All language subtitles for Restoration.1995.WEBRip.x264-RARBG-eng

( majestic)

(chatter)

(baby crying)

(man) Dr. Merivel?

In a moment.

Doctor?
In a moment!

I sprinkled
the lanolin to heal.
We must move on.

This will strengthen the hand.
We must not allow the tendons
to atrophy.

Merivel.
I'll return this afternoon.

Old Mr. Parr is suffering from
an extreme shortness of breath.

What do you prescribe?

Let's try some
syrup of sage flower,

citronella pills
to relieve the coughing...

Doctor.
A quart
of angelica water.

I shall be with you
presently, Mr. Watchurst.

Mr. Hodges.
Hodges.

I'm starving.
You can't be.

I am.
You've already eaten.

I had a piece of bread
and scarcely any cheese.

There's no time to eat.

For five years
that we've worked here,
there is never time to eat,

there is no time to drink,
there is no time even
to look after our patients.

(man) Doctor! Dr. Merivel!

Samuel needs you.

Samuel! Samuel!

Look at me. It's Robert.
It's Robert.

Quiet now. Quiet.
Be quiet now.

(man) Merivel!

Listen, you must see to Parr.
He'll only accept comfort
from you.

Give him
a compress for his head
and some chamomile.

Mr. Parr.

Mr. Parr, tell me
how you're feeling.

Is there hope
I will get well again?

There is always hope.

You must rest.

Allow my medicines
to do their work.

(man) Dr. Merivel.

Doctor!

I do what I can
to treat them,

but our science gives us
no hope of curing most of them,

and I am frustrated.

No, I am frightened.

Of what?

Their faith...
and my ignorance.

And that is why you prefer
a life of debauchery?

Your mother died believing
you were a man of honor.

And I beg her pardon
every night,

and I am at the hospital
every day, Father.

You mean your whoring
is interrupted daily
by the care of the sick.

You've not come to me
for money to spend
on your medicines.

Indeed I have...
in a sense.

The five shillings I require
are for... are for a pawnbroker

so I can
redeem my case of instruments,
Father. I'm sorry to confess it.

You should be
damned for it.

I should.

Look. Look at these hands.
Look at them.

Worked to the bone,
for your case of instruments,

for your teachers
and for the books
on your table.

Or have they
been pawned, too?

So that the son
of a glovemaker

should not be denied
the use of those gifts

which marked you
as a physician

before you could
spell "physic."

My gifts?

Your gifts, Robert.

Ah, yes. My gifts.

My first patient was a frog.
I cured him of jumping.

Now I can cure people
of breathing.

My gifts, Father, bring me
to dark despair in dark rooms

while I can hear joy
in the street.

The king is restored to us,
the theaters are open,

the tailors and wigmakers
are happy as whores.

And rich men
go to heaven again.

I would like to shake
the king's hand.

Take the hand
of your friend Pearce,
Robert.

He is the example
to follow.

He may dress like a crow,

but he once infected himself
with scarlet fever,

the better
to study the disease.

Well, in my own small way,
I'm doing the same for the clap.

Look at this glove.
Touch it.

This glove is for the king.

And that is the closest
you will ever get

to touching the hand
of the king of England.

Here are your five shillings.

Redeem your case
of instruments...

...and if you've a heart,

redeem your gifts, Robert.

Thank you, Father.

And don't spend the money
on women.

Mary!

(knock at door)
(man) Merivel!

I must prevail on you
to come to the examining theater
this instant.

I won't be a moment, Pearce.

Merivel!

He's probably fled
because of your antics.

Pearce, you must not
take my romping

as an affront to you.

I simply answer
the call of nature.

Yes, well,
your nature, like mine,
is very much fallen.

That awful truth
ought to go some way towards
discouraging your unsightly...

(both) bouts of debauchery.

I suppose you're right,
but I do very much enjoy them.

This is the fellow.

Shall I unbuckle?

(Pearce) Please, yes.

Good God.

A fracture of the ribs
occasioned by a fall
from his horse

was brought to
a terrible suppuration.

The doctors feared
it would never heal.

You can see the sconce
of the old ulcer
at the edge here.

Yes.

Merivel, we are witnessing
a living, beating heart.

Might a man touch it
with his hand?

No one has ever dared.

Yes.

Yes?

Sir?

I cannot.

Pearce, it's just...

Please, I mean...
Just, please...

Perhaps your friend...

Are you not afraid?

I'm beyond fear, sir.
Are you?

Are you
touching the organ, sir?

Can you not feel my grip?

I feel nothing at all.

No pain?

Nothing.

Tell me, who is
the young doctor?

Robert Merivel,
Your Majesty.

(king) You will
summon him to the palace
this very afternoon.

Watch where you're going,
you fool.

Stockings.

It's the young doctor,
Your Majesty.

Do you know
why I've summoned you here?

I...

A great heaviness
hangs over me,

causing me a most abject
desperation.

Someone very close to me
is dying,

someone without whom
I cannot live.

My doctors have bled her
repeatedly,

have tried without success
lesions, emetics and purges,

shaved the hair off her body
in order to cup her,

but she does not rally.

(gargles)

You are my final hope,
Merivel.

If you can cure her,
I will offer you a place here
as a court physician.

And if I fail?

You must not fail.

Her name is Lulu.

Lulu, Your Majesty?

Your own name, by the way,
has a very pleasing cadence.

Thank you, sir.

Merivel.

Very pretty to the ear.

Lulu?

My darling is not well.

Come, Merivel.

Call for any medicines,
anything you deem suitable.

You will stay
until the little creature
recovers.

Of course.

Do not disappoint me,
Merivel.

I shall not, sire.

(howls)

There was a time
she would have answered me.

(whimpering)

What have they done to you?

(whimpering)

"My dear Pearce,

"by the time
you read this letter,
my fate will be sealed.

"This morning, my future
never glowed so bright,

"and now it is sputtering out
in the life of a sick spaniel.

"If I save her, my life
will be changed utterly.

"If she dies,
I may as well go with her.

"I think of our great teacher -
William Harvey.

"Though I was often
drunk at his lectures,
I remember his cry.

"'Non ti mente cari natura.'

'Trust in
the power of nature.'"

"Is that the best hope now
for Lulu and me?

"To let her sleep
and give nature a chance
to work quietly within her?

"But what if I am wrong?

How will I explain
this prescription
to His Majesty?"

(bell ringing)

(Lulu whimpering)

(whimpers)

This is well done.

I like you, Merivel.
Yours is a curious
and original mind.

And in this new age,
originality is of great value.

We shall open
our palace to you, Merivel,
its treasures and temptations,

and we shall see
what you make of yourself.

Thank you, sire.

You have been given
an extraordinary opportunity
for one of your rank.

Haven't I? I have.

You must at every moment
please the king.

Th-Th-That would mean...

If you do not, suffice to say,
I shall be watching.

Good.
Now...

it is my task
to lay out for you
your life in this place.

This shall be your lodging.

The royal tailors
will be continually
at your disposal.

And these shall be
your playfellows.

(Pearce) This paper sets forth
the following duties

"for one Robert Merivel,
physician.

"The daily care and comfort
of the 18 royal dogs

with, as required, the right
to perform operations
upon them."

It's ten years wasted.

I'll warrant you,
your life will be undone.

No, not wasted, Pearce,
for those years have brought me
to this new life.

I'm to the palace,
and that's an end of it.

My dear, we must be pleased
for each other.

You must be pleased
for my appointment

as I am pleased
that you have... uh...

given up drinking sack.

And found my peace
in Quakerism.

Even so, Pearce, even so.

(Merivel) "My dear Pearce,

"a year has passed
most profitably
and pleasurably,

"leaving me no moment
in which to write to you.

"All day, I am thick
in the affairs of state,

"yet I manage to employ
my medical knowledge,

"especially of anatomy,
in the services of the king,

who's particularly fond
of my trick of farting at will."

I am Aeolius,

king of the winds!

(farts)

(laughter)

"That my dear departed father
could see me now,

"for the king shows me
a flattering affection

that stems, I suspect,
from my ability to amuse him."

(man) Our physician
has become our fool.

What do you make
of the preparations, Merivel?

Oh, they're most wondrous, sire.
What is it for?

A wedding.
Oh!

A most lavish affair.
Yes.

Who's to be married?
Celia Clemence.

I understood
she was your mistress.

Then you understood right,
Merivel.

That is generosity, indeed.

Merivel, let me explain.

Celia Clemence's
presence in my bed

continues to be
a necessity.

So, too, does that
of my grand amour -
Barbara Castlemaine.

But her tantrums
on the subject
of Miss Clemence

are making me edgy.

So, Miss Clemence
is to be married

and seemingly
dispatched out of London
with her husband,

while, in fact, I secrete her
near the river in Kew,

the better to sport with her
unobserved.

(chuckles)

And for her husband,

I need a man who is
far too enamored
of women in general

to make the mistake
of loving one in particular.

Again,
a most superior aspect
of the plan.

Whom has Your Majesty chosen
for this particular honor?

Yes, in fact, I have decided
that you should be the one
to marry her, Merivel.

Marry, Your Majesty?

Marry, Merivel. The phrase
is very pretty to my ear.

But, sire, I do not wish
to marry...

I'm not asking you to wish it.
I'm asking you to do it.

Merivel, have I not done you
very many favors in the past?

Yes, sire,
many favors, but...

Voilà! You owe me
at least one in return.

I shall, of course,
reward you for it.

Make you a knight,

give you a most agreeable
estate in Suffolk

and my second-best bed.

I would prefer
to stay at court.

No, no. You will go to Suffolk.
And you will make something
of the house,

and perhaps,
if the time is right,

we shall favor you
with a visit.

I...
Go now.

Only remember this, Merivel.

If she's ever there
with you,

there will be no... intimacy
of any kind between you.

Though she is your wife,
she is yours in name only.

You are to be
a paper bridegroom.

(chuckling)

(man) Voilà, mesdemoiselles.

Non, non, non, non,
non, non, non.

Là, l.

Un, deux,

trois...

Et reculez...

(Merivel)
"Sir Robert Merivel...
Bidnold."

(lecturer) ...nova
vel noviter inventa.

Observationes proprias
et alienas recensere

ad considerandum
propriam opinionem

vel obsignatis tabulis

in aliis animalibus

agere secundum
Socratis regulam.

Unde observationes

exoticas
primus observationes...

I've come
to give you these.

These... these are
your medical books.

I know.

Your copy of Harvey.
I know.

I've resolved
to abandon medicine.

The king has made
other plans for me.

I have been given a knighthood,
an estate and a wife.

This is my time
of preferment, Pearce.
This is my time.

What?

Nothing.

Merivel.

When you stood in this room
and put your hand around
that man's heart,

something I did not dare do,

then... your vital flame
was burning.

Can't you see?

The light has gone
out of your eyes.

No, my study of medicine
has given me nothing

but a perpetual
and visible awareness
of mortality,

that were I to continue,
it would very shortly
bring me to despair.

Very well.

I must see to my dogs.
Very well.

(lecturer)
Operei pretium uricarius.

Merivel!

Operei pretium uricarius.
Merivel!

Itaque cum...

Merivel! Harvey
revealed his work to us

so that, treading
in the same path,

we might
discover very many things
as yet unknown to others.

