The Nutcracker Read online

  “It all went just as the Court Astronomer had seen in the horoscope. One beardless boy in shoes after another bit the Krakatuk nut until his teeth and jaws were sore, without being able to help the Princess in the slightest, and as he was carried away, half fainting, by the dentists appointed to be in attendance, he sighed, ‘That was a hard nut to crack!’ But when the King, in mortal terror, had promised his daughter and his kingdom to whoever could break the spell, along came that fine and well-behaved young Drosselmeier, asking to be allowed to try. None of the others had pleased Princess Pirlipat as much as young Drosselmeier; she placed her little hands on her heart and sighed ardently, ‘Oh, if only he could be the one to bite the Krakatuk nut open and be my husband.’

  “When young Drosselmeier had greeted the King and Queen and Princess Pirlipat courteously, he received the Krakatuk nut from the hands of the Master of Court Ceremonies, took it between his teeth at once, pulled hard on his pigtail, and—crack, crack!—the nutshell crumbled to pieces. He neatly removed the fibres still clinging to the kernel and handed it to the Princess with a humble bow, closing his eyes and beginning to walk backwards. The Princess immediately consumed the kernel of the nut and all at once, wonderful to relate, she was no longer deformed. There stood an angelically beautiful girl with a face that might have been made of lily-white and rose-pink silk, bright azure eyes, and a wealth of curls like gold thread. Trumpets and drums joined in the loud rejoicing of the people. The King hopped on one leg, as he had done when Pirlipat was born, so did his whole court, and the Queen’s temples had to be dabbed with eau de cologne because she had fainted away with joy and delight. All the noise considerably discomposed young Drosselmeier, who had yet to complete his seven steps backwards, but he remained in control of himself and was just raising his right foot to take the seventh step when Mistress Mousie came up through the floorboards, squealing and squeaking horribly, so that Drosselmeier trod on her as he was about to put his foot down, and stumbled so badly that he almost fell.

  “Oh, what a misfortune! For suddenly the young man was as ugly as Princess Pirlipat had been before. His body had shrunk and could hardly carry the weight of his big, misshapen head with its large goggle eyes, and its wide mouth yawning horribly open. And instead of his pigtail he had a small wooden cape behind him, with which he worked his lower jaw.

  “The Clockmaker and the Astronomer were beside themselves with shock and horror. But they saw Mistress Mousie writhing on the floor and bleeding. Her malice had not gone unavenged, for young Drosselmeier had driven the sharp heel of his shoe so hard into her neck that she could not survive. But as Mistress Mousie was on the point of death she squeaked and squealed pitifully, ‘Oh Krakatuk, hard nut, say I, a nut of which I now must die—tee-hee, ha ha, Nutcracker fine, for my sad fate will soon be thine. My son with seven crowns, I say, will take your sweet young life away. I’ll be avenged—I say no more—farewell, life red in tooth and claw! Farewell, farewell, the grave I seek. Squeak, squeak, squeak—eek!’ With this cry Mistress Mousie died and was taken away by the Royal Stove Stoker.

  “No one had been bothering much about young Drosselmeier, but now the Princess reminded the King of his promise, and he immediately ordered the young hero to be brought before him. But when the unfortunate young man stepped forward in his misshapen form, the Princess covered her face with both hands and cried, ‘Oh, take that nasty Nutcracker away, take him away!’ At once the Lord Marshal took him by his little shoulders and threw him out of the door. The King, angry to think that anyone had tried to palm him off with a Nutcracker as his son-in-law, blamed everything on the bungling of the Clockmaker and the Astronomer, and banished them both from the royal residence for ever.

  “That had not been shown in the horoscope cast by the Astronomer in Nuremberg, but now nothing could stop him observing the stars again, and he claimed to read there that young Drosselmeier would do so well in his new position that despite his deformity he would be prince and then king. However, he could return to his old form only if the seven-headed son of Mistress Mousie, who had been born after the death of her other seven sons and who was now Mouse King, died by his hand, and if a lady were to love him in spite of his looks. And sure enough, it is said that young Drosselmeier had been seen in his father’s puppet theatre in Nuremberg at Christmas time, appearing in the character of a Nutcracker, yes, but also as a prince!

