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#309 : Un château en Écosse

Le clan Downton décide de s'éloigner du quotidien et du domaine en prenant le cap vers les Hightlands en Ecosse pour des vacances d'été bien méritées. Les Crawleys décident alors de faire de même mais partent quant à eux, au château de Duneagle en compagnie d'Anna, Bates et d'O'Brien. Pendant ce temps à Downton, le temps semble long pour le reste du personnel. Certains commencent à tomber dans l'ennuie et M. Carson essaie tout de même de garder un semblant d'activité malgré le fait que le personnel soit distrait...


4.27 - 11 votes

Titre VO
A journey to the Highlands

Titre VF
Un château en Écosse

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Première diffusion en France


Christmas special 2012 | Trailer (VO)

Christmas special 2012 | Trailer (VO)


Promo 2 (vo)

Promo 2 (vo)


Fin de l'épisode (VO)

Fin de l'épisode (VO)



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France (inédit)
Samedi 13.12.2014 à 20:50
0.45m / 1.8% (Part)

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Grande-Bretagne (inédit)
Mardi 25.12.2012 à 20:45

Plus de détails


Réalisateur : David Evans

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
Dan Stevens... Matthew Crawley
Penelope Wilton... Isobel Crawley
Jim Carter... Charles Carson
Phyllis Logan... Elsie Hughes
Joanne Froggatt... Anna Smith
Brendan Coyle... John Bates
Sophie McShera... Daisy Robinson Mason
Lesley Nicol... Beryl Patmore
Rob James-Collier... Thomas Barrow
Siobhan Finneran... Sarah O'Brien  
Kevin Doyle... Molesley
David Robb... Docteur Clarkson
Matt Milne... Alfred Nugent
Cara Theobold... Ivy Stuart
Ed Speleers... Jimmy Kent


Guests Stars :

Kenneth Bryans (Nield), MyAnna Buring (Edna), Ron Donachie (M. McCree), Charles Edwards (Gregson), Peter Egan (Shrimpie Flintshire), Shaun Hennesy (Arbitre), Jon Henshaw (Jos Tufton), Lily James (Lady Rose), Simone Lahbib (Wilkins), Phoebe Nicholls (Susan Flintshire)







A cart is being loaded with luggage, including fishing rods, hat boxes, the lot.




Anna is carrying a suitcase. O’Brien, who is carrying cases of her own, approaches.


O’BRIEN: Anna. What have you got for hair in the evening?

ANNA: Er… Diamond stars and one tiara. We may not use it, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.

(A new, pretty maid, Edna, walks down the passage, passing Branson, and giving him a good looking over)




Daisy and Mrs Patmore make sandwiches and peel boiled eggs.


MRS PATMORE: Wrap it all in brown paper so they won’t have a basket to worry about at the other end.




Bates comes in to find Jimmy.


BATES: The suitcases are finished.

JIMMY: Okay. I’ll go up and get them now.


He starts up the stairs. Ivy has overheard this.


IVY: It’s quite a palaver, isn’t it? Do they go to Duneagle every year?

BATES: Not last year after Lady Sybil died, and not during the war. But otherwise, it’s the high spot of his lordship’s calendar.




Cases are being packed. Thomas oversees the equipment being carried outside.


THOMAS: Come on, quickly, quickly. Straight onto the wagonette.

(Alfred’s loading cases. Molesley, in a panic, is with Carson)

MOLESLEY: Why aren’t we taking the guns?

CARSON: Because you’re going stalking, Mr Molesley. And stalking does not involve shotguns.

MOLESLEY: Well, maybe we should take them, just to be sure.

CARSON: I am already sure.

(Branson looks on, with his baby in his arms. Alfred, Jimmy and Thomas struggle to get a particularly heavy case onto the cart. Thomas and Jimmy walk back into the house awkwardly, and in silence. Jimmy walks away)




Anna is dressing a pregnant Mary, under Matthew’s gaze.


MARY: We can’t possibly chuck now. We couldn’t be so rude.

MATTHEW: Why don’t I go on my own?

MARY: Darling, this isn’t 1850. No one expects me to hide indoors until the baby’s born.

MATTHEW: Of course not… Well, all right. If you’re certain. But if you change your mind at any point and want to come home, just tell me.

(He leaves. Anna looks at Mary)

ANNA: I hope you know what you’re doing.

MARY: Et tu, Brute?




Thomas reads a newspaper. Bates, Molesley and O’Brien are in overcoats as Ivy comes in with a large parcel. Anna follows.


IVY: There you are. That’s your lunch for the train.

ANNA: I’ve four evening dresses for ten nights. Do you think it’s enough?

O’BRIEN: I’ve put in five.

IVY: It all seems very formal. I thought they were going stalking.

O’BRIEN: How do you think they eat their dinner? Wrapped in a towel?

THOMAS: I envy you, Mr Bates. I’d love to go stalking at Duneagle. But then I suppose you won’t be out on the hill much. Not with your leg.


Mrs Hughes arrives. She addresses the new maid.


MRS HUGHES: Edna, they’re almost out of the dining room.

EDNA: I thought I was doing the bedrooms.

MRS HUGHES: We clear the dining room first and clean the bedrooms when they’re out of them. Like any other house.

EDNA: Not any house in 1921.

MRS HUGHES: I can’t help that. We still do things properly at Downton Abbey.




Edith is on the telephone. She is smiling, despite herself.


EDITH: Well, no, we’d be thrilled to see you… It just seems an awfully long way to come for a walk…




Carson and Thomas attend the whole family at breakfast, including all the women, as Edith walks back in and sits down.


CORA: Who was it?

EDITH: My editor, Michael Gregson… He’s realised he’s going to be in Scotland at the same time as us.

MARY: Don’t tell me he’ll be near Duneagle?

EDITH: Apparently.

MARY: What a coincidence.

(Mary and Matthew share a look)

EDITH: Yes, isn’t it?

CORA: Maybe we can ask him over. We want to meet him, don’t we, Robert?

MATTHEW: Why are the Flintshires based in Scotland when the title’s Welsh?

ROBERT: Oh, Shrimpie’s grandmother was Countess of Newtonmore in her own right; it’s now their courtesy title. She was chiefly heiress of that strand of the MacClares and they took her name. Shrimpie’s the chief now.

MATTHEW: Dare one ask why he’s called Shrimpie?

ROBERT: It was a nursery game. Louisa was a lobster, Agatha was a shark, which is easy to believe, and I suppose Shrimpie was a shrimp.

BRANSON: Is he very small?

MARY: No, but he was the youngest.8

CORA: I’m sorry you won’t be with us.

BRANSON: Why should they ask me? I don’t know them at all.

MATTHEW: Nor do I, really.

ROBERT: Are you sure you should be going?

MARY: Don’t be a spoilsport. I still have a month.

(She notices that Carson is watching her intently)

MARY (CONT’D): You don’t want me to go, either.

CARSON: I think you should take good care of yourself, m’lady. That’s all.

ROBERT: I agree. Right. Let’s get started. I told

Mama we’d be on the platform at quarter to, and we’re late.




Bates, Molesley, O’Brien and Anna are walking by the luggage van.


ANNA: It feels like a holiday, doesn’t it?

O’BRIEN: Oh, don’t worry. It won’t feel like a holiday once we get there.

MOLESLEY: Oh! Let me just retrieve the briefcase. He might need it for the journey.

(He darts back into the van as O’Brien walks off down the platform, leaving Anna and Bates alone)

BATES: I ought to check their dining-car seats for luncheon.

ANNA: Do you like Scotland?

BATES: Have you really never been?

ANNA: They didn’t go last year, and you know I wasn’t a proper lady’s maid before that.

BATES: No, I meant as a child, or when you were growing up… My mother’s mother was Scottish. She was a Keith. Did I tell you that?


Further down, Robert is talking to Branson, while Isis sniffs around.


ROBERT: Now, you won’t forget to take her for some decent walks? She can be lazy.

BRANSON: Don’t worry. She’ll be fine.

(Violet has met the others. Isobel is there)

ISOBEL: Have you got everything?

VIOLET: Well, if I haven’t it’s too late now. Do you think it’s wise? To leave him here unsupervised?

(She is looking at Branson, who is chatting to Robert)

CORA: What do you mean?

VIOLET: Well, I know he’s housebroken, more or less, but I don’t want freedom to go to his head.

ISOBEL: I’ll keep an eye on him. He can come to dinner tonight.

VIOLET: Oh, well. That’s one day taken care of. Only nine to go.

(They climb in. The whistle blows. Isobel waves them off, Matthew blows his mother a kiss and Branson stands with Isis)




The servants are eating lunch.


ALFRED: So, will we have a bit of a break while they’re away, Mr Carson?


JIMMY: He meant can we expect some time off? For an outing or something.

CARSON: I don’t understand. Has someone forgotten to pay your wages?


CARSON: Exactly. Now, we will start with the ceremonial ware. And when that’s done, I want all the silver brought down for cleaning, one room at a time.

(The three maids at the table snigger)

MRS HUGHES: And don’t you maids think you’re out of it. We’ll give every room a thorough cleaning while they’re away…

(She lowers her voice as she whispers to Carson)

MRS HUGHES (CONT’D): But you can let them have a bit of free time, can’t you?

CARSON: If they get the extra work done, then I’ll think about it.




Edna picks up a picture of Sybil as Mrs Hughes comes in.



(Edna puts down the picture and starts on the bed)

EDNA: Why hasn’t Mr Branson been asked to go with the others?

MRS HUGHES: I’m sure I don’t know.

EDNA: I wonder what Lady Flintshire made of her cousin’s daughter eloping with a chauffeur.

MRS HUGHES: It’s not your place to wonder.

(Mrs Hughes adjusts the picture)

EDNA: What was she like?

MRS HUGHES: She was a sweet, kind person, and a real beauty, inside and out.

EDNA: You’d think she could have done better.

MRS HUGHES: But she didn’t think she could do better, and that’s what matters.

EDNA: He’s nice looking. I’ll give him that.

MRS HUGHES: I don’t think you’re required to give him anything.




Isobel is having tea with Doctor Clarkson.


CLARKSON: She’ll be a long way off.

ISOBEL: But not in the middle of nowhere. There are hospitals in Inverness.

CLARKSON: You mean I’m being an old woman.

ISOBEL: Well… After Sybil, who could blame you?

CLARKSON: It’ll be very quiet for you, with them all gone.

ISOBEL: It will. Why not come to supper tomorrow? I daren’t call it dinner as I don’t know what we can conjure up. But do come.

CLARKSON: I don’t want to be a nuisance.

ISOBEL: You won’t be. Tom Branson’s here this evening, so I shall be back in training.

CLARKSON: Thank you. I’d be delighted.




Branson sits at the table, when Edna comes in with a tray.


EDNA: Oh. Mr Carson sent me up to clear. He thought you’d be out of here.

BRANSON: I should be.

EDNA: It seems sad for you to be left behind, all on your own.

BRANSON: I’m used to it.

EDITH: Yes. Yes, of course, you would be… It must be very hard.

(She has spoken with feeling, and he’s slightly taken aback. He gets up)

BRANSON: Don’t worry about me. I’ve got plenty to do… You’re the new maid, aren’t you? What’s your name?

EDNA: Edna. Edna Braithwaite.




This is a fairytale castle, with turrets and battlements and secret windows. The family party climbs out of two cars as Shrimpie, his wife, Susan, and Rose greet them.


ROBERT: Shrimpie. This is so nice of you.

SHRIMPIE: Nonsense. I can’t tell you how glad we are. Cora. Edith.

(He kisses the two women on one cheek only)

ROSE: Daddy, this is Matthew. Defender of the downtrodden. Including me.

MATTHEW: I don’t know why I’ve earned that.

SHRIMPIE: We met at your wedding. Mary.

(He kisses Mary as Susan kisses Violet)

SUSAN: Aunt Violet. We feel so privileged to have lured you this far north.

VIOLET: Oh, my dear. You flatter me, which is just as it should be.


Rose, Mary and Edith lead the way into a splendid hall.


ROSE: We’ve got lots of things planned — oh, and there’s the Ghillies’ Ball, which Mary’s always the star of…

SUSAN: Rose, don’t wear them out.

(But she catches herself and turns, smiling, to Cora)

SUSAN: We remembered how you liked our mountain loch; we’ve arranged for luncheon to be taken up there one day.

SHRIMPIE: That was my idea.

(Clearly, Susan is infuriated by this, which Cora sees)

CORA: Well, whoever’s idea it was, it’s a lovely one.

SUSAN: Tea is in the library when you’re ready to come down.

(They all continue their conversations as they file into the grand hallway)




Molesley wanders down the passage, looking slightly haunted. A voice makes him jump. It is the butler, Mr McCree.


MCCREE: What’s the matter, Mr Crawley? Looking for the servants’ hall?

MOLESLEY: I feel like Ariadne. Only I’ve lost me thread.

MCCREE: Duneagle’s quite a maze. They do say, on dark nights, you can hear the ghost of a young girl who never found her way back to her room.

MOLESLEY: Really? They say that, do they?

(The thought has not calmed him down)




Some of the servants, including Thomas, are reading and sewing when a robust man in his sixties appears in the doorway.


TUFTON: I’m looking for a Mrs Patmore.

THOMAS: Why’s that, then?

TUFTON: I’ve got some deliveries for her.

THOMAS: Really? Where from?

TUFTON: You’re not very curious, are you?

THOMAS: And you’re not one of our regulars.

TUFTON: Well, if you must know, I’ve taken over from Mr Cox in Thirsk. Mrs Patmore sent an order in to him.

MRS PATMORE: What’s this? Do I hear my name taken in vain?

(She, Daisy and Ivy have arrived, carrying the tea things)

TUFTON: I was just explaining. You sent an order in to Mr Cox. Well, I’ve bought the shop and all the stock so I thought I’d take the liberty of filling it out.

THOMAS: It was a liberty. How do you know she wants to do business with you?

MRS PATMORE: All right, Mr Barrow. I can fight my own battles, thank you. So, where is this order, then?

(He walks into the passage and picks up a large box)

MRS PATMORE: Bring it to the kitchen. And what’s your name, since you know mine?

TUFTON: It’s Tufton. Jos Tufton.


They walk off. In the servants’ hall, Alfred speaks.


ALFRED: What was Mr Cox’s shop?

THOMAS: A grocer’s, but finer than Bakewell’s in the village. Spices and foreign oils and special cheese and such.

ALFRED: I’d like to see that.


In the kitchen, Mrs Patmore is unpacking the wares.


TUFTON: What’s this?

MRS PATMORE: Some Vichyssoise. Left over from last night.

(He does not wait for permission, sticking his fingers in and tasting it)

TUFTON: Oh, that’s heaven. Have you any more leftovers going begging?

MRS PATMORE: Have a bit of the tart if you like.

(He helps himself)

TUFTON: Don’t mind if I do.

(It is a great success)

TUFTON: I’ve not had food that good since the last time I were in London.

MRS PATMORE: Oh, I’m not just a pretty face.

TUFTON: This family’s fallen on its feet and no mistake. I wouldn’t mind eating food like that every day.

MRS PATMORE: Enough of the flannel; I’ll keep the order. But if there’s owt amiss, you’ll be hearing from me.

TUFTON: Let’s just hope that there’s something not quite up to scratch.

MRS PATMORE: Why do you say that?

TUFTON: Because I’d like to hear from you again,

Mrs Patmore. I would.

MRS PATMORE: Be off with you, you cheeky devil. Go on.

(He snatches another sliver of the tart as he goes. Ivy and Daisy giggle as they look on)




The servants, visitors and employees are eating supper. The butler, Mr McCree, is next to Anna.


MCCREE: Are you not hungry?

ANNA: It’s a bit early for us. We eat our dinner after the family’s.

WILKINS: Oh, I agree with you, Miss Crawley. In London we eat last thing when all the work is done, and I prefer it.

MCCREE: How about you, Miss Grantham?

O’BRIEN: Me? Oh, I do what I’m told.

ANNA: It makes me laugh when I hear Miss O’Brien and Mr Bates called Mr and Miss Grantham.

BATES: Mrs Bates and I don’t often work in the same house party.

MCCREE: Of course, you two are married, Miss Crawley. How do you manage at home, being called Bates and Bates?

ANNA: We’re not. They still call me Anna, like when I was a housemaid.

O’BRIEN: Which isn’t right. I do so hate to see a lady’s maid downgraded.

WILKINS: Oh, I so agree, Miss Grantham, but then we would think alike, wouldn’t we? It’s a treat to have a kindred spirit come to stay. It really is.

MCCREE: Tell Mrs Crane I’ve gone up. I’ll announce dinner in ten minutes.




The men are in white tie, the married women with diamonds in their hair. It is a real pre-war image. A piper circles the table, then he finishes and leaves. Robert is thrilled.


ROBERT: How marvellous.

SUSAN: I should remind you that he’ll be back to pipe us awake at eight o’clock.

ROSE: And he keeps it up through breakfast.

SHRIMPIE: So the chances of getting back to sleep again are nil.

SUSAN: All right, Shrimpie. The point has been made.

(Her annoyance has been noticed. Robert salvages the moment)

ROBERT: You’ve no need to apologise. I’m glad to see the old ways being maintained.

SHRIMPIE: Tomorrow we’ll kit you out with some rifles for some practice.

VIOLET: And what is planned for the women?

ROSE: Well, there’s a picnic by the loch the day after tomorrow, and the Ghillies’ Ball on Friday is always good fun.

SUSAN: As long as it’s not too much fun.

(Rose rolls her eyes and giggles, which irritates Susan)

EDITH: As a matter of fact, a friend of mine is staying quite nearby. I thought I might telephone him.

ROSE: Oh, but you must ask him here.

ROBERT: She doesn’t have to.

CORA: Oh, please do. I’d like to meet him.

SHRIMPIE: Right, that’s settled then. Invite him to dinner tomorrow night. Unless, of course, Susan objects.

SUSAN: Of course I don’t object. Why on earth would I object?

(We can see that Shrimpie tries to wrong-foot her, too)




Ivy is carrying a tray of late-night tea things when she passes Edna standing in the staircase hall, pulling the petals off a flower, muttering under her breath.


IVY: Well, does he love you? Or not?

EDNA: I think I could make him, whatever the flowers says, and I mean to try.

(They are overtaken by Mrs Patmore who enters the servants’ hall, talking. Ivy and Edna follow her in)

MRS PATMORE: I thought it was too good to be true. He’s sent dried ginger instead of fresh. Oh, it’s my fault. I just put ‘ginger’ because Mr Cox knew what I liked.

THOMAS: I might go into Thirsk tomorrow. I can take it back for you if you want.

MRS PATMORE: Would you? You should go with him, Alfred. You’d like that shop.

CARSON: Who’s doing what tomorrow?

MRS PATMORE: Mr Barrow’s going into Thirsk. I said Alfred should go with him.

CARSON: Who says I can spare them? What about Mr Branson’s luncheon?

THOMAS: I doubt he needs an under butler, Mr Carson, or two footmen.

MRS HUGHES: He told me he’d get lunch at the Grantham Arms. So, can they go?

CARSON: I suppose so. But there’s a lot to be done, and don’t forget it.

(He shakes out his newspaper. Edna is thinking)




Isobel is drinking coffee with Branson.


ISOBEL: I hope you’ll come here whenever you like. It must be odd, being alone in that great house.

BRANSON: Well, I’m not alone. There’s people I know well, except they’re all downstairs and I’m up.

ISOBEL: Why not take the opportunity to spend some time with them?

BRANSON: I don’t think old Lady Grantham would approve of that.

ISOBEL: No, but I doubt she approves of the working class learning to read… Tom, can I take this chance to say you’ve managed a very delicate transition superbly?

BRANSON: Thank you.

ISOBEL: But don’t be too eager to please. You have a new identity and I don’t mean because you’re not a chauffeur any more. You are the agent of this estate, and as the agent you have a perfect right to talk to anyone who works under you. Anyone you choose.

BRANSON: That’s quite a speech.

ISOBEL: I mean it. You have a position now and you’re entitled to use it.




Branson closes the back door behind him and walks down the kitchen passage. He seems rather wrapped up in himself. Then Mrs Hughes appears behind him.


MRS HUGHES: Mr Branson.

BRANSON: I didn’t want to drag one of you upstairs to open the door.

MRS HUGHES: That was kind. Oh, I wonder if you would allow the maids to clean during the day, while the family is in Scotland?

BRANSON: You don’t need my permission.

MRS HUGHES: But I do. And if you want to use a particular room, then please let me know, and we’ll vacate it at once.

(He looks at her. He understands she is telling him his role)

BRANSON: Thank you, Mrs Hughes. Goodnight.

MRS HUGHES: Goodnight, Mr Branson.

(He climbs the stairs as Carson comes into the passage)

CARSON: What was he doing down here?

MRS HUGHES: Showing a bit of consideration.

CARSON: But he’s still not at ease, is he?

MRS HUGHES: I expect he’s lonely. Rattling about in this great barn.

CARSON: Then he should ask a friend in for a drink, and not come snuffling round the servants’ quarters.

MRS HUGHES: We don’t all have your standards, Mr Carson, as you never tire of pointing out.




Anna is brushing Mary’s hair. Mary seems uncomfortable.


MARY: I was a bit shaken up on the train, but please don’t say anything. I don’t want to worry Mr Crawley.

ANNA: You don’t want to give him the satisfaction, you mean.

MARY: I can’t spoil his last treat before fatherhood claims him.

ANNA: Not that he’ll change his ways much, if he’s like most men.

(Mary laughs at Anna through the glass)

MARY: Are they looking after you?

ANNA: Oh, yes. But I’m a bit nervous about this Ghillies’ Ball.

MARY: Why?

ANNA: I suppose I just feel so English. I don’t want to look a fool.

MARY: I love reeling. If I weren’t pregnant, I’d dance until dawn.

ANNA: But you are pregnant, m’lady.




A piper walks along the terrace, playing his pipes.




The caterwauling continues. Robert, in bed with Cora, groans.


ROBERT: Bloody hell.

(He turns over. Cora laughs)

CORA: Welcome to the Highlands.

(He pulls a pillow over his head)




Jimmy is watching Daisy and Ivy work to get breakfast ready.


IVY: Are you going into Thirsk? With Mr Barrow and Alfred? Because if you are, you might get me some ribbon.

JIMMY: Me? Larking about with Mr Barrow?

MRS PATMORE: Careful. You know Mr Carson won’t put up with any bad feeling.

JIMMY: I can work with him. He’s the under butler here and I don’t argue with it, but he’s not my choice of playmate and that’s flat.

DAISY: Oh, go. What harm can it do?

JIMMY: If I do go I’m not speaking to him.

MRS PATMORE: Then take a pad and pencil.




One flat cast-iron stag is set about 100 yards from a raised and mown shooting point. A shot rings out and the head ghillie, Nield, who is tight in beside Matthew, is leaning back on something with his telescope trained on the target. Robert is standing beside them, watching the fall of shot.


NIELD: Take your time. You’re not chasing a pheasant. Be calm and confident.

MATTHEW: I thought I was.

NIELD: These are noble beasts. We must take them out for the good of the herd, but they’ve earned our respect and they deserve a clean death.

ROBERT: Fine words.


Shrimpie and Rose arrive.


SHRIMPIE: How are you getting on?

NIELD: Not too bad, your lordship.

ROSE: That’s high praise from Nield.

MATTHEW: He’s being kind… I don’t suppose your father needs much practice.

NIELD: His lordship was born with a rod in one hand and a gun in the other.

SHRIMPIE: That sounds rather uncomfortable.

(But Nield turns his attention to Matthew)

ROBERT: I love to hear your ghillie speak. It’s like a voice from a bygone age… Where’s Susan?

ROSE: Aunt Violet wanted to see the gardens. So I left them to it.

(She wanders off. Shrimpie glances at Robert)

SHRIMPIE: Rose is not anxious for her mother’s company.

ROBERT: How’s it going with you?

SHRIMPIE: I’m in for an adventure. I’m to don a ceremonial uniform and hold mighty sway on some distant shore.

ROBERT: You won’t mind a foreign posting?

SHRIMPIE: Why not? They say a change of sink is as good as a rest…




Susan Flintshire is walking with Violet.


VIOLET: Do you know where it will be?

SUSAN: No, but it’ll be filthy and dirty and the food will be awful and there’ll be no one to talk to for a hundred square miles.

VIOLET: That sounds like a week with my mother-inlaw. Will Rose go, too?

SUSAN: Why? What’s she been saying?

VIOLET: My dear, no one can accuse me of being modern, but even I can see it’s no crime to be young.

SUSAN: I know that, Aunt Violet. But you don’t see how they gang up on me.

VIOLET: Then I shall strive to keep the peace.

