The Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain (novel24 txt) 📕

Princess Elizabeth’s quick eye saw by the serene blankness of the

target’s front that the shaft was overshot; so she tranquilly delivered a

return volley of sounding Greek on Tom’s behalf, and then straightway

changed the talk to other matters.

Time wore on pleasantly, and likewise smoothly, on the whole. Snags and

sandbars grew less and less frequent, and Tom grew more and more at his

ease, seeing that all were so lovingly bent upon helping him and

overlooking his mistakes. When it came out that the little ladies were

to accompany him to the Lord Mayor’s banquet in the evening, his heart

gave a bound of relief and delight, for he felt that he should not be

friendless, now, among that multitude of strangers; whereas, an hour

earlier, the idea of their going with him would have been an

insupportable terror to him.

Tom’s guardian angels, the two lords, had had less comfort in the

interview than the other parties to it. They felt much as if they were

piloting a great ship through a dangerous channel; they were on the alert

constantly, and found their office no child’s play. Wherefore, at last,

when the ladies’ visit was drawing to a close and the Lord Guilford

Dudley was announced, they not only felt that their charge had been

sufficiently taxed for the present, but also that they themselves were

not in the best condition to take their ship back and make their anxious

voyage all over again. So they respectfully advised Tom to excuse

himself, which he was very glad to do, although a slight shade of

disappointment might have been observed upon my Lady Jane’s face when she

heard the splendid stripling denied admittance.

There was a pause now, a sort of waiting silence which Tom could not

understand. He glanced at Lord Hertford, who gave him a sign—but he

failed to understand that also. The ready Elizabeth came to the rescue

with her usual easy grace. She made reverence and said—

“Have we leave of the prince’s grace my brother to go?”

Tom said—

“Indeed your ladyships can have whatsoever of me they will, for the

asking; yet would I rather give them any other thing that in my poor

power lieth, than leave to take the light and blessing of their presence

hence. Give ye good den, and God be with ye!” Then he smiled inwardly at

the thought, “‘Tis not for nought I have dwelt but among princes in my

reading, and taught my tongue some slight trick of their broidered and

gracious speech withal!”

When the illustrious maidens were gone, Tom turned wearily to his keepers

and said—

“May it please your lordships to grant me leave to go into some corner

and rest me?”

Lord Hertford said—

“So please your highness, it is for you to command, it is for us to obey.

That thou should’st rest is indeed a needful thing, since thou must

journey to the city presently.”

He touched a bell, and a page appeared, who was ordered to desire the

presence of Sir William Herbert. This gentleman came straightway, and

conducted Tom to an inner apartment. Tom’s first movement there was to

reach for a cup of water; but a silk-and-velvet servitor seized it,

dropped upon one knee, and offered it to him on a golden salver.

Next the tired captive sat down and was going to take off his buskins,

timidly asking leave with his eye, but another silk-and-velvet

discomforter went down upon his knees and took the office from him. He

made two or three further efforts to help himself, but being promptly

forestalled each time, he finally gave up, with a sigh of resignation and

a murmured “Beshrew me, but I marvel they do not require to breathe for

me also!” Slippered, and wrapped in a sumptuous robe, he laid himself

down at last to rest, but not to sleep, for his head was too full of

thoughts and the room too full of people. He could not dismiss the

former, so they stayed; he did not know enough to dismiss the latter, so

they stayed also, to his vast regret—and theirs.

Tom’s departure had left his two noble guardians alone. They mused a

while, with much head-shaking and walking the floor, then Lord St. John

said—

“Plainly, what dost thou think?”

“Plainly, then, this. The King is near his end; my nephew is mad—mad

will mount the throne, and mad remain. God protect England, since she

will need it!”

“Verily it promiseth so, indeed. But … have you no misgivings as to

… as to …”

The speaker hesitated, and finally stopped. He evidently felt that he

was upon delicate ground. Lord Hertford stopped before him, looked into

his face with a clear, frank eye, and said—

“Speak on—there is none to hear but me. Misgivings as to what?”

“I am full loth to word the thing that is in my mind, and thou so near to

him in blood, my lord. But craving pardon if I do offend, seemeth it not

strange that madness could so change his port and manner?—not but that

his port and speech are princely still, but that they DIFFER, in one

unweighty trifle or another, from what his custom was aforetime. Seemeth

it not strange that madness should filch from his memory his father’s

very lineaments; the customs and observances that are his due from such

as be about him; and, leaving him his Latin, strip him of his Greek and

French? My lord, be not offended, but ease my mind of its disquiet and

receive my grateful thanks. It haunteth me, his saying he was not the

prince, and so—”

“Peace, my lord, thou utterest treason! Hast forgot the King’s command?

Remember I am party to thy crime if I but listen.”

St. John paled, and hastened to say—

“I was in fault, I do confess it. Betray me not, grant me this grace out

of thy courtesy, and I will neither think nor speak of this thing more.

Deal not hardly with me, sir, else am I ruined.”

“I am content, my lord. So thou offend not again, here or in the ears of

others, it shall be as though thou hadst not spoken. But thou need’st

not have misgivings. He is my sister’s son; are not his voice, his face,

his form, familiar to me from his cradle? Madness can do all the odd

conflicting things thou seest in him, and more. Dost not recall how that

the old Baron Marley, being mad, forgot the favour of his own countenance

that he had known for sixty years, and held it was another’s; nay, even

claimed he was the son of Mary Magdalene, and that his head was made of

Spanish glass; and, sooth to say, he suffered none to touch it, lest by

mischance some heedless hand might shiver it? Give thy misgivings

easement, good my lord. This is the very prince—I know him well—and

soon will be thy king; it may advantage thee to bear this in mind, and

more dwell upon it than the other.”

After some further talk, in which the Lord St. John covered up his

mistake as well as he could by repeated protests that his faith was

thoroughly grounded now, and could not be assailed by doubts again, the

Lord Hertford relieved his fellow-keeper, and sat down to keep watch and

ward alone. He was soon deep in meditation, and evidently the longer he

thought, the more he was bothered. By-and-by he began to pace the floor

and mutter.

“Tush, he MUST be the prince! Will any he in all the land maintain there

can be two, not of one blood and birth, so marvellously twinned? And

even were it so, ‘twere yet a stranger miracle that chance should cast

the one into the other’s place. Nay, ‘tis folly, folly, folly!”

Presently he said—

“Now were he impostor and called himself prince, look you THAT would be

natural; that would be reasonable. But lived ever an impostor yet, who,

being called prince by the king, prince by the court, prince by all,

DENIED his dignity and pleaded against his exaltation? NO! By the soul

of St. Swithin, no! This is the true prince, gone mad!”

Chapter VII. Tom’s first royal dinner.

Somewhat after one in the afternoon, Tom resignedly underwent the ordeal

of being dressed for dinner. He found himself as finely clothed as

before, but everything different, everything changed, from his ruff to

his stockings. He was presently conducted with much state to a spacious

and ornate apartment, where a table was already set for one. Its

furniture was all of massy gold, and beautified with designs which well-nigh made it priceless, since they were the work of Benvenuto. The room

was half-filled with noble servitors. A chaplain said grace, and Tom was

about to fall to, for hunger had long been constitutional with him, but

was interrupted by my lord the Earl of Berkeley, who fastened a napkin

about his neck; for the great post of Diaperers to the Prince of Wales

was hereditary in this nobleman’s family. Tom’s cupbearer was present,

and forestalled all his attempts to help himself to wine. The Taster to

his highness the Prince of Wales was there also, prepared to taste any

suspicious dish upon requirement, and run the risk of being poisoned. He

was only an ornamental appendage at this time, and was seldom called upon

to exercise his function; but there had been times, not many generations

past, when the office of taster had its perils, and was not a grandeur to

be desired. Why they did not use a dog or a plumber seems strange; but

all the ways of royalty are strange. My Lord d’Arcy, First Groom of the

Chamber, was there, to do goodness knows what; but there he was—let that

suffice. The Lord Chief Butler was there, and stood behind Tom’s chair,

overseeing the solemnities, under command of the Lord Great Steward and

the Lord Head Cook, who stood near. Tom had three hundred and eighty-four servants beside these; but they were not all in that room, of

course, nor the quarter of them; neither was Tom aware yet that they

existed.

All those that were present had been well drilled within the hour to

remember that the prince was temporarily out of his head, and to be

careful to show no surprise at his vagaries. These ‘vagaries’ were soon

on exhibition before them; but they only moved their compassion and their

sorrow, not their mirth. It was a heavy affliction to them to see the

beloved prince so stricken.

Poor Tom ate with his fingers mainly; but no one smiled at it, or even

seemed to observe it. He inspected his napkin curiously, and with deep

interest, for it was of a very dainty and beautiful fabric, then said

with simplicity—

“Prithee, take it away, lest in mine unheedfulness it be soiled.”

The Hereditary Diaperer took it away with reverent manner, and without

word or protest of any sort.

Tom examined the turnips and the lettuce with interest, and asked what

they were, and if they were to be eaten; for it was only recently that

men had begun to raise these things in England in place of importing them

as luxuries from Holland. {1} His question was answered with grave

respect, and no surprise manifested. When he had finished his dessert,

he filled his pockets with nuts; but nobody appeared to be aware of it,

or disturbed by it. But the next moment he was himself disturbed by it,

and showed discomposure; for this was the only service he had been

permitted to do with his