All language subtitles for National Theatre Live London Assurance 720p Webrip x264-PoNg

Nearly half past 9:00, and Mr.
Charles has not yet returned.

I'm in a fever of dread.

If his father happens to
rise earlier than usual,

he's sure to ask
first for Mr. Charles,

poor, deluded, old gentleman.

He little thinks
how he is deceived.

Mr. Cool.

Well, Martin, Mr. Charles
has not come home yet.

No, and I've not had a
wink of sleep all night.

I can't stand this any longer!

I shall hand in my notice.

Well, this is the fifth night
Mr. Courtly has remained out.

And I'm obliged to stand at the
hall window to watch for him.

You know if Sir
Harcourt was aware

that we connived at his
son's irregularities,

we should all be discharged?

I've used up all the usual
excuses on his creditors.

"Call again," "not at home,"
and "send it down to you"

won't serve anymore.

And Mr. Crust,
the wine merchant,

swears he will be paid.

So they all say.

Why, he has a warrant
out against him already.

I've seen the fellows
watching the door.

There he is, just in time.

Quick, Martin, for I expect
Sir Harcourt's bell any moment.

And there it is.

Thank heaven Mr. Charles will
return to college tomorrow,

and this heavy responsibility
will be taken off my shoulders.

A valet is as difficult
a post to fill properly

as that of prime minister.

Hello!

Hello!

Shh!

What are you about,
howling like a Hottentot?

Whoa.

There we go.

Yes, yes.

Sit down there.

And thank heaven you are
in Belgrade Square instead

of Bow Street.

Oh, damn Bow Street.

Oh, with all my heart.

You've not seen as
much of it as I have.

I say... let me see,
what was I going to say?

Oh, yes, yes, yes,
yes, look here.

That, damn me!

Well, this will puzzle
that damned postman.

I'll deprive him of his right
of disturbing the neighbourhood.

See, this lion's head belongs
to that old vampire, the money

lender, and this bell pull
to Miss Stitch, the milliner.

And this brass gryphon?

Oh, let me see.

Oh, yes, I think I twisted
that of our own hall door.

Yeah.

...as I came in while you
were paying for the cab.

What shall I do with them?

Be kind to them.

Oh, oh, oh, pack them
in a small hamper

and send them to the
Bow Street Magistrate

with my father's compliments.

In the meantime,
come into my room,

and I'll astonish you
with some Burgundy.

Aw!

Mr. Charles...

Out, out, not at home to anyone.

And drunk.

As a lord.

If Sir Harcourt knew
this he would go mad.

He would discharge me.

Oh, you flatter yourself.

That would be no
proof of his insanity.

This is Cool, sir...

Mr. Cool.

He is the best liar in London.

There is a pungency
about his invention

and an originality
in his equivocation

that is perfectly refreshing.

All right.

Why, Mr. Charles, where
did you pick him up?

Well, you mistake.

He picked me up and carried me.

He's coming down.

Here comes Sir Harcourt.

Use the back stairs.

Pray, do not let him
see you in this state.

State, what do you mean state?

I'm in a beautiful state.

I should lose my character.

Well, that would be a fortunate

epoch in your life, Cool.

Your father would discharge me.

How dare you get drunk there!

Retard to your own room, for
heaven's sake, Mr. Charles.

I'll do so for my own sake.

Ooh, I say, dear fellow,
just hold that door steady

while I go in.

Yeah, I've got it.

Take care.

Later.

Cool, is breakfast ready?

Quite ready, Sir Harcourt.

Apropos, I omitted to mention
that I expect Squire Harkaway

to join us this morning.

And you must prepare for
my departure to his house

in Gloucestershire immediately.

Leave town in the middle
of the seasons, Sir Harcourt?

So unprecedented a proceeding.

It is, I confess it.

There is but one power
could affect such a miracle.

That is divinity.

Your own or someone else's?

A female, Cool.

I am about to present
society with a second Lady

Courtly, gay, blushing, 18.

18?

18.

18?

18.

18?

18.

Lovely, I have her
portrait, rich.

I have her banker's account,
an heiress and a Venus.

Lady Courtly
could be none other.

Cool, your manners are
above your station.

I shall fine no further use
for my brocaded dressing gowns.

Thank you, Sir Harcourt.

Might I ask who the
fortunate lady is?

Certainly.

Miss Grace Harkaway, the
niece of my old friend, Max.

And you have met the lady, sir?

I was introduced to
her once eight years ago.

When she was already 10?

You do not approve
of her relative youth?

On the contrary, there can be
no fault with her youth, sir.

Love is the domain of the young.

Shakespeare's Juliet was 13.

How old was Romeo?

57.

Oh, pooh-pooh.

Well, as you know, the
imperative of my affairs

has driven me,
against my wishes,

to live on the continent
for the last seven years.

Consequently, I've not
had the opportunity

of paying my devoirs.

Oh, no, no.

No.

No, nothing to compromise
this slender figure.

But I do confess
that our betrothal

was a very extraordinary one.

Her father's estates
were contiguous to mine.

Being a penurious,
miserly, ugly old scoundrel

he made a market
of my indiscretion

and supplied my extravagance
with large sums of money

on mortgages.

His great desire being to
unite the two properties.

About seven years ago, he died,
leaving Grace, his only child,

to the guardianship
of her uncle.

But with this remarkable will,
if on attending the age of 19

she would consent to marry
me, I should receive the deeds

to my own estate and all
his property as her dowry.

If she refused to comply
with this condition,,

they should revert to my
heir apparent or presumptive.

She consents.

Who would not?

And I consent to receive
her 15,000 pounds a year.

Who would not.

So prepare, Cool, prepare.

Where's my boy?

Where's Charles?

He rose early, Sir Harcourt?

And he's gone to take a walk.

Oh, poor child.

A perfect child in heart,
a sober, placid mind,

kept fresh and unsullied by
any contact with society.

Tell me, Cool, what
time was he in bed?

Half past 9:00, Sir Harcourt.

Half past 9:00?

It's beautiful, what
an original idea.

Reposing in cherub slumbers,
while all around him

teems with drunkenness
and debauchery.

No skirmishes with sailors,
no bare-skinned brawling.

Oh, Sir Harcourt!

No cigar smoking.

Faints at the sight of one.

No brandied water imbibing.

Never tasted anything
stronger than barley water.

Never heard the clock
strike 12:00 except at noon.

Mr. Harkaway.

Squire Harkaway, fellow,
or Max Harkaway another time.

One moment, Max.

Ah, Sir Harcourt, I'm
devilish glad to see you!

Dang it, but I'm
glad to see you.

Let me see.

Six, seven years or
more since we last met?

How quickly time flies.

You don't look a day older.

Give me a fist!

Give me your hand, nice old boy.

Yes, he is glad to see me.

There's no fawning pretence
about that squeeze.

Cool, you may retire.

Why, you're looking quite rosy.

Rosy?

Am I too florid?

Not a bit, not a bit.

I thought not.

Cool said I'd put too much on.

How comes it,
Courtly, that you manage

to retain your youth, eh?

See, I'm as grey as an
old badger or a wild rabbit.

And you're as black as a rook.

I say, whose head
grew your hair, eh?

Permit me to remark that
all the beauties of my person

are of home manufacture.

Why should you be
surprised at my youth?

I've scarcely thrown off
the giddiness of a very boy,

elasticity of limb...

...buoyancy of soul.

Remark, this position.

I held this attitude for
10 minutes at Lady Acids

last reunion at the
expressed desire of one

our former sculptors while
he was making a sketch of me

for his Apollo.

Apollo, the god of lunch?

Lady Sarah Sarcasm started
up and pointed to my face.

She ejaculated, good
gracious, doesn't Sir Harcourt

remind you of the countenance
of Ajax in the Pompeii portrait?

Ajax, humbug!

You are complimentary.

I'm a plain man and
always speak my mind.

What's in a face or a figure?

Does a Grecian nose
entail a good temper?

Does a waspish waist
indicate a good heart?

Or do oily perfumed
locks necessarily thatch

a well-furnished brain?

It's an undeniable fact that
plain people always praise

the beauties of the mind.

Excuse the insinuation.

I had thought the first Lady
Courtly had surfeited you

with beauty.

Oh, no, no, no.

No, she lived 14 months
with me and then eloped

with my best friend.

And I miss him.

And yet you challenged
him to a duel.

It was the imperative
of etiquette, Max.

So I received satisfaction
and a bullet to the shoulder.

However, I had the consolation
of knowing that he was

the handsomest man of the age.

She did not insult me by running
away with a damned ill-looking

scoundrel.

That certainly was flattering.

I felt so, as I pocketed
the 10,000 pounds damages.

That must have been a great
balm to your sore honour.

My honour would
have died without it.

It was one of the luckiest
chances, a thing that

doesn't happen twice in a
man's life, the opportunity

of getting rid of one's wife and
one's debts at the same time.

Tell the truth, Courtly, did
you not feel a little frayed

in your delicacy?

Not a whit.

So a man must therefore lose
his wife and his reputation

with a smile, in
fact, everything

he possesses but his temper?

Precisely.

Etiquette, Max,
remember etiquette.

Oh, damn etiquette.

I have seen a man who considered
it sacrilege to eat fish

with a knife, who
wouldn't scruple

to rise up and rob his
brother of his birth right

in a gambling house.

Pardon me, etiquette
is the pulse of society.

And I consider myself one
of the faculty in the art.

Well, well, you're a living
libel upon common sense,

for you're old enough
to know better.

Old enough?

What do you mean old?

I must sow my wild oats yet.

Time you did at 57.

57?

Good gracious!

39.

For my life, 39.

Why, you're older than I am!

You're old enough
to be my father!

Well, if I am, I am.

That's etiquette, I suppose.

Poor Grace.

How often have I
pitied her fate,

that a young and beautiful
creature should be driven

into wretched splendour
or miserable poverty.

Wretched, Lady Courtly wretched?

Wherever?

Impossible.

And would she not be
compelled to marry you,

whether she likes you enough?

Huh, a choice between
you and poverty,

and hang me if it isn't a tie.

But why do you not introduce
your son, Charles, to me?

I haven't seen him
since he was a child.

Well, he's not fit
to enter society yet.

He's a sober, studious boy.

Boy!

Why he's 5 and 20.

Oh for heaven's sake, Max!

You'll allow me to
know my own son's age.

He's not 20.

I'm dumb.

You will excuse
me while I indulge

in the process of dressing.

Cool, prepare my toilette.

This is a ceremony, which with
me, supersedes all others.

I consider it a duty which
every gentleman owes to society

to render himself as agreeable
an object as possible.

And the least compliment a
mortal can pay to nature when

she honours him by bestowing
extra care in the manufacture

of his person is to display
her taste to the best possible

advantage.

And so

That's a good soul.

He has his faults,
and who has not?

39!

Oh, monstrous!

But he does look uncommonly
young for nearly 60,

in spite of his foreign
locks and complexion.

Who's my friend with
the boots and gaiters,

I wonder, one of the family?

The governor maybe.

Good morning!

Oh, is that you, my boy?

How are you?

This is Charles, the boy.

He knows me.

That's strange.

He doesn't look like a bailiff.

How are you?

Your father's just left me.

He definitely has.

He's been dead these 10 years.

Oh, I see.

He thinks I'm Courtly.

Sir, the honour you would
confer on me I must unwillingly

disclaim.

I'm not Mr. Courtly.

Beg pardon, a friend, I suppose.

Oh, a most intimate
friend, a friend of years.

I'm distantly related
to the family.

