小学英语安徒生童话系列七TheElfoftheRose阅读素材2

theElfoftheRosebyHansChristianAndersen（1839）INthemidstofagardenGREwarose-tree，infullblossom，andintheprettiestofalltheroseslivedanelf.Hewassuchalittleweething，thatnohumaneyecouldseehim.Behindeachleafoftherosehehadasleepingchamber.Hewasaswellformedandasbeautifulasalittlechildcouldbe，andhadwingsthatreachedfromhisshoulderstohisfeet.Oh，whatsweetfragrancetherewasinhischambers！andhowcleanandbeautifulwerethewalls！fortheyweretheblushingleavesoftherose.Duringthewholedayheenjoyedhimselfinthewarmsunshine，flewfromflowertoflower，anddancedonthewingsoftheflyingbutterflies.Thenhetookitintohisheadtomeasurehowmanystepshewouldhavetogothroughtheroadsandcross-roadsthatareontheleafofalinden-tree.Whatwecalltheveinsonaleaf，hetookforroads；ay，andverylongroadstheywereforhim；forbeforehehadhalffinishedhistask，thesunwentdown：hehadcommencedhisworktoolate.Itbecameverycold，thedewfell，andthewindblew；sohethoughtthebestthinghecoulddowouldbetoreturnhome.Hehurriedhimselfasmuchashecould；buthefoundtherosesallclosedup，andhecouldnotgetin；notasinglerosestoodopen.Thepoorlittleelfwasverymuchfrightened.Hehadneverbeforebeenoutatnight，buthadalwaysslumberedsecretlybehindthewarmrose-leaves.Oh，thiswouldcertainlybehisdeath.Attheotherendofthegarden，heknewtherewasanarbor，overgrownwithbeautifulhoney-suckles.Theblossomslookedlikelargepaintedhorns；andhethoughttohimself，hewouldgoandsleepinoneofthesetillthemorning.Heflewthither；but“hush！”twopeoplewereinthearbor，ahandsomeyoungmanandabeautifullady.Theysatsidebyside，andwishedthattheymightneverbeobligedtopart.Theylovedeachothermuchmorethanthebestchildcanloveitsfatherandmother.“Butwemustpart，”saidtheyoungman； “yourbrotherdoesnotlikeourengagement，andthereforehesendsmesofarawayonbusiness，overmountainsandseas.Farewell，mysweetbride；forsoyouaretome.”Andthentheykissedeachother，andthegirlwept，andgavehimarose；butbeforeshedidso，shepressedakissuponitsoferventlythatthefloweropened.Thenthelittleelfflewin，andleanedhisheadonthedelicate，fragrantwalls.Herehecouldplainlyhearthemsay， “Farewell，farewell；”andhefeltthattherosehadbeenplacedontheyoungmansbreast.Oh，howhisheartdidbeat！Thelittleelfcouldnotgotosleep，itthumpedsoloudly.Theyoungmantookitoutashewalkedthroughthedarkwoodalone，andkissedtheflowersooftenandsoviolently，thatthelittleelfwasalmostcrushed.Hecouldfeelthroughtheleafhowhotthelipsoftheyoungmanwere，andtherosehadopened，asiffromtheheatofthenoondaysun.therecameanotherman，wholookedgloomyandwicked.Hewasthewickedbrotherofthebeautifulmaiden.Hedrewoutasharpknife，andwhiletheotherwaskissingtherose，thewickedmanstabbedhimtodeath；thenhecutoffhishead，andburieditwiththebodyinthesoftearthunderthelinden-tree.“Nowheisgone，andwillsoonbeforgotten，”thoughtthewickedbrother； “hewillnevercomebackagain.Hewasgoingonalongjourneyovermountainsandseas；itiseasyforamantolosehislifeinsuchajourney.Mysisterwillsupposeheisdead；forhecannotcomeback，andshewillnotdaretoquestionmeabouthim.”thenhescatteredthedryleavesoverthelightearthwithhisfoot，andwenthomethroughthedarkness；buthewentnotalone，ashethought，thelittleelfaccompaniedhim.Hesatinadryrolled-uplinden-leaf，whichhadfallenfromthetreeontothewickedmanshead，ashewasdiggingthegrave.Thehatwasontheheadnow，whichmadeitverydark，andthelittleelfshudderedwithfrightandindignationatthewickeddeed.Itwasthedawnofmorningbeforethewickedmanreachedhome；hetookoffhishat，andwentintohissistersroom.Therelaythebeautiful，bloominggirl，dreamingofhimwhomshelovedso，andwhowasnow，shesupposed，travellingfarawayovermountainandsea.Herwickedbrotherstoppedoverher，andlaughedhideously，asfiendsonlycanlaugh.Thedryleaffelloutofhishairuponthecounterpane；buthedidnotnoticeit，andwenttogetalittlesleepduringtheearlymorninghours.Buttheelfslippedoutofthewitheredleaf，placedhimselfbytheearofthesleepinggirl，andtoldher，asinadream，ofthehorridmurder；describedtheplacewhereherbrotherhadslainherlover，andburiedhisbody；andtoldherofthelinden-tree，infullblossom，thatstoodcloseby.