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#304 : Le chemin de la perdition

Les opinions politique de Branson le jettent dans de l'eau bouillante, et la loyauté de Sybil est à rude épreuves. Ethel est déchirée entre sa raison et son coeur quant à la décision qu'elle va prendre pour l'avenir de son fils. Anna est abattue par le silence de M. Bates, qu'est-ce qui pourrait en être la cause ? M. Carson commence à recruter un valet de pied, un jeune et beau candidat se présente, Jimmy, il suscite déjà beaucoup d'intêrets à l'étage inférieur.


4.33 - 12 votes

Titre VO
Episode 4

Titre VF
Le chemin de la perdition

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Première diffusion en France





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Logo de la chaîne TMC

France (inédit)
Vendredi 13.09.2013 à 20:45
0.69m / 2.8% (Part)

Logo de la chaîne ITV

Grande-Bretagne (inédit)
Dimanche 07.10.2012 à 21:00

Plus de détails


Réalisateur : Andy Goddard

Scénariste : Julian Fellowes


Distributions :

Hugh Bonneville... Robert Crawley, Comte de Grantham
Elizabeth McGovern... Cora Crawley, Comtesse de Grantham
Maggie Smith... Violet Crawley 
Michelle Dockery... Lady Mary Crawley
Laura Carmichael... Lady Edith Crawley
Jessica Brown Findlay... Lady Sybil Crawley
Dan Stevens... Matthew Crawley
Penelope Wilton... Isobel Crawley
Jim Carter... Charles Carson
Phyllis Logan... Elsie Hughes
Joanne Froggatt... Anna Smith
Brendan Coyle... John Bates
Allen Leech... Tom Branson
Sophie McShera... Daisy Robinson Mason
Lesley Nicol... Beryl Patmore
Rob James-Collier... Thomas Barrow
Siobhan Finneran... Sarah O'Brien  
Kevin Doyle... Molesley
Amy Nuttall... Ether Parks
Matt Milne... Alfred Nugent
Jason Furnival... Craig
Neil Bell... Durrant
Cara Theobold... Ivy Stuart
Ed Speleers... Jimmy Kent


Guests Stars :

Michael Culkin (Archevêque de York), Karl Haynes (Dent), Christine Lohr (Mme Bird), Christine Mackie (Mme Bryant), Kevin McNally (M. Bryant), Ged Simmons (Turner)





Mr Carson sorts the post and hands it out.


THOMAS: Well, she gone now

HUGHES: Oh, that’s a shame.

(Anna waits, but doesn’t receive any letters.)

ANNA: Nothing for me, Mr Carson?

CARSON: No, Anna. Once again, I’m afraid there’s nothing for you.

(Carson and Mrs Hughes both look sad for Anna.)




The prisoners walk around the catwalks. Bates steps up to the guard, but the guard looks at the post he has left and shakes his head. Bates pauses in disappointment. A second guard gets impatient and pulls him forward.


TURNER: Come on.

(Bates walks sadly back to his cell.)




Anna helps Mary finish dressing while Matthew sits on the bed already dressed.


MATTHEW: I’ve got enough on my plate without going into every detail.

MARY: You’re co-owner of this estate. You have to get into the detail.

MATTHEW (exhale): Not to challenge Robert, surely?

MARY: You won’t have any reason to, but you have to pull your weight. That’s all I’m saying.

MATTHEW (to Anna): How is Bates?

ANNA: I’ve not seen him for a while, sir.

MATTHEW: Oh? Why is that?

ANNA: I’m not quite sure, sir. They’ve stopped all his visitors.

MATTHEW: Has he given you a reason?

ANNA: Well, he’s not written in quite some time now.

MATTHEW: And you don’t know why?

(The conversation is becoming increasingly difficult for Anna.)

ANNA: No, but I’m certain I will before too long.

(Anna finishes tying Mary’s shoes.)




Someone knocks and Isobel enters. Mrs Hughes gets up from her writing desk with a pleasant tone of surprise.


HUGHES: Mrs Crawley, how may I help?

ISOBEL: I’m sorry to push in on you again, but I didn’t have time to come down before dinner and now we’re on our way home.


(Mrs Hughes nods. Isobel hesitates for a moment, then closes the door.)

ISOBEL: Mrs Hughes, you know I went to see Ethel Parks.

HUGHES: I do, ma’am.

ISOBEL: Well, she wouldn’t speak to me then, but she has since sought me out and asked me to deliver this letter into your hands.

(Isobel hands her the letter.)

HUGHES: When we last spoke of her, you seemed to think she’d…fallen into bad way.

ISOBEL: I’m afraid that’s the case. She’s been working as a prostitute.

(Mrs Hughes is taken aback. She begins to recover after a moment.)

HUGHES: My, my. That’s not a word you hear in this house every day.

ISOBEL: No. But I think it also serves to show the measure of her misery. Ethel has been driven into this, of that I have no doubt. If only she would allow me to help her. But she won’t. If this letter can give you any clue as to how I might be helpful, please let me know.

HUGHES: I will, ma’am.

(Isobel turns to the door.)

HUGHES: Your sentiments do you credit, but I suspect she will be too ashamed to face how far she’s fallen.

ISOBEL: Goodnight.

HUGHES: Goodnight, Mrs Crawley.




Matthew and Robert have drinks together. Carson brings them cigars.


CARSON: Sir, am I to answer to you both?

MATTHEW: Of course not. What Lord Grantham means is that I have made an investment in the estate. That is all. Otherwise, nothing has changed.

CARSON: Very good. And can we bring the staff back up to snuff?

(Matthew takes in a breath, about to speak.)

ROBERT: I believe we can.

(Matthew regards Robert, dropping whatever he was about to say, but clearly not in agreement.)

CARSON: Mrs Hughes is short of a housemaid, Mrs Patmore wants a kitchen maid, and I need a new footman.

MATTHEW: Do you really? I sometimes feel the world is rather different than it was before the war.

CARSON: I see.

(Robert regards Matthew now.)

