Original subtitles

Cecil: That's a very bold move.

Virginia: That's a terrible decision.

With the greatest respect.

I think you're an idiot.

I'll bear that in mind.

I've already forgotten about it?

Correct. We're in a bit of a pickle.

We're all going to die.

Very good. You're really getting the hang of this.

Thank you. I've been practicing.

Although your self-deprecation needs some work.

You need to be careful, Cecil,

or you'll over-exercise that horse.

We're toast of the town.

Look, open air opera, garden party,

grouse shooting, which we'll decline

on conservational grounds.

And I've been asked to give a talk on Boston cuisine

to the Women's Institute. And you've been asked

if you'd like to join the village darts league.

Hmm. Would I?

Well, according to Mrs. Umney,

it involves men hurling pointed missiles at a target.

And what red blooded male wouldn't like it?

Although maybe not one for the boys.

But it's nice they've made friends, though.

And Ginny and Cecil Canterville seem to get on well.

Maybe a little too well?

Well, Ginny's got more sense

than to get involved with an engaged man.

Yeah, of course she does.

You know what, Hiram? I feel we've turned a corner.

This place is starting to feel like home.

You know, we should hold a ball.

Show them we're here to stay.

- A ball? - Oh, it's English for party.

You know, it's dinner and dancing and fancy dress.

Oh, what are you thinking?

Oh, Christmas time. Like a Snowball.

Theme, "Festive Spirit."

Sure.

Is it not going well?

Teething problems.

Oh, sweetie, you've already made one fortune for this family.

That should be enough for anyone.

Sir Simon: Quieter.

Ohh, the clamour cleaves my brain like a...

cleaver.

Faster.

Er, not so fast.

There, there, there.

Cesspitt: This introspection is bad for your performance.

These people are evidently

on a lowly material plane of existence.

Quite incapable of appreciating the symbolic values

of sensuous phenomena.

I will't not play before such an unappreciative audience.

Cesspitt: There is the small matter

of your contractual obligation

to appear once a week

and gibber from the grand staircase.

Gaunt Gideon, tired cliche.

He's a classic.

Literally, a heart stopper.

I'll wager he could teach those feral cubs a lesson

they'll wish they could forget.

Oh, I'll, erm, just leave it here, then.

Charity: Here.

Peter Lovell's plans should be inside this.

Wait, they're the same, no priest hole.

This isn't the master plan.

There has to be another one.

Wait, the box is wrong.

- Patience: The dimensions. - It's deeper on the outside.

There has to be a secret compartment.

It's a puzzle, right? So there must be a key.

- The key... - What?

...is the key.

- What? - What?

This symbol means moon.

- The moon. - Press the moon.

- Nothing. - Try all of them.

Cecil: Try this.

Thank you for risking your life by running into

a burning building to save my children.

An American would respond?

- You're welcome. - Now in British.

Oh, it was nothing. A stroke of luck.

I just happened to be passing?

You're good.

It isn't down to me. I had a good teacher.

Spoken like a native.

It's not so hard when you realise

British is merely saying what you don't mean

to avoid talking about your feelings.

We regard feelings as scabs.

The more you pick away at them, the more they bleed.

Okay, moving on to quick fire pronunciation.

- "Vy-tamin." - "Vit-amin."

"Priv-ar-cy."

"Pryv-acy."

Fiancee.

How are the wedding plans?

Moppy's in her element.

To be honest, next summer feels like a lifetime away.

What are you two up to?

Cecil: Hey, mate.

Cecil's teaching me British.

"Fancy a brew?"

Okay, yeah, thanks.

Patience: An escape tunnel

running the length of the great wing.

If you were gonna wall someone up alive,

there's no better place to do it.

Except the entrance isn't marked.

Dad's back!

Erm...

Come on.

- Come on. - Hurry!

- It won't go back. - Then work it out.

- He's coming! - Help me press the moons.

What are you doing in there?

Hello, Mr. Lovell. We're doing a history project,

and Patience here offered to help us.

With a history project?

She's extremely well-informed in architecture.

In fact, she was just explaining how the North Tower

and Great Wing are of Tudor construction,

built between 1570 and 1579.

Well, I'm glad she's taken something in.

But these documents are centuries old and very fragile.

If you do want to see them, in future, you ask me.

- Yes, sir. - Yes, Dad.

Aye. Off you go, then.

Good boy.

That's it. That's the end of that.

We'll never get to see it now.

Oh, yes, we will. I switched the plans.

Is there a problem?

This machine is 70 years old

and, er, sometimes needs a bit of a rest.

A minute usually does it.

Oh, look at you, hmm.

How about that?

They don't make them like that anymore, Mrs. Umney.

They certainly don't, sir.

Where's Cecil?

What on earth's the matter, Moppy?

The wedding is off.

Moppy?

Theo: What's the point of drawing plans

for a secret tunnel and not showing how to get in?

Patience: In case they fall into the wrong pair of hands.

It will be marked somewhere. We just have to find it.

So you keep saying. What a waste of time.

No!

Sorry, I'll dry it, okay?

Stop! It's burning!

Patience: Now look what you've done.

Theo: It's not burnt. That's writing.

Frank: What is that?

Patrin.

The secret code of our people.

Theo: So what does it all mean?

- I've no idea. - I've no idea.

The wedding, Cecil. We have a situation.

Can we talk about this in private?

Whatever for? This concerns us all.

Prince Richard is making a Commonwealth tour

and will be in the Bahamas for the wedding.

That's, erm, terrible.

Telling me. Weather in the Caribbean's

filthy that time of year.

Mush, Daddy. The only reason Hello are coming

is on the condition that he's there.

No Prince Richard equals no wedding.

It's not the end of the world if we delay it.

Thankfully, there's no need for that.

Quite the opposite, in fact.

Debo has sorted everything.

I had a word with Caro Wales,

and she was frightfully understanding.

Found a window in their diary for December.

And to apologise for the inconvenience,

Dickie has offered to give away the bride.

Suits me.

December is...

It's less than two months.

I know what you're thinking, but it's all sorted.

Christmas trees instead of flowers.

Carols from King's College Cambridge Choir.

Replace the Bedouin tents with ice igloos.

Midsummer Night's Dream becomes...Narnia.

Where did you get these?

Theo: On an old map we found.

Patience: Can you translate them?

These are letters M, C, L.

This is the knot of the four winds

and this, a cockerel feather.

Well, what about the others?

The diamonds and the wheel I don't recognise,

only that is the letter J.

Do you know what it means?

I know that it's for you to find out.

Good evening, Sir Simon.

Thou dost admire my portrait.

The Cantervilles have always been blest

with pulchritudinous visages.

Forgive me for saying, but you haven't aged at all well.

The undead age like the living,

just a bit slower.

In time, the flesh will drop from my body,

my repertoire reduced to clanking bones.

And eventually even they will crumble to dust.

Floating in limbo for all eternity.

That's terrible.

Almost 500 years, I have not slept.

I'm so tired.

Sir Simon, may I ask about Lady Eleanor?

Whatever for?

Ghastly woman.

Never had my ruffs starched properly,

and knew nothing, nothing about cookery.

She died in 1576,

which is a year after legend says you killed her.

Lucy: Ginny?

Hi, honey. I thought I heard voices.

- Only me. - Goodness, it's cold in here.

Beautiful, isn't it?

Sure is.

You know, even if you haven't found Simeon Otis,

it doesn't mean you don't belong here

or that you aren't the same man.

An exceptional man who I couldn't be more proud of.

Hiram, Is there something else?

I'm ruined, Lucy.

Hiramco overextended, and the bank called in the debt.

What?

Hiram, why didn't you tell me?

We were hoping for a last-minute bailout.

I didn't want to worry you until it was certain.

I've lost everything.

It's gone, Lucy.

The company, the money, everything.

No, Hiram, not everything.

Not anything that matters.

We've got our health,

each other, and we have the children.

Hiram: How do you think they'll take it?

Virginia: So does that mean we're leaving?

Hiram: On the contrary.

The house is the only thing the banks can't seize

because it doesn't belong to the company.

But we're no longer rich.

You give us $20 a week allowance. You can keep that.

And the treasure, that's if we find it.

Hey, that won't be necessary.

You know, we may not be rich, but we aren't destitute.

I can get a job, Dad.

There's really no need. You know I'm going back to work.

Remember, you know, all this is, is temporary.

Your dad's working hard on his new invention.

And if he can invent one fortune,

hey, I'm sure he can invent another one.

Darn right I can.

Cesspitt: "Gideon enters as an icy cold spectre.

The boy childes wake in their beds,

their screams strangling in their throats."

"Scream worse thou canst, my pretties."

"The monstrous apparition sits upon their chests,

producing stifling sensation of nightmare

till they are paralysed with fear."

"Angels in heaven, help us!"

How canst they scream while paralysed with fear?

Does paralysis include vocal cords?

It doesn't give you much to play off.

Perhaps partial paralysis might convey more terror.

Cesspitt: Ah.

"Aguls hellc us"?

Oh, better.

"Deaf to their entreaties,

the bloodsucker stalks the room,

baring his carmine teeth and uttering groans from the grave."

Ahhhhggghhh...

Uhhhhhhhh.

Oooooh...

I think the has more gravitas.

"Ahhhhggghhh..."

Lady Deborah: See this, Danby?

The rich, vulgar Americans are now just vulgar Americans.

Indeed, Your Ladyship.

See if the boy will come to his senses now.

Virginia: My dad was never cut out for the boardroom.

Turns out the guy he left in charge wasn't, either.

Over expanded in Southeast Asia

just before the economic downturn.

Are you leaving?

The Chase, it appears,

is the only roof we have left over our heads.

I'm glad.

Not about -- I'm glad you aren't leaving.

Not when I've just learnt the language.

I need to tell you something.

About the wedding.

Can it wait? I have to get back.

Come on, Jim!

See you soon.

Patience: Boys, stop making a mess.

Cockerel feather, four winds,

M-C-L-G and a diamond.

Wheel of clubs and two diamonds.

Can you turn that darn thing off? We're trying to think here.

You've been staring at it for days.

No, we need a different plan.

Frank: Have you got one?

Capture the Ghost and don't release him

until he's told us where the priest hole is.

Like we can catch a ghost. We aren't Ghostbusters.

The ghost is made of atoms, particles of matter like dust.

- And how do we trap dust? - Cytronic technology.

Exactly. All we need to do

is calculate the mass and recalibrate.

Lucy: Sweetie, did you know the Stilton Canterville wedding's

been moved forward?

It's December 18th now.

Why would that affect me?

Would you like some eggs, Miss?

No, thank you, Mrs. Umney.

I'm not very hungry.

I think I'll skip breakfast.

What's all that about?

Hiram, can you not see what's going on right under your nose?

Mrs. Umney: Mushrooms, Sir?

Mmm.

Lady Deborah: I take it you've heard?

What's it to do with me?

Virginia and I are just friends.

I am neither blind nor senile,

and I won't let you risk this marriage.

This isn't just about you. It's about the future of this family.

Sounds more like a merger than a marriage.

That's exactly what it is.

The British aristocracy are becoming an endangered species.

Money and birthright no longer go hand in hand.

If we are to survive, we must stick together.

You have two choices, Cecil.

Marry Moppy Stilton,

or throw your lot in with a penniless American

and become a pauper, too.

I will cut you off without a penny

and leave Featherstonehaugh to the National Trust.

So, what's it to be?

Moppy: Cecil? Are you there?

Coming.

I'm glad you've seen sense.

♪ I'm lonely, I'm lonely, oh, please can you hold me? ♪

♪ That's all I ask, no more than that ♪

♪ I'm lonely, I'm lonely, oh, why can't you hold me? I'm ♪

You okay, honey?

Virginia: Sure. Why wouldn't I be?

Not riding today?

I don't feel like it.

Look, I don't want to interfere.

Mom, you always say that right before you interfere.

When you have kids yourself,

you'll realise it's in the job description.

