All language subtitles for The.Bloody.Judge.1970.720p.Bluray.x264-GUACAMOLE-English

1685.

Storm clouds
gather over Europe.

In England, the good
King Charles is dead,

and his brother, James II,
sits on a very shaky throne.

The country is torn asunder
by dissenting factions.

One, loyal to the last
of the Stuart Kings.

The other, faithful to Prince
William of Orange across the channel.

While the Duke of Monmouth
plans to raise an army,

invade England, and usurp
the throne from King James,

The Lord High Chief
Justice Jeffries

dispenses his peculiarly
inflexible form of justice

to vast numbers of suspects,
both real and imaginary.

This is a time of plot
and counterplot,

a time of witchcraft,

when the shadow of the
executioner blots out

the innocent and guilty alike.

We shall destroy the Bloody Judge, my dear,
and then we shall, all of us, rejoice.

Alicia...

- Alicia, my darling!
- Oh, Capple, I'm deliriously happy.

- Let's go somewhere and be alone.
- How can I refuse a request like that

from such a pretty lady?

Oh, yes, darling.

Quickly, men,
we've got to find Capple!

Capple, I arrest you
in the name of King James.

Damn King James!

No!

Capple!

No!

That should tame your spirit,
you evil wench.

In the presence of
the Lord Chief Justice Lord Jeffries,

in the city of London,
court of Earl Bailey,

this court is now in session.
God save the King.

Let the business
of the court commence.

Quiet!

Quiet, bitches!

Shut up!
I said quiet!

Ketch is coming.

Look at that walk he has.

- Now, here's a pretty wench.
- Aye, and you'll hang that pretty head, yet.

What's she at Newgate for?
Cutting a purse?

Or cutting a caper in me Lord's bed
and being caught for it?

- A witch!
- She's not a witch.

- Sorceress.
- Black magic.

May it please Your Lordship,
on indictment from the assize at Exeter

before the King's bench,
Alicia Gray,

spinster, of the parish of Rainsford,
in the county of Wessex.

The charge, witchcraft.

Silence.

Silence!

Proceed, Sergeant Allan.

If Your Lordship pleases, the Crown
will show that this female, Alicia Gray,

did, in fact, indulge in practices
alien to our faith

and in contempt of the existing
laws of our kingdom.

We shall also prove that she did,
on the first day of May

frequent a place where
pagan rites were carried out.

That she was caught in flagrante
with one certain Capple,

a long-suspected practitioner
of the black arts.

The Crown has more than sufficient proof
of witchcraft against this Capple,

to have him hung,
drawn and quartered

as prescribed by law.
But unfortunately...

Unfortunately what,
Mr. Prosecutor?

The villain evaded capture, my Lord.
He died.

If Capple is dead,
what is his relevance to this case?

The accused female is guilty
by association, my Lord.

You have witnesses to prove
that association?

Oh, yes, my Lord,
they were lovers.

Has the accused
been examined thoroughly

by physicians and
members of the clergy?

- She has been examined.
- Thoroughly?

Well, has she?

As thoroughly as
we are allowed, my Lord,

under the law.

Under the law?

We are under the law here,
Sergeant Allan.

Of course, I need not
remind you of that fact.

The accused, Alicia Gray

will be examined thoroughly

for abnormality of mind and body.

A report to be made
to this court.

Executioner…

Silence.

Take her.

Alicia!

Go on...

Tighten it!

That's enough.

Rest while you can, my dear,
we have other delights in store for you.

"W" for "witch".

Can you spell?

You can cast spells...

but that's different.

Witches don't like iron.

Cold iron...

…or hot.

Witches hate it.

A witch can make
a dead man bleed.

Now, here's a dead man.

Now then...

Can you make him bleed?

Look, he bleeds.

But that's my blood!
You took it from me!

I say he bleeds!

Cheats!
Liars!

We mustn't keep Judge Jeffries waiting,
must we, my dear?

You observed the witch, Palafox?

They're getting quite rare these days.
Is she guilty, me Lord?

You shock me, Palafox,
the girl has not been tried yet.

Her father was a traitor.

He was one of the minor villains
in the Rye House conspiracy.

He plotted against the King's life,
and was duly hanged for it.

I had the pleasure
of sentencing him.

And now his daughter
comes up for judgement, ‘ey, sir?

His daughter, yes.

She was found while you
were away in Winchester.

