All language subtitles for porterhouse blue

Bene edamus

Bene bibamus

Epulas semper concelebramus

Quod imperat regina

Nil impediat doctrina

Sed choro sonoro

Dives in omnia

Sed choro sonoro

Dives in omnia

Collegium, Collegium acclamus!

Porterhouse! Porterhouse!

To live and die in Porterhouse

Dives in omnia

( Choirboys singing)

( Men singing)

Dives in omnia

- Afternoon, Mr Skullion.
- Afternoon, Walter.

Try closing it, Dr Messmer.
You'll find getting out easier that way.

Dons, Walter.

Finest minds of their generation.

- Hey-ho, Skullion.
- Good afternoon, Mr Gimingham.

- Key to the boathouse, please.
- Yes, sir.

Oh, l do believe you've got some fines,
Mr Gimingham.

Yes, let me just check.

Yes, now let's see. Where are we?
Ah, yes. A broken pump...

You're a feast of information, Skullion.

Cheeky young gentleman.

(Sighs) How's the Master?

Poorly, Mr Skullion.

They sent for the doctor
and he sent for a nurse.

And Praelector's called an extraordinary
meeting of College Council.

- They're over there now.
- Very nasty, Walter, very nasty.

Yes, Mr Zipser?

l wonder if a journal l subscribe to's
turned up here?

- lt has not, Mr Zipser.
- lt's the Medieval Peasants Review.

Perhaps someone's taken it.

Now who in Porterhouse
would want to take a thing like that?

lt's got a very important article

on deconstruction
and the three-field system.

Mr Zipser, l do have a dying Master
on my hands.

l see.

l'll check again tomorrow.

Studying in his rooms in Newmarket week.

Huh! A gentleman'd be at the races.

What are they doing there, Mr Skullion?

- Deciding, Walter.
- Deciding what?

Not deciding what, deciding who.

- All have voted?
- Voted, Chaplain?

Yes. Twice.

(Sighs) Then once more,
we reach stalemate.

Unless one of you cares to change

or one of our two admirable candidates
will withdraw.

Dean? Hmm?

- Senior Tutor?
- Certainly not.

We need a Master who'll keep us ahead
on the river. The Dean should reconsider.

We need a Master who in this mad and
changing world will maintain tradition.

- A weakling will no longer do.
- Gentlemen, gentlemen.

l recall you to precedent
and remind you of standing orders.

Surely, in any case,
the Master nominates his own successor.

Yes, Professor Siblington,
the Master's word is final.

We simply advise by making
our own recommendation.

Or, as is now clear, by failing to make it.

So, what happens next, Praelector?

My dear Bursar, exemplem habemus.

Prorsus illustre decernit

ipse magister duobus coram collegis.

On that, as on all else,
precedent is perfectly clear.

The Master must now nominate his
successor in the presence of two of us.

- He's not fit.
- Fit or not, that is the Porterhouse way.

Now, may l ask one other Fellow
to accompany me?

Oh, well.

They're pulling back the curtains,
Mr Skullion.

Then l'd better take the Master his tray.

He likes to have his tray from me.

(Telephone bell)

Porter's Lodge.

Oh, yes. At once.

Master's worse.
Nurse wants an ambulance.

Just taking the Master his tray.

What about the ambulance, Mr Skullion?

Never heard about it,
no more than you did.

You know what we say in Porterhouse.

Master dies in his own bed or not at all.

At least l have published a book,
which is one more than you.

lf a little learning is a dangerous thing,
think what harm a lot of it can do.

Gentlemen, do try
to observe the decencies.

He's very ill.

My apologies, Master.
The college precedent.

Master, this is very important.
Can you hear me?

- Too well.
- Master, please attend.

You must name your successor
as Master of Porterhouse.

- (Door opening)
- Ah, Skullion!

Yes, sir, l've brought your tray, sir.

Good man.

There have been Skullions in the college
ever since the Founder.

''A far...

''A farthing for the Skullion.''
You'll find that in the very first accounts.

Yes, sir.

- Yes, sir. Pheasant, sir.
- (Chuckles)

Château La Tour '7 1 .

Not now, Skullion.

Master, the future of College is at stake.

We presume it's one of us.

A nod would count.

ls it l?

(Chuckles quietly)

l, Master?

No!

Master, you did once indicate that l might...

(Mouths)

Time for a cleric, surely?

None of you.

- My pheasant!
- Then who, Master?

Hmm?

Ah!

Lord...

Lord who?

Muxloe.

Lord Muxloe?

- He's done it.
- Oh, thank you, yes, l will.

- At least he's done it.
- No, he has not, sir.

Don't interfere, Skullion.
This is not your concern.

No, sir.

But Lord Muxloe was Master here
before the First World War.

He died in 1908, heirless.

- Died?
- Yes, sir. Heirless.

lt was a Porterhouse Blue.

Porterhouse Blue!

Porterhouse, Porterhouse

To live and die in Porterhouse

- What, gone, Mr Skullion?
- Porterhouse Blue, Cheffy.

That's nice, he'd've liked it like that.

- What's a Porterhouse Blue?
- Stroke brought on by overindulgence.

lt's always been a tradition in the college.

- End of an era, that is.
- Well, won't affect us, will it?

Well, Master didn't name
a successor, Cheffy.

Now, that's never happened in Porterhouse
in 532 years.

You've a wonderful memory, Mr Skullion.

- So, how do they decide now?
- None of our business, is it, Mr Skullion?

Could be, Arthur, it could be.
See, it's got to be a gentleman.

Oh, Arthur, put the port out
in the Combination Room and, er...

listen hard.

Right. To the Master.

- The Master.
- Master.

(Sucking)

(All) Ah!

The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away.

Especially in my own case, l notice.

l had every right
to expect to be the new Master.

We must face the future, Dean, however
unfortunate that may seem to you.

This is quite without precedent, a Master
dying without naming his successor.

He did of course name Lord Muxloe.

But l fear even in a college as traditional
as Porterhouse,

an exhumed corpse for Master
would be going too far.

No.

The Master, in my view to punish us,
did not name a viable successor,

so statutes decree the decision passes
right out of our hands.

- Out of College?
- Oh, indeed.

lt passes to the College Visitor,
who, as you know, is the Queen,

who will unquestionably turn
to the Prime Minister.

That could be anyone - some reshuffled
parliamentarian raincoat manufacturer...

- An ex-ambassador, a scientist.
- Anyone!

l fear for College.

Er, Arthur?

Arthur, remove the Chaplain's leg
from the fire.

He's been dreaming
of the girls in Woolworth's again.

Well done, Arthur. Just in time.

Gentlemen, gentlemen.

To the late Master, whose sense
of mischief did not fail him to the last.

Magistri de mortui ad piam memoriam.

(All) The late Master!

(Knocking)

- Clot! Wanker!
- Shut up, Foxton.

(Bell tolling)

( Organ strikes up)

Requiem aeternum

Dona eis, Domine

Et lux perpetua

Luceat eis

Requiem aerternum

l don't believe it.

l just don't believe it!

- What is it, Mr Skullion?
- That was the Prime Minister's office.

Why were they calling you, Mr Skullion?

They weren't calling me.

They were calling the Praelector.
They've chosen the new Master.

Godber Evans.

- lsn't he in the government?
- He was, Walter, he was.

Minister of Social Security.

Now he's too wet,
they've sent him back to Porterhouse.

- He's been here before?
- A scholar, he was.

He never liked the college.

l don't believe it.

Godber Evans.

Hmph.

Aah.

(Woman) La-la-lah la la-lah

Wakey-wakey!

- Rise and shine!
- Who's that?

Bedder, Mr Zipser. Just checking you're in.

Dean's report and a fine
if you've been a naughty boy.

(Groans) l'm always in, Mrs Biggs.

Not that l'm a tartar sauce for discipline.

l usually have an...
an arrangement with my gents.

Not natural, is it? All you young men,
stuffed together like this.

We've all got sexual parts

and they'll turn against us
if we're not careful.

Oh, l don't think about that.
l give all my energies to my thesis.

Oh, what're you writing?

The role of pumpernickel
in medieval Westphalia.

Mm. l always say you're my brainy boy.

Right!

Ready for the big event?

Guess who's coming today?

(Heartbeats)

The new Master, that's who,
the one they kicked out of the government.

Oh, erm...that doesn't concern me.

l've got nothing to do with the formal life
of the college.

Such a ceremony.

Ever so exciting
when he makes his entrance.

( Man singing)

Porterhouse! Porterhouse!

To live and die in Porterhouse

Dives in omnia

Dives in omnia

Heu! Qui estis intus!

Fores aperire iubeo.

Qui nos iubet?

Ecce magister, mister.

Ergo. Fer patefaciat

et qua sit auctoriatate

renuntiatus.

Godber, this is quite ridiculous.

Quisnam nos appellat?

lussu regina ex auctoritate concilii
primorum ac pontificum

ab eoquem pennies est summa potestus

magister modo declaratus

hic ego aditum postulo.

Mandatum tecum fers?

Hoc signum ius meum declarat.

Totally absurd.

This is our ceremony, my Lady.
We kept Henry Vlll waiting for ten minutes.

No wonder he dissolved the monasteries.

Per Deum, per fidem reginae datam,

nos domus Porteori socii

te salutamus.

Salutamus magistrum

Dominum mirabilem

Celebramus, celebramus

Splendide institutum

Celebramus, celebra

ln gloria collegiae

Bene regale, bene aequale

Bene regale est praesentum

Salutamus magistrum

Dominum mirabilem

Celebramus, celebramus

Splendide institutum

Celebramus, celebra

ln gloria collegiae

Bene regale, bene aequale

Bene regale est praesentum

Salutamus magistrum

( Woman humming
Some Enchanted Evening)

(Humming stops)

(Birdsong)

The drawing room.

Rather distinctive, l always think.

The last Master was a great collector
of period pieces.

All that goes. Our taste is contemporary,
isn't it, Godber?

You should find this a great change
from ministerial life, Master.

A happy return to your old college.

l trust you'll find it a great relaxation.

Godber has not come here for a sinecure.

l have always been interested
in educational reform.

Reform without revolution, alteration
without change - that is my motto.

(Praelector) Reform?

Godber's always been in active in causes,
haven't you, Godber?

The League Against Cruel Sports,
the Committee for Racial Equality

and, of course, Lesbians for Peace.

Though, in that, l am a little less active!

- How very fascinating.
- l do my best for my fellow man.

- Fellow person, Godber.
- Yes, fellow person.

There's a very attractive study
through here, Lady Mary.

l'm sure you'll find it has a lovely view.

Godber, what is going on?

(Praelector) Ah, the preparations
for our annual Feast this evening.

Godber, look! That's a whole ox.

(Praelector) Yes, quite
a sumptuous occasion, as you see.

(Lady Mary) And those are dead swans!
lt's disgraceful.

l'm going down to the kitchens right away.

- Women aren't allowed...
- Then it's time women were allowed.

There's not stopping Lady Mary
once she gets the bit between her teeth.

Now, there are eight courses,
so we need all the silver from the buttery.

And of course, the five vintage wines.

Now, have you got that, Abel?

You've got five different wines,
so you'll want five different glasses.

How many do you want, Abel?

Yes, good man, good man. Off you go.

Frank, l want you to go down
to the Feathers...

- Mr Skullion! Mr Skullion!
- Yes, yes!

- Mr Skullion!
- Walter, what is it?

- The Master and his Lady are coming.
- ln my kitchen!

All right, Cheffy, l'll deal with this.
Now, you leave this to me.

Begging your pardon,
no one's allowed in the kitchen.

- You're speaking to your new Master.
- But at the risk of being impertinent,

these are Cheffy's rules,
aren't they, Cheffy?

No one is allowed in the kitchen
whilst the Feast is being prepared.

Previous Masters respected this principle.

Then Godber won't.

Now. Dead swans.

That happens to be not only unspeakable
but illegal.

No, begging your pardon, my Lady.

We do have Her Majesty's permission.

Not the present Elizabeth but the First.

The only ladies that are allowed
in the kitchen are the cooks.

- You heard that, Godber.
- Mr Skullion,

l fear you are going to have to make
a few changes to your little habits,

now l am Master.

And we'll make the abolition
of this extravagance one of them.

What will this do
for the starving of the Third World?

Not a lot. Roast swan stuffed with widgeon
is a very acquired taste, My Lady.

Well, l shall certainly not eat any of it
at the Feast tonight.

Ah, well, happily the problem will not arise.

- What do you mean?
- Women are not allowed at the Feast.

This is quite outrageous.
What kind of barbaric community is this?

l'm sure you remember
the Porterhouse customs, Master.

l recall you were an undergraduate here.

Yes. And l see nothing has changed.

Well, you should not count on that
for much longer.

Mary.

Oh, dear, Mr Skullion.

You shouldn't have spoken
to the Master's lady like that.

Rude as an undergraduate,
rude as a Master.

Only servants allowed in the kitchen,
he knows that. lt's the Porterhouse way.

(Excited chatter)

Where's your dinner jacket, Zipser?

Erm, l'm not coming, Foxton.
l've got another appointment.

Not joining us for the Feast? But it's
the most glittering occasion of the year.

- Ah, but this is his night for going flashing.
- Aah!

l'm not going flashing, Foxton.

l'm going to attend a lecture on birth
control in the lndian subcontinent.

- Oh, Jesus, Zipser, you can't miss...
- l never attend College occasions.

l don't like Hooray Henrys.

- Excuse me.
- Oh!

- You always were a beastly little man.
- Some of us are at university to work.

- Taxi!
- Have a good flash, Zipser.

(Bell tolling)

- Evening, Skullion. On with the Feast!
- Yes, Mr Gimingham.

- Good evening, Skullion.
- Sir.

l fear the new Master and his lady
are not off to a good start.

They were most unpleasant to Skullion.

lt may be proper to be vilely rude
to one's equals,

l have always considered it the worst
of taste to be uncivil to servants.

- Exactly.
- Well, let's hope for a better evening.

Arthur, listen, keep the Master's glass
as fully charged as possible.

