The giant king paused. “Before I leave you, my small friends,” he said, “I must in honesty tell you that the giants admire while they do not yield to the power of the gods. For had it not been for the magic we used, we, and not you, would have been humbled.
“I myself was that giant Skrymir in whose glove you slept. I tied up the wallet with the enchanted rope. It was I whom Thor struck with his unconquerable hammer. Any one of the blows would have killed me had I not each time brought a mountain in between. There in the distance you can see in the peak the three great clefts his hammer made.
“Yesterday Loki could not win his eating wager. But it was because he was matched against Logi who is none other than Fire itself, which could devour meat, bones, trough and all. Thialfi lost his race. But we giants marveled at his speed, for he ran against Hugi who is Thought, the swiftest thing in the world.
“When Thor drank, then indeed we wondered; for his drinking-horn was connected with the ocean, and his great draughts made the waters ebb from shore to shore. My cat which he tried to lift was none other than the terrible serpent which lies around the world with its tail in its mouth. When Thor tugged, he lifted it up till its back arched against the sky, and it seemed likely to slip altogether out of the sea.
“When he wrestled with my nurse Elli, we saw the greatest marvel of all. For she is Old Age, whom no one has ever withstood.
“But strong as you are, do not boast again, my tiny gods. For remember, the giants’ magic is as great as the giants themselves, and can never be conquered.”
Overcome with rage, Thor raised his hammer to shatter the giant and his palace forever. But a sudden mist blinded his eyes. When it cleared, he found himself, with Loki and Thialfi, alone on a wide moor glowing in the sunrise.
—From a Norse myth.
