The Happy Prince

　　THE HAPPY PRINCE
　　High above the city, on a tall column, stood the statue of the
　　Happy Prince. He was gilded all over with thin leaves of fine
　　gold, for eyes he had two bright sapphires, and a large red ruby
　　glowed on his sword-hilt.
　　He was very much admired indeed. "He is as beautiful as a
　　weathercock," remarked one of the Town Councillors who wished to
　　gain a reputation for having artistic tastes; "only not quite so
　　useful," he added, fearing lest people should think him
　　unpractical, which he really was not.
　　"Why cant you be like the Happy Prince?" asked a sensible mother
　　of her little boy who was crying for the moon. "The Happy Prince
　　never dreams of crying for anything."
　　"I am glad there is some one in the world who is quite happy,"
　　muttered a disappointed man as he gazed at the wonderful statue.
　　"He looks just like an angel," said the Charity Children as they
　　came out of the cathedral in their bright scarlet cloaks and their
　　clean white pinafores.
　　"How do you know?" said the Mathematical Master, "you have never
　　seen one."
　　"Ah! but we have, in our dreams," answered the children; and the
　　Mathematical Master frowned and looked very severe, for he did not
　　approve of children dreaming.
　　One night there flew over the city a little Swallow. His friends
　　had gone away to Egypt six weeks before, but he had stayed behind,
　　for he was in love with the most beautiful Reed. He had met her
　　early in the spring as he was flying down the river after a big
　　yellow moth, and had been so attracted by her slender waist that he
　　had stopped to talk to her.
　　"Shall I love you?" said the Swallow, who liked to come to the
　　point at once, and the Reed made him a low bow. So he flew round
　　and round her, touching the water with his wings, and making silver
　　ripples. This was his courtship, and it lasted all through the
　　summer.
　　"It is a ridiculous attachment," twittered the other Swallows; "she
　　has no money, and far too many relations"; and indeed the river was
　　quite full of Reeds. Then, when the autumn came they all flew
　　away.
　　After they had gone he felt lonely, and began to tire of his lady-
　　love. "She has no conversation," he said, "and I am afraid that
　　she is a coquette, for she is always flirting with the wind." And
　　certainly, whenever the wind blew, the Reed made the most graceful
　　curtseys. "I admit that she is domestic," he continued, "but I
　　love travelling, and my wife, consequently, should love travelling
　　also."
　　"Will you come away with me?" he said finally to her; but the Reed
　　shook her head, she was so attached to her home.
　　"You have been trifling with me," he cried. "I am off to the
　　Pyramids. Good-bye!" and he flew away.
　　All day long he flew, and at night-time he arrived at the city.
　　"Where shall I put up?" he said; "I hope the town has made
　　preparations."
　　Then he saw the statue on the tall column.
　　"I will put up there," he cried; "it is a fine position, with
　　plenty of fresh air." So he alighted just between the feet of the
　　Happy Prince.
　　"I have a golden bedroom," he said softly to himself as he looked
　　round, and he prepared to go to sleep; but just as he was putting
　　his head under his wing a large drop of water fell on him. "What a
　　curious thing!" he cried; "there is not a single cloud in the sky,
　　the stars are quite clear and bright, and yet it is raining. The
　　climate in the north of Europe is really dreadful. The Reed used
　　to like the rain, but that was merely her selfishness."
　　Then another drop fell.
　　"What is the use of a statue if it cannot keep the rain off?" he
　　said; "I must look for a good chimney-pot," and he determined to
　　fly away.
　　But before he had opened his wings, a third drop fell, and he
　　looked up, and saw - Ah! what did he see?
　　The eyes of the Happy Prince were filled with tears, and tears were
　　running down his golden cheeks. His face was so beautiful in the
　　moonlight that the little Swallow was filled with pity.
　　"Who are you?" he said.
　　"I am the Happy Prince."
　　"Why are you weeping then?" asked the Swallow; "you have quite
　　drenched me."
　　"When I was alive and had a human heart," answered the statue, "I
　　did not know what tears were, for I lived in the Palace of Sans-
　　Souci, where sorrow is not allowed to enter. In the daytime I
　　played with my companions in the garden, and in the evening I led
　　the dance in the Great Hall. Round the garden ran a very lofty
　　wall, but I never cared to ask what lay beyond it, everything about
　　me was so beautiful. My courtiers called me the Happy Prince, and
　　happy indeed I was, if pleasure be happiness. So I lived, and so I
　　died. And now that I am dead they have set me up here so high that
　　I can see all the ugliness and all the misery of my city, and
　　though my heart is made of lead yet I cannot chose but weep."
　　"What! is he not solid gold?" said the Swallow to himself. He was
　　too polite to make any personal remarks out loud.
　　"Far away," continued the statue in a low musical voice, "far away
　　in a little street there is a poor house. One of the windows is
　　open, and through it I can see a woman seated at a table. Her face
　　is thin and worn, and she has coarse, red hands, all pricked by the
　　needle, for she is a seamstress. She is embroidering passion-
　　flowers on a satin gown for the loveliest of the Queens maids-of-
　　honour to wear at the next Court-ball. In a bed in the corner of
　　the room her little boy is lying ill. He has a fever, and is
　　asking for oranges. His mother has nothing to give him but river
　　water, so he is crying. Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow, will you
　　not bring her the ruby out of my sword-hilt? My feet are fastened
　　to this pedestal and I cannot move."
　　"I am waited for in Egypt," said the Swallow. "My friends are
　　flying up and down the Nile, and talking to the large lotus-
　　flowers. Soon they will go to sleep in the tomb of the great King.
　　The King is there himself in his painted coffin. He is wrapped in
　　yellow linen, and embalmed with spices. Round his neck is a chain
　　of pale green jade, and his hands are like withered leaves."
　　"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the Prince, "will you not
　　stay with me for one night, and be my messenger? The boy is so
　　thirsty, and the mother so sad."
　　"I dont think I like boys," answered the Swallow. "Last summer,
　　when I was staying on the river, there were two rude boys, the
　　millers sons, who were always throwing stones at me. They never
　　hit me, of course; we swallows fly far too well for that, and
　　besides, I come of a family famous for its agility; but still, it
　　was a mark of disrespect."
　　But the Happy Prince looked so sad that the little Swallow was
　　sorry. "It is very cold here," he said; "but I will stay with you
　　for one night, and be your messenger."
　　"Thank you, little Swallow," said the Prince.
　　So the Swallow picked out the great ruby from the Princes sword,
　　and flew away with it in his beak over the roofs of the town.
　　He passed by the cathedral tower, where the white marble angels
　　were sculptured. He passed by the palace and heard the sound of
　　dancing. A beautiful girl came out on the balcony with her lover.
　　"How wonderful the stars are," he said to her, "and how wonderful
　　is the power of love!"
　　"I hope my dress will be ready in time for the State-ball," she
　　answered; "I have ordered passion-flowers to be embroidered on it;
　　but the seamstresses are so lazy."
　　He passed over the river, and saw the lanterns hanging to the masts
　　of the ships. He passed over the Ghetto, and saw the old Jews
　　bargaining with each other, and weighing out money in copper
　　scales. At last he came to the poor house and looked in. The boy
　　was tossing feverishly on his bed, and the mother had fallen
　　asleep, she was so tired. In he hopped, and laid the great ruby on
　　the table beside the womans thimble. Then he flew gently round
　　the bed, fanning the boys forehead with his wings. "How cool I
　　feel," said the boy, "I must be getting better"; and he sank into a
　　delicious slumber.
　　Then the Swallow flew back to the Happy Prince, and told him what
　　he had done. "It is curious," he remarked, "but I feel quite warm
　　now, although it is so cold."
　　"That is because you have done a good action," said the Prince.
　　And the little Swallow began to think, and then he fell asleep.
　　Thinking always made him sleepy.
　　When day broke he flew down to the river and had a bath. "What a
　　remarkable phenomenon," said the Professor of Ornithology as he was
　　passing over the bridge. "A swallow in winter!" And he wrote a
　　long letter about it to the local newspaper. Every one quoted it,
　　it was full of so many words that they could not understand.
　　"To-night I go to Egypt," said the Swallow, and he was in high
　　spirits at the prospect. He visited all the public monuments, and
　　sat a long time on top of the church steeple. Wherever he went the
　　Sparrows chirruped, and said to each other, "What a distinguished
　　stranger!" so he enjoyed himself very much.
　　When the moon rose he flew back to the Happy Prince. "Have you any
　　commissions for Egypt?" he cried; "I am just starting."
　　"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the Prince, "will you not
　　stay with me one night longer?"
　　"I am waited for in Egypt," answered the Swallow. "To-morrow my
　　friends will fly up to the Second Cataract. The river-horse
　　couches there among the bulrushes, and on a great granite throne
　　sits the God Memnon. All night long he watches the stars, and when
　　the morning star shines he utters one cry of joy, and then he is
　　silent. At noon the yellow lions come down to the waters edge to
　　drink. They have eyes like green beryls, and their roar is louder
　　than the roar of the cataract.
　　"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the Prince, "far away
　　across the city I see a young man in a garret. He is leaning over
　　a desk covered with papers, and in a tumbler by his side there is a
　　bunch of withered violets. His hair is brown and crisp, and his
　　lips are red as a pomegranate, and he has large and dreamy eyes.
　　He is trying to finish a play for the Director of the Theatre, but
　　he is too cold to write any more. There is no fire in the grate,
　　and hunger has made him faint."
　　"I will wait with you one night longer," said the Swallow, who
　　really had a good heart. "Shall I take him another ruby?"
　　"Alas! I have no ruby now," said the Prince; "my eyes are all that
　　I have left. They are made of rare sapphires, which were brought
　　out of India a thousand years ago. Pluck out one of them and take
　　it to him. He will sell it to the jeweller, and buy food and
　　firewood, and finish his play."
　　"Dear Prince," said the Swallow, "I cannot do that"; and he began
　　to weep.
　　"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the Prince, "do as I
　　command you."
　　So the Swallow plucked out the Princes eye, and flew away to the
　　students garret. It was easy enough to get in, as there was a
　　hole in the roof. Through this he darted, and came into the room.
　　The young man had his head buried in his hands, so he did not hear
　　the flutter of the birds wings, and when he looked up he found the
　　beautiful sapphire lying on the withered violets.
　　"I am beginning to be appreciated," he cried; "this is from some
　　great admirer. Now I can finish my play," and he looked quite
　　happy.
　　The next day the Swallow flew down to the harbour. He sat on the
　　mast of a large vessel and watched the sailors hauling big chests
　　out of the hold with ropes. "Heave a-hoy!" they shouted as each
　　chest came up. "I am going to Egypt"! cried the Swallow, but
　　nobody minded, and when the moon rose he flew back to the Happy
　　Prince.
　　"I am come to bid you good-bye," he cried.
　　"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the Prince, "will you not
　　stay with me one night longer?"
　　"It is winter," answered the Swallow, "and the chill snow will soon
　　be here. In Egypt the sun is warm on the green palm-trees, and the
　　crocodiles lie in the mud and look lazily about them. My
　　companions are building a nest in the Temple of Baalbec, and the
　　pink and white doves are watching them, and cooing to each other.
　　Dear Prince, I must leave you, but I will never forget you, and
　　next spring I will bring you back two beautiful jewels in place of
　　those you have given away. The ruby shall be redder than a red
　　rose, and the sapphire shall be as blue as the great sea."
　　"In the square below," said the Happy Prince, "there stands a
　　little match-girl. She has let her matches fall in the gutter, and
　　they are all spoiled. Her father will beat her if she does not
　　bring home some money, and she is crying. She has no shoes or
　　stockings, and her little head is bare. Pluck out my other eye,
　　and give it to her, and her father will not beat her."
　　"I will stay with you one night longer," said the Swallow, "but I
　　cannot pluck out your eye. You would be quite blind then."
　　"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the Prince, "do as I
　　command you."
　　So he plucked out the Princes other eye, and darted down with it.
　　He swooped past the match-girl, and slipped the jewel into the palm
　　of her hand. "What a lovely bit of glass," cried the little girl;
　　and she ran home, laughing.
　　Then the Swallow came back to the Prince. "You are blind now," he
　　said, "so I will stay with you always."
　　"No, little Swallow," said the poor Prince, "you must go away to
　　Egypt."
　　"I will stay with you always," said the Swallow, and he slept at
　　the Princes feet.
　　All the next day he sat on the Princes shoulder, and told him
　　stories of what he had seen in strange lands. He told him of the
　　red ibises, who stand in long rows on the banks of the Nile, and
　　catch gold-fish in their beaks; of the Sphinx, who is as old as the
　　world itself, and lives in the desert, and knows everything; of the
　　merchants, who walk slowly by the side of their camels, and carry
　　amber beads in their hands; of the King of the Mountains of the
　　Moon, who is as black as ebony, and worships a large crystal; of
　　the great green snake that sleeps in a palm-tree, and has twenty
　　priests to feed it with honey-cakes; and of the pygmies who sail
　　over a big lake on large flat leaves, and are always at war with
　　the butterflies.
