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Far out in the ocean, where the water is as blue as the
prettiest cornflower, and as clear as crystal, it is very, very
deep; so deep, indeed, that no cable could fathom it: many church
steeples, piled one upon another, would not reach from the ground
beneath to the surface of the water above. There dwell the Sea King
and his subjects. We must not imagine that there is nothing at the
bottom of the sea but bare yellow sand. No, indeed; the most
singular flowers and plants grow there; the leaves and stems of
which are so pliant, that the slightest agitation of the water
causes them to stir as if they had life. Fishes, both large and
small, glide between the branches, as birds fly among the trees here
upon land. In the deepest spot of all, stands the castle of the Sea
King. Its walls are built of coral, and the long, gothic windows are
of the clearest amber. The roof is formed of shells, that open and
close as the water flows over them. Their appearance is very
beautiful, for in each lies a glittering pearl, which would be fit
for the diadem of a queen.
The Sea King had been a widower for many years, and his aged mother
kept house for him. She was a very wise woman, and exceedingly proud
of her high birth; on that account she wore twelve oysters on her
tail; while others, also of high rank, were only allowed to wear
six. She was, however, deserving of very great praise, especially
for her care of the little sea-princesses, her grand-daughters. They
were six beautiful children; but the youngest was the prettiest of
them all; her skin was as clear and delicate as a rose-leaf, and her
eyes as blue as the deepest sea; but, like all the others, she had
no feet, and her body ended in a fish's tail. All day long they
played in the great halls of the castle, or among the living flowers
that grew out of the walls. The large amber windows were open, and
the fish swam in, just as the swallows fly into our houses when we
open the windows, excepting that the fishes swam up to the
princesses, ate out of their hands, and allowed themselves to be
stroked. Outside the castle there was a beautiful garden, in which
grew bright red and dark blue flowers, and blossoms like flames of
fire; the fruit glittered like gold, and the leaves and stems waved
to and fro continually. The earth itself was the finest sand, but
blue as the flame of burning sulphur. Over everything lay a peculiar
blue radiance, as if it were surrounded by the air from above,
through which the blue sky shone, instead of the dark depths of the
sea. In calm weather the sun could be seen, looking like a purple
flower, with the light streaming from the calyx. Each of the young
princesses had a little plot of ground in the garden, where she
might dig and plant as she pleased. One arranged her flower-bed into
the form of a whale; another thought it better to make hers like the
figure of a little mermaid; but that of the youngest was round like
the sun, and contained flowers as red as his rays at sunset. She was
a strange child, quiet and thoughtful; and while her sisters would
be delighted with the wonderful things which they obtained from the
wrecks of vessels, she cared for nothing but her pretty red flowers,
like the sun, excepting a beautiful marble statue. It was the
representation of a handsome boy, carved out of pure white stone,
which had fallen to the bottom of the sea from a wreck. She planted
by the statue a rose-colored weeping willow. It grew splendidly, and
very soon hung its fresh branches over the statue, almost down to
the blue sands. The shadow had a violet tint, and waved to and fro
like the branches; it seemed as if the crown of the tree and the
root were at play, and trying to kiss each other. Nothing gave her
so much pleasure as to hear about the world above the sea. She made
her old grandmother tell her all she knew of the ships and of the
towns, the people and the animals. To her it seemed most wonderful
and beautiful to hear that the flowers of the land should have
fragrance, and not those below the sea; that the trees of the forest
should be green; and that the fishes among the trees could sing so
sweetly, that it was quite a pleasure to hear them. Her grandmother
called the little birds fishes, or she would not have understood
her; for she had never seen birds.
"When you have reached your fifteenth year," said the grand-mother,
"you will have permission to rise up out of the sea, to sit on the
rocks in the moonlight, while the great ships are sailing by; and
then you will see both forests and towns."
In the following year, one of the sisters would be fifteen: but as
each was a year younger than the other, the youngest would have to
wait five years before her turn came to rise up from the bottom of
the ocean, and see the earth as we do. However, each promised to
tell the others what she saw on her first visit, and what she
thought the most beautiful; for their grandmother could not tell
them enough; there were so many things on which they wanted
information. None of them longed so much for her turn to come as the
youngest, she who had the longest time to wait, and who was so quiet
and thoughtful. Many nights she stood by the open window, looking up
through the dark blue water, and watching the fish as they splashed
about with their fins and tails. She could see the moon and stars
shining faintly; but through the water they looked larger than they
do to our eyes. When something like a black cloud passed between her
and them, she knew that it was either a whale swimming over her
head, or a ship full of human beings, who never imagined that a
pretty little mermaid was standing beneath them, holding out her
white hands towards the keel of their ship.
