All language subtitles for The Virgin Queen 1955 Henry.Koster - Bette Davis, Joan Collins, Richard Todd DualEng

'Tis but a pothole, Ned. Whip them on.

- Come on. Get out of there. Get up.
- Get up there. Come on.

Hold, Ned, hold.

My lord, we're caught fast.

There is an inn not far distant.

Aye, I see it. If Your Lordship
will be patient, I'll go there.

- I shall come as well.
- Yes, my lord.

Welcome, my lord. At
your service, my lord.

My coach is bogged down. Send
eight or ten men to free it.

Yes, my lord. Master
Murray, do you hear?

Nay, I have but now gone deaf.

I am in haste to get to London.

We're all in haste to get to London, were
our horses fresh and the rain stopped.

- I beg you, Master Waltham, my lord is...
- I care not who my lord is, fat-chops.

I would not venture out to
free the coach of the queen.

- And nor would any of my friends.
- I'm on the queen's business.

The last time I went on the queen's business
was to the Irish wars. Here's all I got for that.

To free your coach might
cost me the other one.

Derry, do you know that man?

- No. Not from Adam.
- I do, very well.

I'll take these fellows, my
lord, and free your coach for you.

When I tell them sit, they move not.

- I'll say rise, and they will move.
- Your tongue wags like a dog's tail.

- It's not my tongue speaking.
- Then we speak the same language.

Now, my friend, I too am late come from
the Irish wars, and I'm as poor as you,

but I've spent nights in the Irish bogs
that make this seem like July sunshine.

So, shall we free my lord's coach?

Friend, you beat me fair.

We'll either free his coach

or carry him back to
London on our backs.

Come on, lads.

- Let's to work.
- It's wet outside.

- Bring my doublet.
- I'll catch my death of cold.

You English are a heartless race.

My lord, will you not stay
till they free your coach?

Nay. I have learned to
thrive on foul weather.

Come on. Heave.

- My lord.
- Well done.

Here. Go and drink yourselves dry again.

Aye, that we will, my lord.

As for you, sir, another medal.

Gold? Nay, my lord.

- And why not, pray?
- To serve my queen is reward enough.

- So, you fought in Ireland?
- Aye, my lord, as a captain of horse.

- From whence come you?
- From Devonshire.

A village called Hayes Barton.

Hayes Barton. In other days I had a
friend there. Raleigh was his name.

- He was my father, sir.
- So say you?

Then I remember you well as a boy.

- Do you not know who I am?
- No, my lord.

In those days, I was Robert Dudley.
Now I am the Earl of Leicester,

the Lord Chancellor of
England, and many other things.

- But your father, does he well?
- He's been dead these seven years.

Sad.

Raleigh, you have done me a
service, I would do you one.

Wait on me at Whitehall Palace
in the morning, three days hence.

Look, Your Lordship, my poor friend
here isn't feeling very well today.

Drunk, my lord.

Come on now.

Come on. Giddap. Come on.

Have you no ears in your
head? He offered you gold.

One small purse of gold?

My hopes soar higher than that.

If you remain in the army, something better
for you will be found than services of captain.

Nay, my lord. I trust
I have done with wars.

- Something then in the civil government?
- I have no wish to haunt palaces.

What may I do for you, then?

Present me to Her Majesty the Queen.

- To the queen?
- I have long had a dream, my lord,

to sail to the New World
in ships of my own design.

I feel the queen would share that dream.

At the inn the other night,
you knew who I was, did you not?

- Aye, my lord.
- I thought as much. You're clever, Walter.

No, sir, but sometimes a man
must catch the nearest way.

I ask that I may be allowed to
tell her my plan for these ships.

Perchance it will find favour with her.

She is a woman of both whims and wisdom.

But the whims are of the moment.

The wisdom will endure
when you and I are dead.

Are those the only clothes
you have? I shall be glad...

No, sir. I'll accept
only what I have asked.

Like all Devon men, you're stubborn.

Proud, sir.

God help your pride if you
should find favour with the queen.

- No.
- No?

Well, here is a cloak of Flemish velvet
- satin-lined, exquisitely embroidered.

Value
- only eight sovereigns.

Look, you, Master Tailor, these
are cloaks for ordinary men.

I have a cloak fit for an emperor, tailored
as you have never seen a cloak tailored before.

A very god amongst cloaks.
Such cut, such workmanship.

- Such imagination of design.
- Yes.

- Not that one, sir. This one.
- This one.

No. That is tailored for... Gently, sir, gently.
This is tailored for a most important man.

- He comes for it tomorrow. It is not for sale.
- It becomes me.

I fear to touch it,
lest I harm the thread.

Please, I beg of you, sir. The French
ambassador will never forgive me.

- The French ambassador?
- Yes.

- It's for him you're making this?
- Indeed, sir.

Does it not matter that when you deliver this
cloak you will betray every tailor in London?

Do you think he will wear
this cloak as it stands,

when he has sworn to discredit
the tailoring trade of London?

- The French ambassador? - Ambassadors
- what are they? Paid spies.

Do you know what he'll do? He'll set the
tailor he keeps with him in secret to work.

One shoulder will drop. The hemline will
drag. There'll be a tarnishing of the gold.

He'll say, "Here is English tailoring. "

- The French ambassador?
- Yes.

The frog-eating villain. Thank
goodness you told me, sir.

- How much?
- The price is 20 sovereigns.

I hadn't thought of buying it.

- I wanted to hire it.
- Hire it?

For one day. I'll pay
for a lesser cloak.

But you couldn't hire it, not for blood
nor money. Something might happen to it.

Is this gratitude to the man who saved you
from the wrath of every tailor in London?

Yes, but...

- And her name, Monsieur Ambassador?
- Does a gentleman reveal a lady's name?

But if you promise not to tell.

Her name was...

What do you see?

This fellow that came in
with Leicester, who is he?

- Stranger to me.
- He has a fine cloak cut in the French fashion.

Too fine for the rest of him.

I'll soon find out.

I amuse you?

'Tis the fineness of your cloak.
May I ask how you came by it?

I took it from the corpse of a man I
stabbed. He made the mistake of pawing me.

My apologies. You washed it well.

