OPENING CREDITS
EXT. THE VILLAGE
GWEN: When does it open?
BATES: Tomorrow afternoon.
GWEN: Well, let’s get up a party in the evening, if Mrs Hughes lets us, after we’ve had our dinner.
ANNA: You’re right. It doesn’t come often and it doesn’t stay long.
GWEN: Well, what about you, Mr Bates?
BATES: I don’t see why not.
ANNA: Well, there’s Lady Mary. You go on ahead. I’ll see you back at the house.
GWEN: Right you are, then.
ANNA: Good day, milady. Is Her Ladyship all right? Has she recovered from...?
MARY: If you think she’ll ever recover from carrying the body of Mr Pamuk from one side of the house to the other, then you don’t know her at all.
ANNA: Well, I didn’t mean recover, exactly, just...get past it.
MARY: She won’t do that either. When she dies, they’ll cut her open and find it engraved on her heart.
ANNA: What about you? What about your heart?
MARY: Haven’t you heard? I don’t have a heart. Everyone knows that.
ANNA: Not me, milady.
INT. LIBRARY
CARSON: You wanted to see the new chauffeur, my lord.
ROBERT: Yes, indeed. Please send him in. Come in, come in. Good to see you again. Branson, isn’t it?
BRANSON: That’s right, Your Lordship.
ROBERT: I hope they’ve shown you where everything is and we’ve delivered whatever we promised at the interview.
BRANSON: Certainly, milord.
ROBERT: Won’t you miss Ireland?
BRANSON: Ireland, yes, but not the job. The mistress was a nice lady, but she only had one car and she wouldn’t let me drive it over twenty miles an hour, so it was a bit…well, boring, so to speak. You’ve got a wonderful library.
ROBERT: You are very welcome to borrow books if you wish.
BRANSON: Really, milord ?
ROBERT: Well, there’s a ledger over there that I make everyone use, even my daughters. Carson and Mrs Hughes sometimes take a novel or two. What are your interests?
BRANSON: History and politics mainly.
ROBERT: Heavens. Carson, Branson is going to borrow some books. He has my permission.
CARSON: Very good, my lord.
BRANSON: Is that all, milord?
ROBERT: It is. Off you go and good luck.
Branson exits.
ROBERT: He seems a bright spark after poor old Taylor. And to think Taylor’s gone off to run a tea shop. I cannot feel it will make for a very restful retirement, can you?
CARSON: I would rather be put to death, my lord.
ROBERT: Quite so. Thank you, Carson.
EXT. DOWNTON ABBEY, GROUNDS
VIOLET: How about some house parties?
CORA: She’s been asked to one next month by Lady Ann McNair.
VIOLET: That’s a terrible idea. She doesn’t know anyone under a hundred.
CORA: I might send her over to visit my aunt. She could get to know New York.
VIOLET: Oh, I don’t think things are quite that desperate. Poor Mary, she’s been terribly down in the mouth lately.
CORA: She was very upset by the death of poor Mr Pamuk.
VIOLET: Why? If she didn’t know him, one can’t go to pieces at the death of every foreigner. We’d all be in a state of collapse whenever we opened a newspaper. Oh, no, of course Mary’s main difficulty is that her situation is unresolved. I mean, is she an heiress or isn’t she?
CORA: The entail’s unbreakable. Mary cannot inherit.
VIOLET: No, what we need is a lawyer who’s decent and honour bound to look into it. And I…I think, perhaps, I know just the man.
INT. CRAWLEY HOUSE
MATTHEW: You going to the fair while it’s here.
MOLESLEY: I shouldn’t think so, sir. But I don’t mind it. I like the music.
ISOBEL: Goodness, what’s happened to your hands?
MOLESLEY: It’s nothing, ma’am.
ISOBEL: They look very painful.
MOLESLEY: Oh, no, ma’am. Irritating more than painful.
ISOBEL: Have you been using anything new to polish the silver or the shoes?
MOLESLEY: No.
ISOBEL: May I?
MATTHEW: Leave him alone, Mother.
ISOBEL: It looks like erysipelas. You must have cut yourself.
MOLESLEY: Not that I’m aware of.
ISOBEL: We’ll walk ‘round to the hospital tomorrow.
MOLESLEY: Really, ma’am…
ISOBEL: I insist.
INT. KITCHENS
ANNA: Ugh.
MRS PATMORE: You’ve got a cold, I want you out of here.
HUGHES: Anna, there you are. You know I’m out tonight, because I don’t want to come home to any surprises.
MRS PATMORE: That’ll be the day.
ANNA: We thought we might go to the fair later. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Daisy?
MRS PATMORE: You ought to go. She’s been that down in the mouth since the death of poor Mr Pamuk.
DAISY: Don’t say that.
MRS PATMORE: She has.
