The Prince and the Pauper
Chapter V. Tom as a Patrician.
Tom Canty, left alone in the prince's cabinet, made good use
of his opportunity. He turned himself this way and that before the great
mirror, admiring his finery; then walked away, imitating the prince's high-bred
carriage, and still observing results in the glass. Next he drew the
beautiful sword, and bowed, kissing the blade, and laying it across his breast,
as he had seen a noble knight do, by way of salute to the lieutenant of the
Tower, five or six weeks before, when delivering the great lords of Norfolk and
Surrey into his hands for captivity. Tom played with the jewelled dagger
that hung upon his thigh; he examined the costly and exquisite ornaments of the
room; he tried each of the sumptuous chairs, and thought how proud he would be
if the Offal Court herd could only peep in and see him in his grandeur.
He wondered if they would believe the marvellous tale he should tell when he
got home, or if they would shake their heads, and say his overtaxed imagination
had at last upset his reason.
At the end of half an hour it suddenly occurred to him that
the prince was gone a long time; then right away he began to feel lonely; very
soon he fell to listening and longing, and ceased to toy with the pretty things
about him; he grew uneasy, then restless, then distressed. Suppose some one
should come, and catch him in the prince's clothes, and the prince not there to
explain. Might they not hang him at once, and inquire into his case
afterward? He had heard that the great were prompt about small
matters. His fear rose higher and higher; and trembling he softly opened
the door to the antechamber, resolved to fly and seek the prince, and, through
him, protection and release. Six gorgeous gentlemen-servants and two
young pages of high degree, clothed like butterflies, sprang to their feet and
bowed low before 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 here to cast away my life?"
He walked up and down the floor, filled with nameless fears,
listening, starting at every trifling sound. Presently the door swung
open, and a silken page said—
"The Lady Jane Grey."
