All language subtitles for The.Crown.S01E08.eng

Ask my daughters to come and see me.

Yes, ma'am.

Girls, it's too soon.

I can't do it.

I'm not strong enough.

That's why you have
two grown-up daughters

to step in for you in situations like this.

I'll do it.

Thank you, but that makes no sense.

The speech is for Papa about Papa.
I would like to do it.

It's right I do it.

You don't enjoy
public speaking, whereas I do.

- And I was Papa...
- What?

Favorite?

- Well, are you going to deny it?
- Your father didn't have a favorite.

He adored you both.

Did so equally.

As any good father would.

Mummy, you decide, then,
as head of the family.

But she's not head of the family.

I am.

And I will make the speech.

- Ma'am.
- Thank you.

Thank you.

"Six years ago,

"I heard the moving words
which my father spoke

"when he unveiled the statue
of King George V.

"I did not think then that
in so short a time

"I should be called to take his place.

"But it is with pride
that I unveil this noble statue today."

Here you are, ma'am.

Ma'am...

We have been flagging our concern
for some time.

These latest events, internationally,
merely strengthen our view.

But sending the Queen
on this forthcoming tour,

in the current climate,

would be to put the Sovereign in
an unacceptable level of danger.

What is it you would have the Queen do?
Stay at home

in the wake of minor incidents
prosecuted by an insurgent rabble?

What kind of signal would that send?
The Crown does not back down.

If Britain had made a habit of backing down,

the world would already be
living under the yoke of fascist tyranny,

and we wouldn't have an empire at all.

Then might I suggest
we bypass Gibraltar altogether?

It's an approach
which I would favor, too.

She's not ready for something on this scale.

She's not yet up to it.

Especially with so many of our dominions
demanding independence.

We must be considerate of her.

- Patronize her.
- No, that's not what I'm saying, sir.

Yes, it is.

Bermuda, Jamaica, Australia,
Ceylon, Uganda.

It's going to be hot, Your Majesty.

To that end, we've been working
a great deal with organza,

crepe de Chine and shantung silk.

We also wanted to feature
something particular to each location,

so we thought sprigs of native wildflowers

indigenous to each country
that you're visiting.

So, on Her Majesty's arrival in Sydney,

we propose a white organza dress
scattered with pale yellow wattle blossom.

How many dresses are there?

- One hundred.
- One hundred.

- And hats?
- Thirty-six.

- Pairs of shoes?
- Fifty.

Isn't this all a bit much?
Couldn't we try to economize?

It is. It was a directive
from the government itself,

from the very top of the government.

To put our best foot forward
for Great Britain.

Our very best foot.

It is an absurd pantomime, the whole thing.

I don't know why anyone can't see beyond it.

I don't know. Actually, I thought
the old ostrich feathers rather suited you.

- You should wear those more often.
- Up straight, please.

Twenty years ago,
Britain had influence and control

over one-fifth of the world's population.

You look where we are now in India,

Pakistan, South Africa,

Iraq, Jordan, Burma, Ceylon.

All independent.

But nobody wants to face it or deal with it,

so they send us out
on the Commonwealth roadshow.

Like giving a lick of paint
to a rusty old banger

to make everyone think it's all still fine,
but it's not.

The rust has eaten away
at the engine and the structure.

The banger is falling apart.

But no one wants to see it.

That's our job, that's who we are.

A coat of paint.

If the costumes are grand enough,

if the tiara's sparkly enough,

if the titles are preposterous enough,

the mythology incomprehensible enough,
then all must still be fine.

- Are we nearly finished yet?
- Not quite, sir.

Four hours we've been here already
for a costume fitting.

Uniform, sir, not costume.

You wear uniforms to battle.
This is a costume fitting.

It's just a formality, Your Majesty,

confirming your temporary assumption
of duties as Counselor of State

while Her Majesty is abroad.

You are so kind to still look after me
from your retirement.

How much is still in the diary?

Well, I went through it with Major Adeane,

and we tried to throw out
as much as we could,

but there will still be the usual
Privy Council meetings of course,

some investitures and military inspections.

Couldn't we give some of it
to Princess Margaret?

I'm just thinking
she's had a tough time of it lately.

Being allowed to shine a bit
might be good for her.

Get her back on track.

