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Far out in the
ocean, where the water is as blue as the prettiest cornflower, and as clear
as crystal, it is very, very deep; so deep, indeed, that no cable could
fathom it: many church steeples, piled one upon another, would not reach
from the ground beneath to the surface of the water above. There dwell
the Sea King and his subjects. We must not imagine that there is nothing
at the bottom of the sea but bare yellow sand. No, indeed; the most singular
flowers and plants grow there; the leaves and stems of which are so pliant,
that the slightest agitation of the water causes them to stir as if they
had life. Fishes, both large and small, glide between the branches, as
birds fly among the trees here upon land. In the deepest spot of all, stands
the castle of the Sea King. Its walls are built of coral, and the long,
gothic windows are of the clearest amber. The roof is formed of shells,
that open and close as the water flows over them. Their appearance is very
beautiful, for in each lies a glittering pearl, which would be fit for
the diadem of a queen. princesses, her grand-daughters. They were six beautiful
children; but the youngest was the prettiest of them all; her skin was
as clear and delicate as a rose-leaf, and her eyes as blue as the deepest
sea; but, like all the others, she had no feet, and her body ended in a
fish's tail. All day long they played in the great halls of the castle,
or among the living flowers that grew out of the walls. The large amber
windows were open, and the fish swam in, just as the swallows fly into
our houses when we open the windows, excepting that the fishes swam up
to the princesses, ate out of their hands, and allowed themselves to be
stroked. Outside the castle there was a beautiful garden, in which grew
bright red and dark blue flowers, and blossoms like flames of fire; the
fruit glittered like gold, and the leaves and stems waved to and fro continually.
The earth itself was the finest sand, but blue as the flame of burning
sulphur. Over everything lay a peculiar blue radiance, as if it were surrounded
by the air from above, through which the blue sky shone, instead of the
dark depths of the sea. In calm weather the sun could be seen, looking
like a purple flower, with the light streaming from the calyx. Each of
the young princesses had a little plot of ground in the garden, where she
might dig and plant as she pleased. One arranged her flower-bed into the
form of a whale; another thought it better to make hers like the figure
of a little mermaid; but that of the youngest was round like the sun, and
contained flowers as red as his rays at sunset. She was a strange child,
quiet and thoughtful; and while her sisters would be delighted with the
wonderful things which they obtained from the wrecks of vessels, she cared
for nothing but her pretty red flowers, like the sun, excepting a beautiful
marble statue. It was the representation of a handsome boy, carved out
of pure white stone, which had fallen to the bottom of the sea from a wreck.
She planted by the statue a rose-colored weeping willow. It grew splendidly,
and very soon hung its fresh branches over the statue, almost down to the
blue sands. The shadow had a violet tint, and waved to and fro like the
branches; it seemed as if the crown of the tree and the root were at play,
and trying to kiss each other. Nothing gave her so much pleasure as to
hear about the world above the sea. She made her old grandmother tell her
all she knew of the ships and of the towns, the people and the animals.
To her it seemed most wonderful and beautiful to hear that the flowers
of the land should have fragrance, and not those below the sea; that the
trees of the forest should be green; and that the fishes among the trees
could sing so sweetly, that it was quite a pleasure to hear them. Her grandmother
called the little birds fishes, or she would not have understood her; for
she had never seen birds.
``When you have
reached your fifteenth year,'' said the grand-mother, ``you will have permission
to rise up out of the sea, to sit on the rocks in the moonlight, while
the great ships are sailing by; and then you will see both forests and
towns.''
In the following
year, one of the sisters would be fifteen: but as each was a year younger
than the other, the youngest would have to wait five years before her turn
came to rise up from the bottom of the ocean, and see the earth as we do.
However, each promised to tell the others what she saw on her first visit,
and what she thought the most beautiful; for their grandmother could not
tell them enough; there were so many things on which they wanted information.
None of them longed so much for her turn to come as the youngest, she who
had the longest time to wait, and who was so quiet and thoughtful. Many
nights she stood by the open window, looking up through the dark blue water,
and watching the fish as they splashed about with their fins and tails.
She could see the moon and stars shining faintly; but through the water
they looked larger than they do to our eyes. When something like a black
cloud passed between her and them, she knew that it was either a whale
swimming over her head, or a ship full of human beings, who never imagined
that a pretty little mermaid was standing beneath them, holding out her
white hands towards the keel of their ship.
As soon as the
eldest was fifteen, she was allowed to rise to the surface of the ocean.
When she came back, she had hundreds of things to talk about; but the most
beautiful, she said, was to lie in the moonlight, on a sandbank, in the
quiet sea, near the coast, and to gaze on a large town nearby, where the
lights were twinkling like hundreds of stars; to listen to the sounds of
the music, the noise of carriages, and the voices of human beings, and
then to hear the merry bells peal out from the church steeples; and because
she could not go near to all those wonderful things, she longed for them
more than ever. Oh, did not the youngest sister listen eagerly to all these
descriptions? and afterwards, when she stood at the open window looking
up through the dark blue water, she thought of the great city, with all
its bustle and noise, and even fancied she could hear the sound of the
church bells, down in the depths of the sea.
In another year
the second sister received permission to rise to the surface of the water,
and to swim about where she pleased. She rose just as the sun was setting,
and this, she said, was the most beautiful sight of all. The whole sky
looked like gold, while violet and rose-colored clouds, which she could
not describe, floated over her; and, still more rapidly than the clouds,
flew a large flock of wild swans towards the setting sun, looking like
a long white veil across the sea. She also swam towards the sun; but it
sunk into the waves, and the rosy tints faded from the clouds and from
the sea.
The third sister's
turn followed; she was the boldest of them all, and she swam up a broad
river that emptied itself into the sea. On the banks she saw green hills
covered with beautiful vines; palaces and castles peeped out from amid
the proud trees of the forest; she heard the birds singing, and the rays
of the sun were so powerful that she was obliged often to dive down under
the water to cool her burning face. In a narrow creek she found a whole
troop of little human children, quite naked, and sporting about in the
water; she wanted to play with them, but they fled in a great fright; and
then a little black animal came to the water; it was a dog, but she did
not know that, for she had never before seen one. This animal barked at
her so terribly that she became frightened, and rushed back to the open
sea. But she said she should never forget the beautiful forest, the green
hills, and the pretty little children who could swim in the water, although
they had not fish's tails.
The fourth sister
was more timid; she remained in the midst of the sea, but she said it was
quite as beautiful there as nearer the land. She could see for so many
miles around her, and the sky above looked like a bell of glass. She had
seen the ships, but at such a great distance that they looked like sea-gulls.
The dolphins sported in the waves, and the great whales spouted water from
their nostrils till it seemed as if a hundred fountains were playing in
every direction.
The fifth sister's
birthday occurred in the winter; so when her turn came, she saw what the
others had not seen the first time they went up. The sea looked quite green,
and large icebergs were floating about, each like a pearl, she said, but
larger and loftier than the churches built by men. They were of the most
singular shapes, and glittered like diamonds. She had seated herself upon
one of the largest, and let the wind play with her long hair, and she remarked
that all the ships sailed by rapidly, and steered as far away as they could
from the iceberg, as if they were afraid of it. Towards evening, as the
sun went down, dark clouds covered the sky, the thunder rolled and the
lightning flashed, and the red light glowed on the icebergs as they rocked
and tossed on the heaving sea. On all the ships the sails were reefed with
fear and trembling, while she sat calmly on the floating iceberg, watching
the blue lightning, as it darted its forked flashes into the sea.
When first the
sisters had permission to rise to the surface, they were each delighted
with the new and beautiful sights they saw; but now, as grown-up girls,
they could go when they pleased, and they had become indifferent about
it. They wished themselves back again in the water, and after a month had
passed they said it was much more beautiful down below, and pleasanter
to be at home. Yet often, in the evening hours, the five sisters would
twine their arms round each other, and rise to the surface, in a row. They
had more beautiful voices than any human being could have; and before the
approach of a storm, and when they expected a ship would be lost, they
swam before the vessel, and sang sweetly of the delights to be found in
the depths of the sea, and begging the sailors not to fear if they sank
to the bottom. But the sailors could not understand the song, they took
it for the howling of the storm. And these things were never to be beautiful
for them; for if the ship sank, the men were drowned, and their dead bodies
alone reached the palace of the Sea King.
When the sisters
rose, arm-in-arm, through the water in this way, their youngest sister
would stand quite alone, looking after them, ready to cry, only that the
mermaids have no tears, and therefore they suffer more. ``Oh, were I but
fifteen years old,'' said she: ``I know that I shall love the world up
there, and all the people who live in it.''
At last she reached
her fifteenth year. ``Well, now, you are grown up,'' said the old dowager,
her grandmother; ``so you must let me adorn you like your other sisters;''
and she placed a wreath of white lilies in her hair, and every flower leaf
was half a pearl. Then the old lady ordered eight great oysters to attach
themselves to the tail of the princess to show her high rank. ``But they
hurt me so,'' said the little mermaid. ``Pride must suffer pain,'' replied
the old lady. Oh, how gladly she would have shaken off all this grandeur,
and laid aside the heavy wreath! The red flowers in her own garden would
have suited her much better, but she could not help herself: so she said,
``Farewell,'' and rose as lightly as a bubble to the surface of the water.
