All language subtitles for Mary & George - 01x07 - War.GalaxyTV.EnglishToFrench

The following programme contains strong language,

and scenes of a sexual nature.

This does not have to be a fight between us.

It's not a fight, Mother. You're not even on the battlefield anymore.

Diego has this lovely dream for the Infanta to marry our young Charles.

- How about we go?
- Where?

- Madrid.
- Our committee has found

Sir Francis Bacon guilty of corruption.

Would you hold it against me if I got some personal vengeance?

♪ In the land ♪

♪ Wh... ♪

♪ Wh-he... ♪

♪ He-h... ♪

♪ I'll b... ♪

♪ Where I'll be laid ♪

♪ The fairest breeze found me ♪

♪ I heard it singing ♪

♪ In the glade ♪

♪ And to the south ♪

♪ It turned my cheek ♪

♪ Winter's hand did choke the light ♪

♪ A mirror of my melancholy ♪

♪ Death took all my love away ♪

♪ Summer's yet to crown me ♪

♪ But you are the warm breeze of thawing ♪

♪ Fair is the season ♪

♪ In your eyes ♪

♪ With love, my heart is calling ♪

♪ I'll wrap your hands ♪

♪ In gold divine ♪

♪ Now take me ♪

♪ Burn me ♪

♪ And England's heart ♪

♪ Will learn to love ♪

♪ The spring ♪

That's it. Please.

- You want to die?
- Why not? Fuck it all.

- You're taking banishment well.
- You're a funny cunt.

- And you're just a cunt.
- Yes. How did you find me?

I followed the scent of death.

What's wrong?

Have you lost your nerve?

Your life is a better punishment.

40 years of statecraft.

15 for that constantly inconstant King.

And then you and your son squat upon my life like defecating imps.

You're welcome. Fuck.

How I've thought about slicing your throat.

Your blood for hers.

And yet stood here I'd rather be anywhere else.

Enjoy the hell I made.

Did you love her?

Your...

- Irish wench?
- What does it matter?

Course it matters. Otherwise I would have left the bitch alone.

Say another word against her.

- There are worse things than death.
- Yes.

Betrayal is worse.

I asked his permission. Your son.

To slay your girl.

And George gave it, gladly. Even encouraged the act.

That is not my George.

He is many things but he is not that.

More of a monster than you thought?

Yes, that boy.

How far will he go?

Finally.

What do you mean, Your Highness?

It's...

...it's been months since we met the Infanta.

I think we assumed that talks would have started earlier.

Perhaps just... just hoped.

Prayed.

You're unconventional men.

To travel all this way, with no soldiers to defend you,

nor diplomats to advise you.

Men with peace in their hearts need no army.

Or experts in their ears.

We bring only love to your nation.

The Infanta is...

- ...beautiful.
- Did you think you could sing a song for her?

And steal her away to England?

No.

But we both think that this union would greatly benefit Spain.

We are more powerful...

...together.

Do you not agree?

I am Chief Negotiator for Spain.

It is not for me to agree or disagree on generalities.

Only specifics.

We have countless matters of state, commerce, faith...

to agree and negotiate.

Starting with Prince Charles' conversion to Catholicism.

Me?

That would be unpopular.

- Very.
- More than very.

This is not something that we would agree to.

Ever.

Your Highness.

The Duke of Buckingham. Thank you very much.

Your mother would know what to do.

- Countess.
- Your Majesty.

- Are we in a wee bit of trouble?
- A wheel shattered beneath me.

Brr. But the road to my house is so flat and true.

- How very strange, my dear.
- Luck escapes me at the present.

And I.

I am not meant to have visitors. Physician's orders.

If I'm ever to return to London, my duties, I must rest, out here.

On my own.

Now, someone or other of mine will get a horse ready for you.

Then you can ride up to the house, then you can go.

- No.
- What, do you defy me?

No, never, Your Majesty. Your word is God's.

A horse threw me as a child. I do not ride.

Ever. A carriage, or I walk.

- But it's fucking miles.
- How else shall I get there, Sire?

The Duke of Buckingham.

What a pleasure to see you again.

I want to talk.

Just us.

If you wish.

When are you going to stop pretending these talks are over?

What could we possibly offer to bring you back to the table?

You want me to decide your negotiating strategy for you?

No, I want us to talk.

Directly. Honestly.

I'm tired of waiting.

You will need to have some more patience, I'm afraid.

I'm the same man here as I am at that table.

There's no difference. Spain's interests are mine.

And England's are mine.

And my nation...

...rewards those who help us.

"Rewards"?

How?

Whatever you want. It's yours.

I want Spain to thrive. That's all.

If Charles and the Infanta marry, it will.

I promise you that. As will you.

Such a promise has no value to me.

I'm just trying to help you here!

In my faith, you do not try to bribe a man before God.

Good day.

Let go of me, boy.

Boy?

Who do you think you're talking to?

I know who you are. It's clear.

If you're going to insult me, then go on. You might as well.

I do not need to. Your words and your acts...

- ...do this for you.
- We're negotiating!

Just like you wanted. You devious Spanish...

Those who defy me, regret it.

Always.

Is that a threat, sir?

It is... sir.

I will destroy you.

Your whole sorry fucking country. Every last inch.

How is it that your King and...

his son, the Prince, they...

give you so much power?

They don't give me anything.

I am the power. I am the King. I am England.

And your insults will be repaid...

...on my life.

- What happened?
- You had another fit.

As we left your carriage.

I think it was the light. You fell like a stone.

What did I say about visitors?

Don't lecture me, Harvey. I'm barely fucking conscious.

Apologies. But the point stands.

Piss off. And let me say goodbye to her.

Please?

- I see little care in him.
- Ach, your George loves sour old Harvey.

I think they write to each other. Agree my treatment.

Report on my progress as their patient.

- George is no physician.
- Why, are you?

No. But I know what men like you need.

Men like me?

You disparage me now? In my own home. Your King?

Men of feeling.

Rare men.

Men brave enough to see the true pain in the world.

But that pain must be shared.

Or it shatters the heart.

Share it with me.

George wouldn't like it.

He's soured on you.

If he soured on me too...

No, you should leave.

Now. Please.

Whatever you say, Your Majesty.

But a woman's love is different.

A mother's. Unbending.

Unconditional.

I never had a mother.

I know.

No!

I had her. I could have been wed.

Or... happy.

And now we, what? We flee from the talks

- like weak fools?
- The talks were never, Charles.

They felt, George. As as the fucking...

countless miles we've travelled to get here.

- And we now face again.
- However much the Infanta wanted you,

and I believe that she did, they did not.

Making you wait. Making you convert.

- It's horseshit, Charles.
- But maybe we could've met...

- met them halfway.
- There is no halfway!

Did something happen?

It did. I'm not moving another bloody step, until you tell me.

I'll tell you what happened.

I went to the negotiator to try and get the talks started again.

It was all a lie. The talks. The match.

He wanted to drag it out, to embarrass us.

You know what he told me?

The Infanta is the best of Spain.

And she deserves better than a weak boy.

He said that?

He did?

I've been mocked my whole life.

Behind my back.

In front of my back. Everywhere.

And I will not be again.

I would rather die on a Spanish fucking dirt-track

than return to disgrace.

Or mockery.

- I mean it.
- And that's why we're going

to make the Spanish pay.

We go back to the King.

As fast as we can.

And we tell him what happened.

That we escaped Spain's foul endeavours.

As heroes.

Heroes?

That sounds better.

So...

Did you win peace?

- ...Father.
- It is so good to see you.

It is. I could cry.

And we have...

so much to share.

You didn't answer my question.

Enough men have carried me news of disaster.

I know the countenance they carry.

It is yours.

We did our best.

I'm a tired bear.

I've not the energy for bad news.

Tomorrow.

You look like brothers.

We are.

Charles.

- He's not meant to have visitors.
- I'm not a visitor.

- You are.
- You have a room here?

At the King's invitation.

What of his physician? His own?

The King sought new advice.

- New company.
- You think he's yours now?

He is no one's. He is the King.

Once you wanted me to dominate him.

When I trusted you, yes.

I'm still that same boy.

You're not a boy, George.

The talks collapsed?

- I will discuss Madrid with him. Not you.
- It went that badly?

- You know nothing.
- I've seen enough to know enough.

- And guess the rest.
- Once you're done guessing,

you can get the fuck out.

The King wants me here.

What is it you think you can offer him that I can't?

Protection.

From his worst instinct. You.

- He loves me.
- He's paid a price for that love, as me.

You let her die like an animal.

I did.

Have you no remorse?

I have nothing to be sorry for.

I fear you might believe that.

Fear what you fucking want,

I'm going to His Majesty.

He said tomorrow.

No one lies with him anymore, George. No one.

He is not the man you left behind.

Tomorrow, then.

That tastes disgusting.

Poppy milk. Softens the pain.

Softens the cock.

But what if I want to feel something?

Not you, lad.

Don't worry. I don't have the capability for that anymore.

He's as still as the grave.

I'm sure there's life in him yet.

- Did you talk to George?
- Briefly.

What went wrong in Madrid? Did he say?

He didn't share. Which I think tells its own story.

What have we borne?

George, stop slobbering on me.

Like a dog on a fat bone.

- Son.
- Father?

Why's it so dark in here?

Part of his new treatment. Avoid light.

- Alcohol. Stay inside. Embrace rest.
- He lives for the outdoors.

- To drink.
- It stopped his fits, George.

That's something.

Great.

Yes, your mother, her Napier.

They're keeping me alive. I thank them.

No, it is we who should thank you.

For your grace and majesty in adversity, Sire.

May we speak of Spain, now? You will want to hear.

I performed...

...beautifully.

I won the Infanta.

To great applause.

But those Spanish swines would not let us-

Applause, Charles?

What worth is a fucking clap or three?

You were there to save us from war!

- Wretched war!
- I think what he meant...

The King knows what he means.

- That is why he is angry.
- In-fucking-deed.

The whole thing was clearly a desperate failure.

Let's just leave it at that.

- He flinched.
- What?

When I kissed him.

- He's never done that before.
- Fuck.

Yes. Fuck!

Can I help you, Your Highness?

Countess.

I wanted to ask for your guidance.

Father will not discuss it. But someone must.

What are we to do about...

...Spain?

They were so hostile to us.

I fear their dark intent.

Whatever happened, it is no simple fix.

It will take resolve.

Years of diplomacy. But you know that.

You're as smart as the King. If not more.

- Thank you.
- You hide it as well as he does.

He within indulgence and debauchery.

You with your forced sincerity.

- That's less appreciated.
- You don't need my advice.

Why are you here? As a distraction?

Where is George?

I dreamt of thunder.

- A storm.
- You're awake now.

The skies are clear.

It's been a tempest since my birth.

You can be born again...

James.

Come with me.

My eyes are hurting.

Maybe we should go back.

Your mother's gonna be furious.

Whose Devil's work is this?

Mine.

It's heaven.

- Here.
- Almost.

Fuck me alive again.

Welcome home.

And you.

What happened over there?

Really?

We did everything right.

Especially Charles.

You would have been proud of him.

The Spanish...

...they are monsters.

Deceitful men of no faith. None.

All they wanted to do was demean us.

Your son... and love.

Will you really let that stand, Your Majesty?

You need not be jealous.

I was. Once.

It's a different love.

He only loves one person.

And it's not your father.

It never was.

One wetting and he's yours?

- Basically.
- What happens now?

He agrees that we need a show of unity.

Of strength.

A response to all of Spain's insults against us in Madrid.

I will address Parliament very soon.

- And say what?
- The truth.

We have been too soft on the Spanish for too long.

And now you want to be tough?

Your arrogance is unbound.

You'll risk war to hide your failure?

Have you not shed enough blood?

As if no man has died by your hand?

No innocent man. You are not who I raised.

That is all I am, Mother.

Now, let us not fight.

You know I never speak against my son.

- But he's making a terrible mistake...
- don't start today.

We each take our path.

And yours is now decided.

George and Charles shall go to London.

Address their concerns of this Madrid business.

Of Spanish misbehaviour. And you shall go home.

You've stayed long enough.

And, please, don't be concerned.

We all want peace. But a message can be sent.

Lines can be drawn.

As George says...

...we can be born again.

And I believe him.

I do.

Sir Edward. Thank you for agreeing to meet us.

Your Highness. How can I help you?

There will be a speech in Parliament this week.

- Mine.
- I asked him. The Prince.

There will be a speech to Parliament this week. His.

Explaining what we went through in Spain.

Endured. Battled.

Forgive me if I doubt there were heroics in Madrid on either side.

We went to build peace.

And they weren't interested.

Which is why we must address Parliament.

Show the scale of the threat. Show that we will fight.

Will you ensure it is well received?

The House listens to you.

If you're ready to match your fighting words with action, yes.

So.

Are you?

- Ready?
- Absolutely.

Aren't we?

- We are.
- Good.

Then Parliament is yours.

I apologise for the King's absence today.

He sends his respect.

And his support in this...

dangerous hour.

When foreign forces...

...are at our door.

And our people are looking to us,

the guiding hands of both Crown and State to protect them.

I will not recount every moment in Madrid.

Nor wallow in pride at helping the Prince escape dark Spanish clutches.

In a land where we were tormented by the promise of the Infanta's hand.

But, no.

It was a cruel trick.

Prison dressed as diplomacy.

Debasements sought on us by men

who do not truly understand what binds Englishmen.

Faith.

- Love. Strength.
- Yes.

We were once a conquering nation.

We have bloodied the Spanish in battle before.

And we should once again!

A fight not for its own sake.

No. Never.

But one to establish a true and lasting forever peace.

Now is the moment

to stare at the Devil and say, "No more."

No more!

No more!

She's back again?

Welcome to my new palace.

- Airy.
- Quite the construction.

Beautiful. Wet your lips, love?

Shall we toast?

- What to?
- War.

What?

It's all the talk in London. War is coming.

After George's speech, it's inevitable.

He was just showing strength.

- That's what he told me he would do.
- He went so much further.

Declared it in all but name.

Ugly words are necessary in ugly days.

- I'm sure we're far from war.
- Are we? How do you know?

Out here in this Palace of Pleasure George built for you.

Because I decide if war is waged or not.

I'm still King, remember?

May I have my fucking brandy back now, please?

They were abused by Spain.

He told me. Charles, too. All of it.

I heard that George's passions ruined the talks.

I don't believe it. I don't.

He would never lie to me so savagely.

Why can you not look me in the eye and say that?

It is not too late. War could still be undone.

What if it is too late?

I feel like it's late in the hour, Mary.

It's a pity.

It's a pity.

I rather like it here.

Will we ever actually go to war with Spain?

With no standing army?

Our ships are mostly merchant vessels.

If we must. Yes.

I've never seen war.

It'll make you.

Stop the coach.

Ride ahead, Charles. Make sure the King is safe.

What's burning? George?

George?!

Fuck.

Go!

What have you done?

It's more what you did, isn't it?

Another step, I bite out your eyes.

What?

- Don't be foolish.
- Show respect to your King.

Is she right? War is coming?

Possibly.

That's why Charles and I are here.

- We're here to discuss this with you, James.
- What a blessing!

How good of you to come down here and deign to talk to me!

Mighty Zeus cunt!

My whole fucking life, men have tried to kill me.

Use me. Deceive me. And the worst of them...

use war for their own ends.

And I made myself.

Rex Pacificus. A Great King of Peace.

Stood proud against all those wretched men,

seeking their needless fields of blood.

- Their needless fucking dead.
- I want peace, James.

- I want the same as you.
- Peace? But you only bring death.

And you'll turn my son, so he brings the same.

But we will end that, Your Majesty. Finally. Save peace.

- Unmake all he has made.
- I hope so.

What was it all nearly destroyed for?

This empty boy. What I have wrought in seeking his young hollow flesh?

- It was for love.
- No!

No. An old fool's lust...

...blinded me.

But now I see.

- You're a traitor.
- No.

He is not a traitor. He has been rash. I will advised.

- But he is not a traitor, Your Majesty.
- Silence!

Both of you.

From this moment forth,

the Duke of Buckingham is stripped of all his titles.

And positions. And soon, at an hour I choose, on gallows I build...

- he'll hang for treason against me.
- That is not the way!

- The King has spoken!
- That is not the way!

I have spoken.

Under God's eye and mine.

George will die.

George...

- What happened?
- Inhaled smoke.

The fire was just an accident.

- Where's the physician?
- The King dismissed him recently.

- You should ride to him as quick as you can.
- Me?

- He'll want to see me when he wakes.
- I'm a good rider but I'm his son...

Your speed might save him.

- George?
- She's right.

He'd love you for this.

He's a furnace.

- He needs water.
- George.

What?

George.

He didn't mean it. Did he?

I saw no doubt in him.

Nor I.

If he speaks to Charles...

Gives him the same order.

To have me hung.

- Charles is a good friend, but...
- He'd never stand up to his father.

It must be easier for you.

You, alone with The King?

George, you are my son.

Where are they all headed, mate?

Are you talking to me?

Who else? You're
the Duke, no?

And they're your men.

That I am.

And that they are.

Every last one.

Who do they fight this time?

France.

You fight them again?

Why?

Because we must.

- So you're done with Spain now, then?
- I didn't say that.

Who knows? You fight enough wars,

you might fucking win one at last.

Change your luck.

Or... is it more than luck?

Do you think?

To lose so much? So often?

So... callously?

With no regard for death.

For loss. For other men's suffering.

- Pain.
- You're the maudlin type.

That's fine.

I like that. I don't mind it at all.

You're climbing the wrong tree, friend.

I've climbed forests full.

There's no such thing.

I've a room upstairs.

We could go?

Could we? It's tempting.

No. Sorry.

What an infinite fucking shame.

You don't remember me, do you?

I served under you at La Rochelle, sir.

That mess.

Yeah. 5,000 men.

Gone. Like that.

You don't remember me?

Do you expect me to remember every man who was ever under me?

Maybe I have something on my person that might remind you, though.

I would love to see that.

For my lost friends.

Who died in a war of nothing that you made.

May you remember them, too.

Every last man, at long fucking last.

George Villiers!

What?

Master George.

He's dead.

- Would you like to know how?
- Why?

How else would this end?

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