All the Gods fell to talking among themselves. Freïa pleaded with Wotan, and Wotan reflected: the word "gold" made even the Gods tremble with pleasure. Why should Wotan not have the treasure for himself?
"Well, answer us!" Fafner shouted, making a motion to take the Goddess and flee. Fricka and Freïa shrieked with fright. "What is the secret of this ring?" Fafner asked again.
"That whoever shall make a ring out of the Rheingold shall rule the universe. Alberich has already forsworn love, and is already having the ring made."
"We shall take the Goddess Freïa," Fafner cried, "and give ye till evening to decide among yourselves. If ye have not the gold by that time the Goddess is ours forever." So saying he leaped toward Freïa, grasped her and fled over mountain and valley, while the Goddess Fricka cried out wildly, and Freïa echoed her shrieks. All looked anxiously toward Wotan.
"How darkly Wotan broods," Loge thought, while a great gloom settled upon all. A pale mist gradually enfolded all the Gods, as they stood uncertain and troubled. Until that moment they had appeared young and handsome, but now they looked at each other in fright.
"What aileth thee?" each asked of the other. "Do the mists trick us?" Each stared at the other in horror, because all were growing old, suddenly.
"My hammer drops from my hand," Donner muttered, weakly.
"My heart stands still," Froh sighed faintly.
"Ah! Know ye not the fate that has overtaken you?" cried Loge. "Ye have not to-day eaten of Freïa's magic apples; the Apples of Life. Without them ye must grow old and die, ye well know. Without Freïa to tend the fruit, it must wither."
Reminded of what they had forgotten, the Gods started up in terror.