All language subtitles for S04E26. Honey for the Prince.English

(Explosion)

(Gunshots)

(Clock chimes)

(Laughter)

- You've had too much to drink.
- I'll make the coffee ...

Excuse me.

Steed!

Phone for a doctor.

Ronny?

Mustn't let it leak out.
It's top security.

(Exhales)

(Chuckles) I'm finished anyway.

No doctor.

Steed ... listen carefully.

G-George Reed and myself ...

stumbled onto something big,
important.

(Coughs)

Dry. My mouth's dry.

You and George stumbled
onto something. Ronny ...

F-f-full story, full report,
George's room.

- Evidence ...
- Where is George?

Dead. George is dead.

Who did this, Ronny? Who was it?

Genie.

Jeannie? Who was Jeannie?
Who is she?

H-h-honey.

Ronny Westcott, one of the best
undercover men in the business.

Jeannie.
A woman called Jeannie.

A good-looking woman.
He said, "Honey."

Ring Colonel Robertson,
tell him what happened,

arrange to have the body taken away.

Where will you be?

He said there was a full report
in George's room.

I'll collect it.

"George Reed." Mm-hm.

- And you say the other one got away?
- Yes.

Pity. Still, can't be helped.

The thing to do now
is to cover all traces.

You go to his address.
See what you can find.

Right!

And Vincent ...
whatever you find, destroy.

(Front door shuts)

(Sniffs)

(Glass shattering)

Well, I never!

- Morning.
- Good morning.

Registered package.
Sign here, please.

There we are.

So you left him there?
That was foolish, Vincent. Very foolish.

But I destroyed the files, Mr Arkadi.
I made sure of that.

Nevertheless, there may be
a general hue and cry.

You must continue
to cover all traces.

The honey shop.
Take Bernie with you.

Yes, Mr Arkadi.

(Shop bell rings)

Good morning!
Good morning, dear lady!

Oh, forgive me, I've just been
attending to my little charges.

Buzzing around the hive, so to speak.

- Exhausting work.
- But rewarding.

Rewarding.
Bumble. B. Bumble at your service.

Yes, most rewarding.

Treat my bees like children, you know.

Happy bees make bumper honey.
Yes, like children.

One of them has a bad knee
at the moment. I may have to operate.

- Well, then, dear lady ...
- I'd like to send some honey to a friend.

- You can arrange that?
- Indeed, I can.

Bumble's honey encircles the globe.

Nectar in Nyasaland, syrup in Sweden,
honey in the Himalayas.

You just give me the address
and I'll dispatch post haste.

- How much did you wish to send?
- Just a jar or two.

Which kind? Our six-legged friends
are very versatile.

I have 365 different kinds of honey.

Just imagine, breakfast toast
for a whole year

and never the same flavour twice.

- Except in a leap year.
- Oh, quite so. Quite so.

I thought this one would be rather nice.

Ah, yes. Strength three.
Pure syrup without wax.

Two jars you said? Won't keep you
a moment, gentlemen.

Now, if you'll put the address
on these labels ...

It was sent by a friend,
Mr George Reed. Remember him?

Reed? Reed ...
We get so many customers.

It was sent the day before yesterday.
The postmark was on the package.

Ah, in that case, I wouldn't remember
and you, dear lady, must be mistaken.

The day before yesterday
I was at the Barabian Embassy

making a personal delivery
of my delicious honey.

And this shop was shut.
Will that be all?

Yes. Thank you.

I'll invoice this
and dispatch it right away.

Well, now gentlemen,
what can I do for you?

You can just keep quiet.

Follow the girl, Bernie.
You know what to do.

Behind the counter. Come on.

Come along.

(Phone rings)

(Man) 'Hello? Hello?'

Hello?

'Is that Mr Reed? Mr George Reed?'

Er, speaking. Who is this?

We haven't actually met,
but I am Ponsonby Hopkirk of the QQF.

Oh, yes!

'You made an appointment
to see me at the QQF this morning.'

Well, wonder if you'd mind
making it a bit later. Say, 12 o'clock?

