You are mad, Loki, out of your mind, angering Gefion, for she knows all the fates of the ages as well as I do. And if I gave victory to the worst whom I should not, you spent eight winters in the underworld, a milker of cows, a woman, and there you bore children, offspring of evil. I call cause to name you wretch. You are said on earth to have used seery, to have cheated in sibyl's wisdom, and walked the world in a sorcerer's guise. You should not talk of your doings in adolescent years, what you two Aesir practiced in the foretime.
Folks forget old grudges.
Quiet, Frigg, you are Fjorgyn's maid and have ever sought dalliance, as when you, Vidrer's woman, clasped both Vile and Vi to your bosom. Had I a son such as Balder here in Ager's hall you would not escape the sons of the Aesir without being badly beaten. I shall work it so that you shall not again see Balder riding to the halls. Shut up, Freya, I know you well. Your tongue is false and I believe it will babble you evil and ills in the future.