Original subtitles

They have summoned the God.

God, please help us.

God helps those who help themselves, Lattice.

The tide is rising. We must play it for time.

Light the candles.

You're too gaudy.

Time to live this night. I must not outshine her.

Too red.

A gift from the Queen herself.

What better choice? That one.

Lettuce.

Remember, child.

Curve your temper.

No matter what she says, how much she tries to goad you,

Stay close, Captain.

The signal.

Rosary. The Rosary.

Is this how you enter a prince's chamber?

You forget yourselves, gentlemen.

The queen will not receive you. Their orders stand.

You are to be confined in the tower pending investigation until the charge

is against you.

Fetch her things.

I am with her day and night.

She never met this man, Wyatt.

If there was a conspiracy, she'd do no part in it. Then she has nothing to

fear, madam.

Quickly, we must catch the tide.

I will write to her, plead my case. You would do well not to defy her, my lady.

And you, sir, would do well to remember I, too, am a king's daughter.

Your Majesty, my dear Sister Mary, I humbly beseech you to remember your last

promise to me, that I will not be condemned without proof.

Now, on your command, I am to be taken to the tower.

A place surely more fit for a traitor than a loyal sister.

I beg you, let me come to you so that you may hear my testimony.

For I swear before God, I never practiced, counseled, nor consented in

any conspiracy against you. Enough!

She has made fools of you.

This is just more of her tricks.

She thinks if she buys time, she can soften my resolve.

Now the tide is lost.

My lord.

There is another tide at dawn, your majesty. Transport her in daylight, so

her followers may abduct her, mount another rebellion in her name.

Must I think of everything?

These lines signify what, my lord?

I believe she was afraid an incriminating postscript might be added.

Don't hide it, must be.

My lord Gardiner.

It is my wish that you take charge of her interrogation in the tower.

Do not fail me again.

Will God punish me as I am now punishing her?

He knows you do it in his service, Your Grace.

As he knows all things.

It is not just for your own protection, but that of your husband's.

Only by proving her guilt in this Protestant plot can justice be

dispensed, and with it the threat she poses to you both.

Your father found the strength to deal with her whore of a mother.

Now you must do the same to deal with her bastard child.

And if her guilt cannot be proved?

To break her silence, you must first break her spirit.

study at an upturned

Sir John Bridges.

He will be your custodian here, my lady.

Shall we?

I pray you all.

I pray you bear witness that I come here as no traitor, but as a true and loyal

subject of the Queen, and shall be until my death.

A fine pair of lungs on him.

You're Mr. Wyatt.

You're a castle in Donington.

In January, you proposed a visit there, did you not?

Donington?

Which county is that?

Berkshire.

I have so many properties.

Thomas Wyatt wrote to you at that time, did he not?

stating his opposition to the Queen's marriage and his intention to overthrow

her government, to put you on the throne in her place.

Did he not name Dunnington Castle as a base for his rebellion?

That you meet him there with your supporters.

Had I received any such communication, I would have alerted my sister and the

Privy Council.

He enlisted the help of France.

assembled four contingents in as many counties, numbering over 2,000 men to

march on London.

Only fool would undertake such a mission without first gaining your consent.

Since I'm not personally acquainted with Mr. White, I have no insight into how

his mind works, foolish or otherwise.

Poison was the chosen method.

Disposing of the queen.

A letter to White from the French ambassador.

Death is the only solution to end her disastrous union with King Philip and

save England from Spanish rule.

Do you deny you share such a sentiment?

Like most women, I have no head for politics, sir.

Every Protestant in the land condemned the match.

Why should you be the exception?

Wyatt's confession will put an end to her dissembling.

We're looking at days, if not hours.

Go no further than your commission here, Sir John.

In the future, we may have to account for our dealings with her.

Your mother is a subject she does not care to speak of.

Much less think of.

One of the Queen's ladies sent to serve you. Or spy on me.

No.

Why it's Lettuce Cat?

We are in God's hands now.

I never wrote him a letter on that matter or any other.

How do you explain your reply?

I will do as I see cause.

You are condoning their conspiracy.

Admit it.

Biding your time waiting to see if their insurgence was successful.

Since I received no letter on the subject, it follows I did not reply to

him. No, you are too artful to reply in writing.

I could neither condone nor condemn a conspiracy of which I was ignorant, sir.

Though it seems I am to be condemned for the ambition of others, or their

malevolency.

If she will not admit to her treason, why it must be made to do it? He denies

her collusion. He denies ever communicating with her. Not the rack nor

the bribe of a reprieve can move him otherwise.

The Privy Council will never consent to her trial, Your Grace.

Not without his testimony, or...

Her own confession.

To do so, we risk the mob taking to the streets on her behalf.

No man will meet his maker with a lie on his lips, Your Majesty.

If the rack cannot persuade Wyatt, let the prospect of eternal damnation do it

for you.

Prepare his execution warrant.

Now. Today.

Fresh air is most restorative.

To see the sky again.

That man, who is he?

Robert Dudley, my lady.

Robert is here?

It's a year past.

On what charge?

Freezing.

As were his father and his brother before the scaffold took them.

His time is overdue, I fear.

Is she acquainted with him?

They were companions as children.

Close companions.

Lady Elizabeth, for conspiring in the matter for which I am charged. Free him!

Free him!

They think that death will wrench that life from me. Long live the Lady

Elizabeth! But it is not so, nor ever was.

She had no knowledge of my intentions, nor consented to them by word or by

deed.

As God is my witness, with my dying breath,

I swear that this is true Then

she

must be dealt with by other means

For the Lady Elizabeth.

Not too late, sir.

She's no longer with us.

You have the king to thank for bringing you here.

It was he who intervened with the queen on your behalf.

It seems I am in your debt, your highness.

Alas, despite my endeavors, I cannot guarantee your safety.

She persists in her conviction.

You are a threat to her. Her mind is quite set upon you.

It seems the love you inspire in the people inspires only envy

in others.

Their affection is about the memory of my father, Your Majesty. Nothing more.

I would speak with my sister alone if it pleases you, husband.

I know your majesty is ill-disposed towards me.

But I beg you, tell me what it is I have done to offend you, so that I may...

Your pleas are as insincere as they are tiresome, sister.

And it is God you offend with your charade of purity.

I was not raised in the Catholic doctrine as you.

But I'm trying to learn its ways with your help, with your good guidance.

Do you think I don't know hypocrisy when I see it?

But you can fool me as you do others.

Not enough that my mother was left to die alone in exile while yours stole her

place in our father's favor.

That I was forced to wait upon her as a mere servant. Must I now endure the

deceit of her daughter too?

It is I who now bestow the favors.

And where I see fit, the punishment.

A punishment must fit the crime.

I have committed none.

If you claim otherwise, then in justice you must prove it.

That is still the law of the land, is it not?

I had hoped my marriage would bring me comfort.

Companionship.

to you it has imprisoned me we cannot walk outside the palace walls without

fear for our lives my husband must sleep alone for his protection while i i

must sleep with this beside me it's

in your mind is it not seize your chance

That ambition exists only in your mind, sister, not mine.

Must there always be this enmity between us?

Surely it is not beyond us to put the past to rest, to reconcile.

The council is preparing an act of parliament to return the country to the

church in Rome.

In time, the Protestant heresy of our father will be...

A ghost in the people's memory.

Until then, your confinement will continue.

Somewhere less public than the Tower.

Out of their sight.

And out of mine.

Where did you take her? Is it in the tower again?

I MISS JAPANESE!

Forgive me, Sir William, the Queen is scrupulous in matters of security.

Accounts for the Lady Lisbeth's attention relating to her Hatfield

property.

The expenditure for your grooms, milady, it seems excessive.

Can you account for it?

The only pretext I could find for coming without arousing suspicion.

It began over a year ago.

She reinstated the burning of the Heritage Act.

Nearly 300 Protestants burned at the stake in as many days.

The council is divided.

The economy is decimated because of this wretched war in France.

The people are near to insurgence.

Every time your name is shouted in the street, her malice towards you becomes

more fixed.

Even now, she's devising new ways of disposing of you.

Your marriage to Don Carlos of Spain is her latest notion.

Don. Carlos is 10 years old.

If he receives her in, you're exiled from the country.

And if I refuse her?

A mother will go to any lengths to protect her child, the more so if it is

heir to the throne.

She is with child?

A queen, a mother, and a wife, her own holy trinity.

The day her child draws its first breath could prove to be your last.

You are a symbol to the people of hope.