- 'That be all right?'
- Yes, perfectly.

'Good. See you later then.'

Mr Hopkirk, it's extremely silly of me,
but I seem to have forgotten the address.

Beaver Street, Mr Reed.

'10, Beaver Street.'

How do you do?

I'm looking for Mr Hopkirk,
Mr Ponsonby Hopkirk of the QQF.

Je vous en prie, monsieur.

Pardon, mon général.

Mon brave général.

Je cherche Monsieur Hopkirk.

- Ah-ha! Mr Reed, isn't it? George Reed.
- Yes.

Hopkirk. Ponsonby Hopkirk.
Welcome to the QQF. Doubly welcome.

Sorry, but I'm afraid
I'm not ready for you yet.

A little contretemps behind the scenes.
Not in any great hurry, are you?

You'll wait? Splendid!
Do take off your coat.

Ah-ha! Dinner jacket!

I detect a suppressed desire.

Want to be a band leader, perhaps?

Or break the bank at Monte Carlo.
We'll see, we'll see.

Would you like tea, coffee?
A drink, perhaps?

- A drink would be ...
- Right away, right away.

I won't keep you long, Napoleon.
Wellington's just getting his boots on.

(Explosion)

Well, what do you think
of my little genie?

- Jeannie?
- Of the lamp. Service with a smile, eh?

Er, yes. Thank you.

All fixed up, then?
Mind if I leave you to it?

Capital. Excellent.
If you need anything else, just rub.

Live up to our name, eh? QQF.

- Er, quite.
- Quite, Quite Fantastic.

Now, if you'll just excuse me,
I have to go and climb the Matterhorn.

This woman at the honey shop,
what was her name?

Don't know,
but she was talking about Reed.

- Bernie's following her?
- Mm.

That was right, wasn't it?

Perfectly right, my dear Vincent.

- He knows what to do, of course?
- Oh, yes, Mr Arkadi.

He knows what to do.

(Doorbell rings)

(Gunshot)

(Gunshot)

(Hopkirk) Goodbye! Goodbye!

We'll climb Everest next week.

Now then, gentlemen ...
Napoleon, everything's ready for you.

Waterloo room, end of the corridor.

Mr Prentice,
what was it for you today?

Indian wars? A stagecoach ride?

Of course, Gunfight at the OK Corral.
Third door on the right.

You'll find them all ready
and waiting to ambush you.

Mr Reed, sorry you've been kept waiting,
but now you have my undivided attention.

So tell me,
what can the QQF do for you?

I should like to know
a little more about it.

You haven't received
our advertising literature?

Oh, dear. How remiss of me.

The QQF,
the Quite, Quite Fantastic Incorporated,

can help you quite simply
to satisfy your most repressed desires.

In a nutshell, Mr Reed,

we will create your fantasies
and let you live them.

- Tea and honeyed muffins?
- Honeyed?

- Jam or treacle?
- No, thank you.

It all began with the Arabian Nights ...

... the QQF.

Yes, as a boy, I was fascinated
by the tales of the Arabian Nights.

I would dream of living
in an exotic era.

Then one day I thought, "Why dream?
Why not make my dreams a reality?"

After that it was easy.

A matter of the decor,
the right atmosphere, a few tricks.

This, for example.

Rubbing it sets up an electronic impulse
that rings a bell in the cellar.

My little genie pops up
through a trap door in the floor.

Just a theatrical trick,
but a very effective one, don't you think?

Very.

Then I began to think
of the commercial possibilities.

Creating other people's
dreams and fantasies

and so the QQF was born.

Within these portals, Mr Reed,

you can stand beside Nelson
at Trafalgar,

fight with General Custer,

become Genghis Khan,
a Roman emperor,

heavyweight champion,
ruler of the world!

A million dreams made to order!

Fantasies created
with a few simple tricks

such as you have already seen.

(Door opens)

Don't worry, old man.

Better luck next time.

Now, Mr Reed, your own fantasy.

Might I suggest an intrepid trapper

or a cavalryman at Balaclava
riding into the Valley of Death?

