Original subtitles

Fanny Hill is falling down,

falling down, falling down.

Fanny Hill is falling down, my fairy lady.

Come and help us off the street, off our feet, quick and neat.

Love is what we're with replete, sweet, young lassy.

Some of us are but 15, sweet and clean, fresh and green.

meant to be love for you, not for daddy.

Fanny Hill, Fanny Hill.

Some of us are but 15, sweet and clean, fresh and green.

meant to be love for you, not for daddy.

Who'll buy my lavender?

Sweet lavender?

Ah, did you wait for me?

How lucky I am.

Oh, how dare you!

Fish, sixpence, for a mess of fish!

Sixpence, sixpence, sixpence for a mess of fish.

Sixpence for a mess of fish.

Sixpence for a mess of fish.

You slut!

Madam, I'm sorry.

Oh, you, you strumpet.

Here, madam, please.

Oh, fish!

Harlot, harlot, slut!

I am Fanny Hill, the wicked woman

you've all heard about.

Only, I'm not quite a woman, and I

really did not mean to be wicked,

but I know that is no excuse.

I was born at a small village near Liverpool.

My parents did not have the means

to properly educate me before they

were carried away by smallpox.

I've often felt my lack of learning keenly.

From their death, I was thrust on the streets,

penniless and alone, in my opinion, unready for the world.

Nevertheless, people ever since have been asking that,

really, was the world ready for me?

I've never quite fathomed the meaning of that remark.

Ooh.

My friend, Esther Davis, who is more worldly than I,

brought me to the city to find employment.

A good lass, she, and my only friend in the world.

She has been kind enough to take what is left of my money,

and is even now, I trust, looking for lodgings.

But seven hours have passed, and she has not returned.

So I must find employment, or I shall

surely starve to my very death.

And so, fortunate girl that I am,

I met the very kindest old lady imaginable.

Slut, malingerer, imposter.

If you can't do the work, don't apply for it.

It's the third place you've lost this week.

Like many city people,

she was, on the surface, somewhat gruff.

But it was apparent to me she had a heart of gold.

For certainly she seemed to regard me with the greatest

interest from the first.

Sweetheart, are you looking for a place?

FANNY HILL There was

no mistaking the genuine warmth of that greeting.

And I knew at once I had come to the right person.

Yes, and it please you, mum.

And what do you do, my child.

Oh, I am trained very little, but I'm most willing,

and I think I would be very quick to learn.

As I spoke those fateful words,

destiny itself took a hand.

For before the manageress could so much as offer me a position,

there was a grand entry, an overwhelming scent

of patchouli, and I found myself before the most enchanting

great lady I had ever met.

Angels and ministers of grace defend me.

It is the dead walking again.

My own Drusilla, as I live and breathe,

while she, my own darling, moulders in her grave,

far from her mother's loving care.

Madam?

Dear Mrs. Snow, is not this maiden the very image

of my dear dead daughter?

As like as two peas, Maude, in a pod.

Madam, there must be some mistake.

Oh, no, no.

I realize you are not Drusilla, but the resemblance, my dear,

is so striking.

Upon my soul, it's enough to tear a mother's heart asunder.

What are you doing here, child?

She wants a place, Maude.

Claims she is willing and a quick learner.

Any sort of simple task in the kitchen,

or cleaning up of any kind, or--

Oh, don't soil those dove-like hands with menial labor.

Sooner would I send my own daughter

of whom you are the very image to the salt mines of Siberia.

Mrs. Snow, fate led me here.

Truly, I came looking for a second footman.

I told you Albert wouldn't stay.

Much too young for you, and too roving an eye.

But to find this, Drusilla's own tiny waist,

her rose red lips, Oh, and her surging bosoms.

They are all yours, aren't they, dear?

I mean, they do surge of their own accord?

Drusilla's did.

Oh, yes, yes.

And her flawless, milk white complexion.

Oh, my dear young girl, will you give joy to a grieving mother's

heart by coming with me to be-- oh, no, no, not a maid.

No, no, not a cook, not a scrub girl.

But shall we say, a companion, a replacement for my dear

departed daughter?

What heart could fail to be

untouched by such an appeal?

Here was I, a young girl, desolate and friendless,

and here was this lovely matron, finding surcease

from her grief in my presence.

