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diff --git a/old/orig1837-h/p3.htm b/old/orig1837-h/p3.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..864ec11 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/orig1837-h/p3.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1021 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<title>THE PRINCE AND THE PAUPER, By Mark Twain, Part 3.</title> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> + +<style type="text/css"> + <!-- + body {background:#faebd7; margin:10%; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; } + HR { width: 33%; text-align: center; } + blockquote {font-size: 97% } + .figleft {float: left;} + .figright {float: right;} + .toc { margin-left: 15%; margin-bottom: 0em;} + CENTER { padding: 10px;} + // --> +</style> + +</head> +<body> + + +<center> +<table summary="" cellPadding=4 border=3> +<tr><td> + <a href="p2.htm">Previous Part</a> +</td><td> + <a href="1837-h.htm">Main Index</a> +</td><td> + <a href="p4.htm">Next Part</a> + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + +<br><br><br><br> + + + +<center> +<h1>THE PRINCE AND THE PAUPER</h1> +<br><br> +<h2>by Mark Twain +<br><br><br><br>Part Three +</h2> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> +<center> +<img alt="bookcover.jpg (148K)" src="images/bookcover.jpg" height="1018" width="948"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> +<center> +<img alt="frontispiece1.jpg (135K)" src="images/frontispiece1.jpg" height="1067" width="745"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> +<center> +<img alt="frontispiece2.jpg (123K)" src="images/frontispiece2.jpg" height="939" width="747"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> +<center> +<img alt="titlepage.jpg (62K)" src="images/titlepage.jpg" height="1083" width="815"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> +<center> +<img alt="greatseal.jpg (68K)" src="images/greatseal.jpg" height="438" width="711"> +<br>The Great Seal +</center> +<br><br><br><br> +<center> +<img alt="dedication.jpg (21K)" src="images/dedication.jpg" height="420" width="663"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> +<center> +<img alt="inscription.jpg (16K)" src="images/inscription.jpg" height="219" width="601"> +</center> + + +<br><br><br><br> + +<br><br> +<blockquote><blockquote><blockquote><blockquote> +<b> +I will set down a tale as it was told to me by one who had it of his +father, which latter had it of HIS father, this last having in like +manner had it of HIS father—and so on, back and still back, three +hundred years and more, the fathers transmitting it to the sons and so +preserving it. It may be history, it may be only a legend, a tradition. +It may have happened, it may not have happened: but it COULD have +happened. It may be that the wise and the learned believed it in the old +days; it may be that only the unlearned and the simple loved it and +credited it.</b> +</blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote> + +<br><br><br><br> + + + + +<h2> +CONTENTS</h2> + +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + +VIII. </td><td><a href="#c8">The question of the Seal.</a><br></td></tr><tr><td> +IX. </td><td><a href="#c9">The river pageant.</a><br></td></tr><tr><td> +X. </td><td><a href="#c10">The Prince in the toils.</a><br></td></tr><tr><td> +XI. </td><td><a href="#c11">At Guildhall.</a><br></td></tr> + + + +</table> +</center> + + + + + + + +<br><br><br><br> + +<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + + +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + + + + +<a href="#08-095">THE QUESTION OF THE SEAL</a><br><br> +<a href="#08-098">"EASED HIM BACK UPON HIS PILLOWS"</a><br><br> +<a href="#09-101">THE RIVER PAGEANT</a><br><br> +<a href="#09-104">"HALBERDIERS APPEARED IN THE GATEWAY"</a><br><br> +<a href="#09-106">"TOM CANTY STEPPED INTO VIEW"</a><br><br> +<a href="#10-107">THE PRINCE IN THE TOILS</a><br><br> +<a href="#10-110">"A DIM FORM SANK TO THE GROUND"</a><br><br> +<a href="#10-111">"WHO ART THOU?"</a><br><br> +<a href="#10-113">"INTO GOOD WIFE CANTY'S ARMS"</a><br><br> +<a href="#10-115">"BENT HEEDFULLY AND WARILY OVER HIM"</a><br><br> +<a href="#10-116">"THE PRINCE SPRANG UP"</a><br><br> +<a href="#10-118">"HURRIED HIM ALONG THE DARK WAY"</a><br><br> +<a href="#10-120">"HE WASTE NO TIME"</a><br><br> +<a href="#11-121">AT GUILDHALL</a><br><br> +<a href="#11-124">"A RICH CANOPY OF STATE"</a><br><br> +<a href="#11-127">"BEGAN TO LAY ABOUT HIM"</a><br><br> +<a href="#11-128">"LONG LIVE THE KING!"</a><br><br> + + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + +<br><br><hr><br> +<br><br> +<a name="c8"></a> +<a name="08-095"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="08-095.jpg (51K)" src="images/08-095.jpg" height="391" width="812"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p>Chapter VIII. The question of the Seal.</p> + +<p>About five o'clock Henry VIII. awoke out of an unrefreshing nap, and +muttered to himself, "Troublous dreams, troublous dreams! Mine end is now +at hand: so say these warnings, and my failing pulses do confirm it." +Presently a wicked light flamed up in his eye, and he muttered, "Yet will +not I die till HE go before."