THE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL
[TO H.S.H. ALICE, PRINCESS OF MONACO]
Every evening the young Fisherma out upon the sea, and threw
his s into the water.
When the wind blew from the land he caught nothing, or but little
at best, for it was a bitter and black-winged wind, and rough waves
rose up to meet it. But when the wind blew to the shore, the fish
came in from the deep, and swam into the meshes of his s, and he
took them to the market-plad sold them.
Every evening he went out upon the sea, and one evening the was
so heavy that hardly could he draw it into the boat. And he
laughed, and said to himself, Surely I have caught all the fish
that swim, or snared some dull mohat will be a marvel to
men, or some thing of horror that the great Queen will desire, and
putting forth all his strength, he tugged at the coarse ropes till,
like lines of blue enamel round a vase of brohe long veins
rose up on his arms. He tugged at the thin ropes, and nearer and
nearer came the circle of flat corks, and the rose at last to
the top of the water.
But no fish at all was in it, nor any monster or thing of horror,
but only a little Mermaid lying fast asleep.
Her hair was as a wet fleece of gold, and each separate hair as a
thread of fine gold in a cup of glass. Her body was as white
ivory, aail was of silver and pearl. Silver and pearl was
her tail, and the green weeds of the sea coiled round it; and like
sea-shells were her ears, and her lips were like sea-coral. The
cold waves dashed over her cold breasts, and the salt glistened
upon her eyelids.
So beautiful was she that when the young Fisherman saw her he was
filled with wonder, a out his hand and drew the close
to him, and leaning over the side he clasped her in his arms. And
wheouched her, she gave a cry like a startled sea-gull, and
woke, and looked at him in terror with her mauve-amethyst eyes, and
struggled that she might escape. But he held her tightly to him,
and would not suffer her to depart.
And when she saw that she could in no way escape from him, she
began to weep, and said, I pray thee let me go, for I am the only
daughter of a King, and my father is aged and alone.
But the young Fisherman answered, I will not let thee go save thou
makest me a promise that whenever I call thee, thou wilt e and
sing to me, for the fish delight to listen to the song of the Sea-
folk, and so shall my s be full.
Wilt thou iruth let me go, if I promise thee this? cried
the Mermaid.
Iruth I will let thee go, said the young Fisherman.
So she made him the promise he desired, and sware it by the oath of
the Sea-folk. And he loosened his arms from about her, and she
sank down into the water, trembling with a strange fear.
Every evening the young Fisherma out upon the sea, and called
to the Mermaid, and she rose out of the water and sang to him.
Round and round her swam the dolphins, and the wild gulls wheeled
above her head.
And she sang a marvellous song. For she sang of the Sea-folk who
drive their flocks from cave to cave, and carry the little calves
on their shoulders; of the Tritons who have long green beards, and
hairy breasts, and blow through twisted chs when the King pas