Do or die
episode 5Margaret of Anjou: I have ominous feet.
Edward: I’ve just appeared out of nowhere and snuck into London while no-one was looking.
Elizabeth: My boyfriend’s back and you’re gonna be in trouble!
Edward: Now let’s fuck!
Isobel: I’m a limping gazelle.
Warwick: Suck it up, Duchess!
Margaret Beaufort: I’m the centre of the universe and so is my son.
Stafford: You’re not, but I love you anyway. You selfish cow.
Margaret of Anjou: Come here. Anne, and let me insult you.
Jaquetta: Come. my witchy daughter. Bring the baby witch and we shall raise a mist!
George: Warwick’s got three times as many men as we have.
Edward: Well, I counted 15, so that puts his army at 45. And where did this bloody mist come from? I can’t see my hand in front of my face!
Messenger: Message for you, my lord.
Warwick: Who from?
Messenger: He didn’t say. He wants to meet you at the Black Horse Pub and Restaurant. Said it was important.
Second Messenger: Your Grace, chap says he has to talk to you. Urgent, he reckons.
Edward: I’m about to fight a really lame battle!
Second Messenger: He said it’ll only take a moment.
Interlude in the Black Horse
Montagu: What the hell’s going on, brother?
Warwick: About to fight the battle of Barnet. Why?
Montagu: Without me?
Hastings: I’m not there, either. I’m surprised none of you has noticed.
Montagu: It’s not the only thing they’ve got wrong. Remember Lord Welles? The Queen with real magical powers? William Herbert walking and talking two years after his head was cut off? Did none of it make you stop and think?
Warwick: I remember I was on my way to Alnwick Castle, then suddenly I was riding through a forest with Edward.
Edward: Yes, it’s all rather odd, isn’t it?
Gloucester: Well, I heard it’s because the truth can be pretty boring.
Hastings: Or that the average television viewer is too stupid to understand the real complexities of real history.
Warwick: So, John, any chance you can join me? Might even up the odds a little.
Edward: Well, I’m down Hastings. Seems pretty fair to me.
Gloucester: Speaking of Hastings…
Hastings: You’ll just have to make do with a Wydeville or two, I suppose.
Gloucester: It won’t be the same!
Warwick: Well, I’m not enjoying being a total prick married to an ice queen with two clueless bints as daughters.
Clarence: A clueless bint and a limping gazelle.
Warwick: And what’s all this ‘kingmaker’ nonsense?
Edward: Oh, stop moaning, cousin! You’ll be out of it quicker than I will. What with your hardened troop of 45 soldiers up against my 15.
Warwick: Can I hold you to that?
Edward: Let’s just get back to it, ok? I’ll see what I can do.
Anne: Daddy’s dead!
Edward Prince of Wales: Snarl, scowl, glower, snarl.
Anne: They’re not going to feel sad when you die, the way you’re going.
Edward Prince of Wales; Don’t care!
Anne: I want Mummy!
Margaret of Anjou: Bitch, snide, snark, bitch.
Margaret Beaufort: Now, I see dead people!
Edward: Let’s all be magnanimous and sentimental in victory, even though we don’t actually stop by London on the way to Tewkesbury.
Gloucester; Yes, let’s!
Clarence: Do we have to? I’d rather be sulky and snidy.
Margaret of Anjou: I’m a crazy French bitch!
Lancastrian army: Yay!
Margaret of Anjou: The time has come… to lipsynch for your lives.
Messenger: We’ve lost! Aaaaarrrrgh!
Margaret of Anjou: Run away!
Soldiers: Get off your horse woman, and get ready for bad Yorkist sex!
Gloucester: Don’t worry, Anne! I shall save you.
Margaret of Anjou: Leave me alone, little hobbit.
Margaret Beaufort: I know you’re dying, husband, but I just need to think only about myself for a bit. Is that all right? Bye.
Jasper Tudor: I’m Welsh and sexy.
Margaret Beaufort; Look after your uncle, son, he’s Welsh and sexy.
Gloucester: I’ll take care of you, Anne.
Anne: Will that involve a healing shag?
Gloucester: I rather think it will.
Margaret Beaufort: My husband’s dead. I wish I’d been nicer to him now.
Elizabeth: *gasp* I’ve just watched my husband smother Jesus in his underwear!
episode 6Edward: See my shiny cardboard crown!
Anne: Yes, I was married to the Prince of Wales. But I didn’t like him.
Edward: That’s all right, then.
Elizabeth: I still hate you!
Isobel: I’m going to be a bitch, now. I’m over the limping gazelle thing.
Anne: Where’s Mummy?
Isobel: Forget Mummy!
Clarence: Look at me, pretending to be nice.
Isobel: Bitch fight!
Margaret Beaufort: Give me a sign.
Messenger: Your mother’s dying.
Margaret Beaufort: *high fives God* Yesss!
Elizabeth: Jane Shore! The name of doom! She’s going to make everything go in slow motion, just you watch.
Margaret Beaufort: Dear Jasper, do you still want me?
Anne: I want Mummy!
Jaquetta: I’m dying. You’ll be senior witch soon, Elizabeth. Can you handle it?
Anne: Can I have my healing shag, now?
Gloucester: Soon, I promise.
Anne: George wants to keep my stuff!
Gloucester: I want your stuff as well, but I can pretend not to, if you like.
Jasper: Dear Margaret, no, I don’t want you.
Margaret Beaufort: Bloody buggery! I’ll marry Frodo instead. What will you tell him, Sir Reginald?
Sir Reg: Well, probably not that you’re demented.
Anne: Flatter, crawl, schmooze, flatter.
Isobel: Respond, reward, bask, respond.
Anthony Wydeville: I can feel some foreshadowing coming on. Something to do with your son, Liz. I’m going to make a rash promise I’m sure I’ll live to regret.
Elizabeth: But not for long.
Anne: Healing shag?
Gloucester: Patience!
Anne: I don’t need you, anyway!
Clarence: Get thee to a nunnery!
Sir Reg: How about Stanley, Lady Wrong Title? No, bear with me, I’ve got some foreshadowing that might help you decide.
Margaret Beaufort: Ok, sounds good.
Clarence: Jane Shore!
Anne: Richard, help me!
Gloucester: Run away!
Anne: Aren’t we going to do the cookshop thing, then?
Gloucester: They decided it was too farfetched.
Anne: *facepalm*
Gloucester: Will you marry me?
Anne: You just want my stuff!
Gloucester: But I’m also going to pretend to love you. Can’t say fairer than that.
Anne: Are we getting any closer to that healing shag?
Gloucester: How about a snog for starters?
Magaret Beaufort: Let’s get married.
Stanley: Ok.
Margaret Beaufort: Not going to sleep with you but.
Stanley: Oh, that’s a relief! But you’ll have to be nice to the Queen.
Woman: The Queen might die!
Elizabeth: I’m ok, actually. Sorry about all the screaming.
Anne: Healing shag time! Yay!
Isobel: Why am I the only one who doesn’t get to have sex?
Margaret: I’m not, either.
Stanley: Nor me. Despite how alluring my new bride is in her nightie.
Anne: Mummy’s a coldhearted bitch!
Isobel: I love you!
Anne: I love you, too!
Elizabeth: Jane Shore!
Edward: She means nothing! You’re the only one that matters. And when I professed my undying love for you and only you back in episode 1, you knew I didn’t mean it.
Margaret Beaufort: I think I’m being set up to murder the Princes.
episode 7Edward: I’m a shagger.
Elizabeth: I’m a breeder.
Stanley: I’m a schemer.
Margaret Beaufort: To tell you the truth, I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be.
Clarence: Let’s go to France!
Edward: I’d rather shag. But why the hell not?
Gloucester: I’ve not forgotten you’re a derp, George.
Clarence: And I’ve not forgotten that you’ve got Warwick Castle, despite the fact that you live at Middleham.
Gloucester: It’s just this pesky truth thing, George. It’s so utterly boring.
Margaret Beaufort: That’s right! I’m a prayer. Oh, and I need another sign.
Woman: Destiny calls!
Margaret Beaufort: Good one, God!
Elizabeth: It’s a boy!
Margaret Beaufort: Here, let me save his life so I can have an attack of conscience when I decide to kill him and his brother in, let’s say, episode 9, just before I send him off to be Perkin Warbeck. Oh, look, he’s breathing.
