Original subtitles

(cinematic melodic music)

(sweeping orchestral music)

♪ Where is the spot we will love till we die ♪

♪ Chiselbury, Chiselbury ♪

♪ There may we rot if we're telling a lie ♪

♪ Chiselbury, hear the cry ♪

♪ Gaudeamus, naught can harm us ♪

♪ Juvenentum, soundly sleep ♪

♪ In our nighties or pyjamas ♪

♪ Jim, his silent watch will keep ♪

♪ Omnia, omnia ♪

♪ Willy nilly here we are ♪

♪ Here we cram, dreary damn ♪

♪ Latin prep as nauseam ♪

♪ Floreat, Floreat ♪

♪ You're gonna be jolly well sorry at ♪

♪ Chiselbury, Chiselbury ♪

♪ Up the school ♪

(upbeat music)

(bell ringing)

(birds chirping)

- Come on, giddy up, come on.

(tongue clicking)

Giddy up! (tongue clicking)

Come on.

Giddy up! (tongue clicking)

Giddy up, come on! (tongue clicking)

Giddy up! (tongue clicking)

Push, you silly old fool, push!

What is the matter with you?

- I'm doing my best, headmaster.

I am trying.

- You're never anything else, Mr. Pettigrew.

Are you my assistant headmaster or are you not?

- Yes, of course, headmaster.

- Well in that case, assist!

- [Pettigrew] Yes.

- [Jim] Come on, shove!

- [Pettigrew] Yes.

- [Jim] It's not my fault the blasted thing's stopped!

If you weren't so mean and spent all your money on yourself,

we'd have been able to buy some,

be careful, look where you're going!

- [Pettigrew] Oh, look out Headmaster.

Good gracious me!

- You've ditched it!

- [Pettigrew] Oh, headmaster, are you all right?

- 'Course I'm, ow! (water splashes)

- Headmaster, oh, good gracious!

- Now look what you've done!

- Oh, come here.

- Get me out of here.

(birds chirping) (water splashing)

Pull me up the bank.

You blithering idiot!

Now, Mr. Pettigrew, you and I, Mr. Pettigrew

are going to walk all the way to school, Mr. Pettigrew,

unless something happens and-- ♪ There may we rot ♪

The school buses!

♪ Chiselbury, hear the cry ♪

♪ Gaudeamus, naught can harm us ♪

♪ Juvenentum, soundly sleep ♪

♪ In our nighties or pyjamas ♪

♪ Jim, his silent watch will keep ♪

(water splashing)

All right, you dogs.

Your headmaster can wait!

Surrounded by incompetence.

Come on!

Get the luggage, wait a minute.

- Oh!

- There's a car coming!

Stop!

Stop! Stop!

Ah Wendover, well met.

- Hello sir, are you on your way to school, sir?

- Yes, but we've had a--

- I'm afraid you're all wet sir.

Drive on, Smithers.

See you there, sir.

(car engine roars)

- I shalln't forget that boy Wendover, in a hurry.

Come on.

Let's get the luggage.

We've got a long way to walk now.

- But headmaster, what about the car?

- What about the car?

- I'm sorry I ever allowed you to lend me the blasted thing!

♪ Omnia, omnia ♪

♪ Willy nilly here we are ♪

♪ Here we cram, dreary damn ♪

♪ Latin prep ad nauseam ♪

♪ Floreat, Floreat ♪

♪ You're gonna be jolly well sorry at ♪

♪ Chiselbury, Chiselbury ♪

♪ Up the school ♪

(egg splatters)

38. (whips)

39. (whips)

40. (whips)

41. (whips)

42. (whips)

43. (whips)

- Boys, boys!

- 45. (whips)

46. (whips)

47. (whips)

48. (whips)

49. (whips)

and the last one, backhand, 50!

Ah, the old arm hasn't lost its cunning.

In fact, I get better.

- Oh, headmaster.

- Oh, Miss Carlini.

- I've checked the medical supplies,

but there's nothing except a few broken thermometers

and an empty bottle of syrup of figs.

- Well, lets not discuss that here.

Let's go into that later, shall we, just you and I?

- Master, is that the new matron?

- Mm.

- Isn't she rather, uh--

- She's very, er.

Don't worry Mr. Pettigrew, she's only here for experience.

- But where did you?

- I thought I told you I had my holiday

on the Italian Riveria.

- Oh, but do you think she's quite--

- I know jolly well she isn't.

It's time for me to see the new boys, isn't it?

- Yes, headmaster.

- How many new ticks are there this term?

- Only three, I'm afraid.

- But we had 67 applications.

- 64 of the parents changed their mind

when you sent them details of the school.

- Oh well rather quality then quantity.

Wheel 'em in, Mr. Pettigrew, wheel 'em in.

(lighthearted music)

- Come in boys, the headmaster will see you now.

Caps off.

(lighthearted whistling music)

Come along boys, don't be shy.

Come to the desk.

- Welcome to Chiselbury.

Do not be afraid of me boys.

I may look awe-inspiring but beneath

this forbidding exterior, there beats a heart of a lamb.

(whip snaps)

Remove that fly will you lad.

Into the basket.

Basket!

Now what should you know about this school?

A phrase to remember is the latin one,

mens sana, corpore sanum.

Healthy mind, healthy body.

We give you the choice, right, Mr. Pettigrew?

- Well actually, I would say--

- You would say nothing.

Jim does the oratory.

Now what are your names?

- Wills, sir. - Wills?

- Miller, sir. - Miller.

- Watney, sir. - Watney!

Ah ha! That sounds like the sort of lad we want here.

Tell me, what does your father do?

The right answer to this question

could make you a prefect overnight.

- He's a draper, sir.

- Through the ranks for you, my boy.

Now I hope this is going to be a happy relationship.

I see myself and my boys as, well, as a garden.

The boys are the flowers.

Young, tender, fragile shoots, and me?

I like to think of myself as the fertiliser.

- I'm sure that's how we all think of you, headmaster.

- All right boys, that's all.

I may run across you once or twice before you leave here,

but in case I don't, good luck in your future careers.

- Headmaster, I think we want to hear

the birds and the bees.

- Not now.

Cut along!

- Mr. Pettigrew, I thought you always spent your holidays

with your aged mother?

- I do.

- Then what do you want to hear

about the birds and the bees for?

- Oh, not me, headmaster, them.

- Oh, why didn't you remind me?

- I tried.

In any case, with them, it would only be revision.

With you, it will be news.

What's next?

- Tuck, pocket money and health card inspection,

Lower Third.

- Lower Third, eh?

Well, we'd better clear the decks.

Open up my secret confiscation cupboard.

(door creaks)

Now then, you take the collecting basket

and I'll have the cane with the steel core.

Come on.

(bell rings)

Hey, hey, whose dog is this?

- Mine sir.

- What's your name, lad?

- Baskerville, sir.

- Don't you know boy that pets are not allowed on school--

(dog barking)

Baskerville! Take him away, boy.

Ah Price.

Enjoy your holidays?

- Yes, thank you, sir.

- Who's this?

- My young brother, sir.

He came last term.

- Oh, yes of course.

Half Price.

Aren't you Lower Third?

- Yes, sir.

- Then why aren't you in your dormitory, boy?

I'm just coming up to inspect you

for pocket money and health cards.

Cut along!

(pattering footsteps)

- [Both] Good morning, boys. - [Boys] Good morning, sirs.

- Now, line up, at the end of your beds.

All glad to be back at school?

- Ask a silly question and you get a silly answer.

So it's the Lower Third, eh?

Britain's answer to the H-Bomb.

Germ Warfare, led by the greatest freedom fighter

of them all, Fidel Castro Grivas Wendover.

No lifts given.

I'm ready for you, Wendover.

Let battle commence.

Watch it!

Watch it!

Right now, health cards at the ready!

Let's see what unfortunate infectious diseases

have been exposed to you during the holidays.

Clean bill, clean bill, clean bill.

Occasional earache eh?

Pretty painful in your case, Dumbo?

Clean bill.

What's this you've been suffering from?

No, sir, that's where I come from, Bally-Kelly.

- Oh, Bally-Kelly.

Clean bill!

- Excuse me sir, what happens if a boy's been exposed

to any infectious diseases?

- You should know by now, Crombie.

Straight home on the first train.

I hereby certify that during the holidays,

my son Leslie contracted Hydrophobia, Black Death,

Beri-Beri and Pelmanism in the Tropicals.

Signed, his dad.

