小學英語英語故事（童話故事）The Metal Pig銅豬

TheMetalPig銅豬

InthecityofFlorence,notfarfromthePiazzadelGranduca,thereisalittle

crossstreetwhichIthinkiscalledPortaRossa.Infrontofasortofmarketin

thisstreet,wherevegetablesaresold,standsanartificialbutbeautifully

fashionedmetalpig.AfountainoffreshclearwatergushesoutoftheanimaTsmouth.

Agehasturneditdarkgreen;onlyitssnoutshinesasifithadbeenpolished,and

soithasbythemanyhundredsofchildrenandpoorpeoplewhotakeholdofitwith

theirhandswhentheyputtheirmouthstoitsmouthtodrinkthewater.Itisan

interestingpicturetoseetheperfectlyformedanimalembracedbyahandsome,

half-nakedboyputtinghisyounglipstoitssnout.

EveryonewhogoestoFlorencesurelyfindstheplace;youonlyhavetoaskthefirst

beggaryouseeaboutthemetalpig,andhewi11finditforyou.

Lateonewintereveningthemountainswerecoveredwithsnow,butitwasmoonlight,

andinItalythemoongivesasbrightalightasonadarkwinter,sdayinthenorth.

Yes,itisevenbrighter,fortheclearairseemstoshineandtoliftusabovethe

earth,whileinthenorththecold,grayleadenroofpressesustotheground,the

samecold,wetgroundwhichonedaywillpressonourcoffins.

IntheDuke,spalacegarden,alittleraggedboyhadbeensittingalldayunderthe

stonepines,wherethousandsofrosesbloominthewinter,aboywhomighthavestood

forapictureofItaly,sopretty,solaughing,andyetsosuffering.Althoughhungry

andthirsty,hegotapennyfromnoone,andwhenitgrewdarkandtimetoclose

thegardens,theporterdrovehimaway.Foralongtimehestooddreamingonthe

bridgeovertheRiverArno,lookingatthereflectionsoftheglitteringstarsin

thewaterbeneaththestatelymarblebridge.Thenhemadehiswaytothemetalpig,

kneltbeforeit,threwhisarmsarounditsneck,puthislittlemouthtoitsshining

snout,anddrankgreatdraughtsoffreshwater.Nearbylayafewsaladleavesand

acoupleofchestnuts,andtheseformedhissupper.Therewasnolivingsoulinthe

street;hewasallalone;heclimedontothemetalpig'sback,leanedforwardso

thathislittlecurlyheadrestedontheanimal'shead,andbeforeheknewwhatwas

happeninghehadfallenfastasleep.

Itwasmidnight.Themetalpigmoved.Theboyhearditsayquiteplainly,“Holdfast,

littleboy,fornowI'mgoingtorunoff!”Andawayitranwithhim!

Itwasastrangeride.FirsttheyreachedthePiazzadelGranduca,andthebronze

horseonwhichtheDuke'sstatuewasmountedneighedloudlytothem.Thecolored

coatsofarmsontheoldTownHallglowedliketransparentpictures,and

Michelangelo'sDavidhurledhissling;itwasacuriousformoflifethatmovedabout.

ThebronzegroupsofPerseusandtheRapeoftheSabineWomenwereonlytoomuch

alive;theirdeathshriekresoundedthroughthestatelydesertedPiazza.Themetal

pigstoppedbytheUffiziPalace,underthearcadewherethenoblesassembledfor

thecarnivalcelebrationduringLent.

“Holdfast,，zsaidtheanimal."Holdfastnow,forVmgoingupthestairs!”

Thelittlefellowhadn*tyetsaidaword;hewashalffrightened,halfdelighted.

Theyenteredalonggallery,whichheknewwell,forhehadbeentherebefore.The

wallswerecoveredwithpictures,andthestatuesandbustsallstoodinalight

asbrightasifitwereday;butthemostsplendidsightofallwaswhenthedoor

tooneoftheadjoiningroomsopened.Yes,thesplendorherethelittleboyremembered,

buttonighteverythingwasespeciallymagnificent.

Herestoodthestatueofanudewoman,asbeautifulasonlynatureandthegreatest

marblesculptorcouldmakeher;shemovedherlovelylimbs,dolphinssprangtolife

atherfeet,andimmortalityshonefromhereyes.Sheisknowntotheworldasthe

Venusde'Medici.Marblestatuesofsuperbmenweregroupedaroundher;oneofthem,

theGrinder,wassharpeninghissword;thenextgroupwastheWrestlingGladiators.