The sun had just set as she raised her head above the waves; but the clouds
were tinted with crimson and gold, and through the glimmering twilight
beamed the evening star in all its beauty. The sea was calm, and the air
mild and fresh. A large ship, with three masts, lay becalmed on the water,
with only one sail set; for not a breeze stiffed, and the sailors sat idle
on deck or amongst the rigging. There was music and song on board; and,
as darkness came on, a hundred colored lanterns were lighted, as if the
flags of all nations waved in the air. The little mermaid swam close to
the cabin windows; and now and then, as the waves lifted her up, she could
look in through clear glass window-panes, and see a number of well-dressed
people within. Among them was a young prince, the most beautiful of all,
with large black eyes; he was sixteen years of age, and his birthday was
being kept with much rejoicing. The sailors were dancing on deck, but when
the prince came out of the cabin, more than a hundred rockets rose in the
air, making it as bright as day. The little mermaid was so startled that
she dived under water; and when she again stretched out her head, it appeared
as if all the stars of heaven were falling around her, she had never seen
such fireworks before. Great suns spurted fire about, splendid fireflies
flew into the blue air, and everything was reflected in the clear, calm
sea beneath. The ship itself was so brightly illuminated that all the people,
and even the smallest rope, could be distinctly and plainly seen. And how
handsome the young prince looked, as he pressed the hands of all present
and smiled at them, while the music resounded through the clear night air.
It was very late;
yet the little mermaid could not take her eyes from the ship, or from the
beautiful prince. The colored lanterns had been extinguished, no more rockets
rose in the air, and the cannon had ceased firing; but the sea became restless,
and a moaning, grumbling sound could be heard beneath the waves: still
the little mermaid remained by the cabin window, rocking up and down on
the water, which enabled her to look in. After a while, the sails were
quickly unfurled, and the noble ship continued her passage; but soon the
waves rose higher, heavy clouds darkened the sky, and lightning appeared
in the distance. A dreadful storm was approaching; once more the sails
were reefed, and the great ship pursued her flying course over the raging
sea. The waves rose mountains high, as if they would have overtopped the
mast; but the ship dived like a swan between them, and then rose again
on their lofty, foaming crests. To the little mermaid this appeared pleasant
sport; not so to the sailors. At length the ship groaned and creaked; the
thick planks gave way under the lashing of the sea as it broke over the
deck; the mainmast snapped asunder like a reed; the ship lay over on her
side; and the water rushed in. The little mermaid now perceived that the
crew were in danger; even she herself was obliged to be careful to avoid
the beams and planks of the wreck which lay scattered on the water. At
one moment it was so pitch dark that she could not see a single object,
but a flash of lightning revealed the whole scene; she could see every
one who had been on board excepting the prince; when the ship parted, she
had seen him sink into the deep waves, and she was glad, for she thought
he would now be with her; and then she remembered that human beings could
not live in the water, so that when he got down to her father's palace
he would be quite dead. But he must not die. So she swam about among the
beams and planks which strewed the surface of the sea, forgetting that
they could crush her to pieces. Then she dived deeply under the dark waters,
rising and falling with the waves, till at length she managed to reach
the young prince, who was fast losing the power of swimming in that stormy
sea. His limbs were failing him, his beautiful eyes were closed, and he
would have died had not the little mermaid come to his assistance. She
held his head above the water, and let the waves drift them where they
would.
In the morning
the storm had ceased; but of the ship not a single fragment could be seen.
The sun rose up red and glowing from the water, and its beams brought back
the hue of health to the prince's cheeks; but his eyes remained closed.
The mermaid kissed his high, smooth forehead, and stroked back his wet
hair; he seemed to her like the marble statue in her little garden, and
she kissed him again, and wished that he might live. Presently they came
in sight of land; she saw lofty blue mountains, on which the white snow
rested as if a flock of swans were lying upon them. Near the coast were
beautiful green forests, and close by stood a large building, whether a
church or a convent she could not tell. Orange and citron trees grew in
the garden, and before the door stood lofty palms. The sea here formed
a little bay, in which the water was quite still, but very deep; so she
swam with the handsome prince to the beach, which was covered with fine,
white sand, and there she laid him in the warm sunshine, taking care to
raise his head higher than his body. Then bells sounded in the large white
building, and a number of young girls came into the garden. The little
mermaid swam out farther from the shore and placed herself between some
high rocks that rose out of the water; then she covered her head and neck
with the foam of the sea so that her little face might not be seen, and
watched to see what would become of the poor prince. She did not wait long
before she saw a young girl approach the spot where he lay. She seemed
frightened at first, but only for a moment; then she fetched a number of
people, and the mermaid saw that the prince came to life again, and smiled
upon those who stood round him. But to her he sent no smile; he knew not
that she had saved him. This made her very unhappy, and when he was led
away into the great building, she dived down sorrowfully into the water,
and returned to her father's castle. She had always been silent and thoughtful,
and now she was more so than ever. Her sisters asked her what she had seen
during her first visit to the surface of the water; but she would tell
them nothing. Many an evening and morning did she rise to the place where
she had left the prince. She saw the fruits in the garden ripen till they
were gathered, the snow on the tops of the mountains melt away; but she
never saw the prince, and therefore she returned home, always more sorrowful
than before. It was her only comfort to sit in her own little garden, and
fling her arm round the beautiful marble statue which was like the prince;
but she gave up tending her flowers, and they grew in wild confusion over
the paths, twining their long leaves and stems round the branches of the
trees, so that the whole place became dark and gloomy. At length she could
bear it no longer and told one of her sisters all about it. Then the others
heard the secret, and very soon it became known to two mermaids whose intimate
friend happened to know who the prince was. She had also seen the festival
on board ship, and she told them where the prince came from, and where
his palace stood.
