The Happy Prince

High above a busy city stood a statue called the Happy Prince. He was covered in thin leaves of fine gold. His eyes were bright blue sapphires, and a large red ruby shone on the hilt of his sword. People looked up and said, "How beautiful he is! He must be very happy."

One evening, a little Swallow flew over the city. All his friends had already flown to warm Egypt, where the sun shines and the palm trees grow by the Nile. The Swallow had stayed behind for a while because he loved a tall reed by the river, but the reed would not travel, and the Swallow was a bird of the open sky. At last he said goodbye and set off alone. As night fell, he looked for a place to rest. "I will sleep between the feet of the Happy Prince," he said. "There is plenty of fresh air there."

Just as he tucked his head under his wing, a large drop of water fell on him. "What a strange thing!" he cried. "There is not a cloud in the sky, and yet it is raining." Another drop fell, and then a third. The Swallow looked up. The eyes of the Happy Prince were full of tears, which flowed down his golden cheeks.

"Who are you? And why are you crying?" asked the Swallow.

"I am the Happy Prince," said the statue. "When I was alive, I lived in a palace where sorrow was not allowed to enter. I played in a garden full of roses, and my companions called me happy. I never knew what tears were. After I died, they set me up here so high that I can see all the unhappiness of my city. My heart is made of lead, yet it feels very heavy from what I see, and that is why I weep."

He looked far across the rooftops. "Far away, in a little house, I see a poor woman. Her hands are rough from work, and she is sewing dresses for rich people. In the corner, her little boy lies ill with a fever. He asks for oranges, but his mother has only river water to give him. Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow, will you not take the ruby from my sword-hilt to her?"

"It is very cold here," said the Swallow, "and I must go to Egypt. But I will stay with you one night and be your messenger." He pulled the ruby from the sword with his beak and flew over the dark roofs. He looked in at the window and saw the boy tossing in his sleep, and the mother bent over her needle. He laid the red jewel on the table beside her thimble, then gently fanned the child's hot forehead with his wings. "How cool I feel," the boy whispered, and fell into a peaceful sleep. The Swallow flew back to the Happy Prince. "It is curious," he said, "but I feel quite warm now, though it is cold."

"That is because you have done a good thing," said the Prince. "Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow, will you stay with me one more night?"

"I must fly to Egypt," said the Swallow, "but I will stay one more night."

"Across the city," said the Prince, "in a tiny attic lives a young writer. He is trying to finish a play for the director of the theatre, but he is too cold to write. There is no fire, and he is faint with hunger. Take him one of my eyes."

"Dear Prince," said the Swallow, "I cannot do that." And he began to cry. "Do as I command you," said the Prince. So the Swallow pulled out the Prince’s sapphire eye and carried it to the attic. He slipped in through a hole in the roof. The writer sat with his head in his hands. When he looked up, he found the jewel on the dried violets on his table. "Now I can buy firewood and bread," he said, and joy came back to his face.

The Swallow returned. "I will stay with you one more night," he said, for he had grown to love the Prince.

"In the square below," said the Prince, "stands a little match-girl. She has dropped her matches into the gutter, and they are spoiled. If she returns without money, her father will be angry. Take her my other eye, and she will not be beaten."

"I will stay with you always," said the Swallow, and he pulled out the second sapphire. He flew to the girl and slipped the jewel into her small hand. "What a lovely piece of glass!" she cried, and she laughed and ran home with shining eyes.

The Swallow flew back to the Prince. "Now you are blind," he said. "I will stay with you always."

"No, little Swallow," said the poor Prince, "you must go to Egypt."

"I will stay," said the Swallow. So he stayed, and by day he sat on the Prince’s shoulder and told him what he saw. He saw hungry children with blue lips, men trying to warm their hands at tiny fires, and women bending under heavy loads.

"Take the gold that covers me," said the Prince. "Leaf by leaf, give it to the people who need it." Day after day, the Swallow picked off the Prince’s thin gold leaves and carried them to the poor. The children’s faces grew rosier, the hungry had bread, and the cold found warmth. At last the Happy Prince looked grey and dull. The wind grew sharper. The snow came, and frost painted the city silver.

The little Swallow grew colder and colder, but he would not leave the Prince. He found a warm nook under the statue and flapped his wings to keep the Prince company. "I am going to Egypt tomorrow," he whispered at last. "It is not Egypt that you are going to," said the Prince gently, "but to the House of Sleep."

"I am not afraid," said the Swallow. He kissed the Prince on the lips and fell down dead at his feet. At that moment, a curious crack sounded inside the statue. The leaden heart had broken in two.

The next day, the Mayor and the Town Councillors walked through the square. They looked up. "How shabby the Happy Prince looks!" said the Mayor. "Shabby indeed!" said the Councillors. "He is no longer splendid at all." They took the statue down. "He shall be melted in a furnace and made into something useful," they decided. But when they melted him, the lead heart would not melt. "What a strange thing!" they said, and they threw it onto a dust-heap, where the dead Swallow also lay.

That night, in the highest heavens, God spoke to His angels. "Bring me the two most precious things in the city," He said. The angels flew down and picked up the broken lead heart and the little dead bird.

"You have chosen rightly," said God. "This little bird shall sing forever in My garden, and the Happy Prince shall praise Me in My City of Gold." And there, at last, the Prince and the Swallow were truly happy—not because of jewels or gold, but because of the love they had given.