do that.
Why not?
It would mean something
I do not feel.
What's come over you?
I'm married...
to him.
He lives.
I heard it by the fort.
He's still alive.
''Married''?
You don't know
the meaning
of the word exactly.
But I am.
Sweet wife...
Iove made the bond.
Love can
break it too.
There is that in her
I shall not know.
Your father has sent me.
For each Englishman
I come across,
I am to place a notch
on these sticks.
And to see this God
they speak so much about.
Step aside, mate!
''... homage sweetly pay,
Whilst towering
in the azure sky
They celebrate
this happy day.
Let rolling streams
their gladness show
With gentle murmurs
whilst they play
And in their
wild meanders flow
Rejoicing
in this blessed day.
Kind health descends
on downy wings,
Angels conduct her
on the way.
The New World's Princess
new life brings
And swells our joys
upon this day.''
I think you still
love the man
and that you will not
be at peace
until you see him.
In my vanity,
I thought...
I could make you
love me,
and one cannot
do that,
or should not.
You have walked...
blindly...
into a situation
that you did not anticipate.
You are the man
I thought you were.
And more.
Did I make a mistake
in coming here?
I would have
come before,
except I've been
away from the capital.
Perhaps,
I'm out of order
speaking with you
this way,
but I've thought
of you often.
So after I left,
it went well for you.
I heard the king and queen
received you.
Everybody says you were
a great favorite.
They all speak of you.
One hears them in the streets.
''Her Ladyship.''
Who would have guessed it?
You knew
I had promise,
didn't you?
Yes.
Did you find
your Indies, John?
You shall.
I may have sailed
past them.
I thought
it was a dream...
what we knew
in the forest.
It's the only truth.
It seems as if I were
speaking to you for the first time.
Could we not go home?
As soon as possible.
My husband.
Listen.
Thomas. Where are you?
Mother,
now I know
where you live.
''1 th of April, 1616.''
- Mother. Mother.
- ''Dear son,
I write this
so that someday in the future
you might understand
a circumstance
which shall be
but a far memory to you.
Your dear mother,
Rebecca,
fell ill
in our outward passage
at Gravesend.
She gently reminded me
that all must die.
'Tis enough,'
she said,
that you, our child,
should live.''