The Nutcracker Read online

  As Marie was weeping and wailing, she noticed that overnight Nutcracker had somehow got a large bloodstain on his neck. Since she had found out that her Nutcracker was really young Drosselmeier the Councillor’s nephew, Marie had stopped carrying him about and hugging and kissing him. She felt rather shy even about touching him too much. But now she took him out of the cupboard and began rubbing the bloodstain on his neck away with her handkerchief. How odd—she suddenly felt little Nutcracker grow warm in her hand, and he began to move. She quickly put him back on the shelf, his little mouth began working back and forth, and laboriously Nutcracker spoke these words: “Oh, dear Mademoiselle Stahlbaum—my excellent friend to whom I owe so much! No, you shall not sacrifice a single picture book or your Christmas dress for me! Get me a sword—get me a sword and I’ll see to the rest, whatever he …” But here Nutcracker ran out of words, and his eyes, only a moment ago full of deep melancholy, became fixed again. Marie felt no horror at all, but jumped for joy to think that now she knew how to save Nutcracker without making any more painful sacrifices.

  But how was she to get Nutcracker a sword? Marie decided to ask Fritz for advice, and that evening, when their parents had gone out and they were sitting in the sitting room by themselves near the glass-fronted cupboard, she told him all that had happened to her, the whole tale of Nutcracker and the Mouse King, and how she now knew the way to save Nutcracker. Nothing had upset Fritz more than the idea that, according to Marie’s account of it, his hussars had conducted themselves so poorly in the battle, and he asked her again if it had really been like that. When Marie had assured him that she was telling the truth he went up to the cupboard, made a fiery speech to his hussars and then, to punish them for their selfishness and cowardice, he cut the insignia off their caps one by one, and forbade them to play the Hussars’ March for a whole year. Once he had finished disciplining his troops, he turned to Marie and said, “As for the sword, I can help Nutcracker. Yesterday I pensioned off an old colonel from the cuirassiers, and being retired he won’t need his beautiful sharp sword any more.” The aforesaid colonel was now enjoying the retirement that Fritz had granted him in the far corner of the third shelf. He was brought out, and the children took off his silver sword, which was indeed a handsome weapon, and hung it on Nutcracker.

  Marie couldn’t sleep for fear and horror that night, and around midnight she thought she heard strange running, clashing noises in the sitting room. All at once there was a “Squeak!” “The Mouse King—the Mouse King!” cried Marie, and she jumped out of bed in terror. But all was quiet, and soon there was a soft, soft knock on the door and a little voice was heard. “Honoured Mademoiselle Stahlbaum, have no fear—I bring good news!” Marie recognised young Drosselmeier’s voice, she threw on her skirt and quickly opened the door. There stood Nutcracker with the bloodstained sword in his right hand and a little wax candle in his left hand. As soon as he saw Marie, he went down on one knee and said to her, “You, lady, and you alone steeled me to show the courage of a knight, giving my arm the strength to do battle with the bold, overweening villain who dared to mock you. The treacherous Mouse King is defeated, and he lies wallowing in his own blood! Dear lady, pray do not scorn to accept this token of victory from the hand of your knight, who will be faithful to you unto death!”

  So saying, Nutcracker stripped the Mouse King’s seven golden crowns off his left arm, over which he had neatly slipped them, and gave them to Marie, who accepted them with delight. Nutcracker stood up and went on as follows: “Dearest Mademoiselle Stahlbaum, now that I have overcome my enemy I could show you wonderful things if you would be kind enough to follow me a little way! Oh, do so, pray do so, my dear Mademoiselle!”

  THE KINGDOM OF TOYS

  I IMAGINE THAT NOT ONE OF YOU, children, would have hesitated for a moment to follow that honest and good-natured Nutcracker, who had never in his life entertained an unkind thought. Marie was all the more inclined to do so because she knew what a claim she had on his gratitude, and was sure he would be as good as his word and show her many marvels.

  So she said, “I will happily go with you, Mr Drosselmeier, but it mustn’t be far and it mustn’t take too long, because I haven’t been to sleep at all yet tonight.”

