THE LITTLE MERMAID
Part 2
by Hans Christian Andersen (1872)
� � � � � � �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 themagic draught.
� � � � � � �"Cleanliness is a good thing," said she, scouring the vesselwith 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, andbetween 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 forwardand sang before the prince and his royal parents: one sang better thanall 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!"
THE END
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