You have a gift
for healing, Merivel.

I do not.
Yes.

Oh, yes, you do.
For understanding sickness.

Death is a terrible thing,
Pearce.

I need color and light,
not darkness and death.

I feel I have had quite enough
of dark things.

I want bright things
and decorative things.

I am, after all,
a creature of the new age.

I shall pray for you.

Come along, Mr. Bung.

(kissing noises)

(barking)

Your bride.

(lute plays)

(gasps)

(applause)

(man) Be still, God,
you're in tasteless vice.

(man \#2)
To the wedding chamber!

(shouting and cheering)

(chanting "Merivel")

(men chant) Bed her well,
Merivel!

Bed her well, Merivel!

Bed her well, Merivel!

Bed her well, Merivel!

Bed her well, Merivel!

(cheering)

(Merivel sighs)

I believe our kiss
convinced them,
Lady Celia.

(chuckles)

Well done, Merivel!

Well done!

We fooled 'em all.
We did.

You are a most useful
fellow, Merivel,
most useful.

And at the moment,
you are most useful to me
in Suffolk.

Yes.

Oh. Yes.

(king) Your disguise
is behind the pillar.

(groans)

(Celia groans)

(moaning)

(Merivel) "Pearce, this
will make no sense to you,

"as it makes no sense to me,

"but the moment
I saw Lady Celia,

"I was captivated by her.

"When I think of her,
I feel faint.

"My heart aches, and I fear
there is no cure for me,

for I cannot stop
thinking of her,
even in my sleep."

(bell ringing)

(man) Sir Robert?

Welcome to Bidnold.

Ah.

Will Gates
at your service.

You are alone, sir?

Yes. Lady Merivel desired
that I act as a vanguard

and see the lie of the land.

I trust that the wedding
went off as planned?

Yes, most well.
Um, I shall now retire.

Could you send up
some strong liquor?

Yes, sir.

(bells ringing)

Good morning,
Sir Robert.

Mr. Gates.

I find the house induces in me
a most melancholy frame of mind.

And exceeding dark.

The king confiscated it
from a Puritan.

Oh.

Mr. Gates?

I must be straight with you.

We shall not expect
Lady Merivel's arrival
for some time.

Well...

One cannot stay in bed
indefinitely.

What one needs
is a diversion.

The king told me
to make something
of the house.

Well... And you
are monarch here.

(Merivel) We shall have
color and light!

We'll have purples and golds
and crimsons and scarlets
and carmines.

What, all together
in one place, sir?
Yes, Mr. Gates.

We will make this house
so beautiful that if Lady Celia
were to pay us a visit,

she would never want to leave.

Ah, the Dutchman.

Yes.

All of it.

Yes!

(Merivel) Mr. Gates,
to divert myself further

and to display
our lavish decoration,

I feel the urge for company.

Perhaps a visit from
the neighbors will restore
my old uncontainable nature.

A pox on wisdom.

Let us all be mares
and stallions!

Sir Robert,
someone at the door.
What?

At the door? Another mare come
to whinny in our festivities?

Not quite the time...
Why do you not have a turban?

Guy, supply Mr. Gates
with a turban.

Sir Robert Merivel.

Oh. Ladies...

Would you show me immediately
to my rooms?

Yes, of course,
and without d-delay.

Without delay.

Oh, dear.

Right there.

(clears throat)

Where am I?

I attempted to take you
back to your room
last night, sir,

but you were most insistent
to sleep here.

(bird tweets)

What's the bird?

A gift from Lady Violet.

Oh, Mr. Gates,

I've just had a most
extraordinary dream.

I dreamed that Lady Celia

did arrive at Bidnold
in a most foul humor.

I'm afraid she did, sir,
and she has now repaired
to the garden room.

(servant) Careful, careful.
I've got it.

Keep it to your left.

Lady Celia.

I have come to bid you
welcome to Bidnold.

No, I do not desire
to be made welcome.

The king will very soon
ask me back to him.

I'm sure he will.

I'm sure he has of late
been most distracted
by the foreign wars.

But in the meantime,
if there's any comfort

I might provide here at Bidnold
for your Ladyship...

No, there is nothing.

Nothing.

Well...

Well, then together,
we shall wait for a return
of the king's love.

Love? You use that word?

The king in his love for me
made use of you.

He looked around for
the stupidest man he could find,
and he found you.

I begged him not to marry me
to such a fool.

I have brought a...

Stay away from me.

(Merivel) "Celia,
my loneliness consumes me,

but I see your unhappiness
is as great as mine."

( oboe)

Come in, please.

I hope my playing
isn't disturbing you.

No, it is I
who am disturbing you.

Uh, no.

What is the bird?

I'm told it is
an Indian nightingale.
It was a gift.

From the king?

Yes, from the king.

It's most beautiful.
Mm.

Only it does not sing.
No.

Perhaps it wants encouragement.

Now,
if it were to hear you play,
for your playing, as I recall,

has about it
an exceeding sweetness.

Would it be asking too much
if I were to keep the bird
in my room?

No, nothing would be
too much. Will!

No. I'll...

And let the garden room
be my private habitation...

where I shall, perhaps,
from time to time, invite you.

Um...

I find much of
the decoration here
rather disturbing.

Yes, certain of the servants
regularly complain of it.

Merivel, forgive me
if I spoke before of matters
that do not regard me.

We live in an age
where many are made fools
and many are deceived.

I, in my faith
for the king's love,
am probably as foolish as you.

Ahem.

Oh, it's from my old friend
Mr. Pearce.

It seems he is now
working in a hospital
with his Quakers.

Will, will you sit down?

Please.

Is there a Mrs. Gates?

Oh, no, sir.

The messy constellations
I see through my telescope

offer me
no clue to my destiny.

There is, I fear,
a great deal about the world
and my role in it,

which,
despite all my early learning,
I utterly failed to understand.

I must restrain my farts

and do something
altogether more constructive.

What is the matter, sir?

I've done the one thing
forbidden by the king.

I've fallen in love
with my wife.

( oboe)

(knock at door)

Merivel.

There is someone to see you.
This is Mr. Finn, a painter.

A painter?

A painter?

Welcome! A painter!

Most excellent.
Did I send for a painter?

No, sir.

Never mind.

I'm a keen painter myself.

I call it Le Matin de Merivel,
L'Automne.

What do you make of it,
honestly?

It is an excrescence.

Ah. Perhaps that is
the word for it,

but to me, it's a rather
memorable rendering

of all the colors
I have in my park.

You must not
show this painting
to anyone.

You must,
I think, burn it.

Merivel, Mr. Finn has arrived
with a commission.

A commission? From whom?

Robin Hood?
(snickers)

Robin Hood...

Oh, yes.
My Lincoln green.

(sarcastic laughter)
How funny.

Now, if I may -

"This letter commands
the following commission
by one Elias Finn, myself,

"a noble and beautiful portrait
of Lady Merivel.

An excellent painting
will earn Mr. Finn
a small place at court."

So you see, not Robin Hood,
the king.

Shall we go?

My imprisonment is over.
The king means me to return.

Ah, cherubs.
Uh-huh.

The king has often told me
he cannot abide the cherub.

I would not depend upon this
for your future, either of you.

Why not, Merivel?

It is a commission
from the king.

My dear Flynn,
no, Finch...

Ah... Finn.

Many portraits
are commissioned
by the king,

and most of the poor artists
are still waiting to be paid.

Yes, well, we shall
have to make the painting
too beautiful to be resisted.

And, Celia,

there seems to be no mention
of your returning to court.

But why else would he ask
for a portrait?

A souvenir, perhaps.

A letter, Sir Robert.

From the king.

If I may... If I may...

What mention does the king make
of the painting in his letter?

Oh, he says... None.

I would
frame some message to him,
but I know not what to say.

Celia, if I do not
set sail now,

I shall not reach London
by morning,

and we both know the king
regards a betrayal of time
as a betrayal of faith.

(men talk
amongst themselves)

(king) Ah, Merivel,
is it you?

It is me.

It is, in fact, I, sire.

Time has changed you,
Merivel.

As with many of my people,
some vital part of you
appears to be asleep.

Something's arrived,
Merivel.

Something that may rouse
even you from sleep.

The plague.

La peste.

Deptford, four people have died.
It will spread.

Some of us will be spared,
and some will die.

But all of us will awake.

(chuckles)

(laughs)

Come along, Merivel.
There is much to discuss.

You see, I have started work
upon this toad.

Will you help me
to dissect it?

Yes, if you
wish me to, sire.

Yes, I do wish you to,
Merivel.

I have summoned you
to talk about your wife.

Pin, Merivel.

When I married her to you,

it was to hide her
from the intelligent gaze
of my mistress -

Lady Castlemaine.

There.

Observe the sheen of the gut.
It's like a jewel.

You may imagine, then, my fury
when she commanded me

to end my liaison
with Lady Castlemaine

and likewise
to terminate my amours

with certain...
actresses of the playhouse.

So I banished her
to Suffolk.

Now the grosser part of me

is uncommonly sensible
to her absence.

The royal tool is waving about
in search of her.

She is... skillful
and enthusiastic
in these matters.

Merivel, I desire you
to impress upon Celia

to be content
with what she has.

Tell her
to come to me in humility,
and she may have it all again,

her house,
servants, money,

and the king in her bed
from time to time.

I desire
her penitent return

when the portrait
is finished.

He's a slow painter,
Your Majesty,

what with all the cherubs.

What is a painting
without cherubs, hmm?

Precisely, sir.

Make this clear, Merivel.

I expect her in my bed
when the portrait is complete.

The king would give no promise
whatsoever with regard to you.

But he must have
said something.

He desired that
you stay here at Bidnold

until you became aware
of the changeful nature
of all things.

But how long does he say
this will take?

Months?

Years?

Am I to grow old
and see my beauty vanish

and all that once pleased him
turn to decay?

I'm sure he does not
intend that,

but he has put the matter
into your hands and into mine.

Into your hands?

Yes.

For I am to judge
when you are ready.

And the king has promised
to correspond with me regularly
over the matter.

And how should I arrive
at this wisdom?

He suggested, perhaps,

that we, together, exercise
our gifts for music.

Just arrived, sir.

Will, I need you
to do something for me.
Anything, sir.

You must forge a letter to me
from the king.

Oh, sir.

And...

the king makes no mention
of a date for me to have
completed the painting?

My dear Finch...

Finn!

He has no interest, it seems,
in the painting whatsoever,

but for his continued
suspicion of cherubs.

It has always seemed to me
that it is to music

that His Majesty
owes his greatest affection.

We are all mere pawns.

Mmm, prawns. Yes, please.
No, no, pawns.

Pawns!

Hmm.

(Celia) Merivel, wake up.
There's something
I must tell you.

Celia.

The bird is ill.
The bird?

The bird... The bird!

Please, we must do something.

Well, birds
are not really my...
But, Merivel, it is dying.

Merivel, why are you
no longer a physician?

When I asked the king
why he was marrying me
to such a fool,

he said that
you had a great gift
for healing.

Perhaps I should stay.

We should watch over
the bird together.

Yes, I would like that.

It's dead.

Are you not
putting yourself
at terrible risk, sir?

Forging the king's seal
is a hanging offense.

I love her, Will. I must
do all I can to discourage
completion of the portrait.

