Happy Prince ((Illustrated Treasure Edition))

Author: Oscar Wilde
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2005-01-01
Features: God had almost given me everything—genius, fame, social status, wit, and a spirit for challenge. I made art a philosophy and philosophy an art. I changed the hearts of people and the colors of things. Every word and action of mine was full of mystery. The statue of the Happy Prince stood tall in the city—on a high column. It was covered with thin gold leaves, its eyes made of bright blue sapphires, and a large, shining red gem was embedded in its hilt. The world admired him greatly. "He is as beautiful as a weather vane," said a city councilman who wanted to show his artistic taste, then added, worried that people would think him impractical (though he was quite practical), "but he is not as useful as a weather vane." "Why can't you be like the Happy Prince?" said a wise mother to her little boy who was crying for the moon, "The Happy Prince never dreamed of crying for things." "It makes me so happy to see such a joyful person in the world," murmured a discouraged man as he stared at the extraordinary statue. "He looks like an angel," said the orphans. They had just come out of the church, draped in bright red cloaks, with clean, white kerchiefs around their chests. "How do you know?" asked the math teacher. "You've never seen an angel." "Ah! But we have," replied the children. "We saw them in our dreams." The math teacher frowned and tightened his expression, disapproving of the children dreaming. One night, a little swallow flew over the city. His friends had already flown to Egypt six weeks earlier, but he stayed behind, too fond of the beautiful reed girl. He had met her in early spring while chasing a yellow butterfly along the river. He was captivated by her slender waist and stopped to talk to her. "Can I love you?" asked the swallow, preferring to get straight to the point. The reed bent down to him, and he flew around her in circles, gently brushing the water with his wings, creating layers of silver ripples. This was the swallow's way of courtship, and he did so all summer. "What a ridiculous love," chuckled the other swallows. "She has neither money nor many relatives." Indeed, there were reeds everywhere by the river. When autumn came, the swallows flew away. After everyone left, he felt very lonely and began to dislike his lover. "She can't speak," he said. "And I worry she's a harlot; you see, she always flirts with the wind." That was true—when the wind blew, the reed would perform an elegant bow. "I admit she's a homemaker," continued the swallow, "but I love to travel, and of course, my wife should love to travel too." "Will you come with me?" he asked. But the reed shook her head; she was too attached to her home. "You're just teasing me," he roared. "I'm going to the pyramids! Goodbye!" And he flew away. He flew all day and only arrived in the city at night. "Where will I spend the night?" he said. "I hope the city is ready." Then he saw the statue on the tall column. "I'll spend the night there," he called out. "It's a good place, full of fresh air." So he made a nest between the statue's legs. "I have a gold bedroom," he whispered to himself after looking around, preparing to sleep. But just as he placed his head under his wings, a large drop of water fell on him. "How incredible!" he exclaimed. "There are no clouds in the sky, the stars are clear and bright, yet it's raining. The weather in the North is terrible. The reed likes rain, but that's just selfish." Another drop fell. "A statue can't even protect itself from the rain—what use is it?" he said. "I must find a good chimney for a nest." He decided to leave. But before he could spread his wings, another drop fell. He looked up and saw—Ah! What did he see? The Happy Prince's eyes were filled with tears, streaming down his golden face. His face was beautiful under the moonlight, and the little swallow felt compassion. "Who are you?" he asked. "I am the Happy Prince." "Why are you crying?" the swallow asked again. "You're getting my feathers wet." "When I had a heart and lived," the statue said, "I didn't know what tears were. I lived in a carefree palace where sorrow couldn't enter. During the day, people played with me in the garden, and at night, I led the dance in the hall. Along the garden stood a high wall, but I never thought about what was on the other side—I was too happy with what I had. My servants called me the Happy Prince, and indeed, if joy is happiness, then I was the happiest. I lived and died like this. Now that I am dead, they have placed me so high that I can see all the ugliness and poverty in my city. Though my heart is made of lead, I can't help but cry." "Ah! He isn't a heartless golden statue," the swallow thought. Polite, he didn't want to comment on others' private matters. "Far away," the statue continued in a soft, pleasant voice, "in a small street, there lives a poor family. A window is open, and I can see a woman sitting at a table. Her thin face is full of fatigue, her rough, red hands are covered with needle pricks, for she is a seamstress. She is embroidering a lily on satin clothes, which are for the maids of the queen to wear at the next court dance. In the corner of the room, on a bed, lies her sick child. The child has a fever and cries for oranges. His mother has only given him some river water, so he cries constantly. Swallow, little swallow, would you take the red gem from my hilt and give it to her? My feet are fixed to this base and cannot move." "My friends are waiting for me in Egypt," the swallow said. "They are flying around the Nile, talking to the big lotus flowers, and soon they will spend the night in the tombs of the great pharaohs. The pharaoh himself sleeps in his colorful coffin, his body wrapped in yellow linen and filled with preservatives. A light green jade