I China veed Du jo nok er Keiseren en Chineser, og Alle de han har om sig ere Chinesere. Det er nu mange Aar siden, men just derfor er det værd at høre Historien, før man glemmer den!
IN China, as I daresay you know, the Emperor is a Chinaman, and all his courtiers are also Chinamen. The story I am going to tell you happened many years ago, but it is worth while for you to listen to it, before it is forgotten.
Keiserens Slot var det prægtigste i Verden, ganske og aldeles af fiint Porcelain, saa kostbart, men saa skjørt, saa vanskeligt at røre ved, at man maatte ordentlig tage sig iagt.
The Emperor’s Palace was the most splendid in the world, all made of priceless porcelain, but so brittle and delicate that you had to take great care how you touched it.
I Haven saae man de forunderligste Blomster, og ved de allerprægtigste var der bundet Sølvklokker, der klingede, for at man ikke skulde gaae forbi uden at bemærke Blomsten.
In the garden were the most beautiful flowers, and on the loveliest of them were tied silver bells which tinkled, so that if you passed you could not help looking at the flowers.
Ja, Alting var saa udspeculeret i Keiserens Have, og den strakte sig saa langt, at Gartneren selv ikke vidste Enden paa den; blev man ved at gaae, kom man i den deiligste Skov med høie Træer og dybe Søer.
Everything in the Emperor’s garden was admirably arranged with a view to effect; and the garden was so large that even the gardener himself did not know where it ended. If you ever got beyond it, you came to a stately forest with great trees and deep lakes in it.
Skoven gik lige ned til Havet, der var blaat og dybt; store Skibe kunde seile lige ind under Grenene, og i disse boede der en Nattergal, der sang saa velsignet, at selv den fattige Fisker, der havde saa meget andet at passe, laae stille og lyttede, naar han om Natten var ude at trække Fiskegarnet op og da hørte Nattergalen.
The forest sloped down to the sea, which was a clear blue. Large ships could sail under the boughs of the trees, and in these trees there lived a Nightingale.
“Herre Gud, hvor det er kjønt!” sagde han, men saa maatte han passe sine Ting og glemte Fuglen; dog næste Nat naar den igjen sang, og Fiskeren kom derud, sagde han det samme: “Herre Gud! hvor det dog er kjønt!”
She sang so beautifully that even the poor fisherman who had so much to do stood and listened when he came at night to cast his nets. ‘How beautiful it is!’ he said; but he had to attend to his work, and forgot about the bird. But when she sang the next night and the fisherman came there again, he said the same thing, ‘How beautiful it is!’
Fra alle Verdens Lande kom der Reisende til Keiserens Stad, og de beundrede den, Slottet og Haven, men naar de fik Nattergalen at høre, sagde de Allesammen: “Den er dog det bedste!”
From all the countries round came travellers to the Emperor’s town, who were astonished at the Palace and the garden. But when they heard the Nightingale they all said, ‘This is the finest thing after all!’
Og de Reisende fortalte derom, naar de kom hjem, og de Lærde skreve mange Bøger om Byen, Slottet og Haven, men Nattergalen glemte de ikke, den blev sat allerøverst; og de, som kunde digte, skrev de deiligste Digte, allesammen om Nattergalen i Skoven ved den dybe Sø.
The travellers told all about it when they went home, and learned scholars wrote many books upon the town, the Palace, and the garden. But they did not forget the Nightingale; she was praised the most, and all the poets composed splendid verses on the Nightingale in the forest by the deep sea.
De Bøger kom Verden rundt, og nogle kom da ogsaa engang til Keiseren. Han sad i sin Guldstol, læste og læste, hvert Øieblik nikkede han med Hovedet, thi det fornøiede ham at høre de prægtige Beskrivelser over Byen, Slottet og Haven. “Men Nattergalen er dog det allerbedste!” stod der skrevet.
The books were circulated throughout the world, and some of them reached the Emperor. He sat in his golden chair, and read and read. He nodded his head every moment, for he liked reading the brilliant accounts of the town, the Palace, and the garden. ‘But the Nightingale is better than all,’ he saw written.
“Hvad for Noget!” sagde Keiseren, “Nattergalen! den kjender jeg jo slet ikke! er her saadan en Fugl i mit Keiserdømme, ovenikjøbet i min Have! det har jeg aldrig hørt! saadant noget skal man læse sig til!”
‘What is that?’ said the Emperor. ‘I don’t know anything about the Nightingale! Is there such a bird in my empire, and so near as in my garden? I have never heard it! Fancy reading for the first time about it in a book!’
Og saa kaldte han paa sin Cavaleer, der var saa fornem, at naar nogen, der var ringere end han, vovede at tale til ham, eller spørge om noget, saa svarede han ikke andet, end “P!” og det har ikke noget at betyde.
And he called his First Lord to him. He was so proud that if anyone of lower rank than his own ventured to speak to him or ask him anything, he would say nothing but ‘P!’ and that does not mean anything.
“Her skal jo være en høist mærkværdig Fugl, som kaldes Nattergal!” sagde Keiseren, “man siger at den er det allerbedste i mit store Rige! hvorfor har man aldrig sagt mig noget om den!”
‘Here is a most remarkable bird which is called a Nightingale!’ said the Emperor. ‘They say it is the most glorious thing in my kingdom. Why has no one ever said anything to me about it?’
“Jeg har aldrig før hørt den nævne!” sagde Cavaleren, “den er aldrig blevet præsenteret ved Hoffet!” – “Jeg vil at den skal komme her i Aften og synge for mig!” sagde Keiseren. “Der veed hele Verden hvad jeg har, og jeg veed det ikke!” “Jeg har aldrig før hørt den nævne!” sagde Cavaleren, “jeg skal søge den, jeg skal finde den!” –
‘I have never before heard it mentioned!’ said the First Lord. ‘I will look for it and find it!’
Men hvor var den at finde; Cavaleren løb op og ned af alle Trapper, gjennem Sale og Gange, ingen af alle dem, han traf paa, havde hørt tale om Nattergalen, og Cavaleren løb igjen til Keiseren og sagde, at det vist maatte være en Fabel af dem, der skrev Bøger.
But where was it to be found? The First Lord ran up and down stairs, through the halls and corridors; but none of those he met had ever heard of the Nightingale. And the First Lord ran again to the Emperor, and told him that it must be an invention on the part of those who had written the books.
“Deres keiserlige Majestæt skal ikke troe hvad der skrives! det er Opfindelser og noget, som kaldes den sorte Kunst!”
‘Your Imperial Majesty cannot really believe all that is written! There are some inventions called the Black Art!’
“Men den Bog, hvori jeg har læst det,” sagde Keiseren, “er sendt mig fra den stormægtige Keiser af Japan, og saa kan det ikke være Usandhed. Jeg vil høre Nattergalen! den skal være her i Aften! den har min høieste Naade! og kommer den ikke, da skal hele Hoffet dunkes paa Maven, naar det har spiist Aftensmad.”
‘But the book in which I read this,’ said the Emperor, ‘is sent me by His Great Majesty the Emperor of Japan; so it cannot be untrue, and I will hear the Nightingale! She must be here this evening! She has my gracious permission to appear, and if she does not, the whole Court shall be trampled under foot after supper!’
“Tsing-pe!” sagde Cavaleren, og løb igjen op og ned af alle Trapper, gjennem alle Sale og Gange; og det halve Hof løb med, for de vilde ikke gjerne dunkes paa Maven. Der var en Spørgen efter den mærkelige Nattergal, som hele Verden kjendte, men Ingen ved Hoffet.
‘Tsing pe!’ said the First Lord; and he ran up and down stairs, through the halls and corridors, and half the Court ran with him, for they did not want to be trampled under foot. Everyone was asking after the wonderful Nightingale which all the world knew of, except those at Court.
Endelig traf de en lille, fattig Pige i Kjøkkenet, hun sagde: “O Gud, Nattergalen! den kjender jeg godt! ja, hvor den kan synge! hver Aften har jeg Lov til at bringe lidt af Levningerne fra Bordet hjem til min stakkels syge Moder, hun boer nede ved Stranden, og naar jeg saa gaaer tilbage, er træt og hviler i Skoven, saa hører jeg Nattergalen synge! jeg faaer Vandet i Øinene derved, det er ligesom om min Moder kyssede mig!”
At last they met a poor little girl in the kitchen, who said, ‘Oh! I know the Nightingale well. How she sings! I have permission to carry the scraps over from the Court meals to my poor sick mother, and when I am going home at night, tired and weary, and rest for a little in the wood, then I hear the Nightingale singing! It brings tears to my eyes, and I feel as if my mother were kissing me!’
“Lille Kokkepige!” sagde Cavaleren, “jeg skal skaffe hende fast Ansættelse i Kjøkkenet og Lov til at see Keiseren spise, dersom hun kan føre os til Nattergalen, for den er tilsagt til i Aften!” –
‘Little kitchenmaid!’ said the First Lord, ‘I will give you a place in the kitchen, and you shall have leave to see the Emperor at dinner, if you can lead us to the Nightingale, for she is invited to come to Court this evening.’