  “So that, children, is The Tale of the Hard Nut, and now you know why people so often say, when something is difficult, ‘That was a hard nut to crack!’, and how it came about that Nutcrackers are so ugly.”

  With these words the Councillor finished his story. Marie thought Princess Pirlipat was a nasty, ungrateful girl; Fritz, on the other hand, reassured her that if Nutcracker was a good fellow in all other ways he would soon make mincemeat of the Mouse King, and get his handsome face and figure back.

  UNCLE AND NEPHEW

  IF ANY OF MY HONOURED READERS or listeners have ever happened to cut themselves on broken glass, they will know for themselves how badly it hurts and how annoying it is that the cut takes so long to heal. Marie had spent almost a week in bed because she felt dizzy whenever she stood up. But at last she was better again, and could run about the sitting room as happily as ever. The glass-fronted cupboard was looking very pretty, mended and bright, with trees, flowers, houses and beautiful dolls inside it. Best of all, Marie saw her beloved Nutcracker standing on the second shelf and smiling at her, with his teeth back in place.

  Yet when she saw dear Nutcracker, and very glad she was to do so, she suddenly felt her heart sink as she recollected that all Godfather Drosselmeier had told her and Fritz had really been the story of Nutcracker and his quarrel with Mistress Mousie and her son. Now she knew that her Nutcracker could be none other than young Drosselmeier from Nuremberg, Godfather Drosselmeier’s charming nephew who, unfortunately, was under the spell cast by Mistress Mousie. Not for a moment during the story had Marie doubted that the ingenious Court Clockmaker at the court of Pirlipat’s father was really Councillor Drosselmeier himself. “But why didn’t your uncle help you, oh, why didn’t he help you?” wailed Marie, when in her mind’s eye she pictured more clearly than ever the battle that she had seen, and knew that it had been to win Nutcracker’s crown and kingdom. Hadn’t all the other toys obeyed him, and wasn’t it a fact that the Court Astronomer’s prophecy had come true, and young Nutcracker was king of the land of toys? When clever little Marie had worked it out, it also occurred to her that, as soon as she truly believed that Nutcracker and his vassals were alive, they really ought to come to life and move about. But it wasn’t like that, everything in the cupboard stood still, motionless, and Marie, far from abandoning her own conviction, put it down to the effects of the magic spell cast by Mistress Mousie and her seven-headed son.

  “All the same,” she said out loud to Nutcracker, “even if you still can’t move about or speak a word to me, dear Mr Drosselmeier, I know you understand me, and you know that I mean well by you. You can rely on my support when you need it. And at least I can ask your uncle to come to your aid with his skill when necessary.”

  Nutcracker stood still, never moving, but Marie thought she heard a tiny sigh from inside the glass-fronted cupboard, making the panes of glass ring barely audibly but very tunefully with a musical sound, and it was as if a voice like a little bell were singing, “Maria mine—my angel fine—I will be thine—Maria mine.” Marie felt a cold shiver run down her back, but it was strangely pleasant as well.

  Twilight had fallen, Doctor Stahlbaum came in with Godfather Drosselmeier, and before long Luise had set the tea table, and the family was sitting around it talking about all kinds of amusing things. Marie had quietly brought in her own little chair and was sitting at Godfather Drosselmeier’s feet. When all the others happened to fall silent, Marie looked intently into the Councillor’s face with her big blue eyes and said, “Godfather Drosselmeier, I know that my Nutcracker is your nephew, young Drosselmeier from Nuremberg. And n
ow he is a prince, or rather a king, it turned out just as your friend the Astronomer predicted, but I also know that he is at war with Mistress Mousie’s son, the ugly Mouse King. Why don’t you help him?” Once again Marie told him all about the course of the battle as she had seen it, although her story was often interrupted by the loud laughter of her mother and Luise. Only Fritz and Drosselmeier were grave-faced.

  “Wherever does the child get all these wild notions?” asked Doctor Stahlbaum.

  “Oh, she has a lively imagination,” replied Marie’s mother. “Her ideas are really just dreams she had in her fever.”

  “And they’re not true,” said Fritz. “My red-coated hussars aren’t such cowards! Upon my soul, wouldn’t I just tell them off if they were!”

  However, Godfather Drosselmeier took little Marie on his lap, with a strange smile, and said very gently, “Why, dear Marie is luckier than I or any of you. Like Pirlipat, you are a princess born, Marie, and you rule a bright and beautiful kingdom. But you will have much to suffer if you take poor deformed Nutcracker’s side, for the Mouse King follows him everywhere he goes. I am not the one who is able to save him, only you can do it. So be constant and true.”

  Neither Marie nor anyone else knew what Drosselmeier meant by that, and it seemed so odd to Doctor Stahlbaum that he felt the Councillor’s pulse and said, “My dear friend, you have severe congestion of the brain. I’ll write you a prescription for it.”

  Only Doctor Stahlbaum’s wife shook her head thoughtfully, and said in quiet tones, “I can guess what the Councillor means, but I can’t put it into clear words.”

  THE VICTORY

  NOT LONG AFTER THESE EVENTS, in the middle of the moonlit night, Marie was woken by a strange rattling sound that seemed to come from a corner of her room. It was as if little pebbles were being thrown and rolled about, and there was a horrible squeaking and squealing as well.

  “Oh, the mice, the mice are coming back!” cried Marie in fright, and she was going to wake her mother, but she was unable to utter a sound and couldn’t move hand or foot when she saw the Mouse King making his way through a hole in the wall, and finally scurrying around the room with his eyes and his crowns flashing. Then he took a great leap up to the little table that stood beside Marie’s bed. “Tee-hee-hee, tee-hee-hee—your sweet sugar drops you must give to me,” he said. “And give me your marzipan, little girl, too—or Nutcracker’s dead, for I’ll bite him in two!”

  So squealed the Mouse King, grinding and chattering his teeth in a very nasty way, and then he jumped down again and ran away through the mouse hole. Marie was so terrified by this dreadful apparition that next morning she looked very pale and was extremely upset, and could hardly say a word. Again and again she wanted to tell her mother or Luise what had happened, or at least Fritz, but she wondered if any of them would believe her, and thought they might just laugh at her instead.

  But then she realised that if she wanted to save Nutcracker, she must sacrifice her sugar drops and marzipan. So next evening she took all the sugar drops and marzipan she had and put the sweets down beside the edge of the cupboard. In the morning Doctor Stahlbaum said, “I don’t know how we come to have mice in our sitting room all of a sudden, but my poor dear Marie, I’m afraid they have eaten up all your sweets.” And so they had. There was some stuffed marzipan that the greedy Mouse King had not liked, but he had nibbled it with his sharp teeth so that it had to be thrown away. Marie didn’t mind about the sweets, and deep inside her she was glad, because now she thought her Nutcracker was saved.

  But imagine how she felt when she heard a squealing and a squeaking close to her ear the following night. The Mouse King was back, with his eyes flashing even more horribly than before, and he was whistling through his teeth with an even more dreadful sound. “Give me your sugar dollies, your tragacanth figures too, or Nutcracker’s dead, for I’ll bite him in two.” And with these words the terrible Mouse King scuttled away once again.

  Marie was very anxious. Next morning she went to the cupboard and looked sadly at her little figures made of sugar and sweet tragacanth paste. And her sadness was justified, for Marie, my attentive little listener, you can hardly imagine all the pretty little figures that Marie Stahlbaum possessed made of sugar and that sweet paste. As well as a charming shepherd with his shepherdess, she had a whole flock of little milk-white sheep grazing, and a sheepdog running briskly around, and there were two postmen carrying letters, and four very pretty couples, nicely dressed young men with beautifully dressed girls swinging on a Russian swing. Behind several dancers stood Farmer Caraway with the Maid of Orleans, not that Marie thought much of them, but in one corner there was a little rosy-cheeked child, Marie’s favourite, and tears flowed from her eyes. “Oh,” she cried, turning to Nutcracker, “what wouldn’t I do to save you, dear Mr Drosselmeier, but it’s hard, very hard!”

  Meanwhile Nutcracker himself looked so sad that Marie, who also felt as if she saw the Mouse King with all his seven pairs of jaws open ready to swallow up the unhappy young man, decided to sacrifice everything for him. So that evening she put all her sugar dollies at the front of the cupboard, as she had done before. She kissed the shepherd, the shepherdess, the little lambs, and last of all she took her darling, the little rosy-cheeked sugar-paste child, out of the corner, but she put him right at the back of the dollies. Farmer Caraway and the Maid of Orleans had to stand in the front row.

