Original subtitles

(Bell tolls)

(Coughs)

(Splutters)

It is time.

(Old man coughs)

Arthur?

No, Father.

Arthur is dead.

It is me. Henry.

Ohh...

Henry...

Your brother's widow, Katherine.

You must take her as your wife. England needs Spain.

Yes, Father.

There are many who would usurp the throne,

watching and waiting in the shadows.

I am ready.

Are you? Then, tell me...

What is the most important thing to do when you are king?

Make glorious war, Father.

Recapture the spirit of Agincourt.

Expand the territories in France. Keep the Scots at bay.

- Deepen the treasury. - But what else?

To be a really great king, there is one thing you must do above all others.

You must secure the family line.

Have...a son.

(Old King gasps)

The King is dead.

ALL: Long live the King.

She's still in labour. She's still in labour.

MAN: Push!

Push!

(Sobs with exertion)

One more. One more, that's it.

(Screams)

(Sobs)

(Baby cries)

MAN: It's a boy.

It's a healthy boy.

God save the King.

(Baby cries)

(Laughter)

I said, so the King of France wishes to settle one of the richest provinces in the kingdom

over a game of chequers?

I didn't have the heart to tell him that when I was a child, I played nothing but chequers.

And if we'd have actually played, I'd have given him a terrible beating.

So, I let him keep the bloody place.

(Laughter)

In a couple of years, I'll send Norfolk back there.

To take it back!

(Cheering)

Oh, ho. (Laughs)

Congratulate me, Wolsey.

I am father of a baby boy.

Your Majesty.

A healthy baby boy.

I have named him Henry Fitzroy.

As for his mother, the Blount girl, we shall give her land and money.

And as for the boy, he shall be properly educated.

And have a princely household supervised by Seymour here.

And I will confer upon him the titles of the Duke of Richmond and Somerset.

And you, Thomas, you shall be the boy's godfather.

That is, if you have no objections, as Cardinal, to be godfather to a bastard,

as well as father to several of your own.

It would be an honour, sir.

Yes.

Well, Thomas, it seems that I am capable of having a son after all.

And now I have done my side of the business, you must now do yours.

- And what is that? - Legitimise him.

Legitimise him and give him the succession.

I beg you, no.

The people would never accept it.

Well, they will do what I say. I am their king.

It would have terrible political consequences.

For Spain, it would be as good as a declaration of war.

Your son would have an enemy in Mary, your daughter.

The country would be split into two.

What do you suggest, then, hm?

I suggest you keep trying for a legitimate son with the Queen.

No, no. Please.

I can't. We've been trying for 15 years, Thomas.

But your luck will surely change soon.

Hm.

(Laughs)

Master Cromwell.

I want you to establish if the Queen still bleeds.

I will speak to her physicians.

The King needs an heir and soon.

While he doesn't have one, his enemies plot his downfall.

(Thunder rumbles)

Sirs, these are sad times.

We have a king with no legitimate right to be king.

A butcher's son for a cardinal, who forces us into alliances with France and Spain.

It's time we sent them both to their graves...

Aye, My Lord.

..and put a rightful heir, a Plantagenet, back on the throne of England.

MAN: Yes.

So, Lords...are you with me?

Aye.

- Aye. - Aye.

- Aye. - Aye.

- Aye. - Aye.

Aye.

- Aye. ALL: Aye!

So go back to your estates, prepare your armies and meet me outside London in three days.

So...

Buckingham, Derby and Wiltshire.

- Who else? - Lord Montague, sir.

And Lord Abergavenny.

It's a powerful group.

You may go.

(Sighs)

Padre nuestro, que estas en el cielo, santificado sea tu nombre;

venga a nosotros tu reino; hagase tu voluntad en la tierra como en el cielo.

- Por favor... HENRY: Come on, Katherine. Come fo bed.

I am praying to Casilda of Toledo, patron saint of fertility, for her intercession.

Next week I begin another pilgrimage to Walsingham.

Come here.

Be a woman to your man.

What is this?

A hair shirt, My Lord.

Why?

I just want God to take pity on me... and answer my prayers.

Your skin is so raw.

It's...drawn blood.

It doesn't matter.

The suffering will be worth it in time.

Now let me give you a son, husband.

Katherine... Katherine...

I just want to be a good wife.

You are.

I just want to make you happy.

You do.

Have we not been happy these past 15 years?

Yes. Yes.

But... why?

Why does God punish us this way?

(Sobs) Why? Why?

I don't know, Kate.

I don't.. know.

(Sobs)

(Conversation and music)

MAN: Congratulations, Thomas.

Your daughter's done you proud.

I shan't celebrate till the ring's on her finger.

I hear the boy's father, the Earl of Northumberland, is still against it.

Well, don't worry about him. I have the King's ear on this.

He's assured me he'll grant you his blessing.