A future without fear, without repression.

But that is as much a curse as it is a blessing.

Every prudent hothead who swears allegiance to you increases the danger

you are in.

If you want to survive, you must remain invisible to your allies and your

enemies.

Let his report speak not of your defiance, but of your compliance, of

your newfound devotion to Rome, that we all are survivalists.

I have one life, Sir William.

Must I waste another year in this godforsaken place?

God has not forsaken us. He's testing us.

Robert Dudley.

Is there any word of him?

He struck a deal with the king and is fighting alongside him in France in

exchange for a pardon.

So Robert knows the trick of survival, if nothing else.

A king grows impatient for word when he should return.

The doctor said she was due a month past.

It seems his wait is over.

No, not now.

Not yet.

You spoke too soon, my lord. It is but another false alarm.

and not cannon fire.

I've come for her.

You are to come to London to court, my lady.

How so, sir?

The queen is no longer.

She died this morning.

And her child?

It seems there is no child, nor ever was.

Her symptoms were of a tumor.

Preparations are in hand to transfer the realm in your name, your majesty.

A delegation of privy councillors is on the way to pronounce you queen.

If she is dead, prove it to me, sir.

How does the weather, Sir Henry?

The wind is harsh today, my lady.

Your Majesty.

I have braved worse, I fancy.

I hope you know that I only ever acted out of duty.

Then your duty is done, sir.

This is the work of the Lord.

And it is marvelous in our eyes.

Your Majesty.

Your cousin the Duke of Norfolk is waiting outside, Your Grace. He is most

insistent on an audience with you.

He must wait his turn like the others.

See how the buzzards descend.

Your Majesty, dear.

My Lord Norfolk.

I come to serve you. You had but to name it.

You see your impatience has not lessened over the years, Thomas.

Nor your wit, cousin.

As ever, we are all diminished by it.

As by your beauty.

I shall take your offer under advice, cousin.

If it is advice you seek, then.

If the post of Secretary of State is not yet taken, then I will... As you know, I

was tutored by the finest scholars in the land. I am fluent in five languages

and conversant in the principles of economics and philosophy, both ancient

and modern.

I'm also an expert in literature, music and poetry.

And my horsemanship, they say, is unparalleled.

But should I ever require advice, you shall be the first to know it.

Robbie? Look

at

you.

How do I look, pray?

Ah, you want me to worship at the altar of your beauty like all the others

who've caught your favour. Mm-hm.

Is that a frown line I see? Oh, yes, the hands of a queen.

You don't look the same to me as always.

I've been waiting for you to summon me, Bess.

I couldn't wait any longer.

I trust your wife as well.

Your court is stuffed full of married men that might be the exception.

exiled and excluded with no explanation, no reprieve.

My father was not a man to defy Bess, on the subject of marriage or any other.

I'd be punished for my obedience to him.

Since you ask, my wife has been sickly of late, or I would have come to you

sooner, invited or not.

If she is unwell, your duty lies with her.

Do you think it's duty that brings me here?

Ride with me, Bess.

Ride with me like you used to.

I am needed in court.

Host of Secretary of State, Sir William.

I can think of no better man to serve me.

But there is a condition.

Whatever my personal will or preference, you shall always give me the counsel I

need. Not what I want to hear.

No matter how much I rail against you.

I will hold you to that, Your Majesty.

I would first counsel caution, if I may, that you become familiar with the

functions of State, your new responsibilities, before you embark... I

have endured the cautious life too long.

You of all people know that.

You saw how my people greeted me.

If I am to keep their hearts, surely I act decisively with confidence and

purpose. They must start by addressing the issue of your marriage before rumour

and speculation undermine their fervour.

The King of Denmark's son has been mooted, as has King Elik of Sweden.

God's breath, Sir William. Let us get my coronation ceremony out of the way

before you plan another for my nuptials.

The people need to know the succession is secured.

The realm is safe.

You cannot rule alone, can you?

Is that the list of counsellors?

The first are those that served under your sister, and the second are those I

recommend.

Pembroke is such a swaggerer.

But he can raise an army of knights at your command.

Norfolk? You saw how puffed up he is.

And as my cousin, he has a claim to the throne, so he boasts.

All the more reason to keep him close to the throne where we can see him.

Robert Dudley.

Man's a son of a traitor.

A rank opportunist. None of us are responsible for the sins of our father,

Sir William.

And opportunism is no sin when it's for survival.

Or in his case, advancement.

By that token, half the men in my court could be found wanting.

Will you be inviting his wife to court also?

A wife's place is at home.

Indulge me in this one thing, William.

I shall forever be amenable to your demands.

As you say.

You must act decisively.

Here are my wishes and intentions.

I dislike waste and profligacy in all its forms.

I intend to oversee the national budget with the same rigor as with my

households and estates.

My foreign policy shall be directed by the same principles.

I will always defend England's shores, but I will not decimate our resources

trying to expand on them.

You shall find me resolute on this.

As for religion...

Henceforth, all services will be conducted not in Latin, but English,

starting with my coronation.

How can my people understand the power of prayer unless they first understand

its meaning?

If they are to accept the Protestant faith, it must be through persuasion,

not purges.

Let the Catholics keep their crucifixes and robes if they wish.

There is but one Jesus Christ.

The rest is trifles.

Thank you.

She's her father's daughter, no matter what they say.

The hair proves it.

Look closely, sir.

Her eyes are her mother's.

That's it Queen!

But a loser, nonetheless.

Your familiarity with the Queen is as offensive as it is disrespectful, sir.

Your need is greater than mine, I fancy.

It's damp, but it's still serviceable.

Next time, it will be your swollen head I aim for, Dudley.

Well, judging by your performance, your aim is nothing to boast of, sir.

My Lord Norfolk, I will not tolerate threats of violence in my presence.

God's blood, it is but a game.

Now shake hands.

Be done with it.

If you think such behavior finds favor with me, gentlemen, you are very much

mistaken.

That one is not destined to die in his bed, my lord.

If indeed it is his own bed that he sleeps in.

Robbie, your familiarity borders on contempt.

One of my own by recompense. No, no, no, no.

You must open it.

It's our family heirloom.

My late mother's favorite piece.

Then by rights, your wife should have it.

Rubies are not our color.

So, will the Spanish ambassador be impressed?

Your efforts are wasted, Bess.

He's old, nearsighted, and has an abhorrence of red hair.

See the insolence I must endure, Lettie.

Spanish ambassador.

He

sent this

gift as a little token of his esteem.

A ruby, no less.

And quite a magnificent specimen too, is it not?

As you know, the word ruby stems from the Latin word for red, Your Grace,

symbolizing both heat and fire, and thus passion.

Some might think such a gift from the husband of my late sister a little

inappropriate.

Allow me, Your Majesty.

Your Majesty, if I may.

The heir of Pembroke.

Your fondness exceeds propriety. I will not be made to look like a concubine

before my own court.

You go too far, Robbie.

Bess, wait!

Your Majesty!

Do we deal with the English suitors first, or the foreigners?

We're not all assembled yet, sir. If Robert Dudley can't grace us with his

presence, we proceed without him.

The Earl of Arran asks that his name be added to the list of those for the

Queen's hands. Does the Earl of Arundel, Rutland, and the Earl of Shaftsburg?

Likewise. Sir William Pickering.

It's bastard children litter every parish.

Well, the Queen seemed most taken with him, William.

This is about state policy, not the whims of a woman, sovereign or not. Her

judgment cannot be relied upon.

Is not her ill-chosen attachment to Robert Dudley proof of that?

What advantage is there in a domestic union?

Any Englishman we choose could cause dissent and division in the country. No,

foreign match is the one.

The Spanish ambassador's been sniffing around the palace like a dog on heat.

Is King Philip a contender? After the bloody purges he inflicted when married

to her sister, the Queen, would never contemplate such a union. In terms of a

foreign match, we currently have the Hapsburg proposal.

Are they a king of Sweden, of course? Well, admitting?

Perhaps,

folks, sweet. Which son does the emperor propose?

His two youngest. Either Ferdinand or Charles.

Charles is the more manly. The French will be implacably opposed. As will

Spain. There's somebody closer to her, my friend.

it's Austria. Shall we make it official? Our remit is to recommend our

preferences to the Queen, my Lord. Nothing more. And her remit is to accept

our recommendations, Sir William, to do otherwise flouts our authority.

We have the chance to end this wretched petticoat government, my Lords. Let us

seize it.