How are you feeling now, Crombie?

- Pretty rocky, sir,

but I think I can make it to the station.

- Oh you do, do you?

Crombie?

- Sir?

- It won't be the black death but the black and blue death

and it will be Beri-Beri painful, bend over!

- Sir, I think I gave you the wrong card!

- Clean bill.

What a relief, Mr. Pettigrew, isn't it?

- Oh, I should say so.

- Clean bill, clean bill.

Clean bill, clean bill.

Tuck and currency examination.

Start with you Mollins.

Have you read this before?

- Yes, sir.

- Have you anything to declare?

- No, sir. Do you want to look sir?

- Since you asked me, no.

There must be more to this than meets the eye.

Oh, that's an interesting looking knot, is it not?

Bless my soul.

I haven't come across one of those since 1947.

- I've been framed, sir.

I never knew it was there.

- How much currency?

- Two pounds, sir.

- The fine is two pounds.

- But sir, that's my pocket money.

Couldn't I have a thousand lines?

- What a splendid idea.

Take a thousand lines as well.

Make a note of that, Mr. Pettigrew.

A ha!

You look very pleased with yourself, Wendover.

- Yes, sir.

- The gay abandon of a clear conscience?

- Exactly sir, you can't whack it.

- I can whack anything.

Open up.

- Please sir, take my word for it.

You won't find anything in there that you like.

- Open up.

Please sir, for your sake, I beg of you.

- Open up!

- All right sir.

- Could this be the double bluff?

Don't open it, then he knows I will.

(snaps) (laughs)

Snap!

Did you honestly think I was born yesterday, Wendover?

- Yes, sir, I mean, no sir.

- And thank you very much for warning me.

(Jim gasps)

(kids laugh)

- Oh, headmaster! - Get it off, get it off!

- Keep still, headmaster.

- Get it off!

(students laughing)

Proper little rodent operator aren't you, Wendover?

All right, I was born yesterday

but you, my friend will wish you've never been born at all!

(snaps) (gasps)

(kids laughing) - Oh, headmaster, not again!

- But sir, it was only a beginning of term joke.

- It will have a sore ending, boy.

Make a note of the punishment, Pettigrew.

Six of the best for attempting to mutilate the headmaster.

My drinking hand too,

and six more for evading Customs Duty.

A total of 15 whacks.

- Oh no, sir.

Six and six are 12.

- Add another six for answering back.

- But sir--

- And a further six for persistent answering back.

Anything more to say?

Very well, add another six for dumb insolence.

That should be a total of 42.

Well my lad, as you're a regular customer,

I'm prepared to make it up to the round 50

with no extra charge.

Bend over, Wendover.

(knocking)

- Professor Edwards.

Professor Edwards!

- Hello, sir.

- Who is this boy?

- I thought you might have recognised the view,

Bishop Wendover.

- Daddy!

- Peregrin!

What is going on?

- Well, I'm practising for my gymnastic display.

- Professor Edwards.

You'll do yourself a harm.

- Oh, no, no, no.

- Are you sure you weren't going to flog him?

- Flog him?

I'd flog him to the first bidder.

Why would I strike your son, Bishop,

a boy I'm grooming for stardom.

The pick of the pops.

I would rather lose my right hand.

Why don't you run along, sonny boy

and rejoin your playmates?

Nice Mr. Pettigrew will take you up to your dormi.

- Headmaster, I've brought the new chairman of

the Board of Governors along.

- I had no idea we had a new Chairman.

- Oh indeed we have.

The new chairman has very decided views on education.

- Oh blimey.

- Insisted on having a look round the school

before meeting you.

Headmaster, may I introduce the new Chairman

of the Chiselbury Board of Governors?

- Chairman? Then why is he dressed up as a woman?

- He is.

I mean, she is a woman.

Lady Emily Gore Willoughby.

- I wish to be left alone with the headmaster.

- Oh come, come, dear lady, we've only just met.

- I understand, I'll have a look at the chapel.

- Pray for me, Bishop.

- Professor Edwards, the scholastic standard here,

the sports record, the conduct of the boys

is all uniformly appalling.

The examination results are the worst I've ever seen.

- Madam, do I detect a tiny note of criticism?

- No, you're listening to an ultimatum.

- If there is not a vast improvement in a very short time,

you will be asked to resign at the end of this term.

- So it's threats, is it?

Well, Madam, I think you'll find that I don't frighten

all that easy.

If you want to sack me, go ahead and sack me, see if I care.

There's plenty of things

a man of my qualifications can do.

I can, I can..

Please don't sack me!

What will I do?

I only know headmastering.

I'm too old to start working for a living.

- I can only assure you that unless a miracle occurs,

you leave in 12 weeks time.

- A miracle?

You mean a fatality on the Board of Governors?

- I mean the number of boys made up.

Better examination results.

Resurgence in the field of sport.

Something, anything.

- Well, of course, I've got sweeping plans.

- What plans?

- Well they're not completely formulated at the moment,

I need time to mince them into words.

- How much time?

- How much time have you got?

A year, a month?

Fortnight, a week?

Tomorrow?

- Tomorrow, very well, I'll be here tomorrow

and your plans had better be good.

(door slams)

- Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow.

(knocking) Go away!

- What is it headmaster?

- Dash, bother, blast, rotten, beastly, smelly.

- Good news?

- Good news.

The new Charwoman of the Board of Governors has been here.

Unless I show some concrete gee-up in the school affairs

this term, it's goodbye mister, you've had your chips.

- Oh no, Headmaster, that mustn't be.

- It is be.

She's coming here tomorrow to see what plans I haven't got.

Tomorrow!

You've better round up all the martyrs for a special meeting

in the common room this evening,

as soon as I've seen the boys to bed.

(boys crying)

(sobbing)

What's this?

Miller, Wills, Watney, reveal yourselves.

(boys sobbing)

Water works?

Blubbing in bed is not allowed at Chiselbury.

It shrinks the pillowcases.

See if these will cheer you up.

Old English gobstoppers.

Suck no further than the purple tonight,

then go to sleep and dream your childish dreams

of bloodshed and massacre.

Goodnight chaps.

- [Boys] Goodnight, sir.

- I say, that chap Wendover was right.

- He said Jim was a pushover for a good blub.

- I bet we'd have got them anyway.

- Correct, Mr. Watney.

Wendover.

(suspenseful music)

Good night boys.

- Goodnight, sir.

- Where are they?

- They didn't come back sir.

I'm the only one left in this dorm, sir.

- Empty saddles in the old corral eh?

- Poor old, half Price.

- It feels a bit googly all alone sir.

- I bet it does.

Here, hop out of bed and come with me.

- Oh, thank you, sir.

- We'll find you a berth next door.

- Oh thank you sir.

- I know what solitary confinement is like.

- Have you been to prison then, sir?

- Yeah, during the war.

- Stalag six, sir?

- No, Jankers one.

- Oh.

(upbeat music)

- We'll find a bed for you in here with the Lower Third.

Lower Third, you go in first

but wait til I give you a signal.

- Yes, sir.

(upbeat music)

(pots clanking)

(kids laughing)

- Stand up, the boy responsible for that little lark.

- Me sir.

- I might have guessed it, Wendover.

So you admit it, eh?

- Yes, sir, very sorry sir. It wasn't meant for you, sir.

- May I ask for whom it was meant?

- Theoiks from the Upper Fourth if they tried a raid, sir.

- But you knew I was on my rounds.

- Yes sir, but you should've used the other door, sir.

- Do you recall what happened last term

when I used the other door?

I still got the scars.

- Yes, sir, that's why we put it on that one this time, sir.

We didn't want it to happen again.

- How very considerate of you.

Wendover, this term is only one day old

and I'm already conscious of something.

- What's that please sir?

- This joint ain't big enough for you and me both.

Report to my study at 9.30 tomorrow morning for a whacking.

- But sir, you can't whack a man just

because you came through the wrong door.

- Point taken, Wendover.

I shall not whack you for that.

- Thank you sir.

- But I shall whack you for telling me the new boys

that I'm a pushover for a good blub!

- The head's career is in the balance, gentlemen.

The new Chairman of the Board of Governors is after him.

You see, it's a woman. - Well, pay the woman off.

Same as we did with that barmaid.

- No, no, no, the Chairman is a woman.

Well, we mustn't lose our head.

I mean, unless we can think of some immediate method

of improving the school,

we shall lose our beloved headmaster.

Well, some of you might at least look upset.