J Stately galliard

Well, Anne, one of the highest-ranking noblemen in the land

snared by a humble knight's daughter from Kent.

- You sound surprised, brother. - Well, lam.

You must admit, the odds were against it.

ANNE: Percy is marrying me, brother, because he loves me.

And because... I've learned how to please a man.

And you? Do you love him?

A lot of dangerous lies are spoken about love.

What I want from Percy is security.

And when I look at our poor sister Mary, who made the mistake of loving our king,

well...I realise how precious such security is.

(Horse whinnies)

So, where are they?

They'll surely be here, My Lord.

There. Derby's banner.

- He comes. - Excellent.

And from here, Wiltshire.

Welcome, one and all.

(Cheering)

Good God.

(Screams)

(Tramping of feet)

So, my father was right.

He warned me against you.

He had a bad conscience.

Ours is a legitimate claim to the throne, as well you know.

My father saved this country when your degenerate ancestors left it in ruin.

Now, I accepted you were a descendant of the Plantagenets.

I gave you land and titles as your compensation.

But, obviously, it was not enough for you.

Here. Take it.

Take it.

But you'll have to kill me first.

Argh!

HENRY: Take him to the Tower.

(Moans in pain)

(Screams in agony)

Argh!

The good Cardinal does his work well.

The Cardinal enjoys his work too much to be good.

I don't like him.

And I don't like the power he has over you.

Thomas is a loyal subject, who does what is required of him.

Unlike certain people.

If His Majesty is referring to me, perhaps he has forgotten...

I have carried six of his children.

Five of which were born dead and one is a daughter, which is of no use to me.

- That is not my fault. - Well, whose fault is it, then?

I am capable of having sons.

That you're capable of sowing bastards up and down the country, that's well known.

And why, madam? Ask yourself that.

This country needs stability. It needs a male heir.

Without one, the throne is at risk.

(Peacock caws)

(Hum of conversation)

J Trumpet fanfare

Must I do this, Thomas?

It won't take long, My Lord.

And it's a useful way to buy allegiance.

Is everything political?

Marriage above all things, Your Grace.

Hm. You're right there.

J Trumpet fanfare

Sir Edward Seymour and Mistress Katherine Fillol.

Ah. Edward.

How's my son? Hope you're looking after him well.

EDWARD: He's...

- progressing well, sire. - Hm.

Excellent. And who's this rose you've brought with you?

Mistress Katherine Fillol.

Sir John's daughter.

He's a good man.

You have my blessings, Katherine.

Keep young Edward warm in the cold Wiltshire winter.

I will, Your Grace.

Lord Henry Percy, Your Grace. And Mistress Anne Boleyn.

Boleyn? Mary's sister?

WOLSEY: Recently returned from France, My Lord.

Well, come on. Let's see your face, woman.

Or do you hide it for good reason?

(Henry chuckles)

(Laughter)

So...

Anne...

..you join us from France?

Yes, Your Majesty.

Speak French, Percy?

- Not a word, My Lord. - Well of course not.

Why would you? You're a sheep farmer from Northumberland.

(Laughter)

You were at court there?

Yes, Your Majesty.

Tell me, I'm curious.

How does it compare with ours?

Comparisons are meaningless, Your Grace.

Since France belongs to England,

whatever attributes its court might have are yours anyway.

And the King of France?

Our ladies in court are eager to hear of his...reputation.

As aman.

Well, for reputation read fantasy, My Lord.

Talk among the ladies in France was not so favourable.

(Laughs)

So, Anne...

you're about to marry Percy here.

With your blessing, Your Majesty.

Northumberland...

is a long way from court.

- We will frequently come down. - Of course.

Of course you will.

(Murmuring)

Wolsey.

Everyone else meets the King and is tongue-tied, but you.

Did you notice how he looked at you, hung on your every word?

On my every compliment, you mean.

Henry Tudor is a vain man and vain men are easy to flatter into submission.

Quite the opposite to my husband.

My Lord Percy.

Mistress Anne.

What?

I realise you're disappointed,

but the fact remains there's an unbridgeable gulf in rank between you.

An earl and a knight's daughter?

It violates all aristocratic protocol.

And what, my Lord Cardinal, would you know of aristocratic protocol?

You're the son of a butcher.

My God, you will regret this.

My Lord, stop before you say something rash.

Leave us a moment.

I'll come to you directly.

I beg you...

..my Lord Cardinal, leave Lord Percy and I be.

If the King is looking for sport outside his marriage, let him find it elsewhere.

Marriage between you and Percy is inappropriate.

Please, he's already been with my sister. Can he not spare me?

That is all there is to it, Mistress Boleyn.

Please.

You can persuade him.

He listens fo you.

Everyone knows you're like a father to him.

That is all, Mistress Boleyn.

No.

(Door slams)

(Crows caw)

(Jeering)

- Traitor! - Shame on youl!

