Original subtitles

MAN: Rosebud, move over!

(GROWLING)

Ow! That's my ruddy foot, you old bitch!

(COW MOOING)

You done that on purpose.

- Monsieur LeBlanc? - Yeah?

I'm Detective Sergeant Jim Bergerac from the Bureau des Étrangers.

- You reported a theft? - Took you long enough.

- Yeah. Some livestock? - I phoned last Thursday.

Bureau des Étrangers? Well, I'm no stranger. I've lived here all my life.

Yeah, well, the regular boy's a bit shorthanded, and as I was in the district...

- Still, if you wanna wait... - I've already waited.

Yeah. Well, if you wouldn't mind showing me where, I mean the place.

(COCK CROWING)

Rosebud there trod on my foot.

JIM: Two chickens? LEBLANC: My best layers.

You are reporting the disappearance of two chickens to the States Police?

I pay my rates. Same as any rich fly-by-night down St Helier.

Uh, you don't think perhaps some animal might have done it?

An animal which fancies potatoes with his chickens, eh?

And I'm not the first.

How do I look?

Not too keen on the top,

but the bottom half is fine by me.

Smash hit at the dinner party. Women will go wild over your socks.

As far as I can gather, it's one of Charlie's all-male dos.

Yeah, top layer of Jersey Masons.

Row upon row of trouserless businessmen all discussing their latest deals.

No, Charlie says it has something to do with charity.

Businessmen love charity. They can claim it against tax.

Well, I'm sorry you can't come. I'm even sorrier that I gotta go.

- Stop saying sorry. - Sorry.

- Mr Ripley. - Everything secure?

Completely, Mr Ripley.

Hutchinson outside in the garden with the dog?

He radioed in 10 minutes ago. Everything seems fine.

Seems? You keep your eyes skinned.

- Of course, Mr Ripley. - Both of you.

(WHIMPERING)

Shut up.

Hello.

- Oh, hello, Jim. Good of you to make the effort. - Hello, Charlie.

- Who's coming? - Oh, just some friends.

You know Nigel Ripley, don't you?

- Nigel Ripley? Is he coming? - Shush, Jim.

- What's he got to do with charity? - Nothing was ever proved.

- But you know as well as I do... - The court didn't agree with you.

But the man's a gangster. An arms dealer who'll sell to anyone.

Nigel Ripley is a respected, respectable citizen, a pillar. I play golf with him every week.

And as of last week, he's joining me on my States Law and Order Committee.

This has got nothing to do with charity, has it? It's just politics.

You've got me here on some shabby manoeuvre.

- Now, Jim... - Charlie, I'm not being used.

- Nigel. - Charlie.

Come in, come in.

(CHARLIE LAUGHS)

I think you know my ex-son-in-law, Jim Bergerac, don't you?

Detective Sergeant to you.

Yes, we've met.

Come on now, Jim. Don't let's keep our other guest waiting.

House guest as a matter of fact, a very prominent backbench MP,

an old friend of mine, Sir Geoff Newton.

By the way, Nigel, he mentioned that he'd met you a while back?

- Yes, that's true. - Is that the Newton?

The one that's always on television talking about the breakdown of law and order?

Aye, that's right. They've got a terrible problem on the mainland, Jim.

We don't realise over here how big it is.

- Mayhem, violence, drugs. - Terrible.

As a matter of fact, that's why he's over here.

To find out why we are so successful in combating crime here in Jersey.

(CREAKING)

(ALL LAUGHING)

Well, it sounds as if you run a very tight ship here on Jersey.

- Firm, but fair. - Well, we do have ou failures.

Jim's being too modest.

As a matter of fact, we've got just about the lowest crime rate of anywhere in the UK.

You can walk the streets at night without fear, believe me.

I admire you policemen. Nobody's got a tougher job.

You stay out of line and press, television and politicians

come down on you like a ton of bricks.

But would they go out on the streets at night? Would they face the criminals and thugs?

More likely they'e sat at home, whining about police brutality, eh?

- Port. - A drink for our policeman.

- Well... - No, I'm on the orange juice.

- It's all right. You're not on duty. - No, I told you, I don't drink.

- Taken the pledge? You a chapel man? - Not specially, no.

(NEWTON CHUCKLES)

I am, born and bred. Backbone of the nation, we chapel folk, eh?

(LAUGHING)

Aye.