Well, I thought that I might ...

Got it. You're a secret agent.

Yes, indeed. Ideal for you.

A licence to kill, pitting your wits
against a diabolical mastermind.

Make a change from
your everyday humdrum existence.

Yes, certainly make a change.

But no doubt you have
a fantasy of your own.

- I'd like the same as Ronny Westcott.
- Hm?

Ronald Westcott.
He is a client of yours?

Mr Westcott ... Here just the other day.
Haven't heard from him since.

Unavoidably detained, but whatever
you've fixed up for him, fine for me.

- I would hardly think that ...
- You did create a fantasy for him?

I was working on it, yes,
but I wouldn't have thought it was you.

Oh, no, no! Whatever's good enough
for Ronny is good enough for me.

Very well.
I'll let you know when it's arranged.

Fine. What is it to be?

The fantasy? What am I to be?

Chief eunuch in a harem.

Colonel Robertson? Steed here.

Did Mrs Peel call and tell you
about the body in my apartment?

She did?

Well, will you have it removed
right away, please? It's very untidy.

You already have?

Hold on, Colonel.

I'm most terribly sorry, Colonel.
It's another body entirely.

Yes, a different one.

I'm not responsible for what happens
in my apartment when I'm not in it!

Of course I'm not trying to corner
the market! And furthermore ...

(Colonel hangs up)

(Sighs)

(Peel) 'Steed, sorry about the body,'

'but he was too big
to sweep under the carpet.'

'Nothing on him to identify him,'

'but I saw him earlier today
at B Bumble & Co.'

'That's a honey shop by the way.'

'I'll tell you all about it later.
Must buzz back to Bumble's.'

'Message ends.'

(Shop bell rings)

Mr Bumble ...

Mr Bumble! Hey!

Well, Vincent?
What has happened to Bernie?

He should've reported back by now.
He ought to have dropped ...

"He should"? "He Ought"?

Been better if you had attended
to the girl yourself.

We shall give him one hour.
No more.

Then we must presume the worst
and act accordingly.

The QQF?

- You're due there soon, aren't you?
- Mm-hm.

Well, hurry up, my dear Vincent.

You mustn't miss
your third fantasy, must you?

Well, Mrs Peel, I've given you
a general outline of the service I offer.

What can I add?

My readers would be interested
in more specific cases.

Hm ... Hm.

This interest from the press is
most gratifying. Most specific cases ...

Well, I suppose my most fantasy
to date was the sinking the Titanic.

Several of my staff people had
to be resuscitated afterwards.

Then there was Hannibal crossing
the Alps, an assassination ...

(Coughs)

- Riding a Derby winner.
- An assassination?

Yes, had several of those.
Very difficult to set up.

How do you go about
an assassination?

Hm ... first, we allow our client
to select his victim,

a real person, a VIP perhaps
or an eminent businessman.

Then we provide our client with this,

and get him in a position to use it.

We allow him to actually get his victim

into his sights and then ...

Then?

(Trigger clicks)

He has a fine photograph
to commemorate the occasion.

Camera gun. Helps him to get something
out of his system and nobody gets hurt.

I see.

Now, Mr Hopkirk, if I could know
a bit more about your clients ...

- Clients?
- Vincent East, for example.

He is a client of yours?

Mrs Peel, I'm afraid
I'm unable to discuss individuals,

ethics of my business,
my lips are sealed.

- But surely ...
- I must insist.

- Well, thank you anyway.
- Not at all, Mrs Peel.

And if ever you should wish to join
the QQF ... A fantasy, perhaps?

No, thank you,
I haven't yet exhausted reality.

Pity.

Hello.

Ah, Mr Vincent!
Ready for your third fantasy?

In a nice murderous mood,
are we?

Telephone.

QQF? May I speak
to Mr East, please?

Vincent, bad news.
Bernie has not returned.

Well, of course I know
what that means!

You'll have to kill Hopkirk.

- You know what?
- What?

- We're getting nowhere fast.
- There's the honey.

