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Nymph, smiling and lovely, her shimmering green
dress undamaged, her hair unsinged!
She was as when he had first seen her that day
in Karlstad; the tail showed between her dainty
feet, and about her clung the spirit and odors of
the wildwood.
“Ekeby is burning,” she laughed.
Kevenhüller caught up a hammer to hurl at her,
when he saw that she held his wheel in her hand.
“See what I have saved for you,” she said.
The inventor fell on his knees before her.
“You have ruined my life,” he cried. “It was
you wrecked my carriage and destroyed my wings.
Have pity on me now!”
“I see that you know who I am,” said she.
“I have always known you,” wailed the poor
wretch; “you are Genius. Take back your gift and
set me free! Why do you persecute me?”
“Fool!” answered the Wood Nymph, “I have
never wished you harm. I gave you a great award,
but if it does not please you, I can take it back.
Only think well lest you should regret it later.”
“No, no,” he said; “take from me the magic
power of working wonders!”
“First you must destroy this,” she told him,
throwing the wheel on the floor.
Instantly he swung his hammer and struck the
glowing wheel, which to him was but a witch’s tool
and of no use to the world. Sparks flew, and flames
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