Student； 〃and my love will be of the pany。 If I bring her a red rose
she will dance with me till dawn。 If I bring her a red rose； I shall hold
her in my arms； and she will lean her head upon my shoulder； and her
hand will be clasped in mine。 But there is no red rose in my garden； so I
shall sit lonely； and she will pass me by。 She will have no heed of me；
and my heart will break。〃
〃Here indeed is the true lover；〃 said the Nightingale。 〃What I sing of；
he suffers … what is joy to me； to him is pain。 Surely Love is a wonderful
thing。 It is more precious than emeralds； and dearer than fine opals。
Pearls and pomegranates cannot buy it； nor is it set forth in the
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The Happy Prince and Other Tales
marketplace。 It may not be purchased of the merchants； nor can it be
weighed out in the balance for gold。〃
〃The musicians will sit in their gallery；〃 said the young Student； 〃and
play upon their stringed instruments； and my love will dance to the sound
of the harp and the violin。 She will dance so lightly that her feet will not
touch the floor； and the courtiers in their gay dresses will throng round her。
But with me she will not dance； for I have no red rose to give her〃； and he
flung himself down on the grass； and buried his face in his hands； and
wept。
〃Why is he weeping？〃 asked a little Green Lizard； as he ran past him
with his tail in the air。
〃Why； indeed？〃 said a Butterfly； who was fluttering about after a
sunbeam。
〃Why； indeed？〃 whispered a Daisy to his neighbour； in a soft； low
voice。
〃He is weeping for a red rose；〃 said the Nightingale。 〃For a red
rose？〃 they cried； 〃how very ridiculous！〃 and the little Lizard； who was
something of a cynic； laughed outright。
But the Nightingale understood the secret of the Student's sorrow； and
she sat silent in the oak…tree； and thought about the mystery of Love。
Suddenly she spread her brown wings for flight； and soared into the air。
She passed through the grove like a shadow； and like a shadow she sailed
across the garden。
In the centre of the grass…plot was standing a beautiful Rose…tree； and
when she saw it she flew over to it； and lit upon a spray。
〃Give me a red rose；〃 she cried； 〃and I will sing you my sweetest
song。〃
But the Tree shook its head。
〃My roses are white；〃 it answered； 〃as white as the foam of the sea；
and whiter than the snow upon the mountain。 But go to my brother who
grows round the old sun…dial； and perhaps he will give you what you
want。〃
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The Happy Prince and Other Tales
So the Nightingale flew over to the Rose…tree that was growing round
the old sun…dial。
〃Give me a red rose；〃 she cried； 〃and I will sing you my sweetest
song。〃
But the Tree shook its head。
〃My roses are yellow；〃 it answered； 〃as yellow as the hair of the
mermaiden who sits upon an amber throne； and yellower than the daffodil
that blooms in the meadow before the mower es with his scythe。 But
go to my brother who grows beneath the Student's window； and perhaps he
will give you what you want。〃
So the Nightingale flew over to the Rose…tree that was growing
beneath the Student's window。
〃Give me a red rose；〃 she cried； 〃and I will sing you my sweetest
song。〃
But the Tree shook its head。
〃My roses are red；〃 it answered； 〃as red as the feet of the dove； and
redder than the great fans of coral that wave and wave in the ocean…cavern。
But the winter has chilled my veins； and the frost has nipped my buds； and
the storm has broken my branches； and I shall have no roses at all this
year。〃
〃One red rose is all I want；〃 cried the Nightingale； 〃only one red rose！
Is there no way by which I can get it？〃
〃There is away；〃 answered the Tree； 〃but it is so terrible that I dare not
tell it to you。〃
〃Tell it to me；〃 said the Nightingale； 〃I am not afraid。〃
〃If you want a red rose；〃 said the Tree； 〃you must build it out of music
by moonlight； and stain it with your own heart's…blood。 You must sing to
me with your breast against a thorn。 All night long you must sing to me；
and the thorn must pierce your heart； and your life…blood must flow into
my veins； and bee mine。〃
〃Death is a great price to pay for a red rose；〃 cried the Nightingale；
〃and Life is very dear to all。 It is pleasant to sit in the green wood； and to
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The Happy Prince and Other Tales
watch the Sun in his chariot of gold； and the Moon in her chariot of pearl。
Sweet is the scent of the hawthorn； and sweet are the bluebells that hide in
the valley； and the heather that blows on the hill。 Yet Love is better than
Life； and what is the heart of a bird pared to the heart of a man？〃
So she spread her brown wings for flight； and soared into the air。 She
swept over the garden like a shadow； and like a shadow she sailed through
the grove。
The young Student was still lying on the grass； where she had left him；
and the tears were not yet dry in his beautiful eyes。
〃Be happy；〃 cried the Nightingale； 〃be happy； you shall have your red
rose。 I will build it out of music by moonlight； and stain it with my own
heart's…blood。 All that I ask of you in return is that you will be a true
lover； for Love is wiser than Philosophy； though she is wise； and mightier
than Power； though he is mighty。 Flame… coloured are his wings； and
coloured like flame is his body。 His lips are sweet as honey； and his
breath is like frankincense。〃
The Student looked up from the grass； and listened； but he could not
understand what the Nightingale was saying to him； for he only knew the
things that are written down in books。
But the Oak…tree understood； and felt sad； for he was very fond of the
little Nightingale who had built her nest in his branches。
〃Sing me one last song；〃 he whispered； 〃I shall feel very lonely when
you are gone。〃
So the Nightingale sang to the Oak…tree； and her voice was like water
bubbling from a silver jar。
When she had finished her song the Student got up； and pulled a note…
book and a lead…pencil out of his pocket。
〃She has form；〃 he said to himself； as he walked away through the
grove … 〃that cannot be denied to her； but has she got feeling？ I am afraid
not。 In fact； she is like most artists； she is all style； without any sincerity。
She would not sacrifice herself for others。 She thinks merely of music；
and everybody knows that the arts are selfish。 Still； it must be admitted
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The Happy Prince and Other Tales
that she has some beautiful notes in her voice。 What a pity it is that they
do not mean anything； or do any practical good。〃 And he went into his
room； and lay down on his little pallet…bed； and began to think of his love；
and； after a time； he fell asleep。
And when th