Downton Abbey, Series 3 Scripts (Official)

by Julian Fellowes

MRS BRYANT: I hope that you can accept our offer, Ethel, and that we can be friends. Because we both wish you well, don’t we, dear? We wish Ethel well.

  BRYANT: I don’t wish you ill. I’ll say that.37

  Ethel has been handing round the cups…

  ETHEL: I can’t accept your offer. And we won’t be friends.

  MRS BRYANT: What? Not even for Charlie’s sake?

  Ethel watches Charlie, happy on the lap of Mr Bryant.

  ETHEL: I think you love my son, Mr Bryant. I don’t think you’re a nice man, or a kind one, but I believe you love my boy… So you’ll be pleased by what I’ve come here to say.38

  Isobel is anguished, but Mrs Hughes thinks Ethel is right.

  41 INT. LIBRARY. DOWNTON. DAY.

  Matthew is at the desk. Near him a table is stacked with ledgers of various sizes. Mary comes in.

  MARY: Any news while I was out?

  MATTHEW: No. Perhaps the Home Secretary won’t see him.

  She goes to the fire and rings the bell.

  MARY: Papa’ll pull some strings until he does.

  Mary glances at the vast ledgers open on the table.

  MARY (CONT’D): Ah ha. You’ve started on the Augean task. How are you getting on?

  MATTHEW: Not badly. I’m beginning to get a sense of how it all works.

  MARY: In a way, it’s probably best you tackle it by yourself.

  Carson comes in.

  MARY (CONT’D): Ah, Carson. May we please have some tea?

  CARSON: Of course, m’lady.

  MARY: Anna said you were interviewing footmen today.

  CARSON: That is correct.

  MARY: Have you chosen the lucky winner?

  CARSON: Not yet. There were two candidates when it came down to it. One was steady, but not much else, but the ladies downstairs want the other one.

  MATTHEW: Why is that?

  CARSON: I don’t know precisely. Unless it’s because he’s more handsome.

  MARY: Of course it’s because he’s more handsome. Oh, do pick him, Carson, and cheer us all up a bit. Alfred’s nice, but he does look like a puppy who’s been rescued from a puddle.

  CARSON: Well, this new one seems very sure of himself.

  MATTHEW: You can manage that, can’t you?

  CARSON: I suppose I could, sir.

  MARY: Well, it’s settled then. Tell the maids they can buy their Valentines.

  CARSON: So be it, m’lady. But Alfred is very good, you know. He’s very willing. Even if he is Miss O’Brien’s nephew.

  He goes out and the other two burst out laughing.

  MATTHEW: Clearly nothing worse could be said of any man.39

  42 EXT. CRAWLEY HOUSE. DAY.

  Mr and Mrs Bryant, Charlie, Ethel, Mrs Hughes and Isobel come out, the Bryants, Mrs Hughes and Ethel in their overcoats.40

  MRS BRYANT: You’ll want to say goodbye.

  Ethel kneels and kisses her son for the last time.

  ETHEL: I give you my blessings for your whole life long, my darling boy.

  CHARLIE: Yes.

  ETHEL: You won’t remember that or me, but they’ll stay with you all the same.

  BRYANT: Let’s not make a meal of it.

  MRS BRYANT: You go on, dear, and settle him in.

  Ethel stands and moves back. Bryant takes the boy and goes down to where the car waits. Mrs Bryant turns to Ethel.

  MRS BRYANT: I’ll write to you. Make sure Mrs Hughes always has your address.

  ETHEL: But won’t he —?

  MRS BRYANT: A little judicious disobedience is a key part of marriage, as I hope you find out, my dear.

  ETHEL: He won’t let me see him, though, will he? I’ll never see my son again.

  MRS BRYANT: Never is a long time, Ethel. But you were right. He does love Charlie. And not just for his father’s sake. He will do his best for him. His very best. Now I must be going. I’ll say goodbye.

  She goes, leaving the three women. Ethel is distraught as the car drives away.

  MRS HUGHES: You’ve done a hard thing today, Ethel. The hardest thing of all.

  Ethel looks across at Isobel.

  ETHEL: You don’t agree, do you?

  ISOBEL: I don’t want to make you doubt now that it’s happened.

  MRS HUGHES: You’ve done the right thing for the boy, Ethel. Whatever Mrs Crawley may say. Begging your pardon, ma’am.

  ISOBEL: Perhaps you’re right.

  MRS HUGHES: I am. Until we live in a very different world from this one.

  ETHEL: Well, then. I should be away.

  She walks off, sadly, to the road, watched by the others.

  MRS HUGHES: Let’s pray she makes a new life for herself that’s worth having.

  ISOBEL: You don’t sound very optimistic.

  MRS HUGHES: What chance is there for a woman like her? She’s taken the road to ruin. There’s no way back.

  She, too, walks away, leaving Isobel thinking.

  43 INT. YORK PRISON. BATES’S CELL. NIGHT.

  The door is thrown open and the usual posse barges in, led this time by Turner.

  BATES: What’s this about?

  TURNER: Silence. Stand up. Against the wall, the pair of you.

  Bates does as he is told, and both he and Craig are manhandled against the wall.

  CRAIG: What you looking for?

  TURNER: Just keep quiet.

  Craig catches the eye of his own warder, Durrant, who has arrived last and is not in charge of the raid. He is out of his depth.

  They have stripped Craig’s mattress and found a slit in the material. A further search reveals a package.

  SECOND WARDER: Mr Turner, come over here.

  TURNER: Well, well. A very mysterious package, I don’t think.

  He looks at Craig.

  TURNER: Craig, what do you call this?

  CRAIG: I don’t know. I’ve done nothing.

  TURNER: You’d better come with us, Craig.

  Craig looks at Durrant, who almost shrugs, then at Bates.

  CRAIG: You’ll be sorry.

  BATES: Why? What have I done?

  But Bates smiles as his fellow prisoner is led out.41

  44 EXT. DOWNTON. DAY.

  A car approaches Downton.

  44A INT. HALL. DOWNTON. DAY.

  Sybil walks through the hall. Branson, who has run down the stairs, appears.

  BRANSON: Oh, thank God.

  They walk towards each other and embrace passionately. Branson, by now, is in tears.

  BRANSON: I’m so sorry.

  SYBIL: It’s all right…

  45 INT. SYBIL’S BEDROOM. DOWNTON. DAY.

  Sybil, who is visibly pregnant, sits with Branson. Mary, Cora and Edith are clearly relieved. Anna is unpacking.

  SYBIL: They didn’t try to stop me. But it doesn’t mean they won’t come after us. Unless Papa can persuade them otherwise.

  CORA: Tom, how could you have left her all alone, to fend for herself?

  SYBIL: It wasn’t like that. We thought this might happen and we’d decided what to do. The question is, what now?

  MARY: I’ve telephoned Papa’s club and left a message that you’re here.

  CORA: I’m sure we’ll hear from him soon.

  SYBIL: Because we can’t go home without some guarantee of Tom’s safety.

  CORA: You mustn’t travel any more. Not yet. Not before the baby’s born.

  SYBIL: But Tom wants it born in Dublin.

  MARY: He won’t hold you to that now.

  She glances firmly at Branson.

  BRANSON: Well, won’t this be the first place that they look?

  MARY: How could you be part of it? The Drumgooles are like us. She came out with me. She was Laura Dunsany then. How could you dance round her burning house, Tom? It’s horrible.

  SYBIL: He didn’t dance. And he isn’t dancing now.

  There is a knock and Sybil answers.

  SYBIL: Come in.

  Carson comes in with a telegram on a salver.

  CARSON: A telegr
am for you, m’lady.

  Cora takes it and opens it.

  CORA: Your father’s coming home. He’s seen Mr Shortt.

  SYBIL: And what happened?

  CORA: He doesn’t say. Only that neither of you is to leave Downton.42

  46 INT. THE OLD DAY NURSERY. DOWNTON. NIGHT.

  Mary is there, at her desk, when Matthew looks in.

  MATTHEW: Where’s Robert?

  MARY: He went straight to his room as soon as he got back. He wants us all in the library at eight.

  MATTHEW: Did he look cheerful?

  MARY: I didn’t see him. Why?

  MATTHEW: I don’t quite know how to put it.

  MARY: Try.

  MATTHEW: Looking through the books… there seems to be a great deal of waste.

  MARY: What do you mean?

  MATTHEW: Well, as far as I can tell, there’s been no proper management for years. Rents are unpaid, or far too low. There’s no real maintenance scheme. And half the assets are underused or else ignored entirely.

  MARY: You’re not saying Papa is guilty of anything?

  MATTHEW: Not in that way, no. Of course not.

  MARY: I don’t want to pull rank, Matthew, but a country estate is not a city business. There are people, many people, we have to look after —

  MATTHEW: But nobody benefits when the thing is badly run.

  Mary is by now quite indignant. She stands.

  MARY: Obviously, if that’s your impression you must talk it through with Papa.43

  END OF ACT THREE

  ACT FOUR

  47 INT. KITCHEN PASSAGE. DOWNTON. NIGHT.

  Thomas has come in with two heavy suitcases and a hat box.

  MOLESLEY: You’re back.

  THOMAS: I am. Anything happened here?

  MOLESLEY: There’s a new footman. Came today. How was London?

  THOMAS: Quite fun, as a matter of fact.

  MOLESLEY: Has the firebrand been saved?

  THOMAS: That’s not for me to say, is it, Mr Molesley. Now, I’d better take these upstairs.

  He walks away past the footmen’s cupboard where the new footman, Jimmy Kent, is trying on livery.

  THOMAS (CONT’D): You got the job, then?

  Jimmy gives him a ravishing smile.

  JIMMY: I’m on my way, Mr Barrow. They say you were a footman once.

  THOMAS: That’s right.

  JIMMY: So can I come to you if there’s anything I need to know?

  THOMAS: Certainly. Why not?

  He moves on. O’Brien has been watching this exchange.44

  48 INT. LIBRARY. DOWNTON. NIGHT.

  The family is assembled. Violet is with them.

  BRANSON: I can never go back to Ireland? That’s impossible.

  ROBERT: If you do, you’ll be put in prison. It was the best I could manage.

  CORA: Surely they need proof, to ban a man from his own country?

  ROBERT: They have more proof than Tom will concede.

  SYBIL: Is that fair? He’s admitted to being there. He’s told you so himself —

  ROBERT: But he did not tell me that he attended Dublin meetings where the attacks on the Anglo-Irish were planned.

  SYBIL: That’s not true…

  All eyes are on Branson. Sybil takes her hand away from him. At first he says nothing. Then…

  BRANSON: I was always against any personal violence. I swear it.

  VIOLET: Oh, so at least we can sleep in our beds.

  ROBERT: Maybe. But you were not against the violent destruction of property.

  BRANSON: I’ve told you. The sight of it was worse than I expected.

  MATTHEW: So what was the deal you managed to extract from the Home Secretary?

  ROBERT: They don’t want to make a martyr of him. And with Sybil, they think they could have another Maud Gonne on their hands, or Lady Gregory, or worse, if they’re not careful.

  VIOLET: Lady Gregory, Countess Markievicz — why are the Irish rebels so well born?

  ROBERT: Whatever the reason, I don’t want Lady Sybil Branson to join their ranks. Mercifully, nor do the Irish authorities. If Tom can stay away, they’ll leave him alone.

  CORA: Isn’t anyone going to thank your father?

  BRANSON: I can’t be kept away from Ireland.

  ROBERT: You’ll be arrested the moment you touch dry land.

  SYBIL: Thank you, Papa. Of course we’re very grateful, aren’t we?45

  Before Branson can answer, Carson comes in.

  CARSON: Dinner is served, m’lady.

  49 INT. KITCHENS. DOWNTON. NIGHT.

  Mrs Patmore and Daisy load the trays for Alfred and Jimmy.

  MRS PATMORE: Now then. Do what Mr Carson tells you.

  JIMMY: I know what I’m about.

  DAISY: Are you all right, Alfred?

  ALFRED: Yes, but shouldn’t I be carrying the pork and Jimmy the veg? I am first footman.

  MRS PATMORE: Never mind that. Up you go.

  DAISY: I think Alfred’s right. Isn’t he first footman, like he says?

  MRS PATMORE: That’s for Mr Carson to decide.

  Which pleases Jimmy. The two young men leave.

  DAISY: I like Alfred, though.

  MRS PATMORE: And so do I, but look at them. Which looks like a first footman to you? By heck, it’s nice to think we’re running at full strength again.

  DAISY: Really? I’m running at full strength and always have been with no one to help me, neither.

  MRS PATMORE: All in good time, Daisy. All in good time.

  50 INT. DINING ROOM. DOWNTON. NIGHT.

  They are at dinner, being served by Alfred and Jimmy.

  VIOLET: What do you mean you wrote to a newspaper? No lady writes to a newspaper.

  EDITH: What about Lady Sarah Wilson? She’s the daughter of a duke, and she worked as a war journalist.

  VIOLET: Well, she’s a Churchill. The Churchills are different.46

  MARY: Have we no Churchill blood?

  CORA: I think Granny’s right.

  VIOLET: Can somebody write that down?47

  CORA: It’s good to have strong views. But notoriety is never helpful.

  EDITH: Well, I’ve sent it now.

  ROBERT: It won’t be published.

  EDITH: Thank you for that vote of confidence, Papa.

  Jimmy is serving Mary.

  CORA: This is our new footman, Mama. What should we call you?

  JIMMY: Jimmy —

  CARSON: James, your ladyship. This is James.

  ROBERT: Welcome to Downton, James.

  JIMMY: Thank you, m’lord.

  He retreats, at Carson’s suggestion.

  MARY: Well done, Carson. That must have cheered up the maids.48

  VIOLET: He looks like a footman in a musical review.

  EDITH: Poor Alfred. We mustn’t allow him to be completely overshadowed.

  CARSON: Quite right, m’lady. Hard work and diligence weigh more than beauty in the real world.

  He goes out into the pantry.

  VIOLET: If only that were true.49

  51 INT. KITCHEN STAIRS. DOWNTON. NIGHT.

  The two young men are coming down.

  JIMMY: I’ve never been ‘James’ in my life. I was ‘Jimmy’ to Lady Anstruther —

  CARSON: I don’t care if you were Father Christmas to Lady Anstruther. You are ‘James’ now, and you will stay ‘James’ while you are at Downton.

  He has been walking behind them. Now he goes on ahead.

  JIMMY: He thinks he’s the Big Cheese and no mistake.

  ALFRED: That’s ’cos he is the Big Cheese.

  Thomas and O’Brien are standing further back.

  O’BRIEN: He’s nice, that new bloke, isn’t he? I think he likes you.

  THOMAS: Why do you say that?

  Thomas looks at her, trying to fathom her purposes.

  O’BRIEN: Oh, only an impression, that’s all.

  O’Brien walks away and, in spite of himself, Thomas is pleased by this. He smiles and walks away, leaving
O’Brien to her own nefarious devices.

  52 INT. DINING ROOM. DOWNTON. NIGHT.

  The three men are left alone with the port. Branson stands.

  BRANSON: If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to bed. Can you tell the others?

  ROBERT: Tomorrow, we’ll make some plans.

  BRANSON: I don’t know how.

  He walks to the door, then he stops.

  MATTHEW: You’ve lived out of Ireland before. Surely you can again.

  BRANSON: But Ireland is coming of age now and I need to be part of that. But I know what you’ve done for me. I know you’ve kept me free. And I am grateful. Truly.

  He nods stiffly at Robert and goes, leaving them alone.

  MATTHEW: Poor chap. I’m sure he is grateful.

  ROBERT: No, he’s not. He says it to keep the peace with Sybil. But then I only rescued him for Sybil’s sake, so I suppose we’re even.

  He takes a drink.

  ROBERT (CONT’D): Did you get a chance to look through the books they brought in?

  MATTHEW: As a matter of fact, I did.

  ROBERT: Could you make head or tail of them?

  MATTHEW: I think so. Yes. I was waiting for a good moment to discuss them.

  ROBERT: Oh?

  MATTHEW: Yes. There were some aspects of the way things have been done that I wasn’t… quite sure about…

  ROBERT: You sound like Murray.

  MATTHEW: Do I?

  ROBERT: He’s always banging on about how we should overhaul this or overhaul that. Nothing’s ever right for him.

  MATTHEW: Well, I hesitate to say it…

  ROBERT: Come on. We should let them get in here. We can talk about it another time if you really want to.

  Robert stands. Matthew is able to recognise a brush-off.

  53 INT. YORK PRISON. BATES’S CELL. NIGHT.

  Bates reads a book when the door opens and Turner the warder looks in and throws a packet of letters onto the bed.

  TURNER: These came for you, Bates.

  BATES: When? When did they come?

  TURNER: They came when you were out of favour. Now you’re in favour again.

  BATES: Why? What have I done?

  TURNER: Just watch out for Mr Durrant. You’re not a favourite with him.

  He goes, as Bates starts to untie the bundle of letters.

  54 INT. KITCHEN PASSAGE/MRS HUGHES’S SITTING ROOM. DOWNTON. NIGHT.

  Carson is going through some papers when he stops, and starts sniffing. Smoke is coming from Mrs Hughes’s door.

  CARSON: Oh, my —