All language subtitles for Henry VIII s01e03 Seymour.eng

(CHANTING IN LATIN)

MAN: Hello!

Edward!

He's here. He's here!

My dear boy.

-He brought presents!
-Welcome home.

Presents for all of us.

-The King's on his way here.
-Oh! You should have warned us.

Well, I only knew this morning,
Mother, between salt and grace,

I had to dissuade him from
fetching the whole court on you.

-But how many?
-Carew, Francis Bryan, about 30 men with him.

God's life.

Hey.

-For you, my dear. Bruges satin.
-Oh, my son.

-You haven't brought it.
-Haven't I?

(BIRD CHIRPING)

Here you are, kitten. Straight from a
sea man who'd been on the South Island.

Oh, Edward. Thank you.

-You'll have to make a bigger cage.
-Oh, yes.

Jane.

-Edward.
-Jane.

Thomas, he must have
a very grand yellow one.

-Gold, I think, with a silver bell.
-Bells and cages.

And His Grace coming here at any
moment and expecting a banquet!

-The King?
-Yes. He's coming here.

-I'll order fresh rushes.
-And some herbs.

-EDWARD: And that musk scent, Jane, for the King.
-Yes, and fresh flowers.

Sir, this is for you.

-That's a beautiful thing.
-It's yours, Father.

We had your letter.

-So you're to marry again?
-Yes.

-I'm glad of it.
-You know her, Jane. Anne Stanhope.

-You were at court together.
-Mistress Stanhope, yes. She'll suit you, Edward.

-Oh, I hope you'll be happy.
-Thank you.

All of you.

Come then. You'll want
a bath and change of clothing.

-It's forgotten, then?
-Long ago, Father.

Do you think His Grace will
like the yellow bird?

MAN: The nine, Your Grace.
HENRY: Aha! I have a Cromwell.

Your play, Sir John.

-It's an unlucky night.
-HENRY: A knave to beat Sir Nicholas!

My point, yes.

That's undoubtedly where your bird comes
from, my dear, the Canary Islands.

Oh, thank you, Your Grace.

-The score, Your Grace...
-No, no. Don't tell us the total, Francis.

He's won so much from me on this progress,
I shall have to pawn the jewels.

As bad as de Longueville, eh?

You two were only boys then,
but that Frenchman,

between the tennis court and the card
table, practically paid his ransom.

One cannot imagine Your Grace
being bettered at tennis.

Oh, but de Longueville
was a very clever player.

Do you remember how he took the Duke,
Sir John?

The day of the spurs.

-They ran like hares, Your Grace.
-Didn't they!

I always thought de Longueville
may have wanted to be taken.

What? No, no, too clever.
Of course, he was French.

(JOHN CHUCKLES)

Oh, but didn't they run.

That was chivalry,
before all this gunpowder.

Yes. It's sad the bowman's passing.

The bowman is not passing, Master Thomas.

I think what my brother
intended, Your Grace...

Ah, Lady Margaret, a splendid supper. Now,
if only this pelting weather will abate.

Your Grace will forgive me,

but there is a monstrous fellow
outside speaking of boats and bars.

He says he is in Your Grace's service.

-Sir Francis.
-Dear Lady Margaret,

if you'll be kind enough to have
the man shown to the King's chamber.

He's a locksmith.
Oh, don't be alarmed.

His Grace sleeps nowhere nowadays
without these precautions.

I'll see it done, Your Grace.

You've been at sea, Master Thomas,
or you'd know better.

Artillery is all very well,
it has its uses certainly.

But the long bow will never be superseded.
Never.

It's widely believed in the West Country,
Your Grace, that in a few years,

English bowmen could capture
the whole of Africa.

That's true. And as the country...

There's no more pink. Do you think Orpheus
would mind it being done in blue?

I don't give tuppence for the townsman,
he's no stomach for the fight!

You know, it's funny, but with him here,
the room seems so small.

...will drift into the towns
unless they're found employment.

We stand in grave danger
of invasion, gentlemen,

and it's for the landowners to
train these men in the use of arms.

-In danger of invasion?
-(CHUCKLING) Not this evening, Lady Margaret.

Sir Francis,
you were speaking of the Dormers.

As you will understand, we are
most anxious to see Jane well mated,

now that she and Dorothy are the
last of our girls left single.

Yes, I think we may have a match there.

I represented my niece in glowing terms
to Sir Robert Dormer and his wife.

Naturally, the boy is anxious
to meet with Jane,

but I think the only question
will be one of dowry.

Well, of course Sir John and
I are prepared to be generous.

Of course. Poor Jane.

If only she had something to say for herself,
not a lot, but something. And so pale.

You really must try and
keep her out of doors more.

But, Sir Francis, it's her natural colour.

HENRY: Oh, there are statutes.
My statutes.

-Do you like him, Jane?
-He's the King.

-But do you like him?
-I wish someonecould help him.

-The King?
-Shh.

...runs there acting contrary to statute.

Of course, most of Wiltshire
is still champion land, sir.

Well, these men should be employed on
the road. I've never seen so many potholes.

Your Grace, I think
it's the brick makers.

They come out at night digging
for clay and gravel.

Well, Aristotle said there are some jobs

in which it is impossible for
a man to be virtuous.

You shall catch them for me,
eh, Master Thomas?

With your artillery.

(LAUGHING)

Come, a round, a game! Bryan,
Lady Margaret... Where's Sir John?

Girls, all of you,
do you know Pope July?

DOROTHY: No, Your Grace.
HENRY: Oh, it's a splendid game.

Sir Francis invented it for us,
and no one can say it isn't topical.

Mistress Seymour. Carew,
make room for Mistress Seymour.

Sit next to me, my dear,
and I'll teach it to you.

The points are matrimony,
intrigue, the Pope and the sops.

(RAIN FALLING)

-HENRY: Still raining, is it?
-Yes, Your Grace.

Good night then, Sir Nicholas.
You, too, Edward. And send the lute away.

-Tired, Sir John?
-Me? No, Your Grace.

It's a simple life. I envy you.

-Girls and hunting.
-Will Your Grace require more wine?

-No.
-You go to bed, Stephen.

Girls and hunting.

Girls at Lille ran out to us with
garlands in their hands, remember?

So long ago.

You had a redhead, didn't you?

(CHUCKLING) Yes.
What a woman.

-How she danced.
-Yeah. I hear you've danced again, old man.

-Your Grace?
-With Edward's wife, your son's wife.

Your Grace shames me.

-But it was her doing.
-And mine.

And mine, sir.

I heard that you were not to blame,
but you find them dark, do you?

-Women?
-Yes, sir.

Yes.

-Have the crops been poor here, too?
-Yes.

They say it's rained since More
and Fisher lost their heads.

Superstition, sir. Fisher and
Sir Thomas were traitors.

These last weeks in the marches,

some of them didn't
recognise me in plain clothes.

They blamed the King for their crops.

Or the Queen, or the Queen's daughter,
the bastard Elizabeth.

They hated me, my people.

An old man in Gloucester spoke
of the birth of monsters

and said it was God's punishment
at England's wickedness.

All my sons put away by stealth in
darkness, like things accursed of God.

What is your flesh that can get living sons?

Am I not a man? Am I not a man like you?

You have a son, Your Grace.

Richmond is weak, sickly,
not like yours, not proper issue.

I need a son to succeed me. I've made
pilgrimages, I've prayed for him.

I think God does not mean me to have sons.

Queen Anne may yet be blessed, Your Grace.

You're a good man, Sir John,
but you know nothing.

Oh, it's... It's stopped raining.

-We can go out tomorrow.
-There's some fine boar in Maddle Wood.

We'll ride out early. Sleep first.

(GRUNTING) No dreams.

They say that the Bishop...

That Fisher's head grows
younger on Tower Bridge.

But that's not possible.

(HORSES APPROACHING)

(BUGLE BLOWING)

(SHOUTING)

Hey, hey, hey!

HENRY: Right! MAN: Right!

Your Grace!

(SHOUTING)

(TRUMPET BLOWING)

(SQUEALING)

Go on. Go on.

(SHOUTING)

Aha!

(SQUEALING AND GRUNTING)

Hey!

-Dinner, Your Grace?
-Aye. Dinner.

We caught three boars. Big ones.

-Your father's a lucky man.
-Your Grace.

Very lucky.

I remember you in court, Mistress Seymour,

but before then,
were you ever in a convent?

-Yes, sir.
-Aha, I knew it.

It has left its mark. Humility and duty.

God giveth grace to the humble.

And you're not without grace, mistress.
Why do you always look away?

I was told Your Grace was
averse to being stared at.

Oh!

Honest, too. Hmm.

You were a maid-in-waiting.
Why did you leave the court?

Why, sir, when Queen Catherine...

That is,
when the Princess Dowager retired...

Yes, of course.

(SINGING)

Is there a shrine near here?

No, sir. The people use that lane
on their way into Gloucestershire

and the Abbey of Hailes

to seek absolution from the blood of Christ.

-Oh. You've been there?
-Yes, sir.

-And seen the blood?
-Yes.

I have a vial of our Lord's tears.
It saved me from the plague once, you know.

I'm very afraid of the plague, sir.

Mmm. You are right to be.
So am I.

I always feel better in the country.

They're crowding to Hailes now since they
hear it is to be visited by the commission.

They are afraid for the abbeys,
sir, for their souls.

My commissioners are only
anxious to report abuses.

They are as good Catholics
as you or I, Mistress Jane.

-I meant no criticism, sir. Forgive me.
-I know your meaning.

-Ours is to reform, not to destroy.
-BRYAN: Your Grace!

-The French envoy, Your Grace.
-Oh. Alas, my stay is over.

The French envoy's in London.
I, too, have my duty.

Farewell, little nun.

You once asked if Mistress Seymour
could be returned to court.

Yes, but a match has now been
arranged between her and William Dormer.

Break it.

Hello, Jane.

Anne.

We are pleased to see you return to Greenwich,
mistress. You are made comfortable?

Thank you, Your Grace.

You have not previously
taken the Oath of Allegiance?

I was not required, sir.

It is His Majesty's wish that all
who serve at court now do so.

I understand, sir.

I, Thomas Cranmer, Archbishop of Canterbury
and Chaplain of the Royal House,

do hereby require you, Jane Seymour,
to answer me upon oath.

Do you acknowledge
our gracious Sovereign

as Supreme Head on Earth
of the Church of England?

I do, sir.

Do you allow the Bishop of Rome, or his
servants, to have any authority over you?

No, sir.

Do you acknowledge the legality of our
Sovereign's marriage with Queen Anne?

I do.

Do you acknowledge the annulment
of our Sovereign's former union

with the Lady Catherine,
and the illegitimacy of its issue?

Mistress?

-The Lady Mary?
-The Lady Mary.

I cannot think but she is
the King's true daughter, sir.

-Do you know what you are saying?
-Your Grace.

You stand on oath,
and in grave danger, mistress.

-Are these your words,or another's?
-I speak my own heart.

Who succeeds His
Majesty to the throne?

-The Queen's child.
-Name her.

The Princess Elizabeth.

Then you admit the King's union
with the Lady Catherine invalid,

and the Lady Mary to be no true issue.

To deny this is to allow
the supremacy of the Pope.

To deny this is treason, mistress.

I do not deny
the union invalid, sir.

Then how can there be true issue?

At the Lady Mary's birth
there was true issue, sir.

-Now, Mistress Jane, at the Lady Mary's...
-Enough, Thomas!

-Don't you see she is in ignorance?
-Rise up, little nun.

Now, you are loyal to your old mistress
and her girl, I like that.

-But can you not be loyal to me, too?
-I am, Your Grace.

I am, sir.

We are distantly related, you and I.
Did you know that, Mistress Jane?

I believe so, sir.

Through your mother, who is partly
descended of the royal blood of Edward III.

The College of Arms looked it up
for me. Raise your head.

You cannot be loyal to me and to the Lady Mary.
She is a wilful, disobedient girl.

-Your Grace...
-We are beset by enemies,

France, the Empire. The Pope has charged
them to invade us in the name of Mary

and her mother, in their title.

To support their cause is to support
the enemies of the realm, my enemies.

-Do you understand me now?
-Yes, sir.

Mmm-hmm.

Will you now acknowledge the
Lady Mary to be no true issue?

Swear.

Oh, it's done. Over.

There. Sit down here.

(GENTLE CHUCKLE)

Jane.

Jane.

-Your Grace, I beg your respect.
-Oh, I have plain feelings.

How can I speak to you in a cold frost?

When you were taking the oath,
I wanted to wrap you in my arms.

You cannot, sir.
I am to marry Master Dormer.

Is he to your fancy then, that boy?

-I've never met him.
-No. You have not.

But, in honesty,
Your Grace should not see me alone.

Don't be afraid, I shan't harm you.

So warm and gentle,
I could never harm you.

This is a token of our esteem.

Wear it in loyalty.

(EXCLAIMING)

-Less than wise.
-I beg your...

-A little less than prudent.
-My lady.

But then we must endure hard justice
and bitter blows, mistress.

-Wearing the King's image?
-He gave it to me.

-So we must wear it.
-No one knew of it.

-She knew.
-How could she?

Oh, she sees within the stone
beneath the shadow.

Her marriage night there was
an azurecross against the moon.

-Oh, poor lady, your neck.
-I was startled, madam.

Startled, yes.

Will you forgive me if I offer you
advice, my dear? I think you need it.

Go back to Wiltshire now.
This is no time for you.

The Queen's temper, the Queen's
jealousy could mean your ruin.

You know how the wind lies.

The King is waiting.

If the child's a boy,
she will ride the world again.

If not, you may return.

-Mistress Jane, are you...
-She is unhurt, madam.

And Her Grace must be attended.

Her Grace will be violent
and will have to be controlled.

Remember what I said, my dear.

She said to leave court.
For my own good, go back to Wolf Hall.

I want to, Anne.

I miss them.

I need to do the ordinary things.

-Weigh wool, choose flowers, feel new bread.
-Be patient.

I was wrong to come again.

-Wrong to stay here now.
-You were commanded, Jane.

-And William Dormer?
-He will wait for you.

-Whatever I do here?
-We will ask Edward. He'll know the right course.

Yes.

Shall I ever find such
happiness as you two have?

Dear Jane, I hope so.

For the present, make no decisions,
accept no further gifts.

As for my Lady Rochford,

remember she is still the Queen's
sister-in-law, and her intimate.

(MAN SPEAKING IN LATIN)

ALL: Amen.

We are doing everything in our power,
Your Grace.

My Lord of Canterbury has
most ingeniously proved

that all passages and scripture concerning
the Antichrist refer to the Pope.

-The Bishop of Rome.
-The Bishop of Rome.

And we have shown the people that
secularisation of the monasteries

will relieve their taxation.

-Are you mad, Cromwell?
-A portion of the taxes, of course.

There are close to 400 abbeys,

which will yield Your Gracean
annual revenue of over ?30,000,

in addition to plate,
jewels, bells, lead...

Yes, yes.
But whenshall we see all this?

As soon as the due process of law...

The bill's stuck
in the Commons.

-Has it?
-Temporarily.

A few minor objections,
legal quibbles...

Well, I'll have that bill,
or some of their heads.

They've heard the report
of the commissioners,

that record of corruption.
What's their quibble?

Once and for all,
the monasteries must be put down.

It is merely a question of precedence,
Your Grace.

The degree of guilt, the size of...

(SINGING)

They're crowding to Hailes now since they
hear it is to be visited by the commission.

They are afraid for the abbeys,
sir, for their souls.

My commissioners are only
anxious to report abuses.

They are as good Catholics
as you or I, Mistress Jane.

-I meant no criticism, sir. Forgive me.
-I know your meaning.

Ours is to reform, not to destroy.

...monastic properties, Your Grace.

Hmm?

I said, Your Grace will remember
his promise for the endowment...

Yes, yes. Yes, my curate, but Dover
first, eh? Our defences first.

Are we finished, gentlemen?
This leg of mine...

-Take the footstool.
-Oh, thank you, Owen.

-Still that fall?
-No, no, the other thing.

Buttes thinks it may be an ulcer now.

Your Grace must take greater care of his
health. Our prayers can only do so much...

There's nothing the matter with me,
Archbishop,

that a little healthy exercise cannot cure.

I'm out of condition, that's all.

The King's right. A few days' hunting...

-Are we finished?
-Your Grace,

the French envoy has been asking permission
to visit the Lady Mary again.

Let him do so. Let him make the journey.
She should be locked up during his visit.

Oh, I will no longer live in this constant
fear and suspicion of my own daughter!

She shall write to me,
not to the Emperor!

-But, sir...
-She has, she's been writing to Charles!

I know what goes on behind my back,
and these damn papists

try to spirit her out of the country.

Well, she should be sent to the Tower,
tried and sentenced like any other citizen

that's guilty of treason.
Make out the order and I will sign it!

Your Grace,
I beg you to consider the consequences.

Oh, there's nothing to cry about. I will
not have another Catherine on my hands.

-But, Your Grace...
-Your Grace is, of course, entirely justified,

but rather than risk rebellion
among your people or, indeed,

the danger of interference from outside,

perhaps we should
make one further effort.

I'm sick of effort.

I offer her my friendship, my love.
You'd think with her mother dead...

Give her a good hiding, sir. That's
what I'd do. Girls need a good hiding.

Your Grace, now the Princess Dowager's
influence is removed,

she's a fine girl.

You're too kind, Thomas.

Oh, very well. Howard, you shall arrange
a meeting with her at Hunsdon,

but she must consent to
every one of my statutes,

or I shall proceed against her.
Tell her that.

-Ah, Sir Nicholas, come in.
-Your Grace, my lords.

And how was Greenwich?

The Queen up from her bed yet?
Still moping, I suppose.

Queen Anne takes little part
in affairs there, sir.

She spends most of the day with her dogs,
setting them to fight on each other.

-I can imagine.
-I trust Her Grace's health has improved.

Oh, yes, my lord. A little.

(SIGHING)

Well, there's no need
to detain you, Cranmer.

-Your Grace.
-Or you, cousin.

You'd better take Bishop Samson
when you see my daughter.

And she must admit hermother's marriage
illegaland herself a bastard.

-Nothing less.
-Your Grace.

-Well, how did she look?
-Most charming, sir.

Yes. And her answer?

-Most humble, sir.
-Oh, don't cozen me.

What did Mistress Seymour say?

She received your purse of
sovereigns in the garden, sir.

Yes.

She returned it to the page.

-And my letter?
-She returned.

-Unopened?
-I pray you,

beseech the King to
understand by my prudence

that I am a gentle woman of good and
honour able family, without reproach,

and have no greater treasure
in the world than my honour,

which I would not harm
for a thousand deaths.

If His Grace should wish to
make me a present of money,

I beg him to do sowhen God shall
send me a husband to marry.

(SIGHING)

I like her modesty.
It touches me.

It shows a seemliness.
She reproves us, and rightly,

but what a gentle reproof.

-Eh, my lord?
-Most gentle, sir.

We will show our intentions
equally worthy.

I will not speak to Mistress Seymour in
future, except in the presence of her relations.

I feel better.
I shall ride a little today.

If we are to return to Greenwich
for Easter, we must stir the blood.

Your Grace, I have been considering.

My rooms at Greenwich are far
larger than my present needs.

Would they not be more suitable
for Edward Seymour and his new wife?

But where will you live,
my dear Cromwell?

I can find a room in the friary,
Your Grace.

Well, Master Edward would
be forever grateful to you.

A trifle, sir.

And perhaps, since he will be
in such proximity to Your Grace,

the gentleman should be rewarded for past
services by election to the Privy Chamber?

My thoughts exactly, Cromwell.
My very thoughts.

(HUMMING MERRILY)

Your lordship never ceases
to earn my admiration.

Sir Nicholas, do you know one of
the highest arts of the politician?

It is to devise means by which
sovereigns may gratify their appetites

without appearing to outrage morality.

-Is that the piece?
-Forgive me. I'm not attentive.

I have heard that William Dormer
is to marry Mistress Sidney?

-Within the month.
-Then I think I shall never be married.

-Indeed you may, and higher than young Dormer.
-Don't, please.

There are doubts as to the
legality of the Queen's union.

Well, they say she was previously
betrothed to Northumber land...

(DOOR OPENS)

Edward, my dear.
What's happened?

All hell's broke lose. Forgive me.

The King has insulted the imperial ambassador.
Now Cromwell's breathing fire.

HENRY: I tell you no!

Can the Pope command angels?
He cannot command me!

-The Bishop of...
-The Bishop of Rome

has seen fit to excommunicate me, to
anathematise me and pronounce me unfit to live.

Should I now kiss his ring?

But Your Grace knows that the
new sentence is not yet published.

He threatens it like Damocles' sword! Well,
let him publish, I don't give three straws!

We have not proceeded on such slight
grounds as to alter any part of our doing.

We have laid our foundations on the
law of God, on nature, on honesty,

and we have done so with
the consent of the estate

of the realm in open and
high court of Parliament!

If Your Grace will consider calmly,
he will see that Signor Chapuys...

No, no, no! I will
not sue to the Emperor!

All these years he's done nothing but
stir the Bishop of Rome to do us injuries.

There are still advantages to be gained
by an agreement with him at this time, sir.

And even by an agreement with Rome.

Which would destroy our whole
policy towards the monasteries.

But by making...

Have we proceeded so far in our supremacy
to turn back now? No, by God!

I am an Englishman. I cannot
say one thing when I mean another.

I beg Your Grace not to reject an imperial
alliance merely on a point of etiquette.

-Are you criticising us?
-No, Your Grace.

-You do.
-I do not.

-You reprove our behaviour?
-No, sir. I...

Take care, Cromwell.
No one is indispensable to us.

If Your Grace will allow me,
I will drink a glass of wine.

Have your drink,
but do not criticise your Sovereign.

I was only criticising the value of the
Queen Anne's influence on Your Grace.

It shows small policy,
and less advantage.

-I will not be judged by you, you little man!
-Your Grace.

-Do you hear me?
-Your Grace...

-I will not bejudged by any man!
-Your Grace...

(DOOR SLAMMING)

Oh, that man!

Cromwell!

Wool carter.

Oh, Jane. No, be still.
I need your honesty.

I am a simple man, Jane, easily baffled.
Their minds turn me.

-Your Grace is much misunderstood, I think.
-You understand me.

-I think so, sir.
-I only wish to govern my subjects in my own way.

Your brother said you had not been well.

The river mists.
I have taken cold, sir.

Well, they should keep fires.
I will send you a gown, a woollen one.

-No, sir, I thank you.
-A gown, Jane.

A plain thing.
You'd take it from a friend.

Your Grace, I would leave court.

-And if I will not let you?
-You must, sir.

-Bound to obey and serve, isn't that your motto?
-I must obey my conscience.

We all must.

But to leave us?

I would not come between
Your Grace and his wife.

Jane, God is making
all things plain to me.

I was seduced into this marriage
by witchcraft. Do you know that?

A woman wedded in the power
of devils is no lawful wife,

and that is why I cannot
have a son.

It was a son, sir,
that was born dead.

-And now she blames me for it.
-No, it was my fall that frightened her.

I have heard otherwise. So let me go,
sir, before I call God's judgement on us.

Jane, it was she who urged Fisher's
death, and Sir Thomas More's.

It was she whoplotted Catherine's
murder, and now young Mary's...

-And I would not be hers!
-No, no.

A pension in the country?
Life abroad? She always favoured France.

-But if I were gone?
-Her rule wouldstill be ended.

-When I was young, I did a fearful thing.
-You?

I let one of my sisters visit a house
where there was poverty and pestilence.

I should have gone.
I made her go instead.

That night a spot appeared on her face.
Then two. Dark, horrible.

I lived in awe for her.
I had no will. I was in darkness.

The hours passed while we waited,
and she recovered.

It was some...Some childish ailment.

But I knew then the terror
of being out of grace,

the indecision, the disorder.
And I know it now.

-Have you received your Maker?
-Yes.

-And made confession?
-Yes.

-Will you see my confessor?
-Gladly, sir.

And will you trust me, Jane?

-Yes, sir.
-Yes, yes.

In obedience, you are free.

Come to the cross.

Kneel, Jane.

-Almighty God, grant us Thy servants...
-Grant us Thy service...

-the knowledge of Thy grace.
-the knowledge of Thy grace.

-Restore our will.
-Restore our will.

-Our good order.
-Our order.

-Give us to choose a right.
-Give us to choose a right.

Give us to know the
righteousness of our actions.

Give us to know the
righteousness of our actions.

-And bless us, God, in Thy sight forever. Amen.
-Bless us in Thy sight. Amen.

(LAUGHTER)

My lords, ladies, to the King's health.

-The King.
-The King.

Ah, fine supper, Sir Nicholas.
Wish I could steal your cook.

I'm glad it met with Your Grace's approval.
I stole him from you, my Lord of Norfolk!

Nicholas, they've not elected
you to the Garter for nothing.

-Lady Exeter.
-Splendid occasion, and timely, very timely.

Here, leave the wine.
You may withdraw.

Sir.

Oh, my Lord Bishop, would you...

(PRAYING IN LATIN)

Amen.

Now to our business.
What's this about Cromwell?

He hasn't been seen for five days.

-Taken to his bed.
-After the unfortunate affair at Greenwich.

So, Crom's blotted his copybook
at last, eh?

Well, it's hardly surprising,
if you eat cherries with your superiors,

you must expect to get
the stones in your eyes.

He's clever though, my Lord Cromwell.
He'll find his way back somehow.

Well, I suppose we're...We're quite
certain ofthe King's inclination?

Oh, yes. Mistress Jane's all plain song.
He has no ear forother music now.

You must take care she does not
prejudice your cause, Master Seymour.

She's well instructed,
Your Ladyship.

Surely the only real problem is
how to get rid of the night crow?

-The what?
-The great whore.

His Grace is making discreet
reference to the Queen, Bishop.

My niece, Boleyn. Damn rude whore.

Cromwell's the difficulty,
as long as she's got him.

Yes, if Cromwell trims his sails now,
as he's likely to,

he could be morethan dangerous.

These new men, Cromwell, Audley.
You never know what they're planning.

No background, that's why.
No breeding.

And there's my Lord of Canterbury.

-Oh, Cranmer's quite good family.
-Mmm?

Cranmer?

He'll do whatever the King and Cromwell
require of him. That's why he's where he is.

Do I detect a note of rancour, Bishop?

(CHUCKLES)

Does Your Ladyship approve of
this new learning? Cranmer's doing.

Or the sermons that she hears?

All these books circulating against
the holy imagesand our blessed saints.

Cranmer again. Now he's bent on
this new translation of the Gospel.

-Full of heresy, believe me, Your Ladyship.
-Oh, I do, Bishop,

but I still can't believe in Latin as the
only language the devil doesn't understand.

Well, I thank my God I never knew what
the Old or the New Testament meant.

-There's too many bookworms...
-Yes?

My Lord Cromwell is here, sir.

-Here?
-Yes, sir, at the gate.

Talk of the devil.
What's he doing here?

The man has an agent in every house.

Is there a way out through the garden?

Sir Nicholas. Your Ladyship. Your Grace.
A pleasure as always. Lady Rochford.

My dear Gardiner.
A brief trip from Paris, I take it?

-Yes. Just a day or two.
-His Majesty is delighted with your dispatches,

in case you have not yet
paid him your attendance.

-Master Seymour.
-My lord.

All gathered together, eh?

You will forgive my joining your little
celebration so unexpectedly, Sir Nicholas,

but I felt I must come at this
moment to offer you my felicitations.

Yes. The Knights could
not have chosen better.

Some people expected your husband
to be elected, Lady Rochford,

but I thought to myself,

"No, no. It will be Sir Nicholas."

One of my hunches. I am seldom wrong.

-Would you be pleased to join us, my lord?
-Thank you.

-A glass of wine, sir.
-The very thing.

It's absolutely freezing on the river.

Yes. Very cold for the season.

We had heard your lordship had
not been in the best of health?

Oh, a trifle indisposed, Lady Exeter,
but fortunately my disposition is such

that I am now completely recovered
and so I cameto join your revels.

I am at your service.

Did you doubt it? Come, now. You each
have good reason for being here,

-you must allow me mine.
-Oh, this is intolerable.

Pray, be seated, Your Grace.
We're quite alone.

I have no armed men or
witnesses at the door.

Ah.

This nut. You desire to eat it.

So, you must first break the shell.
But how?

Between the fingers?
They are not strong enough.

I could, of course, rub the shell,

slowly, gradually wear it away.
I would eventually succeed.

But I am hungry. I am very hungry.

I would be famished long
before I ever reached the fruit.

And so...

The secret, my friends, is force,
and knowing how to apply that force...

to the shell's weakness,
the protection of its heart.

Is there not a danger,
my lord, that too much force

may destroy the fruit in your walnut?

Not if it is applied correctly, madam.

You have all been busy rubbing away,

trumping up pre-engagements between
Queen Anne and Northumberland.

It won't signify. There are only two charges
that will stick, treason and adultery.

But, my lord, surely some lesser
indictment carrying a lesser penalty?

I know his mind, his conscience.
You do not.

Nothing else signifies.

May I say, we have long
needed Your Lordship.

You wish to see your sister crowned
Queen of England, Master Seymour?

Leave it to me.
I am an old hand at it.

(DRUM ROLL)

(CHURCH BELLS RINGING)

(PRAYING IN LATIN)

MARY: My most dear Father
and Sovereign,

I have this day perceived
your gracious clemency

to have overcome my most
unnatural proceedings.

My poor heart, I send unto Your
Highness, to remain in your hand,

and I will never vary from that
submission I made to Your Highness

in the presence of the Council.

I pray God preserve you, and
Jane the Queen, and send you issue.

Your wholly respectful daughter, Mary.

(SIGHING) Yes.

But is she honest? I hate dissemblers.

-If she is writing to Charles behind my back...
-I'm sure she isn't, sir.

-Can you not forgive her now?
-How do I know her mind?

She's been forced into this by the Council,
by Cromwell, by your letters,

and quite possibly at the advice
of her own party, to save her life.

She's always been obstinate and
disobedient, it's her Spanish blood.

How can I believe her?

Because she's your daughter,
sir, and you need her.

And then there are the feelings
of your people to consider.

-(SIGHING) Yes, they worry for her.
-Yes.

(GROANS)

(GASPING)

-No, no, it's nothing. It's this leg again.
-Shall I rub it for you?

No, but stay here.

You know, Jane, you are a fool.

You ought to seek the
advancement of the children

we'll have between us, not any others.

Why should you care for the Lady Mary?

-I think of her alone and in tears.
-Nonsense. Mary never cries.

-They say she's as hard as nails now.
-I think she must cry, sir.

Not knowing how to keep her honour,
and Your Grace's goodwill. If only...

When she places her honour
before my... Never mind.

-If only.
-If you could bring her back to court.

Do you think she'd thank you for it?
Or that you could influence her?

I think so, sir. I hope so.

For 10 years now...

Go on.

For 10 years she's lived unnaturally,
spending her youth in bitterness and anger.

I think she needs
Your Grace's love now.

How kind you are, Jane.
I've never known a kinder soul.

(CHUCKLING)

If you had your way, my little nun,
all the villains in the country would go free.

-Yes, they'd all be pardoned.
-Mmm.

-But I should makea very poor ruler, sir.
-Mmm-hmm.

-I'd even believe in Louis' horse.
-Louis of France?

Why, yes, it's an old story
my brother Thomas tells.

-I was sure Your Grace had heard it.
-No, but you tell me, Jane.

You know I love a good story,
and I always like listening to you.

-I can nevertell stories, sir.
-Try. Come on.

I insist. No, I don't insist,
but it would please me.

Well, then... Oh, dear.

It concerns a thief whom Louis
condemned to death, some criminal.

-Yes, yes?
-And this man, to save his life,

said that within a year, he could
make Louis' favourite horse talk.

(HENRY CHUCKLES)

"But that's impossible,"
says a friend of the thief.

"Be silent, you fool," says the man.
"For within a year, Louis may die,

"or the horse may die, or I may
die, or the horse may talk."

Oh, Jane!

That's wonderful!

Or the horse may talk!

-Forgive me, Your Grace.
-Yes?

Lord Cromwell is asking to
see youon a matter of urgency.

Send him in.
Or the horse may talk!

Your Highnesses will forgive my intrusion.

-What is it, Cromwell?
-A messenger from York, Your Grace.

-There has been an incident in the city.
-An incident?

An armed rising, sir.
Thankfully of little magnitude.

They haven't touched
our tax commissioners?

-No, sir. The Lieutenant is in control.
-Well, how did it happen?

At the performance of a religious ceremony,
I believe.

It's those damn papists again.
Forgive me, my dear.

-Is the messenger here?
-Yes, Your Grace, but...

No, no, no. I can manage.
You keep the Queen company.

Get her to tell you about Louis' horse.

(LAUGHS)

It is of no consequence, my lord.

What is of consequence to me, madam,

is that I should still be
regarded kindly by Your Highness.

As indeed you are, my lord.

Yet, I cannot avoid thinking
that Your Highness

has looked upon me of
late with some disfavour.

I am glad of this opportunity
of seeing her alone.

But Your Lordship knows me
for his constant admirer.

You are naturally discreet, madam.
I like that. I also am discreet.

Your Grace, perhaps, is displeased
that her coronation is postponed?

No, my lord. I would rather go uncrowned
than risk the plague in London.

All our subjects know you
for their Queen, madam.

Do they, sir?

-This incident at York...
-A pinprick.

Your Lordship has surely
considered it may be on behalf

of the distressed monksand friars?

-Ah, now we have it.
-The clergy who have lost their houses, or rather...

-Yes?
-You will forgive my plain speech.

Say it, say it.

The men and women you have
caused to be evicted, my lord.

Parliament, madam. Not your servant,
nor the King, but Parliament.

And whose servant is Parliament, my lord?

The clergy have been compensated
by Court of Exchequer, madam.

A new gown and 40 shillings?

Your Grace would defend
these strongholds of popery?

I was ever taught that Church
property is to be held sacred.

No, madam. For King Henry V
confiscated many priories in his time.

Alien priories, my lord,
whose money he devoted

to the schoolsand to the monasteries.

You have been at the history books,
madam. You're too clever for me.

But seriously, isn't it better to support
the head of our Church and his necessities

than to support the sloth and
wickedness of these monks?

If you had seen these monks
and friars as I have

in hospitals, in prisons,
among the poor,

wherever there is danger and
a total absence of reward,

you would not call them
wicked or slothful.

And even if the King requires
this revenue,

yet half the land is being
given to his friends.

Of course, madam, we must have their goodwill.
They are the King's right hand, his armour.

(SIGHS)

Oh, madam. I am so besieged by
petitioners, you would scarce believe it.

Why, only this week, two manors in
Wiltshire, and the lands adjoining,

were granted to your brother Edward.

You see, madam, how we are all powerless
against the realities of change and State.

But any other service.

-There is one.
-Name it, madam.

The Lady Mary.
You have advised her well.

Now advise the King. Persuade him,
if you will, to bring her back to court.

-It will not be easy.
-No.

But as you yourself have said, my lord,
"A few words from a man of the world

"are worth volumes of philosophers'."

(DOOR OPENING)

It was the papists,
and they will pay for it.

My lord, I have come to a decision.

At least, the Queen has helped me to it.

If the Lady Mary will write to the Emperor
Charles, fully acknowledging my statute,

-we will fetch her back to court.
-Oh!

Madam, I must correct myself forthwith.

A few words from a great lady are
worth volumes from worldly men.

The Lady Mary, Your Grace.

Your blessings, Sire.

Welcome.

My child.

-Your Highness.
-Welcome, Mary.

Some of you wanted me to
put this jewel to death.

That were great pity to have lost
your chiefest jewel of England.

HENRY: Physician!

(CHATTERING)

HENRY: Help her. Help her.

Why should she swoon?

HENRY: Ah, Doctor, help us.
Recover her for us.

Is she ill, do you think?
She looks deathly ill.

Wouldn't you, Bishop, if you'd just denounced
your mother andowned yourself a bastard?

Well, she's terrified.
She has learnt to mistrust flattery.

Ah, yes, and then the stink
of all these Lutherans.

Really, Bishop.

Give us air, give us air. She must
walk to restore the circulation.

And there's nothing to fear, my child.
We're all delighted to see you here.

-My confessor?
-Yes, yes, by all means.

-But he's imprisoned.
-We'll let him out.

You shall have all your old servants
about you again,

Mary Fynche, Randal Dodd and the old man
who grew your strawberries, what's his name?

-Oh, Thomas Crabtree.
-Yes, a splendid old man.

-Remarkable. Quite remarkable.
-Isn't Cromwell playing a dangerous hand?

My dear fellow,
it's the Queen who's playing it,

and she doesn't even know
the name of the game.

-I'll lay 50 crowns that she wins.
-Done.

Yes, you're a very good and obedient girl
to write to Charles as you did.

-You didn't write to him apart from that, did you?
-No.

-You haven't ever written to him?
-Never.

I believe you. And by God's great
mercy, you escaped the hands

of that damned, poisonous strumpet,
Mistress Boleyn.

We shan't lose you from us again.
Shall we, madam?

-No, sir.
-You shall come to Greenwich with us.

You always liked it there, didn't you?
And you liked to ride, I remember.

You will go riding with
the Queen at Greenwich.

Holy Mother, forgive me.

I gulled you, I... I'm too weak,
I betrayed you.

Forgive me. Forgive me, Holy Mother.

Forgive me.

MAN: Whoa!

-Tom, you're home!
-Hey!

Your Ladyship.

Yes, I came through Wiltshire.

-How were they all?
-Father and Mother still the same,

but he's been poorly this month.

Dorothy says it's her turn,
and she'll be married next year,

-but you don't know who.
-(CHUCKLING) My little sister.

I believe we must
congratulate you, Master Seymour,

on being appointed to the Privy Chamber.

Not only that, ma'am.
I'm to lead the revels.

Tom.

HENRY: Christ in heaven.

First Lincoln, and now this!
30,000 of them.

They're lighting beacons
across the hills.

But they say they have no quarrel with
Your Grace, only with the Council.

I have never yet read or heard that
Prince's councillors should be appointed

by rude and ignorant and common
people, have you, madam?

-No, sir.
-Don't we know,after 28 years,

how to govern our kingdom? Oh, they
presume. The commons of Yorkshire.

Yorkshire, the last place God made.
Do they think they're north of the law?

Well, my Lord of Norfolk shall show them.
He may be a fool, but he's a good soldier.

He shall deal with Master
Robert Aske and his followers.

Be merciful, sir. They bear
Christ's banner, his wounds...

Oh, yes. They make a holy cause of it.

-If you would onlyhear their petitions.
-Their demands!

What are you trying to say, hmm?

I beg you, sir, by the deep love
I bear you, I beg you to restore the abbeys.

This can only be God's judgement
for putting them down.

God and my conscience are on
perfectly good terms, madam,

and if you wish to follow Mistress Boleyn's
end, you will not meddle in my affairs.

You have not yet been crowned,
madam. Get up!

-Forgive me, sir.
-You are allignorant of the truth,

but neither you nor any man can make
me doubt the justice of our cause!

Would Parliament have
voted against the abbeys

if they'd been of benefit
to the country?

And yet when the report of
the commissioners was read to them,

there was a huge cry of
"Down with the Church!"

The Church for which I am
responsible in the eyes of God,

was now suspicious and abominable.

Are you afraid to speak
because I threatened you?

-No, sir.
-Then you are determined to spite me.

Will you admit that I am right
and you are wrong?

-Yes, sir.
-Meaning "No, sir".

I know lip service when I hear it. Do you
know what you support, madam? Do you?

Prelates who build their
great houses with alms money,

who squander endowments, cut down
woods for profit, pawn their plate.

Their business is the cure of souls,
and service often is not observed

because the priest is
following his pleasure.

We found cases of coining,
madam, coining, in a monastery.

Sacred vessels melted into sovereigns.

Yes.

And far worse things, I assure you,
which I will not mention for modesty's sake,

except that your convents
were not exempt from these.

So, curb your enthusiasm with
a bridle of reason, madam,

because Christianity and not monkery
is to be the religion of this land!

Do you know the
second commandment, madam?

Thou shalt not take the name...

That is the third, a natural mistake,

seeing the Bishop of Rome
expunged the second some time ago.

It is "Thou shalt not make unto
thee any graven image". God's law.

And everywhere the worship of
saints and images and relics

has led to nothing but dishonesty,
to trumpery!

Believe me, Cromwell's men found more
pieces of the True Cross in England

than would make one whole one.

Thomas Becket has two skulls, madam.

Oh, yes. One in church,
the other in his grave.

There's your monks for you, your relics.
The Holy Rood of Grace. You've heard of it.

Its lips and eyes move at
the approach of votaries.

Springs and wheels, madam, springs
and wheels, a mechanical contrivance.

Will you still maintain
the purity of your abbeys?

Very well.
I'll show you a thing.

My Lord Cromwell thought
it might interest me.

Recognise it, madam? You should.

It comes from Hailes,
madam, in Gloucestershire.

Your blood of Christ.
You look at it. You look!

You don't see anything,
do you? Not yet.

Perhaps you've not paid
for absolution.

But spend your coins and presto, there.

Now you have it. You are absolved.

Except that it is the blood of a duck.
Mmm. Which the monks renew once a week.

Will you still make a god
of the Pope's creatures, madam?

Oh...

Forgive me, I...

Oh, I meant not to show it.

Oh, don't cry. I'm a rough man,
rough temperament.

I've frightened you. Forgive me.

No. I am bound to obey
and serve you, sir.

-Oh, is it so hard?
-(SOBBING) No.

Don't make me doubt, Jane.
Don't. I'm frightened then.

It's as if I'm possessed.
I don't know what I'm saying,

except that I have to strike,
and I'll use anything at hand.

Oh, where can I hide myself?

Jane.

Jane...

Am I ill, perhaps, in my mind?

-Am I?
-No.

-You're only tired and need to rest.
-(WHISPERING) Tired.

Rest if I could.

I feel so old, and first
we have toput down these rebels.

Oh, Jane.

If only we'd met before.

For I doubt now we
will have any children.

(MUSIC PLAYING)

(GROANING)

Prinkham, prankham!

(CHEERING)

(CLAPPING)

Oh...

(LAUGHING AND CHEERING)

(BELLS JINGLING)

(ALL LAUGHING)

He's dead. Father.

Died last week.

HENRY: Jane!

-My Lord of Canterbury, madam.
-Come in, my lord.

I could not leave Hampton Court without
paying my devotions to Your Highness.

That was kind of you. And you
must be busy with convocation.

Convocation, madam, is at this minute of less
importance than the mother of our future heir.

-Your Highnesskeeps good health?
-So I am assured, sir.

-And has all she needs?
-I'm very spoilt, my lord.

I venture to express a desire for quail

and a cloud of birds descend on us
from all parts of the kingdom.

But Your Grace must be careful, though.

A surfeit of game can prove
dangerous to a delicate constitution.

-I'm quite strong, sir, really.
-EDWARD: This way, this way.

-Edward.
-Your Grace.

My Lord Bisham.

The King wants you to know
he chose these himself.

-Aren't they lovely, Archbishop?
-Glorious, madam.

-The trial is over then?
-Yes.

And they're all condemned. All the rebels.
Lord Darcy is condemned, and Robert Aske.

But the King pardoned him.
I saw him at Greenwich.

I was there when he gave his promise.

His Grace showed me
your new edition of the

Bishop's Book.
He seemed greatly taken with it.

It should rightly be called
the King's Book, my lord.

-For His Highnessrevised most of it himself.
-Yes, I know.

He said you criticised
his theology and his grammar.

His Grace knows mefor a great polemicist.

I was glad the book admitted purgatory, sir,

and that prayers assist
the dead.

Within moderation, madam, a single
Mass is deemed most sufficient.

Yes. It were a sorry thing if
the dead were not to be prayed for.

His Grace and I are only anxious to
secure an uniformity of religion, madam,

according to the word of God.

Now, these are troublous times.

May God be with Your Highness
and keep her safely.

It is unfortunate
that the plague has been

so virulent as to delay.
Your Highness' coronation.

As soon as Your Highness
is abroad from her confinement.

These branches should be sprinkled
with vinegar, my lord.

It's a sure remedy
against the pestilence.

Ah, at Lambeth, they die at my gate,
poor souls. Even in the next house.

(DOOR CLOSES)

I know my Lord Cranmer
is the kindest man,

but why can he never leave
without mention of the plague?

Oh, but I am glad you're out of it.
Come, sit here.

-So Anne is with child, too?
-Yes.

-You must be pleased.
-Yes.

Now we must give you sons.

The King says a son is worth more to
him than all the wealth of the Church.

I think he's never been
so hopeful or so happy.

Did you see our arms and initials
carved at the chapel door?

Yes.

You're frightened, Jane. Why?

-Of the plague? I've always...
-No, not the plague. You've...

I don't know. We talk so little now,

but you've lost something
of your calm, a stillness.

When we were young, what a brood
we were, romping about the house.

You hardly spoke,
yet if one of us was in trouble,

we always came to your quiet hands.

-Am I responsible, Jane?
-For what, Edward, dear?

Oh, you know. You know.
I've climbed high.

From the Privy Chamber to the Council,

-and on your shoulders.
-No, on your own merits.

And I've been proud of you. I am proud.
You're a great man, Edward.

Greater than Cromwell because
you're scrupulous. You are.

Perhaps I'm a little sorry that
we no longer agree about the Church,

that you accept the destruction
of the abbeys.

And yes, I am afraid. But you
are not to blame, my dear.

-Do you fear childbirth?
-No.

-The King?
-No.

What, then?
Jane, let me help you.

I think no one can.

I have sought my confessor.
I have done penance.

I've asked God's forgiveness
over and over and over again.

I've prayed for it,
begged for it.

I kneel till my legs and knees
are raw and my body fails me.

I receive absolution
a hundred times and still...

I have no waking or sleeping
moment when I am at peace.

In Christ's name, Jane,
what is this fear?

Of her. The Queen.

The Boleyn?

-She was innocent.
-Jane.

Two grand juries and 27 peers
found her guilty. She was guilty.

Was she? I have heard...

it was false witness.
And it was mortal sin!

Don't you understand?

I should be punished and I'm rewarded!

Is this my punishment?
To receive none?

I don't know, you see.

Oh, Edward, dear,
I'm in such dark!

There's no order any more.

No grace, no order.

Nothing.

(MAN SPEAKING LATIN)

ALL: Amen.

God, in His almighty and infinite grace,

grant good life and long
to the Right High,

Right Excellent and noble Prince Edward,
Duke of Cornwall and Earl of Chester,

most dear and entirely beloved son

of our most dread and gracious lord,
Henry VIII.

(FANFARE)

(CHOIR SINGING IN LATIN)

Thank God you have come, my lord.

We've urged His Grace to accept
God's pleasure in taking the Queen,

-and comfort himself in the Prince, but...
-Where is the King?

He rides out alone, three days now.
Says he can't bear to visit the chapel.

You've fumbled it, all of you.
What he needs is a new wife.

-God's blood, Cromwell.
-HENRY: My lords.

-Good day to Your Grace.
-Oh, it's you, Crom.

We're sad company here, I'm afraid. Even
my horse is lame. I had to bring him in.

-Nothing too serious, sir?
-No.

There's a body hanging on the bridge
by the river. See it cut down.

See them all down through out
the land, in case of plague.

Nothing must touch my son.
Have you seen him yet?

-Yes, sir.
-He'll live, won't he?

My son. He has to live,
or there's no reason any more.

Everything must be carefully
planned for his governance.

I want his food tasted.

They say the Dauphin was poisoned.

We will lay down stringent laws,
Your Grace.

In the meantime, I would urge Your Grace
to think of providing for a new wife.

-You mock me.
-Indeed not, sir.

You mock me, Cromwell.

Don't rub too sore on my wounds.
I shall never marry again.

-But we must consider that the child is weak, sir.
-No!

No.

The whole Council urges you to entertain
the good of the country, sir.

And remember, there will be much
less danger to the Prince

from other sources if
he had younger brothers.

At least frame your mind
to be impartial, sir.

And therefore I would urge Your Majesty
to consider the Duke of Cleves' daughter.

I said not now!

And a Protestant, Cromwell,
we must keep a balance.

A French or imperial alliance, perhaps.

In that case, sir, the French Princess

would be well-qualified to console
Your Majesty in his deep affliction.

But not now!

-Princess Madeleine?
-Yes, Your Majesty.

-Or there's Marie de Guise.
-Already spoken for by your nephew, James, sir.

Oh, does that matter?
Yes, perhaps.

On the Emperor's side?

-Christine of Denmark, sir.
-Oh, yes. She used to be the Duchess of Milan.

-She has dimples.
-Has she?

I still prefer Marie de Guise,
or this Madame de Longueville.

I'm big in person, I need a big wife.

For the good of the country.
But nothing immediate.

-You understand.
-Of course, sir.

Your Grace, my Lord of Hartford,

his tender zealto his subjects

has already overcome
His Majesty's disposition.

(CHOIR SINGING)

-You look ill, Mary.You're so pale.
-My teeth hurt me, sir.

How long have you been in chapel?
Day and night, I suppose.

Oh, we must get a tooth drawer for you.

We'll take a new nail
and make the gum bleed.

Remember what you
used to say as a child?

"Jesus Christ, for Mary's sake,
take away my toothache."

Cromwell...

-I forgot to inform youof the Queen's last wishes.
-Yes, sir?

She asked at the end that 1,200 masses
be said for her soul in the city.

But that is my Lord Cranmer's concern.

Her other desire,
which of course we must fulfil,

will be your responsibility,
my lord, as Vicar General.

The founding of a Benedictine
abbey for her at Bisham.

You see, my lord, Louis may die,
or the horse may die,

or I may die,

but the horse may talk.

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