Undine had been perfectly quiet and well-behaved both before and
during the marriage ceremony; but now her wild spirits seemed the more
uncontrollable from the restraint they had undergone, and rose to an
extravagant height. She played all manner of childish tricks on her
husband, her foster parents, and even the venerable Priest, and when
the old woman began to check her, one or two words from Huldbrand, who
gravely called Undine "his wife," reduced her to silence. The Knight
himself, however, was far from being pleased at Undine's childishness;
but no hint or sign would stop her. Whenever she perceived his
disapproving looks--which she occasionally did--it subdued her for the
moment; she would sit down by him, whisper something playfully in his
ear, and so dispel the frown as it gathered on his brow. But the next
instant some wild nonsense would dart into her head, and set her off
worse than ever. At last the Priest said to her, in a kind but grave
manner, "My dear young lady, no one that beholds you can be severe
upon you, it is true; but remember, it is your duty to keep watch over
your soul, that it may be ever in harmony with that of your wedded
husband." "Soul!" cried Undine, laughing; "that sounds very fine, and
for most people may be very edifying and moral advice. But if one has
no soul at all, pray how is one to keep watch over it? And that is my
case." The Priest was deeply hurt, and turned away his face in mingled
sorrow and anger. But she came up to him beseechingly, and said, "Nay,
hear me before you are angry, for it grieves me to see you displeased,
and you would not distress any creature who has done you no harm. Only
have patience with me, and I will tell you all, from the beginning."
They saw she was preparing to give them a regular history; but she
stopped short, appearing thrilled by some secret recollection, and
burst into a flood of gentle tears. They were quite at a loss what to
think of her, and gazed upon her, distressed from various causes. At
length drying her eyes, she looked at the Priest earnestly and said,
"There must be much to love in a soul, but much that is awful too. For
God's sake, holy father, tell me--were it not better to be still
without one?" She waited breathlessly for an answer, restraining her
tears. Her hearers had all risen from their seats, and now stepped
back from her, shuddering. She seemed to have no eyes but for the
saintly man; her countenance assumed an expression of anxiety and awe
which yet more alarmed the others. "Heavy must be the burden of a
soul," added she, as no one answered her--"heavy indeed! for the mere
approach of mine over-shadows me with anxious melancholy. And ah! how
light-hearted, how joyous I used to be!" A fresh burst of weeping
overcame her, and she covered her face with her veil.
The Priest then approached her with much gravity, and adjured her by
the holiest names to confess the truth, if any evil lurked in her,
unknown to them. But she fell on her knees before him, repeated after
him all his words of piety, gave praise to God, and declared she was
in charity with all the world. The Priest turned to the young Knight.
"Sir bridegroom," said he, "I leave you alone with her whom I have
made your wife. As far as I can discover, there is no evil, although
much that is mysterious, in her. I exhort you to be sober, loving, and
faithful." So he went out; and the old people followed; crossing
themselves.
Undine was still on her knees; she uncovered her face and looked
timidly at Huldbrand, saying, "Ah, thou wilt surely cast me off now;
and yet I have done nothing wrong, poor, poor child that I am!" This
she said with so touching and gentle an expression, that her husband
forgot all the gloom and mystery that had chilled his heart; he
hastened toward, her and raised her in his arms. She smiled through
her tears--it was like the glow of dawn shining upon a clear fountain.
"Thou canst not forsake me!" whispered she, in accents of the firmest
reliance; and she stroked his cheeks with her soft little hands. He
tried to shake off the gloomy thoughts which still lurked in a corner
of his mind, suggesting to him that he had married a fairy, or some
shadowy being from the world of spirits: one question, however, he
could not help asking: "My dear little Undine, just tell me one thing:
what was that you said about spirits of earth, and Kühleborn, when the
Priest knocked at the door?"--"All nonsense!" said Undine, laughing,
with her usual gayety. "First I frightened you with it, and then you
frightened me. And that is the end of the story, and of our
wedding-day!"