Original subtitles

Love is the greatest of allthings, greater than fame,

wealth, or knowledge.

But, like all things, it can be eroded.

James Coombs, shopkeeper.

His wife, Evelyn.

Once there had been love, but now,

now there was only rank disaffection.

A man can take so much and then, no more.

I've had words.

I've told her.

But does she listen?

Although anyonewho chanced to meet him

on that Sunday afternoon mightbe surprised to learn of it,

Coombs was generally a mild and timid man.

She's greedy, loquacious, disloyal.

I could kill her.

She changed out of all recognition

since I married her.

Calling me names.

Fritting away all my profits.

I'll bleeding kill her, all right.

Only married me to escape the labors

of the work room, but too stupidto do her share in the shop.

I will bleeding kill her.

In Coombs' heart, he knew

he would never kill his wife.

And yet, he felt he could endure no more.

Each Sunday it started off well enough.

That must be Jenny and her new chap.

You invited Jenny?

Yes.

Well, you didn't tell me.

Didn't I?

I thought I did.

Come in!

Come in.

Hello, Evelyn!

Blasted Jenny.

Such a lovely hat, Jenny.

Ain't it just?

I was ever so taken.

Ooh, afternoon, Mr. Coombs.

Good afternoon, Jenny.

This here's my pal, Mr. Clarence.

Good afternoon, Mr. Coombs.

Jim?

Clear away these thingswhile I attend to our guests.

Flaming Jenny, come around whenever

she fancies with her gabbling chronicle

fellas and her flaming hats!

And I said, isn'tthat the most divine hat?

And darling Clarence only goes and offers

to go chase it for me.

Oh, how sweet of him.

Why no, Jim.

Why don't we go out shopping this weekend?

You've already got threehats, Evie, and only one head.

Well, a lady's got to look her best.

Quite.

Little dolly daydream, pride of Idaho

so don't you know?

Sunday.

Sunday!

What's wrong with my playing now?

Careful with that music stool.

It's not built for heavyweights.

Don't you worry about weights!

Can't people just enjoy themselves?

Surely you don't hold of music

on a Sunday, Mr. Coombs?

I do.

May I ask for why?

Because it don't suit me.

I don't mind rational enjoyment at all,

but I am not having weekdaytunes played on a Sunday

in this house.

I never saw such a man as you.

You've altered all round since we was married.

I'm a businessman.

I have to study my collection.

If you don't mean to study my collection,

what'd you marry me for?

I wonder.

You've gone all stiff and starched.

Never mind, Jim.

Play on, Jenny.

I tell you, I will not have that!

No violence, now.

Who the deuce are you?

I am Jenny's intended.

I don't care who you are.

Jim!

You ought to be ashamed of yourself,

insulting your guests.

They're not my guests.

Go on, get out, the pair of ya.

- Well! - Go on!

Get out! - You do no such thing!

You stay just where you are.

You are always welcome in this house, Jenny.

You, too, Clarence.

Right.

Little dollydaydream, pride of Idaho.

All that remained in him now was

disappointment and loneliness.

Coombs began to realize it wasnot Evelyn's death he craved.

Serve her right if I killed myself.

I'll hang myself.

Here.

Up a tree.

Why not here and now?

Rather good stuff.

Such a fuss about nothing.

See what I have to put up with, Mr. Clarence?

He is a bit hasty.

All he cares about is that old shop.

And if I have any company or give myself

anything to keep myself decent, get

any little thing I want outof the housekeeping money,

there's disagreeables.

Well, if a man values awoman, he must be prepared

to make sacrifices for her.

He was a fool to have me, ifyou don't mind me saying so.

I should have seen it coming, Jenny.

If it wasn't for my oldfather, we shouldn't have had

not a carriage to our wedding.

Lord, he didn't stick out at that.

For my own part, I wouldn't think

of marrying until I was in a position

to do the thing in style.

