All language subtitles for S04E13. Too Many Christmas Trees.English

(Bells jingling)

(Raucous laughter)

(Doorbell buzzes)

Milko?

Oh, good morning, Mrs Peel.
Do come in.

I warn you I'm collecting
for Christmas charity

and I intend to separate you
from at least 50 guineas.

Double it if you make
the voce a little more sotto.

- Just an octave or two.
- Oh?

Oh, someone began
his Christmas celebrations early.

- Coffee. Black.
- Thank you.

(Shaver whirrs)

- Whose party was it?
- Eh?

The party last night.
Anyone I know?

It wasn't a party.
Just a quiet dinner with an old friend.

Blonde, brunette or red-head?

Shiny pink. Rear Admiral Keevers.
Bald as a baby's elbow.

- It was just a quiet dinner, eh?
- Wild thyme.

- What?
- Thyme with a "thy". Sugar.

Oh.

I wonder if they make a silencer
for these things.

Well, Rear Admiral or not,
he's led you into an orgy of excesses.

No such luck.
The old boy is 73 years old.

We had half a bottle of claret,
a glass of port and that was all.

- Well, it can't be over work.
- Oh ...

- Steed, what's wrong?
- It's all right. It's nothing.

Don't suffer in silence. Tell me.

It's nothing. I just haven't been sleeping
very well for the past week or so.

- Been having nightmares.
- You don't have a fever.

Must be your past catching up on you.

If it were that, that would be fun.

No, this is terrifying. It's always
the same nightmare with variations.

What kind of nightmare?

A Christmas nightmare.

Seasonal.

I'm standing in a forest
of Christmas trees

and I find a present addressed to me.

I open it and it is me.
It's a photograph of myself.

And the dream finally ends
by bumping into Santa Claus

and he's a particularly nasty type.

It's a simple case
of childhood regression,

dating back to the time
you first discovered

there really isn't a Father Christmas.

Oh, dear, isn't there?

Funny, though. It's funny how
Freddy came into my dream last night.

- Who's Freddy?
- Freddy Marshall.

It isn't surprising.
He's been on my mind a good deal lately.

On? Why?

Secrets have been getting
into the wrong hands.

And do you think he may be responsible?

I'm certain because the secrets
that have been leaking out

have only been entrusted
to him and me, I know it isn't me.

So no alternative, but to suspect him.

I wish there were.
We're old friends. We trained together.

We've been
in a lot of tight spots together.

And in the dream last night
he was as dead as a door nail.

Your subconscious killed him off.

You don't like this assignment,

so in your dream you end it
by having him killed.

- Maybe you're right.
- I should forget all about it.

- Is this Freddy Marshall?
- Yes. Why?

- Have you seen the morning papers?
- No.

(Pendulum ticks)

(Thumping in head)

(Ticks)

(Raucous laughter)

(Laughs)

Steed?

Steed! Wake up.

Glad to see you took my advice –
put your feet up.

I've decided to spoil you.

Caviar, quails' eggs, asparagus.

Your favourite cheese. We could
even open up a bottle of champagne.

Freddie Marshall
had some kind of brainstorm.

I phoned the doctor in charge.

He'd died of a brainstorm.

A stroke you mean.
Some kind of a seizure?

A nervous breakdown
exaggerated to enormous proportions

until the brain couldn't take it any more,

so that it, metaphorically speaking,
exploded.

Well, that's how the doctor described it.

Well, it's over now,
so you'd much better forget it.

Look, I brought your Christmas cards.

Well, don't you want to open them?

- Give me a hand, will you?
- I love opening other people's cards.

See who hasn't forgotten me this time!

Er ... "Come fly with me – Amy."

Oh, "Chocs away – Carlotta."

Yes, Carlotta.

"Best wishes for the future - Cathy."

Mrs Gale!
Oh, how nice of her to remember me.

What can she be doing at Fort Knox?

"Longing for you – Irma."

Eew, charming Irma.

I can remember a terrible time
in Monte Carlo when ...

Who ... is Boofums?

The post mistress at Ongar.

Hm, much more of this
and I shall lose my appetite.

How would you like
to come away with me for Christmas?

House party I've been invited to.
You could come along, too.

- Whose party?
- Brandon Storey's.

The publisher?
I didn't think you knew him.

