Original subtitles

(School bell

Oooh!

(Knock at door)

Come in.

- Miss Short told me to report, sir. - Ah, yes, Stevens.

Sit down.

Now, what's all this about?

Well, sir, I was larking about in maths, and Miss Short said if I went on, she'd send me to you.

I went on and she sent me, and here I am.

- Sir. - I see.

And...

- what do you think I should do about it? - Cane me?

And split a perfectly good magazine?

Sir?

Remove the padding, Stevens.

You're crackling like a pan full of frying bacon.

Caning you wouldn't tell me why you think it more important to lark about

- than attend to your lessons, would it? - No, sir.

I'd like to know. Go home and write a lefter about it.

Yes, sir.

Well...

Staff meeting on a Friday evening!

Naturally, when our resistance is at its lowest.

Stevens.

What are you hanging about here for?

- Nothing, Miss Short. - Then cut along.

It's time, Mr Adams. Had you forgotten?

Forgotten? Me?

Forgotten what?

Mr Wakefield's meeting.

- Any idea what the meeting's about? - Discipline, I hope.

It's high time Wakefield gave his jaw a rest and his right arm some exercise.

Sorry I'm late.

WAKEFIELD: Ladies, gentlemen,

as you know, I came here to Maudlin Street straight from training college.

I've been here 20 years.

Seven years as assistant headmaster,

and one term - this term - as acting headmaster during Mr Carson's illness.

I've decided it's time for a change.

A brand new school opens next term

not far from where I was born in the country.

They've advertised for a headmaster.

If| could get that post, it could hardly be more perfect for me.

I intend to apply.

Oh, I'm sure we wish you all success.

Please, just a moment. I need your help.

That's why I've called you together. Listen.

From the Ministry of Education.

"The Ministry is granting research facilities to Mr Alistair Grigg,

the noted child psychiatrist, in connection with his forthcoming book,

Contemporary Juvenile Behaviour Patterns.

With him on his tour of schools is our own official inspector, Miss Felicity Wheeler,

who reports direct to us

on the standard of pupils' behaviour and staff control.

This is to inform you

Mr Grigg and Miss Wheeler will spend the last week of this term,

beginning on Monday next, at your school,

to fulfil their separate missions."

Mr Wakefield, sir, he must not come here.

That Grigg, he's a lunatic.

I read one of his books once - Free Expression.

You know what that means? Sex in the cycle shed.

Really?

How disgusting.

What a reactionary lot you are!

There's something to be said for the psychological approach.

Think of a psychiatrist loose among these children,

telling them that mischief is a form of self-expression

and crime a complex.

And a Ministry inspector, this Wheeler woman, with him,

reporting on their misbehaviour from quite a different angle.

Exactly. It'll spread through the profession like wildfire

that staff control here is non-existent!

And there goes Mr Wakefield's new job.

Puff!

Precisely.

The Ministry, in killing two birds with one stone,

may, with terrible finality,

kill my chances as well.

- Yes, I suppose there is that to it. - That would be a shame.

Sir, there's only one thing to do to save yourself.

Whack!

Extraordinary theory.

You bend a child double in order to give it an upright character.

Have you never sent a pupil to the Head for caning?

Of course, but never without a sense of defeat.

Miss Short, Mr Milton, let me put you both straight on that score.

I don't like caning ever.

Except as a last resort

- Mr Grigg is totally opposed to it. - Opposed to it, is he?

Hoity-toity.

He's obviously never faced a class here.

Noxious ninny!

Nevertheless, Mr Bean, while he's here, caning's out!

Then you're sunk, sir.

Sunk?

Oh, no, no, not necessarily.

- I thought you were asleep. - Hmm?

Oh, just because I don't speak as much as some people do,

it doesn't mean to say that I don't do...

that I'm not...

Well, I mean, after all, he who listens most, lisses meast.

We can't hope to avoid trouble in this school.

So let's try and keep it away from the visitors as much as possible.

How can we do this? By being alert and rallying around Mr Wakefield.

Sir, may I go now, please? I've left my Bunsen burning.

WAKEFIELD: If I could get that post,

it could hardly be more perfect for me.

I intend to apply.

Now, listen, when they arrive, we'll all go upstairs after them.

Look out, Alf might get suspicious.

Now, there's nothing more to tell you now, but just back us up at all times. Break it up, scatter.

Hello, you lot. Holding a strike meeting, are you?

We were talking about our team's disgraceful showing on Saturday.

Disgraceful? Diabolical, I call it.

You see the inside right muff every pass?

STEVENS: Here come the two to get rid of.

- Oh, Miss Wheeler, how nice to see you again. - Hello, Mr Wakefield.

This is Mr Grigg, child psychiatrist.

- How do you do? - Welcome, Mr Grigg.

Shall we go inside?

- One week, that's all I'd ask. - That's all we've got.

-Eh? - Until the end of term.

Come on, kids.

(Blows whistle)

(They giggle)

Well, they say it's always best to start the day with a song.

So let's begin our tour of inspection with Mr Bean's class, shall we? It's through here.

Who's that?

Miss Allcock.

Miss Allcock.

Ding-dong!

In addition to taking French and Music,

Mr Bean organises and conducts our school orchestra.

We call him our Malcolm Sargent of Maudlin Street.

Doesn't that interfere with their school work at all?

On the contrary, madam. My theory of music teaching is...

Allcock.

I beg your pardon?

Mr Bean, perhaps you'll start?

- But of course. Do sit down. - Please.

Now, boys and girls, Ten Green Bottles.

Stand up. Up, up, up!

(Flowery, overblown introduction)

♪ Ten green bottles

♪ Hanging on the wall

♪ Ten green bottles

♪ Hanging on the wall

♪ And if one green bottle should accidentally fall

(Children laugh)

♪ Nine green bottles hanging on the wall

♪ Nine green bottles

♪ Hanging on the wall

♪ And if one green bottle should accidentally fall

♪ There'd be eight green bottles hanging on the wall

(Sighs)

I must diet.

Up, up, up!

Monica, dear, keep it up, up, up!

Up, up, up! Halt!

Feet-apart spring.

And relax.

- How do you do? - So pleased to meet you.

Miss Allcock.

Mr Grigg.

Are you satisfied with your equipment, Miss Allcock?

Well, I've had no complaints so far.

Oh, equipment.

Yes, yes, I have everything I need, thank you.

Do you find mental relaxation follows physical activity?

Oh, always.

Splendid.

That's all. Thank you.

MISS WHEELER: I have one more question.

Do you favour the Swedish method?

Well, I always say it's the same the whole world over.

(Laughs)

Shall we have a demonstration, Miss Allcock?

Righto.

(Blows whistle)

Now, hands on hips, please.

Quite still.

Monica, dear, don't scratch.

And...

To the left, two, three. To the right, two, three.

Forward, two, three.

And up!

Yes, a little bit sleepy-byes this morning, aren't we?

Monica, dear, if the elastic's broken, fall out.

If not, stop fidgeting!

And again. Hands on hips, please.

And...to the left, two, three.

To the right, two, three.

Forward, two, three.

And up!

Feel-apart spring.

Hands above head. Place!

Fast forward...

- Bend. (Ripping)

Ah, here we are. Mr Milton's producing our school play, Romeo And Juliet,

with incidental music composed by Mr Bean.

You've arrived at a particularly interesting moment.

Not entirely by accident, I dare say. (Chuckles)

We're about to have question time,

questions arising from the play, you know.

You'll find, as I always do, that Shakespeare has such an ennobling effect on the young mind.

Do sit down.

I do hope Miss Allcock's pants aren't ruined.

Now then, boys and girls, who's first?

Ah, Stevens.

Robin Stevens. He's playing Romeo. Well?

We're working from the schools' edition of the play.

Quite correct. Very observant lad.

- What's your question? - Why, sir?

- Why what? - Why is there a schools' edition of the play?

Well, Stevens, it's like this.

There are certain things in Shakespeare which young people wouldn't understand.

- Such as, sir? - Be quiet. Don't interrupt. I haven't finished.

In the schools' edition, these things are cut out,

so that young people can concentrate on the beautiful use of the English language,

which is Shakespeare's major achievement.

- Does that answer your question? - No, sir.

Will you give an example, see if we understand it?

No, sit down, Stevens.

-But sir... - Sit down!

Question from someone else?

Er...we really ought to be getting along to Mr Adams's class.

- No, no, no, this is fascinating. - Penelope Lee.

She's playing Juliet.

Would you care to leave now, Miss Wheeler? Mr Grigg can join us later.

No, thank you.

- Act One, Scene Five, sir. - Your sweet little scene with the nurse, yes.

"Go ask his name. If he be married, my grave is like to be my wedding bed."

Well, what's your question?

- What's a wedding bed? - What do you mean, what's a wedding bed?

Well, what's it like? What's special about a wedding bed?

Really, I don't see what that's got to do with Romeo And Juliet.

Hell of a lot, if you ask me.

(Ripple of laughter)

Nobody did ask you, Atkins. Be quiet.

I don't think that point is of any great importance, dear.

Oh, but, sir, I have to say it.

- I must understand what I say on the stage. - I'll cut the speech.

There won't be much left of the play at this rate.

Bloomin' good job, too.

- Pat! Atkins! Be quiet. - About this bed...

- Wedding beds are bigger. - Why?

They just are. It's a custom.

No, really? My dad's got a book - Marriage Customs Throughout History.

I'm not interested in your dad's marriage customs.

His book, I mean.

Can't you use a big bed if you're not married?

- Or a small bed if you are? - That's quite enough about beds.

Next question. Yes, Irene?

- It says in the play Juliet was 14. - Correct. Next question.

She was some teenager!

- That's not a question. - Give us a chance. My question is...

Why wasn't we born in Shakespeare's time? Cor!

Atkins!

Why wasn't she up before the beak?

The beak?

Magistrate. Juvenile court.

You know. I mean, look what she did, and at 14.

MILTON: This all happened a long time ago.

- And in Italy. - Exactly.

What do you mean?

Didn't you know, sir?

Girls in Italy sort of...earlier.

Something to do with the climate.

Not only in Italy. There's a girl down our street.

I'm not interested in the girl down your street.

Well, you're in a minority. Only last Saturday night...

Be quiet!

This has nothing to do with Romeo And Juliet.

Oh, but it has, sir! She's 14.

Who? (Mimics her) The girl down our street. Now stop this!

- I think I know the girl you mean. - You would.

Be quiet! I'm not going to answer any more questions.

- Oh, sir! - Sir, one more, sir! Please, sir!

Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! All of you!

Did you hear what I said?

Yes, sir.

Then why is your hand up?

Oh, sir...

Oh, very well. Cut along then.

The rest of you, get out your grammar books.

(All groan) Oh, dear!

(Slamming of books on desks)

(Wakefield clears throat)

Miss Wheeler, I'm terribly sorry. I don't know what got into them.

Oh, I do. Adolescent curiosity logically focused.

Superb research material. I couldn't be more pleased if I tried.

Mr Milton, do they often rag you like this?

No, no, most unusual.

I see. And nothing personal, Mr Wakefield,

but I find that when the real headmaster is absent, children seem to sense...

No, no, not at all. I can't understand it. I...

Now then. Stevens...

- It connects. - Hope it works.

Well, of course it'll work.

Excuse me.

- But not today. - We were just looking at it, sir.

I'm very pleased to see you taking such an interest.

Right now, to your places.

Well, the actual shape is designed to combat all the atmospheric pressures and other difficulties

that I've already explained. Here...

Please, don't stop, Mr Adams.

Thank you, sir.

As I told you, the rocket is a working model.

And in a day or so,

I hope to arrange an outing to a suitable open space

where we will launch it.

(Excited whispering)

(Gulps)

Gulp!

(High-pitched) Settle down...down now, please.

I can hardly wait for that moment,

when I place the final component necessary electronically to activate the rocket...

...in here.

Then I shall check the directional fins, the dispensable boosters,

the streamlined acorn cap.

And then a touch to this button,

and away!

Isn't it extraordinary, boys and girls,

that this little button here - absolutely harmless now...

(Coughs)

Who did that?

Who done it?

English literature ennobling?

It's about as ennobling as a spring night in Port Said.

They were all I had on.

My piano. Oh, my piano!

Thank your lucky stars they didn't visit your class.

Oh, they're welcome. I have very little trouble.

- Don't depend on it. - On what?

The cane. We can't send them upstairs any more.

Oh, so you're seeing sense at last?

- A few good whackings... - Oh, really, Grace!

This isn't just aimless mischief.

It's planned, coordinated,

- timed. - I'll say it's timed.

The second I bent forward.

Oh, for goodness' sake, Sarah!

- Don't go on about your stupid shorts. - You haven't seen the hole in them.

I have no wish to. Thank you.

What are a pair of torn shorts beside my piano?

My beautiful, wrecked piano!

Does that mean you won't be able to finish composing the music for the play?

Real composers don't require pianos.

It is all in the mind.

Best place for it.

Never wanted my music, have you?

Tchaikovsky would have done me if I'd had to have music at all...

Out with it! What's your objection? Come on, let's have all of it.

All right! It's already my Herculean task to coax anything like audibility from these children.

If| also have to cope with an orchestra that makes a lullaby sound like the climax to 1812...

You can hear a pin drop during their quiet passages.

And I'd rather!

A pin wouldn't have made any difference. They'd still have split.

Sarah, constant reference to those shorts won't get us to the "bottom” of this trouble. Ha, ha!

Do you mind?

I demand an apology.

Oh, very well.

I'm sorry.

That I ever agreed to have your wretched music in the first place.

I've got it! I think I've got it!

- What? - The answer. The reason for the mischief.

By scientific analysis, I suppose?

Look, it's quite simple.

One - the kids know they're guineas...pigs, for Whigg and Greeler.

Er...Grigg and Wheeler.

Two - they resent it. Ergo, three - they aim to chase them from the premises.

They wouldn't dare if caning was still in force.

Don't you see? That's just their good luck.

- It's not their motive. - That makes sense to me.

And I agree with the kids.

The sooner that psychiatric simpleton leaves, the better.

Well, he can't leave. He mustn't.

Well, what I mean is, if Mr Adams is right,

it would be fatal if...

for what little discipline we have got - if the children succeeded.

Wouldn't it?

Oh, absolutely, Sarah.

- They mustn't get away with it. - There's next term to live through.

Oh, Grigg and Wheeler must stay.

But how are we going to live through the rest of the week?

But you mustn't apologise, Mr Wakefield. No, no, no.

What I saw this morning is a complete vindication of my theory -

practical jokes are the most valuable pointers to the inner conflict of childhood.

- You don't say? - Take one example.

The gym shorts. It's all in my last book.

Your last book? I'd love to read that.

People say it's the nearest thing in the English language to my Viennese professor's ,

"Mit dem Ausziehen der Kleider stellt sich das Kind ein Pass des Glücks aus."

"Flinging off clothes is a child's passport to happiness.”

Ah, dear Professor Schmarel.

How his eyes would have lit up to have seen those pants split.

(Clears throat) I take it you don't altogether agree, Miss Wheeler?

Mr Grigg and I have long since agreed to differ.

Perhaps we can all agree on this, at any rate -

that it would be a poor thing for education if teachers couldn't take a practical joke?

Oh, certainly.

Shall we continue our tour?

Jolly fun, what?

- What's up? - Sh!

How did school lunch go?

Oh, all right, but I's always exhausting to supervise it. I'd like to get my feet up.

Well, I've been thinking about what Mr Bean said.

You know, find the ringleaders.

Now, suppose we keep our eyes peeled,

go out on patrol, as it were?

Think what a triumph it would be if two women brought in the ringleaders.

Rattling good idea!

Come on, then.

Casually now.

That Atkins boy.

I've suspected him from the start.

Look. Carefully.

Over there, by the radiator.

Maybe they're interfering with the heating system.

That way, quick!

- Now then, boys, what are you doing? - Hello, miss.

I don't know about the rest, but Atkins can't bluff with that hand.

Come on.

Hodgson!

Yes, sir?

- Strip the board! - Strip the...?

Strip!

Oh.

Ah!

Mit dem Ausziehen der Kleider stellt sich das Kind ein Pass des Glücks aus.

I don't believe it!

(Door opens)

All right, sit down.

There's been some trouble this morning.

There isn't going to be any trouble in my classes.

The first one of you to talk

or move out of turn,

or in any way disrupt...

Atkins.

- What's that? - Your hand, miss.

Right. What size is it?

- Outsize? (Giggling)

Smack size.

- Do I make myself clear? - Yes, miss.

Right.

We will now spend a quiet, pleasant lesson

considering some of the knottier problems

presented by fractions and decimals.

Or else.

Page 45.

(Door opens)

Ah, Miss Short.

Excuse me, won't you? But I'd like to conduct a little experiment on logic.

- Certainly. - Thank you.

Pay attention to Mr Grigg.

Now, children.

I'd like you to call out any two-figure numbers.

Now, who's first?

27.

49.

49..

They're puzzled.

So am I.

Wait. The experiment never fails. Someone always questions my actions.

That someone is the logical element in the group.

81.

