Hans Christian
Andersen
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.
< 2 >
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.
< 3 >
"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.
< 4 >
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.
< 5 >
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.
< 6 >
"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.
< 7 >
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.
< 8 >
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.
< 9 >
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.
< 10 >
"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."
< 11 >
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.
< 12 >
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."
< 13 >
"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.
< 14 >
"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.
< 15 >
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.
< 16 >
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.
< 17 >
"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.
< 18 >
"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.
< 19 >
"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.
< 20 >
"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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