I don't. Well, hardly at all. The
invitation came through Jeremy Wade.

The fellow who deals
in old prints and manuscripts.

Is he still after your first edition?

It would do you good.

Be delighted.

Good. That's settled, then.
You'll call for me?

Er ...

Yes, yes. About ten.

('Raucous laughter')

Steed, isn't it time you bought a new car?

I'm loyal to my old loves.

Yes, I know.

Wouldn't it be kinder
to retire her to the British Museum?

The quality of a lady's performance
is not measured by her years.

(Peel chuckles)

We go right I think.

No, left. It's just round the next bend.

I thought you hadn't been here before.

I haven't.

Steed?

Good afternoon.
I'm Mrs Peel and this is Mr Steed.

Good afternoon, sir ... madam.

You are expected.

- Please come in.
- Thank you.

Brandon Storey is
a great authority on Dickens.

I expect you would like to retire
to your rooms after your journey.

If you will accompany me ...

Well, Jeremy. What do you think now?

Mrs Peel has just arrived.

And she's brought Steed with her.

It's astonishing!
Martin, she actually did invite him.

Never had any doubt that she would,
Jeremy. That part of it was easy.

- The real difficulties lie ahead.
- You're really going to go along with it?

The whole experiment is pointless
unless carried to a logical conclusion.

Sherry?

Oh, come along now, Jeremy.

You said yourself that this
would make a fascinating exercise.

- And when Janice gets here ...
- Janice?

Yes, Janice Crane.

She's a real find, Jeremy.

Her powers make you and me
look like fumbling beginners.

Should make the breakthrough tonight.

Tonight? But I thought you said ...

I understood that when Mrs Peel got ...

Forget Mrs Peel now, Jeremy.

Concentrate on Steed.

(Hums)

(Steed) Come in.

Well? How do you like it?

It isn't exactly the bridal suite,
but it's very well appointed.

Mr Storey seems very single-minded.

Mm. He's obsessive
about the works of Dickens.

Tries to recreate
the atmosphere of the books.

They seem to have given me
"The Old Curiosity Shop".

You know, I've always
rather fancied myself in one of these.

- So have I.
- Hm?

I mean, I have, too.

(Exhales) It's opulent.

Just the thing
for ... for old-fashioned nightmares.

I thought we came here
to forget about those.

So did I.

But that festive display down there
was straight out of my nightmare.

Oh, well, I suppose
I'll just have to learn to live with it.

My newly acquired psychic power.

I say, I wonder
if I'm a reincarnation of someone.

Like whom, for instance?

Oh, I don't know,
Genghis Khan, Napoleon.

How about Rasputin?

Steed, the Christmas decorations,
how could you have known?

I knew about Freddy Marshall.

Yes. Yes, you did.

- Not here yet, then?
- Hm?

- Janice Crane.
- Mr Trasker?

Thank you, Jenkins.

She'll be here. Don't worry.

Oh, my dear Mrs Peel!

A merry Christmas, my dear.
A merrier Christmas!

And you, sir, must be John Steed.
Delighted, dear fellow! Delighted!

Have a good run down?
Capital! Excellent!

Feel like a drink now, eh? Course you do.

Do you know anyone else here?
Never mind. Time for introductions later.

Good to make your acquaintance.

Seasonal compliments, Mr Steed,
and to you, my dear.

Merry Christmas.

You certainly go
in for a traditional Christmas.

Dickens, old man, Dickens.

Nothing quite like
a Dickensian Christmas.

Try to keep on the pattern he set.

Splendid time of the year.

Renew old friendships, make new ones,
the turkey, the puddings, the holly.

The mistletoe.

(Chuckles) Admirable custom.

- I admire your display.
- Adds the right touch, don't you think?

- Mm-hm. Did you design it yourself?
- (Wade) Emma.

Jeremy, how nice to see you.

- How are you? You're looking radiant.
- I'll leave you in good hands.

Jeremy, I'd like you to meet John Steed.
Jeremy Wade.

- How do you do?
- Mr Steed.

- Found your way here all right?
- Instinctively.

Jeremy, could I have a word?

May I introduce? Martin Trasker,
this is Mrs Peel, John Steed.

- How do you do?
- How do you do?

I'm sorry to butt in, Jeremy, but you did
promise to show me those first editions.

