All language subtitles for The.Ruling.Class.1972.DVDRip.XviD-iNCiTE.ENG

My lords, gentlemen,

pray silence for Ralph Douglas
Christopher Alexander Gurney,

the 13th earl of Gurney.

Thank you.

The aim of the
Society of St. George...

is to keep green
the memory of England.

We were once the rulers...

of the greatest empire
the world has ever known!

- Hear, hear!
- Ruled not by superior force or skill,

but by sheer presence.

Hear, hear!

So I give you England.

This teeming womb of privilege.

This feudal state...

whose shores beat back
the turbulent sea of foreign anarchy.

This ancient fortress,

still commanded by the noblest
of our royal blood.

Hear, hear!

This ancient land of ritual.

This precious stone...

set in the silver sea.

The toast is "England.
This precious stone...

set in the silver sea."

England. Set in the silver sea.

# God save our gracious Queen #

#Scatter Her enemies #

#And make them fall #

# Confound their politics #

#Frustrate their knavish tricks #

# On Thee our hopes we fix #

# God save the Queen ##

Ah, thank you, Tuck.

How was your speech, my lord?

Went well, Tuck.

Englishmen like to hear
the truth about themselves.

He's back, Claire.

Claire!
I said, Ralph is back.

Thank you, Charles.
I'll have a vodka and tonic.

I say, guv'nor, the guv'nor is back.

Mummy, I was just telling the guv'nor
that the guv'nor is back.

Charles! With ice.

I'm repeating myself,
calling the guv'nor the guv'nor
and Daddy the guv'nor as well.

- Tucker, I'm getting married again.
- Very good, my lord.

Miss Grace Shelley.
Charles is right.

Been putting it off.
Sake of the family.

OnlyJack left.

This house... used to be
full of mischief.

Four young devils.

Thought I was safe enough.

Master Paul would have been
the 14th earl.

District officer at 21.

Dead at 23. Beriberi.

Picked it up off some scruffy
fuzzy-wuzzy in dressing gown.

Shouldn't wonder, eh?

Master Richard
used to play the xylophone.

And young Raymond,
killed in Malaya.

Not one of them buried in England.

Never seen their graves.

You could do that
on your honeymoon, my lord.

Hmm, there's stillJack.

It's all based on land, Tuck.

Can't have those knaves
from Whitehall moving in.

So it's Miss Grace Shelley.

Is she anyone, my lord?

No one. But Charles recommends her
as good breeding stock.

Family foals well.
Sires, mostly.

There's always room at the top for
brains, money or a good pair of titties.

Miss Shelley seems
well endowed, my lord.

Hmm.

Oh, the guv'nor loved this bed.

Took it all over
the world with him.

Devilish great man,
the guv'nor. Superb shot.

Did wonderful needlework too.

What do you got there, hmm?

Huh.

Oh, yes. Why not?

Hard day. Need to relax.

Might I suggest
the silk tonight, sir?

Good idea, Tuck.

For St. George, eh?

Ah, Tuck, there's no end to duty.

The law has been my life, Tuck.

Ajudge can't be unreasonable...

so how can he be a lover, eh?

Ours is a damned dry world, Tuck.

A long life
and a gray one, my lord.

The power of life and death.

Ajudge has no need for other vices.

Once you put on a black cap,
everything else tastes like wax fruit.

Uh, noose a bit high, Tuck.
Bring it down half an inch.

That's it.

Will that be all, my lord?

A whiskey and soda
in about five minutes, as usual.

Oh, Tuck,
I shan't be dining tonight.

Tell cook the trial ends tomorrow,

so I shall be wanting one of her
extra-large breakfasts in the morning.

She knows I don't like passing
sentence on an empty stomach.

- Very good, my lord.
- Thank you, Tuck.

Nothing like a good English breakfast.

Big meal of the day for the guv'nor.

Always read The Times through first...

in case there was anything
too disturbing in it.

Mother never knew what the word
"socialist" meant till she was past 50.

Remember standing
at the foot of the bed there...

telling them
I wanted to be a painter.

"The Gurneys have never
been slackers," he said.

"Earned their privileges."

Great concession
letting me study law.

Not the Gurney tradition, no.
Always the army.

# Feet, feet, feet
The boys are marching #

A little more grapeshot,
Captain Bragg.

Give 'em a touch
of the cold steel, boys.

Close. It's getting close.

I can feel her hot breath.
Wonderful, wonderful.

One slip. Wonderful.
The worms have the best of it.

They dine off the tenderest joints.
Juicy breasts, white thighs.

'Tis a far, far better thing
I do now than I've ever done.

No, sir, no bandage.
Die, my dear doctor?

Oh, that is the last thing
I shall do.

Is that you, my love?
Come to me.

Come!

Touched him. Saw her.

Towers of death and silence.

Angels of fire and ice.
Saw Alexander...

covered with honey
and beeswax in his tomb.

Felt the flowers growing over me.

Oh, a man must have vision.

How else could an English judge,
and peer of the realm...

take moonlit trips
to Marrakesh and Ponders End?

See six vestal virgins
smoking cigars?

Moses in bedroom slippers?

Naked bosoms floating past Formosa?

Just time for a quick one.

Be of good cheer, Master Ridley,

and play the man.

There's plenty of time
to win this game...

and beat the Spaniards too.

Form squares, men!

Smash the Mahdi...
and Binnie Barnes!

- Are you ready,
Your Lordship?

Bleeding bloody hell.

"I am the resurrection
and the life, "sayeth the Lord.

"He that believeth in me...

though he were dead,
yet shall he live.

And whomsoever liveth
and believeth in me...

shall never die.

Gilead is mine
and Manasses is mine.

Ephraim also
is the strength of my head.

Judah is my lawgiver...

and Moab is my washpot.

Over Edom will I cast out
my shoe...

and upon Philistria
will I triumph.

Who will lead me
into the strong city...

and who will bring me
into Edom?"

#All things
bright and beautiful #

#All creatures great and small #

#All things wise and wonderful #

#The Lord God made them all ##

An excellent service, Bertie.
Created exactly the right impression.

Damned if I could understand
a word of it.

I hardly expected you to, my boy.

Charles, I must
have a word with you.

Charles, you see,
this was a service...

which I could not have conducted
for someone who may have laid...

vi-violent hands upon himself.

Wait, Charles.
A disturbing rumor has reached me.

Tell me, did Ralph commit suicide?

Suicide? Tucker found Ralph
hanging in his bedroom...

wearing a cocked hat,
underpants and a ballet skirt.

- Does that sound like suicide?
- Oh, no, no, it does not.

But l-l-I had to be sure,
Charles. After all, he...

well, he is buried
in consecrated ground.

I must say, it's damned
odd to find Uncle Ralph...

hanging around like that
in a ballet skirt.

Charles, didn't you say Ralph
was always rather... artistic?

He was willful, stubborn,
and this time he went too far.

But he was my brother.
Well, half brother.

I will not have you
calling him artistic.

Cocked hat. Cocked hat.
You said cocked hat, Charles.

Wh-Why was Ralph
wearing a cocked hat?

Trying it on for size, obviously.

I told him
not to remain a widower.

The guv'nor didn't have
to start breeding again.

It was not pleasant
for a man of Ralph's age,

but that was something
he had to get on top of.

Underpants. Wh-Why was...

Why was he... Why was he...
Why was he in his underpants, Charles?

Well, he was in his
bedroom, wasn't he?

I thought all our troubles
would be over...

when he took a fancy
to young Grace Shelley.

- That would have solved everything.
- Yes, wouldn't it just?

I do not know
what all the bother is about.

Uncle Ralph has got an heir:
Jack, the 14th earl.

Yes, there's always Jack.

Yes, it's gonna be awkward.
Damned awkward.

Well, Ralph knew the situation.
I'm sure he's made proper arrangements.

It's simply a matter of finding out who
he's made legal guardian of the estate.

Ballet skirt!

What on earth was he doing in a ballet
skirt, Charles? Answer me that.

A Mr. Matthew Peake
to see you, Sir Charles.

Thank you, Tucker.
Come on in, Peake.

I believe you know everyone here.

I have that honor, Sir Charles.

All right, that's all, Tucker.
We're not to be disturbed.

Uh, might I suggest,
Sir Charles, that Tucker stays?

What?

Hmm, quite.

Well, Tucker, it seems you're going
to hear something to your advantage.

- Yes.
- Do sit down, Tucker.

Thank you, madame.

May I take this opportunity
to express my condolences?

Yes, yes, but do get on with it.

But, Sir Charles,
shouldn't we wait?

- I mean, His Lordship's heir.
- He's been notified.

Wasn't able to get away for the funeral,
so he's not likely to come now.

Very well.
I will inform him later.

"I, Ralph Douglas
Christopher Alexander Gurney...

of Gurney House
in the county of Bedfordshire,

hereby revoke all former wills
and codicils and declare this to be
my last will.

I appoint Mr. Matthew Peake
of 17 Brownlow Gardens, Bedfordshire,

to be the sole executor of my will.

I give and bequeath
unto my manservant, Daniel Tucker...

the sum of �30,000 free of duty."

- What?
- Thirty thousand?

There follow a number
of bequests to various charities.

I'll run through them briefly.

I bequeath the sum of �5,000 to the
Tail Wavers Registered National Charity,

�3,000 to the Bankers
Benificent Society, Limited...

Thirty-thousand smackers!
Yippee!

# I'm Gilbert the Filbert
The Knut with a "K" #

#The pride of Piccadilly
The blase roue #

# Oh, Hades, the ladies
who leave their wooden hats #

# For Gilbert the Filbert
The colonel of the Knuts ##

I say, Tucker seems a bit hit up.

So are the ways of everyone,
my boy, who is greedy of gain.

Now then, Peake,
what about the Zambezi Mission?

And what about
the Overseas Bishoprics Fund?

- Oh, never mind about them, Bertie!
- Charles, the Zambezi...

What about the estate?

"I devise and bequeath the remainder
of my estate, both real and personal,

whatsoever and wheresoever
to which I might be entitled...

or over which I have any disposing
at the time of my death...

to my beloved son,
Jack Arnold Alexander Tancred Gurney...

the 14th earl of Gurney,
for his own use absolutely. "

For his own use absolutely?

Well, who's been appointed
legal guardian?

No one.

By the rivers of Babylon,
there we sat down. Yea, we wept...

You mean Jack's free to run
the estate and everything?

Jack'll cheer up
the House of Lords.

Oh, Ralph obviously
let his personal feelings
come before his duty to his family.

Well, we'll just
have to fight. Awkward.

There's bound to be a scandal,
but there's no choice.

"If this will be contested
in any way,

the whole of my estate,
both real and personal,

is bequeathed to the charities herewith:
The Earl Haig Fund..."

- It's disgraceful!
- May God forgive him.

How bizarre.
What a macabre sense of humor.

- But, Father, I don't understand.
- You ask him to explain
before he explodes.

Blast you, there's land at stake here,
Gurney land!

- I'm completely in the fog.
- When were you not?

I don't understand what...

Ladies and gentlemen, the queen's
right trusty and well-beloved cousin,

Jack Arnold
Alexander Tancred Gurney,

14th earl of Gurney.

Hello.

I'm sorry I wasn't here before.
I received the news only yesterday.

I'm afraid our little community
is somewhat cut off.

I hope you'll forgive me.
I know he will.

I've just been to his grave.

Thank you, Uncle Charles,
for making all the arrangements.

Aunt Claire, you haven't changed.

Nor you.

You must be Dinsdale.

Yes, I suppose I must be.
How do you do?

Are you still angry
with me, Bishop?

Let me put your minds at rest.

I'm coming back to take
my place in the world.

The monastic ideal isn't easy.
I've had many broken nights.

But I'm coming back refreshed,
though hardly equipped for society.

I shall need your help, Charles.

Come. We're all one family.
Let's wash away the old sores.

If the bishop doesn't mind,
I think we should pray.

- Pray?
- For love and understanding.

Surely you pray
for love and understanding?

Every night... without success.

- You too, my son.
- I'm a Methodist.

I'm sure you're
still a Christian. Come.

For me.

Yes, my lord.

A prayer should rise up
like incense.

A prayer is an act
of faith and union.

To pray means to ask,
to beg, to plead.

A prayer is a message to heaven.
You are talking directly to God.

Express your desires freely.
Don't be afraid.

I know them already.

For I am the creator
and ruler of the universe.

Khoda, the one supreme being
and infinite personal being.

Yaweh, Shangri-Ti and EI,

the First Immoveable Mover, yea,

I am the Absolute, Unknowable,
Righteous, Eternal,

the Lord of Hosts,
King of Kings, Lord of Lords,

the Father, Son and Holy Ghost,

the One True God,
the God of love,

the Christ!

His Lordship
is a paranoid schizophrenic.

Paranoid schizophrenic?
But he's a Gurney.

Then he's a paranoid schizophrenic
Gurney who believes he's God.

But we've always been
Church of England.

His idea of the world
we live in...

is determined
solely by his feelings.

What he feels is, is.

If my nephew is bonkers, why
the blazes did you let him out?

He's a voluntary patient in a private
clinic, free to go whenever he chooses.

His father insisted on
no official certification.

If you want him detained here
permanently, you must bring him
before the Board of Control...

or get a master in lunacy
to sign an order.

Later, after we've
got a few things settled.

From a medical point of view,

a plunge into the working world
won't do the earl any harm.

Won't do him any harm?
What about the rest of us?

He's not dangerous.
Besides, I shall be on hand.

It'll be an interesting
experiment.

A harsh dose of reality
can help towards a cure.

Cure! You've had him here
for seven years. Look at him.

What have you been doing?

Exercising patience
and understanding,

something he'll need
from his family.

Yes, but why haven't you
used the knife?

Because lobotomy is irrelevant
and dangerous in this case.

He can't forget being rejected by
his mother and father at the age of 11.

They sent him away, alone...

into a primitive community of
licensed bullies and pederasts.

- You mean he went to public school?
- Exactly.

I'm aware of psychotherapy's
messy inadequacies,

but I hope that my current
research will put it all...

on a more scientific basis.

But it depends on my getting
a Guldenheim grant.

Well, never mind about that.
What aboutJack?

Remember he's suffering
from delusions of grandeur.

In reality, he's an earl,
an English aristocrat,

a member of the ruling class.

Naturally he's come to believe there's
only one person grander than that:

The Lord God Almighty Himself.

- Are you English?
- No.

Ahhh.

What's all this, then?

It's His Lordship's effects.
Sign here, please.

Christ.

If I saw a man eating grass,
I'd say he was hungry.

They'd have him certified.

They claim that snow is only
precipitation and not candied dew.

Whroom!
I'm always thinking so fast.

Whroom! Space and time exist
only within the walls of my brain.

Whroom!
What I'm trying to say...

is if the words sound queer
or funny to your ear,

a little bit jumbled up
and jivey,

sing mares eat oats and does eat oats
and little lambs eat ivy.

Ivy, ivy? Who's Ivy?
I've... I, l...

For I'm the Lord Jesus
come again in my own body...

to heal the sick,
the troubled and the ignorant.

I am he that liveth, and behold,
I am alive for everyone.

Is everybody happy?
Now hear this.

I come to proclaim
the new dispensation.

The gospel dispensation promised
only salvation to the soul.

The new dispensation
gives it to the body as well.

Jesus Christ... Mark l...
suffered to redeem the spirit...

to let the body
separate it from God.

So Satan found the place in man
and formed in him a false love,
a love of self.

Explode! Only feel.

Love can sin no more.

Most anything you touch,
see and feel glorifies my love.

Top hat is my miter,
and the walking stick my rod.

Oh, dear.

Once I get started, it's...
it's terribly difficult to stop.

- I'm so sorry.
- No, no, no, no.

It's fascinating.
How do you know you're God?

Simple. When I pray to Him,
I find I'm talking to myself.

I see. Well,
how did it happen?

How did you come
to be in this state of grace?

Like every prophet, I saw
visions, heard voices, I ran.

The voices of St. Francis, Socrates,
General Gordon and Timothy O'Leary...

all told me I was God.

It was Sunday,
August 25, at 3:32.

I heard a terrible thunderclap
and saw a body of light...

like the light from the sun
and red as fire.

I cried, "Hallelujah, Lord.
What will You do?"

And the light vanished.

Blackness and darkness...

until a great brush dipped
in light swept across the sky,

and I saw the diversity,
distinction and variety...

all clearly rolled up
into the unity...

of universal love.

- Where did all this happen?
- East Acton, outside the public urinal.

What does it feel like to be God?

Like a river flowing everywhere.

I pick up a newspaper,
and I'm everywhere...

conducting a summit conference,
dying of hunger in a Peruvian gutter,

accepting the Nobel Prize
for literature, raping a nun in Sumatra.

Under this protective outer shell...

I'm God-filled.

Your Lordship, Sir Cha...
One moment.

- What the...
- I haven't finished yet.

Sir Charles Gurney, my lord.

- Insolent clown.
- I heard that, Sir Charles.

The world's gone mad.
He'll have to go.

Hadn't we better wait? Somebody new
mightn't understand the situation.

Why is he hanging on
with 30,000 in the bank?

- Out of love.
- Love? Tucker? Rot.

There are certain matters to do
with the estate that need clearing up.

Nothing important.
Just need your signature.

- Gives me power to handle odd things.
- Of course, Uncle.

There's no need to read it.
Just take my word.

I take your word. I put on
my glasses because I feel cold.

- Where do I sign?
- Just there.

Excellent, excellent.
Easily done, eh?

"I, the undersigned,
Mycroft Holmes"?

Who's Mycroft Holmes?

Brother of Sherlock Holmes,
you illiterate oaf.

- But your name's Jack.
- Never call me that!

Jack's a word
I reject absolutely.

It's a word I put into
my galvanized pressure cooker.

Whreeep! Jack's dead.

All right, all right.
What should we call you then?

Any of the nine billion
names of God...

Your Lordship will do, orJ.C.,
Eric, Bert, Barney Entwistle.

I know exactly who I am.

- You asked for these, my lord.
- Burn them, Mr. Tucker, burn them.

But great Scott, man.
These are your coronation robes.

A lot of tradition here, my lord.

The axe must be laid
to the root, Uncle Charles.

Pride and riches, pomp and property,
all must be locked off.

Love makes all men equal.

I love you dearly, Uncle Charles.

Keep them,
if you feel so lost.

Join me in a constitutional
before lunch, Mr. Tucker?

Enjoy yourselves while I'm gone.
Relax. Have sex.

My God!

Yes?

No, no, no. Nothing.

Well? You heard
what he said, Charles.

I did.

Destroying property.
All men are equal.

Do you know what
this means, Claire?

He's not only mad, he's Bolshie!

Smell the soul dust from
the lawns and hedgerows.

Oh, what a beautiful day I've made.

Look. Soft thistle and nigella.

What?

No water in days? Sorry.

Can't think of everything.
I'll see to it.

Remember the Sunday
picnics, Mr. Tucker?

The world was all top hats
and white lace.

And the best heavy silverware.

- A snort, Your Lordship?
- Thank you.

If only I knew then who I was now.

Mmm, Mr. Grasshopper.

Of course I bless you, you cherub,

along with J. Edgar Hoover.

This is the first chance I've had
of speaking to you alone.

- Be on your guard, sir.
- You puzzle me, Mr. Tucker.

The family...
I've seen them at work before.

They got the power.
They make the rules.

Back there, they're plotting
against you like mad.

Love cannot doubt
nor faith the mustard seed.

"Plotting" is a word I put into
my galvanized pressure cooker.

Vroooom! It's gone.

Feeling persecuted is one of the signs
of paranoid schizophrenia.

Many poor wretches in Dr. Herder's
dancing academy suffered from same.

"I am being watched," they said.
"Everybody is against me," they cried.

You've set up profound negative
reactions with your Kremlin plots.

I'm leaving you.

Resist it, Mr. Tucker.
That way madness lies.

That's the thanks you get.
He's the same as all the rest.

What he doesn't want to be so
just isn't so.

No skin off my nose.
My 30,000's safe.

And I deserve
every last penny of it.

And more, and more and more!

What's keeping you then, Dan?
Be honest now, Daniel.

Fear. Fear and habit.

You get into the habit of serving.

Born a servant, see.
Son of a servant.

Family of servants.
From a nation of servants!

The first thing an Englishman does,
straight from his mother's womb,
is touch his forelock.

That's how they can tell
the wrinkled little bastard's English.

They don't know about me.

A lot they don't know
about Daniel Tucker.

Just old faithful Tucker.
Give doggie boney.

You know who I really am?
Alexei Kronstadt.

Anarchist, Trotskyist, Communist,
revolutionary. I'm a cell!

For years I've been working
for the revolution.

Spitting in the ox soup.

Peeing on the Wedgewood plates.

# So raise the scarlet banner high #

# Beneath its shade we live and die ##

J.C.!

Bert!

My lord!

Barney Entwistle.

- Tea, madame?
- Oh, uh, yes.

Tucker, what was that song
you were singing last night?

An old German hymn, madame.

"Tannenbaum."

Milk or lemon?

Lemon.

I say, where is the guv'nor?
Ah, is that tea, Tucker? Just the job.

He's in town, trying to find
a way around this mess.

- When's he back?
- Oh, any time now...

if he doesn't drop in
on his mistress first.

Hope he gets things sorted out soon.
It's getting damned awkward
in the village.

- Awkward?
- Well, they expect us Gurneys
to be in everything.

Mrs. Piggot-Jones and Mrs. Treadwell
and all the other old girls,

they thought it would be
a splendid idea if the new earl
was to open the fete on Sunday.

