All language subtitles for 13 - Six People, No Music

Good evening,
ladies and gentlemen.

In the television business, it's extremely
difficult to keep both feet on the ground.

I'd be happy if I had
just one foot down there.

If you think
this is easy,

you should see me trying
to get through a doorway.

And yesterday,
I accidentally

stepped through
a window.

If my arm hadn't caught in the
sash, I might still be going.

And that's not all.

Twice I've been mistaken
for a dirigible.

They keep
trying to deflate me.

I'm certain by now you have guessed
that tonight's play is about gravity

and people who resist
the Earth's pull.

You are wrong.

It's about an undertaker and
one of the persons he undertakes.

And it begins
in just a moment.

That you, Arthur?

Be five, six minutes.
Leg of lamb.

Boy, oh, boy, oh, boy,
oh, boy, oh, boy, oh, boy.

Those Hollywood dames,
just kills me.

Six, seven husbands
before they're 30.

What are you doing?

What does it look like?

How many did you have
before you got home?

A man takes one drink...

Who are you kidding?
You smell like a distillery.

Maybe if you knew what
happened to me today,

you wouldn't
begrudge me.

I don't even think
that I should tell you.

The lamb's ready.

Rhoda,
I got a terrible problem!

Maybe it was all
those extra slugs.

Slug, not slugs.

I'm telling you,
this is a crisis.

Why don't you wash up here
and save time?

The movie goes on at 7:10 and I
like to be there for the beginning.

I'm not hungry.

If you'd had
told me that in time,

I could've saved
three hours in the kitchen.

Far as I'm personally
concerned,

delicatessen suits me
soon as lamb.

Rhoda.

How about tomorrow
you cook a leg of lamb,

and I'll get crocked
and not eat?

You're not listening!

All right, I'm listening.

So what's the big crisis?

You see this?

Oh, no.
The whole thing.

It's impossible.

Stanton C. Barryvale.

The department store?

If you'd read anything
but those gossip columns,

you'd know that
he died last night.

Arthur, maybe you'd better
begin at the beginning?

All right, I will.

Only no interruptions.

Because this thing is too
complicated to complicate further.

Who's interrupting?

I got to the office this
morning as usual, about 9:00.

I didn't know
whose car it was,

but I did know it meant
business: Big business:

Morning.

Someone to see me?

Since quarter of.

Hmm.

Motherwell?
Yes.

Fulton Agnew of
Agnew and Agnew.

Oh.

The law firm.

Reason I stopped by,

I felt a phone call
wouldn't tell me enough.

About what, sir?

Character of the place.

Oh, well, the same as it's
been these last 23 years, sir.

Exactly what
interested me.

You see, we represent
the late Stanton C. Barryvale.

He was a fine man, sir.

An important man,
Motherwell.

To be perfectly frank,

most of the heirs
took it for granted

that Schwabacher would
handle the funeral.

But Mrs. Barryvale asked me to
look into some of the older parlors.

She thought her husband might
have preferred it that way.

I did go to school
with him, sir.

Through sixth grade.

And it would be
a real honor...

Do you think you can
handle it? Certainly.

I mean, prestige-wise.

The size of an operation is one
thing, taste can be quite another.

You can
depend upon it, sir.

I run a very
personal business.

In that case, I'll relay my
recommendation to the family.

And please,
include my condolences.

You can expect to
hear from me by noon.

Good morning.
Nothing new, eh?

No. Oh, just Mrs. Sotarsky. Were
you expecting anyone else, sir?

No, but I am now.

Just had a very
encouraging meeting

with Stanton C. Barryvale's
attorney.

Do you mean there's a chance I
might get to work on Mr. Barryvale?

Keeping my fingers crossed.

He was one of Poughkeepsie's
most distinguished citizens.

Sir.

You know, things seem to
be looking up around here,

so I thought this might be a good
time to discuss my own situation again.

I have high hopes for you,
Thor, high hopes.

Do you mean that, sir?

Soon as you quit
calling me "sir. "

Bad habit to get into,
bad for the profession.

We're not flunkies,
my boy.

It's an essential service we
perform and don't you forget it.

You know, it's just like I
told my old lady last night.

How'd it be, I asked her, if
nobody went into this game?

What'd she say?

You know mothers. Makes her
nervous, the kind of work I'm doing.

You have a real future.

Can I tell her that, sir?
About the future?

About my getting
a piece of the business,

like you promised me?

When was that?

When I started. Five years
ago, come next month, remember?

You said if I could stick it out
long enough to learn the trade,

there was a piece of
the business in it for me.

Well, if I said it,
I'll live with it.

But it certainly doesn't sound
like anything I'd normally promise.

Well, our situation wasn't
normal. You couldn't get any help.

Yes, well.
Well, we'll see about it.

When?

Before the week's out, I'll have a
lawyer draw up a memorandum of agreement.

Which lawyer?

I don't know.

Perhaps...

Perhaps even Agnew of Agnew and
Agnew. Is that good enough for you?

Plenty good enough. But remember,
weekend's on Saturday, Mr. Motherwell.

All right.
Bring it right in here.

That's right.
Right over there.

I thought you'd never get here.
You held up my whole lunch.

Easy, easy.

Did you get him
started, yet?

No. They just
this second left.

Oh, that's him, all right.

Sure is and about time. I waited
right through my lunch hour.

Then take it now.
I'll get him started.

Ordinarily I wouldn't care.
About lunch, that is.

But I slammed out
with no breakfast...

Take a full hour.

No, I'll just grab
a bite at the drugstore.

Before you go, better
ring the musician's local.

Put a hold on their
best string quartet.

Hey, sounds like Stanton Barryvale's
really going out in style.

Naturally.

Hello?

Speaking.

Oh, yes, Mr. Agnew.
Just a few minutes ago.

Fine. Now, I've a detailed
list of instructions for you.

My girl will send you
a carbon by messenger.

But I just want to alert
you on the major items.

Thirty limousines.

A string quartet
to back up the choir.

Right.
Minimum of 300 guests.

Organist,
canopy and chairs.

Yes, of course we can handle
the memorial reception.

Yes, Mr. Agnew.

And I'm sure
you'll be very pleased.

Boy, oh, boy, oh, boy,
oh, boy, oh, boy, oh, boy.

And how does that thing go?

Sounds like somebody
clearing his throat.

Precisely.

What are you saying,
Arthur?

I'm saying that Stanton
C. Barryvale was sitting up

looking terrible sick.

Why wouldn't he
if he was dead?

Arthur, are you
telling the truth?

Of course I'm
telling you the truth.

In 23 years, it's
happened to me twice only.

The first time,
you remember,

was that Winkleman boy.

He came to in the shop

and he's still around,
I believe.

Since 1935.

He's still around.

And a very mean job
he turned out.

But I don't
see the crisis.

Unless Barryvale's
still around?

Please.

No interruptions, remember?
Let me finish.

Now, you can understand

that this sort of thing doesn't
happen every day in the week.

So, when
Stanton C. Barryvale

sat up

and asked me...

Who are you?

Well, I'm Arthur Motherwell.

Who'd you expect?
I'll ask the questions.

Or don't you know
whom you're addressing?

Why, yes, sir.
You're Stanton C. Barryvale

and you run the finest
department store in Poughkeepsie

and it's a pleasure to
talk to you, sir. Only...

Only what?

Only... Well...

Nothing.
Come off it, man.

Why the devil are you converging
on me with all those weapons?

Weapons? Oh, no, no,
no. No weapons, sir.

Just the tools of the trade,
so to speak.

What trade?
Well, speak up, man.

I'm accustomed
to a direct answer.

Embalming, sir. You
see, I run this parlor.

Oh.

That Motherwell.

One and the same, sir.

And the fact is, sir,
you... Well, like I say, you

died last night.

10:53 p. m.

Huh?

I knew it must be
something like that.

I feel light as a feather.

Yes, sir.

Peculiar sensation.

And cold, too.

I must have a temperature
of below zero.

Just you relax, sir, and I'll get
Summit General Hospital on the phone.

No, no, don't do that.
It'll just cause talk.

And I'm going out again
in a minute anyway.

Maybe a couple
of pick-up pills?

Too late for that,
Motherwell.

Never push goods on
people that they can't use.

Secret of the department
store business.

But what they can use,
load them up to the gills.

Good psychology.
It's a big thought.

What was it?
What was it?

"It," sir?

The thing that
made me come back.

While you were talking a
minute ago, I almost had it.

And then it went away.

While I was talking?

Of course, it's you!

You're why I came back.

Maybe you should
reconsider that pill, sir.

My funeral was
never settled.

Or perhaps
a sip of brandy?

I remember now. I never arranged
the details of my funeral.

Not uncommon, sir.

Most folks leave that
sort of thing to their,

if you'll pardon the
expression, their heirs.

At a moment like this,
my wife and kids feel bad.

They're bound to spend
more than is necessary

and what's
the sense to that?

Yes, I see your point,
Mr. Barryvale.

I don't want the estate to be drained
of a solitary nickel that's unnecessary.

Too many
important things,

investments, foundations.

Don't you see it,
Motherwell?

That's what revived me.

Whatever it was, it
certainly shows a strong will.

Some kind of leftover power
in my brain brought me back.

But what can you
do about it?

Mr. Agnew is
the executor.

Mr. Agnew is
a horse's backside.

Are you sure you won't join
me in a drink, Mr. Barryvale?

I have some good
10-year-old stuff.

Stop diverting me. All I want from
you is a pen and paper. Get them.

Now what's the cheapest
way you can do it?

And I mean rock bottom.

Well, it all depends on
number of people, cars,

music or not,
type of casket, et cetera.

That's what I figured.
Big leeway there.

And I was fool enough to let Agnew
draw up that blasted will to read,

"After all funeral expenses have
been paid, blah, blah, blah. "

Well, we'll take care
of it, Motherwell.

Give me that paper.

I'll specify cheapest
funeral possible.

"Six people, no music,

"one car and an
unpainted pine box. "

The pine market still low?

Very.

You have any trouble,
you show them this.

Can I use the phone?
No.

Just give me your word, as a
gentleman, you'll handle it my way.

But this paper's
no good, sir.

You're legally dead as
of 10:53 p. m. Last night.

That's why I'm dating it
the day before yesterday,

and it's in my handwriting,
no mistake about that.

What's the time now?

12:28 p. m.

Well, let's make it
12:30, officially.

September 5th, 1958.

And now, I'll sign it.

Thank you, Motherwell.

And it was nice
talking to you.

Six people, no music.

I caught the messenger service
guy out front, Mr. Motherwell.

Good. That must be the
confirmation of Mr. Agnew's order.

I bet it calls
for 100 guests.

Minimum of 300.

You don't say!

Do you mind if I read it?

I mean, since I'm almost
a member of the firm.

Oh, sure.
Go ahead and open it.

"Limousines, 30."

Hey, that's 3-0!

"Floral arrangement,
pre-preponderance of white orchids

"and American beauties. Use your
discretion. Price no object. "

You all right, Mr.
Motherwell? Of course, I am.

You don't look too good.
Everything go all right in there?

I didn't have a chance
to get started.

But why shouldn't it?

I've only been laying people
out for the last 23 years.

No offense, sir. You just don't
look too good and I thought...

I'm fine.
Good.

Hey, good thing I contacted
the musicians' local.

They do want
a string quartet.

You just put a hold
on it, didn't you?

Yeah. But now we can
make it an order, right?

What's that?

An order, the music.
Now, that it's official.

You want me to call them? I'll
be very happy to call them.

No, I'll take care of that.
You just handle...

Oh, yeah. Sure thing.

So you didn't tell him?

Tell him what?

That the big
funeral was out.

I didn't tell him because
I didn't have the heart.

After all, that kid's been
building his hopes for years.

What about the florist?

And the musicians' union?

And the car rental.

Oh, I'll phone them
in the morning.

I mean, those fellows, they don't require
too much notice one way or the other.

Well, just one
of those things.

You can say that again.

But, like you said,

there's no doubt about
what's the right thing to do.

Picture goes on
in 15 minutes.

That's right.

Well, there's only
one thing to do.

Careful, darling.
You'll burn your hands.

I won't, dear.

It's not like
he couldn't afford it.

Anyways, why cheat family and
friends from paying proper respect?

Crossed my mind, too.

What's more, he had no
right to do what he did.

None whatsoever.

A man legally dead,
after all.

Do you know where
we're gonna sit tonight?

Loges.

That's right.
Costly but smoking.

That, I'm certain, is the only example
we have of a man dying posthumously.

Mr. Barryvale's funeral turned
out to be a very gala occasion.

Especially for
Mr. Motherwell.

It produced quite
a business boom for him.

You see, someone accidentally put embalming
fluid in the coffee that was served.

But so much for
life's lighter side.

I hope you rejoin me
after this next number.

Personally, I think
I shall sit it out.

That was short and sweet.

Toot sweet.

Well, that's a hopeful sign.

Next week I shall return
with another story.

Perhaps by then
I shall have settled down.

Good night.

Subtitles by: drvvr