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安徒生童話故事第25篇：夜鶯The Nightingale
引導語：夜鶯這篇安徒生童話故事，大家閱讀與學習過？主要講了什么？我們一起來閱讀下文了解。
你大概知道，在中國，皇帝是一個中國人;他周圍的人也是中國人。這故事是許多年以前發生的;但是正因為這個緣故，在人們沒有忘記它以前，值得聽一聽。這位皇帝的宮殿是世界上最華麗的，完全用細致的瓷磚砌成，價值非常高，不過非常脆薄，如果你想摸摸它，你必須萬分當心。人們在御花園里可以看到世界上最珍奇的花兒。那些最名貴的花上都系著銀鈴，好使得走過的人一聽到鈴聲就不得不注意這些花兒。是的，皇帝花園里的一切東西都布置得非常精巧。花園是那么大，連園丁都不知道它的盡頭是在什么地方。如果一個人不停地向前走，他可以碰到一個茂密的樹林，里面有根高的樹，還有很深的湖。樹林一直伸展到蔚藍色的、深沉的海那兒去。巨大的船只可以在樹枝底下航行。樹林里住著一只夜鶯。它的歌唱得非常美妙，連一個忙碌的窮苦漁夫在夜間出去收網的時候，一聽到這夜鶯的歌唱，也不得不停下來欣賞一下。
“我的天，唱得多么美啊!”他說。但是他不得不去做他的工作，所以只好把這鳥兒忘掉。不過第二天晚上，這鳥兒又唱起來了。漁夫聽到歌聲的時候，不禁又同樣地說，“我的天，唱得多么美啊!”
世界各國的旅行家都到這位皇帝的首都來，欣賞這座皇城、宮殿和花園。不過當他們聽到夜鶯歌唱的時候，他們都說：“這是最美的東西!”
這些旅行家回到本國以后，就談論著這件事情。于是許多學者寫了大量關于皇城、宮殿和花園的書籍，那些會寫詩的人還寫了許多最美麗的詩篇，歌頌這只住在樹林里的夜鶯。
這些書流行到全世界。有幾本居然流行到皇帝手里。他坐在他的金椅子上，讀了又讀：每一秒鐘點一次頭，因為那些關于皇城、宮殿和花園的細致的描寫使他讀起來感到非常舒服。“不過夜鶯是這一切東西中最美的東西，”這句話清清楚楚地擺在他面前。
“這是怎么一回事兒?”皇帝說。“夜鶯!我完全不知道有這只夜鶯!我的帝國里有這只鳥兒嗎?而且它還居然就在我的花園里面?我從來沒有聽到過這回事兒!這件事情我只能在書本上讀到!”
于是他把他的侍臣召進來。這是一位高貴的人物。任何比他渺小一點的人，只要敢于跟他講話或者問他一件什么事情，他一向只是簡單地回答一聲，“呸!”——這個字眼是任何意義也沒有的。
“據說這兒有一只叫夜鶯的奇異的鳥兒啦!”皇帝說。“人們都說它是我的偉大帝國里一件最珍貴的東西。為什么從來沒有人在我面前提起過呢?”
“我從來沒有聽到過它的名字，”侍臣說。“從來沒有人把它進貢到宮里來!”
“我命令：今晚必須把它弄來，在我面前唱唱歌。”皇帝說。“全世界都知道我有什么好東西，而我自己卻不知道!”
“我從來沒有聽到過它的名字，”侍臣說。“我得去找找它!我得去找找它!”
不過到什么地方去找它呢?這位侍臣在臺階上走上走下，在大廳和長廊里跑來跑去，但是他所遇到的人都說沒有聽到過有什么夜鶯。這位侍臣只好跑回到皇帝那兒去，說這一定是寫書的人捏造的一個神話。
陛下請不要相信書上所寫的東西。這些東西大都是無稽之談——也就是所謂‘胡說八道’罷了。”
“不過我讀過的那本書，”皇帝說，“是日本國的那位威武的皇帝送來的，因此它決不能是捏造的。我要聽聽夜鶯歌唱!今晚必須把它弄到這兒來!我下圣旨叫它來!如果它今晚來不了，宮里所有的人，一吃完晚飯就要在肚皮上結結實實地挨幾下!”
“欽佩①!”侍臣說。于是他又在臺階上走上走下，在大廳和長廊里跑來跑去。宮里有一半的人在跟著他亂跑，因為大家都不愿意在肚皮上挨揍。
于是他們便開始一種大規模的調查工作，調查這只奇異的夜鶯——這只除了宮廷的人以外、大家全都知道的夜鶯。
最后他們在廚房里碰見一個窮苦的小女孩。她說：
“哎呀，老天爺，原來你們要找夜鶯!我跟它再熟悉不過，它唱得很好聽。每天晚上大家準許我把桌上剩下的一點兒飯粒帶回家去，送給我可憐的生病的母親——她住在海岸旁邊。當我在回家的路上走得疲倦了的時候，我就在樹林里休息一會兒，那時我就聽到夜鶯唱歌。這時我的眼淚就流出來了，我覺得好像我的母親在吻我似的!”
“小丫頭!”侍臣說，”我將設法在廚房里為你弄一個固定的職位，還要使你得到看皇上吃飯的特權。但是你得把我們帶到夜鶯那兒去，因為它今晚得在皇上面前表演一下。”
這樣他們就一齊走到夜鶯經常唱歌的那個樹林里去。宮里一半的人都出動了。當他們正在走的時候，一頭母牛開始叫起來。
“呀!”一位年輕的貴族說，“現在我們可找到它了!這么一個小的動物，它的聲音可是特別洪亮!我以前在什么地方聽到過這聲音。”
“錯了，這是牛叫!”廚房的小女傭人說。”我們離那塊地方還遠著呢。”
接著，沼澤里的青蛙叫起來了。
中國的宮廷祭司說：“現在我算是聽到它了——它聽起來像廟里的小小鐘聲。”
“錯了，這是青蛙的叫聲!”廚房小女傭人說。“不過，我想很快我們就可以聽到夜鶯歌唱了。”
于是夜鶯開始唱起來。
“這才是呢!”小女傭人說：“聽啊，聽啊!它就棲在那兒。”
她指著樹枝上一只小小的灰色鳥兒。
“這個可能嗎?”侍臣說。“我從來就沒有想到它是那么一副樣兒!你們看它是多么平凡啊!這一定是因為它看到有這么多的官員在旁，嚇得失去了光彩的緣故。”
“小小的夜鶯!”廚房的小女傭人高聲地喊，“我們仁慈的皇上希望你到他面前去唱唱歌呢。”
“我非常高興!”夜鶯說，于是它唱出動聽的歌來。
“這聲音像玻璃鐘響!”侍臣說。“你們看，它的小歌喉唱得多么好!說來也稀奇，我們過去從未沒有聽到過它。這鳥兒到宮里去一定會逗得大家喜歡!”
“還要我再在皇上面前唱一次嗎?”夜鶯問，因為它以為皇帝在場。
“我的絕頂好的個夜鶯啊!”侍臣說，“我感到非常榮幸，命令你到宮里去參加一個晚會。你得用你美妙的歌喉去娛樂圣朝的皇上。”
“我的歌只有在綠色的樹林里才唱得最好!”夜鶯說。不過，當它聽說皇帝希望見它的時候，它還是去了。
宮殿被裝飾得煥然一新。瓷磚砌的墻和鋪的地，在無數金燈的光中閃閃發亮。那些掛著銀鈴的、最美麗的花朵，現在都被搬到走廊上來了。走廊里有許多人跑來跑去，卷起一陣微風，使所有的銀鈴都丁當丁當地響起來，弄得人們連自己說話都聽不見。
在皇帝坐著的大殿中央，人們豎起了一根金制的棲柱，好使夜鶯能棲在上面。整個宮廷的人都來了，廚房里的那個小女傭人也得到許可站在門后侍候——因為她現在得到了一個真正“廚仆”的稱號。大家都穿上了最好的衣服。大家都望著這只灰色的小鳥，皇帝在對它點頭。
于是這夜鶯唱了——唱得那么美妙，連皇帝都流出眼淚來。一直流到臉上。當夜鶯唱得更美妙的時候，它的歌聲就打動了皇帝的心弦。皇帝顯得那么高興，他甚至還下了一道命令，叫把他的金拖鞋掛在這只鳥兒的脖頸上。不過夜鶯謝絕了，說它所得到的報酬已經夠多了。
“我看到了皇上眼里的淚珠——這對于我說來是最寶貴的東西。皇上的眼淚有一種特別的力量。上帝知道，我得到的報酬已經不少了!”于是它用甜蜜幸福的聲音又唱了一次。
“這種逗人愛的撒嬌我們簡直沒有看見過!”在場的一些宮女們說。當人們跟她們講話的時候，她們自己就故意把水倒到嘴里，弄出咯咯的響聲來：她們以為她們也是夜鶯。小廝和丫環們也發表意見，說他們也很滿意——這種評語是不很簡單的，因為他們是最不容易得到滿足的一些人物。一句話：夜鶯獲得了極大的成功。
夜鶯現在要在宮里住下來，要有它自己的籠子了——它現在只有白天出去兩次和夜間出去一次散步的自由。每次總有十二個仆人跟著。他們牽著系在它腿上的一根絲線——而且他們老是拉得很緊。像這樣的出游并不是一件輕松愉快的事情。
整個京城里的人都在談論著這只奇異的鳥兒，當兩個人遇見的時候，一個只須說：“夜，”另一個就接著說“鶯”②)于是他們就互相嘆一口氣，彼此心照不宣。有十一個做小販的孩子都起了“夜鶯”這個名字，不過他們誰也唱不出一個調子來。
有一天皇帝收到了一個大包裹，上面寫著“夜鶯”兩個字。
“這又是一本關于我們這只名鳥的書!”皇帝說。
不過這并不是一本書;而是一件裝在盒子里的工藝品——只人造的夜鶯。它跟天生的夜鶯一模一樣，不過它全身裝滿了鉆石、紅玉和青玉。這只人造的鳥兒，只要它的發條上好，就能唱出一曲那只真夜鶯所唱的歌;它的尾巴上上下下地動著，射出金色和銀色的光來。它的脖頸上掛有一根小絲帶，上面寫道：“日本國皇帝的夜鶯，比起中國皇帝的夜鶯來，自然稍遜一籌。”
“它真是好看!”大家都說。送來這只人造夜鶯的那人馬上就獲得了一個稱號：“皇家首席夜鶯使者”。現在讓它們在一起唱吧，那將是多么好聽的雙重奏啊!”
這樣，它們就得在一起唱了，不過這個辦法卻行不通，因為那只真正的夜鶯只是按照自己的方式隨意唱，而這只人造的鳥兒只能唱“華爾茲舞曲”那個老調。
現在這只人造的鳥兒只好單獨唱了。它所獲得的成功，比得上那只真正的夜鶯;此外，它的外表卻是漂亮得多——它閃耀得如同金手釧和領扣。
它把同樣的調子唱了三十三次，而且還不覺得疲倦。大家都愿意繼續聽下去，不過皇帝說那只活的夜鶯也應該唱點兒什么東西才好——可是它到什么地方去了呢?誰也沒有注意到它已經飛出了窗子，回到它的青翠的樹林里面去了。
“這是什么意思呢?”皇帝說。
所有的朝臣們都咒罵那只夜鶯，說它是一個忘恩負義的東西。
“我們總算是有了一只最好的鳥了。”他們說。
因此那只人造的鳥兒又得唱起來了。他們把那個同樣的曲調又聽了第三十四次。雖然如此，他們還是記不住它，因為這是一個很難的曲調。樂師把這只鳥兒大大地稱贊了一番。他很肯定地說，它比那只真的夜鶯要好得多!不僅就它的羽毛和許多鉆石來說，即使就它的內部來說，也是如此。
他還說：“淑女和紳士們，特別是皇上陛下，你們各位要知道，你們永遠也猜不到一只真的夜鶯會唱出什么歌來;然而在這只人造夜鶯的身體里，一切早就安排好了，要它唱什么曲調。它就唱什么曲調!你可以把它拆開，可以看出它的內部活動：它的“華爾茲舞曲”是從什么地方起，到什么地方止，會有什么別他曲調接上來。”
“這正是我們的要求，”大家都說。
于是樂師就被批準下星期天把這只雀子公開展覽，讓民眾看一下。皇帝說，老百姓也應該聽聽它的歌。他們后來也就聽到了，也感到非常滿意，愉快的程度正好像他們喝過了茶一樣——因為吃茶是中國的習慣。他們都說：“哎!”同時舉起食指，點點頭。可是聽到過真正的夜鶯唱歌的那個漁夫說。
“它唱得倒也不壞，很像一只真鳥兒，不過它似乎總缺少了一種什么東西——雖然我不知道這究竟是什么!”
真正的夜鶯從這土地和帝國被放逐出去了。
那只人造夜鶯在皇帝床邊的一塊絲墊子上占了一個位置。它所得到的一切禮品——金子和寶石——都被陳列在它的周圍。在稱號方面，它已經被封為“高貴皇家夜間歌手”了。在等級上說來，它已經被提升到“左邊第一”的位置，因為皇帝認為心房所在的左邊是最重要的一邊——即使是一個皇帝，他的心也是偏左的。樂師寫了一部二十五卷關于這只人造鳥兒的書：這是一部學問淵博、篇幅很長、用那些最難懂的中國字寫的一部書。大臣們說，他們都讀過這部書，而且還懂得它的內容，因為他們都怕被認為是蠢才而在肚皮上挨揍。
整整一年過去了。皇帝、朝臣們以及其他的中國人都記得這只人造鳥兒所唱的歌中的每一個調兒。不過正因為現在大家都學會了：大家就更喜歡這只鳥兒了——大家現在可以跟它一起唱。街上的孩子們唱，吱-吱-吱-格碌-格碌!皇帝自己也唱起來——是的，這真是可愛得很!
