return to us to live out your three hundred years before you die and change
into the salt sea foam. Haste, then; he or you must die before sunrise. Our
old grandmother moans so for you, that her white hair is falling off from
sorrow, as ours fell under the witch’s scissors. Kill the prince and come
back; hasten: do you not see the first red streaks in the sky? In a few
minutes the sun will rise, and you must die.” And then they sighed deeply
and mournfully, and sank down beneath the waves.
The little mermaid drew back the crimson curtain of the tent, and beheld
the fair bride with her head resting on the prince’s breast. She bent down
and kissed his fair brow, then looked at the sky on which the rosy dawn
grew brighter and brighter; then she glanced at the sharp knife, and again
fixed her eyes on the prince, who whispered the name of his bride in his
dreams. She was in his thoughts, and the knife trembled in the hand of the
little mermaid: then she flung it far away from her into the waves; the water
turned red where it fell, and the drops that spurted up looked like blood. She
cast one more lingering, half-fainting glance at the prince, and then threw
herself from the ship into the sea, and thought her body was dissolving into
foam. The sun rose above the waves, and his warm rays fell on the cold
foam of the little mermaid, who did not feel as if she were dying. She saw
the bright sun, and all around her floated hundreds of transparent beautiful
beings; she could see through them the white sails of the ship, and the red
clouds in the sky; their speech was melodious, but too ethereal to be heard
by mortal ears, as they were also unseen by mortal eyes. The little mermaid
perceived that she had a body like theirs, and that she continued to rise
higher and higher out of the foam. “Where am I?” asked she, and her voice
sounded ethereal, as the voice of those who were with her; no earthly music
could imitate it.
