"It is not to Egypt that I am going," said the Swallow. "I am
going to the House of Death. Death is the brother of Sleep, is he
not?"
And he kissed the Happy Prince on the lips and fell down
dead at his feet.
At that moment a curious crack sounded inside the statue as if
something had broken. The fact was that the leaden heart had
broken in two. It certainly was a dreadfully hard frost.
