All language subtitles for 11 - The Rough and the Smooth_eng

(vehicle approaching)

- Only me.
- Ah, Miss Darnley.

Hello, Mr Farnon.
Have you seen to Bonkers yet?

No, no. I've only just arrived.

That's a bit of luck.
Hate to miss the master at work.

- (horse whinnies /banging)
- Oh, listen to him.

Silly boy.
Hates to come out of his box.

No problem once he's out, mind.

Come on.
Let's show him who's boss.

- Look out!
- What?

The ladder, Mr Farnon.
Bad luck.

Yes, of course.
Thank you very much.

- Hello, Miss Darnley.
- Oh, just as well you're here, Mr Farnon.

I'm having trouble
getting Bonkers out.

Don't worry, Edie.
Mr Farnon'll calm him down.

Calm that down?

- There's nothing he can't do wi' a horse.
- Oh, don't be ridiculous, Sybil.

The mood Bonkers is in,
he'll go for anyone.

Bonkers hasn't a chance -
not with Mr Farnon here to pull rank.

Oh, what a lot of rubbish!

I'm sure you can handle him,
Mr Farnon.

(loud thudding)

(neighs loudly)

(Siegfried murmurs)

(continues murmuring)

There you are. I'm sure he'll keep his food
down, but go easy on the raw meat, eh?

- Bye-bye.
- Bye, Miss Bryson.

(baas)

- Mr Ramsey.
- Oh, now then, Mr Herriot.

- Look, Mr Ramsey…
- Oh, it's Milly. Her mouth needs seeing to.

A bit of a cut there or summat.

Oh. And you've brought her
all the way down to the surgery.

I didn't want you
coming out to see me.

- I've always been willing to visit.
- Aye, and that's the problem.

Pardon?

Whenever you visit, veterinary,
my beasts die, don't they?

- You mean the calf?
- Aye. And t'lamb before that, and others.

I did explain what happened to…

Nay, nay, Mr Herriot.
It's not your fault.

I'm just hoping me luck will change now
by doing it t'other way round, you see?

(sheep baas)

Well, there's no sign of
bronchial trouble.

Hm.

So I think…
it's got to be a sinus infection.

Not serious, is it?

Well, I tell you,
I'm going to give him a shot of penicillin,

and that really should clear him up.

There's a good boy.

Could you hold that for me?
Thank you.

All right, boy.

All right, boy.
Come on back here.

Come on.

- There's a good boy.
- There's a good boy.

Thank you for your
time and attention, Bonkers.

Well, ladies,
I'll bid you goodbye.

I'll look back again in a couple of days.
Now, please, don't bother to see me away.

Thank you, Mr Farnon.

Goodbye.

Uh, Miss Darnley…
your motorbicycle.

Oh, right.

(beeps horn)

(loud engine noise)

- Mr Ripley! The gate is…!
- Now then, Mr Herriot!

Turn off your engine!

Turn off the engine!

(engine stops)

All that hollerin' and tootin',
veterinary.

- It must be something important, I reckon.
- Mr Ripley, the gate is padlocked.

Aye, it's a good little lock that.

The old hinge went funny on me again,
Mr Herriot, but I'll soon have it fixed.

Thou has me word on it,
Mr Herriot.

I don't want your word, I want the key,
Mr Ripley, so we can open the gate.

Aye. Aye, well, we might have
a little bit of a problem there.

T'old key…

I've just remembered -
it's up at t'house.

Tell thee what,
you wait here and I'll fetch it back.

By that time I could have been up there,
done the job, and got off your farm.

- Look, hang on, Mr Ripley. Hang on.
- Aye.

- You can give me a lift up.
- Aye, all right.

All right, Mr Ripley. Let's go.

Oh, aye. Well, just as soon
as I get t'old tractor on t'go.

- Well, switch it on, then.
- Eh, it's not as easy as that.

It needs a turn… with this, like.

Oh. Well, go on, then.

What, me do t'job?
Wi' rheumatics I've got in my shoulder?

Oh, nay, nay.
Have a heart, veterinary.

You got it running before.

Nay. Nay, that were t'missus.
She does t'turning.

Right, Mr Ripley.
Let me have it. Thank you.

There you are.

You put it in t'little hole there.

(sighs)

It's always a bit tight at t'start,
Mr Herriot.

(laughs) It's all a matter
of having t'knack of doing t'job.

Now, you take t'missus…
Right first time every time, is our Hillary.

Aye, she is, an' all.

Good old Hillary.

Crank!

(engine starts)

By 'eck.

There you are, Mr Ripley.

Helen, did Bill Ramsey say anything
about that Great Dane of his?

Um, yes, yes.

"Mr Ramsey, Great Dane, Dukelaws."
Nine o'clock on Saturday morning. OK?

"9am. Ramsey. Great Dane."
Thank you, Helen.

You've taken to using a diary, I see.

The answer to all problems
of time and place. My vade mecum.

No more pockets
stuffed with bits of paper.

(laughs) When have you ever known me
any less than orderly in my habits, pray?

Oh, never.
Perish the thought, Siegfried.

Did you tell Ramsey
that we need to keep…

- What's his name?
- Henrietta.

Her. Keep her a few hours
because of the anaesthetic?

Yes. It's all arranged. He's going to
the races and he'll pick her up afterwards.

Right.

Uh, I hope you haven't forgotten
your other engagement on Saturday.

- What other engagement?
- You have.

Well, let's consult the diary.

And I think you'll find written there:

"10am. Agricultural college.
Prizegiving speech by SF."

"Subject - recent advances
in veterinary medicine."

So boo.

- These beasts are perfectly healthy.
- In the pink.

Four… Well, there were six.
Those two I was treating, they're not here.

Aye. Thou is right there.

Mr Ripley, where are they?

- Well, they've gone, Mr Herriot.
- Gone? You mean died?

Knacker's man had 'em
two or three days ago.

Why the hell didn't you tell me?

Well, I thought I did…
but now I'm not so sure.

Ah, I've got so much on my mind what
with running the farm to think on, like.

You made me go through
all that to get here?

I couldn't stop you.
You were that set on it.

Any road, dead's dead. And there
were nowt to be done, were there?

Now then, if thou will give
the little handle a bit of a turn again,

I'll be getting on with my jobs.

- Ripley has pushed me beyond my limits.
- You've been most cruelly used.

Year in, year out, he makes my life
a misery. Why do I let him do it?

- You like him.
- I could throttle him. When I see his face…

The face of a man who intends no evil
because he harbours none.

- Whose side are you on?
- Come, come, James.

We both acknowledge that
Ripley's intentions are for the best.

It just happens
that in this particular case,

his intentions and yours
are at cross-purposes.

The man, Siegfried, is impossible.
You haven't had to deal with him.

James, are we to be
the servants or the masters of our fate?

- Oh, you think you can master him?
- There's always a way, James.

The application of a precise means
to achieve a desired end.

- "Precise means"?
- Yeah.

All you've got to do is to organise the
goodwill that already exists between you.

Of course. Organise. How?

Well, my dear James,
there's no universal rule.

A decision on how best to proceed
depends on the particular circumstances.

It's just words, Siegfried.

I can see, James,
that I shall have to prove them.

- We will see him today, won't we?
- (Helen) Ofcourse, Miss Darnley.

- And we are talking about Mr Farnon?
- Not that other chap.

(Sybil) Not that other chap.

Well, I think the other chap's
got other plans for today.

Just as well. It needs someone with a
bit of go about them to cope with Bonkers.

(laughs)

That was Sybil Darnley on the phone.
She's worried about Bonkers.

- Over to you, Siegfried.
- She wasn't too keen on "the other chap".

Darling, I am a mere mortal. Sybil is
England's own Amazonian warrior queen.

Charity, James.

I haven't received any from them,
least of all from Sybil.

- She's the kindest of souls.
- You're biased.

Not surprisingly.
She treats you like an oracle.

- Nonsense, Helen.
- It's true.

I daresay I have noticed
a certain degree of…

But I'm perfectly sure
it applies to James as well.

Those sisters consider me
the original seven-stone weakling.

Ah, James.
You see, there's a divine purpose

in our all being created… different.

Don't bother to ring her back.
I'm on my way, Helen.

Penicillin doesn't seem to be much help.
We've got a shot or two in the locker yet.

I'm going to…
give him a dose of streptomycin.

Ah. The wonder drug.

