Fairy Tales (Barnes & Noble Classics Series)

by Hans Christian Andersen

  “No, this is really over the top!” said the scholar. “I don’t want to do that, and I won’t do that. It would be deceiving the whole kingdom, as well as the princess. I’ll reveal everything! That I’m the human being and that you are the shadow. You’re only dressed up as a man.”

  “No one will believe that,” said the shadow. “Be sensible, or I’ll call the guard.”

  “I’m going right to the princess,” the scholar said. “But I’m going first,” said the shadow, “and you’ll be arrested.” And so he was because the sentries obeyed the man the princess was going to marry.

  “You’re shaking,” said the princess when the shadow came to her room. “Has something happened? You mustn’t get sick tonight, when we’re having the wedding.”

  “I’ve been through the most terrible experience possible!” said the shadow. “Just think! The poor mind of a shadow can’t bear much! Imagine! My shadow has gone insane. He thinks he’s a human being and that I’m—imagine this—that I’m his shadow!”

  “That’s dreadful!” said the princess. “He’s locked up, right?”

  “Yes, he is. I’m afraid he’ll never recover.”

  “Poor shadow,” said the princess. “He’s very unfortunate. It would truly be a good deed to free him from the little life that he still has, and when I really think it over, I believe it’ll be necessary to dispose of him quietly.”

  “But it’s very hard,” said the shadow, “because he’s been a faithful servant,” and he gave what sounded like a sigh.

  “You have such a noble nature,” said the princess.

  That night the whole town was illuminated, the cannons were fired—boom!—and the soldiers presented arms. It was quite a wedding! The princess and the shadow went out on the balcony to be seen by the people and to receive yet another “hurrah!”

  But the scholar heard nothing of it, for his life had been taken.

  NOTES

  1 Reference to Peter Schlemihls wundersame Geschichte (1814; The Wonderful History of Peter Schlemihl), by Adelbert von Chamisso.

  2 “I really wish you would address me formally!” Here the shadow is asking his former master to use the Danish formal form of address.

  THE LITTLE MERMAID

  WAY OUT AT SEA the water is as blue as the petals on the loveliest corn-flower, and as clear as the purest glass, but it’s very deep, deeper than any anchor rope can reach. Many church steeples would have to be placed end to end to reach from the bottom up to the surface and beyond. Down there the sea people live.

  You mustn’t think that it’s just a bare white sand bottom. No, the most wonderful trees and plants grow there, and they have such supple stems and leaves that they move as if they were alive with the slightest motion of the water. All the big and little fish slip between the branches like the birds do in the air up here. The sea king’s castle is at the very deepest point. The walls are made of coral, and the long sharp windows of the clearest amber, but the roof is made of sea shells that open and close with the water currents. It looks lovely because there are glittering pearls in each shell; just one of them would be a fine ornament for a queen’s crown.

  The sea king had been a widower for many years, but his old mother kept house for him. She was a wise woman, but proud of her nobility, and so she wore twelve oysters on her tail; the other aristocracy could only carry six. Apart from that she deserved a lot of praise, especially since she was so fond of the little sea princesses, her grandchildren. There were six beautiful children, all lovely, but the youngest was the most beautiful. Her skin was as clear and delicate as a rose petal, and her eyes were as blue as the deepest sea, but just like all the others, she had no feet. Her body ended in a fish tail.

  All day long they could play in the castle, in the big hall where living flowers grew out of the walls. Whenever the big amber windows were opened up, the fish swam in, like swallows fly into our windows when we open them, but the fish swam right up to the little princesses and ate from their hands and allowed themselves to be petted.

  Outside the castle was a big garden with fire-red and dark blue trees where the fruit shone like gold, and the flowers like a flaming fire, because the stems and petals were always moving. The ground itself was the finest sand, but blue, like a flame of sulphur, and there was a strange blue cast over everything down there. Rather than being on the bottom of the ocean, you could imagine yourself high up in the air, with sky both above and below you, and if it was very still, you could glimpse the sun for it appeared as a scarlet flower with all light streaming from its center.

  Each of the little princesses had a plot in the garden, where she could dig and plant as she wished. One gave her flower garden the shape of a whale, another thought that hers should resemble a mermaid, but the youngest princess made hers quite round, like the sun, and only had flowers that shone just as red as it did. She was an odd child, quiet and thoughtful, and while her sisters decorated their gardens with all sorts of strange things they had found in sunken ships, she only wanted, except for the red flowers that resembled the sun, a beautiful marble statue of a lovely boy, carved from white, clear stone that had sunk to the sea bottom from a shipwreck. Beside the statue she planted a rose red weeping willow, which grew beautifully and whose branches hung over the statue and down towards the blue sand bottom, where its shadow was violet and moved like the branches. It looked as if the tree and the roots were playing at kissing each other.

  Nothing gave her greater pleasure than hearing about the human world above them. The old grandmother had to tell all she knew about ships and towns, people and animals. She especially thought it was strange and splendid that up on the earth the flowers gave off a fragrance that they didn’t do on the bottom of the ocean; and that the forests were green; and that the fish that one saw among the branches could sing so loudly and delightfully that it was a joy. The grandmother called the little birds fish because otherwise they couldn’t understand her since they had never seen a bird.

  “When you turn fifteen,” grandmother said, “you’ll be allowed to swim up from the ocean, sit in the moonlight on the rocks, and see the big ships sail by, and forests and towns you’ll see, too!” The following year, one of the sisters would turn fifteen, but the others—well, they were all one year younger than the next, so the youngest had five whole years left before she could rise up from the bottom of the sea to see how we have it up here. But each promised to tell the others what she had seen, and what she had found the most beautiful on the first day, for their grandmother hadn’t told them enough—there was so much they wanted to know!

  None of them yearned as much as the youngest, the very one who had the longest time to wait, and who was so quiet and thoughtful. Many a night she stood by the open windows and looked up through the dark blue water, where the fish flapped their fins and tails. She could see the moon and stars, although they shone dimly, but through the water they looked much bigger than to our eyes; and if it seemed like a dark cloud slipped under them, she knew that either a whale was swimming above her, or it was a ship with many people on-board. Little did they know that there was a lovely little mermaid standing below them, reaching her white hands up towards the ship.

  Then the eldest princess turned fifteen and was permitted to go above the surface.

  When she came back, she had hundreds of things to tell, but the most lovely thing, she said, was to lie in the moonlight on a sand bank in the calm sea, and see the big city right by the coast, where lights were twinkling like hundreds of stars; to hear the music, and the noise and commotion of carts and people; to see the many church towers and spires, and hear how the bells rang. Just because she couldn’t get there, she longed the most for all these things.

  Oh, how intently the youngest sister listened to all this, and afterwards, when she stood by the open window in the evenings and looked up through the dark blue water, she thought about the big city with its noise, and then she thought she could hear the church bells ringing all the way down to w
here she was.

  The next year the second sister was allowed to rise to the surface of the water and swim wherever she wanted. She broke the surface just as the sun set, and that was the sight she found the most beautiful. The whole sky had looked like gold, she said, and she couldn’t describe how wonderful the clouds were. They had sailed over her, red and violet, but even more quickly than the clouds, a flock of wild swans had flown like a long white ribbon over the water towards the setting sun, and she swam towards it, but it sank, and the rosy hue faded from the sea and the clouds.

  The following year the third sister ascended. She was the boldest of them all, so she swam up a wide river that ran out to sea. She saw splendid green hills with grapevines; castles and farms peeked out from magnificent forests. She heard how all the birds were singing, and the sun was so warm that she often had to dive under the water to cool her burning face. In a little inlet she met a group of small human children who were quite naked, and they were running and playing in the water. She wanted to play with them, but they ran away frightened, and a little black animal came and barked terribly at her. It was a dog, but since she had never seen a dog before she became frightened and swam out to the open sea, but she never forgot the magnificent forests, the green hills, and the beautiful children who could swim in the water, even though they didn’t have a fish tail.

  The fourth sister was not so bold. She stayed out in the wild sea and explained how that was the most beautiful sight. You could see around for many miles, and the sky above was like a huge glass bell jar. She saw ships, but they were so far away that they looked like seagulls. The amusing dolphins had turned somersaults, and the big whales had sprayed water from their blow holes so that it looked like a hundred fountains all around.

  Then it was the fifth sister’s turn. Her birthday was during the winter, and so she saw what the others had not seen the first time. The sea appeared quite green, and there were big icebergs floating around. Each one looked like a pearl, she said, and they were even bigger than the church steeples that people built. They had the most fantastic shapes and glittered like diamonds. She had sat on one of the biggest ones, and all the sailing ships gave her a wide berth where she sat with the wind blowing her long hair, but later in the evening it became overcast, and there was lightning and thunder while the black sea lifted the icebergs so high up that they shone red in the strong flashes of lightning. All the ships took in sail, and there was fear and dread, but she sat calmly on her floating iceberg and watched the blue bolts of lightning zigzag into the shining sea.

  The first time each of the sisters came up to the surface, she was enthusiastic about all the new and lovely things she saw, but when they now were grown up and could go up there whenever they wanted, they became indifferent to it. They longed for home, and at the end of a month they said that it was, after all, most beautiful down there, and that’s where you felt at home.

  On many evenings the five sisters took each other’s arms and rose up over the water in a row. They had lovely voices, more beautiful than any person, and when a storm was brewing so that they thought ships could be lost, they swam in front of the ships and sang so soulfully about how lovely it was on the floor of the ocean and told the sailors not to be afraid to come down there. Of course, the sailors could not understand their words. They thought it was the storm, and they also did not see the wonders of the sea, because when the ship sank, the people drowned and only came as dead men to the sea king’s castle.

  When the sisters rose up in the evenings, arm in arm, to the surface of the sea, the little sister stood quite alone and looked after them, and she felt that she was going to cry, but mermaids have no tears, and so she suffered even more.

  “Oh, if only I were fifteen!” she said. “I know that I’ll love that world up there and the people who live in it.”

  Finally she turned fifteen.

  “Now we’re getting you off our hands,” said her grandmother, the old widowed queen. “Come and let me dress you up, like your sisters,” and she placed a wreath of white lilies on her head, but every petal of the flower was half a pearl, and the old queen let eight big oysters clamp onto the princess’ tail to indicate her high rank.

  “That really hurts!” said the little mermaid.

  “No pain, no gain,” her grandmother said.

  Oh, how she wanted to throw off all the finery and take off the heavy wreath! The red flowers in her garden suited her much better, but she didn’t dare change anything. “Good bye,” she said, and floated so easily and lightly, like a bubble, up through the water.

  The sun had just gone down as she lifted her head over the sea, but all the clouds were still shining red and gold, and in the middle of the pale pink sky the evening star shone clearly and beautifully. The air was mild and fresh, and the sea was dead calm. There was a large ship with three masts on the sea, but only one sail was up because there wasn’t a breath of wind, and sailors were sitting in the rigging and on the yardarms. There was music and singing, and as the evening grew darker, hundreds of multi-colored lanterns were lit. It looked as if the flags of all nations were waving in the air. The little mermaid swam right up to the cabin porthole, and every time the waves lifted her up, she could see in through the clear panes where she saw many people in evening dress, but the most beautiful was a young prince with big black eyes. He could not have been much over sixteen years old. It was his birthday, and that was the reason for all the festivities. The sailors danced on the deck, and when the young prince appeared, over a hundred rockets were fired into the air and lit up the sky like daylight, so the little mermaid became frightened and dove down into the water. But she soon stuck her head up again, and it seemed as if all the stars in the sky fell down to her. She had never seen such fireworks. Big suns swirled around; magnificent fire-fish were swaying in the blue air; and everything was reflected in the clear, calm sea. It was so light on the ship itself that you could see each little rope, let alone the people. Oh, how gorgeous the little prince was! And he shook hands with people and laughed and smiled, while the music played through the lovely night.

  It grew late, but the little mermaid couldn’t take her eyes from the ship and the wonderful prince. The colorful lanterns were extinguished. There were no more rockets shooting into the air, and the cannons were silent, but deep in the sea there was humming and buzzing. She floated on the water and rocked up and down, so she could look into the cabin, but the ship increased its speed; one sail after another filled; and the waves became bigger. Great clouds gathered, and far away there was lightning. A terrible storm was coming! The sailors pulled in the sails. The big ship rocked ahead at a furious pace on the wild sea; the water rose like big black mountains, wanting to break over the masts, but the ship dove like a swan down between the huge waves and let itself be lifted high up again on the towering waters. The little mermaid thought it was a pleasing ride, but the sailors didn’t think so. The ship creaked and groaned as the thick planks bulged from the strong thrusts as the sea pushed against it. The mast cracked in the middle, as though it were a reed, and the ship listed on its side, while water came rushing into the hold. Now the little mermaid realized that they were in danger. She herself had to watch out for beams and pieces of the ship that were drifting on the water. One moment it was so coal black that she couldn’t see a thing, but in a flash of lightning, it became so clear that she could see all of them on the ship; each was doing the best he could for himself. She was especially looking for the young prince, and as the ship fell apart, she saw him sink down into the deep sea. At first, she was very happy because now he would come down to her, but then she remembered that people could not live in the sea, and the only way he could come to her father’s castle was as a dead man. No, he must not die! So she swam between beams and planks, drifting on the sea, forgetting entirely that they could crush her. She dove deep into the water and rose again high between the waves and came at last to the young prince, who could hardly swim any longer in the surging sea. His
arms and legs were beginning to go limp, the beautiful eyes closed; he would surely have died if the little mermaid had not come. She held his head above the water and let the waves drive them where they would.

  In the morning the storm was over; there was not a sliver to be seen of the ship. The sun rose red and shining from the water, and it was as if the prince’s cheeks took life from it, but his eyes remained closed. The mermaid kissed his lovely high forehead and stroked his wet hair. She thought he looked like the marble statue down in her little garden. She kissed him again, and wished that he would live.

  Then she saw land ahead, high blue mountains with white snow shining on top like a flock of swans. Down by the seashore there were lovely green forests, and in front of the woods was a church or a convent. She wasn’t exactly sure which, but it was a building. There were lemon and orange trees growing there in the garden, and in front of the gate there were tall palm trees. There was a little bay in the sea, where it was completely calm, but very deep, all the way to the rocks, where the fine white sand washed up. She swam there with the handsome prince, laid him on the sand, and made sure that his head was up in the warm sunshine.

  Then the bells rang out from the big white building, and many young girls came through the grounds. The little mermaid swam out behind some high rocks that protruded from the water, covered her hair and breast with sea foam so no one could see her little face, and watched to see who would come and find the poor prince.

  It wasn’t long before a young girl came. She seemed quite frightened, but only for a moment. Then she hurried to bring other people, and the mermaid saw that the prince was alive, and that he smiled at all those around him, but he didn’t smile at her. Of course he didn’t know that she had saved him. She felt very sad, and when he was carried into the big building, she dove sorrowfully down into the water and found her way home to her father’s castle.