Anne of the Indies

Royal Charles, three hundred tons.

John Haislip, Master.

Taken and burned off Barbados

by Captain Providence.

All hands believed lost.

Sea Lady, two hundred and fifty tons.

Edward Parrott, Master.

Taken of the Carolinas

by Captain Providence.

Man the guns!

Man the guns! Get them ready!

It's the 'Sheba Queen'.

Prepare to repel an attack.

Load the guns! Fire!

Quarter! Quarter!

I've struck my flag!

Did you care for all

the wounded, Doctor?

All but you, Captain.

Take off your coat.

A good purchase.

It'll keep these swine in rum

and wenches for a year.

And for some sleeping

room with the sharks.

We have twelve dead.

The greater the shares for the living.

We shall miss our sailing master.

Lucky the blood vessels are not touched.

It's a scratch, no more.

You will bear a scar.

I bear many scars from the English.

This one will mar your beauty.

Save that for the wenches.

Does it hurt?

No.

To show pain is natural.

We're all born with a capacity for it.

I choose not to show it.

Nor pity.

You quite finished?

-Yes.

Come on deck.

Perhaps the sight will

put some iron in your soul.

Only rum will do that now, my dear.

Is this the mercy of buccaneers?

I learned my mercy

from the English, Captain.

I struck my flag thinking

to receive quarter.

So did my brother when

he was overwhelmed.

And did you English show him quarter?

No, you hanged him in chains

on the wharf at Port Royal...

...and spit in his face.

I know nothing about your brother.

You're not the first Englishmen

who has learned of him.

If you have any last words,

Captain, say them now.

If he was a pirate, he

deserved the end he got...

...as you will deserve yours.

God save the King.

By the veins of your nose, you

have drunk your king often in wine.

Now drink him in salt water.

Come on, get him over!

Why is this one in irons?

We found him so in the fore

peak of the merchantman.

A prisoner of the English?

Then he's no friend of

theirs. Bring him here.

Your name?

-Pierre Franois.

You have the advantage of me.

I am Captain Providence.

You are?

Charmed, Miss.

My title is Captain.

Charmed, Captain.

Why were you aboard the English ship?

I was their guest, Captain.

I was being sent to England for trial.

What was your offence?

I captured too many of their ships.

You dare to call yourself a buccaneer?

Nothing so exalted, Captain.

Merely a privateers man.

Privateers man?

A buccaneer who lacks the tripes

to call himself by this true name.

What was your ship?

The 'Molly O'Brien'.

That's an Irish name.

The Irish, like we French...

...have little reasons

to love the English.

Do you know of such a ship?

Yes, Captain. I know of one such, she's

a privateer, Bordeaux registry...

...with letter's of marque to

prey upon English shipping.

Who named her that?

-I did.

Among the French, is it the cabin

boys who name their ships?

I was owner and master.

Big Belly.

Wait! I'm questioning him.

And he's right, you stuff

yourself like a pig.

You say you were master.

Are you a sea artist?

I can navigate.

I need a sailing master.

But, Captain...

Have you the stomach to join us?

It's not too great a step from

privateers man to honest buccaneer.

We know nothing of this swab.

Stow your breeze, Big Belly.

Well, Mister?

My choice is between

joining your company...

...and walking your plank.

It is.

Then it isn't too hard a choice to make.

I'm fond of life.

Have him sing the articles.

A mate's share for all future purchases.

Aye, Captain.

All hands stand to!

I mind well the 'Molly O'Brien'.

The English took her

more than a year since.

What for would they wait so long

to send their captain back for trial?

Let him go! Let him go!

Mine! That's mine!

Mine! Here, let me have it.

Two English dogs that'll bark

at your command, Captain.

You, Doctor.

I doubt if there's anything

here that will please me.

Yes.

A book.

Is that all?

There's a magic in books.

There's more magic in

a broadside of cannon.

Can a book sink a ship?

Books have sunk

the mightiest of ships...

...destroyed armies, even

brought down empires.

You, Frenchie. What do you choose?

I had no hand in taking the prize.

You're one of us now. Come.

Listen to this.

'For what shall it profit a man...

...if he shall gain the whole word...

...and lose his own soul?'

Frenchie, choose from these gewgaws.

I choose this.

The dress? Are you going to wear it?

Hardly, Mademoiselle. Captain.

You have a wench somewhere?

I'm a Frenchman.

Well, I'll take the sword.

Not for myself, but for Captain Teach.

Blackbeard.

You know him, Frenchie?

Everyone has heard of Blackbeard.

No, I've never met him.

The greatest sea rover of us all.

Set a course for Nassau.

We need supplies...

...and we'll find him there.

Aye, Captain.

I didn't take it!

I didn't take it!

Noble ladies and captains

of the sea, the wrestlers.

There, you scurvy swabs!

Thousand pieces of silver of the bear.

Who'll cover it?

Here's a hundred.

I'll cover.

Bring on the wrestlers!

Now clear the decks.

Come on, come on.

Come, he's here.

Are you not coming, Frenchie?

If you'll forgive me, I have some

business here in Nassau.

No business can be more important

than meeting Blackbeard.

Are you afraid?

-No.

Well, then, have no fear.

You're under my protection.

Belay there, you scum!

The man would have won!

Annie! Annie, lass!

Annie, lass. What fair

wind blows you here?

The hope of a sight of you,

you old sea-eagle.

You find me among gulls and sparrows...

...these lubbers who think

themselves sea rovers.

You're like a northeaster after a calm.

Dougal, you Scottish swill bucket!

Snug down an anchor.

Snug down an anchor yourself.

But you're the right kind

of a girl for a Scotsman.

Who's that?

My new sea artist, Pierre Franois.

A privateers man turned honest.

Welcome to our honourable company.

Franois? Haven't we met before?

I've touched at many ports, sir, but...

...it's unlikely that I would forget

the great Captain Teach.

A chance resemblance, perhaps.

And I don't like flattery.

Well, Doctor, still drinking

the ship's varnish?

Way there, you bilge swine.

Way for a real hawk of the sea.

Well, lass, what have

been your fortunes?

Six English merchantmen

in the past month.

Six more hostages in hell

for my brother's soul.

You've scoured the sea like

a broom. I'm proud of you.

It was you who taught me my trade.

And in gratitude, I've brought you

a souvenir of my last purchase.

There was no need, lass.

A sight of you is enough.

It's a fine blade. Try it.

Balances well. Who'll try it with me?

Well, you swill tubs.

You see? Sparrows, all of them.

I'm here.

-You, lass?

Why should I carve you?

Who says you can?

Try and see.

Done, Captain. Captain Rackham,

give me your sword.

Captain, you put me aboard

the 'Sheba Queen'...

...to look after the girl. Yes.

I do not trust the Frenchman.

Well, cut out his gizzard

throw him overboard.

She has taken him under her protection.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes