The Nightingale

Nightingale.’

‘Here is another new book about our famous bird!’ said the Emperor.

But it was not a book, but a little mechanical toy, which lay in a

box—an artificial nightingale which was like the real one, only that

it was set all over with diamonds, rubies, and sapphires. When it was

wound up, it could sing the piece the real bird sang, and moved its

tail up and down, and glittered with silver and gold. Round its neck

was a little collar on which was written, ‘The Nightingale of the

Emperor of Japan is nothing compared to that of the Emperor of China.’

‘This is magnificent!’ they all said, and the man who had brought the

clockwork bird received on the spot the title of ‘Bringer of the

Imperial First Nightingale.’

‘Now they must sing together; what a duet we shall have!’

And so they sang together, but their voices did not blend, for the

real Nightingale sang in her way and the clockwork bird sang waltzes.

‘It is not its fault!’ said the bandmaster; ‘it keeps very good time

and is quite after my style!’

Then the artificial bird had to sing alone. It gave just as much

pleasure as the real one, and then it was so much prettier to look at;

it sparkled like bracelets and necklaces. Three-and-thirty times it

sang the same piece without being tired. People would like to have

heard it again, but the Emperor thought that the living Nightingale

should sing now—but where was she? No one had noticed that she had

flown out of the open window away to her green woods.

‘What shall we do!’ said the Emperor.

And all the Court scolded, and said that the Nightingale was very

ungrateful. ‘But we have still the best bird!’ they said and the

artificial bird had to sing again, and that was the thirty-fourth time

they had heard the same piece. But they did not yet know it by heart;

it was much too difficult. And the bandmaster praised the bird

tremendously; yes, he assured them it was better than a real

nightingale, not only because of its beautiful plumage and diamonds,

but inside as well. ‘For see, my Lords and Ladies and your Imperial

Majesty, with the real Nightingale one can never tell what will come

out, but all is known about the artificial bird! You can explain it,

you can open it and show people where the waltzes lie, how they go,

and how one follows the other!’

‘That’s just what we think!’ said everyone; and the bandmaster

received permission to show the bird to the people the next Sunday.

They should hear it sing, commanded the Emperor. And they heard it,

and they were as pleased as if they had been intoxicated with tea,

after the Chinese fashion, and they all said ‘Oh!’ and held up their

forefingers and nodded time. But the poor fishermen who had heard the

real Nightingale said: ‘This one sings well enough, the tunes glide

out; but there is something wanting—I don’t know what!’

The real Nightingale was banished from the kingdom.

The artificial bird was put on silken cushions by the Emperor’s bed,

all the presents which it received, gold and precious stones, lay

round it, and it was given the title of Imperial Night-singer, First

from the left. For the Emperor counted that side as the more

distinguished, being the side on which the heart is; the Emperor’s

heart is also on the left.

And the bandmaster wrote a work of twenty-five volumes about the

artificial bird. It was so learned, long, and so full of the hardest

Chinese words that everyone said they had read it and understood it;

for once they had been very stupid about a book, and had been trampled

under foot in consequence. So a whole year passed. The Emperor, the

Court, and all the Chinese knew every note of the artificial bird’s

song by heart. But they liked it all the better for this; they could

even sing with it, and they did. The street boys sang ‘Tra-la-la-la-la,’

and the Emperor sang too sometimes. It was indeed delightful.

But one evening, when the artificial bird was singing its best, and

the Emperor lay in bed listening to it, something in the bird went

crack. Something snapped! Whir-r-r! all the wheels ran down and then

the music ceased. The Emperor sprang up, and had his physician

summoned, but what could he do! Then the clockmaker came, and, after

a great deal of talking and examining, he put the bird somewhat in

order, but he said that it must be very seldom used as the works were

nearly worn out, and it was impossible to put in new ones. Here was a

calamity! Only once a year was the artificial bird allowed to sing,

and even that was almost too much for it. But then the bandmaster made

a little speech full of hard words, saying that it was just as good as

before. And so, of course, it was just as good as before. So five

years passed, and then a great sorrow came to the nation. The Chinese

look upon their Emperor as everything, and now he was ill, and not

likely to live it was said.

Already a new Emperor had been chosen, and the people stood outside in

the street and asked the First Lord how the old Emperor was. ‘P!’ said

he, and shook his head.

Cold and pale lay the Emperor in his splendid great bed; the whole

Court believed him dead, and one after the other left him to pay their

respects to the new Emperor. Everywhere in the halls and corridors

cloth was laid down so that no footstep could be heard, and everything

was still—very, very still. And nothing came to break the silence.

The Emperor longed for something to come and relieve the monotony of

this deathlike stillness. If only someone would speak to him! If only

someone would sing to him. Music would carry his thoughts away, and

would break the spell lying on him. The moon was streaming in at the

open window; but that, too, was silent, quite silent.

