the nightingale and the rose-第1节

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THE　NIGHTINGALE　AND　THE　ROSE







〃She　said　that　she　would　dance　with　me　if　I　brought　her　red　roses；〃

cried　the　young　Student；　〃but　in　all　my　garden　there　is　no　red

rose。〃



From　her　nest　in　the　holm…oak　tree　the　Nightingale　heard　him；　and

she　looked　out　through　the　leaves；　and　wondered。



〃No　red　rose　in　all　my　garden！〃　he　cried；　and　his　beautiful　eyes

filled　with　tears。　　〃Ah；　on　what　little　things　does　happiness

depend！　　I　have　read　all　that　the　wise　men　have　written；　and　all

the　secrets　of　philosophy　are　mine；　yet　for　want　of　a　red　rose　is

my　life　made　wretched。〃



〃Here　at　last　is　a　true　lover；〃　said　the　Nightingale。　　〃Night　after

night　have　I　sung　of　him；　though　I　knew　him　not：　　night　after　night

have　I　told　his　story　to　the　stars；　and　now　I　see　him。　　His　hair　is

dark　as　the　hyacinth…blossom；　and　his　lips　are　red　as　the　rose　of

his　desire；　but　passion　has　made　his　face　like　pale　ivory；　and

sorrow　has　set　her　seal　upon　his　brow。〃



〃The　Prince　gives　a　ball　to…morrow　night；〃　murmured　the　young

Student；　〃and　my　love　will　be　of　the　company。　　If　I　bring　her　a　red

rose　she　will　dance　with　me　till　dawn。　　If　I　bring　her　a　red　rose；

I　shall　hold　her　in　my　arms；　and　she　will　lean　her　head　upon　my

shoulder；　and　her　hand　will　be　clasped　in　mine。　　But　there　is　no

red　rose　in　my　garden；　so　I　shall　sit　lonely；　and　she　will　pass　me

by。　　She　will　have　no　heed　of　me；　and　my　heart　will　break。〃



〃Here　indeed　is　the　true　lover；〃　said　the　Nightingale。　　〃What　I

sing　of；　he　suffers　…　what　is　joy　to　me；　to　him　is　pain。　　Surely

Love　is　a　wonderful　thing。　　It　is　more　precious　than　emeralds；　and

dearer　than　fine　opals。　　Pearls　and　pomegranates　cannot　buy　it；　nor

is　it　set　forth　in　the　marketplace。　　It　may　not　be　purchased　of　the

merchants；　nor　can　it　be　weighed　out　in　the　balance　for　gold。〃



〃The　musicians　will　sit　in　their　gallery；〃　said　the　young　Student；

〃and　play　upon　their　stringed　instruments；　and　my　love　will　dance

to　the　sound　of　the　harp　and　the　violin。　　She　will　dance　so　lightly

that　her　feet　will　not　touch　the　floor；　and　the　courtiers　in　their

gay　dresses　will　throng　round　her。　　But　with　me　she　will　not　dance；

for　I　have　no　red　rose　to　give　her〃；　and　he　flung　himself　down　on

the　grass；　and　buried　his　face　in　his　hands；　and　wept。



〃Why　is　he　weeping？〃　asked　a　little　Green　Lizard；　as　he　ran　past

him　with　his　tail　in　the　air。



〃Why；　indeed？〃　said　a　Butterfly；　who　was　fluttering　about　after　a

sunbeam。



〃Why；　indeed？〃　whispered　a　Daisy　to　his　neighbour；　in　a　soft；　low

voice。



〃He　is　weeping　for　a　red　rose；〃　said　the　Nightingale。



〃For　a　red　rose？〃　they　cried；　〃how　very　ridiculous！〃　and　the　little

Lizard；　who　was　something　of　a　cynic；　laughed　outright。



But　the　Nightingale　understood　the　secret　of　the　Student's　sorrow；

and　she　sat　silent　in　the　oak…tree；　and　thought　about　the　mystery

of　Love。



Suddenly　she　spread　her　brown　wings　for　flight；　and　soared　into　the

air。　　She　passed　through　the　grove　like　a　shadow；　and　like　a　shadow

she　sailed　across　the　garden。



In　the　centre　of　the　grass…plot　was　standing　a　beautiful　Rose…tree；

and　when　she　saw　it　she　flew　over　to　it；　and　lit　upon　a　spray。



〃Give　me　a　red　rose；〃　she　cried；　〃and　I　will　sing　you　my　sweetest

song。〃



But　the　Tree　shook　its　head。



〃My　roses　are　white；〃　it　answered；　〃as　white　as　the　foam　of　the

sea；　and　whiter　than　the　snow　upon　the　mountain。　　But　go　to　my

brother　who　grows　round　the　old　sun…dial；　and　perhaps　he　will　give

you　what　you　want。〃



So　the　Nightingale　flew　over　to　the　Rose…tree　that　was　growing

round　the　old　sun…dial。



〃Give　me　a　red　rose；〃　she　cried；　〃and　I　will　sing　you　my　sweetest

song。〃



But　the　Tree　shook　its　head。



〃My　roses　are　yellow；〃　it　answered；　〃as　yellow　as　the　hair　of　the

mermaiden　who　sits　upon　an　amber　throne；　and　yellower　than　the

daffodil　that　blooms　in　the　meadow　before　the　mower　comes　with　his

scythe。　　But　go　to　my　brother　who　grows　beneath　the　Student's

window；　and　perhaps　he　will　give　you　what　you　want。〃



So　the　Nightingale　flew　over　to　the　Rose…tree　that　was　growing

beneath　the　Student's　window。



〃Give　me　a　red　rose；〃　she　cried；　〃and　I　will　sing　you　my　sweetest

song。〃



But　the　Tree　shook　its　head。



〃My　roses　are　red；〃　it　answered；　〃as　red　as　the　feet　of　the　dove；

and　redder　than　the　great　fans　of　coral　that　wave　and　wave　in　the

ocean…cavern。　　But　the　winter　has　chilled　my　veins；　and　the　frost

has　nipped　my　buds；　and　the　storm　has　broken　my　branches；　and　I

shall　have　no　roses　at　all　this　year。〃



〃One　red　rose　is　all　I　want；〃　cried　the　Nightingale；　〃only　one　red

rose！　　Is　there　no　way　by　which　I　can　get　it？〃



〃There　is　away；〃　answered　the　Tree；　〃but　it　is　so　terrible　that　I

dare　not　tell　it　to　you。〃



〃Tell　it　to　me；〃　said　the　Nightingale；　〃I　am　not　afraid。〃



〃If　you　want　a　red　rose；〃　said　the　Tree；　〃you　must　build　it　out　of

music　by　moonlight；　and　stain　it　with　your　own　heart's…blood。　　You

must　sing　to　me　with　your　breast　against　a　thorn。　　All　night　long

you　must　sing　to　me；　and　the　thorn　must　pierce　your　heart；　and　your

life…blood　must　flow　into　my　veins；　and　become　mine。〃



〃Death　is　a　great　price　to　pay　for　a　red　rose；〃　cried　the

Nightingale；　〃and　Life　is　very　dear　to　all。　　It　is　pleasant　to　sit

in　the　green　wood；　and　to　watch　the　Sun　in　his　chariot　of　gold；　and

the　Moon　in　her　chariot　of　pearl。　　Sweet　is　the　scent　of　the

hawthorn；　and　sweet　are　the　bluebells　that　hide　in　the　valley；　and

the　heather　that　blows　on　the　hill。　　Yet　Love　is　better　than　Life；

and　what　is　the　heart　of　a　bird　compared　to　the　heart　of　a　man？〃



So　she　spread　her　brown　wings　for　flight；　and　soared　into　the　air。

She　swept　over　the　garden　like　a　shadow；　and　like　a　shadow　she

sailed　through　the　grove。



The　young　Student　was　still　lying　on　the　grass；　where　she　had　left

him；　and　the　tears　were　not　yet　dry　in　his　beautiful　eyes。