Elizabeth: I’ll stop being mean to you now.
Margaret Beaufort: Seriously, God… Score!
Anne: I’ve got a baby boy, too. Oh, and he’s frail and angelic®, just like his Dad.
Countess of Warwick: Coldhearted sneer.
Anne: Lock her up!
Gloucester: Done!
Countess: Help me, Anne!
Anne: No, I’m going to stamp my foot and whine, just like a little girl!
Clarence: I’m going to be King of France!
Elizabeth: You can’t be King of France!
Clarence: Can!
Elizabeth: Can’t!
Clarence: Can!
Anthony: I hate war! I’m going to Rome. Bye.
Gloucester: George is going to be King of France.
Isobel: I’m pregnant again. And I still haven’t had sex!
Margaret Beaufort: Dear son, I hate everyone. Except you.
Anne: George is mean and greedy.
Isobel: No, he’s just misunderstood.
Elizabeth: Curse, sneer, bitch, curse.
Isobel: The Queen just cursed us! She’s a witch! And she sent that storm, remember? In episode 3. The one that killed my first child. As storms are well known for doing. Please don’t ask me how I know that, I just do.
Edward: Louis wants to pay us to go away.
Gloucester: No! Let’s fight him!
Clarence: I want to be King of France. You promised!
Gloucester: Well, I’m not taking the money.
Clarence: Can we at least throw Exeter overboard on the way back?
Gloucester: Who’s Exeter?
Clarence: Exeter! You know! Fought at Barnet. Was married to our sister, Anne.
Gloucester: Doesn’t ring a bell. And we only have one sister. I don’t think she has a name. Haven’t seen our around for a while. Wonder what she’s up to.
Clarence: I’m not going to be King of France. So I shall make some unsubstantiated claim about plotting with Louis XI to take the throne of England instead.
Isobel: The Queen’s a witch!
Clarence: I’ll sort it.
Gloucester: I don’t want this French money.
Anne: Then send it back.
Gloucester: Well, it’s here now…
Countess of Warwick: Anne, I’m going to tell you something that makes it clear that whoever wrote this didn’t read the primary sources very well.
Anne: It’s episode 7, Mother. Tell me something I don’t know!
Isobel: George says. George says. George says. Oh, Anne, I think I’m turning back into a limping gazelle!
Elizabeth: George, it’s confrontation time.
Clarence: This isn’t going to end well. I’m off home to commit treason by sorcery.
Elizabeth: Good luck with that.
Isobel: I’ve been poisoned by the Queen! Where’s. My. Sex?
Clarence: Isobel’s dead. And I think there’s an implication that I poisoned her so that I can blame the Queen. Is there no end to my evil?
Elizabeth: Edward! George just called me a witch!
Edward: Well, you are.
Elizabeth: Yes, but I don’t want anyone to know. Meanwhile, I think I’ll turn Anne against him.
Anne: Richard, is it true that you can divorce me and keep my stuff?
Gloucester: In this version it would seem to be.
Anne: Well, in this version George poisoned Isobel.
Gloucester: Amongst other things. It’s just that the truth is…
Anne: Boring. I know. Still, I think the twelve people still watching deserve a little better.
Edward: Let’s parteh!
George: Let me foreshadow from behind this clever mask. Then I think I’ll rant for a while.
Edward: Damn you for spoiling my party! Seize him!
Clarence: Help! I’ve been seized!
Cecily: Oh, please don’t let them kill my ickle Georgiekins!
Elizabeth: Confide, angst, ponder, confide.
Margaret Beaufort: You think you’ve got problems, bitch?
Cecily: Georgiepoohs would never do anything wrong. Watch me beg!
Clarence: Hang on, can we just stop for a bit. Anne’s cookshop schtick was too farfetched, yeah? But it’s perfectly ok to tell the twelve people still watching that I poisoned my wife; and we’re actually going to do the whole butt of malmsey thing?
Executioner: So it would seem.
Clarence: Ok, cool. Just getting it straight in my head.
Gloucester: Half hearted attempt to save George way too late.
Anne: Let’s go home to Warwick Castle. Even though we live at Middleham.
Stanley: There’s a lot of people need to die before your son can become king, Margaret.
Margaret Beaufort: Right… Are you there, God? It’s me, Margaret.