WOMAN: Traitor! Traitor!

I come here to die.

And I make no argument.

May God bless and protect...

our just and noble king.

I should have had him burnt.

Never was there a gentler monarch.

(Jeering)

Jesus, save my soul.

(Cheering)

Oh, my God!

The King's coming!

The King's coming.

The King is coming!

You must change, girl.

Do so quickly, for the King will be here shortly.

I shall not see that monster. Shame on you for admitting him.

What?

He broke my marriage for no good reason. I will not see him.

Anne, you will come down here immediately.

I say, come down here! At once!

Lady Elizabeth, forgive this unexpected intrusion.

An honour, Your Grace.

Your Majesty.

- Your Majesty. - Your Majesty.

HENRY: Ah, Mary.

Oh, for God's sake, someone get her a chair, quick.

George, you'll join us for the hunt this afternoon?

- If it is His Majesty's pleasure. - Itis. Excellent.

And seeing Anne again. Where is she?

- Upstairs, Your Majesty. - Then would someone fetch her?

- Of course. - Unfortunately, no.

She's...not well.

Oh, really?

Then I shall go pay respects myself.

Anne!

Anne...

(Sighs)

Your Grace.

I'm sorry to see you're sick.

A light fever.

What a coincidence. I have one too.

Although a shrewd physician would call it by its proper name - "impatience".

At seeing you again.

His Grace is surely mistaken.

It is my sister Mary he's come to see.

On the contrary. It is you.

Yes, but she's pregnant. With his child.

That she's pregnant is undeniable. That it is mine, is not.

You should be careful what you say.

Your words might cause offence.

You imply that my sister does not know the father of her child?

- Now whose words give offence? - Happily, your sister is about to be married.

To a provincial bookkeeper.

Organised by Wolsey to render her respectable.

The Cardinal keeps himself busy in this family, making one marriage, breaking another.

If he did break your marriage, Anne, it was because it needed to be done.

Your union with Percy...

..was unacceptable...

tome.

How acceptable is it for my sister for His Grace to sweep in,

do as he pleases and leave without...

Your fever runs high.

You forget to whom you speak.

I know exactly to whom I speak.

I speak fo the man who's torn this household apart.

Why do you not confess the real reason you broke my marriage?

It had nothing to do with rank. You thought you could do to me what you did to my sister.

I can do anything I want.

I am the King of England.

Divinely appointed.

My will is the will of God.

Well, then, come.

Have your divine will and be gone.

Then I can return to my Lord Percy.

You will return to court tonight

and will report for duty in the Queen's household tomorrow.

I look forward to seeing you there.

(Thunderclap)

(Horse whinnies)

(Horses' hooves reverberate)

(Cheering)

(Whinnies)

Who is he?

From Scotland, My Lord. A professional. Undefeated.

Really?

Mistress Anne.

I'm pleased to see you.

I trust your new accommodation at court is comfortable?

- As comfortable as prisons get. - Oh, come now.

It's hardly a prison, is it?

It's a room where you are held against your will.

I've been thinking about what you said about your sister.

And you're right. I should do something for her.

So I've decided to give her land and make her a good marriage.

I've...also given your father the title Earl of Essex,

so your brother George becomes Lord Rochford.

And my husband? When do I get him back?

That I cannot do.

But you're king. You can do anything.

Your husband already belongs to someone else.

What?

His parents rushed through a new marriage before he could protest.

I'm sorry.

Sir Francis Bryant.

Now we'll see what your Scottish knight has to offer.

Watch this.

(Crowd roars)

Fetch my armour. Fetch my armour!

COURTIER: His Royal Majesty Henry Tudor.

Protector of the Faith. Defender of the Realm.

King of England!

(Cheering)

(Horse whinnies) - Again.

Ye-e-e-es!

WOMAN: The plague!

- Plague! - The plague!

MAN: The boy has the plague!

- (Woman screams) MAN: He's got the plague!

It's an isolated case. Nobody else at court is sick.

The wind brings it closer, Your Majesty.

- Why can't we stay at Richmond? Or Windsor? - Too close.

I can't leave London now.

I must stay here. It's vital I stay in London.

Your Grace, you are King of England and at present without a male heir.

Very well.

ANNE: Thank God he's gone.

Maybe now I can have some peace.

Come, Anne. That may fool others, but not me.

What?

You've developed feelings for the King.

Uncle!

And him for you. Why else do you think he's gone?

Well, he's gone to be safe from the plague.

What plague?

The nearest case is 40 miles away.

But the boy, the boy at the joust?

Had a fever. Nothing more.

This is Wolsey's work.

He's seen how the King looks at you, he can see the dangers, and has taken him away.

What dangers? No threat.

The Cardinal knows full well I could never be more than the King's mistress.

Under normal circumstances, yes, but these are not normal circumstances.

The Queen is in trouble.

