Undine
F >> Friedrich de la Motte Fouquee >> Undine'If it is true that Undine has won through love a soul, it is one more
pure than mortals know,' he thought to himself.
As he comforted his wife Huldbrand made up his mind to take her away
from the city as soon as possible.
In the city the lady Bertalda was well known, and people talked of the
strange story of her birth. But among them all none was heard to say
an unkind word about Undine, while many there were who blamed Bertalda
for her cruel behaviour toward her friend and the poor old fisherman
and his wife. But this neither the knight nor his lady knew, nor
would it have comforted Undine had she been told.
The morning after the feast a beautiful carriage stood at the door.
Huldbrand and his wife were ready to set out on their journey to the
castle of Ringstetten.
As the knight and Undine were stepping into the carriage a fisher-girl
drew near, and begged them to buy her fish.
'We are leaving the city, we do not need any fish,' said the knight
courteously. But at the sound of his voice the girl burst into tears,
and Huldbrand saw with surprise that it was Bertalda who had spoken to
him.
'Why do you weep so bitterly?' asked Undine, drawing Bertalda into the
house, and the maiden, who had no pride left, told her story.
'My foster-parents,' she said between her sobs, 'my foster-parents are
so displeased with my cruel behaviour to you and to the old fisherman
and his wife, that they no longer wish me to live with them. They have
given me a large sum of money and have sent me away into the wide
world. The fisherman and his wife, to whom they have also given gifts,
have gone back to their cottage by the lake. I was too fearful to wish
to be left alone in the world, and fain would I have gone with them to
their simple home, but he who is said to be my father--'
[Illustration: At the sound of his voice the girl burst into tears]
'In truth he is your father,' interrupted Undine, and her voice was
grave.
'Even if he be my father,' answered Bertalda, 'yet would he not take
me with him to his cottage. Did I care for him or for his wife, he
said, I would not fear to journey alone through the haunted forest,
until I found my home. Nor would he welcome me should I go to him
dressed in aught save the dress of a fisher-girl. Although the thought
of the forest makes me tremble, yet will I do as he has said. But
first I have come to you, gentle lady,' and as she spoke Bertalda
looked entreatingly at Undine, 'I have come to ask your forgiveness
for my behaviour yesterday. I believe that you did indeed wish to give
me joy by bringing my poor parents to the feast. O forgive me, forgive
all the bold and unkind words I spoke, for indeed I am very unhappy.'
But the gentle Undine would let the miserable maiden say no more. She
threw her arms around Bertalda's neck, and said, 'Bertalda, dear
Bertalda, you shall live with me and be my sister. You shall come with
me to Ringstetten this very day.'
The maiden dried her tears and looked timidly at the knight. He also
felt sorry for Bertalda, nor did it please him to think of her
venturing alone into the forest. Too well he knew the terrors which
might surround her there. He took her hand, as he saw her timid look,
and said in a gentle voice, 'You shall live with us at Ringstetten,
and I and my wife will take care of you. But lest the good old
fisherman is troubled as the days pass and you do not reach the
cottage, I will send to tell him that you have come with us and are
safe at Castle Ringstetten.' Then, giving Bertalda his arm, he placed
her in the carriage with Undine. The knight himself mounted his horse
and rode along gaily by their side, and soon they left the city and
all sad thoughts behind.
At length, one fair summer evening, the travellers reached
Ringstetten. There was much to make the knight busy after his long
absence, and thus it was that Undine and Bertalda spent many days
alone together. Often they would walk in the beautiful country which
lay without the castle grounds.
One day, as they wandered along the banks of the river Danube, a tall
man came toward them, and would have spoken to Undine. But Undine,
gentle as were her ways, had no welcome for the stranger. When she saw
him, a frown crossed her sweet face and she bid him at once begone.
Shaking his head the tall man yet obeyed, and walking with hasty steps
toward a little wood, he soon disappeared.
'Is not the stranger he who spoke to you in the city, the Master of
the fountain?' cried Bertalda fearfully. She would always be afraid of
the man who had told Undine the secret of her birth.
'Fear nothing, dear Bertalda,' said Undine hastily, 'the Master of the
fountain shall not do you harm. I will tell you who he is, and then
you will no longer be afraid. His name is Kuehleborn and he is my
uncle. It was he who carried you away from your mother's arms and put
me there in your place.'
Then, as Bertalda listened with wide open eyes, Undine told her of her
childhood's home in the crystal palace under the blue sea, and of the
free and careless life she had lived in the cottage by the lake. She
told her, too, of the coming of the knight, and of their wedding-day,
when she had won for herself a soul, a gift given to no Undine save
through the power of love.
Bertalda listened to the strange story in silence, but as she listened
she felt a faint feeling of dread creep into her heart. And the
feeling grew and grew until at last it seemed to stand as a wall
between her and the gentle Undine.
At supper that evening she began to be sorry for the knight, who had
married a lady beautiful indeed and good, yet one who seemed to belong
to another world than theirs.
CHAPTER XII
CASTLE RINGSTETTEN
Now as the days passed, a change crept over those who dwelt in the
castle.
Huldbrand saw that Bertalda seemed to shrink away from his beautiful
wife. And when at length he asked her the reason that she no longer
loved Undine so well as she had been used to do, she told him that she
now knew from whence his wife had come. 'And for the spirit world,'
said Bertalda, 'I do not care, for I know it not. It and those who
have dwelt there fill me with fear and dread.'
Little by little the knight himself began to look at his wife with
less loving eyes, little by little he began to shun her presence.
Then Undine, seeing that her husband's love grew less, wept, and the
knight, seeing her tears, would speak kindly to her, yet even as he
spoke he would leave her side to walk with Bertalda.
She, Bertalda, meanwhile grew once more rude and proud, nor could
Undine's patience win her to behave more wisely.
Then in the long dark passages of the old castle, spectres began to
appear to Huldbrand and Bertalda, and worse than any was the tall form
of Kuehleborn, or the Master of the fountain, as the maiden still
called him.
Now one day, when Huldbrand had ridden to the hunt, Undine gathered
all her servants together in the court of the castle and bade them
bring a big stone to cover up the fountain which stood in the middle
of the square.
The servants, who loved their mistress, hastened to obey her commands.
A huge stone was carried into the court, and was just about to be
placed on the fountain when Bertalda came hurriedly to the spot.
'The fountain must not be closed,' she cried haughtily, 'for it is
from it that water is drawn for my daily bath.'
But Undine, who on other days had often given way to the wishes of
Bertalda, was to-day determined that her will should be done.
'It is I who am mistress of the castle in the absence of my lord,' she
said, and her voice was firm though it was kind, 'and the fountain
shall be closed as I have commanded.'
'But look,' cried Bertalda angrily, 'the water itself bubbles and
heaves as though disturbed at the thought of being shut out from the
glad sunshine.'
The water was indeed, as the maiden said, fretting against the stones
and throwing out sudden jets as though in a violent passion.
The more excited grew the water, however, the more determined grew
Undine to have her order fulfilled, and that without delay.
As for the servants, they had no wish to please the haughty Bertalda,
they were even glad to disobey her when that might be.
Accordingly they no longer delayed to do the will of their gentle
mistress, and the stone was soon placed securely over the opening of
the fountain. Undine then bent over it and silently wrote on the top
of the stone some strange letters.
That evening, when Huldbrand came home, Bertalda met him with tears in
her eyes, and complained to him of his wife's strange conduct.
'Tell me why you have ordered that the fountain should be sealed,'
said the knight, turning sullenly to his wife. 'It was a strange
deed.'
'I will tell you the reason when we are alone,' said Undine. 'It was
a grave one indeed.'
'It matters not if Bertalda should hear,' said the knight, and he did
not hide the impatience that he felt.
'I will tell you in her presence if you so desire,' said Undine, 'but
I beseech you, desire it not.'
As the knight looked into her pleading face and let her sweet voice
steal into his heart, he grew ashamed of himself. How could he ever be
unkind to so fair, so good a wife!
Thinking thus Huldbrand did not speak, but he drew Undine gently from
the room, that she might speak to him alone as she wished to do.
'Ah, now I can tell you,' said Undine, and she smiled in her content.
'You know that Kuehleborn, my uncle, has begun to haunt the castle. I
send him away in my displeasure, yet again and again he returns. Now I
have shut the door by which he comes, and here he will disturb our
peace no more. It is true that the stone can easily be raised by
strong men, in spite of the letters which I wrote upon it. If you wish
to do as Bertalda demands, remove the stone, yet do I warn you that
Kuehleborn may well harm the maiden, for against her he bears more
ill-will than he does against others.'
Once more, as Huldbrand listened to his wife, he was ashamed. So
gentle was she, so kind to the haughty maiden who but mocked at her
for all her love. Peerless indeed was the soul of his beautiful wife,
and once again love for her sprang up within his heart.
