“Sooner will I die than put on bridal robes for such a monster,” she declared.
The Strong-One looked at her in surprise. The hammer was so important to him and to them all that he thought any one ought to be willing to do anything to recover it.
“It is likely that you will die if I do not get The Crusher back,” he said at last. “If the giants should invade the sky, I would have nothing to fight them with and they could get the victory over us.”
Freyja answered nothing whatever, but she put back her beautiful shining hair from her beautiful rosy face and looked at him sorrowfully. All at once it occurred to Thor that she was much too lovely to be given to such a wicked old creature. He made only one more very faint attempt.
“I am told for certain that Thrym has got great riches,” he said, “he has a herd of all-black oxen and all his cows have gold horns.”
Then Freyja stamped her foot.
“I would be a love-sick maid indeed if with you I would ride to Jotunheim!” she said severely. And with that she left them and ran into the house—and I am not sure that she did not close the door pretty hard behind her.
Thor scratched his head thoughtfully.
“Much goes worse than is expected,” he said at last. “We will see now what advice my kinsmen have to offer.”
Again he puffed and snorted so that the trees on the earth below were stirred and swayed as by a rushing wind.