All language subtitles for Mapp & Lucia Season 2, Episode 3 « Lady Bountiful » (itv 1986 UK) (ENG SUB ENG).en

(peaceful orchestral music)

- Shopping in Tilling is
becoming well-nigh impossible.

- Because we're all trying to
avoid each other, that's why.

Oh, do sit down.

- Oh don't try to be sarcastic, Godiva,

old friends as we are.

Benjy had no more to drink than usual.

- That's not the story I heard.

- Lucia was sitting in the
garden with Benjy's hand

on her knee, I saw it with my own eyes.

- Well we all know the
estoir of that evening.

- How?

- Withers via Foljambe
via Grosvenor via Cadman.

Little mistique as you used to call them.

- Anyhow, Benjy would
never have dared do that

unless she had encouraged
him but that's her nature.

- Not that I've noticed.

- No? What about all
those Italian sailors?

She simply cannot leave men alone.

- You mean she's no better
than the pride of Poona?

- Godiva dear, old friends--
- Old friends though we are.

Oh yes, we all know about the
pride of Poona and your Benjy

singing Queen of my Heart
all the way back to Grebe.

Didn't you know that Constable Norris

is a cousin of Cadman's?

- Benjy has impressed
himself very properly to me

and there's an end of the matter.

- But it's not, Elizabeth.

Well we'd all be settling down again

if you weren't always
carping and criticizing.

- Ah, carp and criticize,
I can't believe my ears.

- Well just because Lucia
slapped £1,000 for a few

new stops for the organ, you
have to think of some way

of getting the better of her.
- Nonsense.

- Strawberries will be
in before we know it

and no one dares give
a summer bridge party

because we're all afraid
of future ructions.

- As far as I'm concerned,
I prefer not to see people

encourage my Benjy boy to drink too much.

- By the way, how is Benjy?

I forgot to ask.

- So I noticed, dear.

Better, thanks, off to golf today.

- So we'll have to rely on Lucia.

She's the only one who
can do anything for us.

- I hope you won't encourage
Lucia to think that

the Mapp-Flints would ever
set foot in Mallards again.

That would only lead to
disappointment, au reservoir.

- You see all my new stops, Georgie?

- Yes indeedio, aren't they?

- It will give the new
sound that Tilling deserves.

- Oh, yes.

- And an electric blowing apparatus.

We won't have to rely on old Farrington.

- Yes, he is rather apt to
run out of steam early on,

isn't he?

All this is due to your generosity.

- Of course, I would like to be the

first person to play it in public.

I mean, at a church service.

- Well I'm sure you could arrange that.

I mean, I'm sure that could be arranged.

- Did you know that I have transcribed the

Moonlight Sonata for the organ?

- Have you?

My word, you've been busy.

- It sounds quite marvelous.

- Really?

- I um, just happen to have
my arrangement with me.

- Fancy.

- Your um, function is to play the pedals.

- The pedals?

- Just these, slow notes and the bass.

♫ Pom, pah pom

Not difficult, try it.

- Nothing happening.

- (gasps) Oh.

I haven't pulled out any
pedal stops. (chuckles)

(dissonant organ notes)

- Oh!

The sound that Tilling
deserves. (chuckles)

- My fault.

- Ah.
- Now.

With one hand I shall play
the triplets on the choir

and with the other, the
solo tune on the Vox Humana.

- Oh, well.

(Lucia counts in Italian)

("Moonlight Sonata" by
Ludwig van Beethoven)

- That tuba.

- Oh, yes.

Tiresome tuba.

- Again?

- Right.

("Moonlight Sonata" by
Ludwig van Beethoven)

- Listen.

(moans)

So heartbroken.

Another key to Beethoven's soul.

A lovely contralto tone.

Like Clara Bart.

(dissonant notes)

Georgie.

Do try not to put your
foot on two pedals at once.

- Sorry.

- Just pull out the
stops to the left there

in case I need them.

You always have to look
ahead when playing the organ.

- Yes, I can see that.

(dissonant organ chord)

- Oh, really.

- Good morning, Miss
Lucas and Mr. Pillson.

Ah, the organ.

That's a bonnie wee instrument, ye ken?

- Quite an improvement, wouldn't you say?

- Yes now the stops are in.

