Читать книгу Страшные сказки / Scary stories - Братья Гримм, Оскар Уайльд - Страница 6

There was once a little girl, very nice and very pretty, but so poor that she went barefooted all summer. And in winter she wore thick wooden shoes that chafed her ankles until they were red.

In the middle of the village lived Old Mother Shoemaker. She took some old scraps of red cloth and made them into a little pair of shoes. They were a bit clumsy, but she intended to give them to the little girl. Karen was the little girl’s name.

The first time Karen wore her new red shoes was on the very day when her mother was buried. Of course, they were not right for mourning, but they were all she had. So she put them on and walked barelegged after the plain wicker coffin.

Just then a large old carriage came by, with a large old lady inside it. She looked at the little girl and took pity upon her[19]. And she went to the parson and said:

“Give the little girl to me, and I shall take good care of her[20]”.

Karen was sure that this happened because she wore red shoes. But the old lady said the shoes were hideous, and burned them. She gave Karen new clothes. She taught Karen to read and to sew. People said she was pretty, but her mirror told her,

“You are more than pretty. You are beautiful”.

It happened that the Queen travelled through the country with her little daughter, who was a Princess. Karen went with all the people to see them at the castle. The little Princess was dressed in white. She came to the window. She didn’t wear a train[21], and she didn’t wear a gold crown. But she wore a pair of splendid red morocco shoes. Of course, they were much nicer than the ones Old Mother Shoemaker made for little Karen. There’s nothing in the world like a pair of red shoes!

When Karen was old enough, they made new clothes for her. She got new shoes. They went to the house of a thriving shoemaker, to take the measure of her little feet. In his shop were big glass cases, filled with the prettiest shoes and the shiniest boots. They looked most attractive but, the old lady did not see very well, and they did not attract her. Among the shoes there was a pair of red leather ones which were just like those the Princess had worn. How perfect they were! The shoemaker made them for the daughter of a count, but they did not quite fit her.

“They shine so brightly!” said the old lady.

“Yes, indeed they shine”, said Karen.

As the shoes fitted Karen, the old lady bought them. But she had no idea they were red.

They went to the church. Everyone looked at her feet. When she walked up the aisle to the chancel of the church, it seemed to her as if even those portraits of bygone ministers and their wives, in starched ruffs and long black gowns fixed their eyes upon her red shoes. She could think of nothing else, even when the pastor laid his hands upon her head and spoke of God and her duty as a Christian. The solemn organ rolled, the children sang sweetly, and the old choir leader sang too. But Karen thought of nothing except her red shoes.

Before the afternoon was over, the old lady heard from everyone in the parish that the shoes were red. She told Karen it was naughty to wear red shoes to church. Highly improper! In the future she will always wear black shoes to church, even though they were her old ones.

Next Sunday there was holy communion. Karen looked at her black shoes. She looked at her red ones. She looked at her red ones again – and she put them on.

It was a fair, sunny day. Karen and the old lady took the path through the cornfield, where it was rather dusty. At the church door they met an old soldier. He stood with a crutch and wore a long, curious beard. It was more reddish than white. In fact it was quite red. He bowed down to the ground, and asked the old lady to dust her shoes. Karen put out her little foot too.

“Oh, what beautiful shoes for dancing”, the soldier said. “Never come off when you dance”, he told the shoes, as he tapped the sole of each of them with his hand.

The old lady gave the soldier a penny, and went on into the church with Karen. All the people there stared at Karen’s red shoes, and all the portraits stared too. When Karen knelt at the altar rail, and even when the chalice came to her lips, she could think only of her red shoes. She forgot to sing the psalm. She forgot to say the Lord’s Prayer.

Then church was over, and the old lady got into her carriage. Karen lifted her foot to step in after her when the old soldier said,

“Oh, what beautiful shoes for dancing!”

Karen took a few dancing steps, and once her feet began to dance. It was as if the shoes controlled her. She danced round the corner of the church, she simply could not stop. The coachman ran after her, caught her, and lifted her into the carriage. But even there her feet danced so that they kicked the old lady terribly. Only when she took her shoes off her legs became still. When they got home Karen put away the shoes in a cupboard, but she often came and looked at them.

Shortly afterwards the old lady got ill. She required constant care and faithful nursing, and for this she depended on Karen. But a great ball was in the town, and Karen was invited. She looked at the old lady. The old lady will die soon in any case. Karen looked at the red shoes. She put them on. And then she went to the ball and began to dance. When she tried to turn to the right, the shoes turned to the left. When she wanted to dance up the ballroom, her shoes danced down. They danced down the stairs, into the street, and out through the gate of the town. So Karen danced everywhere, even in the wood!

Suddenly something shone through the trees, and she thought it was the moon. But it was the red-bearded soldier. He nodded and said,

“Oh, what beautiful shoes for dancing”.

She was terribly frightened, and tried to take off her shoes. She tore off her stockings, but the shoes were on her feet. And she danced over fields and valleys, in the rain and in the sun, by day and night. It was most dreadful by night. She danced over an unfenced graveyard, but the dead did not join her dance. They had better things to do. She tried to sit on a pauper’s grave, where the bitter fennel grew. But there was no rest or peace for her there. And then she danced toward the open doors of the church. She saw an angel with long white robes and wings that reached from his shoulders down to the ground. His face was grave and stern, and in his hand he held a broad, shining sword.

“You will dance!” he told her. “You will dance in your red shoes until you are pale and cold, and your flesh shrivels down to the skeleton. You will dance from door to door, and wherever there are children proud and vain you must knock at the door till they hear you, and are afraid of you. You will dance. You will dance always!”

“Have mercy upon me![22]” screamed Karen.

But she did not hear the angel’s answer. Her shoes swept her out through the gate, and across the fields, along highways and byways. She danced and danced all the time!

One morning she danced by a door she knew well. There was the sound of a hymn, and they carried out a coffin which was covered with flowers. Then she knew the old lady was dead. She was all alone in the world now, and cursed by the angel of God.

She danced and danced all the time, through the dark night. Her shoes took her through thorn and briar that scratched her until she bled. She danced across the wastelands until she came to a lonely little house. She knew that this was where the executioner lived, and she tapped with her finger on his window pane.

“Come out!” she called. “Come out! I can’t come in, for I dance all the time”.

The executioner said,

“Do you know who I am? I strike off the heads of bad people, and my ax quivers”.

“Don’t strike off my head, for then I could not repent of my sins”, said Karen. “But strike off my feet with the red shoes on them”.

She confessed her sin, and the executioner struck off her feet with the red shoes on them. The shoes danced away with her little feet, over the fields into the deep forest. But he made wooden feet and a pair of crutches for her. He taught her a hymn that prisoners sing when they are sorry for their deeds. She kissed his hand that held the ax, and went back across the wasteland.

“I suffered enough”, she said. “I shall go to the church again”.

She hobbled to church as fast as she could, but when she got there the red shoes danced in front of her, and she was frightened and turned back.

All week long she was sorry, and cried many bitter tears. But when Sunday came again she said,

“Now I think I am as good as many who sit in church and hold their heads high”.

She started out, but the moment she came to the church gate she saw her red shoes before her. More frightened than ever, she turned away, and with all her heart she really repented.

She went to the pastor’s house, and begged him to give her work as a servant. She promised to work hard, and do all that she could. Wages did not matter, if only she could have a roof over her head and be with good people. The pastor’s wife took pity on her, and gave her work at the parsonage. Karen was faithful and serious. She sat quietly in the evening, and listened to every word when the pastor read the Bible aloud. The children were devoted to her, but when they spoke of frills and furbelows, and of the beautiful queen, she shook her head.