Sorry to drag him away, but we may
not have another chance later.

Go ahead.

Well, feeling better?

Hm, Christmas.

Splendid time of year.

Renew old friendships ...

Make new ones.

- Hello.
- Hello.

I don't see why we have ...

Phase two, Jeremy.

We agreed that we'd progress
to phase two.

It's a bit hard
on this Steed fellow, isn't it?

(Chuckles)
Rumour has it he's a pretty tough nut.

- Can take it.
- Take it?

I thought you said
there was nothing harmful about this.

- I thought you said Freddy Marshall ...
- Died of natural causes.

Complete coincidence
he died just when he did.

Are you sure about that?

Told you ...
made a thorough investigation.

Yes, done a great deal of globe trotting
in my time. Asia, Far East ...

Looking for first editions of Dickens,
no doubt.

Good afternoon, Brandon.
Nice to see you again.

Oh, good afternoon. May I introduce
Mrs Peel, John Steed, Mr ...?

Teasel. Dr Felix Teasel.
How do you do?

Doctor, yes, of course.
How silly of me to forget.

We met ... Where did we meet?

Oh, it was a long time ago.

Mrs Peel, I read some of your articles
on psychoanalysis.

They're very good. For the lay public.

I take it you practise psychoanalysis?

Yes, I do.

Tired, Mr Steed?

Oh, I ... beg your pardon.

- I'll get you another drink.
- Thank you.

- Devilish odd.
- What?

That chap, Teasel, claims he knows me.

I swear I never saw him before.

Interesting case history. All this.

The preoccupation with one man.

Boarding on obsessive compulsion
don't you think?

Still, I believe that Storey's collection
of Dickensiana is without parallel.

Is it true he has
some of the original manuscripts here?

- I wouldn't know. Jeremy would.
- Hm?

Jeremy Wade. Just through here.

Jeremy, I ...

Something wrong?

That's funny.
I ... I was sure I saw him come in here.

Well, he isn't in here.

(Trasker) Tired. Irresistibly tired.

(Pendulum ticks)

Lids are heavy.

Must sleep. Sleep.

Was a long drive down here today.

It was a long drive down here today.

- Do excuse me.
- Certainly.

- Then you are tired, Mr Steed.
- I am rather.

I'll get my head down for an hour or so
and I'll be as fresh as a daisy.

Do forgive me, my dear.

- You look concerned.
- It's not like him.

Oh, I shouldn't worry. Nothing like
a good sleep to refresh the mind.

(Exhales)

(Raucous laughter)

(Chuckles)

(Gasps and pants)

Whew.

- I must have met her before.
- But you've never met her.

I must have.
It's the only logical explanation.

Well, how do you account
for the ride in the Tunbril?

Yes ... there I am dressed
in the rig of the period

and there's Madame Guillotine

and suddenly, swish, no head, no bowler.

Sydney Carton.

He was the chap
from "A Tale Of Two Cities".

"It's a far, far better thing I do."

He had a one-way ticket to the guillotine.

That's it. I saw this, it registered,
so I dreamt about it.

You don't usually sleep in the afternoons.

I suddenly felt tired, compelled to sleep.

Compelled?

I suppose there is a compulsion
to sleep when one's tired.

These nightmares began
with Freddy Marshall's death

and Marshall was betraying secrets.

Well, what kind of secrets?
I know you can't tell me ...

We've been through that. I told you!

When did you tell me?

I didn't, did I?

I thought I told someone.
You are the only person I confide in.

Oh, well, must have dreamt it.

Nearing the final phase now.

That will be your responsibility, Janice.

But first, have to soften him up.

Soften him up?

Hm, Like a military operation, Jeremy.

The last wave of shock troops
before the final assault.

Don't you think
we're really going a bit too far?

What do you propose?

A Party game.

A small charade.

An entertainment will be suggested.

A piece of trickery.

An experiment in mind-reading.
It's perfect, don't you see?

We'll approach Steed.
Get him to cooperate. Actively.

In front of the whole party?

Well, who's to know the difference?
An amusing diversion.

For everyone except Steed.
I don't like it.

You agreed to see
the experiment through to the end.

Look, why don't we tell Steed
what we're doing?

(Chuckles)

My dear Jeremy, that would spoil
the whole thing, don't you see?

