All language subtitles for jeeves.and.wooster.s02e01.720p.bluray.x264-ingot

Brother Blackshorts,
as I stand before you tonight,

we are on the brink of victory!

Our policies are clear,
our policies are just,

our policies are fully laid out
in my book, Whither England,

priced 3/6 from all good booksellers.

Our policies are...

One. The right, nay, the duty
of every free-born Englishman

to grow his own potatoes!

Two. An immediate ban
on the import of foreign root vegetables

into the United Kingdom!

And three. The compulsory scientific
measurement of all adult male knees.

Not for the true-born Englishman
the bony, angular knee

of the so-called intellectual.

Not for him the puffy knee
of the criminal classes.

The British knee is firm,
the British knee is muscular,

the British knee is on the march!

Hail Spode!

Good evening, sir.

An excellent rally, excellent.
A dozen new recruits to the cause.

Oh, that's good, er, isn't it?

I'm sorry you weren't there, Watkyn.

One had hoped
for one's best friends' support

in the task of rebuilding Britain.

Yes, I'm sorry too. Me night for
cataloguing me sliver collection.

Your collection
cannot control your life, Watkyn.

You must come with me next Thursday

when I address the Eagle Battalion
at Minchinhampton.

Yes, er, yes, very possibly.

- I shall now retire.
- We catch the 9:30 tomorrow, remember.

- Oh, yes, yes. Good night, Stephanie.
- Good night.

- Good night, little Madeline.
- Good night.

His knees.

Come on, Bertie!

Well, this is a happy occasion,
old Gussie getting engaged.

Still, I expect he knows what he's doing.

No, but a good egg, Gussie,
as we all know,

and a persuasive man with a newt.

But I've always said Gussie and Madeline
are made for each other.

- Like kippers and marmalade.
- Hear, hear.

And I'm sure we all wish them many
happy years together over the newt tank.

- So, Gussie and Madeline.
- Gussie and Madeline.

A most satisfactory binge, last night.

I'm delighted to hear so, sir.
Was Mr Fink-Nottle in good spirits?

Poor devil! The sands are running out
for Gussie Fink-Nottle, Jeeves,

he'll shortly have
Sir Watkyn Bassett as a father-in-aw.

He's the blighter who fined me £56
for pinching a policeman's helmet.

Perhaps Sir Watkyn
is not so formidable in private life, sir.

I doubt it. Slice him where you like,
a hell-hound is always a hell-hound.

That the papers you've got?

No, sir, it is some literature
from the round-the-world-cruise bureau.

- I thought you might care to glance at it.
- Jeeves, this nuisance must now cease.

Travel is highly educational, sir.

I cannot do with any more education,
I was full up years ago.

No, it's that old Viking strain of yours
coming out again.

You yearn for the tang of salt breezes,

see yourself on deck in a yachting cap,

possibly, you've heard tell
of the dancing girls of Bali.

I understand and I sympathise,
but not for me.

No, I refuse to be decanted
into some blasted ocean-going liner

and lugged off round the world.

Very good, sir.

You must understand, Jeeves,
that when two men of iron will

live in close association,
there are bound to be odd clashes.

- Very good, sir.
- We'll say no more about it. Any letters?

No, sir. One telephone communication,
however, from Mrs Travers -

she will be visiting us directly.

Oh? I wonder what she...

- Is it awake yet?
- Ah, what ho, Aunt Dahlia?

I want you to go to an antique shop
in Bond St and sneer at a cow-creamer.

- Do what at a what?
- It's sliver,

a sort of 18th-century cream jug
in the shape of a cow.

Well, sounds dashed unpleasant to me.

Doesn't matter what you think, to your
Uncle Tom it's the cat's nightwear.

It's the only one
left in the country, apparently.

Go there, ask them to show it to you,
and when they do, register scorn.

This'll sow misgivings in their minds
and they can tip the price a bit.

Your Uncle Tom's
having a bad time with his collection.

Everything he tries to buy, that blasted
Watkyn Bassett pips him at the post.

