Original subtitles

Created by GeoffS

I was starting to think

that your absence was from sulking, Robbie.

And what, and miss such a performance?

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

Oh, hush will you.

Kill him!

A Jesuit missionary, found spreading subversive propaganda.

Whatever the crime, grisly fate for any man.

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

Is this choice of being here too remind me

where my loyalties lie?

A lesser 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 Burghley.

The gentleman I spoke of, Master Gifford

We also know... another attempt to rescue her, has been devised.

It's details...we lack

The Catholic's League in Europe is behind this one.

Once our freedom is secured,

King Philip has pledged Spain's support to a...

To assassinate Queen Elizabeth as a prelude to invasion.

And your role in this enterprise?

To act as... an intermediary,

to find a means of communication with the Scottish Queen,

Seek her approval.

But...

your zeal of her security

has put play to her... her contact with foreign powers.

If we were to be....less zealous,

allowing your access to her.

There was a man... who worked as her page when first she knew him.

She sought sanctuary in England.

He volunteered to orchestrate her rescue.

His name?

Anthony Babington.

As the noxious humor is released,

The diseased area is purified.

Your pain will ease. * Theory of the 4 Moods-Medic. medieval*

What humor is out of balance?

The fourth...

His earth melancholy, my lord.

See how dark his blood is?

That signifies bile which...

Oh, yes, yes, uh... carry on, do.

As for trying to keep his visit a secret

by hiding him behind that screen...

They say every tavern in London laying bets

on when his betrothal will be announced.

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

Such a man will never capture her hand,

much less her heart.

Oh, she seems most taken with him.

And last night, later.

When you were, um... indisposed?

It has transpired to everyone, she was captivated by him.

He talked of nothing but his wit, his intellect.

"My Prince Frog" she calls him,

and his emissary, Simier, she calls her monkey.

Though 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..gritless to fall for it.

The wonder is, she has not yet guessed your own situation.

Throughout the world, you know

how she feel about such a subterfuge

and the depth of her rage should she discover it.

Let us hope your noxious humor

will soon be cured, My Lord,

For all our sakes.

Sir Francis Drake began his passage here.

From Plymouth he sailed south...southward

And it was here that Sir Francis faced his first challenge,

the mutiny of his crew.

But instead of punishing them, he offered them their release.

Not a single man on his side. Not one.

More pity for Spain and the treasures you stole

from their colonies, My Lord.

Sir Francis is known for his entrepreneurial spirit.

And at such a distance, what could a poor queen do?

A mouse!

For the love of God!

Do not stay there!

Kill him!

For the queen, kill the beast!

Kill him!

Um...Babington letter to the, um, queen of Scotland.

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

How long to decrypt the code?

As long as it takes, sir, as always.

Do not fail me, Master Gifford.

I can not concentrate while being watched, sir.

Privacy, please.

Good morning sir.

Go..go!

Ahhhhh....Do something, you dolt heads!

Kill him.

Kill him, I said!

Marriage to Anjou is the only option.

How else do 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 paid to the vile rumors

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 subsume 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 is waiting for your response to ratify it.

"Any claimant or his associates

conspiring to seize the throne

shall forfeit all right of succession. "

And their lives.

We all witnessed your distress

over the signing of the 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 allowing us...

I'm not so obtuse I cannot

grasp the implications, 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 for making them Catholic once more

would engulf your people in a civil war more catastrophic

that anything your sister ever inflicted on us.

The physician awaits, Your Majesty.

Amend it.

The claimant must have knowledge

of any conspiracy on their behalf.

Proven knowledge, Sir Francis.

My signature contingent on that.

As you know, Your Grace,

The 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, sir.

Get it over with!

I find nothing which prevents Her Majesty

from bearing a child.

A sublimation code, see?

Every letter of the alphabet is replaced by another.

These..uh.. coded symbols.

They indicate the key words.

Some letters appear with more frequency.

The letter E, for example...

But the content, sir!

Does Babington lay out the details of their conspiracy?

If it sufficient?

"Proven knowledge" is what Her Majesty demanded.

For that we need the Queen of Scots response.

All shall come to ye who waits, Master Phelippes.

Excuse me, sir.

Come come!

Come!

The Earl of Leicester,

they are close, are they not?

How close?

Tell me.

That, is the Queen's private business, Sir.

We are not permitted to discuss such things

out of the bedchamber.

Then let us find the bedchamber then, eh?

I can tell you something

but I can't tell you here.

I see, eh.

The Earl of Leicester

has been so much a loyal friend, sir!

It's a sorry day when I listen

to poisoned mouths of others!

That you choose to indulge

gives you no credit credit, monsieur.

Your Majesty, he is not worth your loyalty.

He has betrayed you!

He has betrayed you.

May God strike me down if I tell a lie!

Who else knows?

Why was I not told?

Your audience with the queen

is delayed, my lady.

You dumb faced tone of a scallion...!

A lying, cheating naive!

A mangled heart is the sign of a mongrel traitor!

My fault was ever to place my trust in you!

And if your slyness, your treachery was not enough,

you dare to deny me the chance of my own marriage,

While seizing it yourself with that shame of...!

that vixen!

I don't offer you the chance marriage a dozen times,

and a dozen times you refused me!

And thank God for my wit that I did for my

masterful 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 would be together.

I have stood by and watched

while others fall 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 Devereux's name ..

he too is called Robert, is it not?

Does he have dark eyes, like you?

Such a rank insinuation is unworthy of you, Bess.

The bond we shared was like no other, Robbie.

You have defied it.

So what's it to be

banishment again, Bess?

Another... mission abroad?

Henceforth, if I see you, I shall not know you.

You are dead to me.

Look on her well, Lettice,

for there true loyalty lies,

It is a pity

you did not learn from Kat's example, is it not?

I am heart broke,

Your Majesty, that.. we have so incurred your displeasure.

and as we can not always choose where loves arrows falls.

Such sentimental claptrap finds no favor with me, madam.

Get up!

Imported silk?

From France.

The color is too vulgar for my taste.

Gold?

I'm been told you also run a lavish household.

A retinue of staff, distinct soirees, hunting parties...

for all the world, the queen holding court.

I must occupy myself some how,

whilst my husband tends you,

Your Grace.

Then I have some cheerful news for you.

His attentions on me is no longer required.

All gifts, gratuities and monopolies,

shall cease..forthwith,

along with his salary.

You must to live within your means, Lettice.

Cut your cloth.

Though I doubt it would 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 screaming from the rack,

the stench of death in our nostrils?

Come into my presence again,

and I fetch you back!

Go!

Go!

trounced again!

How does she do it?

They say that chess is the gymnasium of the mind, My Lord.

Such a mind.

Such a body.

You are indeed heaven sent.

"My Lord Leicester has taken ill, Your Grace.

He hope that you might attend to him.

How many times has he fallen ill just to get my attention?

How many times have I run to him?

I'm am done with this trickery.

Tell him to pack his bags, be gone!

Bess.

Thank God.

What, no fever?

Is that beyond your contrivance?

Your melodramas are always entertaining, My Lord,

they light even the dullest day.

I know that companionship with the flesh....

is a poor substitute for what we both share, Bess.

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 settled into a loveless marriage.

My heart lies elsewhere, and we both know it.

Now tell me...

is it truly your world to

wed your frog prince, Bess?

Hmm?

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

I will whom I shan't love.

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.

Yes!

Your Majesty!

By one John Stubbs of Norfolk. "The discovery of a vacant gulf

where as England is likely to be swallowed by a French marriage.

"Let all true subjects know

that the queen is being led like a lamb to the slaughter... "

"... in this disastrous union with the Duke of Anjou.

"How can His Majesty surrender her virginity to a foreigner...

and 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 sentries

in your quarters.

Outside the palace,

an armed guard must accompany you all the time.

And let my people think

I've succumbed to this malicious spleen?

All copies of this profanity must be confiscated.

I want this man Stubbs apprehended and 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 do you focus your opinion now on this matter?

This decision is too weighted to take alone, My Lords.

I must have your council on how I am to proceed.

Advise me!

I can not wait for that day, Your Majesty!

I will live for it!

Let the jewels on my dress

be like a thousand eyes,

so that my subjects know, however distant,

I am always watching out for them.

And let there be no shadows on my face or my neck,

for they accentuate age.

Immortal is the look we're after, sir, and virginal.

Divinity, if you can so render it.

My hair should be loose.

Oh, and make much of my hands!

Emphasize your slenderness,

Because I have been told that they are my best feature.

Henceforth, when my people think of their queen,

this is the image they must see.

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 his sister,

she wrote begging her for mercy.

In order...that no incriminating postscripts

could be later be added, she drew lines like thus.

Pity her cousin lacked such forethought.

Take this down.

"I would be be glad to know..."

Is this to be in...in her coded letter?

Both the coded letter and the transcription, Master Phelippes.

"I would be glad to know the names of the 6 gentlemen

who are going to accomplish the dispatch of the impostor queen.

With such knowledge, I may advise them

on how best to achieve their mission.

As you see, her postscript is

in response to the Babington's letter.

I took the precaution yesterday to order a search

in his quarters in Derbyshire.

Texts on encrypted 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 should be rounded up,

brought to trial.

And the Queen of Scot!

If my cousin confesses her guilt,

And vows to put an end to her wretched plotting,

she will yet be pardoned.

The new Association Statute dictates,

as claimant and chief conspirator,

she, too, must be brought to trial.

Your Majesty, that is law now.

How pressing you were on that legislation,

Sir Francis.

I see now that I underestimated you in that regard.

I will not make the same mistake again.

My Lords, you shall attend to the proceedings on my behalf.

Remember the eyes of the world herald

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 treason’s have been proved against Babington,

and your fellow conspirators,

have been punished for their actions.

Ii is my command that you answer the peers of my kingdom,

as if I myself, were present.

Act honestly, cousin, and you might yet attain my favor. "

30 noblemen commissioned as judges, arranged thus.

Come on.

Put it there,

To indicate the presence of the queen, in her absence.

And the Queen of Scot's?

If... if we place her adjacent, that makes her an equal.

She goes there, where we can read her face.

No, could you...?

Get this damn dog out of here!

We need chairs here and here.

"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 fraudulent.

I know nothing of this man Babington,

nor ever exchanged letters with him.

I declare I would rather shipwreck my soul

than secure death."

He is tireless in her wretched protestations of innocence.

I fear she is intent on

treating the trial as a theater,

where she plays the innocent martyr,

unjustly accused by her heretic sister queen,

thus hoping to inspire her Catholic supporters

to rise against you... so destroy you after all.

Your commissioners have...

reached a verdict, Your Majesty.

The Queen of Scotland is guilty of the charge of treason,

and to conspiring in your association.

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

Death!

We two were ........... upon our arms,

and this matter was just between us.

Even knowing that she has sought my death,

I would never consent to hers.

But as I carry the burden of my nation's welfare,

I must demand his blood.

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

Anything less than her death will reek of nepotism.

Or worse... a vengeful queen expunging her rival heir.

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

to make good their threat.... send their Armada against us!

Be warned, cousin.

One day, you will be held to

accounts for your unjust treatment of me,

For my blood and misery I have endured at your hands,

will be remembered by every Catholic of your kingdom,

and in Europe.

They will cross the water and avenge my death.

The blood in your hands will stain your kingdom,

for centuries to come.

Why can not some other method be found..

Poison?

Do you think if your hand is unseen,

God... will be lenient on you?

My enemies might.

Spain, to name but one.

You make such play to this queen who she and you are alike.

Is it not in how you discharge

that duty where...the difference lies?

She has always let her heart to rule her head,

Put passion before politic need.

If you shrink before this duty now, Bess,

then indeed you risk the accusation that you are alike.

As a woman, you are just not equal to the task.

She will sign the death warrant.

Oh God in heaven, forgive me!

What have I done?

He was bound for France to collect salt,

and there was the Spanish fleet.

130 galleons, I counted.

Like a vast floating city, they were, in half moon formation,

stretched near ten miles across.

The masts and prows are of such height, Your Majesty,

such might it seems they wiped out the very sky,

the ocean groaning under their weight.

The beacons are lit.

They are sighted off the Cornish coast.

Heading which way?

Northeast, if my intelligence is sound,

to anchor off Calais,

to wait for the second fleet to embark from

Flanders here, and join them.

Then it begins.

Their soldiers are professionals,

expertly trained.

If they get to the channel,

they will sweep through Kent,

crush London within a week.

Not any of the Spaniards will get through, sir,

not while I have breath!

What word from Plymouth?

Drake and the Western Squadron,

left under the cover of darkness.

and he means to get behind the Spanish fleet,

and attack from the rear.

Let us pray to God that the tides stay with them.

News, My Lords!

I lack news!

Is Isle of Wight secure?

Not barely, Your Grace.

Two galleons are lost to them.

Only two?

Then it is stalemated.

Drake's Squadron

Is even now pursuing them towards the Straits of Dover.

Without sufficient ammunition for his cannons,

Is all they can do.

And the fleet of Flanders?

Hold up by storms, My Lady.

Let us that it will be a

Protestant wind, My Lords, that keeps blowing for us.

More papal propaganda the Spaniards carry is of no interest.

"Incestuous bastard of the 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're English before they are Catholics.

Oh God! It's Queen Bess!

My God! She's the Queen!

The Queen!

May God save the Queen!

God is with us, Your Majesty!

A statement from Cardinal Don Pedro,

captured by Drake in Rosario.

"Upon our glorious assault on England,

all heretics will be whipped by chains until dead.

"Protestant children under 7 to follow their fathers;

the rest,

branded on the forehead with the letter L of Lutherans. "

How very original.

When this is over, you'll go to Buxton, Robbie.

Take the water.

Or I shall brand you myself!

The L shall not be for Lutheran,

But lunkhead!

The second fleet is set to embark from Flanders.

Then 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 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,

they thought they still detected some movement in her.

It was just his horrible dog, sheltering beneath her skirts.

I'm not yet her final epitaph.

When the executioner lifted up her severed head,

it fell from his hand.

He was left only holding her wig.

There'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 good will of my subjects

so I come amongst you at this time....."

"I come amongst you at this time, not for recreation,

but being resolved that amidst in heat of battle

to live or die among you all.

To lay down my for my God, and 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 score 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 reward will be

your virtues in the fields.

We know that you already deserve rewards and grants,

and we do assure you, in the word of prince,

they shall be paid to you.

And take heed to, of my lieutenant general,

for no prince ever commanded

a more worthy or noble subject is he.

By your obedience to him, for your valor in battle,

We shall yet win a famous victory

over those enemies of God...

For my kingdom and of my people!

"Night of the 28th of July, 2 miles southeast of Calais...

Reinforced by Seymour and Winters... "

They are celebrating.

The news should be...

Yes Yes!

Read! Read!

"Drake released eight fire ships

among the anchored the Spanish galleons,

to dislodge their formation.

believing the ships were primed with gunpowder,

the Spaniards cut their anchors..... "

and fled in utmost confusion.

The running battle was there after maintained near Gravelines.

So close were we to the enemy,

we were within speak one another.

Then the wind shifted,

what remained of the Amada was swept by storms and gales

to flounder 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're saved, Robbie!

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

God bless you all!

this is not just a Protestant victory,

but England's victory!

This is all our victory!

We are safe, Excellency!

Victory, My Lords, Victory!

My lord, we must make the preparations.

For our celebration.

I will issue the proclamation

for a day of holiday throughout the realm.

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...

So solemn on such a day, William?

Shame on you!

I must speak to you alone, Your Grace.

As you know, after Tilbury, the Earl of Leicester

Was going to journey to Buxton to take the waters.

On 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 when...?

Oh.

Oh, my heart is wrenched from me!

There was a letter for you by his side.

Oh, God, not this.

Anything but this.

Your Majesty?

News from Ireland.

The wrecks of yet more of the Spanish fleet

are washed up on their shores.

They say that the coast is

littered with their corpses!

The Pope himself acknowledges

Your supremacy, Your Grace.

He said only a woman, Mistress of one half of a small island,

yet you have made yourself feared by Spain,

by France and through all of Europe!

Majesty, enough now!

Throughout the realm your people call your triumph

the greatest victory since Agincourt,

and can not celebrate it without you.

My Lord Leicester 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.

That young man yonder....

Do I know him?

Robert Devereux, Your Grace.

The second Earl of Essex.

My Lord Leicester's stepson, Majesty.

Do you not remember?

I recall, My Lord,

when you were introduced to me as a child, you shrank from me.

So afraid were you I might deigned to kiss you.

I am a grown man now, Your Majesty...

and know better.

His son in all but the name.