I daresay, Professor Edwards may not always be orthodox

in his method but to his staff, he has always been

the very soul of courtesy and consideration.

- Out of my chair, Baldy.

Well come on, come on.

Come on gentlemen, sit down, sit down.

Don't stand about like a lot of spare parts.

Well, gentlemen, here it is.

I have thought of the only way to put Chiselbury School

back on the map.

In two words, pub-licity.

Now here's what we do.

We get a team of Chiselbury Boys

on to one of those Round Britain Quiz programmes.

Well?

- What sort of questions do they ask in these quizzes?

- Oh just ordinary elementary general knowledge questions.

What was the date of the Battle of Waterloo,

what's five times 15?

- What! (snoring)

What's happening?

What?

- It's a quiz for the boys.

What's five times 15?

- What?

- Five times 15.

Go to sleep you silly old fool.

- Oh, I see.

- Well now, we must only enter the very cream

of our scholastic talent.

Now have you got your end of term exam markings with you?

- Good, now sing out the names of all boys

who got more than 80 out of 100.

(papers rustling)

All right, any boy who got more than 50 out of 100.

(papers rustling)

Well, any boy who got double figures?

(papers rustling)

So that's it, is it?

Bang goes the quiz idea and bang goes my job.

Thanks to your bungling inefficiency.

My blood is on your hands.

- It's nothing to do with me, sir.

- How typical of you to try and crawl out of it.

I never did like the look of your face.

- But you've never seen it before sir.

I wasn't here last term.

- Why not?

Where were you in our hour of need?

- Headmaster, Mr. Colbourne has only just arrived.

He's a new master.

- That's no excuse.

I shall be watching you.

Well, where are all these brilliant suggestions?

- If only we could get some of the young aristocracy

to come to Chiselbury, headmaster.

I'm sure that would impress Lady Gore Willoughby

more then anything.

- Yeah, it's a pity the prince couldn't come here.

- Not a chance, I wrote to Buckingham Palace

and they never even bothered to reply.

- No sir, I mean Prince Hassid Ali of Giwak.

- What, the son of that oil merchant?

- Yes, Prince Hasid Ali, heir to the throne of oil-rich,

trouble racked Giwak, will arrive in London shortly

and go to a British Public School.

Owing to the disturbed politcal situation in his country,

he will use an assumed name and the school chosen

will remain a closely guarded secret.

- Vastly interesting, thank you, Mr. Hamley,

you read beautifully.

Tell me, if you were King of this Giwak,

would you send your son to Chiselbury?

- Good lord, no sir.

(laughs)

- Well then why waste my time?!

Why wouldn't you send him?

- Well, I don't suppose he's ever heard of the place, sir.

- Lame, Mr. Hamley, and smacking of disloyalty.

Well hasn't anybody got any bright ideas?

- I've got it, Headmaster, the answer.

- Well, come on, come on.

- 75. - Eh?

- You asked me what five times 15 is, 75.

Here are my workings.

- Thank you Mr. Dinwiddie.

10 out of 10.

He'll have to go, you know.

We'll have to get another PT instructor.

Well gentlemen, thank you for nothing.

Goodnight and take Rip Van Winkle with you.

- Come on.

(door slams)

- You'll find some way out, headmaster.

Your guardian angel won't let you down, you'll see.

- I hope not.

Do your best, Dr. Crippen.

- I'll tell you one thing, headmaster,

if they sack you, they'll have to sack me too.

If you go, I go.

- Petters, Oliver.

Dim, you may be but you should have a little lion

stamped right there.

You're a good egg.

(bell ringing) (students chattering)

What is all this noise?

Quiet!

How many times did I tell you boys about all this shouting

and arguing in the corridors?

Sounds like the House of Commons.

And caps are not worn indoors, Storrishot,

and take that smile off your face.

I'll tell you when I've said something funny.

Sid, what are you doing here?

- A matter of 200 quid, owing from Kempton Park.

- Not in front of the boys, come in the study, quick.

- Son, you wait here.

- Have you gone raving mad?

I can't afford to be seen talking to a common bookmaker.

Why do you think I place all my bets under

the name of Benjamin Disraeli?

- Common bookmaker I may be but you owe me

an uncommon 200 quid.

- I went you a cheque for the full amount.

- Yes, signed Benjamin Disraeli.

Now listen to me, Edwards.

If I don't get a full settlement,

I'm having a word with your Board of Governors.

- Is this your much vaunted credit system?

Look Sid, I haven't got 200 quid.

- I didn't think you had.

That's why I'm willing to take a quid pro quo.

- I haven't even got a quid.

- That's latin, it means you scratch my back

and I'll scratch yours.

- What a repulsive thought.

- Yeah, that's where the pro quo comes in.

I'm experiencing a great deal of difficulty in finding

a school for my boy, Cecil.

Him what's outside.

I want you to take him.

- Me? Why?

- 'Cause no one else'll take him.

Not since they kicked him out of the approved school.

- The what school?

I'm not having any old lags here.

I'm in enough trouble already.

- Listen mate, there was another schoolmaster tried

welshing on his debts.

One quiet word to the school governors,

he was on the milk train next morning.

- Milk, ugh.

- Well, Professor Edwards?

- Oh, Sidney, I shan't keep you a moment.

Urgent business, prospective mother, parent.

Just wait outside a second.

I'm just placing an order with our milkman.

We get through so much yoghourt here.

Lady Gore Willoughby, what a pleasant surprise.

- Surprise? But you asked me to come today to hear

the details of your plans.

- Plans?

- For the future of the school.

- The future of the school.

- Professor Edwards, stop repeating what I say.

I want to hear and approve of those plans

or receive your resignation.

(gasps)

- There's that word again.

Oh well, I suppose this is the moment of truth.

The end of the road.

No more to tread these ancient cloisters,

no more to touch these aged old walls

with all their flagrant memories.

(upbeat music)

- Oh!

- Cut off from all things dear.

Have gown, will travel.

- Are you implying that you have no plans?

No, no, no, no.

I was only speaking hypertheatrically.

Lady Gore Willoughby, if I told you I was in love with you,

I supposed you wouldn't believe it would you?

- Certainly not! - Well I can drop that then.

- Professor Edwards, how old do you think I am?

- Oh, I've seen them older. - Well I can assure you,

you're not my idea of a Prince Charming.

- That's it, the prince.

Thank you, Dr. Crippen.

- What are you muttering about this time?

- You wanted to hear my plans, well here's the secret.

He is coming to Chiselbury.

- Who is?

- Prince Hassid of Giwak.

- I don't believe it.

- Not under his own name of course, naturally, incognito.

While he's here, he'll be known as Cecil Biggs,

a simple bookie's son.

- It's impossible. If it were true, the Board of Governors

would have been notified.

- Oh no, they wouldn't.

Foreign office orders.

Only I am supposed to know.

But it will spread around in time.

You and I can see to that.

- But--

- Then parents will be queuing up to send their boys

here, while we can charge key money, we can put the fees up.

Chiselbury will become so popular that Eton and Harrow

will be advertising on ITV.

(laughs) And then who knows, if we do it well,

it may be Dame Lady Gore Willoughby.

Sir James Edwards.

(laughs)

The possibilities are endless.

Keep it under your hat.

One false move and they may take the little sheikh away.

I'm relying on you, Emily.

- This is such wonderful news,

why didn't you tell me before?

- I hadn't thought of it, who'd have thought it?

(chuckles)

Now run along, I've got to ring the FO.

- Goodbye. - Goodbye.

Sid.

- Look, what's going on?

Is Cecil in or isn't he?

- He's halfway in.

Listen, you ever heard of Prince Hassid of Giwak?

- Who's the trainer?

- He's not a horse you ignoramus.

He's middle east postentate.

Now listen, if we can make everybody believe that Cecil

is Prince Hassid under an assumed name, then he's in.

- Have you gone potty?

- If you and I use our loaves, we can get away with this.

- Dad, I'm bored.

I'm absolutely bored.

- It's all right, Cecil, darling.

You're coming to Chiselbury.

- I don't want to, Dad.

I don't like him.

- Me?

Why should any child dislike me, the schoolboy's friend?

- I heard the boys talking, dad.

He's always caning them.

- Oh vile, calumny, I never raise a hand to my boys,

except in self defence.

What is it Wendover?

- 9.30, sir, I've come for my whacks.

- There you see.

- He's talking about his modelling wax.

He's making a little figurine of a baa-lamb,

aren't you lad?

- First I've heard--

- Of course he is, yes come along lad, I'll help you.

I'll pose for you.

Sid, see if you can make this thing work.

- I don't want to come here, dad.

- I'm about brassed off with you.

There's not a headmaster in the country who will take you

and when I find an old twister who will,

you say, I don't wanna. - But dad, he'll bash me.

- No, he won't and I'll tell you for why.

'Cause everybody's going to think you're an eastern prince.

Now he'd never dare to bash an eastern prince would he?

- How are you going to make them think that, dad?

- You leave it to Edwards

and your old dad's got an idea or two of his own as well.

(laughs)

- Now, pay attention boys.

I want you to listen to the beauty of the poet's cadences.

A garden is a lovesome thing, god wot,

fringed plot, ferned grot--

- That's your lot.

(students laugh)

Thank you Mr. Pettigrew.

Don't bother to stand up.

I see you haven't.

Some of you boys in the Lower Third have the manners

of a monkey house.

As a matter of fact, I've met monkeys with better manners.

It occurs to me sometimes when I think this thing over,

there isn't a boy here who really--

- Ow!

Oh my leg!

- Oh I do apologise, Wendover.

Did I accidentally fracture your fibia?

Scream your blooming head off lad!

Nobody can her you out here in the old hut.

(laughs) I'm so sorry to interrupt you, Mr. Pettigrew.

I have something of very important import to impart.

Now can anybody tell me anything about this map?

- Please sir.

- Yes, Wendover.

- It's upside down, sir.

(students laugh)

- He's right, you know.

Still it makes no never mind 'cause the whole blooming

thing is in Arabic and none of us can read that can we?

Now this is the Middle East.

So called because it comes plonk

between the East East and the West East.

Now here, hang on.

Here is Giwak, a small but oily state.

I'll spell that word for you.

Giwak, G-I-W-A-K and I've got eyes in the back of my head!

That'll teach you to whisper while my back is turned.

Come here, boy.

Mollins!

You will write out 5000 times,

I must not natter while Sir is doing his patter.

Go.

Now then, Giwak is an independent State controlled

by a tripartite pact between Britain, Russia

and the little old USA.

What does tripartite mean?

- Huh?

- Any boy?

Meaning of the word tripartite?

And the first boy who says three parts drunk gets flogged.

Nobody know?

Huh! Ignorant shower!

- Please sir, what does it mean?

- Well it means, er, tripartite,

well we all know what tripartite means.

Don't just stand there like a lemon, Mr. Pettigrew.

Tell him what tripartite means.

- Well it means er, a three handed agreement.

- Oh does it?

Well anyway, the Crown Prince of Giwak,

Price Hallid Asi is coming to be educated

at a certain school in this country.

I'm not permitted to divulge the name of the school

but it begins with CH and it's not Charterhouse or Cheam.

(students chattering)

Quiet, quiet.

Now while he's studying in Chiselbury, in England,

ignore that slip, he'll be under an assumed name.

So if a new boy should arrive here today,

calling himself Cecil Biggs,

I don't want you to ask him any questions.

Now, in your letters home next Sunday,

you must make no mention of this exciting news

about Prince Hassid of Giwak to anyone at all.

Either the parents or guardians, aunts or uncles,

members of parliament,

or publicans, or any other influential person,

who might pass it on to the press.

I am not going to threaten you about this,

I'm merely going to rely on your good sense, and honour.

- Headmaster.

- What is it, Mr. Pettigrew?

- I think I had rather a brilliant flash of deduction.

- Yeah?

- Cecil Biggs is the P-R-I-N-C-E.

- Shh!

You shrewd old fox.

I knew I couldn't hoodwink you.

- Well I may look a fool headmaster but--

- No buts about it.

Now remember, Cecil Biggs is an ordinary unassuming new boy

slipping quietly in--

(trumpet horns)

Crombie, go and tell that boy outside to stop

blowing his trumpet.

(elephant trumpets)

(upbeat music) (elephant trumpets)

- It's not a boy trumpeting sir, it's an elephant!

- Don't be impertinent, boy.

Mr. Pettigrew, deal with the matter.

As I was saying, Cecil Biggs is an ordinary unassuming

new boy slipping quietly in--

- Headmaster, it is an elephant.

(upbeat music)

There's a boy on top of it.

It's coming this way.

(elephant trumpets)

Class, look out!

(shouting)

- Come back, you fools.

Come back!

There's no elephant at Chiselbury!

(elephant trumpets)

Whoa, whoa, whoa, go back!

(walls crashing)

(elephant trumpets)

So it's you!

Well, Sabu, what's the big idea?

- Dad said you wanted people to believe I was a prince

and he knew some chaps in the circus so--

- Hey!

You seen an elephant pass this way?

- Why Sid, you-- (gasps)

- Cor blimey.

Hey, Jim, Jim Edwards!

Jim!

- Headmaster, do try and take a sip of this.

(spitting)

- Water, you trying to poison me?

Brandy!

- Brandy!

- Don't watch her, get on with it.

Force it between my teeth.

Force it.

- Oh headmaster, I shouldn't drink too much of it.

Lady Gore Willoughby is coming.

- Lady Gore Willoughby?

Why?

- Well you see, I thought it my duty to inform her

that His Royal Highness had arrived.

She's coming to welcome him.

- Oh, you would.

She mustn't see him.

He's not alone.

Where is the little, highness?

- He's resting in the new boys' dorm.

He's a bright lad, headmaster.

Though not at all my idea of a royal prince.

- Well, you're probably not his idea of

an assistant headmaster, any more than you are mine.

- Headmaster, but tell me, why does he speak

with such a marked cockney accent?

- Well probably 'cause he had a marked cockney nanny.

I mean, it's all the fashion in the Far East,

you heard of Anna and the King of Siam.

Well, this is probably Flossie and the Prince of Giwak.

- Oh, he's an interesting boy, headmaster.

Do you know, he told me that the laws of the Berber religion

forbid any man to raise a finger against a royal personage?

- What?

- He said that if any man did cause him hurt,

he would have to perform an eastern custom

known as blowing the gaff.

He said you'd understand what he meant by that.

- I do yeah.

Trouble.

- Now do you new ticks want to be on my side?

- What side, when?

- Always.

- [All] Yes.

- Right then, I'll make you all sheiks

and you'll have thousands of oil wells

and all be millionaires.

- Ooh!

- What do you have to do?

- You give me a tenner a week starting now.

- Gosh, it's worth it.

Millionaires.

- Are we sheiks now?

- Yeah, but I'll unsheik you ticks in half-a-tick

if you take anybody else's side or grass on me.

- Is your majesty ready to receive an audience?

- Who with?

- The reception committee of the Lower Third.

- And what do you want?

- You've got to be treated like an ordinary new boy,

haven't you?

- Why?

- 'Cause this is a democracy and 'cause you're a new tick.

- I'm a royal new tick and don't you forget it.

- Oh, we haven't forgotten it.

As well as the exam, we're going to anoint you.

- What exam?

- Oh, it's horrible!

- You stand on your head naked!

- And sing a song.

- And they pinch you!

- And if you fall down--

- Pipe down, ticks.

Come this way please your majesty.

- Come and get me.

- Oh no this is voluntary.

But you've got to come.

- First bloke that touches me gets a black eye.

- Oh you need cooling down.

(whistles)

You know, I think we'll anoint you first.

- None of you blokes are going to anoint me.

- I say, don't be a twerp.

We had to do it when we were new boys.

- [All] Yes!

- Well I don't.

- Gentlemen, please escort his highness--

(shouting)

- I'm a prince!

I'm a prince!

- [Wendover] To the showers, boys!

(boys shouting)

- I'm a prince!

I'm a prince!

- Careful with him boys.

Remember, he's a prince!

(boys shouting)

- Boys, stop it, stop it at once, do you hear what I say?

- As you said Professor, news is sure to get about

and it'll do the school no end of good.

- I've already seen to that.

You can rest assured his highness absolutely loves it here.

- Oh good gracious me!

What's that?

(shouting)

- Boys!

- They tried to drown me! Tell them I'm a prince.

- Oh, your highness!

- Back into your kennels, you currs, at the double!

- I've told them I'm not to be bashed about by no one,

it's against my religion!

- Now, now, now, now, now!

It's all over.

There'll be no repetition, this is disgraceful.

Come along with me now.

- Now then you little thugs!

- Please sir, permission to speak sir?

- Yes, Wendover, for this will be your last request.

