{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_2825/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_2825","id":"gutenberg_2825","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/2825","summary":null,"tags":["Category: German Literature","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Novels","Category: Romance","Category: Science-Fiction & Fantasy","Fairy tales -- Germany","Fantasy fiction","Knights and knighthood -- Fiction","Love stories","Romances -- Translations into English","Water spirits -- Fiction"],"text":"Produced by Sandra Laythorpe\n\n\n\n\n\nUNDINE\n\nBy Friedrich de la Motte Fouque\n\nWith foreword by Charlotte M Yonge\n\n\n\n\nIntroduction\n\n\n\n\nFour tales are, it is said, intended by the Author to be appropriate to\nthe Four Seasons: the stern, grave \u201cSintram\u201d, to winter; the tearful,\nsmiling, fresh \u201cUndine\u201d, to Spring; the torrid deserts of the \u201cTwo\nCaptains\u201d, to summer; and the sunset gold of \u201cAslauga\u2019s Knight\u201d, to\nautumn. Of these two are before us.\n\nThe author of these tales, as well as of many more, was Friedrich, Baron\nde la Motte Fouque, one of the foremost of the minstrels or tale-tellers\nof the realm of spiritual chivalry--the realm whither Arthur\u2019s knights\ndeparted when they \u201ctook the Sancgreal\u2019s holy quest,\u201d--whence Spenser\u2019s\nRed Cross knight and his fellows came forth on their adventures, and in\nwhich the Knight of la Mancha believed, and endeavoured to exist.\n\nLa Motte Fouque derived his name and his title from the French Huguenot\nancestry, who had fled on the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes. His\nChristian name was taken from his godfather, Frederick the Great,\nof whom his father was a faithful friend, without compromising his\nreligious principles and practice. Friedrich was born at Brandenburg on\nFebruary 12, 1777, was educated by good parents at home, served in the\nPrussian army through disaster and success, took an enthusiastic part\nin the rising of his country against Napoleon, inditing as many\nbattle-songs as Korner. When victory was achieved, he dedicated his\nsword in the church of Neunhausen where his estate lay. He lived there,\nwith his beloved wife and his imagination, till his death in 1843.\n\nAnd all the time life was to him a poet\u2019s dream. He lived in a continual\nglamour of spiritual romance, bathing everything, from the old deities\nof the Valhalla down to the champions of German liberation, in an ideal\nglow of purity and nobleness, earnestly Christian throughout, even in\nhis dealings with Northern mythology, for he saw Christ unconsciously\nshown in Baldur, and Satan in Loki.\n\nThus he lived, felt, and believed what he wrote, and though his dramas\nand poems do not rise above fair mediocrity, and the great number of his\nprose stories are injured by a certain monotony, the charm of them is\nin their elevation of sentiment and the earnest faith pervading all. His\nknights might be Sir Galahad--\n\n\n            \u201cMy strength is as the strength of ten,\n             Because my heart is pure.\u201d\n\n\nEvil comes to them as something to be conquered, generally as a form of\nmagic enchantment, and his \u201cwondrous fair maidens\u201d are worthy of them.\nYet there is adventure enough to afford much pleasure, and often we have\na touch of true genius, which has given actual ideas to the world, and\nprecious ones.\n\nThis genius is especially traceable in his two masterpieces, Sintram and\nUndine. Sintram was inspired by Albert Durer\u2019s engraving of the \u201cKnight\nof Death,\u201d of which we give a presentation. It was sent to Fouque by his\nfriend Edward Hitzig, with a request that he would compose a ballad\non it. The date of the engraving is 1513, and we quote the description\ngiven by the late Rev. R. St. John Tyrwhitt, showing how differently it\nmay be read.\n\n\u201cSome say it is the end of the strong wicked man, just overtaken by\nDeath and Sin, whom he has served on earth. It is said that the tuft on\nthe lance indicates his murderous character, being of such unusual size.\nYou know the use of that appendage was to prevent blood running down\nfrom the spearhead to the hands. They also think that the object under\nthe horse\u2019s off hind foot is a snare, into which the old oppressor is\nto fall instantly. The expression of the faces may be taken either way:\nboth good men and bad may have hard, regular features; and both good men\nand bad would set their teeth grimly on seeing Death, with the sands of\ntheir life nearly run out. Some say they think the expression of Death\ngentle, or only admonitory (as the author of \u201cSintram\u201d); and I have to\nthank the authoress of the \u201cHeir of Redclyffe\u201d for showing me a fine\nimpression of the plate, where Death certainly had a not ungentle\ncountenance--snakes and all. I think the shouldered lance, and quiet,\nfirm seat on horseback, with gentle bearing on the curb-bit, indicate\ngrave resolution in the rider, and that a robber knight would have his\nlance in rest; then there is the leafy crown on the horse\u2019s head; and\nthe horse and dog move on so quietly, that I am inclined to hope the\nbest for the Ritter.\u201d\n\nMusing on the mysterious engraving, Fouque saw in it the life-long\ncompanions of man, Death and Sin, whom he must defy in order to reach\nsalvation; and out of that contemplation rose his wonderful romance,\nnot exactly an allegory, where every circumstance can be fitted with an\nappropriate meaning, but with the sense of the struggle of life, with\nexternal temptation and hereditary inclination pervading all, while\nGrace and Prayer aid the effort. Folko and Gabrielle are revived from\nthe Magic Ring, that Folko may by example and influence enhance all\nhigher resolutions; while Gabrielle, in all unconscious innocence,\nawakes the passions, and thus makes the conquest the harder.\n\nIt is within the bounds of possibility that the similarities of\nfolk-lore may have brought to Fouque\u2019s knowledge the outline of the\nstory which Scott tells us was the germ of \u201cGuy Mannering\u201d; where a boy,\nwhose horoscope had been drawn by an astrologer, as likely to encounter\npeculiar trials at certain intervals, actually had, in his twenty-first\nyear, a sort of visible encounter with the Tempter, and came off\nconqueror by his strong faith in the Bible. Sir Walter, between\nreverence and realism, only took the earlier part of the story, but\nFouque gives us the positive struggle, and carries us along with the\nfinal victory and subsequent peace. His tale has had a remarkable power\nover the readers. We cannot but mention two remarkable instances at\neither end of the scale. Cardinal Newman, in his younger days, was\nso much overcome by it that he hurried out into the garden to read it\nalone, and returned with traces of emotion in his face. And when Charles\nLowder read it to his East End boys, their whole minds seemed engrossed\nby it, and they even called certain spots after the places mentioned.\nImagine the Rocks of the Moon in Ratcliff Highway!\n\nMay we mention that Miss Christabel Coleridge\u2019s \u201cWaynflete\u201d brings\nsomething of the spirit and idea of \u201cSintram\u201d into modern life?\n\n\u201cUndine\u201d is a story of much lighter fancy, and full of a peculiar grace,\nthough with a depth of melancholy that endears it. No doubt it\nwas founded on the universal idea in folk-lore of the nixies or\nwater-spirits, one of whom, in Norwegian legend, was seen weeping\nbitterly because of the want of a soul. Sometimes the nymph is a wicked\nsiren like the Lorelei; but in many of these tales she weds an earthly\nlover, and deserts him after a time, sometimes on finding her diving\ncap, or her seal-skin garment, which restores her to her ocean kindred,\nsometimes on his intruding on her while she is under a periodical\ntransformation, as with the fairy Melusine, more rarely if he becomes\nunfaithful.\n\nThere is a remarkable Cornish tale of a nymph or mermaiden, who thus\nvanished, leaving a daughter who loved to linger on the beach rather\nthan sport with other children. By and by she had a lover, but no sooner\ndid he show tokens of inconstancy, than the mother came up from the sea\nand put him to death, when the daughter pined away and died. Her name\nwas Selina, which gives the tale a modern aspect, and makes us wonder\nif the old tradition can have been modified by some report of Undine\u2019s\nstory.\n\nThere was an idea set forth by the Rosicrucians of spirits abiding in\nthe elements, and as Undine represented the water influences, Fouque\u2019s\nwife, the Baroness Caroline, wrote a fairly pretty story on the sylphs\nof fire. But Undine\u2019s freakish playfulness and mischief as an elemental\nbeing, and her sweet patience when her soul is won, are quite\noriginal, and indeed we cannot help sharing, or at least understanding,\nHuldbrand\u2019s beginning to shrink from the unearthly creature to something\nof his own flesh and blood. He is altogether unworthy, and though in\nthis tale there is far less of spiritual meaning than in Sintram, we\ncannot but see that Fouque\u2019s thought was that the grosser human nature\nis unable to appreciate what is absolutely pure and unearthly.\n\nC. M. YONGE.\n\n\n\n\nUNDINE\n\nby Friedrich de la Motte Fouque\n\n\n\n\nTO UNDINE\n\n\nUndine! thou fair and lovely sprite, Since first from out an ancient lay\nI saw gleam forth thy fitful light, How hast thou sung my cares away!\n\nHow hast thou nestled next my heart, And gently offered to impart Thy\nsorrows to my listening ear, Like a half-shy, half-trusting child, The\nwhile my lute, in wood-notes wild, Thine accents echoed far and near!\n\nThen many a youth I won to muse With love on thy mysterious ways, With\nmany a fair one to peruse The legend of thy wondrous days.\n\nAnd now both dame and youth would fain List to my tale yet once again;\nNay, sweet Undine, be not afraid! Enter their halls with footsteps\nlight, Greet courteously each noble knight, But fondly every German\nmaid.\n\nAnd should they ask concerning me, Oh, say, \u201cHe is a cavalier, Who truly\nserves and valiantly, In tourney and festivity, With lute and sword,\neach lady fair!\u201d\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER 1\n\n\n\nOn a beautiful evening, many hundred years ago, a worthy old fisherman\nsat mending his nets. The spot where he dwelt was exceedingly\npicturesque. The green turf on which he had built his cottage ran far\nout into a great lake; and this slip of verdure appeared to stretch into\nit as much through love of its clear waters as the lake, moved by a like\nimpulse, strove to fold the meadow, with its waving grass and flowers,\nand the cooling shade of the trees, in its embrace of love. They seemed\nto be drawn toward each other, and the one to be visiting the other as a\nguest.\n\nWith respect to human beings, indeed, in this pleasant spot, excepting\nthe fisherman and his family, there were few, or rather none, to be\nmet with. For as in the background of the scene, toward the west and\nnorth-west, lay a forest of extraordinary wildness, which, owing to its\nsunless gloom and almost impassable recesses, as well as to fear of the\nstrange creatures and visionary illusions to be encountered in it, most\npeople avoided entering, unless in cases of extreme necessity. The pious\nold fisherman, however, many times passed through it without harm, when\nhe carried the fine fish which he caught by his beautiful strip of land\nto a great city lying only a short distance beyond the forest.\n\nNow the reason he was able to go through this wood with so much ease may\nhave been chiefly this, because he entertained scarcely any thoughts but\nsuch as were of a religious nature; and besides, every time he crossed\nthe evil-reported shades, he used to sing some holy song with a clear\nvoice and from a sincere heart.\n\nWell, while he sat by his nets this evening, neither fearing nor\ndevising evil, a sudden terror seized him, as he heard a rushing in the\ndarkness of the wood, that resembled the tramping of a mounted steed,\nand the noise continued every instant drawing nearer and nearer to his\nlittle territory.\n\nWhat he had fancied, when abroad in many a stormy night, respecting\nthe mysteries of the forest, now flashed through his mind in a moment,\nespecially the figure of a man of gigantic stature and snow-white\nappearance, who kept nodding his head in a portentous manner. And when\nhe raised his eyes towards the wood, the form came before him in perfect\ndistinctness, as he saw the nodding man burst forth from the mazy\nweb-work of leaves and branches. But he immediately felt emboldened,\nwhen he reflected that nothing to give him alarm had ever befallen him\neven in the forest; and moreover, that on this open neck of land the\nevil spirit, it was likely, would be still less daring in the exercise\nof his power. At the same time he prayed aloud with the most earnest\nsincerity of devotion, repeating a passage of the Bible. This inspired\nhim with fresh courage, and soon perceiving the illusion, and the\nstrange mistake into which his imagination had betrayed him, he could\nwith difficulty refrain from laughing. The white nodding figure he had\nseen became transformed, in the twinkling of an eye, to what in reality\nit was, a small brook, long and familiarly known to him, which ran\nfoaming from the forest, and discharged itself into the lake.\n\nBut what had caused the startling sound was a knight arrayed in\nsumptuous apparel, who from under the shadows of the trees came riding\ntoward the cottage. His doublet was violet embroidered with gold, and\nhis scarlet cloak hung gracefully over it; on his cap of burnished gold\nwaved red and violet-coloured plumes; and in his golden shoulder-belt\nflashed a sword, richly ornamented, and extremely beautiful. The white\nbarb that bore the knight was more slenderly built than war-horses\nusually are, and he touched the turf with a step so light and elastic\nthat the green and flowery carpet seemed hardly to receive the slightest\ninjury from his tread. The old fisherman, notwithstanding, did not feel\nperfectly secure in his mind, although he was forced to believe that no\nevil could be feared from an appearance so pleasing, and therefore, as\ngood manners dictated, he took off his hat on the knight\u2019s coming near,\nand quietly remained by the side of his nets.\n\nWhen the stranger stopped, and asked whether he, with his horse, could\nhave shelter and entertainment there for the night, the fisherman\nreturned answer: \u201cAs to your horse, fair sir, I have no better stable\nfor him than this shady meadow, and no better provender than the grass\nthat is growing here. But with respect to yourself, you shall be welcome\nto our humble cottage, and to the best supper and lodging we are able to\ngive you.\u201d\n\nThe knight was well contented with this reception; and alighting from\nhis horse, which his host assisted him to relieve from saddle and\nbridle, he let him hasten away to the fresh pasture, and thus spoke:\n\u201cEven had I found you less hospitable and kindly disposed, my worthy old\nfriend, you would still, I suspect, hardly have got rid of me to-day;\nfor here, I perceive, a broad lake lies before us, and as to riding back\ninto that wood of wonders, with the shades of evening deepening around\nme, may Heaven in its grace preserve me from the thought.\u201d\n\n\u201cPray, not a word of the wood, or of returning into it!\u201d said the\nfisherman, and took his guest into the cottage.\n\nThere beside the hearth, from which a frugal fire was diffusing its\nlight through the clean twilight room, sat the fisherman\u2019s aged wife in\na great chair. At the entrance of their noble guest, she rose and gave\nhim a courteous welcome, but sat down again in her seat of honour,\nnot making the slightest offer of it to the stranger. Upon this the\nfisherman said with a smile:\n\n\u201cYou must not be offended with her, young gentleman, because she has not\ngiven up to you the best chair in the house; it is a custom among poor\npeople to look upon this as the privilege of the aged.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, husband!\u201d cried the old lady, with a quiet smile, \u201cwhere can your\nwits be wandering? Our guest, to say the least of him, must belong to\na Christian country; and how is it possible, then, that so well-bred\na young man as he appears to be could dream of driving old people from\ntheir chairs? Take a seat, my young master,\u201d continued she, turning to\nthe knight; \u201cthere is still quite a snug little chair on the other side\nof the room there, only be careful not to shove it about too roughly,\nfor one of its legs, I fear, is none of the firmest.\u201d\n\nThe knight brought up the seat as carefully as she could desire, sat\ndown upon it good-humouredly, and it seemed to him almost as if he must\nbe somehow related to this little household, and have just returned home\nfrom abroad.\n\nThese three worthy people now began to converse in the most friendly and\nfamiliar manner. In relation to the forest, indeed, concerning which the\nknight occasionally made some inquiries, the old man chose to know and\nsay but little; he was of opinion that slightly touching upon it at\nthis hour of twilight was most suitable and safe; but of the cares and\ncomforts of their home, and their business abroad, the aged couple\nspoke more freely, and listened also with eager curiosity as the knight\nrecounted to them his travels, and how he had a castle near one of\nthe sources of the Danube, and that his name was Sir Huldbrand of\nRingstetten.\n\nAlready had the stranger, while they were in the midst of their talk,\nheard at times a splash against the little low window, as if some one\nwere dashing water against it. The old man, every time he heard the\nnoise, knit his brows with vexation; but at last, when the whole sweep\nof a shower came pouring like a torrent against the panes, and bubbling\nthrough the decayed frame into the room, he started up indignant, rushed\nto the window, and cried with a threatening voice--\n\n\u201cUndine! will you never leave off these fooleries?--not even to-day,\nwhen we have a stranger knight with us in the cottage?\u201d\n\nAll without now became still, only a low laugh was just audible, and\nthe fisherman said, as he came back to his seat, \u201cYou will have the\ngoodness, my honoured guest, to pardon this freak, and it may be a\nmultitude more; but she has no thought of evil or of any harm. This\nmischievous Undine, to confess the truth, is our adopted daughter, and\nshe stoutly refuses to give over this frolicsome childishness of hers,\nalthough she has already entered her eighteenth year. But in spite of\nthis, as I said before, she is at heart one of the very best children in\nthe world.\u201d\n\n\u201cYOU may say so,\u201d broke in the old lady, shaking her head; \u201cyou can give\na better account of her than I can. When you return home from fishing,\nor from selling your fish in the city, you may think her frolics very\ndelightful, but to have her dancing about you the whole day long, and\nnever from morning to night to hear her speak one word of sense; and\nthen as she grows older, instead of having any help from her in the\nfamily, to find her a continual cause of anxiety, lest her wild humours\nshould completely ruin us, that is quite another thing, and enough at\nlast to weary out the patience even of a saint.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, well,\u201d replied the master of the house with a smile, \u201cyou have\nyour trials with Undine, and I have mine with the lake. The lake often\nbeats down my dams, and breaks the meshes of my nets, but for all that I\nhave a strong affection for it, and so have you, in spite of your mighty\ncrosses and vexations, for our graceful little child. Is it not true?\u201d\n\n\u201cOne cannot be very angry with her,\u201d answered the old lady, as she gave\nher husband an approving smile.\n\nThat instant the door flew open, and a fair girl, of wondrous beauty,\nsprang laughing in, and said, \u201cYou have only been making a mock of me,\nfather; for where now is the guest you mentioned?\u201d\n\nThe same moment, however, she perceived the knight also, and continued\nstanding before the young man in fixed astonishment. Huldbrand was\ncharmed with her graceful figure, and viewed her lovely features with\nthe more intense interest, as he imagined it was only her surprise that\nallowed him the opportunity, and that she would soon turn away from his\ngaze with increased bashfulness. But the event was the very reverse of\nwhat he expected; for, after looking at him for a long while, she became\nmore confident, moved nearer, knelt down before him, and while she\nplayed with a gold medal which he wore attached to a rich chain on his\nbreast, exclaimed,\n\n\u201cWhy, you beautiful, you kind guest! how have you reached our poor\ncottage at last? Have you been obliged for years and years to wander\nabout the world before you could catch one glimpse of our nook? Do you\ncome out of that wild forest, my beautiful knight?\u201d\n\nThe old woman was so prompt in her reproof as to allow him no time to\nanswer. She commanded the maiden to rise, show better manners, and go to\nher work. But Undine, without making any reply, drew a little footstool\nnear Huldbrand\u2019s chair, sat down upon it with her netting, and said in a\ngentle tone--\n\n\u201cI will work here.\u201d\n\nThe old man did as parents are apt to do with children to whom they have\nbeen over-indulgent. He affected to observe nothing of Undine\u2019s strange\nbehaviour, and was beginning to talk about something else. But this the\nmaiden did not permit him to do. She broke in upon him, \u201cI have asked\nour kind guest from whence he has come among us, and he has not yet\nanswered me.\u201d\n\n\u201cI come out of the forest, you lovely little vision,\u201d Huldbrand\nreturned; and she spoke again:\n\n\u201cYou must also tell me how you came to enter that forest, so feared and\nshunned, and the marvellous adventures you met with in it; for there is\nno escaping without something of this kind.\u201d\n\nHuldbrand felt a slight shudder on remembering what he had witnessed,\nand looked involuntarily toward the window, for it seemed to him that\none of the strange shapes which had come upon him in the forest must be\nthere grinning in through the glass; but he discerned nothing except the\ndeep darkness of night, which had now enveloped the whole prospect. Upon\nthis he became more collected, and was just on the point of beginning\nhis account, when the old man thus interrupted him:\n\n\u201cNot so, sir knight; this is by no means a fit hour for such relations.\u201d\n\nBut Undine, in a state of high excitement, sprang up from her little\nstool and cried, placing herself directly before the fisherman: \u201cHe\nshall NOT tell his story, father? he shall not? But it is my will:--he\nshall!--stop him who may!\u201d\n\nThus speaking, she stamped her little foot vehemently on the floor,\nbut all with an air of such comic and good-humoured simplicity, that\nHuldbrand now found it quite as hard to withdraw his gaze from her wild\nemotion as he had before from her gentleness and beauty. The old man,\non the contrary, burst out in unrestrained displeasure. He severely\nreproved Undine for her disobedience and her unbecoming carriage towards\nthe stranger, and his good old wife joined him in harping on the same\nstring.\n\nBy these rebukes Undine was only excited the more. \u201cIf you want to\nquarrel with me,\u201d she cried, \u201cand will not let me hear what I so much\ndesire, then sleep alone in your smoky old hut!\u201d And swift as an arrow\nshe shot from the door, and vanished amid the darkness of the night.\n\nHuldbrand and the fisherman sprang from their seats, and were rushing to\nstop the angry girl; but before they could reach the cottage-door, she\nhad disappeared in the stormy darkness without, and no sound, not so\nmuch even as that of her light footstep, betrayed the course she had\ntaken. Huldbrand threw a glance of inquiry towards his host; it almost\nseemed to him as if the whole of the sweet apparition, which had so\nsuddenly plunged again amid the night, were no other than a continuation\nof the wonderful forms that had just played their mad pranks with him in\nthe forest. But the old man muttered between his teeth,\n\n\u201cThis is not the first time she has treated us in this manner. Now must\nour hearts be filled with anxiety, and our eyes find no sleep for the\nwhole night; for who can assure us, in spite of her past escapes, that\nshe will not some time or other come to harm, if she thus continue out\nin the dark and alone until daylight?\u201d\n\n\u201cThen pray, for God\u2019s sake, father, let us follow her,\u201d cried Huldbrand\nanxiously.\n\n\u201cWherefore should we?\u201d replied the old man. \u201cIt would be a sin were I\nto suffer you, all alone, to search after the foolish girl amid the\nlonesomeness of night; and my old limbs would fail to carry me to this\nwild rover, even if I knew to what place she has betaken herself.\u201d\n\n\u201cStill we ought at least to call after her, and beg her to return,\u201d said\nHuldbrand; and he began to call in tones of earnest entreaty, \u201cUndine!\nUndine! come back, come back!\u201d\n\nThe old man shook his head, and said, \u201cAll your shouting, however loud\nand long, will be of no avail; you know not as yet, sir knight, how\nself-willed the little thing is.\u201d But still, even hoping against hope,\nhe could not himself cease calling out every minute, amid the gloom of\nnight, \u201cUndine! ah, dear Undine! I beseech you, pray come back--only\nthis once.\u201d\n\nIt turned out, however, exactly as the fisherman had said. No Undine\ncould they hear or see; and as the old man would on no account consent\nthat Huldbrand should go in quest of the fugitive, they were both\nobliged at last to return into the cottage. There they found the fire\non the hearth almost gone out, and the mistress of the house, who took\nUndine\u2019s flight and danger far less to heart than her husband, had\nalready gone to rest. The old man blew up the coals, put on dry wood,\nand by the firelight hunted for a flask of wine, which he brought and\nset between himself and his guest.\n\n\u201cYou, sir knight, as well as I,\u201d said he, \u201care anxious on the silly\ngirl\u2019s account; and it would be better, I think, to spend part of the\nnight in chatting and drinking, than keep turning and turning on our\nrush-mats, and trying in vain to sleep. What is your opinion?\u201d\n\nHuldbrand was well pleased with the plan; the fisherman pressed him to\ntake the empty seat of honour, its late occupant having now left it for\nher couch; and they relished their beverage and enjoyed their chat as\ntwo such good men and true ever ought to do. To be sure, whenever the\nslightest thing moved before the windows, or at times when even nothing\nwas moving, one of them would look up and exclaim, \u201cHere she comes!\u201d\n Then would they continue silent a few moments, and afterward, when\nnothing appeared, would shake their heads, breathe out a sigh, and go on\nwith their talk.\n\nBut, as neither could think of anything but Undine, the best plan they\ncould devise was, that the old fisherman should relate, and the knight\nshould hear, in what manner Undine had come to the cottage. So the\nfisherman began as follows:\n\n\u201cIt is now about fifteen years since I one day crossed the wild forest\nwith fish for the city market. My wife had remained at home as she was\nwont to do; and at this time for a reason of more than common interest,\nfor although we were beginning to feel the advances of age, God had\nbestowed upon us an infant of wonderful beauty. It was a little girl;\nand we already began to ask ourselves the question, whether we ought\nnot, for the advantage of the new-comer, to quit our solitude, and, the\nbetter to bring up this precious gift of Heaven, to remove to some more\ninhabited place. Poor people, to be sure, cannot in these cases do all\nyou may think they ought, sir knight; but we must all do what we can.\n\n\u201cWell, I went on my way, and this affair would keep running in my head.\nThis slip of land was most dear to me, and I trembled when, amidst\nthe bustle and broils of the city, I thought to myself, \u2018In a scene of\ntumult like this, or at least in one not much more quiet, I must soon\ntake up my abode.\u2019 But I did not for this murmur against our good God;\non the contrary, I praised Him in silence for the new-born babe. I\nshould also speak an untruth, were I to say that anything befell me,\neither on my passage through the forest to the city, or on my returning\nhomeward, that gave me more alarm than usual, as at that time I had\nnever seen any appearance there which could terrify or annoy me. The\nLord was ever with me in those awful shades.\u201d\n\nThus speaking he took his cap reverently from his bald head, and\ncontinued to sit for a considerable time in devout thought. He then\ncovered himself again, and went on with his relation.\n\n\u201cOn this side the forest, alas! it was on this side, that woe burst upon\nme. My wife came wildly to meet me, clad in mourning apparel, and her\neyes streaming with tears. \u2018Gracious God!\u2019 I cried, \u2018where\u2019s our child?\nSpeak!\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018With Him on whom you have called, dear husband,\u2019 she answered, and we\nnow entered the cottage together, weeping in silence. I looked for the\nlittle corpse, almost fearing to find what I was seeking; and then it\nwas I first learnt how all had happened.\n\n\u201cMy wife had taken the little one in her arms, and walked out to the\nshore of the lake. She there sat down by its very brink; and while she\nwas playing with the infant, as free from all fear as she was full\nof delight, it bent forward on a sudden, as if seeing something very\nbeautiful in the water. My wife saw her laugh, the dear angel, and try\nto catch the image in her tiny hands; but in a moment--with a motion\nswifter than sight--she sprang from her mother\u2019s arms, and sank in the\nlake, the watery glass into which she had been gazing. I searched\nfor our lost darling again and again; but it was all in vain; I could\nnowhere find the least trace of her.\n\n\u201cThe same evening we childless parents were sitting together by our\ncottage hearth. We had no desire to talk, even if our tears would have\npermitted us. As we thus sat in mournful stillness, gazing into the\nfire, all at once we heard something without,--a slight rustling at the\ndoor. The door flew open, and we saw a little girl, three or four years\nold, and more beautiful than I can say, standing on the threshold,\nrichly dressed, and smiling upon us. We were struck dumb with\nastonishment, and I knew not for a time whether the tiny form were a\nreal human being, or a mere mockery of enchantment. But I soon perceived\nwater dripping from her golden hair and rich garments, and that the\npretty child had been lying in the water, and stood in immediate need of\nour help.\n\n\u201c\u2018Wife,\u2019 said I, \u2018no one has been able to save our child for us; but let\nus do for others what would have made us so blessed could any one have\ndone it for us.\u2019\n\n\u201cWe undressed the little thing, put her to bed, and gave her something\nto drink; at all this she spoke not a word, but only turned her eyes\nupon us--eyes blue and bright as sea or sky--and continued looking at us\nwith a smile.\n\n\u201cNext morning we had no reason to fear that she had received any other\nharm than her wetting, and I now asked her about her parents, and how\nshe could have come to us. But the account she gave was both confused\nand incredible. She must surely have been born far from here, not only\nbecause I have been unable for these fifteen years to learn anything\nof her birth, but because she then said, and at times continues to say,\nmany things of so very singular a nature, that we neither of us know,\nafter all, whether she may not have dropped among us from the moon; for\nher talk runs upon golden castles, crystal domes, and Heaven knows what\nextravagances beside. What, however, she related with most distinctness\nwas this: that while she was once taking a sail with her mother on the\ngreat lake, she fell out of the boat into the water; and that when she\nfirst recovered her senses, she was here under our trees, where the gay\nscenes of the shore filled her with delight.\n\n\u201cWe now had another care weighing upon our minds, and one that caused us\nno small perplexity and uneasiness. We of course very soon determined\nto keep and bring up the child we had found, in place of our own darling\nthat had been drowned; but who could tell us whether she had been\nbaptized or not? She herself could give us no light on the subject. When\nwe asked her the question, she commonly made answer, that she well knew\nshe was created for God\u2019s praise and glory, and that she was willing to\nlet us do with her all that might promote His glory and praise.\n\n\u201cMy wife and I reasoned in this way: \u2018If she has not been baptized,\nthere can be no use in putting off the ceremony; and if she has been, it\nstill is better to have too much of a good thing than too little.\u2019\n\n\u201cTaking this view of our difficulty, we now endeavoured to hit upon a\ngood name for the child, since, while she remained without one, we were\noften at a loss, in our familiar talk, to know what to call her. We at\nlength agreed that Dorothea would be most suitable for her, as I had\nsomewhere heard it said that this name signified a gift of God, and\nsurely she had been sent to us by Providence as a gift, to comfort us\nin our misery. She, on the contrary, would not so much as hear Dorothea\nmentioned; she insisted, that as she had been named Undine by her\nparents, Undine she ought still to be called. It now occurred to me that\nthis was a heathenish name, to be found in no calendar, and I resolved\nto ask the advice of a priest in the city. He would not listen to the\nname of Undine; and yielding to my urgent request, he came with me\nthrough the enchanted forest in order to perform the rite of baptism\nhere in my cottage.\n\n\u201cThe little maid stood before us so prettily adorned, and with such an\nair of gracefulness, that the heart of the priest softened at once in\nher presence; and she coaxed him so sweetly, and jested with him so\nmerrily, that he at last remembered nothing of his many objections to\nthe name of Undine.\n\n\u201cThus, then, was she baptized Undine; and during the holy ceremony she\nbehaved with great propriety and gentleness, wild and wayward as at\nother times she invariably was; for in this my wife was quite right,\nwhen she mentioned the anxiety the child has occasioned us. If I should\nrelate to you--\u201d\n\nAt this moment the knight interrupted the fisherman, to direct his\nattention to a deep sound as of a rushing flood, which had caught his\near during the talk of the old man. And now the waters came pouring on\nwith redoubled fury before the cottage-windows. Both sprang to the door.\nThere they saw, by the light of the now risen moon, the brook which\nissued from the wood rushing wildly over its banks, and whirling onward\nwith it both stones and branches of trees in its rapid course. The\nstorm, as if awakened by the uproar, burst forth from the clouds, whose\nimmense masses of vapour coursed over the moon with the swiftness of\nthought; the lake roared beneath the wind that swept the foam from its\nwaves; while the trees of this narrow peninsula groaned from root to\ntopmost branch as they bowed and swung above the torrent.\n\n\u201cUndine! in God\u2019s name, Undine!\u201d cried the two men in an agony. No\nanswer was returned. And now, regardless of everything else, they\nhurried from the cottage, one in this direction, the other in that,\nsearching and calling.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER 2\n\n\n\nThe longer Huldbrand sought Undine beneath the shades of night, and\nfailed to find her, the more anxious and confused he became. The\nimpression that she was a mere phantom of the forest gained a new\nascendency over him; indeed, amid the howling of the waves and the\ntempest, the crashing of the trees, and the entire change of the once\nso peaceful and beautiful scene, he was tempted to view the whole\npeninsula, together with the cottage and its inhabitants, as little\nmore than some mockery of his senses. But still he heard afar off the\nfisherman\u2019s anxious and incessant shouting, \u201cUndine!\u201d and also his aged\nwife, who was praying and singing psalms.\n\nAt length, when he drew near to the brook, which had overflowed its\nbanks, he perceived by the moonlight, that it had taken its wild course\ndirectly in front of the haunted forest, so as to change the peninsula\ninto an island.\n\n\u201cMerciful God!\u201d he breathed to himself, \u201cif Undine has ventured a step\nwithin that fearful wood, what will become of her? Perhaps it was all\nowing to her sportive and wayward spirit, because I would give her no\naccount of my adventures there. And now the stream is rolling between\nus, she may be weeping alone on the other side in the midst of spectral\nhorrors!\u201d\n\nA shuddering groan escaped him; and clambering over some stones and\ntrunks of overthrown pines, in order to step into the impetuous current,\nhe resolved, either by wading or swimming, to seek the wanderer on the\nfurther shore. He felt, it is true, all the dread and shrinking awe\ncreeping over him which he had already suffered by daylight among the\nnow tossing and roaring branches of the forest. More than all, a tall\nman in white, whom he knew but too well, met his view, as he stood\ngrinning and nodding on the grass beyond the water. But even monstrous\nforms like this only impelled him to cross over toward them, when the\nthought rushed upon him that Undine might be there alone and in the\nagony of death.\n\nHe had already grasped a strong branch of a pine, and stood supporting\nhimself upon it in the whirling current, against which he could\nwith difficulty keep himself erect; but he advanced deeper in with a\ncourageous spirit. That instant a gentle voice of warning cried near\nhim, \u201cDo not venture, do not venture!--that OLD MAN, the STREAM, is too\nfull of tricks to be trusted!\u201d He knew the soft tones of the voice; and\nwhile he stood as it were entranced beneath the shadows which had now\nduskily veiled the moon, his head swam with the swelling and rolling\nof the waves as he saw them momentarily rising above his knee. Still he\ndisdained the thought of giving up his purpose.\n\n\u201cIf you are not really there, if you are merely gambolling round me like\na mist, may I, too, bid farewell to life, and become a shadow like you,\ndear, dear Undine!\u201d Thus calling aloud, he again moved deeper into\nthe stream. \u201cLook round you--ah, pray look round you, beautiful young\nstranger! why rush on death so madly?\u201d cried the voice a second time\nclose by him; and looking on one side he perceived, by the light of\nthe moon, again cloudless, a little island formed by the flood; and\ncrouching upon its flowery turf, beneath the branches of embowering\ntrees, he saw the smiling and lovely Undine.\n\nO how much more gladly than before the young man now plied his sturdy\nstaff! A few steps, and he had crossed the flood that was rushing\nbetween himself and the maiden; and he stood near her on the little spot\nof greensward in security, protected by the old trees. Undine half rose,\nand she threw her arms around his neck to draw him gently down upon the\nsoft seat by her side.\n\n\u201cHere you shall tell me your story, my beautiful friend,\u201d she breathed\nin a low whisper; \u201chere the cross old people cannot disturb us; and,\nbesides, our roof of leaves here will make quite as good a shelter as\ntheir poor cottage.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is heaven itself,\u201d cried Huldbrand; and folding her in his arms, he\nkissed the lovely girl with fervour.\n\nThe old fisherman, meantime, had come to the margin of the stream, and\nhe shouted across, \u201cWhy, how is this, sir knight! I received you with\nthe welcome which one true-hearted man gives to another; and now you\nsit there caressing my foster-child in secret, while you suffer me in my\nanxiety to wander through the night in quest of her.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot till this moment did I find her myself, old father,\u201d cried the\nknight across the water.\n\n\u201cSo much the better,\u201d said the fisherman, \u201cbut now make haste, and bring\nher over to me upon firm ground.\u201d\n\nTo this, however, Undine would by no means consent. She declared\nthat she would rather enter the wild forest itself with the beautiful\nstranger, than return to the cottage where she was so thwarted in her\nwishes, and from which the knight would soon or late go away. Then,\nthrowing her arms round Huldbrand, she sang the following verse with the\nwarbling sweetness of a bird:\n\n     \u201cA rill would leave its misty vale,\n     And fortunes wild explore,\n     Weary at length it reached the main,\n     And sought its vale no more.\u201d\n\nThe old fisherman wept bitterly at her song, but his emotion seemed to\nawaken little or no sympathy in her. She kissed and caressed her new\nfriend, who at last said to her: \u201cUndine, if the distress of the old man\ndoes not touch your heart, it cannot but move mine. We ought to return\nto him.\u201d\n\nShe opened her large blue eyes upon him in amazement, and spoke at last\nwith a slow and doubtful accent, \u201cIf you think so, it is well, all is\nright to me which you think right. But the old man over there must first\ngive me his promise that he will allow you, without objection, to\nrelate what you saw in the wood, and--well, other things will settle\nthemselves.\u201d\n\n\u201cCome--only come!\u201d cried the fisherman to her, unable to utter another\nword. At the same time he stretched his arms wide over the current\ntowards her, and to give her assurance that he would do what she\nrequired, nodded his head. This motion caused his white hair to fall\nstrangely over his face, and Huldbrand could not but remember the\nnodding white man of the forest. Without allowing anything, however, to\nproduce in him the least confusion, the young knight took the beautiful\ngirl in his arms, and bore her across the narrow channel which the\nstream had torn away between her little island and the solid shore.\nThe old man fell upon Undine\u2019s neck, and found it impossible either to\nexpress his joy or to kiss her enough; even the ancient dame came up and\nembraced the recovered girl most cordially. Every word of censure was\ncarefully avoided; the more so, indeed, as even Undine, forgetting her\nwaywardness, almost overwhelmed her foster-parents with caresses and the\nprattle of tenderness.\n\nWhen at length the excess of their joy at recovering their child had\nsubsided, morning had already dawned, shining upon the waters of the\nlake; the tempest had become hushed, the small birds sung merrily on the\nmoist branches.\n\nAs Undine now insisted upon hearing the recital of the knight\u2019s promised\nadventures, the aged couple readily agreed to her wish. Breakfast was\nbrought out beneath the trees which stood behind the cottage toward the\nlake on the north, and they sat down to it with contented hearts;\nUndine at the knight\u2019s feet on the grass. These arrangements being made,\nHuldbrand began his story in the following manner:--\n\n\u201cIt is now about eight days since I rode into the free imperial city\nwhich lies yonder on the farther side of the forest. Soon after my\narrival a splendid tournament and running at the ring took place there,\nand I spared neither my horse nor my lance in the encounters.\n\n\u201cOnce while I was pausing at the lists to rest from the brisk exercise,\nand was handing back my helmet to one of my attendants, a female figure\nof extraordinary beauty caught my attention, as, most magnificently\nattired, she stood looking on at one of the balconies. I learned, on\nmaking inquiry of a person near me, that the name of the young lady\nwas Bertalda, and that she was a foster-daughter of one of the powerful\ndukes of this country. She too, I observed, was gazing at me, and the\nconsequences were such as we young knights are wont to experience;\nwhatever success in riding I might have had before, I was now favoured\nwith still better fortune. That evening I was Bertalda\u2019s partner in the\ndance, and I enjoyed the same distinction during the remainder of the\nfestival.\u201d\n\nA sharp pain in his left hand, as it hung carelessly beside him, here\ninterrupted Huldbrand\u2019s relation, and drew his eye to the part affected.\nUndine had fastened her pearly teeth, and not without some keenness\ntoo, upon one of his fingers, appearing at the same time very gloomy\nand displeased. On a sudden, however, she looked up in his eyes with an\nexpression of tender melancholy, and whispered almost inaudibly,--\n\n\u201cIt is all your own fault.\u201d\n\nShe then covered her face; and the knight, strangely embarrassed and\nthoughtful, went on with his story.\n\n\u201cThis lady, Bertalda, of whom I spoke, is of a proud and wayward spirit.\nThe second day I saw her she pleased me by no means so much as she\nhad the first, and the third day still less. But I continued about her\nbecause she showed me more favour than she did any other knight, and\nit so happened that I playfully asked her to give me one of her gloves.\n\u2018When you have entered the haunted forest all alone,\u2019 said she; \u2018when\nyou have explored its wonders, and brought me a full account of them,\nthe glove is yours.\u2019 As to getting her glove, it was of no importance\nto me whatever, but the word had been spoken, and no honourable knight\nwould permit himself to be urged to such a proof of valour a second\ntime.\u201d\n\n\u201cI thought,\u201d said Undine, interrupting him, \u201cthat she loved you.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt did appear so,\u201d replied Huldbrand.\n\n\u201cWell!\u201d exclaimed the maiden, laughing, \u201cthis is beyond belief; she must\nbe very stupid. To drive from her one who was dear to her! And worse\nthan all, into that ill-omened wood! The wood and its mysteries, for all\nI should have cared, might have waited long enough.\u201d\n\n\u201cYesterday morning, then,\u201d pursued the knight, smiling kindly upon\nUndine, \u201cI set out from the city, my enterprise before me. The early\nlight lay rich upon the verdant turf. It shone so rosy on the slender\nboles of the trees, and there was so merry a whispering among the\nleaves, that in my heart I could not but laugh at people who feared\nmeeting anything to terrify them in a spot so delicious. \u2018I shall soon\npass through the forest, and as speedily return,\u2019 I said to myself, in\nthe overflow of joyous feeling, and ere I was well aware, I had entered\ndeep among the green shades, while of the plain that lay behind me I was\nno longer able to catch a glimpse.\n\n\u201cThen the conviction for the first time impressed me, that in a forest\nof so great extent I might very easily become bewildered, and that this,\nperhaps, might be the only danger which was likely to threaten those\nwho explored its recesses. So I made a halt, and turned myself in the\ndirection of the sun, which had meantime risen somewhat higher, and\nwhile I was looking up to observe it, I saw something black among the\nboughs of a lofty oak. My first thought was, \u2018It is a bear!\u2019 and I\ngrasped my weapon. The object then accosted me from above in a human\nvoice, but in a tone most harsh and hideous: \u2018If I, overhead here, do\nnot gnaw off these dry branches, Sir Noodle, what shall we have to roast\nyou with when midnight comes?\u2019 And with that it grinned, and made such a\nrattling with the branches that my courser became mad with affright,\nand rushed furiously forward with me before I had time to see distinctly\nwhat sort of a devil\u2019s beast it was.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou must not speak so,\u201d said the old fisherman, crossing himself. His\nwife did the same, without saying a word, and Undine, while her eye\nsparkled with delight, looked at the knight and said, \u201cThe best of the\nstory is, however, that as yet they have not roasted you! Go on, now,\nyou beautiful knight.