As soon as the eldest was fifteen, she was allowed to rise to the
surface of the ocean. When she came back, she had hundreds of things
to talk about; but the most beautiful, she said, was to lie in the
moonlight, on a sandbank, in the quiet sea, near the coast, and to
gaze on a large town nearby, where the lights were twinkling like
hundreds of stars; to listen to the sounds of the music, the noise
of carriages, and the voices of human beings, and then to hear the
merry bells peal out from the church steeples; and because she could
not go near to all those wonderful things, she longed for them more
than ever. Oh, did not the youngest sister listen eagerly to all
these descriptions? and afterwards, when she stood at the open
window looking up through the dark blue water, she thought of the
great city, with all its bustle and noise, and even fancied she
could hear the sound of the church bells, down in the depths of the
sea.
In another year the second sister received permission to rise to the
surface of the water, and to swim about where she pleased. She rose
just as the sun was setting, and this, she said, was the most
beautiful sight of all. The whole sky looked like gold, while violet
and rose-colored clouds, which she could not describe, floated over
her; and, still more rapidly than the clouds, flew a large flock of
wild swans towards the setting sun, looking like a long white veil
across the sea. She also swam towards the sun; but it sunk into the
waves, and the rosy tints faded from the clouds and from the sea.
The third sister's turn followed; she was the boldest of them all,
and she swam up a broad river that emptied itself into the sea. On
the banks she saw green hills covered with beautiful vines; palaces
and castles peeped out from amid the proud trees of the forest; she
heard the birds singing, and the rays of the sun were so powerful
that she was obliged often to dive down under the water to cool her
burning face. In a narrow creek she found a whole troop of little
human children, quite naked, and sporting about in the water; she
wanted to play with them, but they fled in a great fright; and then
a little black animal came to the water; it was a dog, but she did
not know that, for she had never before seen one. This animal barked
at her so terribly that she became frightened, and rushed back to
the open sea. But she said she should never forget the beautiful
forest, the green hills, and the pretty little children who could
swim in the water, although they had not fish's tails.
The fourth sister was more timid; she remained in the midst of the
sea, but she said it was quite as beautiful there as nearer the
land. She could see for so many miles around her, and the sky above
looked like a bell of glass. She had seen the ships, but at such a
great distance that they looked like sea-gulls. The dolphins sported
in the waves, and the great whales spouted water from their nostrils
till it seemed as if a hundred fountains were playing in every
direction.
The fifth sister's birthday occurred in the winter; so when her turn
came, she saw what the others had not seen the first time they went
up. The sea looked quite green, and large icebergs were floating
about, each like a pearl, she said, but larger and loftier than the
churches built by men. They were of the most singular shapes, and
glittered like diamonds. She had seated herself upon one of the
largest, and let the wind play with her long hair, and she remarked
that all the ships sailed by rapidly, and steered as far away as
they could from the iceberg, as if they were afraid of it. Towards
evening, as the sun went down, dark clouds covered the sky, the
thunder rolled and the lightning flashed, and the red light glowed
on the icebergs as they rocked and tossed on the heaving sea. On all
the ships the sails were reefed with fear and trembling, while she
sat calmly on the floating iceberg, watching the blue lightning, as
it darted its forked flashes into the sea.
When first the sisters had permission to rise to the surface, they
were each delighted with the new and beautiful sights they saw; but
now, as grown-up girls, they could go when they pleased, and they
had become indifferent about it. They wished themselves back again
in the water, and after a month had passed they said it was much
more beautiful down below, and pleasanter to be at home. Yet often,
in the evening hours, the five sisters would twine their arms round
each other, and rise to the surface, in a row. They had more
beautiful voices than any human being could have; and before the
approach of a storm, and when they expected a ship would be lost,
they swam before the vessel, and sang sweetly of the delights to be
found in the depths of the sea, and begging the sailors not to fear
if they sank to the bottom. But the sailors could not understand the
song, they took it for the howling of the storm. And these things
were never to be beautiful for them; for if the ship sank, the men
were drowned, and their dead bodies alone reached the palace of the
Sea King.
The Little Mermaid Fairy Tale
A Fairy Story
by
Hans Christian Andersen |