The fuss he makes about money.

Always coming to me withsheets of paper and figures,

pretty near crying.

Always asking me to work in that shop, I ask ya.

I says to him, if you wanted a slavey,

why didn't you marry one?

Instead of a respectable girl.

He don't deserve you,Evelyn, and that's a fact.

He's a little grub of a man.

A grub.

Yes, indeed.

A grub of a man. Grub of a man.

Oh, stop.

Play that tune again, Jenny.

Oh yeah, go on, Jenny.

He's a grub.

He's a grub of a man.

Oh, Mrs. Coombs.

Little dollydaydream, pride of Idaho,

so now you know, now you know,and when we go, when you go.

If there's something on yourmind, don't think it's you,

cause no one's gonna kiss the girl but me.

In eating what he believedto be poisonous toadstools,

James Coombs had elected to leave this world.

However, he was completely unprepared

for the bizarre and irrationaldimensions of the new world

he had inadvertently entered.

They were not poisonous toadstools.

He was veryunpleasant back home.

And all because they just wantto be out and enjoy themselves.

They were quite right, too.

I think up until now, I've been very dull.

But I shall be dull no longer.

Thank you for the lovelycrumpets, Mrs. Coombs.

My pleasure.

Marvelous, have a bit ofa sing-song too, ain't it?

Delightful.

And I'm sorry about the earlier disagreeables.

You're a saint for putting upwith him, Evie, you know that,

don't ya? - I tries me best.

Putting up with the little grub.

Oh, Mr. Clarence.

Here's his lordship.

He left a lion.

He'll return like a lamb, I'll lay.

Jim.

Evie.

Evie.

Jim!

You look just like whenwe first met, only older.

He's drunk.

We're just on our way, Mr. Coombs.

Thank you for your hospitality.

No, surely you're going.

Afraid so, Mr. Coombs.

Come on, Clarence.

See you again soon, I hope.

Bye, Evelyn.

No!

Stay, stay.

Sing some more songs.

Here, have a toadstool.

Surely good stuff.

Perhaps not.

Not in my house.

A monster here.

Jim!

No disagreeables.

Come on, sing!

Mrs. Coombs!

Sing man!

Sing!

All right.

All right.

Little dollydaydream, pride of Idaho.

Come along now!

Mr. Clarence!

We must have some merriment!

Dance with me.

What?

Dance with me.

No, no.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

Please.

Mr. Coombs, we are both busy men.

Too busy for merriment?

Too busy?

But that's just the problem.

We mustn't be too busy.

We must burn light as brightand as wondrous as possible!

Now come dance with me, once more.

Dance with me!

No!

Evelyn assumed Coombs behavior to be

due to overindulgence in ale.

And he did nothing todissuade her from this belief.

Naturally, relations werestrained for several days.

I don't know what to say.

I'm sure I don't.

Maybe best not say anything.

Yet, soon enough, things

returned to the old order.

However, having tasted heaven, Coombs

found it difficult to becontent with the old order.

Purple pierce.

Season, late spring.

Habitat, woodlands.

Hallucinogenic.

Coombs now realized he had

been the victim of an overdose.

He believed, with careful calculation,

he could determine exactly thecorrect dose, the dose which

would induce within him a gentle intimation

of that blissful feelinghe so craved to know again.

In his dealings with theworld, there grew a softness

and a kindness in him.

One crusty farmhouse loaf.

Thank you, Mr. Coombs.

Little dollydaydream, pride of Idaho,

if there's something on yourmind don't think it's you,

cause no one's gonna kiss the girl but me.

Inevitably, of course, there

was the occasional miscalculation,

and he had to weather the consequences.

Something smells nice.

It's just soup.

I'll get a vase.

What sort of creature are you?

Many a man has desire to livein a state of constant bliss.

Many a man has tried tocreate his own wonderland.

But few are able to live there forever.

Because, in the end, thebarbarians will always arrive.