81. Hmm.

65.

65?

33.

33.

Go on, then. Muck about with that.

Oh...

(Knock on door) - Ah. Come in.

Ah, Adams, so prompt. Very glad to see you.

- Thank you. - Make yourself comfortable. Sit down.

- The chairs are quite safe now. - Safe?

Sh!

(Clatter of typewriter keys) - Keep your voice down, there's a good chap.

Well, Mr Adams, after this morning, I doubt if I could get a job seeing children across the street,

let alone a headmastership.

Well, I must say, sir, you don't seem to be at all worried by it.

Why should I be? I'm not.

The solution is in this very room.

- Well, I'm afraid I don't quite see... - Sh! Please, keep it down.

- Now, Adams, let's analyse this scientifically. - Yeah, yes.

If, at the end of this week, Miss Wheeler presents her reports,

then I can't possibly hope to get the job I want.

- That's the problem, right? - Right, yes.

The solution is simple.

Miss Wheeler must be mellowed.

Mellowed?

What makes a woman mellow, Mr Adams?

What takes her mind off her work?

Love, Mr Adams.

(Hoarsely) Why are you telling me all this, Mr Wakefield?

Because the solution is in this very room.

You, Mr Adams, you are the solution.

- Me? - Please, please, keep your voice down.

For goodness' sake. She's using the next room as her study.

Yeah, but...

Mr Adams, Miss Wheeler is in love with you.

- No! - Oh, yes.

I saw it this morning in the lab.

- Oh, no, sir, please. - The signs were unmistakeable.

- She yearns for you. - Oh, no, sir, please. I can'...

- It's pot nossible, sir. - Oh, not only nossible, it's possible.

In fact, it's certain.

Look, sir, how do you know this?

I mean, after all, sir, you...you... you're a bachelor.

But I'm not dead.

Gregory, I'm not just thinking of myself.

Take pity on that poor, frustrated woman in there.

Show her a little response, a little tenderness, a little love.

It's nothing more or less than your simple duty as a human being.

Look, sir, you know me.

I'd...I'd do...do anything in the world to help you. You mow knee, sir. But...

I wouldn't know what to do, sir.

You wouldn't.

In that new school,

there are three laboratories.

All slap-bang up-to-date.

I will require the services

of a senior - and loyal - science master.

- Three? - Three.

Well, I'll just have to have a little time for thought.

There is no time for thought, only action.

- Three? - Three.

For you, sir, and for science.

- I'll do my nut...mutmost. - Good man!

Well done, Adams. Oh, I knew I could depend on you.

Ah, sonnets of Shakespeare.

"Those lips that love's own hand did make."

Oh, dear.

"Little love-god, lying once asleep."

"My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun."

Oh!

Don't let me distract you, Mr Adams. I'm just doing a bit of research.

Oh, so am I.

I always inspect a school library thoroughly.

Oh, it's very revealing, I'm sure.

Em...

Yes?

Erm...nothing, nothing.

Miss Wheeler,

I have something to say to you.

Yes?

The light makes your hair look like burnished gold.

Your eyes twinkle like the styes in your eyes.

The skies...scars.

What suddenly makes you say that?

I'm a scientist, you see.

I observe...these things.

I hope you don't mind.

Why should I?

Well, I... I didn't want you to think I was being personal.

Aren't you?

Oh, no!

Well, just scientific.

Oh.

Oh, well, of course, in that case, I don't mind at all.

(Chuckles nervously) Good.

Miss Wheeler!

Miss Wheeler, there is something I must say to you.

Miss Whee...

Oh!

You've fallen.

Yes, Miss Wheeler!

That's it. I have.

Miss Wheeler, I've fallen in...

...fallen in through the hole of a chair.

Well?

(Clatter of typewriter keys)

- Oh! (Boys laugh)

- Good morning, Miss Allcock. - Good morning, Mr Grigg.

I'd like to have a long chat with you sometime.

- What about? - Physical exercise.

Oh, but of course, sir. We were told to give you all possible cooperation.

I shan't ask the impossible.

Sometime today?

- Oh, yes.

Oh, I almost forgot. I've got something for you.

You have, Mr Grigg?

Mmm, yes.

My latest. I thought you might be interested.

If's rather advanced.

Well, that doesn't surprise me. You're rather a forward sort of chap all round.

I don't believe in repressing natural instincts.

Very unhealthy.

Oh, sick-making, I do agree.

I look forward to our little chat, then.

- See you later. - Bye.

Thanks for the book.

(Whistle doesn't sound)

They've taken the pea.

(Whistles)

You'd better top it up.

(Kettle whistles)

Oh, let me get this clear, Johann Sebastian Bean.

You want to stop the recitation of the Prologue

while you play five minutes' music?

The star-cross'd lovers theme is vital to my integrated musical interpretation.

And what, may I ask, does the actor do all this time? Tap dance?

He could toy with his dirk.

Or he could chuck it at you.

There is no need to be offensive.

BOTH: Thank you, Sarah.

May I remind you music is supposed to be incidental, not dominant?

- Thank you. Mr Milton? - Shut up, Adams. This is a crisis.

- I know. - Shut up!

Please, gentlemen, I'm just making out the lighting.

Oh, all I want you to do there is dazzle his tone-deaf, so-called orchestra...

...So they can't read their entirely superfluous, so-called music.

Superfluous?

It'll be the making of the production.

Poppycock! The play is the thing.

I will not yield a note.

And I will not sacrifice the inspired verbal music of Shakespeare for your dreary dirges.

Dirges?

Dreary dirges!

- Withdraw that remark! - Never!

I shall be forced to strike you!

You do and I'll break your...baton!

Now, now, you two, sit down and drink your teal

Yes, it's getting cold while you're getting hot.

(Laughs) Ho, ho!

Drink up, you two, for goodness' sake.