- It was only the new ticks exam, sir.

You allow that.

- And he refused to cooperate sir!

(boys chattering)

- Silence!

As from this moment, whatever the customs and traditions

of the school and no matter what the provocation,

you will leave that little Berber alone!

- Professor Edwards.

- Oh, Lady Gore Willoughby.

- This is a most inauspicious beginning.

If your mishandling should cause the prince to leave--

- Oh, he'll stay,

I've got everything under complete control.

- I hope the guilty parties will be properly dealt with.

- From top to bottom, everyone who set foot in that shower,

the whole blooming shower.

(gasps)

- You had better start now, professor.

- Thank you, Mr. Pettigrew.

- Ooh, ooh!

Headmaster!

Ooh, ooh!

(groans)

- Well, how's it going?

How many letters home have you censored?

- Nearly all of them, headmaster.

And what do you think?

Not one of the little chaps has let us down.

- Just as I thought!

What did they say?

- Nothing, not one boy has mentioned the prince.

- Honourable little brutes!

- What?

- They choose this of all times to obey me.

- I don't understand you headmaster.

I thought you didn't want them to mention the prince.

- You never understand anything, do you?

It took me five years to teach you to play snap.

What is the use of having a prince in the school if we don't

spread it around?

Where's your fountain pen?

- It's over here, headmaster.

- Right, now then, is it full?

- Yes, I've just filled it.

- Good, then reopen all the letters and add a

P.S. mentioning the prince.

- Forge?

No headmaster, it's dishonest, I couldn't live with myself.

- Who you live with it your affair.

Come on, get cracking.

- But there are 253 headmaster, it'll take me ages.

- You can always make yourself a cup of tea, can you not?

Come on, it's for the old school.

Forge ahead, forge ahead!

- Brothers! We're gathered here to inaugment the first

All Boys Trade Union to be known as

the Royal Chiselbury Protection Society.

Now membership is voluntary

but I pity any bloke who don't join.

(boys cheering)

- Now the Union fees will cost you a tenner per week

per head in advance, no credit.

- What do we get out of it?

- You get an organisation that will fight

the exploitation of the bosses.

- Strange words coming from a prince.

- That's a fat lot you know, gig lamps.

(boys laugh) - Who's going to be leader?

- Well I am of course.

- You're a new tick, you couldn't lead the Wolf Cubs.

- That's a fat lot you know.

Look, I got old Jim where I want him.

He can't whack me and he can't expel me

so I can do what I like with him.

- Such as?

- Such as getting you off work,

you ain't entitled to do.

Like building the stage for Founder's Day.

Now come on, I'll show you.

(bells ringing)

It's a lovely Sunday for working.

- Tote that plank, lift that bale.

Hurry up, Wendover, we've got no time to lose.

(boys laughing)

Well, put a jerk in it.

- I don't know what's come over you. Oh!

Wendover come back here.

Wendover!

Wendover, what the blazes do you think you are?

A helicopter?

Put that plank in it's proper place

or I'll shatter it over your skull.

- It isn't fair, sir.

- What isn't fair?

- Why should we be made to sweat like this

and on a Sunday?

- What's wrong with carrying a few boards about?

After all, this is a boarding school.

(laughs)

Boarding school.

Laugh! Your headmaster is being jovial with you!

- It's still not fair, sir.

Why aren't that lot working?

- I have excused them all duties.

- On what grounds, please sir?

- On the grounds that it's no perishing business of yours.

I can't understand what's come over you, Wendover.

A loyal lad like you should be proud to do

voluntary work for Founders Day.

- There's nothing voluntary about this work, sir.

We were press-ganged into it.

- Is that so?

Were you really?

Tut, tut, and again tut.

Well, this is indeed a parlous state of affairs.

I shall have no boy here working against his will.

(whistle blowing)

Gather round, gentlemen please, will you?

Now then, my friends.

An allegation has been made that some of you

have been forced to do this work.

- We have! (boys chattering)

- This is a disgraceful state of affairs.

Let me assure you that no boy need lift a finger

unless he really wants to.

(boys cheering)

Lets have a show of hands, shall we?

Hands up any boy who would like to stop work,

have the day off and go without supper

for the rest of term?

(crowd groans)

Thank you gentlemen, I knew I could count on

your continued good will and loyalty.

Carry on chaps, come on, come on.

That wall must be built.

- Thanks Wenders, you're a great help these days.

- [All] Yeah.

(birds chirping)

- You see what I mean? Now, do you want to join my society?

- Society.

- What's next on the programme boss?

- Well, Jim's confiscated your pocket money

and locked your private belongings, hasn't he?

- I'll say, got 'em stowed away in his safe.

- How'd you like them all back again eh?

- [All] Yes! - He'd never give that up.

- Do you wanna bet?

And if I get them all back,

membership goes up to a bob week, right?

- [All] Right!

- Right, now buzz off.

(sinister music)

(lighthearted music)

(back cracking)

- Never should have tried that.

Matron?

Your headmaster speaking.

Do you think you could slip up to my bedroom?

I'd like a little massage.

Well really?

Mind like a censor.

These continentals, really.

(gentle music)

- Headmaster!

Oh!

I beg your pardon!

(slapping) (Jim coughing)

- Never come in like that when I'm in mid-swig.

- I'm terribly sorry, headmaster.

- I might've drowned meself.

Oh dear.

What do you want anyway?

- I'm worried, headmaster.

There's an atmosphere in the school.

- There always is when the winds blowing from the pig farm.

Mind you, it's worse for the pigs,

when the wind's from the school.

- No, no, I mean, there's a sort of tension among the boys.

(trumpets)

Ever since the prince came,

young Wendover lost a lot of face.

- With that face, it's not much lost is it?

- No headmaster, you can scoff if you like.

But Wendover's been dangerously quiet lately.

I've got forebodings.

- I don't care how many bodings you've got.

As long as that boy is quiet, that's all I worry about.

- But is it the quiet before the storm?

(trumpeting)

I fear an explosion.

- Just the sort of thing you would say.

You are an old woman, really.

Explosion. (loud explosion)

My loot, looted!

My beautiful safe, blown up!

Shattered, smashed to pieces!

And that's what's gonna happen to you!

Sir, we didn't do it, I swear!

- What was it then? Mice?

- Sir, the boys of the Lower Third

wouldn't blow up your safe.

It wouldn't be sporting.

- [All] No.

- Out of your own cap you stand condemned.

This is your cap isn't it?

- Yes sir.

But it's a frame up.

- Do you know where this cap was found?

Right there amongst the smoking wreckage!

- I don't know how my cap got there, sir.

We're telling the truth, for once.

- There is only one gang in this school

capable of such a crime.

A gang, a desperately anxious to recover loss of face,

right, Mr. Pettigrew?

- [Wendover] No sir, please sir.

- Well it's not your face that's going to worry you now.

Members of the Lower Third.

After a fair trial, you have been found guilty

of this abominable and dastardly crime!

Have you anything to say before I pass sentence?

- [Wendover] Yes, sir.

- Well, I don't want to hear it!

I have no option but to award you the extreme penalty.

12 strokes of the cane each, a piece.

All round, in front of the entire school.

A full scale public flogging.

(boys gasp)

(sinister music)

- What are we here for, Mr. Pettigrew?

Is it a choir practise?

- No, Mr. Dinwiddie, it's a public castigation.

- What?

- A public castigation.

- Oh, well, I'll hum the bits I don't know.

- [Wendover] By the left, quick, march!

(triumphant orchestral music)

- Those boys? They'll never sing in tune.

- I fear not, I can't bear to look.

- Mm?

- Hey Biggs. - Yeah?

- A lot of chaps are turning against you.

- Why? You may not know it but there's a code of honour

in British Schools.

You can't let other chaps get whacked for something you did.

- So, what am I supposed to do?

- Own up!

- Oh, push off!

I'll show them who's boss around here.

(upbeat orchestral music)

(crowd jeering)

- Silence!

The next boy who opens his mouth will join

the celebrity panel up here.

That's better.

So stand by for the first public chastisement

in Chiselbury School for over 50 years.

- Yes, yes!

And let us start with Cherry Ripe.

(boys laugh)

♪ Cherry Ripe, Cherry Ripe ♪

♪ Ripe I cry ♪

♪ Full and fair ♪

♪ Come and ♪

- Mr. Pettigrew, please subdue this senile Sinatra.

My ceremonial whacking gloves please, matron.

