安徒生童话-第212章
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ng pany。 AgainI saw the well…remembered face; with the painted cheeks and thecrisp beard。 He looked up at me and smiled; and yet he had been hissedoff only a minute before… hissed off from a wretched theatre; by amiserable audience。 And tonight a shabby hearse rolled out of thetown…gate。 It was a suicide… our painted; despised hero。 The driver ofthe hearse was the only person present; for no one followed exceptmy beams。 In a corner of the churchyard the corpse of the suicidewas shovelled into the earth; and tles will soon be growingrankly over his grave; and the sexton will throw thorns and weeds fromthe other graves upon it。〃
NIEENTH EVENING
〃I e from Rome;〃 said the Moon。 〃In the midst of the city; uponone of the seven hills; lie the ruins of the imperial palace。 The wildfig tree grows in the clefts of the wall; and covers the nakednessthereof with its broad grey…green leaves; trampling among heaps ofrubbish; the ass treads upon green laurels; and rejoices over the rankthistles。 From this spot; whence the eagles of Rome once flewabroad; whence they 'came; saw; and conquered;' our door leads intoa little mean house; built of clay between two pillars; the wildvine hangs like a mourning garland over the crooked window。 An oldwoman and her little granddaughter live there: they rule now in thepalace of the Caesars; and show to strangers the remains of its pastglories。 Of the splendid throne…hall only a naked wall yet stands; anda black cypress throws its dark shadow on the spot where the throneonce stood。 The dust lies several feet deep on the broken pavement;and the little maiden; now the daughter of the imperial palace;often sits there on her stool when the evening bells ring。 The keyholeof the door close by she calls her turret window; through this she cansee half Rome; as far as the mighty cupola of St。 Peter's。
〃On this evening; as usual; stillness reigned around; and in thefull beam of my light came the little granddaughter。 On her head shecarried an earthen pitcher of antique shape filled with water。 Herfeet were bare; her short frock and her white sleeves were torn。 Ikissed her pretty round shoulders; her dark eyes; and black shininghair。 She mounted the stairs; they were steep; having been made upof rough blocks of broken marble and the capital of a fallen pillar。The coloured lizards slipped away; startled; from before her feet; butshe was not frightened at them。 Already she lifted her hand to pullthe door…bell… a hare's foot fastened to a string formed thebell…handle of the imperial palace。 She paused for a moment… of whatmight she be thinking? Perhaps of the beautiful Christ…child;dressed in gold and silver; which was down below in the chapel;where the silver candlesticks gleamed so bright; and where herlittle friends sung the hymns in which she also could join? I knownot。 Presently she moved again… she stumbled: the earthen vesselfell from her head; and broke on the marble steps。 She burst intotears。 The beautiful daughter of the imperial palace wept over theworthless broken pitcher; with her bare feet she stood thereweeping; and dared not pull the string; the bell…rope of theimperial palace!〃
TWENTIETH EVENING
It was more than a fortnight since the Moon had shone。 Now hestood once more; round and bright; above the clouds; moving slowlyonward。 Hear what the Moon told me。
〃From a town in Fezzan I followed a caravan。 On the margin ofthe sandy desert; in a salt plain; that shone like a frozen lake;and was only covered in spots with light drifting sand; a halt wasmade。 The eldest of the pany… the water gourd hung at his girdle;and on his head was a little bag of unleavened bread… drew a square inthe sand with his staff; and wrote in it a few words out of the Koran;and then the whole caravan passed over the consecrated spot。 A youngmerchant; a child of the East; as I could tell by his eye and hisfigure; rode pensively forward on his white snorting steed。 Was hethinking; perchance; of his fair young wife? It was only two daysago that the camel; adorned with furs and with costly shawls; hadcarried her; the beauteous bride; round the walls of the city; whiledrums and cymbals had sounded; the women sang; and festive shots; ofwhich the bridegroom fired the greatest number; resounded round thecamel; and now he was journeying with the caravan across the desert。
