"My fair young maiden, surely no one can look on you without pleasure;
but remember betimes so to attune your soul, that it may produce a
harmony ever in accordance with the soul of your wedded bridegroom."
"Soul!" cried Undine, with a laugh. "What you say has a remarkably
pretty sound; and for most people, too, it may be a very instructive
and profitable caution. But when a person has no soul at all, how, I
pray you, can such attuning be then possible? And this in truth is
just my condition."
The priest was much hurt, but continued silent in holy displeasure,
and turned away his face from the maiden in sorrow. She went up to
him, however, with the most winning sweetness, and said:--
"Nay, I entreat you, first listen to me, before you are angry with me;
for your anger is painful to me, and you ought not to give pain to a
creature that has not hurt you. Only have patience with me, and I will
explain to you every word of what I meant."
It was evident that she had come to say something important; when she
suddenly faltered as if seized with inward shuddering, and burst into
a passion of tears. They were none of them able to understand the
intenseness of her feelings; and with mingled emotions of fear and
anxiety, they gazed on her in silence. Then wiping away her tears and
looking earnestly at the priest, she at last said:--
"There must be something lovely, but at the same time something most
awful, about a soul. In the name of God, holy man, were it not better
that we never shared a gift so mysterious?"
Again she paused, and restrained her tears, as if waiting for an
answer. All in the cottage had risen from their seats, and stepped
back from her with horror. She, however, seemed to have eyes for no
one but the holy man; an awful curiosity was painted on her features,
which appeared terrible to the others.
"Heavily must the soul weigh down its possessor," she pursued, when no
one returned her any answer--"very heavily! for already its
approaching image overshadows me with anguish and mourning. And alas,
I have till now been so merry and light-hearted!" and she burst into
another flood of tears and covered her face with her veil.
The priest, going up to her with a solemn look, now addressed himself
to her, and conjured her, by the name of God most holy, if any spirit
of evil possessed her, to remove the light covering from her face. But
she sank before him on her knees, and repeated after him every sacred
expression he uttered, giving praise to God, and protesting that she
"wished well to the whole world."
The priest then spoke to the knight: "Sir bridegroom, I leave you
alone with her whom I have united to you in marriage. So far as I can
discover there is nothing of evil in her, but assuredly much that is
wonderful. What I recommend to you is prudence, love, and fidelity."
Thus speaking, he left the apartment; and the fisherman with his wife
followed him, crossing themselves.
Undine had sunk upon her knees. She uncovered her face, and exclaimed,
while she looked fearfully round upon Huldbrand, "Alas, you will now
refuse to look upon me as your own; and I still have done nothing
evil, poor unhappy child that I am!" She spoke these words with a look
so infinitely sweet and touching, that her bridegroom forgot both the
confession that had shocked and the mystery that had perplexed him;
and hastening to her, he raised her in his arms. She smiled through
her tears; and that smile was like the morning light playing upon a
small stream. "You cannot desert me!" she whispered confidingly, and
stroked the knight's cheeks with her little soft hands. He turned away
from the frightful thoughts that still lurked in the recesses of his
soul, and were persuading him that he had been married to a fairy, or
some spiteful and mischievous being of the spirit world. Only the
single question, and that almost unawares, escaped from his lips:--
"Dearest Undine, tell me this one thing: what was it you meant by
'spirits of earth' and 'Kuehleborn,' when the priest stood knocking at
the door?"
"Tales! mere tales of children!" answered Undine laughing, now quite
restored to her wonted gayety. "I first frightened you with them, and
you frightened me. This is the end of my story, and of our nuptial
evening."
"Nay, not so," replied the enamored knight, extinguishing the tapers,
and a thousand times kissing his beautiful and beloved bride; while,
lighted by the moon that shone brightly through the windows, he bore
her into their bridal apartment.
The fresh light of morning woke the young married pair: but Huldbrand
lay lost in silent reflection. Whenever, during the night, he had
fallen asleep, strange and horrible dreams of spectres had disturbed
him; and these shapes, grinning at him by stealth, strove to disguise
themselves as beautiful females; and from beautiful females they all
at once assumed the appearance of dragons. And when he started up,
aroused by the intrusion of these hideous forms, the moonlight shone
pale and cold before the windows without. He looked affrighted at
Undine, in whose arms he had fallen asleep: and she was reposing in
unaltered beauty and sweetness beside him. Then pressing her rosy lips
with a light kiss, he again fell into a slumber, only to be awakened
by new terrors.
When fully awake he had thought over this connection. He reproached
himself for any doubt that could lead him into error in regard to his
lovely wife. He also confessed to her his injustice; but she only gave
him her fair hand, sighed deeply, and remained silent. Yet a glance of
fervent tenderness, an expression of the soul beaming in her eyes,
such as he had never witnessed there before, left him in undoubted
assurance that Undine bore him no ill-will.
He then rose joyfully, and leaving her, went to the common apartment,
where the inmates of the house had already met. The three were sitting
round the hearth with an air of anxiety about them, as if they feared
trusting themselves to raise their voice above a low, apprehensive
undertone. The priest appeared to be praying in his inmost spirit,
with a view to avert some fatal calamity. But when they observed the
young husband come forth so cheerful, they dispelled the cloud that
remained upon their brows: the old fisherman even began to laugh with
the knight, till his aged wife herself could not help smiling with
great good-humor.
Undine had in the mean time got ready, and now entered the room: all
rose to meet her, but remained fixed in perfect admiration--she was so
changed, and yet the same. The priest, with paternal affection beaming
from his countenance, first went up to her; and as he raised his hand
to pronounce a blessing, the beautiful bride sank on her knees before
him with religious awe; she begged his pardon in terms both respectful
and submissive for any foolish things she might have uttered the
evening before, and entreated him with emotion to pray for the welfare
of her soul. She then rose, kissed her foster-parents, and after
thanking them for all the kindness they had shown her, said:
"Oh, I now feel in my inmost heart how much, how infinitely much, you
have done for me, you dear, dear friends of my childhood!"
At first she was wholly unable to tear herself away from their
affectionate caresses; but the moment she saw the good old mother
busy in getting breakfast, she went to the hearth, applied herself to
cooking the food and putting it on the table, and would not suffer her
to take the least share in the work.
She continued in this frame of spirit the whole day: calm, kind,
attentive--half matronly and half girlish. The three who had been
longest acquainted with her expected every instant to see her
capricious spirit break out in some whimsical change or sportive
vagary. But their fears were quite unnecessary. Undine continued as
mild and gentle as an angel. The priest found it all but impossible to
remove his eyes from her; and he often said to the bridegroom:--
"The bounty of Heaven, sir, through me its unworthy instrument,
intrusted to you yesterday an invaluable treasure: cherish it as you
ought, and it will promote your temporal and eternal welfare."
Toward evening Undine was hanging upon the knight's arm with lowly
tenderness, while she drew him gently out before the door, where the
setting sun shone richly over the fresh grass and upon the high
slender boles of the trees. Her emotion was visible; the dew of
sadness and love swam in her eyes, while a tender and fearful secret
seemed to hover upon her lips, but was only made known by hardly
breathed sighs. She led her husband farther and farther onward without
speaking. When he asked her questions, she replied only with looks, in
which, it is true, there appeared to be no immediate answer to his
inquiries, but a whole heaven of love and timid devotion. Thus they
reached the margin of the swollen forest stream, and the knight was
astonished to see it gliding away with so gentle a murmuring of its
waves, that no vestige of its former swell and wildness was now
discernible.
"By morning it will be wholly drained off," said the beautiful wife,
almost weeping, "and you will then be able to travel, without anything
to hinder you, whithersoever you will."
"Not without you, dear Undine," replied the knight, laughing: "think
only, were I disposed to leave you, both the Church and the spiritual
powers, the emperor and the laws of the realm, would require the
fugitive to be seized and restored to you."
"All this depends on you--all depends on you," whispered his little
companion, half weeping and half smiling. "But I still feel sure that
you will not leave me; I love you too deeply to fear that misery. Now
bear me over to that little island which lies before us. There shall
the decision be made. I could easily, indeed, glide through that mere
rippling of the water without your aid, but it is so sweet to lie in
your arms; and should you determine to put me away, I shall have
rested in them once more, ... for the last time."
