夜莺与玫瑰-第11部分

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und　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　e　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。
“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；　“you　have　quite　drenched　me。”
“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　panions　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。　He　was　too　polite　to　make　any　personal　remarks　out　loud。
“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，　and　she　has　coarse，　red　hands，　all　pricked　by　the　needle，　for　she　is　a　seamstress。　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。　He　has　a　fever，　and　is　asking　for　oranges。　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。”
“Swallow，　Swallow，　little　Swallow，”　said　the　Prince，　“will　you　not　stay　with　me　for　one　night，　and　be　my　messenger？　The　boy　is　so　thirsty，　and　the　mother　so　sad。”
“I　don’t　think　I　like　boys，”　answered　the　Swallow。　“Last　summer，　when　I　was　staying　on　the　river，　there　were　two　rude　boys，　the　miller’s　sons，　who　were　always　throwing　stones　at　me。　They　never　hit　me，　of　course；　we　swallows　fly　far　too　well　for　that，　and　besides，　I　e　of　a　family　famous　for　its　agility；　but　still，　it　was　a　mark　of　disrespect。”
But　the　Happy　Prince　looked　so　sad　that　the　little　Swallow　was　sorry。　“It　is　very　cold　here，”　he　said；　“but　I　will　stay　with　you　for　one　night，　and　be　your　messenger。”
“Thank　you，　little　Swallow，”　said　the　Prince。
So　the　Swallow　picked　out　the　great　ruby　from　the　Prince’s　sword，　and　flew　away　with　it　in　his　beak　over　the　roofs　of　the　town。
He　passed　by　the　cathedral　tower，　where　the　white　marble　angels　were　sculptured。　He　passed　by　the　palace　and　heard　the　sound　of　dancing。　A　beautiful　girl　came　out　on　the　balcony　with　her　lover。　“How　wonderful　the　stars　are，”　he　said　to　her，　“and　how　wonderful　is　the　power　of　love！”
“I　hope　my　dress　will　be　ready　in　time　for　the　State…ball，”　she　answered；　“I　have　ordered　passion…flowers　to　be　embroidered　on　it；　but　the　seamstresses　are　so　lazy。”
He　passed　over　the　river，　and　saw　the　lanterns　hanging　to　the　masts　of　the　ships。　He　passed　over　the　Ghetto，　and　saw　the　old　Jews　bargaining　with　each　other，　and　weighing　out　money　in　copper　scales。　At　last　he　came　to　the　poor　house　and　looked　in。　The　boy　was　tossing　feverishly　on　his　bed，　and　the　mother　had　fallen　asleep，　she　was　so　tired。　In　he　hopped，　and　laid　the　great　ruby　on　the　table　beside　the　woman’s　thimble。　Then　he　flew　gently　round　the　bed，　fanning　the　boy’s　forehead　with　his　wings。　“How　cool　I　feel，”　said　the　boy，　“I　must　be　getting　better；”　and　he　sank　into　a　delicious　slumber。
Then　the　Swallow　flew　back　to　the　Happy　Prince，　and　told　him　what　he　had　done。　“It　is　curious，”　he　remarked，　“but　I　feel　quite　warm　now，　although　it　is　so　cold。”
“That　is　because　you　have　done　a　good　action，”　said　the　Prince。　And　the　little　Swallow　began　to　think，　and　then　he　fell　asleep。　Thinking　always　made　him　sleepy。
When　day　broke　he　flew　down　to　the　river　and　had　a　bath。　“What　a　remarkable　phenomenon，”　said　the　Professor　of　Ornithology　as　he　was　passing　over　the　bridge。　“A　swallow　in　winter！”　And　he　wrote　a　long　letter　about　it　to　the　local　newspaper。　Every　one　quoted　it，　it　was　full　of　so　many　words　that　they　could　not　understand。
“Tonight　I　go　to　Egypt，”　said　the　Swallow，　and　he　was　in　high　spirits　at　the　prospect。　He　visited　all　the　public　monuments，　and　sat　a　long　time　on　top　of　the　church　steeple。　Wherever　he　went　the　Sparrows　chirruped，　and　said　to　each　other，　“What　a　distinguished　stranger！”　so　he　enjoyed　himself　very　much。
When　the　moon　rose　he　flew　back　to　the　Happy　Prince。　“Have　you　any　missions　for　Egypt？”　he　cried；　“I　am　just　starting。”
“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。　“Tomorrow　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　e　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　mand　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　e　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　pa