Original subtitles

(MAN SHOUTING)

-(WHISPERING) Catherine! What is it? -Nothing. Go to sleep!

What can you see?

Nothing.

The moonlight woke me, and I thought I heard someone calling from below.

Calling my name.

But it was only the watermen out there on the river.

Who would call your name in the middle of the night?

No one here in London.

But last summer in Horsham,

there was a young man who stood under my window night after night.

-Young man? -A beautiful young man

who swore he would die if I would not love him.

Don't you dare do that!

-No, Catherine, don't strike me again! Not again. -Be silent then!

I tell you there was a young man loved me.

And more.

One night he climbed the wall up to my room

and stayed with me through the night, all night.

And we lay together.

And he put his hands here, between my breasts, and begged me to let him look upon them.

And then?

He watched me as I stood and lifted my shift up over my head.

-He knelt down before me. He wept. -Why?

He said he'd seen nothing so beautiful as my body.

And I let him kiss and fondle me.

And all the time, he wept like a little boy, a child.

There were other nights we did such things together!

-But you would not understand. -Who was he?

I promise never to tell and I shall never see him again.

What if the Duchess had discovered you?

She found us one morning near the chapel holding each other by the hands.

She boxed my lover's ears and sent me to the chaplain for correction.

And that very night we two had lain naked in each other's arms,

heart to heart, in a room above her head.

While she snored and mumbled we two clung to each other.

Oh, to God I were back in Horsham.

-Oh, I should be afraid. -Oh, aye, so was I. But fear is part of love.

Without fear there is no true passion.

-How can you know that? You've loved but once. -I know it in my bones.

The first night when his hands were on my wrists

and I could feel his fingers gripping me so tightly I thought my arms would break,

I could see the veins in his neck stand out hard and sharp.

I was afraid. Afraid for myself, afraid the Duchess might hear us.

-Yet it was magnificent, too. -You will go to hell for thoughts like that!

Not I. I confessed to the chaplain. Old Sir Edward gave me absolution.

He took my chin in his shaking hand and prayed for me.

He dribbled!

(BOTH LAUGHING)

And could not look me in the eye. Sometimes I think he was praying for himself.

All men are brothers in the dark.

Not asleep?

Catherine! You'll surely breathe some sickness there by the window.

The river is foul and brings plague and mischief.

And here's your uncle, the Duke, below with his mother,

mother, come straight from the king.

-They wish to talk with you. -With me?

Mmm. And no time to dress yourself.

Here, cover yourself with this.

And be swift, your Uncle Norfolk is an impatient man.

You Anne Carey!

You've no business awake at this hour. Go to sleep, child.

Cover your head and say your prayers.

Ask God for a rich husband and fine, tall sons.

Ask God to make you clear-skinned and bright-eyed,

as pretty as your cousin Catherine. Come on.

Catherine Howard, my lord Duke.

You're Catherine?

Your brother Edmund's daughter. You surely remember her?

She's grown.

Summer in the country's changed her. I'd not have recognised her.

Come over here, child! Here by the fire, where I can look at you.

Lady Rochford, you may go to bed.

Oh. Oh, believe me, it's no hardship to stay.

My mother ordered you to go. Be off with you, then.

-My lord... -God's teeth, woman, are you deaf?

You're ordered to leave us. In God's name, go!

-Foolish old crow. -She has a kind heart.

That's no great quality in times like these.

What's needed is a strong heart. A hard heart.

A Howard heart. Are you a Howard child? A true Howard?

-She's stubborn enough. -By God, I swear she's pretty enough.

Fine boned.

Skin's perfect. Pale, but with a sheen to it.

Look at me, child! There. Now walk over to the stair.

She's perfect, madam. More than I expected or hoped.

Right.

Now you may wrap yourself in your cloak.

-I asked you if you were a true Howard, Catherine. -Yes, my lord.

-You know me, the first of the Howards? -Yes.

We're a remarkable family.

And I say this not from a desire to boast

or to confound anyone with empty bombast,

but because it's truth. A remarkable family.

Close knit, powerful and loyal. Above all, loyal.

When the father of our present much-loved king

cut down Richard Plantage net at Bosworth Field,

my father, your grandfather, fought upon the wrong side.

He was led before the victor and told that he championed a tyrant.

My father said, "Richard was my crowned king,

"and if the parliamentary authority of England had set the crown upon a wooden stalk,

"I would fight for that stalk.

"And as I fought for Richard, I'll fight for you,

when you are established by that same authority."

And he lived and proved his new loyalty,

as I did in my turn,

which the marks of old wounds here on my arms and shoulders must witness.

The scars of Morlaix and Brest.

I've servedthe King for many years with thoroughness,

and what is more important, with success.

And he in his turn has been generous in his gratitude.

Now, Catherine.

I would like to do him yet another service.

A service which, if successfully concluded,

must surely make His Majesty more grateful than ever before.

Which must make our family the most powerful in the land,

and which will finally rid the King of certain evil men.

Men like Cromwell, who at present fill his ears with slanders,

lies and wrong counsel.

To prosper this wish of mine to assist the King,

I need your help.

-My help? But there is nothing I can do. -Be guided by me.

I will do whatever you wish.

Your reward, Catherine, will... Will not be insignificant.

I want no reward.

What do you know of the Queen?

They saythe King dislikes her. That he is not pleased.

The King wants no more to do with her. Another divorce is in the air.

Friend Cromwell looks pale. He sweats and trembles.

The Queen was to be the key to his plan

for a grand German alliance, an anti-papal crusade.

Now that plan is in the fire and Cromwell fears that he will follow it.

The crusade is abandoned.

For the moment, and who knows how long that moment will last,

I and my few friends have the ear of the King.

We could wish for a more permanent, a more reliable opportunity.

The King's ears are filled with many whisperers.

We would have his ears, his eyes, his heart

and if possible his soul.

We'd have him find another queen.

Choose another wife, Catherine.

To speak plain we'd have him choose you!

Me! But he has never paid me any attention.

Not seen you since the spring. He has not looked on you as I look on you now.

Were he to see you now, I swear he could not fail but be enchanted by you.

Moreover you're a Howard. The Earl Marshal of England's your uncle.

Everything in life, Catherine, depends upon the moment.

One must know who, how and when.

Your moment is now! A month ago too soon, a month's time too late.

For you the stars are perfect now!

You bring no devious foreign entanglement as part of your dowry.

You seem strong and healthy. Fit to bear a fine male heir.

There is rumour the prince will not live to succeed.

But your son would have my blood in him.

He would be a Howard.

Hmm. You say nothing.