- A munificence, your £1,000 what with,

lutes and philactor and all the hossels.

- Just a little contribution to the

beauty of church services, padre.

- Tilling is indeed in your debt.

(Lucia speaks Italian)

- And um, have you thought of
some sort of dedication party?

- I have.

Mr. Bullock will be awry
with pleasure at putting

his fingers to it.

- Perhaps Mrs. Lucas, as
donor of the new stops,

could be persuaded to wet
the baby's head, so to speak.

With some rendering of a
piece of her own choice.

- A bonnie idea.

Tilling would be very
disappointed if she didn't.

- And an idea has occurred to me, um,

well, you know how I hate
farce and ostentation.

- Oh, aye.

- But I do think Tilling would enjoy

a little pomp and ceremony.

-[Vicar] Aye.

- And um, I was thinking.

After the confirmation
ceremony next month--

-[Vicar] The laying on of hands, aye.

- The Mayor might like to
escort the Bishop here.

The scarlet robes, mace,

all the that's suitable
for such an occasion.

- You paint the picture well,
bonnie sight it would be.

- Yes, with yourself, as escort of course.

-[Vicar] Yes, yes go on.

- Of course, I can't
suggest it myself but um,

you as Vicar might.

- Aye, why not?

- And between the confirmation
ceremony in the morning

and the dedication in the
afternoon, I would be delighted

to offer luncheon to the
Bishop, the Mayor and Mayoress

and our dear padre.

- I'll write to the Bishop this minute.

- Thank you.

- That's settled, then.

- And you will play the pedals for me.

- Tum te tum, hurrah.

- Again.

(jaunty orchestral music)
(muffled background chatter)

- Not willingly, Mr. Bullock, believe me,

but all my friends and the
padre feel that as the donor,

I should run my hands
over the keys before you

officially show the paces
its full scope, the um,

tuba, the Vox Humana.

Excuse me.

- No it's just, I'm
not really very hungry.

- But Lucia hasn't agreed
to play the organ yet.

- Yes but she will, won't she?

- How do you know?

- Because it was her
idea in the first place.

I shall have to do those tiresome pedals.

- No, that is quite correct,
I used to own this house.

- May I ask what happened?

- My husband and I, Major Mapp-Flint,

that's M-A double-P hyphen F-L-I-N-T,

wanted to move out of the town

and put down fresh roots
in the wide-open spaces

so we bought a delightful
house called Grebe,

G-R-E-B-E,

on the marshes.

- My Lord Bishop.

What a pleasure and a privilege
to see you here today.

- Melton Mowbray, is it not?

- To your taste, I hope.

And what a charming and innocent ceremony.

The laying on of hands, the most moving--

- Cucumber salad.

- And to welcome you
again to the church to say

a few words of dedication to my organ.

- Your organ, Mrs. uh?

- Lucas.
- Lucas?

I understood from the Vicar
that it was a repair job.

- No. (giggles)

A little more than that,
quite a number of new stops.

The tubas, the Vox Humana,

the bellow is worked by electricity.

- Lucky bellows.

(Lucia giggles)

May I plead for another
glass of this delicious

barley water before I
return to my ministration?

- Of course, My Lord Bishop, allow me.

- They're all the same, my dear.

Wasting my time in the Lord's name.

- Of course, I only wear
it on special occasions

such as this.

Perhaps you have never seen one before.

- I don't suppose there are too many

in this part of the world.

- For my services to Tilling Hospital

and associated charities.

- Member of the British Empire.

- Bestowed on me by His Gracious Majesty.

- King George V!

- Thank you, Mr. And Mrs. Wyse.

- What department of the Tilling Gazette

do you represent, may I ask?

- Society and royal
engagements of a local nature.

- Oh.
- I see.

Quite a privilege.

- You know, think back as I may,

I don't recall have drunk
barley water before.

- Nondescript, isn't it?

- I'd rather not describe it
in the presence of a lady.

- I tell you what, try a
little turpentine with it.

- Never had turpentine before, either.

- It's alright, Benjy boy.

It's gin.

- Bless you up and down,
skin off your nose.

- Way-hay!

May I be queen of your
heart tonight. (giggles)

- So I've been persuaded.

Even your organist, padre,

insists that I start the ball rolling.

- Oh, it will be a grand sound.

