Bill Page #2

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From England.

"To His Majesty King Philip ll of Spain."

That's me.

"Queen Elizabeth cordially invites you

to diplomatic talks in London

to discuss the capture of her most

loyal subject, Sir Richard Hawkins."

Actually, I just need to...

I told you she would take the bait.

The rabbit is in the snare.

Your Majesty...

the specialists you requested.

Oh, yes. Talk to me.

Lope Lopez, Your Majesty.

Master of inquisition.

It's for making people talk.

Juan Domingo, Your Majesty.

Espionage. . and weapon-ry.

- Nice.

- Actually, I was aiming for the pillar.

Sweaty hands.

And... where's the other one?

Gabriel Montoya, Your Majesty.

Master of disguise.

If you need a milkmaid, Washerwomen

or female fisherman,

I am your woman - man.

Man.

OK.

We have been presented with a...

- Why are you here again?

- Sorry. Um...

I just need to take food orders

for the banquet.

Just so we've got some rough numbers

on the mains.

Whatever is fine. I don't care.

Er... l can't eat shellfish.

- What?

- Well, prawns are fine.

But... l have to avoid the bivalves.

What... What, what?

Bivalves. You know, er... mussels,

scallops, oysters and...

Oh, what is the one

which er... stick out of the sand?

- Razor clams.

- Razor clam!

Ai, ai, ai.

And I can't do nuts.

If I even eat a small, itty-bitty nut,

my throat, it expands,

it swells like a man's thing.

- And langoustine.

- You had that thing with...

- No one's gonna force you to eat nuts.

- OK, you know what? Whatever.

- Oh...

- Just go now.

Seriously?

We have been presented

with a unique opportunity

to rid the world of this Protestant cow,

to strike from within her royal court

This is our Trojan horse.

It doesn't look like a horse.

Well, it's not an actual horse.

You know, it's a... a metaphor.

Read a book.

It's a hiding place from which

a secret attack can be sprung.

Gentlemen,

who would like to kill a queen?

- Yes!

- Yes, please!

Yes!

Yes!

OK, what is this? Some kind of veneer?

You need a softer wood,

like a balsa, something like that.

- Or do the chair.

- Stick it in the chair maybe.

- Try the chair.

- You'll ruin the chair.

You been before?

- No, first time.

- Oooh.

It's nice. You'll like it.

- Don't steal anything.

- Yeah.

- Wait for me.

- This way.

- Here!

- Tom!

London.

- Yeah, well, it's mostly pork.

- Right.

- When you say mostly pork, what"?

- Well, mostly pork and other stuff.

- It doesn't matter. It's only for him.

- Yeah.

Right.

Ian!

Ian!

MY Lord.

Why did you let me get drunk?

- I wasn't there.

- Exactly.

Look what happened.

Now I have to write this incredible play

or some power-crazed lunatic's

going to chop my head off.

- Well, report him to the Queen.

- I'm talking about the Queen.

And stop leaving me

multiple chamber pots.

It's very confusing.

Sun...

I suppose writing a play

can't be that hard, can it?

I mean, it's just...

talking, isn't it, but... written down.

"Hello. I'm a man in a play."

"Hello. I'm a woman in a play."

Oh, this is easy.

- Ian?

- Hm?

Go out and fetch me paper and quills.

I'm going to put Croydon on the map.

Good day to you, sir.

I am a dramatist from a distant vale

who comes to London

seeking fame and fortune.

Would you be so kind

as to point me in the direction

of the city's most reputable theatre?

Ha.

The theatres are closed, my friend.

Plague. It's killing the ads.

And people. I heard.

It's taken my play.

It might as well have its audience.

You're a writer?

I'm a writer too.

Shakespeare. Bill Shakespeare.

Christopher Marlowe.

So, what son of stuff

do you write, Chris?

Drama, tragedies,

tales of betrayal and revenge.

Frailties of the human condition.

- You?

- Bum jokes.

People hit by sticks. Comedy.

- Comedy?

- You know, like erm...

I see your mum's in.

That's not my mother.

That's not what your sister told me.

- That's a man.

- That's what makes it funny.

- You're not from London, are you, Bill?

- No, Stratford.

Just came down here to try

and get this baby into a theatre or...

Look, I'm the most

successful playwright in London

and I can't even buy a house

without borrowing money.

I mean, imagine that.

If I can't make a living from the theatre,

I hardly see the works of Shakespeare

taking the world by storm.

I see.

- Do you act?

- Well, I've... trodded the boards.

I'm thinking about going for this thing.

It's not much, but it's money.

It's a two-hander, so...

if you wanna come along...

Thank you.

Don't thank me.

Thank your mother who is dead.

- What?

- Not like that, then?

Oh, no. No, never like that.

Right. Interesting.

So, this thing, is it a meaty role?

Not exactly.

- Vegetables!

- Vegetables.

Madam, why not try some vegetables

with your meat?

Try some vegetables? They're really

good for you. And they help you poo.

Get 'em right down.

Are you cold?

I'm cold.

Sssh.

- Walsingham. I thought you were dead.

- No, just in deep cover.

- But it was an open casket.

- Yeah, it was very deep.

Listen, Molly...

I need some information.

Is it true, about this summit?

Oh, yes, here at the palace on the 7th.

- I hear the Spanish are hunky.

- Well, you hear wrong!

Catholics can't put on muscle mass

because God hates them.

They've no muscle and no backbone,

like snakes.

Surely snakes are all backbone. No?

- Well, like worms, then.

- Oh, no, worms are all muscle.

- Someone knows a lot about Catholics.

- No, no, just... garden creatures.

Hm... One can't be too careful, Molly.

They're everywhere, you know.

The Catholic threat may be sleeping now,

but it will soon awaken like a...

- Bear?

- Yes.

Good.

Like a non-muscular, spineless bear!

- Uh... False alarm.

- So we're safe, then?

Safe? Ha!

If the Catholics

are so weak and spineless...

What they lack in muscular,

skeletal integrity,

they more than make up for in cunning.

They'll be hatching plots as we speak.

Well, should I tell the old...

- Majesty?

- No.

I will be her eyes and ears and mouth.

No, not mouth.

Just tell her Sir Francis Walsingham

is back and I remain, as always,

her most faithful servant.

We are close. Disguises on.

- Boss.

- What is it?

I don't understand.

If you have been invited to England, why

do we have to sneak ashore like this?

Because, Juan, one:

the invitation was for me

and my closest advisors,

not a group of trained assassins.

They were very clear about that.

And two, Juan:

an assassination like this,

it takes time and planning.

People don't just kill themselves.

My cousin did.

Sleep well this night, dear Queen.

Soon this land shall be mine.

Boss, I have some bad news.

We forgot the horse.

Gentlemen, good evening.

And welcome... to England.

If you'd just like to follow me up to

Customs, we'll get you checked in, OK?

You land us here? I said clandestine.

I don't know what that means.

One donkey, straw, made thereof.

All... righty, Richard.

If you'd like to shimmy that one along

and pop the next one sur la table.

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