Does the thought of becoming queen not please you?

Or is there some young man lurking in your mind?

-Is there? The girl's not known? -No one! There is no one.

There were a couple of young admirers last summer in Horsham.

-They meant nothing to me! -A scholar, Francis Dereham,

and a teacher of music, one Mannox, they pestered Catherine.

I had to box Dereham's ears and dismiss Mannox.

They were nothing!

-You swear to that. -By all I hold dear and holy.

You relish the thought of becoming queen, then?

It frightens me.

-My cousin Anne Boleyn was queen. -She was foolish and reckless.

She ignored the advice of those who could have helped, even saved her.

She deserved to die.

Think no more of her. Think instead of the splendours, the powers,

the rich clothes, fine jewels.

Women to wait on you, noblemen to kneel to youand a king to love you.

-But will he love me? -I know the King. He must love you.

-Will you be ruled by me? -Yes.

Now and after?

Yes.

Then go now to your bed.

I'll send for you tomorrow.

Bless you, Catherine.

Do you think she understood one word of what I was saying?

-She understood you want to make her queen. -So I will.

Does she understand what that means?

How can she? She's so very young.

Poor innocent.

Was it really the Duke? What did he want of you?

-'Tis late. Go to sleep. -I cannot sleep.

I keep thinking of the young man at Horsham. How he wept.

How you let him into your bed.

Never let me hear you say that again. Do you hear? Never!

If you do so much as whisper anything to anybody, I swear I shall poison you.

Swear to keep silence?

-Swear? -Mmm.

(GROANING)

This ulcer bites into my leg like the teeth of a dog!

No improvement, Your Majesty?

The ointments do nothing. They dry the sore but a day or two.

And the poison's working on me all the time.

It's there as foul and malicious as ever it was.

I can stomach the pain, Norfolk, but the need of sitting all day in a chair

with my legs swaddled in bandages is my real enemy.

I'm bored, Norfolk. Sick and worn at doing nothing.

No sport, no hunting, nothing!

Gloomy surgeons with long faces and no remedies.

Oh, I feel old, Norfolk.

Oh, but Your Majesty will surely enjoy many years yet.

Save me that. You sound like Cromwell.

You're simply fretting because your wound keeps you idle. You need some new interest.

-But what? -A new occupation.

A new face. You've surrounded yourself with surgeons far too long.

And we others, your councillors and courtiers, you've seen too much of us.

Believe me, Your Majesty, I hate being sealed up here in London almost as much as you.

-I sometimes pray for a good war! -Uh?

A commission to go and hang a few rebels

or knock loyalty into some arrogant and ambitious Scot!

But failing a campaign, the best remedy, nay the only remedy,

is a woman!

No. No, not again.

Cromwell's last blunder has cured me of women.

-The very thought sets my leg throbbing. -Hear my out, Your Majesty.

My only comfort is that the divorce will be swift and uncomplicated.

Cromwell forced that German woman on you for his own devious policy.

You had no need of an anti-papal alliance. All the world respects and fears us!

For the first time in many years your people are enjoying the rich blessings of peace.

And under your guidance they work and sleep secure,

with no dreams of domestic rebellions or foreign wars to disturb them.

You have no need to make a political marriage.

At long last you're perfectly free to marry for other motives. Personal motives.

You truly need a woman, someone to love and care for you.

-Someone to nurse and comfort you. -Mmm.

Your grim-faced surgeons will never heal you,

but a tender and compassionate girl would do more good than a hundred surgeons.

-And where am I to find such a paragon? -Well, look about you!

You've your whole kingdom to choose from.

-Invite some fresh people to court. Young people. -Mmm.

Rid yourself of the old and the miserable. Banish the ugly. Banish Somers there.

Banish me!

(ALL LAUGHING)

Why, only last night I saw such a girl here in London.

A sweet child of... Oh, I suppose barely 17.

Fresh froma summer in the country.

Just to look at her made me feel 10 years younger.

Your kingdom's ripe with such girls.

And, uh, who was she?

My brother Edmund's daughter.

-Oh, yes? -Catherine.

She was at court last year.

But in these past few months, a miracle's happened.

She's blossomed. Changed from a pretty girl

into an enchanting young woman. A transfiguration, Your Majesty.

Mind you, I'm only a soldier. The beauty of women has meant little to me.

I may be overpraising her.

Well, let me be judge of that, eh?

Let her come to court again.

-Your Majesty. -Soon.

Your Majesty!

The surgeons will do well to ignore your leg.

-Why? -Then they could cut open your head

and look into your brain.

A fifth wife? It's your wits that are rotten and not your leg.

-I said nothing of marriage. -Oh, the Duke certainly meant marriage.

The girl's one of his tribe, a Howard. And what's worse, she's young.

-She'll have no time for me. -No.

No. The young don't need fools to make them laugh.

(LAUGHING)

(NORFOLK CHUCKLING)

Too solemn! When you meet the King, remember to smile.

And smile when you rise from your genuflection.

That's it. Don't be afraid of him. Smile!

You've every reason to be brave. You already look like a queen.

I would he'd seen you as I first did.

The gown is magnificent, madam, but it does makeher look older.

More knowing, less vulnerable. But no matter.

Come now to Whitehall.

I am certain it is less noxious now, Your Majesty.

Then your nose is as useless as your skill.

There, even Somers has more knowledge. I say there's no change.

The poison is as malevolent as ever it was.

I fear that to drain it again would only anger the wound.

And I say to leave it as it is makes no sense!

God's wounds, you'll not be satisfied till my whole leg is poisoned!

Then you'll rub your hands eagerly enough, eh?

I say cut now and drain the poison.

Or do I have to be my own surgeon? Here! Swiftly, man!

Be quick about it.

God!

(GROANING)

Cut is made, Your Majesty.

The poison is draining free.

The pain will ease now.

Who is there by the door? Oh, Norfolk.

Yes, Your Majesty. My niece, Catherine.

Oh. Oh, come closer, girl. Here, stand by me.

Yes, I remember you.

Your uncle tells the truth, you have changed and grown up.

It's generous of you, Catherine, to visit an old, sick man.

Old? But you are surely younger than my uncle here,

and he is not old, Your Majesty.

Hmm? Well, the Earl Marshal has lived a healthy Spartan life.

Long campaigns, months at sea, he's not had to carry my burden of care.

Politics makes a man into a shadow.

You seem broad and strong enough to me, Your Majesty.

Perhaps it is only your wound that depresses you at the moment.

Oh, if you'd seen me as a young man,

there was not my equal in all England for strength or for skill at arms

and other talents.

Look at me now, tied to a chair like a useless old woman.

Oh, the devil take your clumsy fingers!

I'll have your hands lopped off at the elbows if they can't learn tenderness.

The surgeon would surely make an excellent executioner.

To sever a head with a knife would take longer than a headman's axe.

And you hold your tongue or I'll have these butchers cut it out of your head.

Let me finish this work. I think these gentlemen are afraid of you.

-And you are not? -No, why should I be?

You must tell me where the core of the wound is, or is the whole leg inflamed?

It's there where the linen is stained.

It should be washed and soothed with oils of herbs.

-Ah. -If I could send to the gardens at Horsham...

-I'm not binding the linen too tightly? -No, no, no.

But there's no need to trouble the Duchess of Norfolk's gardener,

you can have whatever you need from my gardens at Hampton.

With respect, I doubt very much...

Oh, these fools prescribed richer ointments.

This morning they suggested the paste of ground pearls.

-No! Marjoram and lady's mantle. -Yes.

They will help in the healing. And then marigold. That is to ease the scab.

If you press the leaves, you'll find a soft, sweet-smelling oil.

Lady Rochford says that to look at the oil is enough,

it drives away all evil humours.

She cured a stable boy once who cut his thigh on a scythe.

His wound was healed in a week.

There.

The gardens are most wonderful at Hampton.

I saw them last spring.

Would you like to visit them again?

I could perhaps talk to the gardeners and find those herbs

which might help Your Majesty's leg.

And so you shall.

And what is more, we shall come with you.

-We will go tomorrow. -But Your Majesty's leg.

Oh, to the devil with my leg. I swear to heaven, it feels stronger already.

I will walk through my gardens with you, Catherine,

or turn monk and eat stewed fish and sing psalms for the rest of my days.

(BOTH LAUGHING)

-Your Majesty, we consider it most... -I will walk!

(GRUNTING)

Catherine, give me your hand.

(GRUNTING)

(MUSIC PLAYING)

So many lights.

The river is like fire.

They say the King has commanded music and dancing every night this past week.

Old Thomas Mortimer fell dead of apoplexy last night.

Fell under the banqueting table and was only discovered this morning.

Oh, I shall be happy to leave this gloomy house.

-Why must you go? -Oh, cousin Catherine has sent for me,

and her request is a command these days.

Tomorrow she will be the Queen of England.

Oh, I promise I will talk to her.

A few more months and I'm sure she'll send for you to come to court and wait on her.

And will I have fine gowns and jewels too, like Catherine?

Indeed, you will. The King is young again and giddy.

I saw the jewels he's given Catherine.

And one brooch has 30 diamonds

and more than 50 rubies set in it, all edged with pearl.

And tomorrow for the wedding, she's to receive a truly magnificent gift.

-More jewels? -No, much, much better.

-What, then? -The head of Cromwell.

At the very hour of the marriage ceremony,

-Cromwell is to be taken from the Tower to Tyburn. -Tyburn? Why to Tyburn?

Cromwell is of common origin. He is to die amongst his own kind.

Poor man. I wonder if he can hear the music up there in the Tower.

He will never hear music again.

"To me you have been most bountiful, more like a father than a master.

"I ask mercywhere I have offended, but I have done my best.

"No one can justly accuse me of having done wrong wilfully.

"I acknowledge myself amiserable sinner

toward God and Your Majesty, but never wilfully.

"Written at the Tower this 27th day of July with a heavy heart and trembling hand

"of Your Highness's most heavy and most miserable prisoner and poor slave,

"Thomas Cromwell.

"Most gracious prince, I cry for mercy, mercy, mercy."

You think I look like a bridegroom, hmm? Eh?

Magnificent, Your Majesty.

That villain of a barber cut my cheek this morning.

Look, as peck of blood here on the silk.

I see nothing.

Perhaps I should teach my Catherine to shave me?

Her hands are so gentle, her touch so tender,

she could surely put all the barbers and surgeons in England out of office.

A perfect girl. My rose without a thorn.

There's not a man wholoves you who doesn'tenvy you, Your Majesty.

-Many a young man will get drunk tonight, eh? -They will be happy for you.

And not a little jealous.

God knows, Norfolk, I tell you, I am as nervous as a green boy.

My hands are trembling at the thought of my Catherine's sweet, young body.

There'll be no long feasting tonight, I promise you.

I want that girl more than anything in my whole life.

She must havethe lordships and manors I gave to Jane.

Your generosity to my niece is most bountiful, Your Majesty.

Yes. For your own services, I've decided to name you Lord Treasurer,

-also LordLieutenant of the North. -Majesty.

And to replace Cromwell, your cousin Sussex shall be Great Chamberlain.

And for Lord Privy Seal...

Might I suggest the Earl of Southampton, Majesty? A firm ally, to both of us.

Mmm, excellent choice. What time is it now?

Patience, Your Majesty. Another hour.

And we shall both be satisfied, no doubt.

There's no need to brood longer on this.

Both lands and properties shall be given to Catherine.

Most generous.

Hoping for them yourself, were you? Hmm?

Be satisfied with his head. You've worked for it long enough.

Well, I'm not certain about these silver slashings.

I think I prefer the white and crimson satin.

Somers, fetch my servants. I still have time to change.

Oh, would to God it were night.

Lift your head, child,

the clasp is difficult to secure.

Your hands are shaking.

I'm thinking that the... The next personto touch this chain

and finger your pretty throat will be the King himself.

But how cold you are. Your skin is like ice.

I took no wine today and I could not bring myself to eat.

The King will warm you soon enough.

He's a very Turk with women.

You'll find little rest tonight, my angel.

I envy you.

My husband now, God rest his soul,

was a poor preacher with little blood in him.

On our wedding night, he was on his knees, praying to the Lord for a son.

I told him the way to ensure the son was not to pray to the Lord,

but to save his breath for his wife.

But he went on, crossing himself and protesting.

And the Lord rewarded him with ague pains in the chest and the legs.

Ah, your husband will not waste time praying,I promise you.

I watched him during the ceremony.

He could hardly bear to keep himself from caressing you there and then

in front of the clergy, the court and even the Archbishop.

Do you think he really loves me?

Oh, His Majesty is besotted.

You could ask him anything at this moment and he'd not refuse you.

And I pray he'll be of the same mind tomorrow morning.

Amen to that.

Let him do as he wants, child.

The King has left his room. He has dismissed his guard.

Close the door. When His Majesty knocks,

wait till I tell you before you open to admit him.

Hurry, now!

