The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex Page #5

- Are you afraid I might return in triumph?

- Not that, dearest. No.

But there are those here at court,

powerful enemies...

...who would love to see you

gone from me...

...and who would stop at nothing

to trick you into disaster.

- Am I afraid of such...?

- I asked you not to be angry.

Not angry?

When you think I can't outflank

such numskulls as Raleigh and his clique?

Very well.

Go, if you like.

Only I love you and say

what would be wisest.

The things I love in you most,

your honesty, your reckless pride...

...are the very things

they would play upon, sweet.

All I ask of you is be careful.

Surely you can do so little

for one who loves you so well.

Will you promise?

Promise.

I promise.

Now we must go...

...and talk of Ireland.

This deficit has grown

to alarming proportions.

It's now so large,

we can no longer ignore it.

What do you suggest, milord?

Either a drastic increase in our present

taxes or a series of additional taxes.

- Kendrick will not endure it.

- Milords...

...let us leave this question.

Any further business before us?

There is one perpetual subject,

Your Majesty...

...which we take up time after time

and always leave unsettled:

Tyrone's rebellion in Ulster.

It's no longer a smoldering coal. It's

a running fire spreading north to south.

- Which means?

- Men. Money. Ships.

And more than that, a leader.

A lord protector...

...who'll carry fire and sword from

end to end till there are no more rebels.

Who is this leader?

Unless I am wrong...

...a proved and able general,

Lord Essex.

Yes, indeed. Essex, Essex.

Thank you.

Essex is master of the ordnance.

I need him here.

Who else?

Sir Walter told me before the meeting

that he'd go if Your Majesty wished.

But we both believe Essex

should go with him.

In what capacity?

Leading an equal command.

Two generals, landing north and south,

meeting to crush Tyrone.

You'd have two lord protectors

in Ireland?

It was our thought

to name Raleigh lord protector.

And I under him?

Since your Cdiz adventure

ended so lamely...

...Raleigh should have

first place in this.

My C...?

- That's an insult!

- I speak for the good of the state.

You never spoke for any cause

but your own.

Stop this instantly!

Whoever makes you angry

has won already, Essex.

You'd make me swallow insults

from this bookkeeper...

...who never waved anything

more dangerous than a quill?

Well, were you not wrong at Cdiz?

That's not for you to say.

And if I go to Ireland,

I'll go alone.

Will you?

I'll have something to say about that.

Don't you see what they're trying to do?

I see what Cecil and his friends

are plainly enough:

Yellow rats who only

show their teeth when cornered.

- Essex!

- Who bow and smile and scrape...

...and spend their nights gnawing the

chairs and floors out from under us all.

Madam, this is fantastic!

- Lf we're to discuss...

- Do what you wish about Ireland.

I wash my hands of it.

That we don't doubt.

It's a difficult, dangerous job...

...so how can we blame Lord Essex

for refusing to risk it?

You challenge me to go?

Give me the men I need.

Put me in command.

If I fail to crush Tyrone, take my sword.

I'll never use it again.

- Oh, you fool!

- They've challenged me!

It doesn't matter.

You must not go.

- Don't you see?

- Of course I see.

I know that once I've gone,

they'll try to strip me here at home.

And I say to them, "Try it."

I'll go and I'll return too.

More of a problem to the Raleighs

and the Cecils than before I left.

We can hardly refuse

this gracious offer now, Your Majesty.

No.

I suppose not.

Council is dismissed.

Meet again tomorrow.

- And your decision?

- Decision's made. I go to Ireland.

Yes, go to Ireland.

And go to the devil too!

Well?

My court jester once said:

"All the best fools

come from Ireland...

...but only a greater fool

would go there."

You should have my fool's brain,

and he yours.

You'd profit by the exchange.

Thank you, Majesty.

Oh, you!

What malicious star rose in my sky

the day you were born?

You're a child in council.

I saw them draw you into this

and tried to warn you, but it was no use.

Why not win in Ireland?

No man wins there.

Ireland's been fatal to every commander

who risked his fortune there.

Even the cleverest of soldiers

would find it difficult.

But you're so dazzled

to command an army...

...that you'd follow the devil

in an assault on heaven.

That's one thing the devil

doesn't know.

Heaven's always taken by storm.

Robert...

I can't let you go.

- I'll never see you again.

- Foolish fears, my darling.

Remember this:

That when I come back

and all turns out well...

...you thought all

would turn out badly.

Come closer and tell me

everything will turn out well.

And so it will. So it will.

Do you really want to go?

Yes.

No. No.

But I've said I would, and I must.

It's not too late yet.

Remember...

...if you lose, it will divide us.

If you win, that will divide us too.

I'll win, and nothing will divide us.

Is it so hard to believe in me?

No.

I'll even forgive you if you need it.

Here.

My father gave me this ring...

...and said if ever

he lost his temper with me...

...to bring it to him

and he'd forgive me.

And once, long after...

...when he'd forgotten

and was angry...

...it saved my life.

Darling, if you're ever angry,

rings won't help.

Yes, this one would.

I'd think of you as you are now...

...and it would.

I'll take it...

...to remember you in absence.

No. Take it for a better reason.

Take it because the years are long

and full of sharp, wearing days...

...that change us into people

we do not know...

...lest you and I,

who love each other now...

...should wake some morning

strangers and enemies...

...in an alien world, far off.

You fear you'll not always love me?

No.

That you will not always

let me love you.

Close your ranks.

You know what happens to stragglers.

Left flank, close in!

Our losses are growing serious,

my lord.

Losses I expect and can understand.

It's this forever going on

after a retreating enemy...

...over these fever bogs, getting further

and further from our base.

One bold, swift advance now,

and we'd have Tyrone in a trap.

How can we advance lacking arms,

ammunition, necessities even?

The queen seems

to have forgotten us.

She's worse than forgotten us.

- There's a courier from London, milord.

- At last. Where is he? Fetch him here.

Even the water's rotten.

Come.

- Well, is this all?

- Yes, milord.

- No letter from Her Majesty?

- That's all Cecil gave.

You lie. You lie!

- Who tampered with you?

- No, milord, I swear...

- Wait, man. Don't.

- He lies, I tell you.

She wouldn't leave us here without one

word from her except bare dispatches.

How am I gonna beat these Irish

when she denies me men, food, arms...

...and doesn't answer

my pleas for them?

And not a single word

from her except these.

- But you haven't read it yet.

- What?

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