〃Be　happy；〃　cried　the　Nightingale；　〃be　happy；　you　shall　have　your

red　rose。　　I　will　build　it　out　of　music　by　moonlight；　and　stain　it

with　my　own　heart's…blood。　　All　that　I　ask　of　you　in　return　is　that

you　will　be　a　true　lover；　for　Love　is　wiser　than　Philosophy；　though

she　is　wise；　and　mightier　than　Power；　though　he　is　mighty。　　Flame…

coloured　are　his　wings；　and　coloured　like　flame　is　his　body。　　His

lips　are　sweet　as　honey；　and　his　breath　is　like　frankincense。〃



The　Student　looked　up　from　the　grass；　and　listened；　but　he　could

not　understand　what　the　Nightingale　was　saying　to　him；　for　he　only

knew　the　things　that　are　written　down　in　books。



But　the　Oak…tree　understood；　and　felt　sad；　for　he　was　very　fond　of

the　little　Nightingale　who　had　built　her　nest　in　his　branches。



〃Sing　me　one　last　song；〃　he　whispered；　〃I　shall　feel　very　lonely

when　you　are　gone。〃



So　the　Nightingale　sang　to　the　Oak…tree；　and　her　voice　was　like

water　bubbling　from　a　silver　jar。



When　she　had　finished　her　song　the　Student　got　up；　and　pulled　a

note…book　and　a　lead…pencil　out　of　his　pocket。



〃She　has　form；〃　he　said　to　himself；　as　he　walked　away　through　the

grove　…　〃that　cannot　be　denied　to　her；　but　has　she　got　feeling？　　I

am　afraid　not。　　In　fact；　she　is　like　most　artists；　she　is　all

style；　without　any　sincerity。　　She　would　not　sacrifice　herself　for

others。　　She　thinks　merely　of　music；　and　everybody　knows　that　the

arts　are　selfish。　　Still；　it　must　be　admitted　that　she　has　some

beautiful　notes　in　her　voice。　　What　a　pity　it　is　that　they　do　not

mean　anything；　or　do　any　practical　good。〃　　And　he　went　into　his

room；　and　lay　down　on　his　little　pallet…bed；　and　began　to　think　of

his　love；　and；　after　a　time；　he　fell　asleep。



And　when　the　Moon　shone　in　the　heavens　the　Nightingale　flew　to　the

Rose…tree；　and　set　her　breast　against　the　thorn。　　All　night　long

she　sang　with　her　breast　against　the　thorn；　and　the　cold　crystal

Moon　leaned　down　and　listened。　　All　night　long　she　sang；　and　the

thorn　went　deeper　and　deeper　into　her　breast；　and　her　life…blood

ebbed　away　from　her。



She　sang　first　of　the　birth　of　love　in　the　heart　of　a　boy　and　a

girl。　　And　on　the　top…most　spray　of　the　Rose…tree　there　blossomed　a

marvellous　rose；　petal　following　petal；　as　song　followed　song。

Pale　was　it；　at　first；　as　the　mist　that　hangs　over　the　river　…　pale

as　the　feet　of　the　morning；　and　silver　as　the　wings　of　the　dawn。

As　the　shadow　of　a　rose　in　a　mirror　of　silver；　as　the　shadow　of　a

rose　in　a　water…pool；　so　was　the　rose　that　blossomed　on　the　topmost

spray　of　the　Tree。



But　the　Tree　cried　to　the　Nightingale　to　press　closer　against　the

thorn。　　〃Press　closer；　little　Nightingale；〃　cried　the　Tree；　〃or　the

Day　will　come　before　the　rose　is　finished。〃



So　the　Nightingale　pressed　closer　against　the　thorn；　and　louder　and

louder　grew　her　song；　for　she　sang　of　the　birth　of　passion　in　the

soul　of　a　man　and　a　maid。



And　a　delicate　flush　of　pink　came　into　the　leaves　of　the　ros