英語(yǔ)閱讀《白雪皇后》

　　《白雪皇后》講述小國(guó)阿倫黛爾因一個(gè)魔咒永遠(yuǎn)地被冰天雪地覆蓋，為了尋回夏天，安娜公主和山民克里斯托夫以及他的馴鹿搭檔組隊(duì)出發(fā)，為展開(kāi)一段拯救王國(guó)的歷險(xiǎn)。以下是小編整理的英語(yǔ)閱讀《白雪皇后》，供大家參考借鑒，希望可以幫助到有需要的朋友。

　　The Snow Queen 白雪皇后

　　Now then! We will begin. When the story is done you shall know a great deal more than you do know.

　　He was a terribly bad hobgoblin, a goblin of the very wickedest sort and, in fact, he was the devil himself. One day the devil was in a very good humor because he had just finished a mirror which had this peculiar power: everything good and beautiful that was reflected in it seemed to dwindle to almost nothing at all, while everything that was worthless and ugly became most conspicuous and even uglier than ever. In this mirror the loveliest landscapes looked like boiled spinach, and the very best people became hideous, or stood on their heads and had no stomachs. Their faces were distorted beyond any recognition, and if a person had a freckle it was sure to spread until it covered both nose and mouth.

　　"Thats very funny!" said the devil. If a good, pious thought passed through anyones mind, it showed in the mirror as a carnal grin, and the devil laughed aloud at his ingenious invention.

　　All those who went to the hobgoblins school-for he had a school of his own-told everyone that a miracle had come to pass. Now, they asserted, for the very first time you could see how the world and its people really looked. They scurried about with the mirror until there was not a person alive nor a land on earth that had not been distorted.

　　Then they wanted to fly up to heaven itself, to scoff at the angels, and our Lord. The higher they flew with the mirror, the wider it grinned. They could hardly manage to hold it. Higher they flew, and higher still, nearer to heaven and the angels. Then the grinning mirror trembled with such violence that it slipped from their hands and fell to the earth, where it shattered into hundreds of millions of billions of bits, or perhaps even more. And now it caused more trouble than it did before it was broken, because some of the fragments were smaller than a grain of sand and these went flying throughout the wide world. Once they got in peoples eyes they would stay there. These bits of glass distorted everything the people saw, and made them see only the bad side of things, for every little bit of glass kept the same power that the whole mirror had possessed.

　　A few people even got a glass splinter in their hearts, and that was a terrible thing, for it turned their hearts into lumps of ice. Some of the fragments were so large that they were used as window panes-but not the kind of window through which you should look at your friends. Other pieces were made into spectacles, and evil things came to pass when people put them on to see clearly and to see justice done. The fiend was so tickled by it all that he laughed till his sides were sore. But fine bits of the glass are still flying through the air, and now you shall hear what happened.

　　Second Story

　　A Little Boy and a Little Girl

　　In the big city it was so crowded with houses and people that few found room for even a small garden and most people had to be content with a flowerpot, but two poor children who lived there managed to have a garden that was a little bigger than a flowerpot. These children were not brother and sister, but they loved each other just as much as if they had been. Their parents lived close to one another in the garrets of two adjoining houses. Where the roofs met and where the rain gutter ran between the two houses, their two small windows faced each other. One had only to step across the rain gutter to go from window to window.

　　In these windows, the parents had a large box where they planted vegetables for their use, and a little rose bush too. Each box had a bush, which thrived to perfection. Then it occurred to the parents to put these boxes across the gutter, where they very nearly reached from one window to the other, and looked exactly like two walls of flowers. The pea plants hung down over the boxes, and the rose bushes threw out long sprays that framed the windows and bent over toward each other. It was almost like a little triumphal arch of greenery and flowers. The boxes were very high, and the children knew that they were not to climb about on them, but they were often allowed to take their little stools out on the roof under the roses, where they had a wonderful time playing together.

　　Winter, of course, put an end to this pleasure. The windows often frosted over completely. But they would heat copper pennies on the stove and press these hot coins against the frost-coated glass. Then they had the finest of peepholes, as round as a ring, and behind them appeared a bright, friendly eye, one at each window-it was the little boy and the little girl who peeped out. His name was Kay and hers was Gerda. With one skip they could join each other in summer, but to visit together in the wintertime they had to go all the way downstairs in one house, and climb all the way upstairs in the other. Outside the snow was whirling.

　　"See the white bees swarming," the old grandmother said.

　　"Do they have a queen bee, too?" the little boy asked, for he knew that real bees have one.

　　"Yes, indeed they do," the grandmother said. "She flies in the thick of the swarm. She is the biggest bee of all, and can never stay quietly on the earth, but goes back again to the dark clouds. Many a wintry night she flies through the streets and peers in through the windows. Then they freeze over in a strange fashion, as if they were covered with flowers."

　　"Oh yes, weve seen that," both the children said, and so they knew it was true.

　　"Can the Snow Queen come in here?" the little girl asked.

　　"Well, let her come!" cried the boy. "I would put her on the hot stove and melt her."

　　But Grandmother stroked his head, and told them other stories.

　　That evening when little Kay was at home and half ready for bed, he climbed on the chair by the window and looked out through the little peephole. A few snowflakes were falling, and the largest flake of all alighted on the edge of one of the flower boxes. This flake grew bigger and bigger, until at last it turned into a woman, who was dressed in the finest white gauze which looked as if it had been made from millions of star-shaped flakes. She was beautiful and she was graceful, but she was ice-shining, glittering ice. She was alive, for all that, and her eyes sparkled like two bright stars, but in them there was neither rest nor peace. She nodded toward the window and beckoned with her hand. The little boy was frightened, and as he jumped down from the chair it seemed to him that a huge bird flew past the window.

　　The next day was clear and cold. Then the snow thawed, and springtime came. The sun shone, the green grass sprouted, swallows made their nests, windows were thrown open, and once again the children played in their little roof garden, high up in the rain gutter on top of the house.

　　That summer the roses bloomed their splendid best. The little girl had learned a hymn in which there was a line about roses that reminded her of their own flowers. She sang it to the little boy, and he sang it with her:

　　"Where roses bloom so sweetly in the vale,

　　There shall you find the Christ Child, without fail."

　　The children held each other by the hand, kissed the roses, looked up at the Lords clear sunshine, and spoke to it as if the Christ Child were there. What glorious summer days those were, and how beautiful it was out under those fragrant rose bushes which seemed as if they would never stop blooming.

　　Kay and Gerda were looking at a picture book of birds and beasts one day, and it was then-just as the clock in the church tower was striking five-that Kay cried:

　　"Oh! something hurt my heart. And now Ive got something in my eye."

　　The little girl put her arm around his neck, and he blinked his eye. No, she couldnt see anything in it.

　　"I think its gone," he said. But it was not gone. It was one of those splinters of glass from the magic mirror. You remember that goblins mirror-the one which made everything great and good that was reflected in it appear small and ugly, but which magnified all evil things until each blemish loomed large. Poor Kay! A fragment had pierced his heart as well, and soon it would turn into a lump of ice. The pain had stopped, but the glass was still there.

　　"Why should you be crying?" he asked. "It makes you look so ugly. Theres nothing the matter with me." And suddenly he took it into his head to say:

　　"Ugh! that rose is all worm-eaten. And look, this one is crooked. And these roses, they are just as ugly as they can be. They look like the boxes they grow in." He gave the boxes a kick, and broke off both of the roses.

　　"Kay! what are you doing?" the little girl cried. When he saw how it upset her, he broke off another rose and then leaped home through his own window, leaving dear little Gerda all alone.

　　Afterwards, when she brought out her picture book, he said it was fit only for babes in the cradle. And whenever Grandmother told stories, he always broke in with a "but-." If he could manage it he would steal behind her, perch a pair of spectacles on his nose, and imitate her. He did this so cleverly that it made everybody laugh, and before long he could mimic the walk and the talk of everyone who lived on that street. Everything that was odd or ugly about them, Kay could mimic so well that people said, "That boy has surely got a good head on him!" But it was the glass in his eye and the glass in his heart that made him tease even little Gerda, who loved him with all her soul.

　　Now his games were very different from what they used to be. They became more sensible. When the snow was flying about one wintry day, he brought a large magnifying glass out of doors and spread the tail of his blue coat to let the snowflakes fall on it.

　　"Now look through the glass," he told Gerda. Each snowflake seemed much larger, and looked like a magnificent flower or a ten-pointed star. It was marvelous to look at.

