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[the servants are discussing Matthew Crawley, Lord Robert's heir, and his mother Isobel
: So what d'you think we'll make of them? Sarah O'Brien
: I shouldn't think much. *She* hasn't even got a lady's maid. Anna
: It's not a capital offence. John Bates
: She's got a maid - her name's Ellen. She came a day early. Sarah O'Brien
: She's not a lady's maid. She's just a housemaid that fastens hooks and buttons when she has to. There's more to it than that, you know. Anna
: We want some *very* precise reporting when dinner's over. Thomas
: Are we to treat him as the heir? Sarah O'Brien
: Are we heck as like! A doctor's son from Manchester? He'll be lucky if he gets a civil word out of me. Anna
] We're *all* lucky if we get a civil word out of you.
[Sarah O'Brien is talking about Matthew and Isobel Crawley
] Sarah O'Brien
: I'm sorry but *I* have standards. And if anyone thinks I'm going to pull my forelock and curtsey to this Mister Nobody from Nowhere...
[Lady Cora comes into the Servants' Hall. All the servants stand up
] Cora, Countess of Grantham
: O'Brien! Were you discussing Mr Crawley? Sarah O'Brien
: Yes, My Lady. Cora, Countess of Grantham
: Is it your place to do so? Sarah O'Brien
: I've got my opinions, My Lady, same as anybody.
[Mrs Hughes comes in
] Mrs. Hughes
: Can I help Your Ladyship? Cora, Countess of Grantham
: [to Mrs Hughes
] This is the button that's missing from my new evening coat. I found it lying on the gravel. But I was shocked at the talk I heard as I came in.
] Cora, Countess of Grantham
: Mr Crawley is His Lordship's cousin and heir. You *will*, therefore, please accord him the respect that he is entitled to. Sarah O'Brien
: But you don't like him yourself, milady. You never wanted him to come... Cora, Countess of Grantham
: You're sailing *perilously* close to the wind, O'Brien. If we're to be friends, you will *not* speak in that way again about the Crawleys, or *any* member of Lord Grantham's family. Now I'm going up to rest. Wake me at the dressing gong.
[Lady Cora walks out of the room
: I don't think that's fair - not here in the Servants' Hall. Sarah O'Brien
: I agree. If she was a *real* lady, she wouldn't have come down here. She'd have rung for me and given me the button, that's all. Thomas
: This isn't her territory. We can say what we like down here. Mrs. Hughes
: Who says? Thomas
: The Law - and Parliament. There *is* such a thing as free speech. Mrs. Hughes
: Not when *I'm* in charge! Don't push your luck, Thomas. Now, tea's over. Back to work!
[Mrs Hughes leaves
] Sarah O'Brien
: Friends! Who does she think she's fooling. *We're* not friends. Anna
: No? Sarah O'Brien
: No. And you're not friends with the girls, neither. We're servants, you and me, and they pay us to do as we're told. That's all.
: Even Mr. Carson wasn't born standing to attention. Thomas
: I hope not, for his mother sake.
: Good luck. Thomas Barrow
: If I was lucky, I wouldn't be leaving.
: What's an assistant butler when it's at home anyway? That's what I'd like to know.
: It's a shame that, in order to save Downton Abbey, Lord Grantham has sunk to brewing the Black Chamomile crank. Thomas Barrow
: Oh, stop acting so high and mighty, Mr. Carson. The tea tweakers can't get enough of His Lordship's Earl Blue. Apparently, they think it's "the shizzle-nizzle."
: Yo, pendejo, you got something of mine. Earl of Grantham
: Carson, is someone addressing me?
[Carson presents a calling card tray to Spider
] Mr. Spider
: Oh, sorry.
