All language subtitles for Bewitched S05E28 Samanthas Good News

Tabitha, you promised Daddy
you'd eat all your breakfast.

I will. He meant today.

Good morning, ladies. Ooh.

Oh, Daddy.

Hi, Grandpapa.

Well, look at my
lovely little Tabitha.

She's outgrown the toddler stage and
blossomed into early witchhood. Mmm.

Where's, uh, Dennis? Dennis who?

Your husband...
The, uh, M-O-R-T-A-L.

D-A-R-R-I-N is at work.

Devastated to have missed him.

Aw, well, he'll be
devastated too.

Now, sweetheart, you
finish your breakfast.

Grandpapa and I will
be in the living room.

Samantha, you look
absolutely radiant. I do?

Yes, there's a special aura about
you... so special that its vibrations...

have zonked across the atmospheric
continuum and led me to you.

Well! What's happened?

Nothing, except I'm
happy to see you.

You ought to zonk across the
atmospheric continuum more often.

I will, now that I've, uh,
increased my efficiency.

Increased it? Daddy,
when it comes to

efficiency, you are one
of the all-time greats.

Ah, that's very kind of you,
dear, but the truth of the matter is...

I'm getting a little
older and a bit forgetful.

So, I've, um,
engaged an assistant.

An assistant warlock?

Ah, kind of a private secretary. Would
you like to meet her? Oh, I'd love to.

Miss Beecham... on duty, please.

Hi, there. My daughter
Samantha. Miss Abigail Beecham.

Wow.

Uh, what's your
first impression?

Huh? Oh.

Well,

my first impression
is that she looks...

- Yes?
- She looks
very efficient.

Miss Beecham, tell
me... Oh, yes, my dear?

Have you had much experience...
As a secretary, I-I mean?

Of course she's had experience.
Why else would I hire her?

Oh, I don't know. There
might be another reason.

Mommy, I ate all my
breakfast. Oh, that's a good girl.

Uh, Miss Beecham, this
is my daughter, Tabitha.

- Hello, ducky.
- Hello. You're beautiful.

Isn't she, Grandpapa?

Yes, now that you
mention it. Yes, she is.

Sweetheart, why don't you
run along outside and play?

I want Grandpapa
to make me a toy.

Tabitha, really.

I'd be delighted, my darling.

Now, how about a
nice little swing set?

Okay.

That's some little swing set.

Uh, Tabitha, haven't
you forgotten something?

- Thank you, Grandpapa.
- You're welcome, my dear.

Mmm. That's better. And you
remember, the swing set is only temporary.

When Grandpapa goes,
it goes. Okay. Scoot.

A strict mother, aren't you,
lovey? Well, no, not exactly.

It's just that I feel... Speaking of
formidable females, how's Endora?

Oh... She's fine.

When was the last
time you saw her?

Oh, two or three
months ago, maybe 18.

My wife and I have what
might be described as...

an informal marriage.

Oh, that's the best kind.
I'd like to meet her someday.

That can be arranged. Mother?

Oh, Samantha, no need to
bother. Oh, Daddy, don't be silly.

Miss Beecham said
she'd like to meet Mother,

and I'm sure that Mother would
like to meet Miss Beecham. Mother!

Darling, did you call?

Ah, Endora, ravishing as usual.

Oh, Maurice, how
scintillating to see you.

It's Noel Coward time.

Who is that? Noel
Coward time is over.

Mother, that is Miss Abigail
Beecham. This is Endora.

Nice to meet you.

She's a private secretary.

To whom? To me.

He hired her to
increase his efficiency.

His efficiency? In what?
My efficiency in general.

Abigail, to demonstrate your efficiency,
take a little dictation, will you?

Hamlet, act two, scene two.

"O, what a rogue and
peasant slave am I."

He can say that again.

"O, what a rogue and
peasant slave am I.

"Is it not monstrous
that this player here...

"but in a fiction, in
a dream of passion,

could force his soul
so to his own conceit"...

and so on and so forth.

That's it. Perfect.

