小学英语安徒生童话系列（四）TheMetalPig阅读素材.docx

theMetalPigbyHansChristianAndersen（1842）INthecityofFlorence，notfarfromthePiazzadelGranduca，runsalittlestreetcalledPortaRosa.Inthisstreet，justinfrontofthemarket-placewherevegetablesaresold，standsapig，madeofbrassandcuriouslyformed.ThebrightcolorhasbeenchangedbyagetodarkGREen；butclear，freshwaterpoursfromthesnout，whichshinesasifithadbeenpolished，andsoindeedithas，forhundredsofpoorpeopleandchildrenseizeitintheirhandsastheyplacetheirmouthsclosetothemouthoftheanimal，todrink.Itisquiteapicturetoseeahalf-nakedboyclaspingthewell-formedcreaturebythehead，ashepresseshisrosylipsagainstitsjaws.EveryonewhovisitsFlorencecanveryquicklyfindtheplace；hehasonlytoaskthefirstbeggarhemeetsfortheMetalPig，andhewillbetoldwhereitis.Itwaslateonawinterevening；themountainswerecoveredwithsnow，butthemoonshonebrightly，andmoonlightinItalyislikeadullwintersdayinthenorth；indeeditisbetter，forclearairseemstoraiseusabovetheearth，whileinthenorthacold，gray，leadenskyappearstopressusdowntoearth，evenasthecolddampearthshallonedaypressonusinthegrave.Inthegardenofthegranddukespalace，undertheroofofoneofthewings，whereathousandrosesbloominwinter，alittleraggedboyhadbeensittingthewholedaylong；aboy，whomightserveasatypeofItaly，lovelyandsmiling，andyetstillsuffering.Hewashungryandthirsty，yetnoonegavehimanything；andwhenitbecamedark，andtheywereabouttoclosethegardens，theporterturnedhimout.HestoodalongtimemusingonthebridgewhichcrossestheArno，andlookingattheglitteringstars，reflectedinthewaterwhichflowedbetweenhimandtheelegantmarblebridgeDellaTrinita.HethenwalkedawaytowardstheMetalPig，halfkneltdown，claspeditwithhisarms，andthenputhismouthtotheshiningsnoutanddrankdeepdraughtsofthefreshwater.Closeby，layafewsalad-leavesandtwochestnuts，whichweretoserveforhissupper.Noonewasinthestreetbuthimself；itbelongedonlytohim，soheboldlyseatedhimselfonthepigsback，leanedforwardsothathiscurlyheadcouldrestontheheadoftheanimal，and，beforehewasaware，hefellasleep.Itwasmidnight.theMetalPigraisedhimselfgently，andtheboyheardhimsayquitedistinctly， “Holdtight，littleboy，forIamgoingtorun；”andawayhestartedforamostwonderfulride.First，theyarrivedatthePiazzadelGranduca，andthemetalhorsewhichbearsthedukesstatue，neighedaloud.Thepaintedcoats-of-armsontheoldcouncil-houseshoneliketransparentpictures，andMichaelAngelosDavidtossedhissling；itwasasifeverythinghadlife.Themetallicgroupsoffigures，amongwhichwerePerseusandtheRapeoftheSabines，lookedlikelivingpersons，andcriesofterrorsoundedfromthemallacrossthenoblesquare.BythePalazzodegliUffizi，inthearcade，wherethenobilityassembleforthecarnival，theMetalPigstopped. “Holdfast，”saidtheanimal； “holdfast，forIamgoingupstairs.”thelittleboysaidnotaword；hewashalfpleasedandhalfafraid.Theyenteredalonggallery，wheretheboyhadbeenbefore.Thewallswereresplendentwithpaintings；herestoodstatuesandbusts，allinaclearlightasifitwereday.Butthegrandestappearedwhenthedoorofasideroomopened；thelittleboycouldrememberwhatbeautifulthingshehadseenthere，butto-nighteverythingshoneinitsbrightestcolors.Herestoodthefigureofabeautifulwoman，asbeautifullysculpturedaspossiblebyoneoftheGREatmasters.Hergracefullimbsappearedtomove；dolphinssprangatherfeet，andimmortalityshonefromhereyes.TheworldcalledhertheVenusdeMedici.Byhersidewerestatues，inwhichthespiritoflifebreathedinstone；figuresofmen，oneofwhomwhettedhissword，andwasnamedtheGrinder；wrestlinggladiatorsformedanothergroup，theswordhadbeensharpenedforthem，andtheystroveforthegoddessofbeauty.Theboywasdazzledbysomuchglitter；forthewallsweregleamingwithbrightcolors，allappearedlivingreality.Astheypassedfromhalltohall，beautyeverywhereshoweditself；andastheMetalPigwentstepbystepfromonepicturetotheother，thelittleboycouldseeitallplainly.Onegloryeclipsedanother；yettherewasonepicturethatfixeditselfonthelittleboysmemory，moreespeciallybecauseofthehappychildrenitrepresented，forthesethelittleboyhadseenindaylight.Manypassthispicturebywithindifference，andyetitcontainsatreasureofpoeticfeeling；itrepresentsChristdescendingintoHades.Theyarenotthelostwhomthespectatorsees，buttheheathenofoldentimes.TheFlorentine，AngioloBronzino，paintedthispicture；mostbeautifulistheexpressiononthefaceofthetwochildren，whoappeartohavefullconfidencethattheyshallreachheavenatlast.Theyareembracingeachother，andonelittleonestretchesouthishandtowardsanotherwhostandsbelowhim，andpointstohimself，asifheweresaying， “Iamgoingtoheaven.”Theolderpeoplestandasifuncertain，yethopeful，andtheybowinhumbleadorationtotheLordJesus.Onthispicturetheboyseyesrestedlongerthanonanyother：theMetalPigstoodstillbeforeit.Alowsighwasheard.Diditcomefromthepictureorfromtheanimal？Theboyraisedhishandstowardsthesmilingchildren，andthenthePigranoffwithhimthroughtheopenvestibule.“Thankyou，thankyou，youbeautifulanimal，”saidthelittleboy，caressingtheMetalPigasitrandownthesteps.“Thankstoyourselfalso，”repliedtheMetalPig； “Ihavehelpedyouandyouhavehelpedme，foritisonlywhenIhaveaninnocentchildonmybackthatIreceivethepowertorun.Yes；asyousee，Icanevenventureundertheraysofthelamp，infrontofthepictureoftheMadonna，butImaynotenterthechurch；stillfromwithout，andwhileyouareuponmyback，Imaylookinthroughtheopendoor.Donotgetdownyet，forifyoudo，thenIshallbelifeless，asyouhaveseenmeinthePortaRosa.”“Iwillstaywithyou，mydearcreature，”saidthelittleboy.SothentheywentonatarapidpacethroughthestreetsofFlorence，tilltheycametothesquarebeforethechurchofSantaCroce.Thefolding-doorsflewopen，andlightstreamedfromthealtarthroughthechurchintothedesertedsquare.Awonderfulblazeoflightstreamedfromoneofthemonumentsintheleft-sideaisle，andathousandmovingstarsseemedtoformagloryroundit；eventhecoat-of-armsonthetomb-stoneshone，andaredladderonabluefieldgleamedlikefire.ItwasthegraveofGalileo.Themonumentisunadorned，buttheredladderisanemblemofart，signifyingthatthewaytogloryleadsupashiningladder，onwhichtheprophetsofmindrisetoheaven，likeEliasofold.Intherightaisleofthechurcheverystatueontherichlycarvedsarcophagiseemedendowedwithlife.HerestoodMichaelAngelo；thereDante，withthelaurelwreathroundhisbrow；AlfieriandMachiavelli；forheresidebysideresttheGREatmentheprideofItaly.1Thechurchitselfisverybeautiful，evenmorebeautifulthanthemarblecathedralatFlorence，thoughnotsolarge.Itseemedasifthecarvedvestmentsstirred，andasifthemarblefigurestheycoveredraisedtheirheadshigher，togazeuponthebrightlycoloredglowingaltarwherethewhite-robedboysswungthegoldencensers，amidmusicandsong，whilethestrongfragranceofincensefilledthechurch，andstreamedforthintothesquare.Theboystretchedforthhishandstowardsthelight，andatthesamemomenttheMetalPigstartedagainsorapidlythathewasobligedtoclingtightlytohim.Thewindwhistledinhisears，heheardthechurchdoorcreakonitshingesasitclosed，anditseemedtohimasifhehadlosthissensesthenacoldshudderpassedoverhim，andheawoke.Itwasmorning；theMetalPigstoodinitsoldplaceonthePortaRosa，andtheboyfoundhehadslippednearlyoffitsback.Fearandtremblingcameuponhimashethoughtofhismother；shehadsenthimoutthedaybeforetogetsomemoney，hehadnotdoneso，andnowhewashungryandthirsty.Oncemoreheclaspedtheneckofhismetalhorse，kisseditsnose，andnoddedfarewelltoit.Thenhewanderedawayintooneofthenarroweststreets，wheretherewasscarcelyroomforaloadeddonkeytopass.AGREatiron-bounddoorstoodajar；hepassedthrough，andclimbedupabrickstaircase，withdirtywallsandaropeforabalustrade，tillhecametoanopengalleryhungwithrags.Fromhereaflightofstepsleddowntoacourt，wherefromawellwaterwasdrawnupbyironrollerstothedifferentstoriesofthehouse，andwherethewater-bucketshungsidebyside.Sometimestherollerandthebucketdancedintheair，splashingthewateralloverthecourt.Anotherbroken-downstaircaseledfromthegallery，andtwoRussiansailorsrunningdownitalmostupsetthepoorboy.Theywerecomingfromtheirnightlycarousal.Awomannotveryyoung，withanunpleasantfaceandaquantityofblackhair，followedthem. “Whathaveyoubroughthome？”sheasked.whenshesawtheboy.“Dontbeangry，”hepleaded； “Ireceivednothing，Ihavenothingatall；”andheseizedhismothersdressandwouldhavekissedit.Thentheywentintoalittleroom.Ineednotdescribeit，butonlysaythattherestoodinitanearthenpotwithhandles，madeforholdingfire，whichinItalyiscalledamarito.Thispotshetookinherlap，warmedherfingers，andpushedtheboywithherelbow.“Certainlyyoumusthavesomemoney，”shesaid.theboybegantocry，andthenshestruckhimwithherfoottillhecriedoutlouder.“Willyoubequiet？orIllbreakyourscreaminghead；”andsheswungaboutthefire-potwhichsheheldinherhand，whiletheboycrouchedtotheearthandscreamed.thenaneighborcamein，andshehadalsoamaritounderherarm. “Felicita，”shesaid， “whatareyoudoingtothechild？”“thechildismine，”sheanswered； “IcanmurderhimifIlike，andyoutoo，Giannina.”Andthensheswungaboutthefire-pot.Theotherwomanliftedupherstodefendherself，andthetwopotsclashedtogethersoviolentlythattheyweredashedtopieces，andfireandashesflewabouttheroom.Theboyrushedoutatthesight，spedacrossthecourtyard，andfledfromthehouse.Thepoorchildrantillhewasquiteoutofbreath；atlasthestoppedatthechurch，thedoorsofwhichwereopenedtohimthenightbefore，andwentin.Hereeverythingwasbright，andtheboykneltdownbythefirsttombonhisright，thegraveofMichaelAngelo，andsobbedasifhisheartwouldbreak.Peoplecameandwent，masswasperformed，butnoonenoticedtheboy，exceptinganelderlycitizen，whostoodstillandlookedathimforamoment，andthenwentawayliketherest.Hungerandthirstoverpoweredthechild，andhebecamequitefaintandill.Atlasthecreptintoacornerbehindthemarblemonuments，andwenttosleep.Towardseveninghewasawakenedbyapullathissleeve；hestartedup，andthesameoldcitizenstoodbeforehim.“Areyouill？wheredoyoulive？haveyoubeenhereallday？”weresomeofthequestionsaskedbytheoldman.Afterhearinghisanswers，theoldmantookhimhometoasmallhousecloseby，inabackstreet.Theyenteredaglovemakersshop，whereawomansatsewingbusily.Alittlewhitepoodle，socloselyshaventhathispinkskincouldplainlybeseen，friskedabouttheroom，andgambolledupontheboy.“Innocentsoulsaresoonintimate，”saidthewoman，asshecaressedboththeboyandthedog.Thesegoodpeoplegavethechildfoodanddrink，andsaidheshouldstaywiththemallnight，andthatthenextdaytheoldman，whowascalledGiuseppe，wouldgoandspeaktohismother.Alittlehomelybedwaspreparedforhim，buttohimwhohadsooftensleptonthehardstonesitwasaroyalcouch，andhesleptsweetlyanddreamedofthesplendidpicturesandoftheMetalPig.Giuseppewentoutthenextmorning，andthepoorchildwasnotgladtoseehimgo，forheknewthattheoldmanwasgonetohismother，andthat，perhaps，hewouldhavetogoback.Heweptatthethought，andthenheplayedwiththelittle，livelydog，andkissedit，whiletheoldwomanlookedkindlyathimtoencouragehim.AndwhatnewsdidGiuseppebringback？Atfirsttheboycouldnothear，forhetalkedaGREatdealtohiswife，andshenoddedandstrokedtheboyscheek.thenshesaid， “Heisagoodlad，heshallstaywithus，hemaybecomeacleverglovemaker，likeyou.Lookwhatdelicatefingershehasgot；Madonnaintendedhimforaglovemaker.”Sotheboystayedwiththem，andthewomanherselftaughthimtosew；andheatewell，andsleptwell，andbecameverymerry.ButatlasthebegantoteaseBellissima，asthelittledogwascalled.Thismadethewomanangry，andshescoldedhimandthreatenedhim，whichmadehimveryunhappy，andhewentandsatinhisownroomfullofsadthoughts.Thischamberlookeduponthestreet，inwhichhungskinstodry，andtherewerethickironbarsacrosshiswindow.Thatnighthelayawake，thinkingoftheMetalPig；indeed，itwasalwaysinhisthoughts.Suddenlyhefanciedheheardfeetoutsidegoingpit-a-pat.Hesprungoutofbedandwenttothewindow.CoulditbetheMetalPig？Buttherewasnothingtobeseen；whateverhehadheardhadpassedalready.Nextmorning，theirneighbor，theartist，passedby，carryingapaint-boxandalargerollofcanvas.“Helpthegentlemantocarryhisboxofcolors，”saidthewomantotheboy；andheobeyedinstantly，tookthebox，andfollowedthepainter.Theywalkedontilltheyreachedthepicturegallery，andmountedthesamestaircaseupwhichhehadriddenthatnightontheMetalPig.Herememberedallthestatuesandpictures，thebeautifulmarbleVenus，andagainhelookedattheMadonnawiththeSaviourandSt.John.TheystoppedbeforethepicturebyBronzino，inwhichChristisrepresentedasstandinginthelowerworld，withthechildrensmilingbeforeHim，inthesweetexpectationofenteringheaven；andthepoorboysmiled，too，forherewashisheaven.