Og saa droge de Allesammen ud i Skoven, hvor Nattergalen pleiede at synge; det halve Hof var med. Som de allerbedst gik, begyndte en Ko at brøle.
And so they all went into the wood where the Nightingale was wont to sing, and half the Court went too. When they were on the way there they heard a cow mooing.
“O!” sagde Hofjunkerne, “nu har vi den! det er dog en mærkelig Kraft i et saadant lille Dyr! jeg har ganske bestemt hørt den før!” “Nei, det er Køerne, som brøle!” sagde den lille Kokkepige, “vi ere endnu langt fra Stedet!”
‘Oh!’ said the Courtiers, ‘now we have found her! What a wonderful power for such a small beast to have! I am sure we have heard her before!’ ‘No; that is a cow mooing!’ said the little kitchenmaid. ‘We are still a long way off!’
Frøerne qvækkede nu i Kjæret. “Deiligt!” sagde den chinesiske Slotsprovst, “nu hører jeg hende, det er ligesom smaa Kirkeklokker!” “Nei, det er Frøerne!” sagde den lille Kokkepige. “Men nu tænker jeg snart vi hører den!”
Then the frogs began to croak in the marsh. ‘Splendid!’ said the Chinese chaplain. ‘Now we hear her; it sounds like a little church-bell!’ ‘No, no; those are frogs!’ said the little kitchenmaid. ‘But I think we shall soon hear her now!’
Saa begyndte Nattergalen at synge. “Den er det,” sagde den lille Pige, “hør! hør! og der sidder den!” og saa pegede hun paa en lille, graa Fugl oppe i Grenene.
Then the Nightingale began to sing. ‘There she is!’ cried the little girl. ‘Listen! She is sitting there!’ And she pointed to a little dark-grey bird up in the branches.
“Er det muligt!” sagde Cavaleren, “saaledes havde jeg nu aldrig tænkt mig den! hvor den seer simpel ud! den har vist mistet Couleur over at see saa mange fornemme Mennesker hos sig!”
‘Is it possible!’ said the First Lord. ‘I should never have thought it! How ordinary she looks! She must surely have lost her feathers because she sees so many distinguished men round her!’
“Lille Nattergal!” raabte den lille Kokkepige ganske høit, “vor naadige Keiser vil saa gjerne, at De skal synge for ham!” “Med største Fornøielse!” sagde Nattergalen og sang, saa at det var en Lyst.
‘Little Nightingale,’ called out the little kitchenmaid, ‘our Gracious Emperor wants you to sing before him!’ ‘With the greatest of pleasure!’ said the Nightingale; and she sang so gloriously that it was a pleasure to listen.
“Det er ligesom Glasklokker!” sagde Cavaleren, “og see den lille Strube, hvor den bruger sig! det er mærkværdigt vi aldrig har hørt den før! den vil gjøre en stor succès ved Hoffet!”
‘It sounds like glass bells!’ said the First Lord. ‘And look how her little throat works! It is wonderful that we have never heard her before! She will be a great success at Court.’
“Skal jeg synge endnu engang for Keiseren?” spurgte Nattergalen, der troede at Keiseren var med. “Min fortræffelige lille Nattergal!” sagde Cavaleren, “jeg har den store Glæde at skulle tilsige Dem til en Hoffest i Aften, hvor De vil fortrylle hans høie keiserlige Naade med Deres charmante Sang!”
‘Shall I sing once more for the Emperor?’ asked the Nightingale, thinking that the Emperor was there. ‘My esteemed little Nightingale,’ said the First Lord, ‘I have the great pleasure to invite you to Court this evening, where His Gracious Imperial Highness will be enchanted with your charming song!’
“Den tager sig bedst ud i det Grønne!” sagde Nattergalen, men den fulgte dog gjerne med, da den hørte, at Keiseren ønskede det.
‘It sounds best in the green wood,’ said the Nightingale; but still, she came gladly when she heard that the Emperor wished it.
Paa Slottet var der ordentligt pudset op! Vægge og Gulv, der var af Porcelain, skinnede ved mange tusinde Guldlamper! de deiligste Blomster, som ret kunde klinge, vare stillede op i Gangene; der var en Løben og en Trækvind, men saa klang just alle Klokkerne, man kunde ikke høre Ørelyd.
