The rain has stopped, Your Majesty. We should be able to continue with the portrait.

So I should hope, Albert. First time we've had the whole family here for six years.

Let's try and get one in. We'll need both banks to fill light.

I've already strung the cables, sir.

- All set up, sir. - Thank you. We're ready now, everybody.

Please remember to look straight into the lens and keep your eyes wide and bright.

Now, after three. One, two...

three.

I know, at a time like this, it's difficult to apply oneself to any task.

But a surviving heir to the throne must be found.

The nation, the Commonwealth, and I dare say the known world await your findings.

Good luck, gentlemen.

Since when do we give a toss about this kind of bullshit?

Shut up, Dysentery. Where's your sense of national flippin' pride?

(SNORING)

Er...

- Excuse me, Sir Cedric. - Yes?

- I do believe we've found an heir. - That's wonderful, Duncan. Who is it?

His name is Jones. Ralph Jones.

Ralph Jones. Is he everything we might have hoped?