the Bell-Deep

by Hans Christian Andersen（1857）

　　ING-DONG！ ding-dong！“ It sounds up from the ”bell-deep“ in the Odense-Au. Every child in the old town of Odense， on the island of Funen， knows the Au， which washes the gardens round about the town， and flows on under the wooden bridges from the dam to the water-mill. In the Au grow the yellow water-lilies and brown feathery reeds； the dark velvety flag grows there， high and thick； old and decayed willows， slanting and tottering， hang far out over the stream beside the monk's meadow and by the bleaching ground； but opposite there are gardens upon gardens， each different from the rest， some with pretty flowers and bowers like little dolls' pleasure grounds， often displaying cabbage and other kitchen plants； and here and there the gardens cannot be seen at all， for the GREat elder trees that spread themselves out by the bank， and hang far out over the streaming waters， which are deeper here and there than an oar can fathom. Opposite the old nunnery is the deepest place， which is called the ”bell-deep，“ and there dwells the old water spirit， the ”Au-mann.“ This spirit sleeps through the day while the sun shines down upon the water； but in starry and moonlit nights he shows himself. He is very old. Grandmother says that she has heard her own grandmother tell of him； he is said to lead a solitary life， and to have nobody with whom he can converse save the great old church Bell. Once the Bell hung in the church tower； but now there is no trace left of the tower or of the church， which was called St. Alban's.

　　“Ding-dong！ ding-dong！” sounded the Bell， when the tower still stood there； and one evening， while the sun was setting， and the Bell was swinging away bravely， it broke loose and came flying down through the air， the brilliant metal shining in the ruddy beam.

　　“Ding-dong！ ding-dong！ Now I'll retire to rest！” sang the Bell， and flew down into the Odense-Au， where it is deepest； and that is why the place is called the “bell-deep.”

　　But the Bell got neither rest nor sleep. Down in the Au-mann's haunt it sounds and rings， so that the tones sometimes pierce upward through the waters； and many people maintain that its strains forebode the death of some one； but that is not true， for the Bell is only talking with the Au-mann， who is now no longer alone.

　　And what is the Bell telling？ It is old， very old， as we have already observed； it was there long before grandmother's grandmother was born； and yet it is but a child in comparison with the Au-mann， who is quite an old quiet personage， an oddity， with his hose of eel-skin， and his scaly Jacket with the yellow lilies for buttons， and a wreath of reed in his hair and seaweed in his beard； but he looks very pretty for all that.

　　What the Bell tells？ To repeat it all would require years and days； for year by year it is telling the old stories， sometimes short ones， sometimes long ones， according to its whim； it tells of old times， of the dark hard times， thus：

　　“In the church of St. Alban， the monk had mounted up into the tower. He was young and handsome， but thoughtful exceedingly. He looked through the loophole out upon the Odense-Au， when the bed of the water was yet broad， and the monks' meadow was still a lake. He looked out over it， and over the rampart， and over the nuns' hill opposite， where the convent lay， and the light gleamed forth from the nun's cell. He had known the nun right well， and he thought of her， and his heart beat quicker as he thought. Ding-dong！ ding-dong！”

　　Yes， this was the story the Bell told.

　　“Into the tower came also the dapper man-servant of the bishop； and when I， the Bell， who am made of metal， rang hard and loud， and swung to and fro， I might have beaten out his brains. He sat down close under me， and played with two little sticks as if they had been a stringed instrument； and he sang to it. 'Now I may sing it out aloud， though at other times I may not whisper it. I may sing of everything that is kept concealed behind lock and bars. Yonder it is cold and wet. The rats are eating her up alive！ Nobody knows of it！ Nobody hears of it！ Not even now， for the bell is ringing and singing its loud Ding-dong， ding-dong！'

　　“there was a King in those days. They called him Canute. He bowed himself before bishop and monk； but when he offended the free peasants with heavy taxes and hard words， they seized their weapons and put him to flight like a wild beast. He sought shelter in the church， and shut gate and door behind him. The violent band surrounded the church； I heard tell of it. The crows， ravens and magpies started up in terror at the yelling and shouting that sounded around. They flew into the tower and out again， they looked down upon the throng below， and they also looked into the windows of the church， and screamed out aloud what they saw there. King Canute knelt before the altar in prayer； his brothers Eric and Benedict stood by him as a guard with drawn swords； but the King's servant， the treacherous Blake， betrayed his master. The throng in front of the church knew where they could hit the King， and one of them flung a stone through a pane of glass， and the King lay there dead！ The cries and screams of the savage horde and of the birds sounded through the air， and I joined in it also； for I sang 'Ding-dong！ ding-dong！'

　　“the church bell hangs high， and looks far around， and sees the birds around it， and understands their language. The wind roars in upon it through windows and loopholes； and the wind knows everything， for he gets it from the air， which encircles all things， and the church bell understands his tongue， and rings it out into the world， 'Ding-dong！ ding-dong！'

　　“But it was too much for me to hear and to know； I was not able any longer to ring it out. I became so tired， so heavy， that the beam broke， and I flew out into the gleaming Au， where the water is deepest， and where the Au-mann lives， solitary and alone； and year by year I tell him what I have heard and what I know. Ding-dong！ ding-dong”

　　Thus it sounds complainingly out of the bell-deep in the Odense-Au. That is what grandmother told us.

　　But the schoolmaster says that there was not any bell that rung down there， for that it could not do so； and that no Au-mann dwelt yonder， for there was no Au-mann at all！ And when all the other church bells are sounding sweetly， he says that it is not really the bells that are sounding， but that it is the air itself which sends forth the notes； and grandmother said to us that the Bell itself said it was the air who told it to him， consequently they are aGREed on that point， and this much is sure.

　　“Be cautious， cautious， and take good heed to thyself，” they both say.

　　the air knows everything. It is around us， it is in us， it talks of our thoughts and of our deeds， and it speaks longer of them than does the Bell down in the depths of the Odense-Au where the Au-mann dwells. It rings it out in the vault of heaven， far， far out， forever and ever， till the heaven bells sound “Ding-dong！ ding-dong！”

　　“叮噹！叮噹！”奥登斯钟渊那边传来了清脆的声音——是一条甚么样的河？——奥登斯城的孩子们个个都知道，它绕着花园流过，从木桥下边，经过水闸流到水磨。河里生长着黄色的水浮莲，带棕色绒毛的芦苇，像绒一样的深褐色香蒲，又高又大；老朽绽裂的柳树，摇摇晃晃，歪歪扭扭，枝叶垂到水面修道院沼泽这边，垂到漂洗人的草地1旁边。但是正对面却是一个挨着一个的花园，花园与花园又各不相同。有的有盛开的美丽花朵和供乘凉的亭子，整洁漂亮，就像玩具娃娃的小屋。有的园子里又全是白菜、青菜，或者根本就看不见园子，一大片接骨木丛的枝叶垂着盖住了流水，有些很深的河段，用桨都够不着底。老修女庵的外面最深，这地方叫做钟渊，河爷爷就住在那底下；白天太阳穿过水面射来的时候他睡大觉，到了月明星稀的夜里，他便出来了。他已经很老很老了；外祖母说，她从她的外祖母那儿就听说过他，他过着孤寂的生活，除了那口古老的大钟之外，连个和他说话的人都没有。那钟一度曾经挂在教堂顶上，现在，那座被叫做圣阿尔巴尼的教堂以及那钟塔，都已经不见踪影了。“叮噹！叮噹！”，钟塔还在的时候，钟就这样响。有一天傍晚，太阳落下去的时候，钟摇晃得厉害极了，挣断了索子，穿过天空飞了出去；那亮闪闪的铁在猩红的晚霞中十分耀眼。“叮噹！叮噹！现在我要去睡觉了！”钟唱着，飞到了奥登斯河，落进了最深的河段，那块地方因此便被称做钟渊。可是在那儿它并没有入睡，没有能得到休息。在河爷爷那里它仍在鸣响，这样，上面的许多人听到水下传来的钟声时，便说，这意思是有人要死掉了。可是，它鸣响并不是因为那个，不是的，是为了给河爷爷讲故事。河爷爷现在不再寂寞了。钟讲些甚么呢？它老极了，老极了。有人说，外祖母的外祖母出生前许久许久就有它了。但是，按年龄，它在河爷爷面前还只不过是个孩子。河爷爷很老很老，安详、奇怪。他穿的是鳗鱼皮做的裤子，有鳞的鱼皮做的上衣。衣服上缀着黄色水浮莲的钮子，头发里有苇子，胡须上有浮萍，实在不好看。

　　钟讲了些甚么，要花整整一年才能重讲一遍。它总是滔滔不绝，常常在讲同一件事，一时长、一时短，全看它高兴。它讲古时候，讲艰难的世道，讲愚昧黑暗的时代。“圣阿尔巴尼教堂那口钟悬在钟塔里，一位年轻英俊的修士爬上去了，他不像别人，他沉思着。他从钟楼空窗洞朝奥登斯河那边望去，那时河面很宽，沼泽还是湖，他朝那边望去，望着那绿色的护堤墙，望着那边的那”修女坝子“，那儿有个修女庵，从庵里修女住的那间屋子的窗口透出了亮光。他先前对她很熟悉——他常常忆起往事，他的心因此便跳得特别厉害，——叮噹！叮噹！”

　　是的，钟讲的就是这样的东西。“主教的傻仆人来到了钟塔上，在我，也就是用铁铸成的又硬又重的钟，在摇晃的时候，我本可以砸碎他的前额。他紧靠我坐下，手中玩着两根签子，好像是带弦的琴。他还一面唱：”现在我敢放声高唱，唱那些平时我连哼都不敢哼的事，唱出锁在铁栅后面的一件件往事，那里又冷又潮湿，老鼠把有的人活活吃掉！这事谁也不知道，谁也没有听到过！现在也没有听到。因为铁钟在高声鸣唱，叮噹！叮噹！“”从前有一位国王，人们称他为克鲁兹，他对主教和修士恭敬万分。可是当他用过份沉重的赋税压搾汶苏塞尔一带的人民，用过份粗暴的语言辱骂他们的时候，他们拿起武器和棍棒反抗了，把他像赶野兽一样赶走。他溜进了教堂，紧紧关上门窗。愤怒的人群围在外面，我听到：鹊、乌鸦，还加上寒鸦都被叫声喊声吓坏了；它们飞进钟塔，又飞出钟塔。它们看着下面的人群，也透过教堂的窗子朝里面望，高声地叫着它们看到了甚么。克鲁兹国王跪在祭坛前祷告，他的两位兄弟艾立克2和班尼迪克特3持着出鞘的剑在保卫他。但是国王的仆人，那个不忠於他的布莱克4却出卖了自己的主人。外面的人知道可以在哪里击中他，有一个人朝窗子投进一块石头，国王倒地死了！——叫喊声从那一群疯狂的人和鸟群中响起来。我也跟着喊，我唱，我鸣响，叮噹！叮噹！“”钟挂得高高的，望着四周远近各处。鸟儿都来串门，它听得懂鸟语，风从窗洞、传声孔，从一切有缝的地方飒飒吹进去。风甚么都知道，它从天空中得到信息，它从一切生物那里瞭解一切信息，它钻进人的肺里，探到了一切声息，每一个字，每一个歎息——！空气知道它。风讲述它，教堂的钟懂得风的语言，用钟声传给全世界，叮噹！叮噹！“”我听到的知道的实在太多了，我无法把它们全传播出去！我累极了，我变得十分沉重，把木樑都拉断了。我飞出来进入明晃晃的空中，落到了河中最深、河爷爷孤孤单单居住的地方。在那里年复一年地讲我听到的我知道的东西：叮噹！叮噹！“奥登斯河钟渊那里传来的就是这样的声音，外祖母这样说。

　　可是我们的校长说：“没有甚么钟可以在河底下鸣响，它做不到！——那儿没有甚么河爷爷，因为不存在河爷爷！”所有的钟都在响亮地鸣唱，於是他便说，在响的不是钟，本来是空气在鸣响。空气是一种能传声的物体——外祖母也说，钟这么说过——在这一点上他们取得了一致意见，这是肯定无疑的！“小心点，小心点，好好小心你自己！”他们俩都这么说。

　　风知道一切。它在我们周围，它在我们体内。它讲述我们的思想和行动，它讲述得比奥登斯河河爷爷住的深渊里的钟讲述的时间还要长，它讲到广阔天空的深渊里，远极了，永远无休无止，与天国的钟“叮噹！叮噹！”地一唱一和。题注奥登斯是安徒生的故乡。这是一个关於奥登斯的民间传说。这篇童话中提到的地方都在奥登斯市内；有一些现在已经不存在了。

　　1昔日丹麦人洗完衣物后都晾在草地上，阳光对白色纤维有漂白作用。

　　2艾立克·伊尔戈兹（约1056-1103），在1095年至1103年是丹麦国王。

　　31086年在圣阿尔巴尼教堂被杀。

　　4历史事实是，在这里提到的农民暴动中布莱克自己也被杀死了。民间传说中说他出卖了克鲁兹，那是因为他名字涵义的缘故。布莱克在丹麦文中有虚伪、狡诈的意思。