安徒生童話故事第15篇：飛箱The Flying Trunk

　　引導語：安徒生的童話故事第飛箱還有英文版，歡迎大家閱讀與學習。

　　從前有一個商人，非常有錢，他的銀元可以用來鋪滿一整條街，而且多余的還可以用來鋪一條小巷。不過他沒有這樣作：他有別的方法使用他的錢，他拿出一個毫子，必定要賺回一些錢。他就是這樣一個商人——后來他死了。

　　他的兒子現在繼承了全部的錢財;他生活得很愉快;他每晚去參加化裝跳舞會，用紙幣做風箏，用金幣——而不用石片——在海邊玩著打水漂的游戲。這樣，錢就很容易花光了;他的錢就真的這樣花光了。最后他只剩下四個毫子，此外還有一雙便鞋和一件舊睡衣。他的朋友們現在再也不愿意跟他來往了，因為他再也不能跟他們一道逛街。不過這些朋友中有一位心地很好的人，送給他一只箱子，說：“把你的東西收拾進去吧!”這意思是很好的，但是他并沒有什么東西可以收拾進去，因此他就自己坐進箱子里去。

　　這是一只很滑稽的箱子。一個人只須把它的鎖按一下，這箱子就可以飛起來。它真的飛起來了。噓——箱子帶著他從煙囪里飛出去了，高高地飛到云層里，越飛越遠。箱子底發出響聲，他非常害怕，怕它裂成碎片，因為這樣一來，他的筋斗可就翻得不簡單了!愿上帝保佑!他居然飛到土耳奇人住的國度里去了。他把箱子藏在樹林里的枯葉子下面，然后就走進城里來。這倒不太困難，因為土耳奇人穿著跟他一樣的衣服：一雙拖鞋和一件睡衣。他碰到一個牽著孩子的奶媽。

　　“喂，您——土耳奇的奶媽，”他說，“城邊的那座宮殿的窗子開得那么高，究竟是怎么一回事啊?”

　　“那是國王的女兒居住的地方呀!”她說。“有人曾經作過預言，說她將要因為一個愛人而變得非常不幸，因此誰也不能去看她，除非國王和王后也在場。”

　　“謝謝您!”商人的兒子說。他回到樹林里來，坐進箱子，飛到屋頂上，偷偷地從窗口爬進公主的房間。

　　公主正躺在沙發上睡覺。她是那么美麗，商人的兒子忍不住吻了她一下。于是她醒來了，大吃一驚。不過他說他是土耳奇人的神，現在是從空中飛來看她的。這話她聽來很舒服。

　　這樣，他們就挨在一起坐著。他講了一些關于她的眼睛的故事。他告訴她說：這是一對最美麗的、烏黑的湖，思想像人魚一樣在里面游來游去。于是他又講了一些關于她的前額的故事。他說它像一座雪山，上面有最華麗的大廳和圖畫。他又講了一些關于鸛鳥的故事：它們送來可愛的嬰兒。①是的，這都是些好聽的故事!于是他向公主求婚。她馬上就答應了。

　　“不過你在星期六一定要到這兒來，”她說。“那時國王和王后將會來和我一起吃茶!我能跟一位土耳奇人的神結婚，他們一定會感到驕傲。不過，請注意，你得準備一個好聽的故事，因為我的父母都是喜歡聽故事的。我的母親喜歡聽有教育意義和特殊的故事，但是我的父親則喜歡聽愉快的、逗人發笑的故事!”