　　"Dear little Swallow," said the Prince, "you tell me of marvellous
　　things, but more marvellous than anything is the suffering of men
　　and of women. There is no Mystery so great as Misery. Fly over my
　　city, little Swallow, and tell me what you see there."
　　So the Swallow flew over the great city, and saw the rich making
　　merry in their beautiful houses, while the beggars were sitting at
　　the gates. He flew into dark lanes, and saw the white faces of
　　starving children looking out listlessly at the black streets.
　　Under the archway of a bridge two little boys were lying in one
　　anothers arms to try and keep themselves warm. "How hungry we
　　are!" they said. "You must not lie here," shouted the Watchman,
　　and they wandered out into the rain.
　　Then he flew back and told the Prince what he had seen.
　　"I am covered with fine gold," said the Prince, "you must take it
　　off, leaf by leaf, and give it to my poor; the living always think
　　that gold can make them happy."
　　Leaf after leaf of the fine gold the Swallow picked off, till the
　　Happy Prince looked quite dull and grey. Leaf after leaf of the
　　fine gold he brought to the poor, and the childrens faces grew
　　rosier, and they laughed and played games in the street. "We have
　　bread now!" they cried.
　　Then the snow came, and after the snow came the frost. The streets
　　looked as if they were made of silver, they were so bright and
　　glistening; long icicles like crystal daggers hung down from the
　　eaves of the houses, everybody went about in furs, and the little
　　boys wore scarlet caps and skated on the ice.
　　The poor little Swallow grew colder and colder, but he would not
　　leave the Prince, he loved him too well. He picked up crumbs
　　outside the bakers door when the baker was not looking and tried
　　to keep himself warm by flapping his wings.
　　But at last he knew that he was going to die. He had just strength
　　to fly up to the Princes shoulder once more. "Good-bye, dear
　　Prince!" he murmured, "will you let me kiss your hand?"
　　"I am glad that you are going to Egypt at last, little Swallow,"
　　said the Prince, "you have stayed too long here; but you must kiss
　　me on the lips, for I love you."
　　"It is not to Egypt that I am going," said the Swallow. "I am
　　going to the House of Death. Death is the brother of Sleep, is he
　　not?"
　　And he kissed the Happy Prince on the lips, and fell down dead at
　　his feet.
　　At that moment a curious crack sounded inside the statue, as if
　　something had broken. The fact is that the leaden heart had
　　snapped right in two. It certainly was a dreadfully hard frost.
　　Early the next morning the Mayor was walking in the square below in
　　company with the Town Councillors. As they passed the column he
　　looked up at the statue: "Dear me! how shabby the Happy Prince
　　looks!" he said.
　　"How shabby indeed!" cried the Town Councillors, who always agreed
　　with the Mayor; and they went up to look at it.
　　"The ruby has fallen out of his sword, his eyes are gone, and he is
　　golden no longer," said the Mayor in fact, "he is litttle beter
　　than a beggar!"
　　"Little better than a beggar," said the Town Councillors.
　　"And here is actually a dead bird at his feet!" continued the
　　Mayor. "We must really issue a proclamation that birds are not to
　　be allowed to die here." And the Town Clerk made a note of the
　　suggestion.
　　So they pulled down the statue of the Happy Prince. "As he is no
　　longer beautiful he is no longer useful," said the Art Professor at
　　the University.
　　Then they melted the statue in a furnace, and the Mayor held a
　　meeting of the Corporation to decide what was to be done with the
　　metal. "We must have another statue, of course," he said, "and it
　　shall be a statue of myself."
　　"Of myself," said each of the Town Councillors, and they
　　quarrelled. When I last heard of them they were quarrelling still.
　　"What a strange thing!" said the overseer of the workmen at the
　　foundry. "This broken lead heart will not melt in the furnace. We
　　must throw it away." So they threw it on a dust-heap where the
　　dead Swallow was also lying.
　　"Bring me the two most precious things in the city," said God to
　　one of His Angels; and the Angel brought Him the leaden heart and
　　the dead bird.
　　"You have rightly chosen," said God, "for in my garden of Paradise
　　this little bird shall sing for evermore, and in my city of gold
　　the Happy Prince shall praise me."