- And um, the service to follow,

I think you'll agree, padre,
should not be too long.

- No, no no, no.

- Oh no, a few psalms perhaps such as,

I was glad when they said unto me.

- I know that one.

- And what about Vivaldi's Storm at Sea

to play us out, as the saying is?

- Don't know that one.

- Mm, difficult but not impossible.

A tone poem with the thunder on the pedals

and the lightning on the diochtin.

I've left a copy on the stand.

- Well if you'll nip back to
the cack then, Mr. Bullock,

you'll have a wee minute to keek at it.

- Excuse me.

- Storm at Sea.

Aye, just the thing.

(peaceful orchestral music)

- Dearly beloved.

Do not worry, this is not a sermon.

It is a simple dedication
to what I believe

is a very noble and deserving instrument.

We all know that Saint Cecilia
is the Patron Saint of music

and ipso facto of organs.

But here in the 20th century,

we must thank the donor, Mrs...

A distinguished citizeness of Tilling,

for her munificence.

So herewith, I dedicate this instrument

to the glory of God.

- And Mrs. Lucas.

- Will you rise?

In the name of the Father and of the Son,

and of the Holy Spirit.

Amen.

-[Congregation] Amen.

("Moonlight Sonata" by
Ludwig van Beethoven)

- Why on earth should
Mr. Bullock play that?

- I thought I recognized it.

- Don't believe it, it's not Bullock.

It's Lucia with her fingers tripping

slow triplets all over the place.

- It's that moonlit thing.

- Mapp, no!

This is a sacred edifice!

- Thought as much.

Georgie's toupee and
Lucia's ridiculous hat.

- Shh!

- We've been asked here

to listen to Lulu and Georgie practicing.

- Shh!

(dissonant organ note)
(Elizabeth chuckles)

- Beethoven never wrote that.

- Not so loud, girly!

(energetic organ music)
(muffled background chatter)

- Dear Lucia, how I enjoyed hearing

that sweet old tune you
played for us so often.

- Oh thank you, dear, I'm so glad.

- Some of your new stops a
little harsh in tone, perhaps.

- Really?

- No doubt they'll mellow,

after that deafening piece
that Mr. Bullock offered.

- Excuse me, I must have
a word with my Lord Bishop

before he hurries away.

- Goodbye, Vicar, thank you so much.

On your marks, get set, go!

(car starts)

- What a pity the Bishop had
to leave before the photograph.

- Ah yes indeed, but uh,

what a magnificent instrument, Mrs. Lucas.

- Of course, he must be
as busy as the rest of us.

- But not too busy in your case, I hope,

to become a member of the church council.

- Oh!

How you all work me.

Of course, I can refuse
nothing to help Tilly.

- Splendid.

- Now tell me, Mr. Mayor, what next?

The unemployed, often on my mind.

The hospital, you must spare
me half an hour sometime.

- Ah hospital, yes the
uh, the operating theater.

Sadly in need of a new one.

- Oh, the photographer from the Gazette!

Now, will you and the um,
the Mayoress stand here.

Right there, Mr. Mayor.

Padre, over here!

Now, em, now em, what about me?

Right here, in the middle.

- Where else?

(peaceful orchestral music)

- "Munificent citizeness,"
a whole column about her.

(speaks Italian)

"Mrs. Lucas speaks
Italian with the same ease

"and purity as her English.

"Her masterly arrangement
for organ of Beethoven's

"Moonlight Sonata" and a
photograph of that ridiculous hat.

- Very attractive.

You've...

You've punctured my poached egg.

- Coo-ee, Georgie!

You seen it, of course.

- I just happened to
chance upon a copy, yes.

- And?

- No mention at all of my
having played the pedals.

- Yes, I noticed that.

- Yes without the pedals
it would have been

a very thin performance.

Not that I mind for myself, of course.

What good does it do me to
have my name in a squalid

provincial rag?
- Yes, of course.

But she's getting grabby, Georgie.

- "Masterly" it said, what tosh!

She just played the triplets with one hand

and waved the air with the other.

- While you did the bass on the pedals?

- Exactly, giving it timbre!

- Mallards' her family home and
this my family market basket

I bought it the day before yesterday,

one of my more cherished heirlooms.

- A good wee photo of me,
did ye ken? (chuckles)

- No mention that you're
the Vicar of Tilly.