Yeah, one of my
ancestors married

one of is, Adam and Eve.

Are you a visit here?

Yeah, oh, yeah.

Rather a short one,
though, I'm afraid.

This appears a
dashing kind of fellow.

And he's a friend
of Sir Harcourt's.

I'll invite him to the wedding.

Sir, if you're not
otherwise engaged,

I shall be honoured by your
company at my house, Oak Hall,

Gloucestershire.

And your name is?

Harkaway, Max Harkaway.

Harkaway?

I think I might be related
to the Harkaways somehow.

No.

Yeah.

There's about to be a wedding.

Will you take a part
on the occasion?

Oh, with pleasure, any part.

But not her husband.

You have no previous engagement?

Well, I promised to settle
my account with my tailor

tomorrow.

Well, I'll just have
to postpone that.

Have you good shooting?

Shooting?

Why, there's no shooting
for three months.

Well, that's all right.

I can wait.

In season, we have the
best shooting in the country.

You must come, make
yourself comfortable.

Say no more.

I'm your man.

You ride?

Yeah, anything, everything,
with pedigree or without.

Hunt?

Never known to refuse.

Ah, what state can match
the chase in full cry,

each vying with his fellow
which shall be most happy.

1,000 deaths fly by unheeded
in that one hour's life

of ecstasy.

Yeah!

Time is outrun, and nature seems

to grudge our bliss in
making the day so short.

No!

For then rises up the idol
of my great adoration.

Who's that?

The bottle!

Oh-ho, the bottle!

Wine and love are the only two
indescribable things in nature.

But I prefer the wine
because its consequences

are more easily got rid of.

How so?

Well, love ends in marriage.

Well, I can promise
you the finest bottle that ever

was cracked.

Never mind the bottle.

Give me the wine!

Say no more.

But when I arrive, just
shake one of my hands

and put a key to the
cellar in the other.

I foresee some happy days.

And I some glorious nights.

Now, it mustn't
be a flying visit.

I despise the word.

I'll stop a month
or two with you.

Or a year or two.

I'll come live with you.

Remember,
Max Harkaway, Oak Hall,

Gloucestershire.

I'll remember.

Hey, fare ye well.

I say, tally ho.

Yoiks!

Tally-ho!

There I am, quartered for a
couple of years, at the least.

Why, the old boy wants
somebody to ride his horses,

shoot his game, and keep a watch
on the morals of the parish.

Well, I'm eligible.

What a lucky accident to meet
young Courtly last night.

Who could have thought it?

Yesterday I couldn't
make certain of a dinner.

Except I stole it.

Today, I float with a banquet.

What infernal row's that?

Why are you here still?

Yeah, are you delighted?

I'll ring and send a
servant for my luggage.

The devil you will!

Well, you don't mean to say
you seriously intend to take up

a permanent residence here.

Now that is a most
inhospitable insinuation.

Might I ask your name?

Yeah, with a deal of
pleasure, Richard Dazzle,

late of the Unattached
Volunteers, vulgarly entitled

The Dirty Buffs.

Then Mr. Richard Dazzle, I
have the honour of wishing you

a very good morning.

Martin, show this
gentleman the door.

If he does, I'll
kick Martin out of it.

No offence.

Now, sir, permit me to place a
dioramic view of your conduct

before you.

After bringing you
safely home this morning,

after indulgently waiting
whenever you took a passing

fancy to a knocker or bell pull,
after conducting a retreat that

would have done
credit to Napoleon,

you would throw me into the
street like a mangy cur?

Why, and that's what
you call a gratitude?

Now, look here...

Now, to show you how
superior I am to petty malice,

I give you an
unlimited invitation

to my house, my country
house, to remain

as long as you please.

Your house?

Oak Hall, Gloucestershire.

Yeah, it's yours
to use as you will.

Well, nominally it
belongs to my old friend,

a relation, Max Harkaway.

Yeah, he's a capital old fellow.

So shall we be on honoured?

No, sir, you'll
have to call again.

He's not at home.

Permit me to hesitate a moment.

Let me see.

I go back to college tomorrow,
so I shan't be missed here.

And my creditors are
beginning to muster.

Here is thunder.

There shelter awaits.

In reply to your most
generous and kind invitation,

if you be in earnest, I should
feel delighted to accept.

Certainly.

Mr. Charles,
there is a gentleman

by the name of Solomon
Isaacs in the hall who

wishes to speak with you.

Solomon Isaacs?

I don't recall any
Solomon Isaacs.

Who is he?

His card.

No, there must be
some kind of mistake.

See, I don't have any
dealings with the...

you know, Solomon Isaacs.

He does sound terribly...

His meaning is
clear enough, sir.

He speaks of credit
settlement and litigation.

Then off we go, through
the stables, down the mews,

and so slip through
my friend's fingers.

Don't let my dad see him.

Well, say, you
must do the polite.

Say farewell to him
before you part.

Hang it, don't cut him.

You jest.

No, give me the card.

Yeah.

Now then, my respects
to Mr. Isaacs.

Sorry to have been
prevented from seeing him.

We'll send him up some game.

Thanks for the loan.

Your capital couldn't be
safer in a British bank.

Oh, James?

Miss Grey desires me to request
that you'll watch at the avenue

and let her know when
the squire's carriage is

seen on the London Road.

I'll go to the lodge.

How I do long to
see what kind of a man

Sir Harcourt Courtly is.

Well, it isn't often
you get to meet

a man from a different
century, is it?

He's done well to make it to
1841, what with all the wars

we've had and the cholera
and the new beer act.

But he's going to be
in Miss Grace's bed.

He should be in
the British Museum.

I told Miss Grace, I said,
you should get the parson

to change the ceremony.

Well, it's no use, Sir Harcourt
Courtly saying I do, is it?

No.

What we need to hear him say is
yes, don't worry, I still can.

She don't seem to care whether
he's 60 or 16, jokes at love,

prepares for matrimony as she
would for dinner but eating off

a strange menu, when every
dish is mutton dressed as lamb.

Well, Pert, any
sign of my uncle yet?

No, Miss Grace.

But James has gone
to watch the road.

In my uncle's letter,
he mentions a Mr. Dazzle,

whom he has invited.

So you must prepare
a room for him.

He is some friend of my
husband that is to be.

My uncle seems to have taken
an extraordinary predilection

for him.

Apropos, I must not forget
to have a flower for the dear

old man when he arrives.

The dear old man?

Don't you mean your fiance?

For heaven's sake,
no, my uncle, of course.

What do I care for
Sir Harcourt Courtly?

Isn't it hard, Miss,
that you've never

seen your intended that
you've been so long betrothed?

Not at all.

Marriage matches are
conducted nowadays

in the most mercantile manner.

And besides, my
prescribed husband

was obliged to spend a great
deal of time on the continent.

Oh, why is that, Miss?

Thrift.

I am reliably
informed that certain

of the essentials of life
for an elderly bachelor

can be purchased at less
expense on the continent.

Well, I don't know.

Oh, I like to inspect the
goods before I buy them.

If I ever marry, it
will be for love.

And God help him, if he's
not young and healthy.

Oh, Pert, a young husband might

expect affection and
nonsense, which it

would be deceitful to return.

Nor would a young man permit
me to remain with my uncle.

Sir Harcourt Courtly takes
me with all the encumbrances

on his estate.

And I shall beg to be left
among the rest of the livestock.

Two gentlemen, Miss
Grace, have just alighted.

Very well, James.

Pert, remember this
as a maxim, a woman

is always in love with
one of two things.

And what are they, Miss?

A man or herself.

And I know which is
the most profitable.

Oh, yes.

Oh, here comes Mr.
Meddle, the solicitor,

failed in London so
he washes up here

in spending each day hovering

like a stain seeking a sheet.

Miss Pert, morning!

Have you read the pa...

No.

What do you know...

Nothing.

You do not know of what I speak.

For you and your
profession, I know nothing.

The trouble with my profession
is that 9/10 of lawyers

give the rest of us a bad name.

We understand the marriage
is about to be celebrated

if Sir Harcourt Courtly,
Baronet, the fashionable London

celebrity, and Miss Grace
Harkaway of Oak Hall,

What do you know?

Nothing.

I'd rather give my honour to
a French sailor as furnish you

with the smallest
private business.

You?

You're no better than
a pig, snouting around

in the dust-hole of society.

That's libel.

And libel can be expensive.

The truth is not libel.

Not much information
elicited from that witness.

Come along this way.

Who comes here?

Who's this, I wonder.

Well, if he's wanted a
family, I must know him.

Sir.

Oh, how are you?

Quite well.

Just arrived?

Yeah, from London, yeah.

Oh, I considered a
legal practise in London.

But the truth is I
prefer country society.

Sir, show me some respect.

Please do not lie to me.

Sir, I'm a well-regarded
lawyer, qualified at the bar.

What makes you think I'm lying?

You're talking.

There are those lawyers
who can deceive by talking.

My modest claim to know the law.

Well, in my experience,
the best kind of lawyer

isn't one who knows the law.

It's one who knows a judge.

Might I request the honour
of knowing who I address?

Yeah, Richard Dazzle, Esquire.

And you?

Mark Meddle, attorney at law.

Dazzle!

What detained you?

My dear fellow, I've
just seen such a woman!

Shh!

Permit me to introduce
you to my friend, Puddle.

Meddle!

He's a capital fellow, know him.

I feel honoured.

And who is your friend?

Oh, he?

What, my friend?

Yeah.

Augustus Hamilton from London.

Augustus Hamilton.

How do you do?

Good.

Oh, look, look, look!

There she is again.

Who is she?

Why, that's Miss Grace.

Of course, Grace.

Well, I'll go and
introduce myself.

What are you about?

Would you insult my old
friend Mr. Piddle here?

Mr. Piddle?

My name is Meddle, Mark
Meddle, attorney at law.

So take instructions
from me, Piddle.

Meddle.

Show my friend here
from London the sights

while I say how d'ye do
to my young friend, Grace.

Well, cultivate
his acquaintance.

Dazzle!

Mr. Hamilton, might
I take the liberty of...

Confound the fellow!

Sir, what did you remark?

Sir?

She's gone.

Or are you still
here, Mr. Fiddle?

My name is Meddle, sir!

Yes, look, I'll
tell you what you are.

You're a bore.

How excessively odd.

Mr. Fiddle, will you
take a word of advice?

I feel honoured.

Get out.

I don't understand.

We're delighted to
quicken your apprehension.

Get out before I throw you out.

I think this intercourse
is turning my way.

For what is more
profitable than libel

and more easily prosecuted?

Assault. Mr. Hamilton,
I'm going nowhere.

You are an ass, Fiddle.

Look, are you
ambitious of a kicking?

Oh, yes, please, kick me.

Just there would be good.

Here she comes again.

I'll speak to her.

But, sir, what
about the kicking?

Go to the devil!

Damn!

There goes my chance
of making a living.

How can a lawyer practise his
profession in the country where

every dispute is
settled by gunfire?

Oh, they're coming this way, Mr.
Hamilton in close conversation

with Lady Courtly that is to be.

Wait.

Oh, well, I think this could
be the stuff of dreams,

a trespass against the
husband to be, no less.

"Courtly versus
Hamilton," Meddle,

counsel for the plaintiff
and chief witness.

That's at least a guinea a day.

I'll take down their
conversation verbatim.

Yes, that's right, through
the front door just at the end.

Yes.

Do as she says, Dazzle.

Perhaps you would follow
your friend into the dining

room, Mr. Hamilton?

