The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex Page #2

There has seldom been a man

so unwise, so headstrong...

...but he could see the necessity...

...of keeping friends

and not making enemies at court.

But you quarrel with the queen because

she wanted peace and you wanted war.

War? There is a war with Spain.

And such a silly, frightened womanish

war as only a woman would wage.

Let me answer that.

You are not forthright with yourself.

You wish to complete

your record as general...

...crush Spain, make a name

like Caesar's, and climb to fame.

You won Cdiz and caught

the people's hearts.

Caught their voices until the streets

ring with your name when you pass.

Take care. You are

too popular already.

My lord, you are loved better

than the queen.

That's your danger.

She will not suffer a subject

to eclipse her, she cannot.

Make no mistake, she will not.

- So I must wait? Hold back?

- Precisely.

Why? I come of better

blood than Elizabeth.

My name is among the earls who stood

around the oak with King John.

What the nobles once taught a king,

a noble may teach a queen.

You talk treason and death.

The old order is dead. Your house

will die if you cannot learn.

This is Elizabeth we deal with.

What's a king but a man,

a queen but a woman?

There's one man she fears,

and that man's yourself.

- And she has good reason to fear you.

- To fear me? Why? I'm loyal.

You're a man not easily governed...

...moreover, a general,

popular and acclaimed.

And last, she loves you...

...which makes you more to be feared

whether you love her or not.

Love her?

I most certainly do love her.

- My lord, a man as young as yourself...

- lf she were my mother's kitchen hag...

...toothless and wooden leg, she'd still

make the others colorless. She's a witch.

She's got a witch's brain.

I love her. I hate her.

I adore her.

That side of it you must

know for yourself.

But, my lord,

permit me to caution you.

Don't count too much

on the loves of queens.

Thanks, Schoolmaster Bacon, for that

sound lecture and the sound advice.

Which you probably will not take.

Which I probably will not.

- What's the shortest road to London?

- Up the hill to the river, then follow it.

So you would take the queen's knight,

Mistress Penelope?

I fear you are overpresumptuous

and over-inexperienced.

- All knights are fair game, Your Grace.

- I have observed you seem to think so.

The queen will protect her own.

Why didn't you move?

- Lf I do, l...

- You will take my knight.

Is that so far from your desire?

Move, I tell you.

Check to Your Grace.

I fear the queen is powerless now.

The queen is never powerless.

For example...

I had no desire to play,

but Your Majesty commanded me.

Never mind, child.

It's only a game,

and I'm out of sorts.

I'm tired of it.

Do something. Sing. Play.

Amuse me.

- Your Majesty?

- Well?

Would you like to hear

Master Marlowe's song:

- "The Passionate Shepherd to His Love"?

- Anything you please.

Please, Penelope, don't.

- Your Majesty.

- Well?

By Your Grace, Raleigh has lately writ

an answer to Master Marlowe's ballad.

I'll sing it if Mistress Margaret

will take Marlowe's verses against me.

A tournament of song?

By all means.

Proceed. Proceed.

So Sir Walter has turned rhymester.

The words will fit perfectly.

A woman in love with a man

much younger than herself.

Are you mad, Pen? She'll beat you...

...or send you to the tower.

Come live with me

And be my love

Enjoy with me

The pleasures here above

That hills and valleys

Dales and fields

And all the wooded mountains yield

If I could be

As young and fair as you

Believe what every shepherd

Said was true

These pretty speeches

Might me move

To live with you

And be your love

- And I will make your bed of roses

- In lovers ' vows there is but little truth

- And of a thousand fragrant posies

- And love cannot endure without its youth

A cap of flowers and a kirtle

The flowers fade

When summertime is ended

- Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle

- Our love is dead

A love we thought so splendid

If these delights

Your mind may move

Then live with me

And be my love

But were I young

And loved so well

Then I might hold you close forever...

So, you brazen wench, you defy me!

You dare hold your queen up

to ridicule? You forward hussy!

You, who can keep

neither your eyes nor your nose...

...or your person where they belong!

Look at you.

Because a gentleman once glanced

at you doesn't entitle you...

...to come into my presence

dressed like an indecent hedge drab.

Take it off, you shameless baggage.

Get out of my sight!

You too. Do you stand around like a herd

of stupid cattle while I am treated so?

You, too, think I am too old, too ugly

for a man to look upon with love.

Take them down!

Do you hear me?

Smash them.

Destroy them.

Break every mirror in the palace. I never

want to see one in Whitehall again!

What is this?

What now?

Why are you crying,

Mistress Margaret?

Come here.

What have you to fear?

You, the most innocent of them all?

Look at me.

Or do you too find your queen's face

too harsh for kindly glances?

Oh, no, Your Majesty.

I think you're lovely. Really, I do.

But I was crying because I...

- Well?

- Well...

A little for myself

because I was frightened and lonely.

Because I was lonely,

I cried for you too.

You cried for me?

Oh, forgive me, Your Grace...

...but I too know what it is

to love someone...

...and not be able to see and to hear.

It makes me cross too sometimes

and out of sorts.

You've no idea, when I'm

out of your presence, how horrible I am.

Are you indeed?

And what is he like,

this lucky one that you are lonely for?

Oh, he's so tall...

...and his nose curls up.

His nose what?

I mean, when he laughs,

his nose crinkles up like this.

He laughs a lot, you know?

Sometimes at me.

Imagine. Oh, and he's

handsome too, no doubt.

Oh, madam...

...and his eyes are blue,

like cornflowers, only much nicer.

And when he looks at me...

Who is this paragon?

Why, Sir Peter Finchley, Your Grace.

Don't you remember?

Sir Peter Finchley?

Yes. Now I remember.

A wide-shouldered rascal...

...and much better-looking

than any man has a right to be.

With Baganold's forces in Ireland,

isn't he?

- You want him home again, I suppose?

- Oh, more than anything in the world.

He shall be recalled.

I don't know how to thank

Your Majesty.

But it's doubtful if he'll come.

I shall command it.

And when he takes you

in his arms again...

...thank heaven you're not a queen.

But I thought to be a queen...

To be a queen is to be

less than human.

To put pride before desire...

...to search men's hearts

for tenderness...

...and find only ambition...

...to cry out in the dark

for one unselfish voice...

...and hear only the dry rustle

of papers of state.

To turn to one's beloved

with stars for eyes...

...and have him see behind them only

the shadow of the executioner's block.

A queen has no hour for love.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes