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The University of Chicago
AN ESSAY TOWARD A HISTORY
OF SHAKESPEARE IN
NORWAY
A Dissertation
Submitted to the Faculty
of the Graduate School of Arts and Literature
in Candidacy for the Degree of
Doctor of Philosophy
Department of Germanics and English
by
MARTIN BROWN RUUD
Reprint from
Scandinavian Studies and Notes
Urbana, Illinois
1917
The Collegiate Press
George Banta Publishing Company
Menasha, Wisconsin
* * * * *
PREFATORY NOTE
I have attempted in this study to trace the history of Shakespearean
translations, Shakespearean criticism, and the performances of
Shakespeare's plays in Norway. I have not attempted to investigate
Shakespeare's influence on Norwegian literature. To do so would not,
perhaps, be entirely fruitless, but it would constitute a different
kind of work.
The investigation was made possible by a fellowship from the University
of Chicago and a scholarship from the American-Scandinavian Foundation,
and I am glad to express my gratitude to these bodies for the
opportunities given to me of study in the Scandinavian countries.
I am indebted for special help and encouragement to Dr. C.N. Gould
and Professor J.M. Manly, of the University of Chicago, and to the
authorities of the University library in Kristiania for their unfailing
courtesy. To my wife, who has worked with me throughout, my obligations
are greater than I can express.
It is my plan to follow this monograph with a second on the history of
Shakespeare in Denmark.
M.B.R.
Minneapolis, Minnesota.
September, 1916.
CHAPTER I
Shakespeare Translations In Norway
A
In the years following 1750, there was gathered in the city of Trondhjem
a remarkable group of men: Nils Krog Bredal, composer of the first
Danish opera, John Gunnerus, theologian and biologist, Gerhart Schøning,
rector of the Cathedral School and author of an elaborate history of the
fatherland, and Peter Suhm, whose 14,047 pages on the history of Denmark
testify to a learning, an industry, and a generous devotion to
scholarship which few have rivalled. Bredal was mayor (Borgermester),
Gunnerus was bishop, Schøning was rector, and Suhm was for the moment
merely the husband of a rich and unsympathetic wife. But they were
united in their interest in serious studies, and in 1760, the last
three--somewhat before Bredal's arrival--founded "Videnskabsselkabet i
Trondhjem." A few years later the society received its charter as "Det
Kongelige Videnskabsselskab."
A little provincial scientific body! Of what moment is it? But in those
days it was of moment. Norway was then and long afterwards the political
and intellectual dependency of Denmark. For three hundred years she had
been governed more or less effectively from Copenhagen, and for two
hundred years Danish had supplanted Norwegian as the language of church
and state, of trade, and of higher social intercourse. The country had
no university; Norwegians were compelled to go to Copenhagen for their
degrees and there loaf about in the anterooms of ministers waiting for
preferment. Videnskabsselskabet was the first tangible evidence of
awakened national life, and we are not surprised to find that it was in
this circle that the demand for a separate Norwegian university was
first authoritatively presented. Again, a little group of periodicals
sprang up in which were discussed, learnedly and pedantically, to be
sure, but with keen intelligence, the questions that were interesting
the great world outside. It is dreary business ploughing through these
solemn, badly printed octavos and quartos. Of a sudden, however, one
comes upon the first, and for thirty-six years the only Norwegian
translation of Shakespeare.
We find it in _Trondhjems Allehaande_ for October 23, 1782--the third
and last volume. The translator has hit upon Antony's funeral oration
and introduces it with a short note:[1] "The following is taken from
the famous English play _Julius Caesar_ and may be regarded as a
masterpiece. When Julius Caesar was killed, Antonius secured permission
from Brutus and the other conspirators to speak at his funeral. The
people, whose minds were full of the prosperity to come, were satisfied
with Caesar's murder and regarded the murderers as benefactors. Antonius
spoke so as to turn their minds from rejoicing to regret at a great
man's untimely death and so as to justify himself and win the hearts of
the populace. And in what a masterly way Antonius won them! We shall
render, along with the oration, the interjected remarks of the crowd,
inasmuch as they too are evidences of Shakespeare's understanding of
the human soul and his realization of the manner in which the oration
gradually brought about the purpose toward which he aimed:"
[1. It has been thought best to give such citations for the most
part in translation.]
Antonius:
Venner, Medborgere, giver mig Gehør, jeg kommer for at jorde Cæsars
Legeme, ikke for at rose ham. Det Onde man gjør lever endnu efter
os; det Gode begraves ofte tilligemed vore Been. Saa Være det ogsaa
med Cæsar. Den ædle Brutus har sagt Eder, Cæsar var herskesyg. Var
han det saa var det en svær Forseelse: og Cæsar har ogsaa dyrt
maattet bøde derfor. Efter Brutus og de Øvriges Tilladelse--og
Brutus er en hederlig Mand, og det er de alle, lutter hederlige
Mænd, kommer jeg hid for at holde Cæsars Ligtale. Han var min Ven,
trofast og oprigtig mod mig! dog, Brutus siger, han var herskesyg,
og Brutus er en hederlig Mand. Han har bragt mange Fanger med til
Rom, hvis Løsepenge formerede de offentlige Skatter; synes Eder det
herskesygt af Cæsar--naar de Arme skreeg, saa græd Cæsar--Herskesyge
maate dog vel væves af stærkere Stof.--Dog Brutus siger han var
herskesyg; og Brutus er en hederlig Mand. I have alle seet at jeg
paa Pans Fest tre Gange tilbød ham en kongelig Krone, og at han tre
Gange afslog den. Var det herskesygt?--Dog Brutus siger han var
herskesyg, og i Sandhed, han er en hederlig Mand. Jeg taler ikke for
at gjendrive det, som Brutus har sagt; men jeg staar her, for at
sige hvad jeg veed. I alle elskede ham engang, uden Aarsag; hvad for
en Aarsag afholder Eder fra at sørge over ham? O! Fornuft! Du er
flyed hen til de umælende Bæster, og Menneskene have tabt deres
Forstand. Haver Taalmodighed med mig; mit Hjerte er hist i Kisten
hos Cæsar, og jeg maa holde inde til det kommer tilbage til mig.
Den Første af Folket:
Mig synes der er megen Fornuft i hans Tale.
Den Anden af Folket:
Naar du ret overveier Sagen, saa er Cæsar skeet stor Uret.
Den Tredje:
Mener I det, godt Folk? Jeg frygter der vil komme slemmere i hans
Sted.
Den Fjerde:
Har I lagt Mærke til hvad han sagde? Han vilde ikke modtage Kronen,
det er altsaa vist at han ikke var herskesyg.
Den Første:
Hvis saa er, vil det komme visse Folk dyrt at staae.
Den Anden:
Den fromme Mand! Hans Øien er blodrøde af Graad.
Den Tredje:
Der er ingen fortræffeligere Mand i Rom end Antonius.
Den Fjerde:
Giver Agt, han begynder igjen at tale.
Antonius:
Endnu i Gaar havde et Ord af Cæsar gjældt imod hele Verden, nu
ligger han der, endog den Usleste nægter ham Agtelse. O, I Folk!
var jeg sindet, at ophidse Eders Gemytter til Raserie og Oprør, saa
skulde jeg skade Brutus og Kassius, hvilke, som I alle veed, ere
hederlige Mænd. Men jeg vil intet Ondt gjøre dem: hellere vil jeg
gjøre den Døde, mig selv, og Eder Uret, end at jeg skulde volde
slige hederlige Mænd Fortræd. Men her er et Pergament med Cæsars
Segl: jeg fandt det i hans Kammer; det er hans sidste Villie. Lad
Folket blot høre hans Testament, som jeg, tilgiv mig det, ikke
tænker at oplæse, da skulde de alle gaa hen og kysse den døde Cæsars
Saar; og dyppe deres Klæder i hans hellige Blod; skulde bede om et
Haar af ham til Erindring, og paa deres Dødsdag i deres sidste
Villie tænke paa dette Haar, og testamentere deres Efterkommere
det som en rig Arvedel.
Den Fjerde:
Vi ville høre Testamentet! Læs det, Marcus Antonius.
Antonius:
Haver Taalmodighed, mine Venner: jeg tør ikke forelæse det; deter
ikke raadeligt, at I erfare hvor kjær Cæsar havde Eder. I ere ikke
Træe, I ere ikke Stene, I ere Mennesker; og da I ere Mennesker saa
skulde Testamentet, om I hørte det, sætte Eder i Flamme, det skulde
gjøre Eder rasende. Det er godt at I ikke vide, at I ere hans
Arvinger; thi vidste I det, O, hvad vilde der da blive af?
Den fjerde:
Læs Testamentet; vi ville høre det, Antonius! Du maae læse
Testamentet for os, Cæsars Testament!
Antonius:
Ville i være rolige? Ville I bie lidt? Jeg er gaaen for vidt at jeg
har sagt Eder noget derom--jeg frygter jeg fornærmer de hederlige
Mænd, som have myrdet Cæsar--jeg befrygter det.
Den Fjerde:
De vare Forrædere!--ha, hederlige Mænd!
The translation continues to the point where the plebeians, roused to
fury by the cunning appeal of Antony, rush out with the cries:[2]
2. Pleb:
Go fetch fire!
3. Pleb:
Plucke down Benches!
2. Pleb:
Plucke down Formes, Windowes, anything.
[2. _Julius Caesar_. III, 2. 268-70. Variorum Edition Furness.
Phila. 1913.]
But we have not space for a more extended quotation, and the passage
given is sufficiently representative.
