The fresh light of morning woke the young married pair:  but Huldbrand lay lost in silent reflection.  Whenever, during the night, he had fallen asleep, strange and horrible dreams of spectres had disturbed him; and these shapes, grinning at him by stealth, strove to disguise themselves as beautiful females; and from beautiful females they all at once assumed the appearance of dragons.  And when he started up, aroused by the intrusion of these hideous forms, the moonlight shone pale and cold before the windows without.  He looked affrighted at Undine, in whose arms he had fallen asleep:  and she was reposing in unaltered beauty and sweetness beside him.  Then pressing her rosy lips with a light kiss, he again fell into a slumber, only to be awakened by new terrors.

When fully awake, he had thought over this connection.  He reproached himself for any doubt that could lead him into error in regard to his lovely wife.  He also confessed to her his injustice; but she only gave him her fair hand, sighed deeply, and remained silent.  Yet a glance of fervent tenderness, an expression of the soul beaming in her eyes, such as he had never witnessed there before, left him in undoubted assurance that Undine bore him no ill-will.

He then rose joyfully, and leaving her, went to the common apartment, where the inmates of the house had already met.  The three were sitting round the hearth with an air of anxiety about them, as if they feared trusting themselves to raise their voice above a low, apprehensive undertone.  The priest appeared to be praying in his inmost spirit, with a view to avert some fatal calamity.  But when they observed the young husband come forth so cheerful, they dispelled the cloud that remained upon their brows:  the old fisherman even began to laugh with the knight till his aged wife herself could not help smiling with great good-humour.

Undine had in the meantime got ready, and now entered the room; all rose to meet her, but remained fixed in perfect admiration—­she was so changed, and yet the same.  The priest, with paternal affection beaming from his countenance, first went up to her; and as he raised his hand to pronounce a blessing, the beautiful bride sank on her knees before him with religious awe; she begged his pardon in terms both respectful and submissive for any foolish things she might have uttered the evening before, and entreated him with emotion to pray for the welfare of her soul.  She then rose, kissed her foster-parents, and, after thanking them for all the kindness they had shown her, said: 

“Oh, I now feel in my inmost heart how much, how infinitely much, you have done for me, you dear, dear friends of my childhood!”

At first she was wholly unable to tear herself away from their affectionate caresses; but the moment she saw the good old mother busy in getting breakfast, she went to the hearth, applied herself to cooking the food and putting it on the table, and would not suffer her to take the least share in the work.