If he can get this thing cheaply,
it may save him from an early grave.

One of your wonderful ideas, Jeeves?

If Mr Wooster could imply that the object
is of modern Dutch manufacture,

the vendor might be the more inclined
to lower his ambitions.

Why Dutch?

The Dutch, sir,
while an admirable people in many ways

and renowned for domestic hygiene,
are not considered of the first rank

in matters of Argentine craftsmanship.

Well, you heard what Jeeves said.
Now, run along and sneer!

No, no, I don't think so,
I've another very like this.

You must have one of everything
in that blasted collection of yours.

How about this
very rare Georgian teapot?

Morning!

I'll be with you in a moment, sir.

- Hello, Fox here.
- I know you, young man!

- Er, no, no...
- You came up before me once,

but not twice. Good. Going straight, eh?

Now, let me think what was it...
Of course! Yes! Bag-snatchin'.

- No, no...
- All over and done with now? Splendid.

- Roderick, come over here.
- Hello.

Look at him.

I gave him three months recently
for snatching bags at railway stations -

It's clear his term in jail
has had an excellent effect on him.

- Quite reformed.
- Huh!

- Here, a shilling, don't spend it on drink.
- Spend it on drink?

- Oh, has the gentleman gone?
- Yes, yes, they've gone, yes.

Erm, where was I? Oh, yes!

I understand you've an
18th-century cow-creamer for sale.

I'm afraid it's promised to a customer.

- Name of Travers?
- Ah!,

that's all right, then. He's my uncle,

- sent me along to have a look.
- Oh, right!

- I expect it's absolutely rotten.
- It's a beautiful piece!

Oh dear.

- What?
- No, no, no, no, no, no.

- This won't do at all, modern Dutch.
- Modern Dutch, what do you mean?

'Ave a look at the 'allmark.

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

- I can't see any hallmark.
- Are you blind?

Take it out in the street,
have a look at it in the light.

Oh, dear, the phone again.

Ha! Smash-and-grab-man, by God!

This is the sort of thing
that makes one sick at heart, Spode.

- No, if you just let me explain...
- Aah!

Explain. Call the policeman, Spode.

- Police!
- No! You don't understand, I...

- I understand far too well.
- Police!

No, look, all I was trying to...

I say, Spode, look at this.

- Can I help you, officer?
- Where did he go?

- Who?
- Right.

- I shouldn't go in there if were you.
- Oh, no?

- Bluebottle!
- Where?

Come with me, officer.

This way, come along.

- It's her.
- Sir?

Aunt Dahlia. Erm,
tell her I've gone to Switzerland.

Mrs Travers will be
most disappointed, sir.

She'll be boiling anyway if she knows
how miserably I failed with that milk jug.

Good morning, Mrs Travers.

Mr Wooster asked me to say
that he's gone to Switzerland.

Oh, piffle, Jeeves,
get the blighter out of bed.

Very good, madam.

- Mrs Travers, sir.
- I thought I'd told you...

I'm afraid she seemed
disinclined to believe me, sir.

Well, I-I can't face her, Jeeves.

Courage mounteth with the occasion, sir.

Well, it doesn't mounteth with me
on the occasion of facing an irate aunt.

You know that cow-creamer
I asked you to sneer at?

- Ah, well, yes...
- Did you sneer?

- I did...
- Well your sneers were wasted.

That unmitigated hound, Bassett,
has bought it!

He went to the shop and told the
shopkeeper that Tom had sent him.

- Well, well, well.
- Is all you can say "Well, well, well"?

- Well...
- Oh, do stop it!

If I ever catch the idiot who told Watkyn
of the thing's existence,

I shall not be responsible for my actions.

- I don't think you should be too severe.
- I shall not be severe, I shall be just.

When I find out who it was,
I shall sever his head from his shoulders.

You'd best hope that by every moral law,
that cow-creamer belongs to Tom.

- Emphatically.
- And if he finds out Bassett's got it,

he'll probably sink into a lassitude
and take no further interest in life.