Interesting, don't you think?

- I must see him!
- You can't go in there!

I must, I tell you!
It's a matter of life or death!

- I must see him! I must!
- How dare you disturb the judge?

- Take her away!
- Oh, I beg of you, please! Let me see him!

- Out!
- No! No!

One moment.

What is your name?

Mary Gray, my Lord.

Gray?

I see.

You may leave us.

All right, all right.

Well, Mistress Gray,
you realize this is most improper.

Yes, my Lord, but

I came to ask you
for the life of my sister.

I know she's not a witch.
She's innocent.

That is for the court to decide.

If your sister
is not a witch...

she is then, perhaps...
a Whig.

A member of the party
against the King.

No, my Lord, my sister and I
are not interested in politics.

Our father died of them.

Ah, you have wit
as well as beauty.

And what would you give
for the life of your sister, Mistress Gray?

Anything.

Anything?

After having been duly examined
for the crime of sorcery,

Mistress Alicia Gray, in the presence
of Lord Chief Justice Lord Jeffries,

here in the Earl Baily,
city of London,

will be judged by
a duly appointed jury

who have indicated that their
study of the evidence in this case

has been completed.

Gentlemen of the jury…

- Are you of one mind?
- We are, me Lord.

And how do you find?

Guilty, me Lord.

Alicia Gray,

the bill against you
has been proven.

Now let the court hear this.

Let the whole country hear this,

and hear it well!

The laws of this land
will be upheld!

Alicia Gray,

I find you guilty

as charged.

You will be taken to a place of execution
and you will be burned.

May the Lord
have mercy on your soul.

Rise for the Chief Justice!

May the Lord forgive us
and protect us,

and exorcise the Devil
from this poor child.

God... oh, God.

Oh, God.

Alicia!

- Oh, Alicia!
- God...

Speed her death, I beg you!

Speed her death!

Please!

Please do something!

Oh, no!

Mary?

Is that you?

I've been waiting for you.

Alicia is dead.

I know.

Come closer.

Tears...

Too many tears.

My eyes don't cry anymore.

Tell me what's gonna
happen to me.

- Don't ask.
- I've got to know.

Please?

I see more pain
than you can bear.

I see death,

destruction,

murder,

cruelty,

and madness.

But in the end,
when all the madness is over,

I see for you peace,
happiness,

love.

Mary?

Mary?

Mary...

God help her.

Stamped out.

Stamped out like rats
in a granary.

Else we shall never cleanse
England of this pestilence.

This is no time for the faint hearted,
my good Lord Wessex.

Oh, I agree, I agree,
my good Jeffries.

But you'll find no taint
of treachery in my county.

No?

Less than a month ago
I burned a witch.

She was from your county.
She was from your village.

Indeed, my Lord,
she was one of your tenants.

Uh, claret, my Lord?

A true Englishman's wine.

By that witch, I presume
you mean Alicia Gray.

She was a stranger here.

Besides, she was not a plotter
against our good Lord the King,

God bless him.
She was just a witch.

Under the evil spell
of the Devil.

A witch, she was
rightly put to death.

Well, rightly, of course, my Lord,
since it was you who sentenced her.

But, of course,
she leaves no taint of treachery

on this fair county of ours.

Your health, Jeffries.

She was tainted with
the treachery of her father,

for which he was
also put to death.

My Lord, do you believe that
the West of England is entirely loyal

to our sovereign Lord,
King James?

Why, loyal to a man,
and to his brother before him.

Why, as loyal as I am,

and, of course,
there's no question of my loyalty.

In troubled times,
we must all search our consciences.

Who questions my loyalty
is answerable to my sword.

Indeed.

Oh, not you, of course,
my good Lord Jeffries,

but some of those knaves in Whitehall,
plotters and time-savers.

We do out humble best
at Whitehall.

God save us, my Lord,
from your worst.

Wessex, have you ever heard
of a young man by the name of Barnaby?

Barnaby?

No, the name's
not known to me.

It seems he was at Oxford
with your son.

With Harry?
He may have been...

Since my Lady wife died,
I see little of my son and his friends.

- You may be right, of course.
- I am right, Wessex.

Barnaby knew your son.
He may still know him.

But why are you interested
in this young man?

Because it appears he may be in league
with the Monmouth plotters in Holland.

My good Lord Jeffries!

Your spies must've been busy lately.
Plotters at court, plotters abroad,

who want to see the King's
bastard nephew on the throne?

- Like Barnaby.
- More wine, my Lord?

- Wessex!
- Yes, my Lord?

Speak with your son!

- Question him with subtlety.
- About what, my Lord?

About Barnaby
and his associates.

Show zeal in this pursuit, Wessex!

Or this fine estate of yours
will know more suffering

than ever it knew
under Cromwell!

My Lord, forgive the intrusion, sir,
but I had to be the first to inform you.

- Not now. Not now.
- But it's your son, my Lord.

He's taken up with a wench.

Sister to that witch
who burned last month.

Your pardon, my Lord, I thought...
I thought you were alone.

‘Tis unpardonable!
Get out!

Wait!

Wait.

Who is this lumpkin?

It's Satchel, my Lord,
my bailiff.

A worthy man,
but sometimes a little too zealous.

Zeal is a good quality, my Lord,
do not apologize for it.

Ah, Satchel...

Well, Satchel,
you know who I am?

I believe you are
the chief of all judges, my Lord.

Chief of all judges.
How quaint.

But not altogether inaccurate,
is it Wessex?

Now, Satchel, tell me true.

The Earl's son is under a spell, perhaps,
and wenches with a she-devil?

I know not if young Mary
is a witch, sir.

My son, my Lord, is young,
wayward, hot-blooded...

Ah, hot blood.

How eager are the young
to spill it, are they not?

Mary, you say?

I will sup tonight at
The Bell in Torminster.

Have the wench
brought to me there.

Yes, me Lord.

As for you, my Lord Wessex,

I leave you
to instruct your son

as to the folly of yet another
unwise association.

Do I make my meaning clear?

As always, my Lord.

Quite clear.

Oh, Harry, I must go.

Oh, let Mistress Gurney wait.

But I shall see you
later tonight.

And then tomorrow night,
we'll leave Rainsford forever.

Oh, is it true, Harry?
Are you really going to take me with you?

All is arranged.
We go, by night into Devon,

married by a good old friend
who's waiting there patiently

and after that,
the world is ours.

I must hurry.

England may be
too small for us.

The hands of men like Jeffries
are too heavy.

Where can we go?
Ireland? France?

Further.
A new world.

This evening,
I'm meeting secretly an old friend.

He's a good friend.

He knows ways
in and out of this country.

He's a good friend.
Barnaby.

Oh, Barnaby.

- Good to see you again, old friend.
- Good to see you.

Well, Harry, you're late!

But then, you always were.

I'll be early for my wedding,
I swear.

Barnaby, let me tell you
about this girl.

No time for wenches and weddings, friend,
the Duke has moved at last.

Monmouth?

Then what's the latest?

Well, Barnaby?

I crossed from the low country
two nights ago,

with letters from Monmouth
to friends in the West Country.

The Duke will land
at Lyme Regis with an army.

When?

Well, come on,
you can trust me.

Monmouth lands tonight.

Harry!

Harry!

Where have you been?

I've been seeing a friend.

The wench?

Is that what kept you
from your supper?

- No, the friend was a man.
- A man?

Now, you tell me how you came to know
about "the wench", as you call her.

- It's common talk.
- That's a lie.

You call your own father a liar,
you young coxcomb?

Hm, you're right.

Now, listen to me, Harry.

- Jeffries has been here.
- Hm, Jeffries.

Hinting at treason
and disloyalty.

Asking questions
about our friends.

Smelling out witches.

Aye, and finding one
right under my very nose.

Your wench.
What have you got to say to that?

So, you've turned
witch hunter now, father?

Jeffries' influence?

Or is it just a change
from plotting against the Crown?

That's not true
and you know it.

- But is your own record clean?
- Never mind that.

I love "the wench", as you call her.
God knows she's suffered enough.

Now, look, Harry...

You have to understand,

Jeffries has ordered that
you may not see this wench again.

- And if you defy him…
- I defy a hundred Jeffries!

- To the Devil with that monster.
- Harry, be careful.

- Goodbye, father.
- Harry...

Harry, listen to me!

I'm leaving, father.
Tonight, instead of tomorrow night.

- And I'm taking Mary with me.
- She's gone.

Gone?

Satchel took her to Jeffries.

- Where? Where?
- There's no need...

Even though you're my father,
as God as my witness,

- I'll kill you if you don't tell me!
- There's no need for violence.