　　"Look, how artistic!" said Kay. "They are much more interesting to look at than real flowers, for they are absolutely perfect. There isnt a flaw in them, until they start melting."

　　A little while later Kay came down with his big gloves on his hands and his sled on his back. Right in Gerdas ear he bawled out, "Ive been given permission to play in the big square where the other boys are!" and away he ran.

　　In the square some of the more adventuresome boys would tie their little sleds on behind the farmers carts, to be pulled along for quite a distance. It was wonderful sport. While the fun was at its height, a big sleigh drove up. It was painted entirely white, and the driver wore a white, shaggy fur cloak and a white, shaggy cap. As the sleigh drove twice around the square, Kay quickly hooked his little sled behind it, and down the street they went, faster and faster. The driver turned around in a friendly fashion and nodded to Kay, just as if they were old acquaintances. Every time Kay started to unfasten his little sleigh, its driver nodded again, and Kay held on, even when they drove right out through the town gate.

　　Then the snow began to fall so fast that the boy could not see his hands in front of him, as they sped on. He suddenly let go the slack of the rope in his hands, in order so get loose from the big sleigh, but it did no good. His little sled was tied on securely, and they went like the wind. He gave a loud shout, but nobody heard him. The snow whirled and the sleigh flew along. Every now and then it gave a jump, as if it were clearing hedges and ditches. The boy was terror-stricken. He tried to say his prayers, but all he could remember was his multiplication tables.

　　The snowflakes got bigger and bigger, until they looked like big white hens. All of a sudden the curtain of snow parted, and the big sleigh stopped and the driver stood up. The fur coat and the cap were made of snow, and it was a woman, tall and slender and blinding white-she was the Snow Queen herself.

　　"We have made good time," she said. "Is it possible that you tremble from cold? Crawl under my bear coat." She took him up in the sleigh beside her, and as she wrapped the fur about him he felt as if he were sinking into a snowdrift.

　　"Are you still cold?" she asked, and kissed him on the forehead. Brer-r-r. That kiss was colder than ice. He felt it right down to his heart, half of which was already an icy lump. He felt as if he were dying, but only for a moment. Then he felt quite comfortable, and no longer noticed the cold.

　　"My sled! Dont forget my sled!" It was the only thing he thought of. They tied it to one of the white hens, which flew along after them with the sled on its back. The Snow Queen kissed Kay once more, and then he forgot little Gerda, and Grandmother, and all the others at home.

　　"You wont get any more kisses now," she said, "or else I should kiss you to death." Kay looked at her. She was so beautiful! A cleverer and prettier face he could not imagine. She no longer seemed to be made of ice, as she had seemed when she sat outside his window and beckoned to him. In his eyes she was perfect, and she was not at all afraid. He told her how he could do mental arithmetic even with fractions, and that he knew the size and population of all the countries. She kept on smiling, and he began to be afraid that he did not know as much as he thought he did. He looked up at the great big space overhead, as she flew with him high up on the black clouds, while the storm whistled and roared as if it were singing old ballads.

　　They flew over forests and lakes, over many a land and sea. Below them the wind blew cold, wolves howled, and black crows screamed as they skimmed across the glittering snow. But up above the moon shone bright and large, and on it Kay fixed his eyes throughout that long, long winter night. By day he slept at the feet of the Snow Queen.

　　Third Story

　　The Flower Garden of the Woman Skilled in Magic

　　How did little Gerda get along when Kay did not come back? Where could he be? Nobody knew. Nobody could give them any news of him. All that the boys could say was that they had seen him hitch his little sled to a fine big sleigh, which had driven down the street and out through the town gate. Nobody knew what had become of Kay. Many tears were shed, and little Gerda sobbed hardest of all. People said that he was dead-that he must have been drowned in the river not far from town. Ah, how gloomy those long winter days were!

　　But spring and its warm sunshine came at last.

　　"Kay is dead and gone," little Gerda said.

　　"I dont believe it," said the sunshine.

　　"Hes dead and gone," she said to the swallows.

　　"We dont believe it," they sang. Finally little Gerda began to disbelieve it too. One morning she said to herself:

　　"Ill put on my new red shoes, the ones Kay has never seen, and Ill go down by the river to ask about him."

　　It was very early in the morning. She kissed her old grandmother, who was still asleep, put on her red shoes, and all by herself she hurried out through the town gate and down to the river.

　　"Is it true that you have taken my own little playmate? Ill give you my red shoes if you will bring him back to me."

　　It seemed to her that the waves nodded very strangely. So she took off her red shoes that were her dearest possession, and threw them into the river. But they fell near the shore, and the little waves washed them right back to her. It seemed that the river could not take her dearest possession, because it did not have little Kay. However, she was afraid that she had not thrown them far enough, so she clambered into a boat that lay among the reeds, walked to the end of it, and threw her shoes out into the water again. But the boat was not tied, and her movements made it drift away from the bank. She realized this, and tried to get ashore, but by the time she reached the other end of the boat it was already more than a yard from the bank, and was fast gaining speed.

　　Little Gerda was so frightened that she began to cry, and no one was there to hear her except the sparrows. They could not carry her to land, but they flew along the shore twittering, "We are here! Here we are!" as if to comfort her. The boat drifted swiftly down the stream, and Gerda sat there quite still, in her stocking feet. Her little red shoes floated along behind, but they could not catch up with her because the boat was gathering headway. It was very pretty on both sides of the river, where the flowers were lovely, the trees were old, and the hillsides afforded pasture for cattle and sheep. But not one single person did Gerda see.

　　"Perhaps the river will take me to little Kay," she thought, and that made her feel more cheerful. She stood up and watched the lovely green banks for hour after hour.

　　Then she came to a large cherry orchard, in which there was a little house with strange red and blue windows. It had a thatched roof, and outside it stood two wooden soldiers, who presented arms to everyone who sailed past.

　　Gerda thought they were alive, and called out to them, but of course they did not answer her. She drifted quite close to them as the current drove the boat toward the bank. Gerda called even louder, and an old, old woman came out of the house. She leaned on a crooked stick; she had on a big sun hat, and on it were painted the most glorious flowers.

　　"You poor little child!" the old woman exclaimed. "However did you get lost on this big swift river, and however did you drift so far into the great wide world?" The old woman waded right into the water, caught hold of the boat with her crooked stick, pulled it in to shore, and lifted little Gerda out of it.

　　Gerda was very glad to be on dry land again, but she felt a little afraid of this strange old woman, who said to her:

　　"Come and tell me who you are, and how you got here." Gerda told her all about it. The woman shook her head and said, "Hmm, hmm!" And when Gerda had told her everything and asked if she hadnt seen little Kay, the woman said he had not yet come by, but that he might be along any day now. And she told Gerda not to take it so to heart, but to taste her cherries and to look at her flowers. These were more beautiful than any picture book, and each one had a story to tell. Then she led Gerda by the hand into her little house, and the old woman locked the door.

　　The windows were placed high up on the walls, and through their red, blue, and yellow panes the sunlight streamed in a strange mixture of all the colors there are. But on the table were the most delicious cherries, and Gerda, who was no longer afraid, ate as many as she liked. While she was eating them, the old woman combed her hair with a golden comb. Gerdas pretty hair fell in shining yellow ringlets on either side of a friendly little face that was as round and blooming as a rose.

　　"Ive so often wished for a dear little girl like you," the old woman told her. "Now youll see how well the two of us will get along." While her hair was being combed, Gerda gradually forgot all about Kay, for the old woman was skilled in magic. But she was not a wicked witch. She only dabbled in magic to amuse herself, but she wanted very much to keep little Gerda. So she went out into her garden and pointed her crooked stick at all the rose bushes. In the full bloom of their beauty, all of them sank down into the black earth, without leaving a single trace behind. The old woman was afraid that if Gerda saw them they would remind her so strongly of her own roses, and of little Kay, that she would run away again.

　　Then Gerda was led into the flower garden. How fragrant and lovely it was! Every known flower of every season was there in full bloom. No picture book was ever so pretty and gay. Gerda jumped for joy, and played in the garden until the sun went down behind the tall cherry trees. Then she was tucked into a beautiful bed, under a red silk coverlet quilted with blue violets. There she slept, and there she dreamed as gloriously as any queen on her wedding day.

　　The next morning she again went out into the warm sunshine to play with the flowers-and this she did for many a day. Gerda knew every flower by heart, and, plentiful though they were, she always felt that there was one missing, but which one she didnt quite know. One day she sat looking at the old womans sun hat, and the prettiest of all the flowers painted on it was a rose. The old woman had forgotten this rose on her hat when she made the real roses disappear in the earth. But thats just the sort of thing that happens when one doesnt stop to think.

