All language subtitles for The.Crown.S01E10.1080p.BluRay.x264-SHORTBREHD_track4_eng

...and then, I swing you around there.

Darling!

A bit smoother,
and then very, very close together.

The Duke and Duchess of York, Your Majesty.

I... I... I won't see her. Just my brother.

I gather you've made your decision.

I have.

I'm afraid you won't thank me for it.

Is she really worth it?

I love her with all my heart.

Of course, but more than your own country?

Hmm?

More than your own family?
More than your own brother?

Yes.

You'll be fine.

You have a wife by your side
and heirs to spare.

My daughters.

This will crush them.

If you stand down, I shall want you
and that woman gone for good.

Brother has indeed turned against brother.

Pay me to, brother,

and I'll be gone forever.

A sailor went to sea, sea, sea

To see what he could see, see, see

But all that he could see, see, see

Was the bottom
Of the deep blue sea, sea, sea

A sailor went to knee, knee, knee
To see what he could knee, knee, knee

Ms MacDonald. His Majesty has asked
to see the two princesses.

Right. Come along, girls.

Lilibet.

Margaret.

Your uncle has let us all down.

He put love before family.

Now, I want you to promise me one thing,

that you will never put anyone or anything
before one another.

You are sisters above all else.

And must never let one another down.

Understood?

Never.

Never.

- Happy birthday, Margaret.
- Thank you.

So, I've done what you all asked
and waited two years,

but now that I am 25,

and free to decide for myself
whom I will marry,

it is with great pleasure...

Thank you.

Great pleasure and pride,
that I say I am still committed to Peter.

I've kept my side of the bargain.

Now, I'm hoping you'll keep yours.

Of course.

Happy birthday!

- Happy birthday, darling.
- Happy birthday!

Thank you!

- Afternoon, ma'am.
- Yes, thank you, Michael.

One or two bits and pieces.

A request from our neighbour,
Captain Farquharson,

wanting to lease a few acres
of Balmoral grouse land

in exchange for the acres
which we leased from him last year.

Now, I spoke to the head keeper

and he advised checking nest stocks
before responding.

Yes, that seems very sensible.

A card for the Mayor of Easter Ross,
whose 70th it is this year.

Ah, yes, he's not been well, has he?

A stroke, earlier in the year,
but he'll mend now, I'm happy to say.

Good.

That's everything from me, ma'am.
Anything from you?

Uh, yes. Uh, an instruction
to put things in motion,

as regards Group Captain Townsend's
return to the country.

Ma'am?

As you know, my sister is now free of
the constraints of the Royal Marriages Act

and no longer requires my consent to marry.

Yes.

What is it that you're not saying, Michael?

Well, there is still the other hurdle.

The second part of the Royal Marriages Act.

The fact that Her Royal Highness
has turned 25

merely means that she has reached an age

where she can give notice
of her intention to marry.

Not that she is free to marry.

What?

If both Houses of Parliament approve,

only then, after 12 months have expired,
can the marriage take place,

and any marriage
contracted in defiance of these rules

would be void.

Why did no one tell me this at the time?

To which I hope you replied...

"It's always been there, ma'am,
in black and white."

Yes, but no one drew my attention to it
or said anything.

It's going to be very difficult.

I'm sorry.

I do feel that we've left her in a difficult spot.

Well, the Queen Mother
always believed that two years'

separation would be long enough
for Princess Margaret

to lose interest in the Group Captain

and the whole thing to go away,
but she hasn't and it hasn't.

And if anything, the Queen's dilemma
at the heart of it all is only more acute.

Either she puts her foot down
and forbids the marriage

that turns sister against sister and
splits the royal house down the middle,

or she permits the marriage,
setting a collision course

with the Church
of which she herself is the Head.

Well, let me give it some more thought.

We'll speak in the morning.

- Good night, Michael.
- Thank you, sir.

Take a worm.

- What?
- A worm.

With your fingers, go on.

They won't bite, they're worms, boy.

That's it.

Good boy.

- It's wriggling.
- Of course it's wriggling. It's a worm.

It'll stop wriggling
once you put it on the hook.

So, I was thinking about a week on Monday.

What for?

To make the announcement.

The engagement.

Would you mind holding off?

Just a moment longer?

Everything's fine, don't worry.

There's just been a slight wrinkle.

What's a "wrinkle"?

Oh, no, a formality,
which no one told me about,

which means it's just going to take
a little bit longer than expected.

Well, how much longer?
We've waited two years already.

- I understand.
- And Peter's been through hell.

- I know.
- Waiting like a martyr.

- Locking himself away...
- I know.

...seeing no one. Speaking to no one.

I've been crying into my pillow at night,
counting the days.

Why? Why?
Because we were doing you a favour.

- I'm aware of that!
- To spare you your blushes.

To make your life easier.

I know, and I'm going to take care of it.

Look, I...
I probably shouldn't have said a thing.

We're going to go up in three, okay?
One, two, three, cast!

Come on. Let's try again.
Hold this, please.

- I'm trying!
- Yeah, well, try harder.

It's difficult, Daddy.

No, it's not difficult.

Come on. If you don't try again,
you'll never catch a fish.

He dominates that poor boy.

Okay. Try again.

Christ. Quit, quit, quit. Watch.

He can be very kind, too.

Watch what I do.

And he's wonderful with Anne.

And here, then back to here,
and then we cast...

I still think he's too hard on him.

Taking out his own frustrations
on an innocent child.

I had lunch with Tommy Lascelles last week
and we both agreed

that Philip still hasn't settled
and struggles with life in your shadow.

- Please.
- Come on, Charles.

Let's just... Let's have another go.

Tommy came up with an interesting notion.

Hey, there you go! Bravo!

- Mummy, I caught one!
- Well done!

Have you noticed something
about our children?

- They're the wrong way round.
- What?

Well, our daughter's a boy
and our son is, God bless him, a girl.

Don't be silly. He's just sensitive.

Have you seen him fish?

A girl.

What's the matter? You seem preoccupied.

I am. I've got problems with Margaret,
and Mummy's been interfering.

- Surprise, surprise.
- Yes. Along with everything else.

Oh.

Would you hate the idea
of going to Australia?

- What for?
- To open the Olympic Games.

Well, the Olympics, they're in November,
aren't they?

You can't go in November.

Oh, no, I didn't mean with me,
I meant alone. In my name.

Right. Whose idea was that?

Does it matter?

- Would you agree to it?
- No, I'd be gone months.

Weeks.

Away from you. Away from the children.

- Yes, but would you do it?
- No.

Oh, please, Philip.
Everyone just wants you to be happy.

Nobody gives a fig about my happiness.

Yes, they do.
They want you to be stable and fulfilled.

Everybody wants you happy, stable
and fulfilled. They wish I'd just disappear.

No, they just think you'd benefit
from the attention.

- And preferably never come back.
- No, just come back...

What?

What? Say it.

Say it. A different man?

No, not that.

What, then?

Say it, pick the adjective.

All right, yes.

Changed.

Princess Margaret,
third in line for the throne of Britain,

now 25 and legally in control
of her own destiny.

Pressmen and sightseers throng the lanes,
undeterred by the official statement...

...that no announcement is contemplated
at present about the Princess' future.

Meanwhile, the new Prime Minister,
fresh off the plane from Cairo,

travels to Scotland to brief the Queen

on the latest development
with Colonel Nasser.

Mr Eden! Have you come to
discuss Princess Margaret's marriage?

- Margaret?
- Hello.

Where are you going?
Prime Minister's just arrived.

I'm taking to my bed.

I intend to remain in sulk for at least a week.

Oh, dear.

Don't tell me, my wife?

Yes.

Tie.

Ah. Thank you.

It's not easy.

I'm a little fed up with her myself,
truth be told.

Why? What's she done to you?

Don't get me started.

Is she making life difficult for you and Peter?

Ugh. Yes, she wants
to delay the engagement.

Well, it serves you right, quite frankly.

You both seem far too happy
and far too in love.

- Do we?
- Yes.

It's easy to be in love with someone
who's not here, isn't it?

Yes. Perhaps that's why
she's sending me away. Chin up.

- Thank you.
- Thank you.

Would you excuse me?

The Prime Minister, Your Majesty.

Yes.

I've just been reading about
your difficulty with Colonel Nasser.

Have the newspapers exaggerated it terribly?

To a very significant degree, yes.

Oh, well, you can tell me
all about it in the car.

I thought rather than
have our audience in the study,

we could get some fresh air.

You must be longing for a walk
after your journey.

Do you have any outdoor shoes?

Um, galoshes, ma'am.

Well, you might need something
sturdier than that. Come on!

She's a bit throaty, I'm afraid.

We've been having trouble
with the fuel pump.

Tell me about Colonel Nasser.

Well, the trouble started
the minute we landed in Cairo.

I got off the plane and made a statement
to local reporters, in Arabic.

You speak Arabic?

Very badly. I studied it at Oxford.

I am delighted to be here in Cairo
to meet with Colonel Nasser

to continue discussions about the funding
for his grand Aswan Dam project.

His Arabic is good.

Thank you.

Very good.

Too good.

I'm sure the Colonel
would have been charmed by that.

On the contrary.

That night,
there was a dinner at our embassy.

- He came in uniform.
- Military uniform?

Yes.

Well, whatever for?

One would think the clue
would be in the invitation to dinner

that one would wear a dinner jacket.

He came as if we'd invited him to battle

and promptly behaved like that.

Your Excellency, Prime Minister Eden.

Is anything the matter?

No one told me it was formal dress tonight.

No matter, sir, it's just a suit.

But the wrong suit.

Sensing his embarrassment
and wishing to spare him further blushes,

I tried to make the situation better.

If I was as decorated as you sir

I would wear my uniform all the time.

Wouldn't take it off.

You think I don't know?

That you received
the Military Cross for bravery

in the First World War

and you were the youngest Brigade Major
in the British army, at twenty-one.

You are more decorated than me...

Captain Eden.

That night,
the Voice of Egypt radio station in Cairo

claimed that Nasser had been deliberately
humiliated by the imperious British.

Oh, dear.

It might be worth
extending the hand of goodwill.

Indeed, we are, ma'am.

We're bending over backwards
to help him fund this dam project.

Things here could do with
a little settling, too.

My sister's engagement.

This was their favourite place.

They would ride out here together.

And put a single stone down
for each time they met.

I thought this would be the perfect spot
for us to discuss the matter.

You see,

I gave my sister my assurance

that if she waited until the age of 25,
she could do as she likes.

Now, I discover that's not true,

and that she still needs to wait a year
to get permission from Parliament,

which is not the advice
that I originally received.

Yes.

And I'm afraid to say that,
even if she were to ask that permission,

I cannot guarantee that she would get it.

Why?

Because a good many
remain opposed to the idea

on religious grounds.

Then advise me.

Group Captain Townsend will be leaving
Brussels and returning home shortly,

having done exactly
what we asked him to do.

How can I keep my word after I gave it
knowing only half the facts?

Let me take the temperature of the Cabinet.

We must not forget that times are changing.

Morality is changing.

Country is changing.

So, it was your idea, was it?

Dispatching me to the penal colonies?

If you mean entrusting you
to go to Melbourne

to open the Olympic Games alone,
actually it was Tommy Lascelles.

Oh, your puppet. I might have guessed.

And you ought to be flattered.

To be trusted to cut a ribbon?

- To be given that level of freedom.
- What freedom? I have no freedom.

You have more freedom
than any consort in history.

And you repay it by scowling and skulking
like an adolescent.

So, go.

Have some time in the spotlight, be the
main attraction, and enjoy the attention.

Hopefully it will do you some good.
You might finally be less resentful

and more supportive
of my daughter in her duty.

That's it, Charles.

When's the wedding day, sir?

Are you going to make an announcement?

Anything you want to share with us?

- Townsend.
- No, thank you.

There's no formal confirmation
of this from the Palace.

Prime Minister.

Michael.

Sir.

I discussed the matter
this morning with the Attorney General

and, uh, he advised
that there was no easy way

around the governing rules
of the Royal Marriages Act.

Furthermore,

several senior members of Cabinet
remain violently opposed.

Indeed, Lord Salisbury has made it clear
that he would resign from government,

rather than submit to what he considers
a subversion of the Church's teachings,

the holy sacrament of marriage
and the decay of moral standards.

But I realise this doesn't help you.

No.

So, if it is

Your Majesty's intention
to support your sister,

come what may...

It is.

Then the best I can offer is to

place a Bill of Renunciation
before Parliament.

It would deprive her of all her rights,
privileges and income.

She would have to be married
in a civil ceremony abroad.

And be obliged to live out of the country
for several years.

But you will have kept your word.

And she will have prevailed
and will be Mrs Peter Townsend.

Of course.

That's the strategy.

What strategy?

Force me into that choice,
bank on the fact that I would never do it.

"Oh, smart set Margaret. Good time Margaret.

"She could never survive
without the trimmings." Well, I could.

I could live perfectly happily
without the staff, without the car,

without the parties, without the attention.

Without the money. Effortlessly.

I am more than my title,
than these privileges.

Peter wouldn't want it anyway.

So, if that's what's on offer, I'll give up
my title and we'll leave the country.

It's not what I want for you.

So, please, think about it.

I mean really, really think about it.

Fine.

And while I'm thinking about it,
perhaps you could think about this.

I have a country that is for me.

Newspapers that sympathise with me.

I represent what a growing majority want.
The future, not the past.

A kinder, more tolerant attitude
to marriage and divorce.

That's not me.

Fine.

Then a government in your name.

There they are!

Slow down here.

They tried to bribe my butler.

£100! Can you imagine?

For a photograph of the two of you.

It's all rather too much, isn't it?

The house is under siege.
And you're the cause of it all, old boy.

Not bad, sweeping up
the most eligible woman in the world.

Shall we?

Yes.

- Peter?
- No, you dance, darling. I'll go to bed.

- You're sure?
- I'm quite sure.

I would sail

The seven seas with you

Even if you told me to go

And paddle my own canoe

Sincerely...

Hello.

- Hello.
- Hmm.

Everyone is still dancing.

Then why are you here?

To tell you that I love you.

Thank you.

- And that they're just children.
- I know.

And I'm mad for you.

Me, too.

Her Royal Highness Princess Margaret

and wartime fighter ace
Group Captain Townsend

were important weekend visitors
at Allenby Park, near Windsor.

Pressmen and sightseers
hoping for a glimpse of the couple

were undeterred by the official statements
that no announcement is expected.

But whatever the answer to the question
that millions are asking,

no one can doubt the warmth and sympathy
countless ordinary people have

for the Queen's sister
and the former equerry to Her Majesty.

Since our last meeting,
I've been thinking a great deal

about something that my father said
to Princess Margaret and myself

at the time of the abdication.

He made us swear, as sisters,

never to put anything or anyone
before one another,

in the way that he felt his brother had.

It's an oath that we both made
and that we intend to keep.

But I can't see how I'm to honour it.

It is my duty as Queen to refuse
Margaret marriage to a divorced man.

Everyone advises me so.

And yet, I will be breaking a promise,
not only to my sister,

but also to my late father.

And the one body of people who might
make it possible for me to keep my promise

is Cabinet.

A group whom, I've learned, count no fewer
than four divorced men in their number.

Yes.

Yourself included, Prime Minister.

Indeed.

Now, I wonder, in light of this,

whether you might go back
and use your considerable influence

and ask your Cabinet colleagues
if they might reconsider

their decision to oppose the marriage.

Certainly, ma'am.

Though, I feel I should warn you
that there still will be the Church.

Yes, well, I'll see to that.

The Archbishops of Canterbury, and York.

And the Bishop of Durham.

Is that Winchester?

Bath and Wells, ma'am.

The big guns.

The four horsemen of the apocalypse.

Marriage is a sacrament of God.

The cornerstone of our Christian family life.

Its foundation and its rock.

And according to the canon law
of the Church of England,

indissoluble.

Put simply, there are no circumstances

where the Church might permit
the remarriage of divorced persons

while the husband or wife
of the former marriage is still alive.

Even if he was the innocent party?

No circumstances at all.

That makes my position very difficult.

To forbid the marriage
would risk breaking up my family.

Your Majesty, as Queen,

you are Fidei Defensor,

Defender of the Faith.

That was the oath you made
at the coronation.

Well, I married the man of my choice

and I'd like to think she could do the same.

Well, the reality of it is that
she really likes the fella...

Time to concede, it would seem.

Give the people what they want.

Do they really know what they want?

Quite frankly, the world today,
isn't what it was a few years ago,

and he was not the guilty party...

I think they're making it very clear.

So, well, the Archbishops
just made themselves clear, too.

You don't need to listen to them, surely?

As Head of the Church of England,
I thought I might.

Oh.

Well, in the name of the people
that live with you and love you,

might I suggest
not being Head of the Church for a minute.

Or Head of State,
or Head of the Commonwealth of Nations,

or the army, or the navy, or the government,

or the Fount of Justice,
or the whole damn circus, frankly.

And be what?

A living, breathing thing, a woman.

A sister. A daughter. A wife.

All ready for you, Your Majesty.

Elizabeth...

I've been hoping to hear from you.

I've found myself hovering
by the phone for days.

- It's about Margaret?
- Yes.

The French are very much for her, you know.

Well, at least Paris is,
which is the only France that matters.

And are you for her, too?

For Margaret, La Maria? How can I not be?

I share with her
the fate of having a great love

that captured
much of the country's imagination,

only to have it forbidden
by the establishment.

So, naturally, my sympathy is with her.

I see.

But there is also
the other great love of my life,

the Crown,

and protecting that Crown.

And I imagine you find yourself
in a difficult position now.

Split down the middle.

One half is sister, one half is Queen.

Exactly.

A strange, hybrid creature.

Like a sphinx or Gamayun.

As I am Ganesha or Minotaur.

We are half people.

Ripped from the pages
of some bizarre mythology,

the two sides within us, human and crown,

engaged in a fearful civil war,
which never ends.

And which blights
our every human transaction as...

As brother, husband,

sister, wife, mother.

I understand the agony you feel
and I am here to tell you,

it will never leave you.

I will always be half-King.

My tragedy is that I have no kingdom.

You have it.

And you must protect it.

Her Royal Highness the Princess Margaret.

I've asked you here

to say that I've given the matter thought.

A great deal of thought.

The issue of your marriage has,
for the past weeks, and months,

gone to the very heart of
a great number of things.

The country, morality, divorce.

But also something closer to home.

Who I am.

What I am.

And your marriage to Peter...

- Wait, I...
- No, please, Margaret.

It doesn't come naturally for me to
speak like this, so please let me finish.

It's involved going against
members of our family,

against senior courtiers, against Cabinet.

You know how I hate confrontation,
or mess, or dereliction of duty,

but I was prepared to go through it all
and support you, as a sister

because I'd given you my word.

But...

But?

But what?

But I realised,

as Queen,

that I have no choice.

I cannot allow you to marry Peter
and remain part of this family.

That is my decision.

In defiance of the pledge
you made to our father?

And the pledge you gave to me?

Yes.

Will you forgive me?

- If you deny me the man I love?
- If I put duty before family.

Would you forgive anyone
who denied you Philip?

- It doesn't compare.
- It compares exactly.

In marrying Philip, I wasn't violating
the scriptures or offending the Church.

I'm so sorry.

- You will love others.
- No. Never.

Peter is the only one.

I understand that it feels like that now,
but, Margaret...

I know I appear strong, but I'm not.

Peter is the only one who knows how to

calm me, to reassure me, to protect me.
Don't tell me you understand that.

You don't know for a minute what it is to be

unhinged.

Be flailing about.

Well, Peter is the only one

who could hold me together.

Without him,

I'm lost.

I will never forgive her.

And I will never marry anyone else.

Ever.

You're the only one.

"I would like it to be known that

"that Her Royal Highness
the Princess Margaret and I

"have decided not to marry.

"Mindful of the Church's teaching that
Christian marriage is indissoluble,

"and accepting my position
as a divorced man,

"and knowing how deeply religious faith

"and commitment to the Church runs
within the Princess,

"we have resolved
to make the ultimate sacrifice

"and break off our relationship
with immediate effect.

"Her Royal Highness
the Princess Margaret and I

"are strengthened by the unfailing support
of the Royal Family

"whom it has been my honour

"and my privilege to serve
for these last 10 years.

"I will now return to Brussels to continue
my important work as air attaché there."

Mr Townsend,
would you like to make a comment?

The 19 days between
Peter Townsend's return to London

and the Princess' decision
were a period of mounting suspense.

Now, she has put her royal duty first.

Outside Clarence House,
the day after the announcement,

people hoped to see and encourage her.

The hearts of all Britain and the
Commonwealth are with the young princess,

who has chosen not self, but country.

The Group Captain flies back to Brussels,
the end of a story of love and duty,

with duty prevailing.

Apparently,
the Prime Minister called Nasser

in an attempt to defuse the situation,

but it seems the Egyptian leader
took offence again.

Why this time?

Because the PM refused
to speak a word of Arabic,

insisting on speaking English.

What's the matter with that?

Ah-ha.

Well, it seems Nasser hadn't arranged
for a translator to be present,

which left him exposed since he
doesn't speak sufficiently good English.

He felt tricked and humiliated

and has taken the whole thing
as a terrible affront.

There is some personal history
between the two men, I believe.

Oh, dear. Well, I do hope it all calms down.

I'm off.

Where are you going?

We are ready for Her Majesty.

To meet the president
of the Olympic Committee, as instructed.

They now suggest I combine
opening the games with a royal tour,

stay away even longer, five months.

A long way to go.

A long time for a father to be
away from his children.

But, no, if it gives me time
to reflect and to work out my priorities

and to settle, not just in the marriage,

but you know, generally, it'll be worth it.

Don't be like that.
Everyone's just trying to help.

Oh, yes, by putting a problem
on a boat to Australia

and hoping it sorts itself out
or better still, sinks.

You know, it is possible
that you might enjoy it, and thank me.

Don't dress betrayal up as a favour.

Better go. Can't stand around chatting.

Your Majesty.

Oh. Will you be back late?

What is this?

Can you please move it?

Thank you.

I'll be right with you, Cecil.

Good afternoon.

Thank you, Your Majesty.

Britain and the West despise Arabs.

Prime Minister Eden thinks he can insult us.

You can leave now, thank you.

We will fight to the last drop of our blood...

Try standing up, ma'am.

That's it, there.

All hail sage Lady,
whom a grateful Isle hath blessed.

Not moving, not breathing.

Our very own goddess. Glorious Gloriana.

Forgetting Elizabeth Windsor now.

Now only Elizabeth Regina. Yes.