Next day she came alone to the tower. She found him pointing north and looking away from her, for the vow had gripped him again like the frosts of winter. But she spoke softly and said, "Beloved, the spring is here."
Then the south wind came, and against his will he veered and looked at her. She came close to his golden horse and touched the arm that held the bow. "You drew me to you, and now you do not look at me," she said.
"I am afraid to look at you," he replied and dropped his golden eyelids.
"Yet you are not afraid to gaze into the sky," she ventured.
"Out of the sky will come nothing to harm me," he answered.
"Could I harm you, soul of my soul?" she cried.
"You could make me love you," was his answer.
So they were quiet for a while. She watched the sea-birds circle about his shining horse which seemed ever ready to plunge from the cathedral tower into the spaces of the air, yet remained always the toy of the winds. She listened to the hoarse voices of the huge bells that swung beneath her.
At last she rose and unbound her hair so that it floated like a golden banner in the wind. "Come," she whispered.
Then the Golden Archer felt all the pain of those who must turn away from the voice of love. His eyes looked towards the sunset, but his heart seemed drowning in a strange, sweet, throbbing darkness. "Come nearer," he whispered.