The Nightingale
Long ago in China there was an emperor whose palace was the most beautiful in the world. It had a remarkable garden that extended into a great forest, and in one of its trees lived a nightingale, who sang so beautifully that anyone who passed by would stop and listen in awe.
Travellers from all over the world came to admire the sanctuary of the emperor's home, but when they heard the nightingale, they all asserted it to be the best of all. Some, on their return home, composed beautiful verses about the nightingale, and one of the verses came into the hands of the emperor. Sitting on his throne, he frequently nodded his approval as he read beautiful descriptions of his palace and garden. But when he came to the words, “the marvellous nightingale is the most beautiful of all,” he asked, “Is there such a bird in my garden? I have never even heard of it!”
He instructed the court to go through the palace and find anyone who knew about this nightingale, a bird that inspired such wonder.
Eventually a poor kitchen girl said, “I know the nightingale well. Every evening I visit my poor sick mother who lives deep in the forest, and, as I pass through the wood, I listen to her beautiful song.”
She led the court into the wood where the nightingale sang.
“There she is!” said the girl, glimpsing the little bird among the branches.
“Nightingale,” cried the girl, “the emperor, who is our most gracious leader, wishes you to sing before him.”
The bird appeared and said, “My song sounds best in this wood,” but still she went to the palace willingly when she heard the emperor's wish.
A golden perch was made for the nightingale to sit on.
Seeing the emperor, the bird sang so sweetly that tears came to the emperor's eyes, his heart being so utterly moved by its beauty. He was so delighted that he declared the nightingale should have a gold necklace to wear round her neck, but she declined with thanks.
“My reward is that I have seen the emperor's tears,” she said.
The nightingale's visit was so successful, the emperor confined her to the palace indefinitely, and guardians were appointed to make sure she could not fly away.
One day the emperor received a large parcel labelled “The Nightingale”. Inside was a mechanical nightingale, that resembled the living one, covered all over with precious jewels. When this artificial bird was wound up, it sang like the real one, and when it moved, it sparkled with silver and gold. It sang the same tune many times without becoming tired. However, amid all the fuss no one had noticed that the living bird had flown out of an open window.
The court said she was an ungrateful bird and forbade her from entering the palace. The people were then allowed to listen to the artificial bird, and although they liked it, they thought it was not quite the same as the real nightingale.
A year passed, and one evening, the song of the artificial bird abruptly halted, as its mechanism had worn out.
Five more years passed, and the emperor became so ill that he was not expected to live.
As he lay on his bed, scarcely able to breathe, he opened his eyes, and saw Death sitting there, wearing the emperor's golden crown, and holding his sword and banner.
“Music!” he cried, “Little bird, sing, please sing!” But the bird remained silent. And Death continued to stare at him with his cold, hollow eyes.
Suddenly the sound of sweet music came through the window. On the branch of a tree, sat the living nightingale. She had heard of the news that the emperor was seriously ill and came to sing to him. And as she sang, the emperor's blood flowed more rapidly, giving life to his weak body, and even Death himself listened and encouraged the nightingale to continue.
“Death, will you give me the emperor's sword, banner, and crown?” asked the bird. Death gave them all for a song. She sang of the quiet churchyard, where the white roses grew. Death longed to go to the churchyard and floated out through the window into the cold night.
“Thanks, heavenly little bird,” said the emperor, “How can I reward you?”
“You already have,” said the nightingale, “Your tears the first time I sang to you are the jewels that rejoice a singer's heart.”
“You must always remain with me,” said the emperor.
“I cannot live here, but I will come and sing to you in the evening. I will sing to you of those who are happy, and those who suffer; of the good and the evil, who are hidden around you. I will fly far from you and your court to the home of the fisherman and the peasant. I love your heart better than your crown. I will come, I will sing to you; but you must promise me one thing.”
“Anything,” said the emperor.
“Let no one know that you have a little companion who tells you everything,” said the bird and flew away. When the servants returned to the sick emperor, there he stood, and, to their surprise, said, “Good morning!”