Liza Lehmann - The Happy Prince

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 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

"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, 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

"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. "i am off to the pyramids," he cried. "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, but just as he was putting his head under his wing a large drop of water fell on him
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

"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

"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. 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. 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. the king is there himself in his painted coffin. he is wrapped in yellow linen, and embalmed with spices. round his neck is a chain of pale green jade, and his hands are like withered leaves."