'If that is love,' she cried joyously, 'I shall indeed never die! But that is not how men love me?' she added.
'No,' he said; 'their love for you must be some strange and enslaving passion, since they will submit to death if only they may hear your voice. That is not true love, but a fatal madness.'
'But if mortals feel love for one another,' she asked,'they must die, must they not?'
'The love of a man for a maiden who is gentle and good does not kill—even when it is most hopeless,' he said; 'and where she feels it in return, it is well for both, for their lives will flow on together in peace and happiness.'
He had spoken softly, with a far away look in his eyes that did not escape the siren.
'And you love one of your mortal maidens like that?' she asked. 'Is she more beautiful than I am?'
'She is mortal,' he said, 'but she is fair and gracious, my maiden; and it is she who has my love, and will have it while I live.'
'And yet,' she said, with a mocking smile, 'I could make you forget her.'
Her childlike waywardness had left her as she spoke the words, and a dangerous fire was shining in her deep eyes.
'Never!' he cried; 'even you cannot make me false to my love! And yet,' he added quickly, 'I dare not challenge you, enchantress that you are; what is my will against your power?'