I hardly dare ask, but naturally
you told them it would be impossible?

- Milk or lemon?
- Lemon, please, Tucker.

Yes, but, you see,
I am the prospective parliamentary
candidate for the division,

and I have to watch
my step with them.

I couldn't very well say that
he was "non-compis," could I?

- Well, where is he now?
- Up there.

Look what you've done.

Never get tea stains out.
Show some consideration.

- He... It's yogi, isn't it?
- Tea, my lord?

It's no use, Tucker. I've tried.
He's asleep. Dead to the world.

His body sleeps, but his
divinity is always watching.

Milk, please.
Any toasted muffin?

Yes.

- Shall I bring 'em up?
- No, I'll be right down.

It is yogi, isn't it?
Or a form of yogi?

Don't give me another
headache, Dinsdale.

You look ill, Mr. Tucker.

Bed, Mr. Tucker, right now.

Thank you, my lord.

Welcome, Dinsdale.

Yes. I mean, how are you?

Sometimes my spirits sink below
the high water mark in Palestine,

but I'm adjusting gradually.

For what I am about to receive,
may I make myself truly thankful.

Soon I must be moving on.

Sail away, Lalaha, New Jersey,
Port Said and Crewe.

First, I shall command the Pope
to consecrate a planeload
of contraceptives...

for the priest-ridden Irish.

Arise, shine,
for my light is come...

and the glory of the Lord
is risen upon thee.

# Here is the rag
See how it goes #

# Down on your heels
Up on your toes #

#That's the way to do
the varsity drag #

Piggot-Jones and Mrs. Treadwell.

#You can pass many a class
whether you're dumb or wise #

# If you all answer the call
when your professor cries #

- Everybody!
- # Down on the heels, up on the toes #

# Stay after school
Learn how it goes #

# Everybody do the varsity #

# Everybody do the varsity
Everybody do the varsity #

# Everybody do the varsity drag ##

Welcome, ladies.
I'm the new lord.

- You know Lady Claire
and my cousin Dinsdale.

Oh, ladies, this is a surprise.

But delightful,
really delightful.

Dear Sir Dinsdale,
do forgive us for dropping in.

We thought we'd just take a stroll
out to the manor. It's only six miles.

We've come to try to persuade His
Lordship to open our little church fete.

Do say yes, my lord.

I always say yes,
whatever question.

How splendid!

If you'll excuse us,
we have a lot to do.

Stay to tea.
You be mother.

Go and see if your father's back.

Tell me, ladies, what do I do
at this gala opening of yours?

Do I charm bracelets, swing
lead, break wind, pass water?

Yes... No!

You'll make a speech.

On what text, Mother Superior?

Oh, we leave that to the speaker.

It can be any topic
of current interest:

Hanging, immigration
or the stranglehold of the unions.

But I've always felt the speeches should
be about Britain and our way of life.

- Britain?
- Mm-hmm.

A fly-blown speck in the North Sea.

You can't kick the natives
in the back streets of Calcutta anymore.

Oh, he's joking again.
Aren't you, my lord?

I'm not laughing, Pamela,
and we can't stay here, Lady Claire.

- Then for Christ's sake, go.
- Oh, don't go for my sake.

Oh. Delicious. Homegrown?

No, I bought them.
I mean, they go with...

Ladies, I've decided to begin
my second ministry at your gathering.

Last time I preached the Word in holy
Galilee, I spoke in parables. Mistake!

Now I must speak plain.
God is love.

- Love?
- Love.

As water is wet, as jade is hard,

as bread is life, so God is love.

Mrs. Pamela Treadwell, can you love?

Can your blood bubble, flesh melt,
thighs twitch, heart burst for love?

Your Lordship, I'm a married woman...

Remember the commandment I gave you:
"Love one another as I love you."

Stay back. My husband
is a master of hounds.

Fill your hearts! Let your souls
dance, your eyes sparkle!

Be bird happy!

- Oh, what is it?
- A Watusi walking stick.

Big people, the Watusi.

Ladies, come back.
I'll fill your bodies.

- Oh, I'm awfully sorry.
Have you seen my father?

I am and the resurrection
and the light!

Will you kindly stop?

What are those two doing here?
Who's the idiot responsible?

Oh, Dinsdale, of course.
Who else?

You'll have to do something
about that boy.

Well, he'll soon be off our hands.

Old Barrington-Cochran's on his last
legs. That'll mean a by-election.

Well, what about Mrs. Piggot-Jones?
Mrs. Treadwell?

Oh, they'll say the new earl's
eccentric or something.
Better still, heavy drinker.

Be not afraid! It is I!

But,J.C., look,
I know who you are.

But maybe they don't.
And we... I mean, that is, us...

Oh, let's go and have
a glass of sherry.

Well?
What did Sir Humphrey say?

Oh, he gave me a lot of expensive
legal "fal-de-roll."

But as things stand,
there's no way of breaking the will.

- So?
- There's only one possible solution.

- A male heir.
- A what!

Well, ifJack had a son, Sir Humphrey
says we could easily get him certified.

Because then, everything
would pass to the heir.

We could manage the estate
till the boy came of age,

and that way everything
would remain in the family.

Oh, brilliant.
A small point.

But before he can have an heir,
our lunatic nephew has to be married.

Exactly.
And the sooner the better.

Yes, but don't you understand
that these two ladies
are extremely important to me?

Well, I sincerely hope, Jack, that
when they next come down to the manor,

you'll be a trifle more courteous.

- Now, be subtle.
- Oh, right.

Ah, we were just talking
about you and marriage.

- We think you should take a wife.
- Who from?

I'm sure we can find you
a suitable young goddess.

What?
Oh, most appropriate, eh?

- I can't marry a second time.
- You're already married?

August 28th
in the year of me, 1964.

This wife of yours...
What's her name?

- Marguerite Gauthier.
- French?

- Yes.
- Gauthier. Marguerite Gauthier.

Isn't that
"The Lady of the Camellias"?

You knew her too?
Wonderful.

And that's the tune, isn't it?

Naturally I came as soon as I could.

We do appreciate it.

Your nephew is not married
to the Lady of the Camellias.

He has no wife. But he believes
he has, which is the same thing.

Why did he pick on
Marguerite Gauthier?

Another martyr for love.

His delusions are all of a piece.

Marguerite is the only
person he trusts.

Why does he keep on about love?

Because he wants us
all to love goodness.

To love goodness is to love God.

To love God is to love
the 14th Earl of Gurney.

That's very clever,
but is it the truth?

Ah, don't come to me
for the truth, only explanations.

Can I ask you one more question?

If it's as revealing as the others.

Why does he hate being called Jack?

Because it's his real name.

Naturally he rejects it violently.

If ever he answers
to the name ofJack,

then you know he's
on the road to sanity.

Doctor, how are my questions
revealing?

The first one you asked me
was about love.

This is our Tucker, Dr. Herder.
He's been with the family for 40 years.

Man and sniveling boy, sir.

How do you find
the new earl, Tucker?

By sniffing. He's a Gurney.

A real Gurney.

You don't find him odd?

Odd?

- Soda?
- Yes.

Yes, odd, peculiar.

Oh, you mean nutty?

Yes, he's a nutcase.

Most of these titled fleabags are.

Rich nobs and priveleged arseholes
can afford to be bonkers.

They're living in a dreamworld,
aren't they, sir?

Life's made too easy for 'em.

They don't have to earn a livin',
so they do just what they want to.

We'd all be pretty crackers
if we went around doing just
what we wanted to, wouldn't we?

- Eh?
- Yes.

Yes, I suppose...

The late earl
left Tucker �30,000.

Since then, he's been very outspoken.

Lady?

No, thank you.

Waste not, want not.

Mind having a look at my back, Doctor?

Lumbago acting up again.

Lady of the Camellias
by Alexandre Dumas.

Camille.

It's La Traviata,
the opera by Verdi.

It's all the same woman: Marguerite
Gauthier, a figure of romance.

My dear chap, you've proved my point
ipso facto. A divine figure of romance.

Yeah.

- Well, what a pleasant surprise.
- How are you?

In the middle of a debate
on the existence of my wife, Marguerite.

- Pray continue, Dinsdale Gurney.
- I give up.

You did say it'd be impossible
to convince him, Doctor.

Do you see? It's a play.
The Lady of the Camellias.

- It's fiction.
- It's a biography of my Marguerite,

affectionately known
as La Dame aux Camellias.

You aren't married.
The woman doesn't exist.

Oh, come on! You'll be saying I'm not
God, Christ and the Holy Ghost next!

Well, you're not. I mean, God
wouldn't be so ridiculous waving
his arms around like a maniac,

dressed in a white suit
and a red carnation.

The prophet Ezekiel lay 300 days on his
left side and 40 days on his right.

He cut his hair and divided it in three
parts. The first part he burnt,

the second he chopped into pieces,
the third he scattered to the wind.

It was all a sign
of something more important.

All right, if you're God,
reveal your godhead.

No, no, no, no.

A miracle.
Show us a miracle.

- Here's a miracle.
- What?

This hand...

this city network of tissues,
nerves, muscles, ligaments,

carpals and metacarpals,
phalanges.

And what about
the hairy-nosed wombat?

I don't mean
that sort of miracle.

I mean a proper miracle
like the loaves and the fishes.

Oh, those.

You see ten billion million
miracles a day,

yet you want your conjuring tricks,
your pretty flimflams.

Well, I can't raise Lazarus again.
He's decomposed.

- So bring me that table.
- What are you going to do?

A grade-one Galilee miracle.

Now, instead of raising Lazarus,

I'll raise you a table.

- What? That table?
- Ten feet.

Not with the aid of mirrors or
crippled midgets behind black curtains,

but by the power of love.

- Just love?
- It moves mountains...

and makes the puny weed
split the rock.

Believe in me.

In loving goodness.

Raise yourself up.

Rise up.

Slowly... slowly...

rise up.

One foot... two...

three... four.

Slowly... slowly.

Five... six...

seven... eight...

nine, ten!

There! The table floats
ten feet in space!

I see it!
It's a bloody miracle!

- Drunken lout!
- It didn't rise. There it is.

Tucker saw, believed!

- Did you see it, Doctor?
- No.

Into my galvanized
pressure cooker.

There's no miracle.
There's no wife. She doesn't exist.

She's fiction. Part of a play,
part of an opera.

She's not flesh and blood.
She's not real.

Marguerite.

How dare you bring that woman here!

- You should be very grateful
to Miss Shelley.
- Grace Shelley is your mistress.

- Miss Shelley
is just a hardworking girl.
- On her back.

First you try and pawn her
off on your own brother.

Ralph needed a wife.
He took a fancy to young Miss Shelley.

Well, that didn't work, so you tried
her with the son. It's incestuous.

Don't talk about incest, madam.
I remember yourJeremy Gore.

You went to school with the father,
but you went ahead and seduced the son.

