The Death of Balder | Page 5

in yonder vestments?
HOTHER. I fear? thou warlock! Wise thou wert in speaking Of friendship!
LOKE. Spare thy wrath my youthful warrior! Reserve it for thy foes!
HOTHER. They shall not miss it!
LOKE. And yet 'tis plain thou hidest thee from some one.
HOTHER. It was Nanna bade me. Ha! I blush by heaven! When Nanna spake I always blindly listen'd. She has disguised me, as thou see'st, stranger; She plagues me with her fears; the dreamer would not-- Would really not--for all the wide world's riches, That the wood goblin, or perhaps some lover Invisible, should know me.
LOKE. Pretty folly! Balder invisible! the handsome half-god!
HOTHER. What! Balder, son of Odin? He her lover? O heaven! Say, where is he? where?
LOKE. With Nanna.
HOTHER. There? Now? (After some refection.) She drove me out.
LOKE. Perhaps, thou see'st That she has rid herself of thee by cunning.
HOTHER. I simply thought the Alf had caus'd thy terror; But Balder, false one, he shall soon experience That I fear no one. [About to go.
LOKE. Softly, prince! be cautious! I see thy courage; but thy foe is mighty.
HOTHER. Is my arm weak?
LOKE. It is against a half-god; Yet he can die. I know a spear which slayeth.
HOTHER. Thou dreamest!
LOKE. Spare thy doubts. That spear or nothing Can wound his breast.--But see, the sun is rising, And I must fly to subterranean places; But I'll forsake thee not. This horn I give thee, And when thy need is greatest, then, O Hother! Blow strongly in that horn, and turning westward, Call thrice aloud on Vanfred--Vanfred! Vanfred!
[The two last times he cries it with a hollow voice, after having disappeared among the rocks, and the last time of all evidently farther away than the other. Immediately thereupon a noise is heard among the rocks, as of distant thunder.
HOTHER, and presently NANNA.
HOTHER (casts away the horn). Accurs'd be thou, thy horn, and all thy magic! Is Hother fearful? Does he crave in battle The aid of warlocks and of arts ignoble? Is not my arm sufficient? Ha! I'll show thee!
[He is going; but NANNA meets him at the entrance of the scene.
NANNA. Where now?
HOTHER. I go to dare the wrath of Balder.
NANNA (affrighted). Ah!
HOTHER. His stern look may teach me how to tremble.
NANNA. O Heaven!
HOTHER. Hold me not!
NANNA (anxiously and affectionately). Where now, my Hother?
HOTHER. I soon shall find him!
[He goes in spite of NANNA'S endeavour to detain him.
NANNA. Ah! he goes--he rages; And Balder yells with wrath. Some serpent surely Has breath'd to-day his poison in their bosoms. They hate, they seek each other! Who asunder Will hold the raging bears. Ah! who will soften The foaming ones? I have this hour expected, And long by art have I delay'd its coming; But now is art, and prayer, and all else useless: E'en now they meet in conflict. I am powerless! What can my tears avail? Alas! blood only Will satiate them and Heaven: thine must trickle, My Hother. What art thou against a half-god? When thy fire, Ourath, but glimmers, Tears can quench it instantly; But it flames, and now 'twere wonder Could the weak drops keep it under. Ah! thy blazes fierce and cruel In the lov'd one's grief find fuel, And are fann'd by plaintive cry. Tear, with which mine eye is swelling, Thou canst not remove the ill; O keep in thou fruitless wailing, Let my bosom hide thee still. [She goes.

ACT THE SECOND.
The three VALKRIER. They are armed as war-maids, and besides the spears which hang over their shoulders, each has a short spear in her hand: they take each other by the hands, and walk in a circle, singing.
ALL THREE. O'er the hill, o'er the dell, O'er the sea's foamy waters, Unweariedly ply, Valhalla, thy daughters, The blood-dropping wing: Die, battle, and die! Is the bidding they bring.
THE FIRST. Not fever's foul pains.
THE SECOND. Not hunger.
THE THIRD. Not chains.
ALL THREE. But fight and delight. For the brave ever brings, Valhalla, thy daughters, By light and by night, O'er the land and the waters, With blood-drooping wing.
THE FIRST. The crash of the spear, In deadly career, Is alone to me dear.
THE SECOND. The feeble moan press'd From the dying man's breast Is what pleases me best.
THE THIRD. The cry on the plain Round the corse of the slain I list to most pain.
ALL THREE. Die, battle, and die! O'er the hill, o'er the dell, O'er the sea's foamy waters, Unweariedly ply, Valhalla, thy daughters, The blood-dropping wing: Die, battle, and die, Is the bidding they bring.
THE FIRST. I hear the sound of arms; but now it ceases. How long will he delay, the noble warrior?
THE SECOND. Whom wait'st thou for?
THE FIRST. And thou? what will my sister In this wild spot which blood has never crimson'd?
THE SECOND. What has assembled us? and here where scarcely A sword