The Happy Prince

The statue of the Happy Prince stood high above the city. It was covered all over within the leaves of gold. For the eyes it had two blue jewels, and there was a large red jewel on the top of his sword.

Everyone thought that it was very beautiful.

“Why can’t you be like the Happy Prince?” mothers said to their little boys when they cried.

“I’m glad there is someone in the world that is happy,” sad men said as they looked at the statue.

One night a little swallow flew over the city. All the other swallows had flown to Egypt on their long wings but he had stayed behind. He arrived at the city at night. “Where can I stay?” he said. “I hope there is some place where I can stay tonight.”

Then he saw the statue.

“I’ll stay there,” he said. “It’s high up, with plenty of fresh air.” He came down just between the feet of the Happy Prince.

“I have a golden bedroom!” he said, as he looked round and prepared to go to sleep. Just as he put his head under his wing, a large drop of water fell on him.

He looked up. “That’s a very strange thing!” he said. “There isn’t a cloud in the sky, and the stars are clear and bright; but it’s raining!”

Then another drop fell.

“What is the use of a statue if it can’t keep the rain off?” he said. “I must find some other place.” And he decided to fly away. But before he had opened his wings a third drop fell. He looked up and saw- Ah! What did he see?

The eyes of the Happy Prince were filled with tears. Tears were running down his golden face: the face was so beautiful in the moonlight that the swallow felt very sorry for him.

“Who are you?” asked the swallow.

“I’m the Happy Prince.”

“Then why are you weeping? You have made me quite wet with your tears.”

“When I was alive,” said the Prince, “and had a heart like any other man, I didn’t know what tears were. I never wept because I lived in a palace into which sadness was never allowed to come. In the daytime I played with my friends in the garden, and in the evening I danced in the great hall. There was a high wall round the garden, and I never asked what lay on the other side, because everything on my side was so beautiful. So I was called the Happy Prince; and I was happy – if pleasure is the same as happiness. I was pleased with the little world in which I lived. Now I am dead, and they have set me up here so high that I can see all the ugliness and unhappiness of my city. My heart now is made of lead. But even that leaden heart can feel; and I weep.”

“Oh,” said the swallow to himself, “he isn’t all made of gold: he is only gold on the outside.”

“Far away,” said the Happy Prince in a low voice, “far away from here there is a poor house in a little street. One of the windows is open, and through the window I can see a woman seated at a table. Her face is very thin and she has rough, red hands. She is a needlewoman: she is making a dress for one of the queen’s ladies to wear at a dance in the palace. Her little boy is lying over a bed in the corner of the room. He is very ill. He is asking for fruit. She has nothing to give him except water from the river: so he is crying. Swallow, swallow, little swallow, will you take her the red jewel from the top of my sword? My feet are fixed and I can’t move.”

“My friends are fixed waiting for me in Egypt,” said the swallow.

“Swallow, swallow, little swallow,” said the prince. “Won’t you stay with me for one night and do this for me? The boy is crying and his mother is so sad.”

“I don’t like boys,” answered the swallow, “last summer two boys threw stones at me when I was flying over the river.”

But the Happy Prince looked so sad: the little swallow was sorry for him. “It’s very cold here,” he said; “but I will stay with you for one night and do what you ask.”

“Thank you, little swallow,” said the prince.

So the swallow took the great red jewel from the prince’s sword and flew away with it over the roofs of the town.

He passed by the church and heard the sound of singing; he passed by the palace and heard the sound of dancing. A beautiful girl came to a window 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 for the great dance next week,” she said; “but the needlewomen are so lazy.”

He passed over the river and over the business part of the town. At last he came to the poor little house and looked in. The boy was lying restlessly on the bed and the mother had fallen asleep: he kept the red jewel near the woman’s hand. Then he flew round the bed beating down the air on to the boy’s face with his wings.

“Oh,” said the boy, “my face doesn’t feel so hot. I think I’m getting better.” And he fell asleep.

Then he flew back to the Happy Prince and told him what he had done. “It’s strange,” he said, “I feel quite warm now, although it’s so cold.”

“That’s because you have done a good thing,” said the prince. The little swallow fell asleep.

When day came the swallow flew down to the river and had a bath. A learned man saw him. “What a curious thing!” he said: “a swallow in winter! That is very unusual. I must make a note of it!”

“I’ll go to Egypt tonight,” thought the swallow, and he felt very happy as he flew over all the great buildings in the town.

When the moon rose, he flew back to the Happy Prince. “Is there anything you want me to do for you in Egypt?” he said, “I’m just starting to fly there.”

“Swallow, swallow, little swallow,” said the prince, “Won’t you stay with me for one more night?”

“My friends are waiting for me in Egypt,” answered the swallow.

“Swallow, swallow, little swallow,” said the prince, “far away across the city I see a young man sitting at a table covered with papers. At his side there are some dead flowers. His hair is brown and he has a large dreamy eyes. He is trying to finish the story that he is writing, but he is too cold to write anymore. There is no fire in the room, and he is weak with hunger.”