Theswordwaswhetted,andtheathleteswrestledforthegoddessofbeauty.

Theboywasdazzledbythemagnificence;thewallswereradiantwithcolor,and

everythingtherehadlifeandmovement.ThepictureofVenus,theearthlyVenus,

impassionedandglowinglife,asTitiansawher,shoneinredoubledsplendor.Near

herweretheportraitsoftwolovelywomen,recliningonsoftcushions,with

beautiful,unveiledlimbs,heavingbosoms,andluxuriantlocksfallingoverrounded

shoulders,whiletheirdarkeyesbetrayedpassionatethoughts.Butnoneofthese

picturesdaredtostepforthfromtheirframes.Thegoddessofbeautyherself,the

Gladiators,andtheGrinderremainedontheirpedestals,subduedbythehaloaround

theMadonna,withtheinfantsJesusandSt.John.Theholypictureswerenolonger

justpictures;theywerethesaintsthemselves.

Whatbrillianceandbeautyastheypassedfromgallerytogallery!Andthelittle

boysaweverything,forthemetalpigwentstepbysteppastallthisgloryand

magnitude.Eachsightcrowdedoutthepreviousone;onlyonepicturereallytook

holdofhisthoughts,andthatwaschieflybecauseofthehappychildreninit;once

duringthedaytimethelittleboyhadnoddedtothem.

Manyprobablypassthispictureunnoticing,yetitcontainstheessenceofpoetry.

ItisChristdescendingtoHell,butHeisnotsurroundedbysoulsintorment;no,

theseareheathen.ThepaintingisbytheFlorentineAgnoloBronzino.Theexpression

ofthechildren，sfacesismostbeautifulintheircertaintythattheyaregoing

toHeaven.Twolittleonesarealreadyembracingeachother;onestretchesahand

outtoacompanionbelow,andpointstohimselfasiftosay,amgoingtoHeaven!”

Alltheolderpeoplestandarounddoubting,orhoping,orhumblybowinginprayer

totheLordJesus.

Theboygazedlongeratthispicturethanatanyoftheothers;andasthemetal

pigrestedquietlybeforeit,agentlesighwasheard.Diditcomefromthepicture,

orfromthebreastoftheanimal?Theboystretchedouthisownhandtowardthesmiling

children;andthentheanimalgallopedoffwithhim,gallopedawaythroughthelong

gallery.

“Thankyou,andblessyou,youbeautifulanimal!saidthelittleboy,pattingthe

pigasitwentbump,bump,bumpdownthestairswithhim.

“Thankyou,andblessingstoyou,too!”saidthemetalpig.Tvehelpedyou,but

you'vehelpedme,becauseIonlyhavethestrengthtorunwhenI'mcarryingan

innocentchildonmyback!Yousee,nowIevendarestepundertheraysofthelamp

beforetheMadonnapicture.Icancarryyouanywhereexceptintoachurch,butas

longasyou'rewithmeIcanstandoutsideandlookinthroughtheopendoor.Don，t

getdownoffmyback!IfyoudoIshal1bedead,justasyouseemeeverydayin

thePortaRossa!z，

〃I'11staywithyou,myblessedanimal,〃saidthelittleboy,andthentheyrushed

atadizzypacethroughthestreetsofFlorencetothechurchofSantaCroceinthe

Piazza.Thegreatfoldingdoorswungopen,andthealtar1ightsstreamedthrough

thechurchandoutintothedesertedPiazza.

Astrangelightblazedfromasculpturedtombintheleftaisle;thousandsof

twinklingstarsformedasortahaloaroundit.Thetombwassurmountedbyacoat

ofarms,aredladderonblueground,gleaminglikefire.ThiswasthetombofGalileo.

Itisasimplemonument;buttheredladderonthebluegroundisasymbolofArt,

meaningthatthepathwaytofameisalwaysupwardonaflamingladder.Allgenius

soarstoHeavenliketheprophetElijah.

Everystatueonthecostlysarcophagusintherightaisleofthechurchseemedendowed

withlife.HerewereMichelangeloandDante,withthelaurelwreathonhisbrow;

AlfieriandMacchiavellirestedheresidebyside-theprideofItaly.Itisavery

beautifulchurch,farmorebeautifulthan,althoughnotaslargeas,themarble

CathedralofFlorence.