Sir Robert...

I'm sure your wife
is greatly dismayed at the loss
of her favorite bird.

Inconsolable, I fear.

Which must, in turn,
cause you much distress.

Of course.
I did all that I could.

Sir Robert,
now that the painting
is nearly complete,

I feel it is my duty

to thank you
for your hospitality
during my stay here.

Th-Th-The desire
to finish the work

has perhaps made me
less than an ideal guest.
For that I am sorry.

No matter, Finn, no matter.
I understand better than most
the lure of court.

(chuckles)

Sir Robert, may I be
forward with you?

During my stay here,

I've noticed that
a certain bond has formed

between yourself
and Lady Merivel.

And that you are perhaps,

although she has warmed
considerably,

unsure how to further
the matter.

Perhaps if-if-if I were to
broach the subject with her,

her natural shyness
might find some release.

God, it's a most delicate
situation,

but it might be
the very thing.

I think.

Well, I'll do what I can.

I will, of course,
act most subtly.

(harpsichord playing)

(Finn whispers) Merivel!

(whispering)
I have spoken to Lady Celia,

and my impression
is that your advances
would not be unwelcome.

Voilà! Venus.

Uncommonly bright.

A good portent,
Venus being the brightest
of all the evening stars,

and the reigning planet
of earthly love.

Come and look.

Oh, oh.

Here, here.

Ah.

You're right, Merivel.
It truly is a beautiful star.

And it smiles on us
from on high.

We are blessed.

Oh!

Merivel?

Merivel! (muffled cries)

No! No!

Celia, you must think
no more of the king.

If he is not weary of you now,
he soon will be.

You're wrong, Merivel.
The king wants me back.

Do you think he will
curtail his amours

with the actresses
of the playhouse? Never.

He is a loose fish.
He cannot be held or kept.

I am your husband,
and all that I ask

is that you allow me
to love you.

(spits)

Just arrived
from the palace, sir.

Mr. Finn has betrayed us.

I shall leave for court
in the morning.

And, Will...

Pack one of our pineapples.

I shall take it
as a gift to the king,

though I fear that...

What, sir?

That no offering of this kind
would be enough.

Ah, Merivel.

This is my new plan
for our native city, Merivel.

Yes, come along, Merivel.

See how Fleet Street
is thus straightened

and there is here
one straight view
from Ludgate Circus

past St. Paul's
and on to the Royal Exchange.

Here's another street
from Smithfield
down to the river,

where perhaps the halls
of the lesser companies

might be built
along Thames Quay.

All for the beauty, ornament
and convenience of the city.

Sit down, Merivel.
Oh!

I-It is
a brave new plan, sire.
Now, I have...

Do you remember
we once made a plan
together, Merivel?

And in that plan,
love was not asked of you.

Indeed, it was the only thing
specifically forbidden of you.

By ignoring what we agreed,

you have driven yourself
out of paradise.

Out of paradise?

Well, yes,
for what is your role now?

I had not intended
to love Celia.

I... I do not know
how it happened.

It happened because
you allowed it to happen.

By trying to be the thing
that you were charged
with pretending to be,

you have rendered yourself
useless to me.

I'm taking Bidnold from you.

What'll I do?

What did you do before?

I was... I worked
as a physician.

Ah, yes, in the hospital.

Well, you can use
that skill again.

I cannot.

Why not, Merivel?

Because I'm afraid.

Precisely.

So au revoir, Merivel.

I shall not say adieu,
for, who knows,

perhaps in the future

history may have
another role for you.

Your Majesty, you took me
from the Royal College,

gave me your dogs
to look after.

You... liked me
for my foolishness.

No, Merivel.

I liked you for your skill,

for then the two were in you -
light and dark.

But now your skill
has fallen away,

and you are one foolish,
quivering mass.

The plague is coming,
Merivel.

And the plague rouses men
from their sleep.

You know, Will, in my time
at Bidnold, I have grown
uncommonly fond of you.

And I, if I may say so, sir,
am uncommonly fond of you.

So you're off to Mr. Pearce
and the Quakers, sir?

I've nowhere else to go.

(thunder rumbling)

Ah. How may I help you,
friend?

I've come to visit
my friend Pearce.

You must be Robert.
Please, enter.

Daniel!

John told us one day
you were like to join us.

Ah, did he?

Get some oats
for the horse.

I do not intend staying long.

I hate being hulched up anywhere
for too long, so...

(Pearce) Robert!

Robert!
Pearce!

Pearce!
John.

John?

Here in Whittlesea,
I'm John, you're Robert.

I'm bound,
after all these years,
to find that difficult.

Come on.

Let's get you out of the wet
and up to your room.

It's the size
of one of my linen cupboards.

Here we give prominence
to other things, Robert.

When I saw your life before
among the terrible luxuries
of the court, I...

Well, I prayed
you would be taken out of it.

And yet, I was uncommonly
fond of it, Pearce.

This is our new friend
Robert.

This is Ambrose,

Daniel,

and our dear sisters
Hannah and Eleanor.

Robert is well-qualified
to help us.

He claims
to have forgotten medicine,
but I know he has not.

I have. Sadly, I have.
Not.

Well... Regrettably,
but in fact...
Stop it.

Lord, send a light
to show Robert the way.

(Hannah) Dear Jesus,
be with Robert.

(Eleanor) God in heaven,
take Robert's hand,

be at his side.

(Daniel) And even
when night comes,
still be at his side.

(all) Amen.

(Ambrose) The inmates
are looked after
in a series of barns.

This is the men's barn,

and in the women's barn,
the invalid friends
weave sailcloth.

The keepers must
never enter the barns alone.

Yes, I certainly understand.

This is alarming.
This is our work now.

But how has madness
undone so many?

By a hundred different ways.

Madness is
a brother and sister
to misfortune.

Poverty and abandonment
are prime causes.

This is Robert.

He's come to help us
in our work.

Say the name to yourselves
and keep it precious,

because he is your friend.

Robert.

We have one here...
Robert.

...a young Irishwoman,
Katharine.

She was abandoned one night
by her husband,

and now she will not sleep.

Are you another man sent
to do me injustice?

Katharine, this is
our new friend Robert.

He won't hurt you.

Red may now, having passed
under the hoop,

endeavor
to roquet black.

May we not play
a little croquet here,
Robert?

No, no.

The sight of a croquet hoop
would produce in John

a most extraordinary
reaction.

What is she doing?
(Daniel) She calls it
her leaving step.

That some kind of dance?

Hello, Robert.
Hello.

Every man on earth
has his leavin' step.

If my husband
had been a small man,

he would not
have been able to leave.

He was a large man,
stepped over me as I slept

in one giant stride.

The king, too,
being plagued by fools

from whom he wishes
to walk away,

has perfected his leaving step
to a walk of unsurpassed
elegance.

Show me then that walk.

Um... well...

Sort of...

I cannot.
My imitation is too poor.
The shoes are all wrong.

But you, too, are a man.
Have you not your own
leavin' step?

No. It is others
who leave me.

(Ambrose) Lunacy
is a devilish liquid thing.

It can only be coaxed out
by blood, vomit or feces.

Can you not smell
the choler?

See? She's quiet now.
Of course. She's lost
a lot of blood.

Do you honestly believe
that the bleeding
is necessary?

I hope to make her sleep.
Sleep is the best thing for her.

Is there not some other way?

Robert, you've not seen
the nature of her madness.

She marches
up and down at night,
shouting and crying.

What does she shout?
That she is not mad.

Perhaps she is not mad.

On two occasions, she tried
to take her own life.

Mightn't that be despair -

what you and I would feel
were we locked away
with the mad?

Why do you tear
your clothes?

I'm making windows
for my limbs to see through.

Clothes make me blind,
and I must be watchful
at all times,

lest someone come
to hurt me again.

This is for you -
the robe of sleep,

to comfort you
as you comfort
your doll.

Robert.

I shall be along shortly.

Why are you afraid to sleep?

Once I fell asleep,

but the evil in me was wakeful,

and I let slip my little girl.

Your daughter?

My man was an English soldier,
one of Cromwell's.

He was good to my family.

And I was green as a goose.

And fair-looking.

It was he
took you to London?

A little girl was born to us
and lived three years
before she was taken.

She liked to see the boats.

We watched the river
and the river watched us,

until one day,
I closed my eyes,

and the river took her
for drownin'.

You must be watchful always,
Robert.

Do not sleep.

We will be watchful
for each other.

You can sleep.
I will take the first watch.

I cannot.

Across the sea,
in the land of Mar,

there is a valley

where are kept
all the things lost on earth.

Lost kingdoms, lost riches,

lost hours, lost loves.

The people go there to discover
their lost days and lost deeds.

And often they are surprised

to come across
a few of their lost wits...

simply because they never
in the least missed them.

Robert, if you're seen
to be overattentive to one,

you'll be seen to be
less than attentive
to the others.

I helped her to sleep.
So perhaps I was near
a cure for her.

(Pearce)
That is somewhat arrogant.

Cures are not performed
by us.

Only Jesus cures.
We are merely his agents.

But may we not, as his agents,

look to ourselves,
to our own experience,

to aid in a cure?

When I am ill,
I will seek out,

at the first sign or footstep
of that illness,

the services of a physician
to help me to a cure.

The insane man,
on the contrary,

is not brought
to any bedlam or hospital

until his disease
is far advanced.

For all our inmates,
there was a time before,

when there was no madness
in them.

We should try to ask
each one of those in our care

to try to remember how it was
to be in the time before,

and to return them there,

perhaps as sleep
returns Katharine
to her time before,

a time of some joy,

and in this way,
we might discover

the imprint
of the steps to madness.

There,
just under the surface,

there could be cures
by dancing and laughter.

I see Daniel
playing a tarantella,

I see the women dancing
like happy children.

I see... I see...

...all the things lost
on earth.

Robert!

This is not
the court masque.
I know that!

But you cannot banish joy,

for that is the road
to madness,

and all this...

has come to me
from the Lord.

I suspect.

Today, instead of walking
round the tree,

we're going to dance.

Or skip. Or gallop.
Anything.

And your keepers
will dance with you.

(Merivel) Um...

This is a twirling dance,

so why do you not twirl
and turn and... dance.

( lively)

Hello, Robert.

(tempo increases)

1, 2 and 3 and 4.

Dance with me.
I cannot.

He cannot,
for he is the music.

Perhaps John
will ask you to dance.

Why was music
not always with us?

John.

John?

John.

Robert.

For a month now -

and I'm telling this
to you and nobody else -

I've felt certain symptoms
come upon me.

First you must rest.

Only then, Pearce,
can I prescribe my remedy.

John.
Ah, "John," then.

But you will be
neither one nor the other
if you allow yourself to die.

I cannot stay in bed.
There's so much work to do.

Please do not make me
lose my temper.

Have I not a hundred times
since we've met allowed you
to command me

about this or that thing
at your bidding? I have.

So do not even consider
contradicting me.

What you do prescribe?

Syrup of roses

to warm your blood
and soothe your coughing.

A burdock poultice
for your head.

And for the slime
in the lung?

Sal ammoniac.
And a balsam.

Yes, we shall try several,
dissolved in boiling water
and inhaled.

It's all come back
to you, then, Robert?

The right knowledge
at the right time.

Perhaps. We shall see.

(Pearce coughing)

(door opens)

Tell me more tales
of the land of Mar.

In the woods, there live
great families of badger,

and people like to
bring their children there
to see them.

The children are always told
if they are very quiet
they will see them, but...

...as far as I know,
they are never quiet enough.

(whispering) This shall be
our meeting place.

(whispers) Yes.

And I'll wait for you.

And you'll come to me.

I will.

(Pearce, weakly) Merivel?

I heard you go out.

If I cannot sleep,
sometimes I walk
in the air at night.

Let's see.

You're burning up.

You called me Merivel.

Since this fever, I've...

I've forgotten
your other name.

Robert.

Robert.

That's it.

What I do remember is...

how we witnessed
the beating heart.

Yes, I remember.

You put your hand in
and touched it,
but I could not.

I remember.

And yet,
the man felt nothing.

(whispers)
Yes, he felt nothing.

Pray for me
that I become that man
and feel no pain.

I shall.

(Ambrose) It is not
the plague, then.

No, it's his lung.
A potent consumption.

Let us pray
for our friend John
in his time of trouble,

that his pain
may be the less.

(thunder rumbling)

Stay with me.

The pain is less
when you stay.

(crying and moaning)

Blessed be
the name of the Lord

from this time forth
and forevermore.

From the rising of the sun

and to the going down
of the sea,

the Lord's name
is to be praised.

It troubles me
to take with me to my grave

so much that I do not know.

I'd rather you did not talk
about the grave, John.

Of course you would.

There are many matters,
ever since I met you,

upon which you would
prefer me to remain silent.

But it has never been my way.

Here.

Your copy of Harvey.

You have a gift, Merivel.

Use it.

Robert!

Robert!

Robert!

Robert!

Robert is my lover!

Robert!

He is my lover!

Robert!

Robert!

He is my lover!

Farewell, my friend.

When the time is right,
Robert shall leave us,

and he will take Katharine
with him.

Why?

Because, Daniel,
she is carrying his child.

Goodbye, Hannah.
Goodbye, Robert.

Goodbye, Ambrose.
Goodbye, Robert.

Walk on.

He will never teach me
croquet now.

Ride a cockhorse
to Banbury Cross

To see a fine lady ride
on her white horse

With rings on her fingers
and bells on her toes

And she
shall have music...

Are you content now?

Why should I not be?

Will you be Quakerish
all the way to London?

You know, in Ireland,
a man with a horse, a cart

and a book he knows how to read
is the catch of the county.

Perhaps when we have
made fire of the cart

and eaten the horse
and wiped our arses
with the book,

you will become acquainted
with what you have caught.

(man) Oi! Hop it!

Find the lady.
She's here, she's there.

You seek her everywhere.

She's floating in the air.

Where is she?
Find the lady.

(whispers)
That was my sixpence
if I had played.

Here's our chance
of money.

Here's your chance
to be shorn like a sheep.

Ho, fellow.

Move on, or you'll lose
your breeches.

Thank you, but I'm not
one of your bog-dwelling
Irish bumpkins.

I have had some traffic
with the affairs of men.

We must have money.
There's money
inside my skirt.

(laughs)
Sarah.

She is simple.

(Katharine bleats
like sheep)

We are doctor and patient.

(bleats)

I am the doctor.

Show me the cards.

Find the lady.

(horn blows, flat)

(strains)

I've lost everything.

Not quite everything, sir.

I cannot.
That was a gift
from the king.

Pity.

Once more.

"Sir Robert Merivel,
Master of Bidnold"?

Show me the cards.
(laughs)

Find the lady.

Here, there,
floating in the air.

Find the lady.

No!

I've made her mad again.

Gold,

heavy as a hen egg,
against everything he's lost.

And breakfast.
She's simple.

It's gold. Even-stevens, then.
And breakfast.

Oh, shame.
To rob an idiot girl.
That's not kind, Robert.

Find the lady.

No!

Ha!

But how?

Simple.

Ride a cockhorse
to Banbury Cross

To see a fine lady ride
on her white horse

With rings on her fingers
and bells on her toes

She shall have music
wherever she goes

(bell tolling)

(Merivel) Hello?

Hello?
Hello!

I once lived here.

Put your hand on my belly.

I'm frightened that something
might happen to take it away.

We'll build him
a big, strong castle
in the land of Mar.

Put him in a high tower,
where he will be safe...

...where he will feel none
of the unkindness of the world,

scheming, ugliness.

And should he pass
through the valley
of lost things,

nothing of him
will ever be lost.

And we shall call him John.

No one will ever be able
to take him from you.

(ringing bell)

Do not enter, sir.

I've come looking for work.
I... I attended the college.

That ward is struck,

and once a ward
or a house is struck,

then all the people therein
are quarantined for 40 days.

Both sick and well?

Both together.

What happens?

We leave them.

Mostly, they die.

What about the physicians?
All fled.

Physicians have become
the men most despised.

Perhaps you'd like that,
sir.

Physicians used to wear them

to purify the air
against the plague.

You can keep it.

The physician who wore it
comes here no more.

Nor does he go anywhere.

Nor has breath.

(laughs)

(gasps)

(whispers) John?

(Pearce) You have a gift,
Merivel. Use it.

For the child.

Why do you stay with me?

Because the child
has weaved our lives together.

I know you don't love me
as you've loved others.

Perhaps I do not
recognize love, Katharine.
I am not a wise man.

In the land of Mar,

which lies
just above Africa...

To help you sleep.

You must sleep, Robert,

if you are to heal others
as you've healed me.

(groaning)

(whispers) It's all right,
it's all right.

(whispers)
We can only wait and pray.

And then if she should start
to slip away?

Then there is only
one thing can be done.

Katharine. Katharine.