There is talk throughout court of the illegitimacy of their marriage.

Add to that fact that the King has taken a shine to you, and is desperate for an heir.

What are you saying?

I'm saying it's in your hands.

You can take this as far as you'd like to go.

Dearest Anne...

..the misery of this enforced separation makes each day feel like a week,

each week a month,

each month a year.

The memory of your beauty is still so strong.

No reply.

Dearest Anne,

three weeks have passed since I last wrote fo you and still no reply.

Have I somehow offended you?

In which case, please let me know that I can make amends.

He spends night after night writing letters and sending her gifts.

Don't worry. I've seen this before.

As soon as the King has his way with her, he'll discard her.

But she plays him wisely, expertly withholding her affections,

bestirring him into a frenzy.

Anne, I implore you fo write because not to hear from you is not fo live.

My Lord, the reason I have not written is not because I wish to cause you offence...

quite the opposite...

but to protect myself from disappointment.

You are married, after all.

However, your generosity has touched my heart and now I feel compelled to write.

Indeed, so delighted was I by His Majesty's generous gift of a bracelet

that I feel...

that I shall never be able to take it off.

That it shall become part of my body, and join my heart, and my breath

in waiting impatiently for My Lord's safe return...

Ah! Ha ha hal

Ahhh!

..untit when, I pray, he might enjoy the token 1 send him as a symbol of my growing loyalty

and affection.

Dearest Anne...

..the proofs of your affection give me great delight and satisfaction.

Should it please you on our next meeting fo become my mistress...

..I promise you that I will reject from thought and affection all others save yourself.

No reply.

Dearest Anne,

I do not understand.

One day you write and send me tokens of your affection.

The next, you punish me with silence.

Why?

If you desire an end fo this friendship, Just say so and put me out of my misery.

Anything but the torture of this inexplicable silence.

You come from court in London?

Yes, My Lord.

Anything from Mistress Boleyn?

No, My Lord.

Nothing.

Wait. Boy.

One moment. What's your name?

John, sir.

Well, John, can you keep a secret?

Come on. Wake up.

The King is here.

- What? - He waits for you in the garden.

Oh, my God.

Help me get dressed.

Your Majesty.

And I thought I had remembered your beauty.

Anne, I must ask you.

You received my letters?

Yes.

Yes, I did.

Then why no response?

My Lord, my desk is covered in responses.

A dozen letters I must have written and rewritten but just...never sent.

Why?

Why? Because... Because I cannot have you.

But you can.

Did I not make myself clear?

Oh, yes. You said I could become your mistress.

My one true mistress whom I would honour above all others.

But still, sir, you are married.

Yes, I am married. As a favour to my dying father, no more.

My heart is not taken.

I give my heart to you.

Yes, but while you are married, we are...

We're doomed for ever to meet like this, in secret, speaking in whispers.

Why do we continue to discuss this? I beg you...

No. His Majesty can take his pleasure elsewhere.

The court is filled with women ready to give him what he desires.

I have no interest in any other.

I want you.

While you are still married, all you can give me is the insult of the title of mistress

and our sons the title of bastards.

If you loved me as you claim, you wouldn't want to hurt me like that.

No.

No, you're right.

My guards. Come to take me away.

I crept over the wall like a schoolboy to escape them.

Goodbye, Anne.

Goodbye.

Wait!

- You sent for me, My Lord? - Yes.

I want you to test the validity of my marriage.

Why, My Lord?

Because I love Anne Boleyn. And I will have her if it's the last thing I do.

But the Queen is still alive.

Princess Katherine is alive.

I am of the opinion there is no such person as the Queen.

My Lord, there is, and she is your wife.

She is my brother's widow.

You were granted dispensation by Rome.

Because the Pope wanted to strengthen his alliance with Spain.

- Because you insisted. - Are you debating with me?

No, My Lord.

You have read Leviticus.

"He who uncovers his brother's wife's nakedness shall be childless."

But her marriage was never consummated.

Whose word do we have on that?

Do you really think that my brother, a hot-blooded Tudor,

would be married for six months and not consummate his marriage?

My Lord, do not do this, I beg you.

This will tear the country apart.

What's the alternative?

To leave my throne to a bastard daughter conceived in an unlawful marriage?

You would call Princess Mary a bastard?

My duty is to have sons.

I promised my father. Would you have me disobey him?

No.

Would you have the King of England live in sin with a woman who cannot lawfully be his wife?

- No. - Then give me Anne Boleyn.

Very well.

I shall write to Rome.

In Holland, people have had enough...

In Germany too.

..of a corrupt Roman Catholic Church

where simple working people pay priests with their hard-earned money

for miracles like this.

(Laughter)

Well, I say, here in England, we have had enough too.

Yes!

We don't want a decadent Church of Rome.

No!

We want a strong Church of England.

Yes! Yes!

