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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)

Ch�teau 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