Garrow's Law (2009–…): Season 3, Episode 4 - Episode #3.4 - full transcript

This importunate person is with you?
George Pinnock, sir.

I hope I will be allowed to
remind you of the place for me,

at the Admiralty.

You will not be forgotten.

I will use my influence with Hill
to get him to give over Samuel.

So Melville wills and Garrow acts.

What can I do?

Nothing.

Your son... Take him.

I've come for my son.

Let it be known that the candidates
for the seat of Westminster



are Sir Cecil Wray
and Sir Charles Fox.

I hereby declare this
place of voting now open.

Fox, Fox, Fox, Fox, Fox!

Sarah?

Mr Garrow, forgive me.

I know there are things to contrive.

I would take that burden from you
and from Lady Sarah if you wish it.

For the laying to rest.

Sarah's not at home.

She may not be so for some time.

But I will see to those matters.
I would take it...

I will see to it.

Thank you.

Then I shall be about my business.



See who comes.

A man who would rule the world

if only he could stay out of
the courts long enough.

God. What now?

Who gave you this?
Who gave you this?

Cannot the man have one
day without incident?

Scuppered by the foy
madness of a woman in the...

Sir, there is such wickedness
as hell cannot conceive

in this vile place.

Sir, I am the man
to find a barrister

to represent your case in court.

But you must help me with answers.

I walked from Ludgate Hill
to Covent Garden

to place my vote at the election.

And came upon a most
uproarious scene

where constables obstructed
my effort to vote for Mr Fox.

And blows were exchanged?
To my discredit...

yes.

Whereupon I was taken in. And were to be
charged with the breaking of the peace.

I was told it would be so.

But as I stood before the magistrate
I heard the charge as murder.

Such was the haste of that
dialogue that I only now know,

because you tell me, who it is
I am said to have murdered!

Mr Joseph Casson. Who you neither
knew, saw, nor struck down that day?

Never!

On my oath.

Well, if that is so
we shall bring it out.

And I hope we shall have
the best man to argue it.

I have money.

I fear money alone may not lay
hold of this man's interest, sir.

I may have to recruit Mr Southouse,
God rest his soul, to our cause.

Good day, sir.

Sir Arthur, how splendid!

My Lord Melville.

I noted you with a
messenger just now.

Not troubling news, I hope?

It need not detain us, my Lord.

But, please.

You know well your troubles are mine.

All too often, perhaps.

The news was of my son.

The boy is abducted by its mother?!

My Lord, please.

Should you not now scurry away
and take care of that trouble?

It will, I think, keep.

At least until we have
discussed other matters.

I am here, as arranged,
to learn news of my new post.

I gave Prime Minister Pitt a
true appraisal of your qualities.

And I trust you will not
be disappointed with

Second Under Secretary to his
Ministry for Harbours and Landings.

Harbours and Landings?

By far the most
prestigious position on,

ahem, the Yorkshire coastline.

You expected more?

My Lord, I feel... for the service
I gave I am owed more than that!

Owed, sir?

Yes, sir. Owed, sir.

Then I must put plain what I
have long wished to report.

Gentlemen, look upon Sir Arthur Hill,

whose extravagant self-pity is
out-weighed only by his vanity.

And his vanity is often bested by
an ignorance of the most crude

political skill.

He is of no use.

None at all.

My Lord. Good day, sir.

Go now and see to your
ridiculous wife and her paramour.

It is a murder, Mr Garrow,

of a gentleman struck down on voting
day for the Westminster seat...

Mr Pinnock...

You will see here that, although
constables were sent in

to keep the peace at election
that day, that they themselves

lay into the crowd of voters
with their batons.

Mr Pinnock, did I not
make myself plain?

I did not ask for your service
in preparing this brief.

Indeed, I have not asked
for the brief at all.

I see your humour, Mr Garrow,
and accept that you did not.

But I thought you knew...

Mr Southouse did.

You will explain yourself.

He had me set the case aside and
mark the date of its beginning.

He spoke of it...

as a nonsense that you might
enjoy being appalled by.

Come on!

We begin, Miss Casson.

Garrow, I...

knew you a good servant to Mr Fox
and his kind, but I thought

the sad business of Mr Southouse
would have kept you from this place.

It seems it is Mr Southouse
himself who will not let me.

Mr Silvester?

My Lord, gentlemen.

Amid the noise and clamour of an
election for that very important seat

of Westminster, a great body of
men, friends and supporters

of that radical Mr Fox,

did attack local constables sent
to keep the peace.

I will show by evidence
that this fellow Nicholson

did knock the aged and innocent
Joseph Casson to the ground...

Rained down violent
blows upon his head

and, in doing so, took his life.

I call the witness, Thomas Davy.

I came upon a sight
of great spectacle.

Supporters of Mr Fox and Sir Cecil
Wray crying out for and against.

The butchers, as tradition demands,

clacking together their
marrowbones and cleavers.

And the whole scene...

Mr Davy!

Might you leave off
these dazzling depictions

to those of the press paid to do it?

The matter here is murder.

I ask your pardon, my Lord.

Indeed, the mood then did darken.

As Fox's ruffians, armed
with bludgeons, sought to

satisfy their violent appetites.

And in the ensuing melee,

you saw Joseph Casson
struck and fall?

I saw this man, as clear as you
see him now, with arm raised high.

And I saw the man I know now to be
Joseph Casson fallen to the ground.

I see here, in the margin

of the magistrate's record of your
statement, there is a note added.

Added by a very fine attorney.

Tell me if it is, as he puts it
here, that you are the man,

"Who passes his days
abusing with fine language"

"those gentlemen associated
with Mr Fox"

"and did once throw dirt at
the person of Mr Fox himself."

Do you question my honour, sir?
Were you not also paid, sir,

paid to rally against all
those who stood for Mr Fox?

In fact, is not your performance here
a continuation of that employment?

How dare you that?

Who but a Fox man
such as you, sir,

would defend this other Fox man?

Mr Davy, we are not
voting here today.

We are about a man's life.

Do you claim you saw the blow struck,
sir, that murdered Mr Casson?

I saw the tableau of that
tragic death most vivid.

Answer the question, Mr Davy.

Did you see this "Fox man"
strike Joseph Casson?

I will confess it.

I did not.

You cannot say that this
man struck the blow.

Your prejudice is clear.
This prosecution is fantastical.

Now, gentlemen...

Mr Garrow...

Where is Lady Sarah?

To answer plainly, I do not know.

I wish most sincerely that I did.

You would have me believe you played
no part in her abduction of my son?

I know nothing of this, sir.

Nothing.

But if it be true...

I know nothing of where
she or they might be.

Believe me.

And you will believe this.

Your sour inamorata has once
again sabotaged my career

and my prospects.

Such scandal in the
hands of Lord Melville

is a poison to my endeavour.

Are you not Faust to his devil, sir?

No, sir!

And even if Sarah is run
off to France with the boy,

I will pursue her.

And I will bring an end to this.

Sir Sampson Wright, there is
a problem at the Bailey,

with the witness. Find another.

Go, too.

I call Joshua Gilmore.

I do not see this man
on the indictment.

With your permission, my Lord.

The man I would call
is a new discovery.

I will allow it.

Mr Silvester, continue.

Mr Gilmore, you were at the
Covent Garden on May the 10th

and saw the fracas involving
this man Nicholson?

I did, sir.

And saw Joseph Casson struck by
that man in the blood red coat,

Hubert Nicholson, with a large stick
with a nub to the end of it.

Are you sure that that man was
the man struck the deceased?

I'm sure of it. Upon my word,
upon my honour and upon my oath.

Sir, you appear nowhere in the coroner
or magistrate's account of this matter.

Why did you not go before the
coroner to report any of this?

My reason was this, sir.

I, came up to the Bailey
yesterday about a little

business I have of my own

and saw from the notices displayed
that this matter was to be tried.

You came here by chance yesterday?

Yes, sir. I see.

Do you not agree, although
I myself believe every

breath of your testimony,
that for the gentlemen of the jury,

there might be some small
room for speculation?

That the first you heard
of this business was today

in some small coffee
house off Silver Street?

Where certain officers of the law gave
you this speech to learn by heart?

They would scapegoat this
man and corrupt this court.

I have objection, my Lord.

Once again, he all but
lectures the jurymen.

Mr Silvester, whilst I
abhor Mr Garrow's habit

of gossiping with my jury,

I feel I can only agree
with his concerns.

I've heard enough.

Gentlemen, even supposing you can
possibly credit the witnesses

examined for the prosecution,
you will find nowhere, I regret,

a reliable account so to connect
Nicholson to the death of Casson.

But it is for you to determine whether
you will not acquit the prisoner.

My Lord, we find not guilty.

Court shall rise.

Miss Casson.

Mr Garrow.

Forgive my calling at your home.

But I am occupied by a question
and have need of your help.

I regret I am unable to give it.

Being concerned at
present with other things.

I confess I was bewildered by what I saw
pass for justice in court yesterday.

Madam, justice was hardly present,

and little of what you
saw was concerned with

the death of your dear father.

I saw the trial was,
in great part, politics.

And I am at most naive in
matters political but...

Madam, forgive me, but for the sake
of your own peace,

you might let go of
the cold mechanisms

of your father's passing and...

allow instead the fonder memories
of his living to replace them.

If you ask that of me,

then you do not understand
grief at all, sir.

Madam, I promise I do.

You enter a room...

expecting him there and he is not.

You smile at some small thing and
anticipate recounting it to him

but you cannot.

You chase a painful idea...

around in your head that,

"If only I had done or not done this
or that thing..."

"..he would still be
standing beside me now."

But you cannot.

And he is not.

It seems...

you have the shape of my grief.

I wonder, then, how you refuse
a service which might,

in some degree, abate it.

Is it not your profession?

It is.

But forgive me, I am taken up
by a disquietude of spirit

and by my own sorrows.

I fear you will discover
that this inaction

shall only compound your distress.

Miss Casson.

You say you are occupied
by a question?

A simple one.

If Mr Nicholson did not kill my
father, I would know who did.

It is far from orthodox, Pinnock,

and I am sure that your
uncle Mr Southouse would

protest at this being your first
lesson in the business of attorney.

However, a double crime
has been committed.

One against a free man who
wished only to vote.

The other, the murder
of a decent man.

We will act for Miss Casson, first
as investigator, then as prosecutor.

We will find the guilty party
by first finding witnesses to

the events at Covent Garden.

Mrs Jacob of St. Martin's Lane.
Mr Abbott, Beadle of St. Paul's.

William Foskett of Beech Street.

Mr Nicholson gave up
this information.

And you would trust
Mr Nicholson impartial?

I spoke to Foskett and Abbott and
they both, to my ear, sound true.

Yet they were invisible
in Nicholson's defence.

Well, both claim they were
turned away from the magistrates

by police constables.

Ha! I see you are well suited to
espying things well hidden, sir.

Perhaps we will exchange roles.

I would have you find Lady Sarah.

I will see to it.

And I will see the man who
commands these constables.

Sir Sampson Wright
passes his regrets, sir.

He is detained with matters of...

Mr Garrow.

I see you would be Nero, sir, as
London burns with your injustices.

And I see you are vexed, sir.

Is your objection to my playing?

Or to some small matter of law?

Here listed, are my objections.

You, sir, are directed to protect
the free citizens of this society

and yet you made war against
a gathering of its people.

You, sir, are a mechanism of justice

and yet when a man was
killed in your unjust war,

you twisted your efforts

so an innocent man
would hang for it.

You, sir, are charged with
safeguarding a frail democracy

and yet, because you fear that Mr
Fox will win the Westminster seat,

and from there challenge this
illegitimate government, you had

your men steal the right to do so
from those who would vote for him.

You do not deny this last?

Or any of it.

And do the heavens shake?

No.

But you've made your brave
liberal speech. Bravo.

Although I fear the world outside
this window is not changed.

Have you no deeds in you
or just more clacking?

Indeed, no more clacking!

Mr Garrow.
He will regret this provocation!

Mr Garrow, I've got
news on the other matter.

Concerning Sarah? Yes.

So soon, how?

Sir Arthur Hill cast a
wide net for information.

So I merely diverted the
fish into me own hands.

And is she in this country still?

She is. You'll find
her at this place.

William.

Sarah.

I'd thought you in France.

Sir Arthur is wild at
you for this outrage.

And also finds himself out of favour
which angers him still more.

William. I... I fear that he will...

bring this anger to your door.

I have acted wrongly, Sarah.

We have both acted on
inescapable need.

Yours to be bound by principle.

And mine to be with my son.

We have tried always to
change our circumstance,

by law, by pleas, by threats.

Yet I cannot turn and
walk away from here.

I would so have you stay.

You would scarce believe how empty
our small rooms are without you.

My small bed is too
large and too desolate.

I cannot look back at
what I have left behind.

Mr Jenner, William Jenner, reported,

"And there came a
head constable with

silver-tipped bludgeon
striking most violently."

The military fellow, Garston?

Captain Garston, "The general cry
was very strong that Mr Casson"

"was knocked down by a constable."

