A fierce look came into the little prince’s eyes, and he cried
out–
“What! Beatings?”
“Oh, indeed, yes, please you, sir.”
“BEATINGS!–and thou so frail and little. Hark ye: before the
night come, she shall hie her to the Tower. The King my father”–
“In sooth, you forget, sir, her low degree. The Tower is for the
great alone.”
“True, indeed. I had not thought of that. I will consider of her
punishment. Is thy father kind to thee?”
“Not more than Gammer Canty, sir.”
“Fathers be alike, mayhap. Mine hath not a doll’s temper. He
smiteth with a heavy hand, yet spareth 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 pain of 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 Lady Jane
Grey, my cousin, is of mine own age, and comely and gracious
withal; but my sister the Lady Mary, with her gloomy mien and–
Look you: do thy sisters forbid their servants to smile, lest the
sin destroy their souls?”
“They? Oh, dost think, sir, that THEY have servants?”
The little prince contemplated the little pauper gravely a moment,
then said–
“And prithee, why not? Who helpeth them undress 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