  “In that case,” replied Nutcracker, “I will choose the nearest although not the easiest way.” And he went ahead, with Marie following him, until he stopped outside the large old wardrobe in the corridor. To her surprise, Marie saw that the doors of the wardrobe, which were usually kept locked, stood wide open, and she could clearly see the fox-fur coat that her father wore when he went on a journey hanging right at the front. Nutcracker climbed very nimbly up the wooden frame of the wardrobe and its carved decorations, until he could take hold of the large tassel that, fastened to a stout piece of string, hung down the back of the fox fur. As soon as Nutcracker gave the tassel a good pull a very pretty cedar-wood staircase came down through the fur sleeve of the coat. “Just climb up, dear lady,” cried Nutcracker.

  Marie did as he said, but as soon as she had climbed up through the sleeve to the collar of the coat and looked out at the top of it, a blinding light met her eyes, and all of a sudden she was standing in a wonderfully fragrant meadow, with millions of sparks that glittered like jewels rising from the air.

  “We’re in Sugar-Candy Meadow,” said Nutcracker, “but we’ll be going through that gate in a moment.” And only now, looking up, did Marie see the beautiful gateway not far away from them in the meadow. It seemed to be built of white, brown and raisin-coloured marble, but when Marie came closer she saw that it was made of sugared almonds and raisins baked together, and consequently, as Nutcracker told her, the gate through which they would pass was called Almond and Raisin Gate, although common people called it, very improperly, Student-Fodder Gate. On a gallery above this gate and apparently made of barley sugar, six little monkeys in pink doublets were playing the finest Turkish janissary music ever heard, so that Marie hardly noticed that she was walking on and on over coloured and marbled tiles, which in fact were nothing but finely worked slabs of boiled sugar. Soon the sweetest of scents wafted towards them from a wonderful little wood opening up on both sides. There was such a gleaming and sparkling in the foliage that you could clearly see gold and silver fruits hanging from brightly coloured stems, and the trunks and branches of the trees were adorned with ribbons and bunches of flowers, like happy brides and bridegrooms and their cheerful wedding guests. And when the scent of orange blossom wafted like a gentle breeze, the branches and leaves rustled, and thin, shiny strips of metal foil crinkled and crackled in the air, making a sound like cheerful music, while the sparkling little lights hopped and danced up and down.

  “Oh, how lovely it is here!” cried Marie happily, enchanted by the sight.

  “We are in Christmas Tree Wood, dear lady,” said Nutcracker.

  “I would love to spend a little longer here,” Marie went on. “It’s so beautiful!”

  Nutcracker clapped his hands, and immediately along came several little shepherds and shepherdesses, huntsmen and huntswomen, who looked as tender and white as if they were made of pure sugar. Marie had not noticed them before, although they had been walking about in the wood. They brought with them a lovely golden armchair, put a white liquorice cushion in it, and courteously invited Marie to sit down. As soon as she was seated, the shepherds and shepherdesses danced a pretty ballet, accompanied by the huntsmen blowing music on their horns, and then they all disappeared into the bushes.

  “Forgive us,” said Nutcracker, “forgive us, dear Mademoiselle Stahlbaum, for the inadequacies of the dance, but the dancers were all from our company of puppets on strings, and they can only perform the same steps over and over again, and the huntsmen also have their reasons for blowing their horns so slowly and sleepily. It’s because a basket made of sugar hangs directly above their noses on the Christmas tree, but just a little too high for them to reach it! Shall we walk for a little in the wood?”

  “Oh, it w
as all extremely pretty, and I enjoyed it very much!” said Marie as Nutcracker went ahead, and she stood up and followed him. They walked along the bank of a whispering, babbling brook from which all the delightful aromas that filled the whole wood seemed to rise.

  “This is Orange Brook,” said Nutcracker, in answer to her question, “but apart from its delicious fragrance it can’t compete in size and beauty with the Lemonade River that, like this brook, flows into the Sea of Almond Milk.”