The Bell at Torminster.

Harry...

Be careful!

Me Lord?

Come!

- Has the girl arrived yet?
- No, my Lord.

I thought I heard horses.

You're perfectly right.
You did, my Lord.

- What is that?
- A messenger just brought it, sir.

The Duke of Monmouth
has landed en force.

We shall return to London tonight,
have the coach ready in ten minutes.

And the girl?

Leave word with the innkeeper.
Satchel will hold her safe.

Bring Lord Jeffries' coach
around immediately.

Prepare it for leaving at once.

Master Satchel, they told me
you wanted me to go somewhere.

- Aye, you're to come with me.
- Where to, sir?

- Would you question the Earl's orders?
- No, of course not, sir, but...

Come!
You ride with me.

Will we be going far?

You see, I was supposed
to wait for Lord Sefton...

Silence, lass.
Where do you think I'm taking you?

Your young man is the one
who sent me to get you.

- Come on.
- Oh, I see.

Innkeeper!

Innkeeper!

That's right.

Thank you.

His Lordship was called away
to London.

He left certain
instructions about you.

Are you listening, wench?

Listening, but not caring.

Don't play hoity-toity with me, draggle tail,
or I'll knock the spit out of you!

- Have some liquor.
- No, thank you.

Ah, it was a rough ride, lass,
but now we're both out of it, ain't we?

All cozy and warm.

Let's you and me both enjoy
a little bit of comfort now, ‘ey?

I only obey orders, you know.

I'm not such a bad fellow
when you get to know me better.

You're lucky, you know,
to have escaped Jeffries.

- I'll look after you now. Don't worry.
- Good, then let me go home.

Can I?

This time of night?

The roads are swarmin’ with thieves,
and highwaymen,

and curt-throats,
and such like.

Oh, no, my dear.
We bed here tonight.

Well, can I go to my room?

Fight away, me beauty,

we have the whole night
before us.

No!

No!

No!

No!

Mary, come away
from there, quickly!

- Harry!
- Come, we must go at once!

- Me Lord.
- Is there news, Palafox?

- The city buzzes with rumors.
- Whitehall?

Much as expected, sir.
Those nearest the King are in panic.

Poltroons!
They are frightened of phantoms.

Those phantoms have already won
several skirmishes, me Lord.

Brushes with militia,
no more.

They say he marches
with an army 10,000 strong.

Monmouth's cause
is already lost, Palafox.

Even now, the King's armies are
marching night and day to cut him off.

At this precise moment,
His Majesty's ship, Tangiers,

is within striking distance
of Bridgewater in the west.

Colonel Kirk, and those
white-coated troopers of his...

his lambs, he calls them,
will show the rebels no quarter.

Colonel Kirk has the royal artillery.
The rebels have naught but their muskets.

The lambs will become lions,

and blast those foolish
rebels to perdition.

His Grace, the Duke of Monmouth
will lead the first charge!

His Grace, the Duke of Monmouth
will lead the first charge!

Ready!
Fire!

Fire!

Fire!

Fire!

Fire!

Fire!

Charge!

Ready!
Fire!

More of Kirk's dragoons.

There are too many for us.

I'll get the horses.

Don't worry, old friend.

I must find a physician for you.

Harry!

- Oh, Harry.
- Barnaby's badly wounded.

We must get horses.

He could never make it
to Bridgewater on foot.

- Can I leave him in your care?
- Of course.

I'll make for my father's stables.
Rainsford isn't far across country.

- Do be careful, Harry.
- Yeah.

I feel as if...

as if...

I feel as if... dying.

It's dark now.

Try and rest now, Barnaby.
Harry will bring help.

Who's there?

Oh, Satchel, you've come back.

Me Lord.

Good God,
what have they done to you?

The wench will pay
dearly for this.

The witch?

- Mary Gray?
- Your son's mistress.

Satchel,
why have you come back?

- I bring you a warning.
- You dare to warn me?

Your son is an outlaw.

He's a fugitive from
Monmouth's rebel army.

Like the others,
he's on the run from Sedgemoor.

Thank you, Satchel,

for coming back to tell me.

I do you no favors,
my good Lord.

There's a price
for the warning I bring you.

Price?

- What do you mean, you dog?
- No, not your dog. No longer!

You've become a Jeffries man.

- My price is 100 crowns.
- What for?