SUSAN: That’s all very well, but you are my mother’s sister, and you can jolly well be on my side.




The bell rings. O’Brien is talking to Wilkins, Lady Flintshire’s maid.


O’BRIEN: I’d like to travel more. We see a bit of London in the Season, but otherwise, it’s Yorkshire.

WILKINS: What about the House of Lords?

O’BRIEN: When his lordship goes up, he just takes Mr Bates with him and stays in his club, which is no use to me.

WILKINS: We’re headed for an outpost of Empire. Her ladyship’s dreading it and so am I.

O’BRIEN: Oh, I don’t know. Something different. I could quite fancy that.

WILKINS: Oh. Not me. All sweat and gippy tummy. Oh, no.




Jimmy and Alfred sit in front of a table full of silver and give one another an unhappy look. Carson appears at the doorway and dramatically clears his throat, at which the two footmen frantically begin cleaning the silver.




Mary and Cora are reading as Edith comes in.


CORA: Did you get him?

EDITH: I did. He said he’d love to come.

MARY: I’m sure he would.

EDITH: What do you mean by that?

MARY: Well, I can’t imagine Mr Gregson finds himself at Duneagle Castle very often. Or anywhere like it.

CORA: Mary, that sounds very snobbish.

MARY: Well, what’s he doing up here?

EDITH: He’s on a sketching holiday. He’s sketching and fishing.

MARY: Fishing? Oh, well. That’s something, I suppose.

MATTHEW: What do you suppose?

(He has just come in)

EDITH: For some reason, Mary has decided to be nasty about Michael Gregson.

MARY: I was simply questioning his motives for being in the Highlands.

EDITH: He’s brought his pencils and his rods. What’s wrong with that?

MATTHEW: Nothing at all. So there.

(This last is to Mary, but he strokes her shoulder and cheek)




Branson is walking towards the pub. Isis is with him.




Branson walks into the bar.


BRANSON: Afternoon, George. The usual and a sandwich, please.

(He catches sight of Edna, smiles and strolls over to join her)

BRANSON: This is very daring. Sitting in a pub on your own? Won’t the village cut you dead forever?

EDNA: I knew you were coming in. And I don’t care about all that stuff.

BRANSON: Do you have the day off?

EDNA: I’ll fudge it but not really. We’ve extra cleaning to do while the family’s away… Of course, you’re family.

BRANSON: Well, I am and I’m not, as I’m sure you know.

EDNA: Anna said when you first came back as Lady Sybil’s husband you refused to dress the part, but you do now.

BRANSON: I was tired of talking about my clothes every time I came downstairs, but I’m still the same man inside.

EDNA: Then why not join us for dinner one night, instead of eating alone?




Thomas, Jimmy and Alfred are leaving Tufton’s shop. Thomas carries a brown paper bag. Tufton has followed them out.


TUFTON: I’ll tell her, and I’ll not forget again.

ALFRED: By ’eck, it were worth the visit, Mr Tufton. What a range. I’ve never heard of some of those spices.

TUFTON: I tell you what: we’ve a fair here, starting Friday. I run a stall and so do some of the suppliers. Why not come?

THOMAS: What sort of fair?

TUFTON: Well, the usual sort of fair. Food, games, Morris dancers and a brass band. But they do it well.

ALFRED: Could we get the time off?

THOMAS: I don’t see why not. Jimmy?

JIMMY: I might come if there’s a crowd of us, but not otherwise.

TUFTON: Have you got a minute? I’ll just put a note in that bag for Mrs Patmore.

THOMAS: Go on, then.

(Tufton hurries back inside his shop)




The dinner is being cleared away.


ANNA: I don’t think I’d realised we’d all be expected at the Ghillies’ Ball.

BATES: Why wouldn’t we be? It’s only a Scottish Servants’ Ball.

ANNA: It’s my own fault. I just wish I’d done more to prepare. Especially now I know my husband’s Scottish.

BATES: Not very.

WILKINS: I dare say it’ll be a bit wilder than any Servants’ Ball at Downton.

MOLESLEY: Not too wild, I hope.

BATES: Come on, Mr Molesley. We’re hoping to see you let your hair down. What there is of it.




Cora is with O’Brien and Robert. She looks splendid in a grand evening dress and a tiara. O’Brien is just leaving.


CORA: Judging by my last experience of a Ghillies’ Ball, I’m terrified, but I dare say we’ll get through it.

ROBERT: You’ll enjoy it. I know I will.

CORA: Of course, you’re in your element, given that life at Duneagle is just as it was in the 1850s.

ROBERT: It may be nostalgia, but can’t you indulge me?

CORA: I wish you could see that what Tom and Matthew and even Mary are doing at home is so much more interesting than anything happening here.

ROBERT: I’m not fighting the changes.

CORA: No. But you’re sad. Sad that the estate isn’t run as it used to be. When I think it’s so much better.

ROBERT: I’m afraid we must agree to differ.

CORA: Yes, but we don’t agree to differ, do we? We just differ.




Carson is with Mrs Hughes.


CARSON: I can’t let them go gallivanting off to every fair at the drop of a hat. I mean, what are we paying them for?

MRS HUGHES: But they’ve been working very hard. Don’t they deserve a treat?

(Mrs Patmore arrives)

MRS PATMORE: Excuse me! On Friday, can I take the afternoon off? I’ll make the servants’ dinner and Ivy and Daisy can serve it.

MRS HUGHES: Mrs Patmore doesn’t often take the time she’s allowed.

CARSON: What about Mr Branson?

MRS HUGHES: I’ll see to Mr Branson. Where are you going? Or shouldn’t we ask?

MRS PATMORE: There’s a fair in Thirsk. A friend of mine has asked me to meet him there.

CARSON: I don’t believe it! Must I be undermined at every turn?

(He storms out. Mrs Patmore is amazed)

MRS PATMORE: What’s got into him?

MRS HUGHES: Mr Barrow and the boys have asked to go to the same fair and he was trying to find a way to say no.

MRS PATMORE: Why don’t we all go? I’ll make Mr Branson a tray and he can keep charge of the house. He won’t mind. Come on. It’ll be fun.




They stand about, with no drinks. The butler announces Mr Gregson. He comes in. Gregson is also in white tie. Gregson is greeting his hostess.


GREGSON: This is very kind of you, Lady Flintshire.

SUSAN: Not a bit. It’s a pleasure to welcome a friend of dear Edith’s.


Across the room, Mary is with Matthew.


MATTHEW: What a disappointment. He looks perfectly normal.

MARY: Since he came here with the express purpose of dining at Duneagle, he obviously bought a set of tails.

EDITH: Come and meet my parents. Mama, Granny, Papa, this is Mr Gregson.

GREGSON: Lady Grantham.

CORA: You know, I started to read your magazine because of Edith’s column, but now I wouldn’t miss it. We read it from cover to cover, don’t we?

ROBERT: It puzzles me why you choose to employ amateurs like my daughter.

MARY: I agree.

GREGSON: Well, is the distinction very meaningful? Surely the most important thing is whether or not people have something to say.

EDITH: Come and meet my sister, Mary.


Across the room, Susan is with Rose.


SUSAN: Do stand up. You’re slouching like a field hand.

ROSE: Might I just have five minutes without being criticised?


Violet and Cora have observed this. Violet speaks softly.


VIOLET: We knew things were awkward between them, but now that I’m here I don’t think Susan handles it very well.

CORA: But it’s so complicated with a young daughter who’s full of new ideas. She thinks you’re fighting her, when all the time you’re just frightened and I’m sorry.

(She breaks off, as her eyes fill with tears)

VIOLET: We all miss her. Every single day.

SUSAN: We’re going in, everyone.

(Cora is taken in by Shrimpie as Mary draws alongside Violet)

MARY: Granny? You look very serious, this evening.

VIOLET: I’ve been thinking. And you know what an effort that can be.




Branson is sitting with Sybbie on his lap. There is a knock at the door.


BRANSON: Come in.

(Edna arrives)

EDNA: Would you like me to take Miss Sybbie up to the nursery?

BRANSON: Thank you. Go with Edna, darling. Oh, go on…

EDNA: Come here.

(Edna takes the child, rocks her gently and walks towards the door, then stops)

EDNA: Can I ask you something?

BRANSON: Be my guest. Please.

EDNA: Are you ashamed of who you are? Or of who you were? Is that why you won’t eat your dinner with us?

BRANSON: No. It is not.

EDNA: Well, I’d better be going.

(She leaves with Sybbie as Alfred comes in. Branson whispers)

BRANSON: It is not.




Anna and Bates are together in the evening light.


ANNA: It never really gets dark here, does it?

BATES: Not like further south, no.

ANNA: I never asked you what your room’s like. Is it nice?

(He reaches up and strokes her cheek)

BATES: It’s fine, but it feels funny being on my own again… Let’s take a picnic out tomorrow. Just the two of us. They’ll be gone for the day. What do you say?

ANNA: I’d love it.

(But they see a lone figure. It is Rose, smoking and crying)

BATES: Is everything all right, m’lady?

ROSE: It will be, if you don’t tell my mother you saw me smoking.

ANNA: Don’t worry. You’re safe with us.

BATES: Would you like a peppermint?

(He has taken out a paper bag. Rose smiles and takes one)

ROSE: I better had. Thank you. Oh, sorry. It’s just my mother has been unusually impossible this evening.

BATES: My whole childhood would seem impossible to you, m’lady. But I survived; so will you.

(There is a movement at the front door)

SUSAN: Rose? Who are you talking to? Come inside at once! Everyone’s in the drawing room!

ROSE: Yes, Mummy.

(She starts towards the entrance, but looks round as she goes)

ROSE: Thanks for the mint.




Clarkson and Isobel are in the drawing room.


CLARKSON: I should be away.

ISOBEL: Oh, don’t go just yet.

CLARKSON: Heaven knows, I’ve no desire to. It makes a welcome change from reading a medical journal and going to bed with a glass of whisky.

ISOBEL: Goodness. I wondered what you were going to say for a moment.

(Which makes them both laugh)

CLARKSON: I sometimes forget, when we meet in the splendour of the Abbey, that you were a doctor’s wife. That you know what my life consists of in a way that no one else does. At any rate, not round here.

ISOBEL: I know. It’s a relief, sometimes, to be able to talk without having to explain one’s self, isn’t it?

CLARKSON: A relief and a privilege. I hope we can do it again, soon.




The company is in there, after dinner. Edith is with Gregson.


GREGSON: Matthew’s asked me to go out stalking with him tomorrow, so I thought I would.

EDITH: Michael, can I ask you why you’re here? Tell me the truth. Please.

(She is in earnest, almost severe. He decides to be honest)

GREGSON: I want to get to know your family.

EDITH: What do you hope to achieve?

GREGSON: I thought if they knew me if they came to like me I’d… they might find it easier to be on my side.

EDITH: It won’t change the basic facts, though, will it?

GREGSON: Edith. My basic fact is that I’m in love with you. You know that already.

EDITH: Do I? Yes, I suppose I do.

GREGSON: I want you in my life and I want to be in yours.

EDITH: That’s all very well, but…

GREGSON: Somehow, I’ve got to work out how to make it possible.

EDITH: When will you tell them the truth?

GREGSON: Not yet. I want them to let me in first. Then we can all deal with it together. Later. When they know me.

(She says nothing and he is not encouraged by her expression)

GREGSON: You don’t think it’s a good plan.

EDITH: I just can’t see a happy ending.

VIOLET: Edith, dear, stop fascinating that young man and come and make a four at Bridge.




Matthew is looking out of the window as Mary gets into bed.


MATTHEW: I wonder what the weather will be like tomorrow.

MARY: You know the golden rule in England or Scotland. Dress for rain. Are you looking forward to it?

MATTHEW: Yes. Though I hope my chap’s less frightening than the head ghillie.

MARY: Just tell him you’re a novice and all will be well. Papa says you must never pretend with these people. They’re always better at it than you’ll ever be.

(Matthew leaves the window and climbs into bed)

MATTHEW: I’ve asked Gregson to come. I won’t see you all day so he’ll be company.

MARY: He was right to invest in those tails, wasn’t he? You know Susan’s invited him to the Ghillies’ Ball? He probably had reeling classes before he left London.

MATTHEW: Don’t dislike him before you know him. That’s the hallmark of our parents’ generation, and I forbid it. Just be as nice as you are.

MARY: You think me nice, but nobody else does. What makes you so sure I am?

MATTHEW: Because I’ve seen you naked and held you in my arms, and I know the real you.

