The Tales of Hans Christian Andersen

Anne Lisbeth - Anne Lisbeth

1859

Anne Lisbeth was like milk and blood: young, gay, and lovely to look at. Her eyes were bright and her teeth shiny white. She stepped lightly in the dance; she was thoughtless and frivolous. And what did all this beauty and lightheartedness gain her? "That disgusting little brat!" True, he was no beauty. An unwanted child can be got rid of, and this one was given to the ditch digger's wife to take care of, for she asked the smallest payment. Then Anne Lisbeth moved up to the count's castle; there she sat dressed in her Sunday best every day of the week. Not a wind was allowed to blow on her, nor was an angry word ever spoken to her, because that might harm her! She was the wet nurse of the infant count; he had been born at the same time as her own child. Oh, how she loved this noble little baby! He was as delicate as a prince and as handsome as an angel! Her own child? Well, he was down in the ditch digger's hut, where the tempers boiled more often than the pots, and hard words stood on the menu every day. Often no one was home. The little boy cried, but unheard tears can't touch anyone. He would cry himself to sleep; and sleep is marvelous, for while you are asleep you can't feel either hunger or thirst. As time passes the weeds shoot up, as people say; and Anne Lisbeth's boy did grow, though he was always smaller than the other boys his age. He belonged in the ditch digger's family; after all, they had been paid to take him in. Anne Lisbeth was rid of him; she moved to the city and married well. In her home it was always nice and warm, and should she walk outside, then she had both hat and coat to put on. She never went to the ditch digger's hut, it was much too far away. Besides, the boy was theirs. He had too hearty an appetite, they claimed, so they set him to work to earn his keep. He could take care of the neighbor's cow and see to it that it didn't stray into the wheat fields. Anne Lisbeth var som Melk og Blod, ung og fornøiet, deilig at see paa, Tænderne skinnede saa hvide, Øinene saa klare; Foden var let i Dandsen og Sindet endnu mere let! hvad kom der ud af det? - "Den lede Unge!" - ja, deilig var han ikke! han blev sat ud til Grøftegraverens Kone, Anne Lisbeth kom paa det grevelige Slot, sad i stadselig Stue med Klæder af Silke og Fløiel; ikke en Vind turde blæse paa hende, Ingen sige hende et haardt Ord, for det havde hun Skade af og det turde hun ikke taale. Hun ammede det grevelige Barn, det var fiint som en Prinds, deiligt som en Engel, hvor elskede hun dette Barn; hendes eget, ja det var i Huus, i Grøftegraverens Huus, hvor ikke Gryden kogte over, men Munden kogte over, og oftest var der Ingen hjemme, Drengen græd, men hvad Ingen hører det Ingen rører, han græd sig isøvn og i Søvnen føler man ikke til Sult og Tørst, Søvnen er saadan en god Opfindelse; i Aaringer - ja, som Tiden gaaer, skyder Ukrud op, siger man, Anne Lisbeths Dreng skød op, og dog var han sat i Væxten, sagde de; men heelt var han voxet ind i Familien her, de havde faaet Penge derfor, Anne Lisbeth var ham aldeles qvit, hun var Kjøbstadmadame, havde det luunt og godt inde og Hat paa, gik hun ud, men hun gik aldrig til Grøftegraverens, det var saa langt fra Staden og hun havde der heller ikke Noget at gjøre, Drengen var deres og tære sin Kost kunde han, sagde de, Gavn for Føden skulde han gjøre, og saa passede han Mads Jensens røde Ko, han kunde nok røgte og tage sig Noget for.
The watchdog of the castle stood outside in the sunshine and barked at anyone who came by, but if it rained it had a doghouse that was warm and dry. Anne Lisbeth's boy sat in the ditch when the sun shone and whittled a stick. One spring day he found three wild strawberry plants. He was sure they would have berries and the thought made him happy, but the flowers fell off and no strawberries came. If it rained he had to stay where he was, for he was tending the cow; he was wet to the skin and he had to wait for the wind to dry him. Whenever he came to the farm, the servant girls and the other hired hands played tricks on him and hit him. "You are ugly, disgusting!" they cried. He was used to hearing those words. Lænkehunden paa Herregaardens Blegdam sidder i Solskinnet stolt oven paa sit Huus og gjøer af hver, der kommer forbi, i Regnveiret kryber den indenfor, ligger tørt og luunt. Anne Lisbeths Dreng sad paa Grøften i Solskin, snittede paa en Tøirepæl, i Foraaret vidste han tre Jordbærplanter i Blomster, de vilde nok sætte Bær, det var hans gladeste Tanke, men der kom ingen Bær. Han sad i Regn og Rusk, blev vaad til Skindet, den skarpe Vind tørrede siden Tøiet paa Kroppen; kom han til Gaarden blev han puffet og stødt, han var led og grim, sagde Piger og Karle, det var han vandt til - aldrig elsket!
Well, what happened to Anne Lisbeth's boy? What do you suppose? What does happen to those whose lot is never to be loved? Hvordan gik det Anne Lisbeths Dreng? Hvorledes skulde det gaae ham? det var hans Lod: "aldrig elsket."