不過一天晚上，當這只人造鳥兒在唱得最好的時候，當皇帝正躺在床上靜聽的時候，這只鳥兒的身體里面忽然發出一陣“咝咝”的聲音來。有一件什么東西斷了，“噓——”突然，所有的輪子都狂轉起來，于是歌聲就停止了。
皇帝立即跳下床，命令把他的御醫召進來。不過醫生又能有什么辦法呢，于是大家又去請一個鐘表匠來。經過一番磋商和考查以后，他總算把這只鳥兒勉強修好了，不過他說，這只鳥兒今后必須仔細保護，因為它里面的齒輪已經用壞了，要配上新的而又能奏出音樂，是一件困難的工作。這真是一件悲哀的事情!這只鳥兒只能一年唱一次，而這還要算是用得很過火呢!不過樂師作了一個短短的演說——里面全是些難懂的字眼——他說這鳥兒是跟從前一樣地好，因此當然是跟從前一樣地好……
五個年頭過去了。一件真正悲哀的事情終于來到了這個國家，這個國家的人都是很喜歡他們的皇帝，而他現在卻病了，同時據說他不能久留于人世。新的皇帝已經選好了。老百姓都跑到街上來，向侍臣探問他們的老皇帝的病情。
“呸!”他搖搖頭說。
皇帝躺在他華麗的大床上，冷冰冰的，面色慘白。整個宮廷的人都以為他死了，每人都跑到新皇帝那兒去致敬。男仆人都跑出來談論這件事，丫環們開始準備盛大的咖啡會③來。所有的地方，在大廳和走廊里，都鋪上了布，使得腳步聲不至于響起來，所以這兒現在是很靜寂，非常地靜寂。可是皇帝還沒有死，他僵直地、慘白地躺在華麗的床上——床上懸掛著天鵝絨的帷幔，帷幔上綴著厚厚的金絲穗子。頂上面的窗子是開著的，月亮照在皇帝和那只人造鳥兒身上。
這位可憐的皇帝幾乎不能夠呼吸了，他的胸口上好像有一件什么東西壓著，他睜開眼睛，看到死神坐在他的胸口上，并且還戴上了他的金王冠，一只手拿著皇帝的寶劍，另一只手拿著他的華貴的令旗。四周有許多奇形怪狀的腦袋從天鵝絨帷幔的褶紋里偷偷地伸出來，有的很丑，有的溫和可愛。這些東西都代表皇帝所做過的好事和壞事。現在死神既然坐在他的心坎上，這些奇形怪狀的腦袋就特地伸出來看他。
“你記得這件事嗎?”它們一個接著一個地低語著，”你記得那件事嗎?”它們告訴他許多事情，弄得他的前額冒出了許多汗珠。
“我不知道這件事!”皇帝說。”快把音樂奏起來!快把音樂奏起來!快把大鼓敲起來!”他叫出聲來，“好叫我聽不到他們講的這些事情呀!”
然而它們還是不停地在講。死神對它們所講的話點點頭——像中國人那樣點法。
“把音樂奏起來呀!把音樂奏起來呀!”皇帝叫起來。“你這只貴重的小金鳥兒，唱吧，唱吧!我曾送給你貴重的金禮品;我曾經親自把我的金拖鞋掛在你的脖頸上——現在請唱呀，唱呀!”
可是這只鳥兒站著動也不動一下，因為沒有誰來替它上好發條，而它不上好發條就唱不出歌來。不過死神繼續用他空洞的大眼睛盯著這位皇帝。四周是靜寂的，可怕的靜寂。
這時，正在這時候，窗子那兒有一個最美麗的歌聲唱起來了，這就是那只小小的、活的夜鶯，它棲在外面的一根樹枝上，它聽到皇帝可悲的境況，它現在特地來對他唱點安慰和希望的歌。當它在唱的時候，那些幽靈的面孔就漸漸變得淡了，同時在皇帝屠弱的肢體里，血也開始流動得活躍起來。甚至死神自己也開始聽起歌來，而且還說：“唱吧，小小的夜鶯，請唱下去吧!”
“不過，你愿意給我那把美麗的金劍嗎?你愿意給我那面華貴的令旗嗎?你愿意給我那頂皇帝的王冠嗎?”
