Соловей

           Anewemperorwasalreadychosen,andpeoplestoodaboutinthestreet,andaskedthegentleman-in-waitinghowtheiremperorwasgoingon.’P,’answeredhe,shakinghishead.Theemperorlaypaleandcoldinhisgorgeousbed,thecourtiersthoughthewasdead,andtheyallwentofftopaytheirrespectstotheirnewemperor.Thelackeysranofftotalkmattersover,andthechambermaidsgaveagreatcoffee-party.Clothhadbeenlaiddowninalltheroomsandcorridorssoastodeadenthesoundoffootsteps,soitwasvery,veryquiet.Buttheemperorwasnotdeadyet.Helaystiffandpaleinthegorgeousbedwithitsvelvethangingsandheavygoldentassels.Therewasanopenwindowhighabovehim,andthemoonstreamedinupontheemperor,andtheartificialbirdbesidehim.Thepooremperorcouldhardlybreathe,heseemedtohaveaweightonhischest,heopenedhiseyes,andthenhesawthatitwasDeathsittinguponhischest,wearinghisgoldencrown.Inonehandheheldtheemperor’sgoldensword,andintheotherhisimperialbanner.Roundabout,fromamongthefoldsofthevelvethangingspeeredmanycuriousfaces:somewerehideous,othersgentleandpleasant.Theywerealltheemperor’sgoodandbaddeeds,whichnowlookedhiminthefacewhenDeathwasweighinghimdown.’Doyourememberthat?’whisperedoneaftertheother;’Doyourememberthis?’andtheytoldhimsomanythingsthattheperspirationpoureddownhisface.’Ineverknewthat,’saidtheemperor.’Music,music,soundthegreatChinesedrums!’hecried,’thatImaynothearwhattheyaresaying.