gentlemen,
ladies...
The King.
All:
The King.
The King.
As for the enemy
May the dons never leave
their boathole in Cadiz.
Ah, then, a bumper to the dons,
Sir Edward.
But, I doubt the Spanish
will leave Cadiz
For all their alliance
with the French.
They'll sit out the war
and then sail forth
to congratulate the winner.
Perhaps.
What is your opinion,
Mr. Hornblower?
Why have such a force
and not use it?
I believe they will come out
to fight.
And you hope
you will be there
When they do, don't you,
Mr. Hornblower?
Indeed, I do, Your Grace.
Hunter:
There's two swivel guns
on each side.
We won't be able to put up
much of a fight, sir.
We won't put up any fight,
Mr. Hunter; we will run.
We'll head due south out
of Gibrattar, Matthews.
Put some sea
between ourselves
and any frog privateer
lurking in Algeciras
before we head west.
Matthews:
Aye aye, sir.
Once through the straits
and off Tarifa
we will set a course nor-nor west
for Cape St. Vincent.
Boat ahoy!
Captain Pellew's
coming aboard, sir.
And, uh, a lady, sir.
Nice dress, sir;
good looking.
Don't froth at the mouth, Styles.
You've seen a woman before,
man.
Not in six bloody months,
I haven't.
Call this a ship, Mr. H?
Welcome aboard,
Your Grace.
I'd be frit out of my wits crossing
Thames in this.
She's safe enough,
Your Grace.
Mr. Hunter will show you
to your cabin.
Thank you.
Ma'am.
Mr. Hunter.
Mr. Hornblower.
The port admiral gave me these.
They are for the admiratty.
They contain information
worth more
Than the whole
of Jervis's squadron.
Should you be boarded or
even threatened with boarding
These go to the bottom
of the sea.
Aye aye, sir.
Well, wind is set fair.
Duchess:
I say, Mr. Hornblower.
Your Grace.
I'm used to roughing it.
But, um... but, I can
hardly unbutton myself
in that damn cupboard.
Could you swap me your cabin?
I believe Mr. Hornblower
has already given you
his cabin, Your Grace.
It is the best I can offer,
Your Grace.
Oh, there I go again, putting
my foot in my mouth.
(laughter)
I do apologize, Mr. H.
Well, I'm sure you want me
out the way
so you can sail the damn thing.
Sir Edward...
How can I ever thank you?
No, not at all,
Your Grace.
Not at all.
Well, she's all yours,
Mr. Hornblower.
Good luck, sir.
What are you staring at?
All hands to the windlass.
Do you want to waste
this wind?
All hands
to the windlass!
Ma'am.
Oops.
Duchess (weakly):
Yes.
Forgive me for disturbing you,
Your Grace.
I was wondering,
would you do the honor
of joining me for dinner?
Oh, bugger dinner.
When is this storm going to end?
Storm, Your Grace?
We have a fair wind
and a calm sea.
Leave me alone.
(retches)
It's coming up
thick, sir.
It'll be thicker
by morning.
Atter course, Matthews,
due west.
We can't risk not clearing
Cape St. Vincent.
Plenty of sea-room,
sir.
To atter course
will only delay us.
Thank you, Mr. Hunter.
When I need your opinion,
I'll ask for it.
Atter course, Matthews.
Aye aye, sir.
She's, uh, quite some woman,
that duchess
Isn't she, sir?
What's that got to do
with attering course?
Nothing, sir.
Aye aye, sir.
(breathing heavily)
(whispers):
Mr. Hornblower, sir.
Sir, Mr. Hunter asks won't
you come on deck, sir.
Good morning,
Mr. Hunter.
Shh, quiet.
Listen.
(men shouting in Spanish)
Dagoes, sir.
Shh.
We're in the middle of a fleet,
by God.
You should never have
attered course.
Yes, thank you, Mr. Hunter.
Call all hands.
Quietly.
(shouting continues)
So, the dons have left Cadiz.
(bell ringing)
Sir... Starboard.
There.
(bell ringing)
Styles:
It's a two-decker, sir.
The San Nicolas.
84 guns.
Mr. Hunter,
find the French colors.
Sir?
Le Reve's colors, man,
run them up.
The dons might not wish
to fire on their allies.
Aye aye, sir.
It's a poor ruse,
but it might buy some time.
This fog could hold