He evidently needs to be taught
the peculiar charm of our society.

- Right. Fully charged as possible.
- Oh.

(Silence descends)

Ah, Master! Welcome!

Let me introduce some Fellows
you've not yet met.

Professor Siblington, history.

Dr Messmer, medieval.

And Dr Other.

We're the only college in the university
that really does have a Dr AN Other.

Arthur, a glass of Manzanilla
for the Master.

- Or may l suggest...?
- No, l want to work later.

Let's stitch this up as quickly as possible.

Tonight, Master? But this is the great event
in the College calendar.

We've been celebrating it
since the 1 4th century.

So it would appear, gentlemen.

Let us go in.

(Buzz of conversation)

(Loud hammering)

All your predecessors on the walls, Master.

We always say they're a great credit
to the kitchens.

l hope you don't expect me to follow them
down the path into gross obesity

and what was it called, a Porterhouse...

Blue, Master. Porterhouse Blue.

We consider it a proud tradition of College.

(Chaplain) Benedict domine

nos et haec tua dona

quae, de bonitate

tua sumpture sumus.

(All) Amen.

What Feast is it?
530th since the Founder?

lt's the 532nd, Cheffy, and l've been to 45.

We were the last college
to abolish celibacy - for the Fellows.

When was that? Five years ago?

A mistake, in my view.

lt cost us dear on the river.

You are a rowing man, Master?

l never did see a connection between
rowing and intellectual achievement.

l say, isn't that Po-faced Evans?

Used to be an undergraduate here.
What's he doing?

lt's the new Master, Chaplain.

- Po-faced Evans?
- Mm.

- No! Really?
- Mm.

l believe you were a student here.
Perhaps l taught you - l forget.

A happy time, l trust?

l was, you didn't, it wasn't.

Grammar-school tyke, they called me.

Butcher's boy.

- Youthful high spirits, Master.
- But l did learn one thing.

(Praelector) Ah!

That after Porterhouse,
there is nothing left in life to fear.

To that l owe my political success.

And to Lady Mary, of course.

Good evening, young man.
ls this birth control?

- Yes, l believe it is.
- Excellent.

You shall escort me in.

- What's your college?
- Porterhouse, l'm afraid.

- Afraid?
- All they think about is rowing

and stuffing their faces.

A very enlightened young man. l'm
Lady Mary Evans, your new Master's lady

and a power in her own right.

- Delighted. Zipser.
- What?

- Mr Lionel Zipser.
- Oh.

( Fanfare)

Omnes, omnes, da mihi

Omnes scholastici

Consecramus nostras horas

Bene iudiciae

Celebramus, celebramus

Voluntate quae foris

Bene edere, bene legere

Bene bibere est praesentum

Nomine Christe!
l don't think l've ever seen finer birds.

Bene nunc convivia

Swan roasted with widgeon.

You'll find the widgeon gives it
a certain gamin flavour.

So good of that first great Elizabeth
to grant permission.

A lusty delicacy, fit only, she said,
for monarchs and the men of Porterhouse.

- Congratulations to the chef.
- Yes, sir, l'll tell him.

Tell him to make me a nut cutlet.
And bring me some eau de source.

Yes, sir. What kind of sauce?

Not wine, man, mineral water!

Tell me, gentlemen,
don't you find this a little indulgent

when present economic circumstances
mean we're all being asked to make cuts?

Oh, we never bother with present
economic circumstances in Porterhouse.

We find they go away after 50 years or so.

ln life, there are two things
of utmost importance.

Sex and violence.

ln my country,
we'd like to put a stop to both.

Now, how to do it?

Coil, loop, pill?

Dutch hat? No.

The answer really lies with you men, here.

Yes - vasectomy.

A little snip snip.

And finally, may l say,
what a pleasure it has been for me

to come here to Cambridge

and tell you a bit about the progress
we are making

with sterilising the people of my country.

So kind of you to come.

Thank you.

Good night.

Mr Zipser, it's been a pleasure to meet you.

You must dine with us one day.

- Healthily, of course.
- Thank you, Lady Mary.

Awfully good lecture.

- She's really on the ball, isn't she?
- Oh, yes, indeed.

Why don't we all go back to my digs
for cocoa and discuss it?

Yes, what a good idea.

(Cheering)

(All) What eight?
There ain't no eight in front.

There ain't no eight in front.

Here's a bone for the fish in front!

Hooray!

- They're doing the old boating chant.
- (Chuckles)

- Lord Wurford would've loved that.
- Would he, Mr Skullion?

Oh, yes. He would've thrown the bones
over his shoulder with the rest of them.

- That was a real Master.
- Yeah.

Gentleman. Not like this one, here.

(All) There ain't no eight in front.

Here's a bone for the fish in front!

Hooray!

Here's a bone for the eight in front.

What eight? There ain't no eight in front.

Here's a bone for the fish in front.

Hooray!

- Bugger all that swan.
- All right. l will.

Lads will be lads, eh, milady?

Not if l have anything to do with it.

(Vomiting)

There ain't no eight in front...

That's it, Cheffy.
Fine Feast, l can't remember a better.

- Good of you to say so, Mr Skullion.
- Better than some deserve.

- We have to give up the old traditions.
- Mm-hm.

- (Glass tinging)
- What eight? There ain't no eight in front.

l don't believe it. lt's not done!

- (Continues tapping glass)
- A speech! At a College Feast? Never!

Not one in 532 years,
to my certain knowledge.

There is now.

Fellows of Porterhouse,
members of the College.

As your newly arrived Master,
l feel this is the perfect occasion

to put before you some new thoughts

on the role of institutions like ours
in the modern world.

Tonight, you have wined and dined,
in my view, to excess.

After such a meal, in every sense rich,

it is right to ask, what are
the responsibilities of privilege,

the duties of wealth,

in the world of today?

''Today?'' you may say,
''What have l to do with today?

''Or, for that matter, tomorrow?

''The past will do.''

Gentlemen, l have to tell you

the past will not do.

This nation, they say,
suffers from the British disease.

What is it?

Piles.

Nostalgia.

Refusal to change.

And where is the infection deepest?

ln institutions like our own.

Nowhere does the responsibility fall
more heavily

than on our ancient universities

and nowhere more
in our ancient universities

than on this college.

Ladies and gentlemen -

or rather, just gentlemen,

for tonight, l am conscious
of an absent guest.

My wife, Lady Mary.

Excluded because of sex.

- She should give it up, then.
- (Laughter)

Tonight, young man, l can promise you
a new era for Porterhouse,

one that can excite us all.

Porterhouse will throw its doors open wide.

We will expand, modernise,
take in scholars...

Scholars?

We will begin an appeal for a new building
to be called Lady Mary Hall,

a building for scholars,
a centre for excellence.

Porterhouse will become what it once was,

not with its eyes fixed
on the day after yesterday,

but on the day before tomorrow!

(Murmuring)

Let us all make this pledge.

Porterhouse will change.

(Commotion)

What a perverted little man.

Grace!

Agimus Tibi gratias,

omnipotens Deo,

pro donis tuis,

per Jesu Christum,

Dominum nostrum.

- Amen!
- Amen!

Scholars! New buildings!

Over my dead body.

- l expect he'll learn, Mr Skullion.
- He won't. He's not a gentleman.

- Him with his knighthood, too.
- Gentlemen don't depend on knighthoods.

Gentlemen is gentlemen.

Porterhouse! Porterhouse!

To live and die in Porterhouse

New building?
Why do we need a new building?

We've enough trouble shoring up
the ones we've got.

He wishes to bring in scholars, Praelector.

Boys from comprehensives
with rings through their noses.

l can't imagine what the Prime Minister
was thinking of.

Presumably how to be rid
of a dreadful liability.

Now we are saddled with it.

Question is, what are we going to do?

Do? Ought we to do something?

We've always managed difficult
and obdurate Masters in the past.

Canon Bowell,
who wanted compulsory Compline.

Oh, let us pray that our policy of amiable
prevarication will defeat him

as it has so many others.

Quite. l've yet to meet the liberal

who can withstand the prolonged
discussion of inessentials.

Might one suggest that we are perhaps
being rather old-fashioned in some ways?

Times are changing and l believe
that in some colleges, certain reforms...

Bursar, what other colleges do
is no concern of Porterhouse.

They will learn the folly of their ways.

l simply meant
that some area of compromise...

There can be no compromise with a man
who is deliberately setting out

to challenge the ancient traditions
of College.

lt will be betraying them if we don't fight
his malicious schemes.

But the Master has complete authority.

- l think he holds...
- Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah!

You are underestimating him.
This man means it.

l agree with the Dean.

Thank you, Senior Tutor.

Here, we must make our stand.
We'll start with you, Bursar.

- Me?
- Go to him first thing tomorrow

and explain we simply cannot
afford his changes.

Make the position totally plain.

- lt would be much better coming from you.
- We are not a rich college.

Though l must say,
l can't ever recall a better Feast.

Good night.

(Machinery quietly whirring)

Godber, l'm very worried
about genital herpes.

- l beg your pardon, Mary?
- The statistics are quite appalling.

So are mine, l fear. l'm just looking
at the College results.

Do you know when a Porterhouse man
last got a first?

- l can't imagine.
- 1957.

ln geography.

Well, of course, Godber.

lt's quite unnatural for these young men
to live on top of each other like this

in this foetid sexual atmosphere.

Foetid sexual...

They need female competition.

Make Porterhouse coeducational.

Oh, but l've already appalled them once
this evening at their dreadful Feast.

Guzzle, guzzle, guzzle.

Those gross men. lt's a wonder
they don't all have strokes.

Oh, but they do.
lt's called a Porterhouse Blue.

- lsn't that for rowing?
- No, it's an apoplectic fit

brought on by greed and gluttony.

The Dean seemed quite proud of it.

He's a quite appalling man.
He'll fight you.

Oh, l'm sure l can handle him, Mary.

Four years in the Cabinet have taught me
a trick or two.

l'll soon isolate the Dean. The Senior Tutor
only thinks about the river,

so l'll make sure he gets his quota
of beefsteak for the rowing club.

- Then there's the Bursar.
- That horrible little snob.

Precisely. And he's revoltingly ambitious.

So l'll fix him
with a government committee.

We must invite him to dinner.

Godber, l've already got myself
on the committee for battered wives

and the Samaritans.

- l shall have no time for dinner parties.
- No, quite, my dear.

And you must do something
about that insolent head porter.

Yes, my dear.
Really, he was awfully rude to you.

l can't think why.

(Sighs)

Oh!

(Sighs)

And by the time the war was over
there were four and twenty less

Singing balls to your partner,
arse against the wall...

You all right, sir?

Yes, thank you, Skullion.

Tell the servants they excelled themselves.

Yes, sir, they'll be very pleased.

What a college this was once,
eh, Skullion?

When the young men were all so healthy
and so naturally violent.

Sir. Gentlemen they were then, sir.

Had a quality.

A race apart.

Arrogant, rude -
something you could respect.

- Exactly.
- They never had any doubts, sir,

not like this new Master.

That's what he's got, sir - doubts.

- l mean, all these improvements.
- Mmm.

- l'm glad we see eye to eye.
- Sir.

They can improve things as much as
they like, it never makes them any better.

No, sir.

- Good night, sir.
- Good night, Skullion.

l thought the lecture awfully good,
don't you agree?

- Oh, yes, awfully good.
- As she so well pointed out,

sex is terribly important, isn't it?

Well, yes, it is, isn't it?
lt's terribly important.

l mean, it really needs putting a stop to,
doesn't it?

- You think that's possible?
- Oh, yes.

lf we can just get all the men
to have vasectomies.

l hope you're considering it.

Oh, yes.

What's the time?

Ten to 12.

- More cocoa?
- Oh, no.

They lock the college gates at 12.

Don't be silly.
None of the colleges lock up at 12.

- l'm at Porterhouse.
- Lord. You'd better run like mad.

You won't miss next week's lecture
on genocide, will you?

Time you went back, sir.

Up you get.

There we go. Up.

Thank you, Arthur.

Do you know who was here tonight?

Po-faced Evans.

Saw him as clearly as you,
playing that piano.

Really, sir.

- This way.
- He was a scholar here, you know.

Grammar-school tyke.

lnk on his nose
and trousers right down past his shoes.

Married some horse-faced woman
with a title for her money

and her influence.

Father was a butcher.

Yes, sir.

That's our new Master.

Don't be silly, Arthur.

(Clock chiming)

- Done in the kitchen and gone home.
- Right.

Ohh!

- Something wrong, Mr Skullion?
- Yes! The new Master.

(Spits) That's what's wrong.

Wants to bring in scholars.

- Oh, dear.
- Yes.

lt's never been a scholars' college.

Character, not brains -
it's always been the Porterhouse way.

Well, l suppose it's all exams these days,
isn't it, Mr Skullion?

- Be exams for portering, next.
- Huh!

Exams don't mean a thing, Walter.

You can always pass them
if you know how.

- What do you mean?
- Never heard of Skullion's Scholars?

No.

How do you think some of these
young men can pass their exams

when they've never opened a book

and can hardly write their name in the dust
with a stick?

- l've no idea, Mr Skullion.
- Sit down, l'll tell you.

Have you ever read Kant and Hobbes?

Nietzsche? Jean-Paul Sartre?

l haven't, Mr Skullion.

- Mmm.
- Have you?

Well, not personally, no.

But l've got unrivalled knowledge
of those who have.

l can get you 20 any day of the week
down the Baron of Beef.

Research students.

Write you an essay for a fiver.

Sit your exam for 500,
if you've got the right man to arrange it.

(Both) Ah!

Skullion's Scholars!

There - now you've got it.

Ah, you'll find them everywhere.

Oh, yeah.

Oh, yes. Ex-ambassadors to Washington.

Senior civil servants,
a quarter of the House of Lords,

half the BBC.

A royal.

- Well, not ours, of course.
- That's amazing, Mr Skullion.

Everything works if you leave it alone.

Here, come on, it's gone 12,
time you were off home.