Itseemedasifthemarbleraimentmoved,asifthosegreatfiguresoncemoreraised

theirheadsinthenight,midsongandmusic,andgazedtowardthealtarglowing

withmanylights,wherethewhite-robedaltarboysswungthegoldencensers,while

thefragranceofincensefilledthechurchandstreamedoutintotheopensquare.

Theboystretchedhishandstowardthelights,butatthatmomentthemetalpig

gallopedonagain,andhehadtoholdtightly.Thewindwhistledinhisears,and

heheardthechurchdoorcreakonitshingesasitclosed.Butimmediatelyheseemed

toloseconsciousness,andfeltanicycoldness-andthenopenedhiseyes.

Itwasmorning,andhehadhalfslippedfromthemetalpig,whichstoodinitsusual

placeinthePortaRossa.Frightandterrorseizedtheboyashethoughtofthewoman

hecalledmother.Yesterdayshehadsenthimouttogetmoney,andhehadnone;he

washungryandthirsty.Oncemoreheflunghisarmsaroundthemetalpig'sneck,

kisseditssnout,noddedtoit,andwalkedofftooneofthenarroweststreets,which

wasonlywideenoughforaheavilyladenass.Abigiron-studdeddoorstoodhalf

open;heentereditandmountedabrickstaircase,withdirtywallsandagreasy

ropeforahandrail,untilhereachedanopengalleryhungwithrags.Aflightof

stepsledintoacourtyardwithafountain,fromwhichwaterwasdrawnuptothe

differentfloorsbymeansofathickironwire,withbucketshungsidebyside.

Sometimesthepulleyjerked,andthebucketsdancedintheairandsplashedwater

alloverthecourtyard.Anotherdilapidatedbrickstaircaseledstillhigher,and

twosailors,whowereRussians,ranmerrilydownandalmostupsetthepoorboy.A

stronglybuiltwomanwiththickblackhair,thoughnolongeryoung,followedthem.

/，Whathaveyoubroughthome?”shesaidtotheboy.

〃Don'tbeangry!，zhebegged,catchingholdofherdressasiftokissit.〃Ihaven't

gotanythingatall!Nothingatall!”

Theypassedonintoaninnerroom.Weneednotdescribeit,butwillonlysaythat

initwasanearthenpot,withhandlesforholdingcharcoal,calleda"marito.〃She

hungthisonherarmtowarmherfingers,andpushedtheboyawayfromherwithher

elbow.〃0fcourseyouhavesomemoney!”shesaid.

Thechildbegantosob,andshekickedhimwithherfoot,makinghimcrymoreloudly.

Z/Willyoubequiet,orI'11breakyouryellinghead!”shesaidandswungthepot

whichsheheldinherhand.Theboyduckedtothegroundandscreamed.

Thenaneighborwomancamein,alsowithhermaritoonherarm."Felicita!”shesaid.

〃Whatareyoudoingtothatchild?”

“Thechildismine!”repliedFelicita."AndIcanmurderhimifIwantto,andyou

too,Giannina!”

Andsheswungherfirepotagain.Theotherwomanraisedherstoparrytheblow,

andthetwopotsclashedtogether,smashingtobitsandscatteringfireandashes

allovertheroom.

Buttheboybythattimewasoutofthedoor,acrossthecourtyard,andoutofthe

house.Thepoorchildranuntilhehadnobreathleft.Atlasthestoppedbefore

thechurchofSantaCroce,whosegreatdoorhadopenedtohimlastnight,andhe

wentinside.Everythingtherewasbright.Hekneltbythefirsttomb,thesepulcher

ofMichelangelo,andbegantocryloudly.Peoplepassedtoandfro;Masswas

celebrated;yet,nobodypaidattentiontotheboyexceptoneelderlycitizen,who

pausedandlookedathimforamoment,thenpassedonliketherest.Thepoorchild

becamefaintandil1,overcomewithhungerandthirst.Atlasthecreptintoacorner

behindthemarblemonumentandfellasleep.

Towardeveninghewasawakenedbysomeoneshakinghim,andwhenhestarteduphe

sawthesameelderlycitizenstandingbeforehim."Areyouill?Whereisyourhome?

Haveyoubeenhereallday?”weresomeofthequestionstheoldmanaskedhim.

Heansweredthem,andtheoldmantookhimwithhimtoalittlehouseinanear-by

sidestreet.Itwasaglovemaker，sshoptheyentered,andtheretheyfoundawoman

sittingbusilysewing.Alittlewhitepoodle,socloselyclippedthatonecouldsee

herpinkskin,jumpedonthetableandbouncedtowardthelittleboy.