　　"Why arent there any roses here?" said Gerda. She rushed out among the flower beds, and she looked and she looked, but there wasnt a rose to be seen. Then she sat down and cried. But her hot tears fell on the very spot where a rose bush had sunk into the ground, and when her warm tears moistened the earth the bush sprang up again, as full of blossoms as when it disappeared. Gerda hugged it, and kissed the roses. She remembered her own pretty roses, and thought of little Kay.

　　"Oh how long I have been delayed," the little girl said. "I should have been looking for Kay. Dont you know where he is?" she asked the roses. "Do you think that he is dead and gone?"

　　"He isnt dead," the roses told her. "We have been down in the earth where the dead people are, but Kay is not there."

　　"Thank you," said little Gerda, who went to all the other flowers, put her lips near them and asked, "Do you know where little Kay is?"

　　But every flower stood in the sun, and dreamed its own fairy tale, or its story. Though Gerda listened to many, many of them, not one of the flowers knew anything about Kay.

　　What did the tiger lily say?

　　"Do you hear the drum? Boom, boom! It was only two notes, always boom, boom! Hear the women wail. Hear the priests chant. The Hindoo woman in her long red robe stands on the funeral pyre. The flames rise around her and her dead husband, but the Hindoo woman is thinking of that living man in the crowd around them. She is thinking of him whose eyes are burning hotter than the flames-of him whose fiery glances have pierced her heart more deeply than these flames that soon will burn her body to ashes. Can the flame of the heart die in the flame of the funeral pyre?"

　　"I dont understand that at all," little Gerda said.

　　"Thats my fairy tale," said the lily.

　　What did the trumpet flower say?

　　"An ancient castle rises high from a narrow path in the mountains. The thick ivy grows leaf upon leaf where it climbs to the balcony. There stands a beautiful maiden. She leans out over the balustrade to look down the path. No rose on its stem is as graceful as she, nor is any apple blossom in the breeze so light. Hear the rustle of her silk gown, sighing, Will he never come?"

　　"Do you mean Kay?" little Gerda asked.

　　"I am talking about my story, my own dream," the trumpet flower replied.

　　What did the little snowdrop say?

　　"Between the trees a board hangs by two ropes. It is a swing. Two pretty little girls, with frocks as white as snow, and long green ribbons fluttering from their hats, are swinging. Their brother, who is bigger than they are, stands behind them on the swing, with his arms around the ropes to hold himself. In one hand he has a little cup, and in the other a clay pipe. He is blowing soap bubbles, and as the swing flies the bubbles float off in all their changing colors. The last bubble is still clinging to the bowl of his pipe, and fluttering in the air as the swing sweeps to and fro. A little black dog, light as a bubble, is standing on his hind legs and trying to get up in the swing. But it does not stop. High and low the swing flies, until the dog loses his balance, barks, and loses his temper. They tease him, and the bubble bursts. A swinging board pictured in a bubble before it broke-that is my story."

　　"It may be a very pretty story, but you told it very sadly and you didnt mention Kay at all."

　　What did the hyacinths say?

　　"There were three sisters, quite transparent and very fair. One wore a red dress, the second wore a blue one, and the third went all in white. Hand in hand they danced in the clear moonlight, beside a calm lake. They were not elfin folk. They were human beings. The air was sweet, and the sisters disappeared into the forest. The fragrance of the air grew sweeter. Three coffins, in which lie the three sisters, glide out of the forest and across the lake. The fireflies hover about them like little flickering lights. Are the dancing sisters sleeping or are they dead? The fragrance of the flowers says they are dead, and the evening bell tolls for their funeral."

　　"You are making me very unhappy," little Gerda said. "Your fragrance is so strong that I cannot help thinking of those dead sisters. Oh, could little Kay really be dead? The roses have been down under the ground, and they say no."

　　"Ding, dong," tolled the hyacinth bells. "We do not toll for little Kay. We do not know him. We are simply singing our song-the only song we know."

　　And Gerda went on to the buttercup that shone among its glossy green leaves.

　　"You are like a bright little sun," said Gerda. "Tell me, do you know where I can find my playmate?"

　　And the buttercup shone brightly as it looked up at Gerda. But what sort of song would a buttercup sing? It certainly wouldnt be about Kay.

　　"In a small courtyard, Gods sun was shining brightly on the very first day of spring. Its beams glanced along the white wall of the house next door, and close by grew the first yellow flowers of spring shining like gold in the warm sunlight. An old grandmother was sitting outside in her chair. Her granddaughter, a poor but very pretty maidservant, had just come home for a little visit. She kissed her grandmother, and there was gold, a heart full of gold, in that kiss. Gold on her lips, gold in her dreams, and gold above in the morning beams. There, Ive told you my little story," said the buttercup.

　　"Oh, my poor old Grandmother," said Gerda. "She will miss me so. She must be grieving for me as much as she did for little Kay. But Ill soon go home again, and Ill bring Kay with me. Theres no use asking the flowers about him. They dont know anything except their own songs, and they havent any news for me."

　　Then she tucked up her little skirts so that she could run away faster, but the narcissus tapped against her leg as she was jumping over it. So she stopped and leaned over the tall flower.

　　"Perhaps you have something to tell me," she said.

　　What did the narcissus say?

　　"I can see myself! I can see myself! Oh, how sweet is my own fragrance! Up in the narrow garret there is a little dancer, half dressed. First she stands on one leg. Then she stands on both, and kicks her heels at the whole world. She is an illusion of the stage. She pours water from the teapot over a piece of cloth she is holding-it is her bodice.Cleanliness is such a virtue! Her white dress hangs from a hook. It too has been washed in the teapot, and dried on the roof. She puts it on, and ties a saffron scarf around her neck to make the dress seem whiter. Point your toes! See how straight she balances on that single stem. I can see myself! I can see myself!"

　　"Im not interested," said Gerda. "What a thing to tell me about!"

　　She ran to the end of the garden, and though the gate was fastened she worked the rusty latch till it gave way and the gate flew open. Little Gerda scampered out into the wide world in her bare feet. She looked back three times, but nobody came after her. At last she could run no farther, and she sat down to rest on a big stone, and when she looked up she saw that summer had gone by, and it was late in the fall. She could never have guessed it inside the beautiful garden where the sun was always shining, and the flowers of every season were always in full bloom.

　　"Gracious! how long Ive dallied," Gerda said. "Fall is already here. I cant rest any longer."

　　She got up to run on, but how footsore and tired she was! And how cold and bleak everything around her looked! The long leaves of the willow tree had turned quite yellow, and damp puffs of mist dropped from them like drops of water. One leaf after another fell to the ground. Only the blackthorn still bore fruit, and its fruit was so sour that it set your teeth on edge.

　　Oh, how dreary and gray the wide world looked.

　　Fourth Story

　　The Prince and the Princess

　　The next time that Gerda was forced to rest, a big crow came hopping across the snow in front of her. For a long time he had been watching her and cocking his head to one side, and now he said, "Caw, caw! Good caw day!" He could not say it any better, but he felt kindly inclined toward the little girl, and asked her where she was going in the great wide world, all alone. Gerda understood him when he said "alone," and she knew its meaning all too well. She told the crow the whole story of her life, and asked if he hadnt seen Kay. The crow gravely nodded his head and cawed, "Maybe I have, maybe I have!"

　　"What! do you really think you have?" the little girl cried, and almost hugged the crow to death as she kissed him.

　　"Gently, gently!" said the crow. "I think that it may have been little Kay that I saw, but if it was, then he has forgotten you for the Princess."

　　"Does he live with a Princess?" Gerda asked.

　　"Yes. Listen!" said the crow. "But it is so hard for me to speak your language. If you understand crow talk, I can tell you much more easily."

　　"I dont know that language," said Gerda. "My grandmother knows it, just as well as she knows baby talk, and I do wish I had learned it."

　　"No matter," said the crow. "Ill tell you as well as I can, though that wont be any too good." And he told her all that he knew.

　　"In the kingdom where we are now, there is a Princess who is uncommonly clever, and no wonder. She has read all the newspapers in the world and forgotten them again - thats how clever she is. Well, not long ago she was sitting on her throne. Thats by no means as much fun as people suppose, so she fell to humming an old tune, and the refrain of it happened to run:

　　"Why, oh, why, shouldnt I get married?"

