Принц и нищий / The Prince and the Pauper

The boys stopped their play and surrounded about the prince, who said with dignity—

“Good lads, say to your master that Edward Prince of Wales wants to speak with him.”

They all talked at once, and then one of them said—

“Are you his messenger, beggar?”

The prince’s face flushed with anger, and his hand flew to his hip, but there was nothing there. There was a storm of laughter, and one boy said—

“Did you see that? He thought he had a sword—like he is the prince himself.

”

This brought more laughter. Poor Edward proudly said—

“I am the prince.”

More laughter again. The boy who had first spoken, shouted to his friends—

“Well, where are your manners? Down on your knees, everyone!”

Laughing, they dropped upon their knees and did mock homage to him. The prince kicked the nearest boy with his foot, and said—

“Take that! Unless you want to hang tomorrow!”

And now this was going beyond fun. The laughter stopped, and fury took its place.

A dozen shouted—

“Grab him! To the horse-pond, to the horse-pond!”

And what happened than was a thing England had never seen before—the heir to the throne beaten by commoner hands, and torn by dogs.

As night fell, the prince found himself far down in the poor part of the city. His body was bruised, his hands were bleeding, and his rags were dirty with mud.

He walked on and on, and grew more and more bewildered, and so tired that he could hardly put one foot after the other.

He kept muttering to himself, “Offal Court—that is the name; if I can find, then I am saved—his people will take me to the palace and prove that I am the true prince.”

It started raining, the wind rose. The homeless heir to the throne of England still walked on deeper and deeper into the maze of small dirty streets.

Suddenly a big drunken ruffian took him by the collar and said—

“Out so late at night again, and if you have not brought anything home, and I do not break all the bones in your body, then am I not John Canty!”

The prince twisted himself out of the big hand, and said—

“Oh, are you his father? Then you will take him home and bring me back!”

“His father? I do not know what you mean; I am your father—”

“Oh, hurry up!—I am tired, I can bear no more.

Take me to the king my father, and he will make you rich as you have never dreamed.