Pay the price, and the information
will never reach Jeffries or his spies.

100 crowns, you said?

Aye.

Pay up!

I shall take your best saddle horse,
and be on my way.

A small price to pay,
my good Lord,

for a son's life.

Thank you for your help, Sally,
one day I'll repay you.

- Who was that?
- A friend. No one you would know.

- What friend?
- A boy from the village.

You're lying, you little slut!

You're lying, Sally.
You're lying to your master.

You're not my master.
Not anymore!

Come back here, slut!
Now you listen.

Tell me who rode out,
or by God, I'll snap your throat.

No!

Who was it?
Tell me!

No!

Tell me quickly!
Who was it?

Tell me!

Young Lord Harry.

Harry...
Harry Sefton?

Sally!

You were a good girl to tell me.

Mary, now...

Is she with him?

Where he goes,
she can't be far away.

She'll make a good recruit
for my army.

For being such a good girl, Sally,
I'm recruiting you, too.

Come on! Get up!
Slut!

Oh, God.
When will it ever end?

Mary...

Palafox!
Palafox!

Coming, my Lord.

Me Lord?

How many rebels are there
in Taunton Prison?

At the last count, me Lord,
500 persons held in Taunton Castle.

Then we shall need 500 ropes,
shall we not?

If Your Lordship
finds them guilty.

The instant they took up arms against
the King, they condemned themselves.

Quite so, my Lord.

A swift and speedy end to traitors.
That's the best way.

Justice is a terrible thing, Palafox.
But justice must be done!

Where is Ketch?

I believe he is at the prison
waiting for Satchel

to bring the women rebels,
my Lord.

Stop!

Hey, Mother Rosa!

Mother Rosa!

Is that you, Satchel?

It is I, old witch!

Be careful.
You're going to your own destruction.

Eh, one day I'll cut off
your tongue!

You cutting my tongue...

I'm cutting yours.

You need have no fear,
old witch.

How did you know
where to find me?

Well, I remember this cave from...
from my boyhood.

Don't you remember me?

Oh, Master Harry!

You've got a beard.

My God, you've got a beard.

What do you want?

We hunt a villain
who has stolen away our women

- for the great trial at Taunton.
- Women?

They passed this way
two hours ago.

On foot, and suffering cruelly.
Among them was the one you love.

There was one guard at the head
and one at the rear.

Then there's four against two.

- We'll have Satchel for supper.
- Beware the devil in red robes

and the man whose face has been
marked by the Prince of Darkness.

Thank you, dear lady.

Bring them here inside.

Get over there!

Stand upright!

Will, news at last.

Satchel took the road to Taunton
not so long ago.

The road over Blackrock Moor.

Every man jack of you is wanted
by Judge Jeffries and the hangman.

- It's not too late to back out now.
- My wife's up there on Blackrock.

That swine, Satchel, took her

and left the two children
in an empty house.

- Count on me.
- And me. That monster's got my Sal.

Come on, then.
There's work to do.

Don't worry.

What's going to happen to us?

I don't know.

There ain't no use crying.
It's not going to help.

Mary!

Sometimes I ask myself
whether the right to life or death

was ever given to mere men,

or if God Almighty did not, himself,
deliver unto me the responsibilities

for that which we are doing.

Yet, when I am confronted again
with the unholiness,

the rebellion, the crimes,
and the sacrilege…

I am reassured
that we were not unjust

in dealing the most atrocious
punishment to these criminals.

- My Lord.
- You dare disturb me?

It was a surprise attack.
The women escaped!

- Send for the captain of the guard.
- He's waiting, my Lord.

You will take a strong force of men
and you will recapture the rebels

who escaped on the moor today.
See to it.

Satchel believes that Harry Sefton
was at the head of the band, sir.

Henry...

Sefton...

Lord...

Rainsford.

I declare him...

outlaw.

His lands...

forfeit...

to…

the Crown.

His person...

at the mercy...

of the King.

Who is it?

Where did the women go?

Tell me, woman!

I will spare the life
of Harry Sefton.

Harry's been captured?

Of course.

He hangs before tonight,
unless you tell me.

Tell me, woman!

They went...

They went...

across the moor.

Truro... Truro came
and brought me some food.

Barris!

Barris.

- That's where they went. Barris.
- Barris, eh?

Harry's safe.

He's safe now.

No, you have not saved him, because…

- he hasn't been caught yet.
- Liar!