　　“對，我將不帶什么訂婚的禮物，而帶一個故事來，”他說。這樣他們就分手了。但是公主送給他一把劍，上面鑲著金幣，而這對他特別有用處。

　　他飛走了，買了一件新的睡衣。于是他坐在樹林里，想編出一個故事。這故事得在星期六編好，而這卻不是一件容易的事兒啦。

　　他總算把故事編好了，這已經是星期六。

　　國王、王后和全體大臣們都到公主的地方來吃茶。他受到非常客氣的招待。

　　“請您講一個故事好嗎?”王后說，“講一個高深而富有教育意義的故事。”

　　“是的，講一個使我們發笑的故事!”國王說。

　　“當然的，”他說。于是他就開始講起故事來。現在請你好好地聽吧：

　　從前有一捆柴火，這些柴火對自己的高貴出身特別感到驕傲。它們的始祖，那就是說一株大樅樹，原是樹林里一株又大又老的樹。這些柴火每一根就是它身上的一塊碎片。這捆柴火現在躺在打火匣和老鐵罐中間的一個架子上。它們談起自己年輕時代的那些日子來。

　　“是的，”它們說，“當我們在綠枝上的時候，那才真算是在綠枝上啦!每天早上和晚間我們總有珍珠茶喝——這是露珠。太陽只要一出來，我們整天就有太陽光照著，所有的小鳥都來講故事給我們聽。我們可以看得很清楚，我們是非常富有的，因為一般的寬葉樹只是在夏天才有衣服穿，而我們家里的人在冬天和夏天都有辦法穿上綠衣服。不過，伐木人一來，就要發生一次大的變革：我們的家庭就要破裂。我們的家長成了一條漂亮的船上的主桅——這條船只要它愿意，可以走遍世界。別的枝子就到別的地方去了。而我們的工作卻只是一些為平凡的人點火。因此我們這些出自名門的人就到廚房里來了。”

　　“我的命運可不同，”站在柴火旁邊的老鐵罐說。“我一出生到這世界上來，就受到了不少的摩擦和煎熬!我做的是一件實際工作——嚴格地講，是這屋子里的第一件工作。我唯一的快樂是在飯后干干凈凈地，整整齊齊地，躺在架子上，同我的朋友們扯些有道理的閑天。除了那個水罐偶爾到院子里去一下以外，我們老是待在家里的。我們唯一的新聞販子是那位到市場去買菜的籃子。他常常像煞有介事地報告一些關于政治和老百姓的消息。是的，前天有一個老罐子嚇了一跳，跌下來打得粉碎。我可以告訴你，他可是一位喜歡亂講話的人啦!”

　　“你的話講得未免太多了一點，”打火匣說。這時一塊鐵在燧石上擦了一下，火星散發出來。“我們不能把這個晚上弄得愉快一點么?”

　　“對，我們還是來研究一下誰是最高貴的吧?”柴火說。“不，我不喜歡談論我自己!”罐子說。“我們還是來開一個晚會吧!我來開始。我來講一個大家經歷過的故事，這樣大家就可以欣賞它——這是很愉快的。在波羅的海邊，在丹麥的山毛櫸樹林邊——”

　　“這是一個很美麗的開端!”所有的盤子一起說。“這的確是我所喜歡的故事!”

　　“是的，我就在那兒一個安靜的家庭里度過我的童年。家具都擦得很亮，地板洗得很干凈，窗簾每半月換一次。”

　　“你講故事的方式真有趣!”雞毛帚說。“人們一聽就知道，這是一個女人在講故事。整個故事中充滿了一種清潔的味道。”

　　“是的，人們可以感覺到這一點。”水罐子說。她一時高興，就跳了一下，把水灑了一地板。

　　罐子繼續講故事。故事的結尾跟開頭一樣好。

　　所有的盤子都快樂得鬧起來。雞毛帚從一個沙洞里帶來一根綠芹菜，把它當做一個花冠戴在罐子頭上。他知道這會使別人討厭。“我今天為她戴上花冠，”他想，“她明天也就會為我戴上花冠的。”

　　“現在我要跳舞了，”火鉗說，于是就跳起來。天啦!這婆娘居然也能翹起一只腿來!墻角里的那個舊椅套子也裂開來看它跳舞。“我也能戴上花冠嗎?”火鉗說。果然不錯，她得到了一個花冠。

