← King Arthur
King Arthur
Prince and the Pauper (Version 4 - Dramatic Reading)-Mark Twain
08:20:59
Dive into the enchanting world of King Arthur, where the timeless tale of chivalry, romance, and betrayal comes to life. This captivating retelling features the legendary figures of King Arthur, Guinevere, and Sir Lancelot, brought to you by Amanda...
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Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
We the ones still showing up holding
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Narrator
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King Henry VIII
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Narrator
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King Henry VIII
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Narrator
Chapter 0 of the Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org the Prince read by Ali
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Edward Tudor / True Prince
Tom Canty read by Andrea Atwood Tom's
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Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Father read by Larry Wilson Lord Hertford read by beeswax candle Lord St John
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Narrator
read by Carrie Adams your book Boys
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Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Lord Chancellor read by David Purdy Miles
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Miles Hendon
Hendon read by Todd Humphrey Marlowe read
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Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
by Lilly Hugo read by Naveen Hugh Hendon read by Ethan Hurst Henry Viii
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Narrator
read by Algy Pugh Tom's Mother read
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Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
by Wendy Katziller Nan read by the Countess Bet read by Victoria Ellis Bell Lady Jane read by Dawn Sutton Princess Elizabeth read by Victoria Alice Bell Lady Edith read by Devorah Allen Father Andrew
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Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
read by Jim Hedrick Soldier read by
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Narrator
Philip Boy 1 read by Sandra Boy
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Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
2 read by David Purdy Crowd 1
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Miles Hendon
read by Chuck Williamson Crowd 2 read
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Narrator
by Marie Christian Crowd 3 read by
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Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Ted Perkins Page read by Naveen Official
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Miles Hendon
read by Redrun Physician read by Lore
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Narrator
Water man read by Lore Servant read by Caveat Dwarf read by Lore First Lord of the Bedchamber read by Caveat
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Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Archbishop read by David Purdy Admiral read by Lorda First Lord of the Buckhounds read by James Hedrick Chief Equerry in Waiting read by Red Run Male prisoner
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Narrator
read by Caveat Female prisoner read by
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Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Tina lamarou Blind Man Blind Man Blind
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Narrator
man
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Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
read by David Purdy Ruffler read by Hadley Knighton Yokel, read by Jamie
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Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Kurzweg Benevolent Stranger read by the Countess Prissy read by Lily Marjorie read by Mia Catherine Goodwife read by Marie Christian
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Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Hermit read by Joe Bergen Blake Andrews
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Narrator
read by Redrun Baptist Woman, read by
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Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Tina Lamoure Branded Lawyer read by David Purdy Judge, read by Joe Bergen Shopkeeper
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John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
read by Elise Rachelle Officer read by
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Narrator
Inkel the Fair Child read by Mia
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Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Catherine Chronicler read by Doug Fajardo Narrated
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Narrator
by John Paton the Prince and the Pauper Prologue 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 300 years and more, the fathers transmitting it to the sons, and so preserving 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. End of Chapter 0. Chapter one of the Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public Domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org the Prince and the Pauper Chapter 1 the Birth of the Prince and the Pauper in the ancient city of London On a certain autumn day in the second quarter of the 16th century, a boy was born to a poor family of the name of Canty, who did not want him. On the same day another English child was born to a rich family of the name of Tudor, who did want him. All England wanted him too. England had so longed for him, and hoped for him, and prayed God for him, that now that he was really come, the people went nearly mad for joy. Mere acquaintances hugged and kissed each other and cried. Everybody took a holiday, and high and low, rich and poor feasted and danced and sang and got very mellow, and they kept this up for days and nights together. By day London was a sight to see, with gay banners waving from every balcony and housetop, and splendid pageants marching along. By night it was again a sight to see, with its great bonfires at every corner and its troops of revellers making merry around them. There was no talk in all England but of the new baby, Edward Tudor, Prince of Wales, who lay lapped in silks and satins. Unconscious of all this fuss and not knowing that great lords and ladies were tending him and watching over him and not caring either. But there was no talk about the other baby. Tom Canty lapped in his poor rags, except among the family of paupers whom he had just come to trouble with his presence. Chapter 2 of the Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org the Prince and the Pauper Chapter 2 Tom's Early Life Let us skip a number of years. London was 1500 years old and was a great town for that day. It had a hundred thousand inhabitants, some think double as many. The streets were very narrow and crooked and dirty, especially in the part where Tom Canty lived, which was not far from London Bridge. The houses were of wood with the second story projecting over the first and the third sticking its elbows out beyond the second. The higher the houses grew, the broader they grew. They were skeletons of strong criss cross beams with solid material between coated with plaster. The beams were painted red or blue or black according to the owner's taste, and this gave the houses a very picturesque look. The windows were small, glazed with little diamond shaped panes, and they opened outward on hinges like doors. The house which Tom's father lived in was up a foul little pocket called Offal Court out of Pudding Lane. It was small, decayed, and rickety, but it was packed full of wretchedly poor families. Canty's tribe occupied a room on the third floor. The mother and father had a sort of bedstead in the corner, but but Tom, his grandmother, and his two sisters, Bet and Nan, were not restricted. They had all the floor to themselves and might sleep where they chose. There were the remains of a blanket or two and some bundles of ancient and dirty straw, but these could not rightly be called beds, for they were not organized. They were kicked into a general pile mornings and selections made from the mass at night for service. Bet and Nan were 15 years old, twins. They were good hearted girls, unclean, clothed in rags, and profoundly ignorant. Their mother was like them, but the father and the grandmother were a couple of fiends. They got drunk whenever they could, then they fought each other or anybody else who came in the way. They cursed and swore, always drunk or sober. John Canty was a thief and his mother a beggar. They made beggars of the children but failed to make thieves of them among but not of the dreadful rabble that inhabited the house was a good old priest whom the king had turned out of house and home with a pension of a few farthings, and he used to get the children aside and teach them right ways. Secretly. Father Andrew also taught Tom a little Latin and how to read and write, and would have done the same with the girls, but they were afraid of the jeers of their friends, who could not have endured such a queer accomplishment in them all Offal court was just such another hive as Canty's house. Drunkenness, riot, and brawling were the order there every night, and nearly all night long broken heads were as common as hunger in that place. Yet little Tom was not unhappy. He had a hard time of it, but did not know was the sort of time that all the awful court boys had. Therefore, he supposed it was the correct and comfortable thing. When he came home empty handed at night, he knew his father would curse him and thrash him first, and that when he was done, the awful grandmother would do it all over again and improve on it, and that away in the night his starving mother would slip to him stealthily with any miserable scrap or crust she had been able to save for him by going hungry herself. Notwithstanding, she was often caught in that sort of treason and soundly beaten for it by her husband. No, Tom's life went along well enough, especially in summer. He only begged just enough to save himself, for the laws against mendicancy were stringent and the penalties heavy. So he put in a good deal of his time listening to good Father Andrew's charming old tales and legends about giants and fairies, dwarfs and genii, and enchanted castles and gorgeous kings and princes, his head grew to be full of these wonderful things. And many a night, as he lay in the dark on his scant and offensive straw, tired, hungry and smarting from a thrashing, he unleashed his imagination and soon forgot his aches and pains. In delicious picturings to himself of the charmed life of a petted prince in a regal palace. One desire came in time to haunt him day and night. It was to see a real prince with his own eyes. He spoke of it once to some of his awful court comrades, but they jeered him and scoffed him so unmercifully that he was glad to keep his dream to himself. After that he often read the priest's old books and got him to explain and enlarge upon them. His dreamings and readings worked certain changes in him. By and by his dream people were so fine that he grew to lament his Shabby clothing and his dirt and to wish to be clean and better clad. He went on playing in the mud just the same and enjoying it too. But instead of splashing around in the Thames solely for the fun of it, he began to find an added value in it. Because of the washings and cleansings it afforded. Tom could always find something going on around the maypole in Cheapside and at the fairs. And now and then he and the rest of London had a chance to see a military parade. When some famous unfortunate was carried prisoner to the Tower by land or boat. One summer's day. He saw poor Ann askew and three men burned at the stake in Smithfield and heard an ex bishop preach a sermon to them which did not interest him. Yes, Tom's life was varied and pleasant enough on the whole, by and by. Tom's reading and dreaming about princely life wrought such a strong effect upon him that he began to act the prince unconsciously. His speech and manners became curiously ceremonious and courtly to the vast admiration and amusement of his intimates. But Tom's influence among these young people began to grow now day by day, and in time he came to be looked up to by them with a sort of wondering awe. As a superior being he seemed to know so much, and he could do and say such marvelous things. And withal he was so deep and wise. Tom's remarks and Tom's performances were reported by the boys to their elders. And these also presently began to discuss Tom Canty and to regard him as a most gifted and extraordinary creature. Full grown people brought their perplexities to Tom for solution and were often astonished at the wit and wisdom of his decisions. In fact, he was become a hero to all who knew him except his own family. These only saw nothing in him privately. After a while, Tom organized a royal court. He was the prince. His special comrades were guards, chamberlains, equerries, lords and ladies in waiting, and the royal family. Daily the mock prince was received with elaborate ceremonials borrowed by Tom from his romantic readings. Daily the great affairs of the mimic kingdom were discussed in the royal council. And daily his mimic highness issued decrees to his imaginary armies, navies and viceroyalties. After which he would go forth in his rags and beg a few farthings, eat his poor crust, take his customary cuffs and abuse, and then stretch himself upon his handful of foul straw and resume his empty grandeurs in his dreams. And still his desire to look just once upon a real prince in the flesh grew upon him day by day and week by week until at last it absorbed all other desires and became the one passion of his life. One January day, on his usual begging tour, he tramped despondently up and down the region, round about Mincing Lane and Little east cheap hour after hour, barefooted and cold, looking in at cookshop windows, and longing for the dreadful pork pies and other deadly inventions to displayed there. For to him these were dainties fit for the angels, that is, judging by the smell they were, for it had never been his good luck to own and eat one. There was a cold drizzle of rain. The atmosphere was murky. It was a melancholy day. At night Tom reached home so wet and tired and hungry that it was not possible for his father and grandmother to observe his forlorn condition and not be moved after their fashion, wherefore they gave him a brisk cuffing at once and sent him to bed. For a long time his pain and hunger and the swearing and fighting going on in the building kept him awake. But at last his thoughts drifted away to far romantic lands, and he fell asleep in the company of jewelled and gilded princelings who lived in vast palaces and had servants salaaming before them, or flying to execute their orders. And then, as usual, he dreamed that he was a princeling himself. All night long the glories of his royal estate shone upon him. He moved among great lords and ladies in a blaze of light, breathing perfumes, drinking in delicious music, and answering the reverent obeisances of the glittering throng as it parted to make way for him, with here a smile, and there a nod of his princely head. And when he awoke in the morning and looked upon the wretchedness about him, his dream had had its usual effect. It had intensified the sordidness of his surroundings a thousandfold. Then came bitterness and heartbreak and te end of Chapter Two. Chapter 3 of the Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org the Prince and the Pauper Chapter 3 Tom's Meeting with the Prince Tom got up hungry and sauntered hungry away. But with his thoughts busy with the shadowy splendors of his night's dreams, he wandered here and there in the city, hardly noticing where he was going or what was happening around him. People jostled him, and some gave him rough speech, but it was all lost on the musing boy. By and by he found himself at Temple Bar, the farthest from home he had ever travelled in that direction. He stopped and considered a moment, then fell into his imaginings again and passed on outside the walls of London. The Strand had ceased to be a country road then and regarded itself as a street but by a strained construction, for though there was a tolerably compact row of houses on one side of it, there were only some scattered great buildings on the other, these being palaces of rich nobles with ample and beautiful grounds stretching to the river, grounds that are now closely packed with grim acres of brick and stone. Tom discovered Charing Village presently and rested himself at the beautiful cross built there by a bereaved king of earlier days, then idled down a quiet, lovely road past the great Cardinal's stately palace toward a far more mighty and majestic palace beyond Westminster. Tom stared in glad wonder at the vast pile of masonry, the wide spreading wings, the frowning bastions and turrets, the huge stone gateway with its gilded bars and its magnificent array of colossal granite lions and other the signs and symbols of English royalty. Was the desire of his soul to be satisfied at last? Here indeed was a king's palace. Might he not hope to see a prince now, a prince of flesh and blood, if heaven were willing? At each side of the gilded gate stood a living statue, that is to say, an erect and stately and motionless man at arms, clad from head to heel in shining steel armor. At a respectful distance were many country folk and people from the city, waiting for any chance glimpse of royalty that might offer. Splendid carriages with splendid people in them and splendid servants outside were arriving and departing by several other noble gateways that pierced the royal enclosure. Poor little Tom in his rags approached and was moving slowly and timidly past the sentinels with a beating heart and a rising hope, when all at once he caught sight through the golden bars of a spectacle that almost made him shout for joy. Within was a comely boy, tanned and brown, with sturdy outdoor sports and exercises, whose clothing was all of lovely silks and satins shining with jewels, and at his hip a little jeweled sword and dagger, dainty buskins on his feet with red heels, and on his head a jaunty crimson cap with drooping plumes fastened with a great sparkling gem. Several gorgeous gentlemen stood near his servants. Without a doubt, oh, he was a prince, a prince, a living prince, a real prince, without the shadow of a question. And the prayer of the pauper boy's heart was answered at last. Tom's breath came quick and short with excitement, and his eyes grew big with wonder and delight. Everything gave way in his mind instantly to one desire that was to get close to the prince and have a good devouring look at him. Before he knew what he was about, he had his face against the gate bars. The next instant, one of the soldiers snatched him rudely away and sent him spinning among the gaping crowd of country gawks and London idlers. The soldier said, mind thy manners, thou young beggar. The crowd jeered and laughed, but the young prince sprang to the gate with his face flushed and his eyes flashing with indignation, and cried out, how darest
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Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
thou use a poor lad like that? How darest thou use the king, my father's meanest subjects? So open the gate and let him in.
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Narrator
You should have seen that fickle crowd snatch off their hats. Then you should have heard them cheer and shout, long live the Prince of Wales. The soldiers presented arms with their halberds, opened the gates and presented again. As the little prince of poverty passed in in his fluttering rags to join hands with the prince of limitless plenty, Edward Tudor said, thou lookest tired and hungry.
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Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Thou' st been treated ill. Come with me.
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Narrator
Half a dozen attendants sprang forward. Toi don't know what interfere, no doubt, but they were waved aside with a right royal gesture, and they stopped, stock still where they were like so many statues. Edward took Tom to a rich apartment in the palace, which he called his cabinet. By his command, a repast was brought, such as Tom had never encountered before, except in books. The prince, with princely delicacy and breeding, sent away the servants so that his humble guest might not be embarrassed by their critical presence. Then he sat near by and asked questions while Tom ate.
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Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
What is thy name, lad?
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Edward Tudor / True Prince
Tom Canty. An it please thee, sir.
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Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Tis an odd one. Where dost live?
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Edward Tudor / True Prince
In the city, please thee, sir. Awful court. Out of Pudding Lane.
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Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Awful court, truly. Tis another old one. Ask parents.
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Edward Tudor / True Prince
Parents have I, sir, and a grand dam likewise. That is but indifferently precious to me. God forgive me if it be offence to say it also. Twin sisters, Nan and Bet.
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Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Then thy grandam's not over kind to thee, I take it?
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Edward Tudor / True Prince
Neither to any other. Is she so? Please you, Worship. She hath a wicked heart and worketh evil all her days.
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Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Doth she mistreat thee?
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Edward Tudor / True Prince
There be times that she stayeth her hand, being asleep or overcome with drink. But when she hath her judgment clear again, she maketh it up to me with goodly beatings.
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Narrator
A fierce look came into the little prince's eyes, and he cried, wait.
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Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Beatings?
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Edward Tudor / True Prince
Oh, indeed, yes, please you, sir, beatings.
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Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
And thou so frail and little. Hark ye. Before the night has come, she shall hie to the Tower. The king my father.
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Edward Tudor / True Prince
In sooth, you forget, sir, her low degree. The Tower is for the great alone.
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Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
True, indeed. I had not thought of that. I will consider of her punishment. Tis thy father kind to thee.
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Edward Tudor / True Prince
Not more than grammar.
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Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Canty, sir, Fathers be alike. Mayhap mine hath not a doll's temper. He swimmeth in a heavy hand, yet spareth me. He spareth me not, always with his tongue, though sooth to say, how doth mother use thee?
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Edward Tudor / True Prince
She is good, sir, and giveth me neither sorrow nor pain of any sort. And Nan and Bet are like to her in this.
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Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
How old be thee?
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Edward Tudor / True Prince
15, an it please you, sir, the
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Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Lady Elizabeth, my sister, is 14, and the lady Jane Grey, my cousin, is of my own age and comely and gracious withal. But my sister, the Lady Mary, with her gloomy mien, and look you, do thy sisters forbid their servants to smile, lest the sin destroy their souls?
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Edward Tudor / True Prince
They. Oh, dost think, sir, that they have servants?
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Narrator
The little prince contemplated the little pauper gravely a moment, then said, and prithee, why not?
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Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Who helpeth them undressitnoi? Who attendeth them when they rise?
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Edward Tudor / True Prince
None, sir. Wouldst have them take off their garment and sleep without like the beasts
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Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
their garment? Have they but one?
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Edward Tudor / True Prince
Good your worship, what would they do with more? Truly, they have not two bodies each.
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Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Tis a quaint and marvellous thought. Thy pardon. I had not meant to laugh. But thy good Nan and Bet shall have raiment and lackeys now, and that soon too, my coffier shall look to it not. Thank me not. Tis nothing. Thou speak' st well. Thou hast easy grace in it art learned.
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Edward Tudor / True Prince
I know not if I am or not, sir. The good priest that is called Father Andrew taught me of his kindness from his books.
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Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Know' st thou the Latin?
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Edward Tudor / True Prince
But scantly, sir.
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Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
I doubt learned, lad. Tis hard only at first. Greek is harder. But neither these nor any tongues else, I think, are hard. To the Lady Elizabeth and my cousin, thou shouldst hear those damsels at it. But tell me, of thy awful court. Hast thou a pleasant life there?
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Edward Tudor / True Prince
In truth, yes, so please you, sir. Save when one is hungry, there be Punch and Judy shows, and monkeys. O, such antic creatures. And so bravely drest. And there be plays, wherein they that play do shout and fight till all are slain, and tis so fine to see, and costeth but a farthing, albeit tis main hard to get the farthing.
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Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Tell Me more We lads of awful
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Edward Tudor / True Prince
court do strive against each other with the cudgel, like to the fashion of the prentices.
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Narrator
Sometimes the prince's eyes flash'd, said he
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Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
marry, would not I mislike? Tell me more.
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Edward Tudor / True Prince
We strive in races, sir, to see who of us shall be fleetest.
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Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
That would I like also. Speak on.
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Edward Tudor / True Prince
In summer, sir, we wade and swim in the canals and in the river, and each doth duck his neighbour and splatter him with water, and dive and shout and tumble, and twould be worth
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Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
my father's kingdom but to enjoy at once. Prithee, go on.
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Edward Tudor / True Prince
We dance and sing about the maypole, and cheapside we play in the sand, and each covering his neighbour up and times we make mud pastry. O the lovely mud. It hath not its like for delightfulness in all the world. We do fairly wallow in the mud, sir, saving your worship's presence.
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Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
O prithee, say no more. Tis glorious if that I could but clothe me in raiment like thine, and strip my feet and revel in the mud. Once, just once, with none to rebuke me or to forbid meseemeth, I could forego the crowd.
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Edward Tudor / True Prince
And if that eye could clothe me once. Sweet sir, as thou art clad just
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John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
once
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Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
all, wouldst thou like it then so shall it be. Doff thy rags. Don these splendours, lad. It is a brief happiness, but will not be less keen for it. We have it while we may, and change again before any one come to mollist.
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Narrator
A few minutes later, the little Prince of Wales was garlanded with Tom's fluttering odds and ends, and the little prince of Pauperdom was tricked out in the gaudy plumage of royalty. The two went and stood side by side before a great mirror, and lo. A miracle. There did not seem to have been any change made. They stared at each other, then at the glass, then at each other again. At last the puzzled princeling said, what
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Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
dost thou make of this?
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Edward Tudor / True Prince
Ah, good, you, Worship, require me not to answer. It is not meet that one of my degree should utter the thing.
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Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Then will I utter it. Thou hast the same hair, the same eyes, the same voice and manner, the same form and stature, the same face and countenance that I bear fat be for the naked. There is none that could say which was you and which was the Prince of Wales. And now that I am clothed as thou wert clothed, it seemeth I should be able more nearly to feel as thou didst when the brute. Hark ye. Is there not a bruise upon your hand?
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Edward Tudor / True Prince
Yes, but it is a slight thing, and your worship knoweth that the poor man at arms.
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Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Peace. It was shameful thing and a cruel.
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Narrator
Cried the little prince, stamping his bare
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Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
foot, the king, stir not a step till I come again. Tis a command.
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Narrator
In a moment he had snatched up and put away an article of national importance that lay upon a table, and was out at the door and flying through the palace grounds in his bannered rags with a hot face and glowing eyes. As soon as he reached the great gate, he seized the bars and tried to shake them open unbar the gates. The soldier that had maltreated Tom obeyed promptly, and as the prince burst through the portal, half smothered with royal wrath, the soldier fetched him a sounding box on the ear that sent him whirling to the roadway and said, take that,
- [37:55]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
thou beggar spawn, for what thou gotst
- [37:57]
Narrator
me from His Highness. The crowd roared with laughter. The prince picked himself out of the mud and made fiercely at the sentry,
- [38:07]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
shouting, I am the Prince of Wales. My person is sacred and thou hast hanged for laying thy hand upon me.
- [38:17]
Narrator
The soldier brought his halberd to a present arms and said mockingly, I salute your gracious Highness. Then angrily be off that crazy rubbish here. The jeering crowd closed round the poor little prince and hustled him far down the road, hooting him and shouting, way
- [38:39]
Miles Hendon
for His Royal Highness. Way for the Prince of Wales.
- [38:44]
Narrator
End of Chapter three. Chapter four of the Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org the Prince and the Pauper Chapter 4 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 is now, 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
- [40:40]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
the ancient greyfroyers church, which my father hath taken from the monks, and given for a home for ever poor and forsaken children, and new named it Troy's Church. Right gladly will they serve this son of him who hath done so generously by them, and the more that that son is himself as poor and forlorn as any that be sheltered here this day or ever shall be.
- [41:12]
Narrator
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. 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 costume. The boys stopped their play and flocked about the prince, who said with native
- [42:16]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
dignity, good lads, say to your master that Edward, Prince of Wales, desire speech with him.
- [42:24]
Narrator
A great shout went up at this, and one rude fellow said, mary, art
- [42:30]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
thou his grace's messenger, beggar.
- [42:32]
Narrator
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?
- [42:45]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
He fancied he had a sword, belike he is the prince himself.
- [42:51]
Narrator
This sally brought more laughter. Poor Edward drew himself up proudly and
- [42:56]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
said, I am the prince, and it ill beseemeth you that feed upon the king my father's bounty to use me so.
- [43:06]
Narrator
This was vastly enjoyed. As the laughter testified. The youth who had first spoken shouted to his ho.
- [43:15]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Swine.
- [43:17]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Slaves. Pensioners of his grace's princely father. Where be your manners? Down on your marrow bones, all of you, and do reverence to his kingly
- [43:26]
Narrator
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
- [43:41]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
that till to morrow come, I build thee a giblet.
- [43:48]
Narrator
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, hail him forth.
- [44:00]
Miles Hendon
To the horse pond. To the horse pond.
- [44:04]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Where be the dogs, ho.
- [44:06]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
They're lion, ho. Thanks.
- [44:09]
Narrator
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 anyone, since they brought him only insult instead of information. He kept muttering to a fouquilt that's the name.
- [45:00]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
If I can but find it before my strength is wholly spent and I drop, then I am 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 my own again.
- [45:20]
Narrator
And now and then his mind reverted to his treatment by those rude Christ's Hospital boys. And he said, when I am king,
- [45:29]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
they shall not have been bread and shelter only, but also teachings out of books, for a full belly is little worth whether morning to starve. And the heart. I will keep this diligently in my remembrance. That is, this day's lessons will not be upon me, and my people suffer thereby for learning soft hints and the heart and breedeth gentleness and charity.
- [46:03]
Narrator
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
- [46:32]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
night again, and hast not brought a farthing home, I warrant to me.
- [46:37]
Narrator
If it be so, and I do
- [46:39]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
not break all the bones on thy lean body, then I am not John Canty, but some other.
- [46:47]
Narrator
The prince twisted himself loose, unconsciously brushed his profane shoulder, and eagerly said, o,
- [46:55]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
art thou his father? Truly, sweet heaven, grant it be so. Then wilt thou fetch him away and
- [47:03]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
restore me his father? I know not what thou meanest, but I know that I am thy father,
- [47:13]
Narrator
as thou shalt soon have cause to.
- [47:15]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Oh, dust not flatter, not delay not I mourn. I am wounded. I can bear no more. Take me to the king, my father. He will make thee rich beyond thy worldish 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.
- [47:41]
Narrator
The man stared down, stupefied upon the lad, then shook his head and muttered,
- [47:48]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
gone stark mad as any.
- [47:51]
Narrator
Tom Bedlam then collared him once more and said with a coarse laugh and an oath, ha ha ha.
- [48:00]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
But mad or no mad, I and thy gammer Canty will soon find where
- [48:07]
Narrator
the soft places in thy bones lie,
- [48:10]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
or I am no true man.
- [48:14]
Narrator
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. End of Chapter four. Chapter 5 of the Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain this is a Librivox recording.
- [48:43]
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- [50:12]
Narrator
All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org the Prince and the Pauper Chapter 5 Tom as a Patrician Tom Canty, left alone in the Prince's cabinet, made good use of his opportunity. He turned himself this way and that before the great mirror, admiring his finery, then walked away, imitating the Prince's high bred carriage and still observing results in the glass. Next he drew the beautiful sword and bowed, kissing the blade and laying it across his breast as he had seen a noble knight do by way of salute to the Lieutenant of the Tower five or six weeks before when delivering the great Lords of Norfolk and Surrey into his hands for captivity, Tom played with the jewelled dagger that hung upon his thigh. He examined the costly and exquisite ornaments of the room. He tried each of the sumptuous chairs and thought how proud he would be if the awful court herd could only peep in and see him in his grandeur. He wondered if they would believe the marvelous tale he should tell when he got home, or if they would shake their heads and say his overtaxed imagination had at last upset his reason. At the end of half an hour, it suddenly occurred to him that the prince was gone a long time. Then right away he began to feel lonely. Very soon he fell to listening and longing and ceased to toy with the pretty things about him. He grew uneasy, then restless, then distressed. Suppose some one should come and catch him in the prince's clothes, and the prince not there to explain. Might they not hang him at once and inquire into his case afterward? He had heard that the great were prompt about small matters. His fear rose higher and higher, and trembling, he softly opened the door to the antechamber, resolved to fly and seek the prince, and through him protection and release. Six gorgeous gentle servants and two young pages of high degree, clothed like butterflies, sprang to their feet and bowed low before him. He stepped quickly back and shut the door. He said, oh, they mock at me.
- [52:47]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
They will go and tell, oh, why came I here to cast away my life?
- [52:55]
Narrator
He walked up and down the floor filled with nameless fears, listening, starting at every trifling sound. Presently the door swung open and a silken page said, the Lady Jane Grey. The door closed, and a sweet young girl, richly clad, bounded toward him. But she stopped suddenly and said in a distressed, oh. What aileth thee, my lord? Tom's breath was nearly failing him, but he made shift to stammer, Ah, be merciful, thou.
- [53:34]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
In sooth, I am no lord, but only poor Tom Canty of awful court in the city. Prithee, let me see the prince, and he will, if his grace restore me to my rags and let me hence unhurt. O be thou merciful and save me.
- [53:54]
Narrator
By this time the boy was on his knees and supplicating with his eyes and uplifted hands as well as with his tongue. The young girl seemed horror stricken.
- [54:04]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
She cried out, o my lord, on thy knees. And me.
- [54:12]
Narrator
Then she fled away in fright, and Tom, smitten with despair, sank down.
- [54:18]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
There is no help. There is no hope now. They will come and take me.
- [54:26]
Narrator
Whilst he lay there, benumbed with terror, dreadful tidings were speeding through the palace. The whisper, for it was whispered, always flew from menial to menial, from lord to lady, down all the long corridors, from story to story, from saloon to saloon.
- [54:45]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
The prince hath gone mad.
- [54:47]
Narrator
The prince hath gone mad. Soon every saloon, every marble hall had its groups of glittering lords and ladies and other groups of dazzling lesser Folk talking earnestly together in whispers, and every face had in it dismay. Presently a splendid official came marching by these groups, making solemn proclamation in the
- [55:12]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
name of the King. Let none list to this false and foolish matter upon pain of death, nor discuss the same, nor carry it abroad in the name of the King.
- [55:26]
Narrator
The whispering ceased as suddenly as if the whisperers had been stricken dumb. Soon there was a general buzz along the corridors of the Prince. See the Prince. Poor Tom came slowly walking past the low bowing groups, trying to bow in return, and meekly gazing upon his strange surroundings with bewildered and pathetic eyes. Great nobles walked upon each side of him, making him lean upon them and so steady his steps. Behind him followed the court physicians and some servants. Presently Tom found himself in a noble apartment of the palace and heard the door close behind him. Around him stood those who had come with him. Before him, at a little distance reclined a very large and very fat man, with a wide, pulpy face and a stern expression. His large head was very grey, and his whiskers, which he wore only around his face like a frame, were gray. Also his clothing was of rich stuff, but old and slightly frayed in places. One of his swollen legs had a pillow under it and was wrapped in bandages. There was silence now, and there was no head there but was bent in reverence, except this man's. This stern, countenanced invalid was the dread Henry viii, he said, and his face grew gentle as he began to o
- [57:02]
King Henry VIII
now, my lord Edward, my prince hast been minded to cozen me, the good king, thy father, who loveth thee and kindly useth thee. With a sorry jest.
- [57:17]
Narrator
Poor Tom was listening as well as his dazed faculties would let him to the beginning of this speech. But when the words Me the good king fell upon his ear, his face blanched and he dropped as instantly upon his knees as if a shot had brought him there. Lifting up his hands, he exclaimed, thou the king.
- [57:40]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
Then I am undone indeed.
- [57:44]
Narrator
This speech seemed to stun the king. His eyes wandered from face to face aimlessly, then rested bewildered upon the boy before him. Then he said in a tone of deep disappointment, alack, I had believed the
- [57:59]
King Henry VIII
rumour disproportioned to the truth, but I fear me tis not so.
- [58:07]
Narrator
He breathed a heavy sigh and said in a gentle voice, come to thy father, child.
- [58:14]
King Henry VIII
Thou art not well.
- [58:17]
Narrator
Tom was assisted to his feet and approached the majesty of England. Humble and trembling, the king took the frightened face between his hands and gazed earnestly and lovingly into it awhile, as if seeking some grateful sign of returning Reason there then pressed the curly head against his breast and patted it tenderly. Presently he said, dost not know thy father, child?
- [58:47]
King Henry VIII
Break not mine old heart. Say thou know' st me. Thou dost know me, dost thou not?
- [58:56]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
Yea, thou art my dread lord the king, whom God preserve.
- [59:02]
King Henry VIII
True, true, that is well. Be comforted. Tremble not so. There is none here would hurt thee. There is none here but loves thee. Thou art better now. Thy ill dream passeth. Is't not so? Thou wilt not miscall thyself again, as they say thou didst a little while agone.
- [59:28]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
I pray thee of thy grace, believe me, I did but speak the truth, most dread Lord, for I am the meanest among thy subjects, being a pauper born. And tis by a sore mischance and accident I am here, albeit I was there in nothing blameful. I am but young to die, and thou canst save me with one little word. O, speak it, sir.
- [59:54]
King Henry VIII
Die. Talk not so, sweet prince. Peace, peace to thy troubled heart. Thou shalt not die.
- [60:04]
Narrator
Tom dropped upon his knees with a
- [60:07]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
glad cry, God requite thy mercy, O my king, and save thee long to bless thy land.
- [60:15]
Narrator
Then, springing up, he turned a joyful face toward the two lords in waiting and exclaimed, thou heard' st it.
- [60:23]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
I am not to die. The king hath said it.
- [60:28]
Narrator
There was no movement save that all bowed with grave respect, but no one spoke. He hesitated, a little confused, then turned timidly toward the king, saying, I may go now.
- [60:42]
King Henry VIII
Go, surely, if thou desirest, but why not tarry yet a little? Whither wouldst go?
- [60:52]
Narrator
Tom dropped his eyes and answered humbly, peradventure I mistook.
- [60:58]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
But I did think me free, and so was I moved to seek again the kennel where I was born and bred to misery yet which harboureth my mother and my sisters, and so is home to me, whereas these pomps and splendours whereunto I am not used to. Oh, please you, sir, to let me go.
- [61:20]
Narrator
The king was silent and thoughtful awhile, and his face betrayed a growing distress and uneasiness. Presently he said with something of hope in his perchance he is but mad
- [61:34]
King Henry VIII
upon this one strain, and hath his wits unmarred. As toucheth other matter, God send, it may be so, we will make trial.
- [61:45]
Narrator
Then he asked Tom a question in Latin, and Tom answered him lamely in the same tongue the lords and doctors manifested their gratification. Also the king said, twas not according
- [61:58]
King Henry VIII
to his schoolly inability, but sheweth that his mind is but diseased. Not stricken fatally. How say you, sir?
- [62:09]
Narrator
The physician addressed, bowed low and replied, it jumpeth with my own conviction, sire, that thou hast to bind aright. The king looked pleased with this encouragement, coming as it did from so excellent authority, and continued with good heart.
- [62:30]
King Henry VIII
Now, Machior, we will try him further.
- [62:35]
Narrator
He put a question to Tom in French. Tom stood silent a moment, embarrassed by having so many eyes centered upon him, then said diffidently, I have no knowledge of this tongue.
- [62:48]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
So please your majesty.
- [62:51]
Narrator
The King fell back upon his couch. The attendants flew to his assistance, but he put them aside and said, trouble
- [63:00]
King Henry VIII
me not, it is nothing but a scurvy faintness. Raise me there. Tis sufficient. Come hither, child. There rest thy poor troubled head upon thy father's heart and be at peace. Thou' LT soon be well. Tis but a passing fantasy. Fear thou not. Thou' lt soon be well.
- [63:26]
Narrator
Then he turned toward the company. His gentle manner changed, and baleful lightnings began to play from his eyes. He said, list ye all this.
- [63:37]
King Henry VIII
My son is mad. But it is not permanent. Overstudy hath done this, and somewhat too much of confinement. Away with his books and teachers. See ye to it. Pleasure him with sports. Beguile him in wholesome ways, so that his health come again.
- [63:57]
Narrator
He raised himself higher still and went on with energy.
- [64:01]
King Henry VIII
He is mad, but he is my son and England's heir, and mad or sane still shall he reign. And hear ye, father, and proclaim it. Whoso speaketh of this, his distemper worketh against the peace and order of these realms, and shall to the gallows give me to drink. I burn this sorrow. Sappeth my strength. There. Take away the cup. Support me There. That is well. Mad is he, were he a thousand times mad. Yet is he Prince of Wales, and I, the King, will confirm it. This very morrow shall he be installed in his princely dignity in due and ancient form. Take instant order for it. My Lord Hertford.
- [64:53]
Narrator
One of the nobles knelt at the royal couch and said, the King's majesty
- [64:58]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
knoweth that the hereditary great Marshal of England lieth attainted in the Tower. He will not meet that one attainted peace.
- [65:06]
King Henry VIII
Insult not mine ears with his hated name. Is this man to live forever? Am I to be baulked in my will? Is the Prince to tarry uninstalled? Because, forsooth, the realm lacketh an earl marshal free of treasonable taint, to invest him with his honours? No, by the splendour of God. Warn my parliament to bring me Norfolk's doom before the sun Rise again, else shall they answer for it. Grievously,
- [65:38]
Narrator
Lord Hertford said, the King's will is law. And rising, returned to his former place. Gradually the wrath faded out of the old King's face.
- [65:51]
King Henry VIII
And he said, kiss me, my Prince. There. What fearest thou? Am I not thy loving father?
- [66:02]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
Thou art good to me that am unworthy, almighty and gracious lord. That in truth I know, but. But it grieveth me to think of him that is to die. And.
- [66:17]
King Henry VIII
Ah. Tis like thee. Tis like thee. I know thy heart is still the same, even though thy mind hath suffered hurt. For thou wert ever of a gentle spirit. But this Duke standeth between thee and thine honours. I will have another in his stead that shall bring no taint to his great office. Comfort thee, my Prince. Trouble not thy poor head with this
- [66:42]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
matter, but is it not I that speed him hence? My liege? How long might he not live but for me?
- [66:54]
King Henry VIII
Take no thought of him, my Prince. He is not worthy. Kiss me once again, and go to thy trifles and amusements, for my malady distresseth me. I am aweary and would rest. Go with thine Uncle Hertford and thy people, and come again when my body is refreshed.
- [67:17]
Narrator
Tom, heavy hearted was conducted from the presence. For this last sentence was a death blow to the hope he had cherished that now he would be set free once more. He heard the buzz of low voices exclaiming, the Prince.
- [67:33]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
The Prince comes.
- [67:36]
Narrator
His spirit sank lower and lower as he moved between the glittering files of bowing courtiers. For he recognized that he was indeed a captive now and might remain forever shut up in this gilded cage, a forlorn and friendless prince, who except God in his mercy, take pity on him and set him free and turn where he would. He seemed to see floating in the air, the severed head and the remembered face of the great Duke of Norfolk. The eyes fixed on him reproachfully. His old dreams had been so pleasant, but this reality was so dreary. Chapter 6 of the Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org the Prince and the Pauper Chapter Six Six Tom Receives Instructions Tom was conducted to the principal apartment of a noble suite and made to sit down. A thing which he was loath to do. Since there were elderly men and men of high degree about him, he begged them to be seated also. But they only bowed their thanks or murmured them, and remained standing. He would have insisted, but his uncle, the Earl of Hertford, whispered in his
- [69:15]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
ear, prithee insist not, my lord. Tis not meet that they sit in thy Presence.
- [69:22]
Narrator
The Lord St John was announced, and after making obeisance to Tom, he said, I come upon the King's errand concerning a matter which requireth privacy.
- [69:35]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Will it please your Royal Highness to
- [69:37]
Narrator
dismiss all that attend you here, save my Lord the Earl of Hertford. Observing that Tom did not seem to know how to proceed, Hertford whispered him to make a sign with his hand and not trouble himself to speak unless he chose. When the waiting gentleman had retired, Lord St. John His Majesty commandeth that for due and weighty reasons of state, the Prince's grace shall hide his infirmity in all ways that be within his power till it be past, and he be as he was before.