Subject to negotiation, the Queen will marry the Archduke Charles.

Agreed?

Is this your day?

Then you are a fool indeed.

It was never my intention for you to witness such craven indulgence, Your

Majesty.

My shame was already too much to bear.

Tread carefully, Robbie.

One day you may strain my patience too far.

It's uplifting to hear her laugh again, is it not?

A joy indeed, my lord.

Now, you are to stay with Mrs. Oddingsell until your health is

restored, my love.

She will ensure you every need is met.

You are all that I need, husband.

Can you not stay with me?

You know the snake pit of duplicity, the court is, Amy.

if I am absent too long there are plenty who will fill the void.

and the Queen's favor can be capricious.

when it shines on you her generosity knows no bounds and aren't we already

reaping the rewards of that?

the house in Kew is but a start and she speaks of another in Surrey?

and an estate in Warwickshire?

is it only for that you seek her favor?

Power is not always visible, Amy.

If you have a voice, you can shape not just how that power is used, but your

own destiny.

Now, I have risked the tower and the scaffold for such a chance.

Do not ask me to forgo that now.

Your physician will attend her daily.

And if the pain or she weakens... I will summon you, sir, as I promised.

Be vigilant in your care for her, madam.

She might well be the best part of me.

Stay close, Cat.

Your Majesty, Your Grace.

Your Grace.

Your Grace. Your Majesty, Your Grace. Your Majesty, Your Britannic... No. Your

Grace, I am delighted to tell you that the council has reached a decision on

the issue... Now, there is another matter we must attend to, that of your

marriage. We feel that a match with the Archduke Charles of Austria is the most

propitious. The erm, negotiating terms I've drafted.

A union with the Habsburg Empire will not only assure your future prosperity,

but will deter any acts of aggression from France or Spain.

And the Archduke has no principality of his own, so he's free to reside here and

relieve you of the burdens of state.

If sharing the sovereignty deters you, then let him be your consul. That too

can be negotiated.

God's breath, what worm of a man would accept such a meagre status?

If he does, he will never grace my bed.

In the months since my accession, Sir William, Have I been negligent in my

duties of state?

The religious acts before Parliament in my name.

The legislation for the relief of the poor. Was I not instrumental in their

construction? Your diligence is not in dispute, Your Grace. For it is not

fitting for a woman to bear such weighty responsibility on her own.

Your duty is now to secure succession.

Provide England with an heir.

As my duty lies in giving you advice without fear or favour.

By all means offer your advice, my lord.

But I am under no obligation to act upon it!

I fear I was precipitous in my response to the issue of my marriage, Sir

William.

If you will furnish me with the details of the Archduke's suit, I shall consider

his proposal most carefully.

Archduke Charles is but a puny boy, barely winging from his mother's breast.

As always, you exaggerate, Robbie. He is my age, more or less.

And well endowed, so they say.

In wealth and power, perhaps.

In other respects.

Had anyone bothered to consult me, I would have forewarned them.

Even as a child, you vowed never to take a husband.

Dear God, what will happen to your mother who can blame you?

Would you forgo the chance of motherhood, Bess, for the sake of a

childish vow?

It's not only men who can be corrupted by power.

An heir can be as much a threat as a comfort in that.

But the love of a man is hardly that of a child.

It can be as fickle. As can a woman's.

But a woman ruler is not as other women, is she?

Like the coin that bears her image, there are two sides to her.

On the one, she embodies the feminine frailty of her sex.

And on the other, she is the body politic.

Ordained by God.

Ah, well, then it is to the frail and feminine one I must appeal.

Oh, but she listens only to the counsel of the other.

And how can a woman be sore if a man truly loves her for herself?

Or for her powerless queen?

Cannot a man love them both?

Why, you think so little of my honour that I might endanger yours?

If you thought more of your wife, your honour would not be in doubt.

Your wit is your protection, Bess.

I fear it makes for a lonely bed.

The doctor has ordered that I must spend my days resting now, my love.

But a visit from you, no matter how brief, will do me more good than all his

potions.

I know that duty to a queen must come before a wife.

But I keep hearing rumors from court how the queen is apt to flirt with her

courtiers.

How young men mortgage their estates to buy outfits to catch her eye. How she

plays one off against the other.

Take care, Robert.

For such games are about power.

It could be your soul you mortgage.

For women are not so well versed in its rules, so make them up.

Therein danger lies.

The favors she bestows can be withdrawn as surely as the clouds obscure the sun.

I see now, if my life has a purpose, it is to protect you from your vanity

and the price you will pay if you fall prey

to hers.

Your Majesty, may I present Sir Francis Walsingham.

He has come from France with news for us.

I hope your news is worthy of rousing me from my slumber, Sir Francis.

Two weeks ago, the King of France fell ill with an ear infection.

He died on Friday morning.

As a widow, your cousin, the Queen of Scots, will now be competing in the

marriage market to forge her own political alliance against us. I fear

her youth and beauty are such.

She will be a magnet for every Catholic prince in Europe.

It is for this I was so rudely summoned from my bed.

My agents informed me she plans to return to Scotland, Your Majesty, to

rally her Catholic followers there.

They boast she is the one true queen of England.

Only assassination can end your heretic rule.

Have you been encouraged by the French who pledged to support that cause?

Henceforth, you must be guarded.

At all times, all your food must be tasted, all gifts and tokens examined

for poison.

Your progress amongst the people must be curtailed.

Curtailed?

My best defense lies in the love of my people.

How can they do that if they cannot see me?

With respect, Your Majesty, your best defense lies in marrying someone the

French will fear. I'm not so bereft of logic, I don't know common sense when I

hear it, Sir William.

Have I not said I will consider the Archduke Charles' proposal most

carefully?

Now I bid you good night, gentlemen.

Lest my own beauty suffer from my interrupted rest.

Charles, you must rise.

Prepare.

Baron Royner, the Archduke Charles's envoy, has arrived.

And the gifts he brings.

damask caskets, and a white horse fit only for a king.

If it's to be a courtship by proxy, let us sweep him off his feet.

I see how attentive she is, how she

leans towards him.

The Archduke chose well in his envoy.

No woman can resist such a man.

Let's hope he has the wit to let her win.

If he doesn't, God help him.

Ah, the acid test.

The Archduke's portrait.

Is she smiling?

I cannot tell.

We are nudging towards a result, my lords. I fill it in my bones.

As we were. Was she not amenable to the Archduke's picture?

Oh, yes. She said she found his features most pleasing.

She also said how she never trusts the portrait, how an artist can use his

skills to disguise the faults of his subject.

Well, I trust that his lordship is faultless in the flesh.

Sir Robert Dudley's name was constantly on her lips. Is there anything there I

should be aware of?

A friend from childhood, my lord.

A fondness for him is nothing more than that of a sister.

Nothing more.

I see.

If she has been neglectful of her honor, the Archduke will have a countenance, a

match with her.

Nor I collude with it.

My lords.

Thank you.

He has duties at court he cannot come.

Will you leave me please?

The pearl ones.

Let's see.

He has a wife.

You cavort with him as though he were a suit. I treat him as he deserves, as a

loyal and trusted friend.

He is my only joy cat.

When I am with him, the burden I must carry is lifted.

I am the child I was never allowed to be. You of all people know the dark days

of that.

And the talk he plans to poison his wife so he can marry you.

Does that bring you joy too?

Poison lies with those saying such vile things. Who are they? Name them. If you

prove yourself unworthy as a queen, the love of your people can as easily tend

to contempt.

Your enemies will seize that.

Seek to take the throne away from you.

Is any man worth that price?

The tax of land you've given him, the money, the titles?

Will your next gift be your virtue or the realm itself, or is one the reward

for the other?

I'm sorry. Oh, forgive me, stay and forgive me.

There has been no impropriety between us.

God's wounds, when has there been an opportunity?

Do not my ladies sleep beside me?

Are there not guards on my door?

Am I not watched by a thousand eyes, day and night? And a thousand eyes, see how

you look at him, child.

Admit your love for him.

Only then can you find the courage to do what you must and discard him.

We are guilty of nothing immoral, by thought or deed.

If I choose so to dishonour myself, no one shall forbid me.

No one!

Are you not going to the fair today?

I was going to send the servants in my place, my lady.

Do come, Mrs.

Oddingsells.

I shall be sleeping.

What harm can come to me?

For an hour.

No longer.

Wait for me!

