for
five hours or five minutes.
Mr. Hunter, what sail did
the San Nicolas have?
T'gallants
and topsails, sir.
Very well,
take in the topsail.
But the wind is fair, sir...
And ease the sheets.
I wish to slow her down,
Mr. Hunter.
Aye aye, sir.
Keep her steady, Matthews.
Aye aye, sir.
You're hoping the Spaniards
will pass us by.
Hope is the word, Matthews.
Hope and a prayer
that this fog holds.
Styles, in the stern,
if you please.
Inform me if any don
sniffs us too close.
Sir.
(whispers loudly):
Sir!
Ship dead astern, sir.
Course?
Straight for us
and gaining, sir.
Matthews, three points
to windward.
Aye aye, sir.
She's passing us starboard, sir.
Abeam, sir.
Sir.
The sun.
Matthews:
It'll burn off
the fog, sir.
Your hat.
Hmm?
Your hat, Mr. Hunter.
That must be the Oriente.
(man shouts in Spanish)
How many guns would you say,
Mr. Hunter?
Oriente...
Guns, 74, sir.
So if it came to matching
broadsides
I expect we would lose.
But it would be
a damn close-run thing.
Don't you think, Styles?
Damn close, sir.
Take 'em at least a minute
to sink us.
Mr. Hunter.
Go below, find what
French clothes you can.
Pass them round the crew.
No man is to show his face
above decks
Unless he looks like a frog.
Aye aye, sir.
Oldroyd, get aft.
Mr. Hunter
has clothes for you.
Aye aye, sir.
Duchess:
Oh, I wouldn't say no
To that dinner now.
Shh!
What? Have I said something?
It appears we are surrounded by
the Spanish fleet, Your Grace.
I would respectfully suggest
that you keep to your cabin.
What? And miss all the fun?
For your own safety, ma'am,
and, dare I say it, for ours.
What is it, Oldroyd?
You might want to put these on.
Very well.
Take it to the quarterdeck.
Tell Mr. Hunter
All men to keep their
own clothes beside them
in the event we are taken.
I don't want us all
to be hanged as spies.
Aye aye, sir.
Trying to pass yourself off
as a Frenchman, aren't you?
Well, I would
respectfully suggest
That a well-dressed woman
on your deck
might add to that impression.
As Your Grace pleases.
Do you think you'll slip
the dagoes, Mr. H.?
The odds are long,
Your Grace
even for a gambling man.
The breeze is freshening.
We won't have refuge
in the mist much longer.
Mr. Hunter's compliments, sir.
The wind's
getting up again.
Look.
Keep her steady,
Matthews.
Aye aye, sir.
At least her ports
are closed, sir.
Mr. Hunter, have Styles
and Oldroyd
Ioad the swivel guns
with case.
And to make it look like
they're cleaning the guns
not loading them.
Styles, Oldroyd,
starboard midships.
Messieurs, identifiez
vous memen, s'il vous plait.
Le Reve, en route
Pour Cadiz.
Looks like they're
sending a boat, sir.
Man:
Nous avons I'honneur
de preter I'assistance a notre
confedere estime et valiant.
He's offering us
his assistance now.
God damn him to hell.
Sir, their boat's
in the water.
Stand by your gun.
Fire on my order.
Damn, they're everywhere.
Sir.
They're up to something, sir.
(speaking French)
They're signaling, sir.
But what are they
damn well signaling?
She's opening her ports, sir.
Le Reve, you must surrender.
Je ne comprends pas.
We know who you are.
Surrender or we fire.
Mais pourquoi?
Nous sommes Francais!
Sir, their boat's in range.
(screams)
Oldroyd,
Haul down her colors.
Aye aye, sir.
(man wailing)
Mr. Hunter, get everyone
out of these damn costumes.
Let's be taken
for Englishmen, eh?
Aye aye, sir.
I must go below,
Mr. Hunter.
The deck is yours.
I'm so sorry, sir.
It was a valiant attempt.
But it failed.
Your Grace must excuse me.
What have you got there?
They are dispatches.
From Gibrattar.
I must ensure
they do not fall
into the wrong hands.
Give them to me.
I cannot do that.
If you get captured,
what'll happen to me?
You will be transferred
to a