All language subtitles for Victoria.S02E06.720p.BluRay.x264.350MB-Pahe.in

"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.

The Egyptians had broken their promise
to the Israelites

and God punished them 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 can 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 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 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 will find
it is entirely of their own making.

- This reliance on one...
- Let us be clear about this.

Miss Stevens, a package.

And this for Mr Edwards.

And what is this?

I just don't recognise these markings.

- That will be for me.
- Are you sure, Miss Cleary?

- They look like hieroglyphics.
- Just give her the letter.

And I thought they spoke
English in Ireland.

Very well, carry on.

Ernest!

Can it really be you?

I wasn't expecting you
until 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.

Uh...

My doctors advised me that a course
of the waters there might be beneficial.

What, 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?
- Mm-hm.

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 see, 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 suchlike.

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.

Catholics outnumber
Protestants by ten to one.

If the Church were to flounder, the very
foundation of Irish society would crumble.

I had no idea.

I would be happy to explain
the Irish situation further, Ma'am.

When your nursery duties allow, of course.

- Your Honour!
- Halt!

Stop!

Mummy won't wake up.

Daddy!

Hello. 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?

Well, as I made clear in my report,

in London we're still relying on a 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'm 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 erelong
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 are familiar
with the works of Malthus, Ma'am,

but this is exactly as 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'm 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 can not 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 where the servants'
water closets would 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... 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.

And 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.

Mm. Oh.

You've given up already?

Mens sana in corpore sano.

I have neither.

Well, you could always go back to Coburg.

Live a healthy life there.

With a delightful wife,
chosen for me by Uncle Leopold.

Ernest erm...

.. 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.

I think perhaps it is too soon.

What do you think?

Drummond!

I... I didn't know you were at the palace.

I had some papers for the Queen
from the Prime Minister.

I should go.
There is 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.

The Irish are starving.

Then the Queen should
reach into her own purse.

Oh, women are so damn emotional!

Women like your fiancée?

She's insisting on setting a date
right in the middle of the session.

Sorry.

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

And I must go to the debate.

Goodbye, Alfred.

Have you lost your wits, Traill?

Do you understand what you are saying?

That we ought to 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 harvest failed.

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 say,
'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 civilisation, 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 send 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'd 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!

Yes, hear, hear! Quite right, too!

It is quite impossible

for the government to support
four million people.

Quite right. Quite right. Hear, hear.

Order!

The mercury vapour has been most effective.

The rash is 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 is 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 were to 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?

Um... I know that you can't buy decent ones
at the moment for love nor money.

In Ireland, potatoes are money.

My family are smallholders.

Without potatoes, they can't eat.

They can't pay the rent.

If they can't pay the rent,
they'll be evicted.

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

I've 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're a prince among men, Mr Francatelli.

A prince!

Oh... I'll settle for being someone
who's learnt how to do the right thing.

It's gonna take 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.

Babies screaming at their mother's breast
because she has no milk.

What is even more terrible,

is 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.

And 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.
- As I understand it, Dr Traill,

these shortages, they are endemic - an
inevitable result of relying 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 we can 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...

was capable of fulfilling
the duties of a monarch.

But since that time...

.. I've 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.

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.
- Thank you, sir.

Good day to 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 just 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's so far away.

Miss Cleary!

I am sorry, Your 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.

God 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
a people can take

before it becomes necessary
for us to provide them with food?