necklace adorns his neck, and his hands are like withered leaves." "Swallow, little swallow," the prince said again, "won't you stay with me one night and be my messenger? The child is so hungry, and his mother is heartbroken." "I don't like children," the swallow replied. Last summer, I visited a river where two mischievous boys, the sons of the miller, always threw stones at me. Of course, they never hit me—we swallows fly so fast, and besides, I come from a family famous for speed. But still, it was impolite." However, the Happy Prince's sorrowful expression made the little swallow's heart ache. "It's too cold here," he said, "but I will stay with you one night and be your messenger." "Thank you, little swallow," the prince said. So the swallow took the large red gem from the prince's hilt, held it in his beak, and flew over the city's rooftops toward the distance. He flew over the cathedral's tower, where he saw a white marble statue of an angel. He flew over the palace, hearing the sound of dancing. A beautiful girl and her lover were walking on the rooftop. "What wonderful stars!" she said. "What wonderful love!" "I hope my dress will be finished in time for the grand dance," she replied. "I have asked them to embroider lilies, but the seamstresses are too slow." He flew over the river, seeing countless lanterns hanging from the masts of ships. He flew over the Jewish quarter, where old Jews were haggling over goods, placing coins on copper scales. Finally, he arrived at the poor family's house and looked inside. The feverish child was tossing in bed, and his mother had fallen asleep from exhaustion. He jumped inside, placed the large red gem on the woman's pincushion, and then gently flew around the bed, fanning the child's forehead with his wings. "I feel so cool," the child said. "I must be getting better." And he fell into a sweet sleep. Then the swallow returned to the Happy Prince and told him what he had done. "Do you think it's strange?" he said, "Although it's cold, I feel so warm now." "That's because you did a good deed," the prince said. So the little swallow began to think about the prince's words, but he didn't stay awake for long. At dawn, he flew down to the river for a bath. "What a strange phenomenon," a professor of ornithology said as he walked across the bridge. "Swallows in winter!" He wrote a long letter to the local newspaper about it. Everyone quoted his words, though many of the terms were hard to understand. "Tonight I'm going to Egypt," the swallow said, and thinking of the distant land filled him with energy. He visited all the public monuments in the city and sat on the top of the church for a long time. At each place, the sparrows chattered among themselves, "What a rare and honored guest!" So he had a wonderful time. When the moon rose, he flew back to the Happy Prince. "Do you have anything to do in Egypt?" he asked loudly. "I'm leaving now." "Swallow, little swallow," the prince said, "won't you stay with me one more night?" "My friends are waiting for me in Egypt," the swallow replied. "Tomorrow my friends will fly to the Second Cataract, where the hippopotamuses sleep in the reeds. The god Menes of ancient Egypt sits on a huge granite throne, guarding the stars all night. Whenever the stars twinkle, he lets out a joyful cry, then falls silent. At noon, yellow herds of lions descend from the mountains to drink at the river, their eyes like green gems, roaring louder than the cataracts." "Swallow, little swallow," the prince said, "over there at the other end of the city, I see a young man living in the attic. He is studying at a desk covered in papers, a bouquet of withered violets in a glass beside him. He has brown curly hair, lips like pomegranates, and big, drowsy eyes. He is trying to write a play for the theater manager, but he can't write because he's frozen. The fireplace has no wood, and hunger makes his head spin." "I will stay with you one more night," the swallow said, indeed having a kind heart. "Shall I give him another red gem?" "Alas! I have no red gems left," the prince said. "Only my eyes remain. They are made of rare blue sapphires, mined over a thousand years ago in India. Take one of them and give it to him. He can sell it to a jeweler for food and wood to finish his play." "Dear prince," the swallow said, "I cannot do that," and he began to cry. "Swallow, little swallow," the prince said, "do as I say." So the swallow took the prince's eye, flew to the student's attic. Because there was a hole in the roof, it was easy for the swallow to enter. He flew through the hole and into the room. The young man, hands covering his face, didn't hear the swallow's wings. When he lifted his head, he saw the beautiful blue gem placed on the withered violets. "I am beginning to be appreciated," he exclaimed. "It must be from someone who admires me greatly. Now I can finish my play." A happy smile spread across his face. The next day, the swallow flew to the harbor and sat on the mast of a large ship, watching sailors dragging big boxes out of the hold. With their cries of "Heave ho! Heave ho!" the boxes were lifted one by one. "I'm going to Egypt!" the swallow said, but no one paid attention. When the moon rose, he flew back to the Happy Prince. "I'm here to say goodbye," he called. "Swallow, little swallow," the prince said, "won't you stay with me one more night?" "Winter has come," the swallow replied. "Cold snow is coming. In Egypt, the sun hangs in green palm trees, and it's warm there. Crocodiles lie lazily in the mud, surveying their surroundings. My friends are building nests in the temples of Baalbek, and pink and silver doves are watching them work, whispering sweet nothings to each other. Dear prince, I must leave you, but I will never forget you. Next spring, I will bring you two beautiful gems to make up for the ones you have given away—the red gem will be as red as a