“Oh! that’s my little peal of bells!” cried Marie, and went nearer and looked in. Then she saw that there was bright light in the cupboard, and everything was busily in motion there; dolls and little figures of various kinds all running about together, and struggling with their little arms. At this point, Nutcracker rose from his bed, cast off the bedclothes, and sprang with both feet onto the floor (of the shelf), crying out at the top of his voice:

  Knack, knack, knack,

  Stupid mousey pack,

  All their skulls we’ll crack.

  Mousey pack, knack, knack,

  Mousey pack, crick and crack,

  Cowardly lot of schnack!

  And with this he drew his little sword, waved it in the air, and cried:

  “Ye, my trusty vassals, brethren and friends, are ye ready to stand by me in this great battle?”

  Immediately three scaramouches, one pantaloon, four chimney-sweeps, two zither-players, and a drummer cried, in eager accents:

  “Yes, your highness; we will stand by you in loyal duty; we will follow you to death, victory, and the fray!” And they precipitated themselves after Nutcracker (who, in the excitement of the moment, had dared that perilous leap) to the bottom shelf. Now they might well dare this perilous leap, for not only had they got plenty of clothes on, of cloth and silk, but besides, there was not much in their insides except cotton and sawdust, so that they plumped down like little wool-sacks. But as for poor Nutcracker, he would certainly have broken his arms and legs; for, bethink you, it was nearly two feet from where he had stood to the shelf below, and his body was as fragile as if he had been made of elm-wood. Yes, Nutcracker would have broken his arms and legs, had not Miss Clara started up at the moment of his spring, and received the hero, drawn sword and all, in her tender arms.

  “Oh! you dear, good Clara!” cried Marie, “how I did misunderstand you. I believe you were quite willing to let dear Nutcracker have your bed.”

  But Miss Clara now cried, as she pressed the young hero gently to her silken breast:

  “Oh, my lord! go not into this battle and danger, sick and wounded as you are. See how your trusty vassals, clowns and pantaloon, chimney-sweeps, zithermen and drummer, are already arrayed below; and the puzzle-figures in my shelf here are in motion and preparing for the fray! Deign, oh my lord, to rest in these arms of mine, and contemplate your victory from a safe coign of vantage.”

  Thus spoke Clara. But Nutcracker behaved so impatiently, and kicked so with his legs, that Clara was obliged to put him down on the shelf in a hurry. However, he at once sank gracefully on one knee, and expressed himself as follows:

  “Oh, lady! the kind protection and aid which you have afforded me will ever be present to my heart, in battle and in victory!”

  On this, Clara bowed herself so as to be able to take hold of him by his arms, raised him gently up, quickly loosed her girdle, which was ornamented with many spangles, and would have placed it about his shoulders. But the little man swiftly drew himself two steps back, laid his hand upon his heart, and said, with much solemnity:

  “Oh, lady! do not bestow this mark of your favour upon me; for—” He hesitated, gave a deep sigh, took the ribbon with which Marie had bound him from his shoulders, pressed it to his lips, put it on as a token, and, waving his glittering sword, sprang like a bird over the ledge of the cupboard down to the floor.

  You will observe, kind reader, that Nutcracker, even before he really came to life, had felt and understood all Marie’s goodness and regard, and that it was because of his gratitude and devotion to her that he would not take or even wear Miss Clara’s ribbon, although it was exceedingly pretty and charming. This good, true-hearted Nutcracker preferred Marie’s much commoner and less pretentious token.

  But what is going to happen now? At the moment when Nutcracker sprang down, the squeaking and piping began again worse than ever. Alas! under the big table, the hordes of the mouse army had taken up a position, densely massed, under the command of the terrible mouse with the seven heads. So what is to be the result?

  THE BATTLE

  “Beat the Generale, trusty vassal-drummer!” cried Nutcracker, very loudly, and immediately the drummer began to roll his drum in the most splendid style, so that the windows of the glass cupboard rattled and resounded. Then there began a cracking and a clattering inside, and Marie saw all the lids of the boxes in which Fritz’s army was quartered bursting open. The soldiers all came out and jumped down to the bottom shelf, where they formed up in good order. Nutcracker hurried up and down the ranks, speaking words of encouragement.

