The Prince and The Pauper by Mark Twain Chapter 4 Page 6

Ah, but this was not a joke — this was going beyond fun. The laughter ceased on the instant, and fury took its place. A dozen shouted —

“Hale him forth! To the horse-pond, to the horse-pond! Where be the dogs? Ho, there, Lion! ho, Fangs!”

Then followed such a thing as England had never seen before — the sacred person of the heir to the throne rudely buffeted by plebeian hands, and set upon and torn by dogs.

As night drew to a close that day, the prince found himself far down in the close-built portion of the city.

His body was bruised, his hands were bleeding, and his rags were all besmirched with mud. He wandered on and on, and grew more and more bewildered, and so tired and faint he