But she was lost in the Danube, instantly and completely; only little waves were yet whispering and sobbing around the boat, and they could almost be heard to say, "Oh, woe, woe! Ah, remain true! Oh, woe!" But Huldbrand, in a passion of burning tears, threw himself upon the deck of the bark; and a deep swoon soon wrapped the wretched man in a blessed forgetfulness of misery.
Shall we call it a good or an evil thing, that our mourning has no long duration?
I mean that deep mourning which comes from the very well-springs of our being, which so becomes one with the lost objects of our love that we hardly realize their loss, while our grief devotes itself religiously to the honouring of their image until we reach that bourne which they have already reached! Truly all good men observe in a degree this religious devotion; but yet it soon ceases to be that first deep grief.

Other and new images throng in, until, to our sorrow, we experience the vanity of all earthly things.

Therefore I must say: Alas, that our mourning should be of such short duration! The lord of Ringstetten experienced this; but whether for his good, we shall discover in the sequel of this history.

At first he could do nothing but weep--weep as bitterly as the poor gentle Undine had wept when he snatched out of her hand that brilliant ornament, with which she so kindly wished to make amends for Bertalda's loss.

And then he stretched his hand out, as she had done, and wept again like her, with renewed violence.