安徒生童话:教父的画册

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所属分类:民间故事

干爸爸会讲故事,讲得又多又长。他还能剪纸和绘画。在圣诞节快要到来的时候,他就拿出一本用干净的白纸订成的剪贴簿,把他从书上和报上剪下来的图画都贴上去。如果他没有足够的图画来说明他所要讲的故事,就自己画出几张来。我小时候曾经得到过好几本这样的画册,不过最好看的一本是关于“哥本哈根用瓦斯代替老油灯的那个值得纪念的一年”——这就是写在第一页上的标题。

“这本画册必须好好地保存着,”爸爸和妈妈说。“你只有在很重要的场合才能把它拿出来。”

但是干爸爸在封面上却是这样写着:

即使把这本书撕破也没有什么重要,

许多别的小朋友干的事情比这还糟。

最好玩的是干爸爸亲自把这本书拿出来,念出里面的诗句和其他的说明,并且还讲出一套大道理。这时故事就要变成真事了。

第一页上是从《飞行邮报》上剪下的一张画。你可以从这张画上看到哥本哈根、圆塔和圣母院教堂。在这张画的左边贴着一张关于旧灯的画,上面写着“鲸油”;在右边贴着一张关于吊灯的画,上面写的“瓦斯”。

“你着,这就是标题页,”干爸爸说。“这就是你要听的故事的开头。它也可以说是一出戏,如果你会演的话:‘鲸油和瓦斯——或哥本哈根的生活和工作’。这是一个非常好的标题!在这一页的下面还有一张小图画。这张画可不容易懂,因此我得解释给你听。这是一匹地狱马①,它应该是在书后面出现的,但是却跑到书前面来了,为的是要说:开头、中间和结间都不好。也许只有它来办这件事情才算是最理想的——如果它办得到的话。我可以告诉你,这匹地狱马白天是拴在报纸上的,而且正如大家所说的,在专栏中兜圈子。不过在晚上它就溜出来,呆在诗人的门外,发出嘶鸣声,使住在里面的人立刻就死去——但是假如这个人身体里有真正的生命,他是不会死去的。地狱马差不多永远是一个可怜的动物;他不了解自己,老是弄不到饭吃。它只有到处嘶鸣才找得到一点空气和食物来维持生命。我相信它不会喜欢干爸爸的画册的,虽然如此,它毕竟还值得占用这一页纸。

①地狱马(Helhest)是北欧神话中掌据死亡的女神。她的外貌像一匹没有头的马,只有一只后腿。据说人一看见她就会死亡。

“这就是这本书的第一页,也就是标题页!”

这正是油灯亮着的最后一晚。街上已经有了瓦斯灯。这种灯非常明亮,把许多老油灯弄得一点儿光彩也没有。

“我那天晚上就在街上,”干爸爸说。“大家在街上走来走去,看这新旧两种灯。人很多,而腿和脑袋更要多一倍。守夜人哭丧着脸站在一旁。他们不知道自己会在什么时候像油灯一样被取消掉。他们把过去的事情回想得很远,因此就不敢想将来的事情了。他们想起许多安静的黄昏和黑暗的夜。我正靠着一个路灯杆站着,”干爸爸说,“油和灯心正在发出吱吱的声音。我听到灯所讲的话,你现在也可以听听。”

“我们能做到的事,我们全都做了,”灯说。“我们对我们的时代已经做了足够的工作。我们照着快乐的事情,也照着悲哀的事情。我们亲眼看见过许多重大的事情。我们可以说我们曾经是哥本哈根的夜眼睛。现在让新的亮光来接我们的班,来执行我们的职务吧。不过他们能够照多少年,能够照出一些什么事情来,这倒要看他们的表现了。比起我们这些老灯来,他们当然是要亮得多。但是这并不是什么了不起的事情,特别是因为他们被装成了瓦斯灯,有那么多的联系,彼此都相通!他们四面八方都有管子,在城里城外都可以得到支援!但是我们每盏油灯只是凭着自己的力量发出光来的,并没有什么裙带关系。我们和我们的祖先在许许多多年以前,不知把哥本哈根照亮了多么久。不过今天是我们发亮的最后一晚,而且跟你们——闪耀的朋友——一起站在街上,我们处于一个所谓次等的地位。但是我们并不生气或嫉妒。不,完全不是这样,我们很高兴,很愉快。我们是一些年老的哨兵,现在有了穿着比我们更漂亮的制服的兵士来接班。现在我们可以把我们的家族——一直到我们18代的老祖母灯——所看到和经历过的事情统统都告诉你们:整个哥本哈根的历史。有一天你们也要交班的,那时我希望你们和你们的后代,直到最后一盏瓦斯灯,也有我们这样的经验,同时也能讲出像我们这样惊人的事情来。你们会交班的,你们最好做些准备吧!人类一定会发现比瓦斯还要强烈的光来的。我听到一个学生说过,人类有一天可能把海水拿来点灯呢。

当油灯正说着这些话的时候,灯芯就发出吱吱的声音来,好像它里面真的有水一样。

干爸爸仔细地听。他想了想,觉得老街灯要在这个从油灯换成瓦斯灯的新旧交替之夜里,把整个哥本哈根的历史都叙述展览出来,非常有道理。“有道理的事情不能让它滑过去,”干爸爸说。“我马上就把它记住,回到家里来,为你编好这本画册。它里面的故事比这些灯所讲的还要老。

“这就是画册;这就是‘哥本哈根的生活和工作’的故事。它是从黑暗开始——漆黑的一页:它就是黑暗时代。”

“现在我们翻一页吧!”干爸爸说。

“你看到这些图画了没有?只有波涛汹涌的大海和狂暴的东北风在号叫。它推动着大块的浮冰。除了从挪威的石山上滚下来的大石块以外,冰上没有什么人在航行。北风把冰块向前吹,因为他故意要让德国的山岳看到,北国该有多么庞大的石块。整队的浮冰已经流到瑟兰海岸外的松德海峡,哥本哈根就在这个岛上,但是那时哥本哈根并不存在。那时只有一大块浸在水底下的沙洲。这一大堆浮冰和一些庞大的石块在沙洲上搁浅了。这整堆的浮冰再也移动不了。东北风没有办法使它再浮起来,因此他气愤得不可开交。他诅咒着这沙洲,把它称为‘贼地’。他发誓说,假如它有一天从海底露出来,它上面一定会住着贼和强盗,一定会竖立起绞架和轮子。

“但是当他正在这样诅咒和发誓的时候,太阳就出来了。太阳光中有许多光明和温柔的精灵——光的孩子——在飞翔。他们在这寒冷的浮冰上跳舞,使得这些浮冰融化。那些庞大的石块就沉到多沙的海底去了。

“‘这混蛋太阳!’北风说。‘他们是有交情呢,还是有亲族关系?我要记住这事情,将来要报仇!我要诅咒!’

“‘我们却要祝福!’光的孩子们唱着。‘沙洲要升起来,我们要保护它!真、善、美将要住在它上面!’

“‘完全是胡说八道!’东北风说。

“你要知道,对于这件事情,灯没有什么话可说,”干爸爸说。“不过我全知道。这对于哥本哈根的生活和工作是非常重要的。”

“现在我们再翻一页吧!”干爸爸说。“许多年过去了。沙洲冒出水面了。一只水鸟立在冒出水面的一块最大的石头上。你可以在图画里看见它。又有许多年过去了。海水把许多死鱼冲到沙洲上来。坚韧的芦苇长出来了,萎谢了,腐烂了,这使土地也变得肥沃起来。接着许多不同种类的草和植物也长出来了。沙洲成了一个绿岛。威金人就在这儿登陆,因为这儿有平地可以作战,同时瑟兰海岸外的这个岛也是一个良好的船只停泊处。

“我相信,最初的一盏油灯被点起来,完全是因为人们要在它上面烤鱼的缘故。那时的鱼才多呢。鲜鱼成群地从松德海峡游过来;要想把船在它们上面推过去真是非常困难。它们像闪电似地在水里闪耀着;它们像北极光似地在海底燃烧。松德海峡里藏着大量的鱼,因此人们就在瑟兰沿岸建筑起房子来:房子的墙是用林村做的,房子的顶是用树皮盖的。人们所需要的树简直用不完。船只开进海港里来;油灯悬在摇摆的绳子上。东北风在吹,在唱着歌:‘呼——呼——呼!’假如岛上点起一盏灯的话,那么这就是盗贼的灯:私运贩子和盗贼就在这个‘贼岛’上进行他们的活动。

“‘我相信,我所希望的那些坏事将会在这个岛上发生,’东北风说。‘树马上就要长出来;我可以从它上面摇下果实。’

“树就在这儿,”干爸爸说。“你没有看到这‘贼岛’上的绞架么?被铁链子套着的强盗和杀人犯就吊在那上面,跟往时一模一样。风把这些长串的骸骨吹得格格地响,但是月亮却沉静地照着它们,正如它现在照着人跳乡村舞蹈一样。太阳也在愉快地照着,把那些悬着的骸骨打散。光的孩子在太阳光中唱着歌:‘我们知道!我们知道!在不久的将来,这儿将是一块美丽的地方,一块又好又漂亮的地方!’

“‘这简直像小鸡讲的话!’东北风说。

“我们再翻一页吧!”干爸爸说。

“罗斯基勒①这个小镇的教堂的钟声响起来了。亚卜萨龙主教②就住在这儿。他既能读《圣经》,也能使剑。他既有威力,也有决心。这个小镇在不断地发展,现在变成了一个商业中心。亚卜萨龙保护这个港口的一些忙碌的渔人,免得他们受到侵略。他在这个污秽的土地上洒了圣水:‘贼地’算是得到了一次光荣的洗礼。石匠和木匠开始工作,在主教的指挥下,一幢建筑物出现了,当那些红墙筑起来的时候,太阳光就吻着它们。这就是‘亚克塞尔之家’。

①罗斯基勒是位于丹麦西兰岛东北部的一个港口。

②亚克塞尔·亚卜萨龙(Axel Absalon,1128~1201)是丹麦的一个将军、政治家和大主教。他曾经多次打退外国人的侵略。

有塔的宫殿,非常庄严;

有台阶,有阳台;

呼!嘘!

东北风怒气冲冲吹呀!扫呀!

宫堡仍然屹立不动!

“宫堡外面就是‘海坟’①——商人的港口。

人鱼姑娘的闺房,

在海上绿林的中央。②

①“海坟”是丹麦文Havn一字的译音,指哥本哈根,因为这个城的名字在丹麦文里是Kobenhavn(买卖的港口)。

②这几句诗是从丹麦诗人格兰特维格(N. F. S. Grundtvig,1783~1872)的作品中引来的。

“外国人到这儿来买鱼,同时搭起棚子,建筑房屋。这些房屋的窗上都镶着膀胱皮,因为玻璃太贵。不久以后,具有山形墙和起锚机的栈房也建立起来了。你瞧吧,这些店里坐着许多老单身汉。他们不敢结婚;他们做生姜和胡椒的买卖——他们这些‘胡椒绅士’!

“东北风在大街小巷里吹,扬起许多灰尘,有时把草扎的屋顶也掀开了。母牛和猪在街上的沟里走来走去。

“‘我要吓唬他们,降服他们,’东北风说。‘我要在那些房子上吹,在“亚克塞尔之家”上吹。我决不会弄错的!人们把它叫做贼岛上的“死刑堡”。”’

于是干爸爸指着一张图画——这是他亲手画的:墙上插着一行一行的柱子,每根柱子上挂着一个俘虏来的海盗的露出牙齿的脑袋。

“这都是真事,”干爸爸说。“这是值得知道的;能够理解它也有益处。

“亚卜萨龙主教正在浴室里,他隔着薄墙听到外边有海盗到来,便马上从澡盆里跳出来,跑到他的船上,吹起号角,他的水手立刻就都来了。箭射进这些海盗的背上。他们拼命摇着桨,想逃命。箭射进他们的手,他们连拔出的工夫都没有。亚卜萨龙主教把海盗一个个都活捉过来,砍掉脑袋,然后把这些脑袋挂在城堡的外墙上。东北风鼓起腮来吹,满嘴含着坏天气——正如水手说的一样。

“‘我要在这儿摊开四肢,’风儿说。‘我要躺在这儿瞧瞧这全部把戏。’

“他躺了好几个小时,吹了好几天。许多年过去了。”

“守塔人在塔门口出现了;他看看东方,看看酉方,看看南方和北方。你可以在图画里看到他这副样儿,”干爸爸说,同时用手指着:“你看他就在那儿。不过他看到了一些什么东西,我一会儿再告诉你。

“‘死刑堡’的墙外是一片汪洋大海——它一直伸展到却格湾。这条通到西兰的海峡是很宽的。塞里斯勒夫草场上和索尔堡草场①上有许多村庄。在它们前面,一个由许多具有山形墙的木房子所组成的新城市渐渐发展起来了。有好几条街全是住着鞋匠、裁缝、杂货商人和啤酒商人;此外还有一个市场,一个同业公会的会所;在曾经是一个小岛的海边上现在还有一座美丽的圣尼古拉教堂。这教堂有一个非常高的尖塔——它的倒影映在清亮的水里是多么清楚啊!离这儿不远是圣母院,人们在这里念着和唱着弥撒,焚着芬芳的香,点着蜡烛。商人的港口②现在成了一个主教城。罗斯吉尔得的主教就在这儿统治着。

①塞里斯勒夫(Serritslev)和索尔堡(Solbjerg)草场是两个大村子,后来与哥本哈根连在一起,成为现在的佛列得里克斯堡公园。

②指哥本哈根。

“‘爱兰生主教坐在‘亚克塞尔之家’里。厨房里正在烤着肉,仆人端上了啤酒和红葡萄酒,提琴和黄铜鼓奏出了音乐。蜡烛和灯在燃着;城堡大放光明,好像它是整个王国里的一盏明灯。东北风吹着塔和墙,但是塔和墙却仍然屹立不动。东北风吹着城西边的堡垒——只不过是一道木栏栅,但是这堡垒也是屹立不动。丹麦的国王克利斯朵夫一世就站在堡垒外面。叛乱者在雪尔却尔攻打他;他现在要到这个主教的城市来避乱。

“风儿在呼啸,在像主教一样地说,‘请你站在外面!请你站在外面!门是不会为你而开的!’

“那是一个困苦的时代,那是一些艰难的日子。每个人喜欢怎样就怎样。霍尔斯坦的旗帜在宫殿的塔上飘扬。处处是贫困和悲哀。这是痛苦的黑夜。全国都有战争,还有黑死病在流行着。这是漆黑的夜——但是瓦尔得马尔①来了。

“主教的城现在成了国王的城。城里遍布有山形墙的屋子和窄狭的街道;有守夜人和一座市政厅;它的西区设有一个固定的绞架——只有市民才够资格在那上面受绞刑。一个人必须是这城市的居民才能被吊在那上面,高高地眺望却格和却格的母鸡②。

①瓦尔得马尔一世(1131~1182),丹麦国王。

②却格是一个小镇,以盛产母鸡著名。

“‘这是一座美丽的绞架,’东北风说;‘美要不断地发扬!’它吹着,它呼啸着。

“它从德国吹来了灾害和苦恼。

“汉萨的商人到来了,”干爸爸说。“他们是从栈房里和柜台后面来的;他们是罗斯托克、吕贝克和卜列门的富有商人。他们所希望得到的不只是瓦尔得马尔塔上的那只金鹅。他们在丹麦国王的城里所拥有的权力比丹麦国王要大得多。他们乘着武装的船只闯进来;谁也没有准备。此外,国王爱立克也没有心情来和他的德国族人作战①。他们的人数是那么多,而且是那么厉害。国王爱立克带着他的朝臣们急忙从西城逃走,逃到一个小镇苏洛去——到安静的湖边和绿树林中去,到恋歌和美酒杯中去。

①德国的汉萨人于1428年围攻哥本哈根。

“但是有一个人留在哥本哈根——一个具有高贵的心和高贵的灵魂的人。你看到这张图画没有?这是一个年轻的妇人——那么优雅,那么娇嫩,她的眼睛像海一样深沉,头发像亚麻一样金黄。她就是丹麦的皇后、英国的公主菲力巴。她留在这个混乱的城里。那些大街小巷里全是些陡峭的台阶,棚子和灰泥——木板条的店铺。市民都涌进来,不知怎样办才好。

“她有男子的勇气和一颗男子的心。她把市民和农人召集拢来,启发他们,鼓舞他们。他们装备好船,驻守那些碉堡。他们放着马枪;处处是硝烟战火和欢乐的心情。我们的上帝决不会放弃丹麦的。太阳照着每个人的心;所有的眼睛都射出胜利的光。祝福菲力巴吧!她在茅屋里,在房子里,在国王的宫殿里,看守伤病人员;她得到了祝福。我剪了一个花圈,放在这张画上,”干爸爸说。“祝福菲力巴皇后!”

“现在我们向前再跳过几年吧!”干爸爸说。“哥本哈根也一起向前跳。国王克利斯蒂安一世到过罗马,他得到了教皇的祝福,在长途的旅行中,他处处受到尊敬。他在这里砌了一幢红砖的房子,通过拉丁文传授的学术将要在这儿发扬光大。农夫和手艺人的穷孩子都能到这里来。他们可以求乞,可以穿上黑长袍,可以在市民的门口唱歌。

“在这个一切用拉丁文教学的学校旁边,另外还有一幢小房子。在这里面,大家讲着丹麦文和遵守丹麦的习惯。早餐是啤酒熬的粥,午饭时间在上午10点钟。太阳通过小块的窗玻璃射到碗柜和书架上。书架里放着手抄的宝藏:密加尔长老的《念珠》和《神曲》,亨利·哈卜斯伦的《药物集》和苏洛的尼尔斯兄弟所谱的《韵文丹麦史记》。‘每个丹麦人都应该熟悉这些书,’这房子的主人说,而他就是使大家熟悉这些书的人。他是丹麦第一个印书的人——荷兰籍的高特夫列·万·格曼。他从事这个对大家有利的魔术:印书的技术。

“书籍来到国王的宫殿里,来到市民的住屋里。谚语和诗歌从此获得了永恒的生命。人们在痛苦和快乐中不敢说的话,民歌的鸟儿就把它唱出来——虽然用的是寓言形式,但是清楚易懂。这歌鸟自由地在广阔的空中飞翔——飞过平民的客室,也飞过武士的宫殿。它像苍鹰似地坐在一个贵妇人的手上,喃喃地歌唱。它像一只小耗子似地钻进地牢,对那些被奴役的农奴吱吱地讲话①。

①请参看《民歌的鸟儿》。

“‘这完全是一堆废话!’锐利的东北风说。

“‘这正是春天!’太阳光说。‘你看,绿芽都在偷偷地露面了!’”

“我们把画册翻下去吧!”干爸爸说。

“哥本哈根是多么光华灿烂啊!这儿有马上比武和杂技表演;这儿有壮丽的游行行列。请看那些穿着华丽的甲胄的武士;请看那些穿绸戴金的贵妇人。国王汉斯把他的女儿伊丽莎白嫁给勃兰登堡的选帝侯①。她是多么年轻,多么快乐啊!她走着的地方都铺有天鹅绒。她想着她的将来:幸福的家庭生活。在她身边站着的是她的皇兄——有一双忧郁的眼睛和沸腾的热血的克利斯蒂安王子。他是市民爱戴的人,因为他知道他们受到的压迫。他心中在关怀着穷人的未来。

“只有上帝决定我们的幸福!”

“现在再把我们的画册翻下去吧!”干爸爸说。“风吹得非常锐利。它在歌唱着那锐利的剑、那艰难的时代和那些动荡不安的日子。

“那是四月里一个严寒的日子。为什么有那么多的人聚集在宫殿前面摊税征收所的门口呢?国王的船在那儿停着,扯起了帆,挂着国旗。许多人挤在窗子后面和屋顶上观看。大家都充满了悲哀和痛苦、焦急和渴望的心情。大家都望着宫殿。不久以前,人们在那金碧辉煌的大厅里举行着火炬跳舞会,但是现在那里面却是寂然无声。大家望着那些阳台。国王克利斯蒂安常常在那上面眺望‘御桥’,同时沿着那窄狭的‘御桥街’眺望他从贝尔根带来的那个荷兰女子‘小鸽子’。百叶窗是关着的。众人望着宫殿:它的门是开着的,吊桥已经放下来了。国王克利斯蒂安带着他的忠实妻子伊丽莎白来了。她将不会离开她的高贵的主人,特别是因为他现在正遭遇着极大的困难②。

①即有权选举神圣罗马帝国的诸侯。勃兰登堡是德国的一个皇族。

②国王克利斯蒂安二世于1523年4月13日被丹麦的诸侯罢免。这里所指的是他离开宫殿准备到荷兰去的情景。他从荷兰带来的一位心爱的女子“小鸽子”(Duelil)就住在这里所说的那条狭窄的“御桥街”上。

“他的血液里焚着火,他的思想里焚着火。他要粉碎与旧时代的联系,他要粉碎农民的羁绊,他要对市民和善,他要剪断那些‘贪婪的鹰’的翅膀,但是这些鹰太多了。他离开了他的王国,希望能够在外国争取更多的朋友和族人。他的妻子和忠实的部下追随着他。在这别离的时刻,每个人的眼睛都润湿了。

“声音和时代之歌混杂在一起;有的反对他,有的赞成他。这是一个三部的合唱。请听那些贵族们所讲的话吧。这些话被写下来并印出来了:

“‘万恶的克利斯蒂安,愿你倒霉吧!流在斯德哥尔摩广场上的血在高声地诅咒着你!①’

①克利斯蒂安二世在1520年征服了瑞典。这一年他在斯德哥尔摩大肆屠杀瑞典的贵族。1521年他被赶出了瑞典。

“僧侣们也在同样地咒骂他:‘让上帝和我们遗弃你吧!你把路德的一套教义搬到这儿来;你使它占用教堂和讲台;你让魔鬼现身说法。万恶的克利斯蒂安,愿你倒霉吧!’

“但是农民和平民哭得非常难过:‘克利斯蒂安,人民爱戴你!不准人们把农民当做牲畜一样买卖,不准人们把农民随便拿去交换一只猎犬!你所定的法律就是你的见证!’