The faults are obvious. The translator has not ventured to reproduce
Shakespeare's blank verse, nor, indeed, could that be expected. The
Alexandrine had long held sway in Danish poetry. In _Rolf Krage_ (1770),
Ewald had broken with the tradition and written an heroic tragedy in
prose. Unquestionably he had been moved to take this step by the example
of his great model Klopstock in _Bardiete_.[3] It seems equally certain,
however, that he was also inspired by the plays of Shakespeare, and the
songs of Ossian, which came to him in the translations of Wieland.[4]
[3. Rønning--_Rationalismens Tidsalder_. 11-95.]
[4. Ewald--_Levnet og meninger_. Ed. Bobe. Kbhn. 1911, p. 166.]
A few years later, when he had learned English and read Shakespeare
in the original, he wrote _Balders Død_ in blank verse and
naturalized Shakespeare's metre in Denmark.[5] At any rate, it
is not surprising that this unknown plodder far north in Trondhjem
had not progressed beyond Klopstock and Ewald. But the result of
turning Shakespeare's poetry into the journeyman prose of a foreign
language is necessarily bad. The translation before us amounts to a
paraphrase,--good, respectable Danish untouched by genius. Two
examples will illustrate this. The lines:
.... Now lies he there,
And none so poor to do him reverence.
[5. _Ibid._ II, 234-235.]
are rendered in the thoroughly matter-of-fact words, appropriate for a
letter or a newspaper "story":
.... Nu ligger han der,
endog den Usleste nægter ham Agtelse.
Again,
I have o'ershot myself to tell you of it,
is translated:
Jeg er gaaen for vidt at jeg sagde Eder noget derom.
On the other hand, the translation presents no glaring errors; such
slips as we do find are due rather to ineptitude, an inability to
find the right word, with the result that the writer has contented
himself with an accidental and approximate rendering. For example,
the translator no doubt understood the lines:
The evil that men do lives after them,
The good is oft interred with their bones.
but he could hit upon nothing better than:
Det Onde man gjør _lever endnu efter os_;
det Gode begraves ofte tilligemed vore Been.
which is both inaccurate and infelicitous. For the line
He was my friend, faithful and just to me.
our author has:
Han var min Ven, trofast og _oprigtig_ mod mig!
Again:
Has he, Masters? I fear there will come a worse in his place.
Translation:
Mener I det, godt Folk?--etc.
Despite these faults--and many others could be cited,--it is perfectly
clear that this unknown student of Shakespeare understood his original
and endeavored to reproduce it correctly in good Danish. His very
blunders showed that he tried not to be slavish, and his style, while
not remarkable, is easy and fluent. Apparently, however, his work
attracted no attention. His name is unknown, as are his sources, and
there is not, with one exception, a single reference to him in the later
Shakespeare literature of Denmark and Norway. Not even Rahbek, who was
remarkably well informed in this field, mentions him. Only Foersom,[6]
who let nothing referring to Shakespeare escape him, speaks (in the
notes to Part I of his translation) of a part of Act III of _Julius
Caesar_ in _Trondhjems Allehaande_. That is all. It it not too much to
emphasize, therefore, that we have here the first Danish version of any
part of _Julius Caesar_ as well as the first Norwegian translation of
any part of Shakespeare into what was then the common literary language
of Denmark and Norway.[7]
[6. _William Shakespeares Tragiske Værker--Første Deel._ Khbn.
1807. Notes at the back of the volume.]
[7. By way of background, a bare enumeration of the early Danish
translations of Shakespeare is here given.
1777. _Hamlet_. Translated by Johannes Boye.
1790. _Macbeth_. Translated by Nils Rosenfeldt.
_Othello_. Translated by Nils Rosenfeldt.
_All's Well that Ends Well_. Translated by Nils Rosenfeldt.
1792. _King Lear_. Translated by Nils Rosenfeldt.
_Cymbeline_. Translated by Nils Rosenfeldt.
_The Merchant of Venice_. Translated by Nils Rosenfeldt.
1794. _King Lear_. Nahum Tate's stage version. Translated by Hans
Wilhelm Riber.
1796. _Two Speeches._--To be or not to be--_(Hamlet.)_
Is this a dagger--_(Macbeth.)_
Translated by Malthe Conrad Brun in _Svada_.
1800. Act III, Sc. 2 of _Julius Caesar_. Translated by Knut Lyhne
Rahbek in _Minerva_.
1801. _Macbeth_. Translated by Levin Sander and K.L. Rahbek. Not
published till 1804.
1804. Act V of _Julius Caesar_. Translated by P.F. Foersom in
_Minerva_.
1805. Act IV Sc. 3 of _Love's Labour Lost_. Translated by P.F.
Foersom in _Nytaarsgave for Skuespilyndere._
1807. Hamlet's speech to the players. Translated by P.F. Foersom
in _Nytaarsgave for Skuespilyndere_.
It may be added that in 1807 appeared the first volume of
Foersom's translation of Shakespeare's tragedies, and after 1807
the history of Shakespeare in Denmark is more complicated. With
these matters I shall deal at length in another study.]
B
It was many years before the anonymous contributor to _Trondhjems
Allehaande_ was to have a follower. From 1782 to 1807 Norwegians were
engaged in accumulating wealth, an occupation, indeed, in which they
were remarkably successful. There was no time to meddle with Shakespeare
in a day when Norwegian shipping and Norwegian products were profitable
as never before. After 1807, when the blundering panic of the British
plunged Denmark and Norway into war on the side of Napoleon, there were
sterner things to think of. It was a sufficiently difficult matter to
get daily bread. But in 1818, when the country had, as yet, scarcely
begun to recover from the agony of the Napoleonic wars, the second
Norwegian translation from Shakespeare appeared.[8]
[8. _Coriolanus, efter Shakespeare_. Christiania. 1818.]
The translator of this version of _Coriolanus_ is unknown. Beyond the
bare statement on the title page that the translation is made directly
from Shakespeare and that it is printed and published in Christiania by
Jacob Lehmann, there is no information to be had. Following the title
there is a brief quotation from Dr. Johnson and one from the "Zeitung
für die elegante Welt." Again Norway anticipates her sister nation; for
not till the following year did Denmark get her first translation of the
play.[9]
[9. The first Danish translation of Coriolanus by P.F. Wulff
appeared in 1819.]
Ewald, Oehlenschlæger, and Foersom had by this time made the blank verse
of Shakespeare a commonplace in Dano-Norwegian literature. Even the
mediocre could attempt it with reasonable assurance of success. The
_Coriolanus_ of 1818 is fairly correct, but its lumbering verse reveals
plainly that the translator had trouble with his metre. Two or three
examples will illustrate. First, the famous allegory of Menenius:[10]
_Menenius:_
I enten maae erkjende at I ere
Heel ondskabsfulde, eller taale, man
For Uforstandighed anklager Eder.
Et snurrigt Eventyr jeg vil fortælle;
Maaskee I har det hørt, men da det tjener
Just til min Hensigt, jeg forsøge vil
Nøiagtigen det Eder at forklare.
. . . . .
Jeg Eder det fortælle skal; med et
Slags Smil, der sig fra Lungen ikke skrev;
Omtrent saaledes--thi I vide maae
Naar jeg kan lade Maven tale, jeg
Den og kan lade smile--stikende
Den svarede hvert misfornøiet Lem
Og hver Rebel, som den misundte al
Sin Indtægt; Saa misunde I Senatet
Fordi det ikke er det som I ere.
_Første Borger_:
Hvorledes. Det var Mavens Svar! Hvorledes?
Og Hovedet, der kongeligt er kronet,
Og Øiet, der er blot Aarvaagenhed;
Og Hjertet, som os giver gode Raad;
Og Tungen, vor Trumpet, vor Stridsmand, Armen,
Og Foden, vores Pragthest, med de flere
Befæstingner, der støtte vor Maskine,
Hvis de nu skulde....
_Menenius_:
Nu hvad skulde de?...
Den Karl mig lader ei til Orde komme,
Hvad vil I sigte med det _hvis de skulde?_
_Første Borger_:
Hvis de nu skulde sig betvinge lade
Ved denne Slughals Maven som blot er
En Afløbs-Rende for vort Legeme?
_Menenius_:
Nu videre!
_Første Borger_:
Hvad vilde Maven svare?
Hvis hine Handlende med Klage fremstod?
_Menenius_:
Hvis I mig skjænke vil det som I have
Kun lidet af, Taalmodighed, jeg mener,
Jeg Eder Mavens Svar da skal fortælle.
_Første Borger_:
I! Den Fortælling ret i Langdrag trækker!
_Menenius_:
Min gode Ven, nu allerførst bemærke.
Agtværdig Mave brugte Overlæg;
Ei ubetænksom den sig overiled
Som dens Modstandere; og saa lød Svaret:
I Venner som fra mig ei skilles kan!
Det Sandhed er, at jeg fra første Haand
Modtager Næringen som Eder føder,
Og dette i sin Orden er, thi jeg
Et Varelager og et Forraads-Kammer
Jo er for Legemet; men ei I glemme:
Jeg Næringen igjennem Blodets Floder
Og sender lige hen til Hoffet-Hjertet--
Til Hjernens Sæde; jeg den flyde lader
Igjennem Menneskets meest fine Dele;
Og de meest fast Nerver, som de mindste
Blandt Aarene fra mig modtager hver
Naturlig Kraft, hvormed de leve, og
Endskjøndt de ikke alle paa eengang--
I gode Venner (det var Mavens Ord)
Og mærker dem heel nøie....
_Første Borger_:
Det vil vi gjøre.
_Menenius_:
Endskjøndt de ikke alle kunde see,
Hvad jeg tilflyde lader hver især,
Saa kan jeg dog med gyldigt Dokument
Bevise at jeg overlader dem
Den rene Kjærne, selv beholder Kliddet.
Hvad siger I dertil?
_Første Borger_:
Et svar det var--
Men nu Andvendelsen!
_Menenius_:
Senatet er
Den gode Mave: I Rebellerne.
I undersøge blot de Raad det giver
Og alt dets Omhue. Overveier nøie
Alt hvad til Statens Velferd monne sigte,
Og da I finde vil, at fra Senatet
Hver offentlig Velgjerning som I nyde
Sit Udspring bar, men ei fra Eder selv--
Hvad tænker I, som er den store Taae
Her i Forsamlingen?
[10. _Coriolanus_--Malone's ed. London. 1790. Vol. 7, pp. 148 ff.]
Aside from the preponderance of feminine endings, which is inevitable
in Scandinavian blank verse, what strikes us most in this translation
is its laboriousness. The language is set on end. Inversion and
transposition are the devices by which the translator has managed to
give Shakespeare in metrically decent lines. The proof of this is so
patent that I need scarcely point out instances. But take the first
seven lines of the quotation. Neither in form nor content is this bad,
yet no one with a feeling for the Danish language can avoid an
exclamation, "forskruet Stil" and "poetiske Stylter." And lines 8-9
smack unmistakably of _Peder Paars_. In the second place, the translator
often does not attempt to translate at all. He gives merely a
paraphrase. Compare lines 1-3 with the English original; the whole of
the speech of the first citizen, 17-24, 25-27, where the whole implied
idea is fully expressed; 28-30, etc., etc. We might offer almost every
translation of Shakespeare's figures as an example. One more instance.
At times even paraphrase breaks down. Compare
And through the cranks and offices of man
The strongest and small inferior veins,
Receive from me that natural competency
Whereby they live.
with our translator's version (lines 50-51)
jeg den flyde lader
Igjennem Menneskets meest fine Dele.
This is not even good paraphrase; it is simply bald and helpless
rendering.
On the other hand, it would be grossly unfair to dismiss it all with
a sneer. The translator has succeeded for the most part in giving the
sense of Shakespeare in smooth and sounding verse, in itself no small
achievement. Rhetoric replaces poetry, it is true, and paraphrase dries
up the freshness and the sparkle of the metaphor. But a Norwegian of
that day who got his first taste of Shakespeare from the translation
before us, would at least feel that here was the power of words, the
music and sonorousness of elevated dramatic poetry.
One more extract and I am done. It is Coriolanus' outburst of wrath
against the pretensions of the tribunes (III, 1). With all its
imperfections, the translation is almost adequate.
_Coriolanus_:
Skal!
Patrisier, I ædle, men ei vise!
I høie Senatorer, som mon mangle
Al Overlæg, hvi lod I Hydra vælge
En Tjener som med sit bestemte Skal
--Skjøndt blot Uhyrets Talerør og Lyd--
Ei mangler Mod, at sige at han vil
Forvandle Eders Havstrøm til en Sump,
Og som vil gjøre Jer Kanal til sin.
Hvis han har Magten, lad Enfoldighed
Da for ham bukke; har han ingen Magt,
Da vækker Eders Mildhed af sin Dvale,
Den farlig er; hvis I ei mangle Klogskab,
Da handler ei som Daaren; mangler den,
Lad denne ved Jer Side faae en Pude.
Plebeier ere I, hvis Senatorer
De ere, og de ere mindre ei
Naar begge Eders Stemmer sammenblandes
Og naar de kildres meest ved Fornemhed.
De vælge deres egen Øvrighed,
Og saadan Een, der sætte tør sit Skal,
Ja sit gemene Skal mod en Forsamling,
Der mer agtværdig er end nogensinde
Man fandt i Grækenland. Ved Jupiter!
Sligt Consulen fornedrer! Og det smerter
Min Sjæl at vide, hvor der findes tvende
Autoriteter, ingen af dem størst,
Der kan Forvirring lettelig faae Indpas
I Gabet, som er mellem dem, og hæve
Den ene ved den anden.
C
In 1865, Paul Botten Hansen, best known to the English-speaking world
for his relations with Bjørnson and Ibsen, reviewed[11] the eleventh
installment of Lembcke's translation of Shakespeare. The article
does not venture into criticism, but is almost entirely a resumé of
Shakespeare translation in Norway and Denmark. It is less well informed
than we should expect, and contains, among several other slips, the
following "...in 1855, Niels Hauge, deceased the following year as
teacher in Kragerø, translated _Macbeth_, the first faithful version of
this masterpiece which Dano-Norwegian literature could boast of." Botten
Hansen mentions only one previous Danish or Norwegian version of
Shakespeare--Foersom's adaptation of Schiller's stage version (1816).
He is quite obviously ignorant of Rosenfeldt's translation of 1790; and
the Rahbek-Sanders translation of 1801 seems also to have escaped him,
although Hauge expressly refers to this work in his introduction. Both
of these early attempts are in prose; Foersom's, to be sure, is in blank
verse, but Foersom's _Macbeth_ is not Shakespeare's. Accordingly, it is,
in a sense, true that Hauge in 1855 did give the Dano-Norwegian public
their first taste of an unspoiled _Macbeth_ in the vernacular.[12]
[11. _Illustreret Nyhedsblad_--1865, p. 96.]
[12. _Macbeth--Tragedie i fem Akter af William Shakespeare_.
Oversat og fortolket af N. Hauge. Christiania. 1855. Johan Dahl.]
Hauge tells us that he had interested himself in English literature at
the risk of being called an eccentric. Modern languages then offered no
avenue to preferment, and why, forsooth, did men attend lectures and
take examinations except to gain the means of earning a livelihood? He
justifies his interest, however, by the seriousness and industry with
which Shakespeare is studied in Germany and England. With the founts of
this study he is apparently familiar, and with the influence of
Shakespeare on Lessing, Goethe, and the lesser romanticists. It is
interesting to note, too, that two scholars, well known in widely
different fields, Monrad, the philosopher--for some years a sort of Dr.
Johnson in the literary circles of Christiania--and Unger, the scholarly
editor of many Old Norse texts, assisted him in his work.
The character of Hauge's work is best seen in his notes. They consist of
a careful defense of every liberty he takes with the text, explanations
of grammatical constructions, and interpretations of debated matters.
For example, he defends the witches on the ground that they symbolize
the power of evil in the human soul.
Man kan sige at Shakespeare i dem og deres Slæng har givet de
nytestamentlige Dæmoner Kjød og Blod.
(We may say that Shakespeare in them and their train has endowed the
demons of the New Testament with flesh and blood). Again, he would
change the word _incarnadine_ to _incarnate_ on the ground that _Twelfth
Night V_ offers a similar instance of the corrupt use of _incardinate_
for _incarnate_. The word occurs, moreover, in English only in this
passage.[13] Again, in his note to Act IV, he points out that the
dialogue in which Malcolm tests the sincerity of Macduff is taken almost
verbatim from Holinshed. "In performing the play," he suggests, "it
should, perhaps, be omitted as it very well may be without injury to the
action since the complication which arises through Malcolm's suspicion
of Macduff is fully and satisfactorily resolved by the appearance of
Rosse." And his note to a passage in Act V is interesting as showing
that, wide and thorough as was Hauge's acquaintance with Shakespearean
criticism, he had, besides, a first-hand knowledge of the minor
Elizabethan dramatists. I give the note in full. "_The way to dusty
death--_
Til dette besynderlige Udtryk, kan foruden hvad Knight og Dyce
have at citere, endnu citeres af Fords _Perkin Warbeck_, II, 2,
"I take my leave to travel to my dust."
[13. This is, of course, incorrect. Cf. Macbeth, Variorum
Edition. Ed. Furness. Phila. 1903, p. 40. Note.]
Hauge was a careful and conscientious scholar. He knew his field and
worked with the painstaking fidelity of the man who realizes the
difficulty of his task. The translation he gave is of a piece with the
man--faithful, laborious, uninspired. But it is, at least, superior to
Rosenfeldt and Sander, and Hauge justified his work by giving to his
countrymen the best version of _Macbeth_ up to that time.
Monrad himself reviewed Hauge's _Macbeth_ in a careful and well-informed
article, in _Nordisk Tidsskrift for Videnskab og Literatur_, which I
shall review later.
D
One of the most significant elements in the intellectual life of modern
Norway is the so-called Landsmaal movement. It is probably unnecessary
to say that this movement is an effort on the part of many Norwegians to
substitute for the dominant Dano-Norwegian a new literary language based
on the "best" dialects. This language, commonly called the Landsmaal,
is, at all events in its origin, the creation of one man, Ivar Aasen.
Aasen published the first edition of his grammar in 1848, and the first
edition of his dictionary in 1850. But obviously it was not enough to
provide a grammar and a word-book. The literary powers of the new
language must be developed and disciplined and, accordingly, Aasen
published in 1853 _Prøver af Landsmaalet i Norge_. The little volume
contains, besides other material, seven translations from foreign
classics; among these is Romeo's soliloquy in the balcony scene.[14]
(Act II, Sc. 1) This modest essay of Aasen's, then, antedates Hauge's
rendering of _Macbeth_ and constitutes the first bit of Shakespeare
translation in Norway since the _Coriolanus_ of 1818.
[14. Ivar Aasen--_Skrifter i Samling_--Christiania. 1911, Vol. 11,
p. 165. Reprinted from _Prøver af Landsmaalet i Norge, Første
Udgave_. Kristiania. 1853, p. 114.]