(CHARLIE CLEARS THROAT)

Well, Jim...

Charlie?

As you know, Nigel here and myself are both on the States Law and Order Committee.

Well, that is a tribute to your ambition, Charlie.

We like to feel that we have a very close relationship with you and the police force.

So when Geoff here, a person well known for his brave stand on law and order, eh, Geoff,

- said he was coming over to Jersey... - Be honest, Charlie.

You invited me over here. I was very glad to come.

Yes, of course.

Well, the point is, Jim,

we felt that Geoff ought to see some police work on the ground, so to speak,

with a really efficient police force.

So I had a word with Barney, in strictest confidence, of course,

and he has agreed to allow Sir Geoffrey to accompany you

on some of your work around the island.

I shall be very honoured, Jim.

- You've arrived. - Am I late or are you early?

The Chief Inspector wants to see you immediately. He's got a visitor.

- Royalty? - It's Sir Geoffrey Newton, actually.

I've seen him on the television lots of times. My husband's a great admirer of his.

The Chief Inspector is waiting.

I was just on the verge of cracking the great north coast chicken rustling case.

I'm sure Constable Goddard can deal with that.

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

Come in.

You wanted to see me, Chief Inspector?

- Yes, Segeant. This is Sir Geoffrey... - It's all right.

- We've met already, haven't we, Jim? - Yes, Sir Geoffrey.

Please sit down. No standing on ceremony.

Sit down, Jim.

Now first, I must confess that I misled you last night.

My reason for being on Jersey was a sort of cover.

By the way, you ex-father-in-law knows nothing about this.

Now then, Her Majesty's government, of which I'm a sort of unofficial representative,

has given its blessing to an extremely vital business deal.

Now, contracts are going to be signed

for export orders which will secure thousands of jobs.

Now the country needs them, the unemployed need them.

But, for various reasons, there's got to be no publicity about the deal.

So we're gonna sign the contracts here in Jersey.

On Friday, a distinguished foreign VIP will land at the airport,

be escorted to a secure building where he will sign the necessary documents

and then return to the airport.

The whole operation will take less than two hours

and be undertaken in conditions of maximum security.

What exactly is this deal?

Well, even the Chief Inspector here doesn't know that.

- Where's it gonna be signed? - Well, you'll find out in time.

- The fewer people who know, the better. - Who's the VIP?

(CHUCKLING)

Again, a security classification.

- Mine is not to reason why, eh? - Exactly right.

NEWTON: Now, unfortunately, there's a fly in the ointment.

Thee's a vey lage, unpleasant fly.

The country we're dealing with is in a very sensitive part of the world.

Now, intelligence reports indicate

that a man has been hired to stop this deal going through.

Mick Davies. One of our own, unfortunately. Ex-SAS.

We believe that he's already here in Jersey.

Now, he's dangerous, and he's armed.

Looks pretty impressive to me.

So, essentially, what you want me to do by next Friday

is get together a team to prevent this unknown VIP

being assassinated by Mick Davies here?

- In a nutshell. - I understand that.

- Why me? - Because...

I had a feeling for you, Jim.

They always look so honest on television, don't they?

- What? - Politicians.

Well, Big Chief wants a meeting at 2:00. Could you get in touch with Sanderson, Atkins...

- CID? - Yeah, and the other heads of departments,

all in the briefing room for 2:00, okay?

- Something appears to be happening. - Something is happening.

- Hey, I'm dying for a cup of coffee. - The machine has been mended.

Nigel Ripley called. Such a nice man. My husband and I met him once.

- What did he want? - Well, he was very upset.

That's funny. He was all right last night. I had dinner with him at Charlie Hungerford's.

Oh. Well, apparently somebody broke into his house while he was with you.

No. Fort Knox?

- I don't think it's a laughing matter, is it? - No. Certainly is not. I'll go round there.

Oh, and another fame phoned. I put him through to...

(DOOR CLOSES)

...DC Goddard.

''On The Late Massacre in Quabus, by John Milton.

''Avenge, O Lord, thy slaughtered saints,

''whose bones lie scattered on the Afric mountains hot.

''Forget not, in thy book record their groans

''who were thy sheep and in their ancient cot.''

Are you seriously telling me that someone took the trouble

to break through all your high-security alarms, cameras, dogs,

and opened your safe to hand-deliver you a poem by John Milton?

You saw the lock forced, the alarms bypassed.

- Are you taking this seriously, Bergerac? - No, hang about, hang about.

The Late Massacre In Quabus?

''Avenge, O Lord, thy slaughtered saints,

''whose bones lie scattered on the Afric mountains hot.''

Perhaps you could tell me what that means.

- Me? - Yes.

Well, obviously, the gentleman who left you this had something very specific in mind.

Perhaps we ought to talk about your line of business.

Get out, Simpson. I'll talk to you later.

Now, don't you start on all that again, Bergerac.

It's already been through the courts once and you and your people got egg all over your faces.

My life has been threatened.

Something big's about to go down, innit?

Some sort of a deal.

- What do you mean? - That's why you're upset, isn't it?

- I don't know what you're talking about. - This Friday.

Listen, Bergerac, I'm a citizen of Jersey,

and I'm demanding police protection. I'm demanding security.

Security? You're drowning in security.

JIM: Avenge, O Lord, thy slaughtered saints,

whose bones lie scattered

on the Afric mountains hot,

You're very fortunate.

I caught him just before he went in to luncheon at High Table.

- Who? - My brother, professor of English Literature.

- Oh, the Cambridge man. - Leeds, actually.

He tells me that in 1655,

the Catholic Italians invaded Protestant Piedmont. That's a province in northern Italy.

- Yeah, in the Alps, yeah. - Yes.

And they massacred all the Protestants.

Men, women, children. It caused outrage thoughout Protestant Europe,

in England especially.

- A massacre? - Hmm.

Milton wrote the poem in memory of them.

The title is, actually, On The Late Massacre in Piedmont.

Not Quabus.

And my brother tells me the poem itself has been altered.

Apparently, Milton wrote,

''On the Alpine mountains cold,''

not the Afric, hot.

Quabus is in North Africa of course.

- Of course. - Mmm.

This is getting crazy.

That's our man, Michael Brian Davies.

He served with distinction in the SAS.

He was suspected of robbing a bank while on active service in Northern Ireland,

and he was dismissed.

He served as a mercenary fo seveal yeas in the Middle East,

then he returned home to London

where he is recently reported to have offered his services freelance.

Yeah, all right, Terry, light, please.

Well, any questions?

- Do you want to add anything? - Yes. This man is dangerous.

He's trained in techniques of infiltration and assassination.

It is believed he is currently in Jersey living undercover and armed.

Copies of his photograph will be given to every member of the force

and it's gonna be published in the paper and, of course, shown on television.

All guest houses, places of residence must be checked out

and any lead, any lead however trivial, must be followed up, all right?

And if he is located, he is not to be approached.

No heroics, please, from anyone. Just radio in, all right?

Chris, we want a 24-hour watch on Nigel Ripley's place.

You know it? They can liaise with the security forces there.

As for the rest of it, all we can say for the moment is

a big security operation is underway for Friday.

You'll be given the details close to the date.

In the meantime, find Davies and be careful. Thank you.

- Very competently dealt with. - Thank you.

I head about the break-in at Ripley's mansion.

So you agree with my decision to post some men there?

- This is your operation, Jim. - Yeah.

- Sir Geoffrey? - Yeah?

Just a word.

This meeting is at Ripley's, isn't it?

Have you any ideas about catching Davies?

- Yeah. I'm going to London tomorrow. - London?

- Just for the day. - But why London?

Well, the file you gave me had a list of his acquaintances.

If I'm going to catch him, I need to find out what sort of man he is.

Well, that'll only leave you Thursday.

Well, Thursday'll have to do, won't it?

MAN: Name and business, please.

James Bergerac. I got an appointment with Mr Fowler.

I haven't come to interrogate you.

My firm has always had the best possible relations with the police.

I'm sure you have. I've just come over from Jersey to talk to you,

off the record, about Mick Davies.

He's trouble. Always has been, always will.

Can I sit down?

- Mmm. - Thank you.

I understand you and he were mercenaries together.

Mercenaries? I was a professional soldier seconded from the British Army.

- Oh, sorry. - Offered my customers security, just as I do today.

Well, of course.

The Sultan of Quabus, leastwise that's what he was before he was overthrown,

he was my client.

Mick was with me then. Still a good soldier when he first came out of the Sahara, was Mick.

Hired him fresh from Northern Ireland and his little adventures in, uh, banking.

You know what ruined Davies?

Books and Arabs. Crazy about the Arabs was Davies when he first came out.

Spoke their language, ate their filthy food, slept on their mud floors.

Led a regular column of them, he did, in their civil war,

right back behind the guerilla lines.

- Were you with him then? - I was back at base.

What did you mean about books?

Seen it with too many squaddies. Out on their own, isolated.

Start to think for themselves, get theories, read books. It's the desert sun.

- Gets into their brains. - What sort of books?

I don't know. Anything, history, politics.

- Poetry? - Oh, yeah, poetry.

Nothing but bloody poetry with Mick.

While the Arabs knelt down and did their Koran, Mick used to spout poetry.

Shrieked it out! Right nutcase.

So, what happened?

Mick and his Arabs were caught out in the open by the revolutionaries.

Started to get the worst of it so withdrew to a friendly village.

The revolutionaries closed in and then summat went wrong.

- What? - I wasn't there remember?

Most of Mick's village and his friends were slaughtered.

It was the turning point in the civil war.

But Davies managed to survive, yeah?

Not through no wish of his own. He's been rotten ever since. No respect.

- You haven't employed him, have you? - Unemployable.

After the revolution,

the government that took over after the civil war...

Oh, you mean Major Sahid and all his merry men,

including one Aziz El-Mazri, also known as Ahmed.

- Ahmed? - Yeah, you should know about Ahmed.

They say that the terrorists that he controls were responsible

for the shooting of those three policemen in Whitehall last year.

You remember?

Of course, Mick Davies and Ahmed are acquainted from way back.

How?

Ahmed was the leader of the guerillas that massacred Mick's village.

Won his spurs there, did Ahmed. Been in business ever since.

You turned a bit white, friend.

Oh, thank you.

- Excuse me, Charlie. - Of course, of course.

From the Bureau, I suppose, is it?

I'm afraid I've got to go, Charlie. You know, business.

Of course, of course.

Been no major breakthrough in the Davies affair, has there?

- Mum's the word, Charlie. - (LAUGHS) Of course.

- Excuse me. - Of course.

Thank you very much for coming in so late, Sir Geoffrey. He insisted I contact you.

- That's all right. Where is he? - In the interrogation room.

Right.

Well, I'm told there's something you want to know, Jim.

Yes.

Right, thanks very much, Chief Inspector. Thank you.

Right.

I would like to know why I'm expected to provide protection

for a man who last year had three police officers shot in London.

Ahmed.

Policemen are trained to obey orders, Jim, not to ask questions.

Don't talk to me like that.

I don't like this business any more than you do.

And don't, please don't try that ''Politics is a dirty business'' crap with me.

I remember you on television, last year, after the shooting.

Making your law and order speech, weren't you?

Vengeance for the fallen dead?

It almost made you a minister, didn't it?

- Perhaps this Friday's business will. - That's enough, Detective Sergeant.

I can see I'm gonna have to spell out a few political realities to you.

A, B, C.

Individuals can afford to pursue private vendettas.

- Like Davies? - Governments can't.

Not responsible governments.

Situations change, realities change.

Those who were once our enemies become our friends.

- You mean oil money talks? - Not entirely.

Major Sahid is changing his international stance,

as a Foreign Office partner says it.

- We intend to be in there with our trade. - Our arms.

In response for some unofficial trade, there is to be an unofficial arms deal.

Ahmed is Major Sahid's unofficial representative,

and Ripley's ours.

- Trade is this nation's lifeblood. - You are aiding and abetting a murderer.

That's enough. Now you listen to me!

You are a trained officer, a government servant. You obey orders.

You get Davies, and by getting Davies, you protect Ahmed, you understand?

At last, a politician speaking the truth. Thank you very much.

- You going to sleep some time? - Yeah, yeah, darling.

Thinking about your work?

Yes, I am thinking about my work.

Do you want to talk?

Can't. I'm in possession of what is known as an official secret.

I can see why they want it kept secret, too.

Makes me wonder...

- What? - What the hell is really going on in the world.

Don't look at me like that, please. Makes me feel...

Dirty, dirty. I've been through half the farmyards on the north coast.

And he must be a geedy bugger because he takes a plant full of potatoes with every chicken.

- Does what? - Potatoes with his chicken.

That's Davies.

Give me that.

Dupree, Laroche, Vinsenne. They're all farmers up in the north of the island.

