All language subtitles for Rumpole s07e06 rial.eng

Subtitles downloaded from www.OpenSubtitles.org

Busy day ahead of you, Mr Rumpole?

Open just a little wider.

What terrible crime are we on today?

(Makes indistinct sounds)

My old lady? You mean Yolanda?

I'm not sure
she'd be too keen on being called that.

(Indistinct sounds)

Did something to her back... playing golf.

Of course, golf covers
a multitude of sins, hmm?

Especially for the ladies
of Hampstead Garden Suburb.

Bite together.

Rinse now, please.

- What were we talking about?
- Manslaughter.

Not really. Yolanda can be
extremely irritating at times,

but I've never felt the need
to bash her over the head.

No, I was talking about my case
down the Bailey.

My client, a man called Tong,
is accused of manslaughter.

Killed his wife, Mrs Tong.
She fell, hit her head on the fender.

How fascinating.
I've only done a temporary job.

Give me a ring if you have any trouble.
It should see you through the day.

It might take more than a temporary job
to see me through the day.

I am before Mr Justice OIlie Oliphant.

Ow!

Oh, sorry, Rumpole.

Oh, I do apologise. "Sorry, Rumpole."

Miss Probert bashes into you,
nearly knocks everything flying

and all she says is "Sorry, Rumpole"
on the trot! Ow!

"Sorry, Rumpole.

"Sorry for sending your client to chokey,

"sorry for not letting you see
all the prosecution statements,

"sorry for treading on your foot on the
Circle Line, sorry for pinching your..."

- Have you pinched my bands, Inchcape?
- Sorry, Rumpole?

You have. Honestly, Inchcape!

This barristers' robing room is
little better than a den of thieves!

These are my bands.
There are some bands on the table.

Slightly soiled. Probably yours.

"Slightly soiled? Probably yours?
Sorry, Rumpole?" They are not mine!

Well, sorry, whoever they do belong to.

The bloody man's presumably got mine
anyway! Sorry, whoever you are!

Hello, Erskine-Brown.
What are you sorry about?

I'm not sorry about anything. I meant
to ask you about calling your client.

- Mr Tong?
- Yes. Are you calling him?

That's an easy one. I'm calling him
Mr Tong because that's his name.

Will you call him into the witness box?

I have to do this murder in Lewes. One
has so many demands, now one's in silk.

If you're not calling him,
maybe we could finish today?

Are those my bands you're wearing?
What's that written on them?

- "CEB." Claude Erskine-Brown.
- When did you write that?

Oh, really, Rumpole!
Are you calling your client?

Wait and see.

- He's not in a good mood.
- We collided at the entrance.

He didn't even say sorry.

Hold the Bible in your right hand
and read from the card.

"I swear by...

"...that the evidence I give
shall be the truth, the whole truth,

"and nothing but the truth."

Mr Rumpole, your client's left something
out of the oath.

- So I noticed, my lord.
- See to it. Use your common sense!

Mr Tong, who is it that you swear by?

One I would not drag down
to the level of this place, sir.

What's he mean?
"Drag down to the level of this place?"

What's he mean by that?

I think he means, my lord, that
the Almighty may not wish to be seen

in Court Number 4 at the Old Bailey.

Are you saying my court
isn't good enough for God? Is that it?

I'm saying, my lord, that this court
is a place of sin and worldliness

and we should not involve
a certain person in these proceedings.

May I remind your lordship
of the Book of Ezekiel?

"And it shall be unto them a false
divination to them that has sworn oaths!"

Never mind about the Book of Ezekiel.

Mr Rumpole,
can't you control your client?

Unfortunately, no. Perhaps
your lordship would have more luck.

The first thing we learnt at the Bar
was how to control our clients.

It's a pity you weren't brought up in
common-sensical chambers in the north.

Yes, I might have acquired some of
your lordship's charm and polish.

Yes...

Now, let's use our common sense
about this.

Mr Tong, do you understand what it is
to tell the truth?

I've always told the truth
in my 30 years in the ministry.

Is your client a man of the cloth,
Mr Rumpole?

I think he means the Ministry
of Agriculture and Fisheries

where he was a clerk for many years.

- You know what it is to tell the truth?
- Yes.

There, members of the jury. That's
the way to do it. Let's get on, shall we?

I assure your lordship I can't wait.

Ow!

- Are you all right, Mr Rumpole?
- It's this temporary stopping.

Why are you stopping, Mr Rumpole?

Why can't he shut up?

Mr Tong, you were married
to the late Sarah Tong?

On the 13th of March, 1950,

in what was then the village of Pinner.

The weather, as I remember it,
was particularly inclement.

- Dark skies and a snow flurry.
- Never mind about the weather.

I took it as a portent of storms to come,
my lord.

Just tell the jury of your married life.

It is only with the greatest respect
and due deference

that I adopt the words
of the Book of Proverbs.

Your lordship is no doubt familiar
with Chapter 21.

"It is better to dwell
in a corner of the housetop

"than with a brawling woman
in a wide house.

"It is better to dwell in the wilderness

"than with a contentious
and an angry woman."

(Plays classical music)

- It's about Rumpole.
- I thought it must be.

- He gets so tired.
- So does Guthrie.

- Rumpole needs a rest.
- I don't think Guthrie needs that.

He needs something to jolt him
into some sort of activity.

- I mean at night.
- I mean at night too!

All day he's doing such exciting things,

dressing up in funny costumes, sending
people to prison, all that nonsense,

but when he gets home,
he's flat as a pancake.

Is Rumpole flat as a pancake too?

- Well, no, not exactly.
- Lucky you!

- Lucky?
- You mean he actually does something?

No, nothing in particular. He drinks
his claret, if you can call it claret.

He's so irritable and he's had
terrible trouble with his teeth.

If only Rumpole could get a job
sitting down!

- Like a clerk or something?
- Something like a judge.

- Really?
- Well, I don't mean a red judge.

Not a really posh judge like Guthrie, no.

A circus judge.
That's what Rumpole calls them.

Guthrie knows such important people!

- I suppose I might ask.
- Oh, Marigold, would you?

Rumpole would be better tempered
if only he were a sitting judge.

This is intolerable. We've been through
half the Old Testament! For God's sake!

- My lord!
- All right, for all our sakes!

When are we going to come
to the facts of this manslaughter?

Mr Tong...

on the night this ACCIDENT occurred...

That's for the jury to decide.
Why do you call it an accident?

Why did your lordship call it
manslaughter?

Surely that is for the jury to decide!

Did I say that, Mr Erskine-Brown?

Yes. I thought you were joining
the prosecution team!

Or was that a single-handed effort
to prejudice the jury?

Mr Rumpole, that was
a quite intolerable thing to say.

My lord, that was
a quite intolerable thing to do!

I may have had a slip of the tongue.

Or your lordship's well-known
common sense may have deserted him.

Mr Rumpole,
I think you should be warned.

One of these days you may go too far.

Now, can we get on?

Certainly, my lord.

I did not wish to interrupt the flow
of your lordship's rebuke!

Mr Tong, on the night in question,
did you and your wife quarrel?

- As per usual.
- What was the subject of the quarrel?

She accused me of being overly
familiar with a near neighbour.

A certain Mrs Grabowicz, my lord.

A lady of Polish extraction
whose deceased husband had,

by a curious coincidence, been
a colleague of mine in the Ministry of...

Mr Tong! Forget the neighbour's
deceased husband, if you'd be so kind!

What did your wife do?

She ran at me with her nails poised as
though to scratch me across the face,

as it was often her habit so to do.

However, as ill luck would have it,

the runner in front of the gas fire
slipped beneath her feet

and she... she fell.

As she did so, the back of her head
made contact with the raised tiling

in front of our hearth
and she received the injuries

that caused her to pass over.

Mr Rumpole, is that the version
of this lady's death

you wish to leave with the jury?

Certainly, my lord.

Does your lordship wish
to pre-judge the issue?

Are we to have
a little premature adjudication?

Mr Rumpole, I've warned you once.
I shall not warn you again.

- I'm looking at the clock.
- So I see.

We'll break off there. Back
at ten past two, members of the jury.

I understand you're on bail.
Is Mr Tong on bail?

- He is, my lord.
- You're giving your evidence.

It's vital that you speak to no one
about this case during the adjournment

and that nobody speaks to you,
particularly your legal advisers.

Is that understood, Mr Rumpole?

Naturally. I do know the rules, my lord.

I hope you do, Mr Rumpole.
I sincerely hope you do.

(Clerk) Court be upstanding!

(Rumpole) Listen!
Is this damn thing going to last for ever?

Get on with it! You're driving me mad!

Talk, that's all you do,
you boring old fart!

I've got enough trouble with the judge
without you causing me all this agony.

