Catherine Called Birdy (2022) - full transcript

A 14 year old girl in medieval England navigates through life and avoiding potential suitors her father has in mind.

Morwenna!

Morwenna!

I need Morwenna!

Wait for me!

- Birdy!
- Go away, Perkin!

And to think I just bathed you
a fortnight ago.

What a waste.

And cottage raisings are not
for young ladies.

Morwenna, I released the pigs,
and I'm not ashamed.

They're only headed to slaughter,
and I will not allow other animals

to live lives of captivity like mine.



You are the most well-fed captive I know.

And anyhow, I have a matter
far more pressing.

Perkin has told me how babies are made,

and I'm afraid I shall perish
with revulsion.

Well, you had to learn sooner or later.

You're 14.

Morwenna, am I to move on calmly
with what I know now?

A man is going to take
a heated iron poker... a heated one...

Stick it up my nose until there's a space
big enough for his whole thumb,

after which he will press seeds
into my brain.

And they trickle down my throat,
into my gut,

where they take root for nine months
before popping out my bum.

No.

No...



I shall murder Perkin.

I shall murder him, Morwenna!

And he will bleed worse
than if I was to stick a spike up his...

Corpus bones!

It is I, Birdy.

I am the daughter of Lord Rollo...

...and the Lady Aislinn.

Charge of Morwenna, the nursemaid.

Sister to Edward the Monk...

...and to the abominable Robert.

Birdy, leave me be, please.

- You're a courgette.
- Okay.

Of the village of Stone bridge
in the shire of Lincoln

in the country of England
in the hands of God.

Put your clothes on; don't refuse

Breeches, gloves, and also shoes;

Hat on head, for rain or sun

Buttons... do up every one.

And friend of Perkin, my heart's brother.

Although he is just a goat boy,
he is kind of heart and wise of spirit.

Though he is sorely afflicted
with wind in his bowels.

That's it.

Och.

Tangled my spinning again.

- What a torture.
- No, gently.

I would rather be fed to a stroppy dragon
than try and spin like a lady.

Oh, come on. Like I showed you.

No!

- There.
- No.

I am, thank the Lord, very cunning.

Most girls are,
though we're not given due credit for it.

But I have a fantastic update.

I have made a bargain with my mother.

I may forgo spinning,
my greatest agitation of all,

as long as I write this account of my days
for my brother, Edward the Monk.

In his letters, he tells me
he believes it will help me grow

less childish and more learned.

So what follows will be my book,

the book of Catherine,
called Little Bird or Birdy.

A golden braid for my golden lady?

Meg the dairymaid is a dear friend,

when I can stop her from curtsying
and milady-ing me.

This is hay.

But I really appreciate the sentiment.

It's beautiful.

Which means "my father is a beast,"

which must be the best words
that I've ever learned.

You're so lucky your father's dead.

- Birdy.
- Hmm?

I'm still actually quite upset about that.

My truest passions
are avoiding my chores...

Come on, yes!

Fight me harder this time.

Not too hard, though. Not too hard.

...critiquing my father's
horrible swordplay...

Birdy, mind my flowers!
No, no, no, don't trample them.

Birdy, walk on the path.
Can you walk on the path!

I don't see a path.

...disrupting cottage raisings...

- Hey!
- ...causing mischief in the village...

You stole my chicken!

...and listening through doors
I should not listen through.

Well, how has this happened, Finneas?

After all, you're paid
to prevent things like this.

In essence, my lord,

you have ignored me.

You have spent profligately
and without censure.

Nonsense. I can't have spent so much.

Give me one example of-of an expense

not strictly necessary
for the survival of my family.

Really?

My tiger has arrived.

It's dead.

The travel was harsh
from Siberia, my lord.

Mayhap it's just sleeping, Father.

It's not breathing, you fool.

- Perhaps some water?
- What, am I to live on

bread and water and chitchat alone,
like some peasant? Is that what you want?

Hey! Dog!

Dog.

Dog. Dog!

If, my lord, you were able to secure

a profitable union
for your only daughter...

A profitable union?

There is an opportunity to relieve
this accumulated debt.

For Birdy?

- Yes.
- With a man?

- Yes.
- No, no.

No, she's disgusting.
She's one step away from... from a leper.

No. Go away.

You may not have coins,
but your wife has a title,

and she gave it to you...

She didn't give it to me.

I earned it.

There are plenty of men foolish enough

to trade their fortune
for the prefix of "lord."

Now it's your job to find one.

No, surely, there must be
another way, yes?

She's my only daughter.

And this is your only manor.

My lord.

Something is astir.

Hi.

I can feel my father's eyes
following me wherever I go.

He is regarding me as he would
a bull bought for breeding.

Exactly how old are you?

I have 14 years.

I am surprised he's not asked
to examine my hooves.

And you've all your own teeth?

All but one.

Well, you're certainly a good eater.

What color's your hair when it's clean?

When it's clean?

Blue, I think.

Very good.

Well, nice to see you.

Mm. And you.

You can go and see your little
goat friend, uh...

What is brewing here?

14. That's-that's not young.

I am dying. It is plain to see.

What's Perkin told you now, Goosey?

Och, in the name of the Father, Birdy.

I must say my goodbyes
and get on with good humor.

I will go bravely
and with God in my heart.

Please give my brooch to my future sister.

And my Bible to my brother Edward,

and tell him that I'm sorry I got pudding
upon the pages.

Morwenna.

The blood came from my bum.

From your bum?

Oh, for the love of a god greater than I.

It comes from the other hole, Birdy.

What other hole?

It is your monthly tidings.

The lady in red.

So you will do your duty
to bear your husband children.

Then I shall run away. Far.

I shall steal a suit of armor
and become a knight and take...

take the horse and the carriage,
and I shall ride at midnight.

Dress as a knight or dress as a lady,
the blood will come.

You are a woman now, Birdy.

- Woman?
- Mm-hmm.

First of all, we're gonna make a pad.

Rag gets wrapped round hand.

Make it good and thick.

That is a nice wee pad
that sits in your pants.

You hold that.

- Are they my father's?
- No.

- These are your pants.
- My-my pants?

And this... Give me the pad.

Like that.

Up between your legs,
and then that's gonna get all the blood

and keep it away from your clothes.

Can you manage that?

Yes, I can, Morwenna.

Hey. Don't do that.

- Just be careful.
- I am!

We'll get some mint,

'cause that makes
the whole thing taste nice.

Dandelion...
But not the flower, obviously...

Is perfect for those cramps.

Alf, do you have your mum's knickers
on Wendy's head?

Och. Perkin.

What's he up to now,
dressing up farm animals?

A lamb should be dressed in mint sauce,
not a hat.

All those herbs that we picked,

we're going to make tea
into your favorite cup.

It is my favorite cup.

It is your favorite cup. I know.

And swirl, and dip.

And take a sip, and the pain will be gone.

I...

What are you doing?

Knocking is, uh...
is customary, uh, Birdy,

although, I admit, maybe not
in the public houses that you frequent.

Public... I've never been
to a public house. Mama, he lies.

- I'm not lying, darling!
- Oh...

I'm jesting. There's a difference.

Although I did see you in the, uh,
public house the other night, didn't I?

Um, swearing and drinking ale,
getting into fights with peasants?

- Big punch-up, no? Huh?
- Mama?

I, for one, should like
my room free of jesters for the moment.

I should like to rest.

One more jest before I go, huh?

What did the Pope say to the ale rat?

What?

What?

Well, what did the Pope say
to the ale rat?

What did the Pope say to the...
What are you talking about?

- The jest.
- She gone... she gone mad?

The Pope and the ale rat.

What Pope?

- Which ale rat?
- Father...

Oh, yes. Um...

Mama?

Birdy.

I have something to tell you.
It's ever so serious, so...

- Mama, are you all right?
- Yes.

It's just the baby kicking.

What was it you wanted to say, darling?

Maybe now is not a good time.

And perhaps I shall wait forever.

- There's a hanging today in Rutherford.
- A hanging?

An ever so small one.
I was thinking I could maybe go...

Absolutely forbidden.

- Robert goes to all the hangings.
- Well, Robert is Robert, and you are not.

And anyhow, the Sidebottoms arrive today.

It's your favorite day of the month.

Come here to me, child.

Come and rest with your weary mother.

So nice to have you here, my darling.

I'm so tired.

I'm always so tired.

When will I not be tired, Birdy?

Um, in a year?

In a year.

It's the only one I could find.
Here they come.

Today, Aelis comes.

She's a dearest friend to me.

- Can you see that?
- Yeah.

You have a weak right eye...

- Yeah.
- So use the left.

Slowly, slowly…

Oh, God. Clumsy.

Oh, God, my...

And when I see her face,
I hear birds and whistles.

I see ribbons, and I see flowers.

- Oh, Aelis.
- Oh, Aelis.

Oh, every bone in my body is aching.

My mind is aching.

- Birdy, your hair's got so long.
- I know.

- It's so ducky.
- Birdy?

You must give me some kind of warning,

because the sight of your countenance,
it makes me...

it makes me feel...

Hi, Robert.

Lady Sidebottom.

Aelis.

Always very good to see you.

You're looking rather piquant.

Well, you look rather pink yourself.

Leave us be.

Do you ladies need an escort
around the garden?

It's... it-it can be very dangerous
around here.

Just go, you deathmonger. Go!

And the roses have, um...

- been exceptional this season.
- Absolutely wonderful.

And, of course, butterflies.

I hate butterflies.

We have already had, uh,
five or six marriage proposals,

all of them serious inquiries.

We've had, um, uh, nine...

Some of these letters are florid
in the extreme.

But I don't care if they are poets.

I care if they can pay
for my daughter in...

in gold brick.

Absolutely.

- Welcome to Stone bridge, Lady Aelis.
- Oh, you have buns!

Yes, I have buns.

I used to have more buns and cakes,
but now I think we're poor.

-We are not poor,
-Good.

But there's nothing to eat at our manor,

'cause Papa banished the baker
a month ago.

Why?

Well, he said that he and my stepmother

were exchanging wistful glances.

Hmm.

Thank you. Thank you.

My lady, I promise
I'm not spoiling my supper.

Oh. I do not give a goat's ass
what you spoil, Aelis.

Berenice! B-Berenice!

Never again leave a convivial grouping
when I'm speaking.

I... I was about to make
a point of great importance.

Well, I go where I want,

and I say what I please!

She's been writing the most tragic poetry.

Do you know my stepmother was brought
to our manor from Gascony?

- Gascony?
- Mm-hmm.

- First by boat, then by carriage.
- Mm-hmm.

Took many nights, and no one told her
where she was going.

And then my father was waiting.

He sent away for a wife
the day after my mother died.

Men are horribly duplicitous creatures.

I should like to take
a carriage with you, Aelis.

How would we escape?

We'll, uh, steal a knight's armor
or a monk's robes or...

- I don't know.
- Well, where would we go?

Well...

Uncle George writes to me of the Crusades.

- Oh, Uncle George.
- So we could...

Uncle George, Uncle George!

All you ever speak about is Uncle George.

- Yes, because he comes soon, Aelis.
- Mm.

You know he's my best uncle.

He's your only uncle.

Yes.

As the time approaches when we must wed,

we are forced to undertake lady lessons.

My two least favorite words,
together in one terrible phrase.

Gently, young ladies.

A gentle hand plays a soothing tune.

Sister Cornethia attempts to make me

musical, pious and full of grace

for any suitor who may call.

Do we find our lessons ever so funny?

It seems to me a joke is astir.

No.

But she will find she has no easy job.

My lord.

I want to meet the baby.

I want to meet the baby.

Birdy, please go for Mama.

Catherine, come on. You must to bed.

Why does he get to meet the baby?

Only God will meet this baby, Birdy.

I will never get used
to babies coming dead.

And my heart will never stop aching
for them to live.

I continue to hide my rags
so that my father

will not make me a wife and a mother,

and I will keep hiding them
over and over...

forever.

Mother usually checks in on Edward
at the abbey,

but she still loses blood from the birth
so sends me in her place.

We are too poor to offer the monks
any pies anymore.

I simply bring myself.

I always imagined that Edward lived
amongst God-fearing old nutters

and musty old men who clutched
their Bibles to their chests.

Ooh-la-la.

Wait.

These are monks? Why hath no one told me?

I am ever so confused about
what God is getting at here.

Psst. Edward.

Catherine. Sorry.

What are you doing here?

I'm just visiting an old friend.

Get off Jesus.

Catherine.

Don't look at me like that.

Salve, gentlemen.

Ow!

Catherine!

How was I to know that comely young women
are a spiritual danger to monks?

You are no danger to anyone but yourself.

Does Mother heal?

In body, if not in spirit.

Our brute of a father does not help.

Do you know what I find even worse
than the pain she bears?

It's the fact that
she must worry about us always.

Being a mother is a terrible job.

Birdy, please do not joust
with our crucified Savior.

Are there no better amusements
around here, Edward?

Perhaps a sacred sword used
to slay a pagan.

Not a sword in sight.

I do not believe you.
If I were a boy, you'd let me see.

Everybody lets boys do everything.

So boring, Edward.

Well, boredom is for
the dull-witted, Bird.

You're not dull, are you?

Of course I'm not dull.

How goes your reading
and the diary I've tasked you with?

I write in my diary every day
and read the Bible over and over again.

I know all the important prayers by heart.

I have something for you, actually.

A gift.

Oh, good. A book.

Well, now that I've captured
your attention,

mayhap you actually read it.

It is a book of the saints.

Each day, a different saint.

Promise me you shall read,

and read and read and read some more.

And write, too.

Knowing your own story
will be your salvation.

Promise.

Mayhap I could be a saint.

Well, for starters, I believe saints
help their nursemaids with the washing.

Why does Edward want me to read this book

so full of strangers and their woes?

For saints are just dinguses
I will never actually meet.

At the very least, I'll become an expert
on their gruesome deaths,

which are so displeasing
that they please me terribly.

What does "defenestration" mean?

- A mission towards glory.
- Ow! Ow!

-I don't want to be a lady,
so perhaps a saint? -Ow! Ow.

Birdy, put some shoes on,
for heaven's sake.

I cannot.

If I'm to be a saint,
I'm to practice self-sacrifice.

Ow!

Any other jolly little plans
for this afternoon?

Why, yes, actually.

I'm denying myself buns.

I'm also going to sleep
with a comb beneath my back,

for I must emulate Saint Blandina,

who was scourged,
placed on a red-hot grate

and then thrown before a wild steer

who tossed her into the air
with his horns.

Tragically, she was killed with a dagger.

You'll meet a dagger
if you don't put your bloody shoes on.

- Birdy.
- Morwenna!

I cannot believe I must bear this
with good humor month after month.

I would prefer a monthly bath in poo

or to wrestle a lion.

Oh, to wrestle a lion.

Well, can I be blamed
for wanting us to have a bit of joy,

for wanting you to have a bit of joy?

Every year for the past six,
we've lost a child.

Rollo, why did you not tell me
we have naught to spend?

I want only to be your partner,
to stand beside you as lady of this manor.

Because the lady needs
to have her garlands,

she needs to have her silver twine,
she needs to have apples in her roast,

and I have to keep this family
from descending into utter poverty!

And Birdy is our only currency,
so we're in real trouble.

Ow.

Perkin?

Yes, Bird?

What do you suppose about kissing?

Suppose how?

Might it not be as vile
as we once thought?

God's thumbs, it's slimy!

Ugh.

Come on.

What do you even want, anyway?

Good tidings.

From Kent, where the weather is finer
than the silk from Kashmir.

Laid out upon a table for 20.

May I ask you, where's your mistress?

- Our mistress?
- Yes.

Lady Catherine of the manor.

The fair cherub
I have traveled so far to meet.

What are your intentions
with our mistress, sir?

If she is as fair and as goodly
and as decent as I've heard tell,

then I suppose
I shall marry her forthwith.

- Marry her? Lady Catherine?
- Uh, uh...

Yes, I've come here to propose marriage.

To our-our Lady Catherine?

- You cannot mean our Lady Catherine.
- Our Lady Catherine?

I do mean your Lady Catherine,
as a matter of fact.

As I've told you,
I've ridden all this way.

I've actually incurred several
psoas injuries during the process,

because Hercules is broader
than you might imagine.

So, if you could just tell me where...

No, no, sir, we know Lady Catherine,
and you really shouldn't have bothered.

We're just a bit confused why you would
travel all this way for such a...

Sh-She's a creature, a vile creature.

- All, uh, teeth and hair and...
- Awful. Terrible.

...vomit and snot.

- Some say she has a third ear.
- She does.

Have you seen this third ear?

- I've seen it.
- Where?

Back of her neck.

Is it functional?

- Spare.
- Spare.

Now, what... where is the Lady Catherine
that I have heard of

who has ebony tresses
that tumble like waterfalls?

The Lady Catherine that has
the curves of an archipelago?

Arch-Archipelago?

What is an archipelago?

A small series of little islands,
I believe.

- You've been tricked... cruelly, cruelly tricked.
- You've been tricked.

- Yes, I think...
- Very cruelly, sir.

I have been tricked, and cruelly so.

Sir, you best be off before Lady Catherine
comes and rears her ugly head.

I want to thank you, actually.

- You're very, very dashing.
- Thanks.

You, on the other hand, have been
a little churlish, if I may say so.

Thank you very much, sir.

I will not sneak you a jug of ale, Birdy,
so do not ask it of me.

- I demand to know the meaning of this.
- Meaning of what?

A man has come and asked for me by name.

- Sounds improbable.
- He hails from Kent.

Oh, yes.

Yes. That's good, good, good.

Um, well, you better
get-get yourself washed up.

- I've sent him away.
- You sent him away?

I sent him away.

I'm not interested in meeting him
nor any man with his intentions.

No, Birdy, go up to the high road
and get him back.

I'm afraid he's quite gone.

In fact, he galloped away.

No...

Right. I...

Where's the... Where is the... I need...

Hand.

Things girls cannot do.

Go on Crusades.

Cut their hair.

Be horse trainers.

Laugh very loud.

Marry whom they will.

Be monks.

Drink in alehouses.

Go to hangings.

You will behave like a lady
when a suitor comes to call,

- or we are going to end up in the cooper's cellar.
- Stop. No, Rollo.

- Rollo!
- Do you understand that?

I cannot bear it. Stop it, please.

Do you realize your daughter has sent away
a perfectly good suitor?

Do not rage over that man.

My fathers were kings of Britain long ago.

He's just a simple wool merchant
from Kent.

My darling,
we cannot eat your royal fathers.

We cannot plant your ancestors.

That man was...

incredibly rich.

She is young yet.

She cannot even bear children.

No, I most certainly cannot.

Just give her some time.

Some time.

Just one more day until Uncle George.

After one man brought doom on horseback,
another brings divine hope.

My uncle is so unlike
any other man that I know.

He has a twinkle in his holy green eyes,

a song on his lips and all his teeth.

How was your day, my love?

It was, uh... it was fine.

Don't say "fine," Robert.

It's boring. Don't bore your mother.

I cannot believe that my only sister's
only daughter is now up to my shoulder.

When I left, you were wearing a nappy
with a big wooden pin;

a tiny barbarian the size of a toadstool.

Mother told us that you were
in the Holy Land

wearing a red cross on a white tunic,

nobly fighting for God and Christ
and our king.

The truth, I'm afraid,
was much less picturesque.

My tunic was covered in mud and thistles.

But there was a line, a line of Crusaders,

leading from Jerusalem
all the way to London, wasn't there?

There was a line.

It was a line of the injured
waiting to be treated for their wounds.

Fun and games, it was not.

Will you ever put that wee stick away?

It's not a stick.

It's a bear.

From Uncle George.

- Oh, a gift from Uncle Georgie.
- Quiet!

- Oh, Georgie. Oh...
- Morwenna!

You're just jealous 'cause no one's ever
whittled you a gift.

- No, that's right.
- Especially not a bear.

Like mine, from George.

Oh, no, that's right...
No gifts for poor Morwenna.

Oh, dear.

Come on, get into bed.

That's enough.

- That's enough.
- Uh-huh.

- Night night.
- Night night.

And don't be having my eye out
with that thing.

If I cannot be a hero,

I will love a hero instead.

He will tell my father
he cannot sell me off this way,

and he will fight for me.

Does he look
much like the archangel Michael?

- Mm, no.
- Mm.

No dead saint could be as beautiful as he.

Mm. Well, I must see him for myself, then.

If I were to marry, Aelis...

If... if...

- ...then I should choose him.
- Mm.

If only he were my cousin
and not my uncle.

I'm sorry.

True love can prevail.

You know there's a cottage raising today?

Birdy, you know we would be whipped.

You get whipped?

My father only beats me across the hand
with his rod. That's all.

Cottage raisings are not for girls
with suitors calling.

And so I watched
the cottage raising from the hill,

clean for my suitors
but full of dirty rage.

I shall never smear myself with mud again
and shove Perkin onto the ground.

I shall never get to see a hanging.

I shall never get to have
anything like fun.

And just because
my birthright is to bleed.

No, this game is absolute rubbish.

I feel completely defeated.

- You are so pathetic.
- Shut up!

- Oh, they're hot! Oh, they're hot!
- You have to teach me this.

Many people are afeard
of Allhallows Eve,

of the dead who come back
to visit the earth.

But the only dead I know
are my tiny brothers and sisters

who died before they were even born,
and how could I be afeard of them?

I wish they would come visit.

It would ease my mother's grieving.

- Birdy. Birdy.
- Aelis!

- Do you like my horn?
- It's so lovely.

- Morwenna sewed it.
- It's so sweet.

Oh, sorry.

George.

Hello, Bird. That's a nice-looking crown.

It's a horn.

I saw a man with gloves
like devil's claws,

and I became frightened.

I was hiding behind the henhouse
when this kind gentleman found me.

That is my Uncle George, Aelis.

The one who you've so often spoken of?

Well, yes, it must be he.

For you said he was kind
and handsome, too.

I, too, was quite shaken
by that clawed man

with the long, gnarled fingers and...

I think I saw… -And did you see
the mummer with the, um...

the big lump on his face?

Red, angry lump...
Was that a costume, do you think?

Or, uh, it's a natural affliction?

Let me get you both safely back
to your chambers.

- No, we want to see the mummers and the dancing.
- Yes...

Boo!

I've died, Birdy,

and now I'm just a ghost sent to haunt you
until the end of your life.

Ooh...

That's enough of this silliness, goat boy.

I was simply trying to get back
to my chamber

to read some lovely verse
before falling to peaceful sleep

and entering dreamland.

I'll...

leave you to your friends, then...

Lady Catherine.

My father's agreed I might stay
for a whole fortnight.

Or even two.

I wish you'd written to ask.

How do you know it's convenient for me?

I have a great many chores.

Why am I being so unkind?

I am agitated.

I blame the eel pie.

Come on, little orange...

It is definitely not the eel pie.

Catherine?

Your father has found your monthly rags
stuffed inside the privy.

They were peeking behind the cracks.

- They're not mine.
- Mm-hmm.

How did you know?

Catherine, I am your mother
and lady of this manor.

There is naught I do not see
and naught I do not know,

and I will tell you, it is useless
to stuff your rags, no matter how deep.

Now, I've been trying my best
to protect you.

But your father is waiting for his chance
to make you a wife

and to bring propriety to this manor,
and I can deny him no more.

Do I not have a say?

Everything has its time, its season.

It is your season, my love.

Traitor.

- And a liar and a fiend! Devil!
- Oh! Catherine!

I hate you!

- Birdy, no! Stop it now!
- I hate you! I hate you! -Stop.

- I hate you!
- Stop!

That's enough! That is enough!

I am shocked.

I have not a friend in the world.

I have been cruel to Perkin.

Morwenna has betrayed me.

Uncle George, who brought gaiety
and wonder into my life,

loves Aelis, who is a weasel.

And now my time is here.

I ripen like a peach for plucking.

Birdy.

Unrecognizable.

I feel as though no part of me is my own.

Your father told me to scrub
every nook and cranny of you

before the guests arrive.

Would I choose to die
rather than be forced to marry?

I do not think either option
appealing or fair.

Where is the girl?

I think she's just making herself...

- uh, beautiful for you.
- Bathing her teeth.

Yes, thank you.

Wow. I like this.

- Entertainment.
- Yes.

- For me? Ah, bravo!
- Yes.

Very nice.

Now, where is the girl?

- Yes, where is... where is she?
- Where is the girl?

That is the girl.

Now, may I ask something of you?

Anything, Lady Catherine.

Will you prove your love to me
by wearing my birds upon your face?

To wear them? Like...

This is Juniper.

This is Breadberry.

This is Sir Neal.

Lard Turd.

This one on my head is okay?

Mm-hmm.

Hello.

Oh, he's very close to my face.

If I still had Aelis to speak to,

I might be less lonely in my beatings.

But she has George.

And I have smarting palms.

Might you share some of your passions?

Hobbies.

Your soul's deepest inclination.

I listen to God when he speaks to me.

- A pious girl.
- Mm-hmm.

Usually, he tells me to form an army...
5,000 women strong...

And to go around and gut all men
and leave their entrails as offerings.

Double devil.

Snail's guts.

Fanny in a hat.

Ugh!

No curse is good enough
for these vile suitors.

Or my viler father.

Farting drumsticks!

Ugh!

Our beautiful daughter is...

is going to sing for you.

It's her own composition.

She wrote it herself.

Yes. All right, all right, all right.

You can't.

I can.

No, you can't!

Birdy.

- Birdy.
- Meg! Meg.

I stole the keys off of sleeping Ferth
the gate man.

Here, the heel of the bread
and some butter.

Meg, I knew it.
You've always been a rebel.

And a true friend.

- Oh, milady.
- Not "milady."

Never "milady."

Oh. All right, milady.

Oh.

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

Birdy.

Just Birdy.

When I was young, Father had
a golden Jesus that pissed wine.

Now we just cut the brown parts
from the carrots.

- Wait, this...
- East. East.

- East?
- East.

Ea... Your east or my east?

Your-your west, your east.

- Uh, just northeast.
- What are you looking for?

I want it to feel like heaven is-is...

is-is coming in through the windows
and hitting the lights.

Fear not, for I bring you great news.

To you, a Savior is born.

A child?

It cannot be,

for I am just a simple young virgin.

Why is that so funny?

If she's a virgin, I'm a princess.

I have had nary a man.

There's no room in the inn.

What a crap inn.

We can shelter in this barn

with our baby.

Aw.

We have come to pay him homage
with gifts from the Orient.

My eyes prick and water.

Perhaps I'm allergic to cheer.

After all, a diary is no substitute
for a friend.

I'm sorry.

Me best line was coming.

Keep it very fine, ladies.

Very fine.

Will you be angry with me forever?

- Perhaps I shall be, Aelis.
- Ladies!

We learn best when we close our mouths
and open our ears.

But I have done nothing wrong.

Except for stealing the man I loved
with all my heart.

Behind my back, no less.

To me, you are a deceitful coward.

Oh, shh!

Aelis, I disavow my terrible mouth.

She's a beast, my mouth,
and she acted without my consent.

Bad Birdy! Bad, bad.

- Birdy! Birdy!
- Bad Birdy! Bad! Ow.

Psst.

I am to be married.

To George?

No.

Good.

To a boy of only nine.

George has decided to marry
some torrid old widow named Ethelfritha.

And now you won't even be my friend.

For the first time in my life,
I am choking on my words.

My heart has been shaved
and boiled like a parsnip.

George is to be married.
George is to be married.

George is to be married.

I don't suppose you're taking
any new joiners at the convent?

No.

Pity.

1291 is upon us, and I have seen
the consequences of my horrid temperament.

Friendlessness, boredom, purgatory.

So I embrace a new resolve.

I will try my best to be a lady,

to act and speak as beautifully
as my mother does,

to make my parents and God divinely happy.

I am a woman now,

so I will dress myself.

- It's back to front.
- It's not!

Look.

Disobedience has gotten me nowhere.

What in the gods' name was that?

And who can fight
an inevitable fate, anyhow?

Oh, listen to the birds, birds.

I resisted marriage
and was dealt only pain.

If I embrace it, mayhap there is even...

Feel the breeze.

...pleasure?

Caressing your nostrils.

Lady Catherine, do you enjoy riding?

I do, my lord, really enjoy riding.

Well, perhaps you and my son
might ride together

- whilst we are here.
- Oh, yes.

Will your horses get along?

I-I believe so.

My... my horse has a lovely
and even temperament.

Do you not hate having
to dress up for these meetings?

Lord, yes. I really do.

This dress is so tight,
it's hard to breathe.

Is yours tight?

No, this one's not so bad.

Uh, it's, uh, fortunate that you're here
this evening, um, Fulks,

um, because we have, um,
some rather joyous news

that, uh, we're going to, uh, have a baby.

- What? This is tremendous.
- Yes.

I-I love babies!

What did you say, Father?

Aren't you excited, Catherine?

The midwife has said
it may bleed her out this time.

Not now, Birdy.

This isn't the time, really, is it, Birdy?

Are you trying to kill her?

Do you really want to prove
yourself a man that much?

It is going to die.

- They all die!
- You-you didn't die.

- I didn't die, but the rest do!
- Catherine!

- Catherine, come...
- They all die!

- I do think she's come down with something.
- Shaking.

She's got a little, little, um...
little, little, little bit of...

I think there's a little bit of pox
going around in the village.

- Oh, no, not pox.
- Pox? Pox?

No, I mean, it's not around the village.

- Uh, we best depart.
- No, you don't need to go.

- It's not a big pox.
- It's a small pox.

- It-it's actually... it's a tiny pox.
- Not smallpox.

- It's not the smallpox.
- It's only a small little... pox.

Hello.

I despise you.

I thought we got on rather well.

Let me pass my meal in peace!

My new leaf was short-lived.

But my rebellion will be forever.

What are you trying to do, baptize it?

- Drown it! Drown it!
- I'll get another.

No, Fulks! Fulks!

Fulk, come ba... Fulk!

Fulks!

Why is that bucket so small?!

Do you not understand the danger
that you placed us in?

Catherine!

For once, you might attempt
to set a good example

to our tenants and to our villagers,
to show them what a...

what a... what a lady might be
instead of subjecting us to all the...

shame!

Humiliation!

But I am not a lady, sir,
thus cannot mimic one.

Sit down. Sit down!

When I was a year younger than you,
I inherited a town in shambles.

My father had gambled away every brick,
every pane of glass,

every sack of grain, everything,

so I had to use every ounce

of my cunning and my strength

to bring this town back to prosperity.

Your cunning and your strength?

Among other qualities, yes.

Is that why I saw Grandfather's tapestries
going to auction?

Mother's wedding cups being packed up
and shipped away

because of your cunning and your strength?

I'm your father.

And if I say that you shall be married...

...then married you shall be.

George weds today.

Some marry for love,
some marry for money, some for duty,

and some... like George...
Seem not to know why they marry.

Does anyone present know of any reason

why this man and woman
should not be joined in holy matrimony?

Since there are no objections,
do you take this man to be your husband?

I will.

And will you take this woman
to be your wife?

I... will.

I will.

In no mine Patris...

In no mine Patris...

- Et Filii...
- Et Filii...

Et Spiritus Sancti.

Will you tell your daughter no crying?

- No, she can cry if she wants to.
- Sidebottoms do not cry.

- That is enough.
- She'll get used to it.

And she's got a fine young man there

who is going to grow up into a fine,
uh, specimen.

She has a nine-year-old boy.

Amen.

Amen.

That's it. Push it, push it, push it,
push it, push it, push it.

- I'm pushing.
- That's it, that's it. Thank you.

Does your uncle not look dashing, Birdy?

Corpus bones.

Must my world always be
peppered with shit?

A mouth to shame a pirate.

I'm endeavoring to find
the best curse of them all.

Is it "corpus bones,"
or is it "God's thumbs"?

Or is it a simple
"Satan and all his minions"?

I personally go in for
"death by frying pan."

You're selling mittens.

It grows colder and colder, so I travel

from town to town
searching for those whose fingers shiver.

I have not a coin to my name, sir.

I am but a servant.

A servant in a fancy dress, though.

And if you do not have the funds,
then a kiss will do.

A ki...

Death by frying pan.

I cannot kiss you.

For I have never kissed anyone in my life.

And I would get beat by a rod.

Then can I kiss you
and take all the blame?

That was it? That was what
made George and Aelis go so mad?

Well, he looks rather pleased
with himself.

- Here you go.
- Thank you.

Good evening.

Good evening, mitten man.

So weird.

Yes!

Might I really count that
as my first kiss?

I suppose I would like to,

especially if it's the only one
I'll ever choose to have myself.

I paid for these festivities myself,
you know.

That's the one thing
husbands are good for.

Well, dead ones anyway.

It's very convenient when they die
wealthier than when you wed them,

although still rather sad.

This is the first party
we've had in months.

Oh, dear.

We have no money left, unlike you.

And there's so much food here tonight
that I've lost my appetite.

Maybe love makes me ill.

Who said anything about love?

Do I believe your Uncle George loves me?

No, I do not.

But he will protect me
as only a husband can protect a wife.

And I inherited his title, and, um...

I hear he's rather good with a sword.

And he, in turn, gets to have some land
he can call his own.

See? The perfect trade.

Plus, he is rather gorgeous.

Do you not want to...

love someone properly?

I have other fish to fry.

You are so lucky, little bird.

Look.

You have wings.

You must learn how to harness them,

not flap them all about
and crash to the floor.

Will you excuse me for a minute,

Aunt Ethelfritha?

Of course, little beautiful Bird.

Don't fly the coop.

Try the tart. It's spinach.

- What are you trying to do? You know...
- Just have a nibble.

You know very well I've got
an ulcer the size of a pig's ass.

- It's soft. It's pastry.
- Are you trying to kill me?

Just stop it.

I wish you the same things
you wish for yourself.

What?

I wish you happiness, Aelis.

And I'm so sorry
that I ever said otherwise.

Ever since we quarreled,
I've done nothing but miss you.

And there is so much to tell.

In fact, I have only two words.

Mitten man.

Aelis!

Hey, would you like to see my doll?

He has a turnip for a head.

- And who are you?
- Why, I'm her husband, of course.

- Of course. Of course.
- A fine...

fine, handsome husband he is, too, huh?

Quiet! Quiet!

Silence! Silence!

Another one of them
will blow this shithole down.

You muck-spouting fopdoodles!

I'm the seventh-richest man in Yorkshire.

And I want to fornicate.

- Come here, you little scrubber.
- Ew!

Adults call me insolent,

but have they ever met
their own drunken friends? Blech.

Come on, come on. Upsy.

There you go.

Do you not love a wedding
with every beat of your heart?

No, I do not.

But it is strange that I should like
the woman who is taking George from us.

Life can be quite a shock, Bird.

Goodbye, Georgie.

Bye, George!

That vomit was yet another shock.

Did you have a nice morning, Birdy?

Perplexingly pleasant.

I like your, uh...

your hair... hair snakes.

Why does the shaggy-bearded cretin remain?

Uh, Lord Murgaw, did you know
that Catherine here spins

some of the finest yarn in Stone bridge?

I don't care too much about fabric.

I'd dance in the nude
if it were not a sin.

I bloody would.

So, what do you like to... what do you
like to do? Do you like to, um...

What's the thing that-that men do

when they run after the...
with the animal with the...

- With the arrow? Um, hunting.
- Fishing. Fishing, fishing.

- No, no, I know hunting.
- Jousting.

- Uh... it's something that men do.
- Chasing?

- Jousting.
- Climbing trees.

- All right, Robert. No.
- Climb a tree, then piss in it.

So, what-what is it you like to do?

I collect rare lizard skins.

And I do puzzles.

One piece a night,
everything in moderation.

Except for the carnal.

Oh, my God.

What's "carnal"?

It's just a... it's just a funny word.

Something you should talk about to Mother.
She might know.

- Really?
- Yeah.

Enter.

Yes, Father?

My sweetest girl.

My own raven-haired lass.

My beloved daughter.

"Beloved daughter."

I'm not sure of who you speak, sir.

My lady of Lithgow,
your bridegroom awaits you,

and none of your tricks
will profit you now.

The charade is over,
and you will move forward and out.

The guest?

Th-The...

the-the man they call Shaggy Beard
is my betrothed?

Catherine, be respectful.
His name is Lord John Murgaw VIII.

And he is the last
and blessedly most wealthy suitor.

Is that clear?

He is not a man.

He is a cave-dwelling troll.

A murderer does not deserve
such a punishment.

It cannot... It... it will not be.

Luckily, I am most experienced
at outwitting suitors.

Uh...

Catherine can be prone to unusual bouts
of silence sometimes, can't she, darling?

Well, she speaks when she wishes

and is a great deal of fun
most of the time.

Lady Aislinn, may I say,

I can only imagine how delightful
you must have been

when your husband first procured you.

You're bold, y-you're playful,

but you have a strong sense of duty.

Exactly my sort of woman.

The only women I can't abide by
are criers.

Can't bear them. They do me naughty.

- Oh, here we go.
- Oh, wonderful.

Oh, criers. Hmm, I'm an expert crier,

since the day I was born.

No.

No, Father, you can't have killed Jiminy.

You can't have killed Jiminy!

- Oh, Birdy.
- Catherine.

Jiminy was
the only friend that I ever had!

Oh, Birdy.

Jiminy!

Who in God's name is Jiminy?

Lady Catherine, am I to believe
that pig was a friend of yours.

Spicy.

- Oh, my God.
- Please, Rollo, make it stop.

I can't control it.

Go on, let's eat the bugger.

I like her.

Get off.

Ooh.

Who goes there?

'Tis I, Lady Catherine.

Ah. 'Tis your sweet wench, sir.

How dare you call my future wife a wench,
you scobberlotcher!

Sorry. I was just s-saying
low-quality things.

I was not expecting to reveal
me skivvies to you

before our wedding day, Lady Catherine.

Well, why dabble in formality, my lord,
when we soon know

that what's yours is mine,
what's mine is yours?

Indeed it is, and indeed it will be.

Indeed it is, and indeed...

There's too many bloody voices
in this room!

Yes, mine being the problem.

I heard that your joints ache,
so I took it upon myself

to prepare you a traditional
Stone bridge poultice.

It is, uh, rather lovely
and highly medicinal.

You simply smother it over
your elbows, knees, ankles,

and let it soak into your bones.

You are even more considerate
than you are beautiful, young lady.

Considerate and beautiful,
and she curtsies.

Whole package. Thank you.

Good day, my lords.

- Good day, milady.
- Bye.

Ah, my finest work yet.

I can taste the freedom.

Poetry, that is something, isn't it?

Perkin truly is my heart's brother.

And so we managed to resolve our troubles

with a good old-fashioned arm wrestle,
which I won fair and square.

- You can do it. You can do it. Go on.
- Go on.

Go on.

- Meg?
- Yes, Birdy?

What really is a virgin?

A virgin?

Well, um, you know how
a man has a sword down there?

Well, women have a box.

And, um, when you don't want to be
a virgin anymore,

you ask the man if he can put
his sword in your box.

Um, and it goes in and out and in and out.

And it makes a kind of smoosh sound,
and then it's done, really.

I thought a virgin was where
God made you pregnant.

Oh, no, that was only that one virgin.

That is what a virgin is.

I had no idea what I was asking.

Lady Catherine?

Lady Catherine, might I join you?

You're the reason I stink of shit.

If the shoe fits.

You thought you could outsmart me
with tomfoolery,

but what you didn't bargain for
is that I...

like the chase.

Tomorrow, I shall be giving your father
the marriage purse,

a large sum of gold for him,

but this is for you.

Take it.

And when you spend that first piece
of silver on something pretty,

just remember that it is you

finally saying yes to me.

He will not be able to marry me,

for I will not spend the coins,
just angrily hoard them.

- Birdy, come back here.
- Come back here.

Birdy, come back.

- Stop it, Birdy! Listen to me!
- Go on and whip me!

- That's what you want, isn't it?
- Put your hands down.

The lord has officially proposed,
and you must pack your bags.

- You must pack your bags at once.
- You need to leave here.

- No. No! No!
- Yes! Birdy, yes!

- Yes, yes.
- You can't make me go.

- Listen to me, Birdy.
- You can't make me go.

- I'm tired. I am tired.
- He's tired.

- You've got to do what I tell you.
- You need to stop...

- I want to meet the baby.
- The baby does not come for months yet.

You have to let me meet the baby.

Please, Father, just let me meet the baby.

I have to.

Fine.

You can meet the baby, but the moment...

- The moment...
- Robert, shut up!

The moment the baby is here,

then you are not.

Perkin!

Perkin. Perkin!

Why are you wailing so?

Perkin, we must be married.

You'd make
a sorry bride in this state, Birdy.

All we have to do is
get married tomorrow in the village.

And only Morwenna and Meg
and the pigs have to be there,

and-and I will be Lady Perkin,

- and the goats will be our children.
- Birdy.

I do not want to marry you.

You have to marry me.

My life hangs in the balance,
and you refuse me.

And what of my life? My plans?

Do you ever ask what I dream of
when I lay my head down at night?

No.

If I was of fair face like Aelis,
you'd marry me.

It's not about being fair-faced.

- What is it about, then?
- I don't know.

I just don't want to marry you.

Or Aelis or Meg or Morwenna

or any other woman God has
or shall put on this Earth.

Would you rather marry a man instead?

Perkin.

We must run.

We must run far away and never come back.

That is always
your answer to everything, Birdy.

Do you not see?

You would like to ride into the Crusades,

but you are a lady.

I would like to be a great scholar,

yet I cannot even read.

We do not get to choose what we do.

Life does not care about us.

We are given our stations until death.

Through the buckle...

...till the pin...

Holds the belt-end

safely in.

Hat on head...

for rain or sun;

Buttons... do up every one.

- She kicks like a pony.
- She?

I might like a sister.

Edward and Robert have each other.

I'm quite alone.

Well, I should like that, too,

but would she be as perfect
as my firstborn daughter?

You are as naughty
as God had hoped you might be.

Why does this bit on your neck
bulge like a rope?

That's what happens
when you touch fire, Bird.

You touched fire, Mum?

Birdy, fire touched me.

That's why I tell you to obey.

I was once willful, too,

and my father showed me
how he felt about that with the iron.

So when you try to bend
the ways of the world,

I cheer for you, Birdy,
but I fear for you.

To see you hurt, I could not sustain that.

I would rather see you settled
than seared.

There are worse fathers than yours.

But what of husbands, Mother?

The man I'm meant to marry.

Well...

I believe that he will protect you

and that he will see
the goodness in your eyes

and that will bring out
the goodness in his.

I have to believe that.

Enter.

Mama, I require your... your counsel.

But I will wait until your bed
is free of fleas.

Children, please,
let us leave behind our childhood teasing

and act as a family whilst we still can.

Does my heart a great deal of good.

Yes, Robert.

I, uh, have word from Gloucestershire.

- Gloucestershire?
- Aelis.

Indeed.

"The child husband is dead."

Dead?

"Fever. Oh, Little Bird,

everyone cries, but I cry with joy,
for I am coming home."

The message was mine! Pass it.

Life can be very cruel, my loves.

She said they buried
his turnip-head doll beside him.

Birdy.

Mother, um, do you...

You know, c-could I...

You did well to not lose hope that you
might find your own love, my chick-a-loo.

What is going on here?

I do not like to be on the wrong end
of secrets, Mother.

Birdy, your brother
has long harbored hopes

that he might propose to Aelis.

- Aelis?
- Aelis.

Aelis, yeah.

That Robert?

Mm-hmm.

- My Aelis?
- Mm.

No, no, no, no.

Sh-She's not just your Aelis.

She's my Aelis, too.
She's everyone's Aelis.

I mean, she's... she-she's like Jesus.

You know, she's like springtime.

Really like Jesus, 'cause sh...
'cause she-she would sacrifice anything.

She's got really long hair,
and she's-she's really clean.

And I... I mean,
I would be so happy if-if,

you know, when I ask her to marry me
and stuff, if she... if she said yes.

And I-I would consider myself a man

completely reformed, different, reborn...

...and I would be very, very happy.

She's nothing like you.

Well, I guess I don't know everything.

I think by sneaking, spying
and ensorcelling,

I can avoid surprises,
but they come anyway.

Sometimes in the form of unexpected love.

Ah, you're a beautiful horse,
Belvedere. You are.

It is a good day, for I head to Aelis's

and we can rejoice in the news
that we are now and finally sisters.

I bring a "welcome to the family" gift
of preserves from the kitchen

and a comb for her beautiful hair.

I once caught Morwenna
staring at this driver

while he washed blood
from a boil on his thigh.

She calls him Golden Tiger
when she speaks of him in secret.

Imagine life with a peasant.

So simple, so passionate, so...

toothless.

Birdy!

- Whoa.
- Aelis!

Thank you.

Aelis!

Why are you all standing
in the road like cattle?

Whatever's the emergency?

Aelis, what's the matter?
It's a happy day.

You're going to be married.
We are to be sisters.

- Why are you crying?
- Young Catherine,

please tell your drunk of a father
that his offer is offensive.

Oh, she is not one of your...
your hunting dogs.

The ones that you pay for
in gold bricks. She...

she is a girl, just as I once was.

Shut up, shut up, Berenice!

I grow so tired of your voice.

Well, I grew weary of yours.

Please!
Can we please stop shouting, please?

There do seem to be
a lot of raised voices.

I always say,
"Talk like butter, not knives."

And whomst are you?

My daughter is a virgin,

confirmed by exam,

and can command more than twice

the pitiful marriage purse
your father proposes. Hmm.

They pay more for virgins?

Aelis, they pay more for vir...

You men are not God. You don't...

You don't get to decide who we are,
where we go

or how much we cost
like we're just things.

We're not things! We're people!

And we can think and we can hear
and we can feel!

And you just broke
my best friend's heart... your daughter...

Because of your greed.

Insolent.

Whelp.

What difference does that make?

A young girl's master merely changes
from father to husband.

- Can we move?
- Where to?

Rutherford.

I'm sorry, Aelis.

I want to save you.
More than anything, I do.

- You fly, Birdy.
- Birdy! Birdy!

Do you see?

You, get inside.
Get inside and straight to your room.

I am all out of tricks, it seems.

Well, all but one.

Birdy?

I have convinced Golden Tiger
to give me his clothes

so that I can run to the only place
I think they might see me

as more than a shiny gold coin.

Hey! Nice dress.

- Give us a twirl!
- No.

Uncle George is a hero,

and mayhap he can tell me
how to be one myself.

Not just in fantasies but in real life.

We've nothing for you, peasant boy.

No, Uncle George, it is I, Catherine.

No, no, no, no, no,
you've got to peel it first.

- Just like this?
- Yes.

Now smell.

Mmm.

Oh.

- It's delicious.
- Mmm!

It is delicious.

I tasted my first orange upon my father's
return from the Moorish country.

Well, I should definitely like to go
to the Moorish country.

You'd like to go anywhere
your father isn't.

We have a baby due any day.

I am to marry Shaggy Beard.

Of Lithgow?

It is he.

Oh, Birdy...

I knew it would be someone of note,
but I did not think that sort of note.

Lord Murgaw keeps a fine house, you know.

He'll keep you well.

He owns three small towns

and a leper colony.

Oh, perhaps you can keep an arboretum.

George himself keeps a garden of plants
beloved by Christ.

It's barely a garden, my love.

It's a place to smoke my pipe in peace.

Thus far, only the crows, I think,
are impressed with my green fingers.

Oh, the crows adore George.

My love, I must retire.

I've only just arrived.

I tire easily these days, Bird.

My back stoops, and my stomach bloats.

In the morning, I'll deliver you back
to Stone bridge.

Uncle George?

Will you tuck me in?

All right. You blow out the candle.

No, I want you to tell me a story.

Please.

I don't think I know any stories.

You've traveled the world.

You've seen the ocean.
You must know stories.

Ah, but I did not keep a little book
like you do, Bird.

So all the stories have slipped
through my fingers like snow

when I try to take them home.

Uncle George?

Hmm?

If you're a hero,
then why did you not try and save me?

Save you?

From Shaggy Beard.

From my future.

But, you see, Bird...

I'm not a hero.

Can you forgive me...

my sweet girl?

Heroes are only in storybooks.

Even the saints only escape by dying.

That doesn't sound
like much fun, either, does it?

Mm. Maybe.

Do you love Ethelfritha?

As best I know how.

Do you love... me?

Desperately.

Good night.

Good night.

Birdy. Birdy, Birdy, Birdy, Birdy.

Wake up, wake up, wake up.

We must go and feed the owls.

- The owls?
- Yes.

- We've got owls!
- You-you've got...

We have to hurry.

- You have owls?
- Yes.

Whoa.

I keep birds.

But mine are very small.
They're not big like this.

These are more than birds. They're...

- They're creatures.
- They're beautiful.

Yes.

I am a creature, too, you know.

Are you a creature?

Yes.

Shaggy Beard, hmm?

It is not fair.

You're right, Birdy.

It is not fair.

You should not have to marry him.

- No, I should not.
- Or be a lady.

I hate being a lady.

Perhaps... we could run away.

We?

Yes.

I'm rich. You're young.

Together we could have it all.

Let's make our way to Arabia.

Arabia?

Taste the orange straight from the tree.

- Have you ever met a lion?
- No.

A sultan?

You could slay a sultan and take his gold!

Yes!

- Yes, I would.
- Yes!

- Definitely.
- Oh, Birdy!

Oh, Birdy, Birdy.

What?

I would miss Morwenna, my nurse.

You silly girl, you're too big for nurses.

And I'd miss Perkin, my dearest friend.

Friend? Who needs friends when...
wh-when you have adventure and...

At least if I was in Lithgow,
I could visit home.

- But...
- I could check on my mother.

I could sleep in my own bed at Christmas.

If we went on a big adventure,
I wouldn't be reunited with Aelis,

and I wouldn't see the baby grow.

- They'd miss me, wouldn't they?
- Yes.

They would... they'd miss me, Birdy.

Uncle George,
next time a peasant raps on your door,

will you please give them
something to eat?

Bye, Birdy.

Bye, Uncle George.

Birdy.

You pest, you rat!

We were so afraid.

Golden Tiger arrived late last night
wearing your cape, crying.

- Morwenna, Morwenna, do not weep.
- Oh...

- Do not weep.
- Birdy.

When you do,
you puff up and resemble a roast beef.

Oh!

My Bird.

It is your mother.

Push more still, Lady Aislinn!

- Right. Here's the basket.
- Gather your strength yet!

Mama?

Is she crowning?

Mama, it's your Birdy. I am back.

- Mama, I'm back.
- Birdy, come away.

She cannae hear you just now.

Mama, I promise I'll always be the person
you want me to... you want me to be.

A crown!

The skull too big to pass.

- Nothing can be done.
- I can do it.

Father, you must baptize.
Now! Bless them both.

Our Father, who art in heaven...

- Stop it!
- ...hallowed be thy name.

- Stop it! I can do it!
- Thy kingdom come, thy will be done

on earth as it is in heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread...

Did I hear you're-you're just giving up?

We have tried all there is to try.

The baby's stuck deep within her hips.

No! No! Doubters! Doubters! All of you!

- In the name...
- Shut up!

Midwife, you will stay,

And you will not sleep
until our baby is delivered forth safely.

I will not lose another... another child.

Do you hear me?
And I will not lose my holy wife.

Do you understand me?
Do you understand me?

Yes.

Thank you. We don't need you.

Get out. Get out, and don't come back.

Go get some more boiling water
and some more rags.

- And some butter.
- My darling.

My darling, my brave...

beautiful darling, look at me.

- You must look at me. You are so strong.
- Rollo, if this...

if this is meant to be,
then it's meant to be,

and if it is not, I ask you one thing.

Can you make sure our children
find their place in this world?

And not just any place; their place.

Listen to me. Look at me. Look at me.

Look at me.

All that I am is us.

All that I could be, you already are.

You're so strong. You're so wise.

You're so powerful.

You're so grumpy in the mornings.

You're so... you're so close to God

without even having to utter his name.

I want to make you laugh
and make you safe.

And I'm not gonna live in a world
where our children's children

don't get to make you laugh

when they tumble in the grass
in front of us when we're old.

Huh? Can you try?

If you try, then I'll try, too.

Don't stand idle, please.

Get a doctor. Get a doctor.

Get two doctors.

Get three!

Take the rope.

You're so strong.

Got it?

Yes.

Come on, darling.

Hi, angel.

Aw.

Our baby was born last evening.

A dear, beautiful, scrawny little girl.

In fact, two of them.

My father, for all his bellowing
about sons, is floating on air.

Which brings me to the strangest words
I have ever said:

"Thank you," to my father.

The most unlikely agent of a miracle
that I know.

We will call them
Eleanor and Mary Catherine.

Proper yet lovely.

I wish I had more time
to teach them tricks.

You like the stars?

Trying to escape?

I've spent my whole life trying to escape.

I feel something changed inside of me.

And just because I cannot be happy

does not mean that I do not wish
happiness for others.

Joy is infectious, I am learning.

I want to save Aelis,
and I think I know a way,

even if it means sacrifice.

Is it... is it coins?

- Yes, Shaggy Beard's.
- Wait, for me?

- Mm-hmm.
- Is it...

Is it enough?
Is it... is it enough, Father?

Yes, you fool. I counted it.

Wonderful.
I'll be able to buy my tiger back.

Yeah, this is enough... get the tiger back.

- Hold on, um...
- Robert, Robert.

- I'm-I'm jesting.
- Oh, you're jesting.

A wedding is forthwith.

Apparently.

All right.

Well, this means I'm a husband, does it?

- Well, not yet, but, uh...
- No, I am.

- It means I'm a husband, so...
- All right.

This is really nice.

It's the first thing you've done for me.

It's fantastic, Father.

Uh...

This was as much for Aelis
as it was for my brother.

Likely more.

She is safe now.

I may not be safe with her, but I do know

that she will walk on my grounds...

...sleep in my quarters,
watch out for Perkin

and feel something like love.

We are having a wedding
for my Aelis and her Robert.

Yeah!

It may be the last time I ever celebrate,
and so I had better enjoy it.

Aw.

Come on, Birdy!

- Go, Aelis!
- Birdy!

Ah, there we go.

Love you, Robert!

One more night in my own bed.

Then Shaggy Beard.

I'll miss you two.

Do not cry. Do not cry.

God's thumbs, I'm going to cry.

Goodbye, Birdy.

Bye, Birdy.

Love you, Birdy.

Birdy!

Don't let that smelly old man
do what we talked about.

No.

Bye.

Sometimes, as the man of the house,

you have to make very hard decisions.

I seem to have come down
with me yearly hay fever.

I trust you can prepare a proper poultice
for your lordship.

Me health has never been good, Catherine,

but I've always dealt with it
by being pure of habit

and maintaining a stolid countenance.

Aye. A regular schedule of cold baths
and requiring that the servants

dust under the wardrobes
to rid the space of impurities.

- -
- ROLLO: Stop, stop, stop, stop!

- My lord?
- My lord, indeed.

I have changed my mind.

Excuse me, lord. I've not heard you
properly, for me allergies.

I've changed... We've changed my mind.

My mind has been changed.
The girl stays with us.

For the time being.

Frankly, sir, I would burn in hell
for allowing my daughter

to spend her life with a man as rank

and uniformly uncompelling as yourself.

She would die of boredom, and furthermore,

you resemble a bear who has attempted
union with our local locksmith.

It cannot be.

- Out of the carriage, Birdy.
- Stay there!

Sir, you have spent the dowry
that I gave you,

so I do not see what more
we have to discuss.

I am walking back up that path
with my own daughter on my own arm.

If you want Lady Catherine...

we will duel, sir.

Well, that seems fair. A duel.

A duel... that's what... that's what we do.

Let me... let me think. Yes.

Right, a duel.

Am I to believe that
my father plans to fight this man,

swordplay being a skill
he does not possess,

- in order to keep me...
- Yep.

...his greatest pest from having to marry?

Robert, get my-my... duel accoutrements.

Right.

- Etienne, me sword.
- Yes, my sweet lord.

We're having a duel, everybody!

Duel!

- So, duel to the... to the death or...
- Aye.

- Yep.
- And if, by some miracle, you do not die,

I promise you
life-changing injuries today, sir.

Thank you.

Duel! Duel! Duel! Duel! Duel!

If this duel is won by I,
Lord Rollo of Stone bridge,

then you will return our lady.

And if it is won by I, Sir Murgaw

of more villages than I can name
in one earthly breath,

I shall be leaving with my bride.

- Someone say, "Go."
- Go!

Go on, Father!

Aah!

Father! Father?

Rollo.

Father?

It's all right. It's all right, Robert.

I am too afraid to speak, but if I could,

I would tell you not to lose blood for me.

You have Mama and the babies
to look after.

Be careful, Father.

- Hit him! Hit him!
- Come on, you have him! You have him now!

Oh, me back's gone!

Me back! Me back's gone. Me back's gone.

I have a case of severe spinal weakening.

It tingles. It tingles, sir.

- Pause. Pause.
- No, no, no, no, no.

There is no clause to pause
for spinal weakening, lord.

It's called losing, my friend.

It is not a defeat, sir.

I am retired hurt.

We shall be leaving forthwith.

Don't you dare!

Mama?

Not without giving us back our lady,
you're not!

Birdy?

- Give us back our lady!
- Give us back Birdy!

- Birdy! Birdy!
- Give us back Birdy!

Give us back our lady!

Give us back our lady! Give us back Birdy!

Birdy!

Yeah!

If I've inherited
a bit of my father's heart,

I suppose I shall leave it
here in my chest.

Bye, Juniper.

I will never fully fathom
what my father did for me.

What any father should do
for any daughter...

Goodbye, Breadberry.

...but rarely does.

Better late than never.

Goodbye, Sir Neal.

Sir Neal.

I wish I could help every girl
in the world,

but for now, I am enough.

Goodbye, Lard Turd.

My favorite.

But don't tell Breadberry.

And I know he has not granted me a pardon,

only a reprieve from the most ungodly
beast of marriage,

but my father will find that my gratitude
does not mean I have lost my fight.

It is in this field I raged and dreamed
and met Aelis in secret

and cried over Uncle George

and over the fate
I have been able to trick just a bit.

This is the goat farm where I met Perkin
when I was but a babe,

hiding from Morwenna's silly slap.

And here is where the smell of bread
is so strong

it makes me want to eat
the whole entire world

as if it were a mere loaf.

And someday I will take my little sisters
to the tippy-top of the village,

and I will say, "Run, little girls.

Lift your skirts and run
for everyone to see."

Golden Tiger...

I've been waiting, hoping,

dreaming of this moment.

Letters make words, words make...

Someday this journal
will belong to my sisters.

The two of you can see what I made
of becoming a woman.

It was not much, but it was my own.

For right now, it's up to you
to decide, Edward.

Has writing in this diary made me
more learned or simply cheekier?

- Okay, here.
- Okay, I'm gonna throw it.

Things girls can do:

run in the fields...

...invent original curses, save the day,

pee standing up...
Well, that one was a bit tricky...

And keep fighting,
no matter who may come on horseback.

Let's party like it's 1299! Yay!