No, on the contrary. The fellow
was bloodless, like yourself.

- Would you question me further, sir?
- No further.

Don't be bold, Beth.

Faith, were a woman not bold,
she would lack for much pleasure.

- Master Stranger.
- Mistress Curiosity.

- What brings you to court?
- An audience with the queen.

You must be careful.

That man has the ear of Sir Christopher
Hatton, who has the ear of the queen.

- Is this the general rule of court etiquette?
- One of many, sir.

- Name more.
- It would take too long.

- Your voice is very pleasing to hear.
- Well.

Number one, keep a blank face,
like those you see about you.

- Yours is not blank.
- Do not interrupt, sir.

Two, be careful to whom you speak
and where. The walls are listening.

Three, do not be seen talking to such as I
in the queen's presence. She'd take it amiss.

Four...

Mistress Throckmorton,
is this your pet swine?

- You have cast pearls before him.
- Your Majesty.

Faith, 'tis no swine, for it speaks.

'Tis a man and a stranger to
boot. Your name and business?

Captain Walter Raleigh.
New-come from Ireland.

With dispatches?

Your Majesty, Captain Raleigh's
father and I were friends.

I have heard scant news
of Ireland these many days.

There is good news, ma'am, and bad.

Alas, I believe it. Ireland is no better
nor no worse than Whitehall Palace.

I am surrounded by dancers.

It will do me good to talk
with a blunt man of war.

- Ma'am, the armour.
- The iron will not rust, Christopher.

I have been talking
nonsense all morning.

- It will do me no harm to talk Ireland now.
- As you please, ma'am.

Yes, Christopher. As I please.

And it pleases me to see your armour.

Sir Christopher here has a breastplate
engraven with the love of Mars and Venus.

You will come with us to inspect it. As
a soldier, you can best value its worth.

And later, I have been sent fresh
fruit and wine from Portugal.

Perhaps you will sup with us.

- Are you fond of armour, Captain?
- It saved my life on occasion, ma'am.

Spoken like a blunt soldier.

And the rest of my soldiers,
fight they well in Ireland?

Your Englishman always fights well,
ma'am. He's half hawk, half vulture.

- And you, are you half hawk and half vulture?
- Well, I soar high, but I eat no carrion.

The hawk has a pointed tongue.
Did you hear that, Christopher?

Aye, ma'am, clearly. Hawks
have loud and raucous voices.

- Would you mellow mine, sir?
- Smooth your feathers, Captain.

We are all hawks here.

Hail the queen. Hail the queen.

Your Majesty.

Sir Christopher?

Would you leave your cloak in the mire?

Would I be so vainglorious as to wear...

Pick it up, man. Pick it up.

I'm not quite sure whether
you please me or not.

However, you have qualities
which the court sadly lacks.

- Must we stand here in the chill air?
- Your Majesty.

Sable. The finest sable.

As you say, ma'am,
there is no finer fur.

Much too fine to waste on a mere queen.

- You have a wit, Captain.
- A poor reflection of your own, ma'am.

- Flattery, flattery.
- Flattery is something a soldier never learns.

More wine. And what is
it the soldier does learn?

- Attacks? The storming of citadels?
- Aye, that. And more.

And women
- do you consider them citadels to be stormed?

They are not like citadels.
They have better defences.

- Some have walls of paper.
- But they are masters of retreat.

Mistresses, Captain, mistresses.

You may go.

And what is your next campaign?

I am already launched on it,
ma'am. My next campaign is you.

It takes strategy to reach me.

I have already used much strategy.

- On whom?
- The Earl of Leicester, for one.

Then you are a soldier indeed.

But now that you have
reached your citadel,

what tactics will you
use to storm the walls?

Honest ones, ma'am.

But suppose the walls were
breached and the queen captured.

What ransom would you ask?

Three ships, no more.

- You talk of ships, Captain?
- Such ships as the world has never seen.

- We were talking of citadels.
- Every ship is a citadel.

Since I learned to walk, my
life has been around them.

- Citadels?
- Ships. I know more of them than of women.

- Women?
- Believe me, ma'am, yes.

I know 100 ways in which
they can be improved.

- Women?
- Ships, ma'am.

I've made designs for ships that will skim
the waves like gulls, outrace anything afloat.

- I had thought you were a soldier.
- I am, but a sailor first of all.

I would take these ships
of mine to the New World.

I would bring them back heavy with gold and
spices. I'd swell the coffers of the realm.

Give me these ships, ma'am,
and a year in the New World,

and, before heaven, you'll be
glad you met with me this day.

Raleigh. No one leaves the queen's
presence without the queen's permission.

Depart this room and you will
regret you met with me this day.

I regret it already, ma'am. I had
thought you'd listen to an honest man.

Too few of them. I'm out of practice.

Do I have permission to leave?

You have not.

Faith, you spoke true when you
said you knew not the ways of women.

- I spoke true in all I said.
- This is the court and no place to talk truth.

Furthermore, 'tis winter weather,
and no time to talk of voyage.

Fill my goblet, Walter.

Your reign was short.

I serve my queen as she wills,
and I understand her moods.

This Raleigh is just the whim of
the day. She but toys with him.

Suppose he were not the whim of the day?

Suppose from my window I could look
on a fair view of lakes and mountains,

and suppose someone planted a tree in
front of that window, what would I do?

- Pull it out by the roots.
- Exactly.

My lord, the queen
commands your presence.

But as you can plainly
observe, there is no tree.

Captain Raleigh.

- Your cloak, Captain Raleigh.
- Thank you, Mistress Throckmorton.

- It's very muddy.
- And very famous.

Did she give you your ships?

- How should you know what I asked her?
- There are no secrets at court.

She gave me no ships
nor any straight answer.

- I'm delighted to hear it.
- I'm not.

Until she gives you an answer,
you must linger in the court.

- Believe me, I shall come no more to court.
- Nay.

I think you too stubborn a man to go
off without the queen's final yea or nay.

And while you wait on her
word, I intend to see you often.

In the queen's presence?
She'll take that amiss.

Perhaps. Perhaps not.

- Did you sit on the cushion?
- What cushion?