- If you say so, old flesh and blood.
- Good.

Because you're going to
steal it back for me.

I don't care
how spiritual Harold Pinker is,

- I'm Stephanie's guardian.
- You know he played cricket for Oxford?

I don't care if he played
Tiddlywinks for the Sorbonne.

It's bad enough
you and this newt-fancier coming down.

I'm not having her
marry some half-baked curate.

Harold is not half-baked, Uncle Wattie.

Perhaps someone
left the oven door open.

I don't want to hear
another word about this.

He won't always be a curate, either.

When he's Archbishop of Canterbury,
he can ask you to marry him.

It's no good, Stiffy.
Sir Watkyn will never allow you

to throw yourself away
on a penniless curate.

Oh, you are wet sometimes, Harold.

We've just got to convince him that
you're the stuff archbishops are made of.

All right. I shall be dignified,
I shall be urbane.

If you could not trip over the furniture,
it'd be a start.

Come on, there's the gong.

Come along, Bartholomew.

Under the new order,
the whole of Wales and Scotland

will be used
for the production of potatoes.

Nothing but potatoes?

Nothing... hut... potatoes.

Just as Gloucestershire
will be entirely laid down to turnips

and Wiltshire to beans.

Rationalisation
is the order of the day.

Warwickshire will manufacture
umbrellas and shooting sticks

and Norfolk, because of its
distinctive topography, motor cars.

I don't quite see that, Spode.

It's all been scientifically worked out,
I assure you.

Sorry I'm late, Sir Watkyn,
I've just been arranging my tanks.

- Tanks?
- Yes, my newt-tanks.

Mr Fink-Nottle breeds newts.
When Augustus and I are married

- I'm going to learn all about newts.
- Married?!

Augustus and I are getting married.

Little madam... married...

to him?!

Oh, have you seen Madeline?

- Gussie, could you help?
- I don't know.

I've got something in my eye,
a fly or something.

Oh, yes, yes...

Won't you have a look
over there, at the light...?

- Gussie!
- Oh hello, Madeline.

Oh!

- Telegram for Mr Wooster.
- Thank you, Mr Jarvis.

A telegram for you, sir.

- Yes, well, you'd better read it, Jeeves.
- Very good, sir.

"Come immediately.
Serious rift, Madeline and self.

"Unless come earliest possible moment
prepared lend every effort reconciliation,

"wedding will be broken off.
Reply, Gussie.” Sir.

Well, these are deep waters, Jeeves.

There's only one thing
we can say with any certainty,

which is that Gussie
has made an ass of himself again.

- There is that possibility, sir.
- Have you your telegraph pad handy?

- Yes, sir.
- Right, send this...

"Fink-Nottle, Totleigh Towers,
Totleigh-In-the-Wold, Gloucestershire.

"Yes, that's all very well. You say come
immediately, but how dickens can I?

"Relations between Pop Bassett and self
not such as to make welcome Bertram.

"Would her out on ear and set dogs on.
What serious rift? Why serious rift?

"Why dickens? What have you been
doling to the girl? Reply, Bertie.”

Forgive me for mentioning I,
but am I not right in thinking that

should the rift between Mr Fink-Nottle
and Miss Bassett not be healed,

she may well raise her sights and regard
you as a matrimonial prospect again?

Good Lord, you're absolutely right!
We must go down to Totleigh in person.

- Send a telegram cancelling the last one.
- I haven't sent this one yet, sir.

Well, get weaving,
get them both off at once!

Yes, sir. Totleigh Towers might
also seem the convenient place

from which to send Mrs Travers
a telegram, informing her that

we have tried, but regrettably failed,
to steal the cow-creamer.

Hands up!

- Now, look...
- Watkyn, come here!

- Yes, here I am. What is it?
- Look at this.

Good God, the bag-snatched

he'd already begun to loot the place.
Look, he's got your creamer again.

It's unbelievable,
he must've followed us down.

Bring him to the library,
I'll issue a warrant,

- put the ruffian away once and for all.
- Hoi!