Grown men wasting a free period squabbling.

Mmm!

I say, Sarah, do you think I might possibly have another cup?

- Going my way? - Possibly.

- I'm going to check up on some facts. - With Mr Adams?

- Yes, as it happens. - I see.

There's nothing to see.

I'm a psychiatrist, you know.

You forget yourself, Mr Grigg.

(Drunkenly) ♪ Five school teachers

♪ All without a care

♪ Five school teachers

♪ La, dee, da-dee-da

♪ And if one school teacher

♪ Is standing by the chair

♪ There'll be four school teachers

♪ All without a care

Who's out? Shorty!

♪ Four school teachers

♪ Handing out the cane

(Drunken laughter)

♪ And if one school teacher

♪ Stands beside a chair

♪ There'll be three school teachers

(Laughs)

(Laughs hysterically)

(Sniffs)

You're drunk!

- Put your hands up! - Miss Allcock!

Or I'll flatten you out like a carpet, you slanderous cat!

(Milton giggles)

Miss Allcock!

Hic!!

(Groans)

Alistair...

Mmm...

Oh, I'm dreaming!

What a pity I'm only dreaming.

Sarah.

Oh, it's so real.

Ooh, it's no dream.

Oooh, there was alcohol in that tea.

What...?

What are you doing here?

You were dreaming about me.

Well, ... I can't help my dreams.

I can...help them to come true.

Mr Grigg!

That's a retrogressive step. You called me Alistair just now.

Well, I'm not myself.

Don't confuse me.

There's no confusion. They happen to be my dreams, too.

Alistair!

Sarah!

Oh, Sarah, I knew you were for me

the moment, the magic moment, when our eyes first met.

A flame sparked.

Oh, you mad fool!

Oh, I say, steady on!

Don't worry, darling. I studied judo. I know every muscle in the human body.

- Alistair - Oh!

No... Oooh, no, wait.

- Did I hurt you, darling? - No, no. No.

Oooh...

We must meet tonight.

I can't. I do the Women's League of Health and Beauty Tuesdays.

- Tomorrow night? - Till then.

Oh, my darling.

Oh, darling!

Alistair!

Oh, my sweetheart!

Now, look here, William Wakefield, you'll get nowhere by wheeling and whining.

Be firm with her.

My staff, Miss Wheeler, is not in the habit of being drunk on duty.

The explanation is quite simple.

Some alcohol from the laboratory found its way into the staff room kettle.

It happens all the time.

No! Er...

These things happen.

Satisfied?

No.

I don't blame you.

(Clatter of typewriter keys)

What am I to tell her?

(Knock)

Ah, Mr Adams, my dear fellow. You have news for me?

Yes...no.

She sent for me, sir.

Heaven be praised! You've made an impact.

I see it all. She only pretends she wants to see you for a staff interview.

Routine, when all the time...

No, sir. I'm sorry, sir. Look, I just can't do it, sir.

I just...

You don't realise, sir, what this takes out of me.

But, Adams, you're on the threshold of three laboratories.

Sorry, sir. I just can't do it.

Not even if you gave me Harwell, sir.

You've got to go in there, please.

Make some excuse for me, sir. I...

I just can't do it. Get me out of it, please.

How can I explain after that bacchanalia this morning?

I'm in baulk. Your ball's in play.

Why, that's nothing but bank mail.

Black...moral-borral...moral blankmail, sir.

Let's face it, Adams.

This is plain, straightforward blackmail.

Th...three labs.

Get in there.

Come on, man. Come on, Adams, there's a good chap.

Sit down, please.

- Now, Mr Adams, just a few questions. - Yes?

I understand you built that rocket alone?

Yes. Oh, yes, yes.

And that you also constructed the lighting console for the school play?

Yes. Just a little job I knocked up.

You obviously devote a great deal of your spare time to school projects.

Yes, they keep me occupied in the evenings.

Fully?

F-f-fully?

Oh, I'm so sorry. Did I startle you?

(High-pitched) N-n-no.

(Deeper) No.

You're surely not intimidated by inspectors? We're not such ogres, you know.

At least..

I hope I'm not?

Thank you very much.

Miss Wheeler, have you any further questions you want to ask?

No.

- Thank you. - Oh, just a minute.

I always give the teachers an opportunity to question me on Ministry policy.

Or anything.

Anything.

Miss Wheeler, there is something

I wanted...

not to ask but to tell you.

Something that has been nagging at me.

Nagging, nagging at me.

So much so, in fact, that I've hardly been able to concentrate on what you were saying

because of it.

Miss Wheeler...

.I've hardly been able to take my eyes off you.

I hope you don't think I'm being personal?

Or presuming too much?

(High-pitched) But I... (Clears throat)

Miss Wheeler...

there is something I want to tell you.

You've got a nose on your face.

On your smart... Your smart!

(Gibbers)

- Milton, what sort of morning have you had? - Since you ask, exceptionally quiet.

Took my advice, eh? There's no doubt about it, firmness pays.

Miss Short, Milton! Something wonderful's happened!

- What? - Nothing. Nothing, that's just it.

Isn't it marvelous? I've taken two classes this morning and nothing's happened. Just teaching.

That's all. Cor. Whew, I've never felt so happy.

My, my, we are a happy lot this morning.

The girls, they're so cooperative. I've never known anything like it.

What a change in the children. It's just like a miracle.

- You two, too? - Tut tut! Such clumsy phrasing.

(Laughs) You two, too! Oh, tut tut!

It's been marvelous!

- Not a prank all morning. - The trouble's over, back to normal.

I say, just a minute. They might be lulling us into a false sense of security.

Oh, nonsense! It's because we've been firm.

- That's what's done it I always maintain... - Thank you and good night.

I'm trying to work on an idea for the crypt scene.

- Oh, creep off! - (Sniggers)

Excuse me, I've got to cake a phone...fake...telephone.

