The Duchess
Lord Thomas.
Lord Henry.
Lord Ambrose.
Lord Robert.
Lord Walter.
You'd better not let me down,
Charles Grey.
- I've got 20 guineas riding on you.
- Only 20? I'd double that if I were you.
Come on, ladies.
Gentlemen, twice around the course,
on my count.
Three, two,
one!
- Come on, Mr. Grey!
- Come on, Thomas!
- Come on, Mr. Grey!
- Run, Lord Walter!
Come on, Mr. Grey!
Come on, Mr. Grey.
You're tired already.
- Come on, Mr. Grey!
- Faster!
I trust Your Grace still finds Georgiana
an attractive girl?
Of course, Lady Spencer.
She's an accomplished lady of quality
and devoted to her duties.
She's fluent in French, Italian, Latin
and fully versed in horsemanship
and dancing and...
Yes, I'm aware of all that.
She's a credit to you.
I can't think of anything
that would stand in the way
of a singularly happy marriage.
These are not the issues
that burden the Duke, Lady Spencer.
It is His Grace's duty to produce an heir.
On the other hand,
your daughter may expect
a handsome reward when that occurs.
- Thank you, Heaton.
- Your Grace.
Your Grace may rest assured.
The women in our family
have never forfeited on that account.
Well, with that assurance...
So be it, then.
Come on, Mr. Grey!
I do apologize, ladies,
but it appears that my horse has won.
Beat me again, Charles.
- Well done, Mr. Grey.
- Well done.
- So how much do we owe you?
- You owe me 40.
- Twenty, 40.
- My reward?
And what do you suggest?
Your mother wishes to see you,
Lady Georgiana.
Thank you.
I must apologize, Mama.
Were we making too much noise?
Not at all, my darling.
We have more important things
to talk of. Come here.
- I have heard a rumor.
- Yes?
That I will soon be addressing
my daughter
as Her Grace,
the Duchess of Devonshire.
- Is it true, Mama?
- It is.
The Duke of Devonshire?
I had hoped not to part with you
until 18 at the soonest,
but, with such a fine match,
it would be selfish of me
not to let you go.
- He loves me?
- Yes, of course.
I have only met him twice.
When one truly loves someone,
one doesn't have to know them well
to be sure, Georgiana.
One feels it right away.
- I do believe you will be happy with him.
- I shall, Mama. I know I shall.
- Come on!
- She's here!
Your Grace! Your Grace!
- There she is!
- Duchess!
What do they want?
To see me and my new wife, of course.
It can be a nuisance,
but you'll get used to it.
Welcome, Your Grace.
Come, boys. Come on.
Hugo, Hugo. Come.
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.
It's all right. Yes, yes. This way.
Hugo. Come, boy. Come.
Scissors. You may go.
For the life of me,
I could never understand
why women's clothes
must be so damn complicated.
It's just our way
of expressing ourselves, I suppose.
Whatever do you mean?
Well, you have so many ways
of expressing yourselves,
whereas we must make do
with our hats and our dresses.
Would you go to the bed?
One has to accept one's responsibility.
Certain obligations come with marriage,
no matter how burdensome
they may seem.
Yes, but when we are together...
But when we are together, intimately,
I mean...
I know. It can be a bother.
However, it is only
until you have given him a son.
Then the occasions will become fewer
and less determined.
I think it might feel different
if he would talk to me
every once in a while.
I mean, it's not that he's unkind,
but he never talks to me.
I thought that he would be like Papa,
that under his cool reserve
there'd be a wealth of depth
and sentiment,
but he isn't interested in anything,
apart from his dogs.
Try not to be too hard on His Grace, G.
He's merely intent on fulfilling his duty.
And as for talking to him,
well, whatever is there to talk about?
No, you're quite right.
How foolish of me to think
that I should be able to converse
with my husband.
Georgiana, equip yourself with patience,
fortitude and resignation.
A boy will come soon enough,
and then you'll see.
But we, the Whig Party, simply see this
as just, right and sensible.
Just to bring independence to America.
Right to abolish the slave trade.
to the common man,
so the blessings of this blessed plot,
this England,
may be more equally enjoyed
by all of its inhabitants.
I would like to propose a toast
to our host and benefactor
His Grace the Duke
and his beautiful new Duchess.
Please be upstanding.
- The Duke and Duchess!
- The Duke and Duchess!
Excellent speech, Mr. Fox.
I thank you. It is always easier
to address a congregation of friends,
particularly when those friends
are drunk.
And how did the Duchess find
Mr. Fox's speech?
I must confess, I am not yet at ease
with political speeches.
Their very form tends to obstruct
my view of their actual meaning,
if such there be.
In which particular section
of the speech
did the message elude Your Grace?
Well, I have great sympathy
with your sentiments in general,
but I fail to fully comprehend
how far we, the Whig Party, that is,
are fully committed
to the concept of freedom.
- We intend to extend the vote.
- To all men?
Heavens, no. But certainly to more men.
Freedom in moderation.
- "Freedom in moderation"?
- Precisely.
I'm sure you are
full of the best intentions, Mr. Fox,
but I dare say
if I had it, of course,
on so vague a statement.
One is either free or one is not.
The concept of freedom is an absolute.
After all,
one cannot be moderately dead
or moderately loved or moderately free.
It must always remain
a matter of either or.
I think it appropriate to say a few words.
When...
Could you check the chamber
- and see if you can find...
- Your Grace.
...different kinds of French lace?
- Is anything the matter?
- No.
- You just left.
- Yes. Well, I had done eating,
and those damn speeches
bore me to distraction.
I think we have to ban them
in the future.
But you are the Whigs' main supporter.
Yes. Well,
I've no problem with the politics.
It's just the rhetoric I can't stand.
- Shall I come with you?
- No. I mean, why ever should you?
The Duke is perfectly well.
He simply wanted to rest a while.
Do sit down, gentlemen.
Was it the length of the speech
that got the better of the Duke?
Certainly not.
He enjoyed it immensely
and expressed a hope
that next time it would be even longer.
- Your Grace.
- Mr. Fox.
- What's going on?
- I don't understand.
- Come here.
You look very beautiful tonight.
Is this dress your design?
Yes, it is. Thank you.
Then I think you should allow
your husband to appreciate it
in a little more detail.
Come here.
- Yes, send them in.
- Are we having company?
Don't you think
this mutton has a funny taste?
- No. Not really, no.
- I think it does.
G, this is Charlotte,
and she will be staying with us.
Why?
Because her mother is dead,
and she has no other place to go.
Have you fathered that child?
It's... It's only a little girl, G.
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"The Duchess" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 22 Dec. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/the_duchess_7324>.
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