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安徒生童話故事第35篇：紅鞋The Red Shoes
引導語：安徒生是著名的童話作家，下面是小編收集的他的童話故事紅鞋，歡迎大家閱讀!
從前有一個小女孩——一個非常可愛的、漂亮的小女孩。不過她夏天得打著一雙赤腳走路，因為她很貧窮。冬天她拖著一雙沉重的木鞋，腳背都給磨紅了，這是很不好受的。
在村子的正中央住著一個年老的女鞋匠。她用舊紅布匹，坐下來盡她最大的努力縫出了一雙小鞋。這雙鞋的樣子相當笨，但是她的用意很好，因為這雙鞋是為這個小女孩縫的。這個小姑娘名叫珈倫。
在她的媽媽入葬的那天，她得到了這雙紅鞋。這是她第一次穿。的確，這不是服喪時穿的東西;但是她卻沒有別的鞋子穿。所以她就把一雙小赤腳伸進去，跟在一個簡陋的棺材后面走。
這時候忽然有一輛很大的舊車子開過來了。車子里坐著一位年老的太太。她看到了這位小姑娘，非常可憐她，于是就對牧師①說：
“把這小姑娘交給我吧，我會待她很好的!”
珈倫以為這是因為她那雙紅鞋的緣故。不過老太太說紅鞋很討厭，所以把這雙鞋燒掉了。不過現在珈倫卻穿起干凈整齊的衣服來。她學著讀書和做針線，別人都說她很可愛。不過她的鏡子說：“你不但可愛;你簡直是美麗。”
有一次皇后旅行全國;她帶著她的小女兒一道，而這就是一個公主。老百姓都擁到宮殿門口來看，珈倫也在他們中間。那位小公主穿著美麗的白衣服，站在窗子里面，讓大家來看她。她既沒有拖著后裾，也沒有戴上金王冠，但是她穿著一雙華麗的紅鞣皮鞋。比起那個女鞋匠為小珈倫做的那雙鞋來，這雙鞋當然是漂亮得多。世界上沒有什么東西能跟紅鞋比較!
現在珈倫已經很大，可以受堅信禮了。她將會有新衣服穿;她也會穿到新鞋子。城里一個富有的鞋匠把她的小腳量了一下——這件事是在他自己店里、在他自己的一個小房間里做的。那兒有許多大玻璃架子，里面陳列著許多整齊的鞋子和擦得發亮的靴子。這全都很漂亮，不過那位老太太的眼睛看不清楚，所以不感到興趣。在這許多鞋子之中有一雙紅鞋;它跟公主所穿的那雙一模一樣。它們是多么美麗啊!鞋匠說這雙鞋是為一位伯爵的小姐做的，但是它們不太合她的腳。
“那一定是漆皮做的，”老太太說，“因此才這樣發亮!”
“是的，發亮!"珈倫說。
鞋子很合她的腳，所以她就買下來了。不過老太太不知道那是紅色的，因為她決不會讓珈倫穿著一雙紅鞋去受堅信禮。但是珈倫卻去了。
所有的人都在望著她的那雙腳。當她在教堂里走向那個圣詩歌唱班門口的時候，她就覺得好像那些墓石上的雕像，那些戴著硬領和穿著黑長袍的牧師，以及他們的太太的畫像都在盯著她的一雙紅鞋。牧師把手擱在她的頭上，講著神圣的洗禮、她與上帝的誓約以及當一個基督徒的責任，正在這時候，她心中只想著她的這雙鞋。風琴奏出莊嚴的音樂來，孩子們的悅耳的聲音唱著圣詩，那個年老的圣詩隊長也在唱，但是珈倫只想著她的紅鞋。
那天下午老太太聽大家說那雙鞋是紅的。于是她就說，這未免太胡鬧了，太不成體統了。她還說，從此以后，珈倫再到教堂去，必須穿著黑鞋子，即使是舊的也沒有關系。
下一個星期日要舉行圣餐。珈倫看了看那雙黑鞋，又看了看那雙紅鞋——再一次又看了看紅鞋，最后決定還是穿上那雙紅鞋。
太陽照耀得非常美麗。珈倫和老太太在田野的小徑上走。路上有些灰塵。
教堂門口有一個殘廢的老兵，拄著一根拐杖站著。他留著一把很奇怪的長胡子。這胡子與其說是白的，還不如說是紅的——因為它本來就是紅的。他把腰幾乎彎到地上去了;他回老太太說，他可不可以擦擦她鞋子上的灰塵。珈倫也把她的小腳伸出來。
“這是多么漂亮的舞鞋啊!”老兵說，“你在跳舞的時候穿它最合適!”于是他就用手在鞋底上敲了幾下。老太太送了幾個銀毫給這兵士，然后便帶著珈倫走進教堂里去了。
教堂里所有的人都望著珈倫的這雙紅鞋，所有的畫像也都在望著它們。當珈倫跪在圣餐臺面前、嘴里銜著金圣餐杯的時候，她只想著她的紅鞋——它們似乎是浮在她面前的圣餐杯里。她忘記了唱圣詩;她忘記了念禱告。
現在大家都走出了教堂。老太太走進她的車子里去，珈倫也抬起腳踏進車子里去。這時站在旁邊的那個老兵說：“多么美麗的舞鞋啊!”
珈倫經不起這番贊美：她要跳幾個步子。她一開始，一雙腿就不停地跳起來。這雙鞋好像控制住了她的腿似的。她繞著教堂的一角跳——她沒有辦法停下來。車夫不得不跟在她后面跑，把她抓住，抱進車子里去。不過她的一雙腳仍在跳，結果她猛烈地踢到那位好心腸的太太身上去了。最后他們脫下她的鞋子;這樣，她的腿才算安靜下來。
這雙鞋子被放在家里的一個櫥柜里，但是珈倫忍不住要去看看。
現在老太太病得躺下來了;大家都說她大概是不會好了。她得有人看護和照料，但這種工作不應該是別人而應該是由珈倫做的。不過這時城里有一個盛大的舞會，珈倫也被請去了。她望了望這位好不了的老太太，又瞧了瞧那雙紅鞋——她覺得瞧瞧也沒有什么害處。她穿上了這雙鞋——穿穿也沒有什么害處。不過這么一來，她就去參加舞會了，而且開始跳起舞來。
但是當她要向右轉的時候，鞋子卻向左邊跳。當她想要向上走的時候，鞋子卻要向下跳，要走下樓梯，一直走到街上，走出城門。她舞著，而且不得不舞，一直舞到黑森林里去。
樹林中有一道光。她想這一定是月亮了，因為她看到一個面孔。不過這是那個有紅胡子的老兵。他在坐著，點著頭，同時說：
“多么美麗的舞鞋啊!”
這時她就害怕起來，想把這雙紅鞋扔掉。但是它們扣得很緊。于是她扯著她的襪子，但是鞋已經生到她腳上去了。她跳起舞來，而且不得不跳到田野和草原上去，在雨里跳，在太陽里也跳，在夜里跳，在白天也跳。最可怕的是在夜里跳。她跳到一個教堂的墓地里去，不過那兒的死者并不跳舞：他們有比跳舞還要好的事情要做。她想在一個長滿了苦艾菊的窮人的墳上坐下來，不過她靜不下來，也沒有辦法休息。當她跳到教堂敞著的大門口的時候，她看到一位穿白長袍的安琪兒。她的翅膀從肩上一直拖到腳下，她的面孔是莊嚴而沉著，手中拿著一把明晃晃的劍。
“你得跳舞呀!”她說，“穿著你的紅鞋跳舞，一直跳到你發白和發冷，一直跳到你的身體干縮成為一架骸骨。你要從這家門口跳到那家門口。你要到一些驕傲自大的孩子們住著的地方去敲門，好叫他們聽到你，怕你!你要跳舞，不停地跳舞!”
“請饒了我吧!”珈倫叫起來。
不過她沒有聽到安琪兒的回答，因為這雙鞋把她帶出門，到田野上去了，帶到大路上和小路上去了。她得不停地跳舞。有一天早晨她跳過一個很熟識的門口。里面有唱圣詩的聲音，人們抬出一口棺材，上面裝飾著花朵。這時她才知道那個老太太已經死了。于是她覺得她已經被大家遺棄，被上帝的安琪兒責罰。
她跳著舞，她不得不跳著舞——在漆黑的夜里跳著舞。這雙鞋帶著她走過荊棘的野薔薇;這些東西把她刺得流血。她在荒地上跳，一直跳到一個孤零零的小屋子面前去。她知道這兒住著一個劊子手。她用手指在玻璃窗上敲了一下，同時說：
“請出來吧!請出來吧!我進來不了呀，因為我在跳舞!”劊子手說：
“你也許不知道我是誰吧?我就是砍掉壞人腦袋的人呀。我已經感覺到我的斧子在顫動!”
“請不要砍掉我的頭吧，”珈倫說，“因為如果你這樣做，那么我就不能懺悔我的罪過了。但是請你把我這雙穿著紅鞋的腳砍掉吧!”
于是她就說出了她的罪過。劊子手把她那雙穿著紅鞋的腳砍掉。不過這雙鞋帶著她的小腳跳到田野上，一直跳到深黑的森林里去了。
他為她配了一雙木腳和一根拐杖，同時教給她一首死囚們常常唱的圣詩。她吻了一下那只握著斧子的手，然后就向荒地上走去。
“我為這雙紅鞋已經吃了不少的苦頭，”她說，“現在我要到教堂里去，好讓人們看看我。”
于是她就很快地向教堂的大門走去，但是當她走到那兒的時候，那雙紅鞋就在她面前跳著舞，弄得她害怕起來。所以她就走回來。
她悲哀地過了整整一個星期，流了許多傷心的眼淚。不過當星期日到來的時候，她說：
“唉，我受苦和斗爭已經夠久了!我想我現在跟教堂里那些昂著頭的人沒有什么兩樣!”
于是她就大膽地走出去。但是當她剛剛走到教堂門口的時候，她又看到那雙紅鞋在她面前跳舞：這時她害怕起來，馬上往回走，同時虔誠地懺悔她的罪過。
她走到牧師的家里去，請求在他家當一個傭人。她愿意勤懇地工作，盡她的力量做事。她不計較工資;她只是希望有一個住處，跟好人在一起。牧師的太太憐憫她，把她留下來做活。她是很勤快和用心思的。晚間，當牧師在高聲地朗讀《圣經》的時候，她就靜靜地坐下來聽。這家的孩子都喜歡她。不過當他們談到衣服、排場利像皇后那樣的美麗的時候，她就搖搖頭。
第二個星期天，一家人全到教堂去做禮拜。他們問她是不是也愿意去。她滿眼含著淚珠，凄慘地把她的拐杖望了一下。于是這家人就去聽上帝的訓誡了。只有她孤獨地回到她的小房間里去。這兒不太寬，只能放一張床和一張椅子。她拿著一本圣詩集坐在這兒，用一顆虔誠的心來讀里面的字句。風兒把教堂的風琴聲向她吹來。她抬起被眼淚潤濕了的臉，說：
“上帝啊，請幫助我!”
這時太陽在光明地照著。一位穿白衣服的安琪兒——她一天晚上在教堂門口見到過的那位安琪兒——在她面前出現了。不過她手中不再是拿著那把銳利的劍，而是拿著一根開滿了玫瑰花的綠枝。她用它觸了一下天花板，于是天花板就升得很高。凡是她所觸到的地方，就有一顆明亮的金星出現。她把墻觸了一下，于是墻就分開。這時她就看到那架奏著音樂的風琴和繪著牧師及牧師太太的一些古老畫像。做禮拜的人都坐在很講究的席位上，唱著圣詩集里的詩。如果說這不是教堂自動來到這個狹小房間里的可憐的女孩面前，那就是她已經到了教堂里面去。她和牧師家里的人一同坐在席位上。當他們念完了圣詩、抬起頭來看的時候，他們就點點頭，說：“對了，珈倫，你也到這兒來了!”
“我得到了寬恕!”她說。
風琴奏著音樂。孩子們的合唱是非常好聽和可愛的。明朗的太陽光溫暖地從窗子那兒射到珈倫坐的席位上來。她的心充滿了那么多的陽光、和平和快樂，弄得后來爆裂了。她的靈魂飄在太陽的光線上飛進天國。誰也沒有再問她的那雙紅鞋。
①在舊時的歐洲，孤兒沒有家，就由當地的牧師照管。
紅鞋英文版：
The Red Shoes
ONCE upon a time there was little girl, pretty and dainty. But in summer time she was obliged to go barefooted because she was poor, and in winter she had to wear large wooden shoes, so that her little instep grew quite red.
In the middle of the village lived an old shoemaker’s wife; she sat down and made, as well as she could, a pair of little shoes out of some old pieces of red cloth. They were clumsy, but she meant well, for they were intended for the little girl, whose name was Karen.
Karen received the shoes and wore them for the first time on the day of her mother’s funeral. They were certainly not suitable for mourning; but she had no others, and so she put her bare feet into them and walked behind the humble coffin.
