The Madness of King George Page #4

and his friends

were not perched in the rafters

waiting to come in.

We consider ourselves blessed

in our constitution.

We tell ourselves

our Parliament is the envy

of the world.

But we live in the health

and well-being of the sovereign

as much as any vizier

does the sultan.

The sultan orders it better.

He has his son

and heir strangled.

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!

- Cricket? Pa?

- How's that?

- What, what?

- Well played, hey, hey?

To watch it, sir, was quite

distasteful. He was not himself.

Warren, what do you think?

I'm not the king's doctor.

No, nor ever will be.

He's more likely to go

to my tailor than my doctor.

But, sir, this is not the same.

Could he be ill?

Um...

Yes.

Morning, sir.

(All) Morning, sir.

Ohh. Ah.

Sherry...

What would happen

if the king were ill,

hmm?

I mean, gravely ill.

Your Royal Highness would have

to be declared regent.

Regent?

King in all but name.

With all the powers.

Subject to Parliament.

Charles, don't quibble.

(Charles) And certainly...

all the funds.

(Laughter)

Ha ha ha ha.

Just think of it.

Regent!

Prime minister.

(Chuckling)

America forgiven.

London rebuilt.

Parliament could be reformed.

A palace on Primrose Hill.

The slave trade abolished.

Yeah! Yeah!

Oh, yes. All that, too.

(Charles) Sir...

Is he ill?

Well, he's not well.

(Chuckling)

(Laughter)

I know, I know.

One day.

One day.

(Clock chiming)

It's 4.00.

Where are you, sirs?

What is this?

The king is unattended.

Up with you, sirs!

Braun!

Fortnum!

Papandiek!

Where are you, sirs?

What's the matter, sir?

It is morning.

That is the matter.

Not being attended to

is the matter.

And don't mutter or mutter

will be the matter.

What time is it, sir?

What is that to you?

The King is up.

When the King is awake,

you're awake.

Six hours sleep

is enough for a man,

seven for a woman,

and eight for a fool.

We've had three.

We went to bed at 1.00.

Is that insolence, sir?

No, sir. Arithmetic.

Oh. What's your name?

Fortnum, sir.

Fetch me my breeches.

- Yours?

- You know my name, sir.

Don't tell me what do

and don't know. What is it?

Papandiek, sir. Arthur, sir.

Is it Arthur?

Yes, sir.

- And yours?

- Braun, sir.

- And yours?

- Fortnum, sir.

Well, come on, boys...

We're missing

the best of the day.

(King) Come on!

Run! Look at the weather!

(King) # Awake my soul

# And with the sun ... #

Please, sir!

# Shake off thy...

(All) # Shake off dull sloth

# And joyful rise

# To pay thy morning sacrifice #

Where's that rascal Braun?

He's not gone back to bed.

I'm here, sir.

Well, give me my shirt, man.

This is calico, a hair shirt.

Fetch me another.

Another shirt, a softer one!

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