Thank you.

We're all very grateful to members of the Lower Third,

for building this splendid Founders Day platform so quickly.

It has come in very handy.

Whackees, attention!

About turn!

One pace step forward, march!

Over-bend!

Mr. Pettigrew, will you kindly inspect them all

for any signs of any invisible protective shields?

(birds chirping)

- Oh you foolish boy.

You should've concealed it better.

(paper rustling)

- Just a minute!

Get back to your seat, pacifist!

(metal plate clangs)

Well Davis, you certainly dropped a clanger there,

didn't you, boy?

One extra for you for that!

And six more for any boy who does not produce padding

within three seconds.

(clanging)

(boys groan)

Wendover.

- Yes sir?

- I see you're suffering from the popular malady

of the slipped disc.

This one was certainly at the bottom of the hit parade,

was it not?

- It's unbreakable sir.

(boys laugh)

- You are not, as will be demonstrated to you

in a few moments.

(boys gasp)

(boys chatter)

Yes, I thought that would shake you all.

I'm using the great new detergent,

the five seater model.

Beats as it sweeps as it hurts.

Out of it number two, steady number one,

out of it number three, number four out a bit

little bit more, teensy,

number five out a bit, are you receiving me number five?

- [Crombie] Ow!

- Yes, roger.

(upbeat music)

- We are innocent!

- [Boys] They didn't do it!

- Bend over boy!

You can scrub right round the Captain Dreyfus stuff.

- If you lay a finger on us--

- It should be obvious to you by now, you dim witted child,

that I am not going to lay a finger on you.

- I'm warning you sir, if you try to whack us,

we'll have a revolution.

We'll start a sit down strike.

- When my strike is finished, you won't be able to sit down

for months, if ever, now get back to your place!

Now, once more into the breeches!

(uplifting music)

(boys cheering)

(boys cheering)

(upbeat music)

(horn honking)

Who the devil are you, sir?

- Uh, uh.

- Don't you threaten me.

You're trespassing so there can be

no question of compensation.

Pettigrew, take that away!

(car door slams)

- I don't know what you're talking about.

My name is Garrick Jones.

I'm from the Foreign Office

and I have urgent business with the headmaster.

- Oh, welcome to Chiselbury, sir.

You find us rehearsing our little pageant.

I'm Boadacea, come with me, remove my chariot!

- Gracious, Foreign Office?

- Foreign Office?

- Oh yes, I expect he's come to check up on how our

young prince is getting on.

- Oh.

- Now, Edwards, the Foreign Office has received very

disturbing news relevant to Prince Hassid Ali of Giwak.

- Oh, I knew I'd never get away with it.

- What I have to say will come as a tremendous shock

to you as it did all of us.

- Look, Mr. Pettigrew forged all those PS's,

I can prove it.

- I have no time for your irrelevancies.

I have to inform you that our of 495 British Public Schools,

yours has been chosen to take Prince Hassid Ali of Giwak.

- So the rumour got around to..

What? You mean the son of the oil merchant?

- Yes, his royal highness is coming to Chiselbury.

- Coming here?

- Only because it was unanimously decided that this was

the last place anyone would voluntarily send

a boy to be educated.

- I'm not among you, elucidate me.

- No one in their senses would think of looking

for the boy here.

His uncle, the Prime Minister, is violently anti-west

and greatly opposed to his coming to school in England.

- Out goes Biggs anyway.

- If his whereabouts were discovered, we fear trouble.

An attempt might be made to abduct him

and send him to a school in Moscow.

I shall therefore bring his highness here tonight,

after dark.

He will come as an ordinary new boy, in the name of Allen.

- Allen.

- I must impress on you, Professor.

Nobody but you must know about this.

Complete secrecy is essential.

I shall see you later.

(playful music)

(Jim laughs)

- This is something really worth celebrating.

A real Prince at Chiselbury.

I shall get rid of Biggs tomorrow.

Here's to you, Jim me lad!

Ah!

For services rendered, Sir James Edwards.

No, no, no, no, Baron Jim of Mortlake in the Breweries.

- Headmaster, headmaster.

Those boys, Wendover and the others, they've disappeared.

- Forget them, don't flinch old friend.

It's an amnesty.

Tell them the whackings are cancelled.

- Oh headmaster, I'm so glad.

You look exalted.

Was it good news from the Foreign Office?

- That is a secret between me and Her Majesty's government.

Leave me, vassell.

- Goodnight, your highness.

Goodnight, professor.

- Goodnight.

Well (speaks foreign language),

I never got further than Algiers during the war.

Imshee, chop chop.

Big white chief take dusky neighbour up to his Wigwam

for a little ol' shut eye.

How?

- Thank you sir, I am a little tired.

I would like to retire.

- Oh you sprechen die, er, English, velly good!

Up here then.

What's he got in here, gold?

Up the apples! (chuckles)

(suspenseful music)

- Well here you are, this is the new boys dormitory,

That's where his highness will be.

- It's too risky, supposing it's true,

MI5 have been tipped off about us.

- If you work fast, he can be on my plane

before anybody realises what's happened.

- What if the boy kicks up a fuss?

- Then use force.

It's for his highness' good.

He must learn that his country's future lies

with the eastern block.

Get on, they will all be asleep now.

(suspenseful music)

- And of course if there is any special food

that your worship has grown grown accustomed to,

you know like buffalo or pelican,

expect I can get it from the Home and Colonial.

- I will eat whatever the other boys eat, sir.

- What suicidal gallantry.

- And please sir, I wish to be treated like an ordinary boy.

- Not on your oriental nelly.

I know which side my bread's buttered.

Quietly from here, because the other boys will be asleep.

In there.

(lighthearted music)

What the?

But it isn't bath night for another three weeks.

That's Cecil Biggs' bed.

You have this bed and wait here.

- Yes sir.

(uplifting music)

(suspenseful music)

- I'm so sorry, headmaster.

- Mr. Pettigrew, will you look where you're going?

- Headmaster, I've been looking for you everywhere,

the boys are revolting.

- Have you been at this this school for ten years

and only just discovered that?

- No, no, no, I mean they're rioting.

They've captured Cecil Biggs.

- Who has?

- Wendover and the rest.

Masses of them, out there.

- Attention!

(horns trumpeting)

- What's this?

- That's what I came to tell you, headmaster.

It looks like a revolution.

- But didn't you tell them about the amnesty?

- We never found them.

- Then it's off, heads will roll for this!

(kids cheering)

- To your firing stations, men!

(drumrolls)

(triumphant music)

(energetic orchestral music)

- Testing water, water on!

- Okay for water!

Water off!

- Hey you, these are the egg bombs.

The ones marked with a cross are hard boiled.

The others, raw.

- Righto.

- No pointed arrows will be issued without express orders

from the Chief of Staff, and use these sparingly.

- Hey!

Black up well, chaps.

The commandos may well play a vital role.

- Glad to be back with you Wenders.

- So you should be.

Ah, how's our royal captive today?

Guard, one false move from him and let him have it.

Chaps, gather round!

Now listen everybody, this isn't a game.

It's war!

We don't want our school run by Cecil Biggs,

even if he is a prince.

(crowd jeering)

Jim may let him do what he likes but we're not going to.

So we shall hold this building until the parents

and Governors arrive tomorrow for the Founders Day

and then we shall insist upon a new deal.

So fight like Hades, men, and remember,

that right is on our side!

(boys cheering)

♪ Where is the spot we will love til we die ♪

♪ Chiselbury, Chiselbury ♪

♪ Hear our cry ♪

♪ There may be rot if we're telling a lie ♪

♪ Chiselbury, Chiselbury ♪

♪ Hear our cry ♪

♪ Gaudeamus, naught can harm us ♪

♪ Juvenentum ♪

- Stop!

Enemy approach, Jim and Potters.

♪ In their nighties or pyjamas ♪

♪ Jim his silent watch will keep ♪

- Oh dear, they do sound a bit well, er.

- They'll be singing in a higher key

when I've finished with them. Now leave the talking to me.

I know how to handle Wendover.

- Hold your fire.

Leave the talking to me!

I know how to handle Jim.

- Now chaps, what say we declare an amnesty

on all whackings, eh?

And if you've got any grievances, well let's iron them out.

Chap to chap, eh chaps?

- Next the honour of the school.

- Now, lads, think of the honour of the dear old school.

We don't want to let Chiselbury down like this, do we?

Dear old Chiselbury, that we all love so well.

Chaps, I come in peace.

