The Prince and the Pauper Mark Twain (readict books .TXT) đ
- Author: Mark Twain
Book online «The Prince and the Pauper Mark Twain (readict books .TXT) đ». Author Mark Twain
In our town did dwellâ ââ
âHe stirred, methinksâ âI must sing in a less thunderous key; âtis not good to mar his sleep, with this journey before him, and he so wearied out, poor chapâ ââ ⊠This garmentâ ââtis well enoughâ âa stitch here and another one there will set it aright. This other is better, albeit a stitch or two will not come amiss in it, likewiseâ ââ ⊠These be very good and sound, and will keep his small feet warm and dryâ âan odd new thing to him, belike, since he has doubtless been used to foot it bare, winters and summers the sameâ ââ ⊠Would thread were bread, seeing one getteth a yearâs sufficiency for a farthing, and such a brave big needle without cost, for mere love. Now shall I have the demonâs own time to thread it!â
And so he had. He did as men have always done, and probably always will do, to the end of timeâ âheld the needle still, and tried to thrust the thread through the eye, which is the opposite of a womanâs 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.
âThe inn is paidâ âthe breakfast that is to come, includedâ âand 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 Hallâ â
âââShe loved her husâ ââ
âBody oâ me! I have driven the needle under my nail!â ââ ⊠It matters littleâ ââtis not a noveltyâ âyet âtis not a convenience, neither.â ââ ⊠We shall be merry there, little one, never doubt it! Thy troubles will vanish there, and likewise thy sad distemperâ â
âââShe loved her husband dearilee,
But another manâ ââ
âThese be noble large stitches!ââ âholding the garment up and viewing it admiringlyâ ââthey have a grandeur and a majesty that do cause these small stingy ones of the tailor-man to look mightily paltry and plebeianâ â
âââShe loved her husband dearilee,
But another man he loved sheâ ââ
âMarry, âtis doneâ âa goodly piece of work, too, and wrought with expedition. Now will I wake him, apparel him, pour for him, feed him, and then will we hie us to the mart by the Tabard Inn in Southwark andâ âbe pleased to rise, my liege!â âhe answereth notâ âwhat ho, my liege!â âof a truth must I profane his sacred person with a touch, sith his slumber is deaf to speech. What!â
He threw back the coversâ âthe boy was gone!
He stared about him in speechless astonishment for a moment; noticed for the first time that his wardâs 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.
âExplain, thou limb of Satan, or thy time is come!â 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. âWhere is the boy?â
In disjointed and trembling syllables the man gave the information desired.
âYou were hardly gone from the place, your worship, when a youth came running and said it was your worshipâs 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 and gave his message, the lad did grumble some little for being disturbed âso early,â as he called it, but straightway trussed on his rags and went with the youth, only saying it had been better manners that your worship came yourself, not sent a strangerâ âand soâ ââ
âAnd so thouârt a fool!â âa fool and easily cozenedâ âhang all thy breed! Yet mayhap no hurt is done. Possibly no harm is meant the boy. I will go fetch him. Make the table ready. Stay! the coverings of the bed were disposed as if one lay beneath themâ âhappened that by accident?â
âI know not, good your worship. I saw the youth meddle with themâ âhe that came for the boy.â
âThousand deaths! âTwas done to deceive meâ ââtis plain âtwas done to gain time. Hark ye! Was that youth alone?â
âAll alone, your worship.â
âArt sure?â
âSure, your worship.â
âCollect thy scattered witsâ âbethink theeâ âtake time, man.â
After a momentâs thought, the servant saidâ â
âWhen he came, none came with him; but now I remember me that as the two stepped into the throng of the Bridge, a ruffian-looking man plunged out from some near place; and just as he was joining themâ ââ
âWhat then?â âout with it!â thundered the impatient Hendon, interrupting.
âJust then 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 that miscarriage were like holding the unborn babe to judgment for sins comâ ââ
âOut of my sight, idiot! Thy prating drives me mad! Hold! Whither art flying? Canst not bide still an instant? Went they toward Southwark?â
âEven so, your worshipâ âfor, as I said before, as to that detestable joint, the babe unborn is no whit more blameless thanâ ââ
âArt here yet! And prating still! Vanish, lest I throttle thee!â The servitor vanished. Hendon followed after him, passed him, and plunged down the stairs two steps at a stride, muttering, âââTis that scurvy villain that claimed he was his son. I have lost thee, my poor little mad masterâ âit is a bitter thoughtâ âand 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 breakfastâ âand mine, but I have no hunger now; so, let the rats have itâ âspeed, speed! that is the word!â As he wormed his
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