All language subtitles for To The Manor Born - S02E05 - The Honours List

Hawkins, where's the first drive?

Out in that field outside the shelter belt.

Get the beaters up there.
We'll start in a few minutes.

Right you are, sir.

Right, beaters, follow me.

(Murmur of conversation)

Good shoot at your place last week, Willy.

Got off a left and a right.

A pheasant came out of the kale. Bang.
Another came out.

Bang. Missed 'em both.

You were lucky.

What do you mean lucky? I missed.

I mean you were lucky to see any.

There's a distinct lack of birds this year.

Let's hope we have better shooting today.
Grantleigh's one of the best shoots.

Ifit isn't up to snuff, I'll have a lot to say
at the committee meeting next week.

What committee meeting?

The landowners' association.
Oh, yeah.

Where is it this year?
Here, of course. Always is.

Ah, yes, but the estate's changed hands.

What's that got to do with it?

DeVere may not know it's customary.

He must do. I've had my invitation.

Gentlemen, would you like to draw
for your positions on the first drive?

Usual sloe gin, is it?
That's right.

And your numbers are on the bottom.

I'm five.

Mine's number six. Brigadier?

I was four, I think.

Think? Could you make sure?

Don't mind if I do.

Now listen, if I don't bag
at least a half a dozen today,

I'l have a lot to say
at the committee meeting next week.

What committee meeting is that?
The one here.

Here?
Yes, you know.

Come on, Willy.
Let's show those damn birds the party's over.

Five pounds of potatoes.
Just over, all right?

Allright.

So that's...30p. Anything else, Mrs fforbes?

Um...

Two pounds of apples, please.

Two pounds of apples.
From the front.

I see old Arthur's in the district again.

-Ishe?
You know, Arthur Smith, the tramp.

Oh, more of an itinerant labourer than a tramp,
wouldn't you say?

No, I wouldn't. Smelly Smith, the tramp.
That's what I call him.

Two pounds. Just over, all right?

Oh, I expect he'll be down
to see you at the manor.

I no longer live at the manor, Mrs Patterson.

Oh, no more you do.

I forgot.

So that's plus 44.

That's 74p.

Honestly, Mrs Patterson, your prices!

It's the friendly service you pay for, Mrs fforbes.

Anything more?

I think I've got just enough
for a pound of bananas.

A pound of bananas.

I expect he'll be knocking
on Mr DeVere's door, then, on the scrounge.

Scrounge? I think that's too strong a word.

We need all the casual labour we can get
at this time of year.

People like him spoil the look of the place.
Scruffy beggar.

Only because he needs looking after.

We always sent him on his way
as clean as a new pin.

Wasting your time, if you ask me.

I wasn't asking you.
I regarded it as going with the job.

Just over, all right?

So that's £1.02 in all.
If you've got the 2p it would help.

I've only got pound notes.

I haven't got any change.

Oh, well, here's a pound.
Just under, all right?

Grantleigh's always been very good to me, Ned.

I should have asked Mrs fforbes about this.

Oh, she'll be OK. She always looks after me.

Sorry about that.
Just spent a couple of weeks on a slurry cart.

Ned, have you been boiling your socks again?

Oh.
Hello, Mrs fforbes.

Hello, Mr Smith.
Where did you spring from this time?

I just did a stint at Moneymore Hall.
How are things are Moneymore?

Going to pot, I'm afraid.
It's Sir Willoughby's new wife.

They say she's bleeding him dry.

Oh, I hadn't heard that. What else?

I'l be lucky if I get a pig's blister, there.

Same at Mountford Hall in Hampshire
where I help with the Christmas trees.

Mean as sin.

Not like here at Grantleigh.

We've always done our best.
I see you have eaten.

Oh, yes, ma'am. Ned's looked after me proud.

Well, if Mr Miller needs anyone
on the slurry cart,

I'l be starting work.

It will be just like the old days.

No, Arthur, I'm afraid things here
arent just like the old days.

When you're ready for supper,
perhaps you'd like to call in at the manor.

I have. The new bloke up there threw me out.

Oh, did he? Well, you leave him to me.

Oh, all right, Mrs fforbes.

Well, I'll be joining the tortoise
in the vineyard, then.

Thanks for the meal, Ned.

Ned, who gave you permission to feed him?

He said you always used
to feed him at the manor.

At the manor, yes.

In the old days they used to give the casuals
a Bedford clanger to eat outside.

What on earth was that?
Its along roll.

Meat at one end, sweet at the other.

How clever.

They used to keep it warm under the cow pats.

How quaint.

Well, he's Mr DeVere's responsibility now.

He'll be working for him
so he can make him his Bedford clangers.

Besides, I'm far too busy at the moment.
I've got the shooting sub-committee meeting.

I've got a lot of paperwork to get through.
(Doorbell)

See who that is.

(Squeaking)

It's Mr DeVere, ma'am.
I've put him in the drawing room.

Just the man I want to see.

Oh, Ned, can't you find some quieter boots?
Those are driving me quite mad.

Hello. I've got a bone to pick with you.

And I with you. What's all this about
a landowners' association meeting on Friday?

It's just the shooting sub-committee.
We all talk about pheasant poaching.

And you sent me notification of this?

Yes, I'm the secretary
in my late husband's absence.

But it's taking place at the manor.
I do hope you can make it.

You're inviting me to my own house.

Don't tell me you didn't know about it.
It's all in the minutes for last year.

Oh, is it? I looked up the landowners'
association file in the estate office.

I wonder why you haven't got the papers.
They can't be in two places at once.

Are you accusing me of taking your files?

Before you go inviting all and sundry
to my house, perhaps you could ask me.

It isn't all and sundry.
It's just you and me

and Willy and Brigadier Leamington
for the neighbouring estates.

Do sit down.
And Hawkins, our game keeper.

Before you go lecturing me on how to behave,
what about Arthur Smith?

Who's Arthur Smith?

Well, he's a casual labourer.

Somebody you threw out this morning.

What, you mean that tramp?

He may be a tramp fo you,

but to us he's always been a valuable member
of the estate work force.

No tramp's going to be part of my work force.
My staff have a regular wash.

He has a regular wash once a year.

He goes to the cottage hospital for a shower.

I expect it's a joke but they say he just stands
under the sprinkler and shouts "Fire!"

Well, why do you know so much about him?

He comes here every year
to help with the slurry-carting.

And in return we feed him,
we let him sleep in the barns,

we clean him up and sometimes we give him
one of Marton's old suits to see him on his way.

Jolly good. Don't let me stop you.

When I say we do, I mean we did.

And when I say we, I mean you.

You can't expect me to feed him
when he's working for you.

I think you'll find he has quite a personality.

I know, I smelt it.

Yes, that's another thing.
It's a little overpowering in a house this size.

Up at the manor, his...personality
has got more room to move about.

Audrey, you can't seriously expect me
to take him in?

Well, if he's got one failing,
it's that he's a bit of a gossip.

If he goes on from here fo the other big houses

and talks of the shabby treatment
he's been getting at Grantleigh,

your name will be mud
the length and breadth of the county.

Oh, I'm used to that.

You may be, but I won't have you dragging
the good name of Grantleigh down with you.

Well, all right. If he has the gall to call again,
I'l bear that in mind.

Oh, you wouldn't happen to know
where I could find our gamekeeper, would you?

I expect he's up at the feed bins
in Little Hollows Wood. Why?

I would like to have something
to put into this file.

Thank you.

Oh, and next time you want
to throw a party in my house, let me know.

(Squeaking)
I thought I asked you to change those boots.

I haven't got another pair, ma'am.
They'll settle down in time.

Oh, by the way, Mr Smith's here again.

He seems to have mislaid his hat.

How extraordinary.
It must have fallen into the bin.

How did that happen?

I say, you're not chucking these away, are you?

Apparently.

Do you mind if I have them?

In my job we get one or two things
you don't like to handle.

Quite.

Now, about your meals.

I've had a word with Mr DeVere and he says
you'll be most welcome up at the manor.

Oh, righty-ho, Mrs fforbes.

Well, I'l be off, then.

(Bang)

Come on, stand up.

How many have you got?
I'l learn you to poach in broad daylight.

All right, Hawkins. I'm not a poacher.

Oh, it's you, Mr DeVere. Sorry, sir.

What the devil did you shoot at me for?
I could have been killed.

I didn't shoot, sir.
Well, somebody did.

No, alarm gun, sir.

You must have hit the trip wire.

Look.

Oh, I see.

You pull this wire here
and it releases that little ratchet there.

Down goes the weight, hits the cartridge,

and bang.

Yes, very ingenious.

Well, if it doesn't scare the poachers off,

at least it tells me
there's someone snooping around.

But, of course, it doesn't tell me who.

I wasn't snooping
but I came to talk to you about this poaching.

There's a lot of it about, sir. I know that.

Can you give me a few statistics,
like how many birds are missing

and how many convictions we've had
in the past three years.

It's all in my head, sir.
Oh, good.

Well, perhaps you'll come with me to the office
and we'll get it down on paper.

Right you are, sir.
I'll drive you down.

(Bang)

"Come round for a chat."
That's what you said.

Sorry, but when I go to this meeting on Friday,
I want to be sure of my facts and figures.

Oh, glory, that's all I need.

What?
The game book. It's empty.

Those poor pheasants gave their all
and died without a memorial.

Perhaps the shooters didn't hit anything.

With all that banging in the wood?

They must have hit something
even if it was only a tree.

It should all be entered up in here.

I thought that was Richard's job.

Of course it is, and that's his second
bit of negligence this week.

Which is his first bit of negligence?

The small matter of Arthur Smith.

I can't make him see that he may be an eyesore

but he's a good worker
and he is his responsibility.

Oh, Arthur.

"Which man is born to sink,
howe'er depressed,

so low as to be scorned without a sin."

That rings a bell.
Wordsworth.

That poem we learned about
the old beggar man at school for elocution.

Oh, yes, I remember.

How does it go?

"Without offence to God,

cast out of view...

.like a dry remnant of a garden flower."

I wish I'd remembered that
when I ticked off DeVere.

Though I've never thought of Arthur
as a dry remnant of a garden flower.

Still, Wordsworth was right.
It is our duty to look after these people.

(Squeaking)

I do wish you wouldn't squeak at me, Ned.

It's Mr Smith, ma'am, come for his food.
I told him to go to the manor.

He did, ma'am, but he says
Mr DeVere threw him out again.

Oh, did he?

Well, the question is, have we any food?

Well, we've got some of the liver left, ma'am.

Oh, can't we do beter than that?

Sorry, Marjory,
but our dry remnant needs watering.

Mr Smith, I can't apologise enough

for the shabby treatment
you've been geting at the manor.

Sorry to be such a nuisance, ma'am.

Not at all. I feel responsible.

Ned, there's some steak in here.

That was for Bertie.
Give it to Mr Smith.

Bertie can have the liver
and I'll send the bill to Mr DeVere.

I wish every estate were like this, ma'am.

Harborough Hall, Bowminster Towers,
they're all the same.

It doesn't matter how much work I put in,

I'm lucky if I get a pig's blister.

But here it's just like coming home.

Oh, thank you, ma'am, and bless you.

It's the least we can do, after all...

"What man is born to sink, howe'er so low,

depressed and scorned without..."

Would you like it fried or grilled?

Morning, Mother.
(Gasps)

Bedrich, you gave me such a fright.

I nearly stabbed myself.

Well, I'm sorry.

What are you doing up so early?
I want a damning needle.

Look.
fs a hole.

How can a son of mine
get his clothes into this state?

It's just one of my hidden talents.

What are you doing dressed like that?

You look like a string bean.

Mother!

I'm going shooting this morning.

What, out in the freezing cold?

Have you got your woolly vest on?
Yes, I've got three on.

Going out there to catch your death,

with nothing on,
when you might be in the warm.

Still, there is a saying in old Czechoslovakia:

the naked man fears no pickpockets.

Oh, you are like children.

Shooty bangs.
Mother, shooting is a traditional English sport.

You English! Mad as haters.

Oh, are we indeed? Well, let me remind you

that my decision to become an Englishman
has put you where you are today.

And before you say,
"That is no way to speak to your mother,"

I think it is about time you learned
which side your bread was buttered.

Bedrich,

are you trying to grow a moustache?

(Tapping)

Yes?
Nasty morning.

Well, it wasn't until now.

I trust you slept well.

Oh, yes, thank you, sir.
In the old butler's quarters.

In a feather bed.
Ah.

You've got this place looking nice.

In the old days,
the Chesterfield used to be over there.

And there used fo be an escritoire cabinet here.

Well, I prefer things as they are.
I'd also prefer it if you'd get on with your work.

Pity about her over there, isn't it?

Mrs fforbes used to be so kind to me.

Suddenly she doesn't know me.

I'm lucky if I get a pig's blister out of her.

It's a shame you and she
don't get on well together.

You ought to...

You know what I mean.

Have you had your breakfast?
Yes, thank you, sir.

I haven't, so would you mind leaving?
I'l tell you what you're getting.

Eggs.

Where did you get those?

Chickens, sir.

I know that. Whose?

Old Ned's. He always gives me
pick of the bunch, does old Ned.

Fresh farm eggs,

picked with my own fair hands.

(Squeaking)

Ned, is Mr Smith's lunch ready?
He's just coming across the fields.

How much longer do we have
to put up with him? It's been four days now.

I didn't move in here
to look after the likes of Arthur Smith.

I know you don't like having him here
but it is only a week.

You could be more Christian.

Sometimes it isn't easy.

Of course it isn't easy.
There wouldn't be any virtue in it if it was.

That's what Christian charity is all about.

Nobody likes having tramps round the place,

but we should be thankful
that providence has put us in a position

to help the poor and needy.

Arthur Smith makes me realise

just how lucky we are.

Lucky?
Yes.

Ever since the welfare state,
there haven't been enough tramps fo go round.

We should consider it a privilege
to have him here,

to give him meals, fo clean him up
and to look out clothes for him.

Oh, honoured, I'm sure, madam.

Unfortunately, we're not in a position
to be as charitable this year.

The only suits in this house are yours.

Have you got an oldest suit?

Yes, I'm wearing it.

I thought that was your Sunday suit.

Itis as well.

Well, I'm sure if you had another one
and were the same size as Mr Smith,

you would give it to him.

No, I wouldn't.

Well, I would, but he'd look silly in one of mine.

Oh, hello, Mr Smith. I see you've found a use
for that old umbrella of Brabinger's.

You promised that to me
if I stopped singing in the bath.

I've got a present for you.

Here we are. Size six and silent.

Thank you. Thank you, madam.

Yes, that's it.

Me there, Audrey there,

the Brigadier there and the old wallaby here.

Bedrich, what is this?

I think it used to be a sock.
Where did you find it?

In your bathroom.

And what is more,
your bath is in a disgusting state.

I've never seen such a black ring.

Well, he's got a cheek, that man.

I don't mind feeding him
and putting him in the servants' quarters.

I did give him permission to have a bath,
but not in my bathroom.

You should have thrown him out.
I can't throw him out, Mother.

I'm safeguarding the reputation of the estate.

According to Audrey, that freeloader
is our self-appointed public relations officer.

I've got to be on my way, Mr DeVere.
Oh, good, the suit fitted, I see.

Bedrich, that is your best suit.

lt was in 1963, yes.
I just came to say goodbye, sir.

Good, well, thank you for all your hard work.

Oh, it's nothing, sir.

A hot bath, a new suit, a few drinks,
a cigar and a full stomach

means more than mere money to me.

Ah, money.

Oh, no, no, no, sir, I couldn't.

Oh, I insist. I'd hate it fo be said
that we don't pay the proper rate for the job.

Oh, it was only ten hours a day for seven days.

What's a pound an hour between friends?

Shall we say £507?

Bedrich!

For the reputation of the estate.
You don't care a fig for the reputation.

I don't but Audrey does and so do you.

Oh, no, no, no, sir. Well, if you insist.

It's been a hard week, sir.

But I shall speak very highly of Grantleigh.

I always have and I always will.

Just a moment.

And...

If ever you're passing this way again,
keep passing.

Mr Smith,

I should hate you to go
without something from me, too.

Oh, you're very kind, ma'am.

Well, you've all been so generous,

I really can't accept another thing.

Nice try, Mother.

(Chuckles)

Ned, I'm going to the manor.
(Doorbell)

I'l answer the door.

Good evening, Mrs fforbes.
I just called to say goodbye.

Well, hello, Mr Smith.
I didn't recognise you in that suit.

It's Mr DeVere's.

Oh, good. Mind you,
I had to remind him of his duties.

Yes, well, he only gave it to me
on condition that I went away.

Well, I think that was our arrangement, too.

So, you're off.

Thank you so much for all your hard work.

No, no, ma'am. Thank you for your hospitality.

It's more rewarding than mere money to me.

Ah, yes.

Well, I'm afraid it can't be as much
as in past years. Will 50 be enough?

Oh, no, no, no, ma'am.

Oh, well, if you insist.

Good luck to you. There.

Evening, Richard.

Your mother let me in.
Hello, Audrey. Would you like a drink?

Don't get up. I'l help myself.

So, you gave him a suit.

Smith? Yes, I gave him a suit.

Bully for you.

Multimillionaire,

head of an enormous grocery empire

and you gave him a mouldy old suit.

Whereas I, a poor widow...

It was a very good suit,
far too good for an old tramp.

He may be an old tramp but that doesn't mean
you can throw him out like that,

like a dry remnant of a garden flower.

Pardon?

Do you ever read poetry?
Fiction mainly,

judging by these balance sheets.

That was Wordsworth.
Oh, he did these accounts, did he?

Wordsworth the poet,
reminding us of our duty to the poor.

"What man is born to sink, howe'er so low,

depressed and cast out of sin

like a dry remnant of a garden flower."

A dry remnant of a garden flower?
He's certainly blossomed since he's been here.

I've housed him, I've fed him,
I've let him have a bath in my bathroom.

You? What do you think I've been doing?

You mean, you've been feeding him as well?

Yes, every day.

Well, the crafty devil.
He's been playing us off one against the other.

He certainly has.
I should have given him a job at head office.

It doesn't matter. At least he's been useful.

It may not matter to you
but I've just given him 50 pence.

Bedrich, here is Sir Willoughby.

Hello, Willy. Come right in.
Hello, Willy.

Hello, Audrey.

Are you expecting any more?
Just the Brigadier.

Oh, and Hawkins.

The gamekeeper?

So now I am answering doors to gamekeepers.

Short of staff, are you, then?

No, it's just that Mother likes
to take an interest in everything.

She's got no need to.
I've got plenty of staff.

Oh, good. There have been rumours,
you know, about this place.

There are always rumours about this place.

You know what it's like in the country, Willy.

I've heard rumours about your place.

Nothing uncomplimentary, I hope.

Well, I heard that your wife...
Have a drink, Willy. Whisky, brandy, gin?

Whisky, please.

To be honest,
I wasn't expecting anything to drink.

Why? It's not too early for you, is it?

It's never too early for me.

No, I heard the rumour
this place had become Temperance Halll.

Nonsense.

Audrey and I have just been priding ourselves
on our hospitality.

Oh, I'm relieved it's not true, then.
What's not true?

Oh, nothing.

I just heard a buzz that one would be lucky
to get a pig's blister out of this estate.

Who told you that?

One of my casual labourers, in fact.
Told me he fried to get a job here.

Arthur Smith.
Is that his name?

A sort of tramp fellow?

He's been working on my estate this week.
Comes every year.

Does he work rather strange hours,
by any chance?

What if he does?

We only have to house and feed him.

Always refuses to be paid.

Mind you, I slip him the odd 50 quid.

Good evening, everybody.
Your mother let me in.

Hello, Brigadier. Would you like a drink?
Don't worry. I've brought my own.

Your own special poison, is it?

Of have you heard that the largesse of
the Grantleigh estate was lacking in some way?

Well, yes, actually.

A chap working on my estate this week told me

that Grantleigh had degenerated
to a pig's bladder.

So he's been working on your estate, has he?

That's right. A sort of tramp wallah.
Glad to have him, really.

A rare breed these chaps
who don't ask to be paid.

Mind you, we slip him something.

Well, let me slip you a large whisky.

Oh, really? All right, then.

If he's been working on Willy's estate
and the Brigadier's estate,

how could he have been working for you?

It looks as if he hasn't worked for any of you
and we've all paid him.

Well, you've certainly got to
take your hat off to him.

I most certainly will not.

No, well, let's get down fo business.
Hawkins isn't here.

No, he's doing a job for me.

I know you've all received the minutes.
Can we convey our thanks to the secretary?

I thought old Marton was secretary.

He was.

Well, short of having a séance,
I don't see how we're going to thank him.

I did them.
Oh, that's all right, then. Aye.

Aye.

Now, we come to the first item on the agenda.

Game poaching.

Now, I've been making a study of this matter.

I've had a look at the records
over the past few years.

I think there's a pattern emerging.

Take this time last year.

September 8th. There was a report
of poaching from your estate, Willy.

No-one caught. It could have been a false
alarm.

False alarm? Absolute horse feathers.

I chased the beggars myself.

But they were fitter than I was.

Right, well, on September Sth,

there was another incident at Harborough Hall.

Rotten shoot at Harborough.
Didn't get a shot all day.

That's understandable
if all the birds have been bagged in advance.

What are you getting at?

These aren't isolated cases.

It's every year at the same time.

(Starts engine)

(Wheels spin)

(Revs engine)

(Engine off)

(Bang)

By George, good stuff this.

Audrey, come along with me.
Excuse me, Willy.

Excuse me, Brigadier.
Come on.

How extraordinary.
You must have said something to upset them.

No, no, keep away.
There's somebody shooting at us.

Oh, my God!

HAWKINS: Right. Hold it, there.

SMITH: Don't shoot. Don't shoot.

Well done, Hawkins.

Just got the van stuck, sir.

Bit of weight in the back, is there?

No birds in there, sir.

Oh.

I didn't shoot them, sir.
What was it, suicide?

All right, Hawkins, let him go.

Aren't you going to hand him over to the police?
That man's a hardened criminal.

I wouldn't say that.
What would you call him, then?

A dry remnant of a garden flower.