'The stone shall not be removed, nor shall anything that you order be
undone, my sweet Undine,' said the knight.
At these words, and yet more at the kindness of his voice, Undine
rejoiced. Then, seizing Huldbrand's hand, she begged him to grant her
one request.
'If at any time, in the days that are to come,' she said, 'you upbraid
me, promise that this you will never do while we are sailing or while
we are near to sea or lake or tiny rivulet. For should one of my race
hear you use harsh words toward me, then would they regain their
power, and snatch me away from you for ever. Then would I be forced to
dwell all the rest of my life in the crystal palace below the blue
sea. Nor could I ever come up to you unless, indeed, I was sent by my
kindred, when alas! only great sadness would befall us both. Promise
me, therefore, that when we are near water, you will remember what I
have now told you.'
Huldbrand promised, and hand in hand they went in search of Bertalda.
She meanwhile had called together some workmen, and as she saw the
knight and Undine drawing near, she gave her orders to the men in a
loud, discontented voice. 'The stone may now be removed. Hasten, see
that it be done immediately!'
But the knight was angry with the maiden for daring thus to give what
orders she pleased, and he shouted at once, so that the workmen might
hear, 'The stone shall stay where it is! It shall not be removed!'
And the men went away, well pleased that they need not undo what their
gentle mistress had ordered to be done.
Huldbrand then reproved Bertalda for her rude behaviour to his wife,
but she scarcely heard his words, as she turned away in anger and
hastened to her room.
Soon supper was placed on the table, but Huldbrand and Undine waited
in vain for Bertalda. At length they sent a servant to call her, but
the maid came back only to tell them that she was nowhere to be found.
In her room, however, a letter had been left addressed to the knight.
Huldbrand opened it hastily and read:--
'Forgive me, Sir Knight, that I have forgotten that I am only a poor
fisher-girl. I will go to my father's miserable cottage, where I
cannot well commit the same fault again. Fare you well, you and your
beautiful wife.'
'You must go without delay to seek her and bring her back,' said
Undine.
And Huldbrand did not need to be urged. Already he had ordered his
horse to be saddled that he might ride after the maiden.
In vain he asked the servants in what direction Bertalda had gone. No
one had seen her. It was only as the knight impatiently mounted his
steed, that a page ran up to him crying, 'The lady Bertalda rode
toward the Black Valley.'
Without a pause the knight darted off in the direction of the valley.
He did not hear his wife's voice crying after him, 'Huldbrand,
Huldbrand, go not there, not to the valley, Huldbrand, or, if go you
must, take me, I entreat of you.'
Then when Undine saw that her cry was unheard, she ordered her palfrey
to be saddled instantly, and mounting it, she rode forth alone to
follow the knight into the Black Valley.
CHAPTER XIII
THE BLACK VALLEY
The Black Valley was a gloomy place. Fir-trees grew tall and dark on
the banks of the stream, casting strange shadows on the sunny waters.
As the knight entered the valley, evening had fallen and the stream
rushed, dark and sullen, between the rocks.
Huldbrand glanced anxiously from side to side, but no trace could be
found of the maiden whom he sought. He began to fear lest already she
were in peril, and thinking thus he urged his horse yet further into
the valley.
Peering through the bushes as he rode, he at length caught sight of
something white lying on the ground. Had he found Bertalda at last?
He spurred his horse onward toward the white gleam which had caught
his eye, but the animal no sooner saw the object which had gladdened
his master's eye than it started violently and refused to move. Then
the knight dismounted, and tying his now rearing steed to an elm, he
pushed his way on foot through the brushwood.
Thunder began to rumble around the mountains, and the evening dew fell
cold and damp on the anxious knight.
He could still see the white figure lying on the ground, but as he
drew nearer to it a strange dread struck at Huldbrand's heart.
'Was Bertalda asleep,' he wondered, 'or did she lie there unconscious,
perchance even dead?'
He was close to her now, bending over her. She never stirred. He
rustled the branches, rattled his sword. Still she lay there quiet,
motionless. He called her by her name, 'Bertalda!' but no voice
answered him. He called again, more loud, 'Bertalda!' but only a
sorrowful echo answered his cry.
Then the knight bent nearer yet to the maiden, but darkness hid the
face on which he longed to gaze.
Suddenly the whole valley was bright as at mid-day. A vivid flash of
lightning showed to Huldbrand the face over which he bent.
It was a terrible face. And a voice, awful as the face, rang out harsh
and hollow.
With a cry of terror the knight sprang away from the horrid vision.
But was it a vision? Huldbrand knew that it was creeping after him,
and he could catch some muttered words. 'Get you gone, get you gone,'
he heard, 'there are evil spirits abroad. Get you gone, or I shall
seize you and hold you fast,' and the white figure stretched out his
bony arms to catch him. Ah! now the knight knew who it was that had
given him so cruel a fright. It was none other than Kuehleborn, the
malicious water spirit.
Seizing his sword, Huldbrand struck fiercely at the white figure, only
however to see it vanish, while a heavy shower of water drenched him
from head to foot.
'He may wish to drive me away, but he shall not succeed in doing so,'
murmured the knight. 'Bertalda shall not be left to the vengeance of
this evil spirit.'
Huldbrand now turned back to go to his horse, but ere he reached the
animal, he heard in the distance a sound of weeping. It reached his
ears even though the thunder still rolled and the wind still blew. He
hastened towards the spot from which the sound seemed to come. There,
on the hillside, trying to climb up out of the darkness of the valley,
he found Bertalda.
The maiden was too glad to see Huldbrand to remember how but lately he
had angered her. She clung to him, calling him her deliverer, her
knight, for to her too the valley had been full of horrible forms and
strange visions.
Soothing her with kind words, Huldbrand led the maiden toward his
horse.
But no sooner did the animal see his master approach with Bertalda on
his arm than it began to rear, beating the air madly with its
forefeet.
It was not possible to mount Bertalda, and the knight soon gave up the
attempt. He drew the horse gently forward by the bridle, while with
his other arm he supported the fearful maiden.
But Bertalda, though she was anxious to escape from the dark valley,
could walk but slowly, and at each step her strength grew less. For
Kuehleborn had played her many pranks ere she had been found. The storm
also had bruised her slender form.
At length she slipped from the knight's arm, and falling on the grass,
she sighed, 'Leave me, noble knight, leave me to suffer the punishment
I deserve.'
'I will never leave you, dear Bertalda,' cried the knight. As he
spoke, the steed began to plunge even more furiously than before. It
was impossible for Huldbrand to control the animal. All he could do
was to force it away a few paces from where the maiden lay, for he
feared lest the horse should trample her to death.
He had gone but a few steps when he heard her calling to him,
'Huldbrand, Huldbrand, leave me not alone,' for already all her
courage had faded away.
As he hesitated, the knight heard the wheels of a wagon rumble slowly
over the rough road that led through the valley. He at once called to
the driver to come to his help. A man's voice called back quickly,
'Have but patience, and I will come.'
Soon afterwards Huldbrand saw two white horses appear through the
trees. Then a wagon covered with a great white hood was to be seen,
and last of all the driver, who was dressed in a white carter's frock.
The driver drew near to the knight and tried to help him to quiet his
frightened steed.
'Do you know, Sir Knight, why your good horse shivers thus?' asked the
carter, 'for if not I can tell you. A bad water spirit dwells in this
valley, and often he would bewitch my horses when first I ventured
through it. But now I have learned a little spell. If you wish it, I
will whisper it in the ear of your steed, and he will stand steady as
my greys.'
'You may try your spell,' said the knight, 'though I fear that it will
be of but little use.'
Then the driver of the wagon went quietly up to the panting steed, and
said a few words to it. At once the horse stood still, without a trace
of the fear which had made it so restless and unmanageable.
Huldbrand had no time to wonder what the wagoner had said to his
horse. He was too eager to get Bertalda out of the valley to think of
anything else.
'My wagon will take the fair lady safely back to Ringstetten,' said
the wagoner. 'She may sit in it in comfort, for it is filled with bags
of the softest cotton.'
The knight was glad to accept this offer, and as his horse, though
quiet, was tired and weary, Huldbrand himself was easily persuaded
that he also should ride in the wagon with Bertalda, while his steed
was fastened behind.
'It is well,' said the wagoner, 'that the road is downhill. My trusty
greys will step out bravely.'
Thus they started, the driver walking by the side of his wagon.
And Bertalda and the knight did not heed the jolting of the wagon, as
they sat side by side on the soft bags of cotton.
Suddenly they were startled by a loud shout from the driver.
'Steady, now, my trusty greys, steady, lest you fall.'
Already the wagon was in the midst of a stream of rushing water, and
it seemed as though the horses must be carried off their feet. The
wagoner had sprung into the wagon untouched by the swirling waters.
'This is a strange way by which to drive us,' said Huldbrand to the
wagoner. 'It seems to go right into the middle of the stream.'
'Nay, now, Sir Knight,' laughed the driver, 'if you look again, you
will see that it is the stream which is rushing across our path. See,
it has overflowed its banks.'
The knight looked and saw that the whole valley was being rapidly
flooded. Then, all at once, he knew that this was Kuehleborn's doing.
'It is Kuehleborn,' he cried aloud, 'Kuehleborn the water spirit, who is
doing his utmost to drown us. Do you not know a spell against his
power?'
'Yea, by my troth I know a spell,' answered the wagoner, 'but ere I
use it, I must tell you who I am.'
'I care not who you may be,' shouted the angry knight. 'See you not
that there is no time to lose. The water is rising rapidly.'
'Nevertheless,' answered the man,' you shall hear my name, for I am
Kuehleborn!'
He laughed a mocking laugh, and at that moment the wagon seemed to
disappear, and Bertalda and the knight were struggling in the flood.
Above them rose the wagoner, who was indeed, as he had said,
Kuehleborn. Taller and taller he towered above them, until he seemed at
last to change into a great white wave.
With horror-stricken eyes the maiden and the knight saw the wave swoop
down upon the noble steed, which had been vainly struggling in the
water. Then slowly once more the wave reared itself higher and higher
yet above the heads of the two who watched and waited until they too
should be for ever buried beneath the waters.
But ere the great white wave rolled down upon them, they were saved.
Through the tumult of the waters a sweet voice floated to Bertalda and
the knight. Then, as the moon broke through the clouds, they saw
Undine on a hill looking down into the valley.
She rebuked the waters, she even threatened the vast wave that towered
above Bertalda and the knight, until muttering gloomily it vanished
from their sight.
As the waters ran more quietly through the valley, Undine flew to them
swiftly as a bird and drew them up out of reach of the water. Bidding
them rest a while, for they were weary, she went a little way off to
fetch her white palfrey. Then, telling the knight to place Bertalda on
the saddle, she led them safely back to the castle.
CHAPTER XIV
HULDBRAND FORGETS HIS PROMISE
Undine was full of joy when she had saved Bertalda and Huldbrand from
the dangers of the Black Valley, and brought them back safely to
Castle Ringstetten. Her joy grew daily greater as her husband became
kind and gentle to her as he had used to be when they dwelt together
in the cottage by the lake. Indeed the knight had grown ashamed of his
careless words and ways. He would never again speak harshly to Undine
or leave her side to spend long hours with Bertalda; so he thought to
himself. For when she had hastened to save him and the maiden from the
doom which had all but overtaken them, he had seen once more, in a
flash, the soul of his beautiful young wife. It shone before him now,
fair and spotless in its beauty.
Bertalda, too, had been touched by the goodness of her friend. She no
longer wished to mock her gentle words, and though her heart was
cold, she grew more humble.
Thus trouble and care passed away from Ringstetten, and spectres no
longer haunted the dark corners of the castle.
Winter came, cold and chill, but it had no power to freeze the hearts
of Undine and the knight.
Spring came, and the trees grew green, and the sky shone more blue,
and the little birds began to use their wings. Soon the swallows and
the storks came home from their long winter journeys. And those in the
castle, as they thought of the fair countries these had seen, began
themselves to wish to travel.
One beautiful evening Huldbrand with his wife and Bertalda walked
along the banks of the river Danube. The knight, who had ofttimes
sailed down the river, told them tales of the wonderful countries
through which it flowed, and of the beautiful town of Vienna, which
rose so proudly on its banks.
'Ah!' said Bertalda, 'how I wish we might sail to this city of which
you tell.'
And Undine, ever anxious to give pleasure to her friend, said, 'Yes,
let us visit Vienna while the spring is still fair.' Huldbrand also
was pleased at the thought of the journey, only once he bent toward
Undine and whispered, 'Kuehleborn, will we not be in his power if we
sail down the river?'
His beautiful wife only laughed. She was too happy now to fear her
uncle's power.
They therefore got ready for the journey with much merriment and many
hopes.
When at length the three travellers, with their attendants, set out on
their voyage, it seemed as though all would be as joyful as they had
wished. As they sailed on, the river grew more broad, more green the
grasses too in the rich meadow-lands.