“Here I am, my master,” it said. “Send me forth to do your bidding.”
“What good thing can you do?” asked Ilmarinen.
“I can turn things over, tear things up,” answered the plough. “Nothing in the fields can stand against me. I will overturn the sod, I will uproot all growing things whether good or bad. I will go into gardens, meadows, cornfields, and stir the soil; and woe to the plant that comes in my way, for I will destroy it.”
“You are beautiful and you are useful,” said the Smith; “but you are rude and unkind. You do not know how to discriminate between the evil and the good. You give pain, you cause death, and therefore I do not love you.”
He waited not for the plough’s answer, but [[85]]struck it with his hammer and broke it into a thousand fragments; then he threw the fragments back into the magic caldron and closed the door of the furnace.
Long and thoughtfully he sat, silent but not despairing. His elbows rested upon his knees, his head was bowed upon his hands. And he repeated to himself his favorite saying: “None but cowards say, ‘I cannot,’ none but weaklings say, ‘Impossible,’ none but women weep for failure.”
At length he rose and called to his serving-men; he dismissed them, every one, and summoned the winds to come and be his helpers. [[86]]