All language subtitles for Downton.Abbey.S02E02.Episode.2.EAC3.2.0.1080p.WEBRip.x265-iVy

(birds chirping)

A letter for you, William.

Why on earth are
you doing that?

Well, someone's got to.

Yes, indeed they do,

and that someone is William
or one of the maids.

You're making work
for yourself Mr. Carson,

and I've no
sympathy with that.

I'm not asking
for sympathy.

I don't think it
should be...

What?

Oh for heaven's sake, man, if
something's wrong, put it right!

I'm sorry Lang,
I don't mean to snap.

Nothing to worry
about, m'lord.

You've been in the trenches;
I have not.

I have no right to criticize.

I'm not a soldier now.

You've been invalided out.

That is perfectly honorable.

Is it?

I know people look at me and
wonder why I'm not in uniform.

Then you refer them to me,

and I'll give them
a piece of my mind.

Hmm?

(sighs)

Penny for
your thoughts.

MRS. PATMORE:
They're worth a great
deal more than that,

thank you very much.

What is it?

My papers, they've come.

I've been called up.
Oh... you never have.

What does it mean?

I'm to report for my
medical next Wednesday,

and once I'm through that
I go to Richmond for training.

And then you go to war?

With any luck.

I'll be beggared if it's over
before I get there.

Well, if they'd listen to me,
it'd be over by teatime.

Daisy, I wonder,

would you give me a picture
to take with me?

I haven't got one.

Well, then have one taken.
On your afternoon off, please.

That's enough.

Let her get on
with her work.

How is Thomas coming along?

I wish he could be
treated at our hospital here.

Well, it's only
for officers.

Of course.

Although, ideally, he'd love
to be transferred there.

To work.

He won't be sent back
to the front?

Not with his hand
the way it is.

It's such a pity he isn't
under Dr. Clarkson.

We might have been able
to influence him a bit.

I should hope so.

Why, without this family
and all the money you've spent,

his precious hospital
wouldn't exist at all.

Perhaps I'll ask his advice--
you never know.

I was sure you'd have a good
idea of what to do for the best.

MATTHEW:
Fancy a tour in England, Davis?

I assume you're
having me on, sir.

Not at all.

General Sir Herbert Strutt
has asked for my transfer

to be his ADC.

He's touring England to boost
recruitment,

and he's remembered that I know

Manchester and Yorkshire
pretty well.

It'll mean a couple
of months at home
and a promotion to captain.

I can't object to that.

I've only got a few days
before the medical, m'lady.

CORA:
Then go and tell
your father.

You don't mind, do you, Carson?

We must manage with no footmen
at all from next Wednesday.

It'll be no different
if we start now.

And you've always got Lang.

CORA:
We wish you every
good fortune.

Don't we, darling?

We certainly do.

Good luck, William.

Thank you, m'lord.

So, both my footmen
have gone to the war,

while I cut ribbons
and make speeches.

And keep people's spirits up,
which is very important.

By God, I envy them, though.

I envy their self-respect

and I envy their ability
to sleep at night.

O'BRIEN:
Mr. Carson doesn't like
the smell of cleaning materials

in the servants' hall.

Not just before luncheon.

Come on,
Miss O'Brien.

We don't want to be
unfriendly, do we?

You obviously don't.

Never mind.

Finish it now you've started,
but don't blame me

if Mr. Carson
takes a bite out of you.

(clears throat)

Hello, Mr. Lang.

Everything all right?

Why do you say that?

No reason.

I only meant I hope you're
enjoying yourself.

I know I would be,
in your shoes.

You never tried for the job,
I never got the chance.

I'd no sooner heard that Mr.
Bates was gone than he arrived.

(chuckles)

What brings you here,
Mr. Molesley?

I was wondering if Anna
was anywhere around.

I could find her
if you like.

No, no, no, no.

Just give her this.

We were talking about it
the other day,

and I came across
a copy in Ripon.

Elizabeth and Her
German Garden.

Whatever's that about?

It's about an invitation
to talk some more, that's what.

CORA:
Goodbye, Doctor Clarkson.

CLARKSON:
Lady Grantham?

I'd love to help,
but it's not within my power

to hook men from hither
and thither as I please.

That's not at all
what I was asking.

Forgive me, but I thought
you were saying

that you wanted Corporal Barrow
to come and work here

when he's fully recovered.

I think it a credit to him

that he wants to continue
to serve in this way,

after he's been wounded.

Well, that's as maybe,

but it's not for me
to decide what happens next.

(sighs)

Mr. Carson,
are you quite well?

Oh, leave me alone.

(strains)

Oh, are you all
right, Carson?

Of course.

That is, perfectly all right,
your ladyship, thank you.

Uh, no.

EDITH:
Cousin Isobel says

Matthew's coming home
in a fortnight.

He's touring England
with some general.

ROBERT:
We'll have a dinner
when he's here.

I was going to ask Richard
Carlisle about then.

For Saturday to Monday.

VIOLET:
You be careful, Mary.

Sir Richard mustn't think
you're after him.

Isn't that the truth?

The truth is neither
here nor there;

it's the look of the thing
that matters.

Ask Rosamund.

It'll take
the edge off it.

That'd be nice.

Like before the war.

How can we manage
a great pre-war house party

without a single footman?

My dear,
Rosamund is not a house party.

She's blood.

I saw Mrs. Drake
when I went into the village.

The wife of John Drake,
who has Longfield Farm.

Oh? What did she have to say?

Apparently, their final
able-bodied farmhand

has been called up.

They need a man
to drive the tractor.

Well, hasn't Drake recovered
from his illness?

I thought he was better.
No, he is.

He's much, much better.

But he doesn't drive.

So I told her I could do it.

What?

I said I could drive
the tractor.

VIOLET:
Edith,

you are a lady,
not Toad of Toad Hall.

Well, I'm doing it.

EDITH:
Don't look so bewildered.

It's simple.

I will drive the tractor.

Can you do that?

Absolutely.

Can you hitch up the plough
or whatever it is I'm dragging?

Of course.

When would you like me to start?

Well, I'd better get you
something to wear then.

Oh, I like a bit of life
in the house,

but I just hope Mr. Carson
doesn't spontaneously combust.

I had a letter
yesterday.

Yes?

It's my sister's boy,

he's with the
Lancashire Fusiliers.

Only he's gone missing.

"Missing, presumed dead,"
they call it.

Oh, no.

How did it happen?

That's just it,
they can't find out

how it happened,
why it happened,

whether we can be sure
it did happen

or he isn't lying
prisoner somewhere.

Why not ask his lordship?

He'll have friends
in the War Office,
they can dig something up.

Oh, I don't like
to bother him.

Why not?

He's got broad shoulders.

That's ever so fine,
Mr. Lang.

However can you make those big
hands do such delicate work?

I expect there's no end
to the things they could manage.

Giving you a slap
for a start.

That is good.
Very good.

I like to see a proper skill.

These days, blokes think
they can be a valet

if they can smile
and tie a shoelace.

But there's an art to it,
and I can tell you've got it.

My mother taught me.

She was a lady's maid, like you.

Well, she knew
what she was about.

Oh, Mr. Lang,
as you know,

Sir Richard Carlisle
arrives later

and the Crawleys
are coming for dinner tonight.

I really can't have maids in the
dining room for such a party,

so I'd be grateful
if you'd help me

and play the footman.

Me?

Wait at table?

Well, it's not ideal,
but I'm afraid I've no choice.

The footmen's liveries
are in the cupboard

just past Mrs. Hughes's
sitting room.

You should find one to fit you.

ROBERT:
I'm not sure what I can do,
but I'm happy to try.

What's his name?

Archie.

That is,
Archibald Philpotts.

He was in the
Lancashire Fusiliers.

They think he was
in northern France.

You realize
the most likely outcome

is that he has indeed
been killed?

I understand m'lord.

But we'd rather know
the worst than wonder.

Mmm.

Ah.

Oh, hello
Mr. Molesley.

What are you doing here?

I asked inside, and they said
you were over in the laundry.

Lady Mary wants
to wear this tonight.

I wasn't sure
it was done.

I was really wondering if you'd
had a chance to read that book.

You only gave it
to me yesterday.

Of course, of course.

But when you have read it,

I hope we can
exchange our views.

That'd be nice.

Perhaps we might bring
some of the others in.

We could have a sort
of reading club.

We could do that.

Or we could talk about
it together, just we two.

Heavens.

It's later than I thought.

I must get on.

(door opens)

I'm off to change,
but I wanted you to know

I sent a note down to Clarkson
which should do the trick.

What did you say?

Only that I gathered
you'd asked a favor

and, given that the estate
shoulders the hospital costs,

it did seem
a little unfair

if we weren't allowed
a few perks.

Quite right.

Thank you, darling.

Well done, m'lady.

(tractor engine running)

Ready?

Ready!

(gears grinding)

Come on, damn you.

(cheering)

To the victor,
the spoils.

Did you plant that tree?

Steady on.

It must be 40 years old.

It's not a flattering light.

(chuckles)

My father planted it.

But you have to be
tough with fruit trees

and not let them
outstay their welcome.

Farming needs a kind
of toughness, doesn't it?

There's room for sentiment
but not sentimentality.

Beautifully put,
if I may say so, m'lady.

You should be a writer.

Thank you.

How are you getting on?

Very well, I think.

And it's not
too hard for you?

Not at all.
She's stronger than she looks.

I've brought you something
to eat, m'lady,

though I'm afraid it's not
what you're used to.

Hey, it's not for you.

So it is you.

Ethel thought I must have
a soldier fancy man.

Is she the new maid?

Yes.

She's a soppy sort.

So, tell me,

was Doctor Clarkson thrilled
to have your services?

Oh, it's Major Clarkson now,
but yes.

I don't know
how you did it.

What about your Blighty?

My God.

It's not so bad.

And it lived up to its name
and got me home.

You'd better come inside.

THOMAS:
Where's William?

DAISY:
Training for the army.

I thought he might have died
for love of you.

Don't be nasty.
Not as soon as you're back.

Imagine Carson
without a footman.

Like a ringmaster
without a pony.

We'll have none of your cheek,
thank you, Thomas.

I'm very sorry, Mrs. Hughes,
but I'm not a servant anymore.

I take my orders
from Major Clarkson.

Who's this?

O'BRIEN:
Ethel, the new maid.
I told you.

When I saw you out there,

I didn't realize I was
dealing with an ex-footman.

I'm the one that got away.

Gives hope to us all.

Ethel, get ready to help
with the luggage.

They're nearly back
with Sir Richard.

We've got a visitor,
Mr. Carson.

I've seen him.

Where's Mr. Bates?

O'BRIEN:
Gone.

Replaced by Mr. Lang.

So not all
the changes were bad.

Hello.

We're so pleased to have
you here, Sir Richard.

Lady Grantham.

Welcome.
Thank you.

I hope the train
wasn't too tiring.

Not a bit.

Hello, Mary.
No, I got a lot done.

Hello, Aunt Rosamund.

Brother, dear.

How are you?

Lovely to see you,
Rosamund.

He's nice, isn't he?

To be honest,

he spent the entire journey
reading his own papers.

But I'm sure
I'll love him dearly

if he'll ever look up
from the page.

Branson, when you've
finished unloading,

run down to the hospital

and remind Lady Sybil that
we expect her here for dinner.

And tell her I mean it.

Really, they're working her
like a packhorse in a mine.

I think she
enjoys it, though.

Please tell her to come
home in time to change.

SYBIL:
I can't possibly come!

Really, Mama is incorrigible.

It's not poor Branson's fault.

SYBIL: But what is the
point of Mama's soirées?

What are they for?

Well, I'm going up for dinner
tonight and I'm glad.

Is that wrong?

Thomas, you can cover
for Nurse Crawley, can't you?

I can.

So you're back then,
safe and sound.

That's not how I'd put it,
with my hand the way it is.

But yes, Major Clarkson's
found me a place.

And I'm grateful.

Can you give Lieutenant
Courtenay his pills?

Of course I can,
I'd be glad to.

(door opens)

Is everything
under control?

Mr. Lang seems a bit nervous.

Stage fright.

But what about you?

Oh, I'm a trooper.

And we can't
complain, can we?

Not when you think
what's going on in France.

Still, a broken heart
can be as painful

as a broken limb.

Don't feel sorry for me,
Mrs. Hughes.

I'm not.

I know what real love is,

and there aren't many
who can say that.

I'm one of the lucky ones.

If you say so.

So the fashion for
cocktails before dinner

hasn't reached Yorkshire?

I could get Carson
to make you one,

but I won't guarantee
the result.

CARSON:
Mrs. Crawley,

Captain Crawley
and Miss Swire.

Ah, Isobel.

Well now, still
in one piece, thank God.

Touch wood.

I never stop
touching it.

MARY: Do you know
Sir Richard Carlisle?

My cousin,
Captain Crawley.

CARLISLE:
How do you do?

ROBERT:
And his fiancée, Miss Swire.

I know Miss Swire.

Her uncle and I
are old friends.

Well, old acquaintances, anyway.

SYBIL:
What do you think
Mary sees in him?

Besides the money,
you mean?

It must be more than that.

For you.

Not necessarily for her.

ROBERT:
What's General Strutt like?

MATTHEW:
You know.
Rather important.

And brave.

He got the DSO
in South Africa.

Is there any chance
it might be permanent,

that we can count you
out of danger?

It would be
such a relief.

I wouldn't want that,
I'm afraid.

He's promised to get me back to
France when he's done with me.

How's your new appointment with
the North Ridings working out?

Oh, that.

It seems I won't be going
to the front after all.

I made a mistake.

They only wanted a mascot.

Mary tells me
you're in newspapers?

Well, I own a few.

Oh?

That must be quite
a responsibility

at a time like this, you know,
in a war, when it's so important

to keep people's
spirits up.

Lady Grantham, my responsibility
is to my investors.

I need to keep my readership up.

I leave the public's spirits
to government propaganda.

So now you've met Granny.

I warn you,
she has very strong opinions.

You need have no fear where
that's concerned, my dear.

We are more than evenly matched.

Where are the spoons
Just here.

Oh my God,
I've forgotten the sauce.

Mr. Lang's bringing the sauce
and the Melba toast.

Right, right.
Good.

Now, Mr. Lang, are you ready?

I think so.

It's always the left,
and not ladies first?

No.

Just follow Mr. Carson.

Start with old lady Grantham,
then his lordship.

Then just go on round.

You must have done
this before?

Not since the war started.

I don't think
I ever knew that.

Why isn't it just ladies first?

Wouldn't it be more polite?

That's the way it's done
on the continent.

And we don't like
foreign ways here.

I gather your footman, Thomas,
has returned to the village.

Crikey, where did
you see him?

At the hospital.
Seems he's working there.

I wonder how
he wangled that.

No, no, no.

Get back!
Behind me!

(quietly):
What do you make
of our plutocrat?

ROSAMUND:
He's an opportunity.

Mary needs a position
and preferably a powerful one.

He can provide it.

You don't think she'd be happier
with a more traditional setup?

Will she have the option?

Thank you,
but I already have some.

No, no,
give that to me.

(screams)

I do apologize, m'lady!

I...

Mr. Lang, get a cloth.

(groaning)

Carson?

Carson, what's the matter?

MARY: Now, Carson,
Everything will be fine.

Edith, go with Branson
and fetch Major Clarkson.

I'll telephone and explain
what's happened.

And what about my dress?

Edith, we'll get you a coat!

Come!

Sybil will know what to do
until the doctor comes.

You'll find there's never
a dull moment in this house.

MATTHEW: Lady Sybil and I
will take him upstairs.

If Mrs. Hughes
will show us the way, please.

I can help.

No, let me,
I know what I'm doing.

I'm sure that's
not necessary, m'lady.

It's not m'lady now, Carson.

MRS. HUGHES (whispers):
Mr. Lang.

SYBIL:
It's Nurse Crawley.

MRS. HUGHES:
Mr. Lang.

Anna and Ethel,
I must trust the dinner to you.

ETHEL: Well, I'd say
the first course

is a thing of the past.

Then clear and lay
the hot plates.

Daisy, you fetch the beef
and the rest of it.

And Anna, you'll have
to serve the wine.

Mr. Lang,
you can clear up the mess.

I'll do that.

There's no need.
I don't mind.

I thank you.

Mr. Lang, you'd better
go downstairs.

Well, Clarkson's seen him.

It's definitely not a heart
attack, but he does need rest.

He's working much
too hard.

For a start,

he's just got to let the maids
serve in the dining room.

Quite right.

There is a war.

Even Carson
has to make sacrifices.

Poor Lang!

He looked like a rabbit
in front of a snake.

I don't understand it.

He seemed so solid
when I met him, even taciturn,

but now he's a bundle of nerves.

I heard what you said to Matthew
about the regiment.

Everyone else knows what a fool
I made of myself.

Why shouldn't he?

I don't think you're a fool.

Isn't that enough?

No.

Maybe it should be,
but it isn't.

(bombs exploding,
gunfire echoing)

(gasps)
O'BRIEN: Are you
all right, Mr. Lang?

You're not, are you?

I've seen shell shock before,
you know.

I had a brother with it.

My favorite brother,
as it happens.

And I was his favorite too.

They sent him back
and he's dead now.

They won't send me back.

I'm a goner as far as
they're concerned.

You shouldn't be working yet.

I must work.

I don't know what I'd do else.

I have to work.

Mr. Lang?
I thought you'd gone up.

He wanted to hang up the livery
before it got creased.

Well, we can discuss
the dinner another time.

I'll say goodnight.

Goodnight, Mrs. Hughes.

LANG:
Goodnight.

May I come in?

That's very kind of you, m'lady,

but do you think you should?

Let's hope my reputation
will survive it.

And rest easy.
Please.

I gather it isn't
too serious.

Oh, I've been very stupid,
m'lady.

I let myself get flustered.

I regard that as highly
unprofessional.

It won't happen again.

You mustn't be too hard
on yourself.

I was particularly sorry
to spoil things for Sir Richard,

knowing he was
a guest of yours.

Don't be.

I think he found it all
quite exciting.

Will we be seeing
a lot of him?

I don't know.

Maybe.

And Captain Crawley?

Is he happy with the changes,
so to speak?

May I give you one piece
of advice, m'lady?

Tell him what's in your heart.

If you still love him,
let him know.

Then, even if he's killed-- and
he may be-- you won't be sorry.

If you don't tell him, you could
regret it all your life long.

And what about Miss Swire?

Oh, Miss Swire?

As if any man in his right mind
could prefer Miss Swire to you.

Oh, I'm so sorry,
m'lady.

I didn't know
you were in here.

I was just going.

Carson's been

boosting my confidence.

That's something I'd never
have thought she was short of.

What about you, sir?

What did you do
before the war started?

I was up at Oxford.

But I only ever planned to farm.

Farm and shoot

and hunt and fish...

and everything
I'll never do again.

You don't know that, sir.

We've had cases of gas blindness
wearing off.

Rare cases.

And much sooner than this.

It doesn't help me
to be lied to, you know.

I'm finished.

And I'd rather face it
than dodge it.

I'd better go.

ROBERT:
Where's Rosamund?

CORA:
She's with your mama,

trying to talk her
into the idea of Sir Richard.

You don't sound
very enthusiastic.

Are you?

Can we stop
for a minute?

Don't tell me
you're tired.

I'm not tired, I'm hot.

This tweed is too thick.

It looks more suited
to shooting than walking.

I had it made for the weekend.

I didn't know there
was a difference.

It doesn't matter.

That's like the rich who say
that money doesn't matter.

It matters enough
when you haven't got it.

I know you don't care
about our silly rules.

You're always very clear
on that score.

You make me sound rude,
and I hope I'm not that.

I mean to learn how
to do things properly

and I'm sure
you could help me a lot.

But I'm not ashamed of being
what they call a self-made man.

I'm proud of it.

Is the point of all this
to test me in some way?

Maybe.

Are you shocked by my bold
and modern values?

Oh, Sir Richard,
you flatter yourself.

It takes a good deal more
than that to shock me.

ROSAMUND:
But Mama,

who do you imagine is out there
with more to offer?

I am not a romantic.

I should hope not.

But even I will concede
that the heart does not exist

solely for the purpose
of pumping blood.

That is charming,
especially from you.

But Mary seems to have blotted
her copybook in some way.

So she needs

a suitable marriage
that will mend her fences.

How do we know Carlisle
is suitable?

I mean, who is he?

Who'd ever heard
of him before the war?

Sir Richard is powerful

and rich, and well
on the way to a peerage.

Of course he may not be
all that one would wish,

but Mary can soon smooth off
the rough edges.

Well, you should know.

What do you mean by that?

Marmaduke was a gentleman.

Marmaduke was the grandson
of a manufacturer.

His mother was the daughter
of a baronet.

Maybe.

But they were no great threat
to the Plantagenets.

The point is I made up
for any social deficiencies

and he provided me
with a position.

It was a good exchange
and it worked well.

How can Matthew have chosen
that little blonde piece?

You speak so eloquently
of the human heart, Mama.

You must be aware
of its vagaries.

Things cannot be as they were
and, whatever you might think,

Jack has your best
interests at heart.

Stop.

Who's Jack?

My younger brother.

He means to replace me.

It's what he's always wanted.

Yeah, well...

I'm sorry.

I mustn't bore you.

Don't let them walk
all over you.

You've got to fight
your corner.

What with?

Your brain.

You're not a victim.

Don't let them
make you into one.

You know when you talk like
that, I almost believe you.

Well, you should
believe me.

All my life,
they've pushed me around

just because I'm different.

How? Why are you different?

Never mind.

Look...

Look, I...

I don't know if you're going
to see again or not.

But I do know you
have to fight back.

LAVINIA: How dare
you threaten me!

How dare I?

Oh, I assure you, I dare
a great deal more than that.

LAVINIA:
But you can't.
You wouldn't!

CARLISLE:
I didn't say I would.

I was merely reminding you
it was in my power.

Lady Painswick.
Lady Rosamund.

I'm sorry, I'll get these things
sorted out before too long.

It's not important.

Miss Swire and I were just
talking about old times.

Happy old times, I hope.

Will you forgive me?

I want to write some letters
before dinner.

Let's have a rest.

We've earned it.

I should have gone in
for a glass.

I don't suppose you can
drink out of a bottle,

can you, m'lady?

I wish you'd
call me Edith.

And of course I can drink
from the bottle.

Would you like me
to teach you to drive?

Not much.

'Cause then you wouldn't
come here no more.

Although that wouldn't
matter to you.

Why do you say that?

You're pretty and
clever and fine.

You're from
a different world.

Is something wrong?

No.

We're just
having a break.

Because you want to get in
to town to fetch the bone meal

and be back in time to feed
the cows before it's dark.

They could always have
a midnight feast.

(laughter)

THOMAS:
That's it.

That's right, sir.

If you move the stick
fast enough,

you don't have
to slacken your pace.

And check the width
of the space

as well as any
possible obstruction.

CLARKSON:
Lieutenant Courtenay.

Well done.

You're making
good progress.

Thanks to my
saviors, sir.

So you'll be pleased to hear
that we're all agreed

that it's time
for you to continue
your treatment elsewhere.

What?

At Farley Hall.

You're not ill anymore.

All you need is time
to adjust to your condition,

and the staff at Farley
can help with that.

But sir, these two
are helping me here.

Oh, Nurse Crawley
and Corporal Barrow

are not trained
in specialist care...

Please don't send me away.

Not yet.

Sir, surely we...

Lieutenant, you must know that
every one of our beds is needed

for the injured and dying
from Arras.

Hmm?

Corporal, I'll see you
in my office.

Sir, I only meant to say

that Lieutenant Courtenay
is depressed...

I will not leave
wounded soldiers

freezing or sweating
under canvas

because one junior officer
is depressed!

(knock on door)
Yes?

I thought you may want
to know what I think.

Why should I?

Nurse Crawley,

I may not be your social
superior in a Mayfair ballroom,

but in this hospital
I have the deciding voice.

Please help him prepare
his belongings.

He leaves first thing
in the morning.

Anna and Ethel
will wait at the table
and I will supervise.

What's wrong with that?

Nothing.

Except that it's
how a chartered accountant
would have his dinner served.

I can think
of worse insults.

If you say so.

But I don't want Lang
allowed anywhere near it.

Oh, Mr. Bates, where are
you when we need you?

Can you bring me
the wine ledgers

and I'll make a selection?

His lordship's
already done that.

Just try to rest.

To rest or to feel redundant?

Both, if it'll slow you down
for a minute and a half.

The world does not turn
on the style of a dinner.

My world does.

How does he know Miss Swire?

What?

Miss Swire.

They were in the garden
when I came back from Mama's.

I suppose they
met in London.

(door opens)

Would you like me
to come back later, m'lady?

No, come in.

I was just leaving.

How's Carson getting on?

Oh, much better, m'lady.

Mrs. Hughes is having a job
keeping him in bed.

He gave me some
advice last night.

Oh, yes?

Was it good advice?

It was about honesty.

He thinks I should say

what I really feel.

Sounds a bit wild
for Mr. Carson.

But do you think he's right?

Well, they do say honesty
is the best policy.

And I think you regret
being honest

less often than you
regret telling lies.

(quietly crying)

He must have smuggled
a razor into his bed.

There was nothing
to be done.

It's because we
ordered him to go.

We don't know that.

This is a tragedy,
I don't deny it.

But I cannot see what other
course was open to me.

We have no room for men
to convalesce here

and Farley is the nearest
house I can send them to.

There is a solution.

And it's staring us
in the face.

Downton Abbey.

(scoffs):
Would they ever allow it?

Or even consider it?

I think they would.

After this,
I think they can be made to.

(train whistle blows)

But Sir Richard,
you don't have...
Richard, please.

You see, I want you
to marry me.

Why?

Because I think
very highly of you.

Very highly?

Goodness.

I mean it.

I think we'd do well together.

We could be a good team.

Now, that sounds better.

But I can't help thinking

that tradition demands
a little mention of love.

Oh, I can talk about love
and moon and June

and all the rest of it,
if you wish.

But we're more than that.

We're strong and sharp

and we can build something
worth having, you and I,

if you'll let us.

Your proposal is improving
by leaps and bounds.

You must give me some time,

but I promise
to think about it.

Properly.

I'm counting on it.

(busy din)

Right to the other end,
back you go.

Her ladyship had Mrs. Patmore
make this up for you.

So you could eat something
during the day.

Oh, I won't
have time.

Oh, Matthew.

I'm afraid I'm very busy,
as you can see.

Yes, I just want to help.

Right over there.

Is it what you thought
it would be?

No.

No, it's more savage
and more cruel

than I could
have imagined.

But, I feel useful
for the first time in my life.

And that must be
a good thing.

SYBIL:
Matthew, are you busy?

No, of course not.

BRANSON:
So you wouldn't go back

to your life
before the war?

No.

No, I could never go
back to that again.

(bell tolling)

(sniffling)

Lavinia?

What's the matter?

Are you looking
for Matthew?

I was.

But it's not important.

Tell me what it is.
Please.

He has to go a day early.

Tomorrow morning,
in fact.

Only to meet his general,
surely?

Not back to France?

But he must go back one day,

and I can't stop
thinking about what I'd do

if anything happened to him.

I know he'll be all right.

No, you don't.

None of us do.

We say that sort of thing,
but we don't know.

If he died, I don't think
I could go on living.

What's doing?

Excuse me.

Lavinia's a bit upset.

She's awfully cut up
that I have to go early.

But it's only to Coventry, which
doesn't sound too dangerous.

If you're looking for Mother,
she's at the hospital.

I've just come from there.

Actually, it's you
I came to see.

Oh? How can I help?

Mary, can you stay for luncheon?

I can't, but thank you.

So, what was your mission?

Just to say...

we hope you're still coming
for dinner tonight.

Certainly we are.
Why wouldn't we?

Sure?

It'll be your last evening.

Why? Don't you want me?

Of course I want you.

Very much.

I'm sorry you've had
a wasted journey.

Not at all.

I needed an excuse for a walk.

I'll see you at 8:00.

Ethel said you wanted me.

No, no, I just need a word
with you.

If it's about that book,
I'm afraid...

No, no, no it's
not about the book.

What is it, then?

I understand that
Mr. Bates has gone

for good.

Yes.

I believe that's true.

So I was hoping we
might be able to see

a little more of each other.

Mr. Molesley, I take this
as a real compliment.

But it's not going to happen.

No.

You see, if you had a child and
that child was taken from you,

if the child was sent
to the moon,

there'd never be one day when
they were out of your thoughts,

nor one moment when you weren't
praying for their welfare.

Even if you knew
you'd never see them again.

And that's you and Mr. Bates.

That's me and Mr. Bates.

But thank you.

I've kept you too long.

You'd better get back
or they'll come looking for you.

We've done a lot,
haven't we?

We have.

I'll be forced
to invent some tasks,

or there'll be no need
for you to come much more.

Then start inventing.

Please.

I will.

Because I'd hate it
if you were to stay away.

So would I.

I'd absolutely hate it.

I can't believe
I've done that.

EDITH:
I'm awfully glad you did.

DRAKE:
You'll have me
thrown in the tower.

EDITH:
Only if they
give me the key.

Fold it in, don't slap it.

You're making a cake,
not beating a carpet.

Oh, sorry your lordship,
I didn't see you there.

It's quite all right,
Mrs. Patmore.

I wonder is there somewhere
we could have a word?

Uh...

Why not go into
my sitting room?

ROBERT:
Please sit.

I do have some news
of your nephew.

I telephoned the War Office and
they have just come back to me.

But I'm afraid
it's not good news.

I knew he was dead all along.
I said so to my sister.

I said, "Kate," I said,

"he's gone and you'll
have to face..."

Mrs. Patmore,
it's worse than that.

What can be worse
than being dead?

Private Philpotts was shot

for cowardice
on the 17th of February.

Oh, my God.

This explains
why the regiment

was reluctant
to supply information.

Mrs. Hughes,
could you come in, please?

ROBERT: Mrs. Patmore
has had some bad news.

Her nephew has been killed.

Oh, he never has.

MRS. PATMORE:
And that's not all...

It is all, Mrs. Patmore.

Let us make sure
it is all.

Your sister needs to know
no more than this.

We cannot
know the truth.

We should not judge.

I think it's a ridiculous idea!

Why?

Because this is a house,
not a hospital.

MARY:
But Granny,

a convalescent home
is where people

rest and recuperate.

But if there are relapses,
what then?

Amputation
in the dining room?

Resuscitation in the pantry?

Oh, it would certainly be the
most tremendous disturbance

if you knew how chaotic
things are as it is.

But when there's
so much good can be done.

(slams cane on floor)

I forbid it!

To have strange men prodding
and prying around the house,

to say nothing of pocketing

the spoons.

It's out of the question!

I hesitate to remind you,

but this is my house now,
Robert's and mine,

and we will make the decision.

VIOLET:
I see.

So now I'm an outsider
who need not be consulted?

Since you put it
like that, yes.

What was it like
at the hospital today?

At the front, the men pray
to be spared, of course.

But if that's not to be,

they pray for a bullet
that kills them cleanly.

For too many of them today,

that prayer had not
been answered.

We'll eat in
about 20 minutes.

WILLIAM:
Good.

And would you have any to spare
for a poor traveler?

DAISY:
William!
I don't believe it.

Pinch me.

I am your dream
come true.

You're like
a real soldier.

I am a real soldier,
thank you very much.

Now, come and give me a kiss.

MRS. PATMORE:
Oh, we'll have
none of that.

Won't you let a Tommie kiss
his sweetheart, Mrs. Patmore,

when he's off
to fight the Hun?

Have you finished
your training?

Not yet.

But it won't be
long now.

Well, on the eve
of departure, we'll see.

But right now,
put her down.

So, what do you think?

Smart, ain't it?

(sighs)

ANNA:
William?

What a treat to see you,
and how smart you look.

Welcome.
Thanks.

Supper won't be long.

I'm just going up
to clear the dining room.
Shall I help?

Course not.

You're in the army now.

So, still full of
the joys of warfare?

I'm not sorry to be
part of it, Mr. Lang,

and I can't pretend I am.

Oh, yes, you're part of it.

Like a metal cog is part
of a factory,

like a grain of sand
is part of the beach.

It's all right, Mr. Lang,
I understand.

And I'm not saying I'm
important, or owt like that.

But I believe in this war.

I believe in what we're fighting
for and I want to do my bit.

Then God help you.

Edith seems jolly tonight.

She's found
her metier.

Farm laboring.

Don't be so
tough on her.

That's like asking the fox
to spare the chicken.

What about you?

Last time you told me
good news was imminent.

Would you be happy
if it were?

Of course.

I've found someone now,
and I want you to do the same.

If you'd taken another minute
to make up your mind, sir,

we'd all have marched
over the cliff!

(laughter)

WILLIAM: And I'll tell you
something else as well...

William's got more to say
than a Parliamentary candidate.

What's the matter?

I know it's my fault,

but I wish I hadn't
let him think

that we're like sweethearts,
because we're not.

Not by my reckoning,
anyway.

Too late for second thoughts
now, Missy.

You don't have to marry him
when it comes to it,

but you can't let him go to war
with a broken heart,

or he won't come back.

What a time we've had.

Poor Sir Richard
must have thought

he'd come to a mad house.

I don't expect
it'll put him off.

I'm going to accept him.

Do you think I should?

That's not for me to say.

If you love him
more than anyone in the world,

then of course you should.

It's not as simple as that.

No?

It is for me, but then,
I'm not your ladyship.

Did you love Bates more than
anyone else in the world?

I did.

I do.

I'll never love again
like I love him.

Never.

Well, there you are, then.

One day you'll meet
someone else and you'll marry.

Perhaps it will be second best,

but it doesn't mean
you can't have a life.

I think it does, for me.

Are you sure you should
be doing this, Carson?

We've managed very well
with Mrs. Hughes.

Quite sure, m'lord.

And breakfast is not
a taxing assignment.

Edith, this is
a message for you.

Mrs. Drake writes that they've
decided to hire a man,

so they won't be
needing you anymore.

Is that all she says?

Well, she's very grateful.
Here we are.

She says she and Drake
send their thanks to you

for giving up so much
of your valuable time.

I expect it's rather a relief.

Oh, I wouldn't say that.

Not entirely.

Has Lady Sybil
gone already?

She had a tray
at half past 6:00.

ROBERT:
She would.

Carson, have they told you we're
to be turned into a hospital?

MARY:
A convalescent home.

I'm afraid we've all bullied
you into the whole thing.

I hope you're not
dreading it too much.

Not dreading it exactly,

but it's a brave new world we're
headed for, no doubt about that.

We must try to meet it with as
much grace as we can muster.