``Come, little
sister,'' said the other princesses; then they entwined their arms and
rose up in a long row to the surface of the water, close by the spot where
they knew the prince's palace stood. It was built of bright yellow shining
stone, with long flights of marble steps, one of which reached quite down
to the sea. Splendid gilded cupolas rose over the roof, and between the
pillars that surrounded the whole building stood life-like statues of marble.
Through the clear crystal of the lofty windows could be seen noble rooms,
with costly silk curtains and hangings of tapestry; while the walls were
covered with beautiful paintings which were a pleasure to look at. In the
centre of the largest saloon a fountain threw its sparkling jets high up
into the glass cupola of the ceiling, through which the sun shone down
upon the water and upon the beautiful plants growing round the basin of
the fountain. Now that she knew where he lived, she spent many an evening
and many a night on the water near the palace. She would swim much nearer
the shore than any of the others ventured to do; indeed once she went quite
up the narrow channel under the marble balcony, which threw a broad shadow
on the water. Here she would sit and watch the young prince, who thought
himself quite alone in the bright moonlight. She saw him many times of
an evening sailing in a pleasant boat, with music playing and flags waving.
She peeped out from among the green rushes, and if the wind caught her
long silvery-white veil, those who saw it believed it to be a swan, spreading
out its wings. On many a night, too, when the fishermen, with their torches,
were out at sea, she heard them relate so many good things about the doings
of the young prince, that she was glad she had saved his life when he had
been tossed about half-dead on the waves. And she remembered that his head
had rested on her bosom, and how heartily she had kissed him; but he knew
nothing of all this, and could not even dream of her. She grew more and
more fond of human beings, and wished more and more to be able to wander
about with those whose world seemed to be so much larger than her own.
They could fly over the sea in ships, and mount the high hills which were
far above the clouds; and the lands they possessed, their woods and their
fields, stretched far away beyond the reach of her sight. There was so
much that she wished to know, and her sisters were unable to answer all
her questions. Then she applied to her old grandmother, who knew all about
the upper world, which she very rightly called the lands above the sea.
``If human beings
are not drowned,'' asked the little mermaid, ``can they live forever? do
they never die as we do here in the sea?''
``Yes,'' replied
the old lady, ``they must also die, and their term of life is even shorter
than ours. We sometimes live to three hundred years, but when we cease
to exist here we only become the foam on the surface of the water, and
we have not even a grave down here of those we love. We have not immortal
souls, we shall never live again; but, like the green sea-weed, when once
it has been cut off, we can never flourish more. Human beings, on the contrary,
have a soul which lives forever, lives after the body has been turned to
dust. It rises up through the clear, pure air beyond the glittering stars.
As we rise out of the water, and behold all the land of the earth, so do
they rise to unknown and glorious regions which we shall never see.''
``Why have not
we an immortal soul?'' asked the little mermaid mournfully; ``I would give
gladly all the hundreds of years that I have to live, to be a human being
only for one day, and to have the hope of knowing the happiness of that
glorious world above the stars.''
``You must not
think of that,'' said the old woman; ``we feel ourselves to be much happier
and much better off than human beings.''
``So I shall die,''
said the little mermaid, ``and as the foam of the sea I shall be driven
about never again to hear the music of the waves, or to see the pretty
flowers nor the red sun. Is there anything I can do to win an immortal
soul?''
``No,'' said the
old woman, ``unless a man were to love you so much that you were more to
him than his father or mother; and if all his thoughts and all his love
were fixed upon you, and the priest placed his right hand in yours, and
he promised to be true to you here and hereafter, then his soul would glide
into your body and you would obtain a share in the future happiness of
mankind. He would give a soul to you and retain his own as well; but this
can never happen. Your fish's tail, which amongst us is considered so beautiful,
is thought on earth to be quite ugly; they do not know any better, and
they think it necessary to have two stout props, which they call legs,
in order to be handsome.''
Then the little
mermaid sighed, and looked sorrowfully at her fish's tail. ``Let us be
happy,'' said the old lady, ``and dart and spring about during the three
hundred years that we have to live, which is really quite long enough;
after that we can rest ourselves all the better. This evening we are going
to have a court ball.''
It is one of those
splendid sights which we can never see on earth. The walls and the ceiling
of the large ball-room were of thick, but transparent crystal. May hundreds
of colossal shells, some of a deep red, others of a grass green, stood
on each side in rows, with blue fire in them, which lighted up the whole
saloon, and shone through the walls, so that the sea was also illuminated.
