All language subtitles for The Darling Buds of May s03e03 Cast Not Your Pearls Before Swine 1.eng

All ready for the big day, are we? All
present and correct, Mr Larkin. Good.

We start on Friday, if my memory serves.

That is correct, Vic.

Are you having a sod -cutting ceremony,
Mr Larkin? Yeah, certainly am, Vic.

Lovely idea.

One thing I wanted to ask.

What shape is the pool to be?

Well, pool -shaped pool.

I see a lot of people going for novelty
shapes these days.

I've done a heart -shaped one for a
screen idol.

I've done a piano -shaped one for a
pianist.

And I've done a bean -shaped one.

Bean -shaped one? Who's that for?

For a runner, Mr Larkin.

Think about it, Mr Larkin. You can have
any shape you like at a little extra

cost. Can I?

Why don't I get you a brochure, and then
you can choose one.

Yeah.

By the way, we're more.

It's splendid to see you.

Edith, you look perfectly charming
today.

You really think so? Yes, I do, and all,
and highly kissable, if I may say.

Oh, yes, but it's got to be earned.

I need you to do me a favour.

Well, name it, dear man. If it's humanly
possible, I shall do it.

Oh, it's humanly possible, all right.

I need you to hide something for me.

The Punxsutawney Show.

How perfectly charming.

It's for Mars' birthday. It's a
surprise.

Now, have you got somewhere where we can
put it?

Yes, I think I have.

Good, right. So, Edith, here you take
the little dolls and lead on.

Right -o.

Nothing I'd dare.

The Punxsutawney Show for Mrs Larkin's
birthday.

Yeah, I know. I thought it was a good
idea and all.

Rather dark, I'm afraid.

Oh, here we are.

All right.

All right.

All right, Edith. You managed.

Oh, this is perfect, isn't it?

Absolutely.

Oh, gracious me.

I'm all right, I'm all right.

Who's going to do the show for you?

Well, I am, Edith, I am.

Stay there, I'll show you how to do it.

That's the way to do it.

That's the way to do it.

Oh, who's a pretty girl then?

Who's a pretty girl? Oh, Mr Larkin,
that's fair.

Come on, give us a kiss.

Oh, give me a kiss. Come on, give me a
kiss. Give me a kiss. Very good, Mr

Larkin, you do it to the man of war.

Mrs Larkin's a very lucky woman to have
you.

Oh.

Oh. Oh, yes.

Would you like a cup of tea?

Well, no, thank you.

I'd better be on my way.

I've got things to do.

Stop fidgeting, Victoria. Do. I'm trying
to do your nose.

Time for a drink. Where's your father?

I'm here, Ma.

It's good.

What's that supposed to be there?

That's her nose.

Oh, get us a guinea pig.

I will. Two shakes of a lamb's tail.

First of all, I want to show you
something. Wait, everybody over here,

look at the designs for the swimming
pool. Come on.

Lovely. Yeah.

Have a look at this. There they are.
Look.

Which ones do you like best? Oh.

I like that one. Mm -hmm. Because it's
shaped like a heart.

Yes. Which one do you fancy?

Here's one I like.

That's the one I like. Oh. That one?
Yeah.

It reminds me of Mark.

Oh, you know.

That's more like Diana Dawes. I'm more
round -shaped, you ask me.

Yeah, well, that's how I see you, Ma.

Shall I tell you what I really fancy?

I fancy something more classy with sort
of marble and pillars.

Like that in ancient Rome.

That's a fantastic idea, Ma.

Yes, with the fountains and the statues.

Perfect.

Mark, have you seen Edith lately?

No. Something wrong?

Yeah.

Not thick?

No, nothing like that.

There's something not quite tickety
-boo.

Like what?

Well, like... Like she's got one of
those dresses, you know, like it's got

pimples all over it.

See you, sucker.

Mark, language, please.

No, it's the name of the material.

Seersucker. It's all the rage. Was all
the rage.

A few years back with young girls.

Shouldn't have thought it was quite
Edith's style, huh?

It isn't. It's very upsetting.

She's got one of these bows in her hair
with roses on it.

And she's taken to wearing make -up.

Pink lipstick.

Well, you know those signs well as I do.

Edith's got it bad for a man. Another
man.

Edith, another man?

You're jealous, isn't he, Larkin?

I'm not jealous. Yes, you are. You're
jealous she's got another boyfriend.

You think so?

Plain as the hand in front of your face.

No, never.

Why don't you ask her?

I will.

I'll invite her to the party and see if
she wants to bring anyone.

Oh, Larkin, how's it been?

Thank you for coming to your Prince and
Judy show.

Now, as a matter of fact, I'd like to
leave that here with you until the day

Myles' birthday, if that's OK. Of
course. No, er...

There was something I wanted to ask you.

Well, in that case, why don't you come
in? I've just put the kettle off. Oh,

lovely.

Make yourself at home.

Actually, I called round to invite you
to Ma's birthday party.

Of course.

Um... I wonder... If I... Well, you
know, you, yourself,

anyone else you'd like to bring?

Lady friend or gentleman friend?

Why, thank you so much, dear man.

I should adore to bring George.

George? Oh, because you haven't met
George, have you?

No. Dear, sweet, humorous, handsome,
charming, gallant George.

Steady on, steady on, Edith. He can't be
all bad.

He must have a few good points as well.

Awful man.

You'll adore George.

He's led a fascinating life.

About ten.

Ten in the morning?

Well, yes, there's an awful lot to get
through, isn't there?

There's sod cutting, a Mars birthday
cake, Punch and Judy, moon rockets,

reading.

Poetry reading?

Primrose is reading a poem, especially
chosen for the occasion.

Oh, sorry.

Oh, marvellous.

Yes, and of course there's all the
introductions to get through with

I must admit, Edith, I'm a little
jealous.

Oh, you mustn't be.

There'll always be a place in my
affections for you, in the innermost

of my soul.

But my heart must be reserved for
George.

You do understand, don't you?

Yes, of course, Edith.

You mean our passionate embraces of past
times must be strictly ingenue?

George must never know of my past
indiscretions.

My lips are sealed.

It would be too ghastly if we found out.

Could make his blood boil.

His passionate Irish blood.

Oh, he's Irish, is he?

Who is he? Oh, be garrot, pour me a pint
to get us one of them. No, he's not

that sort of Irish.

He's from a different part of Ireland, I
think.

But he speaks just like us.

Well, like me, anyway.

Well, it's hard to explain, but you'll
see what I mean when you meet him.

Like this, look.

Look at this.

It's the one from Charlie and Mary,
isn't it? Oh, look at this.

Oh, lovely.

Oh, it's been signed by Mademoiselle
Dupont. Look, love and best wishes right

from everyone at the Bow River.

Lovely.

There we are. Who wants the card?

With the special stampio. Yeah, you can.

Lovely.

Happy birthday, Ma.

Thank you, darling.

Open mine.

And another one. Here we go.

Thank you. I love love, though he has
wings, and like light can flee.

But above all other things, spirit, I
love thee.

Thou art love and life.

O come, make once more my heart thy
home.

All right?

All right.

Come on, let's go.

Move yourself.

Hello,

little girl. What's your name?

My name's Primrose, and I'm not a little
girl. I'm 18.

And I'm Elvis Presley. You're never 18.

Roger! I'm Roger McGarry, Scouse person
and undiscovered poet.

A poet?

Oh, aye.

What are you reading, then?

Oh, Palgrave. I particularly like
Shelley.

Terrible load of old rubbish.

Old Wild West wind, our breath of
autumn's being. Shelley's soft.

He's not soft.

He's so romantic, so poetic.

Here.

Try this.

It's Stevie Smith.

Check out page 34.

Not waving, but drowning.

Now that's a poem.

Great. Come on, boys.

One just here.

No. Oh, God, it's a rose.

Now I've seen everything.

Edith hit the ruddy jackpot.

Mr and Mrs Larkin,

this is George Haran.

Delighted. And these are for you,
madame, on your birthday.

Lovely. Thank you, George.

Indeed.

How do you do? Oh, how do you do? Yes.

Oh.

Perfect present, George.

Yes.

Well, let's go inside and start the
celebrations.

Would you like to come this way?

Thank you, that's very kind.

Right,

Edith. He's got a few good points.

How did you meet him?

Jim Carver, Commissioner.

Hair and hands.

George is in the bar.

He did it off immediately.

Love at first sight, was it?

First it was, really.

Here's to everlasting love, then, Edith.

And I like his rolls.

He's very comfortable.

But it's not as sweet as yours.

It hasn't got a speaking tube.

Oh.

Oh, well.

Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to

you. Happy birthday, Mrs. Lockheed.
Happy

birthday to you.

Thank you, my darling.

Happy birthday, Ma.

And here's to 20 more of them.

All right, then, come on.

Don't forget, make a wish.

Here we go.

Go on.

Many happy returns, Mrs Larkin. Many
congratulations.

So, what did you think of the poem?

Well, it's different.

Yeah. It's real.

Here you are.

Oh, I say, like an old chap, this really
is most frightfully good. What do you

call this one?

It's called a moon rocket, George.

It's got something, hasn't it?

Do I detect the soups of Kirsch?

You do.

And rum?

Yes. No, no, wait, look.

Come on in, George, come on in.

What else is in there, eh? Come on.

Rye whiskey, bourbon.

Vodka. Yes!

That's perfect. That's exactly what it's
got in it.

It's good in it.

I tell you, Larkin. Yes?

I've got one that'll give this one a run
for its money. It's an Irish

thoroughbred, which I call the Malahide
Mauler.

Oh, the Malahide Mauler. Right, come on
then, George.

We'll have some of that.

No, I daren't make it up to you yet.

Not before you cut the first sod.

Don't want you falling down the hole.

Here

we

are. This is where it's going to be.
Everybody gather around here.

Here we are. Ready, chaps?

Ready, Mr. Larkin.

Give me what for? There we go.

Good luck. The first part of the pool.

Here we go.

Great addition to the programme for
today.

Roger's going to read one of his own
poems.

Oh, I say, bravo.

You're hiring poets now.

The Pool.

A poem.

One night you said you wanted me to swim
into your arms.

So I built a pool.

Dug it with the shovel of my hopes.

Sealed it with the grouting of my
dreams.

And filled it up to brimming with my
love.

It don't rhyme, Mark.

I mean, it can't be a poem if it don't
rhyme.

And when I had it finished, anticipating
breast and back and butterfly.

You crept up behind me with your new
love and pushed me in.

Now I'm drowning in the pool of my own
tears.

The end.

I like the bit about the breast and back
and butt flight.

Don't tell Pop and Ma about the
Liverpool scene, Roger.

It's the most exciting thing, Ma. I hope
you have a more traditional attitude to

concrete structures than you do to rhyme
and meter, young man.

Certainly, though a good poem will
outlast the pool any time.

Roger knows all about Wordsworth and Dan
and Shelley. He just thinks they're

soft. Well, not all of them, but... No,
I... Well, we like to write in a style

that mirrors the speech of today and the
place where we come from.

If you're a poet, how come you're
building swimming pools?

It's just a summer job.

Hey, I'd better be getting back to it.

Yeah, this poetry lark's on my time.
Come on, off you go.

Right, now's the time for Ma's surprise.

Yes, come on, come in the house, Ma.
Come on in the house. Yes, because it's

surprise. No peeking. Go on, get in
there.

Come on, George.

Come and get it down. Let's get this
show on the road.

Oh!

Pop's got his surprises ready, Ma.

Oh, lovely.

What's he been up to?

Yeah, bring that plate of sandwiches,
Victoria.

Don't want people going hungry.

See you off at Moon Rocky.

The Malahide Mauler.

That's the one, that's the one. All
right?

Oh, dear, oh, dear.

George, that is the business of no
mistake.

It is, isn't it?

It's the Irish whiskey, you see. It
packs a different kind of punch.

If you'll forgive the pun.

Punch, yes. I like it. I like this too.
It's a lovely colour, isn't it? That

green, yeah?

That's like the Emerald Isle.

Yeah, that's the cure of sorrow.

Oh, when, old chap?

You don't want to put me on my ear, do
you? Edith would never forgive me. Oh,

Edith. Don't worry about Edith.

She's a great sport, Edith.

She's a splendid girl. Yeah.

Life had no meaning before I met her.

Very fond.

Thinking of engagement.

Well, that's fairly cause for another,
eh?

Not a word to the ladies, old chap.
Haven't breathed it to anyone.

I don't suppose you and Mrs Larkin would
care to come to my place for dinner one

evening, would you?

I'm sure Edith would come over and cook
for us if I asked her nicely.

Consider that an honour and a pleasure,
George.

Good.

I will have another then, if it's all
the same.

Dodger! How are you with them bricks?

Coming.

Hello, little girl, and what's your
name? I know, you're not a little girl,

you're a big girl like your big sister.

Are you in love with Primrose?

Nah.

She's in love with you, moving around,
saying your name, and writing silly love

poems.

Wordsworth, hurry within bricks.

I'm coming.

Would you do something for me, please?

Well, I might do, if you give me one of
them toffees.

Never thought we'd see the inside of
this place.

No.

It's funny Tom Garnet leaving like that
without a word.

Yeah, I know.

Mind you, he always was a bit of an
oddball, wasn't he?

Someone's cooking something, isn't it?

More

souffle,

Mrs Larkin?

No, no, thank you, Edith.

Better luck.

Well,

thank you, Edith. No, thank you.

George. Oh, no, you've beaten me, yum
-yum.

Oh, dear.

It was delicious, Edith.

And on a strange stove, too.

Do you care for a brandy, Larkin?

Oh, yes, please, George.

That would be the perfect end to a
perfect meal.

Goodbye, this house, George.

Fine property.

George bought it for cash.

Really? Well, there's a man after me own
heart.

Funny, Tom Garnet, selling up like that.

I think he needed the cash.

Retired, is he?

Believe, sir.

He could afford to on the money I paid
him.

Shall we leave the gentleman to their
brandies, Mrs Larkin?

Oh, thank you. I'd like a private word
with Sidney.

We'll come in shortly.

I haven't got a thought of you, Edith.

Hi,

George. What was it you wanted to talk
to me about?

I want to talk to you about pigs.

Pigs?

About buying pigs.

Oh, well.

Oh, thanks, George. I've already got
some.

I'm talking about a lot of pigs.

200 fine, fat porkers.

An entire piggery, in fact.

Good Lord, George, you're the last man I
would expect to hear going on about

porkers. Are you serious?

Perfectly serious.

Blimey, George, I'm not a pig farmer, am
I?

I mean, I'm a... Well, I'm a... Well,
I'm certainly not a pig farmer.

Why would I want to do such a thing?

Money.

Lots of money.

What, made out of pigs?

I can help you make an absolute fortune
with almost no work on your part.

I take care of all the details, you just
pay for the piggies, then sit back and

after a couple of months you count the
lolly.

Oh.

Now, simple enough, Mo.

George wants to get into pigs and he
wants me to get in with him too.

Why should we want to get involved in
pigs?

Well, according to George, the Ministry
of Agriculture is trying to boost the

old English porker so it can compete,
you know, with its Danish cousin.

So they're offering a fiver subsidy on
every pig raised.

That's what I call a bonus.

Yeah, so...

Now, George, he's got Tom Garrett's
place. You might think, well, he could

as many pigs as he likes. You know, he
could raise, say, a couple of thousand

he wanted to, but... Oh, it's a tax.

Well, it is, isn't it?

The Ministry of Agriculture says that
each farmer can only raise 200 pigs

Why?

I don't know. How's it not the reason
why?

How's it to do or die?

Anyway, this is where I come in.

See, I buy 200 pigs and keep them till
the Ministry of Agriculture's inspectors

verify that they're all right.

How long will that take?

I don't know, a month, you know, no
more.

Then George buys them back off me at the
same price I paid for them.

You know, he takes them off me hands.

And we split the bonus.

500 smackers for him, 500 smackers for
me.

All legal and above board.

It's good, eh, Mark?

You're looking a bit worried.

There's something about him, Sid.

Well, I know I should like him, but I
can't... I can't get to feel right about

him somehow.

I know what you want.

What?

An alibi for more.

I just wondered if you'd like to come up
and see my piggies.

Get you used to the idea, so to speak.

See what 200 piggies look and sound
like. And smell like poo.

Man is Victoria.

Help you make up your mind.

Just while they're settling in, till
their tummies get used to the idea.

Oh, I see.

George tells me they're terribly
sociable.

Certainly excitable.

Especially the piglets. They're rather
like my girl guides, really.

That's true.

Yeah, I know more.

Just think, a few weeks of the old ping
-pong and then 500 smackers in our end.

Old George is a topper, no mistake.

This way?

Yep. All right, here we go then.

Catch him, quick!

He's not funny at all.

It's me.

It's me, me, me. Not a he, it's a she.

All the piglets are she's. Come and have
a look.

Well, then, I shall call them Swimrose,
Violet, Iris and Enemy, Magnolia. Yes,

that's all right. That's enough,
Victoria. Come on.

Once more into the breach, dear friends.

Careful.

You're happy as a pig in a piggery, are
you, Edith?

Seven foot four.

Ten foot three.

No!

Keep that stick straight!

Why did you do that, you malevolent
little child? Because it's fun.

Have you finished my poem yet?

I haven't even started it, I'm afraid.
There hasn't been much time to entertain

the muse.

Oh, goody, cos I've got a new subject.

It's about five little piglets.

I met them up at George's.

There's one other thing.

They have names. I wrote them down.

Here.

Violet, Anemone, Iris, Magnolia,
Primrose.

You named one of them after your sister,
have you?

Is she going to like this?

She won't mind, honestly.

You're soft, you are.

But it's a challenge.

Give me that.

Now, go on out, Fred, with the cement
mixing.

All right, all right.

This is your last chance.

OK, keep your shirt on.

Mr

Larkin.

That's me.

Brunsbottom is the first of your 200
pigs.

Oldest by piglets as well. Oh, Billy.

By piglets, eh?

Well,

there we are, Mark.

Pig farmer now.

Makes you feel close to Mother Earth,
doesn't it? It certainly does, Pop.

All right, where do I sign?

Right there, Mr Larkin, if you're
satisfied.

Oh, yes, I'm satisfied. All right, there
you are, Larkin. All right, thanks.

Now, where do you want to sign, David?
Oh, in my barn, round the back.

Look, get your lads to follow me. I'll
show you where I want to go. Come on,

boys.

100, and that's 200, Mr Ramsbottom. All
right, thank you, Mr Larkin. So, sign

the papers you've got there.

I'll be off. Oh, sure you don't want a
little something before you go?

No, I'd better not. All right, goodbye
then. All right. And good luck.

Good muck, more like.

Breakfast.

Just off to school, sweetheart.

Just leaving, Pop. Have a nice day.

Hey,

now,

that I understood.

Hello,

Roger. Oh, there you are. Hiya, primmy.

I wish you wouldn't call me that.

Why don't you like it?

Oh, well, I thought it was rather
friendly of myself.

I don't want to be friends.

Well, that makes four of you, then,
because Vic and Fred and Ted don't want

be my friends either.

So why are you set on enmity, Primrose?

I'm not set on enmity.

It's just I'd like us to be more than
friends.

I think you're so difficult to explain,
so I've written a poem.

Well, let's see it, then.

No, I'd rather read it to you.

Oh, well, read on, then.

Poem. For Roger.

He's a bit of a dodger, Roger.

At least that's what Vic says.

When he sits and talks to me, underpops
spreading walnut tree.

But I don't agree.

To me, he's A -OK, Roger, over and out.

Well, well.

That's really good, Primrose.

You like it?

No. But you said it was really good.

Yeah. So how can you not like it?

Because it's not you.

It's not your voice, Primrose.

It's my voice.

It's like it's a... It's a brilliant
copy, Primi.

You know, you caught all the cadences,
all the style. I'm really impressed.

But poetry's... Real poetry is about
finding your own voice.

But I'll never find a voice here.

It's so quiet.

Darl, I want to find it in Liverpool.

I want to go there with you.

No, you can't go there with me.

Roger, why not?

Because I'm working here with Vic for
the whole summer, remember?

And I'd better get back to him or he's
going to be after me again.

All present and correct then, Mr Tarby.

They seem healthy enough.

Of course, we need the best quality
stock if we're to compete with Danish

imports. Oh, yes, Mr Tarby, absolutely.