Huldbrand was so full of strange anxiety and emotion, that he knew not
what answer to make her. He took her in his arms and carried her over,
now first realizing the fact that this was the same little island from
which he had borne her back to the old fisherman, the first night of
his arrival. On the farther side he placed her upon the soft grass,
and was throwing himself lovingly near his beautiful burden; but she
said to him:--"Not here, but opposite me. I shall read my doom in your
eyes, even before your lips pronounce it; now listen attentively to
what I shall relate to you." And she began:--
"You must know, my own love, that there are beings in the elements
which bear the strongest resemblance to the human race, and which at
the same time but seldom become visible to you. The wonderful
salamanders sparkle and sport amid the flames; deep in the earth the
meagre and malicious gnomes pursue their revels; the forest spirits
belong to the air, and wander in the woods; while in the seas, rivers,
and streams live the widespread race of water spirits. These last,
beneath resounding domes of crystal, through which the sky can shine
with its sun and stars, inhabit a region of light and beauty; lofty
coral-trees glow with blue and crimson fruits in their gardens; they
walk over the pure sand of the sea, among exquisitely variegated
shells, and amid whatever of beauty the old world possessed, such as
the present is no more worthy to enjoy,--creations which the floods
covered with their secret veils of silver; and now these noble
monuments sparkle below, stately and solemn, and bedewed by the water,
which loves them, and calls forth from their crevices delicate
moss-flowers and enwreathing tufts of sedge.
"Now, the nation that dwell there are very fair and lovely to behold,
for the most part more beautiful than human beings. Many a fisherman
has been so fortunate as to catch a view of a delicate maiden of the
waters, while she was floating and singing upon the deep. He would
then spread far the fame of her beauty; and to such wonderful females
men are wont to give the name of Undines.--But what need of saying
more? You, my dear husband, now actually behold an Undine before
you."
The knight would have persuaded himself that his lovely wife was under
the influence of one of her odd whims, and that she was only amusing
herself and him with her extravagant inventions. He wished it might be
so. But with whatever emphasis he said this to himself, he still could
not credit the hope for a moment: a strange shivering shot through his
soul; unable to utter a word, he gazed upon the sweet speaker with a
fixed eye. She shook her head in distress, sighed from her full heart,
and then proceeded in the following manner:--
"We should be far superior to you, who are another race of the human
family,--for we also call ourselves human beings, as we resemble them
in form and features,--had we not one evil peculiar to ourselves. Both
we and the beings I have mentioned as inhabiting the other elements
vanish into air at death and go out of existence, spirit and body, so
that no vestige of us remains; and when you hereafter awake to a purer
state of being, we shall remain where sand and sparks and wind and
waves remain. Thus, we have no souls; the element moves us, and again
is obedient to our will while we live, though it scatters us like dust
when we die; and as we have nothing to trouble us, we are as merry as
nightingales, little gold-fishes, and other pretty children of nature.
"But all beings aspire to rise in the scale of existence higher than
they are. It was therefore the wish of my father, who is a powerful
water prince in the Mediterranean Sea, that his only daughter should
become possessed of a soul, although she should have to endure many of
the sufferings of those who share that gift.
"Now, the race to which I belong have no other means of obtaining a
soul than by forming with an individual of your own the most intimate
union of love. I am now possessed of a soul, and my soul thanks you,
my best beloved, and never shall cease to thank you, if you do not
render my whole future life miserable. For what will become of me, if
you avoid and reject me? Still, I would not keep you as my own by
artifice. And should you decide to cast me off, then do it now, and
return alone to the shore. I will plunge into this brook, where my
uncle will receive me; my uncle, who here in the forest, far removed
from his other friends, passes his strange and solitary existence. But
he is powerful, as well as revered and beloved by many great rivers;
and as he brought me hither to the fisherman a light-hearted and
laughing child, he will take me home to my parents a woman, gifted
with a soul, with power to love and to suffer."
She was about to add something more, when Huldbrand with the most
heartfelt tenderness and love clasped her in his arms, and again bore
her back to the shore. There amid tears and kisses he first swore
never to forsake his affectionate wife, and esteemed himself even more
happy than Pygmalion, for whom Venus gave life to this beautiful
statue, and thus changed it into a beloved wife. Supported by his arm,
and in the confidence of affection, Undine returned to the cottage;
and now she first realized with her whole heart how little cause she
had for regretting what she had left--the crystal palaces of her
mysterious father.