There was once upon a time a miller1 who lived with his wife in great contentment. They had money and land, and their prosperity increased year by year more and more. But ill-luck comes like a thief in the night, as their wealth had increased so did it again decrease, year by year, and at last the miller could hardly call the mill in which he lived, his own. He was in great distress2, and when he lay down after his day’s work, found no rest, but tossed about in his bed, full of care. One morning he rose before daybreak and went out into the open air, thinking that perhaps there his heart might become lighter3. As he was stepping over the mill- dam the first sunbeam was just breaking forth4, and he heard a rippling5 sound in the pond. He turned round and perceived a beautiful woman, rising slowly out of the water. Her long hair, which she was holding off her shoulders with her soft hands, fell down on both sides, and covered her white body. He soon saw that she was the Nix of the Mill-pond, and in his fright did not know whether he should run away or stay where he was. But the nix made her sweet voice heard, called him by his name, and asked him why he was so sad? The miller was at first struck dumb, but when he heard her speak so kindly6, he took heart, and told her how he had formerly7 lived in wealth and happiness, but that now he was so poor that he did not know what to do. “Be easy,” answered the nix, “I will make thee richer and happier than thou hast ever been before, only thou must promise to give me the young thing which has just been born in thy house.” “What else can that be,” thought the miller, “but a young puppy or kitten?” and he promised her what she desired. The nix descended8 into the water again, and he hurried back to his mill, consoled and in good spirits. He had not yet reached it, when the maid-servant came out of the house, and cried to him to rejoice, for his wife had given birth to a little boy. The miller stood as if struck by lightning; he saw very well that the cunning nix had been aware of it, and had cheated him. Hanging his head, he went up to his wife’s bedside and when she said, “Why dost thou not rejoice over the fine boy?” he told her what had befallen him, and what kind of a promise he had given to the nix. “Of what use to me are riches and prosperity?” he added, “if I am to lose my child; but what can I do?” Even the relations, who had come thither9 to wish them joy, did not know what to say. In the meantime prosperity again returned to the miller’s house. All that he undertook succeeded, it was as if presses and coffers filled themselves of their own accord, and as if money multiplied nightly in the cupboards. It was not long before his wealth was greater than it had ever been before. But he could not rejoice over it untroubled, for the bargain which he had made with the nix tormented10 his soul. Whenever he passed the mill-pond, he feared she might ascend11 and remind him of his debt. He never let the boy himself go near the water. “Beware,” he said to him, “if thou dost but touch the water, a hand will rise, seize thee, and draw thee down.” But as year after year went by and the nix did not show herself again, the miller began to feel at ease. The boy grew up to be a youth and was apprenticed12 to a huntsman. When he had learnt everything, and had become an excellent huntsman, the lord of the village took him into his service. In the village lived a beautiful and true-hearted maiden13, who pleased the huntsman, and when his master perceived that, he gave him a little house, the two were married, lived peacefully and happily, and loved each other with all their hearts.
One day the huntsman was chasing a roe14; and when the animal turned aside from the forest into the open country, he pursued it and at last shot it. He did not notice that he was now in the neighbourhood of the dangerous mill-pond, and went, after he had disembowelled the stag, to the water, in order to wash his blood-stained hands. Scarcely, however, had he dipped them in than the nix ascended15, smilingly wound her dripping arms around him, and drew him quickly down under the waves, which closed over him. When it was evening, and the huntsman did not return home, his wife became alarmed. She went out to seek him, and as he had often told her that he had to be on his guard against the snares16 of the nix, and dared not venture into the neighbourhood of the mill-pond, she already suspected what had happened. She hastened to the water, and when she found his hunting-pouch lying on the shore, she could no longer have any doubt of the misfortune. Lamenting17 her sorrow, and wringing18 her hands, she called on her beloved by name, but in vain. She hurried across to the other side of the pond, and called him anew; she reviled19 the nix with harsh words, but no answer followed. The surface of the water remained calm, only the crescent moon stared steadily20 back at her. The poor woman did not leave the pond. With hasty steps, she paced round and round it, without resting a moment, sometimes in silence, sometimes uttering a loud cry, sometimes softly sobbing21. At last her strength came to an end, she sank down to the ground and fell into a heavy sleep. Presently a dream took possession of her. She was anxiously climbing upwards22 between great masses of rock; thorns and briars caught her feet, the rain beat in her face, and the wind tossed her long hair about. When she had reached the summit, quite a different sight presented itself to her; the sky was blue, the air soft, the ground sloped gently downwards23, and on a green meadow, gay with flowers of every colour, stood a pretty cottage. She went up to it and opened the door; there sat an old woman with white hair, who beckoned24 to her kindly. At that very moment, the poor woman awoke, day had already dawned, and she at once resolved to act in accordance with her dream. She laboriously25 climbed the mountain; everything was exactly as she had seen it in the night. The old woman received her kindly, and pointed26 out a chair on which she might sit. “Thou must have met with a misfortune,” she said, “since thou hast sought out my lonely cottage.” With tears, the woman related what had befallen her. “Be comforted,” said the old woman, “I will help thee. Here is a golden comb for thee. Tarry till the full moon has risen, then go to the mill-pond, seat thyself on the shore, and comb thy long black hair with this comb. When thou hast done, lay it down on the bank, and thou wilt27 see what will happen.” The woman returned home, but the time till the full moon came, passed slowly. At last the shining disc appeared in the heavens, then she went out to the mill-pond, sat down and combed her long black hair with the golden comb, and when she had finished, she laid it down at the water’s edge. It was not long before there was a movement in the depths, a wave rose, rolled to the shore, and bore the comb away with it. In not more than the time necessary for the comb to sink to the bottom, the surface of the water parted, and the head of the huntsman arose. He did not speak, but looked at his wife with sorrowful glances. At