03x05 - A Show of Unity

[bunniefuu]

Why would you not want me

to be in a position where I can make

a real change to this country?

I need you here, Albert.

'Previously, on "Victoria"...

We've always fought,

but in the past it would
bring us closer together.

You weren't at dinner.

It was very quiet.

Is my voice so loud?

When it's the only thing I can hear.

You've never met a rule
you didn't want to break.

You sound like my wife.

Everything belongs to me.

Nancy!

I never opened her letter.

Freedom for Ireland!

Mama!

It's a man!

Vicky!

Your Majesty?

Skerrett, yes, I sent for you.

Skerrett.

No, not Skerrett.

Oh, forgive me, Turner, I've, um...

... had a bit of a shock.

Yes, ma'am.

How can I be of service?

The children witnessed nothing
of the att*ck, thank God,

but they did see the man on the ground.

The police say he was Irish.

Big surprise.

What do you mean?

What's the significance
of his being Irish?

We have striven very hard

to resolve the terrible
situation in Ireland.

The undersecretary told me himself,

"The Irish incident is now closed."

He would.

Turner, are you saying my
undersecretary was lying?

No, truly, ma'am, I have no opinion...

Really? Because you
seem to have an opinion

on everything else.

The hunger for food may
have gone away, ma'am,

but the hunger for independence
has only increased.

That... that is what the Irish say

when you talk to 'em.

I should have been with you.

Papa!

Today we had a man try to k*ll us.

I keep telling you,

he couldn't of,

he had no b*ll*ts in his g*n.

Couldn't have, Bertie.

Couldn't have.

Papa is here.

All shall be well.

I, uh, hope it's not inconvenient,

but Mr. Caine is here.

Caine? Ah, yes, yes, yes.

Bertie, you are to have your own tutor.

You did agree.

I agreed in principle.

I didn't agree to you appointing
someone without consulting me.

Well, I met the man in Cambridge.

I think you should warm to him.

Ah,

Mr. Caine.

Mr. Caine.

Your Majesty.

I trust your name

does not presage your preferred method.

I had enough flogging at Eton, ma'am,

to last several lifetimes.

It is not my teaching style.

Why don't I get a tutor?

You have your Aunt Feodora.

Mr. Caine, welcome.

Delighted to meet you,
Your Royal Highness.

I think we should go to Ireland.

For what possible reason?

Because I have a feeling that
the Irish might be right.

Right that it is correct

to thr*aten our children with g*ns?

Right that it is difficult
to respect the authority

of a queen one has never seen.

Heaven knows if I were Irish,

it might dispose me to independence.

Monarchy does not, um...

cannot depend on an obligation

for you to show your face
to every single person.

No British monarch has set foot in Ireland

since the Middle Ages.

That speaks of lack of interest.

Or fear, perhaps.

I shan't be accused of either.

You think I've lost my mind.

No, ma'am, you are intrepid.

But it would be negligent not to remark

that Ireland is a Catholic country.

The famine is enshrined in the culture

as a crime perpetrated
by British Protestants,

the church of which

you're the head, ma'am.

The excursion could involve some danger.

Well, the foreign secretary will ensure

we don't come to any harm.

He has a house there in Sligo --

is that not so, my lord? --

where he keeps his wife.

So he knows the territory,

and he can finesse our
progress accordingly.

It will be an honor

and a, and a privilege.

Ma'am, Ireland is lovely,

and we shall of course accommodate you

at Classiebawn Castle.

May I suggest a modest party for travel?

Is your castle small?

Oh, um...

Ireland is glorious, but poor.

The people will, of course, delight

in seeing their queen
and her immediate family

but may be nonplussed

at the full panoply of the court.

Yes, I agree.

But, um...

surely it is not necessary

for you to extend to us your hospitality.

Oh, my wife will be cranky if I don't.

She'll be cranky because you
keep her squirrelled away

in the country.

There is no squirrelling of Emily, ma'am.

So.

Ireland it is.

I'm sure the moment she
steps on Irish soil,

she will conquer Irish hearts.

Hmm.

Doubtless Palmerston
encouraged her in this.

Since the birth of Louise,

her ability to distinguish good advice

from bad...

That was impertinent of me.

Forgive me.

Perhaps childbirth can cloud her judgment.

But...

but is not something I wish to say to her,

nor think about.

