Elizabeth I

---

All is as

it should be, ma'am.

Thank you, Dr. Lopez.

Her Majesty is still capable

of bearing children.

Ahh...

Virgo intacta.

Thank you,

Dr. Lopez.

So we may proceed

with her marriage.

If we're to trust

her doctor.

If she were too old

to bear children, my lord,

there will be little sense

in her marrying.

Do we only marry

to bear children?

To contemplate the prospect

of an heir, certainly.

Is there

another reason

we should not approach

the Duke of Anjou?

Politics,

religion,

temperament.

Messenger!

Ah...

and of course

the Earl of Leicester.

Francis Walsingham.

My Lord Burghley.

Married men both,

and peddlers of the matrimonial state.

You should wed each other since you

think so highly of the condition.

Certainly speed up the process

of government.

The Earl of Leicester

has the familiar touch.

If we are to make an alliance

against Spain,

Anjou would seem

the obvious choice:

Brother to

the King of France,

and giving us

a Catholic ally.

Where do you stand

on the issue, Francis?

I think the French make better

acquaintances than friends.

Tell Anjou we still need

the Queen's permission

to start

negotiations.

Thank you, my lord.

Oh...!

Your Majesty.

What's the news,

old friend?

That I am as I

have always been.

Oh, well am I

changed then?

- There is talk of...

- Talk...

talk is free.

And I would be so, too.

No no no,

be not afraid...

I will not marry.

So...

we have each other

still then?

We have each other

always, Robin,

since that way

our affections tend.

Who can tell the heart

where it should lead us?

Our hearts

cannot be told.

Time has worn away the promises

we made to each other once.

What promises,

my lord?

To amuse each other.

Your Majesty, l...

I do not trust

the Duke d'Anjou.

Because he's

a Frenchman?

Because I do not trust him to love you

as you should be loved.

- I'm afraid, Bess.

- Of what?

Of the dangers

in bearing a child.

The danger to you.

What is the world

without you in it, hmm?

- Oh, this is most flattering.

- How?

Because you are

jealous.

And why

should I not be?

Do I not live in the sun

of your favor?

And does not the world

condemn me for it?

For 19 years,

Your Majesty,

this Council

has implored you

to secure your succession

by marriage.

You have refused

all suitors, but now...

I do not say I will not marry,

Lord Burghley,

the question

before us is whom.

Spain is

the threat.

Our only hope is to divide

the Catholic powers.

- Put Spain against France.

- Oh God.

A union with the ruling house of France

would do precisely that.

Anjou, as brother

to the King of France...

Might I remind

the Council...

that although

he may oppose

the Spanish interests

in the Netherlands,

the Duke of Anjou

is still a Catholic.

But he is of the quiet kind,

my lord.

Biddable, they say.

He will pray in a corner, if you ask him.

He was a friend to the Protestant cause

in France.

He's has even had private conversation

with Master Walsingham

who eats Catholics.

...words with you

in the Presence Chamber.

My Parliament

seeks words with us,

and we must

seem to listen.

Francis?

Since you

of all of us

has met this

fellow Anjou...

what of him?

His religion, madam,

his politics,

his sincerity

or otherwise

in his support

of the Dutch Protestants?

His appearance,

Master Secretary...

is he a man

to my liking?

I couldn't say,

Your Majesty.

Well, is he well-favored

or is he ugly?

Is he a master

at serving women?

He is Catholic.

He only serves the Pope.

He was not ugly,

madam...

but...

he was not

beautiful.

Oh...!

Well, gentlemen,

I have come to hear you talk

and I trust you will watch me

while I listen.

Your Majesty.

We beg to raise the question

of your marriage.

Well, so long as you

do not come to me

to complain about your wives,

I am content.

Sir Leicester...

here stands my master of music

who wrote this very piece for me.

A Catholic,

but an Englishman first.

Thank you so much

for the anthem.

You see, a man may be a good Catholic,

and a good Englishman.

Not at the same time,

ma'am.

Get him up.

Take him away.

You're quite safe,

ma'am.

Oh Robin.

Quite safe, ma'am.

No hurt, ma'am.

Shh... no hurt, ma'am.

Clear the way!

Clear the way!

- Oh God.

- Your Majesty, take my arm.

- How did he get in? Who is he?

- Calm yourself.

Oh!

And how does

Your Majesty now?

The Queen does not know

how she does, Leicester.

How she does and what she

feels seems questions of little account.

She sometimes wonders whether she

is allowed the luxury of feeling anything.

That villain was as close

as you are now to me.

No one could be

as close as we two, Bess.

You mustn't be

alone tonight.

- No.

- No.

Nor shall I, my lord.

Our prisons in the tower were as close

as our two apartments are now.

Sweet imprisonment.

In your sister Mary's reign

when I was in the tower,

and looking to die every day,

I remember the morning they brought you

in through the Traitor's Gate.

Over your shoes in water

as you stepped off the barge.

I sat down on the stone steps

and refused to move.

My usher broke down and cried.

I rated him severely.

"Truth is what matters,

not misfortune."

That's what I said.

And that none of your friends

should ever have cause to weep for you.

No. Nor shall they,

Leicester.

Some things still

are possible.

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