That is where Davies is, around Greve de Lecq. Living rough as he was trained to do.

He's been telling me where he is.

I think I've got him.

Anyone in?

(GUN COcKING)

Anyone in? Don't move.

Don't shoot. This machine pistol sprews out 20 rounds a second.

I know exactly where you are, to the nearest inch.

You ain't got the foggiest where I am.

I'm Detective Sergeant James Bergerac fom the Jesey States Police.

I am not armed. I repeat, I am not armed.

I've come to talk with you...Mick.

The friendly approach.

I know all about you and your attempt on Ahmed tomorrow. I think you are an honourable man.

I've come to try and dissuade you.

If you know about me, then you know I won't be dissuaded.

- We can't talk like this. - You stay just where you are.

I'm not out to kill another poor bloody foot soldier like you.

I'm after bigger game.

The ones that pull strings and give orders.

Like those responsible for the massacre at Quabus?

Don't let's talk about me. Let's talk about you.

How come you can bear to work in this dump?

- Well, Jersey's not a... - It's disgusting!

I've been in some rubbish tips in my time, but this place stinks.

It's golf courses and Rolls-Royces and tax exiles, all waving their Union Jacks.

You know how rotten this whole deal is that's going down tomorrow, don't you?

- Don't ya? - Yes!

An honourable man.

Come on, Mr Policeman. Out of there.

Slowly and backwards.

It's time you and me had a talk.

- Has he reported in yet? - No.

- It's knocking on a bit. - Yeah, right.

They was the wildest, purest people I ever knew.

Starving, most of them. Covered in rags. But they were alive.

They had courage, generosity, humour, knowledge.

Not knowledge like they teach you at school, but real knowledge.

Out there I learnt to think for myself.

Can you imagine what it's like suddenly discovering you've got a mind?

Thoughts, imagination.

Hey, Mick.

Must've been a bit of a let-down coming back to England.

No, because I didn't choose to live among you sort of English, Mr Policeman.

Oh, no. I lived among the ordinary, decent English.

Out there in their streets, in their factories and in their fields.

They've still got thei decency, their warmth and humanity, however poor they might be.

Cromwell.

That's what made his time so important.

Because the poor, the ordinary English, for once in their life actually stood up

and said to their betters, ''We don't need you. We shall rule our own country in our own way!''

And they did. And England blossomed.

''A nation not slow and dull, but of a quick, ingenious and piercing spirit,

''acute to invent, subtle and sinewy to discourse,

''not beneath the reach of any point the highest that human capacity can soar to.

''Methinks I see in my mind a noble and puissant nation

''rousing herself like a strong man after sleep, shaking her invincible locks.''

Who said that?

John Milton.

You should feed your mind, Mr Policeman.

(DOGS BARKING)

Time I was going.

See you tomorrow.

- You found him? - Ha! He found me.

- That way. - Over here!

(PHONE RINGING)

There you are, Geoff. Where have you been?

Down at the Bureau, studying your policing methods.

Oh, Davies, you mean. Damn terrorist. Have they got a lead on him yet?

- Accounting, actually. - Eh?

You know, Charlie, finances. I spent hours down there going through your financial structure.

It's the key to the success of Jersey's police force, I reckon.

- Oh? - Oh, yes.

- It's all down to the lead given by you committee. - Is it?

Oh! Yes, of course.

Mind you, I sometimes wonder if people here really appreciate the work that we do.

- Scotch? - Yeah.

- What are you staring at? - Your drink.

My drink?

Just remembering that alcohol has its comforts as well as its horrors.

- No sign? - No.

Well, at least everything looks very efficient.

It's time we were going. Our friend is due in half an hour.

All right, gentlemen, to the airport.

Ahmed expects the best.

- He went to Harrow and Oxford. - Lucky old Ahmed.

It's landed. He's taxiing towards you now.

All right, gentlemen. Stand by, please.

- Good afternoon. - Would you get down from there, please?

- What a lovely English day. - NEWTON: Welcome to Britain, Mr Ahmed.

Sir Geoffrey Newton, on behalf of Her Majesty's government.

Can we dispense with all that, please? Let's get in the car.

We're going round the back roads to introduce an element of unpedictability.

You security seems very professional.

You should take that as a compliment, Jim, coming from Mr Ahmed.

I think Detective Bergerac is remembering other places, other times.

Right.

A drink?

- All right? - Yeah.

Okay.

- Mr El-Mazri. - Mr Ripley.

Delighted to have you here. Please come through to the right here and meet my associates.

RIPLEY: Gentlemen, this is Mr El-Mazri.

- This is Pierre Lapite from our Paris office. - How do you do?

(SPEAKING FRENCH)

And here, John Summer, works with me, of course, in London.

Pleased to meet you.

- Delighted to have you here. - Nice to be here, thank you.

(LOCK SNAPS)

- Barry, check the perimeter. - Again?

Yes.

- Thank you very much. - Thank you.

(POPPING)

Gentlemen, a toast. To the continued friendship between Britain and Quabus.

(EXPLOSION)

Everybody down!

(ALARMS SOUNDING)

Just stay where you are.

Don't move, Jim. Don't want your blood on my hands.

Just open the door.

On your feet. Weapons.

(GUNS THUDDING)

Over there, with the others.

I think everyone knows why I'm here.

Out of my way, soldier.

No. I obey orders.

Then you're a fool. You should've learnt to think for yourself.

You're protecting the wrong man.

Come on.

Hey!

One move

and I shoot.

- Shoot him. - Hold your fire!

- Bergerac... - Shut up.

(SOFTLY) Oh, for Christ's sake, Barry. Don't do that.

Shoot him.

Hold it!

(GUNSHOT)

Leave him! Leave him to me.

No.

Mick.

- Nice shooting. - I panicked.

- I obeyed orders. - The key, see,

learn to think for your bloody self.

- I'll get you an ambulance. - No.

Nice place to die, this.

"I am fire and air. My other elements I give to baser life."

- Why Ripley rather than Ahmed? - Ahmed?

Just another foot soldier, happens to be on the other side.

No, it's bastards like Ripley you gotta get.

Back there in Quabus, he was their arms supplier.

Only I found out later he was supplying the other side.

That's why the... Massacre...

Vengeance is nothing...

- But... - Justice...

- Well done, Jim. - I don't want any of that stuff.

I would like to know the reason why.

I'll see you back at the office.

- Unfortunate business. - For some.

Well, at least the contract's safe.

Why do I get the feeling that you knew exactly what was happening all the time?

What?

That's it, isn't it?

You got someone to hire Davies, didn't you? Triple S maybe?

Yeah, that'll be favourite. You got Triple S Security in London to hire Davies,

put them onto Ripley's whereabouts, because you knew he'd be looking for revenge, didn't you?

Because you and Ripley were connected, weren't you? Somehow you were linked.

What if I go to London, and dig way, way back in Companies House, eh?

You'll find nothing there.

All right, Jim. I'll speak straight to you. We're both practical men.

Off the record of course.

Quite bluntly, I had no choice.

- Ripley and I had an import-export business. - over for arms dealing, was it?

I was the front man in London raising the finance, and he was the man in the field.

He was a real go-getter. I had no control over him.

He was the one who started arming Major Sahid off his own bat,

- when he found out the way things were going. - Lucky he's not here to contradict you, eh?

Well, that was a long time ago. I go into politics,

- and now I'm just about to join the cabinet. - On a law and order ticket.

Exactly. And Ripley started leaning on me.

I got him this order, and he still leant on me.

Now, you're not some idealist, some nutter like Davies.

I can help you in your career.

I'm a powerful man, Jim.

I'm typing my report. There's no need for you to stay.

Your daughter, uh, Kim.

She's a very lovely girl.

Charlie goes on about he all the time. She's away at school in England, isn't she?

They're very vulnerable at that age.

(DOOR OPENS)

They're in here, Charlie.

Well, I head it on the radio. You got him!

It's a terrible thing about poor old Nigel, of course,

but you got the bastard that did it, that's the main thing!

You got him and no messing. How about that for a first class bit of police work, eh, Geoffrey?

Teach some of your lads on the mainland a thing or two, eh? No danger.

- First class, Charlie. First class! - Well, come on, Jim.

I've got some champagne being sent round,

you can have a celebratory glass of orange juice and we'll all...

We'll all go down...

What's got into him?

DAVIES: Methinks I see in my mind a noble and puissant nation

rousing herself like a strong man after sleep, shaking her invincible locks.

Methinks I see her as an eagle mewing her mighty young,

and kindling her undazzled eyes at the full midday beam.

Avenge, O Lord, thy slaughtered saints.