- Well you can't expect everything.

(bike bell rings)

(Lucia speaks Italian)

- Oh, how good of you all

to have rallied round me yesterday.

I was so worried it wouldn't be a success,

but I needn't have been,

with so many dear friends to back me up.

You must all come to
bridge this afternoon,

and delicious strawberries for
tea from your lovely garden,

Elizabeth. (chuckles)

Yes?
- Aye.

- Yes?
- Why not, dear?

- Yes? (giggles)

Four o'clock, then.

Come along, Georgie.

Au reservoir.

(strong winds)

- Girly.

Hell of a storm brewing.

- I was wondering where you'd got to.

- Oh, I stood up for a
bit hoping it would pass.

- In the club?
- Yes.

You heard the news?
- News? What news?

- News that Lucia has
been elected President

of the sports club.
- Sickening intelligence.

I'm not the least surprised.

- And she's paying for a new
operating theater for the

hospital as well as the
leveling of the sports ground.

- She's be playing football
for Tilly next week

in shorts and the jersey in
the Tilling colors and that hat

and then cutting people
up in the hospital.

(rumbling thunder)

- Good god!

- Benjy, Grebe isn't going
to be flooded again, is it?

- Could be, southwesterly gale.

- Madam, Sir, the sea's
broken through the bank

and it's halfway up the garden!

(energetic piano music)

(Lucia sings)

- Shh!

(Lucia sighs)

Lucia, you've been practicing
in private again, haven't you?

(Lucia speaks Italian)
(thunder cracks)

- Listen to that.
- Never mind, Georgie.

We're safe here.

- We should have been
playing Wagner, shouldn't we?

- How I enjoy our little
domestic evenings.

One night here, one
night (speaks Italian).

- Well, there wouldn't be much
point in your sitting here,

and me over at the cottage
night after night, would there?

- Solitary meals and playing solos.

- Lucia, I wonder if--

- Excuse me, madam, it is
the padre on the telephone.

Sounds urgent.

(thunder rumbles)

Mrs. Lucas is just coming, sir.

(Lucia speaks Italian)

- What's to do?

- Miss Lucas, I felt you
ought to know that our friends

the Mapp-Flints are more than a little

somewhat flooded out at Grebe.

- Seriously?
- Oh, yes and it's rising.

- Well, you must tell them to come here.

- We don't know what to do, of course,

there is the Traders Arms.

-[Lucia] No no no, certainly
not, they must come here!

I'll tell Cadman to
pick them up in center.

- Oh Mistress Lucas, you're
a good sweet Christian soul.

- With a fur rug and a hot water bottle.

Grosvenor, tell Cadman
to drive out to Grebe

and pick up the Mapp-Flints.

- With a fut rug and hot water bottle?

- Exactly.

At once!

(light piano music)

Georgie.

The Mapp-Flints.

- What about them?

- Flooded.

(thunder rumbles)

I've asked them here.

- Oh Lucia, you haven't.

- Georgino!

You know I welcome every opportunity

of being of service to the needy,

and I welcome the chance
of doing a kindness

to poor, dear Elizabeth.

Gino?

- Yes, I, I think I'd better
run back to the cottage

before the weather gets
any worse, excuse me.

- Promise to lunch and dine with me,

every day as long as they're here?

- We'll see about that, shall we?

(speaks Italian)

(bell rings)

(thunder rumbles)

- Yes, madam?

- Arrangements for the
Major and Mrs. Mapp-Flint.

- The best spare room, madam.

- No, Grosvenor, I think they would be

cozier on the second floor.

Don't you?

- Just as you say, madam.

- The bedroom overlooking the garden.

- Very good, madam.

- And that very, what um,

masculine room at the end of
the landing for the Major.

- The oak room, madam.

Very good, madam, and what about Withers?

- Oh!

I'll leave to you, Grosvenor.

Oh.

Will you explain to them
that I've gone to bed?

Storms always give me a headache.

-[Grosvenor] Very good, madam.

(playful orchestral music)

Good evening, madam.

Good evening, sir.

- Evening.

- Mrs. Lucas apologizes for
not being here in person,

but storms always bring
on a severe headache.

- I can quite believe it.

- So, where are we to pitch our tents?

- Madam is in the second-floor bedroom.