  Sure enough, Marie soon heard a louder splashing and rushing, and saw the broad torrent of Lemonade River winding its way proudly in pale amber waves past bushes that shone like glowing green gems. Wonderfully fresh, cool, invigorating air rose from the beautiful water. Not far away a great expanse of darker yellow water moved slowly and sluggishly, but giving off a wonderfully sweet fragrance, and pretty children sat on the shore, angling for fat little fish and eating them as soon as they were caught. On coming closer, Marie saw that these fish looked like filbert nuts. Some way off lay a dear little village where the streams of water, houses, church, parsonage, barns and all were of a dark brown colour, but with golden roofs, and many of the walls were as beautifully decorated as if candied citron peel and almonds had been set into them,

  “This is Gingerbread Town,” said Nutcracker, “which lies by the Honey River, and the people who live here are very good-looking, but usually extremely grumpy because they suffer terribly from toothache, so let’s steer clear of the place.”

  At that moment Marie saw a little town of translucent houses of different colours, and it was a very pretty sight. Nutcracker went straight towards it, and now Marie heard a cheerful noise, and saw thousands of charming little people investigating and unloading the contents of carts on their way to market. What they brought out looked like coloured paper and chocolate bars. “This is Candyton,” said Nutcracker, “and deliveries from Paperland and the Chocolate King have just arrived. The houses of poor Candyton were under great threat recently from Admiral Mosquito’s army, so the inhabitants are covering their houses with the gifts sent from Paperland, and putting up entrenchments built with the excellently made bars that the Chocolate King has sent them. But dear Mademoiselle Stahlbaum, we can’t linger in all the little towns and villages of this country—let’s be off to the capital city!”

  Nutcracker hurried on ahead, and Marie followed, full of curiosity. Before long a wonderful scent of roses spread through the air, and everything seemed to be bathed in a rosy glow as the blooms breathed out their fragrance. Marie saw that the rosy light came from the reflection of a stretch of gleaming pink water that splashed and rushed in little waves of silvery pink rippling on ahead of them and making a wonderfully tuneful melody. On this delightful expanse of water, now spreading out further and further like a great lake, swam magnificent silvery-white swans with golden collars round their necks, singing the prettiest of songs as if in competition, while little diamond fish emerged from the lake of rosewater and dived down again in a merry dance.

  “Oh,” cried Marie in delight, “this is the lake that Godfather Drosselmeier once made me, he really did! And I myself am the girl, beside it, and the dear swans will come and caress me.”

  Nutcracker smiled at this with more derision than Marie had ever seen in his face before, and then he said, “My uncle could never do a thing like that. It is you yourself, dear Mademoiselle Stahlbaum, who brought this into being, but let’s not worry about that. We’ll cross Rosewater Lake to the capital city.”

  THE CAPITAL CITY

  NUTCRACKER CLAPPED his little hands again, and Rosewater Lake played louder music, the waves rose higher, and Marie saw a boat in the form of a seashell coming towards them from the distance. It was made of brightly coloured gemstones sparkling like the sun, and drawn by two dolphins with golden scales. Twelve dear little Moors in caps and kilts made of bright hummingbird feathers jumped ashore and carried first Marie and then Nutcracker gently through the shallows to the boat, which immediately moved away again. Marie thought it was lovely to skim over the water in the shell-shaped boat, with the scent of roses wafting and the rosewater ripples flowing around her. The two dolphins with their golden scales raised their noses and sent jets of crystal water shooting high into the air, and as they fell in flickering, sparkling arcs it was as if two lovely, silvery voices were singing: “Who swims, who swims on the rosy lake? We swim there for the fairy’s sake. Little midges, little fish, here we swim at the fairy’s wish. Swim, swans, swim, swim to the water’s rim. Golden birds ever singing, little ripples ever ringing, fragrant breezes ever blowing, water, water ever flowing, carry us safely to the shore, sing and ring for evermore!”

  But the twelve little Moors who had jumped into the back of the shell-shaped boat did not seem to like the song sung by the dolphins’ jets of water, and shook their sunshades so hard that the date-palm leaves of which they were made rustled and crackled, and at the same time they stamped their feet in a strange rhythm and sang, “Clap and clip and clop and clup, on and on and on and up—we twelve Moors will sing this song, sing it loud and sing it long. Fish go away, swans go away, we can sing our song all day, clap and clip and clop and clup, on and on and on and up!”

  “The Moors are comical folk,” said Nutcracker, rather embarrassed, “but they’ll stir the whole lake up too much for my liking.”

