All language subtitles for Downton.Abbey.S03E06.Episode.6.EAC3.2.0.1080p.WEBRip.x265-iVy

Thank you for coming.

I know we all sound
like parrots, Tom,

but I really would like
to help if I can.

And so would Mary.

My wife is dead.

I am past help.

But thank you.

The Southesks looked for you
to say good-bye.

I was here.

ISOBEL:
I hope you'll let me know

if there's anything I can do.

Anything at all.

Thank you.

I'll come with you.

Save him getting
the car out twice.

You're both very welcome to stay
for some dinner.

I don't think so.

Grief makes one
so terribly tired.

Good-bye, my dear.

Now that it's over,
try to get some rest.

Is it over?

When one loses a child,
is it ever really over?

Cheer up, Mr. Barrow.

A long face won't solve
anything.

Leave him alone.

He knew Lady Sybil better
than any of us.

Except you.

We were the two
who really knew her.

I'd say your grief
speaks well for her.

Thank you for that.

Thank you for saying that.

ETHEL:
Are you sure you wouldn't
like this laid

in the dining room, ma'am?

No, thank you.

I'd like to eat quickly
and have an early night.

How was the service?

Oh, quite nicely done.

But you know how it is
when you bury someone young.

When you lose your child.

There's nothing worse
under the sun.

I was wondering if I...

might try to take her
out of herself.

Perhaps give a little
lunch party, nothing formal.

Just Lady Grantham
and the girls.

And I could cook
something special.

Well, we don't have
to decide that now.

But I don't understand
why they haven't let him out.

Mr. Murray hasn't been
to see Mrs. Bartlett yet,

and when he does,

she may not want to repeat
the things she said to me.

Well, she must be made
to repeat them.

Even then,
would we have enough

to overturn the verdict?

How can we prove
she was cooking that pie

and not something else?

Because something else
would have been found.

Look, I'm not saying
it'll all be done by Tuesday.

But this is the moment
we've all been waiting for.

What's the matter?

It is so nice of you
to say "we."

I mean it.

We need some good news
in this house, Anna.

And this is it.

This must be it.

I thought I might move
back in here tonight.

If you'll have me.

Not yet.

I think I'd rather sleep alone
for a while yet.

Well, if you're sure.

I'm sure.

Cora...

Let's not go through
it all again.

But I'm not arguing.

You listened to Clarkson
and so should I have done.

But Tapsell has a reputation
as an expert.

And you believed him.

When Dr. Clarkson knew
Sybil's history and he did not.

You believed Tapsell

because he is knighted
and fashionable

and has a practice
in Harley Street.

You let all that nonsense
weigh against

saving our
daughter's life.

Which is what I find
so very hard to forgive.

Do you think I miss her
any less than you?

I should think
you miss her more.

Since you blocked
the last chance we had

to prevent her death.

I'll say good night, then.

Good night.

How is the baby doing?

I envy her.

She doesn't know
a thing about it.

We ought to think
about getting a nurse.

Mrs. Rose will leave
once the baby is weaned.

Perhaps a local girl?

But I'm not staying.

Or at least,
just until I find a job.

Well, there's no rush.

God, no.

Tom's right.

He has to start to make a life
for himself sometime.

EDITH:
Sometime, yes.

But not right away.

And anyway,

now that
the funeral's over,

we ought to think
about the Christening.

Do you know what you'd
like her to be called?

I'd like to call her Sybil.

Of course.

You don't think it might
be a little painful?

Very painful at first.

But I think it's right.

I want to remember her mother
whenever I look at her.

Of course you do.

And she would want
to be remembered.

I'll go and see Mr. Travis
this afternoon.

Why Mr. Travis?

To fix the date.

But Sybil will be Catholic.

What?

My daughter is Irish
and she will be Catholic.

Like her father.

It's time I started
my morning.

Mrs. Patmore!

Oh, Ethel?

Mrs. Patmore, I wonder if I
could ask for your advice?

Well, I...

I suppose you know I'm working
for Mrs. Crawley now

at Crawley House?

I had heard.

She's been ever
so kind to me

and I'd hate her
to suffer for it.

You see, she's hired me
as cook-housekeeper,

but to be honest,
my cooking's a little rusty.

Oh, yes?

She's giving a lunch party

to help her ladyship
in her sorrow.

I know she'll tell me
to keep it simple,

but I'd like to surprise her
with something really nice.

Our ladyship?

Mrs. Crawley wants
to show sympathy.

I know you'd not want
to stop her.

Of course not.

So might you help me
prepare a few dishes?

You just tell me
how to make them.

I'll do the work.

Please?

Look, I don't mean to be
rude or personal, Ethel,

but Mr. Carson has
made it very clear that...

That no one from the house is
to have any dealings with me.

But surely you're not afraid
I'll corrupt you, are you?

I am not!

Then why should Mrs. Crawley
be punished

for showing me kindness?

You don't look as optimistic
as you did, Bates.

Something wrong?

Not that I'm aware of,
Mr. Durrant.

Really?

You seem downcast.

I wondered if some scheme
to improve your lot

had gone awry.

If you know something
that might suggest

my fortunes have taken a turn
for the worse, Officer,

perhaps you'd be kind enough
to share it with me.

Am I kind enough to share it
with him, Craig?

No, I don't think I am.

Did you hear about Tom's
announcement at breakfast?

He wants the child
to be a left-footer.

Papa, I know it's
hard for you...

There hasn't been a Catholic
Crawley since the Reformation.

She isn't a Crawley,
she's a Branson.

The only chance that child
will have

of achieving anything in life

is because of the blood
of her mother.

Well, I don't agree.

And besides, Sybil...

That's another thing.

I think it's ghoulish
to call her after Sybil.

Well, I don't.

No, there's no need to cook.

Just fetch some ham
from Mr. Bakewell

and make a light salad.

You can't go wrong
with that,

and Lady Grantham
won't want more.

I'd like to make
a bit of an effort.

To show our sympathies.

It's a nice idea, Ethel,
but I'd like to keep it safe.

I'll walk up
to the house later.

VIOLET:
What is your plan
for the child?

What do you mean?

Well, if Branson
takes her away

to live with him in Liverpool
or wherever he comes to rest,

then presumably
it will be his influence

that governs her upbringing.

I hadn't thought about that.

Then I suggest you do,
and soon.

What does Cora say?

Not much.

Not much to me, anyway.

She still holds you responsible?

She's wretchedly unhappy,
if that's what you mean.

I will not criticize a mother
who grieves for her daughter.

I think she's grieving for her
marriage as well as for Sybil.

Robert, people like us
are never unhappily married.

(sighs)

What do we do if we are?

Well, in those moments,

a couple is "unable to see
as much of each other

as they would like."

You think I should go away?

Or Cora could go to New York
to see that woman.

It can help to gain
a little distance.

(sighs)

I can't seem to think straight
about any of it.

My dearest boy.

There is no test on earth

greater than the one
you have been put to.

I do not speak much

of the heart, since it's seldom
helpful to do so,

but I know well enough the pain
when it is broken.

Thank you, Mama.

Don't you two have
any work to do?

We're cleaning
silver later,

but Mr. Carson told us
to wait for him.

I wouldn't mind your hours.

What's the matter?

You look very...

Very what?

I don't know exactly.

Stop gabbing, Ivy,

and remember you've my work
to do tomorrow

as well as your own.

Are you off to see
the rich farmer?

Whatever he makes,
he earns it.

Oh, it'd be nice
to be your own boss.

No farmer is his own boss.

He takes his orders
from the sun and the snow

and the wind and the rain.

Oh, I see.

Is this the new Servants' Hall?

What have they done
with the old one, I wonder?

What are you staring at?

A cat can look at a king.

But not at a cook.

Now get on with whatever it is
you're doing.

I'll be back before the gong.

I don't know
what I'm doing here.

You're here
because you're kind.

Am I?

Right, this is a list
of what you'll need.

I'll come in on Thursday morning
and see how you're getting on.

Can I really do it?

Salmon mousse?

Anyone who has
use of their limbs

can make a salmon mousse.

Lamb Chops Portmanteau'd?

I don't know...

Surely you can cut up

a bit of chicken liver
and some parsley?

Oh, why not just serve 'em
bread and cheese, then,

and have done with it?

You're right--
I'll give it a go.

Forgive me for barging in,

but I have a little plan.

Oh, goodness,
you've changed.

It's much later
than I realized.

We're rather prompt.

Robert's invited Mr. Travis
to dine with us.

So what was your plan?

Well, I was wondering
if you and the girls

might come to me
for luncheon on Thursday.

Do I count as one of the girls?

Of course!

You're very kind,

but I'm not really
going out at the moment.

There'll be no one else there,

only me.

And a walk to the village

might blow some cobwebs away.

I'm afraid I would only bring
my troubles with me.

Hello, Mother.

What brings you here?

VIOLET:
She's just invited

Cora and Edith and Mary

to come to luncheon
on Thursday.

Oh, how kind.

Thank you.

Isobel.

Have you come for dinner?

Oh, no,
I'm dressed quite wrongly

and I know you have a guest.

I doubt Mr. Travis has
much of an eye for fashion.

Oh, do stay.

We need cheering up.

Can you manage?

Of course I can.

Sorry.

I didn't mean
to insult your manhood.

(laughing)

She didn't mean that, either.

Now get on.

ALFRED:
Are you looking forward

to your outing
with Mr. Mason?

I am.

It's a lovely place.

You should go with her.

Or I could come out with you.

You know the trouble
with you lot?

You're all in love
with the wrong people.

Now take those upstairs!

But isn't there something
rather un-English

about the Roman Church?

Well, since I am an Irishman,
that's not likely to bother me.

I cannot feel
bells and incense

and all the rest
of that pagan folderol

is pleasing to God.

I see.

So is He not pleased
by the population of France?

Or Italy?

Not as pleased as He is

by the worship
of the Anglicans, no.

EDITH:
South America?

Portugal?

Have they missed
the mark, too?

I do not mean
to sound harsh.

I'm sure there are many
individuals from those lands

who please Him.

MARY:
And the Russians?

And the Spanish?

There must be many
good Spaniards.

MATTHEW:
And we haven't even started
on the non-Christians.

There's the whole Indian
subcontinent to begin with.

And the British Empire,
does He approve of that?

If you mean does He approve

of the expansion
of the Christian message,

then yes, I think He does.

ROBERT:
And so do I.

Poor Mr. Travis,
you're all ganging up on him.

Well, you and Granny
are ganging up against Tom.

VIOLET:
Not me.

The Dowager Duchess of Norfolk
is a dear friend.

And she's more Catholic
than the Pope.

ROBERT:
I simply do not think
that it would help the baby

to be baptized into a different
tribe from this one.

She will be baptized
into my tribe.

ROBERT:
Am I the only one
to stand up for Sybil?

What about her wishes?

Sybil would be happy
for the child to be a Catholic.

How do you make that out?

Because she said so.

To me.

On the day she died.

Did she?

Oh God, did she really?

I'm flabbergasted.

You are always flabbergasted
by the unconventional.

But in a family
like this one...

Not everyone chooses their
religion to satisfy Debrett's.

CARSON:
I've no great wish
to persecute Catholics,

but I find it hard to believe
they're loyal to the Crown.

Well, it'll be a relief
for them to know

you no longer want them
burned at the stake.

I don't believe in orthodoxy.

That's a long word.

A man can choose
to be different

without it making him
a traitor.

I agree.

ANNA:
I don't like
discussing religion.

We'll only fall out,

and surely it's
our private business.

Amen.

It's funny though,
isn't it?

All that Latin
and smelly smoke

and men in black dresses.

I'm glad I'm Church
of England, me.

Really, and what do you feel
about Transubstantiation?

You what?

CARSON:
Never mind, Alfred.

Your heart's
in the right place.

I can't say that for everyone
under this roof.

MATTHEW:
When Sybil was talking about
the baby being a Catholic,

did you get the sense
that she knew?

I'm not sure.

Not at the time,

but of course
I've asked myself since.

You'd think we'd be used
to young death

after four years of war.

That's why we must never take
anything for granted.

Which is what I'm trying
to get Robert to see.

He wasn't given Downton
by God's decree.

We have to work
if we want to keep it.

But not only Downton.

Us.

We must never take us
for granted.

Who knows what's coming?

Well, I have to take
one thing for granted:

that I will love you

until the last breath
leaves my body.

Oh, my darling, me, too.

Me, too.

But this is quite different
from the story you told before.

I don't think it is.

I'm afraid so.

You said you went
to Mrs. Bates's house

after you'd eaten
your evening meal

and that she was in the process
of cooking hers.

Well, I had just eaten
when I saw her, that's true,

but it was dinner at midday.

Mr. Bates was going to call
on her that afternoon.

But, uh...

You described how
the light from the gas lamps

caught the rain and made
a kind of halo round her.

(scoffs)

That sounds rather
fanciful for me.

So you do not remember
saying it?

I don't remember
because I never said it.

I see.

As a matter of interest,

why did you let me
come here today

if nothing you could say
would alter the verdict?

I thought it was time you saw
how real people live.

(humming)

Where's Daisy?

Gone off to play the milkmaid.

Do you like dancing?

'Course she likes dancing.

Everyone likes dancing.

I love the foxtrot, don't you?

It's all right.

What about you, Alfred?

Alfred wouldn't do
the Foxtrot,

would you, Alfred?

He takes himself

too seriously
for that.

Well, I love it.

I think it makes you glad
to be young.

(footsteps approaching)

Me, run this farm?

Are you serious?

Not right away,
but eventually.

But I'm a cook.

And you think there's
no cooking on a farm?

You could do a cracking trade

with jams and jellies
and cake and all sorts.

You could sell them
at the fairs.

But I'm a woman.

Are you?

Well, I never knew that!

There are widows
who take on a tenancy,

and you're liked
in the big house.

They'll not refuse you.

I own the equipment,
all the stock,

and I've quite a bit
put by.

It's hard work,
but you're used to that.

I can't answer now.

No, of course not.

But think on it.

And think on this an' all.

My dream would be
if you were to come here

and live with me
so I could teach you.

But I always thought I'd
spend my life in service.

You have 40 years of work
ahead of you.

Do you think these great
houses like Downton Abbey

are going to go on just as
they are for another 40 years?

Because I don't.

You wanted to speak to me,
Lady Grantham.

Yes, on a melancholy matter,
I'm afraid.

Please.

I want to talk
a little more

about the death
of my granddaughter.

A terrible, terrible tragedy.

But now I am concerned
beyond that.

Oh?

Are you worried for the child?

No, not especially.

No, she seems quite
a tough little thing.

Dr. Clarkson, my daughter-in-law
is quite convinced

you could have saved Sybil,
had you been allowed to.

Well...

One can never speak of these
things with any certainty.

Well, this is the point.

What was the likelihood
of Sybil's survival?

Had we operated?

She might have lived.

There are cases
where an early caesarian

saved the mother
after preeclampsia.

How many cases?

Not many, I admit.

I'd need to do some research.

I want you to tell
Lord and Lady Grantham

what you have almost
admitted to me.

But there was a chance.

Dr. Clarkson.

You have created a division
between my son and his wife

when the only way they can
conceivably bear their grief

is if they face it together.

So you want me to lie to them

and say there was
no chance at all?

"Lie"...

is so unmusical a word.

I want you to review
the evidence honestly

and without bias.

Even to ease suffering,

I could never justify
telling an outright lie.

Have we nothing in common?

MATTHEW:
It's badly run,

and it makes no sense
to manage it separately.

What about the tenant?

We'd look after him.

He's growing
barley and wheat.

I'd say he'd do better
with sheep.

Exactly,
we'd merge the grazing.

How do you know that?

How do you?

After spending all your
growing years in Manchester.

I've been on a steep
learning curve

since arriving at Downton.

My grandfather was
a tenant farmer in Galway,

with black-faced sheep.

So there's a country boy
inside the revolutionary.

Not much of one.

You must hate it here.

No, I don't hate it.

But I don't
belong here either.

What will you do?

I've thought of Liverpool.

There might be something
for me there.

And the baby?

(sighs)

I'll hire a woman

or get a cousin over
to take care of her.

I don't know.

What else can I do?

You could leave her here.

No.

I'll not be separated
from her.

She's all I have left
of her mother.

Right.

You know what
you're doing?

I think so, yes.

Use an alarm clock
to remind you

when to put things in the oven
and when to take them out.

I will.

You've done well, Ethel.

Maybe you've also
done yourself a favor.

I'm very grateful.

(sighs)

I expected her
to deny everything

the moment she realized
her testimony would release me.

You know, she did say
every word of it.

Of course.

But I'm afraid
someone tipped her off

before I went to see her.

I think I know who.

The question remains as to
what we do next.

I wonder what Mrs. Bartlett
is thinking at this moment.

That she's glad Mr. Bates
is still in prison.

No, I'm not sure.

It's a big thing for a woman
like that to lie to a lawyer.

To flout the law.

They would have bribed her
to do it.

Or frightened her.

Well, we cannot offer a bribe.

But perhaps we can try
to persuade her

into returning
to the path of truth.

Let me see what I can do.

Nothing foolish.

You mustn't do
anything stupid.

Promise me.

Leave it with me, Mr. Murray.

I don't understand.

I can smell cooking.

It's quite simple, ma'am.

You'll be pleased,
I promise.

I've had help.

And I suppose there's no ham
and there's no salad?

(doorbell ringing)

If this luncheon
is a failure, Ethel,

I shall hold you
responsible.

(door slams)

Oh, I'm sorry if
I've kept you waiting,

but I had to send up
the luncheon.

It's good of you
to spare the time.

Oh, it's all right.

I've only the men to cook
for today, and they're easy.

What were you doing
at Crawley House this morning?

Who says I was
at Crawley House?

I saw you coming out.

Oh, I see.

Well, Mrs. Crawley was giving
a luncheon party, and I...

And you were helping Ethel.

I suppose I was.

Against my strict instructions
to give the place a wide berth.

Now, Mr. Carson,

no one disputes your position
as head of this household,

but I am not sure
that you are entitled

to dress down Mrs. Patmore
in this way.

Of course, if Mrs. Patmore
wants to spend her time

frolicking with prostitutes.

Do I look like a frolicker?

May I ask who was expected
at this precious luncheon?

Her ladyship, the young ladies
and the Dowager.

You have allowed a woman
of the streets to wait at table

on members of our family?

Oh, I am speechless.

(sighs)

I would guess he won't
stay speechless for long.

I really need to spend a day
with the agent

to talk it through.

Jarvis has a lot
on his plate.

Yes, of course,
but I want to...

Must we discuss this now?

It's very boring
for Tom.

I don't...

Tom is your
son-in-law,

and his daughter
is your only grandchild.

None of which gives him a word
in the running of this place.

Or would you like
to involve Carson

or the maids
or people in the village?

I really...

Robert, we have to act

if we are to avoid
another crisis.

At the moment,
the capital

is leaking into the cracks
caused by bad management.

Bad management?

We'll discuss it later.

(door opens)

M'lord, I wonder
if I could have a word?

Can't it wait?

No, m'lord, it can't.

Mr. Carson's got a real bee
in his bonnet.

What's that about?

Never you mind.

Ivy, have you been running?

No, why?

Oh, your color's up.

I hope you're not
coming down with something.

How was your day off, Daisy?

Lovely, thank you.

What are you doing?

With your day off?

What I usually do.

I'm going somewhere on me own.

MRS. PATMORE:
You never give up,
do you?

He's not interested.

Well, he must be interested
in someone.

He's young, isn't he?

But that someone
is not you.

How was Mr. Mason?

Very well,
as nice as usual.

What is it?

He wants me to go
and live at the farm,

because he wants to leave me
the tenancy and all his stock

and all his tools and all
his money and everything.

My Lord.

You're a proper heiress.

I haven't said yes yet.

But he's made the offer.

And a very generous one
it is, too.

He's ever so generous.

And so kind.

This was very good.

It was.

It really was.

Don't sound so surprised.

I am surprised.

I owe Ethel an apology.

I've underestimated her.

I sometimes wonder
if I should learn to cook.

Why?

You never know.

It might come in handy one day.

And I've got
to do something.

What did you say to that editor
who wanted you to write for him?

I haven't said anything yet.

It's probably too late now,
anyway.

Matthew tells me
Robert was against it.

What difference
does that make?

Oh really, my dear, shh.

We're all family.

I'm not letting the side down.

I'm just saying that Robert
frequently makes decisions

based on values that have
no relevance anymore.

Do you think I should do it?

I wouldn't countermand
your father.

Then why bring it up?

Well, I do,
and so does Matthew.
(door opens)

And so does Matthew what?

What else has Matthew
decided for my family?

Robert...

Don't worry,
I don't need to be fed.

We're going,
all of you, now.

What are you
talking about?

Do you know who has prepared
this luncheon for you?

Yes, Ethel,
our former housemaid.

Who bore a bastard child!

What?

Robert, Ethel has
rebuilt her life.

Has she? Do you know
what she has built it into?

What do you mean?

ISOBEL:
I think Cousin Robert
is referring

to Ethel's work
as a prostitute.

Well, of course,
you know these days

servants are very hard to find.

I don't think you understand

the difficulties
she's had to face.

I couldn't care less
how she earns her living!

Good luck to her!

What I care about is

that you have exposed
my family to scandal!

But who would know?

I can't tell you
how people

find out these things,
but they do.

Your gardener,
your kitchen maid, your...

I suppose she has an appropriate
costume for every activity.

We're leaving.

Is this because
of me, m'lord?

No, it's because
of his lordship.

And we're not leaving.

Is that a Charlotte Russe?

How delicious.

I hope it's tasty, m'lady.

Mrs. Patmore
gave me some help.

I'm glad to know that
Mrs. Patmore has a good heart

and does not judge.

Is anyone coming?

It seems a pity to miss
such a good pudding.

Who went to Mrs. Bartlett?

Who got her
to change her evidence?

Who is Mrs. Bart...

Durrant.

Well, now Durrant
is going to tell her

the police are on to her

and she's going
to wind up inside

if she doesn't
change her story.

Change it to what?

To the truth.

Or else what?

Or else I go to the Governor.

I tell him how you and Durrant
are bringing in drugs

and trying to get me
to sell them for you.

That's a lie.

And Durrant will lose his job

and you will stay here
five years longer.

No, he went down there
and told them

and none of them came away.

Not even the Dowager?

My, my.

Perhaps the world is
becoming a kinder place.

You say kinder.

I say weaker
and less disciplined.

Well, if her ladyship is
prepared to visit Crawley House,

I dare say you won't
object when I do.

I won't forbid it because
I have no right to do so,

but I do object
with every fiber of my being.

But you disappoint me.

I never thought of you
as a woman with no standards.

I wish you'd come back
to the drawing room.

I'd only set
your mother's teeth on edge.

She'll come through it.

She will.

Which brings me
to your performance today.

How did that help?

I was angry with Isobel
for exposing you all to gossip.

You were angry,
all right.

But not with Isobel
or Ethel.

I think it's because the world
isn't going your way.

Not anymore.

Has Matthew told you about
his latest plans for Downton?

I know he wants
to change things.

Oh, doesn't he just.

You mustn't let him
upset you.

He's more or less told me

I've let the estate
fall to pieces.

I'm sure he didn't
mean that.

Didn't he?

"A fool and his money
are soon parted."

And I have been parted
from my money,

so I suppose I am a fool.

You won't win
over the christening.

Not if you're against me.

I'm never against you.

But you've lost on this one.

Did Sybil truly not mind?

She wanted Tom to be happy.

She loved him very much,
you know.

We all need to remember that.

I keep forgetting
she's gone.

I see things in the paper
that would make her laugh.

I come inside to tell her that
her favorite rose is in bloom,

and then suddenly...

Say that to Mama.

Please.

She doesn't want to hear it
from me.

How is she doing?

She's blooming.

You mean they stayed
in her house?

Even after they knew?

I expect they didn't want
to insult Mrs. Crawley.

I couldn't have swallowed
another bite.

Not once I knew.

Jesus managed to eat
with Mary Magdalene.

Now, we can't be sure
that he ate with her.

He did allow her
to wash his feet.

I see.

Well, I'll tell Ethel
she has a treat in store.

What's the matter
with you?

I'm sorry, but...

MRS. PATMORE:
Ivy?

We haven't finished yet.

(under her breath):
We've never finished.

(upbeat piano music playing)

What's this?

Rouge?

Have you been painting
your face?

It's not like the old days,
Mrs. Patmore.

All the girls do it now.

Not in this house,
Miss Hussy!

Go and wash!

We'll see no more of it!

It's nice to know we've another
piano player in the house.

Unless you think
it's too soon?

Oh, no.

Lady Sybil was
a bright young thing.

She'd be glad of some music.

You play well, James.

There's no end
to Jimmy's talents, is there?

His lordship wants you.

(music stops)

I wish he wouldn't do that.

What?

He's always touching me.

I'm going to tell Mr. Carson.

You'd never.

I'd tell the flippin' police
if it'd make him stop.

I must go.

I need to fetch some linen,

and her ladyship
won't be long now.

* Somebody stole my...

What are you doing?

Nothing.

It didn't look like nothing.

Can you dance the foxtrot?

I think so.

Yeah, I can.

Would you teach me?

Well, I'm supposed
to lay the tea.

And here's me thinking
you'd like to dance with me.

Go on, then.

How do you put
the hands?

Like this.

You do...
that foot goes back first.

It goes...
Right.

It goes slow, slow,

quick, quick, slow.

Slow, quick, quick, slow.

Slow, quick, quick...

M'lady!

It's arrived!

It's here!

I wanted you to be
the first to know!

Know what,
what's arrived?

He's done it!

Mr. Murray's done it!

He's got her
to make a statement.

Witnessed and everything.

So when will Bates
be set free?

It will take a few weeks
for the formalities,

but he'll be released.

Mr. Murray's quite clear
about that.

So Mr. Bates
is coming home.

Oh, I am so,
so happy for you.

I know you are.

Have you told Papa?

Not yet, m'lady.

Oh, do,
please do.

He's very low just now,

and it will be wonderful
for him to hear something good.

Have you seen
this note from Mama?

I have.

I wonder what she wants.

I can stand anything but
a lecture on marital harmony.

(laughs)

Do we have to go?

I think so.

But we needn't stay long.

Good.

You look very nice
this morning.

Don't flirt with me, Robert,
not now.

(door closes)

I'm ever so sorry
to interrupt, m'lord,

but Mrs. Bartlett has given
a statement that'll clear him.

At least, Mr. Murray says

"it will make
the verdict unsafe."

So Mr. Bates is coming back
to Downton.

Isn't it marvelous?

Yes, that is absolutely
marvelous.

Do you want
to telephone Murray?

If you do, tell Carson.

He'll manage it for you.

Why, are you going out?

Your grandmother
has asked us to call.

But I'll hear
what he says later.

I really am so very glad.

Excuse me!

What are you doing here?

I'm sorry, Mr. Carson,

but I wanted to thank
Mrs. Patmore

and I've brought
these flowers.

When we want flowers, there are
plenty in the gardens here.

How nice of you, Ethel.

Mrs. Patmore is
in the kitchen.

I hope you never need
a favor from your fellow man.

You can talk
as tough as you like.

I know you won't
abandon me.

Well, then, why doesn't
that thought make you kinder?

Because I am who I am,
Mrs. Hughes.

Slow, slow,
quick, quick,

go back, slow...

(laughing)

Look at the pair of you.

Alfred's learning the foxtrot.

I bet he is.

But he's going to have
to do better than that.

What do you mean, why?

Well, he's only learning it
to please our Ivy.

Aren't you, m'laddo?

Is that true?

Well...

Of course it is,
you runner bean.

Now step aside,

and let me show you
how it's done.

(humming)

CARSON:
What is going on here?

At a time like this,
of sober dignity!

Have you lost all sense

of shame and
propriety, sir?

What makes you think you're
the stuff of a first footman?

It's Alfred who looks like
a first footman to me.

Take a leaf from his book
and learn to conduct yourself

with discretion!

But Mr. Carson,
he was the one who...

Silence!

You are a disgrace
to your livery.

And as for you, Daisy,

have your years here
taught you nothing?

Thanks for speaking up.

I don't suppose
you'll want to practice...

I'm very busy.

Why don't you ask Ivy
if she's got any spare time?

Dr. Clarkson.

Lady Grantham,
how are you?

Much as you'd
expect me to be.

VIOLET:
Dr. Clarkson has
something to tell you,

which may alter your view
on things a little.

I don't mean to be
discourteous, but I doubt it.

Since you're here, I have
a few words of my own to say.

I feel I owe you an apology.

Please, Lord Grantham,
if you'll just allow me.

On that awful night,

I am afraid I may have
given you the impression

that my recommended
course of treatment

offered a real chance

for Lady Sybil's
survival.

The truth--

and I've done a great deal
of research since,

as you can imagine--

is that the chance
was a small one.

A tiny one, really.

I'd read that early delivery
was the only way

to avoid the trauma,
and it is.

As you tried so hard
to tell us.

But... what I did
not quite realize

was that eclampsia
is almost invariably fatal,

with or without
a Caesarian.

Had you agreed, we would have
subjected Lady Sybil

to the fear and pain
of a hurried operation,

when in all likelihood
she would have died anyway.

But...

there was a chance.

An infinitesimal one.

The discomfort
and the terror

would have been
all too certain.

So you think Tapsell
was right?

Oh, I cannot go that far.

Sir Philip Tapsell
ignored all the evidence

in the most unhelpful
and I may say arrogant manner.

But Sybil was going to die.

When everything is weighed
in the balance,

I believe that Lady Sybil
was going to die.

And now I'll take my leave.

(door opens)

(sobbing)

(door closes)

(both crying)