When we disclose our findings,
there must be no loopholes.

If Steed knew what was going on,

the sceptics could say that the whole
thing was just a trick, a cheap trick.

- Can't have that now, can we?
- But tonight, we finish it tonight.

Yes. We finish it tonight.

Al right, then.

Is he indispensable?

No, not now that you're here.

- Why?
- I think I should keep an eye on him.

Too many anxieties.

We don't want everything ruined now
when we're so close.

You may be right, yes.

Yes, it won't do any harm
to ... observe him.

(Knock on door)

Come in!

Excuse me, sir.

- With Mr Storey's compliments, sir.
- Thank you.

What is it, anyway?

It's for the party tonight.
Dickens theme. Guess what I got?

- Nicholas Nickleby?
- No.

- Tiny Tim?
- No.

Oliver Twist!

My word, you have filled out!

(Chuckles) Let see what you got.

I hope it's Little Nell.

"A Tale Of Two Cities."

Sydney Carton.

(♪ Violin plays)

Ah, Mr Steed, refreshed anew, eh,
after your little rest?

Yes, thank you.

Whew! Treading a stately measure
takes quite a bit of puff.

(They laugh)

- Charming, my dear. Quite charming.
- Thank you.

- And you, Mr Steed? A good fit, I trust?
- Might have been made for me.

Excellent! Excellent! Well, dear fellow,
the festive board awaits.

Eat, drink and be merry!
But don't lose your head, eh?

Oh!

(They laugh)

It certainly is a festive board.
Lead me to the punch.

Ah. It's a fine party, Jenkins.

Thank you, madam.

The fancy dress.
Who chose to put who into what?

Just the luck of the draw, madam.

- Sir?
- Thank you.

I'll bet my bowl of gruel it wasn't that.

These dreams of yours.
The way the pattern keeps fitting.

You don't think
it was a psychic phenomenon?

No. Do you?

- Well, do you?
- No other explanation.

Oh, Doctor Teasel, a hypothetical case.

A patient has a recurring dream,
a terrifying one.

And when he wakes, he finds that the
fantasy of his dream is becoming a fact.

So he tells you.

One cannot produce one's dreams
as evidence.

Perhaps it works
the other way around for this man.

He sees the facts, the actuality.
Then tells you he's dreamt about them.

You mean he deliberately lies?

Oh, not deliberately. Such a man
might not be responsible for his actions.

A hypothetical case, you say?

- Yes.
- That's fortunate.

- Why?
- Such a man could be dangerous.

Clearly, he's on the verge
of a complete mental breakdown.

(Imitates Oliver Twist) Please, sir.
Please, sir, I want some more.

I was never more convinced of anything
in my life. That boy will be hung.

I'm glad to see
you've got the Christmas spirit at last.

At last?

You've been keeping
your beady eye on me,

as though I'm going
to scuttle down my warren.

- Oh, Marley's ghost.
- I hear you're not feeling very well.

- This preoccupation with my health!
- Excuse my chains.

I feel as though I was surrounded by
the beneficiaries of an insurance policy.

Do I look as though
I need care and attention?

On the contrary.
You're looking very debonair.

I better press home
my advantage. May I?

- Of course.
- Excuse us.

Are you ready?

- Martin, I think we ought to reconsider ...
- Just do as we agreed, Jeremy.

That's all.

- Steed?
- Hm?

Have you thought of getting
expert advice on your dreams?

It's not worth bothering about.

I think it is. I think a chat
with a good psychoanalyst ...

Psychoanalyst?
Just cos I've had a few ...

- Do you reverse?
- Of course.

- You think I'm going potty.
- I didn't say that.

- You're implying it.
- I implied nothing of the kind.

All I suggest is
if you went and got some advice ...

I'm very happy to meet you again.

Again? I think you must be mistaken.

We've never met before.

Janice, I ... Ah, I see you've met
Mr Steed. You're just in time, my dear.

A few minutes to midnight.
It'll soon be Christmas Day.

The perfect moment
to show us your party piece, hm?

No, really, I can't.

Oh, nonsense! Of course!
You must, Janice. Please!

Very well.
Perhaps you'd care to help me, Mr Steed.

- Of course.
- You seem very much in sympathy.

I am. I mean, I am.

