It was many years before the anonymous contributor to Trondhjems Allehaande was to have a follower.  From 1782 to 1807 Norwegians were engaged in accumulating wealth, an occupation, indeed, in which they were remarkably successful.  There was no time to meddle with Shakespeare in a day when Norwegian shipping and Norwegian products were profitable as never before.  After 1807, when the blundering panic of the British plunged Denmark and Norway into war on the side of Napoleon, there were sterner things to think of.  It was a sufficiently difficult matter to get daily bread.  But in 1818, when the country had, as yet, scarcely begun to recover from the agony of the Napoleonic wars, the second Norwegian translation from Shakespeare appeared.[8]

    [8. Coriolanus, efter Shakespeare.  Christiania. 1818.]

The translator of this version of Coriolanus is unknown.  Beyond the bare statement on the title page that the translation is made directly from Shakespeare and that it is printed and published in Christiania by Jacob Lehmann, there is no information to be had.  Following the title there is a brief quotation from Dr. Johnson and one from the “Zeitung fuer die elegante Welt.”  Again Norway anticipates her sister nation; for not till the following year did Denmark get her first translation of the play.[9]

    [9.  The first Danish translation of Coriolanus by P.F.  Wulff
    appeared in 1819.]

Ewald, Oehlenschlaeger, and Foersom had by this time made the blank verse of Shakespeare a commonplace in Dano-Norwegian literature.  Even the mediocre could attempt it with reasonable assurance of success.  The Coriolanus of 1818 is fairly correct, but its lumbering verse reveals plainly that the translator had trouble with his metre.  Two or three examples will illustrate.  First, the famous allegory of Menenius:[10]

  Menenius:
  I enten maae erkjende at I ere
  Heel ondskabsfulde, eller taale, man
  For Uforstandighed anklager Eder. 
  Et snurrigt Eventyr jeg vil fortaelle;
  Maaskee I har det hort, men da det tjener
  Just til min Hensigt, jeg forsoge vil
  Noiagtigen det Eder at forklare.
    . . . . . 
  Jeg Eder det fortaelle skal; med et
  Slags Smil, der sig fra Lungen ikke skrev;
  Omtrent saaledes—­thi I vide maae
  Naar jeg kan lade Maven tale, jeg
  Den og kan lade smile—­stikende
  Den svarede hvert misfornoiet Lem
  Og hver Rebel, som den misundte al
  Sin Indtaegt; Saa misunde I Senatet
  Fordi det ikke er det som I ere.

Forste Borger:  Hvorledes.  Det var Mavens Svar!  Hvorledes?  Og Hovedet, der kongeligt er kronet, Og Oiet, der er blot Aarvaagenhed; Og Hjertet, som os giver gode Raad; Og Tungen, vor Trumpet, vor Stridsmand, Armen, Og Foden, vores Pragthest, med de flere Befaestingner, der stotte vor Maskine, Hvis de nu skulde....