At the Palace everything was splendidly prepared. The porcelain walls and floors glittered in the light of many thousand gold lamps; the most gorgeous flowers which tinkled out well were placed in the corridors. There was such a hurrying and draught that all the bells jingled so much that one could not hear oneself speak.
Midt inde i den store Sal, hvor Keiseren sad, var der stillet en Guldpind, og paa den skulde Nattergalen sidde; hele Hoffet var der, og den lille Kokkepige havde faaet Lov til at staae bag ved Døren, da hun nu havde Titel af virkelig Kokkepige. Alle vare de i deres største Pynt, og alle saae de paa den lille graae Fugl, som Keiseren nikkede til.
In the centre of the great hall where the Emperor sat was a golden perch, on which the Nightingale sat. The whole Court was there, and the little kitchenmaid was allowed to stand behind the door, now that she was a Court-cook. Everyone was dressed in his best, and everyone was looking towards the little grey bird to whom the Emperor nodded.
Og Nattergalen sang saa deiligt, at Keiseren fik Taarer i Øinene, Taarerne trillede ham ned over Kinderne, og da sang Nattergalen endnu smukkere, det gik ret til Hjertet; og Keiseren var saa glad, og han sagde, at Nattergalen skulde have hans Guldtøffel at bære om Halsen. Men Nattergalen takkede, den havde allerede faaet Belønning nok.
The Nightingale sang so gloriously that the tears came into the Emperor’s eyes and ran down his cheeks. Then the Nightingale sang even more beautifully; it went straight to all hearts. The Emperor was so delighted that he said she should wear his gold slipper round her neck. But the Nightingale thanked him, and said she had had enough reward already.
“Jeg har seet Taarer i Øinene paa Keiseren, det er mig den rigeste Skat! en Keisers Taarer har en forunderlig Magt! Gud veed, jeg er nok belønnet!” og saa sang den igjen med sin søde, velsignede Stemme.
‘I have seen tears in the Emperor’s eyes—that is a great reward. An Emperor’s tears have such power!’ Then she sang again with her gloriously sweet voice.
“Det er det elskeligste Koketteri jeg kjender!” sagde Damerne rundtom, og saa toge de Vand i Munden for at klukke, naar nogen talte til dem: de troede da ogsaa at være Nattergaler; ja Laqvaierne og Kammerpigerne lode mælde, at ogsaa de vare tilfredse, og det vil sige meget, thi de ere de allervanskeligste at gjøre tilpas. Jo, Nattergalen gjorde rigtignok Lykke!
‘That is the most charming coquetry I have ever seen!’ said all the ladies round. And they all took to holding water in their mouths that they might gurgle whenever anyone spoke to them. Then they thought themselves nightingales. Yes, the lackeys and chambermaids announced that they were pleased; which means a great deal, for they are the most difficult people of all to satisfy. In short, the Nightingale was a real success.
Den skulde nu blive ved Hoffet, have sit eget Buur, samt Frihed til at spadsere ud to Gange om Dagen og een Gang om Natten. Den fik tolv Tjenere med, alle havde de et Silkebaand om Benet paa den og holdt godt fast. Der var slet ingen Fornøielse ved den Tour.
She had to stay at Court now; she had her own cage, and permission to walk out twice in the day and once at night. She was given twelve servants, who each held a silken string which was fastened round her leg. There was little pleasure in flying about like this.
Hele Byen talte om den mærkværdige Fugl, og mødte to hinanden, saa sagde den Ene ikke andet end: “Nat-!” og den Anden sagde “gal!” og saa sukkede de og forstode hinanden, ja elleve Spekhøkerbørn bleve opkaldte efter den, men ikke een af dem havde en Tone i Livet. –
The whole town was talking about the wonderful bird, and when two people met each other one would say ‘Nightin,’ and the other ‘Gale,’ and then they would both sigh and understand one another. Yes, and eleven grocer’s children were called after her, but not one of them could sing a note.
En Dag kom en stor Pakke til Keiseren, udenpaa stod skrevet: Nattergal.
One day the Emperor received a large parcel on which was written ‘The Nightingale.’
“Der har vi nu en ny Bog om vor berømte Fugl!” sagde Keiseren;
‘Here is another new book about our famous bird!’ said the Emperor.
men det var ingen Bog, det var et lille Kunststykke der laae i en Æske, en kunstig Nattergal, der skulde ligne den levende, men var overalt besat med Diamanter, Rubiner og Saphirer;
But it was not a book, but a little mechanical toy, which lay in a box—an artificial nightingale which was like the real one, only that it was set all over with diamonds, rubies, and sapphires.
saasnart man trak Kunstfuglen op, kunde den synge et af de Stykker, den virkelige sang, og saa gik Halen op og ned og glindsede af Sølv og Guld. Om Halsen hang et lille Baand, og paa det stod skrevet: “Keiseren af Japans Nattergal er fattig imod Keiserens af China.”