That is because you love her, Albert.

That's so commendable.

What will be my treat for this?

We don't always proceed by treats, Bertie.

There are other incentives.

Look and learn.

The Duchess looks wretched.

What is wrong, do you know?

I think there is presently
some... antipathy

between Sophie and her husband.

I knew it.

It's because I dragged her
off to Osborne without him.

Well, he must come to Ireland.

I shall insist on it.

Your Majesty, Your Royal Highness.

Papa.

Hmm?

Pick a card.

Pick a card?

Very well...

Nine.

Pick another.

The queen.

The queen counts as 12.

Nine multiplied by 12...

equals...

108.

Mr. Caine, that is remarkable.

I take no credit, sir; Bertie told me

how you taught him the alphabet.

I merely improvised upon your theme.

The true achievement is his.

Well, even so.

It is remarkable.

Bertie, you must remain
here with Mr. Caine

to continue your studies

whilst Mamma and I are in Ireland.

Your brother and sisters
will remain here also.

Aunt Feodora will be
here to care for you all.

Duchess,

I have good news.

Allow me, my dear.

Goodbye, Mama; Goodbye, Papa.

Come back soon.

Present arms!

Your Majesty, ma'am.

You are most welcome to County Cork.

It is splendid to be here.

Go back to where you came from!

That's enough, now!

This is our land!

This is Ireland!

Thank you again.

Ma'am, may I presume to ride with you?

It would enable me to point
out sundry items of interest.

Mmm.

Have you been in the
public houses, Palmerston,

securing local enthusiasm?

Sir, that's an extraordinary suggestion.

Do you seriously envisage
me in a public house?

This is our land! Not yours!

Not yours!

This is our land!

Clearly one I missed.

The queen took it into her
head to insist on him coming.

I know, she told me.

I mean, what could I do?

Tell her she was wrong?

My position at the court
is all I have, Emma.

I cannot forfeit it by
disagreeing with her.

Excuse me, ladies,

what have I missed?

We were talking about Emily Palmerston.

Does she resemble her brother?

She is a little like Lord Melbourne, yes.

It's been a while since I saw her.

She was a great force in London

when she was married to Lord Cowper.

He d*ed.

Now she prefers Ireland.

Much to the chagrin of Lord Palmerston.

He pines for her.

Apparently.

This is your park, Lord Palmerston?

Unkempt, ma'am,

but much loved.

Come.

Is her ladyship at home?

Who wants to know?

Her husband.

Your husband, madam.

Your Majesty,

please, may I introduce Lady Palmerston?

Reverend Hannam, ma'am.

Whatever can I do for you, sir?

I am a humble parson, ma'am,

who seeks a preferment in the church.

Specifically the deanship of Ely.

I'll repeat the question.

You are by repute a lady

of the greatest influence, ma'am.

I entreat you to endorse my cause.

You are asking me to help secure

the whatever-it-is of Ely?

I am indeed, ma'am.

For any assistance you can give me,

I should be... excessively grateful.

So you agree with Schopenhauer.

Do I?

That's very clever of me,
I've never heard of him.

He says women lack intelligence

by design.

God, yes.

Consider the Duchess.

Only got to look at her to see

that she's ill-adapted to cogent thought.

Duke, you are ungallant.

That don't make me wrong.

No, it makes you a boor.

O-R-E or O-O-R?

Both.

Either.

O-A-R, perhaps.

Excuse me for saying it, ma'am,

but I think it brave of you

to come to this country.

The Irish are not entirely
predictable in their emotions.

But I hear they were out

for you today en masse.

Oh, well,

not really large gatherings,

but, yes, very enthusiastic.

My husband was not wholly
convinced by what we saw.

Though we saw the same thing.

Well, I saw what we were shown.

Which is

the people who have recently
been ravaged by famine,

who have every reason to hate us,

cheering as our carriage went past.

You reproach the Irish for being friendly?

Will their smiles extend to Dublin?

We shall see.

Is the Duke of Monmouth prone
to perform like a wild pig?

To be frank, ma'am, yes, he is.

And how am I to perform in Dublin?

Your task is to make the Catholic many

know that they belong to
the same United Kingdom

as the Protestant few,

regardless of allegiance to church.

A performance Your Majesty
is eminently capable of.

Will they bray in my face?