- If he resists, shoot him, don't hesitate.
- Wil you listen...

What a lot of noise...
Why, Bertie! When did you get here?

- I've just arrived.
- You mean you know this man?

Of course I know him, Daddy.
Bertie is an old friend of mine,

- I told you he was coming.
- He snatches bags!

And makes daylight raids
on antique shops.

After me cow-creamer!

- He's got the blasted thing in his hand!
- You are an old silly, Daddy.

Naturally your sliver's
the first thing Bertie would look for.

- Bertie is Mr Travers' nephew.
- What? Tom Travers' nephew?

So of course he's interested in sliver,
Just like his uncle.

- Ohh.
- Come along, Bertie.

Anyway, it wasn't bag-snatching,
it was policeman's helmet-stealing.

How sweet of you to come,
Bertie, but everything's sorted out.

I thought I found him
flirting with my cousin, Stephanie,

but he was only
taking a fly out of her eye.

You know, sometimes I ask myself if
I'm worthy of so rare a soul as Augustus.

Oh, I wouldn't ask yourself rot like that,
of course you are!

No, when he first met you I thought,
"That's the bird, there she spouts!”

- So, when's the wedding to be?
- September.

- I'd make it a bit earlier if I were you.
- You think so?

Oh yes, get it over and done with,
then it's off your mind.

You can't be married too soon
to a chap like Gussie.

Dear Bertie,
always the soul of generosity!

- Wooster, I want a word with you.
- Ah, what ho?

- I have been talking to Sir Watkyn.
- Oh, yes?

- We know why you're here.
- Oh, yes?

Stop saying, “oh yes",
you miserable worm, and listen to me.

It is perfectly plain to us
why you are here.

Your uncle has sent you
to steal the cow-creamer for him.

- No! I
- You needn't deny I,

I've found you with it
in your hands already.

- Well...
- You're being watched, watched closely.

There's going to be a police guard
on the cow-creamer,

and if you're caught trying to steal it,
I shall immediately beat you to a jelly.

Or perhaps you think you're clever
enough to steal it without detection.

Listen to this. If that thing disappears
at all, I shall know where it has gone

and I shall still beat you to a jelly.

You will then go to prison.

Have you got that clear?

- Oh, er... Definitely.
- Splendid.

Right, to Aunt Dahlia. Erm... "I say,
look here, this is absolutely impossible,

"not to say, out of the question.

"Spode has already
threatened yours truly...

"Sorry, and all that...
oh, about the cow-creamer, I mean.

"Anyway, there it is. Toodle-pip,
your affectionate nephew, Bertie."

Is it a code?

- Mornin'.
- Mornin', Constable Oates.

♪ Where be the blackbird be

♪ I know where he be

♪ He be up yon apple tree
and I be after 'ee

♪ Think I'll 'ave thee, blackbird,
I'll 'ave thee ♪

Oh, no, that darn Bartholomew dog.

Get off! Stupid dog, get off!

Get away from me!

Get away!
Get away from me, you stupid...

Ooooh!

What on earth did you do that for?

You might've scared him out of his wits,
hurling yourself about!

- Poor old Bartholomew!
- I must caution you, Miss Stephanie...

Did the ugly man
nearly squash you flat?

I was proceedin' along a public highway,

when the dog leaped at me
in a virulent manner.

I was 'urled from my bi-cycle...

Well you shouldn't ride a bicycle,
Bartholomew hates bicycles!

I ride a bi-cycle, because if I didn't,
I would 'ave to cover my beat on foot.

Do you good, get some of the fat off.

I will 'ave to summons you once more,
for being in possession of a savage dog

- whilst not under proper control.
- Don't be an ass, Oates!

You can't expect a dog
to pass up a policeman on a bicycle.

It isn't human nature.

I intend to fight this case
to the House of Lords,

and I shall call this gentleman,
as material witness.

Oh, it's you, Bertie!
Did you see what happened?

- Ringside seat.
- Well, stand by to be subpoenaed.