"This man, a long-faced fellow,
with a scar... here, was very busy"

"and struck away very violently."

As the Fox supporters waited
to gain entry to the vote,

the constables on the
steps did push 'em back,

raining blows on all who
made to come forward.

You would have given
such evidence had you

not been prevented
by the magistrate?

I would. And told the court
I saw what man it was

struck down the old fellow Casson.
You saw who struck the blow?

The fellow made a blow at me.

He wore a two-curled wig.

There was about him
something devilish,

and just here, a vivid scar.

Will you help us identify him?

Constable, I am William Garrow,
barrister. What is your name?

I know you, sir.

I'm Richard Lucas.

Constable Lucas. As a free citizen,
I make here an arrest...

Damn you, barrister! ..

For charges of the
murder of Joseph Casson!

Let him have his say.

I will not stop him.

You seek to bring charges,
sir, against this constable?

I do. And act on behalf of Miss Emeline
Casson, daughter of a murdered father.

For which murder
I charge Richard Lucas.

Order is given,
the charge be examined.

I thought myself dead
and visited by a vision.

Guardian angel, perhaps.

I fear you have need of one, William.

What brought you back?

William...

I have thought
on what I comprehend of my husband.

His weakness is power.

That is what we must feed.

And, by some fashion, convince him
to give up Samuel voluntarily,

we must bargain him into agreement.

What goods have we to sell, Sarah?

His hunger for power has put him
the wrong side of Lord Melville.

He now stands in great need
of influence.

We must exploit that need.

Perhaps Melville is the goods.

Think on this, that Melville did
expose an unguarded flank.

He was most keen I should not explore
his interests in the colonies.

Why?

We will search Lord Melville's
pockets...

and we will find his transgression.

Mr Garrow.
What is this rough treatment?

Sir, I am no fist-fighting man,

but neither am I a man
whose obligations

can be deflected by
blows or threats.

Admirable spirit.

I trust a hot head will not cloud
your attempts to prosecute Mr Lucas?

It will not.

And rest assured that I aim an axe
not at the branch but at the tree.

Mr Garrow.

My Lord. Gentlemen.

Another jury on another day,
in this court...

has made judgment already that the
supposed guardians of the peace...

did falsely accuse an
innocent of murder.

This jury will judge
if it be true or not...

that this constable,
a peace officer,

a man in whose hands the
good order of society is held,

did commit the act that brought
the death of Joseph Casson.

If this be true,
as I will seek to prove, gentlemen,

there must be great concern to limit
the power of those

who command this constabulary,
this standing army...

who act against the good of all,
and for their own ends.

My Lord, I call Mrs Jacob.

Did you see a patrol of constables
strike with cudgels

those gathered at Covent Garden
on May 10th?

I did, sir. And did you see who
struck Joseph Casson?

I did. That fellow, Lucas.

And struck him where, Mrs Jacob?
On the left side, on the temple.

Madam, how many do you judge crowded
outside the election place at this time?

Close to 100 constables

and 500 to vote for Fox or for Wray.

And, betwixt yourself
and the tragic moment,

a tableau of shifting, animated
life, full of noise and haste.

I saw what I saw, sir.

You seem of great conviction to not
even question your own certainty.

I have questioned my memory of the
event... You have questioned it?

You have doubted it was Mr Lucas
you saw?

That is not what I meant, sir.

I think the jury have heard you.

Mrs Jacob, for clarity.

Have you doubt that it was Lucas you saw
make the blow that killed Joseph Casson?

I have not.

Thank you.

My Lord, I would question
the defendant, Richard Lucas.

Very well.

Mr Lucas. Before your present post
as constable,

you were a soldiering man?

I was, for ten years.

Served in the American War
under Sir Hector Monroe,

fighting for the East India Company.

Now you are captain of constables
in your own patrol?

Yes.

And during your years as a soldier,
did you often disobey a command?

Never, sir.

You think that impertinent of me?

I do! It's against all I know.

The chain of command is a strength.

It is the heart and power
of the regiment.

And of a patrol?
I do not follow you, sir.

Your patrol.

Instructed in its duties by whom?

Given orders by who, sir?

Chief Magistrate Sir Sampson Wright.

My Lord, I call Sir Sampson Wright.

Did you command constables
from the Tower Hamlets to go to

Covent Garden election
ballot on May 10th?

I did.

They were to...
And did it not fall to you

to brief them on the
detail of their task?

My Lord. Yet again, we follow a line
of such tremendous irrelevance.

Mr Garrow, what is your purpose here?

My Lord, it is my intention to show
that the death of Joseph Casson

came in the course of another
criminal act,

that of perverting
the democratic process.

And therefore?

My Lord, where an accomplice is
involved, it matters not

if this accomplice struck no blow or
was not close by the scene.

And you wish to extend the charge to
other constables?

Not to other constables, my Lord.

Mr Garrow, Mr Silvester, I will see
you in my chambers. We adjourn!

Explain yourself, Mr Garrow.

If Sampson Wright sent the
constables into Covent Garden

with the express
intention of preventing

supporters of Mr Fox
from casting their vote,

then he set in motion a crime that
led to the death of Joseph Casson.

And if you prove that to
have been his aim,

you would make a case to prosecute
the chief magistrate?

I would, my Lord.
Charged with constructive murder.

I hardly believe this. Sampson Wright!
Peer of His Majesty's Government?

What we consider in this place,
Mr Silvester, is a man's deeds,

not his title.

My Lord, surely you cannot
give this idea light?

Cannot? Mr Silvester,
you are not yet made judge.

I will allow that you
follow this line.

You may have your duel
with Sampson Wright.

We will adjourn until tomorrow.

Sarah? Have you informed Mr Pinnock
that you have eyes on his position?

William, all of these papers chart the
business of Lord Melville's Admiralty.

They record the flow of goods and the
funds for purchase of those goods.

Somewhere here, we will find Lord
Melville's transgressions exposed.

And how are you so sure?

Because he's a politician,
and they're unable to handle

the public purse without emptying
some into their own.

I had not known that you esteemed
them so high.

You forget, sir, I married one.

George...
An exceptional thing, Mr Garrow.

The fellow you prosecute, Mr Lucas.

He's asked to speak with you this
hour in his cell, at Bow Street.

Mr Garrow.

Is it not custom for a man charged
as you are, sir,

to seek out the barrister for him,
rather than the man opposed?

There'll be time
enough for Mr Silvester's counsel.

He will tell it, I shall not hang.

I will tell it, I know I shall.

That will end our business.

But I wish to hear, in plain
words, your business.

You must know you will put no
noose around Sampson Wright's neck.

Why not?

There is no man, and surely a constable
must agree, who stands above the law.

As a man with little time left to
him, I welcome your straightness.

Then give me some
straight speaking in return, sir.

Are you minded to defend
Sampson Wright?

What you said in the courtroom
was more than true.

What applies to a regiment, applies
also to a patrol of constables.

A man must follow orders...

and hold his tongue.

But?

There is a "but" at the back of
your tongue, sir.

You would do well to speak out.

All manner of merchandise.

Indigo dye, saltpetre, tea, opium.

Nothing damning carries
Lord Melville's signature on it.

Nothing to stain his character.

He takes great caution...
Except this.

Relating to speculation in land...

in Trinidad.

We mustered at the Wood Street Hotel
to have the names called over.

The 30 I captained, any recruiting
sergeant would turn away.

Many fresh from a Newgate cell.

Most held a constable's bludgeon
in his hand for the first time.

And all the while, the clamour
outside tightening our nerves.

We waited on instruction.

Instruction from Sampson Wright?
The same.

He took it on himself. He was Henry
at Agincourt, such was his oratory.

He called the day the last to save
the soul of a nation.

Fox was the enemy. Fox was a devil.

His supporters would have us
live like Frenchmen in our own land.

We must swing out with fervour.

And they were won
over by all of this?

They were.

Every one of them.

And God forgive me,
I was the same.

My blood and nerves filled up
by the glory of battle recalled.

30,000 of us

against Washington's raw troops.

British ships in New York Harbour,

shaking the ground beneath your feet
with cannon fire.

Farmhouses burning.

Shattered men screaming
in the blind, choking smoke.

And above all of this,
the one purpose.

To seek out and put down your enemy.

Those men at Covent Garden were
not your enemy, sir.

As the fog dispersed,
I saw they were not.

They were men like Joseph Casson.

He was under my cudgel before
I could hold back this...

drummed up anger.

Mr Lucas, unless I am
sufficient as your confessor,

you would do well to
testify this in court.

And Sampson Wright will be revealed.

Unless, of course, it is some other
arrangement that you seek?

A pardon?

I fear there's no pardon
to be had for me from this.

No, sir. Not in this life.

Then the next one?

I am not the judge of that.

Then I will say my piece...

in this one.

Mr Lucas is to be moved.

I have had word he is for Newgate.

I believe, unless his philosophy
is entirely altered,

Sir Arthur will wrench this
evidence from your hand.

Indeed, this will do it.

Well hidden, in plainest sight.

But no less explosive for that.

I shall take my leave.

And I shall take this to the man
who will best use it.

I am to have your child.

Comedy or a tragedy?
Sir Arthur.

I had a three-shilling ticket to
a box at Sadler's Wells.

This performance is
worth foregoing that.

But is it a tragedy of
vaulting ambition denied,

or a comedy full of
fools and mismatched love?

I suppose you as weary of this extended
skirmish we conduct, as I am myself.

So be it. If I hurry I still make
the second half. Good evening, sir.

But you will miss the opportunity
to avenge Lord Melville.

If you have the means, I would
have you share it, sir.

I will.

There is a price on it.

No sharp words for me this fine day,
sir?

There will be opportunity to converse
with me from the witness stand, sir.

Mr Garrow,

I am unsure whether to admire your
optimism or mock it.

Mr Fox.

What could bring you here this day?

Why, YOU do, sir.

You do.

George?

Thank you.

There is a matter I've
struggled much with.

I hand this to you, for my client.

I fear Mr Lucas will not be
with us today.

We cannot continue.
My Lord Buller, this is a barbarity!

Consequent upon the death in confinement
of the accused, Richard Lucas...

You will not silence anyone
with this treachery, sir!

I have here a man's statement!

I am required to dismiss
the gentlemen of the jury...

"I, Richard Lucas, fearing I will
not survive this night

and that my death will cheat both
jury and hangman's noose..."

and bring this trial to its end.
Jury is dismissed!

"..Will have it known by what agency
the men of my patrol were"

"sent to lay violence upon
those minded to"

"vote against the Government
and to Mr Charles Fox."

Fox, Fox, Fox, Fox!

"Chief Magistrate Sir
Sampson Wright, by his"

own impassioned appeal
to our baser selves

"and demands for blood,

"did stoke up the fury of those
constables"

"and did so fierce set my own
savagery that I did strike out"

"and take the life of the innocent
Joseph Casson."

"May God have mercy on my soul."

They fear us, Mr Garrow.

We kick at the tent poles.

We do not fit and we will not
change...

and so we irk them.

Our enemies, our detractors.

My apologies to you, sir. You did
not come here to see a trial lost.

No, I came to support
a man who toils

because he recognises a fellow
innocent unless shown otherwise.

And because he aches for change.

And you have not lost.

Your prey has only gone to ground.

We will flush him out,
and others like him.

And I hope that your conscience
will be my light...

and that my influence can be yours.

By God, sir! I have no more time for
your whining!

Did I not speak my mind plain
enough?

My Lord, such is my humour today

I might suffer the very worst of your
bombardments and yet smile.

See? Like so.

Now I fear you are mad from your
continuing wife troubles, no doubt.

Not mad, sir, but elevated,
by a secret revealed.

And expressed in just three
plain words.

Aye, sir. Mister. William. Garrow.

No, sir. He is the source, but the
secret lies in three more words.

The Trinidad Treasury.

My Lord Melville.

I see the cogs in your noggin turning
fit to smoke on their pins.

Sir Arthur.

Did I not say, since
last we spoke, that I

have been with the Prime
Minister once again?

See the pitiful architect left
now among his ruins.

And he did ask after you.

I fear, sir, I have you so in my grip I
might command you strip to your skin

and climb the chandeliers
like a baboon.

And we spoke most warmly
of you. Indeed...

Shut up your mouth! And listen now to
this, you addled bag of stench.

You burnt all bridges with me
when last we met.

In front of those cronies who,
you shall see,

will turn their backs
on you most instantly.

Sir Arthur, I ask you first to think how
we might contrive to resolve this...

circumstance.

But I have. And I think such
sport deserves an audience.

Do you not find?

Now, these fine fellows carry
a notice of impeachment...

with your name upon it.

For misappropriation of
Treasury funds.

Make way there!

Make way for yesterday's man!

Sarah. William.

You did journey well here?

Yes. Fair well. Though I took the
road through Knightsbridge village,

which, as ever,
is in such poor condition.

It betters, for convenience, the way
by Vauxhall.

And here is the document.
That seals the thing.

Farewell then.

Fine boy, Samuel.

And recall what I have said about not
following your "new father" into law!

I cannot believe this trial of ours
is now ended.

And I cannot yet believe what
we together have started.