死神把這些寶貴的東西都交了出來，以換取一支歌。于是夜鶯不停地唱下去。它歌唱那安靜的教堂墓地——那兒生長著白色的玫瑰花，那兒接骨木樹發出甜蜜的香氣，那兒新草染上了未亡人的眼淚。死神這時就眷戀地思念起自己的花園來，于是他就變成一股寒冷的白霧，在窗口消逝了。
“多謝你，多謝你!”皇帝說。“你這只神圣的小鳥!我現在懂得你了。我把你從我的土地和帝國趕出去，而你卻用歌聲把那些邪惡的面孔從我的床邊驅走，也把死神從我的心中去掉。我將用什么東西來報答你呢?”
“您已經報答我了!”夜鶯說：“當我第一次唱的時候，我從您的眼里得到了您的淚珠——我將永遠忘記不了這件事。每一滴眼淚是一顆珠寶——它可以使得一個歌者心花開放。不過現在請您睡吧，請您保養精神，變得健康起來吧，我將再為您喝一支歌。”
于是它唱起來——于是皇帝就甜蜜地睡著了。啊，這一覺是多么溫和，多么愉快啊!
當他醒來、感到神志清新、體力恢復了的時候，太陽從窗子里射進來，照在他的身上。他的侍從一個也沒有來，因為他們以為他死了。但是夜鶯仍然立在他的身邊，唱著歌。
“請你永遠跟我住在一起吧，”皇帝說。“你喜歡怎樣唱就怎樣唱。我將把那只人造鳥兒撕成一千塊碎片。”
“請不要這樣做吧，”夜鶯說。”它已經盡了它最大的努力。讓它仍然留在您的身邊吧。我不能在宮里筑一個窠住下來;不過，當我想到要來的時候，就請您讓我來吧。我將在黃昏的時候棲在窗外的樹枝上，為您唱支什么歌，叫您快樂，也叫您深思。我將歌唱那些幸福的人們和那些受難的人們。我將歌唱隱藏在您周圍的善和惡。您的小小的歌鳥現在要遠行了，它要飛到那個窮苦的漁夫身旁去，飛到農民的屋頂上去，飛到住得離您和您的宮廷很遠的每個人身邊去。比起您的王冠來，我更愛您的心。然而王冠卻也有它神圣的一面。我將會再來，為您唱歌——不過我要求您答應我一件事。”
“什么事都成!”皇帝說。他親自穿上他的朝服站著，同時把他那把沉重的金劍按在心上。
“我要求您一件事：請您不要告訴任何人，說您有一只會把什么事情都講給您聽的小鳥。只有這樣，一切才會美好。”
于是夜鶯就飛走了。
侍從們都進來瞧瞧他們死去了的皇帝——是的，他們都站在那兒，而皇帝卻說：“早安!”
①這是安徒生引用的一個中國字的譯音，原文是jsing’Pe!
②“夜鶯”在丹麥文中是Nattergal，作者在這兒似乎故意開了一個文字玩笑，因為這個字如果拆開，頭一半成為natter(夜——復數);則下一半“鶯”就成gal，gal這個字在丹麥文中卻是“發瘋”的意思。
夜鶯英文版：
The Nightingale
IN China, you know, the emperor is a Chinese, and all those about him are Chinamen also. The story I am going to tell you happened a great many years ago, so it is well to hear it now before it is forgotten. The emperor’s palace was the most beautiful in the world. It was built entirely of porcelain, and very costly, but so delicate and brittle that whoever touched it was obliged to be careful. In the garden could be seen the most singular flowers, with pretty silver bells tied to them, which tinkled so that every one who passed could not help noticing the flowers. Indeed, everything in the emperor’s garden was remarkable, and it extended so far that the gardener himself did not know where it ended. Those who travelled beyond its limits knew that there was a noble forest, with lofty trees, sloping down to the deep blue sea, and the great ships sailed under the shadow of its branches. In one of these trees lived a nightingale, who sang so beautifully that even the poor fishermen, who had so many other things to do, would stop and listen. Sometimes, when they went at night to spread their nets, they would hear her sing, and say, “Oh, is not that beautiful?” But when they returned to their fishing, they forgot the bird until the next night. Then they would hear it again, and exclaim “Oh, how beautiful is the nightingale’s song!”
Travellers from every country in the world came to the city of the emperor, which they admired very much, as well as the palace and gardens; but when they heard the nightingale, they all declared it to be the best of all. And the travellers, on their return home, related what they had seen; and learned men wrote books, containing descriptions of the town, the palace, and the gardens; but they did not forget the nightingale, which was really the greatest wonder. And those who could write poetry composed beautiful verses about the nightingale, who lived in a forest near the deep sea. The books travelled all over the world, and some of them came into the hands of the emperor; and he sat in his golden chair, and, as he read, he nodded his approval every moment, for it pleased him to find such a beautiful description of his city, his palace, and his gardens. But when he came to the words, “the nightingale is the most beautiful of all,” he exclaimed, “What is this? I know nothing of any nightingale. Is there such a bird in my empire? and even in my garden? I have never heard of it. Something, it appears, may be learnt from books.”