Within the hour, I was standing in front of Mrs. Brown's house.

Though it was in a rather odd district.

Oh, don't mind the layabouts, love.

The neighborhood's gone down shocking.

But I can't bear to leave because

of poor Drusilla's memory.

And then he tells me he loves me!

Simple little place, but we call it house.

I mean home.

Oh, it's a palace, indeed, madam.

What a dear sweet child, it is, to be sure.

Girls, attendez, s'il vous plait.

Come and see the lovely surprise your auntie has brought you!

And now, as practically a daughter of the house,

you must meet your companions.

Companions?

All dear girls all living here with me.

Offspring of my 12 sisters.

Come to spend the season, and, well, come out, as it were.

Oh, Cousin Phoebe, Cousin Minna, Cousin Emily, Cousin Hortense,

Cousin Esther, Cousin Fenella, Cousin Elsie,

Cousin Dora, Cousin Sybil, and Cousin Amanda, late as usual.

And Cousin Lotus Blossom.

Sister Emma traveled in the Orient, you know.

Oh, dear girls, I hope I didn't interrupt anything.

No, Madam.

We were just getting ready.

Oh, is it that late?

Well, I guess it is.

Time does fly.

We must hurry.

But I did want you to meet our little Fanny.

Oh, I'm sure everyone will love her, sooner or later.

Oh, Madam is too kind.

Oh, don't you think dear Cousin Dinklespieler

will be interested?

Cousin Dinklespieler?

Little Drusilla, my little Drusilla's godfather.

Oh, my dear Cousin Dinklespieler is so wealthy.

Dru was his heiress.

He adored her.

Now, with this remarkable resemblance

of yours, who knows?

He might take the same interest in you.

Martha, love, let me have five extra for tonight.

I've got the Baron and the Prince.

You are getting nothing extra from me,

Even if it's the King.

And don't go stealing the other girls' towels, either.

I'm in the washtub night and day as it is.

It's Martha here and Martha there.

One, two, three.

One, two, three.

There, and that's all you're getting.

Upstairs and downstairs, all day long.

Get no rest at night, either.

I'm only flesh and blood, you know.

More like flesh and bone, if you ask me.

Well, nobody has asked you, Miss.

Ah, I had a figure on me once, that the made men stop dead

in their tracks, and horses bolt right away

with their carriages.

"Marvelous Mammary Martha" they called me then,

the monster maid of Monmouth.

Hide this little rabbit in the sunshine.

Hide this little rabbit in the rain.

All right, all right, Miss Fenella.

Out with your hoop and your lollipop.

The General's here.

The General?

Why do I always get the old one?

They'll get younger as you get older, love!

Just like with the mistress.

And this lover boy!

Have the two of you you'll been racing each other round

in this closet again?

You ready, love?

Ready?

For what, Cousin Phoebe?

Has dear Mrs. brown a task for me to undertake?

I am so eager to help and repay her kindness some way.

You're to take tea with Madam's

Cousin, Mr. Dinklspieler.

Cousin Phoebe, I've just been sitting here, hugging

myself over my good luck.

There's no need to hug yourself,

love, not in this place.

Oh, but everybody does seem so affectionate.

And how kind Mrs. Brown is, and how

fortunate I am to find myself with such

a thoughtful good mistress.

I can't wait to call her "auntie."

And I can't help reflecting, if it not been for kind fate,

why, I might be out on the streets,

helpless and alone this very minute.

You might be helpless, dearie, but you wouldn't be alone,

not in this neighborhood.

Is it so friendly, then?

Too friendly.

Dreadful men hereabouts?

They've paid sixpence for it since the reign of Queen Anne.

And they're not about to recognize times have changed,

and things cost more.

Mother used to tell me prices have

risen up something shocking.

But sixpence for what, Cousin Phoebe?

Why, for a girl's time.

That's what.

Don't tell me you've been taking less?

Oh, I've never been paid for anything in my life.

An amateur?

Don't let the girls know you don't even belong to the Guild.

Oh, I've always been at home with Mother.

That would be Mother Cushingham down in Gin Lane.

You're from her house?

Nay, I know not the lady, Cousin Phoebe.

My mother was Mistress Hill.

Cousin Fanny, just how much do you know about men?

Men, Cousin Phoebe?

Well, um, my father was a man.

And-- and the vicar, he was a man, too, I think.

Well, what about the butcher boy and the baker's apprentice?

Oh.

Oh, my mother would never let me speak to a boy.

She found it unseemly.

There's the bell.

It's your German cousin, Mr. Dinklespieler.

Oh, I am so happy to make the acquaintance of a relative

of dear Mrs. Brown.

Is there much family resemblance?

Well, they're both interested in the same thing.

Now, Fanny, have you never been with a man alone?

Cousin Phoebe, what kind of a girl do you take me for?

I don't know what Madam can mean, bringing untried talent

into a place like this.

Cousin Phoebe, I will not give Mrs. Brown cause to regret

one moment of her generosity.

Inasmuch as kind fate has led me to this peaceful haven,

I have resolved to do everything in my power

to make up to her and her cousin,

too, for the lot of poor Drusilla.

What will we put you into?

White for virginity, pink for willingness, or satin

for stupidity?

Oh, Cousin Phoebe, you think I'm stupid.

Ducks, any girl that doesn't know about men at your age

is just not too bright.

But my mother used to say, innocence

was a girl's best protection.

Mother never worked this house.

There is no protection for a poor girl against a male.

And when a girl's innocent, she's

putty in the hands of the first good-looking devil

who kisses her.

Oh, what's in a kiss.

Heaven and hell, love.

I have been kissed before.

By my parents.

Wait till it's a big hearty grenadier

with a mustache breathing in your ear.

Oh, Cousin Phoebe, what's it like to be

kissed by a mustache?

Does it tickle?

Depends entirely on the sensitivity of the upper lip.

I've even known girls who like a full length,

almost to the floor beard.

They say it's nice to put their feet in on a coolish evening.

Oh, oh, oh, Cousin Phoebe!

I could never get accustomed to that.

It-- it's too funny!

Really, Miss Phoebe, the least you can do

is to change the water before you take your bath.

She's fresh as a young heifer still

romping among the daisies, in an innocent almost

mooing for her mama.

So you say, my dear, so you say.

But I have noted in the past a slight tendency on your part

to exaggeration.

Some of your heifers have turned out to be overblown milk cows.

Dear Dinklespieler, I'm not asking you to purchase,

sight unseen.

You may investigate fully.

Fully?

How fully?

50 guineas worth.

'Odsblood, you ask more for an untried

maiden than the government asks of me in taxes.

A lass like fanny could never be taxing to a man

of your prowess, dear cousin.

I have earned my years well, I dare say, eh?

You have not aged one whit since you bounced

me on your knee years ago.

I bounced you, Madam, but not on my knee!

All right, all right, bring the lass here.

Pray remember, Dear Mr. Dinklespieler, that the girl

thinks we are cousins.

Consanguinity is so reassuring in moments like this.

I have not dared try that in years.

You need equipment, do you not?

A rolling chair with casters, hot and cold running water,

and a trapeze attachment, huh?

No, no, no.

You misunderstand me.

I mean, the girl will be reassured,

if she thinks we are cousins.

Incest?

Pray, cousin, before I bring the lass in,

the palpable evidence of your good faith.

Madam, I am a busy man.

My very being here is evidence of good faith.

Put it on my account.

Backed up by 50 guineas in coin of the realm,

I feel not a moment's hesitation leaving

you alone with the girl.

But without the coins themselves in my hand,

my conscience would scarcely permit me to.

The devil with your conscience.

Bring me the maid.

Fanny, dear, come in and meet one of my dearest relatives,

Cousin Dinklespieler.

Oh, not your old asthma troubling

you again, dear cousin?

Well, I'm sure the company of our pretty Fanny

will chase those morbidities away.

Ah, such beauty, cousin, such grace.

And the image of our dear Drusilla.

Do you not agree?

Oh, it stabs me to the heart, it does.

Come, my child, my pretty one, and kiss

your fond, loving, doting cousin.

Fanny, dear, kiss Cousin Dinklespieler.

Now, there's a good girl.

But, Madam, is it proper to kiss a gentleman when

there is no real relationship?

Dear me, listen to the child.

Dear Fanny, there will be a real relationship

between us very shortly.

Come, kiss me.

