Over the whole surface of the mirror there was then a dark waving and heaving, like that of a stormy sea, as if its creations, rashly looked upon, ere they were perfect, shunned the light, and, therefore, were contorted in frightful indeterminate shapes. Thereupon Bertha wished to draw the curtain over it; but as she was about to touch it with her trembling hand, the forms which it presented began to whirl in circles with such vehemence, that she was terrified, and remained motionless. At last there came forward the figure of a man, pale and agitated, and with the expression of wild anger on his features. Unwillingly Bertha recognised in this figure her brother Heerdegen. On his head was placed somewhat like golden vulture’s wings, and she knew not whether he wore a helmet in this fashion, or if it were indeed a vulture, whose attacks had thus made him pale and enraged. While she reflected on this, a female figure, wounded and bleeding, made its appearance, and looking on it but for a moment, Bertha screamed aloud, “Have mercy, Heaven!” for she recognised that the features were her own. Terrified by this phantom, and even by the sound of her own voice, she rushed out of the chamber into the hall, in which hung the golden rings. They were now silent and motionless, as if held by invisible bands, and at this time, above all others, Bertha would have rejoiced in the slightest sounds of their former music; for it seemed to her disordered fantasy, as if the fearful shapes in the mirror had started out into real life; that they were moving through the apartment which she had left with rustling garments and sounding steps. How glad would she have been, therefore, if the magic rings, the harps, and cymbals, had overpowered those fearful sounds, and the terror by which her heart was now oppressed! Then she, indeed, remembered the lady’s instructions, that by a few notes on her lute she was to obtain whatever she wished for in this enchanted castle. But, alas! her voice was rendered powerless by fear, and in order to obtain her lute, she must have passed again through the frightful apartment with the mirror. Horror deprived her of all self-possession; so that, as if supernaturally compelled, she touched one of the golden rings;--immediately they all began to move and to sound aloud; but, alas! not in harmonious music. Their tones were like an awful mixture of thunder and tempestuous winds, or hoarse roaring as of wild beasts,--then there was the clashing of swords as in battle, and at intervals arose lamentable moanings, as of the wounded and dying. At length the rings began to turn in furious haste; the noises were more and more hideous, accompanied too by yells of unearthly fiendish laughter; so that Bertha was attacked by fearful giddiness, and could scarcely support herself. There was then a loud knocking at the door, which communicated with the chamber of the mirror. Bertha thought she could not refrain from calling out, “Who is there?” And