“Theinnocentsoulssoonmakefriendswitheachother!，zsaidthewoman,pattingboth

theboyanddog.

Thesegoodpeoplegavetheboysomethingtoeatanddrink,andtoldhimhecould

spendthenightthere.NextmorningFatherGiuseppewouldgotospeaktohismother.

Hehadonlyahomelylittlebedthatnight,butitwasaroyalcouchtotheboywho

hadsooftensleptonhardstonefloors,andhesleptsoundlyanddreamedaboutthe

splendidpicturesandthemetalpig.

ThenextmorningFatherGiuseppewentout,andthepoorboywassorrytoseehim

go,forheknewthathehadgonetohismother,andthattheboyhimselfmighthave

toreturnhome.Hewept,andkissedthelivelylittledog,whilethewomannodded

atthemboth.

AndwhatmessagedidFatherGiuseppebringback?Hetalkedtohiswifeforalong

time,andshenoddedandcaressedtheboy.

“He'sabeautifulchild,“shesaid,〃andhe，11beacleverglovemaker,justlike

you.Lookathisfingers,sodelicateandflexible!Madonnaintendedhimtobea

glovemaker!

Andsothelittleboystayedinthathouse,andthewomantaughthimtosew;hehad

plentytoeatandgotplentyofsleep,liebecamequitegay,andonedayhebegan

toteaseBellissima,asthelittledogwascalled.Thisangeredthewoman;shescolded

himandshookherfingerathim,andtheboytookittoheart.Hesatthoughtful

inhislittleroom,whichfacedthestreet,withthickironbarsoutsideitswindows,

fortheskinswerehunguptheretodry.Thatnighthecouldn，tsleep,forhishead

wasfullofthemetalpig.Suddenlyhehearda"scramble,scramble!，zoutside;yes,

thatmustbethemetalpig.lierushedtothewindow,buttherewasnothingtosee.

“Helpthesignorcarryhiscolorbox,“saidthemistressnextmorningwhentheir

youngneighbor,thepainter,camedowncarryinghiscolorboxandahugerollof

canvas.ThechiIdatoncetookuptheboxandfollowedtheartist.

Theymadetheirwaytothepicturegallery,andclimbedthestairsthathecould

remembersowellfromthenightherodethemetalpig.Herememberedallthestatues,

thebeautifulmarbleVenus,andthepaintedpicturestoo.Againhegazedatthe

Madonna,withSt.JohnandtheinfantJesus.TheystoppedbeforetheBronzinopicture

ofChriststandingintheunderworldwiththechildrenaroundHim,smilingintheir

sweetcertaintyofheaven.Thepoorboysmiledtoo,forhewasinhisownheaven.

“Nowyoumaygohome,〃thepaintersaidtohimwhenthechildstillremainedafter

hiseaselwassetup.

“Can'tIstaytowatchthesignorpaint?”saidtheboy."Can'tIseeyouputthe

pictureonthewhitecanvas?”

〃I'mnotpaintingjustyet,〃answeredtheartistashetookoutapieceofcharcoal.

Hishandmovedswiftlyashiseyerapidlymeasuredthegreatpicture;thoughhemade

onlyafewlightstrokes,thefigureofChriststoodthere,justasinthecolored

painting.

“Youmustgonow,〃saidthepainter.

Thentheboywanderedquietlyhome,satdownonthetable,andresumedlearningto

sewgloves.Butalldayhisthoughtswereinthegallery,sohewasawkwardandpricked

hisfingers;buthedidn'tteaseBellissima.Wheneveningcamehefoundthehouse

dooropen,andcreptout;itwascold,butbrightstarlight,beautifulandclear.

Hewanderedthroughthestreets,whereeverythingwasquiet,untilhefoundhimself

atthemetalpig;thenhebentoverit,kisseditsshiningsnout,andseatedhimself

onitsback.

“Youblessedcreature!hesaid.〃HowI'velongedforyou!Wemusthaveanotherride

tonight!〃

Butthepigremainedlifeless;onlythefreshwaterspoutedfromitsmouth.Thelittle

boywasstillsittingastrideitwhenhefeltsomethingtugathistrouserleg.He

lookeddownandsawtheclipped,naked,littleBellissima!Thedoghadcreptout

ofthehouseandfollowedtheboywithouthisnoticing.Bellissimabarked,asif

tryingtosay,“Whatareyousittinguptherefor?Can'tyouseeI'mwithyou?”