(Panting)

Never mind, Mr Skullion. lt won't happen.

Dean'll soon see to it.
He's seen off better men.

l hope so, Walter. Good night, now.

Night, Mr Skullion.

(Gasping for breath)

Ow!

(Groans)

Well, well, well. Good evening, sir.
Dean's office for you in the morning.

- l can explain!
- Oh!

Bene edamus

Bene bibamus

Epulas semper concelebramus

Quod imperat regina

Nil impediat doctrina

Sed choro sonoro

Dives in omnia

Sed choro sonoro

Dives in omnia

Collegium, Collegium acclamus

Porterhouse! Porterhouse!

To live and die in Porterhouse!

Dives in omnia

Aah!

- Good evening, Sir Cathcart.
- Well, look at you, Dean!

All done up in your fig!

(Chuckles)

Trouble in college, l hear.
Skullion tipped the wink.

Did he, indeed? Well, Cathcart, l'm afraid
we've been landed with a fool for a Master.

Course you have.
Clever fellows often are, you know.

They get carried away
by what's going on in their silly heads,

and can't cope with people, life.

- Lost the nose for it.
- Quite so, Cathcart.

Mm.

- Have you got a box?
- Box?

Yeah, television box.
Ain't myself, but my gardener has.

Lets me come in and watch it sometimes.

There's a woofter on it called Carrington.

- Cornelius Carrington.
- Yes, l think l've...

Sort of a romantic Tory
television personality.

Ain't that what you call them? l don't know.

Nasty piece of work.

- Old Porterhusian.
- Ah! Young Carrington.

Does this, you know,
investigative journalism.

Give him a scent and off he'll go.

Same club as me.

Can't think why.
Should have been blackballed.

Why do you bring up young Carrington?

Oh, didn't l say?

Got the ponce up for a couple of days.

Likes staying in great houses, you see.
A snob.

And he wants to do something on Godber.

- Ah!
- Ah. Come in and meet him.

Ah, there you are. You remember the Dean.

Yes, indeed. How are you?

Discipline Dean. Romany Rye. Scott?

Well, well, young Carrington.
Still keeping up the sport?

- Do you have brandy, Cathcart?
- Mmm, Balzac.

l never was a sporting man, Dean.

Oh, no, that's right. l recall you showed
a peculiar interest in politics.

- Joined a lot of societies.
- Dear God, man, you didn't?

One of the subversives, eh?

Well, l'd hardly call
the United Nations Association subversive.

Must be. Stands to reason.

Wouldn't exist if they weren't trying
to subvert something or another.

Well, we haven't seen you
for a very long time, young man.

l do appear on the television
at least once a week.

Ah. One doesn't watch that.
No, l meant in college.

To my knowledge you've not revisited us
since, what, 197 4?

Something like that. l lead a busy life.

Well...Prost!

Prost, indeed!

l'm told
by those who know about these things

you've made some name for yourself
in the entertainment industry.

Not entertainment.
l consider myself a maker of opinion.

Bloody opinion!

Still, you are one of the few distinguished
men College can claim in recent years.

lf distinction is the word for television.

Yes, l can see you and the college
have changed very little, Dean.

(Manic giggling)

l must get rid of them. l must get rid of them.

Oh, how can l ever get rid of...

(Knocking)

(Foxton) What's going on in there?

Erm... Sorry, Foxton, l've got diarrhoea.

ls that you, Zipser?

Erm... Yes, Foxton.

Well, hurry up. l need a pee.

Yes.

Yes, coming, Foxton.

Get out of the way, you bloody oaf.

- Yes, Foxton.
- Got a hoover bag in there?

No, Foxton.

ln Porterhouse
we have tried to remain steadfast,

when others have preferred mere fashion.

But Sir Godber must be altering all that.

That tithead!

He was always considered
a clever politician.

No. Looks clever. Damn fool.

Different in the old days.
Looked damn fools, were clever.

The British always did best
when they were chinless wonders.

Confused the foreigners, you see.
Put the other fellow off.

Can't take you seriously.

Then, when he's off guard,

you give it to him in the goolies!

Never fails. Out like a light.

Hey, come out, you.

- What's going on?
- Some sod's using our toilet.

Come on, you. Use your own loo.

(Banging on door)

Come out, come out, wherever you are!

lt's bloody old Zipser!
Shall we throw him in the fountain?

No, no, let him go. Clever man, Zipser.

Good God!

So tradition is in conflict with change.

He's outraged the fellows, threatened
the servants, proposes to admit women,

and generally brought us
to a quite explosive situation.

Of course,

our small problems
can hardly interest a man like yourself,

from the great world of the media,

as l think it is called.

No. Do go on.

Sir Cathcart thinks there might be
a programme in this.

- Yes.
- l do a show, you know.

No, clearly, you don't.

Questioned By Carrington, a searching look
at British institutions in change.

So, an explosive situation.

Sod off, Foxton.

Head Porter here, Mr Zipser.
Open the door.

What? Mr Skull.

Just one minute.

- l'm having a bath.
- No bathroom in there, Mr Zipser.

- What is it, Mr Skull?
- l need to talk, Mr Zipser.

- About that very confidential matter.
- Confidential?

lntimate matter, sir. Not something
that can be dealt with through a door.

- What about?
- lt's about being...examined, sir.

- Examined?
- Yes, that's right, Mr Zipser.

- Now, can l come in?
- No, not now.

lt's very important, sir. Career at stake.

Oh.

Erm...

Come back in the morning. l'm not very well.

Yeah, but Mr...

All right, then, Mr Zipser.

(Telephone)

Hello. Samaritans. Can we help?

Samaritans? Please, can you help me?

(Muffled) l'm in terrible trouble.

l'm sorry, young man,
you'll have to speak up.

Now, just pull yourself together
and enunciate quite clearly, and...

Lady Mary.

l'm sure l know that voice.

l'm going mad.

l'll never get rid of them.

Float them away!

(Bell tolls)

- Midnight, Mr Skullion. A nasty night.
- Yeah.

- l think everything's quiet.
- Right, well, you get off home then, Walter.

- Well, Dean's not back yet.
- Don't worry, l'll lock up. l'll see to the Dean.

l wonder how he got on with Sir Cathcart.

Hmm.

Yes, we have ways.

- (Chuckles)
- Yes, Mr Skullion.

- Night, then.
- Good night, Walter.

(Escaping gas)

(Pop)

(Clock chimes)

(Slurring) lt's past my bedtime, Cathcart.

Young Carrington.

Good to meet an old Porterhusian again.

l'm afraid l've been rather a bore,

chatting away like this
about our petty college scandals.

No, l'd like to hear more.
Can l could and see you in college?

Any time. Drop in for tea.
l do a splendid toasted crumpet.

Oh... Erm... Oh...

But of course, much of what l've said
is quite between ourselves.

l don't know,
sounds like a good programme to me.

Nothing the British public likes better
than old buildings, tradition, nostalgia.

Ain't l right, Carrington?
That's what the box is for.

There's something in that, Sir Cathcart.

l waited up for you, sir.

- Are you all right, sir?
- Ah! Thank you, Skullion.

- Very hospitable, isn't he, Sir Cathcart?
- Exactly so, Skullion, yes.

Was he, erm... Was he very helpful, sir?

l think we'll see some changes, Skullion.
Yes, l really think we will.

Mm. Er...
Erm, sir, shall l help you to your room?

Nonsense, Skullion. l can manage.
Good night.

Yes, good night, sir.

(Squeaking)

God!

Come here.

(Bursting)

(Rubbery squeaking)

(Dean) What would you say this was?

l don't really like to say, sir.

l just found it in the quad.

Oh, yeah?

Floating about, as at some fair.

Very unnatural they are, sir.

Quite.

Like some gigantic cocktail sausage.

l want them cleared away, Skullion,
before it gets light.

The college's reputation is at stake.

We don't want to become
the laughing stock of the university.

No, sir.

Clear 'em away, yes. The quad, you said?

Yes, and don't disturb me.
l'm feeling very... (Slurs)

Oh! Oh! Oh!

Gotcha! Gotcha!

Ah! Heeyah! Hurgh!

Ooh!

Oh, go, go, go, will you?

Get down, get down!

Bloody kill 'em, smash 'em to...
Where are they coming from?

(Snoring)

Yoo-hoo! Mr Zipser!

Mr Zipser, it's me.

What?

- What time is it?
- Half past four, my darling.

Half past four?

l've seen the way you look at me, love.

l know what you're thinking.

Well, l feel the same.

The same?
You're not supposed to do that, Mrs Biggs.

- This your first time, dear?
- (Gasps)

Don't you worry. You just lie there a minute
and contain yourself.

l'm going to light the gas.

Nothing like a nice, warm fire for after.

After what?

Silly boy!

lt's all coming true, Mr Zipser.

But it's against the college rules. Erm...

Uh...

We can't do this, Mrs Biggs.

l've been gated.
l'm not allowed to do anything for a week.

l ought to be concentrating...on my thesis.

- Do you want me sent down?
- Do what you like, dear. (Giggles)

l'm all yours.

- (Gasps)
- (Chuckles)

Oh! Ohh.

Oh, Mrs Biggs!

- Mrs Biggs!
- That's right.

Now, Mr Zipser,

not too quick.

- Not too quick.
- Mrs Biggs!

Godber? What is it? What's happening?

l think the Bull Tower's collapsed.

Collapsed?

Now, Mary, calm yourself.
Remember you're a Samaritan.

Now, l'm going down there
to give all the help l can.

l want you to telephone
the ambulance and the fire brigade.

- You mean people are hurt?
- Bound to be, Mary. lt went up like a bomb.

Skullion! Stop that.

Go and open the gates. The fire engine
and the ambulance are on their way.

- Can't do that, sir.
- What did you say?

Can't let strangers in here with all these
filthy things hanging about.

- lt wouldn't be right.
- There are people hurt in here, man.

Sir, the college would be
the laughing stock of the university.

You'll pay for this, Skullion!

You, go and open the gates at once.

You've got no sense of tradition,
you haven't!

To live and die in Porterhouse

(Sirens)

Collegium, Collegium

Porterhouse

Collegium, Collegium

Bene vivere

Et ludere

Vivamus

To live in Porterhouse

Porterhouse

Splendidum collegium

He told me to open the gates, sir,

and he still had them filthy things
all lying about.

You yourself said the college would be
the laughing stock of the university.

- The Master is upset. We all are.
- Well, yes, sir.

- Who is it, Arthur?
- lt's a woman.

lt can't be. Women aren't allowed.

lt is. lt's Mrs Biggs.

(Both) Mrs Biggs?

''The influence of pumpernickel on
the politics of 16th century Westphalia''?

My God, it's Zipser!

And Mrs Biggs.
What were they doing together?

Oh, yes. The young man
came to discuss it with me.

He was obsessed with her, you know.

Obsessed with his bedder?
ln heaven's name, why?

Lust, you know.

Good, decent, honest, old-fashioned lust.

Since it is ordained

that the office of burial not be used
for any that die unbaptised,

excommunicate
or having laid violent hands on themselves,

let us commit our young Zipser
to the stony ground,

praying that he be delivered at last
from that burning burden of the flesh

that so long and so tragically
consumed him.

Requiescat in pacem

Amen

Amen

l must say, the quail is quite delicious.

The coroner's inquest
has given me an appetite.

l had feared a less magnanimous verdict.

Suicide while of unsound mind
completely vindicates the college.

Suicide.
Now, that's an interesting topic to consider.

The coroner already has, Chaplain.

Yes, we haven't had a decent suicide
in college for years.

ln the old days, hardly a week went by
without some chap taking the easy way out.

ln my view, it's the decline of morality.

Undergraduates
aren't conscience stricken any more.

ln the old days,
they used to call us Slaughterhouse.

The name may well come back, Praelector.

Oh, but was Zipser really
of unsound mind?

Or is it, of course, as the coroner said?

He was in the grip of an irrational impulse.

Evidently he was in the grip of Mrs Biggs,

but that could well amount
to the same thing.

Few of us can claim a moment
of sexual satisfaction, however fatal,

that leaves behind a bill
of half a million pounds.

That is what it will cost
to rebuild the Tower?

So the Bursar tells me.

Well, l trust the Master will learn his lesson,

and count the cost of the sexual
permissiveness he encourages.

lncidentally, where is the Bursar?

Rubber is a substitute placenta.

The bedder
was an obvious mother substitute.

lt's perfectly obvious, Bursar.

The poor boy was a fetishist.

And filling those things with gas
an obscure form of penis envy.

l assure you, Godber, the penis these days
attracts no envy whatsoever.

No, what all this goes to show is that single
sex colleges create dangerous frustrations.

We must make Porterhouse coeducational
as soon as possible.

Well, l fear there can be no reform
at this time, Lady Mary.

Rebuilding the tower will cost half a million.

And given the appalling publicity we have
received, l have little hope of any appeal.

Then don't rebuild the tower, Bursar.

Now's the chance for the new building,
Lady Mary Hall.

Well, either way, the same problem applies,
Lady Mary.

We shall have to fall back on our own funds.

Which, as Sir Godber knows,
are less than nil.

Proving what l said all along,
the need for economies.

But l dare say you agree with the Dean,
Bursar.

l think the days of the Dean's influence
are numbered, Master.

Some of the younger Fellows
are beginning to face facts

and see the need for a new realism.

Excellent. May l take it
that you are one of them, Bursar?

lndeed, Master.

Ah, l think we ought to have some wine.

Elaine, le vin de elderberry, s'il vous plaît.

ln that case, Bursar,

l think we ought to test College Council
tomorrow with my new proposals.

New proposals, Master?

Mmm. College servants cost us
two hundred thousand a year, at least.

When High Table is abolished,
we shall need very few of them.

Quite, and we'll start by getting rid
of that insolent head porter.

Skullion?
But he's been here 45 years, milady.

Far too long. He thinks he owns the college.

He reached the end of my patience
the night the Tower blew up.

He wouldn't open the gate to the rescue
services until he'd tidied the quad.

He's obtuse, but loyal and conscientious.

And only five years to go to retirement.

