The Sea Hawk

The riches of the New World are limitless,

and the New World is ours...

with our ships carrying the Spanish flag

to the seven seas...

our armies sweeping over Africa,

the Near East, and the Far West...

invincible everywhere

but on our own doorstep.

Only Northern Europe

holds out against us.

Why? Tell me.

If you will permit me, sire.

Our depleted treasury.

An army can advance

only to the end of its purse strings.

Nonsense.

That is not the real reason, Peralta.

Why not admit it?

The reason is a puny rock-bound island

as barren and treacherous as her queen...

who secretly gives aid to our enemies

while her pirates plunder our commerce.

You know as well as I, Peralta...

we cannot keep Northern Europe

in submission...

until we have a reckoning with England.

It is not yet time, Your Majesty.

Not until the Armada is built.

Time?

The destiny of Spain

cannot wait upon the fitness of time.

I have but one life...

and that life is all too short

for me to fulfill that destiny.

- Don Alvarez.

- Sire.

You will proceed at once to England

as my ambassador.

You will assure the queen of my patience

and continued affection...

to allay any suspicion

in regard to our plans.

As you wish, Your Majesty.

With England conquered,

nothing can stand in our way.

Northern Africa,

Europe as far east as the Urals...

then the New World,

to the north, to the south...

west to the Pacific,

over the Pacific to China and the Indies...

will our empire spread.

One day, before my death...

we shall sit here

and gaze at this map upon the wall.

It will have ceased

to be a map of the world.

It will be Spain.

Aloft, there! Hold taut on the bowline.

We're losing the wind!

I regret our slow passage,

Your Excellency...

but it seems our sail

cannot entice the wind.

Then we shall not reach England

by Wednesday.

Perhaps. If the galley holds out.

Capt. Lopez, it is extremely important

my niece be presented to the queen...

before her new maids of honor are chosen.

They say Elizabeth surrounds herself

with beauty...

in the hope that it may be contagious.

Your niece will have no trouble

meeting the queen's requirements.

Maria, you might hit it once

where I can reach it.

You said you needed the exercise, Martha.

I've had it, enough for the whole voyage.

- Ready, Martha?

- Yes, love.

- Lieutenant.

- Sir.

Send another lookout aloft

to the mizzentop.

Yes, sir.

Another lookout aloft to the mizzentop!

Why these extra precautions, Captain?

Isn't the fo'c'sle lookout enough?

I am responsible for your safety,

Your Excellency...

and we are entering the lanes

of the English pirates.

How very interesting.

If your men spy any of their ships,

I wish you'd let me know.

Like hawks, Don Alvarez,

they're on you before you see them.

They say the devil blows in their sails.

Surely you don't believe these myths?

They would hardly dare attack a ship

with His Majesty's ambassador aboard.

It'd be as much as their heads are worth

when news reaches the Queen.

Perhaps. Excuse me, Your Excellency,

but the wind does not serve well.

- Bo's'n!

- Aye, aye, sir.

- Raise the beat eight counts.

- At once, Captain.

There below,

raise the beat of the oars eight counts.

Aye, aye. Eight counts, seor.

Raise the beat eight counts.

- I know where we are.

- You can't tell, William.

We haven't known where we were

for months.

I'm sure this time.

Feel the motion, the groundswell?

Only one place like that.

The English Channel.

The English Channel.

We're in the English Channel.

English ship off the starboard bow!

Bo's'n, have the drummers

beat to quarters.

Master gunner,

have the deck cannon double-shotted.

An attack.

Hold back on your oars. Pretend to row.

Hold back on your oars.

Have your men in position.

To your stations.

Gun crews, to your stations.

Charge your cannon

and stand ready to repel attack.

Send the archers and musketmen

to their positions.

Archers and musketmen,

to your stations!

Master-at-arms,

double the guard at the main hatch.

Double the guard at the main hatch!

Run out your guns.

Train your sights to his rigging.

I must ask you to go below.

You will not be safe here.

The pirates won't dare attack

when they see the King's emblem.

Guns may stop them. Nothing else.

- Raise the beat to 20.

- Aye, aye, seor!

Raise the beat to 20. Get together!

Together, I said. Faster, you British dogs.

Faster. Put some weight on that oar.

Ahoy, Captain. It's Thorpe's ship.

The Albatross.

Thorpe? Why, that's impossible.

Only a month ago he was at San Domingo.

Look, Captain, on the staff.

The banner of the Albatross.

You better take cover below, matey,

or you'll be stopping a cannonball.

She's hauling closer to the wind!

Feast your eyes on that.

The Spaniard mounts 40 guns

if she mounts one.

She's loaded down, too.

Maybe she's too big a bite

for our teeth, eh, Matson?

Ever see a Spaniard

the Captain couldn't swallow whole?

Captain's got the Spaniards bewitched,

that's what he has.

Yes, and didn't we dust off

His Royal Highness' britches in Cdiz, too?

I mind that, me lad...

and the dust was worth 30 shillings

to the ounce.

What a prize.

I don't think she'll get away from us.

The Albatross isn't a barge

you can run away from.

We're sucking the wind

out of the Spaniards' sails.

If it's air they need, we can put a draft

through their bow pretty quick.

Captain, what about it?

Shall we let them have a round?

- You'll fire when I give the word, Mr. Pitt.

- Aye, aye, sir.

- Mr. Preston!

- Aye, aye, sir.

Give them a hail, if you please.

- Suggest they lower their colors.

- Aye, aye, sir.

Seor Captain, lower your flag!

It would be just like that Spaniard

to surrender and spoil our fun.

Perfectly possible, Mr. Pitt.

Once more, Mr. Preston.

You hear me?

Lower your flag!

One Ione cannonball

out of an entire broadside.

Very well, Mr. Pitt.

Show them how to lower those colors.

Aye, aye, sir.

Scott, teach them some etiquette.

Ready, men?

Lay for the foremast and fire on the uproll.

Aye, aye, sir.

- Canons ready for a broadside?

- Primed and ready, sir.

Fire!

Stand by to come about

on the larboard tack.

Go to your posts.

Gunners, stand by to rake her stern!

Fire.

Put out the fire.

Heave the dead overboard!

- Now hard at starboard.

- Starboard your helm!

The Spaniard's listing.

We must have hit it below the waterline.

Very good, Burke.

Cease firing.

It's cutlasses now, men.

We're going to board her!

A sharp edge, to cut the gold buttons

off the Spanish captain's doublet.

Nobody's to board her

before I give the word. Is that clear?

All right, Mr. Preston.

Haul into her hard over starboard.

Grappling hooks away!

Over the side, men. Boarders away!

- Your ship's sinking, Captain.

- Then we shall drown together.

Brave but impractical.

We English are a practical people.

I have no intention of drowning with you.

- The trumpeter. Quick, near the fo'c'sle.

- Aye, aye, sir.

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