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[Doorbell rings]
[ Door opens ]
[Doorbell rings]
[ Door opens ]
Well?
Uh, Mrs. Pratt's agency sent me.
Well?
I've come about the position.
House parlourmaid, was it?
Under-house parlourmaid.
I am the house parlourmaid.
Well, come in.
I'll tell Mr. Hudson you're here.
Who's Mr. Hudson?
The butler.
Oh, the bloke all in black at the front door?
Wait in there.
[ Door slams ]
Ooh!
Oh, my finger!
Oh, it's half coming off.
It's not gone altogether, then, has it?
Oh, I daren't look.
If you've got blood on them potatoes, my girl,
you can throw them away and start all over again.
- Mrs. Bridges, look. - And get a move on, girl.
Who are you when you're at home?
-[ Bell rings] - Where's Alfred?
He's taken my buttonhooks again. I know he has.
Well, what am I going to do?
Go to Mr. Hudson, Miss Roberts.
Don't come whining 'round me.
I'm all behind like a cow's tail.
Well? Well, spying, are you?
No. I've been sent by an agency.
What have you done with my buttonhooks?
- Oh! - Alfred!
Get out from under my feet, the pair of you!
-[ Bell ringing] - Somebody answer that bell!
Alfred!
Cat got your tongue, has it? Well, be off with you.
No. I'm just about to explain.
Blood everywhere!
Nobody cares.
SARAH: My name is Clemence.
Clemence. I've come about the position.
Clemence!
What sort of a name is that?
MISS ROBERTS: Answer me! Are they in your silver box or not?
A silent woman is above rubies.
- MRS. BRIDGES: Well? - It's a French name.
French! Huh.
We don't want no foreign muck in here.
None of your nasty haute cuisine, thank you very much.
Greasy mutton again, then, Mrs. Bridges?
Oh!
None of that behaviour in my kitchen, Mr. Pearce.
- Get back to your stables - Oh, Mrs. --
And be off with you!
Oh!
The milk's caught!
Now see what you've made me do. Oh!
This place will be the death of me.
What's wrong with mutton anyway?
- I'll bleed to death. - Good.
Oh, look, hasn't anyone seen my buttonhooks?
All 12 have vanished. Well, what's to become of me?
Let your discourse be, "Yea, yea," and, "Nay, nay,"
for whatsoever is more than this is of evil.
MISS ROBERTS: Oh!
SARAH: [ Gasps ]
Who's he?
Alfred, the footman.
Take no notice of him. He was brought up religious.
I thought I told you to wait in there.
I'm sorry. Cook said she wanted to --
I said nothing of the sort.
And it's Mrs. Bridges, if you please, not Cook.
This is a gentleman's house.
Not making a very good start, are we?
Well, come on. Mr. Hudson's Waiting for you.
[Clock ticking]
The new girl about the position, milady.
Mm. Yes, Hudson. Ask her to come in, will you?
"To whom it may concern, the bearer..."
SARAH: [ Sneezes ]
"...the bearer of this letter
is well recommended for domestic..."
Mm-hmm.
What is your name?
Clemence Dumas.
And you are French?
Half French.
You must call me "milady" when you reply.
Oh. I'm sorry, milady.
This letter appears to be from someone
Whose name I cannot read,
who lives at the Château Lac du Chant near Lyon.
I haven't heard of it.
No, neither had I, milady, till I got there.
Why did you leave your previous employment?
My mother took sick, and I had to return to England.
- I hope she's better now. - Oh, milady?
It's important to be able to concentrate on your work.
Oh, that's all right. She died.
I'm sorry.
I must assume the agency has checked your reference.
Yes, that's right.
You're new to service, are you not?
ALFRED: [Mumbling]
They'd never take that girl on.
Her!
She couldn't tell a feather duster from a boa constrictor.
Quite unsuitable.
She went to the front door.
You're quite right, Rose.
Untrained and blind to all decency.
Is luncheon ready, Mrs. Bridges?
I confess to a wholesome appetite.
Two shakes of a lamb's tail, Mr. Hudson.
I've had trouble with range again.
Damp's got into the coal.
- Hasn't it, Emily? -[ Bell ringing]
Oh. That must be the morning room.
Yes.
Mr. Hudson!
Right. Thank you, Rose.
Clemence Dumas.
Fancy trying to get into service with a name like that.
Well, I hope she gets taken on. I liked her.
It's not for you to hope,
nor not to hope neither, for that matter, Emily.
It's for you to keep the fire in.
You let it go out on purpose.
Oh, I never did.
The coal's wet.
And that's Alfred's fault.
He always leaves the coal-house door open.
I'll put you in the coal house.
Ashes to ashes and dust to dust.
Don't pass blame, Emily.
Ah, now you're against me, too.
Oh, yes, Hudson.
I intend to engage this young woman.
She'll have her dinner in the servants' hall
and collect her belongings afterwards.
Rose can show her what to do.
And the young person's name, milady?
Sarah.
No, my name is Clemence.
Clemence is not a servant's name.
Yes, but I don't like...
Go with Hudson, Sarah.
And remember, you're here on trial.
Yes, milady.
Mr. Hudson, do I have to be called Sarah?
- Yes. - I don't like it.
It is not for you to question your betters.
- Are you my better? - indeed I am.
What makes you better than me?
I'm not being rude. I just want to know.
I am older than you and therefore wiser,
and I have learnt humility.
[Inhales deeply] You?
It is a hard lesson, but once learned, never forgotten.
How did you learn it?
My grandmother was a proud woman and died of starvation.
I just can't abide cold food.
Greasy mutton.
MRS. BRIDGES: It'll taste all the better for the...waiting.
Emily, another plate.
Alfred, get a chair.
Thank you, Emily.
[Clears throat]
May the Lord bless our endeavours
and grant us conciliation to that rank
in which in his infinite mercy he has seen fit to place us.
And for what we are about to receive of his great bounty
may we be truly grateful
that in the end we may find favour in His eyes
and sit in honour at his table.
Amen.
- Amen. - Amen.
MRS. BRIDGES: [Clears throat, coughs]
Sarah is joining us
as under-house parlourmaid, Miss Roberts.
Indeed, Mr. Hudson.
On trial, I take it?
On trial.
Rose, you are to instruct Sarah in her duties.
Yes, Mr. Hudson.
With a good heart and a glad will, if you please, Rose.
Naturally, Mr. Hudson.
That's Miss Roberts. She's her ladyship's personal maid.
That's Mr. Pearce. Mr. Pearce is the coachman.
- That's Emily. Emily does -- -[ Knocking ]
Silence, if you please.
Everyone is served, Mrs. Bridges.
Thank you, Mr. Hudson.
You may talk.
Mutton again.
And what's wrong with mutton, Mr. Pearce,
with a nice drop of caper sauce?
Nothing, Miss Roberts. Nothing at all.
Perhaps you'd prefer to eat hay like your horses?
Forget I spoke, ladies.
Can I have the caper sauce, please?
It's not food for young women.
Overheats the blood.
Millions would be grateful for what we have, Mr. Pearce.
PEARCE: Yes, Mr. Hudson.
Wouldn't you agree, Sarah?
Mr. Hudson's addressing you, Sarah.
Oh.
I'm sorry.
It's just that the name's so unfamiliar.
C-Couldn't I be called Clemence, if only down here?
In all my years,
I've never heard of such a name belowstairs.
What ever was your mother thinking of?
Search the good book from cover to cover and not find that name.
Lady Marjorie's wishes must be respected.
PEARCE: Clemence.
[Chuckles] Good name for a filly, I'll say that.
But hardly a human.
I think it's a lovely name.
As I was saying,
millions would be grateful for mutton once a week,
let alone mutton once a day.
Wouldn't you agree, Sarah?
Yes, Mr. Hudson.
HUDSON: [ Chuckles ]
Did you really live in France, Sarah?
- Yes. - And were you in service there?
- No. I lived in a château. -[ Glass clinks]
Once I had my own maid like Lady Marjorie.
I think we must learn to take Sarah's statements
with a pinch of salt.
I don't lie.
Didn't say you did. But she just exaggerates.
If her ladyship finds Sarah satisfactory,
I'm sure we all do.
It is not for us either to choose or judge
our companions in service, Rose, as you know very well.
Have a little more caper sauce, dear.
Thank you.
Say something in French, then.
Some other time.
-[ Laughs ] - What are you laughing for?
- Don't you believe me? - You're as English as I am.
I'm not.
My mother was a Gypsy.
