The Private Life of Henry VIII. Page #3

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Sweet little onel

[Man] Send a fast horseman for the king

and riders everywhere with the news.

[Baby Crying]

[Horns. I Fanfare]

[Men Calling]

[Calling Continues]

Hello, hello, hello, hello!

Hello, hello!

Good bird!

[Calling Resumes]

She's got him!

She's got him for a ducat.

[Man Calls]

- What do you want?

- Your Majesty, it's a boy.

What?

It's a boy!

Men, it's a boy!

[Cheering]

[Horns. I Fanfare]

[Fades]

[Man Muttering]

Where's the boy?

- Is he dead?

- The prince is alive, Your Majesty...

but the queen is dead.

Poor pretty little Jane.

God rest her sweet soul.

Where's the prince?

[Humming]

Shh!

My son.

[Chuckles]

One day you'll rule England.

[Laughs]

A greater England than mine.

That is, if you're strong enough

to hold the scepter firmly.

See, here it is.

[Laughing]

Bravely done, my little prince.

That's the way of it!

[Laughing]

Now, through tears and cruelty and pain

you came into the world...

and by the same road

you'll reach the throne...

and by the same road

hold it.

[Chuckling]

You smile, do you?

Well, smile while you may.

You'll find the throne of England

no smiling matter.

Mmm. Now.

Look at him, the little love.

Taking it all in,

as if he were a full-grown Christian.

Just the image of you

when you were a baby.

- Is he?

- Yes. Poor little lamb.

Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no. Get off.

Get off with you and your nonsense.

Your great big beard

in the poor child's face.

Enough to frighten him out of his wits.

Be off with you. Be off with you!

[Humming]

[Chattering]

[Excited Chattering]

- Oh!

- Oh! Look at your baby. Isn't he a love?

- His father's image.

- His eyes too.

- And his hands.

- And his deep chest too.

- And the same legs.

- And the same...

- Eh, madam, not before the child.

- [All Laughing]

- You think he will marry again?

- Who?

- The king.

- Let's hope not.

Three failures should convince him

he has no gift for the business.

No, it was the wives' fault.

The right woman could still make him happy.

Every woman thinks herself the right wife

for every other woman's husband.

And he might choose

a lady of the court.

He has chosen many for a day,

or at most a week.

Lady Bassett's the miracle. She's lasted

1 0 whole days. He's still not weary.

Then he might...

might marry her then.

- What, Lady Bassett?

- Yes.

Oh, my good Kate.

[Laughing]

- [Excited Chattering]

- [Henry Laughing]

The pretty thing. To bring the child

out hatless in the sun.

Come to me, my love.

Love you.

Hmm! Have you lost your wits

to treat him so?

- I never thought, um...

- You never thought?

What are brains for,

except to think?

No, no, no. You must strut about

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