After that, the little prince climbed a high mountain. The only mountains he had
ever known were the three volcanoes, which came up to his knees. And he used the extinct
volcano as a footstool. "From a mountain as high as this one," he said to
himself, "I shall be able to see the whole planet at one glance, and all the
people..."

But he saw nothing, save peaks of rock that were
sharpened like needles.
"Good morning," he said courteously.
"Good morning--Good morning--Good
morning," answered the echo.
"Who are you?" said the little prince.
"Who are you--Who are you--Who are you?"
answered the echo.
"Be my friends. I am all alone," he
said.
"I am all alone--all alone--all alone,"
answered the echo.
"What a queer planet!" he thought.
"It is altogether dry, and altogether pointed, and altogether harsh and forbidding.
And the people have no imagination. They repeat whatever one says to them... On my planet
I had a flower; she always was the first to speak..."
But it happened that after walking for a long time
through sand, and rocks, and snow, the little prince at last came upon a road. And all
roads lead to the abodes of men.
"Good morning," he said.
He was standing before a garden, all a-bloom with
roses.

"Good morning," said the roses.
The little prince gazed at them. They all looked
like his flower.
"Who are you?" he demanded,
thunderstruck.
"We are roses," the roses said.
And he was overcome with sadness. His flower had
told him that she was the only one of her kind in all the universe. And here were five
thousand of them, all alike, in one single garden!
"She would be very much annoyed," he
said to himself, "if she should see that... she would cough most dreadfully, and she
would pretend that she was dying, to avoid being laughed at. And I should be obliged to
pretend that I was nursing her back to life-- for if I did not do that, to humble myself
also, she would really allow herself to die..."
Then he went on with his reflections: "I
thought that I was rich, with a flower that was unique in all the world; and all I had was
a common rose. A common rose, and three volcanoes that come up to my knees-- and one of
them perhaps extinct forever... that doesn't make me a very great prince..."
And he lay down in the grass and cried.

It was then that the fox appeared.
"Good morning," said the fox.
"Good morning," the little prince
responded politely, although when he turned around he saw nothing.

"I am right here," the voice said,
"under the apple tree."
"Who are you?" asked the little prince,
and added, "You are very pretty to look at."
"I am a fox," said the fox.
"Come and play with me," proposed the
little prince. "I am so unhappy."
"I cannot play with you," the fox said.
"I am not tamed."
"Ah! Please excuse me," said the little
prince.
But, after some thought, he added:
"What does that mean-- 'tame'?"
"You do not live here," said the fox.
"What is it that you are looking for?"
"I am looking for men," said the little
prince. "What does that mean--'tame'?"
"Men," said the fox. "They have
guns, and they hunt. It is very disturbing. They also raise chickens. These are their only
interests. Are you looking for chickens?"
"No," said the little prince. "I am
looking for friends. What does that mean-- 'tame'?"
"It is an act too often neglected," said
the fox. It means to establish ties."
"'To establish ties'?"
"Just that," said the fox. "To me,
you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other
little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you,
I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then
we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world.
To you, I shall be unique in all the
world..."
"I am beginning to understand," said the
little prince. "There is a flower... I think that she has tamed me..."
"It is possible," said the fox. "On
the Earth one sees all sorts of things."
"Oh, but this is not on the Earth!" said
the little prince.
The fox seemed perplexed, and very curious.
"On another planet?"
"Yes."
"Are there hunters on this planet?"
"No."
"Ah, that is interesting! Are there
chickens?"
"No."
"Nothing is perfect," sighed the fox.
But he came back to his idea.
"My life is very monotonous," the fox
said. "I hunt chickens; men hunt me. All the chickens are just alike, and all the men
are just alike. And, in consequence, I am a little bored. But if you tame me, it will be
as if the sun came to shine on my life . I shall know the sound of a step that will be
different from all the others. Other steps send me hurrying back underneath the ground.
Yours will call me, like music, out of my burrow. And then look: you see the grain-fields
down yonder? I do not eat t bread. Wheat is of no use to me. The wheat fields have nothing
to say to me. And that is sad. But you have hair that is the colour of gold. Think how
wonderful that will be when you have tamed me! The grain, which is also golden, will bring
me back k the thought of you. And I shall love to listen to the wind in the wheat..."
The fox gazed at the little prince, for a long
time.
"Please-- tame me!" he said.
"I want to, very much," the little
prince replied. "But I have not much time. I have friends to discover, and a great
many things to understand."
"One only understands the things that one
tames," said the fox. "Men have no more time to understand anything. They buy
things all ready-made at the shops. But there is no shop anywhere where one can buy
friendship, and so men have no friends any more. If you want a friend, tame me..."
"What must I do, to tame you?" asked the
little prince.
"You must be very patient," replied the
fox. "First you will sit down at a little distance from me-- like that-- in the
grass. I shall look at you out of the corner of my eye, and you will say nothing. Words
are the source of misunderstandings. But you will sit a little closer to me, every
day..."
The next day the little prince came back.

