A Dream under Princes Ilse's Firs.
It was during the heat of August, when my friend Josephine and I sat long chatting on a moss-grown stone under Princess Ilse's dark evergreens.
Finally she went to gather some ferns and wild-flowers, and I fell asleep.
Then I heard a deep voice above me say, "I am Castiglione the magician. I approached the Princess Ilse with the guilt of falsehood on my soul, and she transformed me into the fir against which you are leaning. If she would only break the enchantment, and set me free, I would lead an honest, truthful life. Plead with her to release me."
"How can I do that?" I asked. "I never expect to see the Princess."
"Oh yes, you will. You will see her to-day."
Another voice joined in—"I am Booth, of Lincoln renown. People never knew what became of me. I came here to the Harz mountains, hoping to find favour with the noble Ilse after my heroic deed in freeing my country from a tyrant; but the Princess called my act murder, and I have been a sighing fir tree ever since."
"And you deserve it," cried Castiglione.
"Pull the beam out of your own eye, please," replied the infuriated Booth. "You dare to reproach me, you, who did not hesitate to add the last drop of an infant's blood to make your elixir of life? What insolence!"
I felt sure they would come to blows right over my head. Happily a melodious voice struck in, and interrupted the quarrel.
"I am Don Carlos, the unhappy son of Philip of Spain, and the victim of priestly bigotry. The Inquisitors gained my royal father's permission to make away with me, a son who loved him truly.
"I escaped, and History does not tell what became of me, simply because she does not know. I fled here to Princess Ilse for refuge, but I approached her at an unfavourable moment, and she transformed me into this spruce. If I could only be set free I would carry out my ideas of freedom."
"You are too late, my young friend," cried Castiglione. "Your ideas have been carried out. You don't seem to have kept up with the history of events. Bismarck has set the Germans free, and cleansed the moral atmosphere of the whole empire, sent the Jesuits adrift, and put a bayonet into the hands of every eighty men in a hundred to keep them out."
Here a deep sigh was heard.
"Oh, I am tired with standing so long! Walking isn't half so fatiguing. Oh, how my back aches!"
"Who are you?" cried Castiglione.
"I am the Wandering Jew. They keep up the story of my wanderings, but I have stood here in this tree for ages, shivering or roasting."
I felt quite bewildered, and almost afraid in the midst of this odd Gesellschaft, and shuddered as I thought more dreadful additions would speedily be made to it.
Suddenly a radiant form stood before me. Such beauty no mortal eye ever beheld outside of a dream. It was the Princess Ilse. Her long golden curls fell nearly to her feet, over a silvery-like robe almost transparent.
Her eyes were deep violet with an expression none could describe.
Above her milk-white regal brow glittered a diadem of brilliants and sapphires. Bracelets and rings of diamonds and pearls adorned her fair arms.
Extending her swan-white hand, with a ravishing smile, she said, "Come, I will show thee my home, my palace, and thou shalt dine with me."
We entered the Ilsenstein under a gigantic arch of mountain crystal; a group of white-robed maidens met us, and attended us to the great throne-room.
This was an immense chamber, lighted by a chandelier of brilliants hung in the centre, and single lamp-shaped rubies and carbuncles hung along the sides and in the corners.
The floor was of white and red roses, which were not crushed by the tread, but remained ever in rich fulness.
On each side of this regal chamber were sixteen colossal Norman arches, through which one saw, on the right advancing up it, a garden of every sort of fruit-tree, all bearing ripe fruits.
At the left, flowers of every clime. Fountains played, white-robed maidens moved among the fruit and flowers, or reclined on banks of violets and roses.
Soft music floated around us. Between each arch was a seat. Every seat was a bank of flowers, each different from the other.
Above each seat was a statue of a fairy of the Harz, alternately in mountain crystal and snowy alabaster.
At the upper end, under a majestic arch, stood Princess Ilse's throne.
The throne was one ruby, the canopy a single pearl, the steps leading up to the throne were emeralds.
Near the throne, in front of an arch, stood a table of silver, and two chairs of mountain crystal beside it.
The service was of gold, filled with the viands of the fairy world, and the choicest fruits and flowers.
A group of fair maidens sat in a rose arbour playing harp, lute, and harpsichord, while others stood by the table in attendance.
A pearl plate was handed us, and Princess Ilse herself poured the crimson wine into gilded crystal goblets bearing her monogram in diamonds and sapphires, touched her glass to mine, and saying, "I drink to thy happiness," she pressed her own glass to my lips, when lo! I awoke, and there stood Josephine, poking a fern in my face.
"Oh, Josie!" I exclaimed, "you can never know of how much you have robbed me with that stupid fern!"