what the moon saw-第6节

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off　only　a　minute　before…　hissed　off　from　a　wretched　theatre；　by　a

miserable　audience。　And　tonight　a　shabby　hearse　rolled　out　of　the

town…gate。　It　was　a　suicide…　our　painted；　despised　hero。　The　driver　of

the　hearse　was　the　only　person　present；　for　no　one　followed　except

my　beams。　In　a　corner　of　the　churchyard　the　corpse　of　the　suicide

was　shovelled　into　the　earth；　and　nettles　will　soon　be　growing

rankly　over　his　grave；　and　the　sexton　will　throw　thorns　and　weeds　from

the　other　graves　upon　it。〃

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　NINETEENTH　EVENING



　　　　〃I　come　from　Rome；〃　said　the　Moon。　〃In　the　midst　of　the　city；　upon

one　of　the　seven　hills；　lie　the　ruins　of　the　imperial　palace。　The　wild

fig　tree　grows　in　the　clefts　of　the　wall；　and　covers　the　nakedness

thereof　with　its　broad　grey…green　leaves；　trampling　among　heaps　of

rubbish；　the　ass　treads　upon　green　laurels；　and　rejoices　over　the　rank

thistles。　From　this　spot；　whence　the　eagles　of　Rome　once　flew

abroad；　whence　they　'came；　saw；　and　conquered；'　our　door　leads　into

a　little　mean　house；　built　of　clay　between　two　pillars；　the　wild

vine　hangs　like　a　mourning　garland　over　the　crooked　window。　An　old

woman　and　her　little　granddaughter　live　there：　they　rule　now　in　the

palace　of　the　Caesars；　and　show　to　strangers　the　remains　of　its　past

glories。　Of　the　splendid　throne…hall　only　a　naked　wall　yet　stands；　and

a　black　cypress　throws　its　dark　shadow　on　the　spot　where　the　throne

once　stood。　The　dust　lies　several　feet　deep　on　the　broken　pavement；

and　the　little　maiden；　now　the　daughter　of　the　imperial　palace；

often　sits　there　on　her　stool　when　the　evening　bells　ring。　The　keyhole

of　the　door　close　by　she　calls　her　turret　window；　through　this　she　can

see　half　Rome；　as　far　as　the　mighty　cupola　of　St。　Peter's。

　　　　〃On　this　evening；　as　usual；　stillness　reigned　around；　and　in　the

full　beam　of　my　light　came　the　little　granddaughter。　On　her　head　she

carried　an　earthen　pitcher　of　antique　shape　filled　with　water。　Her

feet　were　bare；　her　short　frock　and　her　white　sleeves　were　torn。　I

kissed　her　pretty　round　shoulders；　her　dark　eyes；　and　black　shining

hair。　She　mounted　the　stairs；　they　were　steep；　having　been　made　up

of　rough　blocks　of　broken　marble　and　the　capital　of　a　fallen　pillar。

The　coloured　lizards　slipped　away；　startled；　from　before　her　feet；　but

she　was　not　frightened　at　them。　Already　she　lifted　her　hand　to　pull

