All language subtitles for To Play the King.S01E03

I do enjoy these visits to the Palace.

A glass of sherry, a
little verbal fencing,

and a bracing dose of hatred
and contempt. Most invigorating.

And today a little extra treat -
no, I won't spoil it. Wait and see.

- Do go in, Mr. Urquhart.
- Thank you. Hello, Mycroft.

- He's onto something.
- What did he say?

Nothing. Just that smile of his.
Crocodiles smile like that.

It's some weeks now
since you hinted at a general election.

- Yes, Sir.
- I'd be glad of some idea of the date.

I'm sure you would, yes.

And you will be
the first to be informed,

but there are some imponderables

and parliamentary
business to be enacted.

- What business, if I may ask?
- Of course you may, Sir.

We... We thought about taking
another look at the Civil List,

amongst other things.

After a full-scale
review only a year ago?

Yes, we thought about
having another look.

- I trust you're not being vindictive.
- Not at all, Sir.

Far be it from us to lop another million
off a deserving royal family

on the pretext of babies
starving in the streets

That sort of cheap remark's
unworthy of you.

I hear you've been having secret talks
with Opposition leaders

and one or two of the less trustworthy
members of my own party.

I have a perfect right.
It is my duty to inform myself

of all shades of political opinion.

That hardly extends
to conspiring in Chelsea restaurants

and trying to organise a bloodless coup
against the elected government, does it?

Consultation doesn't mean conspiracy.

- It isn't a criminal activity, is it?
- We know what you've been up to.

And my advice on that little venture
is pack it in. It won't work.

- It'll all end in tears.
- What are you frightened of?

If my views are wrong,
they'll be seen to be wrong.

If not, you should welcome them.

I understand you're preparing
a television programme now.

- May I see a copy of the text?
- No. It's still in preparation.

I should think very carefully
about all this, if I were you, Sir.

Well, I have done, Prime Minister,
and I shall continue to do so.

What I would prefer is
that he'd give up thinking.

Kings aren't supposed to think.

It was a great mistake
sending him to university

with architects, philosophers

and comely young black activists.

- Thank you, Miss Carmichael.
- A pleasure.

He's far too fond of
the sound of his own voice.

The trouble is, others like it too.

I do hate confrontations.
Somebody always gets hurt.

Time for a visit
to the House of Wounded Feelings.

We have to keep our options open.

- Your Royal Highness.
- Mr. Urquhart.

What do you want this time?

To assure you of my government's
continuing interest in your welfare.

And to inquire if there is any way
in which I could be of service to you.

Thank you. Look,

it's very good of you
to take the trouble,

but are you planning to spend

one of those meaningless
half-hours saying nothing?

If you were planning
something like that,

I'd just as soon leave it out.

- I've sort of had all that.
- Yes, indeed.

Yes, indeed.

Thank you.

Any chance of my asking simple questions
and getting straight answers?

- You could try, ma'am.
- I want to know what he's up to.

In my view,
he's playing a dangerous game.

He's playing politics.

His usual Line,
but he's taking it further.

He's coming into direct conflict
with the elected government.

And his advisors,
who should be restraining him,

seem to be egging him on.

I take it you no longer
have any influence there?

- I never had.
- Pity.

- Or anywhere else.
- There you are too modest.

What's going to happen, Mr. Urquhart?

I'm afraid that by his actions
His Majesty is going to injure himself.

You mean you're going to injure him.

Do you really want
to destroy the monarchy?

I do not want to destroy the monarchy.
You have nothing to fear from me.

Nor does your son.
You need friends, ma'am.

You need strong friends
whom you can trust.

I sought no quarrel with your husband.

I wished to be his friend
and now I wish to be yours.

The breach between him and me
can be healed if he wills it.

Whether he does or not,
you and your son will not suffer.

I think you understand me, don't you?

Yes, I do.

But can I trust you?

You know you can.

- Mother?
- Yes, darling?

I VOW TO THEE, MY COUNTRY)

''Look, stranger, on this island.

''Now the leaping light
for your delight discovers.

''Stand stable here and silent be,
That, through the channel of the ear,

''May wander like a river
The swaying sound of the sea.''

I love my country,
but I fear for what is happening to it.

Pollution is the word
that comes to mind.

- Wow! That's really, really bad news.
- Oh, come on, Charlie.

- The man's telling the truth.
- Oh, Quilly, what do you know?

The man's making a stand.
Got to respect that.

Pollution in the most literal
sense of our seas and rivers,

of our roads, our cities,

caused by cynical exploitation
of natural resources,

but also a deeper,
more insidious form of pollution.

Moral pollution.

What one might almost call
pollution of the soul.

This permits the cynical exploitation
of human resources,

the waste of human talent,
the destruction by design or by neglect

of human hopes and aspirations.

The erosion of human dignity

and those values I have always felt

to be peculiarly ours,
ours in these islands.

The values of fairness,
of human kindness,

that sense that we are all equal
in the eyes of God.

That to be human means
to be bound together

in mutual trust and dependency.

That sense that what
will survive of us is love.

Love in its broadest sense.

Nowadays I find that I sleep badly.

And my waking hours are troubled
by a pervasive sense of unease.

There is a new spirit abroad,

a deeply disturbing
and depressing spirit.

We are beginning not to care
about each other anymore.

Some of us who have jobs and homes
and money regard the unemployed

as a little less human than ourselves,

the homeless as a little less human
than ourselves,

the very poor as a little less human
than ourselves.

We begin not to notice them,
to harden our hearts,

even to blame them for their hardship

as if they weren't quite human,

as if they didn't feel pain and hunger
quite as we do, but they do. They do.

I don't want to rule over
a country where people

don't care about each other.

I'm not a political animal,
but it seems to me

that we must find a new way

to live together in this land of ours.

Things are going to have to change,
I want to be part of that change.

Let us begin to make that change...now.

The excitement outside
10 Downing Street

is scarcely less than
that outside the Palace.

The King's broadcast has brought out
a truly extraordinary public response.

Crowds are out in the streets
in London and all major cities

in support of the King's opposition

to Francis Urquhart's
hard-line policies on welfare.

We're just waiting now
for the Prime Minister

to arrive from Chequers.

And here he comes now.

Good morning!
Nice to see you up so early.

- Could you give me a few words?
- Happy to.

Is there a complete breakdown
between the Palace and Downing Street

following the King's savage criticisms?

Absolute nonsense. His Majesty
and I enjoy excellent relations

based on a free
and frank exchange of views.

That is not the way it's being seen
by Buckingham Palace.

- They see it as close to civil war.
- They may think that if they're silly.

Here's the way I see it.

His Majesty is as much entitled
to his views as you or I.

He's an idealist.
I like him all the better for it.

He's actually a very nice man.

- I want a full report on this!
- Which aspect?

- All aspects. Where's Mr. Stamper?
- Waiting for you. And Mrs. Harding.

Right. I want no calls
for the next hour.

Out! Out!

- What's the damage?
- We've underestimated him.

- It was first-class propaganda.
- What are the polls saying?

- 10% swing against the government.
- 10%?

People are so very fickle. They don't
appreciate what I've done for them.

It's just a temporary blip.

Come the election,
they'll vote for low taxes.

I hope they will, Tim.

So far your efforts have
been remarkably unsuccessful.

What is Brynford-Jones playing at?!
''Time for a change of heart''!

I thought he was neutered!

Bullerby's rag has lost its
brains! ''King of hearts''!

- Well, you know the pit bull...
- No, I left that to you.

I'm extremely disappointed!

You can have my resignation any time.

I just want you to do the job
I thought you were capable of!

Could we have a word in private?

No, I don't think
that'll be necessary.

And I've got rather
a lot to do this morning.

Perhaps we should
consider the possibility

SDthat he may be in the right.

Stamper?

The King.

He may be right, Sarah.

But he's not right.

What he said had no
intellectual content, no thought.

It's compassion babble.

Go on.

Well, no one likes distress and poverty.

But he'd plunge
the whole country back into debt.

We'd be back into subsidising
indolence and apathy,

Dand penalising talent and industry.

He's put it on the agenda, though.
Compassion, I mean.

He's really done it, I'm afraid.
Compassion's here to stay.

Is he, um, very angry?

You could say that,

yes Forget about that
knighthood, for a start.

Do you know, I don't think

I thought about that at all
when I was writing that leader.

I feel quite proud of that,
in a way. Ah, well.

Trouble is, unless you toe the line now,
that other business has to come out.

What other business?

You indecently exposing yourself
on Stirling railway station!

- Stamper, for pity's sake!
- Nothing personal. Rules of the game.

But the heat's on now.
He's calling in all favours.

FU's on the warpath

and the price of coffins is gonna raise!

''Huckleberry Finn.'' The only book
I ever read right through at school.

Or later, come to that.

And a total waste of time that was, too.

Do you ever wonder
if the whole game's worth the candle?

- Almost every day now, Tim.
- Really?

He can be such a swine, Bryan.

I don't think he appreciates
how much he owes to me.

Do you ever think about the future,
Tim?

The next PM taking over from FU?

Not anymore. Not enough of a power base.

Who's heard of me? I spent
my whole political Life

as Urquhart's stooge.

Some of us appreciate
your qualities, Tim,

and would support you,
if the opportunity arose.

No one's invulnerable.

That's true. Thanks, Bryan.

Who knows, eh?

What did you talk about with her?

Did you talk about politics?

Sometimes.

I used to let her ask me questions.
It was a sort of game we had.

Do you mind me asking about her?

I'd rather you asked me
than anyone else.

Did you love her very much?

Do you wish it was her here now,
not me? Don't answer that.

- Sarah...
- Forget it. It's all right, forget it.

I feel stifled.

I feel as if I'd like

to open the curtain and stand
at the window. Looking out.

What is it you want to see?

Nothing. I'd just like
to be able to do it.

Don't worry, I wasn't going to do it.
You don't have to worry about me.

I think I'll go home now.
Is that all right?

Of course, if that's
what you want to do.

- I think I should.
- You're not regretting this?

Oh, no.

It's not easy,
but I'm not regretting it.

It's all far too interesting for that.

I think it's the most interesting
thing I've ever done.

- Good.
- You mustn't worry, Francis.

I told you I want to learn
everything I can from you.

And then you'll leave me.

Well, nothing lasts forever, does it?

I think I'd better take a shower.
I must absolutely reek of you.

I don't think Andrew
would approve. That OK?

Of course.

No, it isn't easy.
It is interesting, but it isn't easy.

So many people gather in these rooms
where lovers meet, so many ghosts,

so many silent witnesses
from my past life

and her present one.

Sometimes it seems they suck up
all the sweet, fresh air

and I can't breathe.

I wanted to make her my slave.

and now I almost feel
in danger of becoming hers.

The reaction's brilliant.
BBC figures, Sir. Went like a dream.

I must say, I feel greatly encouraged.
Thank you.

Both of you.

No, it was you, Sir.
You wrote your own words.

You sounded like yourself.
You said what everyone wants to hear.

Well...I hope so, Chloe.

I don't think
there is much doubt, Sir.

I've seen the poll for tomorrow's
''Standard''. Up to a 12% swing now.

And the press and TV coverage
is better than we could have hoped for.

It's very warm, very friendly.

The best the Firm has done for years,
if I can put it that way.

- But...
- I beg your pardon, Sir?

There's a reservation there. What is it?

I don't see how you - how we -
are to go on from here.

Urquhart has a general election.
The date will suit himself.

Is the Palace intending
to side with the Opposition?

I can't do that. I can't
enter party politics.

You already have done, Sir.

It's the best thing
that could have happened.

No. Bloody nonsense.

It's my duty to take soundings.

I'm encouraging all political parties

to adopt more humane,
caring and rational policies.

That is utterly consistent
with being a constitutional monarch.

The people see you as the only man
who has the stature, moral authority

and the sheer guts
to take on Urquhart and win!

- And they're right. He's your enemy!
- I won't listen to any more. Leave us.

I'm sorry, Sir.

I will not... This is not some petty,
personal blood feud.

And I am not a politician!

- She's wrong, isn't she?
- I think so, Sir.

You're seeking to lead and influence
public opinion.

People can change. I know that.

Of course, the Urquharts of this world
aren't about to change.

Chloe was right about Urquhart.
He is your enemy.

I think he'll be utterly unscrupulous.

Invasions of privacy, for example.

And, in that connection,

there's something about
me you ought to know.

No. Whatever it is,
I don't want to hear it.

Your private life
clearly has nothing to do

with your ability to do your job.

The hell that wife of
yours put you through,

you'd have been entitled
to a nervous breakdown.

I know what it feels like.
You're a rock, David. An absolute rock.

Always have been. Best man I know.

Look here,
if you're trying to tell me

that you've found...
someone else,

and you're shagging yourself silly,

jolly good luck to you,
whoever it is.

Nothing to do with your job, full stop.

Now, if you want
to confide in me as a friend,

well, that's something else.

I don't think so.

If it's not a problem for you, Sir,
it's certainly not one for me.

In fact, I'm happier now
than I've been for years.

Oh, good.

I'm delighted, David.

Oh, yes! Wow!

She must have been
the last virgin left in the EEC,

I should think.
Over 12, I mean.

- Did they take her word for it?
- Brucie, that is beastly!

How should I know?
Do you want me to ask her? God!

- Would she tell you?
- You're just so disgusting.

It's not for me. It's for history.

Oh, ya, I forgot. You old hypocrite.

What a little pig you are, Brucie,
with your sack of money!

- Little Brucie!
- For God's sake, Charlotte!

Please can we get on? Now...

It's better for her to mate

with the strongest bull.

Number two bull chases
number three away from a female

and then claims her for himself.

- Was he seeing anyone else at the time?
- At what time? Oh, right.

- Of course he was.
- Who?

God, I can't remember. Loads of people.

You haven't really got this, have you?

Look, if you're one of his lot,
you just send for anyone you want.

It's a thingy - perk of the job.

- Silly old Bullers!
- You can't remember any names?

Oh, honestly! I didn't know
this was going to be such hard work.

Oh, Liddy, of course.
Liddy Baker-Harvington.

Oh, and Poo, Poo Bender.

Do you know Poo? You'd adore her.

Poo's a sport. Try anything once, Poo.
Point of principle.

Oh, and, um...

Oh, God. This is so exhausting!

Bully, Bully, can't we stop
and have another little rest?

Mm!

You're not letting things
slide too far?

There's not much to
be done at the moment.

We've seriously underestimated him.

He's turned out
to be quite a performer.

But, then, life would be very dull
without its little ups and downs.

No rest for the wicked.

By the way,
I'll dine at the House this evening.

Of course, I'll go down to the country.
You don't need Corder, do you?

No.

I'll give him dinner and ''Siegfried''.

That'll be jolly.
Very good value, Corder.

I think so, too.

Prime Minister's Question Time.
Very frightening.

Like being mugged by a guinea pig
''Is the PM aware...?''

Is the Prime Minister aware,
as he certainly should be

if he's read a newspaper this week,

listened to the radio or watched TV,

if he's talked to any ordinary man
or woman in the street this week,

which I very much doubt
because he wouldn't like

what they've got to say...

Too many words. He'll never learn.

Is he aware that
the vast majority of people,

from His Majesty himself
to the homeless beggars in the streets,

are fed up with him
and his discredited policies?

When, when will he go to the country,

as he has continually
hinted that he will,

and give them a chance to vote him out

and vote in a government
that cares about people?

I'd like to assure you
that the government is well aware

of the problems so eloquently expressed
by His Majesty and his little...

I mean, the Right Honourable gentleman.

The government is now in a position
to address those problems

in measures to be announced next week.

U-turn!
U-turn!

After which...

After which we shall humbly submit
to the verdict of the British public

at the polling stations.

It's all very well tormenting
the intellectually challenged.

but we have been pushed
into a U-turn,

and the media is going to say so.

All the Opposition have to
do is to get a new leader,

play all the court cards

and we could be in serious trouble.

Back to the welfare state
without passing Go.

Dismal egalitarianism running rampant
with a royal seal of approval.

Thank God for the House of Lords!

This debate is about fox huntin'.
It's about much more than that.

There are wreckers in this land who want
to do away with what we hold most dear,

whether it be the time-honoured
customs of our country,

or the great tradition of charity
to our less fortunate fellow men,

or even the sacred tradition
of the monarchy itself.

My lords, this is the first time

I have been moved
to speak in this House in 15 years.

I only want to say this.

Don't meddle in things that don't
concern you. That's fox hunting.

Do something about poverty
and injustice

or you'll have a bloody
revolution on your hands!

And, finally, don't blame
the royal family!

It's not their ruddy fault!

- Crisis? What crisis?
- The constitutional crisis.

The Lords siding against the government.

A storm in a teacup.
This is not the Middle Ages.

Chap has too many at lunchtime,
then the publicity-mad bishops join in!

Well, that's what
the House of Lords is for, isn't it?

- Prime Minister in?
- Yes. Hang on...

- Sorry to butt in, FU.
- Yes, Tim. What is it?

''What is it?'' We've got a crisis
on our hands!

We're trailing 14 points and suddenly
everyone's calling us names!

The troops are getting very jumpy.

I need to tell them something positive!

We go to the polls three weeks
from tomorrow. All right with you?

Oh, bloody excellent!

We just need to get things moving.
The chaps'll soon fall into place.

I mean, who really cares
about tramps and beggars,

for God's sake?

Oh, I've got Staines
to do a point of order.

Who?

Staines. You know,
always keen to please.

Can you stop him?

No. He'll have already started by now.
What's the matter?

I wish you'd consulted me first, Tim!
Staines is about to become a problem.

Earlier this afternoon, Madam Speaker,
in another place,

a noble lord
accused this government

of all kinds of wickedness.

Fox-hunting peers get a better view
from their high horses, I suppose.

Like the royals in their Bentleys.

And that gives them
the right to lecture us?

How dare they! How dare they challenge
the people's elected representatives

and try to claim a moral superiority
over ordinary, decent folk!

How dare they!
Who do they think they are?

We know who we are and what we're for.

Who are they and what are they for?

To live off our backs
and read us sermons on how to live?

Do we actually need moral sermons
from a degenerate aristocracy

and a discredited royal family?

Buggery, actual bodily harm,
gross indecency.

A number of lesser charges,
nearly all of them under-age.

Nearly all of them with young offenders
in custody or in care.

Apparently, he regarded it
as a perk of the job.

- Mr. John Staines?
- Yes?

My name is Hackett, sir.
Detective Inspector Hackett.

We'd like you to come
and help us with some inquiries.

Mr. John Staines, the MP for Stansted,

is still being interviewed
by senior police,

having been charged
with a number of sexual offences.

Earlier,
he made an impassioned speech

rebutting recent attacks
on the government

and criticising the lifestyle
of the aristocracy and the royal family.

What a shame.
Apparently, it was a very good speech.

It won't carry quite so much
moral authority now.

- You're very calm.
- These things are sent to try us.

I never cared for him. Stamper's boy.

Tim's not the world's most
brilliant judge of character.

He's running out of luck.

If any of this dirt sticks to Stamper,
I'll drop him like a hot brick.

It might be a very good thing.
We could do with a scapegoat.

- I thought he was your oldest friend.
- He is.

- Staines felt it was a perk of the job.
- Apparently so.

Is that what I am?
Do you see me as a perk of the job?

Of course not. You might as well say
I am a perk of your job.

We have freedom of action.
We choose each other.

How did Mattie Storin see it?

What?

What is it?

You have nothing to do with her.
That relationship was utterly different.

What you and I have is unique.
Mattie Storin is dead, Sarah.

She's gone for good.

It isn't easy, this.

It isn't as easy as
I thought it would be.

I'm spending too much
time thinking about you.

Not the job
you.

And people in your past.
Like Mattie Storin.

I seem to have become
unhealthily obsessed.

And I'm afraid I'm in some danger
of falling in love with you.

Oh, come on, David! This is silly.

Yes, I'm sure it is.

It's just upset me, that's all.
This Staines business.

He was there, in that club.

With that kid, with one of his kids.

Toting him around and showing him off,
as if to say, ''Look what I've got!''

He was almost offering this boy like
a packet of cigarettes. Then he said...

I can't remember exactly,

but the implication
was, ''We're all at it!''

- That what you and I do is the same.
- It's not, David!

Yes, I know.

My client, who is completely innocent
of these very serious charges,

is anxious to offer you his very fullest
co-operation in your inquiries.

Not asking for a deal, are we?

He is in a position to offer you
very extensive and detailed information

relating to this particular inquiry

and to others you may be
interested in pursuing.

Run it! ''Enough is enough! Old England
gives warning to Essex Man.''

''We care for the kids,'' says Staines,
and is arrested for buggering them!

Hint, hint, hint!

''Fox-hunting lord Quillington rebuked
by the stainer from Stansted!''

- The pit bull roars approval!
- I heard that! You're fired!

Now...this is the story.
You've got the King

against the Prime Minister,

you've got, ''Don't blame the royals'',

and Urquhart's plan
to bring down the monarchy.

And...they have all played
the personal morality card,

every one of them,

which means, in my book,

everybody's private life is
up for grabs! Everybody's!

This is absolutely excellent, Sarah.

It attacks the problem
of the inner cities,

it tackles unemployment

and puts layabouts
under strict discipline.

Original, bold and practicable!

And this is the only copy?

Yes, I haven't discussed it
with anyone.

Let's keep it that way.
Timing is everything.

- I'm extremely impressed, Sarah.
- Thank you.

Oh, no, I can't, really.
Not this evening.

We've got people coming.
I wish I could stay,

honestly. It's just not possible.

Of course. It's all right, Sarah.
I understand.

I am sorry. I got held up. I'm so sorry.

- You selfish bitch!
- I'm sorry you're upset.

- Is that all?
- I still love you.

I can smell him on you, Sarah!

- How could you do it?
- I don't know, I don't know!

- I don't understand it myself!
- Give him up!

Just give him up. Now!

- I can't.
- What about me?

What about me?

You bitch!

Hello.

Here's some advice, Sarah.
Stop now or you'll end up like Mattie.

Mattie was a brilliant young journalist.

Brilliant, but unstable.

I met her first several years ago
when she came to interview me.

I liked her very much,
right from the start.

I found I was incapable
of resisting her.

I had thought that my feelings
were entirely platonic.

She showed me they were not.

She showed me they were quite otherwise.

Krajewski used to be first class,
but he's come seriously unstuck.

Completely paranoid now,
you know.

Peddles conspiracy theories
which don't quite stand up.

Supposed to have IRA contacts,
but nobody's quite sure.

We tend to give him a wide berth.

I suppose I could arrange
a meeting for you

if you thought it was worth it.

Yes, please, Bryan.
I'd be very, very grateful.

Take everything he says
with a big pinch of salt.

I think he's off his head.

They bug the phones, the buildings.
You have no idea.

- So who do you work for?
- Francis Urquhart.

But this isn't for him.
This is purely personal.

Mattie Storin...was a lovely girl.

- She was Francis Urquhart's mistress.
- I don't know.

Yes, yes, yes, she had to be.

But then again it's...
It's so hard to get my...

I think he killed her.
Or he had her killed.

What?!

We knew he killed O'Neill.
Put rat poison in his cocaine.

Really! That's just absurd!

Think what you like.
I can't prove it now.

All Mattie's tapes were stolen.

Sounds crazy, doesn't it?
You think I'm crazy.

I don't know. Are you?

Yes, I think I probably am a bit.

What I don't know is why
the bastards haven't killed me.

It's very...unsettling.

- Just waiting for them to do it.
- Go to the police.

It's the police
they'll probably employ to do it!

Violently resisting arrest.
Found hanged in his cell.

I wish they'd bloody
well get on with it!

They'll probably kill you, too, now.

I'm off. Best of luck.

- Come in.
- Sir Bruce is here, Prime Minister.

- Good. Excellent. Show him in.
- Sir Bruce?

Bruce! Good to see you.

Thanks for coming in
at such short notice.

- Always a pleasure. Afternoon, Tim.
- Hello.

I see you've been reading the paper.
No hard feelings? Things need airing.

Of course they do. Quite right.
Do sit down.

Would I be right in thinking you're on
some sort of morality crusade, Bruce?

In a sense, yes. A debate about morality
in public and private life. Why not?

With everyone's private life
subject to scrutiny?

Well, if it's all
right for the royals...

Who could argue with that?

How are you getting
along with the princess?

Very well, surprisingly enough.

We thought so, too. Stamper has
some photographs he'd like to show you.

The technical quality is rather poor
in some of them.

Other way up, I think, Bruce. That's it.

There's a video, too.

I was very doubtful about the morality
of infringing your privacy,

but after what you've just said...

How much for the prints
and the negatives?

Bruce, please.

A little loyalty
from our friends is all we ask.

Just a helping hand

in these rather trying times.

Oh, well!

Of course. We weren't actually gonna
put the boot in, not in a serious way.

These are tough times for all of us.

We gather the memoirs are revealing.

Bloody dynamite.

And not just about her, not just
about the younger generation.

Staggering stuff.
They're all bloody at it!

Always have been.

Print them.

I can't do that.
I made a solemn promise.

Not while the princess is alive.

Francis...

It would destroy her. And not just her.
She doesn't deserve that.

No, perhaps you're right.

We'll just have to make
do with these, won't we?

All right, you bugger!

Ding dong, ding dong.

- And as for you, Stamper...
- What?

Just like old times.

The body found
on waste ground last night

was today identified as John Krajewski,
a freelance investigative journalist.

The killing bore the hallmarks
of an execution by the Provisional IRA,

but was claimed by a group
previously unknown -

the London Irish Branch.

John Krajewski had
a distinguished career in journalism,

having worked as a reporter,
sub-editor and deputy editor

for many newspapers.

Sarah, Sarah, I'm surprised at you.
You actually went to meet him?

- Why would you want to do that?
- It's embarrassing.

I got a bit obsessed
about Mattie Storin.

I was jealous of her, I suppose.

I thought if I found out
a bit more it would help.

And did it? Help, I mean?

Yes, I think it did.

What strange creatures we are.

The things we feel we have to do.

He said he knew he'd be killed.
He didn't say he meant the IRA.

- And what else did he say?
- Nothing much.

He said Mattie Storin was a lovely girl.

She was a lovely girl,

but she's not with us anymore.

- That was all he said?
- More or less.

You do trust me, don't you, Sarah?

Yes. Yes, I do.

Good.

But they all; all of them,
betray us eventually.

They love us, but not quite enough.

They trust us, but not quite enough.

And we trust them to be entirely human,

meaning less than trustworthy.

Which means
that we can never quite entirely sleep.

As the cat's eyelids flicker,

some part of us
must stay awake always.

Ready, as the coiled spring is ready.

Bully, you don't know what you've done.
You didn't even tell me first! God!

I knew you were a bit of a toad,
but I never, ever believed

you'd do anything so completely crappy!

- Bully, how could you?
- I feel as bad about this as you do.

Urquhart had me over a barrel.
My arse was on the line.

What about MY arse?
Doesn't my arse mean anything to you?

It means a great deal to me.
More than I can say.

But in the final analysis,
when the chips...

Just shut up! Just bloody well shut up!

God, Bully, I can't believe
what you've done.

Quilly's going to kill you.
He means that. He's serious.

And I shan't try and stop him!

Over the last few weeks, the integrity
of this government and of Parliament

has been subjected to an organised

and virulent attack
from various sources.

You might think that some of those
who made accusations were not perhaps

in the ideal position to throw stones,

living as they do in glass houses,
or, should I say, glass palaces?

You might very well think that.

It would not be proper
for me to comment.

Most of you will be aware
of the so-called revelations

in ''The Clarion'' today.

Many of you will deplore, as I do,

the prevalence of muckraking
in our tabloid press.

But for muckraking to happen

there has to be muck to be raked.

And, sadly, this commodity is not

in short supply amongst
the English aristocracy,

and, very sadly,
in the royal family itself.

This is very damaging stuff.

No, it's not. We're getting to him.
He's running scared.

A poll to be published tomorrow

shows that a majority now favour
further drastic reductions

in public funding for the monarchy.

I am not at present prepared
to accede to this

and remain, in spite of everything,

a loyal servant of the Crown.

But...I should like to leave you
with these questions.

What is the monarchy for?

Where has it gone wrong?

And how can we help the monarchy
to serve the country better?

- How much does Bullerby have?
- Everything the princess told him.

A lot of it's hearsay,
but there's enough to bring down

the monarchy for good.

- Damn you! Is that what you want?
- No, Sir.

I think, I'm sure, in fact,

I could persuade him to suppress
the more sensitive items.

The price being my silence?

You might see it in those terms.

- All right, do your worst.
- I beg your pardon, Sir?

People don't want any more muckraking.

The whole nation is sick to death of
negative campaigning and dirty tricks.

- They want something positive.
- You have given your word, Sir.

Not to make any political speeches,
and I shan't.

But I shall make it very clear

that I oppose you bitterly
and all you stand for.

I used to think you were
an honourable man. Not anymore.

You are intellectually
and morally bankrupt.

I should like to formally request
a dissolution of Parliament

in preparation for a general election.

Granted, Mr. Urquhart.

Why do this?
What can be in it for you?

You really don't understand, do you?

I do believe you're frightened of me.

You believe that if it gives you
any comfort, Sir.