　　“這是一群烏合之眾!”柴火想。

　　現在茶壺開始唱起歌來。但是她說她傷了風，除非她在沸騰，否則就不能唱。但這不過是裝模作樣罷了：她除非在主人面前，站在桌子上，她是不愿意唱的。

　　老鵝毛筆坐在桌子邊——女傭人常常用它來寫字：這支筆并沒有什么了不起的地方，他只是常被深插在墨水瓶之中，但他對于這點卻感到非常驕傲。“如果茶壺不愿意唱，”他說，“那么就去她的吧!外邊掛著的籠子里有一只夜鶯——他唱得蠻好，他沒有受過任何教育，不過我們今晚可以不提這件事情。”

　　“我覺得，”茶壺說——“他是廚房的歌手，同時也是茶壺的異母兄弟——我們要聽這樣一只外國鳥唱歌是非常不對的。這算是愛國嗎?讓上街的菜籃來評判一下吧?”

　　“我有點煩惱，”菜籃說。“誰也想象不到我內心里是多么煩惱!這能算得上是晚上的消遣嗎?把我們這個家整頓整頓一下豈不是更好嗎?請大家各歸原位，讓我來布置整個的游戲吧。這樣，事情才會改變!”

　　“是的，我們來鬧一下吧!”大家齊聲說。

　　正在這時候，門開了。女傭人走進來了，大家都靜靜地站著不動，誰也不敢說半句話。不過在他們當中，沒有哪一只壺不是滿以為自己有一套辦法，自己是多么高貴。“只要我愿意，”每一位都是這樣想，“這一晚可以變得很愉快!”

　　女傭人拿起柴火，點起一把火。天啦!火燒得多么響!多么亮啊!

　　“現在每個人都可以看到，”他們想，“我們是頭等人物。我們照得多么亮!我們的光是多么大啊!”——于是他們就都燒完了。

　　“這是一個出色的故事!”王后說。“我覺得自己好像就在廚房里，跟柴火在一道。是的，我們可以把女兒嫁給你了。”

　　“是的，當然!”國王說，“你在星期一就跟我們的女兒結婚吧。”

　　他們用“你”來稱呼他，因為他現在是屬于他們一家的了。②

　　舉行婚禮的日子已經確定了。在結婚的頭天晚上，全城都大放光明。餅干和點心都隨便在街上散發給群眾。小孩子用腳尖站著，高聲喊“萬歲!”同時用手指吹起口哨來。真是非常熱鬧。

　　“是的，我也應該讓大家快樂一下才對!”商人的兒子想。因此他買了些焰火和炮竹，以及種種可以想象得到的鞭炮。他把這些東西裝進箱子里，于是向空中飛去。

　　“啪!”放得多好!放得多響啊!

　　所有的土耳奇人一聽見就跳起來，弄得他們的拖鞋都飛到耳朵旁邊去了。他們從來沒有看見過這樣的火球。他們現在知道了，要跟公主結婚的人就是土耳奇的神。

　　商人的兒子坐著飛箱又落到森林里去，他馬上想，“我現在要到城里去一趟，看看這究竟產生了什么效果。”他有這樣一個愿望，當然也是很自然的。

　　嗨，老百姓講的話才多哩!他所問到的每一個人都有自己的一套故事。不過大家都覺得那是很美的。

　　“我親眼看到那位土耳奇的神，”一個說：“他的眼睛像一對發光的星星，他的胡須像起泡沫的水!”

　　“他穿著一件火外套飛行，”另外一個說：“許多最美麗的天使藏在他的衣褶里向外窺望。”

　　是的，他所聽到的都是最美妙的傳說。在第二天他就要結婚了。

　　他現在回到森林里來，想坐進他的箱子里去。不過箱子到哪兒去了呢?箱子被燒掉了。焰火的一顆火星落下來，點起了一把火。箱子已經化成灰燼了。他再也飛不起來了。也沒有辦法到他的新娘子那兒去。

　　她在屋頂上等待了一整天。她現在還在那兒等待著哩。而他呢，他在這個茫茫的世界里跑來跑去講兒童故事;不過這些故事再也不像他所講的那個“柴火的故事”一樣有趣。

 

　　飛箱英文版：

　　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?”

　　“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.”

　　“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.