“I know you do,” said Foamina again; “but you’ll never kiss her—even if you did it would be no good. I plunged her into that magic sleep by my enchantments, and she’ll never awaken until you promise to marry me.”
“Oh, I’ll never do that!” exclaimed Duldy.
“Very well; then she’ll sleep on for ever,” said the Water-witch, laughing cruelly, while the air round her grew bitterly cold, and the yellow locks of her hair and the blue folds of her robe seemed to undulate over her lovely form like waves of water.
“Then, as you won’t let me leave the forest, I suppose I must stay here,” said Duldy in despair.
“Yes, unless you promise to marry me,” replied Foamina tenderly.
“In that case I’ll remain here for ever,” cried Duldy angrily; “and as it’s so cold, I’ll light a fire.”
“No, don’t do that,” said the Water-witch, shivering; “I don’t like fire,—a cruel, hot thing which burns me up.”
“I don’t care,” retorted Duldy, beginning to collect sticks for his fire; “I’m not going to perish with cold for your sake, especially when I don’t love you.”
“I’ll put your fire out,” cried Foamina in a rage.
“Oh no, you won’t,” replied Duldy coolly; “I won’t let you. Besides, I can talk to you much more comfortably when I’m warm.”