\u201d\n\nThe knight then went on with his adventures. \u201cMy horse was so wild, that\nhe well-nigh rushed with me against limbs and trunks of trees. He was\ndripping with sweat through terror, heat, and the violent straining of\nhis muscles. Still he refused to slacken his career. At last, altogether\nbeyond my control, he took his course directly up a stony steep, when\nsuddenly a tall white man flashed before me, and threw himself athwart\nthe way my mad steed was taking. At this apparition he shuddered with\nnew affright, and stopped trembling. I took this chance of recovering my\ncommand of him, and now for the first time perceived that my deliverer,\nso far from being a white man, was only a brook of silver brightness,\nfoaming near me in its descent from the hill, while it crossed and\narrested my horse\u2019s course with its rush of waters.\u201d\n\n\u201cThanks, thanks, dear brook!\u201d cried Undine, clapping her little hands.\nBut the old man shook his head, and looked down in deep thought.\n\n\u201cHardly had I well settled myself in my saddle, and got the reins in my\ngrasp again,\u201d Huldbrand pursued, \u201cwhen a wizard-like dwarf of a man was\nalready standing at my side, diminutive and ugly beyond conception, his\ncomplexion of a brownish-yellow, and his nose scarcely smaller than the\nrest of him together. The fellow\u2019s mouth was slit almost from ear to\near, and he showed his teeth with a grinning smile of idiot courtesy,\nwhile he overwhelmed me with bows and scrapes innumerable. The farce now\nbecoming excessively irksome, I thanked him in the fewest words I could\nwell use, turned about my still trembling charger, and purposed either\nto seek another adventure, or, should I meet with none, to take my way\nback to the city; for the sun, during my wild chase, had passed the\nmeridian, and was now hastening toward the west. But this villain of\na dwarf sprang at the same instant, and, with a turn as rapid as\nlightning, stood before my horse again. \u2018Clear the way there!\u2019 I cried\nfiercely; \u2018the beast is wild, and will make nothing of running over\nyou.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Ay, ay,\u2019 cried the imp with a snarl, and snorting out a laugh still\nmore frightfully idiotic; \u2018pay me, first pay what you owe me. I stopped\nyour fine little nag for you; without my help, both you and he would be\nnow sprawling below there in that stony ravine. Hu! from what a horrible\nplunge I\u2019ve saved you!\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Well, don\u2019t make any more faces,\u2019 said I, \u2018but take your money and\nbe off, though every word you say is false. It was the brook there, you\nmiserable thing, and not you, that saved me,\u2019 and at the same time I\ndropped a piece of gold into his wizard cap, which he had taken from his\nhead while he was begging before me.\n\n\u201cI then trotted off and left him, but he screamed after me; and on a\nsudden, with inconceivable quickness, he was close by my side. I started\nmy horse into a gallop. He galloped on with me, though it seemed with\ngreat difficulty, and with a strange movement, half ludicrous and\nhalf horrible, forcing at the same time every limb and feature into\ndistortion, he held up the gold piece and screamed at every leap,\n\u2018Counterfeit! false! false coin! counterfeit!\u2019 and such was the strange\nsound that issued from his hollow breast, you would have supposed that\nat every scream he must have tumbled upon the ground dead. All this\nwhile his disgusting red tongue hung lolling from his mouth.\n\n\u201cI stopped bewildered, and asked, \u2018What do you mean by this screaming?\nTake another piece of gold, take two, but leave me.\u2019\n\n\u201cHe then began again his hideous salutations of courtesy, and snarled\nout as before, \u2018Not gold, it shall not be gold, my young gentleman. I\nhave too much of that trash already, as I will show you in no time.\u2019\n\n\u201cAt that moment, and thought itself could not have been more\ninstantaneous, I seemed to have acquired new powers of sight. I could\nsee through the solid green plain, as if it were green glass, and the\nsmooth surface of the earth were round as a globe, and within it I saw\ncrowds of goblins, who were pursuing their pastime and making themselves\nmerry with silver and gold. They were tumbling and rolling about, heads\nup and heads down; they pelted one another in sport with the precious\nmetals, and with irritating malice blew gold-dust in one another\u2019s eyes.\nMy odious companion ordered the others to reach him up a vast quantity\nof gold; this he showed to me with a laugh, and then flung it again\nringing and chinking down the measureless abyss.\n\n\u201cAfter this contemptuous disregard of gold, he held up the piece I had\ngiven him, showing it to his brother goblins below, and they laughed\nimmoderately at a coin so worthless, and hissed me. At last, raising\ntheir fingers all smutched with ore, they pointed them at me in scorn;\nand wilder and wilder, and thicker and thicker, and madder and madder,\nthe crowd were clambering up to where I sat gazing at these wonders.\nThen terror seized me, as it had before seized my horse. I drove my\nspurs into his sides, and how far he rushed with me through the forest,\nduring this second of my wild heats, it is impossible to say.\n\n\u201cAt last, when I had now come to a dead halt again, the cool of evening\nwas around me. I caught the gleam of a white footpath through the\nbranches of the trees; and presuming it would lead me out of the forest\ntoward the city, I was desirous of working my way into it. But a face,\nperfectly white and indistinct, with features ever changing, kept\nthrusting itself out and peering at me between the leaves. I tried to\navoid it, but wherever I went, there too appeared the unearthly face. I\nwas maddened with rage at this interruption, and determined to drive my\nsteed at the appearance full tilt, when such a cloud of white foam came\nrushing upon me and my horse, that we were almost blinded and glad to\nturn about and escape. Thus from step to step it forced us on, and ever\naside from the footpath, leaving us for the most part only one direction\nopen. When we advanced in this, it kept following close behind us, yet\ndid not occasion the smallest harm or inconvenience.\n\n\u201cWhen at times I looked about me at the form, I perceived that the white\nface, which had splashed upon us its shower of foam, was resting on a\nbody equally white, and of more than gigantic size. Many a time, too, I\nreceived the impression that the whole appearance was nothing more than\na wandering stream or torrent; but respecting this I could never attain\nto any certainty. We both of us, horse and rider, became weary as we\nshaped our course according to the movements of the white man, who\ncontinued nodding his head at us, as if he would say, \u2018Quite right!\u2019 And\nthus, at length, we came out here, at the edge of the wood, where I saw\nthe fresh turf, the waters of the lake, and your little cottage, and\nwhere the tall white man disappeared.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, Heaven be praised that he is gone!\u201d cried the old fisherman; and\nhe now began to talk of how his guest could most conveniently return to\nhis friends in the city. Upon this, Undine began laughing to herself,\nbut so very low that the sound was hardly perceivable. Huldbrand\nobserving it, said, \u201cI thought you were glad to see me here; why, then,\ndo you now appear so happy when our talk turns upon my going away?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause you cannot go away,\u201d answered Undine. \u201cPray make a single\nattempt; try with a boat, with your horse, or alone, as you please, to\ncross that forest stream which has burst its bounds; or rather, make no\ntrial at all, for you would be dashed to pieces by the stones and trunks\nof trees which you see driven on with such violence. And as to the lake,\nI know that well; even my father dares not venture out with his boat far\nenough to help you.\u201d\n\nHuldbrand rose, smiling, in order to look about and observe whether the\nstate of things were such as Undine had represented it to be. The old\nman accompanied him, and the maiden went merrily dancing beside them.\nThey found all, in fact, just as Undine had said, and that the knight,\nwhether willing or not willing, must submit to remaining on the island,\nso lately a peninsula, until the flood should subside.\n\nWhen the three were now returning to the cottage after their ramble, the\nknight whispered in the ear of the little maiden, \u201cWell, dear Undine,\nare you angry at my remaining?\u201d\n\n\u201cAh,\u201d she pettishly replied, \u201cdo not speak to me! If I had not bitten\nyou, who knows what fine things you would have put into your story about\nBertalda?\u201d\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER 3\n\n\n\nIt may have happened to thee, my dear reader, after being much driven to\nand fro in the world, to reach at length a spot where all was well with\nthee. The love of home and of its peaceful joys, innate to all, again\nsprang up in thy heart; thou thoughtest that thy home was decked with\nall the flowers of childhood, and of that purest, deepest love which had\ngrown upon the graves of thy beloved, and that here it was good to live\nand to build houses. Even if thou didst err, and hast had bitterly to\nmourn thy error, it is nothing to my purpose, and thou thyself wilt\nnot like to dwell on the sad recollection. But recall those unspeakably\nsweet feelings, that angelic greeting of peace, and thou wilt be able\nto understand what was the happiness of the knight Huldbrand during his\nabode on that narrow slip of land.\n\nHe frequently observed, with heartfelt satisfaction, that the forest\nstream continued every day to swell and roll on with a more impetuous\nsweep; and this forced him to prolong his stay on the island. Part of\nthe day he wandered about with an old cross-bow, which he found in a\ncorner of the cottage, and had repaired in order to shoot the waterfowl\nthat flew over; and all that he was lucky enough to hit he brought home\nfor a good roast in the kitchen. When he came in with his booty, Undine\nseldom failed to greet him with a scolding, because he had cruelly\ndeprived the happy joyous little creatures of life as they were sporting\nabove in the blue ocean of the air; nay more, she often wept bitterly\nwhen she viewed the water-fowl dead in his hand. But at other times,\nwhen he returned without having shot any, she gave him a scolding\nequally serious, since, owing to his carelessness and want of skill,\nthey must now put up with a dinner of fish. Her playful taunts ever\ntouched his heart with delight; the more so, as she generally strove to\nmake up for her pretended ill-humour with endearing caresses.\n\nThe old people saw with pleasure this familiarity of Undine and\nHuldbrand; they looked upon them as betrothed, or even as married, and\nliving with them in their old age on their island, now torn off from the\nmainland. The loneliness of his situation strongly impressed also\nthe young Huldbrand with the feeling that he was already Undine\u2019s\nbridegroom. It seemed to him as if, beyond those encompassing floods,\nthere were no other world in existence, or at any rate as if he could\nnever cross them, and again associate with the world of other men; and\nwhen at times his grazing steed raised his head and neighed to him,\nseemingly inquiring after his knightly achievements and reminding him\nof them, or when his coat-of-arms sternly shone upon him from the\nembroidery of his saddle and the caparisons of his horse, or when his\nsword happened to fall from the nail on which it was hanging in the\ncottage, and flashed on his eye as it slipped from the scabbard in its\nfall, he quieted the doubts of his mind by saying to himself, \u201cUndine\ncannot be a fisherman\u2019s daughter. She is, in all probability, a native\nof some remote region, and a member of some illustrious family.\u201d\n\nThere was one thing, indeed, to which he had a strong aversion: this\nwas to hear the old dame reproving Undine. The wild girl, it is true,\ncommonly laughed at the reproof, making no attempt to conceal the\nextravagance of her mirth; but it appeared to him like touching his own\nhonour; and still he found it impossible to blame the aged wife of\nthe fisherman, since Undine always deserved at least ten times as\nmany reproofs as she received; so he continued to feel in his heart an\naffectionate tenderness for the ancient mistress of the house, and his\nwhole life flowed on in the calm stream of contentment.\n\nThere came, however, an interruption at last. The fisherman and the\nknight had been accustomed at dinner, and also in the evening when the\nwind roared without, as it rarely failed to do towards night, to enjoy\ntogether a flask of wine. But now their whole stock, which the fisherman\nhad from time to time brought with him from the city, was at last\nexhausted, and they were both quite out of humour at the circumstance.\nThat day Undine laughed at them excessively, but they were not disposed\nto join in her jests with the same gaiety as usual. Toward evening she\nwent out of the cottage, to escape, as she said, the sight of two such\nlong and tiresome faces.\n\nWhile it was yet twilight, some appearances of a tempest seemed to be\nagain mustering in the sky, and the waves already heaved and roared\naround them: the knight and the fisherman sprang to the door in terror,\nto bring home the maiden, remembering the anguish of that night when\nHuldbrand had first entered the cottage. But Undine met them at the same\nmoment, clapping her little hands in high glee.\n\n\u201cWhat will you give me,\u201d she cried, \u201cto provide you with wine? or\nrather, you need not give me anything,\u201d she continued; \u201cfor I am already\nsatisfied, if you look more cheerful, and are in better spirits, than\nthroughout this last most wearisome day. Only come with me; the forest\nstream has driven ashore a cask; and I will be condemned to sleep\nthrough a whole week, if it is not a wine-cask.\u201d\n\nThe men followed her, and actually found, in a bushy cove of the shore,\na cask, which inspired them with as much joy as if they were sure it\ncontained the generous old wine for which they were thirsting. They\nfirst of all, and with as much expedition as possible, rolled it toward\nthe cottage; for heavy clouds were again rising in the west, and they\ncould discern the waves of the lake in the fading light lifting their\nwhite foaming heads, as if looking out for the rain, which threatened\nevery instant to pour upon them. Undine helped the men as much as she\nwas able; and as the shower, with a roar of wind, came suddenly sweeping\non in rapid pursuit, she raised her finger with a merry menace toward\nthe dark mass of clouds, and cried:\n\n\u201cYou cloud, you cloud, have a care! beware how you wet us; we are some\nway from shelter yet.\u201d\n\nThe old man reproved her for this sally, as a sinful presumption;\nbut she laughed to herself softly, and no mischief came from her wild\nbehaviour. Nay more, what was beyond their expectation, they reached\ntheir comfortable hearth unwet, with their prize secured; but the cask\nhad hardly been broached, and proved to contain wine of a remarkably\nfine flavour, when the rain first poured down unrestrained from the\nblack cloud, the tempest raved through the tops of the trees, and swept\nfar over the billows of the deep.\n\nHaving immediately filled several bottles from the cask, which promised\nthem a supply for a long time, they drew round the glowing hearth; and,\ncomfortably secured from the tempest, they sat tasting the flavour of\ntheir wine and bandying jests.\n\nBut the old fisherman suddenly became extremely grave, and said: \u201cAh,\ngreat God! here we sit, rejoicing over this rich gift, while he to\nwhom it first belonged, and from whom it was wrested by the fury of the\nstream, must there also, it is more than probable, have lost his life.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo such thing,\u201d said Undine, smiling, as she filled the knight\u2019s cup to\nthe brim.\n\nBut he exclaimed: \u201cBy my unsullied honour, old father, if I knew where\nto find and rescue him, no fear of exposure to the night, nor any peril,\nshould deter me from making the attempt. At least, I can promise you\nthat if I again reach an inhabited country, I will find out the owner of\nthis wine or his heirs, and make double and triple reimbursement.\u201d\n\nThe old man was gratified with this assurance; he gave the knight a nod\nof approbation, and now drained his cup with an easier conscience and\nmore relish.\n\nUndine, however, said to Huldbrand: \u201cAs to the repayment and your gold,\nyou may do whatever you like. But what you said about your venturing\nout, and searching, and exposing yourself to danger, appears to me far\nfrom wise. I should cry my very eyes out, should you perish in such a\nwild attempt; and is it not true that you would prefer staying here with\nme and the good wine?\u201d\n\n\u201cMost assuredly,\u201d answered Huldbrand, smiling.\n\n\u201cThen, you see,\u201d replied Undine, \u201cyou spoke unwisely. For charity begins\nat home; and why need we trouble ourselves about our neighbours?\u201d\n\nThe mistress of the house turned away from her, sighing and shaking\nher head; while the fisherman forgot his wonted indulgence toward the\ngraceful maiden, and thus rebuked her:\n\n\u201cThat sounds exactly as if you had been brought up by heathens and\nTurks;\u201d and he finished his reproof by adding, \u201cMay God forgive both me\nand you--unfeeling child!\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, say what you will, that is what I think and feel,\u201d replied\nUndine, \u201cwhoever brought me up; and all your talking cannot help it.\u201d\n\n\u201cSilence!\u201d exclaimed the fisherman, in a voice of stern rebuke; and she,\nwho with all her wild spirit was extremely alive to fear, shrank from\nhim, moved close up to Huldbrand, trembling, and said very softly:\n\n\u201cAre you also angry, dear friend?\u201d\n\nThe knight pressed her soft hand, and tenderly stroked her locks. He\nwas unable to utter a word, for his vexation, arising from the old man\u2019s\nseverity towards Undine, closed his lips; and thus the two couples sat\nopposite to each other, at once heated with anger and in embarrassed\nsilence.\n\nIn the midst of this stillness a low knocking at the door startled them\nall; for there are times when a slight circumstance, coming unexpectedly\nupon us, startles us like something supernatural. But there was the\nfurther source of alarm, that the enchanted forest lay so near them, and\nthat their place of abode seemed at present inaccessible to any human\nbeing. While they were looking upon one another in doubt, the knocking\nwas again heard, accompanied with a deep groan. The knight sprang to\nseize his sword. But the old man said, in a low whisper:\n\n\u201cIf it be what I fear it is, no weapon of yours can protect us.\u201d\n\nUndine in the meanwhile went to the door, and cried with the firm voice\nof fearless displeasure: \u201cSpirits of the earth! if mischief be your aim,\nKuhleborn shall teach you better manners.\u201d\n\nThe terror of the rest was increased by this wild speech; they looked\nfearfully upon the girl, and Huldbrand was just recovering presence\nof mind enough to ask what she meant, when a voice reached them from\nwithout:\n\n\u201cI am no spirit of the earth, though a spirit still in its earthly body.\nYou that are within the cottage there, if you fear God and would afford\nme assistance, open your door to me.\u201d\n\nBy the time these words were spoken, Undine had already opened it; and\nthe lamp throwing a strong light upon the stormy night, they perceived\nan aged priest without, who stepped back in terror, when his eye fell on\nthe unexpected sight of a little damsel of such exquisite beauty. Well\nmight he think there must be magic in the wind and witchcraft at work,\nwhen a form of such surpassing loveliness appeared at the door of so\nhumble a dwelling. So he lifted up his voice in prayer:\n\n\u201cLet all good spirits praise the Lord God!\u201d\n\n\u201cI am no spectre,\u201d said Undine, with a smile. \u201cDo I look so very\nfrightful? And you see that I do not shrink from holy words. I too have\nknowledge of God, and understand the duty of praising Him; every one, to\nbe sure, has his own way of doing this, for so He has created us. Come\nin, father; you will find none but worthy people here.\u201d\n\nThe holy man came bowing in, and cast round a glance of scrutiny,\nwearing at the same time a very placid and venerable air. But water was\ndropping from every fold of his dark garments, from his long white beard\nand the white locks of his hair. The fisherman and the knight took him\nto another apartment, and furnished him with a change of raiment, while\nthey gave his own clothes to the women to dry. The aged stranger thanked\nthem in a manner the most humble and courteous; but on the knight\u2019s\noffering him his splendid cloak to wrap round him, he could not be\npersuaded to take it, but chose instead an old grey coat that belonged\nto the fisherman.\n\nThey then returned to the common apartment. The mistress of the house\nimmediately offered her great chair to the priest, and continued urging\nit upon him till she saw him fairly in possession of it. \u201cYou are old\nand exhausted,\u201d said she, \u201cand are, moreover, a man of God.\u201d\n\nUndine shoved under the stranger\u2019s feet her little stool, on which at\nall other times she used to sit near to Huldbrand, and showed herself\nmost gentle and amiable towards the old man. Huldbrand whispered some\nraillery in her ear, but she replied, gravely:\n\n\u201cHe is a minister of that Being who created us all; and holy things are\nnot to be treated with lightness.\u201d\n\nThe knight and the fisherman now refreshed the priest with food and\nwine; and when he had somewhat recovered his strength and spirits, he\nbegan to relate how he had the day before set out from his cloister,\nwhich was situated far off beyond the great lake, in order to visit the\nbishop, and acquaint him with the distress into which the cloister and\nits tributary villages had fallen, owing to the extraordinary floods.\nAfter a long and wearisome wandering, on account of the rise of the\nwaters, he had been this day compelled toward evening to procure the\naid of a couple of boatmen, and cross over an arm of the lake which had\nburst its usual boundary.\n\n\u201cBut hardly,\u201d continued he, \u201chad our small ferry-boat touched the waves,\nwhen that furious tempest burst forth which is still raging over our\nheads. It seemed as if the billows had been waiting our approach only to\nrush on us with a madness the more wild. The oars were wrested from the\ngrasp of my men in an instant; and shivered by the resistless force,\nthey drove farther and farther out before us upon the waves. Unable to\ndirect our course, we yielded to the blind power of nature, and seemed\nto fly over the surges toward your distant shore, which we already saw\nlooming through the mist and foam of the deep. Then it was at last that\nour boat turned short from its course, and rocked with a motion that\nbecame more wild and dizzy: I know not whether it was overset, or the\nviolence of the motion threw me overboard. In my agony and struggle at\nthe thought of a near and terrible death, the waves bore me onward, till\nI was cast ashore here beneath the trees of your island.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, an island!\u201d cried the fisherman; \u201ca short time ago it was only a\npoint of land. But now, since the forest stream and lake have become all\nbut mad, it appears to be entirely changed.\u201d\n\n\u201cI observed something of it,\u201d replied the priest, \u201cas I stole along the\nshore in the obscurity; and hearing nothing around me but a sort of wild\nuproar, I perceived at last that the noise came from a point exactly\nwhere a beaten footpath disappeared. I now caught the light in your\ncottage, and ventured hither, where I cannot sufficiently thank my\nHeavenly Father that, after preserving me from the waters, He has also\nconducted me to such pious people as you are; and the more so, as it is\ndifficult to say whether I shall ever behold any other persons in this\nworld except you four.