All language subtitles for The.Shadow.of.the.Tower.S01E08.en

There, Master Warde.
Bristol fowl, Bristol cooked,

and nothing in the room
from your musical-headed Frenchmen.

All Bristol fare, sir, hand-picked.

And, er, Master Elyot, are we quite alone?

I told the Taverner I'd serve myself,
we'll not be disturbed.

- Where's the Venetian?
- He'll join us later.

Why not now? He's integral to the matter.

Fear not, Master Ashurst,
the Venetian is well advised.

I thought if we called him John.

John?

Cabot. It'd look better on the petition.

No, sir! Of Master Cabot, no mention.

Not of John Cabot,
Giovanni Caboto, John

Caboto or Giovanni whatever,
no mention!

No mention at all?

You know the court. Call him what you will.

They'd rather an
Englishman trading out of

hell than a foreigner
with a chart to heaven.

But you cannot ask for a fleet
without naming its admiral.

Passion and the purse do not mix,
Master Ashurst.

This is a Bristol venture and we employ
the services of a Venetian navigator.

- That's the bone of the matter.
- He'll not be employed!

Like as not he'll ask
the same of this here...

Christo Columbus.

We'd best not offend him.

Ah, he'll get over this offense.

A Venetian?

London's the real obstacle.

Oh... Cardinal Morton,

and all the cobwebs about Henry's purse.

No, but we do our cause ill if we depart
from plain dealing at the outset.

I daresay the Venetian's not here
because he has some idea of your intent.

He knows exactly,
I sent him the petition in rough.

With his name omitted?

He is a poor man, and poor men
do not make conditions.

Come, good Ashurst. No, er, Venetian bites.

Macché! Is no good,
I cannot understand!

- The prodromos.
- Prodromos?

The preamble. The names!

Is no good! You read to me, eh?

Oh, mannaggia!

Sebastiano, take your brother outside.

- Oh, Mama...
- Porta Sancio fuori.

Anche la Barca! La Barca. Presto.

Out!

- "To the King, our Sovereign Lord..."
- Yes, I did read that.

"Please it Your Highness of your most noble
and abundant Grace

"to grant unto us, Richard Warde,
Thomas Ashurst

"and Hugh Elyot, merchants of Bristol,

"your gracious letters patent under your
great seal in due form to be made...

"according to the tenor hereafter ensuing."

So?

It is not my petition! It is theirs!

They petition the King!

The letters patent,
they ask for themselves!

- And you?
- There is no mention.

- But you sail.
- Not for them!

But for myself.

Ah. And the King, eh?

In the name of the King. To the King
I give my discoveries, but not for nothing.

No navigator sails for nothing.

They must think the stars
are behind my eyes to blind me, yes,

and they would employ me
as they would a bosun.

Well, they are wrong.

Do they think I have no thought of my sons?

- They must have reason.
- Not enough to make me sail.

They're English,
they do nothing without reason.

Nor I.

Giovanni, ask them.

No. They ask, I accept.

Perhaps it is for the King, ah?
They are so insular.

Insular?
They trade with me like a tradesman.

Because you are poor.

Poor in pocket.

Poor in ships.

But not in spirit!

Nor devoid of obligation, no.

The letters patent, I ask for myself,
in my name and my son's after me,

for one reason.

As Columbus asked, as every navigator asks,

to buy a future!

A future? Ha!

How can you buy a future?

For every ship that sails
from such isles as I discover,

a levy should pass to me and to my sons.

No cargo can be loaded nor any trade ensue

except that the discoverer of that isle
receives his tally.

Ah...

And they want for themselves this levy,
for their futures, ah?

Certo. By omitting my name from
the prodromos, they would try,

but they must cease.

This day they must cease!

Does he sail?

Well...

Why do you send me out of the room
and leave Lewes here?

- For good reason.
- Why, to be quiet?

Because already I can see the vanity
on your face, like your father.

You would not say that to him!

I will say what is
necessary for me to say.

Is he going to petition the King?

- Whoever he petitions, it is for him.
- And whether I sail with him?

You do not sail with him!

That is for him too.

- My brother would sail too.
- Mm.

His eyes are full of it.

But not yours, eh?

How would Father provide a future?

Ha! Promises.

Like we would have a home of our own.

If only to wait in.

Still, we have you, eh?

Sebastiano put it there.

Is it so precious?

It is all your father knows
of where he goes.

Branches of trees...

toys.

Men and children.

Vanity and dreams.

Oh, mannaggia!

What you must understand, Signor Caboto,

is that addressing the King of England
is no small matter.

The prodromos is no small matter!

Quite so, but for the King
it is a matter of speculation.

And there's nothing like a speculation
to sweeten the bile of princely discontent.

The prodromos is my discontent!

We ask that you consider it
from the kingly view.

- "The kingly view!"
- What would please King Henry more

than a crusade for the digestive juices
of England?

A crusade of juices?

In search of spices to dampen the taste
of winter brine.

A quick route to Cathay, spices from Mecca,
profit to the treasury.

That's why it is important the petition
be in the name of Englishmen!

No, it is not only spices but discovery.

And it is my petition.
The letters patent are for me, I ask.

- You may well ask.
- Oh, thanking you!

After me, for my sons, oh yes.

Sebastiano and Sancio.

Your sons?

Please to be so good.

You mean you want your sons
named in the petition?

Certo. All countries discovered by me
shall not be visited by other subjects

except by trading license from me
and after me from my sons.

- Lewes, Sebastiano...
- And Sancio. He is the little one.

Impossible!

No possible?

We might be
able to accommodate...

No, no. For me and for my sons,
the license alone.

Exclusive in perpetuity?

Yes.

Now, my dear, dear Giovanni.

- John.
- Er, my dear John.

You decide John, I agree. But a merchant
is a merchant, whatever he is called.

And my name will be on the petition

before my eyes light on a compass
or my feet upon a deck because...

I know there is no Englishman
you would trust.

Now, let us not be hasty. Suppose...

No suppose!
Only petition.

Well, if your mainmast
has the strength of your purpose,

it will not lift its truck an inch
to the elements.

You do not bend a jot!

I did not come here to be bent!

I come to Bristol because it is the center
of maritime enterprise

and to ask your help in presenting
my petition, and that is all.

If your name alone is on this petition,

have you thought of the consequences
of failure? You're a navigator!

Suppose you get the blessing of

the King of England and find nothing,
what then?

- Then nothing.
- Ah, you admit that.

As stated, it is a fact,
but please, the prodromos, my name.

I fear no. Good day, Signor Caboto.

- Master Warde!
- Rest, Master Ashurst.

I rapidly am losing interest in the matter.

Signor Warde.

I fear... no!

That is no way to treat a Venetian.

Ah, without us they'll crack him in London
like a squirrel a nut.

Not so. He has too much will in him.

Then let us put it to the test here first.

I tell you, I will not sit here
and see him treated so.

Ah, sparks, Master Ashurst?

More than sparks.

My foreclosure on your debts to me.

- Oh, come now...
- No!

Ah, he'll come round to English ways
in the morning.

If I am in it,
we'll not ask him in the morning.

We'll hurry forth this day.

He asks his name on the petition,
an edge on the profits.

And I say grant it!

This day!

Lest he find his way to France or Spain.

France?

Now that Columbus has found his way
by the south,

the maritime interests
are stirring everywhere...

but England.

- I did not think of that.
- You weaken, Master Elyot.

I see my profit endangered.

I tell you flat,
I want a yes from you, or quit.

The terrier's out,
its tongue about my deficits.

Oh, principle!

We make gluttons of ourselves with virtue.

In Spain, they deceive you with promises.

In France, they eat you into the floor, ah?

But here in England, it's waiting, waiting.

They break you with indifference

and the winter of their indifference
never ends.

I wait no more.

- What?
- They bid me good day.

Then you do not sail? You do not sail!

And now we can go home to the sun!

The western passage falls to another
as to the sun.

Ha! A fig for a western passage

when I could have my husband in my arms!

