Original subtitles

Your Majesty.

Tell me your plan, Major Ducos.

For the price of one death and one imprisonment,

Britain will leave Spain with no more shots being fired.

The deposed Spanish King Ferdinand

will sign a treaty which ends the war between France and Spain.

We will withdraw, and Ferdinand will once again rule Spain.

In return, King Ferdinand will promise to end the alliance with Britain,

and the British army will be ordered to leave Spain.

Joseph likes being King of Spain.

I am sure Your Majesty's brother

would make a wise king wherever he is.

The Spanish people will continue to fight.

Only their beloved King Ferdinand could make them accept the treaty.

But he wants reassurance.

Will the nobility of Spain support him?

Will the Spanish generals?

And most important of all, what will the Church say?

And what will the Church say?

It will approve, Your Majesty.

It's very clever, Major Ducos.

Worthy of admiration.

- I should have thought of it. - But you did.

I'm merely taking the idea a little further.

But, Ducos,

what do you get?

Revenge.

On whom?

A British officer.

Major Richard Sharpe.

He has luck, this Sharpe?

At Talavera, Your Majesty,

he captured an imperial eagle touched by your own hand.

See that his luck runs out.

We've got them running, Nairn.

We're going to chase them out of Spain into France, and drown them in the Channel.

Pity of it is, we can't stop the scum looting and destroying everything as they go.

Napoleon's got his troubles in Russia, sir.

They need all the money they can get.

- How are the men's spirits? - They're dying for the fray, sir.

And Sharpe?

He is not the same man, sir.

The loss of his wife...

Grief...well...

takes men in different ways, sir.

I've got one for you.

Where does Napoleon keep his armies?

I don't know, Perkins. Where does Napoleon keep his armies?

Up his sleevies! (Laughs)

- Drunk again, Harper. - Oh, me too, sir.

(Laughter)

Blimey. He looks as grim as an Old Baileyjudge.

HARRIS: He's still blaming himself.

COOPER: Guilt and grief.

SERGEANT MAJOR: Company, dis...missed!

Ifthere's anything I can do for you, sir,

you know you only have to ask.

I know that, Pat.

How's Ramona?

Oh, she's grand, thanks, sir.

Mr Nairn got us permission to get married.

That's good.

Aye. Well, you know...

I like her an awful lot, sir, and...

..what with the wee one on the way, I suppose Mr Nairn thought it would be best.

- So, when's the wedding? - As soon as I can find a priest.

She's got herself a wedding dress, so she has.

It's got frills.

Ah, you know what women are like, sir.

Aye. I've known one or two, Pat.

Mm.

Well, I'll tell you one thing.

They like marrying, so they do.

- Especially when they're pregnant. - (Chuckles)

Go to her, Pat.

- She needs you. - (Ramona singing)

♪ And I never will play the wild rover no more

♪ Wild rover, wild rover

♪ Wild rover no more

♪ And I never will play

♪ The wild rover no more

- Eat, Patrick. - Well, how's he doing?

Young Patrick, how's he doing, then?

- He might be a girl, huh? - Well, I can tell you,

as long as it's one or the other, I don't mind.

¿Cómo está usted, sargento?

Bien. Gracias. ¿Y usted?

- Encantada de conocerle. - What does that mean?

I am pleased to know you.

I'm pleased to know you, too.

Do you know, the old soup isn't too bad, either.

HARPER: The sooner we march on the French now, the better.

He needs a good battle.

He needs a good woman.

Well, he had one.

But he lost her.

He went and lost her, so he did.

Faster! Faster!

We have to go faster! My husband will know by now that I've fled.

Please don't worry, Hélène. My men are guarding you. We will get you there.

We have to.

I built my whole life towards this, General.

Oh, call me Raoul, please.

I will get you to Paris. Trust me.

You are so beautiful.

And you are so brave.

Oh, if only you would say yes to living with me in Paris, you would make me so very happy.

But, Raoul, you already have a wife.

Ah, oui, but she's old and ugly. And you make me feel...

- 60 again. - (They laugh)

You have a wicked tongue.

But then again, so do I.

(Neighing)

I apologise for the interruption, General,

- but I have orders from the Emperor. - For me?

For the Marquesa.

How do you do, Hélène?

So, you're running away, Marquesa?

Like the rest ofthe French army.

They have fought for their country.

Unlike you.

Oh, Pierre, my life was in danger every day.

It still is.

Your convoy is loaded with gold and silver plate,

paintings, coins, statues,

tapestries, carvings,

and a wine cellar packed in sawdust.

The total value is um... one million Spanish doubloons.

You've missed the furniture.

There's a mirrored bed.

Oh.

Is that the one in which you persuade the General to guard your stolen property?

- (Laughs) - He's a fool.

That makes two of you.

Don't mock me, Hélène.

I can destroy you.

I despise your kind, Marquesa.

You're half-English, and yet you work for us.

I'm half-French.

You married a Spaniard,

and while your husband fights

- for his country, you steal his property. - I fight for France!

You fight for yourself!

You have no shame.

No country.

You disgust me.

What a pity,

when I find you so attractive.

You've had it easy in this war, Hélène.

Fluttering your eyelashes

and living in Spanish splendour

with your dear husband the Marqués.

I married him at Napoleon's request.

Do you think I enjoyed having him grunt all over me while I stole information for people like you?

I never considered it.

But then you've never had sex.

What do you want, Pierre?

You will write a letter.

I don't take orders from you.

They don't come from me. They come from the highest authority.

You will write a letter, telling your husband the reason you have fled

is that an English officer, Major Richard Sharpe,

has forced his intentions on you,

and while drunk,

he tried to attack you.

I've never met this Sharpe.

Write the letter.

Your property is loaded on French army wagons.

- Condemned ones. - I can countermand the condemnation.

Write.

Buenas tardes, Señor Marqués.

Whatever we make the chief object of our desires

will draw our minds and endeavours after it.

He who places his greatest happiness in the world

will every day become

more worldly.

For the world, he will plod and sweat.

He will

descend into what is low and unbecoming.

And will often be tempted

to what is not truly fair and just.

Eternal life

can only be given by Jesus Christ,

whose capacity to confer it

the Father hath sealed

and certified. Amen.

The blessing of God Almighty,

the Father, the Son

and the Holy Ghost,

be amongst you

and remain with you always.

Amen.

SERGEANT MAJOR: Company,

dis...missed!

Are you Sharpe?

- Who are you? - Are you Sharpe?

I'll tan your arse if you don't learn some manners.

I am Major Mendora.

My name is Sharpe.

Easy.

- Easy, easy. - That was from my master,

the Marqués de Casares el Grande.

My master's wife, the Marquesa,

has written to him telling of your brutish behaviour.

Of your cowardly attack on her.

I've never met her.

You have caused grave offence!

So have you, mate.

There is a clearing in the woods,

at the south road. Seven this evening.

What was all that about?

God knows.

You gave your word that I could leave.

But I'm keeping it, Marquesa.

These are condemned wagons.

I couldn't let you meet with an accident on the way.

So, Napoleon's made you his wagon master.

Congratulations, Pierre.

Listen, you want to have a good think about this.

IfWellington finds out, you're done for.

You know what he says. Duels are forbidden. Huh?

How well did you get to know this Marquesa, anyhow?

- Don't you start! - No, sir.

I'll kill the Marqués.

And when I find his bloody Marquesa, I'll kill her.

- Of course you will, sir. - What does he want?

Major Sharpe, sir.

Captain.

I trust you're not going ahead with this duel, sir.

The sight of Spanish blood upset you, does it?

I've been speaking with some ofthe Spanish officers.

The Marqués is a very fine swordsman.

He's been taking lessons in Paris from Bouillet.

Well, he can take lessons in Spain from me.

- No further. - You must have a second.

I'll bear responsibility alone for this before Wellington.

He'll try and get

the sun in your eyes. He'll feint right and thrust left.

Make your feint your attack, sir.

Just knock the shite out of him, sir.

Good luck.

You have one more chance, Major Sharpe.

Apologise and resign.

I have nothing to apologise for.

MENDORA: Very well...

the duel ends in a death.

MENDORA: ¿Estáis listo, mi señor?

Major Sharpe?

Argh!

I wouldn't smile yet, if I were you.

You fat bastard.

They won't find a coffin to fit you.

We've played by your rules.

Now we'll play by mine.

(Groans)

- I bet you never saw that in a duel. - This is not a duel, it's a brawl!

(Gunshot) - Major Sharpe!

What the hell do you think you're doing?

A matter of honour, sir.

Honour?!

The duel is not over.

Listen to me. There is no duel.

There was no duel.

This is a friendly sword practice.

Do you understand me?

Major Sharpe.

Dios...

(Snores)

Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata,

miserere nobis.

Agnus Dei,

qui tollis peccata,

- miserere nobis. - (Groans)

You're under arrest, Major Sharpe.

What?!

Stand back.

Hand me your sword, Major Sharpe.

Major Sharpe, you are charged with the murder

ofthe Marqués de Casares el Grande.

I've been sleeping all night.

How did he die?

Throat slit

from ear to ear as he slept.

SHARPE: I didn't kill him.

I swear, sir, on my honour.

You're under arrest, Major Sharpe.

If I don't get you under lock and key,

the Spanish will hang you.

Prisoner and escort, forward!

Forward...march!

RAOUL: Au revoir.

- I will see you in Paris. - Goodbye, Raoul.