Refreshment after your long
journey must be requisite.

Pardon me, madam.

But lovely garden, and
the loveliness before me

is better refreshment
than I could

procure in any dining room.

Mm-hmm.

Your company and
compliments arrive together.

I trust that a
passing remark will not

spoil so welcome an introduction
as this by offending you.

Oh, I'm not certain that
anything you could say

would offend me.

No, I never meant...

I thought not.

In turn, pardon
me when I request

that you will
commence your visit

with this piece of information.

I consider compliments
impertinent and sweet

meat language fulsome.

Now, you have just arrived
from town, I apprehend.

This moment I left mighty London

under the fever
of a full season,

groaning with the
noisy posts of wealth

and the giddy whirling
brain of fashion,

enchanting, busy London,
how have I prevailed

on myself to desert you?

Next week, the new
ballet comes out.

The week after, comes Ascot.

Oh, it must be agony for you.

It's torture.

Can you tell me how you

manage to avoid suicide here?

I mean, if there were but an
opera, even within 20 miles...

I say, we couldn't get up a
rustic ballet among the village

girls, could we, eh?

I'm afraid
you'd find that difficult.

Yeah.

How I contrive to
support life, I don't know.

It is strange.

But I've not precisely
contemplated suicide yet.

Nor do I miss the opera.

But how can
you manage to kill time?

I can't.

Men talk of killing time,
while time quietly kills them.

Oh, yes.

I have many employments.

This week I devote to
cultivating a garden, next week

to being married, the following
week to repentance perhaps.

Married?

You seem surprised.

Oh, no.

I believe it is a frequent
occurrence in the metropolis,

is it not?

Oh, yes, I believe
they do it there.

Might I ask to whom?

Oh, I've never seen him yet.

But he is a gentleman who has
been strongly recommended to me

for the situation of husband.

Recommended?

Is he a husband or a restaurant?

Would you not consider it
advisable to see him first?

You must be aware that
fashion says otherwise.

But you seem to laugh at love.

Love?

Why, the very word
is a breathing satire

upon man's reason.

The squire, ma'am, just arrived

and another gentleman with him.

My intended, I suppose.

Why should I lay out my
life upon the bare security

of a man's word?

No.

When I'm in love, spit in
my face and call me horse.

What did she mean by that?

Hang me if I can understand her.

She's evidently not
used to society.

She said she
were about to be married,

but I rather imagine
she was in jest.

Upon my life, I feel very queer

at the contemplation
of such an idea.

I'll follow her.

Ooh, perhaps Mr. Fiddle here can
inform me something about her.

He won't do.

It's not to be done.

What do you mean?

Council retained,
cause to come off.

Cause to come off?

Miss Grace is
about to be married.

Is it possible?

Certainly, for I have the
drawing out of the deeds.

To whom?

Oh, I dare say, yes, information

being scarce in the market,
I hope to make mine valuable.

Now, look here.

That's it.

Hit me!

Go on.

I'll run and ascertain the
truth of this from Dazzle.

Mr. Hamilton,
just knock me out.

It's of no use.

He either dare not hit
me, or he can't afford it.

In either case, he's
beneath my notice.

This way, sir!

Who comes here?

Oh.

Can it be Sir Harcourt
Courtly himself!

It can be no other!

Sir, I have the honour to
bid you welcome to Oak Hall

in the village of

Excessively polite,
must be a solicitor.

Sir, thank you.

Well, we do not pretend to
compete with London society,

sir.

This is after all, the country.

And yet is not insubstantial.

It has 10,000 inhabitants.

All members of the same family.

I can charge him six
and eight pence for information

like that.

It's not much,
but it is a start.

If you will permit me,
sir, I can inform you

of the different commodities
for which it is famous.

Pork.

Yes.

What else?

That's it.

I'm much obliged.

Well, here comes Sir
Harcourt Courtly, my master,

and Mr. Harkaway.

Any other time I
should feel delighted.

Oh, I mistook the
man for the master.

Here we are at last.

Now, give ye welcome to Oak
Hall, Sir Harcourt, heartily.

Cool, assist me.

Go on, Courtly, up.

Why you require more grooming
than my prize mare, Kitty.

Tell me, what do you think
of my park as we came along?

That it would
never come to an end.

You said it wasn't
only a stone's throw

from your infernal
lodge to the house.

It's 10 miles, at
least, without pavement.

And every yard is
knee-deep in manure.

It would be quicker to swim.

I'll do it in 10
minutes any day.

Cool, perfume my handkerchief.

Don't!

Perfume in the country?

That'll be high treason in
the very face of nature!

It's introducing the
robbed to the robber.

In these meadows lie
the sweets from which

your fulsome essences
are pilfered and libelled

with their names.

Don't insult them, too.

Well, pick me a bouquet, my man.

Ah, Meddle.

How are you?

This is Lawyer Meddle.

Well, I took him for
one of your people.

Oh, naturally.

Oh, Sir Harcourt, I have the
honour to congratulate you

for the...

the happy occasion that's
going to happen for you.

Well, is this conversation
addressed towards me?

Well, I have no plans
to take a wife, sir.

Certainly, I was
complimenting you, Sir Harcourt.

Oh, forgive me, sir,
but I'm in the habit

of receiving compliments
only from the fair sex.

Is this the practise in the
country, Cool, men flatter men?

Yes, sir.

My advice is do
not encourage him,

or he may ask you to dance.

If the future Lady Courtly
be visible at so unfashionable

an hour as this, I shall
beg to be introduced.

Visible ever since 6:00 this
morning, I'll warrant you.

James?

Two to one she's at dinner.

Dinner?

At half past one?

Is it possible Lady Courtly
dines in the early afternoon?

In the country, they
eat when they're hungry.

I'm in hell.

And who was addressing you?

I do beg your pardon.

Ah, James, tell Miss
Grace to come here directly.

Now prepare, Courtly,
for though I say it,

she is, with the
exception of my bay mare,

Kitty, the handsomest
thing in the county.

Considering she's a
biped, she's a wonder.

Full of blood, sound, wind,
and limb, plenty of bone,

a sweet coat in fine condition,
with a thoroughbred step.

Well, don't compare
her to a horse.

Well, I wouldn't, but she's
almost as fine a creature.

Oh, yes, very similar beasts.

You're a lawyer, Mr. Dribble.

What do you know about women?

My, dear uncle!

Ah, Grace, you little jade.

Well, I'm astonished
and delighted.

She is a rural Venus.

Won't you kiss your old uncle?

Yes, charming.

You're not glad to see me.

You're not.

Oh.

I should be sorry to
curtail any little ablution

of affection.

But might I be permitted?

Of course you may.

There, Grace, is Sir Harcourt,
your husband that will be.

Go to him, girl.

Permit me to do homage to the
charms, the presence of which

has placed me
inside of paradise.

Come.

Come, come.

Ah, old fellow, how are you?

Oh, I'm glad to see you.

Are you comfortably
quartered yet, eh?

Oh, splendidly quartered.

What a place you've got here.

Why, it's a palace.

Here, Hamilton.

Permit me to introduce you to
my friend, Augustus Hamilton.

Good heavens!

Him, he's a capital fellow.

Drinks like a sieve and
rides like a thunderstorm.

Sir, I'm devilish
glad to meet you.

Permit me to introduce
you to Sir Harcourt.

What's the matter?

Why, that is my dad, by Jupiter!

What, Little Bo Peep?

You don't say.

It is.

What's to be done now?

I don't know.

Mr. Hamilton, Sir
Harcourt Courtly.

Sir Harcourt Courtly,
Mr. Hamilton.

How do you do, Mr. Hamilton?

Good gracious.

Why... ha.

That could be Charles.

Is it possible?

Max, that is my son.

Your son?

Your son?

No.

He's much younger than he looks.

Charles, why don't
you answer me, sir?

What shall I say?

Deny your identity.

Yeah... what's the matter, sir?

Well, how
came you down here, sir?

By one of Newman's best fours
in 12 hours and a quarter.

And isn't your
name Charles Courtly?

Not to my knowledge.

You mean to say you're usually
called Augustus Hamilton?

Lamentable fact
and quite correct.

How very odd.

Well, I never.

Cool, come here.

Come.

Is that my son?

No, sir.

That is not Mr. Charles.

But he's very like him.

I cannot understand all this.

I think I can.

Give him a touch
of the indignant.

Yeah.

Allow me to say, Sir...

what, what'd you call
him, Sir Horse and Cartly?

Carthorse Fartly?

Pardon, no, no, Courtly, sir.

Well, Mr. Corson
Haughty, I say...

I say your conduct is a...

a... and were it not for the
presence of this lady here,

I should feel inclined to...

Oh, no, this cannot be my son.

He would never address
me in that way.

Sir, you likeness
to my son, Charles,

is so astonishing
that for a moment, I...

ooh.

The equilibrium of my
etiquette, upon my life...

permit me to
request your pardon.

Don't apologise.

Bring in action.

Can someone take this man away?

Lunch is on the table, sir.

Miss Grace,
Harkaway, I never saw

before a lady in my
life except for when

I promised to love and cherish
the late Lady Courtly, which

I took care to preface
with an apology.

But to that
gentleman's identity,

I would have
pledged my own hair.

Risking nothing there, then.

Mr. Harkaway,
I've got something

very particular to me...

Can't listen at present.

Oh, don't bother!

Go to hell, Piddle!

Ah, Mr. Cool,
can you oblige me?

Why, what is all this?

Small accounts versus you, to
give you information concerning

the last census
of the population

of and vicinity.

It's six and eight pence.

Oh, you mean to make
me pay this, do you?

Unconditionally.

Well, I have no objection.

The charge seems fair.

But, sir, I am a
servant on board wages.

Will you throw in a
little advice gratis

if I give you the money?

Very well for you.

A fellow has insulted me.

I want to abuse him.

What terms are actionable?

You may call him
anything you please,

providing there
are no witnesses.

Oh, well, then like
all lawyers, sir,

you have the principles
of a pickpocket combined

with a moral sense of a latrine.

Lie!

Slander!

Aye, but where
are your witnesses?

I'll give you the cost,
six and eight pence.

I deny that you gave me
any information at all.

You do?

Yes.

Where are your witnesses?

Damn!

Shh!

What can I do?

Turn them out civilly.

They've only been here two days.

Well, they are
disreputable characters.

And as for that young fellow
in whom the future Lady

Courtly appears so particularly
absorbed, I am bewildered.

I have written to town
summoning Charles, my boy.

It certainly is the most
extraordinary likeness.

It's a rat.

Don't you have them in London?

I'm in the habit
of shooting him,

but Pert has begged
me to give it up.

What, you shoot them indoors?

I keep a fully
charged blunderbuss

in the billiard room.

It's tremendous sport but
not good for the carpets.

Sis Harcourt, I have an idea.

I'm delighted to hear it.

That fellow is a swindler.

I met him at your house.

What?

Never saw him before I came
here, with all my life.

I will bet you five to one that

I can beat you three out
of four games at billiards

with one hand behind my back.

No, sir.

Well, I don't mind
giving you 10 points in 50.

Sir, I never gamble.

You don't?

Well, I'll teach you.

It's the easiest
thing in the world.

But you have every
requisite, a good temper.

I have not, sir.

Ah, a wise old owl, eh?

Neither owl nor old, sir.

Really, Mr.
Hamilton, you amaze me.

After an acquaintanceship
of two days,

you sit down to teach me
chess and domestic economy

at the same time.

Might I ask where you graduated
in that science, where

you learned all that store
of matrimonial advice

which you have obliged me with?