- [70:16]
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- [71:46]
Narrator
The witness that he shall deny to
- [71:48]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
none that he is the true Prince and heir to England's greatness, that he
- [71:55]
Narrator
shall uphold his princely dignity, and shall receive without word or sign of protest,
- [72:03]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
that reverence and observance which unto it
- [72:07]
Narrator
do appertain of right and ancient usage,
- [72:12]
Miles Hendon
that he shall cease to speak to
- [72:14]
Narrator
any of that lowly birth and life his melody hath conjured out of the unwholesome imaginings of o' erwrought fancy, that he shall strive with diligence to bring unto his memory again those faces which
- [72:30]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
he was wont to know.
- [72:32]
Narrator
And where he faileth, he shall hold
- [72:35]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
his peace, neither betraying by semblance of
- [72:39]
Narrator
surprise or other sign that he hath forgot, that upon occasions of state, whensoever any matter shall perplex him as to the thing he should do or the
- [72:52]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
utterance he should make, he shall show
- [72:55]
Narrator
naught of unrest to the curious that
- [72:58]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
look on but take advice in that
- [73:01]
King Henry VIII
matter of the Lord Hertford, or my
- [73:04]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
humble self, which are commanded of the King to be upon this service and
- [73:10]
Narrator
close at call till this commandment be dissolved. Thus saith the King's majesty, who sendeth
- [73:19]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
greeting to your Royal Highness, and prayeth that God will of his mercy quickly
- [73:26]
Narrator
heal you, and have you now and ever in his holy keeping. The Lord St. John made reverence and stood aside. Tom replied resignedly, the King hath said it.
- [73:41]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
None may palter with the King's command, or fit it to his case, where it doth chafe with deft evasions. The King shall be obeyed, Lord Hertford
- [73:53]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
said, touching the King's majesty's ordainment concerning books and such like serious matters, it may peradventure, please your highness, to ease your time with lightsome entertainment, lest you go weary to the banquet and suffer harm thereby.
- [74:10]
Narrator
Tom's face showed inquiring surprise, and a blush followed when he saw Lord St John's eyes bent sorrowfully upon him. His lordship said, thy memory still wrongeth thee, and thou hast shown surprise, but
- [74:26]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
suffer it not to trouble thee, for
- [74:29]
Narrator
tis a matter that will not bide
- [74:31]
King Henry VIII
but depart with thy mending malady.
- [74:34]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
My Lord of Hertford speaketh of the
- [74:36]
Narrator
city's banquet, which the King's majesty did
- [74:39]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
promise some two months flown.
- [74:42]
Narrator
Your highness should attend thou recallest it now.
- [74:48]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
It grieves me to confess it had
- [74:50]
Narrator
indeed escaped me, said Tom in a hesitating voice, and blushed again. At this moment the Lady Elizabeth and the Lady Jane Grey were announced. The two lords exchanged significant glances, and Hertford stepped quickly toward the door. As the young girls passed him, he said in a low I pray ye,
- [75:13]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
ladies, seem not to observe his humours nor show surprise when his memory doth lapse. It will grieve you to note how it doth stick at every trifle.
- [75:25]
Narrator
Meantime Lord St John was saying in Tom's ear, please you, sir, keep diligently
- [75:31]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
in mind his majesty's desire.
- [75:35]
King Henry VIII
Remember all.
- [75:36]
Narrator
Thou canst seem to remember all else.
- [75:40]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Let them not perceive that thou art much changed from thy want, for thou
- [75:46]
Narrator
knowest how tenderly thy old playfellows bear
- [75:49]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
thee in their hearts, and how twould grieve them.
- [75:53]
Narrator
Art willing, sir, that I remain and thine. Uncle Tom signified assent with a gesture and a murmured word, for he was already learning, and in his simple heart was resolved to acquit himself as best he might, according to the king's command. In spite of every precaution, the conversation among the young people became a little embarrassing. At times more than once, in truth, Tom was near to breaking down and confessing himself unequal to his tremendous part. But the tact of the Princess Elizabeth saved him. Or a word from one or the other of the vigilant lords thrown in, apparently by chance, had the same happy effect. Once the little Lady Jane turned to Tom and dismayed him with this hast
- [76:45]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
paid thy duty to the queen's majesty to day, my lord.
- [76:50]
Narrator
Tom hesitated, looked distressed, and was about to stammer out something at hazard, when Lord St. John took the word and answered for him with the easy grace of a courtier accustomed to encounter delicate difficulties or and to be ready for them. He hath indeed, madam, and she did
- [77:11]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
greatly hearten him as touching his majesty's condition. Is it not so, your highness?
- [77:19]
Narrator
Tom mumbled something that stood for assent, but felt that he was getting upon dangerous ground. Somewhat later it was mentioned that Tom was to study no more at present, whereupon her little ladyship exclaimed, tis a pity.
- [77:35]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Tis a pity thou wert proceeding bravely, but bide thy time and patience. It will not be for long. Thou' lt yet be graced with learning
- [77:47]
Narrator
like thy father, and make thy tongue
- [77:50]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
master of as many languages as his. Good my prince.
- [77:56]
Narrator
My father, cried Tom, off his guard.
- [77:59]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
For the moment I trow he cannot speak his own, so that any but the swine that kennel in the styes may tell his meaning. And as for learning of any sort
- [78:10]
Narrator
soever, he looked up and encountered a solemn warning in my Lord St. John's eyes. He stopped, blushed, then continued low and
- [78:22]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
ah, my malady persecuteth me again, and my mind wandereth. I meant the king's grace. No irreverence.
- [78:31]
Narrator
We know it, sir, said the Princess Elizabeth taking her brother's hand between her two palms, respectfully but caressingly.
- [78:40]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Trouble not thyself as to that. The fault is none of thine but thy distempers.
- [78:46]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
Thou art a gentle comforter, sweet lady,
- [78:49]
Narrator
said Tom gratefully, and my heart moveth
- [78:52]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
me to thank thee for it, an I may be so bold.
- [78:57]
Narrator
Once the giddy little Lady Jane fired a simple Greek phrase at Tom. The 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 sand bars 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 delighted, 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 the
- [81:16]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Prince's grace, my brother, to go?
- [81:20]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
Indeed, your ladyships can have whatsoever of me they will for the asking. Yet would I rather give them any other thing than my poor power? Lieth then leave to take the light and blessing of their presence hence. Give ye good den And God be with ye.
- [81:41]
Narrator
Then he smiled inwardly at the thought.
- [81:44]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
Tis not for naught I have dwelt but among princes in my reading, and taught my tongue some slight trick of their broidered and gracious speech.
- [81:53]
Narrator
Withal, when the illustrious maidens were gone, Tom turned wearily to his keepers and
- [82:01]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
said, may it please your lordships to grant me leave to go into some corner and rest me.
- [82:07]
Narrator
The Lord Hertford said, so please your
- [82:10]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
highness, it is for you to command. Tis for us to obey. That thou shouldst rest is indeed a needful thing, since thou must journey to the city presently.
- [82:21]
Narrator
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 beshrew
- [83:12]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
me, but I marvel they do not require to breathe. For me also.
- [83:18]
Narrator
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 awhile, with much head shaking and walking the floor. Then Lord St John Plainly, what dost thou think?
- [84:00]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
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. Nayly, it promiseth so indeed. But have you no misgivings as to. As to.
- [84:22]
Narrator
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.
- [84:38]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
There is none to hear but me misgivings as to what
- [84:45]
Narrator
I am full loath to word the thing that is
- [84:48]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
in my mind, and thou so near
- [84:50]
Narrator
to him in blood, my lord, but
- [84:53]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
craving pardon if I do offend.
- [84:55]
Narrator
Seemeth it not strange that madness could
- [84:58]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
so change his port and manner? Not but that his port and speech are princely still, but that they differ in one unweighted 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
- [85:24]
Narrator
his due, from such as be about him, and leaving him his Latin, strip
- [85:30]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
him of his Greek and French. My lord, be not offended, but ease my mind of its disquiet and receive my grateful thanks.
- [85:41]
Narrator
It haunteth me his saying he was not the Prince.
- [85:46]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
And so. Peace, My lord. The utterest treason hast forgot the King's command. Remember, I am party to thy crime.
- [85:55]
Narrator
If I But listen, St. John paled and hastened to say I was in
- [86:01]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
fault, I do confess it.
- [86:04]
Narrator
Betray me not. Grant me this grace out of thy
- [86:08]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
courtesy, and I will neither think nor
- [86:10]
Narrator
speak of this thing more. Deal not hardly with me, sir, else I am ruined.
- [86:18]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
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 needst not have misgivings. He is my sister's son, and 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 thou not recall that the old Baron Marley, being mad, forgot the favour of his own countenance that he had known for 60 years and held it was another's? Nay, even claimed he was the son of Mary Magdalen, 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.
- [87:23]
Narrator
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.
- [87:55]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
He must be the Prince. Will any bee in all the land maintain there can be two, not of one blood and birth so marvellously twinned? And even were it slow, so twere yet a stranger miracle that chance should cast the one into the other's place. Nay, tis folly, folly, folly.
- [88:17]
Narrator
Presently he said, now were he impostor,
- [88:20]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
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.
- [88:40]
King Henry VIII
No.
- [88:41]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
By the soul of St. Swithin, no. This is the true prince gone mad.
- [88:49]
Narrator
End of Chapter six. Chapter 7 of the Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org the Prince and the Pauper Chapter 7 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 besides 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, spoken curiously and with deep interest, for it was of a very dainty and beautiful fabric. Then said with simplicity, prithee, take it
- [92:24]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
away, lest in mine unheedfulness it be soiled.
- [92:28]
Narrator
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. 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 own hands during the meal. And he did not doubt that he had done a most improper and unprincely thing. At that moment the muscles of his nose began to twitch and the end of that organ to lift and wrinkle. This continued, and Tom began to evince a growing distress. He looked appealingly first at one and then another of the lords about him, and tears came into his eyes. They sprang forward with dismay in their faces and begged to know his trouble. Tom said with genuine I crave your indulgence.
- [93:52]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
My nose itcheth cruelly. What is the custom and usage in this emergence? Prithee, speed, for tis but a little time that I can bear it.
- [94:03]
Narrator
None smiled, but all were sore perplexed and looked one to the other in deep tribulation for counsel. But, behold, here was a dead wall and nothing in English history to tell how to get over it. The master of ceremonies was not present. There was no one who felt safe to venture upon this uncharted sea or. Or risk the attempt to solve this solemn problem. Alas, there was no hereditary scratcher. Meantime, the tears had overflowed their banks and begun to trickle down Tom's cheeks. His twitching nose was pleading more urgently than ever for relief. At last nature broke down the barriers of etiquette. Tom lifted up an inward prayer for pardon if he was doing wrong, and brought relief to the burdened hearts of his court by scratching his nose himself. His meal being ended, a lord came and held before him a broad, shallow golden dish with fragrant rose water in it to cleanse his mouth and fingers with. And my lord, the hereditary diaperer stood by with a napkin for his use. Tom gazed at the dish a puzzled moment or two, then raised it to his lips and gravely took a draught. Then he returned it to the waiting
- [95:26]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
lord and said, nay, it likes me not, my lord. It hath a pretty flavour, but it wanteth strength.
- [95:34]
Narrator
This new eccentricity of the prince's ruined mind made all the hearts about him ache, but the sad sight moved none to merriment. Tom's next unconscious blunder was to get up and leave the table to just when the chaplain had taken his stand behind his chair, and with uplifted hands and closed uplifted eyes, was in the act of beginning the blessing. Still nobody seemed to perceive that the prince had done a thing unusual. By his own request, our small friend was now conducted to his private cabinet and left there alone to his own devices. Hanging upon hooks in the oaken wainscoting were the stone several pieces of a suit of shining steel armor, covered all over with beautiful designs exquisitely inlaid in gold. This martial panoply belonged to the true prince, a recent present from Madame Parr, the Queen. Tom put on the greaves, the gauntlets, the plumed helmet, and such other pieces as he could don without assistance, and for a while was minded to call for help and complete the matter. But bethought him of the nuts he had brought away from dinner, and the joy it would be to eat them, with no crowd to eye him, and no grand hereditaries to pester him with undesired services. So he restored the pretty things to their several places, and soon was cracking nuts, and feeling almost naturally happy for the first time since God for his sins had made him a prince. When the nuts were all gone, he stumbled upon some inviting books in a closet, among them one about the etiquette of the English court. This was a prize he lay down upon a sumptuous divan and proceeded to instruct himself with honest zeal. Let us leave him there for the present End of Chapter. Chapter 8 of the Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain. This is a librivox Recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org the Prince and the Pauper Chapter 8 the Question of the Seal About 5 o', clock, Henry VIII awoke out of an unrefreshing nap and muttered to troublous dreams.
- [98:18]
King Henry VIII
Troublous dreams. Mine end is now at hand. So say these warnings, and my failing pulses do confirm it.
- [98:27]
Narrator
Presently a wicked light flamed up in his eye, and he muttered, yet will
- [98:33]
King Henry VIII
I not die till he go before
- [98:37]
Narrator
his attendants. Perceiving that he was awake, one of them asked his pleasure concerning the Lord chancellor, who was waiting without Admit him, admit him. Exclaimed the king eagerly. The Lord chancellor entered and knelt by the king's couch, saying, I have given
- [98:56]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
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.
- [99:13]
Narrator
The king's face lit up with a fierce joy. Said he, lift me up in mine
- [99:19]
King Henry VIII
own person will I go before my parliament, and with mine own hand will I seal a warrant that that ridge me of
- [99:27]
Narrator
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, alack, how I
- [99:43]
King Henry VIII
have 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.
- [100:15]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
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 the seal?
- [100:28]
King Henry VIII
Who keepeth the seal but thou?
- [100:32]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Please your majesty. You did take it from me two days since, saying, it should no more
- [100:37]
Narrator
do its office, till your own royal
- [100:39]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
hand should use it upon the Duke of Norfolk's warrant.
- [100:43]
King Henry VIII
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.
- [101:03]
Narrator
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.
- [101:19]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
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
- [101:29]
Narrator
against the day that True, most true, interrupted the King.
- [101:35]
King Henry VIII
Fetch it. Go time Flieth.
- [101:39]
Narrator
Lord Hertford flew to Tom, but returned to the King before very long. Troubled and empty handed, he delivered himself to this
- [101:51]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
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 a 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 Highness.
- [102:13]
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Narrator
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- [103:43]
Narrator
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,
- [103:53]
King Henry VIII
o 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.
- [104:15]
Narrator
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.
- [104:34]
King Henry VIII
What thou here yet by the glory of God, and thou gettest not about thy trader's business, thy might it shall have holiday the morrow for lack of a head to grace withal.
- [104:46]
Narrator
The trembling chancellor answered, good your majesty,
- [104:50]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
I cry you mercy. I but waited for the seal.
- [104:56]
King Henry VIII
Man, hast thou lost thy wits? The small seal, which aforetimes I was wont to take with me abroad, lieth in my treasury, and since the great seal hath flown away, shall it not suffice hast lost thy wits. Begone, and hark ye, come no more till thou do bring his head.
- [105:19]
Narrator
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. Chapter 8. Chapter 9 of the Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org the Prince and the Pauper Chapter 9 the River Pageant at nine in the evening, the whole vast riverfront 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, pleasure barges, all fringed with colored 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 hall birdiers in polished armor, and its troops of brilliantly costumed servitors flitting up and down and to and fro in the hurry of preparation. 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. A file of 40 or 50 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. 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 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 perfled 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 12 French gentlemen in splendid habiliments, consisting of poor plants of white damask barred with gold, short mantles of crimson velvet lined with violet taffeta and carnation colored hautes to shows, and took their way down the steps. They were of the suite of the French Ambassador, and were followed by 12 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. 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
- [111:46]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
way for the high and mighty, the Lord Edward, Prince of Wales.
- [111:53]
Narrator
High aloft on the palace walls a long line of red tongues of flowers. Flame leapt forth with a thunder crash, the mast whirled 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. He was magnificently habited in a doublet of white satin with a front piece of purple cloth of tissue powdered with diamonds and edge 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. End of Chapter nine. Chapter 10 of the Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org the Prince and the Pauper Chapter 10 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 up to stop the man's arm, and the blow descended upon his own wrist. Canty roared, thou' lt medal.
- [114:25]
King Henry VIII
Wilt thou then have thy reward?
- [114:30]
Narrator
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 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 gray hair and malignant eyes. John Canty said to this Terry, there's fine mummeries here. Mar them not till thou' st enjoyed them.
- [115:38]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Then let thy hand be heavy, as thou wilt.
- [115:42]
King Henry VIII
Stand forth, lad.
- [115:44]
Narrator
Now say thy foolery again, and thou'
- [115:47]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
st not forgot it. Name thy name.
- [115:51]
Narrator
Who art thou? The insulted blood mounted to the little prince's chest cheek once more, and he lifted a steady and indignant gaze to the man's face and said, tis but
- [116:04]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
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.
- [116:18]
Narrator
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, except 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.
- [117:09]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
Thy foolish reading hath wrought its woeful work at last, and ta' en thy wit away. Why didst thou cleave to it when I so warned thee against it? Thou broke thy mother's heart.
- [117:24]
Narrator
The prince looked into her face and
- [117:27]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
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 the king, my father, will restore him to thee.
- [117:42]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
The king thy father. O my child, unsay these words that
- [117:47]
Narrator
be freighted with death for thee, and ruin for all that be near to thee.
- [117:52]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
Shake off this gruesome dream, call back thy poor wandering memory.
- [117:58]
Narrator
Look upon me.
- [117:59]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
Am not I thy mother that bore thee and loveth thee?
- [118:05]
Narrator
The prince shook his head and reluctantly
- [118:08]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
said, God knoweth I am loath to give thy heart, but truly, I've never looked upon thy face before.
- [118:17]
Narrator
The woman sank back to a sitting posture on the floor, and covering her eyes with her hands, gave way to heartbroken sobs and wailings.
- [118:29]
King Henry VIII
Let the show go on.
- [118:31]
Narrator
Shouted Canty.
- [118:33]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
What, Nan?
- [118:35]
Narrator
What bet, mannerless wenches, will ye stand
- [118:39]
King Henry VIII
in the prince's presence upon your knees,
- [118:43]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
ye pauper scum, and do him reverence?
- [118:48]
Narrator
He followed this with another hoarse laugh. The girls began to plead timidly for their brother, and Nan said, an't thou
- [118:57]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
wilt but let him to bed, Father. Rest and sleep will heal his madness. Prithee, do, do, father said.
- [119:05]
Narrator
Bed.
- [119:06]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
He is more worn than he is. Wont tomorrow will he be himself again, and will beg with diligence and come not empty home again.
- [119:13]
Narrator
This remark sobered the father's joviality and brought his mind to business.
- [119:19]
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- [121:19]
Narrator
He turned angrily upon the prince and said, the morrow must we pay two
- [121:24]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
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.
- [121:39]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
The prince said, offend me not with thy sordid manners. I tell thee, I am the king's son.
- [121:48]
Narrator
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 into eagerly forward to assist her son. The prince sprang away from Mrs. Canty,
- [122:15]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
exclaiming, Thou shalt not suffer for me, madam. Let these swine do their will upon me.
- [122:24]
Narrator
This speech infuriated the swine to such a degree that they set about their work without waste of time between them. They belabored the boy right soundly, and then gave the girls and their mother a beating for showing sympathy for the victim. Now, said Canty, to bed, all of ye. The entertainment has tired me. 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. 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. 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 labored 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.
- [126:42]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
He hath never been startled of a
- [126:44]
Narrator
sudden out of his dreams or out of his thought.
- [126:46]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
Thinkings but he hath cast his hand before his eyes even as he did that day, and not as others would
- [126:54]
Narrator
do it, with the palm inward, but
- [126:56]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
always with the palm turned outward. I have seen it a hundred times, and it hath never varied, nor ever failed.
- [127:06]
Narrator
Yes, I shall soon know. Now, 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. 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.
- [128:10]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
No, she said, his hands are not mad.
- [128:14]
Narrator
They could not unlearn so old a
- [128:17]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
habit in so brief a time. Oh, this is a heavy day for me.
- [128:24]
Narrator
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.
- [128:55]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
But I cannot give him up.
- [128:58]
Narrator
Oh, no, I cannot. I cannot.
- [129:01]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
He must be my boy.
- [129:04]
Narrator
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,
- [129:33]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
he murmured, sir William.
- [129:37]
Narrator
After a moment.
- [129:38]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Ho, Sir William Herbert, Hie thee hither. Enlist the strange dream that ever. Sir William. Dost thou hear, man? I think me changed into a pauper. And ho there, Gods. Sir William, wait. Tis then no groom in the chamber in waiting. Alack, it shall go hard with what aileth thee?
- [130:05]
Narrator
Asked a whisper near him.
- [130:07]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Who art thou calling? Sir William Hubbard. Who art thou?
- [130:13]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
I?
- [130:14]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Who should I be but thy sister Nan? Oh, Tom, I have forgot. Thou art mad yet, poor lady. Thou art mad yet. Would I never woke to know it again. But prithee, master thy tongue, lest we all be beaten till we die.
- [130:34]
Narrator
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.
- [130:48]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Alas, it was no dream.
- [130:51]
Narrator
Then, in a moment, all the heavy sorrow and misery which sleep had banished were upon him again, and he realized 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. 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 who knocketh?
- [131:36]
King Henry VIII
What wilt thou?
- [131:38]
Narrator
A voice answered.
- [131:39]
Miles Hendon
Knowest thou who it was thou laid thy cudgel on?
- [131:45]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
No, neither know I nor care. Belike thou' LT change thy note eftsoons
- [131:52]
Miles Hendon
and thou wouldst save thy neck.
- [131:54]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Nothing but flight may stead thee. The man is this moment delivering up the ghost.
- [132:01]
Narrator
Tis the priest.
- [132:02]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Father Andrew.
- [132:04]
Narrator
God a mercy. Exclaimed Canty. He roused his family and hoarsely commanded, up with thee all and fly, or
- [132:13]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
bide where ye are and perish.
- [132:17]
Narrator
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.
- [132:33]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Mind thy tongue, thou mad fool, and speak not our name.
- [132:38]
Narrator
I will choose me a new name
- [132:40]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
speedily to throw the law's dogs off the scent.
- [132:45]
Narrator
Mind thy tongue, I tell thee. He growled these words to the rest of the family.
- [132:52]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
If it so chance that we be separated, let each make for London Bridge.
- [132:58]
Narrator
Whoso findeth himself as far as the
- [133:00]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
last lynnendraper shop on the bridge, let him tarry there till the others be come.
- [133:06]
Narrator
Then will we flee into Southwark together. 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 colored lights, and constant explosions of fireworks filled the skies with an intricate commingling of shooting splendors and a thick rain of dazzling sparks that almost turned night into day. Everywhere were crowds of revelers. All London seemed to be at large. 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, nay, whither so fast, friend? Dost canker thy soul with sordid business, when all that be leal men and true make holiday.
- [134:57]
King Henry VIII
Mine affairs are my own.
- [134:58]
Narrator
They concern thee not, answered Canty roughly.
- [135:02]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Take away thy hand and let me pass. Sith that is thy humour, thou' lt
- [135:10]
Narrator
not pass till thou' st drunk. To the Prince of Wales. I tell thee that, said the waterman, barring the way resolutely.
- [135:21]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Give me the cup, then, and make speed, make speed.
- [135:26]
Narrator
Other revellers were interested by this time. They cried out, the loving cup, the
- [135:32]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
loving cup, make the loving cup.
- [135:40]
Narrator
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. He very soon realized this fact and straightway busied himself about his own affairs without further thought of John Canty.
- [136:34]
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- [137:04]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
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- [137:58]
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- [138:28]
Narrator
He quickly realized 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. Therefore, there was but one course to pursue. Find his way to the Guildhall, make himself known and 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. Chapter 10. Chapter 11 of the Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org the Prince and the Pauper Chapter 11 at Guildhall, the royal barge attended by its gorgeous fragments 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 encrusted with sparkling lights, wherefore, in their remoteness, they seemed like jeweled 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. To Tom Canty, half buried in his silken cushions, these sounds and this spectacle were a wonder, unspeakable, unspeakably sublime and astonishing. To his little friends at his side, the Princess Elizabeth and the Lady Jane Grey, they were nothing. Arrived at the Dow Gate. The fleet was towed up the limpid Wallbrook, 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 in his gallant procession crossed Cheapside and made a short march through the old Jewry and Basinghall street to the Guildhall. Tom and his little ladies were received with due ceremony by the lord mayor and the fathers of the city 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 proclamations 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 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 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. 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.
- [143:26]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Space being made. Presently entered a baron and an earl apparelled after the Turkish fashion, in long robes of bodkin powdered with gold, hats on their heads of crimson velvet, with great rolls of gold girded with two swords called scimitars, hanging by great baldricks 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 a hatchet in their hands, and boots with pikes points a foot long turned up. And after them came a knight and then the Lord High Admiral, and with him five nobles in doublets of crimson velvet voided low on the back and before to the cannel bone, laced on the breasts with chains of silver. And over that short cloaks of crimson satin. And on their heads hats after the dancer's fashion, with pheasants, feathers in them. These were apparelled after the fashion of Prussia. The torch bearers, which were about a hundred, were apparelled in crimson satin and green, like moors, their faces black. Next came in a mammary. Then the minstrels which were disguised danced and. And the lords and ladies did wildly dance also, that it was a pleasure to behold.
- [145:17]
Narrator
And while Tom in his high seat was gazing upon this wild dancing, lost in admiration of the dazzling commingling of kaleidoscopic colors 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 and denouncing the impostor and clamoring 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, adding mockings stung him, and he exclaimed, I tell ye again,
- [146:17]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
ye pack of unmannerly curs, I am the Prince of Wales, all forlorn and friendless as I be, with none to give me word of grace or to help me in my need. Yet will I not be driven from my ground, but Will maintain it, though
- [146:39]
Miles Hendon
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 mightest 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.
- [147:09]
Narrator
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.
- [147:57]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Tis another prince in disguise.
- [148:00]
Advertisement / Commercial Voice
Wear thy tongue, friend.
- [148:01]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Belike he is dangerous.
- [148:03]
Narrator
Marry, here looketh it. Mark his eye.
- [148:07]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Pluck the lad from him to the horse pond with the cub.
- [148:11]
Narrator
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
- [148:28]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
shouted, kill the dog.
- [148:30]
Miles Hendon
Kill him. Kill him.
- [148:32]
Narrator
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. 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 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. The closing words, solemnly pronounced were, the king is dead. 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.
- [150:13]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Long live the King.
- [150:16]
Narrator
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, answer me truly, on
- [150:39]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
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?
- [150:56]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
None, my liege, in all these realms, in thy person bides the majesty of England. Thou art the King. Thy word is law.
- [151:06]
Narrator
Tom responded in a strong, earnest voice, and with great then shall the King's
- [151:13]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
law be Law of mercy from this day and nevermore 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.
- [151:29]
Narrator
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 the reign of blood is ended. Long live Edward, King of England. End of chapter 11. Chapter 12 of the Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org the Prince and the Pauper Chapter 12 the Prince and His Deliverer as soon as Miles Hendon and the Little Prince were clear of the mob, they struck down through back lanes and alleys toward the river. Their way was unobstructed until they approached London Bridge. Then they ploughed into the multitude again, Hendon keeping a fast grip upon the Prince's the King's wrist. The tremendous news was already abroad, and the boy learned it from a thousand voices at once. The King is dead. The tidings struck a chill to the heart of the poor little waif and sent a shudder through his frame. He realized the greatness of his loss and was filled with a bitter grief for the grim tyrant who had been such a terror to others, had always been gentle with him. The tears sprang to his eyes and blurred all objects. For an instant he felt himself the most forlorn, outcast and forsaken of God's creatures. Then another cry shook the night with its far reaching thunders.
- [153:26]
Advertisement / Commercial Voice
Long live King Edward vi
- [153:30]
Narrator
and this made his eyes kindle and thrilled him with pride to his fingers ends.
- [153:37]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Ah, he thought, how grand and strange it seems I am king.
- [153:46]
Narrator
Our friends threaded their way slowly through the throngs upon the bridge. This structure, which had stood for 600 years and had been a noisy and populous thoroughfare all that time, was a curious affair for a closely packed rank of stores and shops with family quarters overhead stretched along both sides of it from one bank of the river to the other. The bridge was a sort of town to itself. It had its inn, its beer houses, its bakeries, its haberdasheries, its food markets, its manufacturing industries, and even its church. It looked upon the two neighbors which it linked together, London and Southwark, as being well enough as suburbs, but not otherwise particularly important. It was a close corporation, so to speak. It was a narrow town of a single street, a fifth of a mile long. Its population was but a village population, and everybody in it knew all his fellow townsmen intimately and had known their fathers and mothers before them and all their little family affairs into the bargain. It had its aristocracy, of course, its fine old families of butchers and bakers and what not, who had occupied the same old premises for five or six hundred years and knew the great history of the bridge from beginning to end and all its strange legends, and who always talked bridgy talk and thought bridgy thoughts and lied in a long, level, direct, substantial, bridgy way. It was just the sort of population to be narrow and ignorant and self conceited. Children were born on the bridge, were reared there, grew to old age, and finally died without ever having set a foot upon any part of the world but London Bridge alone. Such people would naturally imagine that the mighty and interminable procession which moved through its street night and day, with its confused roar of shouts and cries, its neighings and bellowings and bleatings and its muffled thunder tramp was the one great thing in this world, and themselves somehow the proprietors of it. And so they were, in effect. At least they could exhibit it from their windows and did for a consideration whenever returning king or hero gave it a fleeting splendor, for there was no place like it for affording a long, straight, uninterrupted view of marching columns. Men born and reared upon the bridge found life unendurably dull and inane. Elsewhere, history tells of one of these who left the bridge at the age of 6, 71, and retired to the country. But he could only fret and toss in his bed. He could not go to sleep. The deep stillness was so painful, so awful, so oppressive. When he was worn out with it at last, he fled back to his old home, a lean and haggard spectre, and fell peacefully to rest and pleasant dreams under the lulling music of the lashing waters and the boom and crash and thunder of London Bridge. In the times of which we are writing, the bridge furnished object lessons in English history for its children, namely, the livid and decaying heads of renowned men impaled upon iron spikes atop of its gateways. But we digress. Hendon's lodgings were in the little inn on the bridge. As he neared the door with his small friend, a rough voice so thou'
- [157:44]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
rt come at last.
- [157:46]
Narrator
Thou' lt not escape again, I warrant thee.
- [157:50]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
And if pounding thy bones to a
- [157:52]
Narrator
pudding can teach thee somewhat, thou' lt
- [157:55]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
not keep us waiting. Another time, mayhap.
- [157:58]
Narrator
And John Canty put out his hand to seize the boy. Miles Hendon stepped in the way and
- [158:05]
Miles Hendon
said, not too fast, friend, Thou art needlessly rough, methinks. What is the lad to thee?
- [158:15]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
If it be any business of thine to make him meddle another's affairs, he is my son.
- [158:24]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Tis a lie.
- [158:25]
Narrator
Cried the little king hotly,
- [158:29]
Miles Hendon
Boldly said, and I believe thee, whether thy small headpiece be sound or crack'd, my boy. But whether this scurvy ruffian be thy father or no, Tis all one. He shall not have thee to beat thee and abuse according to his threat. So thou prefer to bide with me.
- [158:51]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
I do, I do. Ah. I know him not. I loathe him, and will die before I go with him.
- [159:00]
Miles Hendon
Then tis settled, and there is not more to say.
- [159:05]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
We will see as to that.
- [159:07]
Narrator
Exclaimed John Canty, striding past Hendon to get at the boy by force shall he.
- [159:14]
Miles Hendon
If thou do but touch him, thou animated offal, I will spit thee like
- [159:18]
Narrator
a goose, said Hendon, barring the way and laying his hand upon his sword hilt. Canty drew back.
- [159:27]
Miles Hendon
Now, mark ye, continued Hendon, I took this lad under my protection when a mob of such as thou would have mishandled him, mayhap killed him. Dost imagine I will desert him now to a worser fate. For whether thou art his father or no, and sooth to say, I think it is a lie. A decent swift death were better for such a lad than life in such brute hands as thine. So go thy ways, and set quick about it, for I like not much bandying of words, being not over patient in my nature.
- [160:05]
Narrator
John Canty moved off, muttering threats and curses. And was swallowed from sight in the crowd. Henda descended three flights of stairs to his room with his charge, after ordering a meal to be sent thither. It was a poor apartment with a shabby bed and some odds and ends of old furniture in it, and was vaguely lighted by a couple of sickly candles. The little king dragged himself to the bed and lay down upon it, almost exhausted with hunger and fatigue. He had been on his feet a good part of a day and a night, for it was now 2 or 3 o' clock in the morning, and had eaten nothing. Meantime he murmured drowsily, prithee, call me
- [160:51]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
when the table is spread, and sank
- [160:53]
Narrator
into a deep sleep. Immediately a smile twinkled in Hendon's eye, and he said to himself, by the
- [161:02]
Miles Hendon
mass, the little beggar takes to one's quarters and usurps one's bed with as natural and easy a grace as if he owned them with never a by your leave, or so pleaseth you, or anything of the sort. In his diseased ravings he called himself the Prince of Wales, and bravely doth he keep up the character. Poor little friendless rat. Doubtless his mind has been disordered with ill usage. Well, I will be his friend. I have saved him, and it draweth me strongly to him. Already I love the bold tongued little rascal. How soldier like he faced the smutty rabble and flung back his high defiance. And what a comely, sweet and gentle face he hath now that sleep hath conjured away its troubles and its griefs. I will teach him. I will cure his malady. Yea, I will be his elder brother and care for him and watch over him. And whosoever would shame him or do him hurt may order his shroud, for though I be burned for it, he shall need it.
- [162:10]
Narrator
He bent over the boy and contemplated him with kind and pitying interest, tapping the young cheek tenderly and smoothing back the tangled curls with his great brown hands. A slight shiver passed over the boy's form.
- [162:26]
Miles Hendon
Hendon muttered, see now how like a man it was to let him lie here uncovered and fill his body with deadly rheums. Now what shall I do? Twill wake him to take him up and put him within the bed. And he sorely needeth sleep.
- [162:44]
Narrator
He looked about for extra covering, but finding none, doffed his doublet and wrapped the lad in it.
- [162:51]
Miles Hendon
I am used to nipping air in scant apparel. Tis little. I shall mind the cold.
- [162:56]
Narrator
Then walked up and down the room to keep his blood in motion. Soliloquizing as before, his injured mind persuades
- [163:05]
Miles Hendon
him he is Prince of Wales. Twill be odd to have a Prince of Wales still with us, now that he that was the prince is prince no more but king. For this poor mind is set upon the one phantasy and will not reason out that now it should be cast by the prince and call itself the king. If my father liveth still after these seven years that I have heard not from home in my foreign dungeon, he will welcome the poor lad and give him generous shelter for my sake. So will my good elder brother Arthur, my other brother Hugh, but I will crack his crown and he interferethe fox hearted, ill conditioned animal. Yes, thither will we fare.
- [163:49]
Narrator
And straightway too a servant entered with a smoking meal, disposed it upon a small deal table, placed the chairs and took his departure, leaving such cheap lodgers as these to wait upon themselves. The door slammed after him and the noise woke the boy, who sprang to a sitting posture and shot a glad glance about him. Then a grieved look came into his face and he murmured to himself with
- [164:19]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
a deep sigh, alack, it was but a dream. Woe is me next.
- [164:26]
Narrator
He noticed Miles Hendon's doublet, glanced from that to Hended, comprehended the sacrifice that had been made for him, and said
- [164:35]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
gently, thou art grand. Me? Yes, thou art very good to me. Take it and put it on. I shall not need it more.
- [164:47]
Narrator
Then he got up and walked to the washstand in the corner and stood there waiting. Hendon said in a cheery voice, we'll
- [164:56]
Miles Hendon
have a right hearty sup and bite now, for everything is savoury and smoking hot, and that and thy nap together will make thee a little man again. Never fear.
- [165:07]
Narrator
The boy made no answer, but bent a steady look that was filled with grave surprise and also somewhat touched with impatience upon the tall knight of the sword. Hendon was puzzled and said, what's amiss, good sir?
- [165:24]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
I would wash me.
- [165:26]
Miles Hendon
Ah, is that all? Ask no permission of Miles Hendon. For aught thou cravest, make thyself perfectly free here, and welcome with all that are his belongings.
- [165:38]
Narrator
Still the boy stood and moved not more. He tapped the floor once or twice with his small impatient foot. Hendon was wholly perplexed.
- [165:49]
Miles Hendon
Said he, bless us.
- [165:51]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
What is it, Prezzy? Pour the water and make not so many words.
- [165:58]
Narrator
Handon, suppressing a hoarse laugh and saying to himself, by all the saints, but this is admirable, stepped briskly forward and did the small insolence bidding, then stood by in a sort of stupefaction until the command come. The towel woke him sharply up. He took up a towel from under the boy's nose and handed it to him without comment. He now proceeded to comfort his own face with a wash. And while he was at it, his adopted child seated himself at the table and prepared to fall to Hendon, despatched his ablutions with alacrity, then drew back the other chair and was about to place himself at table. And when the boy said indignantly, forbear
- [166:47]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
wouldst thou sit in the presence of the king?
- [166:51]
Narrator
This blow staggered Hinton to his foundations, he muttered to lo, the poor thing's
- [166:58]
Miles Hendon
madness is up with the time. It has changed with the great change that is come to the realm. And now in fancy, is he king. Good lack. I must humour the conceit too. Too, there is no other way. Faith, he would order me to the tower, else.
- [167:16]
Narrator
And pleased with this jest, he removed the chair from the table, took his stand behind the king, and proceeded to wait upon him in the courtliest way he was capable of. While the king ate, the rigor of his royal dignity relaxed a little, and with his growing contentment came a desire to talk.
- [167:37]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
He I think thou callest thyself Miles Hindon, if I heard thee right.
- [167:45]
Narrator
Yes, sire, miles replied, then observed to
- [167:50]
Miles Hendon
if I must humour the poor lad's madness, I must sire him, I must majesty him. I must not go by halves. I must stick at nothing that belongeth to the part I play, else shall I play it ill and work evil to this charitable and kindly cause.
- [168:07]
Narrator
The king warmed his heart with a second glass of wine and said, I would know thee.
- [168:13]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Tell me thy story. Thou hast a gallant, noble way. With thee art nobly born.
- [168:23]
Miles Hendon
We are the tale of the nobility. Good. Your majesty, my father is a baronet, one of the smaller lords by knight's service, Sir Richard Hendon of Hendon hall by Monk's Holm in Kent.
- [168:37]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
The name has escaped my memory. Go on, tell me the story.
- [168:44]
Miles Hendon
Tis not much, your majesty. Yet perchance it may beguile a short half hour for want of a better. My father, Sir Richard, is very rich and of a most generous nature.
- [168:57]
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- [170:31]
Narrator
The last thing you need is shopping.
- [170:32]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
That makes it harder.
- [170:34]
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- [170:35]
Miles Hendon
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- [170:38]
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- [170:41]
Miles Hendon
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- [170:42]
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John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
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- [170:51]
Narrator
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- [170:55]
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Wayfair every style, Every Home My mother
- [170:58]
Miles Hendon
died whilst I was yet a boy. I have two brothers, Arthur, my elder, with a soul like to his father's, and Hugh, younger than I. A mean spirit, covetous, treacherous, vicious, underhanded. A reptile. Such was he from the cradle. Such was he 10 years past when I last saw him, a ripe Rascal at 19, I being 20 then, and Arthur 22. There is none other of us but the Lady Edith, my cousin. She was 16 then. Beautiful, gentle, good, the daughter of an earl, the last of her race, heiress of a great fortune and a lapsed title. My father was her guardian. I loved her and she loved me. But she was betrothed to Arthur from the cradle, and Sir Richard would not suffer the contract to be broken. Arthur loved another maid and bade us be of good cheer and hold fast to the hope that delay and luck together would some day give success to our several causes. Hugh loved the Lady Edith's fortune, though in truth he said it was herself he loved. But then twas his way always to say the one thing and mean the other. But he lost his arts upon the girl. He could deceive my father, but none else. My father loved him best of us all, and trusted and believed him, for he was the youngest child, and others hated him, these qualities being in all ages sufficient to win a parent's dearest love. And he had a smooth, persuasive tongue, with an admirable gift of lying, and those bequalities which do mightily assist a blind affection to cousin itself. I was wild. In troth, I might go yet farther and say very wild, though twas a wildness of an innocent sort, since it hurt none but me, brought shame to none nor loss, nor had in it any taint of crime or baseness, or what might not beseem mine honourable degree. Yet did my brother Hugh turn these faults to good account. He seeing that our brother Arthur's health was but indifferent, and hoping the worst might work him profit, where I swept out of the path so. But twere a long tale, good my liege, and little worth the telling. Briefly, then, this brother did deftly magnify my faults and make them crimes, ending his base work with finding a silken ladder in mine apartments, conveyed thither by his own means, and did convince my father by this and suborned evidence of servants and other lying knaves, that I was minded to carry off Edith and marry with her in rank defiance of his will. Three years of banishment from home in England might make a soldier and a man of me, my father said, and teach me some degree of wisdom. I fought out my long probation in the continental wars, tasting sumptuously of hard knocks, privation, and adventure. But in my last battle I was taken captive, and during the seven years that have waxed and waned since then, a foreign dungeon hath harboured me. Through wit and courage I won to the free air at last, and fled hither straight, and am but just arrived, right poor in purse and raiment, and poorer still in knowledge of what these dull seven years have wrought at Hendon hall its people and belongings. So please you, sir, my meagre tale is told.
- [174:34]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Thou hast been shamefully,
- [174:38]
Narrator
said the little king with a flashing eye, but I
- [174:42]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
will roil thee by the cross. I will.
- [174:45]
Narrator
The king hath said it then, fired by the story of Myles wrongs, he loosed his tongue, and poured the history of his own recent misfortunes into the ears of his Astonished listener. When he had finished, Myles said to
- [175:02]
Miles Hendon
himself, lo, what an imagination he hath. Verily, this is no common mind else, crazed or sane, it could not weave so straight and gaudy a tale as this out of the airy nothings wherewith it had wrought this curious romant. Poor ruined little head. It shall not lack friend or shelter whilst I bide with the living. He shall never leave my side. He shall be my pet, my little comrade, and he shall be cured. Ay, made whole and sound. Then will he make himself a name, and proud shall I be to say, yes, he is mine. I took him a homeless little ragamuffin, but I saw what was in him, and I said his name would be heard some day. Behold, Observe him. Was I right?
- [175:55]
Narrator
The king spoke in a thoughtful, measured voice.
- [175:59]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Thou didst save me from injury and shame. Purchase my life, Enter my crown. Such service demandeth rich reward. Name thy desire, and it shall be within the compass of my royal power. It is thine.
- [176:17]
Narrator
This fantastic suggestion startled Hendon out of his reverie. He was about to thank the king and put the matter aside with saying he had only done his duty and desired no reward. But a wiser thought came into his head and he asked leave to be silent a few moments and consider the gracious offer. An idea which the king gravely approved. Remarking that it was best to be not too hasty with a thing of such great importance. Miles reflected during some moments, then said
- [176:52]
Miles Hendon
to yes, that is the thing to do. By any other means it were impossible to get at it. And certes, this hour's experience has taught me twould be most wearing and inconvenient to continue it as it is. Yes, I will propose it. Twas a happy accident that I did not throw the chance away.
- [177:13]
Narrator
Then he dropped upon one knee and
- [177:17]
Miles Hendon
said my poor service went not beyond the limit of a subject's simple duty, and therefore hath no merit. But since your majesty is pleased to hold it worthy some reward, I take heart of grace to make petition to this effect. Near 400 years ago, as your grace knoweth, there being ill blood twixt John king of England, and the king of France, it was decreed that two champions should fight together in the list and so settle the dispute. By what is called the arbitrament of God, these two kings and the Spanish king being assembled to witness and judge the conflict, the French champion appeared. But so redoubtable was he that our English knights refused to measure weapons with him. So the matter, which was a weighty one, was like to Go against the English monarch by default. Now in the Tower lay the Lord de Courcy, the mightiest arm in England, Stripped of his honours and possessions and wasting with long captivity, appeal was made to him. He gave assent and came forth arrayed for battle. But no sooner did the Frenchman glimpse his huge frame and hear his famous name, but he fled away, and the French king's cause was lost. King John restored de Courcy's titles and possessions and said, name thy wish and thou shalt have it, though it cost me half my kingdom. Whereat de Courcy, kneeling as I do now, made this, Then I ask my liege, that I and my successors may have and hold the privilege of remaining covered in the presence of the kings of England, England henceforth, while the throne shall last. The boon was granted, as your majesty knoweth, and there hath been no time these 400 years that that line has failed of an heir. And so, even unto this day, the head of that ancient house still weareth his hat or helm before the king's majesty without let or hindrance. And this none other may do. Invoking this precedent in aid of my prayer, I beseech the king to grant to me but this one grace and privilege to my more than sufficient reward and none other, to wit, that I and my heirs for ever may sit in the presence of the majesty of England.
- [179:46]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Roys, Sir Moyles, Hindon knight, said the
- [179:51]
Narrator
king gravely, giving the accolade with hind
- [179:54]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
and sword, rise and seat thyself. Thy petition is granted. Whilst England remains and the crown continues, the privilege shall not lapse.
- [180:07]
Narrator
His majesty walked apart musing, and Hendon dropped into a chair at table, observing
- [180:13]
Miles Hendon
to Twas a brave thought, and hath wrought me a mighty deliverance. My legs are grievously wearied, and I had not thought of that. I must have had to stand for weeks till my poor lad's wits were cured.
- [180:28]
Narrator
After a little he went and so
- [180:32]
Miles Hendon
I am become a knight of the kingdom of dreams and shadows. A most odd and strange position. Truly, for one so matter of fact as I. I will not laugh. No, God forbid. For this thing which is so substanceless to me is real to him, and to me also. In one way it is not a falsity, for it reflects with truth the sweet and generous spirit that is in him.
- [180:59]
Narrator
After a pause.
- [181:01]
Miles Hendon
Ah. What if he should call me by my fine title before folk? There'd be a merry contrast betwixt my glory and my raiment. But no matter, let him call me what he will, though it please him. I shall be content.
- [181:18]
Narrator
Chapter 12. Chapter 13 of the Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org the Prince and the Pauper Chapter 13 the Disappearance of the Prince A heavy drowsiness presently fell upon the two comrades. The king said, remove these rags, meaning his clothing. Hindon disappareled the boy without dissent or remarkable, tucked him up in bed, then glanced about the room, saying to himself,
- [182:12]
Miles Hendon
he hath taken my bed again as before. Marry, what shall I do?
- [182:19]
Narrator
The little king observed his perplexity and dissipated it with a word he said,
- [182:27]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
thou wilt sleep athwart the door and guard it.
- [182:33]
Narrator
In a moment more he was out of his troubles in a deep slumber.
- [182:40]
Miles Hendon
Dear heart, he should have been born
- [182:42]
Narrator
a king, muttered Hindon admiringly.
- [182:46]
Miles Hendon
He playeth a part to a marvel.
- [182:50]
Narrator
Then he stretched himself across the door on the floor, saying, I have lodged
- [182:57]
Miles Hendon
worse for seven years. Twould be but ill gratitude to him above to find fault with this.
- [183:03]
Narrator
He dropped asleep as the dawn appeared toward noon he rose, uncovered his unconscious ward a section at a time, and took his measure with a string. The king awoke just as he had completed his work, complained of the cold, and asked what he was doing.
- [183:24]
Miles Hendon
Tis done now, my liege, said Hendon. I have a bit of business outside, but will presently return. Sleep thou again. Thou needest it. Here, let me cover thy head also. Thou' LT be warm the sooner.
- [183:42]
Narrator
The king was back in dreamland before this speech was ended. Miles slipped softly out, and slipped as softly in again in the course of 30 or 40 minutes, with a complete second hand suit of boy's clothing, of cheap material and showing signs of wear, but tidy and suited to the season of the year, he seated himself and began to overhaul his purchase, mumbling to himself.
- [184:10]
Miles Hendon
A longer purse would have got a better sort. But when one has not the long purse, one must be content with what a short one may do. There was a woman in our town, in our town did well. He stirred. Methinks I must sing in a less thunderous key. Tis not good to mar his sleep with this journey before him, and he so wearied out. Poor chap, this garment is well enough. A stitch here and another there will set it aright. This other is better, albeit a stitch or two will not come amiss in it. Likewise, these be very good and sound, and will keep his small feet warm and dry. An odd new thing to him, Belike since he has doubtless been used to foot it bare. Winters and summers the same would thread were bread, seeing one getteth a year's sufficiency for a farthing. And such a brave big needle without cost for mere love. Now shall I have the demon's own time to thread it.
- [185:15]
Narrator
And so he had. He did, as men have always done and probably always will do to the end of time. Held the needle still and tried to thrust the thread through the eye, which is the opposite of a woman's way. Time and time again the thread missed the mark, going sometimes on one side of the needle, sometimes on the other, sometimes doubling up against the shaft. But he was patient, having been through these experiences before when he was soldiering. He succeeded at last and took up the garment that had lain waiting meantime across his lap, and began his work.
- [185:56]
Miles Hendon
The inn is paid, the breakfast that is to come included, and there is wherewithal left to buy a couple of donkeys and meet our little costs for the two or three days betwixt this and the plenty that awaits us at Hendon Hall. She loved her Ha. Oh, body of me. I have driven the needle under my nail. It matters little. Tis not a novelty. Tis not a convenience neither. We shall be merry here, little one. Never doubt it. Thy troubles will vanish there, and likewise thy sad distemper. She loved her husband dearly, but another man. Oh, these be noble.
- [186:36]
Narrator
Large ditches, holding the garment up and viewing it admiringly.
- [186:42]
Miles Hendon
They have a grandeur and a majesty that do cause these small stingy ones of the tailor man to look mightily paltry and plebeian. She loved her husband dearly, but another man he loved, she marry. Tis done. A goodly piece of work too, and wrought with expedition. Now will I wake him, apparel him, pour for him, feed him, and then will be. Hie us to the mart by the Tabard Inn in Southwark. And be pleased to rise. My liege, he answereth not. What, ho, my liege, of a truth must I profane his sacred person with a touch, sith his slumber is deaf to speech. What?
- [187:27]
Narrator
He threw back the covers. The boy was gone. He stared about him in speechless astonishment for a moment, noticed for the first time that his ward's ragged raiment was also missing. Then he began to rage and storm and shout for the innkeeper. At that moment, a servant entered with the breakfast.
- [187:49]
Miles Hendon
Explain, thou limb of Satan, or thy time has come.
- [187:53]
Narrator
Roared the man of war. And made so savage a spring toward the waiter that this latter could not find his tongue for the instant, for fright and surprise.
- [188:04]
Miles Hendon
Where is the boy?
- [188:07]
Narrator
In disjointed and trembling syllables, the man gave the information desired.
- [188:14]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
You are hardly gone from the place, you, Worship. When a youth came running and said it was your worship's will that the boy come to you, straight at the bridge end on the Southwark side, I brought him hither, and when he woke, the lad gave his message. The lad did grumble so little for being disturbed so early, as he called it, but straightway, trussed on his rags, and went with the youth, only saying it had been better mannered that your worship came yourself not send a stranger.
- [188:37]
Miles Hendon
And so and so thou' Rt a fool, a fool and easily cozened. Hang all thy breed. Yet mayhap no hurt is done, possibly no harm is meant. The boy. I will go and fetch him. Make the table ready. Stay. The coverings of the bed were disposed as if one lay beneath them. Happened that by accident?
- [189:02]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
I know not. Good your Worship, I saw the youth meddle with them. He that came for the boy.
- [189:08]
Miles Hendon
Thousand deaths was done to deceive me. Tis plain. Twas done to gain time. Hark ye. Was that youth alone?
- [189:19]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
All alone, you, Worship.
- [189:22]
Miles Hendon
Art sure, sure, you, Worship. Collect thy scattered wits. Bethink thee, take time, man.
- [189:32]
Narrator
After a moment's thought, the servant said,
- [189:36]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
when he came, none came with him. But now I remember me that as the two stepped into the throng of the bridge, a rough young looking lad plunged out from some near place just as he was joining them.
- [189:47]
Miles Hendon
What then? Out with it.
- [189:49]
Narrator
Thundered the impatient Hendon, interrupting just then.
- [189:54]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
The crowd lapped them up and closed them in. And I saw no more being called by my master, who was in a rage, because a joint that the scrivener had ordered was forgot. Though I take all the saints to witness that to blame me for the miscarriage were like holding the unborn babe to judgment for sins.
- [190:09]
Miles Hendon
Come out of my sight, idiot. Thy prating drives me mad. Hold. Whither art flying? Canst not bide still an instant? Went they towards Southwark.
- [190:24]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Even so, you, Worship, for, as I said before, as to that detestable joint, the babe unborn is no whit more
- [190:30]
Miles Hendon
blameless than art here yet and prating still vanish, lest I throttle thee.
- [190:37]
Narrator
The servitor vanished. Hendon followed after him, passed him, and plunged down the stairs, two steps at a stride, muttering, tis that scurvy villain
- [190:48]
Miles Hendon
that claimed he was his son. I have lost thee, my poor little mad master. It is a bitter thought. And I had come to love thee so. No by book and bell. Not lost, not lost, for I will ransack the land till I find thee again. Poor child. Yonder is his breakfast and mine. But I have no hunger now, so let the rats have it. Speed, speed, that is the word.
- [191:18]
Narrator
As he wormed his swift way through the noisy multitudes upon the bridge, he several times said to himself, clinging to the thought as if it were a particularly place pleasing one, he grumbled, but he went.
- [191:31]
Miles Hendon
He went, yes, because he thought Miles Hendon asked it. Sweet lad, he would ne' er have done it for another. I know it well.
- [191:41]
Narrator
End of chapter 13. Chapter XIV of the Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org the Prince and the Pauper Chapter 14 Le Wai Mort Vive Loire Toward daylight of the same morning, Tom Canty stirred out of a heavy sigh and opened his eyes in the dark. He lay silent a few moments, trying to analyze his confused thoughts and impressions and get some sort of meaning out of them. Then suddenly he burst out in a rapturous but guarded I see it all,
- [192:40]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
I see it all. Now, God be thanked, I am indeed awake at last. Come, joy, vanish sorrow. Ho, Nan, bet, Kick off your straw and hie ye hither to my side, till I do pour into your unbelieving ears the wildest madcap dream that ever the spirits of night did conjure up to astonish the soul of man withal. Ho, Nan, I say, Bet.
- [193:11]
Narrator
A dim form appeared at his side,
- [193:14]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
and a voice said, wilt deign to deliver thy commands?
- [193:19]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
Commands? O, woe is me. I know thy voice. Speak thou. Who am I?
- [193:29]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Thou. In sooth yesternight, wert thou the Prince of Wales. To day art thou my most gracious
- [193:35]
Narrator
liege, Edward, King of England. Tom buried his head among his pillows, murmuring, alack, it was no dream.
- [193:47]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
Go to thy rest, sweet sir, leave me to my sorrows.
- [193:52]
Narrator
Tom slept again, and after a time he had this pleasant dream. He thought it was summer, and he was playing all alone in the fair meadow called Goodman's Fields, when a dwarf only a foot high, with long red whiskers and a humped back, appeared to him suddenly and said, dig by that stump. He did so, and found 12 bright new pennies. Wonderful riches. Yet this was not the best of it, for the dwarf said, I know thee.
- [194:27]
Miles Hendon
Thou art a good lad and a deserving thy distresses shall end, for the day of thy reward is come, dig here Every seventh day, and thou shalt find always the same treasure. 12 bright new pennies.
- [194:46]
Narrator
Tell none.
- [194:47]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
Keep the secret.
- [194:50]
Narrator
Then the dwarf vanished, and Tom flew to awful court with his prize, saying
- [194:56]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
to himself, every night I will give my father a penny. He will think I begged it. It will glad his heart, and I shall no more be beaten. One penny every week. The good priest that teacheth me shall have Mother, Nan and Bet. The other four we be done with hunger and rags, now done with fears and frets and savage usage.
- [195:22]
Narrator
In his dream he reached his sordid home, all out of breath, but with eyes dancing with grateful enthusiasm, cast four of his pennies into his mother's lap and cried out, they are for thee,
- [195:36]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
all of them, every one for thee and Nan and Bet, and honestly come by not begged nor stolen.
- [195:45]
Narrator
The happy and astonished mother strained him to her breast and exclaimed, it waxeth late. May it please your majesty to rise.
- [195:57]
Miles Hendon
Ah.
- [195:58]
Narrator
That was not the answer he was expecting. The dream had snapped asunder. He was awake. He opened his eyes. The richly clad First Lord of the bedchamber was kneeling by his couch. The gladness of the lying dream faded away. The poor boy recognized that he was still a captive and a king. The room was filled with great courtiers clothed in purple mantles, the mourning color, and with noble servants of the monarch. Tom sat up in bed and gazed out from the heavy silken curtains upon this fine company. The weighty business of dressing began, and one courtier after another knelt and paid his court and offered to the little king his condolences upon his heavy loss. Whilst the dressing proceeded. In the beginning, a shirt was taken up by the Chief Equerry in waiting, who passed it to the First Lord of the Buckhounds, who passed it to the Second Gentleman of the Bedchamber, who passed it to the Head Ranger of Windsor Forest, who passed it to the third Groom of the Stole, who passed it to the Chancellor Royal of the Duchy of Lancaster, who passed it to the Master of the Wardrobe, who passed it to Norroy, King at Arms, who passed it to the Constable of the Tower, who passed it to the Chief Steward of the Household, who passed it to the hereditary Grand Diaperer, who passed it to the Lord High Admiral of England, who passed it to the Archbishop of Canterbury, who passed it to the First Lord of the Bedchamber, who took what was left of it and put it on Tom. Poor little wondering chap. It reminded him of passing buckets at a fire. Each garment in its turn had to go through this slow and solemn process. Consequently, Tom grew very weary of the ceremony, so weary that he felt an almost gushing gratefulness when he at last saw his long silken hose begin the journey down the line and knew that the end of the matter was drawing near. But he exulted too soon. The First Lord of the Bedchamber received the hose and was about to encase Tom's legs in them when a sudden flush invaded his face and he hurriedly hustled the things back into the hands of the Archbishop of Canterbury with an astounded look and a whispered, see, my lord? Pointing to a something connected with the hose. The Archbishop paled, then flushed and passed the hose to the Lord High Admiral.
- [198:41]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
See, my lord.
- [198:43]
Narrator
The Admiral passed the hose to the hereditary Grand Diaperer and had hardly breath enough in his body to ejaculate.
- [198:52]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
See, my lord.
- [198:54]
Narrator
The hose drifted backward along the line to the Chief Steward of the Household, the Constable of the Tower, Norroy, King at Arms, the Master of the Wardrobe, the Chancellor Royal of the Duchy of Lancaster, the Third Groom of the Stole, the Head Ranger of Windsor Forest, the Second Gentleman of the Bedchamber, the First Lord of the Buckhounds, accompanied always with that amazed and frightened see, see. Till they finally reached the hands of the Chief Equerry in waiting, who gazed a moment with a pallid face upon what had caused all this dismay. Then hoarsely, body of my life, a
- [199:37]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
tag gone from a truss point to the Tower with the Head Keeper of
- [199:42]
Narrator
the King's Hose, after which he leaned upon the shoulder of the First Lord of the Buckhounds to regather his vanished strength, whilst fresh hoes without any damaged strings to them were brought. But all things must have an end. And so in time, Tom Canty was in a condition to get out of bed. The proper official poured water. The proper official engineered the washing. The proper official stood by with a towel, and by and by. Tom got safely through the purifying stage and was ready for the services of the Hairdresser Royal when he at length emerged from this master's hands. He was a gracious figure and as pretty as a girl in his mantle and trunks of purple satin and purple plumed cap. He now moved in state toward his breakfast room through the midst of the courtly assemblage. And as he passed, these fell back, leaving his way free and dropped upon their knees. After breakfast he was conducted with regal ceremony, attended by his great officers and his guard of 50 gentlemen pensioners bearing gilt battle axes to the throne room, where he proceeded to transact business of state. His uncle, Lord Hertford, took his stand by the throne to assist the royal mind with wise counsel. The body of illustrious men named by the late King as his executors, appeared to ask Tom's approval of certain acts of theirs.
- [201:19]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
I'm here on a job site with
- [201:20]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Tim, who owns his own electrical contracting business.
- [201:23]
Narrator
Three employees and two work trucks.
- [201:24]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Tim traded up to Geico Commercial Auto Insurance. We're positively here where he needs us most.
- [201:30]
Narrator
They sure are.
- [201:31]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
With step by step help on all his insurance needs. All for shockingly low rates.
- [201:36]
Narrator
Shockingly low, huh?
- [201:37]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Just a little bit of electrician humour.
- [201:39]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
Do you get it?
- [201:40]
Narrator
I got it. You know, feels like we have a real connection. All right, I'll stop, get a commercial
- [201:45]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
auto insurance quote today@geico.com and see how
- [201:47]
Advertisement / Commercial Voice
much you could save.
- [201:48]
King Henry VIII
It feels good.
- [201:48]
Narrator
To geico.
- [201:49]
Advertisement / Commercial Voice
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- [202:49]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Meet Keith loving dad board game champ bus driving pro.
- [202:53]
Narrator
I drive 65,000 miles in my bus each year.
- [202:56]
Miles Hendon
If people knew what I know, lives could be saved.
- [202:59]
Advertisement / Commercial Voice
Like how there are some things I simply can't see on my route.
- [203:02]
Narrator
The other day a car tried to sneak past me and ends up right in my blind spot.
- [203:06]
Advertisement / Commercial Voice
I turn slowly so accident avoided.
- [203:09]
Narrator
But no car should be in the blind spot for 40,000 pound bus. It's our roads, it's our safety. Visit www.sharetheroadsafely.gov rather a form and yet not wholly a form since there was no protector as yet. The Archbishop of Canterbury made report of the decree of the Council of Executors concerning the obsequies of his Late Most Illustrious Majesty, and finished by reading the signatures of the executors, to wit, the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Lord Chancellor of England, William, Lord St John. John Lord Russell, Edward, Earl of Hertford, John, Viscount Lyle Cuthbert, Bishop of Durham. Tom was not listening. An earlier clause of the document was puzzling him. At this point he turned and whispered to Lord Hertford, what day did he
- [204:06]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
say the burial hath been appointed?
- [204:07]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
For the 16th of the coming month, my liege.
- [204:13]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
Tis a strange folly. Will he keep?
- [204:18]
Narrator
Poor chap, he was still new to the customs of royalty. He was used to seeing the forlorn dead of Offal Court hustled out of the way with a very different sort of expedition. However, the Lord Hertford set his mind at rest with a word or two. A Secretary of State presented an order of the Council appointing the morrow at 11 for the reception of the fort foreign ambassadors, and desired the King's assent. Tom turned an inquiring look toward Hertford,
- [204:50]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
who whispered, you, Majesty will signify consent. They come to testify their Royal Master's sense of the heavy calamity which has visited your Grace and the Realm of England.
- [205:03]
Narrator
Tom did as he was bidden. Another secretary began to read a preamble concerning the expenses of the late King's household, which had amounted to 28,000 pounds during the preceding six months, a sum so vast that it made Tom Canty gasp. He gasped again when the fact appeared that £20,000 of this money was still owing and unpaid. And once more, when it appeared that the King's coffers were about empty, and his twelve hundred servants much embarrassed for lack of the wages due them, Tom spoke out with lively apprehension.
- [205:41]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
We be going to the dogs. Tis plain. Tis meet and necessary that we take a smaller house and set the servants at large. Sith they be of no value but to make delay and trouble One with offices that harass the spirit and shame the soul? They miss becoming any but a doll that hath nor brains nor hands to help itself. I remember me of a small house that standeth over against the fish market by Billingsgate.
- [206:13]
Narrator
A sharp pressure upon Tom's arm stopped his foolish tongue and sent a blush to his face. But no countenance there betrayed any sign that this strange speech had been remarked or given concern. A secretary made report that forasmuch, as the late King had provided in his will, for conferring the ducal degree upon the Earl, Earl of Hertford and raising his brother Sir Thomas Seymour to the peerage, and likewise Hertford's son to an earldom, together with similar aggrandizements to other great servants of the Crown. The Council had resolved to hold a sitting on the 16th of February for the delivering and confirming of these honors. And that meantime, the late King not having granted in writing estates suitable to the support of these dignities, the Council, knowing his private wishes in that regard, had thought proper to grant to Seymour 500 pound lands and to Hertford's son 800 pound lands and 300 pound of the next Bishop's lands which should fall vacant. His present Majesty being willing. Tom was about to blurt out something about the propriety of paying the late King's debts first, before squandering all this money. But a timely touch upon his arm from the thoughtful Hertford saved him this indiscretion. Wherefore he gave the Royal assent without spoken comment, but with much inward discomfort. While he sat reflecting a moment over the ease with which he was doing strange and glittering miracles, a happy thought shot into his mind. Why not make his mother Duchess of Offal Court and give her an estate? But a sorrowful thought swept it instantly away. He was only a king in name. These grave veterans and great nobles were his masters. To them, his mother was only the creature of a diseased mind. They would simply listen to his project with unbelieving ears, then send for the doctor. The dull work went tediously on. Petitions were read and proclamations, patents, and all manner of wordy, repetitious and wearisome papers relating to the public business. And at last Tom sighed pathetically and murmured to
- [208:43]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
in what have I offended that the good God should take me away from the fields and the free air and the sunshine, to shut me up here and make me a king and afflict me so?
- [208:58]
Narrator
Then his poor muddled head nodded awhile and presently drooped to his shoulder, and the business of the empire came to a standstill. For want of that august factor, the ratifying power, silence ensued round the slumbering child, and the sages of the realm ceased from their deliberations. During the forenoon, Tom had an enjoyable hour, by permission of his keepers, Hertford and St John, with the Lady Elizabeth and the little Lady Jane Grey, though the spirits of the princesses were rather subdued by the mighty stroke that had fallen upon the Royal house, and at the end of the visit, his elder sister. Afterwards, the Bloody Mary of history, chilled him with a solemn interview, which had but one merit in his eyes, its brevity. He had a Few moments to himself. And then a slim lad of about 12 years of age was admitted to his presence. Whose clothing, except his snowy ruff and the laces about his wrists, was of black doublet hose and all he bore no badge of mourning but a knot of purple ribbon on his shoulder. He advanced hesitatingly with head bowed and bare. And dropped upon one knee in front of Tom. Tom sat still and contemplated him soberly a moment. Then he ruislatt.
- [210:28]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
Who art thou? What wouldst have?
- [210:32]
Narrator
The boy rose and stood at graceful ease. But with an aspect of concern in his face. He of a surety.
- [210:41]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Thou must remember me, my lord. I am thy whipping boy.
- [210:46]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
My whipping boy?
- [210:49]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
The same, your grace. I am Humphrey. Humphrey Marlowe.
- [210:54]
Narrator
Tom perceived that here was some one whom his keepers ought to have posted him about. The situation was delicate. What should he do? Pretend he knew this lad and then betray by his every utterance that he had never heard of him before? No, that would not do. An idea came to his relief. Accidents like this might be likely to happen with some frequency, now that business urgencies would often call Hertford and St. John from his side, they being members of the Council of Executors. Therefore perhaps it would be well to strike out a plan himself to meet the requirements of such emergencies. Yes, that would be a wise course. He would practise on this boy and see what sort of success he might achieve. So he stroked his brow perplexedly a moment or two. And presently.
- [211:50]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
Now I seem to remember thee somewhat. But my wit is clogged and dim with suffering.
- [211:57]
Narrator
Alack, my poor master ejaculated the whipping boy with feeling adding to, in truth.
- [212:05]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Tis as they said. His mind is gone. Alas, poor soul, but misfortune catch me. How am I forgetting? They said. One must not seem to observe that. What is wrong with him?
- [212:17]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
Tis strange how my memory doth wanton with me these days, said Tom. But mind it not, I mend apace. A little clue doth often serve to bring me back again the things and names which had escaped me. And not they only, forsooth. But even such as I ne' er heard before, as this lad shall see. Give thy business speech.
- [212:46]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Tis matter of small weight, my liege, yet will I touch upon it. An it please your grace, two days gone by when your majesty faltered thrice in your Greek in the morning lessons. Dost remember it?
- [212:59]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
Yes, methinks I do. It is not much of a lie. And I had meddled with the Greek at all. I had not faltered Simply thrice, but 40 times. Yes, I do recall it now. Go on.
- [213:15]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
The master, being wroth with what he termed such slovenly and doltish work, did promise that he would soundly whip me for.
- [213:22]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
And whip thee?
- [213:24]
Narrator
Said Tom, astonished out of his presence of mind.
- [213:29]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
Why should he whip thee? For faults of mine?
- [213:33]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Ah, Your grace forgetteth again. He always scourgeth me when thou dost fail in thy lessons.
- [213:39]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
True, true, I had forgot. Thou teachest me in private then if I fail, he argues that thy office was lamely done.
- [213:49]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
O my liege, what words are these? I, the humblest of thy servants, presume to teach thee.
- [213:56]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
Then where is thy blame? What riddle is this? Am I in truth gone mad, or is it thou? Explain. Speak out.
- [214:07]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
But, good your majesty, there's nought that need of none may visit the sacred person of the Prince of Wales with blows. Wherefore, when he faulteth, tis I that take them and mate. It isn't right, for that is mine office in my livelihood.
- [214:23]
Narrator
Tom stared at the tranquil boy, observing
- [214:26]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
to himself, lo, it is a wonderful thing, a most strange and curious trade. I marvel they have not hired a boy to take my combings and my dressings for me. Would heaven they would, an they will do this thing. I will take my lashings in mine own person, giving God thanks for the change.
- [214:50]
Narrator
Then he said aloud, and hast thou
- [214:53]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
been beaten, poor friend, according to the promise?
- [214:58]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
No, good your majesty, my punishment was appointed for this day, and peradventure it may be annulled, as unbefitting the season of mourning that has come upon us. I know not, and so have made bold to come hither and remind your grace about your gracious promise to intercede
- [215:14]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
on my behalf with the master to save thee thy whipping.
- [215:20]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Ah, thou dost remember
- [215:23]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
my memory. Mendeth, thou seest. Set thy mind at ease. Thy back shall go unscathed. I will see to it.
- [215:33]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Oh, thanks, my good lord, Cried the
- [215:36]
Narrator
boy, dropping upon his knee again.
- [215:40]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Mayhap I ventured foreigner.
- [215:42]
Narrator
And yet, seeing Master Humphrey hesitate, Tom encouraged him to go on, saying he
- [215:49]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
was in the granting mood.
- [215:52]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Then will I speak it out, for it lieth near my heart. Sith thou art no more Prince of Wales, but king. Thou canst order matters as thou wilt, with none to say thee nay. Wherefore it is not in reason that thou wilt longer vex thyself with dreary studies, but will burn thy books and turn thy mind to things less irksome. Then am I ruined, and my orphan sisters with me ruined. Prithee, how my back is my bread. O my gracious. If it go idle, I starve. An thou cease from study, mine office is gone. Thou' LT need no whipping boy. Do not turn me away.
- [216:33]
Narrator
Tom was touched with this pathetic distress. He said, with a right royal burst
- [216:39]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
of generosity, discomfort thyself no further, lad. Thine office shall be permanent in thee and thy line for ever.
- [216:48]
Narrator
Then he struck the boy a light blow on the shoulder, with the flat of his sword exchanged.
- [216:54]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
Rise, Humphrey Marlowe, hereditary grand whipping boy to the Royal House of England. Banish sorrow. I will betake me to my books again and study so ill that they must in justice treble thy wage. So mightily shall the business of thine office be augmented.
- [217:15]
Narrator
The grateful Humphrey responded fervidly.
- [217:18]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Thanks, O most noble master. This princely lavishness doth far surpass my most distempered dreams of fortune. Now shall I be happy all my days, and all the house of Marlowe after me.
- [217:31]
Narrator
Tom had wit enough to perceive that here was a lad who could be useful to him. He encouraged Humphrey to talk, and he was nothing loath. He was delighted to believe that he was helping in Tom's cousin cure. For always. As soon as he had finished calling back to Tom's diseased mind the various particulars of his experiences and adventures in the Royal School Room and elsewhere about the palace, he noticed that Tom was then able to recall the circumstances quite clearly. At the end of an hour, Tom found himself well freighted with very valuable information concerning personages and matters pertaining to the court. So he resolved to draw instruction from this source daily, and to this end he would give order to admit Humphrey to the Royal Closet whenever he might come, provided the majesty of England was not engaged with other people. Humphrey had hardly been dismissed when my Lord Hertford arrived with more trouble for Tom. He said that the Lords of the Council, fearing that some overwrought report of the King's damaged health might have leaked out and got abroad, they deemed it wise and best that his Majesty should begin to dine in public. After a day or two, his wholesome complexion and vigorous step, assisted by a carefully guarded repose of manner and ease and grace of demeanour, would more surely quiet the general pulse in case any evil rumours had gone about, than any other scheme that could be devised. Then the Earl proceeded very delicately to instruct Tom as to the observances proper to the stately occasion, under the rather thin disguise of reminding him concerning things already known to him. But to his vast gratification, it turned out that Tom needed very little help in this line. He had been making use of Humphrey in that direction, for Humphrey had mentioned that within a few days he was to begin to dine in public. Having gathered it from the swift winged gossip of the court, Tom kept these facts to himself. However, seeing the royal memory so improved, the Earl ventured to apply a few tests to it in an apparently casual way, to find out how far its amendment had progressed. The results were happy here and there, in spots, spots where Humphrey's tracks remained. And on the whole my lord was greatly pleased and encouraged. So encouraged was he indeed, that he spoke up and said in a quite
- [220:18]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
hopeful now I am persuaded that if your majesty will but tax your memory yet a little further, it will resolve the puzzle of the Great Seal, the loss which was of moment yesterday, although of none today, since its term of service ended with our late Lord's life. May it please your grace to make the trial.
- [220:41]
Narrator
Tom was at sea. A Great Seal was something which he was totally unacquainted with. After a moment's hesitation, he looked up innocently and asked, what was it like, my lord? The Earl started, almost imperceptibly, muttering to
- [220:59]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
himself, alack, his wits have flown again. Twas ill wisdom to lead him on to strain them.
- [221:07]
Narrator
Then he deftly turned the talk to other matters, with the purpose of sweeping the unlucky Seal out of Tom's thoughts, a purpose which easily succeeded. End of chapter 14. Chapter 15 of the Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org the Prince and the Pauper Chapter 15 Tom as King the next day the foreign ambassadors came with their gorgeous trains, and Tom, throned in awful state, received them. The splendors of the scene delighted his eye and fired his imagination at first, but the audience was long and dreary, and so were most of the addresses. Wherefore what began as a pleasure grew into weariness and homesickness. By and by, Tom said the words which Hertford put into his mouth from time to time, and tried hard to acquit himself satisfactorily, but he was too new to such things, and too ill at ease to accomplish more than a tolerable success. He looked sufficiently like a king, but he was ill able to feel like one. He was cordially glad when the ceremony was ended. The larger part of his day was wasted, as he termed it, in his own mind, in labors pertaining to his royal office. Even the two hours devoted to certain princely pastimes and recreations were rather a burden to him than otherwise they were so fettered by restrictions and ceremonious observances. However, he had a private hour with his whipping boy, which he counted clear gain, since he got both entertainment and needful information out of it. The third day of Tom Canty's kingship came and went, much as the others had done, but there was a lifting of his cloud. In one way he felt less uncomfortable than at first. First he was getting a little used to his circumstances and surroundings, his chains still galled, but not all the time. He found that the presence and homage of the great afflicted and embarrassed him less and less sharply with every hour that drifted over his head. But for one single dread, he could have seen the fourth day approach without serious distress. The dining in public it was to begin that day. There were greater matters in the programme, for on that day he would have to preside at a council which would take his views and commands concerning the policy to be pursued toward various foreign nations scattered far and near over the great globe. On that day, too, Hertford would be formally chosen to the grand office of Lord Protector. Other things of note were appointed for that fourth day also, but to Tom they were all insignificant compared with the ordeal of dining all by himself, with a multitude of curious eyes fastened upon him, and a multitude of mouths whispering comments upon his performance and upon his mistakes, if he should be so unlucky as to make any. Still nothing could stop that fourth day. And so it came. It found poor Tom low spirited and absent minded, and this mood continued he could not shake it off. The ordinary duties of the morning dragged upon his hands and wearied him. Once more he felt the sense of captivity heavy upon him. Late in the forenoon he was in a large audience chamber, conversing with the Earl of Hertford, and dully awaiting the striking of the hour about appointed for a visit of ceremony from a considerable number of great officials and courtiers. After a little while, Tom, who had wandered to a window and become interested in the life and movement of the great highway beyond the palace gates, and not idly interested, but longing with all his heart to take part in person in its stir and freedom, saw the van of a hooting and shouting mob of disorders, orderly men, women and children of the lowest and poorest degree, approaching from up the road.
- [225:51]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
I would I knew what tis about.
- [225:54]
Narrator
He exclaimed with all a boy's curiosity. In such happenings. Thou art the King solemnly, responded the earl with a reverence.
- [226:05]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Have I your grace's leave to act?
- [226:09]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
Oh, blithely, yes. Oh, gladly, yes.
- [226:13]
Narrator
Exclaimed Tom excitedly, adding to himself with a lively sense of satisfaction.
- [226:18]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
In truth, being a king is not all dreariness. It hath its compensations and conveniences.
- [226:26]
Narrator
The earl called a page and sent him to the captain of the guard
- [226:30]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
with the order, let the mob be halted. An inquiry made concerning the occasion of its movement by the king's command.
- [226:39]
Narrator
A few seconds later, a long rank of the royal guards, cased in flashing steel, filed out at the gates and formed across the highway in front of the multitude. A messenger returned to report that the crowd were following a man, a woman, and a young girl to execution for crimes committed against the peace and dignity of the realm. Death and a violent death for these poor unfortunates. The thought wrung Tom's heartstrings. The spirit of compassion took control of him to the exclusion of all other considerations. He never thought of the offended laws, or of the grief or loss which these three criminals had inflicted upon their victims. He could think of nothing but the scaffold and the grisly fate hanging over the head heads of the condemned. His concern made him even forget for the moment that he was but the false shadow of a king, not the substance. And before he knew it, he had blurted out the command, bring them here. Then he blushed scarlet, and a sort of apology sprung to his lips. But observing that his order had wrought no sort of surprise in the earl or the waiting page, he suppressed the words he was about to utter. The page, in the most matter of course way, made a profound obeisance and retired backwards out of the room to deliver the command. Tom experienced a glow of pride and a renewed sense of the compensating advantages of the kingly office. He said to truly, it is like
- [228:16]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
what I used to feel when I read the old priests tales, and did imagine mine own self a prince, giving law and command to all, saying, do this, do that, whilst none durst offer let or hinderance to my will.
- [228:32]
Narrator
Now the doors swung open. One high sounding title after another was announced. The personages owning them followed, and the place was quickly half filled with noble folk and finery. But Tom was hardly conscious of the presence of these people, so wrought up was he, and so intensely absorbed in that other and more interesting matter. He seated himself absently in his chair of state and turned his eyes upon the door with manifestations of impatient expectancy, seeing which the company forbore to trouble him, and fell to chatting A mixture of public business and court gossip, one with another. In a little while the measured tread of military men was heard approaching and the culprits entered the presence in charge of an under sheriff and escorted by a detail of the king's guard. The civil officer knelt before Tom, then stood aside. The three doomed persons knelt also and remained so. The guard took position behind Tom's chair. Tom scanned the prisoners curiously. Something about the dress or appearance of the man had stirred a vague memory in him.
- [229:52]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
Methinks I have seen this man ere now, but the when or the wear fail me.
- [229:59]
Narrator
Such was Tom's thought just then. The man glanced quickly up and and quickly dropped his face again, not being able to endure the awful port of sovereignty. But the one full glimpse of the face which Tom got was sufficient. He said to himself, now is the matter clear.
- [230:20]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
This is the stranger that plucked Giles's wit out of the Thames and saved his life that windy, bitter first day of the new year. A brave good deed. Pity he hath been doing baser ones and got himself in this sad case. I have not forgot the day, neither the hour by reason, that an hour after, upon the stroke of 11, I did get a hiding by the hand of Gammercante, which was of so goodly and admir'd severity that all that went before or follow'd after it were but fondlings and caresses by comparison.
- [230:59]
Narrator
Tom now ordered that the woman and the girl be removed from the presence for a little time, then addressed himself to the under sheriff.
- [231:08]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
Good sir, what is this man's offence?
- [231:12]
Narrator
The officer knelt and answered, so please
- [231:16]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
your majesty, he hath taken the life of a subject by poison.
- [231:21]
Narrator
Tom's compassion for the prisoner, and admiration of him as the daring rescuer of a drowning boy, experienced a most damaging shock.
- [231:31]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
The thing was proven upon him.
- [231:33]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
He asked most clearly, sire.
- [231:38]
Narrator
Tom sighed and said, take him away.
- [231:43]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
He hath earned his death. Tis a pity, for he was a brave heart. I mean, he hath the look of it.
- [231:52]
Narrator
The prisoner clasped his hands together with sudden energy and wrung them despairingly, at the same time appealing imploringly to the king in broken and terrified.
- [232:05]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
O my lord king, an thou canst pity the lost, have pity upon me, I am innocent. Neither hath that wherewith I am charged been more than but lamely pray. Yet I speak not of that. The judgment is gone forth against me, and may not suffer alteration. Yet in mine extremity I beg a boon, for my doom is more than I can bear. A grace, a grace, my lord. The King, in thy royal compassion, grant my prayer, Give commandment that I be hanged.
- [232:35]
Narrator
Tom was amazed. This was not the outcome he had looked for odds.
- [232:41]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
My life. A strange boon, was it not the fate intended thee?
- [232:47]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
O good my liege, not so. It is ordered that I be boiled alive.
- [232:53]
Narrator
The hideous surprise of these words almost made Tom spring from his chair. As soon as he could recover his wits, he cried, have thy wish, poor soul.
- [233:04]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
An thou had poisoned a hundred men. Thou shouldst not suffer so miserable a death.
- [233:11]
Narrator
The prisoner bowed his face to the ground and burst into passionate expressions of gratitude, ending with if ever thou shouldst
- [233:20]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
know misfortune, which God forfend, may thy goodness to me this day be remembered and requited.
- [233:28]
Narrator
Tom turned to the Earl of Hertford
- [233:30]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
and said, my Lord, is it believable that there was warrant for this man's ferocious
- [233:37]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
it is the law, your grace. For poisoners in Germany, coiners be boiled to death in oil, not cast in of a sudden, but by a rope let down to the oil by degrees and slowly.
- [233:51]
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Narrator
are built to last.
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- [236:06]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
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- [236:38]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Burst the feet, then the legs, then.
- [236:42]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
O prithee, no more, my lord, I cannot bear it.
- [236:45]
Narrator
Cried Tom, covering his eyes with his hands to shut out the picture.
- [236:51]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
I beseech your good lordship that order be taken to change this law. O, let no more poor creatures be visited with its tortures.
- [237:01]
Narrator
The earl's face showed profound gratification, for he was a man of merciful and generous impulses, a thing not very common with his class. In that fierce age.
- [237:13]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
He said, these your grace's noble words have sealed its doom. History will remember it to the honour of your royal house.
- [237:23]
Narrator
The under sheriff was about to remove his prisoner. Tom gave him a sign to wait.
- [237:29]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
Then he good sir, I would look into this matter further. The man has said his deed was but lamely proved. Tell me what thou knowest.
- [237:40]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
If the king's grace please. It did appear upon the trial that this man entered into a house in the hamlet of Islington, where One lay sick. Three witnesses say it was at 10 of the clock in the morning, and two say it was some minutes later, the sick man, being alone at the time and sleeping. And presently the man came forth again and went his way. The sick man is died within the hour, being torn with spasms and retchings.
- [238:03]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
Did any see the poison given? Was poison found.
- [238:09]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
Marry no My liege, then how doth
- [238:13]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
one know there was poison given at all?
- [238:16]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
Please your majesty. The doctors testified that none die with such symptoms but by poison.
- [238:23]
Narrator
Weighty evidence this in that simple age Tom recognized its formidable nature.
- [238:30]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
And the doctor knoweth his trade. Belike they were right. The matter hath an ill look for this poor man.
- [238:39]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
Yet was not this all, your majesty? There is more and worse. Many testify to the witch since gone from the village. None knew whither did foretell and speak it privately in the ears that the sick man would die by poison, and more that a stranger would give it. A stranger with brown hair, enclosed in a worn and common garb. And surely this prisoner doth answer woundily to the bill. Please your majesty, to give the circumstance that solemn weight which is its due. Seeing it was foretold, this was an
- [239:07]
Narrator
argument of tremendous force. In that superstitious day, Tom felt that the thing was settled. If evidence was worth anything, this poor fellow's guilt was proved. Still he offered the prisoner a chance,
- [239:21]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
saying, if thou canst say aught in thy behalf, speak.
- [239:26]
Narrator
Naught that will avail my king. I am innocent. Yet cannot I make it appear I
- [239:31]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
have no friends else might I show that I was not in Islington that day. So also might I show that at
- [239:38]
Narrator
that hour they name I was above
- [239:39]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
a league away, seeing I was at Wapping Old stairs.
- [239:43]
Narrator
Yea, more, my king.
- [239:44]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
For I could show that whilst they say I was taking life, I was saving it. A drowning boy.
- [239:51]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
Peace, sheriff, name the day the deed
- [239:54]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
was done at 10 in the morning, or some minutes later, the first day of the new year. Most illustrious.
- [240:02]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
Let the prisoner go free. It is the king's will.
- [240:06]
Narrator
Another blush followed this unregal outburst. And he covered his indecorum as well as he could could by adding, it
- [240:14]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
enrageth me that a man should be hanged upon such idle hair brained evidence.
- [240:21]
Narrator
A low buzz of admiration swept through the assemblage. It was not admiration of the decree that had been delivered by Tom. For the propriety or expediency of pardoning a convicted prisoner was a thing which few there would have felt justified in either redeeming, admitting, or admiring. No, the admiration was for the intelligence and spirit which Tom had displayed. Some of the low voiced remarks were to this.
- [240:50]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
This is no mad king.
- [240:52]
Miles Hendon
He has his wits sound.
- [240:55]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
How sanely he put his questions.
- [240:58]
Advertisement / Commercial Voice
How like his former natural self was
- [241:00]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
this abrupt, imperious disposal of the matter.
- [241:04]
Narrator
God be thanked, his infirmity is spent. This is no weakling but a king. He hath Borne himself like to his own father. The air being filled with applause, Tom's ear necessarily caught a little of it. The effect which this had upon him was to put him greatly at his ease, and also to charge his system with very gratifying sensations. However, his juvenile curiosity soon rose superior to these pleasant thoughts and feelings. He was eager to know what sort of deadly mischief the woman and the little girl could have been about. So by his command, the two terrified and sobbing creatures were brought before him.
- [241:48]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
What is it that these have done?
- [241:50]
Narrator
He inquired of the sheriff.
- [241:53]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
Please, your majesty, A black crime is charged upon them and clearly proven. Wherefore the judges have decreed, according to the law, that they be hanged. They sold themselves to the devil. Such is their crime.
- [242:06]
Narrator
Tom shuddered. He had been taught to abhor people who did this wicked thing. Still, he was not going to deny himself the pleasure of feeding his curiosity for all that.
- [242:18]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
So he asked, where was this done, and when?
- [242:22]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
On the midnight in December, in the ruined church, your majesty.
- [242:27]
Narrator
Tom shuddered again.
- [242:30]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
Who was there present?
- [242:33]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
Only these two, your grace, and that other.
- [242:38]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
Have these confess'd?
- [242:40]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
Nay, not so, sire. They do deny it.
- [242:44]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
Then prithee, how was it known?
- [242:47]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
Certain witnesses did see them wending thither. Good, your majesty. This bred the suspicion and dire effects of have since confirmed and justified it. In particular, it is in evidence that though the wicked power so obtained, they did invoke and bring about a storm that wasted all the region round about above 40. Witnesses have proved the storm. Sooth one might have had a thousand, for all had reason to remember it, sith all had suffered by it.
- [243:11]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
Sirtes, this is a serious matter.
- [243:15]
Narrator
Tom turned this dark piece of scoundrelism over in his mind awhile, Then asked,
- [243:22]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
suffered the woman also by the storm?
- [243:26]
Narrator
Several old heads among the assemblage nodded their recognition of the wisdom of this question. The sheriff, however, saw nothing consequential in the inquiry. He answered with simple.
- [243:39]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
Indeed did she, your majesty. And most righteously as all ever her habitation was swept away, and herself and child left shelterless.
- [243:48]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
Methinks the power to do herself so ill a turn was dearly bought. She had been cheated. Had she paid but a farthing for it? That she paid her soul and her child's argueth that she is mad. If she is mad, she knoweth not what she doth, therefore sinneth not.
- [244:09]
Narrator
The elderly heads nodded recognition of Tom's wisdom once more. And one individual
- [244:17]
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and the king be
- [244:18]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
mad himself, according to report. Then it is a madness of the
- [244:23]
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sort that would improve the sanity of Some I wot of if by the
- [244:26]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
gentle providence of God, they could but catch it.
- [244:30]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
What age hath the child?
- [244:33]
Narrator
Asked Tom.
- [244:35]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
Nine years, please your majesty.
- [244:39]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
By the law of England, may a child enter into covenant and sell itself, my lord?
- [244:44]
Narrator
Asked Tom, turning to a learned judge.
- [244:49]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
Law doth not permit a child to make or meddle in any weighty matter, good my liege, holding that its callow wit unfitteth it to cope with the riper wit and evil schemings of them that are its elders. The devil may buy a child if he so choose, and the child agree thereto, but not an Englishman. In this latter case, the contract would be null and void.
- [245:09]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
It seemeth a rude, unchristian thing, and ill contrived that English law denieth privileges to Englishmen to waste them on the devil.
- [245:19]
Narrator
Cried Tom with honest heat. This novel view of the matter excited many smiles and was stored away in many heads, to be repeated about the court as evidence of Tom's originality as well as progress toward mental health. The elder culprit had ceased from sobbing and was hanging upon Tom's words with an excited interest and a growing hope. Tom noticed this, and it strongly inclined his sympathies toward her in her perilous and unfriended situation. Presently he asked, how wroth they to bring the storm?
- [246:00]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
By pulling off their stockings, sire.
- [246:05]
Narrator
This astonished Tom and also fired his curiosity to fever heat. He said eagerly, it is wonderful.
- [246:15]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
Hath it always this dread effect?
- [246:18]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
Always, my liege. At least if the woman desire it and utter the needful words either in her mind or with her tongue.
- [246:26]
Narrator
Tom turned to the woman and said with impetuous, exert thy power.
- [246:32]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
I would see a storm.
- [246:35]
Narrator
There was a sudden paling of cheeks in the superstitious assemblage and a general, though unexpressed desire to get out of the place. All of which was lost upon Tom, who was dead to everything. But the perpetrator proposed cataclysm. Seeing a puzzled and astonished look in the woman's face, he added excitedly, never fear.
- [246:57]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
Thou shalt be blameless more. Thou shalt go free. None shall touch thee. Exert thy power.
- [247:06]
Narrator
O my lord the king.
- [247:07]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
I have it not.
- [247:09]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
I have been falsely accused.
- [247:12]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
Thy fear stay thee. Be of good heart. Thou shalt suffer no harm. Make a storm. It mattereth not how small a one I require, not great or harmful, but indeed prefer the opposite. Do this, and thy life is spared. Thou shalt go out free with thy child, bearing the king's pardon, and safe from hurt or malice, from any in the realm.
- [247:41]
Narrator
The woman prostrated herself and protested with tears that she had no power to do the miracle else she would gladly win her child's life alone, and be content to lose her own, if by obedience to the King's command so precious a grace might be acquired. Tom urged the woman still adhered to her declarations. Finally he I think the woman hath
- [248:08]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
said true, and my mother were in her place, and gifted with the devil's functions. She had not stayed a moment to call her storms and lay the whole land in ruins. If the saving of my forfeit life were the price she got, it is argument that other mothers are made in like mould. Thou art free, goodwife, thou and thy child, for I do think thee innocent now thou' st not to fear being pardoned. Pull off thy stockings, an thou canst make me a storm. Thou shalt be rich.
- [248:46]
Narrator
The redeemed creature was loud in her gratitude and proceeded to obey, whilst Tom looked on with eager expectancy, a little marred by apprehension, the courtiers at the same time manifesting the decided discomfort and uneasiness, the woman stripped her own feet and her little girl's also, and plainly did her best to reward the king's generosity with an earthquake. But it was all a failure and a disappointment. Tom sighed and said, there, good soul,
- [249:18]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
trouble thyself no further. Thy power is departed out of thee. Go thy way in peace, and if it return to thee at any time, forget me not, but fetch me a storm.
- [249:33]
Narrator
Chapter 15. Chapter 16 of the Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org the Prince and the Pauper Chapter 16 the State Dinner the dinner hour drew near, yet strangely enough, the thought brought but slight discomfort to Tom and hardly any terror. The morning's experiences had wonderfully built up his confidence. The poor little ash cat was already more wonted to his strange garret after four days habit than a mature person could have become in a full month. A child's facility in accommodating itself to circumstances was never more strikingly illustrated. Let us privileged ones hurry to the great banqueting room and have a glance at matters there whilst Tom is being made ready for the imposing occasion. It is a spacious apartment with gilded pillars and pilasters and pictured walls and ceilings at the door stand tall, guards as rigid as statues, dressed in rich and picturesque costumes and bearing halberds in a high gallery which runs all around the place is a band of men, musicians, and a packed company of citizens of both sexes in brilliant attire. In the centre of the room, upon a raised platform, is Tom's table. Now let the ancient chronicler speak.
- [251:29]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
A gentleman enters the room bearing a rod and along with him another bearing a tablecloth, which after they have both kneeled three times with the utmost veneration he spreads upon the table, and after kneeling again, they both retire.
- [251:50]
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- [253:13]
Narrator
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- [253:52]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Then come to others. One with a rod again, the other with a salt cellar, a plate and bread. And when they have kneeled as the others had done and placed what was brought upon the table, they too retire with the same ceremonies performed by the first. At last come two nobles, richly clothed, one bearing a tasting knife, who, after prostrating themselves three times in the most graceful manner, approach and rub the table with bread and salt with as much awe as if the king had been present.
- [254:37]
Narrator
So end the solemn preliminaries. Now, far down the echoing corridors, we hear a bugle blast and the indistinct cry, place for the King.
- [254:49]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Wave for the King's most excellent majesty.
- [254:54]
Narrator
These sounds are momentarily repeated, they grow nearer and nearer, and presently, almost in our faces the martial note peals and the cry rings out way for the king. At this instant the shining pageant appears and files in at the door with a measured march. Let the chronicler speak again.
- [255:20]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
First come gentlemen, barons, earls, knights of the garter, all richly dressed and bareheaded. Next comes the chancellor between two, one of which carries the royal sceptre, the other the sword of state, in a red scabbard studded with golden fleur de lis, the point upwards. Next comes the king himself, who upon his appearing 12 trumpets and many drums salute with a great burst of welcome, while all in the galleries rise in their places, crying, God save the King. And after him come nobles attached to his person, and on his right and left march his guard of honour, his 50 gentlemen pensioners with gilt battle axes.
- [256:18]
Narrator
This was all fine and pleasant. Tom's pulse beat high and a glad light was in his eye. He bore himself right gracefully, and all the more so because he was not thinking of how he was doing it, his mind being charmed and occupied with the blithe sights and sounds about him. And besides, nobody can be very ungraceful in nicely fitting, beautiful clothes after he has grown a little used to them, especially if he is for the moment unconscious of them. Tom remembered his instructions and acknowledged his greeting with a slight inclination of his plumed head and a courteous I thank
- [257:01]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
ye, my good people.
- [257:03]
Narrator
He seated himself at table without removing his cap, and did it without the least embarrassment, for to eat with one's cap on was the one solitary royal custom upon which the kings and the canties met upon common ground, neither party having any advantage over the other in the matter of old familiarity with it. The pageant broke up and grouped itself picturesquely and remained bareheaded. Now, to the sound of gay music, the yeomen of the guard entered the
- [257:37]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
tallest and mightiest men in England, they being carefully selected in this regard, but
- [257:44]
Narrator
we will let the chronicler tell about it.
- [257:48]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
The yeomen of the guard entered bareheaded, clothed in scarlet, with golden roses upon their backs, and these went and came, and bringing in each turn a course of dishes served in plate. These dishes were received by a gentleman in the same order in which they were brought and placed upon the table, while the taster gave to each guard a mouthful to eat of the particular dish he had brought, for fear of any poison.
- [258:22]
Narrator
Tom made a good dinner notwithstanding. He was conscious that hundreds of eyes followed each morsel to his mouth, and watched him eat it with an interest which could not have been more intense if it had been a deadly explosive, and was expected to blow him up and scatter him all about the place. He was careful not to hurry, and equally careful not to do anything whatever for himself, but wait till the proper official knelt down and did it for him. He got through without a mistake, flawless and precious triumph. When the meal was over at last, and he marched away in the midst of his bright pageant, with the happy noises in his ears of blaring bugles, rolling drums, and thundering acclamations, he felt that if he had seen the worst of dining in public, it was an ordeal which he would be glad to endure several times a day, if by that means he could but by himself, free from some of the more formidable requirements of his royal office. End of Chapter 16. Chapter 17 of the Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org the Prince and the Pauper Chapter 17 Foo Foo the First Miles Hindon hurried along toward the Southwark end of the bridge, keeping a sharp lookout for the persons he sought and hoping and expecting to overtake them presently. He was disappointed in this, however. By asking questions he was enabled to track them part of the way through Southwark. Then all traces ceased and he was perplexed as to how to proceed. Still he continued his efforts as best he could during the rest of the day. Nightfall found him leg weary, half famished, and his desire as far from accomplishment as ever. So he supped at the Tabard Inn and went to bed, resolved to make an early start in the morning and give the town an exhaustive search. As he lay thinking and planning, he presently began to reason,
- [260:52]
Miles Hendon
h'm. The boy would escape from the ruffian, his reputed father, if possible. Would he go back to London and seek his former haunts? No, he would not do that. He would avoid recapture. What then would he do? Hm? Never having had a friend in the world or a protector until he met Miles Hendon. He would naturally try to find that friend again, provided the effort did not require him to go toward London in danger. He would strike for Hendon Hall. That is what he would do, for he knew Hendon was homeward bound and there he might expect to find him.
- [261:37]
Narrator
Yes, the case was plain to Hindon. He must lose no more time in Southwark, but move at once through Kent toward Monk's Holm, searching the wood and inquiring as he went. Let us return to the vanished little king now. The ruffian whom the waiter at the inn on the bridge saw about to join the youth and the king did not exactly, exactly joined them, but fell in close behind them and followed their steps. He said nothing. His left arm was in a sling, and he wore a large green patch over his left eye. He limped slightly and used an oaken staff as a support. The youth led the king a crooked course through Southwark, and by and by struck into the high road beyond. The king was irritated now and said he would stop here. It was Hindon's place to come to him, not his to go to Hindon. He would not endure such insolence. He would stop where he was. The youth said, thou' LT tarry here,
- [262:42]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
and thy friend lying wounded in the wood yonder.
- [262:45]
Miles Hendon
So be it.
- [262:46]
Narrator
Then the king's manner changed at once. He cried out, wounded.
- [262:54]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
And who hath dared to do it? But that is a part. Lead on, lead on. Faster, sirrah. Art shod with lead. Wounded is he now, though the doer of it be the duke's son, he shall rue.
- [263:12]
Narrator
Was some distance to the wood, but the space was speedily traversed. The youth looked about him, discovered a bough sticking in the ground with a small, small bit of rag tied to it, then led the way into the forest, watching for similar boughs and finding them at intervals. They were evidently guides to the point he was aiming at. By and by, an open place was reached. Where were the charred remains of a farmhouse, and near them a barn which was falling to ruin and decay. There was no sign of life anywhere, and utter silence prevailed. The youth entered the barn, the king following eagerly upon his heels. No one there. The king shot a surprised and suspicious glance at the youth and asked, where is he? A mocking laugh was his answer. The king was in a rage. In a moment he seized a billet of wood and was in the act of charging upon the youth when another mocking laugh fell upon him. His ear. It was from the lame ruffian who had been following at a distance the king turned and said angrily, who art
- [264:22]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
thou, and what is thy business here?
- [264:26]
Narrator
Leave thy foolery, said the man, and quiet thyself.
- [264:32]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
My disguise is none so good that
- [264:34]
Narrator
thou canst pretend thou knowest not thy father through it.
- [264:40]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Thou art not my father. I know thee not. I am the king. If thou hast hid my servant, find him for me, or thou shalt sup sorrow for what thou hast done.
- [264:56]
Narrator
John Canty replied in a stern and measured voice, it is plain thou art
- [265:03]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
mad, and I am loth to punish thee. But if thou provoke me, I must. Thy prating doth no harm here, where
- [265:14]
Narrator
there are no ears that need to mind thy follies.
- [265:18]
King Henry VIII
Yet it is well to practise thy
- [265:20]
Narrator
tongue to wary speech, that it may do no hurt when our quarters change.
- [265:26]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
I have done a murder and may
- [265:29]
Narrator
not tarry at home. Neither shalt thou seen. I need thy servants. My name is changed for wise reasons.
- [265:39]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
It is Hobbes, John Hobbes. Thine is Jack.
- [265:44]
Narrator
Charge thy memory accordingly. Now then, speak. Where is thy mother? Where are thy sisters?
- [265:53]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
They came not to the place appointed.
- [265:57]
Narrator
Knowest thou whither they went? The king answered sullenly, Trouble me not with these riddles.
- [266:05]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
My mother is dead. My sisters are in the palace.
- [266:09]
Narrator
The youth nearby burst into a derisive laugh, and the king would have assaulted him. But Canty or Hobbs, as he now called himself, prevented him and said, peace,
- [266:21]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Hugo, vex him not. His mind is astray, and thy ways affret him.
- [266:28]
Narrator
Sit thee down, Jack, and quiet thyself. Thou shalt have a morsel to eat anon. Hobbs and Hugo fell to talking together in low voices, and the king removed himself as far as he could from their disagreeable company. He withdrew into the twilight of the farther end of the barn, where he found the earthen floor bedded of foam, foot deep with straw. He lay down here, drew straw over himself in lieu of blankets, and was soon absorbed in thinking. He had many griefs, but the minor ones were swept almost into forgetfulness by the Supreme One, the loss of his father to the rest of the world, the name of Henry VIII brought a shiver and suggested an ogre whose nostrils breathed destruction and whose hand dealt scourgings and death. But to this boy the name brought only sensations of pleasure. The figure it invoked wore a countenance that was all gentleness and affection. He called to mind a long succession of loving passages between his father and himself, and dwelt fondly upon them his unstinted tears attesting how deep and real was the grief that possessed his whole heart. As the afternoon wasted away, the lad, wearied with his troubles, sank gradually into a tranquil and healing slumber. After a considerable time he could not tell how longhis senses struggled to a half consciousness, and as he lay with closed eyes, vaguely wondering where he was and what had been happening, he noted a murmurous sound, the sullen beating of rain upon the roof. A snug sense of comfort stole over him, which was rudely broken the next moment by a chorus of piping cackles and coarse laughter. It startled him disagreeably, and he unmuffled his head to see whence this interruption proceeded. A grim and unsightly picture met his eye. A bright fire was burning in the middle of the floor at the other end of the barn, and around it, and lit up weirdly by the red glare, lolled and sprawled the motliest company of tattered gutterskum and ruffians of both sexes he had ever read or dreamed of. There were huge stalwart men, brown with exposure, long haired and clothed in fantastic rags. There were middle sized youths of truculent countenance and similarly clad. There were blind mendicants with patched or bandaged eyes, crippled ones with wooden legs and crutches, diseased ones with running sores, peeping from ineffectual wrappings. There was a villain looking peddler with his pack, a knife grinder, a tinker, and a barber surgeon with the implements of their trades. Some of the females were hardly grown girls, some were at prime, some were old and wrinkled hags, and all were loud, brazen, foul mouthed, and all soiled and slatternly. There were three sore faced babies. There were a couple of starveling curs with strings about their necks whose office was to lead the blind. The night was come. The gang had just finished feasting. An orgy was beginning. The can of liquor was passing from mouth to mouth. A general cry broke forth. One of the blind men got up and made ready by casting aside the patches that sheltered his excellent eyes and the pathetic placard which recited the cause of his calamity, dot and go. One disencumbered himself of his chest timber leg, and took his place upon sound and healthy limbs beside his fellow rascal. Then they roared out a rollicking ditty and were reinforced by the whole crew at the end of each stanza in a rousing chorus. By the time the last stanza was reached, the half drunken enthusiasm had risen to such a pitch that everybody joined in and sang it clear through from the beginning producing a volume of villainous sound that made the rafters quake. These were the inspiring
- [270:55]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
fine darkmans than bouse Mort and ken the bine coastings awast on chains to Trine by Rome co stein for his long live at
- [271:09]
King Henry VIII
last being doubt by morts and Tor and tor being out of the Rome
- [271:16]
Narrator
vile and tore the COVID that cloyed your duds upon the chains to Trine. Conversation followed not in the thieves dialect of the song, for that was only used in talk when unfriendly ears might be listening. In the course of it it appeared that John Hobbs was not altogether a new recruit, but had trained in the gang at some former time. His later history was called for, and when he said he had accidentally killed a man, considerable satisfaction was expressed. When he added that the man was a priest, he was roundly applauded and had to take a drink with everybody. Old acquaintances welcomed him joyously and new ones were proud to shake him by the hand. He was asked why he had tarried away so many months. He answered, London is better than the
- [272:15]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
country and safer these late years.
- [272:18]
Narrator
The laws be so bitter and so diligently enforced.
- [272:22]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
And I had not had that accident.
- [272:24]
Narrator
I had stayed there. I had resolved to stay and never more venture countrywards.
- [272:32]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
But the accident has ended that he
- [272:36]
Narrator
inquired how many persons the gang numbered now. The ruffler or chief?
- [272:42]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
5 and 20 sturdy, budges, balks, files, clapper, dodgeons and maunders. Counting the dells and doxies and other morts. Most are here. The rest are wandering eastward along the winter lea. We follow at dawn.
- [273:00]
Narrator
I do not see Wynn among the
- [273:02]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
honest folk about me. Where may he be, poor lad? His diet is brimstone now and over hot for a delicate taste. He was killed in a brawl somewhere around midsummer.
- [273:17]
Narrator
I sorrowed to hear that the wen
- [273:20]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
was a capable man and brave. That was he truly Black Bess is Dell is of as yet but absent on the eastward tramp. A fine lass of nice ways and orderly conduct. None ever seeing her drunk above four days in the Severn.
- [273:41]
Narrator
She was ever strict, I remember it well.
- [273:45]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
A goodly wench and worthy all commendation.
- [273:49]
Narrator
Her mother was more free and less particular.
- [273:52]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
A troublesome and ugly tempered beltame, but furnished with a wit above the common. We lost her through it. Her gift of palmistry and other sorts of fortune telling begot for her at last a witch's name and fame. The law roasted her to death. A slow fire. It did touch me to a sort of tenderness to see the gallant way she met her lot cursing and reviling all the crowd that gaped and gazed around her, Whilst the flames licked upward toward her face and catched her thin locks and crackled about her old grey head, cursing them. Why, an thou shouldst live a thousand years, thou'dst never hear so masterful a cursing. Alack, her heart died with her. There be base and weakling imitations left, but no true blasphemy.
- [274:45]
Narrator
The ruffler sighed. The listeners sighed in sympathy. A general depression fell upon the company for a moment. For even hardened outcasts like these are not wholly dead to sentiment, but are able to feel a fleeting sense of loss and affliction at wide intervals and under peculiarly favoring circumstances. As in cases like to this, for instance. When genius and culture depart and leave no air. However, a deep drink all round soon restored the spirits of the mourners.
- [275:21]
King Henry VIII
Have any others of our friends fared?
- [275:23]
Narrator
Hardly asked Hobbs.
- [275:27]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Some, yes. Particularly newcomers, such as small husbandmen turned shiftless and hungry upon the world because their farms were taken from them to be changed to sheep range. They begged and were whipped at the cart's tail, naked from the girdle up till the blood ran, then set in the stocks to be pelted. They begged again, were whipped again, and deprived of an ear. They begged a third time. Poor devils. What else could they do? And were branded on the cheek with a red hot iron, then sold for slaves. They ran away, were hunted down and hanged. Tis a brief tale and quickly told. Others of us have fared less hardly. Stand forth, Yokel. Burns and Hodge, show your adornments.
- [276:17]
Narrator
These stood up and stripped away some of their rags, exposing their backs, criss crossed with ropy old welts left by the lash. One turned up his hair and showed the place where a left ear had once been. Another showed a brand upon his shoulder, the letter V. And a mutilated ear the third. I am Yokel. Once a farmer and prosperous with loving wife and kids. Now am I somewhat different in estate and calling. And the wife and kids are gone. Mayhap there in heaven, mayhap in in the other place. But the kindly God be thanked, they bide no more in England. My good old blameless mother strove to earn bread by nursing the sick. One of these died, the doctors knew not how. So my mother was burnt for a witch whilst my babes looked on. And English law. Up, all with your cups. Now all together and with a cheer. Drink to the merciful English law that delivered her from the English hell. Thank you, mates, one and all. I begged from house to house, I and the wife bearing with us the hungry kids. But it was crime to be hungry in England. So they stripped us and lashed us through three towns. Drink ye all again to the merciful English law. For its lash drank deep of my Mary's blood and its blessed deliverance came quick. She lies there in the potter's field, safe from all harms. And the kids well, whilst the law lashed me from town to town they starved.
- [277:52]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Drink, lads.
- [277:53]
Narrator
Only a drop, a drop. To the poor kids that never did any creature harm. I begged again, begged for a crust and got the stocks and lost an ear.
- [278:03]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
See here, bides the stump.
- [278:06]
Narrator
I begged again, and here's a stump, o the other, to keep me minded of it. And still I begged agin and was sold for a slave. Here on my cheek, under the stain. If I washed it off, you might see the red s the branding iron left there. A slave. Do you understand that word?
- [278:24]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
An English slave. That is he that stands before ye.
- [278:28]
Narrator
I have run from my master, and when I am found the heavy curse of heaven fall in the law of the land that hath commanded it, I shall hang. A ringing voice came through the murky air.
- [278:44]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Thou shalt not. And this day the end of that law has come.
- [278:51]
Narrator
All turned and saw the fantastic figure of the little king approaching hurriedly as it emerged into the light and was clearly revealed. A general explosion of inquiries broke out. Who is it?
- [279:05]
King Henry VIII
Who is it?
- [279:06]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
What is it?
- [279:07]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
Who art thou?
- [279:07]
Narrator
Art thou Manikin? The boy stood unconfused in the midst of all those surprised and questioning eyes and answered with princely dignity, I am
- [279:20]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Edward, King of England.
- [279:24]
Narrator
A wild burst of laughter followed, partly of derision and partly of delight in the excellence of the joke. The king was stung.
- [279:34]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
He said sharply, ye mannerless vagrants, is this your recognition of a royal boon I have promised?
- [279:45]
Narrator
He said more with angry voice and excited gesture, but it was lost in a whirlwind of laughter and mocking exclamations. John Hobbs made several attempts to make himself heard above the din and at last succeeded.
- [280:03]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Mates, he is my son, A dreamer, a fool, and stark mad, mind him not. He thinketh he is the king.
- [280:16]
Narrator
I am the king, said Edward, turning toward him.
- [280:22]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
As thou shalt know to thy cost. In good time thou hast confessed a murder. Thou shalt swing for it.
- [280:33]
King Henry VIII
Thou' LT betray me, thou, and I
- [280:37]
Narrator
get my hands upon thee. Tut, tut, said the burly ruffler, interposing in time to save the king and emphasizing this service by knocking Hobbs down
- [280:48]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
with his fist that's respect for neither king nor rufflers. And thou insult my presence so again, I'll hang thee up myself.
- [280:59]
Narrator
Then he said to his thou must
- [281:03]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
make no threats against thy mates, lad. And thou must guard thy tongue for saying evil against them elsewhere. Be king, if it please thy mad humour, but be not harmful in it sink the title thou hast uttered. Tis treason. We be bad men in some few trifling ways, but none among us is so base as to be traitor to his king. We be loving and loyal hearts in that regard. Note if I speak truth now altogether. Long live Edward, King of England.
- [281:43]
Narrator
King of England. The response came with such a thunder gust from the motley crew that the crazy building vibrated to the sound. The little king's face lighted with pleasure for an instant, and he slightly inclined his head and said with grave thank
- [282:02]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
you, my good people.
- [282:04]
Narrator
This unexpected result threw the company into convulsions of merriment. When something like quiet was presently. Come again, the ruffler said firmly, but with an accent of good drop it, boy.
- [282:18]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Tis not wise, nor well humour thy fancy, if thou must but choose some other title.
- [282:28]
Narrator
A tinker shrieked out a suggestion.
- [282:32]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Fufu the first King of the Moon Calves.
- [282:37]
Narrator
The title took at once. Every throat responded, and a roaring shout went up of Long live Foo Foo, the first King of the Moon Calves. Followed by hootings, catcalls and peals of laughter.
- [282:52]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
Woo hoo.
- [282:53]
Miles Hendon
Ha ha ha ha.
- [282:54]
Narrator
Hale him forth and crown him, Robe him, sceptre him, throne him. These and 20 other cries broke out at once, and almost before the poor little victim could draw breath, he was crowned with a tin basin, robed in a tattered blanket, throned upon a barrel and sceptred with the tinker's soldering iron. Then all flung themselves upon their knees about him and sent up a chorus of ironical wailings and mocking supplications whilst they swabbed their eyes with their soiled and ragged sleeves and aprons.
- [283:33]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Be gracious to us, O sweet king.
- [283:37]
Advertisement / Commercial Voice
Trample not upon thy beseeching worms. O noble majesty.
- [283:42]
Narrator
Pity thy slaves and comfort them with a royal kick.
- [283:47]
Miles Hendon
Cheer us and warm us with thy gracious rays.
- [283:50]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
O flaming sun of sovereignty.
- [283:55]
Advertisement / Commercial Voice
Sanctify the ground with the touch of thy foot that we may eat the dirt and be ennobled.
- [284:01]
Narrator
Deign to spit upon us, O sire, that our children's children may tell of thy princely condescension and be proud and happy forever. But the humorous tinker made the hit of the evening and carried off the honours. Kneeling, he pretended to kiss the king's foot, and was indignantly spurned. Whereupon he went about begging for a rag to paste over the place upon his face which had been touched by the foot, saying it must be preserved from contact with the vulgar air, and that he should make his fortune by going on the highway and exposing it to view at the rate of a hundred shillings a sight. He made himself so killingly funny, that he was the envy and admiration admiration of the whole mangy rabble. Tears of shame and indignation stood in the little monarch's eyes, and the thought in his heart was, I had offered
- [284:59]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
them a di brought they could not be more cruel yet I have proffered not to do them a kindness, and thus they used me for it.
- [285:14]
Narrator
End of chapter 17. Chapter 18 of the Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org the Prince and the Pauper Chapter 18 the Prince with the Tramps the troop of vagabonds turned out at early dawn and set forward on their march. There was a lowering sky overhead, sloppy ground underfoot, and a winter chill in the air. All gaiety was gone from the company. Some were sullen and silent, some were irritable and petulant none were gentle humored. All were thirsty. The Ruffler put Jack in Hugo's charge with some brief instructions, and commanded John Canty to keep away from him and let him alone. He also warned Hugo not to be too rough with the lad. After a while the weather grew milder, and the clouds lifted it somewhat. The troops ceased to shiver, and their spirits began to improve. They grew more and more cheerful, and finally began to chaff each other and insult passengers along the highway. This showed that they were awakening to an appreciation of life and its joys once more. The dread in which their sort was held was apparent in the fact that everybody gave them the right road, and took their ribald insolences meekly, without venturing to talk back. They snatched linen from the hedges, occasionally in full view of the owners, who made no protest, but only seemed grateful that they did not take the hedges too. By and by they invaded a small farmhouse and made themselves at home, while the trembling farmer and his people swept the larder clean to furnish breakfast for them. They chucked the housewife and her daughters under the chin whilst receiving the food from their hands, and made coarse jests about them, accompanied with insulting epithets and bursts of horse LAUGHTER. They threw bones and vegetables at the farmer and his sons, kept them dodging all the time and applauded uproariously when a good hit was made. They ended by buttering the head of one of the daughters, who resented some of their familiarities. When they took their leave, they threatened to come back and burn the house over the heads of the family if any report of their doings got to the ears of the authorities. About noon, after a long and weary tramp, the gang came to a halt behind a hedge on the outskirts of a considerable village. An hour was allowed for rest. Then the crew scattered themselves abroad to enter the village at different, different points, to ply their various trades. Jack was sent with Hugo. They wandered hither and thither for some time, Hugo watching for opportunities to do a stroke of business, but finding none, so he finally said, I see not to steal.