Be that as it may, Miss.
We'll see about that.

I'm just on my way to see Harold,
we're engaged, you know.

Don't tell a soul, Uncle Watkyn mustn't
know until he's been well sweetened.

- And who is this Harold?
- You know Harold,

you were at Oxford together.

He's the curate here in the village.

He talks a lot about you. Harold Pinker.

Stinker Pinker

Great Scott,
I often wondered where he'd got to! Hah!

- Oh, there you are Bertie, here's Harold.
- Stinker! Good heavens!

- Bertie, well, well, well.
- I always wondered what became of you.

I wondered only the other day
what had happened to you.

- Well, well, well.
- Extraordinary thing!

- And here you are!
- Well, well, well!

- Absolutely amazing, good heavens.
- Is that the end?

- We want you to do something for us.
- What?

Harold... We can't talk here,
come to Harold's room in the rectory.

- Fancy you being engaged to Stinker!
- I'm so happy I could bite a grape,

or at least I should be.

- Sit down Bertie. You tell him, Harold.
- Well, what we thought was,

you could steal Sir Watkyn's
new cow-creamer.

What's the point of that?

Then Harold can get it back,
hand it over to Uncle Watkyn,

and earn his undying gratitude.

Oh, I see! You want me to put on a black
mask, break in through the window,

snitch this object d'art
and then hand it over to Stinker.

We hadn't thought of a mask.
That's a very good idea, Bertie!

- Then I go and do my time at Dartmoor?
- No, no, you escape, of course.

Then Harold comes back
into the house, covered in blood...

- Whose blood?
- Well, yours, we thought.

Got to be signs of a struggle
to make it interesting.

Midnight tonight OK?
Don't you think it's a wonderful scheme?

Wonderful! Goodbye, Stiffy.

- You don't mean you won't do it?
- I do mean I won't do it.

- Bertie, I think you're a pig
-Maybe, but a shrewd level-headed pig,

who was not born yesterday
and has seen a thing or two.

Oh, all right Bertie.
Well, I think you're jolly mean.

I don't know how Madeline
can be so fond of you.

Now that her engagement's been broken
you should show a little interest.

She's such a lovely girl.

You understand I imply nothing
derogatory to her

when I say there are certain females one
is prepared to fight off with a blackjack,

and it is to this group
that your cousin belongs.

Besides, Madeline tells me
that she and Gussie

are all hearts and flowers again, anyway.

Why've you gone all quiet?

I'm just trying
to straighten things out in my mind.

You know, if I told Madeline that
Gussie really was trying to kiss me...

- But he wasn't.
- How do you know?

- Well, I know Gussie.
- But if I did tell Madeline that,

it'd be over for good
between her and Gussie,

and she'd probably start
thinking about you again, Bertie.

- You know how fond of you she is.
- Now, look...

However, as you're going to be so sweet,

and help me and Harry
by stealing that cow-creamer thing,

I suppose I shall have to stretch
a point or two and not tell her.

- Stiffy...
- Midnight tonight, Bertie.

Mrs Travers has arrived, sir.
She has a matter of some importance

she wishes to discuss with you.

Ah! What ho, aunt of my bosom?

What do you mean by sending me
those blasted, silly telegrams?

What? Oh, the cow-creamer, you mean?
As I said, one has tried, one has failed,

one can do no more.

Don't you try that dying duck
in a thunderstorm stuff on me.

You will get that cow-creamer.

No, you don't understand, I have tried.
I've been threatened with a shotgun

and Spode says that if I try again
he'll beat me to a jelly.

- Yes, go on.
- What do you mean, "yes, go on"?

- You wouldn't want me beaten to a jelly.
- Might be an improvement.

Just pull yourself together, Wooster,
and retrieve that cow-creamer!

No, no, no, no...

- Get him moving, Jeeves!
- Very good, Mrs Travers.

This is getting beyond a joke, Jeeves.

Aunt Dahlia wants me
to pinch that cow-creamer,

Stiffy wants me
to pinch the blasted cow-creamer...

