安徒生童话故事第：小杜克Little Tuk

安徒生童话故事第44篇：小杜克Little Tuk

　　引导语：关于安徒生童话故事，大家喜欢阅读哪些?下面是小杜克还有英文版，希望大家喜欢。

　　是的，那就是小杜克。他的名字并不是真的叫杜克;不过当他还不会讲话的时候，就把自己叫做杜克。他的名字应该是“加尔”——明了这一点是有好处的。现在他得照料比他小很多的妹妹古斯塔乌，自己还要温习功课。但是同时要做这两件事情是不太容易的。这个可怜的孩子把小妹妹抱在膝上，对她唱些他所会唱的歌;在这同时，他还要看摊在面前的那本地理书。在明天到来以前，他必须记好西兰①主教区所属的一切城市的名字，知道人们应该知道的一切关于它们的事情。

　　现在他的妈妈回来了，因为她到外面去过。她把小小的古斯塔乌抱起来。杜克跑到窗子那儿，拼命看书，几乎把眼睛都看花了，因为天已经慢慢黑下来了;但是他的妈妈没有钱买蜡烛。

　　“那个洗衣的老太婆在街上走来了，”正在朝窗子外面望的妈妈说。“她连走路也走不动，但还是要从井里取一桶水上来。做个好孩子吧，杜克，快过去帮助这个老太太一下!”

　　杜克立刻就跑过去帮她的忙。不过当他回到房里来的时候，天已经很黑了。蜡烛他们是买不起的;他只得上床去睡，而他的床却是一张旧板凳。他躺在那上面，想着他的地理功课：西兰的主教区和老师所讲的一切东西。他的确应该先温习好，但是他现在没有法子做到。所以只好把地理课本放在枕头底下，因为他听说这可以帮助人记住课文，不过这个办法却不一定靠得住。

　　他躺在那上面，想了许多事情。忽然觉得有人吻他的眼睛和嘴。他似乎睡着了，又似乎没有睡着。他好像觉得那个洗衣老太婆的温柔的眼睛在看他，并且对他说：

　　“如果你明天记不住功课，那真是可惜得很!你帮助过我，我现在应该帮助你。我们的上帝总是帮助人的!”

　　杜克的那本书马上就在他的头底下窸窸窣窣地动起来了。

　　“吉克——哩基!咕!咕!”这原来是一只老母鸡跑出来了——而且它是一只却格②的鸡。“我是一只却格的母鸡，”它说。

　　于是它就告诉他，那个小镇有多少居民，那儿曾经打过一次仗——虽然这的确不值得一提③。

　　“克里布里，克里布里，扑!”有一件什么东西落下来了，这是一只木雕的雀子——一只在布列斯托④射鸟比赛时赢来的鹦鹉。它说那儿居民数目之多，等于它身上的钉子。它是很骄傲的。“多瓦尔生就住在我的附近。扑!我睡得真舒服!”

　　不过现在小杜克已经不是躺在床上，他忽然骑上了一匹马。跑!跑!跳!跳!马儿在驰骋着。一位穿得很漂亮的骑士，戴着发亮的头盔和修长的羽毛，把他抱在马鞍前面坐着。他们穿过森林，来到古老的城市伏尔丁堡⑤——这是一个非常热闹的大城市。国王的宫殿上耸立着许多高塔;塔上的窗子里射出亮光，那里面有歌声和跳舞。国王瓦尔得马尔和许多漂亮的宫女们在一直跳着舞。这时天已经亮了。当太阳出来的时候，整个城市和国王的宫殿就沉下去了，那些高塔也一个接着一个地不见了。最后只有一座塔立在原来宫殿所在地的山上。这个城市显得渺小和寒碜。小学生把书本夹在臂下走来了，说：“两千个居民。”不过这不是真的，因为事实上并没有这么多人。

　　小杜克躺在床上，仿佛是在做梦。又不像在做梦。不过有一个人站在他身边。

　　“小杜克!小杜克!”这声音说。这是一个水手——一个相当小的人物，小得好像一个海军学生，不过他并不是一个海军学生。“我特别代表柯苏尔来向你致敬——这是一个正在发展中的城市，一个活跃的、有汽船和邮车的城市。在过去，大家都说它很丑，不过现在这话却不对了。”

　　“我住在海边，”柯苏尔说。“我有一条公路和游乐的公园。我产生了一个诗人⑥，他是非常幽默的——就一般的诗人说来，这是少有的。有一次我很想送一条船出去，周游世界一番。不过我没有这样做，虽然我可以做得到。我的气味很香，因为在我的城门附近盛开着许多最美丽的玫瑰花。”

　　小杜克看着它;它在他眼中是红色的和绿色的。当这种种的色彩渐渐消逝了以后，附近清亮的海湾上就出现了一个长满树林的斜坡。上面有一座美丽的老教堂，它顶上有两个高高的尖塔。一股涌泉从山里流出来，发出潺潺的声音。一位年老的国王坐在近旁，他的长头发上戴着一顶金王冠。这就是“泉水旁的赫洛尔王”——也就是人们现在所谓的罗斯吉尔得镇⑦。丹麦所有的国王和王后，头上戴着金冠，都手挽着手，走到这座山上的那个古教堂里来。于是琴楼上的风琴奏起来了，泉水也发出潺潺的鸣声。杜克看到这些景象，也听到这些声音。

　　“请不要忘记这王国的各个省份!”国王赫洛尔说。

　　立刻一切东西就不见了。是的，它们又变成了什么呢?这真像翻了一页书似的。这儿现在有一个年老的农家妇人。“她是一个锄草的农妇。她来自苏洛⑧——这儿连市场上都长起草来了。她把灰布围裙披在头上和肩上。围裙是潮湿的，一定是下过雨了。

　　“是的，下过了一阵雨!”她说。她知道荷尔堡的剧本中的许多有趣的片断，也全知道关于瓦尔得马尔和亚卜萨龙⑨的事情。不过她忽然蹲下来，摇着头，好像要跳跃似的。“呱—呱!”她说。“天下雨了!天下雨了!苏洛是像坟墓一样地静寂!”她现在变成了一只青蛙——“呱—呱!”——不一会儿她又变成了一个老女人。

　　“一个人应该看天气穿衣服才对!”她说。“天下雨了!天下雨了!我住的这个城市像一个瓶子。你从瓶塞那儿进去，你还得从瓶口那儿出来!从前那里面装着些鲶鱼，现在这里面有一些红脸蛋的孩子。他们学到了许多学问——希伯莱文，希腊文——呱—呱!”

　　这很像青蛙的叫声，或者某人穿着一双大靴子在沼泽地上走过的声音;老是那么一个调子，既枯燥，又讨厌，讨厌得叫小杜克要酣睡了，而酣睡是再好不过的事情。

　　就是在这样的睡眠中也居然会做起梦来——或者说类似做梦一般。他那个有一双蓝眼睛和金黄色鬈发的小妹妹古斯塔乌忽然变成了一个亭亭玉立的小姐。她没有翅膀，但是她能飞翔。现在他们一起飞到西兰，飞过绿色的森林和蔚蓝色的湖泊。

　　“你听到公鸡叫么?小杜克?吉一克一哩一基!许多母鸡从却格飞出来!你可以有一个养鸡场——一个很大、很大的养鸡场!你将不会饥饿和贫困!像俗话所说的`，你将射得鹦鹉;你将是一个富有和快乐的人!你的房子将会耸入云霄，像国王瓦尔得马尔的塔一样。它将有许多美丽的大理石像——像从布列斯托那儿搬来的一样——作为装饰。懂得我的意思了吧。你的名字将会像从柯苏尔开出的船一样，周游世界。同时在罗斯吉尔得——请不要忘记这些城市吧!”国王赫洛尔说。“小杜克，你将会说出聪明而有理智的话来。当你最后走进坟墓里去的时候，你将会睡得很平安——”

　　“倒好像我是躺在苏洛似的!”小杜克说，于是便醒来了。这是一个晴朗的早晨。他一点也记不起这场梦。不过这倒也没有什么必要，因为一个人是不需要知道未来会发生的事情的。

　　现在他从床上跳下来，读他的书;马上他就懂得全部的功课了。那个洗衣的老太婆把头伸进门来，对他和蔼地点点头，说：

　　“好孩子，谢谢你昨天的帮忙!愿上帝使你的美丽的梦变成事实!”

　　小杜克完全不知道自己做了一场什么梦，不过上帝知道!

　　①西兰(Sjaeland)是丹麦东部的群岛。面积7514平方公里。

　　②却格是丹麦却格湾上的一个小镇。

　　③1677年6月1日，丹麦的舰队在却格湾击溃了瑞典的舰队。但是法国的国王路易十四却不准丹麦获得任何胜利的果实。这里所说“不值得一提”也许就是因为这个缘故。

　　④布列斯托(Praesto)是丹麦的一个小镇，它的附近有一个尼索(nyso)农庄。雕刻师多瓦尔生曾经住在这儿。

　　⑤在国王瓦尔得马尔时代，伏尔丁堡是丹麦一个很重要的城市。现在只剩下宫殿的废墟。

　　⑥指柏格森(Baggesen，1764-1826)。他是安徒生所喜爱的一个诗人。

　　⑦赫洛尔王(Hroar)是丹麦传说中的一个国王，大约生活在第五世纪后半期。罗斯吉尔得镇(Rosekilde)据说就是他建立起来的。此镇到1445年止是丹麦的首都，在这儿的礼拜堂里葬着许多丹麦的国王和王后。

　　⑧苏洛(Soro)是十二世纪建立起来的一个小镇，丹麦的伟大剧作家荷尔堡在这儿创办了有名的“苏洛书院”。安徒生在这里读过书。

　　⑨亚卜萨龙(Absalon，1123-1201)是丹麦的一个将军和政治家，曾征服过爱沙尼亚。

　　小杜克英文版：

　　Little Tuk

　　YES, they called him Little Tuk, but it was not his real name; he had called himself so before he could speak plainly, and he meant it for Charles. It was all very well for those who knew him, but not for strangers.

　　Little Tuk was left at home to take care of his little sister, Gustava, who was much younger than himself, and he had to learn his lessons at the same time, and the two things could not very well be performed together. The poor boy sat there with his sister on his lap, and sung to her all the songs he knew, and now and then he looked into his geography lesson that lay open before him. By the next morning he had to learn by heart all the towns in Zealand, and all that could be described of them.

　　His mother came home at last, and took little Gustava in her arms. Then Tuk ran to the window, and read so eagerly that he nearly read his eyes out; for it had become darker and darker every minute, and his mother had no money to buy a light.

　　“There goes the old washerwoman up the lane,” said the mother, as she looked out of the window; “the poor woman can hardly drag herself along, and now she had to drag a pail of water from the well. Be a good boy, Tuk, and run across and help the old woman, won’t you?”

　　So Tuk ran across quickly, and helped her, but when he came back into the room it was quite dark, and there was not a word said about a light, so he was obliged to go to bed on his little truckle bedstead, and there he lay and thought of his geography lesson, and of Zealand, and of all the master had told him. He ought really to have read it over again, but he could not for want of light. So he put the geography book under his pillow, for he had heard that this was a great help towards learning a lesson, but not always to be depended upon. He still lay thinking and thinking, when all at once it seemed as if some one kissed him on his eyes and mouth. He slept and yet he did not sleep; and it appeared as if the old washerwoman looked at him with kind eyes and said, “It would be a great pity if you did not know your lesson to-morrow morning; you helped me, and now I will help you, and Providence will always keep those who help themselves;” and at the same time the book under Tuk’s pillow began to move about. “Cluck, cluck, cluck,” cried a hen as she crept towards him. “I am a hen from Kjøge,”1 and then she told him how many inhabitants the town contained, and about a battle that had been fought there, which really was not worth speaking of.

　　“Crack, crack,” down fell something. It was a wooden bird, the parrot which is used as a target as Præstø.2 He said there were as many inhabitants in that town as he had nails in his body. He was very proud, and said, “Thorwalsden lived close to me,3 and here I am now, quite comfortable.”

　　But now little Tuk was no longer in bed; all in a moment he found himself on horseback. Gallop, gallop, away he went, seated in front of a richly-attired knight, with a waving plume, who held him on the saddle, and so they rode through the wood by the old town of Wordingburg, which was very large and busy. The king’s castle was surrounded by lofty towers, and radiant light streamed from all the windows. Within there were songs and dancing; King Waldemar and the young gayly-dressed ladies of the court were dancing together. Morning dawned, and as the sun rose, the whole city and the king’s castle sank suddenly down together. One tower after another fell, till at last only one remained standing on the hill where the castle had formerly been.4

　　The town now appeared small and poor, and the school-boys read in their books, which they carried under their arms, that it contained two thousand inhabitants; but this was a mere boast, for it did not contain so many.