Oh, it is a sad state.

You leech upon my failures
like they were savory, no?

No, Giovanni, your failures,
they give me a husband beside me,

and my children a father at home.

There's other safer seas
closer to journey, ah?

Horses? At night?

English horses, they pass by.

Not when there's fodder in front!

- Agreed.
- My name?

And your sons', as you asked.

Oh, I am grateful to you, Signor Ashurst.

We can begin!

Oh! We can begin to petition.

There are more difficulties yet.
You will have to learn to wait, still.

- If Henry receives you...
- If Henry receives me?

There are more unnatural things in London
than at the ends of the seas.

We have only begun to begin.

But if Henry does not receive me?

Well, we'll deal with that when it comes.

Take heart that from Bristol at least
you have what you wanted. See for yourself.

At last. Victory, no?

Well, a footstep on the road.

A merchant victory.
The first of my ambitions.

- Signora...
- Have you bought your future?

The petition is in my name.

- Is that the future?
- It is a beginning.

You must forgive us, Signora.

In matters of trade, the best bargain
is often struck after second thoughts.

Bargain, you call it? A parchment!

How many ships?

That is for King Henry.

And men, ah? Fools to accompany him?

King Henry's gift also.

So! Widows are made by King Henry's gift,
at one stroke of the pen!

What is this talk of widows?

It is my foreigner's fear,
this disgraceful thing.

It is universal, Signori.

But England was not made
by women wreathed in failure

and tugging at the sleeves of stout men.

Then pity England, whose nobility
would rest on the venture of foreign men!

A voyage of discovery, Signora,
is for the world.

- And a widow's grief?
- For the world also.

Noble Signor Ashurst.

So, you have overcome
your comrades' greed...

all for the sake of the world, ah?

No, for Signor Cabot, whom I trust.

There you have your answer.

No! My answer is in King Henry's gift.

I pray it will not take as long
as an English winter!

Nor chill your spirit
as sorely as it does mine!

Would she were face to face with Morton...
and on our side!

And here's the most impertinent of all.
An appeal for letters patent.

- A voyage of discovery, if you please.
- From?

A man called Cabot from Bristol.

He names his sons jointly.
Foreigners, by their names.

Bristol?

Five ships are asked for,
as bland as you like.

Your Majesty can't possibly consider it.
It would offend the Spanish mortally.

Mortally?

Their own exploration from their own land
seals off the hemisphere.

What passage does this man propose?

- He speaks of a western passage.
- Well, that is not Spanish waters.

It's verging on it.

It's not even as if it were new.
The Genoese Columbus has done it before.

This man only seeks to follow him.

What other objection is there?

It's unwise to give royal favor
to such enterprises.

It's unholy and immoral.

How so?

If the Lord God had intended
unknown waters to be made known,

He would have done so.

There are boundaries to all things
which must not be transgressed,

for it's unnatural to do so.

- Unnatural?
- Yes, Your Majesty.

It's a blasphemy to venture out
into these waters,

flying in the face of nature.

No doubt this man will ask the power
to take other souls with him to perdition.

I would consider it a mortal sin
to risk the soul of a dog... or a monkey.

I've never heard you so concerned
about these creatures.

Your ministry is suddenly enlarged?

It is the evil nature of the thing, sire.

- What about Columbus and his theories?
- Foreign theories, Your Majesty.

Mmm.

The petitioner is known to you?

God forbid.
I'm against all such enterprises on sight.

I daresay the
Bristol merchants are behind it,

anxious to regain the money
that they have expended.

They must have hoped for profit, then,
at the outset, being merchants.

Just so. They spent so long gazing in vain
at the waters, it softened their heads.

Your Majesty is well advised
to ignore them.

There are too many other claims
on Your Majesty's purse.

Oh, very well, very well.

Would I had some of the merchants' cloves
to lighten my tooth of this ache.

Some oil of vinegar, Your Majesty?

I have taken so much, my Lord Cardinal,
that it all but spurts from my pores.

Perhaps we could attend
to the remaining matters

without the benefit of your advice
on medicaments known to us.