There's a dear child.

Madam, she doesn't know how to kiss!

Nor should she, cousin.

Nor should she.

She is only a child, our Fanny is.

Would you not have her blossom under our tutelage,

rather than spring full bloom from the hands of someone else?

True.

Fanny, dear, the most wondrous thing has happened.

Cousin Dinklespieler is these days without a housekeeper.

Carried away, the last one was.

By some dreaded disease, sir?

By the chimney sweep.

And took the silver with them, but I'll have them yet

and transported, or my name is not

Wilhelm Aloysius Dinklespieler, knight of the Hessian Guard,

with all hereditary privileges, what.

Now, meanwhile, as part of your education,

we thought that it might be worth your while

to spend a few weeks--

If I fancy you, girl.

--With Cousin Dinklespieler.

Oh, taking care of his house, looking after him

and lighting the desolate hours of his old age.

Old age?

Old age?

I'm not old!

I am the prime of life!

Worth any two of those young sprouts

you have got sailing the streets for customers.

True, Cousin, true.

A slip of the tongue.

No offense meant, I'm sure.

Sir, but I'm a poor country girl,

untrained and inexperienced.

Would I be capable of discharging

such a responsibility?

I will train you, myself.

My pleasure, young woman.

Show you everything you would be expected to do.

Is there no tea in this house?

Is a man expected to parch to death of thirst

before he is offered a bit of refreshment?

Tea is laid, cousin, before the fire.

Fanny, dear, you pour for Cousin Dinklespieler,

and he'll explain your duties.

And while you have a cozy little chat,

I'll see to a few other cust--

problems.

Now, well, Miss, is all explained to you.

Are you prepared to please me, huh?

Indeed, sir.

I-- I was most touched with the tale

Mrs. Brown told me of your devotion to her own Drusilla.

I'm prepared to be, in every way, what she was to you,

if you so desire it.

Upon my soul, that is the well said.

Give us a kiss, then, lass!

Oh!

Oh, Mr. Dinklespieler!

Oh, sir, what is the meaning of this?

I beg you, desist.

What, Miss?

Did you not this minute say you would do all Drusilla did?

I-- I did, sir, but surely it was not this.

It was, indeed!

But you are family, sir, cousins.

Kissing cousins, have you never heard the term?

Oh, but surely a peck on the cheek is all that's meant.

Well, not in my family.

We are very affectionate.

Mr. Dinklespieler, what if someone should be watching us?

They do that in the next room, the room with the mirror.

Oh, my child, you can have no idea what a lonely life I have

led since poor Dru passed on, how I have yearned, aches,

burned for the companionship of a sweet young person

of the female gender, meanwhile making

do with hussies of housekeepers.

But companionship I understand, sir, but this?

I am sure your housekeepers are not thus engaged.

They are thus engaged, or they are

not engaged by me, at any rate.

Oh, sir, I mean no offense, but I do not

think you have explained all this side of your nature

to your dear cousin and my protectress Mrs. Brown.

What?

I fear you've been about to offend against the laws

of her hospitality, sir.

Now, let's say no more about it.

I, for one, shall not mention it to her.

It would pierce her gentle heart to the quick.

But you will see these unwelcome attentions at once.

Zounds!

And no profanity, if you please.

The vicar used to say it was the mark of a very

small, unimaginative mind.

Why don't you have some more tea, please?

And here, try some of this delicious trifle.

Trifle?

I should trifle at a time like this, when there is so

much more enticing just before me,

ready to pop between my lips?

Oh!

There's sweet meat for a king.

You have ruffled my ruffle, and the dress is not mine.

Oh, what will dear Mrs. Brown say?

She'll say the truth.

You have enticed me, Miss.

You have driven me mad with your witching ways!

You've led me on!

That is not true.

I have done nothing to mislead you.

Oh, please, do not say these things to the only friend

I have in London, to that best of women.

Don't pretend that!

You know the game as well as I, and now

is the time to pay the piper.

Oh, please, sir, mind the tea, the trifle.

Give me no more of trifle.

I want love.

Oh, sir.

Oh, how awful.

I'm sorry.

I hope it didn't stand the fabric.

Fabric be damned, girl!

I have burned, on fire!

Oh, the pain, the pain!

