All language subtitles for Alfred Hitchcock s04e13 Six People, No Music.eng

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.

In the television business, it's
extremely difficult to keep both feet on

ground. I'd be happy if I had just one
foot down there.

If you think this is easy, you should
see me trying to get through a doorway.

And yesterday I accidentally stepped
through a window.

If my arm hadn't caught in the sash, I
might still be going.

And that's not all.

Twice I've been mistaken for a
dirigible.

They keep trying to deflate me.

I'm certain by now you've guessed that
tonight's play is about gravity and

people who resist the Earth's pull.

You're wrong.

It's about an undertaker and one of the
persons he undertakes.

And it begins in just a moment.

Like a lamb.

Those

Hollywood

dames. Just kills me.

Six, seven husbands before they're 30.

What are you doing?

What does it look like?

How many did you have before you got
home?

A man takes one drink.

Who are you kidding?

You smell like a distillery.

Maybe if you knew what happened to me
today, you wouldn't begrudge me.

Don't even think I should tell you.

The lamb's ready.

Rhoda, I got a terrible problem.

Maybe it was all those extra slugs.

Slugs, not clubs.

I'm telling you, this is a crisis.

Why don't you watch up here and save
time? The movie goes on at 7 .10, and I

like to be there for the beginning.

I'm not hungry.

If you'd have told me that in time, I
could have saved three hours in the

kitchen. Far as I'm personally
concerned, delicatessen suits me soon as

Rhoda!

What about tomorrow?

You cook a leg of lamb, and I'll get
crocked and not eat.

You're not listening.

All right, I'm listening.

So what's the big crisis?

You see this?

Oh, no.

The whole thing.

It's impossible.

Hanson C.

Barravale.

The department store?

If you'd read anything but those gossip
columns, you'd know that he died last

night. Arthur, maybe you'd better begin
at the beginning.

All right, I will.

Only no interruptions.

Because this thing is too complicated to
complicate further.

Who's interrupting?

I got to the office this morning.

As usual, about nine.

I didn't know whose car it was, but I
did know it meant business.

Big business.

Morning.

Someone to see me?

Since quarter of.

Fulton Agnew of Agnew and Agnew.

Oh, the... the... the law firm.

The reason I stopped by, I felt a phone
call wouldn't tell me enough.

About what, sir?

Character of the play. Oh, well, the
same as it told me in the last 23 years,

sir. Exactly what interested me.

You see, we represent the late Stanton
C. Barravale.

He was a fine man, sir.

An important man, Motherwell.

To be perfectly frank, most of the heirs
took it for granted that Schwabica

would handle the funeral. But Mrs.
Berryvale asked me to look into some of

older parlors. She thought her husband
might have preferred it that way. I did

go to school with him, sir, through
sixth grade.

And it would be a real honor.

You think you can handle it?

Certainly. I mean prestige -wise.

The size of an operation is one thing.

Taste can be quite another.

You can depend upon it, sir. I run a
very personal business.

In that case, I'll relay my
recommendation to the family.

And please include my condolences. You
can expect to hear from me by noon.

Good

morning.

Nothing new, eh? No. Oh.

Just Mrs. Petarski. Are you expecting
anyone else? No, but I am now.

Just had a very encouraging meeting with
Stanton C.

Barraville's attorney.

Do you mean there's a chance I might get
to work on Mr. Barraville?

Keeping my fingers crossed, he was one
of Poughkeepsie's most distinguished

citizens.

Sir, you know, things seem to be looking
up around here, so I thought this might

be a good time to discuss my own
situation again. I have high hopes for

Thor.

I hope... Do you mean that, sir?

Don't you quit calling me sir.

Bad habit to get into, bad for the
profession.

We're not flunkies, my boy.

It's an essential service we perform,
and don't you forget it.

You know, it's just like I told my old
lady last night.

How'd it be, I asked her, if nobody went
into this game? What's she say?

You know mothers. Makes her nervous, the
kind of work I'm doing. You have a real

future.

Can I tell her that, sir?

About the future, about my getting a
piece of the business like you promised

When was that?

When I started. Five years ago, come
next month, remember?

You said if I could stick it out long
enough to learn the trade, there's a

of the business in it for me.

Well, if I said it, I'd live with it.

But it certainly doesn't sound like
anything I'd normally promise.

Well, our situation wasn't normal. You
couldn't get any help.

Yes, well, we'll see about it.

When? Before the week's out.

I'll have a lawyer draw up a memorandum
of agreements.

Which lawyer?

I don't know.

Perhaps... Perhaps even Agnew of Agnew
and Agnew. Is that good enough for you?

Plenty good enough, but remember,
weekend's on Saturday, Mr. Motherwell.

Right over there.

I thought you'd never get here. You held
up my whole lunch.

Easy, easy.

Did you get them started yet?

Nope, they're just a second left.

Oh, that's him all right.

Sure is, and about time. I waited right
through my lunch hour.

Then take it now. I'll get them started.

Ordinarily, I wouldn't care about lunch,
that is. But I slammed out with the

breakfast and... Take a full hour.

No, I'll just grab a bite at the
drugstore.

Before you go, better ring the musicians
local.

Put a hold on their best string quartet.

Hey, sounds like Stanton Barrowville's
really going out in style.

Naturally.

Hello?

Speaking.

Oh, yes, Mr. Agnew. Just a few minutes
to go.

Fine. Now, I have a detailed list of
instructions for you.

My girl will send you a carbon by
messenger, but I just want to alert you

major items.

30 limousines.

A string quartet to back up the choir.

Right.

Minimum of 300 guests.

Organists.

Canopy and chairs.

Yes, of course. Of course we can handle
the memorial reception.

Yes, Mr. Agnew, and I'm sure you'll be
very pleased.

How does that thing go?

Sounds like somebody clearing a throat.

Precisely.

Ta -ta -ta.

I'm saying that Stanton C.

Barvell was sitting up looking terrible
sick.

Why wouldn't he if he was dead?

Arthur, are you telling the truth?

Of course I'm telling you the truth.

In 23 years, it's happened to me twice
only.

The first time you remember was that
Winkleman boy he came to in the shop.

And he's still around, I believe.

Since 1935.

He's still around.

And a very mean job he turned out.

But I don't see the crisis.

Unless Barravale's still around.

Please.

No interruptions, remember?

Let me finish.

Now, you can understand.

that this sort of thing doesn't happen
every day in a week.

So, when Stanton C. Barber set up and

asked me... Who are you?

Well, I'm Arthur Motherwell.

Who'd you expect?

I'll ask the questions.

Why don't you know whom you're
addressing?

Why, yes, sir, you're, you're, uh,
stands in C.

Baravale, and you run the finest
department store in Poughkeepsie, and

pleasure to talk to you, sir.

Only... Only what?

Only, well, uh, nothing. Come off it,
man.

Why the devil are you converging on me
with all those weapons?

Weapons? Oh, no, no, no, no weapons,
sir. Just the tools of the trade, so to

speak. What trade?

Well, speak up, man.

I'm accustomed to a direct answer.

Embalming, sir. You see, I run this
parlor.

Oh.

That mother well.

One and the same, sir.

And the fact is, sir, you, well, like I
say, you died last night

at 10 .53 p .m. Huh?

I knew it must be something like that.

I feel the weight as a feather.

Yes, sir.

Peculiar sensation.

And cold, too.

I must have a temperature below zero.

Just you relax, sir, and I'll get Summit
General Hospital on the phone.

No, no, don't do that.

It'll just cause talk.

And I'm going out again in a minute
anyway.

Maybe a couple of pickup pills?

Too late for that, Motherwell.

Never push goods on people that they
can't use.

Secret of the department store business.

But what they can use, load them up to
the gills.

Good psychology.

It's a big thought.

What was it?

What was it?

It's a... The thing that made me come
back.

While you were talking a minute ago, I
almost had it.

And then I went away.

While I was talking?

Of course, it's you.

You're why I came back.

Maybe you should reconsider that pill,
sir.

My funeral was never settled.

Or perhaps a sip of brandy? I remember
now. I never arranged the details of my

funeral. Not uncommon, sir. Most folks
leave that sort of thing to their, if

you'll pardon the expression, their
heirs.

At a moment like this, my wife and kids
feel bad.

