Fairy Tale-The Little Mermaid
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.
The Sea King had been a widower for many years, and his aged mother kept house
for him. She was a very wise woman, and exceedingly proud of her high birth; on
that account she wore twelve oysters on her tail; while others, also of high
rank, were only allowed to wear six. She was, however, deserving of very great
praise, especially for her care of the little sea-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 to-night. 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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