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat mean you by those words?\u201d asked the fisherman.\n\n\u201cCan you tell me, then, how long this commotion of the elements will\nlast?\u201d replied the priest. \u201cI am old; the stream of my life may easily\nsink into the ground and vanish before the overflowing of that forest\nstream shall subside. And, indeed, it is not impossible that more and\nmore of the foaming waters may rush in between you and yonder forest,\nuntil you are so far removed from the rest of the world, that your small\nfishing-canoe may be incapable of passing over, and the inhabitants of\nthe continent entirely forget you in your old age amid the dissipation\nand diversions of life.\u201d\n\nAt this melancholy foreboding the old lady shrank back with a feeling of\nalarm, crossed herself, and cried, \u201cGod forbid!\u201d\n\nBut the fisherman looked upon her with a smile and said, \u201cWhat a strange\nbeing is man! Suppose the worst to happen; our state would not be\ndifferent; at any rate, your own would not, dear wife, from what it is\nat present. For have you, these many years, been farther from home than\nthe border of the forest? And have you seen a single human being beside\nUndine and myself? It is now only a short time since the coming of the\nknight and the priest. They will remain with us, even if we do become a\nforgotten island; so after all you will be a gainer.\u201d\n\n\u201cI know not,\u201d replied the ancient dame; \u201cit is a dismal thought, when\nbrought fairly home to the mind, that we are for ever separated from\nmankind, even though in fact we never do know nor see them.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen YOU will remain with us--then you will remain with us!\u201d whispered\nUndine, in a voice scarcely audible and half singing, while she nestled\ncloser to Huldbrand\u2019s side. But he was immersed in the deep and strange\nmusings of his own mind. The region, on the farther side of the\nforest river, seemed, since the last words of the priest, to have been\nwithdrawing farther and farther, in dim perspective, from his view; and\nthe blooming island on which he lived grew green and smiled more freshly\nin his fancy. His bride glowed like the fairest rose, not of this\nobscure nook only, but even of the whole wide world; and the priest was\nnow present.\n\nAdded to which, the mistress of the family was directing an angry glance\nat Undine, because, even in the presence of the priest, she leant\nso fondly on the knight; and it seemed as if she was on the point\nof breaking out in harsh reproof. Then burst forth from the mouth of\nHuldbrand, as he turned to the priest, \u201cFather, you here see before you\nan affianced pair; and if this maiden and these good old people have no\nobjection, you shall unite us this very evening.\u201d\n\nThe aged couple were both exceedingly surprised. They had often, it is\ntrue, thought of this, but as yet they had never mentioned it; and now,\nwhen the knight spoke, it came upon them like something wholly new and\nunexpected. Undine became suddenly grave, and looked down thoughtfully,\nwhile the priest made inquiries respecting the circumstances of their\nacquaintance, and asked the old people whether they gave their consent\nto the union. After a great number of questions and answers, the affair\nwas arranged to the satisfaction of all; and the mistress of the house\nwent to prepare the bridal apartment of the young couple, and also,\nwith a view to grace the nuptial solemnity, to seek for two consecrated\ntapers, which she had for a long time kept by her, for this occasion.\n\nThe knight in the meanwhile busied himself about his golden chain,\nfor the purpose of disengaging two of its links, that he might make\nan exchange of rings with his bride. But when she saw his object, she\nstarted from her trance of musing, and exclaimed--\n\n\u201cNot so! my parents by no means sent me into the world so perfectly\ndestitute; on the contrary, they foresaw, even at that early period,\nthat such a night as this would come.\u201d\n\nThus speaking she went out of the room, and a moment after returned with\ntwo costly rings, of which she gave one to her bridegroom, and kept the\nother for herself. The old fisherman was beyond measure astonished at\nthis; and his wife, who was just re-entering the room, was even more\nsurprised than he, that neither of them had ever seen these jewels in\nthe child\u2019s possession.\n\n\u201cMy parents,\u201d said Undine, \u201csewed these trinkets to that beautiful\nraiment which I wore the very day I came to you. They also charged me\non no account whatever to mention them to any one before my wedding\nevening. At the time of my coming, therefore, I took them off in secret,\nand have kept them concealed to the present hour.\u201d\n\nThe priest now cut short all further questioning and wondering, while he\nlighted the consecrated tapers, placed them on a table, and ordered the\nbridal pair to stand opposite to him. He then pronounced the few solemn\nwords of the ceremony, and made them one. The elder couple gave the\nyounger their blessing; and the bride, gently trembling and thoughtful,\nleaned upon the knight.\n\nThe priest then spoke out: \u201cYou are strange people, after all; for why\ndid you tell me that you were the only inhabitants of the island? So far\nis this from being true, I have seen, the whole time I was performing\nthe ceremony, a tall, stately man, in a white mantle, standing opposite\nto me, looking in at the window. He must be still waiting before the\ndoor, if peradventure you would invite him to come in.\u201d\n\n\u201cGod forbid!\u201d cried the old lady, shrinking back; the fisherman shook\nhis head, without opening his lips; and Huldbrand sprang to the window.\nIt seemed to him that he could still discern a white streak, which soon\ndisappeared in the gloom. He convinced the priest that he must have\nbeen mistaken in his impression; and they all sat down together round a\nbright and comfortable hearth.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER 4\n\n\n\nBefore the nuptial ceremony, and during its performance, Undine had\nshown a modest gentleness and maidenly reserve; but it now seemed as if\nall the wayward freaks that effervesced within her burst forth with\nan extravagance only the more bold and unrestrained. She teased her\nbridegroom, her foster-parents, and even the priest, whom she had just\nnow revered so highly, with all sorts of childish tricks; but when the\nancient dame was about to reprove her too frolicsome spirit, the knight,\nin a few words, imposed silence upon her by speaking of Undine as his\nwife.\n\nThe knight was himself, indeed, just as little pleased with Undine\u2019s\nchildish behaviour as the rest; but all his looks and half-reproachful\nwords were to no purpose. It is true, whenever the bride observed the\ndissatisfaction of her husband--and this occasionally happened--she\nbecame more quiet, placed herself beside him, stroked his face with\ncaressing fondness, whispered something smilingly in his ear, and in\nthis manner smoothed the wrinkles that were gathering on his brow.\nBut the moment after, some wild whim would make her resume her antic\nmovements; and all went worse than before.\n\nThe priest then spoke in a kind although serious tone: \u201cMy fair young\nmaiden, surely no one can look on you without pleasure; but remember\nbetimes so to attune your soul that it may produce a harmony ever in\naccordance with the soul of your wedded bridegroom.\u201d\n\n\u201cSOUL!\u201d cried Undine with a laugh. \u201cWhat you say has a remarkably\npretty sound; and for most people, too, it may be a very instructive and\nprofitable caution. But when a person has no soul at all, how, I pray\nyou, can such attuning be then possible? And this, in truth, is just my\ncondition.\u201d\n\nThe priest was much hurt, but continued silent in holy displeasure, and\nturned away his face from the maiden in sorrow. She, however, went up to\nhim with the most winning sweetness, and said:\n\n\u201cNay, I entreat you first listen to me, before you are angry with me;\nfor your anger is painful to me, and you ought not to give pain to a\ncreature that has not hurt you. Only have patience with me, and I will\nexplain to you every word of what I meant.\u201d\n\nIt was evident that she had come to say something important; when she\nsuddenly faltered as if seized with inward shuddering, and burst into\na passion of tears. They were none of them able to understand the\nintenseness of her feelings; and, with mingled emotions of fear and\nanxiety, they gazed on her in silence. Then, wiping away her tears, and\nlooking earnestly at the priest, she at last said:\n\n\u201cThere must be something lovely, but at the same time something most\nawful, about a soul. In the name of God, holy man, were it not better\nthat we never shared a gift so mysterious?\u201d\n\nAgain she paused, and restrained her tears, as if waiting for an answer.\nAll in the cottage had risen from their seats, and stepped back from her\nwith horror. She, however, seemed to have eyes for no one but the holy\nman; an awful curiosity was painted on her features, which appeared\nterrible to the others.\n\n\u201cHeavily must the soul weigh down its possessor,\u201d she pursued, when no\none returned her any answer--\u201cvery heavily! for already its approaching\nimage overshadows me with anguish and mourning. And, alas, I have till\nnow been so merry and light-hearted!\u201d and she burst into another flood\nof tears, and covered her face with her veil.\n\nThe priest, going up to her with a solemn look, now addressed himself\nto her, and conjured her, by the name of God most holy, if any spirit of\nevil possessed her, to remove the light covering from her face. But\nshe sank before him on her knees, and repeated after him every sacred\nexpression he uttered, giving praise to God, and protesting \u201cthat she\nwished well to the whole world.\u201d\n\nThe priest then spoke to the knight: \u201cSir bridegroom, I leave you\nalone with her whom I have united to you in marriage. So far as I can\ndiscover, there is nothing of evil in her, but assuredly much that is\nwonderful. What I recommend to you is--prudence, love, and fidelity.\u201d\n\nThus speaking, he left the apartment; and the fisherman, with his wife,\nfollowed him, crossing themselves.\n\nUndine had sunk upon her knees. She uncovered her face, and exclaimed,\nwhile she looked fearfully round upon Huldbrand, \u201cAlas! you will now\nrefuse to look upon me as your own; and still I have done nothing evil,\npoor unhappy child that I am!\u201d She spoke these words with a look so\ninfinitely sweet and touching, that her bridegroom forgot both the\nconfession that had shocked, and the mystery that had perplexed him;\nand hastening to her, he raised her in his arms. She smiled through her\ntears; and that smile was like the morning light playing upon a small\nstream. \u201cYou cannot desert me!\u201d she whispered confidingly, and stroked\nthe knight\u2019s cheeks with her little soft hands. He turned away from the\nfrightful thoughts that still lurked in the recesses of his soul,\nand were persuading him that he had been married to a fairy, or some\nspiteful and mischievous being of the spirit-world. Only the single\nquestion, and that almost unawares, escaped from his lips.\n\n\u201cDearest Undine, tell me this one thing: what was it you meant by\n\u2018spirits of earth\u2019 and \u2018Kuhleborn,\u2019 when the priest stood knocking at\nthe door?\u201d\n\n\u201cTales! mere tales of children!\u201d answered Undine, laughing, now quite\nrestored to her wonted gaiety. \u201cI first frightened you with them, and\nyou frightened me. This is the end of the story, and of our nuptial\nevening.\u201d\n\n\u201cNay, not so,\u201d replied the enamoured knight, extinguishing the tapers,\nand a thousand times kissing his beautiful and beloved bride; while,\nlighted by the moon that shone brightly through the windows, he bore her\ninto their bridal apartment.\n\nThe fresh light of morning woke the young married pair: but Huldbrand\nlay lost in silent reflection. Whenever, during the night, he had fallen\nasleep, strange and horrible dreams of spectres had disturbed him; and\nthese shapes, grinning at him by stealth, strove to disguise themselves\nas beautiful females; and from beautiful females they all at once\nassumed the appearance of dragons. And when he started up, aroused by\nthe intrusion of these hideous forms, the moonlight shone pale and cold\nbefore the windows without. He looked affrighted at Undine, in whose\narms he had fallen asleep: and she was reposing in unaltered beauty and\nsweetness beside him. Then pressing her rosy lips with a light kiss, he\nagain fell into a slumber, only to be awakened by new terrors.\n\nWhen fully awake, he had thought over this connection. He reproached\nhimself for any doubt that could lead him into error in regard to his\nlovely wife. He also confessed to her his injustice; but she only gave\nhim her fair hand, sighed deeply, and remained silent. Yet a glance of\nfervent tenderness, an expression of the soul beaming in her eyes, such\nas he had never witnessed there before, left him in undoubted assurance\nthat Undine bore him no ill-will.\n\nHe then rose joyfully, and leaving her, went to the common apartment,\nwhere the inmates of the house had already met. The three were sitting\nround the hearth with an air of anxiety about them, as if they feared\ntrusting themselves to raise their voice above a low, apprehensive\nundertone. The priest appeared to be praying in his inmost spirit, with\na view to avert some fatal calamity. But when they observed the young\nhusband come forth so cheerful, they dispelled the cloud that remained\nupon their brows: the old fisherman even began to laugh with the\nknight till his aged wife herself could not help smiling with great\ngood-humour.\n\nUndine had in the meantime got ready, and now entered the room; all\nrose to meet her, but remained fixed in perfect admiration--she was so\nchanged, and yet the same. The priest, with paternal affection beaming\nfrom his countenance, first went up to her; and as he raised his hand to\npronounce a blessing, the beautiful bride sank on her knees before him\nwith religious awe; she begged his pardon in terms both respectful and\nsubmissive for any foolish things she might have uttered the evening\nbefore, and entreated him with emotion to pray for the welfare of her\nsoul. She then rose, kissed her foster-parents, and, after thanking them\nfor all the kindness they had shown her, said:\n\n\u201cOh, I now feel in my inmost heart how much, how infinitely much, you\nhave done for me, you dear, dear friends of my childhood!\u201d\n\nAt first she was wholly unable to tear herself away from their\naffectionate caresses; but the moment she saw the good old mother busy\nin getting breakfast, she went to the hearth, applied herself to cooking\nthe food and putting it on the table, and would not suffer her to take\nthe least share in the work.\n\nShe continued in this frame of spirit the whole day: calm, kind\nattentive--half matronly, and half girlish. The three who had been\nlongest acquainted with her expected every instant to see her capricious\nspirit break out in some whimsical change or sportive vagary. But their\nfears were quite unnecessary. Undine continued as mild and gentle as an\nangel. The priest found it all but impossible to remove his eyes from\nher; and he often said to the bridegroom:\n\n\u201cThe bounty of Heaven, sir, through me its unworthy instrument,\nentrusted to you yesterday an invaluable treasure; cherish it as you\nought, and it will promote your temporal and eternal welfare.\u201d\n\nToward evening Undine was hanging upon the knight\u2019s arm with lowly\ntenderness, while she drew him gently out before the door, where the\nsetting sun shone richly over the fresh grass, and upon the high,\nslender boles of the trees. Her emotion was visible: the dew of sadness\nand love swam in her eyes, while a tender and fearful secret seemed to\nhover upon her lips, but was only made known by hardly-breathed sighs.\nShe led her husband farther and farther onward without speaking. When he\nasked her questions, she replied only with looks, in which, it is true,\nthere appeared to be no immediate answer to his inquiries, but a whole\nheaven of love and timid devotion. Thus they reached the margin of the\nswollen forest stream, and the knight was astonished to see it gliding\naway with so gentle a murmuring of its waves, that no vestige of its\nformer swell and wildness was now discernible.\n\n\u201cBy morning it will be wholly drained off,\u201d said the beautiful wife,\nalmost weeping, \u201cand you will then be able to travel, without anything\nto hinder you, whithersoever you will.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot without you, dear Undine,\u201d replied the knight, laughing; \u201cthink,\nonly, were I disposed to leave you, both the Church and the spiritual\npowers, the Emperor and the laws of the realm, would require the\nfugitive to be seized and restored to you.\u201d\n\n\u201cAll this depends on you--all depends on you,\u201d whispered his little\ncompanion, half weeping and half smiling. \u201cBut I still feel sure that\nyou will not leave me; I love you too deeply to fear that misery. Now\nbear me over to that little island which lies before us. There shall\nthe decision be made. I could easily, indeed, glide through that mere\nrippling of the water without your aid, but it is so sweet to lie in\nyour arms; and should you determine to put me away, I shall have rested\nin them once more,... for the last time.\u201d\n\nHuldbrand was so full of strange anxiety and emotion, that he knew not\nwhat answer to make her. He took her in his arms and carried her over,\nnow first realizing the fact that this was the same little island from\nwhich he had borne her back to the old fisherman, the first night of his\narrival. On the farther side, he placed her upon the soft grass, and\nwas throwing himself lovingly near his beautiful burden; but she said to\nhim, \u201cNot here, but opposite me. I shall read my doom in your eyes, even\nbefore your lips pronounce it: now listen attentively to what I shall\nrelate to you.\u201d And she began:\n\n\u201cYou must know, my own love, that there are beings in the elements which\nbear the strongest resemblance to the human race, and which, at the\nsame time, but seldom become visible to you. The wonderful salamanders\nsparkle and sport amid the flames; deep in the earth the meagre and\nmalicious gnomes pursue their revels; the forest-spirits belong to the\nair, and wander in the woods; while in the seas, rivers, and streams\nlive the widespread race of water-spirits. These last, beneath\nresounding domes of crystal, through which the sky can shine with its\nsun and stars, inhabit a region of light and beauty; lofty coral-trees\nglow with blue and crimson fruits in their gardens; they walk over the\npure sand of the sea, among exquisitely variegated shells, and amid\nwhatever of beauty the old world possessed, such as the present is no\nmore worthy to enjoy--creations which the floods covered with their\nsecret veils of silver; and now these noble monuments sparkle below,\nstately and solemn, and bedewed by the water, which loves them, and\ncalls forth from their crevices delicate moss-flowers and enwreathing\ntufts of sedge.\n\n\u201cNow the nation that dwell there are very fair and lovely to behold,\nfor the most part more beautiful than human beings. Many a fisherman has\nbeen so fortunate as to catch a view of a delicate maiden of the waters,\nwhile she was floating and singing upon the deep. He would then spread\nfar the fame of her beauty; and to such wonderful females men are wont\nto give the name of Undines. But what need of saying more?--You, my dear\nhusband, now actually behold an Undine before you.\u201d\n\nThe knight would have persuaded himself that his lovely wife was under\nthe influence of one of her odd whims, and that she was only amusing\nherself and him with her extravagant inventions. He wished it might be\nso. But with whatever emphasis he said this to himself, he still could\nnot credit the hope for a moment: a strange shivering shot through his\nsoul; unable to utter a word, he gazed upon the sweet speaker with a\nfixed eye. She shook her head in distress, sighed from her full heart,\nand then proceeded in the following manner:--\u201cWe should be far superior\nto you, who are another race of the human family,--for we also call\nourselves human beings, as we resemble them in form and features--had\nwe not one evil peculiar to ourselves. Both we and the beings I have\nmentioned as inhabiting the other elements vanish into air at death and\ngo out of existence, spirit and body, so that no vestige of us remains;\nand when you hereafter awake to a purer state of being, we shall remain\nwhere sand, and sparks, and wind, and waves remain. Thus we have no\nsouls; the element moves us, and, again, is obedient to our will, while\nwe live, though it scatters us like dust when we die; and as we\nhave nothing to trouble us, we are as merry as nightingales, little\ngold-fishes, and other pretty children of nature.\n\n\u201cBut all beings aspire to rise in the scale of existence higher than\nthey are. It was therefore the wish of my father, who is a powerful\nwater-prince in the Mediterranean Sea, that his only daughter should\nbecome possessed of a soul, although she should have to endure many of\nthe sufferings of those who share that gift.\n\n\u201cNow the race to which I belong have no other means of obtaining a soul\nthan by forming with an individual of your own the most intimate union\nof love. I am now possessed of a soul, and my soul thanks you, my best\nbeloved, and never shall cease to thank you, if you do not render my\nwhole future life miserable. For what will become of me, if you avoid\nand reject me? Still, I would not keep you as my own by artifice. And\nshould you decide to cast me off, then do it now, and return alone to\nthe shore. I will plunge into this brook, where my uncle will receive\nme; my uncle, who here in the forest, far removed from his other\nfriends, passes his strange and solitary existence. But he is powerful,\nas well as revered and beloved by many great rivers; and as he brought\nme hither to the fisherman a light-hearted and laughing child, he will\ntake me home to my parents a woman, gifted with a soul, with power to\nlove and to suffer.\u201d\n\nShe was about to add something more, when Huldbrand, with the most\nheartfelt tenderness and love, clasped her in his arms, and again bore\nher back to the shore. There, amid tears and kisses, he first swore\nnever to forsake his affectionate wife, and esteemed himself even more\nhappy than Pygmalion, for whom Venus gave life to his beautiful statue,\nand thus changed it into a beloved wife. Supported by his arm, and in\nthe confidence of affection, Undine returned to the cottage; and now\nshe first realized with her whole heart how little cause she had for\nregretting what she had left--the crystal palace of her mysterious\nfather.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER 5\n\n\n\nNext morning, when Huldbrand awoke from slumber, and perceived that his\nbeautiful wife was not by his side, he began to give way again to\nhis wild imaginations--that his marriage, and even the lovely Undine\nherself, were only shadows without substance--only mere illusions of\nenchantment. But she entered the door at the same moment, kissed him,\nseated herself on the bed by his side, and said:\n\n\u201cI have been out somewhat early this morning, to see whether my uncle\nkeeps his word. He has already restored the waters of the flood to\nhis own calm channel, and he now flows through the forest a rivulet as\nbefore, in a lonely and dreamlike current. His friends, too, both of\nthe water and the air, have resumed their usual peaceful tenor; all will\nagain proceed with order and tranquillity; and you can travel homeward,\nwithout fear of the flood, whenever you choose.\u201d\n\nIt seemed to the mind of Huldbrand that he must be in some waking dream,\nso little was he able to understand the nature of his wife\u2019s strange\nrelative. Notwithstanding this he made no remark upon what she had\ntold him, and her surpassing loveliness soon lulled every misgiving and\ndiscomfort to rest.