10. Look at the Moon.
Early the next morning the prince set out to look for something to
eat, which he soon found at a forester's hut, where for many
following days he was supplied with all that a brave prince could
consider necessary. And having plenty to keep him alive for the
present, he would not think of wants not yet in existence. Whenever
Care intruded, this prince always bowed him out in the most
princely manner.
When he returned from his breakfast to his watch-cave, he saw the
princess already floating about in the lake, attended by the king
and queen whom he knew by their crowns--and a great company in
lovely little boats, with canopies of all the colours of the
rainbow, and flags and streamers of a great many more. It was a
very bright day, and soon the prince, burned up with the heat,
began to long for the cold water and the cool princess. But he had
to endure till twilight; for the boats had provisions on board, and
it was not till the sun went down that the gay party began to
vanish. Boat after boat drew away to the shore, following that of
the king and queen, till only one, apparently the princess's own
boat, remained. But she did not want to go home even yet, and the
prince thought he saw her order the boat to the shore without her.
At all events, it rowed away; and now, of all the radiant company,
only one white speck remained. Then the prince began to sing. And
this is what he sung:--
"Lady fair,
Swan-white,
Lift thine eyes,
Banish night
By the might
Of thine eyes.
Snowy arms,
Oars of snow,
Oar her hither,
Plashing low.
Soft and slow,
Oar her hither.
Stream behind her
O'er the lake,
Radiant whiteness!
In her wake
Following, following for her sake.
Radiant whiteness!
Cling about her,
Waters blue;
Part not from her,
But renew
Cold and true
Kisses round her.
Lap me round,
Waters sad,
That have left her.
Make me glad,
For ye had
Kissed her ere ye left her."
Before he had finished his song, the princess was just under the
place where he sat, and looking up to find him. Her ears had led
her truly.
"Would you like a fall, princess?" said the prince, looking down.
"Ah! there you are! Yes, if you please, prince," said the princess,
looking up.
"How do you know I am a prince, princess?" said the prince.
"Because you are a very nice young man, prince," said the princess.
"Come up then, princess."
"Fetch me, prince."
The prince took off his scarf, then his sword-belt, then his tunic,
and tied them all together, and let them down. But the line was far
too short. He unwound his turban, and added it to the rest, when it
was all but long enough; and his purse completed it. The princess
just managed to lay hold of the knot of money, and was beside him
in a moment. This rock was much higher than the other, and the
splash and the dive were tremendous. The princess was in ecstasies
of delight, and their swim was delicious.
Night after night they met, and swam about in the dark clear lake;
where such was the prince's gladness, that (whether the princess's
way of looking at things infected him, or he was actually getting
light-headed) he often fancied that he was swimming in the sky
instead of the lake. But when he talked about being in heaven, the
princess laughed at him dreadfully.
When the moon came, she brought them fresh pleasure. Everything
looked strange and new in her light, with an old, withered, yet
unfading newness. When the moon was nearly full, one of their great
delights was, to dive deep in the water, and then, turning round,
look up through it at the great blot of light close above them,
shimmering and trembling and wavering, spreading and contracting,
seeming to melt away, and again grow solid. Then they would shoot
up through the blot; and lo! there was the moon, far off, clear and
steady and cold, and very lovely, at the bottom of a deeper and
bluer lake than theirs, as the princess said.
The prince soon found out that while in the water the princess was
very like other people. And besides this, she was not so forward in
her questions or pert in her replies at sea as on shore. Neither
did she laugh so much; and when she did laugh, it was more gently.
She seemed altogether more modest and maidenly in the water than
out of it.
But when the prince, who had really fallen in love when he fell in
the lake, began to talk to her about love, she always turned her
head towards him and laughed. After a while she began to look
puzzled, as if she were trying to understand what he meant, but
could not--revealing a notion that he meant something. But as soon
as ever she left the lake, she was so altered, that the prince said
to himself, "If I marry her, I see no help for it: we must turn
merman and mermaid, and go out to sea at once."
