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安徒生童话故事第15篇:飞箱The Flying Trunk

童话 时间:2017-10-27 我要投稿
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  引导语:安徒生的童话故事第飞箱还有英文版,欢迎大家阅读与学习。

  从前有一个商人,非常有钱,他的银元可以用来铺满一整条街,而且多余的还可以用来铺一条小巷。不过他没有这样作:他有别的方法使用他的钱,他拿出一个毫子,必定要赚回一些钱。他就是这样一个商人——后来他死了。

  他的儿子现在继承了全部的钱财;他生活得很愉快;他每晚去参加化装跳舞会,用纸币做风筝,用金币——而不用石片——在海边玩着打水漂的游戏。这样,钱就很容易花光了;他的钱就真的这样花光了。最后他只剩下四个毫子,此外还有一双便鞋和一件旧睡衣。他的朋友们现在再也不愿意跟他来往了,因为他再也不能跟他们一道逛街。不过这些朋友中有一位心地很好的人,送给他一只箱子,说:“把你的东西收拾进去吧!”这意思是很好的,但是他并没有什么东西可以收拾进去,因此他就自己坐进箱子里去。

  这是一只很滑稽的箱子。一个人只须把它的锁按一下,这箱子就可以飞起来。它真的飞起来了。嘘——箱子带着他从烟囱里飞出去了,高高地飞到云层里,越飞越远。箱子底发出响声,他非常害怕,怕它裂成碎片,因为这样一来,他的筋斗可就翻得不简单了!愿上帝保佑!他居然飞到土耳奇人住的国度里去了。他把箱子藏在树林里的枯叶子下面,然后就走进城里来。这倒不太困难,因为土耳奇人穿着跟他一样的衣服:一双拖鞋和一件睡衣。他碰到一个牵着孩子的奶妈。

  “喂,您——土耳奇的奶妈,”他说,“城边的那座宫殿的窗子开得那么高,究竟是怎么一回事啊?”

  “那是国王的女儿居住的地方呀!”她说。“有人曾经作过预言,说她将要因为一个爱人而变得非常不幸,因此谁也不能去看她,除非国王和王后也在场。”

  “谢谢您!”商人的儿子说。他回到树林里来,坐进箱子,飞到屋顶上,偷偷地从窗口爬进公主的房间。

  公主正躺在沙发上睡觉。她是那么美丽,商人的儿子忍不住吻了她一下。于是她醒来了,大吃一惊。不过他说他是土耳奇人的神,现在是从空中飞来看她的。这话她听来很舒服。

  这样,他们就挨在一起坐着。他讲了一些关于她的眼睛的故事。他告诉她说:这是一对最美丽的、乌黑的湖,思想像人鱼一样在里面游来游去。于是他又讲了一些关于她的前额的故事。他说它像一座雪山,上面有最华丽的大厅和图画。他又讲了一些关于鹳鸟的故事:它们送来可爱的婴儿。①是的,这都是些好听的故事!于是他向公主求婚。她马上就答应了。

  “不过你在星期六一定要到这儿来,”她说。“那时国王和王后将会来和我一起吃茶!我能跟一位土耳奇人的神结婚,他们一定会感到骄傲。不过,请注意,你得准备一个好听的故事,因为我的父母都是喜欢听故事的。我的母亲喜欢听有教育意义和特殊的故事,但是我的父亲则喜欢听愉快的、逗人发笑的故事!”

  “对,我将不带什么订婚的礼物,而带一个故事来,”他说。这样他们就分手了。但是公主送给他一把剑,上面镶着金币,而这对他特别有用处。

  他飞走了,买了一件新的睡衣。于是他坐在树林里,想编出一个故事。这故事得在星期六编好,而这却不是一件容易的事儿啦。

  他总算把故事编好了,这已经是星期六。

  国王、王后和全体大臣们都到公主的地方来吃茶。他受到非常客气的招待。

  “请您讲一个故事好吗?”王后说,“讲一个高深而富有教育意义的故事。”

  “是的,讲一个使我们发笑的故事!”国王说。

  “当然的,”他说。于是他就开始讲起故事来。现在请你好好地听吧:

  从前有一捆柴火,这些柴火对自己的高贵出身特别感到骄傲。它们的始祖,那就是说一株大枞树,原是树林里一株又大又老的树。这些柴火每一根就是它身上的一块碎片。这捆柴火现在躺在打火匣和老铁罐中间的一个架子上。它们谈起自己年轻时代的那些日子来。

