NANNA. Oh! what is remaining?
HOTHER. My valour’s proud story.
NANNA. Mere grief and complaining!
HOTHER. My name is thy glory.
NANNA. Oh! if thou now fallest.
HOTHER. And if I now fall,
NANNA. Then I shall be wasted
With grief and complaining!
HOTHER. My name is remaining;
But honour once blasted
We both should lose all.
BOTH. The slave only feareth,
The hero can fall;
But then his fame cheereth
His bride in her thrall.
NANNA (with a terrified look, she seizes HOTHER by the arm, upon perceiving BALDER). Ah! Hother, come.