　　" Why, thats an idea! said she. And she made up her mind to marry as soon as she could find the sort of husband who could give a good answer when anyone spoke to him, instead of one of those fellows who merely stand around looking impressive, for that is so tiresome. She had the drums drubbed to call together all her ladies-in-waiting, and when they heard what she had in mind they were delighted.

　　" Oh, we like that! they said. We were just thinking the very same thing.

　　"Believe me," said the crow, "every word I tell you is true. I have a tame ladylove who has the run of the palace, and I had the whole story straight from her." Of course his ladylove was also a crow, for birds of a feather will flock together.

　　"The newspapers immediately came out with a border of hearts and the initials of the Princess, and you could read an announcement that any presentable young man might go to the palace and talk with her. The one who spoke best, and who seemed most at home in the palace, would be chosen by the Princess as her husband.

　　"Yes, yes," said the crow, "believe me, thats as true as it is that here I sit. Men flocked to the palace, and there was much crowding and crushing, but on neither the first nor the second day was anyone chosen. Out in the street they were all glib talkers, but after they entered the palace gate where the guardsmen were stationed in their silver-braided uniforms, and after they climbed up the staircase lined with footmen in gold-embroidered livery, they arrived in the brilliantly lighted reception halls without a word to say. And when they stood in front of the Princess on her throne, the best they could do was to echo the last word of her remarks, and she didnt care to hear it repeated.

　　"It was just as if everyone in the throne room had his stomach filled with snuff and had fallen asleep; for as soon as they were back in the streets there was no stopping their talk.

　　"The line of candidates extended all the way from the town gates to the palace. I saw them myself," said the crow. "They got hungry and they got thirsty, but from the palace they got nothing-not even a glass of lukewarm water. To be sure, some of the clever candidates had brought sandwiches with them, but they did not share them with their neighbors. Each man thought, Just let him look hungry, then the Princess wont take him! "

　　"But Kay, little Kay," Gerda interrupted, "when did he come? Was he among those people?"

　　"Give me time, give me time! We are just coming to him. On the third day a little person, with neither horse nor carriage, strode boldly up to the palace. His eyes sparkled the way yours do, and he had handsome long hair, but his clothes were poor."

　　"Oh, that was Kay!" Gerda said, and clapped her hands in glee. "Now Ive found him."

　　"He had a little knapsack on his back," the crow told her.

　　"No, that must have been his sled," said Gerda. "He was carrying it when he went away."

　　"Maybe so," the crow said. "I didnt look at it carefully. But my tame ladylove told me that when he went through the palace gates and saw the guardsmen in silver, and on the staircase the footmen in gold, he wasnt at all taken aback. He nodded and he said to them:

　　" It must be very tiresome to stand on the stairs. Id rather go inside.

　　"The halls were brilliantly lighted. Ministers of state and privy councilors were walking about barefooted, carrying golden trays in front of them. It was enough to make anyone feel solemn, and his boots creaked dreadfully, but he wasnt a bit afraid."

　　"That certainly must have been Kay," said Gerda. "I know he was wearing new boots. I heard them creaking in Grandmothers room."

　　"Oh, they creaked all right," said the crow. "But it was little enough he cared as he walked straight to the Princess, who was sitting on a pearl as big as a spinning wheel. All the ladies-in-waiting with their attendants and their attendants attendants, and all the lords-in-waiting with their gentlemen and their gentlemens men, each of whom had his page with him, were standing there, and the nearer they stood to the door the more arrogant they looked. The gentlemens mens pages, who always wore slippers, were almost too arrogant to look as they stood at the threshold."

　　"That must have been terrible!" little Gerda exclaimed. "And yet Kay won the Princess?"

　　"If I werent a crow, I would have married her myself, for all that Im engaged to another. They say he spoke as well as I do when I speak my crow language. Or so my tame ladylove tells me. He was dashing and handsome, and he was not there to court the Princess but to hear her wisdom. This he liked, and she liked him."

　　"Of course it was Kay," said Gerda. "He was so clever that he could do mental arithmetic even with fractions. Oh, please take me to the palace."

　　"Thats easy enough to say," said the crow, "but how can we manage it? Ill talk it over with my tame ladylove, and she may be able to suggest something, but I must warn you that a little girl like you will never be admitted."

　　"Oh, yes I shall," said Gerda. "When Kay hears about me, he will come out to fetch me at once."

　　"Wait for me beside that stile," the crow said. He wagged his head and off he flew.

　　Darkness had set in when he got back.

　　"Caw, caw!" he said. "My ladylove sends you her best wishes, and heres a little loaf of bread for you. She found it in the kitchen, where they have all the bread they need, and you must be hungry. You simply cant get into the palace with those bare feet. The guardsmen in silver and the footmen in gold would never permit it. But dont you cry. Well find a way. My ladylove knows of a little back staircase that leads up to the bedroom, and she knows where they keep the key to it."

　　Then they went into the garden and down the wide promenade where the leaves were falling one by one. When, one by one, the lights went out in the palace, the crow led little Gerda to the back door, which stood ajar.

　　Oh, how her heart did beat with fear and longing. It was just as if she were about to do something wrong, yet she only wanted to make sure that this really was little Kay. Yes, truly it must be Kay, she thought, as she recalled his sparkling eyes and his long hair. She remembered exactly how he looked when he used to smile at her as they sat under the roses at home. Wouldnt he be glad to see her! Wouldnt he be interested in hearing how far she had come to find him, and how sad they had all been when he didnt come home. She was so frightened, and yet so happy.

　　Now they were on the stairway. A little lamp was burning on a cupboard, and there stood the tame crow, cocking her head to look at Gerda, who made the curtsy that her grandmother had taught her.

　　"My fiancé has told me many charming things about you, dear young lady," she said. "Your biography, as one might say, is very touching. Kindly take the lamp and I shall lead the way. We shall keep straight ahead, where we arent apt to run into anyone."

　　"It seems to me that someone is on the stairs behind us," said Gerda. Things brushed past, and from the shadows on the wall they seemed to be horses with spindly legs and waving manes. And there were shadows of huntsmen, ladies and gentlemen, on horseback.

　　"Those are only dreams," said the crow. "They come to take the thoughts of their royal masters off to the chase. Thats just as well, for it will give you a good opportunity to see them while they sleep. But I trust that, when you rise to high position and power, you will show a grateful heart."

　　"Tut tut! Youve no need to say that," said the forest crow.

　　Now they entered the first room. It was hung with rose-colored satin, embroidered with flowers. The dream shadows were flitting by so fast that Gerda could not see the lords and ladies. Hall after magnificent hall quite bewildered her, until at last they reached the royal bedroom.

　　The ceiling of it was like the top of a huge palm tree, with leaves of glass, costly glass. In the middle of the room two beds hung from a massive stem of gold. Each of them looked like a lily. One bed was white, and there lay the Princess. The other was red, and there Gerda hoped to find little Kay. She bent one of the scarlet petals and saw the nape of a little brown neck. Surely this must be Kay. She called his name aloud and held the lamp near him. The dreams on horseback pranced into the room again, as he awoke-and turned his head-and it was not little Kay at all.

　　The Prince only resembled Kay about the neck, but he was young and handsome. The Princess peeked out of her lily-white bed, and asked what had happened. Little Gerda cried and told them all about herself, and about all that the crows had done for her.

　　"Poor little thing," the Prince and the Princess said. They praised the crows, and said they werent the least bit angry with them, but not to do it again. Furthermore, they should have a reward.

　　"Would you rather fly about without any responsibilities," said the Princess, "or would you care to be appointed court crows for life, with rights to all scraps from the kitchen?"

　　Both the crows bowed low and begged for permanent office, for they thought of their future and said it was better to provide for their "old age," as they called it.

　　The Prince got up, and let Gerda have his bed. It was the utmost that he could do. She clasped her little hands and thought, "How nice the people and the birds are." She closed her eyes, fell peacefully asleep, and all the dreams came flying back again. They looked like angels, and they drew a little sled on which Kay sat. He nodded to her, but this was only in a dream, so it all disappeared when she woke up.

　　The next day she was dressed from her head to her heels in silk and in velvet too. They asked her to stay at the palace and have a nice time there, but instead she begged them to let her have a little carriage, a little horse, and a pair of little boots, so that she could drive out into the wide world to find Kay.

　　They gave her a pair of boots, and also a muff. They dressed her as nicely as could be and, when she was ready to go, there at the gate stood a brand new carriage of pure gold. On it the coat of arms of the Prince and the Princess glistened like a star.