Edward: I’ve just appeared out of nowhere and snuck into London while no-one was looking.
Elizabeth: My boyfriend’s back and you’re gonna be in trouble!
Edward: Now let’s fuck!
Isobel: I’m a limping gazelle.
Warwick: Suck it up, Duchess!
Margaret Beaufort: I’m the centre of the universe and so is my son.
Stafford: You’re not, but I love you anyway. You selfish cow.
Margaret of Anjou: Come here. Anne, and let me insult you.
Jaquetta: Come. my witchy daughter. Bring the baby witch and we shall raise a mist!
George: Warwick’s got three times as many men as we have.
Edward: Well, I counted 15, so that puts his army at 45. And where did this bloody mist come from? I can’t see my hand in front of my face!
Messenger: Message for you, my lord.
Warwick: Who from?
Messenger: He didn’t say. He wants to meet you at the Black Horse Pub and Restaurant. Said it was important.
Second Messenger: Your Grace, chap says he has to talk to you. Urgent, he reckons.
Edward: I’m about to fight a really lame battle!
Second Messenger: He said it’ll only take a moment.
Interlude in the Black Horse
Montagu: What the hell’s going on, brother?
Warwick: About to fight the battle of Barnet. Why?
Montagu: Without me?
Hastings: I’m not there, either. I’m surprised none of you has noticed.
Montagu: It’s not the only thing they’ve got wrong. Remember Lord Welles? The Queen with real magical powers? William Herbert walking and talking two years after his head was cut off? Did none of it make you stop and think?
Warwick: I remember I was on my way to Alnwick Castle, then suddenly I was riding through a forest with Edward.
Edward: Yes, it’s all rather odd, isn’t it?
Gloucester: Well, I heard it’s because the truth can be pretty boring.
Hastings: Or that the average television viewer is too stupid to understand the real complexities of real history.
Warwick: So, John, any chance you can join me? Might even up the odds a little.
Edward: Well, I’m down Hastings. Seems pretty fair to me.
Gloucester: Speaking of Hastings…
Hastings: You’ll just have to make do with a Wydeville or two, I suppose.
Gloucester: It won’t be the same!
Warwick: Well, I’m not enjoying being a total prick married to an ice queen with two clueless bints as daughters.
Clarence: A clueless bint and a limping gazelle.
Warwick: And what’s all this ‘kingmaker’ nonsense?
Edward: Oh, stop moaning, cousin! You’ll be out of it quicker than I will. What with your hardened troop of 45 soldiers up against my 15.
Warwick: Can I hold you to that?
Edward: Let’s just get back to it, ok? I’ll see what I can do.
Anne: Daddy’s dead!
Edward Prince of Wales: Snarl, scowl, glower, snarl.
Anne: They’re not going to feel sad when you die, the way you’re going.
Edward Prince of Wales; Don’t care!
Anne: I want Mummy!
Margaret of Anjou: Bitch, snide, snark, bitch.
Margaret Beaufort: Now, I see dead people!
Edward: Let’s all be magnanimous and sentimental in victory, even though we don’t actually stop by London on the way to Tewkesbury.
Gloucester; Yes, let’s!
Clarence: Do we have to? I’d rather be sulky and snidy.
Margaret of Anjou: I’m a crazy French bitch!
Lancastrian army: Yay!
Margaret of Anjou: The time has come… to lipsynch for your lives.
Messenger: We’ve lost! Aaaaarrrrgh!
Margaret of Anjou: Run away!
Soldiers: Get off your horse woman, and get ready for bad Yorkist sex!
Gloucester: Don’t worry, Anne! I shall save you.
Margaret of Anjou: Leave me alone, little hobbit.
Margaret Beaufort: I know you’re dying, husband, but I just need to think only about myself for a bit. Is that all right? Bye.
Jasper Tudor: I’m Welsh and sexy.
Margaret Beaufort; Look after your uncle, son, he’s Welsh and sexy.
Gloucester: I’ll take care of you, Anne.
Anne: Will that involve a healing shag?
Gloucester: I rather think it will.
Margaret Beaufort: My husband’s dead. I wish I’d been nicer to him now.
Elizabeth: *gasp* I’ve just watched my husband smother Jesus in his underwear!
episode 6Edward: See my shiny cardboard crown!
Anne: Yes, I was married to the Prince of Wales. But I didn’t like him.
Edward: That’s all right, then.
Elizabeth: I still hate you!
Isobel: I’m going to be a bitch, now. I’m over the limping gazelle thing.
Anne: Where’s Mummy?
Isobel: Forget Mummy!
Clarence: Look at me, pretending to be nice.
Isobel: Bitch fight!
Margaret Beaufort: Give me a sign.
Messenger: Your mother’s dying.
Margaret Beaufort: *high fives God* Yesss!
Elizabeth: Jane Shore! The name of doom! She’s going to make everything go in slow motion, just you watch.
Margaret Beaufort: Dear Jasper, do you still want me?
Anne: I want Mummy!
Jaquetta: I’m dying. You’ll be senior witch soon, Elizabeth. Can you handle it?
Anne: Can I have my healing shag, now?
Gloucester: Soon, I promise.
Anne: George wants to keep my stuff!
Gloucester: I want your stuff as well, but I can pretend not to, if you like.
Jasper: Dear Margaret, no, I don’t want you.
Margaret Beaufort: Bloody buggery! I’ll marry Frodo instead. What will you tell him, Sir Reginald?
Sir Reg: Well, probably not that you’re demented.
Anne: Flatter, crawl, schmooze, flatter.
Isobel: Respond, reward, bask, respond.
Anthony Wydeville: I can feel some foreshadowing coming on. Something to do with your son, Liz. I’m going to make a rash promise I’m sure I’ll live to regret.
Elizabeth: But not for long.
Anne: Healing shag?
Gloucester: Patience!
Anne: I don’t need you, anyway!
Clarence: Get thee to a nunnery!
Sir Reg: How about Stanley, Lady Wrong Title? No, bear with me, I’ve got some foreshadowing that might help you decide.
Margaret Beaufort: Ok, sounds good.
Clarence: Jane Shore!
Anne: Richard, help me!
Gloucester: Run away!
Anne: Aren’t we going to do the cookshop thing, then?
Gloucester: They decided it was too farfetched.
Anne: *facepalm*
Gloucester: Will you marry me?
Anne: You just want my stuff!
Gloucester: But I’m also going to pretend to love you. Can’t say fairer than that.
Anne: Are we getting any closer to that healing shag?
Gloucester: How about a snog for starters?
Magaret Beaufort: Let’s get married.
Stanley: Ok.
Margaret Beaufort: Not going to sleep with you but.
Stanley: Oh, that’s a relief! But you’ll have to be nice to the Queen.
Woman: The Queen might die!
Elizabeth: I’m ok, actually. Sorry about all the screaming.
Anne: Healing shag time! Yay!
Isobel: Why am I the only one who doesn’t get to have sex?
Margaret: I’m not, either.
Stanley: Nor me. Despite how alluring my new bride is in her nightie.
Anne: Mummy’s a coldhearted bitch!
Isobel: I love you!
Anne: I love you, too!
Elizabeth: Jane Shore!
Edward: She means nothing! You’re the only one that matters. And when I professed my undying love for you and only you back in episode 1, you knew I didn’t mean it.
Margaret Beaufort: I think I’m being set up to murder the Princes.
episode 7Edward: I’m a shagger.
Elizabeth: I’m a breeder.
Stanley: I’m a schemer.
Margaret Beaufort: To tell you the truth, I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be.
Clarence: Let’s go to France!
Edward: I’d rather shag. But why the hell not?
Gloucester: I’ve not forgotten you’re a derp, George.
Clarence: And I’ve not forgotten that you’ve got Warwick Castle, despite the fact that you live at Middleham.
Gloucester: It’s just this pesky truth thing, George. It’s so utterly boring.
Margaret Beaufort: That’s right! I’m a prayer. Oh, and I need another sign.
Woman: Destiny calls!
Margaret Beaufort: Good one, God!
Elizabeth: It’s a boy!
Margaret Beaufort: Here, let me save his life so I can have an attack of conscience when I decide to kill him and his brother in, let’s say, episode 9, just before I send him off to be Perkin Warbeck. Oh, look, he’s breathing.
Elizabeth: I’ll stop being mean to you now.
Margaret Beaufort: Seriously, God… Score!
Anne: I’ve got a baby boy, too. Oh, and he’s frail and angelic®, just like his Dad.
Countess of Warwick: Coldhearted sneer.
Anne: Lock her up!
Gloucester: Done!
Countess: Help me, Anne!
Anne: No, I’m going to stamp my foot and whine, just like a little girl!
Clarence: I’m going to be King of France!
Elizabeth: You can’t be King of France!
Clarence: Can!
Elizabeth: Can’t!
Clarence: Can!
Anthony: I hate war! I’m going to Rome. Bye.
Gloucester: George is going to be King of France.
Isobel: I’m pregnant again. And I still haven’t had sex!
Margaret Beaufort: Dear son, I hate everyone. Except you.
Anne: George is mean and greedy.
Isobel: No, he’s just misunderstood.
Elizabeth: Curse, sneer, bitch, curse.
Isobel: The Queen just cursed us! She’s a witch! And she sent that storm, remember? In episode 3. The one that killed my first child. As storms are well known for doing. Please don’t ask me how I know that, I just do.
Edward: Louis wants to pay us to go away.
Gloucester: No! Let’s fight him!
Clarence: I want to be King of France. You promised!
Gloucester: Well, I’m not taking the money.
Clarence: Can we at least throw Exeter overboard on the way back?
Gloucester: Who’s Exeter?
Clarence: Exeter! You know! Fought at Barnet. Was married to our sister, Anne.
Gloucester: Doesn’t ring a bell. And we only have one sister. I don’t think she has a name. Haven’t seen our around for a while. Wonder what she’s up to.
Clarence: I’m not going to be King of France. So I shall make some unsubstantiated claim about plotting with Louis XI to take the throne of England instead.
Isobel: The Queen’s a witch!
Clarence: I’ll sort it.
Gloucester: I don’t want this French money.
Anne: Then send it back.
Gloucester: Well, it’s here now…
Countess of Warwick: Anne, I’m going to tell you something that makes it clear that whoever wrote this didn’t read the primary sources very well.
Anne: It’s episode 7, Mother. Tell me something I don’t know!
Isobel: George says. George says. George says. Oh, Anne, I think I’m turning back into a limping gazelle!
Elizabeth: George, it’s confrontation time.
Clarence: This isn’t going to end well. I’m off home to commit treason by sorcery.
Elizabeth: Good luck with that.
Isobel: I’ve been poisoned by the Queen! Where’s. My. Sex?
Clarence: Isobel’s dead. And I think there’s an implication that I poisoned her so that I can blame the Queen. Is there no end to my evil?
Elizabeth: Edward! George just called me a witch!
Edward: Well, you are.
Elizabeth: Yes, but I don’t want anyone to know. Meanwhile, I think I’ll turn Anne against him.
Anne: Richard, is it true that you can divorce me and keep my stuff?
Gloucester: In this version it would seem to be.
Anne: Well, in this version George poisoned Isobel.
Gloucester: Amongst other things. It’s just that the truth is…
Anne: Boring. I know. Still, I think the twelve people still watching deserve a little better.
Edward: Let’s parteh!
George: Let me foreshadow from behind this clever mask. Then I think I’ll rant for a while.
Edward: Damn you for spoiling my party! Seize him!
Clarence: Help! I’ve been seized!
Cecily: Oh, please don’t let them kill my ickle Georgiekins!
Elizabeth: Confide, angst, ponder, confide.
Margaret Beaufort: You think you’ve got problems, bitch?
Cecily: Georgiepoohs would never do anything wrong. Watch me beg!
Clarence: Hang on, can we just stop for a bit. Anne’s cookshop schtick was too farfetched, yeah? But it’s perfectly ok to tell the twelve people still watching that I poisoned my wife; and we’re actually going to do the whole butt of malmsey thing?
Executioner: So it would seem.
Clarence: Ok, cool. Just getting it straight in my head.
Gloucester: Half hearted attempt to save George way too late.
Anne: Let’s go home to Warwick Castle. Even though we live at Middleham.
Stanley: There’s a lot of people need to die before your son can become king, Margaret.
Margaret Beaufort: Right… Are you there, God? It’s me, Margaret.
@темы: "экранизации vs каноны"