Aasen knew that Landsmaal was adequate to the expression of the homely
and familiar. But would it do for belles lettres?
Han lær aat Saar, som aldri kende Saar.--
Men hyst!--Kvat Ljos er dat dar upp i glaset?
Dat er i Aust, og Julia er Soli.
Sprett, fagre Sol, og tyn dan Maane-Skjegla,
som alt er sjuk og bleik av berre Ovund,
at hennar Taus er fagrar' en ho sjølv.
Ver inkje hennar Taus; dan Ovundsykja,
so sjukleg grøn er hennar Jomfru-Klædnad;
d'er berre Narr, som ber han. Sleng han av!
Ja, d'er mi Fru, d'er dan eg held i Hugen;
aa, giv ho hadde vist dat, at ho er dat!
Ho talar, utan Ord. Kvat skal ho med dei?
Ho tala kann med Augom;--eg vil svara.
Eg er for djerv; d'er inkje meg ho ser paa,
d'er tvo av fegste Stjernom dar paa Himlen,
som gekk ei Ærend, og fekk hennar Augo
te blinka i sin Stad, til dei kem atter.
Enn um dei var dar sjølve Augo hennar.
Kinn-Ljosken hennar hadde skemt dei Stjernor,
som Dagsljos skemmer Lampen; hennar Augo
hadd' straatt so bjart eit Ljos i Himmels Høgdi,
at Fuglar song og Trudde, dat var Dag.
Sjaa, kor ho hallar Kinni lint paa Handi,
Aa, giv eg var ein Vott paa denne Handi
at eg fekk strjuka Kinni den.--Ho talar.--
Aa tala meir, Ljos-Engel, med du lyser
so klaart i denne Natti kring mitt Hovud,
som naar dat kem ein utfløygd Himmels Sending
mot Folk, som keika seg og stira beint upp
med undrarsame kvit-snudd' Augo mot han,
naar han skrid um dan seinleg-sigand' Skyi
og sigler yver høge Himmels Barmen.
It was no peasant jargon that Aasen had invented; it was a literary
language of great power and beauty with the dignity and fulness of any
other literary medium. But it was new and untried. It had no literature.
Aasen, accordingly, set about creating one. Indeed, much of what he
wrote had no other purpose. What, then, shall we say of the first
appearance of Shakespeare in "Ny Norsk"?
First, that it was remarkably felicitous.
Kinn-Ljosken hadde skemt dei Stjernor
som Dagsljos skemmer Lampen, hennar Augo, etc.
That is no inadequate rendering of:
Two of the fairest stars in all the Heaven, etc.
And equally good are the closing lines beginning:
Aa tala meir, Ljos-Engel med du lyser, etc.
Foersom is deservedly praised for his translation of the same lines, but
a comparison of the two is not altogether disastrous to Aasen, though,
to be sure, his lines lack some of Foersom's insinuating softness:
Tal atter, Lysets Engel! thi du straaler
i Natten saa høiherlig over mig
som en af Nattens vingede Cheruber
for dødeliges himmelvendte Øine, etc.
But lines like these have an admirable and perfect loveliness:
naar han skrid um dan seinleg-sigand' Skyi
og sigler yver høge Himmels Barmen.
Aasen busied himself for some years with this effort to naturalize his
Landsmaal in all the forms of literature. Apparently this was always
uppermost in his thoughts. We find him trying himself in this sort of
work in the years before and after the publication of _Prøver af
Landsmaalet_. In _Skrifter i Samling_ is printed another little fragment
of _Romeo and Juliet_, which the editor, without giving his reasons,
assigns to a date earlier than that of the balcony scene. It is
Mercutio's description of Queen Mab (Act I, Sc. 4). This is decidedly
more successful than the other. The vocabulary of the Norwegian dialects
is rich in words of fairy-lore, and one who knew this word treasure as
Aasen did could render the fancies of Mercutio with something very near
the exuberance of Shakespeare himself:
No ser eg vel, at ho hev' vore hjaa deg
ho gamle Mabba, Nærkona aat Vettom.
So lita som ein Adelstein i Ringen
paa fremste Fingren paa ein verdug Raadsmann,
ho kjøyrer kring med smaa Soldumbe-Flokar
paa Nasanna aat Folk, dan Tid dei søv.
Hjulspikann' henna er av Kongleføter,
Vognfelden er av Engjesprette-Vengjer,
og Taumann' av den minste Kongleveven.
Av Maanestraalanne paa Vatn er Selen,
og av Sirissebein er Svipeskafted
og Svipesnerten er av Agner smaa.
Skjotskaren er eit nett graakjola My
so stort som Holva av ein liten Mòl,
som minste Vækja krasa kann med Fingren.
Til Vogn ho fekk ei holut Haslenot
av Snikkar Ikorn elder Natemakk,
som altid var Vognmakarann' aat Vettom.[15]
[15. Ivar Aasen: _Skrifter i Samling_. Christiania. 1911, Vol. I,
p. 166.]
The translation ends with Mercutio's words:
And being thus frightened, swears a prayer or two,
And sleeps again.
In my opinion this is consummately well done--at once accurate and
redolent of poesy; and certainly Aasen would have been justified in
feeling that Landsmaal is equal to Shakespeare's most airy passages. The
slight inaccuracy of one of the lines:
Av Maanestraalanne paa Vatn er Selen,
for Shakespeare's:
The colors of the moonshine's watery beams,
is of no consequence. The discrepancy was doubtless as obvious to the
translator as it is to us.
From about the same time we have another Shakespeare fragment from
Aasen's hand. Like the Queen Mab passage, it was not published till
1911.[16] It is scarcely surprising that it is a rendering of Hamlet's
soliloquy: "To be or not to be." This is, of course, a more difficult
undertaking. For the interests that make up the life of the
people--their family and community affairs, their arts and crafts and
folk-lore, the dialects of Norway, like the dialects of any other
country, have a vocabulary amazingly rich and complete.[17] But not all
ideas belong in the realm of the every-day, and the great difficulty of
the Landsmaal movement is precisely this--that it must develop a
"culture language." To a large degree it has already done so. The rest
is largely a matter of time. And surely Ivar Aasen's translation of the
famous soliloquy proved that the task of giving, even to thought as
sophisticated as this, adequate and final expression is not impossible.
The whole is worth giving:
Te vera elder ei,--d'er da her spyrst um;
um d'er meir heirlegt i sitt Brjost aa tola
kvar Styng og Støyt av ein hardsøkjen Lagnad
eld taka Vaapn imot eit Hav med Harmar,
staa mot og slaa dei veg?--Te døy, te sova,
alt fraa seg gjort,--og i ein Sømn te enda
dan Hjarteverk, dei tusend timleg' Støytar,
som Kjøt er Erving til, da var ein Ende
rett storleg ynskjande. Te døy, te sova,
ja sova, kanskje drøyma,--au, d'er Knuten.
Fyr' i dan Daudesømn, kva Draum kann koma,
naar mid ha kastat av dei daudleg Bandi,
da kann vel giv' oss Tankar; da er Sakji,
som gjerer Useldom so lang i Livet:
kven vilde tolt slikt Hogg og Haad i Tidi,
slik sterk Manns Urett, stolt Manns Skamlaus Medferd,
slik vanvyrd Elskhugs Harm, slik Rettarløysa,
slikt Embæt's Ovmod, slik Tilbakaspenning,
som tolug, verdug Mann fær av uverdug;
kven vilde da, naar sjølv han kunde løysa
seg med ein nakjen Odd? Kven bar dan Byrda
so sveitt og stynjand i so leid ein Livnad,
naar inkj'an ottast eitkvart etter Dauden,
da uforfarne Land, som ingjen Ferdmann
er komen atter fraa, da viller Viljen,
da læt oss helder ha dan Naud, mid hava,
en fly til onnor Naud, som er oss ukjend.
So gjer Samviskan Slavar av oss alle,
so bi dan fyrste, djerve, bjarte Viljen
skjemd ut med blakke Strik av Ettertankjen
og store Tiltak, som var Merg og Magt i,
maa soleid snu seg um og strøyma ovugt
og tapa Namn av Tiltak.
[16. _Skrifter i Samling_, I, 168. Kristiania. 1911.]
[17. Cf. Alf Torp. _Samtiden_, XIX (1908), p. 483.]
This is a distinctly successful attempt--exact, fluent, poetic. Compare
it with the Danish of Foersom and Lembcke, with the Swedish of Hagberg,
or the new Norwegian "Riksmaal" translation, and Ivar Aasen's early
Landsmaal version holds its own. It keeps the right tone. The dignity of
the original is scarcely marred by a note of the colloquial. Scarcely
marred! For just as many Norwegians are offended by such a phrase as
"Hennar Taus er fagrar' en ho sjølv" in the balcony scene, so many more
will object to the colloquial "Au, d'er Knuten." _Au_ has no place in
dignified verse, and surely it is a most unhappy equivalent for "Ay,
there's the rub." Aasen would have replied that Hamlet's words are
themselves colloquial; but the English conveys no such connotation of
easy speech as does the Landsmaal to a great part of the Norwegian
people. But this is a trifle. The fact remains that Aasen gave a noble
form to Shakespeare's noble verse.
E
For many years the work of Hauge and Aasen stood alone in Norwegian
literature. The reading public was content to go to Denmark, and the
growing Landsmaal literature was concerned with other matters--first of
all, with the task of establishing itself and the even more complicated
problem of finding a form--orthography, syntax, and inflexions which
should command general acceptance. For the Landsmaal of Ivar Aasen was
frankly based on "the best dialects," and by this he meant, of course,
the dialects that best preserved the forms of the Old Norse. These were
the dialects of the west coast and the mountains. To Aasen the speech of
the towns, of the south-east coast and of the great eastern valleys and
uplands was corrupt and vitiated. It seemed foreign, saturated and
spoiled by Danish. There were those, however, who saw farther. If
Landsmaal was to strike root, it must take into account not merely "the
purest dialects" but the speech of the whole country. It could not, for
example, retain forms like "dat," "dan," etc., which were peculiar to
Søndmør, because they happened to be lineal descendants of Old Norse,
nor should it insist on preterites in _ade_ and participles in _ad_
merely because these forms were found in the sagas. We cannot enter upon
this subject; we can but point out that this movement was born almost
with Landsmaal itself, and that, after Aasen's fragments, the first
Norwegian translation of any part of Shakespeare is a rendering of
Sonnet CXXX in popularized Eastern, as distinguished from Aasen's
literary, aristocratic Western Landsmaal. It is the first translation of
a Shakespearean sonnet on Norwegian soil. The new language was hewing
out new paths.
Som Soli Augunn' inkje skjin,
og som Koraller inkje Lipunn' glansar,
og snjokvit hev ho inkje Halsen sin,
og Gullhaar inkje Hove hennar kransar,
Eg baae kvit' og raue Roser ser--,
paa Kinni hennar deira Lit'kje blandast;
og meire fin vel Blomsterangen er,
en den som ut fraa Lipunn' hennar andast.
Eg høyrt hev hennar Røyst og veit endaa,
at inkje som ein Song dei læter Ori;
og aldrig hev eg set ein Engel gaa--
og gjenta mi ser støtt eg gaa paa Jori.
Men ho er større Lov og Ære vær
enn pyntedokkane me laana Glansen.
Den reine Hugen seg i alting ter,
og ljost ho smilar under Brurekransen.[18]
[18. "Ein Sonett etter William Shakespeare." _Fram_--1872.]
Obviously this is not a sonnet at all. Not only does the translator
ignore Shakespeare's rime scheme, but he sets aside the elementary
definition of a sonnet--a poem of fourteen lines. We have here sixteen
lines and the last two add nothing to the original. The poet, through
lack of skill, has simply run on. He could have ended with line 14 and
then, whatever other criticism might have been passed upon his work, we
should have had at least the sonnet form. The additional lines are in
themselves fairly good poetry but they have no place in what purports to
be translation. The translator signs himself simply "r." Whoever he was,
he had poetic feeling and power of expression. No mere poetaster could
have given lines so exquisite in their imagery, so full of music, and
so happy in their phrasing. This fact in itself makes it a poor
translation, for it is rather a paraphrase with a quality and excellence
all its own. Not a line exactly renders the English. The paraphrase is
never so good as the original but, considered by itself, it is good
poetry. The disillusionment comes only with comparison. On the whole,
this second attempt to put Shakespeare into Landsmaal was distinctly
less successful than the first. As poetry it does not measure up to
Aasen; as translation it is periphrastic, arbitrary, not at all
faithful.
F
The translations which we have thus far considered were mere
fragments--brief soliloquies or a single sonnet, and they were done into
a dialect which was not then and is not now the prevailing literary
language of the country. They were earnest and, in the case of Aasen,
successful attempts to show that Landsmaal was adequate to the most
varied and remote of styles. But many years were to elapse before anyone
attempted the far more difficult task of turning any considerable part
of Shakespeare into "Modern Norwegian."
Norway still relied, with no apparent sense of humiliation, on the
translations of Shakespeare as they came up from Copenhagen. In 1881,
however, Hartvig Lassen (1824-1897) translated _The Merchant of
Venice_.[19] Lassen matriculated as a student in 1842, and from 1850
supported himself as a literateur, writing reviews of books and plays
for _Krydseren_ and _Aftenposten_. In 1872 he was appointed Artistic
Censor at the theater, and in that office translated a multitude of
plays from almost every language of Western Europe. His published
translations of Shakespeare are, however, quite unrelated to his
theatrical work. They were done for school use and published by
_Selskabet for Folkeoplysningens Fremme_ (Society for the Promotion
of Popular Education).
[19. _Kjøbmanden i Venedig_--Et Skuespil af William
Shakespeare. Oversat af Hartvig Lassen. Udgivet af Selskabet for
Folkeoplysningens Fremme som andet Tillægshefte til _Folkevennen_
for 1881. Kristiania, 1881.]
To _Kjøbmanden i Venedig_ there is no introduction and no notes--merely
a postscript in which the translator declares that he has endeavored
everywhere faithfully to reproduce the peculiar tone of the play and to
preserve the concentration of style which is everywhere characteristic
of Shakespeare. He acknowledges his indebtedness to the Swedish
translation by Hagberg and the German by Schlegel. Inasmuch as this work
was published for wide, general distribution and for reading in the
schools, Lassen cut out the passages which he deemed unsuitable for the
untutored mind. "But," he adds, "with the exception of the last scene of
Act III, which, in its expurgated form, would be too fragmentary (and
which, indeed, does not bear any immediate relation to the action), only
a few isolated passages have been cut. Shakespeare has lost next to
nothing, and a great deal has been gained if I have hereby removed one
ground for the hesitation which most teachers would feel in using the
book in the public schools." In Act III, Scene 5 is omitted entirely,
and obvious passages in other parts of the play.
It has frequently been said that Lassen did little more than
"norvagicize" Lembcke's Danish renderings. And certainly even the most
cursory reading will show that he had Lembcke at hand. But comparison
will also show that variations from Lembcke are numerous and
considerable. Lassen was a man of letters, a critic, and a good student
of foreign languages, but he was no poet, and his _Merchant of Venice_
is, generally speaking, much inferior to Lembcke's. Compare, for
example, the exquisite opening of the fifth act:
LASSEN
_Lor_:
Klart skinner Maanen, i en Nat som denne,
da Vinden gled med Lys igjennem Løvet,
og alt var tyst: i slig en Nat forvist
Trojas Murtinder Troilus besteg,
til Grækerlejren, til sin Cressida
udsukkende sin Sjæl.
LEMBCKE
Klart skinner Maanen, i en Nat som denne,
mens Luftningen saa sagte kyssed Træet
at knapt det sused, i en saadan Nat
steg Troilus vist up paa Trojas Mur
og sukked ud sin Sjæl mod Grækerlejren
der gjemte Cressida.
_Jes_:
I slig en Nat
sig Thisbe listed ængstelig, over Duggen
saa Løvens Skygge før hun saa den selv,
og løb forskrækket bort.
En saadan Nat
gik Thisbe bange trippende paa Duggen
og øjned Løvens Skygge før den selv
og løb forfærdet bort.
_Lor_:
I slig en Nat
stod Dido med en Vidjevaand i Haanden
paa vilden strand, og vinked til Kartago
sin elsker hjem igjen.
En saadan Nat
stod Dido med en Vidjekvist i Haanden
paa vilden Strand og vinkede sin Elsker
tilbage til Carthagos Kyst.
_Jes_:
I slig en Nat
Medea plukked Galder-Urt for Aeson
hans Ungdom at forny.
Det var
en saadan Nat, da sankede Medea
de Trolddomsurter der foryngede
den gamle Aeson.
_Lor_:
I slig en Nat
stjal Jessica sig fra den rige Jøde,
Løb fra Venedig med en lystig Elsker
til Belmont uden Stands.
Og en saadan Nat
sneg Jessica sig fra den rige Jøde
og løb med en Landstryger fra Venedig
herhid til Belmont.
_Jes_:
I slig en Nat
svor ung Lorenzo at han elsked hende,
stjal hendes Sjæl med mange Troskabsløfter
og ikke et var sandt.
Og en saadan Nat
svor ung Lorenzo hende Kjærlighed
og stjal med Troskabseder hendes Hjerte
og aldrig en var sand.
_Lor_:
I slig en Nat
skjøn Jessica, den lille Klaffertunge,
løi paa sin Elsker, og han tilgav hende.
I slig en Nat
bagtalte just skjøn Jessica sin Elsker
ret som en lille Trold, og han tilgav det.
_Jes_:
Jeg gad fortalt dig mer om slig en Nat,
hvis jeg ei hørte nogen komme--tys!
Jeg skulde sagtens "overnatte" dig
hvis ingen kom; men tys, jeg hører der
Trin af en Mand.
Lembcke's version is faithful to the point of slavishness. Compare,
for example, "Jeg skulde sagtens overnatte dig" with "I would outnight
you." Lassen, though never grossly inaccurate, allows himself greater
liberties. Compare lines 2-6 with the original and with Lembcke. In
every case the Danish version is more faithful than the Norwegian. And
more mellifluous. Why Lassen should choose such clumsy and banal lines
as:
I slig en Nat
Trojas Murtinder Troilus besteg
when he could have used Lembcke's, is inexplicable except on the
hypothesis that he was eager to prove his own originality. The remainder
of Lorenzo's first speech is scarcely better. It is neither good
translation nor decent verse.
In 1882 came Lassen's _Julius Caesar_,[20] likewise published as a
supplement to _Folkevennen_ for use in the schools. A short postscript
tells us that the principles which governed in the translation of the
earlier play have governed here also. Lassen specifically declares that
he used Foersom's translation (Copenhagen, 1811) as the basis for the
translation of Antony's oration. A comparison shows that in this scene
Lassen follows Foersom closely--he keeps archaisms which Lembcke
amended. One or two instances:
_Foersom_:
Seer, her foer Casii Dolk igjennem den;
seer, hvilken Rift den nidske Casca gjorde;
her rammed' den høitelskte Bruti Dolk, etc.