(He strokes her pregnant belly)

MARY: Goodness, what a testimonial.

(They kiss)




Mrs Hughes is with Carson.


MRS HUGHES: Oh, go on. You were young once.

CARSON: I’m young now. Well, I’m not old.

MRS HUGHES: All the more reason to say yes. Oh, you’ll enjoy yourself.

CARSON: No, I won’t be coming.

(He shuts the door to his pantry)

CARSON: If I came, they wouldn’t have fun. They’d spend the day looking over their shoulder.

MRS HUGHES: Well, I’m going. Whether I spoil their fun or not.

CARSON: That’s different. They respect you, of course. But I am their leader.

MRS HUGHES: Well, that’s put me in my place.

CARSON: Don’t envy me, Mrs Hughes. You know what they say. Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown.




Two traps are waiting for the men, all in tweeds. Susan is there. She has not yet changed. Nield is talking to Shrimpie.


NIELD: The wind is north-west and getting stronger. We should get started.


Robert is with Matthew, Gregson and Shrimpie.


GREGSON: Well, good hunting, everyone.

ROBERT: Oh, Shrimpie’s not stalking. He’s coming with me.

NIELD: Mr Crawley? Mr Gregson?


Matthew and Gregson climb into a trap with their beat’s stalker and they head off. Shrimpie’s with Susan.


SHRIMPIE: Is your picnic under control?

SUSAN: Of course.

ROBERT: I’m worried about Mary, bumping through the glen.

SUSAN: She doesn’t have to come.

ROBERT: No, I know, but she will, I’m afraid.


Nield has the reins of the trap in his hands and is waiting to head off to the other beat. Shrimpie is aware of Nield’s eyes upon him.


SHRIMPIE: We’d best get going, otherwise we’re in for some stick.




Mrs Patmore, Daisy and Ivy work. Alfred, Jimmy and Thomas watch.


DAISY: I’m not sure I’m going to go tomorrow. It’s such a waste of money.

MRS PATMORE: Oh, come on. You’ve enough for a few rides and a beef sandwich, I suppose?

THOMAS: I can buy you all a bottle of pop, if you like.

MRS PATMORE: What an offer. Let’s take him up on it before he’s time to think again.

JIMMY: Thank you, Mr Barrow, but I can buy my own pop.

DAISY: Don’t pretend you’ve money to burn.

JIMMY: I can always get money.


The others just roll their eyes as Mrs Hughes comes in.


MRS HUGHES: The store cupboard’s open if you need anything.

MRS PATMORE: No, but I do have something to ask you. Now, where did I put that box?

IVY: This one?

(She gives the box to Mrs Patmore, who leaves with Mrs Hughes)

IVY: Did you see the lid? Mrs Curley’s dress shop in Ripon. She’s got a fancy man. I’m telling you.

ALFRED: Mrs Patmore?

DAISY: Why not? She’s a woman, isn’t she?

THOMAS: Only technically.




Anna is putting some clothes away when Rose comes in.


ROSE: Oh. I was looking for Lady Mary. To tell her we’re going.

ANNA: She’s already gone down, m’lady.

ROSE: You were kind to cheer me up yesterday. I did feel terribly blue.

ANNA: That’s all right.

ROSE: You must let me know if I can return the favour.

ANNA: As a matter of fact, there is something you could help me with…




A proud stag lifts his head and sniffs the air. On the hill above, Nield has set the rifle in place and gently indicates with his finger for Robert to crawl forward and take up the weapon. Robert moves forward, carefully keeping his head down, and Shrimpie follows.


ROBERT: Shall I take it from here?

(But the chance is gone)

NIELD: We can bring you to a better place. We don’t rush things at Duneagle.

SHRIMPIE: Well, that’s true, God knows.




Mrs Hughes is watching as Mrs Patmore holds up a pink shirt.


MRS PATMORE: You don’t think it’s too girlish?

MRS HUGHES: And what’s the matter with being girlish once in a while? Heaven knows, we don’t have much opportunity.

MRS PATMORE: I’d wear a coat over it, you know, so it wouldn’t jump out at you.

MRS HUGHES: I hope he’s worth it.

(Mrs Patmore takes a letter from her apron pocket)

MRS PATMORE: Read that.

MRS HUGHES: ‘I hope you will allow me the honour of squiring you through the day.’

MRS PATMORE: No man’s wanted to squire me since the Golden Jubilee. Even then he expected me to buy the drinks.

MRS HUGHES: Suppose he wants something more?

MRS PATMORE: I beg your pardon!

MRS HUGHES: There is only one reason why a man his age courts a respectable woman. He finds himself in need of a wife.

(This does make Mrs Patmore pause)




Bates and Anna are unpacking a modest picnic.


BATES: Is there anything to drink?

ANNA: There certainly is.

(She takes out a bottle and two glasses, and starts to pour)

BATES: Beer? That’s very racy of you.

ANNA: I am racy.

BATES: What shall we drink to?

ANNA: The future and your Scottish blood.

(She almost giggles. He looks at her)

BATES: What are you up to?

ANNA: Nothing.

(He takes the picnic basket and holds it out of her reach)

BATES: What are you up to?

ANNA: Nothing!

(She laughs, he hands the basket back and they kiss)




Some of the staff are here, eating their lunch.


WILKINS: We should all have taken a picnic out, on a day like this.

O’BRIEN: It’s a lot of bother, though, isn’t it? I’d rather just have a walk.

MCCREE: Have you asked Miss Grantham yet?

O’BRIEN: Asked me what?

MCCREE: Go on.

WILKINS: There’s really no need.

O’BRIEN: What is it you want to ask?

MCCREE: Her ladyship — our ladyship, that is — was very taken with Lady Grantham’s hair last night. She asked if you’d show Miss Wilkins how to do it.

WILKINS: I know how to do it. I just didn’t know she liked that style. I’d have thought it was too old-fashioned.

O’BRIEN: Old-fashioned?

WILKINS: Well, shall we say ‘traditional’?

O’BRIEN: You’d better not say old-fashioned.50

MOLESLEY: It’s rather flattering to think we’re causing a stir with our up-to-the-minute ways. If you need any tips from me, you have only to ask.

MCCREE: We won’t want anything from you, Mr Molesley. Mr Bolt can manage very well without any help from you.




A pony, laden with a stag, leads the way. Nield carries the rifle. Some way behind, Robert is following with Shrimpie.


SHRIMPIE: Well, you managed that very well. When the time comes for me to go, I’ll ask them to send for you.

(Once again, there is a bitter undertone. Robert looks at him)

ROBERT: Is everything all right, Shrimpie? Ah, of course, impertinent to ask.

SHRIMPIE: No, it’s not all right. But what’s the point in talking about it when there’s nothing to be done?

(Shrimpie has stopped and hands Robert his hipflask)

ROBERT: I’m not so sure these days. The Marlboroughs have got a divorce, and you still see them around.

SHRIMPIE: But Sunny Marlborough has no official post. He hasn’t been in office since the end of the war.

ROBERT: While you must have Susan next to you under the tropical sun?

SHRIMPIE: She’ll do it well. She’s born to grace a ballroom and she could teach diplomacy to experts.


SHRIMPIE: We don’t like each other.

(He has said enough. He walks on briskly)




Several servants are in here. Mrs Hughes is pinning pieces of a tissue pattern over some cloth, ready to be cut out.


DAISY: Is it for the outing tomorrow?

MRS HUGHES: I’m not that quick with a needle.

(But the room has fallen silent. Branson has entered)

MRS HUGHES: How can I help, Mr Branson?

(The others stand but Edna does not, which Mrs Hughes sees)

BRANSON: I was thinking… It’s just…


BRANSON: I thought I’d come down for supper tonight. Catch up with your news.

(This is a surprise to all of them)

MRS HUGHES: If you’d like to, of course you’d be very welcome. We don’t eat late while the family’s away so dinner will be at about eight o’clock.

BRANSON: I’ll see you then.

(He smiles a little nervously and goes. Mrs Hughes looks at Edna)

DAISY: Well.

THOMAS: Fains I tell Mr Carson.

ALFRED: You’re looking very pleased with yourself, Edna.

(But Edna just smiles)




Two traps stand by and another two ponies wait, with huge baskets on either side, while footmen in their livery are setting up a picnic under a pavilion. Robert, Shrimpie and Nield walk down the hill towards a simple shelter with a table at its centre, laid with a cloth and all the glass and china necessary. It seems very out of place. Susan, Violet, Cora, Mary, Edith and Rose are there.


EDITH: How tiny the glens make one feel.

VIOLET: That is the thing about nature. There’s so much of it.

CORA: Must be lovely to be queen of such a kingdom.

SUSAN: You’re right. We’re very lucky in this.

(She looks up. Shrimpie and Robert are walking towards them)

SUSAN: Goodness. We weren’t expecting male company for our feasting.

SHRIMPIE: I’m sorry to disappoint you.

(This is unfair to Susan, who had only spoken the truth)

EDITH: How did you get on?

SHRIMPIE: Very well. Not too long a trail and death by a single shot at the end of it. Nield is cock-a-hoop.

MARY: Well done, Papa. Your reward will be to join the ladies’ lunch.

ROBERT: An added bonus. I hope it’s venison.

ROSE: Quite right. We ought to eat what we kill.

SUSAN: Rose, stop talking nonsense and tell McCree to lay two more places.




Matthew and Gregson walk together at dusk. Two ponies are behind them, with two ghillies, but no dead stag. Gregson carries his sketching block and a shoulder bag.


MATTHEW: Ten hours crawling through heather and nothing to show for it. Perhaps it’s a parable of life.

GREGSON: It reminds me of the trenches, rather. Hours of inching through mud with no discernible purpose.

MATTHEW: Why don’t you come fly fishing tomorrow? We might see a bit more activity. You could bring your evening clothes and change at Duneagle.

GREGSON: It’s rather an imposition.

MATTHEW: But that’s what you’re here for, isn’t it? To get to know us all… Besides, you didn’t bring your tails all the way to Scotland to dine in a country pub.

GREGSON: No. I suppose not.




O’Brien comes out of a door. Wilkins is waiting.


WILKINS: Have you got a minute? Because if you haven’t, it’s perfectly fine.

O’BRIEN: A minute for what?

WILKINS: Her ladyship would like a word.

O’BRIEN: Why? What does she want with me?

WILKINS: Well, what do you think? She wants to make a fuss, like she always does.

(All this is whispered. She reaches a door and opens it)




Susan is sitting before her glass. She greets O’Brien.


SUSAN: This is so kind of you…

O’BRIEN: O’Brien, m’lady.

SUSAN: O’Brien. It’s just that Wilkins here isn’t quite able to understand what I’m getting at when I’m describing the shape of Lady Grantham’s hair.

WILKINS: I understand, m’lady, it’s just…

SUSAN: Could you help her? You’ll know exactly what I mean.

O’BRIEN: Er, well… It’s a question of body, m’lady. You need more volume to begin, before you sculpt it, so to speak.

SUSAN: I knew you’d have the answer.

O’BRIEN: If I could…

SUSAN: Oh, please, please, please. Wilkins, pay close attention to what she’s doing.

WILKINS: Yes, your ladyship.

(But she looks daggers at the visiting maid)




It is before dinner. Everyone is there around the fire. Shrimpie is with Robert and Violet.


ROBERT: Bombay? That sounds rather modest for a marquess.

VIOLET: Well, no. Not if it’s a step towards the Viceroy’s crown.

SHRIMPIE: I don’t know about that. All I do know is that it’s going to be very hot.

VIOLET: And all the costumes of imperial rule are always so peculiarly unsuited to the climate. Will you take Rose?

SHRIMPIE: I don’t think we should but… Susan won’t discuss it.

VIOLET: Unless you want her married to a thirdrate colonial official with no money and bad teeth, Susan had better think again.


Mary, Edith and Matthew are together.


MATTHEW: Just as he stood, a gust of wind comes into the corrie from behind us. A hind got our scent and they were away.

MARY: Really, darling, it’s boring enough to hear about when you succeed.

EDITH: What did you think of Michael?

MATTHEW: Well, he seems like a nice chap. We’re going fishing tomorrow.

EDITH: He’s had such a lot to put up with.

MARY: Oh, God, not one of your hard-luck cases, is he?

EDITH: Why must you sound so heartless?


Rose is sitting with Cora.


ROSE: Actually, I think India would be fascinating, but I know that Mummy and I will drive each other mad.

(Behind them, Susan has heard this. She continues to listen)

CORA: You mustn’t be too hard on your mother. You know it’s natural for her to be concerned.