Since the land had no use for him, he took to the sea. He sailed on a broken-down old tub, stood at the tiller while the captain drank. Dirty and disgusting he looked, always cold and always hungry; one would think he had never got enough to eat: and that was true, he hadn't. Fra Landjorden blev han kastet overbord, gik tilsøes paa en ussel Skude, sad ved Roret, mens Skipperen drak; skiden og led var han, forfrossen og graadig, man skulde troe, at han aldrig havde været mæt og det havde han heller ikke.
It was late in the year. The weather was raw and cold, the wind cut right through his clothes. It was blowing hard and they had only one sail up. It was a rotten little sloop, with only two men as crew. To be more accurate, only one and a half: the skipper and his boy. The clouds had made twilight of the day, but now it was growing really dark and bitterly cold it was. The skipper poured himself a drink to get some warmth inside him. The glass he drank from was old; its foot had been broken off, and the skipper had made a new one of a piece of wood that was painted blue. If one drink helped, then two ought to help twice as much, thought the skipper, and poured himself another. The ditch digger's boy, as he was called--though in the church register it was written that he was Anne Lisbeth's--held onto the tiller with hands that were dirty from pitch and filth. He was ugly, his hair stuck out in all directions, and he was cowed and had squinty eyes. Det var seent paa Aaret, raat, vaadt, blæsende Veir, Vinden skar koldt gjennem de tykke Klæder, især til Søes, og der gik for eet Seil en ussel Skude med kun to Mand ombord, ja kun een og en halv kan man ogsaa sige, det var Skipperen og hans Dreng. Tusmørke havde det været den hele Dag, nu blev det sortere, det var en bidende Kulde. Skipperen tog sig en Dram, der kunde varme indvendig! Flasken var fremme og Glasset med, det var heelt for oven, men Foden knækket af, og havde istedetfor den en tilsnittet blaamalet Træklods at staae paa. -En Dram gjorde godt, to gjorde bedre, meente Skipperen. Drengen sad ved Roret, det, han holdt paa med sine haarde, tjærede Hænder, grim var han, Haaret stridt, forkuet og forkrympet var han, det var Grøftegraverens Dreng, i Kirkebogen hed han Anne Lisbeths.
The wind blew from the stern, the sail filled out. The wind caught it fully and the old ship raced ahead. The top of a wave broke over the railing and drenched the boy. The wind was raw and wet. Something happened! What was it? What burst? The boat lurched and turned broadside on to the waves. With a loud crack, the mast broke, and sail and rigging came failing down. The boy at the tiller screamed: "Jesus Christ save me!" The boat had hit a rock and now it sank like an old shoe in the village pond. It went down with mice and men, as the saying goes. There were plenty of mice on board, but of men only one and a half: the skipper and the ditch digger's boy. No one saw it happen, except the screaming gulls and the fishes; and they didn't see it, really, for they fled as the water roared in through the hole in the hull. The boat sank in about ten feet of water, just deep enough to hide both ship and crew. Gone and forgotten they were. Only the glass with the blue-painted wooden foot remained afloat; it drifted toward shore and was finally broken in the surf. It had done good service and it had been loved, which was more than Anne Lisbeth's boy ever had been. Only in heaven are there no souls that can say, "I have never been loved." Vinden skar paa sin Viis, Skuden paa sin! Seilet bovnede, Vinden havde fat, der var flyvende Fart - raat, vaadt rundt omkring, men mere endnu kunde der komme - Stop! - hvad var det! hvad stødte, hvad sprang, hvad greb i Skuden? den dreiede sig om! kom der et Skybrud, løftede sig en Braadsø? - Drengen ved Roret skreg høit: "I Jesu Navn!" Skuden var stødt paa en mægtig Steen i Havbunden og sank som en gammel Sko i Gadekjæret; sank med Mand og Muus som man siger; og der var Muus, men kun halvanden Mand: Skipperen og Grøftegraverens Dreng. Ingen saae det, uden de skrigende Maager og Fiskene dernede, ja og de saae det ikke endda saa rigtigt, thi de fore forskrækkede tilside, da Vandet buldrede ind i Skuden, der sank; knap en Favn under Vandet stod den; gjemte vare de to; gjemte, glemte! kun Glasset med den blaamalede Træklods til Fod sank ikke, Træklodsen holdt det oppe; Glasset drev for at knækkes over og skylles op paa Stranden, - hvor og naar? Ja det var jo ikke noget videre! nu havde det tjent ud og det havde været elsket; det havde ikke Anne Lisbeths Dreng! dog i Himmeriges Rige vil ingen Sjæl kunde sige meer: "aldrig elsket!"
Anne Lisbeth had lived for many years in the town and was used to being spoken to respectfully. She liked to boast about the time when she had lived in a castle, driven in a carriage, and conversed with baronesses and countesses. She would fall into ecstasy about her little count, who had looked like an angel and who had loved her as much as she had loved him. He had kissed her and put his arms about her neck. Why, he was all her joy, and half her life! Now he was almost a grownup: fourteen years old and as clever and learned as anyone and handsomer than everyone. Of this she was certain, although she had not seen him since she had carried him in her arms; it was, after all, quite far to the castle, almost a journey. Anne Lisbeth var i Kjøbstaden og det allerede i mange Aar, blev kaldt Madam og kneisede især op, naar hun talte om gamle Minder, den grevelige Tid, da hun kjørte i Karreet og kunde tale med Grevinder og Baronesser. Hendes søde Grevebarn var den yndigste Guds Engel, den kjærligste Sjæl, han havde holdt af hende og hun havde holdt af ham. De havde kysset hinanden og klappet hinanden, han var hendes Glæde, hendes halve Liv. Nu var han stor, var fjorten Aar, havde Lærdom og Deilighed; hun havde ikke seet ham siden hun bar ham paa sine Arme; ikke havde hun i mange Aaringer været paa det grevelige Slot, det var en heel Reise derhen.
"But I must go there soon," said Anne Lisbeth. "I must see my joy once more, my sweet little count. I am sure he longs for me too, and still cares for me and remembers the time when he put his little angelic arms around my neck and whispered, 'Anne Lis.' Oh! that sounded as lovely as a violin. Yes, I must go and visit him!" "Jeg maa tage det overtvært engang!" sagde Anne Lisbeth, "jeg maa til min Herlighed, til mit søde Grevebarn! ja, han længes vist ogsaa efter mig, tænker paa mig, holder af mig, som da han hang med sine Engle-Arme om min Hals og sagde: ""An-Lis!"" det var ligesom en Violin! ja jeg maa tage det overtvært og see ham igjen!"
She drove with a freight wagon as far as the village near the castle; the rest of the way she had to walk. The castle looked as large and impressive as it had the first time she had seen it. The park around it had not changed either; but all the servants were strangers, not one of them remembered an "Anne Lisbeth." They did not seem to appreciate her importance, but surely the countess would tell them who she was--and so would her own little count, whom she was at long last to see. Hun kjørte med Kalvevogn, hun gik paa sin Fod, hun kom til det grevelige Slot, det var stort og skinnende som altid før, Haven som for derudenfra, men Folkene i Huset vare alle Fremmede, ikke Een af dem kjendte Noget til Anne Lisbeth, de vidste ikke hvad hun havde betydet her engang, det vilde nok Grevinden sige dem, ogsaa hendes egen Dreng! hvor længtes hun efter ham.
Anne Lisbeth had to wait a long time--and time is always long when you have to wait. Just before dinner she was called in to the countess, who spoke very kindly to her. She would be able to see her little sweet boy after dinner; she would be called in again then. Nu var Anne Lisbeth her; længe maatte hun vente og Ventetid er lang! Før Herskabet gik til Bords blev hun kaldt ind til Grevinden, og meget godt tiltalt. Sin søde Dreng skulde hun see efter Bordet, saa blev hun kaldt ind igjen!
How tall and thin he had become, but he had the same eyes and the same angelic mouth. He looked at her but didn't say a word. Maybe he had not recognized her. He turned as if he were going to leave, and Anne Lisbeth grabbed his hand and pressed it to her mouth. "That is enough," he said, and left the room.--He whom all her loving thoughts had dwelled upon; he whom she had loved above all else; he who had been all her earthly pride. Hvor var han bleven stor, lang og tynd, men de yndige Øine havde han og den Engle-Mund! han saae paa hende, men han sagde ikke et Ord. Han kjendte hende vist ikke. Han vendte sig om, vilde gaae igjen, men da tog hun hans Haand, trykkede den op til sin Mund! "Naa, det er godt!" sagde han, og saa gik han ud af Stuen, han, hendes Kjærligheds Tanke, han, som hun havde elsket og elskede høiest, han, hendes jordiske Stolthed.
Anne Lisbeth walked back along the road toward the village. She was so unhappy. He had acted toward her as though she were a stranger. He had not given her a thought or said a kind word, although she once had carried him in her arms through long nights; and since that time, not one day had passed without her thinking about him. Anne Lisbeth gik udenfor Slottet paa den aabne Landevei, hun var saa trist; han havde været saa fremmed imod hende, ikke havt Tanke for hende, ikke Ord, han, som hun engang ved Nat og Dag havde baaret, og altid bar i Tanken.
A big black raven landed on the road in front of her and screeched again and again. "My God!" she cried. "What bird of ill omen are you?" Der fløi en stor sort Ravn ned paa Veien foran hende, skreg, og skreg igjen, "Eia!" sagde hun, "hvad er Du for en Ulykkensfugl!"
She was passing the ditch digger's house, and his wife was standing in the doorway. Anne Lisbeth stopped to talk to her. Hun kom forbi Grøftegraverens Huus, der stod Konen i Døren og saa talte de sammen.
"You have done well," said the ditch digger's wife. "You look healthy and plump. One can see you have prospered." "Du er vel ved Magt!" sagde Grøftegraverens Kone, "Du er tyk og fed! Dig gaaer det godt!"
"Oh yes, I can't complain," answered Anne Lisbeth. "Saamænd!" sagde Anne Lisbeth.
"The boat went down. Both Lars the skipper and the boy drowned. Well, that was the end of it. I had hoped that the boy might help me in my old age with a few coppers. He won't cost you any more money, Anne Lisbeth." "Fartøiet med dem er da forgaaet!" sagde Grøftegraverens Kone. "Lars Skipper og Drengen ere druknede begge To. Nu har de Ende paa det. Jeg havde dog troet, at Drengen engang skulde kunne have hjulpet mig med en Skilling, Dig kostede han nu ikke meer, Anne Lisbeth!"
"Are they drowned!" exclaimed Anne Lisbeth, and then they talked no more about it. Anne Lisbeth was still feeling miserable because her little count whom she loved so much had not even talked to her. It had cost her money to take that journey and what had she gained from it? Not much, but that she was not going to tell the ditch digger's wife. After all, she did not want her to think that Anne Lisbeth was not welcome in the castle any more. At that moment the raven screeched again. "Ere de druknede!" sagde Anne Lisbeth, og saa talte de ikke mere om den Ting. Anne Lisbeth var saa bedrøvet, fordi hendes Grevebarn ikke gad tale til hende, hun, som elskede ham og havde taget den lange Vei for at komme her, det havde ogsaa kostet Penge, Fornøielsen, hun havde faaet, var ikke stor, men det sagde hun her ikke et Ord om, hun vilde ikke lette sit Sind ved at tale om det til Grøftegraverens Kone, hun kunde jo troe, at hun ikke meer var anseet hos Grevens. Da skreg igjen Ravnen hen over hende.
"You black monster!" shouted Anne Lisbeth. "Why are you trying to scare me?" "Det sorte Spectakel," sagde Anne Lisbeth, "gjør mig nok forskrækket i Dag!"
She had brought some coffee and chicory with her; it was an act of kindness to give them to the ditch digger's wife so that she could make some coffee. While the ditch digger's wife was in the kitchen, Anne Lisbeth sat down in a chair and fell asleep. She had a strange dream in which appeared a person she had never seen in a dream before. She dreamed about her son: the child who had starved and frozen in this very hut, and now lay at the bottom of the sea--only God knows where. She dreamed that she was sitting right where she was and that the ditch digger's wife had gone out to make coffee--even in her dream she could smell it brewing. Suddenly a boy, as beautiful as the young count, stood in the door of the hut and said to her: Hun havde bragt med Kaffebønner og Cichorie, det vilde være en Velgjerning mod Grøftegraverens Kone at give hende det til at lave en Skaal Kaffe, Anne Lisbeth kunde faae sig en Kop med, og Grøftegraverens Kone gik hen at koge den, og Anne Lisbeth satte sig paa en Stol og der faldt hun i Søvn; da drømte hun om Den, hun aldrig før havde drømt om, det var underligt nok: hun drømte om sit eget Barn, der her i Huset havde sultet og skraalet, drevet for Lud og koldt Vand, og nu laae i det dybe Hav, Vor Herre vidste hvor. Hun drømte, at hun sad hvor hun sad, og at Grøftegraverens Kone var ude at lave Kaffe, hun kunde lugte Bønnerne, og der stod i Døren saadan en deilig Een, han var ligesaa kjøn som Grevebarnet, og den Lille sagde:
"Now the end of the world is coming, hold onto me, for in spite of everything you are my mother. You have an angel in heaven to guard you, hold onto me!" "Nu forgaaer Verden! hold Dig fast ved mig, for Du er dog min Moder! Du har en Engel i Himmeriges Rige! hold fast ved mig!"
He grabbed her by the sleeve, and at that moment she heard a great noise; and Anne Lisbeth guessed that that was the end of the world. The angel lifted her up, but something heavy held onto her shoulders and her legs. It felt as though a hundred women had grabbed hold of her and they were shouting: "If you are to be saved we have a right to be saved too. Hang on! Hang on!" And they did hold onto her, and that was too much for Anne Lisbeth's sleeve. "Ritch," it said, and was torn to pieces; and she fell back down on the ground. So real and so frightening was the dream that she woke and almost fell off the chair. Afterward she felt so dizzy and confused that she couldn't remember exactly what it was she had dreamed, only that it had been unpleasant. Og saa greb han efter hende, men der lød saadan et Rabalder, det var nok Verden der gik fra hinanden, og Englen løftede sig og holdt hende fast i hendes Særkeærme, saa fast, syntes hun, at hun lettedes fra Jorden, men der hang sig Noget saa tungt ved hendes Been, det laae hen over hendes Ryg, det var ligesom om hundrede Qvinder klyngede sig fast, og de sagde: "Skal Du frelses, maae vi ogsaa! hæng paa! hæng paa!" og saa hang de Allesammen paa; det var for Meget, "Ritsch-ratsch!" sagde det, Ærmet flængedes og Anne Lisbeth faldt forfærdeligt, saa at hun vaagnede ved det - og var lige ved at styrte om med Stolen, hun sad paa, hun var saa fortumlet i Hovedet, at hun slet ikke kunde huske hvad hun havde drømt, men noget Ilde havde det været.
The coffee was served and drunk. The two women talked and then it was time for Anne Lisbeth to leave. She walked to the nearest village, where she was to meet the freightman and drive in his wagon back to the town where she lived. Unfortunately his wagon had broken and he would not be able to leave before the following evening. Anne Lisbeth speculated upon the cost of a night's lodging at the inn and then decided that, if she did not walk along the road but followed the beach instead, she would save many a mile and could be home by morning. Saa blev Kaffen drukken, saa blev der talt, og saa gik Anne Lisbeth til den nærmeste By, hvor hun skulde træffe Fragtmanden og endnu denne Aften og Nat kjøre med ham til sit Hjemsted; men da hun kom til Fragtmanden, sagde han, at de ikke kunde komme afsted før den næste Dags Aften, hun tænkte da over, hvad det vilde koste hende at blive, tænkte over Veilængden og betænkte, at gik hun langs Stranden og ikke af Kjøreveien, da var det næsten to Miil kortere; det var jo høit Veir og nok Fuldmaane, og saa vilde Anne Lisbeth gaae, næste Dag kunde hun være hjemme.
The sun had set, but the church bells seemed still to be ringing--no, it wasn't bells, it was the big frogs down in the lake that were croaking. But at last they grew silent too. And now the whole world was still, not a bird was heard; they had gone to sleep, and the owl, who is usually up at this time, was not home. So still was the mirror of the sea that not even the tiniest ripples lapped on the shore. The only sound that Anne Lisbeth heard was that of her own footsteps in the sand. No splash from leaping fish broke the silence, everything under the water, both living and dead, was mute. Solen var nede, Aftenklokkerne klang endnu, - nei, det var ikke Klokkerne, det var Peder Oxes Frøer, der koaxede i Kærene. Nu taug de, Alt var stille, ikke en Fugl hørte man, hver af dem var til Ro, og Uglen var nok ikke hjemme; lydløst var der ved Skov og Strand, hvor hun gik, hun hørte sine egne Fodtrin i Sandet, Havet havde ikke Skvulpen, Alt derude i det dybe Vand var lydløst; stumme vare de Alle dernede, de Levende og de Døde.
Anne Lisbeth did not think about anything while she walked, but that did not mean that no thoughts were in her mind. They lie asleep within our heads and never leave us, old thoughts that we have had before, as well as new ones that we have still to encounter. Anne Lisbeth gik og tænkte ikke paa nogen Ting, som man siger, hun var borte fra sine Tanker, men Tankerne vare ikke borte fra hende, de ere aldrig borte fra os, de ligge bare i en Døs, baade de levendegjorte Tanker, der have lagt sig, og de, som endnu ikke have rørt sig. Men Tankerne komme nok frem, de kunne røre sig i Hjertet, røre sig i vort Hoved eller falde ned over os!
"Virtue is its own reward," so it is written; and it is also written, "The wages of sin is death." So much has been written, so much has been said, and one does not remember it all. So it was with Anne Lisbeth, but one can be made to remember! "God Gjerning har sin Velsignelsens Frugt!" staaer der skrevet; "i Synden er Død!" staaer der ogsaa skrevet! Meget staaer skrevet, Meget er sagt, man veed det ikke, man husker ikke, saadan gik det Anne Lisbeth; men det kan gaae op for Een, det kan komme!
Within our hearts are all virtues and vices--in yours and in mine! They lie there like grains, so small that they are invisible; then, from outside a sun ray or an evil hand touches them. You turn a corner, whether to the right or to the left may be of supreme importance. And the little seed grows till it suddenly bursts and enters your blood. From then on it directs where you will go. When you are walking along drowsily, such fearful thoughts do not come to your mind, but that does not mean that they are not there. Anne Lisbeth was tired. She felt as if she were about to doze, but her thoughts were aroused. From one midsummer to the next, our hearts have a whole year to account for: How many sinful thoughts have we had? How many words have we spoken against God, our neighbors, and our own conscience? But we forget, we do not think about them, and neither did Anne Lisbeth. She had not broken any laws of the land; she knew that others considered her a decent, upright woman. As she walked along the beach she saw something lying in the sand. What was it? She stopped. It was a man's hat that the waves had thrown up on land. She wondered when and from what ship it had fallen overboard. She took a few steps toward it. But what was that lying over there? She got very frightened, but there was nothing to be frightened of. What had scared her was merely a large stone covered by broken reeds and seaweed. It looked like the body of a human being, but it was only a stone and some seaweed. Yet her fear stayed with her as she walked on; and now so many thoughts came to her. She remembered all the old tales and superstitions she had heard, when she was a child, about the ghosts of those who had drowned. How these specters attacked the lonesome wanderer and demanded that they carry them to the churchyard and bury them there. "Hang on, hang on!" the ghosts had cried in the stories she had heard. And as Anne Lisbeth repeated these words to herself, she suddenly remembered the dream she had had in the ditch digger's cottage. So real did it become to her that again she felt the weight of the other mothers clinging to her, while they screamed: "Hang on! Hang on!" And she remembered how the world had come to an end, and how the sleeves of her blouse had ripped, so that her child, who on the Day of Judgment had tried to save her, could no longer hold onto her. Her own child, the one she had borne but never loved, and had never even given a thought to. Now that child rested on the bottom of the sea, and his ghost could come and demand of her, "Bury me in Christian soil. Hang on! Hang on!" As these thoughts passed through her mind, fear bit her heels and she hurried on. Dread like a cold hand squeezed her heart so that it hurt. She looked out over the sea. A mist came rolling in; it obscured and changed the shapes of bushes and trees. She looked up at the moon. It appeared as a pale, pale disk. Her body felt heavy, as if she were carrying