Chapter 25
Part 25
4 min read · 887 words
“Dance shalt thou!” said he. “Dance in thy red shoes till thou art pale
and cold! Till thy skin shrivels up and thou art a skeleton! Dance shalt
thou from door to door, and where proud, vain children dwell, thou shalt
knock, that they may hear thee and tremble! Dance shalt thou--!”
“Mercy!” cried Karen. But she did not hear the angel's reply, for the
shoes carried her through the gate into the fields, across roads and
bridges, and she must keep ever dancing.
One morning she danced past a door which she well knew. Within sounded
a psalm; a coffin, decked with flowers, was borne forth. Then she knew
that the old lady was dead, and felt that she was abandoned by all, and
condemned by the angel of God.
She danced, and she was forced to dance through the gloomy night. The
shoes carried her over stack and stone; she was torn till she bled; she
danced over the heath till she came to a little house. Here, she knew,
dwelt the executioner; and she tapped with her fingers at the window,
and said, “Come out! Come out! I cannot come in, for I am forced to
dance!”
And the executioner said, “Thou dost not know who I am, I fancy? I
strike bad people's heads off; and I hear that my axe rings!”
“Don't strike my head off!” said Karen. “Then I can't repent of my sins!
But strike off my feet in the red shoes!”
And then she confessed her entire sin, and the executioner struck off
her feet with the red shoes, but the shoes danced away with the little
feet across the field into the deep wood.
And he carved out little wooden feet for her, and crutches, taught
her the psalm criminals always sing; and she kissed the hand which had
wielded the axe, and went over the heath.
“Now I have suffered enough for the red shoes!” said she. “Now I will
go into the church that people may see me!” And she hastened towards the
church door: but when she was near it, the red shoes danced before her,
and she was terrified, and turned round. The whole week she was unhappy,
and wept many bitter tears; but when Sunday returned, she said, “Well,
now I have suffered and struggled enough! I really believe I am as good
as many a one who sits in the church, and holds her head so high!”
And away she went boldly; but she had not got farther than the
churchyard gate before she saw the red shoes dancing before her; and she
was frightened, and turned back, and repented of her sin from her heart.
And she went to the parsonage, and begged that they would take her
into service; she would be very industrious, she said, and would do
everything she could; she did not care about the wages, only she wished
to have a home, and be with good people. And the clergyman's wife was
sorry for her and took her into service; and she was industrious and
thoughtful. She sat still and listened when the clergyman read the Bible
in the evenings. All the children thought a great deal of her; but when
they spoke of dress, and grandeur, and beauty, she shook her head.
The following Sunday, when the family was going to church, they asked
her whether she would not go with them; but she glanced sorrowfully,
with tears in her eyes, at her crutches. The family went to hear the
word of God; but she went alone into her little chamber; there was only
room for a bed and chair to stand in it; and here she sat down with her
Prayer-Book; and whilst she read with a pious mind, the wind bore
the strains of the organ towards her, and she raised her tearful
countenance, and said, “O God, help me!”
And the sun shone so clearly, and straight before her stood the angel
of God in white garments, the same she had seen that night at the church
door; but he no longer carried the sharp sword, but in its stead a
splendid green spray, full of roses. And he touched the ceiling with the
spray, and the ceiling rose so high, and where he had touched it there
gleamed a golden star. And he touched the walls, and they widened out,
and she saw the organ which was playing; she saw the old pictures of the
preachers and the preachers' wives. The congregation sat in cushioned
seats, and sang out of their Prayer-Books. For the church itself had
come to the poor girl in her narrow chamber, or else she had come into
the church. She sat in the pew with the clergyman's family, and when
they had ended the psalm and looked up, they nodded and said, “It is
right that thou art come!”
“It was through mercy!” she said.
And the organ pealed, and the children's voices in the choir sounded so
sweet and soft! The clear sunshine streamed so warmly through the window
into the pew where Karen sat! Her heart was so full of sunshine, peace,
and joy, that it broke. Her soul flew on the sunshine to God, and there
no one asked after the RED SHOES.
Hans Christian Andersen — text from Project Gutenberg (eBook #1597)
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