Принц и нищий
The Prince with the Tramps
Buthungerispride’smaster;so,astheeveningdrewnear,hemadeanattemptatanotherfarmhouse;butherehefaredworsethanbefore;forhewascalledhardnamesandwaspromisedarrestasavagrantexcepthemovedonpromptly.
Thenightcameon,chillyandovercast;andstillthefootsoremonarchlabouredslowlyon.Hewasobligedtokeepmoving,foreverytimehesatdowntoresthewassoonpenetratedtothebonewiththecold.Allhissensationsandexperiences,ashemovedthroughthesolemngloomandtheemptyvastnessofthenight,werenewandstrangetohim.Atintervalsheheardvoicesapproach,passby,andfadeintosilence;andashesawnothingmoreofthebodiestheybelongedtothanasortofformlessdriftingblur,therewassomethingspectralanduncannyaboutitallthatmadehimshudder.Occasionallyhecaughtthetwinkleofalight—alwaysfaraway,apparently—almostinanotherworld;ifheheardthetinkleofasheep’sbell,itwasvague,distant,indistinct;themuffledlowingoftheherdsfloatedtohimonthenightwindinvanishingcadences,amournfulsound;nowandthencamethecomplaininghowlofadogoverviewlessexpansesoffieldandforest;allsoundswereremote;theymadethelittleKingfeelthatalllifeandactivitywerefarremovedfromhim,andthathestoodsolitary,companionless,inthecentreofameasurelesssolitude.