At last he sees the falcon far ahead, and now his flight becomes like
the flash of the lightning for swiftness, and like the rushing of clouds
for uproar. The haggard faces of the gods line the walls of Asgard and
watch the race with tremulous eagerness. Youth and immortality are
staked upon the winning of Loki. He is weary enough and frightened
enough, too, as the eagle sweeps on close behind him; but he makes
desperate efforts to widen the distance between them. Little by little
the eagle gains on the falcon. The gods grow white with fear; they rush
off and prepare great fires upon the walls. With fainting, drooping wing
the falcon passes over and drops exhausted by the wall. In an instant
the fires have been lighted, and the great flames roar to heaven. The
eagle sweeps across the fiery line a second later, and falls, maimed and
burned, to the ground, where a dozen fierce hands smite the life out of
him, and the great giant Thjasse perishes among his foes.
Idun resumes her natural form as Brage rushes to meet her. The gods
crowd round her. She spreads the feast, the golden Apples gleaming with
unspeakable lustre in the eyes of the gods. They eat; and once more
their faces glow with the beauty of immortal youth, their eyes flash
with the radiance of divine power, and, while Idun stands like a star
for beauty among the throng, the song of Brage is heard once more; for
poetry and immortality are wedded again.
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