The Prince and the Pauper | Page 9

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 gentlemen-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! They will go and tell. Oh! why came I here to
cast away my life?"
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 voice--
"Oh, what aileth thee, my lord?"

Tom's breath was nearly failing him; but he made shift to stammer out--
"Ah, be merciful, thou! In sooth I am no lord, but only poor Tom Canty
of Offal Court in the city. Prithee let me see the prince, and he will of
his grace restore to me my rags, and let me hence unhurt. Oh, be thou
merciful, and save me!"
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. She cried out--
"O my lord, on thy knees?--and to ME!"
Then she fled away in fright; and Tom, smitten with despair, sank
down, murmuring--
"There is no help, there is no hope. Now will they come and take me."
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, "The prince
hath gone mad, 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 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!"
The whisperings 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 comes!"

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 grey 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 speak--
"How 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?"
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? Then am I undone indeed!"
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 rumour disproportioned to the truth; but I
fear me 'tis not so."