I was informed privately
that the King had toothache.

Tooth... Toothache?

Cardinal Morton raised the usual objections
and the matter was dealt with summarily.

Objections? What objections?
Do they think I ask them to sail?

The objections are the objections
of God-fearing Englishmen.

They think it a blasphemy
to venture the expense.

And when such matters are mentioned,
they plead the cause of poor people.

But the two things are separate.

Well, London always has one deaf ear
for the populace.

They flatter the poor when it suits them.

But blasphemous? Why blasphemous?

There is much ignorance
on this island.

Then profit.

No doubt it was not properly explained.

Then honor!

Honor is with success, not venture.

But I have not come here to London to fail!

That, they do not know. Worse still,
they think that you follow this Columbus,

who likewise slipped from Henry's grasp,

and that you will propose to merge
on Spanish waters.

Not so, I go by the west.

Yes. It is my hope that Henry's ear
can be bent to see that.

Bent?

You speak of bent? Ho-ho!

Your Signor Warde would
have me bend to his petition,

and here it is again, "bend".

Is there no upright man in England?

Not when it comes to voyages
at the King's expense.

But we are not done yet.

- We're not?
- No.

I will summon Mr. Warde.

The King of Spain has his ambassador,
De Puebla, here.

Close to the ear of Henry.

If Henry is put off by De Puebla's talk,

Henry may think again.

As Master Warde says,
there's mustard in gossip.

Gossip?

We'll dangle this proposal before

De Puebla's ears,
no doubt he'll pass it on.

Mustard, gossip, talk...

Has the court its own
navigators that they find

their way by the smile
on King Henry's face?

Or the frowns of Cardinal Morton
or the coughs of his barons?

Skilled pilots all,
but Henry's the master.

He treads his way as on a spider's web.

Why, the Tower's full of eggs
he would not crush.

- The Tower?
- His citadel.

The treasury's there,
and we'll crack it yet.

Be of good heart, John,
this remains a Bristol matter.

I'll keep this, hm?

"John!" My name is gone already.

- Well?
- The petition is done

but now we try again with, er, gossip.

- Gossip?
- Yes.

They would influence
the Spanish ambassador.

If he hears the gossip he might warn Henry
and act unwittingly as our agent.

"If he hears the gossip?"

Ha! No wonder Englishmen are the only race
who cannot live with women.

They are women themselves!

What a pity the
children are left in Bristol.

They could play with them.

- Oh, shush.
- Why?

I have noticed how they keep
their women separate,

so as not to disturb the comfort
of the dogs whom they love like...

like they give birth to them.

Perhaps it would be better if you returned.

Oh, no. I stay.

Because who will mend your heart
when it is broken, ah?

As it will be, and mine too.

Here is a tale for the grave.

A wailing woman and a shipless mariner.

Have we naught better to do
than fan our failures like a flame,

here alone in London?

Do? What?

It struck me then.
I should find a name for you,

like an English bride.

- Me? Never!
- Why not?

Such caterwauling.
And the thought has not struck you?

What thought?

Listen.

- You see?
- Huh?

Listen, come closer.

- What thought? I hear nothing.
- Then I'll tell you.

My two arms are about you

and there is not so much
as a sniffle of a child.

We're alone.

- Giovanni!
- No, John, John, John, John, John.

It's like Don.

No. Giovanni.

Perhaps there are women at the ends of
the seas, speechless women, think on that.

Where is she? Ah!

Yes, to the land of the dog-eared fellow!

And the great hand!

- The great hand!
- To Herjolfsson and Red Eric!

And Hop Hip! Traveler in the land
of the men with the marked bodies.

Couldn't you speak up?

Hop Hip! And the Vinlanders
and all the sailor men.

From Cape St. Vincent
to Finisterre, a thousand a raft!

- Bristol men, you say?
- Yes, my Lord Ambassador.

- Bent on celebration.
- Oh.

What do they celebrate?

Gossip is they're
merchant adventurers

and they've struck a
bargain with a Venetian.

