Ганс Христиан Андерсен
H. C. Andersen best fairy tales / Лучшие сказки Г.Х. Андерсена. Уровень 1

© Матвеев С.А., адаптация текста, комментарии и словарь

© ООО «Издательство, АСТ», 2021

The Ugly Duckling

It was so beautiful in the country. It was the summer time. The wheat fields were golden, the oats were green, and the hay stood in great stacks in the green meadows. All around the meadows and cornfields grew thick woods, and in the midst of the forest was a deep lake. It was very beautiful, it was delightful in the country.

In a sunny spot stood a pleasant old farmhouse. From the walls down to the water’s edge grew great burdocks. In this snug retreat sat a duck upon her nest. She was watching her young brood. But she felt no pleasure. She was tired and bored. She seldom had visitors. The other ducks liked much better to swim about in the canals than to sit under the burdock leaves to have a gossip with her.

At length[1], one shell cracked, and soon another, and from each came a duckling that lifted its head and cried “Peep, peep.”

“Quack, quack!” said the mother; and then they all tried to say it, too. They looked all about them[2] on every side at the tall green leaves. Their mother allowed them to look about as much as they liked, because green is good for the eyes.

“What a great world it is!” said the ducklings, when they found how much more room they had than when they were in the eggshell.

“Is this all the world?” said the mother. “No. Wait till you see the garden. It stretches down to the pastor’s field, though I never went there. Are you all here?” she continued. “No, not all; the largest egg still lies there, I see. I wonder how long. I’m really tired of it!”

And she sat down again.

“Well, and how are you today?” quacked an old duck who came to pay her a visit[3].

“Look, there’s one egg more. The shell is hard and does not break,” said the mother, who sat still upon her nest. “But just look at the others. What a pretty family! Are they not the prettiest little ducklings in the world? They are the image of their father! But he never comes to see me”.

“Let me see the egg that does not break,” said the old duck. “I think it’s a Guinea fowl’s egg[4]. The same thing happened to me once, and it gave me a lot of trouble. They are afraid of the water. I quacked and clucked, but all in vain[5]. Let me take a look at it. Yes, I am right; it’s a Guinea fowl, believe me. Take my advice and leave it where it is. Come to the water and teach the other children to swim.”

“I think I will sit a little while longer,” said the mother. “A day or two more won’t matter.”

“Very well,” said the old duck. She rose and went away.

At last the great egg broke, and the latest bird cried “Peep, peep,” when he crept forth from the shell. How big and ugly he was! The mother duck stared at him and did not know what to think.

“Really,” she said, “this is an enormous duckling, and it is not at all like the others. Is he really a Guinea fowl? Well, we shall see when we get to the water. He must go into the water. If he won’t, I’ll push him”.

On the next day the weather was delightful. The sun shone brightly on the green burdock leaves. The mother duck took her whole family down to the water and jumped in with a splash. “Quack, quack!” cried she, and one after another the little ducklings jumped in. The water closed over their heads, but they came up again in an instant and swam quite prettily. Their legs were paddling under them easily. The ugly gray duckling was also in the water, he was swimming with them.

“Oh,” said the mother, “that is not a Guinea fowl. See how well he uses his legs! How erect he holds himself! He is my own child, and he is not so very ugly after all, if you look at him properly. Quack, quack! Come with me now. I will take you into grand society and introduce you to the farmyard. But you must keep close to me[6]. Someone may tread upon you. Furthermore, beware of the cat!”

When they reached the farmyard, they heard a riot. Two families were fighting for an eel’s head. But, after all, the cat carried it away.

“See, children, that is the life,” said the mother duck. He was whetting her beak, she wanted the eel’s head, too. “Come, now, use your legs, and let me see how well you can behave. You must bow your heads prettily to that old duck yonder. She is the highest duck here and has Spanish blood. Do you see she has a red rag on her leg? It is something very grand and a great honor for a duck. It shows that every one is anxious not to lose her. Both man and beast can notice her. Come, now. A well-bred duckling spreads his feet wide apart, just like his father and mother. Now bend your necks and say ‘Quack!’”

The ducklings did it, but the other ducks stared, and said, “Look, here comes another brood! No room for them! And what a queer-looking bird one of them is; we don’t want him here!

And then one flew out and bit the poor duckling in the neck.

“Leave him alone,” said the mother; “he is not doing any harm”.

“Yes, but he is so big and ugly,” said the spiteful duck, “and therefore we must beat him. It will do him good.”

“The others are very pretty children,” said the old duck with the rag on her leg, “all but that one. Transform him; he is really ill-favored.”

“That is impossible, your grace,” replied the mother. “He is not pretty, but he has a very good heart. Moreover, he swims as well as the others or even better. I think he will grow up pretty, and perhaps be smaller. He was too long in the egg, and therefore his figure is not properly formed”.

Then she stroked his neck and smoothed the feathers and said:

“It is a drake, and drake may be not very beautiful. I think he will grow up strong and smart”.

“The other ducklings are graceful enough,” said the old duck. “Now make yourself at home[7], and if you find an eel’s head you can bring it to me”.

And so they made themselves comfortable. But everybody began to bite and push and beat the poor duckling who crept out of his shell last of all and looked so ugly. Not only the ducks but all the poultry.

“He is too big,” they all said; and the turkey cock, who had spurs and fancied himself really an emperor. The turkey cock puffed himself out like a vessel in full sail and flew at the duckling. He became quite red in the head with passion. At first, the poor little duckling did not know where to go, and was quite miserable. He was very ugly and the whole farmyard laughed at him.

So it went on from day to day; it got worse and worse. Everybody was driving the poor duckling away; even his brothers and sisters were unkind to him. They were saying:

“Ah, you ugly duckling! When will the cat eat you?”

And his mother was asking all the time: “Why were you born? What for?”

The ducks pecked him, the chickens beat him, and the girl who fed the poultry pushed him with her feet. So at last he ran away. He frightened the little birds in the hedge as he flew over the palings.

“They are afraid because I am so ugly,” he said.

So he ran farther, until he came out on a large moor. Wild ducks inhabited it. Here he remained the whole night. He was feeling very sorrowful.

In the morning, when the wild ducks rose in the air, they stared at their new comrade.

“What sort of a duck are you?” they all said and came round him.

He bowed to them politely, but he did not reply to their question.

“You are exceedingly ugly,” said the wild ducks; “but that will not matter if you do not want to marry one of our family.”

The poor duckling had no thoughts of marriage. All he wanted was permission to lie among the rushes and drink some of the water on the moor.

He was on the moor for two days, there came two wild geese, or rather goslings.

“Listen, friend,” said one of them to the duckling; “you are so ugly that we like you very well. Will you go with us and become a real bird? Not far from here is another moor, in which there are some wild geese. All of them are unmarried. It is a chance for you to get a wife”.

“Bang, bang”, sounded in the air, and the two wild geese fell dead among the rushes. The water was tinged with blood.

“Bang, bang”, echoed far and wide in the distance, and whole flocks of wild geese rose up from the rushes.

The sound continued from every direction. The sportsmen surrounded the moor. Some were even seated on branches of trees. They were overlooking the rushes. The blue smoke from the guns rose like clouds over the dark trees. As it floated away across the water, a number of sporting dogs bounded in among the rushes. These rushes bent beneath them wherever they went. How they terrified the poor duckling! He turned away his head to hide it under his wing, and at the same moment a large, terrible dog passed quite near him. His jaws were open, his tongue hung from his mouth, and his eyes glared fearfully. He thrust his nose close to the duckling, he was showing his sharp teeth, and then “splash, splash,” he went into the water. The dog didn’t touch him.

“Oh,” sighed the duckling, “happily I am so ugly; even a dog does not bite me”.

And so he lay quite still, while the shot rattled through the rushes. Gun after gun was fired over him. It was late in the day before all became quiet. But even then the poor duckling did not dare to move. He waited quietly for several hours and then he looked carefully around him. He saw, nobody. Then he hastened away from the moor as fast as he could. He ran over field and meadow till a storm arose.

Towards evening he reached a poor little cottage. It was ready to fall, and stood because it could not decide on which side to fall first. The storm continued so violent that the duckling could go no farther. He sat down by the cottage, and then he noticed that the door was not closed. There was, therefore, a narrow opening near the bottom. It was large enough for him. He slipped through very quietly, and got a shelter for the night.

Here, in this cottage, lived a woman, a cat, and a hen. The cat, whom his mistress called “My little son,” was a great favorite. He could raise his back, and purr, and could even throw out sparks from his fur. The hen had very short legs, so she was called “Chickie Short-legs.” She laid good eggs, and her mistress loved her very much.

In the morning they discovered the strange visitor. The cat began to purr and the hen began to cluck.

“What is that noise about?” said the old woman. She was looking around the room, but her sight was not very good. Therefore when she saw the duckling she thought it was a fat duck.

“Oh, what a surprise!” she exclaimed. “I hope it is not a drake, for then I shall have some ducks’ eggs. I must wait and see”.

So she allowed the duckling to remain for three weeks. But there were no eggs.

The cat was the master of the house, and the hen was the mistress. They always said, “We and the world”. They believed themselves to be half the world, and the better half, too. The duckling had a different opinion on the subject, but the hen did not to listen to such doubts.

“Can you lay eggs?” the hen asked.

“No”.

“Then cease talking!”

“Can you raise your back, or purr, or throw out sparks?” asked the cat.

“No”.

“Then you have no right to express an opinion when sensible people are speaking”.

So the duckling sat in a corner. He was very sad.

When the sunshine and the fresh air came into the room through the open door, he wanted to swim and spoke of it.

“What an absurd idea!” said the hen. “You have nothing else to do; therefore you have foolish ideas. Purr or lay eggs – and they will pass away”.

“But it is so delightful to swim,” said the duckling, “and so refreshing to feel the water when you dive down to the bottom”.

“Delightful, indeed! It is a queer sort of pleasure,” said the hen. “You must be crazy! Ask the cat – he is the cleverest animal. Ask him how he likes to swim, or to dive under the water. Of course, I will not speak of my own opinion. Ask our mistress, the old woman; there is no one in the world more clever than she is. Do you think she likes to swim and feel the water over her head?”

“I see you don’t understand me”, said the duckling.