We'll see about that.
Just stand back, will you?

Normally this will kill
any infection stone-dead.

The difficulty is that the sinus cavity
seems to be one of those areas

that antibiotics
have trouble reaching.

And if the sinus itself becomes impacted
with pus, we really do have a problem.

- Why?
- Well, you see, we should have to drain it.

And in order to do that,
we should employ

one of the oldest surgical procedures
known to man.

A little hole right through the frontal bone
precisely there.

With a hammer and chisel,
I suppose?

No, of course not. No, we should use
what we call a trephine to drill the hole.

And when that's done then we can
release the build-up of fluids

and flush out the sinus cavity.

I don't fancy his head
being turned into a colander.

I know it sounds alarming,
but it is, as I say, a classical procedure.

Drilling holes in his head? Classical?
Sounds like Stone Age to me.

I assure you,
we won't have recourse to a trephine

unless we feel
it's absolutely necessary, Miss Darnley.

He's bonkers enough as it is. Holes
in the head is the last thing he needs.

If Mr Farnon says he needs it,
he must have it, Edie.

We've got a long way to go before the
question of a trephine becomes an issue.

But when it does, to reassure you,
I shall seek a second opinion.

I should hope so.

- (James) I don't believe it.
- Ha-ha. Mr Ripley.

Hey. Now then, veterinaries.
Thou's saved me a trip to t'pub.

What can we do for you,
Mr Ripley?

Well, it's one of my old cows,
Mr Herriot.

It's got summat of a problem, like,
with a swollen foot.

- And you'd like me to visit, would you?
- You read my mind, Mr Herriot.

Got it in one.

Right, Mr Ripley.

A swollen foot, you say?

Aye. It's old Primrose, Mr Farnon.

I see.

So, let's discuss the arrangements,
shall we?

Arrangements? Arrangements?
Eeh, thou's lost me there, Mr Farnon.

It's a new system.
It's part of our drive to offer our clients,

our most favoured clients,
a more efficient service.

So, Primrose.
And the time of the visit, shall we say,

two o'clock sharp
tomorrow afternoon?

- Aye, that should be all right, Mr Farnon.
- Not should, Mr Ripley, must.

If that time is not convenient simply
say so and we'll arrange a time that is.

Aye. Well, I should be on t'job.

Good. Now, your gate.

I understand that it was padlocked
last time my partner visited you.

Aye, well, what with one thing and t'other,
like, tha knows.

No need to apologise, just so long as you
are there to open it when we do arrive.

You have my word on it,
Mr Farnon.

Good. Thank you.

The arrangements are all itemised
on this little piece of paper, Mr Ripley.

By 'eck.

Mr Herriot doesn't
go about t'job like this, tha knows.

Two o'clock sharp at the gate. Yes?

You have my word, Mr Farnon.

Not your word, Mr Ripley,
your presence at the gate. Yes?

Aye. If thou's set on it.

I am, Mr Ripley.

Ah. One minute past two.
I suppose that's tolerable.

Thank you, Mr Ripley!

I don't believe this.

What, James?

Oh, nothing.

All right. He was at the gate,
he was on time.

But one swallow
does not a summer make.

Whatever you say, James. (hums tune)

Item three on your list,
please, Mr Ripley.

Aye. That'd be old…

I suggest we continue as we started,
Mr Ripley. Your list, if you please.

If thou says so, Mr Farnon.

By 'eck, Mr Herriot,
this is t'way to get job done.

- Time presses, Mr Ripley.
- Aye, aye. All right. It's here.

Now, let's see. Item three. Item.
Right, this is it. "See to old Primrose."

Correct. I take it that this
splendid animal here is Primrose?

Aye, thou's right there.

Good. Now, my partner
very kindly holds my bag.

You see? Thank you.

By hell, it's really marvellous, this.

Bit of paper with items on. It's a pity
we didn't do this before, Mr Herriot.

If you think back,
you'll find that…

Thou's no need to explain thyself,
Mr Herriot.

You've got your way of working it,
and Mr Farnon's got his.

I mean, just look at that.
Look at him getting on with t'job.

No preaching or sermonising.

Just doing t'job.

And it's all thanks to t'items
on this little bit of paper.

It is tremendous, Mr Ripley.

