The Engine of Change

This is Masterpiece.

VICTORIA: Of course I want children.

ANNOUNCER: Previously on Victoria... ...just not yet.

ALBERT: I have to earn my position.

MAN: Sir Robert Peel will be prime minister one day.

PEEL: I must congratulate you, sir.

That was a fine speech.

WOMAN: I hardly think you're in much danger from a harmless flirtation with a married woman.

I wanted to tell you that I will be going back to Coburg shortly.

I find myself thinking about you when I'm at my sugar work.

The only way to avoid conception is abstinence.

Victoria, tonight on Mast♪ ♪ ♪ Gloriana ♪ ♪ Hallelujah ♪ ♪ Gloriana ♪ ♪ Hallelujah ♪ ♪ Gloriana, hallelujah ♪ ♪ Hallelujah.

♪ (string quartet playing) George Frideric Handel.

German.

(gasps) (music stops) Are you all right?

It's nothing.

I am bilious.

Quickly!

Her Majesty is quite the little jack-in-the-box.

Women are queer cattle.

(guffaws) Of what do you gentlemen speak?

PEEL: The music, sir.

It is very well-constructed.

(audience stops murmuring) (music resumes) VICTORIA: I felt unwell.

It was disagreeable.

It's over now.

Oh, Lord, it was nothing compared to the spectacle of Peel perspiring with the effort of being charming.

Although I have to admit I'm strangely drawn to Peel.

He's direct, like me.

Also, I am told he's an aficionado of the railway.

Don't talk railway at me.

Half the people in this box are moaning about incursions on their property.

They are wrong.

Noise, mess, erosion.

They can't all be wrong.

Yes, they can.

We stand on the brink of a modern revolution, Victoria, of science.

Embrace it.

Go to these places of new manufacturing.

You say "manufacturing" and my soul shrivels with boredom.

Mine does not.

You should be the champion of what is coming.

Rather too much "should."

You're tired.

I'm not tired.

Then, my dear, you must be ill.

I'm not ill.

I shall send for the doctor.

Albert, I don't...

I don't want a doctor.

Your queen is sick.

Oh, we don't say "sick," we say "indisposed."

Well, she is indisposed out of her mouth.

What's that?

The cure for every ailment known to woman is chocolat.

Hot chocolate?

Really?

Uh-uh!

Mmm!

Why don't you give her one of your little wafers?

Then she can dip it in.

You're in the wrong job, Miss Skerrett.

Thank you.

I'll get this to the Queen directly.

Can't fix what she's got with chocolate.

(sighs) Can I help you with that, Mrs. Jenkins?

How are you at a repeating scroll cross-stitch on organdy?

She says "no doctor" and then she sends for the doctor.

MAN: Good-bye, Dr. Clarke.

What did the doctor say?

Tell me, please.

There's nothing we cannot face.

(crying) Enceinte.

You are 21 years.

There is no polite English word.

You are with child?

That's... That's magnificent!

You are magnificent.

I'm afraid.

No.

(sighs) Is it safe to announce?

(applause) I know my duty.

PEEL: Very good, Lord Chamberlain.

HRH didn't dilly-dally.

(applause subsides) Ma'am.

What is it?

Brandy mixed with cream.

It eliminates nausea.

Is it medically demonstrable?

Ask any woman who has conceived.

Listen to me.

Your nurse is a virgin, your husband is a man, your doctor is a fool.

Directly after luncheon, you must go to bed and lay down on your back without moving till dinner.

Dinner shall be preparations of the vital organs: the brain, liver, the lungs.

Affairs of state... Drina, this is your affair of state.

Affairs?

Let Albert do them for you.

Let him do everything for you.

Will he also give birth for me, Mama?

Remember Charlotte.

Her death in labor is the reason you're queen.

I have work to do.

(sighs) FRANCATELLI: Baroness, you put me off my stroke.

The queen must have sweetbreads in broth, I know, yes, I'll see to it directly, but if I cock this mayonnaise...

Her Majesty's dietary requirements take pr... Curdled.

All she had to do was look at it.

Take this.

Make it again.

No.

VICTORIA: I'm not an imbecile.