“We don’t understand you? Who can understand you, I wonder? Do you consider yourself more clever than the cat or the old woman? I will say nothing of myself. Don’t imagine such nonsense, child. Thank your good fortune that we receive you here so well. Are you not in a warm room and in society from which you may learn something? But you are a chatterer, and your company is not very agreeable. Believe me, I speak only for your good. I may tell you unpleasant truths. But that is a proof of my friendship. I advise you, therefore, to lay eggs and learn to purr as quickly as possible”.

“I believe I must go out into the world again”, said the duckling.

“Yes, do”, said the hen.

So the duckling left the cottage and soon found water on which he could swim and dive. But all other animals avoided him because of his ugly appearance.

Autumn came, and the leaves in the forest turned to orange and gold. Then, as winter approached, the they fell and the wind whirled them into the cold air. The clouds, heavy with hail and snowflakes, hung low in the sky. The raven stood among the reeds and cried, “Croak, croak”. All this was very sad for the poor little duckling.

One evening, just as the sun was setting amid radiant clouds, there came a large flock of beautiful birds out of the bushes. The duckling did not see them before. They were swans; and they curved their graceful necks. Their soft plumage shone with dazzling whiteness.

They uttered a strange cry as they spread their glorious wings and flew away from those cold regions to warmer countries across the sea. They mounted higher and higher in the air.

The ugly little duckling had a strange sensation as he watched them. He whirled himself in the water like a wheel, stretched out his neck towards them, and uttered a cry. His cry was so strange that it frightened even himself. He could not forget those beautiful, happy birds! And when at last they were out of his sight, he dived under the water and rose again with excitement. He did not know the names of these birds, but he liked them.

He was not envious of these beautiful creatures; it never occurred to him to wish. Poor ugly creature! He just wanted to live with the ducks peacefully. That was all that he wanted.

The winter grew colder and colder; he swam about on the water. But every night the space on which he swam became smaller and smaller. At length it froze so hard that the ice in the water crackled as he moved. The duckling became exhausted at last and lay still and helpless.

Early in the morning, a peasant who was passing by, saw him. He broke the ice in pieces with his wooden shoe and carried the duckling home to his wife. The warmth revived the poor little creature. But when the children wanted to play with him, the duckling was afraid of them. So he started up in terror, fluttered into the milk pan, and splashed the milk about the room.

Then the woman clapped her hands, which frightened him still more. He flew first into the butter cask, then into the meal tub and out again. The woman screamed and struck at him with the tongs; the children laughed and screamed and tried to catch him. But he escaped luckily.

The door was open; the poor duckling slipped out among the bushes and lay down exhausted in the snow.

It is very sad to relate all the misery and privations which the poor little duckling endured during the hard winter. But when it passed he found himself[8] one morning in a moor, amongst the rushes. He felt the warm sun and heard the lark. It was a beautiful spring.

Then the young bird felt that his wings were strong. He flapped them against his sides and rose high into the air. They bore him onwards, and finally he found himself in a large garden. The apple trees were in full blossom, and the fragrant elders bent their long green branches down to the stream. Everything looked beautiful in the freshness of early spring. From a thicket came three beautiful white swans. They were rustling their feathers and swimming lightly over the water. The duckling saw these lovely birds and felt more unhappy than ever.

“I will fly to these royal birds,” he exclaimed, “and they will kill me because. I am very ugly, and I must not approach them. But it does not matter. Let them kill me. It’s better. The ducks peck me, the hens beat me, the maiden who feeds the poultry pushes me. If they don’t kill me, I’ll starve with hunger in the winter”.

Then he flew to the water and swam towards the beautiful swans. When they saw the stranger they rushed to meet him.

“Kill me,” said the poor bird and he bent his head down to the surface of the water and awaited death.

But what did he see in the clear stream below? His own image-no longer a dark-gray bird, ugly and disagreeable, but a graceful and beautiful swan!

He was born in a duck’s nest in a farmyard but he came from a swan’s egg! He now felt glad. He suffered sorrow and trouble, and it enabled him to enjoy all the pleasure and happiness around him. The great swans swam round the newcomer and stroked his neck with their beaks.

Into the garden presently came some little children and threw bread and cake into the water.

“See,” cried the youngest, “there is a new one;” and the rest were delighted, and ran to their father and mother. They were dancing and clapping their hands and shouting joyously,

“There is another swan here; a new one!”

Then they threw more bread and cake into the water and said,

“The new swan is the most beautiful of all, he is so young and pretty!”

And the old swans bowed their heads before him.

Then he felt quite ashamed and hid his head under his wing. He did not know what to do, he was so happy! But he was not at all proud. They persecuted and despised him for his ugliness, and now the said he was the most beautiful of all the birds! Even the elder tree bent down its boughs into the water before him, and the sun shone warm and bright.

Then he rustled his feathers, curved his slender neck, and cried joyfully, from the depths of his heart,

“I never dreamed of such happiness while I was the despised ugly duckling!”

The Emperor’s New Clothes

Many years ago there lived an Emperor who was so monstrous fond of fine new clothes that he spent all his money on it. He wanted to be really smart. He didn’t care about his army, he didn’t didn’t care about his people. He only wanted to show his new clothes. He had a coat for every hour in the day. As people say about a king, that “he’s holding a council”, so in this country they always said, “The Emperor is in his dressing room”.

In the great city where he lived, life was very pleasant. Lots of strangers came there every day; and one day there arrived two swindlers. They said that they were weavers, and said they knew how to make the loveliest dress in the world. Not only were the colours and patterns extraordinarily pretty, but the clothes had this marvellous property: they were invisible to anyone who could not work well or was intolerably stupid.

