Original subtitles

♪♪

George Frideric Handel.

German.

Are you all right?

It's nothing.

I am bilious.

Quickly!

Her Majesty is quite the little jack-in-the-box.

Women are queer cattle.

Of what do you gentlemen speak?

The music, sir.

It is very

well-constructed.

I felt unwell.

It was disagreeable.

It's over now.

Oh, Lord, it was nothing compared to the spectacle

of Peel perspiring

with the effort of being charming.

Although I have to admit I'm strangely drawn to Peel.

He's direct,

like me.

Also, I am told he's an aficionado of the railway.

Don't talk railway at me.

Half the people in this box

are moaning about incursions on their property.

They are wrong.

We stand on the brink

of a modern revolution, Victoria, of science.

Embrace it.

Go to these places of new manufacturing.

You say "manufacturing"

and my soul shrivels with boredom.

Mine does not.

You should be the champion of what is coming.

Rather too much "should."

You're tired.

I'm not tired.

Then, my dear, you must be ill.

I'm not ill.

I shall send for the doctor.

Albert, I don't... I don't want a doctor.

Your queen is sick.

Oh, we don't say "sick," we say "indisposed."

Well, she is indisposed out of her mouth.

What's that?

The cure for every ailment known to woman

is chocolate.

Hot chocolate?

Really?

Uh-uh!

Mmm!

Why don't you give her one of your little wafers?

Then she can dip it in.

You're in the wrong job, Miss Skerrett.

Thank you.

I'll get this to the Queen directly.

Can't fix what she's got with chocolate.

She says "no doctor" and she sends for the doctor.

Good-bye, Dr. Clarke.

What did the doctor say?

Tell me, please.

There's nothing we cannot face.

There is no polite English word.

You are with child?

That's...

That's magnificent!

You are magnificent.

I'm afraid.

No.

Is it safe to announce?

I know my duty.

Very good, Lord Chamberlain.

HRH didn't dilly-dally.

Ma'am.

What is it?

Brandy mixed with cream.

It eliminates nausea.

Is it medically demonstrable?

Ask any woman who has conceived.

Listen to me.

Your nurse is a virgin, your husband is a man,

your doctor is a fool.

Directly after luncheon, you must go to bed

and lay down on your back without moving till dinner.

Dinner shall be preparations of the vital organs:

the brain, liver, the lungs.

Affairs of state...

Drina, this is your affair of state.

Affairs?

Let Albert do them for you.

Let him do everything for you.

Will he also give birth for me, Mama?

Remember Charlotte.

Her death in labor

is the reason you're queen.

I have work to do.

Baroness, you put me off my stroke.

The queen must have sweetbreads in broth,

I know, yes, I'll see to it directly,

but if I cock this mayonnaise...

Her Majesty's dietary requirements take pr...

Curdled.

All she had to do was look at it.

Take this.

Make it again.

No.

I'm not an imbecile.

I grasp that the constitution demands an heir

and that I must produce it.

But to make me feel I own no other function...

Your mother is...

of her generation.

The world's leaving her behind.

She is afraid.

You are going to look at my body

and be revolted.

I know it.

My desire for you will never fail.

A love like ours can burn down a city.

The Lord Chamberlain, Your Majesty.

My Lord, this is my private time.

Speak freely before the Prince.

I shall be offended if you don't.

The court rejoices in your news.

But?

Your eyes are full of "but."

Childbirth is a hazardous business.

You want to know what will happen if I die.

I understand.

It is your duty to consider what would happen next.

Specifically, ma'am, if the child survived you.

It is incumbent upon Your Majesty

to nominate a regent

for the approval of Parliament.

Well, that, my lord, is something I can do

without a moment's hesitation.

And so the torpid Teuton

wedges himself yet further

into the sagging cleft of power.

It's unconscionable!

If the queen dies,

are we to be ruled by a German?

We already are.

Cumberland would crawl over broken glass

for a crack at the regency.

Parliament, of course,

must ratify...

Of course it must.

I hear you are already acquainted

with the prince, Peel.

The queen is stubborn.

You must convince Albert to reconsider.

If the Tories fail

to condone your regency, I will abdicate.

No, you will not.

I will.

You can't abdicate.

You're not the monarch.

Then I will merely leave.

Then I will merely kill myself.

Then I will remarry.

Ridiculous.

Whom will you marry?

Wellington.

Peel.

Maybe both.

Cumberland shall be my mistress.

Drina, laughter is bad for baby.

One day, I'll put her on a donkey

and pack her off to Carlisle.

Carlisle.

County town of Cumberland,

celebrated for textiles.

Adjacent is Northumberland,

rejoicing in the digging of coal.

You see, it is not your mother

you should be sending north.

You're determined to see me dragged around

some morbid display of traction engines.

Send me.

Why?

Otherwise, I feel the people

may not accept me as their regent.

I'm not dead yet.

Don't be childish.

If you would prefer not to be regent when I am dead...

No, what I would prefer, Victoria,

is to exercise just a little power while you are alive.

Power must be seen to come from me.

For you...

I order a trip North.

An expedition

into the dark heart of the Tory shires,

where I shall fanfare you as regent.

Oh no, I do not seriously expect you to travel.

The latest research in Germany suggests

that the woman in pregnancy should not exert herself.

But I am not a German woman.

I am the Queen of England.

Chillington Hall, ma'am,

is well situated for your research,

being in Staffordshire.

It is also close to Drayton,

Sir Robert Peel's residence.

Oh, Lord.

Your host, Sir Piers Giffard,

is by all accounts an old-fashioned gentleman

and a Tory as well,

but he begs to receive Her Majesty and her entourage.

Contrary to general belief,

I'm not actually frightened of Tories.

Can we define "entourage"?

King Charles the First, ma'am,

made such excursions with what he called

"his modest night bag"... A company of 500 horse.

Not an easy guest.

One is anxious not to end one's reign

as did King Charles.

We shall be attended by a very few.

Jenkins.

Your Royal Highness?

Oh, um...

Lohlein is all I require.

Baroness, you, of course.

Can't travel without my dear Lehzen.

Surely, dear, Baroness is needed here to administrate.

Penge can administrate the household.

It's what he's for.

We shall be so light, we shall travel

like the wind!

No, Mama, you shall remain here.

Harriet, will you attend to the Duchess in my absence?

Can your husband spare you?

He will not notice I'm gone, ma'am.

This apparently is the very discomfort

that the railway eliminates.

The vehicle runs on wheels, with have flanges...

I learned this word... Which fit precisely

into the inner tracks, which...

I think we need to stop.

Please stay here.

Why do you crowd me with that, Lehzen?

It doesn't appear to be raining.

It was in case Your Majesty was indisposed.

Ah.

Dearest Lehzen.

Always thinking of me.

I just needed some air.

You know, the whole world would have me

trussed up in bed all day.

That's hardly my style, is it?

What was it you used to say I was?

A little wrigglepants, ma'am.

Did you see those fellows in the field?

They were surveying the railway, I think.

My darling, the railway is not a subject

to be paraded before the Giffards.

Just be your charming self.

They will adore you.

Last time I saw her, she was... what?

This high?

Apparently

she still is.

She's here to pimp for his regency.

Are you randy for it?

No, not at any price.

Your Majesty.

Sir Piers.

So, how does one

pass one's time in Staffordshire?

Ceramics.

It is the industry of the region.

It is a favored occupation of the people.

Well, it seems to be the case

that many artifacts are created en masse

in factories.

I would very much like to visit some of these places.

We hunt, ma'am.

In fact, I have arranged for you and the prince

to ride out with the Shifnal tomorrow.

Piers, you're quite mad.

Her Majesty cannot tax herself

to riding with the hounds in her condition.

Alas, I do not hunt.

I shoot.

Well, a day of driven shooting, then.

Would Your Majesty find such a prospect diverting?

Excessively diverting.

We shall observe, Lady Beatrice.

I'm confident neither of us

shall find the experience taxing.

Your man's shooting tomorrow.

Does he have the kit?

In this country, a gentleman don't set foot in the field

without the kit.

Oh, just see me afterwards.

Crikey, whose are those?

Ze butler gives this to me, for the Prince.

Is correct English for the field.

Those trousers aren't proper kit for nothing but fancy dress.

A gun wearing white would be a right howler.

Are you listening to me?

Are you listening?

Yes.

A dark coat, brown boots,

tall hat, the older the better,

that's all you need.

No one shoots in nothing new.

Do you understand?

Yes.

Come on, show me what you've brought.

We won't have the prince embarrassed.

What are those gentlemen doing?

They're the beaters, sir.

They're driving the birds towards us.

I see.

In Thüringen,

we take birds in the cages to high towers,

and then they are released.

A barbaric practice.

Sausage eater can hit them!

A most singular mount.

Fascinating!

I'd wipe your eye, Sir Piers.

Good shot, sir.

Oh!

Extraordinary to find you here.

Well, extraordinary only in that

I do not shoot, Your Majesty.

But I am, uh...

I'm neighbor to the Giffards.

You do not shoot?

Well, if you instruct me to do so, ma'am,

I shall certainly try,

but I'm afraid I shall make a fearful hash of it.

Sport is not my métier.

I am unused to it.

Too busy preparing for government.

Now, luncheon.

Sir Piers, what is your view of the railway?

Fortunately, sir,

I don't have a view of it here.

I'm plagued by people

wanting to run the thing through my park,

but I tell 'em to cut along sharpish

or I'll set the dogs on 'em.

He's a fan, mind.

You approve of it, Sir Robert?

One must not stand in the path of progress, sir.

I agree.

I believe the railway dissolves

the unnecessary cultural divides of our regions.

Men can travel for work, families unite.

When you say

"our regions," sir,

do you mean the counties of England?

Because you may find

that the people of, for instance, Staffordshire

are rather fond

of the peculiar virtues of their region

and don't necessarily want it disfigured

by iron rails.

As ever, this subject makes men overstimulated.

Am I right in thinking

you have never seen a locomotive, sir?

That's correct.

Well, there is presently one on my property

at Drayton.

It is quite adjacent.

It would be my pleasure

to offer you all a demonstration.

Excellent.

Excellent.

Victoria?

Alas, Sir Robert,

I think we should let our host

devise the program of activity.

Your Majesty is pale.

It is too silly of us

to expect you to remain at table so fatiguing.

I am quite well, thank you.

When baby is being mischievous.

Would you care to rest, ma'am?

I think I shall explore.

Alone.

You count as alone.

To look up over one's stew and see Peel

fidgeting with the silver and simpering over my husband!

Albert doesn't know how to talk.

He refuses to dissemble.

He only ever says exactly what he means,

and amongst people like the Giffards, it's...

hopeless.

Oh, say something, Lehzen.

You're allowed to say something.

Sir Robert reminds me of an exhibit I saw in Salzburg.

It was a big frog.

Stuffed.

You accuse Sir Robert of looking like a stuffed frog?

Now, listen to me, Peel.

I know you've had disappointments in your life...

Harrow, so forth...

But the future belongs to the Tories,

and the Tories

belong to you.

Now, toast with the port, damn you.

So make yourself fit for us.

In what respect am I not fit?

You pander to the railway

when you should be chasing the bastards off your land.

You poodlefake and pussyfoot about the gormless German.

It's perfectly clear why they've invited themselves here.

Only reason he talks to you

is to ginger up support for his regency,

an office you shall not allow him.

Wellington's not too old to take the reins, you know.

Just saying.

You imagine I resent being left here by the queen.

Well, you are correct.

It's never nice being left behind, Duchess.

Did you make that just for me?

Well, you are now my official taster.

That's extraordinary!

You know what would make that even better?

Oh, here we go.

Cover it in hot chocolate.

I think, Miss Skerrett, you might be a genius.

Forgive me, darling,

but sometimes you are too direct when you speak.

Men like Giffard,

they recoil from enthusiasm.

They find it un-English.

Please, from now on,

let me guide the conversation.

I'm sorry about the locomotive,

but we must proceed carefully.

Speak English.

I have this morning sent a note to Sir Robert Peel.

Today, I see the locomotive.

Albert?

That is the most magnificent thing

I have ever seen.

Good day.

Your Highness.

Morning.

Would you show His Royal Highness

the controls, please?

These levers control the valves.

Pedal engages the eccentrics.

Regulator

controls the motion.

Moderates the flow of steam.

Let's go.

Now please, your worships,

you can take a seat in the carriage.

Carriage be damned!

We ride here!

I said I wished to be alone.

Shall I go, Majesty?

No.

You haven't eaten your beetroot, ma'am.

I can't bear this.

Where is he?

This is the future!

Yes, sir.

How is the queen?

Wanting the most peculiar things for breakfast.

This morning, she had to have beetroot.

It's a vegetable.

It's revolting.

She's rather cross that HRH

has gone off somewhere without her.

Also without me.

But for a man,

it is essential to have space.

To breathe.

It's not only men who need a breather

from matrimony, my dear.

The butler said that in the country,

the prince must sing as he's being undressed.

I am to encourage this.

Sing? Yes.

Anything in particular?

"God Save the Queen."

Good heavens.

You've been had, boy.

This butler wants your master to look a fool.

Why?

Because these people, like the Giffards

and their servants, they're all the same.

Got to keep the old ways.

Anything that is young and new is a threat.

The queen, the prince, you.

You're what's next.

You scare them.

I'm going for a walk.

Without the prince?

Sir Piers.

Ma'am.

As we are presently unencumbered by other guests,

may I ask where you stand on the matter of the regency?

Well, this is surely a matter, ma'am,

that is purely hypothetical.

Parliament is not hypothetical.

Its members must condone my selection.

Condone or condemn.

What would you advise them to do?

What all men of honor must do, ma'am:

follow their consciences.

Weasel.

Sir Robert, do you consort with me

because you seek my favor for your political advantage?

No, sir.

Do you consort with me because you seek my influence

to ratify your regency?

No.

Although that would be rather helpful.

Perhaps I should.

I like you, Sir Robert.

Even though I famously have no taste, of course.

I'm German.

There it is.

I am glad of it, sir.

There it is.

Does your hand contain royalty?

As a matter of fact, it does.

A prince?

Of course.

I mean "knave."

Ernest is not an honest man, Harriet.

I'm a married woman, Duchess.

You've got children.

As I had Victoria.

How dare you.

My dear, I did not want to wake you.

It is such an insult.

It's not an insult, Victoria.

It's merely me embracing England's destiny

on your behalf.

It is not your place to do things on my behalf!

If I wish to bring railways or anything

to the attention of the English people,

then Albert, I shall do it myself.

And if you answer back using the word "future,"

I shall scream!

I decide what is the future.

What if you had been killed?

Do you not care at all about our unborn child?

Oh, look at you.

You look like a peasant.

I'm not the one eating beetroot.

What?! What is wrong with beetroot?

It's peasant food.

That is ridiculous!

Possibly in your country,

Albert, not in mine.

This is my country!

Victoria,

I seek only to serve it.

And yourself.

♪♪

Dining with the queen,

Mr. Francatelli?

Where's the queen?

She didn't shed a rod.

Her wheels didn't fall off.

She didn't kill Prince Albert.

I call it a success.

Your blooming good health, boys.

Good health.

Oh, Christ.

Queen Victoria!

Victoria!

Victoria!

You like it?

I love it!

What?

I said

I love it!

Now.

That's wonderful.

You know what you ought to do?

Call it...

a "bomb surprise."

Because it looks like a bomb, yes?

And it's a surprise.

"La bombe surprise."

"Mr. Francatelli's bombe surprise."

You invented it.

No, you invented it.

Mm.

We invented it.

It won't wash, Peel.

What won't, Sir Piers?

Licking up to the queen's husband

and giving him a ride on your ruddy infernal machine.

It is not an adult way to solicit power.

The prince has no power to be solicited.

Oh, you're wrong.

With respect.

You know, Sir Piers,

I rather enjoyed riding on the railway.

I commend the experience to you.

You might find it enlightening.

I am most grateful

for Your Majesty's... advice.

It is a mistake

to make one's mind up about a thing

before one's tried it.

Don't you think?

The world is on the move, Sir Piers.

Keep up.

♪♪

My darling, what ever is the matter?

I am frightened of the pain.

There will be pain, yes, but...

I wish I could endure it for you.

But Victoria, listen to me.

Listen.

You are strong.

Childbirth is surely an ordeal, but you are equal to it.

You have such...

such fortitude.

It was wrong of me.

Peel, the engine.

To go alone.

No, not necessarily.

You will allow me to share the burden of your duties?

Albert...

Please.

The Scotch, you know,

they have a curious expression.

"Softly, softly, catchee monkey."

Who is this monkey?

You are my monkey.

Did you see the Giffards

sniggering up their noses at me?

My dear, you look so well.

Thank you, Mama.

Expeditions clearly agree with us.

I am afraid I didn't drink your medicine.

The baby will tell you what it wants.

Welcome home.

Are we paying attention?

The queen has requested a dish of bacon and peas.

Is bacon suitable for...?

Medical suitability has been suspended.

Bacon, Mr. Francatelli.

And peas, Mr. Penge.

And peas. Post-haste.

And for the prince?

The prince dines with the queen.

Double bacon and peas!

It is Her Majesty's wish

that her husband be prince regent,

and I believe it is the correct choice.

You promote the costive Coburg as our regent?

I do not promote the prince.

The man is a menace and a boor.

I endorse the decision of my queen.

If you wish to make farmyard noises,

I suggest you cross the floor to Palmerston's sty,

where that species of behavior is tolerated.

This is the party of gentlemen.

Is that understood?

Let the speaker be informed

that the Tories wholeheartedly support

Her Majesty's choice of regent.

There it is.

Well...

If none of us has the moral courage

to stand up to Peel, I...

I suggest we back him.

Is that understood?

The frog is here,

wishing to croak at you.

I shall send him away.

No.

Tell Sir Robert I shall be pleased to see him.

Your Majesty.

Sir Robert.

You look rather more at home here

than you do in a muddy field.

It's late.

This must be important.

It is indeed, ma'am.

I beg to inform Her Majesty

that in the unfortunate event of her death,

her selection of regent has the full support

of the Tory Party.

That is encouraging news.

But quite academic.

As you see,

I am far too busy to die.

Ah!

Cotton.

Whereabouts is cotton, mostly?

Manchester.

Yes.

Rather more your sort of thing than mine.

Most of this contains industry.