PITT   A balance sheet, Mr Fox. I enjoy a good balance sheet.

INT. WESTMINSTER. HOUSE OF LORDS. DAY.

Pitt and Fox lead the Commons into the Lords to hear the King’s speech. Over their heads, we see the King start to read the speech from the throne at the far end.

KING   (reading) Whereas we, George III, in this year of our Lord 1788, do open this Parliament, giving notice that our will and pleasure is that the following bills shall be laid before this House:
A bill for the regulation of trade with our possessions in North America …
There is a reproving cough from the Lord Chancellor, Thurlow, and the King pulls a face.
Our former possessions in North America …
The King’s speech goes on in the background.

FOX   I see that the King did not write his own speech, Mr Pitt.

PITT   The King will do as he’s told, Mr Fox.

FOX   (to Sheridan) Then why not be rid of him? If a few ramshackle colonists in America can send him packing, why can’t we?

EXT. WESTMINSTER. COURTYARD. DAY.

Greville and a crowd of pages and equerries run down the steps into the yard, Greville then marshalling the crowd to await the coming of the royal party.

GREVILLE   Attend. Attend.

EXT. WESTMINSTER. COURTYARD. DAY.

The crowd watches as the King, now divested of his ceremonial robes goes towards his coach. Fitzroy draws his attention to a small queue of petitioners, each waiting with a written request.

FITZROY   The petitioners, Your Majesty.

KING   Oh, yes … thank you … thank you … thank you … thank you.
As her turn comes, Margaret Nicholson suddenly draws a knife from her scroll and strikes the King’s chest.
What? What?
There is a moment of shocked silence as he feels for the wound, then Nicholson strikes at him again, and there is turmoil.
No, no. I am not hurt.
Greville and Fitzroy struggle with Nicholson, as the Queen embraces the King.

FITZROY   His Majesty is unharmed.

NICHOLSON   I have a property due to me from the Crown of England.

KING   The poor creature’s mad. No, no, no, no. Do not hurt her, she’s not hurt me.

NICHOLSON   Give me my property or the country will be drenched in blood.

KING   Will it indeed, madam? Well, not with this. It’s a fruit knife. Wouldn’t cut a cabbage. Who are you, sir?

FITZROY   This is Captain Greville, sir, the new equerry.

KING   (pointing at Greville’s epaulette, which has become unbuttoned in the struggle) Well, you’re undressed, sir, do yourself up, sir. You’re an equerry, not a scarecrow.
Greville retires to adjust his dress.

NICHOLSON   I have a property due to me from the Crown of England.
Nicholson is hustled away.

QUEEN   You murderous fiend! (embracing King) Oh, thank God I have you yet.

KING   Do not fuss, madam. The King has no wound, just a torn waistcoat.