The wolf is no better off, biding in fetters till the end of the ages. Shut up, Tyr. I see the wolf lying at the river's mouth till the rulers' reign shall be rent. Beside him shall you also be chained if you cease not now, schemer. You tattle in Frey's ear and tread the mill.
Overindulgence causes both young and old to lose control of their tongues.
Shut up, Heimdal. In the morning of days you were ill-fated to be ever splashed on the back, watcher for the gods. If first and last you were in the tumult when Tjasse gave his life, then from my sanctuaries, my sacred groves, shall you meager counsel gain. Hail thee, Loki, take this cup filled with mellow mead, and may I alone of Aesir's children be held free from faults. Loki took the horn and drank.