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