〃For many nights I followed the train。 I saw them rest by thewellside among the stunted palms; they thrust the knife into thebreast of the camel that had fallen; and roasted its flesh by thefire。 My beams cooled the glowing sands; and showed them the blackrocks; dead islands in the immense ocean of sand。 No hostile tribesmet them in their pathless route; no storms arose; no columns ofsand whirled destruction over the journeying caravan。 At home thebeautiful wife prayed for her husband and her father。 'Are they dead?'she asked of my golden crescent; 'Are they dead?' she cried to my fulldisc。 Now the desert lies behind them。 This evening they sit beneaththe lofty palm trees; where the crane flutters round them with itslong wings; and the pelican watches them from the branches of themimosa。 The luxuriant herbage is trampled down; crushed by the feet ofelephants。 A troop of negroes are returning from a market in theinterior of the land: the women; with copper buttons in their blackhair; and decked out in clothes dyed with indigo; drive theheavily…laden oxen; on whose backs slumber the naked black children。 Anegro leads a young lion which he has brought; by a string。 Theyapproach the caravan; the young merchant sits pensive andmotionless; thinking of his beautiful wife; dreaming; in the land ofthe blacks; of his white lily beyond the desert。 He raises his head;and… 〃 But at this moment a cloud passed before the Moon; and thenanother。 I heard nothing more from him this evening。
TWENTY…FIRST EVENING
〃I saw a little girl weeping;〃 said the Moon; 〃she was weepingover the depravity of the world。 She had received a most beautifuldoll as a present。 Oh; that was a glorious doll; so fair and delicate!She did not seem created for the sorrows of this world。 But thebrothers of the little girl; those great naughty boys; had set thedoll high up in the branches of a tree and had run away。
〃The little girl could not reach up to the doll; and could nothelp her down; and that is why she was crying。 The doll must certainlyhave been crying too; for she stretched out her arms among the greenbranches; and looked quite mournful。 Yes; these are the troubles oflife of which the little girl had often heard tell。 Alas; poor doll!it began to grow dark already; and suppose night were to e onpletely! Was she to be left sitting on the bough all night long?No; the little maid could not make up her mind to that。 'I'll staywith you;' she said; although she felt anything but happy in her mind。She could almost fancy she distinctly saw little gnomes; with theirhigh…crowned hats; sitting in the bushes; and further back in the longwalk; tall spectres appeared to be dancing。 They came nearer andnearer; and stretched out their hands towards the tree on which thedoll sat; they laughed scornfully; and pointed at her with theirfingers。 Oh; how frightened the little maid was! 'But if one has notdone anything wrong;' she thought; 'nothing evil can harm one。 Iwonder if I have done anything wrong?' And she considered。 'Oh; yes! Ilaughed at the poor duck with the red rag on her leg; she limped alongso funnily; I could not help laughing; but it's a sin to laugh atanimals。' And she looked up at the doll。 'Did you laugh at the ducktoo?' she asked; and it seemed as if the doll shook her head。〃
TWENTY…SECOND EVENING
〃I looked down upon Tyrol;〃 said the Moon; 〃and my beams causedthe dark pines to throw long shadows upon the rocks。 I looked at thepictures of St。 Christopher carrying the Infant Jesus that are paintedthere upon the walls of the houses; colossal figures reaching from theground to the roof。 St。 Florian was represented pouring water on theburning house; and the Lord hung bleeding on the great cross by thewayside。 To the present generation these are old pictures; but I sawwhen they were put up; and marked how one followed the other。 On thebrow of the mountain yonder is perched; like a swallow's nest; alonely convent of nuns。 Two of the sisters stood up in the towertolling the bell; they were both young; and therefore their glancesflew over the mountain out into the world。 A travelling coach passedby below; the postillion wound his horn; and the poor nuns lookedafter the carriage for a moment with a mournful glance; and a teargleamed in the eyes of the younger one。 And the horn sounded faint andmore faintly; and the convent bell drowned its expiring echoes。〃
TWENTY…THIRD EVENING
Hear what the Moon told me。 〃Some years ago; here in Copenhagen; Ilooked through the window of a mean little room。 The father and motherslept; but the little son was not asleep。 I saw the flowered cottoncurtains of the bed move; and the child peep forth。 At first I thoughthe was looking at the great clock; which was gaily painted in redand green。 At the top sat a cuckoo; below hung the heavy leadenweights; and the pendulum with the polished disc of metal went toand fro; and said 'tick; tick。' But no; he was not loo