I have served the Cardinal for five years.

In that time, I've seen him control the King to such an extent

you'd wonder actually who was the king.

Yesterday, Henry Tudor reminded everyone who actually wears the crown.

I tell you, he is set upon this Boleyn girl and not just to bed her.

He wants her as his queen.

Good God.

This is it, Cranmer. This is our chance.

Anne Boleyn is one of us. A reformist. She reads Tyndale.

But with Wolsey in place, what can we do?

Wolsey is safe only as long as he delivers the King what he wants - a divorce.

With his friends in Rome, Wolsey can do that.

Eh?

Rome is in the Emperor's hands - the Queen's nephew.

Whilst that is the case, the Pope will never agree to the divorce.

And if that happens...

and Wolsey fails...

Who is it that you want instead of me?

Is it her?

The whore Boleyn?

"Who" is of no importance.

What matters is that I am given a son.

You'd put me, your queen, aside for a whore?

- I need your answer. Yes or no? - No.

- Then I order it. - And I refuse.

I am the King of England. I can have what I want.

Even a king cannot break apart what God has put together!

Why won't you do this?

For your good and the good of the country,

I want to save you both from her.

Don't be blind as well as foolish. You are being used.

Silence!

I've taken the liberty of hanging portraits of your relatives,

your family's coats of arms.

In every corner, you'll notice your initials have been carved in gold.

It must be killing you to do this.

You've tried to get rid of me a thousand times. And now...

you give me your own apartment.

You're still angry with me.

I was hoping you'd take this gift as an invitation

to put the past behind us, make a clean start.

You'd like that, wouldn't you?

Now that your future depends on me.

Yes. If you fail with the papal legate,

fail to give the King his annulment,

only someone very close to him might be able to dissuade him from...

..well...acting on impulse.

The papal legate has assured me it will go smoothly.

If it does, My Lord, I will be queen

and in a position to alert the King fo your corruption and greed.

You cannot win, Cardinal.

Don't be deluded, madam.

Your new-found power is not about the King's love for you.

Oh, yes, it is strong at the moment.

Very strong.

But deep down this is about a son.

That's why he wants a divorce from Katherine.

And it's what he wants above all else from you.

You give him that? Oh, yes. Your position will be unassailable.

You fail...

..and I guarantee this power you have will desert you overnight.

The cold wind of persecution that blows in Katherine's face at the moment

will turn on you.

CROWD: Long live Queen Katherine, our one true queen!

Long live Queen Katherine, our one true queen!

(Chanting continues)

Wolsey met with the papal legate.

This trial is proceeding for appearance sake only.

We as good as have our result.

Rome is in the Emperor's hands - the Queen's nephew.

I will not be refused.

I promise.

You will be queen by Christmas.

CROWD: Queen Katherine, our one true queen!

What? Even now?

You don't agree to be my mistress?

You know full well I will conduct myself like a mistress

just as soon as I am your wife.

You drive a hard bargain, Anne.

Trust me. It'll be worth the wait.

(Cheering and chanting)

COURT OFFICIAL: Henry, King of England, come into court.

What did I do to upset you,

that a maid of mine should turn against me like this?

You failed to give England an heir.

And that upsets you so?

What upsets the King, upsets me.

Let me tell you this.

You want me to lie before God and admit my first marriage was consummated.

Well, it was not.

You want me to retire

and withdraw my daughter's claim as sole rightful heir to the throne.

Well, I shall not. Not in a thousand years.

Not if you drive me to within an inch of my life.

So I hope you have the belly for a fight, Anne Boleyn.

Because I'll fight you every inch of the way.

Your Majesty...

Your Majesty.

My Lord...

My Lord...

How have I offended you?

For 20 years, I've been a true, obedient wife.

I've loved all those whom you loved and given you children...

though it has pleased God to take them out of this world.

You know when you had me at first, I was a true maid.

Without touch of a man.

So, I beg you, dear husband, to spare me all this.

But if you will not and I am to be tried...

You are, Madam. You are.

Then...

Let it be in a proper court,

and by the only authority I recognise.

I have appealed my case to His Holiness, the Pope...

..and expect his reply any day.

(Murmurs of astonishment)

Since it has pleased the Queen to absent herself from the court...

the trial will simply continue without her.

The following morning,

Prince Arthur emerged from his bedchamber asking for wine.

Because, he said, it had been hot work being in Spain that night.

- What did you take that to mean? - I think the meaning is obvious.

It was his wedding night and Princess Katherine was from Spain.

Thank you. That is all.

We shall now retire to consider the verdict.

From His Holiness, the Pope.

All rise.

My Lords.

I have just received a letter from my master, His Holiness the Pope,

which revokes, with immediate effect. my authority fo try this case.

I therefore have no alternative but to adjourn this court.

(Murmuring)

You said you had Campeggio in your pocket, that the verdict was ours!

It was. The Queen's direct appeal to the Pope surprised us all.

- You should have foreseen it. - How?

Instead, you have humiliated your king.

Your Highness, I fear I've made an enemy of Lady Anne for reasons I do not know.

I have the King's interests at heart and see how you betray them.

- No-one has ever served you as I. - While serving yourself first.

I've protected and looked after you as if you were my own son.

He puts himself as an equal to your father, the King.

He lives in palaces that are larger than yours

and behind your back, has amassed wealth far greater than yours.

Mistress Boleyn is still naive about the court's ways

and has swallowed whole some idle rumours.

Mistress Boleyn is extremely well informed and has compiled a list of your transgressions.

- Would you like to hear them? - Stop it! Stop it!

I can hardly hear myself think!

I cannot have you both in such disagreement!

Well, then, you must choose between us.

If you trust and prefer the Cardinal above me, then I shall go.

But would never return to court again.

Anne...

I beg you, don't make me do this.

Come here.

I thank Your Majesty.

You have always served me well. You've been like a father to me.

And I will go again to Rome on your behalf.

No, it's too late.

My Lord!

My Lord...

(Rattling of irons)

No, My Lord. My Lord, no!

No, My Lord!

Let go of me!

Thank you, My Lord.

So, Cranmer, are you all right? Do you need anything?

No. I am ready.

We have found a law - an ancient law -

which declares that it is treason

fo acknowledge any higher authority than the will of the King.

I take it the will of the King is to divorce the Queen and marry Lady Anne?

Yes.

Then, under the terms of this law, the Church is obliged to grant your will

because it is reasonable to say that the Pope is a higher authority than the King.

Where does this law come from?

It was discovered by doctors of divinity at our great universities

and dates from the time of King John.

- And you are satisfied this is valid? - Absolutely, My Lord.

That would mean breaking with the Catholic Church.

Can't we find another way? Can't we go back to Rome?

What? And be humiliated again?

England's sovereign being told what he can or cannot do by decadent foreigners?

His Majesty should not forget

he comes from a line of ancient kings who predate Rome's authority.

A simple act of supremacy would merely restore things to their rightful place.

But I would be excommunicated and go to hell.

The Pope cannot send you to hell.

As King of England, you would be head of the Church

and God's highest ranking servant on earth.

You would simply be excommunicated from the corruption of Rome, Your Majesty,

and not from the love of God.

Oh.

Marry me.

All this to have a son?

No.

For your love, Anne.

God take pity on me, for your love.

If I love you...

will I be safe?

Of course.

Do I have your word?

My word, my heart.

My life.

Well, then, God help me.

(Laughter)

(Hammering at door)

Madam...

it is the King's will you absent yourself from court and retire to Moor Park.

How can I absent myself when I am his queen?

I must inform you, you are no longer his queen.

He cannot do that to us.

Take the girl.

Leave her alone.

- Leave her alone! - Take your hands off me!

Mother, do something.

- How dare you? - Stand up for yourself.

You may see her again when you agree to the King's wishes.

That I declare my marriage invalid,

making myself a whore and my daughter a bastard?

Never.

I am the Queen, the King's lawful wife, married in the eyes of God.

And no hastily drawn bill, no ceremony held in secret, can change that.

Do you, Henry Tudor, take thee, Anne Boleyn,

to be thy lawful wedded wife?

I will.

What is it?

No...

I was...

I was just wondering...

Now that we have each other, you won't...

What?

You won't lose interest?

- In you? - Mm.

The most captivating...

beautiful...

.freethinking woman in the world.

How could any man lose interest in you?

Once you dispose of one queen...

I disposed of her...so I could be with you.

Yes, and because she would not give you a son.

No, so I could be with you.

Oh, be careful. Careful.

Why?

(Birdsong)

(Hunting horn)

My Lord, it is the Queen. Itis time.

You must come to court. What England's been waiting for!

(Door opens) - Anne!

(Chuckles)

Anne.

Where is he?

Where's my baby son?

My Lord, I have failed you.

I have given you a daughter.

Daughter?

- Daughter. - I have named her Elizabeth.

After your mother.

- Is the child healthy? - Perfectly, sir.

Well...

if we can...have a healthy daughter,

we can have a healthy son.

(Stifles howl)

(Stifled howl)

(Church bells ring)

Pray for our king.

For he has fallen into the hands of the devil.

(Murmurs of assent)

Bewitched by the great whore,

he has rejected his wife, Katherine, a true daughter of Christ.

CROWD: Whore, whore!

Burn in hell!

Henry, King of England, having cast aside Katherine, your queen,

in favour of Anne, your whore, you will be as Ahab.

Your blood will be drunk by dogs.

(Booing and jeering)

WOMAN: Whore!

There is a wave of anger up and down the country.

The people look to you for a sign.

They would rise up in support.

