Anonymous Page #3

To be the conscience of our times.

The soul of the age.

To ch-change the world, not...

Ch-change the world?

What, with rhyme?

Yes. Why not? Why can't a man

change the world with words?

"I'll make you the richest and most

popular playwright in London."

Bollocks. I can do that myself,

thank you very much.

He's an amateur.

A complete and utter amateur.

Last week, gardening.

This week, writing. Next, hawking.

No. No, I won't do it. It would be

an affront against the Muses.

How much money

did you say he gave you?

You think my name can be bought?

No, no, no, not at all. No.

I think we should keep

your good name quite intact.

King Philip of Spain sees the

current Catholic revolt in Ireland

GS 8 weakness Of OUTS.

A weakness to be exploited.

Ireland?

There are reports of his sending

financial aid, even troops.

We must act quickly. We must replace

the Lord Lieutenant of Ireland,

and send additional troops...

Replace?

With whom?

I would recommend

his lordship,

the Earl of Essex.

No, that's impossible.

He cannot be spared.

We value his counsel greatly.

Essex's martial abilities are,

in my opinion, the only antidote

to the plague of Spain.

Essex could not, unfortunately,

remain in the Privy Council

while he is in Ireland.

And who would you advise

to replace him?

Sir Robert Cecil.

Your son?

Yes.

Though he is my own advisor first,

Your Majesty, my son second.

Yes. Yes, yes.

Ah. Very well. Send Essex

to Ireland.

And we will place Robert

on our Privy Council.

I saw a play this last weekend,

William.

It made me think of...

many things long past.

I'd like to see more of them.

Has Edward been happy,

William...

with your daughter?

Murdered?!

By your own hand.

He was stealing my poems.

He was doing my bidding!

Yours?

Of course! As soon as Robert told me

you were ignoring my express orders...

Robert? Robert told?

Enough!

Thou shalt not worship false idols

in my household.

Your everlasting soul

hangs in the balance, not poems.

My poems are my soul.

You have placed me

in a grave position, Edward.

I cannot have

my reputation soiled

by this regrettable lack

of control on your part.

We can claim self-defense.

He drew sword first.

But there is something

I wish in return.

My daughter is young

and impressionable.

She has feelings

for you, Edward.

It is to be expected,

living in such close quarters.

Sir, for the last three years, you

have seized much of my inheritance.

Hold your tongue, lest you make

a claim you cannot retract.

I was legally reimbursed for your

education and living expenses.

You suggest you be reimbursed the rest of

my estate through your daughter's bed.

No.

This is how I suggest

we keep your noble head

from the executioner's block.

... duly considering the causes

for which matrimony was ordained.

One was the procreation

of children,

to be brought up in the fear and

nurture of the Lord and faith of God.

Secondly, for the mutual society,

health and comfort

that the one ought to have

of the other in prosperity,

into the which holiest state

these two persons

here present

come now to be joined.

Henry the Fifth, by...

no one?

Why would any of you

admit to trying to better me

in historical drama?

Comedy, yes. Tragedy, perhaps.

Ben, waiting to see how it's received

before you lay claim?

O for a Muse of fire,

that would ascend

the brightest heaven of invention,

a kingdom for a stage,

princes to act,

and monarchs to behold

the swelling scene!

Then should the warlike Harry,

like himself,

assume the port of Mars,

and at his heels

should famine, sword,

and fire crouch for employment.

The flat unraised spirits

that have dared

on this unworthy scaffold

to bring forth

so great an object:

Can this cockpit hold

the vasty fields of France?

Or may we cram

within this wooden O,

the very casques that:

Suppose

within the girdle of these walls

are now confined

two mighty monarchies

whose high, upreared

and abutting fronts,

the perilous narrow ocean

parts asunder.

Hyah! Make way!

Piece out our

imperfections with your thoughts.

Into a thousand parts

divide one man

and make imaginary puissance.

Think when we talk of horses...

that you see them,

printing their proud hoofs

in the receiving earth.

For 'tis

your thoughts,

your thoughts that now

must deck our kings.

Make way!

This story

shall the good man teach his son.

And Crispin Crispian

shall ne'er go by,

from this day

to the ending of the world,

but we in it shall be remembered.

We few, we happy few,

we band of brothers.

For he today that sheds

his blood with me,

shall be my brother,

be he ne'er so vile,

this day shall gentle his condition.

And gentlemen in England

now a-bed,

shall think themselves accursed

they were not here!

And hold their manhoods cheap

whiles any speaks,

that fought with us upon

Saint Crispin's Day!

My sovereign lord,

bestow yourself with speed.

The French are bravely

in their battles set

and will with all expedience

charge on us!

All things are ready,

if our minds be so!

Perish the man whose mind

is backward now!

You know your places.

God be with you all!

Francesco, do you see?!

Do you see?!

Si, signor.

Kill the Frenchmen!

Death to the French!

Down with the French!

Down with the French!

Your sword!

We'll follow you!

Edward!

William Cecil convinced

the queen

that only Essex

can save Ireland from revolt.

I've pledged to go with him.

I, for one, wish to see this

anonymous colleague of ours.

Playwright!

Playwright! Playwright!

Playwright! Playwright! Playwright!

I ask for your blessing, Edward.

I cannot give it.

If he is to be my king, it is

my duty to be with him in battle.

Will?

Sorry to disturb

your entertainment.

Henry!

Thank you. And it's all written

in verse. Thank you.

Got it, got it, got it.

It's just... It's just been...

Phew. Only... I...

I want to thank my actors,

whose great, great acting

has brought my words to life

due to their

most wonderful acting.

Um... And, uh, thank you!

An actor!

An actor, for God's sake!

My lord, I thought that...

You presume to think on my behalf?

My lord, your voice is

completely different from mine.

Voice? You have no voice!

That's why I chose you!

You, um...

You at least kept my name

from him?

And will continue to do so?

A romantic tragedy.

In iambic pentameter.

All of it? Is that possible?

Of course it is.

My lord.

Will Shakespeare.

William...

Shake.

Speare.

My lady.

Who was that man?

I've seen him here before.

Edward.

We must discuss

our daughter's dowry.

Dowry?

She cannot marry

without a dowry becoming to

the daughter of the Earl of Oxford.

I can give her Brooke House

and 100 pounds.

A hundred pounds, Father?

Mother?

That is all we have to give

at the moment.

Leave us, Bridget.

Edward, our family

is in financial ruins,

and you...

You...

play the flute while Rome burns.

Nero fiddled whilst Rome burned.

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