Marie grew terribly frightened and was going to rush away as quickly as she could when she noticed that Godpapa Drosselmeier was up on top of the clock instead of the owl.
“Godpapa Drosselmeier,” she called out as soon as she composed herself. “What are you doing up there, you naughty, naughty godpapa?”
But then there began a strange scampering and squeaking everywhere, all about, and presently there was a sound of running and trotting as of thousands of little feet behind the walls, and at the same time thousands of little lights began to glitter out between the chinks of the woodwork. But they were not lights, no, no,—little glittering eyes; and Marie said that everywhere mice were peeping and squeezing themselves out through every chink. Presently they were trotting and galloping in all directions all over the room.
Marie was not afraid of mice, and she could not help being amused by this sight. She stood watching the mice come from all directions when suddenly there came a sharp and terrible piping noise and seven mouse heads with seven shining crowns upon them, rose through the floor and behind them wriggled a mouse’s body on which the seven heads had all grown. Then the whole army of mice shouted in full chorus and went trot, trot, trot! right up to the cupboard—in fact, to Marie who was standing beside it.
Half frightened, Marie leaned back against the cupboard door and there was a klirr, klirr, klirr! What was happening? Right behind Marie a movement seemed to commence in the cupboard and small, faint voices began to be heard, saying:
“Come, awake, measures take,
Out to the fight, out to the fight;
Shield the right, shield the right,
Arm and away, this is the night,”
and bells began ringing as prettily as you please.
“Oh, that’s my little peal of bells,” cried Marie, and she went nearer and looked in. Then she saw that there was a bright light in the cupboard and everything there was astir. Dolls and little figures of all kinds were running about together and struggling with their little arms. All at once Nutcracker rose from his bed, cast off the bed clothes and sprang with both feet to the floor (of the shelf), calling out:
“Knack, knack, knack:
Stupid mousey pack.”
And with this he drew his little sword, waved it in the air, and cried: “My trusty followers, are you ready to stand by me in the battle?”