“Very excellent clothes those must be,” thought the Emperor; “if I put them on, I’ll be able to tell which are the men in my realm who aren’t fit for the posts they hold. I’ll be able to tell clever people from stupid ones[9]. I must have these clothes!”

He gave the two swindlers a large sum in advance, and they began their work. They set up two looms and pretended to be working. But they hadn’t a vestige of anything on the looms. In hot haste they demanded the finest of silk and the best of gold, which they stuffed into their own pockets. And they worked at the bare looms till any hour of the night.

“I want to know how they are working,” thought the Emperor. But to tell the truth he was afraid. Anyone who was stupid or unsuited to his post couldn’t see the dress. Of course, he was sure that he needn’t be afraid for himself. but he decided to send someone else first. Everybody in the whole city knew what a marvellous power was in the dress. So everybody was agog to see how incompetent and how stupid his neighbour was.

“I’ll send my good old minister to the weavers,” thought the Emperor; “he can quite well see everything. He’s an intelligent man, and suited for his post”.

So the old minister went into the hall where the two swindlers were sitting working at the bare loom.

“My God!” thought the old minister. He was staring with all his eyes; “I can’t see anything”; but he didn’t say so.

Both the swindlers begged him to step nearer, and asked if here were not a pretty pattern and beautiful colours. They pointed to the bare looms, and the poor old minister was staring at it, but he couldn’t see anything, because there was nothing.

“Oh God!” thought he; “can I be stupid? I never thought so, and nobody must know it. Can I be unfit for my office? No, no! I won’t say anybody about my defeat”.

“Well, have you nothing to say about it?” said the one who was weaving.

“Oh, it’s charming! Most delightful!” said the old minister. He was looking through his spectacles. “The pattern! The colour! Yes, indeed, I must tell the Emperor I am infinitely pleased with it”.

“We are glad indeed to hear it,” said both the weavers, and proceeded to describe the colours and the uncommon pattern. The old minister listened carefully so as to be able to repeat it when he went back to the Emperor. So he did. The swindlers now demanded more money and more silk and gold for the weaving. They pocketed it all. And, as before, they were weaving at the bare loom.

Very soon, the Emperor sent another honest official over to see the progress. Will the clothes be ready soon? The official was just like the minister. He looked and looked, but there was nothing there but the empty loom. He saw nothing.

“Well, isn’t that fine?” said both the swindlers. They were exhibiting and explaining the lovely patterns that weren’t there at all.

“Stupid, I am not,” thought the man; “it must be my nice post that I’m not fit for? That is a good joke! But I mustn’t tell people anything”.

So he praised the dress which he couldn’t see, and assured the swindlers of his pleasure in the pretty colours and the exquisite pattern.

“Yes, it is positively sweet,” he told the Emperor. Everybody in the city was talking of the splendid dress.

At last the Emperor decided to see it, while it was still on the loom, with many people-among them the two worthy officials. He went over to the two clever swindlers, who were now weaving hard; only without a vestige of a thread.

“Now, is not that magnificent?” said both the worthy officials “Will Your Majesty deign to note the beauty of the pattern and the colours”; and they pointed to the bare loom. They thought all the rest could certainly see the dress.

“What’s the meaning of this?” thought the Emperor. “I can’t see anything! This is terrible! Am I stupid? Am I not fit to be Emperor? That is the most frightful thing”.

“Oh, it’s very pretty, it has my all-highest approval!” said the Emperor. He was nodding complacently and gazing on the empty loom. Of course, he wouldn’t say he could see nothing. The whole of the suite he had with him looked and looked, but saw nothing. However, they said, too: “Oh, it’s very pretty!” And they advised him to put on this splendid new dress on the occasion of a great procession. The procession will take place shortly.

“Magnificent! Exquisite! Excellent!” went from mouth to mouth. The whole company was in the highest state of gratification. The Emperor gave each of the swindlers a knight’s cross and the title of “Gentleman in Weaving”.

The whole night the swindlers sat up, and lit sixteen candles. People could see they were working hard to finish the Emperor’s new clothes. They clipped with scissors in the air, they sewed with a needle without thread-and finally they said: “Look now! The clothes are finished!”

The Emperor with the noblest of his personal attendants came thither himself. Each of the swindlers raised an arm in the air as if holding something up, and said:

“See, here are the hose, this is the coat, this is the mantle, and so on. It is as light as a spider’s web. But that is, of course, the beauty of it”.

“Yes”, said all the attendants. But they couldn’t see anything, for there was absolutely nothing in the room.

“Will Your Imperial Majesty graciously take off your clothes?” said the swindlers. “We can then put the new ones upon you here, before the large mirror”.

The Emperor took off all his clothes, and the swindlers behaved as if they were handing him each piece of the new suit. They put their hands about his waist and pretended to tie some thing securely. The Emperor turned and twisted himself in front of the glass.

“Heaven! How well it fits? How beautifully it sets,” said everyone. “The pattern! The colours! It is indeed a noble costume!”

“They are waiting, outside, with the canopy, Your Majesty,” said the chief master of the ceremonies[10].

“Very well, I am ready,” said the Emperor; “doesn’t it set well?”

