All language subtitles for The.Crown.S01E07.eng

Your Majesty.

So, it is always the Sovereign
who begins the meal.

It is absolutely forbidden to begin

before he, or she, takes their first bite.

Oui, Mademoiselle.

During the meal,

when it is the first course, you must only
speak to the person seated on your right

until the end.

Time for the Vice-Provost, Lilibet.

Your Royal Highness. Come on.

"There are two elements
of the constitution,"

wrote Walter Bagehot in 1867.

"The efficient and the dignified."

Which is the Monarch?

Your Royal Highness?

- The dignified?
- Very good.

The efficient has the power
to make and execute policy,

and is answerable to the electorate.

What touches all should be approved by all.

The dignified gives significance
and legitimacy to the efficient,

and is answerable only...

- To God.
- Precisely.

Two institutions, Crown and government,

dignified and the efficient,
only work when they support each other,

when they trust one another.

You can underline that.

- Do you teach this to your other pupils?
- No, just you.

This is what I teach them.

These are exam papers.

- Shouldn't I know all of this, too?
- No, ma'am.

All very undignified.

Mr. Einstein has changed his mind again?

Oh?

The scientist.

No, I know who he is.

What exactly
has he changed his mind about?

That's rather less clear to me,

but everyone's making
a tremendous fuss about it.

At the time of my education,
I asked the Vice-Provost

if we shouldn't spend a bit of time
on literature, philosophy, science.

He felt I had enough on my plate as it was.

But don't you think
I should have learned about it?

Why?

Well, doesn't one have a duty
to know certain things?

You have a great many other virtues.
You can't be expected to know everything.

Well, no, that's the point, Mummy.
I know almost nothing.

You know when to keep your mouth shut.
That's more important than anything.

And that would've been fine
if I'd gone on to live a normal life.

But now, I spend so much time
with politicians and statesmen.

You know, I live in dread
of being left alone with them.

Your dear papa, just the same.

Be nice to think that one could,
if not hold one's own,

then at least not have to steer
the conversation

away to dogs and horses every time.

The Prime Minister's on his way, ma'am.

Well, one good thing about this one
is you never have to open your mouth at all.

That's true.

Just smile politely
while he drones on and on.

Your Majesty may or may not be aware,
but this is my retirement year.

Is it really? How long has it been?

Thirty-three years, ma'am,
serving four sovereigns.

One can hardly imagine
the place without you.

Well, it's kind of you to say so, ma'am,
but we're well prepared for the transition.

A deputy's long been groomed
and made ready.

- Two deputies, am I right?
- Yes, ma'am.

- A senior and a junior.
- An heir and a spare.

Quite.

Well, before we discuss any of that,

I'd like you to know how grateful
we all are to you.

- For your years of service.
- Thank you, ma'am.

My father was quite dependent on you.
You know that.

And in our short time together,
I could see how I could be, too.

But you deserve to put your feet up.

And I think I could work quite well
with Martin Charteris.

- Martin Charteris?
- Yes.

I assume you'll give that your blessing.

Martin is the junior deputy private secretary,
ma'am, the spare.

Michael Adeane is the senior.
The rightful heir.

Martin and I have worked together before.

I'm aware of that.

I'm sure that Michael would understand

that I had a pre-existing relationship
with Martin, and not take it personally.

Martin is a younger man.

It's the more natural fit.

If that is Your Majesty's wish.

Prime Minister,
I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting.

- Not at all.
- But I see you've found company.

Yes.

Honey, Sugar, Pippin, say goodbye.
Thank you, Tommy.

Shall we make a start?

One item overshadows every other
on the agenda this week, ma'am.

The Soviets and their H-bomb.

We now have confirmation
that they have been testing

in the Kazakh Desert.

It is vital that we act swiftly
to secure peace,

and vital that we British spearhead
the effort.

I have always been the person
everyone wants in a room with the Russians

because Stalin would only talk to me.

With him gone, there is a great danger

that Eisenhower will take it upon himself
to run the show.

And that would be bad?

Oh, a disaster, ma'am.
For all the obvious reasons.

Of course.

Remind me of the obvious reasons.

Russia

is a great old empire
which demands and deserves respect.

Americans like to wave the big stick,
and speak with a loud voice.

In the matter of world governance,
they are not yet ready.

They need an experienced and elder power

to guide them, school them.

Yes, we could all do with some school.

