Anne of the Thousand Days Page #8

Is he well? Is he strong?

My Lord...

[laughs]

Those are lungs that will out-bellow

the Spanish Ambassador. Ey, Nan?

And the eyes. The eyes are clever.

We'll call him Edward.

It's a lucky name for English Kings.

I have borne you a daughter,

Your Majesty.

- A daughter?

- Yes.

Why did no one tell me

before I entered?

I wanted to tell you myself, Hal.

We have a beautiful daughter.

Next time, a son.

Elizabeth.

We shall call her Elizabeth.

- Is the child in good health?

- Perfect, Your Majesty.

Good.

Well, if we can have a healthy daughter,

we can have a healthy son,

as you say, as you... say.

I'll kiss you and leave you, Anne.

God bless all here.

Will you not kiss your daughter?

My daughter?

No. When she's older.

When she has a brother.

- Still no word from the King?

- No, Your Majesty.

- No answer even to my letter?

- Nothing, Your Majesty.

How can he so utterly forget so much?

He does not forget, Mother.

He just has no wish to remember.

But rumours say that

all is not well with them.

Still no sign of a son.

That woman is in despair, they say.

For already my beloved father's eye

has started to wander again.

Poor Hal.

Poor Hal.

- You pity him?

- Was I not his much-loved wife?

And you are his daughter.

Unless he has a son of a true marriage,

you are his heir.

You must be Queen.

And remember,

when I'm gone,

you're first.

[groans]

Doctor! Quickly!

[formal music]

Touch her and I'll have her

sent from court.

Who?

That half-witted Seymour who is always

so tongue-tied and blushing and adoring

- when you enter my chamber.

- She's a child.

- But you would get a child by her.

- But not by you, except a useless girl.

Mind your tongue or I'll have you sent

from court to cool your temper, madam.

[music stops]

Play on! Play!

The Queen is tired, but does not wish

to spoil your pleasure.

Play!

Jane.

I...

I think we shall dance well together.

If I lead strongly,

will you softly follow?

I hope so, Your Grace.

That little sheep won't hold the

royal bull beyond the first encounter.

I order you!

Leave us.

Where is Jane Seymour?

Oromwell tells me when the dance was

ended, she was sent away under guard.

She's on her way to Northumberland.

As far away as I could send her,

since we don't own Scotland.

She has the face of a simpering sheep,

and the manners. But not the morals.

I don't want her near me.

- You will bring her back!

- I think not!

If you want her near you, find a place

for her in your palace at Whitehall.

Whilst I am here,

Jane Seymour must lie elsewhere.

Tell her.

Your Majesty, the people say

that you are the witch Queen.

Are we ruled by superstition?

Oatherine still lives

in the heart of the people.

The people say that her daughter

is the heir and yours the bastard.

I do not fear the people.

The people hate you, madam,

for displacing Queen Oatherine

and tearing the King

away from the true Ohurch.

As they hate me

for despoiling the monasteries.

But the King, they truly love.

You and I, madam,

live in the protection of the King.

So?

So in Parliament,

which speaks for the people,

there is a bill.

It is called the Act of Succession.

It makes your daughter the heir

and Oatherine's daughter, Mary,

illegitimate.

If the King does not wish it, the

Act of Succession will not be passed.

Would you sacrifice

the child of our love

to get a silly little harlot

brought back to court?

One daughter is much like another.

I care not who's named bastard

when I'm dead.

If I bring Jane Seymour back

you will have Parliament

pass the Act of Succession?

Yes.

What a liar you are.

What good is that Act

unless every man in the kingdom

who has power to accept my child

as legitimate heir

first swears an oath of fealty

to you as Head of the Ohurch?

And if they do not, Act of Succession

or no Act of Succession,

they will say my child is the bastard

and there's an end!

Go.

Nan, if you love me, don't defy me.

Bring her back.

I love you.

I shall go to my grave loving you,

no doubt, and hating you.

I will bring her back to my court

if the oath is sworn

by all men of power, high and low.

But those who refuse must die.

- You once said they must not die.

- You once said they must.

And now so say I.

Anne.

Anne.

If you love me, forget the succession.

If you remember how it all came about,

how can you look me in my eyes

and say our daughter will not succeed?

Because it would need unlimited murder.

Nan, look at me.

Is it fitting I should be Head

of the Ohurch, Pope and King at once,

a farce so that so many men must die?

Oould you sign the death warrants?

I'd sign 10,000

rather than disinherit my blood!

It's that, or else it's my blood

and Elizabeth's.

Oromwell knows that.

Your butcher cleaver man knows that.

Send him to implement these details,

and let it be done quickly.

High or low, they will sign.

I wish I were loved, but I'm not.

And yet I am Queen of this island

and Elizabeth also shall be Queen.

For Elizabeth, no.

For her I will not commit murder.

Anne, if we had a male heir,

your son and mine...

I can be angrier than you've seen me.

I know where your heart is, not with me.

What has love got to do

with begetting of a king?

I'm not young. I'm not true.

I'm bitter. I'm envious.

I'm dangerous. I'm malicious!

It's your misfortune that you love me

now that I no longer love you.

And yet, at this moment I want you

because of the anger in your face

- and the spark of blood in your cheek.

- No.

Anne, give me a prince

and everything would be forgotten.

No! Not unless you kill them,

More and Houghton and Fisher

and all who will not sign,

not unless Elizabeth is your heir!

I'll kill them, then.

I rob, murder and commit sacrilege...

at your command.

You do what you wish

and call the deed mine.

I hate you.

I hate your desire and mine!

[drumming]

[drumming stops]

I pray you, Master Kingston,

see me safe up.

As for my coming down,

let me shift for myself.

[quiet chattering]

Good people, it has...

The King's orders.

You must not be heard.

Well, then I will not speak.

[drumming stops]

I die the King's good servant,

but God's first.

[drumming]

No!

[Anne sobs] No! No!

[Anne continues to sob]

- Well?

- A boy born dead.

She has miscarried of her saviour.

[sobbing]

I am accursed!

A live daughter and a dead son!

Did I accept excommunication for this?

Did I send More, Houghton and Fisher

to their death for this?

She cannot give me a living son!

Very well, then.

If she cannot give me a male heir,

I shall rid myself of her.

Sir, with Oatherine's death,

Anne is too firmly the Queen.

Find a way. Find a legal way.

I will divorce Anne.

Divorce is like killing. After the

first time, it doesn't seem difficult.

Your Grace, we asserted English law.

Anne is now Queen by English law.

Indeed. Indeed.

I divorced Oatherine in good faith.

But since that time, I have discovered

an impediment to my marriage to Anne.

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