Undine
Page 13
CHAPTER XIII.
HOW THEY LIVED AT CASTLE RINGSTETTEN.
The writer of this story, both because it moves his own heart, andbecause he wishes it to move that of others, begs you, dear reader,to pardon him, if he now briefly passes over a considerable space oftime, only cursorily mentioning the events that marked it. He knowswell that he might portray skilfully, step by step, how Huldbrand'sheart began to turn from Undine to Bertalda; how Bertalda more andmore responded with ardent affection to the young knight, and howthey both looked upon the poor wife as a mysterious being rather tobe feared than pitied; how Undine wept, and how her tears stung theknight's heart with remorse without awakening his former love, sothat though he at times was kind and endearing to her, a coldshudder would soon draw him from her, and he would turn to hisfellow-mortal, Bertalda. All this the writer knows might be fullydetailed, and perhaps ought to have been so; but such a task wouldhave been too painful, for similar things have been known to him bysad experience, and he shrinks from their shadow even inremembrance. You know probably a like feeling, dear reader, for suchis the lot of mortal man. Happy are you if you have received ratherthan inflicted the pain, for in such things it is more blessed toreceive than to give. If it be so, such recollections will onlybring a feeling of sorrow to your mind, and perhaps a tear willtrickle down your cheek over the faded flowers that once caused yousuch delight. But let that be enough. We will not pierce our heartswith a thousand separate things, but only briefly state, as I havejust said, how matters were.
Poor Undine was very sad, and the other two were not to be calledhappy. Bertalda especially thought that she could trace the effectof jealousy on the part of the injured wife whenever her wishes werein any way thwarted by her. She had therefore habituated herself toan imperious demeanor, to which Undine yielded in sorrowfulsubmission, and the now blinded Huldbrand usually encouraged thisarrogant behavior in the strongest manner. But the circumstance thatmost of all disturbed the inmates of the castle, was a variety ofwonderful apparitions which met Huldbrand and Bertalda in thevaulted galleries of the castle, and which had never been heard ofbefore as haunting the locality. The tall white man, in whomHuldbrand recognized only too plainly Uncle Kuhleborn, and Bertaldathe spectral master of the fountain, often passed before them with athreatening aspect, and especially before Bertalda; so much so, thatshe had already several times been made ill with terror, and hadfrequently thought of quitting the castle. But still she stayedthere, partly because Huldbrand was so dear to her, and she reliedon her innocence, no words of love having ever passed between them,and partly also because she knew not whither to direct her steps.The old fisherman, on receiving the message from the lord ofRingstetten that Bertalda was his guest, had written a few lines inan almost illegible hand, but as good as his advanced age and longdis-would admit of.
"I have now become," he wrote, "a poor old widower, for my dear andfaithful wife is dead. However lonely I now sit in my cottage,Bertalda is better with you than with me. Only let her do nothing toharm my beloved Undine! She will have my curse if it be so." Thelast words of this letter, Bertalda flung to the winds, but shecarefully retained the part respecting her absence from herfather--just as we are all wont to do in similar circumstances.
One day, when Huldbrand had just ridden out, Undine summonedtogether the domestics of the family, and ordered them to bring alarge stone, and carefully to cover with it the magnificent fountainwhich stood in the middle of the castle-yard. The servants objectedthat it would oblige them to bring water from the valley below.Undine smiled sadly. "I am sorry, my people," she replied, "toincrease your work. I would rather myself fetch up the pitchers, butthis fountain must be closed. Believe me that it cannot beotherwise, and that it is only by so doing that we can avoid agreater evil."
The whole household were glad to be able to please their gentlemistress; they made no further inquiry, but seized the enormousstone. They were just raising it in their hands, and were alreadypoising it over the fountain, when Bertalda came running up, andcalled out to them to stop, as it was from this fountain that thewater was brought which was so good for her complexion, and shewould never consent to its being closed. Undine, however, althoughgentle as usual, was more than usually firm. She told Bertalda thatit was her due, as mistress of the house, to arrange her householdas she thought best, and that, in this, she was accountable to noone but her lord and husband. "See, oh, pray see," exclaimedBertalda, in an angry, yet uneasy tone, "how the poor beautifulwater is curling and writhing at being shut out from the brightsunshine and from the cheerful sight of the human face, for whosemirror it was created!"
The water in the fountain was indeed wonderfully agitated andhissing; it seemed as if something within were struggling to freeitself, but Undine only the more earnestly urged the fulfilment ofher orders. The earnestness was scarcely needed. The servants of thecastle were as happy in obeying their gentle mistress as in opposingBertalda's haughty defiance; and in spite of all the rude scoldingand threatening of the latter the stone was soon firmly lying overthe opening of the fountain. Undine leaned thoughtfully over it, andwrote with her beautiful fingers on its surface. She must, however,have had something very sharp and cutting in her hand, for when sheturned away, and the servants drew near to examine the stone, theyperceived various strange characters upon it, which none of them hadseen there before.
Bertalda received the knight, on his return home in the evening,with tears and complaints of Undine's conduct. He cast a seriouslook at his poor wife, and she looked down as if distressed. Yet shesaid with great composure: "My lord and husband does not reproveeven a bondslave without a hearing, how much less then, his weddedwife?"
"Speak," said the knight with a gloomy countenance, "what inducedyou to act so strangely?"
"I should like to tell you when we are quite alone," sighed Undine.