And your nephew, Charles the Emperor,

he would happily lead an invasion against Henry.

This is the moment, Your Majesty.

With your word, the bugle would sound.

You're very kind.

But no, we mustn't.

I'I not give the word.

I've done England enough harm already.

And I do not wish to go to my grave having made it any worse.

(Giggles)

Who's this?

Lady Mary Somerset, I believe.

Yesterday, it was Margaret Shelton.

The day before, her sister, Mary.

When we first met, he couldn't keep his eyes off me.

I would see my husband.

The King has asked not to be disturbed.

(Woman sighs and giggles)

Not even by his wife?

By no-one, Your Majesty.

Tell him I would see him.

Your Majesty, the King cannot be... Wait!

You cannot ignore me like this. I am your wife.

- Anne, I am busy. - The longer we're married,

the less time you spend with me.

You spend every day with different whores.

(Gasps)

Is this a trollop from the provinces?

Damn it, do you know who this is?

Mistress Blake.

On!

Prospective governess to our daughter, Elizabeth.

What?

You're an embarrassment, Madam.

- What is wrong with you? - I am standing up for myself.

The only way to improve your position is to give me a son.

I would give you one, if you spent some time with me.

Don't forget, you need to be involved as well.

Or as head of the Church, do you think you are so close to God,

you can have immaculate conceptions too?

I'll show you.

- Let me move. Let me pleasure you. - Stay still!

You think I like those filthy elaborations you learnt in France?

- Aagh! - They disgust me!

(Grunts)

(Shrieks)

(Sobs)

(Henry pants)

From the King. Good news, I hope.

Yes, he's decided to overnight here on his progress to the West Country next week.

My sons Edward and Thomas will be familiar to you.

- How's my boy? - Excellent, Your Highness.

And our daughter Jane.

She's one of the Queen's ladies.

Is she?

- Easy to overlook, Your Majesty. - No.

After all, there are so many of us.

(Horse neighs)

On!

Does it hurt?

(Horse whinnies)

- Ride to the palace. - My Lord.

Get some help, now!

Lie still, Sire.

(Winces)

Sorry. I hurt you.

No. You do it well.

Very well.

(Laughter)

I am interested, Sir John...

Your daughter's been at court a long time, yet...I've never noticed her there.

- Beauty is not her first virtue, Your Grace. - Nonsense. She radiates beauty.

And she's a wonderful nurse,

but I'm keen fo know if her other virtues exceed her beauty.

Obedience. Humility. Integrity.

Ah, really? Then, everything my wife isn't.

How is the Queen? We hear she's with child.

Indeed, yes.

Let's hope for her sake it's a boy.

The heartbeat is strong but races.

Races? Really? Badly?

Nothing to be too alarmed about.

But you must rest, Your Majesty. For a woman of your age...

the next weeks of the pregnancy are crucial.

All right.

Rest? Try not to worry?

Well, how can I... with a husband that doesn't speak to me

and a court filled with enemies and spies.

Sometimes, I can hear them talking about me as if I'm gone already.

But if you give hima son...

Yes, and what if it isn't a son?

If the bump points, it's a boy.

If it's round, it's a girl.

Does it point, or is it round? I don't know.

I try to compare it to the way it was with Elizabeth, but I can't remember.

I can't remember.

Oh, my beautiful sister.

(Sobs)

Ohh!

Oh! Oooh! Quick!

Somebody, help!

Ohh!

Edward.

The Queen. She's in labour.

But the child wasn't expected until...

BOTH: July.

Oh, My Lord.

I'm so sorry.

Our son... He was born dead.

What?

He came early.

There was nothing I could do.

There's no blame in that.

Dead?

You have killed him.

No!

My Lord...

The people are crying that you are a witch...

- I must ask you to leave her. - a witch in collusion with Protestants...

- Please, My Lord. My Lord. - Witch!

No!

My father bade me do one thing as king.

Just one.

Have a son.

To fulfil his wish, I have been married twice,

accepted excommunication, risked invasion and civil war.

But what do I get?

What do I get?

Stillborn babies, bastards, daughters.

The Queen promised me... She promised me sons.

She has betrayed me. Get rid of her.

- My Lord, but how? - You are a lawyer.

I had a child with her sister.

But she was married. The child could be her husband's.

The affairs in France...

Not conclusively proven and without a bastard child...

Find a way.

Find a way.

Well, there is...

- No, it's nonsense. - What?

Last week, Lady Rochford came to see me,

claiming to have information about the Queen.

She alleged that the Queen had committed. ..indiscretions.

Infidelities.

Who?

She mentioned... Master Smeaton.

Henry Norris.

And...

Lord Rochford.

Her own brother?

George Boleyn, I arrest you in the name of the King.

Let go!

I am guilty of nothing.

I will swear to it.

- Take him. - I will admit nothing.

This is murderous!

- George? - Come.

