安徒生童话故事第12篇：坚定的锡兵The Brave Tin Soldier

时间：2023-06-16 15:32:04 文/秦风学童话北考网www.beiweimall.com

　　安徒生童话故事第：坚定的锡兵The Brave Tin Soldier 篇1

　　从前有二十五个锡做的兵士，他们都是兄弟，因为都是从一根旧的锡汤匙铸出来的。他们肩上扛着毛瑟枪①，眼睛直直地向前看着。他们的制服一半是红的，一半是蓝的，非常美丽。他们呆在一个匣子里。匣子盖被一揭开，他们在这世界上所听到的第一句活是：“锡兵!”这句话是一个小孩子喊出来的，他拍着双手。这是他的生日，这些锡兵就是他所得到的一件礼物。他现在把这些锡兵摆在桌子上。

　　每个兵都是一模一样的，只有一个稍微有点不同，他只有一条腿，因为他是最后铸出的，锡不够用了!但是他仍然能够用一条腿坚定地站着，跟别人用两条腿站着没有两样，而且后来最引人注意的也就是他。

　　在他们立着的那张桌子上，还摆着许多其他的玩具，不过最吸引人注意的一件东西是一个纸做的美丽的宫殿。从那些小窗子望进去，人们一直可以看到里面的大厅。大厅前面有几株小树，都是围着一面小镜子立着的——这小镜子算是代表一个湖。几只蜡做的小天鹅在湖上游来游去;它们的影子倒映在水里。这一切都是美丽的，不过最美丽的要算一位小姐，她站在敞开的宫殿门口。她也是纸剪出来的，不过她穿着一件漂亮的布裙子。她肩上飘着一条小小的蓝色缎带，看起来仿佛像一条头巾，缎带的中央插着一件亮晶晶的装饰品——简直有她整个脸庞那么大。这位小姐伸着双手——因为她是一个舞蹈艺术家。她有一条腿举得非常高，弄得那个锡兵简直望不见它，因此他就以为她也象自己一样，只有一条腿。

　　“她倒可以做我的妻子呢!”他心里想，“不过她的派头太大了。她住在一个官殿里，而我却只有一个匣子，而且我们还是二十五个人挤在一起，恐怕她是住不惯的。不过我倒不妨跟她认识认识。”

　　于是他就在桌上一个鼻烟壶后面平躺下来。从这个角度他可以看到这位漂亮的小姐——她一直是用一条腿站着的，丝毫没有失去她的平衡。

　　当黑夜到来的时候，其余的锡兵都走进匣子里去了，家里的人也都上床去睡了。玩偶们这时就活跃起来，它们互相“访问”，闹起“战争”来，或是开起“舞会”来。锡兵们也在他们的匣子里吵起来，因为他们也想出来参加，可是揭不开盖子。胡桃钳翻起筋斗来，石笔在石板上乱跳乱叫起来。这真像是魔王出世，结果把金丝鸟也弄醒了。她也开始发起议论来，而且出口就是诗。这时只有两个人没有离开原位：一个是锡兵，一个是那位小小的'舞蹈家。她的脚尖站得笔直，双臂外伸。锡兵也是稳定地用一条腿站着的，他的眼睛一忽儿也没有离开她。

　　忽然钟敲了十二下，于是“碰”!那个鼻烟壶的盖子掀开了。可是那里面并没有鼻烟，却有一个小小的黑妖精——这鼻烟壶原来是一个伪装。

　　“锡兵!”妖精说，“请你把你的眼睛放老实一点!”

　　可是锡兵装做没有听见。

　　“好吧，明天你瞧吧!”妖精说。

　　第二天早晨，小孩们都起来了。他们把锡兵移到窗台上。不知是那妖精在搞鬼呢，还是一阵阴风在作怪，窗忽然开了。锡兵就从三楼一个倒栽葱跌到地上。这一跤真是跌得可怕万分!他的腿直竖起来，他倒立在他的钢盔中。他的刺刀插在街上的铺石缝里。

　　保姆和那个小孩立刻下楼来寻找他。虽然他们几乎踩着了他的身体，可是他们仍然没有发现他。假如锡兵喊一声“我在这儿!”的话，他们也就看得见他了。不过他觉得自己既然穿着军服，高声大叫，是不合礼节的。

　　现在天空开始下雨了，雨点越下越密，最后简直是大雨倾盆了。雨停了以后，有两个野孩子在这儿走过。

　　“你瞧!”一个孩子说，“这儿躺着一个锡兵。我们让他去航行一番吧!”