Venetian? There is, er, no Venetian there.

They have him hid. They're on the make,
prospecting for new lands,

riches and that.

Englishmen?

They say this Venetian
has found the back ways to Cathay,

so they spend mightily and have ordered
what they call Bristol vittles.

Bristol vittles?

Master Warde, your Thames water.

Bristol vittles, eh?

There must be profit.

Here we are, Signor.
There's coin about tonight.

Hey, did you hear this talk of exploration?

Oh, that? Wouldn't get me on it, no.

Not for a barrel of beef would I step off
the edge of the land, let alone the water.

What's the good of going somewhere
you can't see

for something you don't know
till you get there?

Ah, it's the road to nowhere, I say.

And what do they say?

Full of it.

This morning, they had the map cards out.

And there was talk of the sea passage.

Loud, confident talk.

A passage to where?

Another way to India, I heard,
round the back way.

Your man Columbus, if you ask me,
he started a fever.

Now they're onto his pickings.

Got a foreigner with them, too.

By all accounts.

- Did you hear his name?
- No, I give up listenin'.

More I hear of it,
the more I reckon it's against nature.

You should have seen them map cards.
Wicked it was, all lines on 'em.

That's not right, is it?

They say this Venetian thinks so little
of us he's brought his wife with him.

Imagine! A wife to London!

- And she stays where?
- Wherever they've hid him I wish I knew.

I've a taste for foreign gentlemen.
They've such graces and smell so nice...

Is, er, is his Excellency watching us?

His eyes bore into us.

Would I could see the
melons on that wench.

I can.

What I do for exploration!

If she can say enough and not too much...

- Carmichael.
- Signor De Puebla.

I seek His Majesty.

At Westminster they tell me
he left for his observatory here.

- No, Signor, he's at his ledgers.
- His ledgers. Ah...

Tell me, among the petitions most recent,
there has been a Venetian's?

Oh, yes, Signor, but Cardinal Morton
was against it.

Ah, good Cardinal Morton, a pious man.

And His Majesty?

His Majesty had toothache.

Almighty God is wise.

But the other day at his observatory,
he had a sextant in his hand.

- A sextant?
- An instrument for navigation.

Navigation?

The matter must have passed
through his mind once more.

He had a captain there.

- Take me to him.
- Oh, Signor...

Tell him a matter most urgent! I insist!

Oh, come, His Majesty does not
look unkindly on his minions.

And besides, I have looked after you
in the past, Carmichael.

Oh, it so happens
I have no coin on me this early,

but take me to him, I insist!

- Signor, I...
- I crave an audience, man!

In the name of their most
Catholic Majesties of Spain.

- If you insist.
- I must!

- Pray leave to disturb Your Majesty.
- You do so at risk.

It is the Spanish Ambassador, sire,
he craves an audience.

- A matter most urgent, he insists.
- De Puebla? Is there news from Scotland?

- I know not, sir.
- No dispatches most recently come?

Not to this place, sire.

What troubles De Puebla, then?

Very well.

Your Majesty, I disturb you at peril
I know well,

but I do so only with the very best
of intentions

and with Your Majesty's most precious
welfare ever close to my heart.

You bud like a bouquet, Doctor.

I'm surprised you came to the Tower,
there's precious little to eat.

Oh, indeed, I have not eaten.

Is it your creditors
or a whore gone astray?

Not poxed, are you?

- Your Majesty jests.
- What? We know you of old, friend.

Ah, Your Majesty graces me
with his friendship.

Come, get down to it, man.

Your Majesty, it has come to my ears
of a certain venture afoot in the west.

- A rebellion?
- No, no, no, a merchant venture.

Bristol merchants and a certain navigator.

- A Venetian.
- A Venetian?

So learned in the discovery of new lands
the merchants are already celebrating.

- So...?
- Your Majesty, I say this with delicacy.

There is talk of a venture to seek
a western passage to Cathay.

- Talk's cheap.
- But Your Majesty knows of the discoveries

in the name of their most
Catholic Majesties of Spain.