  “是的,”它们说,“当我们在绿枝上的时候,那才真算是在绿枝上啦!每天早上和晚间我们总有珍珠茶喝——这是露珠。太阳只要一出来,我们整天就有太阳光照着,所有的小鸟都来讲故事给我们听。我们可以看得很清楚,我们是非常富有的,因为一般的宽叶树只是在夏天才有衣服穿,而我们家里的人在冬天和夏天都有办法穿上绿衣服。不过,伐木人一来,就要发生一次大的变革:我们的家庭就要破裂。我们的家长成了一条漂亮的船上的主桅——这条船只要它愿意,可以走遍世界。别的枝子就到别的地方去了。而我们的工作却只是一些为平凡的人点火。因此我们这些出自名门的人就到厨房里来了。”

  “我的命运可不同,”站在柴火旁边的老铁罐说。“我一出生到这世界上来,就受到了不少的摩擦和煎熬!我做的是一件实际工作——严格地讲,是这屋子里的第一件工作。我唯一的快乐是在饭后干干净净地,整整齐齐地,躺在架子上,同我的朋友们扯些有道理的闲天。除了那个水罐偶尔到院子里去一下以外,我们老是待在家里的。我们唯一的新闻贩子是那位到市场去买菜的篮子。他常常像煞有介事地报告一些关于政治和老百姓的消息。是的,前天有一个老罐子吓了一跳,跌下来打得粉碎。我可以告诉你,他可是一位喜欢乱讲话的人啦!”

  “你的话讲得未免太多了一点,”打火匣说。这时一块铁在燧石上擦了一下,火星散发出来。“我们不能把这个晚上弄得愉快一点么?”

  “对,我们还是来研究一下谁是最高贵的吧?”柴火说。“不,我不喜欢谈论我自己!”罐子说。“我们还是来开一个晚会吧!我来开始。我来讲一个大家经历过的故事,这样大家就可以欣赏它——这是很愉快的。在波罗的海边,在丹麦的山毛榉树林边——”

  “这是一个很美丽的开端!”所有的盘子一起说。“这的确是我所喜欢的故事!”

  “是的,我就在那儿一个安静的家庭里度过我的童年。家具都擦得很亮,地板洗得很干净,窗帘每半月换一次。”

  “你讲故事的方式真有趣!”鸡毛帚说。“人们一听就知道,这是一个女人在讲故事。整个故事中充满了一种清洁的味道。”

  “是的,人们可以感觉到这一点。”水罐子说。她一时高兴,就跳了一下,把水洒了一地板。

  罐子继续讲故事。故事的结尾跟开头一样好。

  所有的盘子都快乐得闹起来。鸡毛帚从一个沙洞里带来一根绿芹菜,把它当做一个花冠戴在罐子头上。他知道这会使别人讨厌。“我今天为她戴上花冠,”他想,“她明天也就会为我戴上花冠的。”

  “现在我要跳舞了,”火钳说,于是就跳起来。天啦!这婆娘居然也能翘起一只腿来!墙角里的那个旧椅套子也裂开来看它跳舞。“我也能戴上花冠吗?”火钳说。果然不错,她得到了一个花冠。

  “这是一群乌合之众!”柴火想。

  现在茶壶开始唱起歌来。但是她说她伤了风,除非她在沸腾,否则就不能唱。但这不过是装模作样罢了:她除非在主人面前,站在桌子上,她是不愿意唱的。

  老鹅毛笔坐在桌子边——女佣人常常用它来写字:这支笔并没有什么了不起的地方,他只是常被深插在墨水瓶之中,但他对于这点却感到非常骄傲。“如果茶壶不愿意唱,”他说,“那么就去她的吧!外边挂着的笼子里有一只夜莺——他唱得蛮好,他没有受过任何教育,不过我们今晚可以不提这件事情。”

  “我觉得,”茶壶说——“他是厨房的歌手,同时也是茶壶的异母兄弟——我们要听这样一只外国鸟唱歌是非常不对的。这算是爱国吗?让上街的菜篮来评判一下吧?”

