English
WhenPrinceDolorsatupinbed,tryingtorememberwherehewas,whitherhehadbeen,andwhathehadseenthedaybefore,heperceivedthathisroomwasempty.
Generallyhisnurseratherworriedhimbybreakinghisslumbers,cominginand“settingthingstorights,”asshecalledit.
Nowthedustlaythickuponchairsandtables;therewasnoharshvoiceheardtoscoldhimfornotgettingupimmediately,which,Iamsorrytosay,thisboydidnotalwaysdo.
Forhesoenjoyedlyingstill,andthinkinglazilyabouteverythingornothing,that,ifhehadnottriedhardagainstit,hewouldcertainlyhavebecomelikethosecelebrated
“Twolittlemen
Wholayintheirbedtilltheclockstruckten.”
Itwasstrikingtennow,andstillnonursewastobeseen.
Hewasratherrelievedatfirst,forhefeltsotired;andbesides,whenhestretchedouthisarm,hefoundtohisdismaythathehadgonetobedinhisclothes.
Veryuncomfortablehefelt,ofcourse;andjustalittlefrightened.
Especiallywhenhebegantocallandcallagain,butnobodyanswered.
Oftenheusedtothinkhowniceitwouldbetogetridofhisnurseandliveinthistowerallbyhimself—likeasortofmonarchabletodoeverythingheliked,andleaveundoneallthathedidnotwanttodo;butnowthatthisseemedreallytohavehappened,hedidnotlikeitatall.
“Nurse,—dearnurse,—pleasecomeback!”hecalledout.“Comeback,andIwillbethebestboyinalltheland.”
Andwhenshedidnotcomeback,andnothingbutsilenceansweredhislamentablecall,heverynearlybegantocry.
“Thiswon’tdo,”hesaidatlast,dashingthetearsfromhiseyes.“It’sjustlikeababy,andI’mabigboy—shallbeamansomeday.Whathashappened,Iwonder?I’llgoandsee.”
Hesprangoutofbed,—nottohisfeet,alas!
buttohispoorlittleweakknees,andcrawledonthemfromroomtoroom.
Allthefourchambersweredeserted—notforlornoruntidy,foreverythingseemedtohavebeendoneforhiscomfort—thebreakfastanddinnerthingswerelaid,thefoodspreadinorder.
Hemightlive“likeaprince,”astheproverbis,forseveraldays.
Buttheplacewasentirelyforsaken—therewasevidentlynotacreaturebuthimselfinthesolitarytower.
Agreatfearcameuponthepoorboy.Lonelyashislifehadbeen,hehadneverknownwhatitwastobeabsolutelyalone.
Akindofdespairseizedhim—noviolentangerorterror,butasortofpatientdesolation.
“WhatintheworldamItodo?”thoughthe,andsatdowninthemiddleofthefloor,halfinclinedtobelievethatitwouldbebettertogiveupentirely,layhimselfdown,anddie.
Thisfeeling,however,didnotlastlong,forhewasyoungandstrong,and,Isaidbefore,bynatureaverycourageousboy.
Therecameintohishead,somehoworother,aproverbthathisnursehadtaughthim—thepeopleofNomanslandwereveryfondofproverbs:
“Foreveryevilunderthesun
Thereisaremedy,orthere’snone;
Ifthereisone,trytofindit—
Ifthereisn’t,nevermindit.”
“Iwonderistherearemedynow,andcouldIfindit?”criedthePrince,jumpingupandlookingoutofthewindow.
Nohelpthere.Heonlysawthebroad,bleak,sunshinyplain—thatis,atfirst.
Butbyandby,inthecircleofmudthatsurroundedthebaseofthetower,heperceiveddistinctlythemarksofahorse’sfeet,andjustinthespotwherethedeaf-mutewasaccustomedtotieuphisgreatblackcharger,whilehehimselfascended,therelaytheremainsofabundleofhayandafeedofcorn.
“Yes,that’sit.Hehascomeandgone,takingnurseawaywithhim.Poornurse!howgladshewouldbetogo!”
ThatwasPrinceDolor’sfirstthought.Hissecond—wasn’titnatural?
—wasapassionateindignationathercruelty—atthecrueltyofalltheworldtowardhim,apoorlittlehelplessboy.
Thenhedetermined,forsakenashewas,totryandholdontothelast,andnottodieaslongashecouldpossiblyhelpit.
Anyhow,itwouldbeeasiertodieherethanoutintheworld,amongtheterribledoingswhichhehadjustbeheld—fromthemidstofwhich,itsuddenlystruckhim,thedeaf-mutehadcome,contrivingsomehowtomakethenurseunderstandthatthekingwasdead,andsheneedhavenofearingoingbacktothecapital,wheretherewasagrandrevolution,andeverythingturnedupsidedown.So,ofcourse,shehadgone.
“Ihopeshe’llenjoyit,miserablewoman—iftheydon’tcutoffherheadtoo.”
Andthenakindofremorsesmotehimforfeelingsobitterlytowardher,afteralltheyearsshehadtakencareofhim—grudgingly,perhaps,andcoldly;stillshehadtakencareofhim,andthateventothelast:for,asIhavesaid,allhisfourroomswereastidyaspossible,andhismealslaidout,thathemighthavenomoretroublethancouldbehelped.
“Possiblyshedidnotmeantobecruel.Iwon’tjudgeher,”saidhe.Andafterwardhewasverygladthathehadsodetermined.
Forthesecondtimehetriedtodresshimself,andthentodoeverythinghecouldforhimself—eventosweepingupthehearthandputtingonmorecoals.
“It’safunnythingforaprincetohavetodo,”saidhe,laughing.
“Butmygodmotheroncesaidprincesneedneverminddoinganything.”
Andthenhethoughtalittleofhisgodmother.
Notofsummoningher,oraskinghertohelphim,—shehadevidentlylefthimtohelphimself,andhewasdeterminedtotryhisbesttodoit,beingaveryproudandindependentboy,—butherememberedhertenderlyandregret-fully,asifevenshehadbeenalittleharduponhim—poor,forlornboythathewas.
Butheseemedtohaveseenandlearnedsomuchwithinthelastfewdaysthathescarcelyfeltlikeaboy,butaman—untilhewenttobedatnight.
WhenIwasachild,Iusedoftentothinkhowniceitwouldbetoliveinalittlehouseallbymyownself—ahousebuilthighupinatree,orfarawayinaforest,orhalfwayupahillsidesodeliciouslyaloneandindependent.Notalessontolearn—butno!Ialwayslikedlearningmylessons.
Anyhow,tochoosethelessonsIlikedbest,tohaveasmanybookstoreadanddollstoplaywithaseverIwanted:aboveall,tobefreeandatrest,withnobodytoteaseortroubleorscoldme,wouldbecharming.
ForIwasalonelylittlething,wholikedquietness—asmanychildrendo;whichotherchildren,andsometimesgrown-uppeopleeven,cannotunderstand.AndsoIcanunderstandPrinceDolor.
Afterhisfirstdespair,hewasnotmerelycomfortable,butactuallyhappyinhissolitude,doingeverythingforhimself,andenjoyingeverythingbyhimself—untilbedtime.Thenhedidnotlikeitatall.
Nomore,Isuppose,thanotherchildrenwouldhavelikedmyimaginaryhouseinatreewhentheyhadhadsufficientoftheirowncompany.
ButthePrincehadtobearit—andhedidbearit,likeaprince—forfullyfivedays.
Allthattimehegotupinthemorningandwenttobedatnightwithouthavingspokentoacreature,or,indeed,heardasinglesound.
Forevenhislittlelarkwassilent;andasforhistraveling-cloak,eitherheneverthoughtaboutit,orelseithadbeenspiritedaway—forhemadenouseofit,norattemptedtodoso.
Averystrangeexistenceitwas,thosefivelonelydays.Heneverentirelyforgotit.
Itthrewhimbackuponhimself,andintohimself—inawaythatallofushavetolearnwhenwegrowup,andarethebetterforit;butitissomewhathardlearning.
OnthesixthdayPrinceDolorhadastrangecomposureinhislook,buthewasverygraveandthinandwhite.
Hehadnearlycometotheendofhisprovisions—andwhatwastohappennext?
Getoutofthetowerhecouldnot:theladderthedeaf-muteusedwasalwayscarriedawayagain;andifithadnotbeen,howcouldthepoorboyhaveusedit?
Andevenifheslungorflunghimselfdown,andbymiraculouschancecamealivetothefootofthetower,howcouldherunaway?
Fatehadbeenveryhardtohim,orsoitseemed.
Hemadeuphismindtodie.Notthathewishedtodie;onthecontrary,therewasagreatdealthathewishedtolivetodo;butifhemustdie,hemust.
Dyingdidnotseemsoverydreadful;noteventoliequietlikehisuncle,whomhehadentirelyforgivennow,andneitherbemiserablenornaughtyanymore,andescapeallthosehorriblethingsthathehadseengoingonoutsidethepalace,inthatawfulplacewhichwascalled“theworld.”
“It’sagreatdealnicerhere,”saidthepoorlittlePrince,andcollectedallhisprettythingsroundhim:hisfavoritepictures,whichhethoughtheshouldliketohavenearhimwhenhedied;hisbooksandtoys—no,hehadceasedtocarefortoysnow;heonlylikedthembecausehehaddonesoasachild.
Andtherehesatverycalmandpatient,likeakinginhiscastle,waitingfortheend.
“Still,IwishIhaddonesomethingfirst—somethingworthdoing,thatsomebodymightremembermeby,”thoughthe.
“SupposeIhadgrownaman,andhadhadworktodo,andpeopletocarefor,andwassousefulandbusythattheylikedme,andperhapsevenforgotIwaslame?
Thenitwouldhavebeennicetolive,Ithink.”
Atearcameintothelittlefellow’seyes,andhelistenedintentlythroughthedeadsilenceforsomehopefulsound.
Wasthereone?—wasithislittlelark,whomhehadalmostforgotten?No,nothinghalfsosweet.
Butitreallywassomething—somethingwhichcamenearerandnearer,sothattherewasnomistakingit.
Itwasthesoundofatrumpet,oneofthegreatsilvertrumpetssoadmiredinNomansland.
Notpleasantmusic,butverybold,grand,andinspiring.
Ashelistenedtoittheboyseemedtorecallmanythingswhichhadslippedhismemoryforyears,andtonervehimselfforwhatevermightbegoingtohappen.
Whathadhappenedwasthis.
Thepoorcondemnedwomanhadnotbeensuchawickedwomanafterall.
Perhapshercouragewasnotwhollydisinterested,butshehaddoneaveryheroicthing.
AssoonassheheardofthedeathandburialoftheKingandofthechangesthatweretakingplaceinthecountry,adaringideacameintoherhead—tosetuponthethroneofNomanslanditsrightfulheir.
Thereuponshepersuadedthedeaf-mutetotakeherawaywithhim,andtheygallopedlikethewindfromcitytocity,spreadingeverywherethenewsthatPrinceDolor’sdeathandburialhadbeenaninventionconcoctedbyhiswickedunclethathewasaliveandwell,andthenoblestyoungprincethateverwasborn.
Itwasaboldstroke,butitsucceeded.Thecountry,wearyperhapsofthelateKing’sharshrule,andyetgladtosaveitselffromthehorrorsofthelastfewdays,andthestillfurtherhorrorsofnoruleatall,andhavingnoparticularinterestintheotheryoungprinces,jumpedattheideaofthisPrince,whowasthesonoftheirlategoodKingandthebelovedQueenDolorez.
“HurrahforPrinceDolor!LetPrinceDolorbeoursovereign!”rangfromendtoendofthekingdom.
Everybodytriedtorememberwhatadearbabyheoncewas—howlikehismother,whohadbeensosweetandkind,andhisfather,thefinest-lookingkingthateverreigned.
Nobodyrememberedhislameness—or,iftheydid,theypasseditoverasamatterofnoconsequence.
Theyweredeterminedtohavehimreignoverthem,boyashewas—perhapsjustbecausehewasaboy,sinceinthatcasethegreatnoblesthoughttheyshouldbeabletodoastheylikedwiththecountry.
Accordingly,withaficklenessnotconfinedtothepeopleofNomansland,nosoonerwasthelateKinglaidinhisgravethantheypronouncedhimtohavebeenausurper;turnedallhisfamilyoutofthepalace,andleftitemptyforthereceptionofthenewsovereign,whomtheywenttofetchwithgreatrejoicing,aselectbodyoflords,gentlemen,andsoldierstravelingnightanddayinsolemnprocessionthroughthecountryuntiltheyreachedHopelessTower.
TheretheyfoundthePrince,sittingcalmlyonthefloor—deadlypale,indeed,forheexpectedaquitedifferentendfromthis,andwasresolved,ifhehadtodie,todiecourageously,likeaPrinceandaKing.
ButwhentheyhailedhimasPrinceandKing,andexplainedtohimhowmattersstood,andwentdownontheirkneesbeforehim,offeringthecrown(onavelvetcushion,withfourgoldentassels,eachnearlyasbigashishead),—smallthoughhewasandlame,whichlamenessthecourtierspretendednottonotice,—therecamesuchaglowintohisface,suchadignityintohisdemeanor,thathebecamebeautiful,king-like.
“Yes,”hesaid,“ifyoudesireit,Iwillbeyourking.AndIwilldomybesttomakemypeoplehappy.”
Thentherearose,frominsideandoutsidethetower,suchashoutasneveryetwasheardacrossthelonelyplain.
PrinceDolorshrankalittlefromthedeafeningsound.“HowshallIbeabletoruleallthisgreatpeople?Youforget,mylords,thatIamonlyalittleboystill.”
“Notsoverylittle,”wastherespectfulanswer.“Wehavesearchedintherecords,andfoundthatyourRoyalHighness—yourMajesty,Imean—isfifteenyearsold.”
“AmI?”saidPrinceDolor;andhisfirstthoughtwasathoroughlychildishpleasurethatheshouldnowhaveabirthday,withawholenationtokeepit.
Thenherememberedthathischildishdaysweredone.Hewasamonarchnow.
Evenhisnurse,towhom,themomenthesawher,hehadheldouthishand,kisseditreverently,andcalledhimceremoniously“hisMajestytheKing.”
“Akingmustbealwaysaking,Isuppose,”saidhehalf-sadly,when,theceremoniesover,hehadbeenlefttohimselfforjusttenminutes,toputoffhisboy’sclothesandbereattiredinmagnificentrobes,beforehewasconveyedawayfromhistowertotheroyalpalace.
Hecouldtakenothingwithhim;indeed,hesoonsawthat,howeverpolitelytheyspoke,theywouldnotallowhimtotakeanything.
Ifhewastobetheirking,hemustgiveuphisoldlifeforever.
Sohelookedwithtenderfarewellonhisoldbooks,oldtoys,thefurnitureheknewsowell,andthefamiliarplaininallitslevelness—uglyyetpleasant,simplybecauseitwasfamiliar.
“Itwillbeanewlifeinanewworld,”saidhetohimself;“butI’llremembertheoldthingsstill.And,oh!ifbeforeIgoIcouldbutonceseemydearoldgodmother.”
Whilehespokehehadlaidhimselfdownonthebedforaminuteortwo,rathertiredwithhisgrandeur,andconfusedbythenoiseofthetrumpetswhichkeptplayingincessantlydownbelow.
Hegazed,halfsadly,uptotheskylight,whencetherecamepouringastreamofsunrays,withinnumerablemotesfloatingthere,likeabridgethrownbetweenheavenandearth.
Slidingdownit,asifshehadbeenmadeofair,camethelittleoldwomaningray.
Sobeautifullookedshe—oldasshewas—thatPrinceDolorwasatfirstquitestartledbytheapparition.Thenheheldouthisarmsineagerdelight.
“Oh,godmother,youhavenotforsakenme!”
“Notatall,myson.Youmaynothaveseenme,butIhaveseenyoumanyatime.”
“How?”
“Oh,nevermind.IcanturnintoanythingIplease,youknow.
AndIhavebeenabearskinrug,andacrystalgoblet—andsometimesIhavechangedfrominanimatetoanimatenature,putonfeathers,andmademyselfverycomfortableasabird.”
“Ha!”laughedtheprince,anewlightbreakinginuponhimashecaughttheinfectionofhertone,livelyandmischievous.“Ha!ha!alark,forinstance?”
“Oramagpie,”answeredshe,withacapitalimitationofMistressMag’scroakyvoice.
“DoyousupposeIamalwayssentimental,andneverfunny?
Ifanythingmakesyouhappy,gay,orgrave,don’tyouthinkitismorethanlikelytocomethroughyouroldgodmother?”
“Ibelievethat,”saidtheboytenderly,holdingouthisarms.Theyclaspedoneanotherinacloseembrace.
SuddenlyPrinceDolorlookedveryanxious.“YouwillnotleavemenowthatIamaking?OtherwiseIhadrathernotbeakingatall.Promisenevertoforsakeme!”
Thelittleoldwomanlaughedgayly.“Forsakeyou?thatisimpossible.
Butitisjustpossibleyoumayforsakeme.Notprobablethough.
Yourmotherneverdid,andshewasaqueen.
ThesweetestqueeninalltheworldwastheLadyDolorez.”
“Tellmeabouther,”saidtheboyeagerly.“AsIgetolderIthinkIcanunderstandmore.Dotellme.”
“Notnow.Youcouldn’thearmeforthetrumpetsandtheshouting.
Butwhenyouarecometothepalace,askforalong-closedupperroom,whichlooksoutupontheBeautifulMountains;openitandtakeitforyourown.
Wheneveryougothereyouwillalwaysfindme,andwewilltalktogetheraboutallsortsofthings.”
“Andaboutmymother?”
Thelittleoldwomannodded—andkeptnoddingandsmilingtoherselfmanytimes,astheboyrepeatedoverandoveragainthesweetwordshehadneverknownorunderstood—“mymother—mymother.”
“NowImustgo,”saidshe,asthetrumpetsblaredlouderandlouder,andtheshoutsofthepeopleshowedthattheywouldnotendureanydelay.“Good-by,good-by!OpenthewindowandoutIfly.”
PrinceDolorrepeatedgaylythemusicalrhyme—butallthewhiletriedtoholdhisgodmotherfast.
Vain,vain!forthemomentthataknockingwasheardathisdoorthesunwentbehindacloud,thebrightstreamofdancingmotesvanished,andthelittleoldwomanwiththem—heknewnotwhere.
SoPrinceDolorquittedhistower—whichhehadenteredsomournfullyandignominiouslyasalittlehelplessbabycarriedinthedeaf-mute’sarms—quitteditasthegreatKingofNomansland.
Theonlythinghetookawaywithhimwassomethingsoinsignificantthatnoneofthelords,gentlemen,andsoldierswhoescortedhimwithsuchtriumphantsplendorcouldpossiblynoticeit—atinybundle,whichhehadfoundlyingonthefloorjustwherethebridgeofsunbeamshadrested.
Atoncehehadpounceduponit,andthrustitsecretlyintohisbosom,whereitdwindledintosuchsmallproportionsthatitmighthavebeentakenforamerechest-comforter,abitofflannel,oranoldpocket-handkerchief.Itwashistraveling-cloak!
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