his heavy hammer, Mjolner, he slew Hrungner and the Midgard-serpent, gave Thrym and all that race of giants bloody bridal-gifts in Freyja's garments, and frightened the juggler Loke, of Utgard, who had to resort to his black art for safety. Thus lived the gods in heaven very much like their worshipers on earth, excepting that Idun's apples ever preserved them fresh and youthful.
But Loke, the serpent, was in the midst of them. Frigg's heart was filled with gloomy forebodings in regard to Balder, her beloved son, and her mind could not find rest until all things that could harm him had sworn not to injure Balder. Now they had nothing to fear for the best god, and with perfect abandon and security they themselves made him serve as a mark, and hurled darts, stones and other weapons at him, whom nothing could scathe. But the serpent Loke was more subtle than any one within or without Asgard, whom Fimbultyr had made; and he came to Hoder, the blind god, put the tender mistletoe in his hand and directed his arm, so that Balder sank from the joys of Valhal down into the abodes of pale Hel, and did not return. Loke is bound and tortured, but innocence has departed from Asgard; among men there are bloody wars; brothers slay brothers; sensual sins grow huge; perjury has taken the place of truth. The elements themselves become discordant, and then comes the great Fimbul-winter, with its howling storms and terrible snow, that darkens the air and takes all gladness from the sun.