But we don't need two porters, Bursar.
Walter can do the job.

Or a woman.
He's only a glorified receptionist.

Well... (Gulps)

- You're not afraid of Skullion, are you?
- Oh, no, milady.

Oh, there's one other thing you must do,
if Mr Zipser is not to have died in vain.

- What's that, Mary?
- lnstall a contraceptive machine.

- Well, l'm not sure...
- There's one in the men's lavatory at King's.

Well, there would be, wouldn't there?

Well, l insist you get contraceptives,
Godber. As soon as possible.

Pas devant les domestiques, Mary.

Godber, she is French.

Walter, go and help Dr Messmer
before he strangles himself.

l'm going off to College Council.

You'd be safer writing your book,
Dr Messmer.

(Dean) Gentlemen, we must bring home
to the Master that in the wake of the tragedy,

our task is to reconstruct the old college.

Times have changed.
That must be made clear.

Yes, Dean. We know.

- Morning, Skullion.
- Morning, gentlemen. Morning, sir.

Right, come on, down to the boiler house
underneath the old library.

- What for, Mr Skullion?
- lt's the Head Porter's intelligence system,

used since time immemorial.

Come on!

Mind yourself on these steps, Cheffy.
l'll put the light on.

All right?

Mind these pipes here.
Here's where it should be.

Now then, see that box there?

Hand that box up.

That's it.

You just get up here behind me.

Put your ear here.

(Dean) Master, they say,
one of the consequences...

So this is how you know, you old bugger!

Ssh!

(Master) l now see that
some of the objections

made to me last week were correct.

l realise that my hopes of raising funds
elsewhere were misguided.

Gentlemen, you were right.

Whatever Porterhouse wishes to do,
it must do from its own resources.

Then l think we may agree reluctantly
that an infinite postponement is inevitable.

Agree?
There's something wrong here, Cheffy.

So the cost of rebuilding
our beloved Bull Tower

must come from college funds themselves.

The cost is half a million.

l understood last week you said
we had no funds at all.

Exactly.

So our building fund must come from
economies we can make within the college.

Oh, yes? What economies?

l am happy to say that our fine Bursar
has been most industrious,

and has produced an admirable plan,

which l hope you will pass without dissent.

l understand it should raise
just exactly half a million.

Thank you, Master. Yes.

This should be just what is required.

Document one
shows the number of college servants.

Abolishing High Table
would mean we need very few of them.

- My bloody kitchens again!
- Ssh, ssh!

- ..same proposals as last week.
- No. That is step one.

Document two is a proposal
for selling college properties

for commercial redevelopment.

But we have no college properties.

Well, except for the houses
on Rhyder Street.

(Master) Precisely.

Not all Fellows may be aware that we own a
number of slum properties in Rhyder Street.

ln a development area!
A property company is already interested.

Slum properties?

Master, those properties
are leased in perpetuity to the servants.

lt compensates for their very low wages.

Them are our houses
he's talking about, Cheffy.

They can't get rid of 'em.
They're ours to retire to.

lf we dispense with college servants,
we would not need their houses.

lt's perfectly legal.

lt's completely immoral.
College is its servants.

(Master) Do you know a better way
of raising half a million pounds?

Our houses, Mr Skullion!

Well, l'm not standing for it.
l'm just not standing...

(Rattles)

- What was that?
- Our dilapidated central heating, Master.

(Master) So, gentlemen,
that is the Bursar's plan.

- Our only way.
- lt is not the Bursar's plan.

lt is a yet more terrible version
of your own proposals.

No one has mentioned document three.
What is this?

A proposal to install
a contrapuntial machine?

A contraceptive machine.

Lady Mary assures me,
with her knowledge of youth,

that had this college had one,
the tragedy would have been avoided.

That caps it all.

- How very well put.
- (Chortles)

You are not fit to be Master of Porterhouse.

Oh, Dean, l am aware of your views
and of your recent activities.

You have continued the attempt
to undermine me and divide the college.

ln view of our agreement,
l should resign here and now.

After the Tower,
we should not survive another scandal.

Exactly. My decision
now rests entirely on your vote.

l stay if these proposals
are accepted in their entirety.

Contents?

lt's inevitable, Dean.

You've tried, failed.

Not contents. l can accept one abstention.

The proposals are carried.

l withdraw my resignation
and look forward to working with you,

or most of you, on the task we now face,
the rebuilding of our dear college.

l don't believe it. The times we've carried
them splifflicated to their rooms!

The secrets we've kept, the insults we took!

College said they'd look after us.
That's why we took the pittance they paid.

Look after us for life, Cheffy. That's
what they said. They've got no right to do it.

- But it's legal, like he said.
- lt may be, but it ain't moral.

- l'm going to tell the sodding Bursar...
- Skullion!

No, Cheffy, they're our houses. Our houses.

No, it's excellent news, Master.

l've just spoken to Mercantile Properties and
they've upped their offer for Rhyder Street.

Six hundred thousand, providing the college
servants leave quickly and without trouble.

Shall l, erm... l'll call you back, Master.

- Skullion. What is it?
- l want to talk to you, sir.

- What's going on in this college?
- You'd better sit down.

l can say what l've got to say standing up.
You've got no right to do what you're doing.

- l can't think what you're talking about.
- Yes, you do!

l'm talking about these changes.

Skullion, College cannot carry on
as it has in the past.

You must realise yourself
finances are in a very poor way.

Especially since the tragedy
of poor Mr Zipser.

Mr Zipser!
What do you care about Mr Zipser?

You're putting in these machines, ain't you?

- Machines?
- Yes, machines for Frenchies.

And you're opening up the college
to women. l call it disgusting.

Those things are none of your business,
Skullion. You're a college servant.

A servant? What do you think a servant is?
Don't you think a servant has some rights?

ln a college like this,
servants are a very large expense.

Porterhouse has no choice
but to make some changes and economies.

Yes! Oh, yes! l know what you mean.

- Yes, the kitchens.
- What do you know about the kitchens?

Oh, l know. Self-service in the hall.
lsn't that what the Master wants?

l don't know how you got your information,
Skullion, but no-one should have told you.

Should or not, l know. l know a lot.

You ought to have gone
to the Porterhouse Society.

They wouldn't have seen
the kitchens change.

And now you're going to try and sell
Rhyder Street. Well, you got no right!

We was promised those houses
in Lord Wurford's day.

- Oh, l see. You know about that, too.
- Yes!

Those houses are not yours.
They belong to the college.

Now, Skullion, nobody likes
doing these things, certainly not l.

- Well, don't do 'em, then.
- But that is our only source of revenue.

lt's always money.

Everything's always blamed on money.

Right.

Right, l've thought about this a lot.

College has been good to me up to now,
so l'm going to help it.

l can't do anything until l go to the bank.

What on earth do you mean, Skullion?

You don't remember Lord Wurford, do you?
No, you wouldn't. You'd only just come.

Well, he was a real Master, he was.

Anyway, he left me a few shares in his will
for a rainy day.

l reckon my rainy day has come.

l'm going to give them to the college.

Providing you leave Rhyder Street alone.

l don't know how much they're worth.
A thousand, maybe two.

Don't be so ridiculous, Skullion.

Have you any idea
of the kind of sums involved?

- You'll need them for your retirement.
- l'm not retiring.

The Master and l
have been discussing your future.

- What?
- You're not a young man.

- Your temper gets worse.
- Temper gets worse?

Temper? What temper?

We feel it would be in your best interests
to seek other employment.

- Sacked?
- No, not sacked, Skullion.

But for everyone's sake, it would be better
if you looked for another job.

You've sacked me?

After all these years in this college?

- And you've sacked me?
- Now, Skullion!

No, it's not you, is it? lt's him!

Porterhouse! Porterhouse!

To live and die in Porterhouse!

You don't understand, Cathcart.

Sir Godber's trying to destroy
something absolutely fundamental,

the future of oligarchy in Britain.

- Eh?
- Who has always run this country?

Where do we find
our prime ministers, diplomats,

theatre directors, actors,
scientists, businessmen?

Even our most famous spies.

Oh, BBC, Dean.

Oxbridge, Cathcart.
Great colleges, like Porterhouse.

For 500 years, we've been
taking every Tom, Dick and Harry,

and turning them into gentlemen.

They may not be gentlemen
when they come,

but they damn well are when they leave.

- lsn't that right?
- Right.

Oh, l've know some real bounders
in my time.

Used to put them in the fountain.
Did them no end of good.

Exactly. Godber Evans is one of those
on whom it just didn't take,

and his revenge
is to turn College into some...

cross between Fitzwilliam
and a hostel for townies.

Who'd want their sons to be educated
in a self-service hamburger bar?

Or an academic gents' lavatory
full of contraceptive machines?

My God! He's not going to start
handing out johnnies?

Yes, Cathcart.

ln my day you were sent down
if you were caught riveting a dolly.

ln any case, you can't put rubber
between yourself and life.

(Skullion shouting)

l've come to tell the General.
l've been sacked.

- What?
- lmpossible. You can't have been.

l have, sir. lt was the Bursar. He said
it was about time l found other employment.

Me, at my age! After 45 years in the college.

- But, dear God, man, you are the college!
- l'll talk to the Bursar when l get back.

lt'll do no good, sir.
The Master put him up to it.

First he kicks all the servants
out of Rhyder Street. Then he sacks me.

Sir Godber's selling it
for property development.

Oh, can't do that, don't look right.

Old retainers. Got to stable 'em somewhere.

Seven Masters l served.

The first, when l came there 45 years ago,
was Lord Wurford.

He was a real gentleman.
Remembered me in his will.

Yeah, he knew what he owed.

- Even to the servants.
- All right, you old bugger.

What do you want now, hmm?

l want my job. l want what's due me.

And l want those that l helped to help me.

There's a lot of very big names
owe their careers to me, sir.

- l've got the list.
- List of what?

You leave this to us, hmm?

Go and ask Cook to give you a cup of tea.

Yes, sir.

Good man.

Thank you, sir.

What list is that?

Eh? Oh, never you mind, Dean.

No, this is serious. You'd better find that
Bursar and tell him he can't sack Skullion.

Head porter knows everything
that's going on in the college.

Always a slippery sod, that Bursar.

No, it wasn't him. He wouldn't dare.

lt was that Sir Godber.
Just cos l stood up to him.

Anyway, Cheffy, you coming in for a minute?

- Go on, in you go.
- Funny, us neighbours.

This is the first time l've been in.
l always respected your privacy.

Slum properties! lt's like a little palace.

Yeah, well, you sit yourself
down there, Cheffy.

That's it.

(Grunts)

You know, Cheffy, l never
thought about my life. l did as l was told.

Always listened to 'em.
Always did everything l could for 'em.

That's right, Mr Skullion.

Of course, in the old days,
well, they were worth respecting.

Oh, yes. Very fair, very generous.

Old Lord Wurford, you know,
left me a very nice legacy.

Oh, yes.

You know, l offered that to the Bursar
and he turns round and he sacks me.

You've always done well for yourself,
Mr Skullion.

That and your racing tips,
you must have a bit put by.

l'm all right that way.

Hmm, now, let's see.

Ah, Lord Wurford's shares.

Must have enough for a nice place
and a comfortable retirement, eh?

l don't want that.

l want my house. l want my job.

l want my respect.

l've been at Porterhouse
longer than anyone.

What do you think they'll say about it? Eh?

Oh, yes, Cheffy. More famous names there
than you'd care to mention.

Royals, bishops, ministers,
members of Parliament.

And they all owe their careers to me.

Good Lord! What's these?

- Skullion's Scholars?
- Yes. Kept a list.

Still get a Christmas card from some of 'em.

Don't worry, Cheffy. They'll see me all right.

They better had,

or a lot of very famous people
are going to be in for a lot of trouble.

- Excuse me? Skullion, isn't it?
- What if it is?

l thought so. You probably
don't remember me. Carrington.

l was up at Porterhouse in the '70s.

Right, yes, you had rooms above the Hall.

Yes, that's right. Yes.

What a memory!

- Flirty Bertie, they called you.
- Yes.

- Someone told me they'd turned you out.
- Might have, might not.

Porterhouse always had such a good
reputation with its college servants.

lt's known for fairness. Lord Wurford
would never have turned out his head porter.

He'd sooner have cut his own throat.

l was wondering,
would you like to talk about it at all?

- What do you mean?
- l'm in television, you see.

lt's just a little interview,
a few questions about the changes.

lt might help you.

l don't know.
Where would you want to do it?

- How about outside the college gates?
- No. Not going back there.

ln your own house, then. ln Rhyder Street.

No. lt's college property,
so it wouldn't be right.

- l'd do it in London.
- Yes, but we're filming on location here.

l only do the live links in London.

l don't like films. Unnatural.

Like them contraceptives.

No, l do it in London or l don't do it at all.

Thing is, l haven't been to London
for, what, 13 years?

l'd quite like to go back. l'd pay me own fare.

Very well, Skullion. We'll do it in London.

Right. Erm...

And now this porter's been sacked?

Well, what kind of story is it?

Glorious tradition
destroyed by modern stupidity,

or blind conservatism
standing in the way of change?

Well, the Dean wants us to expose
the corruption of modern day liberalism.

He reminded me l got a lousy 2:2,
accused me of selling my soul to the media,

and then said he wanted
to appear on the programme.

God, look at this place! How l hated it!

This is the fountain they kept putting me in.

And over there's the tower
the contraceptives blew up.

Fantastic!

Well, if you're having sex,
always go for the big one. Right?

So, let us emphasise the aspect of tradition,
young Carrington.

May l be seen
arranging the hymnals for the choir?

No, no, we want you right here, please,
in front of the statue.

- OK, going for a take.
- OK, ready. Turn over.

- Righto, Dean. Colleges like... now.
- Take one.

- Erm...
- And action!

Erm... Yes.

Colleges like ours have always been
celibate communities.

ln my view, the thing that keeps
an academic fellowship together is sex.

Marriage for the Fellows l still regard
as a new and dangerous innovation.

l hope that is not old-fashioned of me.