  Sure enough, the sound of wonderful voices singing music to confuse the senses soon arose, seeming to float in the lake and hover in the air, but Marie took no notice of them. Instead she looked at the fragrant rosy waves, from every one of which a charming girl’s lovely face looked back at her.

  “Oh, look!” she cried happily, clapping her hands. “Look, dear Mr Drosselmeier! I see Princess Pirlipat down there smiling at me so prettily. Do please look, dear Mr Drosselmeier!”

  But Nutcracker sighed almost sadly and said, “My dear Mademoiselle Stahlbaum, that’s not Princess Pirlipat but you, no one but you. Your own lovely face is smiling back at you prettily from every rosy wave.”

  Then Marie quickly put her head back and closed her eyes tightly, feeling ashamed of herself. At the same moment she was lifted out of the shell-shaped boat by the twelve Moors and carried ashore. She found herself in a little grove that was almost more beautiful than Christmas Tree Wood, everything in it shone and sparkled, and she admired the fruits hanging from all the trees, strangely coloured and wonderfully fragrant.

  “We are in Fruit Preserves Grove,” said Nutcracker, “and the capital city is over there.”

  And what do you think Marie saw now? How can I even begin, children, to describe the beauty and wonder of the city that now appeared before her eyes, built on a green and flowery land? Not only were the walls and towers of the most wonderful colours, but everything about the structure of the buildings was in-comparable, you couldn’t have found its like on earth. For instead of roofs the houses had delicately made crowns, and the towers were wreathed in garlands of the most bright and beautiful leaves that you ever could see. When they went through the gate, which looked as if it were made of macaroons and candied fruits, silver soldiers presented arms, and a little man in a brocade dressing gown threw his arms around Nutcracker with the words, “Welcome, dear Prince, welcome to Candyburg!”

  Marie was not a little surprised to see that such a distinguished-looking man recognised young Drosselmeier as a prince. But now she heard so many delightful little voices all talking at once, with such laughter and rejoicing, such singing and playing, that she could think of nothing else, and immediately asked Nutcracker what all this meant.

  “Oh, dear Mademoiselle Stahlbaum,” replied Nutcracker, “this is nothing special. Candyburg is a happy city where many people live, and it’s like this here every day. Do please come further in.”

  No sooner had they taken a few steps than they were in the great marketplace, and a fine sight it was. All the houses had filigree sugar decoration, gallery above gallery towering up, a tall cake like a tree covered with sugar icing stood in
the middle of the square as if it were an obelisk, and four fountains played, sending jets of barley water, lemonade, and other delicious sweet drinks up into the air, while cream collected in the basins of the fountains, tempting you to spoon it up. But prettiest of all were the dear little people crowded together in their thousands, rejoicing and laughing and joking and singing. It was they who were making that happy noise that Marie had heard in the distance. Then there were finely dressed ladies and gentlemen, Armenians and Greeks, Jews and Tyroleans, officers and soldiers, priests and shepherds and clowns, in short all the different kinds of people to be found in the world. The noise was louder in one corner of the square, people scattered, and the Grand Mogul came by, carried in a palanquin and accompanied by ninety-three of the great personages of his realm and seven hundred slaves. But it so happened that in another corner the Fishermen’s Guild, five hundred strong, was holding its festive procession, and it was unfortunate that the Sultan of Turkey also came riding over the marketplace just then with three thousand janissaries, which upset the great procession of the Interrupted Sacrifice as it made for the cake tree playing music and singing, “All hail, thou mighty Sun!” What a pushing and shoving and squealing and general milling around there was!

  And soon there were cries of dismay, for one of the fishermen had knocked the head off a Brahmin in the confusion, and a clown had nearly run down the Grand Mogul. The noise grew wilder and wilder, and people were already coming to blows and beginning to fight, when the man in the brocade dressing gown who had greeted Nutcracker as a prince at the gate climbed up the cake tree and, after ringing a bell with a high, clear sound, cried out three times in a loud voice, “Confectioner! Confectioner! Confectioner!”

  The turmoil immediately died down, they all picked themselves up as best they could, and when the entangled processions had disentangled themselves again, the dust had been brushed off the Grand Mogul, and the Brahmin’s head had been stuck back on, happy voices struck up again as before.