I can read hands and tell the future and put curses on people.
Lord preserve us. The witch of Endor herself.
If my mother was a Gypsy, I wouldn't speak of it.
I nearly ran off with the Gypsies once when I was a girl.
That was a long time ago.
Oh, not as long as all that, Mrs. Bridges.
A little more sauce, Mr. Hudson?
I think there's just a scrape left.
- HUDSON: Thank you. - I'm not ashamed of my mother.
She was a Gypsy princess and very beautiful.
More mutton, Mrs. Bridges?
Just a morsel, thank you, Mr. Hudson.
Uh, a French count saw her and married her,
and she died giving birth to me.
Well, my father married again -- a very wicked woman.
And when he died, she treated me like a servant.
And in the end, she threw me out altogether.
But I've got lawyers fighting for me,
and in the end, I'll come into my own.
In the meantime, I must live as best as I can.
EMILY: Oh, it's just like a story in a book.
Exactly, Emily. A tale from a penny novelette.
All very Well for a kitchen maid,
but not what one expects from a house parlourmaid.
Say something in French. Go on.
Would you like me to read your hand for you, Mrs. Bridges?
Shall she read my hand, Mr. Hudson?
By all means, Mrs. Bridges, if it pleases you.
After dinner.
EMILY: Oh, do mine. Do mine.
Wicked nonsense.
There are more things in heaven and earth, Rose.
Truth is stranger than fiction.
It's unhealthy and dangerous.
Not if you have a clear conscience.
It isn't given to mortals to know the future.
Oh, yes, it is, but it's against the will of God.
Look what happened to King David.
He didn't do so bad, though, did he?
Dirty old devil. [ Laughs ]
My gift comes from God, not a devil.
- She ought to be locked up. - HUDSON: Rose!
That's enough.
Well, why won't she say something in French, then?
Answer that. 'Cause she can't, and that's why.
Because she don't choose to. That's why.
Don't let these old prudes upset you, Sarah.
What's for pudding, then, Mrs. Bridges?
Roly-poly, Mr. Pearce.
And don't you go telling me nothing I don't want to hear,
or you'll get your ears boxed.
Even as King David went to the witch of Endor,
so did Mrs. Bridges seek knowledge from our Sarah here.
Someone's gonna get struck by lightning.
"Our Sarah."
Say something in French. Go on.
If you can.
ALFRED: Hm. Very nice.
♫ Auprés de ma blonde ♫
♫ Qu'il fait bon, fait bon, fait bon ♫
♫ Auprés de ma blonde ♫
♫ Qu'il fait bon dormir ♫
[Hinge squeaks]
-[ Metal rattles] - Come on! Get up!
- It's half past 5:00! ROSE: Aah!
Oh, Alfred! I'll kill you!
Where am I?
You're in Mr. Bellamy's house in the servants' quarters.
Where else?
And it's time to get up.
SARAH: [ Sighs ]
[Wind blowing]
If we get behind in the morning, there's trouble all day.
- So up with you. -[ Groans ]
Me legs won't work. Me feet are cold.
Oh, they will, 'cause they must.
It's half past 5:00.
It's better once you're up.
SARAH: [ Sighs ]
[ Gasps ] Oh.
[ Spits ]
Well, come on. You'll be late.
[ Yawns ]
I trust you can remember your duties.
When you're dressed and ready, what then?
Uh, I must make sure
that Emily's got the range working properly
so that Mrs. -- oh -- Bridges can get on.
Then lay up breakfast in the servants' hall.
Then there's Lady Marjorie's tray.
Don't forget to shine up the milk jug, for goodness' sake.
And don't leave sticky finger marks.
The last girl always did.
Then there's the servants' breakfast.
Suppose I'm allowed to sit down and eat.
After breakfast,
make sure Emily's not hiding in the boot hole again.
If she is and won't budge, inform me.
I shall be brushing and dusting
in the drawing room and the morning room.
Well, go on.
Uh, then upstairs and clean out the grates
and relay and light the fires.
If I can find the matches.
You've got a good memory. I'll say that for you.
Oh!
Quiet as a mouse doing the grates, please.
Call me to draw the master's bath.
I'd better do that for the time being.
But you fetch the hot water.
Now, if the boiler is troublesome,
you'll have to use the hot-Water kettle.
Now, after the baths, I'll lay upstairs breakfast.
I'd like you to help me there.
And make sure Emily's got all the boots and shoes done.
She keeps falling asleep in the mornings.
I don't know why.
And keep out of Mr. Bellamy's way, whatever you do.
Why?
Just pretend you're not there, especially in the mornings.
Scruffy boots. That will never do.
Do you want to borrow a pair of mine?
- I have a spare pair. - Thank you.
Bit small, I daresay, but better sore feet than shabby boots.
Oh, and today's the day for fresh bed linen.
Now, it's a bit of a rush
because it's got to be done while they're having breakfast.
[Sighs ] And Lady Marjorie eats like a little bird.
Oh, and the towels, of course.
- I'll never remember it all. - If they're at all damp...
Well, you must.
Anyway, here's a list.
Oh, I forgot...
You've got it upside down.
Oh, so I have.
Put your collar studs in, girl.
I'm cold.
Mm. Well, work soon warms you.
[ Coughs ]
[ Blows ]
Oh, Mrs. Bridges will kill me.
[ Blows ]
Oh, and I'm late with their morning tea again.
Oh. Oh, get the fire blown up for me, will you?
It's not going properly yet.
It never has, and it never will. Who gets blamed?
[Doorbell rings]
Oh. Who are you?
I work here.
Good luck to you, then.
- Where is she? - Who?
Who do you think?
EMILY: Oh, it's you, Matty.
She's on her way down now, only I was late calling her.
She's in such a wax.
You should be laying out the servants' breakfast. Go on.
Yeah.
Well, go on!
MRS. BRIDGES: You're 10 minutes late!
[Shouting indistinctly]
Pull your hair and tweak your nose, Emily,
till you'll wish you hadn't got one!
Tea like dishwater!
Not fit to drink. Not that it ever is.
If you put boiling water on that pot, my girl,
may lightning strike me before it gets to you.
Oh, I swear I did, Mrs. Bridges.
Cross my heart and hope to die.
Bubbling its head off, the kettle was.
Oh.
SARAHI Oh.
She's Waiting for you, Mrs. Bridges.
- Who? - Matty.
Matty?!
Why didn't you say so?
Put a cloth on the table before you lay up.
- There you are, Matty. - Thank you.
It's a nice plump one.
Thank you.
[ Door closes]
Morning, Rose.
ROSE: Morning, Mrs. Bridges.
Sarah, what are you thinking of?
Why isn't that table laid? What have you been doing?
RICHARD: I shall require my best silk hat.
HUDSON: Very good, sir.
I'll send it 'round to the hatters
for ironing this morning.
The, uh, new under-house parlourmaid, sir.
RICHARD: I see.
HUDSON: Sir.
Oh, it's quite nice, isn't it?
But why change?
Morning's for housemaids, afternoons are parlourmaids, see?
- Oh. - Come on.
Is that kettle boiled yet?
EMILY: Almost.
Get the silver sugar bowl from the cupboard.
SARAH: What for? - Her ladyship's tray.
She'll be expecting it when she comes in.
The milk Jung's in the larder, Rose.
There we are.
Where does Lady Marjorie go to in the afternoons?
Playing cards mostly or just driving in the park.
To while away the time, I suppose,
till Mr. Bellamy gets home from Parliament.
I wouldn't fancy it.
Oh, I would.
Imagine driving 'round and 'round in a fine carriage
with strong White horses and everyone looking at you.
-[ Hoofbeats ] - That'll be her ladyship back.
Always punctual.
Here. I'll take it up.
No. Not until she rings for it.
And I'll take it up this afternoon.
You can fetch it -- if you behave yourself.
A very pleasant afternoon, milady.
Yes, isn't it, Hudson?
Your tea, milady.
Thank you, Rose.
Mrs. Bridges thought you might be a bit hungry, milady.
Rose, how do you find the new girl?
Quite satisfactory, milady.
I hope you're looking after her.
Of course, milady.
Will that be all, milady?
She claims to be something of a seamstress,
so I set her to repairing the tapestry cushion.
I thought we were going to send it out, milady.
It's very old and very delicate.
Otherwise, of course, I would've undertaken it myself.
She has delicate fingers and nice, neat movements.
Yes, milady.
Will that be all, milady?
I'd be interested to see it as soon as she's finished it.
Very good, milady.
If I was rich, I'd have a little cottage in the country
and no one to shout at me and lots of kids.
I'd never forget their names the way our mam did us.
Oh, that's boring.
That's not exciting.
I want excitement.
Time for a chat, I see.
Tea's a poison. It's full of tannin.
Sarah? - Yes?
I thought you were supposed to be sewing
Lady Marjorie's cushion.
I hope you know it's worth hundreds of pounds.
You might at least be getting on with it.
- I've done it. - Where? Show me.
Oh. I see.
Well, you'd better take it up to her, then, hadn't you?
What, now? I haven't finished me tea. Oh.
That's beautifully done.
SARAH: Thank you, milady.
Where did you learn to sew like that?
- Uh, in a convent. - In France?
Yes, that's right.
Were the nuns good to you?
Most of the time.
But sometimes they'd dress me in a long canvas robe
and shut me up in a dark cell
with no food or water for a whole day.
Why?
To teach me to be thankful, milady.
- What for? - God's mercy.
That was a strange way of bringing you to know it.
Yes, that's what I said, and back I went.
What other talents have you besides sewing?
- None, really. - Are you sure?
Well...
...I can tell fortunes -- hands and tea leaves.
I could do yours, milady.
- What nonsense. - No, I'm very good at it.
- I'm never wrong. - I know what my future is.
Do you, milady?
Very well, Sarah. What do you see there?
A tall, dark stranger from overseas, I suppose.
Yes, there is.
Bringing good fortune with him?
Bringing mixed fortune, good and bad.
He bears a sword, and --
and he's about to use it and should not.
Dear me.
Does it mean something to you, milady?
Indeed it does not.
You see, there's first an increase in Wealth,
then a decrease.
Now, you are surrounded by many friends,
and they all wish you well except one, a false friend.
How alarming.
You should Watch your health.
That's all, milady.
Oh.
There's a gentleman of great authority near the rim,
nearly out of the picture, but I think --
Yes, I think he's coming nearer to you.
Yes -- Mr. Bellamy. He'll be home soon.
- This is superstitious nonsense. - No, milady. I--
Now, that'll do, Sarah. You can go now.
Sarah?
[Ringing]
Mr. Bellamy wanting to dress for dinner.
MISS ROBERTS: Her ladyship's evening gloves.
Oh, there she is ringing me.
I can't be in two places at once.
Alfred, are you sure you haven't seen them?
Gloves. What should I know about gloves?
Well, I-l was sewing a button on them.
You must have seen them!
Alfred, take these up to the dressing room.
Give the trousers a final brush before you lay them out.
Now, remember, that waistcoat is white and must remain white.
Now, look sharp. The carriage is ordered for 8:00.
Emily!
-[ Bell ringing] - Yes, Mr. Hudson?
More coke in the boiler at once.
The bathwater's not properly hot yet.
Everything at the last minute.
Put gloves in Alfred's night box and make sure that her pearls --
Cool and calm, Miss Roberts. Cool and calm. Be temperate.
ROSE: Mr. Hudson? - Yes?
The carriage is here,
and Mr. Pearce wants to know what time they're leaving.
Tell him 8:00. He's early.
No, no. Not there, my girl. In that pantry.
Hat, sir.
Hudson.
[Clock chimes]
[ Hoofbeats ]
Where are you going?
Out.
It's the Gypsy in me. I can't bear to be shut in.
Does Mr. Hudson know you're going?
It's only for a minute.
You have to ask him, or you'll get into trouble.
Well, I'm not asking him,
and you're not gonna tell him, are you?!
- No. Right.
Then I'll tell your fortune for you when I get back.
But if you breathe a word to a living soul, I'll curse you,
and your blood will turn to ice in your veins,
and you will die horribly within the week.
There.
MISS ROBERTS: [ Sighs ]
You'll ruin your eyes, Emily.
What's it matter?
I won't be needing them much longer.
No?
When I breathe, I get a pain.
The good die young, they say.
And I have the impression on me chest.
[ Coughs ]
I wish you'd stop reading that rubbish.
It isn't rubbish. Things like that do happen.
I think Sarah's more tragic and more romantic
than anything in a book.
I would lay down my life for her if I was asked.
Would you? Well, Where is she, then?
I do not know. I am silent.
What's the matter with you?
Torture me to death if you wish. My lips are sealed.
