Принц і жебрак
Le Roi est mort — vive le Roi
Duringtheforenoon,Tomhadanenjoyablehour,bypermissionofhiskeepers,HertfordandSt.John,withtheLadyElizabethandthelittleLadyJaneGrey;thoughthespiritsoftheprincesseswererathersubduedbythemightystrokethathadfallenupontheroyalhouse;andattheendofthevisithis‘eldersister’—afterwardsthe‘BloodyMary’ofhistory—chilledhimwithasolemninterviewwhichhadbutonemeritinhiseyes,itsbrevity.Hehadafewmomentstohimself,andthenaslimladofabouttwelveyearsofagewasadmittedtohispresence,whoseclothing,excepthissnowyruffandthelacesabouthiswrists,wasofblack,—doublet,hose,andall.Heborenobadgeofmourningbutaknotofpurpleribbononhisshoulder.Headvancedhesitatingly,withheadbowedandbare,anddroppedupononekneeinfrontofTom.Tomsatstillandcontemplatedhimsoberlyamoment.Thenhesaid—
"Rise,lad.Whoartthou.Whatwouldsthave?"
Theboyrose,andstoodatgracefulease,butwithanaspectofconcerninhisface.Hesaid—
"Ofasuretythoumustrememberme,mylord.Iamthywhipping-boy."
"Mywhipping-boy?"
"Thesame,yourGrace.IamHumphrey—HumphreyMarlow."
Tomperceivedthatherewassomeonewhomhiskeepersoughttohavepostedhimabout.Thesituationwasdelicate.Whatshouldhedo?—pretendheknewthislad,andthenbetraybyhiseveryutterancethathehadneverheardofhimbefore?No,thatwouldnotdo.
