All language subtitles for The.Crown.S05E04.1080p.NF.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.H.264-SMURF

Gentlemen of the Honorable
Artillery Company, royal salute!

It's not often that
Queen Elizabeth II lets the world know

her innermost thoughts and feelings,

but at a lunch, today at the Guildhall
to celebrate 40 years on the throne,

she did precisely that.

Please be upstanding
for Her Majesty the Queen!

Her voice still hoarse
from inhaling smoke

and laboring under the weight of a cold,

she delivered an unprecedentedly
frank expression

of personal sadness and regret.

The stark admission of failure
and a horrible year for the royal family

could be seen as a plea
for sympathy and forgiveness

after what can only be described
as a turbulent 12 months.

But if it was public sympathy
and forgiveness

Her Majesty was hoping for,
it might not be what she gets.

That was "Abide With Me,"

performed by the choir
of King's College Cambridge,

conducted by Stephen Cleobury,

as chosen by today's guest,
Her Royal Highness, Princess Margaret.

Why did you choose it?
What is the significance of it?

It's a hymn,
so I would have thought

the significance would have been obvious.

My faith.

Without faith, you might as well say
you've given up, and I haven't.

Faith has always informed
every decision I've made.

In your royal life,
or your personal life as well?

When you have a sister who is
Supreme Governor of the Church of England

and Defender of the Faith,

it's sometimes a little difficult
to separate the two.

What is the next record?

That's enough.

I said that's enough!

Imbecile.

That was an excerpt
from Tchaikovsky's "Swan Lake"

performed by
the London Symphony Orchestra,

conducted by André Previn.

And the significance of that?

Well, I've always had
a special love for the ballet.

There are some things
one cannot express in words,

and dance is a language of its own.

And, of course,
I used to enjoy dancing myself.

Never ballet though.

Any favorite dance partners
over the years?

I certainly won't be disclosing that.

In any case, such exertions
are best left to the young.

One always has one's memories.

Tell us about your next choice.

"Stardust" by Hoagy Carmichael.

You play the piano yourself, of course.

Yes, I had lessons from a young age.

My sister had lessons
in Constitutional History,

and... I had piano.

Is music your first love?

One has many first loves.

When one reaches a certain age,

one cannot help embarking
on an audit of the heart.

A review.

And one considers all those... loves,

those dreams, and youthful passions,

in the context of a whole life.

And it's interesting to note what endures.

There are some that remain
and become lasting loves...

...and some that fade,

and one realizes
were probably never true loves at all.

Thankfully,

music has been a constant in my life,
and I expect it shall remain so.

Does this final record
have any special meaning for you?

It does have
special meaning, yes.

And that is?

Let's leave it at that.

This is "Stardust"
by Hoagy Carmichael.

♪ Sometimes I wonder ♪

♪ Why I spend the lonely night ♪

♪ Dreaming of a song ♪

♪ The melody ♪

♪ Haunts my reverie ♪

♪ And I am once again with you ♪

♪ Though I dream in vain ♪

♪ In my heart it will remain ♪

♪ My stardust melody ♪

♪ The memory of love's refrain ♪

♪ Though I dream in vain ♪

♪ In my heart it will remain ♪

♪ My stardust melody ♪

♪ The memory of love's refrain ♪

Dear Margaret, it is possible
this letter will come as a nasty intrusion

rather than a pleasant surprise.

I am planning a rare visit to London
from the Île-de-France

and found myself wondering
if you had any plans

to attend the reception next week
at The Caledonian Club.

"...for the crew
who served on HMS Vanguard."

Oh, Peter Townsend.

Yes.

When was the last time you heard from him?

Oh, it must be 35 years ago.

Isn't HMS Vanguard where you and Peter...

Fell in love.

Not sure it was love at the beginning.

But of course, it was love.

At the very first glance.

If you say so.

I do.

The love of my life.

The tour of Southern Africa.

First time either of us had been abroad,
so that must have been...

1947.

Philip had just proposed.
I'd said, "Yes, please."

Papa said, "Not so fast."
Whisked us off on a three-month tour.

Hoping you would come to your senses.

Fat chance.

Meanwhile, I was losing my senses

on early morning rides
with Papa's dashing equerry.

Yes.
His dashing married equerry.

Peter was such a good horseman.

I dare say.

So,

what do you imagine he wants?

Must be in his late seventies now.
And long married.

Yes.

Happily married, one hears.

With children.

And grandchildren.

Will you go?

I think I might.

Why? What's it to you?

His Royal Highness, Prince Andrew.

Mummy.

Darling.

Mmm.

Thank you for agreeing to this.

I asked them to put out some tea.

You might want something
stronger than that.

I've, uh...

I've come to talk about my marriage.

The thing is, I actually have
some sympathy for her regarding Wyatt.

He was a bit rough round the edges,
American, of course,

but I'd been away so much with the Navy,

it's not surprising
Sarah felt a bit neglected.

I mean, all things considered,
Steve was actually a pretty decent bloke.

Who was carrying on with your wife.

Not anymore, Mummy.

He's out.

Gone.

Good.

But there's another one now.

A financial adviser, John Bryan.

Oh, for heaven's sake.

With... more photographs to come.

Of what?

You don't want to know.

In Saint-Tropez.
Doing something unmentionable.

You're right. I don't want to know.

Sucking Sarah's toes, Mummy.

What?

I know!

People tell me
I put my foot in it from time to time.

At least I don't put it
in someone's mouth.

Can you imagine?

Her actual foot.

If he was that hungry,
he could've ordered a sandwich.

- Or some sole.
- Sole!

- That's brilliant.
- 4

It's...

It's just the sheer humiliation of it all.

Which is why, this time,

I'm left with no option but to,

well, mention the D-word.

Diplomacy?

Détente?

Is it asking too much to say "duty"?

Divorce, Mummy.

Oh, darling.

She's had enough.

And I don't blame her.

- I blame us.
- What?

We all knew what we were getting into
when we brought Sarah into the family.

Everyone was so pro. You more than anyone.

Yes.

She was a breath of fresh air.

Modern, relatable, buckets of fun.

- That laugh.
- So infectious.

Yes.

But that's what we do in this family.

Destroy anyone that's different.

Not at the beginning.

First, we tell ourselves
how good they'll be for the system.

They'll be our salvation,
our secret weapon.

Make us look more modern. More normal.

More

human.

And we learn
the same painful lessons yet again.

That no one with any character,
originality, spark, wit, and flare

has a place in this system.

Dear Peter, it was
a great pleasure to hear from you again,

and I look forward
to seeing you on the 7th.

I would say keep your eyes open
for a diminutive, 60-year-old prune,

but mercifully,
time hasn't touched me at all,

and I'm entirely unchanged
since our last meeting in 1955.

Margaret!

- Martin.
- Your Royal Highness.

Please. This way.

...you may remember
accompanying us on the tour.

- How lovely to see you again.
- And you.

Roger Carter.

Harold Armstrong Scott.

- How lovely to see you again.
- And you.

- Marcus Moore.
- Ma'am.

And the former equerry
to His Majesty the King.

Your Royal Highness.

Peter.

...having danced a little too vigorously
with the princesses,

joined in with the festivities,
I, and I expect the rest of you,

will never forget the beauty
of the Drakensberg Mountains,

Victoria Falls,

endless deserted beaches...

Oh, as well as the Port Elizabeth's...

Ah!

Aunt Margot.

Well, he's certainly put
some color in your cheeks.

Does he have a name?

- Tim.
- Mmm.

Does he make you happy?

Are you in love?

I think I am.

- Hm.
- Does everyone disapprove?

Almost certainly.

Then dig in.

Fight for him.

Ah, this song.

- And that's my cue to leave.
- Are you going so soon?

Yes. Goodbye, darling.

- Safe journey home, Margot.
- Mmm. Mm.

This song
used to be your cue to stay.

I know, but I...

I'm afraid I must insist.

That was lovely.

I hope we don't leave it another 40 years
before meeting again.

Well, as it happens,

I shall be back in London soon.

And there are some things
I'd like to return to you.

Your letters.

- Oh!
- Not as a rejection.

I kept them all.

Reading them,
it took me back to that time.

And I thought, "They're so precious."

I'm not getting any younger,
and if anything should happen,

I'd hate to see them fall
into the wrong hands, so I...

Well, I thought better with you.

That's very thoughtful of you.

As it happens,
I kept all your letters too.

Every one of them.

Good night, Peter.

Good night, Your Royal Highness.

The Princess Royal, Your Majesty.

Hello, darling.

Mummy.

Oh.

My book.

Almost finished.

So many other riveting things to read too.

Don't.

Anyway...

I'm here to talk about Tim.

Tim?

Commander Laurence?

Oh.

Are you two still...

We are.

And I'm here to say
we intend for it to be permanent.

As in, till death do us part.

What?

You hardly know one another.

Almost three years, Mummy.

And the ink is barely dry
on your divorce from Mark.

And in the climate we find ourselves.

With so much scrutiny on the family.

Are you sure it wouldn't be wise to... wait?

- Wait?
- Just a little.

Darling, I'm glad you've found happiness.

I know how difficult it was
in the end with Mark.

But of all the families
you could have been born into,

fate has endowed you with this one,
with everything that goes with it.

Including the fact that your mother is
Supreme Governor of the Church of England

and remarriage when the first husband
is still alive, as you well know,

is not only frowned upon, it is forbidden.

I, of all people,

hardly need reminding of
the requirements of being in this family.

I have dedicated myself to my role.
Bent myself into shape.

Placed duty above all else.

Including, more often than not,
my own happiness.

Five engagements a day.

Three hundred days a year,
for the past 24 years.

Well,

you cannot have all of me.

And I will not give all of me.

And I will marry Tim.

In you go. In you go. Good girl.

- How was that?
- Fine.

- Let's just go.
- Wait.

♪ Sometimes I wonder ♪

♪ Why I spend the lonely night ♪

♪ Dreaming of a song ♪

♪ The melody ♪

♪ Haunts my reverie ♪

♪ And I am once again with you ♪

♪ Though I dream in vain ♪

♪ In my heart it will remain ♪

♪ My stardust melody... ♪

Your Royal Highness, as requested,

I will be accompanying you on a short ride
to Craigowan Lodge tomorrow,

weather permitting.

Group Captain Peter Townsend.

Your Royal Highness,

I've been meaning to thank you
for your kindness in Balmoral.

You may have thought
your kind act went unnoticed,

camouflaged as you were

in your green tartan skirt
and tweed jacket.

It did not.

My darling Margaret,

it was reckless of you
to visit me in my office today.

♪ My stardust melody ♪

♪ The memory of love's refrain ♪

Reckless and magnificent.

I do love you so.

Darling Margaret,

it seems the world has intruded
our private Eden

and wants to forbid our love.

They're banishing me.

Sending me away like a criminal.

I hate to think of you suffering.

A creature made for happiness.

Put hold to our pact.

Stay true to one another
in spite of everything.

Margaret, I write to you
with a heavy heart.

I have just returned to Brussels
from a year abroad around the world.

A young woman named Marie-Luce

accompanied me on this trip
as my secretary and photographer.

Her companionship has been
one of the few joys in my life.

I have decided to ask her to marry me.

I know you will feel betrayed
by this decision.

Prince Harming,
they're calling me now.

Amid endless other calumnies and lies.

I know you've always tried to see
both sides of the marriage,

but will you now, finally, agree

that official separation
is the only sensible course?

Charles.

If it were just incompatibility
or infidelity, that would be one thing,

but the sheer vindictiveness
of that Morton book.

And then the temerity to insist
that she had nothing to do with it.

I've... I've done as you asked, Mummy. I...

I've tried to make it work... for 11 years...
but there comes a point...

I have been no stranger this year
to my children's marital difficulties.

But while Anne's and Andrew's problems
are deeply distressing,

yours are in a category of their own
because you, as future king,

are in a category of your own.

At my coronation, I took an oath
that you will one day take at yours

to maintain the laws of God.

And God's law
is that marriage is for life.

And while it is expected for the monarch
to be married and produce an heir,

being happily married is a preference
rather than a requirement.

You also took a solemn promise
to maintain and protect the Crown.

Diana won't rest
until she's blown the whole thing up.

Is that what you want?

It's funny, isn't it? I...

For years, I've called for a more modern
monarchy that reflects the world outside.

Look at the rates of family breakdown
out there, and then look at us.

Margaret, divorced.

Anne, divorced.

All right.

Andrew, humiliated and...
and heading for divorce.

Me, trapped and dreaming of divorce.
And you talk about moral examples.

If we were an... ordinary family
and social services came to visit,

they'd have thrown us into care
and you into jail!

That's enough.

We got our modern monarchy all right.

Just not in the way we hoped.

It begins to look like
parental failure of the gravest kind.

Yet, the Duke of Edinburgh and I
could not have been more clear

with the children about how important
we consider marriage to be.

I have every sympathy.

My own daughter is divorced.

My son is separated.

All we can do is ask for God's guidance.

How did it come to this?

Our generation was brought up
to believe that marriage was an ideal,

and divorce was a problem.

This generation...

Yes.

But the prince and princess
are not yet separated.

There is still hope of reconciliation.

And we all pray for it.

We do.

Daily.

Reports are coming in
of a fire at Windsor Castle...

...one eyewitness said
flames and smoke are visible

from the roof of the northeast wing...

...Her Majesty is
being kept informed of the operation,

and it's understood
that she's on her way to the scene.

It went up like a tinderbox.

Those were the words
of one observer about this blaze

which, despite the efforts
of the fire service,

still shows no signs
of being brought under control.

The entire north terrace
is ravaged by flames.

Fire crews are working determinedly
to stop them spreading

and destroying some of Britain's
most priceless treasures.

It's now about six hours
since this fire started,

and much of the top left-hand side
of Windsor Castle is still on fire,

still burning.

The destruction inside,
I'm told, is absolutely enormous.

Ceilings have come down, smoke damage,
fire damage, water damage.

I was talking to one of the Queen's aides,

and I asked him what she felt
about what had happened

and what her mood about it was,
and he said that she's like any mother

watching her own home burn down.

She's obviously absolutely devastated.

People are just absolutely stunned
by what's happening around them.

Mm.

The Rembrandt?

Saved.

The Rubens?

Thank God, saved.

And the Leonardo.

But tragically, more than a hundred rooms,

including nine staterooms, destroyed.

What about the Crimson Drawing Room?

Dare I ask?

I'm surprised you remember it.

Of course I remember it.

Everyone had gone up to London
for some ceremony or other.

It was the Maundy service at St. Paul's.

Leaving us alone.

Mm.

We spent a whole afternoon
in the Crimson Room,

locked in conversation.

Yes.

Whatever were we talking about?

Everything and nothing, I suppose.

Not nothing.

As I remember, we were
excitedly making plans for our future.

Hmm.

With such certainty and conviction.

Like those plans,

I'm afraid the Crimson Room
did not survive.

How sad.

Yes.

I'm curious.

What made you write to me
after all that time?

No life goes on forever.

Recently, I had that made clear to me
by my doctor.

Oh.

Peter, I'm so sorry.

Around the same time,
I heard a radio interview with you,

and I suppose I wanted to know

if our love,

in the context of a whole life,

had been a fleeting one...

or a lasting one.

...face intense questioning
over how the restoration bill will be met.

Some Labour MPs say
the Queen, not taxpayers,

should pay for all repair work.

The monarchy
can't have it always a one-way system

under which we,
the taxpayers, pick up the bills,

but they refuse to be
taxpayers themselves.

Neither the building
nor its contents were insured.

Good time? Bad time?

...may be launched. Offers of help...

The very worst of times.

Any idea how it started?

The great metaphor?

I mean, fire.

A spotlight blew a fuse or something.

In the private chapel.
All very innocent.

Or was it?

Like one of those

Agatha Christie mysteries.

One can imagine multiple suspects,

each with their own perfectly
plausible motive to burn the place down.

Who?

My neighbor, for one.

Diana?

Frustrated after years of neglect,

she decides to take the matter
into her own hands.

Though arson probably
isn't violent enough for her.

She'd prefer an atomic bomb.

Hasn't she detonated that already?

Andrew, the Duke of York.

Furious at his own mother

for having led him to believe
his whole life

that he was irresistible and invulnerable,

only to discover his principal role
is to be humiliated.

Me.

You?

You don't think I have reason
to burn down my sister's home?

Why would you do that?

Because of what she denied me.

Peter Townsend.

What?

Without sun and water...

crops fail,

Lilibet.

Let me ask. How many times
has Philip... done something?

Intervened when you couldn't?

Be strong when you couldn't be?

Be angry when you couldn't be?

Be decisive when you couldn't be?

How many times have you said
a silent prayer of gratitude for him

and thought, "If I didn't have him,
I'd never be able to do it?" How often?

Peter was my sun.

My water.

And you denied me him.

I denied you as Queen, not as your sister.

The conditions are irrelevant.
The prohibition is what counts.

A prohibition, incidentally,
you are not now extending to Anne.

- That is different.
- How is it different?

Anne is a royal princess with no prospect
of acceding to the throne, as was I.

Commander Laurence is a palace equerry,
marrying scandalously above his station.

Peter was a palace equerry,
hoping to marry scandalously above his.

Anne and Commander Laurence are in love.
Peter and I were in love.

In both cases, one party is a divorcee.

The situation is identical
in every way except for the outcome.

She is being allowed to marry him.

I wasn't.

Her story ends happily.

Mine did not.

And yet, even after... 40 years,

you cannot bring yourself
to acknowledge what happened to me

and the part you played in it.

Thank you, Peggy.

- Your Majesty.
- Mummy?

That's a surprise.
I'd been told you're unwell.

- It's... just a cold.
- I heard fever.

In which case,
the only sensible course is bed rest.

It's a lunch to celebrate me.

- I can't pull out.
- Yes, you can.

And I don't want to pull out.

I've also
taken a look at the speech.

You know the three questions
we always ask ourselves.

Does it need saying?

Does it need saying now?

Does it need saying by me?

And to describe it in this way,
annus horribilis?

People will remark on it.

Not just because of
the theatrical deviation into Latin.

What's your point?

My point, since we're speaking Latin now,

is tempus fugit.

Time passes.
People will move on and forget.

Make a statement like this,
no one will forget.

Quite apart from the fact
it's an expression of personal sentiment.

- The kind of which we do not make.
- Mummy...

And it could also be interpreted

as an admission of our failings,
which will only encourage further attacks.

It has been, by some margin,
the worst year of my reign.

Quite possibly my life.
I'm happy for people to know.

Know what? That their Queen is depressed?

That I'm made of flesh and blood.

And that perhaps I ha-- we have
fallen short in our duty as a family,

and owe them an apology.

Apology?

That word shouldn't be in your vocabulary.

Monarchy is the only part
of the constitution

with an element of the divine.

When you wear the crown,
you are transfigured.

Apologizing sullies
not just your dignity but God's,

whose will it is that you are who you are.

I'm not sure if there's anything
to be gained by that.

Yes, there is.

Her peace of mind.

She's done God's will
about as immaculately as any human

for the past 40 years.

She's earned the right
to say anything she likes.

And it's our job to support her.

- Unconditionally.
- Since when have you sung that tune?

Since day one, he's sung that tune.

Day one.

Now, if you don't mind.

We're due at the Guildhall.

Gentlemen of the Honorable
Artillery Company, royal salute!

Please be upstanding
for Her Majesty the Queen.

My Lord Mayor,

the anniversary of any occasion

is a time to reflect.

But in light of the events
of the last 12 months,

perhaps I have more
to reflect on than most.

1992 is not a year

on which I shall look back
with undiluted pleasure.

It has turned out to be
an annus horribilis.

No institution
is beyond reproach.

And no member of it either.

The high standards we in the monarchy
are held to by the public

must be the same benchmark
to which we hold ourselves personally.

If we can't admit the errors of our past,

what hope for reconciliation can there be?

Today,

I'd like to pay tribute,
if I may, to my family.

Throughout the four decades
I have been on the throne,

they have quite literally been

my sun and water.

For all the sacrifices they have made...

indeed, to all of you here,

whose prayers and well wishes

have been a source of strength to me

these last 40 years,

I say thank you.

Please be upstanding
for Her Majesty the Queen!

- Annus horribilis?
- It has been, for all of you.

And I can see much of that
has been my fault.

For the record,

no one blames you.

On the contrary,
everyone blames me all of the time.

And you're right to.

This system, of which the sovereign
is the principal beneficiary,

is horribly hard on the rest of you.

You too.

But that's the job. Let's face it.

Thank you.
Come and have lunch here tomorrow.

We could get a little bit tipsy.

Make light of it all.

The fire, the job.

The children.

Peter Townsend.

I'd love to.

But, sadly, I'm going to Carlisle
to open a business park.

- Then Penrith.
- Oh!

For the Scots Guard Association.

Then Kirkby Stephen in Cumbria
to visit the Factory of Heredities.

Then I'll have to get sloshed on my own.

With Rum.

Rum?

You're not drinking rum like some pirate?

No! Rum!

My dog.

Oh.

That's funny.

I'm here with Brandy and Sherry.

Mm, what does that say about us?

Good night, Lilibet.

I do love you.

I love you too.

Very much.

God, that was middle-class.
Promise me we'll never do that again.

Never.

- Good night.
- Good night.

♪ Sometimes I wonder ♪

♪ Why I spend the lonely night ♪

♪ Dreaming of a song ♪

♪ The melody ♪

♪ Haunts my reverie ♪

♪ And I am once again with you ♪

♪ When our love was new ♪

♪ And each kiss an inspiration ♪

♪ Oh, but that was long ago ♪

♪ Now my consolation ♪

♪ Is in the stardust of a song ♪

♪ Beside a garden wall ♪

♪ When stars are bright ♪

♪ You are in my arms ♪

♪ The nightingale ♪

♪ Tells his fairy tale ♪

♪ Of paradise where roses grew ♪

♪ Though I dream in vain ♪

♪ In my heart it will remain ♪

♪ My stardust melody ♪

♪ The memory of love's refrain ♪