I'm your friend.

- Now the threats.

- Once and for all.

If you don't open this blasted door, I'll annihilate you.

I'll obliterate you.

I'll wipe you off the face of the earth.

- And now he takes it out on Mr. Pettigrew.

- I blame you for this!

- Me, headmaster?

- Do something about it.

Don't just stand there with your great dome shining

in the moonlight like St. Paul's Cathedral on a wet night.

Do something!

- Do what?

- Well, break the door down.

- What with?

- You've got a shoulder, haven't you?

- It's not much of one, headmaster.

Yours is much bigger.

- Is this mutiny, Mr. Pettigrew?

Perhaps you'd rather be behind the door with the boys,

would you?

- Oh yes, come over to us, Mr Pettigrew.

We've nothing against you.

- So we're courting cheap popularity are we now, eh?

Oliver Pettigrew, force's favourite.

All right, go on, desert me.

- Oh never headmaster.

I'll do it.

I'll break down that door.

(Pettigrew knocking)

- Mind you don't knock the whole ruddy building over.

Put some meat behind it!

Oh, take a run at it then.

Be a proper juggernaut.

- Don't do it, Mr. Pettigrew!

For your own sake, or something terrible will happen!

- Headmaster, did you hear that?

When Wendover threatens--

- Why you lily livered jelly fish.

Why you great lump of liquid lard.

You, you drip on a stick.

Out of my way.

(upbeat music)

(students laughing)

- Oh headmaster, are you all right?

- Do I look all right?

I might have dislocated my clavicle.

I'll break, oh!

- Oh!

(energetic music)

Oh that was very naughty!

- All right, Wendover, when retribution comes,

remember it was you who struck the first blow!

- Now boys, what can you possibly gain

by locking yourselves in there?

- We'll tell that to the parents

and Governors tomorrow, sir.

- What do they mean?

- Now look here, Wendover, I'll do a deal with you.

- Sorry sir, we've lost all our faith in your deals.

- Now look here Wendover, I give you just 30 seconds.

30 seconds.

Hasn't anybody got a watch that works?

(bell rings)

(boys cheering)

- Keep it up!

(energetic music) (water gushing)

- I tell ya, that's the room.

- You're right, well let's get going.

Come on.

(suspenseful music)

(gentle music)

(door squeaks)

- Right gentlemen, no smoking please

and if you must cough, please cough now

and not during my briefing.

(coughing)

Trust you, Mr. Colbourne.

I'm still watching you, you know?

Well now, gentlemen, our campaign.

Hey, hey, hey, who's been mucking about with my plan?

- It was I, headmaster.

Annihilation, you spelt it wrong.

- Merely to confuse the enemy, Mr. Hackforth.

I shall brook no interference from junior officers.

On the cheese board of strategy, you are but a prawn.

Now gentlemen, the campaign.

Hello, he's off again.

What does he do at night?

Dinwiddie! I'm about to explain my operation!

- Oh nothing too serious, I hope!

- My intention is to mount a surprise attack

by means of these smoke bombs here.

You're late, Mr. Pettigrew.

Where have you been?

- You sent me on patrol, headmaster.

- Quite right, so I did.

- I peeped through their window.

- How very daring of you.

What did you find out?

- Well I couldn't see very much,

the place was thick with smoke.

- What already?

It will be smokier soon.

How do you account for this?

- They threw flour at me.

- Bless my soul, we'd all been thinking

you had blown down your sherbet dab.

Dust yourself off you old fool,

while I get on with my briefing.

Now this is the tuckshop here.

Now the diversionary attack, Hackforth and Dinwiddie,

will be from here but the main attack,

Hamley and Colbourne will be from here with the smoke bombs.

Should this attack fail,

it may mean a costly frontal assault.

But this attack will not fail gentlemen,

because these smoke bombs are of

a particularly vicious and strong nature,

and will soon drive them out of their positions.

Now the essence of an attack with smoke bombs is surprise.

Merciless, unmitigated, overwhelming and complete surprise.

(explosions)

(smoke gushing)

(teachers coughing)

Stop rescuing me you old fool!

I must go back.

- No, no, headmaster, you'll suffocate!

- I must rescue the booze!

- Red Group to HQ, Headmaster's study captured intact.

- Main telephone lines cut.

- Main telephone lines cut as instructed.

- Good work men, I'll join you outside shortly.

Meanwhile, leave Crombie in possession.

Other forces to second objective, over and out!

- Oh headmaster.

I do believe I can see boys in there.

- What? Rubbish!

They'd never dare!

(water splashing)

- Oh headmaster!

(thumping)

- You little rats!

You're caught in there like rats in a trap.

(thumping)

Right, Roebuck, you stop here and guard the door.

Polbrooke, you go round the outside and guard the window.

That's trapped some of them.

- Oh headmaster, is that wise with so few of us?

- Jim's captain, don't argue!

The rest of you follow me.

We'll set up HQ in my bedroom.

- Oh I don't know, it's fantastic, all the rooms are empty.

There's not a boy to be seen anywhere.

Here, what happened?

- I knew it.

MI5 have been tipped off, let's get out of here.

- That boy Wendover is going to find out

that I'm not to be trifled with.

He's started something now that he can't finish.

(water spraying)

(door rattling)

- Red Group to HQ, bedroom seized, according to plan.

Roger and out.

- I don't know what they need it for

but that should fix it.

- Come on.

(crashing)

(groans)

- Oh, oh my back!

What happened?

- How do I know what happened?

Maybe..

Here, someone's coming.

Over there, quick, go on!

(sighs)

- What is it?

- Two masters crept into the boothole.

- Chuck this in.

- Thunderflash, that should rout 'em out.

(sparks fizzing)

- Here, let's have a smoke til everything's quiet.

(loud explosion)

(coughing)

- Know your part, Mr. Pettigrew?

- Yes, I think so Headmaster but I don't like it.

It's underhanded.

- Beautifully underhanded.

- That's splendid.

Nice and tight around the legs, Mr. Hamley.

No granny knots.

- Headmaster, supposing they start throwing things again?

- Well use that.

- Oh may I?

- Why yes, of course.

Belonged to our only war hero, gentlemen, TJ Figgins.

Shot in 1943 for high treason.

Once inside, gentlemen, I want you to act really tough,

then they'll collapse like a pack of ninepins.

Come on.

Why didn't you remind me I was tied up?

(footsteps thumping)

- Well, if you're not burglars,

what were you doing on the ladder then?

- Never you mind, just you let us get out of here

or it'll be the worse for you.

- Hey Wenders!

- [Wendover] Yes?

- We've captured a couple of strangers, burglars I think.

- Oh lummy, we'll have to hold them here for a bit.

All spare forces on to the roof at the double.

- What the hell do we do?

- Get loose and get out of this mad house.

- Bring your searchlights into their forward positions, men.

(whistling)

(boys laughing)

- This will be a masterstroke.

Wendover is bound to swallow this.

(whistling)

You traitorous masters.

I'll have you all reported to the county education officer.

(whistling)

- Boys, can you hear me?

- Yes, Mr. Pettigrew, we can hear you.

- We have turned against the headmaster.

We wish to join you, as an expression of our good faith,

we want to hand him over to you

and throw ourselves on your mercy.

- Well done, Mr. Pettigrew.

Three cheers boys for Mr. Pettigrew and the staff.

Hip hip!

- [All] Hooray!

- Hip hip!

- [All] Hooray!

- [Wendover] Hip hip!

- [All] Hooray!

- Hip hip hooray, they fell for it.

Talk about strategy.

Move over Monty, go on Petters, go on.

- Boys, then will you let us in?

- Bring him in sir, we'll open the doors.

Now!

(energetic music)

(bangs)

(crackling) (explosions)

Number one artillery barrage.

Fire!

(triumphant music)

(crackling) (explosions)

Here, catch!

(boys cheering)

(crackling) (explosions)

- Save me, oh save me, you rotten funks.

Save me!

Save me, save old Jim!

- A squadron, take off!

(planes buzzing)

(triumphant music)

(planes buzzing)

- Save me, oh save me.

- Cowards, all of you.

Cowards!

- Dive down on Jim, quick!

(planes buzzing)

Now on Petters, quick!

(planes buzzing)

- Oh!

- Come on, keep it going!

(planes buzzing)

- Headmaster.

- Lovely shot!

Come on, keep them going around.

- Oliver, Oliver,

you brave bald headed old clot!

I knew I could rely on you.

