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