As for introducing women
into a male college like ours,

that is simply an erotic fantasy
on the part of our new Master.

- And...cut.
- End board it.

Five, take one. End board.

(Senior Tutor) Lightly with your hands!
Delicacy of touch.

As when offering a cup of tea to your aunt.

Number five, you're washing out!

Cover your blades.

Ow!

Senior Tutor,

Porterhouse has an astounding reputation
for its rowing.

You coach them. How do you achieve it?

We always put sport first, you know,
over academic achievement.

And we take training seriously.

That's why we demand
the highest standard of college cuisine.

You won't get a good performance out of
a young man unless he's properly fed.

Number four! Shove it in and push it.

When l say, ''Now'',
l want you to take one mouthful,

and then say what l told you to say.

Right, come on, let's go. Take 1 7.

- OK, turn over.
- Take 1 7.

- Ready.
- And...

Ready.

Now, Chaplain.

Now, Chaplain!

Ah! (Chuckles)

Now, many scholars believe

that Porterhouse began life as a nunnery.

Erm... This is a confusion.

There were nuns here,
but for rather different purposes.

Now, the college began as a brothel,

and that was quite an ordinary thing
in the 15th century.

And this broadminded view
l've tried to encourage in my students

when l'm advising them.

Try au pair girls,

language students.

That's what l always say.

Mmm! (Chuckles)

Mmm, this is delicious, Abel.

- (Knock at door)
- Come in.

- Mr Skullion.
- Yes.

- How can l help?
- Thank you.

- Please sit down.
- Yes. Thank you, sir.

Well... l want to buy a house.

Always a sensible investment.

Yes.

Ah. Do you have
any particular property in mind?

Yes, sir. lt's the house l live now,
in Rhyder Street.

Oh. l happen to know that Rhyder Street
is on the market as a lot.

There's already been a substantial bid.
Very substantial indeed.

- l appreciate that, sir.
- You have a few thousand in your account.

That won't go very far in Cambridge
and you won't get a mortgage at your age.

- Oh... Look here.
- Now, what's all this?

lt's my legacy, sir.
Some shares been left me.

How long have you had these?

Since before the war, sir.

Left me by Lord Wurford.

Very honourable man, he was, sir.

Mr Skullion, l'm afraid this might come
as a little bit of a shock to you.

There's nothing wrong with the shares,
is there, sir?

l mean, Lord Wurford, he was a gentleman.
They must be worth something.

Well, at a rough guess,
they're worth about half a million pounds.

Half a million pounds?

You could buy up the whole of Rhyder Street
if you wished.

Though if l were you, l'd find a fine property
somewhere and start a new life.

A very nice new life.

Oh, no, l don't want a new life.
l want my old one.

l want my porter's job back.

Oh, come now, Mr Skullion.
Your servant days are over.

Why not go back home and think about it?

Half a million pounds?

We would be very happy to assist you
with any investments you may wish to make.

lt's funny. l offered them to the college.

They could have rebuilt the Tower
and everything.

Well, thank you very much. l'm very grateful.

Hadn't you better leave those certificates
with me for safekeeping?

No, l'll take them with me,
if you don't mind, sir, in the box.

You see, l remember Lord FitzHerbert.

Yes. So, alas, do we.

Well, thank you, sir.

So, what about Sir Godber?
What's his point of view, then?

l went and had tea with him.

He congratulated me on being
the only enlightened son of Porterhouse,

apart from himself, of course.

He gave me permission
to film in the college,

as long as he could bleat on
about his radical philosophy of education.

Then l had his wife all over me.

She's the sort of titled woman
who gives philanthropy a bad name.

Our unhappy Tower, a symbol, l fear,

of what goes wrong
when natural desires are repressed,

and the needs of youth are thwarted.

The past cannot guide us always.

That is what these ruins say to me.

Let us remember that the old,
and l mean anyone over 30,

cannot stand in the way of the new.

l declare myself on the side of the young.

And l personally intend to reach out directly
to our young people,

boys and girls alike,

whose minds and bodies will gladly respond
if fondly approached.

The time has come,
not to look behind, but before.

That is why we must have
women in the college.

(Carrington) And cut!

Marvellous.
Very eloquent, just exactly what l wanted.

Well, thank you.
lt should stir the college up a bit, eh?

- Yes, indeed.
- Well, goodbye.

- Bye-bye.
- Goodbye.

Pompous old fart.

Now, we've got a car and a chauffeur
to take you to the Savoy.

- Oh, what's that, then?
- lt's a hotel, Mr Skullion.

- You said somewhere nice for a few nights.
- Yes, of course. l'll pay. l can, you know.

- Yes.
- What's happening here, then?

They're knocking it about a bit.
Terrorists, is it?

No, they're rebuilding it, Mr Skullion.

(Skullion) They can't leave anything alone
these days, can they?

(Director) Cameras out of line-up.

- Do you want to go over it again?
- lf you like, Mr Carrington.

l'll say ''When did you become
a college servant?'' and you'll say...

- 1937.
- Don't elaborate.

l'll say, ''You've been Head Porter
since 1949,'' and you'll say...

- Yes.
- You've been a college servant for 45 years.

- And you'll say...
- Yes.

Yes. And l'll say, ''What's happened now?''

- And you'll say...
- l've been sacked.

''Any idea why?'' And you'll say...
- No.

No. 1937, yes, yes, l've been sacked, no.
Got it?

Uh-huh. lt's all up here, Mr Carrington.

Fine. Don't kick the table, keep your eyes
on me, never look directly into the camera.

Remember, there are eight million people
out there watching you.

Enjoy the show. Relax.

Bob, l've rewritten the intro. Get it typed.

All know where we are now?
Serena, l'm off to make-up.

Huh! He still does that, then?

- Did that as an undergraduate.
- Yes, he still does.

Are you enjoying London?
How's the hotel?

Oh, nice, l suppose. Too many porters.

Hm.

- What's all this?
- What would you like? Whisky or gin?

What for?

Well, most people like a drink
before they appear.

That explains a lot. No, you go ahead
if you need to. l'll just have my pipe.

Well, all right, but not while we're on air.

Fire regulation.

- Who are all these?
- People that make the programme.

- What, all these, just to take my picture?
- That's right, just to take your picture.

Turn another knob, Chaplain.

Little as l know of these things,
sound, surely, should emerge, as well.

Strong north winds
will die down by the evening.

Temperatures should reach a maximum
of six degrees Centigrade, 43 Fahrenheit.

And now, live from London,
we take our weekly look...

- Good luck, everybody.
- Five, four, three, two, one. ldent.

- Wipe to one. Go.
- Zero.

Stand by, Carrington. And... cue Carrington.

Good evening and welcome to another
edition of Questioned By Carrington.

Tonight we begin by looking at Cambridge,

and in particular, at a Cambridge college
recently rent by controversy.

On film for one minute.

The popular reputation of Cambridge rests
upon the carol service and the boat race.

But to many people, Cambridge
is one of the great centres of learning,

the birthplace of science
and the midwife of culture.

As the young men and, increasingly,
the young women of today's generation

proudly bear away their laurels,

perhaps they remember
the great footsteps they are treading in.

Milton and Darwin, Wordsworth
and Tennyson, Byron and Rupert Brooke.

lsn't that a simulacrum of the Wren Library?

Amazing!

Where the youth of today play on the Backs,

Newton first devised the laws of gravity,

and Rutherford split the atom.

l must say young Carrington has a way
of skipping the centuries fairly rapidly.

But tonight we look at a college
unique even in Cambridge, Porterhouse.

Ah! Us!

The college came to public prominence
when its Bull Tower blew up,

killing a brilliant young student
and his attractive bedder.

Attractive? l never thought so.

One has to allow a little
for journalistic licence, Mary.

..especially when the astounding cause
became known.

Hundreds of gas-filled contraceptives
had exploded in a chimney.

Just what bizarre practices did go on
in ancient Porterhouse?

Did he say bizarre practices?

l went to the college to find out.

First l spoke with the Dean of Porterhouse.

ln my view, the thing that keeps
an academic fellowship together is sex.

That is the answer
to a quite different question.

Then l met the Senior Tutor.

You won't get a good performance out of
a young man unless he's properly fed.

l didn't mean...

The Chaplain, responsible for religious
standards, spoke to me in his set.

Now, the college began as a brothel.

What's that l'm saying?

This broadminded view l've tried
to encourage in my students

when l'm advising them.

Try au pair girls,

language students.

That's what l always say.

Mmm.

This is a total misrepresentation.

Marvellous, Godber.
He's exposed the lot of them.

And finally l met with Porterhouse's new,
reforming Master, Sir Godber Evans.

Now we'll see our side.

And l personally intend to reach out directly
to our young people,

boys and girls alike,

whose minds and bodies will gladly respond
if fondly approached.

Godber!

This was the atmosphere
surrounding the explosive and erotic death

of Lionel Zipser and his shapely bedder.

But as the new broom of change sweeps
through the college, the scandals continue,

bringing rumpus and ruction
to the once-quiet academic cloisters.

With me now is one of Porterhouse's
longest-serving members of staff,

Mr John Skullion.

Skullion? What's he doing there?

Mr Skullion,
when did you first become a college porter?

- 1937.
- And you were made Head Porter in 1949.

- Yes.
- You've been a loyal servant for 45 years?

- Yes.
- And what's happened now?

- l've been sacked.
- You've been dismissed?

- Yes.
- Any idea why?

- Yes.
- You mean no.

No, l mean yes.

l'll tell you why, Mr Carrington.
The new Master, innit, eh?

- Brought in these dreadful changes.
- Yes, l'm sure he has. But...

Machines for johnnies.
French letters to you, sir.

Makes you wonder what young people
go to college for these days.

- That's very true.
- Self-service everything, innit, eh?

Self-service food, self-service drink
and now they've got self-service sex!

They would have been sent down
in the old days.

Progress, they call it.
l don't, l call it immoral.

- Well, immoral it may be, and l think...
- lt's all wrong.

..film will demonstrate that.

Young people shouldn't be taught
they can do what they want.

Life's not like that. l didn't want to be a
porter, but l had to. l had to earn my living.

- Want to go to telecine?
- Oh, no, no. Let's stay with this.

- And so you think...
- l'll tell you what l think.

They've lost their nerves.

- We're running out of time.
- Permissiveness, they call it.

l don't. l call it cowardice.

Huh! All this French letters and queers!

- They used to duck them in the fountain.
- Did you really?

Yes, you remember that.
You remember that, Mr Carrington.

l remember that night
they ducked you and that other poofter.

Ho ho, what was his name, now?

Erm... Course,
l never told anyone about that, sir.

- Head Porter sees everything, says nothing.
- That's very true, yes.

l know my place, sir.
Not my job to ask questions.

That's the modern attitude,
asking questions.

l'll leave that to the likes of you
and this new Master.

We're staying with you, Cornelius.
lt's great, he's doing fine.

What none of you seem to realise
is that most people, decent people,

they want certainties,
that's what we used to have in this country.

No doubt, Mr Skullion,
but times have changed.

Not for me, Mr Carrington. Ah, no.

You tell it to Skullion,
it's like telling it to the statues in the chapel.

Lord Wurford used to say that, you know.

- l'm sure he'd have appreciated that.
- l know all about him, and all.

Oh, yeah. Policemen scrubbing him
in the bath, everything!

Lord Wurford?

l didn't say a word, sir. Didn't tell a soul.

Like you, he appreciated that.
Left me a legacy.

- Lord Wurford left you a legacy?
- Oh, yeah.

Turned out to be worth more than l thought.
Of course, l offered it to the college.

Let me get this straight.
You offered your legacy to Porterhouse?

Oh, yes, sir. Oh, yes.
Very good to me, they were, in the past.

Yes, yes. And what happened
when you made this very generous offer?

''No,'' said the Bursar.
''l wouldn't dream of taking it.''

The next second, he gives me notice.

Bursar, is this true?
He offered his legacy to College?

We couldn't accept
the poor man's life savings.

- Yes. Well, there we are.
- After 45 years, eh? Eh, 45 years?

Also, he kicks out all the other servants
from their houses.

- That's how they're treating us now.
- Yes.

All colleges have their secrets.

Yeah, like ours.
Our secret endowment fund.

Oh, God.

And what exactly is
your secret endowment fund?

People buy places for their sons by offering
us gifts. That's how we run the kitchens.

You're implying that
a major British institution, a major college,

is accepting money
in return for university places?

Right. Yeah. That's right.
What's wrong with that, eh?

Why can't people spend their money
the way they like? That's the British way.

lt's the same with degrees, you know.
You can buy them, too.

l've fixed that.

- You'd remember that, eh?
- l don't know what you're talking about.

l'm afraid there, we really must leave it.

Stand by, VT,
we're taking the break earlier than planned.

- That's all we've got time for.
- l've got a list, all their names.

- A lot of famous people.
- After the break...

- Are our underground trains clean?
- Here it is.

Another major British institution...

That is ruddy marvellous, that is!
l've got a hole in my picture now!

Get down here and stop this.
Get him out of the studio.

Get Brian for me now. Get Brian now!

Otherwise this programme
may not continue after the break.

Extraordinary. Quite extraordinary.

So that's what they do in the television.

lt was a disgrace.
We should never have cooperated.

And l expected far better of Skullion.

l think he showed a certain dignity.

That awful creature!
He ruined nice Mr Carrington's programme.

- l can't think why they had him on.
- l can.

- Still, it showed the Dean in a terrible light.
- lt showed us all in a terrible light, Mary.

Your nice Mr Carrington
deliberately make us look like idiots.

And as for Skullion! As for Skullion!

Godber, careful.
Don't have a Porterhouse blue.

Anyone would think someone
had done the damn man an injustice.

Anyone would see he was a dreadful oaf.

Never let him set foot in this college again.

He exposed our bankruptcy and he told
the world we condoned the sale of degrees.

- That's very wrong of you, Godber.
- Dear God, l didn't condone it.

No, l'm just Master
of the idiot college that did.

You'll have to resign again.

