The Prince and The Pauper by Mark Twain Chapter 4 Page 9

“Oh, art his father, truly?

Sweet heaven grant it be so — then wilt thou fetch him away and restore me!”

“His father? I know not what thou mean’st; I but know I am thy father, as thou shalt soon have cause to — ”

“Oh, jest not, palter not, delay not! — I am worn, I am wounded, I can bear no more. Take me to the king my father, and he will make thee rich beyond thy wildest dreams. Believe me, man, believe me! — I speak no lie, but only the truth! — put forth thy hand and save me! I am indeed the Prince of Wales!”

The man stared down, stupefied, upon the lad, then shook his head and muttered —