FENRIS Anarch! anarch! anarch! Father, free me!
ODIN Free thee, thou poor antagonist. Knowest thou Not yet why thou art chained? Retarded thing, Emancipate thyself! What might it avail Though Odin burst these links and loosed thee?—Thou Thyself art thine own bondage and thy pain.
THE PACK Ulfr! Ulfr!
FENRIS Anarch! anarch! Ulfr!
ODIN Yet could’st thou show some genesis of good, Some spring of growth. Hadst thou, in all these ages, Waxed toward my stature imperceptibly Even as the seed, that germinates in darkness, Feels toward the sky; yea, hadst thou now one pale Potential spark of godhood, nobler desire, Evolving intellect, one lineal trait To prove that upward through thy brutish heart Yearns infinite Reason, even now, poor son, Would I strike off these fetters, set thee free, Thee and thy pack, and put my hope in time.
THE PACK Heil! Heil, Othinn!
FENRIS Fenris! Free him.
ODIN But lo! instead, what art thou? Ye faint stars, Before you close your eyes in day, once more Behold him! Ye icy craters and hoar caves, Thou solitary dawn, eternal sky, Perennial snows—you timeless presences, Behold your consummation: this, even this, Is Odin’s elder son, creation’s heir!
FENRIS Anarch! anarch! anarch! anarch! anarch!
[Odin, covering his face, turns away and disappears behind the crag. Fenris, with his pack, retires into the cavern, dragging his chain. Outside Baldur is heard singing, joined, in chorus, by the voices of nature on whom he calls.]