Original subtitles

25.000 English from Closed Caption

And we throw it and it.. Ha!

Just a roll of the dice!

Bad luck, John Canty! Away riches.

London, 1535

The Prince and the Pauper (2000)

Your Majesty, word from the queen's lady in waiting.

- Is it a boy? - Sire, I don't know, I..

Pray it's a boy.

- Good lungs. - Good lungs.

An heir! Oh!

Well done, Jane.

Your Majesty, may I be the first

to offer my heartfelt congratulations..

Announce it. Let it be known:

Edward, Prince of Wales,

future king...

is born.

- What is it? - A beautiful boy.

That's something.

I was thinking Thomas... Tom.

Can't you shut it up?

12 years later

Recant! I command you!

Never! You're a terrible king!

Daniel Hunter, on your knees and beg or forever forfeit your dukedom.

Majesty, forgive my foolish words.

And if you don't, I will tell the world

of your begging and rogueing, Tom Canty!

I, a beggar?

No one would believe you.

They would! Then I'd be king.

- And "rogueing" is not a word. - Isn't it?

When I'm king, I'll make it one.

What's that? Come on.

Is it the king? And the prince?

Look at that.

The water aggravates my leg.

- Send for the royal coach. - Sire, I beg you to rest.

Your Majesty should rest more

and place the burdens of state on your loyal servants.

Sir! The king does not need rest.

He needs a coach!

Uncle, if those of low birth were washed and dressed..

Do not gaze at the rabble. It is unseemly.

Of course.

- Ah! - Good for nothing!

We've got a living to make! Have you forgotten the burnings?

No, I..

I did forget. Forgive me.

I'll forgive you. Thousands wouldn't.

...Do hereby announce

by warrant of his Majesty King Henry VIII...

...defender of the faith, that Ann Askew

be burnt until the fire do consume her.

Please, sir, spare a penny for a poor lost soul.

- Away with you! - Please, sir.

- What the.. Give it back! - Here, take this.

- Help! I've been stabbed! - No!

Help! Help me!

- What.. What are you doing? - Stop him!

- Hey hey! What? - Make way!

Make way! Make way!

Constable, I never done it!

- Did anyone see anything? - This ain't my knife!

Do you have any witnesses?

Would anyone save this man's neck

- ..or see this man condemned? - I.. I..

Tom, where have you been?

- I ain't done nothing. - Anything.

I have not done anything.

What's the matter?

Tell me, son.

Oh, Tom, I can guess.

I'm sorry.

I've let you down. I'm so sorry.

Hey! I won't stand locked outside me own door!

- Where is the little darlin'? - I thought he was with you.

Boy!

Tom!

Son, where are you?

His Majesty's leg ails him! Get a stretcher immediately!

You there.

It is more usual to bow.

But I'll accept a slack jaw as a similar mark of respect.

Forgive me.

I shall return immediately from whence I came.

You speak well for one so ragged.

Are you hungry?

My mother teaches me fine talk, highness.

And old Father Andrew, latin, sometimes.

And no, sir, I'm not hungry.

You look starved.

- I will find you a meal. - Forgive me, no.

- Come with me. - Your Majesty...

Fix the padding and the fur of his highness's crown.

Come. There is a better route.

So tell me your name.

Tom Canty, sir. Thomas.

And you live where?

Offal Court, sir.. Pudding Lane.

- Pudding Lane? - 'tis a daft name.

- And you have family? - Yes, sir.

My mother, my sisters Nan and Bet, my grandmother...

No father?

- Well? - I have no father.

I have no mother.

Stand here awhile. What do you eat?

Which foods do you enjoy?

Sir, I eat whatever food I can get.

- Your highness. - Bring me a large fine meal,

and quickly, too.

A large fine meal for his highness.

Tell me, Tom Canty, do you play?

- Play what, sir? - Play.

- Do you have friends your age? - Oh yes, sir.

Dan Hunter's my best friend. Also Stephen Bartlett.

How do you play?

Well, sometimes down by the river

we fight with wooden sticks for swords...

being that we have no real ones like yours.

Ah, fencing.

What rules do you play?

Point in line, right of way, riposte and counter-riposte?

In truth, sir, down by the river 'tis more an affair of...

'tis mud from top to toe, your highness.

- Do not think ill of me. - Think ill?

If just once I could clothe myself in rags

and revel in the mud with no one to forbid it...

And if just once I could clothe myself in...

In clothes such as these?

Forgive me, sir. I forgot my place.

There's nothing to forgive. Off with your rags.

- My lord? - For one moment, our wishes will come true.

Your cap.. Make haste.

Is it possible?

Your eyes, your mouth, even your voice...

All similar to that of mine.

Tom Canty, you could be a prince.

Here, quick, wipe your face.

One moment!

Let us enjoy this opportunity.

Eat. You're a prince until I return.

Enter!

Is there a banquet planned?

Your highness requested a large fine meal.

And this is it? For me?

- Displeases your highness? - No, no.

- Is it... - Is it enough?

It's tons. It is indeed plenty.

Hmm.

Out of the way, runt!

Your highness, may we begin?

Would your highness sit?

Thank you. That will be all?

- All, your highness? - Yes.

I am desirous to feed myself... without beady eyes upon me.

But, highness, um...

Meats must be tasted by a royal taster.

Why must he taste them? Can I not taste the meats myself?

Mmm.

Mmm!

What ho, lads. Let us frolic in the mud.

I am come for a game of fencing with sticks.

Tom? You all right?

I am happy, yes.

Your dad's been looking for you, Tom.

- But I have no father. - He's lost his marbles!

That John Canty's gone and hit him too hard.

Tom, take my advice, lie low for a bit.

He's really spoiling for blood.

You'd best not hang around, eh? In case he comes back.

- You would leave your friend? - Be careful, Tom!

Watch out for that dad of yours!

Mmm.

Good day. How much is one apple?

And "good day" to you, sir. More than you can afford.

Might I take one today and return tomorrow with double payment?

- Take two. - Thank you.

In truth, I'm not the beggar boy I appear.

In truth, I'm not the fool I appear. Away with you!

Before I have you branded for stealing!

Cheeky monkey.

Your highness was indeed hungry?

Yes, well, that was a meal fit for a prince.

Of course.

Highness... The great and holy seal.

Might I put it back?

No. Pass it here.

- I have nuts I would crack. - Nuts?

Most amusing. Most amusing.

Here, last one.

Mind and bring me double payment tomorrow.

Good, my lady. I thank you. I shall.

"Good, my lady." You belong in the palace, you do.

'tis true. Tell no one.

- Sir, may I ask you a question? - Highness...

If the prince.. If I...

were to go out, to muck about.. to take a walk,

how long might I be gone?

Highness...

- This is some new riddle. - No.

It don't matter. It matters not.

Oh, sir, where are you?

Hmm. There you go.

Oh, no, thank you. I am not a beggar.

Hmm.

- This one's just about ready.. - Leave that basket.

They're all rotten.

Clear off, guttersnipe!

I think "halt, who goes there?" is the correct challenge.

And I think you'd best clear off before I has your guts for garters.

Let me pass. I am the Prince of Wales.

Oh, in that case forgive me, your royal highness.

Beat it! Beat it, urchin.

Very well. You may regret this.

The Lady Jane Grey.

Highness. Cousin.

Good day.

So... What brings you here?

Is this not the hour we agreed?

- For reading Aristotle. - Aristotle?

You no longer wish to help me with my greek?

I cannot.

Very well. At least allow me to sit.

Of course. Forgive me.

I have forgotten myself. Would you like something to eat?

- Thank you... No. - Oh, you really should.

I have a fine piece of pork, hardly chewed,

in that box behind... you.

- Cousin, are you quite well? - Oh, your ladyship...

I can't bear it no more.

- Your highness! - I'm not your cousin.

I'm not the prince.

- Edward! - We look the same! It's true!

Eyes and ears and everything.

I looked in the mirror and for a minute, myself I thought I was the prince.

But I'm not! God forgive me.

I'm Tom Canty, beggar boy... from Offal Court, Pudding Lane.

The prince is unwell!

Stop it! You come back here!

What are you doing there?

Thievin'? There's slops for your trouble!

I'm looking for Offal Court, Pudding Lane.

Mmm. That way.

Ah, come lad!

What is this game, hmm?

Boy.

- I.. I.. - Speak.

I...

- What is this stuttering?! - I... I made a mistake.

See? 'twas a game!

I ran into the courtyard.

I was pushed. And then the prince.. and the corridors..

and he said he longed for mud and I longed for finery.

And food.. So much food. I knew it was wrong.

Please do not behead me.

Behead you?

- I'll not behead you. - Bless you, sir.

Henceforth I won't have a bad word said against you.

Sire.

- This could be serious. - Nonsense!

- How many fingers do I hold up? - Three, sire.

See?

And what is your name, title and lineage?

Tom Canty, sir. Son of John Canty, beggar boy.

Sire, if I might try an experiment?

Does your highness remember his latin?

I know some latin.

Deis rex, verus et patronis fidelis.

An easy one!

Answer him, son.

En ricas est rex,

verus et patronis fidelis.

Bravo!

See? Sane men who do not know that good King Henry

is defender of the faith... 'tis a passing malady.

...which will restore itself with rest.

- Leave us! - Your Majesty.

The prince... Needs peace.

Come closer.

Understand one thing:

A frailty such as this, however fleeting...

is an open window to those who would attack you.

Soon the throne will be yours and all England will depend on you.

Never...

Never deny that you are my son!

Swear!

I swear.

Mmm.

Now...

Sleep.

Sleep.

Majesty.

Excuse me. Can anyone tell me which is the Canty household?

Oi, John. Look what the cat dragged in.

So reckon you think coming back cap in hand,

I might give you mercy.

Depends, boy. Trust.. Your neck or mine.

- You're John Canty? - What are you talking, boy?

Now I see why he said he had no father.

Show sense, boy, or I'll beat sense into you.

I am not your son.

I am the Prince of Wales wearing his clothes.

- Right! That's it. - Where's Tom?

Where is he? Don't you touch my boy, John Canty!

Get out of here or I'll give you one.

Tom, will you come home, love?

- Your father is not gonna hurt you. - I'm not Tom Canty!

- I'm the Prince of Wales. - What, Tom?

What have you done to him?

- He's lost his head! - Tom, do you remember me, your sister Nan?

I'll give you something to remember.

In the name of my father good King Henry,

- ..will you listen to me? - Tom?

You must go to the palace and reclaim your true son.. Tom...

You can pay for those!

I warn you, you will all hang.

Come, friends, what can a small boy have done to deserve this?

Spilled a few beers? Allow me to replace them.

See here, this boy would betray his own father.

Round here we call that treason. Round here a father is king.

A good king does not beat his subjects.

Where have you been? This is the land of Henry Tudor.

Make yourself useful!

I shall!

Behind you!

Oh!

- I thank you. - You're welcome.

Boy, up the stairs!

Come back with my boy!

Where are you?

Look out.

Hyah! Hyah!

Next time, my friend!

Next time.

Your highness.

Your father awaits word that you are rested.

I slept. I have never had such a sleep.

Excellent. And you remember who you are?

I'm the king's son.

Not now.

Congratulations, highness.

For a spell, we were most... agitated.

Thank you.

Would you care to wash, highness?

- I am not dressed. - You have your gown.

Does he.. Do I... Go out in this?

- Go out? - To the water pump.. To wash?

Your highness, I bring the water to you.

We are your gentlemen of the toilette.

- Gentlemen in the toilet? - Gentlemen of the toilette.

We have your royal cloths, highness.

Your soaps and...

unguents.

Morning.

You slept fitfully.

This bed.. It would not serve a pauper.

Ha!

Softer than the hard floor, I trust.

We'd best move on. The more distance between us and your father, the better.

That was not my father.

Oh, I forgot.

- You're the Duke of Norfolk. - I'm not the..

- Who are you? - Hendon.

Miles Hendon, passing through on my way home from Spain.

And happy... to be of service, Your Majesty.

- You saved me. - No, you saved me.

- No, you saved me. - All right, I did.

But I hate to boast.

Your swordsmanship... was excellent.

I thank you.

- I would wash. - I would not stop you.

Yeah.

And you're the gentleman of the...

the gentleman of the face cloth, highness.

- Highness, a balm. - A balm?

Highness, it is for the face and hands.

A balm? Abominable, more like.

You'll come with me to my father's.

You'll be safe there and fed till we decide what to do with you.

- I require water to wash. - There's a pump outside.

Outside?

Have you ever seen a pump inside?

Do you sit without permission?

Permission?

In my company, you may sit whenever you like.

Poor lad, what dreadful fear have you lived in?

To think you could not even sit... without asking?

- Not I. You. - Your father is a wicked man.

- The king is a good man! - Compared to your father maybe.

Is the king not loved?

Fear not, brave one.

Mine has a heart big enough for us both.

Come!

I'm in a hurry to be home. Come.

Venison is the thing I missed most in Spain.

- Beef is my favorite. - Mmm.

- English beef. - Well then, we shall have beef.

- Can't we have them all? - Why not? I like your style.

This homecoming shall be a banquet. And duck.

Sarah likes duck.

Sarah? Who is Sarah?

When you look into the heavens and a star winks at you,

that is my Sarah.

In my monk's cell in Spain, the weeks turning into months,

the months into years, she is what kept me going.

Before I left, I made her a promise...

A solemn promise that I would not reach my 35th year without...

Without what?

Without bringing her

the scruffiest urchin in London to serve as a whipping boy.

Oh!

Here you are.

- Thank you. - And I bought you this.

Not greatly better than your own,

but we are down to our last few farthings.

I thank you.

You have exquisite manners for one so lowly.

You are a good and generous man, Miles Hendon.

Oh...

A monk in Santiago told me once

that whatever one gives in life goes on a journey and grows,

and eventually

finds its way back to you, only richer and purer.

What you give now you will receive back 100 times.

- Yes. That's the idea. - No. I will see to it.

Hmm?

I must confide in you now. You must listen carefully.

I am all ears.

I am not Tom Canty. I am Edward, Prince of Wales.

And one day I shall be king, and you shall have your reward.

And I look forward to it.

- You believe me! - Yes, of course.

You did not realize it before.

I was scolding you for sitting without permission

because I'm used to giving that permission,

- ..not requesting it. - I see!

- You wanted me to ask you. - Of course.

Would you sit in the presence of your future king?

Good heavens... No.

Look at me now.

I beg your forgiveness, Your Majesty.

Granted. You may sit.

I thank you.

There, your highness is... Content?

He is.

Wait!

When I'm back at Westminster,

you will come to court and claim your reward?

Indeed.

I shall be... a knight.

That is possible.

No, no. I tell you what:

- I will have a royal dispensation. - Being?

Permission to sit in the presence of the king

without asking.

It shall be granted.

Come on, then, my little Duke of Norfolk.

Onwards to Hendon Hall.

I'm not the Duke of Norfolk!

- This is wonderful. - Indeed, highness.

Highness, if I may be so bold,

your servants might deserve some small respite

during which they might rest and refresh themselves.

Of course.

- Send me someone to play knights. - Highness?

A boy. To play.

What is the point of this suit if not to..

Doesn't he.. Don't I play?

Highness, play?

There are usually your lessons, affairs of state.

Play, I cannot think..

- We might bring you a kitchen boy.. - Good.

Bring one.

Highness. A boy.

Good. You will do.

Bow, boy, before your prince.

It is usual to bow, but in this case

I shall accept a slack jaw as a similar mark of respect.

You may leave us.

Peace, my friend.

Now those fusty-heads have gone, show me what you can do with a sword.

But, sir, I've never held a real sword.

Let me tell you a secret.. Neither have I.

Got ya!

Pretty good! Ah.. Ha!

- Goodbye, your highness. - Thank you.

Thank me? No, sir, thank you.

Wait till my mom hears about this.

- I want to go... out. - Of course, highness.

Not like this.

Not as him.

Highness?

Not as him, and not as me.

- What goes on there? - Highness.

A trifling matter.. A murderer on his way to the gallows.

No!

I mean.. I would know...

I would know more. Who has he murdered?

Highness, I could inquire

but this need not concern your overstretched mind.

Then please inquire.

- The king has specifically asked.. - Inquire!

As you wish.

'tis quiet. They must be a prayer.

- Where are we? - A monastery.

Monks of St. Benedict.

Father Abbot is a friend of my father's.

He will feed us.

What has happened to England?

The king had no choice.

The monasteries were rich, their abbots greedy and fat.

Oh?

And King Henry isn't rich?

Or greedy? Or fat?

This was my favorite.

St. Anthony...

Finder of lost things.

When I felt lost and far from home, I prayed to him.

Little did I know.

- Sorry. - Sorry? Why should you be sorry?

Highness, it appears this man stabbed a merchant,

Robert Hargrave, in this very square.

Hang him!

Let him speak. Bring him nearer.

Mmm.

He's a killer!

Highness, have mercy on an innocent man.

What is your defense?

Highness, a man put the knife in my hand.

He called "help, help!"

As if I were the killer, but it must have been him.

That's what they all say.

"Knife in the hand, help, help." It is a thin excuse.

Perhaps it is true.

- An invented one might be easier to believe. - What is this?

- This man, could you describe him? - Yes, highness.

And I can do better. In jail, the inmates told me his name..

A common thief called John Canty.

He's pinned his crimes on other men before.

Highness, this entire business is concoction and conjecture.

We must have solid evidence.

Yes, before we take a life, we must have solid evidence.

You will not hang until this Canty fellow

is found and questioned.

Bless you, highness.

And he had a boy with him. He must have seen.

See to it.

God bless Prince Edward!

Bless him! God bless him!

You want to find that boy, John...

and sort him.

I'll find him.

That was an excellent performance, highness.

Thank you.

The mob will remember your wisdom and mercy.

You honor the throne of England even before you assume it.

Good.

Remind me, highness, if it is not unseemly to recall it,

during your... How shall I say it?

...Moment of madness, when you briefly forgot

your royal heritage and claimed another

altogether less illustrious...

What name was it, you used?

I... forgot.

Tom, was it not?

Tom... something?

It is possible.

Yes.

It is possible.

Someone here will know the fate of father Abbot.

You watch the horse.

Stop!

Stop him!

Stop that boy!

Here, take this.

Stop! stop!

- Game's up, boy! - I beg your pardon?

Shame on you! Shame on you!

- Come on. - I did not steal the pig!

- Come on! - A boy.. another boy,

with the pig.. Threw at me.

Miles! Where is my friend Miles?

Come! Come to me!

Oh! Ooh, my pig! My.. Oh, my pig!

Oh, my pig!

- Come here! Oh... - Pigs flying?

The magistrate will like that!

- Come on! - I didn't do it!

I didn't! Help! I didn't do it!

- Ooh, come, boy. - Let me go.

Son!

I hear your restoration to health

matches my decline.

You have made an exhibition of yourself.

It is not yet within your power to grant a royal pardon.

Will you have my throne before I'm gone?

Forgive me, Your Majesty.

- Leave us! - Sire.

My son will make his peace with me in private.

You too, my lord.

As you wish, Majesty.

Your Majesty, this man they were hanging,

I had good reason to believe he was innocent.

You have done well.

But perhaps too often, I have forgotten

the strength in mercy.

When I am gone, do you think that the people of England..

the peasants and the paupers will remember me well?

They will remember you, sire.

That they will, son.

A diplomatic answer.

And what about you?

Will you forget the brute in your father, the scoundrel,

and remember only the good?

My father...

I will try.

Swear?

I swear.

Good.

Good. Now...

- Hertford will be lord protector. - Oh.

Hertford is a rogue.

- I thought you liked him. - He's a boil on England's backside.

But you are not yet of age. It is the law.

You cannot rule without a protector.

If I must give you a devil, I'll give you a devil you know.

But remember, he cannot rule without you.

So...

Go!

- What's your name, boy? - Edward Tudor.

Edward... Tu...

Your real name, boy.

- Where are you from? Where do you live? - The Palace of Westminster.

This impudence will not serve you well.

I'm the Prince of Wales, I tell you! Son of...

Son of Miles Hendon, sir. Forgive me.. I left my boy unattended.

- You're this boy's father? - Yes.

And I beg leniency on his behalf.

- You encouraged him to steal this pig? - I did not steal the pig!

Why would the Prince of Wales steal a pig?

Forgive him, sir. He has moments of...

- Weakness. - That's as may be.

He stole a pig and must be punished. The value of the pig?

- Two and six, sir, but.. - Good. That is easy.

The penalty is death for anything over a shilling.

- Boy... - Wait, no! Poor little mite.

What now, woman? I have a meal going cold.

A meal? Is this justice?

If my father knew what was going on in his name.. Shh!

Maybe it's worth less. It could be less than a shilling.

Come to think of it, it was a horrible pig.

Poor little mite.

He reminds me of my own boy, God rest his soul.

Very well, in the name of his Majesty...

A dozen lashes.

I'm to be whipped?

Shh. Not if I can help it.

- No! It's worth two and six! - You should have thought of that.

You'll not have my pig for a shilling!

Want me to call back his worship? Tell him you lied on oath?

- No. - Bring it. After dark.

Friend, I beg you, let the boy go.

This business has been a complete misunderstanding.

Can't you say you whipped him soundly?

- Who will know? - It's not my decision, it's the law.

Oh, and summa cum laude. That's the law too, my friend.

Pardon? Summa cum laude, the law of crime after the fact.

What?

In simple terms, a crime after a crime

of obtaining cheap goods or cheap livestock,

as a result, quid pro quo, of a legal loophole.

Away with you or I'll have you whipped, too!

Your magistrate friend would have no choice.

Summa cum laude is a hanging, drawing

- ..and quartering offense. - Is it?

Pro bono. No mitigation.

- "Summer come loudly"? - Indeed. Summa cum laude.

Away with you both.

Very wise, my friend. To be safe in law,

you should restore the pig.

- I will. - And.. pay the lady.

- I'll pay her twice its value. - No, no, no. More.

Three times?

Make it 10.

Then if it should come to trial

you have the Jamon de Chorizo defense.

Remember those words. They could save your neck.

- "Ham-mon... de..." - Chorizo.

Your latin's terrible.

Thankfully, not as bad as his.

What's "Ham-mon de Chorizo"?

- That was spanish. - Spanish? Meaning?

Meaning "spicy pork."

- He told you? - What?

I'll tell you what: I am to be lord protector.

Do you know what that means?

It means that I cannot rule without you.

Wrong. It means, you cannot rule at all.

From now on, you will do exactly what I say, when I say it.

Or I will expose you, my friend, for the imposter that you are.

Your head will decorate a spike on the city walls.

Understood?

If you know who I am, aren't you going to try and find the real prince?

Why?

- Fetch the royal carriage. - Sir, where would you go?

I'm going on private business to Offal Court..

It doesn't matter where I'm going.

Your highness, I'm in a compromised position.

Lord Hertford has... expressly forbidden that you, uh..

Perhaps in the morning, you might arrange it with him?

If you had never once dipped your feet in mud

you would want to, would you not?

¶ There's no one fairer ¶ Than my love Sarah

¶ I wouldn't share her for the world

¶ And if I should listen ¶ To a man's private passion

¶ Then mud all over

¶ Will be my fashion!

So it's mud you want, is it? All right!

No!

- ¶ Then it's mud you'll get! - No!

So tell me now your promise to Sarah.

You would not reach your 35th year without...

Without.. You are impertinent.

Without her ring on my finger.

And it is today, isn't it? Your birthday?

No, tomorrow.

We are in time.

Just.

Your highness, at this hour, the king will be asleep.

I've had enough, do you hear me? This is a prison, not a palace.

His royal highness the Prince of Wales!

Leave us.

Come, boy.

Sit.

- Your Majesty.. - Would we have a song?

Remember?

The song I used to sing you.

Your Majesty, I have a confession to make

before this mess..

This terrible mess gets any worse.

You have a confession?

Oh, my son.

It is I who have a confession.

¶ My heart... ¶ And tenderly...

I've forgotten my own verse.

- Your Majesty, let me speak. - I'm tired.

Sir, I know I swore

that I would never deny that I was your son,

and I know I swore that I would stand up to Lord Hertford,

but, sire, I'm not your son. And he knows it.

I can't be king. I'm Tom Canty. I have my own father.

And I must make my peace with him... Somehow.

And, sire, I miss my mother.

I want to go back to her.

Sire?

Sire?

Sire?

Help! Help!

Help!

The king is dead!

Help!

Majesty, the lord protector respectfully requests

a meeting in his offices.

Make way for the king.

Majesty.

Come!

His Majesty the King.

Your Majesty.

You asked to go out, to see your family perhaps?

You must miss them.

It occurred to me, while you are here

living like a king, they should not suffer in poverty and neglect.

We should look after them.

- Where do they live? - They live in O...

I'll see they're well provided for.

Remind me of the street.

I have... forgotten.

Well, well, a little judicious reticence.

- Leave my family out of this. - I underestimated you.

Perhaps you could play the game after all.

Is ruling the country a game to you?

You may go... Your Majesty.

First the abbey, now this.

This is Hendon Hall?

Not the Hendon Hall I left behind.

Hello?

Wait for me here.

Come on you... Aren't you gonna sing with me?

Huh? Come on.

You know how it goes.

¶ Frog to a sadness strange

¶ And a frog turned to a prince ¶ And gladness reigned.

By heaven, I love muffins!

What say you, my love? I don't care if I do nothing..

..but toast muffins for the rest of my days. Sarah!

You?

Goodness me, my long-lost brother.

In time for muffins.

- We thought you were dead. - You thought I was dead?

Why?

You were gone for so much longer than planned.

Father sent word to the monastery to stay,

that the time was not right to return. Where is he?

No. When?

Five years, six.

That makes no sense.

Only last year, he sent word to s..

You sent word.

And Sarah received word from Santiago that I was dead.

Worse.

First, you married a spanish beauty. Dark eyes.

Then you died.

What poisoned you, brother?

Hmm?

- What poisoned you? - Tragic.

Thankfully she found a shoulder to lean on.

- What poisoned me? - Yes!

- What poisoned me?! - What poisoned you?

Father's look... When it fell to me from you.

- Joy, then contempt. - That's not true.

- He loved you. - No.

Everything you did sparked a light in his eyes,

every story you told, every witless song.

- He knew they were witless! - Yes! And he still loved them.

You were ugly and stupid... And graceless.

And still, "Miles this, Miles that."

Like the sun would never rise unless Miles Hendon,

firstborn son and heir, was here to bathe in its warm glow.

Did I not share with you?

What disturbance is this?

Arrest this man. And the boy.

- Arrest me? This is the villain! - No! No!

Sir Hugh, are you hurt?

Sir Hugh?

I am the eldest son! The estate, the title passes to me!

- I demand justice! - I'll give you justice.

Breaking and entering, grievous bodily harm,

attempted murder! Take them away!

No! Miles!

No!

Tom?

That was Tom!

Tom, is that you?

- Tom! - Stand back, there. Stand back!

Tom, why won't you look at me? What's become of you?

Look, he's crying.

That was Tom.

Leave him alone!

What's the matter? Haven't you seen an ear gone before?

Uh-huh. Careful! That's my new desk.

- Lord Hertford? - Yes?

My lord, excuse me,

but there are a few details to be looked at here.

You see, in the deeds..

No.

- Your Majesty? - No. I won't sign it.

- But, uh... Your Majesty... - More taxes?

The people have nothing left to tax.

Leave us.

No, remain.

- Your Majesty. - Majesty.

Your Majesty, these taxes are necessary.

- It has been agreed. - Not with me. What are they for?

They're for, uh... They're.. They're..

They're for the royal court. The, uh...

The new desks when the old ones will do?

As your lord protector, I insist.

No. As your king, I must insist.

I want this spending explained.. Every penny.

You there. Next!

Me? No, thank you.

Step forward.

Your lord has forsaken me. You cannot help me.

Let me try.

Miles! It is me!

God bless you, my child!

- Father Abbot! - Shhh.

"Friar Matthew" now.

These are dark days for monk and monastery.

Indeed.

In the last week I have lost my freedom, my father.

- And my love. - There is a plan..

To help you to escape. Be ready tomorrow evening.

- Escape. And the boy? - What boy?

Oh, no, no. Too dangerous.

You must save him before me.

He has his whole life ahead of him.

Jane, are you going to use your paper and quill?

No, never.

Then might I?

As long as you promise to be true to yourself

and never deny who you are or what you are.

That's what they wanted me to do.

That is easy. I promise.

- Goodbye. - Goodbye, Jane.

Be gentle. Be gentle with her!

Comfortable now, Majesty?

Out, please. Now!

Out. Go on.

So...

Everything ready, pauper king? Your robes, your crown?

Yes.

Amazing how quickly the hat fits, is it not?

I'll not be your puppet.

By the way, your mother and sisters are all well.

- Nan, is it, and little Bet? - If you harm them..

Now why would I do that?

I even sent them some coins, in fact..

To be paid from the new tax levy,

which I trust you will now consider signing after all.

I am glad they freed Jane. Aren't you?

She had suffered enough.

Did you see her face?

What? Freed?

What is this spectacle?

Heavenly father...

- Oh God. - ...we pray for the soul of Jane Hamilton.

Jane...?

...In the sure and certain knowledge

that the sins of the body shall be cleansed...

Why?

She was of the baptist faith and would not repent.

Come away.

The laws that have dishonored Jane and all of you

will be swept from the statute books. I will see to it.

England will be shamed no more.

- Oh yeah? You and whose army? - Enough, boy.

This is not the time or place.

I am the Prince of Wales and my father is King Henry.

And when I return to Westminster,

he will hear of what I have learnt here and elsewhere.

Might fall on deaf ears.

- It will not. - Dead ears, more like.

- What do you mean? - At least Harry had ears.

Had?

Good King Harry's dead, mate. Haven't you heard?

We have a boy king next.. Edward.

Crowning him any minute.

The king is dead?

The king is dead.

Miles, if my father is dead, then I am king.

We have to get away from here and to London, immediately..

You never give up, do you? It's not funny anymore, my friend.

But we have to get to London before the wrong boy is crowned king.

For the last time, would you hold your blasted tongue?

Right, you two, up.

You're beasts, not men.

Leave the boy out of this, he's innocent.

Leave him alone.

Are we to burn, too?

Hurry. Here it is.

You must make haste for France.

This letter will ensure you safe passage.

No. I must go to London forthwith.

I must speak with Sarah. If she has betrayed me...

She has betrayed you, but unwittingly.

She would make amends.

Sarah!

My love, I beg your forgiveness.

I never stopped loving you, even when I thought you were dead.

Nor I you.

Happy birthday, my darling.

So now go quickly

before your brother discovers his wife

and his best horse is absent.

Live long and happy lives.

Are you taking the boy?

On one condition:

no more on the Duke of Norfolk nonsense.

Promise?

And I'll promise never to lose my temper again.

That I cannot do. I am the King of England.

I am sorry.

That little tyke.

For tuppence I'd go after him, and give him a piece of my mind.

I saved his life.

Now you must save your own.

- We must hurry. - All right.

Bless you, father, and thank you. Come.

Well, that beggar brat wrote this?

And I saved him from a whipping.

"I am Edward Tudor, Prince of Wales,

son of King Henry VIII, born on the 11th day of october

in the year of our lord 1535."

- He has written it, too. - In latin?

- In latin? - Perfect latin.

And in perfect french.

And perfect greek.

Your Majesty,

I know it follows hard on the heels of your father's death,

but this is a happy day. It's the day you're crowned king.

Forgive me for reminding you, but today we set aside our sorrows.

Today all England rejoices.

- What can I do? - Smile.

That's all that's required. The people will love you for it.

There we are.

Wave, Your Majesty.

Excellent.

Long live the king. Long live the king.

Hurray. Long live the king.

Long live the king. Hurray.

Hey!

Hey!

Stop! Hey!

Tom!

Hey, hey!

Stop, Tom! Hey! Stop!

Got you, brat. And this time I ain't taking any chances.

Help! Help!

Help!

Oi, Canty!

- What's wrong, Canty? - Get them off of me!

You're wanted for questioning. Where is the boy?

Holy father who rulest over all the kingdoms of the world

and dost order them according to thy good pleasure,

look kindly upon your humble servants here present

and bless in particular Edward Tudor

that he might have the wisdom, the mercy

and the divine grace to rule as your vicar on earth.

Tom, is that you?

Tom! What's become of you?

You'll do the right thing, won't you, boy?

For your family's sake.

Hey!

I beg your forgiveness.

Ah-hhh! Help me!

Help me! Oh, oh, oh!

Keep back there, you!

- No. I need help! - Hey, you!

The wearing of the crown,

as sign and symbol of his great Majesty.

No. I can't do this.

I'm not Edward Tudor.

I don't care if you hang me.

Just don't touch my mother or sisters.

His Majesty's malady returns at moments of excitement.

We must proceed unperturbed.

- Archbishop. - But this is most irregular.

Proceed!

This crown as sign and symbol..

Stop!

Stop.

- He's not the king. - What is this impertinence?

- I am Edward Tudor. - Arrest that vagabond.

Do not lay a finger on him. He is the true king.

Archbishop, proceed.

He knows I'm not the real king

that's why he wants to see me crowned..

So he can rule himself behind the scenes.

This is nonsense. I am merely the lord protector.

Arrest that boy.

Arrest them both, I command you.

He said that if I did not obey, my head would decorate a spike.

He threatened my family. My father never trusted you, uncle.

Then your father should not have appointed me lord protector.

Then you admit it? This is King Henry's son.

Arrest him.

Don't touch me!

Pity.. I was growing quite fond of you.

God save the king.

Your Majesty.

Forgive me, Tom, for being gone longer than expected.

There's nothing to forgive. Off with your rags.

Bravo.

John Canty, you are henceforth exiled from England never to return.

You may thank your son for your life.

Hugh Hendon, you too shall be exiled.

Your marriage was a contract built on lies and deceit

and shall be annulled.

Sarah, you are free to marry whomsoever you may choose.

Ahem.. Miles Hendon, for services to the crown,

- ..you shall have... - I have my reward already.

Ah.

Sir, you may not sit in the presence of the king.

Oh, yes I can.

No, he may. I have conferred the right in perpetuity.

Sire, there's no precedent for this honor.

Then we shall establish a new precedent.

Under the name of...

The right of...

The right of Jamon de Chorizo!

His Majesty King Edward

begs forgiveness for taking longer than anticipated

to repay his debt to you.

- He what? - And this is interest.

We present their ladyships, Bet Canty...

Nan Canty...

Ann Canty...

and grandmother Canty.

These pigs are hereby presented by his royal highness...

My pigs!

On your knees, Daniel Hunter, and beg for mercy.

- Never, you scoundrel. - En garde!

Five more minutes.

En garde!

sync © 29.03.2021