CARSON: I would like to return to my duties as a butler, sir. But if you prefer that I continue to do the work of a second footman in addition—

ROBERT: Mr Crawley does not mean that at all, do you?

MATTHEW: Certainly not.

CARSON: Well that is good news.

ROBERT: I suppose it’s too late to get into shape before the dinner for the archbishop of York, but it’ll be the last time you’ll have to fudge it.

CARSON: I will do my best for the archbishop with an added spring in my step.

(Carson exits.)




Robert, Matthew, and Edith have breakfast together.


MATTHEW: Why don’t you have breakfast in bed?

EDITH: Because I’m not married.

MATTHEW: Yes, but...now that

EDITH: Now that both of the others are, what difference would it make?

MATTHEW: You know what I mean.

EDITH: I prefer to be up and about.

(Robert reads the paper aloud.)

ROBERT: Tennessee is going to ratify the nineteenth amendment.

MATTHEW: Meaning?

ROBERT: All American women will have the vote.

EDITH: Which is more than they do here.

ROBERT: Well, they almost do.

EDITH: I don’t have the vote. I’m not over thirty, and I’m not a householder. It’s ridiculous.

MATTHEW: You should write to the Times.

EDITH: Maybe I will.

(Robert doesn’t seem pleased by the suggestion.)

ROBERT: Ask your mother if she needs any help with tonight’s dinner. There’s nothing so toffee nosed as a prince of the church, so make sure you put him next to your grandmother. She’ll know how to handle him.




Anna descends the stairs and hangs up her apron, struggling to hold down her emotions. She enters the hall where the servants are dining.


CARSON: Oh, Anna, you’ll be happy to hear that as soon as we take on a new housemaid, you’ll be a lady’s maid to Lady Mary at last.

(Anna sits down at the table, still fidgety and distracted.)

ANNA: That’s nice, Mr Carson. Thank you.

HUGHES: Thought you’d be more pleased.

ANNA: No, I am pleased, really. I’m... I’ve just got a lot on my mind. Sorry.

CARSON: I’ve also advertised for a new footman.

SARAH: He’ll be second footman, won’t he?

CARSON: As to that, I will make no pronouncements at this stage.

THOMAS: Try to find a man with something about him, Mr Carson. I don’t like to feel the house isn’t being properly represented.

ALFRED: Is that aimed at me?

THOMAS: If the cap fits, wear it.

CARSON (to Mrs Hughes): You’re very quiet.

HUGHES: You’ll never guess what.

(Mrs Hughes keeps her voice low.)

HUGHES: I’ve had a letter from Ethel. She wants to meet me, but she won’t come here.

CARSON: What for? And why not?

HUGHES: I think she’d be uncomfortable.

CARSON: Why, particularly?

HUGHES: Never you mind. I think I’ll ask Mrs Crawley if we can meet there. Heaven knows what Ethel wants of us this time.




MATTHEW: Cora said you were looking for me.

MARY: Yes. I’ve stolen the nursery as a sitting room for us. And this is the paper.

(Mary points out some materials she has laid out for redecorating.)

MARY: Unless you hate it.


(Matthew looks at the paper and back at Mary, expectantly.)

MATTHEW: Is that all?

MARY: Why? What did you think it was?

(Matthew rounds the table to approach Mary as she looks over the materials.)

MATTHEW: Cora said you’d been to the doctor earlier. I wondered why.

MARY: To find something for my hay fever.

MATTHEW: And what will we use for a day nursery...should the need arise?

MARY: I think we can worry about that a little further down the line.




Violet looks at a small bottle in her hands.


VIOLET: Oh, thank you, my dear. That’s very kind. How much do I owe you?

EDITH: A guinea.

VIOLET: A guinea? For a bottle of scent? Did he have a mask and a gun? How are you?

EDITH: All right...I suppose.

VIOLET: Yes, I worry about you. That sort of thing is so horrid.

EDITH: Being jilted at the altar? Yes, it is horrid. Multiplied by about ten thousand million.

(Edith sits.)

VIOLET: Oh. You must keep busy.

EDITH: What with? There’s nothing to do at the house. Except when we entertain.

VIOLET: Well, there must be something you can put your mind to.

EDITH: Like what? Gardening?

VIOLET: Well, no, you can’t be as desperate as that.

EDITH: Then what?

VIOLET: Edith, dear, you’re a woman with a brain and reasonable ability. Stop whining and find something to do.




Anna puts sewing supplies in a small box. She sniffles. Mrs Hughes enters.


HUGHES: I’m going out, Anna. I’ve told Mrs Patmore, and I think everything’s under control for tonight, but...

(Mrs Hughes sees Anna’s expression.)

HUGHES: What’s the matter?

ANNA: Nothing.

(Mrs Hughes gives Anna a dubious look and waits.)

ANNA: Except...well, I ha… I haven’t had a letter from Mr Bates in weeks. I worry...I worry that he’s being gallant and... trying to set me free. He wants me to make a new life without him.

HUGHES: I doubt it very much.

ANNA: Then why would he be silent like this? And stop me visiting?

HUGHES: Obviously, I don’t know why, but I do know there’ll be a good reason.

ANNA: Do you really think so?

HUGHES: I’d swear to it.




The prisoners sew cloth sacks. Dent sits down across the table behind Bates and whispers to him.


DENT: They know you tricked ‘em.

BATES: Who knows what?

DENT: Mr Durrant’s a dealer on the outside.

(Bates keeps quiet while Durrant walks past.)

BATES: What’s that to do with me?

DENT: He’s working for your cellmate. All I know is that you punched Craig, so they set you up. But you hid the stuff they planted and turned the tables on them and now they’re angry.

BATES: And what can they do?

DENT: Tell you what they can start by doing.

(Dent surreptitiously moves to the bench across from Bates.)

DENT: Durrant’s reported you to the governor for violence. You’re officially a dangerous prisoner.

BATES: The governor won’t fall for that.

DENT: No? So when was the last time your wife came to visit, eh? How many letters you received lately?

BATES: Thank God. What a relief. I thought she’d given up on me.

DENT: Don’t thank God until you know what else they’ve got in store for you.

TURNER: Stop talking!




CARSON: Go on, then.

(Alfred points to the row of spoons laid out before him.)

ALFRED: Tea spoon, egg spoon...melon spoon, grapefruit spoon, jam spoon...

(Alfred points his finger over the last spoon, thinking hard. Carson waits.)

CARSON: Shall I tell you?

(Thomas steps in watching.)

ALFRED: All right.

(Carson picks up the spoon.)

CARSON: A bullion spoon.

ALFRED: But I thought soup spoons were the same as table spoons.

CARSON: Ah, so they are, but not for bullion, which is drunk from a smaller dish. Off you go, now. I must get on.


Thomas glares passively at Alfred as Alfred exits.


THOMAS: You’re taking a lot of trouble with young Alfred, Mr Carson. I feel quite jealous.

CARSON: I don’t know why. He asked for help. You never did.




ETHEL PARKS: It’s very hard to begin.

HUGHES: Well, find a way, Ethel. We all have lives to lead.

ETHEL: Could you write to the Bryants? To say I want them to have Charlie?

HUGHES: We’ve already been down this path...to no avail.

ETHEL: I know. And I know I said a mother’s love was worth more than all they had to give, but I said it for me. Not for him.

ISOBEL: My dear, you mustn’t do anything until you’re absolutely sure.

ETHEL: Mrs Hughes said we all have lives to lead, but that isn’t true. I’ve got no life. I exist, but barely.

ISOBEL: Ethel, we all know the route you’ve taken.

ETHEL: It’s good of you to have me here.

ISOBEL: All I mean is that I work with others like you to rebuild their lives. Can’t we work together to find a way for you to keep your son?

ETHEL: With his grandparents, Charlie can build a life that is whatever he wishes it to be. With all respect, ma’am, you and I working together could never offer him that.

(Mrs Hughes looks at Isobel and then to Ethel.)

HUGHES: You want me to write to them again.

ISOBEL: But leave it vague. Say that Ethel would like them to keep in contact with their grandson.

ETHEL (determined): I won’t change my mind.

HUGHES: Nevertheless, that’s what I’ll do. Then there’ll be no disappointment whatever comes. Now, if you’ll forgive me, we’ve a big dinner tonight. Good day, ma’am. Ethel.

(Mrs Hughes exits.)




Mrs Hughes walk to the front had with Mrs Bird.


HUGHES: Ethel has had a very hard time of it since she left us, Mrs Bird. She’s had great difficulty making ends meet.

MRS BIRD: We know how she solved that problem.

(Isobel and Ethel join them in the hallway and Mrs Bird opens the door for Mrs Hughes.)

MRS BIRD: Give my regards to Mr Molesley.


Mrs Hughes exits.


ISOBEL: Till we meet again, my dear.

ETHEL: I… I had a coat.

MRS BIRD: It’s there.

ISOBEL: You will help Miss Parks, please Mrs Bird.

(Mrs Bird takes the coat off the rack and holds it out toward Ethel, not moving, so that Ethel has to step forward to take it. Ethel opens the door for herself and exits awkwardly with a small smile to Isobel. Isobel waits for Mrs Bird to close the door and turn around.)

ISOBEL: Some manners wouldn’t go amiss.

(Isobel turns to leave.)

MRS BIRD: I do not believe it is part of my duties to wait on the likes of her. I’m sorry, but that’s what I feel.




ARCHBISHOP OF YORK: I don’t want to sound anti-Catholic.

ROBERT: Why not? I am.

ARCHBISHOP OF YORK: Not in any real way, I’m sure.

ROBERT: I don’t want thumbscrews or the rack, but there always seems to be something of Johnny Foreigner about the Catholics.




A policeman bicycles through the rain. A figure watches the policeman pass and then runs up the street.




SYBIL BRANSON (on telephone): I’ve no time to talk, but tell them I’m all right. I’m out of the flat. They haven’t stopped me...

(Sybil stops talking when she sees someone suspicious.)

EDITH (on telephone): Who hasn’t stopped you? Sybil? Hello?

(Sybil hangs up. Edith hangs up the phone, very confused.)




The hiding figure dashes between trees in the dark, pouring rain.




Edith enters with hesitant footsteps.


MARY: What’s the matter?

EDITH: I’ve just had the most peculiar conversation with Sybil.

(Cora and Mary wait with curious concern.)

EDITH: She kept on about being out of the flat and nobody had stopped her and...

CORA: What do you mean, “No one had stopped her”? Stopped her from doing what?

EDITH: That’s just it. I don’t know. She suddenly put down the telephone.

(Carson enters.)

CARSON: Dinner is served, my lady.




VIOLET: Y—Tell me, Dr Lang, do you find that the war has driven the people back into the churches or further away than ever?

(Someone pounds on the front door.)

ARCHBISHOP OF YORK: “Behold, I stand at the door and knock.”

MATTHEW: Someone sounds very angry.

CORA: Or very wet.

MARY: Or both.

(Carson turns to Alfred. Alfred nods and leaves to answer the door.)




Alfred opens the door to find Tom standing there soaking wet.


ALFRED: Do you have any luggage, sir?

TOM: I barely have the clothes I stand in.

(Tom walks in past Alfred. He takes off his hat and looks back as Alfred closes the door.)

TOM: Where are they?

ALFRED: They’re in the…


Mary appears.


MARY: Tom! What’s happened? Where’s Sybil?

TOM: I had to get away and leave her to follow, but I made all the arrangements in case. She’ll be on her way by now.

MARY: By why are you here? And why must she follow you alone?

(Tom hesitates and Mary becomes concerned.)

TOM: I can explain.

MARY: There’s a dinner going on, but I’ll go on and tell them that you’re here.

(Tom grabs Mary’s arm to stop her.)

TOM: No. Don’t. No one must know. I’ll tell you it all when they’re gone.


Matthew enters.


MATTHEW: What’s the matter?

(Matthew looks at Tom in surprise.)


MARY: Go upstairs and find some dry clothes of Matthew’s. I’ll come for you when the coast is clear.

