Undine by Friedrich de la Motte Fouquée
page 48 of 94 (51%)
page 48 of 94 (51%)
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Together the knight and his wife went to the door of the cottage, and looked out at the meadows and the lake lying in the morning sunshine. 'Why should we leave this quiet spot to-day?' said Huldbrand, for well he loved the island where he had found his beautiful bride. 'In the great world we will spend no gladder days than in this simple meadow-land. Let us, then, yet linger here for a few days.' 'It shall be as you wish,' answered Undine. 'Yet will my foster-parents grieve the more when I leave them, should they learn that I have now a soul. To-day they only marvel that I am kind and thoughtful, thinking that to-morrow I will once again be wild and careless as of old. But should I dwell here much longer they will know that never in the days to come will I be thoughtless as in former days. For I cannot hide my new gift. They will hear it in my voice, they will feel it in my touch, they will see it in my eyes. And having known that now, at length, I could love them well, they would grieve to lose me.' 'We will leave to-day, this very hour,' said the knight, so pleased was he with Undine's new care for her kind old foster-parents. The priest who had found shelter in the cottage was also ready to return to his monastery. He would journey with the knight and his lady until they were safe from the perils of the haunted wood. Accordingly they sought the fisherman and his wife, and told them that now they must leave the shelter of their cottage and journey toward the city that lay beyond the forest. |
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