Original subtitles

_ - Witness the face of those who

dare challenge the word of God!

I will shine such a light into the spider's nest,

and all the world will see him for the deformed pestilence he is.

I need to know everything about you.

I have it.

The Pope has approved our plan for the Queen.

Are you prepared?

You stand her in harm's way.

What sacrifice make you for anyone but yourself?

We plan to write a play about the most dangerous man in England.

Why do you push away everyone who loves you?

Will! I saved you, now you must save me.

I want to meet God.

- I love you. - Well, then stop loving me.

I cannot.

I feel like I've let you down.

It's not me you let down.

I have found love!

[Whispers] His neck.

Presto, get a doctor.

- I'm going in with you, and that's... - Stay!

Who would care for you?

This... is what I believe in.

Richard, no!

- sync and corrections by Zac - - www.addic7ed.com -

_

Now cracks a noble heart.

Gentiles... they will mock him, insult him, and spit on him.

They will flog him and kill him.

On the third day, he will rise again.

Jesus, Mary, and mother-swiving Joseph!

That's not very prayer-like.

It's all just fabulous shit.

Heaven, God, salvation... none of it is real.

Faith is a gift.

- No one's given it me. - You must give it to yourself.

How can I give myself that which I do not have?

You have doubt,

which is closer to believing than not believing.

Doubt will not finish my play for me.

I welcomed you here for religious instruction and meditation,

not to write a play.

In my case, darling, same thing.

I can write Faustus' desires, his bargaining, his damnation

because all that is real to me.

But I cannot write his salvation.

Because he is...

you.

Have you made a bargain with the devil?

With every glorious abomination of my life.

I had found salvation in the unselfish love

of someone I loved in return. But...

that was also both our damnations.

Is that why you cry out every night?

It's time for me to leave.

That would be giving up, Kit.

God won't let you do that. Neither will I.

Linger with us a while longer.

Who's made a deal with the devil now, Robert?

Richard.

Richard, are you here?

Only his ghost.

It's The safest place in the world, the wooden "O."

You're somebody else.

You always know what to say.

Death is only pretending.

I've finished "Richard III."

I'm not doing the play.

I can't.

Richard, it... it's monumental.

You'll be hailed as the greatest ac...

I said I'm not doing it.

Hunsdon is going to recommend to the Queen that

Topcliffe replace Walsingham as England's spymaster.

What?

He will wield total power.

We must bring him down. It's our duty.

Please...

just be my friend.

What business could you possibly have

with that seditionist Southwell?

He's no seditionist.

He's written a manuscript for the Queen's eyes.

A Catholic manifesto for civil war.

I assure you, it is a plea for peace.

When the Pope himself

is plotting to assassinate Her Majesty?

False rumors.

It is Father Southwell's only desire to end

the civil violence that bleeds the very heart of England.

But he requires a man gifted in matters of state

to help negotiate that peace,

someone whom history will regard as a hero of the age.

Father Southwell believes that that man is you.

Really?

So wise and cousin to the Queen...

who can be better suited?

Exactly what does Southwell want of me?

Son...

What did Topcliffe do to you?

I would not give up Father Southwell.

"My love is as a fever..."

"longing still..."

"...for that which longer nurseth the disease."

Oh, Will.

Was your mission profitable?

Lord Hunsdon will give us a direct pathway to the Queen.

Praise God, Alice. You are a wonder.

We will be victorious.

What are you doing?

A matter to discuss with Father Southwell.

Father Southwell's engaged.

Another time.

Lord Hunsdon will place your book in the Queen's very hands.

Do you know what this is?

Peace.

After so many years of bloodshed.

And you are its courier.

Now...

I must make a fair copy from these foul pages.

I-I scribe well and quickly.

No.

But this I must do myself.

He did love me.

He did,

in his own destructive way.

Pray God he will one day find the life that you have found.

I would like to be baptized.

It's an early draft.

It's brilliant.

Richard III is Topcliffe, isn't he?

- You can tell? - Yes.

It's all for naught if Richard won't do the part.

You wouldn't believe it,

but Richard was a sore, ugly little boy.

- Richard? - With a stutter.

He was bullied horribly.

But when Father put him on stage for the first time as a page...

"My lords, a dispatch from Burgundy"...

In that moment,

he suddenly grew taller and handsome.

He could feel that the audience liked him.

That's all he's ever wanted since.

The audience can't like him. It's Topcliffe.

No, but they can understand him.

If you really want to terrify the audience,

make us see ourselves in him.

Make the monster... human.

That's it.

I have to show how a boy named Richard became Topcliffe.

You're a genius, Alice Burbage.

I know.

Thank you.

- Guards, seize him! - Halt!

Halt!

Master Topcliffe! Master Topcliffe!

Wait! He knows me!

- Master Topcliffe! - What?!

How did you become what you are?

What?!

I mean, sir, in order to draw you truly in our play,

I need to understand how you became so strong.

Take your rough hands from Master Shakespeare

and leave us.

Sir.

Allow me to change my clothes,

and I'll tell you everything you need to know.

I was an orphan, you know.

I was packed off to a brutal school

where the other boys had wealth and privilege.

They scorned me.

I found solace on the rooftop of my dormitory.

I would pray in all weathers,

beseeching God for salvation.

One of the cruelest of the boys discovered me there.

Mocked me, kicking me again and again,

until...

he lost his footing.

Fell off the roof and cracked his head.

He was still breathing,

so I stepped upon his neck.

To be merciful?

To... be... strong.

It was a sign...

from God.

For the first time, I felt absolute.

And his death did not trouble your conscience?

Conscience?

"Conscience" is a word only cowards use.

Let me tell you, Master Shakespeare...

I shall soon rise to a position more elevated

than my frightened, young self could ever have imagined.

My friends, such as yourself,

shall prosper.

My enemies shall fall into darkest hell.

Seems nearly his old self.

Not enough vinegar in London to scrub off the horror.

Nor ale to drown it.

Has he mentioned Autolycus' name?

Mother thinks you need good, thick garlic soup.

The house reeks of it.

What will make you well again?

Ale?

I didn't know you came in.

Master Burbage.

May I convey how happy I am that you are returned to us so well?

This is Master John Heminges.

He's been playing Autolycus' parts.

Who played my parts?

Well, ah, we all took turns,

but nobody could do as shitty a job as you.

Not even Will. Christ, what a ham.

I was merely modeling myself on thee.

Ooh!

Friends... a moment for... for Autolycus...

Our comrade,

a poor player

who strutted and fretted his hour upon the stage.

And now is... heard no more.

Autolycus was the second best actor in London...

and first in kindness and unselfish love for his friends.

- Aye. - Hear, hear.

Autolycus.

Autolycus!

That looks refreshing.

Hi.

No, I force myself awake to banish you from my sight.

- And how's that working out? - Leave me!

You know, you really should finish this play.

After all, it is your reward for sending me to my death.

Stop.

You hadn't had a worthy idea in ages.

And then you sacrificed me and... voilá.

Inspiration.

Clever bargain.

I am damned.

Well, obviously.

Give me peace!

Kit?

Another nightmare?

Will you hear my confession?

- Now? - Please! I must have peace.

Benedicite.

I don't know how.

You say, "Dominus."

Dominus.

How long has it been since your last confession?

A lifetime.

Shh!

Peace, hounds.

Shh!

Why weren't you there?

'Tis very late. Go home.

I longed to see thee.

I will see thee tomorrow.

Hear me now, or I shall wake every man and dog within hearing.

Pray, make it quick then.

Do you know how I survived?

Do you?

By dwelling upon all the good,

the truly good that I have known in my life.

I dwelt upon thee.

It comforted me to imagine that,

if should I live to walk out of there,

I'd find thee waiting.

I wasn't there because...

I knew if you came out, I couldn't laugh at you anymore.

Help me a bit here.

You went into a plague house to take care of your best friend.

'Tis the bravest thing I'd ever heard.

I was scared shitless.

That's what makes it brave.

I was only acting brave.

You're not that good an actor.

Who's there?

Uh... a-a-a drunkard! Uh, lost his way!

You must go.

- Let me stay with you. - You're drunk. You need sleep.

Sleep will not come if I am alone.

Please.

Richard.

Richard.

Peace. Peace, Richard.

How do you feel?

I need cabbage.

I see if we have any.

You're very kind.

Very kind and very good.

The pot's under the chair.

Dear lady,

wouldst thou aid me with me boots?

It's not the wearing that pains me,

but the bending to put them on.

Presto will help you.

- He stinks. - Leave us.

I wanted to come sooner.

- 'Tis an early hour for... - Do you have any idea

how dangerously Alice is involved with Southwell?

Robert!

You dared make Alice your emissary?

- Good morrow, coz. - She could be hanged!

She went of her own free will.

Put her in danger again, and I swear,

I will turn you over to Topcliffe myself.

You wouldn't be able to walk out of here

if I believed you would do that.

Then kill me now.

You don't mean that.

I would gladly give up my life if it meant saving hers.

Do not endanger her again.

You have to make a choice, Alice...

Will and torment and heartache, or peace.

Just get on with it, Presto. Wash.

I still don't know how words is going to stop Topcliffe.

A man's reputation is everything.

My graphite's missing.

Where is it?

I cannot be late for rehearsals.

Your sword.

We will defeat that devil Topcliffe.

Practice your letters.

Where did you run off to yesterday?

I... I thought it best to leave Richard to himself.

I needed my daughter.

I nearly lost my son.

You see, now Richard tells us, "I will commit horrible acts,

and I do it because I hate myself."

"Dogs bark at me as I halt by them."

"Why, I, in this weak, piping time of peace,"

"have no delight to pass away the time."

I am bedazzled.

You've truly found the human within the monster.

And you'll bedazzle all of London.

I can't. I'm sorry.

"Deformed..."

"Deformed.

"Unfinished,

"sent before my time...

...into this breathing world."

No, it's too graceful.

"Why, I, in this..."

"piping time of peace..."

Father, if I may.

Perhaps if you think of Richard's deformities

more as...

a shoulder that rises as a shield

against mockery,

the arm twisted from being jeered at,

hand withered like his unloved heart.

Yes, yes, yes. I-I-I-I've got it. Thank you.

"Why, I, in this weak, piping time of peace..."

He's not bloody drunk, James!

Ale break! Look to your parts!

Ungrateful arses.

To defeat Topcliffe, the audience needs

to be pissing themselves with fear, not laugher.

I know the hell you've been through.

Really? You can't possibly imagine.

I don't need to imagine.

I live with the image of my dearest uncle hung,

eviscerated alive, beheaded and quartered.

I write so I don't go mad.

- Pour your nightmare into this part. - I'm not ready.

We don't have time for you to be ready.

- If we don't defeat Topcliffe... - Enough!

I've just lost my best friend, and now you want to me

to tell my father he's an old fool who can't act.

I want you to stop cloaking your greatness

in fear and self-pity.

That's not why you lived and Autolycus died.

- You owe him this. - Swive thee!

"Now is the winter of our discontent."

"Now is the winter of our discontent."

Shit!

What about my sister, you swiving liar?!

No one will know the king's supposed to be Topcliffe!

They will! Hear me!

When he says, "I am determined to prove a villain,"

he'll pause and look directly at Topcliffe.

And everyone will know it's him,

and he'll wish himself dead.

And you'll be part of it

because you'll be there on stage, too,

playing the prince.

What? Acting? Piss on that.

"London's your oyster!" "I didn't steal no dress!"

You're the best actor in the company.

I can't read the words.

Then I'll teach them to you.

Richard got's to play Topcliffe.

"Now is the winter of our..."

It'll take more than a limp and a goddamned hump!

Father...

I should play the King.

Ah.

You, too, Richard?

Will wrote it for me.

I don't give a damn who he wrote it for.

This is my theatre. I built it with my bare hands.

And I'll play any damn role I want.

When will you start believing in me?

I know I've been too much a manager

and too little a father to you.

But I do believe in you.

And after what you've been through, I...

couldn't bear but see you hurt again.

You not only made this theatre.

You made me.

Anything I am, or ever will be, comes from you.

So you will be playing King Richard when I play him.

And I am ready.

"The weary way hath made you melancholy."

"No, uncle",

"but our crosses on the way" have made it tedious,

wearisome, and heavy."

I got that bit right, didn't I?

And the next bit?

"I want more uncles here to welcome me."

"Sweet prince, the untainted virtue of your years

"hath not yet dived into the world's deceit.

"Nor more can you distinguish of a man

"than that of his outward show,

"which, God, he knows, seldom, or never jumpeth

with the heart. Those uncles..."

Now we've got ourselves a play.

"...were dangerous. Your grace attended

to their sug'red words..."

It's the best you've ever written.

You found what was missing.

Thanks to thee.

It was agony trying to write this play

without thy good counsel.

Why shouldn't we be able to work together?

Why indeed?

Alice...

all those hateful things I said that broke us apart...

I only said them because your mother begged me to.