“不过穷人所说的话只像风里的糟糠。

“船现在在宫殿旁边开过去了。平民都跑到围墙边来,希望能再看一眼这只御艇。”

“时代是漫长的,时代是艰苦的;不要相信朋友,也不要相信族人。

“住在吉尔宫殿里的佛列得里克倒很想做丹麦国王呢。

“国王佛列得里克现在来到了哥本哈根。你看到这幅名为‘忠诚的哥本哈根’的图画没有?它的周围是一片漆黑的乌云,呈现出一系列的画面。瞧瞧每一幅画吧!这是一种能发出回响的图画:它现在还在歌声和故事中发出回音——经历过一连串岁月的艰难和困苦的时代。

“那只游踪不定的鸟儿,国王克利斯蒂安的遭遇怎样呢?许多别的鸟儿曾经歌唱过它;它们已经飞得很远,飞过了陆地和大海。鹳鸟在春天来得很早;它是飞过德国从南方来的。它看到过下面所讲的事情:

“‘我看到亡命的国王克利斯蒂安在长满了石楠的沼泽地上乘着车子走过。他遇见一辆独马拉着的破车。车里坐着一个女人——国王克利斯蒂安的妹妹,勃兰登堡选帝侯的夫人。她因为忠实于路德的教义而被她的丈夫驱逐出去了。这两个流亡的兄妹在这阴暗的沼泽地上见面了。时代是艰难的;时代是漫长的。不要相信朋友或族人吧。’

“燕子从松德堡宫殿①那儿飞来,唱着悲歌:‘国王克利斯蒂安被人出卖了。他坐在一座像井一样深的塔里。他的沉重的步子在石地上留下足印,他的手指在坚硬的大理石上刻下痕迹。’

啊,什么忧愁能比得上

刻在石缝里的这些话语?②

“鱼鹰从波涛汹涌的大海飞来——那广阔无边的大海。一条船在这海上驶来,带着富恩岛上勇敢的苏伦·诺尔布③。他是幸运的,但是幸运像风和天气一样,在不停地变幻。

“在尤兰和富恩岛上,大渡乌和乌鸦在尖叫:‘我们现在出来寻找食物!真是好极了,好极了!这儿有死马的尸体,也有死人的尸体。’这是一个动乱的时代;这是奥登堡伯爵④的战争。农人拿起他们的棒子,市民拿起他们的刀子,大声地喊着:‘我们要打死所有的豺狼,一只幼狼也不要让它留下。’烟云笼罩着正在焚毁的城市。

“国王克利斯蒂安是松德堡宫殿里的一个囚徒。他没有办法逃跑,也没有办法看到哥本哈根和它的灾难。克利斯蒂安三世站在北边的公共草场上⑤,像从前他的父亲一样。失望的空气笼罩着这整个城市;这儿充满了饥荒和瘟疫。

①克利斯蒂安二世在1532年企图恢复他的王位而被捕,并且被囚禁在松德堡宫里。

②引自丹麦诗人保吕丹——缪勒(Fr.Paludan-muller,1807~1876)的一首诗。

③他是丹麦的海军大将,克利斯蒂安二世的支持者,曾协助他逃亡。

④指奥登堡(Oldenburg)侯爵,他1448至1481年统治丹麦。

⑤在哥本哈根的北边。

“有一个骨瘦如柴、衣衫槛楼的女人靠着教堂的墙坐着。她是一具尸体。两个活着的孩子躺在她的怀里,从她没有生命的乳房里吸出血液。

“勇气没有了,抵抗力消逝了。你——忠诚的哥本哈根!”

“礼号吹奏起来了。请听鼓声和喇叭声吧!贵族老爷们穿着华丽的丝绸和天鹅绒的衣服,戴着飘动着的羽毛,骑着饰着金银的骏马到来了。他们是在向旧市场走去。他们是不是依照惯例要在马上比枪或在马上比武呢?市民和农人都穿着最好的衣服集中到这儿来。他们将要看到什么呢?是不是要把教皇的偶像收集到一起,烧起一堆警火呢?是不是刽子手站在那儿,正如他站在斯拉霍克①的火葬堆旁边一样呢?作为这个国家的统治者的国王是一个路德教徒。这件事现在要让大家知道、证实和承认。

①斯拉霍克(Slaghaek)是一个牧师的儿子,曾当过克利斯蒂安二世的秘书,1522年1月24日在哥本哈根的广场上被当众焚死。

“高贵的太太和出自名门的小姐——她们穿着高领的衣服,帽子上饰着珍珠——坐在敞开的窗子后面,观看着这整个的场面。大臣们穿着古雅的服装,坐在华盖下地毯上的皇位旁边。国王是沉默的。现在他的命令——朝廷的命令——用丹麦的语言向公众宣布了:因为市民和农民对贵族表示过反抗,现在要受到严厉的惩罚。市民成了贱民;农民成了奴隶。全国的主教也受到了责罚。他们的权力已经没有了。教会和修道院的一切财产,现在都移交给国王和贵族了。

“一面是骄奢和豪华,一面是憎恨和贫困。

贫穷的鸟儿蹒跚地走着,

不稳地走着……

富贵的鸟儿歌唱地走着,

喧闹地走着!①

“变乱的时代带来浓重的乌云,但也带来阳光。它在学术的大厅里、在学生的家里照着。许多名字从那个时代一直照到我们这个时代,其中有一位叫做汉斯·道生;他是富恩岛上一个穷苦的铁匠的儿子:

这个孩子来自贝根德小镇,

他的名字在整个丹麦驰名。

他,丹麦的马丁路德,挥着福音的剑,

胜利地使人民接受上帝的真言。②

①此诗英译缺。

②这是引自丹麦诗人英格曼(Bernhard Severin Ingemann,1789~1862)的一首诗。汉斯·道生(Hans Tausen,1495~1561)是丹麦一个有名的宗教改革家。

“贝特鲁斯·巴拉弟乌斯这个名字也发出光辉。这是一个拉丁名字;在丹麦文里,它是贝特尔·卜拉德。他是罗斯吉尔得的主教,也是尤兰一个穷苦铁匠的儿子。在贵族中,汉斯·佛里斯这个名字也发出光辉。他是王国的枢密顾问。他请学生到他家里来吃饭,同时照顾他们。他也同样地照顾小学生。在所有的名字之中,特别有一个名字受到众人的喝彩和传颂:

只要亚克塞港①有一个学生

能写出一个字母,

那么国王克利斯蒂安的姓名

就处处被人传颂。②

“在一个变乱的时代里,阳光也会从浓重的乌云里射出来。”

“现在我们再翻一页吧。

“在‘巨带’里③,在撒姆叔海岸下,有什么东西在呼啸,在歌唱呢?一个披着一头蔚蓝色头发的美人鱼从海面上升起来。她向农民预言未来:有一个王子将要出生;他将要成为一个有权力的伟大的国王④。

“他出生在田野里的一棵花儿盛开的山植树下。他的名字现在在传说和歌声中,在邻近的骑士大厅和城堡中开了花。有尖塔的交易所在建立起来了。罗森堡宫殿高高地耸立着,俯视着远在城墙以外的东西。学生现在有他们自己的宿舍。在这宿舍附近,座落着作为乌兰妮亚⑤纪念碑的‘圆塔’⑥。它现在仍高耸人云,遥对着曾经是乌兰妮亚宫所在地的汉岛。宫的金圆顶在月光中发出闪光;人鱼姑娘歌唱着住在宫里面的主人——国王和圣哲常来拜访的、有贵族血统的智者杜却·布拉赫。他把丹麦的声誉提得那么高,使丹麦跟天上的星星争辉,全世界有文化的国家都知道它。但是丹麦却把他赶走了。

①即哥本哈根的旧称。

②引自丹麦诗人缪勒(Paul. M. Muller)的一首诗。

③指西兰和富恩岛之间的一条海峡。

④指国王克利斯蒂安四世。在他统治期间,丹麦的文化得到了发展。

⑤希腊神话中九女神之一;她的任务是掌握天文。

⑥这是哥本哈根的一个天文台,由丹麦的名天文学家杜却·布拉赫在1576至1580年建造的。

“他在痛苦中用这样的歌安慰自己:

天空不是处处都有?

我还能有什么要求?

“他的歌活在人民心中,像人鱼姑娘所唱的关于克利斯蒂安四世的歌一样。”

“这一页你要好好地看!”干爸爸说,“它的画后面有画,正如英雄叙事诗中的后面有诗一样。这是一支歌;它的开头非常愉快,它的结尾却很悲哀。

“一个国王的女儿在国王的宫殿里跳舞。她是多么漂亮啊!她坐在国王克利斯蒂安四世的膝上;她是他心爱的女儿爱勒奥诺娜。她是在道德的教养中长大起来的。她的未婚夫是一个最优秀的显赫贵族哥尔非·乌惠德。她还不过是一个孩子;还常常受到严厉的女教师的鞭打。她向亲爱的人哭诉,而她有理由这样做。她是多么聪明,多么有教养,有学问啊!她会希腊文和拉丁文;她能伴着琵琶唱意大利歌;还能谈论关于教皇和路德的事情。

“国王克利斯蒂安躺在罗斯吉尔得主教堂的墓窖里,爱勒奥诺娜的兄弟成了国王。哥本哈根的皇宫里是一片富丽豪华的景象。这儿充满了美和智慧:最突出的代表人物是皇后——路尼堡的苏菲亚·阿玛利亚。谁能像她那样善于骑马呢?谁能像她那样精于跳舞呢?作为丹麦的皇后,谁能像她那样谈笑风生呢?

“‘爱勒奥诺娜·克利斯汀妮·乌惠德!’这是法国大使亲自讲的话,‘就美和聪明说来,她超过了一切的人。’

“在宫殿的光滑的舞池里,嫉妒的牛蒡长出来了。它在那儿生了根,蔓延起来。成了那儿一种引起人藐视的笑柄:‘这个私生子!她的马车应该在御桥上停下来。皇后可以坐车子走过的地方,普通妇女也可以走过!’

“闲话、诽谤和谎言像雪片似地飞来。

“于是乌惠德在静寂的夜里挽着妻子的手,他有城门的钥匙,他打开一扇门。马就在外面等着。他们骑马沿着海岸走;他们乘船逃到瑞典。”

“像命运对这对夫妇所起的变化一样,我们再看另一页吧。

“这是秋天,白天短,黑夜长。天气是灰暗和潮湿的,寒风越吹越厉害。堤岸上的树叶在瑟瑟作响;这些树叶飞到贝德·奥克斯①的庭院里——这房子已经空了,被它的主人遗弃了。风在克利斯仙港上呼啸,在现在当作一个普通监狱用的开·路克②的公馆周围吹着。他本人受到了羞辱,并且被放逐出去了。他的族徽被打碎了。他的画像高高地悬在绞架上。他对于这个国家的尊贵的皇后说了一些粗心大意的话;这就是他所得到的惩罚。

①贝德·奥克斯(Peder Oxe,1520~1575)是当时丹麦皇家一个权力很大的家臣,后来被撤职。

②开·路克(Kai Lykke,1625~1699)是当时丹麦的一个大臣,因诽谤皇后而被判罪,后来逃亡到外国去。

风在强劲地吹着,扫过曾经是加冕典礼礼仪室的公馆所在地的那个广场。现在那儿只剩下一块石头。‘而且这还是我把它作为一块水磨石放到浮冰上吹到这儿来的呢,’风萧萧地说。‘这块石头搁了浅;我所诅咒的“贼岛”就是在这儿冒出来的。它成了乌惠德老爷的公馆的一部分——他的夫人在这公馆里伴着清脆的琵琶歌唱,读希腊文和拉丁文,骄傲地生活着。现在这儿只剩下这块石头,上面刻着这样的碑文:

此石永远作为叛国者哥菲兹·乌惠德的羞耻和臭名的纪念。

“‘但是那位高贵的夫人——她现在到什么地方去了呢?呼——嘘——呼——嘘!’风在用一种尖锐的声音呼啸着。

“海水不停地拍打着宫殿的粘湿的墙,在宫殿后面的那座‘蓝塔’里,她已经待了好几年。这个房间里温暖少而烟多。天花板下面的那个小窗子很高。国王克利斯蒂安四世的这位娇生惯养的孩子——这位最文雅的小姐和夫人,她生活得多么艰难,多么痛苦啊!这座被烟熏黑了的监狱的墙上挂满了引起她的回忆的窗帘和织锦。她记起了她儿童时代的幸福时光,她父亲的温柔而神采飞扬的面貌。她记起了她的华贵的婚礼,她的光荣的日子,她在荷兰、英国和波霍尔姆的困苦的时刻。

在真诚的爱情面前,

无所谓困苦和艰难。

“那时她仍然和他生活在一起。但现在她却是孤独的,永远孤独的。她不知道他的坟墓在什么地方——谁也不知道。

她对丈夫的忠诚,

是她唯一的罪行。

“她成年累月地待在那里面,而外面的生活却在不停地进展。时间永远不会静止下来,但是我们不妨静止一会儿来把她和这支歌的意义想一想:

我要保持我对丈夫的誓言,

不管怎样困苦和怎样艰难!