a great weight. "Hang on! hang on!" the words echoed in her mind. Again she turned to look at the moon, and now its white face seemed very close to her and the fog hung like a winding sheet from her shoulders. "Hang on, hang on, bring me to my grave!" She expected to hear those words any moment. There was a sound! What was it? It could not be frogs or the cry of a raven or a crow. A hollow voice said, "Bury me, bury me." She had heard it plainly. It was the voice of her child, the one who now rested on the bottom of the sea. He would never find peace until he was carried to the churchyard and there buried in hallowed ground. She would dig his grave. She walked in the direction where she thought a church stood, and now it seemed to her that her body felt lighter, that the burden was gone. Hurriedly she turned and walked instead toward her home, but then the weight returned. "Hang on, hang on!" The cry sounded again like the deep voice of some monstrous frog or frightened bird. "Bury me, bury me." Alle Laster, alle Dyder ligge i vort Hjerte! i dit, i mit! de ligge som smaa ikke synlige Korn; saa kommer der udenfra en Solstraale, en ond Haands Berørelse, Du dreier om Hjørnet, til Høire eller Venstre, ja, det kan afgjøre det, og det lille Frøkorn rystes, det svulmer derved, det sprænges, og gyder sine Safter i alt dit Blod og saa er Du paa Farten. Det er ængstende Tanker, dem har man ikke naar man gaaer i en Døs, men de ere i Røre: Anne Lisbeth gik i en Døs, Tankerne vare i Røre! Fra Kyndelmisse til Kyndelmisse har Hjertet Meget paa sit Regnebræt, det har Aars Regnskab, Meget er glemt, Synd i Ord og Tanker mod Gud, vor Næste og mod vor egen Samvittighed; vi tænke ikke derover, det gjorde heller ikke Anne Lisbeth, hun havde intet Ondt gjort mod Lands Lov og Ret, hun var meget godt anseet, skikkelig og hæderlig, vidste hun. Og som hun nu gik ved Stranden, - hvad var det der laae? Hun standsede; hvad var der skyllet op? en gammel Mandshat laae der. Hvor mon den var gaaet overbord. Hun gik nærmere, blev staaende og saae paa den, - eia! hvad laae der! hun blev ganske forskrækket; men der var ikke Noget at blive forskrækket over, det var Tang og Siv, der laae snoet hen over en stor aflang Steen, det saae ud som et heelt Menneske, det var kun Siv og Tang, men forskrækket blev hun og idet hun gik videre, kom hende i Tanke saa Meget, hun havde hørt som Barn, al den Overtro om "Strandvarslet", Spøgelset af den Ubegravne, der laae skyllet op paa den øde Strandbred. "Strandvaskeren": den døde Krop, den gjorde Intet, men dens Spøgelse, Strandvarslet fulgte den eensomme Vandrer, hang sig fast og forlangte at bæres til Kirkegaarden, for at begraves i christen Jord. "Hæng paa! hæng paa!" sagde det; og som Anne Lisbeth gjentog for sig selv disse Ord, gik med Eet op for hende hele hendes Drøm, saa lyslevende, hvorledes Mødrene havde klynget sig til hende med dette Udraab: "hæng paa! hæng paa!" hvorledes Verden sank, hendes Særkeærme revnede og hun faldt fra sit Barn, der i Dommens Stund vilde have holdt hende oppe. Hendes Barn, hendes eget kjødelige Barn, det, hun aldrig havde elsket, ja, ikke engang tænkt paa, dette Barn var nu paa Havsens Bund, det kunde som Strandvarsel komme og raabe: "hæng paa! hæng paa! bring mig i christen Jord!" og idet hun tænkte det, prikkede Angesten hende i Hælene, saa at hun gik raskere; Frygten kom som en kold klam Haand og lagde sig i hendes Hjertekule, saa hun var lige ved at faae ondt, og i det hun nu saae ud over Havet, blev der tykkere og tættere; en tung Taage skød sig frem, lagde sig om Busk og Træer, de fik et underligt Udseende derved. Hun vendte sig for at see efter Maanen, der stod bagved hende, den var som en bleg Skive uden Straaler, det var som Noget havde lagt sig tungt paa alle hendes Lemmer: hæng paa! hæng paa! tænkte hun, og da hun igjen vendte sig om og saae paa Maanen, syntes hun, at dens hvide Ansigt var lige tæt ved hende, og Taagen hang som et Lin ned over hendes Skuldre: "hæng paa! bring mig i christen Jord!" vilde hun høre og hørte ogsaa en Lyd, saa huul, saa sær, den kom ikke fra Frøerne i Kæret, ikke fra Ravne eller Krager, for dem saae hun jo ikke, "begrav mig! begrav mig!" klang det lydeligt! ja, det var Strandvarslet af hendes Barn, der laae paa Havsens Bund, det fik ikke Fred før det blev baaret til Kirkegaarden og Graven gravet i christen Jord. Derhen vilde hun gaae, der vilde hun grave, hun gik i den Retning hvor Kirken laae, og da syntes hun at Byrden blev lettere, den forsvandt, og hun vilde saa igjen vende om og naae ad den korteste Vei hjem, men da knugede det hende igjen: hæng paa! hæng paa! det lød som Frøernes Qvæk, det lød som en klynkende Fugl, det lød saa grangiveligt "begrav mig! begrav mig!"
The fog was cold and wet, and her face and hands were cold and damp from fear. The world outside was pressing on her and she herself had become an empty void in which thoughts she had never had before were free to fly. Taagen var kold og klam, hendes Haand og Ansigt var koldt og klamt af Rædsel! udenom hende klemte det, indeni hende blev der et uendeligt Rum for Tanker, hun før aldrig havde fornummet.