ROSE: Concerned? Is that what she is?

CORA: I’m sure she loves you very much.

SUSAN: What’s this?

(She has made her presence known)

CORA: Rose was just saying how nice your hair looks tonight.

MCCREE: Dinner is served, your ladyship.




Mrs Hughes is faced by an irate Carson.


CARSON: He’s what?

MRS HUGHES: It’s only meant to be friendly.

(There is a knock at the door)

BRANSON: Good evening, Mr Carson. I don’t expect you to approve.

(He is standing in the passage. Carson does not answer, so Mrs Hughes speaks up)

MRS HUGHES: As long as you don’t tell tales upstairs.

BRANSON: That goes for me, too.

MRS HUGHES: Good. Well, now, come along in.

(Branson starts down the passage, but Mrs Hughes turns back to Carson)

MRS HUGHES: I hope you won’t show an example of rudeness to the younger staff.

(Carson’s face is a picture of resignation as he follows)




Isobel is with Doctor Clarkson.


CLARKSON: I was hoping to catch you.

ISOBEL: What about a glass of something?

CLARKSON: No, I won’t stay, but I’ve had an idea. I saw Mrs Hughes in the village today and she told me the servants have got up a party for the Thirsk fair. And, erm, I was wondering if you’d like to go.

ISOBEL: What? With the servants?

CLARKSON: No, of course not, but I could drive us over for an hour or two… I’m told they do it well.

ISOBEL: Why not? It might be fun.

CLARKSON: Good. I’ll come for you at five.




Branson is in their midst as they eat. The girls are talking about what they will wear to the fair.


BRANSON: I’ll keep an eye on the place.

EDNA: Oh, don’t say you’re not coming! I thought you could drive us in the wagonette.

MRS HUGHES: There is no need for impertinence, Edna, thank you.

BRANSON: You’re all right. I’m happy to drive them. But who’ll stay here?

CARSON: I will.

ALFRED: You don’t want to come to the fair?

CARSON: I would sooner chew broken glass.

(But his look at Mrs Hughes reminds us of the real reason)




Anna is with Mary, who is dressed for bed.


ANNA: It was lovely, m’lady. But what about you? Did you enjoy your day?

MARY: I was stupid to go to the picnic. We were shaken about in that trap like dice in a cup.

ANNA: Stay in bed for the morning and take it easy at the ball.

MARY: Are you looking forward to it?

ANNA: I am rather. I’ve been planning a bit of a surprise for Mr Bates.

MARY: Why? What sort of surprise?

ANNA: No. It’s a surprise for you, too. Don’t forget what I said.

MARY: I won’t.


Matthew enters in his dressing gown as Anna leaves.


MATTHEW: What was that?

MARY: Just that I’ve promised to rest tomorrow, which is annoying because I’d rather come out with you and interrogate Mr Gregson. Is he going to propose?

MATTHEW: I think so. But he’s quite opaque.

MARY: A man of mystery? Edith could use some of that.

MATTHEW: You are horrid when you want to be.

MARY: I know. But you love me, don’t you?


(He is in bed by now, and he pulls her into his arms and kisses her, before turning to his book)




Rose is with Anna. They are reeling, with Rose humming.


ANNA: So. Let me do it. One last time.

ROSE: You’ve got it now.

ANNA: The man on my left first.

(She demonstrates the move)

ROSE: And then the man on your right… And then round in a figure of eight.

(Rose’s clapping and singing becomes louder and more frantic before the two fall about laughing)




Alfred is with Jimmy, collecting the silver.


ALFRED: You take it easy with Mr Barrow today. I don’t mean crawl all over him, but don’t spoil things.

JIMMY: You’re a fine one to talk. Who rang the police in the first place? Oh, sod this. I’m bushed.

(He puts the silver on a tray and sits down in a chair, putting his feet up on a stool)

ALFRED: Suppose someone comes in?

JIMMY: They’ll find a man sitting in an armchair. They’ll survive it.

(Alfred gets his nerve up and sits, but more stiffly)

ALFRED: The funny thing with Mr Barrow is he won’t hear a bad word about you.

JIMMY: Why? What have I done?

ALFRED: I only meant he won’t let anyone speak against you.

MRS HUGHES: What on earth is going on here?

(Alfred jumps to his feet. Jimmy gets up more slowly)

ALFRED: We were just…

MRS HUGHES: You were just taking advantage of the cat’s absence. We’ll see what Mr Carson has to say.

BRANSON: Mrs Hughes?

MRS HUGHES: Mr Branson.


He is there. She walks with him out into the hall. Some maids, including Edna, are cleaning in different parts of the room.


BRANSON: What time are we leaving?

MRS HUGHES: About half past four, but Mr Stark can easily drive us.

BRANSON: Because I’m so high and mighty?

MRS HUGHES: You’re part of the family now. There’s nothing false in that.

BRANSON: I know.

MRS HUGHES: I hope you do. Because if someone is trying to make you feel awkward, they’re in the wrong, not you.

BRANSON: I’ll be there at half past four.

(He goes. Mrs Hughes glances at Edna, who is smiling)




There are stalls and a merry-go-round and a brass band. Mrs Patmore is with Mrs Hughes.


MRS PATMORE: I said I’d meet him at his stall.

MRS HUGHES: What’s that?

(She points at a package Mrs Patmore is carrying)

MRS PATMORE: Oh. He asked me to bring sandwiches.

ALFRED: Oh, can I come? I want to find out where the best food stalls are.

MRS HUGHES: Why don’t we all go?

(They have stopped by a poster for a tug-of-war contest. The slogan is ‘Beat the Champions! Cash Prizes to Win!’)

JIMMY: Here’s something for us. Alfred? Mr Branson? Let’s give it a go.

BRANSON: I don’t mind.


MRS HUGHES: Go on. I’ll find out where your spice stall is.

ALFRED: What about you?

(He has addressed this to Thomas, but Jimmy sniggers)

JIMMY: Isn’t it a bit rough for Mr Barrow?

THOMAS: Oh, I think I could manage.

(The men start to walk off, as Edna spots her moment)

EDNA: I’ll come cheer you on, if that’s all right.

(She puts her arm through Branson’s. Daisy watches them go)

DAISY: Wait till Mrs Hughes sees that.

IVY: Come on. I don’t care about any tug-of-war. Let’s go find some games.

DAISY: You do know they’re all fixed?

IVY: I don’t think they are.

DAISY: They must have seen you coming.




Jos Tufton is delighted to welcome his visitors. He has equipped them with a glass of punch.


TUFTON: Come on, ladies. Drink up, drink up. We can go and join in the fun then…

MRS PATMORE: Well, what about your stall?

TUFTON: Don’t worry about that. Lucy can look after the stall, can’t you, Lucy?

(Tufton walks behind Lucy, an attractive young woman, who flinches and squeals as he walks by. Mrs Hughes is not impressed)

TUFTON: I hope you don’t mind my saying so, Mrs Patmore, but in that blouse you look as though you’ve stepped off the pages of Vogue.

MRS PATMORE: I don’t mind. I don’t believe you, but I don’t mind your saying it at all. Eh, Mrs Hughes?

MRS HUGHES: You’re generous with compliments.

TUFTON: I love to be in love, Mrs Hughes. I’ll not deny it. Any time, any place. I love to be in love.

MRS PATMORE: Get away with you, you daft beggar!

MRS HUGHES: I must go and find Alfred and tell him where to look for the spice stall. If you don’t mind my leaving you?

MRS PATMORE: No, I don’t mind that, either.




The tug-of-war is under way. A team of thugs is about to pull against the Downton team. A selfappointed judge is in charge.


JUDGE: Any side bets? Before we begin?

FIRST MAN: Who’d bet on them?

(Jimmy speaks up)

JIMMY: What odds would you give us?

JUDGE: Ten to one.

JIMMY: Right. A quid on the Downton team.

(This is greeted by a laugh. He produces a one-pound note and hands it over)

JUDGE: Any more?

ALFRED: That’s enough money down the drain.

JUDGE: Ready?

JIMMY: One moment.

(He hails Tufton and Mrs Patmore who have just arrived)

JIMMY: Mr Tufton! You’ll join our team, won’t you? As a Downton supplier?

TUFTON: If you want us, lad, aye.

(He hands his jacket to Mrs Patmore. The other team are irritated by his arrival. Alfred whispers to Jimmy)

ALFRED: Had you already seen him when you made the bet?

JIMMY: What do you think?

(Tufton also hands his hat to Mrs Patmore)

TUFTON: If you’d be so kind.

(Then he jogs down the line of the Downton team)

TUFTON: Tufton’s at your service.

(He approaches a couple of young ladies in the crowd.

TUFTON: Good afternoon, ladies. They needed a bit of muscle so they sent for Tufton.

(The ladies are quite amused as he flexes his bicep)

TUFTON: Go on, feel that muscle.

(They oblige, still giggling)

LADIES: Very strong!

TUFTON: That’s my name, Jos Tufton. You see that stall over there with the spices on?

LADIES: Oh, yeah.

(Mrs Hughes watches this scene with some interest)

TUFTON: That’s me. If you want a bit of spice in your life, send for Tufton.

ALFRED: Mr Tufton, come on!

TUFTON: I’m coming.

JUDGE: Gentlemen, take the strain…

(The Downton team, with Tufton at the rear, still chuntering away, get ready)

JUDGE: Pull!




Matthew and Gregson are fishing. But they have been distracted by their conversation.


GREGSON: Of course it’s a lot to ask, but what else can I do? I’m prevented from divorcing a woman who doesn’t even know who I am. Does the law expect me to have no life at all, until I die? Would Lord Grantham?

MATTHEW: I’m sure my father-in-law would be the first to understand that you have to make some sort of life for yourself, beyond the pale. I do.

GREGSON: Well, then.

MATTHEW: You can’t expect him to want you to involve his own daughter! Not when all you have to offer is a job as your mistress.

GREGSON: No. I love her. I’m offering my love.

MATTHEW: You’ve been misled by our surroundings. We’re not in a novel by Walter Scott.




Mrs Hughes has reached the tug-of-war. As she arrives, something catches her eye in the crowd. Her attention is drawn back to Mrs Patmore, who calls encouragement, wildly.


MRS HUGHES: Mrs Patmore…

MRS PATMORE: Don’t tell me to calm down.

MRS HUGHES: Should I not?

MRS PATMORE: No. Because I can’t remember having a better time than this!

(Each team is straining and the crowd is shouting encouragement. The judge is in the ear of the leader of the opposing team)

JUDGE: Pull it. Pull the rope!

(But with a shout the other team falls. The judge raises his hand)

JUDGE: I declare the Downton team the winner! Have a drink, lads!


A tray of beer is brought forward as the judge pulls out a wad of notes and gives them to Jimmy. The judge and the other team do not look amused.

BRANSON: Well done, Jimmy.

(He shakes his hand)

JIMMY: Thank you, Mr Branson.




Matthew is amazed by what he has been listening to.


GREGSON: So the laws of Society should be preserved, no matter what? Edith gave me the impression you were a freer soul than that.

MATTHEW: I find that hard to believe. I agree, your position is tragic, and I’m very sorry. But you can’t imagine I would let Edith slide into a life of scandal without lifting a finger to stop her.

GREGSON: Will you tell Lord Grantham?

MATTHEW: I’m not going to tell anyone. But you must see it’s quite hopeless.

GREGSON: Are you saying I should leave now? And not stay for the ball?

MATTHEW: No. Use it to say a proper goodbye. You owe her that.

GREGSON: It’s odd the way we’re punished for things, when we’re not to blame.

MATTHEW: But we also get rewards we don’t deserve. It’s called luck. And I’m afraid you’ve had rotten luck.

GREGSON: More than you, I suspect.

MATTHEW: Perhaps, touch wood, but you never know what’s coming.




Mrs Patmore is on the swings with Tufton. Branson and Edna ride the merry-go-round as Mrs Hughes looks on. Jimmy is throwing his money around at the bar, while Ivy and Daisy are walking through the stalls.


DAISY: Look at all these people wasting their hard-earned cash.

IVY: But what’s it for, if it’s not to have a bit of fun?

(They’ve stopped by a stall proclaiming ‘Win a Golden Sovereign!’ Squares of wood hold prizes and at the top is a sovereign on its own base. A man carries the wooden rings)

IVY: How much is it?

STALL KEEPER: Hook yourselves a fortune, ladies. Thruppence for three.

DAISY: Thruppence? Never in this world!

STALL KEEPER: Look at the prizes, eh? Not fairground rubbish here, you know. When did you last see a gold sovereign?

DAISY: When did you last win one?

JIMMY: What’s the matter?

(He has turned up by their side)

IVY: I want a go but Daisy thinks it’s too expensive.

JIMMY: Ah, have it on me.

(He pulls out the wad of his winnings, takes a sixpence and hands it over)

JIMMY: One go for each of them.

DAISY: Are you drunk?

JIMMY: ‘Ah, thank you, Jimmy. How kind of you.’

IVY: It is kind. Thanks very much.

DAISY: Don’t flash your money about.

JIMMY: It’s my money, won fair and square. I’ll do what I want with it.

STALL KEEPER: Remember, the ring must go over the base and lie flat.

(Jimmy goes, colliding with someone as he walks away)


(Ivy has failed and so Daisy starts to throw)

DAISY: I don’t believe it!

(She has won the sovereign)

DAISY: I’ve never won nothing before!

STALL KEEPER: Don’t let it make a gambler of you.

(She takes her prize eagerly)

IVY: See. I told you they were honest.

(They move off. The keeper’s mood darkens for his assistant)

STALL KEEPER: Didn’t I say to make the blocks too wide for the bally rings!


Mrs Hughes and Alfred are at the food stall.


ALFRED: Thanks for not telling Mr Carson about us sitting down in the drawing room. We’d not be here now.

MRS HUGHES: Don’t let me catch you again. Oh, there’s Mrs Crawley with Doctor Clarkson.

(Sure enough, Clarkson and Isobel are there)

ALFRED: This is where I belong. I know it.

MRS HUGHES: What? At a fairground stall?

ALFRED: No. Working with food. Cooking. Preparing. It’s what I love.

MRS HUGHES: Don’t sound so tragic. Your time at Downton won’t be wasted. You know how a great house runs now. That’ll come in handy.

(Just then she is distracted by Tufton flirting with another woman. She looks worried)

ALFRED: What’s the matter? What have you found now?

MRS HUGHES: Nothing. Mr Tufton.

ALFRED: What about him?


But she doesn’t answer. Isobel is chatting to Clarkson.


ISOBEL: Well, that was great fun, with the music and everything. I’m glad we came.

CLARKSON: I’m very glad you came.

ISOBEL: Shall we sit down for a bit?

CLARKSON: Let me fetch you a drink… I’ve got something I want to ask you. Punch?

ISOBEL: That would be lovely.


Jos Tufton is bringing a glass of wine to Mrs Patmore.


TUFTON: You wouldn’t miss service.

MRS PATMORE: I’ve not been unhappy, you know. I can’t pretend I have.

TUFTON: But taking orders from a husband, it’s got to be better than taking them from some jumped-up lord or lady.

MRS PATMORE: Hmm. It’s still orders, isn’t it? Wait a minute. Is that you, James?

(Jimmy does not hear her. He is really drunk as he walks by, picking up another tankard of beer. Tufton is tucking into the sandwiches)

TUFTON: Did you make this pâté as well?

MRS PATMORE: All with my own fair hand.

TUFTON: Well, fair hand or red flipper, you’re the cook for me.


Jimmy walks down an alley under a bridge. An opposing team member steps out.


FIRST MAN: Where d’you think you’re going, m’laddo?

JIMMY: Get out of my way!

(But the man does not move. Instead he pushes Jimmy back. Another man appears)

FIRST MAN: Take him!

(The second man seizes Jimmy)

THOMAS: Let him go!

(He also appears to have come from nowhere. He stands there)

FIRST MAN: And who’s going to make me?


(Catching them out, he launches a punch not at the first, but at the second tough who holds Jimmy. Taken by surprise, he releases Jimmy. Thomas shouts as the first man grabs him)

THOMAS: I mean it, Jimmy! Run! Run!


Jimmy does run, leaving Thomas to his fate. The first man holds his arms, and the second lays in with a vengeance. Back by the wine stall, Clarkson drains a glass for courage, and then takes two more to where Isobel is sitting.



ISOBEL: Thank you.

CLARKSON: I’m so sorry. The queue was a mile long.

ISOBEL: What was it you wanted to ask me?

CLARKSON: Ah. Well, I’m not sure I have the right…

ISOBEL: If you’d like me to come back to the hospital, I was thinking…

CLARKSON: No, it’s not the hospital… I’d be interested to know if you’ve ever thought of marrying again?

(Suddenly everything is clear)

ISOBEL: Are you thinking of getting married, Doctor Clarkson? Because if you are, you’re a better man than I am, Gunga Din.


ISOBEL: Well, with good friends like you, I enjoy my life as it is and I wouldn’t want to risk things by changing it.

(Before Clarkson can reply, Jimmy, who has barged through the crowd, runs up)

JIMMY: Doctor! Doctor! You’ve got to come now!

(His tone brings Isobel and Clarkson sharply to their feet)

CLARKSON: What is it?

JIMMY: It’s Thomas, please!




Rose is arguing with her mother.


SUSAN: Rose, you are not wearing that dress and that is final. You are not a street girl from a slum.

(Shrimpie, in Highland dress, arrives with Violet)

ROSE: Oh, Daddy, please stick up for me!

SUSAN: She looks like a slut.

VIOLET: Heavens. That’s not a word you often hear among the heather.

ROSE: But Princess Mary has one just like it! It’s the fashion now!

SUSAN: Then it is a mad fashion. Aunt Violet, tell her.

VIOLET: Oh, my dear, in my time I wore the crinoline, the bustle and the leg-of-mutton sleeve. I’m not in a strong position to criticise.

SHRIMPIE: Rose, take Aunt Violet through to the ballroom. Now.

VIOLET: Do you know, Rose, dear, the first Ghillies’ Ball I ever attended was at Balmoral… in 1860. Yes, I’d not long been married, and I confess I was a little alarmed because all the men were as tight as ticks, but the amusing thing was that the Queen resolutely refused to notice…


During this speech Rose has walked off down the passage with Violet, leaving Shrimpie and Susan alone.


SUSAN: Don’t blame me if she is the object of ridicule.

SHRIMPIE: I won’t. Whatever else I might blame you for.

SUSAN: You are a fool to indulge her. Have you never stopped…

SHRIMPIE: No, you stop! Stop making everyone so unhappy all the bloody time!

(Her eyes look beyond him. Now Robert stands there, in tails)

ROBERT: I’m just on my way down. Forgive me. I think I know where I’m going.

SHRIMPIE: I’ll come with you.

(The two men walk away, leaving Susan alone)




Thomas has been badly beaten. He is a mess, with his face bruised and bleeding. Branson, Edna, Mrs Hughes, Jimmy and Alfred hover as Clarkson and Isobel tend to him.


MRS HUGHES: Thank God I saw you, Doctor.

ISOBEL: Is there any chance of apprehending these men?

ALFRED: Not really.

MRS HUGHES: But why did you get into a fight? It’s not like you.

(Thomas glances at Jimmy but says nothing)

BRANSON: What have they taken?

THOMAS: Every penny I had, but it weren’t much.

MRS HUGHES: Is there anything broken?

CLARKSON: I don’t think so.

JIMMY: So he’ll be all right?

ISOBEL: We ought to get him home.

BRANSON: I’ll fetch the wagonette. Can you make it back to the road?

ALFRED: I’ll help him.

(Clarkson and Alfred lift Thomas to his feet. He is in severe pain)

ALFRED (CONT’D): Lean on me.

(Watched by a troubled Jimmy, the group staggers off)




Carson is walking along when he hears the sound of crying. He pushes the door open and goes in. The child is weeping.


CARSON: Hello? What’s the matter with you, eh? Where’s your nanny?

(The child continues to cry and he lifts her out of the crib)

CARSON: Let’s have a little chat about it.

(And he rocks her gently in his arms)




A band plays and the reeling has begun. The party is lively but not out of control. Anna is with Bates, Mary and Matthew.


MARY: Oh, we must all join in.

BATES: Not me, m’lady. And I have a cast-iron alibi.

MATTHEW: I can manage an eightsome and the Dashing White Sergeant but that’s about it.

MARY: Well, I’m very good. Hamilton House is my favourite but I know most of them. Our dancing master was a Scot for this very reason.

MATTHEW: But you won’t be doing any tonight.

MARY: Spoilsport.

ANNA: I think Mr Crawley’s right, m’lady.

MATTHEW: Will you be staying out of it?

ANNA: We’ll have to see.


Molesley is putting on quite a show. O’Brien approaches Susan and Wilkins.


SUSAN: O’Brien. Wilkins has been trying her best to imitate you. What do you think?

O’BRIEN: It looks very nice, your ladyship.

SUSAN: Yes, well, it’s not right yet, but we’re trying our best. Aren’t we, Wilkins?

(She drifts away, leaving Wilkins almost too angry to speak)

O’BRIEN: I might go find a drink.

WILKINS: I’ll fetch you one.

O’BRIEN: There’s no need. I’ll go.

WILKINS: No. I insist. You’re the guest.


She moves off towards a drinks table where the punch is being ladled out. Violet and Rose are with Cora as Rose takes a passing glass, having just finished her previous one.


CORA: You must be careful. Matthew says it’s rather strong.

ROSE: I should jolly well hope so.

(She gulps it down. Cora looks at Violet)

VIOLET: Rose’s evening had a bumpy start. I’m afraid Susan isn’t herself.

ROSE: But she’s absolutely herself. That’s the problem.

(She walks off. Violet looks after her)

VIOLET: Poor souls. It’s bad enough parenting a child when you like each other.


Wilkins is at the drinks table. She takes a glass as she turns to Nield.


WILKINS: Can I trouble you for a drop of whisky, Mr Nield?

NIELD: Certainly, Miss Wilkins, but I’m surprised if it’s for you.

WILKINS: Oh, no. For a guest from the South.

(He gives her a bottle and turns away to talk to someone. Wilkins takes it and pours about four inches into the glass)




Mrs Hughes stops. Someone is singing ‘Rock-a-Bye Baby’. She pushes a half-open door and goes in. Carson is rocking the baby in his arms. Mrs Hughes watches him for a few moments. Then he turns.


CARSON: Ah, you’re back, then.

MRS HUGHES: We are, and we’ve a few stories to tell. But you’ve spent your day more productively, I see. Where’s Nanny?

CARSON: I’m not sure. She must have had some washing to do or something. But she’ll find us in a moment.

(He stares down at the now placid child in his arms)

CARSON: I was thinking about Lady Sybil, when she was this age.

MRS HUGHES: All we can do for her now is to cherish her bairn, and it’s lovely to watch you doing just that.

CARSON: Well, there’s no need to get sentimental, Mrs Hughes. Right, let’s get this one back to bed. Come on, shall we go look for Nanny?




Robert has joined Cora and his mother.


CORA: Where have you been?

ROBERT: Trying to calm Shrimpie. You missed some fun and games earlier.

CORA: So I gather.

ROBERT: How is Rose?

VIOLET: In need of rescue.

(She looks at Cora, but the latter shakes her head)

CORA: No. I know what you’re thinking, but I won’t do that to Susan.

(She moves away)

ROBERT: What was she talking about?

VIOLET: Never mind. Now, where is Shrimpie?

ROBERT: Hiding and licking his wounds. I’ll go in search of him in a bit, poor fellow, if he hasn’t come back.


Across the room, Wilkins arrives with the drink.


O’BRIEN: That’s very kind. Thank you.

(Wilkins leaves as O’Brien takes one sip, wrinkles her nose and puts the glass down. Molesley has joined her)

MOLESLEY: Don’t you want it?

O’BRIEN: No. I wouldn’t drink that if I were you, Mr…

(But Molesley has finished it off in one draught)

MOLESLEY: Oh, that slipped down a treat. Think I’ll get another one.

O’BRIEN: Each to his own.




Robert is with Shrimpie by the billiards table.


ROBERT: Shrimpie, I think you’ve got to come and show your face…

(Shrimpie is standing by the window with a gun in his hand)

ROBERT: For Christ’s sake, don’t!

(Shrimpie is puzzled until he notices the gun in his own hand)

SHRIMPIE: My dear fellow, it’s not what you think. There’s a fox who’s been giving us some trouble. But I don’t think he’s coming tonight.

(He places the gun on the desk, shaking his head)

SHRIMPIE: And don’t worry. I’d never do that to the children. I’m far too much of a coward.

ROBERT: You make me feel as if I’ve been blind. Was it always as bad?

