into the glass cupola of the ceiling, through which the sun shone down upon
the water and upon the beautiful plants growing round the basin of the
fountain. Now that she knew where he lived, she spent many an evening
and many a night on the water near the palace. She would swim much
nearer the shore than any of the others ventured to do; indeed once she went
quite up the narrow channel under the marble balcony, which threw a broad
shadow on the water. Here she would sit and watch the young prince, who
thought himself quite alone in the bright moonlight. She saw him many
times of an evening sailing in a pleasant boat, with music playing and flags
waving. She peeped out from among the green rushes, and if the wind
caught her long silvery-white veil, those who saw it believed it to be a
swan, spreading out its wings. On many a night, too, when the fishermen,
with their torches, were out at sea, she heard them relate so many good
things about the doings of the young prince, that she was glad she had saved
his life when he had been tossed about half-dead on the waves. And she
remembered that his head had rested on her bosom, and how heartily she
had kissed him; but he knew nothing of all this, and could not even dream
of her. She grew more and more fond of human beings, and wished more
and more to be able to wander about with those whose world seemed to be
so much larger than her own. They could fly over the sea in ships, and
mount the high hills which were far above the clouds; and the lands they
possessed, their woods and their fields, stretched far away beyond the reach
of her sight. There was so much that she wished to know, and her sisters
were unable to answer all her questions. Then she applied to her old
grandmother, who knew all about the upper world, which she very rightly
called the lands above the sea.
“If human beings are not drowned,” asked the little mermaid, “can they
live forever? do they never die as we do here in the sea?”
“Yes,” replied the old lady, “they must also die, and their term of life is
even shorter than ours. We sometimes live to three hundred years, but when
we cease to exist here we only become the foam on the surface of the water,
and we have not even a grave down here of those we love. We have not
