World Without End s01e06 Episode Script

- Previously - Kingsbridge belongs to the Priory.
Not the convent.
Godwyn? What are you doing here? - Marilyn left the money specifically to the convent.
- Do you have that in writing? Wait.
You met the King.
I want you to go to him in France, get an order from him.
If I'm still King after tomorrow, I will grant your petition.
For England! Sisters! Welcome home! Safely returned.
It's good to be back, Mother.
We have been praying for you.
Come.
What news? We found the King and we found war.
- I can only imagine - I pray that you can't.
It was worse than anything that my mind could conjure.
God is testing us all, it seems.
Whilst you were away, Prior Godwyn has begun work on his palace.
With our gold? With our gold, yes.
Then our journey wasn't without purpose: This will stop him.
It's a mere scribble on the back of an old map.
Hastily written on the battlefield.
It orders you to return our stolen money so that we can build our hospice.
I don't see the Royal Seal.
That's because it's kept in England.
If you doubt its authenticity, the King will give his word.
In person? Even if it is authentic, which I doubt very much, he won't come to Kingsbridge to enforce it.
Oh, but he suggested that he will.
You would lose your position, cousin, and with any luck, your head.
He's a king.
And you're a nun.
What could you have possibly done to make him give you this? Thank you, Sister Caris.
That was war.
Men killing each other for power or land.
Not only each other women, children, animals.
I can't even pretend to believe anymore.
In what? I used to have doubts about God's presence in this world, and now I know for sure that He's not among us.
You still need rest.
- This will pass.
- No, it will never pass.
Yah! Congratulations, Sir Ralph.
.
The King rewards criminals well.
The King shows gratitude for loyalty and courage, Sir Roland.
- By making some of us peers.
- What? By restoring your property at Wigleigh? It is but a fraction the size of my sovereignty.
He's also bestowed upon me the Tench estate.
A property nearly as extensive as Shiring's.
The Earldom of Tench? Yes.
Sorry we're late.
Odila insisted that we Lady Philippa.
It's been some long while.
Yes.
You've not changed.
- Is this your daughter? - Yes.
- I'm Lord Ralph.
- What's your name? - Odila.
Odila.
Come along, Odila.
Your nurse is waiting for us.
The orange in your dress was pulled from mine.
- Do you like it? - Yes.
Lady Philippa? May I have a word? Go, I'll catch up.
What do you want, Sir Ralph? I want your hand in marriage.
I've been waiting for this moment for such a long time, ever since I saw you that day in the market as a young man, and now that I am a peer You must know that I adore you.
I would lay down my life for you, I would share my good fortune with you.
And I know that you care for me too-- I never cared for you! I pitied you, as a young man deprived of his inheritance.
But you have since become a rapist and a murderer.
I'd sooner die than marry you.
The war has taken the lives of many Englishmen and far too many landholders of Wigleigh.
Their lands have lain fallow for years, and it's time we distributed the property to those who can farm it.
We've decided, therefore, to award these landholdings to George Perkin.
Why? Why him? Why not us? He's a landholder.
You're a labourer.
So? He can't pay the labourers he's got now.
I pay you what I can.
Food! You pay us food, and we're still starving! Give the land to the peasants.
We'll farm it.
Can you pay the tenant's fee? Well, we'll pay it bit by bit! We'll work all the harder if the land is ours! Your purpose as peasants is to feed and support the bishops and lords-- Yeah, who tax us and rob us to keep us in our place! My decision stands! You said nothing.
It's dangerous to speak your mind like that.
- You'd rather be robbed? - I'd rather go poor than be hanged a traitor.
- Somebody's got to defend what is rightfully ours.
- Not you! - Why not? - You're a woman! You make me look like a gelding - when you speak like that! - Why don't you stand up for yourself and your sons - and your woman?! - No one can stand up for you! You've got a bigger prick than any man in Wigleigh! - Mama! No, don't! - Stop! Don't fight! Please, Ma, no! Da, no!! Ma! Go! Just get out of my life! Mama, are you all right? Mother Cecilia just told me you were writing a book.
Did you get my letter? I didn't think you'd ever come back Are you with your family? The Mortality visited us.
My wife and child died.
I caught it too, but God was cruel and He let me live.
I'm so sorry.
And you? I practice the arts of healing.
I'm still learning.
And now? A return, or just a stop on your journey? That depends on you.
- Caris, listen to me-- - No.
- Please, I have thought-- If I leave the convent, I'll be hanged.
No one can still believe that you're a witch.
Godwyn does.
Well, then we'll steal away! We'll go back to Italy.
To replace what you have lost? My feelings are worthy, why do you sully them? You can't neglect a crop for years and then expect to come back to a harvest! I'm changed, and I'm sure that you are too! I loved you from the moment I saw you.
I've never stopped loving you since.
Pray for me, but don't love me.
Go.
Please.
I'm beginning to wonder whether we should be at war at all.
The news from France is that they have been decimated by the Great Mortality.
This pestilence has fought your war for you.
Now is the perfect time to attack, - not retreat.
- Oh.
And who shall I send to fight then, Mother? You? God gave you a sign saying this war was just.