There has to be a link.
Why would Reed have sent it to you?

Because ... I don't know.

One thing is certain, Reed and Westcott
weren't killed for a jar of honey.

- Then there's QQF.
- Quite, Quite Fantastic.

That's turned out to be a dead end.
So what was Ronny doing there?

- I can understand the harem bit, but ...
- Harem?

That was part
of the fantasy Ronny ordered.

Harem ... And Bumble said something
about the Barabian Embassy.

He made a delivery there.

Barabian Embassy,
harem, two agents killed.

(Both) Snap!

(Peel) Hopkirk sometimes
dreams up an assassination.

(Hopkirk) Now let's rehearse it again.

I am the Crown Prince Ali

and you, his murderer,
are concealed say ... here.

I am perhaps enjoying
a quiet smoke.

You have not revealed yourself yet.

The moment of surprise has yet to come.

You hold your gun at the ready.

The gun, Vincent. The gun.

Now then ...
you'll choose your moment well.

And then up you pop!

No, no, man.
You're not putting enough into it.

You won't get any satisfaction
out of your fantasy

unless you put something into it.

Think! Think murderously!

Your expression, your whole attitude
is too bland, too unconvincing.

You wouldn't frighten a fly off a wall.
Get a firm grip on your gun.

Higher.

Point it at me!

Here!

No, that's not very good.

You won't get anywhere
unless you concentrate.

Fix me with your eye
and think to yourself,

"I am going to kill him."

"I am going to kill him!"

Much better! Much more ...

(Gunshot)

... realistic.

(Chuckles)

Fantastic. Quite, Quite Fantastic.

Hopkirk, you've arranged
another fantasy, haven't you?

One too many, I'm afraid.

I mean the assassination
of Prince Ali.

When's it to take place?

- Tonight.
- How?

Too late.

Splendid. Quite splendidly detailed.

No doubt if we follow
these instructions,

you'll be able to penetrate the security
of the Barabian Embassy

and then our task is over.

Hopkirk certainly knows his business.

Knew his business.

As you say, my dear Vincent.
As you say.

Go to the Prince and tell him there's
to be an attempt on his life tomorrow.

We can't possibly do that.
You know why he's here?

To sign over oil concessions
in our favour.

In return for which, we give
his country full military protection.

Well?

He won't have confidence in our military
if we can't even protect him.

One man in our own country?

I wonder what weapon
the assassin will use?

A gun, knife, rope ... Poison?

I was thinking of the honey.
It's important somehow.

Well, he'd have to be
within tasting distance to do that.

Prince Ali won't step outside
the embassy once he's arrived.

So the killer has to get smuggled in
or be there.

But he has to be
in the embassy somehow.

And so do I.

I pray pardon for this intrusion,
Your Majesty.

(Prince Ali) What is it, Grand Vizier?

An effendi from the British Government,
O High and Most Gracious one.

He begs to be admitted
to your most illustrious presence.

Is he to be trusted?

His credentials have been checked
once, twice and thrice times over,

O High and Mighty one.

His person has been searched
for offensive weapons.

I, who am a mere speck
on the camel's back,

a poor, lowly, ignorant toad
in your most all-seeing eyes,

think he can be trusted.

Let him be admitted.

At once, pearl of all wisdom,
with all speed.

Enter with head lowered.

Do not speak until His Royal Highness
has addressed you.

Effendi Steed, Your Royal Highness.

(Gong strikes)

Hat off!

Head lowered.

What is your business, Mr Steed?

A social call, Your Majesty.

I with the Ministry of ...

... of Eastern affairs.

We merely wish to ensure that you
are enjoying your stay in this country.

We thank you.

You may gaze upon the royal
and most noble features.

On behalf of my peoples
in my country,

I, Ali Mortashan Gubran,
Crown Prince of Barabia,

defender of the faith,
soother of all souls,

lighter of dark corners,
fountain of wisdom, welcome thee.

Vizier?

- I say, do you play cricket?
- Yes, I do, but ...

- Bowler or batsman?
- A bit of an all-rounder.

