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.

## Act II.

In Wildenvey this is all one scene.

Opens with a rhapsodical conversation between the banished duke and Amiens on the glories of nature and the joys of out-door life. It is fully in Shakespeare's tone, but Wildenvey's own invention. After this the scene continues with II, 1. The first lord's speech in Wildenvey, however, is merely a free adaptation of the original, and the later speech of the first lord, describing Jacques' reveries on the hunt, is put into the mouth of Jacques himself. A few entirely new speeches follow and the company goes out upon the hunt.

There is then a slight pause, but no scene division, and Shakespeare's II, 4 follows. This is succeeded again without a break, by II, 5, II, 6, and II, 7 (the opening of II, 7 to the entrance of Jacques, is omitted altogether) to the end of the act.

## Act III.

This act has two scenes.

Sc. 1. In Duke Frederik's palace. It opens with II, I and then follows III, 1.

Sc. 2. In the Forest of Arden. Evening.

Begins with III, 2. Then follows III, 4, III, 5, IV, 1.

## Act IV.

Wildenvey's last act (IV) opens with Shakespeare's IV, 2 and continues: IV, 3, V, 1, V, 2, V, 3, V, 4.

A study of this scheme shows that Wildenvey has done no great violence to the fable nor to the characters. His shifts and changes are sensible enough. In the treatment of the text, however, he has had no scruples. Shakespeare is mercilessly cut and mangled.

The ways in which this is done are many. A favorite device is to break up long speeches into dialogue. To make this possible he has to put speeches of his own invention into the mouths of other characters. The opening of the play gives an excellent illustration. In Wildenvey we read:

_Orlando_: (kommer ind med tjeneren Adam) Nu kan du likesaa godt faa vite hvordan alle mine bedrøveligheter begynder, Adam! Min salig far testamenterte mig nogen fattige tusen kroner og paala uttrykkelig min bror at gi mig en standsmæssig opdragelse. Men se hvordan han opfylder sin broderpligt mot mig! Han lar min bror Jacques studere, og rygtet melder om hans store fremgang. Men mig underholder han hjemme, det vil si, han holder mig hjemme uten at underholde mig. For man kan da vel ikke kalde det at underholde en adelsmand som ellers regnes for at staldfore en okse!

_Adam_: Det er synd om Eder, herre, I som er min gamle herres bedste søn! Men jeg tjener Eders bror, og er alene tjener...

_Orl_: Her hos ham har jeg ikke kunnet lægge mig til noget andet end vækst, og det kan jeg være ham likesaa forbunden for som hans husdyr hist og her. Formodentlig er det det jeg har arvet av min fars aand som gjør oprør mot denne behandling. Jeg har ingen utsigt til nogen forandring til det bedre, men hvad der end hænder, vil jeg ikke taale det længer.

Orlando's speech, we see, has been broken up into two, and between the two new speeches has been interpolated a speech by Adam which does not occur in the original. The same trick is resorted to repeatedly. Note, for instance, Jacques first speech on the deer (Act II, 7) and Oliver's long speech in IV, 3. The purpose of this is plain enough--to enliven the dialogue and speed up the action. Whether or not it is a legitimate way of handling Shakespeare is another matter.

More serious than this is Wildenvey's trick of adding whole series of speeches. We have noted in our survey of the "bearbeidelse" that the second act opens with a dialogue between the Duke and Amiens which is a gratuitous addition of Wildenvey's. It is suggested by the original, but departs from it radically both in form and content.

Den Landflygtige Hertug (kommer ut fra en grotte i skogen) Vær hilset, dag, som lægges til de andre av mine mange motgangs dage. Vær hilset nu, naar solen atter stempler sit gyldne segl paa jordens stolte pande. Vær hilset, morgen, med din nye rigdom, med dug og duft fra alle trær og blomster. Glade, blanke fugleøines perler blinker alt av sol som duggens draaper, hilser mig som herre og som ven. (En fugl flyver op over hans hode.) Ei, lille sangerskjelm, godt ord igjen?

_Amiens_: (hertugens ven, kommer likeledes ut av hulen). Godmorgen, ven og broder i eksilet.

_Hertugen_: Godmorgen, Amiens, du glade sanger! Du er vel enig i at slik en morgen i skogen her med al dens liv og lek er fuld erstatning for den pragt vi tapte, ja mer end hoffets smigergyldne falskhet?

_Amiens_: Det ligner litt paa selve Edens have, og trær og dyr og andre forekomster betragter os som Adamer, kanhænde.

