HOTHER. Now, now! is all a dream? Yet, I’ve the weapon!
How welcome death! my noble foe no longer
Shall hide thee from me, nor of thee deprive me;
Now can I keep what I have sworn! O Nanna!
I bring a noble offering to thy virtue!
[He is going, but LOKE meets him at the entrance.
LOKE. Whither? thou Fortune’s fav’rite!
HOTHER (sharply). Ha! to Hælheim.
LOKE. Hother, I scoff thy wise determination.
HOTHER (incensed). Thou scoffest?
LOKE. Yes, thou holdest thy foeman’s life,
And thou wilt die.
HOTHER. What foeman’s?
LOKE. Whose, if not Balder’s?
HOTHER. Ah, my life he gave me!
And though I hold the gift in little value,
I took it still. And shall his lofty spirit
His downfall prove? Shall I, shall Hother punish
The pity I craved not?