- I had to come headmaster.

- Why be so blasted long about it?

- Dive down on Jim and Petters.

That's it.

(planes buzzing)

- You've got such short arms.

Oh, oh!

(grunting)

Oh!

Pax!

Oh!

- Please, please, stand back everybody.

- I've had enough!

Pax!

Wendover, call off your air quadrons.

(boys cheering)

(triumphant music)

- Call off air attack number one commando action.

(boys cheering)

- Roebuck, Hackforth, go out there, scare 'em off!

Watch out!

School!

School!

- Too late, commandos return to base, lights out.

(triumphant music)

- Come on!

- We missed Jim but we got Mr. Pettigrew.

- Hard luck chaps, it was a near thing though.

- Where is Pettigrew?

- Pettigrew, they've got Pettigrew!

(bugle trumpets)

This time you've gone too far, Wendover.

Now cry havoc and let loose the dogs of war.

Come on.

- Now boys, you really are being pickles.

This borders on disobedience.

- Don't worry Mr. Pettigrew.

Come and sit down.

Guard, fetch Mr. Pettigrew a cup of tea immediately.

- Thank you.

- Chaps we must prepare for an all out attack.

- Oh, your highness.

- Are you a master in this zoo?

- Yes, I'm so sorry.

- Untie our hands quick before that guard comes back.

- Those boys, I do apologise.

- If you don't want to land in jail, you'll do it quick.

Get a move on.

(whistling)

- Come on you lazy dogs, put some life into it.

Telegraph squad, halt!

Let's line you up.

Right a bit at the back.

Down a bit at the front.

Hold it at that.

Whoa, whoa.

- Oh do please hurry, headmaster, it's so dreadfully heavy.

- Back to you place, weakling.

Now gentlemen, at the end of the countdown,

I want you to charge and batter down the door.

Once inside, lay about you with a will

Your first objective is Wendover.

If you can get Mr. Pettigrew so much the better.

10, nine, eight and a half.

(gun fires)

(boys chattering)

- Quiet, quiet!

Don't panic men.

Back to your posts!

- Now's our chance.

Let's get out of here.

We're MI5, you'd better come with us.

His highness.

(energetic music)

- Now, gee up, go on!

(suspenseful music)

- Ow!

- Oh I do beg your pardon.

- Pardon? You nearly murdered me.

- What the blazes are you playing at?

- Get this out of here, you idiot! Get this out!

- Gentlemen extract the pole for Lady Gore Willoughby's car.

- What's happening here?

I heard the most terrible noises from my house.

Bombs, explosions. I couldn't get you on the telephone

so I dashed straight over.

What is going on?

- It's a cadet exercise.

Night manoeuvres, yes that's it.

Nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about,

Lady Gore blimey!

What's that?

(bell ringing) (car screeches)

Gerrick Jones, what's he doing here?

- The Prince, where is he?

- Well, he's up in the new boys dormitory, what on earth--

- Are you sure? We've just got a tip from MI5,

there's a plot to kidnap him tonight.

- Are you quite sure he's in the dormitory, sir?

- I took him up there myself,

he's getting his royal head down.

- We may be in time, take us to him quickly.

- It's this way, first flight of stairs on the right.

- What's happening out there?

- I don't know, keep watch and I'll go find out.

- There he is, fast asleep.

Prince.

Your highness?

Well he was here.

Prince (whistles).

- Sir, an aircraft has just taken off from

that old aircraft the other side of the village.

Three men were seen driving up to it with a boy.

- We shall never catch 'em now,

we shall have to contact Whitehall, the RAF.

- Of all the incompetent, bungling, idiotic.

You were told to guard him carefully, this is the end.

- Well, Lady Gore Willoughby,

there is nothing for me to say.

You will receive my resignation in the morning.

(muffled cries)

Pettigrew, where have you been?

What's been going on?

Speak to me, you silly old fool.

Say something, answer me!

- Professor, really!

- Oh, headmaster, the prince.

They've taken the prince!

- Who have?

- Those two men, they said they were MI5.

They asked me which boy was the prince and when I told them,

they tied me up and they took him away!

- Excuse me sir.

- Not now, boy I'm far too busy.

- Sir, what is going on?

- It's simply that the prince has been captured.

So you've escaped!

- Escaped?

Sorry sir, I sneaked out to watch the fireworks display.

- Well, then who did they kidnap?

- I keep telling you headmaster, the prince,

it was all my fault!

Oh poor little Cecil Biggs.

- Cecil Biggs! (laughs)

They kidnapped Cecil Biggs, they've kidnapped Cecil Biggs.

- Have you gone mad?

- By heavens Edwards, you're in for a..

Your highness.

- Who?

- Lady Gore Willoughby, let me present to you,

His Royal Highness, Prince Hassid Ali of Giwak.

- But.

- What's been going on here?

Who's the boy in the plane?

- A decoy.

Our little plan worked, eh Mr. Pettigrew?

- What plan?

- He's still a little bit woozy you know?

Try and remember it as I tell it to you.

You see I deliberately put it round

that a certain boy called Cecil Biggs was the prince.

I had a shrewd idea that something like this

would happen, you know.

- Edwards, that was pretty clever.

- Pretty clever.

For the spur of the moment, it was ruddy marvellous.

- But headmaster if Cecil Biggs wasn't the prince,

why was it that he--

(muffled cries)

(uplifting music)

(upbeat music)

- Before we sign this incorporated peace treaty

and new deal, I shall read out the Heads of Agreement

so that we have quite clear in our minds the details

of this momentous instrument to

which we shall have appended our signatures.

(crowd giggles)

(paper rustling)

Number one, reprisals, forgetting of.

Number two, pocket money, freeing of.

Number three, whacking, rationing of.

(students chattering)

Number four, grub, increasing of.

Number five, manual labour, abolishing of.

Number six, favouritism, elimination of.

Satisfied?

- Smashing, sir!

- Very well.

Peace in our term.

(students cheering)

(triumphant music)

- [All] Hooray!

- Hold it sir!

- You splodge your cross there, Wendover.

- [All] Hooray!

- Now, let's get back to normal.

(boys groaning)

- Oh no, sir!

That's not fair.

- There's nothing in here about disarmament.

(boys shouting)

Back to your kennels, dogs, go on!

Thank you, gentlemen.

- You carried that off splendidly, masterly, headmaster.

- Thank you.

Who was it who said the cane is mightier than the pen?

- You headmaster. - Oh yes, yes.

- At speech day. - Oh yes, yes.

- For the last five years.

- I feel somehow like Mr. Gladstone must have felt

when he invented his famous bag,

or Wellington his famous boot.

It's at times like this, that I want to seek inspiration

from my old friend, the late, great, Julius Caesar.

- Oh headmaster, I forgot to tell you,

50 new applications from prospective pupils.

We really have won through, haven't we?

- What do you mean, we?

What have you done?

- If it hadn't been for, if I hadn't--

- Yeah?

- Nothing.

- Exactly, so don't try horning in on my rewards.

(door knocking)

Come in!

Yes boy?

- Please sir, I have come to give you a little present

from my country.

- Present, what is it?

- An old Giwakian treasure chest, sir.

- Treasure? Oh you shouldn't have.

- But sir, it is made on one condition.

- What's that?

- That in future, I am treated like an ordinary boy.

I want to be just like Wendover and all the rest.

- Like Wendover? What an extraordinary ambition!

Still if that's the way you want it my boy,

that's the way you shall have it.

You are just an ordinary boy.

Wendover mark two.

- Thank you, sir.

That is nice.

Now I feel free and it is good.

- Barmy, I'm glad they have me something more than

this rotten old horse brass here.

Thieving hands off!

This is Jim's treasure.

(box explosion) (coughing)

- Oh what happened? My moustache!

My moustache!

Semi-detashed!

(boys laughing)

- Oh headmaster!

(upbeat music)

(triumphant music)

♪ Where is the spot we will love til we die ♪

♪ Chiselbury, Chiselbury ♪

♪ There may we rot if we're telling a lie ♪

♪ Chiselbury here the cry ♪

♪ Omnia Omnia ♪

♪ Willy nilly here we are ♪

♪ Here we cram dreary damn ♪

♪ Latin prep ad nauseam ♪

♪ Floreat floreat ♪

♪ You're going to be jolly well sorry at ♪

♪ Chiselbury, Chiselbury ♪

♪ Up the school ♪

♪ Chiselbury, Chiselbury ♪

♪ Up the school ♪