The little mermaid wanted ever so much to see her; and when she finally did, she had to admit mat a more beautiful girl she had never seen before. Her skin was so delicate and fine, and beneath her long dark lashes smiled a pair of faithful, dark blue eyes.
"It is you!" exclaimed the prince. "You arc the one who saved me, when I lay half dead on the beach!" And he embraced his blushing bride.
"Oh, now I am too happy," he said to the little mermaid.
"That which I never dared hope has now happened! You will share my joy, for I know that you love me more than any of the others do."
The tittle mermaid kissed his hand; she felt as if her heart were breaking. His wedding morning would bring her death and she would be changed into foam of the ocean.
All the churchbeils rang and heralds rode through the streets and announced the wedding to the people. On all the altars costly silver lamps burned with fragrant oils. The priests swung censers with burning incense in them, while the prince and the princess gave each other their hands, and the bishop blessed them. The little mermaid, dressed in silk and gold, held the train of the bride's dress, but her ears did not hear the music, nor did her eyes see the holy ceremony, for this night would bring her death, and she was thinking of all she had lost in this world.
The bride and bridegroom embarked upon the prince's ship; cannons saluted and banners flew. On the main deck, a tent of gold and scarlet cloth had been raised; there on the softest of pillows the brida! couple would sleep.
The sails were unfurled, and they swelled in the wind and me ship glided across the transparent sea.
When it darkened and evening came, colored lamps were lit and the sailors danced on the deck. The little mermaid could not help remembering the first time she had emerged above the waves, when she had seen the almost identical sight. She whirled in the dance, glided as the swallow does in the air when it is pursued. Everyone cheered and applauded her. Never had she danced so beautifully; the sharp knives cut her feet, but she did not feel it, for the pain in her heart was far greater. She knew that this was the last evening that she would see him for whose sake she had given away her lovely voice and left her home and her family; and he would never know of her sacrifice. It was the last night mat she would breathe the same air as he, or look out over the deep sea and up into the star-blue heaven. A dreamless, eternal night awaited her, for she had no soul and had not been able to win one.
Until midnight all was gaiety aboard the ship, and the mermaid danced and laughed with the thought of death in her heart. Then the prince kissed his bride and she fondled his long black hair and, arm in arm, they walked into their splendorous tent, to sleep.
The ship grew quiet. Only the sailor at the helm and the little mermaid were awake. She stood with her white arms resting on the railing and looked toward the east. She searched the horizon for the pink of dawn; she knew that the first sunbeams would kill her.
Out of the sea rose her sisters, but the wind could no longer play with their long beautiful hair, for their heads had been shorn.
"We have given our hair to me sea witch, so that she would help you and you would not have to die this night.
Here is a knife that the witch has given us. Look how sharp it is! Before the sun rises, you must plunge it into the heart of die prince; when his warm blood sprays on your feet, they will turn into a fishtail and you will be a mermaid again. You will be able to live your three hundred years down in the sea with us, before you die and become foam on the ocean. Hurry! He or you must die before the sun rises. Our grandmother moums; she, too, has no hair; hers has fallen out from grief. Kill the prince and come back to us! Hurry! See, there is a pink haze on the horizon. Soon the sun will rise and you will die."
The little mermaid heard the sound of her sisters' deep and strange sighing before they disappeared beneath the waves.
She pulled aside the crimson cloth of the tent and saw the beautiful bride sleeping peacefully, with her head resting on the prince's chest. The little mermaid bent down and kissed his handsome forehead. She turned and looked at the sky; more and more, it was turning red. She glanced at the sharp knife; and once more she looked down at the prince. He moved a little in his steep and whispered the name of his bride. Only she was in his thoughts, in his dreams! The little mermaid's hand trembled as it squeezed the handle of the knife, then she threw the weapon out into the sea. The waves turned red where it fell, as if drops of blood were seeping up through the water.
Again she looked at the prince; her eyes were already glazed in death. She threw herself into the sea and felt her body changing into foam.
The sun rose out of the sea, its rays felt warm and soft on me deathly cold foam. But the little mermaid did not feel death, she saw the sun, and up above her floated hundreds of airy, transparent forms. She could see hght through them, see the sails of the ship and the blood-red clouds. Their voices were melodious, so spiritual and tender that no human ear could hear them, just as their forms were so fragile and fine that no human eye could see them. So light were they that they glided through the air, though they had no wings. The little mermaid looked down and saw that she had an ethereal body like theirs.
"Where am I?" she asked; and her voice sounded like theirs-so lovely and so melodious that no human music could reproduce it.
"We are the daughters of the air," they answered. "Mermaids have no immortal souls and can never have one, unless they can obtain the love of a human being. Their chance of obtaining eternal life depends upon others. We, daughters of the air, have not received an eternal soul either; but we can win one by good deeds. We fly to the warm countries, where the heavy air of the plague rests, and blow cool winds to spread it. We carry the smell of flowers that refresh and heal the sick. If for three hundred years we earnestly try to do ^ what is good, we obtain an immortal soul and can take part in ^ the eternal happiness of man. You, little mermaid, have tried with all your heart to do the same. You have suffered and ^, borne your suffering bravely; and that is why you are now among us, the spirits of the air. Do your good deeds and in ^ three hundred years an immortal soul will be yours."').
The little mermaid lifted her amis up toward God's sun,, ' and for the first time she felt a tear.
She heard noise coming from the ship. She saw the prince and the princess searching for her. Sadly they looked at the sea, as if they knew that she had thrown herself into the '^ waves. Without being seen, she kissed the bride*s forehead and smiled at the prince; then she rose together with the other children of the air, up into a pink cloud that was sailing by.
"In three hundred years I shall rise like this into God's kingdom," she said.
"You may be able to go there before that," whispered one of the others to her. "Invisibly, we fly through the homes of human beings. They can't see us, so they don't know when we are there; but if we find a good child, who makes his parents happy and deserves their love. we smile and God takes a year away from the time of our trial. But if there is a naughty and mean child in the house we come to, we cry; and for every tear we shed, God adds a day to the three hundred years we already must serve."
Minotaur
A bull cult is not an uncommon thing among primitive agricultural peoples. The bull is a strong symbol of masculinity and it is through his matings with cows that generations of cattle to supply beef, milk, cream, cheese, butter, and leather can be maintained-to say nothing of the patient farm work performed by oxen.
The legend of the golden calf during the Exodus was an attempt to establish a bull cult by Israelites tired of dealing with an invisible God. When Israel broke away from the Davidic dynasty, it established a bull cult within its own borders to discourage its people from worshiping at Solomon's temple in Jerusalem.