UNDINE. 39
The priest then spoke in a kind although serious tone : " My fair young maiden, surely no one can look on you without pleasure; but remember betimes so to attune your soul, that it ma.y produce a harmony ever in accordance with the soul of j'our wedded bridegroom."
"Soul!" cried Undine, with a laugh. "What you say has a remarkably pretty sound ; and for most people, too, it may be a very instructive and profitable caution. But when a person has no soul at all, how, I pray you, can such attuning be then possible? And this, in truth, is just my condition."
The priest was much hurt, but continued silent in holy displeasure, and turned away his face from the maiden in sorrow. She, however, went up to him with the most winning sweetness, and said :
" Nay, I entreat you, first listen to me, before you are angry with me; for your anger is painful to me, and you ought not to give pain to a creature that has not hurt you. Only have pjitience with me, and I will explain to you every word of what I meant." -
It was evident that she had come to say something im- portant ; when she suddenly faltered, as if seized with an inward shuddering, and burst into a passion of tears. They were none of them able to understand the intenseness of her feelings ; and, with mingled emotions of fear and anx- ietj^, they gazed on her in silence. Then wiping away her tears, and looking earnestly at the priest, she at last said : " There must be something lovely, but at the same time something most awful, about a soul. In the name of God, holy man, were it not better that we never shared a gift so mysterious?"
Again she paused, and restrained her tears, as if wait- ing for an answer. All in the cottage had risen from their seats, and stepped back from her with horror. She, how- ever, seemed to have eyes for no one but the holy man ; an awful curiosity was painted on her features, which ap- peared terrible to the others.