Afire-breathingdragoncouldn，thavefrightenedtheboymorethanthelittledog

atthatspot."Bellissimaoutinthestreetsandnotdressed!”Astheoldladywould

say,“Whatwillcomeofthat?”

Forthedogneverwentoutinthewinterwithoutalittlesheepskincoat,especially

cutandsewedforit.Theskincouldbefastenedaroundtheneckandbodywitha

redribbonanddecoratedwithlittleredbowsandjinglingbells.Whenthedogwent

outinthewinter,trippingalongbehinditsmistress,itlookedalmostlikealittle

kid.Now,hereitwasoutinthecoldwithoutthecoat-whatwou1dbetheconsequences?

Allhisfanciesquicklyfled,yethedidstoptokissthepigbeforeclimbingdown

andtakingBellissimainhisarms.Thedogshiveredwithcold,sotheboyranas

fastashecould.

/zWhatareyourunningawaywiththere?demandedtwogendarmeswhostoppedhim,while

Bellissimabarked.zzWheredidyoustealthatbeautifuldog?〃theyasked,asthey

tookitawayfromhim.

〃0h,pleasegiveherbacktome!z，criedtheboy.

〃Ifyoudidn'tstealit,youcantellyourpeopleathomethattheycangetitat

thepolicestation.zzTheygavehimtheaddress,andofftheywentwithBellissima.

Thiswasaterriblestateofaffairs!Hecouldn'tdecidewhethertojumpintothe

Arnoorgohomeandconfesseverything.Theywouldsurelykillhim,hethought."But

Iwouldgladlybekilled;Iwilldie,andthengotoJesusandtheMadonna!/zSohe

hurriedhome,almosthopingtobekilled.

Thedoorwaslocked;hecouldn，treachtheknocker,andtherewasnooneinthestreet

tohelphim.Butaloosestonelaynexttohim,andpickingitup,hehammeredon

thedoorwithit."Who'sthat?”saidavoicefrominside.

〃It'sI!〃hesaid."AndBellissimaislost!Letmein,andthenkillme!”

Thiswasfrighteningindeed,especiallytohismistress,whowassofondof

Bellissima.Shequicklylookedatthewalltoseeifthedog'scoathunginitsplace,

andtherethelittlesheepskinwas.

“Bellissimaatthepolicestation!shecriedloudly."Youwickedchild!Whydid

youtakeherout?She'lldieofcold!Thatdelicatelittleanimalamongallthose

bigroughsoldiers.

AndFatherGiuseppehadtorushoffatonce.Hiswifewailed,andtheboywept.

Everyoneinthehousecametoseewhatwasgoingon,includingthepainter.Hetook

theboyonhiskneeandquestionedhim,andgraduallyhelearnedthewholestory

ofthemetalpigandthepicturegallery.Itwasn'teasytounderstand,butthe

paintercomfortedthechildandcalmedthewoman,thoughshewasn,thappyuntil

GiuseppereturnedwithBellissima,whohadbeenamongthesoldiers.Thentherewas

greatrejoicing,andthepainterpattedthepoorboyonthehead,andgavehimsome

pictures.

Oh,theseweresplendid.Therewerecomicalheads,butmostimportantofall,the

metalpighimself!Nothingcouldhavebeenmorewonderful!Itwassketchedinonly

afewstrokes,buteventhehousebehinditappearedclearly.

〃0h,ifIcouldonlydrawandpaint!I'dhavethewholeworldbeforeme!〃

Thenextday,inthefirstlonelymomenthehad,thelittleboyfoundapenciland,

onthewhitesideofoneofthepictures,triedtocopythedrawingofthemetal

pig,andhesucceeded!Itwasalittlecrooked,alittleone-sided,withoneleg

thickandtheotherthin,butitwasrecognizable,anditdelightedhim.Thepencil

wouldn，tgoasstraightasitshould,herealized.Nextdayanotherpigstoodbeside

thefirstone,andthiswasahundredtimesbetter;andthethirdonewassogood

anyonecouldtellwhatitrepresented.

Buttheglovemakingwentbadly,andheranerrandsslowly;forhehadlearnedfrom

themetalpigthatanypicturemaybeputonpaper,andthecityofFlorenceisa

completepicturebook,ifyouonlyturntheleaves.

InthePiazzadellaTrinitastandsaslendercolumn,andontopofitstandsthe

blindfoldedGoddessofJusticewiththescalesinherhand.Soonshealsostoodon

paper,anditwasthelittleapprenticeglovemakerwhoputherthere.U