That, Mary, is the one thing l cannot do.

lt would look like accepting responsibility.

No, as far as the world's concerned,
l now am Porterhouse.

God help me.

He's somehow touched the authentic chord
of English nostalgia.

He's become a kind of national hero.

l acquired some interesting information
at dinner in Emmanuel last night.

Terrible place. l had some cutlets there
once which disagreed with me.

That legacy Skullion offered college.

lt's worth a great deal more
than anyone might suppose.

About half a million pounds.

But one could hardly accept... What?
Good God, it could have paid for the Tower.

Of course. Now every college in Cambridge
is after him.

Oh, Lord!

l saw him last night when he returned. All
he wants is to come back to Porterhouse.

He's a loyal old stick, is Skullion.

What are you getting at, Dean?

lf College Council
were to demand his reinstatement

at this morning's emergency meeting...

..the Master would be
in a totally impossible position.

Bull's-eye, Senior Tutor!

Dives in omnia

Gentlemen, l have called this meeting
because we are again in crisis.

We cannot begin.
There's a woman present.

From now on,
Lady Mary will attend all College Councils.

l find it impossible
to run the college without her.

No Master had such a problem before.

No Master was married to me before.
Get on with it, Godber.

Thanks to the indiscretion that occurred
on a recent television programme,

Mercantile Properties
have withdrawn their offer for Rhyder Street,

the University requires the reform
of our entire admissions procedure,

we are castigated in the press, the college
has been brought into disrepute.

- We all know who is responsible.
- l had assumed the Master is responsible.

The first admission of that kind
l've had from you, Dean.

Very well. lf l am, l demand
we issue a statement disclaiming the past,

announcing new admission procedures
and stating our plans for total reform.

Which are, l take it, accepting scholars,
women and self-service,

building Lady Mary Hall...

And installing a contraceptive machine.

Does anyone have a better proposal?

Yes, Master. l propose we issue a statement
rescinding the dismissal of Skullion,

and the Bursar's scheme.

- Hear, hear.
- lt's out of the question, Godber.

lt's out of the question, Senior Tutor.

This is a man
who offered his life savings to the college.

This is the man who put our reputation
in jeopardy in the first place.

He told the world we sell degrees.

lf he returned, he would
doubtless withdraw the allegations.

Skullion has his faults,
but above all, he's loyal.

- (All) True, true, true.
- He was speaking no more than the truth.

Then why do you object
to his reinstatement?

Shall we persecute a man
for telling the truth?

May l ask we put it to the vote?

That is the proper course
under college statutes.

- Godber, you're the Master.
- Precisely.

l too have consulted college statutes,
and l find that, as the Dean said,

the Master is fully responsible
for everything that happens in the college.

Exactly, Master.

Right. l intend herewith
fully to accept that responsibility.

Senior Tutor,
l relieve you of the task of admissions.

l will select all freshmen,
or rather, freshpersons, myself.

Bursar, l relieve you of the duty
of selecting and dismissing servants.

l will do that, too, and in no circumstances
will l reinstate Skullion.

This is a gross usurpation
of our prerogative.

You can't do this, Master.

Dean, as expert on our traditions,
am l not reclaiming an ancient authority?

Master, reluctantly,
l must acknowledge that you are.

Good, because l haven't finished yet.

Gentlemen, this council has treated
the college as its private property.

lt is not your rotten borough, but a public
institution with public responsibilities.

You have failed in them,
and l therefore dissolve you.

You will be replaced by a staff-student
council, chaired by me and my wife.

Bursar, you alone will represent the fellows.

- Now go. You are all dismissed.
- (All) Dismissed?

Jolly good, Godber.

That's the stuff l married you for.

Porterhouse, Porterhouse

How's retirement, then, Mr Skullion?

How was London?
We all watched you on TV.

You was wonderful, Mr Skullion.
That told 'em, eh?

What happened at Council, Walter?

Well, Mr Skullion,
all the fellows wanted you back.

But the Master
abolished the council altogether.

He can't do that. College Council
goes back 250 years, Walter.

Took on ancient powers, you see.

Even Dean said it was proper
under statutes.

That's it, then.

Mastered.

He's... He's won.

Porterhouse

Let me get you a drink? Your usual?

Porterhouse

To live and die in Porterhouse

Dives in omnia

Only three of us tonight?

Yes, sir. No-one seems to have the appetite.

All skulking in their tents.
They know it's the end of things.

lt's totally monstrous.
He's taken absolute power.

The man's appalling, but one cannot
withhold a sneaking admiration.

Once again,
he's hoist us with our own petard.

According to the tradition we cherish,
he's entirely in the right.

- There's nothing more we can do?
- Nothing.

Except resign ourselves
to a future of unisex louts in boiler suits,

studying vitamins and sociology.

Or else, resign ourselves.

- Unless, of course...
- Unless?

l was merely reflecting on the record
of Sir Godber's administration.

Two deaths,
destruction of an ancient monument,

national scandal over admissions,
charges of corruption,

financial and sexual chicanery
and greed of rule.

lnnumerable letters in the press supporting
the stand of our dismissed Head Porter.

l would not call his position secure.

lndeed, one small nudge...

A nudge? From whom?

Arthur, go and do something else.

You remember Skullion
mentioned his Scholars on television?

That? Yes, indeed.

l got the list of names off Skullion yesterday.

80 or so names,
some extraordinarily notable.

- Senior Tutor, shall we go to a party?
- ln my present gloomy mood, l...

lt's Sir Cathcart's birthday.

A lot of very eminent Old Porterhousians are
coming down, most distinguished people.

(Paper rustling)

At this rate,
poor Messmer will never finish his book.

l'm a trifle apprehensive.
l know absolutely no one.

You may not know them, but l can
assure you many of them remember you.

We're in the presence
of some of our most distinguished alumni.

Oh! Good evening.

Could you tell Sir Cathcart the Dean of
Porterhouse would like to see him urgently?

You will explain
this is urgent national business?

(Stereo)
Breaking all the young girls' hearts

Never counting,
never wondering what they say

Breaking all the young girls' hearts

Never minding what they say

Breaking all the young girls' hearts

Never counting,
never wondering what they say

l never thought Cathcart knew
so many gay young things.

l must say, this is quite an insight
into the high life.

One had heard rumours
of strange goings-on at Coft Castle, but...

Cathcart? lt is you, is it, Cathcart?

You can't come to my party
dressed like that.

This call isn't entirely social.
Things in College have reached a crisis.

The Master has assumed absolute powers.

Good God, man! Not tonight.

Shouldn't have got yourselves
stuck with the poncing arse!

l can think of no better night, Cathcart.

There must be an awful lot
of these people here.

Skullion's list?

Put that away, man.
Don't you know how dangerous that is?

Exactly. lt seems a large part
of the British establishment

had a most unusual educational career.

Always wondered about your First, Cathcart.

Well, paid a bit more
and got myself a brilliant man.

Treat yourself to the best, l always say.

Out there must be
a number of people close to the PM.

At least two cabinet ministers
and several permanent secretaries.

At least.

lf they were to discover
their names on this list,

l am sure they would be anxious
to persuade the Prime Minister

of Sir Godber's unsuitability.

Good God, man!

You never give up, do you?

Well, you're not going in there
dressed like that.

Spoil my bash!

Figgis, get 'em some costumes.

You left in the nick of time, l reckon.

Now he says he wants a woman porter.

We'd all go if we could afford it.

Oh, l can afford it, Walter. l can afford it.

Chance to live a bit, Mr Skullion.

Tried that, Walter.

Went to London. lt's all right for one night,

but the beds are too soft, the carpets
are too thick, the water's too hot.

And what's more, their beer is piss.

The world's your oyster, Mr Skullion.

l've had enough of oysters, Walter.
l just want my old job back.

Are you all right, Mr Skullion?

Yeah.

See the pig over there in the diapers?
Member of the Cabinet.

And the bull over there,
with the ring through his nose,

former Governor of the Bank of England.

- l must have taught most of these people.
- Yes.

Well, they're big boys now. Very big.

You should have no trouble at all
getting rid of old Godber.

l hear the PM is still looking for a new
Governor for the Falkland lslands.

As long as there's
a social problem or two for Lady Mary.

Come along, Figgis. Stir your fetlocks.

Member of the Cabinet.

Governor of the Bank of England.

l'm raring to go with you

Do say that you want me to

Now that l've come around,
don't let me down

l'm ready, ready to go with you

Do say that you want me to

Now that l've come around

Don't let me down

l'm ready, ready to go with you

Do say that you want me to

Now that l've come around

Don't let me down

(Knock at door)

- Who's there?
- Head Porter, sir. Skullion.

What do you mean?
Your employment has been terminated.

So Bursar said, sir.
l'd like to hear it from you, sir.

The Bursar has explained the situation fully.

l'd like a word, sir. l think after 45 years
in the college, l deserve a word.

- Oh, very well, man. Come in.
- Thank you, sir.

This college has been my life, sir.
My whole life.

Do you realise that?
lt's meant everything to me, sir.

Well, it certainly didn't sound so
on television last week.

- Well, come in.
- l spoke my mind, sir.

l thought l had a right,
being fired after 45 years.

l know, Mr Skullion.

Skullion... sir.

When l was a boy we used to go
and stand by the Catholic church

and wait for the new gentlemen
to come out in the cabs from the station.

And we used to jump out and yell,
''Carry your bags, sir?''

And we used to run beside the horses,
all the way here.

That's how l started, 45 years ago,

running a mile and then
carrying their trunks in for sixpence.

You've had a useful life, Skullion.
But that was your day and now it's over.

l gather you've a decent legacy.

l suggest you make up your mind
to enjoy your retirement.

You heard about my legacy, then, sir?
How l offered it to the college?

We could hardly take
your hard-won savings.

Not even if l offered it again, sir?

Don't be absurd, man!

- l think you'd better go.
- Have you any idea what they're worth?

- No. Now get out, Skullion, before l...
- ..call the porter?

Have a look, sir. They're all in there, go on!

- Skullion!
- Shares worth half a million pounds.

That's what that slimy sod the Bursar
turned down.

That would have saved the college.

You could have bought the scholars, paid
for Lady Whatsit's Hall. Don't you want it?

l don't want it. l just want my job back, sir.

l just want my porter's job back.

Oh!

Master, l'm sorry. l... l'm...

(Rings)

Hello. Samaritans. Can we help?

(Distressed panting)

Who are you? What are you doing?

- (Heavy breathing)
- Don't be disgusting.

Help. Help. Help me.

That's what we're here for. But we really
cannot do much if people don't speak up.

Help me, Mary. l have fallen.

Ah, you're a Catholic.

Well, however you fell,
we all make mistakes, remember.

Even l do. You must pull yourself together.

lt's your duty.

lt... lt's Godber.

Then don't be so silly, Godber!

l can't take personal calls
when l should be helping people in trouble.

That, l take it,
is what they mean by a thrash.

Certainly that is what they were doing
at the end.

lt was also very useful. That seems
to have cooked a certain goose for good.

Cathcart really does know
some very highly placed people.

One recognised a thigh or two
from most exalted circles.

- (Wheezing) Please...
- Wasn't that a princess that we...

- Please.
- What was that?

Dean...

- There's a drunk over there.
- Perhaps you'd better put him on report.

Dean...

- Good grief!
- Heavens, it's the Master.

Perhaps he's been celebrating.

(Wheezing) l...

l'm...not drunk.

Listen. Listen.

- Skull...
- Skull?

- (Weakly) No, not skull.
- Not skull?

Skullion...

- The porter?
- Skullion?

Yes... Yes...

Skullion... Understand?

Oh. l'll take this, Master, if you don't...

Skullion?

- l think he's dead, Dean.
- Good Lord!

l'm sure he's there. There's a light.

Skullion, open this door at once,
do you hear? lt's the Dean.

Skullion, we must talk.
This is going to be a big shock.

- l know, sir.
- The Master died this evening.

The Senior Tutor and l
found him dying in the quad.

- The quad, sir?
- The place is immaterial.

- What matters...
- Seven Masters l've served.

He was the worst,
but l never meant him any harm, sir.

But you know the law as well as we do.

- Yes, sir.
- We have no alternative.

According to ancient precedent,

a dying master's words uttered
in the presence of two or more fellows

- constitutes...
- ..an unalterable decision.

Thank heavens we don't have to go
to the Prime Minister.

The choice is singular,
but there have been precedents.

- Sir Thomas Willings.
- Exactly.

Thomas Willings the pastry cook,
in the 18th century.

l have assumed the office of Acting Master.

College Council is gathering.
l must tell them your decision.

l take it you accept to be
Master of Porterhouse?

Splendid, Master!
Let me be the first to congratulate you.

Congratulations, Skullion.

l trust that this will mean
a return to the good old ways.

Poor man.
He's most upset, virtually speechless.

The shock must have been enormous.
l can hardly get over it myself.

Well, we'll hear no more
of reform and women now.

- Or contraceptive machines.
- Exactly.

A Master who really understands
the old ways. What luck, eh, Senior Tutor?

A real stroke of luck.

A Porterhouse...Blue.

Salutamus magistrum

Dominum mirabile

Celebramus, celebramus

Splendide institutum

(Rod strikes floor twice)

Celebramus, celebramus

Bene ludere, bene vivere

Bene bibere est praesentum

Omnes, omnes, da mihi

Omnes scholastici

Consecramus nostras horas

Splendidam per titulam

Here's to an excellent year, Master.

The roast swan is, l believe,
better than ever.

Porterhouse
is Head of the River once more.

The restoration of the Tower is finished.

Dr Messmer has completed his book.

He's taking the manuscript
on the train to London tomorrow.

Here's to Lord Wurford's legacy!
Long may it last!

And here's to the chef!
He's done wonders again.

(Grunts)

Tell...Cheffy...

..very...fine...feast.

Yes, Mr Skullion.

Here's to the Master.

He may not have been born
with a silver spoon in his mouth,

but by God, he'll die with one!

Yes... (Gurgling laugh)

Porterhouse! Porterhouse!

To live and die in Porterhouse!

Dives in omnia

Porterhouse, in Porterhouse

Dives in omnia

Bene edamus

Bene bibamus

Epulas semper concelebramus

Quod imperat regina

Nil impediat doctrina

Sed choro sonoro

Dives in omnia

Sed choro sonoro

Dives in omnia

Collegium, Collegium acclamus

Porterhouse! Porterhouse!

To live and die in Porterhouse!

Dives in omnia

Porterhouse, in Porterhouse

Dives in omnia

(Clock chiming)

Yoo-hoo!

Mr Skullion! l want my keys!

l think you've got someone in there
with you.

Right, l'll get them myself, then.

No, you won't, Mrs Biggs.

(Chuckles)

Look at you. Somebody must've wanted
to take a real poke at you.

l'll thank you to mind your own business
Mrs Biggs.

(Laughing)

Seen his whopper?
Mr Skullion's got such a whopper!

- ( Mrs Biggs singing)
- Nice woman, that.

Oh!

(Mrs Biggs) You may see a stranger

You may see a stranger
across a crowded room

- Decent, Mr Zipser?
- Coming, Mrs Biggs.

- l'll bet! (Laughs)
- Sorry to keep you.

You couldn't afford to, dear.

Well, look at you.

You've had a sleepless night, haven't you?
Something on your mind?

My husband used to rip up the sheets
something terrible when he was alive.

Mind you, that was mostly to get at me.

lt's all he ever thought about,
really, me.

And his whippets.

That's what killed him in the end -
taking them for a run

after a night of amour with me.

Ah!

Terrible about Mr Skullion, isn't it?

Big black eye out to here. A right purler.

Not before time, either -
that's what l says to him.

''Somebody must've wanted to take
a real poke at you.''

(Vacuum cleaner starts up)

Mrs Biggs, l'd like to take
a real poke at you.

(Cleaner stops)

- What's that you said?
- Nothing.

Bag's full.

You can't get any suction
when the bag's full.

(Zipser gasping)

Mr Zipser, are you all right?

l'm not myself.

- Fearful things are happening.
- You ought to see a doctor.

Do you often get took queer?

- Certainly not!
- l was only asking.

l had a young man once, just like you,
got took queer every now and then.

He threw himself about
and wriggled something terrible.

lt took all my weight to hold him down,
it did.

l'll get you some cocoa.

- Morning, my dear.
- There you are, Godber.

Non-specific urethritis

has reached epidemic proportions
amongst school leavers.

- Has it, my dear?
- l've been thinking about Lady Mary Hall.

lt must be co-educational, Godber.

Women are constantly disadvantaged
in the ancient universities.

- Jill Tweedie says so.
- That could be going too far too soon.

l've just spent an hour studying
the college accounts.

As far as l can understand,
this college is about €1 million into the red.

- How can it possibly be?
- l've not idea.

But l certainly intend to find out.
This college is not going to be a sinecure.

That's why you turned down the Bahamas.

Nonetheless, Godber, it's your duty
to make Lady Mary Hall co-educational.

Women are just as cheap as men.

Must, must, must, duty, duty, duty.

What did you say, Godber?

l said l must call the Bursar
about the accounts.

lt's my duty.

l did meet one promising student last night.

A Mr Zipser. You must look out for him.

Ah! You, Mr Zipser.

Yes, Mr Skullion.
l had to come and say sorry.

How do you mean, sorry?

- Sorry l hit you last night.
- Oh.

What makes you think that you hit me?

Well, anyway, l'm sorry.

You thought l was gonna report you,
didn't you? Well, l ain't.

Got away, you see. You can't catch 'em,
you can't report 'em.

That's the custom that's been handed
down, so just count yourself lucky.

No, l was worried you might be hurt.

Me? Hurt?

Huh. What's a little hurt matter?

- l don't understand.
- l know you don't, Mr Zipser.

- Mr Giminghams. Keys to the boathouse?
- Please.

Well, anyway, l'm sorry.

You would understand
if you was a gentleman.

- Beastly little swot.
- Mm.

You know, Skullion, my father told me
a rather interesting story about you.

Oh, yes, l remember him, sir.
Now, he was a gentleman.

He told me you got him through tripos
without him sitting the papers.

l think he was having you on,
Mr Gimingham.

Oh, come on, Skullion.

Now, look, you know me.
Been busy rowing.

Drinking and wenching.

So how do they expect me to pass history?
l mean, it's all nonsense.

- You never learn anything from a book.
- Try opening one, Mr Gimingham.

Not much fun, is it?

l'd rather be a Skullion's Scholar.

l haven't done that for some time,
Mr Gimingham.

What are you after, a nice little third?

No, Skullion.
l'm going into offshore banking.

That's more an upper second.

(Sucks teeth)

You need a very good research student
for that, sir.

Would 500 concentrate the mind?

- Oh...
- And the same again for the nerd.

(Coughs)

There's only one here who can do that
in history and he's just left.

- What, Zipser?
- Beggars can't be choosers.

- He'll get you a nice little second.
- He wouldn't do it for me.

There's no need for him to know too much,
Mr Gimingham.

There are ways
in which these things can be...

fixed.

Don't forget the keys to the boathouse,
Mr Gimingham.

Keep your eye away from the keyholes,
Skullion.

Thank you very much, sir.

(Knocking)

Come.

Professor Siblington, l've an appointment
to discuss my thesis with you.

Really?

Come in.

Shut the door.

Sit down. Move that laundry.

What is the subject of your thesis?

Pumpernickel as a factor in the politics
of 16th century Westphalia.

l couldn't supervise that.
l greatly doubt if it was.

- What?
- l greatly doubt if pumpernickel

was a factor in...
what you said it was a factor in.

Professor Siblington,
you gave me the topic.

You've been supervising it for two years.

Two boring, victimised, neglected years.

Then you'd better show me
a portion of your endeavours.

- l gave you three chapters a month ago.
- Must be in all that rubbish over there.

- l trust you kept a copy?
- No, l didn't.

lt's the first thing l tell my students
if l see them - which l rarely do -

always keep a copy.

One can hardly be responsible for the
accumulated detritus of the second year.

lt's lost, isn't it? Two years of work.

Stop whining, man.
Sit down and have a bun.

You seem overwrought, to me.

Finding research too much of a strain?

Or is it...more personal?

How did you know?

lt always is.

Why God gave us genitals,
l cannot imagine.

lt's a great distraction to scholarship.

l've become obsessed...

madly obsessed with my bedder.

l don't do sex, young man.

Just theses.

l think you'd better go and have tea
with the Chaplain.

- lf l can rouse him.
- (Dialling)

You know, l wanted your advice.

The Prime Minister was asking me,
only the other day,

where to find a first-rate economic mind

to sit on a commission on university cuts.

l did say - most indiscreet of me -

''l hear there's a first-rate Bursar
at Porterhouse.''

- Did you, Master?
- You're not offended, then?

Of course, l do realise,
with all your College duties...

One is always pleased
to serve one's country.

Good!

- Er, water or soda?
- Water, please.

Well, you must come to lunch
and we'll discuss it.

Ah.

- To business.
- To business.

- l meant College business.
- Oh.

Now, do sit down.

l must say, coming back to Porterhouse,
many things depress me.

The atavism of some Fellows,
the animalism of some undergraduates,

the college results.

All those thirds
and suspicious-looking aegrotats.

Oh, well, we don't claim
to be an intellectual college.

lt's always said that the reason
Porterhouse produced no Russian spies

was that none of the Fellows knew
where Russia was.

But why choose
such appalling candidates?

- Why not pick good scholars?
- There are one or two obstacles.

- The Senior Tutor?
- Not just he.

l mean, our dependence
on endowment subscriptions.

- l never heard of them.
- Very few have.

One or two of the Fellows

and of course the parents of our less
academically gifted undergraduates.

Do you mean
we take these useless youths

in exchange for concealed donations?

But...

that's tantamount to selling degrees
for bribes.

l say identical.

But without these bribes - donations -
Porterhouse, in a nutshell, is broke.

But why? l mean,
what do other colleges do?

We're not like other colleges.

They're some of Britain's
biggest landowners and shareholders.

King's had Lord Keynes as Bursar.

We had Lord Fitzherbert, the man
who broke the bank at Monte Carlo.

That's his portrait looking down on you.

- But if he broke the bank...
- lt was our bank he broke,

the East Anglian Lowland.

Bet all its assets - our assets -
on the turn of a wheel.

- Did he blow his brains out on the spot?
- No.

We had no choice but to elect him Master.

After an enormous meal,
he died upstairs, in bed, at 80, of...

A Porterhouse Blue.

All he left us with were
a few acres of swamp in Radnorshire

and a terrace of houses in Rhyder Street,

occupied rent free in perpetuity
by the college servants.

l counted the college servants
at last night's feast.

The number was totally excessive.

Well, evidently,
there is room for retrenchment.

And if we enlarge the college, our services
will become far more economical.

All the more reason for the new building.

- But how would we raise the money?
- An appeal, Bursar.

l have some very rich friends in the City.

But Master, won't they want to see
the college accounts?

Ah.

What if this secret endowment fund
were to become generally known?

Mr Skullion, l want a meeting
of College Council this evening at nine.

You can't do that, Master!

The College Council meets
on the first Thursday of the month.

Nevertheless, Mr Skullion,

this evening at nine.

( A Wand'ring Minstrel from The Mikado)

- (Knocking)
- Come!

Morning, sir. Cold and wintry.

Nasty eye, there, Skullion.

Yes, sir, slipped on the path.

- Got away, did he?
- Yes, sir.

- Good for him. Anything else to report?
- Yes, sir.

Master's called a meeting for
College Council, nine o'clock tonight.

Has he, indeed? Then, perhaps,
we'll find out what he's up to.

College Council meets first Thursday
of the month, sir. lt's always been the way.

Yes, Skullion, well, now we have a Master
who does not know all our ways - yet.

- Bursar went to see him this morning, sir.
- Yes, l did know that, Skullion.

- l sent him.
- Bit of a slippery sod if you ask me, sir.

Begging your pardon. Got no bottom,
as Lord Wurford would've said.

The Bursar's bottom
is not your business, Skullion.

ls that all?

Well, there's Cheffy, sir.

- Chef? What's the matter with him?
- lt's all the servants, sir.

Very upset about the Master's speech,
wondering what he's going to do next.

Tell Chef there'll be no changes.

The Master was just feeling his way.
He'll learn.

- Yes, sir.
- Thank you, Skullion.

- ( Music starts)
- Very nasty speech that was, sir.

Yes, Skullion.

Sir Cathcart D'eath wouldn't have liked it,
would he?

No, indeed, he'd be appalled.

He wouldn't like to see the college
going to the dogs, sir, would he?

Everything is all right, Skullion.

Now go.

Yes, sir.

Thank you, sir.

Well done, old boy.

Whoa, whoa.

Whoa.

- Good afternoon, Sir Cathcart.
- Skullion?

You old rascal.

What've you done to your eye?
Been in the wars?

Yes, sir.

Nice bit of flesh.

This?

Or that?

- This, sir.
- Mmm.

Past it, poor bugger.

Tough titty. You're for cat meat.

What do you want, you old bugger?

Racing tips? Not a usual day.

Ahem. lt's a rather private matter, sir.

Bog off, eh? See you for sundowners.

l've got to have
a word with old Skullion, here.

- What's the matter?
- lt's about the new Master, sir.

- Oh, canting hypocrite, ain't he?
- Yeah.

We were in college together, you know.
Butcher's boy, we called him.

Trumping arse then, trumping arse now.

Only got where he did
because he married money and a title.

What's he done now?

lt's, er... He's changing the college, sir.
Wants to fill it with scholars.

lf l had my way, l'd kick every scholar out
and put in some athletes,

run the place properly.

Tell you what, Skullion -
fruit of experience.

A man can learn more
between the thighs of a good woman

than in any college.

Ain't l right?

Well, l wouldn't really know about that, sir.

Oh.

Well, what did you really come for,
you old bugger?

- lt's not for me, sir. lt's for the college.
- Mmm.

You've got influence,
you and the other Old Porterhusians.

lf they knew how he was destroying
the college, they'd put a stop to it.

You have a touching faith, Skullion.

But we'll deal with that tit-head.

Tell the Dean,
my Rolls outside the college gates,

1800 hours tomorrow.

Knew you would, sir. Thank you.

And put this on Peculiar Practice,
Newmarket, 40 to 1 , in the 3:30.

- And...Skullion...
- Yes, sir?

You did right to tell me.

Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.

Ask Cook to give you a cup of tea
before you leave.

Thank you, sir.

Porterhouse! Porterhouse!

To live and die in Porterhouse

Tea pot, tea cosy, sugar basin, spoons.

Er, milk jug. You do take milk, do you?

- Yes.
- What?

- Yes.
- Ah.

Good. So many people take lemon
these days, especially the Chinese.

Oh, yes.

Now, then, toasting fork, crumpets,

butter, salt...

No, not salt. They're your crumpets, boy,
you toast them.

l will sit down by the fire
and you can tell me your little problems.

Professor Siblington spoke to me of it
but l didn't catch much.

- l'm deaf, you know.
- l know.

- What?
- l know.

Yes. Now, nothing you say
can possibly shock me.

l've been solacing young men all my life.

- lt's terribly embarrassing.
- You'll have to speak up.

Just a minute, l've got a useful thingummy
here that l use for confessions.

- (Feedback)
- (Very loudly) Now, tell me your problems.

Everything will be treated
in the strictest confidence.

Now, what is all this about?

- Self-abuse?
- lt's not self-abuse!

lt's not self-abuse!

l've developed a terrible fixation
on my bedder.

Oh, good!

(Zipser) This morbid, hideous urge.

When she pushes against...

- Who is it?
- Bloody old Zipser.

When she squeezes
the bag on the hoover,

oh, it's as if l'm driven by a demon.

l feel l have to take hold of her,
possess her.

- (Cheering)
- (Chaplain) Don't despair, young man.

(Cheering)

Give her one!

There is a simple answer.
Au pairs, language students.

Remember what Rupert Brooke said.

''There is some corner of a foreign field
that is forever England.''

(Cheering)

Find yourself a nice French girl.

Or a Swede.

Southern Europeans tend to hairiness,
l'm told.

(Jeering)

And one piece of advice
l always give my men.

Never conjugate without a protective.

Shh!!!

Porterhouse...

- Come on!
- Come on, Zipser!

To live and die in Porterhouse

(Bell tolling)

- Nine o'clock, Mr Skullion.
- Yes. Time for College Council, Walter.

You take charge here.

Anyone calls, you just say
Mr Skullion's stepped out for a bit.

- Are we finally here?
- Where's the Chaplain?

He's coming.
Now, gentlemen, please remember -

this is our chance to preserve College -
we must stay firm and stand united.

Evening, sir.

Evening, sir. Gentlemen.

- Evening, Skullion.
- Evening, sir.

Porterhouse, Porterhouse

To live and die in Porterhouse

Porterhouse, Porterhouse

To live and die in Porterhouse

Dives in omnia

So, here you are.
Five minutes late already.

Perhaps this is one reason why
the college affairs are in such a chaos.

l believe l left them in very good order.

- Master, this meeting is not constitutional.
- No agenda has been issued.

(Master) May we cut
the absurd preliminaries and get on?

(Master) Order, gentlemen.

(lndistinct raises voices)

(Master) Gentlemen,
l have to tell you that today,

my colleague the Bursar
and l inspected the accounts.

l've called you together to inform you,
that, not to put too fine a point on it,

Porterhouse is bankrupt.

- Bankrupt?
- The suggestion is absurd!

Not at all, Dean, the figures are here,
the Bursar can confirm them.

Now, gentlemen, will you sit down?

My task must be to put matters right
at once.

So here are three proposals
to be implemented immediately.

Proposals may only be made in writing
at three days' notice.

- Standing orders state it quite clearly.
- Exemplem habemus.

There is only one rule for committees -
cut the cackle and get on with business.

- Proposal one.
- (Uproar)

Will you chatter later?
l have to leave in 15 minutes.

Unlike you, l am a busy man.

Proposal one, eliminate waste.

This costly practice of dining in Hall
will be abolished.

We'll replace it with a self-service canteen
run by an outside caterer.

Self-service?

(Dean) Ours is the best high table
in Cambridge!

No outside caterer could sustain
the standard of Porterhouse High Table.

lt's world famous!

High Table is divisive and will be abolished.

High Table is a fundamental feature
of College life.

(Distorted) Our Feast is in the statutes!

- We have the best chef in the university.
- The cuisine is world famous!

Proposal two,
improve academic standards.

l gather they've fallen considerably
since 1939.

l understand there was a particularly poor
intake of Fellows that year.

l came in 1939.

Exactly. Henceforth, Porterhouse
will admit candidates on academic merit

and that alone.

That poses insuperable problems.

lf that is your resignation, l accept it.

(Master) This will require an expansion -
a new building, Lady Mary Hall.

We therefore
we begin an appeal immediately.

That would totally change
the character of College.

The character of the college, Dean,
is bankruptcy, financial and otherwise.

ln any case, we need it for proposal three.

Admission of women.

Women?

- Women?
- ln Porterhouse?

Heard that! Heard it! Splendid idea.

Revoltingly unhygienic.

Lady Mary insists as a matter of justice
and l am forced to agree.

You, maybe,

but many of us are here precisely in order
not to be forced to agree with women.

Here...

- (Master) Yes, Dean, you wished to speak?
- (Dean coughing)

Come on, Dean.

Come on.

(Coughing)

Oh, dear, Dean.
Not a Porterhouse Blue, l trust?

- lt's a betrayal...
- Believe me, Dean, these proposals

will transform the college.

At, you might say, a stroke.

Poor taste, poor taste.

Now, may l count on your full support?

l, for one, am adamantly opposed.
Doubtless l speak for the Dean.

- And l, too.
- Chaplain?

Sugar in mine, please.

- Bursar?
- The position is desperate.

- What?
- But l accept the sense of the meeting.

Ah! Quite what l expected.

Then l have but one course.

l resign as Master of Porterhouse.

He's going. (Chuckles)

The bugger's going!

- (Clattering)
- Ooh!

Well, of course, we shall miss you, Master.

But not much.

However, let me tell you
how l shall proceed.

My letter will go tomorrow explaining
my reasons to the Prime Minister.

- What are your reasons, Master?
- l must protect my own position.

l cannot be Master of a college
that takes unqualified candidates

in exchange for bribes under the guise
of an endowment fund.

l cannot be party to
a major academic scandal.

l know nothing of any bribes.

Oh, yes - l have the facts and figures here,

ready to send to the Prime Minister,
who will pass them on to the University,

not to mention
the Director of Public Prosecutions.

Do continue your discussion, gentlemen.

lf you should wish to accept my proposals,
totally unconditionally,

l can see you for five minutes
after lunch tomorrow.

Thank you, gentlemen. Good evening.

He's beaten them.

The bugger's beaten them.

Oh...

Cuh!

That, l believe, is what is popularly known
as getting us over a barrel.

- What are these bribes?
- l blame you, Bursar!

You told him about
the endowment subscriptions.

You told me to make the disastrous
financial position quite clear!

You ass, Bursar,
you supply-siding monetarist ass!

Gentlemen! Gentlemen!

We must not become divided!

That is precisely what he wants.

To live and die in Porterhouse

(Birdsong, bell tolling)

(Bell echoing)

(Door opening)

Well, well, Mr Zipser.

You don't usually get up this early.

Yes, it's only seven.
l thought you didn't come till eight?

You know me, love.
l can come any time l want to.

You must be feeling better, then.

Yes. Yes, l am.

Blessed mac.

Here, love, be a gent. Give us a hand.

No, it's stuck round the front, love.

Ah...

Ooh! l say, Mr Zipser, are you quite sure?

l always thought you were a nice boy but...

- Ooh! Ooh!
- Oh!

Oh, oooh!

- (Moans)
- Ahhh!

Sorry, Mrs Biggs,
l've got to go to breakfast.

Ah, Mr Zipser!
Could you spare a moment, sir?

Er, what is it?

Just a little matter
that might interest you, sir,

something that might help you
with your research, you might say.

l've got an urgent appointment.
Will later do?

Yes, later will do, Mr Zipser.

Later will do.

Good morning!

Buenos dias.

Come stai?

- Hello. Erm...

- Are you a student here?
- Hey?

Are you a foreign student
at the language school?

My name is Monika,
l am 19, l am from Sweden.

l'm here in Cambridge
to learn very good English.

You speak it very well.

Actually, l'm a language expert myself.

Erm, how about some extra tuition?

- Hey?
- Extra tuition?

Smorgas-borg, you and me.

My name is Monika, l am 19.

l go in there to learn more English.

Ah. When do you finish?

Er, six, half past, PM.

- l'll see you after, then.
- See you after.

- Yes, see you after.
- See you after.

See you after.

- All yours, sir.
- Yes, thank you.

- Scarf, sir.
- Oh.

Thank you.

Well, what can we do you for?

Erm, just a trim.

What about a shampoo and singe, sir?
Very good for the hair.

Er, no, thank you. Just a trim.

- With the University, are we, sir?
- Yes, that's right.

Get a lot of academics here.
One gentleman comes three times a week.

Very famous don. Says he gets
all his best ideas in my chair.

- Really? Tell me something.
- Yes, sir?

Do you have any protection?

- Are you threatening me?
- No, l mean, gentleman's protectives.

You know - johnnies.

- l'd like five packets.
- Oh, yeah?

Five?

No, l've got a Catholic landlord,
won't let me stock 'em.

Mind you, there's no money
in French letters.

Now they've got those dispensing
machines in every gents in town.

ls that so?

- That's enough, thank you.
- l've only started!

That's perfect. lt's just how l want it.

(Man) l'll be out in a minute.

(Tap running)

(Fruit machine bleeping)

Another of the same.

- Are you sure, sir?
- Quite sure, sir.

Only you seem to have had
a heavy lunch-time session already.

- Been on a romantic quest.
- Oh.

Machine in the toilet - you know.

- What about it?
- lt's empty. lt's...

- utterly empty.
- lt's always empty.

- l fill it up, blokes like you empty it.
- lt's got my money in it.

Oh, yeah. How do l know it's your money?

How do l know you're not just trying it on?

l can't try it on, l haven't got it yet.

Look, why don't you try the suppliers?
They guarantee complete satisfaction.

My word, that's...

marvellous.

Very good service.

- Yeah, they're just down the road.
- How very convenient.

Well, mind how you go.

l will. l always take every precaution.

Hello?

Well, sir?

l've just come from
the public house up the road

er, and thingy dispenser's empty,
it's run right out.

The Anchor? Very well, sir,
hang on a moment.

The Anchor, The Anchor...

The Anchor. There we go.

Mm, that's it.

Four gross.

That's quite a lot.
That should keep me going.

- That's the usual order.
- ls it?

- Fine.
- Here you are.

OK.

Sign here.

- Sign? Really?
- Yep.

Thank you.

Hello! Me again!

Come on, we're closed.

- But l brought the precautions!
- Why don't you get along?

You've had enough to drink, haven't you?

Well, that certainly is true.

ln a body like this?
ls it really necessary?

Doesn't it look obsequious?

(Dean) He wants humble pie,
he shall get it.

We must show him we're of one mind,
don't you agree, Bursar?

- Oh, absolutely.
- A black day in the history of College.

- Look at it - beautiful in its ancient glory.
- lt will remain so.

Supposing he withdraws his resignation,
insists on publishing his accusations?

We won't argue, just tell him
what he wants to hear.

Gentlemen, all we're doing is buying time.

(Bell ringing)

- The Master is available, l trust?
- So, gentlemen,

l see you are all here.

l can grant you a second.

Well? You have something important
to tell me?

- Yes, Master, we have.
- Tu peux rester, Héléne.

We have thought about our last meeting,

reconsidered our opposition and would like
you to remain Master of Porterhouse.

Well, well, well.

And that vote of confidence is supported
by all of you, without exception?

So, you accept, without reservation,
my three proposals?

College economies, qualified scholars,
female undergraduates?

- Naturally, we have private reservations...
- But in the interests of College...

We accept them all unreservedly.

Well, thank you, gentlemen.

l shall consider what you tell me

and let you know my decision
at the next College Council.

Shall we say same time next week?

College Council meets on the first Thurs...

ldeal, Master.

- You will now withdraw your resignation?
- And your letter to the Prime Minister?

l will give you my decision then, when
you have proved your continued goodwill.

Thank you, gentlemen. Merci, Héléne.

(Chuckles)

- The man's determined to abuse us!
- Never fear, Praelector.

He'll rue the day
he became Master of Porterhouse.

(Chaplain) How extraordinary!
lsn't that young Zipser?

What is all that?

Presumably the fruits of his researches.

Come here, sir.

- Me, sir?
- Yes, you, sir.

What's the matter? Are you drunk?

l'm pissed as a fart but ready to perform.

(Laughs)

How dare you!

You're gated! For a week.

Do you understand me?

Gated? l'm afraid not.

Oh, l found that foreigner.
What a goer, eh?

You are confined to College. You will report
to me every night and every morning.

lf you commit any other misdemeanours,
you will be sent down.

l got them, like you told me.

- The protectives!
- Go to your room at once, sir!

That is the kind of young man
the Master intends to fill College with.

To victory, Mary!

The reform of Porterhouse,
the advancement of learning.

The coming of women.

Just so.

Do you know, the Fellows
really crawled to me, Mary.

You could say l've got them
by the short and curlies.

l sometimes think the odour of
the butcher's shop clings to you still.

But do be careful, Godber -
that Dean is very devious.

Oh, he's a bigot
and a Neanderthal,

with the persistence of bigotry
and the cunning of ignorance.

But the others are coming round!
l have the Bursar.

- Creepy little man.
- Let's have him to lunch on Friday.

lnvite him if you must.

l'm off to the Samaritans.

Remember - they're probably
only buying time.

Gated!

Gated!

lt's a tragedy.

Of tragic proportions.

(Laughs uproariously)

Here you are, Dr Messmer,
there's your parcel.

Mind how you go, it says handle with care.

Ooh!

Mind how you go out there, sir,
because it's very slippery tonight.

That's it.

There you are, Mr Skullion, on duty at last.

l've sent several messages
asking you to come and see me.

- l take it they arrived?
- Oh, yes, Master.

Then why didn't you come?

Well, l've been rather busy, sir, with the
servants being rather unsettled just now.

You know - worrying about their jobs.

Mr Skullion...

Skullion, sir.

Am l or am l not Master of Porterhouse?

So l understand, sir.

So your first duty is to me, isn't it?

Your second, to the college servants.

At the risk of being impertinent, sir...

l do think l know my duties.

l have been here 45 years,
that's longer than anyone -

the Dean, the Praelector, anyone.

ln fact, l remember when
you were just an undergraduate, sir.

Yes, and you were rude then
but l'm not talking about ancient history.

And we have traditions
that go back long before you or me.

A way of doing things.

l've served seven Masters before you, sir.

l respected them

and they respected me.

You won't be here much longer
if you take that tone with me.

- lt ain't right to change things.
- They have to change.

The Fellows recognise that
and you'll do the same or go.

Now take that to the Bursar.

And it goes now, not later.

ls that clear, Mr Skullion?

Yes, sir.

Not Mr Skullion.

Skullion, sir.

As you would know
if you was a gentleman.

Porterhouse! Porterhouse!

To live and die in Porterhouse!

Dives in omnia

Porterhouse, in Porterhouse

Dives in omnia

Bene edamus

Bene bibamus

Epulas semper concelebramus

Quod imperat regina

Nil impediat doctrina

Sed choro sonoro

Dives in omnia

Sed choro sonoro

Dives in omnia

Collegium, Collegium acclamus

Porterhouse! Porterhouse!

To live and die in Porterhouse!

Dives in omnia

Porterhouse, in Porterhouse

Dives in omnia