The Prince and the Pauper
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.” Then he said
aloud--
“And hast thou been beaten, poor friend, according to the promise?”
“No, good your Majesty, my punishment was appointed for this day, and
peradventure it may be annulled, as unbefitting the season of mourning
that is come upon us; I know not, and so have made bold to come hither
and remind your Grace about your gracious promise to intercede in my
behalf--”
“With the master? To save thee thy whipping?”
“Ah, thou dost remember!”
“My memory mendeth, thou seest. Set thy mind at ease--thy back shall go
unscathed--I will see to it.”
“Oh, thanks, my good lord!” cried the boy, dropping upon his knee again.
“Mayhap I have ventured far enow; and yet--”
Seeing Master Humphrey hesitate, Tom encouraged him to go on, saying he
was “in the granting mood.”
“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 wilt burn thy books and
turn thy mind to things less irksome. Then am I ruined, and mine orphan
sisters with me!”
“Ruined? Prithee how?”
“My back is my bread, O my gracious liege! 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!”
Tom was touched with this pathetic distress. He said, with a right
royal burst of generosity--
“Discomfort thyself no further, lad. Thine office shall be permanent in
thee and thy line for ever.” Then he struck the boy a light blow on the
shoulder with the flat of his sword, exclaiming, “Rise, Humphrey Marlow,
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.”
The grateful Humphrey responded fervidly--
“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 Marlow after me.”
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 ‘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 hopeful voice--
“Now am I persuaded that if your Majesty will but tax your memory yet
a little further, it will resolve the puzzle of the Great Seal--a loss
which was of moment yesterday, although of none to-day, since its term
of service ended with our late lord’s life. May it please your Grace to
make the trial?”
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 himself, “Alack,
his wits are flown again!--it was ill wisdom to lead him on to strain
them”--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.
CHAPTER XV. Tom as King.
The next day the foreign ambassadors came, with their gorgeous trains;
and Tom, throned in awful state, received them. The splendours 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
home-sickness 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 labours 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; 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
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 disorderly men, women, and children of the lowest
and poorest degree approaching from up the road.
“I would I knew what ’tis about!” he exclaimed, with all a boy’s
curiosity in such happenings.
“Thou art the King!” solemnly responded the Earl, with a reverence.
“Have I your Grace’s leave to act?”
“O blithely, yes! O gladly, yes!” exclaimed Tom excitedly, adding to
himself with a lively sense of satisfaction, “In truth, being a king is
not all dreariness--it hath its compensations and conveniences.”
The Earl called a page, and sent him to the captain of the guard with
the order--
“Let the mob be halted, and inquiry made concerning the occasion of its
movement. By the King’s command!”
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 heart-strings. 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 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 himself, “Truly it is like
what I was used to feel when I read the old priest’s 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 hindrance to my
will.”
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