Tell me this country is not mine?

I should doubt that, ma'am.

How very subjunctive of you.

The daughter from Lady
Palmerston's first marriage --

it's curious, but she looks exactly

like Lord Palmerston.

Do you endeavor to inform
me with your silence

that she is in fact his child?

That is the general view, sir.

Conceived whilst the mother was
still married to Lord Cowper?

Dear God, we are among barbarians.

You can hear those waves.

Strange woman in my bed.

Lucky you.

Are you hating this?

Not at all.

I can see it's a strain for
you, and I don't like that.

But I'm happy to do my part.

Monmouth.

Monmouth is vile.

But he always was.

That poor girl.

One does feel sorry for her.

Is that all one feels?

Oh, Emily.

That's beneath you.

Just as long as she isn't beneath you.

You have my word.

Good.

Thank you.

Although, I think it shows

an uncharacteristic lapse of taste.

She's very decorative.

It's as though she doesn't own any skin,

she has been flayed.

The only thing that
will repair her is love.

Then you are not the man for the job.

My own darling, I am not.

I confess I'm at a loss.

We went to Scotland for the
adventure of being away.

Are we the same people as we were then?

Why do we see things so differently now?

We are not the same.

I feel no different.

We have six children.

It is a strain.

How is it a strain?

Are we not overflowing with servants?

Not for me.

But for you.

Since the birth of Louise,

you have been making decisions that are...

questionable.

Feodora thinks the same.

Albert, I don't shed part of my brain

every time I have a baby.

Dear God, Albert, what has
she been saying to you?

I was speaking tonight,
and you rolled your eyes.

You were not meant to see that.

When did we start doing things

that the other wasn't meant to see?

What is this?

It's a light wine suitable for breakfast.

You don't care for it?

Ah.

I'm sure Mr. Caine will drink it.

Your Serene Highness.

Come, Bertie, back to work.

On to mathematics now, Bertie.

Do you like Mr. Caine, Aunt Feodora?

He is a domestic servant,

it is not a meaningful question.

do you like Mr. Caine?

Hello?

Is anybody there?

A village without people.

Where are all of the tenants, Alfred?

What has Palmerston done with them?

This is a delightful house.

Thank you, ma'am.

I agree.

It's why I choose to spend
most of my time here.

And yet Lord Palmerston is
always to be found in London.

He is a minister of government, ma'am.

It could not be otherwise.

Is it not painful to be separated

for such long intervals?

Immensely, ma'am.

But it is the rhythm of our marriage.

A cycle of sad partings
and joyous reunitings.

Besides, I have my bees.

Lord Palmerston has no bees.

No, ma'am, he has his collection.

Ah.

I see.

What does he collect?

Other women.

When Henry is away from
me, and he is desirous

of that which men most desire,

he places his boots
outside his bedroom door.

It signifies his availability.

Then, when he comes home, he tells me...

whether or not his invitation was taken up

and by whom.

He tells me everything.

And... do you...

as it were, when he is away?

Place my boots outside my door?

On occasion, ma'am, I have.

As I observe to Henry,

there is only so much
satisfaction to be got

from the keeping of bees.

There is honey, ma'am, and there is honey.

I do find the Palmerstons' marriage

extraordinary.

In certain ways it's,
it's quite like ours.

Not in others.

And what is the matter with you?

The matter's not with me, Victoria.

The matter is with Palmerston himself.

The man is mendacious,
and I despise him for it.

Lunch.

Correct. Enjoy it.

I'm not hungry.

Victoria, he has been having liaisons.

He has.

She told me.

It is a marriage without secrets.

Everything here is a lie

concocted by Palmerston.

He also, I believe --

based on evidence I uncovered today --

has been treating his tenants deplorably.

I know nothing about that.

Liebes, please.

Come down with me.

A show of unity?

How, in your eyes,

does that make us any
less false than our hosts?

Will you walk with me,

Your Grace?

Where are we going, Albert?

There is something you need to see.

My Tess, see, she'd have covered that

in about five seconds.

My mare.

I used to ride her on the sands

at Bamburgh.

What?

I'm imagining you on a horse.

You can be poor and have a horse.

That's not what I meant.

I could do it on foot in... ten?

From where to where?

From there to there, the boat.

So could I.

Ah.

You and me, you know...

we're the same.

We both have no power.

Footman,

duchess,

no power.

I get pushed around by the steward,

you get pushed around by your husband.

What's the odds?

But I tell you this for free, Sophie.

It won't always be that way.

Where's he been sent to school, your son?

"All Monmouths go to Harrow."

My son's going to Eton.

You have a son?

No.

But that's where he's going.

I should like you to kiss me.

I offer you love, Sophie.

Nothing less.

Kiss me.

If one didn't know better,

one might suppose that
was the pouting footman

with the shoulders.

Or do I mistake him?

You do not.

Whoa!

Victoria!

Whoa, whoa, whoa.

Good man. Easy, easy.

Easy.

So sorry to have frightened you!

What in God's name are you doing, man?

f*ring g*ns?

'Tis my job, sir.

I'm Lord Palmerston's gamekeeper.

The name's Magee.

There's never anybody here but
rabbits, me, and the ghosts.

What ghosts?

The villagers were cleared out, so...

His Lordship's a fair man,

but he's no different
from the rest of the gentry

when it comes to the folks.

In comes the famine, out go the peasants.

The gentry's all English,

they don't want to talk
to the starving tenants.

They call 'em dirty Papists.

I travel to Dublin, Mr. Magee,

expressly to address that disharmony.

Huh.

Do you so?

Sure you'll love Dublin.

It's a great city.

Late breakfast, Duchess?

I went for a walk.

Yes, I know.

Forgive me

if I speak bluntly.

But you have an itch...

that you can't quite reach.

And I am anxious

that the person you've
chosen to scratch it for you

is... not appropriate.

So please...

Please, Sophie,

I beg of you, be very careful.

Morning, both.

Henry.

The prince is looking for you.

He's pretty bated.

And you have been where?

I went for a walk on the sands.

Did you?

Did you.

How jolly.

Mind how you go, my dear.

Sir, you wished to see me?

I have been to the village.

Your village.

You do not deny that you have a village?

Well, the physical place, sir, yes,

it's, uh, entailed to the estate.

But there's no one living there now.

That is clear.

Where are they?

New York, mostly.

Explain.

Of course.

When the famine was at its height,

I conferred with the villagers,

and we decided that

it was best that they left
and begun afresh in America.

And I, I enabled them to do so.

That is what you do

with people who you find inconvenient?

You pay them to go away?

They were glad to leave.

They write to me from New
York, often telling me so.

No one paid them to do that.

Nevertheless,

you considered them to be "dirty Papists."

I do not, sir. Who said that I did?

I was told by your own gamekeeper,

Magee.

Magee is no one's gamekeeper, sir.

He is a poacher.

And as a magistrate,

I send him to prison on a regular basis.

I rather like the fellow,

but, um, he does like mischief.

The would-be assassins
that were arrested in Cork,

the men who you chose
not to tell us about,

what of them?

Well, the latest intelligence is that

the fellows were laborers
who had been drinking,

they meant no harm.

You have an answer for everything.

Well, then I am fortunate

that the puzzles you set me

are so easily resolved.

Sorry, ma'am, was there
something you wanted?

Abigail, shush.

Sit down.

Sit.

How do you like Ireland?

I, I like it very well, ma'am.

The people were very friendly.

Are you convinced by it?

Not entirely, ma'am.

You talk to 'em,

they've all got loved ones
who d*ed of the famine.

Some pretty terrible stories, really.

It's a wonder they don't
hate our guts being here.

Yes.

I believe the suffering was very terrible.

The sound of it still echoes, even here.

Dublin will be a day of reckoning.

The shamrock dress, I think.

Lady Palmerston.

Some final words of wisdom.

I offer no wisdom, ma'am.

But I presume to advise you of a sign.

Ronan, the cardinal --

if he speaks sympathetically,

Catholic Ireland will take
a step closer... to us.

I trust I shall see you in London?

Sometime?

My word on it, ma'am.

Lord Pam,

will you lead us on to Dublin?

Ma'am.

Give my regards to your mistress.

Westminster.

I know you can't live without her.

Your Majesty,

may I present Bishop Moberly?

And Cardinal Ronan.

Gentlemen.

We cannot fail to observe --
all of us present here today --

that this is a moment of great poignancy.

I do not mean that the
queen has come to Dublin.

That is something that should
have happened long before now,

and for my lateness, I apologize.

