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Reatures. My reach is England and Scotland combined, however. How many children would you bear me? A Queen should not die old. I remember in her prime, when she sank a Spanish fleet, claimed the vast continent, unfold our flag throughout the world. You will remember these feeble years, A drooling of the mouth and the stench of urine. A queen should not die old. Between the death of Elizabeth and the coronation of James, England will be leaderless. That is no time to allow Catholics and traitors to run free, plotting violence and insurrection. You will arrest each Catholic on your list. I myself will arrest their chief culprit, Robert Catesby. Our faith years old, how dare they replace it with a faith that was born, invented, invented; to help a king dump a wife and marry a mistress. If you ask a Catholic to choose between his king and Pope who sits in Rome, he will choose the Pope who sits in Rome. Catholics are traitors. My parents. my wife and my child all die in this faith safe in the knowledge that adhering to this faith, this one true Catholic faith will lead souls to heaven, and one day, praise God, I will join them there. You wish to speak, Robert Catesby? You wish to speak Robert Catesby? The penalty, for hearing a Catholic Mass, is a substantial fine, for all those in attendance, and the death by hanging, drawing and quartering, of the Catholic priest. May God have mercy on his evil Catholic soul. Take Robert Catesby away. Thomas! Robert! Leave him! Leave him! Go to King James of Scotland If he is to be the next King of England, all this must cease. All of this must cease! This, cannot go on! King James of Scotland is the son of a Catholic queen! A Catholic martyr! His will grant us tolerance! I speak from heart. Gentleman. Approach me and you will be slain. Your Majesty. You are Thomas Percy? I am, Your Majesty. And you have news from England? Elizabeth Queen of England is dying, Your Majesty. She’s been dying since that child was conceived. She will soon be dead, Your Majesty, truly. Truly? Truly. Well that is sad news indeed. Indeed. Give this man three of our best horses. I have further news Your Majesty. Speak it. I fear this news will incur your wrath. Speak it, man. There is a rival claimant to the throne, Your Majesty Princess Isabella A Catholic. I have no rival claimant Radio . for I am no claimant. I am the next King of England, and no human being, no mere mortal will stand in my way else I will show them what “mere mortal” means. I will put them to the sword. I will have his head. He is a Catholic. Cut off his head? What message would that send to the Catholics of England? To hell with them. They will take up arms. And I will destroy them. And what if you fail? And should you succeed you would rule forever a divided kingdom. You have waited for blood to take the crown of England, now it is within your grasp, do not let it slip for the lack of words. Mere words. Promise this man all he wants. He will think me weak. He will think you merciful. Tell him all he wishes to hear. I will tell him everything that he wishes to hear. Leave us. Leave us! What do you want? An end to the persecution of Catholics, Your Majesty. Really. And in return? All Catholics will hail you as their King. I am a King, Thomas Percy. A king does not succumb to threats. A person who threatens a King must die. So be it. A noble, heroic man. That is for others to say, Your Majesty. I say it. Then I thank you. Have you no thought, Thomas Percy, for those less noble, less heroic? We have twisted limb, and cowardly halved an evil soul have we not endured enough? Must we look upon people such as thee and suffer even more in that comparison? So what would you sacrifice, for your faith? I would give my life, Your Majesty. Sacrifice, ones life for ones faith, means you go straight to heaven. I see your courage in that. But your honor, would you sacrifice your honor, for your faith? No, for to sacrifice my honor in this way, is to sin against my faith, Your Majesty. Sacrifice your honor to me and I will grant you all that you wish. Oh, I see that look of disgust in your eye. I know it well, I see it in the eyes of my good wife, my eldest child, it is a look no man can disguise. Honest and true, and I have grown so very, very fond of it. Why don’t you strike me? Why don’t you strike me? Is it because I am a King, to strike me is to die? Is it cowardice? Do you suffer this for your faith Radio for an end of the persecution of all that share your faith? If that is so Thomas Percy, why stop at this? Why have half a hog, when we can have whole? Regina died! Long live The King! Long live King James VI of Scotland and the first England! Out! Out! Queen Elizabeth is dead. We must ride to England. My Lord, we cannot ride before the funeral. The soul of England must not lie on thee. We must wait. We wait for men to make us the finest carriage the world has ever seen. It will be drawn by horses from Arabia. We wear expensive gowns from France. For this one moment I’ve endured pain, and humiliation and I warn you my dear repulsive husband, we will enter London as a great King and Queen, not as Scottish beggars. You have Catholics custody Lord Cecil, release them. Is that wise Your Majesty? Do not the people love me? Is there a man in England who wishes me harm? No, Your Majesty. Therefor release the Catholics. There will be persecuted no more To decide such a thing so early in your reign, Your Majesty, is rash Release them! As Your Majesty wishes. Robert. What say The King? He has promised us tolerance. Tom, good to see you. Francis. And if he breaks his promise? Then I will kill with my bare hands. Not long now, Majesty. Just a little. We are impoverished. Yes, Your Majesty. I am a king, who lacks the money, to act as a king. We fight a war with Spain, Your Majesty. And Elizabeth’s funeral was also costly. When you lavished money upon the old Queen’s funeral, did you not have not think about the new King’s coronation? She was much loved, Your Majesty. Were Elizabeth had horses to pull her coffin, I will have to pull my carriage. Where she had thousands at her funeral,