* * * * *

  “So dwelt we, brethren and father; and Fafnir my brother fared
  As the scourge and compeller of all things, and left no wrong undared;
  But for me, I toiled and I toiled; and fair grew my father’s house;
  But writhen and foul were the hands that had made it glorious;

* * * * *

  “And myself a little fragment amidst it all I saw,
  Grim, cold-hearted, and unmighty as the tempest-driven straw. 
  —­Let be.—­For Otter my brother saw seldom field or fold,
  And he oftenest used that custom, whereof e’en now I told,
  And would shift his shape with the wood-beasts and the things of land and
       sea;
  And he knew what joy their hearts had, and what they longed to be,
  And their dim-eyed understanding, and his wood-craft waxed so great,
  That he seemed the king of the creatures and their very mortal fate.

  “Now as the years won over three folk of the heavenly halls
  Grew aweary of sleepless sloth, and the day that nought befalls;
  And they fain would look on the earth, and their latest handiwork,
  And turn the fine gold over, lest a flaw therein should lurk. 
  And the three were the heart-wise Odin, the Father of the Slain,
  And Loki, the World’s Begrudger, who maketh all labour vain,
  And Hoenir, the Utter-Blameless, who wrought the hope of man,
  And his heart and inmost yearnings, when first the work began;—­”

The three wandered over the earth till they came to a mighty river, haunted for long by Otter, by reason of its great wealth of fish.  There he lay on the bank, and as he watched the fish in the water his shape was changed to that of a true otter, and he began to devour a golden trout.  Two of the gods would have passed without stay, but in the otter Loki saw an enemy, and straightway killed him, rejoicing over his dead body.

As night fell the three gods came to a great hall, wondrously wrought and carved, with golden hangings and forests of pillars.  In the midst of the hall sat a king on an ivory throne, and his garments were made of purple from the sea.  Kind welcome he gave to the wanderers, and there they feasted and delighted in music and song; but even as they drank and made merry they knew they were caught in the snare.

The king’s welcome changed to scornful laughter, and thus he spoke:  “Truly are ye gods, but ye are come to people who want you not.  Before ye were known to us, still was the winter cold, and the summer warm, and still could we find meat and drink.  I am Reidmar, and ye come straight from the slaying of Reidmar’s son.  Shall I not then take the vengeance I will?  Unless, indeed, ye give me the treasure I covet, and then shall ye go your way.  This is my sentence.  Choose ye which ye will.”

Then spake the wise Allfather and prayed Reidmar to unsay his word, and cease to desire the gold.  But Reidmar the Wise, and Fafnir the Lord, and Regin the Worker cried aloud in their wrath:—­