The passage of Christo Columbus
to the spice islands...

We know. And?

Such a voyage from England
would come perilously close.

- Not by the west.
- Oh, perilously close, Your Majesty,

and run the risk of bringing grave offense.

I felt it my duty to lay it before
Your Majesty at the outset.

At the outset?

It has not begun, then?

Ah, Your Majesty knows?

This Columbus, he was a Genoese.

- Yes, sire.
- And the other discoverer?

Your Majesty does not know him?

No, indeed. I've misplaced his name.

Oh, then I have no need to remind you.

Tell me, Doctor,

what do they do with prisoners in Spain?

Oh, they send them to sea, sire.

To sea?

Er, to the hulks as oarsmen, to rot there.

Do they?

Well, that's one way of reducing the burden
on the royal exchequer.

Oh, come. Will you have a lozenge?

- Ah.
- It will sweeten the mercury

you're no doubt in pain of.

Oh, no, Your Majesty,
not for six weeks I abstain.

Oh! I thought you was pinched.

Good day.

Did Master Cabot say for what reason
he had left?

He gave no reason.

We have good news for him.

An audience with His Majesty.

- Is that good news?
- 't is what he came for.

Is it good news?

't is what he sought
and by our diligence we have procured it.

Macché.

Master Ashurst.

Perhaps if you would move elsewhere,
my cheeks would spread more easily.

I'm cramped sore!

The Signora will excuse us?

You excuse yourselves.

Madam, we are about
your husband's business.

Perhaps it would be better
that I remained alone.

Yes, it would indeed.
There's not room here to swing a cat.

Good day to you, ma'am.

Be of good cheer.

Your husband's a stout fellow,
and with us behind him,

we'll push him to the ends of the earth.

Oh, er... Sideways, Master Warde.

Another step, he'll need a lateen sail
like an Arab dhow.

Jests again!

And every inch of me a brain!

The Signora is vexed at our inquiry.

An audience with the King of England
is nothing to me.

- But your husband...
- Is my husband.

And the sea my cross.

Oh, come.
I have every confidence in him.

And I in the manner of his dying.

Do not tell him this.

That I see the water in his hair?

His eyes pecked out?
His body laid waste by scavengers?

No, not I.

But every wind that blows...
blows him away from me.

- It's better that you do not tell him.
- Lest it would jeopardize your profit.

Lest it would mar his confidence.

He has the King of
England to tend with first.

There is my hope.

And ours, too.

Here's a difference.

I leave you with him.
Children play best together.

Ecco London vittles...

- Oh, Signor Ashurst...
- The merchant awaits you.

And there is profit in his eyes.

Donne!

The climate is not to her taste,
she bleeds here.

I have good news.

The gossip has worked.
The King will see you.

- He will?
- On the morrow at noon.

Cardinal Morton's away bishop-making.

The King's alone and
his appetite's whetted.

Whetted?

- Aye, but not as you'd imagine.
- How, then? Sit down.

Ah, his first thought
was for the prisoners in the Tower.

If they'd sail with you, he'd not
have to bear the cost of feeding 'em.

- King Henry of England?
- Yes. Doubtless it was a ruse.

But you must be businesslike
and show a good head for profit.

He has an ear for facts,
so, since so much is speculation,

beware of fantasy and curb all eloquence.

You make King Henry sound a Jew.

Oh, he's a Jew and more.
Half-French, half-Welsh.

- And none English?
- A little.

The less of that the better for me.

I'll make a plea the like of which
he's never heard.

- Be careful.
- Rest yourself.

The advocacy is up to me now,
and here's an end to gossip and intrigue.

Oh, not an end.
It never ends in England.

- But here's my hand upon your luck.
- You're a loyal man.

A Bristol man.

't is all I ever sought to be.

- Wear those leathers!
- Huh?

He'll note the patches
and approve your thrift.

My thrift is recurring.

He'll note that, too.

Take care you speak the truth.

Fear not.

I've a woman sore in need of leaving.

That is the nub of navigation, hm?

I await His Majesty.

His Majesty is arrived.

