The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex Page #6

Perhaps she...

Oh, yes. Perhaps.

Essex, what is it? Does she...?

I've endured much, but this caps all.

Listen.

"Lord Essex will disperse his army...

...and return immediately to London

to give himself up."

I'm to return to London

to give myself up.

Do you hear that?

- To give myself up!

- But why?

Why? You may well ask.

Is she in league with Tyrone?

She obstructs my campaign

in every way.

Now, when I'm to finish him...

...I'm to return to London

to give myself up.

- She's the queen.

- And I'm her subject.

But I'm a man too, which

she seems to have forgotten.

Knollys.

- Milord?

- Rouse the camp.

Have every man in.

We march tonight.

- Tonight?

- At once.

- To return to London?

- No. To smash Tyrone.

Bugler! Sound the call to arms.

Remember, my lords,

I'm not alone in this.

Your proof, let me remind you.

The queen gave you letters

to be forwarded.

If Essex did not receive them...

...Her Majesty knows

your feelings for him...

...and would conclude that your jealousy

destroyed them. Or am I wrong?

Why did I ever trust you?

You used me.

Tricked me for your own ends.

Well, I won't stand it. I won't.

I'll tell the queen.

No matter what, I'll tell her.

That we've intercepted their letters!

You've a lovely head

and neck, my lady.

It would be a pity to separate them,

but where would you find pity...

...in the heart of a jealous queen?

Sir Francis.

- You're going to the queen?

- Her Majesty sent for me.

I'll speak with you first.

- Lf it's to tell me what I already know...

- What?

Everything about the suppression of

letters written by Essex and the queen.

What do you intend to do?

I'll let the queen question me.

I'm late already.

If you make accusations

you can't prove...

...you'll argue yourself

under the headsman's ax.

- Lf the queen learns nothing?

- With us, there's no position you can't fill.

If you need an excuse...

I'll find my own excuses.

The queen loves her kingdom and people

above all men and always will.

That is the rock on which

Essex's ship will founder.

You need not trouble

about what I shall say.

You're quite a weathervane...

...always riding

whatever wind is fairest.

I am a man of sense.

Penelope!

Where is Master Bacon?

I summoned him half an hour ago.

Is this a promenade, gentlemen?

Am I never to look out

without seeing you?

- Your pardon, Your Grace, l...

- I'm weary of your faces. Get out.

Come with me.

Caution.

Once again, you force me

to wait for you.

Your pardon.

I was detained by Sir Robert Cecil.

- Are you Cecil's friend?

- I have never been.

He is a shrewd man.

He is a good man to follow.

- He would stand in well at court.

- That may be.

Why are you not his friend, then?

We're not on the same side.

Are you still Essex's friend?

Yes, madam.

- He is a dangerous man to follow.

- Dangerous?

- He is no longer in my favor. Forget him.

- Your Majesty...

All friends of Essex are going

straightaway to the tower.

Are you still his friend?

Yes, madam. Is that all?

- Sit down.

- But, Your Majesty...

Sit down.

You don't believe me. Why?

If you intended

to imprison me in the tower...

...I'd be there now

and no talk about it.

You're shrewd. Perhaps too shrewd.

If honesty were shrewd, madam,

it would enjoy greater favor.

Honesty.

If I could only be sure

of one honest voice.

Tell me...

He wouldn't,

couldn't fail me, could he?

- No, Your Grace.

- Then why hasn't he written me?

I've written him my love

time and time again.

Tell me truly, bitter or not.

Why hasn't he answered?

Have you angered him,

sent him unwelcome orders?

He's very proud, you know.

I've cut off all revenue and supplies...

...ordered him to disband

his forces and return.

To send a leader out with an army

and then to desert him...

...heap disgrace upon him.

- But before that...

...I wrote him lovingly many times.

- And he answered?

- Nothing.

Well, that, frankly, madam, as Essex's

friend, that can hardly be tolerated.

- Nor will it be.

- But I don't wish to turn you against him.

Perhaps there was

some misunderstanding.

Misunderstanding?

He had my letters, didn't he?

Didn't he?

If you sent them,

he should have received them.

He'd tell you if they didn't arrive.

You've had word from him,

haven't you?

- Yes, but l...

- Yes! He wrote you, but not me.

Or are you lying?

I think you are.

I think you lie to me.

That's it!

Lies, lies, lies!

Trapped and strangling

in a jungle of lies and deceit.

You! You, too, at the first, making me

believe you wouldn't betray him.

No.

No. I've gone mad.

Night after night, pacing my room.

Sleepless, tortured...

...saying, " He loves me,

he loves me not."

He loves me not

and has never loved me.

He thought he'd break me

by not writing.

Break me till I'd say, " I'm yours.

All that I am and have is yours.

Body, soul and throne."

That's it. He never wanted me.

He wanted my kingdom.

But I am queen still, and that

he shall never take from me.

I'm not broken yet...

...am I, Bacon?

No, Your Majesty, nor ever will be.

No, no.

No, we must follow him no longer.

See him no more, my friend.

He walks on quicksand. Avoid him.

Yes, Your Majesty.

And go now.

You have done well. I trust you.

Your Grace.

- What is it?

- A truce party, milord.

Fetch them here.

Sound the cease-fire.

- You be Lord of Essex?

- I am. What is it?

I have a message

from our general, Tyrone.

- Well?

- He has a wish for to talk submission.

Submission?

Very well, but on one condition.

That all resistance ends immediately.

It's already ceased, worst luck.

Lead the way.

You're the Earl of Tyrone?

If you like. Plain Hugh O'Neill will do.

- You're Essex, I take it?

- I am. Plain Robert Devereux will do.

You've a sense of humor,

which you'll need.

- Submission?

- Aye, submission.

You're a great fighter, Tyrone.

It's a pleasure to meet you at last.

Now, let's get down to it.

- My terms...

- Your terms.

You have a sense of humor.

It is me that's granting terms...

...or maybe you misunderstood what I

meant. I meant yours, certainly not mine.

Come now, man.

I've no time for jests.

- You're on the run.

- Oh, are we now?

The boys are skipping over the bogs

for exercise, showing you the way.

To where? Into the very heart

of Ulster, I suppose?

No, that won't do.

- You're beaten.

- Sure.

You've the whole of Ireland

before you now, but...

Take a squint at the sky.

The smoke you see, me friend,

is the smoke of your burning camp.

Your ordnance, your food

and precious little you had...

...and supplies is warming

the hearts of Ireland.

The road's tore up.

Your guides came back to me.

My guides?

They're my men.

Glad to lend them to you.

Me whole army's drawn up

betwixt you and the sea.

In short, Lord Essex, you're trapped.

Now maybe you understand

what I meant by submission.

I'll not do it while

I have an army. I'll fight.

Without food or munitions?

You'd only get yourselves

butchered or drowned.

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