| | | 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 granddaughters. 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 sulfur. 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 grandmother, "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 windowpanes,
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 seaweed, 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 ballroom 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 center 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 flowerbeds 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
traveling 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 eyelashes 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 center 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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