- [288:39]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
It is a paltry place.
- [288:40]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Wherefore we will beg, we forsooth, follow thy trade, it befits thee. But I will not beg.
- [288:52]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Thou wilt not beg.
- [288:54]
Narrator
Exclaimed Hugo, eyeing the King with surprise.
- [288:59]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Prithee, since when hast thou reformed?
- [289:03]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
What dost thou mean?
- [289:06]
King Henry VIII
Mean?
- [289:07]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Hast thou not begged the streets of
- [289:09]
Miles Hendon
London all thy life?
- [289:11]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
I, Thou idiot.
- [289:14]
Miles Hendon
Spare thy compliments.
- [289:16]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Thy stock will last the longer.
- [289:18]
Miles Hendon
Thy father says thou hast begged all thy days.
- [289:21]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Mayhap he lied.
- [289:23]
Narrator
Peradventure, you will even make so bold
- [289:25]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
as to say he lied, scoffed Hugo.
- [289:29]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Him you call my father? Yes, he lied.
- [289:34]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Come, play not thy merry game of
- [289:36]
Miles Hendon
madman so far, mate.
- [289:38]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Use it for thy amusement, not thy hurt. And I tell him this, he will
- [289:43]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
scorch thee finely for it, save thyself the trouble. I will tell him I like thy
- [289:51]
Miles Hendon
spirit, I do, in truth, but I
- [289:53]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
do not admire thy judgment. Bone rackings and bastings be plenty enow in this life without going out of one's way to invite them. But a truce to these matters, I believe your father.
- [290:05]
Miles Hendon
I doubt not he can lie. I doubt not he doth lie upon occasion, for the best of us do
- [290:11]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
that, but there is no occasion here. A wise man does not waste so good a commodity as lying for naught. But come, sith it is thy humour
- [290:21]
Miles Hendon
to give over begging.
- [290:22]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Wherewithal, shall we busy ourselves with robbing kitchens?
- [290:27]
Narrator
The King said impatiently.
- [290:30]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Have done with this, Foley, you weary me.
- [290:35]
Narrator
Hugo replied with temper.
- [290:37]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Now, hark ye, mate.
- [290:39]
Miles Hendon
You will not beg, you will not
- [290:40]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
rob, so be it.
- [290:42]
Miles Hendon
But I will tell you what you will do.
- [290:44]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
You will play decoy whilst I beg.
- [290:47]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Refuse and you think you may venture.
- [290:51]
Narrator
The king was about to reply contemptuously when Hugo said, interrupting peace, here comes
- [290:58]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
one with a kindly face. Now will I fall down in a fit when the stranger runs to me.
- [291:03]
Miles Hendon
Set you up a wail, and fall
- [291:05]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
upon your knees, seeming to weep, Then cry out, as all the devils of
- [291:09]
Narrator
misery were in your belly, and say,
- [291:11]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
o sir, it is my poor afflicted brother, and we be friendless. So God's name cast through your merciful eyes one pitiful look upon a sick, forsaken and most miserable wretched. Bestow one little penny out of thy riches upon one smitten of God and ready to perish. And, mind you, keep you on wailing
- [291:30]
Miles Hendon
and abate, not till we bilk him
- [291:32]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
of his penny else shall you rue it.
- [291:35]
Narrator
Then immediately Hugo began to moan and groan and roll his eyes and reel and totter about. And when the stranger was close at hand, down he sprawled before him with a shout, shriek, and began to writhe and wallow in the dirt in seeming agony. Oh, dear, oh, dear. Cried the benevolent stranger.
- [292:00]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
O poor soul, poor soul, how he doth suffer. There, let me help thee up.
- [292:11]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
O noble sir, forbear. And God love you for a princely gentleman. But it giveth me cruel pain to
- [292:17]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
touch me when I am taken.
- [292:18]
Narrator
So my brother there will tell your
- [292:20]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
worship how I am racked with anguish when these fits be upon me. A penny, dear sir, a penny to buy a little food. Then leave me to my sorrows.
- [292:30]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
A penny thou shalt have. Three, thou hapless creature.
- [292:35]
Narrator
And he fumbled in his pocket with nervous haste and got them out. There, poor lad, take them.
- [292:43]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
And most welcome. Now come hither, my boy, and help me carry thy stricken brother to yon house. Where I am not his brother, said the king, interrupting. What, not his brother?
- [292:59]
Narrator
Oh, hear him. Groaned Hugo, then privately ground his teeth. He denies his own brother, and he
- [293:08]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
with one foot in the grave.
- [293:11]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Boy, thou art indeed hard of heart. If this is thy brother, for shame, and he scarce able to move hand or foot, if he is not thy brother, who is he then? A beggar and a thief. He hast got your money and has picked your pocket likewise, and thou wilt do a healing miracle. Lay thy staff over his shoulders and trust providence for the rest.
- [293:40]
Narrator
But Hugo did not tarry for the miracle. In a moment he was up and off like the wind, the gentleman following after and raising the hue, and cry lustily as he went. The king, breathing deep gratitude to heaven for his own release, fled in the opposite direction and did not slacken his pace until he was out of harm's reach. He took the first road that offered and soon put the village behind him. He hurried along as briskly as he could during several hours, keeping a nervous watch over his shoulder for pursuit. But his fears left him at last, and a grateful sense of security took their place. He recognized now that he was hungry, hungry and also very tired. So he halted at a farmhouse. But when he was about to speak, he was cut short and driven rudely away. His clothes were against him. He wandered on, wounded and indignant, and was resolved to put himself in the way of like treatment no more, but hunger is pride's master. So, as the evening drew near, he made an attempt at another farmhouse. But here he fared worse than before, for he was called hard names and was promised a rest as a vagrant. Except he moved on promptly. The night came on, chilly and overcast, and still the footsore monarch labored slowly on. He was obliged to keep moving, for every time he sat down to rest, he was soon penetrated to the the bone with the cold. All his sensations and experiences as he moved through the solemn gloom and the empty vastness of the night were new and strange to him. At intervals he heard voices approach, pass by and fade into silence. And as he saw nothing more of the bodies they belonged to than a sort of formless, drifting blur, there was something spectral and uncanny about it all that made him shiver, shudder. Occasionally he'd caught the twinkle of a light, always far away, apparently almost in another world. If he heard the tinkle of a sheep's bell, it was vague, distant, indistinct. The muffled lowing of the herds floated to him on the night wind in vanishing cadences, a mournful sound. Now and then came the complaining howl of a dog over a viewless exception, expanses of field and forest. All sounds were remote. They made the little king feel that all life and activity were far removed from him and that he stood solitary, companionless, in the center of a measureless solitude. He stumbled along through the gruesome fascinations of this new experience, startled occasionally by the soft rustling of the dry leaves, waves overhead so like human whispers they seem to sound. And by and by he came suddenly upon the freckled light of a tin lantern near at hand. He stepped back into the shadows and waited. The lantern stood by the open door of a barn. The king waited some time. There was no sound and nobody stirring. He got so cold standing still, still, and the hospitable barn looked so enticing that at last he Resolved to risk everything and enter, he started swiftly and stealthily, and just as he was crossing the threshold, he heard voices behind him. He darted behind a cask within the barn and stooped down. Two farm laborers came in, bringing the lantern with them, and fell to work. Work talking. Meanwhile, whilst they moved about with the light, the king made good use of his eyes and took the bearings of what seemed to be a good sized stall at the further end of the place, purposing to grope his way to it when he should be left to himself. He also noted the position of a pile of horse blankets midway of the route, with the intent to levy upon them for the service of the Crown of England for one night. By and by, the men finished and went away, fastening the door behind them and taking the lantern with them. The shivering king made for the blankets with as good speed as the darkness would allow, gathered them up, and then groped his way safely to the stall of two of the blankets. He made a bed, then covered himself with the remaining two. He was a glad monarch now, though the blankets were old and thin and not quite warm enough, and besides gave out a pungent horsey odor that was almost suffocatingly powerful. Although the king was hungry and chilly, he was also so tired and so drowsy that these latter influences soon began to get the advantage of the former, and he presently dozed off into a state of semi consciousness. Then, just as he was on the point of losing himself wholly, he distinctly felt something touch him. He was broad awake in a moment and gasping for breath. The cold horror of that mysterious touch in the dark almost made his heart stand still. He lay motionless and listened, scarcely breathing, but nothing stirred, and there was no sound. He continued to listen and wait during what seemed a long time. But still, still nothing stirred, and there was no sound. So he began to drop into a drowse once more at last. And all at once he felt that mysterious touch again. It was a grisly thing, this light touch from this noiseless and invisible presence. It made the boy sick with ghostly fears. What should he do? That was the question, but he did not know how to answer it. Should he leave these reasonably comfortable quarters and fly from this inscrutable horror? But fly whither he could not get out of the barn, and the idea of scurrying blindly hither and thither in the dark, within the captivity of the four walls with this phantom gliding after him, and visiting him with that soft, hideous touch upon cheek or shoulder at every turn, was into tolerable but to stay where he was and endure this living death all night. Was that better?
- [300:13]
King Henry VIII
No.
- [300:15]
Narrator
What then was there left to do? Ah, there was but one course. He knew it well. He must put out his hand and find that thing. It was easy to think this, but it was hard to brace himself up to try it. Three times he stretched his hand a little way out into the dark bark gingerly, and snatched it suddenly back with a gasp, not because it had encountered anything, but because he had felt so sure it was just going to. But the fourth time he groped a little further and his hand lightly swept against something soft and warm. This petrified him nearly with fright. His mind was in such a state that he could imagine the thing to be nothing else than a corporation corpse, newly dead and still warm. He thought he would rather die than touch it again. But he thought this false thought because he did not know the immortal strength of human curiosity. In no long time his hand was tremblingly groping again, against his judgment and without his consent, but groping persistently on just the same encountered a bunch of of long hair. He shuddered, but followed up the hair and found what seemed to be a warm rope. Followed up the rope and found an innocent calf. For the rope was not a rope at all, but the calf's tail. The king was cordially ashamed of himself for having gotten all that fright and misery out of so paltry a matter as a slumbering calf. But he need not have felt so about it, for it was not the calf that frightened him, but a dreadful non existent something which the calf stood for. And any other boy in those old superstitious times would have acted and suffered just as he had done. The king was not only delighted to find that the creature was only a calf, but delighted to have the calf's company, for he had been feeling so lonesome and friendless that the company and comradesh of even this humble animal were welcome. And he had been so buffeted, so rudely entreated by his own kind, that it was a real comfort to him to feel that he was at last in the society of a fellow creature that had at least a soft heart and a gentle spirit, whatever loftier attributes might be lacking. So he resolved to wave rank and make friends with the calf, while stroking its sleek, warm back, for it lay near him and within easy reach. It occurred to him that this calf might be utilized in more ways than one. Whereupon he rearranged his bed, spreading it down close to the calf. Then he cuddled himself up to the calf's back drew the covers up over himself and his friend, and in a minute or two was as warm and comfortable as he had ever been in the downy couches of the regal palace of Westminster. Pleasant thoughts came at once. Life took on a cheerfuller seeming. He was free of the bonds of servitude and crime, free of the companionship of base and brutal outlaws. He was warm, he was sheltered. In a word, he was happy. The night wind was rising. It swept by in fitful gusts that made the old barn quake and rattle. Then its forces died down at intervals and went moaning and wailing around corners and projections. But it was all music to the king, now that he was snug and comfortable. Let it blow and rage, let it batter and bang. Let it moan and wail. He might minded it not, he only enjoyed it. He merely snuggled the closer to his friend in a luxury of warm contentment, and drifted blissfully out of consciousness into a deep and dreamless sleep that was full of serenity and peace. The distant dogs howled, the melancholy kine complained, and the winds went on raging whilst furious sheets of rain drove along the roof. But the majesty of England slept on undisturbed, and the calf did the same, it being a simple creature and not easily troubled by storms or embarrassed by sleeping with a king. Chapter 19 of the Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain Twain this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org the Prince and the Pauper Chapter 19 the Prince with the Peasants when the king awoke in the early morning, he found that a wet but thoughtful rat had crept into the place during the night and made a cosy bed for itself in his bosom. Being disturbed now, it scampered away. The boy smiled and poor fool, why so fearful?
- [305:40]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
I'm as forlorn as thou. Twould be a shame in me to hurt the helpless who I am myself so helpless. Moreover, I owe you thanks for a good omen. For when a king has fallen so low that the very rats do make a bed of him, it surely meaneth that his fortunes be upon the turn, since it is plain he can go no lower.
- [306:07]
Narrator
He got up and stepped out of the stall, and just then he heard the sound of children's voices. The barn door opened, and a couple of little girls came in. As soon as they saw him, their talking and laughing ceased, and they stopped and stood still, gazing at him with strong curiosity. They presently began to whisper together. Then they approached nearer and stopped again to gaze and whisper. By and by they gathered courage and began to discuss him aloud.
- [306:40]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
One said, he hath a comely face.
- [306:44]
Narrator
The other added, and pretty hair, but
- [306:49]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
is ill clothed enow, and how starved he looketh.
- [306:54]
Narrator
They came still nearer, sidling shyly around and about him, examining him minutely from all points, as if he were some strange new kind of animal, but warily and watchfully the while, as if they half feared he might be a sort of animal that would bite upon occasion. Finally they halted before him, holding each other's hands for protection, and took a good satisfying stare with their innocent eyes. Then one of them plucked up all her courage and inquired with honest who art thou, boy? I am the King, was the grave answer. The children gave a little start, and their eyes spread themselves wide open, and remained so during a speechless half minute. Then curiosity broke the silence.
- [307:46]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
The king. What king? The King of England.
- [307:52]
Narrator
The children looked at each other, then at him, then at each other again, wonderingly, perplexedly. Then one said, didst hear him, Margery?
- [308:04]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
He said, he is the King. Can that be true?
- [308:08]
Advertisement / Commercial Voice
How can it be else but true, Prissy?
- [308:10]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
Would he say a lie?
- [308:12]
Advertisement / Commercial Voice
For, look you, Prissy, an it were not true, it would be a lie. It surely would be.
- [308:18]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Nothing on it, for all things that
- [308:19]
Advertisement / Commercial Voice
be not true be lies. Thou canst make naught else out of,
- [308:25]
Narrator
was a good tight argument without a leak in it anywhere, and it left Prissy's half doubts not a leg to stand on. She considered a moment, then put the king upon his honour with the simple
- [308:37]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
remark, if thou art truly the King, then I believe thee. I am truly the King.
- [308:45]
Narrator
That settled the matter. His Majesty's royalty was accepted without further question or discussion, and the two little girls began at once to inquire into how he came to be where he was and how he came to be so unroyally clad and whither he was bound, and all about his affairs. It was a mighty relief to him to pour out his troubles where they would not be scoffed at or doubted. So he told his tale with feeling, forgetting even his hunger for the time, and it was received with the deep, deepest, and tenderest sympathy by the gentle little maids. But when he got down to his latest experiences, and they learned how long he had been without food, they cut him short and hurried him away to the farmhouse to find a breakfast for him. The king was cheerful and happy now, and said to himself, when I am
- [309:38]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
come to my own again, I will always honour the little children, remembering how These that trusted me and believed in me in my time of trouble, whilst they that were older and thought themselves wiser mocked at me and held me for a liar.
- [309:57]
Narrator
The children's mother received the king kindly and was full of pity for his forlorn condition. And apparently crazed intellect touched her womanly heart. She was a widow and rather poor. Consequently she had seen trouble enough to enable her to feel for the unfortunate. She imagined that the demented boy had wandered away from his friends or keepers. So she tried to find out whence he had come in order that she might take measures to return him. But all her references to neighboring towns and villages and all her inquiries in the same line went for nothing. The boy's face, and his answers, too, showed that the things she was talking of were not familiar to him. He spoke earnestly and simply about court matters and broke down more than once when speaking of the late king, his father. But whenever the conversation changed to baser topics, he lost interest and became silent. The woman was mightily puzzled, but she did not give up. As she proceeded with her cooking, she set herself to contriving devices to surprise the boy into betraying his real secret. She talked about cattle. He showed no concern. Then about sheep, the same result. So her guess that he had been a shepherd boy was an error. She talked about mills, and about weavers, tinkers, smiths, trades and tradesmen of all sorts, and about bedlam and jails and charitable retreats. But no matter. She was baffled at all points, not altogether either, for she argued that she had narrowed the thing down to domestic service. Yes, she was sure she was on the right track now. He must have been a house servant. So she led up to that. But the result was discouraging. The subject of sweeping appeared to weary him. Fire building failed to stir him. Scrubbing and scouring awoke no enthusiasm. The goodwife touched with a perishing hope, and rather as a matter of form, upon the subject of cooking. To her surprise and her vast delight, the king's face lighted at once.
- [312:15]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Ah.
- [312:16]
Narrator
She had hunted him down at last, she thought. And she was right proud too, of the devious shrewdness and tact which had accomplished it. Her tired tongue got a chance to rest now for the kings, inspired by gnawing hunger and the fragrant smells that came from the sputtering pots and pans, turned itself loose and delivered itself up to such an eloquent dissertation upon certain toothsome dishes that within three minutes the woman said to of a truth, I was right.
- [312:48]
Advertisement / Commercial Voice
He hath holpen in A kitchen.
- [312:51]
Narrator
Then he broadened his bill of fare and discussed it with such appreciation and animation that the good wife said to herself, good lack.
- [313:00]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
How can he know so many dishes
- [313:02]
Advertisement / Commercial Voice
and so fine ones withal? For these belong only upon the tables
- [313:07]
Narrator
of the rich and great.
- [313:09]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Ah, now I see.
- [313:10]
Advertisement / Commercial Voice
Ragged outcast as he is, he must
- [313:12]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
have served in the palace before his reason went astray. Yes, he must have helped in the
- [313:17]
Advertisement / Commercial Voice
very kitchen of the king himself. I will test him.
- [313:23]
Narrator
Full of eagerness to prove her sagacity, she told the king to mind the cooking a moment, hinting that he might manufacture and add a dish or two if he chose. Then she went out of the room and gave her children a sign to follow. Of laughter, the king muttered, another English
- [313:41]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
king hath commissions like to this in bygone time. It is nothing against my dignity to undertake an office of which the great Alfred stooped to assume. But I will try to better serve my trust than he, for he let this cakes ben.
- [314:05]
Narrator
The intent was good, but the performance was not answerable to it, for this king, like the other one, soon fell into deep thinkings concerning his vast affairs, and the same calamity resulted. The cookery got burned, the woman returned in time to save the breakfast from entire destruction, and she promptly brought the king out of his dreams with a brisk and cordial tongue lashing. Then, seeing how troubled he was over his violated trust, she softened at once and was all goodness and gentleness toward him. The boy made a hearty and satisfying meal, and was greatly refreshed and gladdened by it. It was a meal which was distinguished by this curious feature that rank was waived on both sides, yet neither recipient of the favor was aware that it had been extended. The goodwife had intended to feed this young tramp with broken victuals in a corner like any other tramp, or like a dog. But she was so remorseful for the scolding she had given him that she did what she could to atone for it by allowing him to sit at the family table and eat with his betters on ostensible terms of equality with them. And the king on his side was so remorseful for having broken his trust after the family had been so kind to him, that he forced himself to atone for it by humbling himself to the family level, instead of requiring the woman and her children to stand and wait upon him while he occupied their table in the solitary state due to his birth and dignity, it does us all good to unbend sometimes times. This good woman was made happy all the day long by the applauses which she got out of herself for her magnanimous condescension to a tramp. And the King was just as self complacent over his gracious humility toward a humble peasant woman. When breakfast was over, the housewife told the king to wash up the dishes. This command was a staggerer for a moment, and the king came nearer rebelling. But then he said to himself, alfred
- [316:17]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
the Great washed the cakes. Doubtless he would have washed the dishes too, therefore I will essay it.
- [316:26]
Narrator
He made a sufficiently poor job of it, and to his surprise too, for the cleaning of wooden spoons and trenchers had seemed an easy thing to do. It was a tedious and troublesome piece of work, but he finished it at last. He was becoming impatient to get away on his journey. Now, however, he was not to lose this thrifty dame society so easily. She furnished him some little odds and ends of employment, which he got through with after a fair fashion and with some credit. Then she set him and the little girls to paring some winter apples, but he was so awkward at this service that she retired him from it, and gave him a butcher knife to grind. Afterwards she kept him carding wool until he began to think he had laid the good King Alfred about far enough in the shade for the present in the matter of showy menial heroisms that would read picturesquely in story books and histories. And so he was half minded to resign. And when, just after the noonday dinner, the goodwife gave him a basket of kittens to drown, he did resign. At least he was just going to resign, for he felt that he must draw the line somewhere, and it seemed to him that to draw it at kitten drowning was about the right thing, when there was an interruption. The interruption was John Canty with the pedlar's pack on his back, and Hugo. The king discovered these rascals approaching the front gate before they had had a chance to see him. So he said nothing about drawing the line, but took up his basket of kittens and stepped quietly out of the back way. Without a word, he left the creatures in an outhouse and hurried on into a narrow lane at the rear end of chapter 19, Chapter 20 of the Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain. This is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org the Prince and the Pauper Chapter 20 the Prince and the Hermit the high hedge hid him from the house. Now and so, under the impulse of a deadly fright, he let out all his forces and sped toward a wood in the distance. He never looked back until he had almost gained the shelter of the forest. Then he turned and descried two figures in the distance. That was sufficient. He did not wait to scan them critically, but hurried on, never abated his pace till he was far within the twilight depths of the wood. Then he stopped. Being persuaded that he was now tolerably safe, he listened intently. But the stillness was profound and solemn, awful even, and depressing to the spirits. At wide intervals his straining ear did detect sounds, but they were so remote and hollow and mysterious that that they seemed not to be real sounds, but only the moaning and complaining ghosts of departed ones. So the sounds were yet more dreary than the silence which they interrupted. It was his purpose in the beginning to stay where he was the rest of the day. But a chill soon invaded his perspiring body and he was at last obliged to resume movement. In order to get one warm. He struck straight through the forest, hoping to pierce to a road presently. But he was disappointed in this. He travelled on and on, but the farther he went, the denser the wood became. Apparently the gloom began to thicken by and by, and the king realized that the night was coming on. It made him shudder to think of spending it in such an unworthy, uncanny place. So he tried to hurry faster, but he only made the less speed, for he could not now see well enough to choose his steps judiciously. Consequently he kept tripping over roots and tangling himself in vines and briers. And how glad he was when at last he caught the glimmer of a light. He approached it warily, stopping often to look about him and listen. It came from an unglazed window opening in a shabby little hut. He heard a voice now, and felt a disposition to run and hide. But he changed his mind at once, for this voice was praying evidently. He glided to the one window of the hut, raised himself on tiptoe and stole a glance within. The room was small. Its floor was the natural, natural earth, beaten hard by use. In a corner was a bed of rushes and a ragged blanket or two. Near it was a pail, a cup, a basin, and two or three pots and pans. There was a short bench and a three legged stool. On the hearth the remains of a faggot fire were smoldering. Before a shrine, which was lighted by a single candle, knelt an aged man, and on an old wooden box at his side lay an open book and A human skull. The man was of large, bony frame. His hair and whiskers were very long and snowy white. He was clothed in a robe of sheepskins, which reached from his neck to his heels.
- [322:18]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
A holy hamit. Said the king to himself now I am indeed fortunate.
- [322:28]
Narrator
The hermit rose from his knees. The king knocked a deep voice.
- [322:35]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Enter, but leave sin behind, for the ground whereon thou shalt stand is holy.
- [322:43]
Narrator
The king entered and paused. The hermit turned a pair of gleaming, unrestful eyes upon him and said, who art thou? I am the king, came the answer with placid simplicity.
- [323:00]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Welcome, king.
- [323:02]
Narrator
Cried the hermit with enthusiasm. Then, bustling about with feverish activity and
- [323:09]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
constantly saying, welcome, welcome.
- [323:13]
Narrator
He arranged his bench, seated the king on it by the hearth, threw some faggots on the fire, and finally fell to pacing the floor with a nervous stride.
- [323:25]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Welcome. Many have sought sanctuary here, but they were not worthy and were turned away. But the king, who casts his crown away and despises the vain splendours of his office and clothes, his body in rags, to devote his life to holiness and the mortification of the flesh, he is worthy. He is welcome. Here shall he abide all his days till death come.
- [323:53]
Narrator
The king hastened to interrupt and explain. But the hermit paid no attention to him, did not even hear him, apparently, but went right on with his talk with a raised voice and a growing energy.
- [324:07]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
And thou shalt be at peace here. None shall find out thy refuge to disquiet thee with supplications, to return to that empty and foolish life which God had moved thee to abandon. Thou shalt pray here that thou shalt study the book. Thou shalt meditate upon the follies and delusions of this world, and upon the sublimities of the world to come. Thou shalt feed upon crusts and herbs, and scourge thy body with whips daily to the purifying of thy soul. Thou shalt wear a hair shirt next thy skin. Thou shalt drink water only. And thou shalt be at peace, yes, wholly at peace. For whoso comes to seek thee shall go his way again baffled. He shall not find thee. He shall not molest thee.
- [325:01]
Narrator
The old man, still pacing back and forth, ceased to speak aloud and began to mutter. The king seized this opportunity to state his case, and he did it with an eloquence inspired by uneasiness and apprehension. But the hermit went on muttering and gave no heed. And still muttering, he approached the king and said impressively,
- [325:28]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
I will tell you a secret.
- [325:31]
Narrator
He bent down to impart it. But checked himself and assumed a listening attitude. After a moment or two he went on tiptoe to the window opening, put his head out and peered around in the gloaming, then came tiptoeing back again, put his face close down to the
- [325:50]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
king's, and whispered, I am an archangel.
- [325:55]
Narrator
The king started violently and said to
- [325:59]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
himself, would God I were with outlaws again, for, lo, now I am a prisoner of a madman.
- [326:08]
Narrator
His apprehensions were heightened, and they showed plainly in his face. In a low, excited voice, the hermit
- [326:17]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
I see you feel my atmosphere. There's all in your face. None may be in this atmosphere and not be thus affected, for it is the very atmosphere of heaven. I go thither and return in the twinkling of an eye. I was made an archangel on this very spot, it is five years ago, by angels sent from heaven to confer that awful dignity. Their presence filled this place with an intolerable brightness. And they knelt to me, King. Yes, they knelt to me, for I was greater than they. I have walked in the courts of heaven and held speech with the patriarchs. Touch my hand. Be not afraid, touch it. There. Now thou hast touched a hand which has been clasped by Abraham and Isaac and Jacob. For I have walked in the golden courts. I have seen the deity face to face.
- [327:17]
Narrator
He paused to give this speech effect. Then his face suddenly changed and he started to his feet again, saying with angry
- [327:28]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
yes, I am an archangel. A mere archangel. Ay, that might have been pope. It is verily true. I was told it from heaven in a dream 20 years ago. Ah, yes, I was to be Pope, and I should have been pope, for heaven had said it. But the king dissolved my religious house, and I, poor, obscure, unfriended monk, was cast homeless upon the world, robbed of my mighty destiny.
- [328:02]
Narrator
Here he began to mumble again and beat his forehead in futile rage with his fist, now and then articulating a venomous curse, and now and then a
- [328:13]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
pathetic wherefore I am naught but an archangel. Ay, that should have been pope.
- [328:21]
Narrator
So he went on for an hour whilst the poor little king sat and suffered. Then, all at once the old man's frenzy departed, and he became all gentleness. His voice softened. He came down out of his clouds and fell to prattling along so simply and so humanly that he soon won the king's heart completely. The old devotee moved the boy nearer to the fire and made him comfortable, doctored his small bruises and abrasions with a deft and tender hand, and then set about preparing and cooking a supper supper, chatting pleasantly all the time, and occasionally stroking the lad's cheek or patting his head in such a gently caressing way that in a little while all the fear and repulsion inspired by the archangel were changed to reverence and affection for the man. This happy state of things continued while the two ate the supper. Then after a prayer before the shrine, the hermit put the boy to bed in a small adjoining room, tucking him in as snugly and lovingly as a mother might. And so with a parting caress left him and sat down by the fire and began to poke the brands about in an absent and aimless way. Presently he paused, then tapped his forehead several times with his fingers, as if trying to recall some thought which had escaped escaped from his mind. Apparently he was unsuccessful. Now he started quickly up and entered his guest's room and said, thou art king.
- [330:01]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Yes?
- [330:02]
Narrator
Was the response, drowsily uttered.
- [330:06]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
What King?
- [330:09]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Of England.
- [330:12]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Of England. Then Henry is gone.
- [330:16]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Alack, that is so. I am his son.
- [330:22]
Narrator
A black frown settled down upon the hermit's face, and he clenched his bony hands with a vindictive energy. He stood a few moments, breathing fast and swallowing repeatedly, then said in a
- [330:36]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
husky dost know it was he that turned us out into the world, houseless and homeless.
- [330:45]
Narrator
There was no response. The old man bent down and scanned the boy's reposeful face and listened to his placid breathing.
- [330:56]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
He sleeps, sleeps soundly, and the frown
- [331:02]
Narrator
vanished away and gave place to an expression of evil satisfaction. A smile flitted across the dreaming boy's features.
- [331:11]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
The hermit muttered, so his heart is
- [331:16]
Narrator
happy, and he turned away. He went stealthily about the place, seeking here and there for something now and then, halting to listen now and then jerking his head around and casting a quick glance toward the bed, and always muttering, always mumbling to himself. At last he found what he seemed to want, a rusty old butcher knife and a whetstone. Then he crept to his place by the fire, sat himself down, and began to whet the knife softly on the stone. Still muttering, mumbling, ejaculating, the winds sighed around the lonely place. The mysterious voices of the night from floated by out of the distances. The shining eyes of venturesome mice and rats peered out at the old man from cracks and coverts. But he went on with his work, rapt, absorbed, and noted none of these things. At long intervals he drew his thumb along the edge of his knife and nodded his head with satisfaction.
- [332:23]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
It grows sharper, he said. Yes, it grows sharper.
- [332:30]
Narrator
He took no note of the flight of time, but worked tranquilly on entertaining himself with his thoughts, which broke out occasionally in articulate speech.
- [332:42]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
His father wrought us evil. He destroyed us and is gone down into the eternal fires. Yes, down into the eternal fires. He escaped us. But it was God's will. Yes, it was God's will. We must not repine. But he hath not escaped the fires. No, he hath not escaped the fires. The consuming, unpitying, remorseless fires, and they are everlasting.
- [333:15]
Narrator
And so he wrought, and still wrought, mumbling, chuckling, a low rasping chuckle at times, and at times breaking again into words.
- [333:26]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
It was his father that did it all. I am but an archangel, but for him I should be Pope.
- [333:35]
Narrator
The king stirred. The hermit sprang noiselessly to the bedside and went down upon his knees, bending over the prostrate form with his knife uplifted. The boy stirred again. His eyes came open for an instant, but there was no speculation in them. They saw nothing. The next moment his tranquil breathing showed that his sleep was sound. Once more the hermit watched and listened for a time, keeping his position and scarcely breathing. Then he slowly lowered his arms and presently crept away, saying, it is long past midnight.
- [334:15]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
It is not best that he should cry out, lest by accident some one be passing.
- [334:21]
Narrator
He glided about his hovel, gathering a rag here, a thong there, and another one yonder. Then he returned, and by careful and gentle handling he managed to tie the king's ankles together without waking him. Next he essayed to tie the wrists. He made several attempts to cross them, but the boy always drew one hand or the other away, just as the cord was ready to be applied. But at last, when the archangel was almost ready to despair, the boy crossed his hands himself, and the next moment they were bound. Now a bandage was passed under the sleeper's chin and brought up over his head and tied fast and so softly, so gradually and so deftly were the knots drawn together and compacted, that the boy slept peacefully through it all, without stirring. Chapter 20. Chapter 21 of the Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain this is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org the Prince and the Pauper Chapter 21 Hendon to the Rescue the old man glided away, stooping, stealthy, cattle like, and brought the low bench. He seated himself upon it, half his body in the dim and flickering light and the other half in shadow. And so, with his craving eyes bent upon the slumbering boy, he kept his patient vigil there, heedless of the drift of time, and softly whetted his knife and mumbled and chuckled. And in aspect and attitude he resembled nothing so much much as a grisly, monstrous spider gloating over some hapless insect that lay bound and helpless in his web. After a long while the old man, who was still gazing yet not seeing, his mind having settled into a dreamy abstraction, observed on a sudden that the boy's eyes were open, wide open and staring, staring up in frozen horror at the knife. The smile of a gratified devil crept over the old man's face, and he said, without changing his attitude, or his
- [336:59]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
son of Henry viii, hast thou prayed?
- [337:04]
Narrator
The boy struggled helplessly in his bonds and at the same time forced a smothered sound through his closed jaws, which the hermit chose to inflict, interpret as an affirmative answer to his question.
- [337:18]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Then pray again. Pray the prayer for the dying.
- [337:23]
Narrator
A shudder shook the boy's frame and his face blanched. Then he struggled again to free himself, turning and twisting himself this way and that, tugging frantically, fiercely, desperately but uselessly to burst his fetters. And all the while the old ogre smiled down upon him and nodded his head and placidly whetted his knife, mumbling from time to time.
- [337:50]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
The moments are precious. They are few and precious. Pray the prayer for the dying.
- [337:58]
Narrator
The boy uttered a despairing groan and ceased from his struggles, panting. The tears came, came then, and trickled, one after the other down his face. But this piteous sight wrought no softening effect upon the savage old man. The dawn was coming now. The hermit observed it and spoke up sharply, with a touch of nervous apprehension in his
- [338:24]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
I may not indulge this ecstasy longer. The night is already gone. It seems but a moment. Only a moment. Would it had endured a year. Seed of the church's spoiler, close thy perishing eyes, and thou fearest to look upon.
- [338:44]
Narrator
The rest was lost in inarticulate mutterings. The old man sank upon his knees, his knife in his hand, and bent himself over the moaning boy.
- [338:55]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Hark.
- [338:56]
Narrator
There was a sound of voices near the cabin. The knife dropped from the hermit's hand. He cast a sheepskin over the boy and started up, trembling. The sounds increased, and presently the voices became rough and angry. Then came blows and cries for help. Then a clatter of swift footsteps. Retreating Immediately came a succession of thundering knocks upon the cabin door followed below.
- [339:28]
Miles Hendon
Open and dispatch. In the name of all the devils.
- [339:33]
Narrator
Oh. This was the blessedest sound that had ever made music in the king's ears, for it was Miles Hendon's voice. The hermit, grinding his teeth in impotent rage, moved swiftly out of the bedchamber, closing the door behind him. And straightway the king heard a talk to this effect proceeding from the chapel.
- [339:57]
Miles Hendon
Homage and greeting, reverend sir. Where is the boy? My boy?
- [340:04]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
What boy, friend?
- [340:07]
Miles Hendon
What boy? Lie me no lies, sir. Priest, play me no deceptions. I am not in the humour for it. Near to this place, place I caught the scoundrels who I judged did steal him from me, and I made them confess. They said he was at large again and they had tracked him to your door. They showed me his very footprints. Now palter no more. For look you holy, sir, and thou produce him not. Where is the boy?
- [340:38]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
O good sir, peradventure. You mean the ragged, regal vagrant that tarried here the night? If so, as you take an interest in such as he, know then that I have sent him of an errand. He will be back anon.
- [340:54]
Miles Hendon
How soon? How soon come. Waste not the time. Can I not overtake him? How soon will he be back?
- [341:02]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Thou needst not stir. He will return quickly.
- [341:08]
Miles Hendon
So be it then I will try to wait. But stop. You sent him of an errand. You Verily, this is a lie. He would not go. He would pull thy old beard, an thou didst offer him such an insolence. Thou hast lied, friend, thou hast surely lied. He would not go for thee, nor for any man.
- [341:32]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
For any man? No, haply not. But I am not a man.
- [341:39]
Miles Hendon
What now? A God's name? What art thou then?
- [341:44]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
It is a secret mark thou reveale it not. I am an archangel.
- [341:52]
Narrator
There was a tremendous ejaculation from Miles Hendon, not altogether unprofane, followed by this,
- [342:01]
Miles Hendon
doth well and truly account for his complaisance. Right well, I know he would budge nor hand nor foot in the menial service of any mortal. But lord, even a king must obey when an archangel gives the word of command. Let me sh. What noise was that?
- [342:19]
Narrator
All this while? The little king had been yonder, alternately quaking with terror and trembling with hope. And all the while too, he had thrown all the strength he could into his anguished moanings, constantly expecting them to reach Hendon's ear, but always realizing with bitterness that they failed, or at least made no impression. So this last remark of his servant came as comes a reviving breath from fresh fields to the dying. And he exerted himself once more, and with all his energy, just as the hermit was saying, noise.
- [342:58]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
I Heard only the wind.
- [343:01]
Miles Hendon
Mayhap it was. Yes, doubtless that was it. I have been hearing it faintly all the. There it is again. It is not the wind. What an odd sound. Come, we will hunt it out now.
- [343:16]
Narrator
The king's joy was nearly insupportable. His tired lungs did their utmost, and hopefully too. But the sealed jaws and the muffling sheepskin sadly crippled the effort. Then the poor fellow's heart sank to hear the hermit.
- [343:34]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Ah, it came from without, I think from the copse yonder. Come, I will lead the way.
- [343:43]
Narrator
The king heard the two pass out talking, heard their footsteps die quickly away. Then he was alone with a boding, brooding, awful silence. It seemed an age till he heard the steps and voices approaching again. And this time he heard an added sound, the trampling of hoofs, apparently. Then he heard Hendon.
- [344:06]
Miles Hendon
I will not wait longer. I cannot wait longer. He has lost his way in this thickness wood. Which direction took he? Quick, point it out to me. He.
- [344:17]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
But wait, I will go with thee.
- [344:21]
Miles Hendon
Good, good. Why, truly, thou art better than thy looks. Marry, I do not think there's not another archangel with so right a heart as thine wilt ride. Wilt take the wee donkey? That's for my boy. Oh, wilt thou fork thy holy legs over this ill conditioned slave of a mule that I have provided for myself and had been cheated in too, had he cost but the indifferent sum of a month's usury on a brass farthing led to a tinker out of work.
