Cora laughs.
CORA: Oh, perhaps I have. Pretty.
She admires some flowers as she gathers her thoughts.
CORA (CONT’D): The point is, my dear, I don’t want you, any of you, to feel you have to dislike Matthew.
MARY: You disliked the idea of him.
CORA: That was before he came. Now he’s here, I don’t see any future in it. Not the way things are.
* * *
MARY: But you and Granny are going to overturn all that.
CORA: Suppose we can’t?
* * *
MARY: I don’t believe a woman can be forced to give away all her money to a distant cousin of her husband’s. Not in the twentieth century. It’s too ludicrous for words.
CORA: It’s not as simple as that. The money isn’t mine any more. It forms a part of the estate.
MARY: Even so, when a judge hears—
CORA: For once in your life, will you just listen!
She has shouted at her daughter, shocking them both.
CORA (CONT’D): I believe there is an answer which would secure your future and give you a position …
MARY: You can’t be serious.
CORA: Just think about it.
MARY: I don’t have to think about it. Marry a man who can barely hold his knife like a gentleman?
Cora laughs.
CORA: Oh, you exaggerate.
MARY: You’re American. You don’t understand these things.
* * *
A real insult from a daughter. Cora comes back, fighting.
CORA: Really, Mary, anyone would think he’d turned you down.
MARY: Don’t be ridiculous.
But her tone suggests Cora may be on to something.
* * *
MARY (CONT’D): Have you mentioned this to Granny? Did she laugh?
CORA: Why would she? It was her idea.
* * *
30 INT. BACKSTAIRS. DOWNTON. EVE.
Carson is coming downstairs. Anna going up.
CARSON: Anna, I’m glad I’ve caught you.
She waits patiently while he gets his nerve up.
CARSON (CONT’D): When I was … collecting that food earlier … for his lordship.
ANNA: Yes, Mr Carson?
CARSON: I hope you didn’t feel the need to mention it to anybody?
Anna hesitates. She never actually told Bates, but …
CARSON: When his lordship makes donations—to charity, you understand—he doesn’t like notice taken of it.
He goes downstairs and she continues up, seriously puzzled.
* * *
END OF ACT TWO
ACT THREE
* * *
31 INT. KITCHEN. NIGHT.
William is waiting as Daisy loads a tray. He is reading a book, which is making him smile.
DAISY: What’ve you got there?
WILLIAM: A book of the new dance steps. My Mum sent it.
DAISY: Let me see.
He shows her a page with drawings of a couple dancing the Grizzly Bear. They study the foot pattern, curiously.
DAISY (CONT’D): Go on, then.
William holds the book and starts to execute the steps, but somehow he gets them wrong, trips himself up and crashes into the table. Daisy roars with laughter.
DAISY: Whatever will they think of next?
MRS PATMORE: They’ll think there’s a hyena loose in my kitchen.
She has stolen up on them.
DAISY: Sorry, Mrs Patmore.
* * *
32 INT. DINING ROOM. DOWNTON. NIGHT.
William enters the dining room, where the two families are at dinner. There is a slightly stiff atmosphere.
ISOBEL: I thought the hospital a great credit to your father’s memory.
She smiles at Robert, which he receives pleasantly.
ISOBEL (CONT’D): But I’m afraid the good doctor and I did not see eye to eye.
VIOLET: You amaze me.
ISOBEL: He’s treating one of your tenants, John Drake, for dropsy, but he seems reluctant to embrace some of the newer treatments.
ROBERT: Drake is a good man and far too young to die, but I suppose the doctor knows his business.
VIOLET: Not as well as Mrs Crawley, apparently.
But Robert wants things to go well. He changes the subject.
ROBERT: By the way, if you ever want to ride, just let Lynch know and he’ll sort it out for you.
MARY: Oh, Papa. Cousin Matthew doesn’t ride.
MATTHEW: I ride.
Her insolence is irritating, but she is a match for him.
MARY: And do you hunt?
This time, of course, she has assessed him accurately.
MATTHEW: No. I don’t hunt.
VIOLET: I dare say there is not much opportunity in Manchester.
MATTHEW: Are you a hunting family?
MARY: Families like ours are always hunting families.
ROBERT: Not always. Billy Skelton won’t have them on his land.
MARY: But all the Skeltons are mad.*
MATTHEW: Do you hunt?
MARY: Occasionally. I suppose you’re more interested in books than country sports.
MATTHEW: I probably am. You’ll tell me that’s rather unhealthy.
MARY: Not unhealthy. Just unusual. Among our kind of people.
Which is flattening. The others are uncomfortably aware that the dinner has turned into a duel. Carson leaves.
33 INT. SERVERY. NIGHT.
Carson comes in. Mrs Hughes is there, rearranging china. Daisy loads trays of dirty plates from the previous course.
MRS HUGHES: I’m changing round the dessert services. We always seem to use the Meissen and never the Spode.†
CARSON: We’re missing a sugar sifter. I know I put three out.
MRS HUGHES: I was talking to Anna earlier—
Carson stands as if he’d been shot.
CARSON: Why? What’s she been saying?
Mrs Hughes stops her work, taken aback by his tone.