_Hertugen_: Din spøg er vel en saadan sanger værd. Du mener med at her er alting herlig, sommer, vinter, vaar og høsttid veksler. Solen skinner, vind og veiret driver. Vinterblaasten blaaser op og biter og fortæller uden sminket smiger hvem vi er, og hvor vi os befinder. Ja, livet her er ei ly for verdens ondskap, er stolt og frit og fuldt av rike glæder: hver graasten synes god og kirkeklok, hvert redetræ er jo en sangers slot, og alt er skjønt, og alt er saare godt.

_Amiens_: Du er en godt benaadet oversætter, naar du kan tolke skjæbnens harske talesæt i slike sterke, stemningsfulde ord...

(En hofmand, derefter Jacques og tjenere kommer.)

_Hertugen_: Godmorgen, venner--vel, saa skal vi jage paa vildtet her, de vakre, dumme borgere av denne øde og forlate stad...

_Jacques_: Det er synd at søndre deres vakre lemmer med pile-odd.

_Amiens_: Det samme sier du altid, du er for melankolsk og bitter, Jacques.

A careful comparison of the translation with the original will reveal certain verbal resemblances, notably in the duke's speech:

Din spøk er vel en saadan sanger værd, etc.

But, even allowing for that, it is a rephrasing rather than a translation. The stage action, too, is changed. Notice that Jacques appears in the scene, and that in the episode immediately following, the second part of the first lord's speech is put into Jacques' mouth. In other words, he is made to caricature himself!

This is Wildenvey's attitude throughout. To take still another example.

## Act IV, 2 begins in the English with a brief dialogue in prose between

Jacques and the two lords. In Wildenvey this is changed to a rhymed dialogue in iambic tetrameters between Jacques and Amiens. In like manner, the blank verse dialogue between Silvius and Phebe (Silvius and Pippa) is in Norwegian rendered, or rather paraphrased, in iambic verse rhyming regularly abab.

Occasionally meanings are read into the play which not only do not belong in Shakespeare but which are ridiculously out of place. As an illustration, note the dialogue between Orlando and Rosalind in II, 2 (Original, III, 2). Orlando remarks: "Your accent is something finer than could be purchased in so remote a dwelling." Wildenvey renders this: "Eders sprog er mer elevert end man skulde vente i disse vilde trakter. De taler ikke Landsmaal." Probably no one would be deceived by this gratuitous satire on the Landsmaal, but, obviously, it has no place in what pretends to be a translation. The one justification for it is that Shakespeare himself could not have resisted so neat a word-play.

Wildenvey's version, therefore, can only be characterized as needlessly free. For the text as such he has absolutely no regard. But for the fact that he has kept the fable and, for the most part, the characters, intact, we should characterize it as a belated specimen of Sille Beyer's notorious Shakespeare "bearbeidelser" in Denmark. But Wildenvey does not take Sille Beyer's liberties with the dramatis personae and he has, moreover, what she utterly lacked--poetic genius.

For that is the redeeming feature of _Livet i Skogen_--it does not translate Shakespeare but it makes him live. The delighted audience which sat night after night in Christiania and Copenhagen and drank in the loveliness of Wildenvey's verse and Halvorsen's music cared little whether the lines that came over the footlights were philologically an accurate translation or not. They were enchanted by Norwegian verse and moved to unfeigned delight by the cleverness of the prose. If Wildenvey did not succeed in translating _As You Like It_--one cannot believe that he ever intended to,--he did succeed in reproducing something of "its imperishable woodland spirit, its fresh breath of out-of-doors."

We have already quoted the opening of Act II. It is not Shakespeare but it is good poetry in itself. And the immortal scene between Touchstone and Corin in III, 2 (Shak. III, 2), in which Touchstone clearly proves that the shepherd is damned, is a capital piece of work. The following fragment must serve as an example:

_Touchstone_: Har du været ved hoffet, hyrde?

_Korin_: Visselig ikke.

_Touch_: Da er du evig fordømt.

_Korin_: Det haaber jeg da ikke.

_Touch_: Visselig, da er du fordømt som en sviske.

_Korin_: Fordi jeg ikke har været ved hoffet? Hvad mener I?

_Touch_: Hvis du ikke har været ved hoffet, saa har du aldrig set gode seder, og hvis du ikke har set gode seder, saa maa dine seder være slette, og slette seder er synd, og syndens sold er død og fordømmelse. Du er i en betænkelig tilstand, hyrde!

And the mocking verses all rhyming in _in-ind_ in III, 3 (Shak. III, 2): "From the East to western Ind," etc., are given with marvelous cleverness:

Fra øst til vest er ei at finde en ædelsten som Rosalinde. Al verden om paa alle vinde skal rygtet gaa om Rosalinde. Hvor har en maler nogensinde et kunstverk skapt som Rosalinde? Al anden deilighet maa svinde av tanken bort--for Rosalinde.

Or Touchstone's parody:

Hjorten skriker efter hinde, skrik da efter Rosalinde, kat vil katte gjerne finde, hvem vil finde Rosalinde. Vinterklær er tit for tynde, det er ogsaa Rosalinde. Nøtten søt har surhamshinde, slik en nøtt er Rosalinde. Den som ros' med torn vil finde, finder den--og Rosalinde.

With even greater felicity Wildenvey has rendered the songs of the play. His verses are not, in any strict sense, translations, but they have a life and movement which, perhaps, interpret the original more fully than any translation could interpret it. What freshness and sparkle in "Under the Greenwood Tree!" I give only the first stanza:

Under de grønne trær hvem vil mig møte der? Hvem vil en tone slaa frit mot det blide blaa? Kom hit og herhen, hit og herhen, kom, kjære ven, her skal du se, trær skal du se, sommer og herlig veir skal du se.

Or what could be better than the exhilirating text of "Blow, blow, thou winter wind," as Wildenvey has given it? Again only the first stanza:

Blaas, blaas du barske vind, troløse venners sind synes os mere raa. Bar du dig end saa sint, bet du dog ei saa blindt, pustet du ogsaa paa. Heiho! Syng heiho! i vor skog under løvet. Alt venskap er vammelt, al elskov er tøvet, men her under løvet er ingen bedrøvet.

_Livet i Skogen_, then, must not be read as a translation of _As You Like It_, but is immensely worth reading for its own sake. Schiller recast and rewrote _Macbeth_ in somewhat the same way, but Schiller's _Macbeth_, condemned by its absurd porter-scene, is today nothing more than a literary curiosity. I firmly believe that Wildenvey's "bearbeidelse" deserves a better fate. It gave new life to the Shakespeare tradition on the Norwegian stage, and is in itself, a genuine contribution to the literature of Norway.

SUMMARY

If we look over the field of Norwegian translation of Shakespeare, the impression we get is not one to inspire awe. The translations are neither numerous nor important. There is nothing to be compared with the German of Tieck and Schlegel the Danish of Foersom, or the Swedish of Hagberg.

But the reason is obvious. Down to 1814 Norway was politically and culturally a dependency of Denmark. Copenhagen was the seat of government, of literature, and of polite life. To Copenhagen cultivated Norwegians looked for their models and their ideals. When Shakespeare made his first appearance in the Danish literary world--Denmark and Norway--it was, of course, in pure Danish garb. Boye, Rosenfeldt, and Foersom gave to their contemporaries more or less satisfactory translations of Shakespeare, and Norwegians were content to accept the Danish versions. In one or two instances they made experiments of their own. An unknown man of letters translated a scene from _Julius Caesar_ in 1782, and in 1818 appeared a translation of _Coriolanus_. But there is little that is typically Norwegian about either of these--a word or a phrase here and there. For the rest, they are written in pure Danish, and but for the title-page, no one could tell whether they were published in Copenhagen or Christiania and Trondhjem.

In the meantime Foersom had begun his admirable Danish translations, and the work stopped in Norway. The building of a nation and literary interests of another character absorbed the attention of the cultivated world. Hauge's translation of _Macbeth_ is not significant, nor are those of Lassen thirty years later. A scholar could, of course, easily show that they are Norwegian, but that is all. They never succeeded in displacing Foersom-Lembcke.

More important are the Landsmaal translations beginning with Ivar Aasen's in 1853. They are interesting because they mark one of the most important events in modern Norwegian culture--the language struggle. Ivar Aasen set out to demonstrate that "maalet" could be used in literature of every sort, and the same purpose, though in greatly tempered form, is to be detected in every Landsmaal translation since. Certainly in their outward aim they have succeeded. And, despite the handicap of working in a language new, rough, and untried, they have given to their countrymen translations of parts of Shakespeare which are, at least, as good as those in "Riksmaal."

Herman Wildenvey stands alone. His work is neither a translation nor a mere paraphrase; it is a reformulating of Shakespeare into a new work of art. He has accomplished a feat worth performing, but it cannot be called translating Shakespeare. It must be judged as an independent work.

Whether Norway is always to go to Denmark for her standard Shakespeare, or whether she is to have one of her own is, as yet, a question impossible to answer. A pure Landsmaal translation cannot satisfy, and many Norwegians refuse to recognize the Riksmaal as Norwegian at all. In the far, impenetrable future the language question may settle itself, and when that happy day comes, but not before, we may look with some confidence for a "standard" Shakespeare in a literary garb which all Norwegians will recognize as their own.

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