[places a calling card in the tray, which Carson reads
] Mr. Carson
: My Lord, a Mr. Spider to see you. Earl of Grantham
: Ah yes. What can I do for you, my good man? Mr. Spider
: Listen, English Muffin, where's my motherfucking tea? Earl of Grantham
[Thomas presents a brick of tea to Spider, who cuts it open, takes a sample on his pinkie finger, stirs it into a tea cup his sicario hands him, and drinks it
] Mr. Spider
: Ahhh! I'll take that shit with some milk! Earl of Grantham
: Naturally... once we have been reimbursed for our efforts. Mr. Spider
: And why should I pay you, Mary Poppins, when I already got the recipe. Mr. Carson
: Who gave you the recipe? Thomas Barrow
: Uh, he, he must have gotten it from Mr. Bates. I told you he was unreliable. Earl of Grantham
: But I never gave Bates the recipe.
[he and Carson reach into their jackets for guns
] Thomas Barrow
: No, wait!
: [to the dining collective
] War is on the way. William Mason
: Then we'll have to face it, as bravely as we can. Thomas Barrow
: Thank you, Mr. Cannon Fodder.
: Ah, there'll be a war all right - it's time to prepare for it. Anna Smith
: The country, do you mean? Thomas Barrow
: No, me. John Bates
: [to Thomas
] You never disappoint.
[Thomas is reading the blinded Lt. Courtenay's post aloud to him
] Thomas Barrow
: "Things cannot be as they were and, whatever you might think, Jack has your best interests at heart." Lieutenant Edward Courtenay
: Stop. Thomas Barrow
: Who's Jack? Lieutenant Edward Courtenay
: My younger brother. He means to replace me.
] Lieutenant Edward Courtenay
: It's what he's always wanted. Thomas Barrow
] Yeah, well... Lieutenant Edward Courtenay
: I'm sorry. I mustn't bore you. Thomas Barrow
: [almost shyly
] Don't let 'em walk all over you. You've got to fight your corner. Lieutenant Edward Courtenay
: What with? Thomas Barrow
: Your brain. You're not a victim, don't let them make you into one. Lieutenant Edward Courtenay
: [with a sad smile
] You know, when you talk like that, I almost believe you. Thomas Barrow
: You should believe me. All my life they've... pushed me around... just 'cause I'm different. Lieutenant Edward Courtenay
: How? Why are you different? Thomas Barrow
: [glancing at him
] Never mind. Look... look, I don't know if you're going to see again or not. But I do know you have to fight back.
[Edward places an affectionate hand on Thomas' knee, and Thomas covers his hand with his own
: Imagine Carson without a footman. Like a ringmaster without a pony.
: If it's all right with you, Miss Denker, I'd rather talk to the organ grinder.
: What's the matter with everyone this merry morn? Mr. Carson
: I always think there's something rather foreign about high spirits at breakfast.
: [as both men re moving in different directions
] Where have you been? William Mason
: I'm not late, am I? Thomas Barrow
] You're late when I say you're late.
: They performed a gastrectomy. Thomas Barrow
: What's that? Charles Carson
: No business of ours.
: [referring to Thomas' New York trip
] How was it? Thomas Barrow
: Interesting. Very modern and very interesting. How's it been here? Jimmy Kent
: Not very interesting and not very modern.
: [witnessing Thomas' callousness to William and Daisy, grabbing his collar, and pushing him against the wall in a threatening fashion
] Now listen, you filthy little rat. If you don't lay off, I will punch your shining teeth through the back of your skull. Thomas Barrow
] Is this supposed to frighten me, Mr. Bates? Because it is, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, but it's just not working. It isn't working.
[He walks away from Bates
: You are your own worst enemy. Thomas Barrow
: If I am, I've got competition.
: You seem unusually disenchanted with life these days, Mr. Barrow. Thomas Barrow
: I can't see the future, Mr. Carson, but then I suppose none of us can.
: [about the trip to London
] Are you looking forward to it? Daisy Mason
: Why should I be? What difference does it make to peel onions in London or peel them in Yorkshire?
: [leaving the room
] I am not foul, Mr. Carson. I am not the same as you, but I am not foul. Charles Carson
: Yes, very well... We've spoke enough on this subject.
: [to James, who is leaving Downton
] We have been friends, and I'm sad to see the back of you.
: [upon leaving Downton for new employment
] I arrived here as a boy. I leave here as a man.