Once more he turned about in front of the glass.

“Yes, of course, Your Majesty,” said everybody reverently.

So the Emperor walked in the procession under the beautiful canopy, and everybody in the streets and at the windows said:

“Lord! How splendid the Emperor’s new clothes are. What a lovely coat! How beautiful!”

Nobody wanted to be stupid or incompetent. None of the Emperor’s costumes had such a success.

“But he is naked!” suddenly said a little child.

“Really. Listen to the innocent child”, said its father.

And one whispered to the other the child’s words:

“That little boy says that the Emperor is naked!”

“The Emperor is naked!” the whole crowd was shouting at last; and the Emperor’s shuddered. It seemed to him they were right.

“But all the same,” he thought to himself, “I must go through with the procession”.

So he held himself more proudly than before. And the procession went on.

The Princess On The Pea

Once upon a time there was a Prince, and he wanted to marry a Princess; but she must be a real Princess. So he traveled all the world over to find one, but everywhere there was some obstacle. There were Princesses enough, but he was not quite certain whether they were real proper princesses. There was always something not perfectly correct. So he came back home and was very sad. He wanted to find a real princess.

One evening there was a terrible storm. It lightened and thundered and the rain poured down. It was quite fearful. There came a knock at the town gate and the old King went off to open it.

It was a gracious Princess. She was standing outside. But what a figure she was with the rain and bad weather! The water ran all down her hair and her clothes and in at the toes of her shoes and out at the heels. She said she was a real Princess.

“Ah, we’ll check it”, thought the old Queen to herself.

But she didn’t say anything. She went into the bedroom, took all the clothes off the bed and laid one dried pea on the bottom of the bed. Then she took twenty mattresses and laid them on top of the pea, and then twenty eiderdowns on top of the mattresses. There the Princess was sleeping that night.

In the morning they ask her how she was sleeping.

“Oh, dreadfully badly,” said the Princess; “I hardly closed my eyes the whole night! There was something terrible in my bed! There was something hard I lay on. It’s quite dreadful”.

Then everybody could see that this was a real Princess. She felt the pea through the twenty mattresses and the twenty eiderdowns. Nobody could have such a tender skin but a real Princess.

So the Prince married her. Now he knew that he had a real Princess.

They put the pea in the treasure chamber, where everyone can see it nowadays.

The Little Mermaid

Far out in the sea the water is as blue as the petals of the cornflowers, and as clear as the clearest glass. But it is very deep, deeper than any anchor-cable can reach. Down there live the sea people.

Now you must not think that there is only a white sandy bottom there. No, no: there the most extraordinary trees and plants grow, which have stems and leaves. They stir at the slightest movement of the water. All the fish, big and little, flit among the branches, like the birds in the air up here.

In the deepest place of all lies the sea king’s palace. The walls are of coral, and the tall windows are of the clearest amber. But the roof is of mussel-shells. They open and shut themselves as the water moves. It all looks beautiful, for in every shell lie shining pearls. A single one of these pearls can be the principal ornament in a Queen’s crown.

The sea King is a widower for many years. His old mother kept house for him. She was a clever woman, and proud of her rank. She was fond of the little sea Princesses, her grandchildren. There were six of them, beautiful children, but the youngest was the prettiest of them all. Her skin was as bright and pure as a rose-leaf, her eyes were as blue as the deepest lake. But like all the rest, she had no feet-her body ended in a fish’s tail.

All the day they were playing in the palace in the great halls. The big windows of amber stood open, and the fishes swam in through them.

Outside the palace there was a large garden with fiery red and dark blue trees, whose fruit shone like gold, and their flowers were like a flaming fire. They were always moving their stems and leaves.

The ground was of the finest sand, but blue like the flame of sulphur. Down there lay a wonderful blue sheen. In a calm you could see the sun: it looked like a purple flower.

Each of the young Princesses had her little plot in the garden, where she could dig and plant as she liked. Some Princesses made their flower-bed in the shape of a whale, other preferred the shape of a little mermaid, but the youngest made hers quite round, like the sun. She only had flowers that shone red. She was an odd child, quiet and thoughtful. Whereas her other sisters were decking out their gardens with the quaintest things, that they took from sunken ships, she only had red flowers that were like the sun and a pretty statue of marble. It was of a handsome boy, which came down to the sea bottom from a wreck.

Beside the statue she planted a rose-red weeping willow[11], which grew splendidly and hung its fresh branches over it, right down to the blue sand bottom.

She liked to dream about the world of men up above. The old grandmother told her all she knew about ships and horses and men and animals. It seemed to her particularly delightful that up there on earth the flowers smelt sweet (which they did not at the sea bottom). She was surprised that the woods were green and the fish which one saw among the branches could sing loud and prettily. It was a joy to hear them. It was the little birds that the grandmother called fish. The little mermaid never saw a bird.

“When you’re fifteen years old,” said the grandmother, “I’ll allow you to come up out of the sea and sit on the rocks in the moonlight. You’ll see big ships and forests and houses”.

The eldest sister promised the next one to tell her everything about the outer world. Of course, for their grandmother didn’t tell them enough. There were very many things the mermaids wanted to know about.

The youngest mermaid was quiet and thoughtful. Many nights she stood at the open window and gazed up through the dark blue waters where the fish were waving their fins and tails. She could see the moon and the stars. Of course they were very pale, but they looked much larger than they do to our eyes.