When it was wound up, it could sing the piece the real bird sang, and moved its tail up and down, and glittered with silver and gold. Round its neck was a little collar on which was written, ‘The Nightingale of the Emperor of Japan is nothing compared to that of the Emperor of China.’
“Det er deiligt!” sagde de allesammen, og den, som havde bragt den kunstige Fugl, fik strax Titel af Over-keiserlig-nattergale-bringer. “Nu maae de synge sammen! hvor det vil blive en Duet!”
‘This is magnificent!’ they all said, and the man who had brought the clockwork bird received on the spot the title of ‘Bringer of the Imperial First Nightingale.’ ‘Now they must sing together; what a duet we shall have!’
Og saa maatte de synge sammen, men det vilde ikke rigtig gaae, thi den virkelige Nattergal sang paa sin Maneer, og Kunstfuglen gik paa Valser; “den har ingen Skyld,” sagde Spillemesteren, “den er særdeles taktfast og ganske af min Skole!”
And so they sang together, but their voices did not blend, for the real Nightingale sang in her way and the clockwork bird sang waltzes. ‘It is not its fault!’ said the bandmaster; ‘it keeps very good time and is quite after my style!’
Saa skulde Kunstfuglen synge alene. – Den gjorde ligesaa megen Lykke som den virkelige, og saa var den jo ogsaa saa meget mere nydelig at see paa: den glimrede som Armbaand og Brystnaale.
Then the artificial bird had to sing alone. It gave just as much pleasure as the real one, and then it was so much prettier to look at; it sparkled like bracelets and necklaces.
Tre og tredive Gange sang den eet og det samme Stykke, og den var dog ikke træt; Folk havde gjerne hørt den forfra igjen, men Keiseren meente, at nu skulde ogsaa den levende Nattergal synge lidt — men hvor var den? Ingen havde bemærket, at den var fløiet ud af det aabne Vindue, bort til sine grønne Skove.
Three-and-thirty times it sang the same piece without being tired. People would like to have heard it again, but the Emperor thought that the living Nightingale should sing now—but where was she? No one had noticed that she had flown out of the open window away to her green woods.
“Men hvad er dog det for noget!” sagde Keiseren; og alle Hoffolkene skjændte og meente, at Nattergalen var et høist utaknemmeligt Dyr. “Den bedste Fugl have vi dog!”
‘What shall we do!’ said the Emperor. And all the Court scolded, and said that the Nightingale was very ungrateful. ‘But we have still the best bird!’
sagde de, og saa maatte igjen Kunstfuglen synge, og det var den fire og tredivte Gang de fik det samme Stykke, men de kunde det ikke heelt endnu, for det var saa svært, og Spillemesteren roste saa overordentlig Fuglen, ja forsikkrede, at den var bedre end den virkelige Nattergal, ikke blot hvad Klæderne angik og de mange deilige Diamanter, men ogsaa indvortes.
they said and the artificial bird had to sing again, and that was the thirty-fourth time they had heard the same piece. But they did not yet know it by heart; it was much too difficult.
“Thi seer De, mine Herskaber, Keiseren fremfor Alle! hos den virkelige Nattergal kan man aldrig beregne, hvad der vil komme, men hos Kunstfuglen er Alt bestemt! saaledes bliver det og ikke anderledes! man kan gjøre rede for det, man kan sprætte den op og vise den menneskelige Tænkning, hvorledes Valserne ligge, hvorledes de gaae, og hvordan det ene følger af det andet –!”
And the bandmaster praised the bird tremendously; yes, he assured them it was better than a real nightingale, not only because of its beautiful plumage and diamonds, but inside as well. ‘For see, my Lords and Ladies and your Imperial Majesty, with the real Nightingale one can never tell what will come out, but all is known about the artificial bird! You can explain it, you can open it and show people where the waltzes lie, how they go, and how one follows the other!’