And here, I fancy,
is the cause of the swelling, Mr Ripley.

One of your fencing staples,
if I'm not much mistaken.

Aye. Thou's right there, Mr Farnon.
I must have kicked over box in t'field.

I see. Now then, we'll just…

give Primrose a prophylactic shot
to guard against any possible infection,

and then we shall be able to say
mission accomplished.

- Yes, Mr Ripley?
- Aye, aye, Mr Farnon.

For once in his life, Ripley behaved
like a responsible human being.

Nothing to do with your ways and means,
bits of paper or damned items.

Is that so, James?

It was your manner.
That's what turned the tables on him.

Next time I deal with him
I shall take a leaf out of your book.

Good, you're back. The Darnley sisters.
Would you go and see their horse?

- Oh, Lord. No improvement?
- Sybil sounded worried.

I said about three o'clock,
if that's all right.

Well, let's have a look, shall we?

"3pm. Bonkers."
That's all right, Helen. Thank you.

James, you've been good enough
to indulge one of my whims today.

- Grant me one more favour?
- I owe you that much.

Will you give me
a second opinion on Bonkers?

The Darnley sisters
won't take any notice of my opinion.

James, of all the people
we've come across in our years together,

only one has seriously doubted
your professional abilities -

James Herriot Esquire, MRCVS.

James?

- What have you tried?
- (sighs)

- Penicillin, streptomycin.
- Sulphonamide?

Neither seems to get
to the root of the infection, James.

- Those sinuses will need draining.
- Exactly. So you agree?

- The only option is a trephine.
- Trephine?!

Yes, of course.
It's the only possible option open to us.

- Siegfried…
- So there it is.

It is the most wonderful
piece of luck, James.

Right. Miss Darnley, ladies, my partner
and I are in complete agreement.

- The, um, operation.
- Exactly as we discussed it.

You see, Bonkers is not in pain yet,
but he is in considerable discomfort.

So, what do you say?
Do we set about it?

Let's get to it, I say.
Yes, Edie?

Not today, Sybil.

Oh. Yes. Of course, Edie.

Friday the 13th, Mr Farnon.

No point in tempting fate, is there?

All right. What about tomorrow, the 14th?
That's Bastille Day.

We'll storm the citadel
of Bonkers' malady on the quatorzejulliet.

What do you say to that?

The afternoon's out.
Edie's got her astrologer.

All right, then.
The morning.

- What time?
- Um, well, let's see…

- Have you lost something?
- No, no, no, no, no, no.

Only after half past ten.
We've got our palm readings before that.

Oh. I'd rather watch Mr Farnon…

drill Bonkers.

Very well, then.
Half past ten. Half… past… ten.

- Do you want a pen?
- No, James. Thank you.

I can remember that.
Oh, just one other thing.

It might be wise to lay on
a couple of stalwart assistants.

Won't be necessary, Mr Farnon.
Sybil's worth any three chaps I know.

Good. Right.

(James) And it will clear up the problem.

Twice a day for as long as it lasts.
Let's hope it does some good, eh?

- Morning. Does he know?
- Only that it's a partners' lunch.

There you are.
Guinea fowl chasseur as ordered.

Helen, you are a wonder.

- Now then…
- Now, this is your cooking instructions.

Heat in a moderate oven
for about an hour.

Moderate. As opposed to what?
Violent, intemperate?

Moderate as in steady as you go.
What is all this, Siegfried?

Oh, these are just gastronomic auxiliaries
to the main event,

including one of
Mrs Cromarty's excellent pies.

It's enough to feed an army.

Yes, I think I may have exceeded
the bounds of strict frugality.

And James will adore every mouthful.
I've got to go.

Right. Helen, your efforts
are much appreciated.

- Thank you.
- I'll see you out.

- You're not supposed to be here today.
- No. I'm running an errand for Siegfried.

- I'll be off, then.
- Right, Helen. Thanks awfully.

Thank you.
James.

There we go.

- (barking)
- Henrietta! Come back here!

- Morning, Mr Herriot.
- Mr Ramsey.

Sorry we're late, Mr Farnon.
Motor's been playing up, like.

Not at all, Mr Ramsey.

I had to bring her bedding. Henrietta
don't like to go nowhere without it.

