All language subtitles for Passport To Pimlico (1949).DVDRip.XviD

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You've been listening
to a programme of lunchtime music

by Les Norman
and his Bethnal Green Bambinos.

- You gonna be at that meeting tonight?
- Afraid so.

- Try and keep it short, Dad.
- Hm.

~ I don't want to set the world on fire ~

~ I just want to start... ~

- Pair of kippers to wait for Mrs. White.
- Okey-doke.

See any difference?

- What's the matter? Gone off?
- No, in me.

- What's all that oily muck?
- The shiny look, they call it.

- Do you like it?
- Not much.

- No wonder we're short of fat.
- Frank!

Frank, Mum wants to know
if you've got any cod fillets.

I've got something better. Fancy a
nice bit of bream for your supper?

- Mm, yes.
- Ah, it's a treat to see it again.

My old dad used to say that this one
was the most human fish of 'em all.

If I was a bream, I'd resent that.

Oh, I'll tell you a most
remarkable thing about the bream.

When he's courting,
he grows a little white wart just here.

Just like you, or I might buy a new hat.

Well, I must be going now.
I'm ten minutes late already.

I'll fetch it over
with a nice big piece of ice.

All right.

Some people get jam on it-.

Wrap this up and put it in the fridge.

- Hello, Benny.
- Hello.

Phew! 94 degrees on Air Ministry roof.

Right, I'll keep off it.

- Any more about us there?
- Yeah.

"It is now believed that Pamela, the
last unexploded bomb in the London area,

"will be removed from Miramont Place,
Pimlico, on Tuesday next."

- We hope.
- Oh, it's gotta be, mate.

They want it for the exhibition
on local arts and culture.

You can pack it up, boys.

Art and culture's had it.
We're not defusing after all.

- Not, sir?
- We've got to blow her up.

- What, in her state of health?
- We've got to.

They've discovered another last bomb
so Pamela goes up tomorrow.

The police are sending a chap
round now to warn the population.

What are you talking about?

Two bob to win on Silver Street
at 13 to 8. That's 5 and 3.

Any to Come Equator, you had.

Heard about the bomb, Fred?
Setting her off tomorrow.

- Oh, they're setting her off, are they?
- Have to change your pitch.

Bit of bad, Gold Cup Day.

This one's me, all right.

Think it'll go with my taffeta?
That check skirt I got up west?

Lovely. Three guineas, dear.

- Oh.
- Make it pounds. I'm easy.

Ta, Edie.
I've got three coupons somewhere.

- Four, dear. Same as Bond Street.
- Oh, go on, be a pal.

I want it for Miss Pimlico night
at the Palais.

Oh, that. Proper old fiddle. Always was.

OK, I'll put it by.

Oh, no.

Look, I tell you what.

Oh, all right.

- Well, and what have I been up to?
- Huh! Make me blush to guess.

Well, it's no good you settling down
for a mike. It's time I had a wet.

I've come here to save your life.
They're blowing up that bomb tomorrow.

- They're blowing it up?
- You'll have to take a walk.

I suppose they couldn't make it
early closing day.

- Wouldn't upset trade enough.
- You can't pick and choose with bombs.

- Governor in, Bert?
- If it's about the bomb, he knows.

- Bert! You going to be all night?
- Coming, Governor.

A trifling matter like that, sir, I...
I didn't want to bother Head Office.

Trifling?

We regard it as a serious matter

that a man in your position should make
these decisions without our authority.

Excuse me, sir.

Sorry, sir.

A sense of responsibility
is a very excellent thing, Wix.

We quite appreciate that.

But if we start giving a free hand
to the manager of a minor branch,

we'd find ourselves in Queer Street.

Head Office don't consider you a second
Montagu Norman yet, you know,

and they like to have some idea
of what's happening here.

Then Head Office had better know

that I and my staff intend knocking off
at three o'clock tomorrow afternoon.

Seems funny, Arthur, having
to come and tell you about a bomb.

You're telling me. Took a warden
to nose 'em out in the old days.

They aren't half making
a mess-up of this one.

He really misses
that old white helmet of his.

Good evening, ladies.
Now, what can I do for you?

Mum wants a mop.

What, another? She had one last week.

What did she do with that, eh?
Fetch your dad one over the ear with it?

Don't tease the child, Arthur.
Give her a mop.

- Hello! That's a new one, isn't it?
- Yes, he finished it last night.

Spent half the morning
getting the mess off the carpet.

It's an idea for that dump out there.
Give those kids somewhere decent to play.

They seem to be
doing pretty well as it is.

I'd have something to say
if I was their mother.

- Nice job you've got there.
- Something to pass the time.

Pass the time indeed!

Stayed up till two o'clock
to get it ready for the Council meeting.

It'll be quite simple to turn
the old water tank into a swimming pool.

I, er... l think we've discussed
this matter long enough, gentlemen.

Those in favour
of Mr. Pemberton's, er... project.

Those in favour of selling
this piece of ground.

Well, that seems to settle it.

We've got to face economic facts,
Mr. Pemberton.

This borough is in no position just now
to finance daydreams.

That's just plain ridiculous.

Don't you ever think of anything
besides pounds, shillings and pence?

Withdraw that remark!

If everybody is quite settled now,

I should like to read
the proposed advertisement.

"For sale, freehold. Valuable building
land in much sought-after position."

"Eminently suitable for business
premises or factory site."

"Heart of busy trading centre.
Unlimited prospects."

"Full transport facilities to hand."

"Special appeal to purchaser of vision."

"No obstruction to future development."

"Thoroughly safe investment."

What have you been up to, you little devil?
Little devil, that's what you are.

Wasn't me. It was him.

I reckon it was about six to four
on him coming home in a sack.

- Came down on my funny bone.
- Went right up in the air, I did.

So will your father
when he hears about this.

All I can say is
some people are born lucky.

- Oh!
- Arthur!

- Dad, where are you?
- Where is he gone?

- Somebody do something!
- Hold on!

- Here's a rope!
- Mr. Pemberton!

Mr. Pemberton! Are you all right?

Are you all right, Mr. Pemberton?

Oh, I'm having a grand time.

Arthur!

Don't worry, we're getting him up.

Right!

Heave!

Take it easy!

Stick to it, Dad! You'll make it!

Hold tight, dear.

You all right?

- Hey, what happened?
- Thank you, boys.

I'm all right. Don't worry, don't fuss.
I'm all right, I tell you.

- You have hurt yourself.
- No, I haven't.

- Just like old times, eh?
- Hello, Ted. Yeah, just like.

You turn up when it's all over.

Now, come on. Which of you was it?

Come on. Who was it?

- Which of you was it?
- Don't lie!

- It's always that kid of yours.
- He never touched that wheel.

- Steady, steady.
- Well, sit still, then.

- Shirley!

OK, I'll go.

- That'll do, that'll do.
- No, it won't. Stay where you are.

Playing about like a schoolboy.

I don't know why you ever wanted
to go down the blessed hole.

I didn't want to go down the hole.
I fell down.

Well, you shouldn't have gone so close.

- Who was it?
- Frank with the ice.

- You didn't go to the door like that?
- Yes, of course.

It's the only sensible kind of thing
to wear in this kind of weather.

Downright indecent, I call it.
Whatever must that man have thought?

Exactly the same as all the other men
thought last year at Bournemouth.

- I thought I was seeing things again.
- Seeing things?

Yes, when all that stuff fell on my
head, I fancied I saw a kind of cave

with a load of treasure in it.

- Treasure?
- Yes, goblets, jewels, gold coins and...

Look out, look out.
It's all getting down my neck.

Did you say gold coins?

Oh, that's one of those kids
worked off a dud on you.

It is gold, isn't it?

Come on. I'll fetch a ladder.
You grab a couple of torches.

Arthur, don't be daft. Come back. Shirley!
Arthur, your supper's just on ready!

Now, I wonder where that was.

Oi.

All right, all right. Come on, come on.

Shine the light here, will you?

Keep your light there.

There.

Cor! Someone's been
saving up for a rainy day.

Look at all this stuff.

- Look, there's a coat of arms.
- Look at this.

Must be hundreds of years old.

What's that?

Hm. They even had to fill up forms
in those days.

- Hello there!
- Yes?

What on earth are you playing at?

We've found some buried treasure
down here.

- What?
- Loads of it, worth a million!

Nip round to the police
and give them the wire!

We're going to find out all about
an old picture! Meet you in the library!

Yes, it's his
crest, right enough.

Yes, a shield of pretense
or a lion rampant gules.

Yes, just as I said.

Except that you called it a mangy
old poodle up on its hind legs.

- Well, if you want to split hairs.
- I've told 'em!

Proper sensation! They've put two men
on guard over it. Found anything?

Plenty.
Do you know whose crest this is?

- No.
- The Duke of Burgundy.

- Who's he? Frenchman?
- This chap here.

Burgundy was a country on its own
in his day.

Well, what was he doing leaving his
stuff lying around in Miramont Place?

Well, that's what we're trying to ferret out.
You can help. Here, take this.

Look up "Burgundy, Grand Duke of".

Miramont House.

- This sounds promising.
- Mm.

"Destroyed by fire in 1490,
the property of Maurice de Charolais."

- He's got the right sort of name.
- Yeah.

Do you hear that, Frank?
If you find any mention of Maurice de...

Frank.

Really, Frank.

Oh, I'm sorry.

But just think of it.

A saltwater fish that can blow itself up
to three times its own size.

Don't you realise what this means?
It's history.

History, my foot. It's money!

Over this way a bit.

And what are your plans for the future,
Mr. Pemberton'?

Oh, I don't know, maybe I'll retire,

sail around the world in my own yacht
with a cargo of beautiful girls.

Oh, hark at him!
Seasick on the Serpentine!

I suppose I'll get something out of it.
I'm not counting my chickens yet, though.

- Oh, well, thanks for the story.
- You're welcome.

Gosh. Smashing.

Yeah, it is. 17 and 9.

That's all right. Have you heard
the inquest is fixed for tomorrow?

Inquest? Who's dead?

There's always an inquest
on treasure trove.

The coroner has to sort out
the different claims.

Oh, that shouldn't take him long.
After all, I found the stuff.

But there was certain others
instrumental, wasn't there?

- You've got to take that into account.
- How do you mean?

Well, er... if Benny here
hadn't set that wheel rolling...

Now, don't you try and come it over me.
You set it off. I saw you.

- You weren't there.
- Call your own father a liar, would you?

- OK, OK, I did it.
- Good boy.

Come on, Charlie boy.

You can tell me.
Mum won't be cross.

- Don't want a sweet.
- You'll have a sweet and like it!

So, you admit quite frankly
that the explosion of the bomb

was solely due to this thoughtless
action of yours and yours alone?

Yes, sir.

Well, well!

After nine years
as coroner of this district,

I find this a new
and most refreshing experience.

I congratulate the parents of Pimlico

on such a fine crop
of exceptionally honest youngsters.

That seems to dispose of the evidence
as to the finding of this treasure.

There remains one further important duty
before the court.

We must now establish
to whom it belongs.

I understand that the old parchments
provide valuable evidence on this point.

We will now hear
the translation of that document

from Professor Hatton-Jones
of London University.

Oh, I'm so sorry.

I understand
that Professor Hatton-Jones

has successfully established
the original ownership of this treasure.

Yes, indeed.

It belongs to the Duchy of Burgundy,

being vested in the person
of the Duke Charles...

Who, I believe, died in 1477?

If we are to believe Basin,
Reiffenburg, Gollut and Schmel.

In fact, according
to all the major historians,

he was killed at the Battle of Nancy.

But with the aid
of this most exciting document,

I am now able to change
the course of history.

Would you mind explaining
your point more fully?

Picture a battlefield.