  “There’s not a dog of a trumpeter taking the trouble to sound a call!” he cried in a fury. Then he turned to the pantaloon (who was looking decidedly pale), and wobbling his long chin a good deal, said in a solemn tone:

  “I know how brave and experienced you are, General! What is essential here is a rapid comprehension of the situation, and immediate utilization of the passing moment. I entrust you with the command of the cavalry and artillery. You can do without a horse; your own legs are long, and you can gallop on them as fast as is necessary. Do your duty!”

  Immediately Pantaloon put his long, lean fingers to his mouth, and gave such a piercing crow that it rang as if a hundred little trumpets had been sounding lustily. Then there began a tramping and a neighing in the cupboard; and Fritz’s dragoons and cuirassiers —but above all, the new glittering hussars—marched out, and then came to a halt, drawn up on the floor. They then marched past Nutcracker by regiments, with guidons flying and bands playing. After this they wheeled into line, and formed up at right angles to the line of march. Upon this, Fritz’s artillery came rattling up, and formed action front in advance of the halted cavalry. Then it went “boom-boom!” and Marie saw the sugar-plums doing terrible execution amongst the thickly-massed mouse-battalions, which were powdered quite white by them, and greatly put to shame. But a battery of heavy guns, which had taken up a strong position on mamma’s footstool, was what did the greatest execution; and “poom-poom-poom!” kept up a murderous fire of gingerbread nuts into the enemy’s ranks with most destructive effect, mowing the mice down in great numbers.

  The enemy, however, was not materially checked in his advance, and had even possessed himself of one or two of the heavy guns, when there came “prr-prr-prr!” and Marie could scarcely see what was happening for smoke and dust; but this much is certain, that every corps engaged fought with the utmost bravery and determination, and it was for a long time doubtful which side would gain the day. The mice kept on developing fresh bodies of their forces, as they were advanced to the scene of action; their little silver balls —like pills in size—which they delivered with great precision (their musketry practice being especially fine) took effect even inside the glass cupboard. Clara and Gertrude ran up and down in utter despair, wringing their hands, and loudly lamenting.

  “Must I—the very loveliest doll in all the world—perish miserably in the very flower of my youth?” cried Miss Clara.

  “Oh! was it for this,” wept Gertrude, “that I have taken such pains to conserver myself all these years? Must I be shot here in my own drawing-room after all?”

  On this, they fell into each other’s arms, and howled so terribly that you could hear them above all the din of the battle. For you have no idea of the hurly-burly that went on now, dear auditor! It went prr-prr-poof, piff-schnetterdeng—schnetterdeng—boombooroom—boom-booroom—boom—all confusedly and higgledy-piggledy; and the mouse-king and the mice squeaked and screamed; and then again Nutcracker’s powerful voice was heard shouting words of command, and issuing important orders, and he was seen striding along amongst his battalions in the thick of the fire.

  Pantaloon had made several most brilliant cavalry charges, and covered himself with glory. But Fritz’s hussars were subjected—by the mice—to a heavy fire of very evil-smelling shot, which made horrid spots on their red tunics; this caused them to hesitate, and hang rather back for a time. Pantaloon made them take ground to the left, in echelon, and in the excitement of the moment he, with his dragoons and cuirassiers, executed a somewhat analogous movement. That is to say, they brought up the right shoulder, wheeled to the left, and marched home to their quarters. This had the effect of bringing the battery of artillery on the footstool into imminent danger, and it was not long before a large body of exceedingly ugly mice delivered such a vigorous assault on this position that the whole of the footstool, with the guns and gunners, fell into the enemy’s hands.

  Nutcracker seemed much disconcerted, and ordered his right wing to commence a retrograde movement. A soldier of your experience, my dear Fritz, knows well that such a movement is almost tantamount to a regular retreat, and you grieve with me in anticipation, for the disaster which threatens the army of Marie’s beloved little Nutcracker. But turn your glance in the other direction, and look at this left wing of Nutcracker’s, where all is still going well, and you will see that there is still much hope for the commander-in-chief and his cause.

  During the hottest part of the engagement, masses of mouse cavalry had been quietly debouching from under the chest of drawers, and had subsequently made a most determined advance upon the left wing of Nutcracker’s force, uttering loud and horrible squeakings. But what a reception they met with! Very slowly, as the nature of the terrain necessitated (for the ledge at the bottom of the cupboard had to be passed), the regiment of motto figures, commanded by two Chinese Emperors, advanced, and formed a square. These fine, brilliantly uniformed troops, consisting of gardeners, Tyrolese, Tungooses, hairdressers, harlequins, Cupids, lions, tigers, unicorns, and monkeys, fought with the utmost courage, coolness, and steady endurance.

  This bataillon d’élite would have wrested the victory from the enemy had not one of the mouse cavalry captains, pushing forward in a rash and foolhardy manner, made a charge upon one of the Chinese Emperors and bitten off his head. This Chinese Emperor, in his fall, knocked over and smothered a couple of Tungooses and a unicorn, and this created a gap through which the enemy effected a rush, which resulted in the whole battalion being bitten to death. But the enemy gained little advantage by this; for as soon as one of the mouse-cavalry soldiers bit one of these brave adversaries to death, he found that there was a small piece of printed paper sticking in his throat, of which he died in a moment. Still, this was of small advantage to Nutcracker’s army, which, having once commenced a retrograde movement, went on retreating farther and farther, suffering greater and greater loss. The unfortunate Nutcracker soon found himself driven back close to the front of the cupboard, with a very small remnant of his army.

  “Bring up the reserves! Pantaloon! Scrunched! Drummer! where the devil have you got to?” shouted Nutcracker, who was still reckoning on reinforcements from the cupboard. And there did, in fact, advance a small contingent of brown gingerbread men and women, with gilt faces, hats, and helmets; but they laid about them so clumsily that they never hit any of the enemy, and soon knocked off the cap of their commander-in-chief, Nutcracker himself. And the enemy’s chasseurs soon bit their legs off, so that they tumbled topsy-turvy, and killed several of Nutcracker’s companions-in-arms into the bargain.

  Nutcracker was now hard pressed, and closely hemmed in by the enemy, and in a position of extreme peril. He tried to jump the bottom ledge of the cupboard, but his legs were not long enough. Clara and Gertrude had fainted; so they could give him no assistance. Hussars and heavy dragoons came charging up at him, and he shouted in wild despair:

  “A horse! a horse! My kingdom for a horse!”

  At this moment two of the enemy’s riflemen seized him by his wooden cloak, and the king of the mice went rushing up to him, squeaking in triumph out of all his seven throats.

  Marie could contain herself no longer. “Oh! my poor Nutcracker!” she sobbed, took her left shoe off, without very distinctly knowing what she was about, and threw it as hard as she could into the thick of the enemy, straight at their king.

  Instantly everything vanished and disappeared. All was silence. Nothing was to be seen. But Marie felt a more stinging pain than before in her left arm, and fell on the floor insensible.

  THE INVALID

  When Marie awoke from a deathlike sleep she was lying in her little bed; and the sun was shining brightly in at the window, which was all covered with frost-flowers. There was a strange gentleman sitting beside her, whom she recognized as Dr. Wendelstern. “She’s awake,” he said softly, and her mother came and looked at her very scrutinizingly and anxiously.

  “Oh, mother!” whispered Marie, “are all those horrid mice gone away, and is Nutcracker quite safe?”

  “Don’t talk such nonsense, Marie,” answered her mother. “What have the mice to do with Nutcracker? You’re a very naughty girl, and have caused us all a great deal of anxiety. See what comes of children not doing as they’re told! You were playing with your toys so late last night that you fell asleep. I don’t know whether or not some mouse jumped out and frightened you, though there are no mice here, generally. But you broke a pane of the glass cupboard with your elbow, and cut your arm so badly that Dr. Wendelstern (who has just taken a number of pieces of the glass out of your arm) thinks that if it had been a little higher up you might have had a stiff arm for life, or even have bled to death. Thank Heaven, I awoke about twelve o’clock and missed you; and I found you lying insensible in front of the glass cupboard, bleeding frightfully, with a number of Fritz’s lead soldiers scattered round you, and other toys, broken motto figures, and gingerbread men; and Nutcracker was lying on your bleeding arm, with your left shoe not far off.”

  “Oh, mother, mother,” said Marie, “these were the remains of the tremendous battle between the toys and the mice; and what frightened me so terribly was that the mice were going to take Nutcracker (who was the commander-in-chief of the toy army) prisoner. Then I threw my shoe in among the mice, and after that I know nothing more that happened.”

  Dr. Wendelstern gave a significant look at the mother, who said very gently to Marie:

  “Never mind, dear, keep yourself quiet. The mice are all gone away, and Nutcracker’s in the cupboard, quite safe and sound.”

  Here Marie’s father came in, and had a long consultation with Dr. Wendelstern. Then he felt Marie’s pulse, and she heard them talking about “wound-fever.” She had to stay in bed and take medicine for some days, although she didn’t feel at all ill, except that her arm was rather stiff and painful. She knew Nutcracker had got safe out of the battle, and she seemed to remember, as if in a dream, that he had said, quite distinctly, in a very melancholy tone:

  “Marie! dearest lady! I am most deeply indebted to you. But it is in your power to do even more for me.”

  She thought and thought what this could possibly be, but in vain; she couldn’t make it out. She wasn’t able to play on account of her arm; and when she tried to read, or look through the picture books, everything wavered before her eyes so strangely that she was obliged to stop. The days seemed very long to her, and she could scarcely pass the time till evening, when her mother came and sat at her bedside, telling and reading her all sorts of nice stories. She had just finished telling her the story of Prince Fakardin, when the door opened and in came Godpapa Drosselmeier, saying:

  “I’ve come to see with my own eyes how Marie’s getting on.”

  When Marie saw Godpapa Drosselmeier in his little yellow coat, the scene of the night when Nutcracker lost the battle with the mice came so vividly back to her that she couldn’t help crying out:

  “Oh! Godpapa Drosselmeier, how nasty you were! I saw you quite well when you were sitting on the clock, covering it all over with your wings to prevent it from striking and frightening the mice. I heard you quite well when you called the Mouse-King. Why didn’t you help Nutcracker? Why didn’t you help me, you nasty god-papa? It’s nobody’s fault but yours that I’m lying here with a bad arm.”

  Her mother, in much alarm, asked what she meant. But Drosselmeier began making extraordinary faces, and said, in a snarling voice, like a sort of chant in monotone:

  “Pendulums could only rattle—couldn’t tick, ne’er a click; all the clocks stopped their ticking: no more clicking; then they all struck loud, cling-clang. Dolls! Don’t your heads hang down! Hink and hank, and honk and hank. Doll-girls! don’t hang your heads! Cling and ring! The battle’s over—Nutcracker all safe in clover. Comes the owl, on downy wing—Scares away the mouses’ king. Pak and pik and pik and pook—clocks, bim-boom—grr-grr. Pendulums must click again. Tick and tack, grr and brr, prr and purr.”

  Marie fixed wide eyes of terror upon Godpapa Drosselmeier, because he was looking quite different and far more horrid than usual, and was jerking his right arm backwards and forwards as if he were some puppet moved by a handle. She was beginning to grow terribly frightened at him when her mother came in, and Fritz (who had arrived in the meantime) laughed heartily, crying, “Why, godpapa, you are going on funnily! You’re just like my old Jumping Jack that I threw away last month.”

  But the mother looked very grave, and said, “This is a most extraordinary way of going on, Mr. Drosselmeier. What can you mean by it?”

  “My goodness!” said Drosselmeier, laughing, “did you never hear my nice Watchmaker’s Song? I always sing it to little invalids like Marie.” Then he hastened to sit down beside Marie’s bed, and said to her, “Don’t be vexed with me because I didn’t gouge out all the Mouse-King’s fourteen eyes. That couldn’t be managed exactly; but to make up for it, here’s something which I know will please you greatly.”

  He dived into one of his pockets, and what he slowly, slowly brought out of it was—Nutcracker! whose teeth he had put in again quite firmly, and set his broken jaw completely to rights. Marie shouted for joy, and her mother laughed and said, “Now you see for yourself how nice Godpapa Drosselmeier is to Nutcracker.”

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17