Whoever approaches her with impure heart, she sprinkles with water, and instantly he turns into a fir tree.
"Es stehen der Tannen gar viele
In ihres Bades Näh,
Es hat sie alle verzaubert
Die keusche Wasserfee!"
"And many a fir tree's deepest shade
Falls o'er the crystal stream;
Enchanted by the pure mermaid,
Their fate to moan they seem."
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."