Come soon.

HORSEMAN: Hay-ya!

But you always do.

I appreciate the feelings of our Spanish allies,

but I have to tell you that Major Sharpe is innocent until proved guilty.

We have no intention of handing him over to you. There will be a court martial.

Evidence will be heard, and then, and only then,

will judgment be passed.

Do I make myself clear?

(Clicks heels)

Did he do it, Nairn?

He swears he did not, sir.

And I believe him.

He fought a duel, defying my orders. He lied about that.

He says he's never met the Marquesa.

Then why does the lady accuse him?

Apparently, she wrote a tearful letter to her now-deceased husband, God rest his soul,

telling him of Sharpe's vile indiscretions.

That letter was delivered by the good Father Hacha.

- The Inquisitor? - The very one, sir.

He has the ear ofthe Cardinal and the heart of a snake.

DUCOS: And how is Major Sharpe?

He's on trial for the murder ofthe Marqués.

The whole army is outraged.

What a beautiful day.

Now you pay us.

The Marqués, as your brother will tell you,

had a clause in his will

that's not uncommon -

that if his widow takes her vows as a nun,

all his wealth reverts to the Church.

And you, Father Hacha,

as God's representative in this area,

will take the inheritance.

The Marquesa left in a convoy not two hours ago.

The money is with her.

- We will kill her. - No!

It must remain legal.

I need some letters, Father Hacha,

from the Spanish nobility,

assuring your King Ferdinand

that a peace with France will be acceptable.

I am sure that will not be a difficulty.

Your troops

will leave us alone?

You have my word.

And you have mine.

If Sharpe is found not guilty, the Spanish will never believe us or trust us again.

They wantjustice.

I think they should get it, sir.

Whatever the verdict.

Major Sharpe?

Lieutenant Trumper Jones, sir. Your defending officer.

Been here long, have you?

Two months, sir. (Chuckles)

Have you done this before?

(Laughs nervously)

Could you tell us what the letter says, Major Mendora?

In English, if you please.

My dear Pablo,

what I have to tell you pains my heart,

and will wound you deeply.

I have fled because ofthe unwelcome attentions of Major Richard Sharpe.

He has pestered me at every opportunity with shameful suggestions

and indecent invitations.

I have to tell you that, further to this,

on the night ofthe 16th ofApril,

Major Sharpe appeared at our home

in a state of drunkenness.

He forced his way into our house

and begged me to sleep with him...

- I've never met the woman! - Major Sharpe.

I will have silence

in this court. Is that clear?

Go on, please,

Major Mendora.

He said that there was only one woman in the world for him,

and that was me.

And if he had to kill you to have me,

then so be it.

Thank you, Major Mendora.

Could you tell the court, please,

what happened after the Marqués received the letter?

Major Sharpe refused to apologise, so there was a duel.

And this duel came to an abrupt end,

did it not?

It was stopped, yes. But Major Sharpe

- was roaring at this time. - Roaring?

He was cursing,

and vowing that he would kill the Marqués.

In a duel? Thank you, Major Mendora.

Mr Trumper Jones.

Major...

(Clears throat)

Major Mendora,

you have a vested interest in seeing Major Sharpe hang, have you not?

No.

You were gravely insulted by Major Sharpe before this...

..sword practice.

Objection, sir. It was a duel.

A duel forbidden by Lord Wellington.

Mr Trumper Jones, you will refer to the duel as the duel.

Is that clear?

Yes, sir. (Clears throat)

Major Mendora,

did Major Sharpe not insult your manhood when he threatened to tan your arse?

I did not hear that.

- You're a liar! - Major Sharpe!

Major Sharpe!

Gentleman you may not be, but you will behave like one in this court. Is that clear?

Sir.

- Please, sir. - Where's Nairn? Where the hell is he?

I don't know.

We've heard from the Spanish guard at the Marqués' quarters

that he saw a British rifle officer with a straight sword

leave there at three o'clock this morning. Can you explain that?

I slept right through till dawn, sir.

- But you have no witnesses to swear to that? - I did not kill him.

So you keep telling us, Major Sharpe.

You also keep telling us that you have never met the Marquesa,

yet here we have a letter from her to her husband,

a nobleman of Spain, detailing vile and repellent

advances by you on her.

Perhaps you could tell us

- why she would say this. - I don't know!

She's lying!

(Sighs)

(Neighing)

Venga. Por aquí.

(Screams)

(Laughs)

MARQUESA: No! No!

Vamos. Allí está.

Your husband is dead, Marquesa.

I'd find it hard to tell the difference.

You are an adulteress and a murderer.

And I have come to save you from your sins.

You've come to help yourself, priest!

- (Chuckles) - No!

No!

(Groans)

In the Convent ofthe Heavens,

you will find peace.

Hay-ya!

We find you guilty of murder, Sharpe.

You have brought dishonour upon your regiment and the British army.

You are hereby stripped of your rank.

You will be escorted from here

to a place of execution,

and in the presence of our allies, you will be hanged by the neck

until dead.

Have you anything to say?

Permission to die in my rifleman's jacket, sir?

Denied.

(Hammering)

(Hammering continues)

Perkins, Hagman, kill anyone who tries to stop us.

BOTH: Sarge. - Let's go.

You will stay exactly where you are!

Says who? Sir.

Wellington.

(Footsteps)

(Slow drumming)

(Drumming continues)

Should I serve sherry to the Spanish officers, sir?

Damn it, Stokely, it's an execution, not a bloody christening!

Sir.

- España! - (Crowd cheers)

- A la horca! - Lo tiene merecido!

(Crowd shouting)

(Drumming continues)

(Drumming stops)

(Cheering)

Now that is over, gentlemen, perhaps we can get on with this war.

It's a damn waste, Harper.

It was damn murder, sir.

(Whispers) Sergeant!

(Whispers) Patrick. Patrick!

Shh!

- Sergeant! Sergeant Harper! - Sir.

Come with me. I have a job for you. Put these on.

Say your farewells.

And hurry up!

(Whispers) You mind yourself, now.

And him.

I love you an awful lot.

Could I ask you where we're going, sir?

Over the hills, Sergeant, and far away.

Which hills, and how far?

NAIRN: Questions, questions. It's all questions and mostly no answers.

Get your stinking robbing hands off me!

God will strike you down, you'll see,

with the plague. More likely the pox.

Thieves! Thieves! Bloody thieves!

Let me out of here!

(Sighs)

(Bird squawking)

When this war's over,

will you go back home, Sergeant?

If I'm alive, me, Ramona and the baby will head home.

If I'm dead,

and they bury me here,

my spirit'll soar straight back to Ireland.

So you believe in ghosts, do you, Sergeant?

I believe in God the Father,

God the Son,

and the shee riding the wind.

(Chuckles)

(Horse neighs)

(Cocks rifle)

Here's a ghost for you, Sergeant Harper.

His name was Liam Dooley.

He and his brother were going to be hanged for looting a church.

I made them an offer.

One could live, but one would die.

Liam called "heads".

It was a very bad call.

Who knows I'm alive?

Us, Wellington, the provosts who hung Dooley,

and they're sworn to secrecy.

Why all the shenanigans, sir?

The French are running away. The bastards haven't got the stomach for any more.

They're using every dirty trick they can to drive a wedge between us and the Spanish.

That's why we must find out what they're up to and stop them.

Who's "we"?

You and Sergeant Harper, of course.

You will go into enemy territory, find the Marquesa, and bring her to me.

- I'll bloody kill her! - You will not, and that's an order.

She knows the answer to the er...

shenanigans.

So why did she write the letter?

She's a French spy. Her mother was English, her father was a Frenchy.

She married the Marqués probably on the orders

- of Napoleon himself. - I'm a soldier.

I'm for fighting, not spying.

You'll do as you're told, Sharpe.

Oh, yes. You'll need this.

Now, listen to me.

There's a priest not 20 miles from here. Father Sanchez. He's a good man.

Hears things on the wind. Speak to him.

Well, that's a start.

Go carefully. Remember you're dead.

What ifwe don't find the Marquesa?

Don't come back.

Good luck.

Gracias.

Permission to leave the column and speak, sir?

Carry on.

Where's Sergeant Harper, sir?

Sergeant Harper is doing a job for me.

Look after his woman until he returns, Hagman.

We will, sir.

We stick together, you see.

Ramona is part of us. Just like Major Sharpe was.

Permission to rejoin

the column, sir?

Carry on.

Para, por favor!

Shite!

- Are you all right? - I've been happier.

(Gunshots)

- Is he alive? - Just.

Bastards.

It's four against two.

- Good odds. - There'll be more in a minute.

You stay here.

(Whistles)

(Yells)

(Groans)

Marquesa de Casares.

We must find the Marquesa. You understand?

Marquesa...Dorada?

(Whispers) Golden-haired. She's golden-haired.

Where is she?

The Marquesa?

El Matarife.

Hermano Hacha. Hermano.

Where is she?

Marquesa Dorada?

Partisanos...el convento.

Partisans?

¿Dónde? ¿Dónde?

Santa...

Monica.

Come on.

(Gunshots)

(Bell rings)

Thank you, Father.

- Support is growing. - Every hour.

The Spanish nobles are desperate to help.

When King Ferdinand returns,

perhaps the Inquisition will return, too.

I pray for it.

HARPER: That's the convent up there.

SHARPE: Aye.

SHARPE: The partisans will see us soon enough.

HARPER: I think they have already.

Vamos. Defiéndete, cobarde!

(Cheering)

Yah!

(Cheering continues)

(Rifles cocked)

I am a British officer. Major Vaughan.

I bring the compliments of my General Wellington.

He has heard of me?

Who has not heard of El Matarife?

Great guess, sir.

You hate the French, Major Vaughan?

I fight them every day.

You should see how I fight them. Huh?

(Cheering)

I don't think I want to see this.

(Shouts of encouragement)

Bastards.

(Shouts of encouragement)

(Cocks rifle)

(Gunshot)

(Rifles cocked)

Now I can boast I fought against the French...

..alongside the great Matarife.

You hear him?

He says

he has fought beside me.

Wellington needs your help.

(Rifles disarmed)

The British army is advancing and pushing the French back on the Great Road.

I have come here because the General wants an assurance that every partisan will be on hand

to harass the retreating French and kill them.

Every partisan.

- But especially El Matarife. - (Grunts)

You can tell the General

my forces will help him.

There is one other thing Wellington seeks.

You guard the Marquesa Dorada?

- Wellington asks this? - We er...

heard she'd been brought here.

- Where did you hear? - Everything El Matarife does is important to us.

- Hmm. - But we would like to talk to her.

She knows things about the French army that could be of help to us.

You wish to talk with her?

I do.

Maybe more than talk, eh?

She's in the convent up there?

No, she's here.

You can talk with her. Come.

Come.

You had orders to watch her!

Sorry, señor. This man will be punished.

Castígale!

Ah, good luck, my friends.

Whoever she was, she died for no reason.

Whoever?

The Marquesa has golden hair.

That poor dead girl's hair was black.

Marquesa Dorada.

Some poor serving girl.

Another soul who didn't need to die.

(Groaning)

I hope you are well.

I hope you are in excruciating pain.

Father Hacha has told me

- of your deep desire to repent... - I haven't sinned enough yet.

..and embrace the faith.

I'd love to join your happy band, Sister, but you'd need to get a better dressmaker.

God hears your wicked tongue.

He sees your thieving,

you viperous virgin!

I fear you have a long road to travel

before you can place your heart in the hands ofthe Creator.

But...we have time.

(Squeals)

(Bells chime in distance)

Take the horses and wait down there, Pat.

HARPER: Good luck.

Matarife! Matarife! El inglés!

Que ha subido allí arriba al convento.

I have come to see la Marquesa de Casares el Grande.

She is not here.

I have travelled far to see her.

Who are you?

- Major Vaughan. - It is against God's law to see her.

- I'm sure God will forgive me. - You cannot see her.

Go away!

Go away! Go away!

(Rings bell) - Leave!

- Marquesa! (Continuous bell-ringing)

Marquesa!

Oh, shite.

Marquesa!

- Marquesa! - Detenedle.

Marquesa!

(Stifled shout)

(Nuns yell in Spanish)

Fuera!

(Yells)

Did Raoul send you?

Come on, sir.

- Stop! - Too late, Sister!

I'm offto commit adultery!

Lots of it!

A little bit of a wee problem, sir.

HARPER: Nothing we can't handle, though.

(Yells)

(Neighing)

Come on!

- (Gees up horses) - (Neighing)

HARPER: Are you all right? SHARPE: Aye.

HARPER: I think we should stop. SHARPE: Later. Go on.

(Marquesa screams)

Lose the horses!

Bloody horses! I never want to see a bloody horse again! Bloody...

- Shut up! - You won't make it on foot.

We won't make it on horseback, either. Lose the horses, they'll follow the trail.

MARQUESA: My bloody hair!

Shut up!

Go on!

- Go on! Go on! (Neighing)

MARQUESA: Oh, God!

Where are we going?

- I said, where are we going? - Shut up!

Lean on me.

Sit on your arse...before I tan it.

Like you tanned the nuns' arses?

You didn't, did you?

He wouldn't hit them.

- They're good people. - Dear God! They're thieves and liars!

You were in good company, then. Bet you were sorry to leave.

- Is the bullet still in it? - No, it sliced me.

You saved my life.

You tried to end mine.

I've never met you.

Oh, did you hear that, Pat?

- She's never met me. - It's still bleeding, sir.

HARPER: Don't move. SHARPE: What about

my shameful suggestions?

- Your what? - Oh, she's denying me now, Pat.

- After all we've been through. Ow! - I hear her, sir.

You'd think she'd remember the man who got down on his knees - drunk, mind -

and crawled on her floor, begging Her Ladyship to sleep with him. Bugger!

- I'd remember him. - Aye,

so would I.

The man lost his honour because ofthe lady's lies.

Stripped of his rank, hung on a rope.

Who are you?

You know who I am.

My name is Sharpe.

The stink ofthat hole is all over me.

Good.

I want this off. It's got fleas.

Poor buggers have got you.

Please, I ask you.

Go on.

You'll have to help me.

Go on, then.

God save Ireland.

Oh, it's very cold weather for the time ofthe year.

The nights are drawing in.

Give me that.

Thank you.

SHARPE: You steal this? - It's mine.

And I've got more than you've ever dreamed of.

In the wagons they took from me. Matarife and his brother.

Who's his brother?

Hacha, the Inquisitor.

Hermano.

Do you remember the old priest tried to tell us?

You stole it.

For God's sake! It's mine. Ducos tried to take it from me.

SHARPE: Major Ducos? - You know him?

We have met.

He made me write the letter.

- Where is he? - Santa Maria.

Give me a hand up.

That wasn't a very polite move, now, ma'am.

Hup!

- Do you want the partisans to have you? - Don't be stupid!

Bloody French on one side, a madman on the other,

and we're stuck here with a woman who had me hung.

God does work in mysterious ways.

Cabrones.

(Neighing)

He needs help.

Do you have a woman, Sharpe?

I did.

Did you leave her behind?

She died.

I'm sorry.

(Groaning)

- Argh! - Ramona.

- I'll get one ofthe women. - Nay. There's no time.

(Groaning continues)

You shouldn't hate me.

You're a spy.

I'm a soldier, Sharpe.

I can't carry a rifle, so I use what I've got.

Besides,

what's a poor girl to do to get on in the world?

You're not poor.

What do you dream of, Sharpe?

Going home.

Me an' all.

(Gasps)

- She has to be on her back. - (Groans)

Déjame! Estúpido!

But she doesn't want to be.

- She must be lying on her back. - Who says?

- A bloody doctor, that's who! - Help me!

No se que hago.

(Groans)

(Chuckles) See? Francis.

(Whimpering)

- Francis? - Huh?

Blankets.

Blankets?

Oh, yes, then. Blankets. Blankets.

- (Groans) - Have you done this before?

Not with human childs,

no.

(Cocks rifle)

I think I'll take a wee look.

I have been poor, Sharpe.

I'm crying.

And I've dreamt all my life of a house on the Seine.

Good wine and handsome men.

I haven't always been a lady.

Oh. You surprise me.

(Chuckles)

Who killed the Marqués?

The priest or his brother.

But Ducos...Ducos is the one. Ducos has no...

Honour.

You're a strange man, Sharpe.

You speak of honour.

You wouldn't hit the nuns.

You can't be bought.

You don't like me.

I've never met a man like you.

(Shivers)

You're cold.

I'm scared.

So am I.

I don't believe you.

Good.

I didn't say I didn't like you.

(Groaning)

What the devil's going on here?

We're delivering a baby, sir.

What?!

- (Groaning) - Go on, you're nearly there.

Right. Carry on.

Go on, we're with you! Go on!

- Go on! - (Groans)

You've done it! You've done it!

(Ramona sighs)

It's a little boy.

Come and have a look. Look here. Look.

Look! Eh?

Look.

(Gurgles)

Give thanks unto the Lord

for he is good.

ALL: Because his mercy endureth for ever.

Bless this child,

for he is a gift upon the earth.

Wash away his tears.

Sweeten his sorrow.

Amen.

OTHERS: Amen.

(Gurgling)

(Cries)

(Cocks rifle) - Oh. I have to attend a call of nature.

- I'll escort you. - Is that strictly necessary?

I'm afraid it is, ma'am.

Bloody freezing!

Must be the weather, ma'am.

Lève-toi, bon sang!

Raoul.

Go, Sergeant Harper.

You can't help Sharpe.

Take your chance.

Go.

Raoul!

Raoul.

The partisans took the wagons and locked me in the convent.

This man

freed me.

Raoul, we must find Hacha.

You are alone?

Yes, he is.

You are a brave man. Who are you?

My name is Major Vaughan.

I am a British officer.

You wanted the Marquesa's wagons?

I did.

We take the Marquesa home and you prisoner.

You could let me go, sir.

I cannot do that.

But I will make you an offer.

You give me your word you will make no attempt to escape,

and you will be treated with the respect due to your rank.

And if I don't, sir?

You will be taken under armed escort to Santa Maria.

I promise you nothing of your treatment there.

Major Ducos is in charge of prisoners at Santa Maria.

Give him your word, Vaughan.

He will set you free

in France.

A house on the Seine.

A life of a gentleman.

But no honour, Hélène.

I cannot give you my word, sir.

Tant pis. Emmenez-le!

Votre garde! Surveillez à ton mec.

(Distant French chatter)

Par ici. Dépêchez-vous.

Sharpe.

- (Groans) - (Laughs)

(Door locks)

NAIRN: Sergeant Harper coming, sir.

Trouble?

It could be, sir.

Sharpe?

Could be, sir.

Fix it, then.

When we fight the French, I want nothing, and I mean nothing, to impede us.

- Did you get the Marquesa? - Oh, we got her all right, sir.

But the French got us. She got away.

- Where's Sharpe? - The French have him at Santa Maria.

Do they know it's Sharpe?

- Actually, they think he's Major Vaughan, sir. - Vaughan? The military prosecutor?

- The very man. - Did he interrogate her?

Oh, he was at her all night, sir.

But did he find the answers?

Well, it appears Father Hacha and El Matarife kidnapped the Marquesa

and forced her to write the letter.

But the man with all the answers is Major Ducos.

Ducos. Huh. Where is he, Sergeant?

Well, he's at Santa Maria too, sir. In charge of Sharpe.

- He'll kill him, Sergeant. - I'm going to get him out, sir.

- You can't do that. - Why not? With respect, sir.

- The British army needs every man it has. - The British army needs a lot ofthings, sir.

But what it does need is Major Sharpe.

- He might already be dead. - (Chuckles) I've heard that one before, sir.

The army needs you, Sergeant.

And it needs the Chosen Men.

Me and the Chosen Men'll be back in no time at all, sir.

Like the shees riding the wind.

See that you are, Sergeant.

Thank you, sir.

Hey! Look who's here!

Our baby.

Patrick?

Patrick José Hagman...

..Cooper Harris Perkins

Harper.

She called him after the midwives!

(Whispers) Take care. Take care.

Come on.

COOPER: Sarge? Sarge,

what's happening? Sarge!

Sarge, where are we offto?

We're going to join up with a man called Sharpe, lads.

- You mean we're all going to die? - No, Perkins, lad.

He may be dead in the eyes ofthe French, but to you and me, he's as lively as an eel.

Just a minute!

- How, sarge? - You know the army, boys.

They couldn't hang a curtain, even ifthey tried.

(Cheering and laughter)

(Whooping)

You are well, I hope?

(Groans)

(Sighs)

You will speak when you're spoken to.

That's the British way.

(Breathes heavily)

I am an officer of His Britannic Majesty's army.

And I demand treatment proper to my rank.

You're not an officer, Sharpe.

You were stripped of your rank by court martial.

You were pronounced dead.

And here you are now,

a civilian,

masquerading, I believe, as Major Vaughan.

(Sighs)

One has to take care of spectacles, Sharpe...

..as you know.

You're a spy, Sharpe.

- I am a soldier. - You're a spy, Sharpe.

Wellington himselffaked your execution.

The Spanish army will be most interested to hear this.

Why did you go to such lengths to rescue the Marquesa?

It was her birthday.

I'd made her a cake.

(Groans)

You broke my spectacles, Sharpe.

Deliberately.

This is a very fine instrument.

From Wellington himself.

An eye for an eye, Sharpe.

Whoa!

(Yells)

There could be a couple ofthousand ofthese at Santa Maria.

There's five of us.

Good odds, eh? What do you think?

Sounds good to me, sarge.

- Très bloody bon! - Uniform, maintenant, eh!

Would you believe me if I said I don't wish you dead?

No.

It's true. You can live.

You can walk out of here with your sword.

We won't exchange you,

of course.

You will spend the rest ofthe war in France.

We might even civilise you.

But then, it's your choice.

Now,

tell me, Sharpe,

did the Marquesa seek for British help?

(Sighs) You're bone-headed, Sharpe.

Like all soldiers.

She put you where you are, and you will not answer the question?

You put me where I am.

I arranged the duel.

But you don't know why.

Since you persist in dying, I will tell you.

King Ferdinand of Spain will sign a treaty with us,

which will mean the British will be routed.

It has the support ofthe Church and ofthe noblemen of Spain.

And all because

you wanted to fight a duel?

You're a fool, Sharpe.

I counted on you being a fool.

(Groans)

(Gasps for breath)

(Breathes heavily)

Un, deux... Allez les gars!

Come on, Perkins, lad. Moan.

- (Perkins moans) COOPER: Aye, go on. More. Go on.

(Perkins moans)

(Moaning continues)

Blimey. They're going to blow this place

to kingdom come.

I have longed for this moment, Sharpe.

I thought it had gone. But you know what?

I do believe there is a God after all.

(Perkins groans)

Eh! Où allez-vous?

Qu'est-ce que vous faites ici? Et où est votre supérieur?

- Où allez-vous? - Allez...

- ..vite. - Passez!

(Groans)

Get off, you daft... It's me! It's me!

Hello, sir.

- What kept you? - I'm a father, sir.

- A wee little boy. Patrick José Hagman Harris... - Congratulations.

I'll buy you a drink in Vitoria.

(Neighing)

Videz-moi ça là-haut.

Là-haut. Allez les gars!

(Drumming)

WELLINGTON: Three French armies stand before us here at Vitoria.

But on this occasion, we have the advantage of numbers.

There will be many deaths here, but we shall prevail.

And in so doing, we will drive the French

from Spain for ever.

Go on, my lads!

Complete your victory! They won't stand!

(Drumming)

Light Company...

our orders are to attack

and take that gun position to our flank there!

Prepare to advance in skirmish order!

The army will follow us!

But you will follow me!

Charge!

ALL: Charge!

(Explosions)

Benedictus benedicat per Jesum Christum dominum nostrum. Amen.

You have failed me, priest.

I do not understand.

Sharpe is alive.

The Marquesa is free. (Cocks gun)

The English come.

Sharpe is dead! I saw him hang!

Aargh!

You call me a liar?

(Explosions)

(Neighing)

(Explosions) - Major Vaughan reporting, sir.

Report.

The French are trying to engineer a treaty with King Ferdinand to drive us out, sir.

Father Hacha is in it up to his neck.

- Which I will break! - Major Ducos

is behind it, sir. He has letters of support from the Spanish.

They were forced by Hacha and the Inquisition. But he's running.

With the letters?

- Yes, sir. - Go to your men, Major Sharpe.

Resume command. Take the French guns and punch a hole as big an army can go through.

- I'll support you with artillery. - Yes, sir.

Sharpe.

If you find the Marquesa, bring her to me.

There are some questions I would like to ask her.

Sir.

Chosen Men!

(Neighing)

(Explosion)

Now, hold the line, boys! Hold the line!

(Groans)

South Essex! Stand firm!

No retreat!

Major Sharpe!

- Mr D'Alembord. (Explosions)

You've got 'em scared, lads!

They know they'll be beaten. And now they've got to face a ghost and his men!

- (Laughter) - Sergeant Harper.

- Sir! - Chosen Men to the front!

Better French keep their heads down.

- Light Company, form a column. (Explosion)

Follow me!

Take that, Dan.

Thank you, Rifleman Moore.

(Yelling)

Come on!

(Roars)

(Explosion)

- Come on! (Explosion)

(Explosion)

- Yes! (All cheer)

(Drumming)

(Cheering)

Yes!

EL MATARIFE: La Marquesa.

Vamos.

Allez!

Poussez-vous devant!

Poussez-vous!

Sharpe!

SHARPE: Marquesa. HARPER: Look at this.

Young Patrick's inheritance.

El Matarife!

SHARPE: Matarife!

You're a coward, Matarife.

You only fight women.

(Rifles cocked)

Ifthey touch her, Pat,

- put a bullet in 'em. - That won't be a problem, sir.

(Laughs)

(Grunts)

You must count the ways of your death.

The dead don't count, Matarife.

Oh, no? Hah!

Come! Death wants you!

(Cheering)

Bastard.

One, two,

three!

(Choking)

You and your brother Father Hacha work for the French.

EL MATARIFE: No! SHARPE: You both work for the French!

Who killed the Marqués?

- Who killed the Marqués? - I did.

Your brother was with you?

- Yes. - You were both paid by the French?

- Yes. - Did you hear him?

Did you?

(Choking)

(Gunshot)

Look after her, Pat.

♪ Lively fiddle music

(Whooping)

Scum ofthe earth, Nairn.

But what damn fine fellows we have made ofthem, sir.

Quite.

Hello.

I wanted to give you this.

As a debt of gratitude.

Thank you.

It's a beauty.

Thank you for what you said.

I didn't expect a British court to show such...

..understanding.

It wasn't me.

Lord Wellington has a weakness for a pretty face,

that's all.

So, you're free.

(Laughs)

I lost my husband,

all my belongings, all my money.

I am now despised by the Spanish

and hated by the French.

Not so free.

I'm sure you'll find a new protector.

I don't need a protector.

What about you? What are you going to do now?

I'm a soldier.

I'll go where Lord Wellington tells me.

Come visit me.

In my house on the Seine.

Lark pâté,

and honey.

Cold, cold wine,

on a hot, hot day.

We'll be passing through.

I look forward to it.

I have orders to move north.

I'm just preparing to leave.

I know.

You said once that you liked me.

Aye. That's true.

HARPER: Excuse me.

All set, sir.

- I'll be right with you, Sergeant Harper. - Yes, sir.

Goodbye, Sharpe.

SHARPE: Oh, women like getting married, Patrick.

HARPER: I know, but why can't theyjust do it, like, and tell us about it afterwards, huh?

SHARPE: Are you sure you want to go through with it?

HARPER: Oh, I wouldn't let Ramona down, now. I'll do it, all right.

I just don't have to enjoy doing it.

♪ Then fall in, lads, behind the drum

♪ With colours 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