The Tudors (2007–2010): Season 1, Episode 7 - Message to the Emperor - full transcript
Sir William Compton is diagnosed on his Warwickshire estate with highly contagious 'sweating sickness', the physician bleeds his back- death comes swift, his body is burned before burial, ...
You think you know a story,
but you only know how it ends.
To get to the heart of the story,
you have to go back to the beginning.
Sir William.
- Sir William. What is it?
- Go and fetch the physician.
Go and get him now.
Sir.
Good God, man.
Why did no one wake him?
Sleep in these cases is fatal.
Keep away. Keep away, you fools.
Your master
has the sweating sickness.
You two. You, stay.
We must try and treat him.
Poor fellow.
Turn him over.
For the love of God, get on with it.
We may yet save him.
I'm going to cut into his back.
For I heard that it sometimes works.
It draws out some of the toxin.
Hold him now.
- What are you doing?
- May I not meet him?
God, woman, out. Out.
His Majesty the king
and Lady Anne Boleyn.
- Wolsey.
- Your Majesty.
Mistress Anne.
You are most welcome.
I must thank Your Eminence...
...for the magnificent brooch
you sent me.
I am so glad you liked it.
It is Italianate.
I thought the craftsmanship superb.
I'm sure Your Majesty
will be pleased...
...with the presents sent by the king
of France. A golden chalice...
...gold silk altar cloths...
...and tapestries worth,
I'm sure, at least 30,000 ducats.
So we are once more allies
with the French.
Indeed. And we are both officially
at war with the emperor.
Good. It pleases me.
As it pleased the emperor to announce
he has just had a son.
By the princess
he jilted my daughter for.
- How is the shrimp, Lady Anne?
- Perfect, Your Eminence.
Thank you. You are too generous,
in everything.
So, what of our personal matter?
Your Majesty, I have arranged
to send two of my colleagues...
...two young lawyers,
Stephen Gardiner, my secretary...
...and Edward Foxe, to meet the pope
at Orvieto, near Rome...
...where he still resides,
in wretched discomfort apparently.
What will you have these lawyers do?
They will press upon
His Holiness...
...the necessity for his cooperation.
He must recognise,
in both civil and canon law...
...the invalidity
of Your Majesty's marriage.
I have read countless texts
on the matter.
Sometimes reading well into the night
and giving myself terrible headaches.
But I am more assured now
than ever...
...of the spiritual and legal justice
of my case.
- My conscience is clear.
- As it should be.
And Your Majesty
must rest assured...
...that these two gentlemen,
these two restless lawyers...
...will not leave Orvieto
until they have attained satisfaction.
Good.
Very good.
Have you spoken recently
with the king?
No, Your Majesty.
Cardinal Wolsey refuses my requests,
and in a most high-handed manner.
It is something I have learned
about the English.
A small advantage makes them
overbearing...
...while the slightest adversity
makes them despondent.
I have received a coded letter from
your nephew, the emperor.
He declares his undying support
for you in this ugly matter.
You may wait for me here.
Yes, Your Majesty.
Pray continue.
He has already written a letter
to His Holiness Pope Clement...
...warning him of the king's
brutal intentions.
He has asked Clement to dismiss
Wolsey as official legate...
...and declare you and the king
legally married.
He tells you to be strong.
I try to be.
But so much now is hidden
from me.
Tell him that I trust in him more
than anyone else.
Except in God.
- Mistress Hastings.
- Dr. Linacre?
As soon as he heard the news,
the king sent me here.
Alas to no avail.
Mistress Hastings,
I know you were his common-law wife.
He was in every way
a most lovely and loving man.
His Majesty will miss
his companionship a great deal.
- Let me see him.
- There is a grave risk.
- About which we know so little.
- Please.
Oh, my poor, sweet darling.
Protect us from evil.
Forgive me.
You must burn all his bedding
and clothing.
He must be in the ground first thing.
Gentlemen, here is a personal letter
from the king to the pope...
...thanking him in advance
for attending to his suit...
...sympathetically.
How is His Holiness
likely to respond?
To be honest with you, Mr. Gardiner,
I am not absolutely sure.
The pope was an abused prisoner
of the emperor's mercenaries.
And even though the emperor reputedly
allowed him to escape to Orvieto...
...his condition continues to be
little better there.
He leads a most sad life,
locked up in a ruined castle.
In which case, why should the pope
favour the emperor...
...who has caused him nothing
but misery over the king of England...
...who has never caused him
any harm at all?
The trouble is, Your Eminence...
...the swords of the king of England
are much further away...
...than the swords of the emperor.
Diplomacy is nearly always settled
by such proximity.
Spoken like a true lawyer.
If all else fails, use threats.
Tell His Holiness...
...that if the king can't get satisfaction
from the papal court...
...he will find other means
to satisfy his conscience...
...and rid himself of his present wife.
Do I make myself clear?
Yes, Eminence. We understand.
Godspeed, gentlemen.
The evening after William died,
his servants began stealing his effects.
In his will, he bequeathed
this to the king.
I managed to save it.
William is buried in the churchyard.
So too are the servants...
...who also caught and died
of the sweat in the last 24 hours.
I don't know what to say to you.
- My lord Norfolk.
- Your Eminence.
- What do you want?
- A word with you if I might.
- In private.
- Very well.
You are commanded
to return at once...
...to your estates in East Anglia.
Commanded?
- By whom?
- By His Majesty.
In his own hand.
What for?
His Majesty would like you
to supervise...
...grain production
and North Sea trade.
Trade?
Trade?
What do you take me for?
A butcher's son?
As you see, my lord,
these are not my orders.
Poor William. Is this all
that remains of an entire life?
We must see that these jewels
get back to his unfortunate lady.
William died at Warwickshire
which is a long way from here...
...and God willing,
the disease won't spread.
But you should fortify yourselves
against it in any case.
Now, these are plasters
to heal ulcers.
An unguent which
cools inflammation and stops itching.
This helps digestion,
this soothes dry skin.
And this ointment will comfort
your cock if it's sore.
Thank you.
These are called pills of Rasis.
They're named after the Turk
who invented them.
They are said to be good
against the sweating sickness.
But this infusion is even better.
What is it?
It's a mixture of marigold...
...Manus christi,
a very efficacious herb...
...sorrel, meadow plant,
linseed vinegar...
...ivory scrapings,
all mixed with sugar.
- Take some.
- Are you sure?
Someone told me taking infusions
was the worst thing.
Trust me.
It'll make you feel sick.
But it's better
than the sickness it prevents.
Mistress Hastings.
Bury her beside Sir William.
That's so beautiful.
It's just something for a friend.
Forgive me, I can't work unless I'm...
Of course.
Good night, Thomas Tallis.
Wait.
What's your name?
- Joan.
- Stay a moment.
Why me?
Do you think the world judges you
both the same?
Yes. It seems to.
I don't.
I see the differences between you.
When I looked at you,
I saw a light around your head.
A light?
You mean like a halo?
Yes. Like a circle of light.
You're weird.
May I kiss you, Joan?
- Good morning, chamberlain.
- Your Majesty.
May I present
His Highness Jean de Bellay...
...bishop of Bayonne,
the new French ambassador.
Your Majesty, I am happy
to present my credentials.
And I am happy to be once more
friend and ally to your master.
Thank him for his precious gifts.
It is a pleasure, Your Highness.
So, Your Excellence, how is the war
against the emperor going?
Your Majesty has no cause
for anxiety.
A French army and
a fleet of our allies, the Genoese...
...have hopelessly besieged
the emperor's soldiers at Napoli.
Sooner or later,
Charles must surrender...
...and leave Italy altogether.
That is truly excellent news.
Your Excellence,
allow me to introduce...
Is this not Mademoiselle Anne?
His Eminence, Cardinal Wolsey,
has told me all about you.
He did not tell how beautiful you are.
For a Frenchman, that is a crime.
But Frenchmen tell every woman
she is beautiful.
Is that not a crime too?
- I have a gift for you.
- For me?
For you, sir.
This dog is very fast...
...really formidable.
- What's his name?
- Wolsey.
You ought to be glad, sweetheart.
His Excellence has informed me...
...that the emperor is soon
to be driven out of Italy.
He will no longer be able to stand
in the way of our happiness.
Go back to your wife.
Halt! In the name of the king!
Did someone say something?
- Hold.
- What is that stink?
It's vinegar. Vinegar, Excellence.
- Your Majesty.
- What's happened?
There has been an outbreak
of sweating sickness.
- Three hundred deaths this day alone.
- Fetch Dr. Linacre quickly.
What about my wife, the queen?
What about the queen?
Anne, don't be afraid.
I'll see you soon.
George, take your sister
to her chambers.
I find from experience, Your Majesty,
that in a great many cases...
...before any actual
physical symptoms appear...
...the sufferers undergo
a curious mental disorientation.
A quick sense
of fear and apprehension.
A foreboding of pain and death.
Every rumour sends them
into agitated alarm.
Indeed, one rumour can itself
cause a thousand cases of sweat.
So thousands catch the disease...
...from fear
who need not otherwise sweat.
Especially if they observe
a good, wholesome diet.
A good, wholesome diet?
That is your best remedy, Dr. Linacre?
Not infusions?
I hope Your Majesty will trust me
when I tell you...
...that there are countless remedies
for the sweat.
Nearly all of them, in my opinion,
medically useless.
Even to ward it off?
Well, I heard of an interesting theory.
A young gentleman
of my acquaintance swears...
...that he can combat
the disease directly...
...by working himself
into a natural sweat...
...by exercise each night.
Thank you, doctor.
Bring out your dead.
My dearest wife and family.
This plague that has come upon us...
...is a punishment from God.
We are all sinners,
and God is displeased with us.
Whether we live or die
is entirely in his hands.
All we can do is pray...
...and appeal to his great
and infinite mercy...
...and acknowledge
our sinful natures...
...and our need for his grace.
So, what do you think?
Isn't that the best way
of working up a sweat?
Yes, Your Grace.
Get your husband to lick it off.
Child, what is it?
Nothing, madam,
I just felt a little dizzy.
- Well, come here.
- No, I...
I still feel dizzy, I...
That's it. I've caught the sweat.
No, gentle child.
It's just a headache.
- No more than that.
- It's not.
I have pains in my stomach.
Yes. Isn't that a sign?
How can you deny it?
- I'm going to die.
- No, you're not going to die.
Listen to me.
You are not going to die.
Come here. There.
"My poor maid has this day
caught the sweat and died.
I beg Your Majesty, what shall I do?"
I want to see her.
I would counsel against any contact
with infected persons...
...or those who have had contact
with infected persons.
You are the king of England.
Yes, but what if she?
What if she dies?
All right.
Tell her she must quit the palace.
She must go with her father
back to Hever...
...and by all means,
shut herself up there.
I will send her infusions
to fortify herself...
...and I will write to her.
And what of Her Majesty?
The queen will join our daughter
at Ludlow.
I pray to God
they will be safe enough in Wales.
And you, Your Majesty?
I will shut myself up here...
...and keep the sweat at bay
with every means.
Then if I may advise Your Majesty.
Keep as few people around you
as possible.
In that way, you can reduce
the risk of contamination.
God bless us both.
Indeed.
I've come to say goodbye.
Are you pleased to send me away?
- You do not want to see our daughter?
- You send me away...
...so that you can be with her.
- No, she's not...
- Do you mean Lady Anne Boleyn?
- Yes, I mean Lady Anne Boleyn.
You make no secret of her.
No, she's going back to Hever.
One of her maids died of the sweat.
Your fear of the sweat is greater than
your infatuation with your mistress?
Catherine, she is not my mistress.
I do not sleep with her.
Not whilst you and I are still married.
But do you tell her
that you love her?
Do you make promises to her?
Does she make promises to you?
Will you not tell me since,
as you say, I am still your wife?
Catherine, I wish with all my heart...
...you could accept our marriage
was based upon a lie.
And in the meantime...
...I still love you enough
to want to save your life.
Now do as I command.
Go to Wales.
When you speak like that, my love...
You act as though I had the plague.
As though love itself were a plague.
I shall write to you.
Tell Mary, the king, her father,
sends his love and devotion.
How do you feel?
- I feel fine, Papa.
- You're sure?
What are you saying?
Because of my maid...
...l'm certain to be contaminated?
- No, of course not.
What is it?
I can't breathe.
What?
- What's wrong?
- I can't breathe. Stop the coach.
- I can't breathe. Stop the coach!
- Halt.
Stop the coach.
Anne.
Drive on.
Anne.
Joan, my dear sister.
Father, it is well said and known...
...that sickness is a visitation from
God and a punishment for sins.
But why, Father, why is my land
so marked out for disfavour?
What have we done that has
displeased Almighty God so much...
...that he brings
this pestilence upon us?
Is it my fault?
Father, I ask forgiveness
for sins unknown.
And I beg you for your blessing.
Not as a king...
...but as a man.
Please, Father.
Father?
Father?
Father?
Are you the English envoys?
Come.
My sons.
Holy Father.
You see how I am forced to live?
Can you imagine
Your Father's misery?
The Spaniards are practically
at my doorstep.
Your Holiness knows
why we are here.
We bring a letter from His Majesty,
King Henry...
...the most dutiful and Catholic king
of England, Ireland and France.
His Majesty thanks
Your Holiness in advance...
...for your support of his nullity suit.
He knows that you, Holy Father,
will not object to our supplications.
I wish with all my heart...
...to please and satisfy your master.
But I must say to you,
in all honesty...
...as God is my witness,
as I am an honest man...
...that I have been advised that
this suit is prompted solely...
...by the king's vain affection...
...and undue love for this woman,
Anne Boleyn.
It has been said to me...
...that the king of England desires
his divorce for private reasons only.
And that the woman he loves
is far below him.
Not only in rank, but also in virtue.
Holiness, who has told you
these things?
They say
that Anne is already pregnant...
...and that the king urgently wishes
to make her child...
...his heir to the throne.
Lady Anne is a model of chastity.
Though very apt to procreate
children when the time comes.
Holy Father, she impresses everyone
who sees her or knows her...
...with the purity of her life,
her constant virginity...
...her soberness, meekness.
Indeed, of all the women in England...
...she is, by far,
the fittest to become queen.
But what of Queen Catherine?
His Majesty hopes
that when Your Highness has taken...
...cognisance of the arguments
we have brought with us...
...you will write to the queen
to urge her compliance.
Of course.
But first, I must read
these arguments, must I not?
Before coming to judgement.
His Majesty also
made it plain to us...
...that if you could not
give him satisfaction...
...then he must look
for a judgement elsewhere.
He might be forced to live outside
the laws of the Holy Church...
...and beyond
Your Holiness's authority.
My sons.
Boy?
Keep a look out.
My sons.
- Holy Father.
- Holy Father.
I fear you will be disappointed
in my answer.
I am unable to make a judgement,
here and today...
...concerning the king's case.
Wait, I have not said
it is the end of the matter.
I am resolved it should be settled
as soon as may be, but not here.
For you see how I am here.
So I am appointing Cardinal Campeggio
as my official legate.
Once the sickness
in your country abates...
...he will travel to England,
and together with Cardinal Wolsey...
...constitute a court to hear and decide
upon the merits of the case.
If your king is as certain
of his rightness as you say he is...
...then no doubt he will welcome
the proceedings...
...which can only hasten
the fulfilment of his desires.
Come.
Put them there.
Your Majesty should know...
...that, His Grace, the Duk e of Norfolk,
having caught the sweat...
...ask ed to be allowed back to London,
ostensibly to see a doctor.
This permission I refused
on Your Majesty's behalf.
Three of Your Majesty's apothecaries
have also fallen sick...
...while three of your chamber
servants have died.
Your mason Redman is also dead.
The disease shows
no sign of abating.
There are now 40, 000 cases
in London alone.
Lady Anne Boleyn is also sick,
yet still survives.
- Dr. Linacre.
- Yes, Your Majesty.
Lady Anne is ill. Lady Anne Boleyn.
Go at once to Hever castle.
And for the love of God, save her life.
In my opinion, there is no hope.
The vital signs of life
are weak and worsening.
The priest should attend her now,
in extremis.
I'm very sorry.
- Are you not frightened, Papa?
- Of what? Of death?
No, no, no.
I have given myself entirely
into the hands of God...
...and I know with certainty
that when I die...
...I shall pass into
a far better place than this.
What you see around you
is not the fear of death...
...but the fear of what, for the
unrepentant, must surely follow it.
There is a spectre haunting Europe
which I fear far more than the sweat.
A sickness spreading everywhere.
Infecting thousands.
Of what do you speak, Papa?
The disease of Lutheranism.
It spreads among the poor.
Those who see the church
as rich and corrupt and decadent.
It has already ignited a peasants' war
in Germany and killed 100,000 people.
The contagion has spread...
...to Burgundy, Salzburg,
Montpellier and Nantes.
Every day brings more news
of the virulence of this heresy.
Surely it won't come here?
It is already here.
We know of secret meetings
here in the city of London...
...where the Church is attacked,
infamous books distributed.
Let me ask you, my child.
Let me ask you, what do you do...
...with a house which is plagued
with sickness?
You purge it with fire.
Exactly so.
In the same way, the sickness
which is in our house of faith...
...must be purged with fire.
Now, I am against violence,
as you know.
But I believe
that Luther and his followers...
...should be seized right now.
And burned.
Your Majesty, multitudes
are dying around us.
Almost everyone in Oxford, Cambridge,
and London has been ill recently.
Since the cardinal has also been ill,
and Your Majesty is gone from court...
...there is really no government
to the kingdom.
There have been
some riots in the city...
...but Your Majesty
should not be alarmed.
Sir.
- Come and see her.
- Get the master.
- My lord, my lord!
- Papa, come quickly.
George.
Praise be to God.
You know what you have done, child?
You have risen from the dead.
Now you can see the king again.
It can be just as before.
Thanks be to God,
my own darling, you are saved...
...and the plague is abated.
The legate which we most desire
arrived at Paris...
...on Sunday or Monday last.
I trust by next Monday
to hear of his arrival in Calais...
...and then I trust
within a while to enjoy...
...that which I have so longed for.
To God's pleasure and our own.
No more to you now, my darling,
for lack of time...
...but that I would you were
in my arms or I in yours...
...for I think it long
since I kissed you.
You have a letter
from Lady Anne Boleyn.
"My dear lord,
I am delighted to hear...
...that you have escaped the sweat.
All the days of my life,
I am most bound...
...of all creatures,
next to the king's grace...
...to love and serve Your Grace.
I beseech you never to doubt that
my opinion of you will ever change...
...as long as I have
any breath in my body.
Your humble servant, Anne Boleyn."
Well, at least she has
a sense of humour.
Joan.
Arrange for my pilgrimage
to Walsingham.
I must give thanks to our Lady.
Thank you. Thank you, God.
but you only know how it ends.
To get to the heart of the story,
you have to go back to the beginning.
Sir William.
- Sir William. What is it?
- Go and fetch the physician.
Go and get him now.
Sir.
Good God, man.
Why did no one wake him?
Sleep in these cases is fatal.
Keep away. Keep away, you fools.
Your master
has the sweating sickness.
You two. You, stay.
We must try and treat him.
Poor fellow.
Turn him over.
For the love of God, get on with it.
We may yet save him.
I'm going to cut into his back.
For I heard that it sometimes works.
It draws out some of the toxin.
Hold him now.
- What are you doing?
- May I not meet him?
God, woman, out. Out.
His Majesty the king
and Lady Anne Boleyn.
- Wolsey.
- Your Majesty.
Mistress Anne.
You are most welcome.
I must thank Your Eminence...
...for the magnificent brooch
you sent me.
I am so glad you liked it.
It is Italianate.
I thought the craftsmanship superb.
I'm sure Your Majesty
will be pleased...
...with the presents sent by the king
of France. A golden chalice...
...gold silk altar cloths...
...and tapestries worth,
I'm sure, at least 30,000 ducats.
So we are once more allies
with the French.
Indeed. And we are both officially
at war with the emperor.
Good. It pleases me.
As it pleased the emperor to announce
he has just had a son.
By the princess
he jilted my daughter for.
- How is the shrimp, Lady Anne?
- Perfect, Your Eminence.
Thank you. You are too generous,
in everything.
So, what of our personal matter?
Your Majesty, I have arranged
to send two of my colleagues...
...two young lawyers,
Stephen Gardiner, my secretary...
...and Edward Foxe, to meet the pope
at Orvieto, near Rome...
...where he still resides,
in wretched discomfort apparently.
What will you have these lawyers do?
They will press upon
His Holiness...
...the necessity for his cooperation.
He must recognise,
in both civil and canon law...
...the invalidity
of Your Majesty's marriage.
I have read countless texts
on the matter.
Sometimes reading well into the night
and giving myself terrible headaches.
But I am more assured now
than ever...
...of the spiritual and legal justice
of my case.
- My conscience is clear.
- As it should be.
And Your Majesty
must rest assured...
...that these two gentlemen,
these two restless lawyers...
...will not leave Orvieto
until they have attained satisfaction.
Good.
Very good.
Have you spoken recently
with the king?
No, Your Majesty.
Cardinal Wolsey refuses my requests,
and in a most high-handed manner.
It is something I have learned
about the English.
A small advantage makes them
overbearing...
...while the slightest adversity
makes them despondent.
I have received a coded letter from
your nephew, the emperor.
He declares his undying support
for you in this ugly matter.
You may wait for me here.
Yes, Your Majesty.
Pray continue.
He has already written a letter
to His Holiness Pope Clement...
...warning him of the king's
brutal intentions.
He has asked Clement to dismiss
Wolsey as official legate...
...and declare you and the king
legally married.
He tells you to be strong.
I try to be.
But so much now is hidden
from me.
Tell him that I trust in him more
than anyone else.
Except in God.
- Mistress Hastings.
- Dr. Linacre?
As soon as he heard the news,
the king sent me here.
Alas to no avail.
Mistress Hastings,
I know you were his common-law wife.
He was in every way
a most lovely and loving man.
His Majesty will miss
his companionship a great deal.
- Let me see him.
- There is a grave risk.
- About which we know so little.
- Please.
Oh, my poor, sweet darling.
Protect us from evil.
Forgive me.
You must burn all his bedding
and clothing.
He must be in the ground first thing.
Gentlemen, here is a personal letter
from the king to the pope...
...thanking him in advance
for attending to his suit...
...sympathetically.
How is His Holiness
likely to respond?
To be honest with you, Mr. Gardiner,
I am not absolutely sure.
The pope was an abused prisoner
of the emperor's mercenaries.
And even though the emperor reputedly
allowed him to escape to Orvieto...
...his condition continues to be
little better there.
He leads a most sad life,
locked up in a ruined castle.
In which case, why should the pope
favour the emperor...
...who has caused him nothing
but misery over the king of England...
...who has never caused him
any harm at all?
The trouble is, Your Eminence...
...the swords of the king of England
are much further away...
...than the swords of the emperor.
Diplomacy is nearly always settled
by such proximity.
Spoken like a true lawyer.
If all else fails, use threats.
Tell His Holiness...
...that if the king can't get satisfaction
from the papal court...
...he will find other means
to satisfy his conscience...
...and rid himself of his present wife.
Do I make myself clear?
Yes, Eminence. We understand.
Godspeed, gentlemen.
The evening after William died,
his servants began stealing his effects.
In his will, he bequeathed
this to the king.
I managed to save it.
William is buried in the churchyard.
So too are the servants...
...who also caught and died
of the sweat in the last 24 hours.
I don't know what to say to you.
- My lord Norfolk.
- Your Eminence.
- What do you want?
- A word with you if I might.
- In private.
- Very well.
You are commanded
to return at once...
...to your estates in East Anglia.
Commanded?
- By whom?
- By His Majesty.
In his own hand.
What for?
His Majesty would like you
to supervise...
...grain production
and North Sea trade.
Trade?
Trade?
What do you take me for?
A butcher's son?
As you see, my lord,
these are not my orders.
Poor William. Is this all
that remains of an entire life?
We must see that these jewels
get back to his unfortunate lady.
William died at Warwickshire
which is a long way from here...
...and God willing,
the disease won't spread.
But you should fortify yourselves
against it in any case.
Now, these are plasters
to heal ulcers.
An unguent which
cools inflammation and stops itching.
This helps digestion,
this soothes dry skin.
And this ointment will comfort
your cock if it's sore.
Thank you.
These are called pills of Rasis.
They're named after the Turk
who invented them.
They are said to be good
against the sweating sickness.
But this infusion is even better.
What is it?
It's a mixture of marigold...
...Manus christi,
a very efficacious herb...
...sorrel, meadow plant,
linseed vinegar...
...ivory scrapings,
all mixed with sugar.
- Take some.
- Are you sure?
Someone told me taking infusions
was the worst thing.
Trust me.
It'll make you feel sick.
But it's better
than the sickness it prevents.
Mistress Hastings.
Bury her beside Sir William.
That's so beautiful.
It's just something for a friend.
Forgive me, I can't work unless I'm...
Of course.
Good night, Thomas Tallis.
Wait.
What's your name?
- Joan.
- Stay a moment.
Why me?
Do you think the world judges you
both the same?
Yes. It seems to.
I don't.
I see the differences between you.
When I looked at you,
I saw a light around your head.
A light?
You mean like a halo?
Yes. Like a circle of light.
You're weird.
May I kiss you, Joan?
- Good morning, chamberlain.
- Your Majesty.
May I present
His Highness Jean de Bellay...
...bishop of Bayonne,
the new French ambassador.
Your Majesty, I am happy
to present my credentials.
And I am happy to be once more
friend and ally to your master.
Thank him for his precious gifts.
It is a pleasure, Your Highness.
So, Your Excellence, how is the war
against the emperor going?
Your Majesty has no cause
for anxiety.
A French army and
a fleet of our allies, the Genoese...
...have hopelessly besieged
the emperor's soldiers at Napoli.
Sooner or later,
Charles must surrender...
...and leave Italy altogether.
That is truly excellent news.
Your Excellence,
allow me to introduce...
Is this not Mademoiselle Anne?
His Eminence, Cardinal Wolsey,
has told me all about you.
He did not tell how beautiful you are.
For a Frenchman, that is a crime.
But Frenchmen tell every woman
she is beautiful.
Is that not a crime too?
- I have a gift for you.
- For me?
For you, sir.
This dog is very fast...
...really formidable.
- What's his name?
- Wolsey.
You ought to be glad, sweetheart.
His Excellence has informed me...
...that the emperor is soon
to be driven out of Italy.
He will no longer be able to stand
in the way of our happiness.
Go back to your wife.
Halt! In the name of the king!
Did someone say something?
- Hold.
- What is that stink?
It's vinegar. Vinegar, Excellence.
- Your Majesty.
- What's happened?
There has been an outbreak
of sweating sickness.
- Three hundred deaths this day alone.
- Fetch Dr. Linacre quickly.
What about my wife, the queen?
What about the queen?
Anne, don't be afraid.
I'll see you soon.
George, take your sister
to her chambers.
I find from experience, Your Majesty,
that in a great many cases...
...before any actual
physical symptoms appear...
...the sufferers undergo
a curious mental disorientation.
A quick sense
of fear and apprehension.
A foreboding of pain and death.
Every rumour sends them
into agitated alarm.
Indeed, one rumour can itself
cause a thousand cases of sweat.
So thousands catch the disease...
...from fear
who need not otherwise sweat.
Especially if they observe
a good, wholesome diet.
A good, wholesome diet?
That is your best remedy, Dr. Linacre?
Not infusions?
I hope Your Majesty will trust me
when I tell you...
...that there are countless remedies
for the sweat.
Nearly all of them, in my opinion,
medically useless.
Even to ward it off?
Well, I heard of an interesting theory.
A young gentleman
of my acquaintance swears...
...that he can combat
the disease directly...
...by working himself
into a natural sweat...
...by exercise each night.
Thank you, doctor.
Bring out your dead.
My dearest wife and family.
This plague that has come upon us...
...is a punishment from God.
We are all sinners,
and God is displeased with us.
Whether we live or die
is entirely in his hands.
All we can do is pray...
...and appeal to his great
and infinite mercy...
...and acknowledge
our sinful natures...
...and our need for his grace.
So, what do you think?
Isn't that the best way
of working up a sweat?
Yes, Your Grace.
Get your husband to lick it off.
Child, what is it?
Nothing, madam,
I just felt a little dizzy.
- Well, come here.
- No, I...
I still feel dizzy, I...
That's it. I've caught the sweat.
No, gentle child.
It's just a headache.
- No more than that.
- It's not.
I have pains in my stomach.
Yes. Isn't that a sign?
How can you deny it?
- I'm going to die.
- No, you're not going to die.
Listen to me.
You are not going to die.
Come here. There.
"My poor maid has this day
caught the sweat and died.
I beg Your Majesty, what shall I do?"
I want to see her.
I would counsel against any contact
with infected persons...
...or those who have had contact
with infected persons.
You are the king of England.
Yes, but what if she?
What if she dies?
All right.
Tell her she must quit the palace.
She must go with her father
back to Hever...
...and by all means,
shut herself up there.
I will send her infusions
to fortify herself...
...and I will write to her.
And what of Her Majesty?
The queen will join our daughter
at Ludlow.
I pray to God
they will be safe enough in Wales.
And you, Your Majesty?
I will shut myself up here...
...and keep the sweat at bay
with every means.
Then if I may advise Your Majesty.
Keep as few people around you
as possible.
In that way, you can reduce
the risk of contamination.
God bless us both.
Indeed.
I've come to say goodbye.
Are you pleased to send me away?
- You do not want to see our daughter?
- You send me away...
...so that you can be with her.
- No, she's not...
- Do you mean Lady Anne Boleyn?
- Yes, I mean Lady Anne Boleyn.
You make no secret of her.
No, she's going back to Hever.
One of her maids died of the sweat.
Your fear of the sweat is greater than
your infatuation with your mistress?
Catherine, she is not my mistress.
I do not sleep with her.
Not whilst you and I are still married.
But do you tell her
that you love her?
Do you make promises to her?
Does she make promises to you?
Will you not tell me since,
as you say, I am still your wife?
Catherine, I wish with all my heart...
...you could accept our marriage
was based upon a lie.
And in the meantime...
...I still love you enough
to want to save your life.
Now do as I command.
Go to Wales.
When you speak like that, my love...
You act as though I had the plague.
As though love itself were a plague.
I shall write to you.
Tell Mary, the king, her father,
sends his love and devotion.
How do you feel?
- I feel fine, Papa.
- You're sure?
What are you saying?
Because of my maid...
...l'm certain to be contaminated?
- No, of course not.
What is it?
I can't breathe.
What?
- What's wrong?
- I can't breathe. Stop the coach.
- I can't breathe. Stop the coach!
- Halt.
Stop the coach.
Anne.
Drive on.
Anne.
Joan, my dear sister.
Father, it is well said and known...
...that sickness is a visitation from
God and a punishment for sins.
But why, Father, why is my land
so marked out for disfavour?
What have we done that has
displeased Almighty God so much...
...that he brings
this pestilence upon us?
Is it my fault?
Father, I ask forgiveness
for sins unknown.
And I beg you for your blessing.
Not as a king...
...but as a man.
Please, Father.
Father?
Father?
Father?
Are you the English envoys?
Come.
My sons.
Holy Father.
You see how I am forced to live?
Can you imagine
Your Father's misery?
The Spaniards are practically
at my doorstep.
Your Holiness knows
why we are here.
We bring a letter from His Majesty,
King Henry...
...the most dutiful and Catholic king
of England, Ireland and France.
His Majesty thanks
Your Holiness in advance...
...for your support of his nullity suit.
He knows that you, Holy Father,
will not object to our supplications.
I wish with all my heart...
...to please and satisfy your master.
But I must say to you,
in all honesty...
...as God is my witness,
as I am an honest man...
...that I have been advised that
this suit is prompted solely...
...by the king's vain affection...
...and undue love for this woman,
Anne Boleyn.
It has been said to me...
...that the king of England desires
his divorce for private reasons only.
And that the woman he loves
is far below him.
Not only in rank, but also in virtue.
Holiness, who has told you
these things?
They say
that Anne is already pregnant...
...and that the king urgently wishes
to make her child...
...his heir to the throne.
Lady Anne is a model of chastity.
Though very apt to procreate
children when the time comes.
Holy Father, she impresses everyone
who sees her or knows her...
...with the purity of her life,
her constant virginity...
...her soberness, meekness.
Indeed, of all the women in England...
...she is, by far,
the fittest to become queen.
But what of Queen Catherine?
His Majesty hopes
that when Your Highness has taken...
...cognisance of the arguments
we have brought with us...
...you will write to the queen
to urge her compliance.
Of course.
But first, I must read
these arguments, must I not?
Before coming to judgement.
His Majesty also
made it plain to us...
...that if you could not
give him satisfaction...
...then he must look
for a judgement elsewhere.
He might be forced to live outside
the laws of the Holy Church...
...and beyond
Your Holiness's authority.
My sons.
Boy?
Keep a look out.
My sons.
- Holy Father.
- Holy Father.
I fear you will be disappointed
in my answer.
I am unable to make a judgement,
here and today...
...concerning the king's case.
Wait, I have not said
it is the end of the matter.
I am resolved it should be settled
as soon as may be, but not here.
For you see how I am here.
So I am appointing Cardinal Campeggio
as my official legate.
Once the sickness
in your country abates...
...he will travel to England,
and together with Cardinal Wolsey...
...constitute a court to hear and decide
upon the merits of the case.
If your king is as certain
of his rightness as you say he is...
...then no doubt he will welcome
the proceedings...
...which can only hasten
the fulfilment of his desires.
Come.
Put them there.
Your Majesty should know...
...that, His Grace, the Duk e of Norfolk,
having caught the sweat...
...ask ed to be allowed back to London,
ostensibly to see a doctor.
This permission I refused
on Your Majesty's behalf.
Three of Your Majesty's apothecaries
have also fallen sick...
...while three of your chamber
servants have died.
Your mason Redman is also dead.
The disease shows
no sign of abating.
There are now 40, 000 cases
in London alone.
Lady Anne Boleyn is also sick,
yet still survives.
- Dr. Linacre.
- Yes, Your Majesty.
Lady Anne is ill. Lady Anne Boleyn.
Go at once to Hever castle.
And for the love of God, save her life.
In my opinion, there is no hope.
The vital signs of life
are weak and worsening.
The priest should attend her now,
in extremis.
I'm very sorry.
- Are you not frightened, Papa?
- Of what? Of death?
No, no, no.
I have given myself entirely
into the hands of God...
...and I know with certainty
that when I die...
...I shall pass into
a far better place than this.
What you see around you
is not the fear of death...
...but the fear of what, for the
unrepentant, must surely follow it.
There is a spectre haunting Europe
which I fear far more than the sweat.
A sickness spreading everywhere.
Infecting thousands.
Of what do you speak, Papa?
The disease of Lutheranism.
It spreads among the poor.
Those who see the church
as rich and corrupt and decadent.
It has already ignited a peasants' war
in Germany and killed 100,000 people.
The contagion has spread...
...to Burgundy, Salzburg,
Montpellier and Nantes.
Every day brings more news
of the virulence of this heresy.
Surely it won't come here?
It is already here.
We know of secret meetings
here in the city of London...
...where the Church is attacked,
infamous books distributed.
Let me ask you, my child.
Let me ask you, what do you do...
...with a house which is plagued
with sickness?
You purge it with fire.
Exactly so.
In the same way, the sickness
which is in our house of faith...
...must be purged with fire.
Now, I am against violence,
as you know.
But I believe
that Luther and his followers...
...should be seized right now.
And burned.
Your Majesty, multitudes
are dying around us.
Almost everyone in Oxford, Cambridge,
and London has been ill recently.
Since the cardinal has also been ill,
and Your Majesty is gone from court...
...there is really no government
to the kingdom.
There have been
some riots in the city...
...but Your Majesty
should not be alarmed.
Sir.
- Come and see her.
- Get the master.
- My lord, my lord!
- Papa, come quickly.
George.
Praise be to God.
You know what you have done, child?
You have risen from the dead.
Now you can see the king again.
It can be just as before.
Thanks be to God,
my own darling, you are saved...
...and the plague is abated.
The legate which we most desire
arrived at Paris...
...on Sunday or Monday last.
I trust by next Monday
to hear of his arrival in Calais...
...and then I trust
within a while to enjoy...
...that which I have so longed for.
To God's pleasure and our own.
No more to you now, my darling,
for lack of time...
...but that I would you were
in my arms or I in yours...
...for I think it long
since I kissed you.
You have a letter
from Lady Anne Boleyn.
"My dear lord,
I am delighted to hear...
...that you have escaped the sweat.
All the days of my life,
I am most bound...
...of all creatures,
next to the king's grace...
...to love and serve Your Grace.
I beseech you never to doubt that
my opinion of you will ever change...
...as long as I have
any breath in my body.
Your humble servant, Anne Boleyn."
Well, at least she has
a sense of humour.
Joan.
Arrange for my pilgrimage
to Walsingham.
I must give thanks to our Lady.
Thank you. Thank you, God.