THE ELF OF THE ROSE故事

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　　　THE ELF OF THE ROSE故事
　　    IN the midst of a garden grew a rose-tree, in full
　　    blossom, and in the prettiest of all the roses lived an elf.
　　    He was such a little wee thing, that no human eye could see
　　    him. Behind each leaf of the rose he had a sleeping chamber.
　　    He was as well formed and as beautiful as a little child could
　　    be, and had wings that reached from his shoulders to his feet.
　　    Oh, what sweet fragrance there was in his chambers! and how
　　    clean and beautiful were the walls! for they were the blushing
　　    leaves of the rose.
　　    During the whole day he enjoyed himself in the warm
　　    sunshine, flew from flower to flower, and danced on the wings
　　    of the flying butterflies. Then he took it into his head to
　　    measure how many steps he would have to go through the roads
　　    and cross-roads that are on the leaf of a linden-tree. What we
　　    call the veins on a leaf, he took for roads; ay, and very long
　　    roads they were for him; for before he had half finished his
　　    task, the sun went down: he had commenced his work too late.
　　    It became very cold, the dew fell, and the wind blew; so he
　　    thought the best thing he could do would be to return home. He
　　    hurried himself as much as he could; but he found the roses
　　    all closed up, and he could not get in; not a single rose
　　    stood open. The poor little elf was very much frightened. He
　　    had never before been out at night, but had always slumbered
　　    secretly behind the warm rose-leaves. Oh, this would certainly
　　    be his death. At the other end of the garden, he knew there
　　    was an arbor, overgrown with beautiful honey-suckles. The
　　    blossoms looked like large painted horns; and he thought to
　　    himself, he would go and sleep in one of these till the
　　    morning. He flew thither; but "hush!" two people were in the
　　    arbor,- a handsome young man and a beautiful lady. They sat
　　    side by side, and wished that they might never be obliged to
　　    part. They loved each other much more than the best child can
　　    love its father and mother.
　　    "But we must part," said the young man; "your brother does
            
            

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　　    not like our engagement, and therefore he sends me so far away
　　    on business, over mountains and seas. Farewell, my sweet
　　    bride; for so you are to me."
　　    And then they kissed each other, and the girl wept, and
　　    gave him a rose; but before she did so, she pressed a kiss
　　    upon it so fervently that the flower opened. Then the little
　　    elf flew in, and leaned his head on the delicate, fragrant
　　    walls. Here he could plainly hear them say, "Farewell,
　　    farewell;" and he felt that the rose had been placed on the
　　    young man's breast. Oh, how his heart did beat! The little elf
　　    could not go to sleep, it thumped so loudly. The young man
　　    took it out as he walked through the dark wood alone, and
　　    kissed the flower so often and so violently, that the little
　　    elf was almost crushed. He could feel through the leaf how hot
　　    the lips of the young man were, and the rose had opened, as if
　　    from the heat of the noonday sun.
　　    There came another man, who looked gloomy and wicked. He
　　    was the wicked brother of the beautiful maiden. He drew out a
　　    sharp knife, and while the other was kissing the rose, the
　　    wicked man stabbed him to death; then he cut off his head, and
　　    buried it with the body in the soft earth under the
　　    linden-tree.
　　    "Now he is gone, and will soon be forgotten," thought the
　　    wicked brother; "he will never come back again. He was going
　　    on a long journey over mountains and seas; it is easy for a
　　    man to lose his life in such a journey. My sister will suppose
　　    he is dead; for he cannot come back, and she will not dare to
　　    question me about him."
　　    Then he scattered the dry leaves over the light earth with
　　    his foot, and went ho
　　me through the darkness; but he went not
　　    alone, as he thought,- the little elf accompanied him. He sat
　　    in a dry rolled-up linden-leaf, which had fallen from the tree
　　    on to the wicked man's head, as he was digging the grave. The
　　    hat was on the head now, which made it very dark, and the
　　    little elf shuddered with fright and indignation at the wicked
            
            

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　　    deed.
　　    It was the dawn of morning before the wicked man reached
　　    home; he took off his hat, and went into his sister's room.
　　    There lay the beautiful, blooming girl, dreaming of him whom
　　    she loved so, and who was now, she supposed, travelling far
　　    away over mountain and sea. Her wicked brother stopped over
　　    her, and laughed hideously, as fiends only can laugh. The dry
　　    leaf fell out of his hair upon the counterpane; but he did not
　　    notice it, and went to get a little sleep during the early
　　    morning hours. But the elf slipped out of the withered leaf,
　　    placed himself by the ear of the sleeping girl, and told her,
　　    as in a dream, of the horrid murder; described the place where
　　    her brother had slain her lover, and buried his body; and told
　　    her of the linden-tree, in full blossom, that stood close by.
　　    "That you may not think this is only a dream that I have
　　    told you," he said, "you will find on your bed a withered
　　    leaf."
　　    Then she awoke, and found it there. Oh, what bitter tears
　　    she shed! and she could not open her heart to any one for
　　    relief.
　　    The window stood open the whole day, and the little elf
　　    could easily have reached the roses, or any of the flowers;
　　    but he could not find it in his heart to leave one so
　　    afflicted. In the window stood a bush bearing monthly roses.
　　    He seated himself in one of the flowers, and gazed on the poor
　　    girl. Her brother often came into the room, and would be quite
　　    cheerful, in spite of his base conduct; so she dare not say a
　　    word to him of her heart's grief.
　　    As soon as night came on, she slipped out of the house,
　　    and went into the wood, to the spot where the linden-tree
　　    stood; and after removing the leaves from the earth, she
　　    turned it up, and there found him who had been murdered. Oh,
　　    how she wept and prayed that she also might die! Gladly would
　　    she have taken the body home with her; but that was
　　    impossible; so she took up the poor head with the closed eyes,
　　    kissed the cold lips, and shook the mould out of the beautiful
            