Jolly good.
Keep an eye out for the vizier.

Come on! At the double!

Mr Steed.

Now Henry, mid-on.
Herbert, short leg.

Flory, first slip.
Ethel, second slip.

Field all right for you, Mr Steed?

Thank you, Your Majesty,
but I'd prefer Flory at silly mid-on.

Right.

- What'll it be?
- Little in leg.

That's just about right.

Thank you, Flory

Come on, old boy.
Keep 'em coming.

That's a royal command!

That's right, my dear. Keep me cool.

I enjoy the ultraviolet,
but not the heat.

Just here and here.

Oh ... splendid! Quite splendid.

- I'm ready to go.
- Nothing overlooked?

No. Except the payoff.

Hm.

Half now.
Half when the job is finished.

Those were the agreed terms.

Yes.

But when you said half,
I expected ... I thought ...

We must trust one another,
my dear Vincent.

We really must.

And take your time about it.

A sure aim.

And one nice, big bang.

(Tuts)

Well, I think a break for tea
is clearly indicated.

- Would you like some tea, Mr Steed?
- Thank you.

You summoned me,
O Great and High One?

I did. Tea for myself
and my guests, Vizier.

Instantly, Your Royal Highness.

Well, that is service.

Oh, we don't stand
for any laxness, you know.

If any of them gets idle,
we chop off a few of their toes.

Gingers them up no end.
They're a couple of my wives.

That's number four.

Ah, number 33.

Charming girl.
Cost me a bag of salt and four goats.

I've got lots more out the back.

- Goats?
- Wives.

Got to have a lot of them.
A matter of status, you see.

- What was it at the last count?
- 320, Your Royal Highness.

Ah, I can see your European eyes
flashing at the prospect.

But have you ever paused to consider
that a man with 320 wives

also acquires 320 mothers-in-law?

- That's a very sobering thought.
- Very.

Now then, I'll have one of those
and, ah, yes, one of those.

Yes, Your Royal Highness.

No discomfort?

No, Your Royal Highness.

Not even the slightest twinge?

- No, Your Royal Highness.
- He tastes everything before me.

There's always someone trying
to pop me off. Got to be careful.

You, Mr Steed? What'll you have?

Well, you don't seem to have any honey.

Honey? Personally, I loathe the stuff.

- But if that's what you want ...
- Please don't bother. This is fine.

So you don't take to it, honey?

Never touch the stuff.
Far too sweet for my taste.

But my wives love it. I've had to order
loads of the stuff while I'm here.

- From B Bumble & Company?
- That's right.

40 jars of the stuff.
Another three truckloads this afternoon.

Three trucks for 40 jars this size?

It wasn't that size, old boy.

More that size. 40 man-size jars.

- Man-size? May I see them?
- They're all out there.

Oh, well, in that case,
I'm sure Your Majesty won't mind ...

That's quite impossible, Mr Steed.
You can't go in there.

No man can except me.
You see, that is my harem.

It suits you.
Brings out the colour of your eyes.

No!

But Mrs Peel, only a woman has
a chance of getting into a harem.

I absolutely refuse.

But the assassin will be there,
I'm sure of it, hidden in a honey jar.

No, Steed.

Well, if Prince Ali gets murdered,
you'll have to go through life thinking,

"if only I'd helped, a human life ..."

"Would've been saved."
Tell me the worst.

The Prince has invited me
to dinner tonight.

- And you're taking a guest along?
- Well, not a guest exactly.

Tell me, Mrs Peel, what size
do you take in Turkish trousers?

To the last lace hole.

(Inhales) Try now!

(Exhales)

Ah, that's better. Much better.

Haha! I'm afraid
I won't be able to smuggle that in.

The search is too rigorous.

It should be quite a night ...
Quite a night.

For you, because you're my friend
and have found favour in my eyes.

Thank you.

It is the left eye of a mountain rat.
A very rare delicacy.

I also have gift for you.

'Scott Gordon is at the wicket, surveying
the field with that marvellous eye of his.'

'Fiennes-Barnes bowls,
Scott plays a terrific hook.'

'And it's gone for six! A six!'

'Oh, no he's caught at the boundary.
He's out! Scott's out for a duck!'

- Oh ...
- Full commentary of the last test match.

That is kind. Most kind!

We are pleased to accept.

It's a twin track.

Press the other side
and you get this.

(♪ Arabic music playing)

Oh, that is charming!
Makes me quite homesick.

Now quite apart from that,
we have some entertainment.

Your Highness,
may I present my compliments?

Arkadi, nice to see you again.

It was most gracious of you
to invite me, sir.

I trust Your Highness
is in excellent health.

Indeed. Do sit down.
Mr Steed, may I present Mr Arkadi?

He's a rival of yours, Arkadi.
Mr Steed is with the British Government.

Oh, congratulations.
You beat us to it.

- Oh?
- The oil concessions.

My government hoped to obtain them
in exchange for our military protection.

Mr Steed was about to arrange
some entertainment for us.

So I was.

Your Majesty,
with your permission, may I present

the lustrous, luminous,
star of the East, Emma?

(Gong strikes)

(♪ Arabic music playing)

Merhaba, merhaba.

Six veils. I counted only six.
There's one to go.

She was poorly educated,
Your Majesty.

Alas, she cannot count.

- I would speak with this woman.
- Certainly, Your Majesty.

What's your party term?
"Giselle"?

Shh! We don't want to offend
the effendi.

Your Majesty, Emma.

(Speaks Arabic)

Here, woman. Sit here.

Excuse me.

(Slurps)

A shy one.

But not much ...

You say?

Retarded, Your Majesty.

Definitely what you'd call retarded.

(Gurgles)

Nevertheless ... I offer 12 goats.

Well, it's a great deal
for just a woman.

(Slurps)

But I've taken a fancy to her.
Yes ... Yes, I will buy her from you.

But Your Majesty,
I couldn't possibly ...

It seems, Your Majesty, that the British
have no respect for your wishes.

If it were my government ...

Your Majesty, I couldn't possibly accept,
well, any goats for her.

Well, not the even the tiniest nanny.

If you like her, you take her.
She's yours. I give her to you.

You can put her into your harem
any time you like.

(Slurps)

It is agreed, then.

(Coughs)

Go with him, woman.
I shall be along later.

Your Majesty, tell me more
about your camels.

I fear we are detaining His Majesty.

His Majesty is anxious to retire.

- Yes, I ...
- But the evening is young!

And so entertaining.

But another entertainment
awaits His Majesty.

Hm?

Your Majesty, did I tell you about
a cricket match I played in Rawalpindi?

(Yawns) I am rather tired.

- I fear you were right, Arkadi.
- In that case, I'll ...

I think I'll cut along now.

- But Your Majesty, I was going to ...
- No need for you to rush off.

Stay on and enjoy yourselves.

But Your Majesty ...

Excuse me.

Emma? Emma?

Little Star of the East?
This is Saturday.

Your prince is here, Emma.

Emma ...

Emma!

My patience is running thin, Emma!

Show yourself, woman!

Emma!

(Pots shattering)

The Prince is renowned
for his ardour.

(Grunting)

Get back, woman!
It's a man! None must look!

No ... no, it was Arkadi's idea.
Not me.

Arkadi's the man you want.

- Where's Arkadi?
- Gone.

- Well?
- Don't worry. I know where to find him.

My friend, I don't know
what it's all about,

but clearly you've saved my life.

Anything I have is yours, my horses,
my jewels, my favourite wife.

Steed ...

I'll throw in a goat or two, as well.

Well done.

(Banging)

Steed?

(Banging)

It's quite nice. Though I think
I prefer the old automobile.

Ah, the dear old girl,
but I can never resist a bargain.

They threw in two-dozen goats,
as well.

- Nannies, of course.
- Of course.

And it has extra advantages.

It's very quiet, easy to run,
floats way above the traffic jams.

Just one thing, though. Brakes?

How do you stop it?

That's a very good question.