The summer days are long, the summer days are so long The winter

nights are cold,

the winter nights are so cold Thinking of an old song, and

all for your love, my dear

I see now if my life has a purpose it is to protect you from

your vanity and the price you will pay if you fall prey to

hers.

Dudley has cleared the decks by disposing of his wife. She is doing the

same. The coroner has not yet determined the cause of death, my lord. I fear

every court in Europe is rife with such talk, Sir William.

My agents report even the Queen of Scots saying how the Queen's favourite has

killed his wife to make room for her in his bed.

Sir Robert was here in court that day, sir. I can vouch for it. Death by design

requires only a willing mercenary to service it, my lord.

Thanks to the Queen, Dudley's not without fun. I will not tolerate such

talk of Her Majesty in my presence, sir. Do not let your loyalty blind you, Sir

William.

Her complicity is the talk of every pulpit and parish in the land.

If she chooses this corrupt union, she will go to bed a queen and wake up as

Lady Elizabeth again.

If she wakes at all.

Leave us.

Coroner's verdict.

No evidence or presumption of evil by any third party.

Then I'm exonerated. It's over.

Malicious tongues might take more convincing.

A few weeks will be but a memory, Riz.

I'll have to write it out, that's all.

It'll be worth the wait, I promise you.

You know we're destined to be together, Bess.

Marry me.

Do you not see your dishonor is mine too?

I cannot let what started with such hope for my people end in shameful ignorance.

There is only dishonor.

There is only dishonour where there is guilt.

Or must I swear my innocence to you too?

If you're looking for a reason not to love me, careful, Bess, you might find

one.

You must love again.

If you love me as you claim, you must leave court now.

Today.

If you love me, you would never ask me to do such a thing. I do not ask it.

I demand it.

If I am exiled, it will seem as proof of my guilt I'm done for.

All these months you kept me close, you were using me.

Playing with me for your own callous ends, as you do all men.

So long as I was married, you were safe.

Now I am free, you spurn me.

If I leave, I won't return, Bess.

The last time you ever see me.

Keep the fire stoked.

Keep it stoked.

This water's cold, Isabella. Bring more water. She

is

asking for you.

For a successor.

Is there a name?

An ancient Arabic remedy for smallpox.

The patient is entirely wrapped in red to sweat the pox out.

Can she see? Is it in her eyes yet?

Please, God, let us not spread to her brain.

Why, Lord, I... I fear

death possesses me.

The successor.

Honestly, we must have a name.

We need a name, Your Grace.

The protector of the realm, shall we?

But who was there in vain?

We just need to bring the temperature of our blood down as quickly as possible.

I must thank God for our merciful deliverance, my lord.

I know the timing is not propitious your grace but there is a matter of some

urgency. Must you always indulge in these tiresome preambles my lord? If

it's urgent say it.

I'm relieved your spirit is restored along with your health your majesty.

A decree from Parliament.

It is their will that your marriage negotiations with the Archduke Charles

be reopened without delay.

An invitation to his envoy has been issued to that effect.

Issued without my consent.

without even the meagre courtesy of discussion.

Parliament have yet to approve your annual subsidy.

Now is not the moment to antagonise them.

Do they think to blackmail me, Sir William?

Your illness was a salutary reminder to us all of your mortality.

The question of the succession can be detained no longer.

I can see them, so can others.

Henceforth, my ladies must only wear subdued colors, cat.

There can be but one sun in the universe.

of Parliament, councillors, I am told that some of you still take the view

that I must take a husband.

It is monstrous that the feet should think to rule their head.

Did you presume I should bend my will to yours on such a subject?

Was it not God's will that preserved me from my sickness for the life I must now

lead?

And it shall be his will alone I obey.

on the matter of my marriage.

If he so works my heart to incline it towards that state, then I assure you

the realm shall not go destitute of an heir.

But if it be his will, I continue to live outside the state of marriage, I

tell you, I would rather be turned out of the realm in my petticoats than defy

him.

It is England I married, my lords.

It shall be sufficient for me when I die.

that a marble headstone declares that this queen, having lived for such and

such a time, lived and died a virgin!

The Queen of Scots Envoy is due.

She'll see no one else.

You'll find only exceptions, sir?

No exceptions, she said.

You startled me, sir.

Sir James Melville, I am honoured indeed, Your Majesty.

I hope my cousin fared well in her journey back to Scotland.

Uncommonly well, Your Majesty.

She relishes being at home once again.

My father composed this ditty. Charming, is it not?

Indeed so, Your Majesty.

My cousin, too, is musical, I hear.

She plays like an angel, Your Grace.

As dexterously as I?

There is no comparison.

I am told she also dances sublimely. Oh, she is indeed deaf to foot.

Sublime is the word, Your Majesty.

I heard she is uncommon tall.

Is she not ungainly?

She is as graceful as a feather on the breeze, Your Grace.

So she is taller than I?

Taller by a few inches, I'd say.

Then she is too tall, for I am told I am the perfect height.

Your meeting with her has been delayed too long, Your Majesty.

Only then can you judge her true merits for yourself.

In that regard, she has sent you a gift.

I see now how she has so many suitors competing for her hand.

No doubt some foreign prince has caught her eye.

She favors an Englishman.

Her cousin, Lord Darnley, has been mooted in that regard.

Darnley? That feckless, unstable youth.

And as a steward, he has a claim to my throne.

A union between them both could pose a serious threat to the security of my

kingdom, sir.

Scotland is but a footfall away.

As your sister queen, she seeks only to strengthen the alliance between you.

then I have the perfect gift in mind for her to achieve that goal.

Who else can I trust with such a mission who I know will not betray me? I am a

Protestant. I am a commoner. She will never countenance such a match.

The earldom of Leicestershire has a heritage akin to royalty, does it not?

There are surely worse duties than to be married to a queen.

You know, I hadn't yet forsaken all hope of that.

There is no greater death than that of hope, Bess.

And no greater love than to sacrifice it.

Is this the frail feminine side-talking, or the divine virgin?

For queen and

country, so be it.

Robbie. They say her beauty is unparalleled.

Perhaps it will not be such, sir.

be it known to all those present that in recognition of his steadfast service and

loyalty to the queen and to the realm, on this day we do confer upon Robert

Dudley the dignity, splendor, and title of Earl of Leicester.

Queen of Scotland has defied you, Your Grace.

She has wed Lord Darnley.

His Holiness, Pope Pius V, calls upon all English Catholic subjects to

renounce the heretic rule of Elizabeth Tudor, usurper Queen of England. To all

intent and purposes, a warrant for your death.

It's not just renegade Catholics acting on orders of the Pope, you must fear.

The Queen of Scots has orchestrated yet another plot to depose you.

In her letters to me, she swears she has no knowledge of such a conspiracy.

Then her assurances are as threat-bearer as her honour. Reckless she may be, but

she's still an anointed queen as I am.

Your spies are either lax in their efficiency or in their loyalty, Sir

Francis. In the absence of a standing army, they're your best protection, Your

Majesty.

Thanks to their diligence, her latest intrigue has been exposed.

Seems she's found a friend in court.

Someone close to you.

who has elected to betray you.

I fear I shall soon have to sleep with a sword by my side, as my sister did, for

fear of being murdered in my own bed.

The Queen of Scots persists in her cause to seize my throne.

But unseating a monarch requires more than force.

Without the support of council or parliament, it could end in civil war.

So, who better to enlist to subvert their loyalty than someone whose

ambitions for advancement have been thwarted in my court?

Who can conveniently dust off his Catholicism as proof of his new fidelity

to Rome?

Do you have proof of such an entry?

Thanks to God and Walsingham.

The sweet talk in his letters to the Queen of Scots speak volumes.

Of all qualities, I prized loyalty the most.

But now I perceive mercy to be as worthy.

To err is human, to forgive divine.

But the gateway to forgiveness must first be confession.

If loyalty be the issue, then it is Dudley who should be called to account.

You think it was mischance?

She came to marry Darnley. It was Dudley's backdoor machinations that he

may remain here at court with you.

Impugning my Lord Leicester's integrity insults not just his good name, but my

intelligence, cousin.

Your cousin, your blood kin, I tell you.

The last of me is fatally misplaced and always has been. Our royal blood is from

birth, Thomas.

How we use its power thereafter is from choice.

You have made yours, as I have.

And you have chosen her.

Take him to the tower.

Dispose of it.

I had all but given up waiting for you, my sweet Lettuce.

One day you will have to account to God for your actions.

For my blood and the misery I have endured will be forever remembered.

Do you remember those many years ago when my sister held us up the tower?

Come into my presence again and I shall fetch you back.

We shall yet win a famous victory over these enemies of God, of my kingdom, and

of my people!

I

was

starting to think your absence was from sulking, Lobby.

I've missed such a performance.

A puppet is still a puppet, French Prince or not.

found spreading subversive propaganda.

Whatever the crime, a grisly fate for any man.

But then a man's fate lies in his own hands, does it not?

Is this choice of venue to remind me where

my loyalties lie?

Unless a man might be insulted.

We're under no illusion, Master Gifford.

The ten years we've kept the Queen of Scots confined has made her a martyr to

her Catholic supporters.

My Lord Burleigh, the gentleman I spoke of, Master Gifford.

We also know another attempt to rescue her is being devised.

It's details we're lacking.

The Catholic League in Europe is behind this one.

Once their freedom is secured, King Philip has pledged Spain's support to...

assassinate Queen Elizabeth, as they prelude to invasion.

And your role in this enterprise?

to act as an intermediary to find a means of communication with the Scottish

Queen.

Do you care to prove it?

If we were to be less zealous, allow you access

to... There

was a man

who worked As her page went first, she, um...

She sought sanctuary in England.

He has volunteered to orchestrate her rescue.

His name?

Anthony Babington.

As for trying to keep his visitor secret by hiding him behind that screen... They

say every tavern in London is laying bets on when her betrothal will be

announced.

The Duke of Anjou is a wave-faced brat half her age.

Such a man can never capture her hand, much less her heart.

Oh.

She seems most taken with him.

And later last evening, when you were, um... ...indisposed...

It was transparent to everyone. She was captivated by him.

She talks of nothing but his wit and his intellect.

And my frog prince, she calls him.

And his emissary, Simeon, she calls her monkey.

Well, I confess, I sometimes wonder which of the two she prefers.

Precisely her purpose, Christopher, to keep us all wondering.

The wonder is you are so witless to fall for it.

The wonder is she's not yet guessed your own situation.

Of all people, you know how she feels about such subterfuge.

And the depth of her rage, should she discover it.

Babington's letter to the Queen of Scots.

You can't say that I don't deliver, sir.

How long to decipher the code?

As long as it takes, sir. As always.

Do not fail me, Master Gifford.

I cannot concentrate while being watched, sir.

Privacy, please.

Whilst we halt Spain's supremacy in the region, they've already annexed

Portugal. Is England to be next?

If you know of a better protection than an alliance with France, my lord, name

it. A treaty.

Treaties can be reneged upon.

The match ensures our security and the succession in one stroke.

And if nothing else, puts pay to the vile rumours that I am barren-born.

It has taken us years of negotiation to get this far with the Duke, my lord.

Do not undermine that now, for God's sake.

Marriage will make the papal menace vanish in a puff of smoke.

War with Spain will be averted and the Catholics here appeased.

The war will come to us if people get wind of such a union.

They'd rather take on Spain with their bare hands than be subsumed to France.

Enough, my lords.

Pick up the pace.

Our dinner is escaping.

If I could have a moment, Your Majesty.

The draft of my act of association for your approval, Your Majesty.

Parliament are waiting for your response to ratify it.

Any claimant of their associates conspiring to seize the throne shall

forfeit all right of succession.

And their life.

We all witnessed... Your distress over the signing of the Duke of Norfolk's

death warrant.

This act absolves you of all such onerous responsibility.

You will simply be adhering to the law, discharging your responsibility to the

state and letting us... I am not so obtuse I cannot grasp the implication,

Sir Francis.

And if the claimant is ignorant of any conspiracy on their behalf?

On that count, my sister could have sent me to the scaffold.

As your heir, the Queen of Scots would do the same, given the opportunity.

And the blood she would shed would not be yours alone.

Her ambition to make England Catholic once more will engulf your people in a

civil war more catastrophic than anything your sister ever inflicted on

us.

The physician awaits, Your Majesty.

Amended.

The claimant must have knowledge of any conspiracy on their behalf.

Proven knowledge, Sir Francis.

My signature is contingent on that

Purpose of my examination is to ascertain whether there is any physical

impediment to your bearing a child I'm afraid it requires that I

Do what you must get it over with

I can find nothing to prevent Her Majesty from bearing a child.

A sublimation code. See?

Every letter of the alphabet is substituted by another. These coded

symbols, they denote the keywords.

Some letters occur with more frequency.

The letter E, for example. But the content, sir.

Does Babington lay out the details of their conspiracy?

Is it sufficient?

Proven knowledge is what Her Majesty demanded.

For that, we need the Queen of Scots' response.

Also come to he who waits, Master Phoebus.

That

is

the Queen's private business, sir.

You're not permitted to discuss those things out of the bedchamber. Then let

us find the bedchamber, huh?

I can tell you something, but I can't tell you this.

The Earl of Leicester is my most trusted and loyal friend, sir.

It's a sorry day when I was in my flat-mouthed bed of hollers. That you

choose to indulge in it does you no credit, monsieur.

Your Majesty, he's not worth your laws. Il vous a trahi.

He has betrayed you.

May God strike me down if I tell a lie.

Your

audience

with the queen is delayed, my lady.

You double-faced toad of Australia!

You dare to deny me the chance of my own marriage, while seizing it for yourself

with that she-wolf, that victim!

I won't offer you the chance of marriage a dozen times, and a dozen times you

refused me. And I thank God for my wit that I did, for my merciful escape.

You are loathsome to my eyes. I detest the very sight of you!

I have mortgaged my life in the hope that someday we'd be together. I have

stood by and watched while others fawn at your feet, flattering your vanity.

You did not go empty-handed for your pains. Well, it was a poor exchange for

an empty bed!

This wretched vow of virginity was your choice, not mine.

This marriage was when?

A year since past.

Was she still in my service when it began?

After she left, when?

In your service.

It was for comfort, Bess.

It was a diversion.

And when she left my court to marry Walter Devereux, did you still partake

of her comfort?

How fortuitous for you both he died so suddenly.

Her son, who bears Devereaux's name.

He too is called Robert, is he not?

Does he have dark eyes like you?

Such rank insinuation is unworthy of you, Bess.

The bond we shared was like no other, Robbie.

You have defiled me.

So what's it to be banishment again best another mission abroad Henceforth if I

see you I shall not know you You are dead to me

Look on her well, Lettuce, for there true loyalty lies.

Tis a pity you did not learn from Cat's example, is it not?

I am heart-broke, Your Majesty, that we have so incurred your displeasure.

Alas, we cannot always choose where love's arrow falls.

Such sentimental claptrap finds no favour with me, madam. Get up!

Imported silk?

From France.

The colour is too vulgar for my taste.

Gold?

I'm told you also run a lavish household.

A retinue of staff, glittering soirees, hunting parties.

For all the world, a queen holding court.

I must occupy myself somehow whilst my husband attends you, Your Grace.

Then I have some cheerful news for you.

His attendance on me is no longer required.

All gifts, gratuities, and monopolies shall cease forthwith, along with his

salary.

You must learn to live within your means, Lettice.

Cut your cloth, though I doubt it will be imported now.

Do you remember those many years ago when my sister held us at the tower?

Those long nights hearing the Lions roar the screams from the rack stench of

death in our nostrils Come into my presence again, and I shall fetch you

back

Jones again.

How does she do it?

SHS is the gymnasium of the mind, my lord.

Such a mind.

Such a body.

You are indeed Evan Sint.

My lord Lester has taken ill of your grace.

He hopes that you might attend him.

How many times has he feigned illness to get my attention?

How many times have I run to him?

I'm done with his trickery.

Tell him to pack his bags, be gone.

What, no fever?

Was that beyond your contrivance?

Your melodramatics were always entertaining, my lord. They lighten even

the dullest day.

I know that companionship of the flesh is a poor

substitute for what we both share best.

I am but a man after all.

That it had to be her is what cuts.

Be thankful it was her.

In exchange for privileges, she is settled for a loveless marriage.

My heart dies elsewhere, and we both know it.

Now tell me, is it truly your will to wed your folk prince, Bess?

Hmm?

You asked for your penance. That is it, Robbie.

For marry him I shall now.

And I do it for an heir.

A child.

I am of an age now when the idea of that... You

have malingered long enough, my lord.

You have duties at court.

It was a poor show this time, Robbie. Not up to your usual performance.

By one John Stubbs of Norfolk, the discovery of a gaping gulf whereunto

England is like to be swallowed by a French marriage.

Let all true subjects know that Queen is being led as a lamb to the slaughter in

this disastrous union with the Duke of Anjou.

How can Her Majesty surrender her virginity to a foreigner and a Catholic

be subject to his influence?

Has she forgotten the bloody legacy of her sister from such a match?

Proof of his deviousness is in his desire to marry a woman so many years

older.

We must double the centuries in your quarters. Outside the palace, an armed

guard must accompany you at all times.

And let my people think I've succumbed to this malicious spleen.

All copies of this profanity must be confiscated.

I want this man's stubs apprehended, dealt with.

Hostility to your projected marriage is not limited to a handful of miscreants,

Your Grace.

The view is widespread among your subjects.

And you, gentlemen, where is the focus of your opinion now on this matter?

This decision is too weighty to take alone, my lords. I must have your

counsel on how I am to proceed.

Advise me!

I cannot wait for that day, Majesty.

I shall live for it.

In her

reply,

the Queen of Scots writes mainly of her rescue.

On the subject of assassination, she is more circumspect.

Your proven knowledge might be hard to prove, sir.

I heard tell when Her Majesty was to be sent to the Tower by her sister, she

wrote, begging her for mercy.

In order that no incriminating postscript could later be added, she

drew lines thus.

Pity her cousin lacked.

Such forethought.

Take this down.

I would be glad to know... Is this to be in her coded letter?

Both the coded letter and the transcription, Master Philippus.

I would be glad to know the names of the six gentlemen who are to accomplish

the dispatch of the imposter queen.

With such knowledge, I may advise them on how best to achieve their mission.

As you see, her postscript is in response to Babington's letter.

I took the precaution yesterday of ordering a search of her quarters in

Derbyshire.

Texts on cipher codes were secreted there.

Also, drafts of letters to her agents in Spain.

There is no question of her culpability.

Mr. Babington and his associates must be rounded up, brought to trial.

And the Queen of Scotland?

If my cousin confesses her guilt, vows to put an end to her wretched plotting,

she will yet be pardoned. The new statute of association dictates that as

claimant and chief conspirator, she too must be brought to trial.

Your Majesty, that is the law now.

How prescient you were in that legislation, Sir Francis.

I see now I underestimated you in that regard. I will not make the same mistake

again.

My lords, you shall attend the proceedings on my behalf.

Remember, the eyes of the world behold the actions of us princes, and judge us

accordingly.

Cousin, you have in various ways and means attempted to take my life and

bring my kingdom to destruction by bloodshed.

These treasons have been proved against Babington, and your fellow conspirators

have been punished for their actions.

It is my command that you answer the peers of my kingdom as if I myself were

present. Act honestly, cousin, and you might yet obtain my favor.

I repudiate the legality of these proceedings against me.

Like you, as a queen, I am subject only to God's jurisdiction.

The evidence against me is forgery.

I know nothing of this man, Babington, nor ever exchange letters with him.

I declare, I would rather shipwreck my soul than seek your death.

Your commissioners have reached a verdict, Your Majesty.

The Queen of Scots is found guilty on the charge of treason and of conspiring.

in your assassination.

As you know, the penalty for such an offense is... Death.

Mortua non mordet.

If we two were milkmaids with pills upon our arms, then this matter was just

between us.

Her co-conspirators were hung, drawn, and quartered, Your Grace.

Anything less than her death will reek of nepotism.

Or worse.

Of a vengeful queen expunging a rival heir.

And her execution could yet send a clarion call to Spain.

To make good their threat.

Send their armada against us.

God in heaven, forgive me.

What have I done?

For France to collect salt.

There was the Spanish fleet.

130 galleons I counted.

Like a vast floating city they were.

In half-moon formation, stretching near ten miles across.

The masts and prows of such height, your majesty.

Such might, it seems they wiped out the very sky.

The ocean rolling under their weight. The beacons are lit.

They are sighted off the Cornish coast.

Heading which way?

Northeast. My intelligence is sound. To anchor off Calais. Wait for the second

force to embark from Flanders here and join them.

Then it begins.

Their soldiers are professional.

Expertly trained. If they get through the channel, they'll sweep through Kent,

crush London within a week. No mongrel of a Spanish will get through, sir. Not

while I have bread.

What were from Plymouth?

Drake and the Western Squadron left under cover of darkness.

He means to get behind the Spanish fleet and attack from the rear.

I pray to God the tide stays with them.

News, my lords, I lack news. Is the Isle of Wight secure?

But barely, Your Grace.

Two galleons are lost to them. Only two?

Then it is stalemate.

Drake's squadron is even now pursuing them towards the Straits of Dover.

Without sufficient munitions for his cannons, that's all he can do.

And the Flanders fleet?

Pulled out by storms.

And let us hope it is a Protestant win, my lords. Keeps blowing for us.

More papal propaganda the Spanish carry. Of no interest.

Cestuous bastard of depraved courtesan Anne Boleyn. Cursed heretic.

Shame of her sex and princely name.

Of no interest indeed.

I fear it may be of interest to your Catholic subjects, Your Grace.

Have faith, my lord. They are English before they are Catholic.

A statement from one Cardinal Don Pedro, captured by Drake, our new sire.

Upon our glorious assault on England, all heretics will be whipped by chains

until dead.

Protestant children under seven to follow their fathers.

The rest branded on the forehead with the letter L for Lucifer.

How very original.

When this is over, you will go to Buxton, Robbie.

Take the water, or I shall brand you myself.

And the L shall not be for Lutheran, but Lunkhead.

Second

force

is set to embark from Flanders.

And in the name of God.

Listen to reason.

For your own safety, you must return to Whitehall.

The trust you put in your people is worthy, Bess.

But if they turn against you, there is no protection for you here.

Or is it a martyr's death in battle you hanker for?

And a hero's epitaph?

What greater purpose to a prince's life than to teach us how to die?

They say the Queen of Scots met her death with courage.

Yet it took three strokes of the axe to dispatch her.

After there was panic.

I thought they still detected some movement in her.

It was but her wretched dog, sheltering beneath her skirts.

That was not yet her final epitaph.

When the executioner lifted up her severed head it fell from his hand.

He was left holding only her weak.

It's a thin line between respect and ridicule, is it not?

My loving people, I have always so conducted myself that under God,

my strength and safety lies in the loyal hearts and goodwill of my subjects.

So I come amongst you at this time.

Not for my recreation, but being resolved in the midst and heat of battle

to live or die amongst you all.

To lay down for my God and for my kingdom and my people.

My honor and my blood, even in the dust.

I know I have the body of a weak and feeble woman.

But I have the heart and stomach of a king.

And a king of England, too.

And I think foul scorn that Spain or any prince of Europe should dare to invade

the borders of my realm.

To which, rather than face that dishonor,

I will myself take up arms beside you.

I will be your general and your rewarder for your virtues in the field.

We know that you already deserve rewards and crowns, and we do assure you, in the

word of a prince, they shall be paid to you.

And take heed, too, of my lieutenant general.

For no prince ever commanded a more worthy or noble subject as he.

By your obedience to him, by your valor in battle, we shall yet

win a famous victory over these enemies of God, of my kingdom!

Night of the 28th of July, two miles southeast of Calais, reinforced by

Seymour and Winters.

They are celebrating the noise master. Yes, yes, read, read.

Drake unleashed eight fire ships among the anchored Spanish galleons to

dislodge their formation.

Believing the ships were primed with gunpowder, the Spanish cut their anchor.

And fled in utmost confusion.

A running battle was there to maintain their gravelline.

So close were we to the enemy.

We were within speech of one another.

Then the wind shifted.

What remained of the armada was swept by storms and gales to founder in the North

Sea. And the Flanders force?

Intelligence that the Flanders force will not embark without the protection

of the Spanish fleet.

Then they are vanquished.

God breathed and they were scattered.

We are saved, Robin.

Your Majesty, please, I beg you, open the door to me.

Lord, we must make preparations for our celebration.

I will issue a proclamation for a day of holiday throughout the run.

And a new coin must be struck in honor of our triumph.

And let us make a victory procession to St. Paul's to thank God for our... So

solemn on such a day, William.

Shame on you.

I'll speak with you alone, Your Grace.

As you know, after Tilbury, your love letter was a journey to Buxton to take

the waters.

En route, he fell ill with a fever and was forced to stop at his hunting lodge

in Oxford.

He was found there this morning by his servant.

Say it is not so.

Say it is not so.

He was alone.

There was a letter for you by your side.

