The Prince and the Pauper

Mark Twain

• Publisher: Youcanprint
• Year: 2017
• ISBN:
  9788892662674
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: Classics
• Index: Literature

Tom Canty, a hopeful young pauper with an alcoholic and abusive father, has a chance encounter with the young Prince of Wales, Edward VI, outside of the palace. Discovering an uncanny resemblance to each other, the two boys switch clothes and lives—the prince heading for the streets of London while Tom remains at court. As each boy experiences life on the other end of the social scale, both learn valuable lessons about the roles they play in society and their corresponding responsibilities. Mark Twain's first attempt at historical fiction, The Prince and the Pauper has been adapted many times in multiple mediums since it was first published in 1881. The story has also become an archetypal inspiration for many similar "trading places" stories in which characters from different walks of life are moved by circumstances to experience others' lives first hand.

Chapter I. The birth of the Prince and the Pauper.

In the ancient city of London, on a certain autumn day in the second quarter of the sixteenth century, a boy was born to a poor family of the name of Canty, who did not want him. On the same day another English child was born to a rich family of the name of Tudor, who did want him. All England wanted him too. England had so longed for him, and hoped for him, and prayed God for him, that, now that he was really come, the people went nearly mad for joy. Mere acquaintances hugged and kissed each other and cried. Everybody took a holiday, and high and low, rich and poor, feasted and danced and sang, and got very mellow; and they kept this up for days and nights together. By day, London was a sight to see, with gay banners waving from every balcony and housetop, and splendid pageants marching along. By night, it was again a sight to see, with its great bonfires at every corner, and its troops of revellers making merry around them. There was no talk in all England but of the new baby, Edward Tudor, Prince of Wales, who lay lapped in silks and satins, unconscious of all this fuss, and not knowing that great lords and ladies were tending him and watching over him—and not caring, either. But there was no talk about the other baby, Tom Canty, lapped in his poor rags, except among the family of paupers whom he had just come to trouble with his presence.

Chapter II. Tom’s early life.

Let us skip a number of years.

London was fifteen hundred years old, and was a greattown—for that day. It had a hundred thousandinhabitants—some think double as many. The streets werevery narrow, and crooked, and dirty, especially in the part whereTom Canty lived, which was not far from London Bridge. Thehouses were of wood, with the second story projecting over thefirst, and the third sticking its elbows out beyond the second. The higher the houses grew, the broader they grew. Theywere skeletons of strong criss-cross beams, with solid materialbetween, coated with plaster. The beams were painted red orblue or black, according to the owner’s taste, and this gavethe houses a very picturesque look. The windows were small,glazed with little diamond-shaped panes, and they opened outward,on hinges, like doors.

The house which Tom’s father lived in was up a foul littlepocket called Offal Court, out of Pudding Lane. It was small,decayed, and rickety, but it was packed full of wretchedly poorfamilies. Canty’s tribe occupied a room on the third floor. The mother and father had a sort of bedstead in the corner;but Tom, his grandmother, and his two sisters, Bet and Nan, werenot restricted—they had all the floor to themselves, andmight sleep where they chose. There were the remains of ablanket or two, and some bundles of ancient and dirty straw, butthese could not rightly be called beds, for they were notorganised; they were kicked into a general pile, mornings, andselections made from the mass at night, for service.

Bet and Nan were fifteen years old—twins. They weregood-hearted girls, unclean, clothed in rags, and profoundlyignorant. Their mother was like them. But the fatherand the grandmother were a couple of fiends. They got drunkwhenever they could; then they fought each other or anybody elsewho came in the way; they cursed and swore always, drunk or sober;John Canty was a thief, and his mother a beggar. They madebeggars of the children, but failed to make thieves of them. Among, but not of, the dreadful rabble that inhabited thehouse, was a good old priest whom the King had turned out of houseand home with a pension of a few farthings, and he used to get thechildren aside and teach them right ways secretly. Father Andrewalso taught Tom a little Latin, and how to read and write; andwould have done the same with the girls, but they were afraid ofthe jeers of their friends, who could not have endured such a queeraccomplishment in them.

All Offal Court was just such another hive as Canty’shouse. Drunkenness, riot and brawling were the order, there, everynight and nearly all night long. Broken heads were as commonas hunger in that place. Yet little Tom was not unhappy. He had a hard time of it, but did not know it. It wasthe sort of time that all the Offal Court boys had, therefore hesupposed it was the correct and comfortable thing. When hecame home empty-handed at night, he knew his father would curse himand thrash him first, and that when he was done the awfulgrandmother would do it all over again and improve on it; and thataway in the night his starving mother would slip to him stealthilywith any miserable scrap or crust she had been able to save for himby going hungry herself, notwithstanding she was often caught inthat sort of treason and soundly beaten for it by her husband.

No, Tom’s life went along well enough, especially insummer. He only begged just enough to save himself, for thelaws against mendicancy were stringent, and the penalties heavy; sohe put in a good deal of his time listening to good FatherAndrew’s charming old tales and legends about giants andfairies, dwarfs and genii, and enchanted castles, and gorgeouskings and princes. His head grew to be full of thesewonderful things, and many a night as he lay in the dark on hisscant and offensive straw, tired, hungry, and smarting from athrashing, he unleashed his imagination and soon forgot his achesand pains in delicious picturings to himself of the charmed life ofa petted prince in a regal palace. One desire came in time tohaunt him day and night: it was to see a real prince, withhis own eyes. Hespoke of it once to some of his Offal Courtcomrades; but they jeered him and scoffed him so unmercifully thathe was glad to keep his dream to himself after that.

He often read the priest’s old books and got him toexplain and enlarge upon them. His dreamings and readingsworked certain changes in him, by- and-by. His dream-peoplewere so fine that he grew to lament his shabby clothing and hisdirt, and to wish to be clean and better clad. He went onplaying in the mud just the same, and enjoying it, too; but,instead of splashing around in the Thames solely for the fun of it,he began to find an added value in it because of the washings andcleansings it afforded.

Tom could always find something going on around the Maypole inCheapside, and at the fairs; and now and then he and the rest ofLondon had a chance to see a military parade when some famousunfortunate was carried prisoner to the Tower, by land or boat. Onesummer’s day he saw poor Anne Askew and three men burned atthe stake in Smithfield, and heard an ex-Bishop preach a sermon tothem which did not interest him. Yes, Tom’s life wasvaried and pleasant enough, on the whole.

By-and-by Tom’s reading and dreaming about princely lifewrought such a strong effect upon him that he began toacttheprince, unconsciously. His speech and manners became curiouslyceremonious and courtly, to the vast admiration and amusement ofhis intimates. But Tom’s influence among these youngpeople began to grow now, day by day; and in time he came to belooked up to, by them, with a sort of wondering awe, as a superiorbeing. He seemed to know so much! and he could do and saysuch marvellous things! and withal, he was so deep and wise! Tom’s remarks, and Tom’s performances, werereported by the boys to their elders; and these, also, presentlybegan to discuss Tom Canty, and to regard him as a most gifted andextraordinary creature. Full-grown people brought theirperplexities to Tom for solution, and were often astonished at thewit and wisdom of his decisions. In fact he was become a heroto all who knew him except his own family—these, only, sawnothing in him.

Privately, after a while, Tom organised a royal court! Hewas the prince; his special comrades were guards, chamberlains,equerries, lords and ladies in waiting, and the royal family. Daily the mock prince was received with elaborate ceremonialsborrowed by Tom from his romantic readings; daily the great affairsof the mimic kingdom were discussed in the royal council, and dailyhis mimic highness issued decrees to his imaginary armies, navies,and viceroyalties.

After which, he would go forth in his rags and beg a fewfarthings, eat his poor crust, take his customary cuffs and abuse,and then stretch himself upon his handful of foul straw, and resumehis empty grandeurs in his dreams.

And still his desire to look just once upon a real prince, inthe flesh, grew upon him, day by day, and week by week, until atlast it absorbed all other desires, and became the one passion ofhis life.

One January day, on his usual begging tour, he trampeddespondently up and down the region round about Mincing Lane andLittle East Cheap, hour after hour, bare-footed and cold, lookingin at cook-shop windows and longing for the dreadful pork-pies andother deadly inventions displayed there—for to him these weredainties fit for the angels; that is, judging by the smell, theywere—for it had never been his good luck to own and eat one.There was a cold drizzle of rain; the atmosphere was murky; it wasa melancholy day. At night Tom reached home so wet and tiredand hungry that it was not possible for his father and grandmotherto observe his forlorn condition and not be moved—after theirfashion; wherefore they gave him a brisk cuffing at once and senthim to bed. For a long time his pain and hunger, and theswearing and fighting going on in the building, kept him awake; butat last his thoughts drifted away to far, romantic lands, and hefell asleep in the company of jewelled and gilded princelings wholive in vast palaces, and had servants salaaming before them orflying to execute their orders. And then, as usual, hedreamed thathewas a princeling himself.

All night long the glories of his royal estate shone upon him;he moved among great lords and ladies, in a blaze of light,breathing perfumes, drinking in delicious music, and answering thereverent obeisances of the glittering throng as it parted to makeway for him, with here a smile, and there a nod of his princelyhead.

And when he awoke in the morning and looked upon thewretchedness about him, his dream had had its usual effect—ithad intensified the sordidness of his surroundings a thousandfold. Then came bitterness, and heart-break, and tears.

Chapter III. Tom’s meeting with the Prince.

Tom got up hungry, and sauntered hungry away, but with histhoughts busy with the shadowy splendours of his night’sdreams. He wandered here and there in the city, hardly noticingwhere he was going, or what was happening around him. Peoplejostled him, and some gave him rough speech; but it was all lost onthe musing boy. By-and-by he found himself at Temple Bar, thefarthest from home he had ever travelled in that direction. He stopped and considered a moment, then fell into hisimaginings again, and passed onoutside the walls of London. The Strand had ceased to be a country-road then, and regardeditself as a street, but by a strained construction; for, thoughthere was a tolerably compact row of houses on one side of it,there were only some scattered great buildings on the other, thesebeing palaces of rich nobles, with ample and beautiful groundsstretching to the river—grounds that are now closely packedwith grim acres of brick and stone.

Tom discovered Charing Village presently, and rested himself atthe beautiful cross built there by a bereaved king of earlier days;then idled down a quiet, lovely road, past the greatcardinal’s stately palace, toward a far more mighty andmajestic palace beyond—Westminster. Tom stared in glad wonderat the vast pile of masonry, the wide-spreading wings, the frowningbastions and turrets, the huge stone gateway, with its gilded barsand its magnificent array of colossal granite lions, and other thesigns and symbols of English royalty. Was the desire of hissoul to be satisfied at last? Here, indeed, was aking’s palace. Might he not hope to see a princenow—a prince of flesh and blood, if Heaven were willing?

At each side of the gilded gate stood a living statue—thatis to say, an erect and stately and motionless man-at-arms, cladfrom head to heel in shining steel armour. At a respectfuldistance were many country folk, and people from the city, waitingfor any chance glimpse of royalty that might offer. Splendidcarriages, with splendid people in them and splendid servantsoutside, were arriving and departing by several other noblegateways that pierced the royal enclosure.

Poor little Tom, in his rags, approached, and was moving slowlyand timidly past the sentinels, with a beating heart and a risinghope, when all at once he caught sight through the golden bars of aspectacle that almost made him shout for joy. Within was acomely boy, tanned and brown with sturdy outdoor sports andexercises, whose clothing was all of lovely silks and satins,shining with jewels; at his hip a little jewelled sword and dagger;dainty buskins on his feet, with red heels; and on his head ajaunty crimson cap, with drooping plumes fastened with a greatsparkling gem. Several gorgeous gentlemen stoodnear—his servants, without a doubt. Oh! he was aprince—a prince, a living prince, a real prince—withoutthe shadow of a question; and the prayer of the pauper-boy’sheart was answered at last.

Tom’s breath came quick and short with excitement, and hiseyes grew big with wonder and delight. Everything gave way inhis mind instantly to one desire: that was to get close tothe prince, and have a good, devouring look at him. Before heknew what he was about, he had his face against the gate-bars. The next instant one of the soldiers snatched him rudelyaway, and sent him spinning among the gaping crowd of country gawksand London idlers. The soldier said,—

“Mind thy manners, thou young beggar!”

The crowd jeered and laughed; but the young prince sprang to thegate with his face flushed, and his eyes flashing with indignation,and cried out,—

“How dar’st thou use a poor lad like that? Howdar’st thou use the King my father’s meanest subjectso? Open the gates, and let him in!”

You should have seen that fickle crowd snatch off their hatsthen. You should have heard them cheer, and shout, “Long livethe Prince of Wales!”

The soldiers presented arms with their halberds, opened thegates, and presented again as the little Prince of Poverty passedin, in his fluttering rags, to join hands with the Prince ofLimitless Plenty.

Edward Tudor said—

“Thou lookest tired and hungry: thou’st beentreated ill. Come with me.”

Half a dozen attendants sprang forward to—I don’tknow what; interfere, no doubt. But they were waved asidewith a right royal gesture, and they stopped stock still where theywere, like so many statues. Edward took Tom to a richapartment in the palace, which he called his cabinet. By hiscommand a repast was brought such as Tom had never encounteredbefore except in books. The prince, with princely delicacyand breeding, sent away the servants, so that his humble guestmight not be embarrassed by their critical presence; then he satnear by, and asked questions while Tom ate.

“What is thy name, lad?”

“Tom Canty, an’ it please thee, sir.”

“‘Tis an odd one. Where dost live?”

“In the city, please thee, sir. Offal Court, out ofPudding Lane.”

“Offal Court! Truly ‘tis another odd one. Hast parents?”

“Parents have I, sir, and a grand-dam likewise that is butindifferently precious to me, God forgive me if it be offence tosay it—also twin sisters, Nan and Bet.”

“Then is thy grand-dam not over kind to thee, I takeit?”

“Neither to any other is she, so please your worship. She hath a wicked heart, and worketh evil all herdays.”

“Doth she mistreat thee?”

“There be times that she stayeth her hand, being asleep orovercome with drink; but when she hath her judgment clear again,she maketh it up to me with goodly beatings.”

A fierce look came into the little prince’s eyes, and hecried out—

“What! Beatings?”

“Oh, indeed, yes, please you, sir.”

“Beatings!—and thou so frail and little. Harkye: before the night come, she shall hie her to the Tower. The King my father”—

“In sooth, you forget, sir, her low degree. TheTower is for the great alone.”

“True, indeed. I had not thought of that. Iwill consider of her punishment. Is thy father kind tothee?”

“Not more than Gammer Canty, sir.”

“Fathers be alike, mayhap. Mine hath not adoll’s temper. He smiteth with a heavy hand, yetspareth me: he spareth me not always with his tongue, though,sooth to say. How doth thy mother use thee?”

“She is good, sir, and giveth me neither sorrow nor painof any sort. And Nan and Bet are like to her in this.”

“How old be these?”

“Fifteen, an’ it please you, sir.”

“The Lady Elizabeth, my sister, is fourteen, and the LadyJane Grey, my cousin, is of mine own age, and comely and graciouswithal; but my sister the Lady Mary, with her gloomy mienand—Look you: do thy sisters forbid their servants tosmile, lest the sin destroy their souls?”

“They? Oh, dost think, sir, thattheyhaveservants?”

The lit...