All language subtitles for Downton.Abbey.S01E05.Episode.5.EAC3.2.0.1080p.WEBRip.x265-iVy_track3_eng

(loud clattering)

(gasping)

(laughing)
You made me jump.

Daisy, what is
the matter with you?

You're all thumbs.

Sorry.

I hate this room.

Why? What's the
matter with it?

ANNA:
Daisy?

(birds tweeting outside)

Who's that from, Papa?

You seem very absorbed.

Your Aunt Rosamond.

Anything interesting?

Nothing to trouble you with.

Poor Aunt Rosamond.

All alone in that big house.

I feel so sorry for her.

I don't.

All alone, with plenty of money,
in a house in Eaton Square?

I can't imagine anything better.

Really, Mary, I wish you
wouldn't talk like that.

There will come a day
when someone thinks

you mean what you say.

It can't come
soon enough for me.

Carson, I'll be in the library.

Will you let me know when
Her Ladyship is down?

Certainly, m'lord.

Sybil, darling,
this one's for you.

SYBIL:
I saw another opening
for a secretary and I applied.

But you never said.

I didn't want you
to be disappointed.

I thought you'd given up.

I'll never give up
and nor will you.

Things are changing
for women, Gwen.

Not just the vote,
but our lives.

But it's tomorrow
at 10:00.

Last time we waited
for weeks and weeks,

and this one's tomorrow.

Then we must be ready
by tomorrow, mustn't we?

ISOBEL:
I thought I'd write to Edith

to settle our promised
church visit.

Well, we can't just
throw her overyou want.

when she made such an effort
to arrange the last one.

It's all in
your head.

I don't think so.

Then she's barking up
the wrong tree.

Poor Edith.

I hope there's a right tree
for her somewhere.

Ma'am,

I was wondering if I might
take some time this afternoon

to help in the village hall.

Why? What's happening?

It's the flower show,
sir, next Saturday.

I'll give my father a hand
with his stall if I may.

Of course you must go.

And so, I'm afraid, must I.

Is Mr. Carson about?

I don't think so.

I was just looking
for him myself.

Busy?

I'm just trying to sort out
the wretched flower show.

I've had a letter
from Rosamond.

Don't tell me.

She wants a saddle of lamb

and all the fruit and
vegetables we can muster.

She enjoys a taste
of her old home.

She enjoys not
paying for food.

There's something else.

Apparently the word
is going round London

that Evelyn Napier has given up
any thought of Mary,

that he's going to marry
one of the Semphill girls.

She writes as if, somehow,
it reflects badly on Mary.

Your dear sister is always
such a harbinger of joy.

No, as if...

as if Mary had somehow been
found wanting in her character.

Well, I don't believe Mr. Napier
would have said that.

Neither do I really, but...

She ought to be married.

Talk to her.

She never listens to me.

If she did, she'd marry Matthew.

What about Anthony Strallan?

Anthony Strallan is at least
my age and as dull as paint.

I doubt she'd want to sit
next to him at dinner,

let alone marry him.

She has to marry
someone, Robert.

And if this is what's
being said in London,

she has to marry soon.

You shouldn't do that in here.

WILLIAM:
I don't like being
in the pantry all alone.

Mr. Carson won't mind;
he's gone into the village.

THOMAS:
He'll mind if I tell him.

That's pretty.

Do you think so?

She wants it put onto
a new shirt,

but it's a bit old-fashioned
to my taste.

No, it's lovely.

Have you recovered, Daisy?

What from?

She had a bit of a turn

when we were in Lady Mary's
room, didn't you?

I'm fine, thank you.

What sort of a turn?

Did you see a ghost?

Will you leave her alone if she
doesn't want to talk about it?

THOMAS:
I've often wondered
if this place is haunted.

It ought to be.

By the spirits of maids and
footmen who died in slavery.

BATES: But not,
in Thomas's case,

from overwork.

Come on, Daisy,
what was it?

I don't know.

I was thinking,
first we had the Titanic...

Don't keep harping
back to that.

I know it was a while ago,
but we knew 'em.

I think of how I laid
the fires for Mr. Patrick,

but he drowned
in them icy waters.

Oh, for God's sake.

And then there's
the Turkish gentleman.

It just seems there's been
too much death in the house.

What's that got to do
with Lady Mary's bedroom?

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

Afternoon, ma'am.

When do you put that magnificent
display of prizes on show?

Not till the day itself.

I remember a superb cup
from last year.

The Grantham Cup.

It was donated by
the late Lord Grantham

for the best bloom
in the village.

And who won it?

I did.

Well done.

And the year before?

Her ladyship won that one, too.

ISOBEL:
Heavens...

how thrilling.

And before that?

You've met my father.

Good afternoon,
Mr. Molesley.

What are you showing
this year?

Oh, this and that.

MOLESLEY:
Only the finest roses
in the village.

Really?
What an achievement.

It's a wonderful area for roses.

We're very lucky.

We'll see some beautiful
examples right across the show.

Won't we, Mr. Molesley?

If you say so,
your ladyship.

What's up with you?

Nothing.

His lordship's blaming
Mr. Napier for spreading gossip

about Lady Mary,
but it was you, wasn't it?

Why do you say that?

Because Napier
wasn't in on it.

Only four people know he was
in her room that night.

You, me, Lady Mary,
and possibly Daisy.

And I haven't said
nothing to nobody.

Well, I didn't tell
about Pamuk.

I just wrote that Lady Mary was
no better than she ought to be.

Who did you write it to?

Only a friend of mine--
valet to Lord Savident.

You know what they say
about old Savident--

not so much an open mind
as an open mouth.

No wonder it's all
round London.

You won't tell,
will you?

I'm in enough
trouble as it is.

Why, what's happened?

Mr. Bates saw me
nicking a bottle of wine.

Has he told Mr. Carson?

Not yet, but he will
when he's feeling spiteful.

I wish we could be
shot of him.

Then think of
something quick.

Turn the tables on him before
he has the chance to nail you.

I thought you went
to bed hours ago.

I was writing a note for Lynch.

I need the governess cart
tomorrow.

Oh?

I'm going to Malton.

Oh, don't risk the
traffic in Malton.

Not now every Tom, Dick and
Harry seems to have a motor.

Hardly.

Last time I was there,

there were five cars
parked in the marketplace,

and another three drove past
while I was waiting.

Get Branson to take
you in the car.

Neither of us are using it.

I thought I'd pop in
on old Mrs. Stuart.

Will you tell Mama
if I forget?

You're late this morning.

The library grate needed
a real going-over.

Are any of them
down yet?

Lady Sybil's in the dining room.

I'll start with
her room, then.

Daisy?

You know when you
were talking about

the feeling of death
in the house?

I was just being silly.

I found myself wondering
about the connection

between the poor Turkish
gentleman, Mr. Pamuk,

and Lady Mary's room.

Only you were saying how you
felt so uncomfortable in there.

Well, I... I've got to get on.

I'm late enough as it is.

MATTHEW:
Hello.

Is everything all right?

Oh, hello.

I am about to send
a telegram.

Oh.

Papa's sister is always nagging
him to send supplies to London,

and then we cable her
so her butler can be

at King's Cross
to meet them.

It's idiotic, really.

Is this Lady
Rosamond Painswick?

You have done
your homework.

She wrote to welcome me
into the family,

which I thought pretty generous
given the circumstances.

It's easy to be generous when
you have nothing to lose.

So, are you doing any more
church visiting with Edith?

My mother's trying to set
something up.

Well, watch out.

I think she has
big plans for you.

Then she's in for an equally
big disappointment.

Is it all right
to do the fire?

ANNA:
Why are you so late?

I went back to my room
after I'd woken everyone,

and I just shut my
eyes for a moment.

I've been trying to
catch up ever since.

ANNA:
Have you had
any breakfast?

Not a crumb.

Here.

You can't take her biscuits.

She never eats them.

None of them do.

They're just thrown away and
changed every evening.

Thanks.

She wouldn't mind anyway.

She's nice, Lady Sybil.

(sighs)

Gwen?

May I ask why you are
sitting on Lady Sybil's bed?

Well, you see,
I had a turn,

like a burst of sickness,
just sudden-like.

I had to sit down.

It's true.

Well, you'd better
go and lie down.

I'll tell Mrs. Hughes.

I don't need to interrupt
her morning.

I'm sure I'll be fine, if I
could just put my feet up.

And how many bedrooms
have you still got to do?

Just one.

Lady Edith.

And you can manage
on your own?

Well, she's no use to man
or beast in that state.

Go on.

Shoo.

Daisy?

May I ask why you are holding
Lady Sybil's biscuit jar?

I was just polishing it
before I put it back.

See that you do.

MRS. PATMORE:
I'm sorry, m'lady,

but I can't do
more than my best.

Is there some difficulty,
your ladyship?

Dear Mrs. Hughes,

as you know we're giving
a dinner on Friday

for Sir Anthony Strallan.

Yes, m'lady.

Well, it seems he's
particularly fond

of a certain new pudding.

It's called
Apple Charlotte.

Do you know it?

I'm not sure.

His sister, Mrs. Chetwood,
sent me the receipt.

I'm trying to persuade
Mrs. Patmore to make it.

And I'm trying to persuade
her ladyship

that I have already planned
the dinner with her

and I can't change it now.

Why not?

Because everything's been
ordered and prepared.

Well, there's nothing here
that looks very complicated.

Apples, lemons, butter...

I cannot work from a new receipt
at a moment's notice!

But I can read it to you
if that's the problem.

Problem?

Who mentioned a problem?

How dare you say such a thing
in front of her ladyship!

Very well.

We'll try it another time, when
you've had longer to prepare.

We'll stay with
the raspberry meringue.

And very nice it'll be, too.

I'm sure.

I'm so sorry
about that, m'lady.

Never mind,
I was asking a lot.

Do look after
that girl.

Daisy?

She's used to it,
she'll be all right.

I wonder.

Mrs. Patmore looks ready
to eat her alive.

I was only
trying to help.

Oh, like Judas was only
trying to help, I suppose,

when he brought the Roman
soldiers to the garden!

I had to let the skirt down a
little but I can put it back.

No, it's yours...

What will happen if one of the
maids finds your room's empty?

It'd only be Anna, and she
wouldn't give me away.

She's like a sister.

She'd never betray me.

Well then, she's
not like my sisters.

Walk on.

Shall I give you a hand?

Ah, would you?

It takes half the time with two.

I always feel a bit sorry
for Lady Edith.

Me, too.

Although I don't know why,

when you think what
she's got and we haven't.

Mrs. Hughes said she was
after the other heir,

Mr. Patrick Crawley,
the one who drowned.

That was different.

She was in love with him.

What happened?

She never got a look in.

He was all set up
to marry Lady Mary.

Then he's a braver man
than I am, Gunga Din.

Sad to think about.

It's always sad
when you love someone

who doesn't love you back.

No matter who you are.

No, I mean it's sad
that he died.

Oh.

Yes.

Very sad.

He was nice.

Well, thank you for that.

Much appreciated.

My pleasure.

Perhaps Mr. Patrick did love
her back, he just couldn't say.

Why ever not?

Sometimes we're not
at liberty to speak.

Sometimes it wouldn't be right.

Take a seat.

VIOLET:
The flower show?

Oh, I thought I was in
for another telling off

about the hospital.

No, this time
it's the flower show.

I've been to see old
Mr. Molesley's garden,

and his roses are
the most beautiful

I've ever laid eyes on.

Go on.

You may not know it,

but I believe the committee
feel obliged

to give you the cup
for the best bloom

as a kind of
local tradition.

No, no, I do not know that.

I thought I usually
won the prize

for best bloom in the village

because my gardener had grown
the best bloom in the village.

Yes, but you don't usually win,
do you?

You always win.

Yes.

I have been very fortunate
in that regard.

But surely, when Mr. Molesley's
garden is so remarkable

and he is so very proud
of his roses...

You talk of Mr. Molesley's
pride.

What about my gardener's pride?

Is he to be sacrificed on the
altar of Molesley's ambition?

All I'm asking is that you
release them from any obligation

to let you win.

Why not just tell them to choose
whichever flower is best?

But that is precisely
what they already know.

And do.

I'm sorry, m'lord.

I didn't think you'd be in here.

Are my eyes deceiving me

or is one of these missing?

BATES:
I don't know them
well enough.

No, why would you?

But there's a very
pretty little blue one,

with a miniature
framed in French paste.

It was made for
a German prince.

I forget who.

Unless it's been moved
for some reason.

But why would it be?

Can you help?

I shall be so grateful.

Our horse has
cast a shoe.

Is there a smithy nearby?

Ah, you can try old Crump
in the next village.

BOTH:
Thank you.

SYBIL:
See, help's at hand,

and at least it happened
on the way home.

Well, they'll be
worried about you,

and if they check
on me, I'm finished.

Is her ladyship
wearing that now?

Oh, no, this is
for Friday night.

I just thought I'd give it
a press while I had the time.

You don't know what's happened
to Lady Sybil, do you?

I've got the changes ready
for the other two,

but there's no sign of her.

Don't you start.

I've had Her Majesty
on at me all afternoon.

Mr. Carson says he'll fetch the
police if she's not back soon.

Sorry, Miss,

but Mr. Crump's staying over
at the Skelton estate tonight.

He's working
there all week.

Is there anyone else?

Not that I know of.

SYBIL:
Come on, Dragon, come on!

Dragon, if you don't move now,
I'll have you boiled for glue!

CORA:
What if she's overturned?

What if she's lying
in a ditch somewhere?

I'm sure she'll be back
in the shake of a lamb's tail.

The truth is they're all getting
too old for a mother's control.

They're growing up.

They've grown up.

They need their
own establishments.

I'm sure they'll all
get plenty of offers.

(sighs)

No one ever warns you about
bringing up daughters.

You think it's going to be like
Little Women.

Instead they're at each other's
throats from dawn till dusk.

You look done in.

I'll bring you some
food up later

when we've finished dinner.

Where were you?

You came up, then?

Of course I did, I had to change
for the afternoon.

Did you cover for me?

What do you think?

I don't suppose this had
anything to do with Lady Sybil.

Oh, Anna,
it was a nightmare.

I don't know how I got in
without being seen.

I'm sure I left a trail
of mud up the stairs.

So, did you get the job?

Well, we'll have
to wait and see.

Sorry to bother you, m'lady,

but your mother wanted you
to know Lady Sybil's back.

She's changing now, so dinner
won't be late after all.

What happened to her?

The horse went lame.

Is there anything else?

There is something
that's been troubling me.

You remember the Turkish
gentleman, Mr. Pamuk?

The one who died
all sudden-like?

Of course I remember.

Well, it's Daisy, m'lady.

The kitchen maid.

Only she's been
talking recently

as if she had ideas
about Mr. Pamuk's death.

What sort of ideas?

Well, I've no proof,
and maybe I'm wrong,

but I've a sense she knows
something but won't say what.

Something involving Lady Mary.

Well, how absurd.

What could she know?

Whatever it is, she won't say.

Not to us, anyway.

Have you spoken to Lady Mary
about this?

I didn't like to,
m'lady.

It seemed impertinent somehow.

But I thought someone in the
family ought to know about it.

Quite right.

Bring the girl to my room--
tomorrow after breakfast.

What did she want?

Nothing.

Just a message from Mama to say
that Sybil had turned up alive.

Poor darling.

She had to walk
for miles.

I don't think I'd have got down,
however lame the horse.

No, I don't believe
you would.

(birds chirping)

I couldn't say,
m'lady.

I don't know what
Miss O'Brien means.

I didn't see nothing.

Not much.

O'Brien, I wonder
if you might leave us?

Now, it's Daisy, isn't it?

Yes, m'lady.

I'm sure you see O'Brien
only acted as she did

because she is concerned.

I suppose so, m'lady.

She seems to think

that you are in possession
of some knowledge

that is uncomfortable for you.

(sniffling)

Because if that
is the case,

then I don't think it
fair on you.

Why should you be burdened
with Mary's secret?

My dear, my heart
goes out to you.

It really does.

Oh, there, there.

(softly crying)

You've been carrying
too heavy a burden for too long.

Just tell me, and I promise
you'll feel better.

VIOLET:
You seem well prepared.

They'll add a few more flowers
before we open in the morning,

but I think we're nearly there.

Do look at
Mr. Molesley's display.

He's worked so hard.

They're rather marvelous,
aren't they?

MARY:
Lovely.

Well done, Mr. Molesley.

Thank you, m'lady.

I think everyone
is to be congratulated.

It's splendid.

ISOBEL:
But do look
at these roses.

Have you ever
seen the like?

My dear Mrs. Crawley
believes I am profiting

from an unfair advantage.

Oh?

She feels in the past

I have been given the cup
merely as a matter of routine

rather than merit.

That's rather ungallant, Mother.

I'm sure when we see
Cousin Violet's roses,

it will be hard to think
they could be bettered.

Hard, but not impossible.

You are quite wonderful,

the way you see room for
improvement wherever you look.

I never knew such
reforming zeal.

I take that as a compliment.

I must have said it wrong.

(laughs)

Poor Granny.

She's not used
to being challenged.

Nor is Mother.

I think we should let them
settle it between them.

So, are you interested
in flowers?

I'm interested
in the village.

In fact, I'm on my way
to inspect the cottages.

You know what all work
and no play did for Jack.

But you think I'm a dull boy,
anyway, don't you?

I play, too.

I'm coming up for dinner
tonight.

I suspect I'm there
to balance the numbers.

Is it in aid of anything?

Not that I know of.

Just a couple of dreary
neighbors, that's all.

Maybe I'll shine by comparison.

VIOLET:
Mary, we're going.

Maybe you will.

(commotion)

CARSON:
Might I have a word?

I want to say something
before I ring the gong.

I'm afraid it's
not very pleasant.

His lordship is missing
a very valuable snuff box.

It appears to have been taken
from the case in his room.

If one of you knows
anything about this,

will he or she
please come to me?

Your words will be heard
in the strictest confidence.

Thank you.

I am sorry, Mr. Bates.

What an unpleasant thing
to have happened.

Why are you picking on him?

Because he's the only one of us
who goes in there.

But don't worry,
I'm sure it'll turn up.

Thank you for
your concern.

(bell ringing)

I hate this kind of thing.

I hope to God they find it.

Better get a move on.

(knocking on door)

I'm coming.

Does this brooch work?

I can't decide.

Charming.

Oh, dear, is it
another scolding?

Of course not.

You're too grown up
to scold these days.

Heavens.

Then it's really serious.

I'd like you to look after
Sir Anthony Strallan tonight.

He's a nice, decent man.

His position may not be
quite like Papa's,

but it would still make you
a force for good in the county.

Mama, not again.

How many times am I
to be ordered to marry

the man sitting next to me
at dinner?

As many times as it takes.

I turned down Matthew Crawley.

Is it likely I'd marry Strallan
when I wouldn't marry him?

I am glad you've come to think
more highly of Cousin Matthew.

That's not the point.

No.

The point is when
you refused Matthew,

you were the daughter of an earl
with an unsullied reputation.

Now you are damaged goods.

Mama...

Somehow, I don't know how,

there is a rumor in London
that you are not virtuous.

What?

Does Papa know about this?

He knows it and
he dismisses it.

because, unlike you and me, he
does not know that it is true.

Let's hope it's
just unkind gossip.

Because if anyone
heard about...

Kemal.

My lover.

Kemal Pamuk.

Exactly.

If it gets around,
and you're not already married,

every door in London will be
slammed in your face.

Mama, the world is changing.

Not that much,

and not fast enough for you.

I know you mean to help.

I know you love me.

But I also know what
I'm capable of,

and 40 years of boredom and duty
just isn't possible for me.

I'm sorry.

I do love you,
and I want to help.

I'm a lost cause, Mama.

Leave me to manage
my own affairs.

Why not concentrate on Edith?

She needs all the
help she can get.

You mustn't be
unkind to Edith.

She has fewer
advantages than you.

MARY:
Fewer?

She has none at all.

Open the oven!

Oh!

(screaming)

What's happened?

It's that bloomin' Daisy!

I've said she'll be
the death of me,

and now my word's come true!
I didn't do nothing!

ANNA:
Come and sit down.

Get away!

Get back to the stables!

What'll you serve now?

Them, of course.

I haven't got anything else.

Daisy give us a hand,
get that cloth.

What's the matter
with that?

Are you sure?

Shouldn't we tell?

Certainly not.

Is the remove
ready to go up?

Here we are.

Daisy, give him a hand
with the vegetables.

They're up in the servery
in the warmer.

Well, I'm glad I don't have
to eat them.

What the eye can't see,
the heart won't grieve over.

STRALLAN:
There's no doubt about it.

The next few years
in farming

are going to be
about mechanization.

That's the test, and we're going
to have to meet it.

Don't you agree,
Lady Mary?

Yes, of course,
Sir Anthony.

I'm sure I do.

Are we ever going to be
allowed to turn?

EDITH:
Sir Anthony,

it must be so hard to meet
the challenge of the future,

and yet be fair
to your employees.

That is the point, precisely.

We can't fight progress,

but we must find ways
to soften the blow.

I should love to see
one of the new harvesters,

if you would ever let me.

We don't have one here.

I shall be delighted.

I hope they find
that snuff box.

What happens
if they don't?

They'll organize a search,
won't they?

I wouldn't be
Mr. Bates.

Not for all the tea
in China.

ANNA:
Wouldn't you, Thomas?

I dare say he feels
just the same about you.

What's the matter with you?

Nothing.

Oh, just a minute.

I don't like
to put it on earlier.

It sinks in and
spoils the effect.

(inaudible conversations)

Mama has released me,
thank God.

Sir Anthony seems
nice enough.

If you want to talk farming
and foxes by the hour.

I'm rather looking forward
to the flower show tomorrow.

Where Mr. Molesley's roses
will turn everybody's heads.

But if you tell Granny I said
so, I'll denounce you as a liar.

I wouldn't dare.

I'll leave that
to my fearless mother.

(chuckling)

How are the cottages?

They're coming on wonderfully.

I'd love to show you.

Obviously,
it's an act of faith

at this stage.

Good God!

(gagging)

What on earth?

I do apologize,
Lady Grantham.

But I had a mouthful of salt.

What?

Everyone, put down
your forks.

Carson, remove this.

Bring fruit,
bring cheese,

bring anything to take
this taste away.

Sir Anthony,
I am so sorry.

ROBERT:
Fains I be Mrs. Patmore's
kitchen maid

when the news gets out.

SYBIL:
Poor girl.

We ought to send in
a rescue party.

You must think us very
disorganized.

No, not at all.

These things happen.

(laughter)

(sobbing)

ANNA:
Hey, come on.

It's not that bad.

Nobody's died.

MRS. PATMORE
I don't understand it.

It must have been that Daisy.

She's muddled
everything up before.

But I never...

Don't worry, Daisy.

You're not in the
line of fire here.

I know that pudding!

I chose it 'cause
I know it!

Which is why you wouldn't
let her ladyship

have the pudding she wanted,
because you didn't know it.

Exactly.

I don't see
how it happened.

Come on, everyone.

Let's give Mrs. Patmore
some room to breathe.

You, too.

I don't think
I should leave her.

Yes, you should.

Mr. Carson knows
what he's doing.

Don't do that.

Get William or the
hall boy to do it.

It's beneath your dignity.

It won't kill me.

Now...

All in your own good time.

I think you've got something
to tell me, haven't you?

ANNA:
I think I know where
that snuff box is.

Where?

Hidden in your room.

You don't think...

'Course I don't,
you silly beggar.

Then...

I bet Thomas'd like it if
they took you for a thief.

Yes, I expect he would.

Go upstairs now
and find it.

And when you have,

you can choose whether
to put it in Thomas's room,

or give it to me, and I'll slip
it into Miss O'Brien's.

You naughty girl.

Fight fire with fire.

That's what my mum says.

Poor Mrs. Patmore.

Do you think you should go down
and see her?

Tomorrow.

She needs time
to recover her nerves.

I knew there was
something going on.

It seems hard that poor Sir
Anthony had to pay the price.

Good God!

(laughter)

As for you giggling
like a ridiculous schoolgirl

with Cousin Matthew,
it was pathetic.

Oh, poor Edith.

I am sorry Cousin Matthew's
proved a disappointment to you.

Who says he has?

Matthew.

He told me.

Oh, sorry.

Wasn't I supposed to know?

You were very helpful, Edith,
looking after Sir Anthony.

You saved the day.

I enjoyed it.

We seemed to have
a lot to talk about.

Spare me your boasting,
please.

Now who's jealous?

Jealous?

Do you think I couldn't have
that old booby if I wanted him?

Even you can't
take every prize.

Is that a challenge?

If you like.

I could almost manage
for a long time

knowing the kitchen and
where everything was kept.

Even with that fool girl.

I think you might owe
Daisy an apology.

Maybe.

I've had a lot to put up with,
I can tell you.

And you've not
been to a doctor?

I don't need a doctor
to tell me I'm going blind.

A blind cook, Mr. Carson.

What a joke.

Whoever heard of such a thing?

A blind cook.

(sobbing)

I hope our salty pudding didn't
spoil the evening for you.

On the contrary.

I'm glad you and Mary
are getting along.

There's no reason
you can't be friends.

No, no reason at all.

I don't suppose
there's any chance

that you could
sort of start again?

Life is full
of surprises.

Ah, I've been waiting for you.

I've found a book over here

and I think it's just the thing
to catch your interest.

Oh, really?

STRALLAN: I'm intrigued.
What could it be?

I was very taken by what
you were saying over dinner...

STRALLAN:
So right, Lady Mary.

How clever you are.

This is exactly what
we have to be aware of.

There's a section just here
that I was rather unsure about.

It seems we have both been
thrown over for a bigger prize.

Heavens, is that the time?

You're not going?

The truth is my
head's splitting.

I don't want to spoil the party,
so I'll slip away.

Would you make my excuses
to your parents?

Excuse me, Sir Anthony.

Has Mr. Crawley left?

Yes, m'lady.

But what about the car?

Branson can't have brought
it round so quickly.

Well, he said he'd
rather walk, m'lady.

Thank you.

Mary can be such a child.

What do you mean, darling?

ROBERT
She thinks if you
put a toy down,

it'll still be sitting there

when you want
to play with it again.

What are you talking about?

Never mind.

Mr. Carson?

We were wondering
about that snuff box.

Has it turned up yet?

I'm afraid not.

Well, I think we
should have a search.

What?

It doesn't do to leave these
things too long.

Mr. Carson can search
the men's rooms,

Mrs. Hughes the women's.

And it should be right away,
now we've talked of it,

so no one has a chance
to hide the box.

Don't you agree, Mr. Carson?

Well, perhaps
it's for the best.

Although I'm sure
I won't find anything.

I'll fetch Mrs. Hughes.

I think I'll just...

I'd better check it's tidy.

THOMAS:
The bastard's hidden it
in my room or yours.

O'BRIEN:
Why did I ever listen to you
in the first place?

Miss O'Brien?

My, my.

You have been busy.

I was expecting you
later than this.

I'll tell Molesley
to lock up.

Thanks.

Goodnight, Mother.

How was your evening?

Did you enjoy yourself?

Quite.

The thing is,
just for a moment I thought...

never mind what I thought,
I was wrong.

Good night.

My word, Molesley,
splendid roses as usual.

Well done.

Thank you, your lordship.

All the stalls are set out
very well this year.

CORA:
This is enchanting.

Do we grow this?

I doubt if you've got that one,
your ladyship.

I've only just found it, myself.

CORA:
Is it a secret?

Or could you tell
Mr. Brocket?

I'd be glad to, m'lady.

CORA:
He should come and
see the rose garden.

He could give us
some ideas.

ROBERT:
Old Molseley's a champion.

Or he would be,
in a fairer world.

Don't you start.

I'm afraid I've been annoying
Cousin Violet on that score.

If Molesley deserves
the first prize

for his flowers,

the judges will
give it to him.

They wouldn't dare.

Really, Robert.

You make me so annoyed.

Isn't it possible I should
win the thing on merit?

I think the appropriate answer
to that, Mama, is "Yes, dear."

O'BRIEN:
I don't know why
we're bothering.

We'll have missed
the speeches as it is.

Don't be such a grouch.

You should have punished
one of them at least.

They know that I know;
that's worth something.

What do you think will
happen to Mrs. Patmore?

Oh, she'll muddle through
with Daisy for help.

In the long term,
we'll just have to wait

for the doctor
to give his opinion.

I hope there's
something they can do.

I hope so, too.

But if there isn't, I hope
they tell her there isn't.

Nothing is harder to live
with than false hope.

I wish you'd just
come out with it.

With what?

Whatever it is
you're keeping secret.

I can't.

You don't deny it, then?

No, I don't deny it.

And I don't deny
you've a right to ask.

But I can't.

I'm not a free man.

Are you trying to tell me
that you're married?

I have been married, yes,
but that's not all of it.

Because...

because I love you,
Mr. Bates.

I know it's not ladylike
to say it,

but I'm not a lady and
I don't pretend to be.

You are a lady to me.

And I never knew a finer one.

MAN:
If you want a lift, I can take
one of you, but not more.

One of the women.

No, you must go.

Then we can all hurry
and meet you there.

Yes, all right.

I mustn't slow you down.

There's been too much
of that already.

Have you recovered
from our ordeal?

I got a letter
this morning.

They must have written it as
soon as I left the office.

They are pleased
to have met me,

but I do not quite fit
their requirements.

So, it was all for nothing.

I don't agree.

Only a fool doesn't know
when they've been beaten.

Then I'm a fool,

for I'm a long way
from being beaten yet.

(applause)

VIOLET:
And now...

When you ran
off last night,

I hope you hadn't
thought me rude.

Certainly not.

I monopolized you at dinner.

I had no right
to any more of your time.

You see, Edith and I
had this sort of bet.

Please, don't apologize.

I had a lovely evening, and I'm
glad we're on speaking terms.

Now I should look
after my mother.

Why was Cousin Matthew
in such a hurry to get away?

Don't be stupid.

I suppose you didn't want him
when he wanted you,

and now it's the
other way round.

You have to admit
it's quite funny.

I'll admit that if I ever
wanted to attract a man

I'd steer clear of those
clothes and that hat.

You think yourself
so superior, don't you?

(sighs)

Well, I think she who laughs
last laughs longest.

CORA:
Did that missing box of yours
ever turn up?

ROBERT:
It was a fuss about nothing.

They must've put it back
on the wrong shelf

when they were dusting.

Bates found it
this morning.

Next time, have a proper look
before you start complaining.

I'm sure the servants were
frightened half to death.

Mea culpa.

And now, the Grantham Cup for
the Best Bloom in the Village.

And the Grantham Cup
is awarded to...

Mr. William Molesley...

for his Comptesse
Cabarousse rose.

Bravo! Well done!

Bravo!

Congratulations,
Mr. Molesley.

Thank you, m'lady.

Thank you for letting
me have it.

It is the judge's who decide
these things, not me.

But very well done.

Congratulations.

So well deserved.

Bravo, Mama.

That must have been
a real sacrifice.

And bravely borne.

I don't know what
everyone's on about.

But I...

All is well, my dear.

All is well.