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off only a minute before… hissed off from a wretched theatre； by a
miserable audience。 And tonight a shabby hearse rolled out of the
town…gate。 It was a suicide… our painted； despised hero。 The driver of
the hearse was the only person present； for no one followed except
my beams。 In a corner of the churchyard the corpse of the suicide
was shovelled into the earth； and nettles will soon be growing
rankly over his grave； and the sexton will throw thorns and weeds from
the other graves upon it。〃
NINETEENTH EVENING
〃I come from Rome；〃 said the Moon。 〃In the midst of the city； upon
one of the seven hills； lie the ruins of the imperial palace。 The wild
fig tree grows in the clefts of the wall； and covers the nakedness
thereof with its broad grey…green leaves； trampling among heaps of
rubbish； the ass treads upon green laurels； and rejoices over the rank
thistles。 From this spot； whence the eagles of Rome once flew
abroad； whence they 'came； saw； and conquered；' our door leads into
a little mean house； built of clay between two pillars； the wild
vine hangs like a mourning garland over the crooked window。 An old
woman and her little granddaughter live there： they rule now in the
palace of the Caesars； and show to strangers the remains of its past
glories。 Of the splendid throne…hall only a naked wall yet stands； and
a black cypress throws its dark shadow on the spot where the throne
once stood。 The dust lies several feet deep on the broken pavement；
and the little maiden； now the daughter of the imperial palace；
often sits there on her stool when the evening bells ring。 The keyhole
of the door close by she calls her turret window； through this she can
see half Rome； as far as the mighty cupola of St。 Peter's。
〃On this evening； as usual； stillness reigned around； and in the
full beam of my light came the little granddaughter。 On her head she
carried an earthen pitcher of antique shape filled with water。 Her
feet were bare； her short frock and her white sleeves were torn。 I
kissed her pretty round shoulders； her dark eyes； and black shining
hair。 She mounted the stairs； they were steep； having been made up
of rough blocks of broken marble and the capital of a fallen pillar。
The coloured lizards slipped away； startled； from before her feet； but
she was not frightened at them。 Already she lifted her hand to pull
the door…bell… a hare's foot fastened to a string formed the
bell…handle of the imperial palace。 She paused for a moment… of what
might she be thinking？ Perhaps of the beautiful Christ…child；
dressed in gold and silver； which was down below in the chapel；
where the silver candlesticks gleamed so bright； and where her
little friends sung the hymns in which she also could join？ I know
not。 Presently she moved again… she stumbled： the earthen vessel
fell from her head； and broke on the marble steps。 She burst into
tears。 The beautiful daughter of the imperial palace wept over the
worthless broken pitcher； with her bare feet she stood there
weeping； and dared not pull the string； the bell…rope of the
imperial palace！〃
TWENTIETH EVENING
It was more than a fortnight since the Moon had shone。 Now he
stood once more； round and bright； above the clouds； moving slowly
onward。 Hear what the Moon told me。
〃From a town in Fezzan I followed a caravan。 On the margin of
the sandy desert； in a salt plain； that shone like a frozen lake；
and was only covered in spots with light drifting sand； a halt was
made。 The eldest of the company… the water gourd hung at his girdle；
and on his head was a little bag of unleavened bread… drew a square in
the sand with his staff； and wrote in it a few words out of the Koran；
and then the whole caravan passed over the consecrated spot。 A young
merchant； a child of the East； as I could tell by his eye and his
figure； rode pensively forward on his white snorting steed。 Was he
thinking； perchance； of his fair young wife？ It was only two days
ago that the camel； adorned with furs and with costly shawls； had
carried her； the beauteous bride； round the walls of the city； while
drums and cymbals had sounded； the women sang； and festive shots； of
which the bridegroom fired the greatest number； resounded round the
camel； and now he was journeying with the caravan across the desert。
〃For many nights I followed the train。 I saw them rest by the
wellside among the stunted palms； they thrust the knife into the
breast of the camel that had fallen； and roasted its flesh by the
fire。 My beams cooled the glowing sands； and showed them the black
rocks； dead islands in the immense ocean of sand。 No hostile tribes
met them in their pathless route； no storms arose； no columns of
sand whirled destruction over the journeying caravan。 At home the
beautiful wife prayed for her husband and her father。 'Are they dead？'
she asked of my golden crescent； 'Are they dead？' she cried to my full
disc。 Now the desert lies behind them。 This evening they sit beneath
the lofty palm trees； where the crane flutters round them with its
long wings； and the pelican watches them from the branches of the
mimosa。 The luxuriant herbage is trampled down； crushed by the feet of
elephants。 A troop of negroes are returning from a market in the
interior of the land： the women； with copper buttons in their black
hair； and decked out in clothes dyed with indigo； drive the
heavily…laden oxen； on whose backs slumber the naked black children。 A
negro leads a young lion which he has brought； by a string。 They
approach the caravan； the young merchant sits pensive and
motionless； thinking of his beautiful wife； dreaming； in the land of
the blacks； of his white lily beyond the desert。 He raises his head；
and… 〃 But at this moment a cloud passed before the Moon； and then
another。 I heard nothing more from him this evening。
TWENTY…FIRST EVENING
〃I saw a little girl weeping；〃 said the Moon； 〃she was weeping
over the depravity of the world。 She had received a most beautiful
doll as a present。 Oh； that was a glorious doll； so fair and delicate！
She did not seem created for the sorrows of this world。 But the
brothers of the little girl； those great naughty boys； had set the
doll high up in the branches of a tree and had run away。
〃The little girl could not reach up to the doll； and could not
help her down； and that is why she was crying。 The doll must certainly
have been crying too； for she stretched out her arms among the green
branches； and looked quite mournful。 Yes； these are the troubles of
life of which the little girl had often heard tell。 Alas； poor doll！
it began to grow dark already； and suppose night were to come on
completely！ Was she to be left sitting on the bough all night long？
No； the little maid could not make up her mind to that。 'I'll stay
with you；' she said； although she felt anything but happy in her mind。
She could almost fancy she distinctly saw little gnomes； with their
high…crowned hats； sitting in the bushes； and further back in the long
walk； tall spectres appeared to be dancing。 They came nearer and
nearer； and stretched out their hands towards the tree on which the
doll sat； they laughed scornfully； and pointed at her with their
fingers。 Oh； how frightened the little maid was！ 'But if one has not
done anything wrong；' she thought； 'nothing evil can harm one。 I
wonder if I have done anything wrong？' And she considered。 'Oh； yes！ I
laughed at the poor duck with the red rag on her leg； she limped along
so funnily； I could not help laughing； but it's a sin to laugh at
animals。' And she looked up at the doll。 'Did you laugh at the duck
too？' she asked； and it seemed as if the doll shook her head。〃
TWENTY…SECOND EVENING
〃I looked down upon Tyrol；〃 said the Moon； 〃and my beams caused
the dark pines to throw long shadows upon the rocks。 I looked at the
pictures of St。 Christopher carrying the Infant Jesus that are painted
there upon the walls of the houses； colossal figures reaching from the
ground to the roof。 St。 Florian was represented pouring water on the
burning house； and the Lord hung bleeding on the great cross by the
wayside。 To the present generation these are old pictures； but I saw
when they were put up； and marked how one followed the other。 On the
brow of the mountain yonder is perched； like a swallow's nest； a
lonely convent of nuns。 Two of the sisters stood up in the tower
tolling the bell； they were both young； and therefore their glances
flew over the mountain out into the world。 A travelling coach passed
by below； the postillion wound his horn； and the poor nuns looked
after the carriage for a moment with a mournful glance； and a tear
gleamed in the eyes of the younger one。 And the horn sounded faint and
more faintly； and the convent bell drowned its expiring echoes。〃
TWENTY…THIRD EVENING
Hear what the Moon told me。 〃Some years ago； here in Copenhagen； I
looked through the window of a mean little room。 The fath