I see. Well, you better bring
the whole caboodle in here.

- James, give him a hand, will you?
- This way, Mr Ramsey, please.

I'll… I'll…
I'll leave you to it, James.

Right, now,
you'd better give me those, Mr Ramsey.

- She won't cause you any bother?
- No. She'll be all right.

She'll be a bit drowsy,
you see, after the sedative.

It's only until me and the missus get back
from Doncaster. Big meeting today.

- You're sure she's going to be all right?
- Don't worry yourself.

It's a simple operation,
over in minutes.

Aye. I'd better go
or else t'missus will be wondering.

- Right you are. Five o'clock. No later.
- Right. Cheerio, Mr Farnon.

- Bye, Mr Herriot.
- Bye, Mr Ramsey.

Come on, James,
we're running late.

If I'm to avoid
keeping the Darnley sisters waiting,

we must mount
a full-scale assault on Henrietta.

- Tea up, Siegfried.
- Oh, well done, James.

All finished,
and with blessed time in hand.

- Here.
- Lovely.

Oh. Found this…

Oh. Ah. Thank you, James, thank you.
Must have put it down for a moment.

It looks as if it's been
in the kitchen since yesterday.

Oh. Well, momentary lapse, James.

You know,
I'm very seldom parted from it now.

I think your diary system
is inherently risky.

- Do you really, James?
- Your memory is just as bad as mine.

You forget everything once you've written
it down. All very well - if you don't lose it.

Well, that's extremely unlikely.

The whole trick of the thing is to
train oneself until order becomes a habit.

I'll stick with my imperfect memory.

But surely, James, you can appreciate
the value of time well organised?

Take today, for example.
Despite the fact our client was late,

we're still in good order.
What is it now? It's ten o'clock.

Our next appointment is with
the Miss Darnleys at half past ten.

There we are.
Or is there some doubt?

In which case,
we consult the oracle.

Here we are. Friday.

Uh, Saturday, actually.

Oh, Sat…

(gasps)

"Saturday the 14th. Agricultural college.
10am. Speech by SF."

- Oh, no!
- Oh, yes.

It was a personal invitation
from Sir Roderick himself.

- How on earth did you forget that?
- Because it was in the damned diary!

Never mind. All is not lost.

I shall be a bit late, but they'll be
gathering in the late coffee drinkers.

Have you seen that speech
I gave to the Broughton Girls' School?

It's not a girls' school.
They are agricultural students.

Reasonably mature young men.

In that case
I shall just have to adapt, improvise,

make the jokes a bit earthier.

It should be…
Ah, here we are. Here it is.

Now, this crisis is going to be a testing
moment for the firm of Farnon and Herriot,

but I know here
that we shall rise above it, James,

because of our knack of
adapting to circumstance.

Which, of course, means that
you will have to deal with the matter

of the Darnleys' horse.

- Me?
- Well, who else, James?

- No. I can't do a trephine.
- What?

- I've never done one.
- You know the procedure.

I've seen it done once
in Glasgow in 1935.

Well, there you are, James.
No problem, none at all.

And if you need a refresher,

there's always
Dollar's Operative Technique.

There you are, James.
Step-by-step with illustrations.

- Siegfried…
- When you've done the trephine,

I order you - order, mind you - to return
forthwith to Skeldale and relax, James.

I should be in plenty of time
to, uh, prepare a late luncheon.

- Now, then…
- What do we do about Henrietta?

Oh, Christmas.
Well, James, there's nothing we can do.

She's going to be drowsy
for quite a long time.

Just shut the door
and hope for the best.

- James?
- Siegfried?

You'll have to do a frontal trephine
on that horse Bonkers.

So remember,
you go in halfway along a line

drawn from the inner canthus
of the left eye in this case to the midline.

Just… there. Right?

Good tip.

Thanks, partner.

(mutters)

Morning.

Good morning, ladies.

- You're going to do the operation?
- That's right, Miss Darnley.

- I thought Mr Farnon was going to do it.
- Ah. Unfortunately, he can't be here.

- An emergency, you see.
- And… you're late.

Mr Farnon's never late,
is he, Edie?

Well, we could wait
until my partner is available,

but I don't think
that would help our patient.

I suppose you'll have to do it, then.

This, uh, hole-in-the-head business,

it sounds rather heroic.

- Is that the word you'd use?
- Yes, but not very often.

Well, we'll have to make
the best of it, then, won't we?

- What do you say, Edie?
- Well…

Chin up, Edie. The sooner we get started,
the sooner it'll be over.

- Right, Mr Herriot?
- Right.

(snores)

Well, so far, so good.

- Goes right through the bone, you say?
- Yes, that's right.

- Lots of blood, I suppose.
- Sybil, remember.

Uh, no. Not… not yet.

Excuse me.

(she gasps) What are those?

Scalpel, forceps, lenticular knife.

You're actually
going to drill Bonkers' head?

- Yes.
- Oh, crikey.

I bet that'll get
the old red stuff flowing.

Sybil, remember.

The trephine.

- Horrible-looking thing.
- Hm.

You use that to get
right into t'skull, I suppose.

- Yes.
- Oh, jolly good.

Can't wait to see you
get really stuck in.

(mutters) V-shaped… Right.

Thank you.

Blood. I knew it.

That's good.

(crunching sound)

You know, I've kept animals most of my
life and they never cease to amaze me.

You and I would convalesce for months
after what Bonkers has gone through.

- I know. Sights like this are very special.
- You're rather special yourself.

- No, not at all.
- Yes, you are.

No, no, no. It's just that, well, to see
an animal recover after an operation…

Must also be very special for a vet

to see his assistant
make such a good recovery.

Eh, Sybil?

- I don't know what came over me.
- Right. Better be off.

- Can't you stay for a bit of lunch?
- You're very welcome.

That's very kind, but Mr Farnon
and I have a partners' lunch.

You will come
and eat with us sometime?

Oh, yes. I'd love to.

I'll take that.
Yes. I'll… I'll take everything.

Thank you.

I'll flush out the sinuses again
tomorrow.

- Oh, thanks for all your good work.
- It's a pleasure.

Mr Herriot, I can't tell you how much I…
Well, you know…

Goodbye, Miss Darnley,
and thank you so much for all your help.

Gosh. Ooh.

Goodbye, then.
Goodbye.

Bye, Miss Darnley.

- Thank you so much.
- Oh, thank you.

(phone rings)

Darrowby 38…

Yes, Mr Ripley.

Who's lame?

Mr Ripley, can you speak up?
It's a rather bad line.

Yes. Who's…?

Buttercup.
Buttercup is lame?

Look, how bad is…?

No, no.
How bad…?

Hello? Mr Ripley?

Hello?

Mr Ripley?

Hello! Mr Ripley?

Which one of you is it?

If the culprit doesn't own up
you'll all be kept in after milking.

- Now then, Mr Herriot.
- Oh, Mrs Ripley.

- Is owt the matter?
- There's something wrong with a cow.

- Nay.
- Yes.

- Your husband asked me to visit.
- Well, I know nowt about that.

(sighs) Well, where is he?
I can't find him.

Nay, you wouldn't.
He walked up to t'pub to use telephone.

Oh. Well, how long ago was that?

Ooh, an hour gone,
maybe more.

- When do you expect him back?
- That he didn't say.

But he'll be wanting his tea.
He'll be back for that.

- I haven't even had my lunch.
- Oh, we've had ours.

Oh, that's good.

Mrs Ripley,
which is the lame one?

I couldn't rightly say,
Mr Herriot.

Well, I'd better check all of them.
We'll have to have them outside.

Whatever you think best, Mr Herriot.
Soon as I've done my milking.

Now then… my beauty.

Mr Ripley,
I'm a very reasonable man.

Look, Mr Ripley,
I'm a reasonable man and…

Listen, Mr Ripley,
I am a very reasonable man

and I believe that you are too.

So, Mr Ripley…

Mr Ripley, listen.

I am a very reasonable man,
but this can't go on.

(smash)

Oh, my God. Henrietta!

Henrietta!

Henriett…!

Henrietta!

Henrietta! Oh! Rrrgh!

(James) Out you go.
Cush, cush.

Go on, go on.

(MrRipley) Music Where hast tha bin
since I saw thee?

Music On llkley Moor baht 'at…

Mr Ripley.

- Well, Mr Herriot. Well, by 'eck.
- What kept you?

