“The god now became elated at the near prospect of measuring himself with the serpent, and gave full liberty to his thoughts. If he could succeed in slaying it,
‘By Yggdrasil[[79]], the feat
Would glad me more, by far,
In Valhall than to beat
Ten score Einheriar.
What fruitful seeds of ill
To mar man’s mortal state,
And earth with woes to fill,
From the worm emanate!
His pestilential breath