</p> + +<p>His attendants perceiving that he was awake, one of them asked his +pleasure concerning the Lord Chancellor, who was waiting without.</p> + +<p>"Admit him, admit him!" exclaimed the King eagerly.</p> + +<p>The Lord Chancellor entered, and knelt by the King's couch, saying—</p> + +<p>"I have given order, and, according to the King's command, the peers of +the realm, in their robes, do now stand at the bar of the House, where, +having confirmed the Duke of Norfolk's doom, they humbly wait his +majesty's further pleasure in the matter."</p> + +<p>The King's face lit up with a fierce joy. Said he—</p> + +<p>"Lift me up! In mine own person will I go before my Parliament, and with +mine own hand will I seal the warrant that rids me of—"</p> + +<p>His voice failed; an ashen pallor swept the flush from his cheeks; and +the attendants eased him back upon his pillows, and hurriedly assisted +him with restoratives. Presently he said sorrowfully—</p> + +<p>"Alack, how have I longed for this sweet hour! and lo, too late it +cometh, and I am robbed of this so coveted chance. But speed ye, speed +ye! let others do this happy office sith 'tis denied to me. I put my +Great Seal in commission: choose thou the lords that shall compose it, +and get ye to your work. Speed ye, man! Before the sun shall rise and +set again, bring me his head that I may see it."</p> + +<p>"According to the King's command, so shall it be. Will't please your +majesty to order that the Seal be now restored to me, so that I may forth +upon the business?"</p> + +<br><br> +<a name="08-098"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="08-098.jpg (99K)" src="images/08-098.jpg" height="603" width="712"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p>"The Seal? Who keepeth the Seal but thou?"</p> + +<p>"Please your majesty, you did take it from me two days since, saying it +should no more do its office till your own royal hand should use it upon +the Duke of Norfolk's warrant."</p> + +<p>"Why, so in sooth I did: I do remember. . . . What did I with it? . . . I +am very feeble. . . . So oft these days doth my memory play the traitor +with me. . . . 'Tis strange, strange—"</p> + +<p>The King dropped into inarticulate mumblings, shaking his grey head +weakly from time to time, and gropingly trying to recollect what he had +done with the Seal. At last my Lord Hertford ventured to kneel and offer +information—</p> + +<p>"Sire, if that I may be so bold, here be several that do remember with me +how that you gave the Great Seal into the hands of his highness the +Prince of Wales to keep against the day that—"</p> + +<p>"True, most true!" interrupted the King. "Fetch it! Go: time flieth!"</p> + +<p>Lord Hertford flew to Tom, but returned to the King before very long, +troubled and empty-handed. He delivered himself to this effect—</p> + +<p>"It grieveth me, my lord the King, to bear so heavy and unwelcome +tidings; but it is the will of God that the prince's affliction abideth +still, and he cannot recall to mind that he received the Seal. So came I +quickly to report, thinking it were waste of precious time, and little +worth withal, that any should attempt to search the long array of +chambers and saloons that belong unto his royal high—"</p> + +<p>A groan from the King interrupted the lord at this point. After a little +while his majesty said, with a deep sadness in his tone—</p> + +<p>"Trouble him no more, poor child. The hand of God lieth heavy upon him, +and my heart goeth out in loving compassion for him, and sorrow that I +may not bear his burden on mine old trouble-weighted shoulders, and so +bring him peace."</p> + +<p>He closed his eyes, fell to mumbling, and presently was silent. After a +time he opened his eyes again, and gazed vacantly around until his glance +rested upon the kneeling Lord Chancellor. Instantly his face flushed with +wrath—</p> + +<p>"What, thou here yet! By the glory of God, an' thou gettest not about +that traitor's business, thy mitre shall have holiday the morrow for lack +of a head to grace withal!"</p> + +<p>The trembling Chancellor answered—</p> + +<p>"Good your Majesty, I cry you mercy! I but waited for the Seal."</p> + +<p>"Man, hast lost thy wits? The small Seal which aforetime I was wont to +take with me abroad lieth in my treasury. And, since the Great Seal hath +flown away, shall not it suffice? Hast lost thy wits? Begone! And hark +ye—come no more till thou do bring his head."</p> + +<p>The poor Chancellor was not long in removing himself from this dangerous +vicinity; nor did the commission waste time in giving the royal assent to +the work of the slavish Parliament, and appointing the morrow for the +beheading of the premier peer of England, the luckless Duke of Norfolk. +</p> + +<br><br><hr><br> +<br><br> +<a name="c9"></a> +<a name="09-101"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="09-101.jpg (60K)" src="images/09-101.jpg" height="461" width="753"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + + +<p>Chapter IX. The river pageant.</p> + +<p>At nine in the evening the whole vast river-front of the palace was +blazing with light. The river itself, as far as the eye could reach +citywards, was so thickly covered with watermen's boats and with +pleasure-barges, all fringed with coloured lanterns, and gently agitated +by the waves, that it resembled a glowing and limitless garden of flowers +stirred to soft motion by summer winds. The grand terrace of stone steps +leading down to the water, spacious enough to mass the army of a German +principality upon, was a picture to see, with its ranks of royal +halberdiers in polished armour, and its troops of brilliantly costumed +servitors flitting up and down, and to and fro, in the hurry of +preparation.</p> + +<p>Presently a command was given, and immediately all living creatures +vanished from the steps. Now the air was heavy with the hush of suspense +and expectancy. As far as one's vision could carry, he might see the +myriads of people in the boats rise up, and shade their eyes from the +glare of lanterns and torches, and gaze toward the palace.</p> + +<p>A file of forty or fifty state barges drew up to the steps. They were +richly gilt, and their lofty prows and sterns were elaborately carved. +Some of them were decorated with banners and streamers; some with +cloth-of-gold and arras embroidered with coats-of-arms; others with silken +flags that had numberless little silver bells fastened to them, which +shook out tiny showers of joyous music whenever the breezes fluttered +them; others of yet higher pretensions, since they belonged to nobles in +the prince's immediate service, had their sides picturesquely fenced with +shields gorgeously emblazoned with armorial bearings. Each state barge +was towed by a tender. Besides the rowers, these tenders carried each a +number of men-at-arms in glossy helmet and breastplate, and a company of +musicians.</p> + +<br><br> +<a name="09-104"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="09-104.jpg (178K)" src="images/09-104.jpg" height="951" width="734"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p>The advance-guard of the expected procession now appeared in the great +gateway, a troop of halberdiers. 'They were dressed in striped hose of +black and tawny, velvet caps graced at the sides with silver roses, and +doublets of murrey and blue cloth, embroidered on the front and back with +the three feathers, the prince's blazon, woven in gold. Their halberd +staves were covered with crimson velvet, fastened with gilt nails, and +ornamented with gold tassels. Filing off on the right and left, they +formed two long lines, extending from the gateway of the palace to the +water's edge. A thick rayed cloth or carpet was then unfolded, and laid +down between them by attendants in the gold-and-crimson liveries of the +prince. This done, a flourish of trumpets resounded from within. A +lively prelude arose from the musicians on the water; and two ushers with +white wands marched with a slow and stately pace from the portal. They +were followed by an officer bearing the civic mace, after whom came +another carrying the city's sword; then several sergeants of the city +guard, in their full accoutrements, and with badges on their sleeves; +then the Garter King-at-arms, in his tabard; then several Knights of the +Bath, each with a white lace on his sleeve; then their esquires; then the +judges, in their robes of scarlet and coifs; then the Lord High +Chancellor of England, in a robe of scarlet, open before, and purfled +with minever; then a deputation of aldermen, in their scarlet cloaks; and +then the heads of the different civic companies, in their robes of state. +Now came twelve French gentlemen, in splendid habiliments, consisting of +pourpoints of white damask barred with gold, short mantles of crimson +velvet lined with violet taffeta, and carnation coloured +hauts-de-chausses, and took their way down the steps. They were of the suite of +the French ambassador, and were followed by twelve cavaliers of the suite +of the Spanish ambassador, clothed in black velvet, unrelieved by any +ornament. Following these came several great English nobles with their +attendants.'</p> + +<p>There was a flourish of trumpets within; and the Prince's uncle, the +future great Duke of Somerset, emerged from the gateway, arrayed in a +'doublet of black cloth-of-gold, and a cloak of crimson satin flowered +with gold, and ribanded with nets of silver.' He turned, doffed his +plumed cap, bent his body in a low reverence, and began to step backward, +bowing at each step. A prolonged trumpet-blast followed, and a +proclamation, "Way for the high and mighty the Lord Edward, Prince of +Wales!" High aloft on the palace walls a long line of red tongues of +flame leapt forth with a thunder-crash; the massed world on the river +burst into a mighty roar of welcome; and Tom Canty, the cause and hero of +it all, stepped into view and slightly bowed his princely head.</p> + +<br><br> +<a name="09-106"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="09-106.jpg (46K)" src="images/09-106.jpg" height="586" width="359"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p>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!</p> + + +<br><br><hr><br> +<br><br> +<a name="c10"></a> +<a name="10-107"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="10-107.jpg (46K)" src="images/10-107.jpg" height="392" width="671"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + + +<p>Chapter X. The Prince in the toils.</p> + +<p>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—</p> + +<p>"Thou'lt meddle, wilt thou? Then have thy reward."</p> + +<br><br> +<a name="10-110"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="10-110.jpg (100K)" src="images/10-110.jpg" height="568" width="542"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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—</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>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—</p> + +<p>"'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."</p> + +<br><br> +<a name="10-111"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="10-111.jpg (133K)" src="images/10-111.jpg" height="698" width="724"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + + +<p>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—</p> + +<p>"Oh, poor Tom, poor lad!"</p> + +<p>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—</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>The Prince looked into her face, and said gently—</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>The Prince shook his head and reluctantly said—</p> + +<p>"God knoweth I am loth to grieve thy heart; but truly have I never looked +upon thy face before."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>He followed this with another horse-laugh. The girls began to plead +timidly for their brother; and Nan said—</p> + +<p>"An thou wilt but let him to bed, father, rest and sleep will heal his +madness: prithee, do."</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>This remark sobered the father's joviality, and brought his mind to +business. He turned angrily upon the Prince, and said—</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>The Prince said—</p> + +<p>"Offend me not with thy sordid matters. I tell thee again I am the +King's son."</p> + +<p>A sounding blow upon the Prince's shoulder from Canty's broad palm sent +him staggering into goodwife Canty's arms, who clasped him to her breast, +and sheltered him from a pelting rain of cuffs and slaps by interposing +her own person. The frightened girls retreated to their corner; but the +grandmother stepped eagerly forward to assist her son. The Prince sprang +away from Mrs. Canty, exclaiming—</p> + +<br><br> +<a name="10-113"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="10-113.jpg (105K)" src="images/10-113.jpg" height="573" width="720"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + + +<p>"Thou shalt not suffer for me, madam. Let these swine do their will upon +me alone."</p> + +<p>This speech infuriated the swine to such a degree that they set about +their work without waste of time. Between them they belaboured the boy +right soundly, and then gave the girls and their mother a beating for +showing sympathy for the victim.</p> + +<p>"Now," said Canty, "to bed, all of ye. The entertainment has tired me."</p> + +<p>The light was put out, and the family retired. As soon as the snorings +of the head of the house and his mother showed that they were asleep, the +young girls crept to where the Prince lay, and covered him tenderly from +the cold with straw and rags; and their mother crept to him also, and +stroked his hair, and cried over him, whispering broken words of comfort +and compassion in his ear the while. She had saved a morsel for him to +eat, also; but the boy's pains had swept away all appetite—at least for +black and tasteless crusts. He was touched by her brave and costly +defence of him, and by her commiseration; and he thanked her in very +noble and princely words, and begged her to go to her sleep and try to +forget her sorrows. And he added that the King his father would not let +her loyal kindness and devotion go unrewarded. This return to his +'madness' broke her heart anew, and she strained him to her breast again +and again, and then went back, drowned in tears, to her bed.</p> + +<p>As she lay thinking and mourning, the suggestion began to creep into her +mind that there was an undefinable something about this boy that was +lacking in Tom Canty, mad or sane. She could not describe it, she could +not tell just what it was, and yet her sharp mother-instinct seemed to +detect it and perceive it. What if the boy were really not her son, +after all? Oh, absurd! She almost smiled at the idea, spite of her +griefs and troubles. No matter, she found that it was an idea that would +not 'down,' but persisted in haunting her. It pursued her, it harassed +her, it clung to her, and refused to be put away or ignored. At last she +perceived that there was not going to be any peace for her until she +should devise a test that should prove, clearly and without question, +whether this lad was her son or not, and so banish these wearing and +worrying doubts. Ah, yes, this was plainly the right way out of the +difficulty; therefore she set her wits to work at once to contrive that +test. But it was an easier thing to propose than to accomplish. She +turned over in her mind one promising test after another, but was obliged +to relinquish them all—none of them were absolutely sure, absolutely +perfect; and an imperfect one could not satisfy her. Evidently she was +racking her head in vain—it seemed manifest that she must give the +matter up. While this depressing thought was passing through her mind, +her ear caught the regular breathing of the boy, and she knew he had +fallen asleep. And while she listened, the measured breathing was broken +by a soft, startled cry, such as one utters in a troubled dream. This +chance occurrence furnished her instantly with a plan worth all her +laboured tests combined. She at once set herself feverishly, but +noiselessly, to work to relight her candle, muttering to herself, "Had I +but seen him THEN, I should have known! Since that day, when he was +little, that the powder burst in his face, he hath never been startled of +a sudden out of his dreams or out of his thinkings, but he hath cast his +hand before his eyes, even as he did that day; and not as others would do +it, with the palm inward, but always with the palm turned outward—I have +seen it a hundred times, and it hath never varied nor ever failed. Yes, +I shall soon know, now!"</p> + +<p>By this time she had crept to the slumbering boy's side, with the candle, +shaded, in her hand. She bent heedfully and warily over him, scarcely +breathing in her suppressed excitement, and suddenly flashed the light in +his face and struck the floor by his ear with her knuckles. The +sleeper's eyes sprang wide open, and he cast a startled stare about +him—but he made no special movement with his hands.</p> + +<br><br> +<a name="10-115"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="10-115.jpg (138K)" src="images/10-115.jpg" height="662" width="724"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + + +<p>The poor woman was smitten almost helpless with surprise and grief; but +she contrived to hide her emotions, and to soothe the boy to sleep again; +then she crept apart and communed miserably with herself upon the +disastrous result of her experiment. She tried to believe that her Tom's +madness had banished this habitual gesture of his; but she could not do +it. "No," she said, "his HANDS are not mad; they could not unlearn so +old a habit in so brief a time. Oh, this is a heavy day for me!"</p> + +<p>Still, hope was as stubborn now as doubt had been before; she could not +bring herself to accept the verdict of the test; she must try the thing +again—the failure must have been only an accident; so she startled the +boy out of his sleep a second and a third time, at intervals—with the +same result which had marked the first test; then she dragged herself to +bed, and fell sorrowfully asleep, saying, "But I cannot give him up—oh +no, I cannot, I cannot—he MUST be my boy!"</p> + +<br><br> +<a name="10-116"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="10-116.jpg (62K)" src="images/10-116.jpg" height="445" width="463"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p>The poor mother's interruptions having ceased, and the Prince's pains +having gradually lost their power to disturb him, utter weariness at last +sealed his eyes in a profound and restful sleep. Hour after hour slipped +away, and still he slept like the dead. Thus four or five hours passed. +Then his stupor began to lighten. Presently, while half asleep and half +awake, he murmured—</p> + +<p>"Sir William!"</p> + +<p>After a moment—</p> + +<p>"Ho, Sir William Herbert! Hie thee hither, and list to the strangest +dream that ever . . . Sir William! dost hear? Man, I did think me +changed to a pauper, and . . . Ho there! Guards! Sir William! What! is +there no groom of the chamber in waiting? Alack! it shall go hard with—"</p> + +<p>"What aileth thee?" asked a whisper near him. "Who art thou calling?"</p> + +<p>"Sir William Herbert. Who art thou?"</p> + +<p>"I? Who should I be, but thy sister Nan? Oh, Tom, I had forgot! Thou'rt +mad yet—poor lad, thou'rt mad yet: would I had never woke to know it +again! But prithee master thy tongue, lest we be all beaten till we +die!"</p> + +<p>The startled Prince sprang partly up, but a sharp reminder from his +stiffened bruises brought him to himself, and he sank back among his foul +straw with a moan and the ejaculation—</p> + +<p>"Alas! it was no dream, then!"</p> + +<p>In a moment all the heavy sorrow and misery which sleep had banished were +upon him again, and he realised that he was no longer a petted prince in +a palace, with the adoring eyes of a nation upon him, but a pauper, an +outcast, clothed in rags, prisoner in a den fit only for beasts, and +consorting with beggars and thieves.</p> + +<p>In the midst of his grief he began to be conscious of hilarious noises +and shoutings, apparently but a block or two away. The next moment there +were several sharp raps at the door; John Canty ceased from snoring and +said—</p> + +<p>"Who knocketh? What wilt thou?"</p> + +<p>A voice answered—</p> + +<p>"Know'st thou who it was thou laid thy cudgel on?"</p> + +<p>"No. Neither know I, nor care."</p> + +<p>"Belike thou'lt change thy note eftsoons. An thou would save thy neck, +nothing but flight may stead thee. The man is this moment delivering up +the ghost. 'Tis the priest, Father Andrew!"</p> + +<p>"God-a-mercy!" exclaimed Canty. He roused his family, and hoarsely +commanded, "Up with ye all and fly—or bide where ye are and perish!"</p> + +<p>Scarcely five minutes later the Canty household were in the street and +flying for their lives. John Canty held the Prince by the wrist, and +hurried him along the dark way, giving him this caution in a low voice—</p> + +<p>"Mind thy tongue, thou mad fool, and speak not our name. I will choose +me a new name, speedily, to throw the law's dogs off the scent. Mind thy +tongue, I tell thee!"</p> + +<br><br> +<a name="10-118"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="10-118.jpg (142K)" src="images/10-118.jpg" height="757" width="741"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p>He growled these words to the rest of the family—</p> + +<p>"If it so chance that we be separated, let each make for London Bridge; +whoso findeth himself as far as the last linen-draper's shop on the +bridge, let him tarry there till the others be come, then will we flee +into Southwark together."</p> + +<p>At this moment the party burst suddenly out of darkness into light; and +not only into light, but into the midst of a multitude of singing, +dancing, and shouting people, massed together on the river frontage. +There was a line of bonfires stretching as far as one could see, up and +down the Thames; London Bridge was illuminated; Southwark Bridge +likewise; the entire river was aglow with the flash and sheen of coloured +lights; and constant explosions of fireworks filled the skies with an +intricate commingling of shooting splendours and a thick rain of dazzling +sparks that almost turned night into day; everywhere were crowds of +revellers; all London seemed to be at large.</p> + +<p>John Canty delivered himself of a furious curse and commanded a retreat; +but it was too late. He and his tribe were swallowed up in that swarming +hive of humanity, and hopelessly separated from each other in an instant. +We are not considering that the Prince was one of his tribe; Canty still +kept his grip upon him. The Prince's heart was beating high with hopes +of escape, now. A burly waterman, considerably exalted with liquor, +found himself rudely shoved by Canty in his efforts to plough through the +crowd; he laid his great hand on Canty's shoulder and said—</p> + +<p>"Nay, whither so fast, friend? Dost canker thy soul with sordid business +when all that be leal men and true make holiday?"</p> + +<p>"Mine affairs are mine own, they concern thee not," answered Canty, +roughly; "take away thy hand and let me pass."</p> + +<p>"Sith that is thy humour, thou'lt NOT pass, till thou'st drunk to the +Prince of Wales, I tell thee that," said the waterman, barring the way +resolutely.</p> + +<p>"Give me the cup, then, and make speed, make speed!"</p> + +<p>Other revellers were interested by this time. They cried out—</p> + +<p>"The loving-cup, the loving-cup! make the sour knave drink the +loving-cup, else will we feed him to the fishes."</p> + +<p>So a huge loving-cup was brought; the waterman, grasping it by one of its +handles, and with the other hand bearing up the end of an imaginary +napkin, presented it in due and ancient form to Canty, who had to grasp +the opposite handle with one of his hands and take off the lid with the +other, according to ancient custom. This left the Prince hand-free +for a second, of course. He wasted no time, but dived among the forest +of legs about him and disappeared. In another moment he could not have +been harder to find, under that tossing sea of life, if its billows had +been the Atlantic's and he a lost sixpence.</p> + +<br><br> +<a name="10-120"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="10-120.jpg (148K)" src="images/10-120.jpg" height="803" width="713"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p>He very soon realised this fact, and straightway busied himself about his +own affairs without further thought of John Canty. He quickly realised +another thing, too. To wit, that a spurious Prince of Wales was being +feasted by the city in his stead. He easily concluded that the pauper +lad, Tom Canty, had deliberately taken advantage of his stupendous +opportunity and become a usurper.</p> + +<p>Therefore there was but one course to pursue—find his way to the +Guildhall, make himself known, and denounce the impostor. He also made +up his mind that Tom should be allowed a reasonable time for spiritual +preparation, and then be hanged, drawn and quartered, according to the +law and usage of the day in cases of high treason.</p> + + + +<br><br><hr><br> +<br><br> +<a name="c11"></a> +<a name="11-121"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="11-121.jpg (56K)" src="images/11-121.jpg" height="448" width="718"> +</center> +<br><br> +<br><br> + + + +<p> +Chapter XI. At Guildhall.</p> + +<p>The royal barge, attended by its gorgeous fleet, took its stately way +down the Thames through the wilderness of illuminated boats. The air was +laden with music; the river banks were beruffled with joy-flames; the +distant city lay in a soft luminous glow from its countless invisible +bonfires; above it rose many a slender spire into the sky, incrusted with +sparkling lights, wherefore in their remoteness they seemed like jewelled +lances thrust aloft; as the fleet swept along, it was greeted from the +banks with a continuous hoarse roar of cheers and the ceaseless flash and +boom of artillery.</p> + +<p>To Tom Canty, half buried in his silken cushions, these sounds and this +spectacle were a wonder unspeakably sublime and astonishing. To his +little friends at his side, the Princess Elizabeth and the Lady Jane +Grey, they were nothing.</p> + +<p>Arrived at the Dowgate, the fleet was towed up the limpid Walbrook (whose +channel has now been for two centuries buried out of sight under acres of +buildings) to Bucklersbury, past houses and under bridges populous with +merry-makers and brilliantly lighted, and at last came to a halt in a +basin where now is Barge Yard, in the centre of the ancient city of +London. Tom disembarked, and he and his gallant procession crossed +Cheapside and made a short march through the Old Jewry and Basinghall +Street to the Guildhall.</p> + +<p>Tom and his little ladies were received with due ceremony by the Lord +Mayor and the Fathers of the City, in their gold chains and scarlet robes +of state, and conducted to a rich canopy of state at the head of the +great hall, preceded by heralds making proclamation, and by the Mace and +the City Sword. The lords and ladies who were to attend upon Tom and his +two small friends took their places behind their chairs.</p> + +<br><br> +<a name="11-124"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="11-124.jpg (173K)" src="images/11-124.jpg" height="1063" width="729"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p>At a lower table the Court grandees and other guests of noble degree were +seated, with the magnates of the city; the commoners took places at a +multitude of tables on the main floor of the hall. From their lofty +vantage-ground the giants Gog and Magog, the ancient guardians of the +city, contemplated the spectacle below them with eyes grown familiar to +it in forgotten generations. There was a bugle-blast and a proclamation, +and a fat butler appeared in a high perch in the leftward wall, followed +by his servitors bearing with impressive solemnity a royal baron of beef, +smoking hot and ready for the knife.</p> + +<p>After grace, Tom (being instructed) rose—and the whole house with +him—and drank from a portly golden loving-cup with the Princess Elizabeth; +from her it passed to the Lady Jane, and then traversed the general +assemblage. So the banquet began.</p> + +<p>By midnight the revelry was at its height. Now came one of those +picturesque spectacles so admired in that old day. A description of it +is still extant in the quaint wording of a chronicler who witnessed it:</p> + +<p>'Space being made, presently entered a baron and an earl appareled after +the Turkish fashion in long robes of bawdkin powdered with gold; hats on +their heads of crimson velvet, with great rolls of gold, girded with two +swords, called scimitars, hanging by great bawdricks of gold. Next came +yet another baron and another earl, in two long gowns of yellow satin, +traversed with white satin, and in every bend of white was a bend of +crimson satin, after the fashion of Russia, with furred hats of gray on +their heads; either of them having an hatchet in their hands, and boots +with pykes' (points a foot long), 'turned up. And after them came a +knight, then the Lord High Admiral, and with him five nobles, in doublets +of crimson velvet, voyded low on the back and before to the cannell-bone, +laced on the breasts with chains of silver; and over that, short cloaks +of crimson satin, and on their heads hats after the dancers' fashion, +with pheasants' feathers in them. These were appareled after the fashion +of Prussia. The torchbearers, which were about an hundred, were +appareled in crimson satin and green, like Moors, their faces black. +Next came in a mommarye. Then the minstrels, which were disguised, +danced; and the lords and ladies did wildly dance also, that it was a +pleasure to behold.'</p> + +<p>And while Tom, in his high seat, was gazing upon this 'wild' dancing, +lost in admiration of the dazzling commingling of kaleidoscopic colours +which the whirling turmoil of gaudy figures below him presented, the +ragged but real little Prince of Wales was proclaiming his rights and his +wrongs, denouncing the impostor, and clamouring for admission at the +gates of Guildhall! The crowd enjoyed this episode prodigiously, and +pressed forward and craned their necks to see the small rioter. +Presently they began to taunt him and mock at him, purposely to goad him +into a higher and still more entertaining fury. Tears of mortification +sprang to his eyes, but he stood his ground and defied the mob right +royally. Other taunts followed, added mockings stung him, and he +exclaimed—</p> + +<p>"I tell ye again, you pack of unmannerly curs, I am the Prince of Wales! +And all forlorn and friendless as I be, with none to give me word of +grace or help me in my need, yet will not I be driven from my ground, but +will maintain it!"