I grasp that the constitution demands an heir and that I must produce it.

But to make me feel I own no other function...

Your mother is... ...of her generation.

The world's leaving her behind.

She is afraid.

You are going to look at my body and be revolted.

I know it.

My desire for you will never fail.

A love like ours can burn down a city.

When we are in public, and we want to tell each other that we love each other... ...we do this.

(laughs) That means that...

It means that we are in love.

(laughs) Yes.

(door opens) The Lord Chamberlain, Your Majesty.

My Lord, this is my private time.

Speak freely before the Prince.

I shall be offended if you don't.

The court rejoices in your news.

But?

Your eyes are full of "but."

Childbirth is a hazardous business.

You want to know what will happen if I die.

I understand.

It is your duty to consider what would happen next.

Specifically, ma'am, if the child survived you.

It is incumbent upon Your Majesty to nominate a regent for the approval of Parliament.

Well, that, My Lord, is something I can do without a moment's hesitation.

WELLINGTON: And so the torpid Teuton wedges himself yet further into the sagging cleft of power.

It's unconscionable!

If the queen dies, are we to be ruled by a German?

We already are.

Cumberland would crawl over broken glass for a crack at the regency.

You pull a face, he could be managed.

Now who else?

Well, Conroy's rather shot his belt.

Sussex.

These are frightful prospects.

(scoffs) Hideous, but all preferable to Albert.

CHAMBERLAIN: Parliament, of course, must ratify... Of course it must.

I hear you are already acquainted with the prince, Peel.

The queen is stubborn.

You must convince Albert to reconsider.

VICTORIA: If the Tories fail to condone your regency, I will abdicate.

No, you will not.

I will.

You can't abdicate.

You're not the monarch.

Then I will merely leave.

Then I will merely kill myself.

Then I will remarry.

(laughing): Ridiculous.

Whom will you marry?

Wellington.

Peel.

Maybe both.

(door opens) Cumberland shall be my mistress.

(laughing) Drina, laughter is bad for baby.

One day, I'll put her on a donkey and pack her off to Carlisle.

(door closes) Carlisle.

County town of Cumberland, celebrated for textiles.

Adjacent is Northumberland, rejoicing in the digging of coal and fish.

Fishing, one cannot dig... for fish.

You see, it is not your mother you should be sending north.

You're determined to see me dragged around some morbid display of traction engines.

Send me.

Why?

Otherwise, I feel the people may not accept me as their regent.

I'm not dead yet.

Don't be childish.

If you would prefer not to be regent when I am dead... No, what I would prefer, Victoria, is to exercise just a little power while you are alive.

Power must be seen to come from me.

For you...

...I order a trip North.

An expedition into the dark heart of the Tory shires, where I shall fanfare you as regent.

Oh no, I do not seriously expect you to travel.

The latest research in Germany suggests that the woman in pregnancy should not exert herself.

But I am not a German woman.

I am the Queen of England.

HARRIET: Chillington Hall, ma'am, is well situated for your research, being in Staffordshire.

It is also close to Drayton, Sir Robert Peel's residence.

VICTORIA: Oh, Lord.

Your host, Sir Piers Giffard, is by all accounts an old-fashioned gentleman and a Tory as well, but he begs to receive Her Majesty and her entourage.

Contrary to general belief, I'm not actually frightened of Tories.

Can we define "entourage"?

HARRIET: King Charles the First, ma'am, made such excursions with what he called "his modest night bag"-- a company of 500 horse.

Not an easy guest.

One is anxious not to end one's reign as did King Charles.

We shall be attended by a very few.

Jenkins.

Your Royal Highness?

Oh, um... Lohlein is all I require.

Baroness, you, of course.

Can't travel without my dear Lehzen.

Surely, dear, Baroness is needed here to administrate.

Penge can administrate the household.

It's what he's for.

DUCHESS: We shall be so light, we shall travel like the wind!

No, Mama, you shall remain here.

Harriet, will you attend to the Duchess in my absence?

Can your husband spare you?

He will not notice I'm gone, ma'am.

ALBERT: This apparently is the very discomfort that the railway eliminates.

