The Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain (desktop ebook reader TXT) š
- Author: Mark Twain
- Performer: -
Book online Ā«The Prince and the Pauper by Mark Twain (desktop ebook reader TXT) šĀ». Author Mark Twain
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
musicians and a packed company of citizens of both sexes, in brilliant
attire. In the centre of the room, upon a raised platform, is Tomās
table. Now let the ancient chronicler speak:
āA 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; then come two others, one with the rod again, the
other with a salt-cellar, a plate, and bread; 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.ā {6}
So end the solemn preliminaries. Now, far down the echoing corridors we
hear a bugle-blast, and the indistinct cry, āPlace for the King! Way for
the Kingās most excellent majesty!ā These sounds are momently repeatedā
they grow nearer and nearerāand presently, almost in our faces, the
martial note peals and the cry rings out, āWay for the King!ā At this
instant the shining pageant appears, and files in at the door, with a
measured march. Let the chronicler speak again:ā
āFirst 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 fleurs-de-lis, the point upwards; next
comes the King himselfāwhom, upon his appearing, twelve trumpets and
many drums salute with a great burst of welcome, whilst all in the
galleries rise in their places, crying āGod save the King!ā After him
come nobles attached to his person, and on his right and left march his
guard of honour, his fifty Gentlemen Pensioners, with gilt battle-axes.ā
This was all fine and pleasant. Tomās 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 himāand
besides, nobody can be very ungraceful in nicely-fitting beautiful
clothes after he has grown a little used to themāespecially 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 āI thank ye, my good people.ā
He seated himself at table, without removing his cap; and did it without
the least embarrassment; for to eat with oneās cap on was the one
solitary royal custom upon which the kings and the Cantys 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,āāthe
tallest and mightiest men in England, they being carefully selected in
this regardāābut we will let the chronicler tell about it:ā
āThe Yeomen of the Guard entered, bareheaded, clothed in scarlet, with
golden roses upon their backs; and these went and came, bringing in each
turn a course of dishes, served in plate. These dishes were received by
a gentleman in the same order 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.ā
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 mistakeāflawless 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 buy himself free
from some of the more formidable requirements of his royal office.
Chapter XVII. Foo-foo the First.
Miles Hendon hurried along toward the Southwark end of the bridge,
keeping a sharp look-out 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 thus: 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? 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
and 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. Yes, the case was plain to Hendonāhe must lose no more time in
Southwark, but move at once through Kent, toward Monkās 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 āabout to joinā
the youth and the King did not exactly join 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 hereāit was
Hendonās place to come to him, not his to go to Hendon. He would not
endure such insolence; he would stop where he was. The youth saidā
āThouālt tarry here, and thy friend lying wounded in the wood yonder? So
be it, then.ā
The Kingās manner changed at once. He cried outā
āWounded? And who hath dared to do it? But that is apart; lead on, lead
on! Faster, sirrah! Art shod with lead? Wounded, is he? Now though
the doer of it be a dukeās son he shall rue it!ā
It 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 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 askedā
āWhere is he?ā
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 his ear. It was from the lame
ruffian who had been following at a distance. The King turned and said
angrilyā
āWho art thou? What is thy business here?ā
āLeave thy foolery,ā said the man, āand quiet thyself. My disguise is
none so good that thou canst pretend thou knowest not thy father through
it.ā
āThou 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.ā
John Canty replied, in a stern and measured voiceā
āIt is plain thou art mad, and I am loath to punish thee; but if thou
provoke me, I must. Thy prating doth no harm here, where there are no
ears that need to mind thy follies; yet it is well to practise thy tongue
to wary speech, that it may do no hurt when our quarters change. I have
done a murder, and may not tarry at homeāneither shalt thou, seeing I
need thy service. My name is changed, for wise reasons; it is Hobbsā
John Hobbs; thine is Jackācharge thy memory accordingly. Now, then,
speak. Where is thy mother? Where are thy sisters? They came not to
the place appointedāknowest thou whither they went?ā
The King answered sullenlyā
āTrouble me not with these riddles. My mother is dead; my sisters are in
the palace.ā
The youth near by burst into a derisive laugh, and the King would have
assaulted him, but Cantyāor Hobbs, as he now called himselfāprevented
him, and saidā
āPeace, Hugo, vex him not; his mind is astray, and thy ways fret him.
Sit thee down, Jack, and quiet thyself; thou shalt have a morsel to eat,
anon.ā
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 a 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
Comments (0)