Get it out, short and snappy. Put us out
of our misery. Get it out, then shut up!

- Have a good lunch, Rumpole?
- No, I have not had a good lunch.

I have not had any lunch at all!

Hmm... I suppose
you were too busy talking!

Mr Tong, did you ever intend
to do your wife the slightest harm?

- No.
- Did you strike her?

- No.
- Did you assault her in any way?

- No.
- No. Thank you.

Just wait there in case Mr Erskine-Brown
can think of something to ask you.

You've become monosyllabic
since lunch, Mr Tong.

Perhaps it's something he ate!

It's nothing you ate,
as your learned counsel suggests.

It's something Mr Rumpole said to you.

When did Mr Rumpole speak to him?

During the luncheon adjournment,
my lord.

- Erskine-Brown!
- Be quiet for a moment, Mr Rumpole.

Did I not give a solemn warning
that no one was to speak to Mr Tong

and he was to speak to no one?

You did, my lord.
That was why I was so surprised

when I heard Mr Rumpole quite clearly.

Yet you heard Mr Rumpole speaking
to the defendant Tong?

- I'm afraid so, my lord.
- Go on, Claude.

Really? And what did he say?

He told Mr Tong he did nothing but talk
and he was to get on with it.

And he was to get it out
and make it snappy.

Oh, yes, and he told Mr Tong
he was a boring old fart.

- A boring old what, Mr Erskine-Brown?
- Fart, my lord.

He's not the only one round here either.

Well, Mr Rumpole, what have you got to
say to Mr Erskine-Brown's accusation?

- Nothing, my lord.
- Nothing?

Absolutely nothing.

You don't deny that what
Mr Erskine-Brown has said is true?

I neither accept it nor deny it.

It is an outrageous suggestion
from an incompetent advocate!

Apart from that, I don't feel called upon
to make any comment.

I take it that I am not on trial?

Not at the moment.
I can't answer for the Bar Council.

Then I suggest we concentrate
on the trial of Mr Tong, and forget mine!

Why did you have to do that, Claude?

My cross-examination of Mr Tong?
I got the judge on my side immediately.

Yes, and put the jury on Rumpole's side.
Mr Tong was acquitted.

Win a few, lose a few. That's par
for the course if you're a busy silk.

- What's it to be? A dry white?
- Why did you do that to Rumpole?

He shouldn't have talked to his client
while he was still in the box.

Two dry whites. Something
from the Loire, a Pouilly-Fum�?

Are you sure that he did?

I heard him with my own ears.
You don't think I'd lie to you?

Didn't you lie to your wife
about taking me to the opera?

That was love, Liz.
Everyone lies when they're in love.

Don't tell me you're in love
with me again. I won't believe it!

Did you really mean
to get Rumpole disbarred?

Disbarred? Rumpole? That's impossible.

They've been longing to do it for years.
You've given them the excuse they need!

- You're beautiful when you're angry!
- Two house whites.

Oh... Oh, well, I suppose so.

You can't imagine what married life
was like when my wife was Lord Mayor.

- I bet you were proud of her.
- Proud of her?

What happened to my self-respect?
I was referred to as the Lady Mayoress!

- Poor old Henry.
- Poor old Henry, yes!

I was sat in the gallery
at council meetings,

the gallery in our town hall
known as the hen pen.

- I was sat there with the wives.
- Things a bit better now?

Now that Eileen's reverted to alderman?
Very minimally, Dot.

Oh, dear.
She's on this slimming regime now.

What shall I go back to?
Lettuce salad and cottage cheese?

You know that white stuff?
Tastes of soap?

Oh, nothing to drink, of course.
No. No alcohol.

Do you reckon you could go
another Snowball, Dot?

I'm all right, thanks.

I know you are, Dot.
You most certainly are all right.

- May I ask you a personal question?
- No harm in asking.

Do you like me, Dot?
I mean, do you like me for myself?

I don't like you for anyone else.

You're a very nice sort of person.
Speak as you find.

- And I'm a big part of your life?
- Of course you are.

Thank you, Dot. Thank you very much.
That's all I needed to hear.

That deserves another Snowball.
Quite decidedly!

I mean, you're my boss, aren't you?
That's a big part of my life.

You've got to fight it.

- Fight what?
- Your case.

- The Establishment against Rumpole.
- Ha!

My dear Miss Liz, there is no case.

- It's a question of free speech.
- Is it?

Your freedom to speak to your client
at lunch. You're a civil rights issue.

I don't think I want to be that.

You're drinking brandy!

- Dutch courage!
- Rumpole, that's not like you.

You've never been afraid of judges.

Judges? My dear Miss Liz,
as I've always taught you,

fearlessness is the first essential
for an advocate.

No, no, no. I can cope with the judges.

It's those other fellas
that give me the jim-jams.

What other fellas, Rumpole?

Dentists.

(Murmur of conversation)

Indeed we do, quite a lot.

You may have heard Porter ringing
the hand bell before dinner.

That's been going on
since the Middle Ages.

Its purpose is to summon in
such of our students

as may be fishing in the Fleet River.

Oh, I like that. I like that.

We of the Outer Temple regard it
as a rather charming eccentricity.

I've had enough of eccentricity lately
and I don't find it a bit charming!

I've heard you've been having
a bit of trouble with Rumpole.

- He's a genuine eccentric.
- Genuine?

Look, where I come from,
we know what genuine is.

There's nothing more genuine
than a Yorkshire pudding

that's all fluffy
and crisp on the outside.

On Ilkley Moor baht 'at
On Ilkley Moor baht 'at, on Ilkley...

Master Junior!
We don't sing on guest nights in this inn.

Only on the night of grand revelry.

- I'm very sorry, Master Treasurer.
- Please remember that.

- Oliver, you were saying?
- It's all so theatrical with Rumpole.

Those old clothes make him look poor
and down at heel.

They're put on to get a sympathy vote
from the jury.

And that terrible bit of old waistcoat
with cigar ash and gravy stains.

It's no more than a facade
of a waistcoat, a sort of dickey.

The old Lord Chief never listened

to anyone he suspected
of wearing a backless waistcoat.

He said to Freddie Ringwood, "It gives
me little pleasure to listen to an argument

"from a man wearing light trousers."

This Rumpole you've been talking about,
I gather he's a bit of a character?

You could say he's got form!

That means previous convictions,
Bishop.

We get them in our business.
Priests who try to be characters.

They've come to it late in life,
preach eccentric sermons,

mention Saddam Hussein
in their prayers.

- Madeira, Bishop?
- Thank you.

Give me a plain, undistinguished
parish priest, not too interesting,

who can marry them, bury them, and
still do a decent Armistice Day's service.

Or a chap who can put his case,
keep a civil tongue in his head

and not complain
when you pot his client.

What did Freddie Ringwood do
in the end? Was it that business

of his girl pupil trying to slit
her wrists in the women's robing room?

His trouble was he spoke to his client
while the fellow was giving evidence.

Sounds familiar.

With Rumpole, there's also the abusive
language he used to me on the bench.

Not that I mind for myself.
I can use my common sense about that.

But when you're sitting representing
Her Majesty the Queen...

They say Rumpole's case
has been sent to a disciplinary tribunal.

May the Lord have mercy on his soul.

Amen.

Rumpole on trial.

You must admit...
it's rather an amusing idea.

(Laughter)

Hilda...

I have something to tell you.

And I have something to tell YOU.

- I've just about finished with this game.
- What game is that, Rumpole?

Standing up in court,
bowing to the judge,

"if your lordship pleases,
in my humble submission,

"with the greatest respect, my lord..."

Just some boring old... fool
no one has any respect for at all.

You shouldn't have to stand up
or bow to anyone any more,

but spend the rest of your days sitting.

If that's all they can say to me after
a lifetime of trying to see justice done,

trying to make them open their eyes
and see past their prejudices...

From this time forth,
I never will speak word.

I'm sure that's best, Rumpole. Except,
of course, for your summings up.

My what?

Your summings up to the jury.
And you can do that sitting down.

Hilda, what are you talking about?

Your news, Rumpole. I know what it is.

I talked to Marigold Featherstone
in Harrods.

You're going to be a judge.

Ha ha ha! No, my dear old thing,
I am not going to be a judge.

I'm not even going to be a barrister.

I am up before a disciplinary tribunal.
They are going to kick me out.

What is it, Rumpole? Have you got
yourself into some sort of trouble?

- You could say that.
- Is it another woman?

Not really. Another man.

A North Country comedian

who gave me more of his down-to-earth
common sense than I could stand!

- Sir Oliver Oliphant.
- None other.

When is this... tribunal?

Oh, shortly.

And I shall treat it with the contempt
it deserves.

And after that...

I shall rest.