\n\nSome time afterwards, while he was standing with her before the door,\nand surveying the verdant point of land, with its boundary of bright\nwaters, such a feeling of bliss came over him in this cradle of his\nlove, that he exclaimed:\n\n\u201cShall we, then, so early as to-day, begin our journey? Why should\nwe? It is probable that abroad in the world we shall find no days more\ndelightful than those we have spent in this green isle so secret and so\nsecure. Let us yet see the sun go down here two or three times more.\u201d\n\n\u201cJust as my lord wills,\u201d replied Undine meekly. \u201cOnly we must remember,\nthat my foster-parents will, at all events, see me depart with pain; and\nshould they now, for the first time, discover the true soul in me, and\nhow fervently I can now love and honour them, their feeble eyes would\nsurely become blind with weeping. As yet they consider my present\nquietness and gentleness as of no better promise than they were\nformerly--like the calm of the lake just while the air remains\ntranquil--and they will learn soon to cherish a little tree or flower as\nthey have cherished me. Let me not, then, make known to them this newly\nbestowed, this loving heart, at the very moment they must lose it for\nthis world; and how could I conceal what I have gained, if we continued\nlonger together?\u201d\n\nHuldbrand yielded to her representation, and went to the aged couple to\nconfer with them respecting his journey, on which he proposed to set out\nthat very hour. The priest offered himself as a companion to the young\nmarried pair; and, after taking a short farewell, he held the bridle,\nwhile the knight lifted his beautiful wife upon his horse; and with\nrapid steps they crossed the dry channel with her toward the forest.\nUndine wept in silent but intense emotion; the old people, as she\nmoved away, were more clamorous in the expression of their grief. They\nappeared to feel, at the moment of separation, all that they were losing\nin their affectionate foster-daughter.\n\nThe three travellers had reached the thickest shades of the forest\nwithout interchanging a word. It must have been a fair sight, in that\nhall of leafy verdure, to see this lovely woman\u2019s form sitting on the\nnoble and richly-ornamented steed, on her left hand the venerable priest\nin the white garb of his order, on her right the blooming young knight,\nclad in splendid raiment of scarlet, gold, and violet, girt with a sword\nthat flashed in the sun, and attentively walking beside her. Huldbrand\nhad no eyes but for his wife; Undine, who had dried her tears of\ntenderness, had no eyes but for him; and they soon entered into the\nstill and voiceless converse of looks and gestures, from which, after\nsome time, they were awakened by the low discourse which the priest\nwas holding with a fourth traveller, who had meanwhile joined them\nunobserved.\n\nHe wore a white gown, resembling in form the dress of the priest\u2019s\norder, except that his hood hung very low over his face, and that the\nwhole drapery floated in such wide folds around him as obliged him every\nmoment to gather it up and throw it over his arm, or by some management\nof this sort to get it out of his way, and still it did not seem in the\nleast to impede his movements. When the young couple became aware of his\npresence, he was saying:\n\n\u201cAnd so, venerable sir, many as have been the years I have dwelt here in\nthis forest, I have never received the name of hermit in your sense of\nthe word. For, as I said before, I know nothing of penance, and I think,\ntoo, that I have no particular need of it. Do you ask me why I am so\nattached to the forest? It is because its scenery is so peculiarly\npicturesque, and affords me so much pastime when, in my floating white\ngarments, I pass through its world of leaves and dusky shadows;--and\nwhen a sweet sunbeam glances down upon me at times unexpectedly.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are a very singular man,\u201d replied the priest, \u201cand I should like to\nhave a more intimate acquaintance with you.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd who, then, may you be yourself, to pass from one thing to another?\u201d\n inquired the stranger.\n\n\u201cI am called Father Heilmann,\u201d answered the holy man; \u201cand I am from the\ncloister of Our Lady of the Salutation, beyond the lake.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, well,\u201d replied the stranger, \u201cmy name is Kuhleborn; and were I\na stickler for the nice distinctions of rank, I might, with equal\npropriety, require you to give me the title of noble lord of Kuhleborn,\nor free lord of Kuhleborn; for I am as free as the birds in the forest,\nand, it may be, a trifle more so. For example, I now have something to\ntell that young lady there.\u201d And before they were aware of his purpose,\nhe was on the other side of the priest, close to Undine, and stretching\nhimself high into the air, in order to whisper something in her ear. But\nshe shrank from him in terror, and exclaimed:\n\n\u201cI have nothing more to do with you.\u201d\n\n\u201cHo, ho,\u201d cried the stranger with a laugh, \u201cyou have made a grand\nmarriage indeed, since you no longer know your own relations! Have you\nno recollection, then, of your uncle Kuhleborn, who so faithfully bore\nyou on his back to this region?\u201d\n\n\u201cHowever that may be,\u201d replied Undine, \u201cI entreat you never to appear in\nmy presence again. I am now afraid of you; and will not my husband fear\nand forsake me, if he sees me associate with such strange company and\nkindred?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou must not forget, my little niece,\u201d said Kuhleborn, \u201cthat I am with\nyou here as a guide; otherwise those madcap spirits of the earth, the\ngnomes that haunt this forest, would play you some of their mischievous\npranks. Let me therefore still accompany you in peace. Even the old\npriest there had a better recollection of me than you have; for he just\nnow assured me that I seemed to be very familiar to him, and that I must\nhave been with him in the ferry-boat, out of which he tumbled into\nthe waves. He certainly did see me there; for I was no other than the\nwater-spout that tore him out of it, and kept him from sinking, while I\nsafely wafted him ashore to your wedding.\u201d\n\nUndine and the knight turned their eyes upon Father Heilmann; but he\nappeared to be moving forward, just as if he were dreaming or walking\nin his sleep, and no longer to be conscious of a word that was spoken.\nUndine then said to Kuhleborn: \u201cI already see yonder the end of the\nforest. We have no further need of your assistance, and nothing now\ngives us alarm but yourself. I therefore beseech you, by our mutual love\nand good-will, to vanish, and allow us to proceed in peace.\u201d\n\nKuhleborn seemed to become angry at this: he darted a frightful look at\nUndine, and grinned fiercely upon her. She shrieked aloud, and called\nher husband to protect her. The knight sprang round the horse as quick\nas lightning, and, brandishing his sword, struck at Kuhleborn\u2019s head.\nBut instead of severing it from his body, the sword merely flashed\nthrough a torrent, which rushed foaming near them from a lofty cliff;\nand with a splash, which much resembled in sound a burst of laughter,\nthe stream all at once poured upon them and gave them a thorough\nwetting. The priest, as if suddenly awakening from a trance, coolly\nobserved: \u201cThis is what I have been some time expecting, because the\nbrook has descended from the steep so close beside us--though at first\nsight, indeed, it appeared to resemble a man, and to possess the power\nof speech.\u201d\n\nAs the waterfall came rushing from its crag, it distinctly uttered these\nwords in Huldbrand\u2019s ear: \u201cRash knight! valiant knight! I am not angry\nwith you; I have no quarrel with you; only continue to defend your\nlovely little wife with the same spirit, you bold knight! you valiant\nchampion!\u201d\n\nAfter advancing a few steps farther, the travellers came out upon open\nground. The imperial city lay bright before them; and the evening sun,\nwhich gilded its towers with gold, kindly dried their garments that had\nbeen so completely drenched.\n\nThe sudden disappearance of the young knight, Huldbrand of Ringstetten,\nhad occasioned much remark in the imperial city, and no small concern\namongst those who, as well on account of his expertness in tourney and\ndance, as of his mild and amiable manners, had become attached to him.\nHis attendants were unwilling to quit the place without their master,\nalthough not a soul of them had been courageous enough to follow him\ninto the fearful recesses of the forest. They remained, therefore, at\nthe hostelry, idly hoping, as men are wont to do, and keeping the fate\nof their lost lord fresh in remembrance by their lamentations.\n\nNow when the violent storms and floods had been observed immediately\nafter his departure, the destruction of the handsome stranger became\nall but certain; even Bertalda had openly discovered her sorrow, and\ndetested herself for having been the cause of his taking that fatal\nexcursion into the forest. Her foster-parents, the duke and duchess, had\nmeanwhile come to take her away; but Bertalda persuaded them to remain\nwith her until some certain news of Huldbrand should be obtained,\nwhether he were living or dead. She endeavoured also to prevail upon\nseveral young knights, who were assiduous in courting her favour, to\ngo in quest of the noble adventurer in the forest. But she refused\nto pledge her hand as the reward of the enterprise, because she still\ncherished, it might be, a hope of its being claimed by the returning\nknight; and no one would consent, for a glove, a riband, or even a kiss,\nto expose his life to bring back so very dangerous a rival.\n\nWhen Huldbrand now made his sudden and unexpected appearance, his\nattendants, the inhabitants of the city, and almost every one rejoiced.\nThis was not the case with Bertalda; for although it might be quite\na welcome event to others that he brought with him a wife of such\nexquisite loveliness, and Father Heilmann as a witness of their\nmarriage, Bertalda could not but view the affair with grief and\nvexation. She had, in truth, become attached to the young knight with\nher whole soul; and her mourning for his absence, or supposed death, had\nshown this more than she could now have wished.\n\nBut notwithstanding all this, she conducted herself like a wise maiden\nin circumstances of such delicacy, and lived on the most friendly\nterms with Undine, whom the whole city looked upon as a princess that\nHuldbrand had rescued in the forest from some evil enchantment. Whenever\nany one questioned either herself or her husband relative to surmises of\nthis nature, they had wisdom enough to remain silent, or wit enough\nto evade the inquiries. The lips of Father Heilmann had been sealed\nin regard to idle gossip of every kind; and besides, on Huldbrand\u2019s\narrival, he had immediately returned to his cloister: so that people\nwere obliged to rest contented with their own wild conjectures; and even\nBertalda herself ascertained nothing more of the truth than others.\n\nFor the rest, Undine daily felt more love for the fair maiden. \u201cWe must\nhave been before acquainted with each other,\u201d she often used to say to\nher, \u201cor else there must be some mysterious connection between us,\nfor it is incredible that any one so perfectly without cause--I mean,\nwithout some deep and secret cause--should be so fondly attached to\nanother as I have been to you from the first moment of our meeting.\u201d\n\nAnd even Bertalda could not deny that she felt a confiding impulse,\nan attraction of tenderness toward Undine, much as she deemed this\nfortunate rival the cause of her bitterest disappointment. Under the\ninfluence of this mutual regard, they found means to persuade, the\none her foster-parents, and the other her husband, to defer the day of\nseparation to a period more and more remote; nay, more, they had already\nbegun to talk of a plan for Bertalda\u2019s accompanying Undine to Castle\nRingstetten, near one of the sources of the Danube.\n\nOnce on a fine evening they happened to be talking over their scheme\njust as they passed the high trees that bordered the public walk.\nThe young married pair, though it was somewhat late, had called upon\nBertalda to invite her to share their enjoyment; and all three proceeded\nfamiliarly up and down beneath the dark blue heaven, not seldom\ninterrupted in their converse by the admiration which they could not but\nbestow upon the magnificent fountain in the middle of the square, and\nupon the wonderful rush and shooting upward of its waters. All was sweet\nand soothing to their minds. Among the shadows of the trees stole in\nglimmerings of light from the adjacent houses (sic). A low murmur as\nof children at play, and of other persons who were enjoying their walk,\nfloated around them--they were so alone, and yet sharing so much of\nsocial happiness in the bright and stirring world, that whatever had\nappeared rough by day now became smooth of its own accord. All the three\nfriends could no longer see the slightest cause for hesitation in regard\nto Bertalda\u2019s taking the journey.\n\nAt that instant, while they were just fixing the day of their departure,\na tall man approached them from the middle of the square, bowed\nrespectfully to the company, and spoke something in the young bride\u2019s\near. Though displeased with the interruption and its cause, she walked\naside a few steps with the stranger; and both began to whisper, as it\nseemed, in a foreign tongue. Huldbrand thought he recognized the strange\nman of the forest, and he gazed upon him so fixedly, that he neither\nheard nor answered the astonished inquiries of Bertalda. All at\nonce Undine clapped her hands with delight, and turned back from the\nstranger, laughing: he, frequently shaking his head, retired with\na hasty step and discontented air, and descended into the fountain.\nHuldbrand now felt perfectly certain that his conjecture was correct.\nBut Bertalda asked:\n\n\u201cWhat, then, dear Undine, did the master of the fountain wish to say to\nyou?\u201d\n\nUndine laughed within herself, and made answer: \u201cThe day after\nto-morrow, my dear child, when the anniversary of your name-day returns,\nyou shall be informed.\u201d And this was all she could be prevailed upon to\ndisclose. She merely asked Bertalda to dinner on the appointed day, and\nrequested her to invite her foster-parents; and soon afterwards they\nseparated.\n\n\u201cKuhleborn?\u201d said Huldbrand to his lovely wife, with an inward shudder\nwhen they had taken leave of Bertalda, and were now going home through\nthe darkening streets.\n\n\u201cYes, it was he,\u201d answered Undine; \u201cand he would have wearied me\nwith his foolish warnings. But, in the midst, quite contrary to his\nintentions, he delighted me with a most welcome piece of news. If you,\nmy dear lord and husband, wish me to acquaint you with it now, you\nneed only command me, and I will freely and from my heart tell you all\nwithout reserve. But would you confer upon your Undine a very, very\ngreat pleasure, wait till the day after to-morrow, and then you too\nshall have your share of the surprise.\u201d\n\nThe knight was quite willing to gratify his wife in what she had asked\nso sweetly. And even as she was falling asleep, she murmured to herself,\nwith a smile: \u201cHow she will rejoice and be astonished at what her master\nof the fountain has told me!--dear, dear Bertalda!\u201d\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER 6\n\n\n\nThe company were sitting at dinner. Bertalda, adorned with jewels and\nflowers without number, the presents of her foster-parents and friends,\nand looking like some goddess of spring, sat beside Undine and Huldbrand\nat the head of the table. When the sumptuous repast was ended, and the\ndessert was placed before them, permission was given that the doors\nshould be left open: this was in accordance with the good old custom in\nGermany, that the common people might see and rejoice in the festivity\nof their superiors. Among these spectators the servants carried round\ncake and wine.\n\nHuldbrand and Bertalda waited with secret impatience for the promised\nexplanation, and hardly moved their eyes from Undine. But she still\ncontinued silent, and merely smiled to herself with secret and heartfelt\nsatisfaction. All who were made acquainted with the promise she had\ngiven could perceive that she was every moment on the point of revealing\na happy secret; and yet, as children sometimes delay tasting their\nchoicest dainties, she still withheld the communication. Bertalda and\nHuldbrand shared the same delightful feeling, while in anxious hope they\nwere expecting the unknown disclosure which they were to receive from\nthe lips of their friend.\n\nAt this moment several of the company pressed Undine to sing. This she\nseemed pleased at; and ordering her lute to be brought, she sang the\nfollowing words:--\n\n\n                   \u201cMorning so bright,\n                    Wild-flowers so gay,\n                    Where high grass so dewy\n                    Crowns the wavy lake\u2019s border.\n\n                    On the meadow\u2019s verdant bosom\n                    What glimmers there so white?\n                    Have wreaths of snowy blossoms,\n                    Soft-floating, fallen from heaven?\n\n                    Ah, see! a tender infant!--\n                    It plays with flowers, unwittingly;\n                    It strives to grasp morn\u2019s golden beams.\n                    O where, sweet stranger, where\u2019s your home?\n                    Afar from unknown shores\n                    The waves have wafted hither\n                    This helpless little one.\n\n                    Nay, clasp not, tender darling,\n                    With tiny hand the flowers!\n                    No hand returns the pressure,\n                    The flowers are strange and mute.\n\n                    They clothe themselves in beauty,\n                    They breathe a rich perfume:\n                    But cannot fold around you\n                    A mother\u2019s loving arms;--\n                    Far, far away that mother\u2019s fond embrace.\n\n                    Life\u2019s early dawn just opening faint,\n                    Your eye yet beaming heaven\u2019s own smile,\n                    So soon your tenderest guardians gone;\n                    Severe, poor child, your fate,--\n                    All, all to you unknown.\n\n                    A noble duke has crossed the mead,\n                    And near you checked his steed\u2019s career:\n                    Wonder and pity touch his heart;\n                    With knowledge high, and manners pure,\n                    He rears you,--makes his castle home your own.\n\n                    How great, how infinite your gain!\n                    Of all the land you bloom the loveliest;\n                    Yet, ah! the priceless blessing,\n                    The bliss of parents\u2019 fondness,\n                    You left on strands unknown!\u201d\n\n\nUndine let fall her lute with a melancholy smile. The eyes of Bertalda\u2019s\nnoble foster-parents were filled with tears.\n\n\u201cAh yes, it was so--such was the morning on which I found you, poor\norphan!\u201d cried the duke, with deep emotion; \u201cthe beautiful singer is\ncertainly right: still\n\n\n                        \u2018The priceless blessing,\n                    The bliss of parents\u2019 fondness,\u2019\n\n\nit was beyond our power to give you.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut we must hear, also, what happened to the poor parents,\u201d said\nUndine, as she struck the chords, and sung:--\n\n\n                  \u201cThrough her chambers roams the mother\n                     Searching, searching everywhere;\n                   Seeks, and knows not what, with yearning,\n                     Childless house still finding there.\n\n                   Childless house!--O sound of anguish!\n                     She alone the anguish knows,\n                   There by day who led her dear one,\n                     There who rocked its night-repose.\n\n                   Beechen buds again are swelling,\n                     Sunshine warms again the shore;\n                   Ah, fond mother, cease your searching!\n                     Comes the loved and lost no more.\n\n                   Then when airs of eve are fresh\u2019ning,\n                     Home the father wends his way,\n                   While with smiles his woe he\u2019s veiling,\n                     Gushing tears his heart betray.\n\n                   Well he knows, within his dwelling,\n                     Still as death he\u2019ll find the gloom,\n                   Only hear the mother moaning,--\n                     No sweet babe to SMILE him home.\u201d\n\n\n\u201cO, tell me, in the name of Heaven tell me, Undine, where are my\nparents?\u201d cried the weeping Bertalda. \u201cYou certainly know; you must have\ndiscovered them, you wonderful being; for, otherwise you would never\nhave thus torn my heart. Can they be already here? May I believe it\npossible?\u201d Her eye glanced rapidly over the brilliant company,\nand rested upon a lady of high rank who was sitting next to her\nfoster-father.\n\nThen, bending her head, Undine beckoned toward the door, while her eyes\noverflowed with the sweetest emotion. \u201cWhere, then, are the poor parents\nwaiting?\u201d she asked; and the old fisherman, hesitating, advanced with\nhis wife from the crowd of spectators. They looked inquiringly, now at\nUndine, and now at the beautiful lady who was said to be their daughter.\n\n\u201cIt is she! it is she there before you!\u201d exclaimed the restorer of their\nchild, her voice half choked with rapture. And both the aged parents\nembraced their recovered daughter, weeping aloud and praising God.\n\nBut, terrified and indignant, Bertalda tore herself from their arms.\nSuch a discovery was too much for her proud spirit to bear, especially\nat the moment when she had doubtless expected to see her former\nsplendour increased, and when hope was picturing to her nothing less\nbrilliant than a royal canopy and a crown. It seemed to her as if her\nrival had contrived all this on purpose to humble her before Huldbrand\nand the whole world. She reproached Undine; she reviled the old\npeople; and even such offensive words as \u201cdeceiver, bribed and perjured\nimpostors,\u201d burst from her lips.\n\nThe aged wife of the fisherman then said to herself, in a low voice:\n\u201cAh, my God, she has become wicked! and yet I feel in my heart that she\nis my child.\u201d\n\nThe old fisherman had meanwhile folded his hands, and offered up a\nsilent prayer that she might NOT be his daughter.\n\nUndine, faint and pale as death, turned from the parents to Bertalda,\nfrom Bertalda to the parents. She was suddenly cast dawn from all that\nheaven of happiness in which she had been dreaming, and plunged into an\nagony of terror and disappointment, which she had never known even in\ndreams.\n\n\u201cHave you, then, a soul? Have you indeed a soul, Bertalda?\u201d she cried\nagain and again to her angry friend, as if with vehement effort she\nwould arouse her from a sudden delirium or some distracting dream of\nnight, and restore her to recollection.\n\nBut when Bertalda became every moment only more and more enraged--when\nthe disappointed parents began to weep aloud--and the company, with much\nwarmth of dispute, were espousing opposite sides--she begged, with\nsuch earnestness and dignity, for the liberty of speaking in this\nher husband\u2019s hall, that all around her were in an instant hushed to\nsilence. She then advanced to the upper end of the table, where, both\nhumbled and haughty, Bertalda had seated herself, and, while every eye\nwas fastened upon her, spoke in the following manner:--\n\n\u201cMy friends, you appear dissatisfied and disturbed; and you are\ninterrupting, with your strife, a festivity I had hoped would bring joy\nto you and to me. Ah! I knew nothing of your heartless ways of thinking;\nand never shall understand them: I am not to blame for the mischief this\ndisclosure has done. Believe me, little as you may imagine this to be\nthe case, it is wholly owing to yourselves. One word more, therefore, is\nall I have to add; but this is one that must be spoken:--I have\nuttered nothing but truth. Of the certainty of the fact, I give you the\nstrongest assurance. No other proof can I or will I produce, but this\nI will affirm in the presence of God. The person who gave me this\ninformation was the very same who decoyed the infant Bertalda into the\nwater, and who, after thus taking her from her parents, placed her on\nthe green grass of the meadow, where he knew the duke was to pass.