mrfakename/libritts-texts · Datasets at Hugging Face

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It happened a good many years ago, but that's just why it's worth while to hear the story before it is forgotten.
For all that, they did not know it quite by heart, for it was so very difficult.
In China, you must know, the Emperor is a Chinaman, and all whom he has about him are Chinamen too.
It was made wholly of fine porcelain, very costly, but so brittle and so hard to handle that one had to take care how one touched it.
It made just as much of a hit as the real one, and then it was so much more fine to look at--it shone like bracelets and breastpins.
No one had noticed that it had flown away, out of the open window, back to its green woods.
But the next night, when the bird sang again, and the Fisherman heard it, he said as before, "How beautiful that is!"
It was now to remain at court, to have its own cage, with freedom to go out twice every day and once at night.
But the Emperor was not dead yet: stiff and pale he lay on the gorgeous bed with the long velvet curtains and the heavy gold tassels; high up, a window stood open, and the moon shone in upon the Emperor and the toy bird.
And she pointed to a little gray bird up in the boughs.
"My song sounds best in the greenwood!" replied the Nightingale; still it came willingly when it heard what the Emperor wished.
The Chinese were really fond of their Emperor, and now he was sick, and could not, it was said, live much longer.
It must certainly have lost its color at seeing so many famous people around."
One day a large parcel came to the Emperor, on which was written "The Nightingale."
And so they had to sing together; but it did not sound very well, for the real Nightingale sang in its own way, and the toy bird sang waltzes.
I drove you from my land and empire, and yet you have charmed away the evil faces from my bed, and driven Death from my heart!
"One thing I beg of you: tell no one that you have a little bird who tells you everything.
Three-and-thirty times over did it sing the same piece, and yet was not tired.
He opened his eyes, and then he saw that it was Death who sat upon his breast, and had put on his golden crown, and held in one hand the Emperor's sword, and in the other his beautiful banner.
Is there such a bird in my empire, and in my garden to boot?
One can explain it; one can open it, and can show how much thought went to making it, where the waltzes come from, how they go, and how one follows another."
And the Play-master praised the bird highly; yes, he declared that it was better than the real Nightingale, not only in its feathers and its many beautiful diamonds, but inside as well.
"It did well as long as it could; keep it as you have done till now.
When they were on the way, a cow began to low.
"That's not its fault," said the Play-master: "it's quite perfect, and very much in my style."
"My excellent little Nightingale," said the Cavalier, "I have great pleasure in inviting you to a court festival this evening, when you shall charm his Imperial Majesty with your beautiful singing."
I will come and sing to you--but one thing you must promise me."
The toy bird had its place on a silken cushion close to the Emperor's bed.
"It sounds pretty enough, and it's a little like, but there's something wanting, though I know not what!"
These were all the Emperor's bad and good deeds, that stood before him now that Death sat upon his heart.
And the travelers told of it when they came home; and the learned men wrote many books about the town, the palace, and the garden.
I love your heart more than your crown, and yet the crown has an air of sanctity about it.
And Death gave up each of these treasures for a song.
I will sing of those who are happy and of those who suffer.
"That is capital!" said they all, and he who had brought the toy bird at once got the title Imperial Head-Nightingale-Bringer.
From all the countries of the world travelers came to the city of the Emperor, and admired it, and the palace, and the garden; but when they heard the Nightingale, they all said, "That is the best of all!"
"You shall sing as you please; and I'll break the toy bird into a thousand pieces."
Eleven storekeepers' children were named after the bird, but not one of them could sing a note.
The Emperor jumped at once out of bed, and had his own doctor called; but what could he do?
"There is said to be a strange bird here called a Nightingale!" said the Emperor.
There was a running to and fro, and a draught of air, but all the bells rang so exactly together that one could not hear any noise.
In title it had come to be High Imperial After-Dinner-Singer, and in rank it was Number One on the left hand; for the Emperor reckoned that side the most important on which the heart is placed, and even in an Emperor the heart is on the left side.
And they kept on, and Death nodded like a Chinaman to all they said.
"Little Nightingale!" called the little Kitchen-maid, quite loudly, "our gracious Emperor wishes you to sing before him."
The sun shone upon him through the windows, when he awoke strong and sound.
"With the greatest pleasure!" replied the Nightingale, and sang so that it was a joy to hear it.
"That's the most lovely way of making love I ever saw!" said the ladies who stood round about, and then they took water in their mouths to gurgle when any one spoke to them.
Then there sounded close by the window the most lovely song.
But it was not a book: it was a little work of art, that lay in a box; a toy nightingale, which was to sing like a live one, but it was all covered with diamonds, rubies, and sapphires.
"I drew tears from your eyes, the first time I sang--I shall never forget that.
Then Death felt a longing to see his garden, and floated out at the window in the form of a cold, white mist.
The chamberlains ran out to talk it over, and the ladies'-maids had a great coffee party.
"But the book in which I read this," said the Emperor, "was sent to me by the high and mighty Emperor of Japan, and so it cannot be a falsehood.
Cold and pale lay the Emperor in his great, gorgeous bed; the whole court thought him dead, and each one ran to pay respect to the new ruler.
And as it sang the spectres grew paler and paler; the blood ran more and more quickly through the Emperor's weak limbs, and Death himself listened, and said:--
I have given you gold and costly presents; I have even hung my golden slipper around your neck--now, sing!"
"I command that it shall come here this evening, and sing before me," said the Emperor.
The whole city spoke of the wonderful bird, and when two people met, one said nothing but "Nightin," and the other said "gale"; and then they sighed, and understood one another.
And the Nightingale sang so gloriously that the tears came into the Emperor's eyes, and the tears ran down over his cheeks; and then the Nightingale sang still more sweetly; that went straight to the heart. The Emperor was happy, and he said the Nightingale should have his golden slipper to wear round its neck.
"How beautiful that is!" he said; but he had to attend to his work, and so he forgot the bird.
The little singing bird flies far around, to the poor fisherman, to the peasant's roof, to every one who dwells far away from you and from your court.
Yes, everything in the Emperor's garden was nicely set out, and it reached so far that the gardener himself did not know where the end was.
If a man went on and on, he came into a glorious forest with high trees and deep lakes.
The most glorious flowers, which could ring clearly, had been placed in the halls.
I cannot build my nest in the palace to dwell in it, but let me come when I feel the wish; then I will sit in the evening on the spray yonder by the window, and sing for you, so that you may be glad and thoughtful at once.
The poor Emperor could scarcely breathe; it was just as if something lay upon his breast.
It had heard of the Emperor's need, and had come to sing to him of trust and hope.
But the bird stood still,--no one was there to wind him up, and he could not sing without that; but Death kept on staring at the Emperor with his great hollow eyes, and it was quiet, fearfully quiet.
So they all went out into the wood where the Nightingale was wont to sing; half the court went out.
But the poor Fisherman, who had heard the real Nightingale, said:--
"Music! music! the great Chinese drum!" he cried, "so that I need not hear all they say!"
Then all the courtiers scolded, and thought the Nightingale was a very thankless creature.
And all around, from among the folds of the splendid velvet curtains, strange heads peered forth; a few very ugly, the rest quite lovely and mild.
"Everything!" said the Emperor; and he stood there in his royal robes, which he had put on himself, and pressed the sword which was heavy with gold to his heart.
And the Cavalier ran back to the Emperor, and said that it must be a fable made up by those who write books.
"For you see, ladies and gentlemen, and above all, your Imperial Majesty, with the real Nightingale one can never make sure what is coming, but in this toy bird everything is settled.
All the presents it had received, gold and precious stones, were ranged about it.
"They say it is the best thing in all my great empire.
In the garden were to be seen the most wonderful flowers, and to the prettiest of them silver bells were tied, which tinkled, so that nobody should pass by without noticing the flowers.
He sat in his golden chair, and read, and read; every moment he nodded his head, for it pleased him to hear the fine things that were said about the city, the palace, and the garden.
And the Play-master wrote a work of five-and-twenty volumes about the toy bird: it was so learned and so long, full of the most difficult Chinese words, that all the people said they had read it and understood it, or else they would have been thought stupid, and would have had their bodies trampled on.
"But the Nightingale is the best of all!"--it stood written there.
Five years had gone by, and a real grief came upon the whole nation.
The people would gladly have heard it again, but the Emperor said that the living Nightingale ought to sing a little something.
All were in full dress, and all looked at the little gray bird, to which the Emperor nodded.
"I have seen tears in the Emperor's eyes--that is the real treasure to me.
The Emperor, the court, and all the other Chinese knew every little twitter in the toy bird's song by heart. But just for that reason it pleased them best--they could sing with it themselves, and they did so.
"All the world knows what I have, and I do not know it myself!"
The whole court was there, and the little Cook-maid had leave to stand behind the door, as she had now received the title of a real cook-maid.
And the lackeys and maids let it be known that they were pleased too; and that was saying a good deal, for they are the hardest of all to please.
Thereupon Rashid al-Din mounted his she mule and repaired with his brother and his servants to the house of Ali Shar, taking with him a purse of a thousand dinars, wherewith to bribe the Chief of Police, should he meet him.
Meanwhile, she looked narrowly at the ins and outs of the place to see who it was she had heard groaning, till her glance fell on Zumurrud, when she knew her and she began to show her customers yet more kindness.
And he groaned and wept and lamented and again shed tears, repeating these couplets,
When the burning of the blows had cooled, she said, "There is no god but the God and Mohammed is the Apostle of God!
Lastly they left Ali Shar lying in the vestibule after they had shut the door on him and laid the saloon key by his side.
Now he was a skilful wizard, crafty and wicked; so he watched his time and ceased not his practices till he played Ali Shar the trick before related; then, taking the key, he went to his brother and acquainted him with what had passed.
He waited till night darkened and, when came the appointed time, he went to the quarter she had described to him and saw and recognised the Christian's house; so he sat down on the bench under the gallery.
And when he had ended his verse, he sobbed with loud sobs and repeated also these couplets,
And as the old woman spoke them fair and was easy with them as to price, all rejoiced in her, because of her kind ways and pleasant speech.
And he repented when repentance availed him naught, and wept and rent his raiment.

It happened a good many years ago, but that's just why it's worth while to hear the story before it is forgotten.

For all that, they did not know it quite by heart, for it was so very difficult.

In China, you must know, the Emperor is a Chinaman, and all whom he has about him are Chinamen too.

It was made wholly of fine porcelain, very costly, but so brittle and so hard to handle that one had to take care how one touched it.

It made just as much of a hit as the real one, and then it was so much more fine to look at--it shone like bracelets and breastpins.

No one had noticed that it had flown away, out of the open window, back to its green woods.

But the next night, when the bird sang again, and the Fisherman heard it, he said as before, "How beautiful that is!"

It was now to remain at court, to have its own cage, with freedom to go out twice every day and once at night.

But the Emperor was not dead yet: stiff and pale he lay on the gorgeous bed with the long velvet curtains and the heavy gold tassels; high up, a window stood open, and the moon shone in upon the Emperor and the toy bird.

And she pointed to a little gray bird up in the boughs.

"My song sounds best in the greenwood!" replied the Nightingale; still it came willingly when it heard what the Emperor wished.

The Chinese were really fond of their Emperor, and now he was sick, and could not, it was said, live much longer.

It must certainly have lost its color at seeing so many famous people around."

One day a large parcel came to the Emperor, on which was written "The Nightingale."

And so they had to sing together; but it did not sound very well, for the real Nightingale sang in its own way, and the toy bird sang waltzes.

I drove you from my land and empire, and yet you have charmed away the evil faces from my bed, and driven Death from my heart!

"One thing I beg of you: tell no one that you have a little bird who tells you everything.

Three-and-thirty times over did it sing the same piece, and yet was not tired.

He opened his eyes, and then he saw that it was Death who sat upon his breast, and had put on his golden crown, and held in one hand the Emperor's sword, and in the other his beautiful banner.

Is there such a bird in my empire, and in my garden to boot?

One can explain it; one can open it, and can show how much thought went to making it, where the waltzes come from, how they go, and how one follows another."