To that end, I've asked the Foreign Secretary
to go to Washington

to lay plans for a summit meeting
between myself and Eisenhower,

to start discussing a unified approach

for how to bring the Russians
back into the family.

- Do you think he's up to it?
- Eisenhower?

No, the Foreign Secretary.

Anthony is the finest Foreign Secretary
this country has had for generations.

Yes, but I've heard
he's also a very sick man.

I would hate to think
that the country wasn't in safe hands,

being led by healthy men.

We are both fine, ma'am. I assure you.

Early indications are
that the bomb they tested

was a fission and fusion-fueled
Sloika design,

based on lithium-6 deuteride
and uranium-235

with a yield of 400 kilotons.

Khrushchev claims the weapon is ready
for immediate use,

capable of deployment
from a bomber aircraft.

He was bragging about it
to the Presidium last week.

Do we believe that?

Latest CIA intelligence seems to support it,
with the Soviets known to be

ramping up their production
of long-range bomber aircraft...

Are you all right, sir?

My bag, please. Give me my bag.

Can you do this?

Sir, this really
should be done by a doctor.

Just find a vein. Come on!

Well, we can say with confidence
that Joe-4's total yield,

why, was in the range of 400-500 kilotons.

Now, intelligence sources indicate
the Soviets used the layered design

similar to our own
Ivy Mike detonation in '52,

which is consistent with the blast radius.

The British Foreign Secretary.

That, gentlemen, is not just a sleeping man,
it's a sad metaphor.

The second most powerful man

in what was once
the most powerful country on Earth.

What's that on his arm?

Looks like blood, sir.

Good God.

- Colonel Charteris, ma'am.
- Your Majesty.

- You asked to see me?
- I did. Do sit down.

Now, as I'm sure you're aware,

Tommy Lascelles will be leaving us shortly
to begin his well-deserved retirement.

And his departure will leave
something of a gap.

Yes.

And I was wondering whether
you might be interested in filling that gap?

- As what, ma'am?
- My private secretary.

- I'd be delighted, but...
- But what?

What about Michael Adeane?

- What about him?
- He is the natural successor.

I was hoping it might be possible for me
to make my own decision just once.

There are two private secretaries
to choose from.

And I happen to prefer the junior.

Hmm.

So, shall we say that's that?

Yes. I suppose we shall.

- Good.
- Thank you.

Is there anything I can do? In the meantime?

No, no, no. Thank you, Martin.

Actually, Martin...

A tutor.

- Ma'am?
- I'd like to engage one.

- Any particular field?
- General education.

- I'll come up with some names.
- Thank you.

And, Martin, preferably one, you know,
not too stuffy.

Sense of humor.

Understood.

I'm no stranger to pain, Winston,
but this has become intolerable.

I must have corrective surgery.

And this corrective surgery,
must it really be Boston?

That's where the best man is. The only man.

They're better-equipped to deal
with gall bladder problems in America,

due to the high-fat diets they have here.

Leaving me without you
for the summit with Ike.

- Can't you delay it?
- No, I can't.

Besides, you have already stated your ability
to run the ship without me for some time.

In jest, my dear boy,

when you become mutinous
and presumptuous.

You know how much I depend on you.

- I do.
- Well?

But I'd still like to hear you say it again.

What?

I'd like you to say it again, so that

all the people listening in can hear.

You were saying?

That...

I depend on you, Anthony.

What for?

For yourjudgment.

- What else?
- Your integrity and loyalty.

Louder, please.

Yes, all right!
Yes, I need you there, Anthony!

I think we've all agreed, I need you!

And I need the surgery, Winston.
It's my life that's at stake now.

I'm sorry.

Prime Minister. Prime Minister?

Hello?

- What's that?
- Here, Charles. That one.

Look. Look at this.
Do you like my picture?

It's a rocket.
One day it'll take you into space.

- Professor Hogg, Your Majesty.
- Who?

Colonel Charteris said
you were expecting him.

Oh.

Yes.

Where's Mercury?

High up in the sky, Charles.
It's where all the other planets are.

- Your Majesty.
- Professor Hogg.

During the course
of my new daily life,

I have to spend a great deal of time alone
with statesmen.

Men, like yourself,
of exceptional intellect,

who've risen to the very top
of their profession

by virtue of their intelligence
and their ability.

There are frequently times

when I am discussing agendas of the day
with these people

that I find myself, uh,

on the back foot.

