Thomas Becket: Tonight you can do me the honor of christening my
King Henry: Forks?
Thomas Becket: Yes, from Florence. New little invention. It's
for pronging meat and carrying it to the mouth. Saves you from
dirtying your fingers.
King Henry: But then you dirty for fork.
Thomas Becket: Yes, but it's washable.
King Henry: So are your fingers! I don't see the point!
Thomas Becket: Well, it hasn't any practically speaking, but it's
refined, it's subtle, it's very.....un-Norman.
King Henry: Hahaha! You must order me some!