Then he called one of his lords-in-waiting, who was so high-bred, that when any in an inferior rank to himself spoke to him, or asked him a question, he would answer, “Pooh,” which means nothing.
“There is a very wonderful bird mentioned here, called a nightingale,” said the emperor; “they say it is the best thing in my large kingdom. Why have I not been told of it?”
“I have never heard the name,” replied the cavalier; “she has not been presented at court.”
“It is my pleasure that she shall appear this evening.” said the emperor; “the whole world knows what I possess better than I do myself.”
“I have never heard of her,” said the cavalier; “yet I will endeavor to find her.”
But where was the nightingale to be found? The nobleman went up stairs and down, through halls and passages; yet none of those whom he met had heard of the bird. So he returned to the emperor, and said that it must be a fable, invented by those who had written the book. “Your imperial majesty,” said he, “cannot believe everything contained in books; sometimes they are only fiction, or what is called the black art.”
“But the book in which I have read this account,” said the emperor, “was sent to me by the great and mighty emperor of Japan, and therefore it cannot contain a falsehood. I will hear the nightingale, she must be here this evening; she has my highest favor; and if she does not come, the whole court shall be trampled upon after supper is ended.”
“Tsing-pe!” cried the lord-in-waiting, and again he ran up and down stairs, through all the halls and corridors; and half the court ran with him, for they did not like the idea of being trampled upon. There was a great inquiry about this wonderful nightingale, whom all the world knew, but who was unknown to the court.
At last they met with a poor little girl in the kitchen, who said, “Oh, yes, I know the nightingale quite well; indeed, she can sing. Every evening I have permission to take home to my poor sick mother the scraps from the table; she lives down by the sea-shore, and as I come back I feel tired, and I sit down in the wood to rest, and listen to the nightingale’s song. Then the tears come into my eyes, and it is just as if my mother kissed me.”
“Little maiden,” said the lord-in-waiting, “I will obtain for you constant employment in the kitchen, and you shall have permission to see the emperor dine, if you will lead us to the nightingale; for she is invited for this evening to the palace.” So she went into the wood where the nightingale sang, and half the court followed her. As they went along, a cow began lowing.
“Oh,” said a young courtier, “now we have found her; what wonderful power for such a small creature; I have certainly heard it before.”
“No, that is only a cow lowing,” said the little girl; “we are a long way from the place yet.”
Then some frogs began to croak in the marsh.
“Beautiful,” said the young courtier again. “Now I hear it, tinkling like little church bells.”
“No, those are frogs,” said the little maiden; “but I think we shall soon hear her now:” and presently the nightingale began to sing.
“Hark, hark! there she is,” said the girl, “and there she sits,” she added, pointing to a little gray bird who was perched on a bough.
“Is it possible?” said the lord-in-waiting, “I never imagined it would be a little, plain, simple thing like that. She has certainly changed color at seeing so many grand people around her.”
“Little nightingale,” cried the girl, raising her voice, “our most gracious emperor wishes you to sing before him.”
“With the greatest pleasure,” said the nightingale, and began to sing most delightfully.
“It sounds like tiny glass bells,” said the lord-in-waiting, “and see how her little throat works. It is surprising that we have never heard this before; she will be a great success at court.”
“Shall I sing once more before the emperor?” asked the nightingale, who thought he was present.
“My excellent little nightingale,” said the courtier, “I have the great pleasure of inviting you to a court festival this evening, where you will gain imperial favor by your charming song.”
“My song sounds best in the green wood,” said the bird; but still she came willingly when she heard the emperor’s wish.
The palace was elegantly decorated for the occasion. The walls and floors of porcelain glittered in the light of a thousand lamps. Beautiful flowers, round which little bells were tied, stood in the corridors: what with the running to and fro and the draught, these bells tinkled so loudly that no one could speak to be heard. In the centre of the great hall, a golden perch had been fixed for the nightingale to sit on. The whole court was present, and the little kitchen-maid had received permission to stand by the door. She was not installed as a real court cook. All were in full dress, and every eye was turned to the little gray bird when the emperor nodded to her to begin. The nightingale sang so sweetly that the tears came into the emperor’s eyes, and then rolled down his cheeks, as her song became still more touching and went to every one’s heart. The emperor was so delighted that he declared the nightingale should have his gold slipper to wear round her neck, but she declined the honor with thanks: she had been sufficiently rewarded already. “I have seen tears in an emperor’s eyes,” she said, “that is my richest reward. An emperor’s tears have wonderful power, and are quite sufficient honor for me;” and then she sang again more enchantingly than ever.
