Mrs Brown Page #5

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- What the hell are you doing?

- I'm getting dressed.

- You've got three broken ribs.

- I've got my duties to attend to.

Don't be an idiot. You're in

no fit state to go anywhere.

- She'll be worried about me.

- She'll get over it.

[Grunting]

I can't let her down now, Archie.

And when was the last time she put

herself out for you?

Look, John, whatever

she says to you now,

in the end,

you're a servant.

I am much more than that.

She may say that to you, but the woman

can say what she wants, can't she?

- Just watch your tongue!

- Come on, man.

I'm tellin' you

what you already know.

- You know nothing about her.

- When are you gonna see it, John?

She doesn't give

a damn about you!

From the Queen.

"My lips me give a message better

of Christmas love...

"than e'en this letter.

To my best friend, J.B.

From his best friend, V.R."

Best friend!

- Aye.

- She means it!

She'll drop you.

When she's done with you,

she'll drop you.

- Get out.

- [Sighing]

Get out.

Get out.

Get out!

Out!

[Sir Henry] ...to be followed

by a visit from Lady Bridport.

She is keen to secure a place

for her niece as maid of honour.

- I'm tired.

- Um, there is one other matter.

- What is it?

- I have a letter, ma'am.

From whom?

From Princess Helena and other members

of the royal family.

My family is quite capable of

communicating with the Queen in person.

What do they want?

They are demanding the dismissal

of Mr Brown on grounds of drunkenness.

You wish

to see me, ma'am?

My husband tried always

to make me think more subtly.

Of course,

he taught me so much,

and I can never repay

my debt to him...

or the love I feel

even now.

But in truth,

I think I am someone...

who can only feel things...

when they are alive to me.

And for that reason,

I know I do not have a subtle mind.

I know that.

But I work hard,

and I...

try to do my duty.

However,

I have noticed of late...

that...

my feelings of grief...

are not so strong,

and I find myself leaning...

more...

on the comfort

of living friends.

Friends close to me now.

Your Majesty,

a settled resignation...

is more lasting proof

of affection...

than active grief.

If the Good Lord sees fit

to bring one into contact...

with... congenial

fellow beings,

one need not analyze

one's reaction too deeply.

To allow oneself

to be comforted...

by someone else...

need not imply disloyalty

to the memory of the loved one.

Sir Henry?

Please tell the princess

and other signatories to this letter...

that the Queen will not

be dictated to...

or made to alter

in any way...

what she has found

to answer for her comfort.

- Do I make myself clear?

- Ma'am.

You may go.

I would like to get down.

[Groaning]

I was told

you were in a fight.

Yes, ma'am.

Has someone seen

to those bruises?

Yes, ma'am.

Ma'am.

Having considered

my position here in court,

I have come to the conclusion

that in Your Majesty's

best interests I should resign.

I do not accept.

I had foreseen

that you would not.

But Your Majesty

should understand...

that I will not

be changed in this.

- I leave for Deeside...

- The Queen forbids it.

I cannot allow it...

because I cannot live

without you.

Without you, I cannot

find the strength...

to be who I must be.

Please.

Promise me you won't

let them send me back.

I promise.

[Disraeli] Yesterday,

Gladstone talked for three hours...

on the Irish Church bill.

I am as guilty as the rest

of underestimating his reforming zeal.

Tory days may be numbered,

but I fancy there yet remains...

one last hope

of deliverance.

Wheresoever the blame lies,

we must now close ranks...

and defend

Mrs Brown's England.

As for my interminable journey...

to the land of Calvin,

oatcakes and sulphur,

no prime minister

made greater sacrifice...

than attempting

to run the country...

six hundred miles

north of civilization.

## [Singing]

# Embracing... ##

How dare the Irish

break with the Anglicans!

If Albert were alive today,

he would never allow the crown

to give up church patronage.

No.

The Irish must be told very firmly

to stay exactly where they are.

It's the thin end

of the wedge, Mr Disraeli.

Next you will be telling me that

the crown no longer governs this nation.

Your Majesty remains

at the very epicentre of governance.

As for your people,

look no further than the sales...

of your

Highland journals...

to see in what affection

the nation holds their Queen.

Why, you sell even more copies

than Mr Dickens.

But I lack your prose,

Mr Disraeli.

Oh.

Of course,

I understand your concern.

You miss your people,

and they miss you.

- Then they may read about me.

- Indeed.

And for that, they are

eternally grateful.

- Is that not enough?

- In so many ways.

And yet, it is...

your presence they crave.

A figurehead.

I never thought to be bullied

by you, Mr Disraeli.

You, I thought,

understood a widow's grief.

Forgive me, ma'am.

I cannot speak for the nation,

only for myself.

As prime minister,

I confess I miss your presence.

But that is an expression

of my own selfish desires,

and I should not

burden you with it.

I stay here

because I am happy.

Is that

such a terrible crime?

No, ma'am.

Time for your walk.

- This is my good John Brown.

- Yes.

I've asked him to show you

a little of Highland life...

while you're with us

at Balmoral.

What brings you here?

A man can refuse only

so many invitations from his Queen.

It was remiss of me

not to come earlier.

And what do you know

of the Highlands?

[Chuckles]

I am a blank sheet.

- Do you hunt?

- Mmm, occasionally.

Daresay we could

have you taught.

To shoot, perhaps,

but not to kill.

If you hunt,

you hunt to kill.

Well, then,

I'll do my best.

[Thunder Rumbling]

Always remember, keep it

very tight to your shoulder,

absorb the kick

with your body,

aim for the head... bang!

Imagine it's Gladstone.

Yes, quite.

[Grunting, Sniffling]

Thank you.

- Back door, west wing?

- Checked and locked, sir.

- Side door, west wing?

- Checked and locked, sir.

- Front door, west wing?

- Checked and locked, sir.

- Side door, east wing?

- Checked and locked...

- Louder, girl!

- Checked and locked, sir.

- Kitchen, lower house?

- Checked and locked. Sir.

- Back and upper corridors?

- Checked and locked, sir.

Front door.

Checked and locked.

Did you see any

Irish assassins today, Mr Brown?

We heard the ponies

were Fenian sympathizers.

Or was it the stag?

There's not a soul in here...

who cares about that

wee woman's safety except me!

She would be dead

in a ditch...

if I wasn't here

to look out for her!

- You hear that?

- [Laughing]

[Groaning]

[Thunderclap]

What's this?

It's a diary.

- Be careful who sees it.

- What do you take me for?

- You should have someone look at ya.

- I'm all right.

Just need to rest up

a wee while.

[Groaning]

Oh.

You don't need to stay.

The place is a mess.

[Brown Moans]

Can't move to tidy.

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