I imbibed it, madam, from
the moment I beheld you.

And having studied
my subject con amore,

took my degrees from your eyes.

I see you are a
master of arts already.

Unfortunately, no, I must
remain a bachelor till you can

assist me to that honour.

How you getting on?

Splendidly.

Keep your boy away.

Is the conversation strictly
confidential, or might I join?

Ah, we've been
discussing rifle shooting.

Have you got a rifle?

Good heavens, no, I have
people to shoot for me.

Ah.

It's an excellent diversion
in the summer months.

I don't need diverting.

Excuse me.

Well, I could
teach you to shoot.

Have you a good eye?

I have two good eyes.

Now, sir, step aside.

I demand access.

Here she comes!

Ooh!

Ha-ha-ha!

What the devil is that?

That, sir, is Lady Gay
Spanker coming across the lawn

at a hard gallop.

Bless me, that poor horse.

Oh!

Look how she takes that fence!

Oh!

Lady Gay Spanker,
who may she be?

Gay Spanker, Sir Harcourt,
my cousin and dearest friend.

You must like her.

It will be my devoir
since it is your wish.

That will be a hard
task in your presence.

I am sure she will like you.

Oh, I flatter myself.

Who and what is she?

Glee, glee made a living thing.

Nature, in some
frolic mood, shut up

a merry devil in her
eye and spiting art,

stole joy's brightest
harmony to thrill

her laugh, which peals
out sorrow's knell.

Her cry rings
loudest in the field.

The very echo loves it best.

And as each hill attempts
to ape her voice,

earth seems to laugh that
it made a things so glad.

Why the merriest
minx I ever kissed.

Max!

Ah, come in, you
mischievous puss.

Oh, governor.

You, too, Grace, my dear.

Oh.

There, don't fidget, Max.

Here, there's one for you.

Mm.

Oh, gracious.

I didn't you see
you had visitors.

Permit me to introduce Sir
Harcourt Courtly, Lady Gay

Spanker.

Mr. Dazzle, Mr. Hamilton,
Lady Gay Spanker.

Devilish fine woman.

You mustn't think anything
of the liberties I take

with this old dog, bless him!

Rah, mwhah.

I'm so glad, you've
come, Sir Harcourt.

Now, at last we can
make a decent figure

at the heels of a hunt.

Mm, does your ladyship hunt?

I say, governor, does
me ladyship hunt?

I rather flatter myself.

I do hunt.

Why, Sir Harcourt,
one might as well

live without laughing
as without hunting.

It is indigenous to humanity.

Man was formed expressly
to fit a horse.

Are not the hedges and
ditches created for leaps?

Of course!

And I look upon foxes to be
the most blessed dispensation

of a benign providence.

Well, yeah, that's...

yeah, it's all very
well in the abstract.

I tried it once.

Once?

Only once?

Once, only once, and then
the animal ran away with me.

You would not have him walk.

Finding my society disagreeable,

he instituted a series
of kicks, with a view

to removing the annoyance.

But aided by the united
stays of the mane and tail,

I frustrated his intentions.

Oh!

His next resource,
however, was more effectual,

for he succeeded in rubbing
me off against a tree.

In which I took refuge.

How absurd you must have looked!

Like an overripe plum,
pleading to be plucked.

Sir, I never looked like
a plum in all my life!

I pity you, Sir Harcourt.

It was criminal in
your parents to neglect

your education so shamefully.

Well, possibly,
though, be assured I

should never fracture my
neck awkwardly from a horse

when it might be accomplished
with less trouble falling

from a bedroom window.

You must leave
your town habits in the smoke

of London.

Here, in the country,
we rise with the lark.

Never seen it.

Never heard it.

Oh, the man that misses sunrise

loses the sweetest
part of his existence.

Pardon me, I have seen
sunrise, frequently,

after a ball or from the window
of my travelling carriage.

And I always considered it
excessively disagreeable.

Well, I love to watch
the first tear that

glistens in the
opening eye of morning,

the silent song the
flowers breathe,

the thrilly choir of
the woodland minstrels,

to which the modest
brook trickles applause.

These seemed to pull some soft
and merry tale into the day

light's ear, as if the waking
world had dreamed a happy thing

and now smiled over
the telling of it.

The effect of a
rustic education.

Oh, where's the music
in a damp foggy morning?

The whole symphony of
morning is discordant,

in particular that
miserable street vendor who

insists on grinding coffee
underneath my window

just as I'm persuading
myself to sleep.

Now, that is a
crime against music.

No, no, no, no, no.

The morning is for sleep,
the afternoon for waking.

And if you must have music,
its place is in the evening.

In fact, I never heard any
music worth listening to except

in Italy.

Well, then, you never heard a
well-trained English pack full

cry.

Full cry?

Now, there's
harmony, if you will.

Give me the trumpeting, the
spotted pack just catching

scent.

What a chorus in their yelp.

The view, helloo,
blent with a peal

of free and fearless mirth, now
that's our own English music.

Match it where you can.

Ah, Sir Harcourt, had
you been here a month ago,

you were to witness the
most glorious run that

ever swept across merry
England's green cheek,

steeplechase, sir,
which I intended to win.

Oh.

But my best horse broke
down the day before.

I had a chance, not
withstanding, on my bay mare,

kitty, and but for Gay
here, I should have won.

Oh, it was glorious,
Max, glorious!

There was 60 horses in the
field, all mettle to the bone.

The start was a picture.

Away we went in a cloud, just
pell mell, helter skelter,

the fools first as usual,
using themselves up.

We soon passed them, first your
Kitty, and then my Blueskin,

and Craven's colt third.

Then came the tug.

Kitty skimmed the walls.

Blueskin flew over the
fences, neck and neck

with the colt and
half a mile to run.

Now, at last, the colt
baulked a leap and went wild.

We had the place to ourselves.

Max was three lengths ahead.

We breasted the last wall, six
feet if an inch, and a ditch

on the other side.

Now, for the first time,
I gave Blueskin his head.

Away he flew like thunderbolt!

Over went the mare,
I over the same spot,

leaving Max in the ditch.

I walked the steeple,
eight miles, 30 minutes,

never turned a hair.

Bravo!

Gay Spanker.

Bravo.

Do you hunt?

Hunt?

I belong to a hunting family.

Oh!

I was born on a horseback
and cradled in a kennel.

Aye, and I hope may
die with a woo, woo!

The earth flies back to aid
our course, horse, man, hound,

earth, sky.

You see, it's all...

all one piece of
glowing ecstasy!

Then I love the world,
myself, and every living thing.

And I could wish that all
creation had but one mouth

that I might kiss it.

Oh, I wish I were that mouth.

Why, we will
regenerate you, baronet.

Aye, we'll regenerate you.

Oh, where's your husband, Gay?

Where's Adolphus?

Bless me, where's my Dolly?

We must find him.

You are married, then?

Well, yes, I do have
a husband somewhere.

Though, it looks as though
he may have escaped.

Dolly?

Dolly?

Governor, at home now I just
whistle when I want him.

Dolly?

He's somewhere.

Mr. Spanker?

Adolphus?

Spanker?

Dolly?

He's somewhere, then.

Adolphus?

Mr. Spanker?

Adolphus?

He's not anywhere, Gay.

Mr.

Spanker?

Ah, here I am.

Did you whistle, Gay?

Is that your husband?

Yes, I know he looks stupid.

But that's my Dolly.

Mwah.

Permit me to introduce
you Sir Harcourt Courtly.

Oh, how do you do?

Enchante.

Dolly, it's all right.

He's from London.

Delighted to have the honour
of making acquaintance

of a gentleman so highly
celebrated in the world

of fashion.

London fashion?

Where have you been, Dolly?

Well, I was outside.

Why did you not come in earlier?

I didn't think I did.

Well, I must have forgotten.

I'm sure we have the pleasure
of your conversation at dinner.

Whoa, steady, whoa.

Heel.

You know, yes, I do dine.

And yes, unless... unless...

Yes, but that's not going to
happen tonight, is it, Dolly?

No.

No.

Because you have taken
your cure, haven't you?

No, I couldn't find it.

Oh, dear.

I'm sure I packed it in a bag.

It's in your bag?

Stay dinner?

Or course we shall.

We came on purpose to stop
two or three days with you.

Madam, will
take your bags upstairs.

Who are they?

Dolly, they are grooms.

They drove you here.

You know them.

Oh.

Will you excuse our
absence, Sir Harcourt?

What?

Where are you going?

What takes you away?

We must postpone dinner until...

No, never mind that.

No, I must go.

Stay where you are.

Uncle!

I say, you shan't.

And I shall be king
in my own house.

Do, my dear uncle.

You shall be king.

And I'll be your prime minister.

That is I will rule, and you
shall have the honour of taking

the consequences.

Ooh!

Well said, Grace.

Have your own way.

It's the only thing we
women ought to be allowed.

Quite right.

Come along, Gay.

Dress for dinner.

Yes.

Permit me, Lady Gay.

Well, yes, of course.

What is it?

To escort you.

Oh, no!

I'll escort myself,
thank you, and Dolly, too.

Come, dear, we're
going to go upstairs.

Very well.

Au revoir, monsieur.

Fellow's a frog.

What an ill-assorted pair.

Not a bit.

She married him for
freedom, and she has it.

He married her for
protection, and he has it.

But how he ever summoned
the courage to propose to her,

I can't guess.

Courage?

That man with only
a small troupe

sacked Copenhagen in 1807,
terrified the townsfolk,

took the Danish fleet,
left 2,000 dead.

Him?

Let's take a turn before dinner.

He has two states,
night and day,

both controlled by
a strong physic.

Mr. Charles, I've been
watching to find you alone.

Sir Harcourt has
written to town for you.

The devil he has!

He expects you
here this evening.

But I'm already here.

No, you are not here.

Mr. Hamilton is here.

You will arrive this
evening and punctual.

Oh, he'll be punctual.

A thought strikes me.

Oh, poo!

Confound your thoughts.

I can think of nothing but
the idea of leaving Grace,

at the very moment when
it established the most...

What if I can prevent her
marriage with your governor?

Impossible.

Well, he's pluming himself
for the conquest of Lady Gay

Spanker.

Really?

Really.

Look, it won't be difficult
to make him believe

she accedes to his suit.

And if she'd join in the plan...

Would you... do
you think she would?

I mistake my game
if she wouldn't.

Here comes Sir Harcourt.

I'll begin with him.

Retire and watch how I'll
open a campaign for you.

Here's that cursed fellow again.

Indeed, sir.

Ah, my dear old friend.

Mr. Dazzle.

I have a secret of
importance to disclose to you.

Are you a man of honour?

Shh, don't speak.

You are.

It is with the
greatest pain that I

am compelled to request you,
as a gentleman, that you

shun studiously the society
of Lady Gay Spanker.

Good gracious!

By what right do you
make such a demand?

Well, I am distantly
related to the Spankers.

Why, hang it, sir, if
you don't appear to be related

to every family
in Great Britain.

Well, a good many
of the nobility

do claim me as a connection.

But to return, she is much
struck with your manoeuvres.

Well, it's quite clear she
laid herself out for display.

Well you surprise me.

To entangle you.

Yes, well, it
did appear like that.

Please, spare her for my sake.

Give her no encouragement.

No.

If disgrace come upon my
relatives, the Spankers,

I would never hold
up my head again.

I could achieve
an easy conquest...

...and a glorious.

I never remarked it before,
but this is a gentleman.

Mr. Dazzle...

