:30:04
Bacon. Wine. Quickly.
:30:21
Chair.
:30:28
Allow me, Your Majesty.
:30:34
- Pardon, Majesty.
- Never mind that. What is the news?
:30:39
We have been annihilated
in Ireland, Your Grace.
:30:41
Tyrone surprised us.
Sir William Baganold is dead.
:30:45
Every company, troop, arms,
stores, everything, utterly destroyed.
:30:52
Wars, death, famine
in that unhappy land.
:30:57
And for what?
:30:59
A few miserable acres
of fever-smitten bog...
:31:03
...and handfuls of tattered peasants
whose only desire is to be left in peace...
:31:07
...to cut each other's throats.
:31:10
Well, they may.
:31:11
I'll put an end to it.
:31:13
Not another man goes to Ireland.
:31:16
And let Philip of Spain use it as a base?
He's not forgotten Cádiz, remember.
:31:20
And whoever holds Ireland
points a dagger at the heart of England.
:31:24
I suppose you're right,
but I'm sick of this bloodshed.
:31:28
My policy has always been peace...
:31:30
...and this war was forced upon me.
:31:33
And Ireland...
:31:40
Get a physician.
:31:41
- Give him the best of food and lodging.
- Yes, Your Majesty.
:31:48
One moment.
:31:50
What of Sir Peter Finchley?
:31:54
- Is he dead too?
- Yes, Your Majesty. He was struck down.
:31:59
My thanks to you.