(Matthew leads Tom upstairs and Mary turns to Alfred.)

MARY: Would you please ask Mrs Hughes to sort some food out for him?

ALFRED: Yes, milady.




Mary and Matthew return to dinner.


MARY: An idiotic man delivering a village pamphlet, can you imagine? In this weather and this time of night?

(Robert chuckles, but Cora looks more suspicious. Mary leans over and whispers to Robert, surprising him with the truth.)

MARY: It’s Branson. He wouldn’t come in.

ROBERT: Why not? Is Sybil with him?

(Mary doesn’t respond.)

ROBERT: What’s going on?

MARY: She’s not here, but apparently she’s coming soon. He’ll explain what’s happened when our guest is gone.

VIOLET: Something to look forward to.

ROBERT: Other men have normal families with sons-in-law who farm or preach or serve their country in the army.

VIOLET: Maybe they do, but no family is ever what it seems from the outside.




DAISY: Do you think he’s on the run from the police?

ANNA: Don’t be so daft.

THOMAS: Well, he hadn’t got the money for a taxicab from the station.

HUGHES: Maybe he fancied the walk.

O’BRIEN: Yes, that’s it. I should think he loves a night walk in the pouring rain without a coat.

DAISY: What room is he in?

CARSON: I’ll take that, thank you, Daisy.

(The servants stand and Carson takes the food tray from Daisy. Carson gives the gossipers a look over his shoulder before he exits.)

THOMAS: So, there’ll be no more gossip on that subject tonight.




Tom is on the spot, slouching miserably in his chair, as the family gathers to listen to his explanation.


TOM: They turned everyone out of the castle. Lord and Lady [?], their sons, and all the servants. And then they set fire to it.

(The family is stunned.)

EDITH: What a tragedy.

VIOLET: Well, yes and no. That house was hideous. But of course, that is no excuse.

ROBERT: No, it is not.

MATTHEW: But what was your involvement?

TOM: Who says I was involved?

MARY: Well, you seem to know a lot about it if you weren’t.

CORA: And why are you running away? And what was Sybil’s part in all this?

TOM: She’s not involved. Not at all. But they think I was part of it. They think I was one of the instigators.

MARY: So the police are looking for you?

TOM: That’s why I couldn’t go home. I knew if they took me, I wouldn’t get a fair hearing.

CORA: You mean, you gave them Sybil while you saved yourself.

TOM: I don’t think they’ll hold her, but if they do, then I’m prepared to go back and face the consequences.

ROBERT: You damn well better be.

CORA: You must see the home secretary.

ROBERT: And tell him what? The police say he was there, he says he wasn’t.

TOM: I didn’t say I wasn’t there.

ROBERT: Why were you? For the fun of seeing private property destroyed?

TOM: Those places are different for me. I don’t look at them and see charm and gracious living. I see something horrible.

VIOLET: J—with Castle, I rather agree.

ROBERT: Mamma, you are not helping.

TOM: But when I saw them turned out, standing there with their children...all of them in tears watching their home burn...I was sorry. I admit it. I don’t want their type to govern Ireland, I want a free state, but...I was sorry.

EDITH: Never mind that. What’s happened to Sybil?

TOM: We agreed that I should leave at once, and that she’d close the flat and follow. But I got the last boat, so she won’t be here before tomorrow.

ROBERT: Good God Almighty! You abandoned a pregnant woman in a land that’s not her own!

(Tom begins crying with shame.)

ROBERT: You leave her to shift for herself while you run for it?!

CORA: You have to go to London, Robert. For Sybil’s sake if not for his. You have to see Mr Short.

(Robert is red-face with rage.)

ROBERT: I don’t have to do anything!

TOM: I never meant for…

ROBERT: Go to bed!

(Robert turns away and lowers his voice to a calmer level.)

ROBERT: I’ll give you my answer in the morning.

(Tom gets up shakily and leaves.)




Tom enters the room, walks to the bed, and cries as he sits down.




MOLESLEY: Of course, she married beneath her.

MRS PATMORE: And who are you, then? A Hapsburg archduke?

O’BRIEN: What if he has to go to prison? What then?

CARSON: That’s quite enough of that, thank you Miss O’Brien. Bedtime, I think.




Mrs Hughes finishes her tea as Carson knocks and enters with a sheet of paper.


CARSON: I’m going up.

HUGHES: Good night.

CARSON: I’ll try to keep them quiet, but to be honest, I knew it would happen. I knew he would bring shame on this house. It sounds as if he’s on the run from the police, and for all we know, Lady Sybil is languishing in a dungeon somewhere in Dublin.

HUGHES: Let’s wait. And see what the morning brings.

(Mrs Hughes picks up a metal contraption with a cord.)

CARSON: What in God’s name is it?

HUGHES: An electric toaster. I’ve given it to myself as a treat. If it’s any good, I’m going to suggest getting one for the upstairs breakfasts.

CARSON: Is it not enough that we’re sheltering a dangerous revolutionary, Mrs Hughes? Could you not have spared me that?

(Mrs Hughes looks at her toaster, not understanding his objection. Carson leaves and she inspects the toaster mechanics.)




A stranger walks down the corridor and knocks on the open door. The maids look up and stare at the handsome stranger.



ANNA: Can we help you?

JIMMY: I’m here to see Mr Carson.

(Thomas enters, sees the handsome man, and looks at gawking women.)

THOMAS: Who’s this?

JIMMY: Jimmy Kent, at your service.

THOMAS: I’m Mr Barrow, His Lordship’s valet.

JIMMY: And I am hoping to be His Lordship’s footman. Which is why I’m looking for Mr Carson.


Thomas looks over the handsome possible addition, and Mrs Hughes enters.


HUGHES: What’s the matter? Have you all been turned into pillars of salt?

(Mrs Hughes catches sight of the handsome newcomer.

HUGHES: May I help?

JIMMY: I’ve come for the interview.

HUGHES: I see. Well, if you’ll, er, wait there.

(Mrs Hughes turns to look at the staring maids and exits.)




The family is gathered. Robert speaks just under a shout.


ROBERT: I want to make it quite clear that whatever I do, I am doing it for Sybil, and not for you. I find your actions despicable, whatever your beliefs. You speak of Ireland’s suffering and I do not contradict you, but Ireland cannot prosper until this savagery is put away.

MARY: That’s all very well, Papa, but you must keep Tom out of prison.

ROBERT: I’ll go to London today. I’ll telephone Murray and ask him to arrange an interview. I won’t come home until I’ve seen Short.

CORA: Thank you. I know it’s right.

ROBERT: It’s right for him.

CORA: And for Sybil, and for this family.

ROBERT: I suppose so. Let me know if Sybil gets in touch.

TOM: She won’t. She won’t want to give them anything to trace her by.

ROBERT: What a harsh world you live in.

TOM: We all live in a harsh world. But at least I know I do.

(Robert exits.)




Carson looks over Jimmy Kent’s reference.


CARSON: I see you’ve been working for the Dowager Lady Anstruther.

JIMMY: Yes. But she’s closed up the house and gone to live in France. She begged me to go with her, but I didn’t fancy it. I didn’t think I’d like the food.

CARSON: I see. She begged you, did she?

(Jimmy can see his comment didn’t go over so well.)

JIMMY: You what women can be like.

CARSON: Not, I suspect, as well as you.




Ethel walks her little boy up to the house, she stops just outside the gate.


ETHEL: Hey, Charlie, let’s put your hat in. Make you look nice and smart.

(Ethel puts his hat on.)

ETHEL: Be a good boy for Mummy, yeah? Come on.

(Ethel takes his hand and they walk to the house.)




The Bryants sit with Ethel, Isobel, and Mrs Hughes. Charlie sits on Ethel’s lap.


MRS BRYANT: Thank you for letting us come.

MR BRYANT: And why have we come? To hear more guff about a mother’s love?

ISOBEL: Mr Bryant, that’s not fair.

MR BRYANT: Isn’t it? We know what you are now, Ethel. We know how far you’ve fallen. I didn’t want to let Mrs Bryant in the same room as you, but she insisted.

MRS BRYANT: What Mr Bryant means…

ETHEL: How could you know about me?

MR BRYANT: Do you think it’s so difficult to find out about a woman like you? Ha. I could give you a list of your clients.

(This does not sit well with Isobel or Mrs Hughes.)

ETHEL: You mean, you’ve had me followed?

MR BRYANT: What? Didn’t you think we’d keep a check on our grandson?

MRS BRYANT: We’re not judging you.

MR BRYANT: I’m judging her. I judge her and I find her wanting.

MRS BRYANT: Ethel, we’ve decided to offer you some money, to make things easier so that you won’t have to...

MR BRYANT: Unless you don’t want to give it up.

ISOBEL: Well, that’s very generous, isn’t it, Ethel? It throws a different light on things.

(Ethel glares up at Mr Bryant. Isobel hears trays rattling outside the room.)

ISOBEL: Oh, there’s Mrs Bird with the tea.

(Isobel gets up.)

ISOBEL: Would you like to help me, Ethel?

(Ethel stands up, putting Charlie on his feet, and Mr Bryant crouches in front of him with a teddy bear.)

MR BRYANT: Charlie, look what I’ve got for you.

CHARLIE: A teddy.

MR BRYANT: That’s right.

(Ethel looks at Charlie sadly as she exits with Isobel.)

MR BRYANT: Isn’t it nice?




Ethel and Isobel step into the hall just as Mrs Bird is approaching with a tea tray.


MRS BIRD: Should I not take it in, then?

ETHEL: I can do that.

MRS BIRD: Sure I don’t need your help.

ISOBEL: Thank you, Mrs Bird.

(Mrs Bird puts the tray down on a nearby table and exits with a backward look at Ethel. Ethel picks up the tray.)

ISOBEL: Ethel... you don’t have to do this. You have a choice.

ETHEL: You mean I should take money from that man? It won’t be much. Enough to keep us from starving, but not much more.

ISOBEL: But even if Charlie doesn’t go to a famous school or university, you’ll be there to give him love.

ETHEL: Yeah, I suppose Mr Crawley went to a famous school and university. I see. Thank you, Mrs Crawley.

(Charlie and Mr Bryant laugh in the room. Isobel enters the room.)




Bates sits down next to Dent.


DENT: When do you want it to happen?

BATES: Tomorrow night.

DENT: Not Mr Durrant?

BATES: No. Any other warden but him. Tell Turner about it; he’s straight. But don’t tell until the afternoon.

BATES: Why are you doing this? Why are you helping me?

DENT: I can’t stand Craig.




Ethel serves Mrs Bryant tea.


MRS BRYANT: You do that very neatly, my dear.

ETHEL: I was trained by Mrs Hughes.

MR BRYANT: She was a good worker, even though things haven’t gone so well lately.

(Ethel and Isobel continue to serve the tea.)

MRS BRYANT: I hope that you can accept our offer, Ethel, and that we can be friends, because we both wish you well, don’t we, dear?

(Mrs Bryant turns to her husband who is sitting with Charlie on his lap.)

MR BRYANT: I don’t wish you ill, I’ll say that.

ETHEL: I can’t accept your offer.

(Mr Bryant is surprised. Ethel puts down the tea tray and faces him.)

ETHEL: And we won’t be friends.

MRS BRYANT: What? Not even for Charlie’s sake?

ETHEL: I think you love my son, Mr Bryant. I don’t think you’re a nice man, or a kind one, but I believe you love my boy. So you’ll be pleased by what I’ve come here to say.




Mary enters to find Matthew looking over papers at the desk.


MARY: Any news while I was out?

(Mary rings the bell.)

MATTHEW: No. Perhaps the home secretary won’t see him.

MARY: Papa will pull some strings until he does.

(Mary approaches the desk and sees the papers.)

MARY: A-ha, you started on the Aegean task. How are you getting on?

MATTHEW: Badly. I’m beginning to get a sense of how it all works.

MARY: In a way, it’s probably best you tackle it by yourself.


Carson enters.


MARY: Ah, Carson. May we please have some tea?

MR CARSON: Of course, my lady.

(Carson begins to leave.)

MARY: Anna said you’re interviewing footmen today.

CARSON: That is correct.

MARY: Have you chosen the lucky winner?

CARSON: Not yet. There were two candidates when it came down to it. One was steady, but not much else, but the ladies downstairs want the other one.

MATTHEW: Why is that?

CARSON: I don’t know precisely, unless it’s because he’s more handsome.

MARY: Of course it’s because he’s more handsome. Oh, do pick him, Carson, and cheer us all up a bit. Alfred’s nice, but he does look like a puppy who’s been rescued from a puddle.

CARSON: Well, this new one seems very sure of himself.

MATTHEW: You can manage that, can’t you?

CARSON: I suppose I could, sir.

MARY: Well, it’s settled, then. Tell the maids they can buy their valentines.

CARSON: So be it, my lady.

(Carson walks toward the door.)

CARSON: But Alfred is very good, you know. He’s very willing, even if he is Miss O’Brien’s nephew.

(Carson exits and Mary and Matthew both laugh quietly.)

MATTHEW: Clearly nothing worse could be said of any man.




Isobel, Mrs Hughes, and Ethel follow to the Bryants’ waiting car, Mr and Mrs Bryant each hold one of Charlie’s hands. Mrs Bryant turns to Ethel.


MRS BRYANT: You’ll want to say goodbye.

(Ethel looks at Charlie and crouches down and gives him his new teddy bear. Ethel smiles at Charlie and kisses his hand.)

ETHEL: I give you my blessings for your whole life long, my darling boy.


ETHEL: You won’t remember that or me. But I’ll stay with you all the same.

(Ethel kisses Charlie’s cheek. Isobel and Mrs Hughes exchange a sad and disapproving look. Ethel embraces Charlie. The Bryants look at each other and Mr Bryant steps forward to collect Charlie.)

MR BRYANT: Let’s not make a meal of it.

(Mr Bryant pulls Charlie away.)


MR BRYANT: Come on.

(Mr Bryant picks up Charlie and carries him to the car. Ethel watches them go, beginning to cry. Mrs Bryant steps up to Ethel.)

MRS BRYANT: I’ll write to you.

ETHEL: I’ll never see my son again.

(Ethel gasps in tears.)

MRS BRYANT: Never is a long time, Ethel. But you were right, he does love Charlie. And not just for his father’s sake. Now, I must be going. Say goodbye.


Mrs Bryant steps back and nods to Mrs Hughes and Isobel. Ethel watches Charlie through the car window as Mrs Bryant walks back to the car. She begins to cry again when Charlie waves to her. The car starts off and Ethel takes a few steps toward it, then stops and puts her hands to her face as she watches the car drive away. Ethel cried bitterly and Mrs Hughes steps up behind her.


MRS HUGHES: You’ve done a hard thing today, Ethel. The hardest thing of all.

ETHEL: You don’t agree, do you?

ISOBEL: I don’t want to make you doubt now that it’s happened.

MRS HUGHES: You’ve done the right thing for the boy, Ethel, whatever Mrs Crawley may say, begging your pardon, ma’am.

ISOBEL: Perhaps you’re right.

MRS HUGHES: I am, until we live in a very different world from this one.

ETHEL: Well, then. I should be away.

(Ethel walks down the road, pulling her coat in around her. Isobel and Mrs Hughes watch her go.)

MRS HUGHES: What chance is there for a woman like her? She’s taken the road to ruin. There’s no way back.




The guards enter.


TURNER: Stand up! Against the wall, the pair of you.

(The other guards push Craig and Bates against the wall.)

CRAIG: What you looking for?

TURNER: Just keep quiet.

(The guards search the beds. Durrant enters and looks at Craig with concern. One of the guards finds something in Craig’s mattress.)

GUARD: Mr Turner.

TURNER: Well, well. A very mysterious package, I don’t think.

(Durrant looks at Bates.)

TURNER: Craig, what d’you call this?

CRAIG: I don’t know. I’ve done nothing.

(Turner looks at Bates, then back at Craig.)

TURNER: You better come with us, Craig.

(Turner nods to the other guards and exits. Craig looks at Bates.)

CRAIG: You’ll be sorry.




A motorcar drives to Downton Abbey. Sybil enters the hall alone. Tom jogs in, out of breath.


TOM: Oh, thank God.

(Tom and Sybil walk straight into each other’s arms and hold tight. They pull back just enough to kiss. Tom strokes her cheek with tears in his eyes.)

TOM: I’m so sorry.

SYBIL: Shh. It’s all right.




Tom and Sybil sit holding each other’s hands while the ladies of the family stand in the room. Anna leaves.


SYBIL: They didn’t try to stop me, but it doesn’t mean they won’t come after us. Unless Papa can persuade them otherwise.

CORA: Tom...

(Cora sits on the bed.)

CORA: How could you have left her all alone to fend for herself?

SYBIL: It wasn’t like that. We thought this might happen and we decided what to do. The question is, what now?

CORA: You mustn’t travel anymore, not before the baby’s born.

(Tom and Sybil look at each other for a moment.)

SYBIL: But Tom wants it to be born in Dublin.


Mary stares at Sybil in disbelief.


MARY: He won’t hold you to that now.

TOM: Well, won’t this be the first place that they look?

MARY: How could you be part of it? The… are like us.

(Tom looks away and stands up.)

MARY: She came out with me. She was Laura then. How could you dance ‘round her burning house, Tom? It’s horrible.

SYBIL: He didn’t dance. And he isn’t dancing now.


Someone knocks.


SYBIL: Come in.

(Carson enters with a tiny silver tray.)

CARSON: Telegram for you, my lady.

(Cora takes it and Sybil stands in anticipation. Cora reads it quickly to herself.)

CORA: Your father’s coming home. He’s seen Mr Short.

SYBIL: And what happened?

CORA: He doesn’t say, only that neither of you is to leave Downton.




Thomas enters with a couple suitcases.


MOLESLEY: You’re back.

THOMAS: I am. Anything happen here?

MOLESLEY: There’s a new footman; came today. How was London?

THOMAS: I had fun, as a matter of fact.

MOLESLEY: Has the … been saved?

THOMAS: That’s not for me to say, is it Mr Molesley? I better take these upstairs.




Thomas passes the new footman’s room as he walks down the hall. He stops and looks back in the room where Jimmy is changing clothes.


THOMAS: You got the job then?

JIMMY: I’m on my way, Mr Barrow. They say you were a footman once.

THOMAS: That’s right.

JIMMY: So can I come to you if there’s anything I need to know?

THOMAS: Certainly. Why not?

(Thomas nods with a smile and continues down the hall as Jimmy finishes dressing. O’Brien walks by and looks in at the half-dressed man, then down the hall at Thomas.)




The family gathers. Tom stands by Sybil’s seat on the couch.


TOM: I can never go back to Ireland? That’s impossible!

ROBERT: If you do, you’ll be put in prison. It’s the best I could manage.

CORA: Surely they need proof to ban a man from his own country.

ROBERT: They have more proof than Tom will concede.

SYBIL: Is that fair?

(Sybil takes Tom’s hand.)

SYBIL: He’s admitted to being there. He told you so himself.

ROBERT: But he did not tell me that he attended Dublin meetings where the attacks on the Anglo-Irish were planned.


Matthew, Mary, and Sybil look at Tom in surprise. Sybil pulls her hand away from Tom’s, looking betrayed and disappointed.


TOM: I was always against any personal violence. I swear it.

VIOLET: Oh, so at least we can sleep in our beds.

ROBERT: Maybe, but you were not against the violent destruction of property.

TOM: I’ve told you, the sight of it was worse than I expected.

MATTHEW: So, what was the deal you managed to extract from the home secretary?

ROBERT: They don’t want to make a martyr of him. And with Sybil, they think they could have another Maud Gonne on their hands, or Lady Gregory, or worse if they’re not careful.

VIOLET: Lady Gregory, Countess Markievicz...why are the Irish rebels so well born?

ROBERT: Whatever the reason, I don’t want Lady Sybil Branson to join their ranks. Mercifully, nor do the Irish authorities. If Tom can stay away, they’ll leave him alone.

TOM: I can’t be kept away from Ireland.

ROBERT: You’ll be arrested the moment you touch dry land.




MRS PATMORE: Now then, do what Mr Carson tells you.

JIMMY: I know what I’m about.

DAISY: Are you all right, Alfred?

ALFRED: Yes. But shouldn’t I be carrying the pork and Jimmy the veg? I am first footman.

MRS PATMORE: Never mind that. Up you go.

DAISY: I think Alfred’s right. Isn’t he first footman, like he says.

MRS PATMORE: That’s for Mr Carson to decide. By heck, it’s nice to think we’re running at full strength again.

DAISY: Really? I’m running at full strength and always have been with no one to help me neither.

MRS PATMORE: All in good time, Daisy. All in good time.




VIOLET: What do you mean you wrote to a newspaper? No lady writes to a newspaper.

EDITH: What about Lady Sarah Wilson? She’s the daughter of a duke and she worked as a war journalist.

VIOLET: Well, she’s a Churchill. The Churchills are different.

MARY: Have we no Churchill blood?

CORA: I think Granny’s right.

VIOLET: Can somebody write that down?

CORA: It’s good to have strong views, but notoriety is never helpful.

EDITH: Well, I’ve sent it now.

ROBERT: It won’t be published.

EDITH: Thank you for the vote of confidence, Papa.

CORA: This is our new footman, Mamma. What should we call you?

JIMMY: Jimmy.

CARSON: James, Your Ladyship.

(Carson steps forward and clears his throat.)

CARSON: This is James.

ROBERT: Welcome to Downton, James.

JAMES: Thank you, milord.

(James stands there stiffly and looks sideways at Carson before exiting.)

MARY: Well done, Carson. That must’ve cheered up the maids.

VIOLET: He looks like a footman in a musical review.

EDITH: Poor Alfred. We mustn’t allow him to be completely overshadowed.

CARSON: Quite right, my lady. Hard work and diligence weigh more than beauty in the real world.

VIOLET: If only that were true.




James, Alfred, and Carson descend the stairs.


JAMES: I’ve never been James in my life. I was Jimmy to Lady Anstruther.

(James stops and turns around when Carson speaks.)

CARSON: I don’t care if you were Father Christmas to Lady Anstruther. You’re James now, and you will stay James while you’re at Downton.

JAMES: He thinks he’s the Big Cheese and no mistake.

ALFRED: That’s ‘cause he is the Big Cheese.


O’Brien and Thomas watch James and Alfred enter the kitchens for the next course.


O’BRIEN: He’s nice, that new bloke, isn’t he?

THOMAS: Why do you say that?

O’BRIEN: Oh, only an impression, that’s all.

(O’Brien leaves. Thomas looks at her, then back at James, considering her comment.)




Robert, Tom, and Matthew have drinks after dinner.


TOM: If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to bed. Can you tell the others?

ROBERT: Tomorrow we’ll make some plans.

TOM: I don’t know how.

(Tom walks toward the door.)

MATTHEW: You’ve lived out of Ireland before, surely you can again?

TOM: But Ireland’s coming of age now and I need to be part of that. But I know what you’ve done for me. I know you kept me free...and I am grateful. Truly.


Tom exits.


MATTHEW: Poor chap. I’m sure he is grateful.

ROBERT: No, he’s not. He says it to keep the peace with Sybil. But then, I only rescued him for Sybil’s sake, so I suppose we’re even.

(Robert takes a sip and Matthew smokes his cigar.)

ROBERT: Did you get a chance to look through the books they brought in?

MATTHEW: As a matter of fact, I did.

ROBERT: Could you make head or tail of them?

MATTHEW: I think so, yes. I was waiting for a...good moment to discuss them.


MATTHEW: Yes, there was some...aspects of the way things have been done that I wasn’t quite sure about.

ROBERT: You sound like Murray.


ROBERT: He’s always banging on about how we should overhaul this or overhaul that. Nothing’s ever right for him.

MATTHEW: Well, I...

ROBERT: Come on, we should let them get in here. We can talk about it another time, if you really want to.

(Robert leaves and Matthew thinks over the situation uncomfortably.)




Bates is reading when Turner opens the door. Turner tosses a tied stack of letters onto the desk.


TURNER: These came for you, Bates.

(Bates looks at the letters.)

BATES: When? When did they come?

TURNER: They came when you were out of favour. Now you’re in favour again.

BATES: Why? What have I done?

(Turner pauses to think before answering.)

TURNER: Just watch out for Mr Durrant. You’re not a favourite with him.

(Turner exits and Bates flips through the letters. Bates chuckles with relieved happiness and opens a letter.)




Mr Carson looks around and sniffs the air. He sees smoke coming from another room.


CARSON: Oh...my...

(Carson rushes down the corridor, grabbing a fire pail. He takes off the cover and rushes into Mrs Hughes’s sitting room, stopping abruptly when he finds Mrs Hughes sitting there.)

HUGHES: Oh! Are you going to tip that over me? I was just making myself some toast. You have to set the number on the dial, and I had it up to high. But I’ve got the hang of it now.

(Mrs Hughes takes some lightly toasted bread out of the toaster.)

HUGHES: Would you like a piece?

CARSON: I was worried that Mr Branson might take it into his head to burn the house down, but I didn’t think that you would.

HUGHES: No? I should never take anything for granted, Mr Carson.

CARSON: No, no, no, no, not now.

(Mrs Hughes chuckles and Mr Carson exits with a sigh.)




Sybil sits in bed with a cross look on her face.


SYBIL: You never told me you went to those meetings.

TOM: I never told you I didn’t.

SYBIL: And what else haven’t you told me?

TOM: I all I know is, I can’t stay here. Not for long.

SYBIL: You must. And so must I. And you must let the baby be born here.

TOM: You’re very free with your musts.

SYBIL: But I will not be free with our child’s chances.

(Tom gets into bed.)

SYBIL: We need peace and safety.

(Sybil puts her hand over Tom’s.)

SYBIL: Downton can offer us both.




Robert reads the paper as he, Matthew, Edith, and Tom sit down to breakfast.


ROBERT: God in heaven! “Earl’s daughter speaks out for women’s rights.”

(Robert lowers the paper to look at Edith.)

EDITH: What?

ROBERT: “In a letter to this newspaper today, Lady Edith Crawley, daughter of the earl of Grantham...”

(Edith looks excitedly at Matthew, who begins to grin.)

ROBERT: “Condemns the limitations of the women’s suffrage bill, and denounces the government’s aims to return women to their pre-war existence.”

(Edith smiles.)

EDITH: You said they wouldn’t print it.

MATTHEW: Well done. That’s most impressive.

ROBERT: Don’t say you support her.

MATTHEW: Of course I support her. And so do you, really...when you’ve...had a chance to think about it.

TOM: So I should hope, anyway.


ROBERT: What do you think, Carson?

CARSON: I would rather not say, my lord.




Anna climbs the stairs. Mrs Hughes stops at the bottom of the steps.



ANNA: Yes?

HUGHES: There’s quite a package of letters arrived for you earlier.

(Anna walks quickly back down and flips through the letters.)

HUGHES: Are they all from Mr Bates?

(Anna nods and smiles with tears in her eyes.)

ANNA: It looks like it.

HUGHES: Why so many at once?

ANNA: Oh, I neither know, nor care, just so long as I’ve got them.




Daisy looks through the cupboard. Alfred enters and clasps his hands behind his back.


ALFRED: Thanks for sticking up for me last night.

DAISY: It won’t make any difference.

ALFRED: Well, no, but it’s good to know you’re on my side.

(Daisy thinks for a moment and gathers her courage and turns around.)

DAISY: I am on your side, Alfred. In fact... There’s something I’ve been wanting to say.

ALFRED: You’ve got my attention.

DAISY: Well…

MRS PATMORE: Ah, here you are, Daisy.


Mrs Patmore enters with another girl.


MRS PATMORE: I’d like to introduce Miss Ivy Stuart, the new kitchen maid.

(Alfred smiles down at the pretty maid.)

MRS PATMORE: And this is Daisy, my assistant cook.

ALFRED: My, but aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, Miss Stuart.

(Daisy looks up at Alfred.)

MRS PATMORE: That’s enough of that. Alfred’s a footman, so you’ll know enough not to listen to a word he says. Shoo.

(Mrs Patmore waves him away. Alfred steps forward and leans down toward Ivy.)

ALFRED: Tell me if you need any help.

(Daisy stares at them. Alfred begins to leave, then turns around.)

ALFRED: Sorry, Daisy, what were you saying?

DAISY: Nothing. Don’t matter now.


Alfred leaves and Ivy steps up to Daisy with a smile.


IVY STUART: I hope we’re going to get on.

DAISY: We don’t have to get on. We have to work together.

(Daisy turns back to her cupboard.)




Matthew visits Violet. He voice is anxious.


MATTHEW: A situation has arisen, and...I’m not quite sure which way to turn.

VIOLET: Well, obviously, if you’ve turned to me.

MATTHEW: Robert won’t discuss the matter. And Mary is affronted by the very mention of it. But given that I’ve sunk my own fortune, alongside everyone else’s, into...

VIOLET: Into—into Downton.

MATTHEW: I feel a duty, apart from anything else, to do what I can.

VIOLET: About?

MATTHEW: Downton is being mismanaged, Cousin Violet, and something must be done. The thing is, how do I do it without putting people’s noses out of joint?

VIOLET: Oh, my dear. Oh, I doubt there is a way to achieve that. I mean, you must do what needs to be done, of course, but...oh, I think I can safely say a great many noses will be out of joint.




Bates sits on the bed reading his post with a big smile. Anna curls up in bed with a letter, crying with happiness. They both read into the night, delighting in the letters from each other.


End of the episode.

Ecrit par stella

Kikavu ?

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