Here is cold water.

I am burning!

Look what you have done.

My wig, it's ruined!

Let me hold it before the fire.

Return that instant!

Oh, you're hurting!

My wig, my very best wig!

My wig!

My wig!

Oh, hell!

Damnable wench!

Open in the name of the Bowe Street Runners.

Open in the name of the Bowe Street Runners.

It's the constable of the law.

What do you want?

Seeking a fugitive from His Majesty's justice,

one Wilhelm Aloysius Dinklespieler

on a charge of debasing the coinage of the realm.

Mr. Dinklespieler debasing the coinage?

Good heavens!

They are right!

Oh, that two-faced old fraud, that deceiving

Don't lay a hand on that innocent child, you old lecher!

Oh, no.

No, you are getting out of here!

No!

What say you?

Once again, it was dear,

kind, good Mrs. Brown who had come to my rescue.

Oh, my poor child.

Ah, can you ever forgive me?

Who could have thought it, a member of my own family

a counterfeiter?

As eventful as was my first day

in London, it was nothing to the happenings which

occurred the following day.

A great naval victory was announced.

And to the boom of cannon and the peeling of church bells,

a veritable congress of the great, the royal,

the loyal, and thousands of sailors

suddenly swarmed through the city.

But at Mrs. Brown's house, none seemed aware of it.

For there it was apparently a custom of all

to sleep to an advanced hour.

Country girl that I was, regardless of the rigors

of the previous day, I was now eager and ready to take

on fresh challenges.

Alas, there seemed to be none.

Thought he city outside appeared to be bursting with life,

Mrs. Brown's house was as quiet as the grave.

There came the most prodigious knocking at the door.

Fearful my young companions would be awakened from a sleep

which, for some reason they appeared

to be in great need of, I hastened to discover the reason

for this unseemly disturbance.

One moment, I pray you.

Ahoy there, ahoy.

Woo.

Must you make so much noise, sir?

The house is asleep.

Do you mean sleeping, my pretty, or merely in bed?

Both, sir.

In bed and sleeping?

Oh, what a waste.

Is it not, sir?

Where one could be doing so many other things?

Does a lass your age know so many other things to do?

Oh, sir, yes.

I'm a country girl, and all county girls

are acquainted with a thousand ways to spend

as fair a morning as this.

You're rather new here, aren't you?

Oh, yes, sir.

I only came here but yesterday.

Oh.

Oh, no, please, there's no point in your coming in.

There's no one here to entertain you, but myself.

Oh, don't be modest, child.

We're not here on official business.

You alone would be more than sufficient.

As it is, I must see your mistress at once.

Please conduct me to her.

But sir, I explained.

She's asleep.

I could hardly take you to her bed chamber.

Bless you, my child, for your delicacy.

That is not a prospect a man of my rank faces unmoved.

But when duty calls, I'm quite prepared to gaze

into the face of horror.

So come on, lass.

Cast off.

Rule Britannia, Britannia rule the wave.

Oh.

- Oh. - Oh.

Are you all right, sir?

Oh, it's just the high seas.

Oh, why did mother ever put me in the navy?

Well, come on.

Show me the old gal's cabin.

Oh, please, sir.

I will endeavor to do as you wish and awaken Mrs. Brown.

But please, whom should I say is calling?

I'm emissary of His Royal Highness, the Duke of--

never mind.

Tell the old bawd that the official emissary

of Cherry Bye Bye is here.

Cherry Bye Bye?

Cherry Bye Bye?

Bye bye.

Achoo!

Ma'am?

Oh please, ma'am, do wake up.

Why?

Why?

Who's there?

It's me, Fanny.

Fanny who?

Oh, Madam, please, Fanny Hill.

What on earth are you doing, Fanny,

waking me up at this hour?

It's the middle of the night.

Oh, I'm sorry, Madam, but--

Oh.

Oh, that terrible cat.

It will creep in with me while I'm asleep.

Now, off with you, you bold thing.

Find yourself a mouse.

Now, what is it, child?

Oh, I'm sorry, Madam, but there is the most

insistent gentleman to see you.

Nobody before 5:00 on Tuesdays.

Everyone knows that.

But, Madam, he said it was official,

and that you'd know someone called Cherry Bye Bye.

I don't care who--

Cherry?

Bye Bye.

His Royal Highness!

Oh, oh, my robe, my slippers, my cologne,

my-- my-- my face cloth.

My-- oh, my wig, oh, my heaven!

My mistress, it appeared,

had the most wonderful friends in high places.

An invitation, nay, a royal command

had been tended to all of us girls staying at the house

to attend an afternoon garden party in the country.

Really, James, what do you mean,

showing yourself in the halls half

dressed and your wig untidy?

Go down and put yourself in order at once.

Dear Mrs. Brown, always so

observant of the proprieties.

I knew I need never worry over my reputation,

as long as I was under her wing.

Well, this is the height of my season.

The cost is high, even for His Highness.

Quite, Madam.

His Royal Cherry Bye Bye, wishing

to celebrate our naval victory in truly

royal and fitting fashion, has naturally thought of you.

He also, my dear lady, sends a little contribution

to your favorite charity.

Oh, gold, gold.

Oh, Madam, this is a fortune.

Oh, it's nothing, nothing, dear child.

Merely get-away money in case of fire, plague,

or descent of the authorities.

How wonderful

it was to see Mrs. Brown's noble and charitable nature

recognized by Royalty itself.

And how honored I felt to have even

a small part in her activities.

Well, send the horses when you will, sir.

My girls will be quite ready.

They all adore riding.

Girls, front and center!

You're all getting back in the saddle again!

That very afternoon

found us arriving at the charming pleasure

grounds of Castle--

alas, they never told me the name of the castle.

Nor indeed of any of the guests, who, oddly enough,

except for us girls, were all gentlemen.

I shall never forget the eager welcome

we received as we arrived.

I never realized before our navy was quite so high spirited.

But after all those months at sea,

it was understandable their manners could

have lost some of their polish.

Oh, it's lovely.

Oh, just a simple little country pavilion, my dear.

We call it the couch and four.

Say, do you like games?

Oh, I adore games.

Well, then let's waste no time.

How about a stimulating spot of blind man's bluff, eh?

I most especially adore blind man's bluff.

Who's going to be it?

You, my dear, of course!

It's always the young lady the way we play.

Come on, now.

Bounce here, and we're going to blindfold you.

Bounce, bounce, bounce!

London girls are drinking up,

tripping up, kicking up.

London girls after falling down, my fair laddie.

Come and help us off the street, off our feet, quick and neat.

Love is what we're with replete, sweet old daddy.

Some of us are but 15.

Sweet not me, fresh and green.

All of us are a bit obscene, not good--

night, daddy.

Now, don't spin me too hard.

I get very dizzy.

It's all right, dear.

If you fall, there's a couch to receive you,

and eager arms to support you.

OK, now, spin once and go on.

Spin ahead.

Spin ahead.

Go, go.

All right, Fanny, go ahead now.

Straight on, straight on.

I don't know where I'm going to.

Am I going the right way?

I've got you.

Oh!

Hello, somebody?

Hello?

FANNY HILL What dear,

fun-loving lads they were.

I thanked heaven poor Mrs. Brown had not accompanied us.

How it would have grieved her generous heart to see the way

her very own relatives were forgetting themselves,

and in the presence of royalty.

I could not but fear what His Royal

Highness the Duke must think.

Cousin Emily.

Oh, Cousin Fanny.

Oh.

Oh, please, meet His Royal Highness.

You know, I just lost a forfeit to him, at hide and seek.

Your servant, ma'am.

Charming game, what?

Brings back memories of childhood and all that sort

of rot, eh?

Hm.

Ho, ho.

Ta-ta.

Ta-ta.

Cousin Hortense, has everybody lost a forfeit playing

hide and seek?

Oh, no, dear.

They're just bathing.

It's a health measure Mrs. Brown insists

on at these outdoor gatherings.

Oh.

Stop and join the fun, love.

But there are men here, Cousin.

And His Royal Highness is right there behind the tree

with Cousin Emily.

Cousin Emily is only showing His Highness

her tattoos acquired as a child in Bombay, India.

Oh, tattoos?

Ah, there you are, girls.

Forfeit, forfeit!

Tag, you're it!

You're it!

Here, here.

A forfeit, a forfeit!

Give me back my kerchief, please.

Here I go.