Liar!

If you kill him,

you'll burn for this.
You'll burn.

You'll burn.
You'll burn.

You'll burn.
You'll burn. You...

You'll burn.

You'll burn.

You'll burn.

You'll burn.
You'll burn!

Rosa?

Rosa!

What's the matter?

- Mary...
- Yes…

- Harry's been killed.
- No, Mother Rosa, he's here.

- Where?
- Right here.

Where?
Give me his hand.

Harry...
I feel danger. Go away.

- We've come for your blessing.
- You have my blessing.

Go.
Go, you're in danger.

- Go, quickly, go.
- Oh, Harry...

Go away.
Go.

Take him alive.
Judge Jeffries’ orders.

In name of His Gracious Majesty,
King James II,

let the assize be open.

The prisoners will stand.

The accused, Jonathan Dicken.

The charge, high treason.

You, Dicken,

I sentence you to be hanged
by the neck until you are dead.

John!

After, of course, the formalities
of drawing and quartering.

The accused, Sally Downs.

- Spare her, my Lord! Spare her!
- Silence, you dog!

Against you, Sally Downs,

stands the following accusation:

You are accused of assisting the escape
of the notorious witch Mary Gray.

No, my Lord, that's not true.

Be silent now.

You will be examined for sorcery
in the castle dungeons.

After which, you will
rejoin your lover. In Hell.

The accused,
Lord Henry Sefton.

Not he!

His case will be tried later.

For such a nobly born rogue
as you, Sefton,

we must take special measures.

The accused, Steven Truro.

What name?

T... Truro.

I have a title, rogue!
Use it or I'll have your tongue by the roots!

I said Truro,

me Lord.

Well, Truro, the bill
against you is clear enough.

How do you plead?

Not guilty, m... my Lord.

You have wasted enough
of the court's time, Truro.

I sentence you to death.

You will be hanged together
with all these rebel dogs.

James Quigly, me Lord.
Charge, treason.

Condemned.

Ian Oxley, me Lord.
The charge, treason.

Condemned.

Patricia Leader, me Lord.
The charge, sorcery.

Condemned.

Roger Cartwright, me Lord.
The charge, conspiracy.

Condemned.

Edward Mac, me Lord.
The charge, conspiracy.

Condemned!

Thomas Howarth, me Lord.
The charge, treason.

Condemned!

You are all condemned,
for crimes against King and Kingdom…

to hang.
To dangle until you are but dead.

To be then cut down,
still alive,

to have your entrails drawn out
and thrust into your own mouths.

To be further hanged,

then quartered like
the carcasses of beef you are.

You number 500,

but even if you were 5,000,

the execution of this sentence
would be just before God Almighty.

And may He have mercy
upon your souls.

Get busy, turnkey.

We have much work to do.

Whether witch or wench,

they must be taught obedience
to the laws of God and country.

Admit your witchcraft,
and you shall only burn.

Otherwise I shall have
the pleasure of my skills.

A slow, painful,
never-ending death.

I'm not a witch.
I'm not a witch!

Now, will you not
change your mind

and admit that you
dabble in sorcery

and mix with sorcerers?

I'm not a witch.

You're a traitor,
like all your friends.

You don't know
who are my friends.

There is certain information...

Believe me...

Release her.

Me Lord?

The Earl of Wessex, sir.

- Well, my Lord Wessex?
- My Lord.

I've come, Sir,
for the person of my son.

Palafox, take note of this.

I do believe my Lord Wessex
is attempting to suborn justice.

- If my son is your prisoner...
- The King's, Wessex.

The King's.

Then in the name of the King,
I ask you to pardon him.

It is the King's pleasure.

Do you not understand?

So the King has pardoned him?

But this is a plea
for clemency.

It is a very different matter, my Lord Wessex,
as you very well know.

Your son has not been pardoned
by the King, nor by anyone else.

His fate is still in my hands.

If you ignore the King's pleasure,
if you hang him...

Whether I hang him, draw him,
quarter him, behead him,

transport him,
or pardon him,

is entirely a matter
for my court.

I bid you good day, my Lord.

My Lord,
would that, but once...

you had seen one of your own
sentences carried out.

Unfortunate, me Lord.

I shall do my best
to contain my disappointment.

Wessex still has power at court,

though our spies
distrust his loyalty.

The Earl of Wessex's
time will come.

