From The Happy Prince and Other
Tales by Oscar Wilde (1888)
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 can't 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 someone 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 Queen's 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 don't think I like
boys," answered the Swallow. "Last summer, when I was staying on the
river, there were two rude boys, the miller's 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 Prince's 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 woman's thimble.
Then he flew gently round the bed, fanning the boy's 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 water's 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
Prince's eye, and flew away to the student's 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 bird's 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 Prince's 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 Prince's feet.
All the next day he sat on the
Prince's 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 another's 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 children's 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 baker's 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 Prince's 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."
THE END.
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