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    The Prince and the Pauper
    The Prince and the Pauper
    The Prince and the Pauper
    Ebook303 pages5 hours

    The Prince and the Pauper

    By Mark Twain

    3.5/5

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    About this ebook

    Two young men—one a child of the London slums, the other an heir to the throne—switch identities in this timeless novel about class and culture in sixteenth century England.

    Prince Edward inadvertently switches places with Tom Canty, a pauper. While both boys are interested in experiencing life in the other's shoes, they are dismayed by the realities of their new lives.

    Written before The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn was finished, this tale contains the elements of social criticism that were later to dominate Twain's writings.

    Enriched Classics enhance your engagement by introducing and explaining the historical and cultural significance of the work, the author’s personal history, and what impact this book had on subsequent scholarship. Each book includes discussion questions that help clarify and reinforce major themes and reading recommendations for further research.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSimon & Schuster
    Release dateNov 1, 2007
    ISBN9781416592174
    Author

    Mark Twain

    Mark Twain (1835-1910), fæddur Samuel Langhorne Clemens, var bandarískur rithöfundur, húmoristi og fyrirlesari þekktur fyrir gáfur sínar og lifandi lýsingu á bandarísku lífi á 19. öld. Hann er almennt talinn einn merkasti bandaríski rithöfundurinn. Verk Twain kanna oft þemu um kynþátt, samfélag og siðferði. Meðal frægustu skáldsagna hans eru Ævintýri Tom Sawyer og Ævintýri Huckleberry Finns, sem þykja meistaraverk bandarískra bókmennta.

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    Reviews for The Prince and the Pauper