How do you think that was?

Your Majesty, enough now.

Throughout the realm, your people call your triumph the greatest victory since

Agincourt, and they cannot celebrate it without you.

My Lord Lester would never want his passing.

To Eclipse, your finest hour.

I humbly beseech you to pardon your poor old servant, being so bold in writing to

ask how my gracious lady is.

As ever, your welfare is all that consumes me.

As for my own poor case, I am hoping to find a perfect cure at Buxton as you

instructed, so I can all the more quickly return to your side.

Until then, as always, I kiss your feet, your most loving,

most faithful servant, Robbie.

Something to come along

That young man yonder, do I know him?

Robert Devereux, Your Grace.

The second Earl of Essex.

My Lord Leicester's stepson, Leicester. Do you not remember him?

I seem to recall, my lord, when presented to me as a child, you shrank

from me.

So afraid were you I might deign to kiss you.

I am a grown man now, your majesty.

And no matter.

His son in all but name.

Every town, every village calls him England's glory.

He basks in their praise.

They say that every dog must have his day.

They also say a man's finest hour precedes his darkest, Sir Robert.

Your Majesty, just being in your presence again is all that sustained me

these dreary months. Sir Walter Raleigh!

Is he here?

Your injury caused us grievous concern, my lord. I could not sleep for worry.

It was but a flesh wound, Your Majesty.

A trifle.

Never think your skill in battle has gone unnoticed, Sir Walter.

Posterity will vouch for it, as I will, even though some might think to eclipse

it. A fool was it said, absence makes the heart grow fonder.

Absence is something that some might use to their advantage, my lord.

Salvaged from the Spanish wrecks by my own hand, Your Grace.

My homecoming gift to you.

Where are the gold rings?

The casks of sugar?

The Portuguese wines?

I foresaw it would end this way.

Everyone would benefit from this folly except she who actually funded it.

My Lord Cecil.

Assess the value of these trinkets and offset it against the Earl's debt to us.

Your Majesty knows more than anyone the state of my impoverished finances.

Surely you will not be so cruel. I am not inclined to reward incompetence, my

lord. And the cruelty is yours in betraying my trust.

The celebratory concert is cancelled and the firework displayed.

Sir Charles, I am in the mood for chess.

Enough time has been wasted on this debacle.

propels her to spite and jealousy.

There is but one sun in the universe. Well, another sun rises now, and the

more that she fears it will outshine her, the greater the venom she spits.

It is that cripple of a pen pusher, Robert Cecil, who has turned her.

The wretch takes every opportunity to malign you.

He may have her ear.

My son holds the greater prize. It is your name they call out there, none

other.

Much use is that when I face bankruptcy.

She who controls the purse controls the man.

Not this man.

Not my son.

When you were absent, they say that she pined for you like a lovesick harpy.

Her scrawny heart can be yours again if you play her right.

Your stepfather always said that however bitter their rouse, their

reconciliations were always sweeter.

For each one came gift wrapped.

The face is familiar.

Alas, the name escapes me.

Sir Charles Blount, as well you know, my lord.

They say your company is much sought after by the queen of late.

That you spend hours closeted alone in her privy chamber.

We are exploring the theological ramifications of Dante's Inferno.

My lady relishes such pursuits, as do I.

He has the sallow look of a scholar about him, it's true.

This token you wear denotes what?

This is a gift of favor from the queen.

It's to mark my skill at jousting.

I'll be blunt, Blount.

You do not strike me as a man who exhibits much in the way of athletic

prowess. Which leads me to one of two conclusions.

Either you took advantage of the queen and purloined the chess piece while she

was distracted.

No such thing. Or you are a fool.

For only a fool would display her favor in so cheap a fashion.

An alien knave would make such a cheap insinuation.

Thank you.

What folly has your impetuousness led you to now?

It is but a flesh wound, Your Majesty.

A trifle.

Is your life of so little value you would risk it for the sake of pointless

pride? It is my life which is pointless.

Your unkindness makes it so.

I strive only to be worthy of you.

I am human.

I make mistakes.

Am I to be condemned for that?

Night and day, hope and jealousy fight within me. I have no respite from it.

Only you have the power to free me of the tyranny of one that I may rise to

the other.

But when you shun me, demean me, I wish to God he

had struck me through the heart, be done with it.

Hush now.

You are not the only one fighting demons, Robbie.

Do you not see?

Without your love, I am lost hidden.

There is only futility.

Despair. Have I not proved my affection a hundred times?

Given you every opportunity for advancement, every chance to prove your

worth?

Your respect is harder to win, it seems.

Respect is not the prize you think, Robbie.

People have short memories. Then they are fools.

And unworthy of you.

Do your work well, sir, for there is none so precious to me.

You think that I am so callous that my words were but a cynical ploy?

A sham.

You know me less well than you think, Francis.

Antichrist of ingratitude, duplicitous mongrel of a Frenchman.

Did I not help him to his crown?

Support his claim to be king?

In forging an alliance with Spain, he seeks only to secure the safety of

France, Your Majesty.

We could do worse than follow his example.

Ally with Spain?

when they are trying to use Ireland as a backdoor to conquer us.

Tyrone is not just another Irish renegade.

He is using their support to oust us.

He is their gateway to invasion. Any treaty would be conditional that King

Philip ceases his support of Tyrone and his Catholic rebels. That is implicit.

Without Spain's resources, Tyrone's rebellion will collapse.

Our sovereignty over Ireland will be assured.

Only force can accomplish that.

We must mount a double offensive.

attack the Spanish colonies, lead a military assault against Tyrone in

Ireland. Boldness is the key.

And who will lead such a bold campaign?

I fear the question is rhetorical, my lord.

Perhaps I should commend the 55th Psalm to the owl.

Bloodthirsty men will not live half their days.

And those who live too long lose their grasp of the scriptures, my lord.

For does not the same psalm also say that God shall cast his enemies into the

pit of destruction?

I will not have God used as a weapon to score points.

Not in this council chamber or elsewhere.

When you are nearer the end of your life than the beginning, boldness loses

something of its appeal, my lord.

For you are engaged in a war of a different kind.

I don't want to die.

Your jest is in poor taste, ladies.

What

happened

has put a stem away from treason, my lord. You question both my authority and

my judgment.

I wrote it only so the people know the disaster this peace treaty with Spain

will bring us.

My foreign policy will not be dictated by public opinion, nor by such underhand

tactics. While we hesitate over Ireland, we give Tyrone and his rebels time to

amass yet more Spanish support.

We play into their hands.

I will not be goaded into war on the say-so of a hothead with delusions of

adequacy. I will not turn your back on me, sir!

I am not done with you yet!

Is it a hothead?

who has the people screaming my name from every rooftop.

They know that England's glory lies not in the relics of the past, but in a

vision of greatness which can again be ours.

Relics? You dare to utter such words to me? Dare is what soldiers do. It is what

defines us.

I will teach you manners yet!

No woman shall strike me thus, queen or knight!

Spare me!

Release me!

forgiveness all doors will be closed to him.

he must yield to her will.

apologize my lady. on his knees if she demands it.

a letter.

I have penned to her in his name.

I beg you make him see reason. put his seal on it. dispatch it.

end this wretched deadlock.

why is it he who must grovel in slavish apology?

no son of mine shall ever subscribe to such fawning hypocrisy.

He used to say you cannot catch a monkey by chasing it.

You must make the monkey come to you.

In sweetest sympathy.

Mother,

mother, do not fuss so.

We are not done yet.

You must appear weakened by illness and remorse. No tantrums or tirades. Did she

not send her physician to attend me?

Her actions speak louder than any words.

Well, this time watch your own words, son.

You lose her favor again, you will forever lose mine.

Your bet is as good as lost, sir. Admit defeat.

I am relieved to find you in such rude health, Your Majesty.

Yours is fully restored, it seems.

Thanks to your mercy and the skill of your physician.

Sir Walter and I are conducting a wager.

He claims he can calculate the weight of smoke.

A claim which I refute.

Put it to the test, sir.

And there you have it.

The weight of smoke.

Well done, sir.

I am an ignoble wretch and unworthy of your forgiveness.

So will not insult either of us by asking for it.

My greatest fear is your rashness will one day destroy you, Robbie.

Worse, I shall be the instrument of it.

Does not any son rail against the rule of his mother?

It does not lessen the bond they share.

A mother's love obeys only one rule.

That it is given without expectation of any in return.

Unconditional love is the greatest gift any woman can give a man.