Innumerable fishes, great and small, swam past the crystal walls; on some
of them the scales glowed with a purple brilliancy, and on others they
shone like silver and gold. Through the halls flowed a broad stream, and
in it danced the mermen and the mermaids to the music of their own sweet
singing. No one on earth has such a lovely voice as theirs. The little
mermaid sang more sweetly than them all. The whole court applauded her
with hands and tails; and for a moment her heart felt quite gay, for she
knew she had the loveliest voice of any on earth or in the sea. But she
soon thought again of the world above her, for she could not forget the
charming prince, nor her sorrow that she had not an immortal soul like
his; therefore she crept away silently out of her father's palace, and
while everything within was gladness and song, she sat in her own little
garden sorrowful and alone. Then she heard the bugle sounding through the
water, and thought--``He is certainly sailing above, he on whom my wishes
depend, and in whose hands I should like to place the happiness of my life.
I will venture all for him, and to win an immortal soul, while my sisters
are dancing in my father's palace, I will go to the sea witch, of whom
I have always been so much afraid, but she can give me counsel and help.''
And then the little
mermaid went out from her garden, and took the road to the foaming whirlpools,
behind which the sorceress lived. She had never been that way before: neither
flowers nor grass grew there; nothing but bare, gray, sandy ground stretched
out to the whirlpool, where the water, like foaming mill-wheels, whirled
round everything that it seized, and cast it into the fathomless deep.
Through the midst of these crushing whirlpools the little mermaid was obliged
to pass, to reach the dominions of the sea witch; and also for a long distance
the only road lay right across a quantity of warm, bubbling mire, called
by the witch her turfmoor. Beyond this stood her house, in the centre of
a strange forest, in which all the trees and flowers were polypi, half
animals and half plants; they looked like serpents with a hundred heads
growing out of the ground. The branches were long slimy arms, with fingers
like flexible worms, moving limb after limb from the root to the top. All
that could be reached in the sea they seized upon, and held fast, so that
it never escaped from their clutches. The little mermaid was so alarmed
at what she saw, that she stood still, and her heart beat with fear, and
she was very nearly turning back; but she thought of the prince, and of
the human soul for which she longed, and her courage returned. She fastened
her long flowing hair round her head, so that the polypi might not seize
hold of it. She laid her hands together across her bosom, and then she
darted forward as a fish shoots through the water, between the supple arms
and fingers of the ugly polypi, which were stretched out on each side of
her. She saw that each held in its grasp something it had seized with its
numerous little arms, as if they were iron bands. The white skeletons of
human beings who had perished at sea, and had sunk down into the deep waters,
skeletons of land animals, oars, rudders, and chests of ships were lying
tightly grasped by their clinging arms; even a little mermaid, whom they
had caught and strangled; and this seemed the most shocking of all to the
little princess.
She now came to
a space of marshy ground in the wood, where large, fat water-snakes were
rolling in the mire, and showing their ugly, drab-colored bodies. In the
midst of this spot stood a house, built with the bones of shipwrecked human
beings. There sat the sea witch, allowing a toad to eat from her mouth,
just as people sometimes feed a canary with a piece of sugar. She called
the ugly water-snakes her little chickens, and allowed them to crawl all
over her bosom.
``I know what
you want,'' said the sea witch; ``it is very stupid of you, but you shall
have your way, and it will bring you to sorrow, my pretty princess. You
want to get rid of your fish's tail, and to have two supports instead of
it, like human beings on earth, so that the young prince may fall in love
with you, and that you may have an immortal soul.'' And then the witch
laughed so loud and disgustingly, that the toad and the snakes fell to
the ground, and lay there wriggling about. ``You are but just in time,''
said the witch; ``for after sunrise to-morrow I should not be able to help
you till the end of another year. I will prepare a draught for you, with
which you must swim to land tomorrow before sunrise, and sit down on the
shore and drink it. Your tail will then disappear, and shrink up into what
mankind calls legs, and you will feel great pain, as if a sword were passing
through you. But all who see you will say that you are the prettiest little
human being they ever saw. You will still have the same floating gracefulness
of movement, and no dancer will ever tread so lightly; but at every step
you take it will feel as if you were treading upon sharp knives, and that
the blood must flow. If you will bear all this, I will help you.''
``Yes, I will,''
said the little princess in a trembling voice, as she thought of the prince
and the immortal soul.
``But think again,''
said the witch; ``for when once your shape has become like a human being,
you can no more be a mermaid. You will never return through the water to
your sisters, or to your father's palace again; and if you do not win the
love of the prince, so that he is willing to forget his father and mother
for your sake, and to love you with his whole soul, and allow the priest
to join your hands that you may be man and wife, then you will never have
an immortal soul. The first morning after he marries another your heart
will break, and you will become foam on the crest of the waves.''
``I will do it,''
said the little mermaid, and she became pale as death. ``But I must be
paid also,'' said the witch, ``and it is not a trifle that I ask. You have
the sweetest voice of any who dwell here in the depths of the sea, and
you believe that you will be able to charm the prince with it also, but
this voice you must give to me; the best thing you possess will I have
for the price of my draught. My own blood must be mixed with it, that it
may be as sharp as a two-edged sword.''
