All language subtitles for 1993_Sharpe_s_Rifles_EP01_HD_VOSTEN.7.8.eng

That's it. That's it, all right.

Atten-shun!

Shoulder arms!

General salute. Present arms!

Morning, Hogan!

Morning, Sir Arthur.

Mon dieu! Milord Wellesley.

Eyes down.

On y va.

(Women scream)

(Gunshot)

Better late than never, Hogan.

What's your name?

Sharpe. Sergeant.

2nd Battalion, 95th Rifles, sir.

I'm much obliged to you.

You did me a damn good turn.

Now I'm going to do you a damn bad one.

I'm giving you a field commission, Sharpe.

From this moment on,
you're a lieutenant in the 95th.

Major Hogan,

- meet Mr Sharpe.
- Congratulations. Capital choice, sir.

The minute I saw him, I looked.

Hogan says, "Aye, that fellow don't seem much
but he's a natural-born officer."

Of course, you know, Sir Arthur,

he'll need a mentor.

Hogan, you keep your hands off him.

Hogan is an officer on...

- Ahem.
- On my staff.

Your colonel will be informed.

I'll request light duties till his wound be healed.

Good day to you both.

Light duties, sir. Light duties it is. Absolutely.

See here, Sharpe.

Light duties means staying at headquarters
and being snubbed by snobs.

How would you like me
to find you something else?

As long as it's safe, sir.

That's my boy.

(Sharpe clears his throat)

(Officers mutter and laugh)

So the bankers won't budge?

Afraid not, Sir Arthur.

We need to find Rothschild.

I'd like to suggest we add that fellow Sharpe
to Dunnett's search party.

I make a man an officer today and you want me
to send him into the mountains tomorrow.

- Have you no heart, Hogan?
- No, sir.

We need somebody
to command Dunnett's sharpshooters,

and Sharpe will be much happier
up in the mountains than up in the mess.

You know the problem, Sir Arthur.

Not one of us.

Lawford, let me see him.

Lieutenant Sharpe.

Don't be stupid.

Lieutenant Sharpe, sir.

Where did you get the uniform, Sharpe?

Major Hogan, sir.

What's that, Sharpe?

- It's a shilling, sir.
- The king's shilling, Sharpe.

Our last shilling.

London's late, the army's broke,

and we owe the lads two months' wages.

Next week, it'll be three.

Bad for the morale.

And more of our Spanish irregular support
will melt away without cash.

- What do you do when you're short of cash?
- Do without, sir.

You borrow, Richard.

From a bank.
Our banker is Nathan Rothschild of London.

Nathan's brother James runs a banking service

from Vienna to Lisbon under Boney's nose.

Ten weeks ago,

James set out from Vienna

with the bank draft.

He was to travel across France,
across the PyRénées, and into Spain

and make a rendezvous
at a place called Casa Antigua.

James Rothschild never turned up.

- But...
- Don't!

Don't tell me James is a banker
travelling across a country at war.

James is no clerk. He's done this before.

We know he got safely to Torrecastro,

and from there headed south

and is somewhere in these mountains.

So we're going to send out
a search party led by...

- Dunnett.
- Major Dunnett.

It means going a hundred miles

into occupied French territory.

Care to come along, Sharpe?

- But...
- Good. Tomorrow, I go on ahead. Alone.

It attracts less attention
and gives me a chance

to contact my Spanish agents
who are searching, too.

A small special force of Rifles attached
to Dunnett's force will travel a day behind,

in case I need help.

That's where you come in, Richard.

I want you to command the sharpshooters.

Sir Arthur.

The men you will be commanding must know
nothing ofthis mission in case of capture.

That is a secret shared
between you and your superior officers,

Major Dunnett and Captain Murray.

Whatever happens,
one of you must get through to Casa Antigua.

You'll find them camped
about three miles north of here.

- (Quill scratches)
- They like to live rough.

They expect you at dawn tomorrow.

Give this to Captain Murray.

Major Dunnett is an officer
ofthe old school, Sharpe.

He may not erm... He may not approve

of my raising an officerfrom the ranks.

Yes, sir.

He may not erm...

mind his manners.

So you must mind yours.

Sir.

Good luck, Mr Sharpe.

Er, Richard.

The shilling.

Will he do, Hogan?

Do or die, sir.

Teresa. Quitalos. Venga, rapido!

(Gunshots)

(Battle cries)

Arriba!

Allez! Attention!

Attention!

Regroupez-vous!

Chosen Men, Sharpe.

They may look like a band of gypsies

but they're the finest marksmen
in King George's army.

(Snores)

Oi!

Soldier.

Who goes there?

Lieutenant Sharpe.

95th Rifles.

Forgive me, sir. I didn't see you proper.

- And who are you?
- Isaiah Tongue.

Chosen Man, sir.

Chosen Man? Where are the others, Tongue?

In the barn, sir.

Sleeping on sentry's a shooting charge.

If I catch you again, I'll do it myself.

He could have had you shot, Sergeant.

Not me. Major Dunnett doesn't like officers
made up from the ranks.

Come on, Isaiah. I want to see what happens
when he wakes Harper.

Up!

Up, you lazy bastards!

(Snoring continues)

Up!

Come on!

Blessings are guarding you, friend.

Can't you see I'm an officer,
you bloody bogtrotter?

And I'm Napoleon Bonaparte.

Has anybody seen the new officer?

Major Dunnett told me to find him.

Name? Rank?

Patrick Michael Harper. Chosen Man, sir.

You? Chosen Man?

Show me.

What's this?

Liquor?

Liquor displeases the Lord.

Give it here, Harper, so I can destroy it.

Oh, blimey. A bloody Methodist.

That's best brandy, sir.

Top ofthe morning, Harper.

Who the blazes are you, sir?

Lieutenant Sharpe, sir.

These are my orders.

Sharpe.

Sharpe? Are you the fellow

- that Wellesley raised from the ranks?
- Sir.

These papers are in order, sir.
Seems Sharpe distinguished himself.

Not here, he hasn't.

Brawling with common soldiers.

- It won't do, Sharpe.
- No, sir.

(Clears throat)

Harper, you struck an officer.

- It's a shooting matter.
- I woke him up, sir.

He thought I was an intruder. All my fault, sir.

If you say so.

But we have standards here, Sharpe.

An officer must behave like a gentleman.
Even if he is not a gentleman.

- Yes, sir.
- We march in an hour.

Form a rearguard.

Full kit in five minutes!

Sweet is the silent mouth, Cooper.

Didn't say a word, did I?

Strange officer, that. Sharpe.

He's not a proper officer.

Proper bastard, though.

- Name?
- Cooper. Sir.

Where are you from, Cooper?

- Shoreditch, sir.
- Previous employment?

By way of a trader, sir. In property... and the like.

Would that be other people's property, Cooper?

- You.
- Daniel Hagman.

County of Cheshire. Poacher.

So, you're a good shot, then, are you, Hagman?

Aye, I can shoot, sir.

Go on, then.

Show me.

You've defaced the king's uniform, Hagman.

I can put you on a charge for that.

- Well?
- Harris. From Wheatley in Oxfordshire.

And previously?

A courtier to my Lord Bacchus
and an unremitting debtor.

You're a rake and a wastrel, Harris.

Is there anything you can do?

I can read, sir.

Isaiah Tongue, sir.

Yes, I know that. Where are you from, Tongue?

Dunno, sir.

- Speak up, man!
- Don't know, sir.

What about your family?

Don't know, sir.

Previous employment?

Army, sir.

Just army.

Why are you here, Harper?

You boneheaded Paddy.

So...

The Chosen Men, eh?

Well...

I didn't choose you.

But rememberthis.

I know you all.

I've always known you,

you and your kind, all my life.

All I know is how to fight.

So ifthere's any man amongst you
expecting a quick ramble through this war,

now's the time.

Be sure, now.

Right. Join the column.

At the double, left face!

Trail arms!

Quick march!

Halt!

Company, halt!

It's that way, sir.

We'll wait for dawn. Sergeant Williams!

Sir!

- We'll make camp now.
- Sir!

All right, lads, make camp.

Fletcher, Jones, Edwards - fetch firewood.

Morris and Brown - sentries.

Column dismissed!

Not you, Sharpe!

Take your men up that slope

and see what the terrain is like for tomorrow.

Well, you heard him.

See? We haven't got a proper officer
so we get pushed about like potboys.

(Hammering)

He's not a proper officer.

Never seems to tire.

Hard to catch him off guard.

He let you off light, 'Arp, back in the village.

So why so hard?

He's just not right, Cooper.

He's not happy being an officer.

And mark my words, he'll bring us bad luck.

We'll do it tomorrow.

In the mountains.

(Trigger clicks)

Vale.

The fire's started.

(Battle cries)

Prepare to fight!

Down!

Get down!

Or I'll kill him!

Rifles! To me!

(Neighing)

Oh, my God.

Young Perkins, sir.

Not a sound.

No! No!

Perkins, I want you
to protect this pennant with your life.

Yes, sir.

Never say die, Perkins.

Never again, sir.

They'll be back for them two.

Up! Keep moving!

No stop until dark.

♪ Tin whistle plays

You're in my light, damn you, Hagman!

I beg your pardon, sir.

But it's Captain Murray.

He's poorly, sir.

Harris.

Figure me this, Harris.

Where is the bugger planning on taking us?

Sorry to be so much trouble.

You did well today, Sharpe.

I did my duty, sir.

We're lost.

And we've lost Hogan's trail.

Try to find your way...

..to Casa Antigua.

I'll find it, sir.

Don't be too hard on the men, Sharpe.

How can I saythis without offence?

You see, the lads don't like an officer
who's come from the ranks.

They want an officer to be privileged...

..to be set apart from them...

..touched by grace.

Theythink of you as one ofthem, Sharpe.

One ofthe damned.

I know how hard it must be.

Sorry.

Of course I don't...

I don't know.

I'm just trying to think
of some practical advice after I've gone.

Oh, yes.

Get Patrick Harper on your side.

Is that an order, sir?

I want you to have my sword.

Maybe ifthe men see you carry it...

They'll think I'm a proper officer?

No, they'll think I liked you.

Thank you, sir.

Bloody silly place to die.

Captain Murray's dead.

Bury him.

And what then, hm?

We're lost, aren't we?

So we'll be heading south
towards Lisbon and home.

My orders are we continue north.

What for? What are we doing up here anyhow?

Did you ask Major Dunnett or Captain Murray
to explain their orders, Harper?

No. But with all due respect, Captain Murray
and Major Dunnett were proper officers.

Now they're dead,
there's no shame in going home.

We go north at dawn to Casa Antigua.

Carry on, Harper.

We've been having a chat.

We?

Me and the lads.

And?

We're not continuing north.

We want to go south.

MEN: Aye.
- What the hell do I care what you want?

Eh?

Who the hell do you think you are, Harper?

Do you think the British army is a bloody d-d...?

Democracy, sir. Comes from
the Greek word demos. It means...

Shut up, Harris!

Dismiss.

I see Captain Murray gave you his sword, sir.

The Captain always said a sword like that
put the fear of God in the French.

We're going south, sir.

We'd like you to come with us.

And suppose I don't?

And I get to Lisbon and report you?

They shoot mutineers, Harper.

Best if you come with us, sir.

I go south or you kill me?

That's it?

Very well.

Fetch my pack, Harper.

You Irish scum.

Go on! Finish him off!

- Harper!
- Come on, Harper!

- Hit him!
- He's all yours now. Come on!

(Men groan)

Come on. You've got him now.

Come on, Pat!

Come on!

Come on, Mr Sharpe, sir.

Go on!

(Gunshot)

Who the devil are you?

Allow me to introduce Comandante Teresa,

the commander ofthe guerrillas
who fight the French here.

And who are you, sir?

I am Major Blas Vivar, Count of Matamoro,

Major General in the Royal Army of His Most
Catholic Majesty, Ferdinand VII, King of Spain.

And you, sir?

Lieutenant Sharpe.

95th Rifles.

Only a lieutenant?

Perhaps they do not promote you
because you fight with your men?

That man is a mutineer, sir.

He'll be taken back to Lisbon and shot.

Tongue, tie him up and take him to the barn.

Spain and England, we are allies.

TERESA: What are you doing here?

Don't tell me a stupid lie about being lost
100 miles behind French lines, Lieutenant.

We're looking for the village of Casa Antigua.

That is all I can tell you.

If you were French, I would take a knife
and you would tell me all I wanted to know.

But we are allies.

Allies? Do allies keep secrets from each other?

Lovers keep secrets from each other,

yet they still make love.

Er...

Perhaps...perhaps we can help each other.

That is what allies are for.

Good.

I'm on my way north to the town of Torrecastro,

carrying important documents from my
government to those who resist the French.

The village of Casa Antigua is on our way north,
so we can travel together...under my command.

I thought she was in command?

Teresa is seeing us safely through the mountains.

Now, I'm the senior officer here.

Do you agree to travel under my command?

Yeah.

OTHER MEN: Yeah.
- I think your men agree.

You ask your men what to do?

Yes. I don't always do it, but I ask.

Don't you?

Or do you just beatthem until they do it?

Agreed.

But only until Casa Antigua.

Good.

We march in an hour. We must hurry.

The French colonel
will send the scouts after us at dawn.

How do you know it's a colonel?
Why not a captain?

Or a major?

Unless you watched us yesterday.

Watched us die and did nothing.

I'm sorry.

So am I.

Now, listen.

I'm in charge here.

Not them, not Harper.

I'm in command.

You follow me.

Speak French, Harris?

Oui, certainement, je parle...

That'll do. I want two boards and some pitch.

Hagman, I want a lantern,
a pound of gunpowder and a pound of old iron.

Cooper, go on sentry.

- And, Perkins...
- Sir?

Dig a proper grave for Captain Murray.

Yes, sir.

- Out!
- That box on the horse.

They never take their eyes off it.

I heard your man telling you
it was full of old documents.

Well, that's not so.

You see, a lot of documents is a lot of paper.

And paper's heavy.

But they lift that box
as if it's as light as a feather...

sir.

Take him out, Tongue.

- What's French for "keep out", Harris?
- Défense d'entrer, sir.

Right. Come with me.

Say a short prayer, Tongue.

Yea...

I say yea.

Yea.

COOPER: French scouts, sir!

About a mile back!

Fall in, Rifles.

French, sir!

Bravo.

Why is that colonel chasing you?

He's chasing you.

A full troop of French cavalry?

A full colonel?

No, they're after you.

Why?

Because of what's in that chest.

Why?

Because that chest is full of papers
and the colonel is a great reader?

That's why?

I don't think you're escorting me.

I think I'm escorting you...

amigos.

Perkins!

Get this old goat moving!

Look alive, boy!

Sir.

Move, you bastards!

Get up!

Saved you for the firing squad, Harper.

Perkins tells me that you were once
a common soldier, a sergeant.

- So I was.
- Strange.

In Spain, an officer must be "ofthe blood".

Un caballero.

Righteous, but charming. A gentleman.

Sorry, wrong house, Miss.

Is that why you have trouble with your men?

Perkins told you that, did he?

Yes. He said you were a proper bastard.

He's right.

You may as well know the rest.

My mother was a whore. I was born in a brothel.

Grew up in an orphanage
and hope to die in the army. Right?

But the boy Perkins says
you saved the life of General Wellesley.

And the Irishman, Harper,

he says that when the English wish
to honour a man of courage,

they call him a proper bastard.

You listen to soldiers' gossip, ma'am.

Yes, I do.

You see,

we have two ears but only one mouth.

So a good leader will listen
twice as much as he shouts.

I beg your pardon, Mr Sharpe.

But she's as dry as a bone.

She sparks every time, she does.

That rifle does you credit, Hagman.

Thank you, Mr Sharpe.

Oil, sir.

The secret is not to spare the oil.

So General Wellesley says.

Aye.

Ow! Damn knee!

Old leg wound, Hagman.

Rain plays the devil with it.

Aye. Brown paper and paraffin oil
is the only cure for a contrary leg.

I has a contrary arm

on account of an argument
with a French hussar...

Oh, bugger it! ..which we had...

..at the Battle of Vimieiro.

And which argument

he lost,

on account of me blowing his head off his neck.

But it do itch fierce of a rainy day.

And I find nothing works so well

as paraffin oil and best brown paper.

- Aye.
- Oh, aye.

♪ Gentle Spanish guitar

She's beautiful, is she not?

Yes.

You never loved a woman?

No.

Not after I paid for it.

So she's like no woman you ever met?

I think you should try to forget her.
Because, you see...

..she's no longer a woman.

She was the best student in Salamanca.

She came home to her father's estate.

She was young and happy and hopeful.

She read books and played music
for her mother and sister,

and laughed while she waited
for some nobleman

to come and ask her hand in marriage.

The French came instead.

She hid and watched all they did.

She saw them blind her father.

She saw them rape her mother and sister Maria
who begged the French to kill them.

They spared her sister

but killed her mother.

At the end, she was raped as well.

When the French were gone,
she buried her mother.

And on her grave,

she made a sacred oath.

Death to the French.

She plays no music now.

Nor reads books. Nor smiles or sings.

But rides the hills

and hunts the French

and hopes to die.

But today...

..I saw her smile.

She smiled at you.

It almost broke my heart.

For that alone, I thank you.

Buenas noches.

(Harper plays a lament)

No, that one's a bit sad.

I'll play a reel for Miss Teresa.

"Salamanca."

- Who goes there?
- Sharpe. 95th, the Rifles.

Advance and be recognised.

Pass, friend.

Stand easy, Cooper.

Can I ask you a question, sir?

Where did you learn to fight so dirty, sir?

Same place as you, Cooper.

Saturday night in the gutters.

Long way from home, sir.

It never was much of a home, Cooper.

No, sir.

That it weren't.

Did you volunteer for this lot, Cooper?

Er, no, not exactly, sir.

I was invited to join

by a magistrate.

♪ Here's adieu to all judges and juries

♪ Justice and Old Bailey, too

♪ For they bound me to King George's army

♪ So adieu to old England

♪ Then it's over the seas that I wander

♪ To stand to the red, white and blue

♪ For they gave me the old King's hard bargain

♪ So adieu to old England

♪ Adieu

Who untied you, Harper?

Miss Teresa, sir.

What have you got there?

Oh, it's just a little wild bird.

Won't it fly away?

No.

It trusts me.

But you're going to put it in a cage.

It's cold.

It knows it'll get some crumbs in a cage.

I thought wild things liked theirfreedom.

Freedom to starve is no freedom, sir.

Is that why you joined the British army, Harper?

Maybe.

Can't be easy to be Irish,
wear the uniform of England.

No harder than it is for yourself, sir,

having to walk into the officers' mess
wearing the uniform of a gentleman.

You fight dirty, Harper.

So do you, sir.

Morning, Miss Teresa.

Good morning. Morning, Lieutenant.

Morning, Miss. Hope you slept well.

I slept safely.

Thank you.

Now, there's a woman worth fighting dirty for, sir.

Do you smell danger?

I smell French cavalry.

Horse sweat and saddle rot.

- They were here.
- Nonsense. Casa Antigua is ahead.

My own people, they would have warned us.

Smoke.

Village on fire!

- My village. Vamos! Vamos!
- No, it could be a trap.

- Is this the only way into the village?
- Yes.

I'll send scouts ahead. Let my men do it.
That's what they're trained for.

- Do as he says, Major.
- Cooper!

Scouts ahead. Lively!

Major, I'll leave you to secure
your precious box and Rifleman Harper.

Teresa, you bring your men with me.

- Miguel, Paco, aquí.
- Los demás, conmigo.

Retira el cofre.

Venga, movete.

Carlo, José!

(Battle cries)

Mierda.

Yargh!

Harris!

You say you are an Irishman, a prisoner.

Why should you be loyal to the British dogs

who want to take you to Lisbon to shoot you?

Jesus, you took the words out of my mouth.

I can help you.

Give me the box.

Right.

Fine.

But what do I get?

You will be rich.

And if I don't?

You will be dead.

Hm. Well, you're having
the best ofthe argument so far.

Who are you? What are you doing here?

I'm George Parker, travelling with
my wife Agatha and my niece Louisa.

We're Methodist missionaries.

Any more of us lot around?

Tell me, Major, why was the colonel trying
to draw you away from the canyon?

- Draw me away?
- Yes. I speak quite good French.

I heard him tell his men to set fire to the village
to draw you away from the canyon.

That chest. You've lost that chest, Major.

I will give you one hundred guineas in gold

and safe passage to America.

America!

That'd be nice.

But you see, the King of England owes me
last month's wages.

There is no way I could rest easy in America
knowing that bastard owed me a shilling.

You would die for a shilling?

That's what I signed on to do.

You will have to do it, then.

It's a grand day for it.

Chapter and verse, Rifleman Harper.

Well, sir, I met this old fella
who was dressed like an undertaker, sir.

There were two other fellas with him
and they asked me to hand over that old box.

So?

We had a bit of a barney, sir.

Rifleman Harper,

you have powder burns on your face.

These are the telltale signs of a half-loaded rifle.

A common mistake,

understandable among raw recruits

who sometimes discharge their ramrod
in the heat of battle,

but unforgivable in a Chosen Man.

- It's called going off at half-cock, Harper!
- Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.

(Horses approaching)

Fall in, Rifleman Harper.

Yes, sir.

Thank you very much, sir.

Wait.

Do you not wish your officer
to give you some high honours?

Oh, but he did.

He told me to fall in.

Lieutenant Sharpe,

I think it better if you now take command.

Get down!

That fella's the dead spit of you, Major.

Something you want to tell me?

And what are your orders?

Open that chest and tell me what's going on.

I'm sorry, not until we reach Torrecastro.

My orders are to meet someone
at Casa Antigua.

But ifthey are not here...

Your fellow countrymen need
your protection to Torrecastro.

Naturally,

as officer commanding, I travel by coach.

Just like a proper officer.

Then it transpired that my poor uncle
had left a small legacy

for the purpose of spreading
the message of Methodism to the Papists.

Ireland was well spread so it had to be Spain.

So here we are,

Mrs Parker and I, sowing the seed.

(Tinderbox lighter strikes)

(Sniffs)

I didn't know Methodists smoked.

Oh, it's for my lungs.

(Speaks Yiddish)

(She chokes and coughs)

(She replies in Yiddish)

(Louisa coughs)

Sorry.

Sorry, I can't.

Not yet.

Sorry.

(Monks chanting in distance)

Gloria patri

et filio et spiritui sancto.

Sicut erat in principio

et nunc et semper

et in saecula saecularum.

Amen.

Deus, adjutorium meum intende.

Domine, ad adjuvandum me festina.

Gloria patri et filio et spiritui sancto.

Amen.

Sicut erat in principio et nunc et semper

et in saecula saecularum.

Amen.

Rifles!

Load.

Now I know why theyjoin for life, Cooper.

(Silence)

A meal in a monastery is a bit erm...

Papist for my Methodist tastes, dear Major.

MAJOR: The abbot is a Cistercian,
but civilised for all that.

A toast.

Death to the French!

ALL: Death to the French!

(Major laughs)

Why do you not drink?

I never liked that toast, Major.

I am a soldier, not an assassin.

Another toast, then.

A safe journey to Torrecastro.

MAJOR: Torrecastro!

LOUISA: Torrecastro!

Will you not laugh
if I tell you a story about Torrecastro,

- dear Miss Parker?
- I love stories.

You have the soul of a Spaniard.

(Clears throat) Excuse me.

Duty calls. I must see to the sentries.

Excuse me, ladies.

♪ When will you pay me

♪ Says the bells of Old Bailey

♪ When I grow rich

♪ Says the bells of Shoreditch

♪ When will the... Oi, blimey!
- Ssh!

Is that you in the dress, sir? Nice.

- Give me your picklock, Cooper.
- Picklock, sir? Catch me with a picklock?

They did. But when you got out
of Newgate prison, you got another set.

- That's the one the officer wants.
- Come on!

Do I get it back, sir?

Trust me.

It's very hard to trust a man
who wants to borrow your picklock, sir.

(Door creaks)

So...

You could not wait until Torrecastro.

Very well, you shall hear the story.

Athousand years ago,

the Muslims swept across Spain
on theirwayto Rome.

My ancestors made a stand in these mountains
at a hard rock we call Torrecastro.

They were many. We were few.

We died hard.

At sunset, my ancestor dying,

called on Sant'Iago, St James,
the saint of Spain.

Sant'Iago came.
He came with a banner of blood

and a bright sword,
and he slew the invaders in their thousands.

And we dipped his banner in the blood
and cried out, "Sant'lago!

Child ofthunder! Child of battle!"

The gonfalon.

The banner of blood,

kept in my family for a thousand years,

lest we needed Sant'Iago to keep his promise.

What promise, Major?

His promise that he would come again
if Spain were invaded,

as soon as we raise his banner
over the chapel ofTorrecastro.

Get to the point, Major.

There's only a small French garrison
in Torrecastro.

The people ofthe town know the legend,

secretly believe it.

As soon as we raise the banner
over the little chapel,

the people will rise up
against the French invader.

Rise up? For a rag on a pole?

Are you mad, Major?

No, it's a legend, Mr Sharpe.

And the people believe in it.

As soon as the gonfalon is unfurled,

Sant'Iago will surely come with fire and sword.

But it takes time to raise the banner.
And before it is unfurled...

The French will come with the sabre.

Exactly.

That's why we need you.

Will you help us fight offthe French
long enough to raise the banner?

You lied to us, Major.

And you, Miss.

You picked us up and we marched with you,

fought for you.

And for what?

For a stupid superstition.

For a...for a rag in a bag.

Not a rag, but the last flag of Spain.

Be damned to you and your rag, sir.

My Rifles march at dawn.

South, sir.

Good night, Miss.

Lieutenant Sharpe!

Surprised to see me, Richard?

Oh, you've done a grand job, a grand job.

But now, at dawn tomorrow,

with the help of my agent,

Comandante Teresa,
whom I believe you've already met,

I want you to seize the chapel of Torrecastro
and hold it against all-comers

until Major Vivar has raised
the gonfalon of Sant'Iago

over the chapel roof.

Seize Torrecastro?

With six men and a straggle of Spaniards?

It can't be done.

May I remind you of our main mission, sir?

- To find a missing gentleman.
- Not now, Richard.

Our mission is Torrecastro.

Spain is a sleeping tiger.

Ifthe people of Torrecastro rise up,
even for an hour,

the shock will shake the whole of Spain.

- Carry on, sir.
- Rise up?

Do you really believe men will fight and die
for a rag on a pole, sir?

You do, Richard.

You do.

Richard! I knew you would not march
to Torrecastro for a superstition.

I'm like you. I don't believe in virgins
or holy candles, but I believe in Spain.

I had to choose
between Spain and Richard Sharpe.

- I had no choice!
- You did your duty.

Now I must do mine.

Keep him safe and I will light a candle
in Torrecastro, Holy Mother.

Why didn't you tell him before?

His burden is great enough.

Besides,

it would ruin his voyage of discovery.

COOPER: Prime the pan, close the steel,
butt to the ground.

Charge the barrel, spitthe ball.

Pop it in with your thumb.

Draw the ramrod, ram it home.

Put it back in its hole.

Bring her back and she's readyto fire.

- You wanted to see me, sir?
- Yeah, er...

Teresa has a plan

that might improve the odds in ourfavour.

I'd like to know what you think, let you decide.

Tell me.

Torrecastro has strong defences.

We can't attack from the outside.

But there must be a way in.

I will go on ahead. As a Spaniard, I can find it.

No! I forbid it.

Easy, dear boy.

Easy. I said I'd let you decide,

have the last word.

Oh, forget it.

He forbids it.

Who does he think he is?

Who does he think I am?

(Harper plays plaintive tune)

Evening, Sergeant Harper.

- You want to make me sergeant, sir?
- Get a needle and thread.

I need a sergeant by dawn.

I'll never make a proper sergeant, sir.

So? I'll never make a proper officer.

Indeed you will, sir.
You'll make a grand killing officer.

Killing officer?

God love you, sir.
I thought you would have known.

There are two kinds of officers, sir.

Killing officers

and murdering officers.

Killing officers are poor old buggers
who get you killed by mistake.

Murdering officers are mad, bad old buggers
who get you killed on purpose.

For a reason, for a country, for a religion.

Maybe even for a flag.

You see that Major Hogan, sir?

That's what I'd call a murdering officer.

Teresa!

Oh, that Hogan.

He's a murdering officer, all right.

Damn it, Hogan! I wish I were down there.

So do I.

So do I. But our first duty
is to protect Mrs Parker.

That's my girl, Teresa.

Mmmm! Rica, huh?

Tengo otra muy buena para ti.

(French battle cry)

Jesus!

No!

(Silence)

Mr Sharpe, sir.

Lieutenant Sharpe.

95th Rifles.

Colonel De L'Eclin.

I have the honour
to command the garrison in this town.

May I present His Excellency,

the Count of Matamoro.

You know my brother. Major Blas Vivar.

I have the honour of knowing the Count.

The title of Count is in dispute between us,

as, of course, is Spain itself.

Why?

You're a Spaniard.

Why do you fight against your country
and your brother?

Politics. I am what is called afrancesado -

- one who supports France.
- Why?

Bonaparte brings the light of reason.

There are two Spains, Lieutenant.

My brother's Spain is a monastery -
silence and superstition.

My Spain is a court - science and scholarship.

If you were Spanish,
which would you choose, Lieutenant?

I am neither monk nor prince.

So I would choose a tavern.

You have 30 minutes to surrender.

I suggest you surrender your sword

and order your men to lay down their muskets.

We don't use muskets.

We use rifles.

My men are all crack shots.

We call them Chosen Men.

They never miss.

I will stop you raising the banner,

but many men will die for a superstition.

Ten minutes, gentlemen.

Ten minutes.

Hagman.

(Galloping hooves)

(Battle cries)

Perkins!

(Choir sings)

Cheeky bastard!

- Which one, Cooper?
- Left, three o'clock.

That'll teach him.

Sant'Iago, saint of Spain,

stand with the Chosen Men.

Sant'Iago!

(Cheering)

- That's my boy!
- Ha, ha, ha!

(Cheering)

St James!

ALL: St James!

De L'Eclin.

No shooting! He's mine!

(Gunshot)

Who fired that?

Me, sir.

Give him yours, Harper.

Chosen Man, Perkins.

Take a tip, Perkins.

Give it back.

Under Major Hogan's orders, I held Torrecastro
long enough to effect an uprising.

I deemed my duty done

and thought it prudent to return
to await further orders, sir.

You did damn well, Sharpe.

Napoleon will be in a fearful rage
about Torrecastro.

Heads will roll.

Morale will suffer. Which is all to the good.

Because next month, I mean to cross into Spain
and give Marshal Victor a damn good thrashing.

Pity about James Rothschild.
I presume he's left the country?

On the contrary, sir.

He's here in this room, sir.

Your banker's draft, Sir Arthur.

How did you know?

You smelt of Turkish tobacco -
a kind you can't get in Spain.

You didn't touch your pork at the monastery.

And remember speaking Yiddish in the coach?

Sir, you are an edel mensh.

A gentleman.

Did you know about that banner, sir?

Well, I knew you'd risk your life
for the army's wages,

but I couldn't count on superstition.

Time to go.

Hasta otra, Richard.

No.

Sir Arthur's pleased as punch.

So you say, sir.

Say, is it? And don't I have your promotion
for first lieutenant in my pocket.

Wellesley's going to take the army into Spain.

It'll be bugles, battles and bags of glory.

Stick with me, Richard. I'll see you right.

You'll see me dead, sir.

That's my boy!