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第11部分（第1页）

“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　panions　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　you，　but　I　will　never　forget　you，　and　next　spring　I　will　bring　you　back　two　beautiful　jewels　in　place　of　those　you　have　given　away。　The　ruby　shall　be　redder　than　a　red　rose，　and　the　sapphire　shall　be　as　blue　as　the　great　sea。”

“In　the　square　below，”　said　the　Happy　Prince，　“there　stands　a　little　match…girl。　She　has　let　her　matches　fall　in　the　gutter，　and　they　are　all　spoiled。　Her　father　will　beat　her　if　she　does　not　bring　home　some　money，　and　she　is　crying。　She　has　no　shoes　or　stockings，　and　her　little　head　is　bare。　Pluck　out　my　other　eye，　and　give　it　to　her，　and　her　father　will　not　beat　her。”

“I　will　stay　with　you　one　night　longer，”　said　the　Swallow，　“but　I　cannot　pluck　out　your　eye。　You　would　be　quite　blind　then。”

“Swallow，　Swallow，　little　Swallow，”　said　the　Prince，　“do　as　I　mand　you。”

So　he　plucked　out　the　Prince’s　other　eye，　and　darted　down　with　it。　He　swooped　past　the　match…girl，　and　slipped　the　jewel　into　the　palm　of　her　hand。　“What　a　lovely　bit　of　glass，”　cried　the　little　girl；　and　she　ran　home，　laughing。

Then　the　Swallow　came　back　to　the　Prince。　“You　are　blind　now，”　he　said，　“so　I　will　stay　with　you　always。”

“No，　little　Swallow，”　said　the　poor　Prince，　“you　must　go　away　to　Egypt。”

“I　will　stay　with　you　always，”　said　the　Swallow，　and　he　slept　at　the　Prince’s　feet。

All　the　next　day　he　sat　on　the　Prince’s　shoulder，　and　told　him　stories　of　what　he　had　seen　in　strange　lands。　He　told　him　of　the　red　ibises，　who　stand　in　long　rows　on　the　banks　of　the　Nile，　and　catch　gold…fish　in　their　beaks；　of　the　Sphinx，　who　is　as　old　as　the　world　itself，　and　lives　in　the　desert，　and　knows　everything；　of　the　merchants，　who　walk　slowly　by　the　side　of　their　camels，　and　carry　amber　beads　in　their　hands；　of　the　King　of　the　Mountains　of　the　Moon，　who　is　as　black　as　ebony，　and　worships　a　large　crystal；　of　the　great　green　snake　that　sleeps　in　a　palm…tree，　and　has　twenty　priests　to　feed　it　with　honey…cakes；　and　of　the　pygmies　who　sail　over　a　big　lake　on　large　flat　leaves，　and　are　always　at　war　with　the　butterflies。

“Dear　little　Swallow，”　said　the　Prince，　“you　tell　me　of　marvellous　things，　but　more　marvellous　than　anything　is　the　suffering　of　men　and　of　women。　There　is　no　Mystery　so　great　as　Misery。　Fly　over　my　city，　little　Swallow，　and　tell　me　what　you　see　there。”

So　the　Swallow　flew　over　the　great　city，　and　saw　the　rich　making　merry　in　their　beautiful　houses，　while　the　beggars　were　sitting　at　the　gates。　He　flew　into　dark　lanes，　and　saw　the　white　faces　of　starving　children　looking　out　listlessly　at　the　black　streets。　Under　the　archway　of　a　bridge　two　little　boys　were　lying　in　one　another’s　arms　to　try　and　keep　themselves　warm。　“How　hungry　we　are！”　they　said。　“You　must　not　lie　here，”　shouted　the　Watchman，　and　they　wandered　out　into　the　rain。

Then　he　flew　back　and　told　the　Prince　what　he　had　seen。

“I　am　covered　with　fine　gold，”　said　the　Prince，　“you　must　take　it　off，　leaf　by　leaf，　and　give　it　to　my　poor；　the　living　always　think　that　gold　can　make　them　happy。”

Leaf　after　leaf　of　the　fine　gold　the　Swallow　picked　off，　till　the　Happy　Prince　looked　quite　dull　and　grey。　Leaf　after　leaf　of　the　fine　gold　he　brought　to　the　poor，　and　the　children’s　faces　grew　rosier，　and　they　laughed　and　played　games　in　the　street。　“We　have　bread　now！”　they　cried。

Then　the　snow　came，　and　after　the　snow　came　the　frost。　The　streets　looked　as　if　they　were　made　of　silver，　they　were　so　bright　and　glistening；　long　icicles　like　crystal　daggers　hung　down　from　the　eaves　of　the　houses，　everybody　went　about　in　furs，　and　the　little　boys　wore　scarlet　caps　and　skated　on　the　ice。

The　poor　little　Swallow　grew　colder　and　colder，　but　he　would　not　leave　the　Prince，　he　loved　him　too　well。　He　picked　up　crumbs　outside　the　baker’s　door　when　the　baker　was　not　looking　and　tried　to　keep　himself　warm　by　flapping　his　wings。

But　at　last　he　knew　that　he　was　going　to　die。　He　had　just　strength　to　fly　up　to　the　Prince’s　shoulder　once　more。　“Good…bye，　dear　Prince！”　he　murmured，　“will　you　let　me　kiss　your　hand？”

“I　am　glad　that　you　are　going　to　Egypt　at　last，　little　Swallow，”　said　the　Prince，　“you　have　stayed　too　long　here；　but　you　must　kiss　me　on　the　lips，　for　I　love　you。”

“It　is　not　to　Egypt　that　I　am　going，”　said　the　Swallow。　“I　am　going　to　the　House　of　Death。　Death　is　the　brother　of　Sleep，　is　he　not？”

And　he　kissed　the　Happy　Prince　on　the　lips，　and　fell　down　dead　at　his　feet。

At　that　moment　a　curious　crack　sounded　inside　the　statue，　as　if　something　had　broken。　The　fact　is　that　the　leaden　heart　had　snapped　right　in　two。　It　certainly　was　a　dreadfully　hard　frost。

Early　the　next　morning　the　Mayor　was　walking　in　the　square　below　in　pany　with　the　Town　Councillors。　As　they　passed　the　column　he　looked　up　at　the　statue：　“Dear　me！　how　shabby　the　Happy　Prince　looks！”　he　said。

“How　shabby　indeed！”　cried　the　Town　Councillors，　who　always　agreed　with　the　Mayor；　and　they　went　up　to　look　at　it。

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