And I couldn't help but notice

that you and Cecil have gotten close.

And maybe the wedding moving forward is for the best.

Mom, I appreciate the concern, but you're way off the mark.

Cecil and I are just friends,

and I couldn't be happier for him.

Sure.

All I'm saying is I'm here if you want to talk.

Actually, Mom, I've some work in the library to do.

Oh, Dad's genealogy project?

Not exactly.

Frank: That's it. Right there. Now tie it off.

Come on. It's heavy.

- I'm trying. - Then try harder.

Here goes.

Alright.

A most ignominious chapter in this family's history.

Suffice said, he was a wicked man who killed his wife

and after stole the family's jewels

and fled as a thief in the night,

whence justice struck.

Set upon by his wife's brothers

and bricked up alive within his own walls

so he would never be shriven.

I'm guessing you've tried giving it a rest.

She's at rest for good now, Sir.

Ah, I'm sorry to hear that.

Never failed me in over 50 years.

I suppose I shouldn't get upset over a machine.

Oh, no, no, I know exactly what you mean.

I mean, Bessie here, she's part of the family.

You want me to take a look?

I know a thing or two about vacuums.

Bet there's life in the old girl yet.

Thank you, sir.

Oh...

Oh, thank you.

So, tell me,

why all the interest in Sir Simon?

His so-called legend is full of inconsistencies.

It says he killed his wife, but Lady Eleanor died in 1576.

And here it says he was murdered by his wife's brothers,

who at the time were aged just 11 and 12.

Lucy: Intriguing.

Sounds like you have a cold case on your hands.

Virginia: Unless he had another wife.

Suit of Armour: I am the Otis ghost,

the only true and original spook.

Beware of ye imitations.

All others are counterfeit.

How dare'st thee, trespass about Canterville.

On my birth night, get back, ye varlet.

Patience: Now!

- Gotcha. - What will you do with it?

Analyse the mass to atom ratio.

You can do that?

We know a man who can.

I wasn't tricked?

Cesspitt: Tricked, foiled and outwitted.

They defiled me.

I am mutilated.

Incomplete.

The haunter hath become the hunted.

Mm, huh, darn it!

- Hey, Dad. - Hey, Dad.

Hiram: Hey, guys.

What do you need?

We just want to work out the mass to atom ratio.

Of what?

Oh, then you'll need to run a deformulation program.

- Can I ask what it is? - Just kids' stuff.

We're trying to make a new type of stink bomb.

Mm-hmm.

Well, this ought'er do it.

That's a mass atom analyser.

You're welcome to use it on one condition.

You tell me what you're really doing.

Truth this time.

It's Sir Simon.

Sir Simon as in...?

The ghost. Well, a sample of him anyway.

We're trying to work out his mass

so we can make a ghost catcher.

Then we'll force him to tell us

where the Canterville treasure is buried.

Oh, you will? Well, you got it all figured out.

Be my guest.

How are you --

Oh, never mind.

Hey, Ralph.

Waiting for someone?

I was just giving Jim a rest.

Er, do you want some company, then?

That'd be great.

A human adult is made of approximately octillion atoms.

However, our ghost here comprises of just half that,

and they appear to be lighter.

So he's like us, just less substantial.

Exactly. So what we really need to do

is recalibrate the cyclone, and we can suck him up.

How are we going to do that one, Einstein?

Theo: Cytronic technology, obviously.

Is this really necessary?

I wouldst not expect a hedge born fustilarian

to appreciate the nuances of an understated performance.

And there is a great deal to be said for this invention.

Hiram: I'm sorry it's not better news.

Every internal part would need replacing.

So while she'd look the same on the outside,

inside, there'd be nothing left of the original.

I don't think she'd like that, Sir.

Neither do I, Mrs. Umney.

I appreciate you trying, but all good things come to an end.

Not necessarily.

You know, some good things should be preserved.

Which is why I'd like you to talk to this guy.

Doctor Leonard Glanville,

curator of the Museum of Domestic Science in Detroit.

I hope you don't mind,

but it's rare to find an item like this

in such well-maintained condition.

And with your agreement, he'd like to acquire her.

There's a museum of domestic science?

Americans have a museum for everything.

Well, you can see for yourself if you say yes.

She'll be preserved and put on display for all to admire,

which seems much more fitting than a scrap heap.

Indeed it does, Sir.

Oooohhh.

Gibber, gibber, gibber, gibber.

Cesspitt: I'm not sure they can hear you at the back.

Choir: ♪ Hail the Heaven born Prince of Peace ♪

♪ Hail the Son of Righteousness ♪

♪ Light and life to all he brings ♪

♪ Risen with healing in his wings ♪

♪ Mild he lays his glory by

♪ Born that we no more may die

♪ Born to raise the sons of earth ♪

Seasons greetings.

Henry Jarndyce, Attorney at Law.

Janice Reynolds Insolvency Litigation Specialists,

London office.

It was good of you to come all this way, Mr. Jarndyce.

There are a lot of documents for signature,

so it was thought best to send someone

to witness them in person.

And as it transpires a delightful interlude.

What a magnificent abode.

It's like stepping back in time.

You don't know the half of it.

Choir: ♪ Two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree ♪

♪ On the third day of Christmas my true love sent to me ♪

♪ Three French hens, two turtle doves ♪

♪ And a partridge in a pear tree ♪

Slow down.

♪ On the fourth day of Christmas my true love sent to me ♪

♪ Four calling birds, three French hens ♪

♪ Two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree ♪

There's been a mistake here. The Chase is our family home,

so, therefore exempt.

Ah, yes. An anomaly was spotted.

Mmm, mmm. Oh, this is excellent.

Imperial jasmine oolong from the...

Wuyi mountains if I'm correct.

Thank you. I don't really -- What kind of anomaly?

Jarndyce: The Chase was purchased with company funds

and only later transferred to the family,

rendering it liable to be seized by the company creditors.

Did you not receive notification from your legal team?

Hiram: The communications around here are rather erratic.

There must be something we can do.

- Some legal loophole. - I'm afraid not.

It's all there, signed and notarized.

Rather annoying, I expect.

Rather.

♪ Five gold rings!

Marvellous.

I was in an a cappella group at Corpus Christi.

"Light My Choir." Those were the days.

Anyway, I won't stay in your hair.

I can see you're hard at work

at a veritable explosion of Yuletide festivities.

♪ Five gold rings

Excellent.

It only remains for me to wish you a very merry Christmas.

Virginia: Where will we live?

Your grandparents' cottage in Maine.

They've said we can stay there

just till we get back on our feet.

I can't tell you how sorry I am.

I've let you all down.

It's okay, Dad.

It's not like I've any reason to stay.

Er, we do.

We're this close to finding the Canterville treasure.

So when do we leave?

We got till Christmas.

Lucy: Well, the ball's already paid for,

so if we're going, we'll go out with a bang

and we'll throw the best ball this county's ever seen.

Right, kids?

I suppose you've heard the news?

The Chase is up for sale, and the Americans are leaving.

Shame. Hiram Otis is a top chap.

It's not like they ever fitted in.

I doubt they'll be missed.

Where are you off to in such a hurry?

Riding.

I think Magnus needs the exercise.

Will it work on the ghost?

There's only one way of finding out.

How do we know he'll show up?

I have a plan.

You're leaving?

So it seems.

I'm sorry, I...

Don't be. It's not like I have any reason to stay.

What if you did?

Have a reason to stay.

That would depend on the reason.

I...

I'll sort this out.

Just promise me you won't go.

Please, say something.

I'm translating.

I promise.

I'll see you at the ball tomorrow night. We'll talk then.

Cesspitt: They are leaving.

I have frightened them away?

Not exactly.

This is for you.

What ist?

A ball.

On the night of the anniversary of my death.

Theme -- "Festive Spirit."

They are holding a celebration in mine honour.

This I must attend.

And risks running into the body-stealing hell childes?

Oh, then a discreet attendance.

I shalt mingle unrecogniséd in plain sight.

This -- This news is positively restorative.

I feel like a new ghost.

Hiram: Hey, Frank, can you come and grab a hold of this ladder?

Beautiful.

- Hi, Mom. - Hi, honey.

Mrs. Umney. This looks great. Need some help?

Oh, er, you can trim the eucalyptus.

I'll just go and fetch some secateurs.

Lucy: Good ride?

Great, thanks.

Lucy: Did you meet anyone?

Just Cecil.

- Why are you asking? - I dunno...

Did something happen?

I'm just looking forward to the ball.

Mm.

Cecil: I never meant it to happen...

or to hurt you.

You're a terrific girl.

Kind and beautiful.

Except perhaps just not for me.

I'm so sorry.

Lady Deborah is waiting in the car, Master Cecil.

Coming.

♪ Good King Wenceslas looked out on the Feast of Stephen ♪

♪ When the snow lay round about, deep and crisp and even ♪

Elvis: So sorry we were late. I'll, er, get ready.

Very festive. You have made an effort.

Well, you, too. Welcome. So glad you could make it.

Sorry to hear you're selling up.

Oh, thank you. I'm sorry we're going.

- I'll come find you. - Yes, such a shame you're going.

But at least you'll be able to attend the wedding.

Welcome. So glad you could make it.

Hiram: Ohh, you don't need to be on duty tonight, Mrs. Umney.

You're here to enjoy yourself.

Who is it you've come as?

Mrs. Danvers.

Rebecca is my favourite novel.

- Of course. - Masilda: Judith Anderson.

The only version Daphne du Maurier would have approved of,

in my humble opinion.

Humble or not, it is an opinion I admit to sharing.

Sorry.

You, er -- You dropped this.

Thank you.

Huh.

♪ It's the most wonderful time of the year ♪

♪ With the kids jingle belling and everyone telling you ♪

♪ Be of good cheer

Can I have a word? There's something I'd like

to run by you.

Okay, sure.

Elvis: ♪ Of the year

♪ It's the hap, happiest season of all ♪

♪ With those holiday meetings and gay happy greetings ♪

Sir Simon: Ohh, my liege.

Elvis: ♪ When friends come to call

Such an assemblage,

and all this in mine honour.

I'm almost humble.

Oh.

Your pardon, madam.

See, Cesspitt, my heart is soothéd, to see Canterville

once more filled with such genteel company.

Cesspitt: To your left.

Elvis: ♪ Long, long ago

Cheery bye, I'm off.

Perhaps I should peruse from a less public place.

Theo: Hey, boy. What's the matter with him?

He can smell Ghost.

He's here. The lady must have touched him.

♪ It's the most wonderful time of the year ♪

Let's go.

L-Listen, erm, I-I know what the score is on Cecil.

And I may be a dunce, but he is my best friend,

- and I know him, you see. - Ralph, I --

No, no, hear -- hear me out.

What I'm saying is

I don't mind being his leftovers.

Rather used to it, in fact.

And as for money, no object

as it would take an Act of Parliament

for my father to disinherit me.

Are you --

Is this a proposal?

I-I wouldn't tie you down.

Whack out an heir and a spare,

and then you're free to do your own thing.

And I think we'd rub along quite nicely.

So what -- what do you -- what do you say?

Ralph, can you take off the sunglasses?

Yeah, yeah, sure, 'course, yeah.

Ralph, you're a great guy.

You don't need to be anyone's leftovers,

because one day, you'll find a woman who deserves you.

Just promise me that before then,

you'll work on your proposal speech.

Right, roger that.

Still isn't a no, is it?

Singer: ♪ He just might like to know

♪ He's put a great big smile on somebody's face ♪

He must have gone up.

Everyone know what they're doing?

Go, go, go!

Singer: ♪ And you cover up your head

♪ Don't you lock the doors

♪ You know that sweet Santa Claus is on the way ♪

♪ Well, I wish it could be Christmas every day ♪

♪ When the kids start singing and the band begins to play ♪

Lady Deborah: You look wonderful, my dear.

Quite like you're going into battle.

The prize being Prince Charming?

But remember, dear, Joan of Arc was burnt.