At something of a disadvantage.
Because I, um...

I can't keep up.

Or I don't know what lies behind something.

And that's no way to live.

To be uninformed
and entirely at someone else's mercy.

Quite. Which is why I was hoping

that you might help me hold my own,
some more,

feel at less of a disadvantage, fill in...

Uh...

Fill in some of the gaps.

Perhaps Her Majesty would give me an idea
of roughly how far she got?

- When?
- With her education.

In what sense?

Which exams she might have taken
and passed,

that I might better know
at what level to pitch our tutorials.

Um, the Higher School Certificate,
for example.

All right. The School Certificate, then.

No.

Any privately-tutored equivalents
thereof, perhaps?

I see.

Her Majesty the Queen, ma'am.

This is a surprise.

To what do I owe the pleasure?

I came because I wanted to ask you
a question about my education.

What about it?

The fact that I didn't receive one.

You did.

Sewing, needlework,
and saying poems with Crawfie.

That is not an education.

Darling, you also spent years one-on-one

with the Vice-Provost of Eton College.

Being drilled in matters
of the constitution.

Which is far more than your sister ever got.

Mummy, I'm talking about
a normal education, in normal subjects.

You received
an entirely appropriate education

for a woman of your background.

Which has entirely failed to prepare me
for the life I lead now.

We taught you how to be a lady, a princess.
What do you want? A degree?

No one wants a bluestocking
or a college lecturer as Sovereign.

They want a queen.

Yes, a queen who is hopelessly ill-equipped
to deal with the people that she has to meet.

What has this to do with me?

How could you have let me down like this?

Is this a criticism of my motherhood?

Because I would've thought you'd think twice
before throwing stones on that score.

What's that supposed to mean?

I hardly see you blazing a trail
in that department.

That's not fair.

Besides, I thought we were past the age now
where we take cheap shots at our parents.

I educated you as your father and I saw fit.

Why didn't we push harder?

No one advised that we should.
That includes the Vice-Provost.

Oh, don't force something
that doesn't come naturally, dear.

That's what I've learned.

We all have to accept
our limitations in life.

That's it, there. The grace-and-favor flat
belonging to the Queen's private secretary.

- Our new home.
- How much of the ground floor is it?

All of it.
Including the rooms stretching to the back.

The girls will be happy here.

Now, we must go.

- I don't want anyone to see us.
- Why?

Well, it's just indiscreet.

- But I haven't got the job yet.
- What about that tree?

It's blocking all the light.

Well, I daresay one could ask
to have it trimmed back.

Will you ask?

I don't see the rush,
but, yes, I can ask. Discreetly.

Good God.

A stroke, Bobbety,
that's all, a minor stroke.

But I'm on the mend, bouncing back.

Well, you don't look very bouncy to me.

- Who knows?
- No one.

And no one can know, especially the Queen.

What?

I have promised her that the country
will always have a healthy man in charge.

You know me, Bobbety,
I am a man of my word.

But you can't just hide it from her.

I mean, you're head of the government
which runs the country in her name.

Besides, don't you think she'll smell a rat

when no one turns up
at her private audience?

The Palace has been told that I have a cold.

A cold?

Jock, you have my permission
to extend that to the flu.

- Sir.
- But no more.

And what about the meeting
with Eisenhower in Washington?

Alas, as I have been refused
permission to fly,

I am left with no option.

- To postpone it?
- Are you mad?

The Russian situation
could not be more delicately poised,

nor more needing of my influence. No.

We have to get Eisenhower here.

So, you see, Tommy,
there's no other way.

Well, how about the 12th of July?

- I doubt it.
- All right, the 13th?

- I doubt that as well.
- The 14th, then.

I can put it to her, Bobbety,
but I wouldn't hold your breath.

Well, I'll leave it
to your powers of persuasion.

Mm.

Bye.

Sorry to disturb you, ma'am,

but I just had Lord Salisbury on the phone
with an unusual request.

President Eisenhower is due
to meet the Prime Minister in Washington

for summit next week,

but Mr. Churchill's developed a cold,
a nasty cold,

and Lord Moran, his doctor,
has forbidden him to fly.

Now, the feeling is the meeting
is of the utmost importance,

so Downing Street was wondering
whether we might be able to help.

Help how?

By inviting the President here.

Where?

Here, ma'am, to Buckingham Palace,
to a state banquet next week.

The feeling is that, by that time,

Winston should have made
a sufficient recovery.

Well, I was planning on
going to Sandringham.

Hmm. I'm afraid it would mean
postponing that by a few days.

We can extend an invitation
through our ambassador in Washington.

- Is that a green light, ma'am?
- Yes.

Then, if you'll excuse me,
I better get cracking.

Do you have a moment, Tommy?
I need to speak to you on an urgent matter.

I don't, I'm afraid,
I have a state banquet to arrange,

so if it possibly wait until later...

I think when you hear it,
you'll share my sense of alarm.

It seems that Martin Charteris

is to replace you
as Her Majesty's private secretary, not me.

What? Says who?

Says Margaret Colville,
Jock Colville's wife,

who plays bridge with Alice Jameson,
lady-in-waiting,

who, as you may know,
plays tennis with Mary Charteris.

Why on earth would I know that?

Anyway, so confident are they
of the appointment,

- that Mary has even gone so...
- Don't tell me.

So far as to speak
to the Palace head gardener

about trimming the tree outside my window.

Yes.

Ask Martin to come and see me, would you?

That is, if he and his lady wife
are not too busy

measuring carpets and curtains
for what is still my home.

- Right, it's a green light. Jump to it.
- Sir.

- You asked to see me, Tommy.
- I did. Do sit down.

Martin, you've worked at the Palace now,
for what, three years?

I'd have thought that long enough
for you to know the ropes,

understand the rules,
the way things are done.

I think I do.

Manifestly not.

Professor Hogg, Your Majesty.

- Your Majesty.
- Professor.

Ah.

I know you were going to prepare
some tutorials

of a more general nature,

but it seems I'm going to need
some more specific knowledge first.

On which subject?

President Eisenhower.

He'll be coming here in a matter of days,
and I'll be expected

to sit next to him
and make conversation with him.

So, I need to know all about him,
and what interests him.

The military-industrial complex, ma'am.

What?

And its threat to democratic government,
it's what most concerns him.

Something lighter, perhaps?

Golf?

Oh.

- Anything else?
- Oil painting.

- I'm told he paints landscapes.
- Don't they all?

Would Your Majesty give me 24 hours
to do some research and come back to you?

Yes. Of course.

He was baptized, wasn't he?
Just six months ago.

Yes, I think read about that.
A Presbyterian.

Mm.

Did they dunk him, do you think?

Dunk?

A full immersion. In some river.

If I were a gambling man, I'd say yes.

Are you?

Occasionally. The Derby, ma'am,
and the Grand National.

Oh, how did you get on this year?

At the National, rather well.

- I had Early Mist on an each-way bet.
- Oh, well done, you.

You won by 20 lengths.
I share your admiration for Mr. O'Brien,

and everything he's doing
at Ballydoyle Stables.

- Who?
- The trainer.

That's not why you backed him?

No. I just liked the name.

I see.

- Back in 24 hours.
- Thank you.

"I'm so sorry
to hear that in these past days

"you've not been
in your usual good health..."

Isn't that nice?

"...and that your tireless exertions
on behalf of this country

"have resulted
in this temporary inconvenience."

"Temporary inconvenience."

How much does she know exactly?

Because from the tone of this...

Winston.

- She thinks it's a cold.
- A cold?

Yes, a cold. If she knew the truth,
she would bid me stand down.

- Good.
- A replacement would have to be found.

The wrong replacement.
Because the right man...

- Anthony.
- ...is himself incapacitated.

Too much knowledge
can be a dangerous thing.

Do you mean to tell me that, at the moment,

this country's without a fit leader
or a deputy leader?

- Not so loud.
- But...

Come.

Good news, sir. It's a yes from Eisenhower.

You were right,
an invitation from the Palace

has proved impossible
for the Americans to refuse.

They've changed his schedule,
and we're going to make it work.

- That's wonderful news!
- Don't get out of bed, Winston.

- That's wonderful!
- No, don't get out of bed, darling.

Don't get out of bed.

If Ike comes here, I can be leader again.

- Winston...
- That's what really matters.

Getting me and Ike in the same room,
so that he and I can...

Do go back to bed.

...get on with building a real
and lasting peace with the Russians!

Darling, look, why don't you admit the truth,
that you have been fighting for your life

and tell the Queen?

Winston?

- How serious is it this time?
- It's impossible to know.

I fear we do now
have to put off the Americans.

