The Happy Prince

Part One · The Statue and the Swallow

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 brilliant sapphires, and a large red ruby glowed upon the hilt of his sword. He was very much admired by everyone. The town councillors, who wished to be considered artistic, remarked that he was as beautiful as a weathercock, and sensible mothers, whose children cried for impossible things, asked them why they could not be more like the Happy Prince, who never dreamed of crying for anything. Disappointed men gazed up at the shining statue and muttered that they were glad there was somebody in the world who was perfectly happy, and the children from the charity school declared that he looked exactly like an angel.

One night a little Swallow flew over the city. His friends had departed for Egypt six weeks earlier, but he had remained behind, because he had fallen in love with a graceful Reed beside the river, and he had spent the entire summer circling around her. When autumn arrived, however, he discovered that the Reed had no conversation, was hopelessly attached to her home, and flirted shamelessly with the wind, so he finally said goodbye and set off alone. All day he flew, and at nightfall he arrived at the city. Searching for a place to rest, he noticed the statue on its tall column. "I will stay there," he announced. "It is a splendid position, with plenty of fresh air." So he alighted just between the feet of the Happy Prince.

"I have a golden bedroom," he observed softly to himself, preparing to sleep. But just as he was tucking his head beneath his wing, a large drop of water fell upon him. "What a curious thing!" he exclaimed. "There is not a single cloud in the sky, the stars are perfectly clear and bright, and yet it is raining." Then another drop fell, and he looked up and saw that the eyes of the Happy Prince were filled with tears, which 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 asked. "I am the Happy Prince," said the statue. "Then why are you weeping?" asked the Swallow. "You have completely 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 a palace where sorrow was not permitted to enter. In the daytime I played with my companions in the garden, and in the evening I led the dancing in the Great Hall. Around the garden ran a lofty wall, but I never cared to ask what lay beyond it, because everything about me was so beautiful. My courtiers called me the Happy Prince, and happy indeed I was, if pleasure be happiness. 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, I cannot choose but weep."

Part Two · The Ruby, the Sapphires and the Gold

"Far away," continued the statue in a low, musical voice, "in a narrow street, there is a poor house, and through an open window 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, embroidering flowers on a satin gown for the loveliest of the Queen's maids of honor to wear at the next court ball. In a bed in the corner of the room, her little boy is lying ill with a fever, asking for oranges, but his mother has nothing to give him except water from the river, so he is crying. Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow, will you not bring her the ruby from my sword hilt? My feet are fastened to this pedestal, and I cannot move."

The Swallow explained impatiently that he was expected in Egypt, where his friends were flying up and down the Nile and talking to the large lotus flowers. 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." 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, and he passed by the palace and heard the sound of dancing. When he reached the poor house, he dropped the ruby on the table beside the woman's thimble, and then he flew gently around the bed, fanning the boy's forehead with his wings.

"How cool I feel!" murmured the boy, "I must be getting better," and he sank into a delicious slumber. Then the Swallow flew back to the Happy Prince and reported 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. The next day the Swallow announced that he would depart for Egypt that very evening. But the Prince begged him to stay one night longer. In a garret across the city, he said, a young writer was leaning over a desk covered with papers, attempting to finish a play for the director of the theater, but he was too cold to write any more, for there was no fire in the grate, and hunger had made him faint.

"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 jeweler and buy firewood, and finish his play." The Swallow began to weep and protested that he could not possibly do such a thing, but the Prince commanded him, and so the Swallow obeyed. The young writer discovered the beautiful sapphire lying among the withered violets on his desk, and he believed it came from some admirer of his work. The following night, the Prince sent the other sapphire to a little match girl in the square below, who had dropped her matches in the gutter, and who was afraid to go home.

Part Three · Winter

"You are blind now," said the Swallow, "so I will stay with you always," and he slept at the Prince's feet. All the next day he sat on the Prince's shoulder and described the marvelous things he had seen in strange lands: the red ibises standing in long rows on the banks of the Nile, the Sphinx, who is as old as the world itself and knows everything, and the merchants who walk slowly beside their camels carrying amber beads in their hands. "Dear little Swallow," said the Prince, "you tell me of marvelous things, but more marvelous 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 listlessly out at the black streets, and under the archway of a bridge two little boys were lying in one another's arms to keep themselves warm. Then he flew back and told the Prince everything 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 the Swallow picked off, until the Happy Prince looked quite dull and gray, and the children's faces grew rosy.

Then the snow came, and after the snow came the bitter frost, and the city shivered. The streets looked as if they were made of silver, and long icicles hung like crystal daggers from the eaves. The poor little Swallow grew colder and colder, but he would not leave the Prince, because he loved him too well. He picked up crumbs outside the baker's door, and tried to keep himself warm by flapping his wings. But at last he understood that he was going to die. He had just enough strength to fly up to the Prince's shoulder once more, and he settled there. "Goodbye, dear Prince," he murmured. "Will you let me kiss your hand?" "I am glad that you are going to Egypt at last," said the Prince, "but you must kiss me on the lips, for I love you."

"It is not to Egypt that I am going," said the Swallow gently. "I am going to the House of Sleep, and Sleep is the brother of Death, is he not?" And he kissed the Happy Prince on the lips, and fell down peacefully at his feet. At that moment a curious crack sounded inside the statue, for the leaden heart had snapped right in two. The next morning the Mayor walked through the square with the town councillors and looked up at the column. "How shabby the Happy Prince looks!" he exclaimed. "His ruby has fallen out of his sword, his eyes are gone, and he is golden no longer." So they pulled the statue down and melted it in a furnace, but the broken lead heart would not melt, and it was thrown on a dust heap, where the little Swallow lay.

"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 little 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 people of the city never knew what had happened. But the seamstress's son recovered from his fever, the young writer finished his play, the little match girl went home with a sapphire in her pocket, and many hungry children ate warm bread that winter, without ever discovering whom they ought to thank. And in a garden far beyond the clouds, a small bird sang beside a heart that had finally learned what happiness was.