Chapter V. Tom as a patrician.

by Mark Twain

　　Tom Canty, left alone in the prince's cabinet, made good use ofhis opportunity. He turned himself this way and that before thegreat mirror, admiring his finery; then walked away, imitating theprince's high-bred carriage, and still observing results in theglass. Next he drew the beautiful sword, and bowed, kissing theblade, and laying it across his breast, as he had seen a nobleknight do, by way of salute to the lieutenant of the Tower, fiveor six weeks before, when delivering the great lords of Norfolkand Surrey into his hands for captivity. Tom played with thejewelled dagger that hung upon his thigh; he examined the costlyand exquisite ornaments of the room; he tried each of thesumptuous chairs, and thought how proud he would be if the OffalCourt herd could only peep in and see him in his grandeur. Hewondered if they would believe the marvellous tale he should tellwhen he got home, or if they would shake their heads, and say hisovertaxed imagination had at last upset his reason.At the end of half an hour it suddenly occurred to him that theprince was gone a long time; then right away he began to feellonely; very soon he fell to listening and longing, and ceased totoy with the pretty things about him; he grew uneasy, thenrestless, then distressed. Suppose some one should come, andcatch him in the prince's clothes, and the prince not there toexplain. Might they not hang him at once, and inquire into hiscase afterward? He had heard that the great were prompt aboutsmall matters. His fear rose higher and higher; and trembling hesoftly opened the door to the antechamber, resolved to fly andseek the prince, and, through him, protection and release. Sixgorgeous gentlemen-servants and two young pages of high degree,clothed like butterflies, sprang to their feet and bowed lowbefore him. He stepped quickly back and shut the door. He said--"Oh, they mock at me! They will go and tell. Oh! why came I hereto cast away my life?"He walked up and down the floor, filled with nameless fears,listening, starting at every trifling sound. Presently the doorswung open, and a silken page said--"The Lady Jane Grey."The door closed and a sweet young girl, richly clad, boundedtoward him. But she stopped suddenly, and said in a distressedvoice--"Oh, what aileth thee, my lord?"Tom's breath was nearly failing him; but he made shift to stammerout--"Ah, be merciful, thou! In sooth I am no lord, but only poor TomCanty of Offal Court in the city. Prithee let me see the prince,and he will of his grace restore to me my rags, and let me henceunhurt. Oh, be thou merciful, and save me!"By this time the boy was on his knees, and supplicating with hiseyes and uplifted hands as well as with his tongue. The younggirl seemed horror-stricken. She cried out--"O my lord, on thy knees?--and to me!"Then she fled away in fright; and Tom, smitten with despair, sankdown, murmuring--"There is no help, there is no hope. Now will they come and takeme."Whilst he lay there benumbed with terror, dreadful tidings werespeeding through the palace. The whisper--for it was whisperedalways--flew from menial to menial, from lord to lady, down allthe long corridors, from story to story, from saloon to saloon,"The prince hath gone mad, the prince hath gone mad!" Soon everysaloon, every marble hall, had its groups of glittering lords andladies, and other groups of dazzling lesser folk, talkingearnestly together in whispers, and every face had in it dismay.Presently a splendid official came marching by these groups,making solemn proclamation--"IN THE NAME OF THE KING!Let none list to this false and foolish matter, upon pain ofdeath, nor discuss the same, nor carry it abroad. In the name ofthe King!"The whisperings ceased as suddenly as if the whisperers had beenstricken dumb.Soon there was a general buzz along the corridors, of "The prince!See, the prince comes!"Poor Tom came slowly walking past the low-bowing groups, trying tobow in return, and meekly gazing upon his strange surroundingswith bewildered and pathetic eyes. Great nobles walked upon eachside of him, making him lean upon them, and so steady his steps.Behind him followed the court-physicians and some servants.Presently Tom found himself in a noble apartment of the palace andheard the door close behind him. Around him stood those who hadcome with him. Before him, at a little distance, reclined a verylarge and very fat man, with a wide, pulpy face, and a sternexpression. His large head was very grey; and his whiskers, whichhe wore only around his face, like a frame, were grey also. Hisclothing was of rich stuff, but old, and slightly frayed inplaces. One of his swollen legs had a pillow under it, and waswrapped in bandages. There was silence now; and there was no headthere but was bent in reverence, except this man's. This stern-countenanced invalid was the dread Henry VIII. He said--and hisface grew gentle as he began to speak--"How now, my lord Edward, my prince? Hast been minded to cozenme, the good King thy father, who loveth thee, and kindly useththee, with a sorry jest?"Poor Tom was listening, as well as his dazed faculties would lethim, to the beginning of this speech; but when the words 'me, thegood King' fell upon his ear, his face blanched, and he dropped asinstantly upon his knees as if a shot had brought him there.Lifting up his hands, he exclaimed--"Thou the king? Then am I undone indeed!"This speech seemed to stun the King. His eyes wandered from faceto face aimlessly, then rested, bewildered, upon the boy beforehim. Then he said in a tone of deep disappointment--"Alack, I had believed the rumour disproportioned to the truth;but I fear me 'tis not so." He breathed a heavy sigh, and said ina gentle voice, "Come to thy father, child: thou art not well."Tom was assisted to his feet, and approached the Majesty ofEngland, humble and trembling. The King took the frightened facebetween his hands, and gazed earnestly and lovingly into itawhile, as if seeking some grateful sign of returning reasonthere, then pressed the curly head against his breast, and pattedit tenderly. Presently he said--"Dost not know thy father, child? Break not mine old heart; saythou know'st me. Thou dost know me, dost thou not?""Yea: thou art my dread lord the King, whom God preserve!""True, true--that is well--be comforted, tremble not so; there isnone here would hurt thee; there is none here but loves thee.Thou art better now; thy ill dream passeth--is't not so? Thouwilt not miscall thyself again, as they say thou didst a littlewhile agone?""I pray thee of thy grace believe me, I did but speak the truth,most dread lord; for I am the meanest among thy subjects, being apauper born, and 'tis by a sore mischance and accident I am here,albeit I was therein nothing blameful. I am but young to die, andthou canst save me with one little word. Oh speak it, sir!""Die? Talk not so, sweet prince--peace, peace, to thy troubledheart--thou shalt not die!"Tom dropped upon his knees with a glad cry--"God requite thy mercy, O my King, and save thee long to bless thyland!" Then springing up, he turned a joyful face toward the twolords in waiting, and exclaimed, "Thou heard'st it! I am not todie: the King hath said it!" There was no movement, save thatall bowed with grave respect; but no one spoke. He hesitated, alittle confused, then turned timidly toward the King, saying, "Imay go now?""Go? Surely, if thou desirest. But why not tarry yet a little?Whither would'st go?"Tom dropped his eyes, and answered humbly--"Peradventure I mistook; but I did think me free, and so was Imoved to seek again the kennel where I was born and bred tomisery, yet which harboureth my mother and my sisters, and so ishome to me; whereas these pomps and splendours whereunto I am notused--oh, please you, sir, to let me go!"The King was silent and thoughtful a while, and his face betrayeda growing distress and uneasiness. Presently he said, withsomething of hope in his voice--"Perchance he is but mad upon this one strain, and hath his witsunmarred as toucheth other matter. God send it may be so! Wewill make trial."Then he asked Tom a question in Latin, and Tom answered him lamelyin the same tongue. The lords and doctors manifested theirgratification also. The King said--"'Twas not according to his schooling and ability, but showeththat his mind is but diseased, not stricken fatally. How say you,sir?"The physician addressed bowed low, and replied--"It jumpeth with my own conviction, sire, that thou hast divinedaright."The King looked pleased with this encouragement, coming as it didfrom so excellent authority, and continued with good heart--"Now mark ye all: we will try him further."He put a question to Tom in French. Tom stood silent a moment,embarrassed by having so many eyes centred upon him, then saiddiffidently--"I have no knowledge of this tongue, so please your majesty."The King fell back upon his couch. The attendants flew to hisassistance; but he put them aside, and said--"Trouble me not--it is nothing but a scurvy faintness. Raise me!There, 'tis sufficient. Come hither, child; there, rest thy poortroubled head upon thy father's heart, and be at peace. Thou'ltsoon be well: 'tis but a passing fantasy. Fear thou not; thou'ltsoon be well." Then he turned toward the company: his gentlemanner changed, and baleful lightnings began to play from hiseyes. He said--"List ye all! This my son is mad; but it is not permanent. Over-study hath done this, and somewhat too much of confinement. Awaywith his books and teachers! see ye to it. Pleasure him withsports, beguile him in wholesome ways, so that his health comeagain." He raised himself higher still, and went on with energy,"He is mad; but he is my son, and England's heir; and, mad orsane, still shall he reign! And hear ye further, and proclaim it:whoso speaketh of this his distemper worketh against the peace andorder of these realms, and shall to the gallows! . . . Give me todrink--I burn: this sorrow sappeth my strength. . . . There, takeaway the cup. . . . Support me. There, that is well. Mad, is he?Were he a thousand times mad, yet is he Prince of Wales, and I theKing will confirm it. This very morrow shall he be installed inhis princely dignity in due and ancient form. Take instant orderfor it, my lord Hertford."One of the nobles knelt at the royal couch, and said--"The King's majesty knoweth that the Hereditary Great Marshal ofEngland lieth attainted in the Tower. It were not meet that oneattainted--""Peace! Insult not mine ears with his hated name. Is this man tolive for ever? Am I to be baulked of my will? Is the prince totarry uninstalled, because, forsooth, the realm lacketh an EarlMarshal free of treasonable taint to invest him with his honours?No, by the splendour of God! Warn my Parliament to bring meNorfolk's doom before the sun rise again, else shall they answerfor it grievously!" {1}Lord Hertford said--"The King's will is law;" and, rising, returned to his formerplace.Gradually the wrath faded out of the old King's face, and he said--"Kiss me, my prince. There . . . what fearest thou? Am I not thyloving father?""Thou art good to me that am unworthy, O mighty and gracious lord:that in truth I know. But--but--it grieveth me to think of himthat is to die, and--""Ah, 'tis like thee, 'tis like thee! I know thy heart is stillthe same, even though thy mind hath suffered hurt, for thou wertever of a gentle spirit. But this duke standeth between thee andthine honours: I will have another in his stead that shall bringno taint to his great office. Comfort thee, my prince: troublenot thy poor head with this matter.""But is it not I that speed him hence, my liege? How long mighthe not live, but for me?""Take no thought of him, my prince: he is not worthy. Kiss meonce again, and go to thy trifles and amusements; for my maladydistresseth me. I am aweary, and would rest. Go with thine uncleHertford and thy people, and come again when my body isrefreshed."Tom, heavy-hearted, was conducted from the presence, for this lastsentence was a death-blow to the hope he had cherished that now hewould be set free. Once more he heard the buzz of low voicesexclaiming, "The prince, the prince comes!"His spirits sank lower and lower as he moved between theglittering files of bowing courtiers; for he recognised that hewas indeed a captive now, and might remain for ever shut up inthis gilded cage, a forlorn and friendless prince, except God inhis mercy take pity on him and set him free.And, turn where he would, he seemed to see floating in the air thesevered head and the remembered face of the great Duke of Norfolk,the eyes fixed on him reproachfully.His old dreams had been so pleasant; but this reality was sodreary!