\u201d\n\n\u201cShe is an enchantress!\u201d cried Bertalda; \u201ca witch, that has intercourse\nwith evil spirits. She acknowledges it herself.\u201d\n\n\u201cNever! I deny it!\u201d replied Undine, while a whole heaven of innocence\nand truth beamed from her eyes. \u201cI am no witch; look upon me, and say if\nI am.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen she utters both falsehood and folly,\u201d cried Bertalda; \u201cand she\nis unable to prove that I am the child of these low people. My noble\nparents, I entreat you to take me from this company, and out of this\ncity, where they do nothing but shame me.\u201d\n\nBut the aged duke, a man of honourable feeling, remained unmoved; and\nhis wife remarked:\n\n\u201cWe must thoroughly examine into this matter. God forbid that we should\nmove a step from this hall before we do so.\u201d\n\nThen the aged wife of the fisherman drew near, made a low obeisance to\nthe duchess and said: \u201cNoble and pious lady, you have opened my heart.\nPermit me to tell you, that if this evil-disposed maiden is my daughter,\nshe has a mark like a violet between her shoulders, and another of the\nsame kind on the instep of her left foot. If she will only consent to go\nout of the hall with me--\u201d\n\n\u201cI will not consent to uncover myself before the peasant woman,\u201d\n interrupted Bertalda, haughtily turning her back upon her.\n\n\u201cBut before me you certainly will,\u201d replied the duchess gravely. \u201cYou\nwill follow me into that room, maiden; and the old woman shall go with\nus.\u201d\n\nThe three disappeared, and the rest continued where they were, in\nbreathless expectation. In a few minutes the females returned--Bertalda\npale as death; and the duchess said: \u201cJustice must be done; I therefore\ndeclare that our lady hostess has spoken exact truth. Bertalda is the\nfisherman\u2019s daughter; no further proof is required; and this is all of\nwhich, on the present occasion, you need to be informed.\u201d\n\nThe princely pair went out with their adopted daughter; the fisherman,\nat a sign from the duke, followed them with his wife. The other guests\nretired in silence, or suppressing their murmurs; while Undine sank\nweeping into the arms of Huldbrand.\n\nThe lord of Ringstetten would certainly have been more gratified, had\nthe events of this day been different; but even such as they now were,\nhe could by no means look upon them as unwelcome, since his lovely wife\nhad shown herself so full of goodness, sweetness, and kindliness.\n\n\u201cIf I have given her a soul,\u201d he could not help saying to himself, \u201cI\nhave assuredly given her a better one than my own;\u201d and now he only\nthought of soothing and comforting his weeping wife, and of removing\nher even so early as the morrow from a place which, after this cross\naccident, could not fail to be distasteful to her. Yet it is certain\nthat the opinion of the public concerning her was not changed. As\nsomething extraordinary had long before been expected of her, the\nmysterious discovery of Bertalda\u2019s parentage had occasioned little or no\nsurprise; and every one who became acquainted with Bertalda\u2019s story, and\nwith the violence of her behaviour on that occasion, was only disgusted\nand set against her. Of this state of things, however, the knight and\nhis lady were as yet ignorant; besides, whether the public condemned\nBertalda or herself, the one view of the affair would have been as\ndistressing to Undine as the other; and thus they came to the conclusion\nthat the wisest course they could take, was to leave behind them the\nwalls of the old city with all the speed in their power.\n\nWith the earliest beams of morning, a brilliant carriage for Undine\ndrove up to the door of the inn; the horses of Huldbrand and his\nattendants stood near, stamping the pavement, impatient to proceed. The\nknight was leading his beautiful wife from the door, when a fisher-girl\ncame up and met them in the way.\n\n\u201cWe have no need of your fish,\u201d said Huldbrand, accosting her; \u201cwe are\nthis moment setting out on a journey.\u201d\n\nUpon this the fisher-girl began to weep bitterly; and then it was that\nthe young couple first perceived it was Bertalda. They immediately\nreturned with her to their apartment, when she informed them that, owing\nto her unfeeling and violent conduct of the preceding day, the duke and\nduchess had been so displeased with her, as entirely to withdraw from\nher their protection, though not before giving her a generous portion.\nThe fisherman, too, had received a handsome gift, and had, the evening\nbefore, set out with his wife for his peninsula.\n\n\u201cI would have gone with them,\u201d she pursued, \u201cbut the old fisherman, who\nis said to be my father--\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is, in truth, your father, Bertalda,\u201d said Undine, interrupting her.\n\u201cSee, the stranger whom you took for the master of the water-works gave\nme all the particulars. He wished to dissuade me from taking you with me\nto Castle Ringstetten, and therefore disclosed to me the whole mystery.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell then,\u201d continued Bertalda, \u201cmy father--if it must needs be so--my\nfather said: \u2018I will not take you with me until you are changed. If you\nwill venture to come to us alone through the ill-omened forest, that\nshall be a proof of your having some regard for us. But come not to me\nas a lady; come merely as a fisher-girl.\u2019 I do as he bade me, for since\nI am abandoned by all the world, I will live and die in solitude, a poor\nfisher-girl, with parents equally poor. The forest, indeed, appears\nvery terrible to me. Horrible spectres make it their haunt, and I am so\nfearful. But how can I help it? I have only come here at this early hour\nto beg the noble lady of Ringstetten to pardon my unbecoming behaviour\nof yesterday. Sweet lady, I have the fullest persuasion that you meant\nto do me a kindness, but you were not aware how severely you would\nwound me; and then, in my agony and surprise, so many rash and frantic\nexpressions burst from my lips. Forgive me, ah, forgive me! I am in\ntruth so unhappy, already. Only consider what I was but yesterday\nmorning, what I was even at the beginning of your yesterday\u2019s festival,\nand what I am to-day!\u201d\n\nHer words now became inarticulate, lost in a passionate flow of tears,\nwhile Undine, bitterly weeping with her, fell upon her neck. So powerful\nwas her emotion, that it was a long time before she could utter a word.\nAt length she said:\n\n\u201cYou shall still go with us to Ringstetten; all shall remain just as\nwe lately arranged it; but say \u2018thou\u2019 to me again, and do not call me\n\u2018noble lady\u2019 any more. Consider, we were changed for each other when\nwe were children; even then we were united by a like fate, and we will\nstrengthen this union with such close affection as no human power shall\ndissolve. Only first of all you must go with us to Ringstetten. How we\nshall share all things as sisters, we can talk of after we arrive.\u201d\n\nBertalda looked up to Huldbrand with timid inquiry. He pitied her in her\naffliction, took her hand, and begged her tenderly to entrust herself to\nhim and his wife.\n\n\u201cWe will send a message to your parents,\u201d continued he, \u201cgiving them the\nreason why you have not come;\u201d--and he would have added more about his\nworthy friends of the peninsula, when, perceiving that Bertalda shrank\nin distress at the mention of them, he refrained. He took her under\nthe arm, lifted her first into the carriage, then Undine, and was soon\nriding blithely beside them; so persevering was he, too, in urging\nforward their driver, that in a short time they had left behind them the\nlimits of the city, and a crowd of painful recollections; and now the\nladies could take delight in the beautiful country which their progress\nwas continually presenting.\n\nAfter a journey of some days, they arrived, on a fine evening, at Castle\nRingstetten. The young knight being much engaged with the overseers and\nmenials of his establishment, Undine and Bertalda were left alone. They\ntook a walk upon the high rampart of the fortress, and were charmed with\nthe delightful landscape which the fertile Suabia spread around them.\nWhile they were viewing the scene, a tall man drew near, who greeted\nthem with respectful civility, and who seemed to Bertalda much\nto resemble the director of the city fountain. Still less was the\nresemblance to be mistaken, when Undine, indignant at his intrusion,\nwaved him off with an air of menace; while he, shaking his head,\nretreated with rapid strides, as he had formerly done, then glided among\nthe trees of a neighbouring grove and disappeared.\n\n\u201cDo not be terrified, Bertalda,\u201d said Undine; \u201cthe hateful master of the\nfountain shall do you no harm this time.\u201d And then she related to her\nthe particulars of her history, and who she was herself--how Bertalda\nhad been taken away from the people of the peninsula, and Undine left in\nher place. This relation at first filled the young maiden with amazement\nand alarm; she imagined her friend must be seized with a sudden\nmadness. But from the consistency of her story, she became more and more\nconvinced that all was true, it so well agreed with former occurrences,\nand still more convinced from that inward feeling with which truth\nnever fails to make itself known to us. She could not but view it as an\nextraordinary circumstance that she was herself now living, as it were,\nin the midst of one of those wild tales which she had formerly heard\nrelated. She gazed upon Undine with reverence, but could not keep from a\nshuddering feeling which seemed to come between her and her friend;\nand she could not but wonder when the knight, at their evening repast,\nshowed himself so kind and full of love towards a being who appeared to\nher, after the discoveries just made, more to resemble a phantom of the\nspirit-world than one of the human race.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER 7\n\n\n\nThe writer of this tale, both because it moves his own heart and he\nwishes it to move that of others, asks a favour of you, dear reader.\nForgive him if he passes over a considerable space of time in a few\nwords, and only tells you generally what therein happened. He knows well\nthat it might be unfolded skilfully, and step by step, how Huldbrand\u2019s\nheart began to turn from Undine and towards Bertalda--how Bertalda met\nthe young knight with ardent love, and how they both looked upon the\npoor wife as a mysterious being, more to be dreaded than pitied--how\nUndine wept, and her tears stung the conscience of her husband, without\nrecalling his former love; so that though at times he showed kindness\nto her, a cold shudder soon forced him to turn from her to his\nfellow-mortal Bertalda;--all this, the writer knows, might have been\ndrawn out fully, and perhaps it ought to have been. But it would have\nmade him too sad; for he has witnessed such things, and shrinks from\nrecalling even their shadow. Thou knowest, probably, the like feeling,\ndear reader; for it is the lot of mortal man. Happy art thou if thou\nhast received the injury, not inflicted it; for in this case it is\nmore blessed to receive than to give. Then only a soft sorrow at such a\nrecollection passes through thy heart, and perhaps a quiet tear trickles\ndown thy cheek over the faded flowers in which thou once so heartily\nrejoiced. This is enough: we will not pierce our hearts with a thousand\nseparate stings, but only bear in mind that all happened as I just now\nsaid.\n\nPoor Undine was greatly troubled; and the other two were very far from\nbeing happy. Bertalda in particular, whenever she was in the slightest\ndegree opposed in her wishes, attributed the cause to the jealousy and\noppression of the injured wife. She was therefore daily in the habit of\nshowing a haughty and imperious demeanour, to which Undine yielded with\na sad submission; and which was generally encouraged strongly by the now\nblinded Huldbrand.\n\nWhat disturbed the inmates of the castle still more, was the endless\nvariety of wonderful apparitions which assailed Huldbrand and Bertalda\nin the vaulted passages of the building, and of which nothing had ever\nbeen heard before within the memory of man. The tall white man, in\nwhom Huldbrand but too plainly recognized Undine\u2019s uncle Kuhleborn, and\nBertalda the spectral master of the waterworks, often passed before them\nwith threatening aspect and gestures; more especially, however, before\nBertalda, so that, through terror, she had several times already fallen\nsick, and had, in consequence, frequently thought of quitting the\ncastle. Yet partly because Huldbrand was but too dear to her, and she\ntrusted to her innocence, since no words of love had passed between\nthem, and partly also because she knew not whither to direct her steps,\nshe lingered where she was.\n\nThe old fisherman, on receiving the message from the lord of Ringstetten\nthat Bertalda was his guest, returned answer in some lines almost too\nillegible to be deciphered, but still the best his advanced life and\nlong disuse of writing permitted him to form.\n\n\u201cI have now become,\u201d he wrote, \u201ca poor old widower, for my beloved and\nfaithful wife is dead. But lonely as I now sit in my cottage, I prefer\nBertalda\u2019s remaining where she is, to her living with me. Only let her\ndo nothing to hurt my dear Undine, else she will have my curse.\u201d\n\nThe last words of this letter Bertalda flung to the winds; but the\npermission to remain from home, which her father had granted her, she\nremembered and clung to--just as we are all of us wont to do in similar\ncircumstances.\n\nOne day, a few moments after Huldbrand had ridden out, Undine called\ntogether the domestics of the family, and ordered them to bring a large\nstone, and carefully to cover with it a magnificent fountain, that was\nsituated in the middle of the castle court. The servants objected that\nit would oblige them to bring water from the valley below. Undine smiled\nsadly.\n\n\u201cI am sorry, my friends,\u201d replied she, \u201cto increase your labour; I would\nrather bring up the water-vessels myself: but this fountain must indeed\nbe closed. Believe me when I say that it must be done, and that only by\ndoing it we can avoid a greater evil.\u201d\n\nThe domestics were all rejoiced to gratify their gentle mistress; and\nmaking no further inquiry, they seized the enormous stone. While they\nwere raising it in their hands, and were now on the point of adjusting\nit over the fountain, Bertalda came running to the place, and cried,\nwith an air of command, that they must stop; that the water she used,\nso improving to her complexion, was brought from this fountain, and that\nshe would by no means allow it to be closed.\n\nThis time, however, Undine, while she showed her usual gentleness,\nshowed more than her usual resolution: she said it belonged to her, as\nmistress of the house, to direct the household according to her best\njudgment; and that she was accountable in this to no one but her lord\nand husband.\n\n\u201cSee, O pray see,\u201d exclaimed the dissatisfied and indignant Bertalda,\n\u201chow the beautiful water is curling and curving, winding and waving\nthere, as if disturbed at being shut out from the bright sunshine, and\nfrom the cheerful view of the human countenance, for whose mirror it was\ncreated.\u201d\n\nIn truth the water of the fountain was agitated, and foaming and hissing\nin a surprising manner; it seemed as if there were something within\npossessing life and will, that was struggling to free itself from\nconfinement. But Undine only the more earnestly urged the accomplishment\nof her commands. This earnestness was scarcely required. The servants\nof the castle were as happy in obeying their gentle lady, as in opposing\nthe haughty spirit of Bertalda; and however the latter might scold\nand threaten, still the stone was in a few minutes lying firm over the\nopening of the fountain. Undine leaned thoughtfully over it, and wrote\nwith her beautiful fingers on the flat surface. She must, however,\nhave had something very sharp and corrosive in her hand, for when she\nretired, and the domestics went up to examine the stone, they discovered\nvarious strange characters upon it, which none of them had seen there\nbefore.\n\nWhen the knight returned home, toward evening, Bertalda received him\nwith tears, and complaints of Undine\u2019s conduct. He cast a severe glance\nof reproach at his poor wife, and she looked down in distress; yet she\nsaid very calmly:\n\n\u201cMy lord and husband, you never reprove even a bondslave before you hear\nhis defence; how much less, then, your wedded wife!\u201d\n\n\u201cSpeak! what moved you to this singular conduct?\u201d said the knight with a\ngloomy countenance.\n\n\u201cI could wish to tell you when we are entirely alone,\u201d said Undine, with\na sigh.\n\n\u201cYou can tell me equally well in the presence of Bertalda,\u201d he replied.\n\n\u201cYes, if you command me,\u201d said Undine; \u201cbut do not command me--pray,\npray do not!\u201d\n\nShe looked so humble, affectionate, and obedient, that the heart of the\nknight was touched and softened, as if it felt the influence of a ray\nfrom better times. He kindly took her arm within his, and led her to his\napartment, where she spoke as follows:\n\n\u201cYou already know something, my beloved lord, of Kuhleborn, my\nevil-disposed uncle, and have often felt displeasure at meeting him in\nthe passages of this castle. Several times has he terrified Bertalda\neven to swooning. He does this because he possesses no soul, being a\nmere elemental mirror of the outward world, while of the world within\nhe can give no reflection. Then, too, he sometimes observes that you\nare displeased with me, that in my childish weakness I weep at this, and\nthat Bertalda, it may be, laughs at the same moment. Hence it is that he\nimagines all is wrong with us, and in various ways mixes with our circle\nunbidden. What do I gain by reproving him, by showing displeasure, and\nsending him away? He does not believe a word I say. His poor nature has\nno idea that the joys and sorrows of love have so sweet a resemblance,\nand are so intimately connected that no power on earth is able to\nseparate them. A smile shines in the midst of tears, and a smile calls\nforth tears from their dwelling-place.\u201d\n\nShe looked up at Huldbrand, smiling and weeping, and he again felt\nwithin his heart all the magic of his former love. She perceived it, and\npressed him more tenderly to her, while with tears of joy she went on\nthus:\n\n\u201cWhen the disturber of our peace would not be dismissed with words, I\nwas obliged to shut the door upon him; and the only entrance by which\nhe has access to us is that fountain. His connection with the other\nwater-spirits here in this region is cut off by the valleys that border\nupon us; and his kingdom first commences farther off on the Danube, in\nwhose tributary streams some of his good friends have their abode. For\nthis reason I caused the stone to be placed over the opening of the\nfountain, and inscribed characters upon it, which baffle all the efforts\nof my suspicious uncle; so that he now has no power of intruding either\nupon you or me, or Bertalda. Human beings, it is true, notwithstanding\nthe characters I have inscribed there, are able to raise the stone\nwithout any extraordinary trouble; there is nothing to prevent them. If\nyou choose, therefore, remove it, according to Bertalda\u2019s desire; but\nshe assuredly knows not what she asks. The rude Kuhleborn looks with\npeculiar ill-will upon her; and should those things come to pass that he\nhas predicted to me, and which may happen without your meaning any evil,\nah! dearest, even you yourself would be exposed to peril.\u201d\n\nHuldbrand felt the generosity of his gentle wife in the depth of\nhis heart, since she had been so active in confining her formidable\ndefender, and even at the very moment she was reproached for it by\nBertalda. He pressed her in his arms with the tenderest affection, and\nsaid with emotion:\n\n\u201cThe stone shall remain unmoved; all remains, and ever shall remain,\njust as you choose to have it, my sweetest Undine!\u201d\n\nAt these long-withheld expressions of tenderness, she returned his\ncaresses with lowly delight, and at length said:\n\n\u201cMy dearest husband, since you are so kind and indulgent to-day, may I\nventure to ask a favour of you? See now, it is with you as with\nsummer. Even amid its highest splendour, summer puts on the flaming and\nthundering crown of glorious tempests, in which it strongly resembles a\nking and god on earth. You, too, are sometimes terrible in your rebukes;\nyour eyes flash lightning, while thunder resounds in your voice; and\nalthough this may be quite becoming to you, I in my folly cannot but\nsometimes weep at it. But never, I entreat you, behave thus toward me\non a river, or even when we are near any water. For if you should, my\nrelations would acquire a right over me. They would inexorably tear me\nfrom you in their fury, because they would conceive that one of their\nrace was injured; and I should be compelled, as long as I lived, to\ndwell below in the crystal palaces, and never dare to ascend to you\nagain; or should THEY SEND me up to you!--O God! that would be far worse\nstill. No, no, my beloved husband; let it not come to that, if your poor\nUndine is dear to you.\u201d\n\nHe solemnly promised to do as she desired, and, inexpressibly happy and\nfull of affection, the married pair returned from the apartment. At this\nvery moment Bertalda came with some work-people whom she had meanwhile\nordered to attend her, and said with a fretful air, which she had\nassumed of late:\n\n\u201cWell, now the secret consultation is at an end, the stone may be\nremoved. Go out, workmen, and see to it.\u201d\n\nThe knight, however, highly resenting her impertinence, said, in brief\nand very decisive terms: \u201cThe stone remains where it is!\u201d He reproved\nBertalda also for the vehemence that she had shown towards his wife.\nWhereupon the workmen, smiling with secret satisfaction, withdrew; while\nBertalda, pale with rage, hurried away to her room.\n\nWhen the hour of supper came, Bertalda was waited for in vain. They sent\nfor her; but the domestic found her apartments empty, and brought back\nwith him only a sealed letter, addressed to the knight. He opened it in\nalarm, and read:\n\n\u201cI feel with shame that I am only the daughter of a poor fisherman. That\nI for one moment forgot this, I will make expiation in the miserable hut\nof my parents. Farewell to you and your beautiful wife!\u201d\n\nUndine was troubled at heart. With eagerness she entreated Huldbrand to\nhasten after their friend, who had flown, and bring her back with him.\nAlas! she had no occasion to urge him. His passion for Bertalda again\nburst forth with vehemence. He hurried round the castle, inquiring\nwhether any one had seen which way the fair fugitive had gone. He\ncould gain no information; and was already in the court on his horse,\ndetermining to take at a venture the road by which he had conducted\nBertalda to the castle, when there appeared a page, who assured him that\nhe had met the lady on the path to the Black Valley. Swift as an arrow,\nthe knight sprang through the gate in the direction pointed out, without\nhearing Undine\u2019s voice of agony, as she cried after him from the window:\n\n\u201cTo the Black Valley? Oh, not there! Huldbrand, not there! Or if you\nwill go, for Heaven\u2019s sake take me with you!\u201d\n\nBut when she perceived that all her calling was of no avail, she ordered\nher white palfrey to be instantly saddled, and followed the knight,\nwithout permitting a single servant to accompany her.\n\nThe Black Valley lies secluded far among the mountains. What its present\nname may be I am unable to say. At the time of which I am speaking, the\ncountry-people gave it this appellation from the deep obscurity produced\nby the shadows of lofty trees, more especially by a crowded growth of\nfirs that covered this region of moorland. Even the brook, which bubbled\nbetween the rocks, assumed the same dark hue, and showed nothing of that\ncheerful aspect which streams are wont to wear that have the blue sky\nimmediately over them.\n\nIt was now the dusk of evening; and between the heights it had become\nextremely wild and gloomy. The knight, in great anxiety, skirted the\nborder of the brook. He was at one time fearful that, by delay, he\nshould allow the fugitive to advance too far before him; and then again,\nin his too eager rapidity, he was afraid he might somewhere overlook\nand pass by her, should she be desirous of concealing herself from his\nsearch. He had in the meantime penetrated pretty far into the valley,\nand might hope soon to overtake the maiden, provided he were pursuing\nthe right track. The fear, indeed, that he might not as yet have gained\nit, made his heart beat with more and more of anxiety. In the stormy\nnight which was now approaching, and which always fell more fearfully\nover this valley, where would the delicate Bertalda shelter herself,\nshould he fail to find her? At last, while these thoughts were darting\nacross his mind, he saw something white glimmer through the branches on\nthe ascent of the mountain. He thought he recognized Bertalda\u2019s robe;\nand he directed his course towards it. But his horse refused to go\nforward; he reared with a fury so uncontrollable, and his master was so\nunwilling to lose a moment, that (especially as he saw the thickets were\naltogether impassable on horseback) he dismounted, and, having fastened\nhis snorting steed to an elm, worked his way with caution through the\nmatted underwood. The branches, moistened by the cold drops of the\nevening dew, struck against his forehead and cheeks; distant thunder\nmuttered from the further side of the mountains; and everything put on\nso strange an appearance, that he began to feel a dread of the white\nfigure, which now lay at a short distance from him upon the ground.\nStill, he could see distinctly that it was a female, either asleep or\nin a swoon, and dressed in long white garments such as Bertalda had worn\nthe past day. Approaching quite near to her, he made a rustling with the\nbranches and a ringing with his sword; but she did not move.\n\n\u201cBertalda!\u201d he cried, at first low, then louder and louder; yet she\nheard him not. At last, when he uttered the dear name with an energy yet\nmore powerful, a hollow echo from the mountain-summits around the valley\nreturned the deadened sound, \u201cBertalda!\u201d Still the sleeper continued\ninsensible. He stooped down; but the duskiness of the valley, and the\nobscurity of twilight would not allow him to distinguish her features.\nWhile, with painful uncertainty, he was bending over her, a flash of\nlightning suddenly shot across the valley. By this stream of light he\nsaw a frightfully distorted visage close to his own, and a hoarse voice\nreached his ear:\n\n\u201cYou enamoured swain, give me a kiss!\u201d Huldbrand sprang upon his feet\nwith a cry of horror, and the hideous figure rose with him.\n\n\u201cGo home!\u201d it cried, with a deep murmur: \u201cthe fiends are abroad. Go\nhome! or I have you!\u201d And it stretched towards him its long white arms.\n\n\u201cMalicious Kuhleborn!\u201d exclaimed the knight, with restored energy; \u201cif\nKuhleborn you are, what business have you here?--what\u2019s your will, you\ngoblin? There, take your kiss!\u201d And in fury he struck his sword at the\nform. But it vanished like vapour; and a rush of water, which wetted\nhim through and through, left him in no doubt with what foe he had been\nengaged.\n\n\u201cHe wishes to frighten me back from my pursuit of Bertalda,\u201d said he to\nhimself. \u201cHe imagines that I shall be terrified at his senseless tricks,\nand resign the poor distressed maiden to his power, so that he can wreak\nhis vengeance upon her at will. But that he shall not, weak spirit of\nthe flood! What the heart of man can do, when it exerts the full force\nof its will and of its noblest powers, the poor goblin cannot fathom.\u201d\n\nHe felt the truth of his words, and that they had inspired his heart\nwith fresh courage. Fortune, too, appeared to favour him; for, before\nreaching his fastened steed, he distinctly heard the voice of Bertalda,\nweeping not far before him, amid the roar of the thunder and the\ntempest, which every moment increased. He flew swiftly towards the\nsound, and found the trembling maiden, just as she was attempting to\nclimb the steep, hoping to escape from the dreadful darkness of this\nvalley. He drew near her with expressions of love; and bold and proud as\nher resolution had so lately been, she now felt nothing but joy that the\nman whom she so passionately loved should rescue her from this frightful\nsolitude, and thus call her back to the joyful life in the castle. She\nfollowed almost unresisting, but so spent with fatigue, that the knight\nwas glad to bring her to his horse, which he now hastily unfastened from\nthe elm, in order to lift the fair wanderer upon him, and then to lead\nhim carefully by the reins through the uncertain shades of the valley.\n\nBut, owing to the wild apparition of Kuhleborn, the horse had become\nwholly unmanageable. Rearing and wildly snorting as he was, the knight\nmust have used uncommon effort to mount the beast himself; to place\nthe trembling Bertalda upon him was impossible. They were compelled,\ntherefore, to return home on foot. While with one hand the knight drew\nthe steed after him by the bridle, he supported the tottering Bertalda\nwith the other. She exerted all the strengths in her power in order to\nescape speedily from this vale of terrors. But weariness weighed her\ndown like lead; and all her limbs trembled, partly in consequence\nof what she had suffered from the extreme terror which Kuhleborn had\nalready caused her, and partly from her present fear at the roar of the\ntempest and thunder amid the mountain forest.\n\nAt last she slid from the arm of the knight; and sinking upon the moss,\nshe said: \u201cOnly let me lie here, my noble lord. I suffer the punishment\ndue to my folly; and I must perish here through faintness and dismay.\u201d\n\n\u201cNever, gentle lady, will I leave you,\u201d cried Huldbrand, vainly trying\nto restrain the furious animal he was leading, for the horse was all\nin a foam, and began to chafe more ungovernably than before, till the\nknight was glad to keep him at such a distance from the exhausted maiden\nas to save her from a new alarm. But hardly had he withdrawn five steps\nwith the frantic steed when she began to call after him in the most\nsorrowful accents, fearful that he would actually leave her in this\nhorrible wilderness. He was at a loss what course to take. He would\ngladly have given the enraged beast his liberty; he would have let him\nrush away amid the night and exhaust his fury, had he not feared that\nin this narrow defile his iron-shod hoofs might come thundering over the\nvery spot where Bertalda lay.\n\nIn this extreme peril and embarrassment he heard with delight the\nrumbling wheels of a waggon as it came slowly descending the stony way\nbehind them. He called out for help; answer was returned in the deep\nvoice of a man, bidding them have patience, but promising assistance;\nand two grey horses soon after shone through the bushes, and near them\ntheir driver in the white frock of a carter; and next appeared a great\nsheet of white linen, with which the goods he seemed to be conveying\nwere covered. The greys, in obedience to a shout from their master,\nstood still. He came up to the knight, and aided him in checking the\nfury of the foaming charger.\n\n\u201cI know well enough,\u201d said he, \u201cwhat is the matter with the brute.\nThe first time I travelled this way my horses were just as wilful and\nheadstrong as yours. The reason is, there is a water-spirit haunts this\nvalley--and a wicked wight they say he is--who takes delight in mischief\nand witcheries of this sort. But I have learned a charm; and if you will\nlet me whisper it in your horse\u2019s ear, he will stand just as quiet as my\nsilver greys there.\u201d\n\n\u201cTry your luck, then, and help us as quickly as possible!\u201d said the\nimpatient knight.\n\nUpon this the waggoner drew down the head of the rearing courser close\nto his own, and spoke some words in his ear. The animal instantly stood\nstill and subdued; only his quick panting and smoking sweat showed his\nrecent violence.\n\nHuldbrand had little time to inquire by what means this had been\neffected. He agreed with the man that he should take Bertalda in his\nwaggon, where, as he said, a quantity of soft cotton was stowed, and\nhe might in this way convey her to Castle Ringstetten. The knight could\naccompany them on horseback. But the horse appeared to be too much\nexhausted to carry his master so far. Seeing this, the man advised him\nto mount the waggon with Bertalda. The horse could be attached to it\nbehind.\n\n\u201cIt is down-hill,\u201d said he, \u201cand the load for my greys will therefore be\nlight.\u201d\n\nThe knight accepted his offer, and entered the waggon with Bertalda.\nThe horse followed patiently after, while the waggoner, sturdy and\nattentive, walked beside them.\n\nAmid the silence and deepening obscurity of the night, the tempest\nsounding more and more remote, in the comfortable feeling of their\nsecurity, a confidential conversation arose between Huldbrand and\nBertalda. He reproached her in the most flattering words for her\nresentful flight. She excused herself with humility and feeling; and\nfrom every tone of her voice it shone out, like a lamp guiding to the\nbeloved through night and darkness, that Huldbrand was still dear to\nher. The knight felt the sense of her words rather than heard the words\nthemselves, and answered simply to this sense.\n\nThen the waggoner suddenly shouted, with a startling voice: \u201cUp,\nmy greys, up with your feet! Hey, now together!--show your\nspirit!--remember who you are!\u201d\n\nThe knight bent over the side of the waggon, and saw that the horses\nhad stepped into the midst of a foaming stream, and were, indeed, almost\nswimming, while the wheels of the waggon were rushing round and flashing\nlike mill-wheels; and the waggoner had got on before, to avoid the swell\nof the flood.\n\n\u201cWhat sort of a road is this? It leads into the middle of the stream!\u201d\n cried Huldbrand to his guide.\n\n\u201cNot at all, sir,\u201d returned he, with a laugh; \u201cit is just the contrary.\nThe stream is running in the middle of our road. Only look about you,\nand see how all is overflowed!\u201d\n\nThe whole valley, in fact, was in commotion, as the waters, suddenly\nraised and visibly rising, swept over it.\n\n\u201cIt is Kuhleborn, that evil water-spirit, who wishes to drown us!\u201d\n exclaimed the knight. \u201cHave you no charm of protection against him,\nfriend?\u201d\n\n\u201cI have one,\u201d answered the waggoner; \u201cbut I cannot and must not make use\nof it before you know who I am.\u201d\n\n\u201cIs this a time for riddles?\u201d cried the knight. \u201cThe flood is every\nmoment rising higher; and what does it concern ME to know who YOU are?\u201d\n\n\u201cBut mayhap it does concern you, though,\u201d said the guide; \u201cfor I am\nKuhleborn.\u201d\n\nThus speaking he thrust his head into the waggon, and laughed with a\ndistorted visage. But the waggon remained a waggon no longer; the grey\nhorses were horses no longer; all was transformed to foam--all sank\ninto the waters that rushed and hissed around them; while the\nwaggoner himself, rising in the form of a gigantic wave, dragged the\nvainly-struggling courser under the waters, then rose again huge as a\nliquid tower, swept over the heads of the floating pair, and was on the\npoint of burying them irrecoverably beneath it. Then the soft voice of\nUndine was heard through the uproar; the moon emerged from the clouds;\nand by its light Undine was seen on the heights above the valley.\nShe rebuked, she threatened the floods below her. The menacing and\ntower-like billow vanished, muttering and murmuring; the waters gently\nflowed away under the beams of the moon; while Undine, like a hovering\nwhite dove, flew down from the hill, raised the knight and Bertalda,\nand bore them to a green spot, where, by her earnest efforts, she soon\nrestored them and dispelled their terrors. She then assisted Bertalda\nto mount the white palfrey on which she had herself been borne to the\nvalley; and thus all three returned homeward to Castle Ringstetten.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER 8\n\n\n\nAfter this last adventure they lived at the castle undisturbed and in\npeaceful enjoyment. The knight was more and more impressed with the\nheavenly goodness of his wife, which she had so nobly shown by her\ninstant pursuit and by the rescue she had effected in the Black Valley,\nwhere the power of Kuhleborn again commenced. Undine herself enjoyed\nthat peace and security which never fails the soul as long as it\nknows distinctly that it is on the right path; and besides, in the\nnewly-awakened love and regard of her husband, a thousand gleams of hope\nand joy shone upon her.\n\nBertalda, on the other hand, showed herself grateful, humble, and timid,\nwithout taking to herself any merit for so doing. Whenever Huldbrand or\nUndine began to explain to her their reasons for covering the fountain,\nor their adventures in the Black Valley, she would earnestly entreat\nthem to spare her the recital, for the recollection of the fountain\noccasioned her too much shame, and that of the Black Valley too much\nterror. She learnt nothing more about either of them; and what would\nshe have gained from more knowledge? Peace and joy had visibly taken up\ntheir abode at Castle Ringstetten. They enjoyed their present blessings\nin perfect security, and now imagined that life could produce nothing\nbut pleasant flowers and fruits.\n\nIn this happiness winter came and passed away; and spring, with its\nfoliage of tender green, and its heaven of softest blue, succeeded to\ngladden the hearts of the three inmates of the castle. The season was in\nharmony with their minds, and their minds imparted their own hues to the\nseason. What wonder, then, that its storks and swallows inspired them\nalso with a disposition to travel? On a bright morning, while they were\nwandering down to one of the sources of the Danube, Huldbrand spoke of\nthe magnificence of this noble stream, how it continued swelling as it\nflowed through countries enriched by its waters, with what splendour\nVienna rose and sparkled on its banks, and how it grew lovelier and more\nimposing throughout its progress.\n\n\u201cIt must be glorious to trace its course down to Vienna!\u201d Bertalda\nexclaimed, with warmth; but immediately resuming the humble and modest\ndemeanour she had recently shown, she paused and blushed in silence.\n\nThis much moved Undine; and with the liveliest wish to gratify her\nfriend, she said, \u201cWhat hinders our taking this little voyage?\u201d\n\nBertalda leapt up with delight, and the two friends at the same\nmoment began painting this enchanting voyage on the Danube in the most\nbrilliant colours. Huldbrand, too, agreed to the project with pleasure;\nonly he once whispered, with something of alarm, in Undine\u2019s ear--\n\n\u201cBut at that distance Kuhleborn becomes possessed of his power again!\u201d\n\n\u201cLet him come, let him come,\u201d she answered with a laugh; \u201cI shall be\nthere, and he dares do none of his mischief in my presence.\u201d\n\nThus was the last impediment removed. They prepared for the expedition,\nand soon set out upon it with lively spirits and the brightest hopes.\n\nBut be not surprised, O man, if events almost always happen very\ndifferently from what you expect. That malicious power which lies in\nambush for our destruction delights to lull its chosen victim asleep\nwith sweet songs and golden delusions; while, on the other hand, the\nmessenger of heaven often strikes sharply at our door, to alarm and\nawaken us.\n\nDuring the first days of their passage down the Danube they were\nunusually happy. The further they advanced upon the waters of this proud\nriver, the views became more and more fair. But amid scenes otherwise\nmost delicious, and from which they had promised themselves the purest\ndelight, the stubborn Kuhleborn, dropping all disguise, began to show\nhis power of annoying them. He had no other means of doing this, indeed,\nthan by tricks--for Undine often rebuked the swelling waves or the\ncontrary winds, and then the insolence of the enemy was instantly\nhumbled and subdued; but his attacks were renewed, and Undine\u2019s reproofs\nagain became necessary, so that the pleasure of the fellow-travellers\nwas completely destroyed. The boatmen, too, were continually whispering\nto one another in dismay, and eying their three superiors with distrust,\nwhile even the servants began more and more to form dismal surmises, and\nto watch their master and mistress with looks of suspicion.\n\nHuldbrand often said in his own mind, \u201cThis comes when like marries not\nlike--when a man forms an unnatural union with a sea-maiden.\u201d Excusing\nhimself, as we all love to do, he would add: \u201cI did not, in fact, know\nthat she was a maid of the sea. It is my misfortune that my steps are\nhaunted and disturbed by the wild humours of her kindred, but it is not\nmy crime.\u201d\n\nBy reflections like these, he felt himself in some measure strengthened;\nbut, on the other hand, he felt the more ill-humour, almost dislike,\ntowards Undine. He would look angrily at her, and the unhappy wife but\ntoo well understood his meaning. One day, grieved by this unkindness, as\nwell as exhausted by her unremitted exertions to frustrate the artifices\nof Kuhleborn, she toward evening fell into a deep slumber, rocked and\nsoothed by the gentle motion of the bark. But hardly had she closed\nher eyes, when every person in the boat, in whatever direction he might\nlook, saw the head of a man, frightful beyond imagination: each head\nrose out of the waves, not like that of a person swimming, but quite\nperpendicular, as if firmly fastened to the watery mirror, and yet\nmoving on with the bark. Every one wished to show to his companion what\nterrified himself, and each perceived the same expression of horror on\nthe face of the other, only hands and eyes were directed to a different\nquarter, as if to a point where the monster, half laughing and half\nthreatening, rose opposite to each.\n\nWhen, however, they wished to make one another understand the site,\nand all cried out, \u201cLook, there!\u201d \u201cNo, there!\u201d the frightful heads all\nbecame visible to each, and the whole river around the boat swarmed with\nthe most horrible faces. All raised a scream of terror at the sight, and\nUndine started from sleep. As she opened her eyes, the deformed visages\ndisappeared. But Huldbrand was made furious by so many hideous visions.\nHe would have burst out in wild imprecations, had not Undine with the\nmeekest looks and gentlest tone of voice said--\n\n\u201cFor God\u2019s sake, my husband, do not express displeasure against me\nhere--we are on the water.\u201d\n\nThe knight was silent, and sat down absorbed in deep thought. Undine\nwhispered in his ear, \u201cWould it not be better, my love, to give up this\nfoolish voyage, and return to Castle Ringstetten in peace?\u201d\n\nBut Huldbrand murmured wrathfully: \u201cSo I must become a prisoner in\nmy own castle, and not be allowed to breathe a moment but while the\nfountain is covered? Would to Heaven that your cursed kindred--\u201d\n\nThen Undine pressed her fair hand on his lips caressingly. He said no\nmore; but in silence pondered on all that Undine had before said.\n\nBertalda, meanwhile, had given herself up to a crowd of thronging\nthoughts. Of Undine\u2019s origin she knew a good deal, but not the whole;\nand the terrible Kuhleborn especially remained to her an awful, an\nimpenetrable mystery--never, indeed, had she once heard his name. Musing\nupon these wondrous things, she unclasped, without being fully conscious\nof what she was doing, a golden necklace, which Huldbrand, on one of\nthe preceding days of their passage, had bought for her of a travelling\ntrader; and she was now letting it float in sport just over the\nsurface of the stream, while in her dreamy mood she enjoyed the bright\nreflection it threw on the water, so clear beneath the glow of evening.\nThat instant a huge hand flashed suddenly up from the Danube, seized the\nnecklace in its grasp, and vanished with it beneath the flood. Bertalda\nshrieked aloud, and a scornful laugh came pealing up from the depth of\nthe river.\n\nThe knight could now restrain his wrath no longer. He started up, poured\nforth a torrent of reproaches, heaped curses upon all who interfered\nwith his friends and troubled his life, and dared them all,\nwater-spirits or mermaids, to come within the sweep of his sword.\n\nBertalda, meantime, wept for the loss of the ornament so very dear to\nher heart, and her tears were to Huldbrand as oil poured upon the flame\nof his fury; while Undine held her hand over the side of the boat,\ndipping it in the waves, softly murmuring to herself, and only at times\ninterrupting her strange mysterious whisper to entreat her husband--\n\n\u201cDo not reprove me here, beloved; blame all others as you will, but not\nme. You know why!\u201d And in truth, though he was trembling with excess of\npassion, he kept himself from any word directly against her.\n\nShe then brought up in her wet hand, which she had been holding under\nthe waves, a coral necklace, of such exquisite beauty, such sparkling\nbrilliancy, as dazzled the eyes of all who beheld it. \u201cTake this,\u201d said\nshe, holding it out kindly to Bertalda, \u201cI have ordered it to be brought\nto make some amends for your loss; so do not grieve any more, poor\nchild.\u201d\n\nBut the knight rushed between then, and snatching the beautiful ornament\nout of Undine\u2019s hand, hurled it back into the flood; and, mad with rage,\nexclaimed: \u201cSo, then, you have still a connection with them! In the\nname of all witches go and remain among them with your presents, you\nsorceress, and leave us human beings in peace!\u201d\n\nWith fixed but streaming eyes, poor Undine gazed on him, her hand still\nstretched out, just as when she had so lovingly offered her brilliant\ngift to Bertalda. She then began to weep more and more, as if her heart\nwould break, like an innocent tender child, cruelly aggrieved. At last,\nwearied out, she said: \u201cFarewell, dearest, farewell. They shall do you\nno harm; only remain true, that I may have power to keep them from you.\nBut I must go hence! go hence even in this early youth! Oh, woe, woe!\nwhat have you done! Oh, woe, woe!\u201d\n\nAnd she vanished over the side of the boat. Whether she plunged into the\nstream, or whether, like water melting into water, she flowed away with\nit, they knew not--her disappearance was like both and neither. But she\nwas lost in the Danube, instantly and completely; only little waves were\nyet whispering and sobbing around the boat, and they could almost be\nheard to say, \u201cOh, woe, woe! Ah, remain true! Oh, woe!\u201d\n\nBut Huldbrand, in a passion of burning tears, threw himself upon the\ndeck of the bark; and a deep swoon soon wrapped the wretched man in a\nblessed forgetfulness of misery.\n\nShall we call it a good or an evil thing, that our mourning has no\nlong duration? I mean that deep mourning which comes from the very\nwell-springs of our being, which so becomes one with the lost objects\nof our love that we hardly realize their loss, while our grief devotes\nitself religiously to the honouring of their image until we reach that\nbourne which they have already reached!