``But if you take
away my voice,'' said the little mermaid, ``what is left for me?'' ``Your
beautiful form, your graceful walk, and your expressive eyes; surely with
these you can enchain a man's heart. Well, have you lost your courage?
Put out your little tongue that I may cut it off as my payment; then you
shall have the powerful draught.''
``It shall be,''
said the little mermaid. Then the witch placed her cauldron on the fire,
to prepare the magic draught.``Cleanliness is a good thing,'' said she,
scouring the vessel with snakes, which she had tied together in a large
knot; then she pricked herself in the breast, and let the black blood drop
into it. The steam that rose formed itself into such horrible shapes that
no one could look at them without fear. Every moment the witch threw something
else into the vessel, and when it began to boil, the sound was like the
weeping of a crocodile. When at last the magic draught was ready, it looked
like the clearest water. ``There it is for you,'' said the witch. Then
she cut off the mermaid's tongue, so that she became dumb, and would never
again speak or sing. ``If the polypi should seize hold of you as you return
through the wood,'' said the witch, ``throw over them a few drops of the
potion, and their fingers will be torn into a thousand pieces.'' But the
little mermaid had no occasion to do this, for the polypi sprang back in
terror when they caught sight of the glittering draught, which shone in
her hand like a twinkling star.
So she passed
quickly through the wood and the marsh, and between the rushing whirlpools.
She saw that in her father's palace the torches in the ballroom were extinguished,
and all within asleep; but she did not venture to go in to them, for now
she was dumb and going to leave them forever, she felt as if her heart
would break. She stole into the garden, took a flower from the flower-beds
of each of her sisters, kissed her hand a thousand times towards the palace,
and then rose up through the dark blue waters. The sun had not risen when
she came in sight of the prince's palace, and approached the beautiful
marble steps, but the moon shone clear and bright. Then the little mermaid
drank the magic draught, and it seemed as if a two-edged sword went through
her delicate body: she fell into a swoon, and lay like one dead. When the
sun arose and shone over the sea, she recovered, and felt a sharp pain;
but just before her stood the handsome young prince. He fixed his coal-black
eyes upon her so earnestly that she cast down her own, and then became
aware that her fish's tail was gone, and that she had as pretty a pair
of white legs and tiny feet as any little maiden could have; but she had
no clothes, so she wrapped herself in her long, thick hair. The prince
asked her who she was, and where she came from, and she looked at him mildly
and sorrowfully with her deep blue eyes; but she could not speak. Every
step she took was as the witch had said it would be, she felt as if treading
upon the points of needles or sharp knives; but she bore it willingly,
and stepped as lightly by the prince's side as a soap- bubble, so that
he and all who saw her wondered at her graceful-swaying movements. She
was very soon arrayed in costly robes of silk and muslin, and was the most
beautiful creature in the palace; but she was dumb, and could neither speak
nor sing.
Beautiful female
slaves, dressed in silk and gold, stepped forward and sang before the prince
and his royal parents: one sang better than all the others, and the prince
clapped his hands and smiled at her. This was great sorrow to the little
mermaid; she knew how much more sweetly she herself could sing once, and
she thought, ``Oh if he could only know that! I have given away my voice
forever, to be with him.''
The slaves next
performed some pretty fairy-like dances, to the sound of beautiful music.
Then the little mermaid raised her lovely white arms, stood on the tips
of her toes, and glided over the floor, and danced as no one yet had been
able to dance. At each moment her beauty became more revealed, and her
expressive eyes appealed more directly to the heart than the songs of the
slaves. Every one was enchanted, especially the prince, who called her
his little foundling; and she danced again quite readily, to please him,
though each time her foot touched the floor it seemed as if she trod on
sharp knives.
The prince said
she should remain with him always, and she received permission to sleep
at his door, on a velvet cushion. He had a page's dress made for her, that
she might accompany him on horseback. They rode together through the sweet-scented
woods, where the green boughs touched their shoulders, and the little birds
sang among the fresh leaves. She climbed with the prince to the tops of
high mountains; and although her tender feet bled so that even her steps
were marked, she only laughed, and followed him till they could see the
clouds beneath them looking like a flock of birds travelling to distant
lands. While at the prince's palace, and when all the household were asleep,
she would go and sit on the broad marble steps; for it eased her burning
feet to bathe them in the cold sea- water; and then she thought of all
those below in the deep.
Once during the
night her sisters came up arm-in-arm, singing sorrowfully, as they floated
on the water. She beckoned to them, and then they recognized her, and told
her how she had grieved them. After that, they came to the same place every
night; and once she saw in the distance her old grandmother, who had not
been to the surface of the sea for many years, and the old Sea King, her
father, with his crown on his head. They stretched out their hands towards
her, but they did not venture so near the land as her sisters did.
As the days passed,
she loved the prince more fondly, and he loved her as he would love a little
child, but it never came into his head to make her his wife; yet, unless
he married her, she could not receive an immortal soul; and, on the morning
after his marriage with another, she would dissolve into the foam of the
sea.