“That singing is a lovely gift;” said the ladies of the court to each other; and then they took water in their mouths to make them utter the gurgling sounds of the nightingale when they spoke to any one, so thay they might fancy themselves nightingales. And the footmen and chambermaids also expressed their satisfaction, which is saying a great deal, for they are very difficult to please. In fact the nightingale’s visit was most successful. She was now to remain at court, to have her own cage, with liberty to go out twice a day, and once during the night. Twelve servants were appointed to attend her on these occasions, who each held her by a silken string fastened to her leg. There was certainly not much pleasure in this kind of flying.
The whole city spoke of the wonderful bird, and when two people met, one said “nightin,” and the other said “gale,” and they understood what was meant, for nothing else was talked of. Eleven peddlers’ children were named after her, but not of them could sing a note.
One day the emperor received a large packet on which was written “The Nightingale.” “Here is no doubt a new book about our celebrated bird,” said the emperor. But instead of a book, it was a work of art contained in a casket, an artificial nightingale made to look like a living one, and covered all over with diamonds, rubies, and sapphires. As soon as the artificial bird was wound up, it could sing like the real one, and could move its tail up and down, which sparkled with silver and gold. Round its neck hung a piece of ribbon, on which was written “The Emperor of Japan’s nightingale is poor compared with that of the Emperor of China’s.”1
“This is very beautiful,” exclaimed all who saw it, and he who had brought the artificial bird received the title of “Imperial nightingale-bringer-in-chief.”
“Now they must sing together,” said the court, “and what a duet it will be.” But they did not get on well, for the real nightingale sang in its own natural way, but the artificial bird sang only waltzes.
“That is not a fault,” said the music-master, “it is quite perfect to my taste,” so then it had to sing alone, and was as successful as the real bird; besides, it was so much prettier to look at, for it sparkled like bracelets and breast-pins. Three and thirty times did it sing the same tunes without being tired; the people would gladly have heard it again, but the emperor said the living nightingale ought to sing something. But where was she? No one had noticed her when she flew out at the open window, back to her own green woods.
“What strange conduct,” said the emperor, when her flight had been discovered; and all the courtiers blamed her, and said she was a very ungrateful creature.
“But we have the best bird after all,” said one, and then they would have the bird sing again, although it was the thirty-fourth time they had listened to the same piece, and even then they had not learnt it, for it was rather difficult. But the music-master praised the bird in the highest degree, and even asserted that it was better than a real nightingale, not only in its dress and the beautiful diamonds, but also in its musical power. “For you must perceive, my chief lord and emperor, that with a real nightingale we can never tell what is going to be sung, but with this bird everything is settled. It can be opened and explained, so that people may understand how the waltzes are formed, and why one note follows upon another.”
“This is exactly what we think,” they all replied, and then the music-master received permission to exhibit the bird to the people on the following Sunday, and the emperor commanded that they should be present to hear it sing. When they heard it they were like people intoxicated; however it must have been with drinking tea, which is quite a Chinese custom. They all said “Oh!” and held up their forefingers and nodded, but a poor fisherman, who had heard the real nightingale, said, “it sounds prettily enough, and the melodies are all alike; yet there seems something wanting, I cannot exactly tell what.”
And after this the real nightingale was banished from the empire, and the artificial bird placed on a silk cushion close to the emperor’s bed. The presents of gold and precious stones which had been received with it were round the bird, and it was now advanced to the title of “Little Imperial Toilet Singer,” and to the rank of No. 1 on the left hand; for the emperor considered the left side, on which the heart lies, as the most noble, and the heart of an emperor is in the same place as that of other people.
The music-master wrote a work, in twenty-five volumes, about the artificial bird, which was very learned and very long, and full of the most difficult Chinese words; yet all the people said they had read it, and understood it, for fear of being thought stupid and having their bodies trampled upon.
So a year passed, and the emperor, the court, and all the other Chinese knew every little turn in the artificial bird’s song; and for that same reason it pleased them better. They could sing with the bird, which they often did. The street-boys sang, “Zi-zi-zi, cluck, cluck, cluck,” and the emperor himself could sing it also. It was really most amusing.
One evening, when the artificial bird was singing its best, and the emperor lay in bed listening to it, something inside the bird sounded “whizz.” Then a spring cracked. “Whir-r-r-r” went all the wheels, running round, and then the music stopped. The emperor immediately sprang out of bed, and called for his physician; but what could he do? Then they sent for a watchmaker; and, after a great deal of talking and examination, the bird was put into something like order; but he said that it must be used very carefully, as the barrels were worn, and it would be impossible to put in new ones without injuring the music. Now there was great sorrow, as the bird could only be allowed to play once a year; and even that was dangerous for the works inside it. Then the music-master made a little speech, full of hard words, and declared that the bird was as good as ever; and, of course no one contradicted him.
Five years passed, and then a real grief came upon the land. The Chinese really were fond of their emperor, and he now lay so ill that he was not expected to live. Already a new emperor had been chosen and the people who stood in the street asked the lord-in-waiting how the old emperor was; but he only said, “Pooh!” and shook his head.
Cold and pale lay the emperor in his royal bed; the whole court thought he was dead, and every one ran away to pay homage to his successor. The chamberlains went out to have a talk on the matter, and the ladies’-maids invited company to take coffee. Cloth had been laid down on the halls and passages, so that not a footstep should be heard, and all was silent and still. But the emperor was not yet dead, although he lay white and stiff on his gorgeous bed, with the long velvet curtains and heavy gold tassels. A window stood open, and the moon shone in upon the emperor and the artificial bird. The poor emperor, finding he could scarcely breathe with a strange weight on his chest, opened his eyes, and saw Death sitting there. He had put on the emperor’s golden crown, and held in one hand his sword of state, and in the other his beautiful banner. All around the bed and peeping through the long velvet curtains, were a number of strange heads, some very ugly, and others lovely and gentle-looking. These were the emperor’s good and bad deeds, which stared him in the face now Death sat at his heart.
“Do you remember this?” “Do you recollect that?” they asked one after another, thus bringing to his remembrance circumstances that made the perspiration stand on his brow.
“I know nothing about it,” said the emperor. “Music! music!” he cried; “the large Chinese drum! that I may not hear what they say.” But they still went on, and Death nodded like a Chinaman to all they said. “Music! music!” shouted the emperor. “You little precious golden bird, sing, pray sing! I have given you gold and costly presents; I have even hung my golden slipper round your neck. Sing! sing!” But the bird remained silent. There was no one to wind it up, and therefore it could not sing a note.
Death continued to stare at the emperor with his cold, hollow eyes, and the room was fearfully still. Suddenly there came through the open window the sound of sweet music. Outside, on the bough of a tree, sat the living nightingale. She had heard of the emperor’s illness, and was therefore come to sing to him of hope and trust. And as she sung, the shadows grew paler and paler; the blood in the emperor’s veins flowed more rapidly, and gave life to his weak limbs; and even Death himself listened, and said, “Go on, little nightingale, go on.”
“Then will you give me the beautiful golden sword and that rich banner? and will you give me the emperor’s crown?” said the bird.
So Death gave up each of these treasures for a song; and the nightingale continued her singing. She sung of the quiet churchyard, where the white roses grow, where the elder-tree wafts its perfume on the breeze, and the fresh, sweet grass is moistened by the mourners’ tears. Then Death longed to go and see his garden, and floated out through the window in the form of a cold, white mist.
“Thanks, thanks, you heavenly little bird. I know you well. I banished you from my kingdom once, and yet you have charmed away the evil faces from my bed, and banished Death from my heart, with your sweet song. How can I reward you?”
“You have already rewarded me,” said the nightingale. “I shall never forget that I drew tears from your eyes the first time I sang to you. These are the jewels that rejoice a singer’s heart. But now sleep, and grow strong and well again. I will sing to you again.”
And as she sung, the emperor fell into a sweet sleep; and how mild and refreshing that slumber was! When he awoke, strengthened and restored, the sun shone brightly through the window; but not one of his servants had returned—they all believed he was dead; only the nightingale still sat beside him, and sang.
“You must always remain with me,” said the emperor. “You shall sing only when it pleases you; and I will break the artificial bird into a thousand pieces.”
“No; do not do that,” replied the nightingale; “the bird did very well as long as it could. Keep it here still. I cannot live in the palace, and build my nest; but let me come when I like. I will sit on a bough outside your window, in the evening, and sing to you, so that you may be happy, and have thoughts full of joy. I will sing to you of those who are happy, and those who suffer; of the good and the evil, who are hidden around you. The little singing bird flies far from you and your court to the home of the fisherman and the peasant’s cot. I love your heart better than your crown; and yet something holy lingers round that also. I will come, I will sing to you; but you must promise me one thing.”
“Everything,” said the emperor, who, having dressed himself in his imperial robes, stood with the hand that held the heavy golden sword pressed to his heart.
“I only ask one thing,” she replied; “let no one know that you have a little bird who tells you everything. It will be best to conceal it.” So saying, the nightingale flew away.
The servants now came in to look after the dead emperor; when, lo! there he stood, and, to their astonishment, said, “Good morning.”
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