the　door…bell…　a　hare's　foot　fastened　to　a　string　formed　the

bell…handle　of　the　imperial　palace。　She　paused　for　a　moment…　of　what

might　she　be　thinking？　Perhaps　of　the　beautiful　Christ…child；

dressed　in　gold　and　silver；　which　was　down　below　in　the　chapel；

where　the　silver　candlesticks　gleamed　so　bright；　and　where　her

little　friends　sung　the　hymns　in　which　she　also　could　join？　I　know

not。　Presently　she　moved　again…　she　stumbled：　the　earthen　vessel

fell　from　her　head；　and　broke　on　the　marble　steps。　She　burst　into

tears。　The　beautiful　daughter　of　the　imperial　palace　wept　over　the

worthless　broken　pitcher；　with　her　bare　feet　she　stood　there

weeping；　and　dared　not　pull　the　string；　the　bell…rope　of　the

imperial　palace！〃

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　TWENTIETH　EVENING



　　　　It　was　more　than　a　fortnight　since　the　Moon　had　shone。　Now　he

stood　once　more；　round　and　bright；　above　the　clouds；　moving　slowly

onward。　Hear　what　the　Moon　told　me。

　　　　〃From　a　town　in　Fezzan　I　followed　a　caravan。　On　the　margin　of

the　sandy　desert；　in　a　salt　plain；　that　shone　like　a　frozen　lake；

and　was　only　covered　in　spots　with　light　drifting　sand；　a　halt　was

made。　The　eldest　of　the　company…　the　water　gourd　hung　at　his　girdle；

and　on　his　head　was　a　little　bag　of　unleavened　bread…　drew　a　square　in

the　sand　with　his　staff；　and　wrote　in　it　a　few　words　out　of　the　Koran；

and　then　the　whole　caravan　passed　over　the　consecrated　spot。　A　young

merchant；　a　child　of　the　East；　as　I　could　tell　by　his　eye　and　his

figure；　rode　pensively　forward　on　his　white　snorting　steed。　Was　he

thinking；　perchance；　of　his　fair　young　wife？　It　was　only　two　days

ago　that　the　camel；　adorned　with　furs　and　with　costly　shawls；　had

carried　her；　the　beauteous　bride；　round　the　walls　of　the　city；　while

drums　and　cymbals　had　sounded；　the　women　sang；　and　festive　shots；　of

which　the　bridegroom　fired　the　greatest　number；　resounded　round　the

camel；　and　now　he　was　journeying　with　the　caravan　across　the　desert。

　　　　〃For　many　nights　I　followed　the　train。　I　saw　them　rest　by　the

wellside　among　the　stunted　palms；　they　thrust　the　knife　into　the

breast　of　the　camel　that　had　fallen；　and　roasted　its　flesh　by　the

fire。　My　beams　cooled　the　glowing　sands；　and　showed　them　the　black

rocks；　dead　islands　in　the　immense　ocean　of　sand。　No　hostile　tribes

met　them　in　their　pathless　route；　no　storms　arose；　no　columns　of

sand　whirled　destruction　over　the　journeying　caravan。　At　home　the

beautiful　wife　prayed　for　her　husband　and　her　father。　'Are　they　dead？'

she　asked　of　my　golden　crescent；　'Are　they　dead？'　she　cried　to　my　full

disc。　Now　the　desert　lies　behind　them。　This　evening　they　sit　beneath

the　lofty　palm　trees；　where　the　crane　flutters　round　them　with　its

long　wings；　and　the　pelican　watches　them　from　the　branches　of　the

mimosa。　The　luxuriant　herbage　is　trampled　down；　crushed　by　the　feet　of

elephants。　A　troop　of　negroes　are　returning　from　a　market　in　the

interior　of　the　land：　the　women；　with　copper　buttons　in　their　black

hair；　and　decked　out　in　clothes　dyed　with　indigo；　drive　the

heavily…laden　oxen；　on　whose　backs　slumber　the　naked　black　children。　A

negro　leads　a　young　lion　which　he　has　brought；　by　a　string。　They

approach　the　caravan；　the　young　merchant　sits　pensive　and

motionless；　thinking　of　his　beautiful　wife；　dreaming；　in　the　land　of

the　blacks；　of　his　white　lily　beyond　the　desert。　He　raises　his　head；

and…　〃　But　at　this　moment　a　cloud　passed　before　the　Moon；　and　then

another。　I　heard　nothing　more　from　him　this　evening。

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　TWENTY…FIRST　EVENING



　　　　〃I　saw　a　little　girl　weeping；〃　said　the　Moon；　〃she　was　weeping

over　the　depravity　of　the　world。　She　had　received　a　most　beautiful

doll　as　a　present。　Oh；　that　was　a　glorious　doll；　so　fair　and　delicate！

She　did　not　seem　created　for　the　sorrows　of　this　world。　But　the

brothers　of　the　little　girl；　those　great　naughty　boys；　had　set　the

doll　high　up　in　the　branches　of　a　tree　and　had　run　away。

　　　　〃The　little　girl　could　not　reach　up　to　the　doll；　and　could　not

help　her　down；　and　that　is　why　she　was　crying。　The　doll　must　certainly

have　been　crying　too；　for　she　stretched　out　her　arms　among　the　green

branches；　and　looked　quite　mournful。　Yes；　these　are　the　troubles　of

life　of　which　the　little　girl　had　often　heard　tell。　Alas；　poor　doll！

it　began　to　grow　dark　already；　and　suppose　night　were　to　come　on

completely！　Was　she　to　be　left　sitting　on　the　bough　all　night　long？

No；　the　little　maid　could　not　make　up　her　mind　to　that。　'I'll　stay

with　you；'　she　said；　although　she　felt　anything　but　happy　in　her　mind。

She　could　almost　fancy　she　distinctly　saw　little　gnomes；　with　their

high…crowned　hats；　sitting　in　the　bushes；　and　further　back　in　the　long

walk；　tall　spectres　appeared　to　be　dancing。　They　came　nearer　and

nearer；　and　stretched　out　their　hands　towards　the　tree　on　which　the

doll　sat；　they　laughed　scornfully；　and　pointed　at　her　with　their

fingers。　Oh；　how　frightened　the　little　maid　was！　'But　if　one　has　not

done　anything　wrong；'　she　thought；　'nothing　evil　can　harm　one。　I

wonder　if　I　have　done　anything　wrong？'　And　she　considered。　'Oh；　yes！　I

laughed　at　the　poor　duck　with　the　red　rag　on　her　leg；　she　limped　along

so　funnily；　I　could　not　help　laughing；　but　it's　a　sin　to　laugh　at

animals。'　And　she　looked　up　at　the　doll。　'Did　you　laugh　at　the　duck

too？'　she　asked；　and　it　seemed　as　if　the　doll　shook　her　head。〃

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　TWENTY…SECOND　EVENING



　　　　〃I　looked　down　upon　Tyrol；〃　said　the　Moon；　〃and　my　beams　caused

the　dark　pines　to　throw　long　shadows　upon　the　rocks。　I　looked　at　the

pictures　of　St。　Christopher　carrying　the　Infant　Jesus　that　are　painted

there　upon　the　walls　of　the　houses；　colossal　figures　reaching　from　the

ground　to　the　roof。　St。　Florian　was　represented　pouring　water　on　the

burning　house；　and　the　Lord　hung　bleeding　on　the　great　cross　by　the

wayside。　To　the　present　generation　these　are　old　pictures；　but　I　saw

when　they　were　put　up；　and　marked　how　one　followed　the　other。　On　the

brow　of　the　mountain　yonder　is　perched；　like　a　swallow's　nest；　a

lonely　convent　of　nuns。　Two　of　the　sisters　stood　up　in　the　tower

tolling　the　bell；　they　were　both　young；　and　therefore　their　glances

flew　over　the　mountain　out　into　the　world。　A　travelling　coach　passed

by　below；　the　postillion　wound　his　horn；　and　the　poor　nuns　looked

after　the　carriage　for　a　moment　with　a　mournful　glance；　and　a　tear

gleamed　in　the　eyes　of　the　younger　one。　And　the　horn　sounded　faint　and

more　faintly；　and　the　convent　bell　drowned　its　expiring　echoes。〃

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　TWENTY…THIRD　EVENING



　　　　Hear　what　the　Moon　told　me。　〃Some　years　ago；　here　in　Copenhagen；　I

looked　through　the　window　of　a　mean　little　room。　The　fath