9,481 frozen corpses are all that
remains of Burgundy's pride.

The Duke himself lies slain among them.

This poor naked body,
robbed by harpies, bitten by wolves,

the visage battered beyond recognition,

this they accept as the last
earthly remains of Charles VII,

Duke of Burgundy,
last of the line of Charolais.

Do they judge correctly?

Is this indeed the cadaver
of Charles the Rash?

Ha-ha!

If so, then I am Joan of Arc.

I see.

Then it is your contention
that the historians were wrong,

that the Duke of Burgundy
escaped with his life?

Yes! Charles the Rash lives on.

With the missing portion
of the Burgundian treasure,

he has fled to an unknown refuge.

Unknown for 500 years,
but known at last today!

Miramont House, Pimlico!

Now, it has always been known

that Miramont House was occupied
by a Burgundian nobleman

styling himself
the Count Maurice de Charolais.

With the help of this document,
I now intend to prove

that Maurice de Charolais
and the Duke of Burgundy

were one and the same person.

For it is a Royal Charter
signed by King Edward IV,

making the Duke
not only a grant of Miramont House,

but decreeing that the entire estate
shall be recognised henceforth

as Burgundian soil.

Now, Edward IV
would never have made such a grant...

Er... excuse me, Professor.

Are you implying that this treasure
does not belong to the crown?

Oh, no, it belongs to the people
in the area covered by the old estate,

since this charter specifically
makes them natives of Burgundy.

Do you mean that these Londoners
are technically Burgundians?

Indubitably. This Royal Charter
has never been repealed.

It is as valid today

as on the day it was signed
by the founder of the House of York.

Blimey. I'm a foreigner.

It would be difficult to exaggerate

the enormous importance
of this document...

- Looks like a fine weekend.
- Yes, sir.

You'll be back.

Miramont Place. Now, come on,
step lively, all you aliens.

- Belgrave Road?
- No, lady, we're going to England.

I'm sorry, sir, I wasn't expecting you.

Wix, it seems that my last visit here
failed to make any impression on you.

Or am I mistaken?

Perhaps you did receive
Head Office sanction

to admit the press
to one of our strongrooms.

No, sir, but it...
it all happened so quickly, I...

You've answered my question.
That's enough.

I don't wish to pursue the matter.

I shall have to advise Head Office
to arrange for your transfer

to one of our country branches.

Transfer? Oh, no, sir.

L... I could never settle down
anywhere else.

This is my home.
I... I've lived here all my life.

I was born here.

In Burgundy.

You can't throw me out
of my own country.

Don't be absurd, man. If you seriously
think that an obscure part of the law...

Obscure or not, legally,
this is Burgundy.

Head Office no longer has
any jurisdiction over this bank.

This is my bank.

I reckon two pounds will cover this.

Hey, how many in your litter?
You need 40 ration books for that lot.

Ration books? This is Burgundy.

Burgundy!

You still got that blouse?

- Fiddling coupons, then?
- Coupons? This is Burgundy.

Ah!

What do you want to queue for?
This is Burgundy!

Now, then, now then!
Five to two, Full Moon.

Now, come on. Who wants a bet? The oldest
firm in Burgundy. What's that, sir?

Yes, your export department.
This is Burgundy.

Burgundy! Burgundy!

Drink up, Mr. Wix.
Where's your patriotism?

Sorry, but I've just been making
a rough estimate of our national assets.

Crowns and ducats
to the value of£18,200.

Pitchers, goblets and ewers
to the value of...

- What's ewers?
- Mine's a pint.

That's very good.

Anyway, I estimate the total

to be somewhere
in the neighbourhood of £100,000.

Cor, that's about 1,000 nicker apiece,
ain't it?

- I'll send Charlie to Eton.
- I'm gonna have a saltwater aquarium.

Just a minute.

I doubt whether individual claims can be
made to treasure vested in a community.

Oh, I knew there'd be a catch in it.

Whatever happens to the treasure,
that piece of land is ours.

I think I know what's coming.

Well, why not?
It's part of Burgundy now.

About time we gave the kids a break.
We can have a go tomorrow.

Let's turn the old static water tank
into a swimming pool, for a start.

Hear, hear!

- Here's to the Burgundy Lido!
- Hear, hear!

All very laudable, no doubt,
but where are your returns?

The real benefit to the community

would be some scheme
for stimulating local trade

- and launching new enterprises.
- That's what I say.

Time, ladies and gentlemen, please.

Here, what do you mean, time?
Where do you think we are, in England?

No licensing laws here, my lad.
Isn't that so, Mr. Garland?

Yeah, that's right.
We close when I say.

Not even a music license?

You heard what the gentleman said.

- He's better than Hutch.
- Much.

Oh, Mr. Hu...

- How about a breath of fresh air?
- I think it's a bit too hot for walking.

~ I don't want to set the world ~

~ On fire ~

~ I just want to start ~

~ A little flame in your heart ~

~ In my heart I have but one desire... ~

Not bad, that boy of yours.
He'd be worth 20 quid a week to you.

- Yeah, I'll put him up a dollar.
- Hark at him.

A dollar rise for the poor little perisher.
Skin a maggot, you would.

- You keep a civil tongue in your head!
- Now, then! Now, then, now, then!

- What's going on here?
- Nothing you can do about it, cock!

That's right. You've said it right.

You're in a foreign country now, Ted.
Drink when you like.

Right. Mine's a pint.

Spiller!

Clear this place.
Go home, all you people.

You're suspended from duty.

Right, I'll have another pint.

I'm going to take proceedings
against you, Mr. Garland.

Your identity card, please.

Passing of betting slips
strictly prohibited.

Come to think of it,
I shan't need this any more either.

That's the stuff. Scrap 'em all.

Stop it! Stop it, you idiots!

Mr. Wix, you're a responsible man.
Can't you do something?

Certainly.

- This is a job for Scotland Yard.
- Whitehall 1212.

~ Knees up, Mother Brown
Knees up, Mother Brown ~

~ Knees up, knees up, get those
knees up, knees up, Mother Brown... ~

... question of Pimlico. No.
The Minister's out of town.

Hello?
Pimlico.

Put this call through
to the Home Office, please.

Yes, Pimlico.
No, Burgundy.

Pimlico.
Clear the line. Priority call.

Back again, sir?

Mr. Straker of the Foreign Office.

- Have you been here all night?
- Hm.

- What's this Pimlico stuff?
- Top priority.

- The old man wants immediate action.
- Well, what are you gonna do?

Well, I thought that as the treasure
was originally spoils of battle,

- I'd pass it on to the War Office.
- Oh, they wouldn't touch it.

You see, technically,
these Burgundians are aliens.

Aliens? Well, then, it's your pigeon.

No, no, they're undesirable aliens
so it's your pigeon.

I suppose you'll have to boot them
out of the country.

Yes, but it's their own country.

- There's your ten, Dad.
- All right.

Black market eggs!
Black market butter!

Lovely black market butter!

Come on, ladies!
Give the old man a treat! It's lovely!

All the grub you want
for a pre-war breakfast!

Nylons! Genuine stolen nylons!

Guinea a pair! Fully fashioned!

Get these lovely nylons!

Come on, ladies!

Turn it up! I'm coming!

- Good morning, Mrs. Randall.
- You gone barmy? It's Sunday.

Special delivery.
Two dozen boxes export silks.

That's right. Come on, let's have 'em.

Black market bacon!
Off the ration!

Hey, off the ration! Black market bacon!
Come and get your bacon!

- Mind your back, Ma.
- Hey, no parking here!

Who says so?

- Hi, you, get moving.
- Get out of it.

- Oh, it's like that, is it?
- Go on, you silly old slob.

- Hawker's license.
- You want to make something of it?

- Go on, sock him one, Harry.
- We'll see about that.

It's no use, Ted.
They've all read the papers.

Here comes Mr. Pemberton.

Go on, get out of it!
We're gonna start digging here.

What's going on?

Looks to me like the annual outing
from Dartmoor.

Ah, don't worry. I'm seeing to it.
Just going to ring the nick.

- Ah, the Chief Constable of Burgundy.
- Sir, about last night...

You'd better get yourself a new uniform.

This area is out of bounds
to the Metropolitan Police.

- What?
- Yes, Mr. Pemberton.

Home Office has just confirmed what
you were all shouting about last night.

It was a bit of nonsense.
We'd all had a few.

Yes, and Whitehall's got the headache.

And until they can decide
which department is responsible,

our orders are to keep out of Burgundy.

And in the meantime, I suppose, nobody
cares if we all get our throats cut?

I'm sorry,
I'm just telling you the position.

Oh, we're not having that.

We've all paid our rates.
We're entitled to police protection.

Gregg. Who?

Pemberton of Pimlico.

No, sir, no. Nobody can help you
unless you have delegatory powers.

Delegatory powers? Hm...

All right. But in plain English, I'm
speaking for all of us who live here.

But, my dear sir,
from the Home Office point of view,

you remain an anomalous
collection of individuals

unless you form
a representative committee.

What? Oh, yes.

Oh, certainly. Oh, then... then
it's a matter for the Foreign Office.

They won't talk to us till we form
a representative committee.

All right, let's call a general meeting
and elect one right away.

Hey!

45 shillings. I'll take two pounds
if you can do with it.

Over there. Two pounds for
the eiderdown. Ladies and gentlemen.

Mr. Wix. We're having a meeting.

Shut up.

Me on the committee?

I said they might want to elect you.
Who knows?

Edie Randall, MP for Burgundy.

They're all jelly!
All jelly! Jellied eels!

Two bob and pick where you like!
Lovely lot of jellied eels!

Jellied eels, they're champion!

Thank you, sir.

- Oi, manners, you!
- These ain't Danish eels.

- What, do you think I'd cheat the public?
- I know an Irish eel when I see it.

OK, have me arrested.

All right, laugh while you can. We'll
soon have you twisters out of here.

Yeah? What with? Your air force?

Fancy! Start a new country
when they don't know how to protect it.

Reports that
rationed articles and export goods

are being sold openly in Miramont Place

continue to come in
and are causing concern in Whitehall.

An official announcement
may be expected shortly.

Meanwhile, some of the residents
of the invaded area

are taking steps to curb what they
consider an abuse of their native soil.

10, 11...
Hey, one's enough there, Pop.

12,13,14,

15,16,17...

- I think you're in, Lady Astor!
- ...18, 19, 20,

21, 22, 23, 24,

- 25,26...
- Right.

That settles it.

Mrs. Randall, Mr. Spiller and yours truly.

Now I'd better ring up Whitehall
right away.

What's that? What's going on?

They're gonna sell out,
gonna give the place back to England.

Mr. Pemberton, just a minute.

If you hand Burgundy back,
they'll claim our treasure with it.

Oh, we can come to terms about that.

The important thing
is to get law and order here.

Can't have the place turned into a
spiv's paradise. Hello, Mr. Straker, please.

What about us business people?
This is our big chance, ain't it?

- Hear, hear!
- I'm in business too, aren't I?

That doesn't mean I want
to be murdered in my bed.

Shh. Shh, quiet!

Hello? Er... Mr. Straker?
My name is Arthur Pemberton.

I... I'd like to report that

we have now a formed a representative
committee of the people of Burgundy.

I see.

Yes. Oh, yes, yes,
I am in touch with Mr. Gregg.

But a rather abstruse
constitutional issue has now arisen,

and I'm afraid we shall have to pass
it on to the Law Offices Department.

Now, see here, sir. For all we know, that
might take weeks. All right, months.

Hello? Hello?

Ah, can you beat that?

First of all, they say
we must have a committee.

Now they say it can only be
officially recognised

if appointed in accordance with
the electoral laws of ancient Burgundy.

Well, that seems to settle things.

Unless, of course, somebody present
happens to be familiar

with the electoral laws
of ancient Burgundy.