- Why should He fail you now? - Was it really a sign from God or the trick of a greedier messenger? A civil uprising deposed my father.
A secret order commanded his death.
A foreign war was declared, and all to what purpose? To put you in power, Mother.
And now comes the Great Mortality, which truly is a sign that God is not happy.
Checkmate.
I think you'd better leave.
Mon cher, these are my rooms.
I mean London.
I don't want to see you in my court again.
Edward.
Edward, listen to me.
Edward! Edward!!! I stood by your son on the battlefield, Your Majesty, but this time he is mistaken.
You deserve praise, not exile.
It only becomes exile if I don't return.
Merthin, lad, genius lad! That Italian loom design you gave me works wonders.
The speed, the quality-- Leave Merthin alone, husband.
Come sit.
I'd rather do more than sit.
Oh, behave yourself! Ahh, Petranilla.
The lovely Petranilla.
- Would you care to dance? - Dance? You must not resist.
I am your Lord, and you are the most beautiful woman in Kingsbridge.
You know, I've often thought how very foolish I was to give you up.
Do you think there's still a chance for you and I? After all these years? It would be my most fervent wish.
Wonderful.
Marvellous.
Of all the fillies I ever had, you were the sweetest.
- My Lord? - Let's go outside now, we could have a quick frolic, save the dance for later.
My Lord, I am an honourable woman.
I'm not asking you to marry me! I'm the Earl of Shiring! Come on! No, my Lord! Too good for me now? There was a time when you would have done anything I asked.
There was a time you would not have asked it like this.
You'll be lucky to get a frolic from anyone at your age.
What do you want? A gift.
Of land.
Permission to be a tenant and not just a serf on your property.
You've asked that before.
Grovelling won't help.
Then give it to my son.
My oldest.
And why would I do that? Because he's yours.
Get lost.
I want to propose a toast! May winter soon be over! May spring come soon! May our crops return! And may my wife's teats never sag! What is it? I'm not certain.
What are those? Keep him calm.
I'll be back in a moment.
Sister Katrina.
I need to talk to you.
- Is it what I think it is? - Yes.
What do we do? Isolation is the only thing that might stop it.
- Some even say it's contagious by sight.
- Impossible.
By wind perhaps.
That's what Galen says.
They wore linen face masks in Florence.
But I can't promise that it helped.
Thank you.
- Sister Mair? - Yes? I want everyone to wear masks of linen over their nose and mouth.
- Whatever for? - In hope of protecting us whilst we nurse.
The Great Mortality has come to Kingsbridge.
You are sinners! The wrath of God has descended upon you all! Sinners, all of you! God has no mercy with sinners like you! - Sister, are you all right? - Yes.
We need to find some more room to isolate the sick.
Maybe we should convert an outbuilding into a plague-house.
Absolutely not.
Giving people more room to die won't help anyone, not to mention how much it will cost.
It will make them more comfortable.
It might even stop the spread of the disease.
The disease is God's punishment on a wicked world.
We need more Death to rid us of this carnal sin! It's a crime, a crime to intervene in God's will.
Godwyn! You are no physician! What you know of these matters is next to nothing! And worse, as a trained theologian, your beliefs are fetid and malevolent, as the Mortality itself! "God's punishment"? We are burying children! What sort of God do you worship who would let innocent-- Get out.
Get out at once! Disgusting! Well, it seems we got our point across about the masks.
Did you see how he covered his face? I'm not frightened.
I'm curious.
I hope He's merciful, and I haven't got it all wrong.
Mostly right, I should think.
Where's your mask? - I don't want-- - Put it on.
You must take my place, of course.
I told Sister Mair to insist on it.
I can't take your place.
You're the only one who can.
Mother, you're forgetting that I That you lost your faith? Yeah.
There isn't one true believer who hasn't been in that long dark night.
You are in that crucible now, child Let God continue to work through you, building your hospice and writing your book.
It would seem most of the nuns want Sister Caris as our next prioress.
- And how do we prevent that? - I would be willing to run against her.
My dear Sister Elizabeth, much as I despise my cousin Caris, even I have to admit her popularity.
If you hope to win, we must exploit her unpopular side.
Her use of masks, for example, is pagan superstition.
Forgo the use of one yourself.
We know the plague is the Devil's work and God will protect us and sicken her.
Sister, where's your mask? Masks are the Devil's nonsense.
She still reads heretic philosophy-- I've seen the books myself! Written by Arab infidels who would like nothing better than to wipe Christianity off the face of the earth! Therefore, I humbly suggest another of our sisters, myself or someone worthier, should be our next Prioress.
Mother? What's the meaning of this calling for me at this hour? Why couldn't it wait until the morning? What kind of mother are you? Putting me in danger!? We need to collect all the Priory's relics and possessions immediately.
We're leaving Kingsbridge and this terrible plague behind! I will not obey.
We're needed here to nurse the sick and bury the dead, and if the Mortality takes our lives, that's God's business.
Anyone who wishes to stay with me is welcome.
And anyone who disobeys me will risk his immortal soul! And that's God's business too.
Not yours.
We'll leave within the hour.
What do you want? - I must speak to Earl Roland.
- The castle is closed to all visitors because of the pestilence.
Tell him I have news of his son! His sons are dead.
One poisoned, one fallen in France.
Not all of them are dead.
Tell him that.
Please.
Wait here.
What do you want? It's Petranilla, my Lord.
You?! I rose from my bed for you? What's this about my sons? Your son, my Lord.
He lives.
You're daft, woman.
Which one? The son you never knew.
The son I bore you out of our love.
And he lives! The pestilence has taken your mind! I never loved you! Go home and die! My Lord! My Lord! I've been looking for you.
Godwyn has gone.
He left during the night.
Of course he has.
Do you believe in God, Thomas? Yes, I think I do.
Then where is He? I see no God here.
They say His presence is often hidden.
"And His ways mysterious," I know.
So mysterious He's chosen a non-believer to run His convent.
Well, His only son chose for his closest friends fishermen, peasants, a tax collector, and several whores.
I'd say you're an improvement.
- I have other news.
- Hmm? Godwyn took everything of value.
- Including our money? - I'm afraid so.
What on earth does he think it will buy him? Just stop.
I beg you.
A Princess does not cry.
- Don't make me go.
- The Prince of Castille is a wealthy man, Joan.
Why can't I marry an Englishman? Because Spain will give you a crown, and us an ally against France.
I'll never see you again.
Of course you will.
You'll return a Queen, which is what you deserve.
Now look at me.
Of all my children, Joan, you're my favourite.
I want only the best for you.
Now go.
Brother Godwyn? Prior Godwyn, Brother Saul.
Prior Saul, Prior Godwyn.
You'd turn us away? - We bring gold.
- Which will buy you nothing.
Not food, we haven't enough as it is.
Not shelter.
And it's what else you might be bringing that frightens me.
But we are Brothers in Christ! I brought only the purest of heart! - Pestilence does not walk with us! - How can you be certain - none of you are ill? - Did you not hear me? We are Godly! You must sleep in the barn for a week, - and then, if there are still no signs of disease-- - We'll freeze out there! You should have stayed in Kingsbridge, where it's warmer and the supplies are plentiful, and where the people needed you.
How dare you say we aren't Godly? How dare you say we are not Godly? Our Brothers, Prior Saul, I am sorry to say, has discovered black boils on his neck, and so has voluntarily isolated himself in the barn.
God has vouchsafed to protect me from this terrible plague, and so I will be the Prior's sole attending physician.
The rest of you will remain isolated here until the disease passes.
Let us pray.
Prior Godwyn has disappeared, leaving no one in charge of Kingsbridge but myself and Mother Caris.
Many of our citizens are afraid to leave their houses, which is understandable, but we ask that you go to them and bring them word of our new rules concerning the disease.
First of all, everyone must wear masks.
The good sisters have made linen ones which Sister Mair will distribute.
Please take them to your neighbours and leave them on their doorsteps.
Also, we need volunteers to bury the dead.
Bodies must be cleared from the streets and the river, covered in lime and buried in communal graves.
In order to contain the disease, Kingsbridge must be sealed off, the town wall made impregnable, and a sentry posted on the bridge to guard against intruders.
Most importantly, we must care for the children who have lost their parents.
Anyone who has any room at all, please, please take them in.
And lastly, I have not yet been ratified as Prioress by the new bishop, who refuses to come to Kingsbridge until after the disease has left.
So, in order to affirm my position and make these rules irrevocable law, I must go to him.
- Caris! - What are you doing? I've come to escort you.
- I don't need escorting-- - I don't need a lecture.
Just a 'thank you' will do.
Thank you.
You're welcome.
Come no further! State your purpose and leave.
Mother Caris of Kingsbridge, come to be ratified as Prioress.
Prior Godwyn didn't write me about this? Prior Godwyn fled when the Mortality struck, taking with him the relics and all of our money.
Who's running Kingsbridge then? No one officially, Eminence.
My clergy is decimated.
You are not the first with this problem.
To help, the Holy Father has issued an emergency decree.
Nuns may hear confessions and bury the many dead.
You may not say Mass, but other than that, you are the new Prior.
Eminence, I am Prior? I don't under-- In nomine Patri et Filii et Spiritu Sancti.
- Amen.
- Eminence.
Now leave.
Well, I'll leave you here.
Congratulations, Prior.
Write your book, heal the sick, and build your hospice.
It's all in your power now.
When this is over, you are mine.
Mother? No.
Shall I send for Ralph, Mother? He could be here by noon.
I won't be long.
Can I share a secret with you? Of course, my Lady.
For many years, I was barren.
When I finally gave birth, the child was stillborn.
I was heartbroken until my husband, Sir Gerald, brought me another child to take its place.
He told me that its mother had died.
I loved this orphan as if he were my own.
But I soon gave birth to a second son, the legitimate heir to Shiring Castle.
His father and I hid this truth, rather than name his brother a bastard.
Brother Joseph! Forgive me, Brother.
We took it with us.
To Saint-John- in-the-Forest.
Took what?