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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 “Literaturfaehigkeit.”  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 forst; gjor holdt og sig hvem der!

  Ber: 
  Vor konge laenge 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 loser av.  Her er saa surt, og jeg er dodsens traet.

  Ber: 
  Har du hat rolig vagt?

  Fra: 
      En mus har ei
  sig rort.

  Ber: 
      Nu vel, god nat. 
  Hvis du Marcellus og Horatio ser,
  som skal ha vakt med mig, bed dem sig skynde.

  Fra: 
  Jeg horer 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 lost 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: