Well have I succeeded In doing my errand; Thrym has thy hammer, The king of the giants. No man Brings it back Unless he gives him Freyja as bride. Went they then the fair Freyja to find, First then Thor Thus addressed her: Dress thyself, Freyja, In bridal robes, Together we will ride To Jotunheim. Angry grew Freyja, And she raged So the hall of the asas Must shake. Her heavy necklace, Brisingamen, broke; Then would I be A lovesick maid If with thee I would ride To Jotunheim. Then all the asas Went to the _Thing_, To the _Thing_ went All the asynjes, The powerful divinities, And held consult, How they should get The hammer back. Then spake Heimdal The whitest god— Foreknowing was he, As the vans are all: Dress we Thor In bridal robes, Brisingamen Must he wear. Let jingle keys About his waist; Let a woman’s dress Cover his knees; On his bosom we put Broad broaches, And artfully we His hair braid. Spoke then Thor, The mighty god: Mock me all The asas would, If in bridal robes I should be dressed. Spoke then Loke Laufeyarson: Be silent Thor; Stop such talk. Soon will giants Build in Asgard If thou thy hammer Bring not back.