The baby is large.
You cannot push it out of you.

Is there nothing
can be done to save it?

I must cut into the womb.

But if I do, I shall lose you,

and I don't want to lose you,
Katharine.

You must save the child.

Are you not afraid?

Your leavin' me I fear.

Nothin' else.

Be with me now, Pearce.

Help me.

Hold back the flesh
while I gently lever
the child out.

(baby cries)

Katharine?

Katharine.

Katharine.

There's nothing more
I can do.

Sir.

Robert.

It is no John.
It is our little girl.

We shall call her Margaret.

Margaret.

I love you, Robert.

I love you.

Keep her safe.

I will.

(sobs)

(priest) Earth to earth,
ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

In sure and certain hope
of resurrection

to eternal life...

I write this for you,
dear Margaret,

to tell you something
of my life.

Whatever is good in it

I owe to two people
whom I could not save.

Your mother loved you
and gave her life for yours.

She was the bravest spirit
I ever knew.

The most compassionate
was my friend John Pearce.

Now I know I must return
to our work in the hospital

and take on the role
that was always meant for me.

I have arranged
for your safekeeping,

for if I become ill,

I will not return.

(baby crying)

But they are tied to the bed.

Those already affected
with the plague are tied

to prevent them going
to the streets like madmen

and infecting other people.

But the sick and the well
must be separated.

Open it.

I cannot, sir.

The proclamation.
The plague!

Then I shall open it.

The sick and the well
they keep quarantined
together.

If I were merely
to separate them,

a great many lives
would be saved.

Who do I have to thank
for this kindness?

One John Pearce.

The sick I can offer no cure,

but my presence among them
may bring with it some hope.

Fear is our greatest enemy

and hope, our best weapon
against the disease.

They have mistaken me
for John Pearce,

a mistake
to which I've contributed.

I allow them to continue
to honor my friend.

Dr. Pearce.

(Margaret crying)

There you are.
Mary will show you out.

There, there.

There, there.

Ah.

Margaret.

Dr. Pearce?
Who calls?

Pearce.

I give her into your hands.

Call for any medicines,
anything you deem suitable.

Why have they sent
another doctor to me?

You must want to live,
Lady Celia.

No.

Not in so wretched a state.

Tell me, Doctor,

why is it
that those that we love

do not love us in return?

I once loved a woman
who did not love me,

yet I believed that she did.

Is it not equally possible

to mistakenly feel unloved?

I am one of many.

I know no special place
in the king's heart.

The king does love you,
Lady Celia.

Why would he reveal
such intimacies to you

and not to me?

He told me nothing,
but I recognized in him

the very feelings
I myself have known.

How may I arrive
at such an understanding?

I used to look
to the constellations

for some explanation
of the mysterious turns
of my own life.

But the stars hold only part
of the answer, Lady Celia.

Now I look toward myself
and those who believed in me

and loved me for the man I was.

Now I know we have the power
to shape our own destiny.

Your voice sounds familiar.

Perhaps from some other time
in my life, when I was a child.

Yes.

Perhaps when we were children.

Sire, I am familiar
with the many symptoms
of the plague.

Lady Celia suffers
from a different illness,

a fever,
which I have treated

and from which
she will recover.

And something else -
she is with child.

Good doctor,

you have made my heart
exceeding glad.

But she is still haunted
by a profound melancholy.

It can be relieved
only by some assurance
of love.

I do believe
I understand you.

I believe I do.

But now you must
remove your headdress

and make yourself known
to us.

That, if Your Majesty
will forgive me,
I cannot do.

I only hope
I have proved useful.

(whispers)

A large part of the city
is on fire.

Boatsman!

Go in!
All right.

I must find my daughter!
Now go in closer!

(screaming and shouting)

Am I not near Cheapside?
Save yourself, sir.

Cheapside is gone!

Where am I?!
Get away from me.

What street is this?
I don't know!

Margaret!

(woman screams)

Margaret!

Someone in there.

Where am I?

Where am I?

You have come back
to Bidnold.

Will.

I remember the journey.

I think not, sir.

You were asleep
for the most part of it.

They found you 15 miles
from here,

stuck fast under a tree.

Margaret?

No word of Margaret?

Sir?

I wish you might have
known her, Will.

I had a little daughter,

the most beautiful
little girl.

I feel as though old age
has come upon me in the space
of a moment.

I fear I'm dreaming.

No, Merivel, you are awake.

Lady Celia has recovered.

She was ill, sire?
Yes, and I was led
to believe

that a colleague of yours,
a certain John Pearce,

was responsible
for her recovery.

However,
Celia thinks differently,

and her suspicions
were confirmed

when a midwife
carrying a very young child

came to our palace in search
of one Robert Merivel.

Your child, I believe?

Merivel.

I'm not mistaken,
am I, Merivel,

about your love
for this place?

No, sire.
There are here in Bidnold
certain combinations of color

I do not think exist
anywhere else in the world.

Yes, quite.

Your man Gates
sent to us and told us

that you had returned
to your house.

My house, sire?
Yes.

I am giving you Bidnold

until my reign is over
and another age comes.

What was taken from you
is restored to you

in return for the lives
you've saved

and the man
that you have become.

It is your house, Merivel,

and I shall never
take it from you.

And I have commissioned
a portrait of you.

And it shall be called
A Physician.

The fire, in its fury,
has consumed the Great Plague.

Misfortune may leave behind
unlooked-for blessings,

none dearer than you,
my little Margaret.

I will return to the city,
to my work as a doctor,

and the rebuilding
of the king's hospital.

The stars
that once confused me

seem now tonight
a path that is clear,

that I have, in truth,
been traveling for
all these days,

where I met what came
and left behind my sorrows

and am traveling still.