Alone and unattended?

Is a mariner not always
alone and unattended...

save by the elements?

Your Majesty.

I came alone... lest you should
alarm my advisers.

Your Majesty, I...

Juices.

Yes, you would sail the western ocean
in search of islands, continents, routes,

and all in the name of England?

You, a Venetian. Is that not so?

- Yes, sire.
- Not from Venice?

- No, sire.
- Then pray tell us, why?

Are you not more eloquent
in your own tongue,

or does your own country not please you?
Or you them?

- It is not a matter of pleasure, sir.
- Of provision, then?

They will not provision you,
and you a native?

They have not the mind for it...

Or are not fooled.

It is not a matter of fooling, sir,
but expediency.

A western passage is
of no benefit except to

those lands that border
on the western ocean.

What is England's gain I bring to England
because it seemed natural to do so.

Well, there's logic in that.

But it is speculation, is it not,
all this alchemist's material?

Well, until it is discovered,
it is speculation.

No, whether it is discovered or not
it is speculation in the matter of finance.

All voyages do not end in gold.

But proceed.

Your Majesty, I will be brief.

Be yourself, Master Cabot.

But let's get it clear first.
You seek what?

Islands in the Atlantic
or a passage to... where?

I seek first, sir, a voyage of discovery.

To the west
where no man has been that lives.

But from whence there is evidence
that passes the point of speculation.

Secondly, from the western passage,
I seek a route to Cathay.

A key to the spice trades of Mecca.

By the furthest shore of Cathay.

The assumption being that the
western passage will lead to Cathay?

- Yes, sire.
- So if a man were to sail from Southampton

in a westerly direction,

unhandicapped by continents,
as the crow would fly,

he would eventually end up...

at the back door from which he came?

Yes, sire, the world being a spheroid,

as is this globe.

Yes, I've heard the speculation,
it's all the current rage.

Though I would not put my life on it.

Oh, that is where you and I differ, sire.

Bravo, Master Cabot.
A fine sentiment.

I seek to back it by deeds.

True.

But there's more in it.
Where is the gain for the King of England?

There's none in a dead mariner
drowned by a sentiment.

The gain is in trade.

For every screw of pepper,
that graces Your Majesty's table,

the tax to the merchants of Mecca
is prodigious.

Then they bear the cost
of transportation by land.

The caravans of Arabia,
and then by sea the galleasses of Venice.

It all costs.

But I would dispense with land carriage,
and Mecca itself,

and bring the goods direct to England.

That is why the Bristol merchants call it a
cruise for the digestive juices of England.

Yes, I've heard. But where's the evidence?

Columbus f...

Columbus!

He found Indian isles,
now under the flag of Spain.

But I would go by a
more northerly latitude.

He found silver too, so I've heard.

It is so rumored but I would not give
Your Majesty false promises.

I like you for that, Master Cabot.

Proceed.

I seek the Indies, Cathay, Jepang,

all previously discovered,
but by a new way.

From Ptolemy to Marco Polo,
the accounts do not differ.

The lands are there but by other passages.

And yet here there are
legends of discoveries.

- The Vinlanders.
- Yes, I've heard of them, and more.

Your Majesty will know of the Prince Madoc,

son of, how you say, Ow-en Glen-dow-er?

You prepare your case
with princely advocacy!

But that is bardic legend.

Dreams of my Welsh ancestors
who never could spare the time

to quit their quarreling.

I wish to bring dream to reality, sire,
and the evidence is here.

Dispense with the map cards,
I'll study them alone.

This, er... This wood, sire...

It fascinates me like a rare jewel.

It comes on the current like a messenger.

What's it worth?

A continent... or nothing.

You are bold, Master Cabot.

Regard it, sire.

It is of significance.

The marks upon it are made
with tools of stone.

- Stone?
- Stone, not iron.

It is worked with stone,
as do the primitives of the Indies.

- And?
- It is, in all respects, Indian.

And then these drawings of marked bodies,
red men, and...

No, no, no. Keep to this wood.

From whence does it come?

From the Atlantic Ocean, sire.