MRS HUGHES: Whatever’s the matter?
CARSON: What did Anna say?
MRS HUGHES: Only that she thinks Thomas is bullying William.
Carson is immensely relieved. He nods.
CARSON: She may have a point. I’ll keep an eye out. Ah. Here it is.
The sifter was behind some dishes. He takes it and leaves.
34 INT. DINING ROOM. DOWNTON. NIGHT.
As Carson returns, Mary is still taunting Matthew.
* * *
MARY: Do you ever read Greek mythology?
MATTHEW: Why?
* * *
MARY: I’ve been studying the story of Andromeda. Do you know it?
The others know Mary. They sense something is coming.
MATTHEW: Why?
MARY: Her father was King Cepheus, whose country was being ravaged by storms and, in the end, he decided the only way to appease the gods was to sacrifice his eldest daughter to a hideous sea monster. So they chained her naked to a rock, and—
VIOLET: Really, Mary. We shall all need our smelling salts in a minute.
MATTHEW: But the sea monster didn’t get her, did he?
MARY: No. Just when it seemed he was the only solution to her father’s problems, she was rescued.
MATTHEW: By Perseus.
MARY: That’s right. Perseus, son of a god. Rather more fitting, wouldn’t you say?
MATTHEW: That depends. I’d have to know more about the princess and the sea monster in question. Perhaps they were well suited.
He looks at her with a challenge in his eyes. They don’t like each other, these two, but there is something sexual happening between them. Which she feels as much as he.
* * *
MARY: Oh, I don’t think so. Not at all.
* * *
The family continues to eat, this time in silence.
35 INT. SERVANTS’ HALL. NIGHT.
Several of them are there. Daisy flicks through William’s book, while William plays the piano
in the background.
DAISY: I wish I could dance like that.
THOMAS: Like what?
He snatches the book and stares at the page.
THOMAS (CONT’D): Don’t you know the Grizzly Bear?*
BATES: As if you do.
THOMAS: Certainly, I do. Miss O’Brien, shall we show them?
O’BRIEN: Not likely.
THOMAS: William! Give us a tune. Come on, Daisy.
William’s annoyed to be forced to play but Anna nods and he does. Thomas seizes the amazed girl and starts to dance.
MRS PATMORE: Daisy, stop that silly nonsense before you put your joints out. See to the range and go to bed.
She is watching from the door. A breathless Daisy prepares to obey but, as she lets go of Thomas, she smiles at him.
DAISY: Thank you. That was beautiful.
Thomas rather enjoys the whispered compliment.*
36 EXT. DOWNTON. NIGHT.
Robert and Cora are at the door as Matthew walks Violet across the gravel. Isobel is already climbing into the car.
VIOLET: I’m sorry Mary was rather sharp, this evening.
MATTHEW: I doubt that Cousin Mary and I are destined to be close friends.
She is sad about this, but she has to agree for now.
MATTHEW (CONT’D): I don’t blame her. Her father’s home and her mother’s fortune are to be passed to me. It’s very harsh.†
* * *
VIOLET: Of course, in Spain or Portugal, Mary would be her father’s heir.
He nods, but does not argue, which interests her.
* * *
VIOLET (CONT’D): What would you say if the entail were set aside in Mary’s favour?
MATTHEW: I should try to accept it with as good a grace as I could muster.
VIOLET: Would you? Good evening, Taylor.
TAYLOR: Good evening, m’lady.
He stands by the open door, bringing conversation to an end. She climbs in, followed by Matthew.
37 INT. CARSON’S PANTRY. NIGHT.
Carson is putting the silver that was used at dinner into his safe. He looks at a candlestick as Mrs Hughes enters.
MRS HUGHES: I’ll say goodnight, Mr Carson.
CARSON: Look at that scratch. I’ll have to get it sorted out when they’re up in London.
He holds out the candlestick. She stares at it.
MRS HUGHES: You can hardly see it.
CARSON: But I’ll know it’s there.
MRS HUGHES: Are you all right now? Only you seemed a little upset earlier.
CARSON: I’m sorry about that. I’m just—
He was caught off guard, and almost confided in her. He takes up his pipe and starts to light it.
CARSON (CONT’D): I’m a bit tired.
MRS HUGHES: And no wonder. Did the dinner go well?
CARSON: Well enough. Although they won’t make a match between them, if that’s what they’re thinking.
MRS HUGHES: Lady Mary doesn’t like him?
CARSON: Why should she like the man she’s been passed over for? And why has she been? That’s what I’d like to know.
MRS HUGHES: It’s the law.
CARSON: Then it’s a wicked law.
38 EXT. KITCHEN COURTYARD. DOWNTON. DAY.
At a table in the yard, O’Brien has Cora’s evening coat, wrapped in linen, as she sews the button on. Thomas fiddles with a clock. He has oil and screwdrivers and cloths. They are both smoking surreptitiously.
O’BRIEN: Why does Mr Carson let you do that?
THOMAS: Because my Dad was a clock-maker. Anyway, this is from the Morning Room. It isn’t a good one.
O’BRIEN: Did you really ask Mr Carson for the job with the Crawleys?
She gives a snort of derision, which he finds unfair.
THOMAS: I’m sick of being a footman.
O’BRIEN: I’d rather be a footman than wait on someone who ought to be a footman, himself.*
THOMAS: But he shouldn’t have told Bates.
He glances at her as he continues to poke inside the clock.
THOMAS (CONT’D): How are things with Lady G.?
O’BRIEN: Same as usual.
THOMAS: Yes, my lady, no, my lady, three bags full.
O’BRIEN: I’d like to give her three bags full. Preferably on a dark night.
THOMAS: Will you hand in your notice?
O’BRIEN: And let her ruin me with a nasty reference? Oh, I think not.
O’Brien bites the thread fiercely as the clock chimes.
39 INT. DRAWING ROOM. DOWER HOUSE. DAY.
Doctor Clarkson is with Violet.
CLARKSON: I don’t want to exaggerate. She’s been very generous in many ways.
VIOLET: Generous? To instruct you in your own practice?
CLARKSON: She may even have a point. But it does not seem to me realistic—
VIOLET: Nor is it! Put an end to her meddling! I am your President and I say get rid of her.
* * *
CLARKSON: What does Lord Grantham think?
She thinks for a moment how to suggest Robert’s agreement.
VIOLET: He’s as shocked as I am that she’s attempting to teach you to suck eggs. Tell her you don’t need her help.
* * *
CLARKSON: Won’t that be awkward? I gather she’s planning to stay in the village for the foreseeable future.
VIOLET: No one can foresee the future, Doctor. Not you, not I, and certainly not Mrs Crawley.
40 EXT. THE PARK. DOWNTON. DAY.
Robert is with Matthew, surveying the house from a hill.
ROBERT: You do not love the place yet.
MATTHEW: Well, obviously it’s—
ROBERT: No. You don’t love it. You see a million bricks that may crumble, a thousand gutters and pipes that may block and leak, lead that will shrink, and stone that will crack in the frost.
MATTHEW: But you don’t.
ROBERT: I see my life’s work.*
MATTHEW: Was it ever in danger?
ROBERT: Many times. My dear Papa thought the balloon would go up in the 1880s.
MATTHEW: What saved it?
Robert looks at him for a second before he answers.
* * *
ROBERT: Cora. I often wonder what the good Isaiah Levinson would have thought, when he built that first emporium in Cincinnati, if he knew that the fruits of his toil would save a seat of unearned privilege.
MATTHEW: For the benefit of a man who does not share his blood.
Robert chooses not to answer this.
MATTHEW (CONT’D): So, it’s safe now.
ROBERT: It is healthy. Nothing in life is safe.
He walks towards the house with his almost-son.
41 INT. DRAWING ROOM. CRAWLEY HOUSE. DAY.
Isobel is sealing an envelope when Molesley enters.
ISOBEL: I have an errand for you, and it will be quite an imposition.
MOLESLEY: Very good, ma’am.
ISOBEL: Tomorrow, I want you to travel to Manchester, to this address, and to put this letter into the hands of Doctor Gordon. He will give you a package in return.
She is almost defiant enough to frighten the butler.
* * *
42 INT. SERVANTS’ HALL. DOWNTON. DAY.
Anna is cleaning some satin ball slippers with breadcrumbs. Bates comes in, carrying a hunting coat. He looks round.
BATES: Where is everyone?
ANNA: They’ve gone down to the village. Some travelling salesman’s set up at the pub for the afternoon.
He sits and starts to clean the brass buttons, by means of a split card to protect the material beneath them.
BATES: Alone at last.
He’s joking, but is there a trace of a blush on her face?
BATES (CONT’D): We shouldn’t be without both footmen. Does Mr Carson know?
ANNA: Mrs Hughes does. She’s gone with them. They won’t be long.
He nods at the ballroom slipper she is working on.
BATES: So, you see to the girls and yo
u’re supposed to be head housemaid. You should put in for a raise.
ANNA: What d’you mean ‘supposed to be’?
He laughs. He really does like her, no question. They are interrupted by the sound of a bell ringing.
* * *
BATES: What’s that?
* * *
Anna jumps up to look at the bell board. It’s the front door. They are both caught out by this.
BATES: I said they shouldn’t have let both footmen go.
ANNA: Well, you’ll have to answer it. Mr Carson wouldn’t like a maid answering the front door.
* * *
BATES: He’d be afraid they’d think it was a doctor’s surgery.
* * *
He has already risen. He walks towards the main hall.
43 EXT. ENTRANCE. DOWNTON. DAY.
A smooth character, Charles Grigg, stands there, looking like a travelling salesman. He pulls the bell again.
44 INT. HALL. DOWNTON. DAY.
Bates opens the door.
BATES: I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, sir.
* * *
GRIGG: So that’s why it took you so long.
He casts a sneering look at Bates’s stick.
* * *
GRIGG (CONT’D): I’m here to see Lord Grantham.
BATES: Is he expecting you?
GRIGG: No. But he’ll be very interested in what I have to tell him.
BATES: His lordship is not at home, but if you will leave your name, I—
Downton Abbey Script Book Season 1 Page 9