House of Guinness

Police! Police!

I was born on a Dublin street where the royal drums did beat

the loving English feet they walked all over us

and every single night when me da would come home tight…

Cochrane, get back here!

Fenian bastard! Get down!

Come out ye black and tans come out and fight me like a man

show your wife how you won medals down in flanders

tell her how the ira made you run…

Move! Out the way!

Missus!

Miss Cochrane!

Miss!

Miss Cochrane!

Miss Cochrane! Miss!

Missus, you've got to come.

Those Saxon bastards have taken your brother.

They've been picking up brotherhood boys all over Dublin.

- Wait there. - Well, come quick, though!

Come out ye black and tans come out and fight me like a man

show your wife how you won medals down in flanders

tell her how the ira made you run like hell away…

Iveagh house, sir.

The fenians have crossed the Canadian border.

… news from the colony, sir.

An incursion in Dakota, irishmen and Indians.

- You've business with Mr. Guinness? - Urgent business. Good day.

Well…

I've been given a message to give to Mr. Guinness

on behalf of the poor people of Dublin.

What is the mood between the brothers?

When a matter is trivial, they shout at each other.

When it's important, they whisper.

But today they are silent,

which means this New York business is more serious than serious.

Sir Arthur, master Edward,

your legal counsel, Mr. Isaac butt qc.

A gift for Mr. Guinness from a representative of the Dublin poor.

Which Mr. Guinness?

It is a measure of your joint predicament that it could be for either one of you.

If it is a response to election fraud, perjury in the dock,

and somehow getting away with it scot-free,

then it is for you, Arthur, from the catholics.

If, on the other hand, word has reached Dublin

that the guinness family is giving 15% to the fenians in New York,

funding their attacks on the British with every bottle of guinness sold,

then it is for you, Edward, from the unionists.

Since today's business is New York, I will claim it.

How kind.

Today's business is many things.

The government in white hall is responding

to increased fenian activity in the colonies,

specifically the fenian incursion into the dominion of Canada.

Funded by the guinness family, thanks to you, brother.

The British have issued arrest warrants for fenians

all over Dublin.

Fenian bastard.

But, as you will read in my legal advice,

the timing of these arrests may work in your favor.

- How on earth... -. Please, Edward.

Just allow the genius that saved me from jail to get you off the hook too.

Your agent Byron hedges in New York has done a very dangerous deal.

If word gets out, even I won't be able to save you.

It would be the final blow to your father's legacy.

Yes, I'm told by my contacts…

Ooh, your mysterious contacts.

…that if our licensed agent...

no, he's not our agent. He's your fucking agent.

- Will you shut up? Let me finish. - No, you shut up!

We have a guest. You're behaving like a child!

- Every fucking time! - Please, both of you.

My sources tell me that if Byron hedges withdraws his offer

from the fenian brotherhood in New York,

he will be found face down in the Hudson river.

The deal will be exposed.

And the house of guinness will come crashing down.

Yes.

I've given your predicament much thought, and I propose we do a deal.

Arrange a more discreet method of payment in exchange for silence.

So, somebody trustworthy will need to get a message to the fenians.

I suggest we use the services of your Mr. Rafferty.

I tried to contact him but could not locate him

the whole of last evening.

I wonder if either of you might know where Mr. Rafferty could be.

I got a meth lab zoso sticker rolled up in my pocket

got a 7-inch trigger finger don't know how to stop it

got a one-way pile driver nowhere left to use it

I'm a supercharged freedom fighter

and I'm givin' it all to you.

Will you not stay for breakfast, Mr. Rafferty?

Would you really have me sit down for breakfast

with all the maids looking on?

Mr. Rafferty, you look so worried that I might someday lose my mind

and try to make you official.

Rest assured, I have no intention of feeling anything for you,

other than with my body.

Not ever.

No, no.

The servants are all awake.

For discretion, but mostly for fun,

you will exit like a thief in the night.

And if I break my fucking neck?

I will get another you.

Now go.

You're fucking insane, you know that?

Please excuse the intrusion, but I have an urgent message.

We've finished our business. Go on.

It was delivered by a street boy hardly able to keep breath

from running from the docks.

From the docks?

It's for you, master Edward.

From a young lady called Ellen Cochrane.

Thank you, Potter.

I write to inform you of troubling news.

This morning, alongside other men from our organization,

my brother was taken and imprisoned by police forces.

Once again, they persecute men who have done nothing

but speak publicly about their beliefs.

I know we are on different sides,

but I must remind you of the other night,

of how our alliance has evolved.

I've offered help with the New York situation,

and I hope you can do the same with my situation.

I trust in your power and goodwill.

You know Ellen Cochrane of the fenian brotherhood?

Edward.

Our lawyer asked you a question.

My god, your face.

Don't talk of god to me, Ellen.

Before you waste any words, I know how you spent the night before last.

What are you talking about?

I have men take shifts outside your lodging

to keep you safe from harm.

You have what?

And my men reported that a man stayed the night.

You have no fucking right.

And a very particular man it was.

What I choose to do in the comfort of my home

is none of your fucking business.

It is Ireland's business.

What we do is the business of our nation.

I came here to tell you I will try to get you freed.

Another night with your man should do the job, yeah?

Hands away!

You obviously have no decency, but have you no sense?

Rich people in the bedrooms of the poor,

sneaking home at dawn,

leaving behind empty bottles and babies.

He is a kind man.

Fuck.

Fuck!

Yes, a "fuck" is what it was. But more than that…

Now you not only appease the rebels, you sleep with them.

Please! This sort of selfish surrender of the flesh to temptation,

that's my territory, my job, my role in the business.

It will not affect the material conduct of the brewery.

Two days, and she's sending messages to our door, using you as her turnkey.

What other services did you offer in return?

Services? She's not a whore, Arthur.

- Not like... - not like who?

- Say it. - I didn't mean...

you send a clerk you hardly know to New York

who does deals with the devil on our behalf, Edward!

Then you jump into bed with someone...

simply because that is what we both wanted

in that moment!

My god.

We are brothers after all.

I was beginning to think I was the imperfect first attempt,

and you were the brother perfected.

We talked, and we drank, and… and laughed.

I just…

And anyway, the birds started singing, and I wanted them to go back to sleep.

Edward, out there in the darkness,

beyond the baronial halls, there is laughter all night long.

And those birds always sing too soon.

I think it's time for you to marry Adelaide.

She'll put a stop to all this.

Although I must say… …to see you love inappropriately,

it's like opening a window for fresh air.

It is not love.

No, but it is wildly inappropriate.

Butt said that we need to make our agent in New York

part of the wider deal, correct?

In order to make connections with the fenians,

we may not now need the services of Mr. Rafferty.

Yes, because you've already slept with the enemy.

Not the enemy. She trusts me.

I trust her.

She can help us bridge the gap.

Deeper and deeper he falls in love

with the green of her Irish eyes and her sweet green Irish heart.

- Get off! You're ludicrous! - Edward! Would ya marry me!

Lady Adelaide is waiting for you, sir.

Deeper and deeper he falls in love.

I was expecting Edward.

Yeah, my brother is busy clearing up a mess of his own making.

So I'm afraid you've got me instead.

Sorry.

No apology necessary.