whom she has hidden in the
cow-stable, and persuading them that he is a spy for King Magnus sends
two of them to his own army for reinforcements. In the meanwhile he
reconciles the estranged lovers, makes peace between them and Inga's
father, and finally, in the last scene, as his men arrive, is recognized
as the king.

This is, of course, a venerable _coup de theatre_. Whatever novelty
there is in the play must be sought, not in the situations, but in the
pithy and laconic dialogue, which has a distinct national coloring. This
was not the amiable diffuseness of Oehlenschlaeger, who had hitherto
dominated the Norwegian as well as the Danish stage; and yet it did not
by any means represent so complete a breach with the traditions of the
romantic drama as was claimed by Bjoernson's admirers. The fresh
naturalness and absence of declamation were a gain, no doubt; but there
are yet several notes remaining which have the well-known romantic
cadence. "Between the Battles," though too slight to be called an
achievement, was accepted as a pledge of achievement in future.

Bjoernson's next drama "Limping Hulda" ("Halte-Hulda") (1858) was a
partial fulfilment of this pledge. If it is not high tragedy, in the
ancient sense, it is of the stuff that tragedy is made of. Hulda is an
impressive stage figure in her demoniac passion and tiger-like
tenderness. Though I doubt if Bjoernson has, in this type, caught the
soul of a Norse woman of the saga age, he has come much nearer to
catching it than any of his predecessors. If Gudrun Osvif's Daughter, of
the Laxdoela Saga, was his model, he has modernized her considerably,
and thereby made her more intelligible to modern readers. Like her,
Hulda causes the murder of the man she loves; and there is a fateful
spell about her beauty which brings death to whomsoever looks too long
upon it. Though ostensibly a saga-drama, the harshness and grim ferocity
of that sanguinary period are softened; and a romantic illumination
pervades the whole action. A certain lyrical effusiveness in the love
passages (which is alien to all Bjoernson's later works) hints at the
influence of the Danish Romanticists, and particularly Oehlenschlaeger.

It would be unfair, perhaps, to take the author to task because this
youthful drama exhibits no remarkable subtlety in its conception of
character. It contains no really great living figure who stands squarely
upon his feet and lingers in the memory. A certain half-rh