I mean that in your coming here,

Cardinal Ronan,

you bring your church to meet with mine.

And I thank you for the honor.

Your Majesty,

my church salutes you in return.

And as an emblem of determination

that we should all
advance together in peace,

we offer you this gift.

I have not come to
trespass on the authority

of His Holiness the Pope.

I come only to deliver in person

this pledge:

that I shall strive with all my heart

to help your country recover
the strength it once enjoyed

and deserves to know again.

You have given me a dove.

An Irish dove.

This is her land.

This is where she belongs.

Let us send her home.

Good day.

~

~

By God,

we'll make a gentleman of you yet.

So proud of you.

Mama.

Oh, Vicky.

Welcome back.

Ah.

I believe the expedition was a success.

Palmerston did everything

within his power to make it appear

as if everything ran smoothly.

Victoria was persuaded?

A childlike faith in what she's shown.

Mmm.

Oh, could I trouble you for something?

There is a gentleman, a, a cleric,

his name is Hannam.

Hannam,

ah, yes, yes.

Oxford man, a Puseyite.

I've read his work.

He would like to become the Dean of Ely.

Well...

Actually, that's a rather good fit.

Hmm.

Leave it with me.

Gentle Jesus, meek and mild...

Look upon this little child.

Pity my simplicity,
suffer me to come to thee.

Amen.

What's this?

You've got a rash on your arm.

Good night, Mama.

Good night.

I slept very poorly.

I kept thinking about Bertie.

Yes, he has done very well.

He was so unhappy when he
said his prayers last night.

Yes, well, sometimes I
think we set too much store

on happiness, don't you think?

Whatever do you mean?

Well, um, well, yourself,

Victoria.

What, what makes you happy, Victoria?

The adoration of a crowd.

Not this again.

Well, in Dublin, you were supreme.

The crowd cheered, and
your heart was lifted.

But, uh, now you are gone.

Will the Catholic Irish persevere

in their wish to be reacquainted

with their Protestant masters?

Will the masters accept them or snub them?

Or would the whole affair,

has it already been consigned to history?

My presence in Ireland had meaning.

I wish

that I could persuade the Irish
to think and act as you imagine

that they do.

Victoria...

Palmerston,

damn you, look at me!

Have you been f*cking my wife?

I have not, sir.

A little less of that, Monmouth,

and you might yourself
with rather more authority

than you do at present.

I'm not mocked, Palmerston.

There will be retribution.

Is that true, Henry?

I was certain that you'd added

the Duchess to your
distinguished collection.

I did not, sir.

Oh.

Say something.

Ma'am?

Not "ma'am."

Say...

something.

Oh, really, half the
time I can't prevent you

from filling the room with your opinions.

I'm, I'm uncertain...

Dear Turner.

It's not your fault.

I just...

I wish you felt able to
initiate a conversation

without fretting how I might respond.

I think you're right to be worried

about your son, ma'am.

The household is concerned.

Vocative.

Dative.

Ablative.

Ow!

Get out.

Your Majesty, I beseech you...

Of this house!

Allow me to explain the method...

Step away, sir.

You shall not thr*aten

my mother!

You look glum,

Highness.

The tutor has been dismissed.

Inevitably, I shall get the blame.

I did not know the child
was being persecuted.

How could I?

Because you were in loco parentis?

That doesn't interest me.

the unexpected appointment

of George Hannam as Dean of Ely.

New pearls, madam?

Mmm.

You forced me to play my card.

What card is that?

The picture card.

The one that shows you at Osborne,

attempting to ravish
the Duchess of Monmouth.

Your Serene Highness, I
think we might be quits.

I wanted to be

a good father.

I know.

To make such a catastrophic
error in judgment,

it is inexcusable.

Thank God we have no more
children for me to...

damage.

As ever, my timing is impeccable.

Are you sure?

Seventh time of asking.

I'm familiar with the indications.

Liebes, I...

I congratulate you.

I am glad we shall have another child.

Albert,

shall we survive this?

I love you.

We shall try.

'Next time, on "Victoria"...

Gott im Himmel!

What is it?

Bertie will be my legacy.

Can you imagine him as king?

Where the blazes have you been?

The issue is not whether you are liked,

it is whether you are respected.

You have everything, Drina,

and you don't even know how lucky you are!