"It would have been better to come back at
the same hour," said the fox.
"If, for example, you come at four o'clock in
the afternoon, then at three o'clock I shall begin to be happy. I shall feel happier and
happier as the hour advances. At four o'clock, I shall already be worrying and jumping
about. I shall show you how happy I am! But if you come at just any time, I shall never
know at what hour my heart is to be ready to greet you... One must observe the proper
rites..."
"What is a rite?" asked the little
prince.
"Those also are actions too often
neglected," said the fox. "They are what make one day different from other days,
one hour from other hours. There is a rite, for example, among my hunters. Every Thursday
they dance with the village girls. So Thursday is a wonderful day for me! I can take a
walk as far as the vineyards. But if the hunters danced at just any time, every day would
be like every other day, and I should never have any vacation at all."
So the little prince tamed the fox. And when the
hour of his departure drew near--
"Ah," said the fox, "I shall
cry."
"It is your own fault," said the little
prince. "I never wished you any sort of harm; but you wanted me to tame you..."
"Yes, that is so," said the fox.
"But now you are going to cry!" said the
little prince.
"Yes, that is so," said the fox.
"Then it has done you no good at all!"
"It has done me good," said the fox,
"because of the colour of the wheat fields." And then he added:
"Go and look again at the roses. You will
understand now that yours is unique in all the world. Then come back to say goodbye to me,
and I will make you a present of a secret."
The little prince went away, to look again at the
roses.
"You are not at all like my rose," he
said. "As yet you are nothing. No one has tamed you, and you have tamed no one. You
are like my fox when I first knew him. He was only a fox like a hundred thousand other
foxes. But I have made him my friend, and now he is unique in all the world."
And the roses were very much embarrassed.
"You are beautiful, but you are empty,"
he went on. "One could not die for you. To be sure, an ordinary passer-by would think
that my rose looked just like you-- the rose that belongs to me. But in herself alone she
is more important than all the hundreds of you other roses: because it is she that I have
watered; because it is she that I have put under the glass globe; because it is she that I
have sheltered behind the screen; because it is for her that I have killed the
caterpillars (except the two or three that we saved to become butterflies); because it is
she that I have listened to, when she grumbled, or boasted, or even sometimes when she
said nothing. Because she is my rose.
And he went back to meet the fox.
"Goodbye," he said.
"Goodbye," said the fox. "And now
here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see
rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye."
"What is essential is invisible to the
eye," the little prince repeated, so that he would be sure to remember.
"It is the time you have wasted for your rose
that makes your rose so important."
"It is the time I have wasted for my
rose--" said the little prince, so that he would be sure to remember.
"Men have forgotten this truth," said
the fox. "But you must not forget it.
You become responsible, forever, for what you have
tamed. You are responsible for your rose..."
"I am responsible for my rose," the
little prince repeated, so that he would be sure to remember.
Continuous... |