Yes, of course.

And tell the Queen.

No. No, we're in too deep now for that.

If Eisenhower isn't coming,
blame it on him, not on Winston.

The Queen must never know
how much we've kept from her.

Prepare for inspection!

- Sorry to disturb you, ma'am.
- Mm?

I've been asked by Downing Street
to inform you first

that President Eisenhower
is no longer able to leave the United States

owing to a political crisis at home.

Oh.

Well, that's a relief.

And that the Prime Minister
still hasn't shaken off his cold,

and will not be attending
today's private audience.

Really? Goodness.

That's the second consecutive
private audience that he's missed.

- It's most unlike him.
- Yes, isn't it?

Are you all right, Martin?

Your Majesty, I've had the opportunity

to think about your very kind offer
to become your private secretary.

And I'm afraid I must decline.

Why?

In this instance, I really do believe
you'll be better served by Michael.

No, you don't.

Ma'am?

You don't think that.

Nor could you ever think that.

For the very good reason that it's not true.

Have you been spoken to
by Tommy Lascelles?

- Ma'am...
- You have.

And what did he have to say?

That I should've refused the offer
in the room.

That I obviously have no respect
or understanding

for Palace tradition and protocol,
and that it must be Michael Adeane.

Did he now?

Would you excuse me for a moment, Martin?

Come.

Oh.

- Your Majesty.
- Look, Tommy.

There's no pretty way of saying this.
I would prefer Martin.

And that is your right, ma'am.

Yes. And I rather thought so, too.

But it would be a mistake.

And why is that?

Please.

There's a way of doing things here.

An order developed over time, generations.

And individuality in the House of Windsor,

any departure from that way of doing things,
is not to be encouraged.

It results in catastrophes like
the abdication.

Abdicating the throne
and choosing my private secretary

is hardly comparing like with like.

I disagree.

I served your uncle, as you know.

And it's in the small things that
the rot starts.

Do the wrong thing once,
it's easier to do it again.

Do the individualistic thing once,
it is easy to do it again.

Now, in the case of your uncle,
it started with wanting to use

Buckingham Palace simply as the office,
and York House as his home.

Then he stopped attending church,
decided he wanted to sell Sandringham.

He dismissed courtiers
who'd served under his father

in favor of younger,
sycophantic supplicants.

Of course,
no one saw the abdication coming then,

but the ego, the willfulness,
the individualism,

the rot had set in.

Martin and I have an understanding.

I don't deny it.

It would make me feel as if I had an ally,

friend almost,

in what can sometimes feel like a very...

Well...

The next in line,
and the senior of my two deputies,

and the natural heir is Michael.

- Your man.
- The right man.

But, as always,
the final say is with you, ma'am.

Thank you.

Just had the Palace on the phone,
requesting a private audience this afternoon.

It seems the Queen wants to see you, sir.

Me?

So, what's all this about, Patrick?

- I don't know, sir.
- Can't you give me a clue?

Mr. Colville, Your Majesty.

- You asked to see me, Your Majesty?
- Yes, Jock.

You were my private secretary for two years
before Martin Charteris.

I was.

And it was my impression
that we always had a good understanding,

and were able to speak openly
with one another.

- Yes, of course.
- And trust one another.

Speak plainly when matters
of real importance came up.

And before Her Majesty says anything else,
let me just say how sorry I am.

It's been agony.

I tried to stop them,
I told them my opinion,

but they were so insistent
we keep it from you.

After the second one, I really was
of a mind to let you know the truth.

- Second what?
- Stroke, ma'am.

But they insisted again,
everyone keep it quiet, say nothing.

I see.

And who was it that was doing the insisting?

Lord Salisbury, ma'am.

And the Prime Minister himself,
on the rare occasions he was conscious.

I see.

That is what you asked me here to discuss?

No.

I asked you here to discuss
whether I should take Michael Adeane

for my private secretary,
rather than Martin Charteris.

But what you've just told me
is far more important.

- No.
- Yes.

The slippery old so-and-sos.

It's rather worse than slippery,
wouldn't you say?

Somewhat unconstitutional.

What are you going to do?

Nothing, of course. That's my job.

- Do nothing, and stay silent at all times.
- Is it?

From memory, and forgive me, ma'am,
it's a while since I read Bagehot,

but in circumstances such as these,
is it not also your duty to act?

I doubt it. I'd have to check.

