beloved; blame all others as you will, but not
me. You know why!" And in truth, though he was trembling with excess of
passion, he kept himself from any word directly against her.

She then brought up in her wet hand, which she had been holding under
the waves, a coral necklace, of such exquisite beauty, such sparkling
brilliancy, as dazzled the eyes of all who beheld it. "Take this," said
she, holding it out kindly to Bertalda, "I have ordered it to be brought
to make some amends for your loss; so do not grieve any more, poor
child."

But the knight rushed between then, and snatching the beautiful ornament
out of Undine's hand, hurled it back into the flood; and, mad with rage,
exclaimed: "So, then, you have still a connection with them! In the
name of all witches go and remain among them with your presents, you
sorceress, and leave us human beings in peace!"

With fixed but streaming eyes, poor Undine gazed on him, her hand still
stretched out, just as when she had so lovingly offered her brilliant
gift to Bertalda. She then began to weep more and more, as if her heart
would break, like an innocent tender child, cruelly aggrieved. At last,
wearied out, she said: "Farewell, dearest, farewell. They shall do you
no harm; only remain true, that I may have power to keep them from you.
But I must go hence! go hence even in this early youth! Oh, woe, woe!
what have you done! Oh, woe, woe!"

And she vanished over the side of the boat. Whether she plunged into the
stream, or whether, like water melting into water, she flowed away with
it, they knew not--her disappearance was like both and neither. But she
was lost in the Danube, instantly and completely; only little waves were
yet whispering and sobbing around the boat, and they could almost be
heard to say, "Oh, woe, woe! Ah, remain true! Oh, woe!"

But Huldbrand, in a passion of burning tears, threw himself upon the
deck of the bark; and a deep swoon soon wrapped the wretched man in a
blessed forgetfulness of misery.

Shall we call it a good or an evil thing, that our mourning has no
long duration? I mean that deep mourning which comes from the very
well-springs of our being, which so becomes one with the lost objects
of our love that we hardly realize their loss, while our grief devotes
itself religiously to the honouring of their image until we reach that
bourne which they have already reached!

Truly all good men observe in a degree this religious devotion; but ye