On the
floor and on the platform a deafening buzz of frantic conversation
burst forth, and for some time nobody knew anything or heard
anything or was interested in anything but what his neighbor was
shouting into his ear, or he was shouting into his neighbor's ear.
Time- nobody knew how much of it- swept by unheeded and unnoted. At
last a sudden hush fell upon the house, and in the same moment St.
John appeared upon the platform and held the Great Seal aloft in his
hand. Then such a shout went up!
'Long live the true king!'
For five minutes the air quaked with shouts and the crash of
musical instruments, and was white with a storm of waving
handkerchiefs; and through it all a ragged lad, the most conspicuous
figure in England, stood, flushed and happy and proud, in the center
of the spacious platform, with the great vassals of the kingdom
kneeling around him.
Then all rose, and Tom Canty cried out:
'Now, O my king, take these regal garments back, and give poor
Tom, thy servant, his shreds and remnants again.'
The Lord Protector spoke up:
'Let the small varlet be stripped and flung into the Tower.'
But the new king, the true king, said:
'I will not have it so. But for him I had not got my crown
again- none shall lay a hand upon him to harm him. And as for thee, my
good uncle, my Lord Protector, this conduct of thine is not grateful
toward this poor lad, for I hear he hath made thee a duke'- the
Protector blushed-' yet he was not a king; wherefore, what is thy fine
title worth now? To-morrow you shall sue to me, through him, for its
confirmation, else no duke, but a simple earl, shalt thou remain.
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