    3.5/5

    1,241 ratings17 reviews

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    • 2/5
      SO different from the Disney version its amusing. But it was an interesting read. I wonder whose perspective of history is more accurate, Twains because he was closer in time, or ours because we have more research and available information...
    • 3/5
      Although the kids had a hard time following the story (just like with Shakespeare, must be the Old English) this was a really good book. We just paused periodically to make sure that everyone was up to speed. This was not at all what I expected from Mark Twain although it did bear his hallmark humor. It was like a Tom and Huck scheme gone wrong with thees and thous. It was a much more in depth story than what you might suppose if all you had been exposed to is the animated versions. I was pleased and entertained.
    • 5/5
      I could have sword I had read this years ago, but it felt fresh to me when I read it on DailyLit this time. Twain is such a genius! I loved this little story with so much depth and humor. I was also surprised to see how much historical research went into it. This is recommended to everyone.
    • 4/5
      You can't get what you want unless you see it through someone else's eyes first.
    • 4/5
      Most people are familiar with the basic situation of this classic story, but there is much more to Twain's original version than to its many adaptations. Of course, the crucial fact of these two boys being born in such different circumstances at the same time and identical in appearance and meeting as they do is pretty fabulous, but then, it is intended as a fable. At root, this is a story about the arbitrariness of hereditary nobility in general and monarchy in particular, and in true Twain fashion there are many biting and hilarious scenes. However, Twain fails to be true to his own theme in his resolution, which basically amounts to "...and despite what you would expect from everything that's happened so far, they all lived happily ever after." It would have been much more powerful and memorable had they failed to prove their true identities and the pauper had remained king, and the king a pauper...but I suppose a lot of readers wouldn't have liked that ending (which would have been the point!). But in any case, Twain's story is well worth reading just as it is.
    • 5/5
      This classic story of mixed identity between the boy King Edward VI and pauper Tom Canty is a heartwarming and easy read. Mark Twain's first historical novel, it follows the tradition of of 19th century historical novels in telling as much about the assumptions of the time it was written (1881) as about the time it is set (1547), e.g. in terms of Royal mercy and concern for the poor. The language is a joy to read and this Kindle edition contains all the many illustrations.
    • 3/5
      The Prince and the Pauper reminded me very much of Adventures of Tom Sawyer or Huck Finn. There were last second rescue, unbelievable circumstance, local dialects (or an estimation of them at least) abusive fathers, faithful companions...the list goes on. Unfortunately, I don't think Twain did as good a job tapping into old England as he did to the Mississippi river area.
    • 3/5
      In this book, Prince Edward and a beggar, Tom Canty, switch places accidentally. They have many different adventures based on what kind of people they were with. It's in England, during the reign of King Henry VIII. Most of the characters were fictionally made. Overall, it was an okay book; but unless you don't enjoy the medieval way the characters talk, then i suggest you don't read this book.
    • 1/5
      I did not like this book because it was very hard to understand (at least the version i read). I think that Mark Twain over did the old english a little bit.
    • 2/5
      I think I just did not like the style, or maybe it is because I knew the concept of the story, but I had a very hard time pay attention to this one even though I liked the narrator's voice and he did an great job narrating. I tried reading it when I was younger, and could not get into it then, either.
    • 4/5
      Only Mark Twain could have turned this hackneyed old concept into a very readable, enjoyable novel. This Reader’s Digest edition had factual historical notes and a good afterword at the end of the book. First class.
    • 4/5
      I remember enjoying this book as a child (although I can't remember what age) and since my son is interested in Mark Twain, we listened to the audiobook on a recent road trip. It was a little bit more complicated than I remembered, and frankly we both had trouble following parts of the story, but perhaps that is a challenge of audiobooks compared with print. The basic story is well-known in which the poor and abused Tom Canty meets Prince Edward and discovering they resemble one another, swap clothing. Through a comedy of errors, they are separated and end up with Tom unwillingly becoming king and the prince having to live life at the very bottom of society. All works out in the end, and Twain is probably too kind on Edward VI's actual legacy as king, but the book delves into some of the gritty realities of impoverished masses and the court intrigues of the elites.
    • 3/5
      The basic story line offered so much potential for compelling social commentary. However, Twain's effort really accomplished little more than a mildly entertaining novel. While an enjoyable read, particularly for its description of 16th century English society, I was disappointed at the lack of sophistication.
    • 5/5
      I found this an exquisitely funny book and it has lived in my memory ever since I read it in 8th grade.
    • 4/5
      I loved the details in this book a lot. I could really see the dirty details of London in that era, from the description.
    • 5/5
      Possibly my favorite Twain novel. So many people know the basics of this story that I think few of them ever read the original anymore. The politics and social commentary in this book are some of the best Twain produced. His subtle condemnation of the way society separated the haves and have nots during his day (and still does, if truth be told) is spot on and utterly compelling, all without compromising story or character.
    • 4/5
      this book was really interesting but in some parts of it this book was confusing because you didn't know who was who. The prince and the pauper had many lessons in it that i think where interesting. I liked that the prince got to experience how life was for many people. He realized that his life was pretty great compaired to other people's. I think that elementry or middle school students would like this book better than adults and teens.

    Book preview

    The Prince and the Pauper - Mark Twain

    1

    THE BIRTH OF THE PRINCE AND THE PAUPER

    IN THE ANCIENT city of London, on a certain autumn day in the second quarter of the sixteenth century, a boy was born to a poor family of the name of Canty, who did not want him. On the same day another English child was born to a rich family of the name of Tudor, who did want him. All England wanted him too. England had so longed for him, and hoped for him, and prayed God for him that now that he was really come, the people went nearly mad for joy. Mere acquaintances hugged and kissed each other and cried. Everybody took a holiday, and high and low, rich and poor, feasted and danced and sang, and got very mellow; and they kept this up for days and nights together. By day London was a sight to see, with gay banners waving from every balcony and housetop and splendid pageants marching along. By night it was again a sight to see, with its great bonfires at every corner and its troops of revelers making merry around them. There was no talk in all of England but of the new baby, Edward Tudor, Prince of Wales, who lay lapped in silks and satins, unconscious of all this fuss, and not knowing that great lords and ladies were tending him and watching over him—and not caring either. But there was no talk about the other baby, Tom Canty, lapped in his poor rags, except among the family of paupers whom he had just come to trouble with his presence.

    2

    TOM’S EARLY LIFE

    LET US SKIP a number of years.

    London was fifteen hundred years old, and was a great town—for that day. It had a hundred thousand inhabitants—some think double as many. The streets were very narrow, and crooked, and dirty, especially in that part where Tom Canty lived, which was not far from London Bridge. The houses were of wood, with the second story projecting over the first, and the third sticking its elbows out beyond the second. The higher the houses grew, the broader they grew. They were skeletons of strong criss-cross beams, with solid material between coated with plaster. The beams were painted red or blue or black, according to the owner’s taste, and this gave the houses a very picturesque look. The windows were small, glazed with little diamond-shaped panes, and they opened outward on hinges like doors.

    The house which Tom’s father lived in was up a foul little pocket called Offal Court, out of Pudding Lane. It was small, decayed, and rickety, but it was packed full of wretchedly poor families. Canty’s tribe occupied a room on the third floor. The mother and father had a sort of bedstead in the corner; but Tom, his grandmother, and his two sisters, Bet and Nan, were not restricted—they had all the floor to themselves and might sleep where they chose. There were the remains of a blanket or two and some bundles of ancient and dirty straw, but these could not rightly be called beds, for they were not organized; they were kicked into a general pile mornings, and selections made from the mass at night for service.

    Bet and Nan were fifteen years old—twins. They were goodhearted girls, unclean, clothed in rags, and profoundly ignorant. Their mother was like them. But the father and the grandmother were a couple of fiends. They got drunk whenever they could; then they fought each other or anybody else who came in the way; they cursed and swore always, drunk or sober; John Canty was a thief, and his mother a beggar. They made beggars of the children but failed to make thieves of them. Among, but not of, the dreadful rabble that inhabited the house was a good old priest whom the king had turned out of house and home with a pension of a few farthings, and he used to get the children aside and teach them right ways secretly. Father Andrew also taught Tom a little Latin and how to read and write, and would have done the same with the girls, but they were afraid of the jeers of their friends, who could not have endured such a queer accomplishment in them.

    All Offal Court was just such another hive as Canty’s house. Drunkenness, riot, and brawling were the order there every night and nearly all night long. Broken heads were as common as hunger in that place. Yet little Tom was not unhappy. He had a hard time of it, but did not know it. It was the sort of time that all of the Offal Court boys had; therefore he supposed it was the correct and comfortable thing. When he came home empty-handed at night, he knew his father would curse him and thrash him first, and that when he was done the awful grandmother would do it all over again and improve on it, and that away in the night his starving mother would slip to him stealthily with any miserable scrap or crust she had been able to save for him by going hungry herself, notwithstanding she was often caught in that sort of treason and soundly beaten for it by her husband.

    No, Tom’s life went along well enough, especially in summer. He only begged just enough to save himself, for the laws against mendicancy were stringent and the penalties heavy; so he put in a good deal of his time listening to good Father Andrew’s charming old tales and legends about giants and fairies, dwarfs and genii, and enchanted castles, and gorgeous kings and princes. His head grew to be full of these wonderful things, and many a night as he lay in the dark on his scant and offensive straw, tired, hungry, and smarting from a thrashing, he unleashed his imagination and soon forgot his aches and pains in delicious picturings to himself of the charmed life of a petted prince in a regal palace. One desire came in time to haunt him day and night: it was to see a real prince, with his own eyes. He spoke of it once to some of his Offal Court comrades, but they jeered him and scoffed him so unmercifully that he was glad to keep his dream to himself after that.

    He often read the priest’s old books and got him to explain and enlarge upon them. His dreamings and readings worked certain changes in him by and by. His dream people were so fine that he grew to lament his shabby clothing and his dirt and to wish to be clean and better clad. He went on playing in the mud just the same, and enjoying it too; but instead of splashing around in the Thames solely for the fun of it, he began to find an added value in it because of the washings and cleansings it afforded.

    Tom could always find something going on around the Maypole in Cheapside and at the fairs; and now and then he and the rest of London had a chance to see a military parade when some famous unfortunate was carried prisoner to the Tower by land or boat. One summer’s day he saw poor Anne Askew and three men burned at the stake in Smithfield and heard an ex-bishop preach a sermon to them which did not interest him. Yes, Tom’s life was varied and pleasant enough on the whole.

    By and by Tom’s reading and dreaming about princely life wrought such a strong effect upon him that he began to act the prince, unconsciously. His speech and manners became curiously ceremonious and courtly, to the vast admiration and amusement of his intimates. But Tom’s influence among these young people began to grow now day by day, and in time he came to be looked up to by them, with a sort of wondering awe, as a superior being. He seemed to know so much! And he could do and say such marvelous things! And withal, he was so deep and wise! Tom’s remarks and Tom’s performances were reported by the boys to their elders; and these also presently began to discuss Tom Canty and to regard him as a most gifted and extraordinary creature. Full-grown people brought their perplexities to Tom for solution and were often astonished at the wit and wisdom of his decisions. In fact he was become a hero to all who knew him except his own family—these only saw nothing in him.

    Privately, after a while, Tom organized a royal court! He was the prince; his special comrades were guards, chamberlains, equerries, lords- and ladies-in-waiting, and the royal family. Daily the mock prince was received with elaborate ceremonials borrowed by Tom from his romantic readings; daily the great affairs of the mimic kingdom were discussed in the royal council; and daily his mimic highness issued decrees to his imaginary armies, navies, and vice-royalties.

    After which, he would go forth in his rags and beg a few farthings, eat his poor crust, take his customary cuffs and abuse, and then stretch himself upon his handful of foul straw and resume his empty grandeurs in his dreams.

    And still his desire to look just once upon a real prince in the flesh grew upon him, day by day, and week by week, until at last it absorbed all other desires and became the one passion of his life.

    One January day, on his usual begging tour, he tramped despondently up and down the region round about Mincing Lane and Little East Cheap, hour after hour, barefooted and cold, looking in at cookshop windows and longing for the dreadful pork pies and other deadly inventions displayed there; for to him these were dainties fit for the angels; that is, judging by the smell they were, for it had never been his good luck to own and eat one. There was a cold drizzle of rain; the atmosphere was murky; it was a melancholy day. At night Tom reached home so wet and tired and hungry that it was not possible for his father and grandmother to observe his forlorn condition and not be moved—after their fashion; wherefore they gave him a brisk cuffing at once and sent him to bed. For a long time his pain and hunger and the swearing and fighting going on in the building kept him awake; but at last his thoughts drifted away to far, romantic lands, and he fell asleep in the company of jeweled and gilded princelings who lived in vast palaces and had servants salaaming before them or flying to execute their orders. And then as usual, he dreamed that he was a princeling himself.

    All night long the glories of his royal estate shone upon him: he moved among great lords and ladies in a blaze of light, breathing perfumes, drinking in delicious music, and answering the reverent obeisances of the glittering throng as it parted to make way for him, with here a smile and there a nod of his princely head.

    And when he awoke in the morning and looked upon the wretchedness about him, his dream had had its usual effect: it had intensified the sordidness of his surroundings a thousandfold. Then came bitterness, and heartbreak, and tears.

    3

    TOM’S MEETING WITH THE PRINCE

    TOM GOT UP hungry, and sauntered hungry away, but with his thoughts busy with the shadowy splendors of his night’s dreams. He wandered here and there in the city, hardly noticing where he was going or what was happening around him. People jostled him, and some gave him rough speech; but it was all lost on the musing boy. By and by he found himself at Temple Bar, the farthest from home he had ever traveled in that direction. He stopped and considered a moment, then fell into his imaginings again, and passed on outside the walls of London. The Strand had ceased to be a country road then and regarded itself as a street, but by a strained construction; for though there was a tolerably compact row of houses on one side of it, there were only some scattering great buildings on the other, these being palaces of rich nobles, with ample and beautiful grounds stretching to the river—grounds that are now closely packed with grim acres of brick and stone.

    Tom discovered Charing Village presently and rested himself at the beautiful cross built there by a bereaved king of earlier days; then idled down a quiet, lovely road past the great cardinal’s stately palace, toward a far more mighty and majestic palace beyond—Westminster. Tom stared in glad wonder at the vast pile of masonry, the wide-spreading wings, the frowning bastions and turrets, the huge stone gateway, with its gilded bars and its magnificent array of colossal granite lions, and the other signs and symbols of English royalty. Was the desire of his soul to be satisfied at last? Here indeed was a king’s palace. Might he not hope to see a prince now, a prince of flesh and blood, if heaven were willing?

