Chapter 25

THE LITTLE PRINCE said, “People start out in express trains, but they no longer know what they’re looking for. Then they get all excited and rush around in circles…” And he added, “It’s not worth the trouble…”

The well we had come to was not at all like the wells of the Sahara. The wells of the Sahara are no more than holes dug in the sand. This one looked more like a village well. But there was no village here, and I thought I was dreaming.

“It’s strange,” I said to the little prince, “everything is ready: the pulley, the bucket, and the rope…”

He laughed, grasped the rope, and set the pulley working. And the pulley groaned the way an old weather vane groans when the wind has been asleep a long time.

“Hear that?” said the little prince. “We’ve awakened this well and it’s singing.”

I didn’t want him to tire himself out. “Let me do that,” I said to him. “It’s too heavy for you.”

Slowly I hoisted the bucket to the edge of the well. I set it down with great care. The song of the pulley continued in my ears, and I saw the sun glisten on the still-trembling water.

“I’m thirsty for that water,” said the little prince. “Let me drink some…”

And I understood what he’d been looking for!

I raised the bucket to his lips. He drank, eyes closed. It was as sweet as a feast. That water was more than merely a drink.

It was born of our walk beneath the stars, of the song of the pulley, of the effort of my arms. It did the heart good, like a present. When I was a little boy, the Christmas-tree lights, the music of midnight mass, the tenderness of people’s smiles made up, in the same way, the whole radiance of the Christmas present I received.

“People where you live,” the little prince said, “grow five thousand roses in one garden…” yet they don’t find what they’re looking for…”

“They don’t find it,” I answered.

“And yet what they’re looking for could be found in a single rose, or a little water…”

“Of course.” I answered.

And the little prince added, “But eyes are blind. You have to look with the heart.”

I had drunk the water. I could breathe easy now. The sand, at daybreak, is honey-colored. And that color was making me happy, too. Why then did I also feel so sad?

“You must keep your promise,” said the little prince, sitting up again beside me.

“What promise?”

“You know…a muzzle for my sheep… I’m responsible for this flower!”

I took my drawings out of my pocket. The little prince glanced at them and laughed as he said, “Your baobabs look more like cabbages.”

“Oh!” I had been so proud of the baobabs!

“Your fox… his ears… look more like horns… and they’re too long!” And he laughed again.

“You’re being unfair, my little prince,” I said. “I never knew how to draw anything but boas from the inside and boas from the outside.”

“Oh, that’ll be all right,” he said. “Children understand.”

So then I drew a muzzle. And with a heavy heart I handed it to him.

 “You’ve made plans I don’t know about…”

But he didn’t answer. He said, “You know, my fall to Earth…” Tomorrow will be the first anniversary…” Then, after a silence, he continued. “I landed very near here…” And he blushed.

And once again, without understanding why, I felt a strange grief. However, a question occurred to me: “Then it wasn’t by accident that on the morning I met you, eight days ago, you were walking that way, all alone, a thousand miles from any inhabited region? Were you returning to the place where you fell to Earth?”

The little prince blushed again.

And I added, hesitantly, “Perhaps on account…” of the anniversary?”

The little prince blushed once more. He never answered questions, but when someone blushes, doesn’t that mean “yes”?

“Ah,” I said to the little prince, “I’m afraid…”

But he answered, “You must get to work now. You must get back to your engine. I’ll wait here. Come back tomorrow night.”

But I wasn’t reassured. I remembered the fox. You risk tears if you let yourself be tamed.

 

Chapter 26

BESIDE THE WELL, there was a ruin, an old stone wall. When I came back from my work the next evening, I caught sight of my little prince from a distance. He was sitting on top of the wall, legs dangling. And I heard him talking. “Don’t you remember?” he was saying. “This isn’t exactly the place!” Another voice must have answered him then, for he replied, “Oh yes, it’s the right day, but this isn’t the place…”

I continued walking toward the wall. I still could neither see nor hear anyone, yet the little prince answered again: “Of course. You’ll see where my tracks begin on the sand. Just wait for me there. I’ll be there tonight.”

I was twenty yards from the wall and still saw no one.

Then the little prince said, after a silence, “Your poison is good? You’re sure it won’t make me suffer long?”

I stopped short, my heart pounding, but I still didn’t understand.

“Now go away,” the little prince said. “I want to get down from here!”

Then I looked down toward the foot of the wall, and gave a great start! There, coiled in front of the little prince, was one of those yellow snakes that can kill you in thirty seconds.

As I dug into my pocket for my revolver, I stepped back, but at the noise I made, the snake flowed over the sand like a trickling fountain, and without even hurrying, slipped away between the stones with a faint metallic sound.

I reached the wall just in time to catch my little prince in my arms, his face white as snow.

“What’s going on here? You’re talking to snakes now?”

I had loosened the yellow scarf he always wore. I had moistened his temples and made him drink some water. And now I didn’t dare ask him anything more. He gazed at me with a serious expression and put his arms round my neck. I felt his heart beating like a dying bird’s, when it’s been shot. He said to me:

“I’m glad you found what was the matter with your engine. Now you’ll be able to fly again…”

“How did you know?” I was just coming to tell him that I had been successful beyond all hope!

He didn’t answer my question; all he said was “I’m leaving today, too.”

And then, sadly, “It’s much further…” It’s much more difficult.”

I realized that something extraordinary was happening. I was holding him in my arms like a little child, yet it seemed to me that he was dropping headlong into an abyss, and I could do nothing to hold him back.

His expression was very serious now, lost and remote. “I have your sheep. And I have the crate for it. And the muzzle…” And he smiled sadly.

I waited a long time. I could feel that he was reviving a little. “Little fellow, you were frightened…” Of course he was frightened!

But he laughed a little. “I’ll be much more frightened tonight…”

Once again I felt chilled by the sense of something irreparable. And I realized I couldn’t bear the thought of never hearing that laugh again. For me it was like a spring of fresh water in the desert.

“Little fellow, I want to hear you laugh again…”

But he said to me. “Tonight, it’ll be a year. My star will be just above the place where I fell last year…”

“Little fellow, it’s a bad dream, isn’t it? All this conversation with the snake and the meeting place and the star…”

But he didn’t answer my question. All he said was, “The important thing is what can’t be seen…”

“Of course…”

“It’s the same as for the flower. If you love a flower that lives on a star, then it’s good, at night, to look up at the sky. All the stars are blossoming.”

“Of course…”

“It’s the same for the water. The water you gave me to drink was like music, on account of the pulley and the rope… You remember… It was good.”

“Of course…”

“At night, you’ll look up at the stars. It’s too small, where I live, for me to show you where my star is. It’s better that way. My star will be… one of the stars, for you. So you’ll like looking at all of them. They’ll all be your friends. And besides, I have a present for you.” He laughed again.

“Ah, little fellow, little fellow, I love hearing that laugh!”

“That’ll be my present. Just that… It’ll be the same as for the water.”

“What do you mean?”

“People have stars, but they aren’t the same. For travelers, the stars are guides. For other people, they’re nothing but tiny lights. And for still others, for scholars, they’re problems. For my businessman, they were gold. But all those stars are silent stars. You, though, you’ll have stars like nobody else.”

“What do you mean?”

“When you look up at the sky at night, since I’ll be living on one of them, since I’ll be laughing on one of them, for you it’ll be as if all the stars are laughing. You’ll have stars that can laugh!”

And he laughed again.

“And when you’re consoled (everyone eventually is consoled), you’ll be glad you’ve known me. You’ll always be my friend. You’ll feel like laughing with me. And you’ll open your window sometimes just for the fun of it… And your friends will be amazed to see you laughing while you’re looking up at the sky. Then you’ll tell them, ‘Yes, it’s the stars; they always make me laugh!’ And they’ll think you’re crazy. It’ll be a nasty trick I played on you…”

And he laughed again.

“And it’ll be as if I had given you, instead of stars, a lot of tiny bells that know how to laugh…”

And he laughed again. Then he grew serious once more. “Tonight… you know… don’t come.”

“I won’t leave you.”

“It’ll look as if I’m suffering. It’ll look a little as if I’m dying. It’ll look that way. Don’t come to see that; it’s not worth the trouble.”

“I won’t leave you.”

But he was anxious. “I’m telling you this… on account of the snake. He mustn’t bite you. Snakes are nasty sometimes. They bite just for fun…”

“I won’t leave you.”

But something reassured him. “It’s true they don’t have enough poison for a second bite…”

That night I didn’t see him leave. He got away without making a sound. When I managed to catch up with him, he was walking fast, with determination. All he said was, “Ah, you’re here.” And he took my hand. But he was still anxious. “You were wrong to come. You’ll suffer. I’ll look as if I’m dead, and that won’t be true…”

I said nothing.

“You understand. It’s too far. I can’t take this body with me. It’s too heavy.”

I said nothing.

“But it’ll be like an old abandoned shell. There’s nothing sad about an old shell…”

I said nothing.

He was a little disheartened now. But he made one more effort.

“It’ll be nice, you know. I’ll be looking at the stars, too. All the stars will be wells with a rusty pulley. All the stars will pour out water for me to drink…”

I said nothing.

“And it’ll be fun! You’ll have five-hundred million little bells; I’ll have five-hundred million springs of fresh water… And he, too, said nothing, because he was weeping…”

“Here’s the place. Let me go on alone.”

And he sat down because he was frightened.

Then he said:

“You know… my flower… I’m responsible for her. And she’s so weak! And so naive. She has four ridiculous thorns to defend her against the world…”

I sat down, too, because I was unable to stand any longer.

He said, “There… That’s all…”

He hesitated a little longer, then he stood up. He took a step. I couldn’t move.

There was nothing but a yellow flash close to his ankle. He remained motionless for an instant. He didn’t cry out. He fell gently, the way a tree falls. There wasn’t even a sound, because of the sand.

 

Chapter 27

AND NOW, of course, it’s been six years already…” I’ve never told this story before. The friends who saw me again were very glad to see me alive. I was sad, but I told them, “It’s fatigue.”

Now I’m somewhat consoled. That is…not entirely. But I know he did get back to his planet because at daybreak I didn’t find his body. It wasn’t such a heavy body… And at night I love listening to the stars. It’s like five-hundred million little bells…

But something extraordinary has happened. When I drew that muzzle for the little prince, I forgot to put in the leather strap. He could never have fastened it on his sheep.

And then I wonder, “What’s happened there on his planet? Maybe the sheep has eaten the flower…”

Sometimes I tell myself, “Of course not! The little prince puts his flower under glass, and he keeps close watch over his sheep…” Then I’m happy. And all the stars laugh sweetly.

Sometimes I tell myself, “Anyone might be distracted once in a while, and that’s all it takes! One night he forgot to put her under glass, or else the sheep got out without making any noise, during the night…” Then the bells are all changed into tears!

It’s all a great mystery. For you, who love the little prince, too. As for me, nothing in the universe can be the same if somewhere, no one knows where, a sheep we never saw has or has not eaten a rose…

Look up at the sky. Ask yourself, “Has the sheep eaten the flower or not?”

And you’ll see how everything changes…

And no grown-up will ever understand how such a thing could be so important!

For me, this is the loveliest and the saddest landscape in the world. It’s the same landscape as the one on the preceding page, but I’ve drawn it one more time in order to be sure you see it clearly. It’s here that the little prince appeared on Earth, then disappeared.

Look at this landscape carefully to be sure of recognizing it, if you should travel to Africa someday, in the desert. And if you happen to pass by here, I beg you not to hurry past. Wait a little, just under the star! Then if a child comes to you, if he laughs, if he has golden hair, if he doesn’t answer your questions, you’ll know who he is. If this should happen, be kind! Don’t let me go on being so sad: send word immediately that he’s come back…