“Det er ganske mine Tanker!” sagde de Allesammen, og Spillemesteren fik Lov til, næste Søndag, at holde Fuglen frem for Folket; de skulde ogsaa høre den synge, sagde Keiseren;
‘That’s just what we think!’ said everyone; and the bandmaster received permission to show the bird to the people the next Sunday. They should hear it sing, commanded the Emperor.
og de hørte den, og de bleve saa fornøiede, som om de havde drukket sig lystige i Theevand, for det er nu saa ganske chinesisk, og Alle sagde da “o!” og stak i Veiret den Finger, man kalder “Slikpot,” og saa nikkede de; men de fattige Fiskere, som havde hørt den virkelige Nattergal, sagde: “det klinger smukt nok, det ligner ogsaa, men der mangler noget, jeg veed ikke hvad!”
And they heard it, and they were as pleased as if they had been intoxicated with tea, after the Chinese fashion, and they all said ‘Oh!’ and held up their forefingers and nodded time. But the poor fishermen who had heard the real Nightingale said: ‘This one sings well enough, the tunes glide out; but there is something wanting— I don’t know what!’
Den virkelige Nattergal var forviist fra Land og Rige.
The real Nightingale was banished from the kingdom.
Kunstfuglen havde sin Plads paa en Silkepude tæt ved Keiserens Seng; alle de Presenter, den havde faaet, Guld og Ædelstene, laae rundt omkring den, og i Titel var den steget til “Høikeiserlig Natbord-Sanger,” i Rang Nummer eet til venstre Side, for Keiseren regnede den Side for at være mest fornem, paa hvilken Hjertet sad, og Hjertet sidder til Venstre ogsaa hos en Keiser.
The artificial bird was put on silken cushions by the Emperor’s bed, all the presents which it received, gold and precious stones, lay round it, and it was given the title of Imperial Night-singer, First from the left. For the Emperor counted that side as the more distinguished, being the side on which the heart is; the Emperor’s heart is also on the left.
Og Spillemesteren skrev fem og tyve Bind om Kunstfuglen, det var saa lærd og saa langt, og med de allersværeste chinesiske Ord, saa alle Folk sagde, at de havde læst og forstaaet det, for ellers havde de jo været dumme og vare da blevne dunkede paa Maven.
And the bandmaster wrote a work of twenty-five volumes about the artificial bird. It was so learned, long, and so full of the hardest Chinese words that everyone said they had read it and understood it;
Saaledes gik der et heelt Aar; Keiseren, Hoffet og alle de andre Chinesere kunde udenad hvert lille Kluk i Kunstfuglens Sang, men just derfor syntes de nu allerbedst om den; de kunde selv synge med, og det gjorde de. Gadedrengene sang “zizizi! klukklukkluk!” og Keiseren sang det –! jo det var bestemt deiligt!
for once they had been very stupid about a book, and had been trampled under foot in consequence. So a whole year passed. The Emperor, the Court, and all the Chinese knew every note of the artificial bird’s song by heart. But they liked it all the better for this; they could even sing with it, and they did. The street boys sang ‘Tra-la-la-la-la,’ and the Emperor sang too sometimes. It was indeed delightful.
Men en Aften, som Kunstfuglen bedst sang, og Keiseren laae i Sengen og hørte paa den, sagde det “svup!” inden i Fuglen; der sprang noget: “surrrrrr!” alle Hjulene løb rundt, og saa stod Musiken.
But one evening, when the artificial bird was singing its best, and the Emperor lay in bed listening to it, something in the bird went crack. Something snapped! Whir-r-r! all the wheels ran down and then the music ceased.
Keiseren sprang strax ud af Sengen og lod sin Livlæge kalde, men hvad kunde han hjælpe!
The Emperor sprang up, and had his physician summoned, but what could he do!
saa lod de Uhrmageren hente, og efter megen Tale og megen Seenefter, fik han Fuglen nogenlunde istand, men han sagde, at der maatte spares meget paa den, thi den var saa forslidt i Tapperne og det var ikke muligt at sætte nye, saaledes at det gik sikkert med Musikken.
Then the clockmaker came, and, after a great deal of talking and examining, he put the bird somewhat in order, but he said that it must be very seldom used as the works were nearly worn out, and it was impossible to put in new ones.
Det var en stor Bedrøvelse! kun een Gang om Aaret turde man lade Kunstfuglen synge, og det var strængt nok endda; men saa holdt Spillemesteren en lille Tale med de svære Ord og sagde, at det var ligesaa godt, som før, og saa var det ligesaa godt som før.
Here was a calamity! Only once a year was the artificial bird allowed to sing, and even that was almost too much for it. But then the bandmaster made a little speech full of hard words, saying that it was just as good as before.
Nu vare fem Aar gaaet, og hele Landet fik en rigtig stor Sorg, thi de holdt i Grunden Allesammen af deres Keiser; nu var han syg og kunde ikke leve, sagde man, en ny Keiser var allerede valgt, og Folk stode ude paa Gaden og spurgte Cavaleren hvorledes det var med deres Keiser. “P!” sagde han og rystede med Hovedet.
And so, of course, it was just as good as before. So five years passed, and then a great sorrow came to the nation. The Chinese look upon their Emperor as everything, and now he was ill, and not likely to live it was said. Already a new Emperor had been chosen, and the people stood outside in the street and asked the First Lord how the old Emperor was. ‘P!’ said he, and shook his head.
Kold og bleg laae Keiseren i sin store, prægtige Seng, hele Hoffet troede ham død, og enhver af dem løb hen for at hilse paa den nye Keiser; Kammertjenerne løbe ud for at snakke om det, og Slotspigerne havde stort Caffeselskab.
Cold and pale lay the Emperor in his splendid great bed; the whole Court believed him dead, and one after the other left him to pay their respects to the new Emperor.
Rundtom i alle Sale og Gange var lagt Klæde, for at man ikke skulde høre Nogen gaae, og derfor var der saa stille, saa stille.
Everywhere in the halls and corridors cloth was laid down so that no footstep could be heard, and everything was still—very, very still. And nothing came to break the silence.
Men Keiseren var endnu ikke død; stiv og bleg laae han i den prægtige Seng med de lange Fløielsgardiner og de tunge Guldqvaste; høit oppe stod et Vindue aabent, og Maanen skinnede ind paa Keiseren og Kunstfuglen.
The Emperor longed for something to come and relieve the monotony of this deathlike stillness. If only someone would speak to him! If only someone would sing to him. Music would carry his thoughts away, and would break the spell lying on him. The moon was streaming in at the open window;
Den stakkels Keiser kunde næsten ikke trække Veiret, det var ligesom om der sad noget paa hans Bryst; han slog Øinene op, og da saae han, at det var Døden, der sad paa hans Bryst og havde taget hans Guldkrone paa, og holdt i den ene Haand Keiserens Guldsabel, i den anden hans prægtige Fane; og rundtom i Folderne af de store Fløiels Sengegardiner stak der forunderlige Hoveder frem, nogle ganske fæle, andre saa velsignede milde: det var alle Keiserens onde og gode Gjerninger, der saae paa ham, nu da Døden sad paa hans Hjerte:
but that, too, was silent, quite silent.
“Husker Du det?” hviskede den ene efter den anden. “Husker Du det!” og saa fortalte de ham saa meget, saa at Sveden sprang ham ud af Panden.
‘Music!
“Det har jeg aldrig vidst!” sagde Keiseren; “Musik, Musik, den store chinesiske Tromme!” raabte han, “at jeg dog ikke skal høre alt det, de sige!” Og de bleve ved, og Døden nikkede ligesom en Chineser ved alt, hvad der blev sagt. “Musik, Musik!” skreg Keiseren. “Du lille velsignede Guldfugl! syng dog, syng! jeg har givet Dig Guld og Kostbarheder, jeg har selv hængt Dig min Guldtøffel om Halsen, syng dog, syng!”
music!’ cried the Emperor. ‘You little bright golden bird, sing! do sing! I gave you gold and jewels; I have hung my gold slipper round your neck with my own hand—sing! do sing!’
Men Fuglen stod stille, der var Ingen til at trække den op, og ellers sang den ikke; men Døden blev ved at see paa Keiseren med sine store, tomme Øienhuler, og der var saa stille, saa skrækkeligt stille.
But the bird was silent. There was no one to wind it up, and so it could not sing. And all was silent, so terribly silent!
Da lød i det samme, tæt ved Vinduet, den deiligste Sang: det var den lille, levende Nattergal, der sad paa Grenen udenfor; den havde hørt om sin Keisers Nød, og var derfor kommet at synge ham Trøst og Haab;
All at once there came in at the window the most glorious burst of song. It was the little living Nightingale, who, sitting outside on a bough, had heard the need of her Emperor and had come to sing to him of comfort and hope.
og alt som den sang, bleve Skikkelserne mere og mere blege, Blodet kom raskere og raskere i Gang i Keiserens svage Lemmer, og Døden selv lyttede og sagde: “bliv ved lille Nattergal! bliv ved!”
And as she sang the blood flowed quicker and quicker in the Emperor’s weak limbs, and life began to return. ‘Thank you, thank you!’ said the Emperor.
“Ja vil Du give mig den prægtige Guldsabel! ja vil Du give mig den rige Fane! vil Du give mig Keiserens Krone!”
