安徒生童話:The Portuguese Duck在鴨場裏

The Portuguese Duck

by Hans Christian Andersen（1861）

A DUCK once arrived from Portugal， but there were some who said she came from Spain， which is almost the same thing. At all events， she was called the “Portuguese，” and she laid eggs， was killed， and cooked， and there was an end of her. But the ducklings which crept forth from the eggs were also called “Portuguese，” and about that there may be some question. But of all the family one only remained in the duckyard， which may be called a farmyard， as the chickens were admitted， and the cock strutted about in a very hostile manner. “He annoys me with his loud crowing，” said the Portuguese duck； “but， still， he's a handsome bird， there's no denying that， although he's not a drake. He ought to moderate his voice， like those little birds who are singing in the lime-trees over there in our neighbor's garden， but that is an art only acquired in polite society. How sweetly they sing there； it is quite a pleasure to listen to them！ I call it Portuguese singing. If I had only such a little singing-bird， I'd be kind and good as a mother to him， for it's in my nature， in my Portuguese blood.”

While she was speaking， one of the little singing-birds came tumbling head over heels from the roof into the yard. The cat was after him， but he had escaped from her with a broken wing， and so came tumbling into the yard. “That's just like the cat， she's a villain，” said the Portuguese duck. “I remember her ways when I had children of my own. How can such a creature be allowed to live， and wander about upon the roofs. I don't think they allow such things in Portugal.” She pitied the little singing-bird， and so did all the other ducks who were not Portuguese.

“Poor little creature！” they said， one after another， as they came up. “We can't sing， certainly； but we have a sounding-board， or something of the kind， within us； we can feel that， though we don't talk about it.”

“But I can talk，” said the Portuguese duck； “and I'll do something for the little fellow； it's my duty；” and she stepped into the water-trough， and beat her wings upon the water so strongly that the bird was nearly drowned by a shower-bath； but the duck meant it kindly. “That is a good deed，” she said； “I hope the others will take example by it.”

“Tweet， tweet！” said the little bird， for one of his wings being broken， he found it difficult to shake himself； but he quite understood that the bath was meant kindly， and he said， “You are very kind-hearted， madam；” but he did not wish for a second bath.

“I have never thought about my heart，” replied the Portuguese duck， “but I know that I love all my fellow-creatures， except the cat， and nobody can expect me to love her， for she ate up two of my ducklings. But pray make yourself at home； it is easy to make one's self comfortable. I am myself from a foreign country， as you may see by my feathery dress. My drake is a native of these parts； he's not of my race； but I am not proud on that account. If any one here can understand you， I may say positively I am that person.”

“She's quite full of 'Portulak，'” said a little common duck， who was witty. All the common ducks considered the word “Portulak” a good joke， for it sounded like Portugal. They nudged each other， and said， “Quack！ that was witty！”

then the other ducks began to notice the little bird. “The Portuguese had certainly a GREat flow of language，” they said to the little bird. “For our part we don't care to fill our beaks with such long words， but we sympathize with you quite as much. If we don't do anything else， we can walk about with you everywhere， and we think that is the best thing we can do.”

“You have a lovely voice，” said one of the eldest ducks； “it must be GREat satisfaction to you to be able to give so much pleasure as you do. I am certainly no judge of your singing so I keep my beak shut， which is better than talking nonsense， as others do.”

“Don't plague him so，” interposed the Portuguese duck； “he requires rest and nursing. My little singing-bird do you wish me to prepare another bath for you？”

“Oh， no！ no！ pray let me dry，” implored the little bird.

“the water-cure is the only remedy for me， when I am not well，” said the Portuguese. “Amusement， too， is very beneficial. The fowls from the neighborhood will soon be here to pay you a visit. There are two Cochin Chinese amongst them； they wear feathers on their legs， and are well educated. They have been brought from a GREat distance， and consequently I treat them with greater respect than I do the others.”

then the fowls arrived， and the cock was polite enough to-day to keep from being rude. “You are a real songster，” he said， “you do as much with your little voice as it is possible to do； but there requires more noise and shrillness in any one who wishes it to be known who he is.”

the two Chinese were quite enchanted with the appearance of the singing-bird. His feathers had been much ruffled by his bath， so that he seemed to them quite like a tiny Chinese fowl. “He's charming，” they said to each other， and began a conversation with him in whispers， using the most aristocratic Chinese dialect： “We are of the same race as yourself，” they said. “The ducks， even the Portuguese， are all aquatic birds， as you must have noticed. You do not know us yet，—very few know us， or give themselves the trouble to make our acquaintance， not even any of the fowls， though we are born to occupy a higher grade in society than most of them. But that does not disturb us， we quietly go on in our own way among the rest， whose ideas are certainly not ours； for we look at the bright side of things， and only speak what is good， although that is sometimes very difficult to find where none exists. Except ourselves and the cock there is not one in the yard who can be called talented or polite. It cannot even be said of the ducks， and we warn you， little bird， not to trust that one yonder， with the short tail feathers， for she is cunning； that curiously marked one， with the crooked stripes on her wings， is a mischief-maker， and never lets any one have the last word， though she is always in the wrong. That fat duck yonder speaks evil of every one， and that is against our principles. If we have nothing good to tell， we close our beaks. The Portuguese is the only one who has had any education， and with whom we can associate， but she is passionate， and talks too much about 'Portugal.'”

“I wonder what those two Chinese are whispering about，” whispered one duck to another； “they are always doing it， and it annoys me. We never speak to them.”

Now the drake came up， and he thought the little singing-bird was a sparrow. “Well， I don't understand the difference，” he said； “it appears to me all the same. He's only a plaything， and if people will have playthings， why let them， I say.”

“Don't take any notice of what he says，” whispered the Portuguese； “he's very well in matters of business， and with him business is placed before everything. But now I shall lie down and have a little rest. It is a duty we owe to ourselves that we may be nice and fat when we come to be embalmed with sage and onions and apples.” So she laid herself down in the sun and winked with one eye； she had a very comfortable place， and felt so comfortable that she fell asleep. The little singing-bird busied himself for some time with his broken wing， and at last he lay down， too， quite close to his protectress. The sun shone warm and bright， and he found out that it was a very good place. But the fowls of the neighborhood were all awake， and， to tell the truth， they had paid a visit to the duckyard， simply and solely to find food for themselves. The Chinese were the first to leave， and the other fowls soon followed them.

the witty little duck said of the Portuguese， that the old lady was getting quite a “doting ducky，” All the other ducks laughed at this. “Doting ducky，” they whispered. “Oh， that's too 'witty！'” And then they repeated the former joke about “Portulak，” and declared it was most amusing. Then they all lay down to have a nap.

they had been lying asleep for some time， when suddenly something was thrown into the yard for them to eat. It came down with such a bang， that the whole company started up and clapped their wings. The Portuguese awoke too， and rushed over to the other side： in so doing she trod upon the little singing-bird.

“Tweet，” he cried； “you trod very hard upon me， madam.”

“Well， then， why do you lie in my way？” she retorted， “you must not be so touchy. I have nerves of my own， but I do not cry 'tweet.'”

“Don't be angry，” said the little bird； “the 'tweet' slipped out of my beak unawares.”

the Portuguese did not listen to him， but began eating as fast as she could， and made a good meal. When she had finished， she lay down again， and the little bird， who wished to be amiable， began to sing.

從葡萄牙來了一隻母雞，有人說是從西班牙來的，關係不大，她被人稱爲葡萄牙鴨。她生了蛋，被人宰了，做成了一道菜。這便是她一生的經歷。所有從她的蛋裏爬出來的，都被叫做葡萄牙鴨，這頗爲重要。現在這一族僅僅只剩下一隻留在鴨場裏了。這個地方雞也可以進去，而且就有一隻公雞在裏面不可一世地到處闖蕩着。“他那猛狠的啼聲很攪擾我，”葡萄牙鴨說道，“可是他很漂亮，誰也不能否認，儘管他並不是一隻公鴨。他應該穩健一點兒，不過穩健是一種藝術，它要求更高層次的教養。鄰家花園裏的椴樹上的那些會唱歌的小鳥就有這樣的教養。他們唱得多動聽啊！要是我有這麼一隻小鳥，那我真願意做他的媽媽，又盡心又善良，我的葡萄牙血液裏就有這種感情。”就在她說這話的當兒來了一隻小鳥。他從屋頂上頭朝下落下來。貓追他，但是他逃脫了，一隻翅膀骨折了，掉到了鴨場裏。“貓性難改，這壞蛋！”葡萄牙鴨說道，“打從我自己有小鴨的時候起，我就知道他了！這麼一個玩意兒，竟被允許在屋頂上生存橫行！我想在葡萄牙是找不到的。”

她很可憐這隻會唱歌的小鳥，別的不是葡萄牙鴨的鴨子也很憐憫他。“可憐的小傢伙，”他們說道，一隻又一隻地走了過來。“誠然我們自己不唱歌，”他們說道，“但是我們有着內在的唱歌的本能，或者類似本能的某種東西。我們能感到這一點，儘管我們沒有用嘴講過它。”“那麼我要講講它，”葡萄牙鴨說道，“我要爲此做點甚麼，這是一個鴨子的責任！”於是她跳進水槽裏，拍打起來。這樣一來，她那一陣急水差點把那會唱歌的小鳥淹死，然而，本意是好的。“這是一種善行，”她說道，“別的鴨子可以看着，照着做。”“唧！”小鳥叫道，他的一隻翅膀骨折了，要把身上的水抖掉很難。但是他很懂得這次撲水完全是善意的。“您的心腸太好了，夫人！”他說道，但是請求她不要再拍打了。“我從來沒有考慮過我的心腸，”葡萄牙鴨說道，“但是我知道，我喜愛我身邊的一切生靈。那貓除外，誰也不能要求我喜愛它！他已經吃了我的兩個孩子了。不過，請把這裏看成就是你自己的家吧，這是可以的。我自己就是外邊來的，您瞧我的儀態和這一身羽毛衣着便看得出來。我的公鴨是本地生的，沒有我這樣的血統，不過我並不因此而感到不可一世！——如果這裏面有誰瞭解您的話，那我敢說便是我了。”“他的嗉囔裏全是葡萄拉克1，”一隻很機靈的普通的小鴨子說道。其他的普通鴨子覺得“葡萄拉克”這個字眼高明極了，它的讀音像葡萄牙。他們擠到一起“嘎”地叫起來，他真是機靈透了。之後，他們便和那隻會唱歌的小鳥聊起來了。“那隻葡萄牙鴨確實能說會道，”他們說道。“我們嘴裏沒有那麼多大字眼，但是我們的同情心卻和她一樣。如果我們不能爲您做點甚麼，那我們便悄悄走開。我們覺得這是最好的。”“您有很美妙的聲音，”一隻年長的鴨子說道，“您一定有很好的良知，使大家都愉快，就像您所做的那樣。我一點兒也不能動嘴！所以我便閉上嘴巴。比起許多別的對您說許多蠢話來，這要好得多。”“別折磨他了！”葡萄牙鴨說道，“他需要休息，需要護理。會唱歌的小鳥，要我再給您拍點水嗎？”“啊，別！讓我乾乾的吧！”他說道。“水療對我是最有效的，”葡萄牙鴨說道，“玩耍玩耍也是很不錯的！現在鄰舍的雞快來串門了，那是兩隻中國雞。他們穿的是燈籠褲，很有教養。他們是從外國來的，我對他們很尊敬。”

母雞來了，那隻公雞也來了。他今天很有禮貌，沒有像往日那麼粗野。“您真是一隻會唱歌的鳥兒，”他說道，“您用您那小小的聲音，能唱出這樣一個小聲音能唱的一切。不過氣還得足一點，好讓別人一聽便知道這是一隻公鳥。”

那兩隻中國雞看到會唱歌的小鳥十分高興。捱了一場水澆以後，他看去羽毛還是那麼蓬鬆，讓他們覺得他很像一隻中國小雞。“他真好看！”於是他們便和他交談起來；他們用喃喃細聲和帶呸呸聲的上流中國語說話。“我們和您是一類的。鴨子，即便是葡萄牙的，是屬於泅水的禽類，就像您肯定已經注意到了的那樣。您還不瞭解我們，可是又有多少人瞭解我們或者願意找那個麻煩來瞭解我們呢！沒有，就連母雞裏都沒有！雖然我們比起別的大多數來，是蹲在更高一些的桿子上。——這沒有甚麼，和他們在一起，可我們安安靜靜地度我們的日子。別的那些原則和我們的不一樣。不過我們總只是看好的方面，只講好的。可是要從不存在好的當中去找好的卻是很難的。整個雞棚裏，除了我們兩個和這隻公雞外，其餘全都是些沒有天賦的，不過都很誠實。鴨場里居住的可不能這麼說。我們要警告您，會唱歌的小鳥！別相信那隻禿尾巴母鴨，她很狡猾。那隻身上有花點、翅膀上有翼斑的，她可是個專門找碴兒的，儘管她總是錯的，可是她從來不承認！——那隻胖鴨子盡說人的壞話。這是我們所反對的。一個人要是不能講點好的，那就應該閉上自己的嘴巴。那隻葡萄牙鴨是唯一一隻有點教養的，是可以與之來往的。不過她太重感情，講葡萄牙講得太多了。”“那兩隻中國雞怎麼有那麼多可以囉嗦的！”兩隻鴨子說道，“她們叫我厭煩；我從來沒有和她們講過話。”

現在公鴨來了！他以爲會唱歌的小鳥是一隻麻雀。“是呀，我分辨不出來，”他說道，“不過也全一樣！他是供人玩的那一類的，有他也行，沒有也行。”“別在意他說些甚麼！”葡萄牙鴨低聲說道。“他做生意很受人看重，做生意是首要的事情。不過現在我要躺下休息了。很有這種必要，這樣才能長得肥肥胖胖的，到以後才能叫人在我肚裏填上蘋果，在我身上塗上梅子醬2.”

之後，她便在太陽地裏躺下了，眨着一隻眼睛。她躺得十分自在，她感覺舒服得很，她睡得很香甜。會唱歌的小鳥用嘴啄啄他那折斷了的翅膀，靠着他的那位女的保護人躺下去。太陽曬着，很溫和很舒服，這是一個存身的好地方。鄰舍的母雞散開找食去了，其實他們來串門是專門爲了來尋食物的。那兩隻中國雞先走開了，接着其他的也走掉了。那隻機靈的小鴨說葡萄牙鴨這老太婆馬上要“返老還童”了。於是其他的鴨便都咶咶笑了起來，“返老還童！他真是機靈透了！”之後他們又重複了先前的那詼諧話：“葡萄拉克！”非常地有趣。之後他們也躺下了。

他們躺了一會兒。忽然給鴨場裏拋了一些吃的東西，響了一聲。於是所有正在睡覺的鴨子一下子都跳起來，拍着翅膀。那葡萄牙鴨也醒來，翻了個身，死死地把那會唱歌的小鳥壓在身下。“唧！”他叫了一聲，“您壓得太狠了，夫人！”“您爲甚麼躺在那裏擋住我，”她說道，“您不必那麼嬌氣。我也有神經，可是我從不唧唧叫。”“別生氣！”小鳥說道，“那聲唧是我脫口而出的！”葡萄牙鴨不聽他的，而是奔到吃東西的那邊去，美美地吃了一頓。吃完之後，她躺下了。會唱歌的小鳥過來了，想表現得好些：

的裏，的裏！

讚美你的好心，我要時時歌唱的裏！

飛得遠遠的，遠遠的，遠遠的。“現在吃飽我要休息了，”她說道，“您得隨着這裏的習慣！現在我要睡了！”

會唱歌的小鳥感到十分驚訝，因爲他實在是好意。夫人後來醒過來的時候，他站在她的身前，口裏銜着他找到的一粒麥子，他把它放在她的前面。但是她睡得不好，她自然很不高興。“您可以把它給一隻小雞，”她說道，“別老在我身邊纏着我。”“可是您生我的氣啦，”他說道，“我做了甚麼啦？”“做了甚麼！”葡萄牙鴨說道，“這樣的詞是很不高雅的，我提醒您注意。”“昨天這裏是大晴天，”小鳥說道，“今天這裏又黑又陰！我心裏實在難過。”“您看來不會計算時間，”葡萄牙鴨說道，“一天還沒有過完呢。別站在那兒傻里傻氣的！”“您那麼生氣地看着我，一雙眼睛就像我落到鴨場的時候惡狠狠地望着我的那雙一個樣。”“太無理了！”葡萄牙鴨說道，“您把我和貓那強盜比！我的身軀裏連一滴壞血都沒有。我照料您，教您懂得禮貌。”之後，她把會唱歌的小鳥的頭咬掉下來，他死了。“怎麼回事！”她說道，“他怎麼經不起！是啊，就是說他不配生存在這個世上！我曾經像一個母親一樣地照料他。我知道！因爲我有一顆好心。”

鄰舍的公雞把頭伸進鴨場裏，使足了蒸汽機車那樣的氣力叫起來。“瞧您這麼一叫把一隻鳥的命叫掉了！”她說道，“這完全是您的過錯。他的頭掉了，我的也差一點掉了。”“他躺那裏就那麼大一點兒，”公雞說道。“請您尊重他一點好不好？”葡萄牙鴨說道，“他有音調，他會唱歌，他有教養！他可愛溫柔。在動物中，在所謂的人當中，這都是很合適的。”

所有的鴨子都聚集到那隻死去的會唱歌的小鳥周圍，或者出於嫉妒，或者出於同情，他們都是非常重感情的。而由於這裏並沒有甚麼可以嫉妒的，所以他們表現的都是同情的感情，連那兩隻中國雞都如此。“像這樣會唱歌的小鳥，我們永遠也不會再有了！他差不多就是一隻中國鳥了，”他們哭了起來。一個個都咯咯起來，所有的母雞都咯咯叫。可是鴨子走開了，一個個都紅着眼圈。“我們都是好心的，”他們說道，“這一點誰也不能否認。”“好心！”葡萄牙鴨說道，“是啊，我們有——差不多和在萄葡牙一個樣！”“現在讓我們往嗉囔裏裝點甚麼東西吧！”公鴨說道，“這纔是最重要的！一件小玩意兒摔碎了，可我們依然還有呢。”

1是從馬齒莧的拉丁名Portulaca　oleracea轉化出來的詞，意思是低級植物，劣等飼料。這個字又與萄葡牙一詞諧音。

2在西菜中做烤鴨或烤鵝時，多喜歡在鴨鵝肚子裏填上蘋果。