FRIDA Look! look! himself doth come.

THE FOLK Fly! fly! Oh, fly!

FRIDA Himself doth come, and with him all the gods!

[Amid supernatural darkness and thunder-peal, Ingimund, Thordis, Egil, and Arfi are struck to the earth, and all the people flee, except Yorul and Frida, who crouch beside the temple.]

THE FOLK [In the distance.] Bow down! bow down! [Pause; the passing of the storm; silence.]

FRIDA [Rising.] Yorul!—You do not speak. Yorul!

YORUL O Frida, hush!

FRIDA And did you see them? Four were they all together, and they passed Like fire, and four returned, in robes of flame, But paler.

YORUL May be so; I saw them not.

FRIDA Two others stood on Odin’s stone, and one Laughed loud, and whirled a whip of blazing brass, And one thrust through his beard a smoking hammer.