The Sun was deeply offended; his eyes glowed with anger, and he departed in a rage.
At last the Youth of the Stars made his appearance, driving with a similar cortège to those who had preceded him.
As soon as Salme heard of his arrival, she cried out that his horse was to be led into the stable and tended with the utmost care. The horse must have the best provender, and must be given fine linen to rest on and be covered with silken cloths; his head was to rest on satin, and his hoofs on soft hay. After this she declared to his master:
"Him I will accept as lover,
Give the Star my hand in marriage,
And will prove his faithful consort.
Gently shine his eyes of starlight,
And his temper alters nothing.
Never can he thwart the sowing,
Never will destroy the harvest."
Having thus accepted her suitor and provided for the comfort of his horse, Salme ordered the bridegroom to be ushered into the hall, where the broad table was washed clean and covered with a new tablecloth. The Star was to be seated with his back to the wall and his feet comfortably propped up on the bench, while he was to be feasted on the best meat and fish, and offered wedding-cake and honey, besides beer and sweet mead. The widow invited the Star to take his place at the table, and pressed him to eat and drink, but he was greatly excited, and his weapons, ornaments, and heavy spurs jingled and clanked as he stamped on the floor, and declared that he would eat nothing till Salme herself appeared before him. But Salme asked him to wait awhile while she adorned herself, and asked her sister Linda to fetch her woollen dress and her silken shift with gold-embroidered sleeves, her stockings with the pretty garters, and the brightly coloured and gold-worked kerchiefs of silk and linen.
Meantime, the widow again invited the Star to eat and drink, or, if he were tired, to sleep; but he declared, as before, that he would neither eat nor drink till he had seen Salme, and that the stars never closed their eyes in sleep.
At last Salme herself appeared in the hall, but the Meadow-Queen [18] and the wood nymphs had so adorned her that her foster-mother did not know her again, and asked in astonishment, "Is it the moon, [19] or the sun, or one of the young daughters of the sunset?"
Guests gathered to the wedding from far and near, and even the oaks and alders came, roots, branches, and all.
After this they danced the cross-dance, [20]
Waltzed the waltzes of Esthonia,
And they danced the Arju [21] dances,
And the dances of the West Land;
And they danced upon the gravel,
And they trampled all the greensward.
Starry youth and maiden Salme,
Thus their nuptials held in rapture.
In the midst of these joyous festivities, the Moon and then the Sun returned in greater state than before to seek the hand of Linda, who was resting on a couch in the bathroom; but she also refused them both, almost in the same terms as her sister had done; and they retired sorrowfully.