- That is incest, madam.
- Ohhh.

Well, why the hell
didn't you warn us?

No time. After what
that "trick cyclist" told me,

I knew we'd never
convinceJack he wasn't married
or that Marguerite didn't exist.

So I telephoned Grace
and explained the position.

She got hold of theatrical togs
and came down here.

She put up
a first-rate show, I thought.

Well, it had impact.

Anyway, Jack believed
that she was Marguerite.

All she has to do now is convince him
he has to marry her again.

Dr. Herder is furious.

Furious? He's got no right
to be furious. He's not family.

He could make things difficult
by having Jack declared insane
before he's produced an heir.

Damned Kraut. You'll have to keep
your eye on him, my dear.

I'm gonna have me hands full
getting Grace married and pregnant.

What an entrance!
Beautiful, but beautiful!

The looks on your faces!

I should have stuck to the classics.
Always said I had the voice.

Oh, this dress is tight.
I feel constipated.

Your flower is wilting, dear.

Can't be. It's wax.

Careful your husband-to-be
doesn't eat it for breakfast.

You're right, Charlie boy.
She is an ice-cold biddy.

Oh, she's too clever
by half, that woman.

But I get things done my way.
She doesn't know what she wants.

Oh, but I do, Charlie boy.

Lady Grace.
Lady Grace Gurney,

the countess of Gurney.

Now, look here, Grace,
you mustn't call me Charlie boy.

- We've gotta be careful.
- Oh, if that's what you want.

Oh, it's not what I want.
It's what it has to be.

Oh, I'm very fond of you, my dear.

Yeah, well, you've a damned
funny way of showing it.

First you push me into the arms
of your half-dead half brother,

and then onto his loony son.

Well, I'd make any sacrifice
for the sake of the family.

Now, are you sure
you can handle the situation?

Tricky and all, marrying
a man who thinks he's God.

Happens all the time.

Look, there he is.

Well, better get
the show on the road.

Oh, where's me lousy camellia?

Oh, I'll be glad
to get out of this clobber.

Oh! No wonder
she was dying of consumption.

Now, be careful.

Oh, don't worry, Charlie bo...
Charles.

I've got too much at stake
to blow it.

Damned plucky filly.

I say, Father,
Mother's just told me...

that this Lady of the Camellia
woman is just a fake.

Well, I mean, I know thatJ.C.
Is as batty as a moorhen,

but this just isn't
playing the game, sir.

Game? What game?

This is no game, sir.
This is real!

My dream's made flesh.

Sorry.
I don't speak French.

Oh. German?
Italian? Yiddish?

No. English.

English?
Should have said so before.

Nothing to be ashamed of.
Hard language to master.

But we can't play this
love scene with mere words.

Love scene? What, now?

Love isn't just for one season.

Tweet. Tweet.

Tweet?

Cuckoo.

Anything you care for?
The Grand Canyon?

A disused banana factory?
Absolution?

- A white wedding.
- Will Tuesday suit you?

- You deserve a big kiss.
- Not here in the garden.

Last time I was kissed in a garden,
it turned out rather awkward.

Oh, butJudas was a man.

Yes. Strange business.

- Who are you?
- A woman.

Descended from Eve?

No. Doorstep.
I'm an orphan.

We'll be orphans
together, Marguerite.

Call me Grace,
as I don't speak French.

Grace. A good name.
It means "the gift of faith."

And that's what I have in you.
I'm holding you to that wedding.

Hold hard.
You'll be my queen of queens.

I'll be satisfied with
"Lady Grace Gurney."

And I say unto you, thou
shalt love the Lord thy God...

with all thy heart and
all thy soul and all thy mind.

I do.

Oh, I'm happy.
I'm the sunshine man,

the driver of the gravy train.

Choo, choo, choo.

It's so simple for me.

Paradise is just a smiling face.

- What's it for you?
- For me? Paradise?

A fireplace, a cozy room.

- A little nest.
- That nestles.

#Where the roses bloom #

# Sweet Gracey and me #

#And baby makes three #

#We're going to our #

# Blue heaven #

#When whippoorwills call #

#And evening is nigh #

#We hurry to our blue heaven #

#A turn to the right #

#A little white light #

#Will lead you to our #

# Blue heaven #

#You'll see a smiling face
a fireplace #

#A cozy room #

#A little nest that nestles
where the roses bloom #

# Sweet Gracey and me #

#And baby makes three #

#We're going to our blue heaven #

What are you looking at?

- Beauty?
- Oh?

Yes, butJack...
I mean J. C... I mean Bert...

Oh, hang it.
You're still a Gurney.

Now, listen, that camellia woman
is called Grace Shelley.

Close friend of my father's. He put her
onto it, made her dress like that.

It's absolutely ridiculous.
He wants to marry you off.

Well, Mother's in it too.

And I expect old Tuck
knows all about it.

- Everybody except me.
- Stop!

You're making me a stunted dwarf,
a deformed midget, a crippled newt!

- What are you doing down there?
- It's your negative "insinuendos."

- Insinuendo?
- Insinuendo is insinuation
towards innuendo...

brought on by increased
negativism...

out of a negative reaction
to your father's positivism.

I don't know what the devil you're going
on about, but I resent your attitude.

I'm only telling you
about Grace Shelley.

She's my righteous,
ideal, planned wife!

Don't forget. Apart from being God,
Christ and the Holy Ghost,

I'm also an L.O.B.,
D.F.C. And A.D.C.

You're dealing with the big one!

I've told aged Tucker!

Who... Same thing!

Injecting me with his Kremlin
plots, negative microbes!

I said verbatim,

being persecuted
is paranoid schizophrenia!

Wretched Dr. H. Suffered from same!

I watched.

They fight against me.

Where are the signs...

aiming for...

Herder's dancing academy?

I am being everybody but Christ.

No, no, no, Charles.
I will not solemnize any marriage,

even of my own nephew, during
the period from Advent Sunday...

till eight days after Epiphany.

So, Charles,
it must be Tuesday the 12th,

8:00 a.m., private chapel,
o- ordinary license...

Charles, Charles, I have
grave misgivings, grave misgivings.

- Misgivings? AboutJack?
- Mmm.

No, no, no.
About the bride, Miss Shelley!

Charles,
who is she, hmm, hmm?

What is she?

Ch-Charles, look, I fear, I fear
that she may be using this marriage...

merely to enhance
her social position.

I hear that she says she's
some sort of an entertainer.

I will vouch for Grace Shelley.

- Mmm?
- Mmm!

My husband's an idiot.

That's not my concern.

The Earl is no longer under my care.

That charade with Miss Shelley
made me feel an absolute fool.

And I don't care
to underestimate myself.

I apologize,
but Charles had some idea...

thatJack might accept her if she
dressed up as the Lady of the Camellias.

Sometimes it's very easy to forget...

Sir Charles occupies a position
of responsibility and power.

You know he's on the board
of the Guldenheim Research Foundation?

Yes, he mentioned
you were asking for a grant.

It's only a nominal
�130,000 for a study...

of paranoid,
schizophrenic rats.

Charles, need we be so hasty?

Charles,
God, in His infinite mercy,

has seen fit
to cloud our nervous senses.

But he will recover.
He will recover, Charles.

God is merciful.
Yes, you must believe that, Charles!

God is merciful
in spite of all appearances.

We cannot wait
upon God's mercy, Bertie!

Everything is going to pot.
Dr. Herder at least.

- Herder?
- Herder.

- Is he English?
- No.

Oh. Hmm!

We insert fine silver wires
into the rat's midbrain.

- That rat's behavior
is then controlled...

by the strength of the current
passing through them.

By pressing above them and stimulating
one area of the midbrain,

the rat is made to feel threatened.

It attacks any rat in sight.

There's really no threat,

- but the midbrain
can't tell the difference.

Roughly the same thing happens
with human paranoids.

But an unknown area
of the brain stimulated,

and they feel threatened
without cause.

Naturally, men aren't rats.

Only a man would say so.

Our next step is to conduct
similar experiments...

on humans' brains.

I see. Today, rats;
tomorrow, the world.

Who will you wire for vision?

First of all, myself, naturally.

I see.

And if I press a button,
you'll feel fear... love?

Love? No.

Desire. Yes.

What, by pressing a little button?

Oh.

Think of the risk, Doctor.

Oh, there is only one commandment
a doctor need ever worry about:

Thou shalt not... advertise.

My heart...

rises with the sun.

I'm purged of doubts
and negative innuendos.

Today,
I want to bless everything.

Bless the crawfish
with its scuttling walk.

Bless the trout,
pilchard and periwinkle.

Bless Ted Smoothey
of 22 East Hackney Road.

Bless the mealy redpoll,

the black-gloved wallaby
and W.C. Fields...

who's dead but lives on.

Bless the snotty-nosed giraffe.

Bless the buffalo.

Bless the Society of Women Engineers.

Bless the pygmy hippos.

Bless the mighty cockroach.

Bless me!

Today's my wedding day!

Wake up, Bertie!

Come, Bertie.
Get on with it.

D- D-Dearly beloved,

we are gathered here together,
in the sight of God...

Get on with it, Bertie!

A- A-A-And in the face
of this company,

t- t-t-t-to join together
this man and this woman...

in holy matrimony,
which is an honorable estate...

Instituted by me
in the time of man's innocence.

- Get on, Bertie!
- Therefore,

if there be any in this company
who can show just cause...

why these two
may not be joined together,

let him speak now
or forever hold his peace.

Load of British jelly-meat whiskers!
Piddling, half-dead helots.

Quiet, man!
Show some respect!

I always show respect, sir.

That's what I'm paid for.

No one can say
I don't show respect.

Now come on, Bertie.

Now I require and ch...

I require and charge you both...

that if either of you
know of any impediment...

why ye may not lawfully
be joined together,

that you "de" now...
you "de"...

Ye do now confess it.

Yes, I'm afraid
I do know an impediment.

But it's only a rhetorical
question, like all the others
in the wedding service.

Oh, 'tis no good
glossing o'er the fact...

certain Roman Catholic knackers think
I'm already married to the Virgin Mary.

We're not concerned
with what other people think,

especially Roman Catholics.

Get on with it, Bertie. Come on now.

Wilt thou, wilt thou take
this woman to thy wedded wife,

to live together i-i-in holy wedlock
under God's ordinance?

W- W-Wilt thou love her?

From the bottom of my soul
to the tip of my penis,

like the sun in its brightness,
the moon in its glory,

no breeze stirs
that doesn't bear my love.

- Come on, Bertie! Come on!
- Charles, blasphemy.

- But will you love me?
- I will.

Wilt thou take this man to thy...
- I will.

- To live together in holy matrimony...
- I will!

- Who giveth his...
- I do!

- Oh, you.
- Come on, Bertie.

- Get a move on!
- R-R-Repeat after me.

I, l...

J.C., take thee, Grace Shelley,

to my wedded wife.