_Lembcke_:
Se, her foer Cassius' Dolk igjennem den;
se hvilken Rift den onde Casca gjorde.
Her stødte Brutus den høitelskede, etc.
_Lassen_:
Se! her foer Casii Dolk igjennem den;
se hvilken Rift den onde Casca gjorde.
Her rammed den høielskte Bruti Dolk, etc.
[20. _Julius Caesar_. Et Skuespil af William Shakespeare. Oversat
af Hartvig Lassen. Udgivet af Selskabet for Folkeoplysningens
Fremme som første Tillægshefte til _Folkevennen_ for 1882.
Kristiania, 1882. Grøndal og Søn.]
For the rest, a reading of this translation leaves the same impression
as a reading of _The Merchant of Venice_--it is a reasonably good
piece of work but distinctly inferior to Foersom and to Lembcke's
modernization of Foersom. Lassen clearly had Lembcke at hand; he seldom,
however, followed him for more than a line or two. What is more
important is that there are reminiscences of Foersom not only in
the funeral scene, where Lassen himself acknowledges the fact, but
elsewhere. Note a few lines from the quarrel between Brutus and Cassius
(Act IV, Sc. 3) beginning with Cassius' speech:
Urge me no more, I shall forget myself.
Foersom (Ed. 1811) has:
_Cas_:
Tir mig ei mer at jeg ei glemmer mig;
husk Eders Vel--og frist mig ikke mere.
_Bru_:
Bort, svage Mand!
_Cas_:
Er dette muligt?
_Bru_:
Hør mig; jeg vil tale.
Skal jeg for Eders vilde Sind mig bøie?
Troer I jeg kyses af en gal Mands Blik?
_Cas_:
O Guder, Guder! skal jeg taale dette?
_Bru_:
Ja, meer. Brum saa dette stolte Hierte brister;
Gak, viis den Hæftighed for Eders Trælle,
og faa dem til at skielve. Skal jeg vige,
og føie Eder? Skal jeg staae og bøie
mig under Eders Luners Arrighed?
Ved Guderne, I skal nedsvælge selv
al Eders Galdes Gift, om end I brast;
thi fra i dag af bruger jeg Jer kun
til Moerskab, ja til latter naar I vredes.
And Lassen has:
_Cas_:
_Tirr_ mig ei mer; jeg kunde glemme mig.
Tænk paa dit eget Vel, frist mig ei længer.
_Bru_:
_Bort, svage Mand_!
_Cas_:
Er dette muligt?
_Bru_:
Hør mig, jeg vil tale.
Skal jeg _mig bøie_ for din Vredes Nykker?
Og skræmmes, naar en gal Mand glor paa mig?
_Cas_:
O Guder, Guder! maa jeg taale dette?
_Bru_:
Dette, ja mer end det. Stamp kun mod Brodden,
ras kun, indtil dit stolte Hjerte brister;
lad dine Slaver se hvor arg du er
og _skjelve_. Jeg--skal jeg tilside smutte?
Jeg gjøre Krus for dig? Jeg krumme Ryg
naar det behager dig? Ved Guderne!
Du selv skal _svælge_ al din _Galdes Gift_,
om saa du brister; thi fra denne Dag
jeg bruger dig til Moro, ja til Latter,
naar du er ilsk.
The _italicized_ passages show that the influence of Foersom was felt
in more than one scene. It would be easy to give other instances.
After all this, we need scarcely more than mention Lassen's
_Macbeth_[21] published in 1883. The usual brief note at the end of the
play gives the usual information that, out of regard for the purpose for
which the translation has been made, certain parts of the porter scene
and certain speeches by Malcolm in Act IV, Sc. 3 have been cut. Readers
will have no difficulty in picking them out.
[21. _Macbeth_. Tragedie af William Shakespeare. Oversat af
H. Lassen. Udgivet af Selskabet for Folkeoplysningens Fremme som
andet Tillægshefte til _Folkevennen_ for 1883. Kristiania. Grøndal
og Søn.]
_Macbeth_ is, like all Lassen's work, dull and prosaic. Like his other
translations from Shakespeare, it has never become popular. The standard
translation in Norway is still the Foersom-Lembcke, a trifle
nationalized with Norwegian words and phrases whenever a new acting
version is to be prepared. And while it is not true that Lassen's
translations are merely norvagicized editions of the Danish, it is true
that they are often so little independent of them that they do not
deserve to supersede the work of Foersom and Lembcke.
G
Norwegian translations of Shakespeare cannot, thus far, be called
distinguished. There is no complete edition either in Riksmaal or
Landsmaal. A few sonnets, a play or two, a scrap of dialogue--Norway
has little Shakespeare translation of her own. Qualitatively, the case
is somewhat better. Several of the renderings we have considered are
extremely creditable, though none of them can be compared with the
best in Danish or Swedish. It is a grateful task, therefore, to call
attention to the translations by Christen Collin. They are not
numerous--only eleven short fragments published as illustrative material
in his school edition (English text) of _The Merchant of Venice_--[22]
but they are of notable quality, and they save the Riksmaal literature
from the reproach of surrendering completely to the Landsmaal the task
of turning Shakespeare into Norwegian. With the exception of a few lines
from _Macbeth_ and _Othello_, the selections are all from _The Merchant
of Venice_.
[22. _The Merchant of Venice_. Med Indledning og Anmærkninger ved
Christen Collin. Kristiania. 1902. (This, of course, does not
include the translations of the sonnets referred to below.)]
A good part of Collin's success must be attributed to his intimate
familiarity with English. The fine nuances of the language do not escape
him, and he can use it not with precision merely but with audacity and
power. Long years of close and sympathetic association with the
literature of England has made English well-nigh a second mother tongue
to this fine and appreciative critic. But he is more than a critic. He
has more than a little of the true poet's insight and the true poet's
gift of song. All this has combined to give us a body of translations
which, for fine felicity, stand unrivalled in Dano-Norwegian. Many of
these have been prepared for lecture purposes and have never been
printed.[23] Only a few have been perpetuated in this text edition of
_The Merchant of Venice_. We shall discuss the edition itself below.
Our concern here is with the translations. We remember Lassen's and
Lembcke's opening of the fifth act. Collin is more successful than his
countryman.
_Lor_:
Hvor Maanen straaler! I en nat som denne,
da milde vindpust kyssed skovens trær
og alting var saa tyst, i slig en nat
Troilus kanske steg op paa Trojas mure
og stønned ud sin sjæl mod Grækerteltene
hvor Cressida laa den nat.
_Jes_:
I slig en nat
kom Thisbe angstfuldt trippende over duggen,--
saa løvens skygge, før hun saa den selv,
og løb forskrækket bort.
_Lor_:
I slig en nat
stod Dido med en vidjekvist i haand
paa havets strand og vinkede Æneas
tilbage til Karthago.
_Jes_:
I slig en nat
Medea sanked urter som foryngede
den gamle Æsons liv.
_Lor_:
I slig en nat
stjal Jessica sig fra den rige Jøde
med en forfløien elsker fra Venedig
og fandt i Belmont ly.
_Jes_:
I en saadan nat
svor ung Lorenzo at hun var ham kjær
og stjal med mange eder hendes hjerte,
men ikke en var sand.
_Lor_:
I slig en nat
skjøn Jessica, den lille heks, bagtalte
sin elsker og han--tilgav hende alt.
[23. I have seen these translations in the typewritten copies
which Professor Collin distributed among his students.]
"A translation of this passage," says Collin,[24] "can hardly be more
than an approximation, but its inadequacy will only emphasize the
beauty of the original." Nevertheless we have here more than a feeble
approximation. It is not equal to Shakespeare, but it is good Norwegian
poetry and as faithful as translation can or need be. It is difficult to
refrain from giving Portia's plea for mercy, but I shall give instead
Collin's striking rendering of Shylock's arraignment of Antonio:[25]
Signor Antonio, mangen en gang og tit
har paa Rialto torv I skjældt mig ud
for mine pengelaan og mine renter....
Jeg bar det med taalmodigt skuldertræk,
for taalmod er jo blit vor stammes merke.
I kalder mig en vantro, blodgrisk _hund_
og spytter paa min jødiske gaberdin--
hvorfor? for brug af hvad der er mit eget!
Nu synes det, I trænger til min hjælp.
Nei virkelig? I kommer nu til mig
og siger: Shylock, laan os penge,--I,
som slængte eders slim hen paa mit skjæg
og satte foden paa mig, som I spændte,
en kjøter fra Jer dør, I be'r om penge!
Hvad skal jeg svare vel? Skal jeg 'ke svare:
Har en hund penge? Er det muligt, at
en kjøter har tre tusinde dukater?
Eller skal jeg bukke dybt og i trælletone
med sænket røst og underdanig hvisken
formæle:
"Min herre, I spytted paa mig sidste onsdag,
en anden dag I spændte mig, en tredje
I kaldte mig en hund; for al den artighed
jeg laaner Jer saa og saa mange penge?"
[24. Collin, _op. cit._, _Indledning_, XII.]
[25. Collin, _op. cit._, _Indledning_, XXVI. (_M. of V._, 1-3)]
It is to be regretted that Collin did not give us Shylock's still more
impassioned outburst to Salarino in Act III. He would have done it well.