The vehicle runs on wheels, which have flanges-- I learned this word-- which fit precisely into the inner tracks, which...

I think we need to stop.

(knocking) Please stay here.

Why do you crowd me with that, Lehzen?

It doesn't appear to be raining.

It was in case Your Majesty was indisposed.

Ah.

Dearest Lehzen.

Always thinking of me.

I just needed some air.

You know, the whole world would have me trussed up in bed all day.

That's hardly my style, is it?

What was it you used to say I was?

A little wrigglepants, ma'am.

(laughing) (horses neighing) ALBERT: Did you see those fellows in the field?

They were surveying the railway, I think.

VICTORIA: My darling, the railway is not a subject to be paraded before the Giffards.

VICTORIA: Just be your charming self.

They will adore you.

Last time I saw her, she was... what?

This high?

Apparently she still is.

(Giffard laughs) She's here to pimp for his regency.

Are you randy for it?

No, not at any price.

Your Majesty.

Sir Piers.

(silverware tapping plates) Ancestors, Sir Piers?

Indeed, ma'am.

Sir Tristan Giffard came with the Conqueror.

Goodness.

The House of Hanover is by comparison arriviste.

(mild chuckling) The Hanovers start about there.

(laughing loudly) So, how does one pass one's time in Staffordshire?

ALBERT: Ceramics.

It is the industry of the region.

It is a favored occupation of the people.

Well, it seems to be the case that many artifacts are created en masse in factories.

I would very much like to visit some of these places.

We hunt, ma'am.

In fact, I have arranged for you and the prince to ride out with the Shifnal tomorrow.

Piers, you're quite mad.

Her Majesty cannot tax herself to ride with the hounds in her condition.

Alas, I do not hunt.

I shoot.

Well, a day of driven shooting, then.

Would Your Majesty find such a prospect diverting?

VICTORIA: Excessively diverting.

We shall observe, Lady Beatrice.

I'm confident neither of us shall find the experience taxing.

(slurps soup) "Speaka da" English?

Your man's shooting tomorrow.

Does he have the kit?

In this country, a gentleman don't set foot in the field without the kit.

Oh, just see me afterwards.

(birds chirping and quacking) Crikey, whose are those?

The butler gives this to me, for the Prince.

Is correct English for the field.

Those trousers aren't proper kit for nothing but fancy dress.

A gun wearing white would be a right howler.

Are you listening to me?

Are you listening?

Yes.

A dark coat, brown boots, tall hat, the older the better, that's all you need.

No one shoots in nothing new.

Do you understand?

Yes.

Come on, show me what you've brought.

We won't have the prince embarrassed.

(dogs barking) (men shouting) What are those gentlemen doing?

They're the beaters, sir.

They're driving the birds towards us.

I see.

In Thüringen, we take birds in the cages to high towers, and then they are released.

(quietly): A barbaric practice.

(wings flapping) (firing) (dogs barking) (fires) Sausage eater can hit them!

A most singular mount.

Fascinating!

(firing) I'd wipe your eye, Sir Piers.

(dogs panting) Good shot, sir.

Oh!

Extraordinary to find you here.

Well, extraordinary only in that I do not shoot, Your Majesty.

But I am, uh...

I'm neighbor to the Giffards.

You do not shoot?

Well, if you instruct me to do so, ma'am, I shall certainly try, but I'm afraid I shall make a fearful hash of it.

Sport is not my métier.

I am unused to it.

Too busy preparing for government.

Now, luncheon.

ALBERT: Sir Piers, what is your view of the railway?

GIFFARD: Fortunately, sir, I don't have a view of it here.

I'm plagued by people wanting to run the thing through my park, but I tell 'em to cut along sharpish or I'll set the dogs on 'em.

He's a fan, mind.

You approve of it, Sir Robert?

One must not stand in the path of progress, sir.

I agree.

I believe the railway dissolves the unnecessary cultural divides of our regions.

Men can travel for work, families unite.

When you say "our regions," sir, do you mean the counties of England?

Because you may find that the people of, for instance, Staffordshire are rather fond of the peculiar virtues of their region and don't necessarily want it disfigured by iron rails.