(RAUCOUS LAUGHTER OUTSIDE)

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

Wait till I tell you!

HENRY: Catherine!

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

Very well. Now you may open the door.

CATHERINE: I thank you.

We will not need you more, Thomas.

-Nor any of you. You may leave us. -Good night, Your Majesties.

God save the King.

I am sure Your Majesty has no further need of any aid, human or divine.

I thought you beautiful that morning your uncle brought you to me.

And when you and I first walked through the gardens at Hampton Court,

and again today when we stood together before the Archbishop,

you were magnificent.

But now,

when I see you like this,

with your hair loose about your throat,

the sight of you hurts my heart.

You are the most perfect possession I have ever owned.

Perfect in yourself alone, you need no jewels to compliment you.

You are perfection.

Let me see you.

Let me...

look on you.

You shall have all the diamonds, pearls,

rubies and gold that you wish.

But for the moment,

let me look on you as you are

without even your shift to hide you.

(CATHERINE GIGGLING)

(GROANING)

You should go to your bed and sleep, Master Culpeper.

Too late and too drunk.

I'm sure there'll be no need for any gentleman of the King's household

to present himself at duty before noon.

She cannot be more than 18.

-You arereferring to the Queen? -Yes.

Were she 25, she would still be too young for the King.

I excuse you, Master Culpeper, because you're plainly drunk,

but watch your tongue.

Statements like that have the reek of treason about them.

Oh, no, not treason. Forgive me, my lord, we are all jealous.

-We? -We who attend on the King,

we who see the Queen and are envious.

I never understand you young gentleman of the court. Never did.

But then when I was your age, I was serving with my father against the Scots.

I'd no time to lurk in palace corridors and sigh for young women.

Too occupied keeping alive.

What you need, Master Culpeper, is a long, hard campaign in a cold climate.

I would to God there was a war. Believe me, my lord, I'd raise a company tomorrow

for France or Ireland or even against the Turk.

But in these miserable days of peace, what else can a young man do

but mope after women and drink too much?

Oh, for a crusade!

(CLEARS THROAT)

(SNIFFING)

There's a glimmer of dawn beyond the Tower and a smell of rain.

There's one among us who'll not notice the sun rise or heed the rain.

-The King? -No, I was thinking of Cromwell.

They've spiked hishead over London Bridge.

The officers were ordered to set his face to the east,

towards the sun and away from the palace,

so that he should not spy on the King's wedding night.

Not that he'll see for very long. The crows will soon be at work on his eyes.

-Catherine. -For a moment I was afraid.

-I could not see your face. -You were deep in sleep.

-Dreaming? -I thought I wasback in Horsham.

-Ah. No nightmares, then. -No.

I was watching you for an hour or more.

-Once, I thought you were about to cry out. You... -I said nothing?

As I was watching you, I...

-I was composing a speech. -Speech? Something serious?

-Something of state? -A speech for you.

An explanation...

Almost an apology.

And that is difficult for me. Kings seldom need to apologise.

Catherine, I...

I fear I disappointed you last night.

You would understand, I think, that that is a hard admission for me to make.

Henry, the King, famous throughout Europe for his bull strength and goat capacity,

husband to four wives.

And now, when othermen are at their prime,

suddenly humbledby a girl of 17.

Humbled, unmanned, and with no reason.

For you were as gentle, as tender,

vulnerable as any man could desire, and as loving.

But I could do nothing.

I was as useless as... King David with the Shunammite woman.

-Yet he was an old man! -She comforted and nursed him.

But he knew her not.

My Lord, I have little experience of the world.

I love and honour you. To see you content is my dearest wish.

I know nothing of what happens between man and wife.

Oh, come now. You're young, but you must surely know

that a fresh husband is expected to do more than just look at his bride.

Lady Rochford's husband spent the night in prayer.

Had I been Lady Rochford's husband, I would have done the same.

(CATHERINE LAUGHING)

-You're spoiling my text. -Because I think you're making

-a great to do about nothing. -Indeed?

-And who are you to criticise the King? -His wife.

To me, everything is perfectly simple.

You have been ill, my lord, dangerously ill.

Until your leg was properly nursed, you had been months in your chair.

And now these last weeks you have been as boisterous and as busy as a schoolboy,

dancing, wrestling, hunting.

Lord, I swear it has been a cruel time for your courtiers and servants

just to keep pace with you.

-You think that's... -I know it.

I see them yawning behind their hands when you have only just begun to rouse yourself.

Had I seen them, I would have beaten them awake.

Now you're spoiling my text.

Forgive me.

You have only recently recovered your full health and strength.

You did not love me last night,

but in a day or two all will be well, and what matter if it takes longer?

I am content. I am happier than I have ever been. I trust you.

I only want to please you.

'Tis not for you to apologise to me, it is for me to be grateful to you.

I honour you above all men,

now and forever.

And I am suddenly hungry.

-Now I am Queen, I suppose I can do as I like. -Anything.

Then I shall command Lady Rochford to bring me a great dish of cold fowl,

fresh bread and a whole basket of strawberries.

-Do you think she'll be angry? It's only just dawn. -Oh, and if she is angry,

one black look and I'll send her to the Tower.

God's wounds, I swear that I too am hungry, very hungry.

We'll wake Lady Rochford, we'll wake my gentlemen,

my stewards, my cooks. We'll wake the whole palace.

Well, hello there!

Officers of the guard!

Eh, Culpeper! Rouse yourself, boy.

Be sharp and swift. A matter of great importance.

(HENRY LAUGHING)

But you'll not be needing your sword, boy,

it isn't sharp enough to jointa chicken or chip bread.

The Queen is hungry.

Here, my angel. Everything His Majesty commanded.

Cold fowl, strawberries. Mmm, fresh-baked bread.

Take it away.

Take it all away!

(CRYING)

Angel, what is it now?

Oh, what has distressed you so?

Oh, come. Come here.

Come here, let me comfort you.

There, now,

tell me what it is, my poor darling little girl.

There, there.

Your heart will break, my angel. What is it, now? Tell me, tell me.

-I cannot. Last night... -But dearest, you must.

Who else can you tell?

I've cared for you for three years now. Cared for you and loved you.

You are the dearest soul in the world to me. No one could love you as I do.

-He called me his Shunammite. -Lord have mercy.

He tried to tell me about King David and Abishag.

What are you saying, child?

I did as you told me. I let him do as he wanted.

I laid down on the bed, lifted my arms to him, invited him to lie down beside me.

And he threw off his clothes and held me for a moment,

then stroked and caressed me with his hands.

-He... He was gentle. -Yes.

But he seemed to be continually at a distance,

as if he were afraid to hold me in his arms for very long, as if my

skin were made of fire.

And it was only then that I dared look at him. I was appalled.

I had notrealised how old he was.

Oh, I'd bathed and bandaged his ulcered leg,

I'd seen him tired and evil-tempered at the end of a long day,

but to see him there

without his satins and golds...

His very skin is old, yellowing, scarred, loosened, coarse.

He is ugly!

His breath is stale. He has no grace any more.

I had seen him dressed like a king,

standing proudly and magnificently before his court.

And I could believe that here was a man who was truly a king,

who could ride and hunt and fight all day.

I had imagined there was still the body of a Hercules beneath the satins and golds.

But it's not true.

There's only the hulk of an old, fat man.

-You must have patience,child. -How can I?

I have given myself to a sick, old, impotent man. I am condemned to a mock marriage.

I might as well take vows as a nun or become the bride of a ghost!

Your Majesty.

-What is it? -Your Majesty.

I...

I am commanded by His Majesty to ask if you would graciously be present

at the audience to the ambassadors of the Knights of St John at Malta at noon.

Tell His Majesty I shall be honoured to salute the representatives

of so holy and gallant an order

at noon.

Thank you, Master Culpeper.

He has a fine swagger about him, as if he hadn't a care in the world.

He is a handsome boy.He'll break many a heart before he's much older.

He reminds me of... Oh, well. No matter.

We would ask you to convey to your Grand Prior

our earnest promise of goodwill

and our hopes that he and his gallant brothers in God

will long continue to defy the Ottoman powers.

Here, come sit by me.

I shall need your beauty to charm these good envoys of the Grand Prior,

or they will bleed me dry.

We ask only for restoration of that which is rightly ours,

or compensation. Money and men.

The situation of our garrison at Malta is critical. Our galleys bring certain reports

that the Turkish power is assembling in every port in the east.

Its destination must surely be Malta,

and its purpose can only be the destruction of the Knights of St John.

Our need is for money.

Money for arms, for labour and materials for fortification,

for artillery, for galleys.

And we need men, men to use those arms, guard the fortification

and fight the galleys.

Huh?

-Francis Dereham. -Majesty.

Leave us alone.

Look at me.

You've grown fat.

Last summer... Was it really last summer?

Then you had the look of a saint.

The skin was stretched over the bones of your face like

the carving of the dying Saint Sebastian.

Last year I was Saint Sebastian,

shot through with arrows and near to diefor love of a girl.

Now the agony has vanished?

I had to banishthe whole thought of herout of my mind.

That was wise,Master Dereham, politic.

Be sure she continues to stay out of your mind. That girl is no more.

-As lost as Saint Sebastian? -We understand each other.

-Yet I shall find silence difficult. -What do you mean?

I cannot rid my mind of you. Not a single night passes when I'm not dreaming of you,

hardly a moment of the day when I'm not thinking of you.

-You in my arms. -You corrupted me.

Oh, you willing and eager to be corrupted,

but it's not a word I would have chosen myself.

The summer was magic for me, too innocent to be sinful.

-But treasonable. -Only because you are now the Queen.

You must swear to be discreet. No one must ever know.

My absolute discretion and continued silence

-could be made certain. -Surely.

I could have you poisoned or order your throat cut.

-But then people would ask why. -What, then, do you want?

I would be honoured to serve you.

How? My household is complete.

It is reported that you have not yet appointed a private secretary.

-You? -Oh, I am skilled in Latin and French.

I am trustworthy. I'd make a very good secretary.

Alas, Francis, I fear you would.

Attend the court tomorrow, I will give you my decision then.

I'm grateful, Your Majesty. Truly grateful.

Oh, Lady Rochford.

Lord, Lord, to think that once upon a time,

I would have faced hellfire for a touch of his little finger

for that Saint Sebastian.

Now a plump clerk skilled in Latin.

-You'll not appoint him secretary? -You were listening?

Only heard the word "secretary". Anyway, I can

hold my tongue to keep my head.

And so must he.

Gently, Thomas!

Take me to the bed.

(GROANING)

One would think the villainous brute had kicked me rather than fallen on me!

-Shall I send for your surgeons, Your Majesty? -No, no, where's the Queen?

-Oh, Your Majesty, Your Majesty, you're hurt. -His Majesty fell.

Well, His Majesty's horse slipped in the mud and fell.

-Yes, fell on me. -Not your leg!

-No, Catherine, it's my shoulder. -Let me see it.

Your hunting sword, Master Culpeper.

Oh, I'll have the brute slaughtered and fed to the dogs!

(GROANING)

-No bones broken. -Are you certain of that?

Certain, but you'll not be riding for a week or more. You must lie back on the bed.

Master Culpeper, help me, if you please.

-Send this man away. -Who, Somers?

Send him away, I do not want him near me.

But he's my buffoon. He's supposed to make me laugh.

He never makes me laugh, he disturbs me. In truth, I would have him whipped and banished.

Leave us.

I hate him! I never want to see his sly face again.

As you wish. I'm in pain, I won't argue with you.

Lady Rochford, I shall need a basin of hot water, sufficient linen for a poultice

-and some hypericum to draw the bruise. -HENRY: And bring some wine!

-Hypericum? -St John's wort,

a wildflower with a slender stem and bright yellow flowers.

We make a tincture from it, which is the surest remedy for an outward bruise.

There, Thomas, and you wanted me to send for my surgeons.

They would haveshaken their heads and prescribed leeches.

St John's wort sounds far pleasanter, Majesty.

And what about the nurse, eh?

I would I had fallen if I had been certain of such a nurse to attend me.

You will go now, Master Culpeper.

Your Majesty.

You were harsh with Somers, Catherine, and cruel to that young man.

Because he is foolish. I do not care for empty compliments.

-Lie still now. -Where's the wine?

(SCREAMING)

Take care, woman! Do you want to burn a hole in me?

Lie back now.

-You will stay with me? -For a little, until you are asleep.

-You need complete rest. -Yes.

You'll be sooner recovered if you are undisturbed. Lie back now.

-Master Culpeper? -Well?

I'm ordered by the Queen to return this to you.

-Nothing else? -What else should there be?

No message of thanks?

Not that I can remember, I was simply instructed to return the sword.

Oh, there was no real need.

I suspect we shall have little enough hunting for the present, if ever again.

-The King is recovering. -I was riding withhim when he fell.

He blamed his horse. The true blame lay with the rider.

He's not able to sit a saddle all day any more.

Yesterday, he bruised his shoulder. Next time, he could well break his back.

If the Queen does not break it for him first.

Tread softly, Master Secretary. The Queen is divinity to me.

Then you're a poor, foolish mortal. Divinity!

I shall not caution you again!

Oh, come, man, open your eyes. The Queen is a woman just as you're a man.

She feels, suffers, laughs, eats, drinks, functions,

dislikes and desires just as any other woman.

You speak as though you shared some secret with her.

-I do. -You, a secretary?

I knew her before she came to court.

Last year in Horsham, I was in her company daily,

and I swear to you, Master Culpeper, I know her well.

Your brain is rotted with too much scholarship.

Sneer if you wish, but I speak the truth.

-Well, I say you lie! -Tush, man, why shouldn't I speak the truth?

The summer nights were long. I was bold and nimble enough to climb a wall,

and the girl was hot, eager and curious. I merely politely obliged.

What are you thinking?

I'm thinking I shall cut off your lips before you speak any more blasphemy.

Be sensible, Master Culpeper.

Shall I inform the Queen of your humble gratitude

in her graciously returning you your hunting sword?

-Say what you will. -Then I shall tell Her Majesty

that I found you disturbingly pale.

That in my opinion, Master Culpeper is sick in love,

but that I can suggest no possible remedy for it.

For there is no remedy. You will have to burn, Master Culpeper.

Burn! Just as I do!

Do you think the secretary was speaking the truth?

I thought he was boasting of an imaginary relationship to try and impress me,

or perhaps to rouse me to jealousy, but when he left me, his last words were spoken

with such bitterness, such real agony, that I came near to believing him.

Whether imagination or reality, it was equally foolish and dangerous.

But that's why I came to you, my lord, and not to the King.

Above all, I want nothing to harm the Queen.

And since you are her kinsman, and the King's first councillor...

Yes, you acted wisely.

I am inclined to think that your first opinion of this secretary

is probably the more accurate.

I have my mother's word, and the word of that of the Queen herself

that there was no history of any previous entanglement.

I take their word rather than that of Dereham's.

But what if he should repeat the slander?

Oh, there will be no repetition.

I shall speak to the Queen tomorrow.

I deny every detail of my secretary's foul story.

I shall have him repeat it before the King and see his head on London Bridge

-before he's a day older. -Why trouble the King?

Take my advice and send your secretary away for a while.

Let him visit your many estates and take inventories,

or whatever it is secretaries are supposed to do.

Keep him occupied and away from court for half a year or so.

-I would prefer him silenced forever. -Then people would ask why.

-I've heard that argument before. -Oh? Who from?

-And what if Dereham repeats his lies to others? -I do not think he will.

I understand this whole dangerous but foolish business was only occasioned

because of some youthful quarrel or rivalry.

I'll make sure the secretary's cautioned before he leaves the court.

Is it not possible for some accident to overtake him on his journey?

But you told me this story was imagined.

Why, then, are you so afraid?

Or is this story a lie? Answer me.

-You have no right to question me this way. -I have every right.

Had it not been for my ambition for you,

you'd still be an unknown girl in my mother's household.

I made you Queen, Catherine, and I can unmake you just as easily.

Remember your cousin Anne. Her neck was just as pretty and just as slender as yours.

She ignored the advice of her family and she died on the block.

Now then, tell me the truth.

My mother listed two names, Dereham and Mannox.

She dismissed the friendships as innocent. Were they innocent?

In spirit, yes. I never dreamed of marrying the King!

You swore to me that you were innocent!

The King believed you to be untouched!

Now I must understand that Dereham was not lying.

-That you were lovers. -Yes.

-What of Mannox? -We were never lovers.

-What then? -He once or twice kissed and caressed me.

How many people knew of your relation with these two young men?

Nobody knew, some may have guessed.

I should imagine every servant girl and stable boy in the house.

I can silence one man, I can't silence a wholehouse full of servants.

Then what am I to do?

Confess everything to the King before he learns anything from somebody else?

-Beg him on my knees to forgive me? -Oh, come now.

You have been close to him long enough to know that above all things he is vain.

He must never know.

Or if he is to know,you must be in suchan impregnable position

-that no former scandal can harm you. -How?

-Give him a son. -Impossible.

-But why impossible? -He is incapable.

-I cannot believe it. -Nor will he.

He sleeps with me, lies with me as a husband does with a wife,

but I am certain he can be no more to me than King David was to Abishag.

He can never give me a child. I can never have the protection of a son.

No, not his son.

What do you mean?

When you lied to me, and through me to the King,

you committed yourself, Catherine.

You committed yourself rather as a soldier who commits himself to battle.

There are only two conclusions, victory or death.

My advice to you, the advice of a seasoned and successful soldier,

is to place yourself in a defensive position

-with a son upon your knee. -But the danger...

As you now stand, one danger looks much like another.

But who?

That, I should have thought, would be the least of your problems.

Two young men and the King of England, all within the space of a year,

would seem to me to indicate a remarkable talent. Make use of it.

By my part, I cannot help you.

I, alas, am a simple soldier. No skill in bedroom intrigue.

You must fight this battle yourself.

But be sure you win. Nowadays, war is a dedicated affair.

No ransom. No general pardon.

To the victor, the glory. To the loser, the axe.

And now, my angel. So silent?

When you are old, do you often think on death?

More than when I was young.

Then I never bothered with thoughts of the life to come.

But now you think of it.

At night, when the Lord in his wisdom reminds me of mortality.

Another grey hair or the pain in my bones when the East wind blows.

Is it so terrible to die?

To die young would be sad.

How pitiful to go into the next world knowing nothing of this one.

-Such ignorance, such waste. -Is this world worth knowing?

I believe so, my angel, especially for someone like you.

A queen, beautiful, adored.

If I were to die adored and beautiful, men would write epitaphs to me.

In Latin, Greek, French and English, but you wouldn't read them.

So, let me hear no more of epitaphs and deaths.

Smile. Think on the pleasant things in life.

-Your Majesty. -Well?

Master Culpeper is in the anteroom.

-He wishes to speak with you. -At this hour?

-Let him come in. -Here, to the bedroom?

Do as I say.

-'Tis very late, Master Culpeper. -I have been with the King.

-I left the King atsupper three hours ago. -He is still at supper.

The hall was hot and the wine strong.

He has fallen asleep at the table?

-Yes. -Then why come to me?

It is the third time in as many days. Surely you know what to do by now.

His face was very flushed and his breathing seemed to be difficult.

Then leave him in his chair.

Lady Rochford,

go down to the hall, let some of his guard lash their pikes under his chair,

and let them carry him to his own apartments.

-Not here. -No.

You understand me, Lady Rochford.

-Yes, Majesty. -Then do as I say. Go.

Master Culpeper, stay.

-I wish you to do me a service. -Whatever you will.

-The King trusts you. -I am happy to think so.

I am certain he does.

He has spoken of your devotion many times, and always with feeling.

He is pleased to have the affection and company of a younger man.

I try to be of use.

You are with the King more frequently than any other gentleman of the household.

Why, I suspect you see more of him than even I do.

Therefore, I would be obliged to you, Master Culpeper,

if you could see your way to being more conscious of the King's age and health.

Your prowess in the field and at the table are a constant reminder to him

of his own powers when he was your age.

He is determined to keep pace with you,

and in so doing, he is near to killing himself.

-I would not have that happen for the world. -Nor I, Majesty.

Then for my sake, remember his age and try to curb yourself.

Lord, you must forgive me, Master Culpeper.

I am lecturing you like an old schoolmaster,

and here I am, only a year out of the school room.

Yet in that year, I have learnt more than is in all the libraries of Europe.

I feel as old and as wise as a desert hermit.

And as alone.

-London is no desert. -It is to me.

I don't understand.

You're surrounded by friends, by servants, by every luxury,the King worships you.

But everything is so remote. Nothing really touches me.

My friends must not be too familiar for I am the Queen.

The King worships me, but I want more than that.

God, I am at a distance from life.

I do not want to be stared at as if I were a cold, marble statue.

I do not want to be adored as if I were the image of a dead saint.

Give me your hand.

Is my shoulder cold like marble,

dead like a wooden image?

No, it is warm and alive like your hand.

(DOOR OPENING)

Have my orders been obeyed, Lady Rochford?

It took eight officers of the guard to carry His Majesty in the chair.

You may be needed.

And remember your promise to me,

not to encourage His Majesty in his attempts to keep pace with you.

His well being is as dear to my heart as it is to yours.

God give you good night, Master Culpeper.

Good night, Majesty.

Master Culpeper managed to take your mind offdeaths and epitaphs?

He cheered me wonderfully.

He's a handsome, gallant gentleman.

Afraid of nothing, I would think.

You'll be alone in your bed tonight, angel.

Your husband will sleep sound.

Unless he wakes to vomit a gallon or so of wine.

He reeks like an innkeeper.

He reminds me of the knight in the tale of the death of Arthur,

-he who loved the Queen. -Not the...

-No, Thomas Culpeper. -Oh.

You'll leave tomorrow,

and be in Lincoln in time to meet the King on his return from a visit to York.

You'll take charge of certain documents and reports

which you'll personally deliver to His Majesty.

You'll then return here to London with the King's replies and orders.

The Queen travels to Hatfield tomorrow.

Yes, she's to meet the King there.

I had hoped to have the honour of escorting Her Majesty to Hatfield.

Well, perhaps the King will ask you to return by way of Hatfield.

There's been an extraordinary stream of messages and presents for her

ever since the King set out on his northern progress.

One of the letters that you'll be carrying is from the Grand Prior of the Order of St John.

-Another request for money and men. -Above all for men.

I remember the conversation that we had. You were rather drunk at the time.

We were examining possible outlets for a young man's energy.

You were looking for a crusade.

Well, what better causethan that of the gallant Knights of St John?

Defenders of Christianity against the heathen Ottomite.

Or have you now decided to stay safe and secure at home?

I have decided to stay here at court, my lord.

-Safe and secure. -I suppose it must appear so.

Very well, Master Culpeper, the correspondence for the King will be delivered to you

shortly after dawn tomorrow morning. My officer will bring them to you.

-I shall be ready. -Excellent. That will be all for the moment.

-Stanton. -My lord?

Watch Culpeper. Go after him now. See where he goes, what he does.

I want a full account of every minute between now and when he leaves

-for Lincoln tomorrow morning. -I understand.

(TAPPING ON DOOR)

All is well, my angels.

I shall return an hour before dawn.

Till then, God bless and preserve you both.

(CATHERINE AND CULPEPER LAUGHING)

It's three months since the King returned to London.

My information is that the Queen shows no signs of pregnancy,

but that her liaison with Culpeper is daily becoming more

reckless and increasingly obvious.

Have you warned her, or spoken to the young man?

-I am not supposed to know. -You encouraged it.

I advised her.She was through her own fault in grave danger.

I suggested a possible remedy.

-Every bit as dangerous. -I agree, but there was no alternative.

If she could have gone to the King and announced she was carrying a child,

then no rumour could have affected her.

But now, not only are the stories

of her escapades at Horsham known to half the court,

but people are beginning to talk about Culpeper.

And the King?

Oh, he's as blind and as much in love with her as ever.

He's even thinking of possible promotion for the man who's cuckolding him.

How and when do they manage to meet?

Lady Rochford is a natural pander.

If Argus himself were to guard the Queen's apartments,

she'd still find a wayto smuggle the young man to the Queen's bed.

What's to be done?

If the Queen is to fall through her own rash behaviour,

she must not bring us down with her.

Our collective security is my first consideration.

The safety of the Howards is my primary duty.

(FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING)

-What is it, Stanton? -My Lord Duke, my lady.

Well?

-What news from Horsham? -Horsham?

I ordered my officer, Master Stanton here, to make certain inquiries.

-I fear I was too late for any inquiries, my lord. -What do you mean?

Others had been there before me on much the same errand.

A priest and two gentlemen, servants of the Archbishop.

-What did they discover? -They questioned Anne Carey.

-Also one John Lascelles. -Who?

Lascelles' sister-in-law is a woman called Mary Hall.

A servant of mine at Horsham. One of her duties was to attend on Catherine.

They took sworn depositions from Anne Carey, Lascelles and Hall.

The priest returned to Canterbury and the gentlemen set out to Winchester.

I believe they're looking for the Queen's secretary, Francis Dereham.

-I shall speak to the King tonight. -And Catherine?

I can do nothing.

If I shirk from telling the King, he will surely learn it from the Archbishop.

I must be first.

It breaks my heart to have to tell you of her infamy, Your Majesty.

I feel a heavy burden of guilt. But for me, you might never have seen her.

-Would to God I had not. -I believed her chaste.

So she surely seemed to all the world.

So young, so beautiful, yet so corrupt.

You must not blame yourself, Norfolk, we were all blind.

This news has broken me, Your Majesty.

No, no, I shall need all your strength to help me.

I should be angry.

I should be terrible in my revenge, but strangely, I am only perplexed.

I called her my rose without a thorn. She was my young and gentle girl.

