Happy
Prince
Story by Oscar Wilde
June - 16 - 2012 (Saturday)
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 weather cock," remarked one of the Town Councilors 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 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. When the reed finally
declined to fly away with the swallow to distant lands to marry him, the
swallow cried : "You have been trifling with me, 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. "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 river 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 Councilors. 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 Councilors,
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
little better than a beggar!"
"Little better than a beggar," said the Town
Councilors.
"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 mine."
"Of myself," said each of the Town Councilors, and
they quarreled. 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 world,"
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."
Moral
: Serving the suffering humanity is the best
service to God. Compiler : Prof. Komaragiri Venkata Ramana Rao.
Ph.D., (Retired Professor; Andhra University College of Engineering);
Astrologer-Scienitst. Durham. NC; U.S.A.: (Tatayya = Grand-father). My e-mail
address : pandit@jyothishi.com----------
I dedicate all these stories in the blog to Sri Parama Paalakas (Supreme Rulers of this entire
Universe): Bhagavan Sri Siddhi Vinayaka,
Sri Lakshmi Narayana and Sri Gouri Sankara and Sri Saraswathi and
Bhagavan Sri Venkateswara !