- Very well, Martin.
- Marvellous.

Ladies and gentlemen ...
Ladies and gentlemen!

I'm very happy to be able to tell you

that we have with us tonight
Miss Janice Crane.

And she has very kindly consented
to amuse us all tonight

with her party piéce de résistance.

Well, it's very kind of Miss Crane to
provide a little entertainment, isn't it?

Yes, of course it is!

She has agreed to ... Agreed to ...

(Whispers)

(Laughs)

She has agreed to let you challenge
her extra-sensory perception.

Her occult powers!

(Chatting)

Now we must have complete silence.
Shh, shh, shh.

Complete silence, if you please.

Thank you.

First, may I introduce Mr Steed
who has kindly offered to assist me?

Mr Steed will vouch for the fact
that until a few moments ago

we'd never met before.

- Isn't that so, Mr Steed?
- Absolutely, yes.

(Applause)

Now would you go
amongst the audience?

Take any item you wish, concentrate on it

and I will endeavour to identify it.

Will you identify this, please?

- A diary?
- Correct. And inside?

A telephone number.
Your telephone number, Mr Steed.

(Laughter)

This ought to fix her.

Another object.

Er ... i-i-it's square.

No, rectangular.

There are several.

A pack of cards?

That's right. Now which particular card?

Er, one of the court cards.

A queen, a queen of diamonds.

And the next, a black card.

(Sighs)

You must help me.
You must concentrate.

Help me.

The ace of spades.

And the next ...

... a red card.

Concentrate.

Help me.

You're slipping. You're letting go.

(Woman) 'Concentrate.
Let your mind see nothing but the card.'

'You must help me.
You must concentrate.'

You're slipping. You're letting go.

Let your mind see nothing but the card.

Open your mind to me.

Relax.

You're fighting me. Don't fight me.

Relax.

Open your mind to me. Relax.

(Glass shatters)

I'm so sorry.

It's Christmas, everybody!
A merry Christmas!

I do apologise. I ruined your act.

Don't worry. There's always another time.

- Are you all right?
- I think so. What happened?

I'll tell you later. Jeremy?

- Jeremy ... what is going on?
- Going on? I don't know what you mean.

That was no game just now
and you know it.

I ... I didn't think it would go this far.

An experiment, a psychic experiment.
That's what they said.

Who are "they"?

I can't explain now.

- Later.
- Where?

U-upstairs. Hall of Great Expectations.

Martin ... Jeremy Wade.
He's planning to betray us.

(Door creaks)

(Door creaks)

Jeremy?

Jeremy?

(Bell rings)

Steed ... Steed, Jeremy ...

My dear, I haven't wished you
a merry Christmas.

Jeremy Wade is dead!

I've got a little present for you.

- Did you hear what I said?
- Hope you like it.

It isn't to write with. Oh, no.

Point in the desired direction,
press the little clip

and ... bingo!

Full of tear gas!

(Chuckles)

Well, that was a fine party!

Jeremy wanted to tell me something
about what's going on here.

What's happening to you.

My Christmas stocking.

I must hang up my Christmas stocking.

Oh, it's a delightful stocking,
a splendid stocking.

Good night, my dear.

Oh, it's a marvellous piece of knitting.

There never was such a stocking.

Toes wriggling.
That's all I can get an image of.

Toes wriggling in soft, woollen socks.

Resisting. Be all right once he's asleep.

If he sleeps.

Don't worry. He'll sleep.

Dr Teasel, I must see you. It's Steed.

Oh? What about him?

That complete mental breakdown
you spoke of.

Well, it's happening to him

and somebody's
deliberately making it happen.

Oh, come now. Don't you think
you're dramatizing just a bit too much?

No! Come with me.

(Door creaks)

Look.

But it was there just a few moments ago.

What was there?

The body of Jeremy Wade.

Dead? In this chair?

It is Steed who's had
a complete mental breakdown?

I didn't imagine it! It was there!

- It's rather late. if you don't mind ...
- Do you believe in telepathy?

I don't disbelieve.
The mind is still virtually unexplored.

- But until I have concrete evidence ...
- I think there is evidence.

Here in this house.
Steed's been having nightmares.

Bad nightmares. I think
they were specially created for him.

- As for that game we saw this evening ...
- Really, I don't see how.