- The second floor?
- Yes, madam.

With a little sitting room
next door for your own use.

(Benjy clears his throat)

- Where are my quarters?

- Mrs. Lucas thought
you would like the room

at the end of the landing, this way, sir.

Madam.

- Oh, Elizabeth!

Good morning.

- Good morning, dear.

- Sorry, I was (speak Italian)
when you arrived last night.

Terrible headache in
spite of three cashay fav,

but I knew Grosvenor would look after you.

- Indeed she did, deliciously cozy.

Putting you out dreadfully, I'm afraid.

- Oh no, not an atom! (speaks Italian)

(Elizabeth speak French)

- I shall insist on your
staying here, upstairs,

until you can go back to a dry Grebe.

- Dear dear Lucia,

too good of you to take
in the poor homeless ones.

I was just indulging in
a might of nostalgia.

- Of course!

You and the Major must take
all your meals with me.

-[Elizabeth] So kind.

- Unless you would rather have
them upstairs in your dear

little suite, in which case
Grosvenor will bring up trays.

- Oh, surely too much trouble.

- Oh no, no not at all, one or the other.

- Very kind.

(Lucia sighs)

- Now it's the operating theater.

"The governor's accepted the
gift with deepest gratitude,"

there, I knew it, "invited
her to a seat on the board."

- Blasted rain!

It reminds me of the
worst floods in the Jumna.

No escape.

- The Tilling Gazette ought to keep

"munificent gift by Mrs. Lucas"
permanently set up in type.

- I don't much like being stuck
up here on the second floor.

Never even came up this far
when we used to live here.

Servants quarters, no?

Another thing, Lucia's staff
are not very efficient.

Found an enormous hole in
one of my socks yesterday.

- I quite believe it.

And your haddock at breakfast just now,

not quite all it should be?

- Delicious.

It's such a treat to get
decent meal after that garbage

we've been having at Grebe.

- Thank you, dear, we do our best.

- Another thing, with
Grosvenor and supper,

very sparing with the wine, I thought.

- Telephone again, that's the
third time since breakfast.

Probably the art institute
or the work house

inviting her to sit on the board.

- She better watch out for
splinters, then. (laughs)

- Oh, that cigar smell.

(faint ringing)

- Was that the front door, dear?

- No.

- Well you go and see who
it is, dear, I'll just uh,

I'll just wait for you to come back.

(peaceful piano music)

- The Mayor, madam.

- Good morning, Mr. Mayor.

- I hope I didn't disturb your muse.

- No no no, no just snatching
a few minutes of harmony

after breakfast as I usually do.

- Ah, well now look here, Mrs. Lucas.

This is the long and the short of it.

Mrs. Brook Comings is
resigning from the Town Council

owing to ill-health
and now the custom is--

- Oh!

I am sorry to hear that.

- Thank you.

Well the custom is that
if such a vacancy occurs

during the course of the year,
no fresh election shall be

held but the other members shall co-opt--

-[Lucia] A temporary member.

- (chuckles) I see you know our rules.

- Dear me, what a snub I
got over the last election,

but uh, nothing discourages me, Mr. Mayor.

I am still determined to serve Tilling.

- Yes um, so--

- So the uh, the long and short of it is?

- The long and the short of it is,

will you agree to be co-opted?

- I appreciate the offer, Mr. Mayor,

and I will certainly consider it.

- Well thank you very much,
I'm delighted to hear it.

- May I come in, dear?

(Lucia speaks Italian)

Oh my dear, sorry, no idea you were busy.

- Elizabeth, come all the way in, dear!

Mr. Mayor, you know Mrs.
Mapp-Flint, you must.

Such an old inhabitant of dear Tilling.

- Yes, of course.

- Dreadful floods again
out at the marshes.

- Indeed so I have heard.
- Oh, of course you have.

- Of course he has being the mayor.

- No, so I insisted on my
old friends the Mapp-Flints

staying here with me.

- Any port in a storm. (chuckles)

- Until the floods subside, of
course, Mallards House and I

will always be at the
service of our citizens.

- Yes, very gratifying but
now I really must get back

to the Town Hall.
- Oh allow me to show you out.

Mr. Mayor.
- Thank you.

Goodbye, Mrs. Mapp-Flint.
- Au revoir.

