“Is it possible!” said the Lord-in-Waiting. “I had never supposed it would look like that. How very plain it looks! It has certainly lost its colour from seeing so many grand folk around it.”
“Little Nightingale,” called out the little Kitchen girl, “our gracious Emperor would be so glad if you would sing for him.”
“With the greatest pleasure,” said the Nightingale. It sang, and it was a joy to hear it.
“Just like little glass bells,” said the Lord-in-Waiting; “and just look at the little throat, how active it is! It is astonishing to think we have never heard it before! It will have a real success at Court.”
“Shall I sing for the Emperor again?” said the Nightingale, who thought that the Emperor was there in person.
“Mine excellent little Nightingale,” said the Lord-in-Waiting, “I have the great pleasure of bidding you to a Court-Festival this night, when you will enchant His Imperial Majesty with your delightful warbling.”
“My voice sounds better among the green trees,” said the Nightingale. But it came willingly when it knew that the Emperor wished it.
There was a great deal of furbishing up at the Palace. The walls and ceiling, which were of porcelain, shone with a light of a thousand golden lamps. The most beautiful flowers of the tinkling kind were placed in the passages. There was running to and fro, and a thorough draught. But that is just what made the bells ring: one could not oneself. In the middle of the large hall where the Emperor sat, a golden rod had been set up on which the Nightingale was to perch. The whole Court was present, and the little Kitchen-maid was allowed to stand behind the door, for she had now the actual title of a Court Kitchen Maid. All were there in their smartest clothes, and they all looked towards the little grey bird to which the Emperor nodded.
And the Nightingale sang so delightfully that tears sprang into the Emperor's eyes and rolled down his cheeks; and then the Nightingale sang even more beautifully. The song went straight to the heart, and the Emperor was so delighted that he declared that the Nightingale should have his golden slipper to hang round its neck. But the Nightingale declined. It had already had its reward.
“I have seen tears in the Emperor's eyes. That to me is the richest tribute. An Emperor's tears have a wonderful power. God knows my reward is great enough,” and again its sweet, glorious voice was heard.