The Madness of King George Page #4
- PG-13
- Year:
- 1994
- 110 min
- 1,919 Views
the pair of you, huh?
(Gas PS)
Those fat hands...
that young belly...
Sir, for pity's sake...
Those warm thighs!
You harlot!
George, hear me!
Do you think that you are mad?
I don't know.
I don't know.
Madness isn't such torment.
Madness isn't half blind.
Madmen can stand.
They skip. They dance.
And I talk.
I talk and talk and talk.
I hear the words,
so I have to speak them.
I have to empty my head
of the words.
Something has happened.
Something is not right.
Oh, Charlotte.
Ohh...
Ohh...
(Sobbing)
(Greville)
I will not do this.
(Fitzroy) It's by order
of the prince.
(Greville) I'm equerry
to His Majesty, not the prince.
(Fitzroy)
His Majesty is mad!
(Fitzroy) Your Majesty...
Can we never be solitary?
I told you to leave us.
I am talking
with His Majesty.
- The floods?
- Hush!
No, my dear. No. No.
Greville's right.
He's right to take precautions.
We must fetch the children.
Take them to the higher ground.
Save Amelia, Adolphus,
little Octavius.
Now, bring the queen.
(Greville) Bring the queen!
I've been instructed
by His Royal Highness
to move Your Majesty's
lodgings, ma'am.
Uh, Why? Where?
It is to assist
His Majesty's recovery.
(Greville) Captain Fitzroy!
- Go, sir, go!
- George!
Your Majesty is not to have
access to the King's presence.
Not have access?
But I am the queen.
Where are you taking him?
No! Stop!
George!
Tyrant!
(Murmuring)
Assaulted by both one's parents
in the same evening.
What is family life coming to?
I was told that, in England,
always the prince
hates the king.
Is that why he's mad?
If he's mad, you've made him so
by your idleness.
If I'm idle, it's because
the King gives me nothing to do.
Do? Do what I do. I support him.
I have 15 of his children.
Be grateful to me for giving you
a breathing space...
no, a breeding space.
I'm sorry.
Ha ha ha ha!
(Everyone laughing)
George. No, George, please.
Ahem.
Please let me stay
with him. Please.
No, madam.
On what authority?
Medical authority, ma'am.
On the authority of a son,
who cares for his sick father.
But I'm his wife.
Don't I care for him, too?
Possibly, madam.
But in his current
frame of mind,
I'm afraid His Majesty
does not seem to care for you.
No!
(Sobbing)
Come, madam.
Let me show Your Majesty
where they have lodged us.
(Moaning)
This is Sir Lucas Pepys,
Lord Chancellor,
whom I've taken
the liberty of consulting.
The more the merrier.
Are you familiar with
His Majesty's condition?
I have spent a lifetime
studying the anfractuosities
of the human understanding.
An... what?
The mind, sir, and it's, uh...
delinquencies.
If it were possible,
of one of His Majesty's motions.
Yes. That could be arranged,
couldn't it?
But what's the matter with him?
Persistent delirium...
and the pulse
sometimes rises to 110.
The pulse varies.
It doesn't signify.
(Papys) I agree.
more...eloquent than the pulse.
(Man groans)
(Chancellor)
So, uh, what do you suggest?
An immediate purge.
Warren?
He needs blistering.
On the back to draw
the humours from the brain.
Blistering on the legs
to draw the humours
to the lower extremities.
I agree...
but he'll never submit.
Hello there, Georgie boy.
Not my skin.
Not my skin, please.
Oh, for pity's sake.
I'm the Lord's anointed.
God, unto whom all hearts
be open, all desires known,
and from whom no secrets
are hid, cleanse...
h-h-hearts by the inspiration
of Thy Holy Spirit
that we may perfectly love Thee
and Thy Holy Name,
through Christ our Lord!
Amen! Amen! Amen!
My most merciful Father...
stray from thy ways
like lost sheep.
We follow too much.
God, help me. Help me.
(Sobbing)
Have mercy upon us...
miserable offenders.
(Distant voice)
Do not touch me! I'm the king!
Go and tell the queen
I am assaulted!
The queen!
Queen! Help!
He soils his clothes.
Urine. Excrement.
He talks filth, the slops
of his mind swilling over.
I am not a nurse.
If His Majesty
cannot regulate himself,
how should he regulate
the country?
is ended, one way or the other.
(Speaking Latin)
Omni felonious.
Omni victorious.
Happy and glorious.
Mr Pitt, Your Majesty.
Where?
Here, Your Majesty.
Stand close, Mr Pitt.
You'll have to speak up.
I don't see very well.
There is a fog here...
and...in my ear.
(Sobbing)
In my ear.
In my ears.
There have been questions
in the House, sir.
In the House?
Parliament?
Well, do nothing,
Mr Pitt. Nothing.
I'm not mad.
I'm...
I...
I can't see.
There is a mist.
Oh, the queen.
I missed her.
I... I... I...
I missed her.
Gone. Gone.
Gone. Gone.
(Sobbing)
The doctors
thought it best, sir.
Gone.
Oh, doctor...
Oh...
(Voice shaking)
(Mumbling)
Oh, Jesus Christ.
Come on.
(Sobbing)
Oh, God!
Oh!
Oh, God!
(Wailing)
Honourable members would,
I am sure, like to know
that I saw His Majesty
yesterday,
and the only symptoms
of his disorder
were a tendency
to repeat himself
and a wandering
from one topic to another...
a characteristic that's shared
by most of the converse
of polite society...
(Laughter)
which, if judged severely,
would warrant
the consignment to bedlam
of many in this House!
Ha ha ha ha!
Ha ha ha!
(Speaker) Mr Fox.
Mr Pitt's consoling pleasantries
should not deceive the House.
The king is incapacitated.
There are those who say
he has lost his reason.
It isn't so!
- Nonsense!
- In which case,
to make the Prince
of Wales...regent.
(Shouting)
(Speaker) Order!
Order!
is that a bill
to appoint the Prince of Wales
regent of this kingdom!
The house will divide.
Thank you, gentlemen,
for your support.
Sir, I must vote.
For the life of me, I can't see
why they need to vote.
The king is incapable.
It's known.
These are the nation's
representatives.
Some come to Parliament
in the hope
that they might serve
their country.
But most of them, being human,
are here to fill their pockets.
Pitt and your father
have done them very well...
pensions, places...
bribes.
Once it is plain
that Pitt is finished
and there is no more swill
in the trough,
Your Royal Highness
will be made regent.
Sir, I must join the line.
Gascoigne.
Sheridan.
Fox.
(Fox)
Very good. A majority of 30.
Rather good.
A government majority of 30.
Government? 30?
You mean we haven't won?
Well, we didn't expect
to win outright,
not the first vote.
They will, sir, they will,
in time.
Time, always time.
Now is the time, Charles! Now!
And that's our boy.
God rot all royals.
Give us the wisdom of America.
But he will recover
in time, surely.
What good is that?
Once he's made regent,
the prince will have him locked
away in some Windsor hell-hole.
Mad or sane,
no one will know.
You've been reading
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