“Tarry! There’s fine mummeries here. Mar them not till thou’st
enjoyed them: then let thy hand be heavy as thou wilt. Stand
forth, lad. Now say thy foolery again, an thou’st not forgot it.
Name thy name. Who art thou?”
The insulted blood mounted to the little prince’s cheek once more,
and he lifted a steady and indignant gaze to the man’s face and
said–
“‘Tis but ill-breeding in such as thou to command me to speak. I
tell thee now, as I told thee before, I am Edward, Prince of
Wales, and none other.”
The stunning surprise of this reply nailed the hag’s feet to the
floor where she stood, and almost took her breath. She stared at
the Prince in stupid amazement, which so amused her ruffianly son,
that he burst into a roar of laughter. But the effect upon Tom
Canty’s mother and sisters was different. Their dread of bodily
injury gave way at once to distress of a different sort. They ran
forward with woe and dismay in their faces, exclaiming–
“Oh, poor Tom, poor lad!”
The mother fell on her knees before the Prince, put her hands upon
his shoulders, and gazed yearningly into his face through her
rising tears. Then she said–
“Oh, my poor boy! Thy foolish reading hath wrought its woeful
work at last, and ta’en thy wit away. Ah! why did’st thou cleave
to it when I so warned thee ‘gainst it? Thou’st broke thy
mother’s heart.”
The Prince looked into her face, and said gently–
“Thy son is well, and hath not lost his wits, good dame. Comfort
thee: let me to the palace where he is, and straightway will the
King my father restore him to thee.”
“The King thy father! Oh, my child! unsay these words that be
freighted with death for thee, and ruin for all that be near to
thee. Shake of this gruesome dream. Call back thy poor wandering
memory. Look upon me. Am not I thy mother that bore thee, and
loveth thee?”
The Prince shook his head and reluctantly said–
“God knoweth I am loth to grieve thy heart; but truly have I never
looked upon thy face before.”
The woman sank back to a sitting posture on the floor, and,
covering her eyes with her hands, gave way to heart-broken sobs
and wailings.
“Let the show go on!” shouted Canty. “What, Nan!–what, Bet!
mannerless wenches! will ye stand in the Prince’s presence? Upon
your knees, ye pauper scum, and do him reverence!”
He followed this with another horse-laugh. The girls began to
plead timidly for their brother; and Nan said–
“An thou wilt but let him to bed, father, rest and sleep will heal
his madness: prithee, do.”
“Do, father,” said Bet; “he is more worn than is his wont. To-
morrow will he be himself again, and will beg with diligence, and
come not empty home again.”
This remark sobered the father’s joviality, and brought his mind
to business. He turned angrily upon the Prince, and said–
“The morrow must we pay two pennies to him that owns this hole;
two pennies, mark ye–all this money for a half-year’s rent, else
out of this we go. Show what thou’st gathered with thy lazy
begging.”
The Prince said–
“Offend me not with thy sordid matters. I tell thee again I am
the King’s son.”
A sounding blow upon the Prince’s shoulder from Canty’s broad palm
sent him staggering into goodwife Canty’s arms, who clasped him to
her breast, and sheltered him from a pelting rain of cuffs and
slaps by interposing her own person. The frightened girls
retreated to their corner; but the grandmother stepped eagerly
forward to assist her son. The Prince sprang away from Mrs.
Canty, exclaiming–
“Thou shalt not suffer for me, madam. Let these swine do their
will upon me alone.”
This speech infuriated the swine to such a degree that they set
about their work without waste of time. Between them they
belaboured the boy right soundly, and then gave the girls and
their mother a beating for showing sympathy for the victim.
“Now,” said Canty, “to bed, all of ye. The entertainment has
tired me.”
The light was put out, and the family retired. As soon as the