　　他们用一张报纸折了一条船，把锡兵放在里面。锡兵就这么沿着水沟顺流而下。这两个孩子在岸上跟着他跑，拍着手。天啊!沟里掀起了一股多么大的浪涛啊!这是一股多么大的激流啊!下过一场大雨毕竟不同。纸船一上一下地簸动着，有时它旋转得那么急，弄得锡兵的头都昏起来。可是他站得很牢，面色一点也不变，肩上扛着毛瑟枪，眼睛向前看。

　　忽然这船流进一条很长很宽的下水道里去了。四周一片漆黑，仿佛他又回到他的匣子里去了。

　　“我倒要看看，究竟会流到什么地方去?”他想。“对了，对了，这是那个妖精在捣鬼。啊!假如那位小姐坐在船里的活，就是再加倍的黑暗我也不在乎。”

　　这时一只住在下水道里的大耗子来了。

　　“你有通行证吗?”耗子问。“把你的通行证拿出来!”

　　可是锡兵一句话也不回答，只是把自己手里的毛瑟枪握得更紧。

　　船继续往前急驶，耗子在后面跟着。乖乖!请看他那副张牙舞爪的样子，他对干草和木头碎片喊着：

　　“抓住他!抓住他!他没有留下过路钱!他没有交出通行证来看!”

　　可是激流非常湍急。在下水道尽头的地方，锡兵已经可以看得到前面的阳光了。不过他又听到一阵喧闹的声音——这声音可以把一个胆子大的人都吓倒。想想看吧：在下水道尽头的地方，水流冲进一条宽大的运河里去了。这对他说来是非常危险的，正好象我们被一股巨大的瀑布冲下去一样。

　　现在他已流进运河，没有办法止住了。船一直冲到外面去。可怜的锡兵只有尽可能地把他的身体直直地挺起来。谁也不能说，他曾经把眼皮眨过一下。这条船旋转了三四次，里面的水一直漫到了船边，船要下沉了。直立着的锡兵全身浸在水里，只有头伸在水外。船渐渐地在下沉，纸也慢慢地松开了。水现在已经淹到兵士的头上了……他不禁想起了那个美丽的、娇小的舞蹈家，他永远也不会再见到她了。这时他耳朵里响起了这样的话：

　　冲啊，冲啊，你这战士，

　　你的出路只有一死!

　　现在纸已经破了，锡兵也沉到了水底。不过，正在这时候，一条大鱼忽然把他吞到肚里去了。

　　啊，那里面是多么黑暗啊!比在下水道里还要糟，而且空间是那么狭小!不过锡兵是坚定的。就是当他直直地躺下来的时候，他仍然紧紧地扛着他的毛瑟枪。

　　这鱼东奔西撞，做出许多可怕的动作。后来它忽然变得安静起来。接着一道象闪电似的光射进它的身体。阳光照得很亮，这时有一个人在大声叫喊，“锡兵!”原来这条鱼已经被捉住，送到市场里卖掉，带进厨房里来，而且女仆用一把大刀子把它剖开了。她用两个手指把锡兵拦腰掐住，拿到客厅里来——这儿大家都要看看这位在鱼腹里作了一番旅行的、了不起的人物。不过锡兵一点也没有显出骄做的神气。

　　他们把他放在桌子上。在这儿，嗨!世界上不可思议的事情也真多!锡兵发现自己又来到了他从前的那个房间!他看到从前的那些小孩，看到桌上从前的那些玩具，还看到那座美丽的宫殿和那位可爱的、娇小的舞蹈家。她仍然用一条腿站着，她的另一条腿仍然是高高地翘在空中。她也是同样地坚定啊!她的精神使锡兵很受感动，他简直要流出锡眼泪来了，但是他不能这样做。他望着她，她也望着他，但是他们没有说一句话。

