The Nightingale

by Hans Christian Andersen

In China, as you know, the emperor is Chinese, and all those about him are Chinese, too. It is many years since this story happened, but that is all the more reason for telling it, before it is forgotten.

The emperor's palace was the most splendid in the world. It was made entirely of the finest porcelain, very costly, but so brittle that one had to take great care not to touch it. In the garden were seen the most wonderful flowers, and to the costliest of them silver bells were tied, which tinkled so that no one might pass by without noticing the flowers.

In the midst of this garden, there lived a nightingale, which sang so delightfully that even the poor fisherman, who had so many other things to do, stopped still and listened when he had gone out at night to throw out his nets, and heard the nightingale.

"How beautiful that is!" he said; but he was obliged to attend to his fishing, and forgot the bird. But the next night, when he heard it again, and he again exclaimed, "How beautiful that is!"

The story of the nightingale soon spread through the town, and the nightingale was invited to sing at the emperor's court. When the nightingale heard this, it said, "My song sounds best in the greenwood," but it was willing to go with them when they asked it.

At the palace, it sang so sweetly that the emperor was moved to tears, and he declared that the nightingale should stay in the palace and have its own golden cage, and be allowed to fly twice a day and once at night.

One day, the emperor received a large parcel on which was written "The Nightingale." "Here we have a new book about our celebrated bird," said the emperor. But it was not a book; it was a work of art, enclosed in a box. A nightingale made of gold and precious stones, which could sing like a real one. Its tail was covered with sapphires, and it could sing one of the tunes the real nightingale sang.

Everyone was delighted with the artificial bird, which sang like the real one, but with more regularity. It never got tired and sang the same tune over and over again.

But after a year, the real nightingale became tired of being in the palace and flew away. "What a misfortune!" said the emperor, and all the courtiers scolded and blamed the bird. The emperor ordered that the artificial nightingale should sing, and it did, but it was not the same.

Time passed, and the emperor fell ill. The courtiers all thought he was going to die, and they chose a new emperor. But one evening, when the emperor was lying on his bed, the real nightingale came and sang so sweetly that it brought tears to his eyes. It sang of hope and comfort, and the emperor felt better and slept soundly.

The nightingale promised to come and sing to the emperor every evening if he would only let it live in the forest. The emperor agreed, and the nightingale flew away, but it returned every evening and sang sweetly to the emperor, bringing him hope and comfort.

And so, the emperor's health improved, and he lived happily ever after, listening to the song of the nightingale, which brought joy to his heart.