All language subtitles for Night Gallery S02E09 House - With Ghost.DVDRip.NonHI.en.UNVSL

SERLING: Starring tonight:

Bob Crane,

Jo Anne Worley,

Victor Buono,

Forrest Tucker,

and John Astin.

Good evening, art lovers.

For your enjoyment
and edification,

three paintings are on display.

Part of a collection of kookery
unique to this special exhibit.

Painting number one,

out of the real estate section
of a ghost town weekly.

A ginger-bready item quite
appropriately called House with Ghost.

This, ladies and gentlemen,
is the Night Gallery.

This apartment is a
dump, Iris. Let's face it.

It's a sweet little flat in the
heart of London, and I like it, Ellis.

Come on, face it, love.

We got the bad
end of a lousy swap.

"A", the Twitchells got our
whole house in New Jersey,

while we got stuck with their
tacky little three-room dump.

At no extra expense to us, Ellis.
And in London, you know what I mean?

"B", the expense isn't really
important to us. And "C",

for three months we haven't once
been able to entertain properly.

Well, I think we've
done quite nicely, Ellis.

Really?

A few of your afternoon
séances, some buffet suppers

with a lot of plates being balanced
on people's knees. Come on, love.

Let's really throw some
parties. Meet the right people.

Here you go.

"Visiting England?

"Rent a house in the city or
countryside by the month or season.

"Charming residences
at reasonable rates,

"with or without ghosts."

Ghosts?

"Chichester's, Piccadilly."

What do you say I run down, see
what we can rent on a short-term basis?

Not that we need a ghost, of course, but
something with some grounds and elegance.

Why not with a ghost?

You really do just flip right
past my interests, don't you?

I like that idea, a
house with a ghost.

Then you don't know
me at all, do you?

A house with spirits in it
seeking to express themselves.

Well, there's a whole
motif for entertaining

right there, Ellis, you
know what I mean?

If it pleases you, my love.

You sure it won't
overload your Ouija board?

Oh!

I might point out to you that it's not very
in these days to be unspiritual, Ellis,

you know what I mean? Mmm-hmm.

Go ahead, see what they've got.

Something with a
money-back guarantee.

Not too expensive. And
not for more than a month.

Of course, my love.

That should be
quite long enough.

Uh-uh, uh-uh.

You Americans
rush past everything.

Now there's a perfectly
splendid house.

Solid brick, Georgian, cool in summer
and right on the edge of London.

Mr. Chichester, I'm looking for
something outside the city. More space.

I'll know it when I see it.

With a ghost, you said.

Yes.

It's the main
attraction for my wife.

Your first ghost, Mr. Travers?

Stay with a suburban spirit.

They wear so much
better over the long haul.

There's no banging
around until after sunset.

But your country ghosts,
they're up at the crack of dawn.

"A", Mr. Chichester. This is not
going to be for the long haul. And "B",

I think the country air would
be better for my wife's health.

Oh...

Invalid starved for company.
I get numbers of those.

Wrong. My wife has dizzy spells.
Nothing serious, it's just inconvenient.

And "C", Mr. Travers?

Is there any special reason
for a large country house?

It has to do with the feel of the
place. I'll know it when I see it.

Uh-uh, uh-uh, uh-uh.

Here, now.

Oh. First time.

Canby Hall, in the Cotswolds.

Is that more what you
had in mind, Mr. Travers?

Yes. Very dramatic.

The staircase. I like that.

It's good for special
occasions, this house.

Yes, just what I was thinking.
This is with ghost, isn't it?

Oh, yes, sir. You see the asterisk
down here, that is "with ghost."

By the way, are you set
on any particular placement?

Placement?

Well, there's your bedroom
ghost, your hall ghost,

attic ghost... We've had
quite a glut of attic ghosts.

That's not really
important, Mr. Chichester.

As a matter of fact,
I have a one-story

ranchito tract house
just outside of Liverpool

with a rumpus room ghost.

But here, Canby Hall... Now, this
is your stairwell ghost. Will that do?

A stairwell ghost?
Yes, I like that.

That's perfect.

A perfect ghost!

That's the kind of thing that gives an
agent a splendid sense of accomplishment.

Ah, just a moment.

I'll put Mrs. Canby's address
on the top of the lease forms.

And then if you want
to extend past a month,

you can write to
her direct in Brighton.

Mr. Chichester. Why doesn't
she live at Canby Hall?

Mrs. Canby?

Well, I suppose it's because of
Mr. Canby's still being there, so to speak.

You won't mind,
will you, Mr. Travers?

Mr. Canby being a ghost for
such a relatively short time?

You see, I feel from my
professional judgment,

that he's going to do an
excellent job of spooking around.

He's got what it takes.

Hmm? What makes you say that?

He's a skinflint.
Restless nature.

Brutal in his business
deals. Tenacious.

There's no way his widow
could take up residence there,

particularly after he groused
at the way she broke his will.

She got every
farthing, that woman.

There is nothing worse
than a couple squabbling

after death has
cheerfully pried them apart.

Yes. That would be awful.

Well, these gardens
are an absolute mess.

Our ghost does not have a green
thumb, you know what I mean?

Oh, I like that.

What a splendid
entrance I can make.

I can really sweep down these
stairs, you know what I mean, Ellis?

Yes, my dear, I visualized you at the very
foot of it the moment I saw the photos.

Marble must be two inches thick.

That's quality construction.

Obviously, Canby can't
take the credit for it, though.

This place has been in
some earl's family for years.

Canby pinned him to the
wall on some business deal.

Dragged him through the courts till
he got everything, including this place.

And Canby, why is he a ghost?

The very day that Canby was
dispossessing them, the earl's young wife,

pregnant at the time, either fell or
hurled herself down these very steps.

He grieved for about a year,
then the earl shot Canby dead.

Well, who says
Canby's a ghost now?

Mrs. Canby. She tried staying here,
lasted just a week. Apparently he...

Iris?

Come on, we'll go slowly.

The bedroom is at
the top of the stairs.

I'll be all right. In a minute.

Look I'll give a
local doc a call.

No. I've already
seen a doctor, Ellis.

Look, it doesn't hurt to have somebody in
the neighborhood know about these spells.

Better?

Get on.

You just pick it up
and talk into it, love.

And that little wire coming out
of it goes into a lot of other wires,

and pretty soon, one of them
comes right into my apartment

and then I have you on the phone
and I can hear your sweet voice.

And stop cursing your bloody guts for
leaving me hanging for three whole days.

Sherry, darling. We've been
moving and I couldn't get over.

I did call you, pigeon. But you
were running around somewhere.

I was running
around? Oh, I like that.

Sitting here and mooning for you and you
think, 'cause I'm out to Lyons for a cake,

I'm running around! Oh, lovie.

Aren't we never gonna
trip off to Cannes?

And stew in that super sun?

Just hang on a bit, can't you? We've
almost got a settlement worked out.

You've been talking about that divorce
for weeks, Ellis. Can't you speed it up?

No, I can't hurry it up. It's not...
It's not an easy business for me.

It takes careful planning.
It's not my money.

Sherry, 2,000 a month!

That's worth waiting for!

Yes. Yes. I'll try. Bye, lovely.

Ellis! Ellis!

Iris!

It dragged me. Something
dragged me here.

Come here, sweetheart. Maybe
you were just walking in your sleep.

No. There were hands.
I'm almost sure I felt hands!

She seems to be perfectly
all right, Mr. Travers.

Possibly it's just the excitement
of moving into a new place.

What is it, Doctor?

I don't know who looked at
your wife in the past, Mr. Travers,

but it's not just a
simple case of vertigo.

Huh.

We were assured it
wasn't anything serious.

By whom?

A specialist. The inner ear.
It's called Meniere's syndrome.

It makes you dizzy sometimes,
but certainly nothing dangerous.

That's true enough, Mr. Travers.
But this is something else.

A larger deterioration,
quite another problem.

It struck my sister in
much the same way.

We'll do a biopsy, of course, and
we won't say anything about it yet.

But, realistically, I'm
afraid she hasn't long to live.

How long?

Well, Louisa, that's my
sister, lasted eight months.

The pain wasn't too bad.
And she spent the time well.

But it's hard on us,
this kind of tragedy.

It changes one's plans so much.

Yes. Doesn't it.

Feeling better, love?

My back is killing me.

This mattress feels like it's stuffed
with sand, you know what I mean?

Mmm-hmm.

Well, if you'll excuse me, love,
I'm doing a steak for myself.

Sherry?

Oh, Ellis?

"A", I am keeping my promise. "B",
it'll only be for a few more months.

No, ducky, not even
a few more hours.

What do you mean?

"A", forget it, Ellis.

"B", don't worry your little
head about a single thing,

because "C", it's
all over, ducky!

Ellis?

Yes.

What's the matter?

Nothing. Nothing anymore.

Iris?

Mr. Travers?

It's just a bill. For services
rendered. Slight push.

I don't need any services.

Mr. Canby?

But you asked for
them. A steep staircase,

marble steps, dizzy spells on
record with the good Dr. Crown.

It was obvious even to a ghost.
It's nothing you can't afford.

Only 2,000 a month. For life.

No.

Come, come, come, come, come.
But you set the figure yourself.

I wasn't gonna
go through with it.

I was going to wait
till she died. I swear it.

Well, I wasn't. I am an
impatient man, Mr. Travers. Here!

I caution you.

I have quite a reputation of
hounding my creditors to death.

No! This is mad.

What do you need money for?

"A", I am a man of my word.
"B", I have responsibilities.

To whom, your widow?
She's in great shape.

No sweat. She's
living in Brighton.

She's having a ball.
Just ask Mr. Chichester.

No, Mr. Travers.

You see, my wife upset the provisions
of my will, she troubled my afterlife.

No, Mrs. Canby won't be getting
another shilling from me or you.

The full address of
the person you'll make

the payments to is
on the top of this bill.

She's living in Manchester.

Ah! She's a wonderful woman.

I wouldn't go back on my promises
to her for anything in the world.

Not for anything.
You see, Mr. Travers,

I, too, had a bird on the side.

Like yourself, I'd do anything in the
world for her. You know what I mean?

I gave at the office.

Oh.

Sorry.

As our third selection,
an item from the past.

That uniquely American
institution known as the pitchman.

The wheeler and dealer
of magical nostrums

guaranteed to cure, to palliate,

to bring back the glow of health
to everything but a cadaver.

Bottled dreams, if you will.

Our painting is called
Dr. Stringfellow's Rejuvenator.

Drink hearty.

May I have your attention, ladies
and gentlemen? Your attention, please?

Now I call your attention to
Dr. Stringfellow's Rejuvenator.

A strengthening cordial that invigorates
the stomach, stimulates the liver,

regulates the kidneys, and restores
health and vitality of the blood.

Gives new life and vigor to
all the tissues of the body.

It promptly stops the diseases to those
organs peculiar to both male and female.

An absolute cure for
eruptions of the skin.

An excellent remedy for chills
and dizziness and fevers of all kinds.

Additionally, it stops cholera
and all epidemic diseases.

Fevers of all kind, particularly
that great scourge, yellow fever.

It is the consumptive's great
rejuvenator, the purifier of all the world.

It strengthens and supports
the system like bands of iron.

Now, ladies and gentlemen,

in any sizeable city, this remarkable
rejuvenator could easily cost

$10 a bottle, if
it was available.

The fact is, it is not available. I
am its creator and sole proprietor.

And since I'm a man
who seeks not to profit

from the pain, the misery and
the anguish of my fellow men,

I offer this to you at pennies
more than its production cost.

One dollar a bottle.
Six bottles for $5.

But the supply is limited. I urge you to
make haste in making your purchases.

Now, my assistant
will pass among you,

and remember,
no jostling please.

And only six bottles
to one customer.

Better make the
right change, dummy.

Mmm.

Now, before I find out
how much money we've lost

because you don't know
how to add and subtract,

who was that you were
talking to out there?

I don't know who he was.

You don't know?

He was asking questions
and you were answering them.

Well, he just...

He just asked who I was,

and where I'm from, and what's in
the medicine that we've been selling.

And you don't know who he was!

No, sir. I don't.

Besides, all he wanted to know
was how long we was gonna be here.

And you told him what?

I told him...

I told him I didn't know.

Well...

A revelation! At last.

The big, hairless gawk finally
came up with the right response.

I'll tell you something about
those desert dwellers out there,

and for that matter, all the citizenry
of the soil in every burg on this earth.

They got very short
tempers and long memories.

And that combination can send a
man out into the night on a greasy pole,

with equal amounts
of tar and feathers.

Gently, Goliath, gently.

Wipe that guilty look off your
face and see who's at the door.

Can I see Dr. Stringfellow?

That would be me, sir.

I was wondering if maybe...

Come in, come in.

No need to stand out in the
desert sun and addle your brains.

Here, sit down.

Now, how can I be
of service to you?

I got a sick kid. Real sick.

There are no
doctors around here,

and then I saw your wagon,
and you call yourself...

A doctor, yes. I have a medical
degree from the Vienna Academy

and several other equally
prestigious universities.

Could... Could you look at her?

She's in terrible pain. And I
ain't got no medicine or anything.

Well, unfortunately, I've
retired from private practice.

I got money, Doc.

I was saving it up for a new
plow or some fixing on the barn.

Yeah, well, it's not a question
of money. I never heal for profit.

Oh, perhaps if I just took a look at
her, maybe I could prescribe something.

I'd be obliged to you,
Doc. I really would.

Her ma died a little over a year ago,
and her sister the year before that.

So she's all I got.

Yes, yes. Indeed, indeed.

Well, Rolpho, be a good lad and hand
me a bottle of that rejuvenator, would you?

This won't take long.

Pa? Pa, is that you?

It's me, honey.

I brung this good doctor here.
And he's gonna make you well.

It hurts so terrible, Pa.

It hurts so terrible bad.

Where is the pain, child?

Right here.

But growin'.

Growin' all over.

It's an abdominal disorder.

What can you do, Doc? Is there
any way you can stop that pain?

Well you just give her a tablespoon
of this rejuvenator every two hours,

and, well, it'll start to
take effect by morning.

And it'll cure her?

Oh, without a doubt,
sir. Yes, without a doubt.

You just give her the
dosage I've prescribed

and, well, she ought to
be all right early next week.

God bless you, Doc.

Just a dollar for
the rejuvenator,

and a small
honorarium for my time.

It's Dr. Stringfellow?

I'm afraid that you
have the advantage, sir.

Doubtful. I ran out of
advantages a long time ago.

But the name is Snyder.
It used to be Dr. Snyder.

Snyder. Snyder. Oh, yes.

I knew a Dr. Snyder at the Paris
Institute when I was studying there.

Oh, and another Snyder, a colleague
of mine when I was called to Bulgaria

to perform surgery
on the then king...

I'm afraid that your
humor eludes me, sir.

Oh, does it?

Now let me tell you
something, Dr. Stringfellow.

That little girl there in the
wagon, bathed in sweat.

If the pain's on the
right side, it's appendix.

And if the face is
gray and the pain is

insufferable, then it's
probably peritonitis.

And if it is the appendix, and
it's been going on for a week,

all that's needed now is a
shovel and a small plot of earth.

A diagnosis by a drunk.

Doubtless.

But with a far sight more truth than
the labels on those bottles of yours.

Nine dollars!

Traveled 300 miles
for nine dollars!

What about that little girl?

What little girl?
Oh, that little girl.

That little girl will be
dead within 48 hours.

Said demise can
hardly be considered a

testimonial for
Dr. Stringfellow's Rejuvenator.

So right after supper
we'll be on our way,

hopefully be 50 miles from here
before the sad event takes place.

Couldn't you do nothing for her?

Nothing short of a resurrection.

What's a resurrection?

The bringing back of the dead.

Could you do that?

Could you bring her
back from the dead?

My dear moonstruck boy,

if there was enough money in
it, I would give it one powerful try.

And this would
be a night for it.

Bartender, another
bottle of this.

Two dollars.

Swill that passes
itself off as whiskey!

Two dollars to
curdle your insides.

It's a lot better than
the stuff we sell.

I'm sorry?

Nothing.

No, go on, Rolpho. A
passing judgment perhaps?

Some critical comment
on something or other

that you dredged up out of
that thin ditch you call a brain?

Well...

It's just that you keep on telling
them people it cures all them things.

All them sicknesses
and diseases.

Even that sick little girl.

And all it is is just a little
caramel color, a little wood alcohol

and a little burnt
cork. It don't seem fair.

You just don't understand,
do you, Rolpho?

All right, so it doesn't
cure dyspepsia.

So it has no effect on boils
or yellow fever or the dropsy.

So what?

Do you know what's in
Dr. String's Rejuvenator?

Uh-uh.

Dreams. It should
be on the label.

One part wishful thinking,
one part ignorance,

and one part the sweat of
little men who seek immortality

and are dumb enough
to think it can be bottled.

I should be getting $100
a swallow for that stuff.

And a medal at the same time.

Because I give hope to the
hopeless, dreams to the dreamless.

An illusion of
health to all the poor,

doomed yokels who'd
have a dollar in their jeans.

You see, I let them get a
little peek over the pigsty

and get a view of heaven.

Hmm?

Doc, she's so weak.

She can't hardly
say anything now.

She just lies there
whimpering with the pain.

And she's hardly breathin'.

Take some advice, my friend.
Keep her covered and warm.

Give her enough whiskey to
make her numb. And find a reverend.

You told me she'd be well again.

Who the hell do you
think he is, Saint Francis?

This is a medicine man, mister! He'll
break your heart for a 50-cent piece!

What am I gonna do?
What about my kid?

What am I gonna do? She's lying out there
on that buckboard, dyin' an inch at a time.

Rolpho, go get me another
bottle of the rejuvenator.

My dear God, haven't you...

Rolpho, go do what I told you.

If you think for one...

Be quiet, Dr. Snyder.

Dr. Snyder here is the
protector of the common good.

A drunk and a sot and an
unhealed healer, but he...

He claims to speak
for the speechless.

You know what I do,
brother? I sell faith.

I'm going to give that
child of yours enough belief

so that she can kick her
way out of a pine coffin,

if she needs to be. Do
you understand me?

If that child crosses
over into the shadows,

I am gonna bring
her back to life!

Now, you go get her.

Why don't you just bushwhack him out there
in the storm and knife him for his wallet?

Compared to what you're doing, that
would be an act of Christian charity.

For a soused-up wreck, you've got a
lot of judgments in you, haven't you?

Well, for the moment, why don't you
just go back to your bottle and shut up.

Or better,

you go out to that mournful man and read
him some Latin out of the medical books.

Or you tell him with the
charts how irrevocable death is.

And then see who
he believes, hmm?

You or me.

She's dead.

Another of your razor-sharp
perceptions, huh?

But not an unworthy
effort on my part.

I just took the long shot.

If she'd lived, they'd be speaking
my name down at the Texas border.

Let's go, Rolpho. There are
other towns, and other sheep.

You're leaving us, Doctor?

Well, I'm a traveling man.

And you'll never run out of
places to travel to, will you?

Or poor, ignorant people to rob.

Or deep pools of misery to go
wading into with your dirty feet.

What a prince of a fellow
you are, Medicine Man.

But there's a
service you perform.

Whoever stands next to you,

that could be the devil himself,

you make him look like God.

Is this a haunt
or a resurrection?

Did you kick yourself
out of that pine box,

or are you some floating spirit
come to point a finger at me?

You stay.

Stay right where you are, child.

Stay where you are!

I just don't understand it. That
sign missed him by a good foot.

His heart just quit
on him, I reckon.

Well, I'll just leave you in
here to pay your respects.

Bring the lantern
when you come out.

Fool old man.
Thought you was smart.

Turns out, you be the
dumbest of them all.

What'd you do that for?

Why not? Nothin' in
there worth anything.

Nothin' in there
worth anything either.

Our final selection
this evening,

an import from
that other region,

that infernal
inferno down below.

Offered to you now in living color
and with a small scent of sulphur.

Our painting is
called Hell's Bells.

Blasphemer!

Liar!

Parasite.

Cynic!

Cheat!

Hypocrite!

Thief!

Idolator!

Slob! You are a slob!

Hey, lady, is this it?

Is this what?

You know. Hell?

No, this is the waiting room!

We're very rushed.

They're sending too many
people down here lately.

I don't know what
they expect us to do!

You'll just have to take
your turn, just like every...

I don't know what you think
this is all about, young man,

but this is no pigpen.

Neat. You've got to be neat!

Don't get uptight with me, lady.

Fat Lady!

I'm hip.

Fat Lady, all I was doing
was driving my car...

I don't have any
time for discussions!

Well, that's pretty far out.

So this is it, huh? Hell.

But, man, how bad can it be?

That's a trip.

Unbelievable.

Hey, records, man.

Maybe I can hear some music.

Wow, that's the most fantastic
stack of records I've ever seen.

Hey, they got one
of my groups here.

Hey, can you do
something about that music?

Slob.

Nice weather for
this time of year.

Hey, man, am I glad to see you!

I thought I was going to
have to wait alone in this room.

Hey, can you tell me, what time
does the next group leave for hell?

Of course, it's colder than last Tuesday.
But no point in worrying about that.

It's warmer than it was two
weeks ago come Thursday.

Hey, you're right, man. That's beautiful!
We got to talk about other things,

get our minds off this
place and that music.

Yeah. Hey, isn't that something
about the Beatles splitting up?

Best thing for beetles
is tincture of arsenic.

'Course, down on the farm, we
used to use old-fashioned zinc powder.

Rain'd wash it off, till
granddaddy mixed it with glue.

No, man, I'm talking
about the group.

Baby had the croup once. Grandma mixed
up some camphor and boiled it in sulphur.

Hey, you know something, man?
You are boring. Yeah, you are a bore.

This whole place
is boring! Bummer!

You're in luck.
Yes, siree. Luck!

The little woman here is
gonna show you the 8,500 slides

she took of our trip
down to Tijuana, Mexico.

How many slides?

Eight thousand, five
hundred. Oh, no, man. No!

Come on. I want
to see the Devil!

Where are you, man?
Show your ugly face!

Having a good time?

Are you the Devil?

I am.

Hey, man. That's far out.

I'll get the lights, dear.

Hey, tell me.
What is this put-on?

I beg your pardon?

I mean, how long are you gonna
keep me in this dumb room?

I mean, when do we go
to hell? The whips and the

chains, the boiling oil,
snakes, all that stuff?

This is it.

What do you mean,
this is it? This is hell?

Yes.

This first one I took from
the freeway in San Diego.

My dear boy, hell is never what you
expect it to be. But for you, this is it.

Don't you like it?

No, man. It's a downer.

Yes, it is, isn't it?

Of course, you can't see it too clearly
because Fred was driving so fast.

You know, it's a curious thing, but they
have exactly the same room up there.

What do you mean? That
guy, those slide people,

this wallpaper, they
got that in heaven?

Yes. You see, while this room is
hell for you, an absolute beastly hell,

up there, the identical room is
someone else's idea of heaven.

Think about that. Bye.

No.

Bummer. Bummer.
Bummer. Bummer. Bummer.

Now, this one shows the
new 747 on its way to Hawaii.

No, dear, that's a seagull.

Oh, I thought it was
one of those new 747s.

Anyhow, that blur in the corner
is part of the Navy shipyard.

It was supposed to be an
aircraft carrier but I missed it.

You can still see part of the
anchor, that line in the corner,

right down there to the right.