Just then a large old carriage came by, and in it sat an old lady; she looked at the little girl, and taking pity on her, said to the clergyman, “Look here, if you will give me the little girl, I will take care of her.”
Karen believed that this was all on account of the red shoes, but the old lady thought them hideous, and so they were burnt. Karen herself was dressed very neatly and cleanly; she was taught to read and to sew, and people said that she was pretty. But the mirror told her, “You are more than pretty—you are beautiful.”
One day the Queen was travelling through that part of the country, and had her little daughter, who was a princess, with her. All the people, amongst them Karen too, streamed towards the castle, where the little princess, in fine white clothes, stood before the window and allowed herself to be stared at. She wore neither a train nor a golden crown, but beautiful red morocco shoes; they were indeed much finer than those which the shoemaker’s wife had sewn for little Karen. There is really nothing in the world that can be compared to red shoes!
Karen was now old enough to be confirmed; she received some new clothes, and she was also to have some new shoes. The rich shoemaker in the town took the measure of her little foot in his own room, in which there stood great glass cases full of pretty shoes and white slippers. It all looked very lovely, but the old lady could not see very well, and therefore did not get much pleasure out of it. Amongst the shoes stood a pair of red ones, like those which the princess had worn. How beautiful they were! and the shoemaker said that they had been made for a count’s daughter, but that they had not fitted her.
“I suppose they are of shiny leather?” asked the old lady. “They shine so.”
“Yes, they do shine,” said Karen. They fitted her, and were bought. But the old lady knew nothing of their being red, for she would never have allowed Karen to be confirmed in red shoes, as she was now to be.
Everybody looked at her feet, and the whole of the way from the church door to the choir it seemed to her as if even the ancient figures on the monuments, in their stiff collars and long black robes, had their eyes fixed on her red shoes. It was only of these that she thought when the clergyman laid his hand upon her head and spoke of the holy baptism, of the covenant with God, and told her that she was now to be a grown-up Christian. The organ pealed forth solemnly, and the sweet children’s voices mingled with that of their old leader; but Karen thought only of her red shoes. In the afternoon the old lady heard from everybody that Karen had worn red shoes. She said that it was a shocking thing to do, that it was very improper, and that Karen was always to go to church in future in black shoes, even if they were old.
On the following Sunday there was Communion. Karen looked first at the black shoes, then at the red ones—looked at the red ones again, and put them on.
The sun was shining gloriously, so Karen and the old lady went along the footpath through the corn, where it was rather dusty.
At the church door stood an old crippled soldier leaning on a crutch; he had a wonderfully long beard, more red than white, and he bowed down to the ground and asked the old lady whether he might wipe her shoes. Then Karen put out her little foot too. “Dear me, what pretty dancing-shoes!” said the soldier. “Sit fast, when you dance,” said he, addressing the shoes, and slapping the soles with his hand.
The old lady gave the soldier some money and then went with Karen into the church.
And all the people inside looked at Karen’s red shoes, and all the figures gazed at them; when Karen knelt before the altar and put the golden goblet to her mouth, she thought only of the red shoes. It seemed to her as though they were swimming about in the goblet, and she forgot to sing the psalm, forgot to say the “Lord’s Prayer.”
Now every one came out of church, and the old lady stepped into her carriage. But just as Karen was lifting up her foot to get in too, the old soldier said: “Dear me, what pretty dancing shoes!” and Karen could not help it, she was obliged to dance a few steps; and when she had once begun, her legs continued to dance. It seemed as if the shoes had got power over them. She danced round the church corner, for she could not stop; the coachman had to run after her and seize her. He lifted her into the carriage, but her feet continued to dance, so that she kicked the good old lady violently. At last they took off her shoes, and her legs were at rest.
At home the shoes were put into the cupboard, but Karen could not help looking at them.
Now the old lady fell ill, and it was said that she would not rise from her bed again. She had to be nursed and waited upon, and this was no one’s duty more than Karen’s. But there was a grand ball in the town, and Karen was invited. She looked at the red shoes, saying to herself that there was no sin in doing that; she put the red shoes on, thinking there was no harm in that either; and then she went to the ball; and commenced to dance.
But when she wanted to go to the right, the shoes danced to the left, and when she wanted to dance up the room, the shoes danced down the room, down the stairs through the street, and out through the gates of the town. She danced, and was obliged to dance, far out into the dark wood. Suddenly something shone up among the trees, and she believed it was the moon, for it was a face. But it was the old soldier with the red beard; he sat there nodding his head and said: “Dear me, what pretty dancing shoes!”