　　正在这时候，有一个小孩子拿起锡兵来，把他一股劲儿扔进火炉里去了。他没有说明任何理由，这当然又是鼻烟壶里的那个小妖精在捣鬼。

　　锡兵站在那儿，全身亮起来了，感到自己身上一股可怕的热气。不过这热气究竟是从火里发出来的呢，还是从他的爱情中发出来的呢，他完全不知道。他的一切光彩现在都没有了。这是他在旅途中失去的呢，还是由于悲愁的结果，谁也说不出来。他望着那位娇小的姑娘，而她也在望着他。他觉得他的身体在慢慢地融化，但是他仍然扛着枪，坚定地站着不动。这时门忽然开了，一阵风闯进来，吹起这位小姐。她就象茜尔妃德②一样，飞向火炉，飞到锡兵的身边去，化为火焰，立刻不见了，这时锡兵已经化成了一个锡块。第二天，当女仆把炉灰倒出去的时候，她发现锡兵已经成了一颗小小的锡心。可是那位舞蹈家留下来的只是那颗亮晶晶的装饰品，但它现在已经烧得象一块黑炭了。

　　①过去德国毛瑟(Mauser)工厂制造的各种枪都叫做毛瑟枪，一般是指该厂的步枪。

　　②根据中世纪欧洲人的迷信，茜尔妃德(Sylphide)是空气的仙女，她是一位体态轻盈，身材纤细，虚无缥缈的人儿。

　　坚定的锡兵英文版：

　　The Brave Tin Soldier

　　THERE were once five-and-twenty tin soldiers, who were all brothers, for they had been made out of the same old tin spoon. They shouldered arms and looked straight before them, and wore a splendid uniform, red and blue. The first thing in the world they ever heard were the words, “Tin soldiers!” uttered by a little boy, who clapped his hands with delight when the lid of the box, in which they lay, was taken off. They were given him for a birthday present, and he stood at the table to set them up. The soldiers were all exactly alike, excepting one, who had only one leg; he had been left to the last, and then there was not enough of the melted tin to finish him, so they made him to stand firmly on one leg, and this caused him to be very remarkable.

　　The table on which the tin soldiers stood, was covered with other playthings, but the most attractive to the eye was a pretty little paper castle. Through the small windows the rooms could be seen. In front of the castle a number of little trees surrounded a piece of looking-glass, which was intended to represent a transparent lake. Swans, made of wax, swam on the lake, and were reflected in it. All this was very pretty, but the prettiest of all was a tiny little lady, who stood at the open door of the castle; she, also, was made of paper, and she wore a dress of clear muslin, with a narrow blue ribbon over her shoulders just like a scarf. In front of these was fixed a glittering tinsel rose, as large as her whole face. The little lady was a dancer, and she stretched out both her arms, and raised one of her legs so high, that the tin soldier could not see it at all, and he thought that she, like himself, had only one leg. “That is the wife for me,” he thought; “but she is too grand, and lives in a castle, while I have only a box to live in, five-and-twenty of us altogether, that is no place for her. Still I must try and make her acquaintance.” Then he laid himself at full length on the table behind a snuff-box that stood upon it, so that he could peep at the little delicate lady, who continued to stand on one leg without losing her balance. When evening came, the other tin soldiers were all placed in the box, and the people of the house went to bed. Then the playthings began to have their own games together, to pay visits, to have sham fights, and to give balls. The tin soldiers rattled in their box; they wanted to get out and join the amusements, but they could not open the lid. The nut-crackers played at leap-frog, and the pencil jumped about the table. There was such a noise that the canary woke up and began to talk, and in poetry too. Only the tin soldier and the dancer remained in their places. She stood on tiptoe, with her legs stretched out, as firmly as he did on his one leg. He never took his eyes from her for even a moment. The clock struck twelve, and, with a bounce, up sprang the lid of the snuff-box; but, instead of snuff, there jumped up a little black goblin; for the snuff-box was a toy puzzle.

　　“Tin soldier,” said the goblin, “don’t wish for what does not belong to you.”

　　But the tin soldier pretended not to hear.

　　“Very well; wait till to-morrow, then,” said the goblin.

　　When the children came in the next morning, they placed the tin soldier in the window. Now, whether it was the goblin who did it, or the draught, is not known, but the window flew open, and out fell the tin soldier, heels over head, from the third story, into the street beneath. It was a terrible fall; for he came head downwards, his helmet and his bayonet stuck in between the flagstones, and his one leg up in the air. The servant maid and the little boy went down stairs directly to look for him; but he was nowhere to be seen, although once they nearly trod upon him. If he had called out, “Here I am,” it would have been all right, but he was too proud to cry out for help while he wore a uniform.

