From hatching some vile scheme accurst.
But come, I’ll put an end full soon
To all thy schemes of treach’ry fell;
To Utgard’s shades I’ll cast thee down,
And bind thee fast with chains of Hel.
LOK.
I tremble not; I turn not pale;
Thou hast not got thy Miölner now;
Thy genuine hammer lies, we know,
Buried beneath the serpent’s scale.