01x06 - Catherine Parr

[bunniefuu]

Yes, yes.

(MOANING)

(LAUGHING)

Good, fool, am I now
supposed to entertain you?

Aye, Your Majesty. For fools we both are.
Though which is the greater, God knows.

-No riddles, Will.
-A problem of theology, sire.

Who will fail to pass St Peter's muster?
The King's fool or a foolish king?

-Am I being foolish, Will?
-The question is, Cousin Hal, will you be foolish?

Oh! Hold your tongue, fellow.
You're losing your wit with age.

I have wit enough to keep my head

and fool enough to hope for
Your Majesty's continuing love.

Be not afraid of her, Will.

This one shan't drive you from
my side. No, no, no. Get up.

It makes my knees ache to see you there.

-Get up and see who's outside.
-Aye, Your Majesty.

HENRY: Will!

Who's there, Will?

Two black crows, a peacock or two,
sundry sparrows and a dove.

-Bring in the dove.
-Aye, Your Majesty.

(SIGHING)

Hal, here is the dove.

-What say you?
-My Lady Latimer, Your Majesty.

Madam.

By St Mary, madam. Must I talk
to the top of your head?

Oh, I'd forgotten.
I'd forgotten you're beautiful.

If I am, Your Majesty,
I cannot believe you would forget.

If you have forgotten, it's because
I'm not, nor ever was beautiful.

Nay, madam. Any maid
can be called beautiful.

You have a proper beauty.
A maturity of form and feature.

How old are you?

Old enough, Your Majesty, to know that
I must accept maturity as a compliment,

and be grateful to those
that acknowledge it.

You...

You have no children?

-None, sire.
-Oh.

-Two husbands and yet no children.
-No, sire.

-They were old men, is it? They were old men.
-Oh, they were good men, sire.

-But old.
-Yes, sire.

I... I knew your father,
didn't I? Sir...

-Sir Thomas Parr of...
-Of Kendal, sire.

He was master of the wards
in Your Majesty's youth.

Yes, I remember.
A stiff-necked Pope Catholic.

And what think you of Rome, madam?

It is the headspring of
all pride, Your Majesty.

-The seat of vainglory, hypocrisy and ambition.
-Oh, they've taught you well.

Was it Cranmer or
those damned Seymours?

I hope the spirit of God has led me to
a proper knowledge of the truth, sire.

Don't be pert with me, madam.

Such a body should not house
a sanctimonious cleric.

As Your Majesty pleases,
I answered honestly.

-And I'll hear no ill said of the Pope.
-No, sire.

As he will tolerate no slander on me.

(LAUGHING)

(COUGHS)

No, madam. I jested.
Doesn't it amuse you?

That the Pope does in fact
slander Your Majesty, no.

Get out!

-THOMAS: Good morrow, fool.
-Good morrow, Sir Thomas Seymour.

What would you do for a crown?

I'd put it on my master's head or in
my purse. Which are you offering, sir?

If your tongue wags to my humour,
I'll fill your purse with crowns.

Oh, well said. I can sing a song,
tell a story...

What says the King to my Lady Latimer?

I'd give you a crown if I had it, sir.
You're the better hand at jesting.

-Master Somers,do you hear my question?
-I abdicate.

Only the greatest fool in Christendom
would think of cutting the

throat of the King's fool.

-Are you mad, Thomas?
-Enough to let a little sawdust out of this rogue.

My Lord Hertford, will you ask your brother
to take his toothpick from my throat?

Thomas!

Master Somers, say nothing of this.

For you, my lord.
And remembering your sister.

-Don't speak of her, you rogue.
-Why not, sir?

Her late Majesty, the Lady Jane, was
gentle with such fools as the King and I,

and we loved her. May I go, my lord?

Thank you, Will.

Must you always be play-acting?
Gardiner and Rochester were watching.

-Let them watch a man.
-You may not have her.

Not now. Don't you know that?

Do you think I'm some country
swain full of jealous spite?

Of course I may not. She must marry him.

Why did you marry them?

It was my father's wish, sire.

Oh, and to his exchequer's credit,
no doubt.

Was it only duty, madam?
Well, did you love them?

-They were kind to me.
-Kindness warms no bed at night.

-Did you pity them?
-Oh no, sire.

-Do you pity me? Am I as old as they were?
-No, sire.

Yet I am old, madam.
Look at my legs. Look at them.

They're gross, madam. Look at them.
They're monuments of filth.

In summer, they stink like a byre.

-Do you pity me?
-No, sire.

-What colour is my hair? My beard?
-Sire.

It was red like copper.

-Am I old?
-No, sire.

-Am I fat?
-No, sire.

Madam, have you no stomach
for the truth?

Get up, madam. Get up. Nay, madam.

Cate.

Sweet Cate, do not weep.

No, no, we must stay down here.

Once I get down, it takes half
my guard to set me on my feet again.

-As Your Majesty pleases.
-Don't dress in these weeds, Cate.

Dress in brave colours. Gold and scarlet.
And green and silver when we hunt.

Two old dotards, and now...

Has your body never ached
for some young stripling?

Or has one gone before me? His name, madam?
By heaven, I'll know his name.

-I'll not be betrayed again.
-No, sire. I betrayed no one.

Cate, I could woo a woman
once with words like syrup

and be more in love with them
than I was with her.

-Cate, I'm lonely.
-No, sire.

Do not "No, sire" me.

You're twice widowedand you
don't know what it is to be lonely?

Yes, I know, my lord.

Fourteen months I've been alone.
I've no time to waste.

An hour is a second, a week a day.
Madam, my knees ache.

You must help me get
this mountain to its feet again.

Strong!

My chair, madam.

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

A cup of wine, madam?

There are matters...

touching my person, madam.
I must ask you again.

-Are you a Pope Catholic? -No, sire.

And yet I've heard otherwise.
In your youth, you were.

I loved darkness better than light,
Your Majesty.

I called superstition godliness
and true holiness, error.

I would have the Bishop
of Rome my friend again.

-You know that?
-Yes, sire.

Yes, Cate.

His friend, not his subject.

What are the duties of a wife, madam?

To learn from St Paul that
she must beobedient to her husband,

to keep silent in public
and learn fromher husband at home.

And the husband, what are his duties?

He must love his wife, sire,
as he does his own body,

as Christ lovedthe congregation
and gave himself for it.

And if the husband is a king?

The king is God's anointed, sire.
These virtues must be pre-eminent in him.

-Do you mock me, madam?
-No, sire.

Then you make dry dust of marriage.
What of the flesh?

We shouldn't be so carnal that we run
head long after desire, Your Majesty,

-like colts without snaffle or bridle.
-They must have been old men.

Well, it's certain you're no Pope
Catholic. You talk like Cranmer.

And His Grace is a saintly man.

Aye, and a brave one.
He'll need to be both.

Bishop Winchester and the others
will burn him if they can,

as he'd be pleased to burn them.

I burn in the fires which lesser men
light to warm their ambition.

Fight wars to make them rich.

Hertford whips the Scots
and empties my purse.

I can fill it again by fighting
the French for the Pope,

and if I win, he may call himself a liar
and graciously admit that I am no adulterer.

Am I an adulterer, madam?

-No, sire.
-But? What is your "but"?

Oh, my lord...

Well, come on, speak out. You were
full enough of pious dogma just now.

-My lord, I do not see your children in court.
-My children?

They say you have put aside the
Lady Mary and the Lady Elizabeth

because the sight of them troubles you.

-They say? Who says?
-It is said, my lord.

I love my daughters.

I'll bring them back,
Cate, if you will mother them.

Sire.

Oh, by our lady, madam, are we
playing tennis? Will you marry me?

-Well, madam, you knew that I would ask you.
-Yes, sire.

I told Cranmer to prepare you
and the Bishop Winchester.

-They prayed with me, sire.
-Oh, God, did it need praying over?

-We must be led bythe spirit of God, sire.
-Aye, so you've said.

And to what conclusion did
the spirit of God lead you?

Well, madam?

That rather than marry you,
I would submit to being your mistress.

She amuses him.
I hadn't taken her for a wit.

A comic wit that may
laugh us into the Tower.

No, no, no, Wriothesley.
She means no harm.

She's their creature.
Cranmer and the Seymours.

She'll warm the King's bed
nonetheless for that.

If the sap rises, we may get him
into armour in the field.

The Emperor wouldn't cavil at the source
of such vigour, would he, Chapuys?

My Lord Bishop of Winchester,
I told you, the compact is what matters.

If your king invades France with my master,

then His Imperial Majesty will persuade
His Holiness to accept the divorce of Aragon.

And you may yet be a cardinal.

I labour not inmy own vineyard.

-I don't trust her.
-My Lord Chancellor, she's a good woman.

A good woman? Then why does
Thomas Seymour desire her?

-Oh, is it a secret?
-From the King, yes. And must be kept so.

You labour deviously in that vineyard.

Gardiner, we are fools to
encourage the King in this.

-Tell him about Seymour and scotch them all.
-And so we would be fools.

She's pious and blameless and
answers her own conscience.

And she's more valuable to us as the King's
wife than some you'd have thrust before him.

Yes, sir, she is.
Can you not see that?

I can see Hertford's
ambition behind her piety,

-and Cranmer's heresy.
-As in your honest custom, sir, you see all,

and understand nothing.

She cannot be brought down like
those wantons, Boleyn and Howard,

who destroyed only themselves, nor set
aside like Aragon and the Flemish mare.

If the heretic aspires to see her queen,
so be it. For the king knows that well enough.

Yet what does not prick him now can
easily be rubbed into a sore later.

Thus we shall destroy all in one.

My lord, you'll be wasted if
you don't get a cardinal's hat.

The croaking raven's talking about us.
God give me joy to open his crop.

Control your temper, Thomas. You have
too great a conceit of yourself.

And there are enough canting prelates
in this kingdom to give me cause.

Thomas, be still.
Cranmer gives you good advice.

-Will she agree to wed him?
-The King may ask, yet it will be an order.

She will obey willingly. She understands
her duty to God and the Church.

She spent as much time on her knees
with Gardiner as she did with you.

She is proof against papistical
doctrines, Thomas.

And the Bishop of Winchester also directed
her prayers toward marriage with the King.

-To what end?
-That we might betray our faith through her.

And so we will, Thomas,
if we are rash and foolish.

She's coming.

-She walks like a queen already.
-HENRY: Gardiner!

-Pray for me,my Lord Archbishop.
-Madam, we both prayed.

No, my lord, for me.

I will, my child.

What did the King say?

-That he's lonely.
-Cate!

Madam, did you say what you were taught?

My lord, I would have answered as you
instructed me but, no, my lord, I could not.

Madam, you're a fool.

Aye, sir, for when the King
said he would wed me,

I said I would sooner be his mistress.

25,000 horse and foot?

Emperor Charlesasks much
of my kingdom, Chapuys.

He promises no less himself,
Your Majesty.

-And he hasacknowledged your...
-Does your leg pain you?

-Would you sit inyour Emperor's presence?
-No, Your Majesty.

Would you sit in mine?

-If your Majesty wishes...
-We must endure our infirmities, Chapuys.

I hope I may do so with
Your Majesty's fortitude.

What does your Emperor acknowledge?

Your Majesty's claim to Boulogne,
Montreuil and Therouanne.

-If I take themfrom the French.
-When Your Majesty does.

And the Bishop of Rome?

Will he acknowledge me sovereign head
of the English Church? No less.

My master is in Rome.
He will inform His Holiness.

If I wed again,
I don't want any snivelling priest,

here or in Rome, crying adulterer at me.

25,000 men under the banner of the
Church should be your guarantee, sire.

Enough for Rome to accept
my divorce from Aragon?

Your Majesty, the Six Articles passed
by Your Majesty's Parliament

are cogent proof of your desire to
follow the teaching of Holy Church.

-But are they enough, Chapuys?
-With respect, Your Majesty,

these Six Articles were approved
by you four years ago.

They have yet to be enforced.

The Church in England does not accept
the sacrament in its fullest sense.

It does not regard confession as compulsory.
It does not permit private masses,

nor impose celibacy upon its clergy.

Cranmer's wife and children. They irk
your flesh, don't they, Gardiner?

Sire.

Then I must enforce the Articles.

But Your Majesty spoke of marrying again.

A good and wholesome widow.

I'm sure Your Majesty never had a
wife more agreeable to your heart

than Lady Latimer will prove to be.

She's no Pope Catholic, Chapuys.

Your Majesty's consort,
as much as your people,

will surely observe those articles
you have enforced.

God send you both long life and
much joy in each other.

A long life you may
indeed expect from God,

the joy in each other will
be of our own making.

But what if she has refused me?
Hmm?

Cate.

I thought your brother would pursue
me himself and talk of duty.

-Are you his messenger?
-I came on my own prompting.

Thomas, why can you never be honest?

I would have you wed the king.
What could be more honest than that?

A rose you sent me once.

When my Lord Latimer died,
you sent me a rose.

And you walked beside me at court,
touching your sword, and you sang to me.

You played the lute.

If you want me to say I love you,
I will, Cate.

But if you love me, you must wed the king.

I'd rather your brother had come,
or Cranmer.

They'd only have talked
of the love of God.

And if the sight of the King
offends you, close your eyes.

They'll be more offence in the fires
which Gardiner will light at Smithfield.

-What's an old man'sbody to that blasphemy?
-Are you afraid?

Madam.

Or are you bold enough to think I'd turn
my marriage ring into a coronet for you?

Thomas, the sight of the King doesn't
offend me. He's old and lonely.

Than marry him in pity, madam.

And if I won't marry him,
would you marry me, Thomas?

I love you. I've always loved you.
But before God, Cate, I tell you this.

If I marry you now you've refused him,
I shall in time hate you.

I had not expected more.

Be easy, Thomas. I told
the King I would wed him.

(LIVELY MUSIC PLAYING)

Madam, do you think
I wed a nurse this morning?

-Drink the wine, my lord. It will be cold tonight.
-My dove.

-My lord, I would ask a favour.
-Hmm?

-Is it jewels?
-No, my lord. I want no jewels.

The ladies of my privy chamber.

-You have none.
-No, my lord.

-Have you finished the wine?
-No.

-Is it too hot, perhaps...
-Oh, don't cosset me, madam.

-What of your ladies?
-I would choose them myself.

Some withered lemons, no doubt.

By your favour, my lord, I would
have my sister, the Lady Herbert.

-Aye, I know.
-And my cousin,the Lady Lane...

Oh, a sweet wench, I remember.

...who loves young Knevet,
a lieutenant at the Tower.

Hmm. And, Cate, talking of loving...

And lastly, the Lady Tyrwhitt.

-Oh, a dragon.
-A good heart, sire. May they serve me?

(SIGHING)

Cate, speaking of serving...

-What are you doing now?
-Reading, my lord.

Aye. By St Mary, you try my patience.

They are some pieties of my own composition.
I've calledthem Lamentations of a Sinner.

And what in the name of God,
sweet Cate, do you know of sin?

Shall I read to you, my lord?

Aye, read to me. I've forgotten
what else I had in mind.

"Mine evils and miseries
are so many and so great

"that they can accuse me
even to my face.

"Oh, how miserably and wretchedly
am I confounded

when for the multitude and greatness

of my sins I am compelled to accuse myself."

"Was it nota marvellous unkindness
when God did speak to me

"that I would not answer Him..."

Cate! Cate, my wife.

My lord?

Is it not also a marvellous unkindness
when the King, your husband,

did speak to you and you would not answer?

Have I displeased you, my lord?

Oh, sweet Cate, how could I be displeased
with the journey when I have yet to set out?

Will you have some more wine?

Madam, I would remind you of a vow
you made to me this morning.

It was, if you recall, to be
"bonair and buxom in bed."

Sire.

I disgust you, Cate.

I'm gross. I'm old. I disgust you.

No, my lord.

Then be not afraid of me.
There's nothing to fear in love, Cate.

I'm an old campaigner.
I couch a lance like a gentleman.

(DOOR OPENING)

-Master Somers.
-My lady?

-Master Somers, the King is fatigued.
-Cate.

My lord?

-Bring His Majesty some wine.
-Aye, my lady.

Cate, Cate.

(HENRY SHOUTING)

HENRY: She stoops.

A word, Cate.

-Are you happy?
-I am content, Thomas.

You've put life into the King,
I'll swear to that.

That's the first time he's been
in the saddle for a year or more.

He doesn't abuse you?

-No, he's gentle.
-Gentle! That mountain of lard and stinking sores.

For God, I believe he'sput
life into you, too.

-Did you think I'd come to abduct you, Cate?
-What do you want?

To remind you you're no bumpkin's wife.

-You should remind yourself of that.
-We made you a queen, Cate.

Have you forgotten you stand
between us and the Pope Catholic?

I'll not plot for you.

Henry goes to w*r to win
himself the Pope's pardon.

Will you see us burn and do nothing?

You burn already with ambition.

-If he dies in Flanders...
-Oh, no...

He means that much. So much the better.

But if he dies, Cate,
before you've done your work...

I'll do no work.

Gardiner will have young
Edward set aside

and the crown placedon
Mary's cunning head.

-She would not accept.
-She would. And fill this kingdom with priests.

They'd send you to the stake,
my lady, with the rest of us.

-He won't die.
-Not yet, please God.

Not before you've persuaded him to
name my brother protector of Edward

and myself as master of horse.

Oh, Cate, are you out of love
with those who cherish you?

Gracious my God!

What dalliance is this?

-Your Majesty.
-Yes, My Majesty.

What assignation have you with
My Majesty's wife, sire?

-My lord.
-Be quiet.

-Nay, sire, I will not.
-Madam...

-I will speak before you do your conscience hurt.
-You talk of my conscience?

I do. For it's assacred
to me as my own.

-Well?
-This gentleman...

-This gentleman...
-By God...

Don't browbeat me with
your braggart oaths.

Haven't I made you rich enough? Have
I filled your purse with monks' gold

-that you may now covet my wife?
-Henry!

-Madam, that name is for our closet only.
-My lord.

This gentleman came to me that
I might plead with you on his behalf.

-Hmm.
-It's true.

He wishes to serve you and begged me to
secure him some post abroad in your cause.

Hmm? Abroad, you say?

-I tire of England, Your Majesty.
-Hmm.

Yes. Or of a woman, eh?

I... I wish to serve Your Majesty.

Sweet Cate.
Such things need not concern you.

-My lord.
-No, no. Come away.

My lord, I beseech you, send this
eager gentleman where he desires.

-Has he offended you?
-No, my lord.

But we shall surely offend him
if we reject his honest loyalty.

Oh, so be it.
Will you leave this week?

You may go with Paget to the Emperor
and secure quarters for my army.

(DRUM ROLL)

(FANFARE)

You were right, Bishop.

It's taken a year or more,
but she's made a warrior of him.

In faith, king and horse
are a mighty host in themselves.

-She's the devil's agent.
-Not yours, my lord?

No, sir. The devil's. And for the glory
of God, I would not have it otherwise.

She's ordered a translation of Erasmus'
paraphrases of the Testament

and persuaded the King it should
be placed in every parish church.

Cranmer grows bold in her shadow.

You've not beenidle yourself, my lord.

I saw the ashes at Smithfield
on my way here. Who were they?

They were guilty of
keeping heretical books.

Take counsel with Cranmer while
I'm in Flanders.

Wriothesley's a dullard, but if used
wisely, he's a diligent chancellor.

-And Bishop Gardiner?
-He's God's servant and mine.

-Who burns men for keeping books.
-Cate, Cate.

Be it known and ordered by me

that in my absence this kingdom
shall be ruled as regent

by my sovereign lady, the Queen.

Into her hands I entrustthe
safety of my people,

the honour of my name and the good-keeping
and education of my children.

(FANFARE)

The education of his children.

Perhaps you should tell the
King to study his wife's library.

She will betray herself.

-And would you burn her, my lord?
-To save the Church? Yes.

And I would weep for her.

Your compassion humbles me, my lord.

Your pardon, Master Butler, we'll continue.

It is now many months
since Your Majesty...

Oh, no, no. Strike that out.

This distance of time
and days is so long

and so many,

yet the want of Your Majesty's
presence is such

that I can take no pleasure in anything.

Thus, sweet my lord,

love and affection compel me
to desire your presence.

God rest you, Edward.

God rest you, Elizabeth.

Oh!

Again your pardon, Master Secretary,
I'll persevere.

God, the knower of secrets,
can judge these words

to be written not only

with ink, but most truly

impressed on my heart.

-Madam, Sir...
-Your Majesty.

Sir Thomas, what does this mean?

Your Majesty's pardon for this intrusion.

I come from the King.

And more by word of mouth for
your ear alone, madam.

Sir, if you please.

For your ear alone, madam.

Mary.

God rest you, Mary.

-Two years.
-Get up.

-What message have you from the King?
-None, but that love note.

I'd see you alone, that's all.

I've ridden from Dover since morning.
I'm in no mood to wait on you like a servant.

-Cate, you've become a beauty.
-How's the King?

In a sick humour. He serves
his Popishmasters like a paladin.

He captures a town or two

and is given the plates to lick
afterwards. A faithful dog.

And if your master is a dog,
what are you?

I'm an Englishman and one with
no taste for a sick king's fancies.

Is he ill?

Ill, no.

Camp fever and aching bones, but
not ill. Just older than he thinks.

Poor Henry.

Poor England. Cate, have you
no notion of what's happening?

-He's ill.
-By God's most precious soul, madam.

He's in debt to the Emperor
and the Pope Catholics.

They demand an end towhat they call
his soft treatment of our Church.

They want more of Gardiner's fires.
And there's talk.

There's talk of him taking a new queen.

A new queen? He would set me aside?

There's no danger of it, yet.

(LAUGHING)

He all but throttled the fool
who spoke of it openly.

-But, Cate, when he comes, you must...
-Is he coming?

By tomorrow's tide from Boulogne,
he'll be here the day after.

Thomas, blessed be God,
my lord is coming home.

HENRY: Cate!

Cate!

Cate!

(WHEEZING)

Cate!

-Cate!
-Oh, my lord.

-Oh, my sweet Cate.
-Oh, my lord, bienvenu.

Oh.

-Oh, my lord. So you are ill?
-No, tired. That's all.

-I would sleep a little.
-Yes, my lord.

And then...

(SNORING)

Did they...

-Did they tell you how I took Boulogne?
-Yes, my lord.

By land and sea while the Emperor's
men were looting farmyards.

Two days I was in armour, Cate.

Are you proud of this old body of mine?

Oh, yes, Henry. I'm proud of you.

-But, my lord, it's made you ill.
-Oh.

I could have had Boulogne
20 years ago, but for Wolsey.

-Is Cranmer here yet?
-No, my lord.

-Or Gardiner?
-No, my lord.

I sent word from Dover to
get them out of their beds.

-I've been cheated, Cate.
-My lord?

Four days after I took Boulogne,
the Emperor signed a treaty with France.

-He said he would. I dared him to.
-Why, my lord?

He would have France as his ally now,

to crush the Lutherans in his
own provinces.

I kept my bond and they cheated me.
What has Gardiner been doing?

My lord, the Bishop of Winchester
has been burning heretics.

So he lights fires under
a shopkeeper or two,

puts a scholar to the rack,
but he's my minister of state.

He strikes at Cranmer
through them and at me.

-You?
-At me, my lord.

-For what reason?
-None, my lord.

-Must I ask him?
-As Your Majesty pleases.

I am not pleased. But, madam,
and it please you for what reason?

He has brought several of my ladies
before yourCouncil for examination.

-So?
-He accuses them of keeping forbidden books.

He asked them what I read,

what I said andwhat I am teaching
Your Majesty's children.

And what do you teach them, madam?

To love the charity and goodness of God,

to follow His doctrine, and to
love you, and obey you as I do.

I had as lief be a country
gentleman with a good wife,

a hundred acres, and a hand's span
of stout sons to hunt with me.

-Would you like that, Cate?
-No, my lord. I would have you king.

-And thus be queen.
-And thus love my husband and my country

-in one gentle soul.
-Trust no one, Cate.

-No one.
-But I must trust you, my lord.

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

Your Majesty, the Bishop of Winchester.

I rejoice to see Your
Majesty in such health.

-Oh? Where's Cranmer?
-His Grace is recovering from a fever, sire.

Oh, if he won't come, then truly he must
be ill. He's not afraid of you, Gardiner.

All men must fear God's displeasure,
sire. And their king's.

Am I displeased with him?

-The Queen stays.
-Your Majesty.

The Emperor's made peace with France.

And he will move with them
against the Lutherans.

And what of his bond to me?

Sire, what honour is there in their world
now all men are turned against us?

We are still at w*r with
France and Scotland.

Oh, Scotland, yes!
Hertford teaches them a lesson.

Seven towns, seven monasteries destroyed.
Ten score villages and 13 mills.

Your Majesty, the Pope has been displeased
with Hertford's work in Scotland.

-The Pope.
-The Emperor's no longer your friend and ally.

I know all this.

It is my duty to tell Your Majesty
that in the opinion of your Council,

any weakness towards heresy in England

may encourage France and the
Emperor to move against you.

-There's a French fleet off the Isle of Wight.
-The opinion of my Council?

Of those who are Your Majesty's
true and loyal servants.

But not Cranmer, of course.

Cranmer should be brought before the rest
of the Council to answer charges against him.

What charges?

His tenderness towards the heretics,
his opposition to the Six Articles.

Your witnesses?

Sire, no one dares give evidence
against a member of your Council

whilst he is still free
to proceed against them.

-My Lord...
-HENRY: (GROANS) Be still, woman.

You would put an archbishop in the Tower?

Your Majesty, I'd consider it
my duty to deliver my brother

to the stake if he offended God,

and there by be assured of his salvation.

My lord, I beseech you,
speak with Cranmer first.

GARDINER: My lady's gentle concern
for His Grace is well known and...

HENRY: Sirrah!

Your Majesty, I did but
recall your own words.

That affairs of State and Church
should best concern the minds of men,

and not the hearts of women.

Very well.

He may be examined, but be sure
you're right, Sir Bishop.

Now you may leave us, but wait on me.
We shall talk later.

And now, madam,
will you dispute with me?

No, my lord.

Your face is as long as a barber's bow

and your expression's as sour as vinegar.

-I'm afraid of him.
-Why? Because he examined your foolish lady?

More, my lord. He arrested a priest
from my chapel and several choristers.

His officers have examined
my chambers for books.

My lord. Will you abandon Cranmer?

If I'm to have every Popish
prince at my throat,

I'm going toneed the friendship
of the German Lutherans

and they would trust Cranmer.

-Send this to him.
-My lord?

When the Council call him,
let him show them that

as a token that they may not
proceed without my presence.

-And when will that be, my lord?
-Why, madam, when I choose.

That's kingly craft, Cate.

I give Gardiner his way,
keep an arm about Cranmer,

thus have two servants still,
two legs upon which, like Colossus,

I may straddle this contentious kingdom.

-My lord.
-But hark ye, Cate.

Remember St Paul.

Do not dispute with me in matters
that are not your concern.

-My lords.
-They took a boat on the Thames alone,

-except for the waterman.
-Did you examine the fellow?

He said the king jested with Cranmer,

saying he knew now who was the
greatest heretic in Kent.

And then he pulled the depositions
we prepared from his sleeve

and showed them to Cranmer.

And then?

And then the King told Cranmer to fear
nothing while the whole cause was in his hands.

-My lords, she's recovered her senses.
-We're coming, Master Knevet.

It's the Queen's work.

-Then we're lost.
-No.

She's begun her own betrayal, that's all,

and needs but a little help
from us to complete it.

Mistress Askew, will you now confess?

I will confess my sins to God

and He will hear me with favour,
for I am unjustly persecuted.

-Will you die so perversely?
-Nay, in innocence.

O ye of little faith,
how can you know the truth?

Madam, who taught you these responses?

The voice of God whose hand protects me...

-The witch blasphemes!
-Mistress Askew, how old are you?

(SCREAMING)

Mistress Askew, how old are you?

She's 25, my lord.

-And of gentle birth?
-I am born of God's family.

As are we all in His sight.

Do you know your husband's
abandoned you because of your heresy?

I forgive him.

-That heresy has been proved by witnesses.
-I forgive them.

Oh, Mistress Askew,
I have been your friend.

Thus said Judas.

Your sins are great, mistress,
and you've been condemned.

My child, I can yet secure
you the King's pardon.

I shall not deny the Lord to save myself.

You sent books to the Queen's ladies.

I wish to die! Let me die!

My child, it's in the confession
you made in your first examination.

-No!
-It's recorded.

Oh, good Christ, succour me.

(GASPS)

And did you not send
books to the Queen also?

And did she not smile upon you
and call you a friend,

and ask you todebate with her?

-I will tell you...
-Yes, my child.

...nothing.

-She was beautiful?
-Aye, my lord.

She was beautiful.

-Let this officer be relieved of his duty here.
-Thank you, my lord.

-And the woman?
-Oh, she'll admit nothing.

-I'll turn the wheel again.
-No, no, no.

She's in ecstasy of sin. Would you encourage
her? She's condemned and she'll burn.

There is truth in pain, Master Knevet,
and salvation in fire for the sinner.

-Don't reproach yourself.
-No, my lord.

There is some dalliance between you
and one of the Queen's ladies?

Yes, my lord. The Lady Lane.

-Then tell her what has occurred here.
-No, my lord. I couldn't...

You're troubled, my son.

Then why not find heart's ease by
talking about it with your love?

Yes, my lord.

-And Master Knevet saw this?
-Yes, my lady.

-He is an honest man?
-Oh, indeed, my lady, and much troubled.

She confessed nothing of plots against me?
Or of Norfolk's complicity?

No, Your Majesty, but she revealed much
of her own heresy and that of others.

Where there is heresy, we find
the camp followers of treason.

Oh, sit by me, madam.

-She was put to the rack?
-Twice, Your Majesty, and thrice examined.

And she will be burned?

As also William Morrice,
lately Your Majesty's usher,

and Sir George Blagge of the Privy Chamber.

Morris? But he was agood and simple fellow.

Who denounced the mass,
Your Majesty,

as did the woman Askew.

Is it true that SirThomas Wriothesley
turned the rack himself

and would have Mistress Askew perjure
herself by accusing my ladies?

-Sire.
-Be silent, madam.

Nay, good sir, for that
wouldn't silence my doubts,

unless His Lordship can do it for me.

-Doubts, madam?
-Aye, my lord.

That God wishes us to abuse
each other so foully.

That his truth can truly be found in the
lies which a poor woman tells in agony.

Your Majesty knew this wretched woman?

No. But I've heard her gently spoken of.

-By whom?
-Why, by you, my lord.

You said she might be more
foolish than vicious.

-By St Mary, I did not.
-But you did, my...

My lady, perhaps the thought was your own.

Perhaps compassion has
betrayed you into error.

God knows my sins and faults, Lord Bishop.

I doubt He would agree with you
and include compassion amongst them.

Madam, if the wicked woman was racked,
it was God's will and in God's name.

I know nothing of her wickedness, sire,

but surely it is wicked to
argue that Christ's love

can be made manifest by
the rack and the fire.

Your Grace would not agree that
in preaching her heresy openly,

the woman was endangering
the safety of this kingdom?

She preached the scriptures, sir.
There's nothing perilous in that.

You heard her preach, madam?
Or read her writings?

I have read something of
what she's written.

By heaven, I knew nothing of this.

My lord, there never was a greater
need than now for a good doctrine

to benefit all men.

Must we burn those that
honestly search for it?

Yes. If they also seek to corrupt
the kingdom and destroy the throne.

But you are our Moses that delivered us
from the bondage of the Pharaoh of Rome.

If there is ignorance
and blindness in us still,

why the truth of God's word
alone should you instruct us

and set us on the path of righteousness.

Madam, are you teaching me my duty?

The devil is the sower of sedition,
the woman Askew loved God,

how can that be treason?

Madam!

Do not dispute this with me!

Madam, the woman was examined,
tested and tried by Church and law,

by high officers of God and
the King, your husband.

Is it not therefore
impertinent for a woman

to question so supreme a judgement?

The Pharisees also
waxed haughty and proud,

taking themselves to be men of
greater virtuebecause of their rank.

Am I a Pharisee, madam?

If this be so, what must be the King,
whose appointed minister I am?

Oh, my lord, I...
I meant no offence to you.

Hold your tongue, woman.
You do offend me.

Your pious face offends me. I am offended
by your prattling, insolent tongue.

Well, madam, must I call my guards
to remove you from my sight?

A fine season, this,

when women would turn clerks and
I am taught my duty by my wife!

(COUGHING)

And you, sir, will you now be silent?

Oh, sire, if I cannot speak...
Oh, it is of no consequence.

-Go on!
-Sire, if I cannot speak, it is from astonishment.

What?

That the Queen should so far forget
herself as to stand in argument with you.

And since your Assertio
on the heresies of Luther,

you've been above all princes in learned
judgement in matters of religion.

Well, my lady wife thinks not.

There's a comfort for my old age, Gardiner.
To be taught theology by a woman.

(LAUGHING)

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

Sire.

What now?

Sire, the love you bear me
encourages me to speak frankly.

Any prince who encourages malapert
insolence in his subjects,

whatever their station,
imperils not only his throne,

but his salvation in Christ.

And how honest are you being with me, Sir
Bishop. Did the woman Askew name the Queen?

Sire, she would not deny that
she had spoken with Her Majesty,

but we know the Queen's
goodness and charity.

If these virtues have led her into
a betrayal of Your Majesty's trust...

Well, you...You examined her ladies.

I did, Your Majesty, and among
their papers I found much that was

controversial and heretical.

But you found nothing against
the Queen in those papers?

Sire, there were matters both equivocal
and unequivocal that require her explanation.

Touching upon what?

Touching upon religion and
upon government, Your Majesty.

Those doctrines, which we heard Her
Majesty so stiffly maintain, do,

in their extremes and among malcontents,
disallow government by princes,

and argue that all things
should be held in common.

This is ultimate heresy, Your Majesty.

-The Queen has said that?
-By implication.

And not in full knowledge of the heresy.

But upon her examination by
Your Majesty's Council,

she will recognise her innocent errors,
and satisfy Your Majesty's painful doubts.

I've not yet said she may be examined.

No, Your Majesty, but how else,
for her own salvation,

can we find the root of her
obstinate and perverse opposition?

It is obstinate and perverse.

But in the Tower,Your Majesty's
Council will discreetly lead her

to recognise her innocent foolishness.

-The Tower?
-For her own safety, Your Majesty.

That she may have solitude to reflect,

and be free of those who would
influence her against you.

-It is necessary?
-Alas, my lord.

Am I ever to be betrayed
by those I love?

Very well.

Let her be examined.

I like it not.

Your liking it or not liking
it is of no consequence.

-You go too far.
-Too far?

I tread God's path that
others may follow

and those who would hinder me
must be struck down in His name.

-But the Queen!
-You were hot for her removal once.

-And those behind her.
-The King's sick to die.

That he's still alive
each morning is a miracle.

If he dies before this is done, Cranmer
and the Seymours will have our heads!

Well, my head as a gentleman.
You will burn.

I hope I shall die in the knowledge
that I have served God faithfully.

Find another to serve the warrant.

The hunt is up, my Lord Chancellor.

-And you are the King's huntsman.
-Find another.

If I can secure the King's
warrant for his wife,

I can also secure one
for his chancellor.

When shall I take her to the Tower?

The day after tomorrow.
There is much to prepare.

Well?

She is the Queen.

There's been a great harvesting
of queens inour time, Wriothesley.

Were you this faint-hearted
to garner Catherine Howard?

-The King...
-The King?

The King approaches Almighty judgement.
He's afraid of death

and would transfer his sins
to others before he departs.

He will not change his mind.

-I like it not.
-So you have said, and so I shall remember.

-Madam.
-Sir?

(WHISPERING) Madam.

(WHISPERING) Sir?

-The Queen, your mistress.
-Aye, sir?

(LATCH TURNING)

I must do my duty, I cannot
escape it, but tell her...

-Well, what shall I tell her, sir?
-Madam, her life is in danger.

No.

Madam, he showed me the warrant.

Not my lord.

Alas, madam, it was signed.
By the King's hand.

-She is here?
-There, my lord.

Madam?

-How long?
-Since yesterday evening.

So long.

At times she weeps. Then she
cries out that she is dead.

She'll have no candles lit, saying that
no one will find her in the dark.

-Leave me with her.
-My lord, if the King should discover...

He does not return from Windsor
until tomorrow. Leave me with her.

Madam?

-Will you pray with me, my child?
-No light!

Nay, child, it's only a candle
and nothing to fear.

You see?

Now pray with me.

Most benign Lord Jesus,
grant me Thy grace,

that it may always work in me and
persevere with me unto the end.

It's your own prayer, Catherine.
Do you remember writing it?

Thy creature...

Thy creature am I

and in Thy hands.

Turn me where Thou wilt.

Lord, give me grace,

gladly to suffer whatsoever
Thou wilt shall fall upon me,

and patiently to take at Thy hands

the good and the bad, bitter and sweet,

joy and sorrow,

and for all things that shall be
fall unto me, heartily to thank Thee.

(CRYING)

Oh, sweet madam.

I beseech you, believe.

God is strong enough to take the
burden of this trouble from you.

-He has deserted me.
-He sent you this trial to test you.

-Will you desert Him?
-The King has abandoned me.

Yet the Lord is by your side.

Oh, God.

Indeed we are all afraid.

Do you hear, my lady? We are all afraid.

I feel the rack. I smell the fire.

Madam, I too am afraid.

Now you are the rock upon which we
founder, or may cling and be saved.

Will you abandon us?

God forgive you if you do,
for you are thereby damned.

-Save me.
-You must save yourself.

Catherine, I'll pray for you.

-When I burn.
-Most surely then.

-For I shall be beside you in the flames.
-Oh, blessed God, help me.

Do your duty to Him, and He will.

Save His Church.

I'm a woman, not a churchman.

Then be a woman, madam.

Be a woman

as God's scriptures and your own
nature so instruct you.

Be still, fool. Here is no rival for
your wit.But you may rise, madam.

You do me too much honour, madam.

Don't you take more pleasure in the
company of your heretical ladies?

Oh no, my lord. Never.

-You know I am ill.
-Indeed, my lord.

-Yet you cared nothing.
-I'd give my own life that you might be well.

I'm sick at heart, too.
You know that?

-My lord, if I have done...
-Done?

What haven't you done, by St Mary?
I'll tell you what you've done.

You've turned clerk, madam,
to instruct me.

-No, my lord.
-Not to be directed by me, but to instruct me.

-What say you to that?
-By your leave, my lord. You are wrong.

-You see? Instruct me.
-No, my lord.

I remind myself of your
own instructions to me.

That it is preposterous for a woman
to takeup the attitude of

teacher to her husband.

You argued with me, madam.

-You dispute my judgements.
-No, by your leave, my lord...

Aye, you're a clerk, madam!
A clerk!

To instruct me!
Me, by God! Me!

Would you teach me theology
or astrology perhaps?

Or music? By heaven...What is it, madam?
Are you ill? Will. Will!

A stool, you dolt.
Get the Queen a stool.

Your Majesty...

Oh, what makes you ill, Cate?

-Is it perhaps...
-No, my lord.

Though not for want of Your Majesty's
energy and as*ault.

Yes, but you... You did lecture
me perversely, madam.

You did most
obstinately instruct me.

Indeed I did, sire, and was
in grievous default thereby.

For God made man in His own shape and
likeness, to instruct and improve women,

who have such great imperfections
in their creation.

-Just so, madam. My very words.
-Yes, Your Grace.

And you hurt me, Cate.

-I was angry. By God, I was angry.
-Then punish me, my lord.

For woman is made of man,
so must she be governed by him.

But who is to be the governor
when I must take instruction?

-My lord, I meant only to question you.
-Ah, to question.

And from your learned answers to be myself,

instructed by you, my beloved governor.

-Is it so, Cate? You meant no more than that?
-No more than that, my lord.

Then by heaven,
we may be friends again.

You bring me joy, sweetheart.

More joy than a hundred thousand
crowns falling in my lap.

Your Majesty.

Fool! Knave!

-Rogue! You... You beast!
-My lord!

You rogue!

You coward!

(WHEEZING)

(CHOKING)

(GROANING)

(CHURCH BELLS TOLLING)

-I came upon your message. Is the King dead?
-No.

-But the bell?
-I've sent word to have it stopped.

It was his notion that heaven perhaps might
have good warning of his eminent coming.

Nay, hell, more like.

Three weeks! How can he still live?

He could unleash his soul any hour now.

What news?

Good news. London is ours.

-And here at Hampton Court?
-No one can leave without our pass.

-Is Cranmer here?
-And Gardiner.

Both would have copy hold on the King's
spirit before his body's cold.

-There's none to stop us, brother.
-None,

now that the King has
condemned Norfolk to the Tower.

-Yet he is no Papist. He'd be an ally.
-Or a rival, Thomas.

-Mary?
-Here.

Now Gardiner will make her queen if he can,
but the king has named Edward his heir.

Give me 24 hours, Thomas, after he dies,

with no word of this tothe rest
of the kingdom until we're ready,

-and I'll crown the boy.
-Has the Kingnamed you regent?

-Or is it Catherine?
-No, he's forgotten her.

And, brother, here's the jest of it.
By his own word,

he is to be buried inthe chapel
at Windsornext to our sister Jane.

How can the man still live? How can life
bear to linger in that hill of rotting flesh?

(SHUSHING)

(BREATHING NOISILY)

(MOANING)

(WHISPERING) Your Majesty.

-Who's there?
-Stephen Gardiner, Your Majesty.

My legs. They burn.

With ice. They burn with ice.

(GASPING)

(SIGHING)

Your Majesty.

-Gardiner, you say?
-Your Majesty's loving servant.

You should have taken a wife

like Cranmer.

(LAUGHING HOARSELY)

Like me.

-My lord, she plots against you.
-Plots?

-Who?
-The Queen, my lord.

The Queen is dead. Sweet Jane.

No, the Lady Catherine,
my lord. There is proof.

Your Majesty, the Council must
examine her, lest you die in sin.

Sin? I've been shriven?

Be gone, Sir Priest.

They'll burn you.

Your Majesty, will you name the
Lady Mary your successor?

Mary?

Rogues, all of you.
You keep my daughter from me.

Where is Mary?

Send for the Lady Mary.

Be of good heart, my child.
He's asked to see you alone.

-And so, my lord?
-Madam, you are his sole heir,

in law and in the sight of God.

I'll wager a good horse
he told her she should be queen.

And so she believes.

But while grief has a hold on her,
she'll do as the King says.

HENRY: Mary, are you alone?

But for your fool.

Will... Are you still there, Will?

Aye, Cousin Hal. Always.

Not always.

I pray you, daughter,

your brother Edward is small
and young still.

-Try to be a mother to him.
-Oh, I shall, my lord.

And honour him as king.

(EXCLAIMING SOFTLY)

-Do not weep.
-O my lord, live many days yet.

Don't leave me alone among my enemies.

-Dear Will Somers...
-WILL: Aye, Your Majesty.

Take her away.
I can bear no weeping.

(MARY SOBBING)

(BREATHING LABORIOUSLY)

(HOARSELY) My God, release me.

(COUGHING SOFTLY)

My lord.

Is it Gardiner?

Thomas Cranmer, Your Majesty.

You're all one to me now.

Sire.

You asked for the Queen.
She is here.

The Queen is dead.

Madam.

-Who's there?
-Your wife, my lord.

Sweet Jane is dead.

It's Cate, my lord.

-Cate.
-Aye, my lord.

My son. Protect my children, Cate.

-As if they weremy own, my lord.
-Your own?

-Your jewels.
-My lord?

Don't let them take your jewels.
They're thieves, all of them.

-Gentlemen.
-My lord.

-My lord.
-Honour this sweet lady. Honour her.

And look after her as if I still lived.

(GASPING)

Kiss me, my lady.

It's God's will we should part, Cate.

It's a fine day for hawking.

-Thomas, you lack respect.
-My Lord Archbishop, I am honest.

Why not be so yourself?
Don't you feel a lightness of heart?

Thomas, be quiet! You're not a boy.

We're all boys and soon
to be released from school.

It's a fine day for hawking.
The bird stoops.

(WHISPERING)
And Gardiner is the quarry.

The King is about to die,
and must be told.

Nay, sir, let me tell him the glad
some news.

I'll cut out that
foolish tongue one day.

You'll have need of it yet, brother.
Take your hand from me!

I'll tell the King.
You bring our nephew Edward here.

Your Majesty.

Your Majesty, it is the judgement of
your physician that you are about to die.

Is there one you
would open your mind to?

Cranmer.

My lord, I beseech
God to give you the grace

to say something at this, your departure,

whereby he may be glorified
and your memory blessed.

Do you die in the true faith of Christ?

Sire, do you die in
the true faith of Christ?

Monks.

Monks!

He pressed my hand.

He died in the true faith of Christ
and will enter eternal life.

My lords, the King is dead.

Vive le noble roi Edward!

(DOOR OPENING)

Cate.

He's dead, Cate.

-Madam, the King is dead.
-Five hours ago.

Did you think no one would
come and tell me, Thomas?

Am I to be regent?

You? That's a cap for a man to wear.

-Or a crown for your brother.
-The Council declares him protector tomorrow.

-That wasn't my lord's wish.
-Your lord's dead.

-And his son needs us.
-Edward is afraid of you and so are his sisters.

-Are you afraid of us, Cate?
-I fear none of you now.

I found it in a corner of the garden.

The warmth of the kitchens
saved it from the frost.

-And your lute? Have you brought that?
-I will wed you, Cate.

May we not bury theKing,
my husband, first?

When we marry may wait upon discretion.

-But I may say yes or no now.
-You must say yes.

-Why?
-For the safety of...

-That I may protect you, madam.
-No word of love, Thomas?

I can speak of love if you wish,

but what I offer in the moment I choose
to offer it speaks more strongly.

I've had three husbands.
I'm old. I'm nothing.

-You're everything at this moment, Cate.
-To you?

To me, yes, but that's nothing.

Are you being self-denying again, Thomas?

-Our love is nothing...
-Our love!

...against your duty to Edward,
to the Church, and to this kingdom.

And by good fortune,
this time I may satisfy both.

Oh, Thomas, I've been crucified on duty,

to my father, to the husbands
his debts chose for me,

to the Church which I love, and
to the King which I came to love,

and Cranmer, whose fear and goodness made
me deny my conscience before the King.

Thomas, may I not now
find some duty to myself.

Madam, I would if I could take
a warmer companion to my bed,

but by God's most precious soul,
it must be you.

-No.
-At this moment, Edward is in his chamber

puking in fear of my brother.

Mary and Elizabeth stand over him like
she-cats daring either of us to enter.

-No, I will not.
-You will!

For it's you they love, and by your guidance
will be ready to obey those in your favour.

There's more, madam, if your
new-found wit wants the truth plain.

Without you, Mary will turn against us
and have this kingdom in civil w*r.

Edward is sick enough to
die for want of nursing.

And my brother would be ready
to choke Elizabeth himself

if he thought a party
might gather about her.

Now, madam, what of your duty?

Thomas, I would have loved you
once before all others.

-Faith, if that's all, I can light the spark.
-You, after my lord.

Who died crying for my sister Jane.

Well, madam?

I will marry you, Thomas.