Original subtitles

Monsieur!

I want manger, j'ai faim.

J'ai faim.

S'il vous plaît, monsieur.

Merde!

(Growls)

En avant, mes amis!

Forward! Go!

(Shouting and gunfire)

(Screams)

Look in the church!

You!

- What the bally hell are you doing here? - Escort for Lady Farthingdale, sir.

Who's Lady Farthingdale, you friggin' fop?

I must protest, sir.

And, please, call these ruffians out of the church.

Shoot him, Smithers.

(Woman screams)

Lady Farthingdale, sir.

Worth a bit of money I don't wonder.

Lord Farthingdale's a lucky bastard, eh, Marshal, mon ami?

Maybe. But that cape of hers is like an over-rich sauce,

which conceals the true taste of the dish.

Strip her, Kelly.

I'll do it myself.

HAKESWILL: Oh...

What is your husband's full name, madame?

Sir Augustus Farthingdale.

Is he a general?

He's a colonel, like you.

Watch your lip, my lady.

If indeed you are a lady.

Look more like Portuguee to me.

Here's my wedding ring.

It has our initials engraved. Here's your proof.

How long have you been married, then?

Six months.

Oh, so the shine's still on it, eh?

What brings you up here to this church?

The statue of Our Holy Mother in this church is said to have special powers. I erm...

I came to pray for a child.

Ooh.

Lord Farthingdale still firing blanks, eh?

Never you mind, missy. I'll give you a full-blown belly by sundown.

Madame, is your husband rich?

Very.

Well, think how much he'll give us to get her back.

- A lot. - See?

And how much if your belly is full by my friend Hakeswill here?

Nothing.

So you must leave her alone,

and our friend who we found yesterday, until we have the gold.

You must find another chicken for your pot.

This one's mine.

- Send her to the inn. - Is this how the English treat their allies?

We follow no flag, missy.

English, Frog, Portuguee...

We fight for ourselves now.

Madame...

you will dine with me tonight.

- I am cooking poulet... - (Women scream nearby)

..with oil and garlic and some fine red wine.

Good morning, sir.

I have a ransom note, Nairn.

They want me to send Sharpe with the gold.

- Why do the scum want me to send Sharpe? - Damned if I know, sir.

You'll be damned if you don't find out, Nairn!

Damn it, Nairn, why do we have you as head of confidential agents

if you don't know why they want Sharpe?

That's only one of two things I don't understand, sir.

The other is why you're taking so much trouble over Sir Augustus Farthingdale,

a fop fresh out of England,

seeking glory in Spain with the help of a few hacks at Horse Guards.

At least you seem to know something about Sir Augustus.

Six weeks here and the silly old sod

lets his young wife go gallivanting up north to some village

and far too close to the frontier for comfort.

Now a gang of deserters have grabbed her and promised to diddle her to death

unless he gives them a ransom of gold.

He's got the guineas.

He's a rich man, sir. Let him go himself.

This letter is fresh from London, Nairn.

It seems Sir Augustus has been appointed

His Majesty's special military envoy to the government of Portugal.

Our allies, Nairn.

Anything we want, we have to ask Sir Augustus.

Oh, God.

Sir Augustus will be here within the hour.

He'll want to know how I propose to get his wife back in his bed.

Hear me, Nairn?

Oh, I hear you, sir.

Then hear me well, Nairn.

I expect the Frogs to attack any day.

I need the Portuguese to rally round.

I need every friend I can muster at the court in Lisbon.

Sir Augustus Farthingdale is the one man who can help or hinder me.

I think Sir Augustus will hound me hard to get his wife back.

So, I shall hound you hard.

And you, Nairn?

I shall hound Captain Sharpe, sir.

(Shouting)

RAMONA: Bravo, Harper!

Behind you! Behind you!

Yes!

Yaargh!

Give us the ball or we'll kick the Jesus daylights out of you.

- Get up! - Dime, está bien?

Ah, Ramona.

My old friend.

(Men squabble)

(Pistol shot)

You there! Sergeant.

The Colonel.

Oh, my God.

Stand up, fellow.

You stay down, sir. Stay down.

Coming, Colonel.

Coming, sir.

(Panting)

Here I am. How are you doing, sir?

Name? Rank?

Sergeant Patrick Harper, sir.

95th Rifles.

I heard you swearing, Sergeant Harper.

How dare you swear in front of an officer!

By Jeez, I'm very, very sorry, sir. Must just have sort of slipped out, so it did.

Who are these scruffy savages?

They are Chosen Men, sir. Picked out for their special skills.

That's why they wear the white cords of courage, sir.

Yes, but not for much longer, they won't.

Nor will you have these stripes, Sergeant Harper.

As soon as I see Lord Wellington, I'm going to have all ofyou

put on a charge for disorderly conduct.

Beg your pardon, sir.

These men were acting under my orders... sir.

Your orders, sir?

And who are you to give orders?

I'm an officer... sir.

You are an officer, sir?

Yes, sir.

Captain Sharpe, 95th Rifles...

..sir.

Sharpe.

Sharpe. Yes, I heard something about you in Lisbon.

Are you the fellow that Wellington raised from the ranks, Sharpe?

Yes, sir.

Well, I always thought it was a bad idea and now I've got proof of it.

When I see Lord Wellington,

I'm going to speak to him about your conduct, Sharpe.

Is that you, Sir Augustus?

Major Nairn. Lord Wellington's staff, sir.

I take it you are Sir Augustus Farthingdale.

I am he, Nairn.

I should like to complain about the conduct of one of your officers.

Lord Wellington is waiting for you, sir.

He's most anxious to allay your anxiety about that matter you alluded to in your note, sir.

Well, I should like to bathe and change first. Where is my tent, Nairn?

Last but one on the right, sir.

I have water on the boil for you.

See that colonel, Sharpe?

That colonel came here to make you a major. Would you believe that?

No, sir.

- Right hand up to God, Sharpe. - That's your left hand, sir.

I swear to God, Sharpe.

You mean I missed being made major?

Maybe not. Report to Wellington's tent at seven.

Why? What shall I say when that colonel goes on about my behaviour, sir?

Act like a man, Sharpe.

Crawl, eat humble pie, beg.

But don't worry about that for now.

You have to worry about how to get those horses from the Rocket Troop.

Well, maybe I'll get lucky, sir.

Maybe one of those rockets will blow me to kingdom come.

That's the spirit, Sharpe.

(Explosions)

Very consistent, Lieutenant.

Ten salvos and you've missed every time.

Let's have those horses, Harper.

Please, sir...

One last salvo?

Tell you the truth, Lieutenant.

I'm dirty, deaf and damned if I want to see another rocket.

Very well. One last salvo.

But if you miss we'll have your horses.

- Come on, Pat. - Sir!

Where are you going, sir?

Where I can get a bit of peace... The barn.

Rocket Troop, reload.

Right,

show the flag, Pat.

This sergeant I met at Badajoz, Billy Smith...

..he used to be based at Shorncliff Camp

where they made these Congreve rockets.

(Rockets fire)

And?

- Well... (Rockets approach)

..he said they're grand going away from you...

- But they're right devils coming at you. (Rockets whistle closer)

(Explosion)

- Buenos días, boys. - Buenos días, Miss Teresa.

- Where's Richard? - In the barn, miss.

Rocket Troop,

prepare to fire.

Teresa, come back!

Light fuses.

Stand aside.

Teresa!

(Explosion)

(Horse approaches)

Hello, Miss Teresa.

Goodbye, Miss Teresa.

Tell Gilliand...he's got a reprieve on the rockets.

And he can keep his horses.

Sir.

I missed you.

How's our daughter?

How's Antonia?

Free spirit.

Like her mother.

What do you notice first about her?

Her eyes. She sees everything.

She'll be sharpshooter...like you.

Really, my lord, this fellow Sharpe is almost five minutes late.

Not to mention his bad manners this morning. I really must insist that you speak to him.

What? Oh, I beg your pardon, Colonel.

Nairn and I were engrossed in your book.

Practical Instructions To The Young Officer In The Art OfWarfare,

With Special Reference To The Engagements Proceeding In Spain.

My congratulations, Colonel.

Given that you wrote this work before your arrival in Spain, it shows remarkable confidence.

NAIRN: Absolutely.

Amazing, Sir Augustus.

Yes, well, I very much appreciate your kind words, my lord.

(Distant bugle)

But my wife...weighs heavily on my mind, sir.

- (Clears throat) My lord. - Buenas tardes, my lord.

Good day, madam.

This is Colonel Sir Augustus Farthingdale, His Majesty's military representative in Lisbon.

Colonel, Comandante Moreno, commander of the Spanish guerrillas across the border.

She is to take part in the operation we propose. And Captain Sharpe of the 95th.

Your servant, ma'am.

Captain Sharpe and I have met. You're late, sir.

And I cannot abide unpunctuality.

I'm sorry I'm late, my lord. The inspection of the rocket battery ran to a full hour, sir.

I am not happy you did not get me my horses, Sharpe.

Do you think there may be something in these rockets, Sharpe?

Not as to accuracy, sir.

But they play merry hell with the morale of poorly-led men, sir.

- The sound is shocking. - Scared you, did they?

I was terrified, sir.

Do you... Do you think Captain Sharpe's the right man to send with the ransom, sir?

Won't cut and run if somebody lets off a gun, will he?

Who is this fool?

I have not come here, my lord, to listen to Captain Sharpe explaining about his rockets.

What about my wife, sir?

You have the ransom?

500 golden guineas.

Good. The deserters have demanded the gold be delivered by Captain Sharpe.

Oh, I wonder why, sir.

It's probably because he knew one of the ruffians when he was a private soldier.

That's what comes of raising from the ranks.

Personally, my lord, I don't hold with it.

My lord, if I may speak,

Sir Augustus is probably correct in speculating that

whoever asked for me served under me in the ranks.

I was a sergeant and a stickler for duty.

So it's fair to assume that whoever it is wants to settle a score...and slit my throat.

But if Sir Augustus does not trust me,

then I am more than willing to step down and let him take the gold himself, sir.

Well, I am willing to accept Captain Sharpe as a messenger,

if you are, my lord.

Let's have it, Nairn.

We're here.

Adrados is here...

three days' march across rough country.

The Spanish call it The Gateway of God

because it controls a pass between Portugal and Spain.

We can send an escort with the gold as far as the river.

A black flag flying from a tree means the escort must stop there.

Sharpe and one other man will go on with the gold...

..carrying personal arms only, Sharpe.

Any tricks... and they promise...

..to slit Lady Farthingdale's throat, sir.

Among other things. Erm, that's it, my lord.

What do you say, Sharpe?

We leave at dawn, sir.

That seems satisfactory. Colonel?

Well, naturally, I had hoped to go myself.

No, SirAugustus, these dogs will make you a hostage and raise the ransom.

That being so, I have certain concerns...

as to the correct conduct of Captain Sharpe and his men.

My wife is a lady.

I must ask you to impress on Captain Sharpe

the need to observe proper standards,

which are not necessarily his by birth.

How dare he speak of Captain Sharpe in such a fashion, my lord.

We Morenos are of the blood.

We know who is a man of manners and who is a man of the mouth.

And you, Sir Augustus, are a man of the mouth.

Take my advice and shut it before somebody shuts it for you!

How dare you, madam!

Sir Augustus has a point, Sharpe.

You and your men can be a bit rough and ready.

Sir Augustus wrote a book about the proper conduct ofthe Spanish campaign.

I suggest you study it tonight, Sharpe. Full of good things.

Listen.

The men, during the march, shall keep their files.

No indecent language or noise to be allowed.

Be sure to read that particular part to the Chosen Men after prayers tonight, Sharpe.

Wild horses wouldn't stop me, sir.

Don't talk about horses, Sharpe.

Dismiss.

If you were a man, I would call you out,

force you to fight a duel...and kill you.

Close thing, that, sir.

They call her the Needle.

Don't ask me why.

Am I in danger?

Escort Colonel Farthingdale to his quarters. Good day, sir.

Sharpe kept his head.

Wants to make major, sir.

Any chance they'll hand her over?

None.

Once they've got the gold, they'll hump her to death and damn all we can do about it.

It's Sharpe I feel sorry for, sir.

Keep your eye on it.

Ooh, where's it gone? Hang on a minute, I can see it.

Here it is.

Go on.

♪ And the bird it did fly in

♪ And the bird it did fly out

♪ Just above her lily-white feet...

(Chatter in Spanish)

(Tuts) No, Harper.

No.

♪ For we've tarried here all day

♪ To drink down the sun

♪ Let us tarry here and drink down the moon

Drink up.

ALL: Short barrels!

The bloody fighting 95th!

First in the field and the last out of it.

Listen to this, lads.

"Soldiers should not form liaisons with local women in a warm climate."

(Laughter)

Heard you gave Ramona a fat belly, Harper.

Well done.

TERESA: That was a secret!

Thanks.

Feels kind of funny being a father.

Feels fine to me.

I'm not much of a father.

Anyway, don't call it after me.

No. I won't.

Have a gawk at Sir Fart-ingdale's tent, sir.

Farthingdale, Harper.

Yeah, well, whatever.

He's spreading money like snuff at a wake to dig up the dirt about you, sir.

He even had a word with me about you and Teresa, so he did.

And what did you tell him, Harper?

I told him you were stone mad about Miss Teresa, so I did.

He seemed very happy to hear that

and he rewarded me with a silver shilling.

Good.

Well, give it to Ramona. I'd say she's earned it.

First your fat belly, then her own.

Good night.

Good night, sir.

Good night, Miss Teresa.

Good night.

HARPER: Hey, you men...

Would it be too much trouble to ask you to move your big fat arses out of the way,

and give Mr Sharpe a bit of privacy?

I'll trade you a Voltaire and a filthy book by the Marquis de Sade for your Sir Augustus, sir.

Done, Harris.

Hey, bring it back.

Of course, sir.

Good night, sir.

- Good night, Harris. - Good night.

(Hagman sings)

Christmas in two weeks.

Too cold to take it off, I think.

Take it off in bed, eh?

I hate that fellow Farthingdale.

Oh, he misses his wife, that's all.

I feel the same way about you sometimes, when you go off.

I feel that way about little Antonia now.

I miss her.

She must be very beautiful, his wife.

Beautiful?

How do you know?

Well, because...

because he was happy you were mad about me.

He's afraid you would fall in love with his wife.

You've a mind like a rocket, Teresa.

Too fast for me.

I never know where you'll land.

But is it true that you are mad about me?

No, Harper's a bit hard of hearing.

I said I was mad at you.

No wonder Harper was so happy.

Because he will get a child?

No.

Because he got a shilling.

You're impossible.

(Shouting)

What is it, Isabella?

Best not to look.

(Shouting and laughter)

Don't worry.

I'm married to a French colonel.

We fell in love before this war began.

He's a brave man. He'll come soon. I know he will.

I'm married to an English colonel.

A coward.

And he won't come at all.

(Bugle call)

Rifles...

Rescue my wife and you'll get a guinea apiece.

Any complaints about your conduct and you'll get the gallows.

Mind your manners when you see my wife, sir.

Oh, yes, sir.

Carry on, Captain Sharpe.

Do you feel sorry for him still?

Let's go, Harper.

Rifles!

Trail arms!

Right face.

Quick march!

Eyes right!

HAGMAN: ♪ Farewell and adieu

♪ To you Spanish ladies

(Others join in) ♪ Farewell and adieu

♪ To you ladies of Spain

♪ For we've received orders

♪ To sail home to England

♪ But I know in some time

♪ We'll return once again

HAGMAN: ♪ And here's a good health

♪ To the 95th Rifles

♪ The first in the field

♪ And the last from the fray

♪ When Bonaparte's armies

♪ Are banished and beaten

♪ They'll talk ofthe 95th winning the day

Perkins.

Stand down, Kelly.

Welcome to my parlour, Sharpey!

♪ Slow tune

"..should be carried..." Thanks, Francis.

"..should be carried in the left arm as a rifleman would..."

No wonder Harris reads Voltaire.

Listen.

Dieu n'est pas pour les gros bataillons,

mais pour ceux...

ceux qui tirent le mieux.

God is not on the side ofthe big battalions

but of the best shots.

Not bad for a Frog, eh?

Do you think these deserters will hand over Lady Farthingdale to you tomorrow, Richard?

Course they will.

Soon as they get their gold.

You are a bad liar, Richard.

So I'll always be faithful.

If not, you'll easily find out.

HAGMAN: ♪ I may travel far from Spain

♪ Part of me shall still remain

♪ You are with me night and day

♪ Over the hills

♪ And far away

♪ O'er the hills and o'er the main

♪ Through Flanders, Portugal and Spain

♪ King George commands

♪ And we obey

♪ Over the hills and far away

SHARPE: Do you see what I see?

You know, sometimes I wish I was blind.

Looks like a bloody army to me.

Not just that.

Look at the uniforms.

HARPER: Good God, there's French with them.

SHARPE: Spanish and Portuguese, too.

News of this gets out,

we can kiss goodbye to discipline back home.

(Goats bleat)

(Dog whines)

Want to see a bit of fun, ladies?

Get down.

Yah!

I hope he doesn't kill Sharpey.

Why?

I want to kill him myself.

I'm afraid you will have to wait, my friend,

until we have all the gold we can get.

Right.

Argh!

Come on, Sharpey.

- You know that officer? - No. Nor he me.

But I stood beside him for a few seconds in the Battle of Talavera

when he took an eagle off the Frogs.

Not that he'll remember.

Officers don't see other ranks.

Wait. Parlez-vous anglais?

Oui, je parle anglais. Don't you want your gold, deserter?

Deserter? You call me a deserter?

What else would I call a dog like you?

Die, damn deserter.

Kill the Frog bastard, sir.

(Whispers) Michel...

Truce.

On your honour.

My honour, monsieur.

My name is Captain Richard Sharpe.

95th regiment in the army of Wellington.

You're not a deserter?

We're here on the same mission, monsieur.

This was their idea of a joke.

To make us fight each other.

They're probably watching us from somewhere up there.

(Groaning)

Harper! Leave him.

Jean!

Game's over. You want your gold?

Bring the ladies.

I'm Chef de Bataillon Michel Dubreton.

Colonel, eh? You speak good English.

My wife is English.

You have a hostage here?

My wife.

Do they know you're her husband?

No.

HAKESWILL: So glad you could make it, Sharpey.

How's your back, laddie?

DUBRETON: Who is he?

His name is Hakeswill.

Obadiah Hakeswill.

Had me flogged once. Had Sergeant Harper flogged.

Not so long ago, tried to rape my wife.

I swore I'd kill him.

How's your Spanish whore, Sharpey?

Shoot and your marshal dies.

No! No!

Mes amis...

Let him go.

I said, let him go!

My friends...

Let us not fight.

Let us eat.

Bien?

Par ici.

C'est bon, c'est très bon.

DUBRETON: That's Deron. He calls himself Marshal Pot-Au-Feu.

He is a cook... A good one.

Séparez la chair des os.

Fais mariner toute la nuit dans du vin rouge et de l'ail.

Faites ensuite cuire au bain-marie pendant deux heures...

..et sers chaud

avec une larme d'huile d'olive.

Enough of the Froggy talk, Sharpey.

You want the women, give me the gold.

(Woman screams)

Listen. Woman hostage.

Tried to escape.

Branding her with a hot iron.

Hurts a lot.

Want to see the women, Sharpey?

Follow me.

Funny thing, Sharpey.

We've got an Englishwoman, for this Froggy colonel here,

and a half-breed Portuguee for your English Colonel Farthingdale.

Funny, that.

Dupont!

Right, this one's yours, Colonel.

But no Froggy talk. One word in Frog and she goes straight back to her cell.

Talk English, like a Christian.

Madam, I'm Colonel Beauchamp.

I have the honour to know your husband Colonel Dubreton.

He sends you his love.

I trust my husband is well, Colonel.

He worries a lot about you, madam.

And you?

I am withering in my bloom, lost in solitary gloom, Colonel Beauchamp.

SARAH: Solitary gloom...

No wonder your husband loves you so much, madam.

As bright as you're beautiful.

HAKESWILL: Isn't that nice?

Now, Sharpey's turn.

Bring out Lady Farthingdale!

Captain Sharpe of the 95th, madam.

I'm Isabella, Lady Farthingdale.

I've come to take you home, my lady.

Oh, no, Sharpey. We've changed our mind.

We want double the amount.

- We've paid you. - That buys the ladies' virtue.

But only for five days.

You come back here, same time, same place, with double the amount of gold, Sharpey.

And if we do come back with the gold,

how do we know you'll release them then?

You'll just have to take my word for it.

And if you're a minute late,

we'll bust 'em.

Pass 'em around the boys...

and a good bustin' it'll be, too.

Show 'em your goodies, my lady.

Strip her!

SHARPE: I know you.

Do you?

The Battle of Talavera.

I'll know your name in a tick.

No names for the firing squad, Sharpey.

Strip her!

Let the Frogs do it.

No! If you want to shame somebody...

..shame me.

Show Sharpey what you've got, my lady.

Eyes up, Sharpey, or else I'll flog her round the convent.

Strip your bodice, missy.

My compliments, ma'am.

Shall I... give your regards to your husband?

Any message?

Come back soon, Captain Sharpe.

That's it, Sharpe.

On your way, boy.

Take them away!

I have a message from General Wellington.

(Gunshot)

Vous êtes fou!

General Wellington promises...

that he will hang every man who does not present himself at our outpost

by New Year's Day.

Five days, Sharpey.

(Laughs)

My wife is a calm woman yet she seemed a little hysterical,

even quoted poetry, "Withering in my bloom, lost in solitary gloom."

- Do you know the poem? - No.

When you get back to your people, please ask someone who does.

- Why? - I think it's some kind of message.

A message for you is no concern of mine, Colonel.

It may help if you're planning to rescue Lady Farthingdale.

And you? You're not planning to rescue your wife, too?

I will die for her.

But my superiors will not allow me to risk French lives in an attempt to rescue my English wife.

Colonel Dubreton!

So what are you going to do, Colonel?

My escort. I must go.

A man without rank tells a colonel what to do.

Don't you have majors who tell generals what to do, Captain?

Be careful. This is the man who would abandon my wife.

He has no honour.

Who is the English officer?

Je vous présente le Cap...

I speak English, Dubreton.

And I am sure this Englishman has no French.

My name is Ducos.

Major Ducos. You?

Captain Richard Sharpe.

95th Regiment Rifles.

You are the Sharpe that stole an imperial eagle at the Battle of Talavera?

Steal is a strong word, sir.

I found it in the middle of a French column.

Where I come from, it's a case of finders keepers.

Come, Colonel.

We have wasted enough time in Adrados.

It was a fool's errand in the first place.

Fool's errand?

That man's wife is held hostage, sir.

What is he to do?

Find another.

As you will have to if your wife ever falls into my hands.

Tell Teresa Moreno that she will suffer the fate of all whores

- if she ever falls into the hands of France. (Gun clicks)

You're a dead man, Ducos.

You're a spy, Ducos.

And not a very good one.

When I get back,

I shall tell my superiors that the French have a special agent in this area.

And when my wife catches you behind our lines,

you will die like a dog, sir.

Adieu, Monsieur Ducos.

Why won't you answer a simple question?

Is Lady Farthingdale pretty?

Maybe,

if you like that kind of look.

Did you notice her, Harper?

Oh, I did, so I did.

She's er... slender.

But she's shapely too, if you know what I mean.

Harper, I have half a bottle of the best Irish whiskey from the Irish priests at Salamanca.

You speak a word and you're dead, Harper.

I'll be dead, but...sure I'll be drunk!

May God forgive me for telling you this, but...

Lady Farthingdale was made to strip off naked in front of Mr Sharpe,

in order that he take pity on her, Miss...

When are you going back for her?

- Who says I'm going back for her? - You do, by not speaking about her.

"Withering in my bloom, lost in solitary gloom."

That's me to a T, Pat.

My report, sir.

I'm sorry we failed to bring back Lady Farthingdale, sir.

Never mind about Lady Farthingdale for now.

What matters to me is that you managed to smoke out that damn dog Major Ducos.

Well done, Sharpe.

Ducos is a very bad boy.

He has the ear of Bonaparte himself.

Where Ducos rides, dirty work is sure to follow.

He's scouting for an attack in the north, I can smell it.

You can't be sure of that, sir.

In the meantime, we have Lady Farthingdale to worry about.

Wellington's tent at six. Spit and polished for Sir Augustus Farthingdale.

He'll want a full written report, Sharpe.

Lancers.

HARPER: No. Rocket Troop, sir.

Yeah, I know that.

But they look like lancers.

Could even call them cavalry at a pinch.

Well, in a bad light.

Lancers?

No, sir, I really must protest...

We are the Rocket Troop, not cavalrymen.

- Lancers. - That's not what the Rocket Troop is trained to do.

What we do best is shoot rockets.

Would you like to watch us have another go at that barn?

We almost hit it this morning, and I have one ready.

Primed and aimed it myself, sir. All ready to go.

- No. - Fuse!

Hey! No, no!

Oh, dear.

Does that mean you'll not be able to find a use for us, Mr Sharpe?

Oh, I'll find a use for you, Mr Gilliand.

Don't you worry about that.

Rocket Troop, reload!

So... you failed, Sharpe.

That failure was no fault of Sharpe's, Colonel Farthingdale.

I wish I could be as sure, my lord.

The fact is that Sharpe was sent for my wife and my wife is not here.

And a court in Lisbon will want to know why.

This is a very shoddy affair, sir.

And I shall hold you personally responsible.

We may both be held responsible sooner than you think, Sir Augustus.

Not merely for losing your wife, but for losing Spain.

- What do you mean, sir? - Major Nairn.

I want to make three points, Sir Augustus.

First, about Adrados.

We thought we were dealing with a bunch of desperadoes,

but from what Sharpe reports, we're dealing with a small army,

many in British uniform, murdering the Spanish inhabitants.

This threatens our alliance with Spain.

Second, can you imagine what this will do to the morale of our troops,

coming up to a cold Christmas?

A scuttlebutt tells you there's a garden of Eden in the hills,

good food, good grog, no foot drill or flogging.

Wouldn't you say, "I'll be damned to it," and desert?

I know I would.

Disciplined troops desert, sir? Nonsense.

Don't be a damn fool, sir!

Discipline is only a rabble-rouser's shout from anarchy, sir.

Mark me close, Colonel.

What do you think the supreme virtue, sir?

To the Frenchman, in his recent revolution, it is liberty.

To the Whig, puffing in parliament, it is licence to do anything,

provide it do not disturb his pleasure.

But to the common soldier, it is anarchy –

to do whatever he please and be damned to his fellow.

But to me and Bonaparte,

the supreme virtue is order.

We are not Whigs.

We know that a man may love his neighbour of a Monday

and massacre him of a Tuesday, unless society keeps him in order.

These deserters,

if not secured and shot, will destroy my army more surely than Bonaparte.

And I'll thank you not to forget it.

You have a third point, Nairn.

Third, Sharpe reports that Colonel Dubreton...

...told him he was being advised by a Major Ducos.

Ducos is a very bad hat, Sir Augustus.

How do you know?

Why, he's in the same line of work as me, sir.

Why should Dubreton warn you about Ducos?

Dubreton is torn between his country and his wife.

He would not betray France but he fears Ducos may attack Adrados

without regard to his wife's safety.

We think Ducos was scouting not for an attack but for an invasion.

An invasion?

They can send a force to take Adrados as if they were dealing with the deserters.

But I think they mean to hold on to Adrados

and use it as a funnel to pour their army into Portugal.

But if the French attack, the deserters will kill the hostages.

Ducos doesn't care about the hostages. We need to take Adrados before he does.

But if we send in a strong force, the deserters will kill your wife.

Oh...

I'm sorry, Sir Augustus, it's...

not your fault...

but, human nature being what it is

and not what the Whigs think it is,

you must expect to shoulder some of the blame for this back in London.

You know the kind of thing they'll say.

"How did that damn fellow Farthingdale allow his wife to be kidnapped in the first place?"

That kind of thing, you know.

You follow me, don't you, sir?

What do you suggest, my lord?

Sharpe is the one with the suggestion.

He's put forward a rescue plan that is foolhardy and certainly not for the faint-hearted.

But it might do.

Do we know the women are in the convent?

Colonel Dubreton's wife is English.

When asked how she was, she replied...

"Withering in my bloom, lost in solitary gloom."

It's from a poem by Alexander Pope, called...

Héloïse And Abelard.

"Now, warm in love,

now withering in thy bloom,

lost in a convent's solitary gloom."

It's beautiful.

The shepherds told me the convent means the upper balcony.

It's where the nuns used to sleep.

Now, if we can hold the balcony, well-armed and with plenty of ammunition,

we can secure the women's safety until the crack company arrives.

And, of course, you will be following close behind with the main rescue party, Sir Augustus.

(Clears throat) Yes, well, naturally, I shall be leading the regimental rescue.

I don't see a role for you, Sharpe.

A detachment cannot be led by a captain. It must have a major in command. Rules.

May I have your word

that you will support the major in command of the detachment?

Absolutely, sir.

Major Nairn, read that letter from the Prince Regent in respect of Captain Sharpe.

The Prince Regent?!

It seems Sharpe has friends at court, too.

Though in London, not in Lisbon.

Seems the Prince Regent read about Sharpe taking that eagle at Talavera

and has followed his career since.

Read it, Nairn.

"George III,

by the grace of God, ofthe United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland,

King, defender of the faith..." etc, etc...

"To our trusty...and well-beloved Richard Sharpe Esquire, greeting.

We do by these presents constitute and appoint you to be major

in our army now in Portugal and Spain and..."

..blah, blah, blah, blah.

Congratulations, Major Sharpe.

And of course, as major, you may now command the detachment.

All in order now, Colonel?

Of course it's not my place to question the judgment of the Prince Regent.

All I do know is that the major here,

who is in charge of a complex and combined operation,

cannot rise to the purchase of a watch!

You may borrow mine, sir.

See you return it.

My lord, if you'll excuse me...

How can you slip into Adrados unchallenged?

I mean to go in on Christmas Eve, sir.

Capital idea. They'll be dead drunk.

About that crack company, sir.

60th Rifles. They'll be here by sunset under a Captain Frederickson.

Will Teresa...

..Comandante Moreno be riding with us as far as the river, sir?

No. Nairn is sending her northwest to scout the frontier for the French.

Best you say farewell to her now, Major Sharpe. Dismiss.

Yes, sir.

Fairly dangerous business, eh?

Mm.

Rifles, halt!

TERESA: Your new command.

Advance...

arms!

Left face.

Sort them out, Sergeant.

May God help them, Mr Cooper.

These poor souls don't know Mr Sharpe, do they, Sergeant Harper?

They don't, Mr Cooper.

They don't know Mr Sharpe saved Wellington's life,

do they, Sergeant Harper?

HARPER: They don't, Mr Hagman.

They don't know Mr Sharpe shot three dragoons out of the saddle in 30 seconds, do they,

- Sergeant Harper? - They certainly don't.

I bet they don't know Mr Sharpe shot a man just for having rust on his trigger.

They don't, Mr Hagman.

I bet they don't know Mr Sharpe shot an officer just for having dust on his buttons.

What was it Mr Sharpe says makes a good soldier, Mr Cooper?

Remind me again, sarge.

What Major Sharpe says makes a good soldier

is the ability to be able to fire three rounds a minute...

in any weather.

COOPER: Must remember that.

Shush, boys. Here he comes.

The devil himself.

Rifles, present arms!

60th Rifles reporting for duty, sir!

Advance arms.

Your men are dirty and scruffy and a damn disgrace.

What's your name, mister?

Captain Frederickson, sir.

No apologies about your men?

Men are dirty, sir.

Rifles are clean.

What are you smiling at, Sergeant?

Nothing, sir. Sorry, sir.

A good solider should have a reason before he suffers himself to smile.

- Name! - Rossner, sir.

Do you know what makes a good soldier, Rossner?

Yes, sir. The ability to fire off three rounds a minute in any weather, sir.

What are you smiling at, Frederickson?

I'm not smiling, sir.

A musket ball broke myjaw.

I have false teeth.

The sawbones stuck on the smile for free, sir.

Also, stuck on my hair.

Hair belongs to a horse, sir.

Do you know what makes a good soldier, Captain Frederickson?

Yes, sir.

Keeping his mouth shut when he's asked damn fool questions by a superior officer, sir.

You don't give a damn, do you, Frederickson?

No, sir. I just do my duty, sir.

You'll do fine.

Stand easy, Frederickson.

Who's your best shot?

Taylor, sir.

Right, Taylor...

A shilling says you can't beat even a raw recruit to the Chosen Men.

Perkins, give me your hat.

Right, Taylor.

Make ready.

Huh...

Well, would you believe it?

Perkins put his bullet straight through the same hole made by Taylor.

Tell me, Frederickson...

what do the lads really call you?

Behind your back, I mean.

Sweet William.

♪ ..stooping down

♪ To tie her garter

♪ Tie it a little above her knee

♪ If my hand should slip a little farther

♪ Would you think it wrong of me?

Why can't Harris wear the dress, sir?

- Harris hasn't the figure for it. - (Laughter)

- But, sir, it's not fair! It's always me. - Don't wriggle round!

I must protest, sir.

My rockets are being robbed of their powder.

We were brought here under false pretences.

I really must protest, sir.

It's either that... or wear a dress, rocket man.

Leave her alone! In God's name, leave her alone!

No!

- (Shrieks) - Who wants this one, lads?

Ahh!

That's no work for a soldier.

If you don't like what you see, you can go on guard duty.

Allez!

MAN: Come on, girl!

Don't you worry, Lady Farthingdale.

You'll get plenty of time to show your charms.

You want another goose to pluck, boys?

Soon as Sharpey gets back and we've slit his gizzard...

..I'll take you downstairs and you can join the dance.

Murderer!

MEN: ..we all fall down.

Ring-a-ring o' roses...

- (Screams) - A pocket full of posies!

I want to see you at six sharp.

Yes, sir.

Merry Christmas, sir.

Good luck.

Keep it up, Perkins!

That's not just Ramona's best dress, it's her only dress.

SHARPE: Here, mate...

Give us an 'and with this one, will you?

(Shouting and singing from inside)

♪ ..to you and your king...

♪ We wish you a merry Christmas...

(Laughter and shouting)

(Woman screams)

♪ To you and your king

♪ We wish you a merry Christmas

♪ And a happy New Year

Who goes there?

I remember you.

Kelly.

Connaught Rangers.

You downed a dragoon at Talavera.

They didn't remember that when they flogged me, sir.

Yes, but I remembered, didn't I, Kelly?

Pass, friend.

Like to fall in, Kelly?

Thank you, sir.

HAKESWILL: Who'll give me what for this?

In there.

Cooper...

Madame Dubreton.

- Captain Sharpe. - Don't worry, miss.

- Cooper'll soon have you out. - Never mind me, go to Isabella.

Harper...

..put Hagman and Harris on sentry.

The rest of you, get some kip.

Isabella.

(Gasps)

- Oh, I'm so sorry. I thought you must be... - Shh!

My men are next door. Not many, but enough to protect you till dawn.

Why? What's happening at dawn?

Hopefully, a crack company arrives and we effect a rescue.

I knew everything would be all right as soon as I saw you.

You haven't changed much in three years, you know.

I've risen in the ranks, though.

Much like you, my lady.

So, tell me,

how did you get to become the wife of such an important man?

I was mistress to a duke.

When Sir Augustus took a fancy to me,

my duke managed to pass me off as... some kind of distant relation.

From a whore to a duchess, eh?

Sir Augustus is a snob.

By the time he found out I was a whore, it was too late and...

he had to keep my little history a secret.

Why did he bring you to Spain?

To hide me, I suppose.

Fewer questions asked here.

How long is it till dawn?

Three hours.

This is my husband's watch.

He loaned it me for the night.

Might I suggest a...

similar arrangement in regard to erm...

another piece of his property?

We could maybe call it a debt of honour.

I have another woman now.

Yes, but she's not here.

Have you no morals?

Have you read Voltaire?

Yes.

He's very sensible about sharpshooters.

Well, he's...

more sensible about morals.

Voltaire says...

I have no morals.

Yet I'm a very moral person.

That's how I think I am.

That's how I think you are, too.

Hubble, bubble,

toil... and trouble.

I'll stay here, find out what's going on.

You ride south.

Tell Sharpe a strong reconnaissance force of Frogs is on its way to seize Adrados.

He is to hold the village at all costs until Sir Augustus comes up with reinforcements.

What kind of force is he facing?

A regiment at least.

So, I was right.

Adrados does have strategic importance.

So...

ifthe deserters don't kill him by dawn, we can look forward to seeing the French by sunset.

And even when SirAugustus arrives, he will still be outnumbered ten to one.

I wish I had your ears, Macduff.

I'd give a lot to know what that devil Ducos is thinking.

Fire! Fire!

Rifles, make... ready!

Suivez-moi, suivez-moi!

Chosen Men!

Miss, you've got to get out of the way!

(Shrieks)

- What the bloody hell was that? - I locked up an hour ago, sir.

Good man.

ALL: Heave! Heave!

Fire!

Argh!

Charge!

Je me rends!

I surrender.

Clean slate, sir.

Chosen Man, Kelly.

Hakeswill's taken Isabella.

Sharpey's whore.

Put that pistol down, lassie, or I'll blow Lady Farthingdale's brains out.

Save yourself. Shoot him!

(Gun clicks)

Oh!

Put down your pistol.

Shoot Lady Farthingdale and I will hand you over to Captain Sharpe.

I surrender myself to you, sir.

Deal with me how you will.

But don't hand me over to Sharpe.

Agreed.

Tell Sharpe...

You give your word, sir.

To deal with you myself.

And I will.

Twenty dead and Hakes will not amongst them.

Isabella gone.

I'll be lucky to get away with a court martial.

It was a brave stand. You did well.

That's what you should tell the fop.

Where is my wife, Sharpe?

Major Nairn, sir.

I'm sorry, Sharpe.

Teresa?

Oh...

Don't go.

Love you.

I left you a daughter.

Time I was on my way.

Please!

Please don't go.

You... You never stopped me from doing what I must do.

That's why I loved you so much.

Go...

You set me free.

Set me free now...

Richard.

Please.

DUBRETON: I'm truly sorry, monsieur.

This is the man who killed your wife.

SHARPE: A liar...

A thief.

A rapist.

A murderer.

That's not a man.

Take it away.

Sarah.

Vous allez bien, madame?

Je vais très bien, monsieur.

I am Major Ducos, personal envoy of General Chaumier,

who is camped a few miles away.

I have a message for the commander of Adrados.

You must excuse Major Sharpe.

His wife has just been killed.

What is the message?

General Chaumier's compliments.

You have one hour to surrender the village of Adrados.

I will tell Major Sharpe when he's more composed.

Thank you, Major Ducos.

Naturally, I would have liked to express my regrets to Major Sharpe,

on the death of his wife.

But not when his wife was the Spanish whore who waged war on France.

Au revoir, monsieur.

I have a message for General Chaumier.

Tell General Chaumier we will fight him to the death.

Major Sharpe is not well.

We outnumber you ten to one.

There will be no terms if you do not surrender within the hour.

To the death.

I'm in charge here, Major Sharpe.

We shall discuss terms immediately.

Your wife was a whore, sir.

I know, for I was once her lover.

Let that get out and you'll be the laughing stock of Lisbon –

and then of London.

Leave now and, on my honour,

no word of it will pass my lips.

But...

But I do love her, you know.

You're a damned liar.

To the death.

Colonel Dubreton...

Since Major Sharpe is so determined,

we will not demean ourselves by begging for your wife.

Madame.

Merci, monsieur.

Tell General Chaumier I have horse, foot and artillery.

Tell him what Voltaire said.

You told me you didn't speak French.

I lied.

My wife taught me.

She taught me many things.

Above all, how to say goodbye.

Someday...

I'll say goodbye to you.

Certainly.

You have foot, Sharpe, 100 men. But where's your horse and artillery?

Rifles,

make ready!

Fire!

HARPER: Advance arms!

Rifles! Left face!

The English major reads Voltaire, madame?

Yes. He's very clever.

See how he buries his wife on the hills, Ducos?

He's telling us he'll be buried beside her rather than give up the position.

He is bluffing.

He has no more than 100 men, General.

Beg your pardon, General, but he has horse, foot and artillery.

He said so. Didn't he, dear?

He said so, certainly.

He lied.

I saw no cavalry or artillery. He is bluffing.

And so are we, Ducos.

This is merely a reconnaissance force.

I have infantry, but no cavalry or artillery.

My orders tell me I must retire if I meet serious resistance.

My orders from Paris

are to press the British before the new year.

I say attack... now, sir.

Major Ducos,

I am willing to attack on your assurance

the English have neither cavalry or artillery.

But I want it in writing.

Of course, General.

I take full responsibility.

And, of course, I also take credit for its success.

(Drums)

Vive l'Empereur!

ALL: Vive l'Empereur! Vive l'Empereur!

Front rank...

kneel!

When we advance in line,

each pea is apart.

And it is very hard to pick up one pea with a fork.

But to eat the peas,

we move them together, like so.

And then...

..we pick them all up.

And how would Major Sharpe go about moving all your peas together?

Cavalry.

But Ducos says he has no cavalry.

Maybe you have misunderstood, my dear lady.

DUBRETON: Cavalry!

CHAUMIER: Mon Dieu!

Cavalerie!

Fire!

Reload!

Mr Gilliand.

Rocket Artillery,

prepare for bombardment.

Fire!

Fuses.

(Rockets whistle closer)

(Cheering)

Good shooting, Sweet William.

Well done, Mr Gilliand.

I'll be damned if we don't reach the moon someday,

with one of your blasted rockets.

Oh. Sir.

Captain.

Well done, sir. Well done.

HAKESWILL: Can't... kill me.

You... can't kill me.

You can't...

(Gunshot)

ANTONIA: Ma...

(Thunder rumbles)

♪ Though I may travel far from Spain

♪ Part of me shall still remain

♪ For you are with me night and day

♪ And over the hills and far away

♪ O'er the hills and o'er the main

♪ Through Flanders, Portugal and Spain

♪ King George commands and we obey

♪ Over the hills and far away