“Youmaygohomenow，”saidthepainter，whiletheboystoodwatchinghim，tillhehadsetuphiseasel.“MayIseeyoupaint？”askedtheboy； “mayIseeyouputthepictureonthiswhitecanvas？”“Iamnotgoingtopaintyet，”repliedtheartist；thenhebroughtoutapieceofchalk.Hishandmovedquickly，andhiseyemeasuredtheGREatpicture；andthoughnothingappearedbutafaintline，thefigureoftheSaviourwasasclearlyvisibleasinthecoloredpicture.“Whydontyougo？”saidthepainter.Thentheboywanderedhomesilently，andseatedhimselfonthetable，andlearnedtosewgloves.Butalldaylonghisthoughtswereinthepicturegallery；andsoheprickedhisfingersandwasawkward.ButhedidnotteaseBellissima.Wheneveningcame，andthehousedoorstoodopen，heslippedout.Itwasabright，beautiful，starlightevening，butrathercold.Awayhewentthroughthealready-desertedstreets，andsooncametotheMetalPig；hestoopeddownandkisseditsshiningnose，andthenseatedhimselfonitsback.“Youhappycreature，”hesaid； “howIhavelongedforyou！wemusttakearideto-night.”ButtheMetalPiglaymotionless，whilethefreshstreamgushedforthfromitsmouth.Thelittleboystillsatastrideonitsback，whenhefeltsomethingpullingathisclothes.Helookeddown，andtherewasBellissima，littlesmooth-shavenBellissima，barkingasifshewouldhavesaid， “HereIamtoo；whyareyousittingthere？”Afierydragoncouldnothavefrightenedthelittleboysomuchasdidthelittledoginthisplace. “Bellissimainthestreet，andnotdressed！”astheoldladycalledit； “whatwouldbetheendofthis？”thedogneverwentoutinwinter，unlessshewasattiredinalittlelambskincoatwhichhadbeenmadeforher；itwasfastenedroundthelittledogsneckandbodywithredribbons，andwasdecoratedwithrosettesandlittlebells.Thedoglookedalmostlikealittlekidwhenshewasallowedtogooutinwinter，andtrotafterhermistress.Andnowhereshewasinthecold，andnotdressed.Oh，howwoulditend？Allhisfancieswerequicklyputtoflight；yethekissedtheMetalPigoncemore，andthentookBellissimainhisarms.Thepoorlittlethingtrembledsowithcold，thattheboyranhomewardasfastashecould.“Whatareyourunningawaywiththere？”askedtwoofthepolicewhomhemet，andatwhomthedogbarked. “Wherehaveyoustolenthatprettydog？”theyasked；andtheytookitawayfromhim.“Oh，Ihavenotstolenit；dogiveittomebackagain，”criedtheboy，despairingly.“Ifyouhavenotstolenit，youmaysayathomethattheycansendtothewatch-houseforthedog.”Thentheytoldhimwherethewatch-housewas，andwentawaywithBellissima.Herewasadreadfultrouble.theboydidnotknowwhetherhehadbetterjumpintotheArno，orgohomeandconfesseverything.Theywouldcertainlykillhim，hethought.“Well，Iwouldgladlybekilled，”hereasoned； “forthenIshalldie，andgotoheaven：”andsohewenthome，almosthopingfordeath.thedoorwaslocked，andhecouldnotreachtheknocker.Noonewasinthestreet；sohetookupastone，andwithitmadeatremendousnoiseatthedoor.“Whoisthere？”askedsomebodyfromwithin.“ItisI，”saidhe. “Bellissimaisgone.Openthedoor，andthenkillme.”thenindeedtherewasaGREatpanic.MadamewassoveryfondofBellissima.Sheimmediatelylookedatthewallwherethedogsdressusuallyhung；andtherewasthelittlelambskin.“Bellissimainthewatch-house！”shecried. “Youbadboy！howdidyouenticeherout？Poorlittledelicatething，withth