The Happy Prince Page #3

								


“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
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