"For the sword outwears its sheath

"And the soul wears out the breast

"And the heart must pause to breathe...

"And love itself have rest."

I shall stand by you, Rumpole,
no matter what the cost.

I shall stand by you
through thick and thin.

Oh, Hilda!

I was afraid of that.

Our champion brief up for trial?
I never thought I'd see the day.

- He'll walk, won't he?
- Oh, well...

Mr Bernard, we'll get him through.
We've always worked as a team.

What's the charge they got him on?

Speaking to a client
while giving evidence.

Can't your client say he never?
The vehicle's over here.

Mr Tong has vanished with a neighbour.

We can't trace him, even if Mr Rumpole
denies the conversation.

- Which he does?
- All the fight's gone out of him.

- I've never seen him like this.
- We'll have to help him out.

There you are, Mr Bernard. Just the
vehicle for a gentleman of your stature.

Property of a late undertaker

who passed over before
he got the full joy out of it.

You tell Mr Rumpole we're behind him.
That ought to cheer the old chap up a bit.

(Knock at door)

- Come in.
- Sam!

Ah, Mrs Rumpole... er, Hilda.

- Are you looking for your husband?
- No, he's not in chambers.

- Drowning his sorrows perhaps.
- Yes, that's all too likely.

No, it's you I called to see. You do know
that Rumpole is in a little difficulty?

Terrible, terrible trouble.

I have prayed about it.
I have prayed long and earnestly.

I hope you'll do more than pray.

Do, Mrs... Hilda? What more can I do?

I am standing by my husband!

I hope you're not standing against him
like Claude Erskine-Brown.

- I shall say something to Claude.
- No, I'm not against him.

- Good. I went to the Bar Council.
- You did?

I called on the Secretary
to discuss Rumpole's case

and I made it clear
I was standing by him.

He was a perfectly charming gentleman

and he told me that Rumpole needs
a QC to defend him.

If he defends himself,
Mr Hockridge said, it's curtains.

Yes, Edward gave you
some very sound advice.

I told him there was no problem
finding a QC of standing.

I'd ask his Head of Chambers.

- Do you mean me?
- Who else is head of these chambers?

No, no, no. I mean, you want me
to take on... Rumpole as a client?

I want you to stand by him as any decent
Head of Chambers would for a tenant.

Oh, well, Mrs... Hilda, l-l-I don't know.

He has got to apologise. I'm sure
this nice Mr... whoever you saw...

I'm sure he made this clear. How
can I persuade Rumpole to apologise?

I'll do the persuading. You think of how
to put it nice and politely to the judge.

Rumpole as a client...
God give me strength!

Don't worry.
If God doesn't, I certainly will.

Mr Rumpole?

Mr Rumpole?

Fred! Fred Timson!

What can I do for you?
You're not in any trouble?

No, no, no. But I heard you was.

I want you to talk freely. I want you
to regard me as your legal adviser.

Oh.

So, you've undertaken the thankless task
of defending Rumpole?

It's in the great tradition of the Bar.

One represents the most disagreeable
client in the most hopeless case.

Hopeless, I'm glad you say that. It shows
you've got a bit of common sense.

- Yes, but if Rumpole were to apologise.
- He never will.

Yes, but if I or someone,
whomsoever it might be, could...

You are known, I believe, in some
quarters as..."the quality of mercy".

Now, if there were to be
the most humble, contrite apology...

Rumpole would rather be disbarred
than apologise.

Yes, but if he would?

If he would,

it would give him more genuine grief
and pain than anything else in the world.

I'd enjoy seeing that. I really would.

- It'll be up to the tribunal, of course.
- Yes.

It so happens
that Carrie and Chas Timson,

being spectators in Chas's brother-in-law
Lenny's trial on the post office job,

was in the Old Bailey that day
and they kept Tongue...

Tong.

They kept Mr Tong in view
throughout the lunch hour.

Owing to a family celebration the night
before, they didn't fancy their dinner.

They can say that you did not speak
one word to your client,

so the good news is you got
two cast-iron alibi witnesses.

I've informed Mr Bernard accordingly
and you are bound to walk.

I see. What was the name of the judge
hearing the robbery that they attended?

Yeah, they told me.
That was old Penal Parsloe.

Mr Justice Parsloe is now Lord Justice
Parsloe in the Court of Appeal.

He hasn't been near the Old Bailey
for two years.

Nice try, Fred,
but it wouldn't have worked,

even if I decided to deny the charges.