　　Presently it began to rain, and the drops fell faster and faster, till there was a heavy shower. When it was over, two boys happened to pass by, and one of them said, “Look, there is a tin soldier. He ought to have a boat to sail in.”

　　So they made a boat out of a newspaper, and placed the tin soldier in it, and sent him sailing down the gutter, while the two boys ran by the side of it, and clapped their hands. Good gracious, what large waves arose in that gutter! and how fast the stream rolled on! for the rain had been very heavy. The paper boat rocked up and down, and turned itself round sometimes so quickly that the tin soldier trembled; yet he remained firm; his countenance did not change; he looked straight before him, and shouldered his musket. Suddenly the boat shot under a bridge which formed a part of a drain, and then it was as dark as the tin soldier’s box.

　　“Where am I going now?” thought he. “This is the black goblin’s fault, I am sure. Ah, well, if the little lady were only here with me in the boat, I should not care for any darkness.”

　　Suddenly there appeared a great water-rat, who lived in the drain.

　　“Have you a passport?“ asked the rat, “give it to me at once.” But the tin soldier remained silent and held his musket tighter than ever. The boat sailed on and the rat followed it. How he did gnash his teeth and cry out to the bits of wood and straw, “Stop him, stop him; he has not paid toll, and has not shown his pass.“ But the stream rushed on stronger and stronger. The tin soldier could already see daylight shining where the arch ended. Then he heard a roaring sound quite terrible enough to frighten the bravest man. At the end of the tunnel the drain fell into a large canal over a steep place, which made it as dangerous for him as a waterfall would be to us. He was too close to it to stop, so the boat rushed on, and the poor tin soldier could only hold himself as stiffly as possible, without moving an eyelid, to show that he was not afraid. The boat whirled round three or four times, and then filled with water to the very edge; nothing could save it from sinking. He now stood up to his neck in water, while deeper and deeper sank the boat, and the paper became soft and loose with the wet, till at last the water closed over the soldier’s head. He thought of the elegant little dancer whom he should never see again, and the words of the song sounded in his ears—

　　“Farewell, warrior! ever brave,

　　Drifting onward to thy grave.”

　　Then the paper boat fell to pieces, and the soldier sank into the water and immediately afterwards was swallowed up by a great fish. Oh how dark it was inside the fish! A great deal darker than in the tunnel, and narrower too, but the tin soldier continued firm, and lay at full length shouldering his musket. The fish swam to and fro, making the most wonderful movements, but at last he became quite still. After a while, a flash of lightning seemed to pass through him, and then the daylight approached, and a voice cried out, “I declare here is the tin soldier.” The fish had been caught, taken to the market and sold to the cook, who took him into the kitchen and cut him open with a large knife. She picked up the soldier and held him by the waist between her finger and thumb, and carried him into the room. They were all anxious to see this wonderful soldier who had travelled about inside a fish; but he was not at all proud. They placed him on the table, and—how many curious things do happen in the world!—there he was in the very same room from the window of which he had fallen, there were the same children, the same playthings, standing on the table, and the pretty castle with the elegant little dancer at the door; she still balanced herself on one leg, and held up the other, so she was as firm as himself. It touched the tin soldier so much to see her that he almost wept tin tears, but he kept them back. He only looked at her and they both remained silent. Presently one of the little boys took up the tin soldier, and threw him into the stove. He had no reason for doing so, therefore it must have been the fault of the black goblin who lived in the snuff-box. The flames lighted up the tin soldier, as he stood, the heat was very terrible, but whether it proceeded from the real fire or from the fire of love he could not tell. Then he could see that the bright colors were faded from his uniform, but whether they had been washed off during his journey or from the effects of his sorrow, no one could say. He looked at the little lady, and she looked at him. He felt himself melting away, but he still remained firm with his gun on his shoulder. Suddenly the door of the room flew open and the draught of air caught up the little dancer, she fluttered like a sylph right into the stove by the side of the tin soldier, and was instantly in flames and was gone. The tin soldier melted down into a lump, and the next morning, when the maid servant took the ashes out of the stove, she found him in the shape of a little tin heart. But of the little dancer nothing remained but the tinsel rose, which was burnt black as a cinder.