The Tales of Hans Christian Andersen

The Flying Trunk - Den flyvende Kuffert

1838

Once there was a merchant who was so rich that he could easily have paved a whole street with silver coins and still have had enough left over to pave a little alley as well. But he didn't do anything so foolish, he made better use of his money than that. He didn't give out a copper coin without getting a silver one in return; that's how good a merchant he was, but he couldn't live forever. Der var engang en Kjøbmand, han var saa riig, at han kunde brolægge den hele Gade og næsten et lille Stræde til med Sølvpenge; men det gjorde han ikke, han vidste anderledes at bruge sine Penge, og gav han en Skilling ud, fik han en Daler igjen; saadan en Kjøbmand var han - og saa døde han.
His son inherited all his money, and he was better at spending than at saving it. Every night he attended a party or a masquerade. He made kites out of bank notes; and when he went to the beach, he didn't skim stones; no, he skimmed gold coins. In that way, the money was soon gone, and finally he had nothing but four pennies, a pair of worn-out slippers, and an old dressing gown. He lost all his friends; they didn't like to be seen with a person so curiously dressed. But one of them was kind enough to give him an old trunk and say to him, "Pack and get out." That was all very well, but he had nothing to pack, so he sat down inside the trunk himself. Sønnen fik nu alle disse Penge, og han levede lystigt, gik paa Maskerade hver Nat, gjorde Papirsdrager af Rigsdaler-Sedler og slog Smut henover Søen med Guldpenge, istedetfor med en Steen, saa kunde Pengene sagtens gaae, og det gjorde de; tilsidst eiede han ikke mere end fire Skilling, og havde ingen andre Klæder end et Par Tøfler og en gammel Sloprok. Nu brød hans Venner sig ikke længer om ham, da de jo ikke kunde gaae paa Gaden sammen, men een af den, som var god, sendte ham en gammel Kuffert og sagde: "pak ind!" ja, det var nu meget godt, men han havde ikke noget at pakke ind, saa satte han sig selv i Kufferten.
It was a strange trunk; if you pressed on the lock, then it could fly. That is what the merchant's son did, and away it carried him. Up through the chimney, up above the clouds and far, far away. The trunk creaked and groaned; its passenger was afraid that the bottom would fall out, for then he would have a nasty fall. But it didn't, the trunk flew him directly to the land of the Turks and landed. The merchant's son hid the trunk beneath some leaves in a forest and started to walk into town. No one took any notice of him, for in Turkey everyone wears a dressing gown and slippers. He met a nurse carrying a babe in her arms. "Hey, you Turkish nurse," he said, "what kind of a castle is that one, right outside the city, with windows placed so high up the walls that no one but a giant could look through them?" Det var en løierlig Kuffert. Saa snart man trykkede paa Laasen, kunde Kufferten flyve; det gjorde den, vips fløi den med ham op igjennem Skorstenen, høit op over Skyerne, længer og længer bort; det knagede i Bunden, og han var saa forskrækket, for at den skulde gaae i Stykker, for saa havde han gjort en ganske artig Volte! Gud bevar' os! og saa kom han til Tyrkernes Land. Kufferten skjulte han i Skoven, under de visne Blade og gik saa ind i Byen; det kunde han godt gjøre, for hos Tyrkerne gik jo alle ligesom han i Sloprok og Tøfler. Saa mødte han en Amme med et lille Barn. "Hør du Tyrke-Amme!" sagde han, "hvad er det for et stort Slot her tæt ved Byen, Vinduerne sidde saa høit!"
"That is where the princess lives," replied the nurse. "It has been prophesied that a lover will cause her great suffering and sorrow, that is why no one can visit her unless the king and the queen are present." "Der boer Kongens Datter!" sagde hun, "der er spaaet hende, at hun skal blive saa ulykkelig over en Kjæreste, og derfor maa der ingen komme til hende, uden Kongen og Dronningen er med!"
"Thank you," said the merchant's son. He ran back into the forest where he had hidden the trunk, climbed into it, and flew up to the roof of the palace; then he climbed through a window, in to the princess. "Tak!" sagde Kjøbmandssønnen, og saa gik han ud i Skoven, satte sig i sin Kuffert, fløi op paa Taget og krøb ind af Vinduet til Prindsessen.
She was sleeping on a sofa and looked so beautiful that the merchant's son had to kiss her. She woke up and was terrified at the sight of the strange man, but he told her that he was the God of the Turks and that he had come flying through the air to visit her. That story didn't displease her. Hun laae i Sophaen og sov; hun var saa, deilig, at Kjøbmandssønnen maatte kysse hende; hun vaagnede og blev ganske foskrækket, men han sagde, han var Tyrkeguden, som var kommen ned igjennem Luften til hende, og det syntes hun godt om.
They sat next to each other on the settee and he told her stories. He made up one about her eyes being the loveliest dark forest pools in which thoughts swam like mermaids. He told her that her forehead was a snow mountain filled with grand halls, whose walls were covered with beautiful paintings. And he told her about the storks that bring such sweet little children. Saa sad de ved Siden af hinanden, og han fortalte Historier om hendes Øine: de vare de deiligste, mørke Søer, og Tankerne svømmede der som Havfruer; og han fortalte om hendes Pande: den var et Sneebjerg med de prægtigste Sale og Billeder, og han fortalte om Storken, som bringer de søde smaa Børn.
Oh, they were delightful stories; then he proposed and she said yes. Jo, det var nogle deilige Historier! saa friede han til Prindsessen, og hun sagde strax ja!
"Come back on Saturday," she said, "then the king and queen come for afternoon tea. They will be proud that I am going to marry the God of the Turks. But make sure, sir, that you have some good fairy tales to tell them. My mother likes noble and moral stories, and my father lively ones that can make him laugh." "Men De maa komme her paa Løverdag," sagde hun, "da er Kongen og Dronningen hos mig til Theevand! de ville være meget stolte af, at jeg faaer Tyrkeguden, men see til, De kan et rigtigt deiligt Æventyr, for det holder mine Forældre særdeles meget af; min Moder vil have det moralsk og fornemt og min Fader lystigt, saa man kan lee!"
"Stories are the only wedding gift I shall bring," said the merchant's son, and smiled most pleasingly. Before they parted, the princess gave him a sword with a whole lot of gold coins attached to the hilt; and these he was in need of. "Ja, jeg bringer ingen anden Brudegave end et Eventyr!" sagde han, og saa skiltes de, men Prindsessen gav ham en Sabel, der var besat med Guldpenge, og den kunde han især bruge.
The merchant's son flew away and bought himself a new dressing gown. When he returned to the forest he started to compose the fairy tale that he would tell on Saturday. And that wasn't so easy. Nu fløi han bort, kjøbte sig en ny Sloprok og sad saa ude i Skoven og digtede paa et Eventyr, det skulde være færdigt til om Løverdagen, og det er ikke saa let endda.
But finally he was finished and Saturday came. Saa var han færdig, og saa var det Løverdag.
The king, the queen, and the whole court were having tea with the princess. They greeted him most kindly. Kongen, Dronningen og hele Hoffet ventede med Theevand hos Prindsessen. Han blev saa nydeligt modtaget!
"Now you must tell us a fairy tale," said the queen, "and I want it to be both profound and instructive." "Vil De saa fortælle et Eventyr!" sagde Dronningen, "eet, som er dybsindigt og belærende!"
"But at the same time funny," added the king. "Men som man dog kan lee af !" sagde Kongen.
"I will try," said the merchant's son. Here is his story; if you listen carefully, you will understand it: "Ja nok!" sagde han og fortalte: det maa man nu høre godt efter.
"Once upon a time there were some sulphur matches who were extremely proud because they came of such good family. Their family tree, of which each of them was a tiny splinter, had been the largest pine tree in the forest. The matches lay on a shelf between a tinderbox and an old iron pot; and to them they told the story of their childhood and youth: 'Then we lived high, so to speak. We were served diamond tea every morning and evening; it is called dew. Whenever the sun was out it shone upon us, and all the little birds had to tell us stories. We knew that we were rich, for we could afford to wear our green clothes all year round, whereas the poor beeches and oaks had to stand quite naked in the winter and freeze. Then the woodcutter came, it was a revolution! The whole family was split. The trunk of our family tree got a job as the mainmast on a full-rigged ship; he can sail around the whole world if he feels like it. We are not sure what happened to the branches, but we got the job of lighting fires for the mean and base multitudes; that is how such noble and aristocratic things as we are ended up in the kitchen.' "Der var engang et Bundt Svovlstikker, de vare saa overordentligt stolte paa det, fordi de vare af høi Herkomst; deres Stamtræ, det vil sige, det store Fyrretræ, de hver var en lille Pind af, havde været et stort gammelt Træ i Skoven. Svovlstikkerne laae nu paa Hylden mellem et Fyrtøi og en gammel Jerngryde, og for dem fortalte de om deres Ungdom. 'Ja, da vi vare paa den grønne Green!' sagde de, 'da vare vi rigtignok paa en grøn Green! hver Morgen og Aften Diamant-Thee, det var Duggen, hele Dagen havde vi Solskin, naar Solen skinnede, og alle de smaa Fugle maatte fortælle os Historier. Vi kunde godt mærke, at vi ogsaa vare rige, for Løvtræerne de vare kun klædt paa om Sommeren, men vor Familie havde Raad til grønne Klæder baade Sommer og Vinter. Men saa kom Brændehuggerne, det var den store Revolution, og vor Familie blev splittet ad; Stamherren fik Plads som Stormast paa et prægtigt Skib, der kunde seile Verden rundt, dersom det vilde, de andre Grene kom andre Steder, og vi have nu det Hverv at tænde Lyset for den nedrige Mængde; derfor ere vi fornemme Folk komne her i Kjøkkenet.'
'My life has been quite different,' said the iron pot that stood on the shelf beside the matches. 'From my very birth I have been scrubbed and set over the fire to boil. I have lost count of how many times that has happened. I do the solid, the most important work here, and should be counted first among you all. My only diversion is to stand properly cleaned on the shelf and engage in a dignified conversation with my friends. We are all proper stay-at-homes here, except for the water bucket, which does run down to the well every so often, and the market basket. She brings us news from the town, but as far as I am concerned it is all disagreeable. All she can talk about are the people and the government. Why, the other day an old earthen pot got so frightened that it fell down and broke in pieces. The market basket is a liberal!' 'You talk too much!' grumbled the tinderbox. 'Let us have a pleasant evening.' And the steel struck the flint so that sparks flew. 'Ja jeg har det nu paa en anden Maade!' sagde Jerngryden, som Svovlstikkerne laae ved Siden af. 'Lige fra jeg kom ud i Verden er jeg skuret og kogt mange Gange! jeg sorger for det Solide og er egentlig talt den Første her i Huset. Min eneste Glæde er, saadan efter Bordet, at ligge reen og pæn paa Hylden og føre en fornuftig Passiar med Kammeraterne; men naar jeg undtager Vandspanden, som engang imellem kommer ned i Gaarden, saa leve vi altid inden Døre. Vort eneste Nyhedsbud er Torvekurven, men den snakker saa uroligt om Regjeringen og Folket; ja, forleden var der en gammel Potte, som af Forskrækkelse derover faldt ned og slog sig i Stykker! den er frisksindet, skal jeg sige dem!' - 'Nu snakker du for meget!' sagde Fyrtøiet, og Staalet slog til Flintestenen, saa den gnistrede. 'Skulde vi nu ikke have en munter Aften?'
'Yes, let us discuss who is the most important person here,' suggested the matches. 'Ja, lad os tale om, hvem der er meest fornemme!' sagde Svovlstikkerne.
'I don't like to talk about myself,' said an earthenware pot. 'Let's tell stories instead. I will begin with an everyday story, the kind that could have happened to any of us. I think that kind of story is the most amusing: "By the Baltic Sea where the Danish beeches mirror their--' 'Nei, jeg holder ikke af at tale om mig selv,' sagde Leerpotten, 'lad os faae en Aftenunderholdning! jeg vil begynde, jeg skal fortælle saadant noget, Enhver har oplevet; det kan man saa rart sætte sig ind i, og det er saa fornøieligt: "Ved Østersøen ved de danske Bøge!"'
'That is a beautiful beginning,' exclaimed the plates. 'We are sure we will love that story.' 'Det er en deilig Begyndelse!' sagde alle Talerknerne, 'det bliver bestemt en Historie, jeg kan lide!'
'There I spent my youth in a quiet home,' continued the earthenware pot. 'The furniture was polished each week, the floors washed every second day, and the curtains were washed and ironed every fortnight.' 'Ja, der tilbragte jeg min Ungdom hos en stille Familie; Møblerne bleve bonede, Gulvet vasket, der kom rene Gardiner hver fjortende Dag!'
'How interestingly you describe it,' interrupted the feather duster. 'One can hear that a woman is talking, there is an air of cleanliness about it all.' 'Hvor De dog fortæller interessant!' sagde Støvekosten. 'Man kan strax høre, at det er et Fruentimmer, som fortæller; der gaaer saadant noget Reenligt derigjennem!'
'How true, how true!' said the water bucket, and jumped, out of pure joy, several inches into the air. 'Ja det føler man!' sagde Vandspanden, og saa gjorde den af Glæde et lille Hop, saa det sagde Kladsk paa Gulvet.
The earthenware pot told its story; and both the middle and the end were just as interesting as the beginning had been. Og Potten blev ved at fortælle, og Enden var ligesaa god som Begyndelsen.
All the plates clattered in unison as applause; and the feather duster took some parsley and made it into a garland with which to crown the pot. She knew it would irritate the others; besides, she thought, 'If I honor her today, she will honor me tomorrow.' Alle Talerknerne de raslede af Glæde, og Støvekosten tog grøn Petersille af Sandhullet og bekrandsede Potten, for den vidste, det vilde ærgre de Andre, og: 'bekrandser jeg hende idag,' tænkte han, 'saa bekrandser hun mig imorgen.'
'We will dance,' said the big black pair of tongs; and so they didl! Goodness, how they could stretch their legs. The cover on the old chair, over in the corner, split right down the middle just trying to follow them with his eyes. 'Where are our laurel leaves?' demanded the tongs when they had finished; and they were crowned with a garland too. 'Nu vil jeg dandse!' sagde Ildklemmen, og dandsede; ja, Gud bevar' os, hvor den kunde sætte det ene Been i Veiret. Det gamle Stolebetræk henne i Krogen revnede ved at see paa det! 'Maa jeg saa blive bekrandset!' sagde Ildklemmen, og det blev hun.
'Vulgar rabble,' thought the matches; but they didn't say it out loud. 'Det er dog kun Pøbel!' tænkte Svovlstikkerne.
'The samovar was going to sing; but it had caught cold--at least so it claimed, but it wasn't true. She was too proud; she would only sing in the dining room, when the master and mistress were present. Nu skulde Theemaskinen synge, men den var forkjølet, sagde den, den kunde ikke uden den var i Kog; men det var af bar Fornemhed, den vilde ikke synge, uden naar den stod paa Bordet inde hos Herskabet.
Over on the window sill was an old pen that the maid used to write with. There was nothing special about it except that it had been dipped a little too deeply in the inkwell. The pen thought that this was a distinction and was proud of it. 'If the samovar won't sing,' remarked the pen, 'we shouldn't beg it to. Outside the window hangs a bird cage with a nightingale in it; why not let him sing? True, his voice is untrained and he is quite uneducated; but his song has a pleasing naive simplicity about it.' Henne i Vinduet sad en gammel Pennefjer, som Pigen pleiede at skrive med; der var ikke noget mærkværdigt ved den, uden at den var dyppet alt for dybt i Blækhuset, men deraf var nu den stor paa det. 'Vil Theemaskinen ikke synge,' sagde den, 'saa kan den lade være! udenfor hænger i et Buur en Nattergal, den kan synge, den har rigtignok ikke lært noget, men det vil vi ikke tale ondt om i Aften!'
'I object. I think it is most improper,' complained the tea kettle, who was a half sister of the samovar. 'Why should we listen to a foreign bird? Is that patriotic? Let the market basket judge between us.' 'Jeg finder det høist upassende,' sagde Theekjedelen, der var Kjøkkensanger og Halvsøster til Theemaskinen, 'at saadan en fremmed Fugl skal høres! Er det patriotisk? Jeg vil lade Torvekurven dømme!'
'I am annoyed and irritated,' shouted the market basket. 'It is most aggravating; what a way to spend an evening! Let's put everything back in its right place, then I'll rule the roost, as I ought to. And you'll see what a difference that will make.' 'Jeg ærgrer mig kun,' sagde Torvekurven, 'jeg ærgrer mig saa inderlig, som Nogen kan tænke sig! er det en passende Maade at tilbringe Aftenen paa, vilde det ikke være rigtigere at sætte Huset paa den rette Ende? Enhver skulde da komme paa sin Plads, og jeg vilde styre hele Codillen. Det vil blive noget andet!'
'Let's make noise! Let's make noise!' screamed all the others. At that moment the door opened and the maid entered. Instantly, they stood still and kept quiet, every one of them. But even the smallest earthenware pot thought to herself, 'I am really the most important person here in the kitchen and, if I had wanted to, I could have made it into a most amusing evening.' 'Ja lad os gjøre Spektakel!' sagde de Allesammen. I det samme gik Døren op. Det var Tjenestepigen, og saa stode de stille, Ingen sagde et Muk; men der var ikke en Potte, uden den jo nok vidste, hvad den kunde gjøre, og hvor fornem den var; 'ja, naar jeg havde villet,' tænkte de, 'saa skulde det rigtignok blevet en munter Aften!'
The maid took a match, struck it, and lighted the fire. Tjenestepigen tog Svovlstikkerne, gjorde Ild med dem-- Gud bevar' os, hvor de spruttede og brændte i Lue.
'Now everyone can see,' thought the match, 'that we are the true aristocrats here. What a flame we make. What glorious light!' And that was the end of the match, it burned out." 'Nu kan da Enhver,' tænkte de, 'see, at vi ere de Første! hvilken Glands vi have! hvilket Lys!' - og saa vare de brændt ud."
"That was a lovely fairy tale," said the queen. "I feel just as if I had been in the kitchen with the matches. You shall have our daughter." "Det var et deiligt Eventyr!" sagde Dronningen, "jeg følte mig saa ganske i Kjøkkenet hos Svovlstikkerne, ja, nu skal du have vor Datter."
"Certainly," said the king. "We will hold the wedding on Monday," and he patted the merchant's son on the back, for now he was part of the family. "Ja vist!" sagde Kongen, "du skal have vor Datter paa Mandag!" for nu sagde de du til ham, da han skulde være af Familien.
On Sunday evening the whole town was illuminated in honor of the impending marriage. Buns and pretzels were given away to everyone; and the street urchins whistled through their fingers. It was a moving sight. Brylluppet var nu bestemt, og Aftenen forud blev hele Byen illumineret; Boller og Kringler fløi i Grams; Gadedrengene stode paa Tæerne, raabte Hurra og peb i Fingrene; det var særdeles pragtfuldt.
"I'd better add to the festivities," thought the merchant's son. He went out and bought all the fireworks he could, put them in the trunk, and flew up in the air. "Ja, jeg faaer vel ogsaa see til at gjøre Noget!" tænkte Kjøbmandssønnen, og saa kjøbte han Raketter, Knaldperler og alt det Fyrværkeri, der tænkes kunde, lagde det i sin Kuffert, og fløi saa med det op i Luften.
Ah! how high he flew and the fireworks sputtered, glittered, and banged. Rutsch, hvor det gik! og hvor det futtede.
Such a spectacle no one had seen before. All the Turks jumped a foot up into the air and lost their slippers. Now they knew it was the God of the Turks who would be marrying their princess. Alle Tyrkerne hoppede i Veiret ved det, saa deres Tøfler fløi dem om Ørene; saadant et Luftsyn havde de aldrig seet før. Nu kunde de da forstaae, at det var Tyrkeguden selv, som skulde have Prindsessen.
When the merchant's son had returned in his trunk to the forest, he decided to go back into town in order to hear what everyone was saying about his performance--and it's quite understandable that he should want to. Saasnart Kjøbmandssønnen igjen med sin Kuffert kom ned i Skoven, tænkte han: "jeg vil dog gaae ind i Byen, for at faae at høre, hvorledes det har taget sig ud!" og det var jo ganske rimeligt, han havde Lyst til det.
And the things that people said! Everyone had seen something different, but they all agreed that it was marvelous. Nei, hvor dog Folk fortalte! hver evige Een, han spurgte derom, havde seet det paa sin Maade, men deiligt havde det været for dem Allesammen.
"I saw the God himself," said one man. "He had eyes like stars and a beard like the foaming ocean." "Jeg saae Tyrkeguden selv," sagde den Ene, "han havde Øine, som skinnende Stjerner og et Skjæg som skummende Vande!"
"He flew wearing a cloak of fire," said another, "and the prettiest cherubs were peeping out from under its folds." "Han fløi i en Ildkaabe," sagde en Anden. "De deiligste Englebørn tittede frem fra Folderne!"
It was all very pleasing to hear; and tomorrow was his wedding day! Jo, det var deilige Ting, han hørte, og Dagen efter skulde han have Bryllup.
He hurried back to the forest to sleep the night away in his trunk. But where was it? It had burned to ashes. A little spark from one of the fireworks had ignited it; and that was the end of the trunk, and the merchant's son too! Now he could not fly to his bride. Nu gik han tilbage til Skoven, for at sætte sig i sin Kuffert - men hvor var den? Kufferten var brændt op. En Gnist fra Fyrværkeriet var blevet tilbage, den havde tændt Ild, og Kufferten var i Aske. Han kunde ikke mere flyve, ikke mere komme til sin Brud.
She waited for him on the roof all day. She is still waiting for him, while he is wandering around the world, telling fairy tales; but they are not so lighthearted as the one he told about the sulphur matches. Hun stod hele Dagen paa Taget og ventede, hun venter endnu, men han gaaer Verden rundt og fortæller Eventyr, men de ere ikke mere saa lystige, som det han fortalte om Svovlstikkerne.

Copyright Anchor Books Doubleday
Hans Christian Andersen:
The Complete Fairy Tales and Stories

Translated from Danish by Erik Christian Haugaard

Copyright:
The Hans Christian Andersen Project