Odin! Odin! Asa Odin! Send thy portent, O Allfather! FRIDA Look! look! himself doth come. THE FOLK Fly! fly! Oh, fly! [Pg 39] FRIDA Himself doth come, and with him all the gods! [Amid supernatural darkness and thunder-peal, Ingimund, Thordis, Egil, and Arfi are struck to the earth, and all the people flee, except Yorul and Frida, who crouch beside the temple.] THE FOLK [In the distance.] Bow down! bow down! [Pause; the passing of the storm; silence.] FRIDA [Rising.] Yorul!—You do not speak.
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