‘You divine little bird!
Og Døden gav hvert Klenodie for en Sang, og Nattergalen blev ved endnu at synge, og den sang om den stille Kirkegaard, hvor de hvide Roser groe, hvor Hyldetræet dufter, og hvor det friske Græs vandes af de Efterlevendes Taarer; da fik Døden Længsel efter sin Have og svævede, som en kold, hvid Taage, ud af Vinduet. “Tak, Tak!” sagde Keiseren, “Du himmelske lille Fugl, jeg kjender Dig nok! Dig har jeg jaget fra mit Land og Rige! og dog har Du sjunget de onde Syner fra min Seng, faaet Døden fra mit Hjerte! Hvorledes skal jeg lønne Dig?”
I know you. I chased you from my kingdom, and you have given me life again! How can I reward you?’
“Du har lønnet mig!” sagde Nattergalen, “jeg har faaet Taarer af Dine Øine første Gang jeg sang, det glemmer jeg Dig aldrig! det er de Juveler, der gjør et Sanger-Hjerte godt –! men sov nu og bliv frisk og stærk! jeg skal synge for Dig!” Og den sang – og Keiseren faldt i en sød Søvn, saa mild og velgjørende var Søvnen.
‘You have done that already!’ said the Nightingale. ‘I brought tears to your eyes the first time I sang. I shall never forget that. They are jewels that rejoice a singer’s heart. But now sleep and get strong again; I will sing you a lullaby.’ And the Emperor fell into a deep, calm sleep as she sang.
Solen skinnede ind af Vinduerne til ham, da han vaagnede styrket og sund; ingen af hans Tjenere vare endnu komne tilbage, thi de troede, han var død, men Nattergalen sad endnu og sang.
The true Nightingale sings to the Emperor The sun was shining through the window when he awoke, strong and well. None of his servants had come back yet, for they thought he was dead. But the Nightingale sat and sang to him.
“Altid maa Du blive hos mig!” sagde Keiseren, “Du skal kun synge, naar Du selv vil, og Kunstfuglen slaaer jeg i tusinde Stykker.”
‘You must always stay with me!’ said the Emperor. ‘You shall sing whenever you like, and I will break the artificial bird into a thousand pieces.’
“Gjør ikke det!” sagde Nattergalen, “den har jo gjort det Gode, den kunde! behold den som altid! jeg kan ikke bygge og boe paa Slottet, men lad mig komme, naar jeg selv har Lyst, da vil jeg om Aftenen sidde paa Grenen der ved Vinduet og synge for Dig, at Du kan blive glad og tankefuld tillige!
‘Don’t do that!’ said the Nightingale. ‘He did his work as long as he could. Keep him as you have done! I cannot build my nest in the Palace and live here; but let me come whenever I like.
jeg skal synge om de Lykkelige, og om dem, som lide! jeg skal synge om Ondt og Godt, der rundtom Dig holdes skjult!
I will sit in the evening on the bough outside the window, and I will sing you something that will make you feel happy and grateful, I will sing of joy, and of sorrow; I will sing of the evil and the good which lies hidden from you.
den lille Sangfugl flyver vidt omkring til den fattige Fisker, til Bondemandens Tag, til hver, der er langt fra Dig og Dit Hof! jeg elsker Dit Hjerte meer end Din Krone, og dog har Kronen en Duft af noget Helligt om sig! – jeg kommer, jeg synger for Dig! – men eet maa Du love mig!” –
The little singing-bird flies all around, to the poor fisherman’s hut, to the farmer’s cottage, to all those who are far away from you and your Court. I love your heart more than your crown, though that has about it a brightness as of something holy. Now I will sing to you again; but you must promise me one thing—’
– “Alt!” sagde Keiseren, og stod der i sin keiserlige Dragt, som han selv havde iført sig og holdt Sabelen, der var tung af Guld, op mod sit Hjerte.
‘Anything!’ said the Emperor, standing up in his Imperial robes, which he had himself put on, and fastening on his sword richly embossed with gold.
“Eet beder jeg Dig om! fortæl Ingen, at Du har en lille Fugl, der siger Dig Alt, saa vil det gaae endnu bedre!” Og da fløi Nattergalen bort. Tjenerne kom ind for at see til deres døde Keiser; — jo der stode de, og Keiseren sagde: “god Morgen!”
‘One thing I beg of you! Don’t tell anyone that you have a little bird who tells you everything. It will be much better not to!’ Then the Nightingale flew away. The servants came in to look at their dead Emperor. The Emperor said, ‘Good-morning!’
