by Hans Christian Andersen

translation by H P Paull (1872)

city of Florence, not far Piazza del Granduca, runs little street called Porta Rosa street, just in front market-place where vegetables are sold, stands pig, made of brass and curiously formed The bright color changed by age to dark green; but clear, fresh water pours snout, which shines it polished, and so indeed it has, for hundreds of poor people and children seize it in their hands place their mouths close mouth animal, to drink quite picture half-naked boy clasping the well-formed creature head, as he presses his rosy lips against its jaws who visits Florence can very quickly find the place; he has only to first beggar he meets Metal Pig, and told where

late on winter evening; the mountains were covered with snow, but the moon shone brightly, and moonlight in Italy is like dull winter's day north; indeed better, for clear air seems to raise us above the earth, while north cold, gray, leaden sky appears to press us down to earth, even cold damp earth shall one day press on us grave garden grand duke's palace, under the roof of wings, where thousand roses bloom in winter, little ragged boy sitting the whole day long; boy, serve as type of Italy, lovely and smiling, and yet still suffering hungry and thirsty, yet no one gave him anything; and when it became dark, were about to close the gardens, the porter turned him out He stood musing bridge which crosses the Arno, and looking glittering stars, reflected water which flowed between him elegant marble bridge Della Trinita He then walked away towards the Metal Pig, half knelt down, clasped it arms, and then put his mouth shining snout and drank deep draughts fresh water Close by, lay few salad-leaves and two chestnuts, which were supper No one was street but himself; it belonged only to him, so he boldly seated himself pig's back, leaned forward his curly head could rest head animal, and, before aware, he fell asleep

midnight The Metal Pig raised himself gently, boy heard him say quite distinctly, "Hold tight, little boy, for going to run;" and away he started for most wonderful ride First, they arrived Piazza del Granduca, metal horse which bears the duke's statue, neighed aloud The painted coats-of-arms old council-house shone like transparent pictures, and Michael Angelo's David tossed his sling; everything had life The metallic groups of figures, among which were Perseus Rape Sabines, looked like living persons, and cries of terror sounded all across the noble square Palazzo degli Uffizi, arcade, where the nobility assemble carnival, the Metal Pig stopped "Hold fast," said the animal; "hold fast, for going up stairs "

The little boy said not word; half pleased and half afraid They entered long gallery, where the boy before The walls were resplendent with paintings; here stood statues and busts, all in clear light it were day But the grandest appeared door of side room opened; the little boy could remember what beautiful things he had seen there, but to-night everything shone in its brightest colors Here stood the figure of beautiful woman, as beautifully sculptured as possible by great masters Her graceful limbs appeared to move; dolphins sprang at her feet, and immortality shone from her eyes The world called her the Venus de' Medici By her side were statues, spirit of life breathed in stone; figures of men, one of whom whetted his sword, and was named the Grinder; wrestling gladiators formed another group, the sword sharpened , strove goddess of beauty The boy was dazzled by glitter; walls were gleaming with bright colors, all appeared living reality

passed from hall to hall, beauty everywhere showed itself; and Metal Pig went step by step from one picture other, the little boy it all plainly One glory eclipsed another; yet one picture that fixed itself little boy's memory, more especially because happy children it represented, the little boy had seen in daylight Many pass this picture by with indifference, and yet it contains treasure of poetic feeling; it represents Christ descending into Hades the lost whom the spectator sees, but the heathen of olden times The Florentine, Angiolo Bronzino, painted this picture; most beautiful expression face two children, who appear full confidence shall reach heaven at last embracing , and one little one stretches out his hand towards another who stands below him, and points to himself, he were saying, " going to heaven " The older people stand uncertain, yet hopeful, bow in humble adoration Lord Jesus picture the boy's eyes rested longer than on : the Metal Pig stood still before it low sigh was heard Did it come picture or animal ? The boy raised his hands towards the smiling children, and then the Pig ran off open vestibule

" , , you beautiful animal," said the little boy, caressing the Metal Pig as it ran down the steps

"Thanks to yourself also," replied the Metal Pig; " helped you and helped me, is only when an innocent child on my back that I receive the power to run Yes; as , even venture under the rays lamp, in front picture Madonna, but not enter the church; still from without, and while upon my back, look in open door get down yet, for , then lifeless, seen me Porta Rosa "

" stay , my dear creature," said the little boy So then they went on at rapid pace streets of Florence, till they came square church of Santa Croce The folding-doors flew open, and light streamed altar church deserted square wonderful blaze of light streamed from monuments left-side aisle, and thousand moving stars seemed glory round it; even the coat-of-arms tomb-stone shone, and red ladder on blue field gleamed like fire It grave of Galileo The monument is unadorned, but the red ladder is an emblem of art, signifying way to glory leads up shining ladder, the prophets of mind rise to heaven, like Elias of old right aisle church every statue richly carved sarcophagi seemed endowed with life Here stood Michael Angelo; there Dante, laurel wreath round his brow; Alfieri and Machiavelli; for here side by side rest the great men- the pride of Italy The church itself is very beautiful, even more beautiful marble cathedral at Florence, though not so large It seemed as carved vestments stirred, and as marble figures they covered raised their heads higher, to gaze brightly colored glowing altar where the white-robed boys swung the golden censers, amid music and song, while the strong fragrance of incense filled the church, and streamed forth square The boy stretched forth his hands towards the light, and same moment the Metal Pig started again so rapidly that obliged to cling tightly to him The wind whistled ears, he heard the church door creak on its hinges as it closed, and it seemed to him he had lost his senses- then cold shudder passed over him, and he awoke

morning; the Metal Pig stood in its old place Porta Rosa, boy found he had slipped nearly off its back Fear and trembling came upon him as he thought mother; she had sent him out the day before some money, he done so, and now hungry and thirsty Once more he clasped the neck metal horse, kissed its nose, and nodded farewell Then he wandered away into narrowest streets, where scarcely room for loaded donkey great iron-bound door stood ajar; he passed through, and climbed up brick staircase, with dirty walls and rope for balustrade, till to an open gallery hung with rags From here flight of steps led down to court, where from well water was drawn up by iron rollers different stories house, and where the water-buckets hung side by side Sometimes the roller bucket danced air, splashing the water all over the court Another broken-down staircase led gallery, and two Russian sailors running down it almost upset the poor boy They were coming from their nightly carousal woman not very young, with an unpleasant face and quantity of black hair, followed them "What brought home ? " she asked when she saw the boy

"Don't be angry," he pleaded; "I received nothing, nothing at all;" and he seized his mother's dress and kissed it Then they went into little room not describe it, but only say that there stood an earthen pot with handles, made for holding fire, which in Italy is called marito This pot she took in her lap, warmed her fingers, and pushed the boy with her elbow

"Certainly some money," she said The boy began to cry, and then she struck him with her foot till he cried out louder

" be quiet ? or I'll break your screaming head;" and she swung fire-pot which she held in her hand, while the boy crouched earth and screamed

Then neighbor came in, and she had also marito under her arm "Felicita," she said, " you doing child ? "

"The child is mine," she answered; " murder him if I like, and you too, Giannina " And then she swung fire-pot The other woman lifted up hers to defend herself, two pots clashed together so violently were dashed to pieces, and fire and ashes flew room The boy rushed out sight, sped across the courtyard, and fled house The poor child ran till quite out of breath; at last he stopped church, the doors were opened to him the night before, and went in Here everything was bright, boy knelt down first tomb right, the grave of Michael Angelo, and sobbed his heart would break People came and went, mass was performed, but no one noticed the boy, excepting an elderly citizen, who stood still and looked at him for moment, and then went away like the rest Hunger and thirst overpowered the child, and he became quite faint and ill At last he crept into corner behind the marble monuments, and went to sleep Towards evening awakened by pull at his sleeve; he started up, same old citizen stood before him

" ill ? where live ? been here all day ? " were questions asked old man After hearing his answers, the old man took him home to small house close by, in back street They entered glovemaker's shop, where woman sat sewing busily little white poodle, so closely shaven that his pink skin could plainly be seen, frisked room, and gambolled boy