“你看到这幅图画了吗?”干爸爸问。

“这正是冬天。冰冻在洛兰和富恩岛之间造出一座桥——一座为卡尔·古斯塔夫①用的桥。他长驱直人,所向无敌。整个国家遭受到抢劫和焚烧,恐怖和饥饿。

①瑞典国王古斯塔夫于1658年围攻哥本哈根。丹麦国王佛列得里克三世与他订了不利于丹麦的条约才算解围。

“瑞典人已经齐集在哥本哈根城下。天气冷得刺骨,雪花狂飞乱舞。但是男人和女人,忠实于他们自己的国王,忠实于他们自己,现在正在准备作战。每一个手艺人、店伙、学生和教师都在城墙上守城。谁也不怕那些火红的炮弹。国王佛列得里克宣誓要死在自己的窝里。他骑在马上巡视,皇后在后面跟随着他,这儿充满了勇气、纪律性和爱国的热忱。

“让瑞典人穿着白衣、在白雪里向前爬,准备突击吧!大家不停地把梁木和石头扔到他们头上。是的,女人提着滚烫的铁锅,把沸腾的沥青和柏油向这些进攻的敌人头上淋下去。

“在这天晚上,国王和平民团结在一起,凝成一股力量。他们得救了,他们胜利了。教堂的钟在齐鸣;处处是一片感恩的歌声。市民啊,在这里你们获得了骑士般的名誉!”

“下一页是什么呢?请看这张画吧!

“斯万尼主教的夫人坐着一辆紧闭着的车子来了。只有显贵才能这样做。那些凶猛的年轻贵族把车子打得稀烂。主教夫人只好亲自步行到主教公馆里去。

“整个故事就只这一点吗?下一步是摧毁更重要的一件东西——过度的傲慢。

“汉斯·南生市长和斯万尼主教①,在上帝的名义下,携手进行工作。他们的话语充满了智慧和诚恳;人们在教堂里,在市民公所里都能听见。

①南生市长(Borgemester Hans Nansen)和斯万尼主教(Biskop Svane)是瑞典人围攻哥本哈根时帮助丹麦国王最得力的人。战后他们又帮助国王建立起专制政体。

“他们一携手,港口就堵住了,城门就关闭了,警钟就响起来了。

“只有国王可以掌握大权。他曾经在危险的时刻留在他的窝里。要人和平民都要由他来管理和统治。

“这是一个专权的时代。”

“我们再跳一页,也再跳一个时代吧。

“‘嗨咿!啊嗨咿!’犁被扔到一边,石楠遍地丛生,但是人们却非常喜欢打猎。‘嗨咿!啊嗨咿!’

“请听那响亮的号角和狂吠着的猎犬吧!请看那些猎人吧!请看国王克利斯蒂安五世吧!他年轻而又快乐。宫里和城里全是一片快乐的景象。大厅里点着蜡烛,院子里点着火把,街上点着路灯。一切东西是那么焕然一新!从德国请来的新的贵族——男爵和伯爵——接收了恩惠和礼品。当时最流行的东西是称号、官职和德国语言。

“于是人们听到一个真正的丹麦声音:这是一个织工的儿子——他现在当上了主教。这就是根果①的声音。他唱着美丽的圣诗。

“还有一个平民的儿子——一个卖酒人的儿子。他的名字在法律和正义中射出光辉。他的关于法律的著作成了国王的名字的金底。它将永远不会被人忘记。这个平民的儿子是这国家最伟大的人;他得到了一个贵族的纹章,但也因此招致了嫉恨。因此在刑场上,格里菲尔德②的头上搁着刽子手的刀子,但是就在这时他被赦罪,改为终身监禁。人们把他送到特龙罕海岸外的一个小小的石岛上去。

蒙霍姆成了丹麦的圣赫勒拿③。“但是宫殿里的舞会仍然在愉快地进行着。这里是一派豪华富贵的景象;这里有轻松的音乐。朝臣和太太们在这里跳舞。

“现在是佛列得里克四世的时代!

“请看那些庄严的船只和胜利的旗帜吧!请看那波涛汹涌的大海吧!是的,它可以告诉人们丹麦的事迹、成就和光荣。我们记得起一些名字——胜利的塞赫斯得和谷尔登洛④!我们记得起卫特菲尔得⑤——他为了要救出丹麦的舰队,炸毁了他自己的船,而他本人则拿着丹麦的国旗,被抛到空中去。我们想着那个时代和那个时代里的斗争,想起了从挪威山上跑下来保卫丹麦的那位英雄:比得·托登叔⑥。在那壮丽的海上,在那狂暴的海上,他的名字像雷轰似地从这条海岸传到那条海岸。

①根果(Thomas Hans Kingo,1634~1703)是丹麦有名的宗教诗人,写过许多赞美诗。

②格里菲尔德(P. S. Griffelde,1635~1699)是丹麦的政治家。从1679年起,他在蒙霍姆(Munkholm)岛被监禁了22年。

③这是大西洋上的一个海岛,拿破仑曾被监禁在这里。

④这是丹麦两个有名的海军大将,曾经两次战胜挪威的海军。

⑤这是丹麦的另一个海军大将,

⑥这是一个挪威人,服务于丹麦舰队。当丹麦和瑞典作战的时候,他立过大功。

闪电透过尘埃,

雷声打乱时代的低语;

一个裁缝的学徒离开案板,

划着一条小船走过挪威沿岸。

威金人那种年轻和钢铁般的精神,

飘扬在北海上。①

“这时从格林兰的沿岸吹来一阵轻快的风——一阵像来自伯利恒土地上的香气。它带来汉斯·爱格得②和他的妻子所点起的福音之光。

①引自丹麦名诗人和政治家卜洛(Parmo Carl Ploug,1813~1894)的一首诗。

②这是一个丹麦的牧师,他把基督的福音传到格林兰岛上去。

“因此半页的篇幅有金底;另外半页的篇幅,因为表示悲哀,是一片灰黑——上面有些黑点,好像表示火花,又好像表示疾病和瘟疫。

“瘟疫在哥本哈根横行。街上都空了,所有的门都关上了,处处是粉笔画的十字,表示屋子里有瘟疫。但是画有黑十字的地方,表明里面住着的人全都死光了。

“尸体都在夜间被运走,没有人敲什么丧钟。躺在街上半死的人也跟死人一道被运走了。兵车装满了尸体,发出隆隆的响声。但是啤酒店里却发出醉汉的可怕的歌声和狂叫。他们想借酒来忘掉悲惨的境遇。他们要忘记,然后灭亡——灭亡!的确,他们终于走到灭亡。这一页,跟哥本哈根第二次的灾难和考验一起,就在这儿结束。

“国王佛列得里克四世仍然活着。在岁月的飞逝中,他的头发都变得灰白了。他站在王宫的窗口眺望着外面的风暴。这是岁暮的时候。

“在西门附近的一幢小房子里,有一个男孩子在玩球。球儿飞到顶楼上去了。这小家伙拿着一根蜡烛爬上去寻找它。于是这幢小房子就起了火,接着整条街也烧起来了。火光冲上天空;云块反射出光来。火在不停地扩大!火的燃料可是不少:有食物,有干草和麦秆,有腊肉和柏油,有整堆为了过冬用的木柴。什么东西部烧起来了。处处是哭声和叫声,一片混乱。老国王骑着马走到这混乱中来。他鼓励大家;对大家下命令。火药在爆炸,房屋在崩塌。这时北城也烧起来了;许多教堂——包括圣·彼得教堂和圣母院——也都烧起来了。请听教堂的钟最后发出的声音吧:‘仁慈的上帝,请您收回您对我们的愤怒吧!’

“只有圆塔和皇宫被保留了下来;它们周围的一切都成了烟雾迷漫的废墟。

“国王佛列得里克对老百姓很好。他安慰他们,给他们东西吃。他跟他们在一起;他是那些无家可归的人的朋友。祝福国王佛列得里克四世吧!”

“现在请看这一页!

“请看这镶着金子的马车,它旁边的随从和前前后后的骑士吧。它从皇宫里开出来,皇宫两边拦着铁链,为的是怕老百姓走得太近。每个平民必须光着头才能走过广场。因为这个缘故,你看不见广场上有什么人——大家都避开这块地方。现在可是有一个人走过来了:他的眼睛下垂,手中拿着帽子。在这时候,他正是我们很愿意推崇的一个人:

他的话语像扫净一切的狂风,

一直吹到明天太阳光出现;

外来的不良风习像许多蚱蜢,

匆忙地逃回到它发源的地点。①

“这就是充满了机智和幽默的路德维格·荷尔堡②。他的伟大表现在丹麦的剧场上。但是丹麦的剧场却都关上了门,好像它们是羞耻的发源地似的。一切娱乐都受到限制。歌舞和音乐都被禁止了。基督教阴暗的一面现在占了上风。”

①引自丹麦诗人爱密尔(Christian Frederrik Emil,1797~1840)的一首诗。

②荷尔堡(Ludvig Holberg,1684~1754),一般称为丹麦戏剧的创始人。

“‘丹麦王子!’他的母亲这样称呼他。现在是他的时代——充满了明朗的阳光、鸟儿的歌声、欢乐和地道的丹麦式的生活的时代:佛列得里克五世成了国王。

“皇宫广场上的铁链现在拆除了。丹麦的剧场的门又开了。处处充满了笑声、歌声和快乐的心情。农人举行夏日的联欢节。经过饥饿的压迫以后,他们现在可以欢乐了。‘美’现在繁荣起来,开出花朵,在声、色和创造性的艺术中结出果实,请听格勒特里①的音乐吧!请看伦得曼②的演剧吧!丹麦的皇后喜爱一切地道的东酉。英国的路薏丝,你是那么美丽和温柔!愿天上的上帝祝福你!愿太阳光以愉快的大合唱来歌颂丹麦的那些皇后——菲利巴,伊丽莎白和路薏丝。”

“尘世的部分早已被埋葬掉了,但是灵魂仍然活着,名字也仍然活着。英国又送来一个皇族的新嫁娘——玛蒂德③。她是那么年轻,但是那么快就被遗弃掉!诗人有一天将会歌颂你,歌颂你年轻的心和你所过的艰难的日子。歌声在时间的流逝中,在人民中间,有一种力量,一种无法形容的力量。请看那皇宫——国王克利斯蒂安的皇宫——的大火吧!人们在想尽一切办法要救出他们所能找到的最好的东西。请看那些码头工人拖出的一篮子银盘和贵重的东西吧。这是一笔了不起的财富。不过他们马上看到在熊熊大火燎着的一扇敞开的门后面,有国王克利斯蒂安四世的一尊古铜半身像。他们于是扔掉他们背着的那笔财富。这尊像对他们有更重大的意义!必须把它救出来,不管它有多重。他们从爱华德④的诗歌中,从哈特曼⑤的悦耳的曲调中认识了他。

①格勒特里(A.E.M.Gretry,1741~1813)是法国的名作曲家。

②伦得曼(Gert Londemann,1718~1774)是丹麦有名的戏剧家。

③玛蒂德(Karollne Mathilde,1751一1775)是丹麦国王克利斯蒂安七世的妻子,因失宠被囚禁在克隆堡监狱,并死于狱中。

④爱华德(Johannes Ewald.1743~1781)是丹麦的名诗人和剧作家。

⑤哈特曼(Johan Peter Emilius Hartmann,1805~1900)是丹麦的名作曲家。

“语言和歌曲都具有力量:对于可怜的玛蒂德皇后说来,这更具有力量。”

“我们再继续翻翻我们的画册吧。

“乌菲德广场上立着一个羞耻的纪念碑。世界上还有什么地方竖立着同样的东西呢?在西门附近立着一根圆柱。世界上像这样的东西有多少呢?