It would be a gracious task to give more of this translator's work. It
is, slight though its quantity, a genuine contribution to the body of
excellent translation literature of the world. I shall quote but one
more passage, a few lines from _Macbeth_.[26]
"Det tyktes mig som hørte jeg en røst;
Sov aldrig mer! Macbeth har myrdet søvnen,
den skyldfri søvn, som løser sorgens floke,
hvert daglivs død, et bad for mødig møie,
balsam for sjælesaar og alnaturens
den søde efterret,--dog hovednæringen
ved livets gjæstebud....
_Lady Macbeth_:
Hvad er det, du mener?
_Macbeth_:
"Sov aldrig mer," det skreg til hele huset.
Glarais har myrdet søvnen, derfor Cawdor
skal aldrig mer faa søvn,--Macbeth,
Macbeth skal aldrig mer faa søvn!"
[26. Collin, _op. cit._, _Indledning_, XXV. _Macbeth_ II, 1.]
H
We have hitherto discussed the Norwegian translations of Shakespeare in
almost exact chronological order. It has been possible to do this
because the plays have either been translated by a single man and issued
close together, as in the case of Hartvig Lassen, or they have appeared
separately from the hands of different translators and at widely
different periods. We come now, however, to a group of translations
which, although the work of different men and published independently
from 1901 to 1912, nevertheless belong together. They are all in
Landsmaal and they represent quite clearly an effort to enrich the
literature of the new dialect with translations from Shakespeare. To do
this successfully would, obviously, be a great gain. The Maalstrævere
would thereby prove the capacity of their tongue for the highest, most
exotic forms of literature. They would give to it, moreover, the
discipline which the translation of foreign classics could not fail to
afford. It was thus a renewal of the missionary spirit of Ivar Aasen.
And behind it all was the defiant feeling that Norwegians should have
Shakespeare in Norwegian, not in Danish or bastard Danish.
The spirit of these translations is obvious enough from the opening
sentence of Madhus' preface to his translation of _Macbeth_:[27]
"I should hardly have ventured to publish this first attempt at a
Norwegian translation of Shakespeare if competent men had not urged me
to do so." It is frankly declared to be the first Norwegian translation
of Shakespeare. Hauge and Lassen, to say nothing of the translator of
1818, are curtly dismissed from Norwegian literature. They belong to
Denmark. This might be true if it were not for the bland assumption
that nothing is really Norwegian except what is written in the dialect
of a particular group of Norwegians. The fundamental error of the
"Maalstrævere" is the inability to comprehend the simple fact that
language has no natural, instinctive connection with race. An American
born in America of Norwegian parents _may_, if his parents are energetic
and circumstances favorable, learn the tongue of his father and mother,
but his natural speech, the medium he uses easily, his real
mother-tongue, will be English. Will it be contended that this American
has lost anything in spiritual power or linguistic facility? Quite the
contrary. The use of Danish in Norway has had the unfortunate effect of
stirring up a bitter war between the two literary languages or the two
dialects of the same language, but it has imposed no bonds on the
literary or intellectual powers of a large part of the people, for the
simple reason that these people have long used the language as their
own. And because they live in Norway they have made the speech
Norwegian. Despite its Danish origin, Dano-Norwegian is today as truly
Norwegian as any other Norwegian dialect, and in its literary form it
is, in a sense, more Norwegian than the literary Landsmaal, for the
language of Bjørnson has grown up gradually on Norwegian soil; the
language of Ivar Aasen is not yet acclimatized.
[27. William Shakespeare: _Macbeth_. I norsk Umskrift ved Olav
Madhus. Kristiania. 1901. H. Aschehoug & Co.]
For these reasons it will not do to let Madhus' calm assertion go
unchallenged. The fact is that to a large part of the Norwegian people
Lassen's translations represent merely a slightly Danicized form of
their own language, while to the same people the language of Madhus is
at least as foreign as Swedish. This is not the place for a discussion
of "Sprogstriden." We may give full recognition to Landsmaal without
subscribing to the creed of enthusiasts. And it is still easier to give
credit to the excellence of the Shakespeare translations in Landsmaal
without concerning ourselves with the partisanship of the translator.
What shall we say, then, of the _Macbeth_ of Olav Madhus?
First, that it is decidedly good. The tragedy of Macbeth is stark, grim,
stern, and the vigorous, resonant Norwegian fits admirably. There is
little opportunity, as in Aasen's selections from _Romeo and Juliet_ for
those unfortunate contrasts between the homespun of the modern dialect
and the exquisite silk and gossamer of the vocabulary of romance of
a "cultured language." Madhus has been successful in rendering into
Landsmaal scenes as different as the witch-scene, the porter-scene
(which Lassen omitted for fear it would contaminate the minds of school
children), the exquisite lines of the King and Banquo on their arrival
at Macbeth's castle, and Macbeth's last, tragic soliloquy when he learns
of the death of his queen.
Duncan and Banquo arrive at the castle of Macbeth and Duncan speaks
those lovely lines: "This castle has a pleasant seat," etc. Madhus
translates:
_Duncan_:
Ho hev eit fagert lægje, denne borgi,
og lufti lyar seg og gjer seg smeiki
aat vaare glade sansar.
_Banquo_:
Sumar-gjesten,
den tempel-kjære svala, vitnar med,
at himlens ande blakrar smeikin her,
med di at ho so gjerne her vil byggje.
Det finst kje sule eller takskjeggs livd
og ikkje voll hell vigskar, der ei ho
hev hengt si lette seng og barne-vogge.
Der ho mest bur og bræer, hev eg merkt meg,
er lufti herleg.
This is as light and luminous as possible. Contrast it with the slow,
solemn tempo of the opening of Act I, Sc. 7--Macbeth's "If it were done
when 'tis done," etc.
Um det var gjort, naar d'er gjort, var det væl,
um det vart snart gjort; kunde løynmordsverke,
stengje og binde alle vonde fylgdir
og, med aa faa hurt honom, naa sitt maal,
so denne eine støyten som maa til,
vart enden, alt, det siste som det fyrste
i tidi her--den havsens øyr og bode
me sit paa no--,--med live som kjem etter
det fekk daa vaage voni. Men i slikt
vert domen sagd alt her. Blodtankane,
me el, kjem vaksne att og piner oss,
som gav deim liv og fostra deim; og drykken,
som me hev blanda eiter i aat andre,
vert eingong uta miskunn bodin fram
av rettferds hand aat vaare eigne munnar.
The deep tones of a language born in mountains and along fjords finely
re-echo the dark broodings in Macbeth's soul.
Or take still another example, the witch-scene in Act IV. It opens in
Madhus' version:
_Fyrste Heks_:
Tri gong mjava brandut katt.
_Andre Heks_:
Tri og ein gong bust-svin peip.
_Tridje Heks_:
Val-ramn skrik. D'er tid, d'er tid.
_Fyrste Heks_:
Ring um gryta gjeng me tri;
sleng forgiftigt seid--mang i.
Gyrme-gro, som under stein
dagar tredive og ein
sveita eiter, lat og leid,
koke fyrst i vaaro seid.
_Alle_:
Tvifaldt træl og møda duble;
brand frase, seid buble!
_Andre Heks_:
Møyrkjøt av ein myr-orm kald
so i gryta koke skal.
Ødle-augo, skinnveng-haar,
hundetunge, froskelaar,
slève-brodd, firfisle-svórd,
ule-veng og lyngaal-spórd
til eit seid som sinn kann rengje
hèl-sodd-heitt seg saman mengje!
This is not only accurate; it is a decidedly successful imitation of the
movement of the original. Madhus has done a first-rate piece of work.
The language of witch-craft is as international as the language of
science. But only a poet can turn it to poetic use.
Not quite so successful is Macbeth's soliloquy when the death of Lady
Macbeth is announced to him:
Det skuld'ho drygt med.
Aat slikt eit ord var komi betre stund.--
"I morgo" og "i morgo" og "i morgo,"
slik sig det smaatt fram etter, dag for dag,
til siste ord i livsens sogubok;
og kvart "i gaar" hev daarer vegen lyst
til dust og daude.
It is difficult to say just where the fault lies, but the thing seems
uncouth, a trifle too colloquial and peasant-like. The fault may be the
translator's, but something must also be charged to his medium. The
passage in Shakespeare is simple but it breathes distinction. The
Landsmaal version is merely colloquial, even banal. One fine line
there is:
"til siste ord i livsens sogubok."
But the rest suggests too plainly the limitations of an uncultivated
speech.
In 1905 came a translation of _The Merchant of Venice_ by Madhus,[28]
and, uniform with it, a little book--_Soga um Kaupmannen i Venetia_ (The
Story of The Merchant of Venice) in which the action of the play is told
in simple prose. In the appendatory notes the translator acknowledges
his obligation to Arne Garborg--"Arne Garborg hev gjort mig framifraa
god hjelp, her som med _Macbeth_. Takk og ære hev han."
[28. William Shakespeare--_Kaupmannen i Venetia_. Paa Norsk ved
Olav Madhus. Oslo. 1905.]
What we have said of _Macbeth_ applies with no less force here. The
translation is more than merely creditable--it is distinctly good. And
certainly it is no small feat to have translated Shakespeare in all his
richness and fulness into what was only fifty years ago a rustic and
untrained dialect. It is the best answer possible to the charge often
made against Landsmaal that it is utterly unable to convey the subtle
thought of high and cosmopolitan culture. This was the indictment of
Bjørnson,[29] of philologists like Torp,[30] and of a literary critic
like Hjalmar Christensen.[31] The last named speaks repeatedly of the
feebleness of Landsmaal when it swerves from its task of depicting
peasant life. His criticism of the poetry of Ivar Mortensen is one long
variation of this theme--the immaturity of Landsmaal. All of this is
true. A finished literary language, even when its roots go deep into a
spoken language, cannot be created in a day. It must be enriched and
elaborated, and it must gain flexibility from constant and varied use.
It is precisely this apprentice stage that Landsmaal is now in. The
finished "Kultursprache" will come in good time. No one who has read
Garborg will deny that it can convey the subtlest emotions; and Madhus'
translations of Shakespeare are further evidence of its possibilities.
[29. Bjørnson: _Vort Sprog_.]
[30. Torp. _Samtiden_, Vol. XIX (1908), p. 408.]
[31. _Vor Literatur_.]
That Madhus does not measure up to his original will astonish no one
who knows Shakespeare translations in other languages. Even Tieck's
and Schlegel's German, or Hagberg's Swedish, or Foersom's Danish is no
substitute for Shakespeare. Whether or not Madhus measures up to these
is not for me to decide, but I feel very certain that he will not suffer
by comparison with the Danish versions by Wolff, Meisling, Wosemose, or
even Lembcke, or with the Norwegian versions of Hauge and Lassen. The
feeling that one gets in reading Madhus is not that he is uncouth, still
less inaccurate, but that in the presence of great imaginative richness
he becomes cold and barren. We felt it less in the tragedy of _Macbeth_,
where romantic color is absent; we feel it strongly in _The Merchant of
Venice_, where the richness of romance is instinct in every line. The
opening of the play offers a perfect illustration. In answer to
Antonio's complaint "In sooth I know not why I am so sad," etc, Salarino
replies in these stately and sounding lines:
Your mind is tossing on the ocean;
There, where your argosies, with portly sail,--
Like signiors and rich burghers of the flood,
Or, as it were, the pageants of the sea,--
Do overpeer the petty traffickers
That curt'sy to them, do them reverence,
As they fly by them with their woven wings.
The picture becomes very much less stately in Norwegian folk-speech:
Paa storehave huskar hugen din,
der dine langferd-skip med staute segl
som hovdingar og herremenn paa sjø
i drusteferd, aa kalle, gagar seg
paa baara millom kræmarskutur smaa',
som nigjer aat deim og som helsar audmjukt
naar dei med vovne vengir framum stryk.
The last two lines are adequate, but the rest has too much the flavor of
Ole and Peer discussing the fate of their fishing-smacks. Somewhat more
successful is the translation of the opening of Act V, doubtless because
it is simpler, less full of remote and sophisticated imagery. By way of
comparison with Lassen and Collin, it may be interesting to have it at
hand.
_Lor_:
Ovfagert lyser maanen. Slik ei natt,
daa milde vindar kysste ljuve tre
so lindt at knapt dei susa, slik ei natt
steig Troilus upp paa Troja-murane
og sukka saali si til Greklands telt,
der Kressida laag den natti.
_Jes_:
Slik ei natt
gjekk Thisbe hugrædd yvi doggvaat voll
og løveskuggen saag fyrr løva kom;
og rædd ho der-fraa rømde.
_Lor_:
Slik ei natt
stod Dido med ein siljutein i hand
paa villan strand og vinka venen sin
tilbake til Kartago.
_Jes_:
Slik ei natt
Medea trolldoms-urtir fann, til upp
aa yngje gamle Æson.
_Lor_:
Slik ei natt
stal Jessika seg ut fraa judens hus
og med ein fark til festarmann for av
so langt som hit til Belmont.
_Jes_:
Slik ei natt
svor ung Lorenso henne elskhugs eid
og hjarta hennar stal med fagre ord
som ikkje aatte sanning.
_Lor_:
Slik ei natt
leksa ven' Jessika som eit lite troll
upp for sin kjærst, og han tilgav ho.
_Jes_:
I natteleik eg heldt nok ut med deg,
um ingin kom; men hyss, eg høyrer stig.
But when Madhus turns from such flights of high poetry to low comedy,
his success is complete. It may be a long time before Landsmaal can
successfully render the mighty line of Marlowe, or the manifold music of
Shakespeare, but we should expect it to give with perfect verity the
language of the people. And when we read the scenes in which Lancelot
Gobbo figures, there is no doubt that here Landsmaal is at home. Note,
for example, Act II, Sc. 1:
"Samvite mitt vil visst ikkje hjelpe meg med aa røme fraa denne
juden, husbond min. Fenden stend her attum òlbogen min og segjer til
meg: "Gobbo, Lanselot Gobbo; gode Lanselot, eller gode Gobbo, bruka
leggine; tak hyven; drag din veg." Samvite segjer: "nei, agta deg,
ærlige Gobbo," eller som fyr sagt: "ærlige Lanselot Gobbo, røm
ikkje; set deg mot røming med hæl og taa!" Men fenden, den
stormodige, bed meg pakka meg; "fremad mars!" segjer fenden; "legg i
veg!" segjer fenden; "for alt som heilagt er," segjer fenden; "vaaga
paa; drag i veg!" Men samvite heng un halsen paa hjarta mitt og
talar visdom til meg; "min ærlige ven Lanselot, som er son av ein
ærlig mann, eller rettare: av eit ærligt kvende; for skal eg segja
sant, so teva det eit grand svidt av far min; han hadde som ein
attaat-snev; naah; samvite segjer: "du skal ikkje fantegaa." "Du
skal fantegaa," segjer fenden; "nei; ikkje fantegaa," segjer
samvite. "Du samvit," segjer eg, "du raader meg godt." "Du fenden,"
segjer eg, "du raader meg godt." Fylgde eg no samvite, so vart eg
verande hjaa juden, som--forlate mi synd--er noko som ein devel; og
rømer eg fraa juden, so lyder eg fenden, som--beintfram sagt--er
develen sjølv. Visst og sannt: juden er sjølve develen i karnition;
men etter mitt vit er samvite mit vitlaust, som vil raade meg til aa
verta verande hjaa juden. Fenden gjev meg den venlegaste raadi; eg
tek kuten, fenden; hælane mine stend til din kommando; eg tek kuten."
This has the genuine ring. The brisk colloquial vocabulary fits
admirably the brilliant sophistry of the argument. And both could come
only from Launcelot Gobbo. For "the simplicity of the folk" is one of
those fictions which romantic closet study has woven around the study of
"the people."
Of the little re-telling of _The Merchant of Venice_, "Soga um
Kaupmannen i Venetia"[32] which appeared in the same year, nothing need
be said. It is a simple, unpretentious summary of the story with a
certain charm which simplicity and naïveté always give. No name appears
on the title-page, but we are probably safe in attributing it to
Madhus, for in the note to _Kaupmannen i Venetia_ we read: "I _Soga um
Kaupmannen i Venetia_ hev ein sjølve forteljingi som stykkji er bygt
paa."
[32. _Soga um Kaupmannen i Venetia_. Oslo, 1905.]
I
In the year 1903, midway between the publication of Madhus' _Macbeth_
and the appearance of his _Kaupmannen i Venetia_, there appeared in the
chief literary magazine of the Landsmaal movement, "Syn og Segn," a
translation of the fairy scenes of _A Midsummer Night's Dream_ by Erik
Eggen.[33] This is the sort of material which we should expect Landsmaal
to render well. Oberon and Titania are not greatly different from Nissen
and Alverne in Norwegian fairy tales, and the translator had but to
fancy himself in Alveland to be in the enchanted wood near Athens. The
spirit of the fairy scenes in Shakespeare is akin to the spirit of
Asbjørnson's "Huldre-Eventyr." There is in them a community of feeling,
of fancy, of ideas. And whereas Madhus had difficulty with the sunny
romance of Italy, Eggen in the story of Puck found material ready to
hand. The passage translated begins Act II, Sc. 1, and runs through Act
II to Oberon's words immediately before the entrance of Helen and
Demetrius:
But who comes here? I am invisible;
And I will overhear their conference.
[33. _Alveliv. Eller Shakespeare's Midsumarnatt Draum_ ved Erik
Eggen. _Syn og Segn_, 1903. No. 3-6, pp. (105-114); 248-259.]
Then the translator omits everything until Puck re-enters and Oberon
greets him with the words:
Velkomen, vandrar; hev du blomen der?
(Hast thou the flower there? Welcome, wanderer.)
Here the translation begins again and goes to the exit of Oberon and the
entrance of Lysander and Hermia. This is all in the first selection in
_Syn og Segn_, No. 3.
In the sixth number of the same year (1903) the work is continued. The
translation here begins with Puck's words (Act III):
What hempen homespuns have we swaggering here?
So near the cradle of the fairy queen?
What, a play toward! I'll be an auditor;
An actor, too, if I see cause.
Then it breaks off again and resumes with the entrance of Puck and
Bottom adorned with an ass's head. Quince's words: "O monstrous! O
strange!" are given and then Puck's speech: "I'll follow you: I'll lead
you about a round." After this there is a break till Bottom's song:
"The ousel cock, so black of hue," etc.
And now all proceeds without break to the _Hail_ of the last elf called
in to serve Bottom, but the following speeches between Bottom and the
fairies, Cobweb, Mustardseed and Peaseblossom, are all cut, and the
scene ends with Titania's speech:
"Come, wait upon him, lead him to my bower," etc.
Act III, Sc. 2, follows immediately, but the translation ends with the
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.]
Act I, Sc. 1.
An open place on the road to Sir Oliver's house.
The scene opens with a short, exceedingly free rendering of
Orlando's speech and runs on to the end of Scene 1 in Shakespeare.
Act I, Sc. 2.
Outside of Duke Frederik's Palace.
Begins with I, 2 and goes to I, 3. Then follows without change of
scene, I, 3. and, following that, 1, 3.