            

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　　    hair.
　　    "I will keep this," said she; and as soon as she had
　　    covered the body again with the earth and leaves, she took the
　　    head and a little sprig of jasmine that bloomed in the wood,
　　    near the spot where he was buried, and carried them home with
　　    her. As soon as she was in her room, she took the largest
　　    flower-pot she could find, and in this she placed the head of
　　    the dead man, covered it up with earth, and planted the twig
　　    of jasmine in it.
　　    "Farewell, farewell," whispered the little elf. He could
　　    not any longer endure to witness all this agony of grief, he
　　    therefore flew away to his own rose in the garden. But the
　　    rose was faded; only a few dry leaves still clung to the green
　　    hedge behind it.
　　    "Alas! how soon all that is good and beautiful passes
　　    away," sighed the elf.
　　    After a while he found another rose, which became his
　　    home, for among its delicate fragrant leaves he could dwell in
　　    safety. Every morning he flew to the window of the poor girl,
　　    and always found her weeping by the flower pot. The bitter
　　    tears fell upon the jasmine twig, and each day, as she became
　　    paler and paler, the sprig appeared to grow greener and
　　    fresher. One shoot after another sprouted forth, and little
　　    white buds blossomed, which the poor girl fondly kissed. But
　　    her wicked brother scolded her, and asked her if she was going
　　    mad. He could not imagine why she was weeping over that
　　    flower-pot, and it annoyed him. He did not know whose closed
　　    eyes were there, nor what red lips were fading beneath the
　　    earth. And one day she sat and leaned her head against the
　　    flower-pot, and the little elf of the rose found her asleep.
　　    Then he seated himself by her ear, talked to her of that
　　    evening in the arbor, of the sweet perfume of the rose, and
　　    the loves of the elves. Sweetly she dreamed, and while she
　　    dreamt, her life passed away calmly and gently, and her spirit
　　    was with him whom she loved, in heaven. And the jasmine opened
　　    its large white bells, and spread forth its sweet fragrance;
            
            

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　　    it had no other way of showing its grief for the dead. But the
　　    wicked brother considered the beautiful blooming plant as his
　　    own property, left to him by his sister, and he placed it in
　　    his sleeping room, close by his bed, for it was very lovely in
　　    appearance, and the fragrance sweet and delightful. The little
　　    elf of the rose followed it, and flew from flower to flower,
　　    telling each little spirit that dwelt in them the story of the
　　    murdered young man, whose head now formed part of the earth
　　    beneath them, and of the wicked brother and the poor sister.
　　    "We know it," said each little spirit in the flowers, "we know
　　    it, for have we not sprung from the eyes and lips of the
　　    murdered one. We know it, we know it," and the flowers nodded
　　    with their heads in a peculiar manner. The elf of the rose
　　    could not understand how they could rest so quietly in the
　　    matter, so he flew to the bees, who were gathering honey, and
　　    told them of the wicked brother. And the bees told it to their
　　    queen, who commanded that the next morning they should go and
　　    kill the murderer. But during the night, the first after the
　　    sister's death, while the brother was sleeping in his bed,
　　    close to where he had placed the fragrant jasmine, every
　　    flower cup opened, and invisibly the little spirits stole out,
　　    armed with poisonous spears. They placed themselves by the ear
　　    of the sleeper, told him dreadful dreams and then flew across
　　    his lips, and pricked his tongue with their poisoned spears.
　　    "Now have we revenged the dead," said they, and flew back into
　　    the white bells of the jasmine flowers. When the morning came,
　　    and as soon as the window was opened, the rose elf, with the
　　    queen bee, and the whole swarm of bees, rushed in to kill him.
　　    But he was already dead. People were standing round the bed,
　　    and saying that the scent of the jasmine had killed him. Then
　　    the elf of the rose understood the revenge of the flowers, and
　　    explained it to the queen bee, and she, with the whole swarm,
　　    buzzed about the flower-pot. The bees could not be driven
            
            

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　　    away. Then a man took it up to remove it, and one of the bees
　　    stung him in the hand, so that he let the flower-pot fall, and
　　    it was broken to pieces. Then every one saw the whitened
　　    skull, and they knew the dead man in the bed was a murderer.
　　    And the queen bee hummed in the air, and sang of the revenge
　　    of the flowers, and of the elf of the rose and said that
　　    behind the smallest leaf dwells One, who can discover evil
　　    deeds, and punish them also.
　　    THE END