Besides, I had rather hoped
to disappear up to Scotland for a while.

And Margaret could deputize for me.

The office is
tucked away in a remote part of the embassy

where no one will see me,
no one will find me.

- What do you do all day?
- Nothing!

They can't keep you there
and give you nothing to do.

I beg to differ. Nothing is all I do.

Are you at least alone in the office?

Oh, no, Sergeant Hewitt is here.
He's just walked in.

- Can he hear you?
- Oh, yes.

- Does he watch you?
- Oh, yes.

- Is that the point of Sergeant Hewitt?
- It is the only point.

Oh, how awful.

Well, it's not forever.

Feels like it though.

Two years.

Without you to protect me, guide me...

You know, I feel quite
unanchored without you.

Yes, but it's what we agreed to do,
to help your sister.

Then we shall be free.

Well, that's it. That's me off.

See you when you're back from the tour in...

Twenty-three weeks.

- Well, call me if you need anything.
- Yes.

You won't, of course.

- You don't need me anymore at all.
- Yes, of course I do.

No, you don't. Neither of you does.

I have two grown-up daughters

quite capable
of looking after themselves now.

Who is it that you're staying with?

The Vyners.
Up in Caithness at the Northern Gate.

Dunnett Head.

Goodness. That's the end of the Earth.

Yes. A chance to really get away
from it all.

Have a good think.

About what?

Everything.

Well, don't think too much or too deeply.

Just gets one in a muddle.

By the way, I've arranged for Margaret

to deputize for me, while I'm gone,
as Head of State.

Why?

Well, someone needs to do it.

Can't have people
turning up for knighthoods

and some civil servant handing them out.

- Well, if you think she's up to it.
- Up to what?

Standing still, looking pretty and putting
a sword on a few people's shoulders?

- And presumably making speeches?
- Which will be written for her.

And turning up on time.

I believe there are people
who will get her where she needs to be.

And behaving herself.

She will be fine.

And you, if you'll allow me
for just one moment?

- Please.
- You need to give Margaret some room.

Some space in which to shine.
She needs to shine, that one.

And, as elder sister,

you ought to be confident
and generous enough to respect that.

I am.

Are you?

On your knees.

- Is that absolutely necessary?
- Of course!

I want to be sure I know what I'm doing
before you go.

All right.

I hope you have a steady hand.

You seem uncharacteristically jumpy.

Guilty conscience, perhaps?

- Why should I have a guilty conscience?
- Have a think.

If you mean Peter and his posting...

Banishment.

...that wasn't my doing.

I was simply acting
on the government's advice.

The idea came from your henchman,
Tommy Lascelles.

- Now, that's a little firm.
- Was it?

- Yes. And it's the flat edge, remember?
- Oh...

Sorry.

- So, how is he?
- Peter? He's getting on with it.

Uncomplainingly.

Because that's what strong men do.

But it's a lonely existence in Brussels.

No real job, stuck in a small flat,
followed by photographers,

and to steer clear of all the parties,
steer clear of all the traps.

- What traps?
- The traps being set for him.

Those who would wish to lead him astray.

Catch him in a compromising position.

Those who would cheer
the dissolution of our friendship.

- Margaret, you're imagining things.
- Am I?

Yes. And anyway, it's not for much longer.

Two years?

Yes, but the first three or four months
will fly by

while you're kindly filling in for me.

- I'll try not to upstage you.
- How kind.

I can't promise
I won't bring my own character to it.

Well, I never expected anything less.

That's the advantage
having a character to bring.

Too much character, an excess of character.

Now, look at me and tell me
you didn't say that without a little bit of envy.

Just remember
who you're standing in for when I'm gone.

My characterless sister.

Your Queen.

Not a showgirl.

...introduced to the
people of Bermuda for the very first time.

The royal couple then fly to Jamaica.

An enormous crowd gathered here
on a particularly lovely night.

The last time
you departed on this tour,

it was cruelly cut short
by the death of your dear father.

In his final months,
the King told me many times

that he could feel it all slipping away.

The empire, our place in the world.

He saw this tour as a chance
to keep each dominion close,

preserving that empire.

So, take him with you in spirit. Let his...

Let his example guide you,
his thoughts influence you.

- I will.
- And if I may...

Never let them see
the real Elizabeth Windsor.

The cameras, the television.

Never let them see
that carrying the Crown is often a burden.

Let them look at you,

but let them see only the eternal.

Thank you, Winston.

Your Majesty.

Well done! You made it!

If it was easy to come here,
everybody would.

Thank God it isn't, and they don't.

- Will you want a rest?
- Certainly not.

I've been sitting for hours.
I want a nice, long walk.

Or, better still, a ride.

Go on. Go get him.

Ah, Scotland, the beauty.

I'd almost forgotten what it feels like
to have the spirits lifted.

Well, you're welcome to stay any time
to get away from it all.

You'd soon grow sick of me.
You know what they say, guests and fish.

Or you could become a neighbor.

There's a castle along the coast for sale.

They're threatening to tear it down.
The owner can't afford to keep it up.

Chap called Imbert-Terry. Strange fellow.

Rumor is that, on occasion,

he sings to the seals
that swim past the castle.

How queer.

Has it been very difficult?

It has.

I don't want to sound self-piteous,

but loss has followed loss.

First and foremost, the loss of a husband.

Then the loss of a home,

having to leave the palace.

The loss of motherhood
as daughters become adults.

Loss of a routine, a sense of purpose.

The loss of the Crown.

Imagine 17 years' experience as Queen,
of being the head of the family.

Bertie was a wonderful husband and father,
but he needed a great deal of help as King.

And then we lose him,

and at precisely the moment
when they should be giving me more to do,

stop me falling into despair,
they take it all away.

They take it all away.

They put it all into the hands of a girl
who's totally unequipped for it.

I'm so sorry. So sorry.

"Bermuda will always have
a distinguished position

"within the British Commonwealth.

"A position which will, I trust,
remain unshaken

"by the storms
through which the world is passing.

"My husband and I have been deeply touched
by the welcome we have received here.

"Bermuda holds and will always hold

"a warm place in our hearts."

May God bless you all.

I thought that went well, ma'am.

Message delivered loud and clear, I'd say.

Hmm. "Stay loyal or die." Is that it now?
Can we knock off?

I'm afraid not, sir.

Without wishing to rush you, ma'am,

we do need to move on
as quickly as possible.

Yes, of course.

Your Majesty?

So sorry, ma'am,
I really can't manage any faster.

- Please don't worry.
- Ready for you, ma'am.

Give her a chance!

I'm in the navy again.
Eight minutes. Not nine, not seven.

It's from there to the next location,
where you'll make a speech

to ex-servicemen at the Royal Yacht Club,

then by ferry to visit a school near
Mangrove Bay on the west of the island.

Then you will host a garden party here
at the Governor's house...

Right.

...for 1,000 or so guests,

where we're hoping to find a moment
for the ceremonial planting of a tree.

Will we find a moment
during any of this to use the lavatory?

I do hope tomorrow's better.

I'm afraid not, sir.

Up at 4:30 for a 6:00 a.m. flight
to Jamaica.

Ugh.
Here we go again, waving like lunatics.

Oh, God.

With any luck, one day,
they'll all own television sets,

and they won't come out like this again.

Ma'am, sir,
just before we take off,

I thought I might go through the itinerary
for our first day in Jamaica.

- Goody.
- Yes. Do sit down, Michael.

Thank you.

We arrive at noon

to be greeted
by the Governor and representatives

of the West Indian islands.

A guard of honor will be formed
by the Jamaican Constabulary...

This is the picture
we shall never forget in Jamaica.

The lovely lady and the tall,
handsome figure of the sailor, her husband.

So near to all the children
that they can almost be touched.

So graceful and so near...

Colonel Charteris thought
you might like to see the speech

for tomorrow night, ma'am.

- Give you a chance to prepare.
- Thank you.

Oh, dear.

- Would you bring me a pencil, please?
- Ma'am?

And ask Colonel Charteris if he'd be so kind
as to come and see me in the morning.

From all over the West Indies,

people have come here today
for this ceremony...

...expressing their loyalty to her.

- Good morning, sir.
- Good morning.

- Come in, Martin.
- Your Royal Highness.

The speech for
the ambassadors' reception tonight.

Yes, ma'am?

This was written for my sister.
Very well written.

- Thank you.
- Manifestly for her.

In her register, reflecting her character,
if that's the right word.

As we both know,
I have a different character.

Indeed.

And since I shall be deputizing
for my sister tonight,

I was wondering if I might make
one or two minor adjustments to the text?

- Ma'am?
- Give it a bit more color.

Make it feel a bit more like me
and breathe a little life into it.

I'm sure Her Royal Highness appreciates it.

There'll be important people
at the reception tonight.

Different backgrounds,
different sensibilities.

The speech has been carefully calibrated
to avoid giving offense.

And I'd suggest to avoid entertaining, too.

It's not the Sovereign's place to entertain.

- And I'm not the Sovereign.
- I understand that,

but you will be there in her place.

What about the State Diadem tiara?
Or the Cambridge Lover's Knot?

Those are Her Majesty's
and for state occasions.

Her Majesty won't mind.

Besides, are people not coming tonight
expecting to meet a queen?

- Yes.
- Shouldn't we be giving them one?

Your Excellencies,

I am delighted to be here tonight,
deputizing for my sister, the Queen,

who is fortunate enough to be
on her travels,

somewhere between Bermuda,
Jamaica and Fiji.

Distracted, no doubt,

by waving fields of sugar cane
and graceful palms,

by deep blue water
beyond white coral sands,

by dramatic green hills,
thick with vegetation,

and the subtle rhythms
of dancing and singing.

But more vivid, more brilliant even,

than the colors of those lovely islands
or the echoes of that music

or the welcome
of cheerful and friendly people,

wherever my sister may travel,

is what I see as I look out
from this stage tonight.

As I look out at all of you tonight,

my, don't you all look wonderful.

And shimmering.

And positively exotic.

And what fine company
we have here tonight!

Our ambassador
to the United States of America,

Sir Roger Makins.

The only honest thing
to come out of Washington.

Our dashing ambassador
Alec Kirkbride in Libya.

This one's single, ladies.

And of course Sir Charles Peake
and his wife from Greece.

A country
which has brought us many things.

Philosophy, democracy,

my brother-in-law.

So, to all of you I say welcome!

As a rule, the food here is pretty ordinary,
the wine is usually rather good.

And I have made sure there is plenty of it.

So, I have no doubt
we will have a wonderful evening.

Thank you.

It felt so good.

My sister talks all the time
of how she isn't suited to it, well,

- I was born for it.
- I know.

Afterwards, I told them

to put as many engagements in the diary
as they like for the next few months.

Investitures, the Royal Ballet,
the debutantes ball.

Well, why not?

Couldn't you come watch me in action?

Just once.

If I thought it were without risk,
I would in a flash,

but if the papers get hold of it...

Darling, papers love us.

The people are for us.

Hmm.

In their eyes, we can do no wrong.

There will be no sleeping, sir,
there's a civic hall to visit.

Not to mention the ribbons to be cut.
And the lunches to be consumed.

- Ready?
- No. Almost. You go ahead.

Just give me a moment, please, gents.
I'll be right with you. Okay? Thank you.

Right.

What's the matter?

There was an ambassadors' reception
in London last week.

Apparently, Margaret was dazzling
and brilliant.

Would you have preferred
she make a mess of it?

No.

Perhaps.

- Is that awful of me?
- Yes.

Well, now you know,
you didn't marry a saint.

I knew that. But I wouldn't worry,
I have great faith in her.

- In Margaret?
- In her ability to mess things up.

- In the long run.
- Or outshine me.

- And mess things up.
- And outshine me.

That's unlike you.

I'm sorry.

You know, there is a danger
we might be overdoing it.

Perhaps it would be prudent

to take a few things out.

I mean, 57 Australian towns in 58 days.

Maybe we don't visit all of them.

No.

No.

We keep every appointment.

No cancellations. Not one.

I'm afraid the day does hold
some challenges, ma'am.

The route's 10 miles,
and the streets are already packed.

- Well, how long will it take?
- I've allowed two hours.

Two hours? In 100-degree heat?

I could ask them to increase
the planned driving speed a little.

- But I think the horses might struggle.
- No, we'll be fine. Thank you.

Here she is at last, amongst us.

Charming our people in city after city.

Afternoon in Sydney first.

Then, good-hearted Adelaide.