　　And again little Tuk lay in his bed, scarcely knowing whether he was dreaming or not, for some one stood by him.

　　“Tuk! little Tuk!” said a voice. It was a very little person who spoke. He was dressed as a sailor, and looked small enough to be a middy, but he was not one. “I bring you many greetings from Corsøe.5 It is a rising town, full of life. It has steamships and mail-coaches. In times past they used to call it ugly, but that is no longer true. I lie on the sea-shore,” said Corsøe; “I have high-roads and pleasure-gardens; I have given birth to a poet who was witty and entertaining, which they are not all. I once wanted to fit out a ship to sail round the world, but I did not accomplish it, though most likely I might have done so. But I am fragrant with perfume, for close to my gates most lovely roses bloom.”

　　Then before the eyes of little Tuk appeared a confusion of colors, red and green; but it cleared off, and he could distinguish a cliff close to the bay, the slopes of which were quite overgrown with verdure, and on its summit stood a fine old church with pointed towers. Springs of water flowed out of the cliff in thick waterspouts, so that there was a continual splashing. Close by sat an old king with a golden crown on his white head. This was King Hroar of the Springs6 and near the springs stood the town of Roeskilde, as it is called. Then all the kings and queens of Denmark went up the ascent to the old church, hand in hand, with golden crowns on their heads, while the organ played and the fountains sent forth jets of water.

　　Little Tuk saw and heard it all. “Don’t forget the names of these towns,” said King Hroar.

　　All at once everything vanished; but where! It seemed to him like turning over the leaves of a book. And now there stood before him an old peasant woman, who had come from Sorø7 where the grass grows in the market-place. She had a green linen apron thrown over her head and shoulders, and it was quite wet, as if it had been raining heavily. “Yes, that it has,” said she, and then, just as she was going to tell him a great many pretty stories from Holberg’s comedies, and about Waldemar and Absalom, she suddenly shrunk up together, and wagged her head as if she were a frog about to spring. “Croak,” she cried; “it is always wet, and as quiet as death in Sorø.” Then little Tuk saw she was changed into a frog. “Croak,” and again she was an old woman. “One must dress according to the weather,” said she. “It is wet, and my town is just like a bottle. By the cork we must go in, and by the cork we must come out again. In olden times I had beautiful fish, and now I have fresh, rosy-cheeked boys in the bottom of the bottle, and they learn wisdom, Hebrew and Greek.”

　　“Croak.” How it sounded like the cry of the frogs on the moor, or like the creaking of great boots when some one is marching,—always the same tone, so monotonous and wearing, that little Tuk at length fell fast asleep, and then the sound could not annoy him. But even in this sleep came a dream or something like it. His little sister Gustava, with her blue eyes, and fair curly hair, had grown up a beautiful maiden all at once, and without having wings she could fly. And they flew together over Zealand, over green forests and blue lakes.

　　“Hark, so you hear the cock crow, little Tuk. ‘Cock-a-doodle-doo.’ The fowls are flying out of Kjøge. You shall have a large farm-yard. You shall never suffer hunger or want. The bird of good omen shall be yours, and you shall become a rich and happy man; your house shall rise up like King Waldemar’s towers, and shall be richly adorned with marble statues, like those at Præstø. Understand me well; your name shall travel with fame round the world like the ship that was to sail from Corsøe, and at Roeskilde,—Don’t forget the names of the towns, as King Hroar said,—you shall speak well and clearly little Tuk, and when at last you lie in your grave you shall sleep peacefully, as—”

　　“As if I lay in Sorø,” said little Tuk awaking. It was bright daylight, and he could not remember his dream, but that was not necessary, for we are not to know what will happen to us in the future. Then he sprang out of bed quickly, and read over his lesson in the book, and knew it all at once quite correctly. The old washerwoman put her head in at the door, and nodded to him quite kindly, and said, “Many thanks, you good child, for your help yesterday. I hope all your beautiful dreams will come true.”

　　Little Tuk did not at all know what he had dreamt, but One above did.