Hmm. Not bad. Her typewriter
needs a new ribbon, but...

Oh, Samantha,
there's no skill to that.

Any witch can type a
Shakespearean soliloquy.

Ah, but there's something
about her physical dexterity.

Oh, you admit it! It isn't her
skill. It's her outward appearance.

Now, Endora, you know me better than
that. I judge witches by their character.

Good. In that case,
you won't mind this.

Mother, that is
skill. Thank you.

Don't worry, Maurice. She
still has the same character.

Maybe, but I will not have
you tamper with her out of spite.

- Where was I?
- At the un-beauty parlor.

Endora, that reminds me of
the time when you got mad...

when a young witch flirted with me,
and you had her drafted into the army.

Oh, yes.

What was her name
again? Attila the Hun.

Abigail, why don't
you and I have a cup of

coffee and let the two
lovebirds reminisce?

All righty.

But you pull any more
tricks on me, and I'll... Ah-ah!

Abigail, don't live dangerously.

My mother has the most powerful
one-two punch in the cosmos.

Come, come.

Endora, have you noticed that
Samantha is remarkably vibrant?

No! And please don't change the
subject. Oh, what is the subject?

The subject is you
and Abigail... Beechnut.

How long have you
been married? Five years.

And your husband
is a mortal? Yep.

Well, that's one for the record. You
have a lot of courage. I'd never do it.

I wouldn't even get married
to a handsome, young warlock.

Uh, how about a
handsome, older warlock?

No, I'm not the marrying type. I like to
keep moving from one romance to another.

I see. I guess wherever you go you
leave behind you a trail of broken hearts.

Yes, I do. But it takes them a couple of
weeks to wipe the smiles off their faces.

Endora, have you quite
finished nagging at me?

I have not.

Then will you allow me a brief
moment to make an observation?

You have ten seconds.

I hate to say this,
Endora, but... But what?

I've come to the conclusion
that you're jealous.

I? I? You! You!

Oh, that's absurd. I haven't
a jealous bone in my body.

Well, how's everything going?

You leave my husband alone,

or I'll disintegrate you.

What did I do?

Nothing. She's jealous of you.

Oh. Well, that's understandable.

Mother, have you and
Daddy been quarreling?

No. Yes!

I merely pointed out that your
father is making a fool of himself.

Did you point it
out in a nice way?

Samantha, I will repeat for
your benefit what I told Endora:

My relationship with Abigail
is professional... purely.

That's right.

And thanks for
defending my reputation.

Mmm.

There! There, you see?

They're carrying on in public.
Oh, now, Mother, he's only...

If you have no
consideration for me,

at least think of your
daughter. Oh, really...

Oh, darling, try not to let this scar
you permanently. Yes, Mother, I'll try.

Daddy, at least tell
Mother you're sorry.

- Sorry for what?
- I don't know. Think of something.

Endora, if by any remote chance
I've done something to offend you...

Don't... touch me.
But I'm your husband.

Not for long.

What does that mean? I am going
straight to the Witches' Council,

and I'm going to file for an
ectoplasmic interlocutory.

You're kidding. On what grounds?

On the grounds of conduct
unbecoming to a warlock.

She doesn't mean it. I'm
sure she doesn't mean it.

Do you think she means it? I don't
know. We'll have to wait and see.

In the meantime... Yes?

What's for lunch?

Samantha, I have to admit
that, despite my misgivings,

so far your marriage seems
to have agreed with you.

Well, thank you, Daddy. Wish
I could say the same for yours.

Oh, my marriage agrees with
me. It's your mother who doesn't.

- I don't think I've ever
seen her so angry at you.
- Oh-ho, I have.

We've been through these little
misunderstandings for centuries.

But has she ever threatened you
with an ectoplasmic interlocutory?

No. But I suppose there's
a first time for everything.

You don't seem too worried.

Yes, it'll be a difficult adjustment
for me, but I'll struggle to make it.

And you'll have
Abigail to help you.

Speaking of help, uh, can you
carry these two plates in for me?

Didn't I just give
you two plates?

They're on the dining room
table... together with those.

Thanks.

Come along, my dear.

What's for lunch, ducks? I'm starved.
Uh, ham and cheese sandwiches.

Ooh. What else? Potato salad, and
if you want dessert, there's ice cream.

I want dessert. Yes, I
know you do, sweetheart.

Sandwiches, potato salad and ice
cream? What kind of lunch is that?

It's a gourmet
lunch, mortal-style.

I just thought I'd show
you how the other half lives.

I'm not interested. I
want my regular lunch.

- Then make it yourself.
- Okay, I will.

That's your regular lunch?
What do you have for dinner?

Oh, dinner's my big meal.

I'm almost ready
for that ice cream.

Abigail... Hmm?

You're a jolly good eater. Hmm.

Now, you have a
nice nap, Tabitha.

And when you wake
up, Grandpapa is going to

recite Macbeth for you
from beginning to end.

You lucky girl.

Mother? Mo... Oh.

We'll talk in your bedroom.

I don't want Maurice
to know I'm here. Okay.

What took you so long?

I traveled the hard way.

Well, did you go to the
Witches' Council? No.

I realized that an
ectoplasmic interlocutory

might be just what
your father wants.

- So?
- So, I won't give it to him.

- Mother, that's
just an alibi.
- For what?

You yourself don't want
an ectoplasmic interlocutory.

- Yes, I do.
- No, you don't.

What difference does
it make what I want,

when your father wants
Miss Abigail... Beechwood?

By the way, am I on Durwood's
side of the bed or yours?

Mine. Good.

Oh, Mother, Daddy
doesn't want Abigail.

Deep down, he knows that
you are the only one for him.

Then what can I do about it?

Well, how about the
old jealousy approach?

It's corny, but effective.

Whom could we get?

Dr. Bombay's nephew... the one
that looks like, uh, Steve McQueen?

- He is Steve McQueen.
- Oh.

Besides, he's too young
for you. Ohhh, well,

isn't Abigail too
young for your father?

Well, yes, of course.

But, you see, we'd be
much cleverer if we...

Are you ready for this? No.

But tell me anyhow.

John Van Millwood.

Oh!

Oh, Maurice will
have an absolute fit!

Let's do it.

Maurice, let's go. I'm
bored. We are waiting

for me to recite to
my granddaughter.

Tabitha will be up from
her nap in a few minutes.

What am I supposed to
do whilst you're reciting?

You can listen to me enthralled.

Or you could whip up 30 pounds of
hamburger and fix yourself a snack.

I don't want to spoil my dinner.

I dropped by to...

Oh, I didn't know
you two were still here.

Hurroo, hurroo. Goodness
gracious, if it isn't John Van Millwood!

Oh, so you remember me, eh?
Remember? How could I ever forget?

Brisbane, Australia, the
annual Warlocks' Coven.

You played Brutus to my Antony,

an interpretation calculated to cause
the stones of Rome to rise in mutiny.

Oh, come off it, mate. The audience
couldn't understand a word you said.

Balderdash.

Hi. I'm Abigail Beecham.

Hi.

John, you remember
Samantha, don't you?

I said, John,

you remember
Samantha, don't you?

Yes. Yes, of course.
What a pleasant surprise.

Endora, did you enjoy yourself at the
Witches' Council? Oh, I never got there.

I flew into John, and we had
an intimate lunch together.

Broiled kangaroo, no doubt.

Broiled kangaroo
is a taste sensation.

Or could it be that you object
to us having lunch together?

Oh, don't be silly.

Daddy doesn't mind Mother being friendly
with other warlocks, do you, Daddy?

Depends on who they are.

Miss Beecham,
are you a thespian?

I beg your pardon!

An actress, dear.

Oh. I'm a private secretary.

She keeps my husband busy,
so I can be busy elsewhere.

Oh, they do make a
cute couple, don't they?

Like fire and water.

Miss Beecham, you have
the bearing of a great actress.

How would you know?

That does not
become you, Morris.

- Maurice.
- Maurice.

However, I shall
disregard it on the basis...

that Will Shakespeare always said
that my interpretation of Romeo...

was by far the
best of the warlocks.

"But, soft! What light through
yonder window breaks?

'Tis the east, and
Juliet is the sun."

Great heavens! Those vowels!

Oh. I suppose you delude yourself into
believing that you could do it better, eh?

Infinitely. "It is the east,
and Juliet is the sun.

"Arise, fair sun, and
kill the envious moon,

"who is already sick
and pale with grief...

that thou her maid art
far more fair than she"...

Oh, la-di-da.

That was very good too, Daddy.

What do you mean "too"?
His performance was enough...

to make Shakespeare
turn over in his grave.

Endora, I am shocked
that you would associate...

with an untalented,
fraudulent colonial.

I'll associate with whomever
I please, just as you do.

That is no comparison. Why not?

Miss Beecham is young
enough to be my daughter,

and he is old enough
to be your husband.

Then doesn't that make
their association more logical?

Certainly not. If he were
youthful and handsome,

I could understand his
attraction for a... an older female.

But if you find this... This
ancient relic attractive...

I'll have you know, I was
Mr. Torso of Tasmania.

This ham from Down Under afflicted
with an appalling speech impediment...

Then, Endora, as your husband, I am
insulted to the very marrow of my bones.

I'm tired of all this arguing. I think
I'm going to find myself another job.

Come to think of it, I could
use a traveling companion.

- Would you be interested?
- I might.

Yes. Oh, I'm convinced
you really are star material.

Really? Yes.

Suppose we go someplace
and, uh, discuss it, eh? Hmm?

Farewell, Endora. Samantha.

"Good night, sweet prince,

and flights of angels
sing thee to thy rest."

No, no, no, no, no. The tip of
the tongue, the teeth, the lips...

"Flights of angels sing thee
to thy rest!" Talking of rest...

Oh, Maurice, there's no one
who can hold a candle to you.

Thank you, my dear.

- Samantha?
- Yes, Mother.

There is something different about
you... some kind of an inner glow.

I've been telling
her that all day.

The last time I saw her look
this way was a little over...

Samantha, how old is Tabitha?

That's it! That's it!

Samantha, you're going
to have another baby.

I am?

Answer the question: Are you going
to have another baby? True or false?

Those my only two choices? Yes.

Okay, then it's true. I am.

Oh, my darling.

Another little nipper.
How delightful. Excuse me.

Where are you going, Samantha?

I'm going to call Darrin.

I had this foolish idea that after the
doctor and me, he'd be the first to know.

- Grandma.
- Oh, Grandpapa.

Y-Y-Yes, Darrin. I will.

I will.

I won't.

I-I will.

I will.

Oh, thank you, sweetheart.
I-I'm thrilled you're thrilled.

Bye.

How very exciting. Soon there'll
be a handsome little warlock,

the spitting image
of his grandfather.

Well, i-it could be a mortal boy,
the spitting image of his father.

Samantha, bite your tongue.

Ah, here's my
precious. Come along.

Macbeth, act one, scene one.

We open on three nice
witches, stirring a great big pot.

Uh, D-Daddy, could you hold the
curtain? I'd, uh, like to tell Tabitha too.

Please. Uh, come
along, sweetheart.

Uh, Tabitha,

h-h-have you ever wished for a
little brother or... or a little sister?

Sometimes, but not very often.

Well, I-I'd like you to
start wishing it more often.

When will it come?

- In about six months.
- Where is it now?

Daddy and I will... Will
explain that later tonight.

Instead of television?

Yes. Sorry about that.

Now, won't that be fun... having
a real live baby to play with?

I'd rather have a pony.

Well, you're gonna
get a little baby.

Will it be a witch or a warlock?

There's, um, a-always a chance
that it'll be a... mortal boy or girl.

I say a witch. I say a warlock.

Boy or girl? Witch or warlock?

Which?

Oh, good grief.