We fled the village, me and my sweetheart, but first I said, “Take the witch’s magic wand!”
It’s a good thing she did, because the witch soon came after us in her seven league boots. I turned myself into a lake, and my sweetheart turned into a duck. The witch went home, and we carried on through the night. At daybreak, she came after us again. This time, my dear girl turned herself into a flower in a briar patch. I became a fiddler. When the witch arrived, she said, “Dear musician, may I pluck that beautiful flower for myself?”
“Oh yes,” I said. She stepped into the briars to reach for the flower. I began to play and she was forced to dance. The faster I played, the faster she danced, and the thorns pricked her and pierced her until she bled to death!