The Happy Prince

And Other Tales

By Oscar Wilde

Pictures by Walter Crane and Jacomb Hood

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The Happy Prince

High above the city stood a tall stone pillar. On top of it stood a statue of the Happy Prince. He was covered all over in thin gold. His eyes were bright blue jewels called sapphires. On his sword handle, a red jewel called a ruby glowed.

Everyone thought the statue was beautiful.

"He is as pretty as a weathervane," said one town leader. (A weathervane is a spinning arrow on a roof that shows which way the wind blows.) "But not as useful," he added quickly, so people wouldn't think he only cared about pretty things.

"Why can't you be like the Happy Prince?" a mother asked her little boy, who was crying because he wanted the moon. "The Happy Prince never cries for things he can't have."

"I'm glad someone in this world is happy," said a sad man, looking up at the statue.

"He looks just like an angel," said the children from the church, in their red coats and white aprons.

"How do you know?" asked their teacher. "You've never seen an angel."

"We have — in our dreams!" the children said. Their teacher frowned. He did not like children dreaming.

One night, a little swallow bird flew over the city. His swallow friends had flown to Egypt six weeks before, for the winter. But he had stayed behind. He was in love with a beautiful reed plant that grew by the river.

He had met her in spring, while chasing a big yellow moth. He liked her so much he stopped to talk to her.

"Shall I love you?" the swallow asked, because he liked to get straight to the point. The reed bowed low. So all summer, he flew circles around her, touching the water with his wings.

"What a silly match," the other swallows said. "She has no money, and too many relatives." (The river was indeed full of reeds.) Then autumn came, and all the swallows flew away.

After they left, the little swallow felt lonely. He grew tired of his reed.

"She never talks," he said. "And I think she flirts with the wind — every time it blows, she bows to it!" He also said, "She loves her home too much, but I love to travel. My wife should love to travel too."

"Will you come away with me?" he finally asked her. But the reed shook her head. She loved her home too much to leave.

"You've just been playing with me!" the swallow cried. "I'm off to the Pyramids in Egypt. Goodbye!" And he flew away.

He flew all day. At night, he reached the city.

"Where should I stay?" he wondered. Then he saw the statue on the tall pillar.

"I'll stay there," he said. "It's a good spot, with plenty of fresh air." So he landed right between the Happy Prince's feet.

"I have a golden bedroom!" he said happily, getting ready to sleep. But just as he tucked his head under his wing, a big drop of water fell on him.

"How strange," he said. "There's not a cloud in the sky. The stars are bright and clear. Why is it raining?"

Another drop fell.

"What good is a statue if it can't keep the rain off?" he said. "I should find a chimney to sleep in instead." He got ready to fly away.

But before he opened his wings, a third drop fell. He looked up — and what did he see?

The Happy Prince's eyes were full of tears! Tears ran down his golden cheeks. His face looked so beautiful and sad in the moonlight that the little swallow felt sorry for him.

"Who are you?" the swallow asked.

"I am the Happy Prince."

"Then why are you crying?" asked the swallow. "You've gotten me all wet!"

"When I was alive, with a real human heart," the statue answered, "I didn't know what tears were. I lived in a beautiful palace, where sadness was never allowed. In the day, I played with my friends in the garden. At night, I danced in the great hall. A tall wall went all around the garden, but I never wondered what was beyond it — everything around me was so lovely already. Everyone called me the Happy Prince, and I was happy, if having fun is the same as being happy. That's how I lived, and that's how I died. Now that I'm dead, they've put me up so high that I can see all the sadness and ugliness in my city. My heart is made of lead, but I still cannot stop myself from crying."

"Wait — he isn't solid gold?" the swallow thought to himself. But he was too polite to say it out loud.

"Far away," the statue continued softly, "on a small street, there's a poor house. One window is open. Inside, I can see a woman sitting at a table. Her face is thin and tired, and her hands are rough and pricked with needle marks — she sews clothes for a living. She is sewing flowers onto a fancy dress for a rich lady to wear to a royal ball. In the corner of the room, her little boy lies sick in bed. He has a fever and is asking for oranges. But his mother has nothing to give him except river water, so he cries. Little swallow, will you bring her the ruby from my sword? My feet are stuck to this stone, and I cannot move."

"But I'm expected in Egypt," said the swallow. "My friends are flying over the Nile River, talking to the big flowers there. Soon they will rest near the tomb of a great king. The king lies there in a painted coffin, wrapped in cloth and sweet spices. He wears a necklace of green stone, and his hands look like dried leaves."

"Little swallow," said the prince, "won't you stay with me just one night, and carry my message? The boy is so thirsty, and his mother so sad."

"I don't think I like boys very much," said the swallow. "Last summer, two rude boys kept throwing stones at me. They never hit me — swallows fly too well for that — but it still wasn't very nice."

But the Happy Prince looked so sad that the swallow felt sorry for him. "It's very cold here," he said, "but I will stay one night, and carry your message."

"Thank you, little swallow," said the prince.

So the swallow pulled the big ruby from the prince's sword. He flew off with it in his beak, over the roofs of the town.

He flew past the church tower, past carved stone angels. He flew past the palace, where he heard music and dancing. A beautiful girl stood on a balcony with someone she loved.

"Look how wonderful the stars are," the man said to her, "and how wonderful love is!"

"I just hope my dress is ready for the ball," she replied. "I ordered flowers sewn on it, but the sewing women are so slow."

The swallow flew over the river, past lanterns hanging from ship masts. He flew over the market, where old traders counted coins. Finally, he reached the poor house and looked inside.

The sick boy tossed and turned in his bed. His tired mother had fallen asleep. The swallow hopped inside and laid the ruby on the table, right next to her sewing needle. Then he flew gently around the boy's bed, fanning his hot forehead with his wings.

"How cool I feel," the boy said. "I must be getting better." And he fell into a peaceful sleep.

The swallow flew back to the Happy Prince and told him what he had done.

"It's strange," the swallow said, "but I feel warm now, even though it's so cold outside."

"That's because you did something kind," said the prince.

The little swallow thought about this — and thinking always made him sleepy — so he fell asleep too.

When morning came, he flew down to the river for a bath.

"What an amazing thing!" said a bird scientist crossing the bridge. "A swallow, in winter!" He wrote a long letter about it to the newspaper. Everyone quoted his big, fancy words, even though nobody understood them.

"Tonight, I go to Egypt," the swallow said, feeling excited. He visited all the famous statues in town and sat a long time on the church steeple. Everywhere he went, sparrows chirped, "What a fancy visitor!" So he had a wonderful day.

When the moon rose, he flew back to the Happy Prince. "Do you have any messages for Egypt?" he called out. "I'm about to leave!"

"Little swallow," said the prince, "won't you stay with me one more night?"

"But I'm expected in Egypt," the swallow answered. "Tomorrow my friends will fly further up the river. Hippos rest among the reeds there, and a stone statue of a god sits on a throne. All night, the statue watches the stars. When the morning star appears, it cries out with joy, then falls silent. At noon, yellow lions come to drink from the water. Their eyes shine like green jewels, and their roars are louder than the rushing river."

"Little swallow," said the prince, "far across the city, I see a young man in a small attic room. He leans over a desk full of papers. Beside him sits a cup with dead flowers in it. His hair is brown and curly, his lips are red, and his eyes are big and dreamy. He is trying to finish writing a play for a theater director, but he is too cold to write anymore. There is no fire to warm the room, and he is weak from hunger."

"I will stay with you one more night," said the swallow, who truly had a kind heart. "Should I bring him a ruby too?"

"I have no more rubies," said the prince sadly. "My eyes are all I have left. They are made of rare, precious sapphires, brought from far away long ago. Take one out, and bring it to him. He can sell it to the jewel—