The Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain (best new books to read TXT) 📕
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- Author: Mark Twain
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He was ‘magnificently habited in a doublet of white satin, with a front-piece of purple cloth-of-tissue, powdered with diamonds, and edged with ermine. Over this he wore a mantle of white cloth-of-gold, pounced with the triple-feathered crest, lined with blue satin, set with pearls and precious stones, and fastened with a clasp of brilliants. About his neck hung the order of the Garter, and several princely foreign orders;’ and wherever light fell upon him jewels responded with a blinding flash. O Tom Canty, born in a hovel, bred in the gutters of London, familiar with rags and dirt and misery, what a spectacle is this!
Chapter X. The Prince in the toils.
We left John Canty dragging the rightful prince into Offal Court, with a noisy and delighted mob at his heels. There was but one person in it who offered a pleading word for the captive, and he was not heeded; he was hardly even heard, so great was the turmoil. The Prince continued to struggle for freedom, and to rage against the treatment he was suffering, until John Canty lost what little patience was left in him, and raised his oaken cudgel in a sudden fury over the Prince’s head. The single pleader for the lad sprang to stop the man’s arm, and the blow descended upon his own wrist. Canty roared out—
“Thou’lt meddle, wilt thou? Then have thy reward.”
His cudgel crashed down upon the meddler’s head: there was a groan, a dim form sank to the ground among the feet of the crowd, and the next moment it lay there in the dark alone. The mob pressed on, their enjoyment nothing disturbed by this episode.
Presently the Prince found himself in John Canty’s abode, with the door closed against the outsiders. By the vague light of a tallow candle which was thrust into a bottle, he made out the main features of the loathsome den, and also the occupants of it. Two frowsy girls and a middle-aged woman cowered against the wall in one corner, with the aspect of animals habituated to harsh usage, and expecting and dreading it now. From another corner stole a withered hag with streaming grey hair and malignant eyes. John Canty said to this one—
“Tarry! There’s fine mummeries here. Mar them not till thou’st enjoyed them: then let thy hand be heavy as thou wilt. Stand forth, lad. Now say thy foolery again, an thou’st not forgot it. Name thy name. Who art thou?”
The insulted blood mounted to the little prince’s cheek once more, and he lifted a steady and indignant gaze to the man’s face and said—
“’Tis but ill-breeding in such as thou to command me to speak. I tell thee now, as I told thee before, I am Edward, Prince of Wales, and none other.”
The stunning surprise of this reply nailed the hag’s feet to the floor where she stood, and almost took her breath. She stared at the Prince in stupid amazement, which so amused her ruffianly son, that he burst into a roar of laughter. But the effect upon Tom Canty’s mother and sisters was different. Their dread of bodily injury gave way at once to distress of a different sort. They ran forward with woe and dismay in their faces, exclaiming—
“Oh, poor Tom, poor lad!”
The mother fell on her knees before the Prince, put her hands upon his shoulders, and gazed yearningly into his face through her rising tears. Then she said—
“Oh, my poor boy! Thy foolish reading hath wrought its woeful work at last, and ta’en thy wit away. Ah! why did’st thou cleave to it when I so warned thee ’gainst it? Thou’st broke thy mother’s heart.”
The Prince looked into her face, and said gently—
“Thy son is well, and hath not lost his wits, good dame. Comfort thee: let me to the palace where he is, and straightway will the King my father restore him to thee.”
“The King thy father! Oh, my child! unsay these words that be freighted with death for thee, and ruin for all that be near to thee. Shake of this gruesome dream. Call back thy poor wandering memory. Look upon me. Am not I thy mother that bore thee, and loveth thee?”
The Prince shook his head and reluctantly said—
“God knoweth I am loth to grieve thy heart; but truly have I never looked upon thy face before.”
The woman sank back to a sitting posture on the floor, and, covering her eyes with her hands, gave way to heart-broken sobs and wailings.
“Let the show go on!” shouted Canty. "What, Nan!—what, Bet! mannerless wenches! will ye stand in the Prince’s presence? Upon your knees, ye pauper scum, and do him reverence!”
He followed this with another horse-laugh. The girls began to plead timidly for their brother; and Nan said—
“An thou wilt but let him to bed, father, rest and sleep will heal his madness: prithee, do.”
“Do, father,” said Bet; “he is more worn than is his wont. To-morrow will he be himself again, and will beg with diligence, and come not empty home again.”
This remark sobered the father’s joviality, and brought his mind to business. He turned angrily upon the Prince, and said—
“The morrow must we pay two pennies to him that owns this hole; two pennies, mark ye—all this money for a half-year’s rent, else out of this we go. Show what thou’st gathered with thy lazy begging.”
The Prince said—
“Offend me not with thy sordid matters. I tell thee again I am the
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