The Prince and the Pauper | Page 5

was all
of lovely silks and satins, shining with jewels; at his hip a little jewelled
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 dar'st thou use a poor lad like that? How dar'st thou use the King
my father's meanest subject so? Open the gates, and let him in!"
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: thou'st been treated ill. Come with
me."
Half a dozen attendants sprang forward to--I 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.
"What is thy name, lad?"

"Tom Canty, an' it please thee, sir."
"'Tis an odd one. Where dost live?"
"In the city, please thee, sir. Offal Court, out of Pudding Lane."
"Offal Court! Truly 'tis another odd one. Hast parents?"
"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."
"Then is thy grand-dam not over kind to thee, I take it?"
"Neither to any other is she, so please your worship. She hath a wicked
heart, and worketh evil all her days."
"Doth she mistreat thee?"
"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."
A fierce look came into the little prince's eyes, and he cried out--
"What! Beatings?"
"Oh, indeed, yes, please you, sir."
"BEATINGS!--and thou so frail and little. Hark ye: before the night
come, she shall hie her to the Tower. The King my father"--
"In sooth, you forget, sir, her low degree. The Tower is for the great
alone."
"True, indeed. I had not thought of that. I will consider of her
punishment. Is thy father kind to thee?"
"Not more than Gammer Canty, sir."

"Fathers be alike, mayhap. Mine hath not a doll's temper. He smiteth
with a heavy hand, yet spareth me: he spareth me not always with his
tongue, though, sooth to say. How doth thy mother use thee?"
"She is good, sir, and giveth me neither sorrow nor pain of any sort.
And Nan and Bet are like to her in this."
"How old be these?"
"Fifteen, an' it please you, sir."
"The Lady Elizabeth, my sister, is fourteen, and the Lady Jane Grey,
my cousin, is of mine 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?"
"They? Oh, dost think, sir, that THEY have servants?"
The little prince contemplated the little pauper gravely a moment, then
said--
"And prithee, why not? Who helpeth them undress at night? Who
attireth them when they rise?"
"None, sir. Would'st have them take off their garment, and sleep
without--like the beasts?"
"Their garment! Have they but one?"