Well, I've been down t'pub
talking to some of t'lads, aye.

- Well, what about me?
- Oh, it's always a pleasure to see thee.

By heck, it is a pleasure.

It's a bit of a surprise an' all,
finding thee here.

But you asked me to come,
Mr Ripley.

I did?

I did.

And here you are.

By 'eck, I can hardly believe it.

Now, look, Mr Ripley,
I am a very reasonable man…

Thou is that, veterinary, aye.

- I've come all this way to see a cow.
- A cow, thou says?

- A lame cow.
- A lame cow.

You telephoned over an hour ago.
You said it was urgent.

Urgent?
Well, if thou says it's urgent, urgent it is.

Will you listen to me, please, just listen?
Now, I am a very reasonable man…

Mr Ripley, would you please help me
to get the rest of the cows into the yard?

- Into t'yard, thou says?
- That's right, so I can check them.

Please hurry.
I haven't had my lunch.

Oh, aye, all right, Mr Herriot,
if thou says so.

I'm with you 100%.

By 'eck.

- (Siegfried) Henrietta!
- (barks)

Henrietta, come here.
Henrietta! Henrietta!

Henrietta.

Sorry, Mrs Braithwaite!
Come here!

That's the last of 'em, veterinary.

- She's perfectly all right.
- Aye, thou's right there.

- In fact, they are all perfectly all right.
- Aye.

Well, leave it to t'experts.
Now, that's what I say.

Mr Ripley, you telephoned the surgery
from the pub, right?

- I'll not deny it.
- Good. Now, why did you telephone?

Well, it was about our Buttercup.

That's it. Right.
I remember.

"Our Buttercup is very lame," you said.

Aye, aye.
Aye, tha's got it in one.

Mr Ripley, think very carefully.
Take your time.

Which one of these cows
is Buttercup?

- None of them, Mr Herriot.
- What do you mean, "none of them"?

Well, these are cows, Mr Herriot.
I said nowt about cows.

- You distinctly said on the phone…
- Nay, nay.

You told me
that I had a lame cow.

I was… I was talking about our Buttercup,
and she isn't here.

Well, why isn't she here?

Because, Mr Herriot, these are cows
and old Buttercup's a donkey.

(sniffs)

Siegfried?

- James!
- Siegfried, what…?

Oh, don't ask, James.

Oh, my God.
The guinea fowl casserole.

- Is it…?
- It is.

- (phone rings)
- I'll get it, Siegfried.

Hell's bells.
You are the…

Darrowby 385.

Oh, hello, Mr Ramsey.
Yes, it went without a hitch.

What?

Your car has given up the ghost and you
can't be here till 12 o'clock at the earliest.

- What?
- All right. Thank you. Goodbye.

- Midnight?
- At the earliest.

There's one thing, James, at least we
shan't have to feed Henrietta again today.

- I want my lunch.
- I take full responsibility, James.

Eat up your nice cheese and pickle
sandwich like a good boy.

It was the very best that the Drovers Arms
could rustle up at short notice.

And besides that, James,
there are compensations.

What compensations?

Something rather nice
to wash it down with, James.

- Siegfried…
- There you are, there you are.

- Siegfried, what are you doing?
- At least we deserve a glass of wine.

That isn't wine.
It's your last bottle of Mouton…

- Yes.
- But it's priceless!

The last bottle of the box you got
for the christening present.

Absolutely true, James.

If I'd left it any longer, it might
have turned into priceless vinegar.

Besides, I think you are underestimating
the importance of the occasion, James.

No, Siegfried. An ordinary partners' lunch
that went extraordinarily wrong.

- Something rather more than that, James.
- Hm?

Cast your infallible memory back.

Do you remember
an occasion in this very room

one summer afternoon many, many
years ago, a particular moment?

I came in here,
I'd been attending a brood mare,

and I found a young man here
rather unsure of himself.

Bright and keen.
A young man who, I didn't know it then,

was to become
my loyal and trusted partner

and my closest friend.

Do you remember that moment, James?

- About 15 years ago, wasn't it?
- To the very day, James.

And I would like to drink to those
15 years that we've shared together.

To those 15 years.

- Ah!
- Ah!

And, uh, to the next 15 years?

(chuckles) James.

Oh.