</p> + +<p>"Though thou be prince or no prince, 'tis all one, thou be'st a gallant +lad, and not friendless neither! Here stand I by thy side to prove it; +and mind I tell thee thou might'st have a worser friend than Miles Hendon +and yet not tire thy legs with seeking. Rest thy small jaw, my child; I +talk the language of these base kennel-rats like to a very native."</p> + +<p>The speaker was a sort of Don Caesar de Bazan in dress, aspect, and +bearing. He was tall, trim-built, muscular. His doublet and trunks were +of rich material, but faded and threadbare, and their gold-lace +adornments were sadly tarnished; his ruff was rumpled and damaged; the +plume in his slouched hat was broken and had a bedraggled and +disreputable look; at his side he wore a long rapier in a rusty iron +sheath; his swaggering carriage marked him at once as a ruffler of the +camp. The speech of this fantastic figure was received with an explosion +of jeers and laughter. Some cried, "'Tis another prince in disguise!" +"'Ware thy tongue, friend: belike he is dangerous!" "Marry, he looketh +it—mark his eye!" "Pluck the lad from him—to the horse-pond wi' the +cub!"</p> + +<p>Instantly a hand was laid upon the Prince, under the impulse of this +happy thought; as instantly the stranger's long sword was out and the +meddler went to the earth under a sounding thump with the flat of it. +The next moment a score of voices shouted, "Kill the dog! Kill him! +Kill him!" and the mob closed in on the warrior, who backed himself +against a wall and began to lay about him with his long weapon like a +madman. His victims sprawled this way and that, but the mob-tide poured +over their prostrate forms and dashed itself against the champion with +undiminished fury. +</p> + +<br><br> +<a name="11-127"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="11-127.jpg (133K)" src="images/11-127.jpg" height="582" width="714"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + +<p> +His moments seemed numbered, his destruction certain, +when suddenly a trumpet-blast sounded, a voice shouted, "Way for the +King's messenger!" and a troop of horsemen came charging down upon the +mob, who fled out of harm's reach as fast as their legs could carry them. +The bold stranger caught up the Prince in his arms, and was soon far away +from danger and the multitude.</p> + +<p>Return we within the Guildhall. Suddenly, high above the jubilant roar +and thunder of the revel, broke the clear peal of a bugle-note. There +was instant silence—a deep hush; then a single voice rose—that of the +messenger from the palace—and began to pipe forth a proclamation, the +whole multitude standing listening.</p> + +<p>The closing words, solemnly pronounced, were—</p> + +<p>"The King is dead!"</p> + +<p>The great assemblage bent their heads upon their breasts with one accord; +remained so, in profound silence, a few moments; then all sank upon their +knees in a body, stretched out their hands toward Tom, and a mighty shout +burst forth that seemed to shake the building—</p> + +<p>"Long live the King!"</p> + +<br><br> +<a name="11-128"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="11-128.jpg (154K)" src="images/11-128.jpg" height="854" width="727"> +</center> +<br><br><br><br> + + +<p>Poor Tom's dazed eyes wandered abroad over this stupefying spectacle, and +finally rested dreamily upon the kneeling princesses beside him, a +moment, then upon the Earl of Hertford. A sudden purpose dawned in his +face. He said, in a low tone, at Lord Hertford's ear—</p> + +<p>"Answer me truly, on thy faith and honour! Uttered I here a command, the +which none but a king might hold privilege and prerogative to utter, +would such commandment be obeyed, and none rise up to say me nay?"</p> + +<p>"None, my liege, in all these realms. In thy person bides the majesty of +England. Thou art the king—thy word is law."</p> + +<p>Tom responded, in a strong, earnest voice, and with great animation—</p> + +<p>"Then shall the king's law be law of mercy, from this day, and never more +be law of blood! Up from thy knees and away! To the Tower, and say the +King decrees the Duke of Norfolk shall not die!"</p> + +<p>The words were caught up and carried eagerly from lip to lip far and wide +over the hall, and as Hertford hurried from the presence, another +prodigious shout burst forth—</p> + +<p>"The reign of blood is ended! Long live Edward, King of England!"</p> + + + + +<br> +<br> + + +<center> +<table summary="" cellPadding=4 border=3> +<tr><td> + <a href="p2.htm">Previous Part</a> +</td><td> + <a href="1837-h.htm">Main Index</a> +</td><td> + <a href="p4.htm">Next Part</a> + +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + +</body> +</html> |