But certainly.

It was the custom
for the Duke of Burgundy himself

to elect a council of two sheriffs,
one burgess,

and one hoof man
or captain of the guard.

Who might you be?

My name is Sebastien de Charolais,

and I come from Dijon,
capital of ancient Burgundy.

Mm. Only the Duke himself
can appoint a council,

and as there is no such person...

Oh, but you're wrong. There is
such person. I am the Duke of Burgundy.

No!

I am the direct descendant of Maurice
de Charolais, who came here in 1477.

Therefore I am the heir to the title.
I hope you don't mind.

Oh, no, no. I mean, well... l mean,
well, it's a bit of a turn-up, isn't it?

Here is my evidence. These documents
have been in my family for centuries.

I have always thought they were
of no value, just an amusing curiosity.

But when I read about your discovery,
I said to myself...

Yes, I bet you did.

Hm. Of course,
you want them to be examined.

Oh, indubitably.

Hello, Pemberton's?

Oh, yes.

What, can't he eat anything? Oh, poor
little fellow. Must be this heat.

Yes, all right.
I'll have something for him.

Send him round the back door, will you?
Thank you. Goodbye.

Mrs. Wilson.

Sorry, folks.

Well, there seems
nothing more to be done

until this gentleman's claims
are investigated.

So, all we can do
is to adjourn the meeting.

- Hear, hear!
- Hear, hear!

- I am afraid I am a great nuisance.
- No, no, no. Not at all.

- You may be the very man we want.
- I hope so.

Au revoir, madame.

Au revoir.

Mademoiselle, it occurs to me that I ought
to know something about my dukedom.

Would you care to show me
a little of this new Burgundy?

Well, I could do
with a breath of fresh air.

Alors, we go.

So gay and exciting.

So different
from our dreary French towns.

J I just want to start
a little flame in your heart

~ In my heart I have but one desire... ~

Professor Hatton-Jones?

Oh. Yes, it is, very urgent.

When?

Oh.

No, all right.
I'll ring again in the morning.

Today,
after reading in the Sunday papers,

that the laws of the United Kingdom
cannot be held to operate in Burgundy,

from an early hour,

London Transport officials have had to
deal with crowds of Cup Tie dimensions

on all tube and bus routes to Pimlico.

Here is an official announcement

issued from Whitehall
within the last hour.

Pending the introduction
of a new Act of Parliament

the public are earnestly asked

not to exploit the prevailing
currency leak in Pimlico

and to refrain from entering
the area involved.

Should this appeal be disregarded,

the Government may be
reluctantly compelled

to apply sterner measures forthwith.

Talk, talk, talk!

Why can't they do something?

- Your coffee, sir.
- Thank you. Pour it in, please.

You know, your England
is a most remarkable nation.

Everywhere else, governments
command, scream, shout,

but here it just has to ask people
politely to stay away and they do.

Ha-ha-ha!

I still say a remarkable nation.

Entrez.

Come in!

Good morning, sir.
I hope you'll pardon us for...

I am the culprit.

This is Professor Hatton-Jones
of the London University.

The moment our good friend told me
the news, I was Arion, I was Zephyrus!

Nothing could detain me
from instant communion

with the living survivor
of the House of Charolais!

Er... you have examined my documents?

Oh, a cursory glance.

Personally, I have no doubt at all
as to the question of your lineage.

Forgive me, are you a bleeder?

- I beg your pardon?
- Do you suffer from haemophilia?

When you cut yourself,
do you bleed interminably?

- No, I don't think so.
- Ah, a pity.

It's in the family.
Definitely in the family.

Oh, I am very sorry.

- I don't want to hurry you, Professor, but...
- Oh, quite, quite! Ha-ha-ha!

I mustn't embark on family matters
or I'll be here all day.

I have to take these off
for a sulphate reaction test.

I'll soon be back, though.
Depend on that.

Now that I know you're truly extant,
I go away satisfied.

Ha-ha! What Gollut would give
to be in my shoes!

Ha! I could even put
Schmel in the shade!

How long is this chemical test
going to take?

- That's contingent on certain factors.
- Please hurry it up.

If things go on like this much longer...

What's happened now?
They're packing up.

- What does this mean?
- I don't know.

You'll have to take
your place in the queue, madam.

What's the idea holding us up like this?
I got my dinner to cook.

Ah, look at that.

- Action at last.
- Yes.

That'll keep the spivs out.

Oh, er... Mr. Pemberton.

- Ah.
- Mr. Pemberton.

- Good morning.
- Good morning.

This is Mr. Bagshawe of the, er...
Board of Customs & Excise.

He'd like to have a
word with you people.

There are just a few things
I would like to explain.

- If I might step over your frontier.
- By all means.

I must congratulate you
on the speed with which you have...

Oh, excuse me, Professor. This looks
like the solution to all our troubles.

This way.

In the line, please, madam.

Have you anything to declare, madam?

Any food stuff, livestock,
linen or cotton goods?

I hardly think this is likely to include
the credentials of the Duke of Burgundy.

Would you mind
opening that case, madam?

This really is a big relief to us, I can tell you.
It's a very very clever bit of...

- No, no, I think you're wrong.
- What's all that in aid of?

- But we tore 'em up, I tell you!
- You let him have it, Dad!

That's where we live, right there.

It's merely part
of the Customs procedure.

We naturally have to enforce
the immigration laws.

You can't have the one
without the other.

Yes, but...

Frederick Albert Cowan Esquire. That's
me. Number four, Miramont Gardens.

I am sorry, sir.

The order specifies
that identity cards must be produced

by residents who wish
to re-enter the street.

Do you mean to say that
all of us who live in this street

have got to go through that rigmarole
every time we want to leave our homes?

Oh, for a month or two.

After all,
pending a new Act of Parliament,

this is technically foreign territory.

Ha-ha-ha! Foreign territory!

I suppose that means

British subjects won't be allowed
to spend any money here.

What about all our customers?