rose, and the blue gem will be bluer than the sea." "Down in the square," the Happy Prince said, "stands a little matchgirl. All her matches have fallen into the gutter and are no longer usable. If she doesn't take money home, her father will beat her, and she is crying. She has no shoes or socks, and nothing on her head. Please take my other eye and give it to her so her father won't beat her." "I will stay with you one more night," the swallow said, "but I cannot take your eyes, or you will become blind." "Swallow, little swallow," the prince said, "do as I say." So the swallow took the prince's other eye and flew down. He landed in front of the little girl and quietly placed the gem in her palm. "What beautiful glass!" the girl exclaimed, laughing as she ran home. Then the swallow returned to the prince. "Now you are blind," the swallow said. "I will stay with you forever." "No, little swallow," the poor prince said, "you must go to Egypt." "I will stay with you," the swallow said, and he fell asleep at the prince's feet. The next day, he sat on the prince's shoulder all day, telling him about his adventures in foreign lands. He told him about the red herons, standing in long lines on the banks of the Nile, catching goldfish with their sharp beaks. He spoke of the Sphinx, ancient as the world, living in the desert, knowing everything in the world. He told of the merchants, slowly marching with their camel trains, holding wolf-fat beads in their hands. He spoke of the king of Moon Mountain, whose skin was as black as ebony, worshipping a huge crystal. He told of the green giant snake that slept in the palm trees, which required twenty monks to feed it with honey cakes. He spoke of the little dwarfs, who rode flat leaves in the lakes, constantly fighting with butterflies." "Dear little swallow," the prince said, "you have told me so many wonderful things, but nothing is more wonderful than the suffering of men and women. Nothing is more incredible than suffering. Little swallow, fly over the city and tell me what you see from above." So the swallow flew over the city and saw the rich people enjoying themselves in their beautiful mansions, while the beggars sat at the gates, hungry and starving. He flew into the dark alleys, where hungry children with pale faces stared blankly at the dim streets, hugging each other for warmth inside a bridge arch. "We are so hungry!" they said. "You can't lie here," the guard said, and the children shuffled away into the rain. Then he flew back and told the prince everything he had seen. "I am covered in fine gold leaves," the prince said. "You take them piece by piece and give them to my poor people. The living believe that gold will make them happy." The swallow pecked off the pure gold leaves one by one until the Happy Prince was no longer golden. He gave these golden leaves to the poor people, and the children's faces flushed with joy as they played games in the streets. "We have bread now!" the children shouted. Then it snowed, and after the snow came the cold. The streets looked white as silver, bright and dazzling; long icicles hung like crystal swords from the eaves. Everyone wore fur coats, and even the children wore red hats to skate outdoors. The poor little swallow felt colder and colder, but he refused to leave the prince, for he loved him so much. He had to sneak some breadcrumbs from the baker when he wasn't looking, flapping his wings to warm himself. But in the end, he knew he was dying. His remaining strength was just enough to fly back to the prince's shoulder once more. "Goodbye, dear prince!" he whispered. "Will you let me kiss your hand?" "I am so glad you are finally going to Egypt, little swallow," the prince said. "You've stayed here too long. But you must kiss my lips, for I love you." "I am not going to Egypt," the swallow said. "I am going to the house of death. Death is the brother of long sleep, isn't it?" Then he kissed the prince's lips and fell at the prince's feet, dead. At that moment, a strange crack came from inside the statue. Something had broken. In fact, the prince's lead heart had split in two. It was indeed a terrible cold winter. The next morning, the mayor, accompanied by the city councilmen, took a walk down to the square. As they passed the column, the mayor looked up at the statue. "Good heavens! How ugly the Happy Prince has become!" he said. "He is terribly ugly!" the councilmen exclaimed in unison, always agreeing with the mayor. Everyone stepped forward to take a closer look. "The red gem on his hilt has fallen, and his blue gem eyes are gone. He is no longer golden," the mayor said. "In fact, he is no better than a beggar!" "Indeed, no better than a beggar," the councilmen agreed. "And there's a dead bird lying at his feet!" the mayor continued. "We should issue a statement, prohibiting birds from dying here." So the city clerk recorded this suggestion. Later, they pushed over the statue of the Happy Prince. "Since he is no longer beautiful, he is no longer useful," said the university's professor of art. Then they melted the statue in the furnace. The mayor called a meeting of the city council to decide what to do with the metal, of course. "We must cast a new statue," he said. "That should be my statue." "My statue," each councilman said, competing for the honor. They even argued. I later heard that their argument was still going on. "What a strange and wonderful thing!" the foreman of the foundry said. "That broken lead heart won't melt in the furnace. We have to throw it away." They threw it into the garbage heap, along with the dead swallow. "Bring me the two most precious things in the city," God said to one of his angels. So the angel brought the lead heart and the dead bird back to God. "Your choice was perfect," God said. "For in my heavenly garden, birds can sing forever, and in my golden castle, the Happy Prince can praise me endlessly."