Multimedia Mania/abacus-multimedia-mania.iso/dp/0142/01426.txt

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$Pretitle{}
$Title{Prince And The Pauper, The
Chapter IV}
$Subtitle{}
$Author{Twain, Mark}
$Affiliation{}
$Subject{prince
am
himself
father
thy
upon
thou

}
$Date{1909}
$Log{}
Title:       Prince And The Pauper, The
Author:      Twain, Mark
Date:        1909

Chapter IV

The Prince's Troubles Begin

     After hours of persistent pursuit and persecution, the little prince was
at last deserted by the rabble and left to himself.  As long as he had been
able to rage against the mob, and threaten it royally, and royally utter
commands that were good stuff to laugh at, he was very entertaining; but when
weariness finally forced him to be silent, he was no longer of use to his
tormentors, and they sought amusement elsewhere.  He looked about him now, but
could not recognize the locality.  He was within the city of London - that was
all he knew.  He moved on, aimlessly, and in a little while the houses
thinned, and the passers-by were infrequent.  He bathed his bleeding feet in
the brook which flowed then where Farringdon street now is; rested a few
moments, then passed on, and presently came upon a great space with only a few
scattered houses in it, and a prodigious church.  He recognized this church.
Scaffoldings were about, everywhere, and swarms of workmen; for it was
undergoing elaborate repairs.  The prince took heart at once - he felt that
his troubles were at an end now.  He said to himself, "It is the ancient Grey
Friars' church, which the king my father hath taken from the monks and given
for a home forever for poor and forsaken children, and new-named it Christ's
church.  Right gladly will they serve the son of him who hath done so
generously by them - and the more that that son is himself as poor and as
forlorn as any that be sheltered here this day, or ever shall be."

     He was soon in the midst of a crowd of boys who were running, jumping,
playing at ball and leap-frog and otherwise disporting themselves, and right
noisily, too.  They were all dressed alike, and in the fashion which in that
day prevailed among serving-men and 'prentices ^* - that is to say, each had
on the crown of his head a flat black cap about the size of a saucer, which
was not useful as a covering, it being of such scanty dimensions, neither was
it ornamental; from beneath it the hair fell, unparted, to the middle of the
forehead, and was cropped straight around; a clerical band at the neck; a blue
gown that fitted closely and hung as low as the knees or lower; full sleeves;
a broad red belt; bright yellow stockings, gartered above the knees; low shoes
with large metal buckles. It was a sufficiently ugly custome.

[Footnote *: See Note 1, at end of the volume.]

     The boys stopped their play and flocked about the prince, who said with
native dignity:

     "Good lads, say to your master that Edward Prince of Wales desireth
speech with him."

     A great shout went up at this, and one rude fellow said:

     "Marry, art thou his grace's messenger, beggar?"

     The prince's face flushed with anger, and his ready hand flew to his hip,
but there was nothing there.  There was a storm of laughter, and one boy said:

     "Didst mark that?  He fancied he had a sword - belike he is the prince
himself."

     This sally brought more laughter.  Poor Edward drew himself up proudly
and said:

     "I am the prince; and it ill beseemeth you that feed upon the king my
father's bounty to use me so."

     This was vastly enjoyed, as the laughter testified.  The youth who had
first spoken shouted to his comrades:

     "Ho, swine, slaves, pensioners of his grace's princely father, where be
your manners?  Down on your marrow bones, all of ye, and do reverence to his
kingly port and royal rags!"

     With boisterous mirth they dropped upon their knees in a body and did
mock homage to their prey.  The prince spurned the nearest boy with his foot,
and said fiercely:

     "Take thou that, till the morrow come and I build thee a gibbet!"

     Ah, but this was not a joke - this was going beyond fun.  The laughter
ceased on the instant, and fury took its place.  A dozen shouted:

     "Hale him forth!  To the horse-pond, to the horse-pond!  Where be the
dogs?  Ho, there, Lion!  ho, Fangs!"

     Then followed such a thing as England had never seen before - the sacred
person of the heir to the throne rudely buffeted by plebeian hands, and set
upon and torn by dogs.

     As night drew to a close that day, the prince found himself far down in
the close-built portion of the city.  His body was bruised, his hands were
bleeding, and his rags were all besmirched with mud.  He wandered on and on,
and grew more and more bewildered, and so tired and faint he could hardly drag
one foot after the other.  He had ceased to ask questions of any one, since
they brought him only insult instead of information.  He kept muttering to
himself, "Offal Court - that is the name; if I can but find it before my
strength is wholly spent and I drop, then am I saved - for his people will
take me to the palace and prove that I am none of theirs, but the true prince,
and I shall have mine own again." And now and then his mind reverted to his
treatment by those rude Christ's Hospital boys, and he said, "When I am king,
they shall not have bread and shelter only, but also teachings out of books;
for a full belly is little worth where the mind is starved, and the heart.  I
will keep this diligently in my remembrance, that this day's lesson be not
lost upon me, and my people suffer thereby; for learning softeneth the heart
and breedeth gentleness and charity." ^*

[Footnote *: See Note 2, at end of the volume.]

     The lights began to twinkle, it came on to rain, the wind rose, and a
raw and gusty night set in.  The houseless prince, the homeless heir to the
throne of England, still moved on, drifting deeper into the maze of squalid
alleys where the swarming hives of poverty and misery were massed together.

     Suddenly a great drunken ruffian collared him and said:

     "Out to this time of night again, and hast not brought a farthing
home, I warrant me!  If it be so, an' I do not break all the bones in thy
lean body, then am I not John Canty, but some other."

     The prince twisted himself loose, unconsciously brushed his profaned
shoulder, and eagerly said:

     "Oh, art his father, truly?  Sweet heaven grant it be so - then wilt
thou fetch him away and restore me!"

     "His father?  I know not what thou mean'st; I but know I am thy
father, as thou shalt soon have cause to - "

     "Oh, jest not, palter not, delay not! - I am worn, I am wounded, I can
bear no more.  Take me to the king my father, and he will make thee rich
beyond thy wildest dreams.  Believe me, man, believe me! - I speak no lie,
but only the truth! - put forth thy hand and save me!  I am indeed the
Prince of Wales!"

     The man stared down, stupefied, upon the lad, then shook his head and
muttered:

     "Gone stark mad as any Tom o' Bedlam!" - then collared him once more,
and said with a coarse laugh and an oath, "But mad or no mad, I and thy
Gammer Canty will soon find where the soft places in thy bones lie, or I'm
no true man!"

     With this he dragged the frantic and struggling prince away, and
disappeared up a front court followed by a delighted and noisy swarm of
human vermin.