Arrested?

Cousin, the tide is turning. They mean to try Anne.

As Earl Marshal, I shall have to preside.

As her uncle, it leaves me in a terrible position but I have no choice.

This is no time for sentiment.

- Distance yourself from her. - But she needs me.

Otherwise, I promise you, she will drag us all down with her.

Now, go. Leave her.

Go to the country, stay away from court.

- You have no time to lose. - She's my daughter.

Bid her farewell.

And go.

(Anne sobs)

(Distant howl)

Master Kingston, bring in the prisoner.

It's a sad day when the nobility of a country does not stand for its queen.

Even sadder when that same queen is charged with adultery and incest.

"Is charged" is different from "convicted", Master Cromwell.

Oris it not in this court?

{Murmurs of discomfort)

The charge is that between the 24th and the 27th year

of the reign of our Sovereign Lord Henry, King of England,

his wife the Queen, having been seduced by the devil,

did knowingly commit adultery.

How do you plead?

Not guilty, My Lord.

Further...

as Queen, I challenge the right for this court to try me at all.

On what grounds?

They are not my equals.

I caution Her Majesty against such arrogance,

when we have a mountain of evidence against her.

Correction. A mountain of lies.

I have countless statements from witnesses sworn under oath.

Either these people perjured themselves,

or you obtained your statements with the rack and irons.

Does the Queen presume to call me a liar?

With greater justification than you call me whore.

My Lords, why do we tolerate such disrespect?

I have here 100 pages of confession...

that show the Queen has committed fornication, high treason

and matters of a sexual nature so offensive to God...

Then, can we not read these statements?

And where are these witnesses?

Are they not present, so we can hear them for ourselves?

They're condemned.

We will not insult His Majesty and admit their evidence in court.

Why not?

You insult him far more

with the perversion of justice that is happening here in his name.

I hardly think this queen is qualified to speak of perversion.

(Laughter)

(Knocking)

Silence.

My noble Lords,

if what I fear is true...

..namely that you have condemned me already,

well, then, my testimony is of no value.

But allow me, for the sake of the record and my conscience,

to say this:

The love I have for my brother...

Is the love any sister would have for someone with whom she's grown up,

nursed when sick, played games with as a child.

That is the love I have for him.

As for these other gentlemen,

I have no more been their lover than I would...

lie on my own daughter's life.

I admit that I have not always borne towards the King the humility that is fitting.

I admit that I have been jealous.

And I admit that I have failed to provide him with a son.

But as God is my witness,

I have not betrayed him in any other way.

That is my word.

You must put it to your consciences.

My Lords...

the time has come to cast your votes.

Guilty.

Guilty.

Guilty.

Guilty.

Guilty.

Guilty.

Guilty.

Guilty.

In which case, the burden falls on me to pass sentence.

Anne, Queen of England,

you have been found guilty of treason by this court.

It is therefore my duty to sentence you to be burned or beheaded,

at the King's pleasure.

I told her of your proposal.

- And? - She rejected it.

Insisted again on her innocence.

It would spare her life.

But agreeing to an annulment, she said, would make her daughter a bastard,

something she could never live with.

Is she innocent?

I don't know.

You took her confession, man.

Indeed.

She must want to save her soul, surely?

What did she say?

My Lord, I could never disclose...

I asked you a question.

Let us say, she made no mention...

She did not feel the need to confess.

I can hear a crowd.

- Have they come to see me die? - Yes, ma'am.

- And the King, where is he? - I heard he has gone hunting.

Hunting?

Well, it's a fine day for it.

Cranmer told me they sent to France for a special swordsman.

Apparently, I will feel nothing.

I must not forget to reward him generously.

(Rattling)

(Knocking at door)

It is time.

(Door opens)

May God bless you, my beautiful daughter.

The King will burn in hell for this.

You must speak out against him from the scaffold.

You could turn the crowd.

The King is only doing his duty.

I forgive him.

So must you.

Master Kingston.

Goodbye, Elizabeth.

Mummy.

I want my mummy.

I'll pray for your soul, ma'am.

God bless you, ma'am.

You'll go to heaven, ma'am.

(Crowd roars)

(Jeering)

Whore! Traitor!

MAN: Witch! WOMAN: Whore!

MAN: Burn the witch!

(Crowd falls silent)

Good...Christian people,

I come here to die according to law.

And will speak nothing against it.

I beseech you all to pray for the King...

..our Sovereign Lord.

The best prince on the face of the earth.

Thus...I take my leave of the world.

I beg you all to pray for me.

Ayez de la pitié pour moi, Votre Majeste.

- Soyez rassuré. Je pardonne. - Merci.

On!

Forgive me, Mary,

if I was ever angry with you or spoke with a sharp tongue.

(Sobs)

Jesu, receive my soul, O, Lord.

Oh, Lord, have mercy on my soul.

God help me.