  “我有点烦恼,”菜篮说。“谁也想象不到我内心里是多么烦恼!这能算得上是晚上的消遣吗?把我们这个家整顿整顿一下岂不是更好吗?请大家各归原位,让我来布置整个的游戏吧。这样,事情才会改变!”

  “是的,我们来闹一下吧!”大家齐声说。

  正在这时候,门开了。女佣人走进来了,大家都静静地站着不动,谁也不敢说半句话。不过在他们当中,没有哪一只壶不是满以为自己有一套办法,自己是多么高贵。“只要我愿意,”每一位都是这样想,“这一晚可以变得很愉快!”

  女佣人拿起柴火,点起一把火。天啦!火烧得多么响!多么亮啊!

  “现在每个人都可以看到,”他们想,“我们是头等人物。我们照得多么亮!我们的光是多么大啊!”——于是他们就都烧完了。

  “这是一个出色的故事!”王后说。“我觉得自己好像就在厨房里,跟柴火在一道。是的,我们可以把女儿嫁给你了。”

  “是的,当然!”国王说,“你在星期一就跟我们的女儿结婚吧。”

  他们用“你”来称呼他,因为他现在是属于他们一家的了。②

  举行婚礼的日子已经确定了。在结婚的头天晚上,全城都大放光明。饼干和点心都随便在街上散发给群众。小孩子用脚尖站着,高声喊“万岁!”同时用手指吹起口哨来。真是非常热闹。

  “是的,我也应该让大家快乐一下才对!”商人的儿子想。因此他买了些焰火和炮竹,以及种种可以想象得到的鞭炮。他把这些东西装进箱子里,于是向空中飞去。

  “啪!”放得多好!放得多响啊!

  所有的土耳奇人一听见就跳起来,弄得他们的拖鞋都飞到耳朵旁边去了。他们从来没有看见过这样的火球。他们现在知道了,要跟公主结婚的人就是土耳奇的神。

  商人的儿子坐着飞箱又落到森林里去,他马上想,“我现在要到城里去一趟,看看这究竟产生了什么效果。”他有这样一个愿望,当然也是很自然的。

  嗨,老百姓讲的话才多哩!他所问到的每一个人都有自己的一套故事。不过大家都觉得那是很美的。

  “我亲眼看到那位土耳奇的神,”一个说:“他的眼睛像一对发光的星星,他的胡须像起泡沫的水!”

  “他穿着一件火外套飞行,”另外一个说:“许多最美丽的天使藏在他的衣褶里向外窥望。”

  是的,他所听到的都是最美妙的传说。在第二天他就要结婚了。

  他现在回到森林里来,想坐进他的箱子里去。不过箱子到哪儿去了呢?箱子被烧掉了。焰火的一颗火星落下来,点起了一把火。箱子已经化成灰烬了。他再也飞不起来了。也没有办法到他的新娘子那儿去。

  她在屋顶上等待了一整天。她现在还在那儿等待着哩。而他呢,他在这个茫茫的世界里跑来跑去讲儿童故事;不过这些故事再也不像他所讲的那个“柴火的故事”一样有趣。

 

  飞箱英文版:

  The Flying Trunk

  THERE was once a merchant who was so rich that he could have paved the whole street with gold, and would even then have had enough for a small alley. But he did not do so; he knew the value of money better than to use it in this way. So clever was he, that every shilling he put out brought him a crown; and so he continued till he died. His son inherited his wealth, and he lived a merry life with it; he went to a masquerade every night, made kites out of five pound notes, and threw pieces of gold into the sea instead of stones, making ducks and drakes of them. In this manner he soon lost all his money. At last he had nothing left but a pair of slippers, an old dressing-gown, and four shillings. And now all his friends deserted him, they could not walk with him in the streets; but one of them, who was very good-natured, sent him an old trunk with this message, “Pack up!” “Yes,” he said, “it is all very well to say ‘pack up,’” but he had nothing left to pack up, therefore he seated himself in the trunk. It was a very wonderful trunk; no sooner did any one press on the lock than the trunk could fly. He shut the lid and pressed the lock, when away flew the trunk up the chimney with the merchant’s son in it, right up into the clouds. Whenever the bottom of the trunk cracked, he was in a great fright, for if the trunk fell to pieces he would have made a tremendous somerset over the trees. However, he got safely in his trunk to the land of Turkey. He hid the trunk in the wood under some dry leaves, and then went into the town: he could so this very well, for the Turks always go about dressed in dressing-gowns and slippers, as he was himself. He happened to meet a nurse with a little child. “I say, you Turkish nurse,” cried he, “what castle is that near the town, with the windows placed so high?”