She was frightened, and wanted to throw the red shoes away; but they stuck fast. She tore off her stockings, but the shoes had grown fast to her feet. She danced and was obliged to go on dancing over field and meadow, in rain and sunshine, by night and by day—but by night it was most horrible.
She danced out into the open churchyard; but the dead there did not dance. They had something better to do than that. She wanted to sit down on the pauper’s grave where the bitter fern grows; but for her there was neither peace nor rest. And as she danced past the open church door she saw an angel there in long white robes, with wings reaching from his shoulders down to the earth; his face was stern and grave, and in his hand he held a broad shining sword.
“Dance you shall,” said he, “dance in your red shoes till you are pale and cold, till your skin shrivels up and you are a skeleton! Dance you shall, from door to door, and where proud and wicked children live you shall knock, so that they may hear you and fear you! Dance you shall, dance—!”
“Mercy!” cried Karen. But she did not hear what the angel answered, for the shoes carried her through the gate into the fields, along highways and byways, and unceasingly she had to dance.
One morning she danced past a door that she knew well; they were singing a psalm inside, and a coffin was being carried out covered with flowers. Then she knew that she was forsaken by every one and damned by the angel of God.
She danced, and was obliged to go on dancing through the dark night. The shoes bore her away over thorns and stumps till she was all torn and bleeding; she danced away over the heath to a lonely little house. Here, she knew, lived the executioner; and she tapped with her finger at the window and said:
“Come out, come out! I cannot come in, for I must dance.”
And the executioner said: “I don’t suppose you know who I am. I strike off the heads of the wicked, and I notice that my axe is tingling to do so.”
“Don’t cut off my head!” said Karen, “for then I could not repent of my sin. But cut off my feet with the red shoes.”
And then she confessed all her sin, and the executioner struck off her feet with the red shoes; but the shoes danced away with the little feet across the field into the deep forest.
And he carved her a pair of wooden feet and some crutches, and taught her a psalm which is always sung by sinners; she kissed the hand that guided the axe, and went away over the heath.
“Now, I have suffered enough for the red shoes,” she said; “I will go to church, so that people can see me.” And she went quickly up to the church-door; but when she came there, the red shoes were dancing before her, and she was frightened, and turned back.
During the whole week she was sad and wept many bitter tears, but when Sunday came again she said: “Now I have suffered and striven enough. I believe I am quite as good as many of those who sit in church and give themselves airs.” And so she went boldly on; but she had not got farther than the churchyard gate when she saw the red shoes dancing along before her. Then she became terrified, and turned back and repented right heartily of her sin.
She went to the parsonage, and begged that she might be taken into service there. She would be industrious, she said, and do everything that she could; she did not mind about the wages as long as she had a roof over her, and was with good people. The pastor’s wife had pity on her, and took her into service. And she was industrious and thoughtful. She sat quiet and listened when the pastor read aloud from the Bible in the evening. All the children liked her very much, but when they spoke about dress and grandeur and beauty she would shake her head.
On the following Sunday they all went to church, and she was asked whether she wished to go too; but, with tears in her eyes, she looked sadly at her crutches. And then the others went to hear God’s Word, but she went alone into her little room; this was only large enough to hold the bed and a chair. Here she sat down with her hymn-book, and as she was reading it with a pious mind, the wind carried the notes of the organ over to her from the church, and in tears she lifted up her face and said: “O God! help me!”
Then the sun shone so brightly, and right before her stood an angel of God in white robes; it was the same one whom she had seen that night at the church-door. He no longer carried the sharp sword, but a beautiful green branch, full of roses; with this he touched the ceiling, which rose up very high, and where he had touched it there shone a golden star. He touched the walls, which opened wide apart, and she saw the organ which was pealing forth; she saw the pictures of the old pastors and their wives, and the congregation sitting in the polished chairs and singing from their hymn-books. The church itself had come to the poor girl in her narrow room, or the room had gone to the church. She sat in the pew with the rest of the pastor’s household, and when they had finished the hymn and looked up, they nodded and said, “It was right of you to come, Karen.”
“It was mercy,” said she.
The organ played and the children’s voices in the choir sounded soft and lovely. The bright warm sunshine streamed through the window into the pew where Karen sat, and her heart became so filled with it, so filled with peace and joy, that it broke. Her soul flew on the sunbeams to Heaven, and no one was there who asked after the Red Shoes.
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