Her hands soothed and healed me.

What must I do with her?

She lived mostsensually and corruptly before she married you,

yet she presented herself to you as an innocent.

She must go to the block.

-So young! -Her offences are treasonable.

She has maliciously caused you harm.

Death isthe only proper verdict.

Then so be it.

I beg you now to be responsible

for the necessary interrogations and eventual...punishment.

Orders have already been given for the arrest of Dereham and Mannox.

And Culpeper?

My officers conveyed him to the Tower earlier tonight.

Oh, Catherine!

I did not wish to act until you knew of her guilt.

-I shall not speak with her! -She will beg to see you.

No, I cannot...Cannot face her.

Do whatever you think fit, Norfolk, I must leave everything to you.

Were she to throw herself on my mercy,

kneel and weep at my feet, I do not know what I should do.

Strangle her with my own hands

or weep with her. Weep and forgive her.

Go, now. Do what must be done.

Will, a stick. Give me a stick.

(TAPPING ON DOOR)

Oh, Thomas.

-He was not there. -Did you wait long enough?

-For nearly an hour. -Then where is he?

-He's not been seen tonight. -He was to attend the King.

The King is with your uncle. They've been alone together for more than two hours.

-Some business of state? -Who knows?

Oh, come on, my angel, be cheerful.

Perhaps the King has sent Master Culpeper on some urgent errand.

Perhaps he had not time or thought it dangerous to send you word.

-Pray heaven it is so. -Amen to that.

(TAPPING ON DOOR)

-Thomas! -There, my angel, all is well.

I would die!

Your Majesty, I am ordered by the King to arrest you, together with Lady Rochford,

and to convey you both to Syon House at once.

-Arrest. -On a charge of high treason.

-I wish to speak to the King. -He will not see you.

Have mercy. God have mercy. God have mercy. God have mercy.

-God have mercy. -Too late for any mercy.

Be grateful that the King remembered you at the end,

that you are to die as a gentleman.

But for me,

because I was only a secretary,

I shall face the rope,

the disembo welling knife and then the axe.

I shall know pain, Master Culpeper.

You suffered on the rack, think how I shall suffer tomorrow.

No!

God, man, if anyone should curse heaven, it should be me.

I fell in love with a girl who by mere chance married a king.

But you, you knowingly committed adultery with a queen.

She tempted me. She is a witch.

You were willing and eager to be tempted.

-She is evil. -No, never evil.

Vain, stupid, hollow, shallow,

but never evil.

Do you forgive her, then?

I have no feelings left.

I find it strangely impossible to realise

that I am to die tomorrow for something so ordinary

that happens all the time and everywhere.

I climbed the wall and I loved her.

Now I am condemned to death for such a little sin.

When you heard she was to marry the King, you should have left England.

Yes, that would have been sensible.

Sensible?

I swear you will be a clown to the very end.

Come, admit it was impossible to rid your brain of the memory of those few nights.

She dazzled you then, and she still does now.

And you will remember her even as they cut out your bowels.

-Yes! -Just as I will remember her and curse her.

Oh, God have mercy. God have mercy. God have mercy.

-God have mercy. God have mercy. -Oh, Catherine. Catherine.

You will be taken down river to the Tower.

The curious will no doubt be there to stare at you.

It is, after all, a public occasion,

and they always feel cheated because they're not permitted

to witness the concluding ceremonial.

I suggest, therefore, that you dress discreetly,

and conduct yourself with the dignity befitting your rank.

-And family. -Yes, and family.

-I shall wear this. -Admirable.

I should warn you that one stage of your journey may prove emotionally trying.

The barges will, of course, pass under London Bridge.

Well?

The remains of Dereham and the head of Culpeper are impaled upon the bridge.

-How long shall I be in the Tower? -Three or four days, no more.

-When will I know the day and time? -The preceding night.

You understand that there will only be a few onlookers permitted,

-the Council, certain foreign ambassadors... -You will be there?

Yes, it is my duty.

-You will be allowed to speak. -I have already prepared a short speech.

And never fear, Uncle,

I intend to ask my hearers to implore His Majesty

not to impute my crime to my own kindred and family.

-Excellent. -I have also written to His Majesty,

as you suggested, a statement of my guilt.

That, I think, is what you desired.

Lady Rochford isto die with you.

My mother is confined to Lambeth.

At the moment the King has taken no action against other members of our family,

-but who knows which way he'll turn when... -When I am dead?

What will you do?

I shall give up certain of my powers and responsibilities,

and I shall leave London for a while, visit my estates and properties in the country.

I shall wait and see if two or three months will change the King's present mood.

At the moment he's stunned,

unable to blame anyone, unable to do anything.

But that mood may well change to one of anger.

I shall wait and see.

This is as much my tragedy as yours, Catherine.

I had hoped to live and see you produce a son.

A Howard King of England.

But it was not to be.

-Now there's only one ambition left me. -What is that?

Die in my bed.

I must report to the King.

-A favour, Uncle. -Well?

Would your men provide me with a block here in my room?

I am told Thomas and Francis both died well.

Bravely, I can vouch for that.

I am very much afraid.

I would like to try the block, kneel before it, rest my head on it.

Then on the morning, perhaps it will not seem so terrible.

My officer will bring one to you.

My lords,

I openly confess and acknowledge the great crime of which I have committed

against the most high God and a kind prince.

I am a Howard,

yet beg you all to implore His Majesty

not to impute my crime to my whole kindred and family.

I desire all Christian people

to take regard of my worthy and just punishment,

for I have sinned against God in breaking his commandments,

and against the King's most royal Majesty very dangerously.

Pray for me.

Poor innocent.

-She was corrupt. -No.

Those around her corrupted her. I truly believe that.

She could have been perfect, a paragon without blemish.

I should never have married her. I should have been content to admire her.

-When is she to die? -On the 13th, Majesty,at 9:00 in the morning.

You will leave London after the execution?

With your permission. I understand you wish to go to Hampton Court.

I thought I would travel to my estates in the north.

You have our permission to leave immediately.

It is my duty to attend the Tower.

Immediately, I say! Now, tonight!

-Your Majesty. -And, Norfolk?

Majesty?

For your own special safety,

you would do well to stay in the north, or the south, or west,

or wherever you will, for the rest of your days.

You are the source of corruption, Norfolk. You are the disease.

I never want to speak with you or look on you again.

If I do speak, it will be to condemn you. If I do see you,

I will look only on your head!

Very well. Unwind your bandages.

Prepare your knives.

Cut as deep as you wish.

I shall feel nothing.

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