Oh, that's not my kerchief.

Mrs. Brown lent it to me.

Give it back to me!

Give it back to me.

Give it back to me.

Oh!

Oh, give it back to me.

Follow me.

Come on.

I've got it, I've got it.

Give it to me.

Look, look.

Here it is.

Get it, if you can.

Someone, help me.

Help, help.

Sorry, love.

Never quite learned how to swim, you know.

Help, help, help!

Someone help me!

I'm sinking.

Help!

Someone help me.

Oh.

Save a girl from a fate worse than death.

Help, help, help!

Miss.

Madam.

Miss, please.

I beg you.

Speak, please.

Are you all right?

Or should I summon help?

Oh, pray, sir, do not do that.

Oh, you're not dressed.

Oh, I-- I beg you.

I beg you forgive my-- my lack of attire,

but when I saw you lying there, I thought you were drowning.

Are you ill, ma'am?

Your cheeks are fevered.

Your pulses are racing.

And ma'am, your breathing.

Your breathing is remarkable, indeed, ma'am.

In-- in one of your tender years.

Pray tell me, what horrible past brings

a fair young girl such as yourself

to attempt self-slaughter?

I was not committing suicide.

Oh, I--

I was playing hide and seek.

Oh, I--

I most humbly crave your pardon, ma'am,

but I was under the impression I was an unwilling witness

to one of life's tragedies.

Oh, it is a tragedy.

What will dear Mrs. Brown say, that paragon of virtue,

now that I've spoiled her lovely clothes.

Don't be distressed, ma'am.

I'm sure if you but wash it out here in this pond.

Oh, indeed, I will be happy to do it for you

and let it dry on these bushes.

There will be no complaint from your mistress.

Wash it out, with you here?

Oh, never.

I'm a sailor, ma'am, and quite accustomed to washing things.

If you will permit me, oh, you need not even take it off.

Just step towards the lake, and I will wash it on.

Wash it on me?

I could never permit that.

Well, then, slip out of it and throw to me.

Sir, I wear nothing underneath but a chemise.

Oh.

But if the mud dries on the dress,

you may never get it off.

May I-- may I present myself, ma'am?

I'm Ensign Charles Sprocket, of His Majesty's Navy.

My name is Francis Hill, but everyone calls me Fanny.

Fanny, pretty name.

And so apropos.

Turn your back.

Oh, it was on that voyage to the South Seas.

We penetrated up the cannibal river.

Well, I think it's dry now.

Cannibal river?

Do they eat one another?

Constantly.

Oh!

Be not afraid, ma'am.

It's but thunder.

Oh, forgive me, but I'm terrified of thunder.

We'll be killed.

Oh, and the dress will be ruined!

Bring the dress in here.

OK.

Upon my honor, ma'am, the thunder

really will not hurt you.

It terrifies me.

Ooh.

I should have stayed at home with dear kind Mrs. Brown,

where I was safe, instead of coming out here,

ruining her lovely clothes.

Oh.

I know what I'll do.

If you don't object, sir.

What?

I'll take off your jacket and wrap it

around Mrs. Brown's dress, so the dress will

be protected, if you permit.

Take off my jacket?

But-- but you're only wearing a chemise.

Oh, but that's the only way to do it.

I must protect Mrs. Brown's dress.

Now, close your eyes, please, and help me off

with the jacket.

Well, dear young lady, I'm--

I'm-- I'm not at all sure.

Oh, do not protest, please.

Please, sir, please.

Well, I-- I fear I'm not too familiar

with undressing ladies, ma'am.

Sir?

Oh, I--

I beg your pardon, ma'am.

I'm sure I--

Sir, my hands.

My hand's lit upon something.

No.

It moved.

Oh, no.

Oh, yes.

I fear there's a mouse in the haystack with us.

And I'm terrified of mice.

So am I. Let it go.

Maybe it'll run away.

Oh, sir, sir, I felt it move again.

Let it alone.

I'm sure it has a family to run off to.

Oh, the rain is getting in.

Oh, please, sir, burrow back into the hay further.

No, no.

I think we have gone quite far enough already.

Oh, no.

The dress is getting soaked.

Further back, please.

Oh, no, no, no.

Not so quickly.

Don't leave me.

The rodent may return.

