It was evident that she was preparing herself to explain something
in detail, but suddenly she hesitated, as if seized with an inward
shuddering, and burst out into a flood of tears. They none of them
knew what to make of this ebullition, and filled with various
apprehensions they gazed at her in silence. At length, wiping away
her tears, and looking earnestly at the reverend man, she said:
"There must be something beautiful, but at the same time extremely
awful, about a soul. Tell me, holy sir, were it not better that we
never shared such a gift?" She was silent again as if waiting for an
answer, and her tears had ceased to flow. All in the cottage had
risen from their seats and had stepped back from her with horror.
She, however, seemed to have eyes for no one but the holy man; her
features wore an expression of fearful curiosity, which appeared
terrible to those who saw her. "The soul must be a heavy burden,"
she continued, as no one answered her, "very heavy! for even its
approaching image overshadows me with anxiety and sadness. And, ah!
I was so light-hearted and so merry till now!" And she burst into a
fresh flood of tears, and covered her face with the drapery she
wore. Then the priest went up to her with a solemn air, and spoke to
her, and conjured her by the name of the Most Holy to cast aside the
veil that enveloped her, if any spirit of evil possessed her. But
she sank on her knees before him, repeating all the sacred words he
uttered, praising God, and protesting that she wished well with the
whole world.

Then at last the priest said to the knight: "Sir bridegroom, I will
leave you alone with her whom I have united to you in marriage. So
far as I can discover there is nothing of evil in her, but much
indeed that is mysterious. I commend to you--prudence, love, and
fidelity." So saying, he went out, and the fisherman and his wife
followed him, crossing themselves.

Undine had sunk on her knees: she unveiled her face and said,
looking timidly round on Huldbrand: "Alas! you will surely now not
keep me as your own; and yet I have done no evil, poor child that I
am!" As she said this, she looked so exquisitely graceful and
touching, that her bridegroom forgot all the horror he had felt, and
all the mystery that clung to her, and hastening to her he raised
her in his arms. She smiled through her tears; it was a smile like
the morning-light playing on a little stream.

"You cannot leave me," she whispered