[the boys are switching clothes - the prince holds up one of Tom's tattered garments] Prince Edward Tudor: Are there in any vermin in this? Tom Canty: So few you'll hardly notice them at all, your highness. [Miles has taken the Prince to his home for the night] Prince Edward Tudor: I'm hungry. What have you to tempt my appetite? Miles Hendon: Well, now, that depends on what didn't tempt the mices. Prince Edward Tudor: Mice? Miles Hendon: Oh, yes. I had to fatten them all up. You see the, uh, cat threatened to leave. Prince Edward Tudor: You're making a joke. Miles Hendon: The humor of being short of rations, my small friend, has always escaped me. Prince Edward Tudor: Then you're poor? Miles Hendon: Would you believe it? I am. [John and Hugo have brought the prince - thinking he's Tom - to help them steal from the inn] John Canty: Now, remember: if ya don't do like you've been told, we'll put climes on ya! Twenty of 'em! Ya know what climes are? [the prince shakes his head, 'no'] John Canty: Tell him, Hugo. Hugo: They're little bandages, with a bit o' paste on 'em, made o' soap and quicklime and rust off old iron. And when ya takes 'em off there's the nastiest looking sore that ever made a citizen sick. Sores that don't get well, but spread like a disease. Prince Edward Tudor: No... no... I'll steal. John Canty: Let's get at it then. [Miles sits down to share the supper] Prince Edward Tudor: Would you sit in the presence of your king? Miles Hendon: Now, see here, my lad! Prince Edward Tudor: I will no longer tolerate your manner. Miles Hendon: [humoring him] I ask your pardon, your majesty, but after that chase we led them it would be good to sit down. Prince Edward Tudor: Perhaps. [Miles sits] Prince Edward Tudor: No! Custom must be preserved - you will stand. [Miles stands and then leans against the wall, getting annoyed as the prince finishes the supper] Prince Edward Tudor: I was very hungry. Feel better now. Miles Hendon: I'm gratified, your majesty. Prince Edward Tudor: Come to think of it, I'm under obligation to you in many ways. Your service demands rich reward. Miles Hendon: Oh, a mere nothing, your majesty. Prince Edward Tudor: You may have any reward you wish... name it. Miles Hendon: The, uh, privilege of sitting in your majesty's presence.
Prince Edward Tudor
: Advance, fellow, and give me your sword. Miles Hendon: [gives his sword to the prince] Did you find the mutton tough, sire? Prince Edward Tudor: Kneel. [the prince lays the sword on Miles' shoulder] Prince Edward Tudor: While England remains - and the crown continues - you and your heirs, forever, may sit in the presence of the majesty of England. [he taps the sword on Miles' shoulder] Prince Edward Tudor: Arise, Sir Miles Hendon. Prince Edward Tudor: For pity sake, sit down. Miles Hendon: Thank you, your majesty. [Tom - as the prince - is signing documents] Tom Canty: Please, sir, how much longer must I do this? Earl of Hertford: This is the last, sire. Tom Canty: [starts to read the document] "Authorizes an increased tax on windows..." Do you mean to say we have a tax on windows? Earl of Hertford: May I suggest that your majesty cease troubling himself about... Tom Canty: But I'm head of the government. It's my job to be troubled about these things. And I think a tax on windows is cruel... unjust. Earl of Hertford: The royal treasury is empty, sire. Every means of replenishing it must be taken. Tom Canty: Yes... but windows. Don't you see when poor people are sick, windows are the only outside they have? Why they wouldn't have anything nice to look at if it weren't for windows. And, besides... that's taxing sunshine and light, which don't belong to us at all, but to God.