前言
第1章 王子与贫儿的诞生
第2章 汤姆与王子的会面
第3章 王子开始遭难
第4章 汤姆当上王子
第5章 受困的王子
第6章 王子和他的救星
第7章 “老王驾崩——新王万岁！”
第8章 疯子一世
第9章 王子成了囚犯
第10章 汤姆的进步
第11章 国王爱德华
Preface
CHAPTER 1 The Birth of the Prince and the Pauper
CHAPTER 2 Tom’s Meeting with the Prince
CHAPTER 3 The Prince’s Troubles Begin
CHAPTER 4 Tom as a Prince
CHAPTER 5 The Trapped Prince
CHAPTER 6 The Prince and His Deliverer
CHAPTER 7 “The King Is Dead—Long Live the King!”
CHAPTER 8 Foo-foo the First
CHAPTER 9 Down by Law
CHAPTER 10 Tom’s Progress
CHAPTER 11 Edward as King
CHAPTER 1 The Birth of the Prince and the Pauper
In the ancient city of London， on a certain fall 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. Everybody took a holiday， and high and low， rich and poor， feasted and danced and sang; and they kept this up for days and nights together. By day， London was a sight to see， with bright banners waving from every balcony and house-top， and splendid parades. By night， it was again a sight to see， with its great bonfires at every corner， and its troops making merry around them. There was no talk in all England but of the new baby， Edward Tudor， Prince of Wales， who lay covered in silks and satins. But there was no talk about the other baby， Tom Canty， covered in his poor rags， except among the family of paupers whom he had just come to trouble with his presence. Let us skip a number of years. London was fifteen hundred years old， and was a great town—for that day. The streets were narrow， and crooked， and dirty， especially in the part where Tom Canty lived， which was not far from London Bridge. The houses were of wood， with the second story reaching out over the first， and the third sticking its elbows out beyond the second. The windows were small， 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， off Pudding Lane. It was small and rickety， but it was packed full of very poor families. Canty’s tribe occupied a room on the third floor. The mother and father had a sort of bed in the corner; but Tom， his grandmother， and his two sisters， Bet and Nan， 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 old straw， but these could not rightly be called beds; they were kicked into a general pile， mornings， and selections made from the mass at night. Bet and Nan were fifteen years old—twins. They were good-hearted girls， unclean， clothed in rags， and ignorant. Their mother was like them. But the father and 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; John Canty was a thief， and his mother， a beggar. They made beggars of the children， but failed to make thieves of them. Among the people that inhabited the house was a good old priest， 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. All Offal Court was just such another hive as Canty’s house. Drunkenness and brawling were the order every night and nearly all night long. Yet little Tom was not unhappy. He had a hard time of it， but did not know it. It was the sort of time all the Offal Court boys had， therefore he supposed it was the correct and comfortable thing. When he came home empty-handed at night after a day of begging， he knew his father would curse him and thrash him， and that when he was done the grandmother would do it all over again; and that in the night his starving mother would slip to him any scrap or crust she had been able to save for him. In summer， Tom only begged just enough to save himself， for the laws against begging were harsh， 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， 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 straw， tired， hungry， smarting from a thrashing， he let go his imagination and soon forgot his aches in picturings to himself of the charmed life of a prince in a palace. One desire came 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 at him so much that he kept his dream to himself after that. Each day he would go forth in his rags and beg a few farthings， eat his poor crust， take his customary abuse， and then stretch himself upon his handful of straw， and begin again his grand dreams. 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 rainy January day， on his usual begging tour， he tramped up and down， hour after hour， barefooted and cold， looking in at shop windows and longing for the pork-pies and other items displayed there—for to him these were foods 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. That night Tom reached home so wet and tired and hungry that it was not possible for his father and grandmother to see his condition and not be moved— after their fashion; so they gave him a beating at once and sent him to bed. For a long time his pain and hunger， and the swearing and the 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 jewelled and gilded princelings who lived in great palaces， and had servants bowing before them or flying to carry out their orders. And then， as usual， he dreamed he was a princeling himself. But when he awoke in the morning and looked upon the wretchedness about him， his dream had its usual effect—it made worse the poverty of his surroundings. Then came bitterness， and heartbreak， and tears.
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