In the north, in one warm spring night, the whole beech forest can put forth leaves, and when the sun rises it stands in all its tender green glory. In one second within us, when our conscience awakes, all the evil, all the sins committed throughout a lifetime, can unfold before us. At this moment no excuses, no mitigating circumstances, help; our deeds bear witness against us and our thoughts are formed into words that shout the truth to the world. We are horrified at what we see, at the evil that has been inside us, which we have not even tried to destroy--the harm we have done in arrogance and thoughtlessness. Inside our hearts are all virtues and all vices; but vices thrive in the poorest soil. I een Foraarsnat her i Norden kan Bøgeskoven springe ud, staae i sin unge, lyse Pragt ved Dagens Solskin, i eet eneste Secund kan indeni os hæve og udfolde sig den Sæd af Synd i Tanke, Ord og Gjerning, der i vort førte Liv er nedlagt; den løfter og udfolder sig i eet eneste Secund, naar Samvittigheden vaagner; og Vor Herre vækker den, naar vi mindst vente det; da er der Intet at undskylde, Gjerningen staaer og vidner, Tankerne faae Ord og Ordene klinge lydeligt ud over Verden. Vi forfærdes over, hvad vi have baaret i os og ikke qvalt, forfærdes over, hvad vi i Overmod og Tankeløshed have strøet ud. Hjertet har i Gjemme alle Dyder, men ogsaa alle Laster, og de kunne trives selv i den goldeste Grund.
What we have said in words, Anne Lisbeth felt, and her feelings so overpowered her that she fell to the ground and crawled on all fours like an animal. "Bury me, bury me," whispered the voice, and gladly would she have buried herself, if that would have meant the end of all memories. It was her day of reckoning, and it brought her only fear and dread. All the superstitions she knew mixed as heat and icy coldness with her blood, and tales she had not remembered for years came back to her. As soundlessly as the clouds that pass by the pale moon, a specter rushed by her. Four dark horses with fire coming from their nostrils drew a carriage in which sat the evil count who, more than a hundred years before, had lived and ruled in this district. Now at midnight he drove from the churchyard to his castle and back again. He was not pale as ghosts usually are described. No, his face was as black as burned-out coals. He nodded to Anne Lisbeth and waved. "Hang on, hang on!" he shouted. "Then you can again drive in a count's carriage and forget your own child!" Anne Lisbeth rummede i Tankerne, hvad vi her have sagt i Ord, hun var overvældet deraf, hun sank til Jorden, krøb henad den et Stykke. "Begrav mig! begrav mig!" sagde det, og helst havde hun begravet sig selv, dersom Graven var en evig Forglemmelse af Alt. - Det var Alvorens Vækkelses-Stund med Gru og Angest. Overtroen kom Hedt og Koldt i hendes Blod, saa Meget, hun aldrig gad tale om, kom i Tanke. Lydløs, som Skyens Skygge i det klare Maaneskin, foer forbi hende et Syn, hun havde hørt om det før. Tæt forbi hende joge fire fnysende Heste, Ilden skinnede dem ud af Øine og Næseboer, de trak en gloende Karreet, i den sad den onde Herremand, der for meer end et hundred Aar siden havde huseret her i Egnen. Hver Midnat, hed det, foer han ind i sin Gaard og vendte strax igjen, han var ikke hvid som man siger den Døde er, nei, han var sort som et Kul, et udbrændt Kul. Han nikkede til Anne Lisbeth og vinkede: "hæng paa! hæng paa! saa kan Du igjen kjøre i grevelig Vogn og glemme dit Barn!"
She ran and at last she reached the churchyard. The black crosses on the graves and the black ravens that lived in the church tower became one. All the crosses became ravens that cried and screamed at her. She remembered that unnatural mothers are called "raven mothers," for that bird is known, to its shame, for not taking good care of its young. Would she become a black bird when she died: a raven? Mere iilsom skyndte hun sig afsted og hun naaede Kirkegaarden; men de sorte Kors og de sorte Ravne blandede sig for hendes Øine, Ravnene skreg som Ravnen i Dag havde skreget, dog nu forstod hun hvad det var, den sagde: "jeg er Ravnemoder! jeg er Ravnemoder!" sagde hver af dem, og Anne Lisbeth vidste, at Navnet ogsaa gjaldt hende, hun vilde maaskee blive forvandlet til saadan en sort Fugl og ideligt maatte skrige, hvad den skreg, fik hun ikke Graven gravet.
She threw herself down on the ground and with her fingers dug in the hard earth until blood ran from her nails. And all the time she heard the voice saying, Og hun kastede sig ned paa Jorden, og hun gravede med sine Hænder en Grav i den haarde Jord, saa at Blodet sprang hende ud af Fingrene.
"Bury me, bury me!" She feared that the cock would crow and the eastern sky grow red before she had finished her work; and then all would be lost. The cock crowed and the sun rose. The grave was but half finished! A cold hand caressed her face and a voice sighed, "Only half a grave." It was the spirit of her son, who now had to return to the bottom of the sea. Anne Lisbeth sank to the ground and all thoughts and feelings left her. "Begrav mig! begrav mig!" lød det ideligt, hun frygtede for Hanegal og den første røde Stribe i Øst, thi kom de før hendes Arbeide var endt, da var hun fortabt. Og Hanen galede og i Øst lyste det - - Graven var kun halv gravet, en isnende Haand gled hen over hendes Hoved og Ansigt ned til Hjertestedet. "Halv Grav kun!" sukkede det og svævede bort, ned paa Havsens Bund, ja, det var Strandvarslet; Anne Lisbeth sank overvældet og betagen til Jorden, hun havde ikke Tanke eller Fornemmelse.
