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 was admired by all who saw him.
"Why can't you be like the Happy Prince?" a mother said to her crying child. "The Happy Prince never dreams of crying for anything."
"I am glad there is someone in the world who is quite happy," muttered a disappointed man as he gazed at the wonderful statue.
One night, a little Swallow flew over the city. His friends had gone to Egypt six weeks before, but he had stayed behind, for he was in love with the most beautiful reed. However, she had no conversation, and the Swallow grew tired of her. Now he was flying to join his friends in Egypt. When he saw the statue, he decided to rest between the feet of the Happy Prince.
As the Swallow was about to fall asleep, he felt a drop of water. Then another drop. "What a curious thing!" he cried. "There is not a single cloud in the sky, and yet it is raining." When he looked up, he saw that the Happy Prince was weeping. His tears ran down his golden cheeks.
"Who are you?" asked the Swallow.
"I am the Happy Prince."
"Why are you crying then?" asked the Swallow.
"When I was alive, I 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. 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 choose but weep."
The Happy Prince then explained to the Swallow the source of his sorrow. "Far away," he said, "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-honor 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."
The Swallow hesitated but eventually agreed to help. He plucked out the ruby from the Happy Prince's sword-hilt and flew to the woman's house. He placed the ruby on the table beside the seamstress's thimble and flew around the bed, fanning the boy’s forehead with his wings. The child fell into a restful sleep, and the seamstress, sinking into a deep slumber, dreamed that her boy was well again.
The next night, the Happy Prince asked the Swallow to pluck out one of his sapphire eyes and take it to a playwright who was freezing and unable to finish his play. The Swallow did as requested, and the playwright received the precious gem, which allowed him to buy firewood and food.
On the third night, the Happy Prince asked the Swallow to take his other sapphire eye to a poor match-girl who had dropped her matches in the gutter. The Swallow hesitated, but the Prince insisted. Now blind, the Happy Prince depended on the Swallow to be his eyes and tell him what was happening in the city.
The Swallow stayed with the Prince, flying over the city and reporting the suffering and misery he saw. The Prince instructed the Swallow to strip him of his gold leaves, one by one, to give to the poor and needy. The Swallow followed his orders, and the once magnificent statue became dull and grey.
As winter arrived, the Swallow grew cold and weak. He knew he would soon die, but he remained with the Happy Prince. One last time, he kissed the Happy Prince on the lips and fell dead at his feet.
At that moment, a strange crack sounded inside the statue, as if something had broken. It was the leaden heart of the Happy Prince, which had split in two.
The next day, the Mayor noticed the shabby state of the statue and ordered it to be taken down. As they removed it, they found the dead Swallow at the statue's feet and the broken heart within. The Mayor decided to melt the statue in a furnace, but the broken lead heart would not melt. They discarded it on a rubbish heap where the dead Swallow lay.
God then sent an angel to bring back the two most precious things in the city. The angel brought back the broken heart and the dead bird. God said, "You have rightly chosen, for in my garden of Paradise, this little bird shall sing for evermore, and in my city of gold, the Happy Prince shall praise me."
The story of the Happy Prince reminds us of the power of love, compassion, and selflessness. The true value of a heart lies in its ability to feel and respond to the suffering of others, and even the smallest acts of kindness can leave a lasting impact.
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