“I’ll stay with you for one more night,” said the swallow, which was really very kind. “Shall I take another red jewel to him?” asked the sparrow.

“I have no other red jewel,” said the prince. “My eyes are all that I have left. They are beautiful blue stones brought from India a thousand years ago. Take one of them to him. He will sell it to the jeweler and buy wood for his fire, and finish his story.”

“Take out your eye, dear Prince?” said the swallow, “I can’t do that!” And he began to weep.

“Swallow, swallow, little swallow,” said the prince, “do as I order you!”

So the swallow took out the prince’s eye and flew away to the room where the young man lived at the top of the house. It was easy to get in because there was a hole in the roof. The young man was sitting with his head in his hands, so he did not hear the bird’s wings. When he looked up, he found a beautiful blue jewel lying on the dead flowers.

“Someone likes my stories!” he cried. “This has come from someone who has read my books and thinks them good. Now I can finish writing my story!” He looked quite happy.

On the next day the swallow flew down to the river and watched the seamen pulling big boxes and bags out of the ships with ropes. They shouted to each other as each one came up. “I’m going to Egypt!” cried the swallow; but no one listened to him.

When the moon came up he flew back to the Happy Prince. “I have come to say goodbye to you,” he said.

“Swallow, swallow, little swallow,” said the prince, “won’t you stay one more night with me?”

“It is winter,” answered the swallow, “It’s getting very cod, and snow will come. In Egypt the sun is warm and the trees are green. Dear prince, I must leave you; but I will never forget you.”

“A little girl is standing there in the square below. She is selling boxes of matches. She has let her matches fall in the water and they are all spoiled. Her father will beat her if she doesn’t take money home, and she is crying. Take out my other eye and give it to her, and her father won’t beat her,” said the Prince.

“I’ll stay with you for one more night,” said the swallow, “but I can’t take out your other eye. You would be quite blind then: you wouldn’t be able to see!”

“Swallow, swallow, little swallow,” said the prince, “Do as I order you!”

So he took out the prince’s other eye and flew down with it. He flew past the match girl and put the jewel in her hand.

“What a beautiful piece of glass!” cried the little girl; and she ran home laughing.

Then the swallow flew back to the prince. “You are blind now,” he said, “so I’ll stay with you always.”

“No,” said the poor prince, “you must go away to Egypt.”

“I’ll stay with you always,” said the swallow, and he slept at the prince’s feet.

All the next day he stayed with the prince, and he told him stories of what he had seen in strange lands.

“Dear little swallow,” said the prince, “you tell me about strange and wonderful things, but the suffering of men and women is stranger than anything. 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 eating and drinking in their beautiful houses, while the beggars were sitting at the gate. He flew into the dark lanes and saw the white faces of hungry children looking out with sad eyes at the black streets. Two little boys were lying under a bridge — lying in each other’s arms to try to keep themselves warm.  “How hungry we are!” they said. “You mustn’t 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’m covered with fine gold,” said the prince. “You must take it off, leaf by leaf, and give it to my poor people.”

The swallow pulled off leaf after leaf, till the Happy Prince looked dim and grey. He took leaf after leaf to the poor. The children’s faces became brighter and they played games in the street. “We have bread now!” they cried.

Then the snow came, and ice came after the snow. The streets looked as if they were made of silver. Ice hung down from the roofs of the houses. Everyone went about in thick coats.

The poor little swallow became colder and colder, but he would not leave the prince: he loved him too much to leave him.

At last he knew that he was going to die.

“Goodbye, dear prince!” he said, “Will you let me kiss you?”

“I’m glad that you are going to Egypt at last,” said the prince, “You have stayed here too long. Kiss me, because I love you.”

“I’m not going to Egypt,” said the swallow. “I’m going to the House of Death.”

He kissed the Happy Prince, and fell down dead at his feet.

Just then there was a curious sound inside the statue, a CRACK as if something had broken. The leaden heart had broken in two pieces.

Early next morning the head man of the city was walking below with his two friends. He looked up at the statue. “The Happy Prince doesn’t look very bright!” he said. “The red stone has fallen out of his sword; his eyes are gone, and he isn’t golden now. He looks more like a beggar.”

“Yes! More like a beggar than a prince,” said the friends.

“Here’s a dead bird at his feet!” said the head man of the city. “We must make an order that bird must not be allowed to die here.”

So they pulled down the statue of the Happy Prince and they put it in the fire and melted it and a stream of bright red liquid metal ran out.

“What a strange thing?” said the workmen. “This broken piece of lead won’t melt. We must throw it away.” So they threw it on the waste, where the dead swallow was also lying.

In the heaven, God said to one of his servants, “bring me the two best things – the things worth more than anything else – in the city.” He brought to him the leaden heart and the dead bird.

“Yes, you have brought the right things,” God said. “This little bird shall sing for everyone in the Garden of Heaven, and the Happy Prince shall be in my City of Gold.”