The Smith answered her gently, politely, as men should always answer women: “Have I not forged the Sampo for you—the wondrous Sampo which you so much desired? Have I not hammered its lid of rainbow colors? Have I not made you rich—rich in flour, in salt, in silver and gold? I am now waiting only for my reward—for the prize which you promised.”
“Never have I promised you any reward,” cried the Mistress angrily. “Never have I offered to give you a prize;” and her gaunt form and gruesome features seemed truly terrible in their ugliness.
But Ilmarinen did not forget himself; the master of magic did not falter. [[95]]
“I have a friend whose name is Wainamoinen,” he answered. “He is the first of all minstrels, a singer of sweet songs, a man of honor, old and truthful. Did you not say to him that you would richly reward the hero who should forge the magic Sampo—that you would give him your daughter, the Maid of Beauty, to be his wife?”
“Ah, but that was said to him and not to you,” said the Mistress, and she laughed until her toothless mouth seemed to cover the whole of her misshapen face.
“But a promise is a promise,” gently returned the Smith; “and so I demand of you to fulfil it.”
The features of the unlovely Mistress softened, they lost somewhat of their grimness as she answered: “Willingly would I fulfil it, prince of wizards and of smiths; but I cannot. Since Wainamoinen’s visit, the Maid of Beauty has become of age. She is her own mistress, she must speak for herself. I cannot give her away as a reward or prize—she does not belong to me. If you wish her to go to the Land of Heroes with you, ask her. She has a mind of her own; she will do as she pleases.” [[96]]
She ceased speaking. The firelight grew brighter and then suddenly died away, and the room became dark.
“I will see her in the morning,” said Ilmarinen. [[97]]