O pain! Why dost thou look upon me so? FENRIS Fair art, Freyja; shalt Fenris fear not? FREYJA What wouldst thou? FENRIS Lithe thy limbs are; lief am to lie with thee. FREYJA Are these snows thy dwelling-place? No flowers grow here. Take these. [Freyja lets fall some of her flowers into the crater.] FENRIS [Tearing them, as the Pack yells.] Anarch! anarch! [Pg 17] FREYJA [Drawing back.] Alas! BALDUR Peace, brother!
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