I,J.C., the holy,
flying roller, the morning star,

take thee Marguerite,
called Grace Shelley, because she
doesn't speak French, to my wedded wife.

Where are you going, Bertie?

- Repeat after me.
- Oh, I know the lines.

I, Grace Shelley, take theeJ.C.
To my wedded husband...

better, worse, richer, poorer,
this day, sickness, health,
I plight thee my troth.

Plight thee my troth, yes.

Well, inasmuch as you
are now bound in holy wedlock,

l- l-I now pro-pronounce thee
man and wife!

God join together, no man,
no man put asunder,

in the name of the Father, the Son...

and Holy, the Holy, the Holy Ghost.

God have mercy on me.

A bit tatty, Jeeves.

No guests, no reception,
two plates of curled up sandwiches...

and a deformed wedding cake.

It's not my fault, Your Ladyship.

"Your Ladyship." That's better.

I'll watch 'em creep
and crawl at Harrods.

We thought you'd like
a nice, quiet affair.

Huh! Quiet's right! And what about
a toast to the newlyweds or something?

- You know.
- All right.

Here's to long life and happiness
for the bride and groom.

- To the bride and groom!
- Thank you.

In reply, I name this ship
"Loving Kindness."

May I keep her
and all who sail in her.

Ah, you should have seen
the late earl's wedding, m'lady.

Five hundred guests,
the creme de menthe.

Wastrels all.
May their carbonized bones rot in hell!

Shut up!

Can't say that I like the idea
of you being alone with him.

You're a beauty.

Everything's yours,

even if you've given it away.

One minute silence, please.

- What for?
- For all the dead books of World War I.

For Mr. Moto, Sisco Kid and me.

Muffle the drums, silence. Shh!

Terrible, isn't it?
That's why I sing, dance, talk...

And love.

# Oh, we danced and we sang #

#And the village bells rang #

# On the beautiful night
we were married #

# Oh, the roses they bloomed #

# For the bride and the groom #

# On the beautiful night
we were wed #

- Shut up!
- #We were wed, Oh, the... ##

Shut up!

Sorry, sir.

Thought you'd like me
to liven up this wake.

- Where'd they go?
- To bed, of course.

I must say, I wouldn't like to be
in her shoes tonight.

It's not her shoes he'll be in,
Master Dinsdale.

I always get first night nerves.
Well, any good performer does.

You have to be keyed up
to give a good show.

I've done it all.
From Stanislavsky to strip.

Greasy makeup towels, cracked mirrors,
rhinestones and beads.

What a world.
I sang "This Can't Be Love."

Funny. Did the same act
late at the Pigalle...

for twice the money
without removing a stitch.

Of course, some women can strip
without taking their clothes off.

Nobody could call me undersexed.

But I could never get worked up
watching some man strip down
to suspenders and jockstrap.

Well, where's the fun?

I suppose some people just
prefer the smell of the steak
better than the steak itself.

Oh, if my mother
could see me now!

It's what she always wanted
for me... the big time.

Well, she found it hard to
settle down to civilian life...

after being in the touring
company of Chu Chin Chow.

Nobody need worry about me fitting in.

All I have to do is play it cool.

I can cock my little finger
with the best.

Darling.

Darling, I'm waiting.

What? Oh, that's ridiculous!
It's not dignified!

Dignity has nothing to do
with divinity.

Not here! Not now!
A bike? You're mad!

- Don't be frightened.
- I'm not frightened.

I just didn't expect to see my husband
riding a three-wheeled bike
on his wedding night.

It's the only way to travel.

Remember,

God loves you.

God wants you.

God needs you.

Come to me.

Damn!

Well, keep pouring.
I'm starving!

It was a damn long night.

All right, Tucker.
I'll serve myself.

- Well, what happened?
- Happened?

Last night!
What'd he do?

Rode around
on a three-wheeled bike.

Filthy beast!

Oh, yes. It must have been
one of the guv'nor's old bikes.

The attic's full of his junk.

So... he just rode about
all night then?

First the bike, then me.

- Mmm.
- His mind may be wonky,

but there's certainly nothing wrong
with the rest of his anatomy.

Mmm, we Gurneys
are damnably virile.

I thought you'd be delighted
to find out he's not impotent.

All right. Delighted.

Delighted.

'Morning.

Well, was it successful?

- I should have sold bleeding tickets.
- Really, Claire!

- How could you ask that?
- Well, it was your idea, remember.

If our nephew's incapable,
somebody else might have to...

step into the bridge for him.

Charles, tell her to keep her sharp
tongue and low mind to herself.

Oh, she has claws.

Look, this is my pad now,
remember?

If you want to keep kibitzing here,
just belt up on the snide remarks...

or you'll
find yourself horizontal.

A position you're clearly
familiar with.

- Look, you granite-faced old...
- How dare you speak to me like that!

- Why can't you look at my back?
- I keep telling you.

- I'm a psychiatrist.
- It's just because I'm on the
national health, isn't it?

Damn money-grubbers...
you and your "hypocrite's" oath.

Wait a minute.

- Who the hell do you think you are?
- Will you two shut up?

It's Dr. Herder!

I've come to offer my
congratulations on the wedding.

Dr. Herder,
this is Lady Grace Gurney.

How do you do, Doctor?
So nice to meet you at last.

You'll stay to lunch.
I want to talk to you about my husband.

- And I want to talk to you.
- I'm so sorry you weren't
told about the wedding,

but we didn't invite anybody
except for close family.

Besides, you'd have tried
to talk me out of it.

And it wouldn't have done
any good. I love him.

- You should have consulted me
before you went ahead.

- It's madness.
- Come, Doctor.

You said he needed
a harsh dose of reality.

Well, you can't get a harsher
dose of the stuff than marriage.

It can't be legal!

It's legal! My brother-in-law
conducted the service. He's a bishop.

What do you say, Lady Claire?

Congratulations.

- Congratulations?
- On getting your Guldenheim Grant.

Yes, congrats, old boy.
I had a word with the chairman,

told him you were a sound fellow.

Sit down.
Help yourself to coffee, Doctor.

You made love to me to make sure
I wouldn't cause any trouble!

You seduced me to make sure the
�130,000 for your schizophrenic rats.

Don't be tiresome.

It's all right.
They agreed to be cut.

See, the sunflower in the center
and the roses...

and, and, and,
and the three sweet williams...

and all bound in Canton
evergreen for loving memory.

And I mean every word of it.

It's so beautiful.
Thank you.

I have shaken the silver
gong of the universe.

Bong!

Oh, Grace, it's hard.

Love is my theme,
and it frightens them,

happiness my gift, and they run.

I try to tie the air in knots...

and make mountains out of water.

It's hopeless, darling.

That's not a word in love's lexicon.

We'll hear the voice
of the turtle throughout the land.

Yes. Clop, clop, clop.

Oh, you fool!

- You fool.
- I don't like
being made a fool of, Claire.

Nobody's making a fool of you.

The Gurneys must have an heir.

As soon as there is one child,
we'll haveJ.C. Committed.

The only way you can change
the plot, Doctor,

is by making the 14th earl
of Gurney sane like the rest of us.

You haven't much time.

Lady Grace isn't the type
to survive the rabbit test for long.

Your Lordship, this is the first
of a series of experiments...

I'm going to conduct with your help.

Ask and thou shalt receive.

Experiment one.

What does that look like?

Is it a dragon?

A spider?
What does it remind you of?

God.

And this?

God. Everything that is
or ever shall be...

reminds me of me.

If it didn't remind you of you,

what would it remind you of?

An ink blot.

Your Lordship, this is a lie detector.

It will give us an objective truth.

Experiment seven.

Your Lordship, are you God?

No.

Doctor,
this machine says he's lying!

For experiment 11, I've asked
His Lordship to visit ward C.

That's where we keep some
of the more extreme mental patients.

I'm hoping they may provide
a beneficial shot.

- But isn't it dangerous?
- No, no, no, no.

I have an assistant outside
and inside.

Besides, you haven't
given me much time,

so I'm forced
to try unorthodox methods.

He's been inside
for about 20 minutes.

There was a lot of shouting
at first, but now... Listen.

#And here we are #

#To make the wounded whole #

# Bearers of love #

# Here we are #

#To heal the sin-sick soul #

Can you believe it?
J.C. Has got labor pains too.

Hmm. It's called couvade.
Sympathetic illness.

Psychosomatic.
Not at all unusual.

Oh, but I never felt anything
when Lady Claire here was pregnant.

I'm sure you didn't.

- Oh!
- Oh!

Mighty Mouse is roaring.

What are you up to now?

A colleague of mine
is sending you some help...

as a personal favor.

Well, do you need us here?

Yes, but whatever happens,

you must not interfere.

I'm going to prove
that it's impossible...

for two objects to occupy
the same space at the same time.

Dr. Herder, Mr. McKyle is here.

- Good. Show him straight in.
- Certainly, sir.

I'll just lie down on the doorstep
and let him walk over me.

J.C., I am going to show you
the world in the hard light of truth.

I am the light of truth,

the light of the world.

This is experiment 15.

Well now,
shall we get on with it?

- Let me introduce you first.
- Oh, there's no need.

I'm sure they all know me here.

Who else has electricity steaming
from his eyeballs and from his fingers?

I'm the High Voltage Messiah.

The who?

The Electric Christ.

The AC/DC God.

You look fused.

Cannot you see the wall plug
in my forehead? Here, here.

Takes everything I eat and drink
and turns it into watts and kilowatts.

Are you saying you're God too?

God the one, two, three,

four, five, six,

seven, eight, nine, ten.

Testing, testing.

Have you never seen God before?

I have, sir. I'm God.

You are not God!

You are what
my snot rag's made of!

I've obliterated hundreds
of dupe messiahs in my time!

You think I'd go around saying
I was God if I could help it?

I've not traveled 20 million
miles through galactic space...

to bandy words with your poxy
moon loony who thinks he's me!

I'm here. You're there.

I'm here and there too!
Do not trifle with me, laddy.

I'm Jehovah,
from the Old Testament.

The vengeful god!

Away... or you'll be dropped!

But you both can't be God.

Oh, you're trying to split
my mind with his tongue!

Away, laddy... or I'll burn you
to a crispy noodle.

You can't touch me!

I'm the rock and the vine,

the goat, the sacred bug,

the upright testicle, the bull!

I saw my son Jamie die.

He had a cancer
at the base of his spine...

and one in his head.

They put the black spider
treatment on him.

They crawled all over,

cracking the body vermin
with its nippers!

I can cure your bursting.

Fire a laser beam into you
to clear away the sick pus...

the sack of pus, the white pus,

the dead fetus!

But first,
I must deal with yon Irishman.

I'm earthed!

I'm dead. Recharge!

This is your responsibility, Doctor,
damn you! If we lose this child...

I say, super news!
Old Barrington-Cochran's dead.
This means a new by-election.

- Not now, Dinsdale!
- Mrs. Darby is a qualified midwife.

- She'd resent me interfering
professionally.
- You're not going on with this!

I won't be able to get McKyle
out again. It's my last chance.

Paul! Paul,
why persecute thou me!

Look, will someone please tell
me what's going on here?

Life, Mr. Dinsdale...
the rich, moth-eaten tapestry of life.

Come on, come on. Quickly.

Right, McKyle.

Gentlemen, it's important to know...

which of you is telling the truth.

If one of you is God,
the other must be somebody else.

I stand accused...

of not being who I am...

the hereafter named
uncontested God!

I made the world in my image,

and I'm the holy terror!

The red peacock is a moth
which only lives two days.

With no mouth to eat or drink,

it flies miles to love,
breed and die.

Consider a life of love
without one selfish act!

And they, and they put me away...

for 17 years!

Only the sick...

with spider's webs in their brains...

clack on about love...

and goodness.

I'm a brave god...

for bashing
bairns' heads out on rocks!

A brave god for strong stomachs!

We are the children of light!

The children of light...

you know, are far, far away.

This is Earth, man!

One of my earliest failures!

Earth is where I dump
the excrement of the universe!

- People care for love!
- We don't want love!

We want a big, fat slice
of revenge! Kiss me arse.

Tucker, you unmitigated stinker.

No god of love made this world.

I have seen a girl of four whose nails
had been torn out by her father!

I have seen the mountains
of gold teeth and hair...

and the millions boiled down
for soap!

S- S-Sometimes God...

turns his back on His people...

And breaks wind...

and the stench clouds the globe!

I am the High Voltage Man...

closer to God than you,

you sentimental clishmac-laverer!

No, no, no, no, no!

The light!
The light of truth!

Here is the truth! You'reJack Gurney,
the 14th earl of Gurney!

- And I'm the cock of the north!
- Eloi! Eloi!

Your family tricked you into marriage.
They wanted an heir.

Paternoster, Paternoster...

And if the baby turns out to be a boy,

they'll have you in a straitjacket...

before you can say another Paternoster!

I am the father...
I'm splitting!

Torn, tear. Crowned.
Coming out c-crowned! Born.

I am the Father!

You're the father of nothing!

One million volts.

Two million volts.

Three million volts.

Four million volts!

Five million volts!

Six million volts!

Seven million volts!

Eight million volts!

Nine million! Ten million!

Get out of here.

Jack.

What?

Jack. My name.

Yes. That's right.
Your name's Jack.

- It's worked.
- Hallelujah!

- Hallelujah!
- Well done!

Jack?

My name's Jack.

It's a boy!

A boy!

Jack.

I'm Jack.

I'm... Jack.

I'm... Jack.

# Over the winds #

# On the wings #

# Of a dove #

#Far away, far away #

# Would I roam #

- # Over the wind #
- Vincent Henry Edward...

Ralph Gurney.

Hmm. I baptize thee...

in the name of the Father
and of the Son...

and of the Holy Ghost.

Amen.

What a pair of lungs.
He's a trooper.

Coochie, coochie, coochie.
Oh, he's a splendid little
fellow, isn't he, Bertie?

A vessel newly-filled
with the Holy Spirit,

though somewhat a leaky vessel.

Leaky or not, he saved
you Gurneys from extinction.

What about His Lordship?

The family came to the decision
some time ago that, after
certain matters were cleared up,

he'd be put away, permanently.

That was before, Charles.
Everything's changed.

I hear he's improved so far,
though of course he may slip
back into darkness and shadow.

Sometimes it's worse,
now he's not completely potty.

I mean, we've all be waiting for him
to go off... tick, tick, tick, boom.

Well, we've all been
extremely lucky up to now,

but with this by-election
coming up,

it's getting too dangerous.

I think it would be best all around
if he were put away.

Be best all around if the bloody
lot of you were put away.

You must realize the battle
between the God of Love
and the Electric Messiah...

is a tremendous breakthrough.

- Yes, but is he cured?
- He's on the way to recovery.

His behavior
is nearing the acceptable norm.

Frankly, I don't know
if it's permanent.

I do know you mustn't
have him committed.

This case could become
a classic of psychology.

Freud's Anna O.,
now Herder's Earl of Gurney.

Call meJack!

And you say he's recovering.

J- J-Jack.

A pleasant name.
Jack. J-J-J-Jack.

Why are you walking like that?

- Oh.
- Reasonable.

I found this in the attic.

- Why aren't you resting?
- I wanted to apologize...

for not being
at my son's christening.

The little devil stole the show.

I must be sure before I make
my first public appearance.

Important to leave the right impression.
When I r-r-r-r-relax.

Overall impression
of superiority and volatile...

Farts! Whoredoms! Bloody network!
Hold, sir. Hold, hold, hold.

How do you feel, Jack?

Lazarus felt like I feel.
Odor of dung.

Liquid, straight, unstable.

Back, sir. Back, back, back.

Be patient.

I'll learn the rules of the game.

- We know you will.
- Well, you've changed already.

You wished to take
a constitutional at noon, my lord.

Thank you, Tuck.

You're a valuable man, Tuck.

There are some here
who don't think so, my lord.

They're just waiting
to give me the boot.

You and me both, Tuck.

You must give them no cause, no cause.

Don't stay out too long, Jack.

Just want to get the feel
of terra firma.

I must learn to keep my mouth shut,
bowels open and never volunteer.

Come, Tuck.

Well, has he changed or hasn't he?

- I just know he'll recover.
- I want him to.

I love him so much.
I know he'll forgive me for what I did.

Well, won't he?

Aren't we all rather
jumping the gun just a bit?

I mean, look at the way
he suddenly goes off.

"Volatile farts a'a duat."
I mean, what was that all about?

Paralalia...
a speech disturbance.

It'd be simpler if a man were paranoid
one minute and cured the next.

Unfortunately,
it takes a little longer.

So what about all this Victorian
bric-a-brac he's got all over the place.

In the end,
it's Her Ladyship's decision.

- It isn't. It's done.
- Done?

I've asked the master in lunacy...

to come down here
and certifyJack insane.

You devious, horrible bastard!

Oh, Jack!

Do you think he's done
the decent thing at last?

This could've been me.

You were waving that gun about
all over the place, my lord.

Not that anybody'd care.

Nobody to weep for poor,
creepin' Tucker.

- Jack!
- Well, I'm not ready
for the fiery furnace yet.

Awful lot of livin' to do.

Girls by the hundreds...
to name only a few.

Are you all right, Jack?

- What were you doing, Jeeves?
- Guzzling. It's your job
to look after His Lordship.

Oh, please help.
I'm stuck in the brambles! Tuck!

- So you're still in one piece.
- Oh, disappointed?

I was only trying to do
what's expected.

I recall, as a sign of normalcy,
our circle to slaughter anything
that moves. All I did was...

You bloody maniac!
I've been shot!

Poachers!
After him, Tucker!

Come on, you devil!
Come on!

Hey, what's your name, then?

- Come on!
- Get me out... Oh, you...
Could, could you get me out...

Oh, Father, could you help me?
I'm...

I know. I had an accident
with an old gun,

a stone in my shoe,
and you still think I'm insane.

- Give me time.
- Time?

There's no time left.

Sir Charles has asked
the master in lunacy to come here
to commit you to an institution.

Naturally, I'll oppose any commitment,
but everything depends on how you act.

Perhaps it's for the best.

If I satisfy the lunatic master,

I'll be officially sane and have
a certificate to prove it.

But Charles has been unwise.

You'll catch your deaths out here.

Odd expression.

Will you be all right, Jack?

What a family.

Enough to send anyone round the bend.

The only sensible thing I've
done in the last eight years...

has been to marry you.

There now.
Well, don't stay out too long.

Charles is a bloody moron.

I'll have his guts for garters.

Soft. Softly.

Down, down.
Oh, let me keep it down.

Pianissimo, damp down!

Damp down!

Down.

I'm a soft grub...

Undulating.

They'll rip me open!
Nail my brain to my skull!

Strom! Strom!

Grunk, grok, crunk! Fug!

Fug! That means you!

Fug! Fug!

Silence when you speak!

Silence!

Steady the buffs!

Waiter! I say, waiter!

There's a moustache in my soup!

Korkshist! Korkshist!

Korkshist! Kork!

I know the price
of every article in this room.

So if there's anything missing,
we'll know where to look, won't we?

Hmm?

Lordship.

It's the man from the loony bin.

He's in the library.

Watch yourself.

Right.

O'er you go, son.

You must be Truscott,
the lunatic fellow.

I'm the master
of the court of protection.

The title "master in lunacy"
isn't used nowadays.

Snifter? No?

You should know why I'm here.

I'll introduce myself first.

Jack Gurney,
the earl of Gurney.

Sit down, why don't you?

I understand Charles
considers me incapable.

And you're here
to commit me officially.

Not exactly, my lord.

I make a recommendation to a nominated
judge and he does the actual committing.

This investigation,
however, is rather informal...

a favor to Charles.

Yours is a confusing case.

Two doctors recommend
you be put under care,

But Dr. Herder says
you're nearly back to normal.

Of course, he is a foreigner,

and his ideas of normal
may not be mine.

How do you find out about me?

You talk... I listen.

Oh. Talk. Judas T-T-T...

T- T-Talk.

Do you still believe
you're Christ, my lord?

Are you God?

Come, sire.
Are you the god of love?

Harrow may be more clever.

What?

Rugby may make more row.

But we'll row, row, row forever,

steady from stroke to bow.

And nothing in life will sever...

the chain that is round us now.

# Others may fill our places #

#To rest in the old light blue #

#We'll recollect our races #

#We'll to the flag be true #

# But we'll still swing together #

# Elsewhere by the best of schools #

# But we'll still swing together #

#Elsewhere by the best of schools ##

- The old Eton boating song!
- I didn't realize!

You're Kelso Truscott. The Kelso, the
greatest athlete the school ever had!

- A long time ago.
- Oh, no, no, no.

When one went to school,
the first thing one heard were
the days of your glory, Truscott.

Oh, dear, one day, apparently,
you debagged the chaplain...

and hit the local constable
over the head with an ebony shillelagh.

Ah, school days, school days.

It's all ahead of you, then.

You realize, Your Lordship,
the fact we're both Etonians...

can have no possible influence
on my recommendation.

Of course, I find it
even harder to believe now.

Now, are you the god of love?

He no longer exists.

I've been raving
for eight years, Truscott.

Eight years?

That accounts for you're not being
at any of the old boys' reunion dinners.

I went round saying,
"God loves you.

Loves you."
I'm sorry there, Truscott.

Embarrassing for a chap
to remember what a spectacle
he's made of himself, you know.

You seem right enough to me,
but these things are deceptive.

Is there anything you feel
strongly about, my lord?

My w-w-w-wasted years.

I woke up the other morning
with grey hairs.

Grey hairs and duty neglected.