I'm not too happy about the state of
that barn.

Top quality pigs deserve top quality
accommodation.

Yes, Mr Tarby, I see what I can do, yes.

Right, I'll return in three weeks to
confirm the bonus on live pigs.

There's something I wanted to ask you.

Why is it we're only allowed 200 pigs?

Tosh, read the regulations.

Have as many as you like, provided you
can house them and feed them.

Good work, Ted.

Grazie. Good work, Fred.

Grazie. Good work.

Where's he gone now?

I... Poet, are you going to write
poetry?

All right, that's it.

That's one too many this time.

Roger the dodgers for the sack.

Oi!

Primrose, stop!

Would you like to read my poem?

You can't write poems.

Actually, Roger wrote it for me.

Shall I recite it to you? I know how you
like his poetry.

Go on, then.

Pig poem by Roger McGarry.

Five little piggies not going to the
market, far too sensible, want to stay

alive.

Primrose, violet, tyrus, anemone,
magnolia, intended to fight.

You little pig!

Primrose?

Primrose? Hey, come on.

What's up with my little girl, eh?

Ma?

Ma, could you come in here, please? We
need a bit of help.

Heavens above, sweetheart, you are a...

Tell us what's up, darling.

It's Roger.

So how does that boy have been bad to
you, is he? No, that's just it. He's

lovely to me. Yes, he's a nice boy, I
said so.

What's the matter, my little chicken,
eh?

Well, first Victoria got him to make up
a poem about piglets.

Yeah, what's wrong with that?

Now she's gone and called five of our
piglets by my names as well. It's not

fair.

Don't worry. I'll talk to that wicked,
cruel child.

And I'll explain to Roger as well.

He'll be all right. He'll understand.

He won't.

He can't. Why can't he?

Because he's not here to explain to her.
Where's he gone?

for being lazy.

But he wasn't lazy.

He was thoughtful and idealistic and
romantic.

Now he's gone back to Liverpool and I'll
never see him again in my life.

Go after her, Ma.

Looks like she's got a serious crush on
that boy.

Let him in, darling.

Yes.

It's awful, isn't it, when you want the
stars and you can't have them?

Don't you fret.

One of these days...

They're going to fall down out the sky
and make a crown for your pretty head.

You've got a voice, Ma.

Like Roger said, I'd have one day.

You had a crush on him.

I can't say I blame you.

It wasn't just a crush, Ma.

I love him.

Did he feel the same about you?

I don't know.

Nightingale.

They're singing to each other. They're
happy just to be alive.

Maybe it's for the best he's gone.

Love will come soon enough.

It'll bring great things, fabulous
things.

But it'll take things away too.

Never give them back.

Listen.

You'll never be 16 and listening to
Nightingales again.

Live the life you've got, Primrose, as
full as you can, every minute

of it.

Love will come soon enough.

Like it did for me and Pop.

Marriott, too, in the time.

It'll come.

Soon enough.

Victoria.

I want a word with you, young lady.

Yes, Pop?

Now, I don't think you're playing fair.

What? What?

It's bad enough you calling five of
George's little piglets by your sister's

names, but it's even worse making fun of
her with that poem lock in front of

Roger, especially knowing how she feels
about him. Stop it.

But it's downright wicked, you calling
five of our piglets by our names as

But I haven't renamed them, Pop.

What do you mean?

They're the same five little piglets I
made up with at George's place.

Eh?

Look.

This one's Primrose. This one's Violet.
This one's Iris.

This one's Enemy.

Are you sure?

Certain. See?

She's got a mole in the same place as
Vinnie -er.

Are you certain?

These are the same five little piglets
that were up at George's place.

Positive, Pop. And their mum's here as
well.

Oh, God, if you're right, sweetheart.

Just as I feared.

Not a sausage.

I've been diddled.

Where are George's pigs?

I've got them.

I don't know exactly how George's scheme
works, but I do know it's a con.

What a con artist, eh, Ma?

Fooled me completely.

Well, there's not many can do that.

No.

Got to hand it to him, though.

Pulling one over on me.

You've got to laugh.

What are you going to do?

I don't know, Ma.

I'll tell you one thing, though.

Got enough bacon to last the year.

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