Original subtitles

Milko?

Oh, good morning, Mrs. Peel, do come in.

I warn you, I came collecting for a Christmas charity,

and I intend to separate you from at least 50 Guineas.

Double it if you'll make the voce a little more sotto.

Just an octave or two.

Oh?

Oh. Someone began his Christmas celebrations early.

Coffee. Black. - Thank you.

Whose party was it? - Eh?

The party last night. Anyone I know?

It wasn't a party. Just a quiet dinner with an old friend.

Blond, brunette or redhead?

Shiny pink. Rear Admiral Keevers. Bald as a baby's elbow.

It was just a quiet dinner, eh?

Wild thyme. - What?

Thyme, with a ''th''. Sugar.

Wonder if they make, a silencer for these things.

Well, Rear Admiral or not, he certainly led you in an orgy of excesses.

No such luck. The old boy is 73 years old.

We had half a bottle of claret, a glass of port, and that was all.

Well, it can't be overwork.

Steed, what's wrong?

It's all right. It's nothing. - Don't suffer in silence. Tell me what's wrong.

It's nothing. I just haven't been sleeping very well the past week or so.

I've been having nightmares.

You don't have a fever. Must be your past catching up on you.

If it were that, that would be fun.

No, this is terrifying. It's always the same nightmare, with variations.

What kind of nightmare?

A Christmas nightmare.

Seasonal.

I'm standing in a forest of Christmas trees.

And I find a present addressed to me.

I open it, and it is me. It's a photograph of myself.

And the dream finally ends by bumping into Santa Claus.

And he's a particularly nasty type.

Oh, it's a simple case of childhood regression,

dating back to the time that you first discovered there really isn't a Father Christmas.

Oh, dear, isn't there?

Funny, though.

It's funny how Freddy came into my dream last night.

Who's Freddy? - Freddy Marshall.

Well it isn't surprising, I suppose. He's been on my mind a good deal lately.

Oh? Why?

Secrets have been getting into the wrong hands.

And you think he may be responsible?

I'm certain he's responsible, because the secrets that have been leaking out

have only been entrusted to two people, him and me. I know isn't me.

So no alternative but to suspect him.

I wish there were. We're old friends. We've trained together.

We've been in a lot of tight spots together.

In my dream last night he was as dead as a doornail.

Your subconscious killed him off.

You don't like this assignment, so in your dream you end it by having him killed.

Maybe you're right. - I should forget all about it.

Is this Freddy Marshall? - Yes. Why?

Have you seen the morning papers?

No.

Steed?

Steed? Wake up.

Glad to see you took my advice. Put your feet up.

I've decided to spoil you. Caviar, quail's eggs, asparagus.

Your favourite cheese. We could even open a bottle of champagne.

Freddy Marshal had some sort of brain storm. I phoned the doctor in charge.

He died of a brain storm.

A stroke you mean, some kind of a seizure.

A nervous breakdown, exaggerated to enormous proportions,

until the brain couldn't take it any more,

so that it, metaphorically speaking, exploded.

Well, that's how the doctor described it.

Well, it's over now, so you'd much better forget it.

Look, I brought your Christmas cards. Well, don't you want to open them?

Give me a hand, will you? - I love opening other people's cards.

See who hasn't forgotten me this time.

''Come fly with me, Amy.''

''Chocks away! Carlotta.'' Yes, Carlotta...

''Best wishes for the future, Cathy.''

Mrs. Gayle. How nice of her to remember me.

What can she be doing in Fort Knox?

''Longing for you, lrma.''

Oh! Charming Irma. I can remember a terrible time in Monte Carlo when...

Who is Boofums?

The postmistress at Angar.

Much more of this and I shall lose my appetite.

How would you like to come away with me for Christmas?

House party I've been invited to. You could come along, too.

Whose party? - Brandon Storey's.

The publisher? Didn't think you knew him? - I don't, well, hardly at all.

The invitation came from a mutual friend, Jeremy Wade.

That's the fellow that deals in old prints and manuscripts.

Is he still after your first edition?

It would do you good. - Be delighted.

Good, that's settled, then. You'll call for me?

Ah, yes, yes, about 10.

Steed, isn't it time you bought a new car?

I'm loyal to my old loves.

Yes, I know.

Wouldn't it be kinder to retire her to the British Museum?

The quality of a lady's performance is not measured by her years.

We go right, I think.

No, left. It's just around the next bend.

I thought you hadn't been here before.

I haven't.

Steed.

Good afternoon. I'm Mrs. Peel, and this is Mr. Steed.

Good afternoon, sir, madame.

You are expected.

Please, come in. - Thank you.

Brandon Storey's a great authority on Dickens.

I expect you would like to retire to your rooms after your journey.

If you will accompany me.

Well, Jeremy, what do you think now? Mrs. Peel has just arrived.

And she's brought Steed with her.

Astonishing. Martin, she actually did invite him.

Never had any doubt that she would, Jeremy. That part of it was easy.

The real difficulties lie ahead.

You're really going to go on with it?

Of course. The whole experiment is pointless unless it's carried to a logical conclusion. Sherry?

Oh, come along now, Jeremy.

You said yourself that this would make a fascinating exercise.

And when Janice gets here... - Janice?

Yes, Janice Crane.

She's a real find, Jeremy.

Her powers make you and me look like fumbling beginners.

Should make the breakthrough tonight.

Tonight?

But I thought you said...

I understood that when Mrs. Peel... - Forget Mrs. Peel now, Jeremy.

Concentrate on Steed.

Come in.

Well, how do you like it?

It isn't exactly the bridal suite, but it's very well appointed.

Mr. Storey seems very single-minded.

He's obsessive about the works of Dickens. Tries to recreate the atmosphere in the books.

They seem to have given me "The Old Curiosity Shop".

You know, I've always rather fancied myself in one of these.

So have I. - Hm?

I mean, I have too.

It's opulent. Just the thing for... for old-fashioned nightmares.

I thought we came down here to forget about those. - So did I.

But that festive display down there was straight out of my nightmare.

Oh, well. I suppose I'll just have to learn to live with it.

My newly acquired psychic power.

I say, I wonder if I'm a reincarnation of someone.

Like whom for instance?

Oh, I don't know. Gengis Khan. Napoleon.

How about Rasputin?

Seriously though, Steed. I mean, the Christmas decorations, how could you have known?

I knew about Freddy Marshall.

Yes.

Yes, you did.

Not here yet, then?

Janice Crane. - Mr. Trasker?

Thank you, Jenkins. She'll be here. Don't worry.

Ah, my dear Mrs. Peel.

A Merry Christmas, my dear. A Merrier Christmas.

And you sir, must be John Steed. Delighted, dear fellow, delighted.

Have a good run-down? Capital, excellent.

Feel like a drink now, eh? Of course you do.

Do you know anyone else here?

Never mind. Time for introductions later.

Good to make your acquaintance.

Seasonal compliments, Mr. Steed. And to you, my dear.

Merry Christmas. - You certainly go in for a traditional Christmas.

Dickens, old man, Dickens. Nothing quite like a Dickensian Christmas.

Try to keep on the pattern he set. Splendid time of the year.

Renew old friendships, make new ones. The turkey, the puddings, the holly.

The mistletoe.

Admirable custom.

I admire your display. Adds the right touch, don't you think?

Did you design it yourself? - Emma!

Jeremy, how nice to see you. - How are you?

You're looking radiant. - I'll leave you in good hands.

Jeremy, I'd like you to meet John Steed. Jeremy Wade.

How do you do? - Mr. Steed.

I trust you found your way down here all right? - Instinctively.

Jeremy, could l have a word?

May I introduce. Martin Trasker, this is Mrs. Peel, John Steed.

How do you do? - How do you do?

I'm sorry to butt in, Jeremy, but you did promise to show me those first editions.

Sorry to drag him away, but we may not have another chance later.

Go ahead.

Well, feeling better?

Christmas, splendid time of year. Renew old friendships.

Make new ones.

Hello. - Oh...

l don't see why we...

Phase 2, Jeremy. We agreed that we'd progress to phase 2.

It's a bit hard on this Steed fellow, isn't it?

Rumour has it he's a pretty tough nut. Can take it.

Take it? I thought you said there was nothing harmful about this.

I thought you said this chap Freddie Marshall... - Died of natural causes.

It's a complete coincidence he died just when he did.

Are you sure about that?

Told you. Made a thorough investigation.

Yes, done a great deal of globe-trotting in my time. Asia, Far East...

Looking for first editions of Dickens, no doubt.

Good afternoon, Brandon. Nice to see you again.

Oh, good afternoon. May I introduce Mrs. Peel, John Steed, Mr...?

Tessel. Dr. Felix Tessel. How do you do? - How do you do?

Doctor, yes, of course, how silly of me to forget. We met... where did we meet?

Oh, it was a long time ago.

Mrs. Peel, I've read some of your articles on psychoanalysis, they're very good, for the lay public.

I take it you practice psychoanalysis.

Yes, I do.

Tired, Mr. Steed?

Oh, I beg your pardon.

Get you another drink. - Thank you.

Devilish odd. - What?

That chap Tessel, claims he knows me.

I swear I never saw him before.

Interesting case history. All this.

The preoccupation with one man.

Bordering on obsessive compulsion, don't you think?

Still, I believe that Story's collection of Dickensiana is without parallel.

Is it true he has some of the original manuscripts here?

I wouldn't know. Jeremy would.

Jeremy Wade. Just through here.

Jeremy, I...

Something wrong?

That's funny. I, I was sure I saw him come in here.

Well, he isn't in here.

Tired.

Irresistibly tired.

Lids are heavy.

Must sleep, sleep.

It was a long drive down here today.

It was a long drive down here today.

Do excuse me. - Certainly.

Then you are tired, Mr. Steed.

I am, rather. I'll get my head down for an hour or so and I'll be as fresh as a daisy.

Do forgive me, my dear.

You look concerned.

It's not like him. Oh, I shouldn't worry.

Nothing like a good sleep, to refresh the mind.

I must have met her before. - Janice Crane? But you've never met her.

I must have. It's the only logical explanation.

Well, how do you account for the ride in the tumbrel? - Yes.

There I am. Dressed in the rig of the period.

There's Madame Guillotine.

Suddenly, swish!

No head, no bowler.

Sydney Carton. He was the chap from A Tale of Two Cities.

''It's a far, far better thing I do.''

He had a one-way ticket to the guillotine.

That's it. I saw this.

It registered. So I dreamt about it.

You don't usually sleep in the afternoons.

I suddenly felt tired, compelled to sleep.

Compelled?

I suppose there is a compulsion to sleep when one's tired.

Steed, these nightmares began with Freddie Marshall's death.

And Marshall was betraying secrets. Well, what kind of secrets?

Oh, I know you can't tell me... - But we've been over all that before, I told you.

When did you tell me? - I didn't, did I?

I thought I told someone, you were the only person I'd confide in.

Oh, well, must have dreamt it.

Nearing the final phase now, that will be your responsibility, Janice.

But first, how to soften him up.

Soften him up?

Like a military operation, Jeremy.

The last wave of shock troops before the final assault.

Don't you think we're really going a bit too far?

What do you propose?

A party game. A small charade.

An entertainment will be suggested. A piece of trickery.

An experiment in mind reading. It's perfect, don't you see?

We'll approach Steed. Get him to cooperate, actively.

In front of the whole party? - Well, who's to know the difference?

An amusing diversion.

For everyone except Steed.

I don't like it.

You agreed to see the experiment through to the end.

Look, why don't we tell Steed what we're doing?

My dear Jeremy, that would spoil the whole thing, don't you see?

When we disclose our findings, there must be no loopholes.

If Steed knew what was going on,

the sceptics could say that the whole thing was just a trick, a cheap trick.

Can't have that, now, can we?

But tonight. We finish it tonight.

Yes. We finish it tonight.

All right, then.

Is he indispensable? - No, not now that you're here.

Why? - I just think I should keep an eye on him.

Too many anxieties.

We don't want everything ruined now, when we're so close.

You may be right, yes.

Yes, it won't do any harm to... observe him.

Come in.

Excuse me, sir.

With Mr. Storey's compliments, sir. - Thank you.

What is it, anyway? - It's for the party tonight.

The theme is Dickens. Guess what I got.

Nicholas Nickleby. - No.

Tiny Tim? - No.

Oliver Twist.

My word, you have filled out.

Let's see what you got. I hope it's Little Nell.

A Tale of Two Cities.

Sydney Carton.

Ah, Mr. Steed, refreshed anew eh, after your little rest?

Yes, thank you.

Treading a stately measure takes quite a bit of puff.

Charming, my dear, quite charming. - Thank you.

And you, Mr. Steed, a good fit, I trust?

Might have been made for me. - Excellent, excellent.

Well, dear fellow, the festive board awaits.

Eat, drink, and be merry, but don't lose your head, eh?

It certainly is a festive board. Lead me to the punch.

Ah.

It's a fine party, Jenkins - Thank you, madam.

The fancy dress, who chose to put who into what?

Just the luck of the draw, madame.

Sir. - Thank you.

I'll bet my bowl of gruel it wasn't that.

These dreams of yours, the way the pattern keeps fitting.

You don't think it was just a psychic phenomenon?

No.

Do you? Well, do you?

No other explanation.

Oh, Dr. Tessel. A hypothetical case.

A patient has a recurring dream.

A terrifying one.

When he wakes, he finds that the fantasy of his dream is becoming a fact.

So he tells you.

Well, one cannot produce one's dreams as evidence.

Perhaps it works the other way around for this man.

He sees the facts, the actuality,

then tells you that he's dreamt about them.