And the Play-master praised the bird highly; yes, he declared that it was better than the real Nightingale, not only in its feathers and its many beautiful diamonds, but inside as well.

"It did well as long as it could; keep it as you have done till now.

When they were on the way, a cow began to low.

"That's not its fault," said the Play-master: "it's quite perfect, and very much in my style."

"My excellent little Nightingale," said the Cavalier, "I have great pleasure in inviting you to a court festival this evening, when you shall charm his Imperial Majesty with your beautiful singing."

I will come and sing to you--but one thing you must promise me."

The toy bird had its place on a silken cushion close to the Emperor's bed.

"It sounds pretty enough, and it's a little like, but there's something wanting, though I know not what!"

These were all the Emperor's bad and good deeds, that stood before him now that Death sat upon his heart.

And the travelers told of it when they came home; and the learned men wrote many books about the town, the palace, and the garden.

I love your heart more than your crown, and yet the crown has an air of sanctity about it.

And Death gave up each of these treasures for a song.

I will sing of those who are happy and of those who suffer.

"That is capital!" said they all, and he who had brought the toy bird at once got the title Imperial Head-Nightingale-Bringer.

From all the countries of the world travelers came to the city of the Emperor, and admired it, and the palace, and the garden; but when they heard the Nightingale, they all said, "That is the best of all!"

"You shall sing as you please; and I'll break the toy bird into a thousand pieces."

Eleven storekeepers' children were named after the bird, but not one of them could sing a note.

The Emperor jumped at once out of bed, and had his own doctor called; but what could he do?

"There is said to be a strange bird here called a Nightingale!" said the Emperor.

There was a running to and fro, and a draught of air, but all the bells rang so exactly together that one could not hear any noise.

In title it had come to be High Imperial After-Dinner-Singer, and in rank it was Number One on the left hand; for the Emperor reckoned that side the most important on which the heart is placed, and even in an Emperor the heart is on the left side.

And they kept on, and Death nodded like a Chinaman to all they said.

"Little Nightingale!" called the little Kitchen-maid, quite loudly, "our gracious Emperor wishes you to sing before him."

The sun shone upon him through the windows, when he awoke strong and sound.

"With the greatest pleasure!" replied the Nightingale, and sang so that it was a joy to hear it.

"That's the most lovely way of making love I ever saw!" said the ladies who stood round about, and then they took water in their mouths to gurgle when any one spoke to them.

Then there sounded close by the window the most lovely song.

But it was not a book: it was a little work of art, that lay in a box; a toy nightingale, which was to sing like a live one, but it was all covered with diamonds, rubies, and sapphires.

"I drew tears from your eyes, the first time I sang--I shall never forget that.

Then Death felt a longing to see his garden, and floated out at the window in the form of a cold, white mist.

The chamberlains ran out to talk it over, and the ladies'-maids had a great coffee party.

"But the book in which I read this," said the Emperor, "was sent to me by the high and mighty Emperor of Japan, and so it cannot be a falsehood.

Cold and pale lay the Emperor in his great, gorgeous bed; the whole court thought him dead, and each one ran to pay respect to the new ruler.

And as it sang the spectres grew paler and paler; the blood ran more and more quickly through the Emperor's weak limbs, and Death himself listened, and said:--

I have given you gold and costly presents; I have even hung my golden slipper around your neck--now, sing!"

"I command that it shall come here this evening, and sing before me," said the Emperor.

The whole city spoke of the wonderful bird, and when two people met, one said nothing but "Nightin," and the other said "gale"; and then they sighed, and understood one another.

And the Nightingale sang so gloriously that the tears came into the Emperor's eyes, and the tears ran down over his cheeks; and then the Nightingale sang still more sweetly; that went straight to the heart. The Emperor was happy, and he said the Nightingale should have his golden slipper to wear round its neck.

"How beautiful that is!" he said; but he had to attend to his work, and so he forgot the bird.

The little singing bird flies far around, to the poor fisherman, to the peasant's roof, to every one who dwells far away from you and from your court.

Yes, everything in the Emperor's garden was nicely set out, and it reached so far that the gardener himself did not know where the end was.