And this isn't a fairy tale.

There will be no happy ever after for Cecil

if he makes an unsuitable match.

I will disinherit him, and all his grand plans

for Featherstonehaugh will come to nothing.

You would force him to marry a woman he doesn't love?

Love is such a lower class concept.

You imagine it shines so bright, it will conquer all.

Trust me, the lustre will fade when you're in social housing

wondering how to pay the electricity bill.

You're wrong.

Cecil doesn't care about any of that.

He loves me.

I'm sure he does.

The question is, without all this,

can he love himself?

Sometimes, my dear, the greatest act of love

is to let go.

Singer: ♪ Why don't you give your love

♪ For Christmas

Alone at last.

I've been trying to get away all evening.

Listen, I haven't had the chance to tell Moppy yet.

Good. Don't.

What?

Why?

It would be a mistake.

We were a mistake that got out of hand.

It's not too late to put it right.

I don't want to put it right.

I want you.

And lose Featherstonehaugh?

Cecil: You've been talking to my grandmother.

You mustn't listen to her.

I can't be the woman of your dreams

because I can't make your dreams come true.

There he is.

Now!

Ah!

What sorcery is this?

Keep going. It's working.

Theo: Help me!

Take that, Ghost.

We'll talk about this later.

Blow me over if it didn't work. How did you do it?

Theo: Adhesive vapour in the cylinder.

You don't say. Hmm.

It would have worked, too, if not for that darn rat.

He's probably gone to ground by now.

At least we know it works for next time.

There may not be a next time. You're leaving.

Yeah, you're right. This is our leaving party,

so let's go back in there, eat, dance and have a good time.

Hey, you coming?

Four winds and a cockerel. And look at the wind spinner.

- Theo: What about it? - It should be spinning,

especially in a wind like this.

It's pointing towards the chapel.

I'm sorry about my brothers, but if it's any consolation,

we're leaving soon.

Thou art grief stricken but canst console thyself.

Even if she is a Featherstonehaugh.

She didst speak the truth.

A scion of the House of Canterville

aligned with a penniless colonial,

past childbearing years is unthinkable.

But if be true and thy hearts lie entwined,

then naught can preventeth him taking thee as his mistress.

Thank you for the consolation, Sir Simon,

but I've had the Cantervilles up to here for one night.

Ralph: Virginia, look, hold up.

Ralph, please, not now. I have to go.

Please, no, hear me out.

I heard what you said, and I've given it a rethink.

- Now's not a good time -- - No, no, no, no, no, really.

I've rethought the whole thing. It's much improved.

Erm, I should probably have a ring for this,

but you can -- y-you can just pretend.

Erm, Virginia Otis,

you are a goddess amongst -- amongst all the other girls.

Would you do me the honour --

Desist from spewing forth thine unwanted attentions

upon this maiden,

Submit or thou die'est, knave.

Suggr uncur!

Thank you.

A trifle.

This Stiltons have always over exalted themselves,

There, you see?

Thou canst forget thy grief.

For interludes.

I fool myself.

The pain of lost love never healeth.

'Tis almost 500 years from the day my love died.

The pain doth grow sharper with every hour that passes.

Sir Simon,

did you have another wife?

Sir Simon: Ethelinda.

Virginia: You had a son?

I didst kill them both.

And I am curséd to the torture of limbo

for mine actions.

But that was nearly half a millennium,

and whatever your crime, the accused shall enjoy

the right to a speedy and public trial.

The 6th Amendment as enshrined in the US Constitution.

Your words are meaningless.

I guess -- I guess what I'm saying is,

if you still want me,

I'll plead your case before the Angel of Death.

Thou didst declare thyself unworthy.

I can't just sit back and watch a clear miscarriage of justice.

Every crime has mitigation.

And given you've shown remorse

and taking into account time spent on remand in limbo,

I'd say we had a chance.

Thou wouldst do this for me?

What are we looking for?

Patience: I have no idea.

Let's hope we know when we find it.

Sir Simon: The 4th dimension.

Fraught with danger and n'er for the fainthearted.

I'm not afraid.