Carom Shots (Carambolages)

Ripped By mstoll

Wolsey, you're out!

My Lords Norfolk and Suffolk.

Cardinal Wolsey, you're dismissed as Lord Chancellor.

By the King's orders, you are to return to us the Great Seal.

You will have supper?

You want it all to rule yourself, don't you?

And have the lords, like school boys, creeping in here.

Well, I am here now.

And I will chew you up,

bones, flesh and gristle.

You're to hand over the Great Seal.

Ah.

Apparently, a written request from the King is necessary.

Do you have one? No?

Oh, that's careless.

My lawyer, Thomas Cromwell.

You want us to ride back to Windsor for a piece of paper?

In this weather?

Ah, I see, yes.

Actually, my lawyer tells me I can't give you the Seal,

written request or no.

He tells me that, properly speaking,

I should hand it only to the Master of the Rolls.

So, you better come back with him.

I'm obliged, Master.

Did you know that or did you make it up?

They'll be back in a day.

Oh, these days, 24 hours feels like a victory.

Do we have refreshments for our guests?

Served on what? They've taken the plate.

What's this?

It's borrowed. They've confiscated my wardrobe.

And you know how I feel the cold.

Thank you, Peter.

This is to be Anne Boleyn's, I think.

The King wants her to have a London residence.

This palace belongs to the Archdiocese of York.

When did Lady Anne become an archbishop?

Now, now, Thomas, everything I have, I have from the King.

If he wants to take York Place fully furnished,

then I'm sure we'll find some other roof to shelter under.

He's expecting to find a wax figure of himself,

with a pin stuck through it.

Come and see me.

Why, My Lord?

When?

When you've mended your manners.

What it is to serve a prince.

The gentlest, wisest prince in Christendom.

I'll not hear a word against Henry from any man.

Don't you think it's something about the English?

They cannot see a great man set up, but they have to pull him down.

It's not the English,

it's just people.

We brought the Lady Anne back from France to marry into Ireland.

Now, I hear she danced at the court masked with young Harry Percy.

Connived in dark corners with him.

And I won 't have that.

Your Grace can't think that I'm party...

Oh, Sir Thomas Boleyn, you'd be amazed at what I can think.

Anne knows things can't proceed with young Harry Percy.

But he believes he's free to choose his own wife.

Free to choose his own...

He's not some ploughboy!

He's the man who'll have to hold the north for us someday.

The Percy family comprise the noblest in the land,

whereas the Boleyns were once in what? In trade, weren't you?

Who is that?

Who's that?

Oh, it's Stephen Gardiner, my secretary.

Send him out.

Stephen.

And who is that?

Oh, never mind who that is. He's nobody.

The problem is, my daughter and Harry Percy...

I think they may have gone a little far in the matter.

It seems they've pledged themselves before witnesses.

Well, you can forget all talk of pledges and witnesses.

Now, get his father down from the borders.

And if the prodigal defies his father,

he'll be tossed out of his heirdom on his prodigal snout.

Now, get your daughter married into Ireland

before her intended hears any rumours of spoiled goods.

Finished, My Lord Cardinal?

Finished.

Butcher's boy.

Butcher's dog!

Come out, dog!

He's talking to you.

So, Master Cromwell,

William Popely tells me I might find a use for you.

A man of many talents, he says.

A remarkable memory.

It's a technique, My Lord. I learned it in Italy.

How long were you abroad?

Twelve yea rs.

Where are you from?

Putney, left when I was boy.

- Your father? -Blacksmith.

Ah, at last!

A man born in a more lowly state than myself.

There, there.

- Hello. -Eaten?

Mmm-hmm.

- Wine? -Oh, why not?

Hey, hey, hey.

I'm going to work for him, the Cardinal.

You know what they say in Italy?

- You have to pick your prince. -Doing what?

Whatever he wants.

We have enough.

I don't want to spend my life dealing in conveyances, Liz.

Whether this man's fence should be here or here.

You know what you're doing, I suppose.

At least you always look as if you do.

Yeah, I do, don't I?

You're sweeter to look at than the Cardinal.

That's the smallest compliment a woman ever received.

What does our son say?

He hopes you are well, hopes I am well.

Hopes his lovely little sisters Anne and Grace are well.

He is well.

"And now, no more for lack of time. Your dutiful son, Gregory."

Terrible Latin.

Anne is the better scholar.

Anne, go and get your breakfast.

After I have Latin, I'd like to learn Greek.

Gregory has hardly any Greek.

What, what will London be like when that one's the Lord Mayor?

From Germany.

Came packaged as something else. I almost sent the boy away.

- If you want to know... -I don't want to know.

It's Tyndale's New Testament, Liz.

You should read it for yourself.

It's in English, that's the point.

Not Latin. How can that be heresy?

Read it and you'll see how you're misled.

No mention of nuns, monks, relics. No mention of popes.

My prayer book's good reading for me.

Your prayer book.

Grace, look at this.

Hey, hey, hey.

Rafe?

Richard?

Oh...

- Late. - Me or your good self?

- You. He's waiting. -The boatmen were drunk.

I'm surprised you didn't take an oar yourself.

You grew up at the river, didn't you?

God bless you.

Thanks.

Ah, well, the King sent for me this morning,

exceptionally early.

What did he want?

Pity.

A son.

The King wants a son. Eighteen years of marriage with no heir.

Now, he's decided some sin must have been committed to cause this curse.

God, where did you learn this?

At the docks, little after I left home.

Earned a living from it for a while.

Everyone thought they could beat a child.

What else should I know about you, monstrous servant?

Once, in Italy, I held a snake for a bet.

Was it poisonous?

We didn't know. That was the point of the bet.

The sin?

Oh, yes, the sin.

I remember when they brought the Queen over from Spain

to marry Henry's brother Prince Arthur.

Sixteen, barely a word of English.

But when she danced,

her red hair slid over her shoulder...

God forgive you.

God forgive us all.

Ah, then, Arthur dies.

Henry decides he'll have his brother's widow for himself.

Katherine declares that she is still a virgin,

poor Arthur never having touched her.

Rome issues the dispensation and any doubts anyone has.

-But now?

Oh, now the Queen can't give the King a son.

So, now.

the Queen must not have been a virgin after all.

Henry says that he has lived all these years in an unlawful marriage,

hence the sin.

So, it's back to Rome for an annulment.

Oh, she's blaming me, of course, Katherine.

She can't blame the King, so it's all my doing.

No matter that I've begged him not to proceed.

When she defeated the Scots, I heard she wanted to send

the Scottish King's head in a bag to Henry, to cheer him up.

What?

Well, she's a fighter.

Well.

Perhaps you should teach me your three card trick, hmm?

In case we both end up on the streets.

Unpack everything. Masters, I want kindling, dry kindling.

Get the fires lit. Stephen, find the kitchen.