My mother?

She wanted you to have a chance at happiness.

And I thought she was right.

But if I'd known it would drive you to...

Southwell,

I'd have rather cut out my tongue...

Enough.

My faith is strong.

And It fills my heart with a love

greater than I've ever known.

I'm going to be baptized... tonight.

What?

No, stay and work with us tonight.

- I need you. - Will...

my choice is made.

♪♪

Come, man. You said you had useful information.

What is it?

♪♪

I know of a Catholic plot to kill the Queen.

And what do you know?

Where is he?

It hurts, doesn't it?

Losing the one you love.

After all, it's why we're both here.

When will my son be released?

When you tell me where Southwell is.

I cannot betray Father Southwell.

Alice.

For Lord Hunsdon...

a clean copy with no scribbling in the margins.

I care not what you do to me.

But you do care

what I do to your son.

Did you sleep after I left you?

I could not sleep because you left me.

Peace will come,

and then you will write my story,

and we will inspire the world.

Alice.

Deus, benedictionem tuam effunde

per Christum Dominum nostrum.

Amen.

It's time.

In nomine de patris et filii et spiritus sancti.

Will!

Amen.

You...

you need not sleep alone tonight.

Yet sooner or later, I must.

I may as well begin to face it now.

Of course.

Could do without your snoring anyway.

Night, Moll.

Night.

Yah! Yah! Whoa!

You know your places. God be with you.

...baptizo in nomine patris

et filii et spiritus sancti. Amen.

Forgive me, Father.

Aah!

Father, quick.

- Alice! The book! - No, no, no! Alice, no!

Go!

Seize them!

Traitor!

Traitor!

I need the book!

- Father... - Wait!

- You! You there! - Shut the door!

Go!

Hey! Catholic!

Go!

Come here!

You let Alice be taken to save yourself?

- It was God's will. - You merciless hypocrite!

My sins are nothing compared to yours!

Be still!

Where are the others?!

Come on. Go! Go! Go! Go, go, go!

Quick! Run!

Southwell's book for the Queen.

No!

Mary, Mary, quite contrary.

Where did the traitor go?

He is no traitor.

He will bring peace to England.

Please... read his book.

Book? No. I saw no book.

You must read it.

Where... is... Southwell?

I know not. I swear.

Strip her.

But, sir...

- Now. - ...hallowed be thy name.

Thy kingdom come, thy will be done...

...on Earth, as it is in Heaven.

Give us this day...

What in God's name are you doing?

Sir Francis. Should you be out of bed?

You completely ruined our scheme!

- Marlowe was undercover. - I was in the very room with Southwell.

But because of your blundering, he and his network are fled.

This woman knows where Southwell is.

She knows nothing! She is a pawn, a recent convert!

Sir, there is a book, Southwell's plea for peace.

- She lies. - Please. Marlowe saw it.

Yes.

There was a book.

You are a liar, a degenerate, and a traitor.

Sir Francis, do not believe his fabrications.

From the very beginning, he's played us both like a pair of flutes!

You are the liar, you sadistic piece of shit.

Rapist, murderer,

desecrater of all that is decent!

Enough!

Both of you desist, or by God, I'll have your heads.

I don't believe I can trust either one of you.

Sir Francis, let me test her.

The Queen takes great exception to torturing female prisoners,

as you well know.

Is it your wish to give the Catholics another martyr?

- Hmm? - She is a traitor.

Then charge her as such,

or release her.

We have laws in this land. I suggest you use them.

Thomas, Thomas...

Thank you.

Will.

You're baptized.

Jesus said, "Knock and the door will be opened,"

so I knocked.

I love you.

I know.

I'm sorry I wasn't there.

It's all right.

The door will open for you, too.

When?

Soon.

Very soon.

Will, Will!

Will! Topcliffe arrested Alice.

What?

- What's wrong? - I did what I could.

Walsingham forbid him to torture her, but he has her.

Make haste!

Hail Mary, full of grace, be always with thee.

Blessed be thou amongst women.

Blessed be thy fruit of thy womb, Jesus.

How many copies are there?

Where are the copies?

You fear Father Southwell's words.

We are not scared of you. You have fear and pain,

but we have words.

And Father Southwell's words will make monarchs tremble,

long after you are dust.

I forgive you.

You... forgive... me?

Where are your words now, whore?

Dirty, Catholic whore!

- sync and corrections by Zac - - www.addic7ed.com -