\n\nTruly all good men observe in a degree this religious devotion; but yet\nit soon ceases to be that first deep grief. Other and new images throng\nin, until, to our sorrow, we experience the vanity of all earthly\nthings. Therefore I must say: Alas, that our mourning should be of such\nshort duration!\n\nThe lord of Ringstetten experienced this; but whether for his good,\nwe shall discover in the sequel of this history. At first he could do\nnothing but weep--weep as bitterly as the poor gentle Undine had wept\nwhen he snatched out of her hand that brilliant ornament, with which\nshe so kindly wished to make amends for Bertalda\u2019s loss. And then he\nstretched his hand out, as she had done, and wept again like her, with\nrenewed violence. He cherished a secret hope, that even the springs of\nlife would at last become exhausted by weeping. And has not the like\nthought passed through the minds of many of us with a painful pleasure\nin times of sore affliction? Bertalda wept with him; and they lived\ntogether a long while at the castle of Ringstetten in undisturbed quiet,\nhonouring the memory of Undine, and having almost wholly forgotten their\nformer attachment. And therefore the good Undine, about this time, often\nvisited Huldbrand\u2019s dreams: she soothed him with soft and affectionate\ncaresses, and then went away again, weeping in silence; so that when he\nawoke, he sometimes knew not how his cheeks came to be so wet--whether\nit was caused by her tears, or only by his own.\n\nBut as time advanced, these visions became less frequent, and the sorrow\nof the knight less keen; still he might never, perhaps, have entertained\nany other wish than thus quietly to think of Undine, and to speak of\nher, had not the old fisherman arrived unexpectedly at the castle, and\nearnestly insisted on Bertalda\u2019s returning with him as his child. He had\nreceived information of Undine\u2019s disappearance; and he was not willing\nto allow Bertalda to continue longer at the castle with the widowed\nknight. \u201cFor,\u201d said he, \u201cwhether my daughter loves me or not is at\npresent what I care not to know; but her good name is at stake: and\nwhere that is the case, nothing else may be thought of.\u201d\n\nThis resolution of the old fisherman, and the fearful solitude that, on\nBertalda\u2019s departure, threatened to oppress the knight in every hall and\npassage of the deserted castle, brought to light what had disappeared in\nhis sorrow for Undine,--I mean, his attachment to the fair Bertalda; and\nthis he made known to her father.\n\nThe fisherman had many objections to make to the proposed marriage. The\nold man had loved Undine with exceeding tenderness, and it was doubtful\nto his mind that the mere disappearance of his beloved child could be\nproperly viewed as her death. But were it even granted that her corpse\nwere lying stiff and cold at the bottom of the Danube, or swept away\nby the current to the ocean, still Bertalda had had some share in her\ndeath; and it was unfitting for her to step into the place of the poor\ninjured wife. The fisherman, however, had felt a strong regard also for\nthe knight: this and the entreaties of his daughter, who had become much\nmore gentle and respectful, as well as her tears for Undine, all exerted\ntheir influence, and he must at last have been forced to give up his\nopposition, for he remained at the castle without objection, and a\nmessenger was sent off express to Father Heilmann, who in former and\nhappier days had united Undine and Huldbrand, requesting him to come and\nperform the ceremony at the knight\u2019s second marriage.\n\nHardly had the holy man read through the letter from the lord of\nRingstetten, ere he set out upon the journey and made much greater\ndispatch on his way to the castle than the messenger from it had made in\nreaching him. Whenever his breath failed him in his rapid progress, or\nhis old limbs ached with fatigue, he would say to himself:\n\n\u201cPerhaps I shall be able to prevent a sin; then sink not, withered body,\nbefore I arrive at the end of my journey!\u201d And with renewed vigour he\npressed forward, hurrying on without rest or repose, until, late one\nevening, he entered the shady court-yard of the castle of Ringstetten.\n\nThe betrothed were sitting side by side under the trees, and the aged\nfisherman in a thoughtful mood sat near them. The moment they saw Father\nHeilmann, they rose with a spring of joy, and pressed round him with\neager welcome. But he, in a few words, asked the bridegroom to return\nwith him into the castle; and when Huldbrand stood mute with surprise,\nand delayed complying with his earnest request, the pious preacher said\nto him--\n\n\u201cI do not know why I should want to speak to you in private; what I have\nto say as much concerns Bertalda and the fisherman as yourself; and what\nwe must at some time hear, it is best to hear as soon as possible. Are\nyou, then, so very certain, Knight Huldbrand, that your first wife is\nactually dead? I can hardly think it. I will say nothing, indeed, of the\nmysterious state in which she may be now existing; I know nothing of\nit with certainty. But that she was a most devoted and faithful wife is\nbeyond all dispute. And for fourteen nights past, she has appeared to me\nin a dream, standing at my bedside wringing her tender hands in anguish,\nand sighing out, \u2018Ah, prevent him, dear father! I am still living! Ah,\nsave his life! Ah, save his soul!\u2019\n\n\u201cI did not understand what this vision of the night could mean, then\ncame your messenger; and I have now hastened hither, not to unite, but,\nas I hope, to separate what ought not to be joined together. Leave her,\nHuldbrand! leave him, Bertalda! He still belongs to another; and do you\nnot see on his pale cheek his grief for his lost wife? That is not the\nlook of a bridegroom; and the spirit says to me, that \u2018if you do not\nleave him you will never be happy!\u2019\u201d\n\nThe three felt in their inmost hearts that Father Heilmann spoke the\ntruth; but they would not believe it. Even the old fisherman was so\ninfatuated, that he thought it could not be otherwise than as they\nhad latterly settled amongst themselves. They all, therefore, with a\ndetermined and gloomy eagerness, struggled against the representations\nand warnings of the priest, until, shaking his head and oppressed with\nsorrow, he finally quitted the castle, not choosing to accept their\noffered shelter even for a single night, or indeed so much as to taste a\nmorsel of the refreshment they brought him. Huldbrand persuaded himself,\nhowever, that the priest was a mere visionary; and sent at daybreak to a\nmonk of the nearest monastery, who, without scruple, promised to perform\nthe ceremony in a few days.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER 9\n\n\n\nIt was between night and dawn of day that Huldbrand was lying on his\ncouch, half waking and half sleeping. Whenever he attempted to compose\nhimself to sleep, a terror came upon him and scared him, as if his\nslumbers were haunted with spectres. But he made an effort to rouse\nhimself fully. He felt fanned as by the wings of a swan, and lulled as\nby the murmuring of waters, till in sweet confusion of the senses he\nsank back into his state of half-consciousness.\n\nAt last, however, he must have fallen perfectly asleep; for he seemed to\nbe lifted up by wings of the swans, and to be wafted far away over land\nand sea, while their music swelled on his ear most sweetly. \u201cThe music\nof the swan! the song of the swan!\u201d he could not but repeat to himself\nevery moment; \u201cis it not a sure foreboding of death?\u201d Probably, however,\nit had yet another meaning. All at once he seemed to be hovering over\nthe Mediterranean Sea. A swan sang melodiously in his ear, that this\nwas the Mediterranean Sea. And while he was looking down upon the waves,\nthey became transparent as crystal, so that he could see through them to\nthe very bottom.\n\nAt this a thrill of delight shot through him, for he could see Undine\nwhere she was sitting beneath the clear crystal dome. It is true she was\nweeping very bitterly, and looked much sadder than in those happy days\nwhen they lived together at the castle of Ringstetten, both on their\narrival and afterward, just before they set out upon their fatal passage\ndown the Danube. The knight could not help thinking upon all this\nwith deep emotion, but it did not appear that Undine was aware of his\npresence.\n\nKuhleborn had meanwhile approached her, and was about to reprove her for\nweeping, when she drew herself up, and looked upon him with an air so\nmajestic and commanding, that he almost shrank back.\n\n\u201cAlthough I now dwell here beneath the waters,\u201d said she, \u201cyet I have\nbrought my soul with me. And therefore I may weep, little as you can\nknow what such tears are. They are blessed, as everything is blessed to\none gifted with a true soul.\u201d\n\nHe shook his head incredulously; and after some thought, replied, \u201cAnd\nyet, niece, you are subject to our laws, as a being of the same nature\nwith ourselves; and should HE prove unfaithful to you and marry again,\nyou are obliged to take away his life.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe remains a widower to this very hour,\u201d replied Undine, \u201cand I am\nstill dear to his sorrowful heart.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is, however, betrothed,\u201d said Kuhleborn, with a laugh of scorn;\n\u201cand let only a few days wear away, and then comes the priest with his\nnuptial blessing; and then you must go up to the death of the husband\nwith two wives.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have not the power,\u201d returned Undine, with a smile. \u201cI have sealed up\nthe fountain securely against myself and all of my race.\u201d\n\n\u201cStill, should he leave his castle,\u201d said Kuhleborn, \u201cor should he once\nallow the fountain to be uncovered, what then? for he thinks little\nenough of these things.\u201d\n\n\u201cFor that very reason,\u201d said Undine, still smiling amid her tears,\n\u201cfor that very reason he is at this moment hovering in spirit over the\nMediterranean Sea, and dreaming of the warning which our discourse gives\nhim. I thoughtfully planned all this.\u201d\n\nThat instant, Kuhleborn, inflamed with rage, looked up at the knight,\nwrathfully threatened him, stamped on the ground, and then shot like an\narrow beneath the waves. He seemed to swell in his fury to the size of\na whale. Again the swans began to sing, to wave their wings and fly; the\nknight seemed to soar away over mountains and streams, and at last to\nalight at Castle Ringstetten, and to awake on his couch.\n\nUpon his couch he actually did awake; and his attendant entering at the\nsame moment, informed him that Father Heilmann was still lingering in\nthe neighbourhood; that he had the evening before met with him in the\nforest, where he was sheltering himself under a hut, which he had formed\nby interweaving the branches of trees, and covering them with moss and\nfine brushwood; and that to the question \u201cWhat he was doing there, since\nhe would not give the marriage blessing?\u201d his answer was--\n\n\u201cThere are many other blessings than those given at marriages; and\nthough I did not come to officiate at the wedding, I may still officiate\nat a very different solemnity. All things have their seasons; we must\nbe ready for them all. Besides, marrying and mourning are by no means so\nvery unlike; as every one not wilfully blinded must know full well.\u201d\n\nThe knight made many bewildered reflections on these words and on his\ndream. But it is very difficult to give up a thing which we have\nonce looked upon as certain; so all continued as had been arranged\npreviously.\n\nShould I relate to you how passed the marriage-feast at Castle\nRingstetten, it would be as if you saw a heap of bright and pleasant\nthings, but all overspread with a black mourning crape, through whose\ndarkening veil their brilliancy would appear but a mockery of the\nnothingness of all earthly joys.\n\nIt was not that any spectral delusion disturbed the scene of festivity;\nfor the castle, as we well know, had been secured against the mischief\nof water-spirits. But the knight, the fisherman, and all the guests were\nunable to banish the feeling that the chief personage of the feast was\nstill wanting, and that this chief personage could be no other than the\ngentle and beloved Undine.\n\nWhenever a door was heard to open, all eyes were involuntarily turned in\nthat direction; and if it was nothing but the steward with new dishes,\nor the cupbearer with a supply of wine of higher flavour than the last,\nthey again looked down in sadness and disappointment, while the flashes\nof wit and merriment which had been passing at times from one to\nanother, were extinguished by tears of mournful remembrance.\n\nThe bride was the least thoughtful of the company, and therefore the\nmost happy; but even to her it sometimes seemed strange that she\nshould be sitting at the head of the table, wearing a green wreath and\ngold-embroidered robe, while Undine was lying a corpse, stiff and cold,\nat the bottom of the Danube, or carried out by the current into the\nocean. For ever since her father had suggested something of this\nsort, his words were continually sounding in her ear; and this day, in\nparticular, they would neither fade from her memory, nor yield to other\nthoughts.\n\nEvening had scarcely arrived, when the company returned to their homes;\nnot dismissed by the impatience of the bridegroom, as wedding parties\nare sometimes broken up, but constrained solely by heavy sadness and\nforebodings of evil. Bertalda retired with her maidens, and the knight\nwith his attendants, to undress, but there was no gay laughing company\nof bridesmaids and bridesmen at this mournful festival.\n\nBertalda wished to awaken more cheerful thoughts; she ordered her\nmaidens to spread before her a brilliant set of jewels, a present from\nHuldbrand, together with rich apparel and veils, that she might select\nfrom among them the brightest and most beautiful for her dress in the\nmorning. The attendants rejoiced at this opportunity of pouring forth\ngood wishes and promises of happiness to their young mistress, and\nfailed not to extol the beauty of the bride with the most glowing\neloquence. This went on for a long time, until Bertalda at last, looking\nin a mirror, said with a sigh--\n\n\u201cAh, but do you not see plainly how freckled I am growing? Look here on\nthe side of my neck.\u201d\n\nThey looked at the place, and found the freckles, indeed, as their fair\nmistress had said; but they called them mere beauty spots, the faintest\ntouches of the sun, such as would only heighten the whiteness of her\ndelicate complexion. Bertalda shook her head, and still viewed them as a\nblemish. \u201cAnd I could remove them,\u201d she said at last, sighing. \u201cBut\nthe castle fountain is covered, from which I formerly used to have that\nprecious water, so purifying to the skin. Oh, had I this evening only a\nsingle flask of it!\u201d\n\n\u201cIs that all?\u201d cried an alert waiting-maid, laughing as she glided out\nof the apartment.\n\n\u201cShe will not be so foolish,\u201d said Bertalda, well-pleased and surprised,\n\u201cas to cause the stone cover of the fountain to be taken off this very\nevening?\u201d That instant they heard the tread of men passing along the\ncourt-yard, and could see from the window where the officious maiden was\nleading them directly up to the fountain, and that they carried levers\nand other instruments on their shoulders.\n\n\u201cIt is certainly my will,\u201d said Bertalda with a smile, \u201cif it does not\ntake them too long.\u201d And pleased with the thought, that a word from her\nwas now sufficient to accomplish what had formerly been refused with\na painful reproof, she looked down upon their operations in the bright\nmoonlit castle-court.\n\nThe men raised the enormous stone with an effort; some one of the number\nindeed would occasionally sigh, when he recollected they were destroying\nthe work of their former beloved mistress. Their labour, however, was\nmuch lighter than they had expected. It seemed as if some power from\nwithin the fountain itself aided them in raising the stone.\n\n\u201cIt appears,\u201d said the workmen to one another in astonishment, \u201cas if\nthe confined water had become a springing fountain.\u201d And the stone rose\nmore and more, and, almost without the assistance of the work-people,\nrolled slowly down upon the pavement with a hollow sound. But an\nappearance from the opening of the fountain filled them with awe, as it\nrose like a white column of water; at first they imagined it really to\nbe a fountain, until they perceived the rising form to be a pale female,\nveiled in white. She wept bitterly, raised her hands above her head,\nwringing them sadly as with slow and solemn step she moved toward the\ncastle. The servants shrank back, and fled from the spring, while the\nbride, pale and motionless with horror, stood with her maidens at the\nwindow. When the figure had now come close beneath their room, it looked\nup to them sobbing, and Bertalda thought she recognized through the\nveil the pale features of Undine. But the mourning form passed on,\nsad, reluctant, and lingering, as if going to the place of execution.\nBertalda screamed to her maids to call the knight; not one of them dared\nto stir from her place; and even the bride herself became again mute, as\nif trembling at the sound of her own voice.\n\nWhile they continued standing at the window, motionless as statues,\nthe mysterious wanderer had entered the castle, ascended the well-known\nstairs, and traversed the well-known halls in silent tears. Alas, how\ndifferent had she once passed through these rooms!\n\nThe knight had in the meantime dismissed his attendants. Half-undressed\nand in deep dejection, he was standing before a large mirror, a wax\ntaper burned dimly beside him. At this moment some one tapped at his\ndoor very, very softly. Undine had formerly tapped in this way, when she\nwas playing some of her endearing wiles.\n\n\u201cIt is all an illusion!\u201d said he to himself. \u201cI must to my nuptial bed.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou must indeed, but to a cold one!\u201d he heard a voice, choked with\nsobs, repeat from without; and then he saw in the mirror, that the door\nof his room was slowly, slowly opened, and the white figure entered, and\ngently closed it behind her.\n\n\u201cThey have opened the spring,\u201d said she in a low tone; \u201cand now I am\nhere, and you must die.\u201d\n\nHe felt, in his failing breath, that this must indeed be; but covering\nhis eyes with his hands, he cried: \u201cDo not in my death-hour, do not make\nme mad with terror. If that veil conceals hideous features, do not lift\nit! Take my life, but let me not see you.\u201d\n\n\u201cAlas!\u201d replied the pale figure, \u201cwill you not then look upon me once\nmore? I am as fair now as when you wooed me on the island!\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, if it indeed were so,\u201d sighed Huldbrand, \u201cand that I might die by a\nkiss from you!\u201d\n\n\u201cMost willingly, my own love,\u201d said she. She threw back her veil;\nheavenly fair shone forth her pure countenance. Trembling with love and\nthe awe of approaching death, the knight leant towards her. She kissed\nhim with a holy kiss; but she relaxed not her hold, pressing him more\nclosely in her arms, and weeping as if she would weep away her soul.\nTears rushed into the knight\u2019s eyes, while a thrill both of bliss and\nagony shot through his heart, until he at last expired, sinking softly\nback from her fair arms upon the pillow of his couch a corpse.\n\n\u201cI have wept him to death!\u201d said she to some domestics, who met her\nin the ante-chamber; and passing through the terrified group, she went\nslowly out, and disappeared in the fountain.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER 10\n\n\n\nFather Heilmann had returned to the castle as soon as the death of the\nlord of Ringstetten was made known in the neighbourhood; and he arrived\nat the very hour when the monk who had married the unfortunate couple\nwas hurrying from the door, overcome with dismay and horror.\n\nWhen Father Heilmann was informed of this, he replied, \u201cIt is all well;\nand now come the duties of my office, in which I have no need of an\nassistant.\u201d\n\nHe then began to console the bride, now a widow though with little\nbenefit to her worldly and thoughtless spirit.\n\nThe old fisherman, on the other hand, though severely afflicted, was\nfar more resigned to the fate of his son-in-law and daughter; and while\nBertalda could not refrain from accusing Undine as a murderess and\nsorceress, the old man calmly said, \u201cAfter all, it could not happen\notherwise. I see nothing in it but the judgment of God; and no one\u2019s\nheart was more pierced by the death of Huldbrand than she who was\nobliged to work it, the poor forsaken Undine!\u201d\n\nHe then assisted in arranging the funeral solemnities as suited the\nrank of the deceased. The knight was to be interred in the village\nchurch-yard, in whose consecrated ground were the graves of his\nancestors; a place which they, as well as himself, had endowed with rich\nprivileges and gifts. His shield and helmet lay upon his coffin, ready\nto be lowered with it into the grave, for Lord Huldbrand of Ringstetten\nhad died the last of his race. The mourners began their sorrowful march,\nchanting their melancholy songs beneath the calm unclouded heaven;\nFather Heilmann preceded the procession, bearing a high crucifix, while\nthe inconsolable Bertalda followed, supported by her aged father.\n\nThen they suddenly saw in the midst of the mourning females in the\nwidow\u2019s train, a snow-white figure closely veiled, and wringing its\nhands in the wild vehemence of sorrow. Those next to whom it moved,\nseized with a secret dread, started back or on one side; and owing to\ntheir movements, the others, next to whom the white stranger now came,\nwere terrified still more, so as to produce confusion in the funeral\ntrain. Some of the military escort ventured to address the figure, and\nattempt to remove it from the procession, but it seemed to vanish from\nunder their hands, and yet was immediately seen advancing again, with\nslow and solemn step, among the followers of the body. At last, in\nconsequence of the shrinking away of the attendants, it came close\nbehind Bertalda. It now moved so slowly, that the widow was not aware of\nits presence, and it walked meekly and humbly behind her undisturbed.\n\nThis continued until they came to the church-yard, where the procession\nformed a circle round the open grave. Then it was that Bertalda\nperceived her unbidden companion, and, half in anger and half in terror,\nshe commanded her to depart from the knight\u2019s place of final rest. But\nthe veiled female, shaking her head with a gentle denial, raised her\nhands towards Bertalda in lowly supplication, by which she was greatly\nmoved, and could not but remember with tears how Undine had shown such\nsweetness of spirit on the Danube when she held out to her the coral\nnecklace.\n\nFather Heilmann now motioned with his hand, and gave order for all to\nobserve perfect stillness, that they might breathe a prayer of silent\ndevotion over the body, upon which earth had already been thrown.\nBertalda knelt without speaking; and all knelt, even the grave-diggers,\nwho had now finished their work. But when they arose, the white stranger\nhad disappeared. On the spot where she had knelt, a little spring, of\nsilver brightness, was gushing out from the green turf, and it kept\nswelling and flowing onward with a low murmur, till it almost encircled\nthe mound of the knight\u2019s grave; it then continued its course,\nand emptied itself into a calm lake, which lay by the side of the\nconsecrated ground. Even to this day, the inhabitants of the village\npoint out the spring; and hold fast the belief that it is the poor\ndeserted Undine, who in this manner still fondly encircles her beloved\nin her arms.","title":"Undine","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":33157}