All language subtitles for Victoria.S02E06.Faith.Hope.and.Charity.720p.BluRay.HEVC.x265-BONE.srt - eng(2)

And the Lord made an east wind
blow across the land

all that day and all night.

And the wind had brought
the locusts;

they invaded all Egypt,

settled down in every part
of the country in great numbers.

They covered all the ground
until it was black.

They devoured all that was left
after the hail,

everything growing in the
fields, the fruit on the trees.

Nothing green was left

in any part of the land
of Egypt.

For the Egyptians
had broken their promise

to the Israelites
and God punished

with a plague that made
the sky dark

and the land barren.

What a gloomy sermon.

I found it rather
thought provoking.

How pestilence and plague
is part of God's will.

What could be gloomier
than that?

I've seen potato fields
in my parish

where every plant is black,
My Lord,

and when they dig the tubers up,
they're quite putrid.

I believe the black stuff
can be scraped off,

and what is left
may be boiled down

to make a farinaceous mixture,
which is most nourishing.

I have set up a soup kitchen
in my parish for my flock.

And in the spirit
of Christian charity,

I welcome any papist
who wishes to be baptised

into the Church of Ireland.

My congregation,
I must say, has swelled.

Every cloud-- or should I say,
rotten potato--

has a silver lining.

But if some poor beggar
were to show up

without a certificate
of baptism, what then?

I seem to remember, Traill,

that you were not
so charitably disposed

towards the papists
in your parish

when they refused to pay
their tithes.

That was wilful disobedience,
my lord,

but this... calamity
is not of their making.

Oh, come now, Traill.

I think you'll find it is
entirely of their making.

This reliance...

Miss Stevens, a package.

And this for Mr. Edwards.

And what is this?

I just don't recognize
these markings.

That'll be for me.

Are you sure, Miss Cleary?

They look like
hieroglyphics to me.

Just give her the letter,
Mr. Penge.

And I thought they spoke
English in Ireland.

Very well, carry on.

Ernest!

Can it really be you?

I wasn't expecting you
till the christening.

Well, I hope I am still welcome.

You are always welcome here.

How are things at Coburg?

You know how it is.

The roof of the Hall of Giants
is still leaking

and the girls
at the Golden Fleece

are as educational as ever.

I heard that after Paris,

you went straight
to Baden-Baden.

It seems you are never at home.

My doctors advised me that
a course of the waters there

might be beneficial.

What are you...
you are-- you are ill?

Nothing serious.

I enjoyed myself perhaps
a little too much in Paris.

Well, I am glad
you have come back.

News from home?

It's nothing.

Are you sure?

Your majesty,
Mr. Trevelyan here,

who works in the Irish office,

has drawn up some suggestions

for the new
archbishop of Dublin.

I don't know any of these names.
It is hard to attract

candidates of the very highest
calibre to the Irish sea, ma'am.

The church there
has financial difficulties.

The so-called Tithe War
has been very damaging.

A war?

The Irish, as a race, are prone
to exaggeration, ma'am.

Some unruly elements
among the Catholic peasantry

objected to paying tithes
to the Church of Ireland

and made some violent protests.

I believe some clergymen

were burnt in effigy,
and such like.

But if the peasants
are Catholic,

then why are they paying money

to a church
they don't belong to?

The Church of Ireland
is the established church.

It is a vital bulwark

against the forces
of anarchy, ma'am.

The Catholics outnumber
Protestants

by ten to one.

If the church were to flounder,

then the very foundation
of Irish society would crumble.

I had no idea.
I would be more than happy

to explain the Irish situation
further, ma'am.

When your nursery duties
allow, of course.

Your honour!

Stop!

Mummy won't wake up.

Daddy!

Hello, my darling.

If you look carefully, sir,

you can still see the remains

of the Roman hypocaust.

The palace is built on a sewer!

As I made clear in my report,

in London we're still relying
on the drainage system

that was built by the Romans.

Half a mile from here
in the rookeries of Pimlico,

thousands of people
are living without any access

to clean water and no way
to dispose of their waste.

