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.[I.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.

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: