have come to fetch
their gold.
-The Moors?
Don't let them aboard.
Set sail at once.
-The gold is theirs by right.
-I will not see them.
-Send one of the men.
-I need my men, Mr. Tapling.
I have pains in my body.
I cannot move.
The hand of death is upon me.
In that case, you shall have
no need for rations.
You would withhold rations
from a dying man?
I would consider it my duty
to help speed your release
from this world, sir.
The admiral will hear of this.
And what did they give us in return?
-Last one, men!
-Thank-you, sir.
-What's that smell, Matthews?
-What? Oh, it's the cattle sir.
They haven't got the sense to get
their rear ends over the side
Well, get some men on it.
-Not a job for volunteers, sir.
-No, but at least they're busy.
It takes their minds off
other matters.
There's truth in that, sir.
We'd best get out to sea, away
from this infernal wind.
Get that forecastle bent on.
And then send the hands to stations
for weighing anchor.
Lively now!
What is the meaning of this?
A problem, Mr. Tapling?
Did you give orders that I should be
assigned cook's mate?
-Are you a carpenter?
-What?
-Or a surgeon?
Are you qualified for that?
-Oh, now look here…
We have no need for a wordsmith
on this voyage, Mr. Tapling.
We're short on crew, and
each must pull his weight.
But cook's mate. I am not bred
for such a task.
If you can show me a job for which
you are better qualified,
I'll consider it.
We should beat a path close up
to the straits, Matthews;
'lest this Westerly and
the current takes us
-out of reach of Gibraltar.
-Aye, aye, Captain.
She's not cut out for this kind
of work.
Let's hope she hangs together.
-And slaughter a bullock for the men.
-A bullock, sir?
Each meal might be our last.
Let's ensure it's a feast.
This is, without question,
the most revolting experience
of my entire life.
-It has its advantages, sir.
-None that I can see.
The man with the hatchet gets
to pick the choicest cuts.
Indeed.  Show me.
Let us pray
that we live in quarantine
for the rest of our lives.
-Does it taste as you remember?
-It does.
There's a certain satisfaction
in seeing
one's efforts appreciated.
Not half as satisfying
as a nice bit of fillet.
Ah, for heaven's sake.
-What do you want?
-It's happened.
What's happened?  Talk sense, man!
The plague.
Get away.  Don't touch him.
Stay away.
Get back.  Huh? Here. Got him, right.
-Now, now get him overboard.
-Belay that, Styles!
-But, sir!
-Belay that.  Put that down.
I warned you, Hornblower!
I warned you this would happen!
We're all dead!
Control yourself, if you please,
Mr. Tapling.
Straighten yourself up, man.
Put him where he belongs
in the hold with
the rest of the stinking beasts.
The man is drunk!
Very noble of you, Mr. Hornblower,
I'm sure.
-What?
-To risk your life so.
There was no risk, Mr. Tapling.
If the man had been carrying
the plague, we were all done for
anyway.
What's up with our guests,
Mr. Matthews?
-These animals are thirsty again,sir.
-Then water them.
Trouble is, sir, we have but
three days' water left.
Three days?  We've still a week to
serve with the quarantine.
Cattle - thirsty brutes, sir.
Very well.  When the wind picks up,
we'll stand into the coast
and look for a stream in a quiet spot
A small town, about half
a mile inland, sir.
Spied a few guards but there's
nothing going to worry you.
They must have followed you.
Over there!
Fire!
Bunting!
Take charge here, Matthews.
Get down.
Get into the trees!
Get into the trees!
Don't move!  If you run,
I will kill you.
Then why did you save me?
To hang?
You will return to Gibraltar
to stand trial.
Stand still!
Better the speed of the bullet than
the slow agony of the rope.
If you have your heart set
on dying, I will oblige.
Then do it, and I will be
forever in your debt.
My duty is clear.
Your duty?
To save a man so that he may
be killed more slowly?
You will return