Well, it's wonderful to think that all our troubles are over.

Ooh! Owl

- Help him up! - Is this someone's idea of a joke?

Good grief, I might have hurt my spine. Well, it's so ridiculous!

(Parps) - Oh!

(Toots horn) Ah, trouble's over, eh?

Please!

What...?

I say,

look.

They've put piece polish all over the end boot of the ph...piece of the tele... Oh, no!

What's this? Argh!

Look, it's stuck!

Get...get...

Get off!

The dirty, little f...

fourth formers!

Firmness pays, does it?

I am going to report this to Mr Wakefield.

Help! Help!

My goodness! Come here!

Help!

MILTON: All right, give me your hand. - Aargh!

- Come on. - That's right. Now put your leg up.

Oh, look out!

Are you all right, Adams?

- Ridiculous practical jokes! - (Coughs and splutters)

Atchoo!

I'm going to Mr Wakefield.

Oh!

I'm going to insist!

(Crackle of electricity)

- Argh! - What on earth's going on in there?

Ohh! Argh!

Oh! Oh! Argh!

MISS SHORT: Argh!

Atchoo!

I can't stand any more!

I can't! (Screams hysterically)

What are you doing here, Stevens?

- Running an errand, miss. - Well, run.

Yes, miss.

You see, sir, these six children want to attend the exhibition

only when they know that Grigg and Wheeler will be there.

- Mm-hm. - Well, don't you see, sir?

They are the ringleaders.

Hmm. Seizing this opportunity to make trouble wherever Grigg and Miss Wheeler may be.

An alert, ingenious deduction, Miss Short. But not proof.

We'll watch them, get proof.

And then six of the best apiece.

I don't like caning, you know that.

And I like spying even less.

It's the only way.

Leave it to me. I'll arrange everything.

What did I tell you? They're onto us.

- They'll be watching us now. - That bloomin' notice!

That's that. All operations cancelled?

No! Good generals take advantage of setbacks, turn them into victories.

Now, that's what we'll do.

[ Wish to apply...

...for the post of Headmaster...

Aargh!

(Clatter of typewriter keys)

Sarah.

- Sarah, my darling. - It's all over.

- Over? But... But last night? - Excuse me, please, I want to leave the room.

- Sarah, darling, what have I done? - This!

That? That's changed your feelings towards me?

Do you think I, a teacher, could give my heart to the author of this treacherous tripe,

- this stab in the back to the entire profession? - How dare you! I studied in Vienna.

And I teach here. This is all mushy theory.

- I know children. - You know? What do you know?

You know it's easier to stand in the path of progress than meet new ideas halfway.

You're talking just like an ignorant, Victorian governess!

I'd rather be that than a namby-pamby, starry-eyed twerp!

You listen to me! I...

Sarah, we're arguing.

What a brilliant analysis!

We mustn't argue, no, no, Sarah. Let's...

Let's nothing. It's all over.

Over? But, darling, I love you. What am I going to do?

See Chapter Five!

Chapter Five?

What's the matter with Miss Allcock? She looks very distressed.

- Mr Grigg! - What?

Oooh! I...

I...I... No! Well, I found them in my pocket.

- All set? You know what to do this break? - Operation War Of Nerves.

OK, now watch your timing. Scatter.

Right now, you all know what to do?

Watch the suspects during this break.

Take them to Wakefield if we spot anything suspicious.

Well, you might sound a little keener.

This time, the search has narrowed down. We know who to watch. Those six.

- I'd planned something else during this break. - Me, too. Music doesn't write itself.

Oh, well, really, you might be a little more cooperative.

I promised Mr Wakefield.

I can't be expected to watch six children all by myself.

MILTON: Al right, we'll do our best. There's no need to get het up about it. I'm sorry.

(Bottle clinks)

Toluene?

Nitric acid?

Those add up to TNT.

(Hoarse whisper) Mr Wakefield!

Excuse me, sir. Can you give us a book on terrorism?

Yes.

Here you are - Bangs That Made History.

Thank you, sir.

Terrorism? Those two?

- What is it? - Ab-b-bomb.

- They're making a bomb. - I know.

- Milton! - Oh! Don't do that!

I've just heard Haig and Dale plotting an explosion.

Same here. Lee and Gordon.

- Oh, come on. - All right.

Silly fools!

I'm not going to waste my time. Huh!

It's all in my do-it-yourself book:

How To Make A Bomb.

Tut, tut, tut, tut...

Take a container, detonator,

sulphur, potassium nitrate and carbon.

Anyone can make gunpowder. You'll see.

I can't wait.

Mr Wakefield!

Mr Wakefield!

- Mr Wakefield! - She saw us all right.

Good.

Now, now, girls, you know you're not allowed in classrooms during break.

Bombs?

Why were you out-of-bounds in the stores room, Bird?

- Ask Mr Adams, sir. - Why ask me?

You know I'm interested in science, sir. I was just looking around.

- And the disturbed bottles? - Just reading the labels, sir.

- Did you remove any of the contents? - Why should I do that, sir?

To make a bomb.

Is Mr Adams feeling all right, sir?

Bird, tell the truth.

I am, sir. Look, why doesn't Mr Adams check the bottles?

- Check... - Yes, you'll not find anything missing.

- Have you done that, Mr Adams? - Well, no, sir...

- Kindly do so at once. - Yes, Mr Wakefield.

Wait in the next room, Bird.

Yes, sir.

Why did you borrow this book?

GIRL: Just for private study, sir.

We're doing modern history, sir. That's full of bangs.

Why were you in a classroom during break?

To get a bit of peace and quiet, sir, to read the book.

Why didn't you explain before running away?

Well, miss, there's been so much bad behaviour just lately,

we thought we'd be made an example of.

Where's the bomb?

BOTH: The what, miss?

The bomb. Bomb! Bomb, bomb, bomb!

♪ Bom, tiddly-om-pom, bom, bom!

Wait in the next room.

(Knock on door) - Come in!

What's all this about, sir?

You and Sheila were discussing the making of gunpowder.

- That's right, sir. - For Guy Fawkes Day.

That's not for months.

Well, we're always being told to plan ahead.

It won't work, Haig.

- It will! There's full instructions in this book. - I'm not talking about fireworks.

-Oh, I am. - We seem to be at cross-purposes here.

We do indeed. Now keep quiet and listen.

Your excuse is flimsy in the extreme considering...

Considering there's no smoke without fire.

Excuse me, miss, but that's the daftest proverb going.

I mean, sometimes there's whacking great clouds of smoke without so much as a spark.

- It all depends on what you want to believe. - Now, take propaganda.

Haig, Sheila.

Wait in the next room.

Well?

Could we possibly be mistaken, all of us?

No. Wait till Stevens is rounded up. He's the real ringleader. You'll see.

Will we? Or will we learn from children that quite often, and I quote,

"There's whacking great clouds of smoke without so much as a spark."

Unquote.

(Door opens)

(Door closes)

(Ticking)

A time bomb!

(Ticking continues)

(Alarm clock goes off) - Aaaargh!

(Pants and wheezes)

(Sighs)

Sarah, where are the extra chairs?

I wouldn't be surprised if the little darlings were chopping them up for a bonfire.

- Charming! - I'd better check.

Hmm. Come on, buck up, you lot! We'll never get the curtain up at this rate.

- Miss Allcock. - Please go away, I'm very busy.

You must listen, I've got the whole thing analysed.

Take your hands off me, Mr Grigg. You know I've studied judo.

I love you and you love me.

Because it happened so quickly, you feel robbed of the exquisite tensions of courtship.

- Let go! - Your rejection is an elaborate psychic ruse

to provoke the ritual of courtship.

But it's too late for that. Our love is too certain. You know I'm right. Don't try and shift me.

Come along, children! Stop larking about!

But I love you, Miss Allcock.

(Knocks)

(Door opens)

- Mr Adams. - Miss Wheeler, I want to talk to you.

- Right now? - Right now. Sit down, please.

- But there's a meeting. - Sit down.

Miss Wheeler, I've worked the whole thing out scientifically.

- Mr Adams, whatever are you talking about? - Us.

- Us? - Miss Wheeler, I love you.

Do you?

- Don't question the facts. I's most unscientific. - Oh, I'm sorry.

I dare say, though, you'd like to know the background to this fact?

- If you don't mind? - Of course.

During the last few days,

I have attempted to pay court...

I believe that's the correct term?

10 pay court to you.

These attempts, for reasons I shall explain later, were not genuinely based.

Therefore they failed.

I escaped in confusion, resolved never to attempt the experiment again.

After the last attempt, however,

an extraordinary reaction set in.

Far from never wanting to see you again...

.I was progressively...

...gripped by a panic

that I wouldn't ever be alone with you again.

And I wanted to be with you.

A hard, aching want.

So here I am.

Well, that is the background to the fact I mentioned to you just now, Miss Wheeler.

The fact that after...

...an uncertain and wrong beginning,

I have now actually...

fallen...

in love with you, Miss Wheeler.

I must have done, to feel the way I feel now.

How do you feel?

Your collar's frayed.

There's a button missing on your jacket and your hair wants cutting.

You need looking after.

I'd like to do that.

Oh, Felicity.

May I... May I hold you?

It's necessary - scientifically.

Marry me.

I didn't muddle one phrase, did I?

Well, you couldn't very well muddle that last one, thank goodness.

Felicity, there's something I've got to tell you, explain.

Later. We really must go to that meeting.

GRIGG: The logical... I mean, with the underlying feeling...

I don't understand. If you take your attitude...

(Silence falls)

Ladies, gentlemen.

This meeting has been called at the urgent request of Mr Grigg.

Now, there's very little time before the school play performance.

- So, without further ado, Mr Grigg. - Thank you.

I um... I leave Maudlin Street tomorrow with my research work incomplete.

It's obvious, I think, that four days is woefully inadequate

in which to study the phenomenon of behaviour patterns at this school.

That's... That's where you come in.

You five teachers, you seem to have been at the centre of the week's events.

I propose to consult with you all at length during the school hols,

to draw on your experience and your opinions.

After all,

you...

...you know the children, you're here all the time as practicing teachers.

Eee!

To start with, however, I'd be grateful for your preliminary thoughts here and now.

That doesn't mean that I haven't a preliminary theory of my own.

Your imperturbable...

Your er...imperturbable acting headmaster doesn't altogether agree with me,

but if's...

it's my belief we're...

witnessing a mass juvenile hysteria...

Oh! Argh!

"UH...

...unknown since the children's crusades of...

...of er...the M-M-M...Middle Ages!

Thank you, Mr Grigg.

Before throwing this open to the meeting,

I'd like to make my position...

...my position clear.

The essence of hysteria

is, in my view...

that it's sustained

and continuous.

Here, it's been...

spasmodic.

For example, since this morning's bomb hoax,

things have been quiet,

free from irritation,

for all of us.

Miss Allcock, you wish to make your views known?

Physical exercise, that's the answer.

There's nothing like it for working off potentially dangerous surplus energy.

It's all in the spine, you know.

Oh, you're so right.

There's a wonderful new exercise. I'll show you.

Argh! Ohh...

That looks wonderful. May I join you?

- Oh, be my guest! - Thank you.

Oh, it's marvelous.

Oh! (Laughs)

Miss Allcock! Mr Adams!

Sit down!

Please sit down!

Mr Milton, haven't you something to say?

Oh!

As I said, sir, the woeful lack of extra-curricular, intellectual activity...

- Ooh, ooh, ha, ha! - ..is causative in this matter.

- A mock parliament, sir, debating societies. - Neeeargh!

It's intellectual stimulation of this kind that's required to satisfy the juvenile itch.

- Gyaar, ha, ha! - Shut up, you jackass!

Sorry, I can't help it. You see, I get all...

Ooooh, ah, hee, hee!

Mr Bean!

- You and your psychiatry! - Miss Short!

The baa lambs have drenched your very room in itching powder!

How does he analyse that?

- Scratch my back, please! - Never!

You suffer!

Oh, please! Help! Help me!

MISS ALLCOCK: Oh, please! Scratch my back!

Oh, Mir Wakefield, do scratch my back!

Mr Wakefield!

(Orchestra plays out of tune)

MAN: Sh!

(Dirge-like music continues)

If music be the food of love...

belt up.

All right, now this is the biggest operation so far. Now, make it good. That's all.

(Laughter)

(Gales of laughter)

Oh, I'm terribly sorry... Oh, dear.

Get off, get off

- But the curtain's up. - Get off!

- This is my bit. You get off! - Don't you tell me what to do...

(Laughter)

Two households, both alike in dignity...

(Music continues)

Shut up! I'm on!

In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,

Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean...

Oh, can't you follow a cue sheet? It's simple enough. What a star! What a start!

(Music stops)

That's better.

From forth the fatal loins of these two foes,

a pair of star-crowd lovers take their life.

(String section plays out of tune)

- I never touched a switch. - Did you?

- No! - Don't talk to Felicity like that!

Oh, so it's Felicity now, is it? Now I understand.

- What? - What you were touching at the time.

- How would you like a punch on the nose? - Sh! The play!

MR ADAMS: Shut up, will you? MISS WHEELER: Don't you talk to me like that!

- I shouldn't be here! I'm going! - You stay where you are! Look...

The music! Flamin' theme!

Psst!

Pssst!

(Laughter) - What?

Toy with your dagger.

Eh?

Toy with the blade.

Sorry, can't hear you, Mr Milton! Excuse me.

(Laughter)

Go back!

- Go back! - Well, make up your mind, do!

Oh!

(Music grinds to a halt)

But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?

(Goblets clang on the floor)

(Laughter) - It is the East and Juliet the sun.

Oh, Romeo, Romeo!

Wherefore art thou, Romeo?

- Oh, sorry! - It's all right, carry on.

Deny thy father and produce thy name.

Or if thou wilt not, be but for my love and I'll no longer be a Capulet.

Well, come on, isn't anyone going to help me?

Oh, no! No!

- Stand sill! - You're pulling me!

- To you, that's it! - Put it back!

Do I have to wait up here all night?

Juliet did, so wilt thou belt up?

Oh, water! Brandy!

Argh!

Oh, ta!

Ta?

After all I've taught them.

- That's all right. - Glad to help.

- Now, where were we? - And I'll no longer be a Capulet.

Shall I hear more? Shall I speak at this?

(Audience laughter continues)

Go hence to have more talk of these sad things.

Some shall be pardoned and some punished.

For never was a story of more woe.

Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.

Careful!

(Laughter)

Get the curtain down!

Aaargh!

- The wires must be crossed! - Get it down! Pull it down! Burn it down!

Only, get it down!

- Oh, come on! - Aargh!

Gordon! Thomson!

Turn it off!

Thomson, try and get the thing turned off!

Ladies and gentlemen, I'm afraid

But I'm sure if you bear with us for a moment,

it seems that two wires have become crossed.

And I wish I were dead. Bean!

(Music continues)

Milton!

Aaaargh!

Mr Wakefi-i-ield!

Mr Wake... Argh!

You're getting overconfident.

Nobody on watch.

Let's see what you have in store for end-of-term prize-giving, shall we?

Tut, tut! Same trick as before?

Your inventiveness is flagging.

Itching powder? Again?

You are repeating yourselves.

I suppose the piano is rigged to collapse during the school song?

Flour again?

Couldn't you have found some soot just for a change?

You will dismantle these amusing tricks at once.

In 20 years, I have never punished anyone on the last day of term.

But you boys will report to me immediately after prize-giving.

Clear?

Take 'em down.

Come on, let's clear up.

Haven't you anything to say for yourselves?

Oh!

Stevens.

Sir, wait! Wait!

- It's all a mistake, sill - I'll do you.

Thanks to Penelope's common sense in approaching me...

- Don't listen to her, sir. - Be quiet, Stevens!

Miss Short, what did Penelope say to justify this intrusion?

She has told me, sir,

the reason for this week's untoward events.

Mr Wakefield, these children discovered you were planning to leave.

They don't want you to leave.

If's as simple as that

They feel, as does the entire school,

that Maudlin Street wouldn't be the same without you.

They thought of getting up a petition,

but decided that wasn't certain to succeed.

Besides, such an action was considered by them to be soft.

Not the Maudlin Street way.

So, with all the circumstances in their favour,

they decided to make sure

you would never obtain a post anywhere else,

and launched their campaign to that end...

...with the whole school behind them.

You may wish to proceed with punishing these boys.

Personally...

...would count my years in the profession well spent

if they do half as much to make me stay among them.

Now I know there's something to child psychiatry.

Oh, I do love you.

Oh, there, there, there.

But if any of our kids deserve a thick ear, they get it, right?

Of course.

Well... Oh, just between you and me, I realised long ago that...

free expression is just the thing for other people's children.

There he is!

ALL: We want Wakey!

We want Wakey!

We want Wakey! We want Wakey!

We want Wakey!

We want Wakey! We want Wakey...

(Chanting continues)

We want Wakey! We want Wakey!

(Chants continue)

We want Wakey!

(Chanting dies down)

Have a good holiday.

All of you.

See you next term.

(Cheering)