The Madness of King George
- PG-13
- Year:
- 1994
- 110 min
- 1,918 Views
(Child) Give it me!
Amelia.
Captain Greville, ma'am...
His Majesty's new equerry.
Captain Fitzroy?
Uh...
Could you show me...
Oh, God. Come on, Pa.
What's that one, Fred?
I discovered the other day
I'm...I'm bishop of Osnabruck.
Amazing what one is, really.
George!
Crown.
Your Majesty.
Ah, Lord Chancellor.
God, this place is as cold
as a greyhound's nostril.
Lord Chancellor.
(Crying)
(Crying)
Papa!
Ahem.
Papa, Papa!
Lift me up!
Oh, hey. What's this, madam?
Hey? Ha ha ha.
Tickle, tickle.
Yeah. Ha ha ha.
Right.
The son is unwholesome.
And fatter, always fatter.
Fatter because he's not doing,
what?
- Do you know England?
- Yes.
Brighton, Bath, yes.
But you know its mills
and manufactories?
Do you know its farms?
Because I do.
Do you know what they call me?
Farmer George.
- Do you know what that is?
- Impertinent, sir?
No, sir. Love!
Affection.
Admiration! You ought
to marry, sir, settle down.
Yes, grow up.
Good plain woman.
That's what you want.
Then the people will love you,
as they love me.
It is not good, this idleness.
That is why you're
getting fat, sir.
Do not be fat, sir. Fight it!
Now who's got
that blasted speech?
Stop! Who's got the speech?
- Here, sire.
- (King) Lord Chancellor.
- Ready?
- Yes.
Well, come on.
Let's get it over with.
The king commands the members
of this honourable House
to attend His Majesty
in the House of Peers.
Do you enjoy all this flummery,
Mr Pitt?
No, Mr Fox.
Do you enjoy anything, Mr Pitt?
A balance sheet, Mr Fox.
(King) Whereas we, George III,
in this year of our Lord 1788
do open this Parliament,
giving notice
that our will and pleasure
is that the following bills
shall be laid
before this House...
A bill for the
regulation of trade
with our possessions
in North America.
Ahem.
Our former possessions
in North America.
A bill for...
You see that the king did not
write his own speech, Mr Pitt.
The king will do as he's told,
Mr Fox.
Then why not be rid of him?
If a few ramshackle colonists
in America
can send him packing,
why can't we?
(Equerry)
Petitioners for the king!
Petitions for the king!
Present your petition!
Open the gate!
Stay with the line.
Over there. Petitioners.
(Cheering)
The petitioners, Your Majesty.
Oh. Yes.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
- The knife!
- Seize her!
(Crowd screams)
(Soldier) Hold her, boy!
No. I'm not hurt.
His Majesty is unharmed!
I've a property due to me
from the Crown of England.
The poor creature's mad.
No, no, no.
Do not hurt her.
I am unhurt.
Give me my property, or England
will be drenched in blood.
Will it, indeed, madam?
Well, not with this.
It's a fruit knife.
Wouldn't cut a cabbage.
Oh.
Ah. Who are you, sir?
Oh, this is Captain Greville,
sir, the new equerry.
Well, you are undressed, sir.
Do yourself up, sir.
You're an equerry,
not a scarecrow.
A property due to me
from the Crown.
You murderous fiend!
Thank God I have you yet.
Do not fuss, madam.
The king has no wound,
just a torn waistcoat.
One would consider that
almost as vexing.
(King) What was that?
I was rejoicing, sir,
that you are unharmed.
(Queen) The son rejoices(!)
The Prince of Wales
rejoices. Huh.
Me, too, Pa.
God save the king... and so on.
Your Majesty!
Aha, Mr Pitt. Well, you had
a lucky escape, what, what?
Aye, Your Majesty.
Yes, you.
You're my prime minister.
you'd be out and Mr Fox in.
There's no danger of that, sir.
Right. Back to Windsor.
George!
Smile, you lazy hound.
It's what you're paid for.
Smile and wave. Come on.
Smile and wave.
Everybody, smile and wave.
(Angrily) Smile and wave!
Arthur.
Pa's right.
I am getting fatter.
I don't mind that.
Oh? What do you mind?
That the world thinks
I'm just your mistress.
That's what I mind.
the whole bag of tricks.
I am determined.
I just don't want to be thought
a Catholic whore.
George...
If you tried harder
to get on with the king,
you could tell him the truth.
And he'd forgive me, hmm?
(Chuckles)
You are a sweet...
silly...
creature.
Try, George.
Ha ha ha!
Come on, boy!
Come on! Come on!
(squealing)
Pigs!
Come on.
(King) I say,
these are fine specimens.
What are they, Tamworths, what?
If it please Your Majesty.
Yes. Oh, yes.
They're a fine breed.
There's plenty
of meat on them, hey?
(King) Big litter.
Show me the youngster.
Yes, that's the one.
Yes, I say. Hey, hey.
You know what you are?
You're a Tamworth.
Are they really?
Well, are they really?
(King) Hah hah hah
hah hah hah hah!
Married yet,
Mr Pitt, what, what?
No, sir.
Got your eye
on anybody, then, hey?
No, sir.
A man should marry.
Yes, yes.
The best thing I ever did.
And children, you see. Children.
Great comfort.
as a professor at Oxford.
Was his father canon
of Westminster?
I have no idea, sir.
Yes, yes, Phillips.
That's the father.
This is the son.
And the daughter married the
organist at Norwich Cathedral.
Sharpe. Yes, their
son is the painter.
The other son
is a master at Eton,
he married somebody's niece.
Your Majesty's knowledge of
even the lowliest appointments
Ha ha.
(Clock chimes)
What's happened to Mr Fox?
Such a dodger.
Reform!
Too many ideas.
Not like you, Mr Pitt.
You don't have ideas.
Ah, well,
you have one very big idea
balancing the books...
and a very good idea
it is to have, too,
and one with which
I absolutely agree.
As I agree with you,
Mr Pitt, on everything.
Apart from the place
we mustn't mention.
The colonies!
They're now called
the United States, sir.
Are they?
Goodness, me.
The United States.
Well, I haven't mentioned them.
I prefer not to,
whatever they're called.
They are a fact, sir.
The vicar of Lichfield!
- Sir.
- The vicar of Lichfield.
It was his niece that married
the second son of the organist
at Norwich Cathedral.
Good night, Mr Pitt.
Good night, Your Majesty.
# Greensleeves #
(Sighs)
(Whispering)
(Giggling)
Fascinating stuff, what, what?
Let's have it again.
(Muffled groans)
Your Majesty, Lady Townsend
wishes to sit down.
Well, certainly not!
What?
Lady Townsend wants to sit down.
What for?
Because she is
five months pregnant.
So? You've had 15 children.
If everybody who is having
a baby wants to sit,
the next thing will be
everybody with gout!
Before long, the place
will look like a Turkish harem,
what, what?
Oh, that's enough.
Thank you, gentlemen.
Thank you.
(Coughing)
(Cough cough)
(Cough cough)
(King) Ah, Greville.
Thank you.
- Yes, that's better, what, what.
- Your Majesty.
You don't look at the king.
Didn't they tell you?
- I forgot, sir.
- Don't.
(Door opens)
That's Lady Pembroke.
Handsome woman, what?
Daughter of the duke
of Marlborough.
Stuff of generals.
Blood of Blenheim.
Husband's an utter rascal.
Eloped in a packet-boat.
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Submitted on August 05, 2018
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"The Madness of King George" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 19 Dec. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/the_madness_of_king_george_13142>.
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