The Shadow of the Tower (1972) s01e03 Episode Script

The Schooling Of Apes

1 - What is your name? - Lambert Simnel.
(Bell chiming) In the name of God, now! Now, again, what is your name? Edward Plantagenet, Prince.
- Title? - Earl of Warwick.
- Who is your father? - George Plantagenet, Duke of Clarence.
- And where is he now? - He died, in the Tower at London.
- When? - In King Edward's time, my uncle.
- Have you any other uncles? - No.
Oh Richard, king of the blessed memory.
But he's dead, too.
How? Henry the Tudor, Earl Richmond, slew him at Bosworth field and took the crown.
Are there any others? - Of my family? - Yes.
They're all dead.
Uncles, brothers, cousins, all dead.
Not true.
There are some left alive! I have an aunt, in Flanders.
Duchess - Margaret! - Duchess Margaret of Burgundy.
My aunt.
- Cousins? - No Yes! My cousin of Lincoln, John John de la Pole, Earl of Lincoln.
But he's not of the male line.
I am, the first of my house.
- The Royal House of York.
- Which means? Come on, come on! The most apparent answer! Which means? - The rightful king.
- Oh! I am the true and only king! - King what? - Failing all others of the male line and others of the House of York, Edward VI, by the grace of God, King of England and France, Lord of Ireland, Duke of - That's better.
- (Tapping) Who's that?! Simnel! What in the name of God are you doing here? What the good brothers of Abingdon pay me for - repairing of organs, Master Simmons.
You are also paid to keep out of the abbey while the boy is here! I'll see my son now and then.
Keep an eye on him, like.
He's not your son any more, Simnel.
I'm the Earl of Warwick now, Father.
Master Simmons told me.
He saved me from my enemies.
I'm going to be King of England! (Simnel) "Your Highness"! Simnel was spying, Father Abbot.
You were told to keep away from Abingdon.
You're a distraction to the boy.
- (Simnel) He is my son.
- Was! You were very well paid for him.
Now, get out and keep silence.
You'll fool a lot of folk, Father Abbot, but you'll not fool me.
Princes, earls and the like.
There be a proper king, Henry the Tudor, up in London.
You'll not fool him neither if what they say on him's true.
Do you hear me, son? Look at me! You'll fool nobody in the end.
I like being a prince.
You're a pawn in a play.
Simnel, get out! Was that wise? To let him go? - He's not safe.
- He'll have to be taken care of.
Now, gentlemen.
Before I forget.
Father Simmons, this is Master Christopher Swan and Master John Mayne, redoubtable citizens of Abingdon and loyal friends of our cause, eh, masters? This is Father Simmons of Oxford.
A fine clerk, Simmons, and if all goes well, will be our Archbishop of Canterbury, no less.
It will go well! God has told me.
Father Simmons sleeps lightly and dreams deeply.
The holy spirit has been most communicative.
However, we can't always depend upon heavenly manifestations, no matter how divine they may appear to be, so let us limit ourselves to the more mundane aspects of our undertaking.
The situation is this.
You, boy.
Go to the door and keep watch.
If Your Highness pleases.
The boy is to go to Ireland.
- So soon? - The sooner the better! The Irish Lords are prepared to meet our protégé and if they approve of him, will acknowledge him the true Earl of Warwick and rightful heir to the throne.
The Irish will use any stick to beat the English.
That boy is not "any stick"! The man Simnel calls him "my son".
Master Simmons here calls him the Earl of Warwick.
- I know he is! - Either way, he's a child.
He may not have the authority, it's true, but he will have the prestige if he's accepted and that he must be! Do you have doubts, Master Mayne? Henry Tudor is my quarrel, and all his house.
'Gainst that, the cause of York is my cause and in its service I follow any man or child.
So if yon boy can be what you say, then let it be so.
And you, Master Swan? I cannot tell.
There'll be many as hard to satisfy.
You, boy, go to my parlor and prepare us some wine.
You know where it is.
Come, masters, I have something will warm you and bend you perhaps.
Now are you content, Master Swan? There are your captains, your leaders' names.
Lord Francis Lovell? How do you know where he is? Since the rising of the Staffords last year, no one has seen him.
Lord Lovell's attainder after that affair is good reason for him to lie low.
You will, however, find him in Lancashire with Sir Thomas Broughton.
I'll find him? Here are some letters which I trust you will deliver to my Lord.
Yes, Master Swan? Lord Lovell in Lancashire.
Master Mayne, you will have charge of the boy into Ireland.
Here's your passports and some letters to our friends in Dublin.
You will be sent further instructions there.
My God, Father Abbot.
I'm beginning to smell the fruit before the bud.
(Laughter) (Abbot) Father Simmons is not happy.
My little prince will be taken from me.
In order to pursue the end you promised him.
- The Earl of Lincoln? - You are to sound him out in London.
John of Lincoln? He's not interested in us.
He was bought by Henry Tudor.
But not paid for.
Ingratitude destroys devotion.
In the Earl's case, Father Simmons is to find out by how much, is that not so, Father Simmons? - If it will endorse our cause.
- Endorse it?! If John of Lincoln will come out for us we should need little else.
Now come, gentlemen, drink up and let's about it.
Here are your orders.
Nothing remains now but the doing of it.
Quickly and without noise.
A moment, masters.
Before you auspicate this enterprise, we would like to thank you for your kind service in our cause.
Almighty God, who blessed us with the name Plantagenet, and preserved us in our title Warwick the Earl, and will regenerate our Royal House of York and in due time, anoint us England's lawful king.
That same God who will reward you till I am able, protect, guard and guide you.
Gentlemen, your hands.
You'll not forget your servant Simmons, Highness.
Come, boy.
There's work to be done.
Go with Master Mayne.
Simmons, wake up.
Reality's for dreams.
You are to make shift for us in London.
The Earl of Lincoln, remember.
John Hoddlestone knight, 42 shillings.
Neil Thornborough Thomas Otter - My Lord of Lincoln.
- Your Grace? There's wine, over there somewhere.
Bring it to me.
If you please.
Thomas Otter, six shillings eight pence.
Yes.
The post of King's Butler is an honorable one, you know, John.
I consider it so, Highness.
Not as influential post as, er, President of the Council of the North, or Lord Lieutenant of Ireland.
Both of which were yours once, were they not? Thank you.
Do you miss them? - Do have some with me.
- It's very late, your Grace.
Oh, come, sit, John, sit.
And take some wine.
Do you miss these honors? I am about the King's business, your Grace keeps me occupied.
You have been industrious on our behalf, very true.
I only wondered if time has been lying heavy on your hands.
Trying treason cases in London and the Midlands.
Three commissions inquiring into felonious practices in roughly the same area, a council whenever you've commanded You make a great deal of noise on our council.
- To little effect.
- Oh? How to little effect? The oath of liveries and maintenance which I am expected to administer.
- It was our - I'm not satisfied.
Oh? The returns are inaccurate.
The receipt of fines small.
Who is to blame for that? Perhaps the receipts are small because you are in disagreement with our order.
With care and patience I could come round to it, your Grace.
You have a deal of care and patience, then? I shouldn't have thought they sat easily on you.
It must be hard for a man to lose his whole future as well as his past, on the outcome of one day's warring at Bosworth Field.
Live to see it all go.
I think I count Your Highness' trust sufficient compensation.
You think you've got a bargain, then? Are you sure that my trust is enough? Can a subject want more than the goodwill of his sovereign? More wine, your Grace? It's very late.
Thank you, my Lord.
(Knocking) The King's guard on business to his Grace the Bishop of Exeter.
- (Bishop) What is it? - I have something for my Lord Bishop.
(Bishop) Bring him in, Captain.
Well? According to your instructions, my Lord, I had him observed.
First in the kitchens where he took no food but spoke with several persons and later with the Earl of Lincoln's servant, whom he sought out.
He would have nothing to do with him, but this man followed him to my Lord's lodgings.
- Did he enter the Earl's lodgings? - No, my Lord, the Earl was not there.
Where is the Earl of Lincoln? Here in the palace, on the King's business.
Go on, Captain.
This man, my Lord, made several attempts to speak to the Earl in his chambers.
Did he speak to the Earl? No, my Lord.
He tried to, but the Earl was rather amazed at him and ordered me to throw him out of the palace.
Very sensible of the Earl.
Has he spoken to you, Captain? Only to beg his freedom of me and not without a bribe.
I found these on him, my Lord, which I took from him.
Thank you, Captain.
Leave him with me.
My Lord.
But stay within call.
Come.
You have not been unnoticed, Master What is your name? Richard Simmons.
Who sent you, Simmons? That hotbed of malcontents again.
The Abbot of Abingdon will never learn.
Captain, bring that man to his Grace of Canterbury's chamber.
I am the Archbishop of Canterbury, Master Simmons.
There is no provision in canon law nor room in England for two.
Contrary to your heavenly expectations.
I'm also Lord Chancellor of this realm so I have you on both counts, religious and secular.
I'm afraid you'll have to tell us a little more.
And you will.
Take him to Lambeth.
He'll perhaps recall the names of his friends in prison.
Full up, my Lord.
All the ecclesiastical prisons are.
Oh, dear.
Then in my secular capacity, I must put him on the King's payroll.
The Tower.
I am a priest! You cannot send me to the Tower! A king's Grace does not like conspiracy or insurrection, Master Simmons.
And I do not like priests of that color! They give the Church a bad name.
Take him away.
How far is this gone, my Lord? When the frogs croak, my dear Fox, do not imagine that they alone inhabit the pond.
The pike, below the waterline, silent, unseen, is far more dangerous and harder to catch.
Lincoln.
No names, friend Fox.
But with a little care and the right bait that pike might be taken.
And Lovell.
Have they made contact with him? If they found that traitor, and these papers suggest they know of his whereabouts, they know more than we do.
The devil will find his own.
True But the fact that no one has betrayed him, not a man has come forward with information concerning Lovell suggests that we are confronted with hell itself.
We do possess a sovereign prince anointed and approved of by the Church of God in whose hand is the power of the law.
Lovell and his friends would do well to remember that.
- Take me to Lord Lovell.
- What should I know of his whereabouts? Oh, God.
(Sighs ) This is Furness and you are Sir Thomas Broughton.
- I have said so! - Then take me to Lord Francis Lovell! I have also told you I don't know where Viscount Lovell is.
Oh, God in heaven, we waste time.
I know he is here! Sir Thomas, I have letters for him and news.
You have nothing to fear.
Who sent you? I come from John Sante and his friends in Oxfordshire.
Well, this is Lancashire! What should I know of a priest in Abingdon? I mentioned neither priest nor Abingdon.
Lovell is here.
My Lord! Lord Francis Lovell! Lord Lovell? Abingdon Bridge is falling down! Then the Guild of Holy Crafts must build it up again.
I was with you, my Lord, at Bosworth.
I fought with you for blessed Richard the King.
- And "Holy Cross" was our battle cry.
- And shall be so again.
Christopher Swan, my Lord, of Abingdon.
- (Broughton ) My Lord Francis Viscount Lovell.
- I know.
I did my best, my Lord.
It is not easy harboring an outlaw.
Well, having found the fugitive, what have you for him? From John Sante and his friends in Oxfordshire, my Lord.
You'll find them to some purpose.
- Fresh stirrings? - Aye, most potent.
But now urgent.
Before I left the Midlands, I heard that one of our number has already been taken and is now in the Tower.
- Which one? - Richard Simmons.
God alone knows what he said, how much the King or his council know, or how far the usurper's arm has reached to break the venture.
If I know Henry Tudor, he will wait until he's sure.
He has a great capacity for patience.
- That must be used for our advantage.
- We must act speedily! - This boy.
- Yes.
The Earl of Warwick.
(Laughs ) Oh, come now.
He is, so.
To the life.
Only if the real Earl is dead, and who's seen him alive? Since Bosworth, Tudor keeps him in the Tower.
But Simmons rescued the Earl.
He saved him, proved his birth, and showed him to us.
His claim is true, he is Whoever he is, if you say he is the Earl of Warwick, Master Swan - Many do.
- Then he'll serve our turn.
The name Warwick is enough, no matter who bears it.
- And he's out of the country? - Aye, safe in Ireland.
The Irish Lords to a man have come out for him.
Good.
John Mayne has already left Ireland and is in Flanders.
If anyone were to espouse our cause, it'll be the Duchess Margaret.
She'd wed the devil to see the Welshman dead.
- Right.
You've never met her, Swan? - No.
Broughton has.
A great charming widow.
The last of old York's brood, and as fierce a fighter as ever her brothers were.
She sits in Mechlin keeping open house for the enemies of the House of Lancaster and her greatest enemy is Henry Tudor himself.
Oh, it'll be good to see her again.
Will you come, Swan? Oxfordshire will not be safe if they have Abbot John and his friends.
Safe or not, sir, I must tell Abbot John your plans.
And I must receive further instructions.
Well, have a care.
We shall need every man.
Some more wine, Sir Thomas.
Holy Cross.
And the Earl of Warwick.
(Both) Holy Cross.
And the Earl of Warwick.
- (Squeaking) - An organ mender's son? So (Laughs ) .
.
they will crown apes at last! When will these arrogant fools stop battering their heads together? Opportunists and adventurers squabbling over a prize that has already been won.
I won it.
It is not realized that diplomacy has replaced brute force.
Power is politicians, not soldiery.
Powermay be using anything we can lay our hands on.
To be sure, when Almighty God called me to this high office, I never for a moment imagined that I should sit secure.
Not, that is, until every man in this realm was convinced of my right to its crown and acknowledged the privilege and power invested in me alone.
How long have men called me king? - Two years, your Grace.
- Yet we're still fighting for what we won then.
We will wage war forever! Till it dawns on Englishmen that Henry Tudor is their master and means to remain so.
Rebels.
One here, two there and the Earl of Kildare threatens a pretender? Well, he shall learn to his hurt that we are Lord of Ireland, too, and not an Oxfordshire peasant.
- What has your Grace in mind? - What? Brain-picking? What is in your mind? What is in the mind of Sir William Stanley? And Suffolk and Lincoln? Especially Lincoln.
It's time this administration, every man jack of it, stood up and was counted.
I can trust no one.
- A council.
- Yes, Fox, a council.
Here in this palace of Sheen.
Summon every lord, knight and gentleman who owes his bread to me.
If necessary, summon those who don't.
Summon especially the Earl of Lincoln.
Yes? Is my Lord of Lincoln not still loyal? Your Grace.
You will do nothing.
He is our devoted servant.
Thank you, my Lords.
I am doing my best to trust everyone.
(Low chatter) The Duchess Margaret left early to hunt, my Lord.
She has been told you're here.
I have waited too long.
Too long! Patience, my Lord.
I've brought good news from Dublin.
The Irish Lords.
Look.
Proclamations, even coins.
(Margaret) Why wasn't I informed? High and mighty Princess Margaret, Duchess of Burgundy.
Where is he? Oh, Francis! On your feet, friend.
I thought that Tudor pirate had you by the heels.
It was getting hard to find holes to hide in.
I can just see that face when he hears you're away, that thin mouth tight with fury.
He'll be gnashing his teeth now.
I hope he breaks some! Come.
I wish I could break his thin, Welsh head.
Well, the opportunity is about to present itself.
And not before time.
Tell me.
We have produced an heir to your brother's crown.
One Earl of Warwick? The Irish have come out for him.
Kildare, the Butlers, the Archbishop, all recognize him.
And England.
(Laughing) Oh, no.
It's bored with earls and princes.
England wants a king by right of blood, not by force of bloodshed.
And you think you've got one? Well, this boy.
Has he the features of my brother Edward that drove women mad and made every man follow him? Or King Richard's ferocity? Oh, you should have seen brother Richard in a rage.
I did.
Well, is he like? Mayne has seen him.
Have you, Lovell? No.
But the Irish are not fools.
Look.
Coins, minted at Dublin, with the boy's head and his device.
Now, why should the Irish Lords commit themselves so far if they are not convinced the lad is your nephew? My nephew.
Poor, stupid, George's son.
Edward Plantagenet.
I was certain that of all my father York's brood, I was the last in whom the blood ran true.
(Mayne ) No one knows for sure, madam.
Your ladyship understands these things and feels them.
I know that we have a boy who carries the name and all it lacks is men, arms and money.
Well, let it be so.
I have the means to give him a kingdom, but this boy will never have sufficient strength nor courage nor style to take command.
Who will lead you? A boy of 14, 15 years can never hope to order such a force as you hope to muster.
There are many captains who will join the standard.
Lead you, Master Mayne, in heaven's name, a leader! - Well, my Lord Lovell here.
- No.
No, I am not great enough.
But there is one.
You have another nephew, Duchess.
- Your sister's son.
- No.
But her son is alive.
To me he is not.
The Earl of Lincoln is my nephew but he is a minion of Henry Tudor's.
He's a traitor to me.
And for what cause? He might have had the throne of England for himself.
What bought his hopes? - Despair? - Cowardice and lethargy.
Yet he is the one who can make this insurrection good.
Lincoln must be roused.
There is blood in this.
Pride will not move him! Then ambition and ingratitude must.
I don't think it will be long before John de la Pole, Earl of Lincoln, is on our side.
- But who'll bring him round? - We have an ally who'll persuade him.
Who? Henry Tudor himself.
We are on the verge of bankruptcy! The exchequer is empty.
Are we expected to fill it? - We will defend it.
- Most generous! You'll fight blind for an empty treasury.
We're at Your Highness' disposal to fight.
For me, or against me? Er, look, nephew, if you prefer bullion to blood, I have little of the one and at my age, less of the other! (Laughter) Mother of God, we face a bloody insurrection! Do you think you'll laugh it out of the kingdom, or would you all rather crawl under the tyranny of the white rose, serve Irish savages and brigands? To be sure, there is no army nor fleet to keep our shores.
Raise the levies, commandeer ships.
And pay them with what? If your Grace pursued a friendly policy abroad in Europe, the city fathers would welcome the expanding trade and might then be forthcoming.
And the crown would never be out of pawn.
So be it, as long as it stays on your head.
(Suffolk) Where it rightfully belongs.
May I take your words, my Lord of Suffolk, as a token of your good faith? And do you speak for the whole country? Who is disloyal here, then? I wonder! Derby.
This way, my Lord.
I will announce you.
Don't bother.
They all know who I am.
Even if the King's Grace doesn't.
The Earl of Lincoln! So we see.
My Lord.
You're late.
I was delayed, your Grace.
The roads have never been worse.
If we could maintain the peace, we would mend them.
As we would mend your manners, Lincoln.
(Chuckling) However, you are welcome.
Take your place.
I was beginning to think you had business more important than mine.
- (Whispers ) - I'm not sure yet, Father.
Then have a care.
The King does not like secrets and you look as though you have secrets.
- My Lord of Suffolk.
- Your Highness.
This threat from Ireland.
We shall be ready for them when they choose to come.
So you said.
Easier said than done on an empty purse.
The country is loyal and will come when needed.
They proclaim an upstart title and many are convinced.
Pretenders and impostors are declared excommunicate.
But still they rally to this Lambert Simnel.
It seems that we too are dazzled by his audacity.
There is but one true Earl of Warwick.
If Simnel is not he, then who is? Where is the real one? - He is in good hands.
- Whose? (Henry ) Mine! The Earl has apartments in the Tower of London.
Where he will be safe, my Lord.
So, we do possess an Earl of Warwick.
Then let us see him, meet him.
That would create another center of dissention! On the contrary, Oxford - eliminate doubt, let him be seen and dispel the dissatisfaction.
- (Man shouting) - It would spike the rebels' guns.
And spike my Lord of Lincoln's guns too! - The Lady Elizabeth - Out of my way, you fool! Here, Dorset, follow me.
Madam Mother-in-law, you are disturbing us.
And you have disturbed me, son Henry! - My mother is distraught.
- Do be seated, my Lord.
Oh, yes! Do sit, do! Sit in judgment like so many Solomons but without his wit! (Henry ) Madam! What is the matter? You know well enough.
I guessthat the matter has been decided and agreed by our council.
You have our order.
There is nothing more for you to discuss here.
(Elizabeth) Then where if not here? (Dorset) We expect redress.
I was once the queen in this realm.
And these gentlemen, who had their life and liberty of me, are now persuaded that I must lose mine and you, son-in-law, subscribe to my close confinement! Our order specifies an honorable retirement to your convent home in Bermondsey.
Honorable retirement! (Laughs ) You've imprisoned me! (Dorset) It is not worthy, my Lords.
The dowager queen may not be aware of the imminent dangers facing the country.
- Disturbances of the gravest nature.
- They are nothing to do with me.
Nor will they be, madam, if you are with the good monks of Bermondsey - for your own safety.
- For my own safety? I know of others who are immured for their own safety, and where? That vile and bloody hole of hell, the Tower! You are not going to the Tower.
No, but you can see it from Bermondsey! My royal sons Or have you all forgotten? .
.
were sent to that place for their own safety.
My babies a blessed memory, they went to the Tower and they never came out, not even dead! That's enough, woman! You have played, madam, and lost, in the royal game and you have no stake to bid further.
You have sons born when you were common.
Marquis Dorset there is one.
There is no royalty in him but he is your son.
Get comfort if you can from him.
It is our wish that you go to your convent home in Bermondsey as we decreed.
Marquis Dorset, conduct your mother to her barge.
Good day, madam.
Crowns are dear in England, son-in-law.
But heads are cheap that wear them.
She may be the Queen's mother but she's an intolerable woman.
(Laughter) I wonder, has Edward Earl of Warwick suffered the fate of that lady's bastards? Lincoln! We were discussing the Earl of Warwick, weren't we? Your Highness, I must apologize for my son.
My Lord of Lincoln.
Too many people are under the impression that we have been overzealous in disposing of our enemies.
Though I'm thinking that in some cases we have been too lenient.
However, if you think that the Earl of Warwick has been destroyed - this Irish impersonation appears to be based on that assumption - then you must be made to change your mind.
It seems a wise course, as well as an expedient one, to produce the Earl and set all minds at rest.
We are able to do so.
The convocation of our Holy Church convenes next month at St.
Paul's.
If it please your Grace, the person of the Earl of Warwick may attend a session or two.
It does please us.
Let it be recorded that Edward Plantagenet, known as the Earl of Warwick, shall be present at Paul's and there shown to the people.
Publish it, and let's have no more impostors.
Or thoughts of impostors.
(Low chatter) - Well? - Simmons has made his statement.
- Himself? - He read his confession.
- In full? - Loudly and clearly.
- And? - The lords shuffled a bit, the Lord Mayor was satisfied and the citizens of London were delighted.
And grateful, I hope, for the experience.
Bring forth Master Simmons and let him face the Earl of Warwick.
We will wait.
Lambert! Oh Oh, they have you too? Oh, you look splendid, Lambert, in your finery.
This, Master Simmons, is the Earl of Warwick, whom you would supplant.
Really? Greet the Earl of Warwick.
Oh, they've done us proudly.
You look well, Lambert.
Very well.
My name's Edward.
Who are you? (Whispers ) Very good.
Keep it up.
And when we have done, I am your Archbishop of Canterbury.
You promised.
When they have kinged you, don't forget your friend Simmons.
Lambert, don't forget.
- Enough.
- Turn him loose and let him go.
Who was that and what does he mean? Lambert? - A fool.
- And a failure, Prince.
Don't bother your head with him.
Come, you must be presented to your peers.
My Lord of Derby, lead on.
Edward, Earl of Warwick.
(Organ plays ) - I'll take my oath on it.
- Oh, he's Clarence's son all right.
No doubt about it.
I hardly knew the Earl of Warwick.
This one certainly has an air about him.
True, of vacuous stupidity.
My Lords, not surprising considering he comes of York stock.
The priest's confession was convincing enough.
It was wrung out of him.
The King would never touch an anointed priest.
No, Father, but Morton would.
- What's the matter with him? - Something is gnawing at my son's brain.
I pray God for your sake, my Lord Suffolk, it be not the canker of treachery.
- Cousin, you have a fine white horse.
- A gelding, yes.
I remember.
Bring him to the Tower that I may ride him.
There's very little room in that place for riding and he doesn't like to be confined.
I don't either.
Neither I think does my Lord of Lincoln.
We'll, think about it, little cousin.
See you do, cousin, see you do.
Satisfied with him, my Lord? - Most authentic, a splendid performance.
- Good.
- Sir Thomas.
- The same, my Lord.
- Where are my horses? - At the inn as arranged.
- Swan will take you there.
- Wait for us in Lancashire, Broughton.
- Without fail.
When you are good and ready.
- We'll be that.
Cousin, can I ask you? You knew my uncle of Gloucester well.
King Richard was my friend and my patron, yes.
Was he the devil? Everyone says so.
I believe him to be the devil.
Was he? Begging your Lordship's pardon.
For my Lord of Lincoln.
It is urgent, my Lord.
You will excuse me, my Lords, I must go.
It is the King's business.
I'd swear there was nothing on that paper.
Mother of God, we have been too mild! He's gone! The Earl of Lincoln has betrayed us and we shall see to it that he feels our pain.
And any of you proud men with gall enough to try your strength against mine shall see how we stomach treason! Dear heaven! If a beast you'd have me, then a beast I'll be! Why? Why? - He missed his best prospects.
- He had none.
- He had ambitions.
- Which of you has not? - You're all stiff with them.
- His were thwarted.
He had our trust and goodwill.
Evidently that wasn't enough for him.
The Earl of Lincoln priced his allegiance higher than we thought by aligning himself with the Simnel conspiracy, for that is surely what he has done.
He now demands his payment and with interest.
He should have suffered the full rigor of the law after Bosworth.
He was a bad risk! We all knew it.
- Your Grace knew it.
- It's not my way, Uncle.
If it possible for a man to submit to another's rule, he must be given the opportunity to do so.
Holy Mother, if I destroyed every man I did not trust, who feared to see me King, there'd be nobody left to rule.
Let him be.
Well? Your Highness, I can find no trace of my son.
His people have reported nothing, his departure was obviously well planned.
We did not expect to see you again either, Suffolk.
I am your Grace's man.
I gave my oath at your crowning.
I am shamed enough by what my son has done.
You abuse me the more if you think me disloyal too.
Well, well.
Your Grace.
What, then, is to be done? Prepare to levy war.
Those malcontents and rebels we are certain of must be arrested, and the full punishment for treason meted out to them.
No, we then drive those we are not sure of into the rebels' camp.
No, no, no.
We will proclaim a full pardon for all offences, even that of high treason, to those who submit themselves now.
- A pardon? - It's madness! We are not strong enough to punish them.
But if we can't effect outright action we can at least detach the waverers from Lincoln's side.
Where is that wretched man? Presenting his credentials to the player king.
- Not to Ireland yet.
- His aunt in Flanders, more like.
Yes, that termagant.
She'd sell her shriveled soul to see me hanged.
In that case she'll move heaven and earth to ensure that the Earl has an army large enough to invade us.
And soon.
Now then, if this host is to come on us, as we think, from Flanders, we must look to our defenses in the east.
Lord Derby, issue our Commission of Array to the eastern counties.
And in spite of the pardon, more traitors follow Lincoln into Flanders.
Then those forces keeping the invaders out must keep the rebels from leaving.
Warwick must be helped out of the Tower again.
Show him to the people.
A public mass through St.
Paul's? Something like that.
Uncle, see that the beacons along the coast are kept in constant repair and ready for us.
Your Highness.
We are busy.
I'm badly used, your Grace, and I'm quite innocent.
What does the idiot want? His Grace is in council, Lord Dorset.
I know, discussing me.
There is no truth in all these rumors.
I have done nothing.
What cause have I to offend the King? None have I? Tell me.
You're offending him now.
Slander says I'm about to ruin the King, bring down his government.
- And are you, Dorset? - I? Oh, I'd sooner ruin myself.
Perhaps you have, as there seems to be some doubt.
Perhaps you'd better make sure in the Tower.
Take him away.
No! Not to the Tower! You'll be safe from slander there, Dorset, and I will know where to find you when rumor makes up its mind.
- Oxford, he's your charge.
See to it.
- As you please, my Lord.
You will answer for this at Judgment Day, Lord King.
The Queen my mother you shamed with prison and for being my mother's son You have no cause to love us.
I am your Grace's brother! In law.
All the more reason why you should be under lock and key.
- Get out! - No! Not to the Tower! I'm innocent! Imbecile.
Derby, those Commissions are to be published immediately.
Fox, make order for the court to move.
I'll go into East Anglia myself - that is imperative.
And let us pray to God and His Holy Mother that the Irish keep King Lambert in Dublin, at least until matters are sorted out in Flanders.
Item, a cart of John Ferret.
Item two, bill hooks and sundry parts of mail armor of Martin Coton.
Item, a yoke of oxen and a short sword of Hugh Whitney.
- That appears to be all for now.
- A creditable list.
The men of Berkshire will give Henry Tudor reason enough to remember us.
I thank you, Brother.
Simmons.
I never thought we'd see you again.
- They let me go.
- Why? I came here Where else was I to go? - Alone? - Yes.
You're sure you weren't followed? I didn't look behind.
Now, what do they know? What did you tell them? Hm? Everything.
Oh, dear God in heaven.
My nails, Father Abbot.
Where are they? My fingernails! Oh, it was no great matter to me.
They have our boy, Lambert.
They've dressed him up and made him into a prince.
Oh, he looked splendid.
It would have been martyrdom to have died then and there, seeing how fine he looked.
No, Simmons.
Dear, good Simmons, that was not the truth you saw, that was some play-actor they gave you, a dressed-up nobody to betray you and us.
It'll be the end of us.
Brother Simmons, you must rest with the Brothers.
You can't stay here long.
As soon as you are well, you must leave.
You'd like to see the Earl of Warwick again? I saw him.
In Ireland, Simmons, for that's where he is.
Yes, the Prince is safe in Dublin.
As soon as may be, you will travel there.
Be with him, be his mentor, as you were.
You'll not fail him.
He needs you.
These are my notes of hand for the merchants of Bruges.
And these are bills of exchange for those in Amsterdam.
Ah, yes.
Two thousand German mercenaries, which I will pay for under one Martin Schwartz.
The jewels will be assayed and you shall have an inventory.
- I'd prefer cash.
- You shall have that too.
I am glad you speak plain at last.
You have pondered long enough.
I fled England, I'm here.
You saw a boy at London, at Paul's.
He was named the Earl of Warwick.
If that boy now lodged in the Tower is my nephew Oh, there's no question, I saw him.
Then why have you come out for the other in Ireland? On a crooked road, a fit ass is better than a sick horse.
Oh.
You'll not mind how you ride, then.
It'll bear me well enough.
Common consent is cause and power enough.
The general belief is that Warwick is in Ireland and that's where our success lies, not with another, languishing in the Tower.
And after, when that boy in Ireland has served your turn? Served my turn? I will make him King Edward at Westminster.
I don't see it's in your interest to pull one master down to set up another.
- I protest, madam, my interest - No, no, don't.
You're right.
A false claim in time will fall away of itself.
This is your chance, John.
You're Richard's heir, so be it.
Take the heritage you missed before by what means you will.
A way is open for you to assume the crown of England.
Take it.
It makes no difference to me.
All I ask is that you topple this Tudor upstart.
Destroy him! Send me his head if you like.
You have the spirit of a man but the malice of a woman.
And the hopes of both.
And fear.
Fear for that child in the Tower.
Perhaps he's a player king too, but if he's of my blood his life will not be worth a fig.
The Tower is the quickest way out of this world I know.
God help him.
I've never been in this room before, you know.
What's usually served here? It was nice to go out, and for a whole week.
I'd not been out of the Tower for so long.
Quite a long time, really, for me.
I saw the great Earl of Lincoln, though.
He has a fine white horse.
He's promised to bring it here to the Tower for me to ride.
It'll make a change from hunting rats, riding on Lincoln's horse.
You're to follow me.
This isn't my chamber! I don't live here! (Door slams ) I'm the Earl of Warwick! Let me out! I'm the Earl of Warwick! Let me out! Let me out! Let me out!