Anne of the Thousand Days

[galloping hooves]

[man gees up horse]

[baaing]

[bell tolls]

- What is the verdict?

- Guilty, Your Grace.

All of them?

Guilty.

Farewell, farewell

My pleasure past

Welcome my present pain

Welcome the torment in my heart

To see my love again

Warrant for the execution of

Sir Henry Norris for adultery with Anne,

Queen of England.

For the execution of Mark Smeaton

for the treason of adultery with Anne,

Queen of England.

To the Lieutenant Governor of the Tower

of London a warrant for the execution...

...of Anne, Queen of England.

For adultery and treason.

To be burned or beheaded

at the King's pleasure.

Anne, Queen of England.

My wife.

My wife, Oromwell.

She has borne you a useless daughter

and a dead son.

When we married she promised me a son.

I must have a son to rule

when I am dead.

God guided the conscience

and answered prayers of the King.

- He will not let you condemn unjustly.

- Then why do I hesitate?

Is the hesitation from God?

Or is He telling me you must die, you

who found evidence and arranged trial?

I care only that the King rules

absolutely.

The Queen despised her marriage

and indulged her carnal lust.

Betrayed me?

Did she, Oromwell? Did she?

Your Grace, the Queen betrayed you

and stands condemned.

The warrant is before you.

If she betrayed me, she must die.

If I am to rule, keep my sanity,

and hold England off the rocks,

and as you say, God would not

allow me to condemn unjustly.

If I question that, I question

my whole life and all I've done.

At times, I do question it.

Write it down.

Write down Henry Rex and it's done.

I've condemned men before,

nobles and peasants, why not a queen?

She struck down a few herself

or driven me to do it for her.

It's only...

It's only that when you've

held a woman in your arms

and longed for her when she's away,

suffered with her

and waited with her

for the outcome of the child bed...

You promised me a son.

Anne.

Anne!

[jaunty music, chattering]

She's new.

Boleyn's youngest daughter.

Newly returned from the French court.

Do you like her, Kate?

Shall we keep her here at court

to cheer you?

Whatever you command, My Lord.

And suppose I command you

to give me a son?

- Would to God I could, Henry.

- Amen.

But you cannot, because our marriage

is accursed in heaven and hell, madam.

[music stops]

Play on. Play on.

The Queen wishes it and I command it.

Play!

When I call for it,

tell the musicians to play my galliard.

And see to it, More,

that there is no argument.

My Lord Bishop.

Your Majesty.

- If it please Your Grace...

- No politics, Wolsey.

Go and commune with the devil

while I dance.

No, just a simple domestic matter.

A wedding.

Any man who marries

when he can be free is a fool.

Here. Here is the couple.

Young Percy, Northumberland's son.

He's a member of my household.

And Anne Boleyn.

Their parents agreed.

Have they your permission to marry?

- I've told them...

- No.

- "No," did Your Grace say?

- No.

- But it is a love match.

- Un-match them, Wolsey, unmatch them.

And send the Boleyns, father,

mother, son and eldest daughter,

back to their castle in Kent,

and send Anne with them tonight.

Yes, sir.

I'm bored, Wolsey.

I'm bored with the court.

Bored with my Spanish cow.

I shall go hunting

in the beautiful country of Kent.

- Your Grace.

- No ceremony.

I have a mind to put you all to shame.

You're short of breath.

- A misspent life, sir.

- No doubt.

Brereton, you keep time like a deaf man.

- Your Grace has learned my secret.

- Norfolk, sit by the fire at your age.

- Better to lie by it, Your Grace.

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