Chapter IV. The Prince's troubles begin.

by Mark Twain

　　After hours of persistent pursuit and persecution, the littleprince was at last deserted by the rabble and left to himself. Aslong as he had been able to rage against the mob, and threaten itroyally, and royally utter commands that were good stuff to laughat, he was very entertaining; but when weariness finally forcedhim to be silent, he was no longer of use to his tormentors, andthey sought amusement elsewhere. He looked about him, now, butcould not recognise the locality. He was within the city ofLondon--that was all he knew. He moved on, aimlessly, and in alittle while the houses thinned, and the passers-by wereinfrequent. He bathed his bleeding feet in the brook which flowedthen where Farringdon Street now is; rested a few moments, thenpassed on, and presently came upon a great space with only a fewscattered houses in it, and a prodigious church. He recognisedthis church. Scaffoldings were about, everywhere, and swarms ofworkmen; for it was undergoing elaborate repairs. The prince tookheart at once--he felt that his troubles were at an end, now. Hesaid to himself, "It is the ancient Grey Friars' Church, which theking my father hath taken from the monks and given for a home forever for poor and forsaken children, and new-named it Christ'sChurch. Right gladly will they serve the son of him who hath doneso generously by them--and the more that that son is himself aspoor and as forlorn as any that be sheltered here this day, orever 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 disportingthemselves, and right noisily, too. They were all dressed alike,and in the fashion which in that day prevailed among serving-menand 'prentices{1}--that is to say, each had on the crown of hishead a flat black cap about the size of a saucer, which was notuseful as a covering, it being of such scanty dimensions, neitherwas it ornamental; from beneath it the hair fell, unparted, to themiddle of the forehead, and was cropped straight around; aclerical band at the neck; a blue gown that fitted closely andhung as low as the knees or lower; full sleeves; a broad red belt;bright yellow stockings, gartered above the knees; low shoes withlarge metal buckles. It was a sufficiently ugly costume.The boys stopped their play and flocked about the prince, who saidwith native dignity--"Good lads, say to your master that Edward Prince of Walesdesireth speech with him."A great shout went up at this, and one rude fellow said--"Marry, art thou his grace's messenger, beggar?"The prince's face flushed with anger, and his ready hand flew tohis hip, but there was nothing there. There was a storm oflaughter, and one boy said--"Didst mark that? He fancied he had a sword--belike he is theprince himself."This sally brought more laughter. Poor Edward drew himself upproudly and said--"I am the prince; and it ill beseemeth you that feed upon the kingmy father's bounty to use me so."This was vastly enjoyed, as the laughter testified. The youth whohad first spoken, shouted to his comrades--"Ho, swine, slaves, pensioners of his grace's princely father,where be your manners? Down on your marrow bones, all of ye, anddo reverence to his kingly port and royal rags!"With boisterous mirth they dropped upon their knees in a body anddid mock homage to their prey. The prince spurned the nearest boywith his foot, and said fiercely--"Take thou that, till the morrow come and I build thee a gibbet!"Ah, but this was not a joke--this was going beyond fun. Thelaughter ceased on the instant, and fury took its place. A dozenshouted--"Hale him forth! To the horse-pond, to the horse-pond! Where bethe dogs? Ho, there, Lion! ho, Fangs!"Then followed such a thing as England had never seen before--thesacred person of the heir to the throne rudely buffeted byplebeian hands, and set upon and torn by dogs.As night drew to a close that day, the prince found himself fardown in the close-built portion of the city. His body wasbruised, his hands were bleeding, and his rags were all besmirchedwith mud. He wandered on and on, and grew more and morebewildered, and so tired and faint he could hardly drag one footafter the other. He had ceased to ask questions of anyone, sincethey brought him only insult instead of information. He keptmuttering to himself, "Offal Court--that is the name; if I can butfind it before my strength is wholly spent and I drop, then am Isaved--for his people will take me to the palace and prove that Iam none of theirs, but the true prince, and I shall have mine ownagain." And now and then his mind reverted to his treatment bythose rude Christ's Hospital boys, and he said, "When I am king,they shall not have bread and shelter only, but also teachings outof books; for a full belly is little worth where the mind isstarved, and the heart. I will keep this diligently in myremembrance, that this day's lesson be not lost upon me, and mypeople suffer thereby; for learning softeneth the heart andbreedeth gentleness and charity. {1}The lights began to twinkle, it came on to rain, the wind rose,and a raw and gusty night set in. The houseless prince, thehomeless heir to the throne of England, still moved on, driftingdeeper into the maze of squalid alleys where the swarming hives ofpoverty and misery were massed together.Suddenly a great drunken ruffian collared him and said--"Out to this time of night again, and hast not brought a farthinghome, I warrant me! If it be so, an' I do not break all the bonesin thy lean body, then am I not John Canty, but some other."The prince twisted himself loose, unconsciously brushed hisprofaned shoulder, and eagerly said--"Oh, art his father, truly? Sweet heaven grant it be so--thenwilt thou fetch him away and restore me!""His father? I know not what thou mean'st; I but know I am thyfather, as thou shalt soon have cause to--""Oh, jest not, palter not, delay not!--I am worn, I am wounded, Ican bear no more. Take me to the king my father, and he will makethee rich beyond thy wildest dreams. Believe me, man, believemeput forth thy hand andsave me! I am indeed the Prince of Wales!"The man stared down, stupefied, upon the lad, then shook his headand muttered--"Gone stark mad as any Tom o' Bedlam!"--then collared him oncemore, and said with a coarse laugh and an oath, "But mad or nomad, I and thy Gammer Canty will soon find where the soft placesin thy bones lie, or I'm no true man!"With this he dragged the frantic and struggling prince away, anddisappeared up a front court followed by a delighted and noisyswarm of human vermin.