Our country is being destroyed.

You're mocked in the Strand if you talk
of patriotism and the old queen.

Discipline's gone. They are sapping
the foundations of our society...

with their adultery
and fornication!

The barbarians are waiting
outside with chaos, anarchy,

homosexuality and worse!

- Well?
- Dr. Herder,

you said His Lordship
was on the road to recovery.

- I can't agree.
- There!

You're too cautious.

For my money, he's recovered.

Oh, it's absolutely marvelous!
Oh!

Oh, we're so grateful to you,
Mr. Truscott.

Thank you, Your Ladyship.
We'll be expecting His Lordship
at the next reunion dinner.

You're lucky this was only
a friendly investigation, old boy.

- We take a dim view
of frivolous complaints.

- Kelso?
- Yes, Your Lordship?

I'll see you out.

Truscott's a damned ass!

- Can't he see I'm right?
- Right?

I've had enough of your "right."

You have stuck your
aristocratic schnoz into my affairs
for the last time, right?

Jack's changed, right? Everything's
changed...you, me, us, them.

It's a new deal all round, right?
You know what I mean?

Right? Right!

You did it, Jack.
Wonderful.

Yes. He's made
a spectacular breakthrough.

We're in the process
of making a new man.

I'm always on the lookout
for new men.

Deformed, unfinished,

sent before my time...

into this breeding world.

I'm cured of fantasy obsessions,
paranoid delusions,

I master words.

L... Straighten up there.

Am... Close up with "I,"
you horrible, little word.

God.

I am God.

Not the god of love,
but God Almighty.

I massacred the Amalekites
and the Seven Nations of Canaan.

I hacked Agag to pieces
and blasted the barren fig tree,

for the day of vengeance
is in my heart.

You lunar jackass,

she betrayed you...
guilty, guilty, guilty.

The punishment is death.
I've finally been processed.

They made me adjust...
to modern times.

This is 1888, isn't it?

I'm Jack.

Cunning Jack.

QuietJack.

Jack whose sword never sleeps.

Hats off, I'm Jack.

Not the good shepherd.

Not the prince of peace.

I'm red Jack, spring-heeled Jack.

Jack from hell.
Trade name: Jack the Ripper.

Mary, Annie,

Elizabeth, Catherine,

Alice, Marie Kelly.

Six little whores,
glad to be alive.

One sidles up toJack
and then there are five.

When they see how Jack's changed,

they'll spread the word, then
everyone'll know he's back to normal.

Well, I don't think he is.

You're just siding with your father.
Well, where is the old goat?

He's back in the library.
Do you know I think he's heading
for a serious breakdown?

I actually saw him reading a book.

I don't understand how you got the
hunt to inviteJack to come along.

Oh, I'm still a ladyship.
Sixty miles out of town,

an awful lot of cap touching
and forelock tugging still goes on.

I gather that the atmosphere
was a trifle strained on your
last visit to Gurney Manor.

Well, it was our first meeting
with His Lordship.

He asked me if I...
well, if I loved him.

Your manservant heard him.

- Why did he say, "God is love"?
- Because he was mad.

- Mad with grief.
My father had just died.
- Talk of the devil.

Darling, you remember
Mrs. Piggot-Jones and Mrs. Treadwell.

We've met?

Why, you do remember.
You asked me if I'd loved.

- Please, not in public!
- I keep telling Pamela
not to brood about it.

Let's have no talk of bestial
orgasms, erotic tonguings.

It burns high-voltage holes
in the brain.

It's been proved in oscillographs.

- My husband hates anything suggestive.
- Oh.

I hear that you got
Sir Barrington-Cochran to speak...

at your church fete
before he passed away.

Made a splendid speech about
the rise of crime. And socialism!

I shall campaign actively for
the reintroduction of the death penalty.

- Bravo.
- You mean there's no death penalty...

in England's green and pleasant?

- Surely you knew that...
- We're a bit out of touch.

The hangman holds
our society together.

He is the symbol of the great chastiser.
He built this world on punishment
and fear.

Snuff out fear and see what follows.

Sons strike their doddering dads.

Young girls show their ankles and bosoms
and say rude things about the queen.

Anything goes, and they do it openly
in the street and frighten the horses!

It's the times.
What can we do about it?

- Bring back fear!
- Hear, hear.

In the old days, the executioner
kept the common herd in order.

When he stood on his gallows,
you knew God was in His heaven,
all right with the world.

The punishment for blaspheming
was to be broken on the wheel.

First, the fibula, crack.
Then the tibia, patella and
femur, crack, crack, crack!

Then the corpus, ulna
and radius, crack!

# Disconnect dem bones
Dem dry bones #

# Disconnect dem bones
Dem dry bones #

# Disconnect dem bones
Dem dry bones #

- #Now hear the Word of the Lord #
- # Hear the Word of the Lord #

#Well, your head bone's
connected to your neck bone #

# Your neck bone's connected
to your shoulder bone #

#Your shoulder bone's connected
to your backbone #

# Your backbone's connected
to your hipbone #

# Your hipbone's connected
to your thigh bone #

- # Now hear the Word of the Lord #
- # Hear the Word of the Lord #

# Dem bones, dem bones gonna
walk around #

# Dem bones, dem bones gonna
walk around #

# Dem bones, dem bones gonna
walk around #

# Now hear the Word of the Lord #

# Disconnect dem bones
Dem dry bones #

# Disconnect dem bones
Dem dry bones #

# Disconnect dem bones
Dem dry bones #

# Now hear the Word #

# Of the Lord ##

- Ladies and gentlemen,
we understand each other perfectly.

Breeding speaks to breeding.

He's so impressive,
Your Ladyship, isn't he?

A little eccentric on the surface,
but deep down sound.

He is so like his
father. Gets more like him every day.

It's frightening.

God's blessing...

and send you a fine, fat fox.

- Join me for a cigar, Dinsdale.
- No, thank you, Jack.

It's up the wooden staircase
to Bedfordshire for me.

Don't be too long, darling. I'm just
going to kiss littleJack good night.

Listen.

Tucker's singing.

You were wonderful
at the hunt today.

I'm still not word perfect...

all the talk of bestial orgasms.

It wasn't what you said.
It was your manner that won them over.

I stand outside myself,

watching myself watching myself.

I smile, I smile,

I smile.

I like your smile.

Before,
I was only sorry for you.

Oh, before, madam.

Before, I was a mass of light.

Mad, you see.

Now I am sane.

The world sweats
into my brain, madam.

Don't keep calling me... madam.

It's hard to look at people
from downwind. They stink.

It's terrible,
but it's the real thing.

I've always wanted
to find the real thing.

- Do you remember
our first talk together?
- I remember nothing.

"Explode. Only feel," you said.

Oh, poorJack.

Why do you remember now
what I said then...

when I don't remember myself?

Because you're so different.

I'm trembling...

like I used to tremble
at shadows when I was a child.

I am no shadow.

I'm flesh and blood.

Touch.

Perhaps I'm not really dead,

only sleeping.

Wake me... with a kiss.

Are you accosting me?

That's right, ducks.
'Ow's about it?

Jack.

Yes?

Are you pleased
this has happened?

We were destined to meet.

That sounds romantic.

More. Please.

Orgasm, copulation.

Fornication,
gangrened shoulder of sex.

Tear, spill the seed, gut-slime.

I know some women like
being stimulated by dirty words
and filthy talk, but I don't.

Flesh lusteth
against the spirit.

Run, Mary, run!

You're talking nonsense again, Jack.

You'll be nicked down
to your bloody membrane, Mary.

Say something soft and tender.

Calves, tender tongues,

earlobes, hearts,

tits, nipples.

Lover.

The sword of the lord
is filled with blood.

Stop talking, Jack.
Make me immortal... with a kiss.

I'm alive!

- What's going on?
- Who's that?

- What is she doing?
- Is she dead?

- Yes!
- Get back, everybody!

It's Jack the Ripper!

Ah, Lady Claire.
Are you quite comfortable, madam?

Stoned, eh?
All right. Well.

Could I be of assistan...

One less!
Praise the Lord! Hallelujah!

Hallelujah!

Yippee!

- Halleluj...
- What's go...

Good God!

All right.
Who's the impudent clown...

responsible for this?

The super had a word with him
before he left. He's a close
friend of Charles Gurney's.

- Tricky, sir.
- There's to be no publicity,
and he wants it wrapped up quick.

We, therefore, commit
our dear sister's body to the ground.

Earth to earth...

Vladimir Ilyich Lenin.

Chairman Mao Tse-tung.

So that's his little game.

Ah, she was beautiful as Taza
and comely as Jerusalem.

And now she's gone,
down, down, down.

Up, up, up she flies!

Her soul flies up.

Surely you believe she's gone
to another place...

to enjoy even greater privileges
than she had on Earth.

Yes, well, I have to, Jack.
After all, I am a bishop.

I think of her so fondly,

n- n-not her terrible death.

There, there, there.
Forgive an old man's wavering.

Lean on me.
Trust God's judgement.

There, there, dear boy.

Y- Y-You make an old man ashamed.

You have been such a great,
great source of strength to me, Jack.

And I won't forget this, my boy.

I won't forget this. Hmm.

Mmm, Jack, you were the instrument
that restored my faith.

L- l-l-I feel reborn.

L- l-l-I found the way again...
the way!

Come, my boy.

Let me walk... humbly,
w- w-w-with my God!

My God. Yes.

How could anything like this
happen to us?

- What was Mother thinking of?
- Not in front of strangers.

Pull yourself together,
Dinsdale.

Brockett, why aren't you
running this animal to earth?

Oh, don't you worry, sir.
We'll get him.

But there's still a few points
I'd like to clear up.

Now, we know the butler found
the body just after the killer
left by the French windows.

And when you came in a moment later,
sir, where was he standing?

- Who?
- Well, the baby's asleep.
What are you lot doing?

This is Her Ladyship.
He wants to know how we found
Tucker beside Claire's body.

- Oh, here, like the hokey-cokey.
- The hokey-cokey?

Yes, you know,
the hokey-cokey.

- Now, why would he be doing
anything like the hokey-cokey?
- He was drunk.

Senile old fool. He should have been
booted out of here years ago.

But he's not the only one you
should check. What about my nephew?

Oh, I think that's rather
disgraceful, Father.

Charles, you've been through
a lot, but I warn you.

I'm not saying
he is involved, but...

But? I'll give you but!

Charles, you're not doing this
for Claire. You're doing it
because you're jealous...

because I love my husband.

Madam, you'll never be a Gurney.

I'd rather be dead!

Is this the way to behave
in the presence of death?

Ah, forgive them, Jack.
Forgive them, my boy.

They know not what they do.

I think I'll sit here again.
Thank you.

Dinsdale, shouldn't you answer
those letters of condolence?

- Nonsense. Let 'em wait.
- No, no, no, no. Jack's right.

Creates a good impression.
Takes my mind off things.