May I rely on your generosity?

Oh, faithfully, the honour
of the Spankers is safe

in my hands.

Sir, I honour and esteem you,
but might I ask how you came

to meet our friend Max Harkaway
at my house in Belgrave Square?

Certainly.

I had a promissory note of
your son's for 100 pounds.

My son's?

Mm.

Oh, no, no, no, impossible.

Ah, sir, a fact.

Out of the goodness
of his heart,

he paid it that for a poor,
unfortunate man, 15 children,

half a dozen wives.

The devil knows what all.

Oh, simple boy.

A innocent youth,
I have no doubt.

Oh, by the way, if you
have the 100 convenient,

I shall feel delighted.

Follow me to my room.

If you have the document,
it will be happiness to me

to pay your 100 pounds.

Poor Charles.

Good heart.

A splendid heart, I daresay.

Mr. Hamilton.

Charles, come here.

Bring your splendid heart here.

I need your autograph.

What for?

Well, to release your fortunate

man and his family from gaol.

Yes, who is he?

You!

But I haven't any wife.

Shame on you!

15 children and no wives.

Come, don't be obstinate.

Right and date back.

What am I signing?

A promissory note.

IOUs of all different colours,
I keep them ready drawn in case

of necessity, all but
the date and acceptance.

Come on, write.

Exactly, you know the place.

Good.

And thank your lucky
stars you found a friend

at last that gives
you money and advice.

I'll give the old
gentleman this.

Then you can relieve
the necessities

of your 15 little unfortunates.

Things are building to a climax.

I must reinvent
myself as myself.

But I must first ascertain
which are the real sentiments

of this riddle of a woman.

Does she love me?

And even if she does,
is it right for me

to pursue this affair, since
my rival is also my father?

As a dutiful son, I should feel
concerned for his happiness,

damn it.

But wait, I feel
assured if grace?

Harkaway becomes his bride,
he will forever be miserable.

It is therefore my duty,
as a loving son, clearly,

to save my father by
marrying her myself.

In a moment, Uncle!

By Jove, here she comes.

Oh!

Bother.

I wish I'd never
seen Mr. Hamilton.

Why do I shudder at
the contemplation

of this marriage, which,
till now, was to me a subject

of perfect indifference?

Am I in love?

Love?

I, the infidel, the railer!

Oh, no!

I can't be in love.

I'm far too busy.

Meditating upon
matrimony, madam?

He little thinks he was the
subject of my meditations.

No, Mr. Hamilton, I
never give it a thought.

I must unmask my battery now.

How foolish I am.

I'm trembling.

That can't be good.

I must appear at ease.

Madam?

Ugh, ugh, yes?

I... yes, well.

Hmm?

Ah!

How very awkward.

Madam?

Yes?

Madam, there was...

there is... is, I mean...

no, no.

I was about to remark that...

no.

No, no, no.

I was about to observe...

uh, uh.

It's a very difficult
subject to begin.

Sit, wait, be patient.

Come on, man.

You've made love to 100
women before this one

struck you dumb.

I must attack her
in her own way.

I wish I had something to
do, for I have nothing to say.

Madam?

Yes?

Madam, there is a subject so
fraught with fate to my future

life that you must pardon
any lack of delicacy,

should a too-hasty expression
mar the fervent courtesy of its

intent.

To you, I feel
aware I must appear

in the light of a
comparative stranger.

But of you, I know too
much for my own peace.

Is he drunk?

I forget all that befell
before I saw your beauteous

self.

I feel born into another
world, my nature changed.

The beams of that bright
face falling upon my soul

have, from its chaos,
warmed into life

the flower its of affection,
whose maiden odours now float

towards the sun, pouring
forth on their pure tongue

a mite of adoration, amidst
the voices of a universe.

That's her kind of thing.

Mr. Hamilton, how could you?

You cannot feel surprised.

I am more than surprised!

I am delighted!

Mm.

Mm.

Do not speak so coldly.

You have offended me deeply.

No, madam.

No woman, whatever
her state, can

be offended by the adoration,
even of the meanest.

It is myself whom I have
offended and deceived.

But still I ask your pardon.

Oh, he thinks I am refusing him.

Mr. Hamilton, I am
not exactly offended.

Consider my position.

A few days, and an
insurmountable barrier

would have placed you
beyond my wildest hopes.

How so?

You would have been my mother.

I should be your mother?

I thought so.

No, no, no, no, no, that is
Sir Harcourt Courtly's bride.

Never.

How?

Never?

May I then hope?

You turn away.

You would not lacerate
me by a refusal.

How stupid he is.

Still silent?

Well, I thank you, Miss Grace.

I ought to have expected
this, fool that I have been.

One course alone remains.

Farewell.

Now he's going!

Farewell forever!

Will you not speak one word?

I shall leave this
house immediately!

I shall not seek you again!

Unhand me, sir, I insist!

Oh, damn, of course, I
should have taken her hand.

What?

Release this hand?

Never.

Never.

Never, will I quit this hand.

It shall be my
companion in misery,

in solitude when
you are far away.

Ooh.

Oh, should anyone come.

Oh, for heaven's sakes,
sir, do not kneel!

What?

Oh, yes.

Forever thus prostrate
before my soul's saint,

I will lead a pious life
of eternal adoration.

Oh, should we be discovered
thus, pray, Mr. Hamilton, pray.

Our Father, which
art in heaven...

...hallowed be thy name.

Thy kingdom come.

Thy will be done.

Your conduct is shameful!

It is.

But if I do not scream,
it is not for your sake,

but it might alarm the family.

It might.

It would.

Say, do you care nothing for me?

I entreat one word.

I implore.

You do not withdraw your hand.

You smile.

Leave me, dear Mr. Hamilton.

Dear, then I am dear to you.

That word once more, say it.

Say you love me.

Is this fair?

Grace.

Ooh.

Ah.

Ah!

Oh.

Don't mind me.

Well, I was just about to...

Yes, I saw that bit.

Oh, madam, how
could you mar my bliss

in the very ecstasy
of its fulfillment?

Well, I always like
to be in at the kill.

Never drop your ears, bless you.

She's only a little fresh.

Give her ahead, and
she'll tire herself out.

Yes, possibly.

But in the meantime,
what am I to do?

Keep your seat.

But in a few days she will
take a leak that must throw me.

She marries Sir
Harcourt Courtly.

Oh, that is awkward, certainly.

But you can challenge
him and shoot him.

Unfortunately, that
is out of the question.

How so?

Well, you will not betray
a secret if I inform you?

Well, no, what is it?

I am his son.

His son?

And he does not know you?

No, no, not here.

I met him here by
chance and faced it out.

I told him I've never seen
him before in my life.

Oh, this is beautiful.

I see it all.

So you are in love
with your mother

and want to make her your wife.

Now, I think I can
outstrip the old gentleman,

if you will but lend
us your assistance

Well, yes, in anything.

You must know, them,
that my dad, Sir Harcourt,

has fallen desperately
in love with you.

With me?

Oh, this is delicious.

Now, if you could only...

I will.

I will.

I see my cue.

I'll cross his scent.

I'll draw him.

Oh, won't I make love to him.

No.

No, the only objection
might be your husband,

Mr. Spanker, who...

Oh, no, no, no, he'll
make no objection.

He's an inestimable
little creature.

You don't know him as
well as I do, I dare say.

Oh, here they come to supper.

I shall commence my operations
on your governor immediately.

How I shall enjoy it.

Be careful.

Sir, the musicians are outside
ready to play for your guests

before dinner.

Splendid.

Sir Harcourt, will
you lead Grace.

Miss Harkaway.

I think Sir Harcourt
is promised to me.

Well, please yourselves.

If there be one habit more
abominable than any other

it is that of the gentlemen
sitting over their wine.

Yeah.

It is a selfish,
unfeeling fashion

and a gross insult to our sex.

Yes, we're turned out
just when the fun begins.

The signal for the
ladies to withdraw

is anxiously and
deliberately waited for.

Then I begin to
wish I were a man.

The instant the door is closed
upon us there rises a roar.

It's in celebration of their
short-lived liberty, my love.

They're rejoicing in their
temporary emancipation.

Well, I think it's very
insulting, whatever it may be.

I'm afraid they're getting far
too pleasant to be agreeable.

Yes, I hope the squire
restricts himself.

After his third bottle, he
does become rather voluminous.

Ooh, someone's going to sing.

Let's hear.

Oh, no, Gay, for heaven's sake.

Bless me, that's my Dolly.

You know, I've never heard
my Dolly sing before.

And he's without his physic.

We left it at home.

Oh, no!

Yeah, right?

Miss Grace, Mr. Hamilton has
just left the house for London.

Impossible!

That is without seeing...

that is... he never...

oh, speak, James!

Well, he left, Miss
Grace, in a desperate hurry,

and this note, I
believe, for you.

For me?

Excuse me, Gay.

Oh, yes, certainly.

Your manor during dinner
has left me no alternative

but instant departure.

My absence will release
you from the oppression

which my society
must necessarily

inflict on your sensitive mind.

It may tend also to
smother, though it can never

extinguish that indomitable
passion of which I

am the passive victim.

Dare I supplicate pardon
and oblivion for the past?

It is the last request of the
self-deceived but still loving,

Augustus Hamilton.

Oh.

Hello, Grace.

Pull up!

Oh.

What's the matter?

Nothing!

The heat of the room.

It's so very warm.

So what excuse does he give?

Particular unforeseen
business, I suppose.

Mm.

Yes.

Yes, a mere formula.

You may put it in the fire.

Well...

No.

Oh.

I think it's near enough
to the fire where it is.

I'm glad he's gone.

So am I!

He was a disagreeable,
ignorant person.

So vulgar.

No, he was not at all vulgar.

I mean, in appearance.

Well, how can you say so?

He was excessively distingue.

I may have been mistaken.

You see, I took him as
a forward, intrusive...

Oh, for heaven's sake,
Gay, he was positively

retiring, even shy!

It's all right.

She's in love.

She blows hot and cold
in the same breath.

And how can you be a competent
judge when you have not known

him more than a few hours?

While Well, I, I
have known him...

Two days and a quarter, I yield.

I never was nor never will
be as intimate with him

as you appear to be.

Consider the state
of the two countries under such

a constitution.

The two countries, what have
they to do with the subject?

Everything.

Look at their two
legislative bodies.

Yeah, you look at the
two legis...

ative bodies.

Why, it would inevitably
establish universal anarchy

and confusion.

I think they are pretty
well established already.

What does anarchy and confusion

got to do with the subject?

Do look at my Dolly.

He's arguing, talking politics.

Upon my life, he's...

Mr. Spanker!

My dear.

Excuse me, love, I'm discussing

the point of importance.

Oh, this is delicious.

You must discuss that to me.

Dolly?

Dolly.

Pardon me, Lady Gay Spanker.

Oh!

I will not be treated
with that cavalier spirit.

Cavalier spirit!

It does not become your sex.

Dolly, you have been
indulging till you

have lost what little wit was
dribbled into your unfortunate

little head.

Your brains want whipping in.

Go and lie down.

You're not yourself.

Madam, I am doubly myself.

Ooh!

Oh-ho-ho!

And permit me to inform you...

He's going to inform you.

...that unless you voluntarily
pay obedience to my commands,

I shall enforce them.

Your commands?

Yes, madam.

I mean you put a full
stop to your hunting!

Who put such
a thought into your head?

For I'm sure not it's
an original emanation

of your genius.

Sir Harcourt Cutlery.

Now, mark me, if you persist
in this absurd rebellion...

Well?

Contemplate a separation.

Whoa.

Whoa.

Walk away.

Walk away.

This is wonderful.

You see, Sir Harcourt
put him up to this,

because he wants
him to ill treat me

so his own suit will thrive.

Lady Gay?

Here he is.

Oh, god.

What hours of misery were those

I passed when, by
your secession,

the dining room suffered
a total eclipse.

Oh, you flatter.

Oh, no.

Oh, no.

Oh, no, believe me.

No, pardon me.

I tried to join in
the boisterous mirth,

but my thoughts would desert
here to the drawing room.

Ah.

How I envy the careless
levity and cool indifference

with which Mr. Spanker
enjoyed your absence.

Max?

Max?

This Madeira is worth
its weight in gold.

I hope you have more of it.

Six cases, I think.

Well, bring them up then, man.

What, is your Madeira to
be enjoyed by your guests

or by the spiders
in your cellar?

Yes, of course.

And then I'll
almost be in heaven.

Almost?

Well, I would wager
that the only thing that

could enhance the experience
of this excellent nectar

would be a fat Havana.

Would you like his cigar?

Aw, sweet, yeah.

If you've got one,
that'd be glorious.

Anything else?

Well, there is something, yeah.

Can't think what.

You don't have a free hand.

James, bring up a
case of the Madeira.

Certainly, sir.

And Mr. Charles Courtly
has arrived from London.

Aha!

Aha!

Now, Max, you must see a
living apology for my conduct.

There, Max.

What do you say now?

Well, this is the most
remarkable likeness!

Yes, considering
it is the original.

Delighted to meet you, sir.

Thank you, sir.

How are you, Charles?

Come here.

No, don't be afraid.

Now, Charles, this
is Lady Gay Spanker.

Yeah.

How do you do?

Remarkable spectacles.

Will you be kind enough to
introduce me, Sir Harcourt?

This is Mr. Dazzle, Charles.

Delighted to make
your acquaintance.

Yeah, yeah.

There, there, you're
doing very well.

Miss Harkaway.

Charles.

Charlie, this is
your new mother.

Or rather she will be.

Madam, I will love, honour,
and obey you punctually.

Oh, always reading.

You see, quite unused to
society, perfectly ignorant

of every conventional
rule of life.

Sir, the doctor and
young ladies arrived.

Ah, the young lady ladies!

Ladies?

Yes, I make it a rule always
to end dinner with a good-old

country dance.

Oh, no.

Come, Sir Harcourt.

What are the requirements
of this country dance, clogs

and a sheep?

Nothing but a nimble
foot and a light heart.

Lady Gay, I suffer
two allergies,

cow's milk and country dancing.

But if you were
to be my mentor, I

might more cheerfully
tolerate the inevitable rash.

Why, I am engaged.

Under such a plea
from Sir Harcourt,

I must wave all obstacles.

Now, Grace, go, give
your hand to Mr. Courtly.

Oh, pray, excuse me, Uncle.

I have a headache.

Charles!

Amuse your mother
during our absence.

Yeah, don't you
dance, Mr. Courtly?

Dance, sir?

No, I never dance.

I can procure exercise in
a far more rational manner.

And besides, music
disturbs my meditation.

Well, do the gallant.

Yes, I never studied that art.

But I am developing a thesis on
the extracurricular activities

of the Holy Ghost, which...

...which might delight her, for
its enchanted the Reverend Dr.

Pump of Corpus Christi.

Yes, well good luck with that.

Madam.

Yes?

Dare I confess
this trick to her?

No, no, no.

Not until I've proved her
affection indisputably.

This calls for invention.

Does he think me so stupid to
not see through this disguise?

I rather suspect some
plot to entrap me.

Madam, I have been
desired to amuse you.

Thank you.

Yes.

I will teach you a lesson.

Subject, the effects
of inebriation

caused by imbibing
spirituous liquors.

About an hour
before my arrival, I

passed the most
appalling evidence

of the effects of this state.

A carriage was
overthrown, horses killed,

a gentleman in a hopeless
state, with his neck broken,

all occasioned by the
intoxication of the coachman.

How frightful.

I found it edifying,
nutritious food for reflection.

Oh, the expiring man desired
his best compliments to you.

To me?

Yes.

And his name was?

Mr. Augustus Hamilton.

Augustus!

No!

Huzzah!

She loves me!

But, pray, sir,
where did this happen?

Well, about four
miles down the road.

He must be conveyed here!

Yes.

Mr. Meddle, madam.

The very person, my dear sir.

My dear madam.

You must execute a very
particular commission for me

immediately.

Mr. Hamilton was met
with a frightful accident

on the London Road.

Well, he looks quite well on it.

Oh, you mistake, sir.

That is not Mr. Hamilton,
but Mr. Courtly,

who will explain
everything to you

and conduct you to the spot.

No!

No, no, no, no, that would
be impossible and pointless.

Why?

Well, I omitted to mention
a small fact which occurred

before I left Mr. Hamilton.

He died.

Died?

Ah, well, then, we needn't
trouble you, Mr. Meddle.

Listen, they're
starting to play.

A turn or two in the dance
might help to dispel the gloom,

if you would ask me.

If I can understand
her, hang me.

Hears of my death, screams
out, then asks me to dance!

Can she suspect me?

No.

Oh, just over
there, Mr. Courtly.

Right.

, Mr. Harcourt!

I beg your pardon?

To the library!

So, Augustus Hamilton is dead.

And this gentleman who is his
matches named Mr. Courtly.

And there's a Mr. Solomon
Isaacs, a moneylender,

arrived yesterday in
from London,

seeking out a Mr.
Charles Courtly.

Indeed, he has writs
for his arrest.

This can mean only one thing.

Cash for me.

This room is less stuffy.

What's this?

Oh, where are my witnesses.

Oh, excuse my trusting
to you for support.

No, no, no.

I am transported.

Oh!

Allow me thus ever to
support this lovely bird

than I shall conceive
that paradise is regained.

Oh, Sir Harcourt,
I feel quite faint.

Well, the dancing
made you giddy.

Yeah, and I left my
salts in the other room.

I always carry a flacon
for the express accommodation

of the fair sex.

Oh, how generous.

Thank you.

Oh!

Ah!

What a sigh was that?

It is the vapour
of consuming grief.

Grief?

Is it possible?

Have you a grief?

Are you unhappy?

Dear me.

Am I not married?

Well, it's a horrible
state of existence.

I never contradicted
so there are

none of those enlivening,
interested little differences

which so pleasingly diversify
the monotony of conjugal life,

like rabbit
droppings in a field.

There were no
quarrels, like oasis

in the desert of matrimony.

There are no rows!

Well, how vulgar!

What a brute!

I never have anything,
but my own way.

He never forbids me to
spend more than I like.

Oh, mean-spirited wretch!

So how can I help
being miserable?

Miserable?

Miserable?

I wonder you're not
in a lunatic asylum

with such unheard of barbarism.

Yes, but worse than all that...

Oh, can it be worse?

Oh, yes, I mean, I
could forgive that.

I do.

It is my duty.

But just imagine, just
picture to yourself,

my dear Sir Harcourt, though I,
the third daughter of an earl,

married him out of pity for
his destitute and helpless

situation as a bachelor
with only $10,000 a year,

just conceive, if
you can, he actually

permits me, with a
placid indifference,

to flirt with any old
fool I might meet.

Good gracious!

His terrible experiences
during the sacking

of Copenhagen almost completely
exhausted his capacity

for conflict.

Oh, miserable!

Tragic idiot!

I fear there's
an incompatibility

of temper, which renders,
oh, the separation

almost inevitable.

Separation.

Indispensable, my dear madam.

Had I been the happy possessor
of such a realm of bliss,

what a beatific
eternity unfolds itself

to my extending imagination.

Ooh.

Had another man
but looked at you,

I would have
annihilated him at once.

Oh.

A man of such nature is too
bright for the eye of thought,

too sweet to bear reflection.

My devotion eternal, deep.

Oh, stop!

Don't be naughty.

Your every thought
should be a separate study,

each wish forestalled by
the quick apprehension

of a kindred soul.

But, alas, how
can I avoid my fate?

If a life, a heart, were
offered to your astonished view

by one who is considered
the index of fashion...

...the weather vane
of the beau monde...

...if you saw him at your
feet, begging, beseeching

your acceptance of all
and more than this,

what would your answer be?

Oh, but I know none so devoted.

Oh, yes, you do.

Behold, Sir Harcourt Courtly.

Ow!

Jesus.

The fox has broken cover.

Speak!

Speak!

Adored, dearest Lady Gay, speak.

Will you fly from the tyranny,
the wretched misery of such

a monstrous roof and
accept the soul which

lives but in your presence?

Oh, do not press me.

Spare a weak, yielding woman.

Be contented to know that you,
alas, mean far, far too much

to me.

Mm.

Mm.

Mm.

Bleh!

Ah!

What would the world say?

Well...

Let us establish a
precedent to society

for more open and liberal
view of matrimony.

Ooh, how irresistible
is your argument.

Pause!

I have ascertained
the fact that every tradesman

lives with his wife, and thus
you see marriage has become

a vulgar and plebeian custom.

Oh, stop it, Sir Harcourt.

I cannot withstand your
powers of persuasion.

Swear, you will never desert me!

Dictate the oath.

May I grow wrinkled,
may two inches

be added to the circumference
of my waist, may

I lose the line of my back, may
I be old and ugly the instant I

forego one tithe of adoration.

I must believe you!

So shall we leave this
detestable rural spot,

this horrible vicinity?

The sooner the better!

Tomorrow evening let it be.

For now just let me return
because my absence will

be remarked upon.

Oh, do I appear confused?

Has my agitation rendered
me unfit to enter the room?

No, no, no, you're more
angelic by a lovely tinge

of heightened colour.

Yes, well, I'll step
outside and recover myself.

So tomorrow evening
at 11 o'clock.

Outside the house.

Have your carriage
waiting and four horses.

Remember, please be
particular about four.

Don't let the affair
come off shabbily.

Adieu, my dear Sir Harcourt.

Veni, vidi, vici.

Caesar, Hannibal,
Napoleon, Alexander

never completed so fair a
conquest in so short a time.

She dropped, fascinated.

Poor creature, how she loves me.

I pity so prostrating a passion.

I ought to return it.

I will.

I will.

It is the duty I owe to fashion

...and society.

This is an unprecedented example
of the irresistible force

of personal appearance combined
with Portuguese smelling salts.

There's a tide in
the affairs of men,

which taken at the flood
leads on to fortune.

For in a court of
law, that is adultery.

"Spanker versus Courtly,"
damages, 15,000 pounds,

for the fees adding up.

Gay?

Gay, where are you?

I cannot find Gay anywhere.

The plaintiff
himself, Mr. Spanker,

as I have information of deep
vital importance to impart,

will you take a seat?

Well, yes, yes.

Thank you.

Now, you have a wife.

I believe I...

Will you be kind enough,
without any prevarication,

to answer my questions?

You have a wife?

Well,

And compose yourself
and reserve your feelings.

Take time to consider.

You have a wife?

Yes.

Good, he has a wife,
a bona-fide wife,

gentlemen of the jury, bound
morally and legally to be his

wife and nobody
else's, in effect,

except on his
written permission.

But what is this...

Silence in court!

Oh, I'm sorry.

I'm sorry!

Allow me, my dear sir,
to congratulate you.

For what?

Lady Gay Spanker is about to
dishonour the bond of wedlock

by eloping from you.

What?

Well, I thought
you'd be overjoyed.

If you place the
affair in my hand,

I will venture to promise the
largest damages on record.

Damn the damages!

I want my wife.

I'll beg her not to run away.

She may hunt.

She may ride,
anything she likes.

Let us put a stop
to this affair!

Put a stop to it?

Do not alarm me, sir.

Sir, you will spoil the
most exquisite brief

that was ever penned.

I've driven her to this.

It was all that damned brandy.

What a fool I was!

It was the happiest
moment of your life.

So I thought at the time.

Tell me, who is the...

...the vile seducer?

The vile seducer, yes.

Who is he?

Sir Harcourt Courtly.

He's my best friend.

Oh, I should think he is.

If you will accompany me, sir.

Here is a verbatim copy
of the whole transaction

in short shorthand,
as sworn to by me.

Oh, let me have Gay back again.

Even that may be arranged.

This way.

That I should live to
see my wife run away!

I know.

It's terrible.

Help me, Peddle!

It's Meddle!

Would you get it right.

Meddle.

Oh, poor Dolly.

I'm sorry to have to
go on deceiving him.

But if he would but
liven up a little.

So that fellow overheard it all.

So much the better.

My dear madam.

Oh!

How fares the plot?

Does my governor nibble?

Nibble?

He's caught and in the basket.

I've just left him with the
hook stuck in his gills,

panting for lack of element.

Oh.

How goes it on your encounter?

Oh, bravely.

By a simple ruse,
I've discovered

that she loves me, possibly.

I can see but one obstacle
to the best termination

I could hope.

Well, what is it?

My dad has just told me I
return again to town tomorrow.

But I insist to
stop and dine with us.

You just keep out of the way.

Yes, but what excuse can
I offer for disobedience?

What can I say when he
sees me before dinner?

Well, say... say, grace.

I have arranged to elope myself

with Sir Harcourt
tomorrow night.

The deuce you have!

Now, do you think
you will persuade

Grace to follow that example?

The carriage will be
waiting at the park gate.

Be there shortly before 11:00.

I should just forestall
our departure.

Do you think you can
make her agree to that?

Oh, without the
slightest difficulty.

Will success attend you.

I will bend the haughty Grace.

You do that.

Yes.

This is the most serious
affair Sir Harcourt has ever

been engaged in.

I took the liberty of
considering him a fool

when he told me he
was going to marry.

But voluntarily, to incur
another man's encumbrance

is very little short of madness.

If he continues to conduct
himself in this absurd manner,

I shall be compelled
to dismiss him.

Cool?

Sir Harcourt.

Is my carriage in waiting?

For the last half hour
at the park gate, sir.

On the table.

But pardon the insinuation, sir,

would it not be more
advisable to hesitate

a little for a short
reflection before you undertake

the heavy responsibility
of a woman.

No, hesitation destroys the
romance of an,,

reduces it to the level of a
mere mercantile calculation.

What is to be done
with Mr. Charles?

Ah, much against
my wishes, Lady Gay

prevailed on me to
permit him to remain.

So Cool, you must return him
to college, pass through town,

and deliver these papers.

Here's a short notice
of the coming elopement

for the "Morning Post"
and this for an eyewitness

for "The Herald," this
will all the particulars

for "The Chronicle," and a
full and circumstantial account

for the evening journals.

After which, meet
us in Boulogne.

Very good, Sir Harcourt.

Lose no time.

Remember, Boulogne-sur-Mer,
Hotel Anglais.

Oh, no.

And bring a few copies
of the papers with you.

Don't forget to distribute
some amongst my very particular

friends.

It shall be done.

With what difference
does a man of the world view

the approach of the most
perilous catastrophe?

How many roses will fade
upon the cheek of beauty

when the defalcation
of Sir Harcourt

is first hinted and then
whispered, at last confirmed

and advertised?

I think I see them.

And then on my return, they
will not dare to eject me.

I am their sovereign.

Whoever attempts to think
of treason, I'll cut him.

I'll put him out of fashion.

I'll banish him
from the West End.

Sir Harcourt?

At your feet.

I'd hoped you
would have repented.

Repented?

Have you not come to
say it's all to jest?

Say you have.

No, no.

No, no.

Love is too sacred a
subject to be trifled with.

Come, let us fly.

Come,.

I have procured disguises!

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Thank you.

And for you.

Oh, thank you, darling.

With a beard!

Oh.

Oh, yes, perfect.

Come.

There's no time to lose!

Come!

Oh, gracious!

I must return!

No, impossible!

But where do you
intend to take me?

Heaven, obviously.

Come, the carriage waits.

But swear you will
never desert me!

Desert?

Never.

Never.

Now, do not hesitate.

Flight, now alone, is left
to your desperate situation.

Come, every move which
is laden with danger.

Come.

Oh, gracious!

I must return.

I've forgotten.

No, no, impossible!

I must.

I must.

I left Max a pet stag
hound in his basket,

without whom life
would be unendurable.

Well, let it be sent
after us in a hamper!

In a hamper!

Remorseless, man,
you love me not.

How would you like to be
sent after me in a hamper?

No, please, let me venture.

I think I hear him squeal.

Max!

Max!

Max!

Oh, no, for
heaven's sake, they'll

imagine you're
calling the squire.

Oh, I hear voices.

Where can I retire?

What's going on in here then?

Ravishment!

Violation!

Elopement under the
cover of darkness!

I subpoena every one
of you as witnesses.

Where is Sir Harcourt?

There, bear witness, she
calls on the vile delinquent

for protection.

Oh, protection?

I'll swear before any jury.

I overheard the
whole elopement plan.

Oh!

Just give me a bible.

But where is the
wretched Lothario?

Aye, where is the defendant?

Where lies the hoary villain?

What villain?

Oh, no.

We won't be blinded that way.

I must seek Sir Harcourt
and demand an explanation.

Such a thing has never
occurred at Oak Hall before.

Oh.

Now, take my advice,
mind these notes

and remember your gender.

Very well.

Now, madam, sit.

Oh, yes.

I have procured the highest
legal opinion on the subject.

Yes.

Thank you.

And the question
resolves itself into a...

what's this?

A nutshell.

Yes, we are in a nutshell.

Now, will you in every
respect subscribe

to my requests, desires,
commands, orders, imperative

indicative injunctive
or otherwise?

Very good.

Very good.

Upon my life, I think he
means to assume the reins

and take the box seat.

I must put a stop to this.

Mr. Spanker, I
have been insulted

by Sir Harcourt Courtly.

He tried to elope with me.

I place myself under
your protection.

Challenge him.

I must consult with
my legal advisor.

I smell powder.

You see, it will
all come to nothing.

Sir Harcourt would
sooner run than duel.

Command my services,
my dear madam.

Can I be of any use?

A duel?

No, impossible.

Leave it to me.

What's an attorney to do
with affairs of honour?

They're out of your element.

I suggest a compromise.

He could pull his nose.

We have no objection to that.

Yeah, well, we have no
objection either, have we?

No, no, you could pull his nose.

That'd be something.

Yeah, yeah, pull his nose.

Who is to do it?

The plaintiff must
attack the defendant.

Ah, surely, the appellant
must attack the respondent.

Are you questioning my
legal competence, sir?

I'll go inside and write
you something ferocious.

Mr. Spanker, I am determined.

I insist a challenge be sent
to Sir Harcourt Courtly.

And mark you, if you refuse
to duel with him, I shall.

Do not duel.

Take my advice.

Look here, Mr.,,
unless you me to horse-whip

you, hold your tongue.

Hey, hey, hey.

I shall retire for now.

Don't go!

Sorry.

Written it!

It's a good one.

Mr. Spanker, do me the honour
of signing this here challenge.

The document is as sacred
as if it were 100-pound bill.

Very impressive.

Right there, Dolly.

Well, by the way, where would
you like this party of pleasure

to come off?

Oh.

Well, open-air shooting
is pleasant enough.

But if I might
venture to advise,

we could order half a
dozen of that Madeira

and a box of cigars
into the billiard room

therefore make a night
of it, eh, Mr. Spanker?

I don't smoke!

Would thus such an arrangement
coincide with your views?

Perfectly.

Well, I trust to be shortly
the harbinger of happy tidings.

Lady Spanker, are you
ambitious in becoming a widow?

Oh, Dolly, woman is at best
but weak and weeds become me.

Oh!

If you become
pathetic, I shall laugh.

Shall laugh?

You are laughing.

Farewell, base, heartless,
unfeeling woman!

And so I am, heartless,
for he is a dear,

good, kind little creature.

And I ought not to prey
upon for his feelings.

Though, upon my life, he sounds
so well up at put concert

pitch.

I'm disinclined to untune him.

Oh, poor Dolly.

You know, I didn't think
he cared so much for me.

I'm going to put him
out of pain, I think.

Dolly?

Dolly!

Dolly, I'm sorry.

Dolly?

Dolly

I've been a fool, a
dupe of my own vanity.

I should be pointed out as...

as a ridiculous old coxcomb.

And so I am.

Would I be deceiving myself if
I turned all my senses inwards,

looking towards
self, always self?

And has the world
been laughing at me?

Well, if you have...

...I will revert the joke.

You may say I'm an old ass.

But I will prove that
I am neither too old

to repent my folly,
nor such an ass

as to flinch from confessing it.

A blow half met
is but half felt.

Sir Harcourt?

Sir.

Oh, yes.

May I be permitted the honour
of a few minutes conversation

with you.

With pleasure.

Do I have you kindness to
throw your eye over that?

A situation...
my life?

Why, sir, this is
intended as a challenge!

Yeah, I'm perfectly aware
that it's not quite up

to the snuff in the writing.

But I trust that the
irregularity of the composition

will be confounded in the
beauty of the subject.

Mr. Dazzle, are
you in earnest?

Sir Harcourt Courtly,
upon my honour, I am.

And I hope that no
previous engagement

will interfere with an immediate
reply in propria persona.

We have fixed upon the billiard
room as the scene of action,

which I've just seen properly
illuminated in honour

of the occasion.

Oh, and by the by, if your
weapons are not handy,

I can oblige you with a pair
of the sweetest things you ever

handled.

They're hair
triggered, saw gripped,

heirlooms in my family.

I regard them almost in
the light of relations.

Sir, I will avail myself
of one of your relatives.

And I'm happy to meet Mr.
Spanker at any time or place

that he made appoint.

Well, the sooner
the better, sir.

I see you understand
these matters.

My friend, Spanker, is woefully
ignorant, miserably uneducated.

Shall we?

Are you serious, Uncle?

We caught him in the act!

The monster was running
off with Lady Gay.

So give you joy,
girl, give you joy.

Sir Harcourt Courtly must
consent to waive all title

to your hand in favour
of his son, Charles.

Oh, indeed.

Is that the pith of your
congratulation, the exchange

of an old fool for a young one?

Well, aye, certainly,
he's not the kind of fellow

I could have chosen
for my little Grace.

But consider to
retain $15,000 a year.

Remember your father's will.

If you don't marry Sir Harcourt,
the boy gets everything.

Now, tell me honestly, would
you rather not have the lad

than lose the money?

Why do you ask me?

Well, look, ye,
I'm an old fellow.

Another hunting
season or two, and I

shall be in at my own death.

So since your father's
death and miserly will,

I have yearly
placed a certain sum

to be yours in a little box
with my Grace's name upon it

in the event of you
refusing to fulfill

the conditions prescribed.

Oh, my dear uncle!

What's the matter now?

Why, it was only a trifle.

Oh, you little rogue,
what are you crying about?

Nothing, but...

But what?

Come out with it.

Will you have young Charles?

Of course.

Max!

Max!

What's amiss with you?

I am a wicked woman!

What have you done now?

Everything.

I thought Sir
Harcourt was a coward.

Now I discover a man may be a
coxcomb without being a coward.

Just to show my husband
how inconvenient it

is to hold the
reins sometimes, I

made him send a challenge
to the old fellow.

And he, to my
surprise, accepted it!

He's about to blow
my Dolly's brains out

in the billiard room now!

The devil!

Just when I thought I had
got my whip-hand of him again,

out comes my
linchpin, over I go.

Pert!

James!

I'll soon put a stop to this.

A duel under my roof?

Murder at Oak Hall?

I'll shoot them both.

Attend, quickly, the
billiard room now!

Are really in earnest?

You think this is
some kind of joke?

Oh, Dolly?

Dolly?

If you get shot and killed,
I shall never forgive you.

I know he's a great fool, Grace.

Upon my life, I would
sooner lose my bridal hand

than he should be
hurt on my account.

My Dolly is shot.

The brute has shot him again.

Look, Sir Harcourt walks
Dolly is dead.

So have you shot and killed
him, you horrid old brute?

I shall never forgive you!

Oh, Sir Harcourt,
what has happened?

Your uncle interrupted
us, confiscated the weapons

and discharged the shot.

But the so-enraged Mr.
Spanker, robbed as he was

of the opportunity of
establishing his honour,

that he exploded, screamed
something in Danish,

seized the blunderbuss from
above the fire and turned

the weapon on Max
and the servants.

The blunderbuss to be

kept charged on
account of the rats,

all fled through the window.

Look.

Look!

Look at the line of them there!

Pursued by fully-armed
and rampant Spanker.

Everybody hide!

He has only the one shot,
and we can disable him.

There we go, Mr. Spanker.

Into the billiard
room, shall we then?

Left, right, left
right, left, right.

The country's more
amusing than I'd imagined.

Miss Grace?

Miss Grace, to
apologise for my actions

were useless, more
especially as I'm

certain no feelings of sadness
or indignation for my late acts

are cherished by you.

Still, reparation
is within my power.

And I not only waive
all right title

or claim to a person
or your fortune,

but freely admit your
power to bestow them

upon a more worthy object.

This generosity, Sir
Harcourt, is most unexpected.

Oh, no, no, no, not
generosity, no, simply justice,

justice.

May I still beg a favour?

Claim anything
that's mine to grant.

You have been duped
by Lady Gay Spanker.

I have also been cheated
and played upon by her

and Mr. Augustus Hamilton.

Might I beg that the
contract between us

may, to all appearances,
be still held good?

Well, certainly.

But I confess I cannot see
the point of your purpose.

Now, Grace, I've
brought the lad.

Oh.

Why, thank you, Uncle.

But the trouble was
quite unnecessary.

Sir Harcourt holds to
his original contract.

The deuce, he does.

And I am willing, nay,
eager to become Lady Courtly.

The deuce, she is!

Sir Harcourt!

One word, Max, for an instant.

What can this mean?

Can it be possible that
I've been mistaken,

that she is not in love
with Augustus Hamilton?

Now we shall find how he intends

to bend the haughty Grace.

Madam, are you
really in earnest?

Are you in love with my father?

No.

I am not.

Are you in love
with anyone else?

No, or I should not marry him.

Then you actually accept
him as your husband?

In the common
expectation of the word.

Why'd you marry him if
you don't care for him?

To save my fortune.

Mercenary, cold-hearted girl!

Were you... were
you never in love?

Never.

What an ass I've been!

I heard Lady Gay
mention something

about you and Mr. Hamilton.

Oh, yes, a person who after
the acquaintanceship of two

days had the assurance
to make love to me.

And I... I...

You?

Yes?

Well, yes?

You, yes?

Yes?

I pretended to
receive his attentions.

It was the best
pretence I ever saw.

Madam, if the retention
of your fortune

be the plea on which you're
about to bestow your hand,

on one you do not love, only
know that I am madly, devotedly

attached to you.

You, sir?

Impossible.

No, not at all, but inevitable.

I have been so for a long time.

But you never saw
me until last night.

I've seen you in imagination.

You are the ideal
I have worshipped.

Then I must confess, I
do love Augustus Hamilton.

Oh!

But he is no more.

Please spare me, sir.

She does love me!

And, oh, what a
situation I'm in.

If I own I am the man, he
will overhear and ruin me.

If I do not, she'll marry him.

What's to be done?

Oh!

What have you
done with my Dolly?

I've been all over the estate.

Tell me, is he quite dead?

I'll have him brought in!

You must perceive
that this unfortunate account

was no fault of mine!

What?

No, I beg you, no!

I was compelled to
act as I have done.

I was willing to offer
any kind of apology.

But that resource was
rejected as unacceptable.

I know.

I know.

It was I who made
him write the letter.

There was no apology needed.

It was I who apparently...

...seduced you from
the path of propriety.

You see, it was all a jest.

And here's an end of it.

Oh, if he had but lived to
say, I forgive you, Gay.

And so I do!

He's alive!

I shall give up
hunting if you wish.

Sell your stable!

No, do what you like,
say what you like.

I have decided to abdicate.

Oh, Dolly!

Sir!

A Mr. Meddle is pressing
me for permission to enter.

He's accompanied by his
new claimant, a gentleman

by the name of Solomon Isaacs.

Solomon Isaacs?

Where's he from?

The East, sir.

What,

Not, sir.

Further east than that.

Is he a...

he does sound a bit...

Oh, definitely, with a
name like that, must be...

Does he look...

Don't interfere with me.

What's going on here?

He handled me, sir.

Meddle, explain yourself.

I represent Mr.
Solomon Isaacs,

a gentleman who I met
over dinner at The Ferret

in

You're the only
ferret around here.

Pert, please.

Mr. Isaacs has
retained me as counsel.

Since having failed to gain
access to Mr. Charles Courtly

himself, he has had to employ
the full weight of the law, me,

in serving a writ.

We don't need your writ.

,, bring the fellow in.

Meddle.

Sir.

This Solomon Isaacs,
what is he, so we know.

He's a moneylender, sir.

Yes.

Yes, we know he's a moneylender.

But is he a...

Good grief!

Are you Solomon Isaacs?

Yes.

Is there a problem?

No.

Are you...

Sir Harcourt, enough!

Welcome, sir.

What's your business?

Sir Courtly?

Yes?

I must beg the honour
of your company to town.

Or take the writ and
rendezvous in court

at a more expensive, later date.

Or be arrested.

Arrested?

What?

No, impossible.

There must be some mistake.

Oh, no, not the slightest.

Mr. Harcourt, document has
been given in five cases

for the last three months.

Shame on you.

Mr. Courtly here is an eel,
or rather too nimble for my men.

We have been on his
track and traced him down

to this village with Mr. Dazzle.

Oh, Isaacs, how are you?

Do you know him?

Oh, intimately.

I'm distantly related
to his family.

Ah!

Ah!

I knew there was some mistake.

Know to your misfortune that
Mr. Augustus Hamilton was

the person you dogged to
Oak Hall, between whom

and my son Charles a most
remarkable likeness exists.

Oh, quite right sir.

No, to your
misfortune, Sir Harcourt,

Mr. Hamilton and Mr. Courtly
are one and the same person.

That is if the information
I have purchased is correct.

Indubitably.

Charles?

Concealment is in vain.

I am Augustus Hamilton.

Oh, no!

Oh, no!

You infernal cozening dog!

Mr. Courtly, will you
accompany me, please?

Wait, sir!

His father will tell you
Charles Courtly is under age,

so his father is liable.

No I won't!

I won't pay a single shilling
of that rascal's debts, not

a sixpence.

Come, Mr. Courtly.

Daddy!

Mr. Meddle, if Charles
Courtly were married,

would his wife be liable?

If she agreed to be a
signer's guarantor, yes.

But that requires
a legal document.

Then do it, create the document

and bring it to
me before dinner.

Mr. Isaacs, I will pay
Charles Courtly's debt.

I am most grateful to you, miss.

But before I leave, may I add
that if any lady or gentleman

here is encumbered with debts
and wishes to consolidate...

Solomon Isaacs would be to
honoured to do so, entirely

free of interest for 18 months.

And at highly convenient
rates thereafter.

Thank you, sir.

Miss Grace?

Miss Grace, I...

I think I can now perceive the
generous point of your conduct

towards me.

And believe me, I appreciate and
will endeavour to deserve it.

Come, Sir Harcourt,
you've been fairly beaten.

You must forgive
him, say you will.

So sir, you've be leading
covertly an infernal town life.

Yes, I'm so sorry, father.

None of your humbug, sir.

Oh, here's my own son.

How could I expect him
to keep out of the fire.

Cool!

Cool!

Have you been deceiving me?

Yes, sir!

Well, explain.

I ascertained
that you, my master,

were committed to a
course of self-deception.

And therefore, as your servant,
it was incumbent on me to help

in this endeavour.

It will be useless
only to withhold my hand.

There, boy.

What is this?

What do you want?

Your blessing, Father?

Yes, please, Father.

Ah.

So now the mystery is being
solved, you young scoundrel.

You've be making
love under the rose.

He learned that from
you, Sir Harcourt.

And what would you do if I
were to withhold my consent?

Do without it.

The will says if Grace
marries anyone but you,

her property reverts
to your heir apparent.

And there he stands.

Now, make a virtue of necessity.

I married from choice,
and see how happy I am.

And if ever I have a son...

Dolly, when we go
home, you're going

to have a big dose of your cure.

Oh, take her, boy.

Grace!

But you're too young to marry.

Oh, Sir Harcourt, am I forgiven?

Have you really
been deceiving me?

Can't you see
through all of this?

So you still love me?

As much as ever I did.

It's a very
handsome ring indeed.

Very.

Poor little Spanker.

One point I wish to have
settled, who is Mr. Dazzle?

He's a relative of the
Spankers, he told me.

No.

No.

A near connection of yours.

Not mine.

No, I never saw him before
I came here in all my life.

Charles, stop that.

Charles, come here.

Charles, who is Mr. Dazzle?

I don't know.

Dazzle?

Dazzle?

Will you permit an
impertinent question?

Certainly.

Who the deuce are you?

I have not the remotest idea.

How?

Well, simple question,
you may think it.

It would puzzle half
the world to answer.

One thing I can vouch,
nature made me a gentleman.

That is I live on the best that
can be procured for credit.

I never spend my own money
when I can oblige a friend.

I'm always thick
on a winning horse

I'm an epidemic on
the trade of tailor.

For further particulars, inquire
of any sitting magistrate...

Oh, these are the deeds
which will test your title

to the name of gentleman.

Oh, sir, sir, sir.

I see you have caught the
infection of the present age.

Charles, permit me as
your father and you,

sir, as his friend, to
correct you on one point.

Bare-faced assurance is
the vulgar substitute

for gentlemanly ease.

And there are many...

There are many who by aping
the vices of the great Imagine

that they elevate themselves
to the rank of those whose

faults alone they copy.

Oh, no, no, no, no.

No, no, no, no.

No, no.

The title of gentleman
is the only one

out of any monarch's
gift yet within the reach

of every peasant.

It should be engrossed by
truth, stamped with honour,

sealed with good
feeling, signed Man,

and enrolled in every
true young English heart.

Ah!

A dance!

A dance!

Dazzle!

Mr. Dazzle.