If a black passed along beneath them, she knew that it was either a whale, or even a ship with a number of people in it. Certainly they never thought that beneath them there was a lovely little mermaid.

And now the eldest Princess was fifteen years old and could rise up above the surface of the sea.

When she came back she had a hundred things to tell. The most beautiful thing, she said, was to lie on a sandbank in the moonlight in the calm sea, and to see the big town where the lights twinkled like hundreds of stars, and to hear the sound of music and the noise of carts and people, and see all the church towers and hear the bells.

The youngest sister listened and dreamed! And when, in the evening, she stood at the open window and gazed up through the dark blue water, she thought about the big town and all the noise.

The year after, the second sister rose up through the water and swam where she liked. She saw how the sun was going down, and the sight of that was the most beautiful of all. The whole heaven, she said, looked like gold, and the clouds sailed past above her.

Next year the third sister went up. She was the boldest of them all. She swam up a broad river that ran into the sea. She saw beautiful green hills, with rows of vines upon them. Palaces and mansions peeped out from the woods. She heard the songs of the birds, and the sun shone very brightly.

In a little inlet she saw a crowd of young human children. They were naked, and ran about and splashed in the water. She wanted to play with them, but they ran away in a fright. Then came a little black creature (it was a dog) and it barked at her so dreadfully that she was terrified and swam away. She could not forget the splendid woods and the green hills and the pretty children who swam in the water, though they had no fish-tails.

The fourth sister stayed out in the lonely sea, and told them that that was the most beautiful of all. You could see many miles all round, and the sky was like a great bell of glass. She saw the merry dolphins and the big whales. It looked like hundreds of fountains all around her.

Now came the turn of the fifth sister. Her birthday was in winter. The sea was green, and round about there floated large icebergs. Every iceberg was like a pearl, she said, and yet they were bigger than the church towers that men built. They were like diamonds. She was sitting on one of the largest, and all the ships made a wide circle in fear. In the evening the sky was covered with clouds, it lightened and thundered.

Many times the five sisters linked arms together and rose in a row above the water. They had lovely voices, more beautiful than any human being’s. When a storm was coming on, they were swimming before the ships and singing beautifully. But the people could not understand their words; they thought it was the storm. And the people did not see any beautiful things either. When the ship sank they were drowned, and only dead corpses reached the sea King’s palace.

When the sisters rose up through the sea, arm in arm, their little sister stayed quite alone.

“Oh! When I am fifteen,” she said, “I shall become really fond of that world up there and of the people who have their homes there!”

At last she was fifteen years old.

“There now!” said the grandmother, the old widow Queen. “Come here, and let me dress you”.

She put a wreath of white lilies on her hair, only every petal in the flower was a half-pearl. And eight large oysters held tight the Princess’s tail, to indicate her high rank.

“But it hurts so,” said the little mermaid.

“Yes, you must suffer a little for smartness’ sake[12],” said the old lady.

Oh dear! The little mermaid wanted to shake off all this finery and put away the heavy wreath. But she dare not change it.

“Good-bye”, she said, and rose as a bubble, up through the water.

She lifted her head above the sea, but all the clouds were still glowing like gold and roses. In the midst of the pale red heaven the evening star shone clear and beautiful. The air was soft and cool, and the sea calm. There lay a great ship with three masts. Only a single sail was set. On the rigging and on the yard[13], sailors were sitting. She heard music and songs.

The little mermaid swam straight up to the cabin window. She saw through the windows many gaily dressed people. The handsomest of them all was the young Prince with the big black eyes. He was certainly not much over sixteen, and this was his birthday. The sailors danced on the deck, and when the young Prince came out there, more than a hundred rockets shot up into the sky. The little mermaid was frightened and dived down beneath the water. But soon she put up her head again.

Great suns whizzed round, splendid fire-fish darted into the blue heaven. On the ship itself there was so much light that you could see every rope. Oh! How handsome the young Prince was! He shook hands with the crew and smiled and laughed.

It was already late, but the little mermaid could not take her eyes off the ship and the beautiful Prince. No more rockets flew up into the sky, but deep down in the sea there was a murmur and a rumbling.

Meanwhile she sat on the water and swung up and down, so that she could see into the cabin. The waves rose higher, there was lightning. Oh, there will be a terrible storm. The ship dived down like a swan between the tall billows, and rose again over the waters. To the little mermaid it seemed just a pleasant jaunt, but not so to the sailors. The ship creaked and cracked, the stout planks bent. The mast snapped in the midst, and the water rushed into the ship’s hull. Now the little mermaid saw they were in peril. The broken pieces of the ship were driven about in the sea. At one instant it was so dark that she could see nothing. When it lightened, it was so bright that she could see everyone on board. Everyone was leaping off.

She saw the young Prince, he was sinking down into the deep. For a moment she was full of joy that now he was coming down to her; but then she remembered that men could not live in the water. He will never come alive to her father’s palace. No, he must not die! So she swam to the young Prince. His arms and legs were beginning to tire, his beautiful eyes were closing. The little mermaid came to him. She held his head above the water.

At dawn the tempest was over. The Prince’s eyes were closed. The mermaid kissed his fair high forehead and stroked back his wet hair. He resembled the marble statue in her little garden. She kissed him again.

