'Am I not?' the flower responded, sweetly. 'And I was born at the same moment as the sun...'
The little prince could guess easily enough that she was not any too modest — but how moving — and exciting — she was!
'I think it is time for breakfast,' she added an instant later. 'If you would have the kindness to think of my needs...'
And the little prince, completely abashed, went to look for a sprinkling-can of fresh water. So, he tended the flower. So, too, she began very quickly to torment him with her vanity — which was, if the truth be known, a little difficult to deal with. One day, for instance, when she was speaking of her four thorns, she said to the little prince:
'Let the tigers come with their claws!'
'There are no tigers on my planet,' the little prince objected. 'And, anyway, tigers do not eat weeds.'
'I am not a weed,' the flower replied, sweetly.
'Please excuse me...'
'I am not at all afraid of tigers,' she went on, 'but I have a horror of drafts. I suppose you wouldn't have a screen for me?'
'A horror of drafts — that is bad luck, for a plant,' remarked the little prince, and added to himself, 'This flower is a very complex creature...'
'At night I want you to put me under a glass globe. It is very cold where you live. In the place I came from — '
But she interrupted herself at that point. She had come in the form of a seed. She could not have known anything of any other worlds. Embarrassed over having let herself be caught on the verge of such a naïve untruth, she coughed two or three times, in order to put the little prince in the wrong.
'The screen?'
'I was just going to look for it when you spoke to me...'
Then she forced her cough a little more so that he should suffer from remorse just the same. So the little prince, in spite of all the good will that was inseparable from his love, had soon come to doubt her. He had taken seriously words which were without importance, and it made him very unhappy.
'I ought not to have listened to her,' he confided to me one day. 'One never ought to listen to the flowers. One should simply look at them and breathe their fragrance. Mine perfumed all my planet. But I did not know how to take pleasure in all her grace. This tale of claws, which disturbed me so much, should only have filled my heart with tenderness and pity.'
And he continued his confidences:
'The fact is that I did not know how to understand anything! I ought to have judged by deeds and not by words. She cast her fragrance and her radiance over me. I ought never to have run away from her... I ought to have guessed all the affection that lay behind her poor little stratagems. Flowers are so inconsistent! But I was too young to know how to love her …'
IX
I believe that for his escape he took advantage of the migration of a flock of wild birds. On the morning of his departure he put his planet in perfect order. He carefully cleaned out his active volcanoes. He possessed two active volcanoes; and they were very convenient for heating his breakfast in the morning. He also had one volcano that was extinct. But, as he said, 'One never knows!' So he cleaned out the extinct volcano, too. If they are well cleaned out, volcanoes burn slowly and steadily, without any eruptions. Volcanic eruptions are like fires in a chimney.
On our earth we are obviously much too small to clean out our volcanoes. That is why they bring no end of trouble upon us. The little prince also pulled up, with a certain sense of dejection, the last little shoots of the baobabs. He believed that he would never want to return. But on this last morning all these familiar tasks seemed very precious to him. And when he watered the flower for the last time, and prepared to place her under the shelter of h
er glass globe, he realized that he was very close to tears.
'Goodbye,' he said to the flower.
But she made no answer.
'Goodbye,' he said
again.
The flower coughed. But it was not because she had a cold.
'I have been silly,' she said to him, at last. 'I ask your forgiveness. Try to be happy...'
He was surprised by this absence of reproaches. He stood there all bewildered, the glass globe held arrested in mid-air. He did not understand this quiet sweetness.
'Of course I love you,' the flower said to him. 'It is my fault that you have not known it all the while. That is of no importance. But you — you have been just as foolish as I. Try to be happy... Let the glass globe be. I don't want it any more.'
'But the wind — '
'My cold is not so bad as all that... The cool night air will do me good. I am a flower.'
'But the animals — '
'Well, I must endure the presence of two or three caterpillars if I wish to become acquainted with the butterflies. It seems that they are very beautiful. And if not the butterflies — and the caterpillars — who will call upon me? You will be far away... As for the large animals — I am not at all afraid of any of them. I have my claws.'
And, naïvely, she showed her four thorns. Then she added:
'Don't linger like this. You have decided to go away. Now go!'
For she did not want him to see her crying. She was such a proud flower.
X
He found himself in the neighborhood of the asteroids 325, 326, 327, 328, 329, and 330. He began, therefore, by visiting them, in order to add to his knowledge.
The first of them was inhabited by a king. Clad in royal purple and ermine, he was seated upon a throne which was at the same time both simple and majestic.
'Ah! Here is a subject,' exclaimed the king, when he saw the little prince coming.
And the little prince asked himself:
'How could he recognize me when he had never seen me before?'
He did not know how the world is simplified for kings. To them, all men are subjects.
'Approach, so that I may see you better,' said the king, who felt consumingly proud of being at last a king over somebody.
The little prince looked everywhere to find a place to sit down; but the entire planet was crammed and obstructed by the king's magnificent ermine robe. So he remained standing upright, and, since he was tired, he yawned.