FIDÉLITÉ DE MES VERS
Pour prouver que mes traductions de poésies anglaises en vers français sont pour ainsi presque mot pour mot, autant du moins qu'il m'est possible de le faire, j'ai traduit littéralement en prose, sans m'arréter aux idiomes anglais corrects, et en vers blancs français, le célèbre monologue de Hamlet. On peut comparer cette traduction avec celle de Voltaire du même' monologue en vers rimes, et que j'ai retraduite en prose anglaise, mais sans égard pour les corrects idiomes anglais. Cette traduction ne peut être plus mauvaise.
J'ai indiqué par des italiques tous les mots qui ne sont pas littéralement identiques, mais que l'on peut trouver dans les meilleurs dictionnaires comme étant l'une des significations des mots de Voltaire, ou quelquefois j'ai substitué au mot exact de Shakespeare, mot devenu hors d'usage, un mot plus contemporain. Mais dans ce cas, j'ai mis ce mot en italiques, comme par exemple le mot fardels, employé du temps de Shakespeare, et que j'ai remplacé par le mot burdens.
Voici d'abord le texte original de Shakespeare.
HAMLET'S SOLILOQUY (Shakespeare).
To be, or not to be, that is the question.
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The stings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles.
And by opposing end them ? To die, to sleep.
No more, and by a sleep, to say we end
The heart ache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to; 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep.
To sleep, perchance to dream : ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death, what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause ; there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life :
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time.
The oppressors wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay.
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit from the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin ? Who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life;
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovered country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will ;
And makes us rather bear the ills we have.
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment.
With this regard their currents turn awry
And lose the name of action.
HAMLET'S SOLILOQUY
Retranslated word for word by Sir T. Sinclair from his French translation of that monologue.
To be or not to be (ah) that is (all) the question,
"Whether 'tis (much) nobler for the (soul) to suffer
The (blows) and arro\vs of outrageous lortune
Or (else) to arm (oneself) against a sea of troubles
(Then) in opposing end them ? To die, to sleep,
No more, and by a (heavy) sleep which ends
The heart ache and the thousand natural shocks
To which the flesh is (subject), 'tis a consummation
(Which one must) wish most devoutly. To die, to sleep,
To sleep (then) perchance to dream (ah) there's the (obstacle).
For in that sleep what dreams may come
When we have (rid ourselves) of this mortal coil
Must (make) us pause, that is the reason
Which gives calamity so long a life.
For who Avould bear the (blows), the scorns ot time.
The oppressors wrong, the proud man's contumely.
The pangs of (vain) love, the law's delays,
The insolence of officials, and the spurns
That patient merit takes from the unworthy,
When (this man) might take his quietus
With a bodkin? who would bear (burdens)
Whilst grunting, sweating (leading) a (hard) life,
II the dread of something after death.
Of the undiscovered country from whose bourn
No traveller i-eturns did not trouble the heart,
And makes us bear (present) ills rather
Than (rush) to others that we know not ot.
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,
And the native hue of resolution
Retires sicklied by the pale cast of thought.
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their (important) currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.
Dans cette relraduction, il y a deux mots omis (death, bare) ; vingt-neuf mots sur deux cent soixante-quatre ne sont pas rendus littéralement, quoiqu'ils soient toujours traduits par des mots synonymes.
HAMLET'S SOLILOQUY
Retranslated ivoi'd for word from Voltaire's translation of that monologtie.
To morrow one must choose and pass away in a moment
From life to death and from being to nothingness.
Just Gods, if there are any, enlighten my courage.
Must one die, bent under the hand which outrages me,
Support or finish my misfortune and my fate ?
What am I, who stops me, and what is death ?
It is the end of our woes, it is my only asylum,
After long transports, it is a quiet sleep,
One sleeps, and everything dies. But a frightful awakening
Will follow perhaps the sweet pleasures of sleep,
They menace us, they say that this short liie
Is soon followed by eternal torments.
Oh death, fatal moment, frightful eternity,
Every heart at thy very name is frozen and terrified,
Eh, who could without thee support this life.
Bless the hypocrisy of our powerful scoundrels
Pour incense on the errors, of an unworthy mistres
Grovel beneath a minister, adore his elevation,
And show the languors of his depressed soul,
To ungrateful friends who turn away their look ?
Death would be too sweet in these extremities.
But a scruple speaks and cries to us : slop, ||
It forbids this happy homicide from our hands,
And of a warlike hero makes a timid Christian.
Etc., etc.
Voltaire omet les dernières lignes de ce monologue, or ces lignes sont le point culminant de la pièce :
And makes us rather bear the ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of.
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all.
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment ,
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.
L'original de Shakespeare a trente-trois lignes, Voltaire n'en a que vingt-quatre.
