The cantata opens with an animated instrumental introduction, "Frithjof's Return," leading to the barytone recitative and aria ("How bravely o'er the Flood so bright"),--a very expressive song, interspersed with the tender, graceful chorus of his companions ("O, 'tis Delight when the Land far appeareth"). The second scene is preluded with a wedding march, whose blithe measures are in marked contrast with the bridal chorus ("Sadly the Skald walks before the Train"), and Ingeborg's song ("My Heart with Sorrow overflowing"), which describes her grief over her unhappy destiny. The third scene ("Frithjof's Revenge"), for barytone, chorus, and orchestra, is one of great power in its dramatic and descriptive character, as well as in its masterly instrumentation. It begins with a chorus of priests ("Midnight Sun on the Mountain burns"), gradually accelerating until it is interrupted by Frithjof's cry ("Go to Helas' dark Abode"). Three bars of chorus intervene ("Woe! O wicked Deed"), when Frithjof, after a short recitative, sings a spirited aria ("Where my Father rests"). At its close, as he rescues Ingeborg's ring and fires the temple, the chorus resumes ("Woe! he tugs with all his Might at the Ring"). The choral finale of this scene, with its effective instrumentation, is a masterpiece of dramatic music, worthy to rank with the highest work of its kind in opera. After the storm, the calm. In that calm occurs a melodical episode of an extraordinary character. The melody itself is so unlike anything which precedes or follows it that it must have been interpolated. In grateful contrast with the revenge of Frithjof, the burning of the temple, and the curses of the infuriated priests, comes the fourth scene, "Frithjof's Departure from the Northland,"--a solo quartet for male voices ("Sun in the Sky now mounteth high"), of exquisite harmony, leading up to and accompanying a barytone solo which has rarely been surpassed in the tender beauty of its melody or the majestic sonority of its style:[19]-- "World's grandest region, thou mighty North! From thy dominions I am driven forth; Within thy border I lov'd to dwell; Midsummer sun, farewell, farewell. Thou mighty North, farewell. My love is foiled, my roof-tree rent, Mine honor soiled, I in exile sent! Cheerless is my soul within me, Hopeless I must bear my lot. Ye rugged mountains, where heroes dwell, And Thor commandeth clouds and winds; Ye azure lakes, that I love so well, Ye woods and brakes, farewell."