I think you know precisely.

Yes, it is.

But I can't just summon the brightest,
most formidable men in the country,

and give them a dressing-down,
like children.

Why? You are in the right,
they in the wrong.

Yes, but they're far more intelligent
than I am.

Any confrontation, they'd out-debate me,
out-think me and out-maneuver me.

But this isn't about education
or intelligence.

This is about integrity and principle.

Ma'am, you say you don't have what it takes
to do battle with these people.

You do.

You were drilled for years
in the finer points of our constitution.

You know it better than me,
better than all of us.

You have the only education that matters.

So, what would you have me do?

Summon them,

and give them a good dressing-down,
like children.

Why would they stand for that?

Because they're English, male
and upper class.

A good dressing-down from Nanny
is what they most want in life.

Unconventional to the end, Professor.

Thank you, Professor.

I'm afraid I urgently need something
from Windsor Castle.

At least I think it's at Windsor.

It might be at Sandringham. Or Balmoral.

- Or it might be here.
- Ma'am.

Lord Salisbury, please.

If you wouldn't mind, Prime Minister.

Ma'am.

It has come to my attention
that for a period of time last week,

my Prime Minister was incapacitated.

And the Foreign Secretary, too.

And that you colluded
in keeping that information from me.

- Your...
- No, it is not my job to govern.

But it is my job
to ensure proper governance.

But how can I do that

if my ministers lie and plot
and hide the truth from me?

You have prevented me from doing my duty.

You have hampered and bamboozled
the proper functioning of the Crown.

How could you?

My own late father valued you greatly.

He believed the phrase,
"History teaches, never trust a Cecil,"

deeply unfair.

Perhaps not.

You may go.

Prime Minister.

Please.

The Prime Minister, Your Majesty.

Your Majesty.

Winston.

I am just a young woman,
starting out in public service.

And I would never presume to give a man
so much my senior,

and who has given this country so much,

a lecture.

However,

you were at my coronation.

I was.

And you therefore heard for yourself
as I took the solemn oath

to govern the people of my realms

according to their respective laws
and customs.

Now, one of those customs

is that their elected Prime Minister should be
of reasonably sound body and mind.

Not an outrageous expectation,
one would've thought.

No.

But it seems that you have not

been of sound body and mind
these past weeks.

And that you chose
to withhold that information from me.

A decision which feels like a betrayal,
not just of the covenant of trust

between us and the institutions
that we both represent,

but of our own personal relationship.

In 1867, Walter Bagehot wrote,

"There are two elements of the constitution,

"the efficient and the dignified.

"The Monarch is the dignified,
and the government, the efficient.

"These two institutions only work
when they support each other,

"when they trust one another."

Your actions, your breaking of that trust

was irresponsible,

and it might have had serious ramifications
for the security of this country.

Is your health better now?

- It is.
- Good.

But is it sufficiently better?

Fit for office better?

I would ask you to consider your response

in light of the respect
that my rank and my office deserve,

not that which my age
and gender might suggest.

Ma'am,

I look at you now, and I realize

that the time is fast approaching
for me to step down.

Not because I am unwell,
or unfit for office,

but because you are ready.

And therefore I have discharged my duty
to your father.

With your blessing and your forgiveness,

I shall continue to serve
as the leader of Your Majesty's government.

Your Majesty.

Hello?

Hello.

- Where have you been?
- Oh.

Charity cricket bash
for the National Playing Fields Association.

Spent some time at the airfield,
doing some rolls.

No Cabinet approval. Don't tell anyone.

What are you dressed for?

Haven't you heard?
We've a state banquet this evening.

Haven't you heard? It's been canceled.

Christ. Why doesn't anybody
tell me anything?

Well, perhaps if you were here more.

I've read two books
on Eisenhower especially.

- Have you really?
- No.

You look nice.

- Do I?
- Something's different.

- What?
- I don't know. You seem...

I advise you to choose your next words
very carefully.

Taller, somehow.

Or is it just that I've shrunk?

There's nothing shrunken
about you, dearest.

Where are you going?

I've got an appointment
with my new private secretary.

Oh, God. Tell him to bugger off.

I can't do that.

And do what instead?

Two options,

either I get some stilts, so I can reach
the heights of my new, tall woman...

Or?

Or,

she could get on her knees.

Major Adeane, Her Majesty requests
that your appointment might wait.

- I see.
- Until tomorrow.

Right.