Mark Twain: Personal Recollections of Joan of Arc, The Prince and the Pauper & A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court. Марк ТвенЧитать онлайн книгу.
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?”
“Ah, good your worship, what would they do with more? Truly they have not two bodies each.”
“It is a quaint and marvellous thought! Thy pardon, I had not meant to laugh. But thy good Nan and thy Bet shall have raiment and lackeys enow, and that soon, too: my cofferer shall look to it. No, thank me not; ‘tis nothing. Thou speakest well; thou hast an easy grace in it. Art learned?”
“I know not if I am or not, sir. The good priest that is called Father Andrew taught me, of his kindness, from his books.”
“Know’st thou the Latin?”
“But scantly, sir, I doubt.”
“Learn it, lad: ’tis hard only at first. The Greek is harder; but neither these nor any tongues else, I think, are hard to the Lady Elizabeth and my cousin. Thou should’st hear those damsels at it! But tell me of thy Offal Court. Hast thou a pleasant life there?”
“In truth, yes, so please you, sir, save when one is hungry. There be Punch-and-Judy shows, and monkeys — oh such antic creatures! and so bravely dressed! — and there be plays wherein they that play do shout and fight till all are slain, and ‘tis so fine to see, and costeth but a farthing — albeit ‘tis main hard to get the farthing, please your worship.”
“Tell me more.”
“We lads of Offal Court do strive against each other with the cudgel, like to the fashion of the ‘prentices, sometimes.”
The prince’s eyes flashed. Said he —
“Marry, that would not I mislike. Tell me more.”
“We strive in races, sir, to see who of us shall be fleetest.”
“That would I like also. Speak on.”
“In summer, sir, we wade and swim in the canals and in the river, and each doth duck his neighbour, and splatter him with water, and dive and shout and tumble and — ”
“‘Twould be worth my father’s kingdom but to enjoy it once! Prithee go on.”
“We dance and sing about the Maypole in Cheapside; we play in the sand, each covering his neighbour up; and times we make mud pastry — oh the lovely mud, it hath not its like for delightfulness in all the world! — we do fairly wallow in the mud, sir, saving your worship’s presence.”
“Oh, prithee, say no more, ‘tis glorious! If that I could but clothe me in raiment like to thine, and strip my feet, and revel in the mud once, just once, with none to rebuke me or forbid, meseemeth I could forego the crown!”
“And if that I could clothe me once, sweet sir, as thou art clad — just once — ”
“Oho, would’st like it? Then so shall it be. Doff thy rags, and don these splendours, lad! It is a brief happiness, but will be not less keen for that. We will have it while we may, and change again before any come to molest.”
A few minutes later the little Prince of Wales was garlanded with Tom’s fluttering odds and ends, and the little Prince of Pauperdom was tricked out in the gaudy plumage of royalty. The two went and stood side by side before a great mirror, and lo, a miracle: there did not seem to have been any change made! They stared at each other, then at the glass, then at each other again. At last the puzzled princeling said —
“What dost thou make of this?”
“Ah, good your worship, require me not to answer. It is not meet that one of my degree should utter the thing.”
“Then will I utter it. Thou hast the same hair, the same eyes, the same voice and manner, the same form and stature, the same face and countenance that I bear. Fared we forth naked, there is none could say which was you, and which the Prince of Wales. And, now that I am clothed as thou wert clothed, it seemeth I should be able the more nearly to feel as thou didst when the brute soldier — Hark ye, is not this a bruise upon your hand?”
“Yes; but it is a slight thing, and your worship knoweth that the poor man-at-arms — ”
“Peace! It was a shameful thing and a cruel!” cried the little prince, stamping his bare foot. ”If the King — Stir not a step till I come again! It is a command!”
In a moment he had snatched up and put away an article of national importance that lay upon a table, and was out at the door and flying through the palace grounds in his bannered rags, with a hot face and glowing eyes. As soon as he reached the great gate, he seized the bars, and tried to shake them, shouting —
“Open! Unbar the gates!”
The soldier that had maltreated Tom obeyed promptly; and as the prince burst through the portal, half-smothered with royal wrath, the soldier fetched him a sounding box on the ear that sent him whirling to the roadway, and said —
“Take that, thou beggar’s spawn, for what thou got’st me from his Highness!”
The crowd roared with laughter. The prince picked himself out of the mud, and made fiercely at the sentry, shouting —
“I am the Prince of Wales, my person is sacred; and thou shalt hang for laying thy hand upon me!”
The soldier brought his halberd to a present-arms and said mockingly —
“I salute your gracious Highness.” Then angrily — ”Be off, thou crazy rubbish!”
Here the jeering crowd closed round the poor little prince, and hustled him far down the road, hooting him, and shouting —
“Way for his Royal Highness! Way for the Prince of Wales!”
Chapter IV. The Prince’s troubles begin.
After hours of persistent pursuit and persecution, the little prince was at last deserted by the rabble and left to himself. As long as he had been able to rage against the mob, and threaten it royally, and royally utter commands that were good stuff to laugh at, he was very entertaining; but when weariness finally forced him to be silent, he was no longer of use to his tormentors, and they sought amusement elsewhere. He looked about him, now, but could not recognise the locality. He was within the city of London — that was all he knew. He moved on, aimlessly, and in a little while the houses thinned, and the passers-by were infrequent. He bathed his bleeding feet in the brook which flowed then where Farringdon Street now is; rested a few moments, then passed on, and presently came upon a great space with only a few scattered houses in it, and a prodigious church. He recognised this church. Scaffoldings were about, everywhere, and swarms of workmen; for it was undergoing elaborate repairs. The prince took heart at once — he felt that his troubles were at an end, now. He said to himself, “It is the ancient Grey Friars’ Church, which the king my father hath taken from the monks and given for a home for ever for poor and forsaken children, and new-named it Christ’s Church. Right gladly will they serve the son of him who hath done so generously by them — and the more that that son is himself as poor and as forlorn as any that be sheltered here this day, or ever shall be.”
He was soon in the midst of a crowd of boys who were running, jumping, playing at ball and leap-frog, and otherwise disporting themselves, and right noisily, too. They were all dressed alike, and in the fashion which in that day prevailed among serving-men and ‘prentices — that is to say, each had on the crown of his head a flat black cap about the size of a saucer, which was not useful as a covering, it being of such scanty dimensions, neither was it ornamental; from beneath it the hair fell, unparted, to the middle of the forehead, and was cropped