- [344:50]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
No, ride thy mule and leave thine ass, I am sure, on mine own feet and will walk.
- [344:59]
Miles Hendon
Then prithee, mind the little beast for me, while I take my life in my hands and make what success I may towards mounting the big one.
- [345:07]
Narrator
Then followed a confusion of kicks, cuffs, tramplings and plungings, accompanied by a thunderous intermingling of volleyed curses. And finally a bitter apostrophe to the mule, which must have broken its spirit, for hostilities seemed to cease from that moment with unutterable misery the fettered little king heard the voices and footsteps fade away and die out. All hope forsook him now for the moment. And a dull despair settled down upon his heart.
- [345:40]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
My only friend is deceived and got
- [345:42]
Narrator
rid of, he said.
- [345:45]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
The hermit will return.
- [345:47]
Narrator
And he finished with a gasp, and at once fell to struggling so frantically with his bonds again that he shook off the smothering sheepskin. And now he heard the door open. The sound chilled him to the marrow. Already he seemed to feel the knife at his throat. Horror made him close his eyes, horror made him open them again, and before him stood John Canty and Hugo, he would have said, thank God if his jaws had been free. A moment or two later his limbs were at liberty, and his captors, each gripping him by an arm, were hurrying him with all speed through the forest. Chapter 21. Chapter 22 of the Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org the Prince and the Pauper Chapter 22 A Victim of Treachery Once More King Foo Foo I was roving with the tramps and outlaws, a butt for their coarse jests and dull witted railleries, and sometimes the victim of small spitefulness at the hands of Canty and Hugo. When the ruffler's back was turned, none but Canty and Hugo really disliked him. Some of the others liked him, and all admired his pluck and spirit. During two or three days Hugo, in whose warden charged the king, was, did what he covertly could to make the boy uncomfortable and at night, during the customary orgies, he amused the company by putting small indignities upon him, always as if by accident. Twice he stepped upon the king's toes accidentally, and the king, as became his royalty, was contemptuously unconscious of it, and indifferent different to it. But the third time Hugo entertained himself in that way, the king felled him to the ground with a cudgel, to the prodigious delight of the tribe. Hugo, consumed with anger and shame, sprang up, seized a cudgel, and came at his small adversary in a fury. Instantly a ring was formed around the gladiators, and the betting and cheering began. But poor Hugo stood no chance whatever. His frantic and lubberly prentice work found but a poor market for itself, when pitted against an arm which had been trained by the first masters of Europe in single stick, quarter staff, and every art and trick of swordsmanship, the little king stood alert, but at graceful ease, and caught and turned aside the thick rain of blows with a facility and precision which set the motley onlookers wild with admiration. And every now and then, when his practiced eye detected an opening, and a lightning swift rap upon Hugo's head followed. As a result, the storm of cheers and laughter that swept the place was something wonderful to hear. At the end of 15 minutes Hugo, all battered, bruised, and the target for a piece pitiless bombardment of ridicule slunk from the field, and the unscathed hero of the fight was seized and borne aloft upon the shoulders of the joyous rabble to the place of honor beside the ruffler, where, with vast ceremony, he was crowned King of the Gamecocks, his meaner title being at the same time solemnly cancelled and annulled, and a decree of banishment from the gang pronounced against any who should thenceforth utter it. All attempts to make the king serviceable to the troop had failed. He had stubbornly refused to act. Moreover, he was always trying to escape. He had been thrust into an unwatched kitchen. The first day of his return. He not only came forth empty handed, but tried to rouse the housemates. He was sent out with a tinker to help him at his work. He would not work. Moreover, he threatened the tinker with his own soldering iron. And finally both Hugo and the tinker found their hands full with the mere matter of keeping his from getting away. He delivered the thunders of his royalty upon the heads of all who hampered his liberties or tried to force him to service. He was sent out in Hugo's charge, in company with a slatternly woman and a diseased baby, to beg, but the result was not encouraging. He declined to plead for the mendicants or be a party to their cause in any way. Thus several days went by, and the miseries of this tramping life, and the weariness and sordidness and meanness and vulgarity of it, became gradually and steadily so intolerable to the captive that he began at last to feel that his release from the hermit's knife must prove only a temporary respite from death at best. But at night, in his dreams, these things were forgotten, and he was on his throne and master again. This, of course, intensified the sufferings of the awakening. So the mortifications of each succeeding morning, of the few that passed between his return to bondage and the combat with Hugo, grew bitterer and bitterer and harder and harder to bear. The morning after that combat, Hugo got up with a heart filled with vengeful purposes against the king. He had two plans in particular. One was to inflict upon the lad what would be to his proud spirit and imagined royalty a peculiar humiliation. And if he failed to accomplish this, his other plan was to put a crime of some kind upon the king and then betray him into the implacable clutches of the law. In pursuance of the first plan, he proposed to put a climb upon the King's leg, rightly judging that that would mortify him to the last and perfect degree and as soon as the climb should operate, he meant to get Canty's help and force the king to expose his leg in the highway and beg for alms. Climb was the cant term for a sore artificially created to make a climb. The operator made a paste or poultice of unslaked lime soap and the rust of old iron, and spread it upon a piece of leather, which was then bound tightly upon the leg. This would presently fret off the skin and make the flesh raw and angry looking. Blood was then rubbed upon the limb, which, being fully dried, took on a dark and repulsive colour. Then a bandage of soiled rags was put on in a cleverly careless way, which would allow the hideous ulcer to be seen and move. The compassionate of the passer by Hugo got the help of the tinker, whom the king had cowed with the soldering iron. They took the boy out on a tinkering tramp and as soon as they were out of sight of the camp, they threw him down and the tinker held him while Hugo bound the poultice tight and fast upon his leg. The king raged and stormed and promised to hang the two the moment the scepter was in his hand again. But they kept a firm grip upon him and enjoyed his impotent struggling and jeered at his threats. This continued until the poultice began to bite, and in no long time its work would have been perfected if there had been no interruption. But there was. For about this time the slave who had made the speech denouncing England's laws appeared on the scene and and put an end to the enterprise and stripped off the poultice and bandage. The king wanted to borrow his deliverer's cudgel and warm the jackets of the two rascals on the spot. But the man said no, it would bring trouble. Leave the matter till night. The whole tribe being together, then the outside world would not venture to interfere or interrupt. He marched the party back to camp and reported the affair to the ruffians Muffler, who listened, pondered, and then decided that the king should not be again detailed to beg, since it was plain he was worthy of something higher and better. Wherefore, on the spot he promoted him from the mendicant rank and appointed him to steal. Hugo was overjoyed. He had already tried to make the king steal and failed. But there would be no more trouble of that for sort now. For of course the king would not dream of defying a distinct command delivered directly from headquarters. So he planned a raid for that very afternoon, proposing to get the king in the law's grip in the course of it, and to do it too with such ingenious strategy that it should seem to be accidental and unintentional, for the King of the Game, Cockspur was popular now, and the gang might not deal over gently with an unpopular member who played so serious a treachery upon him as to delivering him over to the common enemy, the law. Very well, all in good time. Hugo strolled off to a neighboring village with his prey, and the two drifted slowly up and down one street after another, the one watching sharply for a sure chance to achieve his evil purpose, and the other watching as sharply for a chance to dart away and get free of his infamous captivity forever. Both threw away some tolerably fair looking opportunities, for both in their secret hearts were resolved to make absolutely sure work this time, and neither meant to allow his fevered desires to seduce him into any venture that had much uncertainty about it. Hugo's chance came first, for at last a woman approached who carried a fat package of some sort in a basket. Hugo's eyes sparkled with sinful pleasure as he said to himself, breath, O my life, and I can but put that upon him.
- [356:50]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Tis good then, and God keep thee,
- [356:52]
Narrator
King of the game cocks. He waited and watched, outwardly patient, but inwardly consuming with excitement, till the woman had passed by and the time was ripe, then said in a low, tarry here till I come again, and darted stealthily after the prey. The king's heart was filled with joy. He could make his escape now if Hugo's gone quest only carried him far enough away, but he was to have no such luck. Hugo crept behind the woman, snatched the package and came running back, wrapping it in an old piece of blanket which he carried on his arm. The hue and cry was raised in a moment by the woman who knew her loss by the lightening of her burden, although she had not seen the pilfering done. Hugo thrust up the bundle into the king's hands without halting, saying, now speed
- [357:50]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
ye after me with the rest and cry, stop, thief. But mind ye lead them astray.
- [357:56]
Narrator
The next moment Hugo turned a corner and darted down a crooked alley, and in another moment or two he lounged into view again, looking innocent and indifferent, and took up a position behind a post to watch results. The insulted king threw the bundle on the ground and the blanket fell away from it just as the woman arrived with an augmenting crowd at her heels. She seized the king's wrist with one hand, snatched up her bundle with the other, and began to pour out a tirade of abuse upon the boy while he struggled without success to free himself from her grip ship. Hugo had seen enough. His enemy was captured, and the law would get him now. So he slipped away, jubilant and chuckling, and wended campwards, framing a judicious version of the matter to give to the Ruffler's crew. As he strode along, the king continued to struggle in the woman's strong grasp, and now and then cried out in
- [359:01]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
vexation, unhand me, thou foolish creature. It was not I that braved thee of thy paltry goods.
- [359:12]
Narrator
The crowd closed around, threatening the king and calling him names. A brawny blacksmith in leather apron and sleeves rolled to his elbows made a reach for him, saying he would trounce him well for a lesson, but just then a long sword flashed in the air and fell with convincing force upon the man's arm, flat side down, the fantastic owner of it remarking pleasantly at
- [359:38]
Miles Hendon
the same marry, good souls, let us proceed gently, not with ill blood and uncharitable words. This is a matter for the law's consideration, not private and unofficial handling. Loose thy hold from the boy, good wife.
- [359:57]
Narrator
The blacksmith averaged the stalwart soldier with a glance, then went muttering away, rubbing his arm. The woman released the boy's wrist reluctantly. The crowd eyed the stranger unlovingly, but prudently closed their mouths. The king sprang to his deliverer's side with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes.
- [360:18]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Except thou hast lagged slowly, but thou comest in good season. Now some oils carve me this rabble to rags.
- [360:30]
Narrator
End of chapter 22. Chapter 23 of the Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org the Prince and the Pauper Chapter 23 the Prince A prisoner Hendon forced back a smile and bent down and whispered in the king's ear, softly,
- [361:12]
Miles Hendon
softly, my prince, wag thy tongue warily. Nay, suffer it not to wag at all. Trust in me. All shall go well in the end.
- [361:23]
Narrator
Then he added to himself, sir Miles,
- [361:27]
Miles Hendon
bless me, I had totally forgot I was a knight. Lord, how marvellous a thing it is the grip his memory does take upon his corporation, quaint and crazy fancies. An empty and foolish title is mine, and yet it is something to have deserved it, for I think it is more honour to be held worthy to be a spectre knight in his kingdom of dreams. And shadows than to be held base enough to be an earl in some of the real kingdoms of this world.
- [361:55]
Narrator
The crowd fell apart to admit a constable who approached and was about to lay his hand upon the king's shoulder
- [362:02]
Miles Hendon
when Hindon said gently, good friend, withhold your hand. He shall go peaceably. I am responsible for that. Lead on. We will follow.
- [362:14]
Narrator
The officer led with the woman and her bundle. Myles and the king followed after with the crowd at their heels. The king was inclined to rebel, but Hendon said to him in a low
- [362:28]
Miles Hendon
reflect, sire, your laws are the wholesome breath of your own royalty. Shall their source resist them, yet require the branches to respect them? Apparently one of these laws has been broken. When the king is on his throne again, can it ever grieve him to remember that when he was seemingly a private person, he loyally thanked the king and the citizen and submitted to his authority?
- [362:53]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Thou art right. Say no more. Thou shalt see that whatsoever the king of England requires a subject to suffer under the law, he will himself suffer while he holdeth the station of a subject.
- [363:09]
Narrator
When the woman was called upon to testify before the justice of the peace, she swore that the small prisoner at the bar was the person who had committed the theft. There was none able to show the contrary, so the king stood convicted. The bundle was now unrolled, and when the contents proved to be a plump little dressed pig, the judge looked troubled, whilst Hendon turned pale and his body was thrilled with an electric shiver of dismay. But the king remained unmoved, protected by his ignorance. The judge meditated during an ominous pause, then turned to the woman with the question, what dost thou hold this property to be worth? The woman curtsied and replied, three shillings
- [364:01]
Advertisement / Commercial Voice
and eightpence, your worship, I could not abate a penny and set forth a value honestly.
- [364:07]
Narrator
The justice glanced around uncomfortably upon the crowd, then nodded to the constable and
- [364:14]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
said, clear the court and close the doors.
- [364:19]
Narrator
It was done. None remained but the two officials, the accused, the accuser and Miles Hendon. This latter was rigid and colorless, and on his forehead big drops of cold sweat gathered, broke, and blended together and trickled down his face. The judge turned to the woman again and said in a compassionate voice, tis
- [364:46]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
a poor ignorant lad, and mayhap was driven hard by hunger. For these be grievous times for the unfortunate, mark you, he hath not an evil face. But when hunger driveth good woman, dost know that when one steals a thing above the value of 13 pence halfpenny, the law saith he shall hang for it.
- [365:08]
Narrator
The little king started wide eyed with consternation, but controlled himself and held his peace. But not so the woman. She sprang to her feet, shaking with fright, and cried out, o good lack,
- [365:23]
Advertisement / Commercial Voice
what have I done?
- [365:25]
Narrator
God a mercy.
- [365:25]
Advertisement / Commercial Voice
I would not hang the poor thing
- [365:27]
Narrator
for the whole world.
- [365:28]
Advertisement / Commercial Voice
Oh, save me from this, your worship.
- [365:32]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
What shall I do?
- [365:32]
Advertisement / Commercial Voice
What can I do?
- [365:35]
Narrator
The justice maintained his judicial composure and simply said, doubtless it is allowable to
- [365:42]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
revise the value, since it has not yet writ upon the record.
- [365:47]
Advertisement / Commercial Voice
Then in God's name, call the pig eightpence, and heaven bless the day that freed my conscience of this awesome thing.
- [365:55]
Narrator
Miles Hendon forgot all decorum in his delight and surprised the king and wounded his dignity by throwing his arms around him and hugging him. The woman made her grateful adieu and started away with her pig. And when the constable opened the door for her, he followed her out into the narrow hall. The justice proceeded to write in his record book. Hendon, always alert, thought he would like to know why the officer followed the woman out. So he slipped softly into the dusky hall and listened. He heard a conversation to this effect.
- [366:37]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
It is a fat pig and promises good eating. I will buy it of thee. Here is the eightpence.
- [366:43]
Advertisement / Commercial Voice
Eightpence indeed. They'll do no such thing. It cost me three shillings and eightpence.
- [366:48]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Good honest coin of the last reign.
- [366:50]
Advertisement / Commercial Voice
That old Harry that's just dead, ne' er touched or tampered with.
- [366:54]
Narrator
A fig for thy eightpence stands the
- [366:58]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
wind in that quarter. Thou wast under oath, and so swore falsely when thou saidst the value was but eightpence. Come straightway back with me before his worship and answer for the crime. And then the lad will hang.
- [367:10]
Narrator
There, there, dear heart.
- [367:11]
Advertisement / Commercial Voice
Say no more. I am content. Give me the eightpence and hold thy peace about the matter.
- [367:18]
Narrator
The woman went off crying. Hendon slipped back into the court room and the constable presently followed. After hiding his prize in some convenient place, the justice wrote a while longer, then read the king a wise and kindly lecture and sentenced him to a short imprisonment in the common jail, to be followed by a public flogging. The astounded king opened his mouth and was probably going to order the good judge to be beheaded on the spot. But he caught a warning sign from Hendon and succeeded in closing his mouth again before he lost anything out of it. Hendon took him by the hand, now made reverence to the justice, and the two departed in the wake of the constable toward the jail. The moment the street was reached, the inflamed monarch halted, snatched away his hand, and exclaimed,
- [368:16]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
dost imagine I will enter the common jail alive?
- [368:22]
Narrator
Handon bent down and said somewhat sharply,
- [368:26]
Miles Hendon
will you trust in me, peace, and forbear to worsen our chances with dangerous speech? What God wills will happen. Thou canst not hurry it, thou canst not alter it. Therefore wait and be patient. Twill be time enow to rail or rejoice when what is to happen has happened.
- [368:48]
Narrator
End of chapter 23. Chapter 24 of the Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org the Prince and the Pauper Chapter 24 the Escape the short winter day was nearly ended. The streets were deserted save for a few random stragglers, and these hurried straight along with the intent look of people who were only anxious to to accomplish their errands as quickly as possible, and then snugly house themselves from the rising wind and the gathering twilight. They looked neither to the right nor to the left. They paid no attention to our party they did not even seem to see them. Edward VI wondered if the spectacle of a king on his way to jail had ever encountered such marvellous indifference before. For by and by, the constable arrived at a deserted market square and proceeded to cross it. When he had reached the middle of it, Hendon laid his hand upon his arm and said in a low bide
- [370:16]
Miles Hendon
a moment, good sir, there is none in hearing, and I would say a word to thee.
- [370:22]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
My duty forbids it, sir. Prithee, hinder me not. The knight comes on.
- [370:27]
Miles Hendon
Stay nevertheless, for the matter concerns thee nearly, turn thy back a moment, and seem not to see. Let this poor lad escape.
- [370:38]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
This to me.
- [370:39]
Miles Hendon
Sir, I arrest thee in nay, be not too hasty. See thou, be careful, and commit no foolish error.
- [370:47]
Narrator
Then he shut his voice down to a whisper, and said in the man's
- [370:53]
Miles Hendon
ear, the pig thou hast purchased for thy eightpence may cost thee thy neck, man.
- [370:59]
Narrator
The poor constable, taken by surprise, was speechless at first, then found his tongue, and fell to blustering and threatening. But Hendon was tranquil, and waited with patience till his breath was spent.
- [371:14]
Miles Hendon
Then said, I have a liking to thee, friend, and would not willingly see thee come to harm. Observe, I heard it all, every word. I will prove it to thee.
- [371:27]
Narrator
Then he repeated the conversation which the officer and the woman had had together in the hall, word for word, and
- [371:34]
Miles Hendon
ended with There have I set it forth correctly. Should I Not be able to set it forth correctly before the judge if occasion required.
- [371:46]
Narrator
The man was dumb with fear and distress for a moment. Then he rallied and said with forced
- [371:53]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
lightness, tis making a mighty matter indeed, out of a jest. I but plagued the woman for mine amusement.
- [372:00]
Miles Hendon
Kept you the woman's pig for amusement?
- [372:04]
Narrator
The man answered sharply.
- [372:07]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
Nought else, good sir, I tell thee, twas but a jest.
- [372:11]
Miles Hendon
I do begin to believe thee, said
- [372:14]
Narrator
Handon, with a perplexing mixture of mockery and half conviction in his tone, but
- [372:21]
Miles Hendon
tarry thou here a moment whilst I run, and ask his worship for Nathalis, he being a man experienced in law, in jest, in.
- [372:30]
Narrator
He was moving away, still talking. The constable hesitated, fidgeted, spat out an oath or two, then cried out, hold, hold.
- [372:40]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
Good sir, prithee, wait a little. The judge. Why, man, he hath no more sympathy with the jest than hath a dead corpse. Come, and we'll speak further. Oddsbody, I seem to be an evil case, and all for an innocent and thoughtless pleasantry. I am a man of family, and my wife and little ones list to reason, Good your worship, what wouldst thou of know me?
- [373:01]
Miles Hendon
Only that thou be blind and dumb and paralytic, whilst one may count a hundred thousand.
- [373:07]
Narrator
Counting slowly, said Hendon, with the expression of a man who asks but a reasonable favour, and that a very little one. It is my destruction, said the constable despairingly.
- [373:22]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
Ah, be reasonable, good sir. Only look at this matter on all its sides and see how mere a jest it is, how manifestly and how plainly it is so. And even if one grant it, it were not a jest. It is a fault so small that e' en the grimmest penalty it could call forth would be but a rebuke and warning from the judge's lips.
- [373:40]
Narrator
Hendon replied with a solemnity which chilled the air about him.
- [373:45]
Miles Hendon
This jest of thine hath a name in law. Wot you what it is?
- [373:52]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
I knew it not. Peradventure, I have been unwise. I never dreamed it had a name. Ah, sweet heaven. I thought it was original.
- [374:00]
Miles Hendon
Oh, yes, it hath a name. In the law this crime is called non culpus menti lex talionis, sic transit gloria mundi.
- [374:12]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
Ah, my God.
- [374:14]
Miles Hendon
And the penalty is death.
- [374:18]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
God be merciful to me.
- [374:19]
Miles Hendon
A sinner by advantage taken of one in fault, in dire peril, and at thy mercy thou hast seized goods worth above 13 pence ha', penny, paying but a trifle for the same. And this in the eye of the Law is constructive baratry, misprisonin of treason, malfeasance in office, ad hominem ex burgitas instaturated, and the penalty is death by the halter, without ransom, commutation, or benefit of clergy.
- [374:52]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
Bear me up. Bear me up. Sweet sir, my legs do fail me. Be thou merciful, spare me this doom, and I will turn my back and see nought that shall happen.
- [375:02]
Miles Hendon
Good. Now thou' RT wise and reasonable, and thou' LT restore the piglet.
- [375:09]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
I will, I will indeed. Nor ever touch another, though heaven send it, and an archangel fetch it. Go. I am blind for thy sake. I see nothing. I will say thou didst break in and wrest the prisoner from my hands by force. It is but a crazy ancient door. I will batter it down myself betwixt midnight and the morning.
- [375:28]
Miles Hendon
Do it, good soul, no harm will come of it. The judge hath a loving charity for this poor lad, and will shed no tears, and break no jailer's bones for his escape.
- [375:40]
Narrator
End of chapter 24. Chapter 25 of the Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org the Prince and the Pauper Chapter 25 Hendon hall as soon as Hindon and the King were out of sight of the constable, His Majesty was instructed to hurry to a certain place outside the town and wait there, whilst Hindon should go to the inn and settle his account. Half an hour later the two friends were blithely jogging eastward on Hindon's sorry steeds. The King was warm and comfortable now, for he had cast his rags and clothed himself in the second hand suit which Hindon had bought on London Bridge. Hindon wished to guard against over fatiguing the boy. He judged that hard journeys, irregular meals, and illiberal measures of sleep would be bad for his creature crazed mind, whilst rest, regularity, and moderate exercise would be pretty sure to hasten its cure. He longed to see the stricken intellect made well again, and its diseased visions driven out of the tormented little head. Therefore he resolved to move by easy stages toward the home whence he had so long been banished. Instead of obeying the impulse of his impatience and hurrying along night and day, when he and the King had journeyed about 10 miles, they reached a considerable village, and halted there for the night. At a good inn, the former relations were resumed. Hendon stood behind the King's chair while he dined and waited upon him, undressed him when he was ready for bed, then took the floor for his own quarters and slept athwart the door rolled up in a blanket. The next day, and the day after, they jogged lazily along, talking over the adventures they had met since their separation and mightily enjoying each other's narratives. Hendon detailed all his wide wanderings in search of the king and described how the archangel had led him a fool's journey all over the forest and taken him back to to the hut. Finally, when he found he could not get rid of him, then he said, the old man went into the bedchamber and came staggering back, looking broken hearted and saying he had expected to find that the boy had returned and laid down in there to rest. But it was not so. Hindon had waited at the hut all day. Hope of the King's return died out then and he departed upon the quest again.
- [378:45]
Miles Hendon
And old sanctum suctorum was truly sorry your highness came not back, said Hindon. I saw it in his face.
- [378:56]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Marry, I will never doubt that, said
- [379:00]
Narrator
the king, and then told his own story, after which Hindon was sorry he had not destroyed the archangel. During the last day of the trip, Hindon's spirits were soaring, his tongue ran constantly. He talked about his old father and his brother Arthur, and told of many things which illustrated their high and generous characters. He went into loving frenzies over his Edith, and was so glad hearted that he was even able to say some gentle and brotherly things about Hugh. He dwelt a deal on the coming meeting at Hindon Hall. What a surprise it would be to everybody, and what an outburst of thanksgiving and delight there would be. It was a fair region, dotted with cottages and orchards, and the road led through broad pasture lands whose receding expanses, marked with gentle elevations and depressions, suggested the swelling and subsiding undulations of the sea. In the afternoon the returning prodigal made constant deflections from his course to see if by ascending some hillock he might not pierce the distance and catch a glimpse of his home. At last he was successful and cried
- [380:20]
Miles Hendon
out, there is the village, my prince. And there is the hall close by. You may see the towers from here. And that wood there, that is my father's park. Ah, now thou know what state and grandeur be a house with 70 rooms. Think of that, and seven and 20 servants. A brave lodging for such as we. Is it not so? Come, let us speed. My impatience will not brook further delay.
- [380:51]
Narrator
All possible hurry was made. Still it was after 3 o' clock before the village was reached. The travelers scampered through it, Hendon's tongue going all the time.
- [381:03]
Miles Hendon
Here is the church, covered with the same ivy. None gone, none added. Yonder is the inn, the old Red lion, and yonder is the market place. Here is the maypole, and here the pump. Nothing is altered, Nothing but the people, at any rate. 10 years make a change in people. Some of these I seem to know, but none know me.
- [381:29]
Narrator
So his chat ran on. The end of the village was soon reached. Then the travelers struck into a crooked narrow road walled in with tall hedges, and hurried briskly along it for half a mile, then passed into a vast flower garden through an imposing gateway whose huge stone. Stone pillars bore sculptured armorial devices. A noble mansion was before them.
- [381:57]
Miles Hendon
Welcome to Hendon hall, my king.
- [382:00]
Narrator
Exclaimed Myles.
- [382:02]
Miles Hendon
Ah. Tis a great day. My father and my brother and Lady Edith will be so mad with joy that they will have eyes and tongue for none but me in the first transports of the meeting. And so thou' LT seem, but quite coldly welcomed. But mind it not, twill soon seem otherwise. For when I say thou art my ward and tell them how costly is my love for thee, thou' lt see them take thee to thy breast for Miles Hendon's sake, and make their house and hearts thy home for ever.
- [382:33]
Narrator
After the next moment, Hendon sprang to the ground before the great door, helped the king down, then took him by the hand and rushed within. A few steps brought him to a spacious apartment. He entered, seated the king with more hurry than ceremony, then ran toward a young man who sat at a writing table in front of a generous fire of logs.
- [383:00]
Miles Hendon
Embrace me, Hugh, he cried, and say thou art glad I am. Come again and call our father, for home is not home till I shall touch his hand and see his face and hear his voice once more.
- [383:14]
Narrator
But Hugh only drew back after betraying a momentary surprise and bent a grave stare upon the intruder, a stare which indicated somewhat of offended dignity at first, then changed in response to some inward thought or purpose, to an expression of marvelling curiosity mixed with a real or assumed compassion. Presently he said in a mild voice,
- [383:42]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
thy wits seem touched, poor stranger. Doubtless thou hast suffered privations and rude buffetings of the world's hands. Thy looks and dress betoken it. Whom dost thou take me to be?
- [383:57]
Miles Hendon
Take thee? Prithee, for whom else than whom thou art?
- [384:01]
Narrator
I take thee to be Hugh Hendon said Miles sharply. The other continued in the same soft tone.
- [384:10]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
And whom dost thou imagine thyself to be.
- [384:14]
Miles Hendon
Imagination hath nothing to do with it. Dost thou pretend thou knowest me not for thy brother Miles Hendon?
- [384:23]
Narrator
An expression of pleased surprise flitted across Hugh's face and he exclaimed, what?
- [384:30]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Thou art not jesting? Can the dead come to life? God be praised. If it be so, our poor lost boy restores her arms after all these cruel years. It seems too good to be true. It is too good to be true. I charge thee, have pity. Do not trifle with me. Quick, come to the light. Let me scan thee well.
- [384:58]
Narrator
He seized Miles by the arm, dragged him to the window and began to devour him from head to foot with his eyes, turning him this way and that, and stepping briskly around him and about him to prove him from all points of view. Whilst the returned prodigal, all aglow with gladness, smiled, laughed and kept nodding his head and saying, go on, brother, go on.
- [385:23]
Miles Hendon
And fear not. Thou' LT find nor limb nor feature that cannot bide the test. Scour and scan me to thy content, my good old Hugh. I am indeed thy old Myles. Thy same old Myles. Thy lost brother is not so. Ah, tis a great day, I said. Twas a great day. Give me thy hand. Give me thy cheek. Lord, I am like to die of very joy.
- [385:51]
Narrator
He was about to throw himself upon his brother, but Hugh put up his hand in dissent, then dropped his chin mournfully upon his breast, saying with emotion,
- [386:03]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
ah, God of his mercy, give me strength to bear this grievous disappointment.
- [386:09]
Narrator
Miles, amazed, could not speak for a moment. Then he found his tongue and cried out, what disappointment?
- [386:18]
Miles Hendon
Am I not thy brother?
- [386:21]
Narrator
Hugh shook his head sadly and said,
- [386:24]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
I pray heaven it may prove so, and that other eyes may find the resemblances that are hid from mine. Alack, I fear me. The letter spoke but too truly.
- [386:36]
Miles Hendon
What letter?
- [386:38]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
One that came from over sea some six or seven years ago. It said my brother died in battle.
- [386:47]
Miles Hendon
It was a lie. Call thy father. He will know me.
- [386:52]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
One may not call the dead dead.
- [386:57]
Narrator
Myles voice was subdued and his lips trembled.
- [387:03]
Miles Hendon
My father dead. Oh, this is heavy news. Half of my new joy is withered now. Prithee, let me see my brother Arthur. He will know me. He will know me and console me.
- [387:17]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
He also is dead.
- [387:21]
Miles Hendon
God be merciful to me. A stricken man gone. Both gone. The worthy taken and the worthless spared. And me? Oh, I crave your mercy. Do not say the Lady Edith is dead.
- [387:38]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
No, she lives.
- [387:40]
Miles Hendon
Oh, then God be praised. My joy is whole again. Speed thee brother. Let her come to me. And she say, I am not myself. But she will not. No, no, she will know me. I were a fool to doubt it. Bring her. Bring the old servants.
- [387:57]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
They turn.
- [387:57]
Miles Hendon
Two will know me.
- [387:59]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
All are gone but five. Peter, Halsey, David, Bernard, and Margaret.
- [388:08]
Narrator
So saying, Hugh left the room. Miles stood musing a while, then began to walk the floor, muttering.
- [388:17]
Miles Hendon
The five arch villains have survived the 2 and 20, Leal and Honest. Tis an odd thing.
- [388:25]
Narrator
He continued walking back and forth, muttering to himself. He had forgotten the king entirely. By and by, His Majesty said gravely and with a touch of genuine compassion, though the words themselves were capable of
- [388:39]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
being interpreted, mind not thy mischance, good man. There be others in the world whose identity is denied and whose claims are deroided. Thou hast company.
- [388:54]
Miles Hendon
Ah, my king.
- [388:56]
Narrator
Cried Hindon, colouring slightly.
- [388:59]
Miles Hendon
Do not thou condemn me. Wait and thou shalt see I am no impostor. She will say it. You shall hear it from the sweetest lips in England. I, an impostor? Why, I know this old hall, these pictures of my ancestors, and all these things that are about us as a child knoweth its own nursery. Here was I born and bred. My lord, I speak the truth. I would not deceive thee. And should none else believe, I pray thee, do not thou doubt me. I could not bear it.
- [389:31]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
I do not doubt thee, said the
- [389:33]
Narrator
king, with a childlike simplicity and faith.
- [389:38]
Miles Hendon
I thank thee out of my heart.
- [389:40]
Narrator
Exclaimed Hindon with a fervency which showed that he was touched. The king added with the same gentle
- [389:49]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
dost thou doubt me?
- [389:53]
Narrator
A guilty confusion seized upon Hendon, and he was grateful that the door opened to admit Hugh at that moment and saved him the necessity of replying. A beautiful lady, richly clothed, followed Hugh, and after her came several liveried servants. The lady walked slowly, with her head bowed and her eyes fixed upon the floor. The face was unspeakably sad. Miles Hendon sprang forward, crying, oh, my Edith, my darling. But Hugh waved him back gravely and said to the lady, look upon him.
- [390:33]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Do you know him?
- [390:36]
Narrator
At the sound of Myles voice, the woman had started slightly and her cheeks had flushed. She was trembling now. She stood still during an impressive pause of several moments, then slowly lifted up her head and looked into Hendon's eyes with a stony and frightened gaze. The blood sank out of her face drop by drop, till nothing remained but the gray pallor of death. Then she said in a voice as dead as the face, I know him not, and turned with a moan and a stifled sob and tottered out of the room. Miles Hindon sank into a chair and covered his face with his hands. After a pause his brother said to
- [391:22]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
the servants, you have observed him? Do you know him?
- [391:28]
Narrator
They shook their heads. Then the master, the servants know you not.
- [391:33]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Sir, I fear there's some mistake. You have seen that my wife, do you not?
- [391:40]
Miles Hendon
Thy wife.
- [391:43]
Narrator
In an instant Hugh was pinned to the wall with an iron grip about his throat.
- [391:50]
Miles Hendon
O thou fox hearted slave. I see it all. Thou hast writ the lying letter. Thyself and my stolen bride and goods are its fruit. There now get thee gone, lest I shame mine honourable soldiership for the slaying of so pitiful a manikin.
- [392:07]
Narrator
Hugh, red faced and almost suffocated, reeled to the nearest chair and commanded the servants to seize and bind the murderous stranger. They hesitated. And one of them he is armed,
- [392:21]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Sir Hugh, and we are weaponless.
- [392:24]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Armed.
- [392:26]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
What of it? And ye so many upon him, I say.
- [392:31]
Narrator
But Myles warned them to be careful what they did, and added, ye know
- [392:36]
Miles Hendon
me of old, I have not changed. Come on.
- [392:40]
Narrator
And if, like you, this reminder did not hearten the servants much, they still held back.
- [392:48]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Then go, ye paltry cowards, and arm yourselves and guard the doors whilst I sin.
- [392:53]
Narrator
Will one to fetch the watch, said Hugh. He turned at the threshold and said to Miles, you'll find it to your
- [393:01]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
advantage to offend not with useless endeavours at escape.
- [393:05]
Miles Hendon
Escape. Spare thyself discomfort and that is all that troubles thee. For Miles Hendon is master of Hendon hall and all its belongings. He will remain, doubt it not.
- [393:19]
Narrator
End of chapter 25. Chapter 26 of the Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org the Prince and the Pauper Chapter 26 disowned the King sat musing a few moments, then looked up and
- [393:56]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
said, tis strange, most strange. I cannot account for it.
- [394:03]
Miles Hendon
No, it is not strange, my liege. I know him, and this conduct is but natural. He was a rascal from his birth.
- [394:14]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Oh, I spake not of him, sir Miles.
- [394:19]
Miles Hendon
Not of him, then of what? What is it that is strange?
- [394:25]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
That the king is not missed?
- [394:29]
Miles Hendon
How? Which I doubt, I do not understand.
- [394:34]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Indeed, does it not strike you as being passing strange that the land is not filled with couriers and proclamations describing my person and making a search for me? Is it no matter for commotion and distress that the head of state is gone? That I am vanished away and lost?
- [394:57]
Miles Hendon
Most true, my king.
- [394:59]
Narrator
I Had forgotten, then hand inside and muttered to himself, poor ruined mind, still
- [395:07]
Miles Hendon
busy with its pathetic dream.
- [395:11]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
But I have a plan that shall write us both. I will write a paper in three tongues, Latin, Greek and English. And thou shalt haste away with it to London in the morning, give it to none but my uncle, Lord Hertford. Then he shall see it, and he will know and say that I wrote it. Then he will send for me.
- [395:36]
Miles Hendon
Might it not be best, my Prince, that we wait here until I prove myself and make my rights secure to my domains? I should be so much the better able than to.
- [395:47]
Narrator
The King interrupted him imperiously.
- [395:50]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Peace. What are thy paltry demands? Thy trivial interest contrast with matters which concern the weal of the nation and the integrity of a throne.
- [396:06]
Narrator
Then he added in a gentle voice, as if he were sorry for his
- [396:10]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
severity, obey and do not fear. I will right thee. I will make thee whole. Yes, more than whole. I shall remember and requite.
- [396:24]
Narrator
So saying, he took the pen and set himself to work. Hendon contemplated him lovingly awhile, then said
- [396:33]
Miles Hendon
to himself, and were it dark, I should think it was a king that spoke. There's no denying it. When the humour's upon him, he doth thunder and lightning like your true king. Now where got he that trick? See him scribble and scratch away contentedly at his meaningless pothooks, fancying them to be Latin and Greek. And except my wit shall serve me with a lucky device for diverting him from his purpose, I shall be forced to pretend to post away to morrow on this wild errand he hath invented for me.
- [397:06]
Narrator
The next moment, Sir Miles's thoughts had gone back to the recent episode. So absorbed by was he in his musings, that when the King presently handed him the paper which he had been writing, he received it and pocketed it without being conscious of the act.
- [397:24]
Miles Hendon
How marvellous strange she acted. He muttered, I think she knew me. And I think she did not know me. These opinions do conflict. I perceive it plainly. I cannot reconcile them. Neither can I by argument dismiss either of the two, or even persuade one to outweigh the other. The matter standeth simply. Thus, she must have known my face, my figure, my voice, for how could it be otherwise? Yet she said she knew me not, and that is proof perfect, for she cannot lie. But stop. I think I begin to see peradventure. He hath influenced her, commanded her, compelled her to lie. That is the solution. The riddle is unriddled. She seemed dead with fear. Yes, she was under his compulsion. I will seek Her. I will find her. Now that he is away, she will speak her true mind. She will remember the old times when we were but little playfellows together and this will soften her heart. And she will no more betray me, but will confess me. There is no treacherous blood in her. No. She was always honest and true. She has loved me in those old days. This is my security. For whom one has loved, one cannot betray.
- [398:49]
Narrator
He stepped eagerly toward the door. At that moment it opened and the Lady Edith entered. She was very pale, but she walked with a firm step and her carriage was full of grace and gentle dignity. Her face was as sad as before. Miles sprang forward with a happy confidence to meet her, but she checked him with a hardly perceptible gesture and he stopped where he was. She seated herself and asked him to do likewise. Thus simply did she take the sense of old command, comradeship out of him and transform him into a stranger and a guest. The surprise of it, the bewildering unexpectedness of it, made him begin to question for a moment if he was the person he was pretending to be after all, the Lady Edith.
- [399:44]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Sir, I have come to warn you.
- [399:46]
Advertisement / Commercial Voice
The mad cannot be persuaded out of
- [399:48]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
their delusions perchance but doubtless they may be persuaded to avoid perils. I think this dream of yours hath the seeming of honest truth to you and therefore is not criminal. But do not tarry here with it, for here it is dangerous.