‘Music! music!’ cried the Emperor. ‘You little bright golden bird,

sing! do sing! I gave you gold and jewels; I have hung my gold slipper

round your neck with my own hand—sing! do sing!’ But the bird was

silent. There was no one to wind it up, and so it could not sing. And

all was silent, so terribly silent!

All at once there came in at the window the most glorious burst of

song. It was the little living Nightingale, who, sitting outside on a

bough, had heard the need of her Emperor and had come to sing to him

of comfort and hope. And as she sang the blood flowed quicker and

quicker in the Emperor’s weak limbs, and life began to return.

‘Thank you, thank you!’ said the Emperor. ‘You divine little bird! I

know you. I chased you from my kingdom, and you have given me life

again! How can I reward you?’

‘You have done that already!’ said the Nightingale. ‘I brought tears

to your eyes the first time I sang. I shall never forget that. They

are jewels that rejoice a singer’s heart. But now sleep and get strong

again; I will sing you a lullaby.’ And the Emperor fell into a deep,

calm sleep as she sang.

[Illustration: The true Nightingale sings to the Emperor]

The sun was shining through the window when he awoke, strong and well.

None of his servants had come back yet, for they thought he was dead.

But the Nightingale sat and sang to him.

‘You must always stay with me!’ said the Emperor. ‘You shall sing

whenever you like, and I will break the artificial bird into a

thousand pieces.’

‘Don’t do that!’ said the Nightingale. ‘He did his work as long as he

could. Keep him as you have done! I cannot build my nest in the Palace

and live here; but let me come whenever I like. I will sit in the

evening on the bough outside the window, and I will sing you something

that will make you feel happy and grateful. I will sing of joy, and of

sorrow; I will sing of the evil and the good which lies hidden from

you. The little singing-bird flies all around, to the poor fisherman’s

hut, to the farmer’s cottage, to all those who are far away from you

and your Court. I love your heart more than your crown, though that

has about it a brightness as of something holy. Now I will sing to you

again; but you must promise me one thing——’

‘Anything!’ said the Emperor, standing up in his Imperial robes, which

he had himself put on, and fastening on his sword richly embossed with

gold.

‘One thing I beg of you! Don’t tell anyone that you have a little bird

who tells you everything. It will be much better not to!’ Then the

Nightingale flew away.

The servants came in to look at their dead Emperor.

The Emperor said, ‘Good-morning!’

HERMOD AND HADVOR[32]

Once upon a time there were a King and a Queen who had an only

daughter, called Hadvor, who was fair and beautiful, and being an only

child, was heir to the kingdom. The King and Queen had also a foster

son, named Hermod, who was just about the same age as Hadvor, and was

good-looking, as well as clever at most things. Hermod and Hadvor

often played together while they were children, and liked each other

so much that while they were still young they secretly plighted their

troth to each other.

As time went on the Queen fell sick, and suspecting that it was her

last illness, sent for the King to come to her. When he came she told

him that she had no long time to live, and therefore wished to ask one

thing of him, which was, that if he married another wife he should

promise to take no other one than the Queen of Hetland the Good. The

King gave the promise, and thereafter the Queen died.

Time went past, and the King, growing tired of living alone, fitted

out his ship and sailed out to sea. As he sailed there came upon him

so thick a mist that he altogether lost his bearings, but after long

trouble he found land. There he laid his ship to, and went on shore

all alone. After walking for some time he came to a forest, into which

he went a little way and stopped. Then he heard sweet music from a

harp, and went in the direction of the sound until he came to a

clearing, and there he saw three women, one of whom sat on a golden

chair, and was beautifully and grandly dressed; she held a harp in her

hands, and was very sorrowful. The second was also finely dressed, but

younger in appearance, and also sat on a chair, but it was not so

grand as the first one’s. The third stood beside them, and was very

pretty to look at; she had a green cloak over her other clothes, and

it was easy to see that she was maid to the other two.

[Footnote 32: From the Icelandic.]

After the King had looked at them for a little he went forward and

saluted them. The one that sat on the golden chair asked him who he

was and where he was going; and he told her all the story—how he was

a king, and had lost his queen, and was now on his way to Hetland the

Good, to ask the Queen of that country in marriage. She answered that

fortune had contrived this wonderfully, for pirates had plundered

Hetland and killed the King, and she had fled from the land in terror,

and had come hither after great trouble, and she was the very person

he was looking for, and the others were her daughter and maid. The

King immediately asked her hand; she gladly received his proposal and

accepted him at once. Thereafter they all set out, and made their way

to the ship; and after that nothing is told of their voyage until the

King reached his own country. There he made a great feast, and

celebrated his marriage with this woman; and after that things are

quiet for a time.

