethan craftsmen. The important thing is that the tone is right. And this feeling of a right tone is still further satisfied in the rehearsal scene (III, Sc. 1). Certain slight liberties do not diminish our pleasure. The reminiscence of _Richard III_ in Bottom's, "A calendar, a calendar, looke in the Almanack, finde out moonshine," translated "Ei almanakke, ei almanakke, mit kongerike for ei almanakke," seems, however, a labored piece of business. One line, too, has been added to this speech which is a gratuitous invention of the translator, or rather, taken from the curious malaprop speech of the laboring classes; "Det er rett, Per Mønsaas; sjaa millom aspektarane!" There can be no objection to an interpolation like this if the translation does not aim to be scholarly and definitive, but merely an effort to bring a foreign classic home to the masses. And this is, obviously, Eggen's purpose. Personally I do not think, therefore, that there is any objection to a slight freedom like this. But it has no place at all in the fairies' lullaby.

When we move to the circle of the high-place lovers or the court, I cannot feel that the Landsmaal is quite so convincing. There is something appallingly clumsy, labored, hard, in this speech of Hermia's:

Min eigin gut, eg sver ved beste bogen Amor hev, ved beste pili hans, med odd av gull, ved duvune, dei reine og dei kvite som flyg paa tun hjaa fagre Afrodite, ved det som knyter mannehjarto saman, ved det som føder kjærlerks fryd og gaman, ved baale, der seg dronning Dido brende, daa seg Æneas trulaus fraa ho vende, ved kvar den eid som falske menn hev svori-- langt fleir enn kvinnelippur fram hev bori, at paa den staden du hev nemnt for meg, der skal i morgo natt eg møte deg.

In spite of the translator's obvious effort to put fire into the passage, his failure is all too evident. Even the ornament of these lines--to which there is nothing to correspond in the original--only makes the poetry more forcibly feeble:

ved duvune, dei reine og dei kvite som flyg paa tun hjaa fagre Afrodite,

Shakespeare says quite simply:

By the simplicity of Venus Doves,

and to anyone but a Landsmaal fanatic it seems ridiculous to have Theseus tell Hermia: "Demetrius er so gild ein kar som nokon." "Demetrius is a worthy gentleman," says Shakespeare and this has "the grand Manner." But to a cultivated Norwegian the translation is "Bauernsprache," such as a local magnate might use in forcing a suitor on his daughter.

All of which goes back to the present condition of Landsmaal. It has little flexibility, little inward grace. It is not a finished literary language. But, despite its archaisms, Landsmaal is a living language and it has, therefore, unlike the Karathevusa of Greece, the possibility of growth. The translations of Madhus and Aasen and Eggen have made notable contributions to this development. They are worthy of all praise. Their weaknesses are the result of conditions which time will change.

J

One might be tempted to believe from the foregoing that the propagandists of "Maalet" had completely monopolized the noble task of making Shakespeare accessible in the vernacular. And this is almost true. But the reason is not far to seek. Aside from the fact that in Norway, as elsewhere, Shakespeare is read mainly by cultivated people, among whom a sound reading knowledge of English is general, we have further to remember that the Foersom-Lembcke version has become standard in Norway and no real need has been felt of a separate Norwegian version in the dominant literary language. In Landsmaal the case is different. This dialect must be trained to "Literaturfähigkeit." It is not so much that Norway must have her own Shakespeare as that Landsmaal must be put to use in every type of literature. The results of this missionary spirit we have seen.

One of the few translations of Shakespeare that have been made into Riksmaal appeared in 1912, _Hamlet_, by C.H. Blom. As an experiment it is worthy of respect, but as a piece of literature it is not to be taken seriously. Like Lassen's work, it is honest, faithful, and utterly uninspired.

The opening scene of _Hamlet_ is no mean test of a translator's ability--this quick, tense scene, one of the finest in dramatic literature. Foersom did it with conspicuous success. Blom has reduced it to the following prosy stuff:

_Bernardo_: Hvem der?

_Francisco_: Nei, svar mig først; gjør holdt og sig hvem der!

_Ber_: Vor konge længe leve!

_Fra_: De, Bernardo?

_Ber_: Ja vel.

_Fra_: De kommer jo paa klokkeslaget.

_Ber_: Ja, den slog tolv nu. Gaa til ro, Francisco.

_Fra_: Tak for De løser av. Her er saa surt, og jeg er dødsens træt.

_Ber_: Har du hat rolig vagt?

_Fra_: En mus har ei sig rørt.

_Ber_: Nu vel, god nat. Hvis du Marcellus og Horatio ser, som skal ha vakt med mig, bed dem sig skynde.

_Fra_: Jeg hører dem vist nu. Holdt hoi! Hvem der. (Horatio og Marcellus kommer.)

_Horatio_: Kun landets venner.

_Marcellus_: Danekongens folk!

_Fra_: God nat, sov godt!

_Mar_: Godnat, du bra soldat! Hvem har løst av?

_Fra_: Bernardo staar paa post. God nat igjen. (Gaar.)

It requires little knowledge of Norwegian to dismiss this as dull and insipid prose, a part of which has accidentally been turned into mechanical blank verse. Moreover, the work is marked throughout by inconsistency and carelessness in details. For instance the king begins (p. 7) by addressing Laertes:

Hvad melder _De_ mig om _Dem_ selv, Laertes?

and two lines below:

Hvad kan _du_ be mig om?

It might be a mere slip that the translator in one line uses the formal _De_ and in another the familiar _du_, but the same inconsistency occurs again and again throughout the volume. In itself a trifle, it indicates clearly enough the careless, slipshod manner of work--and an utter lack of a sense of humor, for no one with a spark of humor would use the modern, essentially German _De_ in a Norwegian translation of Shakespeare. If a formal form must be used it should, as a matter of course, be _I_.

Nor is the translation itself so accurate as it should be. For example, what does it mean when Marcellus tells Bernardo that he had implored Horatio "at vogte paa minutterne inat" (to watch over the minutes this night)? Again, in the King's speech to Hamlet (Act I, Sc. 2) the phrase "bend you to remain" is rendered by the categorical "se til at bli herhjemme," which is at least misleading. Little inaccuracies of this sort are not infrequent.

But, after all, a translator with a new variorum and a wealth of critical material at hand cannot go far wrong in point of mere translation. The chief indictment to be made against Blom's translation is its prosiness, its prosy, involved sentences, its banality. What in Shakespeare is easy and mellifluous often becomes in Blom so vague that its meaning has to be discovered by a reference to the original.

We gave, some pages back, Ivar Aasen's translation of Hamlet's soliloquy. The interesting thing about that translation is not only that it is the first one in Norwegian but that it was made into a new dialect by the creator of that dialect himself. When we look back and consider what Aasen had to do--first, make a literary medium, and then pour into the still rigid and inelastic forms of that language the subtlest thinking of a great world literature--we gain a new respect for his genius. Fifty years later Blom tried his hand at the same soliloquy. He was working in an old and tried literary medium--Dano-Norwegian. But he was unequal to the task:

At være eller ikke være, det problemet er: Om det er større av en sjæl at taale skjæbnens pil og slynge end ta til vaaben mot et hav av plager og ende dem i kamp? At dø,--at sove, ei mer; og tro, at ved en søvn vi ender vor hjerteve og livets tusen støt, som kjød er arving til--det maal for livet maa ønskes inderlig. At dø,--at sove-- at sove!--Kanske drømme! Der er knuten; for hvad i dødsens søvn vi monne drømme, naar livets lænke vi har viklet av, det holder os igjen; det er det hensyn, som gir vor jammer her saa langt et liv' etc.

K

Much more interesting than Blom's attempt, and much more significant, is a translation and working over of _As You Like It_ which appeared in November of the same year. The circumstances under which this translation were made are interesting. Fru Johanne Dybwad, one of the "stars" at the National Theater was completing her twenty-fifth year of service on the stage, and the theater wished to commemorate the event in a manner worthy of the actress. For the gala performance, Herman Wildenvey, a poet of the young Norway, made a new translation and adaptation of _As You Like It_.[38] And no choice could have been more felicitous. Fru Dybwad had scored her greatest success as Puck; the life and sparkle and jollity of that mischievous wight seemed like a poetic glorification of her own character. It might be expected, then, that she would triumph in the rôle of Rosalind.

[38: _As You Like It_, eller _Livet i Skogen_. Dramatisk Skuespil av William Shakespeare. Oversat og bearbeidet for Nationaltheatret av Herman Wildenvey. Kristiania og København. 1912.]

Then came the problem of a stage version. A simple cutting of Lembcke seemed inappropriate to this intensely modern woman. There was danger, too, that Lembcke's faithful Danish would hang heavy on the light and sparkling Norwegian. Herman Wildenvey undertook to prepare an acting version that should fit the actress and the occasion. The result is the text before us. For the songs and intermissions, Johan Halvorsen, Kapelmester of the theater, composed new music and the theater provided a magnificent staging. The tremendous stage-success of Wildenvey's _As You Like It_ belongs rather to stage history, and for the present we shall confine ourselves to the translation itself.

First, what of the cutting? In a short introduction the translator has given an apologia for his procedure. It is worth quoting at some length. "To adapt a piece of literature is, as a rule, not especially commendable. And now, I who should be the last to do it, have become the first in this country to attempt anything of the sort with Shakespeare.

"I will not defend myself by saying that most of Shakespeare's plays require some sort of adaptation to the modern stage if they are to be played at all. But, as a matter of fact, I have done little adapting. I have dusted some of the speeches, maltreated others, and finally cut out a few which would have sputtered out of the mouths of the actors like fringes of an old tapestry. But, above all, I have tried to reproduce the imperishable woodland spirit, the fresh breath of out-of-doors which permeates this play."

Wildenvey then states that in his cuttings he has followed the edition of the British Empire Shakespeare Society. But the performance in Kristiania has demanded more, "and my adaptation could not be so wonderfully ideal. _As You Like It_ is, probably more than any other of Shakespeare's plays, a jest and only in part a play. Through the title he has given his work, he has given me the right to make my own arrangement which is accordingly, yours truly _As You Like It_."

But the most cursory examination will show that this is more than a mere "cutting." In the first place, the five acts have been cut to four and scenes widely separated, have often been brought together. In this way unnecessary scene-shifts have been avoided. But the action has been kept intact and only two characters have been eliminated: Jacques de Bois, whose speeches have been given to Le Beau, and Hymen, whose rôle has been given to Celia. Two or three speeches have been shifted. But to a reader unacquainted with Shakespeare all this would pass unnoticed, as would also, doubtless, the serious cutting and the free translation.

A brief sketch of Wildenvey's arrangement will be of service.

[Transcriber's Note: The summary is given here exactly as it appears in Ruud's text. Note in particular Wildenvey's I, 2, and Shakespeare's II, 1.]