the same instant, a second wave came rushing up, and covered the man’s head. All had vanished, the mill-pond lay peaceful as before, and nothing but the face of the full moon shone on it. Full of sorrow, the woman went back, but again the dream showed her the cottage of the old woman. Next morning she again set out and complained of her woes28 to the wise woman. The old woman gave her a golden flute29, and said, “Tarry till the full moon comes again, then take this flute; play a beautiful air on it, and when thou hast finished, lay it on the sand; then thou wilt see what will happen.” The wife did as the old woman told her. No sooner was the flute lying on the sand than there was a stirring in the depths, and a wave rushed up and bore the flute away with it. Immediately afterwards the water parted, and not only the head of the man, but half of his body also arose. He stretched out his arms longingly30 towards her, but a second wave came up, covered him, and drew him down again. “Alas, what does it profit me?” said the unhappy woman, “that I should see my beloved, only to lose him again!” Despair filled her heart anew, but the dream led her a third time to the house of the old woman. She set out, and the wise woman gave her a golden spinning-wheel, consoled her and said, “All is not yet fulfilled, tarry until the time of the full moon, then take the spinning-wheel, seat thyself on the shore, and spin the spool32 full, and when thou hast done that, place the spinning-wheel near the water, and thou wilt see what will happen.” The woman obeyed all she said exactly; as soon as the full moon showed itself, she carried the golden spinning-wheel to the shore, and span industriously33 until the flax came to an end, and the spool was quite filled with the threads. No sooner was the wheel standing34 on the shore than there was a more violent movement than before in the depths of the pond, and a mighty35 wave rushed up, and bore the wheel away with it. Immediately the head and the whole body of the man rose into the air, in a water-spout. He quickly sprang to the shore, caught his wife by the hand and fled. But they had scarcely gone a very little distance, when the whole pond rose with a frightful36 roar, and streamed out over the open country. The fugitives37 already saw death before their eyes, when the woman in her terror implored38 the help of the old woman, and in an instant they were transformed, she into a toad39, he into a frog. The flood which had overtaken them could not destroy them, but it tore them apart and carried them far away. When the water had dispersed40 and they both touched dry land again, they regained41 their human form, but neither knew where the other was; they found themselves among strange people, who did not know their native land. High mountains and deep valleys lay between them. In order to keep themselves alive, they were both obliged to tend sheep. For many long years they drove their flocks through field and forest and were full of sorrow and longing31. When spring had once more broken forth on the earth, they both went out one day with their flocks, and as chance would have it, they drew near each other. They met in a valley, but did not recognize each other; yet they rejoiced that they were no longer so lonely. Henceforth they each day drove their flocks to the same place; they did not speak much, but they felt comforted. One evening when the full moon was shining in the sky, and the sheep were already at rest, the shepherd pulled the flute out of his pocket, and played on it a beautiful but sorrowful air. When he had finished he saw that the shepherdess was weeping bitterly. “Why art thou weeping?” he asked. “Alas,” answered she, “thus shone the full moon when I played this air on the flute for the last time, and the head of my beloved rose out of the water.” He looked at her, and it seemed as if a veil fell from his eyes, and he recognized his dear wife, and when she looked at him, and the moon shone in his face she knew him also. They embraced and kissed each other, and no one need ask if they were happy.
收听单词发音 |
1
miller
|
|
| n.磨坊主 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
distress
|
|
| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
lighter
|
|
| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
rippling
|
|
| 起涟漪的，潺潺流水般声音的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
kindly
|
|
| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
formerly
|
|
| adv.从前，以前 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
descended
|
|
| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
thither
|
|
| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
tormented
|
|
| 饱受折磨的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
ascend
|
|
| vi.渐渐上升，升高；vt.攀登，登上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
apprenticed
|
|
| 学徒，徒弟( apprentice的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
maiden
|
|
| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
roe
|
|
| n.鱼卵；獐鹿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
ascended
|
|
| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
snares
|
|
| n.陷阱( snare的名词复数 )；圈套；诱人遭受失败（丢脸、损失等）的东西；诱惑物v.用罗网捕捉，诱陷，陷害( snare的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
lamenting
|
|
| adj.悲伤的，悲哀的v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
wringing
|
|
| 淋湿的，湿透的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
reviled
|
|
| v.辱骂，痛斥( revile的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
steadily
|
|
| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
sobbing
|
|
| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
upwards
|
|
| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
downwards
|
|
| adj./adv.向下的（地），下行的（地） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
beckoned
|
|
| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
laboriously
|
|
| adv.艰苦地；费力地；辛勤地；（文体等）佶屈聱牙地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
pointed
|
|
| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
wilt
|
|
| v.(使)植物凋谢或枯萎；(指人)疲倦，衰弱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
woes
|
|
| 困境( woe的名词复数 )； 悲伤； 我好苦哇； 某人就要倒霉 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
flute
|
|
| n.长笛；v.吹笛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
longingly
|
|
| adv. 渴望地 热望地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
longing
|
|
| n.（for）渴望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
spool
|
|
| n.（缠录音带等的）卷盘（轴）；v.把…绕在卷轴上 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
industriously
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
mighty
|
|
| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
frightful
|
|
| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
fugitives
|
|
| n.亡命者，逃命者( fugitive的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
implored
|
|
| 恳求或乞求（某人）( implore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
toad
|
|
| n.蟾蜍，癞蛤蟆 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
dispersed
|
|
| adj. 被驱散的, 被分散的, 散布的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
regained
|
|
| 复得( regain的过去式和过去分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |