LAURA LINNEY: This is "Masterpiece."

ALBERT: Why would you not want me to be in a position where I can make a real change to this country?

I need you here, Albert.

LINNEY: Previously, on "Victoria"... We've always fought, but in the past it would bring us closer together.

JOSEPH: You weren't at dinner.

It was very quiet.

SOPHIE: Is my voice so loud?

(quietly): When it's the only thing I can hear.

You've never met a rule you didn't want to break.

You sound like my wife.

MONMOUTH (whispering): Everything belongs to me.

Nancy!

(crying): I never opened her letter.

LINNEY: "Victoria," ♪ Gloriana ♪ ♪ Hallelujah ♪ ♪ Gloriana ♪ ♪ Hallelujah ♪ ♪ Gloriana, hallelujah ♪ ♪ Hallelujah.

♪ ♪ ♪ (crowd calling faintly) OFFICER (distantly): Troop, present arms!

♪ ♪ MAN: Freedom for Ireland!

(shouting) (groaning, shouting) Mama!

(gasps) BERTIE: It's a man!

Vicky!

(shouting continues) (catching breath) ABIGAIL: Your Majesty?

Skerrett, yes, I sent for you.

Skerrett.

No, not Skerrett.

Oh, forgive me, Turner, I've, um... ...had a bit of a shock.

Yes, ma'am.

How can I be of service?

(quietly): See if you can salvage my hair.

(exhales): The children witnessed nothing of the attack, thank God, but they did see the man on the ground.

The police say he was Irish.

Big surprise.

What do you mean?

What's the significance of his being Irish?

We have striven very hard to resolve the terrible situation in Ireland.

The undersecretary told me himself, "The Irish incident is now closed."

(chuckles): He would.

Turner, are you saying my undersecretary was lying?

No, truly, ma'am, I have no opinion... Really?

Because you seem to have an opinion on everything else.

(catching word in throat) The hunger for food may have gone away, ma'am, but the hunger for independence has only increased.

That... that is what the Irish say when you talk to 'em.

♪ ♪ I should have been with you.

Papa!

Today we had a man try to kill us.

I keep telling you, he couldn't of, he had no bullets in his gun.

Couldn't have, Bertie.

Couldn't have.

(Louise babbling) Papa is here.

All shall be well.

I, uh, hope it's not inconvenient, but Mr. Caine is here.

Caine?

Ah, yes, yes, yes.

Bertie, you are to have your own tutor.

You did agree.

I agreed in principle.

I didn't agree to you appointing someone without consulting me.

Well, I met the man in Cambridge.

I think you should warm to him.

Ah, Mr. Caine.

(Victoria clearing throat) Mr. Caine.

Your Majesty.

VICTORIA: I trust your name does not presage your preferred method.

(chuckles): I had enough flogging at Eton, ma'am, to last several lifetimes.

It is not my teaching style.

Why don't I get a tutor?

You have your Aunt Feodora.

Mr. Caine, welcome.

(chuckles) Delighted to meet you, Your Royal Highness.

♪ ♪ I think we should go to Ireland.

(deliberatively): For what possible reason?

Because I have a feeling that the Irish might be right.

Right that it is correct to threaten our children with guns?

Right that it is difficult to respect the authority of a queen one has never seen.

Heaven knows if I were Irish, it might dispose me to independence.

Monarchy does not, um... cannot depend on an obligation for you to show your face to every single person.

No British monarch has set foot in Ireland since the Middle Ages.

That speaks of lack of interest.

Or fear, perhaps.

I shan't be accused of either.

You think I've lost my mind.

RUSSELL: No, ma'am, you are intrepid.

But it would be negligent not to remark that Ireland is a Catholic country.

The famine is enshrined in the culture as a crime perpetrated by British Protestants, the church of which you're the head, ma'am.

The excursion could involve some danger.

Well, the foreign secretary will ensure we don't come to any harm.

He has a house there in Sligo-- is that not so, my lord?-- where he keeps his wife.

So he knows the territory, and he can finesse our progress accordingly.

PALMERSTON: It will be an honor and a, and a privilege.

Ma'am, Ireland is lovely, and we shall of course accommodate you at Classiebawn Castle.

May I suggest a modest party for travel?

Is your castle small?

(chuckling): Oh, um... Ireland is glorious, but poor.

The people will, of course, delight in seeing their queen and her immediate family but may be nonplussed at the full panoply of the court.

Yes, I agree.

But, um... surely it is not necessary for you to extend to us your hospitality.

Oh, my wife will be cranky if I don't.

She'll be cranky because you keep her squirrelled away in the country.

There is no squirrelling of Emily, ma'am.

♪ ♪ (cheerfully): So.

Ireland it is.

I'm sure the moment she steps on Irish soil, she will conquer Irish hearts.

(quietly): Hmm.

Doubtless Palmerston encouraged her in this.

(scoffs) Since the birth of Louise, her ability to distinguish good advice from bad... That was impertinent of me.

Forgive me.

Perhaps childbirth can cloud her judgment.

But... but is not something I wish to say to her, nor think about.

That is because you love her, Albert.

That's so commendable.

(chalk scraping on tablet) (birds chirping) What will be my treat for this?

We don't always proceed by treats, Bertie.

There are other incentives.

♪ ♪ Look and learn.

♪ ♪ (fire crackling) FOOTMAN: And the hatboxes, Your Grace.

The Duchess looks wretched.

What is wrong, do you know?

I think there is presently some... antipathy between Sophie and her husband.

I knew it.

It's because I dragged her off to Osborne without him.

Well, he must come to Ireland.

I shall insist on it.

CAINE: Your Majesty, Your Royal Highness.

Papa.

Hmm?

Pick a card.

Pick a card?

Very well... Nine.

Pick another.

The queen.

The queen counts as 12.

Nine multiplied by 12... equals... 108.

(chuckles): Mr. Caine, that is remarkable.

I take no credit, sir; Bertie told me how you taught him the alphabet.

I merely improvised upon your theme.

The true achievement is his.

Well, even so.

It is remarkable.

Bertie, you must remain here with Mr. Caine to continue your studies whilst Mamma and I are in Ireland.

Your brother and sisters will remain here also.

Aunt Feodora will be here to care for you all.

(fire crackling) Duchess, I have good news.

♪ ♪ Allow me, my dear.

BERTIE: Goodbye, Mama; Goodbye, Papa.

Come back soon.

♪ ♪ (door shutting, locking) (knocking on side) ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ (clears throat) Present arms!

Your Majesty, ma'am.

You are most welcome to County Cork.

It is splendid to be here.

(drumming begins) (playing "For She's a Jolly Good Fellow") (playing continues, crowd cheering) Go back to where you came from!

SOLDIER: That's enough, now!

MAN: This is our land!

This is Ireland!

(playing continues) (chuckles awkwardly, clears throat) (cheers and applause) (cheering continues) Thank you again.

Ma'am, may I presume to ride with you?

It would enable me to point out sundry items of interest.

Mmm.

(cheers and applause) ♪ ♪ (indistinct talking, clamoring) Have you been in the public houses, Palmerston, securing local enthusiasm?

Sir, that's an extraordinary suggestion.

Do you seriously envisage me in a public house?

(crowd cheering) This is our land!

Not yours!

Not yours!

This is our land!

(crowd talking indistinctly) Clearly one I missed.

♪ ♪ (seagulls squawking) The queen took it into her head to insist on him coming.

(quietly): I know, she told me.

I mean, what could I do?

Tell her she was wrong?

My position at the court is all I have, Emma.

I cannot forfeit it by disagreeing with her.

(groans) Excuse me, ladies, what have I missed?

We were talking about Emily Palmerston.

Does she resemble her brother?

She is a little like Lord Melbourne, yes.

It's been a while since I saw her.

She was a great force in London when she was married to Lord Cowper.

He died.

Now she prefers Ireland.

Much to the chagrin of Lord Palmerston.

He pines for her.

Apparently.

(inhales) (breathing deeply) ♪ ♪ This is your park, Lord Palmerston?

PALMERSTON: Unkempt, ma'am, but much loved.

♪ ♪ (driver whoaing horses) Come.

(unlatching door) (birds chirping) (sighs) Is her ladyship at home?

Who wants to know?

Her husband.

Your husband, madam.

Your Majesty, please, may I introduce Lady Palmerston?

♪ ♪ (birds chirping) FOOTMAN: Reverend Hannam, ma'am.

♪ ♪ Whatever can I do for you, sir?

I am a humble parson, ma'am, who seeks a preferment in the church.

Specifically the deanship of Ely.

I'll repeat the question.

You are by repute a lady of the greatest influence, ma'am.

I entreat you to endorse my cause.

(chuckles): You are asking me to help secure the whatever-it-is of Ely?

I am indeed, ma'am.

For any assistance you can give me, I should be... excessively grateful.

♪ ♪ (birds chirping) So you agree with Schopenhauer.

Do I?

That's very clever of me, I've never heard of him.

EMMA: He says women lack intelligence by design.

God, yes.

Consider the Duchess.

Only got to look at her to see that she's ill-adapted to cogent thought.

(Monmouth chuckles) Duke, you are ungallant.

That don't make me wrong.

No, it makes you a boor.

O-R-E or O-O-R?

Both.

Either.

O-A-R, perhaps.

(chuckling) (snorting) (squealing, oinking) (Monmouth cackling) Excuse me for saying it, ma'am, but I think it brave of you to come to this country.

The Irish are not entirely predictable in their emotions.

But I hear they were out for you today en masse.

Oh, well, not really large gatherings, but, yes, very enthusiastic.

My husband was not wholly convinced by what we saw.

Though we saw the same thing.

ALBERT: Well, I saw what we were shown.

Which is the people who have recently been ravaged by famine, who have every reason to hate us, cheering as our carriage went past.

(cup clattering) You reproach the Irish for being friendly?

Will their smiles extend to Dublin?

(knife scraping) We shall see.

♪ ♪ (utensils clattering) (birds chirping) Is the Duke of Monmouth prone to perform like a wild pig?

To be frank, ma'am, yes, he is.

And how am I to perform in Dublin?

Your task is to make the Catholic many know that they belong to the same United Kingdom as the Protestant few, regardless of allegiance to church.

A performance Your Majesty is eminently capable of.

Will they bray in my face?

Tell me this country is not mine?

I should doubt that, ma'am.

How very subjunctive of you.

The daughter from Lady Palmerston's first marriage-- it's curious, but she looks exactly like Lord Palmerston.

(clock chiming intermittently) ♪ ♪ Do you endeavor to inform me with your silence that she is in fact his child?

That is the general view, sir.

Conceived whilst the mother was still married to Lord Cowper?

Dear God, we are among barbarians.

♪ ♪ (whispering): Listen close, Your Grace.

You can hear those waves.

Strange woman in my bed.

Lucky you.

(chuckling) (sighs): Are you hating this?

Not at all.

I can see it's a strain for you, and I don't like that.

But I'm happy to do my part.

Monmouth.

Monmouth is vile.

But he always was.

That poor girl.

One does feel sorry for her.

Is that all one feels?

Oh, Emily.

That's beneath you.

Just as long as she isn't beneath you.

(chuckling, snorts) You have my word.

Good.

Thank you.

Although, I think it shows an uncharacteristic lapse of taste.

She's very decorative.

It's as though she doesn't own any skin, she has been flayed.

The only thing that will repair her is love.

Then you are not the man for the job.

My own darling, I am not.

(quietly): I confess I'm at a loss.

We went to Scotland for the adventure of being away.

Are we the same people as we were then?

Why do we see things so differently now?

(exhales): We are not the same.

I feel no different.

♪ ♪ We have six children.

It is a strain.

How is it a strain?

Are we not overflowing with servants?

Not for me.

But for you.

Since the birth of Louise, you have been making decisions that are... (breathing deeply) questionable.

Feodora thinks the same.

(quietly, angrily): You've been discussing my judgment with her?

And what has the birth of Louise possibly got to do with it?

Albert, I don't shed part of my brain every time I have a baby.

Dear God, Albert, what has she been saying to you?

I was speaking tonight, and you rolled your eyes.

You were not meant to see that.

When did we start doing things that the other wasn't meant to see?

♪ ♪ (man shouting order distantly) What is this?

It's a light wine suitable for breakfast.

You don't care for it?

(footsteps approaching) Ah.

I'm sure Mr. Caine will drink it.

Your Serene Highness.

Come, Bertie, back to work.

♪ ♪ On to mathematics now, Bertie.

Do you like Mr. Caine, Aunt Feodora?

He is a domestic servant, it is not a meaningful question.

(whispering): Brodie, do you like Mr. Caine?

(quietly): Not a great deal, no.

(dishes clattering) ♪ ♪ ALBERT: Hello?

Is anybody there?

♪ ♪ A village without people.

Where are all of the tenants, Alfred?

What has Palmerston done with them?

(buzzing, birds chirping) This is a delightful house.

Thank you, ma'am.

I agree.

It's why I choose to spend most of my time here.

And yet Lord Palmerston is always to be found in London.

He is a minister of government, ma'am.

It could not be otherwise.

Is it not painful to be separated for such long intervals?

Immensely, ma'am.

But it is the rhythm of our marriage.

A cycle of sad partings and joyous reunitings.

Besides, I have my bees.

Lord Palmerston has no bees.

No, ma'am, he has his collection.

(chuckles): Ah.

I see.

What does he collect?

Other women.

When Henry is away from me, and he is desirous of that which men most desire, he places his boots outside his bedroom door.

It signifies his availability.

Then, when he comes home, he tells me... whether or not his invitation was taken up and by whom.

(whispering): He tells you?

He tells me everything.

And... do you... as it were, when he is away?

Place my boots outside my door?

On occasion, ma'am, I have.

As I observe to Henry, there is only so much satisfaction to be got from the keeping of bees.

There is honey, ma'am, and there is honey.

VICTORIA (voiceover): I do find the Palmerstons' marriage extraordinary.

In certain ways it's, it's quite like ours.

Not in others.

(clicks tongue) (sighing with frustration): And what is the matter with you?

The matter's not with me, Victoria.

The matter is with Palmerston himself.

The man is mendacious, and I despise him for it.

Lunch.

Correct.

Enjoy it.

I'm not hungry.

Victoria, he has been having liaisons.

He has.

(whispering): So has she.

She told me.

It is a marriage without secrets.

Everything here is a lie concocted by Palmerston.

He also, I believe-- based on evidence I uncovered today-- has been treating his tenants deplorably.

I know nothing about that.

Liebes, please.

Come down with me.

♪ ♪ A show of unity?

(placing object down) How, in your eyes, does that make us any less false than our hosts?

♪ ♪ (birds chirping) (coughing) (catching breath) (waves lapping) (birds chirping) (Joseph sighs) (seagulls squawking) Will you walk with me, Your Grace?

VICTORIA: Where are we going, Albert?

There is something you need to see.

♪ ♪ (birds twittering) (exhales) My Tess, see, she'd have covered that in about five seconds.

My mare.

I used to ride her on the sands at Bamburgh.

What?

(chuckling) I'm imagining you on a horse.

You can be poor and have a horse.

That's not what I meant.

(chuckles) I could do it on foot in... ten?

From where to where?

From there to there, the boat.

So could I.

(breathing hard, laughing) ♪ ♪ (laughing) (spitting) (both chuckling) Ah.

(both catching breath) (exhales, chuckles) You and me, you know... we're the same.

We both have no power.

Footman, duchess, no power.

I get pushed around by the steward, you get pushed around by your husband.

What's the odds?

But I tell you this for free, Sophie.

It won't always be that way.

Where's he been sent to school, your son?

"All Monmouths go to Harrow."

My son's going to Eton.

You have a son?

No.

(both chuckling) But that's where he's going.

(quietly): I should like you to kiss me.

I offer you love, Sophie.

Nothing less.

♪ ♪ (quietly): Kiss me.

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ If one didn't know better, one might suppose that was the pouting footman with the shoulders.

Or do I mistake him?

You do not.

(gunshot, horse whinnying) Whoa!

(grunts) Victoria!

(coaxing horse) Whoa, whoa, whoa.

(clicking tongue): Good man.

Easy, easy.

Easy.

So sorry to have frightened you!

What in God's name are you doing, man?

Firing guns?

'Tis my job, sir.

I'm Lord Palmerston's gamekeeper.

The name's Magee.

There's never anybody here but rabbits, me, and the ghosts.

What ghosts?

The villagers were cleared out, so... His Lordship's a fair man, but he's no different from the rest of the gentry when it comes to the folks.

In comes the famine, out go the peasants.

The gentry's all English, they don't want to talk to the starving tenants.

They call 'em dirty Papists.

I travel to Dublin, Mr. Magee, expressly to address that disharmony.

Huh.

Do you so?

Sure you'll love Dublin.

It's a great city.

♪ ♪ Late breakfast, Duchess?

I went for a walk.

Yes, I know.

Forgive me if I speak bluntly.

But you have an itch... that you can't quite reach.

And I am anxious that the person you've chosen to scratch it for you is... not appropriate.

So please...

Please, Sophie, I beg of you, be very careful.

(door opening) Morning, both.

Henry.

The prince is looking for you.

He's pretty bated.

(clattering) And you have been where?

I went for a walk on the sands.

(pouring tea) (door closes) Did you?

Did you.

How jolly.

Mind how you go, my dear.

(utensils scraping) (birds chirping) Sir, you wished to see me?

I have been to the village.

Your village.

You do not deny that you have a village?

Well, the physical place, sir, yes, it's, uh, entailed to the estate.

But there's no one living there now.

That is clear.

Where are they?

New York, mostly.

Explain.

Of course.

When the famine was at its height, I conferred with the villagers, and we decided that it was best that they left and begun afresh in America.

And I, I enabled them to do so.

That is what you do with people who you find inconvenient?

You pay them to go away?

They were glad to leave.

They write to me from New York, often telling me so.

No one paid them to do that.

Nevertheless, you considered them to be "dirty Papists."

I do not, sir.

Who said that I did?

I was told by your own gamekeeper, Magee.

Magee is no one's gamekeeper, sir.

He is a poacher.

And as a magistrate, I send him to prison on a regular basis.

I rather like the fellow, but, um, he does like mischief.

The would-be assassins that were arrested in Cork, the men who you chose not to tell us about, what of them?

Well, the latest intelligence is that the fellows were laborers who had been drinking, they meant no harm.

You have an answer for everything.

Well, then I am fortunate that the puzzles you set me are so easily resolved.

(breathing deeply) (birds chirping) Sorry, ma'am, was there something you wanted?

Abigail, shush.

Sit down.

Sit.

How do you like Ireland?

I, I like it very well, ma'am.

The people were very friendly.

Are you convinced by it?

Not entirely, ma'am.

You talk to 'em, they've all got loved ones who died of the famine.

Some pretty terrible stories, really.

It's a wonder they don't hate our guts being here.

Yes.

I believe the suffering was very terrible.

The sound of it still echoes, even here.

(sighs) Dublin will be a day of reckoning.

The shamrock dress, I think.

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ Lady Palmerston.

Some final words of wisdom.

I offer no wisdom, ma'am.

But I presume to advise you of a sign.

Ronan, the cardinal-- if he speaks sympathetically, Catholic Ireland will take a step closer... to us.

VICTORIA: I trust I shall see you in London?

Sometime?

My word on it, ma'am.

VICTORIA: Lord Pam, will you lead us on to Dublin?

Ma'am.

EMILY: Give my regards to your mistress.

Westminster.

I know you can't live without her.

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ (discordant roar) (shouting, groaning) ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ Your Majesty, may I present Bishop Moberly?

And Cardinal Ronan.

Gentlemen.

We cannot fail to observe-- all of us present here today-- that this is a moment of great poignancy.

I do not mean that the queen has come to Dublin.

That is something that should have happened long before now, and for my lateness, I apologize.

I mean that in your coming here, Cardinal Ronan, you bring your church to meet with mine.

And I thank you for the honor.

Your Majesty, my church salutes you in return.

And as an emblem of determination that we should all advance together in peace, we offer you this gift.

(cooing) ♪ ♪ I have not come to trespass on the authority of His Holiness the Pope.

I come only to deliver in person this pledge: that I shall strive with all my heart to help your country recover the strength it once enjoyed and deserves to know again.

You have given me a dove.

An Irish dove.

This is her land.

This is where she belongs.

Let us send her home.

♪ ♪ (cheers and applause) ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ Good day.

(whispering): Now, Bertie.

(speaking fluent French) (continues speaking fluent French) (chuckles) By God, we'll make a gentleman of you yet.

So proud of you.

VICKY: Mama.

Oh, Vicky.

Welcome back.

Ah.

I believe the expedition was a success.

Palmerston did everything within his power to make it appear as if everything ran smoothly.

Victoria was persuaded?

A childlike faith in what she's shown.

Mmm.

Oh, could I trouble you for something?

There is a gentleman, a, a cleric, his name is Hannam.

Hannam, ah, yes, yes.

Oxford man, a Puseyite.

I've read his work.

He would like to become the Dean of Ely.

Well... Actually, that's a rather good fit.

Hmm.

Leave it with me.

Gentle Jesus, meek and mild... (whispering): Look upon... Look upon this little child.

Pity my simplicity, suffer me to come to thee.

Amen.

What's this?

You've got a rash on your arm.

Good night, Mama.

Good night.

(door opens) (exhales) I slept very poorly.

I kept thinking about Bertie.

Yes, he has done very well.

He was so unhappy when he said his prayers last night.

Yes, well, sometimes I think we set too much store on happiness, don't you think?

(incredulously): Whatever do you mean?

(clicks tongue) Well, um, well, yourself, Victoria.

What, what makes you happy, Victoria?

The adoration of a crowd.

Not this again.

Well, in Dublin, you were supreme.

The crowd cheered, and your heart was lifted.

But, uh, now you are gone.

Will the Catholic Irish persevere in their wish to be reacquainted with their Protestant masters?

Will the masters accept them or snub them?

Or would the whole affair, has it already been consigned to history?

My presence in Ireland had meaning.

I wish that I could persuade the Irish to think and act as you imagine that they do.

Victoria... ♪ ♪ (men talking indistinctly) (door opens) MONMOUTH: Palmerston, damn you, look at me!

Have you been (no audio) my wife?

I have not, sir.

A little less of that, Monmouth, and you might yourself with rather more authority than you do at present.

(gulps) (glass shatters) (bell ringing) I'm not mocked, Palmerston.

There will be retribution.

(chuckles softly) (door closes) Is that true, Henry?

I was certain that you'd added the Duchess to your distinguished collection.

I did not, sir.

(billiard balls knocking) Oh.

♪ ♪ Say something.

Ma'am?

(sighs): Not "ma'am."

Say... something.

Oh, really, half the time I can't prevent you from filling the room with your opinions.

I'm, I'm uncertain... Dear Turner.

It's not your fault.

I just... (Victoria sighs) I wish you felt able to initiate a conversation without fretting how I might respond.

I think you're right to be worried about your son, ma'am.

The household is concerned.

Vocative.

Dative.

(breathing deeply) ♪ ♪ Ablative.

(exhales) Ow!

(Bertie groaning) (Bertie groaning) (breathing heavily) (angrily): Get out.

Your Majesty, I beseech you... Of this house!

Allow me to explain the method... (grunts) Step away, sir.

You shall not threaten my mother!

(birds chirping) You look glum, Highness.

(exhales) The tutor has been dismissed.

Inevitably, I shall get the blame.

I did not know the child was being persecuted.

How could I?

Because you were in loco parentis?

(sighs with disgust) That doesn't interest me.

What interests me is this: the unexpected appointment of George Hannam as Dean of Ely.

New pearls, madam?

Mmm.

You forced me to play my card.

What card is that?

The picture card.

The one that shows you at Osborne, attempting to ravish the Duchess of Monmouth.

Your Serene Highness, I think we might be quits.

♪ ♪ ALBERT: I wanted to be a good father.

I know.

To make such a catastrophic error in judgment, it is inexcusable.

Thank God we have no more children for me to... damage.

As ever, my timing is impeccable.

(chuckles softly) Are you sure?

Seventh time of asking.

I'm familiar with the indications.

Liebes, I...

I congratulate you.

♪ ♪ I am glad we shall have another child.

Albert, shall we survive this?

I love you.

We shall try.

LINNEY: Next time, on "Victoria"... Gott im Himmel!

VICTORIA: What is it?

ALBERT: Bertie will be my legacy.

Can you imagine him as king?

PENGE: Where the blazes have you been?

The issue is not whether you are liked, it is whether you are respected.

(porcelain shattering) You have everything, Drina, and you don't even know how lucky you are!

LINNEY: "Victoria," next time, on "Masterpiece."

♪ Hallelujah ♪ LINNEY: Go to our website.

Listen to our podcast, watch video, and more.

To order this program on Blu-ray or DVD, visit shopPBS.org.

Also available on Amazon Prime Video.

The companion books are also available.

♪ Hallelujah ♪ ♪ Hallelujah.

♪