    At each side of the gilded gate stood a living statue, that is to say, an erect and stately and motionless man-at-arms clad from head to heel in shining steel armor. At a respectful distance were many country folk and people from the city waiting for any chance glimpse of royalty that might offer. Splendid carriages with splendid people in them and splendid servants outside were arriving and departing by several other noble gateways that pierced the royal enclosure.

    Poor little Tom, in his rags, approached and was moving slow and timidly past the sentinels, with a beating heart and a rising hope, when all at once he caught sight through the golden bars of a spectacle that almost made him shout for joy. Within was a comely boy, tanned and brown with sturdy outdoor sports and exercises, whose clothing was all of lovely silks and satins, shining with jewels—at his hip a little jeweled sword and dagger, dainty buskins on his feet, with red heels, and on his head a jaunty crimson cap with drooping plumes fastened with a great sparkling gem. Several gorgeous gentlemen stood near—his servants, without a doubt. Oh! He was a prince—a prince, a living prince, a real prince—without the shadow of a question; and the prayer of the pauper-boys heart was answered at last.

    Tom’s breath came quick and short with excitement, and his eyes grew big with wonder and delight. Everything gave way in his mind instantly to one desire: that was to get close to the prince and have a good, devouring look at him. Before he knew what he was about, he had his face against the gate bars. The next instant one of the soldiers snatched him rudely away and sent him spinning among the gaping crowd of country gawks and London idlers.

    The soldier said, Mind thy manners, thou young beggar!

    The crowd jeered and laughed, but the young prince sprang to the gate with his face flushed and his eyes flashing with indignation and cried out, How darst thou use a poor lad like that! How darst thou use the king my fathers meanest subject so! Open the gates and let him in!

    You should have seen that fickle crowd snatch off their hats then. You should have heard them cheer and shout, Long live the Prince of Wales!

    The soldiers presented arms with their halberds, opened the gates, and presented again as the little Prince of Poverty passed in, in his fluttering rags, to join hands with the Prince of Limidess Plenty.

    Edward Tudor said, Thou lookest tired and hungry: thou’st been treated ill. Come with me.

    Half a dozen attendants sprang forward to—I don’t know what; interfere, no doubt. But they were waved aside with a right royal gesture, and they stopped stock-still where they were, like so many statues. Edward took Tom to a rich apartment in the palace, which he called his cabinet. By his command a repast was brought such as Tom had never encountered before except in books. The prince, with princely delicacy and breeding, sent away the servants so that his humble guest might not be embarrassed by their critical presence; then he sat nearby and asked questions while Tom ate.

    What is thy name, lad?

    Tom Canty, an’ it please thee, sir.

    ’Tis an odd one. Where dost live?

    In the city, please thee, sir. Offal Court, out of Pudding Lane.

    Offal Court! Truly ’tis another odd one. Hast parents?

    Parents have I, sir, and a grandam likewise that is but indifferently precious to me—God forgive me if it be offense to say it—also twin sisters, Nan and Bet.

    Then is thy grandam not over kind to thee, I take it.

    Neither to any other is she, so please your Worship. She hath a wicked heart and worketh evil all her days.

    Doth she mistreat thee?

    There be times that she stayeth her hand, being asleep or overcome with drink; but when she hath her judgment clear again, she maketh it up to me with goodly beatings.

    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. Wouldst have them take off their garment and sleep without—like 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 marvelous 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.

    Knowst 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 shouldst 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 I would like also. Speak on.

    In summer, sir, we wade and swim in the canals and in the river, and each doth duck his neighbor, and spatter 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 neighbor 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 forgo the crown!

    And if that I could clothe me once, sweet sir, as thou art clad, just once—

    Oho, wouldst like it? Then so shall it be. Doff thy rags and don these splendors, lad! It is a brief happiness, but will be not less keen for that. We will have it while we may, and change again before any come to molest.

    A few minutes later the little Prince of Wales was garlanded with Tom’s fluttering odds and ends, and the little Prince of Pauperdom was tricked out in the gaudy plumage of royalty. The two went and stood side by side before a great mirror, and lo, a miracle: there did not seem to have been any change made! They stared at each other, then at the glass, then at each other again. At last the puzzled princeling said, What dost thou make of this?

    "Ah, good your worship, require me not to answer. It is not meet that one of my degree should utter the

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