- Do you want me to pinch it?
- I think it would be most unwise, sir.

You're the only one.
I explained it was impossible

and she just said, "get on with it".

There may be a way of taking Rodrick
Spode and his threats of violence

out of the picture,
all together.

Really? I don't see how.

If one were to get the goods on him,
as the underworld phraseology has it,

he might well be rendered
a negligible force, sir.

We haven't got anything on him,
I don't even know where we'd look.

I was thinking
of the Junior Ganymede, sir.

It is a club for gentlemen's
personal gentlemen, in Curzon Street.

- A club? Do you mean like White's?
- Of a similar nature, sir.

But the premises are more comfortable,

and the members less Bolshevik.

- And you're a member?
- Indeed, sir.

And Mr. Spode's attendant
is sure to be a member also,

and would have confided
to the secretary

a good deal of information
concerning Mr Spode

for inclusion in the club book.

The club book?

Under rule 11 each member
is required to supply the club

with full information regarding
his employers, past and present.

This not only provides entertaining
reading, but also serves as a warning

to members who may be
contemplating taking service

with gentlemen
who fall short of the ideal.

- Did you tell them about me?
- Oh, yes, sir.

What, everything? The night I came
home from Pongo Twistleton's birthday

and mistook the lamp for a burglar?

That episode is a particular favourite
with members, sir.

They like to have these things
to read on wet afternoons.

So what's your idea? Phone the
secretary for information about Spode?

The secretary is not
permitted to dispense

such highly confidential information
over the telephone wires, sir.

Oh.

- Right, all set, Jeeves?
- Yes, sir.

- Good. For heaven's sake, hurry back.
- Indeed, sir.

Hullo Desmond,
here's some nice ant eggs for you.

Go on, why don't you
get up onto your nice rock?

Mmm, your water's a bit warm, isn't it?

What a silly daddy! Really!

Hm.

Ooh!

Come in.

Oh, sorry, sir. I Just wanted to turn
your bed down, shall I come back later?

No, no, no... This curtain's stuck!

I'll get Mr Herbert
to come up and see to it, sir.

- You could reach it if I lifted you up.
- I don't know about that, sir.

It's Desmond, you see,
the sun's on his tank.

I don't know, sir...

Just stand there, you see
it's the wheel that's stuck, I think.

- Oh! I No, I can't quite reach, sir.
- We'll try once more.

- I don't know as I can, sir.
- Course you can, come on!

- Gussie!
- Oh, hello Madeline, I'm just...

- Gussie, how could you?
- Madeline?

OI' course, one can't get
proper gentlemen, nowadays.

Yes.

They're not what they were, certainly.

The one I've got at the moment
insists on calling me by my first name.

One tries to be tactful, of course,

but one is simply
swimming against the tide.

I blame the authorities.
How's yours now, Jeeves?

Oh, really quite promising. I suspected
I could make something of him

and such is proving to be the case.

But you want to see the book, don't you?

I'm not considering another gentleman.
This is quite another matter.

The book for Mr Jeeves, if you please.

Well I must say, mine's
coming along very nicely indeed.

Remember I had to be
quite severe with him

for wearing a soft hat
before Goodwood?

Good as gold, now, good as gold.

Ah, thank you.

I'm really quite concerned
about this first name business.

I think they pick it up from the cinema.

Why don't you try not answering,
when he calls you by the wrong name?

Oh, I don't think I could carry that off,
one doesn't like to hurt their feelings.

No, I know what you mean.

Good heavens!

Good heavens!

- Anything I can do for you?
- Why wasn't Fink-Nottle at dinner?

- Perhaps he wasn't hungry.
- I'm looking for him! I

- Right. Any message, if he tums up?
- Tell him I'm going to break his neck!

Break his neck, right,
and, er, if he should ask why?

He knows why! Because he's a butterfly,

who toys with women's hearts and
throws them aside, like soiled gloves.

- Do butterflies do that?
- Are you trying to be funny?

- No, no, no.
- Good.

Bertie!

Show yourself! I am not afraid.

Do you bring a message
from the other side?

Let me out of here!

They ought to put handles
on the inside of those things!

- What were you doing in there?
- Hiding.

Why he didn't look inside I can't imagine.
I thought dictators were thorough.

Stop complaining. What's this about
throwing away Madeline's heart?

Wasn't me, it was her! The housemaid
was helping me with the curtain.

Madeline came in and...
Oh, what's the use?

- How are you on knotting sheets?
- What do you mean, knotting sheets?

Like in books. You tie knots in them
and then climb down out of the window.

- You're not afraid of Spode?
- I am!

No, there's nothing for it
but to start knotting sheets.

You're not using my sheets!

But Bertie, my life's at stake!

I don't care, I decline to be
a party to this craven scooting.

Ah!

Very well. I shall have to go off and hide
till dawn, when the milk train leaves.

Goodbye, Bertie.
You have disappointed me.

Well, you've disappointed me,
I thought you had guts.

I have, and I don't want Roderick Spode
fooling about with them.

So, at midnight you're waiting
in the sliver room, all right?

Yes, yes, I see.

In comes Bertie, you let him take
the creamer, and then you biff him.

Biff him, yes, I see...
He has agreed to this now, has he?

He hasn't any choice.

That should do I, I should think.

- Really?
- We want to see blood, remember?

Who goes there?

- All quiet, Oates?
- All quiet, Sir Watkyn, sir.

I'm turnin' in now.
Remember, Oates, I'm relyin' on you.

- Keep a special eye on the cow-creamer.
- Very good, Sir Watkyn, sir.

- What happened? Has Spode a secret?
- Indeed he has, sir.

- Hah! Tell me all.
- I fear I cannot do that, sir.

The club's rules regarding dissemination
of such material are very rigid.

What was the bally use of going, then?

It's only the details of the matter
I'm precluded from mentioning, sir.

I am perfectly at liberty to tell you

that it would greatly lessen
Mr Spode's potentiality for evil,

were you to inform him
that you know all about Eulalie.

- Eulalie?
- Eulalie, sir.

Sure you can't go any deeper
into the subject?

Quite sure, sir.

Were I to do so, it is probable
that my resignation would be called for.

We wouldn't want that, of course.
All right, Jeeves, drive on. Eulalie, eh?

- Oi!
- Mm

Oh! I thought it was Spode!

What do you mean,
sneaking up on me like that?

This is my blasted room, Fink-Nottle!

What do you mean by mucking up my
bed linen after I specifically forbid it?

- You've sheets of your own, knot those.
- How can I? Spode's sitting on my bed!

Ah, well, I have good news on that front.
You need no longer fear Spode.

What do you mean I need no longer
fear Spode? Talk sense, Wooster!

I mean exactly what I say.
Spode qua menace,

if "qua” is the word I'm after,
is a thing of the past.

I have learned something that
he'd not care to have generally known.

- What?
- Do not bother yourself with details.

Suffice to say I'm in a position to put it
across him in no uncertain fashion.

If he attempts any rough stuff
I shall give him the works.

- Fink-Nottle!
- This may be the blighter now.

- Lock the door! Lock the door!
- That will not be necessary.

Watch me deal with him,
Gussie, it may amuse you.

Hal

Well, Spode, what is it now?

- Spode!
- What do you want?

Since you ask, I would like to know

why the devil you keep coming
into my private apartment

and taking up space
which I require for other purposes?

I assume you have a room of your own.

Why don't you get back there,
you fat slob?

- And stay there.
- Did you call me a fat slob?!

I did. it's about time some public-spirited
person told you where to get off.

The trouble with you is that just because
you've induced a handful of halfwits

to disfigure the London scene
by going about in black shorts,

you think you're someone.

You hear them shout, "Hail Spode”
and imagine it's the voice of the people.

That is where you make your bloomer.

The voice of the people
is actually saying,

"Look at that frightful ass Spode
swanking about in footer bags.

"Did you ever in your life
see such a perfect perisher?"

- I shall attend to you later!
- On the contrary, Spode,

I shall attend to you now.
Spode, I know your secret.

- Ey?
- I know all about...

- Ah...
- You know all about what?

Ah... Euthymol! Ahh...

Eu... eu...

Eureka!

You...

Euclid!

Eucalyptus!

Euripides!

Ah... er... Eu...

Eu... Owl

Eucharist! Ah...

Eunuch!

Euphonium?

Eu... Eu... Eu...

Eu...! Eu...! Eu...!

What... Eu...!

Now, then!

Eulalie!

What?

I know all about it, Spode.
Oh, yes, I know all about Eulalie.

Oh. But, wh... h-how did you find out?

Well...I have my methods, Spode.

- You won't tell anyone, will you?
- Er, no, I-I won't.

Thank you, Wooster, thank you.

Provided we have no more of these
extraordinary exhibitions on your part.

Of course, of course.

I-I've been acting rather hastily,
forgot myself, won't happen again.

It had better not. Good Lord,
threatening to beat a chap to a jelly!

Oh, I know, I know. I was wrong.

Well, I shall be very sharp
on that sort of thing in future, Spode.

I understand.

In fact I've not been at all satisfied
with your behaviour since I got here.

You called me
a miserable worm this morning!

I'm sorry I called you
a miserable worm, Wooster.

I spoke without thinking.

Ah, yes, well,
always think, Spode, always!

Right, well, that is all,
you may withdraw. Good night, Spode.

Good night, Wooster.

And say good night,
nicely, to Mr Fink-Nottle.

Er... Good night, Fink-Nottle.

Bertie!

Oi!

Oh, my Lord!

- Where do you think you're going?
- It's gone, sir.

- What's gone?
- The cow-thing, sir, it's gone!

And you were just going off
and leaving everything else unguarded?

- I thought I...
- Witless oaf!

You did it

- Help! thief, help!
- It's not Bertie!

What? Oh, it doesn't matter.

- Help me!
- I can't understand it, Sir Watkyn, sir.

It's got to be there somewhere,
Sir Watkyn, sir.

- Harold caught the thief.
- What? Oh, well done, young man.

Who's that?

Harold saw him come in
and hit him with the bat.

- What the devil are you doing, Spode?
- Spode? Oh, no, you idiot, Harold!

That fool of a policeman said
there was some sliver missing!

There was an intruder, Sir Watkyn, sir!
I very nearly apprehended 'em, and...

The cow-creamer! it's gone! It's gone!

- Well?
- Nothin', Sir Watkyn, sir.

- You searched every room?
- And every piece of luggage, not a sign.

You have trampled on
the most elementary rules of hospitality.

If you are now quite satisfied,

I shall shake the dust
of this place from my feet.

- Butterfield, be so good as to call a taxi.
- Very good, madam.

Thank you, Mr Butterfield,
for a most enjoyable stay.

Thank you.

- Bally rum, Jeeves, all that.
- Indeed, sir.

Just seems to have
vanished into thin air.

- Everything all right, old kith and kin?
- Wonderful, thank you, dear.

We were just wondering who could've
stolen the cow-creamer, eh, Jeeves?

Indeed, sir.

Nobody stole the cow-creamer,

it was confiscated for return
to its rightful owner.

Confiscated?
Well, who confiscated it?

I did, then I gave it
to Jeeves to hide for me.

Have you got it, Jeeves?

Good Lord!

Good Lord!

Thank you, Jeeves!

Ta-ta, Bertie!

Good Lord!

There is just one thing, Jeeves. I do wish
you'd give me the inside dope on Eulalie.

The rules of The Junior Ganymede
are extremely strict, sir.

Jeeves, if you give me the lowdown,
I will come on that world cruise of yours.

- No, sir, no, I could not betray a trust.
- Jeeves, I stand in awe.

I'm almost tempted to come anyway,
as a reward for your resolution.

That would be extremely generous, sir.

I said almost, Jeeves.

Yes, sir, the adverb did not escape me.