You can't stop us earning
an honest living.

I've never heard
such a lot of rot in my life.

Don't blame me, ladies and gentlemen.

Edward IV's the one
who made you foreigners.

Here we go again!

- You people make me tired.
- Order, order!

Oh, shut up. Did you ever
hear such tripe in your life?

- Now look here, sir!
- And you shut up too.

All right, if that's the way Whitehall
want it, in future, we'll be foreigners.

That's the stuff, Dad.

We'll fight them in the tramlines,
we'll fight them in the local.

Good evening, Professor.

Oh, good evening.

Your friends in Miramont Place
have got themselves into a nice mess.

Poor souls.
The innocent victims of destiny.

They started all this nonsense.

Now they've got to put up
with the consequences.

Ah, but will they?
The Burgundians are a fighting people.

Consider what they did
against the might of Louis XI.

I fail to see what this little mob
can do against the might of Britain.

Oh! Get up, please.

All passports. Passports ready, please.

All hand luggage open, please.

Time to make
your currency declarations, please.

What the devil does this mean?

The train is now
at the Burgundian frontier.

A fighting people, Mr. Bassett.

Worthy successors
of the Knights of the Golden Fleece.

Have you anything to declare, madam?

Any food stuff, livestock,
linen or cotton goods?

No.

Any muskrats,
mealworms, motorcycles,

hashish, prepared opium
or agricultural machinery?

Oh!

Have you any foreign currency?
English pounds? Traveller's cheques?

- Suppose I have?
- I just wondered.

No passage beyond this point
without passports. All passports.

- Here is mine.
- Hm?

What is it you... you... Baratooshe,

er... Baratooshe,

er... Baratooshe... United Kingdom!

England, United Kingdom!

All hand luggage ready for inspection,
please. Anything to declare?

Anything to declare, sir? Any livestock,
foodstuff, linen or cotton goods?

Rather!

Come along.
Come along, please.

All ready with your passports.
Get your passports out.

So reminds me of the time
I visited the catacombs.

Mr. Pemberton, this is preposterous.

Sorry, Mr. Bassett.
We're a foreign country now.

We can't allow tourists
without the usual formalities.

Come along, sir, please.

- Pass down the track.
- The Duke!

- Oh, madam, is it proved?
- Beyond a title of a doubt.

Yes, gentlemen, you see before you
the 18th Duke of Burgundy.

Your liege lord, your sovereign!

Floreat Burgundia!

Stop that train!

What are we going to tell the old man?

Well, after this underground business,

I doubt if he will give us
a chance to open our mouths.

Soap.

Were you issued with this?

No, I pinched it
from the French Embassy.

Oh. Ha-ha.

This situation, though,
it's an absolute deadlock.

Oh, no, not quite.

Now that this Duke
has been officially recognised,

we can at least talk to them.

- Towel?
- The time for talk's past.

Any more talk and we've had it.
We've got to do something.

We've got to tell this Duke
where he gets off.

Oh, well, I hope the old man
won't put me on to it.

After all, this fellow's been made
a sort of king in a way.

Yes. Probably having his coronation
at this very moment.

Well, why don't you loosen your tie,
Your Grace?

- I thought you'd be used to the heat.
- Well, it's never as bad as that in Dijon.

All the same, I bet you'd rather
be there than couped up here.

Why do you think it
so much nicer than Pimlico?

I imagine it's a little more romantic.

Oh, do you? What do you think
we would be doing in Dijon this evening?

Well, we... we'd eat in the open

and dance in the main square
under the trees.

Then maybe we'd go for a little walk

up one of those funny old
cobbled streets to the castle

and when we reach the orange grove...

we'd sit beneath the castle wall

and watch the dawn come up.

And, er...
in the cool morning breeze,

maybe I would put my coat
around your shoulders

and...

Well, anyway,
I'm afraid Dijon is not a bit like that.

We cannot dance in the main square because
of the trams which run all night,

and, er... we cannot grow oranges
because it's too cold,

and, er... where the castle was,
well, today there is a cement factory.

Then it's just about as romantic
as Camden Town.

Ah, but the people,
they make it different.

You should see us at the vendange,
the, er... the wine harvest,

when all over the country,
the peasants celebrate.

And they are gay,
not... not drunk but very, very gay.

And, er... well, I suppose
we would walk in the moonlight,

through the sloping vineyards,

and we would come to an old Roman
ruin called the Temple d'Amour,

- Hm?
- The Temple of Love.

I see. And there the walk ends
and I succumb to your gallant charm.

Oh, no. No, no, no, no. Because my
intentions, they are most honourable.

I would talk to you about my job
at the hotel, my income, my prospects,

- No funny business at all?
- Absolutely none.

- No?
- No.

Let's go in.

Hi, you two! Hullo there!

- What is it, Dad?
- Gentleman here to see the Duke!

Oh.

Well, I'm really glad.

Course, I always knew you people would
have to recognise us sooner or later.

- Ah, here is the Duke.
- Ah, Your Excellency.

Allow me to present my credentials.

But I'm not the ruler now.
No, they've asked me to form a cabinet.

- Oh, long live democracy!
- Vive l'Angleterre!

- Vive la France!
- What next'?

Well, you will understand that after
today's incident on the underground,

His Majesty's Government
does not feel inclined to negotiate

with a pistol at its head.

Now that we've come down to brass
tacks, I can guarantee there'll be no...

His Majesty's Government has a traditional
dislike of unilateral guarantees.

It has therefore felt itself compelled,
most reluctantly,

to close the frontier
as from 10 a.m. tomorrow.

- Close the frontier?
- What about us?

A church hall has been equipped
for the evacuation of all those who...

- Church hall?
- Evacuation?

What about our treasure?

Well, for the time being, that can be
moved to the Bank of England.

Oh, yeah?
Well, I'm not moving anyway.

I beg your pardon?

If the Nazis couldn't
drive me out of my home

with all their bombs
and rockets and doodlebugs,

you don't catch me packing up now!

Hear, hear!

I trust you realise that
the alternative is complete isolation?

Power politics, eh?

I have merely explained the position.
I cannot do more.

I do hope that moderation will prevail.

Moderation? He's an optimist.

You're barmy, the lot of you.
We've had a good run and this is it.

That's OK, Jim. If you want to turn
it in, nobody is going to stop you.

But we're not going to stand for that.

You can't push English people around
like sacks of potatoes.

English?

Don't you come that stuff, Jim Garland.

We always were English
and we always will be English.

And it's just because we are English

that we're sticking out
for our right to be Burgundians.

Hear, hear!

- Good night.
- Good night.

Well, you've burned
your boats now all right.

Ha-ha! I have?
You haven't done so bad yourself.

Worried?

No, never felt less worried in my life.

That's right, we'll show 'em.

Only, what?
That's what I want to know.

Yeah, you're not the only one.

The closing of
the frontier at ten o'clock this morning

marks the deadline
for the 19 families of Burgundy.

They have the choice of accepting
the Government's evacuation offer

or of subjecting themselves
and their children

to the hardships
of what would be virtually a siege.

Come along, children.

Good old Steve! Have a bash!

Binny, tell your Auntie Flo
about your heat rash.

Now, Charlie, you tell the driver
when you're going to be sick.

Attention, please. Attention, please.

Anyone who wishes to leave this area

has precisely two minutes
in which to do so.

Just a minute.
You need a passport to get in here.

Oi. What's the big idea?

I'm with you, mate.
I was born here. My mother just told me.

Honest? Come on in, then.

The frontier
will be closed in precisely one minute.

This is your last chance.

Save your breath, mate.

We've made up our minds
and we're stopping right where we are.

I'll thank you not to interrupt me.

I'll thank you
not to raise your voice to me, sir.

If I can't raise my voice
in my own country...

We're sick and tired of
your voice in this country. Now, shut up!

I beg your pardon?
I said shut up!

Shut up yourself!

- I told 'em, didn't I?
- Here comes "The Fourth Programme".

Give us a glass of water.

Don't you know there's a siege on?

Cor, look at that,
the siege of Burgundy.

I'd like to see that.

Look at them pictures.

She took my last coppers.

- They ought to have let us in free.
- Get in your seat.

This week's exclusive
camera report tells of growing tension

on both sides of Burgundy's
self-imposed iron curtain.

For the first time since World War II,

Britain's party politics
have been forgotten.

The nation's leaders
have come together

to seek a solution
to this unprecedented crisis.

Burgundy has enlarged its own privy
council to grapple with affairs of state.

Presiding over it is the Duke,

who has decided to remain with his
people in their national emergency.

At last, after 500 years, Burgundy
has avenged her ancient defeat

'in the bloodless battle
of the underground,

has stepped once more
into the pages of the history book.

And today this newest brother
of the world democracies

is hammering out its internal policy.

Under the inspiration
of its ancient leader,

Burgundy adopts to the new way of life.

Rationing is severe,

and food from every home in Burgundy is
stored in the cellars of the state pub.

Food Minister is Miss Molly Reid.

Owing to shortage at the fish shop,
she became a displaced person.

Perhaps you will tell us something
about the Ministry, Miss Reid.

Well, it's ever so nice, really.

I expect you feel very proud

at having been directed to be guardian
angel over the national larder?

Oh, yes, ever so.

Do you want me to say anything else?

Many other changes
have taken place inside Burgundy,

not only in appearance
but also in the mode of living.

Now that all food is stored in once place
and meal times can be standardised,

communal feeding has been introduced under
the supervision of the Duke himself.

It is a great success.

Continental cooking
has so much more flavour.

Commercial dealings
have come to a standstill.

Behind locked doors, Burgundy's
Chancellor of the Exchequer

is trying to solve his country's
unique currency problem

of too much gold chasing
too few opportunities.

Would you care to say
a few words, sir?

Well, er... Pemberton and I have
made up our early differences

and today in Burgundy

we are absolutely unanimous
in our resolve to keep our treasure.

And now a word from
Burgundy's Prime Minister,

Mr. Arthur Pemberton.

Er... yes, well, I'm happy to say that

after early opposition
from the Pimlico Council,

my long-cherished scheme
for an open-air swimming pool

is now going ahead with the full
approval of the Burgundy Council.

And so the glory
of the resurrected State of Burgundy

rises like a phoenix from the ash cans.

But although this idea
was popular in the model stage,

the lunch whistle sounds a louder
message

than hitting the production target.

Like all other public
works in Burgundy,

this scheme is the result of a scientific
democratic analysis of public opinion.

The great drought caused
by London's longest heat wave

is the one serious threat
to Burgundy's independence.

80-year-old records for lack of
rainfall have all gone overboard.

Water is cut off, but liquor makes do.

So, Burgundy washes up in a pint of bitter,
and makes tea with a kettle of boiling gin.

In fact, Burgundians are spending
their water like money.

So, this strangest of all sieges
continues,

a matter of principle to the
Burgundians, a headache to Whitehall.

But wherever our sympathies may lie
in this cold war in the heat wave,

whatever the rights and wrongs
of the case,

one cannot but say,
"Plucky little Burgundy!"

Yippee! Yippee!

That's my mum, that is, on the council!

On the Council of Burgundy!

Come here!
Come here, Monty! Come here!

Hey!

- Any news?
- I've no statement to make.

There are exactly two gallons,
three quarts,

and one and one eighth pints of water
left in the whole of Burgundy.

Well, I move we pass
a law against washing.

- What, in this kind of weather?
- Really?

You keep quiet, my girl.
You're not even on this committee.

Well, there it is.

We must either get water, or else.

Hey, we might make a sortie.
Like my ancestor at the siege of Dijon.

The amount of water
we could carry back...

Why don't you use your common sense?

They've turned off the hydrant
at the corner, haven't they?

Well, go and turn it on again.

How many more weeks are we
going to walk round this barbed wire?

Search me!

What do they think this Burgundy mob's
gonna do'? Invade England?

- Oh, good evening, officer.
- Good evening, sir.

Oh, it's so hot, one cannot sleep.

You know, it reminds me of a very,
very hot night on the Riviera,

and there was a lovely brunette
and a beautiful blonde.

I'd have laid an even monkey
there'd be moonlight.

- Just our luck.
- Now, quiet as you can, everyone.

But it must be terrible for you,
officer, wearing that thick uniform.

Oh, that's all right, miss.

Good luck, Ted.

And lovely eyes.

- What was that?
- I didn't hear anything.

Must have been cats or something.
Do you like cats, officer?

I don't care.
You're not going to do your pools now.

- Where do you think you're going?
- You're drunk. Drunk in charge!

Quite right, officer. I'll come quietly.

No, I don't want to be too hard on you.
Be more careful in future.

Hey! Hey! I say!

Go on, beat it!

Will you go away?

- Why don't you arrest me?
- Oh, go on, go away!

Well, why don't you arrest me?
This is a free country, isn't it?

Hey! Will you go away?
Look, haven't you got a home?

Blimey. Copper.

I've had the police after me!

Oh, it's good.

Taken 'em longer than I expected.

Look, they're taking no more chances.

Jackson, to the right. Round up there.

Who cares? Last us a month,
this little lot alone.

- Mr. Pemberton!
- Dad, come quick!

- Would you come to the pub at once?
- What's up?

Molly tried to wash her hands
when... when there was no water.

- She left the tap turned on in the bar!
- Strewth!

Well, it wasn't my fault.

I didn't know you were gonna
turn the water on again.

Nobody ever tells me anything!

It's all right, Moll.
It's no use crying over spilt milk.

Smith's Crisps!

Four tins, that's all that's left.

Everything else has had it.

I reckon we've all had it this time.

Well, we can't let them starve to death.

We can't not let them starve to death.

I wish we could pass it on to UNO.

Well, why not?

Maudie, can you get me a line
to Lake Success?

Yes, Success.

Hello?
Yes, sir? What, Burgundy?

Oh, Burgundy!

Really'? Yes, of course, sir.

We can have a coach standing by
for them. Yes, right you are, sir.

I say, they've had enough of it.
They're ready to pack it up.

- Statement in the press?
- Rather.

Fleet Street should do us proud on this.

Jolly rotten shame, that's what I say.

Yeah, starving people out.

Oi, come and have a look at this!

Five minutes to go.

- How do we go?
- By the same coach as the kids.

- Oh.
- That's that.

Now I know
what Napoleon felt like before Waterloo.

- After, Dad.
- Mum!

- Hey, Dad!
- Here you are, Mum.

- Dad!
- Here you are, Mum!

Give us another one,
there's a good boy.

Come on, Benny. Come on, my lad.

- Ah, what do you think of that?
- Been a good boy? Had a nice time?

Here you are, Mum, catch!
Here you are!

- I would have fetched more for you.
- Haven't got any more.

Pity I didn't have more money,
else I would have got you some more.

- I haven't got no more.
- I'm sorry I haven't got no more, Mum.

- No more?
- No, I haven't got no more money.

Mummy, here. Guess what'?
I saw you on a newsreel the other day.

You didn't half look good.

Oh, go on, Dad. Let me feed them too.

- Oh, go on. Go on, Dad, let me.
- All right, then, go on.

Here, that's our lunch!

Hey!

I'll ring the station.

Oranges! Nice sweet oranges!

Oranges!

Come on, give us a chance!

There they are, Pemberton.

- Who cares now?
- That's right.

Tell them what they can do
with their hearse.

- Mr. Pemberton.
- Hello, Mr. Straker.

- Your party ready?
- Well, I don't know.

Er... things have changed a bit,
haven't they?

Don't say our journey
is entirely fruitless.

Oh, I wouldn't say that.
We're always open to talk.

But we expected this to be
unconditional surrender.

We... we have no powers to negotiate.

Well, sir, I suggest
you come back when you have.

- This is where we came in.
- Oh, I wouldn't worry.

This bit of food
won't last them more than a day.

I say no appeasement!

Britain can't buy gold.

Well, that's not
Burgundy's fault, is it?

Well, if you're not prepared
to meet us even halfway...

We are, buy half the gold.

Ah, my old beauty!
Up the Express Dairy!

Milko! Milko!

There she is, the old cow!
Right on time!

Bang on time! That's the old girl!

Come on, my little lady!
There's a sight for sore eyes!

OK?

Ladies and gentlemen,
I think I have the solution.

I propose that we lend
the capital of our treasure

to the Chancellor of the Exchequer,

while the interest is used for the
benefit of the Borough of Pimlico.

- A Burgundian loan to Britain.
- Ah.

My dear sir! My very dear sir!

A second Montagu Norman!

Careful, my man!
You will tear it.

This was the standard
presented to the Duke Charles

by the 14 burgers of Bruges.

I have assured the museum authorities
it shall be returned undamaged.

Real Burgundy!

You see this vineyard?
It's ten minutes from where we live.

When you come to Dijon,
I'll take you there.

Mr. Huggins! It's sort of nice
being back at the old shop, isn't it?

- Is it?
- Yes.

I'd almost forgotten what it feels like,
handling a lobster.

Remember one day you said
you'd like to go to Billingsgate?

Yes?

Take you there tomorrow.

Oh, Mr. Huggins.

I never thought anybody would be
pleased to see these things again.

You never know when you're well off
till you aren't.

Are you nearly ready?

Yes, shan't be long! Just about!

They're here!

Do you think we shall get
more than two main dishes?

I hope so. Haven't had a decent feed
since that last deadlock in Moscow.

And in these last few seconds
before your welcome return,

I am to express His Majesty's
Government's sincere appreciation

for your splendid conduct
of internal affairs

during your temporary absence
from the Kingdom.

Ladies and gentlemen!

We're back in England!

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