- Who was the judge then?
- Never mind, Fred.

It's the thought that counts.

Don't do it, Rumpole.

- Don't do what?
- Look for the easy way out.

Don't be absurd, Ballard.

Remember, however serious the crime,
all sinners may be forgiven.

And there are those who are standing
by you - your devoted wife and me.

You? You're standing by me?

I have taken up, Rumpole,
the burden of your defence.

Put it down again. I have nothing to say
to those ridiculous charges!

I can save you if you truly repent.

Repentance, Rumpole, it's the only way.

Apologise.

- Apologise? To OIlie Oliphant? Never!
- I do not ask it for myself.

I ask it for that fine woman
who has devoted her life to you.

A somewhat unworthy cause,
but she is devoted.

Really!

Ru... Rumpole? I ask it for Hilda!

The one thing you have to do...

How can I bear it, Rumpole?

Me, who remembers Daddy at the Bar,
how respected he was.

How can I bear to be the wife
of a disbarred barrister?

- What do you want me to do, Hilda?
- Apologise to Sir Oliver Oliphant.

All right, Hilda. You win.

I told Eileen last night.

She wasn't out at the Drainage Enquiry
and I told my wife what we'd decided.

What did we decide?

About when you told me
I was a big part of your life.

Did I say that?

You know you did.

We can't hide it, can we, Dot?

We're gonna make a future together.

- You told your wife that?
- She understood.

I've got to have this one chance
of happiness while I'm young enough.

Did you say "young enough", Henry?

We're beginning a new life together.

I've got to take the professional conduct
rules to Mr Ballard.

Henry, you're not moving out
of your home?

Of course I am. Just as soon as we've
had time to look around for somewhere.

Got to rush now, darling.

Oh, blimey!

Judge, you've dealt with the instructions
you gave Mr Rumpole

not to speak to his client
during the adjournment.

Yes, I made it perfectly clear... to anyone
with an ounce of common sense.

Indeed. Judge, did Mr Rumpole say
something about prejudice?

Don't lead.

He accused me of
being prejudiced, yes.

And spoke of premature adjudication.

I was not at all sure what he meant.

- At first.
- Thank you, Judge.

Judge...

It's extremely courteous of you
to attend here in person...

Absolutely charming to lodge
a complaint against me!

Absolutely charming,
as Mr Rumpole says.

He also wishes you to know that
he was suffering from severe toothache

on the morning in question.

Is toothache an excuse for speaking
to a client during the adjournment?

I should've thought Mr Rumpole
would've wanted to REST his mouth.

My lord, I'm dealing with the question
of rudeness to the learned judge.

(Whispers) The "boring old fart" charge.

Very well.

My lord, my client wishes to,
in his own words,

apologise to the learned judge.

My lord, if it pleases your lordship,

I realise that there are things which
should never be said or done in court.

Things which are utterly inexcusable

and which no doubt amount to contempt.

Mr Rumpole, the tribunal is,
and I'm sure I speak for us all,

most surprised and gratified
by this unusually apologetic attitude.

I take it you are now about to withdraw
the inexcusable phrases?

Inexcusable? Yes, my lord.

I was about to put to Mr Justice Oliphant
the inexcusable manner

in which he sighs
and rolls his eyes to heaven

when summing up the case
for the defence.

"Believe that if you like,
but use your common sense."

What about describing
my client's conduct as manslaughter

when that was what the jury had
to decide?

If he will say sorry for that, then I am
perfectly prepared to apologise

for pointing out his undoubted prejudice.

- Am I expected to sit here?
- No, no, my lord.

Rumpole, what were you thinking about?
You were supposed to apologise!

I'm prepared to swap apologies.

Yes, I heard that, Mr Ballard.

As your client knows perfectly well,
my hearing is exceptionally keen.

I wonder what Mr Rumpole's excuse is
for his extraordinary behaviour today?

He's not suffering from toothache now?

My lord...

I will take instructions.

Rumpole,
hadn't you better have toothache?

No, I had it out.

My lord, the answer is no.

He had it out... during the trial.

"Had it out...

"...during the trial."

We shall proceed with this
unhappy case tomorrow morning.

"Had it out."

My lord, may I make an application?

What is it, Mr Rumpole?

I'm getting rather tired
of Mr Ballard's attempts

to get me to apologise unilaterally.

Would you kindly ask him not to speak
to his client over the adjournment?