Hermod and Hadvor took but little notice of the Queen and her

daughter, but, on the other hand, Hadvor and the Queen’s maid, whose

name was Olof, were very friendly, and Olof came often to visit Hadvor

in her castle. Before long the King went out to war, and no sooner was

he away than the Queen came to talk with Hermod, and said that she

wanted him to marry her daughter. Hermod told her straight and plain

that he would not do so, at which the Queen grew terribly angry, and

said that in that case neither should he have Hadvor, for she would

now lay this spell on him, that he should go to a desert island and

there be a lion by day and a man by night. He should also think always

of Hadvor, which would cause him all the more sorrow, and from this

spell he should never be freed until Hadvor burned the lion’s skin,

and that would not happen very soon.

As soon as the Queen had finished her speech Hermod replied that he

also laid a spell on her, and that was, that as soon as he was freed

from her enchantments she should become a rat and her daughter a

mouse, and fight with each other in the hall until he killed them with

his sword.

After this Hermod disappeared, and no one knew what had become of him;

the Queen caused search to be made for him, but he could nowhere be

found. One time, when Olof was in the castle beside Hadvor, she asked

the Princess if she knew where Hermod had gone to. At this Hadvor

became very sad, and said that she did not.

‘I shall tell you then,’ said Olof, ‘for I know all about it.

[Illustration: The King Finds the Queen of Hetland]

Hermod has disappeared through the wicked devices of the Queen, for

she is a witch, and so is her daughter, though they have put on these

beautiful forms. Because Hermod would not fall in with the Queen’s

plans, and marry her daughter, she has laid a spell on him, to go on

an island and be a lion by day and a man by night, and never be freed

from this until you burn the lion’s skin. Besides,’ said Olof, ‘she

has looked out a match for you; she has a brother in the Under-world,

a three-headed Giant, whom she means to turn into a beautiful prince

and get him married to you. This is no new thing for the Queen; she

took me away from my parents’ house and compelled me to serve her; but

she has never done me any harm, for the green cloak I wear protects me

against all mischief.’

Hadvor now became still sadder than before at the thought of the

marriage destined for her, and entreated Olof to think of some plan to

save her.

‘I think,’ said Olof, ‘that your wooer will come up through the floor

of the castle to you, and so you must be prepared when you hear the

noise of his coming and the floor begins to open, and have at hand

blazing pitch, and pour plenty of it into the opening. That will prove

too much for him.’

About this time the King came home from his expedition, and thought it

a great blow that no one knew what had become of Hermod; but the Queen

consoled him as best she could, and after a time the King thought less

about his disappearance.

Hadvor remained in her castle, and had made preparations to receive

her wooer when he came. One night, not long after, a loud noise and

rumbling was heard under the castle. Hadvor at once guessed what it

was, and told her maids to be ready to help her. The noise and

thundering grew louder and louder, until the floor began to open,

whereupon Hadvor made them take the cauldron of pitch and pour plenty

of it into the opening. With that the noises grew fainter and fainter,

till at last they ceased altogether.

Next morning the Queen rose early, and went out to the Palace gate,

and there she found her brother the Giant lying dead. She went up to

him and said, ‘I pronounce this spell, that you become a beautiful

prince, and that Hadvor shall be unable to say anything against the

charges that I shall bring against her.’

The body of the dead Giant now became that of a beautiful prince, and

the Queen went in again.

‘I don’t think,’ said she to the King, ‘that your daughter is as good

as she is said to be. My brother came and asked her hand, and she has

had him put to death. I have just found his dead body lying at the

Palace gate.’

The King went along with the Queen to see the body, and thought it all

very strange; so beautiful a youth, he said, would have been a worthy

match for Hadvor, and he would readily have agreed to their marriage.

The Queen asked leave to decide what Hadvor’s punishment should be,

which the King was very willing to allow, so as to escape from

punishing his own daughter. The Queen’s decision was that the King

should make a big grave-mound for her brother, and put Hadvor into it

beside him.

Olof knew all the plans of the Queen, and went to tell the Princess

what had been done, whereupon Hadvor earnestly entreated her to tell

her what to do.

‘First and foremost,’ said Olof, ‘you must get a wide cloak to wear

over your other clothes, when you are put into the mound. The Giant’s

ghost will walk after you are both left together in there, and he will

have two dogs along with him. He will ask you to cut pieces out of his

legs to give to the dogs, but that you must not promise to do unless

he tells you where Hermod has gone to, and tells you how to find him.

He will then let you stand on his shoulders, so as to get out of the

mound; but he means to cheat you all the same, and will catch you by

the cloak to pull you back again; but you must take care to have the

cloak loose on your shoulders, so that he will only get hold of that.’

The mound was all ready now, and the Giant laid in it, and into it

Hadvor also had to go without being allowed to make any defence. After

they were both left there everything happened just as Olof had said.

The prince became a Giant again, and asked Hadvor to cut the pieces

out of his legs for the dogs; but she refused until he told her that

Hermod was in a desert island, which she could not reach unless she

took the skin off the soles of his feet and made shoes out of that;

with these shoes she could travel both on land and sea. This Hadvor

now did, and the Giant then let her get up on his shoulders to get out

of the mound. As she sprang out he caught hold of her cloak; but she

had taken care to let it lie loose on her shoulders, and so escaped.

She now made her way down to the sea, to where she knew there was the

shortest distance over to the island in which Hermod was. This strait

she easily crossed, for the shoes kept her up. On reaching the island

she found a sandy beach all along by the sea, and high cliffs above.

Nor could she see any way to get up these, and so, being both sad at

heart and tired with the long journey, she lay down and fell asleep.

As she slept she dreamed that a tall woman came to her and said, ‘I

know that you are Princess Hadvor, and are searching for Hermod. He is

on this island; but it will be hard for you to get to him if you have

no one to help you, for you cannot climb the cliffs by your own

strength. I have therefore let down a rope, by which you will be able

to climb up; and as the island is so large that you might not find

Hermod’s dwelling-place so easily, I lay down this clew beside you.

You need only hold the end of the thread, and the clew will run on

before and show you the way. I also lay this belt beside you, to put

on when you awaken; it will keep you from growing faint with hunger.’

The woman now disappeared, and Hadvor woke, and saw that all her dream

had been true. The rope hung down from the cliff, and the clew and

belt lay beside her. The belt she put on, the rope enabled her to

climb up the cliff, and the clew led her on till she came to the mouth

of a cave, which was not very big. She went into the cave, and saw

there a low couch, under which she crept and lay down.

When evening came she heard the noise of footsteps outside, and became

aware that the lion had come to the mouth of the cave, and shook

itself there, after which she heard a man coming towards the couch.

She was sure this was Hermod, because she heard him speaking to

himself about his own condition, and calling to mind Hadvor and other

things in the old days. Hadvor made no sign, but waited till he had

fallen asleep, and then crept out and burned the lion’s skin, which he

had left outside. Then she went back into the cave and wakened Hermod,

and they had a most joyful meeting.

In the morning they talked over their plans, and were most at a loss

to know how to get out of the island. Hadvor told Hermod her dream,

and said she suspected there was some one in the island who would be

able to help them. Hermod said he knew of a Witch there, who was very

ready to help anyone, and that the only plan was to go to her. So they

went to the Witch’s cave, and found her there with her fifteen young

sons, and asked her to help them to get to the mainland.

‘There are other things easier than that,’ said she, ‘for the Giant

that was buried will be waiting for you, and will attack you on the

way, as he has turned himself into a big whale. I shall lend you a

boat, however, and if you meet the whale and think your lives are in

danger, then you can name me by name.’

[Illustration: Hadvor Burns the Lion’s Skin.]

They thanked her greatly for her help and advice, and set out from the

island, but on the way they saw a huge fish coming towards them, with

great splashing and dashing of waves. They were sure of what it was,

and thought they had as good reason as ever they would have to call on

the Witch, and so they did. The next minute they saw coming after them

another huge whale, followed by fifteen smaller ones. All of these

swam past the boat and went on to meet the whale. There was a fierce

battle then, and the sea became so stormy that it was not very easy to

keep the boat from being filled by the waves. After this fight had

gone on for some time, they saw that the sea was dyed with blood; the

big whale and the fifteen smaller ones disappeared, and they got to

land safe and sound.

Now the story goes back to the King’s hall, where strange things had

happened in the meantime. The Queen and her daughter had disappeared,

but a rat and a mouse were always fighting with each other there. Ever

so many people had tried to drive them away, but no one could manage

it. Thus some time went on, while the King was almost beside himself

with sorrow and care for the loss of his Queen, and because these

monsters destroyed all mirth in the hall.

One evening, however, while they all sat dull and down-hearted, in

came Hermod with a sword by his side, and saluted the King, who

received him with the greatest joy, as if he had come back from the

dead. Before Hermod sat down, however, he went to where the rat and

the mouse were fighting, and cut them in two with his sword. All were

astonished then by seeing two witches lying dead on the floor of the

hall.

Hermod now told the whole story to the King, who was very glad to be

rid of such vile creatures. Next he asked for the hand of Hadvor,

which the King readily gave him, and being now an old man, gave the

kingdom to him as well; and so Hermod became King.

Olof married a good-looking nobleman, and that is the end of the

story.