And now she saw in front of her the dry land. Lemon and apple trees grew in the garden, and before the gate were tall palms. At this spot the sea made a little bay; it was calm. Hither she swam with the fair Prince and laid him on the sand.

The bells rang out from the great white building, and a number of young maidens came out through the gardens. The little mermaid swam away, behind some high boulders. Suddenly young girl came that way, and was quite terrified, but only for a moment. Then she fetched more people, and the Prince revived. But he, of course, did not know that she rescued him. She felt very sad and dived sorrowfully down into the water. She swam home to her father’s palace.

The sisters were asking her about the outer world, but she did not tell them anything about it.

Every evening and morning she went up to that place. She saw how the fruits in the garden grew ripe and were picked. She saw how the snow melted on the high mountains. But she never saw the Prince. So she always turned homeward sadder than before.

At home, she was sitting in her little garden and looking at the fair marble statue which was like the Prince. At last she told one of her sisters. One of her sister’s friend knew who the Prince was. She knew where he came from and where his kingdom lay.

“Come, little sister,” said the other Princesses, and they rose in a long line out of the sea in front of the spot where they knew the Prince’s palace was.

It was a palace of pale yellow shining stone, with great marble steps. Stately gilded domes rose above the roof, and between the pillars stood statues of marble. Through the clear glass of the tall windows you could see into the noble halls. In the middle of the largest hall a great fountain.

Now the little mermaid knew where the Prince lived. She swam close to the land. She even went right up the narrow canal beneath the balcony of marble. Here she was sitting and gazing at the young Prince.

Many times she saw him in his splendid boat, where the flags waved. She thought of how close his head lay on her bosom, and how lovingly she kissed him then. He knew nothing about it, and could not dream about her.

She became fonder and fonder of human people. Their world, she thought, was far larger than hers. They could fly over the sea in ships, climb the mountains; and the lands they owned stretched over forests and fields. She wanted to know a lot, but her sisters could not answer all her questions. So she asked the old grandmother: she knew well the upper world, as she called the countries above the sea.

“If the human people aren’t drowned,” the little mermaid inquired, “do they for ever? Don’t they die as we do down here in the sea?”

“Yes,” said the old lady, “they die, too, and besides, their lifetime is shorter than ours. We can live for three hundred years, but then we only turn to foam on the water. We have no immortal souls, we never live again. Humans, on the other hand, have a soul that lives always. It rises up through the clear air, up to all the shining stars; just as we rise out of the sea. And then they live in the heavenly world “.

“Why did we have no immortal souls?” said the little mermaid, very sadly. “I can give all my hundreds of years for only one human day. I want to live in the heavenly world.”

“Don’t think about that,” said the old lady, “we are much happier and better!”

“So when I die and float like foam on the sea, I won’t get an everlasting soul?”

“No,” said the old lady, “only if a human being loves you, then his soul will flow over into your body. He will give you a soul. But that can never happen. Your beautiful fish’s tail, which is very beautiful here, people treat like a horrid one. Up there people must have two clumsy props which they call legs”.

The little mermaid sighed and looked sadly at her fish’s tail.

“Let’s be cheerful,” said the old lady. “We’ll jump and dance about for the three hundred years. After that we can sleep in peace”.

But the little mermaid began to think again about the world above her. She could not forget the handsome Prince. So she left her father’s palace, and sat sadly in her little garden. There she heard nice music. Sure, the Prince is sailing up there, she thought. I love him more than father or mother. I will risk everything to win him and an immortal soul. So I will go to the old Sea Witch. She can advise me and help me.

So the little mermaid went off out of her garden, towards the maelstrom behind which the witch lived. No flowers grew there, and no sea grass: only the gray sandy bottom round the maelstrom, where the water whirled round like a millwheel. Behind it lay the Witch’s house, in the middle of a hideous wood. All the trees and bushes of it were polypi, half animal and half plant, which looked like hundred-headed snakes. All their branches were long slimy arms with fingers like pliant worms. The little mermaid was in terrible fear as she stopped outside the wood. Her heart beat with terror, and she almost turned back. Then she thought of the Prince and of the human soul, and she took courage. She joined her two hands together on her breast, and darted along through the water.

Now she came to a great slimy clearing in the wood, where large fat water-snakes wallowed. In the centre of the clearing was a house built of the white bones of men. There the Sea Witch sat.

“I know well enough what you want,” said the Sea Witch, “and it’s a silly thing. But all the same, you will get what you want. It’ll bring you to a bad end, my pretty Princess. You want to be rid of[14] your fish tail and have two props to walk on instead, like humans. You think the young Prince may fall in love with you, and you may get him and an immortal soul. Ha!”

With that the Witch laughed loud and hideously.

“So”, said the Witch; “I shall make a drink for you, and with it you must swim to the land before the sun rises. Put yourself on the beach there, and drink it up. Then your tail will part and transform into what men call ‘pretty legs’. But it’ll hurt, it’ll be like a sharp sword. Everybody that sees you will say you are the prettiest human child they ever saw. You’ll keep your gait, and no dancer will be able to dance like you. But every your step will be as if you were treading on a sharp knife. If you can bear all that, I will do what you wish.”

“Yes,” said the little mermaid; and she thought of the Prince and an immortal soul.

“But remember,” said the Witch, “when you take a human shape, you can never become a mermaid again. You can never go down through the water to your sisters or to your father’s palace. And if you don’t win the love of the Prince, then you won’t get your immortal soul. On the first morning after he is married to anyone else, your heart will break and you will become foam on the water.”

“It is my wish,” said the little mermaid, pale as a corpse.

“But you must pay,” said the witch. “You have the loveliest voice of anyone down here at the bottom of the sea. With it no doubt you think you’ll be able to charm him. But you must give me that voice. I must have the best thing you possess as the price of my precious drink. I shall give you my own blood in it, and the drink will be as sharp as a sword.

“But if you take away my voice,” said the little mermaid, “what shall I have?”

“Your beautiful form,” said the witch, “and your gait, and your eyes. With them you can easily delude a human heart. Don’t be afraid. Just put out your little tongue, and I’ll cut it off. And you’ll have the potent drink.”

“So be it,” said the little mermaid, and the witch put her cauldron on the fire to boil the magic drink.

“Cleanliness is a good thing,” said she, and scoured out the cauldron with snakes which she tied in a knot. Then she scratched herself in the breast and dripped the black blood into the pot. The steam took the most dreadful shapes. When the drink was boiling, the sound was like that of a crocodile weeping. At last the drink was ready, and it looked like the clearest of water.

“There you are”, said the witch, and cut off the tongue of the little mermaid. Now she was dumb, she could neither sing nor speak.

“If the polypi want to catch you when you are going back through my wood,” said the Witch, “just throw one drop of that drink on them, and their arms and fingers will break into a thousand bits”.

But there was no need for the little mermaid to do that. The polypi shrank back in fear before her when they saw the drink which glittered in her hand. So she passed quickly through the wood, and the marsh, and the maelstrom.

She saw her father’s palace. No doubt everyone in there was asleep. But she was dumb and was going to leave them for ever. She went into the garden and took one flower from each of her sister’s flower-beds. Then rose up through the dark blue sea.

She saw the Prince’s palace, and clambered up the marble steps. The moon was shining bright. The little mermaid swallowed the drink. She felt like a sword was piercing her delicate body. She swooned with the pain and fell asleep. When the sun shone out over the sea, she awoke and felt a torturing pang. But right in front of her stood the beautiful young Prince. He looked at her. She saw that her fish’s tail was gone and that she now had the pretty small white legs.

But she was quite naked, so she wrapped herself in her long hair. The Prince asked who she was. She gazed at him sweetly and yet sadly with her dark blue eyes. She could not speak. Then he took her by the hand and led her into the palace. Her every step was as if she was treading on sharp swords and knives. But she walked freely, and the Prince and everyone else marvelled at her graceful gait.

They gave her robes of silk and muslin, and she was the fairest of all in the palace. But she was dumb and could neither speak nor sing. Beautiful slave girls came forward and sang to the Prince and his royal parents. One sang more sweetly than all the rest, and the Prince applauded her and smiled on her. Then the little mermaid was sad.

Then the slave girls danced graceful dances. Now the little mermaid raised her pretty white arms and rose on tiptoe and floated over the floor. Everyone was enraptured by it, and more than all, the Prince. She danced again and again, though every time her foot touched the ground it was as though she was treading on sharp knives.

The Prince decided to be with her all the time, and she was allowed to sleep outside his door on a cushion of silk.

He gave her a boy’s dress, and she rode with him on horseback. They rode through the woods, where the green boughs brushed her shoulders, and the little birds sang. With the Prince she clambered up the high mountains, and though her delicate feet were cut, she only laughed, and followed him.

At the Prince’s palace, when at night all the others were asleep, she went out to the broad marble stairs, and stood in the cold sea water. She thought about those who were down in the deeps below.

One night her sisters came up arm in arm. They were singing mournfully as they swam on the water. She beckoned to them, and they recognized her. But they were very sad. After that they visited her every night; and one night she saw far out in the sea, the old grandmother and the Sea King, with his crown on his head. They stretched their arms towards her.

Day by day she became dearer to the Prince: he loved her as people love dear good children. But he did not want marry her and make her his Queen.

“Do you love me?” the little mermaid’s eyes asked when he took her in his arms and kissed her fair brow.

“Yes, you are dearest of all to me,” said the Prince, “You are dearest to me, and you are like a young maiden whom I saw once and certainly will never meet again. I was on a ship that was wrecked, and the waves drove me to land near a holy temple where a number of young maidens ministered. The youngest of them found me on the bank and saved my life. I saw her only twice. She is the only one I can love in all the world, but you are like her. She belongs to that holy temple, and therefore I’ll love you”.

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Примечания

1

at length – наконец

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2

they looked all about them – они осмотрелись

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3

to pay her a visit – нанести визит, проведать

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4

a Guinea fowl’s egg – индюшачье яйцо

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5

in vain – напрасно

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6

keep close to me – держаться ко мне поближе

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7

make yourself at home – будьте как дома

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8

found himself – очутился

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9

to tell clever people from stupid ones – отличить умных людей от глупых

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10

the chief master of the ceremonies – обер-церемониймейстер

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11

weeping willow – плакучая ива

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12

for smartness’ sake – ради красоты

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13

on the rigging and on the yard – на вантах и реях

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14

to be rid of – избавиться от

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