All language subtitles for The Crown - S02E10 - Mystery Man.en

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Good morning, Your Royal Highness.
It's 7:30.

Good morning, John.

Ah!

Christ.

Ah.

Ah.

Ah.

Ah.

Go on, man. Click it.
I can't, sir.

This needs to be seen by a professional.
Don't be so bloody wet.

It just needs a good sharp...

It doesn't fill one with confidence.

He comes very highly recommended.
Mm.

Treats everyone. Winston Churchill,
Duncan Sandys, Lord Astor.

I woke up,
turned my head and there it was.

I must have cricked it
during the course of the night.

Hmm. It's possible.

Can you sit up, please,
Your Royal Highness?

People come to me with necks,
backs, elbows, knees.

Hmm.

Very often it's nothing to do
with the symptoms.

The real cause is something else.

Such as?

Ah...

Tension. Emotional strain.

...Oh...

Unresolved conflicts
of one form or another.

...Oh...

There.

Oh, and how does one go about
treating those?

Well, first by identifying them,
recognizing them,

and then by treating
not just the physical symptoms

but, uh, well,
changing one's whole lifestyle.

I used to have a fellow
look after me in that department

who made sure there wasn't
too much tension in my life.

Mike Parker?
Surely you don't know the old rascal too?

I do.

Why didn't you say?
What is your name again?

Ward, sir. Stephen Ward. He always talked
about my getting you out for the weekend.

Where?
A party or two.

I enjoy putting people together.

Matter of fact, it'll be
rather a fun group this weekend.

If you were agreeable, we might even
find time for a quick portrait.

As you can see, I, uh... I dabble.

Who's this?

Oh, Christine.

Uh, she'll be there. Mandy will too.

Do you know,
my neck's feeling better already.

That way!

Christine Keeler, do you know this man?

Captain Eugene Ivanov.

Soviet naval attache.

No comment.

Did you have relations with this man,
John Profumo, Minister of War?

No comment.

Miss Keeler, you were at this party
hosted by Stephen Ward.

Who's this man?

Miss Keeler?

Splendid day.
Rather successful, I would say.

Thank you for coming, John.
Prime Minister.

Shall we?
After you.

Good trip down?
Rather an early start.

What was John Profumo doing here?

I asked him to come and see me
so we could have a frank conversation,

man to man.

I'll tell you what worries me, John.

It's that the many and significant
achievements of this government

are being overshadowed
by scandal and rumor.

Damn.

Then I shall confirm for you
what I told your private secretary,

and what I subsequently told the House.

I have nothing to hide,
nothing to answer for.

I told him to think carefully

about what he was saying,
we were friends...

Shot.
...and could speak in confidence.

There are fault lines
in most marriages...

and I could admit to mine.

Come on, Harold.

I didn't come to you
on bended knee six years ago

begging to serve in your government
only to make a fool of you.

Do you believe him?

In the course of my life, I've learned
to recognize the face of a liar.

Something in the features
is drawn differently.

Something in the eyes.

What other option is there?

To distrust those close to me,
those who profess to love me?

That would be too painful.

And the photograph?
Which photograph?

At a party, hosted by one Stephen Ward.

Society osteopath.

A call girl and a Russian spy
in the foreground.

In the background... A shadow.

A shadow with Profumo's likeness.

If you say so.
I say there's reasonable doubt.

Credulous, trusting fool.

In my six years as Prime Minister,

I have had to face
many grave and baffling difficulties.

This is one such occasion.

I would like to make it clear

that I believe John Profumo is entitled
not only to the support,

but also to the sympathetic
understanding and confidence of the House

and of the entire country.

Thank you. Who's the mystery man, sir?

It was bad enough
with just the music and shouting

at all hours of the day and night.

Yes, well,
Margaret's always been high-spirited.

But this building work is unbearable.
Unbearable.

And no sign of it ending.

And now a new roof.
So I gather.

Banging and hammering and drilling,

sometimes even at the weekends.

And it's not just me that's suffering.

I know it's driven the Gloucesters
quite mad.

Oh,
everything irritates the Gloucesters.

Ah!

Sir John Weir, Your Majesty. Thank you.

Don't worry, Aunt Marina.

As head of the family,
it's what I'm here for.

I'll have a word with Margaret.
Thank you.

Your Majesty. Sir John.

As you know, we took the samples
yesterday. We've had the results back.

I am delighted to confirm
that you are expecting.

Oh!

Congratulations.
Thank you.

Now, it's wonderful news,
but I must temper it with caution.

Your iron levels are low, very low.

Not dangerous yet, but not far off.

Oh...

Hello. Ma'am.

I hope you're sitting down.

Philip?

His Royal Highness is away, ma'am.
Where?

At a house party, for the weekend.

The weekend? It's Wednesday.
He never mentioned anything.

It was all very last minute.

Oh.

Yes, of course. Thank you.

Ma'am.

Miss Keeler! Who's the man, Christine?

This way. Mr. Ward!

Mr. Ward. What about Mr. Profumo?

Thanks for letting us know.

...Yes, no worries, um...

I've just heard that Stephen Ward,
sorry to interrupt,

has been interviewed by police
and has confirmed everything.

Introducing Profumo to the call girls,
the Russian spy, everything.

Well, well, well.

I think we can confidently expect
Profumo's resignation any minute.

And the government to fall apart
shortly thereafter.

You'll have to excuse me.
I'd better get to work.

All right.

So, it's a yes to Paris?

If you must.
I must.

Didn't you just get back
from an assignment in New York?

I did.
And Tokyo before that?

You don't think
some time at home would be good?

It would be if it were a home,
but it's a building site.

Her Royal Highness has decided to embark

upon a major refurbishment
of our apartment.

Only I thought I heard a happy rumor
that she might be expecting another baby.

You did. She is.

But in any marriage it's important to
find things that really bind you together,

as a couple.

And yours is?

Absence.

Hats off.

That's it.

Ma'am.

This one? I hate that. Grotesque.

I don't...

Hello.

...Thank you.

Yes, thank you very much. Thank you.

Your Highness.
Your Majesty.

Goodness. What?

The dining table
in the same room as the kitchen?

Yes.

I'm not quite sure what to make of that.

It's modern. It's egalitarian.

You're the least egalitarian person
that I know.

Well, that's not the nicest way
to congratulate me.

That is why you're here?
Congratulate you for what?

Mummy didn't tell you? I'm, uh...

Are you?
Yes.

Aw, that's lovely.
Thank you.

Due a few weeks after you.

That's wonderful.

But, no, that's, uh, not why I'm here.

I'm here to ask that on your way
to building this great, bright, modern

egalitarian home for
your growing family,

you might have a little more
consideration for your neighbors.

In terms of what?

I'm assuming noise and
general disruption.

Oh, I see.

And who sent you
on this ugly little mission?

Marina?
Yes.

She'd do well to remember her place.

As a low-ranking member
of your husband's refugee family,

she's lucky to be here at all.

I rest my case about egalitarian.

And it's not only her.
Oh, is it Alice?

That cantankerous old bat.

And the Kents and the Gloucesters.
Oh, I see.

The whole nasty, jealous circus,
cooped up in this ridiculous compound,

furious because we got
the largest apartment.

No one's furious about the apartment.
Incandescent.

Positively constipated with fury.

They're furious about the noise.

Because it represents rejuvenation,
modernization and change.

No, because it's inconsiderate,
selfish and deafening.

So, how is the baby so far?

Mm, it's uncomplicated, surprisingly.
How's yours?

Complicated.

They want me to take
it easier this time.

May I politely suggest you do?
Tell Philip to take some of the strain.

How is he?
Fine. Why?

Would you like to know a rumor
Tony and I heard?

No.
Oh, it is just a rumor.

But you can't deny...
there is a similarity.

Look.

You see?

That's the Minister of War.
He's just admitted it.

Profumo admitted the affair,
but he denied the photograph.

There is something of Philip in the...
shoulders.

The Prime Minister has asked to see you,
ma'am, as a matter of urgency.

It's the very worst kind of betrayal.

From somebody I never expected capable.

I'm sorry.

This dentist, Mr. Ward,
clearly has a lot to answer for.

Osteopath, ma'am.

Oh, well,
he seems to have orchestrated it all.

He may have orchestrated it,

but read the newspapers,
you'd think it's all my fault.

And for that reason,
I think it's only right

that I offer you my resignation.

What?

The integrity of your government
has been compromised.

As Prime Minister, I must accept
responsibility. I can't go on.

Yes, you can, Mr. Macmillan,
and you must.

I would urge you to go back and
unite your cabinet and my government.

Take charge of this country.

Go back to Downing Street,
Prime Minister, and pick up the reins.

The people of this
country need stability.

As do I, more than ever.

Ma'am?

The Duke of Edinburgh and I
are expecting again.

Congratulations, ma'am.

The situation is not
without its complications.

I will be taking a leave of absence
for several months, in Scotland.

The doctors have made it quite clear that
they'd like me to rest... completely.

To safeguard the pregnancy.

Which is why I need you
to hold the fort for the time being.

The Queen Mother can deputize
for ceremonial matters

until the child is born.

Of course.

Thank you.

Thank you, Prime Minister.

It would mean a great deal to me...

personally.

It was wonderful.

If they weren't sending up toffs...

they were having a go
at government corruption

or the hypocrisy of our bishops,

or having a dig at
the British war effort.

At one point
they even turned on the Queen.

The Queen?
It was really very funny.

We are also very much enthused

about our forthcoming trip
to India and Pakistan.

Prince Philip tells me
he is very much looking forward

to taking me up the Khyber Pass.

And then they came on to you.

Um, what are you most afraid of?

"The arrival of
the newspapers in the morning."

It's no use me trying to replicate it.
I'll never do it justice.

Was it cruel?
Not cruel, no.

Were people laughing?
Yes.

Did Boothby laugh?
Who said anything about Boothby?

I'm assuming it's who
you were there with. Did he laugh?

Yes.

Did you?

Yes. You should go.

See what's happening
to your bloody country.

John,
have you packed the swimming shorts?

Yes, sir, all packed. Good man.

Hello.

Ah, hello.

How nice. You're coming too?

Coming? Uh, no. I'm going.

Where? St. Moritz.

How mysterious.

You?

Balmoral.

Separate countries.

How apposite.

What does that mean?
Appropriate, suitable, fitting, apt.

I know what "apposite" means.

I mean, what are you trying to say?

Oh, don't worry about that.

You just enjoy the mountains, dear.

Scumbag!

Are you a traitor, Mr. Ward?

We have come from the very depths
of lechery and depravity in this case.

Prostitution, promiscuity, perversion.

The trouble and strife.

The fork and knife.

Duchess of Fife.

But they turtle-dove her.
Know what I mean?

What is this loose, despicable world
of Stephen Ward and his associates?

To look at their behavior,
it seems the values we once held dear,

decency, respect, trust,

are a thing of the past.

In my position as Prime Minister
of this great country,

I am frequently visited
by many great men

and often ask me
about what I am most afraid.

My answer?

Events, dear boy, events.

Autumn.

The arrival of the newspapers
in the morning.

Civilized society
is no longer civilized.

The ruling class has given up
on its responsibilities

and no longer sets the right example.

It has sunk instead
to a shrunken version of itself.

Do my eyes deceive me?

Is that really who I think it is,
staring back at me?

I've come to the theater tonight

because I've heard
that some cheeky young satirists

are making a living
doing impressions of me,

which is handy, because I'm told I leave
a terrible impression wherever I go.

To them I say, "Shame on you.
Shame on all of you."

Men like Ward deserve none of our pity.

They are deserving only of our contempt.

The time has finally come

to cut out the moral rot
at the heart of British society.

You will not convict the defendant

just because he was
at the center of all this depravity,

but because he was the
orchestrator of it.

Be in no doubt,
he is a thoroughly filthy fellow.

It is therefore
in the highest public interest

that you do your duty

and return a verdict of guilty

on this indictment.

Court adjourned
until nine a.m. tomorrow.

And that's confirmed?

Understood.

Your Majesty.

Yes, Michael.

Oh, do sit down.

Thank you, ma'am.

Um...

Well, we've made it perfectly clear
to all that inquire

that you're taking
an extended period of, uh, rest.

Uh, but sometimes people insist.
The British Horse Society, for example.

They're still struggling
with the approval of their, um...

Um, charitable status.
Um...

And they thought your intervention
might speed things up a bit.

Yes, just leave me the paperwork,
Michael.

And there are one or two urgent
royal warrants that require your assent.

Yes. Is that it?

I'm afraid not, ma'am. One more thing.

It's a little delicate. Um...

The man at the center
of the Profumo scandal.

Stephen Ward?

Right.

He's taken his own life.

Goodness.

At his practice, his home,

um...

the police found certain items,
among them a portrait,

a hand-drawn portrait done
by Mr. Ward himself of...

Of?

His Royal Highness
the Duke of Edinburgh, ma'am.

What?

Um...

It seems they knew one another.

The police also have witnesses
who saw His Royal Highness

arriving at Ward's house
on several occasions, ma'am.

And we were at a loss
for how to link them,

but then it became clear
that they were both members

of that same lunch club, ma'am.

Now, there is some concern

as to whether
there are any other portraits,

not to mention
all the studies for the portrait,

and that they may fall
into the wrong hands.

I see.

We'll manage the situation,
of course, ma'am, uh...

fight it off, hold back any press.

But I just thought you should be aware.

Yes, thank you, Michael.

Thank you, ma'am.

Resignation?

Yes, ma'am.

Sent in the mistaken belief
that his life was in immediate danger.

A subsequent biopsy
revealed the tumor to be benign.

But the Prime Minister
has had a difficult few months,

with one thing or another.

Is the Prime Minster well, Your Majesty?

The impression I get is...

that he's lost the appetite somewhat.

Your Majesty.

What for?

To go on.

Your Majesty.

Prime Minister. Ma'am. Shall we?

How are you, Prime Minister?

All the better for no longer being one.

I hope you haven't come to dissuade me.

The situation's quite hopeless.

That's not my understanding.

The doctors told me
that the tumor was benign.

It was the size of an orange.

While that causes inconvenience
and discomfort that largely...

I'll still require
a long period of convalescence,

not be in a fit state
to undertake the arduous duties as PM.

I'm afraid my decision
to resign is final.

That's very disappointing,
especially after our conversation.

As to who should succeed me,

as sovereign you have
the prerogative to consult,

but there's only one man, in my opinion.

The Earl of Home.
Alec?

Yes, we're all very fond of him, but...
He's the right man.

A decade younger than me,
steel painted as wood,

and the old governing class at its best.

I would call Alec to the palace
right away, ma'am.

No sense dragging things out.

Is that an order, Mr. Macmillan?

It would be my advice, ma'am.

Do you know,
I've been Queen barely ten years.

And in that time
I've had three Prime Ministers.

All of them ambitious men,

clever men, brilliant men.

Not one has lasted the course.

They've either been too old,
too ill or too weak.

A confederacy of elected quitters.

Your Majesty.

Get out the bloody way, you moron!

...Pillock.

Get out of the way.

Ah.

Tony.
Dear boy.

What are you doing here?

I could ask you
the same question in reverse.

What were you not doing here?

In case you hadn't noticed,

your wife has just appointed
a close family chum as Prime Minister

on the advice of a man
who had no right to give that advice

since he was no longer in office.

It's blown up in her face somewhat.

We came to see if she was all right.

But she's already left.

Bolted back to the safety of Scotland.

Tony.

So where were you,
you mysterious fellow?

St. Moritz at one point, I heard.

Yes.

That was a bit careless.
Just use me next time.

I'd always cover for you, you know.
Boys' honor and all that.

Come on!

I'm coming.

Fuck.

Ah!

Oh!

Good boy.

Here you are.
The idea was to be alone.

And hello to you too.

Fine. If you want me...

I'll be in the main house.

Hello?

Hello?

This is most unlike you.

On the contrary.

This is the most like me
I've been in years.

I understand
the Prime Minister's resignation

and all that.
It's not just the Prime Minister.

And your mother.

And your sister, and the children.

And the extended family.

And the Church and the Commonwealth
and the country.

The whole ghastly
relentlessness of it all.

The fact it never stops,
not for a minute. I understand all that.

Do you really?
I do.

But is it not possible
that among all those problems

and all those things
that are driving you mad,

there are some of us
who are there for you no matter what,

come what may?

If only.

What's that supposed to mean?
It means exactly that.

If only.

Don't punish me with silence.

If you have a charge to make,
come on, be a grown-up, make it.

All right.

Stephen Ward.

Who?

The osteopath.

Yeah, dreadful man. What about him?

In the aftermath of his suicide,
while searching his home,

detectives found a portrait,
painted by him, of you.

I have no explanation for that.

There were more.

They had to be tracked down
and reacquired, at great expense.

Can you imagine what would have happened

if the newspapers
had got hold of them first?

They must've been done from photographs,
not private sittings.

But you don't deny knowing him?
He treated my neck.

It's what osteopaths do.
And procure women.

Not for me. I met him a
couple of times as a patient.

He talked the most ludicrous nonsense
about tension and emotions,

so, I went to an old navy fellow instead

who slapped me about a bit
and sorted it out straightaway.

So he never invited you
to stay for the weekend?

He may have.

I certainly never went.

And the mystery man in the newspapers?

That isn't you?
Don't be ridiculous.

I am not being ridiculous.

You are a mystery man to me.

Half the time I don't know
where you are or what you're doing.

All you need to do is ask.
Look...

I'm strong. You know that.

And I can cope with the truth.

I just demand to know the truth.

It's when people don't tell me the truth
that I can't bear it.

Your recent trip to Switzerland,
which you claimed was in aid of...

Dolphins.

Do you really expect anyone
to believe that?

Switzerland's landlocked,

and St. Moritz is a winter playground
for millionaires and harlots.

Switzerland also happens
to be the headquarters

for the World Wildlife Fund,
of which I'm patron.

But I can see that this is a question
of, of appearance versus reality.

No, because some things
can only be perceived one way

because they only have one meaning.

Such as?

Such as?

There are two types of people in life.

Those whom one imagines to be
trustworthy and reliable,

who turn out to be treacherous and weak,
like Mr. Macmillan.

And those who appear
to be complex and difficult,

who turn out to be
more dependable than anyone thought.

Like me.

I know exactly what my job is.
Your father made it perfectly clear.

You are my job.

You are the essence of my duty.

So here I am.

Liegeman of life and limb.

In, not out.

Philip.

We're both adults.

And I think we're both realists.

We both know that marriage is a
challenge, under any circumstances.

So I can understand...

if sometimes, in order to let off steam,

in order to stay in...

you need to do what you need to do.

I can look the other way.
Yes, I know you can look the other way.

You've raised looking the other way
into an art form.

I'm saying I don't want you to.

You can look this way.

I'm yours.

In.

And not because you've given me a title,
not because we've come to an agreement.

But because I want to be.

Because I love you.

Amen

Amen

Amen

Amen

- Amen

Amen

Amen Push. And push.

Amen

Amen

In the name of the Father
and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost.

"This Earth of majesty,
this seat of Mars..."

Amen.

"This other Eden,

demi-paradise.

This fortress built
by Nature for herself

Against infection and
the hand of war..."

And towards me, everyone.
And this is wonderful, and...

Charles, we're going to look...

Charles, look.

Gloucesters, Kents.

Can we at least have
some element in focus?

For Christ's sake!

Take the photo.

"This happy breed of men,
this little world.

This blessed plot, this earth,
this realm, this England."

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