Mrs Brown Page #11

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She stops herself. She is crying. DEAN WELLSELLY watches

her a moment, then speaks close, choosing his words

carefully.

DEAN WELLSELLY:

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 should

not analyze one's reaction too deeply.

To allow oneself to be comforted by

someone else need not imply any

disloyalty to the memory of the loved

one.

Silence. VICTORIA stares into the long, dark chapel.

Gradually, as she takes in the tone of his remarks, her

disappointment turns to anger.

INT. WINDSOR CASTLE, QUEEN'S SITTING ROOM - DAY

The next day, VICTORIA stands at the far window and her

back to the room. Lined up against the wall are BERTIE and

his siblings.

VICTORIA:

Sir Henry.

PONSONBY steps forward.

PONSONBY:

Ma'am?

VICTORIA:

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.

(beat)

Do I make myself clear?

PONSONBY:

Ma'am.

A beat.

VICTORIA:

You may go.

They all file out.

EXT. THE GROUNDS OF WINDSOR CASTLE - DAY

A few days later.

BROWN and VICTORIA are riding on horseback. Although

better than he was, BROWN'S face is still badly bruised.

They turn a corner banked by trees. BROWN is watching the

QUEEN closely. She stops.

VICTORIA:

I would like to get down.

Without a word, BROWN dismounts and helps her off her

horse.

VICTORIA (CONT'D)

John?

BROWN:

Yes, ma'am?

VICTORIA:

I was told you were in a fight.

BROWN:

Yes, ma'am.

VICTORIA:

Has someone seen to those bruises?

BROWN:

Yes, ma'am.

A beat.

BROWN (CONT'D)

Ma'am?

VICTORIA:

Yes?

BROWN:

Having considered my position here at

court, I have come to the conclusion

that it is in the best interest of

Your Majesty that I should resign.

VICTORIA:

I do not accept.

A beat.

BROWN:

I had foreseen that you would not.

But Your Majesty should understand --

that my mind will not be changed in

this. I leave for Deeside --

VICTORIA:

(cutting in)

The Queen forbids it.

(beat)

I cannot allow it because I cannot

live without you. Without you, I

cannot find the strength to be who I

must be. Please.

She takes his hand to her mouth and kisses it gently, then

looks at him, utterly helpless.

VICTORIA (CONT'D)

Promise me you won't let them send me

back.

A long silence. BROWN holds her hand tight.

BROWN:

I promise.

FADE TO BLACK.

CAPTION:
"1868"

FADE IN:

EXT. LOWLANDS - DAY

A few weeks later.

A tiny horse-drawn carriage creeps across a huge Highland

landscape.

DISRAELI (V.O.)

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 ...

EXT. BALMORAL CASTLE - DAY

DISRAELI hurries through the pouring rain.

DISRAELI (O.S.)

... no Prime Minister made greater

sacrifice than attempting to run the

country six hundred miles north of

civilization.

Reaching the castle, he hurries inside and the great doors

bang behind him.

INT. BALMORAL CASTLE, QUEEN'S DRAWING ROOM - DAY

The next day.

QUEEN VICTORIA is playing the piano like she walks, with

great vim and vigor. The tune is some quaint Scottish

ballad which she belts out in her clear strong voice,

almost drowning out PRINCE ARTHUR, PRINCE LOUISE and PRINCE

LEOPOLD who are meant to be accompanying her. They stand

in a nervous semi-circle, fumbling their harmonies.

Ignoring them completely, VICTORIA bobs up her head with a

quizzical smile to make sure she is being appreciated.

DISRAELI and the rest of the HOUSEHOLD stand a few yards

off, smiling rigidly. DISRAELI, the consummate politician

to his inch-high insteps, out-smiles the lot of them. This

man is in raptures of delight. And the more liquid his

smiles, the happier he makes VICTORIA. He beams, she

belts, until her children are drowned out completely.

And then, with characteristic suddenness, VICTORIA stops

playing and launches into one of her tirades. The

HOUSEHOLD wobbles in shock like children on a switch-back,

but DISRAELI glides smoothly from delight to sober concern.

VICTORIA:

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 is the thin edge

of the wedge, Mr Disraeli. Next, you

will be telling me that the Crown no

longer governs this nation.

A beat. A nervous silence in the Household.

DISRAELI:

Your Majesty remains at the very

epicenter 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.

(beat)

You sell even more copies than Mr

Dickens.

VICTORIA:

But I lack your prose, Mr Disraeli.

VICTORIA gives him a tiny smile. DISRAELI acknowledges it,

then steers the conversation back.

DISRAELI:

Of course I understand your concern.

You miss your people.

(a pause)

And they miss you.

VICTORIA registers a slight flicker of defensiveness at the

implied criticism.

VICTORIA:

Then they may read about me.

DISRAELI:

Indeed, and for that they are

eternally grateful.

VICTORIA:

Is that not enough?

DISRAELI:

In so many ways ... and yet it is your

presence they crave. A figurehead.

VICTORIA has the measure of him.

VICTORIA:

I never thought to be bullied by you,

Mr Disraeli. You, I thought,

understood a widow's grief.

DISRAELI:

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 only an

expression of my own selfish desires

and I should not burden you with it.

The Household waits. Has he clawed himself back? VICTORIA

acknowledges his apology. Her voice drops and she talks

directly to DISRAELI, straight from the heart.

VICTORIA:

I stay here because I am happy.

(beat)

Is that such a terrible crime?

DISRAELI:

No, ma'am.

At this moment the far door opens and BROWN walks in.

BROWN:

Time for your walk.

Without a word, VICTORIA rises from her chair and starts

following him out. As they pass DISRAELI, she stops.

VICTORIA:

This is my good John Brown.

DISRAELI:

(taking him in)

Yes.

VICTORIA:

I have asked him to show you a little

of Highland life while you are with us

at Balmoral.

BROWN measures DISRAELI suspiciously.

BROWN:

What brings you here?

DISRAELI:

A man can refuse only so many

invitations from his Queen. It was

remiss of me not to come earlier.

VICTORIA smiles. BROWN stares.

BROWN:

What do you know about the Highlands?

DISRAELI:

I am a blank sheet.

BROWN:

Do you hunt?

DISRAELI:

Occasionally.

BROWN:

Dare say you can be taught.

DISRAELI:

To shoot perhaps, but not to kill.

BROWN:

If you hunt, you kill.

DISRAELI counters effortlessly.

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