But the young Fisherman answered not his Soul,but in a cleft of the rock he built himself a house of wattles,and abode there for the space of a year.And every morning he called to the Mermaid,and every noon he called to her again,and at night-time he spake her name.Yet never did she rise out of the sea to meet him,nor in any place of the sea could he find her though he sought for her in the caves and in the green water,in the pools of the tide and in the wells that are at the bottom of the deep.
And ever did his Soul tempt him with evil,and whisper of terrible things.Yet did it not prevail against him,so great was the power of his love.
And after the year was over,the Soul thought within himself,'Ihave tempted my master with evil,and his love is stronger than Iam.I will tempt him now with good,and it may be that he will come with me.'
So he spake to the young Fisherman and said,'I have told thee of the joy of the world,and thou hast turned a deaf ear to me.
Suffer me now to tell thee of the world's pain,and it may be that thou wilt hearken.For of a truth pain is the Lord of this world,nor is there any one who escapes from its net.There be some who lack raiment,and others who lack bread.There be widows who sit in purple,and widows who sit in rags.To and fro over the fens go the lepers,and they are cruel to each other.The beggars go up and down on the highways,and their wallets are empty.Through the streets of the cities walks Famine,and the Plague sits at their gates.Come,let us go forth and mend these things,and make them not to be.Wherefore shouldst thou tarry here calling to thy love,seeing she comes not to thy call?And what is love,that thou shouldst set this high store upon it?'
But the young Fisherman answered it nought,so great was the power of his love.And every morning he called to the Mermaid,and every noon he called to her again,and at night-time he spake her name.
Yet never did she rise out of the sea to meet him,nor in any place of the sea could he find her,though he sought for her in the rivers of the sea,and in the valleys that are under the waves,in the sea that the night makes purple,and in the sea that the dawn leaves grey.
And after the second year was over,the Soul said to the young Fisherman at night-time,and as he sat in the wattled house alone,'Lo!now I have tempted thee with evil,and I have tempted thee with good,and thy love is stronger than I am.Wherefore will Itempt thee no longer,but I pray thee to suffer me to enter thy heart,that I may be one with thee even as before.'
'Surely thou mayest enter,'said the young Fisherman,'for in the days when with no heart thou didst go through the world thou must have much suffered.'
'Alas!'cried his Soul,'I can find no place of entrance,so compassed about with love is this heart of thine.'
'Yet I would that I could help thee,'said the young Fisherman.
And as he spake there came a great cry of mourning from the sea,even the cry that men hear when one of the Sea-folk is dead.And the young Fisherman leapt up,and left his wattled house,and ran down to the shore.And the black waves came hurrying to the shore,bearing with them a burden that was whiter than silver.White as the surf it was,and like a flower it tossed on the waves.And the surf took it from the waves,and the foam took it from the surf,and the shore received it,and lying at his feet the young Fisherman saw the body of the little Mermaid.Dead at his feet it was lying.
Weeping as one smitten with pain he flung himself down beside it,and he kissed the cold red of the mouth,and toyed with the wet amber of the hair.He flung himself down beside it on the sand,weeping as one trembling with joy,and in his brown arms he held it to his breast.Cold were the lips,yet he kissed them.Salt was the honey of the hair,yet he tasted it with a bitter joy.He kissed the closed eyelids,and the wild spray that lay upon their cups was less salt than his tears.
And to the dead thing he made confession.Into the shells of its ears he poured the harsh wine of his tale.He put the little hands round his neck,and with his fingers he touched the thin reed of the throat.Bitter,bitter was his joy,and full of strange gladness was his pain.
The black sea came nearer,and the white foam moaned like a leper.
With white claws of foam the sea grabbled at the shore.From the palace of the Sea-King came the cry of mourning again,and far out upon the sea the great Tritons blew hoarsely upon their horns.