“ThatyoumaynotthinkthisisonlyadreamthatIhavetoldyou，”hesaid， “youwillfindonyourbedawitheredleaf.”thensheawoke，andfounditthere.Oh，whatbittertearssheshed！andshecouldnotopenherhearttoanyoneforrelief.thewindowstoodopenthewholeday，andthelittleelfcouldeasilyhavereachedtheroses，oranyoftheflowers；buthecouldnotfinditinhishearttoleaveonesoafflicted.Inthewindowstoodabushbearingmonthlyroses.Heseatedhimselfinoneoftheflowers，andgazedonthepoorgirl.Herbrotheroftencameintotheroom，andwouldbequitecheerful，inspiteofhisbaseconduct；soshedarenotsayawordtohimofherheartsgrief.Assoonasnightcameon，sheslippedoutofthehouse，andwentintothewood，tothespotwherethelinden-treestood；andafterremovingtheleavesfromtheearth，sheturneditup，andtherefoundhimwhohadbeenmurdered.Oh，howsheweptandprayedthatshealsomightdie！Gladlywouldshehavetakenthebodyhomewithher；butthatwasimpossible；soshetookupthepoorheadwiththeclosedeyes，kissedthecoldlips，andshookthemouldoutofthebeautifulhair.“Iwillkeepthis，”saidshe；andassoonasshehadcoveredthebodyagainwiththeearthandleaves，shetooktheheadandalittlesprigofjasminethatbloomedinthewood，nearthespotwherehewasburied，andcarriedthemhomewithher.Assoonasshewasinherroom，shetookthelargestflower-potshecouldfind，andinthissheplacedtheheadofthedeadman，covereditupwithearth，andplantedthetwigofjasmineinit.“Farewell，farewell，”whisperedthelittleelf.Hecouldnotanylongerenduretowitnessallthisagonyofgrief，hethereforeflewawaytohisownroseinthegarden.Buttherosewasfaded；onlyafewdryleavesstillclungtotheGREenhedgebehindit.“Alas！howsoonallthatisgoodandbeautifulpassesaway，”sighedtheelf.Afterawhilehefoundanotherrose，whichbecamehishome，foramongitsdelicatefragrantleaveshecoulddwellinsafety.Everymorningheflewtothewindowofthepoorgirl，andalwaysfoundherweepingbytheflowerpot.Thebittertearsfelluponthejasminetwig，andeachday，asshebecamepalerandpaler，thesprigappearedtogrowGREenerandfresher.Oneshootafteranothersproutedforth，andlittlewhitebudsblossomed，whichthepoorgirlfondlykissed.Butherwickedbrotherscoldedher，andaskedherifshewasgoingmad.Hecouldnotimaginewhyshewasweepingoverthatflower-pot，anditannoyedhim.Hedidnotknowwhoseclosedeyeswerethere，norwhatredlipswerefadingbeneaththeearth.Andonedayshesatandleanedherheadagainsttheflower-pot，andthelittleelfoftherosefoundherasleep.Thenheseatedhimselfbyherear，talkedtoherofthateveninginthearbor，ofthesweetperfumeoftherose，andthelovesoftheelves.Sweetlyshedreamed，andwhileshedreamt，herlifepassedawaycalmlyandgently，andherspiritwaswithhimwhomsheloved，inheaven.Andthejasmineopeneditslargewhitebells，andspreadforthitssweetfragrance；ithadnootherwayofshowingitsgriefforthedead.Butthewickedbrotherconsideredthebeautifulbloomingplantashisownproperty，lefttohimbyhissister，andheplaceditinhissleepingroom，closebyhisbed，foritwasverylovelyinappearance，andthefragrancesweetanddelightful.Thelittleelfoftherosefollowedit，andflewfromflowertoflower，tellingeachlittlespiritthatdweltinthemthestoryofthemurderedyoungman，whoseheadnowformedpartoftheearthbeneaththem，andofthewickedbrotherandthepoorsister.“Weknowit，”saideachlittlespiritintheflowers， “weknowit，forhavewenotsprungfromtheeyesandlipsofthemurderedone.Weknowit，weknowit，”andtheflowersnoddedwiththeirheadsinapeculiarmanner.Theelfoftherosecouldnotunderstandhowtheycouldrestsoquietlyinthematter，soheflewtothebees，whoweregatheringhoney，andtoldthemofthewickedbrother.Andthebeestoldittotheirqueen，whocommandedthatthenextmorningtheyshouldgoandkillthemurderer.Butduringthenight，thefirstafterthesistersdeath，whilethebrotherwassleepinginhisbed，closetowherehehadplacedthefragrantjasmine，everyflowercupopened，andinvisiblythelittlespiritsstoleout，armedwithpoisonousspears.Theyplacedthemselvesbytheearofthesleeper，toldhimdreadfuldreamsandthenflewacrosshislips，andprickedhistonguewit