Others, however, apparently satisfied with safety for a justification, have not treated with the same respect Mr. Rostand's moral rights and the arrangements made by him for the American production of his "Cyrano de Bergerac." The play has been mutilated, adapted, or "improved" to suit. There are just now, it is said, some twenty so-called stock companies presenting it in different cities throughout the United States. The original in French has been openly reprinted here, likewise its British translation, and other translations (so-called) have been offered to the public. Mr. Rostand did not copyright. Hence the result of his labours, of his genius, belongs, it would seem, to whoever chooses to pick it up!
In these circumstances and now, there certainly can be no impropriety in the publication of this work, the more so as Mr. Rostand is to receive in this instance the royalties to which he is morally entitled.
Further even. Who knows but that this royalty-paying version in book form, or produced on the stage (the right to perform it having been expressly reserved by the writer), may not assist in setting aside the different versions that now interfere with Mr. Rostand's moral rights, as well as with the arrangements he chose to make for stage production in America? Diffidence would prevent the translator, were it not for the valuable encouragement he has received, from adding that the present version of "Cyrano de Bergerac" may, perchance, better than any of the renderings in English now extant, lead to an adequate conception of the beauties of the work in French.
At all events, those who were consulted, including the eminent publishers, and the distinguished writer of the Introduction to this book, freely agreed with the author in his opinion that publication under the foregoing conditions could do no harm, while it might effect considerable good, were it only as an example in many respects, proving, among other things, that there are those, even in America, for whom impunity does not constitute right.
But enough "talk of shop," perhaps too much, for the genus irritabile vatum.
At this point, the author feels that, if he expatiated on his methods of translation, he might with some justice be accused of tiresome insistence, or, to put it more gently, of obduracy in esoterism. He will, therefore, confine himself to a few statements, and make them as short as possible.
This version of "Cyrano de Bergerac" was written originally for the stage, where, according to opinion behind as well as before the curtain, in America at least, verse may be acceptable for the expression of occasional flights of thought, but not through the whole of a play, and especially not for such portions of a play as are necessarily colloquial. To explain this alleged distaste for verse on the stage would lead us far beyond the limits of a preface. Suffice it, then, to say, reserving developments for some future occasion, that, for poetic emotion, English verse is more than the French dependent on form, on expression. In other words, English verse is less than the French free to consider only thought, or substance, irrespective of words, or construction. As a rule, then, it would seem in English that dress comes first and figure next; while in French the order appears to be reversed. In consequence (and setting aside the fact that there exists a "magic of words," that has been an all-time and frequent deceiver of men), the average reader or listener instinctively expects from English verse a somewhat conventional language, diversified with unusual words and exceptional contractions, inversions, etc. It follows that, when this special phraseology and peculiar construction are applied to everyday thoughts, facts, occurrences and sentiments, the effect produced is not an agreeable one, by reason of a sort of clash, the appearance of a thing of prose, straight-laced and overdressed in verse, in a word, unnaturalness. Further, the majority of English-speaking actors, unavoidably imbued with the same spirit, so soon as they deal with verse, unconsciously resort to a stilted diction that is distressingly far-removed from the art that consists, through tedious and patient work, in being natural.
Natural, unconstrained verse can, with proper care, it is thought, be written in English, and can certainly, with appropriate training, be delivered with naturalness. This done, our audiences would no doubt take kindly to the rhythm of plays in verse. But, as this does not yet seem to have been fully accomplished, the undersigned translator of "Cyrano de Bergerac" reluctantly decided to use both verse and prose. For this liberty, though justified as above, he feels that he owes the French poet an apology, adding, however, that the deed brought its own punishment, since, strange as it may appear to some, it would have been much easier to render the play all in verse.
As to verse and metrics, on which, in this instance, a book could (and later, may) be written, the author of this translation must now rest satisfied with the following brief remarks.