The Fisherman and his Soul
Every evening the young Fisherman went out upon the sea, and threw his
nets into the water.
When the wind blew from the land he caught nothing, or but little at best,
for it was a bitter and black-winged wind, and rough waves rose up to meet it.
But when the wind blew to the shore, the fish came in from the deep, and
swam into the meshes of his nets, and he took them to the market-place and
sold them.
Every evening he went out upon the sea, and one evening the net was so
heavy that hardly could he draw it into the boat. And he laughed, and said to
himself 'Surely I have caught all the fish that swim, or snared some dull
monster that will be a marvel to men, or some thing of horror that the great
Queen will desire,' and putting forth all his strength, he tugged at the coarse
ropes till, like lines of blue enamel round a vase of bronze, the long veins
rose up on his arms. He tugged at the thin ropes, and nearer and nearer came
the circle of flat corks, and the net rose at last to the top of the water.
But no fish at all was in it, nor any monster or thing of horror, but only a
little Mermaid lying fast asleep.
Her hair was as a wet fleece of gold, and each separate hair as a thread of
line gold in a cup of glass. Her body was as white ivory, and her tail was of
silver and pearl. Silver and pearl was her tail, and the green weeds of the sea
coiled round it; and like sea-shells were her ears, and her lips were like seacoral.
The cold waves dashed over her cold breasts, and the salt glistened
upon her eyelids.
So beautiful was she that when the young Fisherman saw her he was filled
with wonder, and he put out his hand and drew the net close to him, and
leaning over the side he clasped her in his arms. And when he touched her,
she gave a cry like a startled sea-gull and woke, and looked at him in terror
with her mauve-amethyst eyes, and struggled that she might escape. But he
held her tightly to him, and would not suffer her to depart.
And when she saw that she could in no way escape from him, she began to
weep, and said, 'I pray thee let me go, for I am the only daughter of a King,
and my father is aged and alone.'
But the young Fisherman answered, 'I will not let thee go save thou
makest me a promise that whenever I call thee, thou wilt come and sing to
me, for the fish delight to listen to the song of the Sea-folk, and so shall my