``Do you not love
me the best of them all?'' the eyes of the little mermaid seemed to say,
when he took her in his arms, and kissed her fair forehead. ``Yes, you
are dear to me,'' said the prince; ``for you have the best heart, and you
are the most devoted to me; you are like a young maiden whom I once
saw, but whom I shall never meet again. I was in a ship that was wrecked,
and the waves cast me ashore near a holy temple, where several young maidens
performed the service. The youngest of them found me on the shore, and
saved my life. I saw her but twice, and she is the only one in the world
whom I could love; but you are like her, and you have almost driven her
image out of my mind. She belongs to the holy temple, and my good fortune
has sent you to me instead of her; and we will never part.''
``Ah, he knows
not that it was I who saved his life,'' thought the little mermaid. ``I
carried him over the sea to the wood where the temple stands: I sat beneath
the foam, and watched till the human beings came to help him. I saw the
pretty maiden that he loves better than he loves me;'' and the mermaid
sighed deeply, but she could not shed tears. ``He says the maiden belongs
to the holy temple, therefore she will never return to the world. They
will meet no more: while I am by his side, and see him every day. I will
take care of him, and love him, and give up my life for his sake.''
Very soon it was
said that the prince must marry, and that the beautiful daughter of a neighboring
king would be his wife, for a fine ship was being fitted out. Although
the prince gave out that he merely intended to pay a visit to the king,
it was generally supposed that he really went to see his daughter. A great
company were to go with him. The little mermaid smiled, and shook her head.
She knew the prince's thoughts better than any of the others.
``I must travel,''
he had said to her; ``I must see this beautiful princess; my parents desire
it; but they will not oblige me to bring her home as my bride. I cannot
love her; she is not like the beautiful maiden in the temple, whom you
resemble. If I were forced to choose a bride, I would rather choose you,
my dumb foundling, with those expressive eyes.'' And then he kissed her
rosy mouth, played with her long waving hair, and laid his head on her
heart, while she dreamed of human happiness and an immortal soul. ``You
are not afraid of the sea, my dumb child,'' said he, as they stood on the
deck of the noble ship which was to carry them to the country of the neighboring
king. And then he told her of storm and of calm, of strange fishes in the
deep beneath them, and of what the divers had seen there; and she smiled
at his descriptions, for she knew better than any one what wonders were
at the bottom of the sea.
In the moonlight,
when all on board were asleep, excepting the man at the helm, who was steering,
she sat on the deck, gazing down through the clear water. She thought she
could distinguish her father's castle, and upon it her aged grandmother,
with the silver crown on her head, looking through the rushing tide at
the keel of the vessel. Then her sisters came up on the waves, and gazed
at her mournfully, wringing their white hands. She beckoned to them, and
smiled, and wanted to tell them how happy and well off she was; but the
cabin-boy approached, and when her sisters dived down he thought it was
only the foam of the sea which he saw.
The next morning
the ship sailed into the harbor of a beautiful town belonging to the king
whom the prince was going to visit. The church bells were ringing, and
from the high towers sounded a flourish of trumpets; and soldiers, with
flying colors and glittering bayonets, lined the rocks through which they
passed. Every day was a festival; balls and entertainments followed one
another.
But the princess
had not yet appeared. People said that she was being brought up and educated
in a religious house, where she was learning every royal virtue. At last
she came. Then the little mermaid, who was very anxious to see whether
she was really beautiful, was obliged to acknowledge that she had never
seen a more perfect vision of beauty. Her skin was delicately fair, and
beneath her long dark eye-lashes her laughing blue eyes shone with truth
and purity.
``It was you,''
said the prince, ``who saved my life when I lay dead on the beach,'' and
he folded his blushing bride in his arms. ``Oh, I am too happy,'' said
he to the little mermaid; ``my fondest hopes are all fulfilled. You will
rejoice at my happiness; for your devotion to me is great and sincere.''
The little mermaid kissed his hand, and felt as if her heart were already
broken. His wedding morning would bring death to her, and she would change
into the foam of the sea. All the church bells rung, and the heralds rode
about the town proclaiming the betrothal. Perfumed oil was burning in costly
silver lamps on every altar. The priests waved the censers, while the bride
and bridegroom joined their hands and received the blessing of the bishop.
The little mermaid, dressed in silk and gold, held up the bride's train;
but her ears heard nothing of the festive music, and her eyes saw not the
holy ceremony; she thought of the night of death which was coming to her,
and of all she had lost in the world. On the same evening the bride and
bridegroom went on board ship; cannons were roaring, flags waving, and
in the centre of the ship a costly tent of purple and gold had been erected.
It contained elegant couches, for the reception of the bridal pair during
the night. The ship, with swelling sails and a favorable wind, glided away
smoothly and lightly over the calm sea. When it grew dark a number of colored
lamps were lit, and the sailors danced merrily on the deck. The little
mermaid could not help thinking of her first rising out of the sea, when
she had seen similar festivities and joys; and she joined in the dance,
poised herself in the air as a swallow when he pursues his prey, and all
present cheered her with wonder. She had never danced so elegantly before.