"You can tell me just as well in Bertalda's presence," was therejoinder.
"Yes, if you command me," said Undine; "but command it not. Oh pray,pray command it not!"
She looked so humble, so sweet, and obedient, that the knight'sheart felt a passing gleam from better times. He kindly placed herarm within his own, and led her to his apartment, when she began tospeak as follows:--
"You already know, my beloved lord, something of my evil uncle,Kuhleborn, and you have frequently been displeased at meeting him inthe galleries of this castle. He has several times frightenedBertalda into illness. This is because he is devoid of soul, a mereelemental mirror of the outward world, without the power ofreflecting the world within. He sees, too, sometimes, that you aredissatisfied with me; that I, in my childishness, am weeping atthis, and that Bertalda perhaps is at the very same moment laughing.Hence he imagines various discrepancies in our home life, and inmany ways mixes unbidden with our circle. What is the good ofreproving him? What is the use of sending him angrily away? He doesnot believe a word I say. His poor nature has no idea that the joysand sorrows of love have so sweet a resemblance, and are so closelylinked that no power can separate them. Amid tears a smile shinesforth, and a smile allures tears from their secret chambers."
She looked up at Huldbrand, smiling and weeping; and he againexperienced within his heart all the charm of his old love. She feltthis, and pressing him more tenderly to her, she continued amidtears of joy:--
"As the disturber of our peace was not to be dismissed with words, Ihave been obliged to shut the door upon him. And the only door bywhich he obtains access to us is that fountain. He is cut off by theadjacent valleys from the other water-spirits in the neighborhood,and his kingdom only commences further off on the Danube, into whichsome of his good friends direct their course. For this reason I hadthe stone placed over the opening of the fountain, and I inscribedcharacters upon it which cripple all my uncle's power, so that hecan now neither intrude upon you, nor upon me, nor upon Bertalda.Human beings, it is true, can raise the stone again with ordinaryeffort, in spite of the characters inscribed on it. The inscriptiondoes not hinder them. If yo
u wish, therefore, follow Bertalda'sdesire, but, truly! she knows not what she asks. The rude Kuhlebornhas set his mark especially upon her; and if much came to pass whichhe has predicted to me, and which might, indeed, happen without yourmeaning any evil, ah! dear one, even you would then be exposed todanger!"
Huldbrand felt deeply the generosity of his sweet wife, in hereagerness to shut up her formidable protector, while she had evenbeen chided for it by Bertalda. He pressed her in his arms with theutmost affection, and said with emotion: "The stone shall remain,and all shall remain, now and ever, as you wish to have it, my sweetUndine."
She caressed him with humble delight, as she heard the expressionsof love so long withheld, and then at length she said: "My dearesthusband, you are so gentle and kind to-day, may I venture to ask afavor of you? See now, it is just the same with you as it is withsummer. In the height of its glory, summer puts on the flaming andthundering crown of mighty storms, and assumes the air of a kingover the earth. You, too, sometimes, let your fury rise, and youreyes flash and your voice is angry, and this becomes you well,though I, in my folly, may sometimes weep at it. But never, I prayyou, behave thus toward me on the water, or even when we are nearit. You see, my relatives would then acquire a right over me. Theywould unrelentingly tear me from you in their rage; because theywould imagine that one of their race was injured, and I should becompelled all my life to dwell below in the crystal palaces, andshould never dare to ascend to you again; or they would send me upto you--and that, oh God, would be infinitely worse. No, no, mybeloved husband, do not let it come to that, if your poor Undine isdear to you."
He promised solemnly to do as she desired, and they both returnedfrom the apartment, full of happiness and affection. At that momentBertalda appeared with some workmen, to whom she had already givenorders, and said in a sullen tone, which she had assumed of late: "Isuppose the secret conference is at an end, and now the stone may beremoved. Go out, workmen, and attend to it."
But the knight, angry at her impertinence, desired in short and verydecisive words that the stone should be left: he reproved Bertalda,too, for her violence toward his wife. Whereupon the workmenwithdrew, smiling with secret satisfaction: while Bertalda, palewith rage, hurried away to her room.
The hour for the evening repast arrived, and Bertalda they waited forin vain. They sent after her, but the domestic found her apartmentsempty, and only brought back with him a sealed letter addressed tothe knight. He opened it with alarm, and read: "I feel with shamethat I am only a poor fisher-girl. I will expiate my fault in havingforgotten this for a moment by going to the miserable cottage of myparents. Farewell to you and your beautiful wife."
Undine was heartily distressed. She earnestly entreated Huldbrand tohasten after their friend and bring her back again. Alas! she had noneed to urge him. His affection for Bertalda burst forth again withvehemence. He hurried round the castle, inquiring if any one hadseen which way the fugitive had gone. He could learn nothing of her,and he was already on his horse in the castle-yard, resolved at aventure to take the road by which he had brought Bertalda hither.Just then a page appeared, who assured him that he had met the ladyon the path to the Black Valley. Like an arrow the knight sprangthrough the gateway in the direction indicated, without hearingUndine's voice of agony, as she called to him from the window:--
"To the Black Valley! Oh, not there! Huldbrand, don't go there! or,for heaven's sake, take me with you!" But when she perceived thatall her calling was in vain, she ordered her white palfrey to beimmediately saddled, and rode after the knight, without allowing anyservant to accompany her.