prikk det fjell
med toresmell,
daa sunder fell
kvar port so sterk.
Stig Fobus fram
bak skyatram,
daa sprikk med skam
alt gygere-herk.
Det der laag no hogt 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 grote steinen, eg skal jamre so faelt so," one who
has something of Norwegian "Sprachgefuehl" 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 Monsaas; 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 foder kjaerlerks fryd og gaman,
ved baale, der seg dronning Dido brende,
daa seg AEneas trulaus f