SHRIMPIE: Not at the beginning. We weren’t madly in love, but there was a job to be done and we both believed in it. Then the children came along, and for years we hardly had time to think.

ROBERT: What went wrong?

SHRIMPIE: First James left and then Annabel got married, and we started to learn just how little we had in common.

ROBERT: Why is Susan so hard on Rose?

SHRIMPIE: Who knows? Perhaps Rose reminds her of me. As I used to be. Me, when I had something to live for.

ROBERT: Oh, you have a great deal to live for. Duneagle. I can’t remember being as envious as I have been these past few days.

SHRIMPIE: Don’t be. It’ll all have to go.


SHRIMPIE: It’s my own fault. If I’d had any gumption and modernised as you did… But I sat on my hands as the money drained away. Now it’s all gone.

ROBERT: What will you do?

SHRIMPIE: Go to India first and then London. Oh, it’ll be all right. What, with the club and the Lords, Susan and I needn’t see too much of each other.

ROBERT: Shrimpie, my dear chap, I’m so sorry.

SHRIMPIE: Question is: Rose. What are we going to do about Rose?

(Shrimpie rolls the ball he has been holding down the table)




The band strikes up. Rose runs over to Anna and Bates.


ROSE: Anna! Come on. This is it.

BATES: This is what?

ROSE: You’ll see!

(She pulls Anna to the circle of dancers. They start)

MARY: Look at Anna! She never said she could reel. Bates? Did you know?

BATES: No, m’lady. I never knew.

MARY: But isn’t she marvellous?

(It’s true. Anna is whirling round with the best of them. Bates looks at her, as she laughs and skips through the figures of the reel. He smiles)

BATES: Yes. She is marvellous.




Mrs Hughes is reading when Mrs Patmore arrives, carrying a tea tray with cups for two.


MRS HUGHES: Oh, Mrs Patmore, how kind of you.

MRS PATMORE: I want a word, so I thought we could have some tea while I get it.

(She shuts the door and pours out two cups, and she gives one to Mrs Hughes while she talks)

MRS PATMORE: You were right. He says he loves me and he can’t live without me.

MRS HUGHES: Oh, dear.

MRS PATMORE: What do you mean, ‘Oh, dear’? It’s a long time since anyone wanted to share my seat on the bus, never mind my heart and home.

MRS HUGHES: I don’t know how to say it.

MRS PATMORE: Find a way.

(They sit down)

MRS HUGHES: Well, I first noticed it when I was standing at the stall. He was flirting with that young assistant and stroking her… well… bottom.


MRS HUGHES: It’s true. Then I saw him making eyes at some other women when he was pulling in the tug-of-war.

MRS PATMORE: While I was cheering him?

MRS HUGHES: And later, when I was with Alfred, I saw Mr Tufton in the crowd, and he seemed to be chewing the mouth off some poor woman…

MRS PATMORE: Where was I all this time?

MRS HUGHES: I don’t know. Dreaming of a better life… Oh, Mrs Patmore, I am sorry. I don’t know if he wanted to eat a few dinners before he told you the truth, or if he planned to marry you and chain you to the stove…

MRS PATMORE: Either way, it was the cooking he was after. And not me.

MRS HUGHES: I feel terrible. I should’ve pulled you away then and there, but you were having such a good time.

(She covers her face with her hands and sits, silent)

MRS HUGHES: Is there anything I can do?

(Mrs Patmore shakes her head and we hear, ‘No.’ Then she removes her hands. She is grinning from ear to ear)

MRS PATMORE: Because I’ve never felt more relieved in all my life!


MRS PATMORE: The more he said about how he liked his beef roasted and his eggs fried and his pancakes flipped, the more I wondered how to get away.

MRS HUGHES: And what if he comes back?

MRS PATMORE: He’ll get a thick ear and no mistake. But how could he do such a thing, Mrs Hughes? How could he lead a poor woman on like that?

MRS HUGHES: You heard him, Mrs Patmore. Any time, any place. He loves to be in love.

(And the two of them burst into peals of laughter)




Robert is with Violet.


ROBERT: We ought to get it settled.

VIOLET: We’ll talk to her tomorrow.

ROBERT: The thing is, I believe it would do her good. To have someone like Rose to look after.

(Violet regards this dear simpleton of a son)

VIOLET: Now, why didn’t I think of that?


Edith is with Gregson.


EDITH: And that was really his reaction? How disappointing.

GREGSON: I wasn’t going to tell you until I was leaving.

EDITH: Why not?

GREGSON: Because I wanted us to have a last evening together.

EDITH: This is not our last evening.

GREGSON: Isn’t it?

EDITH: It’s odd. If you’d asked before tonight how I felt about you, I’m not sure what I would have answered, but now I’m absolutely sure. And this is not our last evening.


The couples form an eightsome and she leads Gregson onto the floor. As the dance starts, Mary is with Matthew. The ballroom is filled with a bloodcurdling cry.


MARY: What in God’s name —?


At the centre of a circle, Molesley has gone mad. He dances like a dervish, arms stretched above him, screaming and yelling, terrifying the maid opposite him. He swings her round like a cape. O’Brien is standing with Wilkins.


O’BRIEN: Are you proud of your handiwork? Seeing as he’s taken my punishment.

WILKINS: I don’t know what you mean.

O’BRIEN: Never mind, Miss Wilkins. It might do him good to let it all go for once. And I’m grateful. I am.

WILKINS: What for?

O’BRIEN: Because I need never be held back by any sense of loyalty to you.

(She walks off to speak to Susan Flintshire as Wilkins wonders if she’s been smart. Violet and Robert are watching Molesley)

ROBERT: They do say there’s a wild man inside all of us.

VIOLET: If only he would stay inside.




Branson is bare-chested, in pyjama trousers, when the door opens. It is Edna.


BRANSON: What in the…?

EDNA: I thought you’d like to know Mr Barrow is feeling much better.

BRANSON: Thank you, but you should go now.

EDNA: I just wanted to tell you what a lovely day I’ve had. Really lovely. Shall we meet for lunch tomorrow? In the Grantham Arms?

(Taking him unawares, she quickly kisses his mouth and hurries out. And now he sees what he has done)




Mary is finishing Hamilton House. She rubs her tummy, looking concerned, and returns to sit with Matthew.


MARY: I don’t think I should have done that, but I couldn’t resist.

MATTHEW: Which is just what I was afraid of…

MARY: Calm down. Everything’s fine, but I wonder would you mind terribly if I went home tomorrow?

MATTHEW: Of course not. I’ll tell Shrimpie tonight that we’re leaving and…

MARY: No, not you. You must stay here.

MATTHEW: What do you mean? I don’t want to let you out of my sight.

MARY: But if you come, Mama and Papa will think they have to leave, and the party will break up.

MATTHEW: So what? I’m coming with you.

MARY: But it’s very unfair on Susan and Shrimpie when I’m perfectly all right. It’s only a couple more days. Let me go, and I’ll see you when I see you. Please.

(She glances across the room to where Molesley has passed out)

MARY: Besides, Molesley may need a little time before he’s fit to travel.




Bates and Anna emerge from the ballroom.


ANNA: Let’s get away before we have to carry him upstairs.

(She is laughing, as Bates looks at her in wonder)

ANNA: Why are you being funny? You’re not angry with me, are you?

BATES: Angry? Good God, no.

ANNA: I hope I haven’t upset you, Mr MacBates. I thought the sight of me reeling would make you smile.

BATES: It does make me smile, but it also fills me with wonder.

ANNA: How so?

BATES: That an old peg-leg like me should find himself married to a creature made of quicksilver and light.


Anna is very moved by this. Rose comes down the stairs.


ROSE: Isn’t she terrific, Bates? She said you’d never believe she could do it.

BATES: She was wrong, m’lady.

(Anna looks up at him, a little concerned)

BATES: There’s nothing I don’t believe she could do. Nothing at all.

ROSE: Good. I shall have pleasure telling Mummy I’ve done something right.

(She goes into the ballroom)

ANNA: Oh, that reminds me. Lady Mary wants to leave in the morning, so I may not see you for a day or two.

BATES: Do you think I could sneak into the maids’ quarters tonight?

ANNA: I’m afraid not. But you know what my mother says?

BATES: No. What does your mother say?

ANNA: That it’s always nice to leave something for another time.

(She takes his face in her hands and kisses him. Behind them, the door opens and a wretched, green Molesley appears)

ANNA: Are you all right, Mr Molesley?

MOLESLEY: ‘All right’ is not the first phrase that springs to mind.

(He staggers upstairs, leaving the other two laughing)




Mrs Hughes is with Edna and some others when Carson looks in.


CARSON: That was Mr Bates on the telephone. Lady Mary and Anna are coming back today. They’re already on the train so we need to be prepared.

MRS HUGHES: Well, we’d better look sharp. Edna, air the room and make up the bed, while I go and talk to Mrs Patmore.

EDNA: Must I?

(This brings them up short, both Mrs Hughes and Carson)

CARSON: Why? Do you have you other plans, Edna?

EDNA: I said I’d meet Tom Branson for lunch in the village.

CARSON: Did you, indeed? ‘Tom’ Branson?

(But Mrs Hughes ushers Carson to the passage outside)

MRS HUGHES: Before you start, it may not be his fault.

CARSON: Whether it’s his fault or not, she has to go.

MRS HUGHES: Oh, yes. Of course she has to go. Will you tell him or will I?

CARSON: You’d better do it. I’d only be rude, which wouldn’t help anyone.




Cora sits in bed with a breakfast tray. There is a knock and Susan comes in. She is dressed.


SUSAN: You’ve heard about Mary?

CORA: I have. Her maid left a message with O’Brien. I hope you don’t think her rude. I know you haven’t always approved of Mary.

SUSAN: She’s having a baby. We all need a little leeway when it comes to our babies. And as for the other business, I’m not as harsh as I was. Rose is proving quite an education.

CORA: I can imagine.

SUSAN: Annabel was so straightforward. But I find myself worrying about Rose before I open my eyes for the morning. Do you think I’m being stupid?

CORA: Not at all. I understand better than anyone else here could.

(Cora is becoming aware that Susan has come to say something)

SUSAN: Shrimpie wants her to live at Downton while we’re in India.

CORA: I’ve told Robert I would never agree to that against your wishes.

SUSAN: I know. Thank you. It’s not often that I get support in this house. But I wonder now if he isn’t right and that we need a rest from one another. Apart from anything else, I can’t bring her out from Bombay. But would you be prepared for all that?

CORA: If you want me to be. And only if you want it. But what about you and Shrimpie?

SUSAN: Oh, we’ll soldier on. Our sort never accept defeat… Even if I wish we could.

(She walks to the door. Then she pauses)

SUSAN: Will you speak well of me to her? Not every day, but sometimes?

CORA: Of course I will. I promise.




Branson is with Mrs Hughes.


BRANSON: So I’ve spoiled things for her?

MRS HUGHES: I’m afraid the work would no longer satisfy her. I’ve seen it before. She’d unsettle the other maids.

BRANSON: I didn’t encourage her, you know.

MRS HUGHES: Maybe. But if I may say it, you didn’t discourage her, either.

BRANSON: Can I ask one thing? That you give her a decent reference. Please.

MRS HUGHES: I will. Though I don’t think she’s cut out to be a housemaid… Would you allow me to speak as I would have in the old days?

BRANSON: Go on, then.

MRS HUGHES: You let Edna make you ashamed of your new life, but you’ve done well and Lady Sybil would be so proud.

(At this, Branson’s eyes fill with tears. He shakes his head)

BRANSON: I can’t bear to be without her.

MRS HUGHES: You must bear it. And one day I hope — and so would she — you’ll find someone to bear it with you. But until then, be your own master and call your own tune.




Edna sits alone, attracting puzzled glances.




Mary is helped onto the platform by a guard. Anna and the chauffeur are supervising the removal of the luggage. Mary approaches.


ANNA: M’lady? Is something the matter?

MARY: I don’t want to alarm anyone, but would you leave the cases here for now and take me straight to the hospital?


ANNA: What?

MARY: Let Mrs Crawley know and get a message to Mr Crawley straight away.

(Mary and Anna exchange a look. They know what’s happening)




Matthew is lying, with Nield nearby, preparing to shoot a stag. A man rides up behind them. He shouts and a stag panics at the noise and runs.


HORSEMAN: Mr Crawley! Mr Crawley!

NIELD: What in God’s name —?

(The man gets off his horse and rushes towards them)




Carson is in a frenzy. Mrs Hughes and the others are there.


CARSON: Right. All change. The whole family is coming back tomorrow. And we must be ready to receive them.

DAISY: Is it because Lady Mary’s in the hospital?

CARSON: It is.

DAISY: Does that mean she’s in danger?

CARSON: No! It doesn’t mean any such thing!

(He storms out. Mrs Hughes takes over)

MRS HUGHES: Lady Mary will be perfectly fine, but we have to make allowances.

(She walks out into the passage. Edna is there with her case)

MRS HUGHES: Now, do you have everything?

EDNA: But what have I done wrong? I’m as good as Mr Branson and there was nothing improper, nothing at all.

MRS HUGHES: I’m sure. But there are rules to this way of life, Edna. And if you’re not prepared to live by them, then it’s not the right life for you.

(Edna picks up her bags and leaves)




Cora and O’Brien are packing.


O’BRIEN: I’ll leave this case open to finish off tomorrow, and I’ll tell them to come for the others now.

(As she goes out, she passes Robert)

ROBERT: It’s organised. We’ve got tickets for the first train in the morning. There isn’t one before then.

CORA: I just wish I was there with her.

(He watches her for a moment)

ROBERT: Shrimpie’s so happy you’ve taken pity on Rose. Thank you.

CORA: It was different when Susan asked me. But Rose won’t replace Sybil.

ROBERT: Of course not. No one will.

CORA: Because that’s what your mother believes.

(By way of answer, he takes her hand and kisses it)

ROBERT: I can’t wait to get home.

CORA: Aren’t you enjoying your Victorian idyll any longer?

ROBERT: I’m glad I was jealous of Shrimpie. It’s made me realise what a fool I’ve been. Downton will survive because of Matthew’s vision.

CORA: I’m so pleased to hear you say it.

ROBERT: You always knew how lucky we are in Matthew, and now I give thanks for him. As I give thanks for my home and my family, and most of all I give thanks for my wife.

(He takes her into his arms and kisses her)




A new day. Violet, Robert, Edith, Rose and Matthew are joined by Bates, O’Brien and Molesley, with luggage stowed into cars and onto the wagonette. Shrimpie, Susan and Cora stand by.


SHRIMPIE: Send us the news as soon as you know it. And thank you for taking in Rose.

SUSAN: We’ll make firm plans as soon as we know when we’re leaving.

CORA: I’m glad to have her now I know it’s what you both want.

(Cora walks towards the car, but Shrimpie follows her)

SHRIMPIE: What I want is for her to know that family can be a loving thing.

CORA: We’ll do our best.

SHRIMPIE: Love is like riding or speaking French. If you don’t learn it young, it’s hard to get the trick of it later.

CORA: Well said, Shrimpie. And good luck.


She smiles and joins Robert and Violet by a waiting car.


VIOLET: You’ve taken such a weight off their minds, my dear.

CORA: But you’re wrong, Mama. She won’t help me get over Sybil. For the simple reason I don’t want her to.

(She climbs into the car. Violet turns to Robert)

VIOLET: Why does Cora always think I have an ulterior motive?

ROBERT: Because she knows you.


Edith is with Matthew.


EDITH: What did you tell Mary about Michael Gregson?

MATTHEW: Nothing. But I hope he made it clear what has to happen.

EDITH: Oh, yes. We both know what happens next.

(They climb in, too. Rose runs up to Robert)

ROSE: I’ll see you at Downton very soon. And thank you both so much.

ROBERT: We look forward to it. Are we all ready, Bates?

BATES: We are, m’lord.

(As the servants climb aboard the wagonette, Susan catches O’Brien’s eye and nods. O’Brien nods back. The procession of vehicles heads off)




Carson is there. Anna is with him, in her coat.


ANNA: Mr Carson? I’m going down to the hospital. I think I have what she needs.

CARSON: If there’s anything else, anything at all, just telephone.

ANNA: According to the doctor, there’s nothing to worry about.

CARSON: Well, of course I worry. After Lady Sybil how could I not worry? Now, should I meet the others off the train?

ANNA: Get Mr Matthew’s car taken to the station and have the others brought here. Mr Matthew can drive himself to the hospital and come back with the news when he’s ready.

CARSON: Yes. Good, good. Very good. And Anna, thank you.

(He is so grateful that someone is thinking straight)




Mary sits up on her bed, looking troubled. A nurse pats her back and leaves. Clarkson and Isobel are in the passage.


CLARKSON: Would you help to prepare, while I make sure everything’s ready?

(Isobel moves towards the door)

CLARKSON: Erm… You saved me from making a fool of myself at the fair. I’m afraid I’d had too much to drink.

ISOBEL: I don’t know what you mean.

CLARKSON: Well, I think you do. And thank you.

(Isobel smiles and goes in to find Mary in bed)

MARY: I wish Matthew were here. It’s funny. I feel as if I’m only half myself without him.

ISOBEL: He’ll be on the train by now. And you won’t want him in the room till it’s all over. You can trust me.

MARY: It’s so strange. I must have known something, or why did I sense that I had to get home?

(Mary has another spasm)


(Isobel strokes her hand)

ISOBEL: It won’t be long now.

MARY: We must ring Carson. He’ll be in such a state.

ISOBEL: I will.

MARY: I shouldn’t have gone up North. All that bumping around in those carts. How could I be so stupid?

ISOBEL: My dear, the baby will be perfectly well. Slightly early, but not very. We’ll have to take a little extra care, that’s all.

(There is a knock. She looks up to see Clarkson in the doorway. He nods)




Thomas, black and blue, is in bed. Jimmy knocks and enters. For a moment they stare at each other.


THOMAS: What are you doing up here?

JIMMY: I just wanted to make sure there wasn’t too much harm done.

THOMAS: Well, there was enough harm done.

(He laughs rather painfully, and winces)

JIMMY: You were brave, Mr Barrow. Very brave. I feel badly. I… I shouldn’t have run off.

THOMAS: No, you should have. Otherwise, what was I bloody doing it for?

JIMMY: Were you following me?

THOMAS: I like to keep an eye out… I could see you’d had a bit to drink and so… Yes, yes, I did follow you.


THOMAS: You know why.

(Now they have come to the nub of it. Jimmy pulls up a chair)

JIMMY: I can never give you what you want.

THOMAS: I understand that. I do. And I don’t ask for it. But I’d like it if we could be friends.

(This is both a surprise and a relief to Jimmy)

JIMMY: Right you are, Mr Barrow. If that’s all, I think I could manage that.

THOMAS: Thank you, Jimmy. Thank you. Now make yourself useful…

(Thomas hands him the paper to read to him, and they chat warmly)




Carson is on the telephone.


CARSON: Thank you. Thank you very much. Thank you very much indeed.

(He hangs up and looks overwhelmed)




Mrs Hughes is with Mrs Patmore when Carson looks in.


CARSON: That was Mrs Crawley. It’s over. Lady Mary’s very tired but she’s come through it. They both have.

MRS PATMORE: Thank the Lord.

MRS HUGHES: And what about the baby?

CARSON: What about it?

MRS HUGHES: What sex is it?

CARSON: I never thought to ask.

(He ducks away and hurries off)





Mary holds the baby.


MATTHEW: Can this hot and dusty traveller come in?

(Anna leaves as Matthew sits on the bed)

MARY: Say hello to your son and heir.

(He takes the baby)

MATTHEW: Hello, my dearest little chap… I wonder if he has any idea how much joy he brings with him?

(He takes his wife gently by the shoulders)

MATTHEW: My darling, how are you? Really?

MARY: Tired. And pretty relieved. But just think. We’ve done our duty. Downton is safe. Papa must be dancing a jig.

MATTHEW: I’m dancing a jig. I feel like I’ve swallowed a box of fireworks.

(She strokes his hair, as he looks at her in wonder)

MATTHEW: You are going to be such a wonderful mother.

MARY: How do you know?

MATTHEW: Because… Because you’re such a wonderful woman.

MARY: I hope I’m allowed to be your Mary Crawley for all eternity, and not Edith’s version, or anyone else’s for that matter.

MATTHEW: You’ll be my Mary, always, because mine is the true Mary. Do you ever wonder how happy you’ve made me?

MARY: You sound rather foreign. Shouldn’t you be saying things like, ‘You’ll be up and about in no time’?

MATTHEW: I’ll do all that tomorrow, but right now I want to tell you that I fall more in love with you every day that passes.

MARY: I’ll remind you of that next time I scratch the car.

MATTHEW: Do. I give you full permission.

MARY: Where are the others?

MATTHEW: Back at the house, panting to see you, to see you both but I’ve sent Mother to keep them at bay. I wanted the chance to be alone with my family.

MARY: You’d better go and tell them I’m still alive. But first, I think I’ve earned a decent kiss.

MATTHEW: You certainly, certainly have.

(They kiss)




Edith is with Branson. They are chatting. Branson has Sybbie in his arms.


EDITH: First Sybbie, now her little cousin. It’s rather wonderful the ways that families just keep unrolling.

BRANSON: But did you have a good time?

EDITH: I did. Very good, in a way. How about you?

BRANSON: I’ve been on a bit of a learning curve, as it happens.

EDITH: Me, too. And it isn’t over yet.


Isobel is talking to Robert.


ISOBEL: These things are always rather nerveracking. But all’s well that ends well, and it won’t be long before you’ll be able to say hello to your very own grandson.

ROBERT: My grandson? Oh, my dear, how sweet and miraculous that sounds!

CORA: Our grandson. And, yes, it does sound miraculous.




Matthew, as happy as a man can be, drives along at a lick.




ROBERT: Life is strange, isn’t it?

VIOLET: In so many different ways.

ROBERT: No, I mean, I think of all the uncertainty between Matthew and Mary, or when the money was lost, and everything was so dark.




Matthew continues driving at speed.


ROBERT (V.O.): Yet now, here we are, with two healthy heirs…


Matthew hums a tune as he drives over the hill and taps his hands on his steering wheel in time, looking to the heavens. A huge lorry, also travelling at speed, is coming the other way.


ROBERT (V.O.): … an estate in good order, and I wonder what I’ve done to deserve it.

(The lorry seems to fill the road ahead)




VIOLET: I agree. But then we don’t always get our just deserts.




Skid marks on the road lead to a row of broken sycamores and the overturned wreck of the roadster. The driver, badly shaken, gets out of the cab and runs towards the crashed car. He stops at the sight of Matthew lying, broken and bleeding, under the vehicle. He is quite, quite dead.




Mary sits, in a pretty bed jacket, holding the baby, flowers beside her. Anna finishes tidying the sheet.


ANNA: You look lovely, m’lady. Motherhood on a monument.

MARY: You’d better go down. They’ll be here in a minute. And tell Mr Matthew he must wait his turn…




Matthew lies dead, with blood trickling down his cheek.


MARY (V.O.): He’s seen the baby and they haven’t.




Anna has left. How charming Mary looks with the child. And how happy.


End of the episode.

Ecrit par Stella,
basé sur le script officiel

Kikavu ?

Au total, 74 membres ont visionné cet épisode ! Ci-dessous les derniers à l'avoir vu...

21.05.2022 vers 21h

02.03.2022 vers 12h

11.01.2022 vers 16h

01.12.2021 vers 17h

16.10.2021 vers 16h

30.03.2021 vers 13h

Derniers commentaires

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stella  (20.05.2019 à 23:10)

Ah c'est plus la réaction que j'espérais. ^^ La fin est vraiment triste. :/

cartegold  (20.05.2019 à 08:50)

Bon ok j'ai vu la seconde partie de l'épisode je retire ce que j'ai écrit auparavant !!!!!!!

OMG je ne m'y attendais pas du tout !!!! Je m'attendais à une toute autre chose !!!!

stella  (08.05.2019 à 19:22)

Oui j'avoue qu'ils gèrent pas sur ce coup là. Ils pourraient diffuser l'épisode en entier le même soir.

cartegold  (07.05.2019 à 13:50)

Ah à chaque fois j'oublie ce détail !!!! Dommage que les dates de diffusion ne soient pas calculées pour passer l'épisode scindé en deux le même soir !

stella  (06.05.2019 à 13:40)

Rappelles toi que l'épisode est coupé en 2 pour la télévision.

C'est vrai que le début est longuet. La famille arrive en écosse, les domestiques s'ennuient. Ca met en place pour la fin de l'épisode.

cartegold  (06.05.2019 à 10:03)

Comme le précédent, cet épisode ne m'a pas emballé. Je m'attendais à mieux pour un season final !


Merci aux 2 rédacteurs qui ont contribué à la rédaction de cette fiche épisode

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