They're bound to spend more than is
necessary, and what's the sense to that?

Yes, I see your point, Mr. Parvell.

I don't want the estate to be drained of
a solitary nickel that's unnecessary.

Too many important things.

Investments, foundations.

Don't you see it, Motherwell?

That's what revived me.

Whatever it was, it certainly shows a
strong will.

Some kind of leftover power in my brain
brought me back.

But what can you do about this? Mr.
Agnew is the executor.

Mr. Agnew is a horse's backside.

Are you sure you won't join me in a
drink, Mr. Baravale?

I have some good ten -year -olds. Stop.
Stop diverting me. All I want from you

is a pen and paper. Get them.

Now, what's the cheapest way you can do
it?

And I mean rock bottom.

Well, it all depends on number of
people, cars, music or not,

type of casket, et cetera.

That's what I figured. Big leeway there.

And I was fool enough to let Agnew draw
up that blasted will to read, after

all, funeral expenses have been paid,
blah, blah, blah.

Well, we'll take care of it, Motherwell.

Give me that paper.

I'll specify cheapest funeral possible.

Six people, no music.

One car and an unpainted pine box.

The pine market's still low?

Very.

Do you have any trouble? You've shown
this.

Can I use the phone? No. Just give me
your word as a gentleman. You'll handle

my way.

But this paper is no good, sir. You're
legally dead as of 10 .53 p .m. last

night. That's why I'm dating it the day
before yesterday.

And it's in my handwriting.

No mistake about that.

What's the time now?

12 .28 p .m.

Well, let's make it 12 .30, officially.

September 5th.

1958.

And now I'll sign it.

Thank you Motherwell.

And it was nice talking to you.

Six people.

No music.

I caught the messenger service guy out
front, Mr. Motherwell. Good, that must

the confirmation of Mr. Agnew's order.

I bet it calls for a hundred guests.

Minimum of three hundred.

You don't say.

Do you mind if I read it? I mean, since
I'm almost a member of the firm.

Oh, sure, go ahead.

Limousines. 30.

Hey, that's 3 -0.

Floral arrangements.

Preponderance of white orchids and
American beauties.

Use your discretion.

Price no object.

You all right, Mr. Motherwell?

Of course I am.

You don't look too good. Everything go
all right in there? I didn't have a

chance to get started.

But why shouldn't it? I've only been
laying people out for the last 23 years.

offense, sir. You just don't look too
good. I am fine.

Good.

Hey, good thing I contacted the
musician's local. They do want a string

You just put a hold on it, didn't you?

Yeah, now we can make it an order,
right?

What's that?

An order. The music. Now that it's
official. You want me to call them? I'll

very happy to call them. No, I'll take
care of that. You just handle... Oh,

Sure thing.

So you didn't tell them?

Tell them what?

That the big funeral was out.

I didn't tell him because I didn't have
the heart.

After all, that kid's been building his
house for years.

What about the florist?

And the musician's union?

And the car rental?

Oh, I'll phone them in the morning.

I mean, those fellas, they don't require
too much notice one way or the other.

Well,

it's just one of those things.

You say that again.

But, like you said,

There's no doubt about what's the right
thing to do.

Picture goes on in 15 minutes. That's
right.

Well, there's only one thing to do.

Careful, darling. You'll burn your hand.

I won't, dear.

Not like he couldn't afford it.

Anyway, why cheat family and friends
from paying proper respect?

Trust my mind, too.

What's more, he had no right to do what
he did.

None whatsoever.

A man legally dead, after all.

Do you know where we're going to sit
tonight?

Rogers. That's right.

Cartley. For smoking.

I'm certain is the only example we have
of a man dying posthumously.

Mr. Barryvale's funeral turned out to be
a very gala occasion, especially for

Mr. Motherwell.

It produced quite a business boom for
him. You see, someone accidentally put

embalming fluid in the coffee that was
served.

But so much for life's light aside, I
hope you rejoin me after this next

Personally, I think I shall sit it out.

That was short and sweet.

Too sweet.

Well, that's a hopeful sign.

Next week I shall return with another
story.

Perhaps by then I shall have settled
down.

Good night.

Repair and Synchronization by
Easy Subtitles Synchronizer 1.0.0.0