To break him down.

Telepathy, if it exists, is the exchange
of thought between two individuals.

Or a group. Jeremy said "they".

Supposing a group of people,
each of them telepathic, thought as one.

Wouldn't that increase their powers?

Nothing you've said to me so far
is feasible.

And you've overlooked
one important aspect.

Why should anyone wish to direct
such a fantastic operation against Steed?

Because of the secrets he carries.
In his mind.

Mrs Peel, this discussion's
gone on long en...

Drugs. To make him sleep.
I must warn Steed.

That won't be necessary, Mrs Peel.

We wouldn't want Steed
to lose a good night's sleep, would we?

Oh, the grand old Duke of York

He had 10,000 men

He marched them up
to the top of the hill ...

I thought you might like
a small nightcap, sir.

That's extremely charming of you
and thank you very much.

And he marched them down again ...

Not at all, sir. Good night.

And when they were up,
they were up ...

Good night!

When they were down, they were down
And when they were only halfway up

They were neither up nor down

Quite extraordinarily tuneful.

(Grunts) Ah.

I suggest you sit down, Mrs Peel.

So you're involved.

I'd rather
you didn't discuss that business.

Rather you didn't even think about it.

(Tiredly) Oh, the grand old Duke of York

He had 10,000 men

'He marched them up
to the top of the hill ...'

(Exhales deeply)

He's drifting off.

Sleeping ...

He's asleep.

(Trasker) Good.

Now we feed him our questions.

- Ready?
- Yes.

(Pendulum ticks)

Huh ...

(Grunts)

(Sighs)

(Breathes heavily)

Right, get up!

Wake up. You've been drugged.

I haven't, you know.
I poured it all down the sink.

There's enough there
to knock out a herd of buffalo.

Help them to get at my thoughts.

♪ I'll give you two, O.

I suspected it as soon as I saw
those Christmas trees down there.

♪ Green grow the rushes, O

♪ What is your two, O?

So I thought I'd get into their thoughts.

♪ Two, two, the lily-white boys,
Clothed all in green, HO, HO ...

- That was Teasel's idea.
- Teasel?

Security Intelligence,
psychiatric division.

Where is he now, by the way?

♪ Green grow the rushes ...

- I knocked him out.
- Oh. The War Office won't like that.

Why didn't you tell me?
Why did you keep me in the dark?

♪ Green grow the rushes, O ...

Now will you please stop singing?

I must go on.
He might be overhearing us now.

♪ What is your three, O?

What made you invite me down here
in the first place?

I don't know. When I got the invitation,
the thought just ...

Entered my head.

(Both) ♪ Two, two, the lily-white boys

Clothed all in green, HO, HO

♪ One is one and all alone

♪ And evermore shall be so.

You're being got at. I couldn't let you
know. It might have given the game away.

♪ What is your four, O
Green grow the rushes, O

♪ I'll lay you four, O ...

Did it work?
Did you find out about your dream?

Oh, Janice Crane
had something to do with it.

She was stark naked
with a splinter in her foot.

- What?
- Well, it was my dream, you know.

Naked? With a splinter in her foot?

♪ Two, two, the lily-white boys

(Both) ♪ Clothed all in green, HO, HO

♪ One is one and all alone

♪ And evermore shall be so.

There's something wrong.

(Trasker) Keep trying!

We can't fail now!

(Both) Here comes a candle
to light you to bed

It's a bit uncomfortable, isn't it?

Someone poking around
in one's inmost thoughts.

Mm.

And you can put that in your crystal ball.

(Both) ♪ Here comes the chopper
to chop off your head

(Hissing)

(Peel chuckles)

Danger. I feel danger.

The Mirror Room. Steed very close.

The Mirror Room.

(They chuckle)

(Gunshot)

(Gunshot)

(Steed) Storey? Brandon Storey.

(Sobs)

- You mustn't cry.
- Oh.

(Sniffs) It's that pen you gave me.

- It broke.
- Oh, yeah ...

(Coughs) on!

(Chuckles) See what I mean?

- Yes. Yeah.
- Oh ...

Out of your mind.

- What?
- They are.

Oh ... I'll be able to get
a good night's sleep again.

Sweet dreams.

Come on, then.
Giddy-up, Prancer. Giddy-up!