Сказки

ISBN 978-5-9925-0406-4
© ÊÀÐÎ, 2001

Уайльд О.
У 13  
Сказки: Книга для чтения на английском языке / Адаптация, комментарии, словарь, упражнения 
Ю. Б. Голицынского. — СПб.: КАРО, 2009. — 224 с.: 
ил. — (Серия «Reading with exercises»).

ISBN 978599250406-4

В книге представлены сказки известнейшего писателя 
О. Уайльда.
Каждая сказка снабжена упражнениями на закрепление 
прочитанного материала, перевод и совершенствование произношения.
Все сказки и фонетические упражнения записаны на 
компакт-диск, прослушивание которого позволит школьникам привыкать к звучанию живой английской речи и воспринимать содержание текста на слух.
Книга предназначена для старших классов школ с углубленным изучением английского языка, студентов и всех 
изучающих английский язык.
Обращаем ваше внимание, что в дополнение к книге нашим издательством предлагается обширный аудиоматериал — 
диск в формате МР3.

УДК 373
ББК 81.2 Англ922

УДК 373
ББК 81.2 Англ922
 
У 13

В дополнение к книге можно приобрести 
тематический аудиоматериал на диске в формате МР3, 
подготовленный издательством

THE HAPPY PRINCE

High above the city, on a tall column, stood 
the statue of the Happy Prince. He was covered 
all over with thin leaves of fi ne gold, for eyes he 
had two bright sapphires, and a large red ruby 
glowed on his sword-hilt.
Everybody admired him. “He is as beautiful 
as a weathercock,” remarked one of the Town 
Councillors who wished to gain a reputation for 
having artistic tastes; “only not quite so useful,” 
he added, fearing that people would think him 
unpractical.
“Why can’t you be like the Happy Prince?” 
asked a mother of her little boy who was crying. 
“The Happy Prince never cries.”
“I am glad there is some one in the world 
who is quite happy,” muttered a disappointed 
man as he looked at the wonderful statue.
“He looks just like an angel,” said the Charity Children1 as they came out of the cathedral.
“How do you know?” said the Mathematical Master, “you have never seen an angel.”

1 Charity [`SBrItI] children — приютские дети 
(сироты, живущие в благотворительном приюте)

“Ah! Yes, we have, in our dreams,” answered the children; and the Mathematical 
Master frowned and looked very severe, for he 
did not approve of children dreaming.
One night there fl ew over the city a little 
Swallow. His friends had gone away to Egypt 
six weeks before, but he had stayed behind, for 
he was in love with the most beautiful Reed. He 
had met her early in the spring as he was fl ying down the river after a big yellow moth; he 
had liked her slender waist so much that he had 
stopped to talk to her.
“Shall I love you?” said the Swallow, who 
liked to come to the point at once1, and the Reed 
made him a low bow. So he fl ew round and 
round her, touching the water with his wings. 
This was his courtship, and it lasted all through 
the summer.
“It is a strange attachment,” twittered the 
other Swallows; “she has no money, and too 
many relations;” and indeed the river was quite 
full of Reeds. Then, when the autumn came, 
they all fl ew away.
After they had gone, he felt lonely, and 
began to get tired of his lady-love. “She cannot speak,” he said, “and I am afraid that she 
is a coquette, for she is always fl irting with the 
wind.” And certainly, whenever the wind blew, 

1 liked to come to the point at once — любил 
сразу приступать к сути дела

the Reed always bowed to it. “Besides, she likes 
to stay at home,” he continued, “but I love travelling, and my wife, consequently, should love 
travelling also.”
“Will you come away with me?” he said fi nally to her, but the Reed shook her head, she 
was so attached to her home.
“You have been playing with me,” he cried. 
“I am off to the Pyramids. Good-bye!” and he 
fl ew away.
All day long he fl ew, and at night-time he 
arrived at the city. “Where shall I spend the 
night?” he said. “I hope the town has made 
preparations.”
Then he saw the statue on the tall column.
“I will sleep up there,” he cried; “it is a fi ne 
place, with plenty of fresh air.” So he fl ew down 
to the feet of the Happy Prince.
“I have a golden bedroom,” he said 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.”
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 fl y 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 fi lled with 
tears, and tears were running down his golden 
cheeks. His face was so beautiful in the moonlight that the little Swallow was fi lled 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. I lived in a beautiful palace. In the daytime 
I played with my companions in the garden, and 
in the evening I danced in the Great Hall. Round 
the garden there was a very high wall, but I never
asked what was beyond it, everything around 
me was so beautiful. My courtiers called me the 
Happy Prince, and happy indeed I was, if pleasure is happiness. So I lived and so I died. And 
now that I am dead, they have put 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 help weeping1.”
“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 sitting at a table. Her face is 

1 I cannot help weeping — я не могу не плакать

thin and tired. She is a seamstress. She is embroidering fl owers on a dress for one of the Queen’s 
maids-of-honour. The girl is going to wear this 
dress at the next Court-ball. In a bed in the corner of the room a little boy is lying ill. Не 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 Egypt1,” said the Swallow. “My friends are fl ying up and down the Nile, 
and talking to the large lotus-fl owers. Soon they 
will go to sleep in the tomb of the great King. 
The King is there himself in his painted coffi n. 
He is wrapped in yellow cloth, 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 fl y too well 
for that, 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,” 

1 Egypt [`i:dZIpt] — Египет

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 fl ew away with it 
in his beak over the roofs of the town.
He passed by the palace and heard the 
sounds 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 Court-ball,” she answered; “I have ordered 
fl owers to be embroidered on it; but the seamstresses are so lazy.”
He passed over the river, and saw ships with 
tall masts. At last he came to the poor house 
and looked in. The boy was lying in his bed, 
and the mother had fallen asleep at the table: 
she was so tired. The Swallow fl ew in and laid 
the great ruby on the table beside the woman’s
hand.
Then the Swallow fl ew 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.

The Swallow picked out the great ruby from
the Prince’s sword, and fl ew away with it
in his beak.

In the morning he fl ew 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.
“Tonight I go to Egypt,” said the Swallow, 
and he was in high spirits. He visited all the 
public monuments, and sat a long time on top 
of the church steeple.
When the moon rose, he fl ew back to the 
Happy Prince. “I’ve come to say good-bye,” he 
cried; “I am going to Egypt.”
“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 fl y up to 
the Second Cataract. At noon the yellow lions 
come down to the water’s edge to drink. Their 
eyes are 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 sitting at a desk covered 
with papers. 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 fi nish a 
play for the Director of the Theatre, but he is