<SPAN name="chap08"></SPAN>
<h3> CHAPTER VIII. </h3>
<h3> THE DAY AFTER THE WEDDING. </h3>
<p>The fresh light of the morning awoke the young married pair.
Wonderful and horrible dreams had disturbed Huldbrand's rest; he had
been haunted by spectres, who, grinning at him by stealth, had tried
to disguise themselves as beautiful women, and from beautiful women
they all at once assumed the faces of dragons, and when he started
up from these hideous visions, the moonlight shone pale and cold
into the room; terrified he looked at Undine, who still lay in
unaltered beauty and grace. Then he would press a light kiss upon
her rosy lips, and would fall asleep again only to be awakened by
new terrors. After he had reflected on all this, now that he was
fully awake, he reproached himself for any doubt that could have led
him into error with regard to his beautiful wife. He begged her to
forgive him for the injustice he had done her, but she only held out
to him her fair hand, sighed deeply, and remained silent. But a
glance of exquisite fervor beamed from her eyes such as he had never
seen before, carrying with it the full assurance that Undine bore
him no ill-will. He then rose cheerfully and left her, to join his
friends in the common apartment.</p>
<p>He found the three sitting round the hearth, with an air of anxiety
about them, as if they dared not venture to speak aloud. The priest
seemed to be praying in his inmost spirit that all evil might be
averted. When, however, they saw the young husband come forth so
cheerfully the careworn expression of their faces vanished.</p>
<p>The old fisherman even began to jest with the knight, so pleasantly,
that the aged wife smiled good-humoredly as she listened to them.
Undine at length made her appearance. All rose to meet her and all
stood still with surprise, for the young wife seemed so strange to
them and yet the same. The priest was the first to advance toward
her with paternal arms affection beaming in his face, and, as he
raised his hand to bless her, the beautiful woman sank reverently on
her knees before him. With a few humble and gracious words she
begged him to forgive her for any foolish things she might have said
the evening before, and entreated him in an agitated tone to pray
for the welfare of her soul. She then rose, kissed her foster-parents,
and thanking them for all the goodness they had shown her,
she exclaimed: "Oh! I now feel in my innermost heart, how much, how
infinitely much, you have done for me, dear, kind people!" She could
not at first desist from her caresses, but scarcely had she
perceived that the old woman was busy in preparing breakfast, than
she went to the hearth, cooked and arranged the meal, and would not
suffer the good old mother to take the least trouble.</p>
<p>She continued thus throughout the whole day, quiet, kind, and
attentive—at once a little matron and a tender, bashful girl. The
three who had known her longest expected every moment to see some
whimsical vagary of her capricious spirit burst forth. But they
waited in vain for it. Undine remained as mild and gentle as an
angel. The holy father could not take his eyes from her, and he said
repeatedly to the bridegroom: "The goodness of heaven, sir, has
intrusted a treasure to you yesterday through me, unworthy as I am;
cherish it as you ought, and it will promote your temporal and
eternal welfare."</p>
<p>Toward evening Undine was hanging on the knight's arm with humble
tenderness, and drew him gently out of the door, where the declining
sun was shining pleasantly on the fresh grass, and upon the tall,
slender stems of the trees. The eyes of the young wife were moist,
as with the dew of sadness and love, and a tender and fearful secret
seemed hovering on her lips, which, however, was only disclosed by
scarcely audible sighs. She led her husband onward and onward in
silence; when he spoke, she only answered him with looks, in which,
it is true, there lay no direct reply to his inquiries, but whole
heaven of love and timid devotion. Thus they reached the edge of the
swollen forest stream, and the knight was astonished to see it
rippling along in gentle waves, without a trace of its former
wildness and swell. "By the morning it will be quite dry," said the
beautiful wife, in a regretful tone, "and you can then travel away
wherever you will, without anything to hinder you."</p>
<p>"Not without you, my little Undine," replied the knight, laughing:
"remember, even if I wished to desert you, the church, and the
spiritual powers, and the emperor, and the empire would interpose
and bring the fugitive back again."</p>
<p>"All depends upon you, all depends upon you," whispered his wife,
half-weeping and half-smiling. "I think, however, nevertheless, that
you will keep me with you: I love you so heartily. Now carry me
across to that little island that lies before us. The matter shall
be decided there. I could easily indeed glide through the rippling
waves, but it is so restful in your arms, and if you were to cast me
off, I shall have sweetly rested in them once more for the last
time." Huldbrand, full as he was of strange fear and emotion, knew
not what to reply. He took her in his arms and carried her across,
remembering now for the first time that this was the same little
island from which he had borne her back to the old fisherman on that
first night. On the further side he put her down on the soft grass,
and was on the point of placing himself lovingly near his beautiful
burden, when she said: "No, there opposite to me! I will read my
sentence in your eyes, before your lips speak; now, listen
attentively to what I will relate to you." And she began:—</p>
<p>"You must know, my loved one, that there are beings in the elements
which almost appear like mortals, and which rarely allow themselves
to become visible to your race. Wonderful salamanders glitter and
sport in the flames; lean and malicious gnomes dwell deep within the
earth; spirits, belonging to the air, wander through the forests,
and a vast family of water-spirits live in the lakes, and streams,
and brooks. In resounding domes of crystal, through which the sky
looks in with its sun and stars, these latter spirits find their
beautiful abode; lofty trees of coral with blue and crimson fruits
gleam in their gardens; they wander over the pure sand of the sea,
and among lovely variegated shells, and amid all exquisite treasures
of the old world, which the present is no longer worthy to enjoy;
all these the floods have covered with their secret veils of silver,
and the noble monuments sparkle below, stately and solemn, and
bedewed by the loving waters which allure from them many a beautiful
moss-flower and entwining cluster of sea-grass. Those, however, who
dwell there are very fair and lovely to behold, and for the most
part are more beautiful than human beings. Many a fisherman has been
so fortunate as to surprise some tender mermaid as she rose above
the waters and sang. He would tell afar of her beauty, and such
wonderful beings have been given the name of Undines. You, however,
are now actually beholding an Undine."</p>
<p>The knight tried to persuade himself that his beautiful wife was
under the spell of one of her strange humors, and that she was
taking pleasure in teasing him with one of her extravagant
inventions. But repeatedly as he said this to himself, he could not
believe it for a moment; a strange shudder passed through him;
unable to utter a word, he stared at the beautiful narrator with an
immovable gaze. Undine shook her head sorrowfully, drew a deep sigh,
and then proceeded as follows:—</p>
<p>"Our condition would be far superior to that of other human
beings—for human beings we call ourselves, being similar to them in form
and culture—but there is one evil peculiar to us. We and our like
in the other elements, vanish into dust and pass away, body and
spirit, so that not a vestige of us remains behind; and when you
mortals hereafter awake to a purer life, we remain with the sand and
the sparks and the wind and the waves. Hence we have also no souls;
the element moves us, and is often obedient to us while we live,
though it scatters us to dust when we die; and we are merry, without
having aught to grieve us—merry as the nightingales and the little
gold-fishes and other pretty children of nature. But all things
aspire to be higher than they are. Thus, my father, who is a
powerful water-prince in the Mediterranean Sea, desired that his
only daughter should become possessed of a soul, even though she
must then endure many of the sufferings of those thus endowed. Such
as we are, however, can only obtain a soul by the closest union of
affection with one of your human race. I am now possessed of a soul,
and my soul thanks you, my inexpressibly beloved one, and it will
ever thank you, if you do not make my whole life miserable. For what
is to become of me, if you avoid and reject me? Still, I would not
retain you by deceit. And if you mean to reject me, do so now, and
return alone to the shore. I will dive into this brook, which is my
uncle; and here in the forest, far removed from other friends, he
passes his strange and solitary life. He is, however, powerful, and
is esteemed and beloved by many great streams; and as he brought me
hither to the fisherman, a light-hearted, laughing child, he will
take me back again to my parents, a loving, suffering, and
soul-endowed woman."</p>
<p>She was about to say still more, but Huldbrand embraced her with the
most heartfelt emotion and love, and bore her back again to the
shore. It was not till he reached it, that he swore amid tears and
kisses, never to forsake his sweet wife, calling himself more happy
than the Greek Pygmalion, whose beautiful statue received life from
Venus and became his loved one. In endearing confidence, Undine
walked back to the cottage, leaning on his arm; feeling now for the
first time, with all her heart, how little she ought to regret the
forsaken crystal palaces of her mysterious father.</p>
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