ANNA: We could all walk down together after the service dinner if that’s okay.
MRS PATMORE: You won’t be walking anywhere. She’s got minutes to live by the sound of it.
HUGHES: Go to bed at once.
ANNA: Yes, Mrs Hughes.
HUGHES: I’ll bring up a Beecham’s powder. Right, if there’s anything you want to ask me, it’ll need to be before I go.
MRS PATMORE: What would I want to ask you? I’m preparing a meal for Lord and Lady Grantham and the girls. No one is visiting. No one is staying.
HUGHES: Well…that’s settled, then.
INT. DOWNTON COTTAGE HOSPITAL
NURSE: I’m afraid Dr Clarkson’s out delivering a baby. We don’t know when he’ll be back.
ISOBEL: No matter. If you’ll just open the store cupboard, I can easily find what I need.
NURSE: Well, I…
ISOBEL: You can tell the doctor that opened the cupboard for the chairman of the board. I assure you, he will raise not the slightest objection. This should do it. Tincture of steel, ten drops in water three times a day. And this is solution of nitrate of silver, rub a little in morning and night.
MOLESLEY: How long before it’s better?
ISOBEL: Erysipelas is very hard to cure. We should be able to reduce the symptoms, but that might be all we can manage. Oh, and you must wear gloves at all times.
MOLESLEY: I couldn’t…wait a table in gloves. I’d look like a footman.
ISOBEL: You may have to. The tincture and the salve will help. Try it for a week and we’ll see.
INT. HAVEL AND CARTER
ATTORNEY ASSISTANT: Someone to see you, Mr Crawley.
MATTHEW: Well, there’s nothing in my diary.
ATTORNEY ASSISTANT: It’s Lady Grantham.
MATTHEW CRAWLEY: Well, in that case, show her in at once. Cousin Cora, to what do I owe the…
VIOLET: Oh, I hope I’m not a disappointment.
INT. MRS HUGHES'S SITTING ROOM
Mrs Hughes looks at a hat.
HUGHES: I thought it might be nice to cheer it up a bit.
O’BRIEN: Easier said than done.
HUGHES: Perhaps with a flower or a bit of veil or something.
O’BRIEN: I can find you a veil if you like. I hope you’re not expecting me to do it.
HUGHES: Not if you’re busy, of course.
O’BRIEN: Good.
HUGHES: And Miss O’Brien, I’ve sent Anna to bed with a cold, so I need you to manage the young ladies.
O’BRIEN: What, all three of them? I’m not an octopus. Why can’t Gwen do it?
HUGHES: Because she is not a lady’s maid.
O’BRIEN: I am not a slave.
HUGHES: Just do it, Miss O’Brien. Just do it.
INT. HAVEL AND CARTER
VIOLET: I’ll pay you the compliment that I do not believe you wish to inherit just because nobody’s investigated properly.
MATTHEW: No, buy…
VIOLET: Nor can Murray accuse you of making trouble when you’re the one who will suffer most from a discovery.
MATTHEW: You’re right that I don’t wish to benefit at Mary’s expense from an ignorance of the law--
VIOLET: Putting it bluntly, do you think Robert has thrown in the towel prematurely?
(Violet’s chair creaks.)
VIOLET: Good heavens, what am I sitting on?
MATTHEW: A swivel chair.
VIOLET: Oh, another modern brainwave?
MATTHEW: Not very modern. They were invented by Thomas Jefferson.
VIOLET: Why does every day involve a fight with an American?
MATTHEW: I’ll fetch a different one.
VIOLET: No, no. No, no, I’m a good sailor.
MATTHEW: It will depend on the exact terms of the entail and of the deed of gift when Cousin Cora’s money was transferred to the estate.
VIOLET: That is all I ask. To understand the exact terms.
INT. SERVANTS' HALL
WILLIAM: Is Daisy going to the fair tonight with the others?
BATES: Why don’t you ask her? She needs taking out of herself. What’s it to you?
THOMAS: Nothing.
WILLIAM: Daisy, I was hoping that…
THOMAS: Would you like to go to the fair with me, Daisy? There’s a few of us going later on.
DAISY: Do you mean it?
MRS PATMORE: Daisy, don’t let it get cold. Come on, come on, come on, come on, come on!
BATES: You bastard.
EXT. THE VILLAGE
Sybil, Edith, and Cora walk towards the car where Branson is waiting.
EDITH: Why is Sybil having a new dress and not me?
CORA: Because it’s Sybil’s turn.
SYBIL: Can it be my choice this time?
CORA: Of course, darling. As long as you choose what I choose. Branson, you’ll be taking Lady Sybil to Ripon tomorrow. She’ll be leaving after luncheon.
BRANSON: Certainly, Your Ladyship.
SYBIL: Poor old Madame Swann. I don’t know why we bother with fittings. She always makes the same frock.
EDITH: What do you want her to make?
SYBIL: Something new and exciting.
CORA: Heavens, look at the time. Not a minute to change. And Granny’s invited herself for dinner.
SYBIL: Then she can jolly well wait.
CORA: So, women’s rights begin at home, I see. Well, I’m all for that.
(The ladies chuckle and Branson drives off.)
INT. MR CARSON'S OFFICE
HUGHES: I’m just off, Mr Carson.
CARSON: According to the wine book, we should still have six dozen of this, but I’m beggared if I can find much more than four.
HUGHES: Look again before you jump to any nasty conclusions.
CARSON: Long time since you last took a night off.
HUGHES: You don’t think I ought to stay, do you?
CARSON: Certainly not. Be off with you.
HUGHES: And Anna’s in bed with a cold, so I’m afraid it’s all down to you.
CARSON: Go.
EXT. THE VILLAGE FAIR
Matthew plays the Coconut Saloon game at the fair. Mary sees him and approaches.
MATTHEW: I wanted to have a go before I went home. How about you?
(Matthew digs in his pockets for more change.)
FAIR VENDOR: Thank you.
(The vendor hands Mary and Matthew some more balls to throw.)
MARY: Thank you.
MATTHEW: Do you know if your father’s doing anything this evening?
MARY: He’s not coming to the fair.
MATTHEW: Seriously.
MARY: Well, having dinner with his family.
MATTHEW: Could I look in afterwards?
MARY: May I ask why?
MATTHEW: Your grandmother paid me a visit this afternoon and I’m…well, never mind, but I…I would like to see him.
MARY: Granny came to see you. Is it all part of The Great Matter? So, are you enjoying your new life?
MATTHEW: Yes, I think so. I know my work seems very trivial to you.
MARY: Not necessarily. Sometimes I rather envy you, having somewhere to go every morning.
MATTHEW: I thought that made me very middle class?
MARY: You should learn to forget what I say. I know I do.
MATTHEW: How about you? Is your life proving satisfactory, apart from the Great Matter, of course?
MARY: Women like me don’t have a life. We choose clothes and pay calls and work for charity and do the season, but really, we’re stuck in a waiting room until we marry.
MATTHEW: I’ve made you angry.
MARY: My life makes me angry, not you.
INT. SERVANT’S HALL
CARSON: I never put the Sauterne on ice. Mrs Hughes goes out for one night and we all fall to pieces!
THOMAS: Mr Carson, we wondered if we could walk down to the fair after dinner.
CARSON: I suppose so, but don’t be too late.
MRS PATMORE: …that’s right.
THOMAS: Where do you think she’s gone?
WILLIAM: None of your business.
MRS PATMORE: Like most of what goes on ‘round here.
DAISY: Oh!
THOMAS: Well caught, that man, though I say it myself.
DAISY: Thanks ever so. Yes?
MRS PATMORE: Well, you’ve cheered up a bit.
DAISY: He’s so agile, i’in’t he? He could have been a sportsman.
MRS PATMORE: Who?
DAISY: Thomas, of course.
MRS PATMORE: Really? Which sport did you have in mind?
INT. GRAND STAIRCASE
MARY: I ran into Cousin Matthew in the village. He wanted to call on you after dinner. Apparently, Granny’s been to see him.
ROBERT: Did you tell him she’s coming here this evening?
MARY: Well, I didn’t know she was.
ROBERT: When he arrives, do your best to keep her in the drawing room.
MARY: Well, I’d like to see you try.
INT. OUTER HALL
Matthew enters the house as the ladies are walking from the dining room to the drawing room.
CORA: Don’t stay too late. Let them have an early night.
VIOLET: Sybil, Sybil, darling, why would you want to go to real school? You’re not a doctor’s daughter.
SYBIL: But nobody learns anything from a governess apart from French and how to curtsy.
VIOLET: Well, what else do you need?
SYBIL: Well, there’s…
VIOLET: Are you thinking of a career in banking?
Mary turns around and sees Matthew through the glass door. She holds up a hand to wait until the others have gone into the next room.
SYBIL: No, but it is a noble profession.
CORA: Things are different in America.
VIOLET: I know. They live in wigwams.
CORA: And when they come out of them, they go to school.
(Mary goes to the door and opens it to speak to Matthew.)
MARY (whisper): If you wait in the library, I’ll tell Papa you’re here.
MATTHEW: Thank you.
EXT. THE VILLAGE FAIR
JOE BURNS: Elsie? It is Elsie, isn’t it?
HUGHES: It is. Though, there’s very few left to call me that, Joe Burns.
JOE BURNS: Well, I’m flattered that I’m one of them.
INT. LIBRARY
Carson brings in the port.
ROBERT: Where’s Thomas?
CARSON: I’m afraid I let some of the servants go down to the fair, my lord. I didn’t know we’d have any visitors tonight.
ROBERT: Well, that’s all right. They don’t have much fun. You should join them. So, what did you say to Mama?
MATTHEW: I haven’t spoken to her since her visit, but I have looked through every source and I can’t find one reason on which to base a challenge.
ROBERT: I could have told you that.
MATTHEW: I’m not quite sure how to phrase it when I tell her.
ROBERT: She shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that. It was unkind.
MATTHEW: I’m afraid she’ll think I’ve failed because I don’t want to succeed.
ROBERT: She will think that, but I don’t. And nor will Cora.
MATTHEW: Of course it’s impossible for Mary. She must resent me so bitterly. And I don’t blame her.
INT. THE GRANTHAM ARMS
Mrs Hughes and Joe burns sit at a table having dinner.
HUGHES: Yes, it must have been hard for you when Ivy died.
JOE BURNS: Took some getting used to.
HUGHES: What about your son? Do you see much of him?
JOE BURNS: Peter? No. I would’ve given him a share of the farm if he wanted it, but he’s joined the army.
HUGHES: Well, I never.
JOE BURNS: Oh, he seems happy, but he’s left me on me own. Thank you. So, how’s life treated you?
HUGHES: Oh, I can’t complain. I haven’t travelled, but I’ve seen a bit of life and no mistake.
JOE BURNS: I notice you call yourself Misses.
HUGHES: Housekeepers and cooks are always Misses. You know better than anyone I haven’t changed my name.
JOE BURNS: Well, I know you wouldn’t change it to Burns when you had the chance.
INT. SERVANTS' HALL
O’BRIEN: You shouldn’t have eaten with us. The chauffeur always eats in his own cottage.
BATES: Steady on. You can cut him a bit of slack on his second day.
BRANSON: I’m waiting to take old Lady Grantham home.
O’BRIEN: Even then, Taylor never ate with us. You’re taking advantage of Mrs Hughes’s absence.
BRANSON: What are you doing?
BATES: I’m sorting the collars, removing the ones that have come to an end.
BRANSON: What happens to His Lordship’s old clothes?
O’BRIEN: What’s it to you? Clothes are a valet’s pert, not a chauffeur's.
BATES: I get some, but most of it goes into the missionary barrel.
BRANSON: I know it’s meant to be kind, but I can think of better ways of helping the needy than sending stiff collars to the equator.
BATES: I thought Anna might have come down for her dinner.
O’BRIEN: And show she’s ready to start work again? Not a chance.
BATES: She’s still in bed, then?
O’BRIEN: She is. While I’m sat here sewing like a cursed princess in a fairytale and not down at the fair with the others.
INT. DRAWING ROOM
CARSON: Would you like me to ask Branson to bring the car around, my lady?
VIOLET: Where’s Robert? He can’t have been drinking port since we left, he’d be under the table by now.
CARSON: His Lordship’s in the library.
VIOLET: All alone? Oh, how sad.
CARSON: No, he’s…
MARY: We can say goodbye to Papa for you, Granny.
VIOLET: He’s what?
CARSON: He’s with Mr Crawley, my lady.
INT. LIBRARY
MATTHEW: The question is, what do I say to Cousin Violet?
ROBERT: Oh, don’t worry about that. I can handle her.
VIOLET: Really?
(Matthew stands up and Robert looks over in surprise.)
VIOLEL: Well, if you can, you must’ve learned to very recently.
INT. SERVANTS’ BEDROOM CORRIDOR
Anna reads by candle light in bed. Mr Bates knocks on the door between the men and women’s corridor. Anna goes out into the hall and approached the door.
BATES: Anna.
ANNA: Mr Bates.
BATES: Can you open the door?
ANNA: I daren’t. No one can open that door except Mrs Hughes.
BATES: Just for a moment. I brought you something.
(Anna unlocks the door. Mr Bates has a dinner tray for her.)
ANNA: I don’t know what to…
BATES: Shh!
EXT. DOWNTON ABBEY, FRONT WALK
VIOLET: What I don’t understand in all this is you. You seem positively glad to see Mary disinherited.
ROBERT: You speak as if we had a choice.
VIOLET: Thank you, Branson.
ROBERT: I’m worn out. Tell Lady Mary and Mr Crawley I’ve gone to bed.
CARSON: Shall I tell them now, my lord?
ROBERT: No. Wait until they ring.
EXT. THE VILLAGE FAIR
FAIRFOLK: Yes, sir.
HUGHES: I ought to start back. This is very late for me.
JOE BURNS: Oh, not yet. It’s a long time since I’ve had a girl to show off for at the fair.
FAIRFOLK: Fair enough.
JOE BURNS: So, I take it you never get lonely?
HUGHES: Well, that’s working in a big house. Though there are times you yearn for a bit of solitude.
Joe plays the fair game.
HUGHES: Oh!
FAIR VENDOR: We have a winner!
JOE BURNS: Ah, thank you. Well, er…something to remind you of me.
HUGHES: I don’t need help to remember you.
JOE BURNS: But what—what happens when you retire?
HUGHES: I should think I’ll stay here.
JOE BURNS: Suppose they sell the estate.
HUGHES: Suppose there’s a tidal wave. Suppose we all die of the plague. Suppose there’s a war.
Some other servants see them.
THOMAS: What did I tell you? She’s found her Romeo.
GWEN: That might be her brother.
THOMAS: She hasn’t got a brother, I would know it by now, just a sister in Levinson Sands.
DAISY: You know everything, don’t you?
WILLIAM: Everything, my foot. You’re hiding behind him, but he’s not what you think he is.
DAISY: Oh, go on, William, if you’re gonna be such a spoil sport.
WILLIAM: All right, I will.
(William marches off.)
GWEN: Oh, come back, she didn’t mean it!
HUGHES: I must go, but it’s been lovely to see you again, Joe. Really.
JOE BURNS: And you know what I’m asking?
HUGHES: You haven’t asked anything yet.
JOE BURNS: But you know what it is when I do. I’m gonna stop here at the pub until I hear from you. Oh, and take your time. I’d rather wait a week for the right answer than get a wrong one in a hurry. Think about it carefully.
HUGHES : I will. I promise you that.
INT. LIBRARY
Mary rings the bell.
MARY: To break the entail, we’d need a private bill in Parliament.
MATTHEW: Even then, it would only be passed if the estate were in danger, which it’s not.
MARY: And I mean nothing in all this.
MATTHEW: On the contrary, you mean a great deal…very great deal.
CARSON: You rang, my lady?
MARY: Yes, Carson. Mr Crawley was just leaving. Do you know where His Lordship is?
CARSON: Gone to bed, my lady. He felt tired after he put Lady Grantham into the car.
MARY: I bet he did. Thank you, Carson.
MATTHEW: I’m sorry, I wish I could think of something to say that would help.
MARY: There’s nothing. But you mustn’t let it trouble you.
MATTHEW: It does trouble me. It troubles me very much.
MARY: Then that will be my consolation prize. Goodnight, Cousin Matthew.
MATTHEW: Goodnight. I hope I haven’t kept you up too late. I’m afraid we’ve interfered with your dinner.
CARSON: It’s been rather a chop and change evening downstairs.
MATTHEW: Lady Grantham got off all right?
CARSON: “All right” is an optimistic assessment, sir.
MATTHEW: It’s very difficult, Carson, for her, for Lady Mary, for everyone.
CARSON: It is Mr Crawley. But I appreciate your saying so.
INT. SERVANTS' CORRIDOR/HALL
O’BRIEN: Well, that’s the greatness done and dusted for the night.
BATES: William, you had a good night?
WILLIAM: I’m off to bed.
William gets up from the table and leaves.
BATES: Wait.
(William stops at the base of the stairs.)
BATES: What happened?
WILLIAM: Nothing. Doesn’t matter.
William leaves.
BATES: How was your evening, Mrs Hughes?
HUGHES: Very enjoyable, thank you. The others are just behind me, so you can lock up in a minute. Well, I’ll say goodnight.
BATES: Goodnight Misses.
O’BRIEN: Night.
THOMAS: Goodnight, Mrs Hughes. I was right when I said she was looking sparkly-eyed.
CARSON: I beg your pardon, Thomas?
THOMAS: He can disapprove all he likes, Mrs Hughes has got a fancy man.
DAISY: Him a fancy man?
BATES: Don’t be so nasty, Daisy, it doesn’t suit you.
THOMAS: I reckon there’s a job vacancy coming up. Miss O’Brien, do you fancy a promotion?
O’BRIEN: Very droll. If she’s got a boyfriend, I’m a giraffe.
INT. SERVANTS’ BEDROOM CORRIDOR
Mr Bates knocks on William’s door and opens it.
WILLIAM: Leave me alone, Mr Bates. I know you mean well, but let me be.
(Bates closes the door.)
THOMAS: What chance did he have up against a champion?
(Bates grabs Thomas and shoves him up against the wall.)
BATES: Now, you listen, you filthy little rat. If you don’t lay off, I will punch your shining teeth through the back of your skull.
THOMAS: Is this supposed to frighten me, Mr Bates? ‘Cause if it is, it isn’t working. I’m sorry, but it’s just not working.
INT. MRS HUGHES'S SITTING ROOM
Mrs Hughes smiles as she looks at the doll Joe Burns gave her.
INT. KITCHENS
MRS PATMORE: Daisy? Chafing dishes, now!
DAISY: They're right in front of you, Mrs Patmore.
MRS PATMORE: Are you trying to trick me?
HUGHES: Anna’s still not well. O’Brien, you’ll need to dress the girls this morning.
O’BRIEN: All we know about Lady Mary and here I am waiting on her hand and foot.
THOMAS: Will we do anything with that?
O’BRIEN: Maybe. But not yet.
THOMAS: What do you look like? Daisy, what do you think he looks like? Do your buttons up.
DAISY: Well, go on, then.
INT. LADY SYBIL’S BEDROOM
Gwen enters as O'Brien is fixing Sybil's hair.
O’BRIEN: What do you want?
GWEN: I’ve got a message for Lady Sybil from Her Ladyship.
SYBIL: Thank you, O’Brien, I’ll manage now.
O’Brien leaves.
SYBIL: Odious woman. What does Mama want?
GWEN: I just said that to get rid of her. This came today.
(Gwen hands Sybil a letter. Sybil opens and reads it.)
SYBIL: I knew they would want to see you.
GWEN: Well, it’s your reference what’s done it. But how am I going to get there? They won’t let me take a day off.
SYBIL: You’re going to be ill. They can’t stop you being ill.
GWEN: What?
SYBIL: No one has seen Anna for a whole day. They won’t notice if you vanish for a couple of hours.
EXT. DOWNTON ABBEY, GROUNDS
Mary and Robert walk with the dog.
MARY: The only one who never sticks up for me in all this is you. Why is that?
ROBERT: You are my darling daughter, and I love you, hard as it is for an Englishman to say the words.
MARY: Well, then.
ROBERT: If I had made my own fortune and bought Downton for myself, it should be yours without question. But I did not. My fortune is the work of others who laboured to build a great dynasty. Do I have the right to destroy their work or impoverish that dynasty? I am a custodian, my dear, not an owner. I must strive to be worthy of the task I’ve been set. If I could take Mama’s out of the estate, Downton would have to be sold to pay for it. Is that what you want? To see Matthew a landless peer with a title but no means to pay for it?
MARY: So I’m just to find a husband and get out of the way?
ROBERT: You could stay here if you married Matthew.
MARY: You know my character, Father. I’d never marry any man that I was told to. I’m stubborn. I wish I wasn’t, but I am.
EXT. MOTOR CAR
BRANSON: Will you have your own way, do you think? With the frock? Only, I couldn’t help overhearing yesterday, and from what Her Ladyship said, it sounded as if you support women’s rights.
SYBIL: I suppose I do.
BRANSON: Because I’m quite political. In fact, I brought some pamphlets that I thought might interest you about the vote.
SYBIL: Thank you. But please don’t mention this to my father, or my grandmother. One whiff of reform and she hears the rattle of the guillotine. It seems rather unlikely, a revolutionary chauffeur.
BRANSON: Maybe. But I’m a socialist, not a revolutionary. And I won’t always be a chauffeur.
INT. DOWNTON COTTAGE HOSPITAL
DR CLARKSON: Mrs Crawley, how nice.
ISOBEL: If you’re busy, we can come back later.
VIOLET: Molesley? What are you doing here? Are y—are you ill?
DR CLARKSON: Poor Mr Molesley. Er, how’s it going?
ISOBEL: The solution doesn’t seem to make it any better.
VIOLET: My imagination’s running riot.
MR MOLESLEY: I’ve got erysipelas, Your Ladyship.
VIOLET: Oh. Oh, I am sorry.
DR CLARKSON: Mrs Crawley tells me she’s recommended nitrate of silver and tincture of steel.
VIOLET: Why? Is she making a suit of armour?
DR CLARKSON: But, er, I take it there’s been no improvement.
MR MOLESLEY: Not really.
VIOLET: And you’re sure it’s erysipelas?
DR CLARKSON: That is...Mrs Crawley’s diagnosis.
VIOLET: What it is to have medical knowledge.
ISOBEL: It has its uses.
VIOLET: Mm. I see your father has been making changes at home.
MR MOLESLEY: He has, milady. He’s got no use for the herb garden now me mother’s gone, so he’s turned it to grass.
VIOLET: And you’ve been helping him?
MR MOLESLEY: I have.
VIOLET: Grubbing out the old rue hedge.
MR MOLESLEY: How did you know that?
VIOLET: Because this is not erysipelas. This is a rue allergy. If Molesley wears gardening gloves, it’ll be gone in a week. Please, don’t think we’re ungrateful for your enthusiasm, Mrs Crawley, but there comes a time when things are best left to the professionals.
ISOBEL: But I…
VIOLET: And now I really…I really must go. Good day.
MR MOLESLEY: Thank you, Your Ladyship.
EXT. VILLAGE COTTAGES
MATTHEW: I hope Cousin Violet has recovered from last night.
ROBERT: Whatever she says, my mother is as strong as an ox, and it’s high time she let go of her scheme for upsetting everything. Time we all did.
MATTHEW: I can’t deny I’m pleased to hear it.
ROBERT: Are you beginning to see a future here, then?
MATTHEW: In a way, this latest business has forced me to recognise that I do want Downton to be my future.
ROBERT: I’m glad.
MATTHEW: You must have thought me an awful prig when I first arrived.
ROBERT: Not a prig, just a man thrust into something he never wanted or envisaged.
MATTHEW: I can only see the absurdity of the whole thing. I’m sorry.
ROBERT: Well, there are absurdities involved as I know well enough.
MATTHEW: Possibilities, too, and I was blind to them. I was determined not to let it change me. It was absurd. If you don’t change, you die.
ROBERT: Do you think so? I’m not sure. Sometimes I think I hate change.
MATTHEW: Well, at least we can comfort ourselves that this’ll still be here...because we saved it.
INT. KITCHENS
DAISY: Thomas is lovely in every way. He’s funny and handsome, and he’s got such lovely teeth.
MRS PATMORE: He’s not for you, Daisy.
DAISY: ‘Course not. He’s too good for me, I know that.
MRS PATMORE: No. He’s not too good.
DAISY: What then?
MRS PATMORE: He’s not the boy for you, and you’re not the girl for him.
DAISY: I’in’t that what I just said? And why would he be when he’s seen and done so much and I’ve been nowhere and done nothing?
MRS PATMORE: Perhaps Thomas has seen and done more than is good for him. He’s not a lady’s man.
DAISY: But i’in’t it a blessed relief?
MRS PATMORE: Daisy, Thomas is a troubled soul.
DAISY: I don’t know what you mean, Mrs Patmore.
MRS PATMORE: Oh, nothing. I don’t mean anything. Except, if I don’t get the ice cream started, they’ll be dining at midnight.
INT. EDITH'S BEDROOM
SYBIL: Golly, my corset’s tight. Anna, when you’ve done that, would you be an angel and loosen it a bit?
EDITH: The start of the slippery slope.
SYBIL: I’m not putting on weight.
EDITH: It didn’t shrink in the drawer.
Mary enters.
MARY: Are you coming down?
SYBIL: I don’t know why we bother with corsets. Men don’t wear them and they look perfectly normal in their clothes.
MARY: Not all of them.
EDITH: She’s just showing off. She’ll be on about the vote in a minute.
SYBIL: If you mean, do I think women should have the vote, of course I do.
EDITH: I hope you won’t chain yourself to the railings and end up being force fed semolina.
MARY: What do you think, Anna?
ANNA: I think those women are very brave.
SYBIL: Hear, hear.
INT. DRAWING ROOM
ROBERT: How did you get on with your dressmaker? Find anything?
SYBIL: I did. And she says she can have it done by Friday.
ROBERT: I’m sorry I couldn’t come, but I didn’t want to put Matthew off.
EDITH: Were you pleased with the cottages?
ROBERT: I think they’re making a very good job of them. You must all go and see.
CORA: You will restore a few every year from now on?
ROBERT: It was Matthew’s idea. Old Cripps was rather reluctant, but I’m pleased we went forward.
EDITH: I suppose it’s worth it.
SYBIL: Of course it is, because of the people who will live in them.
ROBERT: You’ll be glad to hear that Matthew’s conscience is much more energetic than mine.
MARY: If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to bed. I’ve rather a headache.
CORA: Of course. Should I bring you something for it?
MARY: No, I’ll be perfectly fine if I can just lie down.
CORA: Mary...
(Cora goes after Mary.)
INT. LADY MARY'S BEDROOM
Mary is sobbing.
CORA: Oh, my darling. What is it?
MARY: You heard him. Matthew this. Matthew that. Matthew, Matthew, Matthew. Oh, Mother, don’t you see? He has his son now. Of course he didn’t argue with the entail. Why would he when he’s got what he always wanted?
CORA: Your father loves you very much.
MARY: He wouldn’t fight for me, though.
CORA: He wouldn’t fight for you because he knew he couldn’t win.
MARY: You’re no better.
CORA: What?
MARY: You don’t care about Matthew getting everything, because you don’t think I’m worthy of it!
CORA: Mary!
MARY: I wish you’d just admit it! I’m a lost soul to you! I took a lover with no thought of marriage! A Turk! Think of that! Oh, my dear! Don’t worry, Mama. You can go down now. Everything will look better in the morning. Isn’t that what you usually say?
CORA: I say it because it’s usually true.
MARY: Papa will wonder where you are.
CORA: Don’t quarrel with Matthew.
MARY: Why shouldn’t I?
CORA: Because one day you may need him.
MARY: Oh, I see. When I’ve ruined myself, I must have a powerful protector to hide behind.
INT. SERVANTS’ HALL
William plays the piano.
HUGHES: I’d tell you off…
(William stops and quickly stands up.)
HUGHES: But I like to hear you play. Where are they all?
WILLIAM: Busy, I suppose.
HUGHES: Haven’t you got anything to do?
WILLIAM: Yes, I have. ‘Course I have.
HUGHES: You mustn’t let Thomas get you down. He’s just jealous. Everyone likes you better than him.
WILLIAM: Not everyone.
HUGHES: Then she’s a foolish girl and she doesn’t deserve you. Though, why am I encouraging you? Forget all that for ten years at least.
WILLIAM: You’re a kind woman, Mrs Hughes. I don’t know how this house would run without you. I don’t, truly.
HUGHES: Stop flannelling and get on before I betray you to Mr Carson.
(William leaves.)
INT. KITCHENS
Gwen opens a letter and is disappointed by the contents.
INT. LADY SYBIL’S BEDROOM
Sybil opens a box exitedly.
SYBIL: Is there anything more thrilling than a new frock?
GWEN: I suppose not, milady.
SYBIL: You shall have one, too. I thought this would be suitable for your interview.
GWEN: Well, I won’t be wearing it, milady.
SYBIL: Of course you will! We have to make you look like a successful professional woman. What is it? What’s happened?
GWEN: Well, I won’t wear it because I’m not going. They’ve cancelled the appointment. They’ve found someone more suited for the post and better qualified.
SYBIL: This time.
GWEN: Let’s face it. There will never be anyone less suited for the post or worse qualified than I am.
SYBIL: That isn’t true. You’ll see. We’re not giving up. No one hits the bull’s eye with the first arrow.
INT. MRS HUGHES'S SITTING ROOM
CARSON: I've put out the Rundell candlesticks for dinner tonight.
(Mrs Hughes nods absentmindedly, concentrating on her thoughts.)
CARSON: Ah. I’m sorry, I’ll come back later.
HUGHES: No, stay, please. I’ve got something I’d like to talk to you about, if you’ve a minute.
(Mr Carson enters and closes the door and they sit opposite each other.)
HUGHES: Before I first came here as head housemaid, I was walking out with a farmer. When I told him I’d taken a job at Downton, he asked me to marry him. I was a farmer’s daughter from Argyle, so I knew the life. He was very nice. But then I came here and I—I did well, and I...I didn’t want to give it up. So, I told him no, and he married someone else. She died three years ago, and last month, he wrote asking to see me again, and I agreed, because all this time, I’ve wondered.
CARSON: Go on.
HUGHES: I met him the other night. We had dinner at the Grantham Arms and after, he took me to the fair.
CARSON: And he was horrible and fat and red-faced and you couldn’t think what you ever saw in him?
HUGHES: He was still a nice man. He is still a nice man. Well, he was a bit red-faced, and his suit was a little tight, but none of that matters. In the real ways, he hadn’t changed.
CARSON: And he proposed again...and you accepted?
HUGHES: In many ways, I wanted to accept. But I’m not that farm girl anymore. I was flattered, of course, but... I’ve changed, Mr Carson.
CARSON: Life’s altered you, as it’s altered me. And what would be the point of living if we didn’t let life change us? You won’t be leaving, then?
Anna knocks and enters.
ANNA: You better come. Mrs Patmore’s on the rampage. She wants the key to the store cupboard, and you know how angry she gets she hasn’t got one of her own.
HUGHES: Nor will she have. Not while I’m housekeeper here. Leaving? When would I ever find the time?
MRS PATMORE: ...I had to go cap in hand to Mary. It never stops!
INT. DRAWING ROOM
CORA: Whatever is holding Sybil up?
MARY: She was going on about her new frock.
INT. LADY SYBIL’S BEDROOM
Anna helps Sybil dress.
INT. DRAWING ROOM
ROBERT: We’d better go in without her, or it’s not fair on Mrs Patmore.
VIOLET: Oh, is her cooking so precisely timed? You couldn’t tell.
INT. LADY SYBIL’S BEDROOM
Anna fetches Sybil's shoes.
INT. DRAWING ROOM
ISOBEL: I think her food is delicious.
VIOLET: Naturally.
INT. LADY SYBIL’S BEDROOM
Sybil giggles and Anna fixes a cloth in her hair. Sybil shows off the complete look to Anna and Anna giggles.
INT. DRAWING ROOM
Sybil rushes down the stairs and enters.
SYBIL: Good evening, everyone.
(Sybil shows off her new trouser frock. Everyone's jaws drop. Matthew grins. Branson peeks in through the window and smiles.)
End of the episode.
Ecrit par Stella