- The green striped one at her chair.
- I'm not a lapdog.

Then she cares not if I see you.

You pursue very fast.

On the contrary, Captain,
I do not pursue. I surround.

A good night to you.

- Walter.
- Aye.

- Did you see the queen?
- Aye, I dined with her, alone.

- And got your ships?
- No.

Well, speak up, man. What happened?

I had a cup of wine flung
at me and I caught a smile.

There was talk
- talk like a game of chess with no conclusion. What is a man to think?

- Never have I seen you like this.
- I never was like this.

Come in.

The Earl of Leicester, sir.

Lord Leicester. You remember
my friend Lord Derry.

- His Irish memento of the Irish wars, I am.
- Yes, yes.

Walter, I come at the queen's command
with news that can bring fortune to you -

fortune beyond anything
you have dreamed.

The ships?

The queen has appointed
you captain of her guard.

Her palace guard? I have no
wish for such appointment.

So I told Her Majesty.
'Twas made nevertheless.

- You have pleased her.
- Pleased her?

If she thinks to have me sit on her
cursed cushion, I'll leave tomorrow.

You're an ambitious man.

What place is there in England
for ambition, save at court?

And my ships?

Your ships may come in
time, if you hold her favour.

Then, Derry, we're in her guard.

Me too? An Irishman? Is that wise?

I came here, Walter, to tell
you, and to add a warning.

This is not a simple
thing you undertake.

In return for her favour, the
virgin queen demands a devotion

that is single-hearted,
unwavering, long-suffering.

- Well, look at me.
- I do, my lord.

And despite all, I am
proud to have served her.

- How came this?
- Guardroom scuffle, sir.

- Have him in a new doublet by nightfall.
- Aye, Captain.

Even birds of fine plumage have
troubles with feathers, do they not?

Mistress Throckmorton.

Captain Raleigh?

Three days since unknown to the court,
and now captain of the queen's guard.

Red becomes you, though perhaps it
serves less purpose than mud-stained blue.

- I congratulate you, Captain.
- My thanks, Mistress Throckmorton.

And you have no cloak
with you. What a pity.

- Adjutant, march the men to their posts.
- Sir.

Mistress Throckmorton.

Must you bait me before
the guard? I have no choice.

I did not wish to bait
you. Indeed, I pity you.

You have no ships and the
queen has a new lapdog.

Dogs bark, and if they bark
loud enough, they're listened to.

- I shall have my my ships. - Nay.
But a well-fed lapdog barks but gently.

And you shall feed well, Captain.

That a mouth so fair should
utter only shrewish words.

It is at myself I am angry.

I had no right to think you
the man I thought you were.

I give you good day, Captain.

Lead him by a length, ma'am.

Now.

- Too bad, ma'am. A trifle short.
- Christopher.

Well shot, monsieur. Very well shot.

Think you so, but why
should that surprise you?

You French have faced our bowmen
before and felt their arrows too.

- It was a fortunate shot.
- I know your aim, Christopher.

You aimed high, didn't
you? You always have.

Give me another shaft.

If I may suggest, ma'am, a little
more height might not be amiss.

Think you so, Christopher?
Think you so, Walter?

- You are your father's daughter, ma'am.
- Aye, and have no need to aim high.

Did you laugh, sirrah?

Know you then that though my arrow falls
short of its mark, my kingdom will not.

I am no Diana, I. And
the sun is hot in my face.

Let us all move to a
place under the trees.

Walter, you go forward and
see that all is prepared.

The pasties go on that table
there, the sweetmeats over there.

The queen's footstool.
You, bring it over here.

Are you now minister
of the queen's comfort?

Mistress Throckmorton.
Are you now my gadfly?

Not your conscience, surely.

- Do I need a conscience?
- Not you, sir. Not you.

Whatever I've done, I've
not meant to hurt you.

You have not hurt me, sir, only yourself.
And I soothe no wounds such as yours.

- Wounds?
- Of the soul, Captain.

- I have no such wounds.
- But you have a great one.

While you linger in
the court, it festers.

The gangrene grows in you,
but you cannot feel it.

You know wounds, Captain. For a while, with
shock, they're painless. Then the hurt begins.

The dying man cries for water where there is
no water, and for aid where there is no aid.

You are in the first stage now,
and the sight is not a pretty one.

- My heart is bitter. Do not pour gall on it.
- Heart? Your heart? Where is it?

With your ships, sailing
in the grass of the meadow.

An invisible heart, beating
on an invisible ship.

Walter?

- All is prepared, ma'am.
- It will wait till I am ready.

There are too many people about me.

Be off, all of you. Dance if you
will, but out of my sight for a while.

No, Raleigh, not you.

What did you discuss with her?

- "Her", ma'am?
- Mistress Throckmorton.

Matters of no purpose.
The treatment of wounds.

Nothing more?

There was some mention of
ships that sail in meadows,

and of their captains who sit
on cushions out of the sun.

Walter, I have commanded you to have
no dalliance with ladies of my court.

As you will, ma'am.

Walter, I am hot and out of sorts.

As you love me, speak only gentle
words, and I will do the same.

Aye, ma'am.

I read your mind, Christopher.

Do you? Then tell me what I plan.

To clear the view from your window.

His Excellency, the ambassador
from the court of France.

- Your Majesty. My lords.
- We are honoured, monsieur.

May I compliment you once again
on this most beautiful palace?

There is no other like
it in all of Europe.

It was my father's. I will
tell him when I see him.

But King Henry is dead. Madam jests.

- Madam never jests.
- No, madam.

I think I know the
purpose of this audience.

You wish to report that the Duke
d'Alen�on is enamoured of me.

Ever since he saw you, he
can talk of nothing else.

He is a sweet boy, but only a
boy. We have discussed this before.

But this time I am commanded by my
queen to return with a definite answer.

- Your queen then thinks to command me?
- No, no. I beg you of you, madam, no.

- And so you want a definite answer, do you?
- Yes, madam.

Very well. I shall give you one.

Go back to your Catherine de' Medici and
tell her I am tired of little French dukes,

and of old French queens,

and of ambassadors who laugh
when I miss with an arrow,

and of all Frenchmen in general.

- Go back and tell her that.
- Yes, madam.

That may not be the best policy, ma'am.

It is I who make the policy of this
realm. I, and I alone. Just as I made you.

They think to wed me to that weak-chinned,
pasty-nosed, gap-toothed little monster.

I have been writing him gentle and loving
letters for the past five years, and why?

To keep France on tenterhooks. To
keep France from turning to Spain.

That is policy
- my policy.

And what is to stop France
from turning to Spain now?

Think you monsieur will
go galloping off to Calais?

No, never, Christopher. He'll be back.

It would be worth his head to return
with a report of this interview.

Catherine hates failures.

- We must still keep her as a friend.
- States have no friends.

- It is also true of people, ma'am.
- Are you friendless, Christopher?

I speak not for myself, ma'am, but you.

Do you know who your friends
are, and who are your enemies?

- I know who my enemies are.
- All of them, ma'am?

Well, enough to last the day
out. What are you getting at?

A rumour has reached my ears, ma'am, that
there is an Irish lord in your own guard.

And since we are at war with Ireland,
who knows but what he plans to murder you?

- And the name of this Irish lord?
- Lord Derry, I believe, ma'am.

- Is this true, Raleigh?
- There is a Lord Derry in the guard, yes.

'Tis said he is Raleigh's
friend, brought from Ireland.

You're most well
informed, Sir Christopher.

I would discuss that
with you in private.

- With pleasure, sir.
- Sit down, sir.

- Nay. Sir Christopher questions my honour.
- Sit down, blast you.

What do you mean, adding
an Irishman to my guard?

He is an honourable man, who wishes
Your Majesty naught but happiness.

Words come two pence a
thousand. What's in his heart?

- He speaks what is in his heart.
- No man has since God made Adam.

Well, we'll see what's in his heart.

- Arrest him. Send him to the tower.
- I, ma'am?

- You, sir.
- No, ma'am, not I.

You cheap-jack soldier,
you. How dare you disobey me?

It's I who brought him to court.
It's I who take full responsibility.

It is I who will strip you of every honour
you have, every bone I've thrown you.

It is no honour for a man to humble
himself. And this I've done time out of mind.

I return such honours gladly.

Open that door.

Raleigh. You were not
called here, you came here -

an out-at-elbows dissembling
rogue, foul from the Irish wars -

and I took pity on you and
allowed you to serve me.

I wished to serve not you, but England.

Then I find myself in an
aviary full of tame birds.

All England's not confined
in the walls of this court,

but rides proud and free
on the bosom of the ocean,

bordered only by her destiny and hope.

Yet while every nation in Europe points
its ships to the Indies and beyond,

we English stand idly
by, counting our pence.

But some Englishmen watch the sun
on the waves, and dream of a future

that will shine on England with
the brightness of a hundred suns.

- Thank God I'm of their company.
- Thank God you are no longer of mine.

Out of my sight. Out of my house.

Little men.

You know what you were before
I made you what you are.

Do not gape so, or by the rood,
I'll turn you all out of doors.

Christopher. Robert.

I feel faint. Take me to my chamber.

If you've come to whip the queen's dog
more, you'll find he's done being whipped.

- I have come to talk to a Devon man.
- The one who lives here nigh forgot his birth.

Where is Lord Derry?

Arranging for horses.
Saying goodbye to some wench.

- Where will you go?
- Any direction will lead to the sea.

My house is in Devonshire, near Plymouth.
My servants would give you shelter.

Have you lost your senses, girl? This
is a face it would be wiser to forget.

It is a face that pleases me again.

Beth, you've chanced much in coming here
- perhaps more than you know.

I came because I wished to.

I've longed to stand as close as this.

In the moments before sleep I've
questioned the colour of those eyes.

- Nay, I've been even bolder in their regard.
- How is one bold in the regard of eyes?

I wondered whether, when a man
presses a kiss on your lips,

those heavy lids, do they close?

Well?

Did they close?

I do not know.

'Tis nine by the clock,

and all is well.

'Tis nine by the clock,

and all is well.

Long live the queen.

I must return to the court.

Having but found each other,
we must lose each other.

How much longer must
you serve the queen?

- Five years, unless she marries me off.
- Marries you off?

I am her ward. My parents are dead.

Walter, may I not ride with you tonight?

Would you...

Beth, would you marry me? Now?

No church in London would
say the words over us.

In Queen Mary's day, there
were secret marriages aplenty.

Wait.

Master Innkeeper. This
is a mad thing we do.

- I care not.
- Anon, anon, sir.

Come here. Bring the serving wench. Another
lass in England would not venture so much.

As to defy the queen?
It was you who taught me.

She may object. God will not.

Stand here. There's a
matter you must witness.

I, Walter Raleigh, in the name of God
and the Reformed Church of England,

take thee unto wife, God be my witness.

I, Elizabeth Throckmorton, in the name
of God and the Reformed Church of England,

take thee unto my husband,
so God be my witness.

- Thanks.
- My lord.

- What was all that about?
- Some kind of a wedding, I suppose.

A wedding? Well, why
did you not tell me?

I always cry.

Walter.

Walter.

There's been a change in our
plans. We need another horse.

Another horse? It will be
hard to get at this time.

Derry, we'll have to.

- Who is it?
- In the name of the queen, open.

Open up.

Walter Raleigh, we are commanded by
the queen's majesty to take you hence.

- Can you give me a moment?
- We cannot, sir. Come at once.

File. Stand in.

- I would have a word with this man.
- What's happened?

The lady
- see her safely back to the palace.

Captain Raleigh, if you please.

File. March.

- Mistress Throckmorton.
- Where do they take him?

- They gave him no time to tell me.
- She's sent him to the tower.

Nay. She'd have sent
him when they quarreled.

You do not know her.

Her anger is like a beast
- she lets it feed, then sets it free to spring. She'll have his head.

- Hold, Mistress Throckmorton.
- Nay. Mistress Raleigh.

Mistress Raleigh?

- We were wed this day. I must find him.
- It will serve no purpose.

- I care not.
- But he does. Do not complicate matters.

If the queen knew that you and Walter
were... It would be the worse for him.

Do as he wishes. Return to the palace.

As you wish.

Enough, enough.

Have you not mumbled
long enough, good doctors?

What latest attack have you
planned on this frail body?

The blood moves sluggishly. It is best you be
bled, that the strain on the heart be light.

Then come draw your pint, Master
Tapster. I have impatient blood.

Would that all the heart's
strain could be eased by bleeding.

- Have they not brought that devil Raleigh?
- Not yet, Your Majesty.

The French ambassador waits
outside, most importunate to see you.

- Bring him in.
- At such a time?

There never was a better. Fetch him.

Monsieur.

Your Majesty, had I but known.
Forgive my unforgivable rudeness.

I'd have knocked my head against the
wall to think I caused your illness.

- I could have hanged myself.
- Fie, man, fie.

God made me ill, not you.

He is bringing me down
by degrees. Look at me.

Sick as I am, would you have
me wed to that sweet boy?

- He would be your greatest comfort, madam.
- Death will be my greatest comfort.

- We have finished, ma'am.
- Aye, and I am nearly finished too.

Had they saved all the blood they've
drawn from me these many years,

there'd be a Red Sea in England.

Pray, rest now, ma'am.

Surgeons are alarmed,
are they not, my lord?

- Gravely alarmed.
- Do not mention the graves.

No, no, monsieur, do not mention.

So, monsieur, return to France and
tell your queen of my ill health,

and tell her when I
am well again, if ever,

it will be time then to discuss
the ardours of young d'Alen�on.

- Yes, madam.
- One thing more.

So that Catherine and I may
understand each other better,

I propose we exchange
some members of our courts.

If your queen will be so gracious
as to send me four of her courtiers,

I will be most happy to
send her four of mine.

An excellent proposal. Would
you wish gentlemen or ladies?

It does not matter.

No, no, no, wait. I will send ladies.

There are many here who would
see what is worn in France.

Let Catherine send me gentlemen.

I will take ship for Calais
tonight, Your Majesty.

What is in that box?

A present I brought you
- a sword. I will leave it with the chamberlain.

No, no, no. I would see it.

It is not worthy of
Your Majesty's splendour.

Nay, 'tis a beautiful thing.

- I thank you from my heart.
- Madam.

Your Majesty.

There is policy for you.

A week from now, all France will
think I am standing on my coffin,

and that millstone is off my
neck for a good six months.

How is it that devil
Raleigh is not here yet?

Let me ask, ma'am.

He is here, ma'am.

- Your Majesty.
- Come you here.

- Well?
- I did not know you were ill, ma'am.

Of course not. The plague
knows not whom it kills.

But no matter. No matter.

Why do you think I've
had you brought here?

To forgive you.

- Are you not pleased?
- It will happen again.

Nay, you will never again
shout me deaf in my own house.

Sit down.

How do I look to you, Walter?
Do you like me as you see me?

- I admire the woman, not the wrappings.
- Admire, you say? Only admire?

Walter, we had a quarrel.
So, we had a quarrel.

- It is over.
- Hatton shouldn't have accused Derry.

- His only thought was of my safety.
- So has mine been.

And yet you bring over an Irish cutthroat
from heaven knows what ill-odoured bog,

and make him one of my guards.

The rapscallion could
have slit my throat.

Had he wished that, he
would've done it ere now.

You sound as though
you'd do it yourself.

Would you, Walter?

Then let it be done.

Let it be done.

I am the last man on
earth would do it, ma'am.

Kiss me, Walter.

Dear Walter, you are my best physician.

So long as you do not
quarrel with Christopher.

How can you defend him?

He acted in his own interest. Ambition
opened his mouth, jealousy spoke his words.

But you are all ambitious,
all jealous. Yes, even you.

If I gave each man in this
court everything he wanted,

I would have to give
away half the world.

And since half the world is not mine
to give, I give away titles, honours -

high-sounding, but empty as the air.

- Would you not too like a title, Walter?
- I have done without one all these years.

And I have done without
quarrels in my court. I co...

No, I do not command you.

I implore you, no
swordplay with Christopher.

On your oath.

It shall be as you
say, ma'am. On my oath.

That's better.

And do not make me bandy words so.

I am not well.

Walter.

- Am I old? Do I look old?
- Does the moon look old, or the sun?

I am talking of Elizabeth
Tudor, not suns and moons.

Answer me truly, Walter.

Were I forming a new company, ma'am,
and were you not Queen of England,

I'd have you wielding a broadsword.

- Broadswords are heavy.
- Aye. Young men's work.

There's my blunt soldier.

You are no smooth-tongued courtier yet.

Open that box.

- A splendid weapon, ma'am.
- Take it out.

Try it.

A splendid weapon, indeed.

'Tis nicely balanced. And finely worked.

So I shall be in your company.
You will have me then, Walter?

- You shall fight by my side, ma'am.
- Aye, at your side.

But on whom shall I use it?

- Kneel, Walter.
- Kneel, ma'am? Would you have my head?

More than that, man. More
than that. On your knee.

I, Elizabeth Tudor,

by the grace of God, Queen of
England, do dub thee knight.

Arise, Sir Walter Raleigh.

But, ma'am...

You are still not pleased.

You said yourself, ma'am,
honours are as empty as the air.

Aye.

So they are.

But the words you spoke
to me in rage were not.

They were honest words and wise
ones, and they still ring in my head.

But I will please you yet, Walter.

I cannot give you three ships,

but one you shall have.

Announce Sir Walter
Raleigh to the court.

By command of Her Majesty,
the knight Sir Walter Raleigh.

Beth.

Well, sir, are you ready to ride now?

Beth, listen. She gave me a ship.

Only one, when you asked for three?

Faith, you sell your favours
cheaply, though not as cheaply as I.

- These are strange words from my wife.
- Your wife?

Did you defy her again? Did
you tell her we were wed?

She's ill. I could not
defy her on her sickbed.

I am not your wife. I'm the shadow of a wife,
a woman cozened into a travesty of marriage.

- The marriage is a true one.
- How can a master of guile speak of truth?

How did you soften her? Did you
use the same words that softened me?

- You know not of what passed between us.
- Heaven forbid that I ever should.

To think this was the man whose very
life I prayed for when they took him away.

Man, indeed. Whipped dog
licking the hand of its mistress.

- Don't go too far, girl.
- I've come to the end.

You have your ships, but
you no longer have me.

- Take yourself off, sire.
- Curse you, I will. And never see you more.

Sir Walter.

'Tis not often one can talk
to a knight so newly minted.

- I wish no words with you, sir.
- Now we are equals, I wish words with you.

You said in council I
questioned your honour.

- I do not remember what I said in council.
- Then let me improve your memory.

I still question your honour.

This day Sir Walter Raleigh sets
forth for Plymouth, oh, merciful God.

We crave thy blessing on
each step of his venture.

May he have thy guidance in
the preparation of his ship.

May he build it strong and seaworthy.

Thou knowest the dreadful
dangers of the deep,

the storms that rise, the
whirlpools that engulf,

the monsters that dwell below,
the peril of the Spanish ships.

Thou knowest the giant
waves that mount...

As you have said, my lord
Bishop, God knows these things.

He needs no remembrance, sir.

And my knees are weary.

Upon Sir Walter Raleigh and his undertaking,
thy blessing, oh, merciful God. Amen.

- Amen.
- Amen.

Walter.

The time has come to
make my adieu, madam.

Your dream is a dream no longer,

and yet you seem to show no joy.

I have much on my mind. I have
seen the plans of the Golden Falcon.

There are changes to be made.

- How long will it be in the making?
- Six weeks at least.

And then the sea. The sea, the
storms and the months of voyage.

When will I look upon you next, Walter?

That's in God's hands, ma'am.

I thank Your Majesty for
opportunity granted to no other man.

I have no taste for partings.

You have given me much joy, ma'am.

I have the highest hopes
of this adventure, ma'am.

Adventure. Why must Raleigh go?

It is his dearest passion, ma'am.

Adventure is for the brainless.

Or should be.

Mistress Throckmorton.

The Golden Falcon is a stout vessel.
I doubt if you would find better.

She's not what I would have designed, but
with these alterations, she'll equal any craft.

First, the rigging. She carries
no topgallants. Rig her for them.

She lacks span on the fore and main. Add
another full score yard of sail to each.

With that much canvas, a blow
might pull the sticks out of her.

- I think not.
- Mark his words.

He comes from a long line of seafarers.

When Noah brought the animals to
the ark, there were two Raleighs.

As to the gun ports, I want 14 abeam.

Aye, and add space for a
pair of fore chasers as well.

Aye, sir.

"Our passions are most
like to floods and streams:

The shallow murmur,
but the deep are dumb;

So, when affections
yield discourse, it seems

The bottom is but shallow
whence they come. "

- "They that are... "
- ".. are rich in words must needs discover

That they are poor in
that which makes a lover. "

- You know the poem, ma'am?
- Aye.

- The volume was just this day published.
- Sir Walter wrote the poem in my presence.

Sir Walter, a poet? I did not know.

I am aware of many things about Sir
Walter that are not common knowledge.

He has a delicate touch with a line.

'Tis a pity he will soon be at sea
and with no more time to write verses.

Do not sigh, Christopher. There
can be no funeral without a corpse.

Ma'am?

Sir Walter will not sail. He
will return here to be with me.

Take care how you treat your queen's
possessions, Mistress Throckmorton.

- I'm sorry, ma'am.
- Are you well? Your face looks drawn.

Quite well, thank you, ma'am.

I had been told you fainted
in chapel Sunday last.

It was nothing, ma'am.

True, Christopher, I toyed with the idea
of letting Sir Walter go voyaging off.

But I miss the rogue.
He tests my mettle.

Is he aware of this
change in fortune, ma'am?

He will be, by degrees.

Aye, Sir Walter will
remain here with me,

but there are others who will go.

Ma'am.

Fear not, Christopher.

It is of the ladies I speak.

- I am sending you all to the French court.
- Your Majesty.

- To serve Catherine de' Medici.
- For how long?

For two years at least, perhaps more,
should Catherine wish to keep you.

Aye. Soon all my pretty
birds will have flown.

Did you hear? To Paris.

- Ease the strain on that mainstay.
- Aye, master.

- Captain.
- Gwilym. Why are you in Plymouth?

A letter from the
queen, I bear, Captain.

Do all the little
colleens in London miss me?

Lying I would be if I denied it.
Every Whitechapel wench is weeping.

You can float up the
Thames on their tears, then.

We're commanded to sail to
London to get our canons mounted.

Two weeks wasted.

- What other news from the palace?
- Naught of moment - the ordinary.

The queen is sending her
ladies-in-waiting to the French court.

- All four of them?
- There's a bit of gossip I forgot.

Five souls may sail, if what's whispered
by the kitchen maids comes true.

- What are the kitchen maids whispering? -
Why, faith, that one of ladies-in-waiting is...

- Beasts we men are, bless us.
- Which one is it?

I was told, but the name escapes me.

A poor memory for names, I have.

- Does the queen not know?
- Not as yet, Captain, dear.

But you can no more keep a secret in court
than you can stop the rain from falling.

Dark will the lass's day be when
her secret reaches the queen.

- Are they still at the palace?
- They've gone to bid their families goodbye.

A good week ago, it was, as I remember.

Well, if you too have troubles,
drink them away with this.

Thank you, Captain.

I will find troubles
I did not know I had.

Sir Walter Raleigh to
see Mistress Throckmorton.

A moment, sir.

Sorry, sir. Mistress
Throckmorton refuses to see you.

Beth.

I said I did not wish to see you.

Dame Bragg instructed me in manners.
Clearly, you had no such teaching.

Please go. Should the queen know you had
ridden here, it would do your plans no good.

It is said that you are
being sent off to France.

Such is the queen's
command. Be off, please.

Is Mistress Throckmorton
prepared to sail?

But she's not going.

- You choose to disobey the queen?
- Yes.

I am weary of court. It
is no concern of yours.

Leave us.

Leave us.

If what I believe is true,
it's very deeply my concern.

I do not know what you believe.

I bid you good day.

Court gossip says you're with child.

So the tongues have begun
to clatter. Let them.

Is it true?

Does the queen's favourite wish reassurance
that he will not be involved? I give it gladly.

Do you think that is my concern?

I am not a betrayed milkmaid
whining for help, begging for pity.

Your name will never cross my lips.

Beth.

Beth, I've never loved
you more than I do now.

- Do not speak again of love.
- I shall never stop with you.

Nay, go your own way.
You owe me nothing.

We owe each other everything. Our love,
our child, the rest of our lives together.

Before God, girl, you'll
do nothing more alone.

- When does the queen expect you at court?
- Three weeks.

Three weeks? Not much
time. But it can be done.

Look, you. My ship must sail to
London to have her guns mounted.

Nay. 'Tis but a ruse. The queen plans
to keep you with her. I heard her say so.

Did she, now? Then the
game gets all the better.

What would you say if, in three weeks
time, the Golden Falcon sailed due west

with you and me aboard?

- For the New World?
- For our new world. Our new universe.

Beth, will you go?

Though every ship in
England barred the way.

'Tis good to see you. If you hadn't returned,
I was going to look for you myself. Is all well?

- Aye, well and better than well. Your tailor?
- At times.

This is the bed. I want it twice as wide, well
slatted, and I want the finest-grained oak.

- A rare job I'll do, sir.
- Fetch your tools and set to work.

Aye, sir.

You plan to sprawl the nights
that you need such a great bed?

Yesterday before a cleric we repeated our
vows. 'Tis now a marriage doubly sealed.

You best be about other business.

Such words as "marriage"
mustn't sully such innocent ears.

- 'Tis a dangerous thing you do.
- The outfitting of the ship must be speeded.

In three weeks we sail for
the New World, avoiding London.

Gently, Walter, gently. Have
you thought what'll happen

when the queen learns that you're
wed and you've stolen a ship?

- Her rage will shame the devil himself.
- It will pass, as all her rages have.

Elizabeth has a hunger for gold, a miser's
hunger. I'll lay it before her feet.

You mean you'll return
after these sins of yours?

When she sees what I bring with
me, she'll forgive them all.

If you return with all of the New World
in tow and anchor it off Land's End.

If adventure seems too dangerous,
you've no reason to come.

I've shared your miseries. I
may as well share your joys.

- Your men have surpassed themselves.
- Aye. Did you arrange the water casks?

- They'll be ready in ten days.
- Yes, sir.

There's a pouter pigeon from court
waiting for you in your cabin.

- Thank you, Master Randall.
- Yes, sir.

Good morrow to you,
Sir Walter. Lord Derry.

- What brings you here, Master Chadwick?
- The queen's business,

which, of course, is
your business as well.

She sends you this.

- Am I to wear it?
- Nay. There is a letter too.

Convey my warmest thanks and
appreciation to Her Majesty.

Not having heard from
you since you left,

Her Majesty is exercised to
know when she may expect you.

Ordinarily, it takes three days
sailing from here to London.

Pray, tell her that the time
it takes me will surprise her.

Upon my soul, I can believe it. I've
never seen such busy workmen as yours.

- Do you stay in Plymouth, Master Chadwick?
- Nay, I ride to London at once.

The queen does not wish
to wait of word from you.

But with your permission, Sir Walter.

Lord Derry.

Do you think he noticed the bed?

By the time ought can come of it,
we shall have been long at sea.

- What more needs my name?
- These are all for the day, ma'am.

Master Chadwick has returned. He and
Sir Christopher await audience with you.

Why did you not say so before?

Remain where you are, ladies. I can
find my own way about my own house.

You do not seem travel-stained.
You must ride a high horse.

I changed my clothes before
I ventured into your presence.

I would not care if you came to me in
rags, so long as you bring me good tidings.

I bring you strange tidings,
ma'am, if naught else.

- Gave you Sir Walter my scarf and my letter?
- Aye.

He took the scarf and read the
letter and told me to thank you.

- He sent no letter to me?
- Nay.

I asked when he'd be in London. He said that
the time it would take would surprise you.

Then he is in haste to return.
What is strange in that?

He is in greater haste than
any man ever was before.

A most unhealthy haste.

Chadwick tells that he is working
his men as though each had four arms.

But why has Master Chadwick been in such
great pains to discuss the matter with you?

Because he did not know
how to approach you, ma'am.

Approach me with what?

The strange thing is, ma'am,

Sir Walter has built a
fine bed in his cabin.

So? So? The rogue likes his comfort.

'Tis not the bed of a single man.

Are you accusing Sir Walter of... of...

I'm merely stating two facts, ma'am -

the fact of a great haste in shipbuilding,
and the fact of a great bed in his cabin.

Add to these one other element, and
fancy can take the whole thing over.

What other element?

Near Plymouth, a lady of this court is, even
now, preparing herself for her trip to France.

She has little time.

Has she chosen the captain
to take her there, or beyond?

You spend a woman's
honour with great ease.

I try to save a woman's pride.

And it is most difficult,
and most thankless.

What are you trying to tell me?

That Sir Walter Raleigh
has taken himself a wife.

All the devils do not dwell in
darkness, do they, Christopher?

Nay, ma'am.

Some of them bask in ocean sunlight
and call themselves Devon men.

- Where's the Captain?
- Of the ship or of the guard?

- Captain of the ship. Make haste, sailor.
- Aye, sir.

Where are you going? You've one order
- not to leave your post.

Aye, sir.

Welcome to the Golden Falcon. Is it
pleasure that brings you here or duty?

Both, Irishman.

I'll inform Sir Walter of your presence.

- Hatton's above with your death in his hands.
- Alone?

Ten men he has and a warrant from the
queen to bring you prisoner to London.

There's only one thing to do
- over the side and back to Ireland.

- What of Beth?
- They're after you.

Take her to Ireland. I'll delay
them to give you a league's start.

- I'll delay them. You go.
- It'll take an Irishman to smuggle her in.

Make haste. I know not
how long I can hold them.

Which is the captain's cabin? The
queen's messenger does not wait.

Lord Derry came with some silly
jest. I threw him out of my cabin.

Would you call this a jest, sir?

No, I would not. I'd call it a forgery.

The queen's hand, the
royal seal, a forgery?

There is one courtier who
has access to the royal seal.

I was sent here to demand your sword.

I'll let you have it long enough
to answer me for that affront.

I will not cross swords with
you. I gave my word to the queen.

So that's it, is it? You
hide behind a woman's skirts.

Does your vow include this?

Five men to back you. You're very brave.

I swore never to draw
a blade against you.

I took no oath concerning my hands.

Swords or hands, it makes no difference.

Take him.

Get the cursed Irishman too.

Search the ship. If he's not aboard,
search Plymouth and the highways.

- Is all well with you?
- All is well.

My skirt was caught in the stirrup.

Stop looking worried. My mother went
pleasure riding the day before I was born.

It's not that I was worried about. Look.

Ride ahead. Try to reach
Clovelly. A man named Cahoolan.

Catch the girl.

That an English sword should
reach this back of mine.

On a Friday too.

"Don't die on a Friday,"

they always said to me.

"It's bad luck for you. "

Derry.

My luck's not so bad.

The sun is shining.

Beauty herself bending over me.

You are under arrest.

We will start for London.

We have taken the Throckmorton
minx. Inform Lord Hatton.

- He rests at Lambeth this night.
- Lord Leicester.

- Beth, child.
- They've killed Derry. What of my husband?

He is in the tower and condemned to die.

I have reasoned with the
queen as best I could.

I've enlisted the help of
Canterbury and the duke, your uncle.

- What can I do?
- Nothing.

Sleep. Try to be strong for tomorrow.

Pray.

In prayer lies all your hope.

- We ride on to the tower.
- This weary girl?

She can sleep in her own
room tonight under guard.

- This is my prisoner.
- Do you wish to question my authority?

Nay, Lord Leicester.

- Show them the way, Beth.
- Thank you, my lord.

Flint and steel, quickly.

Shut the window.

Where is she?

- Madam.
- Who is it?

Lady Raleigh.

You've come to plead
your husband's life.

- Is Your Majesty all right? It was feared...
- There is no cause for fear. Close the door.

Your husband is a traitor, Lady Raleigh.

By his own admission he planned to
take a ship of mine to sail it forth.

He meant to use it for
Your Majesty's own purposes.

Is the taking of a ship in truth the treachery
with which he is to pay with his life?

You mean, I take his head
because you took his heart.

Though that were treachery
too, on both your parts.

His dirty little lovemaking
with a girl who owed me loyalty.

Is that reason enough for a man to die?

It is reason enough for two to die
- Raleigh and his wench.

We have hired a new Flemish
headsman from Rotterdam.

He'll be here by Wednesday next.

Even the Queen of England cannot send
me to that death on Wednesday next.

You will have to wait some months,
Your Majesty. Such is the law.

Some months? What nonsense is this?

Two are past. Seven are yet to go.

It is a law older than
the rule of the Tudors.

So you plead your belly.

If you kill Walter Raleigh, you
rob an English subject of a father.

Why do you do this wrong to a child?

From jealousy.

Is that worthy of the queen's majesty?

Jealousy.

You have been my
lady-in-waiting.

You have drawn these
bed hangings every night.

Bring that light, girl.

Let me show you what they hid.

20 years since a fever took my hair.

Do you think I've ever put myself on the
lists against pretty faces and empty heads?

I am Elizabeth Tudor. Men have loved me.

Not with the dandling love
you toss a white kitten,

but men have loved me because I
struck sparks from their minds.

I matched spirit with spirit.

Walter Raleigh was one.

But it is I who carry his child.

Be very proud.

When I was 18, my physicians told
me I could never bear a child.

I am glad. England was
child enough for me.

Take this strumpet away.

Take her away.

Take her away.

Sir Walter Raleigh,
Her Majesty the Queen.

Rise.

I want to look straight in your eyes,

the eyes of the man who fawned
upon me, wheedled a ship from me,

between the kisses he was
wheedling from one of my wenches.

Did she sometimes stand behind
me, Walter, and look love upon you

whilst you prated to me about
gallants and mizzenmasts?

That she did not, I swear.
Nor could I have seen her.

It seems strange, but it is true. I was blinded
with the fascination of the queen's majesty.

The fascination of the queen's treasury.

I could ill afford to give you a ship.
She cost half again more than you said.

You could afford a dozen like
it, ma'am. And do so, I beg you.

What's it to you, man? You'll be dead.

The ship won't be. The
fairest yet to ride on water.

There's a navigator named
Barlowe. Let him sail her.

He has the feel of her. He'll bring
back the wealth I would have brought you.

He'll claim that share of
the world this island needs.

I had thought to find you
thinking only of Beth Throckmorton.

She has but one chance of your
forgiveness, as has the child -

a cargo of gold such
as has never been seen.

With that in your pocket, you'll
forget a dead man whose eye wandered.

May I see her, ma'am, before they
lead me down to the parting place?

No, I'll not pander for you.

I'll see the child
is properly cared for.

And Beth?

That look. That tender look.

Once she's had her brat, she'll follow
you. The axe will still be sharp.

You have often bade
me leave your presence.

- I bid you now to leave mine.
- On what authority?

Dead men have authority. And I am one.

Walter. Walter, I needed
you, and you betrayed me.

I loved you, madam.

I loved you as a man loves a great
queen. It's that love you betrayed.

But I'm also a woman
- a woman not too young.

Madam. Madam.

I will not be served by underlings.

- You shall sail the ship yourself.
- Aye.

This does not mean I forgive
you, nor the slut you married.

I want the world you promised me.

And I don't want to
dream of a brat crying

as I dreamt last night.

I was once a brat crying

because of the headsman's axe.

Those cargoes you bring back had
best be rich and rich and rich.

Long live Elizabeth.

God save the queen.

I am not done yet, nor
will I be an hour hence.

The Golden Falcon's
starting down the Thames.

- I had not thought her nailed to the wharf.
- Come look.

I have seen ships before.

Something about this ship
might please you, ma'am.

You think to pleasure
me with such a sight?

Raise the glass higher, ma'am.

Two months have passed
and seven are yet to run.

A puking wench,

and some waves.

I must go on with the business of state.