- [400:06]
Narrator
She looked steadily into Myles's face a moment, then added impressively, it is the
- [400:13]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
more dangerous for that. You are much like what our lost lad must have grown to be if he had lived.
- [400:20]
Miles Hendon
Heavens, madam, but I am he.
- [400:24]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
I truly think you think it, sir. I question not your honesty in that. But I warn you, that is all. My husband is master in this region. His power hath hardly any limit. The people prosper or starve as he wills. If you resembled not the man whom you profess to be my husband might bid you pleasure yourself with your dream in peace. But trust me, I know him well. I know what he will do. He will say to all that you are but a mad impostor and straightway all will echo him.
- [400:59]
Narrator
She bent upon Miles that same steady look once more and added, if you
- [401:05]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
were Miles Hendon and he knew it and all the region knew it, consider what I am saying. Weigh it well. You would stand in the same peril. Your punishment would be no less sure. He would deny you and denounce you and none would be bold enough to give you countenance.
- [401:26]
Miles Hendon
Most truly, I believe it, said Miles bitterly, the power that can command one lifelong friend to betray and disown another and be obeyed may well look to be obeyed in quarters where bread and life are on the stake and no cobweb ties of loyalty and honour are concerned.
- [401:47]
Narrator
A faint tinge appeared for a moment in the lady's cheek, and she dropped her eyes to the floor. But her voice betrayed no emotion when she I have warned you.
- [402:00]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
I must still warn you to go hence. This man will destroy you, else he is a tyrant who knows no pity. I, who am his fettered slave, know this. Poor Miles and Arthur and my dear guardian Sir Richard, are free of him and at rest. Better that you were with them than that you bide here in the clutches of this miscreant. Your pretensions are a menace to his title and possessions. You have assaulted him in his own house. You are ruined if you stay. Go. Do not hesitate. If you lack money, take this purse, I beg of you, and bribe the servants to let you pass. Oh, be warned, poor soul, and escape while you may.
- [402:45]
Narrator
Miles declined the purse with a gesture and rose up and stood before her.
- [402:52]
Miles Hendon
Grant me one thing, he said. Let your eyes rest upon mine, so that I may see if they be steady there. Now answer me. Am I Miles Hendon?
- [403:08]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
No. I know you not.
- [403:11]
Miles Hendon
Swear it.
- [403:14]
Narrator
The answer was low but distinct.
- [403:17]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
I swear.
- [403:19]
Miles Hendon
Oh, this passes belief.
- [403:23]
Advertisement / Commercial Voice
Fly. Why will you waste the precious time?
- [403:26]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Fly and save yourself.
- [403:29]
Narrator
At that moment the officers burst into the room and a violent struggle began, but Hendon was soon overpowered and dragged away. The King was taken also, and both were bound and led to prison. End of chapter 26. Chapter 27 of the Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org the Prince and the Pop Proper Chapter 27 in prison the cells were all crowded, so the two friends were chained in a large room where persons charged with trifling offences were commonly kept. They had company, for there were some 20 manacled and fettered prisoners here of both sexes and of varying ages. An obscene and noisy gang. The King chafed bitterly over the stupendous indignity thus put upon his royalty. But Hindon was moody and taciturn. He was pretty thoroughly bewildered. He had come home a jubilant prodigal, expecting to find everybody wild with joy over his return, and instead had got the cold shoulder and a jail, the promise and the fulfilment differed so widely that the effect effect was stunning. He could not decide whether it was most tragic or most grotesque. He felt much as a man might who had danced blithely out to enjoy a rainbow and got struck by lightning. But gradually his confused and tormenting thoughts settled down into some sort of order, and then his mind centered itself upon Edith. He turned her conduct over and examined it in all lights, but he could not make anything satisfactory out of it. Did she know him, or didn't she know him? It was a perplexing puzzle and occupied him a long time, but he ended finally with the conviction that she did know him and had repudiated him for interested reasons. He wanted to load her name with curses now, but this name had so long been sacred to him that he found he could not bring his tongue to profane it. Wrapped in prison blankets of a soiled and tattered condition, Hendon and the king passed a troubled night. For a bribe, the jailer had furnished liquor to some of the prisoners. Singing of ribald songs, fighting, shouting and carousing was the natural consequence. At last, a while after midnight, a man attacked a woman and nearly killed her by beating her over the head with his manacles. Before the jailer could come to the rescue, the jailer restored peace by giving the man a sound clubbing about the head and shoulders. Then the carousing ceased, and after that all had an opportunity to sleep who did not mind the annoyance of the moanings and groanings of the two wounded people. During the ensuing week, the days and nights were of a monotonous sameness. As to events. Men whose faces Hindon remembered more or less distinctly came by day to gaze at the impostor and repudiate and insult him. And by night the carousing and brawling went on with symmetrical regularity. However, there was a change of incident. At last the jailer brought in an old man and said to the villain
- [407:30]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
is in this room. Cast thy old eyes about and see if thou canst say which is.
- [407:35]
Narrator
Hendon glanced up and experienced a pleasant sensation. For the first time since he had been in the jail, he said to
- [407:44]
Miles Hendon
himself, this is Blake Andrews, a servant all his life in my father's family. A good, honest soul with a right heart in his breast. That is formerly, but none are true. Now all are liars. This man will know me and will deny me too, like the rest.
- [408:06]
Narrator
The old man gazed around the room, glanced at each face in turn, and finally said, I see none here but
- [408:14]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
paltry knaves, scum of the streets. Which is he?
- [408:20]
Narrator
The jailer laughed.
- [408:23]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
Here, he said, scan this big animal and grant me an opinion.
- [408:29]
Narrator
The old man approached and looked Hendon over long and earnestly, then shook his
- [408:35]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
head and marry, this is no Hendon, nor ever was
- [408:42]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
right. Thy old eyes are sound yet. And I were Sir Hugh, I would take the shabby carle.
- [408:47]
Narrator
And the jailer finished by lifting himself a tiptoe with an imaginary halter at the same time making a gurgling noise in his throat suggestive of suffocation. The old man said, let him bless
- [409:03]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
God and he fare no worse and I at the handling of the villainy should roast, or I am no true man.
- [409:11]
Narrator
The jailer laughed a pleasant hyena. Laugh and give him a piece of
- [409:16]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
thy mind, old man. They'll do it. Thou' lt find it good diversion.
- [409:21]
Narrator
Then he sauntered toward his anteroom and disappeared. The old man dropped upon his knees and God be thanked, thou art come again, my master.
- [409:32]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
I believed thou wert dead these seven years and lo, here thou art alive. I knew thee the moment I saw thee and main hard work it was to keep a stony countenance and seem to see none here but twopenny knaves and rubbish of the streets. I am old and poor, Sir Myles, but say the word, and I will go forth and proclaim the truth, though I be strangled for it.
- [409:54]
Miles Hendon
No, said Hendon, thou shalt not it would ruin thee, and yet help but little in my cause. But I thank thee, for thou hast given me back somewhat of my lost faith in my kind.
- [410:11]
Narrator
The old servant became very valuable to Hindon and the king, for he dropped in several times a day to abuse the former and always smuggled in a few delicacies to help out the the prison bill of fare. He also furnished the current news. Hendon reserved the dainties for the King. Without them His Majesty might not have survived, for he was not able to eat the coarse and wretched food provided by the jailer. Andrews was obliged to confine himself to brief visits in order to avoid suspicion. But he managed to impart a fair degree of information each time. Time information delivered in a low voice for Hindon's benefit and interlarded with insulting epithets, delivered in a louder voice for the benefit of other hearers. So little by little the story of the family came out. Arthur had been dead six years. This loss, with the absence of news from Hinton, impaired the father's health. He believed he was going to die, and he wished to see Hugh and Edith settled in life before he passed away, but Edith begged hard for delay, hoping for Miles's return. Then the letter came which brought the news of Miles's death. The shock prostrated Sir Richard. He believed his end was very near, and he and Hugh insisted upon the marriage. Edith begged for and obtained a month's respite. Respite, then another, and finally a third. The marriage then took place by the death bed of Sir Richard. It had not proved a happy one. It was whispered about the country that shortly after the nuptials the bride found among her husband's papers several rough and incomplete drafts of the fatal letter and had accused him of precipitating the marriage and Sir Richard's death too, by a wicked forgery. Tales of cruelty to the Lady Edith and the servants were to be heard on all hands. And since the father's death, Sir Hugh had thrown off all soft disguises and become a pitiless master toward all who in any way depended upon him and his domains for bread. There was a bit of Andrew's gossip, which the King listened to with a lively interest.
- [412:37]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
There is rumour that the King is mad, but in charity forbear to say I mentioned it, for tis death to speak of it.
- [412:45]
Narrator
They say His Majesty glared at the old man and said, the King is
- [412:52]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
not mad, good sir, and thou wilt find thy advantage to busy thy myself with matters that nearer concern thee than this singios petrel.
- [413:06]
Narrator
What does the lad mean? Said Andrews, surprised at this brisk assault from such an unexpected quarter. Hendon gave him a sign, and he did not pursue his question, but went on with his budget.
- [413:22]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
The light King is to be buried at Windsor in a day or two, the 16th of the month, and the new King will be crowned at Westminster the 20th.
- [413:31]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Methinks they must find him first, muttered
- [413:35]
Narrator
His Majesty, then added confidently, but they
- [413:40]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
will look on that, and so also shall I.
- [413:45]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
In the name of.
- [413:47]
Narrator
But the old man got no further. A warning sign from Hindon checked his remark dark, he resumed the thread of his gossip.
- [413:57]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Sir Hugh goeth to the coronation, and with grand hopes he confidently looketh to come back a peer, for he is high in favour with the Lord Protector.
- [414:06]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
What Lord Protector?
- [414:09]
Narrator
Asked His Majesty is Grace the Duke of Somerset.
- [414:15]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
What Duke of Somerset?
- [414:19]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Marry, there is but one Seymour, the Earl of Hertford.
- [414:24]
Narrator
The King asked sharply, since when is
- [414:28]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
he a Duke and Lord Protector?
- [414:33]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Since the last day of January.
- [414:36]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
And prithee, who made him so himself
- [414:40]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
in the great council? With help of the King.
- [414:45]
Narrator
His Majesty started violently.
- [414:48]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
The King.
- [414:50]
Narrator
He cried.
- [414:51]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
What King?
- [414:52]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Good sir, what King, indeed. God of mercy. What aileth the boy sith we have but one. Tis not difficult to answer. His most sacred Majesty, King Edward vi, whom God preserve yea, and a dear and gracious little urchin is he too, and whether it be mad or no, and they say he mendeth daily, his praises are on all men's lips, and all bless him likewise, and offer prayers that he may be spared the reign long in England. For he began humanely with saving the old Duke of Norfolk's life, and now is he bent on destroying the cruelest of the laws that harry and oppressed the people.
- [415:35]
Narrator
This news struck his Majesty dumb with amazement and plunged him into so deep and dismal a reverie that he heard no more of the old man's gossip. He wondered if the little urchin was the beggar boy whom he left dressed in his own garments in the palace. It did not seem possible that this could be, for surely his manners and speech would betray him. If he pretended to be the prince, Prince of Wales, then he would be driven out and search made for the true prince. Could it be that the court had set up some sprig of the nobility in his place? No, for his uncle would not allow that he was all powerful and could and would crush such a movement. Of course, the boy's musings profited him nothing. The more he tried to unriddle the mystery, the more perplexed he became, the more his head ached and the worse he slept. His impatience to get to London grew hourly, and his captivity became almost unendurable. Handon's arts all failed. With the king, he could not be comforted, but a couple of women who were chained near him succeeded better. Under their gentle ministrations he found peace, and learned a degree of peace, patience. He was very grateful and came to love them dearly and to delight in the sweet and soothing influence of their presence. He asked them why they were in prison, and when they said they were Baptists, he smiled and inquired, is that
- [417:14]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
a crime to be shut up for in a prison? Now I grieve, for I shall lose ye. They will not keep ye long for such a little thing.
- [417:25]
Narrator
They did not answer, and something in their faces made him uneasy. He said eagerly, you do not speak.
- [417:34]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Be good to me and tell me there will be no other punishment. Prithee, tell me. Is there no fear of that?
- [417:44]
Narrator
They tried to change the topic, but his fears were aroused and he pursued it.
- [417:51]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Will they scourge thee? No, no, they would not be so cruel. Say they would not come, they will not, will they?
- [418:04]
Narrator
The women betrayed confusion and distress, but there was no avoiding an answer. So one of them said in a voice choked with emotion, oh, thou' LT
- [418:14]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
break our hearts, thou gentle spirit.
- [418:16]
Narrator
God will help us to bear our.
- [418:19]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
It's a confession.
- [418:20]
Narrator
The King broke in.
- [418:22]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Then they will scourge thee, the stony hearted renters. But, oh, thou must not weep. I cannot bear it. Keep up thy courage. I shall come to my own in time to save thee from this bitter thing. I will do it.
- [418:41]
Narrator
When the King awoke in the morning, the women were gone. They are saved, he said joyfully, then added despondently, but woe is me, for
- [418:54]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
they were my comforts.
- [418:57]
Narrator
Each of them had left a shred of ribbon pinned to his clothing in token of remembrance. He said he would keep these things always, and that soon he would seek out these dear good friends of his and take them up under his protection. Just then the jailer came in with some subordinates and commanded that the prisoners be conducted to the jail yard. The King was overjoyed. It would be a blessed thing to see the blue sky and breathe the fresh air once more. He fretted and chafed at the slowness of the officers, but his turn came at last and he was released from his staple and ordered to follow the other prisoners with Hendon. The court or quadrangle, was stone paved and open to the sky. The prisoners entered it through a massive archway of masonry and were placed in file, standing with their backs against the wall. A rope was stretched in front of them, and they were also guarded by their officers. It was a chill and lowering morning, and a light snow which had fallen during the night was whitened the great empty space and added to the general dismalness of its aspect. Now and then a wintry wind shivered through the place and sent the snow eddying hither and thither. In the centre of the court stood two women chained to posts. A glance showed the King that these were his good friends. He shuddered and said to himself, alack,
- [420:32]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
they are not gone free as I had thought. To think such as these should know the lash in England. Ay, there's the shame of it. Not in hartanese Christian England they will be scourged. And I, whom they have comforted and kindly entreated, must look on and see the great wrong done. It is strange, so strange that I, the very source of power in this broad realm, am helpless to protect them. But let these miscreants look well to themselves, for there is a day coming when I will require of them. A heavy reckoning for this work. For every blow they strike now, they will feel a hundred.
- [421:26]
Narrator
Then a great gate swung open and a crowd of citizens poured in. They flocked around the two women and hid them from the king's view. A clergyman entered and passed through the crowd and he also was hidden. The king now heard talking back and forth as if questions were being asked and answered, but he could not make out what was said next. There was a great deal of bustle and preparation and much passing and repassing of officials through that part of the crowd that stood on the further side of the women. And whilst this proceeded, a deep hush gradually fell upon the people. Now by command the masses parted and fell aside and the king. King saw a spectacle that froze the marrow in his bones. Faggots had been piled about the two women and a kneeling man was lighting them. The women bowed their heads and covered their faces with their hands. The yellow flames began to climb upward among the snapping and crackling faggots and wreaths of blue smoke to stream away on the wind. The clergyman lifted his hands and began a prisoner prayer. Just then two young girls came flying through the great gate uttering piercing screams and threw themselves upon the women at the stake. Instantly they were torn away by the officers and one of them was kept in a tight grip. But the other broke loose, saying she would die with her mother. And before she could be stopped, she had flung her arms about her mother's neck again. She was torn away once more and with her gown on fire, two or three men held her and the burning portion of her gown was snatched off and thrown flaming aside, she struggling all the while to free herself and saying she would be alone in the world now and begging to be allowed to die with her mother. Both the girls screamed continually and fought for freedom. But suddenly this tumult was drowned under a volley of heart piercing shrieks of mortal agony. The king glanced from the frantic girls to the stake, then turned away and leaned his ashen face against the wall and looked no more.
- [423:55]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
He said, that which I have seen in that one little moment will never go out of my memory, but will abide there, and I shall see it in all the days and dream of it all the nights till I die. Would God I had been blind.
- [424:17]
Narrator
Handon was watching the king. He said to himself with satisfaction, his
- [424:24]
Miles Hendon
disorder mendeth he hath changed and groweth gentler. If he had followed his wont, he would have stormed at these varlets and said he was king and commanded that the women be turned loose unscathed. Soon his delusion will pass away and be forgotten, and his poor mind will be whole again. God speed the day.
- [424:47]
Narrator
That same day several prisoners were brought in to remain overnight, who were being conveyed on under guard to various places in the kingdom to undergo punishment for crimes committed. The king conversed with these. He had made it a point from the beginning to instruct himself for the kingly office by questioning prisoners whenever the opportunity offered, and the tale of their woes wrung his heart. One of them was a poor half witted woman who had stolen a yard or two of cloth from a weaver. She was to be hanged for it. Another was a man who had been accused of stealing a horse. He said the proof had failed, and he had imagined that he was safe from the halter. But no, he was hardly free before he was arraigned for killing a deer in the king's park. This was proved against him, and now he was on his way to the gallows. There was a tradesman's acquaintance apprentice, whose case particularly distressed the king. This youth said he found a hawk one evening that had escaped from its owner, and he took it home with him, imagining himself entitled to it. But the court convicted him of stealing it and sentenced him to death. The king was furious over these inhumanities and wanted Hendon to break jail and fly with him to Westminster, so that he could mount his throne and hold out his sceptre in mercy over these unfortunate people and save their lives. Poor child, sighed Handon.
- [426:24]
Miles Hendon
These woeful tales have brought his malady upon him again. Alack, but for this evil hap, he would have been well in a little time.
- [426:34]
Narrator
Among these prisoners was an old lawyer, a man with a strong face and a dauntless mane. Three years past he had written a pamphlet against the Lord Chancellor, accusing him of injustice, and had been punished for it by the loss of his ears in the pillory and degradation from the bar, and in addition had been fined 3,000 pounds and sentenced to imprisonment for life. Wife. Lately he had repeated his offence, and in consequence was now under sentence to lose what remained of his ears, pay a fine of £5,000, be branded on both cheeks, and remain in prison for life. These be honourable scars, he said, and turned back his gray hair and showed the mutilated stubs of what had once been his ears. The king's eye burned with passion.
- [427:37]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
He said, none, believe me, neither wilt thou. But no matter with the compass of a mouth thou shalt be free. And more the laws that have dishonoured thee and shame. The English name shall be swept from the statute books. The world is made wrong. Kings should go to school to their own laws at times, and so learn mercy.
- [428:08]
Narrator
End of chapter 27. Chapter 28 of the Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain. Twain. This is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org the Prince and the Pauper Chapter 28 the Sacrifice Meantime, Miles was growing sufficiently tired of confinement and inaction action. But now his trial came on to his great gratification, and he thought he could welcome any sentence provided a further imprisonment should not be a part of it. But he was mistaken about that. He was in a fine fury when he found himself described as a sturdy vagabond and sentenced to sit two hours in the stocks for bearing that character and for assaulting the master of Hindon Hall. His pretensions as to brothership with his prosecutor and rightful heirship to the Hendon honors and estates were left contemptuously unnoticed as being not even worth examination. He raged and threatened on his way to punishment, but it did no good. He was snatched roughly along by the officers and got an occasional cross cuff besides for his irreverent conduct, the king could not pierce through the rabble that swarmed behind, so he was obliged to follow in the rear, remote from his good friend and servant. The king had been nearly condemned to the stocks himself for being in such bad company, but had been led off with a lecture and a warning in consideration of his youth. When the crowd at last halted. Halted, he flitted feverishly from point to point around its outer rim, hunting a place to get through, and at last, after a deal of difficulty and delay, succeeded. There sat his poor henchman in the degrading stocks, the sport and butt of a dirty mob. He, the body servant of the King of England. Edward had heard the sentence pronounced, but he had not realized the half that it meant. His anger began to rise as the sense of this new indignity which had been put upon him sank home. It jumped to summer heat the next moment when he saw an egg sail through the air and crush itself against Hendon's cheek and heard the crowd roar its enjoyment of the episode. He sprang across the open circle and confronted the officer in charge.
- [430:58]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
For shame, this is my servant. Set him free. I am the.
- [431:04]
Miles Hendon
O peace.
- [431:06]
Narrator
Exclaimed Hindon in a panic.
- [431:09]
Miles Hendon
Thou' LT destroy thyself. Mind him not, officer, he is mad.
- [431:14]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
Give thyself no trouble. As to the matter of minding him, good man, I have small mind to mind him, but as to teaching him somewhat to that I am well inclined.
- [431:24]
Narrator
He turned to a subordinate and said,
- [431:27]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
give the little fool a taste or two of the lash to mend his manners.
- [431:31]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Half a dozen will better serve his
- [431:33]
Narrator
turn, suggested Sir Hugh, who had ridden up a moment before to take a passing glance at the proceedings. The king was seized. He did not even struggle, so paralyzed was he with the mere thought of the monstrous outrage that was proposed to be inflicted upon his sacred person. History was already defiled with the record of the scourging of an English king with whips. It was an intolerable reflection that he must furnish a duplicate of that shameful page. He was in the toils. There was no help for him. He must either take this punishment or beg for its remission. Hard conditions. He would take the stripes. A king might do that, but a king could not beg. But meantime, Miles, Hindon was resolving the difficulty.
- [432:27]
Miles Hendon
Let the child go, said he. Ye heartless dogs, do ye not see how young and frail he is? Let him go. I will take his lashes.
- [432:39]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Marry, a good thought, and thanks for
- [432:42]
Narrator
it, said Sir Hugh, his face lighting with a sardonic satisfaction.
- [432:49]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Let the little beggar go and give this fellow a dozen in his place. An honest dozen well laid on.
- [432:57]
Narrator
The king was in the act of entering a fierce protest, but Sir Hugh silenced him with the potent remark.
- [433:04]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Yes, speak up, do, and free thy mind only, Marchier, that for each word you utter he shall get six strokes the more.
- [433:15]
Narrator
Handon was removed from the stocks and his back laid bare. And whilst the lash was applied, the poor little king turned away his face and allowed unroyal tears to channel his cheeks unchecked.
- [433:29]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Ah, brave good heart, he said to himself. This loyal deed shall never perish out of my memory. I will not forget it.
- [433:40]
Narrator
And neither shall they, he added with passion. Whilst he mused, his appreciation of Hindon's magnanimous conduct grew to greater and still greater dimensions in his mind, and so also did his gratefulness for it. Presently he said to himself, who saves
- [434:00]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
his prince from wounds and possible death? And this he did for me performs high service. But it is little. It is nothing. Oh, less than nothing. Winters weighed against the act of him who saves his prince from shame.
- [434:21]
Narrator
Hindon made no outcry under the scourge, but bore the heavy blows with soldierly fortitude. This, together with his redeeming the boy by taking his stripes for him, compelled the respect of even that forlorn and degraded mob. That was gathered there, and its jibes and hootings died away, and no sound remained but the sound of the falling blows. The stillness that pervaded the place when Hendon found himself once more in the stocks was in strong contrast with the insulting clamor which had prevailed the there so little a while before. The king came softly to Hindon's side and whispered in his kings cannot ennoble
- [435:05]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
thee, thou great good soul, for one who is higher than the kings hath done that for thee. But a king can confirm thy nobility to men.
- [435:18]
Narrator
He picked up the scourge from the ground, touched Hendon's bleeding shoulders lightly with
- [435:24]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
it, and whispered, edward of England, dubs
- [435:28]
Narrator
the l. Hendon was touched. The water welled to his eyes, yet at the same time the grisly humor of the situation and circumstances so undermined his gravity that it was all he could do to keep some sign of his inward mirth from showing out outside. To be suddenly hoisted naked and gory from the common stocks to the alpine altitude and splendor of an earldom seemed to him the last possibility in the line of the grotesque.
- [436:00]
Miles Hendon
He said to himself, now I am finely tinselled indeed. The spectre, knight of the kingdom of dreams and shadows, is become a spectre earl. A dizzy flight for a king callow, and this. Go on. I shall presently be hung like a very maypole, with fantastic guards, and make believe honours, But I shall value them all, valueless as they are, for the love that doth bestow them better. These poor mock dignities of mine, that come unasked from a clean hand and a right spirit, than real ones bought by servility from grudging or interested power.
- [436:40]
Narrator
The dreaded Sir Hugh wheeled his horse about, and as he spurred away, the living wall divided silently to let him pass. And as silently closed together again and so remained, nobody went so far as to venture a remark in favour of the prisoner or in compliment to him, but no matter. The absence of abuse was a sufficient homage in itself. A late comer who was not posted as to the present circumstances, and who delivered a sneer at the impostor and was in the act of following it with a dead cat, was promptly knocked down and kicked out without any words. And then the deep quiet resumed sway once more. Chapter 28. Chapter 29 of the Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. To learn more or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org the Prince and the Pauper Chapter 29 to London when Hindon's term of service in the stocks was finished, he was released and ordered to quit the region and come back no more. His sword was restored to him and also his mule and his donkey. He mounted and rode off, followed by the King, the crowd opening with quiet respectfulness to let them pass and then dispersing when they were gone. Hendon was soon absorbed in thought. There were questions of high import to be answered. What should he do? Whither should he go? Powerful help must be found somewhere, or he must relinquish his inheritance and remain under the imputation of being an impostor. Besides, where could he hope to find this powerful help? Where indeed? It was a knotty question. By and by a thought occurred to him which pointed to a possibility. The slenderest of slender possibilities certainly, but still worth considering for lack of any other that promised anything at all. He remembered what old Andrews had said about the young king's goodness and his generous championship of the wronged and unfortunate. Why not go and try to get a speech of him and beg for justice? Ah, yes, but could so fantastic a pauper get admission to the august presence of a monarch? Never mind. Let that matter take care of itself. It was a bridge that would not need to be crossed till he should come to it. He was an old campaigner and used to inventing shifts and expedients. No doubt he would be able to find a way. Yes, he would strike for the capital. Maybe his father's old friend Sir Humphrey Marlow would help him. Good old Sir Humphrey, Head lieutenant of the late King's kitchen or stables or something. Miles could not remember just what or which. Now that he had something to turn his energies to, a distinctly defined object to accomplish. Accomplish. The fog of humiliation and depression which had settled down upon his spirits lifted and blew away, and he raised his head and looked about him. He was surprised to see how far he had come. The village was away behind him. The King was jogging along in his wake with his head bowed, for he too was deep in plans and thinkings. A sorrowful miscarriage. Thanksgiving clouded Hendon's newborn cheerfulness. Would the boy be willing to go again to a city where, during all his brief life he had never known anything but ill usage and pinching want? But the question must be asked. It could not be avoided. So Hindon reined up and called out,
- [440:51]
Miles Hendon
I had forgotten to inquire whither we are bound. Thy command, my liege.
- [440:58]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
To London.
- [441:00]
Narrator
Handon moved on again, mightily contented with the answer, but astounded at it too. The whole journey was made without an adventure of importance, but it ended with one. About 10 o' clock on the night of the 19th of February they stepped upon London Bridge, in the midst of a writhing, struggling jam of howling and hurrying people, whose beer jolly faces stood out strongly in the glare from manifold torches and at that instant the decaying head of some former duke or other grandee tumbled down between them, striking Hendon on the elbow, and then bounding off among the hurrying confusion of feet. So evanescent and unstable are men's works in this world. The late good king is but three weeks dead and three days in his grave, and already the adornments which he took such pains to select from prominent people for his noble bridge are falling. A citizen stumbled over that head, and drove his own head into the back of somebody in front of him, who turned and knocked down the first person that came handy, and was promptly laid out himself by that person's friend. It was the right ripe time for a free fight for the festivities of the morrow already beginning. Everybody was full of strong drink and patriotism. Within five minutes the free fight was occupying a good deal of ground. Within 10 or 12 it covered an acre of so, and it was become a riot. By this time Hindon and the King were hopelessly separated from each other and lost in the rush and turmoil of the roaring masses of humanity. And so we leave them. End of chapter 29. Chapter 30 of the Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org the Prince and the Pauper Chapter 30 Tom's progress whilst the true king wandered about the land poorly clad, poorly fed, cuffed and derided by tramps, one while herding with thieves and murderers in a jail, another and called idiot and impostor by all. Impartially, the mock king Tom Canty enjoyed quite a different experience when we saw him last. Royalty was just beginning to have a bright side. For him, this bright side went on brightening more and more every day. In a very little while it was become almost all sunshine and delightfulness. He lost his fears, his misgivings faded out and died. His embarrassments departed and gave place to an easy and confident bearing. He worked the whipping boy mind to ever increasing profit. He ordered my Lady Elizabeth and my Lady Jane Grey into his presence when he wanted to play or talk, and dismissed them when he was done with them with the air of one familiarly accustomed to such performances. It no longer confused him to have these lofty personages kiss his hand at parting. He came to enjoy being conducted to bed in state at night and dressed with intricate and solemn ceremony in the morning. It came to be a part proud pleasure to march to dinner attended by a glittering procession of officers of state and gentlemen at arms. Insomuch indeed that he doubled his guard of gentlemen at arms and made them a hundred. He liked to hear the bugles sounding down the long corridors and the distant voices responding way for the King. He even learned to enjoy sitting in throne sea estate in council and seeming to be something more than the Lord Protector's mouthpiece. He liked to receive great ambassadors and their gorgeous trains and listen to the affectionate messages they brought from illustrious monarchs who called him Brother O Happy Tom Canty, late of Offalcourt. He enjoyed his splendid clothes and ordered more. He found his 400 servants too few for his proper grandeur and trebled them. The adulation of salaaming courtiers came to be sweet music to his ears. He remained kind and gentle and a sturdy and determined champion of all that were oppressed. And he made tireless war upon unjust laws. Yet upon occasion, being offended, he could turn upon an earl or even a duke and give him a look that would make him tremble. Once, when his royal sister, the grimly holy Lady Mary, set herself to reason with him against the wisdom of his course in pardoning so many people who would otherwise be jailed or hanged or burned, and reminded him that their august late fathers prisons had sometimes contained as high as 60,000 convicts at one time, and that during his admirable reign he had delivered 72,000 thieves and robbers over to death by the executioner. The boy was filled with generous indignation and commanded her to go to her closet and beseech God to take away the stone that was in her breast and give her a human heart. Did Tom Canty never feel troubled about the poor little rightful prince who had treated him so kindly and flown out with such hot zeal to avenge him upon the insolent sentinel at the palace gate? Yes, his first royal days and nights were pretty well sprinkled with painful thoughts about the lost prince and with sincere longings for his return and happy restoration to his native rights and splendors. But as time wore on and the prince did not come, Tom's mind became more and more occupied with his new and enchanting experiences. And by little and little the vanished Monarch faded almost out of his thoughts, and finally, when he did intrude upon them intervals, he was become an unwelcome spectre, for he made Tom feel guilty and ashamed. Tom's poor mother and sisters travelled the same road out of his mind. At first he pined for them, sorrowed for them, longed to see them. But later the thought of their coming some day in their rags and dirt, and betraying him with their kisses, and pulling him down from his lofty place and dragging him back to penury and degradation and the slums made him shudder. At last they ceased to trouble his thoughts almost wholly, and he was content, even glad, for whenever their mournful and accusing faces did rise before him now, they made him feel more despicable than the worms that crawl. At midnight of 19 February, Tom Canty was sinking to sleep in his rich bed in the palace, guarded by his loyal vassals and surrounded by the pomps of royalty, a happy boy. For to morrow was the day appointed for his solemn crowning as King of England. At that same hour, Edward the true king, hungry and thirsty, soiled and draggled, worn with travel and clothed in rags and shreds, his share of the results of the riot was wedged in among a crowd of people who were watching with deep interest certain hurrying gangs of workmen who streamed in and out of Westminster Abbey. Busy as ants, they were making the last preparation for the royal coronation. End of chapter 30. Chapter 31 of the Prince and THE Pauper by Mark Twain. This is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. To learn more or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org the Prince and the Pauper Chapter 31 the Recognition Procession When Tom Canty awoke the next morning, the air was heavy with a thunderous murmur. All the distances were charged with it. It was music to him, for it meant that the English world was out in its strength to give loyal welcome to the great day. Presently Tom found himself once more the chief figure in a wonderful floating pageant on the Thames, for by ancient custom the recognition procession through London must start from the Tower, and he was bound thither. When he arrived there, the sides of the venerable fortress seemed suddenly rent in a thousand places, and from every rent leaped a red tongue of flame and a white gush of smoke. A deafening explosion followed, which drowned the shoutings of the multitude and made the ground tremble. The flame jets, the smoke and the explosions were repeated over and over again with marvellous celerity, so that in a Few moments, the old tower disappeared in the vast fog of its own smoke. All but the very top of the tall pile called the White Tower. This, with its banners, stood out above the dense bank of vapor as a mountain peak projects above a cloud rack. Tom Canty, splendidly arrayed, mounted a prancing war steed whose rich trappings almost reached to the ground. His uncle, the Lord Protector Somerset, similarly mounted, took place in his rear. The king's guard formed in single ranks on either side, clad in burnished armor. After the Protector followed a seemingly interminable procession of resplendent nobles attended by their vassals. After these came the lord mayor and the aldermanic body in crimson velvet robes and with their gold chains across their breasts. And after these, the officers and members of all the guilds of London in rich raiment and bearing the show banners of the several corporations. Also in the procession, as a special guard of honor through the city was the ancient and honorable Artillery company, an organization already 300 years old at that time and the only military body in England possessing the privilege which it still possesses in our day, of holding itself independent of the commands of Parliament. It was a brilliant spectacle and was hailed with acclamations all along the line as it took its stately way through the packed multitudes of citizens.
- [452:58]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
The king, as he entered this city, was received by the people with prayers, welcomings, cries and tender words, and all signs which arguing earnest love of subjects toward their sovereign. And the king, by holding up his glad countenance to such as stood far off and most tender language to those that stood nigh. His grace showed himself no less thankful to receive the people's good will than they to offer it to all that wished him well. He gave thanks to such as. God save his Grace, he said in
- [453:44]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
return, God save you all.
- [453:46]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
And added that he thanked them with all his heart. Wonderfully transported were the people with the loving answers and gestures of their king.
- [453:59]
Narrator
In Fenchurch Street, a fair child in Queen costly apparel stood on a stage to welcome his Majesty to the city. The last verse of his greeting was in these
- [454:12]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Welcome, O King, as much
- [454:13]
Narrator
as hearts can think.
- [454:15]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Welcome again, as much as tongues can tell.
- [454:18]
Advertisement / Commercial Voice
Welcome to joyous tongues and hearts that will never shrink. God thee preserve, we pray and wish thee ever well.
- [454:26]
Narrator
The people burst forth in a glad shout, repeating with one voice what the child had said. Tom Canty gazed abroad over the surging sea of eager faces, and his heart swelled with exultation, and he felt that the one thing worth living for in this world was to be A king and a nation's idol. Presently he caught sight at a distance of a couple of his ragged, awful court comrades, one of them the Lord High Admiral in his late mimic court, the other the First Lord of the Bedchamber in the same pretentious fiction. And his pride swelled higher than ever. Oh, if they could only recognize him now. What unspeakable glory it would be, if they could recognize him and realize that the derided mock king of the slums and back alleys was become a rapid, real king, with illustrious dukes and princes for his humble menials and the English world at his feet. But he had to deny himself and choke down his desire, for such a recognition might cost more than it would come to. So he turned away his head and left the two soiled lads to go on with their shoutings and glad adulations, unsuspected, suspicious of whom it was they were lavishing them upon. Every now and then rose the cry, a large S. A large S. And Tom responded by scattering a handful of bright new coins abroad for the multitude to scramble for. The chronicler says, at the upper end
- [456:06]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
of Grace Church street, before the sign of the eagle, the city had erected a gorgeous arch, beneath which was a stage which stretched from one side of the street to the other. This was a historical pageant representing the king's immediate progenitors. There sat Elizabeth of York in the midst of an immense white rose whose petals formed elaborate fir boughs around her. By her side was Henry vii, issuing out of a vast red rose, disposed in the same manner. The hands of the royal pair were locked together and the wedding ring ostentatiously displayed. From the red and white roses proceeded a stem which reached up to a second stage occupied by Henry viii, issuing from a red and white rose with the effigy of the new king's mother, Jane Seymour, represented by his side. One branch sprang from this pair, which mounted to a third stage where sat the effigy of Edward vi, himself enthroned in royal majesty. And the whole pageant was framed with wreaths of roses and red and white.
- [457:35]
Narrator
This quaint and gaudy spectacle, so wrought upon the rejoicing people that their acclamations utterly smothered the small voice of the child, whose business it was to explain the thing in eulogistic rhymes. But Tom Canty was not sorry for this loyal uproar, was sweeter music to him than any poetry, no matter what its quality might be. Whithersoever Tom turned his happy young face, the people recognized the exactness of his effigy's likeness to himself, the flesh and blood counterpart. And new whirlwinds of applause burst forth. The great pageant moved on and still on, under one triumphal arch after another, and past a bewildering succession of spectacular and and symbolical tableaux, each of which typified and exalted some virtue or talent or merit of the little kings throughout
- [458:35]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
the whole of Cheapside. From every penthouse and window hung banners and streamers, and the richest carpets, stuffs, and cloth of gold tapestried the streets. Specimens of the great wealth of the stores within. And the splendour of this thoroughfare was equalled in the other streets and in some even surpassed.
- [459:03]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
And all these wonders and these marvels are to welcome me.
- [459:07]
Miles Hendon
Me.
- [459:08]
Narrator
Murmured Tom Canty. The mock king's cheeks were flushed with excitement. His eyes were flashing. His senses swam in a delirium of pleasure. At this point, just as he was raising his hand to fling another rich largess, he caught sight of a pale, astounded face which was strained forward out of the second rank of the crowd, its intense eyes riveted upon him. A sickening consternation struck through him. He recognized his mother, and up flew his hand, palm outward before his eyes, that old involuntary gesture born of a forgotten episode and perpetuated by habit. In an instant more she had torn her way out of the press and passed the guards and was at his side. She embraced his leg. She covered it with kisses.
- [460:02]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
She cried, oh, my child, my darling.
- [460:08]
Narrator
Lifting toward him a face that was transfigured with joy and love. The same instant, an officer of the king's guard snatched her away with a curse and sent her reeling back whence she came with a vigorous impulse from his strong arm.
- [460:24]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
The words I do not know you,
- [460:26]
Narrator
woman, were falling from Tom Canty's lips when this piteous thing occurred. But it smote him to the heart to see her treated so. And as she turned for a last glimpse of him, whilst the crowd was swallowing her from his sight, she seemed so wounded, so broken hearted, that a shame fell upon him which consumed his pride to ashes and withered his stolen royalty. His grandeurs were stricken valueless. They seemed to fall away from him like rotten rags. The procession moved on and still on, through ever augmenting splendors and ever augmenting tempests of welcome. But to Tom Canty they were as if they had not been. He neither saw nor heard. Royalty had lost its grace and sweetness. Its pomps were become a reproach. Remorse was eating his heart out he
- [461:25]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
said, would God I were free of my capt activity.
- [461:30]
Narrator
He had unconsciously dropped back into the phraseology of the first days of his compulsory greatness. The shining pageant still went winding like a radiant and interminable serpent down the crooked lanes of the quaint old city and through the huzzaing hosts. But still the king rode with bowed head and vacant eyes, seeing only his mother's face and that wounded look in it. Largess. Largess. The cry fell upon an unheeding ear. Long live Edward of England. It seemed as if the earth shook with the explosion. But there was no response from the king. He heard it only as one hears the thunder of the surf when it is blown to the ear out of a great distance. For it was smothered under another sound, which was still nearer in his own breast, in his accusing conscience, a voice which kept repeating those shameful I do
- [462:36]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
not know you, woman.
- [462:38]
Narrator
The words smote upon the king's soul as the strokes of a funeral bell smite upon the soul of a surviving friend when they refuse, remind him of secret treachery suffered at his hands by him that is gone. New glories were unfolded at every turning. New wonders, new marvels sprang into view. The pent clamors of waiting batteries were released. New raptures poured from the throats of the waiting multitudes. But the king gave no sign, and the accusing voice that went moaning through his comfortless breast was all the sound he heard. By and by. The gladness in the faces of the populace changed a little and became touched with a something like solicitude or anxiety. An abatement in the volume of the applause was observable, too. The Lord Protector was quick to notice these things. He was as quick to detect the cause. He spurred to the king's side, bent low in his saddle, uncovered, and said,
- [463:40]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
my liege, it is an ill time for dreaming. The people observe thy downcast head, thy clouded mien, and they take it for an omen. Be advised, unveil the sun of royalty and let it shine upon these boding vapours and disperse them. Lift up thy face and smile upon the people.
- [464:03]
Narrator
So saying, the duke scattered a handful of coins to right and left, then retired to his place. The mock king did mechanically as he had been bidden. His smile had no heart in it, but few eyes were near enough or sharp enough to detect that the noddings of his plumed head as he saluted his subjects were full of grace and graciousness. The largess which he delivered from his hand was royally liberal. So the people's anxiety vanished, and the acclamations burst forth again in as mighty a volume as before. Still once more, a little before the progress was ended, the Duke was obliged to ride forward and make remonstrance.
- [464:48]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
He whispered, o dread sovereign, shake off these fatal humors. The eyes of the world are upon thee.
- [464:57]
Narrator
Then he added with sharp annoyance, perdition
- [465:01]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
catch that crazy pauper. Twas she that hath disturbed your highness.
- [465:07]
Narrator
The gorgeous figure turned a lustreless eye upon the Duke and said in a
- [465:12]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
dead voice, she was my mother.
- [465:16]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
My God.
- [465:18]
Narrator
Groaned the protector as he reined his horse backward to his post.
- [465:23]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
The omen was pregnant with prophecy. He has gone mad again.
- [465:30]
Narrator
End of chapter 31. Chapter 32 of the Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox records recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org the Prince and the Pauper Chapter 32 Coronation Day let us go backward a few hours and place ourselves in Westminster Abbey. At four o' clock in the morning of this memorable coronation Day. We are not without company, for although it is still night, we find the torch lighted galleries already filling up with people who are well content to sit still and wait seven or eight hours till the time shall come for them to see what they may not hope to see twice in their lives. The coronation of a king. Yes, London and Westminster have been a astir ever since the warning guns boomed at 3 o', clock, and already crowds of untitled rich folk who have bought the privilege of trying to find sitting room in the galleries, are flocking in at the entrances reserved for their sort. The hours drag along tediously enough. All stir has ceased for some time, for every gallery has long ago been packed. We may sit now and look and think at our leisure. We have glimpses here and there and yonder through the dim cathedral twilight, of portions of many galleries and balconies wedged full with other people, the other portions of these galleries and balconies being cut off from sight by intervening pillars and architectural projections. We have in view the whole of the great North Transept, empty and waiting for England's privileged ones. We also see the ample area or platform carpeted with rich stuffs, whereon the throne stands. The throne occupies the centre of the platform, and is raised above it upon an elevation of four steps. Within the seat of the throne is enclosed a rough flat rock, the stone of Scone, which many generations of Scottish kings sat on to be crowned, and so it in time became holy enough to answer a like purpose for English monarchs. Both the throne and its footstool are covered with cloth of gold. Stillness reigns. The torches blink dully, the time drags heavily, but at last the lagging daylight ass asserts itself. The torches are extinguished, and a mellow radiance suffuses the great spaces. All features of the noble building are distinct now, but soft and dreamy, for the sun is lightly veiled with clouds. At 7 o' clock the first break in the drowsy monotony occurs, for on the stroke of this hour, the first peeress enters the transept, clothed like Solomon for splendor, and is conducted to her appointed place by an official clad in satins and velvets. Whilst a duplicate of him gathers up, the lady's long train follows after, and when the lady is seated, arranges the train across her lap for her. He then places her footstool according to her desire, after which he puts her coronet where it will be convenient to her hand when the time, time for the simultaneous coroneting of the nobles shall arrive. By this time the peeresses are flowing in in a glittering stream, and the satin clad officials are flitting and glinting everywhere, seating them and making them comfortable. The scene is animated enough now. There is stir and life and shifting color everywhere. After a time, quiet reigns again, for the peeresses are all come and are all in their places. A solid acre or such a matter of human flowers, resplendent in variegated colors and frosted like a milky way with diamonds. There are all ages here, brown, wrinkled, white haired dowagers, who are able to go back and still back down the stream of time and recall the crowning of Richard III and the troublous days of that old forgotten age. And there are handsome middle aged dames, and lovely and gracious young matrons, and gentle and beautiful young girls with beaming eyes and fresh complexions, who may possibly put on their jewelled coronets awkwardly when the great time comes, for the matter will be new to them, and their excitement will be a sore hindrance. Still, this may not happen, for the hair of all these ladies has been arranged with a special view to the swift and successful lodging of the crown in its place when the signal comes. We have seen that this massed array of peeresses is sewn thick with diamonds, and we also see that it is a marvelous spectacle. But now we're about to be astonished. Finished in earnest, about nine, the clouds suddenly break away and a shaft of sunshine cleaves the mellow atmosphere and drifts slowly along the ranks of ladies. And every rank it touches flames into a dazzling splendor of many colored fires. And we tingle to our finger tips with the electric thrill that is shot through us by the surprise and the beauty of the spectacle. Presently a special envoy from some distant corner of the Orient, marching with the general body of foreign ambassadors, crosses this bar of sunshine and we catch our breath. The glory that streams and flashes and palpitates about him is so overpowering, for he is crusted from head to heel with gems. And his slightest move movement showers a dancing radiance all around him. Let us change the tents for convenience. The time drifted along. One hour, two hours, two hours and a half. Then the deep booming of artillery told that the king and his grand procession had arrived at last. So the waiting multitude rejoiced. All knew that a further delay must follow, for the king must be prepared and robed for the solemn ceremony. But this delay would be pleasantly occupied by the assembling of the peers of the realm. In their stately robes. These were conducted ceremoniously to their seats and their coronets placed conveniently at hand. And meanwhile the multitude in the galleries were alive with interest, for most of them were beholding for the first time dukes, earls and barons, whose names have been historical for 500 years. When all were finally seated, the spectacle from the galleries and all cohens of vantage was complete. A gorgeous one to look upon and to remember. Now the robed and mitred great heads of the church and their attendants filed in upon the platform and took their appointed places. These were followed by the Lord Protector and other great officials, and these again by a steel clad detachment of the guard. There was a waiting pause. Then at a signal a triumphant peal of music burst forth. And Tom Canty, clothed in a long robe of cloth of gold, appeared at a door and stepped upon the platform the entire moment multitude rose and the ceremony of the recognition ensued. Then a noble anthem swept the abbey with its rich waves of sound. And thus heralded and welcomed, Tom Canty was conducted to the throne. The ancient ceremonies went on with impressive solemnity whilst the audience gazed. And as they drew nearer and nearer to completion, Tom Canty grew pale and still paler. And a deep and steadily deepening woe and despondency settled down upon his spirits and upon his remorseful heart. At last the final act was at hand. The Archbishop of Canterbury lifted up the crown of England from its cushion and held it out over the trembling monster mock king's head in the Same instant a rainbow radiance flashed along the spacious transept. For with one impulse every individual in the great concourse of nobles lifted a coronet and poised it over his or her head and paused. In that attitude, a deep hush pervaded the abbey. At this impressive moment, a startling apparition intruded upon the scene, an apparition observed by none in the absorbed multitude until it suddenly appeared moving up the great central aisle. It was a boy, bareheaded, ill, shod and clothed in coarse plebeian garments that were falling to rags. He raised his hand with a solemnity which ill comported with his soiled and sorry aspect and delivered this note of warning.
- [475:20]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
I forbid you to set the crown of England upon that forfeited head. I am the King.
- [475:28]
Narrator
In an instant several indignant hands were laid upon the boy. But in the same instant Tom Canty, in his regal vestments, made a swift step forward and cried out in a ringing loose him and forbear.
- [475:44]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
He is the King.
- [475:46]
Narrator
A sort of panic of astonishment swept the assemblage, and they partly rose in their places and stared in a bewildered way at one another and at the chief figures in this scene, like persons who wondered whether they were awake and in their senses or asleep and dreaming. The Lord Protector was as amazed as the rest, but quickly recovered himself and exclaimed in a voice of authority, mind not his Majesty.
- [476:14]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
His malady is upon him again. Seize the vagabond.
- [476:20]
Narrator
He would have been obeyed, but the mock king stamped his foot and cried
- [476:25]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
out, on your peril, touch him not. He is the King.
- [476:30]
Narrator
The hands were withheld. A paralysis fell upon the house. No one moved, no one. One spoke. Indeed, no one knew how to act or what to say in so strange and surprising an emergency. While all minds were struggling to right themselves, the boy still moved steadily forward with high port and confident mien. He had never halted from the beginning. And while the tangled mind still floundered helplessly, he stepped upon the platform. And the mocking king ran with a glad face to meet him, and fell on his knees before him and said,
- [477:08]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
o, my lord the King. Let poor Tom Canty be first to swear fealty to thee and say, put on thy crown and enter into thine own.
- [477:17]
Narrator
Again the Lord Protector's eye fell sternly upon the newcomer's face, but straightway the sternness vanished away and gave place to an expression of wondering surprise. This thing happened also to the other great officers. They glanced at each other and retreated a step by a common and unconscious impulse. The thought in each mind Was the same.
- [477:44]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
What a strange resemblance.
- [477:47]
Narrator
The Lord Protector reflected a moment or two in perplexity. Then he said with grave respectfulness, by
- [477:55]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
your favour, sir, I desire to ask certain questions which I will answer them, my lord.
- [478:00]
Narrator
The Duke asked him many questions about the court, the late king, the prince, the princesses. The boy answered them correctly and without hesitating. He described the rooms of state in the palace, the late king's apartments and those of the Prince of Wales. It was strange. It was wonderful. Yes, it was unaccountable. So all said that heard it. The tide was beginning to turn and Tom Canty's hopes to run high, when the Lord Protector shook his head and
- [478:33]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
said, it is true, it is most wonderful, but it is no more than our Lord the King likewise can do.
- [478:41]
Narrator
This remark and this reference to himself as still the King saddened Tom Canty and he felt his hopes crumbling from under him. These are not proofs, added the Protector. The tide was turning very fast now, very fast indeed, but in the wrong direction it was, leaving poor Tom Canty stranded on the throne and sweeping the other out to sea. The Lord Protector communed with himself, shook his head. The thought forced itself upon him.
- [479:15]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
It is perilous to the state and to us all to entertain so fateful a riddle as this. It could divide the nation and undermine the throne.
- [479:25]
Narrator
He turned and said, sir Thomas, arrest this.
- [479:30]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
No, hold.
- [479:33]
Narrator
His face lighted, and he confronted the ragged candidate with this.
- [479:40]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Where lieth the Great Seal? Answer me this truly, and the riddle is unriddled. For only he that was Prince of Wales can so answer on so trivial a thing hang a throne and a dynasty.
- [479:56]
Narrator
It was a lucky thought, a happy thought. That it was so considered by the great officials was manifested by the the silent applause that shot from eye to eye around their circle in the form of bright approving lances. Yes, none but the true prince could dissolve the stubborn mystery of the vanished Great Seal. This forlorn little impostor had been taught his lesson well, but here his teachings must fail, for his teacher himself could not answer that question. Ah, very good, good. Very good indeed. Now we shall be rid of this troublesome and perilous business in short order. And so they nodded invisibly and smiled inwardly with satisfaction and looked to see this foolish lad stricken with a palsy of guilty confusion. How surprised they were then to see nothing of the sort happen. How they marvelled to hear him answer up promptly in a confident and untroubled voice.
- [481:00]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
And there is naught in this riddle that is difficult.
- [481:06]
Narrator
Then without so much as a by your leave to anybody. He turned and gave this command with the easy manner of one accustomed to doing such things.
- [481:16]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
My Lord St John. Go you to my private cabinet in the palace, for none knoweth a place better than you. And close down to the floor in the left corner, remotest from the door that opens from the ante chamber, you shall find in the wall a brazen nail head. Press upon it, and a little jewel closet will fly open, which not even you know, of course. No, nor any soul else in all the world but me and the trusty artisan who did contrive it for me. The last thing that falleth under your eye will be the great seal. Fetch it hither.
- [482:04]
Narrator
All the company wondered at this speech and wondered still more to see the little mendicant pick out this peer without hesitancy or apparent fear of mistake, and call him by name with such a placidly convincing air of having known him all his life. The peer was almost surprised into obeying. He even made a movement as if to go, but quickly recovered his tranquil attitude and confessed his blunder with a blush. Tom Canty turned upon him and said,
- [482:36]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
why dost thou hesitate? Hast not heard the king's command?
- [482:40]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
Go.
- [482:42]
Narrator
The Lord St. John made a deep obeisance, and it was observed that it was a significantly cautious and non committal one, it not being delivered at either of the kings, but at the neutral ground about half way between the two, and took his leave. Now began a movement of the gorgeous particles of that official group, which was slow, scarcely, perhaps imperceptible, and yet steady and persistent. A movement such as is observed in a kaleidoscope that is turned slowly, whereby the components of one splendid cluster fall away and join themselves to another. A movement which little by little in the present case dissolved the glittering crowd that stood about Tom Canty and clustered it together again in the neighborhood of the new newcomer. Tom Canty stood almost alone. Now ensued a brief season of deep suspense and waiting, during which even the few faint hearts still remaining near Tom Canty gradually scraped together courage enough to glide one by one over to the majority. So at last Tom Canty, in his royal robes and jewels, stood wholly alone and isolated from the world, a conspicuous figure occupying an eloquent vacancy. Now the Lord St John was seen returning. As he advanced up the mid aisle, the interest was so intense that the low murmur of conversation in the great assemblage died out and was succeeded by a profound hush, a breathless stillness through which his footfalls pulsed with A dull and distant sound. Every eye was fastened upon him as he moved along. He reached the platform, paused a moment, then moved toward Tom Canty with a deep obeisance and sire, the seal is not there. A mob does not melt away from the presence of a plague patient with more haste than the the band of pallid and terrified courtiers melted away from the presence of the shabby little claimant of the crown. In a moment he stood all alone, without friend or supporter, a target upon which was concentrated a bitter fire of scornful and angry looks. The Lord Protector called out fiercely, cast
- [485:08]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
the beggar into the street and scourge him through the town. The paltry knave is worth no more consideration.
- [485:16]
Narrator
Officers of the guard sprang forward to obey, but Tom Canty waved them off and said back.
- [485:23]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
Whoso touches him perils his life.
- [485:27]
Narrator
The Lord Protector was perplexed in the last degree. He said to the Lord St. John,
- [485:33]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
searched you well, but it boots not to ask that doth seem passing strange little things. Trifles slip out of one's ken, and one does not think it matter for surprise. But how so bulky a thing as the seal of England can vanish away and no man be able to get track of it Again a massy golden disc.
- [485:57]
Narrator
Tom Canty, with beaming eyes, sprang forward and shouted, hold.
- [486:02]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
That is enough. Was it round and thick, and had it letters and devices graved upon it? Yes. O, now I know what this great seal is, that there's been such worry and pother about. An ye had but described it to me. Ye could have had it three weeks ago.
- [486:22]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
Right.
- [486:22]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
Well, I know where it lies, but it was not I that put it there first.
- [486:29]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Who then, my liege?
- [486:32]
Narrator
Asked the Lord Protector.
- [486:34]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
He that stands there, the rightful king of England, and he shall tell you himself where it lies. Then you will believe he knew it of his own knowledge. Bethink thee, my king, spur thy memory. It was the last, the very last thing thou didst that day before thou didst rush forth from the palace clothed in my rags to punish the soldier that insulted me.
- [487:00]
Narrator
A silence ensued, undisturbed by a movement or a whisper, and all eyes were fixed upon the new comer, who stood with bent head and corrugated brow, groping in his memory among a thronging multitude of valueless recollections for one single little elusive fact which found would seat him upon a throne unfound, would leave him as he was for good and all, a pauper and an outcast. Moment after moment passed. The moments built themselves into minutes. Still the boy struggled silently on and gave no sign. But at last he heaved a sigh, shook his head slowly, and said with a trembling lip, and in a despondent
- [487:48]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
voice, I call the scene back. All of it. But the seal hath no place in it.
- [487:55]
Narrator
He paused, then looked up and said, with gentle dignity, my lords and gentlemen,
- [488:04]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
if ye will rob your rightful sovereign of his own for his lack of his evidence, which he is not able to furnish, I may not say being powerless, but O folly.
- [488:18]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
O madness. My king.
- [488:20]
Narrator
Cried Tom Canty in a panic.
- [488:23]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
Wait. Think. Do not give up. The cause is not lost, nor shall be neither. List to what I say. Follow every word. I am going to bring that morning back again. Every hap, just as it happened, we talked. I told you of my sisters Nan and Bet. Ah, yes, you remember that. And about mine, old Grandam, and the rough games of the lads of Offal court. Yes, you remember these things also? Very well. Follow me. Still you shall recall everything you gave me food and drink, and did with princely courtesy, send away the servants, so that my low breeding might not shame me before them. Ah, yes, this also you remember.
- [489:10]
Narrator
As Tom checked off his details and the other boy nodded his head in recognition of them, the great audience and the officials stared in puzzled wonderment. The tale sounded like true history. Yet how could this impossible conjunction between a prince and a beggar boy have come about? Never was a company of people so perpetual, perplexed, so interested, and so stupefied before.
- [489:37]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
For a jest, my prince, we did exchange garments. Then we stood before Marror, and so alike were we, that both said it seemed as if there had been no change made. Yes, you remember that. Then you noticed that the soldier had hurt my hand. Look, here it is. I cannot even write with it, the fingers are so stiff. At this your highness sprang up, vowing vengeance upon that soldier, and ran towards the door. You passed a table. That thing you call the seal lay on that table. You snatched it up and looked eagerly about as if for a place to hide it. Your eye caught sight of there.
- [490:20]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Tis efficient, and the good God to be thanked.
- [490:25]
Narrator
Exclaimed the ragged claimant in a mighty excitement.
- [490:29]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Go, my good Saint John. In an arm piece of Malise armour that hangs on the wall, thou wilt find a seal.
- [490:40]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
Right, my king, right.
- [490:42]
Narrator
Cried Tom Canty.
- [490:44]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
Now the sceptre of England is thine own. And it were better for him that would dispute it, that he had been born dumb. Go, my Lord St. John, give thy feet wings.
- [490:56]
Narrator
The whole assemblage was on its feet now, and well nigh out of its Mind with uneasiness, apprehension and consuming excitement. On the floor and on the platform a deafening buzz of frantic conversation burst forth, and for some time nobody knew anything or heard anything, anything, or was interested in anything but what his neighbor was shouting into his ear, or he was shouting into his neighbour's ear. Time nobody knew how much of it swept by unheeded and unnoted. At last a sudden hush fell upon the house, and in the same moment St. John appeared under the platform and held the Great Seal aloft in his hand. Then such a shout went up. Long live the true king. For five minutes the air quaked with shouts and the crash of musical instruments, and was white with a storm of waving handkerchiefs. And through it all a ragged lad, the most conspicuous figure in England, stood flushed and happy and proud in the centre of the spacious platform platform, with the great vassals of the kingdom kneeling around him. Then all rose, and Tom Canty cried
- [492:14]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
out, now, O my king, take these regal garments back, and give poor Tom thy servant his shreds and remnants.
- [492:21]
Narrator
Again the Lord Protector spoke up.
- [492:25]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
Let the small varlet be stripped and flung into the tower.
- [492:29]
Narrator
But the new king, the true king
- [492:32]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
said, I will not have it so. But for him I had not got my crown. Again none shall lay a hand upon him to harm him. And as for thee, my good uncle, my Lord Protector, this conduct of thine is not grateful towards the poor lad, for I hear he hath been made thee a duke.
- [492:57]
Narrator
The Protector blushed.
- [493:00]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Yet he was not a king. Wherefore what is thy fine title worth? Now to morrow you shall sue to me through him for this confirmation. Else no duke but a simple earl.
- [493:19]
Narrator
Shalt thou remain under this rebuke? His grace, the Duke of Somerset, retired a little from the front for the moment. The king turned to Tom and said
- [493:31]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
kindly, my poor boy, how was it that you could remember where I hid the seal when I could not remember it myself?
- [493:42]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
Ah, my king, that was easy, since I used it divers days use it,
- [493:49]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
yet could not explain where it was.
- [493:53]
Edward Tudor / True Prince
I did not know it was that they wanted. They did not describe it, your majesty.
- [493:59]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Then how used you it?
- [494:02]
Narrator
The red blood began to steal up into Tom's cheeks, and he dropped his eyes and was silent.
- [494:10]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Speak up, good lad, and fear nothing, said the king. How used you the Great Seal of England?
- [494:19]
Narrator
Tom stammered a moment in a pathetic confusion, then got it out to crack nuts with. Poor child. The avalanche of laughter that greeted this nearly swept him off his feet. But if a doubt remained in any mind that Tom Canty was not the King of England, and familiar with the august appurtenances of royalty, this reply disposed of it utterly. Meantime the sumptuous robe of state had been removed from Tom's shoulders to the King's, whose rags were effectually hidden from sight under it then the coronation ceremonies were resumed. The true king was anointed, and the crown set upon his head, whilst cannon thundered the news to the city, and all London seemed to rock with applause. End of chapter 32. Chapter 33 of the Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain this is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org the Prince and the Pauper Chapter 33 Edward as King Miles Hendon was picturesque enough before he got into the riot on London Bridge. He was more so when he got out of it. He had but little money when he got in, none at all when he got out. The picture pockets had stripped him of his last farthing. But no matter. So he found his boy. Being a soldier, he did not go at his task in a random way, but set to work first of all to arrange his campaign. What would the boy naturally do? Where would he naturally go? Well, argued Miles, he would naturally go to his former haunts, for that is the instinct of unsound minds when homeless and forsaken, as well as of sound ones. Whereabouts were his former haunts? His rags, taken together with the low villain who seemed to know him, and who even claimed to be his father, indicated that his home was in one or another of the poorest and meanest districts of London. Would the search for him be difficult or long? No, it was likely to be easy and brief. He would not hunt for the boy. He would hunt for a crowd in the center of a big crowd, or a little one. Sooner or later he should find his poor little friend, sure, and the mangy mob would be entertaining itself with pestering and aggravating the boy, who would be proclaiming himself king as usual. Then Miles Hendon would cripple some of those people and carry off his little ward and comfort, and cheer him with loving words, and the two would never be separated any more. So Miles started on his quest. Hour after hour he tramped through back alleys and squalid streets, seeking groups and crowds, and finding no end of them, but never any sign of the boy. This greatly surprised him, but did not discourage him to his notion. There was nothing the matter with his plan of campaign. The only miscalculation about it was that the campaign was becoming a lengthy one, whereas he had expected it to be short. When daylight arrived at last, he had made many a mile and canvassed many a crowd. But the only result was that he was tolerably tired, rather hungry, and very sleepy. He wanted some breakfast, but there was no way to get it to beg, for it did not occur to him as to pawning his sword. He would as soon have thought of parting with his Honour. He could spare some of his clothes, yes, but one could as easily find a customer for a disease as for such clothes. At noon he was still tramping among the rabble which followed after the royal procession. Now for he argued that this regal display would attract his little lunatic powerfully. He followed the pageant through all its devious windings about London and all the way to Westminster and the Abbey. He drifted here and there amongst the multitudes that were massed in the vicinity for a weary long time, baffled and perplexed, and finally wandered off, thinking and trying to contrive some way to better his plan of campaign. By and by. When he came to himself out of his musings, he discovered that the town was far behind him and that the day was growing old. He was near the river and in the country. It was a region of fine rural seats, not the sort of district to welcome clothes like his. It was not at all cold, so he stretched himself on the ground in the lee of a hedge to rest and think. Drowsiness presently began to settle upon his senses. The faint and far off boon of cannon was wafted to his ear, and he said to himself, the new king is crowned. And straightway fell asleep. He had not slept or rested before for more than 30 hours. He did not wake again until near the middle of the next morning. He got up lame, stiff and half famished, washed himself in the river, staid his stomach with a pint or two of water, and trudged off toward Westminster, grumbling at himself for having wasted so much time. Hunger helped him to a new plan. Now he would try to get speech with old Sir Humphrey Marlow and borrow a few marks, and that that was enough of a plan for the present. It would be time enough to enlarge it when this first stage should be accomplished. Toward 11 o' clock he approached the palace, and although a host of showy people were about him moving in the same direction, he was not inconspicuous. His costume took care of that. He watched these people's faces narrowly, hoping to find a charitable one whose possessor might be willing to carry his name to the old lieutenant. As to trying to get into the palace himself, that was simply out of the question. Presently our whipping boy passed him, then wheeled about and scanned his figure well, saying to himself, and that is not
- [501:14]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
the very vagabond His Majesty isn't such a worry about. Then I am an ass, though belike I was that before he answereth the description to a rag that God should make two such would be to cheapen miracles by wasteful repetition. I would I could contrive an excuse to speak with him.
- [501:33]
Narrator
Miles Handon saved him the trouble, for he turned about then, as a man generally will when somebody mesmerizes him by gaze. Gazing hard at him from behind and observing a strong interest in the boy's eyes, he stepped toward him and said,
- [501:50]
Miles Hendon
you have just come from the palace. Do you belong there?
- [501:55]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Yes, your Worship.
- [501:57]
Miles Hendon
Know you, Sir Humphrey Marlow?
- [502:01]
Narrator
The boy started and said to himself,
- [502:04]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
lord mine, old departed father.
- [502:08]
Narrator
Then he answered, right well, you, Worship.
- [502:12]
Miles Hendon
Good. Is he within?
- [502:15]
Narrator
Yes, said the boy, and added to
- [502:19]
Miles Hendon
himself, within his grave might I crave your favour to carry my name to him and say, I beg to say a word in his ear.
- [502:30]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
I will despatch the business right willingly, fair sir.
- [502:35]
Miles Hendon
Then say Miles Hendon, son of Sir Richard is here without I shall be greatly bounden to you, my good lad.
- [502:45]
Narrator
The boy looked disappointed.
- [502:48]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
The king did not name him so
- [502:50]
Narrator
he said to himself, but it mattereth not.
- [502:53]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
This is his twin brother, and can give his Majesty news of t' other Serotonins, I warrant.
- [503:00]
Narrator
So he said to step in there
- [503:03]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
a moment, good sir, and wait till I bring you word.
- [503:07]
Narrator
Hendon retired to the place indicated. It was a recess sunk in the palace wall with a stone bench in it, a shelter for sentinels in bad weather. He had hardly seated himself when some halberdiers in charge of an officer passed by. The officer saw him, halted his men, and commanded Hindon to come forth. He obeyed and was promptly arrested as a suspicious character prowling within the precincts of the palace. Things began to look ugly. Poor Miles was going to explain, but the officer roughly silenced him and ordered his men to disarm him and search him.
- [503:50]
Miles Hendon
God of his mercy, grant that they
- [503:52]
Narrator
find somewhat, said poor Miles, I have
- [503:56]
Miles Hendon
searched enow and failed. Yet is my need greater than theirs.
- [504:01]
Narrator
Nothing was found but a document. The officer tore it open, and Hendon smiled when he recognized the pot hooks made by his lost little friend that black day at Hendon Hall. The officer Smith face grew dark as he read The English paragraph and Miles blenched to the opposite color as he listened.
- [504:24]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
Another new claimant of the crown.
- [504:27]
Narrator
Cried the officer.
- [504:29]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
Verily they breed like rabbits to day. Seize the rascal men and see ye keep him fast whilst I convey this precious paper within and send it to the king.
- [504:39]
Narrator
He hurried away, leaving the prisoner and the grip of of the halberdiers.
- [504:44]
Miles Hendon
Now is my evil luck ended at last, muttered Hendon, for I shall dangle at a rope's end for a certainty by reason of that bit of writing. And what will become of my poor lad? Ah, only the good Lord knoweth by and by.
- [505:02]
Narrator
He saw the officer coming again in a great hurry, so he plucked his courage to together purposing to meet his trouble as became a man. The officer ordered the men to loose the prisoner and return his sword to him, then bowed respectfully and said, please
- [505:20]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
you sir, to follow me.
- [505:23]
Narrator
Hendon followed, saying to himself, an I
- [505:26]
Miles Hendon
were not travelling to death and judgment, and so must needs economize in sin. I would throttle this knave for his mock courtesy.
- [505:36]
Narrator
The two traversed a populous court and arrived at the grand entrance of the palace, where the officer with another bow delivered Hindon into the hands of a gorgeous official who received him with profound respect and led him forward through a great hall lined on both sides with rows of splendid flunkeys who made reverential obeisance distance as the two passed along, but fell into death throes of silent laughter at our stately scarecrow the moment his back was turned and up a broad staircase among flocks of fine folk, and finally conducted him into a vast room clove a passage for him through the assembled nobility of England, then made a bow, reminded him to take his hat off, and left him standing in the middle of the room, a mark for all eyes, for plenty of indignant frowns, and for a sufficiency of amused and derisive smiles. Miles Hinden was entirely bewildered. There sat the young king under a canopy of state, five steps away, with his head bent down and aside, speaking with a sort of human burden. Bird of paradise, A duke, maybe. Hendon observed to himself that it was hard enough to be sentenced to death in the full vigour of life without having this peculiarly public humiliation added. He wished the king would hurry about it. Some of the gaudy people nearby were becoming pretty offensive at this moment. The king raised his head slightly and Hendon caught a good view of his friend face. The sight nearly took his breath away. He stood gazing at the fair young face like one transfixed. Then Presently ejaculated.
- [507:28]
Miles Hendon
Lo, the lord of the kingdom of dreams and shadows on his throne.
- [507:33]
Narrator
He muttered some broken sentences, still gazing and marveling, then turned his eyes around and about, scanning the gorgeous throng and the spirit splendid saloon murmuring but these are real.
- [507:48]
Miles Hendon
Verily, they are real. Surely it is not a dream.
- [507:53]
Narrator
He stared at the king again. And is it a dream?
- [507:58]
Miles Hendon
Or is he the veritable sovereign of England and not the friendless poor Tom of Bedlam I took him for? Who shall solve me this riddle?
- [508:10]
Narrator
A sudden idea flashed in his eye, and he strode to the wall, gathered up a chair, brought it back, planted it on the floor and sat down in it. A buzz of indignation broke out. A rough hand was laid upon him, and a voice exclaimed, up, thou manellous
- [508:30]
John Canty / Ruffians / Villains
clown, wouldst sit in the presence of the king.
- [508:34]
Narrator
The disturbance attracted his Majesty's attention, who stretched forth his hand and cried out, touch him not.
- [508:42]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
It is his right.
- [508:45]
Narrator
The throng fell back, stupefied. The king went on.
- [508:50]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
Learn ye all, ladies, lords and gentlemen, that this is my trusty and well beloved servet Miles Hindon, who interposed his good soul and saved his prince from bodily harm and possible death. And for this he is a knight by the king's voice. Also learn that for a higher service in that he saved his sovereign stripes and shame, taking these upon himself, he is a peer of England, Earl of Kent, and shall have gold and lands meet for dignity. More, the privilege which he hath just exercised is his by royal grant, for we have ordained that the chiefs of his line shall have and all the right to sit in the presence of the majesty of England. England henceforth, age after age, so long as the crown shall endure, molest him not.
- [510:05]
Narrator
Two persons who through delay had only arrived from the country during this morning and had now been in this room only five minutes, stood listening to these words and looking at the king, then at the scarecrow, then at the king again in a sort of torpid bewilderment. These were Sir Hugh and the Lady Edith, but the new earl did not see them. He was still staring at the monarch in a dazed way and muttering, O body, O me.
- [510:38]
Miles Hendon
This my pauper. This my lunatic. This is he whom I would show what grandeur was in my house of 70 rooms and 7 and 20 servants. This is he who has never known aught but rags for raiment, kicks for comfort and offal for diet. This is he whom I adopted and would make respectable. Would God I had a bag to hide my head in.
- [511:04]
Narrator
Then his manners suddenly Came back to him. And he dropped upon his knees with his hands between the king's, and swore allegiance and did homage for his lands and titles. Idols. Then he rose and stood respectfully aside. A mark still for all eyes, and much envy too. Now the king discovered Sir Hugh and spoke out with a wrathful voice and
- [511:30]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
kindling, Strip this robber of his false shadow and stolen estates and put him under lock and key till I have no need of him.
- [511:43]
Narrator
The late Sir Hugh was led away. There was a stir at the other end of the room. Now the assemblage fell apart. And Tom Canty, quaintly but richly clothed, marched down between these living walls. Preceded by an usher, he knelt before the king, who said, I have learned
- [512:05]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
the story of these past few weeks that am well pleased with thee. Thou hast governed the realm with right royal gentleness and mercy. Thou hast found thy mother and thy sisters again. Good they shall be cared for. Thy father shall hang if thou desire it, and the law consent. No, all ye that hear my voice. From this day on they abide in the shelter of Christ hospital and share the king's bounty, shall have their minds and hearts fed as well as their basta pots. And this boy shall dwell here and hold the chief place that is honourably bodily of governors during life. And for that he hath been a king, it is meet that other common observances shall be his due. Wherefore note this his dress of state, for by it he shall be known, and none shall copy it. And whosoever he shall come, it shall remind the people that he hath been royal in his time. And none shall deny him his due of reverence or fail to give him salutation. He hath the throne's protection, he hath the crown's support. He shall be known and called by the honourable title of the king's ward.
- [513:48]
Narrator
The proud and happy Tom Canty rose and kissed the king's hand and was conducted from the presence. He did not waste any time, but flew to his mother to tell her and Nan and Bet all about it and get them to help him enjoy the great news. Chapter 34 of the Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain. Twain. This is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org the Prince and THE Pauper Conclusion justice and retribution. When the mysteries were all cleared up, it came out by confession of Hugh Hendon that his wife had repudiated Miles by his command that Day at Hendon Hall, a command assisted and supported by the perfectly trustworthy promise that if she did not deny that he was Miles Hendon and stand firmly to it, he would have her life. Whereupon she said, take it. She did not value it it, and she would not repudiate Miles. Then the husband said he would spare her life but have Miles assassinated. This was a different matter. So she gave her word and kept it. Hugh was not prosecuted for his threats or for stealing his brother's estates and title because the wife and brother would not testify against him, and the former would not have been allowed to do it even if she had wanted to. Hugh deserted his wife and went over to the continent, where he presently died. And by and by the Earl of Kent married his relict. There were grand times and rejoicing at Hendon village when the couple paid their first visit to the hall. Tom Canty's father was never heard of again. The king sought out the farmer who had been branded and sold as a slave and reclaimed him from his evil life with the Rufflers gang and put him in the way of a comfortable livelihood. He also took that old lawyer out of prison and remitted his fine. He provided good homes for the daughters of the two Baptist women whom he saw burned at the stake and roundly punished the official who laid the undeserved stripes upon Miles Hendon's back. He saved from the gallows the boy who had captured the stray falcon and also the woman who had stolen a remnant of cloth from a weaver. But he was too late to save the man who had been convicted of killing a deer in the royal forest. He showed favor to the justice who had pitied him when he was supposed to have stolen a pig. And he had the gratification of seeing him grow in the public esteem and become a great and honored man. As long as the king lived, he was fond of telling the story of his adventures all through. From the hour that the sentinel cuffed him away from the palace gate till the final midnight when he deftly mixed himself into a gang of hurrying workmen. And so slipped into the abbey and climbed up and hid himself in the confessor's tomb, and then slept so long next day that he came within one of missing the coronation altogether. He said that the frequent rehearsing of the precious lesson kept him strong in his purpose to make its teachings yield benefits to his people. And so, whilst his life was spared, he should continue to tell the story and thus keep its sorrowful spectacles fresh in his memory. And the Springs of pity replenished in his heart. Miles Hindon and Tom Canty were favorites of the king all through his brief reign and his sincere mourners when he died. The good Earl of Kent had too much sense to abuse his peculiar privilege. But he exercised it twice after the instance we have seen of it before he was called from this world. Once at the accession of Queen Mary and once at the accession of Queen Elizabeth. A descendant of his exercised it at the accession of James I, before this one's son chose to use the privilege. Near a quarter of a century had elapsed and the privilege of the Kents had faded out of most people's memories. So when the Kent of that day appeared before Charles I and his court and sat down in the sovereign's place presence to assert and perpetuate the right of his house, there was a fine stir indeed. But the matter was soon explained and the right confirmed. The last earl of the line fell in the wars of the Commonwealth fighting for the King, and the odd privilege ended with him. Tom Canty lived to be a very old man, a handsome white haired old fellow of grave and benignant aspect. As long as he lasted he was honoured. And he was also reverenced for his striking and peculiar costume. Kept the people reminded that in his time he had been royal. So wherever he appeared, the crowd fell apart, making way for him and whispering one to another, doff thy hat, it
- [519:36]
Lord St John / Lord Hertford / Nobles
is the Kings ward.
- [519:40]
Narrator
And so they saluted and got his kindly smile in return. And they valued it too, for his was an honorable history. Yes, King Edward VI lived only a few years, poor boy, but he lived them worthily. More than once when some great dignitary, some gilded vassal of the crown, made argument against his leniency and urged that some law which he was bent upon amending was gentle enough for its purpose, and wrought no suffering or oppression which any one need mightily mind. The young king turned the mournful eloquence of his great compassionate eyes upon him.
- [520:21]
Tom Canty / Prince of Wales
And what dost thou know of suffering and oppression? I and my people know, but not thou.
- [520:35]
Narrator
The reign of Edward VI was a singularly merciful one for those harsh times. Now that we are taking leave of him, let us try to keep this in our minds to his credit. End of the Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain.