All language subtitles for sharpes.siege.1996.720p.bluray.x264-shortbrehd

MAN: Ducos...

Damn it. It's Ducos.

Major Ross

Hup!

Allez!

En garde! Allez!

(Battle cries)

- Allez!
- En garde!

Allez!

(Gunshot)

Arrh!

Attaque.

Yah!

Good shooting, Sharpe.

How the devil did you reload in time
to take on that third fellow?

I was bluffing, sir. It was empty.

- I'm deeply touched you came after me.
- I had no choice, sir.

I'm getting married the day after tomorrow.
You're giving away the bride.

Oh, yes, of course.

- You forgot, sir?
- Oh, don't make a fuss, Sharpe.

I've got bigger things to think about
than your wedding.

I've located General Calvets camp.

Wellington will need to be told about this.

G�n�ral.

Sick parade, ready for inspection, sir!

All right. Let's get on with it.

Warts, sir.

He keeps picking them.

Well, don't, or I'll chop your hand off.

Erm...

He's got a big nasty boil on his er...

Oh, bloody hell.
I didn't know you could get one there.

Oh.

He's got the er...

(Whispers)

Pox? What are you whispering for, Harper?

You think I haven't seen plenty of pox
in my time?

Oh, shit.

All right, but...

What's the matter with your face, Harper?

Wee bit of a barney, sir.
You should have seen the other fellow.

- What's the matter with your mouth?
- My mouth?

Yes, that opening between your nose
and your chin. Let's have a look.

- Aye, it's horrible.
- It'll have to come out, Dan.

It'll have to come out. Go and see the surgeon.

Dismissed!

Go on. Then. On the double.

Patrick,

what's the matter?

I have a wee little bit of a twinge
in my tooth, ma'am.

But er... Mr. Sharpe says I should go to
the surgeon and have it pulled out by the roots.

Take oil of cloves for the pain, Patrick,
and a little tincture of brandy for sleep.

Oh, thank you, ma'am.

Brandy seems a great idea.

- And oil of cloves.
- Oh, yes, ma'am.

Don't be too hard on them, Richard.

For my sake.

Hey, nagging me already?
You've only been here a fortnight.

The day after tomorrow,
I'll be able to nag you all the time.

Sir, Lord Wellington wishes to see you.

Hey!

DRILLMASTER: Left. Right. Left. Right.

Left. Right. Left.

- Major Sharpe.
- Sir.

I want you to meet the Compte de Maquerre.

Your servant, sir.

Major Sharpe, hm?

I've heard many tales of your bravery.

The Compte is from one of the oldest families
of Bordeaux.

He is also a sworn enemy of Bonaparte,

having remained resolutely loyal
to the Bourbons.

Now. The Count has come to us with a proposal.

He believes that the people of his area of
Bordeaux are ready to rise up against Napoleon.

If we were to put a force into the area.
Prior to our main attack.

He claims he could raise a rebellion.

Now, this rebellion could form
the basis for our invasion of France.

(Ross coughs)

Major General Ross, it has to be said,
is less than impressed.

Oh, no, no. It's an excellent proposal,

but I should mention that none of my agents
have reported that Bordeaux is ripe for rebellion.

With the greatest of respect, even the best of
your agents would not be as informed as myself.

I'm communicating to you
the feelings of my own people.

Their passionate hatred of Bonaparte.

- We should have a look, Ross.
SHARPE: I couldn't agree more. Sir.

If we send in a small force -

the Prince of Wales's Own Volunteers
and an active commander - I'm sure we...

It's a damned long way
into French territory, Sharpe.

Mind you, if we had a fortified position as a base,
it would be a different matter.

What kind of fortified position
did you have in mind?

Oh, your castle.

- My castle?
- It's clearly marked.

It commands the sea, a major road.

It would make a first-class assembly point
for forces raising a rebellion.

Give us your castle, Count, and I may see
my way clear to supporting this expedition.

(Coughs)

I would give my life for my King,
never mind the castle,

but it's not so easy.

My mother and sister, who occupy the castle,
are confirmed supporters of Bonaparte.

They've turned the place over to the military.

Who commands it? What strength?

The commander is Colonel Hernri Lassarn.

He has fifty men,

but he only needs ten.

The castle is virtually impregnable.

In that case, send in a company of riflemen
with the main force.

No, Sharpe.

We must defer to the Count.
No castle - no expedition.

Perhaps I have been too pessimistic.

It's many years since I lived there, but I could
draw maps of our castle from memory.

Maybe, with my help, a strong force

under a resolute commander
could take the castle.

I'm willing to try.

And that is exactly what we shall do, gentlemen.

- Dismissed.
- Yes, sir.

What do you make of him, Ross?

I don't know, but even if he was a complete fool,
I'm afraid we need him rather badly.

Calvet's troops are less than 100 miles away.

Calvet? That puts him on my flank
if I go for Toulouse.

A good job we found a way to call him off.

What better way
than to stir up trouble in Bordeaux, sir?

Yes. A bit rough on the poor fellows
we send in to take that castle.

Well, Sharpe's keen to command.
Promote him to colonel.

No, Ross. I've already chosen
the new commanding officer.

Oh? Who?

Colonel Horace Bampfylde.

A new arrival at camp. Still in his 20s.

A bit young, sir.

Bampfylde is a very young colonel
because his father is a very old general.

I give him a good command and his father
gives me all the stores I need to get to Paris.

Have a brandy, Ross.

- Evening, Smithers.
- Sir.

This way, Major. I've got you and your lady
a nice place over here.

Good man.

(Laughter)

Don't worry about that, sir.

If it wasn't for you,
I'd have lost the other one, as well.

Shall I start you off with a sherry, sir?

- Thank you.
- Thank you.

- Er, Smithers.
- Sir?

You told me I couldn't have that table.

What the blazes do you mean
giving it to some damn major?

I'm sorry, Colonel Bampfylde, the arrangements
for ladies' night were made some days ago.

Bloody cheek.

Colonel Bampfylde, this is Captain Frederickson.

Your servant, sir.

Colonel Bampfylde, may I in turn
introduce the Compte de Maquerre,

presently a personal guest
of Field Marshal Wellington.

Compte.

Colonel.

Please, gentlemen, sit.

So, Frederickson, seen much action?

- Too much.
- Hm!

Well, I'm sorry to hear you say that.
I can't wait to get cracking, myself.

BAMPFYLDE: Oh!

Hey, you! Call this decent claret?

SMITHERS: I'm sorry. Sir.

- I'll see what I can do.
- And you've given us the wrong glasses.

You stupid bloody bastard!

Sir! There are ladies present.

So I would have thought
there would be gentlemen present, also.

Pompous you g ass

Rather neatly put, I thought.

If there are ladies present,
gentlemen should be present, also.

Not bad for a man raised in the ranks.

Eh. Compte?

What we French call a "bon mot".

A good thing well said.

What, him? A Johny-jump-up?

Bloody cheek.

Probably trying to impress the lady he's with.

Niece of Sir Henry Simmerson.

Simmerson of the Horse Guards?

Good God! What's a girl of good family like that
doing with a Johny-jump-up?

Seems women find him devilishly attractive.

Damn the claret. Get me a brandy.

- Brandy, and be quick about it.
- Sir.

Sit down.

For the last time, sir, lower your voice.

Evening, ma'am.

I'm sorry to see you in such company.

Sir, as I seem to have given you some offence,
I shall be happy to give you satisfaction.

Satisfaction?

What does that mean?

It means I'm calling you out, sir. A duel.

Don't be a damned fool, sir.

If Wellington catches you dueling,
you'll be on the next ship back to England.

Wellington has his code, I have mine.

What does it take to make you fight me?
Wine in the face?

- Palmer, will you act as my second?
- Sir.

Your opponent's name?

Sharpe... of the 95th Rifles.

Favorite of the Prince of Wales.

PALMER: Hs that the same Sharpe who shot
three Dragoons while saving Wellington's life?

The same Sharpe
who took the Eagle at Talavera?

May I intercede?

Colonel Bampfylde is new in Spain.

Field Marshal Wellington's views on dueling
are very strict, sir.

Absolutely.

Er, Major Sharpe, may I apologize
for any offence I have caused you and the lady?

It doesn't do to duel
with your new commanding officer.

Apology accepted...

...sir.

Good night.

My new commanding officer.

SHARPE: Jane! Jane, it's me.
- Sssh! Sssh!

Oh, bloody hell.

I'm getting too old for this.

Do you mind if we go to bed now, Jane?
I've got to get up early in the morning.

And why must you get up so early,
Major Sharpe?

Well... as a matter of fact,

I'm getting married.

So all this has got to stop,

because tomorrow I'm turning over a new leaf.

Tomorrow...

...to fresh woods and pastures new.

It sounds like poetry.

It is poetry.

It's Milton.

Bugger Milton.

Do you, Richard Sharpe, take this woman,
Jane Gibbons, to be your lawful wedded wife?

To have and to hold,

in sickness and in health, till death do you part?

I do.

Do you. Jane Gibbons.

Take this man, Richard Sharpe,
to be your lawful wedded husband?

To have and to hold,

in sickness and in health. Till death do you part?

I do.

The ring.

I now pronounce you man and wife.

Till death do us part.

Come on. Double up. Double up.

Fall in on your markers.

SOLDIER: And prepare to move off.

Jane, you're burning.

Nonsense.

It was too warm last night.

Oh, Richard,
you've time to take that fresh linen to Ross.

You know how squalid these surgeons are.

It makes no difference to Ross what he wears.

He's that sick, he makes no sense.

Please, Richard. I promised.

Very well.

I'll come back and say goodbye.

Don't.

We've already said goodbye.

I don't want to see you till you're back again,
safe in bed with me.

- No.
- Ah, go on. Let me come with you.

Harper, Bampfylde has his own regimental
sergeant major. You'll have to stay here.

On top of which, you look like
you've got a cannonball in your gob.

It's just as well you keep following me around,

cos I'm off to see the surgeon - Kenefick.
Fall in behind me.

You fight dirty, so you do.

Ah, you do, so you do.

(Breathes heavily)

He's got the fever. You can't go in there.

Not unless you want to die.

What about you?

Jesuit's bark.

We call it quinine. Worth its weight in gold.

I've saved this one dose for myself,
if the worst comes to the worst.

(Ross coughs)

How bad is he?

I've done the best I can.

He's wrapped in red flannel, bled regular,

fed gunpowder and brandy.
Pukes his guts up every half-hour.

Best I can do.

I'd like you to take a look at my wife, Kenefick.

I think she's got the fever.

I'm sorry, Major.

Though I'm not surprised.

She is often here.

Jane?

Jane's been here?

She brings fruit, fresh figs, clean linen.

You let my wife in this slaughterhouse?

Good God, Sharpe. You married her.

Don't you know no power on Earth
can stop a woman once her mind's made up?

I'm sorry.

She woke up sick this morning.

Skin like brown paper heated over a fire.

Is that how it starts?

Maybe. Most fevers start like that.

You'll know in a day and a night
whether it's fatal.

I'm off on a mission.

In that case, Sharpe, you should say
your goodbyes to her properly.

I must see her!

She has the fever, Sharpe.

If you go in there, you'll get the fever,
then you'll give it to our men.

Do you want our men facing the French
shaking with fever, Sharpe?

- Can't you move it faster?
- Carrying a lot of weight, sir.

Yes, so are you.

HARPER: Oh, Jesus!

(Mimics Harper) Oh, Jesus. Oh, Begorra.

HARRIS: I've got a stone in my boot.

(Hagman laughs)

(Groans)

Column. Halt.

Fever?

Fatigue, sir.

- Put him on the wagon, Sergeant Major.
- Sir.

My father says a sure cure for fatigue
is a fast flogging.

Give us a hand. Right.

Here. I'll take him.

PALMER: Column, forward!

Do you fancy a rest, Robinson?

No, I'm all right, Reilly. You go.

Thanks, Jack.

(Groans)

Sir!

- What's the matter with him?
- Fatigue, sir?

It looks more like fever to me.

- How can you tell that, sir?
- Why, it's simple, Robinson.

Just take a big long needle

and you stick it in his eyeball.

If it's fever, he won't feel a thing.

Where am I?

You're in a war, Reilly.

On one side there's you
and on the other side is me.

So, you and Robinson are on guard duty tonight.

And tomorrow night and the night after.

When you've finished, you'll know
the difference between fever and fatigue.

Now, get in line!

Do you think...
Would Sharpe have stuck a needle in my eye?

A needle? He hasn't got a needle.

He'd have used a bloody bayonet.

HAGMAN: I saw a maid milk a bull

Who's a fool now?

I saw a maid milk a bull

Every stroke a bucketful...

What, nobody put my tent up?

Have some soup, sir.

Bloody soup? Ain't you got any tea?

If Harper was here, he'd have my tent up
and the tea brewing and my bed turned down.

That er... Colonel Bumfield, sir...

Bampfylde.

Aye, him.

He's supping tea...

by his fire,

even as we speak. Sir.

Hm.

(Horse neighs)

Whoa. Thank you.

Ahh. God, that tastes good.

- How come you're still a private soldier. Harper?
- Oh. It's my major. Sir. Major Sharpe.

He has it in for me, sir.

You hear that, Palmer? That fool Sharpe again.

When I told him I had a bit of a twinge in
my tooth, he threatened the surgeon on me, sir.

Said I'd have to have it pulled out by the root.

- Charming.
- I told him all I needed to sort it out

was oil of cloves and a drop of brandy.

I er...

I managed to locate the oil of cloves.

Oh, I've got some brandy.

Fytch, fetch me that bottle of brandy.

Sir.

I swear I'll bloody kill him.

Thanks.

- Medicinal purposes only.
- You're a decent man.

Harper! Where were you hiding?

How dare you frighten this poor fellow, Sharpe.

Hiding? W-What do you mean, hiding?

Isn't he one of your soldiers?

Yes, sir.

Sorry, sir.

Good. Glad to hear it.

Go and get the bedwarmer, Harper.

Bedwarmer? Oh, yes, sir

I must say. Sharpe.

I'm a strict disciplinarian,
but I don't hold with terrorizing the troops.

I've finished the maps, sir.

Oh. Splendid.

- Would you hike to look at them?
- Lay 'em on the chest.

Major Sharpe?

May we have your attention?

(Sighs)

What would you like most in the world,
Robinson?

A woman. You?

- A drink.
- I'll give you a drink for a woman.

I'll give you a woman for a drink.

Aye, that's why we're friends.
Share and share alike.

Who goes there?

- A friend.
- Pass, friend.

SHARPE: My compliments. Maquerre.
These are first-class maps.

I think I could find my way
around that damn castle in the dark.

Time for bed.

Tomorrow we'll be in sight of the castle.

Tomorrow to fresh woods
and pastures new.

Fiddle strikes up

SOLDIER: Here you go. Lads. All right?

(Laughter)

Tea?

Thank you, Patrick.

No need to thank me, sir.

It's an absolute pleasure.

You'll be missing her, then?

Yeah.

She'll be fine, you know. She will be fine.

Yeah.

(Twig snaps)

Who goes there?

Pass, friend.

(Sword is drawn)

Reilly, do you hear something?

Reilly?

No! Reilly!

Reilly?

A French patrol?

They would have stolen the horses, sir.

Don't be silly, Sharpe. We're in France now.

Any passing peasant could be a friend or foe.

All right. Carry on.

(Clears throat) Would you like to say
a few words, Robinson?

(Sniffs)

Good luck, Reilly.

(Sniffs) Have a drink on me.

I've a terrible toothache, Reilly.
I need this a lot more than you do.

Oh, shite.

Column. Halt.

Major Sharpe! There it is, the bugger.

Glass, Palmer.

You don't need a glass, sir.
It's so bloody big, you can't miss it.

Right.

This is the castle.

This is the French high road.

We'll split forces here.

Split?

Sharpe, you and Captain Frederickson
take the Rifles and scout the high road.

The Compte says
you might intercept reinforcements.

Meanwhile, myself and the Prince of Wales's
Own Volunteers will attack the castle.

Are you sure you don't want us in support, sir?

Damn you, Sharpe!

You've got your orders.
What are you dawdling about here for?

Frederickson! Form the Rifles!

60th Rifles, prepare to march!

Rifles, march!

Left heel.

The Prince of Wales's Own Volunteers,
prepare to advance.

Sergeant Major.

Company, forward march!

Keep in line.

Keep it tight.

Keep going, men.

Aux armes!

Aux armes.

Be brave!

This is a day for heroes.

Fermez les volets.

(Moans softly)

On your feet, son. On your feet.

PALMER: Hold the line, men.

Hold the line.

Appr�tez.

Feu!

Aaargh!

It's all right, Palmer. I'm all right.

Come on! Forward!

(Screams)

The Colors are down. Take the Colors!

Take the Colors. Move on.

Move on!

Sergeant!

Move on! Move on!

Come on! Get up.

Come on!

Up! Come on!

Up, boys, up!

Come on! Come on!

HARPER: Company, halt.

Bampfylde's no soldier. He's a bloody butcher.

Begging your pardon. Sir.

(Explosions)

The ladders aren't long enough.

The poor bastards.

(Screaming)

Hold the ladders!

Get up those ladders!

Oh, my God. We're all going to die.

BAMPFYLDE: We're all going to die.

- I think we should fall back, sir.
- Do you think so, Palmer?

Yes. Yes, whatever you say.
Fall back. Give the order to fall back.

Fall back!

Argh!

- Fall back!
(Bugle sounds)

Feu.

(Explosion)

The men are restless, sir.

I know

There's a debt to be settled.

I'm going in that castle, Frederickson.

I don't know how, but I'm going in.

(Moaning)

Easy, there, lad. Easy. That's it.

Let's get it tied up.

We had bad luck today, Colonel Bampfylde...

...but we can have better luck tomorrow.

What do you mean
we could have better luck tomorrow?

Remember our mission, Colonel Bampfylde?
It was not to take the castle,

but to raise rebellion.

It's rebellion that will give Wellington
the confidence to come behind you.

How can we be sure the people here
are ready to rise against Bonaparte?

Because I'll ride to the nearest town tonight
and I'll bring back the mayor.

You'll be satisfied.

Would you?

Would you do that for me?

Bless you, Compte.

Goodbye.

- What we need is blood.
HAGMAN: Aye.

HAGMAN: Blood.

You want my tooth?

Mother of Jesus No way

A surgeon will have to take it out, anyway.

But you're not a surgeon.
Besides, you've no pincers.

What kind... What kind of a human being
carries pincers

around in his pocket?

I collect perfect teeth from dead Frogs.

When I get back to England
I intend to have a full set made.

All right. Let's get on with it. Strip him.

(Shirt is ripped)

Here. Quick, give me a drink.

Brandy.

Not too much.

It isn't your tooth.

- Would you like me to do it?
- You? He'll do it.

You might take an extra one
for your perfect set back in London.

I have grand teeth, you know.

Except for this one, the bastard.

Of course, you should use a screw claw.

Now, don't pull.

Push the tooth down towards the jawbone.

Twist it to the left,

then to the right.

Then slide it out.

Right.

Open up.

(Moans)

Aaargh!

- Sorry. It slipped.
- Here. Let me do it.

You?! I'll do it.

God damn you.

- Ahhh!
- Come on, Pat. Pull it.

That's it. You can do it, sarge.

That's it, sarge. Go on.

Go on! Go on!

- Get it out.
- Come on.

Go on, Pat. Go on. Get the bugger out.

Pull, Pat. Pull!

ALL: Yes!

Get him on a stretcher.

Go on. Come on, Pat. On you get.

On you get. That's it.

Don't waste it.

SHARPE: Spit it on your chest.

That's it.

(Lassan shouts)

(Frederickson replies)

We're in.

FRENCHMAN: Qu'est-ce qui se passe?

SHARPE: Tell him.

LASSAN: Aux armes! Aux armes!

Blow the bugle!

That's our bugle, sir. Blowing the rally.

PALMER: Some of our men
have got into that bloody castle.

(Gunfire)

Sergeant Major Waters, call the men to arms!

Argh!

(Battle cries)

Arr�tez le feu.

SHARPE: Stop firing.

Stop firing! They've surrendered.

Arr�tez de tirer.

Right. Get their guns.

Come on. Come on. On the double. Lads.

Come on. Quickly.

I am Colonel Henri Lassan.

We surrender to you.

I am Major Richard Sharpe
of the Prince of Wales's Own Volunteers.

I accept your surrender.

Non! You English brutes, you can't fight fair.
You have to trick your way into the castle.

Such a trick is perfectly acceptable, ma'am.
It's called a "ruse de guerre".

I don't care.
The Emperor would never stoop so low.

It was cowardly!

It was contemptible and... and...

- Conniving?
- Yes, conniving.

You speak excellent English, ma'am.

So, go and tell your fellow countrymen
they're free to go.

Free to go?

You are not keeping prisoners?

They're free to go.

And you must go, too.

(Whispers in French)

LASSAN: Mais allez-y.

Vous �tes une femme.

- Demandez-lui.
- Oui.

My mother, Madame Maquerre,
she's terribly ill with the fever. She's dying.

She's too sick to move.

I should like to stay here.

Make her last days here
as easy as possible, to look after her, please.

Very well.

You're welcome to stay,
Mademoiselle Maquerre.

Thank you.

You may keep your sword, sir.

Thank you, Major Sharpe.

As soon as my men have finished piling arms,
we will leave.

BAMPFYLDE: Secure the fort, men!

All right, lads. Spread out. Spread out, lads.

Stand aside.

What the bloody hell's going on here, Sharpe?

Frogs surrender and you let them swan around?

You haven't even taken that chap's sword.

Look, I said he could keep it.

Sir.

Now, if we put these men in cells,
we'll have to guard them day and night.

What with the wounded,
we just haven't got the men to do that, sir.

Very well.

Send them packing.

And you might as well
get back to your mission, Sharpe.

I'm in charge here.

All right, lads.

A pretty girl, Palmer.

Never had a French one before.
A first time for everything, what?

- Mademoiselle.
- Monsieur?

I'd be greatly obliged if you'd do me the honor
of dining with me this evening.

Au revoir, monsieur.

Come on.

(Sheep bleat)

(Frederickson pants)

SHARPE: A French convoy.

Nice pickings.

Right.

Frederickson, take half the men.
Get behind that wall.

I'll take the other half, get in that ditch.
Catch 'em in t'crossfire.

Harper, you get yourself in that farmhouse.

When the head of the column reaches you,
give 'em a volley.

Then it's up and at 'em.

Go.

Get to your post, Robinson.

Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.

(Sheep bleat)

(Rustling)

Sssh!

MAN: Brigitte!

Husband?

Non. Papa.

Good man, Maquerre.
Is this the mayor?

Bonjour.

Monsieur.

- He speaks English, sir.
- Yes.

Oh, thank heavens for that.

My name is Colonel Bampfylde, commander of
His Britannic Majesty's forces here in Bordeaux.

You may deal with me
as with Wellington himself.

I can see the Colonel is a great commander.

As Mayor of Arcon. I too am a commander.

I command all the civilian forces in this region.

We are ready to raise the flag of rebellion
against the usurper Napoleon Bonaparte

and to declare our loyalty to the true king,
Louis Philippe, Prince de Bourbon.

Well, well.
Wellington will be glad to hear this, what.

With all due respects, Colonel Bampfylde,
the sooner the better.

Something on your mind, Maquerre?

Rumors of the rebellion have already reached
General Calvet. He's marching in this direction.

Er... what do you suggest we do?

Go home. Tell Wellington to speed his advance.

Go home?

Remember, our mission was twofold.

First, to make sure
that the region was ready for rebellion.

Second, to take the castle.

You've done both.

You'll go home a hero.

I say, steady on.

What about Major Sharpe?

Erm... Erm...

Major Sharpe has erm...

How should I say? An accident.

Yesterday, he met General Calvet's
advance guard.

I'm awfully sorry. I hear there were no survivors.

Good God.

We'd better be off, Maquerre, what?

Before you go, destroy all the defenses.
We don't want them falling into the wrong hands.

- Yes, yes, yes. I agree.
- You must also decide about the wounded.

BAMPFYLDE: We'll never get back
if we're carrying all those.

We'll have to leave them here.

What will Wellington say
if I leave all the wounded here?

My sister Catherine will look after them.
They'll be in her care.

- Be sure they'll be treated as prisoners of war.
- Oh, yes.

Good. That makes sense to me.
I'm much obliged to you, sir.

Right. Let's get back to Wellington.

You will back me up on all this,
won't you, Maquerre?

Of course, sir, but first,
allow me to say goodbye to my mother.

Oh, of course.

(Door is unlatched)

(Moans)

Make ready

You see the troopers?

HARPER: Well, take them down.

We don't want them running away
with any messages.

Steady. Now.

Fire!

- Fire!
- Couvert.

(Screaming)

Fire!

Tirez! Mon Dieu. Tirez!

- Up and at 'em!
HAGMAN: Come on, lads!

HARPER: Keep it up, Robinson.
The rest of you, follow me.

Halt! Stop.

Stop.

Stop firing.

Stop firing. They've had enough.

Whoa, Patrick. Leave it.

All right, boys. Let's get the loot.

SOLDIERS: Yes!

Let's see what they've got. Over here!

What's this?

I've got some silver here.

(Contents rattle)
- Gold?

Key!

- Fine. I take it with your hand attached.
- No, no.

What is it? Tobacco?

It's Jesuit's bark.

It's quinine.

- Sawbones.
- Get it off him.

Guard it with your life.

(Rowdy chatter)

What luck. Voltaire!

- Has anybody seen Robinson?
(Brigitte screams)

(Screams)

Will.

(Giggling)

Robinson!

Are you a Catholic. Robinson?

- No, why?
- If you are, I'd say an act of contrition for you.

Have a drink, anyway.

- I'm sorry, Frederickson.
- Good God, Sharpe! Not for that?

String him up!

Tie a hard knot, Hagman.
Break his neck. I don't want him to suffer.

I'm sorry, Robinson. You're a brave soldier,
but if I don't hang you, Wellington'll hang me.

- No, Sharpe. You can't!
- Look, you know the rules.

These people are on our side. Raping and
robbing will turn the whole population against us.

That's why Wellington strings 'em up.

It's only rape if the girl says so.

Ask the girl, sir.

All right, then.

- Harris.
- Sir.

Oui.

There you are, sir. The girl's happy, sir.

Non!

Her father isn't.

Give me the sovereigns, Frederickson.

They're for you.

Harper, take Robinson behind the barn.

Teach him he does not make free
with the French girls.

Sir!

Harris, ask the old man
if he'd rise against Bonaparte.

Est-il vrai que vous �tes pr�t
� vous lever contre Bonaparte?

So much
for the Compte de Maquerre's rebellion.

(Explosion)

That's the bloody fort!

'Ey up.

- What's happened?
- Where is everybody?

Steady. Lads. Steady.

Where the hell is everybody?

Where's Bampfylde?

Why have they blown the bloody gates?

SOLDIER: Hey, it's the sarge.

Sir! Wounded men, sir.

Frederickson, get that surgeon over here.

Sir.

Here.

Maquerre said you were dead, Sharpe.

Did he?

Where's Bampfylde?

He's gone.

Maquerre came back
with the Mayor of Arcon, sir.

He said Bordeaux was ready
to rise in rebellion against Napoleon.

Bampfylde cleared off
to give Wellington the good news.

So why did he spike the guns?
Why did he blow the gates?

Maquerre persuaded him to do it. He didn't want
the castle falling into the wrong hands.

My hands.

The man with Maquerre, the mayor,
what did he look like?

Er...

His face was like a dead fish.

Round glasses. Didn't look much like a mayor.

He seemed to be giving Maquerre his orders.

Ducos

If Ducos was here, Calvet can't be far behind.

He'll get here before Wellington.

- We're all going to die here, Sharpe.
- No, we're not.

Take out the bullet.

C'est trop pr�s de l'art�re principale.

He says it's too close to the main artery.

Take it out.

He dies - you die.

(Whimpers)

Argh.

Argh!

(Sobs)

You've done well, Palmer.

You've done well, son.

I'm much obliged, Sharpe.

Well?

- They've flooded the powder magazine.
- It's like porridge.

(Sighs)

So, what have we got?

18 rounds per man, sir.

18 rounds.

Our only chance
is to get 'em to come through them gates.

So don't repair the gates. Leave them open.

We'll get them into the courtyard.

I hope our volleys are enough
to put the fear of God into them.

- And if our volleys don't stop them?
- Any other suggestions?

We could go back to camp, tell Wellington
what Bampfylde's been up to here.

He'd hang him from the nearest tree.

Yeah, well, I'm staying here.

Yeah? Why is that, Harper?

I've got another bit of a toothache.
I wouldn't want to lose another tooth, would I?

I'll take my chances with General Calvet.

I beg your pardon, sir,
but Miss Catherine would like to see you.

All right.

(Door is unlatched)

My mother has the fever.

She's dying.

I'm sorry to hear that, miss.

I am sorry for you.
I hear your wife is dying of the same fever.

That's why you wanted the quinine?

For your wife?

Yes.

It's very difficult for me to ask a favor
of an English officer.

But I must, for her.

It is not likely you will see your wife again.

- Calvet's coming.
- So I hear.

But if you leave now and take the quinine,
you can save her life.

I'm sorry, miss. I can't leave.

I must do my duty.

Your duty? To whom?

To Bampfylde, that coward,
who left his wounded here?

My duty is to Wellington, miss.

My orders were to take the castle
and hold it until he advances.

My God. The invasion of France has begun.

This is the beginning of the end, isn't it?

I'm sorry, miss. I must be about my duties.

No. Wait. I haven't finished.

If you stay here, you will die,
so why not give me the quinine now?

Put yourself in my place.

If I give you the quinine, I may as well go and
tell my men that none of them are going home.

What would you do?

I would do the same as you.

I would keep the quinine
and hope to see my wife.

(Catherine sobs)

Show the Colors, boys.

I want three cheers for Field Marshal Wellington.

- Hip, hip.
MEN: Huzzah.

Hip, hip.

Huzzah!

- Hip, hip.
- Huzzah!

- Have you still got that box?
- Yes, sir.

- Tell Harris to take it to Mme Maquerre's room.
- All of it, sir?

- All of it.
- Is that an order or a request?

That's me telling you.

Are you not going to save some
for your wife, sir?

Shite.

(Drumbeats)

HAGMAN: For I am thine and thou art mine

No man shall uncomfort thee

We'll join our hands in wedded bands

And married we shall be

It'll all be over tomorrow, sir.

Then you can go back and see her, eh?

Yeah.

M�dicament, M�re.

Thanks, Pat.

I was thinking.

Things could be an awful lot worse, you know.

How the bloody hell could things get worse, Pat?

We could be without the cup of tea.

Bon.

What are you doing?

I'm casting my own bullets, sir,
and grinding down powder.

Then I can hit them from 400 yards,
instead of 200 yards.

- Why don't you wait for them?
- At 200 yards, they're running. Too hard to hit.

At 400 yards. They think you can't hit 'em.

They swagger about,
all cocky like, not taking cover.

Yeah.

Frederickson says
you're the best shot in the Brigade.

I reckon so, sir.

You hear that, Hagman?

He reckons he's the best shot in the Brigade.

Aye.

I have heard, sir.

If you grind it too fine,
it'll blow your bloody head off.

Then nobody'll know who's t'best shot.
Thee or me.

CATHERINE: Major Sharpe.

It's my mother. The fever has broken.

That's good.

I'm a good Frenchwoman...

...but if I were a man, I would be a soldier.

And if I were a soldier,

I would have sworn an oath of loyalty
to my Emperor.

- I understand.
- But I am not a soldier.

And so I can tell you something.

And what is that, mademoiselle?

The cellar, it is full of oyster shells.

Burn them.

Oyster shells?

What happens when you burn oyster shells?

You get ash, I suppose.

I was born in a fishing village, sir.

The fishermen used to burn oyster shells
all the time.

- Why?
- To whitewash their houses. Sir.

When you burn oyster shells, you get lime.
You get that in the eyes, you go blind.

(Floorboards creak)

I can't sleep.

I can't sleep, either.

Why, because of the battle?

No. Because you're sitting on my bed.

I couldn't sleep...

because of you

Because of me?

Yes.

You saved my mother's life.

So, I was lying in my bed
thinking how I could pay you back.

I can only pay you back with silver or...

- Gold?
- No, with my virtue.

But I know that you are not the kind of man
who will accept money.

Someday I will meet a man who will love me,
but that's tomorrow.

For you, there's no tomorrow.

So I must pay you back now.

Look... Catherine, you're a nice lass,
but er... I think you've made the wrong choice.

The wrong choice?

Well...

you said a woman could pay back a man
by giving him gold or giving him a good time.

You made the wrong choice. I'll have the gold.

You prefer to have the gold than my virtue?

Well, if you don't mind.

If I don't mind?

You monster.

You English monster.

That were close, Sharpe, eh?

If she came back, I doubt you'd stand.

SHARPE: They want to parley.

What do we do, sir?

Show a rag.

So, you've finally come out in your true colors.

Aristide, why are you wearing
Bonaparte's uniform?

I've won it in secret for 15 years,
hidden my heart even from my own family.

All these years, Aristide...

...you lied to us.

All these years... lost.

But now it's over. Now we're on the same side.

No we�re not.

Let me take my sick mother and sister.

Lay down your arms

- and General Calvet will give you your lives.
- All of them?

All of them.

Except for Major Sharpe.

Major Ducos has decided he must stay.

Why?

Will you let your men save themselves?
Will you let them speak?

Well? Speak your minds.

One question.

Did you kill Reilly?

One night, I had to leave the camp
to make contact.

He challenged me on my way back.

I had no choice.

So what do you say, Robinson?

Fight them to the finish, sir.

You'd better bugger off now.

And my mother, my sister,
will they come with me?

You may take your mother...

and your sister.

No, we stay

Nous ne bougerons pas d'ici, Aristide.

Aristide, you have been away from home
for too long.

We don't know you any more.

You're a stranger...

...and I have nothing more to say to you.

I don't believe you.

I don't think that you know what love is, Aristide,

otherwise you wouldn't...

you wouldn't have kept us alone for so long.

You wouldn't have lied to us for so many years.

Why did you do it?

For whom? For Bonaparte?

It's over, Aristide.

Au revoir, Maquerre.

Au revoir, Major Sharpe.

If you were in my position,
you would have done the same.

I might,

but I wouldn't expect a happy ending.

You have to be a man, Maquerre.

Me?

I changed my class. Rose in the ranks.

I can walk into the officers' mess,
but I don't expect them to be happy about it.

I don't expect a round of applause.

The same goes for my time with the lads.

I can sit and drink tea.
But I'm not one of them any more.

You make your bed, Maquerre,
and then you lie in it.

Without complaining.

The trouble with you is, you wanted it every way.

You wanted to be a spy for years.
Then you want to come back home.

You want everybody to gather round
and say what a big hero you've been.

The world's not like that, Maquerre.

You made your bed with Bonaparte.

Well, maybe he'll give you a medal.

Maybe not.

Me?

The next time you're in my sights
and outside a flag of parley, I'll shoot you.

No

Bugger!

(Gunshot)

You're a good shot, Robinson, lad.

The second best in t'Brigade, I should say.

(Grumbling)

Brigade, en avant! Marche!

(Drums)

- Vive l'Empereur!
- Vive l'Empereur!

We'll fire five rounds.

No more, no less.

You'll shoot officers and NCOs.

Then, when you count your ammunition,
every man will have 13 rounds left.

Fire in your own time.

Feu!

Vive l'Empereur! Vive l'Empereur!

- Vive l'Empereur!
- Vive l'Empereur!

Argh!

� la mort voir.

Feu!

Feu!

(Cannonball whistles through air)

Quickly! Pull it!

Come on!

Bravo, mes enfants. Vive l'Empereur!

Vive l'Empereur!

Fire!

Montez! Vive l'Empereur!

No

(Soldier coughs)

Form ranks. Form ranks at the gates.

(Confused moaning)

FREDERICKSON: Second rank, form here.
Form rank!

HARPER: Stand by me.

Fire!

Make ready

Fire!

Third rank,

Make ready

Fire!

Fourth rank, make ready.

Fire!

Make ready. Fire!

Fire!

Fire!

Fire!

Fire!

Make ready
Wait

Retraite. Ils sont de trop.

Serrez les rangs. � l'attaque! � l'attaque.

FREDERICKSON: Second rank, form!

(Gunshot)

FREDERICKSON: Make ready.

Fire!

SHARPE: Form with me.

Tour perdu. Vive l'Empereur!

- Advance.
- The rifles are empty. Sir.

Retournez! Serrez les rangs. � l'attaque!

Halt.

Ah, oui.

SOLDIER: Jouer � la guerre. On a perdu.

(Gaston groans)

(Sighs)

- (Nervous laughter)
- Thank God.

(Moaning)

(Moans)

(Death rattle)

(Howls of agony)

� l'infinmi�ne d'abond

Brancard. Vous voyez urn brancard?

G�n�ral Calvet.

(Whispers) Calvet's going.

What?

SHARPE: Where's he going?

Wait till you hear this, sir.
It's a courier from Wellington.

What news?

He's forced a passage through, 50 miles east.

East?

Bait.

That's all we were.

Just bloody bait.

And he'd have left us here to die.

Better get back,

tell our side of the story.

Come on, sir. Let's go home.

We're going home. We're going home, lads.

(Soldiers cheer)

SOLDIER: Come on.

Sir.

I've found a short cut home, sir.

What are you bloody waiting for, Captain?

I want to see my wife.

I want to see my wife before...

Major Sharpe.

Merci. Thank you.

Goodbye, ma'am.

And so, having made every provision
for the comfort of the wounded,

I made my way back as quickly as possible.

- How did Colonel Maquerre conduct himself?
- I cannot speak too highly of his conduct, sir.

Despite my pleading with him to return with me,
he insisted on staying behind to raise rebellion.

And Major Sharpe?

I'll afraid Major Sharpe was away at the time.
Plundering a French convoy.

However, I have been reliably informed
by the Mayor of Arcon

that he was ambushed and overpowered.

I can only assume that he's either been killed
or surrendered to the French.

(Marching soldiers)

Well, er... I suppose we could ask him.

How do you mean, sir?

My lord.

Sir,

under the provisions of the Army Act,

I wish to charge Colonel Bampfylde
with cowardice

in the face of the enemy.
Abandoning his position.

Abandoning the wounded.

Conspiring with the Compte de Maquerre -
a spy in the service of Bonaparte -

to desert his position
and throw the blame on Major Sharpe.

I further wish to report, sir,
that Major Sharpe tended the wounded,

successfully repulsed an attack
by General Calvet's brigade

and brought us all safely back home here, sir.

Is that all, Captain Palmer?

It's almost all, sir.

Field Marshal Wellington,

Captain Palmer assaulted me.

He struck a superior officer.

You're no longer a superior officer, Bampfylde.
Get out!

Sir.

Colonel Bampfylde, you're under close arrest
pending court martial.

You'll surrender your sword.

- My lord.
- Ross.

Sharpe.

You're looking well, sir.

Thank you, Sharpe.

- Kenefick's quinine did the trick, then?
- Oh, don't be a damned fool.

The brandy your wife brought me every day

did the trick.

The brandy my wife?

You mean, she's still...

She's well, Sharpe. She's waiting for you.

- You'll find her with the wounded.
- Sir.

Jane.

Oh, God.

I thought I'd lost you.

I thought I'd lost you.

When you've stopped wasting
my assistant's time...

Jane. I'd be obliged for your assistance.

I must take a man's foot off, and I want
somebody to hold his hand while I'm doing it.

He went to Wellington.

Wellington somehow wormed a little quinine
from the Spaniards.

Wellington saved my life.

He must think a lot of you, Richard.

So do I.

KENEFICK: Jane, the small saw, if you please.

# Then fall in, lads, behind the drum

# With Colors blazing like the sun

# Along the road to come what may

# Over the hills and far away

# O'er the hills and o'er the main

# Through Flanders, Portugal and Spain

# King George commands and we obey

# Over the hills and far away