Hornblower: The Duchess and the Devil Page #5

The Rivals, madam.

That was one of the plays I saw.

I hear it is a sad piece.

Oh, no, madam.

Most comical.

Oh. I prefer tragedy.

But it is more

than a comedy.

It is a play about deceit.

You know better than me.

I'm not often in London.

I didn't like

that froggie gent, Mr. H.

Not at all.

He seemed to like you.

I've no idea why.

Perhaps because you were

in the play he saw.

The Rivals, was it?

Or perhaps

it was Macbeth.

Though I do believe

you would have made a fine

Lady Languish, Miss Cobham.

Do you deny it?

Why should I?

But I don't understand.

Why?

Because I want

to go home.

But this whole... this charade, the

Duchess of Wharfedale.

She exists,

exactly as I played her.

Where are my dispatches?

Hidden.

Give them to me.

Am I untrustworthy

without a title?

You are untrustworthy

because you lied.

The dispatches.

(knocking)

Who is it?

De Vergesse.

May I come in?

Follow my lead.

I didn't know

you were already

entertaining, madam.

Oh, two prisoners

keeping each other company,

that's all.

Two very interesting prisoners.

The actress who

pretends to be a duchess.

The boy who pretends

to be a captain.

I take offense, sir.

It is, of course,

an excellent way

of gathering information.

The duchess and the

English naval officer

whose ship just happens to sail

into the Spanish fleet.

You give him

too much credit, sir.

Do I?

I wonder what the penatty

for spying is here.

Death for him, certainly.

And for you, Miss Cobham

in the New Republic

of France

the guillotine does not

discriminate between sexes.

I confess, sir.

You confess what, madam?

To my foolishness.

For trusting this boy.

Had I known he would sail me

into a nest of dons

I can assure you I would

still be resting in comfort

at Gibrattar.

This is such a dull post

to be imprisoned on.

I have no one for company

except an old aristocrat

and a callow youth.

It does me such good to speak

with a man at last.

But to whom to I talk?

The duchess

or the actress?

(laughs)

Both the actress and

the duchess want to go home.

Let us say you are talking

to the woman.

Horatio, are you still here?

But, Your Grace...

Go to your cell,

Horatio.

What's wrong, Horatio?

Just planning our escape, Archie.

What do you want?

Your lack of civility

does you no credit, sir.

How was your friend,

Colonel de Vergesse?

He is not a friend.

You were more

than friendly.

I did what was necessary

to preserve my alias.

It is lucky for you

that you had

such a valuable bargaining card

to hand, wasn't it?

Oh.

You still have them.

Clearly.

It is lucky for you

that last night I had

another card to play.

At least it bought

his silence.

But how could you?

What is it to you?

Are you jealous?

(sighs)

You completely

misunderstand me.

If I resisted de Vergesse

he would announce my secret

which would lead

to my arrest as a spy

and the discovery of

your precious dispatches.

So I sacrificed some

small insignificant things

such as my pride

and my self-respect.

(sighs)

Your Grace... Miss Cobham.

I am sorry.

I spoke hastily.

But had you told me at first...

Would you have given me

a passage?

Would you have entrusted

His Majesty's secrets

to an actress?

Ma'am, please.

I would have been honored

to have you aboard my ship

whether you were the Duchess

of Wharfedale or Kitty Cobham

or any woman seeking refuge.

But the dispatches... no.

And now?

Now that I know you

I would be grateful

if you would keep them for me.

What, you expect me to cart

the damn things around

in my underwear again?

(laughs)

If Your Grace would be so kind.

Thank you, Horatio.

Hunter:

At present there's

only five of us.

Hornblower (whispers):

Mr. Hunter.

Mr. Hunter, Mr. Kennedy is

getting stronger by the day.

He will soon be able to move.

I know that

you have been making plans.

What information do you have

as to the garrison here?

I would have thought you had

the information

Seeing as though you dine

with them every night.

Now I would like

to sleep.

I have bad news

for both of us,

Mr. Hornblower.

The Duchess has left

on a sloop called the Almeria

bound for Portugal.

So both our days are darker

for her absence.

They will be, sir.

However, she left you,

at least, a parting gift.

She fett that you should learn

my language.

So you have here a lexicon,

and this book.

It is the story of a man

who jousts with windmills.

Her grace thought that

you would understand him.

Kennedy:

Something's going on,

Horatio.

Hornblower:

I know.

What are you going to do?

You speak Spanish,

don't you, Archie?

Hmm?

I do a little, yes.

What are you doing,

Mr. Hunter?

Doing?

I'm getting us out of here.

And how are you planning

to do that?

Before I tell you

I must ask you

whether you are

with us or not.

You are dangerous close

to insubordination, sir.

I am only doing my duty, sir

which is to escape

from here

and return to fight

for my country.

Men:

He's right.

Let us say you succeed

in overpowering the guards,

Mr. Hunter

without the loss of too many

of the men.

What then?

Then we take ourselves a boat.

And what if there are more

soldiers to prevent you

from taking yourselves a boat?

Then we'll

fight them.

No, we will go to a part

of the coast

which is less well defended.

North or south?

Makes no difference.

Wherever there are boats.

And who can speak Spanish to

ask where these boats are?

(laughs)

To find food?

Water?

Clothes to disguise the fact

that you are English sailors

escaped from prison

Tith the whole country

in arms against you?

Listen carefully.

We go when I say

and how I say.

And we go together.

Kennedy will slow us down.

Hornblower:

Kennedy speaks Spanish.

(laughs)

He will save our lives.

Now, are we agreed?

Oldroyd?

Yes, sir.

Aye aye, sir.

Hornblower:

What does this mean, Archie?

Digo, paciencia y barajar.

(whispers):

Hunter's up to something.

Are you sure?

He is, now,

over there.

Right.

Consider your options...

Sir.

What is it,

Matthews?

We didn't know, sir.

Didn't know what?

(groaning in agony)

Help us!

The fool.

Por favor.

Help us, quick.

Por favor.

He's sick.

(groaning loudly)

Que paso?

What do we do, sir?

They're our shipmates,

aren't they?

Oldroyd, behind you!

To me, lads!

(screaming)

(shouts in Spanish)

Apuntar armas!

Mr. Hunter...

Not now!

We are outmanned

and outgunned.

It's not worth it.

Afraid, are you?

No! Think of the men.

This is suicide.

I'd rather die of a bullet

than stay in here.

At them, lads!

(screams)

Hold your fire!

Hold your fire, sir!

(Hunter groans)

Descansen armas.

Let me at him.

Let me at him.

(sobs):

Let me die!

Matthews, Styles.

Take him back

to the cell.

Let me die.

No...

Come on.

(gasping, groaning)

Massaredo:

Two of my men are dead.

Three are badly injured.

I want to know who

is responsible.

I am, sir.

You?

I cannot

Believe it.

Nonetheless, sir.

But you gave me

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