　　The coachman, the footman, and the postilions-for postilions there were-all wore golden crowns. The Prince and the Princess themselves helped her into the carriage, and wished her Godspeed. The forest crow, who was now a married man, accompanied her for the first three miles, and sat beside Gerda, for it upset him to ride backward. The other crow stood beside the gate and waved her wings. She did not accompany them because she was suffering from a headache, brought on by eating too much in her new position. Inside, the carriage was lined with sugared cookies, and the seats were filled with fruit and gingerbread.

　　"Fare you well, fare you well," called the Prince and Princess. Little Gerda cried and the crow cried too, for the first few miles. Then the crow said good-by, and that was the saddest leave-taking of all. He flew up into a tree and waved his big black wings as long as he could see the carriage, which flashed as brightly as the sun.

　　Fifth Story

　　The Little Robber Girl

　　The carriage rolled on into a dark forest. Like a blazing torch, it shone in the eyes of some robbers. They could not bear it.

　　"Thats gold! Thats gold!" they cried. They sprang forward, seized the horses, killed the little postilions, the coachman, and the footman, and dragged little Gerda out of the carriage.

　　"How plump and how tender she looks, just as if shed been fattened on nuts!" cried the old robber woman, who had a long bristly beard, and long eyebrows that hung down over her eyes. "She looks like a fat little lamb. What a dainty dish she will be!" As she said this she drew out her knife, a dreadful, flashing thing.

　　"Ouch!" the old woman howled. At just that moment her own little daughter had bitten her ear. The little girl, whom she carried on her back, was a wild and reckless creature. "You beasty brat!" her mother exclaimed, but it kept her from using that knife on Gerda.

　　"She shall play with me," said the little robber girl. "She must give me her muff and that pretty dress she wears, and sleep with me in my bed." And she again gave her mother such a bite that the woman hopped and whirled around in pain. All the robbers laughed, and shouted:

　　"See how she dances with her brat."

　　"I want to ride in the carriage," the little robber girl said, and ride she did, for she was too spoiled and headstrong for words. She and Gerda climbed into the carriage and away they drove over stumps and stones, into the depths of the forest. The little robber girl was no taller than Gerda, but she was stronger and much broader in the shoulders. Her skin was brown and her eyes coal-black-almost sad in their expression. She put her arms around Gerda, and said:

　　"They shant kill you unless I get angry with you. I think you must be a Princess."

　　"No, Im not," said little Gerda. And she told about all that had happened to her, and how much she cared for little Kay. The robber girl looked at her gravely, gave a little nod of approval, and told her:

　　"Even if I should get angry with you, they shant kill you, because Ill do it myself!" Then she dried Gerdas eyes, and stuck her own hands into Gerdas soft, warm muff.

　　The carriage stopped at last, in the courtyard of a robbers castle. The walls of it were cracked from bottom to top. Crows and ravens flew out of every loophole, and bulldogs huge enough to devour a man jumped high in the air. But they did not bark, for that was forbidden.

　　In the middle of the stone-paved, smoky old hall, a big fire was burning. The smoke of it drifted up to the ceiling, where it had to find its own way out. Soup was boiling in a big caldron, and hares and rabbits were roasting on the spit.

　　"Tonight you shall sleep with me and all my little animals," the robber girl said. After they had something to eat and drink, they went over to a corner that was strewn with rugs and straw. On sticks and perches around the bedding roosted nearly a hundred pigeons. They seemed to be asleep, but they stirred just a little when the two little girls came near them.

　　"They are all mine, " said the little robber girl. She seized the one that was nearest to her, held it by the legs and shook it until it flapped its wings. "Kiss it," she cried, and thrust the bird in Gerdas face. "Those two are the wild rascals," she said, pointing high up the wall to a hole barred with wooden sticks. "Rascals of the woods they are, and they would fly away in a minute if they were not locked up."

　　"And here is my old sweetheart, Bae," she said, pulling at the horns of a reindeer that was tethered by a shiny copper ring around his neck. "We have to keep a sharp eye on him, or he would run away from us too. Every single night I tickle his neck with my knife blade, for he is afraid of that." From a hole in the wall she pulled a long knife, and rubbed it against the reindeers neck. After the poor animal had kicked up its heals, the robber girl laughed and pulled Gerda down into the bed with her.

　　"Are you going to keep that knife in bed with you?" Gerda asked, and looked at it a little frightened.

　　"I always sleep with my knife," the little robber girl said. "You never can tell what may happen. But lets hear again what you told me before about little Kay, and about why you are wandering through the wide world."

　　Gerda told the story all over again, while the wild pigeons cooed in their cage overhead, and the tame pigeons slept. The little robber girl clasped one arm around Gerdas neck, gripped her knife in the other hand, fell asleep, and snored so that one could hear her. But Gerda could not close her eyes at all. She did not know whether she was to live or whether she was to die. The robbers sat around their fire, singing and drinking, and the old robber woman was turning somersaults. It was a terrible sight for a little girl to see.

　　Then the wood pigeons said, "Coo, coo. We have seen little Kay. A white hen was carrying his sled, and Kay sat in the Snow Queens sleigh. They swooped low, over the trees where we lay in our nest. The Snow Queen blew upon us, and all the young pigeons died except us. Coo, coo."

　　"What is that you are saying up there?" cried Gerda. "Where was the Snow Queen going? Do you know anything about it?"

　　"She was probably bound for Lapland, where they always have snow and ice. Why dont you ask the reindeer who is tethered beside you?"

　　"Yes, there is ice and snow in that glorious land," the reindeer told her. "You can prance about freely across those great, glittering fields. The Snow Queen has her summer tent there, but her stronghold is a castle up nearer the North Pole, on the island called Spitzbergen."

　　"Oh, Kay, little Kay," Gerda sighed.

　　"Lie still," said the robber girl, "or Ill stick my knife in your stomach."

　　In the morning Gerda told her all that the wood pigeons had said. The little robber girl looked quite thoughtful. She nodded her head, and exclaimed, "Leave it to me! Leave it to me.

　　"Do you know where Lapland is?" she asked the reindeer.

　　"Who knows it better than I?" the reindeer said, and his eyes sparkled. "There I was born, there I was bred, and there I kicked my heels in freedom, across the fields of snow."

　　"Listen!" the robber girl said to Gerda. "As you see, all the men are away. Mother is still here, and here shell stay, but before the morning is over she will drink out of that big bottle, and then she usually dozes off for a nap. As soon as that happens, I will do you a good turn."

　　She jumped out of bed, rushed over and threw her arms around her mothers neck, pulled at her beard bristles, and said, "Good morning, my dear nanny-goat." Her mother thumped her nose until it was red and blue, but all that was done out of pure love.

　　As soon as the mother had tipped up the bottle and dozed off to sleep, the little robber girl ran to the reindeer and said, "I have a good notion to keep you here, and tickle you with my sharp knife. You are so funny when I do, but never mind that. Ill untie your rope, and help you find your way outside, so that you can run back to Lapland. But you must put your best leg forward and carry this little girl to the Snow Queens palace, where her playmate is. I suppose you heard what she told me, for she spoke so loud, and you were eavesdropping."

　　The reindeer was so happy that he bounded into the air. The robber girl hoisted little Gerda on his back, carefully tied her in place, and even gave her a little pillow to sit on. I dont do things half way," she said. "Here, take back your fur boots, for its going to be bitter cold. Ill keep your muff, because its such a pretty one. But your fingers mustnt get cold. Here are my mothers big mittens, which will come right up to your elbows. Pull them on. Now your hands look just like my ugly mothers big paws."

　　And Gerda shed happy tears.

　　"I dont care to see you blubbering," said the little robber girl. "You ought to look pleased now. Here, take these two loaves of bread and this ham along, so that you wont starve."

　　When these provisions were tied on the back of the reindeer, the little robber girl opened the door and called in all the big dogs. Then she cut the tether with her knife and said to the reindeer, "Now run, but see that you take good care of the little girl."

　　Gerda waved her big mittens to the little robber girl, and said good-by. then the reindeer bounded away, over stumps and stones, straight through the great forest, over swamps and across the plains, as fast as he could run. The wolves howled, the ravens shrieked, and ker-shew, ker-shew! the red streaks of light ripped through the heavens, with a noise that sounded like sneezing.

　　"Those are my old Northern Lights," said the reindeer. "See how they flash." And on he ran, faster than ever, by night and day. The loaves were eaten and the whole ham was eaten-and there they were in Lapland.

　　Sixth Story

　　The Lapp Woman and the Finn Woman

　　They stopped in front of the little hut, and a makeshift dwelling it was. The roof of it almost touched the ground, and the doorway was so low that the family had to lie on their stomachs to crawl in it or out of it. No one was at home except an old Lapp woman, who was cooking fish over a whale-oil lamp. The reindeer told her Gerdas whole story, but first he told his own, which he thought was much more important. Besides, Gerda was so cold that she couldnt say a thing.

　　"Oh, you poor creatures," the Lapp woman said, "youve still got such a long way to go. Why, you will have to travel hundreds of miles into the Finmark. For its there that the Snow Queen is taking a country vacation, and burning her blue fireworks every evening. Ill jot down a message on a dried codfish, for I havent any paper. I want you to take it to the Finn woman who lives up there. She will be able to tell you more about it than I can."

　　As soon as Gerda had thawed out, and had had something to eat and drink, the Lapp woman wrote a few words on a dried codfish, told Gerda to take good care of it, and tied her again on the back of the reindeer. Off he ran, and all night long the skies crackled and swished as the most beautiful Northern Lights flashed over their heads. At last they came to the Finmark, and knocked at the Finn womans chimney, for she hadnt a sign of a door. It was so hot inside that the Finn woman went about almost naked. She was small and terribly dowdy, but she at once helped little Gerda off with her mittens and boots, and loosened her clothes. Otherwise the heat would have wilted her. Then the woman put a piece of ice on the reindeers head, and read what was written on the codfish. She read it three times and when she knew it by heart, she put the fish into the kettle of soup, for they might as well eat it. She never wasted anything.

　　The reindeer told her his own story first, and then little Gerdas. The Finn woman winked a knowing eye, but she didnt say anything.

　　"You are such a wise woman," said the reindeer, "I know that you can tie all the winds of the world together with a bit of cotton thread. If the sailor unties one knot he gets a favorable wind. If he unties another he gets a stiff gale, while if he unties the third and fourth knots such a tempest rages that it flattens the trees in the forest. Wont you give this little girl something to drink that will make her as strong as twelve men, so that she may overpower the Snow Queen?"

　　"Twelve strong men," the Finn woman sniffed. " Much good that would be."

　　She went to the shelf, took down a big rolled-up skin, and unrolled it. On this skin strange characters were written, and the Finn woman read them until the sweat rolled down her forehead.

　　The reindeer again begged her to help Gerda, and little Gerda looked at her with such tearful, imploring eyes, that the woman began winking again. She took the reindeer aside in a corner, and while she was putting another piece of ice on his head she whispered to him:

　　"Little Kay is indeed with the Snow Queen, and everything there just suits him fine. He thinks it is the best place in all the world, but thats because he has a splinter of glass in his heart and a small piece of it in his eye. Unless these can be gotten out, he will never be human again, and the Snow Queen will hold him in her power."

　　"But cant you fix little Gerda something to drink which will give her more power than all those things?"

　　"No power that I could give could be as great as that which she already has. Dont you see how men and beasts are compelled to serve her, and how far she has come in the wide world since she started out in her naked feet? We mustnt tell her about this power. Strength lies in her heart, because she is such a sweet, innocent child. If she herself cannot reach the Snow Queen and rid little Kay of those pieces of glass, then theres no help that we can give her. The Snow Queens garden lies about eight miles from here. You may carry the little girl there, and put her down by the big bush covered with red berries that grows on the snow. Then dont you stand there gossiping, but hurry to get back here."?

　　The Finn woman lifted little Gerda onto the reindeer, and he galloped away as fast as he could.

　　"Oh!" cried Gerda, "I forgot my boots and I forgot my mittens." She soon felt the need of them in that knife-like cold, but the reindeer did not dare to stop. He galloped on until they came to the big bush that was covered with red berries. Here he set Gerda down and kissed her on the mouth, while big shining tears ran down his face. Then he ran back as fast as he could. Little Gerda stood there without boots and without mittens, right in the middle of icy Finmark.

　　She ran as fast as ever she could. A whole regiment of snowflakes swirled toward her, but they did not fall from the sky, for there was not a cloud up there, and the Northern Lights were ablaze.

　　The flakes skirmished along the ground, and the nearer they came the larger they grew. Gerda remembered how large and strange they had appeared when she looked at them under the magnifying glass. But here they were much more monstrous and terrifying. They were alive. They were the Snow Queens advance guard, and their shapes were most strange. Some looked like ugly, overgrown porcupines. Some were like a knot of snakes that stuck out their heads in every direction, and others were like fat little bears with every hair a-bristle. All of them were glistening white, for all were living snowflakes.

　　It was so cold that, as little Gerda said the Lords Prayer, she could see her breath freezing in front of her mouth, like a cloud of smoke. It grew thicker and thicker, and took the shape of little angels that grew bigger and bigger the moment they touched the ground. All of them had helmets on their heads and they carried shields and lances in their hands. Rank upon rank, they increased, and when Gerda had finished her prayer she was surrounded by a legion of angels. They struck the dread snowflakes with their lances and shivered them into a thousand pieces. Little Gerda walked on, unmolested and cheerful. The angels rubbed her hands and feet to make them warmer, and she trotted briskly along to the Snow Queens palace.

　　But now let us see how little Kay was getting on. Little Gerda was furthest from his mind, and he hadnt the slightest idea that she was just outside the palace.

　　Seventh Story

　　What Happened in The Snow Queens Palace

　　and

　　What Came of it

　　The walls of the palace were driven snow. The windows and doors were the knife-edged wind. There were more than a hundred halls, shaped as the snow had drifted, and the largest of these extended for many a mile. All were lighted by the flare of the Northern Lights. All of the halls were so immense and so empty, so brilliant and so glacial! There was never a touch of gaiety in them; never so much as a little dance for the polar bears, at which the storm blast could have served for music, and the polar bears could have waddled about on their hind legs to show off their best manners. There was never a little party with such games as blind-bears buff or hide the paw-kerchief for the cubs, nor even a little afternoon coffee over which the white fox vixens could gossip. Empty, vast, and frigid were the Snow Queens halls. The Northern Lights flared with such regularity that you could time exactly when they would be at the highest and lowest. In the middle of the vast, empty hall of snow was a frozen lake. It was cracked into a thousand pieces, but each piece was shaped so exactly like the others that it seemed a work of wonderful craftsmanship. The Snow Queen sat in the exact center of it when she was at home, and she spoke of this as sitting on her "Mirror of Reason." She said this mirror was the only one of its kind, and the best thing in all the world.

　　Little Kay was blue, yes, almost black, with the cold. But he did not feel it, because the Snow Queen had kissed away his icy tremblings, and his heart itself had almost turned to ice.

　　He was shifting some sharp, flat pieces of ice to and fro, trying to fit them into every possible pattern, for he wanted to make something with them. It was like the Chinese puzzle game that we play at home, juggling little flat pieces of wood about into special designs. Kay was cleverly arranging his pieces in the game of ice-cold reason. To him the patterns were highly remarkable and of the utmost importance, for the chip of glass in his eye made him see them that way. He arranged his pieces to spell out many words; but he could never find the way to make the one word he was so eager to form. The word was "Eternity." The Snow Queen had said to him, "If you can puzzle that out you shall be your own master, and Ill give you the whole world and a new pair of skates." But he could not puzzle it out.

　　"Now I am going to make a flying trip to the warm countries," the Snow Queen told him. "I want to go and take a look into the black caldrons." She meant the volcanos of Etna and Vesuvius. "I must whiten them up a bit. They need it, and it will be such a relief after all those yellow lemons and purple grapes."

　　And away she flew. Kay sat all alone in that endless, empty, frigid hall, and puzzled over the pieces of ice until he almost cracked his skull. He sat so stiff and still that one might have thought he was frozen to death.

　　All of a sudden, little Gerda walked up to the palace through the great gate which was a knife-edged wind. But Gerda said her evening prayer. The wind was lulled to rest, and the little girl came on into the vast, cold, empty hall. Then she saw Kay. She recognized him at once, and ran to throw her arms around him. She held him close and cried, "Kay, dearest little Kay! Ive found you at last!"

　　But he sat still, and stiff, and cold. Gerda shed hot tears, and when they fell upon him they went straight to his heart. They melted the lump of ice and burned away the splinter of glass in it. He looked up at her, and she sang:

　　"Where roses bloom so sweetly in the vale,

　　There shall you find the Christ Child, without fail."

　　Kay burst into tears. He cried so freely that the little piece of glass in his eye was washed right out. "Gerda!" He knew her, and cried out in his happiness, "My sweet little Gerda, where have you been so long? And where have I been?" He looked around him and said, "How cold it is here! How enormous and empty!" He held fast to Gerda, who laughed until happy tears rolled down her cheeks. Their bliss was so heavenly that even the bits of glass danced about them and shared in their happiness. When the pieces grew tired, they dropped into a pattern which made the very word that the Snow Queen had told Kay he must find before he became his own master and received the whole world and a new pair of skates.

　　Gerda kissed his cheeks, and they turned pink again. She kissed his eyes, and they sparkled like hers. She kissed his hands and feet, and he became strong and well. The Snow Queen might come home now whenever she pleased, for there stood the order for Kays release, written in letters of shining ice.

　　Hand in hand, Kay and Gerda strolled out of that enormous palace. They talked about Grandmother, and about the roses on their roof. Wherever they went, the wind died down and the sun shone out. When they came to the bush that was covered with red berries, the reindeer was waiting to meet them. He had brought along a young reindeer mate who had warm milk for the children to drink, and who kissed them on the mouth. Then these reindeer carried Gerda and Kay first to the Finn woman. They warmed themselves in her hot room, and when she had given them directions for their journey home they rode on to the Lapp woman. She had made them new clothes, and was ready to take them along in her sleigh.

　　Side by side, the reindeer ran with them to the limits of the North country, where the first green buds were to be seen. Here they said good-by to the two reindeer and to the Lapp woman. "Farewell," they all said.

　　Now the first little birds began to chirp, and there were green buds all around them in the forest. Through the woods came riding a young girl on a magnificent horse that Gerda recognized, for it had once been harnessed to the golden carriage. The girl wore a bright red cap on her head, and a pair of pistols in her belt. She was the little robber girl, who had grown tired of staying at home, and who was setting out on a journey to the North country. If she didnt like it there, why, the world was wide, and there were many other places where she could go. She recognized Gerda at once, and Gerda knew her too. It was a happy meeting.

　　"Youre a fine one for gadding about," she told little Kay. "Id just like to know whether you deserve to have someone running to the end of the earth for your sake."

　　But Gerda patted her cheek and asked her about the Prince and the Princess.

　　"They are traveling in foreign lands," the girl told her.

　　"And the crow?"

　　"Oh, the crow is dead," she answered. "His tame ladylove is now a widow, and she wears a bit of black wool wrapped around her leg. She takes great pity on herself, but thats all stuff and nonsense. Now tell me what has happened to you and how you caught up with Kay."

　　Gerda and Kay told her their story.

　　"Snip snap snurre, basse lurre," said the robber girl. "So everything came out all right." She shook them by the hand, and promised that if ever she passed through their town she would come to see them. And then she rode away.

　　Kay and Gerda held each other by the hand. And as they walked along they had wonderful spring weather. The land was green and strewn with flowers, church bells rang, and they saw the high steeples of a big town. It was the one where they used to live. They walked straight to Grandmothers house, and up the stairs, and into the room, where everything was just as it was when they left it. And the clock said tick-tock, and its hands were telling the time. But the moment they came in the door they noticed one change. They were grown-up now.

　　The roses on the roof looked in at the open window, and their two little stools were still out there. Kay and Gerda sat down on them, and held each other by the hand. Both of them had forgotten the icy, empty splendor of the Snow Queens palace as completely as if it were some bad dream. Grandmother sat in Gods good sunshine, reading to them from her Bible:

　　"Except ye become as little children, ye shall not enter into the Kingdom of Heaven."

　　Kay and Gerda looked into each others eyes, and at last they understood the meaning of their old hymn:

　　"Where roses bloom so sweetly in the vale,

　　There shall you find the Christ Child, without fail."

　　And they sat there, grown-up, but children still-children at heart. And it was summer, warm, glorious summer.

　　作品原文

　　從前有一個(gè)世界上最壞的家伙，叫作"魔鬼"，他做出了一面顛倒黑白的鏡子，明明是美麗的東西，在這鏡子前一照，結(jié)果就變成最丑陋的東西。魔鬼提著鏡子到處宣傳，結(jié)果強(qiáng)盜變成英雄，妖女變美人，丑蛤蟆當(dāng)上國(guó)王，善良變罪犯……世界就讓這個(gè)魔鬼給歪曲了。

　　魔鬼非常得意，想要帶著鏡子去把上帝變小丑，天使變怪物，當(dāng)他快要飛到天國(guó)的時(shí)候，鏡子竟怪笑起來(lái)，魔鬼控制不了，那面鏡子就從魔鬼手上掉下來(lái)，摔成無(wú)數(shù)個(gè)碎片，滿世界亂飛，黏在每一個(gè)它們碰到的東西上. 　就這樣，鏡子的碎片飛到人的眼睛里，這個(gè)人就看什么都不順眼，有的碎片還鉆進(jìn)人的心里，他的心立刻就便成冰塊，變得毫無(wú)感情，冷冰冰的，有些碎片甚至被做成眼鏡，人們戴上后明亮的東西就便變得黑暗。

　　在一個(gè)大城市里，有一個(gè)男孩叫加伊，一個(gè)女孩叫格爾達(dá)，他們的家連在一起，是非常要好的朋友，在冬天雪花飛舞時(shí)的一個(gè)晚上，加伊忽然看見(jiàn)窗外有一片很大的雪花飄落在橋上，越變?cè)酱�，最后竟變成了一個(gè)女人，她披著白雪披紗，身體發(fā)出閃耀的光亮，兩眼也閃閃發(fā)光，她向加伊招手，加伊趕緊低下頭，心里很害怕，這時(shí)，她就飛走了，待冬天過(guò)去后，某天加伊去找格爾達(dá)，兩個(gè)人一起看畫(huà)冊(cè)時(shí)，外面的鐘聲響起來(lái)，加伊就把頭伸出窗口，隨風(fēng)飛揚(yáng)的鏡子碎片就掉進(jìn)他的眼里，鉆到他的心里，善良的加伊立刻變成了無(wú)情的人，他的心變成冰塊了，從此他再也不跟格爾達(dá)好了，而且還常常欺負(fù)譏笑她。

　　又一個(gè)下著雪的冬天到來(lái)了，可憐的格爾達(dá)因?yàn)榧右敛焕硭�而在家里傷心的哭泣，而加伊則是背著雪橇去廣場(chǎng)上滑雪，這時(shí)，一架大雪橇滑過(guò)加伊的身邊，大雪橇上的人對(duì)加伊笑，原來(lái)她就是那晚全身閃著白光，非常有名的冰雪皇后。她的皮帽皮靴全是用白雪做的，冰雪皇后對(duì)加伊說(shuō)：“來(lái)吧！到我的皮衣里暖和暖和�！奔右零@進(jìn)了冰雪皇后的皮大衣里，她在加伊的頭上吻了一下說(shuō)：“現(xiàn)在你不冷了吧？”他感到冰雪皇后的吻像一塊冰放在他的心里，于是他就把所有事情都忘記了。冰雪皇后讓他坐在大雪橇上，帶著他一起飛向天空。

　　春天到了，加伊跟著冰雪皇后走了，大家認(rèn)為他可能已經(jīng)死了，格爾達(dá)也這樣想，所以哭得更傷心了，可是燕子和太陽(yáng)認(rèn)為加伊只是到遠(yuǎn)方了，可能沒(méi)有死，于是，一天早晨，格爾達(dá)穿上她最心愛(ài)的紅鞋，決定出發(fā)去找加伊，她來(lái)到城邊，坐在小船上，她把紅鞋扔到河中心送給小河，要小河帶她去找加伊，不久，小船把她帶到一個(gè)很大的櫻桃園，有一間茅草屋頂?shù)姆孔樱�里面住著一個(gè)長(zhǎng)得很古怪的老巫婆，格爾達(dá)把尋找加伊的事告訴老巫婆，巫婆要格爾達(dá)不要太傷心，并收留她住幾天，第二天，巫婆希望格爾達(dá)不要太傷心，所以施了魔法讓她把所有事都忘記了。

　　一天，格爾達(dá)看見(jiàn)巫婆帽子上的玫瑰花，想起了她曾跟加伊說(shuō)過(guò)要親手編織玫瑰花禮帽送給他的事，于是她去問(wèn)花園里的玫瑰花，知不知到加伊在哪？玫瑰說(shuō)不知道，可是它確定加伊沒(méi)有死，因?yàn)樗�并沒(méi)有被埋在土地下，格爾達(dá)決定逃離櫻桃園，當(dāng)她逃出來(lái)時(shí)，發(fā)現(xiàn)已經(jīng)是秋天了，她連鞋都沒(méi)穿，感到腳很痛，但是她還是要快去找加伊。

