But the other gods, feeling that what Frigga had done was quite sufficient, amused themselves with using Baldur as a mark, some hurling darts at him, some stones, while others hewed at him with their swords and battle-axes; for do what they would, none of them could harm him.  And this became a favorite pastime with them and was regarded as an honor shown to Baldur.  But when Loki beheld the scene he was sorely vexed that Baldur was not hurt.  Assuming, therefore, the shape of a woman, he went to Fensalir, the man-sion of Frigga.  That goddess, when she saw the pretended woman, inquired of her if she knew what the gods were doing at their meetings.  She replied that they were throwing darts and stones at Baldur, without being able to hurt him.  “Ay,” said Frigga, “neither stones, nor sticks, nor anything else can hurt Baldur, for I have exacted an oath from all of them.”  “What,” exclaimed the woman, “have all things sworn to spare Baldur?” “All things,” replied Frigga, “except one little shrub that grows on the eastern side of Valhalla, and is called Mistletoe, and which I thought too young and feeble to crave an oath from.”

As soon as Loki heard this he went away, and resuming his natural shape, cut off the mistletoe, and repaired to the place where the gods were assembled.  There he found Hodur standing apart, without partaking of the sports, on account of his blindness, and going up to him, said, “Why dost thou not also throw something at Baldur?”

“Because I am blind,” answered Hodur, “and see not where Baldur is, and have, moreover, nothing to throw.”

“Come, then,” said Loki, “do like the rest, and show honor to Baldur by throwing this twig at him, and I will direct thy arm towards the place where he stands.”

Hodur then took the mistletoe, and under the guidance of Loki, darted it at Baldur, who, pierced through and through, fell down lifeless.  Surely never was there witnessed, either among gods or men, a more atrocious deed than this.  When Baldur fell, the gods were struck speechless with horror, and then they looked at each other, and all were of one mind to lay hands on him who had done the deed, but they were obliged to delay their vengeance out of respect for the sacred place where they were assembled.  They gave vent to their grief by loud lamentations.  When the gods came to themselves, Frigga asked who among them wished to gain all her love and good will.  “For this,” said she, “shall he have who will ride to Hel and offer Hela a ransom if she will let Baldur return to Asgard.”  Whereupon Hermod, surnamed the Nimble, the son of Odin, offered to undertake the journey.  Odin’s horse, Sleipnir, which has eight legs and can outrun the wind, was then led forth, on which Hermod mounted and galloped away on his mission.  For the space of nine days and as many nights he rode through deep glens so dark that he could not discern anything, until he arrived at the river Gyoll, which he passed over on a bridge covered with glittering gold.  The maiden who kept the bridge asked him his name and lineage, telling him that the day before five bands of dead persons had ridden over the bridge, and did not shake it as much as he alone.  “But,” she added, “thou hast not death’s hue on thee; why then ridest thou here on the way to Hel?”