As ever, this subject makes men overstimulated.

PEEL: Am I right in thinking you have never seen a locomotive, sir?

ALBERT: That's correct.

Well, there is presently one on my property at Drayton.

It is quite adjacent.

It would be my pleasure to offer you all a demonstration.

Excellent.

Excellent.

Victoria?

Alas, Sir Robert, I think we should let our host devise the program of activity.

BEATRICE: Your Majesty is pale.

It is too silly of us to expect you to remain at table so fatiguing.

I am quite well, thank you.

When baby is being mischievous.

Would you care to rest, ma'am?

I think I shall explore.

Alone.

(whispering): You count as alone.

(sighing) To look up over one's stew and see Peel fidgeting with the silver and simpering over my husband!

Albert doesn't know how to talk.

He refuses to dissemble.

He only ever says exactly what he means, and amongst people like the Giffards, it's... (sighs) ...hopeless.

Oh, say something, Lehzen.

You're allowed to say something.

Sir Robert reminds me of an exhibit I saw in Salzburg.

It was a big frog.

Stuffed.

You accuse Sir Robert of looking like a stuffed frog?

(laughing) GIFFARD: Now, listen to me, Peel.

I know you've had disappointments in your life-- Harrow, so forth-- but the future belongs to the Tories, and the Tories belong to you.

Now, toast with the port, damn you.

So make yourself fit for us.

In what respect am I not fit?

You pander to the railway when you should be chasing the bastards off your land.

You poodlefake and pussyfoot about the gormless German.

It's perfectly clear why they've invited themselves here.

Only reason he talks to you is to ginger up support for his regency, an office you shall not allow him.

Wellington's not too old to take the reins, you know.

Just saying.

(clock ticking) You imagine I resent being left here by the queen.

Well, you are correct.

It's never nice being left behind, Duchess.

BRODIE: Did Mrs. Jenkins ask you to do that?

SKERRETT: No.

But, y'know, I want to see if I can do it.

It's a challenge.

(gasping) Did you make that just for me?

Well, you are now my official taster.

That's extraordinary!

You know what would make that even better?

Oh, here we go.

Cover it in hot chocolate.

I think, Miss Skerrett, you might be a genius.

(laughs) Forgive me, darling, but sometimes you are too direct when you speak.

Men like Giffard, they recoil from enthusiasm.

They find it un-English.

Please, from now on, let me guide the conversation.

I'm sorry about the locomotive, but we must proceed carefully.

(speaking German) Speak English.

I have this morning sent a note to Sir Robert Peel.

Today, I see the locomotive.

Albert?

That is the most magnificent thing I have ever seen.

(steam hissing) Good day.

Your Highness.

Morning.

Would you show His Royal Highness the controls, please?

These levers control the valves.

Pedal engages the eccentrics.

Regulator controls the motion.

Moderates the flow of steam.

Let's go.

Now please, your worships, you can take a seat in the carriage.

ALBERT: Carriage be damned!

We ride here!

(whistle blowing) I said I wished to be alone.

Shall I go, Majesty?

No.

You haven't eaten your beetroot, ma'am.

I can't bear this.

Where is he?

(whistle blows) This is the future!

Yes, sir.

How is the queen?

Wanting the most peculiar things for breakfast.

This morning, she had to have beetroot.

It's a vegetable.

It's revolting.

She's rather cross that HRH has gone off somewhere without her.

Also without me.

But for a man, it is essential to have space.

To breathe.

It's not only men who need a breather from matrimony, my dear.

The butler said that in the country, the prince must sing as he's being undressed.

I am to encourage this.

Sing?

Yes.

Anything in particular?

"God Save the Queen."

Good heavens.

You've been had, boy.

This butler wants your master to look a fool.

Why?

Because these people, like the Giffards and their servants, they're all the same.

Got to keep the old ways.

Anything that is young and new is a threat.

The queen, the prince, you.

You're what's next.

You scare them.

I'm going for a walk.

(quietly): Without the prince?

Sir Piers?

Ma'am.

As we are presently unencumbered by other guests, may I ask where you stand on the matter of the regency?

Well, this is surely a matter, ma'am, that is purely hypothetical.

Parliament is not hypothetical.

Its members must condone my selection.

Condone or condemn.

What would you advise them to do?

What all men of honor must do, ma'am: follow their consciences.

(under her breath): Weasel.

My wife does not care for you.

The Queen.

She finds you cold and ambitious.

I apologize for the inadequacy of my manner, sir.

It is remarked upon not infrequently.

Snap.

As in the card game, snap, it's what people say about me also.

If I am ambitious, it is only for the health and prosperity of this country.

(whistle blows) Sir Robert, do you consort with me because you seek my favor for your political advantage?

No, sir.

Do you consort with me because you seek my influence to ratify your regency?

No.

Although that would be rather helpful.

Perhaps I should.

I like you, Sir Robert.

Even though I famously have no taste, of course.

I'm German.

(laughs) There it is.

I am glad of it, sir.

There it is.

(whistle blowing) (groaning): I should never have took this on, I never got the training for this!

Shall I tell you what I think?

Go on then.

I think you need to worry a bit less about what you did and didn't get in the past.

That's what the past means, it's finished with.

Some pasts are never finished with.

Not true.

(footsteps approaching) Well, who are you trying to impress with all your fancy experimenting?

You know, the queen isn't even here!

(quietly): Yes, she is.

Does your hand contain royalty?

As a matter of fact, it does.

A prince?

Of course.

I mean "knave."

Ernest is not an honest man, Harriet.

I'm a married woman, Duchess.

You've got children.

As I had Victoria.

(carriage approaching) (door opens) How dare you.

My dear, I did not want to wake you.

It is such an insult.

It's not an insult, Victoria.

It's merely me embracing England's destiny on your behalf.

It is not your place to do things on my behalf!

If I wish to bring railways or anything to the attention of the English people, then Albert, I shall do it myself.

And if you answer back using the word "future," I shall scream!

I decide what is the future.

What if you had been killed?

Do you not care at all about our unborn child?

Oh, look at you.

You look like a peasant.

I'm not the one eating beetroot.

What?!

What is wrong with beetroot?

It's peasant food.

That is ridiculous!

Possibly in your country, Albert, not in mine.

This is my country!

Victoria, I seek only to serve it.

And yourself.

♪ ♪ This has to stop!

What exactly do you want, son?

Shall I set you a place and all?

Dining with the queen, Mr. Francatelli?

Now, how about this for an idea?

Aha!

Trust you got your man singing lustily?

This is a very old family.

Things... have to be done right around here.

Sir.

All families are old.

And my "man"... is His Royal Highness Prince Albert, husband to Her Majesty, the Queen.

Mm.

(chuckling) And you have insulted him.

(cries out) (breathing heavily) There is nobody here to see this but God.

Now if you have no honor, you can just pretend it did not happen.

Well, she saw it.

Yes, I-- yes, I saw everything.

You just slapped yourself in the face, God knows why!

Is that what you lot do up north?

Is it?

Huh?

Your Majesty, you're unattended.

VICTORIA: Yes, yes, yes.

I had decided to go out.

I need you to find Lehzen.

Mrs. Jenkins?

(sighing) (breathing heavily) Where's the queen?

She didn't shed a rod.

Her wheels didn't fall off.

She didn't kill Prince Albert.

I call it a success.

Your blooming good health, boys.

ALL: Good health.

(horse neighing) (horse hooves stamping) Oh, Christ.

(steam hissing) (whistle blowing) (cheering) MAN: Queen Victoria!

(train whistling) (gasps) ALBERT: Victoria!

Victoria!

You like it?

I love it!

What?

I said I love it!

(whistle blowing) (whistle blowing in the distance) Now.

(laughs) (spoon rings against ice) laughs) (loud crack) That's wonderful.

You know what you ought to do?

Call it... ...a "bomb surprise."

Because it looks like a bomb, yes?

And it's a surprise.

(both laughing) "La bombe surprise."

"Mr. Francatelli's bombe surprise."

You invented it.

No, you invented it.

Mm.

We invented it.

(satisfied sigh) What can I do to cheer you up?

Shall I put on a nice frock?

(birds chirping) GIFFARD: It won't wash, Peel.

PEEL: What won't, Sir Piers?

Licking up to the queen's husband and giving him a ride on your ruddy infernal machine.

It is not an adult way to solicit power.

The prince has no power to be solicited.

Oh, you're wrong.

With respect.

Quite wrong.

You know, Sir Piers, I rather enjoyed riding on the railway.

I commend the experience to you.

You might find it enlightening.

I am most grateful for Your Majesty's... advice.

It is a mistake to make one's mind up about a thing before one's tried it.

Don't you think?

The world is on the move, Sir Piers.

Keep up.

♪ ♪ My darling, what ever is the matter?

(sobbing) I am frightened of the pain.

There will be pain, yes, but...

I wish I could endure it for you.

But Victoria, listen to me.

Listen.

You are strong.

Childbirth is surely an ordeal, but you are equal to it.

You have such... ...such fortitude.

(laughs lightly) It was wrong of me.

(sniffing) Peel, the engine.

To go alone.

No, not necessarily.

You will allow me to share the burden of your duties?

Albert...

Please.

The Scotch, you know, they... they have a curious expression.

"Softly, softly, catchee monkey."

Who is this monkey?

You are my monkey.

(tower bell ringing) (footsteps) VICTORIA: Did you see the Giffards sniggering up their noses at me?

(laughing) My dear, you look so well.

Thank you, Mama.

Expeditions clearly agree with us.

I am afraid I didn't drink your medicine.

The baby will tell you what it wants.

Welcome home.

(clears throat) Are we paying attention?

The queen has requested a dish of bacon and peas.

Is bacon suitable for...?

Medical suitability has been suspended.

Bacon, Mr. Francatelli.

And peas, Mr. Penge.

And peas.

Post-haste.

And for the prince?

The prince dines with the queen.

Double bacon and peas!

JENKINS: Miss Skerrett.

You have done a lovely job with this.

I didn't know you were going to finish it off.

Had time on my hands, Mrs. J.

There is a mark on it there.

But that'll sponge out.

This is a lovely surprise to come back to, thank you, dear.

I shall take it up and show it to the queen in the morning.

Shan't pass the work off as mine neither.

(sizzling) That's for nothing.

Watch out.

PEEL: It is Her Majesty's wish that her husband be prince regent, and I believe it is the correct choice.

(men grumbling) WELLINGTON: You promote the costive Coburg as our regent?

I do not promote the prince.

The man is a menace and a boor.

I endorse the decision of my queen.

(loud grumbling) If you wish to make farmyard noises, I suggest you cross the floor to Palmerston's sty, where that species of behavior is tolerated.

This is the party of gentlemen.

Is that understood?

Let the speaker be informed that the Tories wholeheartedly support Her Majesty's choice of regent.

There it is.

(door opens) Well... (door closes) If none of us has the moral courage to stand up to Peel, I...

I suggest we back him.

Is that understood?

(door opens) (whispering): The frog is here, wishing to croak at you.

I shall send him away.

No.

Tell Sir Robert I shall be pleased to see him.

Your Majesty.

Sir Robert.

You look rather more at home here than you do in a muddy field.

It's late.

This must be important.

It is indeed, ma'am.

I beg to inform Her Majesty that in the unfortunate event of her death, her selection of regent has the full support of the Tory Party.

That is encouraging news.

But quite academic.

As you see, I am far too busy to die.

Ah!

(chuckles quietly) Cotton.

Whereabouts is cotton, mostly?

Manchester.

Yes.

Rather more your sort of thing than mine.

Most of this contains industry.

♪ ♪ Next time, on Masterpiece... VICTORIA: I'm so bored of this.

CUMBERLAND: You cannot believe that a member of the British royal family would contemplate regicide?

Am I simply a vessel to be protected because I am carrying precious cargo?

VICTORIA: It's my duty to show myself to my people.

ALBERT: It's too dangerous.

ANNOUNCER: Victoria, the season finale, next time on Masterpiece.

♪ Gloriana!

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