- Liz, where are you taking me?
- To the scene of the crime, Claude.

Show me exactly
where you were standing.

Well, it was here. I was here.

- And where was Mr Tong?
- Just over there on that bench.

Ah. So...

- You could see him then.
- Of course I could.

Stay there. Where was Rumpole?

Well, just behind the arch, I suppose.

- You suppose?
- I know I heard his voice.

You heard his voice
coming from behind this arch?

Yes, Rumpole's voice
is pretty unmistakeable.

- When did you first see him?
- When he walked out of the archway.

After the conversation you thought
he had with Mr Tong was over?

Yes. What do you mean,
the conversation I THOUGHT he had?

"You boring old fart. Just get on with it.

"I've got enough trouble without you
causing me all this agony. Get it out!"

- Something like that, yes.
- "Get it out"?

You didn't bother to think get WHAT out,
did you?

Rumpole's dentist? Well,
it's Lionel Leering of Harley Street.

Miss Probert, are you having trouble
with your teeth?

No, I don't think
that Rumpole does like him very much.

Does he call him a boring old what?

Yes, I'm afraid he does occasionally.

If the tribunal pleases,
our next witness will be called

by my learned junior,
Miss Elizabeth Probert.

I shall call Mr Lionel Leering.

Please sit down in that chair.

Take the Bible in your right hand.

Miss Probert...

No, I'm not going to fight it.
I instruct you, Miss Probert, don't do it.

Rumpole, this is my big moment in court.
It's what you trained me for.

I was your pupil all that time.
Don't spoil it for me.

Oh, I suppose, if you have to!

Are you Mr Lionel Leering and do you
have a practice in Harley Street, London?

That is so.

On the morning of the 18th,
did you treat Mr Rumpole?

I did. He came early because he was in
the middle of a case at the Old Bailey.

Defending in a manslaughter. I gave him
a temporary stopping to keep him going.

- Did it?
- Apparently not.

He rang me around lunchtime and
told me the tooth was causing him pain.

He was extremely angry.

Can you remember what he said?

He said, "I have enough trouble with the
judge without you causing all this agony.

"Get it out and put us out of our misery."

- Do you know what he meant?
- He wanted his tooth extracted.

- Mr Varian...
- My lord.

If this evidence is correct

and we remember the admissions made
by Mr Claude Erstone-Brown...

- Erskine-Brown, my lord.
- Thank you.

...about the fact
that he never saw Mr Rumpole,

this allegation about speaking to his
client falls to the ground, does it not?

I must concede that, my lord.

Then all that remains is the offensive
remarks to Mr Justice Oliphant.

- Yes, my lord.
- Yes. I'm much obliged.

Mr Ballard...

My lord?

This case now turns
on whether your client is prepared

to make a proper, unilateral apology
to my brother Oliphant.

- Indeed, my lord.
- We'll consider that matter after lunch.

His brother Oliphant indeed!
Why does it have to be only me?

I don't think you should apologise.

Not apologise?
Is that what you've decided?

Nothing will make you stop work
unless you ARE disbarred!

Think how wonderful that would be
for our marriage!

- What do you mean, Hilda?
- I shall have you at home all day.

And there are so many little jobs
for you to do.

You could repaper the kitchen,
polish the parquet in the hall.

You could help me shop.
We could have my friends to tea.

Dodo Macintosh always complains
she sees nothing of you.

Oh... Really?

- Thank you, Mrs Rumpole.
- Was that all right?

Absolutely brilliant!

My lord, Mr Rumpole wishes
to make a statement.

Yes, Mr Rumpole?

If your lordship pleases, I realise
that some people are more sensitive,

more easily offended than others.

Over my long years at the Old Bailey,
before your lordship and brother judges,

I have had to grow a skin
like a rhinoceros.

Mr Justice Oliphant
I acknowledge is a more sensitive plant.

And if I have said anything
that may have hurt him,

I do most humbly
and most sincerely apologise.

Will that do?

Ah, Judge! This is a great day
for Equity Court. We're celebrating.

Mrs Claude Erskine-Brown elevated
to the Bench and her husband in silk.

Claude Erskine-Brown?

They must be giving away silk gowns
with pounds of tea nowadays.

You're Dot, aren't you?

Eileen, Henry's wife.
He's been telling me about you.

I don't know why he did that.
I'm really sorry.

Oh, don't be.
No, it's a great relief to me.

I was on a horrible slimming diet because
I thought that's how Henry liked me.

Now he says you want to make your life
together. Pass me a sandwich.

We're not going to make a life together.
I don't know where he got the idea.

Henry's very sweet and serious.

But in a boyfriend,
I prefer something a bit more muscular.

- You won't take him on?
- I couldn't entertain the idea!

- With all due respect to Henry.
- He'll have to stay where he is.

I won't go back on that horrible
cottage cheese for anyone!

We're grateful to you, Sam,
for the way you handled this case.

Got the old boy to apologise
quite nicely.

Thank you. One does have influence
as Head of Chambers.

And we're grateful to you
for allowing him to go on practising.

Some of us felt that life might be
a little dull... without him.

- She doesn't want you, Henry.
- Ssh! How do you know that?

She goes for something far more
muscular. I know what she means.

Ah, Judge! And dear Lady Featherstone!

Well, Sam, so you saved Rumpole
to let him loose on the Bailey again!

It was a worrying case.
I was afraid we'd lose.

Even more worrying now you've won!

Well, well, there's my sister judge,
Mrs Erskine-Brown.

Phyllida, congratulations.

Horace, why didn't you tell me
you were speaking to your dentist?

Claude, your suggestion was
beneath contempt. I didn't want to argue.

Why ever not? What's come over you?

"For the sword outwears its sheath,
And the soul wears out the breast

"And the heart must pause to breathe..."

But not quite yet perhaps. Not quite yet.

You're looking more beautiful than ever,
Judge.

Why don't you drop into my room
and share a dish of tea?

- I could give you a few tips.
- On judging?

No, thanks. I mean to keep my foot
out of my mouth for as long as possible.

Oh!

Well, you could just drop in for some tea
and we could talk about... other things.

What other things?

Well...

So Rumpole won't be sitting as a judge.

In fact, I heard he nearly ended up
sitting at home!

Rumpole left the court
without a stain on his character.

Ah, Judge, you're here!

Rumpole invited me,
so of course I'm here.

I didn't hear him apologise.
Made him squirm, did it?

- It was agony for him.
- Good, good.

You know my wife, Marguerite?

You were Matron at the Old Bailey.

I see you're letting that naughty tummy
run away with us!

Have you got any bottled beer?

I didn't want her to come, but she
insisted. Must've been embarrassing.

We got on like a house on fire.
You're a lucky bloke.

Having you?

No. Having a woman prepared
to eat cottage cheese for you!

Splendid win, Miss Liz.

You showed yourself absolutely ruthless
in the pursuit of victory.

Liz is ruthless
in pursuit of anything.

- Have you forgiven me?
- I think so.

Who gave Hilda the line
about me being home all day?

- What's that, Rumpole?
- Hilda, I was just saying to Liz...

how splendid it would be
to be home all day.

It wasn't that that led me to apologise.

That's the trouble with barristers.
You never believe a word they say!

Oh, Fred!
Fred Timson, so glad you could come!

Quite a do, eh?
Judges and sparkling wine!

Thank you, everyone.
My lords, ladies and gentlemen,

we are here to honour
Mrs Justice Erskine-Brown and Claude,

one of Her Majesty's Counsel
and learned in the law.

- And Fred.
- What's that?

My lords, ladies and gentlemen, we are
here also to honour Mr Fred Timson,

leader of the Timson clan, that vast
family of South London villains, thieves

and receivers of stolen property.

- But no violence in your record?
- That's right.

Mr Timson conducts his life
according to strict monetarist principles.

- So I do.
- He does not believe in the closed shop.

He believes shops should be open
at all hours, preferably with a jemmy.

Too right, Mr Rumpole, yeah!

But without Fred Timson and his like,
how many of us would be out of work?

How many brother judges,
how many of Her Majesty's Counsel?

How many coppers?

How many humble Old Bailey hacks?

Indeed, we may all be bundled out on
to the Embankment in cardboard boxes!

So, my lords, ladies and gentlemen,
charge your glasses.

I give you a toast to Fred Timson and...

...the criminals of England!

- Rumpole!
- Really, Rumpole!

That's unprofessional conduct.

Well done, Rumpole. Up the workers!

Cheer up. Mr Rumpole just made a joke!

Will he never learn?

I'm afraid... never!

I'm rather surprised that OIlie turned up.
Now he's had his apology, he's satisfied.

Best watched using Open Subtitles MKV Player

Repair and Synchronization by
Easy Subtitles Synchronizer 1.0.0.0