On to venerable Hobart,

nestling at the cool feet
of Mount Wellington.

That's it. The Castle of Mey.

Isn't she bonny?

Oh.

Yes.

And what a view.

Captain Imbert-Terry.

Commander Vyner.

Lady Doris, and, uh...

We've met.

- I don't think so.
- Yes, yes.

Yes. Your face, it's very familiar.

Don't say a thing, it'll come to me.

- May we come in?
- Yes, yes.

Well, if you were to be interested
in the property,

I'm going to be entirely honest.

The roof does need a bit of work.

One or two windows might need replacing,

and the electricity does need,
well, installing.

And there's no dining room to speak of,
nor bathrooms.

And I've sold off
most of the good shooting and fishing.

Oh, dear. You're really not a salesman.

In fact, the place is in such a state,
I'd sooner make a gift of it.

I'm afraid I'd be quite unable to accept.

Why not?

It'd be frowned upon.
Something to do with who I am.

You're an actress. A famous film star.

- No.
- A singer, then.

No.

It's on the tip of my tongue.

It dates back

to the mid-17th century.

It was in the same family
for 14 generations.

We bought the place in 1929,

and my wife and I
had 11 very happy years here.

But then war came and the place...

The solution is obvious.

- Stop smiling.
- No.

The trouble is I have the sort of face
that, if I'm not smiling,

then everyone says, "Isn't she cross?"

No, that's not...
Look, what do you think, Doctor?

It's a spasm. The muscles are overworked.

Rest ought to fix it, though.

- Like I said. Stop smiling.
- No.

I have an engagement this evening.
So, what can be done?

Well, I could inject
the affected area with a relaxant.

You'd have to watch yourself
with soup, though.

You might find you have less control
chewing and drinking.

And it's not a long-term solution.

Oh.

- All right. I'll have the injection.
- Oh, good God.

What, and dribble soup all over your dress?

Do you know,

the other night I woke up with my right arm
out from under the bedclothes.

Do you know what I'd been doing?

I'd been waving to the crowds in my sleep.

Right.

Hold still, please, Your Majesty.

American planes,
guns and ammunition

are helping the French and Vietnam forces.

Russian and Chinese weapons
are aiding the Viet Minh.

Princess Margaret dons white overalls

when she visits Calverton Colliery
in Nottinghamshire.

Her visit to the coalface
a quarter of a mile underground

is included in her tour of the colliery,

which is recognized as one of
the most modern in Europe.

After almost an hour underground,
the Princess brings back a souvenir,

a piece of coal she hewed herself.

Did you enjoy the mining,
Your Royal Highness?

I did, very much.
Although it was jolly dusty down there.

Some even went into my mouth,
but I can assure you it tasted delicious.

Having experienced the conditions,

do you have sympathy
for the miners that work there?

One couldn't fail
to have sympathy for anyone

who has to spend
their working life down there.

It's intolerably dark and hot and cramped.

To my eyes, it seemed conditions
are still very perilous

for these poor, brave men
who work underground for so very little.

What would you say
to the authorities regarding the matter?

Ah...

- I have nothing further to say.
- Who's the coal for?

I have someone very special in mind.

Group Captain Townsend?

Are you missing him?

Yes, I am. Very much.

And are you missing your sister,
Her Majesty the Queen?

Not quite as much, no.

- Why on earth did you say that?
- What?

- That you missed me.
- I did. I do.

- I know, but that wasn't wise.
- Why not?

Darling,

you can't use a public occasion
to take a dig at your sister like that.

- Don't you start, too.
- It's just the Palace won't like it.

And we need the Palace on our side.

Who is it you think
you'd be letting down, anyway? A koala?

This whole thing is a circus.
It's a miserable circus.

Trudging from town to town,
and we're the dancing bears.

- What are you doing?
- I'm taking back this small pleasure.

- You've taken away too much.
- No, no, no! Those things will kill you!

Yup.

Forty a day your father smoked,
and now I know why. Poor bastard.

He probably took one look at this tour
and thought,

"You know what?
I'll be better off with cancer."

Shut up!

What is it you're trying to prove?

What is it you want to hear him say?

"Bravo, Lilibet. Managed the whole tour.

"Lilibet never lets you down.
Ticked every box.

"Never put a foot wrong.

"Now, finally,
I love you more than I love Margaret."

- Out! Get out! Get out!
- What are you doing?

- Get off me, woman. Oh, Christ!
- Get out!

- Philip! Don't you dare come back here!
- Don't be ridiculous! Christ!

- Let me go and have a word.
- No.

I'll do it.

I'm sorry for that little interlude.

Although I'm sure
it must happen in every marriage.

Now, what would you like me to do?

For your newsreel?

Another gift for Your Majesty.

Thank you.

Your Royal Highness,

when you appear in public
performing official duties, you are not you.

Of course I'm me.

Expressing political opinions
about working conditions in mines,

that business at Sadler's Wells.

And no one wants you to be you,
they want you to be it.

A statue? A thing?

The Crown. That's what they've come to see.
Not you.

The minute you become yourself,
you shatter the illusion, break the spell.

What people want is someone to inhabit it.

Not be frightened of it.
Make it flesh and blood. Bring it to life.

Your uncle, Edward VIII,
threatened to do just that,

impose his individuality on the institution.

"Bring it to life."

And he almost destroyed it in the process.

You can't seriously be comparing this
to the abdication?

No, but I've decided that all remaining
royal engagements in the Queen's absence

should be carried out by the Queen Mother.

- My mother is in Scotland.
- So I gather.

But I've sent someone to bring her back.

Right away.

Your Royal Highness.

We said 11:00.

- What time is it now?
- Well, it's nearly noon.

Goodness, and I set off in such good time.

- You come along the coast?
- I did.

You didn't factor in the wind.

- You were into the wind this morning.
- Wasn't I just?

- The good news is you'll fly back.
- Oh...

I've had a chance to do some thinking.

I've spoken to my lawyers
and I've come up with a sum

that I think is a fair price
for this magnificently-situated castle.

Yes, yes, go on.

Brace yourself.

£100.

- What?
- I'm sorry. Is that too dear?

- No, it's absurd.
- On the contrary, it's entirely fair,

given it'll end up costing you
tens of thousands.

- Are you sure?
- No.

The question is, are you sure?

I am.

All right. Congratulations.

- I hope you'll be very happy here.
- Thank you. I have a feeling I will be.

I can get the place cleared out inside
a week.

Only if you've somewhere to go.

I do. My sister's
a few miles down the coast.

Now, will I walk you back to the Vyners?
Downwind?

That'd be lovely.

Your Majesty,
forgive me for disturbing you.

I come from the Prime Minister.

He asks that you return
to London immediately.

- Whatever for?
- This is all the information that I have.

It seems I must go.

Oh, my God.

It's finally come to you.

Why on earth didn't you say, ma'am?

Because people always make such a fuss.

And stop being themselves.

And you would've doubled the price.

Spoken like a true Scotswoman.

Now, my speech at Valletta.

There was one adjustment
that I would like to make.

I would like to refer to Malta
as "my island of happy memories."

Mmm...

Very good, ma'am.

I shall have the text retyped
for your approval.

Thank you.

Ma'am, there do remain
some security concerns about Gibraltar.

What concerns?

Death threats were sent to all the leaders
of the major political parties,

telling them that,
if our tour were to go to Gibraltar,

our safety can't be guaranteed.

I told them we should pull out.

- Why?
- What do you mean "why"?

Because I don't much fancy shuffling
the streets of Gibraltar like a sitting duck.

No.

Pulling out at this late hour
would make us look weak.

And it would be a great disappointment
to the people of Gibraltar.

- I say we go.
- I say we don't.

I am aware that I am surrounded by people

who feel that they could do the job better.

Strong people with powerful characters,
more natural leaders,

perhaps better suited to leading
from the front, making a mark.

But for better or worse,
the crown has landed on my head.

And I say we go.

The Royal Yacht Britannia
sails towards Gibraltar.

Visible on deck, Her Majesty the Queen,
and the Duke of Edinburgh.

Accompanying Britannia,

15 A-class destroyers
from the Mediterranean fleet.

They're shooting with a 21-gun salute.

A powerful signal to the people of Gibraltar

of the Queen and the British Empire's
enduring support.

...magnificent tour has already marked
Her Majesty as a woman of destiny.

Her return to London after 50,000 miles
by air, land and sea

is a triumph of diplomacy
at a challenging time for the empire.

Not a single item of the enormous list
of engagements has been missed.

Millions have seen and greeted their Queen

as she leaves the Commonwealth
charmed and united.

It is already clear
that Her Majesty will occupy a place

among the famous queens of history

and promises a renewed role for Britain
in the modern world.

The empire secure
across the four corners of the Earth,

marking the start of a new Elizabethan Age.

- Hello.
- Your Majesty.

Ah-ha!

Yes!

Ma'am.

- The Prime Minister's arrived.
- One, two, three, go!

- Thank you.
- I'm fast.

- Daddy! I'm going to get you.
- No, no, no! Not the chair! Not the chair!

Mind the dogs!

- You can't get away from me!
- I can get away from you.

The Prime Minister, Your Majesty.

- Congratulations, Your Majesty.
- Thank you, Winston.

- An unqualified triumph.
- A narrow escape, I say.

It could so easily have gone the other way.

Well, but it didn't,
and has put us right back where we belong.

Higher, in fact.

And, before the tour,
our great nation was in danger

of losing much of its status, our influence,
our standing.

Your courage and conviction prevailed.

This time, perhaps.

But in time they will
surely grow tired of it.

- Grow tired of us.
- Only if the Crown

and the people representing the Crown

make mistakes, errors of judgment.

- My dear sister?
- Yes.

What would you have me do?

- Thank you, ma'am.
- Your Majesty?

- Her Royal Highness is on her way.
- Thank you.

It's all right.
I have been here before.

I do know the way.

- What, in there?
- Yes, ma'am.

Goodness.

What have I done to deserve this?

The brief was simple.

Perform minor ceremonial tasks
with a minimum of fuss.

Not end up all over the newspapers.

I can't help it if they want to write
about me.

Well, it would help
if you didn't give them what they crave.

- Character and excitement.
- Instability and drama.

Well, at least I give them something.
You give them nothing.

- I give them silence.
- Silence is nothing.

- It's the absence of noise.
- Emptiness, blank page.

- Which allows others to shine.
- But the Monarchy should shine.

The Monarchy, yes.

Not the Monarch.

Reparations will need to be made.

To whom?

To the people you offended.

A general, to whom,
when asked if you'd like to dance,

you replied, "Yes, but not with you."

I believe there was also a debutante
who you managed to make cry,

and the dancers of Sadler's Wells,

whom you refused to meet
after arriving late for the performance.

You showed individuality.

And that made people panic.

They don't want individuality.

The last person who showed character
almost took the ship down.

You are enjoying this.

- Not a bit.
- Yes, you are.

Admonishing your unruly young sister.

Have you ever thought
how it must be for me?

Many times, at great length, wistfully.

You have a role, a clear set of rules.

All you have to do is follow them.

Margaret, you have freedom.
All you have to do is enjoy it.

You think that I am free?

To be constantly in your shadow,
constantly the overlooked one.

- It looks like heaven to me.
- What you have looks like heaven to me.

Two sisters who envy one another.

We wouldn't be the first.

Pride and Joy.

Remember what Papa called us.

Yes.

"Elizabeth is my pride,
and Margaret is my joy."

""But' Margaret is my joy."

I'm sorry. I have to claim
the few victories I'm left with.

We're not disputing it, surely?

- What?
- That I was Papa's favorite.

There's a cruel truth to it, isn't there?

When there are two sisters so close in age,

the more one becomes one thing,
the more the other

necessarily becomes the opposite,

and vice versa.

It's the way of things.

If one is the Queen,

it must be the source of honor,
all that is good,

the other necessarily becomes
the focus of the most

creative malice.

Evil sister.

No one says you're evil.

Next to you, I will always be evil.

Feckless.

Lost.

Lesser thing.

And yet you spend so much time
telling me that I'm a lesser thing.

Only to give myself a moment's peace.

Would you consider doing it for me?

- Just from time to time.
- What?

Putting a foot wrong.
The occasional mistake.

Let the side down.

So I might not be so conspicuous a failure
by comparison.

- You're tired.
- No, I'm not. Not tired.

I'm just asking for a future I can bear.

Margaret.

Do I have your word
that those apologies will be made?

We can help you draft letters
or make statements.

No need.