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
weathercock,” remarked one of the Town Councillors 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.
“Shall I love you?” said the Swallow, who liked to come to the
point at once, and the Reed made him a low bow. So he flew round
and round her, touching the water with his wings, and making silver
ripples. This was his courtship, and it lasted all through the
summer.
“It is a ridiculous attachment,” twittered the other Swallows;
“she has no money, and far too many relations”; and indeed the
river was quite full of Reeds. Then, when the autumn came they all
flew away.
After they had gone he felt lonely, and began to tire of his
lady-love. “She has no conversation,” he said, “and I am afraid
that she is a coquette, for she is always flirting with the wind.”
And certainly, whenever the wind blew, the Reed made the most
graceful curtseys. “I admit that she is domestic,” he continued,
“but I love travelling, and my wife, consequently, should love
travelling also.”
“Will you come away with me?” he said finally to her; but the
Reed shook her head, she was so attached to her home.
“You have been trifling with me,” he cried. “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.