I pity it, though, sir,

to let young Sefton
slip right through our hands.

Did I say he had?

- Fetch me the girl.
- Mary?

Hey, you!

So how do you enjoy
your treatment, girl?

Do you have any
complaints or grievances?

I was ordered to fetch Mary Gray.
Is that her?

Yes. Her sister
was burned for sorcery.

That's why she's here.

So you too are one of them,
a daughter of the Devil.

Now your time has come,
the time of your judgement!

It's your turn!

She shivers.

Look how she trembles.
No, your period of grace has not expired yet.

The Chief Justice merely uttered
the wish to see you.

Who knows,

maybe you're lucky.

Walk.

There.

Look at her.

You may go in.

Yes...

Off with it!

Undress her.

Get in the tub.

That's quite enough.

Here.

And make sure that His Lordship
is satisfied with you.

Here you go.

- Get me out of here! I'm not guilty!
- Stop screaming, wench! Quiet!

You sent for me, my Lord?

I did.

You had a great love
for your sister, did you not?

Yes, my Lord.

And His Lordship of Rainsford.

You had a great love for him,
too, so it seems.

I do, my Lord.

Such devotion…

deserves a worthy reward.

A life, perhaps?

I could bestow such a gift.

And you...

I desire you.

You excite me.

You're driving me insane.

Now you will be mine.

Mine alone.

My Lord,

tell me again that you're
going to spare Harry's life.

His life?

Doubtless, he will make
a new life for himself.

In the plantations.

Plantation?

Exile?

Without a doubt.

And now, in God's name,
get you gone.

Devil!

Palafox!
Palafox!

Take this bitch away!

See that she goes
to London in chains.

- Truro?
- Yeah?

I just spoke to Sally.

- Pass the word down the line.
- Right.

Harry.

Tomorrow, the executions begin.

- Are you certain?
- Aye.

I got it from one of the guards.
Brings our gruel.

He's a Devon man, too,
poor soul.

The soldiers are mostly gone.

Together with the women.
Left for the plantations.

So, Mary and my wife, as well.

We shall have to act speedily,
if at all.

Rather death by the sword
than slow torture.

Pass the word.

Well, me beauties?

Are you enjoying yourselves?

You've not much longer
on this earth.

You talk mighty proud,
good Satchel.

- What a proud valet you are.
- You impudent dog!

Free everybody.

Let's give the dirty dog
what he deserves.

The court is now in session.

Satchel,

as justice of this court,
I ask you your plea.

Guilty or not guilty?

- Guilty!
- Let the prisoner speak for himself!

Well, sir?

What are you?

- Spare me please! Spare me!
- Quiet, dog!

What say the jury?

- Is he guilty of all crimes?
- Guilty!

I sentence you
to be hanged by the neck,

- until you are dead.
- No!

No, not hanging.
That's too good for him!

Truro, we have a lot to do.

Harry.
Thank God you're safe.

Now William of Orange has landed,
you are free.

But aren't you
a King James man?

In perilous times,
deceit becomes a necessity.

But the other prisoners
on the way to London?

Oh, every man with a horse
to his name is with us.

The prisoners travel slowly
with King James’ guns.

They won't get far.

Lord Chancellor of England...

- I have the great seal, at last.
- Me Lord!

What use is the great seal to you now?
The King is gone!

- You lie, Palafox. You lie.
- When have I ever lied to you, my Lord?

Tell me truly, Palafox…

- What is the news from Whitehall?
- The King has fled the country.

His last message was that
you should join him, me Lord, in France.

- I stay here.
- Me Lord, don't you understand?

Prince William of Orange
has landed to claim the throne.

I am the Lord Chancellor.

Whoever reigns...
I stay.

What now?

The city beggars...

Stuart or Orange man,
it's all the same to them,

so long as they have
their bellies full.

Me Lord...

I have a warrant
for your arrest.

And this time,
it is the King's pleasure.

As well as mine.

Traitor.

No, my Lord...

’tis you who have
betrayed England.

Bring him to the tower.

All right!
Come on!

Surely a man loyal to God,
King and country,

such as I have always been

cannot be condemned as cruel and unjust
for pursuing his duties vigorously,

even when it weighed heavily
on his conscience.

Perhaps in the wake
of today's hysteria,

history will judge me fairly.

Jeffries?

Jeffries?

You...

were…

right...

Wessex, I...

I never knew...