You mean he deliberately lies.

Oh, not deliberately. Such a man might not be responsible for his actions.

A hypothetical case, you say?

Yes.

That's fortunate.

Why? - Such a man could be dangerous.

Clearly he's on the verge of a complete mental breakdown.

Please, sir.

Please, sir. I want some more.

I never was more convinced of anything in my life. That boy will be hung.

I'm glad to see you got the Christmas spirit at last. - At last?

You've had that hooded fruit bat expression on,

keeping your beady eye on me as though I was going to scuttle down warren.

Marley's ghost.

I hear you're not feeling very well, Steed? - This preoccupation with my health.

Excuse my chains.

I feel as if I were surrounded by the beneficiaries of an insurance policy.

Do I look as though I need care and attention?

On the contrary, you're looking very debonair this evening.

I better press home my advantage. May I?

Of course. - Excuse us.

Are you ready?

Martin, I think we ought to reconsider... - Just do as we agreed, Jeremy.

That's all.

Steed? - Hm?

Have you thought of getting expert advice on your dreams?

It's not worth bothering about.

Well, I think it is. I think a chat with a good psychoanalyst...

Psychoanalyst? Just cause I've had a few...

Do you reverse? - Of course.

Just cause I've had a few dreams you think I'm going potty.

I didn't say that. - You're implying it.

I implied nothing of the kind. All I suggest is that you went and got some advice...

I'm very happy to meet you again.

Again? I think you must be mistaken. We've never met before.

Janice, I...

Ah, I see you've met Mr. Steed. You're just in time, my dear.

A few minutes to midnight, soon it will be Christmas day.

The perfect moment to show us your party piece.

No, really, I can't.

Oh, nonsense. Of course, you must, Janice, please.

Very well. Perhaps you'd care to help me, Mr. Steed?

Of course. - You seem very much in sympathy.

I am? I mean, I am.

Very well, Martin.

Marvellous. Ladies and gentlemen.

Ladies and gentlemen.

I'm very happy to be able to tell you that we have with us tonight Miss Janice Crane.

And she has very kindly consented to amuse us all tonight with her party "piece de resistance".

Well, it's very kind of Miss Crane to provide a little entertainment, isn't it?

Yes, of course it is. She has agreed to...

agreed to...

She has agreed to let you challenge her extrasensory perception.

Her occult powers.

Now, we must have complete silence.

Complete silence, if you please.

Thank you.

First may I introduce Mr. Steed who has kindly volunteered to assist me.

Mr. Steed will vouch for the fact that until a few moments ago, we'd never met before.

Isn't that so, Mr. Steed? - Absolutely, yes.

Now, would you go amongst the audience, take any item you wish,

concentrate on it, and I will endeavour to identify it.

Will you identify this, please?

A diary. - Correct, and inside?

A telephone number. Your telephone number, Mr. Steed.

This ought to fix her.

Another object.

It's square. No, rectangular.

There are several...

A pack of cards.

That's right. Now, which particular card?

Uh, one of the court cards.

A queen, a queen of diamonds.

And the next, a black card.

You must help me, you must concentrate.

Help me.

Ace of spades.

And the next,

A red card.

Concentrate.

Help me.

You're slipping, you're letting go.

Concentrate. Let your mind see nothing but the card.

You must help me, you must concentrate.

You're slipping, you're letting go.

Let your mind see nothing but the card.

Open your mind to me.

Relax.

You're fighting me, don't fight me.

Relax.

Open your mind to me.

Relax.

I'm so sorry.

It's Christmas, everybody. A Merry Christmas!

I do apologize, I ruined your act.

Don't worry. There's always another time.

Are you all right? - I think so. What happened?

I'll tell you later. Jeremy!

Jeremy. What is going on?

Going on? I don't know what you mean.

That was no game just now and you know it.

I didn't think it would go this far.

An experiment. A psychic experiment. That's what they said.

Who are they?

l can't explain now.

Later. - Where?

Upstairs. Hall of Great Expectations.

Martin. Jeremy Wade is planning to betray us.

Jeremy?

Jeremy?

Steed.

Steed.

My dear, I haven't wished you a Merry Christmas!

Jeremy Wade is dead.

I've got a little present for you. - Did you hear what I said?

Hope you like it. It isn't to write with, oh no.

Point in the desired direction, press the little clip.

And bingo! Full of tear gas.

Well, that was a fine party.

Jeremy wanted to tell me something about what's going on here.

What's happening to you.

My Christmas stocking!

I must hang up my Christmas stocking.

Oh, it's a delightful stocking, a splendid stocking.

Good night, my dear.

Marvellous piece of knitting.

There never was such a stocking.

Toes wriggling.

That's all I can get an image of. Toes wriggling in soft woollen socks.

Resisting.

Be all right once he's asleep.

If he sleeps.

Don't worry. He'll sleep.

Dr. Tessel, I must see you, it's Steed.

Oh? What about him?

That complete mental breakdown you spoke of. Well, it's happening to him.

And somebody's deliberately making it happen.

Oh, come now, don't you think you're dramatizing just a bit too much?

No, come with me.

Look.

It was there just a few moments ago.

What was there?

The body of Jeremy Wade.

Dead? In this chair?

It is Steed who's had a complete mental breakdown?

I didn't imagine it. It was there.

Mrs. Peel, it's rather late, if you don't mind.

Do you believe in telepathy, doctor? - I don't disbelieve.

The mind is still virtually unexplored. But until I have concrete evidence...

I think there is evidence.

Here in this house.

Steed's been having nightmares, bad nightmares.

I think they were specially created for him.

As for that game we saw this evening...

Really, I don't see how... - To break him down.

Telepathy if it exists is merely the exchange of thoughts between two individuals.

Or a group. Jeremy said ''they''.

Supposing a group of people, each of them telepathic, thought as one.

Wouldn't that increase their powers?

Nothing you've said to me so far is feasible.

And you've overlooked one important aspect.

Why should anyone wish to direct such a fantastic operation against Steed?

Because of the secrets he carries in his mind.

Mrs. Peel, this discussion has gone on long enou...

Drugs. To make him sleep. I must warn Steed.

That won't be necessary, Mrs. Peel.

We wouldn't want Steed to lose a good night's sleep, would we?

Oh, the grand old Duke of York,

he had 10,000 men.

He marched them up to the top of the hill, - Thought you might like a small nightcap, sir.

That's extremely charming of you. Thank you very much.

and he marched them down again.

Not at all, sir. Good night.

When they were up, they were up. Good night.

And when they were down, they were down.

And when they were only half way up,

They were neither up nor down.

Quite extraordinarily tuneful.

I suggest you sit down, Mrs. Peel. - So you're involved.

I'd rather you didn't discuss that business.

I'd rather you didn't even think about it.

Oh, the grand old Duke of York,

He had 10,000 men,

He marched them up to the top of the hill,

He's drifting off.

Sleeping.

He's asleep.

Good. Now we feed him our questions.

Ready? - Yes.

Right. Get up!

Wake up, you've been drugged.

I haven't, you know. I poured it all down the sink.

There was enough there to knock out a herd of buffalo.

And help them get at my thoughts.

I'll give you two-o.

And I suspected it as soon as I saw those Christmas trees down there.

Green grow the rushes-o. What is your two-o?

So I thought I'd get into their thoughts.

Two, two,the Lilly white boys, clothed them all in green-ho-ho.

It was Tessel's idea. - Tessel?

Security intelligence. Psychiatric division.

Where is he now by the way?

Green grow the rushes...

I knocked him out. - Oh!

War office won't like that. - Well, why didn't you tell me?

What is your three-o? - Why did you keep me in the dark?

Green grow the rushes-o. - And will you please stop singing!

I must go on, they might be overhearing us now.

What is your tri-o?

What made you invite me down here in the first place?

Oh, I don't know. When I got my invitation, the thought just...

... entered my head.

Two, two, the Lilly white boys, Clothed all in green-ho-ho.

One is one, and all alone, and ever more shall be so.

You're being got at.

I couldn't let you know. It might have given the game away.

What is your four-o? Green grow the rushes-o.

I'll lay you four-o.

Did it work? Did you find out about your dream?

Janice Crane had something to do with it.

She was stark naked with a splinter in her foot.

What? - Well, it was my dream, you know.

Naked. With a splinter in her foot.

Two, two, Lilly white boys, clothed all in green-ho-ho.

One is one, and all alone and ever more shall be so.

There's something wrong.

Keep trying. We can't fail now.

Here comes a candle

to light you to bed.

It's a bit uncomfortable, isn't it?

Someone poking around in one's inmost thoughts.

And you can put that in your crystal ball.

Here comes a chopper

to chop off your head.

Danger. I feel danger.

The mirror room.

Steed very close. The mirror room.

Storey. Brandon Storey.

You mustn't cry.

It's that pen you gave me. It broke.

Oh, yeah.

See what l mean?

Out of your mind.

What? - They are.

Oh. I'll be able to get a good night's sleep again.

Sweet dreams.

Come on, then. Giddy-up, Prancer. Giddy-up.

Subtitles by: rick@peoplesguidetothecosmos.com