It's been a bad day for me,
what with one thing or another.

My lord, there are still a few
details I'd like to clear up.

Now on the night of the murder,
you talked with Lady Claire till 11:30.

How was she when you left her?

- Unhappy.
- Oh? Why's that?

Damn it, Brockett, what the devil
does it matter how my wife was feeling?

You went straight up to bed
and heard nothing?

I thought
I heard Tucker singing.

Uh-huh.

But he said he didn't leave
the kitchen till 12:00. Odd.

An important question, my lord.
Now think hard, now.

Has anything unusual
happened here recently?

Anything out of the ordinary?

Your Ladyship?

Sir Charles?

Bishop?

Get him, Fraser.

What's this? What are you doing?

All right.
All right, all right!

What's the idea?
I've got a plane to catch.

- You going somewhere, Tucker?
- Mr. Tucker, flatfoot.

Looks like it, don't it? It's
cocktails and champagne for yours truly.

Gay Paree where all the girls
say, "Oui, oui."

- A bit sudden, isn't it?
- I'm a creature of impulse,
Your Ladyship.

You're not going anywhere,
Tucker, me lad. I got questions
I want answerin'.

Now, why were you found standing
like this beside the body, eh, eh?

Shock. That's it. Shock.

Shock.
I'll give you shock, me lad.

- I told you all I know.
- Oh, have you?

Daniel Tucker,
alias Alexei Kronstadt.

Party member number 243.

- Murdering swine.
- Jeeves a Bolshie?

- You're a Red.
- What if I am?

What's it to you how I spend
my leisure time, flatfoot?

You're a suspect in
a murder case. You've concealed
certain facts about yourself.

- What else are you hiding, Tucker?
- Suspect?

A suspect?

This is old Tuck, Your Lordship.

All talk, no action.

I couldn't commit a crime
if I wanted. I'm not the type.

You told me you discovered Lady Claire's
body just before the others came back.

Yet His Lordship here
swears he heard you down here
in this room a half hour before.

Oh, no.
Oh, you're wrong about that, my lord.

If thy hand offends thee,
cut it off.

Say something for me,
Your Lordship.

Tell him you're wrong.
You're the only one that can help me.

Why, you always was my favorite,
MasterJack.

The old earl,
just before he died, said,

"Look after that feebleminded
idiotJack for me, Tuck."

I could have gone, but I stayed.

Tuck, it was you.

Spawned out of envy, hate,
revenge, you killed her!

Oh, Dan, Dan, you dirty, old man!
Inspector.

- Daniel Tucker, I must warn you...
- Judas Jack Iscariot!

You've sold me down the sewer.

You're just like
all the rest of them.

But I know why.

You did it.

You and Sir Charles, standing
there like a pickled walrus.

You Gurneys
don't draw the line at murder.

Upper-class excrement!

You wanna do me dirt,
just because I know too much.

I know that one percent
of the population owns half
the property in this country.

And that vomiting one percent
wants kosher killing,

hung up so the blue blood
drains out slow and easy.

So, comrades, come rally...

and the last fight let us face.

The international army unites
the human race.

# I'm only a strolling vagabond #

# So good night, pretty maiden #

- Ah, it's what I've always said.
- # Good night #

You can't give the working class money.

If he hadn't had that �30,000...

Fancy... old Jeeves.

My lord, I'd like to say
what a pleasure it's been meeting you.

- Well, it couldn't have been easy.
- It wasn't.

But you realized
I was only doing me job.

You've shown me what
"noblesse oblige" really means.

Cut up like meat.

En garde.

No, no. I cured you.

You couldn't turn violent.
You believe, more or less,
what other people believe.

Your job's done, Herr Doctor.
I'm adjusted.

I brush my teeth twice daily
and smile.

No, you call that
being adjusted, hmm?

Behavior, which would be
considered insanity in a tradesman,

is looked on
as mild eccentricity in a lord.

I want to know about Claire.

She's dead, Doctor...
one of the facts of life.

- I know that.
- She's turning to slime, Doctor.

- She's stinking pus!
- I don't need to know that!

Then kindly leave the stage.

- You killed her.
- A touch.

You... killed her!

You killed her!

A swordsman worthy of me steel.

Didn't we meet at Heidelberg?

You killed her!

You were fornicating lovers!
Sperm dancers!

It's a lie!

Lady Claire
meant nothing to me.

Cock-a-doodle-doo!

You killed her!

You cured me!

I was a pale moon loony.
You changed me into a murderer.

- Is that what you're saying?
- Yes.

No! Yes!

- May God forgive me!
- Never!

What proof have you?

I don't need proof. I know.

Physician, heal thyself.

You suddenly know
against all the evidence.

You don't need proof
from anybody or anything.

This monstrous belief of yours that
I'm guilty is a clear case of paranoia.

I've heard of"transference,"
Doctor, but this is ridiculous.

If they ask about me at
the trial, tell them the truth.

- What truth?
- That I'm 100% normal.

Touche, Herr Doctor.

He's right.

He is normal.

It's only a feeling.

I can't rely on feelings.

Everything he's done conforms
to a classic recovery pattern.

His occasional lapses are normal.

His trying to blackmail me into saying
he's completely normal is normal.

Claire's death,

one of those terrible ironies...

nothing to do with the case.

Unpleasant as he is,

the good lord's... himself again.

My head's splitting!

I've had an abdomen
full of the upper classes!

Claire.

I should have specialized
in heart diseases.

Cock-a-doodle-do.

Scheisshund!

He made me deny you.

Cock-a-doodle-do.

Cock-a-doodle-do!

Cock-a-doodle-do!

Ah, good, good.

Only a small item
on page three today. Uh...

- What are you doing?
- I'm still answering
these letters of condolence.

- Damn. Let 'em wait.
- No, no. Jack's right. It's my duty.

Oh, now it's Jack this,
Jack that.

Jack, let's take off.
It's been hell here. We need a holiday.

- Good idea.
- No. I'm taking my seat
in the House of Lords.

A... What?

What, now?
So soon after your illness?

Well, I mean,
are you ready for them?

Are they ready for me, madam?

We're going to work
as a team once I'm elected.

Jack in the House of Lords,
me in the other place.

We think alike
about a lot of things.

That's asking for trouble.

Fine spectacle he'd make,
gibbering in the Upper House.

You're so bloody tactful, Charles.

Look, ifJack thinks he's ready
for them, then I'm with him all the way.

- Me too.
- It's out of the question!

Who asked you a question?

Did you ask him a question?

Nobody asked a question,
so I'll ask a question.

Who is the head
of the Gurney family?

Uh... you are, Jack.

Then don't let me hear you
answering unasked questions again!

Don't make a complete ass
of yourself, Father.

From now on,
just shut up, Charles.

Your brain's silting, Charles.

- Don't talk to me like that!
- It's over, finished.

And stop sniggering, you young pup!

- I'm not sniggering, Father.
- I know sniggering!

Oh, it'll happen to you one day.

Suddenly you'll be standing there and...
nobody's paying any attention to you.

You start coughing,
and your mouth goes dry.

Wipe watery, dribbles away.
It's hard!

Because inside you're still,
you're still 21!

But your feet go flop, flop, flop!

Oh, it's hard. Inside, one's still 21.

There now, Father.
That's enough, that's enough.

You've had a good innings, but it's
milk-rusks and beddy-byes for you now.

Oh.

You're more than just cured, Jack.

You've got that something extra...

what we call star quality.

It will be a triumphant climax.

Talking of climaxes,

you were a lot more loving
when you were potty.

- Do you still love me, Jack?
- Of course I do, Annie.

Annie? Well, why Annie?

Annie, Elizabeth, Catherine,
Alice, Marie Kelly...

- Jack, you're not going off again...
- Oh, it's nothing, my dear.

I have a big day ahead of me.

I'm speaking in the House of Lords.

Oh, don't worry.
It's only nerves.

- You'll kill 'em.
- In time.

Then you'll get around to me,
I hope.

Promise.

Oh, Jack.

Oh, you're so lovely when you smile.

Oh, Jack.

Must get my grunch thoughts
in order, pro and contra.

Well, don't worry.
You're one of them, only more so.

Just be your own sweet self,
and they'll adore you as I adore you.

- Jack.
- See if the car is ready.

Annie.

English pigs!
Arse lickers!

I've done nothing!
I want justice!

I, Jack Arnold
Alexander Tancred,

Earl of Gurney,

do swear by Almighty God...

that I will be faithful
and bear true allegiance...

to Her Gracious Majesty,

her heirs and successors,
according to law,

so help me God.

My lords, my lords,

I wish to call attention to the grave
disquiet throughout the country...

- at the increase of immorality.
- Yes.

My lords, my lords,

I must support the noble lord.

For 13 years,
there has been no flogging,

no hanging and a steadily rising volume
of crime, lawlessness and thuggery.

- I believe that the sissy
treatment of young thugs...

- is utterly wrong!
- Hear! Hear!

My lords, we must step up
the penalties...

by making hanging and flogging
the punishment for certain state crimes.

The criminal must be treated
as an animal.

Hear! Hear!

My lords,

I had doubts about speaking here.

But after what I've heard,
I realize...

this is where I belong!

My lords, these are grave times,
killing times.

Stars collapse,
universes shrink daily,

but the natural order is still
crime, guilt, punishment!

There's no love without fear!

By His hand,
sword, pike and grappling-hook,

God, the crowbar of the world,

flays, stabs,
bludgeons, mutilates...

just as I was...

If... B-B-B...

You... have... forgotten...

how to punish, my noble lords.

The strong must manipulate the weak!

That's the first law of the universe.

The hard survive, the soft
quickly turn to corruption.

This is a call to greatness!

Approach this day out to battle
against your enemies.

Let not your hearts faint,

fear not and do not tremble,

neither be ye terrified
because of them.

For the Lord your God
is He that goeth with you...

to fight for you against
your enemies to save you.

And mine eyes shall not spare,
neither will I have pity.

I will recompense them
according to their ways...

and their abominations
that are in the midst of them.

And they shall know that
I am the lord that smiteth!

You're one of us at last!

Well done, Jack!

# Onward Christian soldiers #

# Marching as to war #

#With the cross ofJesus #

# Going on before #

# Christ the royal master #

# Leads against the foe #

# Forward into battle #

# See His banners go #

# Onward Christian soldiers #

# Marching as to war #

#With the cross ofJesus #

# Going on before ##

# Rainbow in the sky #

#The sunshine in my eyes #

#You're everything to me #

# Oh, myJack #

#The silver running stream #

#The lazy summer dream #

#You're everything to me #

# Oh, myJack #

#You're my world, you're my life
You're my dream come tru... ##

I'm Jack!

I'm Jack!

I'm Jack!

#Hey, down on your heels
Up on your toes #

#See how it feels
See how it goes #

#Everybody do the varsity #

#Everybody do the varsity #

#Everybody do the varsity #

#Drag ##