　　冬天的大雪已有半尺厚，格爾達(dá)又冷又累，此時(shí)遇見(jiàn)一只烏鴉，于是她問(wèn)烏鴉知不知到加伊的下落。烏鴉告訴她說(shuō)：“加伊因?yàn)榇饘?duì)了王宮公主的征婚問(wèn)題，所以舉辦了盛大的婚禮，現(xiàn)在已是王子了�！庇谑歉駹栠_(dá)要烏鴉帶她去王宮里面，結(jié)果發(fā)現(xiàn)王子不是加伊。公主因?yàn)橥�情格爾達(dá)，所以送給她用金子做的馬車(chē)，一雙厚手套，還有車(chē)夫及一隊(duì)隨從，格爾達(dá)坐著馬車(chē)，穿過(guò)濃密的樹(shù)林時(shí)，躲藏在巖石后面的強(qiáng)盜發(fā)現(xiàn)了金馬車(chē)， 他們打敗了所有人，強(qiáng)盜的頭頭是個(gè)又高又胖的女強(qiáng)盜，正當(dāng)她想殺了格爾達(dá)時(shí)，女強(qiáng)盜小女兒的求情饒了格爾達(dá)一命。

　　所以她們就一起坐上馬車(chē)，朝強(qiáng)盜的山洞駛?cè)�，山洞里有一百只鴿子棲息在木板上，山洞頂上掛著兩個(gè)鳥(niǎo)籠，里面關(guān)著兩對(duì)花斑鳩，靠洞角外有一只大馴鹿，格爾達(dá)跟小女孩說(shuō)了尋找加伊的事，第二天，小女兒心想要怎樣說(shuō)服強(qiáng)盜，讓格爾達(dá)去找加伊，這時(shí)，有一只花斑鳩忽然說(shuō)：“咕咕，我知道加伊在什么地方，我看見(jiàn)加伊坐在冰雪皇后的雪橇上，往北邊飛去，大概在北冰洋的島上了�！毙∨�孩和格爾達(dá)就去問(wèn)馴鹿如何去那里，馴鹿說(shuō)：“要到冰雪皇后的宮殿去，必須先到拉普蘭德。”于是小女孩讓強(qiáng)盜們喝醉了，又拿了兩塊面包和一大塊火腿給格爾達(dá)，要她坐在馴鹿上快逃走，馴鹿在冰天雪地里奔馳，遠(yuǎn)處的北極光發(fā)出閃電一樣的藍(lán)色火焰，糧食吃完了就到了拉普蘭德。

　　格爾達(dá)和馴鹿來(lái)到了一間小屋子前停下來(lái)，小屋子有一個(gè)老婆婆，馴鹿把格爾達(dá)的事說(shuō)給她聽(tīng)，她要他們倆吃點(diǎn)東西，因?yàn)橐�到冰雪皇后的宮殿，還要走一千五百多里路，那里有一個(gè)叫芬馬克的地方，冰雪皇后正在那休假，她每天都要放射出極光的藍(lán)色火焰，馴鹿出發(fā)前，老婆婆拿出一捆干鱈魚(yú)卷，在上面寫(xiě)了一些字，把它捆在馴鹿的背上，他們就揮別了老婆婆，不久就到了芬馬克，來(lái)到了芬蘭女人的家里，她的屋子里非常熱，女人打開(kāi)鱈魚(yú)卷讀完后，就把鱈魚(yú)干煮來(lái)吃了，格爾達(dá)問(wèn)女人知不知道加伊的下落。女人說(shuō)：“加伊在冰雪皇后的宮殿里，因?yàn)樗�心里有一塊鏡子的碎片，眼里也有碎片渣的緣故，所以看什么都不順眼，只有取出碎片，他才能成為一個(gè)真正的人，不然他就只能永遠(yuǎn)待在冰雪皇后的宮殿里，你有一顆孩子天真善良的心，這就是你的力量，從這到宮殿只有六里路，快讓馴鹿帶你去吧！”馴鹿把格爾達(dá)帶到雪地里的一叢灌木旁，就讓格爾達(dá)自己往前走了，格爾達(dá)站在寒風(fēng)呼嘯的曠野里，雪花不停地向她撲來(lái)，奇形怪狀地向她進(jìn)攻，因?yàn)樗鼈兪潜�雪皇后的�?zhàn)士，正在守衛(wèi)宮殿，格爾達(dá)的精神感動(dòng)了上帝，上帝就派天使安琪兒幫她打敗那些雪花戰(zhàn)士們。

　　冰雪皇后的宮殿非常寬大，所有東西都是冰雪做成的，像透明的玻璃一樣閃閃發(fā)亮，大廳里有一個(gè)結(jié)冰的湖，這就是世界上的理智之湖，冰雪皇后坐在中間，觀察世界上所發(fā)生的一切事情。

　　加伊在離皇后不遠(yuǎn)的地方玩七巧板，他的臉已經(jīng)被凍得發(fā)出青黑的顏色，冰雪皇后對(duì)加伊說(shuō)：“如果可以拼出‘永恒’兩個(gè)字，你就是自己真正的主人，你就自由了�！闭f(shuō)完話，冰雪皇后就飛走了，要趕著去替火山降溫，格爾達(dá)走進(jìn)宮里認(rèn)出加伊，格爾達(dá)非常高興地?fù)溥^(guò)去，可是加伊卻冷冰冰沒(méi)有任何反應(yīng)，格爾達(dá)傷心地哭了起來(lái)，她的眼淚像流不盡的溫泉，流進(jìn)加伊的心里，直到把心里的鏡子碎片都融化掉，這時(shí)加伊的眼睛活動(dòng)起來(lái)，開(kāi)始望著格爾達(dá)，格爾達(dá)于是唱起從前加伊最?lèi)?ài)聽(tīng)的歌：“當(dāng)玫瑰花開(kāi)時(shí)，我們見(jiàn)到了上帝�！奔右谅�(tīng)到歌聲，忽然大哭起來(lái)，熱淚也融出了在他眼里的碎片渣，他終于認(rèn)出格爾達(dá)，他們緊緊擁抱著，連四周的冰塊也為他們跳起歡的舞，當(dāng)他們疲倦躺下時(shí)，兩人剛好形成了“永恒”的圖案。加伊現(xiàn)在自由了，他挽起格爾達(dá)的手，一起走出冰雪皇后的宮殿，發(fā)現(xiàn)馴鹿正等著他們，馴鹿帶他們到芬蘭女人的家中，然后又到拉普蘭德的老婆婆那，她已經(jīng)為他們準(zhǔn)備了新衣服和新雪橇，他們帶著感謝告別了老婆婆，開(kāi)始回家了。

　　春天來(lái)了，格爾達(dá)和加伊回到家，他們手拉手，一起坐在小橋上，感到非常幸福。

　　創(chuàng)作背景

　　《白雪皇后》被安徒生稱為七個(gè)小故事的故事，或是“心靈的冰之謎”，這個(gè)絕妙的詞取自并且指的是諾瓦利斯未完成的虛幻小說(shuō)《亨利希·馮·奧夫特丁根》。

　　作者簡(jiǎn)介

　　漢斯·克里斯蒂安·安徒生（1805.4.2～1875.8.4）出生于丹麥富恩島奧登塞小鎮(zhèn)，自幼家貧，父親是一名鞋匠，母親是一名洗衣婦。他11歲時(shí)父親逝世，生活更加困頓，14歲時(shí)告別家鄉(xiāng)到哥本哈根，決心當(dāng)一個(gè)藝術(shù)家，然而事與愿違。17歲發(fā)表作品《嘗試集》，24歲出版長(zhǎng)篇幻想游記《阿馬格島漫游記》，第一版銷(xiāo)售一空，原本在饑餓中掙扎的安徒生從此擺脫貧困。1831年，他開(kāi)始跨越歐洲的旅行，并終其一生都保持了一個(gè)旅行者的熱情。1835年，安徒生完成了以意大利為背景的《即興詩(shī)人》，在隨后的幾十年間安徒生致力于童話創(chuàng)作，一生創(chuàng)作了《海的女兒》、《皇帝的新裝》、《丑小鴨》等160多篇童話作品。

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