“太阳吻着作为‘自由圆柱’的基石的那块石头。所有教堂的钟都响起来了;旗帜在飘扬。大家对王储佛列得里克高呼万岁。贝尔斯托夫、勒汶特洛和柯尔边生①这几个名字永远留在老年人和青年人的心里和嘴上。大家带着微笑的眼光和感激的心情念着圆柱上刻着的神圣的碑文:

国王命令:废除农奴制;制定并实施土地法,以使农民成为勇敢、聪明、勤劳、善良、正直和幸福的公民!

“这是多么阳光明媚的一天啊!这是多么美好的一个‘夏日联欢节’啊!

“阳光之神唱着歌:‘善在生长!美在生长!乌菲德广场上的那块石碑将会倒下,但是自由圆柱将会永远在太阳光中立着——上帝、国王和人民都祝福它。’

我们有一条古老的公路,

它一直通到世界的尽头,②

“这就是那广阔的大海——敌人或朋友都可以使用的大海。而敌人也就来了。强大的英国舰队驶进来了:一个大国来攻打一个小国③。这场战斗是艰苦的,但是人民却非常勇敢。

每个人都英勇无敌,

战斗到最后一口气。④

“他们赢得了敌人的钦佩;他们感动了丹麦的诗人。现在我们纪念这天的战斗的时候,就高高地挂起国旗:这是丹麦光荣的4月2号——哥本哈根港外的洗足木耀日⑤的海战。”

①贝尔斯托夫(A. B. Bernstortf,1735~1797)勒汶特洛(Raventlow,1748~1827)和柯尔边生(C.Colbjornsen,1749~1814)都是丹麦的政治家和社会改革家。

②这是丹麦诗人格兰特维格的两句诗。

③在拿破仑战争期间,英国不准丹麦中立,于1807年向丹麦进攻,把丹麦的海军全部消灭了。

④这是丹麦作家弗列德里克(Werner Hans Frederik,1744~1812)的诗句。

⑤这是耶稣受难前的一天,在这一天耶稣亲自为他的门徒洗足,以表示谦虚。事见《圣经·新约全书·约翰福音》第13章。

“许多年过去了。奥列·松得海峡出现了一支舰队。它是开向俄国去呢,还是开到丹麦来呢?谁也不知道,甚至舰队上的人也不知道。

“人们的嘴上流传着一个故事:这天早晨在奥列·松得海面上,一件密封的命令拆开了,并且立即宣布。它上面写道:围剿丹麦的舰队。这时一个年轻的上校——一个言行一致的英国的儿子——站到他的首长面前来,说:‘我发誓,在公开和正义的战斗中,我愿为英国的国旗战斗到死,但是我不能去摧毁一个弱国。’

“他说完这话,就跳到海里去了!

于是舰队向哥本哈根前进,

远离它应该去的战场①,

那个无名上校的冰冷尸身,

在深蓝的水底下隐藏,

直到浪潮把它推向海边。

瑞典的渔人们在星空下撒网,

捞起他,用船把他装上岸:

每人都想保留住死者的肩章。②

“敌人向哥本哈根进攻。整个城市都烧起来了。我们丧失了我们的舰队,但是却没有丧失勇气和对上帝的信心。他倒下来了,但是他又能站起来。像爱赫里亚③的战斗一样,创伤终于治好了。哥本哈根的历史充满了值得安慰的事情。

我们有亘古不变的信心:

上帝永远是丹麦的一个友人。

他会帮助,只要我们坚持到底,

明朗的太阳明天一定会升起。

“不久阳光照着新建的城市,照着丰饶的麦田,照着我们人民的技能和艺术。这是一个和平幸福的夏天。这时候奥伦施拉格④到来了;诗神建立起她丰富多彩的海市蜃楼。

“科学上现在有了一个重大的发现。它比人们古时发现的一只‘金角’还要重要。现在发现的是一条金桥:

这条桥可以使思想的光辉

随时射进别的国家和人民中去。

“这桥上写着汉斯·克利斯蒂安·奥尔斯得特⑤的名字。

①指它应该去打它真正的敌人拿破仑。

②这是丹麦诗人巴梭(CarlChristianBassu,1807~1846)的一首诗。

③在北欧神话中,爱赫里亚(Einheria)是一群英勇的战士,死后可以走进众神之祖奥丁的大殿。

④奥伦施拉格(A.G.Oehlenschlager,1779~1850)是丹麦的叙事诗人和剧作家,欧洲十九世纪浪漫主义运动的一个领导人。

⑤奥尔斯得特(HansChristianArsted,1777~1851)是丹麦的著名物理学家,电磁力的发明人。

“瞧吧!在皇宫附近的教堂旁边,现在出现了一个建筑物。甚至最穷苦的男人和女人都愿意为它的建筑捐献出最后的一个铜板。”

“在这画册的开头,”干爸爸说,“你记得,那些古老的圆石从挪威的山上滚下来,然后被搬到这儿的冰块上,现在在多瓦尔生的指挥下,它们又从海底被搬出来,变成了美丽的大理石雕像。才好看呢!记住我给你看过的这些东西和给你讲过的这些事情吧!海的沙底冒出水面来,成为防波堤,载着‘阿克塞尔之家’,载着主教的公馆和国王的皇宫。现在它又载着美神的庙。诅咒已经是过去的事情了。空中充满了光明的孩子对于未来世纪所唱的欢乐的颂歌。

“多少暴风雨曾经在这儿经过;多少暴风雨又会到来,但是终究又会消逝。真、善、美总会获得胜利的。

“画册到这儿就完了,但是哥本哈根的历史并没有完——还早得很呢。谁知道你这一生会看到什么呢?

“天常常是黑的,暴风在吹,但是它总没有办法把太阳光吹走。阳光永远在那儿。不过上帝比最亮的阳光还要亮!我们的主比哥本哈根所统治的地方要宽广得多。”

干爸爸说完这话;就把画册送给我,他目光明亮,充满信心。我把这本书接过来的时候是那么高兴,那么骄傲,那么小心,正如我最近第一次抱着我的小妹妹一样。

干爸爸说:“我赞成你把这本画册给大家看,同时你也可以说明,它是我编的,粘的,画的。不过最重要的一件事情是,他们应该立刻知道我从什么地方得到这个主题、你知道得很清楚,你可以告诉他们。主题是从那些老油灯那儿得来的。当人们在最后一晚点着它们的时候,它们把一切东西,像一个海市蜃楼似的,指给新的煤气灯看:把这个港口第一次点起路灯时的事情,直到哥本哈根同时点着油灯和煤气灯这一晚上的事情,统统都指出来看。“这本书你喜欢给什么人看就给什么人看——这也就是说,给有亲切的眼睛和友善的心的人看。但是假如‘地狱马’来了的话,那么请你马上就合起

《干爸爸的画册》。”

教父的画册主要内容

安徒生童话《教父的画册》讲述了教父有一本画册,画册的每一页都记录着一个故事,这些故事反应的主要是历史——哥本哈根的生命和生活。

教父的画册读后感

读完安徒生的《教父的画册》这个故事,让我明白了一个道理,只有做到真正的“真、善、美”才能取得最后的胜利,就像故事原文中的那句话"多少暴风骤雨已经过去;它还会到来,但又会被逐散。真、善、美得到了胜利。"我们在生活中也要提倡“真、善、美”,努力做到“真、善、美”,这样成功才会降临。

教父的画册作者

安徒生是丹麦19世纪著名童话作家,世界文学童话创始人。他生于欧登塞城一个贫苦鞋匠家庭,早年在慈善学校读过书,当过学徒工。受父亲和民间口头文学影响,他自幼酷爱文学。11岁时父亲病逝,母亲改嫁。为追求艺术,他14岁时只身来到首都哥本哈根。经过8年奋斗,终于在诗剧《阿尔芙索尔》的剧作中崭露才华。因此,被皇家艺术剧院送进斯拉格尔塞文法学校和赫尔辛欧学校免费就读。历时5年。1828年,升入哥尔哈根大学。毕业后始终无工作,主要靠稿费维持生活。1838年获得作家奖金——国家每年拨给他200元非公职津贴。

英文版:Godfather’s Picture Book

GODFATHER could tell stories, ever so many and ever so long; he could cut out paper figures and draw pic-tures,and when it came near Christmas, he would bringout a copy-book, with clean white pages; on this he pastedpictures, taken out of books and newspapers ;if he had notenough for the story he wished to tell, he drew them him-self. WhenI was little, Igot several such picture-books,but the loveliest of them all was the one from "the memo-rable year when Copenhagen got gas in place of the old oil-lamps", and that was setdown on the first page.

"Great care must be taken of this book," said Fatherand Mother;"it must only be brought out on grand occa-sions."

Yet Godfather had written on the cover:

Though the book be torn, it is hardly a crime;

Other young friends have done worse in their time.

Most delightful it was when Godfather himself showedthe book, read the verses and the other inscriptions, andtold so many things besides; then the story became a realstory.

On the first page there was a picture cut out of "TheFlying Post", in which one saw Copenhagen with its RoundTower, and Our Lady's Church; to the left of this waspasted an old lantern, on which was written"Train-oil", tothe right was a chandelier—on it was written "Gas"."See,that is the placard," said Godfather;"that is the prologueto the story you are going to hear. It could also be given asa whole plny, if one could have acted it:' Train-oil andGas, or the Life and Doings of Copenhagen.' That is avery good title! At the foot of the page there is still anotherlittle picture; it is not so easy to understand, soI shall ex-plain it. That is a Death-horse.He ought to have come on-ly at the end of the book, but he has run on ahead to say,that neither the beginning, the middle, northe end is anygood; he could have done it better himself—if he could have done it at all. The Death-horse, I must tell you, stands during the day tethered to the newspaper;but in the evening he slips out and posts himself outside the po- et's door and neighs, so that the man inside may die in- stantly; but he does not die if there is any real life inhim. The Death-horse is nearly always a poor creature who cannot understand himself, and cannot get a liveli- hood; he must get air and food by going about and neigh-ing . Iam convinced that he thinks nothing of Godfather's picture-book, but for all that it may well be worth the pa- per it is written on.

"Now, that is the first page of the book; that is the placard.

" It was just the last evening on which the old oil- lamps were lighted;the town had got gas ,and it shone so that theold lamps seemed to be quite lost in it.

" Iwas in the street myself that evening," said God- father."The people walked up and down to look at the old and the new lighting. There were many people,and twice as many legs as heads. The watchmen stood about gloomily; they did not know when they might be dis- missed, like the lamps ; these themselves thought so farback—they dared not think forward. They remembered so much from the quiet evenings and the dark nights. I leaned up against a lamp-post,"said Godfather;"there was a sputtering in the oil and the wick; I could hear what the lamp said, and you shall also hear it.

"' We have done what we could,' said the lamp, ' we have been sufficient for our time,have lighted up for joy and for sorrow;we have lived through many remark-able things; we have, so to speak, been the night-eyes ofCopenhagen. Let new lights now take our place and un- dertake our office; but how many years they may shine, and what they may light up, remains to be seen!They certainly shine a little stronger than we old ones, but that is nothing, when one is made like a gas-chandelier, and has such connexions, as they have, the one pours into the other! They have pipes in all directions and can get new strength in the town and outside of the town! But each one of us oil-lamps shines by what he has in himself and not by family relationship. We and our forefathers haveshone for Copenhagen from immeasurably ancient times, far, far back. But as this is now the last evening that we stand and shine in the second rank, so to speak, here in the street along with you, ye shining comrades, we will notsulk and be envious; no,far from it, we will be glad andgood-natured. We are the old sentinels, who are relieved by new-fashioned guards in better uniforms than ours.We will tell you what our family, right up to the great-great-great-grandmother lantern, has seen and experienced—the whole of Copenhagen's history. May you and your succes-sors,right down to the last gas-chandelier, experience and be able to tell as remarkable things as we, when one day you get your discharge! And you will get it, you may beprepared for that. Men are sure to find a stronger light thangas. Ihave heard a student say that it is hinted that they will yet burn sea-water!'The wick sputtered when the lamp said these words; just as if it had water in it al-ready."