If a man went on and on, he came into a glorious forest with high trees and deep lakes.

The most glorious flowers, which could ring clearly, had been placed in the halls.

I cannot build my nest in the palace to dwell in it, but let me come when I feel the wish; then I will sit in the evening on the spray yonder by the window, and sing for you, so that you may be glad and thoughtful at once.

The poor Emperor could scarcely breathe; it was just as if something lay upon his breast.

It had heard of the Emperor's need, and had come to sing to him of trust and hope.

But the bird stood still,--no one was there to wind him up, and he could not sing without that; but Death kept on staring at the Emperor with his great hollow eyes, and it was quiet, fearfully quiet.

So they all went out into the wood where the Nightingale was wont to sing; half the court went out.

But the poor Fisherman, who had heard the real Nightingale, said:--

"Music! music! the great Chinese drum!" he cried, "so that I need not hear all they say!"

Then all the courtiers scolded, and thought the Nightingale was a very thankless creature.

And all around, from among the folds of the splendid velvet curtains, strange heads peered forth; a few very ugly, the rest quite lovely and mild.

"Everything!" said the Emperor; and he stood there in his royal robes, which he had put on himself, and pressed the sword which was heavy with gold to his heart.

And the Cavalier ran back to the Emperor, and said that it must be a fable made up by those who write books.

"For you see, ladies and gentlemen, and above all, your Imperial Majesty, with the real Nightingale one can never make sure what is coming, but in this toy bird everything is settled.

All the presents it had received, gold and precious stones, were ranged about it.

"They say it is the best thing in all my great empire.

In the garden were to be seen the most wonderful flowers, and to the prettiest of them silver bells were tied, which tinkled, so that nobody should pass by without noticing the flowers.

He sat in his golden chair, and read, and read; every moment he nodded his head, for it pleased him to hear the fine things that were said about the city, the palace, and the garden.

And the Play-master wrote a work of five-and-twenty volumes about the toy bird: it was so learned and so long, full of the most difficult Chinese words, that all the people said they had read it and understood it, or else they would have been thought stupid, and would have had their bodies trampled on.

"But the Nightingale is the best of all!"--it stood written there.

Five years had gone by, and a real grief came upon the whole nation.

The people would gladly have heard it again, but the Emperor said that the living Nightingale ought to sing a little something.

All were in full dress, and all looked at the little gray bird, to which the Emperor nodded.

"I have seen tears in the Emperor's eyes--that is the real treasure to me.

The Emperor, the court, and all the other Chinese knew every little twitter in the toy bird's song by heart. But just for that reason it pleased them best--they could sing with it themselves, and they did so.

"All the world knows what I have, and I do not know it myself!"

The whole court was there, and the little Cook-maid had leave to stand behind the door, as she had now received the title of a real cook-maid.

And the lackeys and maids let it be known that they were pleased too; and that was saying a good deal, for they are the hardest of all to please.

Thereupon Rashid al-Din mounted his she mule and repaired with his brother and his servants to the house of Ali Shar, taking with him a purse of a thousand dinars, wherewith to bribe the Chief of Police, should he meet him.

Meanwhile, she looked narrowly at the ins and outs of the place to see who it was she had heard groaning, till her glance fell on Zumurrud, when she knew her and she began to show her customers yet more kindness.

And he groaned and wept and lamented and again shed tears, repeating these couplets,

When the burning of the blows had cooled, she said, "There is no god but the God and Mohammed is the Apostle of God!

Lastly they left Ali Shar lying in the vestibule after they had shut the door on him and laid the saloon key by his side.

Now he was a skilful wizard, crafty and wicked; so he watched his time and ceased not his practices till he played Ali Shar the trick before related; then, taking the key, he went to his brother and acquainted him with what had passed.

He waited till night darkened and, when came the appointed time, he went to the quarter she had described to him and saw and recognised the Christian's house; so he sat down on the bench under the gallery.

And when he had ended his verse, he sobbed with loud sobs and repeated also these couplets,

And as the old woman spoke them fair and was easy with them as to price, all rejoiced in her, because of her kind ways and pleasant speech.

And he repented when repentance availed him naught, and wept and rent his raiment.