For goodness' sake. I only want her to turn down the beds.
It's on her list as clear as daylight.
Or do I have to do her work, too?
And you can pull out my toenails one by one,
and I still shan't speak.
What's the matter with that girl?
Why isn't she in bed?
Uh, I want to wait up till they come back.
- There won't be anything to see. - There might be.
They -- They might bring someone with them.
Oh.
A tall, dark stranger from across the seas
Who'll fall in love with me and take me away from all this.
It's Sarah. She's been putting ideas in her head.
She has strange powers. She sees things we can't see.
Stuff and nonsense. We can't have this, can we, Mrs. Bridges?
We cannot.
I was just going to fetch some bread and cheese.
Would you care for a bit, Rose?
Very much, Mrs. Bridges. I am a bit peckish.
Emily, you sure you don't know Where Sarah is?
Well, she's not in the kitchen. She's not in the pantry.
Emily, look at me.
I want the truth.
All right, then. Who's been at my larder?
Where's Mr. Hudson?
It's a matter for the police, nothing less.
- Mr. Hudson! - Well, what's happened?
Somebody's stolen a bird out of my larder.
- That's what's happened. - Are you sure?
You think I don't know me own larder?
Mr. Hudson!
Emily, Where is Sarah? She hasn't gone out, has she?
- Did you call, Mrs. Bridges? - I did indeed, Mr. Hudson.
Why was that, Mrs. Bridges?
Because a plucked and dressed bird cannot walk, Mr. Hudson.
We have a thief in our midst.
A human pox. A chicken stealer.
And when I lay my eyes on her, I'll skin her alive.
- EMILY: Or him. Silence!
Kindly assemble the staff in question.
If that's what you want, Mrs. Bridges.
How long has the melancholy fowl been missing?
20 minutes, Mr. Hudson, since I last saw it laying on the shelf.
In that case, we have the staff in question assembled,
with the exception of Sarah, who seems to be temporarily absent.
You would hardly steal your own bird, Mrs. Bridges,
and then complain of it.
We know Rose would not, could not.
And if Emily had done it,
I swear there would still be feathers 'round her mouth.
It was a plucked and dressed bird, Mr. Hudson.
Not a feather left upon it.
Even the back fluff was singed.
I was speaking in metaphor, Mrs. Bridges.
I'm led to the conclusion that the guilty party
is none other than Sarah, the stranger in our midst.
Not a Gypsy princess after all, but a common thief.
I knew it.
And what is to be done with a creature so unnatural?
I stole it.
And in what dark hole, I wonder, is she hiding?
It was me, not her.
- Emily knows. - I know nothing.
I don't want my blood turned to ice.
Oh, all this fuss about a bird.
It was you who summoned me, Mrs. Bridges.
Well, perhaps a rat took it off.
Or a team of cockroaches working in harness, I daresay.
A principle is at stake, ladies.
A chicken today, emeralds tomorrow,
and the whole staff under suspicion.
It is not, after all, as if Sarah had the privileges
granted by custom and common humanity to the cook.
When she comes back, I'll skin her alive.
Oh, I swear.
I swear I don't know Where she is.
- if she comes back. - |-| swear.
It would be better for everyone if she didn't.
Well.
Sarah, I never told them.
HUDSON: Sarah, come in here.
EMILY: But I never said a word.
- HUDSON: Shut the door. ROSE: Liar.
Hypocrite. Slut.
Walking the streets at night.
HUDSON: Rose, that's enough of that.
You too, Emily.
We have reason to believe that you have stolen a chicken
from Mrs. Bridges' larder,
that you have crept out into the night
to dispose of your forbidden loot
and have returned with your ill-gotten profits
concealed about your person.
What have you to say for yourself?
Well?
If Mrs. Bridges can do it, why the hell shouldn't I?
Well?
[ Hoofbeats ]
[ Footsteps approaching ]
Thank you, Alfred.
You may go to bed now.
Thank you, sir.
[Sighs]
- You'll have nothing, my dear? - No, thank you.
Strange to see Archie Hasleff across a dining table again --
and his new wife.
But I see why it all happened.
What eyes that Woman has.
One can hardly excuse it.
It's the thin end of the wedge, you know.
Soon we'll see divorced people everywhere,
be obliged to chat and smile as if it were nothing unusual.
In a moment, I'm afraid you will say,
"And the old Queen, hardly cold in her grave."
Well, it's true. I don't like change.
Goes too quickly, becomes not progress but disintegration.
Spoken like a good Englishwoman.
And an excellent wife for a Tory politician.
Oh, tomorrow doesn't bear thinking about.
Joe Chamberlain on tariff reform again,
and the front bench shuffling in its shoes.
The prime minister should be more firm with him.
My father wouldn't have put up with it.
Your father!
He'd have run England single-handed if he could.
He knew the value of firmness and resolution.
And you are your father's daughter.
I hope so.
Well, don't bother your pretty head.
- These are men's matters. - Don't say that.
Now, why should I not bother my head?
It has precious little else to fill it.
No. You do so much.
- What do I do? - You run this house.
The servants do that in their own way.
Yes, and a lot goes on that I know nothing about.
I saw a light downstairs. The servants are still up.
Have some hot milk.
Everyone Worries too much about me.
No, don't ring.
You know I don't like bells ringing late in dark corridors.
One day, you know, if things go on as they have been,
you might ring and ring, and no one would ever come.
- Mm? - There'd be nobody there.
I'm not as bad as you think. Don't get the police.
HUDSON: You're a thief. Do you deny it?
When I saw Mrs. Bridges doing it, I thought anyone could.
Then you were wrong to think that you were as good as her.
No, I didn't think of it that way.
- Please. - Oh, "please," is it now?
We have changed our tune, haven't we?
Look, I'll never do anything like it again.
I've given the money to Mrs. Bridges.
What good will it do to have me pinched?
I thought we was all on the same side.
Poor girl. One could pity her, I suppose.
- She's a moral imbecile. - What have I done to you?!
You pretend to be something you are not.
You make yourself out to be better than us.
Not better.
Just more interesting.
Well, it does no one any harm. It's only a bit of fun.
How can lies be fun?
They're not lies. They're make-believe.
You are what you are.
There's no escape, not for you or me.
There must be some escape!
Well, to be an under-house parlourmaid is not so terrible.
I think it would be Wonderful.
In a minute, I'll remember you're here, Emily,
and send you to bed.
But I-l ought to be here, Mrs. Bridges, as a lesson to me.
What in?
Pride going before a fall. Uh, murder will out.
Oh, a stitch in time saves nine.
Anything you like, I believe you,
but please don't send me to bed.
- Bed! - Oh, please!
Nothing exciting ever happens.
Why can't I stay up and Watch the police take her off?
Because the police aren't coming, Emily.
Not if Sarah chooses to confess her faults.
You are a common, ignorant, worthless girl, Sarah.
- Can you deny it? - No.
ROSE: And a liar and a thief.
Yes.
You are an ordinary person, Sarah, like the rest of us.
Yes.
And you told lies to Lady Marjorie.
You lied your way in where you had no right.
Yes.
And you have no French blood in you, let alone noble blood.
No.
And you are lucky to have found this home with us.
Yes.
Very Well.
- The police need not be called. - Thank you.
- But upstairs must be informed. - Oh, no.
With a recommendation for mercy.
Well, coming from you, Rose, I'm sure it will be accepted.
Look, don't tell Lady Marjorie. I'd be so ashamed.
Oh, she's not all bad, you see.
She's capable of remorse.
Look, take this Bible, Sarah.
And read...
...read this page.
You will find written there the Ten Commandments.
Now, take note of the sixth commandment --
“Thou shall not steal“
Now repeat it to yourself.
Make her write it out like at school.
Not a bad idea, Mrs. Bridges.
Rose, fetch the pen and paper.
She will write it out a dozen times in her best hand,
just to suit you, Mrs. Bridges.
Oh, thank you, Rose.
There, now.
Take the pen and write for Mrs. Bridges,
“Thou shall not steal“
I-I can't, Mr. Hudson. I can't.
Go on, girl. Write.
Mrs. Bridges is Waiting for proof of your reformation.
No. Please.
And why not?
It's just...
[Voice breaking] I can't write!
[ Sobs]
I don't know how.
You can't Write?
Not even me own name.
Mr. Hudson.
What, didn't they send you to school?
I was needed at home.
Didn't your mother learn you?
I never had no mother.
I was everyone else's mum from the age of 5.
They went to school. I stayed home.
She's very upset.
I think perhaps, Mr. Hudson...
I daresay you're right, Mrs. Bridges.
What?
I daresay there's no necessity to tell them upstairs
about this unfortunate incident -- a missing chicken.
A dog, a cat -- Who's to say?
These things will happen,
even in the best-regulated households.
Thank you.
Now up you go to bed, my girl.
Yes, Mr. Hudson.
Go on. I'll do that, girl.
HUDSON: Oh, Rose, I'll turn down the lamps.
Just you tidy up a bit, will you?
[ Door closes]
[Gasps]
Did I startle you?
No.
It's just I wasn't expecting no one.
- They've gone to bed. - Who?
The master and Lady Marjorie.
Oh.
- Let you go up there. - Hmm?
Bit of trouble downstairs.
Raised voices and heard Mr. Hudson's mostly.
Oh, that. Uh...
We were just having a bit of an argy-bargy
down there, all of us.
Little contretemps, you might say.
Tell you something, Sarah.
They're all hypocrites, the whole lot of them.
Write out the sixth commandment --
Thou shall not steal.
How do you know that? You wasn't there.
I know everything that goes on in this house.
You was listening at the keyhole.
[Gasps]
There's violence and sin in all of us.
Filth and degradation.
Let go of my arm, Alfred.
Beware the lusts of the flesh.
Stop it.
Let me go to bed.
Kate was the same.
Who's Kate?
Under-housemaid before you.
Lust not for thy neighbour,
for the wrath of the Lord shall be visited upon you.
[Gasps]
ROSE: It's cold. Go to bed.
Nice big empty rooms down there, and us crammed up here together.
Well...
Who slept in this bed before me?
A silly girl called Kate.
What happened to her?
She isn't here anymore.
Why not?
Curiosity killed the cat.
I expect she just withered away.
I'll probably find her
all shriveled up in the corner like a dead insect.
I know.
I'll ask Alfred what happened to her.
Shall I?
He's only up TOP-
I could pop up there and ask him.
You've got to be up at 5:00. I hope you know your list.
Yes.
But you can't.
You can't read.
- Oh, I was only saying that. - Oh!
I was only making it up.
Then read to me now.
If you're not struck dead by lightning.
I'm sorry.
I don't know what comes over me.
It must be difficult for you, I suppose.
I'll get up with you in the morning and show you what to do.
Thank you.
Now go to sleep, or we'll be good for nothing in the morning.
Why are you being so good to me?
I like the house to run properly, that's all.
We should all help our neighbors.
I used to dream of all kinds of future for myself.
Never thought I'd end up in service.
It's not so bad.
Safe.
You know where you are, and what's gonna' happen next.
The outside world is dangerous.
Nobody seems to ask us if we're ignorant.
You know, if you could read and write
you'd not be so frightened.
and then, perhaps, you'd behave yourself.
There're so many things I wanna' do and be.
And time passes so quickly.
You've got to learn to accept.
But, I was gonna' be married once.
Huh.
He was killed in the war in Africa.
They gave him a medal for being so brave.
Silly bugger.
Why did you go into service, Rose?
Aw...well...
when I was a girl, on Lady Majorie's family estate,
a carriage used to pass our cottage door
every Thursday on it's way to market.
And the lady and gentleman, wot' rode in the carriage,
well they'd once been like butler and housekeeper
for a big family house nearby.
My mother put me into service, so I, too, would
ride in a carriage one day.
[Sigh]
That was quite a sacrifice for Rose.
Oh, just sometimes, I do wish that carriage
had taken another route to market.
You're very clever, aren't you, Rose?
Umm.
But you've got more... for fever...
What?
[Man's voice heard outside]
[Shush heard]
[Man's voice again]
[Voice louder] Listen Rose, what is it?
[Voice shouts] Oh, it's only Alfred
having one of his bad dreams.
-Does it happen often? -Quite often.
He's a bit touched, you see.
Oh.
But Mrs. Bridges looks after him.
Well, we all do, really.
No ritter.
He's one of us.
[Small sounds from Alfred]
He's not...he's not gonna' murder us
-in our beds, is he? -No.
I'll take care of you.
What's the matter?
I don't know.
I'm nervous mostly.
Would you like me to brush your hair?
Uh, huh?
Well, my mother used to do it for me when I was little.
It makes you go to sleep.
All right.
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