On the Irish question, we have received fresh intelligence on the matter.

It seems your position on it holds merit after all.

Tyrone and his rebels are even now building up his garrisons in Ulster.

Forgive me.

I must speak.

Let it be me who quenches this fire for you.

For you have seen in me qualities no others have.

You alone can see beyond the trivial.

into a man's soul, I beg you, for your honor and for mine.

Let me beat Tyrone in the field and prove to the world Gloriana still

reigns.

I will reflect upon it, my lord.

Thank you.

The seizure rendered him without speech or movement on his left side.

Please God, he can still hear.

Timed again, I warned him that the burden of his duties was too much for

his years.

Nourishment and rest are what's needed now.

We'll have you restored to your old self and trice.

I understand it is your will that the Earl of Essex goes to Ireland, Your

Grace, to take on the rebel Tyrone.

He set sail with his army last night under the cover of darkness.

If victory is to be assured in battle, the element of surprise is a

prerequisite, Sir Robert.

Drake taught me that lesson.

Forgive the presumption, but he is no Francis Drake, Your Majesty.

Is it wise to take such a gamble on one so capricious, so headstrong?

Should Spain get dominance there, then your kingdom could be at risk. Do you

think my words are so impaired I cannot grasp the consequences?

Why must you all persist in always seeing the faults in him?

Recall him.

He will take you down with him.

And England with you.

Recall him.

He is tired.

He asks to rest.

The silence from Ireland is explained, Your Majesty.

The Earl of Essex has disobeyed your instructions. He has wantonly ignored

them. He did not go north to Ulster after Tyrone.

All this time he has been in the south, engaged in fruitless skirmishes against

the rebel outposts there.

of the 16,000 men under his command only 4,000 remain.

the others lost if not in battle then through disease or desertion. the waste

of it! the Earl is where now?

he tarries in Dublin claiming exhaustion and ill health.

he seeks your permission to return home.

my lord I forbid you to come out of that kingdom until Tyrone and his garrisons

are disposed of.

Why have you not prosecuted your campaign against him? You have had ample

time, men and ordinance to accomplish it.

You defy my authority with your futile adventure in the south which has

decimated my treasury and cost my kingdom dear in human life.

Discharge your duty against Tyrone my lord.

Do not let disgrace be your epitaph nor the ignominy of defeat be mine.

For be assured

I will not pay the price of that alone.

You were my alpha and my omega, my lord.

No prince ever had such a counselor.

Sir Francis Bacon, Your Majesty.

You asked him to attend you.

We have reason to be concerned about the Earl of Essex's actions, Sir Francis.

There's one close to him.

We hoped you might give us some insight.

Like you, Your Grace, I have always tried to be a moderating influence,

tried to stay his impulses, but all in vain, I'm afraid.

I fear he has a malady in his mind which has tainted him since birth.

Either he is tortured by melancholy and self-doubt or he acts with such reckless

hubris there is no restraining him.

At best the result is inconsistency at worst indecision.

Well he has made a decision now sir.

One he will live to regret.

He's agreed a truce with the rebel Tyrone.

Today we received notice he has deserted his post.

together with a legion of his officers.

he has offered them knighthoods to secure their loyalty.

given the extremities of his nature he is not just a danger to himself but to

others. your majesty he must be found and quickly.

his whereabouts are unknown to us sir.

as are his intentions.

You must leave now, sir, or we'll summon the guard.

Forgive my intrusion, your majesty.

I had to see you.

I could not wait.

My treaty with Tyrone is not the disgrace your council have you think.

They fight us like savages, coming at us through the mist like ghosts, deploying

tactics of ambush, of sabotage.

Where is the dishonor? in admitting defeat against such a foe is inevitable.

Is not Tyrone's threat neutralized by our treaty?

Is rebellion quelled, and bloodlessly, at no more cost to your revenue?

As ever, your words take the sting out of your actions, my lord.

You must be wearied after your journey.

Why not prepare to your home, refresh yourself?

When we are both more presentable...

We can discuss this matter at our leisure.

I see now.

This is where I belong.

I was a fool to stray so far from you.

She has dismissed him from the Privy Council, stripped him of his offices of

Earl Marshall, Master of the Ordnance, and now his patent on sweet wines is

revoked. She's bankrupted him.

I'm ruined, Mother.

She is as crooked as her wretched carcass!

conniving. And as for bacon, that turncoat shall pay for his

treachery.

But there'll be ample time for atonement, and you have squandered

enough of it in futile self-pity.

Cecil and the others, who've contrived your downfall, are looking to secure

their future beyond the Queen.

And you must do the same.

These hands hold the course of history, my son.

Such a moment comes to a man but once in a lifetime, if he has the courage.

Sir Gilly will take the palace here, the north gate.

Your contingent will enter from the river, Henry.

Mine will take the main gate.

The palace guard. Most will be marshaled to the Queen's apartment, council

chamber. They fight for coinage.

We for a cause. They will not detain us long.

But the Queen must not be harmed.

She must be confined to her quarters under guard for her own protection.

And her counsellors?

Handed up and executed.

He claims you are no longer competent to rule, Your Majesty.

He means to depose you, eliminate Sir Robert and your council, proclaim

himself Lord Protector, rule in your place.

He awaits reinforcements from the army.

Then he will raise the people and attack the palace.

His malice against your council is quite fixed, Your Majesty.

He accuses Sir Cecil of secretly plotting to divert the succession to

Spain. And you, sir, are contriving in murderous intrigues against him.

The man is delusional.

What meagre grasp of reality he had is lost to him. I fear the Earl of Essex

was always a lost cause in that regard, my lord.

He also revealed his malice to you in another regard, Your Majesty.

It seems he made reference to, and I quote...

Your wretched, crooked carcass.

It is true, Your Majesty.

We cannot rely on the fidelity of your people, Your Grace.

The hardships they have endured could turn their hunger into hate.

It is a breeding ground for revolution.

Sir Walter, you and Sir Francis will lead a delegation of my counsellors to

him. Give him no arena for his heroics.

Tell him the hearing he demands has been granted.

I require him to attend me.

rare commodity in such troubled times, is it not?

The queen awaits your attendance, sir.

We come to take you to her. Then I must make myself presentable for such an

honor.

The rear of the house is safer, my lords.

Sir Francis is familiar with the way.

I will detain you only a moment, my lords.

We are not yet prepared.

We need reinforcements. People will rise behind us.

They will not fail us.

Others gather at Ludgate, and yet more in Newgate.

Dispatch a contingent of my militia north, here, to block their escape.

Another, thus, to divide their ranks.

are closing their doors to them, Your Majesty.

They are still loyal to you.

Remove the surprise from your voice, Sir Charles.

I, for one, never doubted it.

Mother? Mother?

Your Grace?

The Earl has surrendered, Your Majesty.

The rest are scattered or arrested.

Over a hundred are confined with him at the Tower.

We must make preparations for his trial, Your Grace, and speedily, before his

supporters can regroup.

And I hold my arm to that.

I am ready.

Goodbye. Let me pass.

Do not mourn my death,

for I welcome it.

I see now only God can give me the peace I have been denied on earth.

God save the Queen.

God save us all.

He is gone, your grace.

Since the execution of the Earl of Essex, the Queen's spirit is quite

broken.

She is ever more melancholy, ever more forgetful, her temper more capricious.

She leaves her quarters now only for duty, the recitals and plays she once

relished. Her horse riding.

None can tempt her out.

She is beset by fears of assassination, stalking the palace at night, striking

at unseen enemies.

Then for a brief moment...

Her old spirit was restored to us.

She was Gloriana once more.

To be a king and wear a crown is a thing

more glorious to them who see it than pleasant to them who bear it.

For myself, I was never so much enticed by it as...

humbled that God chose me as his instrument to defend my kingdom

from peril, dishonor, tyranny and oppression.

There will never be a queen with more zeal and devotion for her country and

her subjects.

But it is my desire now to reign no longer

Done for your good.

Then the flame was extinguished.

She began to slip away from us.

Too weak to walk, she has spent the past 15 hours standing in her chamber,

refusing to sit, lest she should never rise again.

After over 40 years as sovereign, she quietly departed this life.

As for the succession,

she neither denied nor confirmed you.

But you can be assured of my fidelity in that respect.

Your Majesty.

For King James's hand alone, no other.

Wait outside.

A clasp has

been added.

She has hidden a portrait inside.

Robert Dudley.

It is Anne Boleyn.

Her mother.

Thank you.