It was almost noon when she awoke. Two young men had found her. She was not lying in the churchyard but on the beach. In front of her was the big hole she had dug. She had cut her hands on a broken glass, the stem of which had been forced down into a little square piece of wood that was painted blue. Anne Lisbeth was sick. Her conscience had dealt the cards of superstition, and she had read them. She now believed that she had only half a soul; the ghost of her son had taken the other half with him, down to the bottom of the sea. She would not be able to enter heaven unless she could get back that part of her soul that lay beneath the deep waters of the ocean. Anne Lisbeth was brought home, but she was no longer the woman she had been. Her thoughts were like threads, all tangled up in knots; only one idea was clear to her: that she must find again the ghost of her child, carry him to the churchyard, and bury him there, so that she could win back her soul. Det var lys Dag, da hun kom til sig selv, to Karle løftede hende i Veiret; hun laae ikke paa Kirkegaarden, men nede paa Strandbredden, og der havde hun gravet foran sig et dybt Hul i Sandet og skaaret sine Fingre tilblods paa et sønderbrudt Glas, hvis skarpe Stilk stak i en blaamalet Træfod. Anne Lisbeth var syg; Samvittigheden havde blandet Overtroens Kort, lagt dem op og faaet ud deraf, at nu havde hun kun en halv Sjæl, den anden Halvdeel havde hendes Barn taget med sig ned paa Havsens Bund; aldrig vilde hun kunne flyve op mod Himmeriges Naade, før hun havde igjen den anden halve Deel, der holdtes paa i det dybe Vand; Anne Lisbeth kom til sit Hjem, hun var ikke det Menneske meer, hun før havde været; hendes Tanker vare spegede som Garnet, der speges, een Traad kun havde hun red, den, at bære Strandvarslet til Kirkegaarden, grave det en Grav og derved vinde sin hele Sjæl tilbage.
Many a night she was missed at home, but they knew where they could find her: down on the beach, waiting for the ghost of her son to come. A year went by and then one night she disappeared, and this time they could not find her; all day they searched in vain. Mangen Nat blev hun savnet i sit Hjem og altid fandt man hende da ved Stranden, hvor hun ventede paa Strandvarslet; saaledes hengik et heelt Aar, da forsvandt hun igjen en Nat, men var ikke at finde; hele den følgende Dag gik hen med forgjæves Søgen.
Toward evening the bell ringer who had come to ring the bells for vespers saw her. In front of the altar lay Anne Lisbeth. She had been there since morning. She had no strength left but the light in her eyes was one of joy. The last of the sun's rays fell on her face and gave it the pink color of health. The sun rays were reflected in the brass clasps of the old Bible that lay upon the altar. It had been opened upon the page of the prophet Joel, where it is written: "Rend your heart and not your garments, and turn unto the Lord your God." This, they said, was quite by chance, as so much is in this world. Henimod Aften, da Degnen kom ind i Kirken for at ringe til Solnedgang, saae han foran Altret laae Anne Lisbeth; her havde hun været fra den tidlige Morgenstund, hendes Kræfter vare næsten borte, men hendes Øine lyste, hendes Ansigt havde en rødmende Glands; de sidste Solstraaler skinnede ind paa hende, straalede hen over Alterbordet paa de blanke Spænder af Bibelen, der laae opslaaet, med de Ord af Propheten Joel: "Sønderriver Eders Hjerter og ikke Eders Klæder, vender om til Herren!" - "det var nu saaledes tilfældigt!" sagde man, som saa Meget er tilfældigt!
In Anne Lisbeth's sun-filled face one could see that she had found peace. She whispered that she was well, that she was not afraid any more. The ghost had come at last. Her son had been with her and said: "You dug only a half a grave for me, but for a whole year and a day you have buried me in your heart, and that is the right place for a mother to keep her child." Then he had given her back the half of her soul that he had taken with him and led her up here to the church. I Anne Lisbeths Ansigt, som Solen belyste, var der at læse om Fred og Naade. Hun var saa vel! sagde hun. Nu havde hun forvundet Sit! i Nat havde Strandvarslet, hendes eget Barn, været hos hende, det havde sagt: Du gravede kun halv Grav for mig, men Du har nu Aar og Dag begravet mig heelt i dit Hjerte, og der gjemmer en Moder sit Barn bedst! og saa havde det givet hende igjen hendes tabte halve Sjæl og ledet hende herind i Kirken.
"Now I am in God's house," she said, "and here one is blessed." "Nu er jeg i Guds Huus!" sagde hun, "og i det er man salig!"
When the sun finally went down, Anne Lisbeth's soul went up to where fear is unknown and all struggles cease. And Anne Lisbeth had striven. Da Solen var heelt nede, var Anne Lisbeths Sjæl heelt oppe, hvor der er ingen Frygt, naar den her er udstridt, og udstridt havde Anne Lisbeth.

Copyright Anchor Books Doubleday
Hans Christian Andersen:
The Complete Fairy Tales and Stories

Translated from Danish by Erik Christian Haugaard

Copyright:
The Hans Christian Andersen Project