安徒生童话故事第15篇:飞箱 The Flying Trunk

  “The king’s daughter lives there,” she replied; “it has been prophesied that she will be very unhappy about a lover, and therefore no one is allowed to visit her, unless the king and queen are present.”

  “Thank you,” said the merchant’s son. So he went back to the wood, seated himself in his trunk, flew up to the roof of the castle, and crept through the window into the princess’s room. She lay on the sofa asleep, and she was so beautiful that the merchant’s son could not help kissing her. Then she awoke, and was very much frightened; but he told her he was a Turkish angel, who had come down through the air to see her, which pleased her very much. He sat down by her side and talked to her: he said her eyes were like beautiful dark lakes, in which the thoughts swam about like little mermaids, and he told her that her forehead was a snowy mountain, which contained splendid halls full of pictures. And then he related to her about the stork who brings the beautiful children from the rivers. These were delightful stories; and when he asked the princess if she would marry him, she consented immediately.

  “But you must come on Saturday,” she said; “for then the king and queen will take tea with me. They will be very proud when they find that I am going to marry a Turkish angel; but you must think of some very pretty stories to tell them, for my parents like to hear stories better than anything. My mother prefers one that is deep and moral; but my father likes something funny, to make him laugh.”

  “Very well,” he replied; “I shall bring you no other marriage portion than a story,” and so they parted. But the princess gave him a sword which was studded with gold coins, and these he could use.

  Then he flew away to the town and bought a new dressing-gown, and afterwards returned to the wood, where he composed a story, so as to be ready for Saturday, which was no easy matter. It was ready however by Saturday, when he went to see the princess. The king, and queen, and the whole court, were at tea with the princess; and he was received with great politeness.

  “Will you tell us a story?” said the queen,—“one that is instructive and full of deep learning.”

  “Yes, but with something in it to laugh at,” said the king.

  “Certainly,” he replied, and commenced at once, asking them to listen attentively. “There was once a bundle of matches that were exceedingly proud of their high descent. Their genealogical tree, that is, a large pine-tree from which they had been cut, was at one time a large, old tree in the wood. The matches now lay between a tinder-box and an old iron saucepan, and were talking about their youthful days. ‘Ah! then we grew on the green boughs, and were as green as they; every morning and evening we were fed with diamond drops of dew. Whenever the sun shone, we felt his warm rays, and the little birds would relate stories to us as they sung. We knew that we were rich, for the other trees only wore their green dress in summer, but our family were able to array themselves in green, summer and winter. But the wood-cutter came, like a great revolution, and our family fell under the axe. The head of the house obtained a situation as mainmast in a very fine ship, and can sail round the world when he will. The other branches of the family were taken to different places, and our office now is to kindle a light for common people. This is how such high-born people as we came to be in a kitchen.’

  “‘Mine has been a very different fate,’ said the iron pot, which stood by the matches; ‘from my first entrance into the world I have been used to cooking and scouring. I am the first in this house, when anything solid or useful is required. My only pleasure is to be made clean and shining after dinner, and to sit in my place and have a little sensible conversation with my neighbors. All of us, excepting the water-bucket, which is sometimes taken into the courtyard, live here together within these four walls. We get our news from the market-basket, but he sometimes tells us very unpleasant things about the people and the government. Yes, and one day an old pot was so alarmed, that he fell down and was broken to pieces. He was a liberal, I can tell you.’

  “‘You are talking too much,’ said the tinder-box, and the steel struck against the flint till some sparks flew out, crying, ‘We want a merry evening, don’t we?’

  “‘Yes, of course,’ said the matches, ‘let us talk about those who are the highest born.’

  “‘No, I don’t like to be always talking of what we are,’ remarked the saucepan; ‘let us think of some other amusement; I will begin. We will tell something that has happened to ourselves; that will be very easy, and interesting as well. On the Baltic Sea, near the Danish shore’—

  “‘What a pretty commencement!’ said the plates; ‘we shall all like that story, I am sure.’

  “‘Yes; well in my youth, I lived in a quiet family, where the furniture was polished, the floors scoured, and clean curtains put up every fortnight,’

  “‘What an interesting way you have of relating a story,’ said the carpet-broom; ‘it is easy to perceive that you have been a great deal in women’s society, there is something so pure runs through what you say.’

  “‘That is quite true,’ said the water-bucket; and he made a spring with joy, and splashed some water on the floor.

  “Then the saucepan went on with his story, and the end was as good as the beginning.

  “The plates rattled with pleasure, and the carpet-broom brought some green parsley out of the dust-hole and crowned the saucepan, for he knew it would vex the others; and he thought, ‘If I crown him to-day he will crown me to-morrow.’

  “‘Now, let us have a dance,’ said the fire-tongs; and then how they danced and stuck up one leg in the air. The chair-cushion in the corner burst with laughter when she saw it.

  “‘Shall I be crowned now?’ asked the fire-tongs; so the broom found another wreath for the tongs.

  “‘They were only common people after all,’ thought the matches. The tea-urn was now asked to sing, but she said she had a cold, and could not sing without boiling heat. They all thought this was affectation, and because she did not wish to sing excepting in the parlor, when on the table with the grand people.

  “In the window sat an old quill-pen, with which the maid generally wrote. There was nothing remarkable about the pen, excepting that it had been dipped too deeply in the ink, but it was proud of that.

  “‘If the tea-urn won’t sing,’ said the pen, ‘she can leave it alone; there is a nightingale in a cage who can sing; she has not been taught much, certainly, but we need not say anything this evening about that.’

  “‘I think it highly improper,’ said the tea-kettle, who was kitchen singer, and half-brother to the tea-urn, ‘that a rich foreign bird should be listened to here. Is it patriotic? Let the market-basket decide what is right.’

  “‘I certainly am vexed,’ said the basket; ‘inwardly vexed, more than any one can imagine. Are we spending the evening properly? Would it not be more sensible to put the house in order? If each were in his own place I would lead a game; this would be quite another thing.’

  “‘Let us act a play,’ said they all. At the same moment the door opened, and the maid came in. Then not one stirred; they all remained quite still; yet, at the same time, there was not a single pot amongst them who had not a high opinion of himself, and of what he could do if he chose.

  “‘Yes, if we had chosen,’ they each thought, ‘we might have spent a very pleasant evening.’

  “The maid took the matches and lighted them; dear me, how they sputtered and blazed up!

  “‘Now then,’ they thought, ‘every one will see that we are the first. How we shine; what a light we give!’ Even while they spoke their light went out.

  “What a capital story,” said the queen, “I feel as if I were really in the kitchen, and could see the matches; yes, you shall marry our daughter.”

安徒生童话故事第15篇:飞箱 The Flying Trunk

  “Certainly,” said the king, “thou shalt have our daughter.” The king said thou to him because he was going to be one of the family. The wedding-day was fixed, and, on the evening before, the whole city was illuminated. Cakes and sweetmeats were thrown among the people. The street boys stood on tiptoe and shouted “hurrah,” and whistled between their fingers; altogether it was a very splendid affair.

  “I will give them another treat,” said the merchant’s son. So he went and bought rockets and crackers, and all sorts of fire-works that could be thought of, packed them in his trunk, and flew up with it into the air. What a whizzing and popping they made as they went off! The Turks, when they saw such a sight in the air, jumped so high that their slippers flew about their ears. It was easy to believe after this that the princess was really going to marry a Turkish angel.

  As soon as the merchant’s son had come down in his flying trunk to the wood after the fireworks, he thought, “I will go back into the town now, and hear what they think of the entertainment.” It was very natural that he should wish to know. And what strange things people did say, to be sure! every one whom he questioned had a different tale to tell, though they all thought it very beautiful.

  “ I saw the Turkish angel myself,” said one; “he had eyes like glittering stars, and a head like foaming water.”

  “He flew in a mantle of fire,” cried another, “and lovely little cherubs peeped out from the folds.”

  He heard many more fine things about himself, and that the next day he was to be married. After this he went back to the forest to rest himself in his trunk. It had disappeared! A spark from the fireworks which remained had set it on fire; it was burnt to ashes! So the merchant’s son could not fly any more, nor go to meet his bride. She stood all day on the roof waiting for him, and most likely she is waiting there still; while he wanders through the world telling fairy tales, but none of them so amusing as the one he related about the matches.

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