Her tender feet felt as if cut with sharp knives, but she cared not for
it; a sharper pang had pierced through her heart. She knew this was the
last evening she should ever see the prince, for whom she had forsaken
her kindred and her home; she had given up her beautiful voice, and suffered
unheard-of pain daily for him, while he knew nothing of it. This was the
last evening that she would breathe the same air with him, or gaze on the
starry sky and the deep sea; an eternal night, without a thought or a dream,
awaited her: she had no soul and now she could never win one. All was joy
and gayety on board ship till long after midnight; she laughed and danced
with the rest, while the thoughts of death were in her heart. The prince
kissed his beautiful bride, while she played with his raven hair, till
they went arm-in-arm to rest in the splendid tent. Then all became still
on board the ship; the helmsman, alone awake, stood at the helm. The little
mermaid leaned her white arms on the edge of the vessel, and looked towards
the east for the first blush of morning, for that first ray of dawn that
would bring her death. She saw her sisters rising out of the flood: they
were as pale as herself; but their long beautiful hair waved no more in
the wind, and had been cut off.
``We have given
our hair to the witch,'' said they, ``to obtain help for you, that you
may not die tonight. She has given us a knife: here it is, see it is very
sharp. Before the sun rises you must plunge it into the heart of the prince;
when the warm blood falls upon your feet they will grow together again,
and form into a fish's tail, and you will be once more a mermaid, and return
to us to live out your three hundred years before you die and change into
the salt sea foam. Haste, then; he or you must die before sunrise. Our
old grandmother moans so for you, that her white hair is falling off from
sorrow, as ours fell under the witch's scissors. Kill the prince and come
back; hasten: do you not see the first red streaks in the sky? In a few
minutes the sun will rise, and you must die.'' And then they sighed deeply
and mournfully, and sank down beneath the waves.
The little mermaid
drew back the crimson curtain of the tent, and beheld the fair bride with
her head resting on the prince's breast. She bent down and kissed his fair
brow, then looked at the sky on which the rosy dawn grew brighter and brighter;
then she glanced at the sharp knife, and again fixed her eyes on the prince,
who whispered the name of his bride in his dreams. She was in his thoughts,
and the knife trembled in the hand of the little mermaid: then she flung
it far away from her into the waves; the water turned red where it fell,
and the drops that spurted up looked like blood. She cast one more lingering,
half-fainting glance at the prince, and then threw herself from the ship
into the sea, and thought her body was dissolving into foam. The sun rose
above the waves, and his warm rays fell on the cold foam of the little
mermaid, who did not feel as if she were dying. She saw the bright sun,
and all around her floated hundreds of transparent beautiful beings; she
could see through them the white sails of the ship, and the red clouds
in the sky; their speech was melodious, but too ethereal to be heard by
mortal ears, as they were also unseen by mortal eyes. The little mermaid
perceived that she had a body like theirs, and that she continued to rise
higher and higher out of the foam. ``Where am I?'' asked she, and her voice
sounded ethereal, as the voice of those who were with her; no earthly music
could imitate it.
``Among the daughters
of the air,'' answered one of them. ``A mermaid has not an immortal soul,
nor can she obtain one unless she wins the love of a human being. On the
power of another hangs her eternal destiny. But the daughters of the air,
although they do not possess an immortal soul, can, by their good deeds,
procure one for themselves. We fly to warm countries, and cool the sultry
air that destroys mankind with the pestilence. We carry the perfume of
the flowers to spread health and restoration. After we have striven for
three hundred years to all the good in our power, we receive an immortal
soul and take part in the happiness of mankind. You, poor little mermaid,
have tried with your whole heart to do as we are doing; you have suffered
and endured and raised yourself to the spirit-world by your good deeds;
and now, by striving for three hundred years in the same way, you may obtain
an immortal soul.''
The little mermaid
lifted her glorified eyes towards the sun, and felt them, for the first
time, filling with tears. On the ship, in which she had left the prince,
there were life and noise; she saw him and his beautiful bride searching
for her; sorrowfully they gazed at the pearly foam, as if they knew she
had thrown herself into the waves. Unseen she kissed the forehead of her
bride, and fanned the prince, and then mounted with the other children
of the air to a rosy cloud that floated through the aether.
``After three
hundred years, thus shall we float into the kingdom of heaven,'' said she.
``And we may even get there sooner,'' whispered one of her companions.
``Unseen we can enter the houses of men, where there are children, and
for every day on which we find a good child, who is the joy of his parents
and deserves their love, our time of probation is shortened. The child
does not know, when we fly through the room, that we smile with joy at
his good conduct, for we can count one year less of our three hundred years.
But when we see a naughty or a wicked child, we shed tears of sorrow, and
for every tear a day is added to our time of trial!''
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