The streets are no better
than open sewers.

So what you are saying is that,

even in the 19th century,

our public sanitation is
inferior to that of the Romans?

I'm afraid so.

Well, I will not only be
supporting your commission,

Mr. Chadwick, I fear your work
must begin here at the palace.

We must show the world

that cleanliness
is next to godliness.

Thank you.
Gentlemen, please.

And if you really intend
to put water closets

throughout the palace,
well here would be

a suitable place to install one

for the servants.

Hygiene should not only be
the preserve of the rich,

Mr. Chadwick.

I couldn't agree with you more,
Your Royal Highness.

"Hygiene"?
Is that German

for an assault
on individual liberty?

I think that the female members
of the household

will see it not as an assault,
but as a convenience.

I am going to bed, Robert.

Please don't stay up all night.

I saw a woman

die of starvation today, Anne.

She left five children.

Oh, I'm sorry to hear that.

I'll visit the family tomorrow.

The name is Keenan.

They live at the crossroads.

Catholics?

Famine has no denomination,
Anne.

The people of this parish
have nothing to eat.

The same people that tried
to burn this house down

three years ago, Robert?

I know, but Anne, the entire
potato harvest has gone.

Did you speak to the bishop

about a living in Dublin?

We had more important matters
to discuss.

What could be more important

than your family's happiness,
Robert?

"Sir, the haggard eye,

"the pale, sunken cheek.

"One poor creature came up to me

"and staggered like a drunk man,

"I charged him
with intoxication,

"but alas it was starvation.

"Famine is advancing
with strides so fearful

"that I verily believe
that if some superhuman effort

"is not made to relieve us,

"half our population
will be heir long

be blotted
from the book of being."

Sir Robert,
have you read this letter

from the rector of Schull?

He writes that
people in his parish

are living off seaweed
and nettles.

As you will see

in my memorandum
of the 17th, ma'am,

nettles contain more nourishment
than you might imagine.

I believe when gathered young,
the leaves taste like spinach.

Dr. Traill writes that people
are too weak to bury their dead.

And that corpses are left
by the side of the road.

The Irish like to imbibe
at funerals.

Perhaps that is why
they are incapable

of digging a decent grave.

Aren't you going to do anything,

prime minister?

I am afraid,
it would not be... desirable

for the government
to intervene, ma'am.

The truth is, ma'am,
the population of Ireland

has grown beyond
its natural limits.

It would be immoral of us

to interfere in

what is an inevitable period

of self-regulation.
Self-regulation?

I don't know if you're familiar
with the work of Malthus, ma'am,

but this is exactly the sort of
situation he predicted.

Population growth always
outstrips food production,

with inevitable results.

I think I should like to visit
Ireland.

I feel I need to see
the situation for myself.

Such a visit would be
inadvisable, ma'am.

Why not?

Surely my presence
will bring them some comfort.

I am not sure how comforting
your presence would be.

I could not guarantee
your safety.

Yes, as I thought.

The rash and the mouth lesions
are common manifestations,

Mr. Schubert.

It's most unfortunate,
of course,

that the women who carry
this disease do not present

their symptoms so evidently.

Is there a cure?

I cannot promise that,

but there is a new treatment

that I believe
is most efficacious.

I am prepared to try anything.

It is an expensive undertaking.

Oh, don't worry, doctor,
I can pay your fees.

In that case,
I will make the arrangements.

Six sessions
of half an hour each.

And I think you will see
a distinct improvement.

The mercury vapour
is not pleasant,

but I believe the results
are worth it.

Only another ten minutes,
Mr. Schubert.

And this is were the servants'
water closets will be.

There can be no distinction

when it comes to hygiene.

Only when it comes
to the Irish...

I do not know what you mean.

I mean, if English labourers
were dying in ditches,

it would be a scandal,

but because they're Irish
they're ignored.

I do not see what that
has to do with

water closets for servants.

Albert, none of this
makes sense to me.

I merely wanted the people
that work for us

to do so in decency.

Would you rather
they worked in a sewer?

Victoria, I can see
how much you care

about the situation in Ireland,

but we have to remind ourselves

that charity begins at home.

You think this is enough?

Trust Sir Robert
to do what is best.

He has served in Ireland,

he knows the situation
better than most.

He's a good man,

and a Christian.

Your Majesty,
have you heard the news?

What news?

Sutherland's dead.

How?

It was a hunting accident.

Poor Harriet.

I shall ask her to the palace.

You've given up already?

Mens sano in corpore sana.

I have neither.

Well, you could always

go back to Coburg.

Lead a healthy life there.

With a delightful wife

chosen for me by Uncle Leopold.

Ernest, um...

I-I-I do not know

if you are aware.

Harriet Sutherland's

husband has died.

I did not know that.

He broke his neck
whilst hunting.

Poor Harriet.

Victoria would like her
to return to court.

But I think perhaps
it is too soon.

What do you think?

Drummond!

I didn't know
you were at the palace.

I had some papers for the queen
from the prime minister.

I should go,

there's a debate
on the Irish question.

Yes, the queen talks
about nothing else.

The prime minister's
doing what he can.

He can't alter his policy
just because the queen's

read some letters in the Times.

But the Irish are starving.

Then the queen should reach
into her own purse.

Women are so damn emotional.

Women like your fiancée?

She is insisting on
setting the date

right in the middle
of the session.

Sorry...

You don't want to hear
about that do you?

Well, I must go to the debate.

Goodbye, Alfred.

Have you lost your wits, Traill?

Do you understand
what you are saying?

That we ought feed a gaggle
of potato-eating papists

because they have brought
this misfortune upon themselves,

through their own improvidence
and fecklessness!

It's not their fault the
potato harvest failed, my lord.

But it is not the church's
responsibility to feed them.

Let them find work.

If we were
to start supporting them,

there would be no end to it.

They must learn to live
within their means!

What means?

A loaf of bread now
costs ten shillings!

That is a year's rent, my lord!

The people of this parish
are already starving!

Soon they will be
homeless as well!

That is not our concern, Traill!

"For the poor shall never
cease out of the land:

"therefore I command thee,
saying, Thou shalt open

"thine hand wide
unto thy brother, to thy poor,

and to thy needy, in thy land."

Deuteronomy 15:11.

Do you ever want to return
to civilization, Traill?

I hear the new
archbishop of Dublin

is looking for a chaplain.

I'm sure your wife
would like to return

to the society she's used to.

Mrs. Traill understands
my mission.

I hope so, Traill.

Because I can assure you,

you will never return to Dublin

if you persist
in flouting my authority.

I believe, my lord,
that I answer

to a higher authority--
even than yours.

In County Cork the potato crop

has failed completely.

But if you sent relief
to Ireland...

Then every factory worker
in Manchester will ask

why he must spend
half his income on bread

while the Irish peasant

is given charity.

If I send help to Ireland,
Drummond,

it is only just
that I repeal those laws

that artificially protect
the price of British wheat.

If I do that...

The party will rebel.

Every Tory squire
whose income is guaranteed

by those Corn Laws

will think I've betrayed them.

And they would be right
to do so.

Wouldn't the
prime minister agree

that it is time to call
the formidable effects

of the potato blight a famine,

and act accordingly?

If it were known
that we undertook the task

of supplying the Irish
with food,

we would, to a great extent,

lose the support

of the Irish gentry,

the Irish clergy

and the Irish farmer!

Order!

Order!

Quite right too!

It is quite impossible

for the government to support
four million people.

Here, here!

Order!

The mercury vapour
has been most effective.

The rash has gone,

and all the other symptoms
have subsided.

I really am very pleased
with the results, Mr. Schubert.

Does that mean that I am cured?

I make no guarantees, sir,

but if the symptoms
do not return,

then I think we may hope.

May I ask, sir,
if you are married?

I am not married.

No.

It would be most unfortunate
if an innocent party

were to be infected.

And, of course, the children
in such cases

can be terribly blighted.

Mr. Penge.

I'm sorry to be disturbing you.

I was wondering...

if there was a chance

of maybe getting paid
a little earlier this quarter?

Is this a joke, Miss Cleary?

Some Hibernian attempt
at humour?

No, sir.

Then I fail to understand
the question.

I am the palace steward,
not the Bank of England.

Mr. Penge, I am begging you.

I'm afraid, Miss Cleary,

that you, like so many
of your compatriots,

must learn to live
within your means.

"Dear Dr. Traill--

the queen writes with respect

"of your letter concerning
the dreadful conditions

in your parish."

What is it, Robert?

"She has been most affected
by your account

"of the suffering there.

"Therefore she would be
most grateful

"if you would come
to Buckingham Palace

"so that you may furnish her

"with a first-hand account
of how the famine progresses.

"And what may be done
to relieve the misfortunes

of her most unfortunate
people."

Is it a sweetheart?

Let me tell you, Miss Cleary,
no man is worth it.

Did you hear about the potato
blight, Mr. Francatelli?

I know that you can't buy
decent ones at the moment

for love nor money.

In Ireland, potatoes are money.

My family are small holders.

Without potatoes,
they can't eat.

They can't pay their rent.

If they don't pay their rent

they'll be evicted,

and then I don't know
what'll happen to them.

I have sent them
everything I have,

Mr. Francatelli.

Everything!

A lady friend gave this to me.

Don't take less than
50 for it, it's pure gold.

I-I can't...

She said it made me look

like a gentleman,

but I think I'd rather be
judged by my actions

than my appearance.

You are a prince among men,

Mr. Francatelli.

A prince?

Well, I'll settle
for being someone

who's learnt how to do
the right thing.

It will take me years
to repay you.

I don't want your money,
Miss Cleary.

You're doing me a favour.

Dr. Traill.

Thank you for coming
to the palace.

When I received your letter,
ma'am, I knew the Lord

had been listening to me.

Please, do sit.

Won't you have something to eat?

I cannot eat, ma'am.

My heart is too full.

I understand,

or rather I hope you
will help me to understand.

I have spent my life
studying the Bible, ma'am.

But nothing has prepared me
for what I see every morning

out of the window

of the rectory.

Grown men staggering as if drunk

but actually weak
from starvation.

Old people who turn away
what little nourishment

they are offered because
they would rather die

than be a burden
to their families.

Babies screaming
at their mother's breast

because she has no milk.

What is even more terrible
is that nothing is being done

to help these poor creatures.

Do you know what I saw
on the boat coming over here?

Bushels of grain on its way
to England to be sold.

One of those sacks
would have fed the children

in my parish for a week.

How can that be, ma'am?

I am only a parson,
but I do not understand

how a country where famine

is stalking the land
can send food abroad.

I am the queen,

and I too do not understand.

Albert,

this is Dr. Traill,

who has come to the palace
at my request.

Oh, the gentleman who has
been writing so eloquently

to the newspapers?

Good day.
Sir.

But as I understand it,
Dr. Traill,

these shortages,
they are are endemic.

It's an inevitable result of
relying too heavily on one crop.

I don't think you can
blame the Irish

for the potato blight, Albert.

I think, ma'am,
I might have said

something similar
a few years ago.

I, too, believed the Catholics

had only themselves to blame
for their misfortunes.

I thought if I could bring them
to the Church of Ireland

they would learn
to help themselves.

The truth is, the reason
the Catholic peasantry

are starving is because
they have no legal right

to the land they farm.

If they fall behind
in their rent they are evicted

without compensation for
any improvements they have made.

There's no wonder they live
from season to season.

There is no reason for them
to be prudent, sir.

So what is it can we do,
Dr. Traill?

Persuade your government
to send sustenance, ma'am.

Or the people of my parish
will swell and ripen

only for the grave.

Your Honour.

Dr. Traill is the
queen's guest, Miss Cleary.

Cleary?

Are you...?
Yes, sir,

My family live in Schull.
Please can you give them this?

Tell them I will send more
by Michaelmas.

It should be enough
to pay the rent at least.

I will.
I'm sure Father O'Connell

will know where to find them.

I don't know what you mean, sir.

You mustn't be ashamed
of who you are.

The queen has given me money
to help the people of Schull,

both Catholic and Protestant.

It is your duty to help her
understand the country

that she reigns over,

Miss Cleary.

But ma'am,
if the government provides food,

we would be creating
a country of dependents.

Why should a man struggle
to earn his living

while his neighbour
lives in idleness?

Thank you, Mr. Trevelyan.

You may leave us.

I will not stand by
while the Irish die of hunger!

I cannot have it
on my conscience.

Sir Robert,
remember Corinthians 13:

"And now abideth faith,
hope, charity;

the greatest of these
is charity."

You must believe that I have
examined my own conscience

most rigorously, ma'am.

Come with me, Sir Robert.

Come on.

Look at this child, Sir Robert.

Look at Alice.

Can you imagine
what it must be like

to be a mother
in Dr. Traill's parish?

Who knows that she has
no milk to give,

and the crying will grow weaker,

and weaker,

and weaker...

until one day it stops.

Charity begins at home,
Sir Robert.

It begins here in the nursery,
and as a mother...

I will not let my people starve.

You want to turn this house
into a soup kitchen?

What about the children?

There's fever in the village,
Robert,

do you want to visit
the plague on your own family?

No.

I think you and the children
should go to your mother's

in Dublin.

You would banish me and
the children from our home?

It is my sacred duty, Anne.

What about your duty
to your family?

I cannot pass by
on the other side, Anne.

I know...

But if I go to Dublin,

I will not return.

My place is here.

When I first met you,
Sir Robert,

I confess,
I did not find you congenial.

I remember, ma'am.

But since then
what I've come to understand,

you are a man of principle.

Well, I'm afraid
that principles are a luxury

in a prime minister.

If I follow my conscience,

I will destroy my party.

As a monarch I can only advise.

But as a mother...

I implore you, Sir Robert,
listen to your conscience.

Men think mothers are
great eiderdowns of comfort,

but... we are fierce.

I would do anything
to protect my children.

When I first met you, ma'am,

I wondered whether
such a young woman

were capable of fulfilling
the duties of a monarch.

But since that time,

I have come to appreciate
your strength of purpose.

First impressions
are misleading, Sir Robert.

Indeed they are, ma'am.

There must be no barriers
to hygiene.

And that is why I have asked

Mr. Chadwick here
to install a water closet

in the servants' quarters.

One day I hope
that all households

will have...
a throne of their own.

Please.

Thank you.

Good day.
Good day to you all.

Shall we begin?

First,

we should discuss
how to deal with the queen's...

Excuse me, my lord.

We are to be joined by one more.

I have asked Father O'Connell

to join us.

You'll never get to Dublin now,
Traill.

Now, gentlemen,

what is to be done?

Your Majesty.

Forgive me, Your Majesty,
for disturbing you,

but I was wanting to say
that you did a splendid thing

sending for Dr. Traill.

You know him?

I know of him, ma'am.

I come from Schull,
where he's the rector.

But I am not of his church.

I wanted this position so badly.

I have no objection to Catholics

in the household.

God bless you, ma'am.

Tell me...

how is your family?

Gone to America, ma'am.

I sent them money
to pay the rent,

but it was too late
and they were evicted,

so my father decided
to emigrate.

They sail from Cork next week.

My mother says they'll write
when they're settled,

but America is so far away...

Miss Cleary!

I'm sorry, Majesty,

for the disturbance.

It's all right, Lehzen.

Thank you for confiding in me.

I did not know
she was a Catholic

when I offered her the position.

As if that matters.

Bless you.

Bless you.

Bless you.

Bless you.

Surely we must be ready
for a famine,

whether it comes or not?

Are we to sit in cabinet

and consider and calculate

how much dysentery and diarrhoea
our people can take

before it becomes necessary

for us to provide them
with food?

Thank you.