Upon the furthermost beaches of Europe.

Swept by the Western ocean.

What does that tell you?

That its sap,
long dry, is not of this continent.

It fed on other roots in other places

and before it came trunks of trees
such as are not seen here

and bodies of men with different pigment...

- Pigment?
- Red men.

As of the Indies.

Oh, I take no risk, sire.
And I do not think you do, either.

And all this...

What is it to me?

It is as if another continent...

were sending out its call,

like a live thing.

And I know... I know it is there.

You have a tongue like silver,
Master Cabot.

Five ships, I ask, Your Majesty.

My petition granted and England
stands to steal the trade of Alexandria.

Mm-hm? How close to Spanish waters?

- Oh, I'd go by the west.
- How close?

Well, I do not know for certain, sire,
but there is room in the ocean

for the enemies and friends of England.

Yes. Little ships on a remote sea.

Perhaps even at the end of it,
all beyond recall.

And the investment goes by the color
of the water, the flights of birds,

berries and bark...

slicks of foliage on a constant current...

is the stuff of dreams and poesy.

Not finance.

This venture is in your blood, is it not?

It is, sire.

And are you a madman or a saint?

Oh...

I am a navigator, sire. Simply that.

With a merchant's instinct.

I like that grin, Master Cabot.

It ill befits the King's presence
but it matches his instinct.

I favor your petition.

- Sire!
- Er, keep me this wood.

Sire, it is yours!

The whole thing must be gone through
like a parliament bill, but I favor it.

You please me, Master Cabot.

Your Majesty is truly farseeing.

Yes.

You better get yourself off to Bristol
and await due process.

It may take some time but er...

I give you leave to take some prisoners
off my hands.

- Prisoners?
- Stout men, yes. A trifle underfed,

but they'll make good
ballast if naught else.

You see, there must be
something immediate in it for me.

The Tower is heaving and I need
something to placate my cardinal,

for this interview at least.

As to what he'll say to the rest...

God knows.

Did I hear right?
The petition is granted but no ships?

The petition is granted,
the license is mine.

No ships, no vittles,
not a crumb from the royal treasury?

His Majesty has many calls upon his purse.

He would support us
once there's further evidence.

- Lord High Admiral and no fleet!
- Woman, take away the child!

Will you never learn?
They will have you dance like a clown

when there is no expense to themselves.

She's right. He'll not part with a coin.

And end to it, eh? Put away your toys.

And let them stew.

Huh! No ships!

Who would have thought it?

The royal favor
and not so much as a rope's end.

King Henry of England!

We tried, Master Cabot, we tried.

A man can do no more.

All his life long.

- Stuff you, Richard Warde!
- Eh?

We've Bristol ships, enough and more.

They're not mine.

I've none stout enough.

A week in London and you've London guts.

Your spirit's fogged already.

I've the Matthew.

She's full rigged and decked
and free of charter to Master Elyot by May.

A good sea boat and new.

With my vittles, you can take
the western winds of spring.

The Matthew! A fine ship, I know her.

One ship?!

Your lobes are poxed!

Not mine! I'll sail too.

- You?
- Certainly.

He'll need verification
for his discoveries.

We'll explore a way to Henry's purse
a second time.

One hint of success
and the royal sleeve will open wider.

Good Thomas, your confidence in me
is the princely gift.

That I have always had, in abundance.

Oh! 't is like a wedding!

Bride and groom, with Henry's hand
outstretched to catch what drops.

Fornication by messenger!

Will you sail?

Aha! With that shrimp away I'm honor-bound.

Signor Warde, please to be so good.

The Matthew? Room for 18 men and a cat!
She's weasel-built!

No, Appledore-built, and sound.

Well, Master Warde?

I'll see thee off from Clifton.

Proud ambassador
of all the cowards of England.

But we sail?

We sail!
Finalmente! We sail!

They must, Mama.

Must, yes.

And as the land does to the sea,
so must we.

What must we do, Mama?

Reclaim of ours... what is left.

To him that found the new Isle...

ten pounds.