(telephone rings)

- It's all right, Foljambe,
I can take it, thank you.

Tilling 532.

- Georgino?
- Oh hello, Lucia.

- You'll never guess.
- Then I won't even try.

- (giggles) I wanted you
to be the first to know.

-[Georgie] I say, you sound very excited.

(Lucia speaks Italian)

- Hold on, wait a minute.

Georgie!

Georgie, the Mayor
himself, the Mayor himself!

And the town council have
co-opted me as a councilor

because Mrs. um, you know, has retired.

- Tell me more!

- I can't.
- Why not?

- You-know-who is
listening outside the door.

-[Georgie] Oh, typical.

- Arrivederci.

- Arri (sighs).

- Grosvenor!

- Oh!

Just on my way upstairs.

- Madam.

- Grosvenor, I've got to go out.

My coat and umbrella
at once and my new hat.

- But it's raining, mam!

- I know it is or I
shouldn't want my umbrella.

- Must be something very important, dear.

- I think so, I'm on my
way to the Town Hall.

- Complaining about something, dear?

- No, dear!

They've done me the honor of co-opting me.

- You?

- Mm!

- On the council?
- Yes!

Mrs. um, you know, has
retired because of ill-health.

Busy, though I am,

I felt it was my duty to fill the vacancy.

- Will you be needing the Rolls, mam?

- No no no no, I don't
think so, I shall walk.

It'll give a better
impression, don't you think?

- Quite possibly, dear.

- If I'm not back by half-past one, dear,

you and Benjy must start
luncheon without me.

Thank you, Grosvenor.

(upbeat orchestral music)

- Grosvenor!

This is from Mrs. Mapp-Flint and myself.

- Thank you very much, sir.

- Don't spend it all on--
- Get in, Benjy!

Thank you so much, Grosvenor, many thanks.

Lulu, dear.

How pleased you must be
to see the back of us.

A whole fortnight we've been here!

- A fortnight, is that all?

- Enough, I'm sure!

- I meant of course that the
time has simply flown by.

- Yes, dear, I was hoping
that's what you meant.

Goodbye!

- Goodbye.

- Goodbye, dear lady.
- Goodbye, Major Benjy.

Goodbye!

(sighs)

- Hurrah for one of our
quiet evenings again.

- This is a piece from The Mirror

about the new operating theater.

Pride of place, don't you think?

- Border of lace makes
it, don't you think?

- And this is an article
about me from the Gazette.

- I've always said that finger bowls

were entitled to doilies.

- Oh, dear.

This paste is really pasty.

- Doilies are entitled
to a border of lace.

Oh!

- What is it?

(speaks Italian)

- It got slit with the needle.

(both faux-whimper)

- Lucia?
- Mm!

- I wonder if I might ask you something.

- Go ahead.

- Well,

do you remember the very first day

that we arrived in Tilling?

- Quite vividly.

Mapp trying to be charming,
already a bit bossy.

- And the misunderstanding at the hotel.

- At the Traders Arms?

No.

I don't remember that, what was it?

- Well the landlady thought
that we were, well, together.

- So she did!

Quite right.
- Married, in fact.

- Mm. (giggles)

And we had a good laugh over it.

- Did we?

- Well of course, in a manner
of speaking we were together.

- And in a manner of speaking
have been ever since.

You were a saint to put me up at Grebe

when I had my beard and shingles trouble.

- And you, Georgie.

To put me up at the cottage
until I could get into here.

- But what happens now?

One evening dinner over at my cottage,

the next evening here at Mallards.

Lucia, do you remember when
we were going back to Risim,

you said that you would be
very happy for our relationship

to go on as it was.

What was the phrase?

"Just good friends."

- You seemed perfectly happy, too.

Oh, dear.

What a long time ago it all seems.

- So,

I hope you won't mind,

but,

has it ever occurred to you,

recently, I mean,

in your wildest dreams,

that we might get married?

- Yes.

Yes, Georgie.

Unwomanly as it may sound,

it has.

- Well of course I realize
there are hundreds of

considerations to be considered.

(Lucia mumbles in Italian)

As it was so long ago.

- To begin with, you
would have to live here.

- Oh, absolutely, and
I would let my cottage.

- Absolutely, but um,

there are one or two

fine points we must agree upon, Georgie.

- Oh yes, me too, please.

- Oh, oh dear.

How shall I put it?

- About...

- Yes.

I hope you would be
comfortable in the oak bedroom.

- Oh, of course I shall.

It's a lovely room.

- And all that implies.

- Oh, agreed.

- No caresses of any sort.

- What, do you mean those dabs and pecks

that Elizabeth and Benjy indulge in?

- None of those.

- Say no more.

Just as we are now.

- Mm, yes.

(giggles) Oh well, it is a great relief.

- Now let's look at it
from my point of view.

There is of course the
question of Foljambe.

- I guess that would next on the agenda.

- Yes well I can't part with her.

- You're not suggesting that
I should part with Grosvenor?

- Well, no of course not.

But what with their
respective positions be?

After all, they've bossed
our houses for years.

- Which would be the boss now?

- I can't see Foljambe being boss,

not with your Cadman behind her.

- Nor Grosvenor.

- But perhaps, perhaps some
sort of equality, then.

Do you know like, like William and Mary.

- There might be a solution there.

We'll tackle them about it tomorrow.

- Shall we?
- Mm!

(giggles)

Well, there we are.
- Well, there we are, then.

(both chuckle)

I suppose you might say that
we're engaged to be married.

(chuckles)

- You might say we are.

Yes.

How agreeable.

- Yes, hurrah.

- Hurrah.

- It's as plain as a pipe staff,

they're goin' to get married.

- No doubt about it.

- How do you know?
- Harold's right.

Yesterday evening before I
went off, Mr. Georgie came back

from Mallards in a real
tizz, waving his doilies

and ever so excited.

- Oh, my madam won't take kindly to that.

Nor the major.

In any case, how will you both fit in?

I mean, which of you will
be where and doing what?

- Well, to begin with they'll
be living at Mallards.

- Who says so?

- The cottage is far too small.

So I know that my position
won't be affected.

- And I know for sure that
Mr. Georgie won't want

anyone else handling his bibelots.

- He might have to put up with it.

- And somebody else might have to put up

with something they don't like.

- Well we'll sort something out.

- We only have 'til tomorrow.

- Why?

- We've been summoned to their presence.

Victor, same again, please.

- Oh no no, it's my turn--
- No, my treat, Ethel.

- Oh!

Well. (chuckles)

- No doubt this will come as
a surprise to you all but um,

Mr. Pillson and I are going to be married.

- Oh, madam.

- Yes, that is a surprise, madam.

- A please one, I hope. (chuckles)

- Mr. Pillson thinks it best

if he comes to live at Mallards.

We know that um, you
Foljambe being married to my

trusty Cadman would only
be here during the day.

- Yes, madam.

- So you'd still be able
to look after my rooms.

- Which will be the oak bedroom

with the sitting room next door.

- Yes the suite, it's
self-contained, really.

No trouble.

- Excuse me, sir, but what
will become of the cottage?

- He will let it.

- Yes, I shall let it, I suppose.

- Excuse me, madam.

I think Foljambe is
referring to Mrs. Pillson's,

may I use the word, treasured possessions.

- Yes.

- Georgie?

- Yes, my embroidery and paintings.

Bibelots, my bed,

not the sort of things you
leave around for tenants.

- Oh, of course, I understand.

As you see, there's no room for them here.

- If we might make a
suggestion, madam, sir?

- A suggestion?

- Yes, mam.

If Mr. Georgie sent all his furniture--

- And bibelots.
- Here, to the oak room.

- Go on.

- And then send all
the present occupants--

- He means the furniture.
- And pertinences.

- To Mr. Pillson's
cottage, the he could feel,

begging your pardon, mam--
- Like he was at home, like.

Although somewhere else,
begging your pardon, mam.

- I see the advantage, dear.

The oak room's perfect.

Then I could let the
cottage without worry.

- Mm!

There might be a solution there.

We shall have to think it over.

Thank you.

Thank you all.

- Thank you, madam.
- Thank you.

- Thank you, mam.
- Thank you.

- Thank you, madam.
- Thank you.

-[Lucia] Thank you.

(Georgie sighs)

- Now, where were we?

- Georgie?
- Mm.

- I have thought it over.

- Oh, Lucia.

(speaks Italian)

(Lucia speaks Italian)

(Georgie speaks Italian)

- Dear Godiva, how can you
repeat such silly rumors?

- Silly?

Well what about this then?

- No, no.

- "I'm going to marry Georgie
very shortly, please keep it

"to yourself for the time
being upon pain of death."

- No!

- So now my lips are unsealed,
I knew about it days ago.

- Liar.

- Godiva, dear, old friends--
- Oh, shut up!

- All I was going to say was, high time.

- What do you mean by that, you old witch!

- Only that they've been devoted
to each other for so long.

Long before they came from Risim.

Oh Irene, stop that stupid balling.

- She adds that they don't
expect any wedding presents.

- Well I suppose that's something.

(Irene sobs)

Poor thing, she doesn't realize.

- What?

- Lucia thinks only of herself.

- Like someone else I could mention.

- Really, dear? Who's that?

- All right but carefully, Cadman.

Now listen to me, Lucia--
- No no, Georgie, no.

- But Lucia you forget,

put the dust-cover on that, would you?

You forget that this is the
first time I've been married,

you're one-up!

- And you forget how I shun publicity.

(Georgie laughs)

- Now wait a minute, look
at it this way, darling.

I may call you that, may
I, without causing any--

(Lucia speaks Italian)

Take very great care of
that, it's most valuable.

Well look, darling, look at it this way.

You're Tilling's fairy
godmother, come and sit down.

Everyone would be terribly disappointed

if you didn't allow this
to be a great occasion.

After all, you didn't want the padre

to announce the bands now, did you?

- No need, my dear, my
confidential note to Godiva

spread the news in half the time.

- Well I was planning to
have my topper steamed

and my spats re-elasticized,
it wouldn't be fair to Tilling

if you didn't make the most of it.

- Georgie, you're not saying all this

because you want to dress up, are you?

- Oh Lucia, how can you say such a thing?

Yes that goes in the tea
chest, thank you, Foljambe.

Oh you better take those, too.

But Lucia, imagine us walking
down the aisle of the church,

with your organ playing the
Mendelssohn Wedding March

and the tubas.
- No no, not the Mendelssohn.

So lascivious, don't you think?

- Well Chopin's, then.
- Oh Georgie, really.

That's a funeral march.
- Well somebody's march, then!

British Grenadiers, anything!

After all, the Mayor and
cooperation are going to be there.

You're Town Councilor now.
- I see your point.

- And think of all the
cuttings for your scrap book.

- Oh, well possibly,
but no wedding presents.

Otherwise the newspapers
just fill their columns

with descriptions of them.

- Well they'd be very
meager little things anyway,

wouldn't they?

Two small packs of cards from Mapp

and an Anglo-Indian pen wiper
from Benjy, or you could say

no wedding presents
because of unemployment.

- And widespread poverty.
- Yes!

- Georgie.

Georgie, you've shaken my resolve.

A full wedding.

- Oh, hurrah!

Now I can safely send my fur
coat to the dry cleaners.

(both giggle)
(jaunty music)

Oh, I'll take those
butterflies, if you don't mind.

Don't stand there
empty-handed, that's got to go.

Yes, all right there, Cadman.

- Just see that everything's
in order, Grosvenor.

- Lulu, dear.

How they all work you.

- Elizabeth!

What a surprise!

- I ventured to pop in before
it's too late, as it were.

We are such good friends,

I know you would want me to speak my mind.

- You've heard the news, then.

- Well hardly news one can keep
a secret, is it, Lulu dear?

Of course, I fully realize
your life is your own to live

but it can't have been an easy decision.

- No?

- Well, we all know Mr.
Georgie has been a bachelor

for a very long time.

- Yes?

- Well, isn't he perhaps
just a teeny-bit, hm,

set in his ways?

His sweet petit-pois,
his devotion to Foljambe.

- Yes?

- Well as you know,

I was married myself but a short time ago.

Such a rewarding relationship.

Very important not to buy a
pig in a poke, don't you think?

Well, I just thought I'd pop in.

- Thank you, dear.

So thoughtful.

A glass of sherry, perhaps?

- Sweet of you, dearest,
but I have 101 things to do.

- But I'll see you at the wedding?

- If I'm invited, Lulu dear.

- Need you ask?

Au reservoir.

(sighs)

(upbeat orchestral music)