Godfather listened closely,thought it over and con- sidered that it was an excellent idea of the old lantem ,on this evening of transition from oil to gas ,to recount and display the whole of the history of Copenhagen ."A good idea must not be let slip ,"said Godfather;"I seized it di-rectly,went home and made this picture-book for you ,it goes still farther back in time than the lamps could go .

"Here isthe book;here is the history:

'openhagen' ife and oing;'

it begins with pitch-darkness, a coal-black page—

that is the Dark Ages.

"Now we shall turn the page!" said Godfather."Do you see the pictures? Only the wild sea and the blustering north-east wind;it is driving heavy ice-floes along;thereis no one out to sail onthem except great stone-blocks, which rolled down on to the ice from the mountains of Nor- way. The north wind blows the ice away; he means to show the German mountains what boulders are foundup inthe north. The ice-fleet is already down in the Sound, off the coast of Zealand, where Copenhagen now lies;but there was no Copenhagen at that time. There were great sand-banks under the water,against one of these the ice-floeswith the big boulders struck; the whole of the ice-fleetstuck fast, the north-east wind could not float themagain, and so he grew as mad as he could be, and pro-nounced a curse upon the sand-bank,'the thieves'

ground,' as he called it;and he swore that if it ever lift-ed itself above the surface of the sea, thieves and robbersshould come there, gallows and wheel should be raised on it.

"But whilst he cursed and swore in this manner, thesun broke forth, and in its beams there swayed and swungbright gentle spirits, children of light; they dancedalong over the chilling ice-floes, and melted them, andthe great boulders sank down to the sandy bottom.

"' Sun-vermin!'said the north wind, 'is that com-rade-ship and kinship?I shall remember and revenge that. Now I pronounce a curse!'

"' We pronounce a blessing!'sang the children oflight.'The sand-bank shall rise and we will protect it!Truth and goodness and beauty shall dwell there!'

"' Stuff and nonsense!' said the north-east wind.

"Of all this the lantern had nothing to tell," saidGodfather,"but I knew it,and it is of great importancefor the life and doings of Copenhagen.

"Now we shall turn the page!" said Godfather.

"Years have passed, the sand-bank has lifted itself; asea-bird has settled on the biggest stone,which jutted outof the water. You can see it in the picture. Years andyears have passed. The sea threw up dead fish on the sand. The tough lyme-grass sprang up, withered,rotted,and enriched the ground;then came several different kinds of grasses and plants; the bank became a green is-land. The Vikings landed there. There was level groundfor fighting, and good anchorage beside the island off thecoast of Zealand.

"The first oil-lamp was kindled,I believe, to cookfish over, and there were fish in plenty. The herringsswam in great shoals through the Sound;it was hard topush aboat through them;they flashed in the water as ifthere was lightning down there, they shone in the depthslike the Northern Lights.The Sound had wealth of fish,and so houses were builton thecoast of Zealand;the wallswere of oak and the roofs of bark; there were trees enoughforthe purpose.Ships came into the harbour; the oil- lantern hung from the swaying ropes; the north-east windblew and sang—'U-hu-u.'If a lantern shone on the is-land, it was a thieves lantern. Smugglers and thieves ex-ercised their trade on' Thieves' Island.

"' Ibelieve that all the evil thatI wished will grow,'said the north-east wind.' Soon will come the tree,ofwhich I can shake the fruit.'

"And here stands the tree," said Godfather."Do yousee the gallows on Thieves'Island? Robbers and murderershang there in iron chains,exactly as they hung at that time. The wind blew so that the long skeletons rattled, butthe moon shone down on them very serenely, as it nowshines on a rustic dance.The sun also shone down serene-ly, crumbling away the dangling skeletons, and from thesunbeams the children of light sang;'We know it! Weknow it!It shall yet be beautiful here in the time to come!Here it will be good and splendid!'"

"'Cackle! Cackle!' said the north-east wind.

"Now we turn over the page!" said Codfather.

"The bells were ringing in the town of Roskilde, where Bishop Absalon lived;he could both readhis Bible and swing his sword; he had power and will; thebusy fish-ermen at the harbour whose town was growingand was now a market-place, Absalon wished to protect these from as-sault.He sprinkled the unhallowed ground with holy water;Thieves'Island got a mark of honour. Masonsand carpen-ters set to work on it; a building grew up at the Bishop'scommand. The sunbeams kissed the red walls as they rose.There stood Axel's house:

The castle with its towers high in air, Its balconies and many a noble stair.

Boo!hoo!

The north-east wind in fury blew, But the stronghold stood unyielding all the same.And outsids it stood'The Haven', the merchants'har- bour:

Mermaid's bower'mid gleaming lakes, Built in groves of green.  "The foreigners came there and bought the wealth of fish, built booths and houses, with bladders for window-panes—glass was too dear; then came warehouses with gables and windlasses. look! inside the shops sit the oldbachelors;they dare not marry:they trade in ginger andpepper,the pepper-lads.

"The north-east wind blows through the streets andlanes, sends the dust flying, and tears a thatched roofoff. Cows and pigs walk about in the street-ditch.

"'Ishall cow and subdue them,' says the north-eastwind;'whistle round the houses and round Axel's house!I cannot miss it! They call it" Gallows'Castle onThieves' Island".'"

And Godfather showed a picture of it, which hehimself had drawn. On the walls were stake after stake,and on every one sat the head of a captured pirate,and showed the teeth.

"That really happened," said Godfather;"and it isworth knowing about."

"Bishop Absalon was in his bath-room, and heard through the thin walls the arrival of a ship of freebooters.At once he sprang out of the bath and into his ship, blewhis horn, and his crew came. The arrows flew into the backs of the robbers, who rowed hard to get away. The arrows fastened themselves in their hands, and there wasno time to tear them out. Bishop Absalon caught every living soul and cut his head off ,and every head was set up on the outer wall of the castle. The north-east windblew with swollen cheeks—with bad weather in his jaw, as the sailors say.

"'Here I will stretch myself out,' said the wind;' hereI will lie down and look at the whole affair.'

"It rested for houre, it blew for days ;years wentpast.

"The watchman came out on the castle tower; he looked to the east,to the west, to the south, and thenorth. There you have it in the picture," said Godfather, and showed it."You see him there, but what he saw Ishall tell you.

"From Steileborg's wall there is open water right out to Kge Bay, and broad is the channel over to Zealand'scoast. In front of Serritslev and Solberg commons,where the large villages lie, grows up more and more the newtown with gabled timber houses. There are whole streets for shoemakers and tailors, for grocers and ale-sellers; there isa market-place, there is a guild-hall, and close by the shore,where once there was an island, stands the splendidChurch of St. Nicholas.It has a tower and a spire, im-mensely high; how it reflects itselfin the clear water! Notfar from this stands the Church of Our Lady where masses are said and sung, incense gives out its odour, and wax-ta-pers burn.The merchants' haven is now the Bishop' s town;the Bishop of Roskilde rules and reigns there.

"Bishop Erlandsen sits in Axel's house. There is cooking in the Kitchen, there is serving of ale and claret,there is the sound of fiddles and kettledrums.Candles and lamps burn, the castle shines, as if it were a lantern forthe whole country and kingdom. The north-east wind blows round the tower and walls, but they stand firm enough.

The north-east wind blows round the western fortifications of the town—only an old wooden barricade, but it holds out well. Outside of itstands Christopher the First, the King of Denmark.The rebels have beaten him at Skelskr;

he seeks shelter in the Bishop's town.

"The wind whistles, and says like the Bishop,'Keep outside! keep outside! The gate is shut for thee!'

"It is a time of trouble;these are dismal days; everyman will have his own way.The Holstein banner waves from the castle tower. There is want and woe; it is thenight of anguish. Strife is in the land, andthe Black Death; pitch-dark night—but then came Waldemar.

The Bishop's town is now the King's town;it hasgabled houses and narrow streets; it has watchmen, and atown-hall;it has a fixed gallows by the west-port. Nonebut townsmen can be hanged on it:one must be a citizento be able to dangle there, to come up so high as to seeKge and the hens of Kge.  "'That is a lovely gallows,'says the north-eastwind;'The beautiful grows!' and so it whistled and blew. From Germany blew trouble and want.

"The Hansa merchants came,"said Godfather;

"they came from warehouse and counter, the rich tradersfrom Rostock, Lübeck, and Bremen ; they wanted tosnatchup more than the golden goose from Waldemar's Tower;they had more power in the town of the DanishKing than the Danish King himself; they came with armedships and no one was prepared.King Eric had no mind either to fight with his German kinsfolk; they were somany and so strong.So King Eric and all his courtiershurried out at the west-port to the town of Sor, to thequiet lake and the green woods, to the song of love andthe goblet's clang.

"But one remained behind in Copenhagen,a kingly heart, a kingly mind.Do you see the picture here, theyoung woman, so fine and tender, with sea-blue eyes andflaxen hair?it is Denmark's Queen,Philippa,the Eng-lish Princess.She stayed in the distracted city,where inthe narrow lanes and streets with the steep stairs, sheds,and lath-and-plaster shops, townspeople swarmed andknew not what to do. She has the heart and courage of aman.She summons burghers and peasants, inspires and encourages them. They rig the ships and garrison the block houses;they bang away with the carbines;there isfire and smoke, there is lightness of heart; our Lord willnot give up Denmark! And the sun shines into all hearts,it beams out of all eyes in the gladness of victory.Blessedbe Philippa! And blessed she is in the hut and in thehouse, and in the castle of the King, where she looks af-ter the wounded and the sick.Ihave cut a wreath and putit round the picture here, said Codfather."Blessed beQueen Philippa!"

"Now we spring years forward!" saia Godfather,"andCopenhagen springs with us .King Christian the First hasbeen in Rome,has been blessed by the Pope, and greetedwith honour and homage on the longjourney.He is build- ing here a hall of red brick; learning shall grow there, anddisplay itself in Latin.The poor man's children from theplough or workshop come there too, can live upon alms, can attain to the long black gown sing before thecitizens'doors.

"Close to the hall of learning, where all is in Latin,lies a little house; in it Danish rules,both in language andin customs. Thereis ale-porridge for breakfast,and dinneris at ten o'clock in the forenoon.The sun shines in through the small panes on cupboards and bookcases;inthe latter lie written treasures, Master Mikkel's 'Rosary'and'Godly Comedies', Henrik Harpestreng's'Leech- book',and Denmark's'Rhyming Chronicle'by Brother Niels of Sor.' Every man of breeding ought to knowthese,'says the master of the house, and he is the man tomake them known. He isDenmark's first printer, the Dutchman,Gotfred van Gehmen.He practises the blessed black art of book-printing.

"And books come into the King's castle, and into thehouses of the burgher.Proverbs and songs get eternal life.Things which men dare not say in sorrow and pleasure aresung by the Bird of Popular Song,darkly and yet clearly;

it flies so free, it flies so wide,through the common sit-ting-room, through the knightly castle; it sits like a falconon the hand of the noble lady and twitters; it steals in likea little mouse,and squeaks in the dungeon to the enslaved peasant.

"' It is all mere words!' says the sharp north-eastwind.

"'It is spring-time!' say the sunbeams.'See howthegreen buds are peeping!'

"Now we will go forward in our picture-book!"said Godrather.

"How Copenhagen glitters!There are tournaments and sports;there are splendid processions; look at the gallantknights in armour , at the noble ladies in silk and gold!king Hans is giving his daughter Elizabeth to the Electorof Brandenburg;how young she is, and how happy! shetreads on velvet;there is a future in her thoughts, a lifeof household happiness.Close beside her stands her royalbrother, Prince Christian, with the melancholy eyes andthe hot,surging blood. He is dear to the townsfolk; heknows their burdens;he has the poor man's future in histhoughts.'God alone decides our fortunes!'

"Now we will go on with the picture-book," saidGodfather."Sharp blows the wind, and sings about the sharp sword, about the heavy time of unrest.'

"It is an icy-cold day in the middle of April.Whyis the crowd thronging outside the castle,and in front ofthe old tollbooth, where the king's ship lies with its sailsand flags? There are people in the windows and on the roofs. There is sorrow and affliction, expectancy, andanxiety. They look towards the castle, where formerly there were torch-dances in the gilded halls, now so stilland empty;they look at the window-balcony,from whichKing Christian so often looked out over the drawbridge, and along the narrow street, to his Dovelet, the littleDutch girl he brought from the town of Bergen.The shut-ters are closed, the crowd looks towards the castle; nowthe gate is opening, the drawbridge is being let down.

king Christian comes with his faithful wife Elizabeth;shewill not forsake her royal lord, now when he is so hardbeset.

"There was fire in his blood, there was fire in histhoughts; he wished to break with the olden times, tobreak the peasants' yoke, to be good to the burghers, tocut the wings of 'the greedy hawks'; but they were toomany for him!He departs from his country and kingdom,to win friends and kinsfolk for himself abroad. His wifeand faithful men go with him;every eye is wet now in thehour of parting.

"Voices blend themselves in the song of time, against him and for him;a threefold choir. Hear the words of the nobles; they are written and printed :

"'Woe to thee, Christian the Bad! The blood pouredout on Stockholm's market-place cries aloud and cursesthee!'

"And the monk's shout utters the same sentence:

"'Be thou cast off by God and by us! Thou hast called hither the Lutheran doctrine;thou hast given itchurch and pulpit,and let the tongue of the Devil speak.Woe to thee, Christian the Bad!'

"But peasants and burghers weep so bitterly.'Chris-tian, beloved of the people!No longer shall the peasant besold like cattle, no longer be bartered away for a hound!That law is thy witness!'

"But the words of the poor man are like chaff beforethe wind.

"Now the ship sails past the castle, and the burghersrun upon the ramparts,so that they may once more see theroyal galley sail.

"'The time is long,the time is hard; trust not infriends or kinsmen.'

"Uncle Frederick in the Castle of Kiel would like tobe king of Denmark. king Frederick lies before Copen-hagen; do you see the picture here, 'the faithful Copen-hagen'? Round about it are coal-black clouds,with pictureon picture; only look at each of them! It is a resoundingpicture;it still resounds in song and story: the heavy,hard, and bitter time inthe course oftheyears.

"How went it with King Christian, that wandering bird? The birds have sung about it, and they fly far, overland and sea. The stork came early in the spring, from thesouth over the German lands; it has seen what will now betold.

"'Isaw the fugitive king Christian driving on a heather-grown moor; there met him a wretched car,drawnby one horse;in it sat a woman,King Christian's sister,the Margravine of Brandenburg—faithful to the Lutheran religion,she had been driven away by her husband.On thedark heath met the exiled children of a king.The time ishard,the time is long; trust not in friend or in kin.'

"The swallow came from Snderborg Castle with a doleful song:'King Christian is betrayed.He sits here inthe dungeon-tower deep as a well;his heavy steps wear tracks in the stone floor, his fingers leave their marks inthe hard marble.'

What sorrow ever found such vent As in that furrowed stone?

"The fish-eagle came from the rolling sea! it is openand free; a ship flies over it; it is the brave Sren Norbyfrom Fyn.Fortune is with him —but fortune is changeful,like wind and weather.

"In Jutland and Fyn the ravens and crows scream:' We are out for spoil.It is grand;it is grand! Here liebodies of horses, and of men as well.' It is a time oftrouble; it is the Count of Oldenburg's war.The peasantseized his club and the townsman his knife, and shouted loudly:'We shall kill the wolves and leave no cub of them alive.' Clouds of smoke rise from the burning towns.

"King Christian is a prisoner in Snderborg Castle;he cannot escape, or see Copenhagen and its bitter dis-tress. On the North Common stands Christian Ⅲ, wherehis father stood before.In the town is despair;famine isthere, and plague.

"Up against the church wall sits an emaciated wom-an in rags; she is a corpse; two living children lie on herlap and suck blood from the dead breast.

"Courage has fallen, resistance falls. Oh, thou faithful Copenhagen!

"Fanfares are blown. Listentothe drums and trum- pets!In rich dresses of silk and velvet,and with wavingplumes,come the noble lords on gold-caparisoned horses;they ride to the old market. Is there a joust or tournamentafter the usual custom? Burghers and peasants intheir best array are flocking thither.What is there to see?Hasa bonfire been made to burn popish images?or does the hangman stand there, as he stood at Slaghoek's deathfire?The king,the ruler of the land,is Lutheran,and thisshall now be solemnly proclaimed.

"High and mighty ladies and noble maidens sit with high collars and pearls in their caps, behind the open win-dows,and see all the show.On an outspread carpet,undera canopy, sit the councillors of state in antique dress, nearthe King's throne.The king is silent.Now his will is pro-claimed in the Danish tongue,the will of the state-council.Burghers and peasants receive words of stern rebuke for theopposition they have shown to the high nobility.The burgher is humbled; the peasant becomes a thrall. Nowwords of condemnation are uttered against the bishops of the land. Their power is past.All the property of thechurch and cloisters is transferred to the King and the no-bles.

"Haughtiness and hate are there, pomp and misery.

"The time of change has heavy clouds,but also sun-shine;it shone now in the hall of learning, in the student's home,and names shine out from it right on to our time.Hans Tausen, the son of a poor smith in Fyn:

It was the little lad from Birkendè who came, His name flew over Denmark ,so widely spread his fame;

A Danish Martin Luther,who drew the Gospel sword, And gained a victory for truth and for the Word.

"There also shines the name of Petrus Palladius; soit is in Latin, but in Danish it is Peter Plade, the Bish-op of Roskilde, also the son of a poor smith in Jutland.Among the names of noblemen shines that of Hans Friis,the Chancellor of the kingdom. He seated the students athis table, and looked after their wants, and those of theschoolboys too. And one name before all others is greet-ed with hurrahs and song:

While but a single student here At learning's desk is seated, So long shall good King Christian's name With loud Hurrahs be greeted.

"Sunbeams came amongst the heavy clouds in thattime of change.

"Now we turn the page.

"What whistles and sings in'The Great Belt'underthe coast of Sams?From the sea rises a mermaid,withseagreen hair;she tells the future to the peasant.Aprince shall be born,who will become a king,great andpowerful.

"In the fields,under the blossoming white-thorn,hewas born.His name now blooms in song and story,in theknightly halls and castles round about.The exchangesprang up with tower and spire;Rosenborg lifted itselfand looked far out over the ramparts;the students them-selves got a house of their own,and close beside it stoodand still points to Heaven the'Round Tower',whichlooks toward the island of Hveen where Uranienborg oncestood.Its golden domes glittered in the moonlight,andmermaids sang of the master there whom kings and sagesvisited,the sage of noble blood,Tycho Brahe.He raisedthe name of Denmark so high,that along with the stars ofheaven it was known in all the cultured lands of theworld.And Denmark spurned him away from her.

"He sang for comfort in his grief:

'Is not Heaven everywhere?

What more then do I require!'

"His song lives in the hearts of the people,like themermaid's song about Christian the Fourth.

"Now comes a page which you must look at in earnest,"said Godfather;"There is picture after picture,as there is verse after verse in the old ballads.It is asong,so joyful in its beginning,so sorrowful in itsending.

"A king's child dances in the castle of the King;howcharming she is to see!She sits on the lap of Christian theFourth,his beloved daughter Eleonora.She grows in wom-anly virtues and graces.The foremost man amongst the no-bles,Corfitz Ulfeldt,is her bridegroom.She is still achild,and still gets whippings from her stern governess;she complains to her sweetheart,and with good right too.How clever she is,and cultured and learned;she knowsLatin and Greek,sings Italian to her lute,and is able totalk about the Pope and Luther.

"King Christian lies in the chapel-vault in RoskildeCathedral,and Eleonora's brother is King.There is pompand show in the palace in Copenhagen,there is beauty andwit;foremost is the Queen herself,Sophia Amalia ofLyneborg.Who can guide her horse so well as she?Whodances with such dignity as she?Who talks with suchknowledge and cleverness as Denmark's Queen?'EleonoraChristina Ulfeldt!'—these words were spoken by theFrench Ambassador—'in beauty and cleverness she sur-passes all.'

"From the polished dancing-floor of the palace grewthe burdock of envy;it hung fast,it worked itself in andtwisted around itself,the scorn of contempt.'The baseborncreature!Her carriage shall stop at the castle-bridge:where the Queen drives,the lady must walk.'There is aperfect storm of gossip,slander,and lies.

"And Ulfeldt takes his wife by the hand in the quiet-ness of the night.He has the keys of the town gates;heopens one of them,horses wait outside.They ride alongthe shore,and then sail away to Sweden.

"Now we turn the page,even as fortune turns itselffor these two.

"It is autumn;the day is short,the night is long;itis grey and damp,the wind so cold,and rising in strength.It whistles in the leaves of the trees on the rampart,theleaves fly into Peter Oxe's courtyard,which stands emptyand forsaken by its owners.The wind sweeps out overChristianshaven,round Kai Lykke's mansion,now a com-mon jail.He himself has been hunted from honour andhome;his scutcheon is broken,his effigy hanged onthe highest gallows.Thus is he punished for his wantonthoughtless words about the honoured Queen of the land.Shrilly pipes the wind,and rushes over the open placewhere the mansion of the Lord High Steward has stood;only one stone of it is now left—'that I drove as a boul-der down here on the floating ice,'whoops the wind.'The stone stranded where Thieves'Island has sincegrown,under my curse,and so it came into the mansionof Lord Ulfeldt,where the lady sang to the sounding lute,read Greek and Latin,and bore herself proudly:now onlythe stone stands up here with its inscription:

"'TO THE ETERNAL SHAME AND DISGRACE OF THE TRAITOR CORFITZ ULFELDT.'

"'But where is she now,the stately lady?Hoo-ee!hoo-ee!'pipes the wind with ear-splitting voice.In the Blue Tower,behind the palace,where the sea-water beatsagainst the slimy walls,there she has already sat for manyyears.There is more smoke than warmth in the chamber;the little window is high up under the ceiling.Christianthe Fourth's petted child,the daintiest of maids and ma-trons,in what discomfort and misery she sits.Memoryhangs curtains and tapestries on the smoke-blackenedwalls of her prison.She remembers the lovely time of herchildhood,her father's soft and beaming features;sheremembers her splendid wedding;the days of her pride,her hours of hardship in Holland,in England,and inBornholm.

Naught seems too hard for wedded love to bear, And faithfulness is not a cause for shame.

"Still,he was with her then;now she is alone,alone for ever.She knows not his grave,no one knows it.

Her faithfulness to him was all her crime.

"She sat there for years,long and many,whilst lifewent on outside.It never stands still,but we will do thatfor a moment here,and think of her,and the words of thesong:

I keep my promise to my husband still In want and great necessity.

"Do you see the picture here?"said Godfather."Itis winter-time;the frost makes a bridge between Lollandand Fyn,a bridge for Carl Gustav,who is pushing on irre-sistibly.There is plundering and burning,fear and want,in the whole land.

"The Swedes are lying before Copenhagen.It is bitingcold and a blinding snow;but true to their king,and trueto themselves,men and women stand ready for the fight.Every tradesman,shopman,student,and schoolmaster isup on the ramparts to defend and guard.There is no fear ofthe red-hot balls.King Frederick swore he would die in hisnest.He rides up there and the queen with him.Courage,discipline,and patriotic zeal are there.Only let the Swedeput on his grave-clothes,and crawl forward in the whitesnow,and try to storm!Beams and stones are rolled downon him;yea,the women come with brewing cauldrons andpour boiling pitch and tar over the storming enemy.

"This night king and commoner are one united power.And there is rescue and there is victory.The bells ring;songs of thanksgiving resound.Burgherfolk,here you wonyour knightly spurs!

"What follows now?See the picture here.BishopSvane's wife comes in a closed carriage.Only the high andmighty nobility may do that.The proud young gentlemenbreak the carriage down;the bishop's wife must walk tothe bishop's house.

"Is that the whole story?—Something much biggershall be broken next—the power of pride.

"Burgomaster Nansen and Bishop Svane grasp hands for the work,in the name of the Lord.They talkwith wisdom and honesty;it is heard in the church and inthe burgher's house.

"One hand-grip of fellowship,and the haven isblocked,the gates are locked,the alarm bell rings.

"The power is given to the king alone,he who re-mained in his nest in the hour of danger;he governs,herules over great and small.It is the time of absolutemonarchy.

"Now we turn the page and the time with it.

"'Hallo,hallo,hallo!'The plough is laid aside,the heather gets leave to grow,but the hunting is good.'Hallo,hallo!'Listen to the ringing horn,and the bay-ing hounds!See the huntsmen,see the king himself,King Christian Ⅴ:he is young and gay.There is merri-ment in palace and in town.In the halls are wax-lights,in the courtyards are torches,and the streets of the townhave got lamps.Everything shines so new!The new no-bility,called in from Germany,barons and counts,getfavours and gifts.Nothing passes current now except titlesand rank,and the German language.

"Then sounds a voice that is thoroughly Danish;itis the weaver's son who is now a bishop;it is the voiceof Kingo;he sings his lovely psalms.

"There is another burgher's son,a vintner's son;his thoughts shine forth in law and justice;his law-bookbecame gold-ground for the king's name;it will stand fortimes to come.That burgher's son,the mightiest man inthe land,gets a coat of arms and enemies with it,and sothe sword of the executioner is raised over the head ofGriffenfeldt.Then grace is granted,with imprisonment forlife.They send him to a rocky islet off the coast of Trond-hjem, MunkholmDenmark's St.Helena.

But the dance goes merrily in the palace hall;splendourand pomp are there;there is lively music,and courtiersand ladies dance there "Now comes the time of Frederick Ⅳ!

"See the proud ships with the flag of victory!Seethe rolling sea!it can tell of great exploits,of the gloriesof Denmark.We remember the names,the victorious Se-hested and Gyldenlwe!We remember Hvitfeldt,who,tosave the Danish fleet,blew up his ship,and flew toHeaven with the Danish flag.We think of the time,andthe struggle of those days,and the hero who sprang fromthe Norwegian mountains to the defence of Denmark,Peter Tordenskjold.From the glorious surging sea,hisname thunders from coast to coast.

There flashed a lightning through the powder-dust, A thunder rumbled through the whispering age;

A tailor-lad sprang from the tailor's board, From Norway's coast sailed out a little sloop, And over Northern seas there flew again The Viking spirit,youthful,girt with steel.

"Then there came a fresh breeze from Greenland'scoast,a fragrance as from the land of Bethlehem;it boretidings of the Gospel light kindled by Hans Egede and hiswife.

"The half leaf here has therefore a gold ground;theother half,which betokens sorrow,is ashen-grey withblack specks,as if from fire sparks,as if from disease andpestilence.

"In Copenhagen the plague is raging.The streets areempty;the doors are barred,and round about are crossesmarked with chalk;inside is the plague,but where thecross is black,all are dead.

"In the night the bodies are carried away,without thetolling-bell;they take the half-dead from the streets withthem;the army wagons rumble,they are filled withcorpses.But from the ale houses sound the horrid songs ofthe drunkard and wild shrieks.In drink they seek to forgettheir bitter distress;they would forget,and end—end!Ev-erything comes to an end.Here the page ends with the sec-ond time of distress and trial for Copenhagen.

"King Frederick Ⅳ is still alive;his hair has growngrey in the course of the years.From the window of thepalace he looks out upon the stormy weather;it is late inthe year.

"In a little house by the Westgate a boy plays withhis ball;it flies up into the garret.The little one takes atallow-candle and goes up to search for it;he sets fire tothe little house,and so to the whole street.It flares in theair,so that the clouds shine.The flames increase!There isfood for the fire;there is hay and straw,bacon and tar,there are piles of firewood for the winter-time,andevery-thing burns.There is weeping and shrieking andgreat confusion.In the tumult rides the old king,encour-aging and commanding.There is blowing up with powder,and pulling down of houses.Now there is fire also in thenorth quarter,ane the churches are burning,St.Peter'sand Our Lady's.Listen to the bells playing their lasttune:'Turn away thy wrath,Lord God of Mercy!'

"Only the'Round Tower'and the castle are leftstanding;round about them are smoking ruins.KingFrederick is good to the people;he comforts and feedsthem;he is with them;he is the friend of the homeless.Blessed be Frederick Ⅳ!

"See this page now!

"See the gilded carriage with footmen round it,witharmed riders before and behind it,coming from the cas-tle,where an iron chain is stretched to prevent the peoplefrom coming too near.Every plebeian man must go overthe square with bare head;because of this not many areseen there,they avoid the place.There comes one nowwith downcast eyes,with hat in hand,and he is just theman of that time,whom we name with pride:

His words like a cleansing storm-wind rang For sunshine in days yet to come;

And smuggled in fashions like grasshoppers sprang In haste to escape and get home.

It is wit and humour in person;it is Ludwig Holberg.TheDanish theatre,the scene of his greatness,has beenclosed,as if it were the dwelling-place of infamy.Allmerriment is confined;dance,song,and music are for- bidden and banished.The dark side of religion is now inpower.

"'The Danish prince!'as his mother called him;now comes his time with sunshiny weather,with the songof birds,with gladness and gaiety,and true Danish ways.King Frederick Ⅴ is king.And the chain is taken awayfrom the square beside the castle;the Danish theatre isopened again;there is laughter and pleasure and good hu-mour.And the peasants hold their summer festival.It is atime of gaiety after the time of fast and oppression.Thebeautiful thrives,blossoming and bearing fruit in sound,incolour,and in creative art.Hearken to Gretry's music!Watch the acting of Londemann!And Denmark's queenloves what is Danish.Louisa of England,beautiful andgentle;God in his Heaven,bless you!The sunbeamssing in lively chorus about the queens in the Danishland—Philippa,Elizabeth,Louisa!

"The earthly parts have long been buried,but thesouls live,and the names live.Again,England sends aroyal bride,Matilda,so young,and so soon forsaken!Poets will sing of thee in times to come,of thy youthfulheart and time of trial.And song has power,an inde-scribable power through times and peoples.See theburning of the castle,King Christian's castle!They tryto save the best they can find.See,the dockyard menare dragging away a basket with silver plate and preciousthings.It is a great treasure;but suddenly they seethrough the open door,where the flames are bright,abronze bust of King Christian Ⅳ.Then they cast awaythe treasure they are carrying;his image is much more tothem!that must be saved,however heavy it may be tocarry.They know him from Ewald's song,from Hart-mann's lovely melody.

"There is power in the words and the song,and itshall sound even twice as strong for the poor QueenMatilda.

"Now we shall turn farther on in our picture-book.

"On UIfeldt's Place stood the stone of shame;where is there one on the earth like it?By the Westgatea column was raised;how many are there like it on theearth?

"The sunbeams kissed the boulder,which is thefoundation under the'Column of Freedom'.All thechurch bells rang,and the flags waved;the people hur-rahed for the Crown-Prince Frederick.In the hearts andon the lips of old and young were the names of Bernstorff,Reventlow,Colbjrnson.With beaming eyes and thankfulhearts they read the blessed inscription on the column:

"'The King has decreed it:Serfdom shall cease;theagrarian laws shall be set in order and put in force,thatthe free yeoman may become brave and enlightened,dili-gent and good,a worthy citizen,and happy.'

"What a day of sunshine!What'a Summer festi-val'!

"The spirits of light sang:'The good grows!Thebeautiful grows!Soon the stone on UIfeldt's Place willfall,but Freedom's column shall stand in sunshine,blessed by God,the king,and the people.'

We have a highway old and wide And to the ends of earth it goes.

"The open sea,open for friend or foe;and the foewas there.It sailed up,the mighty English fleet;a greatpower came against a little one.The fight was hard butthe people were brave.

Each stood firm with dauntless breath, Stood and fought and met his death.

"They won the admiration of the foe,and inspiredthe poets of Denmark.That day of battle is still commem-orated with waving flags—Denmark's glorious second ofApril,the battle-day at the Roadstead.

"Years passed.A fleet was seen in re Sound.Wasit bound for Russia or Denmark?No one knew,not evenon board.

"There is a legend in the mouth of the people,thatthat morning in re Sound,when the sealed orders werebroken open and read,and instructions given to take theDanish fleet,a young captain stepped forward to hischief,a son of Britain,noble in word and deed:'I swore,'was his word,'that to my death I would fight for England's flap in open and honourable fight,but not to overpowerthe weak.'And with that he sprang overboard!

And so to Copenhagen sailed the fleet.

While far from Where they fought the battle stark, Lay he,the Captain—no one knows his name A corpse sea-cold,hidden by waters dark, Until he drifted shorewards,and the Swedes, Beneath the starry sky who cast their nets.

Found him,and bore him in their boat to land, And—cast the dice to win his epauletts!

"The enemy made for Copenhagen;the town went upin flames,and we lost our fleet,but not our courage andour faith in God;He casteth down,but He raiseth upagain.Our wounds were healed as in the battles of Valhal-la.Copenhagen's history is rich in consolation.

Our faith has been from times of old That God is ever Denmark's friend, If we hold firm,He too will hold, And still the sun shine in the end.

"And soon the sun shone on the rebuilt city,on therich cornfields,on the workers'skill and art;a blessedsummer day of peace,where poetry raised her Fata Mor-gana so rich in colour,with the coming of Oehlenschlger.

"And in science a discovery was made,far greaterthan that of a goldhorn in olden days,a bridge of gold wasfound:

A bridge for thought to dart At all times into other lands and nations.

"Hans Christian Oersted wrote his name there.Andsee!beside the church by the castle was raised a buildingto which the poorest man and woman gave gladly theirmite.

"You remember from the first part of the picture-book,"said Godfather,"the old stone-blocks,which rolleddown from the mountains of Norway,and were carrieddown here on the ice;they are lifted again from the sandybottom at Thorwaldsen's bidding,in marble beauty,love-ly to see!Remember what I have shown you and what Ihave told you!The sand-bank in the sea raised itself upand became a breakwater for the harbour,bore Axel'shouse,bore the bishop's mansion and the king's castle,and now it bears the temple of the beautiful.The words ofthe curse have blown away,but what the children of thesunlight sang in their gladness,about the coming time,has been fulfilled.So many storms have gone past,butmay come again and will again pass.The true and thegood and the beautiful have the victory.

"And with this the picture-book is finished;but notthe history of Copenhagen—far from it.Who knows whatyou yourself may yet live to see!It has often looked blackand blown a gale,but the sunshine is not yet blownaway—that remains;and stronger yet than the strongestsunshine is God!Our Lord reigns over more than Copen-hagen."

So said Godfather,and gave me the book.His eyesshone,he was so certain of the thing.And I took thebook so gladly,so proudly,and so carefully,just as Ilately carried my little sister for the first time.

And Godfather said:"You are quite welcome toshow your picture-book to one or another;you may alsosay that I have made,pasted,and drawn the whole work.But it is a matter of life or death,that they know at oncefrom where I have got the idea of it.You know it,so tellit them!The idea is due to the old oil-lamps,who just,on the last evening they burned,showed for the town'sgas-lights like a Fata Morgana,all that had been seenfrom the time the first lamp was lighted at the harbour,till this evening when Copenhagen was lighted both withoil and gas.

"You may show the book to whom you please,thatis to say,to people with kind eyes and friendly hearts;but if a death-horse should come,then close GODFATHER'S PICTURE-BOOK."

文章来源:安徒生童话

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