  “Oh, this is really too bad,” said Doctor Stahlbaum next morning. “There must be a big mouse living in the glass-fronted cupboard, because all poor Marie’s sugar dollies are nibbled and bitten.”

  Marie couldn’t help shedding tears, but she was soon smiling again, because she thought—what does that matter if Nutcracker is safe?

  That evening, when her mother was telling Godfather Drosselmeier about all the trouble that a mouse in the glass-fronted cupboard was giving the children, Doctor Stahlbaum said, “It’s really too bad if we can’t get rid of the terrible mouse doing so much damage in the cupboard.”

  “Oh,” said Fritz cheerfully, “the baker downstairs has a very good grey cat called Consul. Why don’t I bring him up? He’ll soon deal with that mouse, he’ll bite its head off, even if it’s Mistress Mousie herself or her son the Mouse King.”

  “Yes,” added Doctor Stahlbaum, “and then the cat will race around on all the tables and chairs, knocking over cups and glasses and doing all sorts of other damage.”

  “No, he won’t,” replied Fritz, “Consul the baker’s cat is a very clever fellow, and I only wish I could walk about the rooftops as elegantly as he does.”

  “Oh, no cats in here by night, please,” begged Luise, who couldn’t stand cats.

  “Well, really,” said Doctor Stahlbaum, “really, I think Fritz is right, but meanwhile we could set a trap. Don’t we have a mousetrap somewhere?”

  “Godfather Drosselmeier can make us a good one,” said Fritz. “After all, he invented mousetraps.” Everyone laughed, and when Mrs Stahlbaum said no, there was no mousetrap in the house, Councillor Drosselmeier announced that he did indeed own several, and sure enough he had an excellent mousetrap delivered to the house within the hour. Fritz and Marie now vividly remembered their godfather’s Tale of the Hard Nut. When Dore the cook was grilling bacon, Marie trembled and shook, and with her mind full of the fairy tale and the wonderful things that happened in it, she said to Dore, whom she knew so well, “Oh, Your Majesty, do beware of Mistress Mousie and her family,” speaking to her just as if she were the Queen. As for Fritz, he had drawn his sword and said, “Let them all come, and I’ll be bound to catch one of them with this.” But all was quiet both under and on top of the stove. When the Councillor had tied the bit of bacon to a piece of thin string and quietly, quietly put the trap down by the glass-fronted cupboard, Fritz cried, “Godfather Drosselmeier, please make sure that the Mouse King doesn’t play any of his tricks!”

  Oh, how anxious poor Marie was that night! She felt something icy pattering up and down her
arm, and something rough and disgusting touched her cheek, and there was a squealing and squeaking in her ear—and she saw the terrible Mouse King sitting on her shoulder, with his seven pairs of blood-red jaws open and slobbering at her, and his teeth grinding and chattering. He hissed at the poor child, who was rigid with fear and horror, “Hiss hiss, beware, beware, beware … won’t go in the trap to feast in there—won’t be caught, not me, hiss hiss! I’ll have your picture books, miss, and your pretty dress too, or I’ll never leave you! Just so that you know, for Nutcracker must go, bitten in two he’ll be, hohoho, hee-hee! Squeak!”

  Now Marie was full of grief and sorrow—she looked very pale and upset in the morning when her mother said, “That bad mouse hasn’t been caught yet.” And believing that Marie was mourning for her sweets, as well as being afraid of the mouse, her mother added, “But don’t worry, dear child, we’ll soon drive the naughty mouse away. If traps don’t help, then Fritz can bring up his friend the grey cat Consul!”

  No sooner was Marie alone in the sitting room than she went up to the glass-fronted cupboard and said to Nutcracker, sobbing, “Oh, dear good Mr Drosselmeier, what can I do for you, poor unhappy girl that I am? If I give up my picture books and even my lovely new dress that the Christ Child brought me for Christmas, for the horrible Mouse King to bite them all to bits, won’t he go on asking for more and more until I have nothing left at all? Then he may even want to bite me up myself. Oh, poor me, what am I to do now?”