Oh, what a silly girl you must think

I am, terrified of thunderstorms and mice.

Everybody is terrified of something, I suppose.

Oh, not you, sir.

You're so manly and strong.

At the moment, I'm weak as a kitten.

Oh, I-- I couldn't help but see you at the pond.

You have a marvelous configuration

of your musculature.

Could you see that?

Oh, yes, sir.

I have never seen a man without his clothes before.

Only statues.

But I think you look quite like one.

Oh, statues.

Oh, yes.

Marble ones, I suppose you mean.

And nearly as hard as one, aren't you, sir?

All that exercise, I suppose.

Oh, it-- it makes me think so weak and soft,

pressed against you this way.

Oh, I-- I can positively feel your muscles, sir.

Oh, outdoor life from the high seas, very strenuous.

Oh, you know something, sir?

What?

I was not afraid as I was before.

Really, I was not.

Please, please, ma'am, ma'am, flesh and blood can--

can only stand so much.

Sir?

Sir?

Oh, I fear there is another mouse in the haystack

with us, a bigger one.

Oh, oh, I fear this whole haystack is infested with them.

Madam, I understand this young lady is under your protection.

You-- you might call it that.

Then, ma'am, may I say, I would

like your permission to sue for this young lady's hand.

Sue for?

To marry her, Madam.

Please, modulate your voice, young man.

Someone could overhear you.

Marry her?

Good heavens, why?

I have seen her without a dress.

I have held her in my arms in a haystack.

I have even kissed her, Madam.

In short, I must marry her.

Oh, Charles.

Are you aware, sir, what circumstances that word "must"

conjures up in my mind?

Certainly, Madam.

That I love her.

Oh, please, Mrs. Brown, do consent.

For I love him.

I hope Fanny and I can be married on the morrow,

by midday at latest.

Topping kidneys, Madam.

My own, the recipe, that is.

Oh.

And what, pray tell, is the name of your ship, Ensign?

Madam, it is HMS Decorum.

How touchingly apropos.

Charles, dear, do they ever let wives travel on board?

Oh hardly ever, love.

Unless, of course, one is an admiral, with a title.

Oh, I'm sure it won't take you long to become an admiral

and have a title, will it, Mrs. Brown?

No, it won't take long.

Not long at all.

Oh, no, please.

I never touch spirits.

But it isn't spirits, ducky.

It's wine.

After your hard day and what with being married tomorrow,

believe me, you should have it, love.

But I-- I promised Mother.

After all, I'm in loco parentis to you now.

Am I not, sir?

What with giving the bride away and all?

Indeed, ma'am.

Kindness such as yours is rarely met with in this sad world.

Oh.

A toast, Fanny, to Mrs. Brown.

Oh, too bad.

Caught.

And the last decanter, too.

That James, I can never find a second footman

who can do everything well.

Alas.

No matter.

Fanny, to our second mother, and our generous and good friend

Mrs. Brown.

It's too kind of you.

It's really nothing.

Sweet benefactress,

whose only thought was my future and my happiness,

we shall not soon look upon thy like again.

Well, Madam?

Someplace far away, quite far away.

Barbados is a long way from London.

You are the kindest and most considerate of gallants.

One endeavors, Madam.

Oh, you're sure there's no mistake?

It was Ensign Sprocket?

Yes, Madam.

That was the name of the young man gave

me when he pawned these things.

Mine is a strictly legitimate business.

I hope you understand, ma'am.

Poor fellow.

He said he was escaping from some female with whom

he'd become entangled.

Female?

Oh, oh, oh.

Thus did my wonderful Charles, my first,

my one and only love, vanish from my life as

suddenly as he had appeared.

Oh, tears, tears, my pretty.

Now, I know how you feel.

But there's still life to live.

You are young, and beautiful, and with your way

to make in the world.

You will soon forget your young man.

Forget Charles?

Never!

Oh, nonsense.

What you need is occupation, work.

And I have just the thing for you.

Fresh surroundings and new interests

will soon make you happy again.

As well as keep you out of trouble.

Now, we'll dry those tears and put on your bonnet,

and we'll be off.

FANNY HILL Mrs. Brown

had a little millinery shop across the town, in Mayfair.

It was a charming establishment.

But for a woman's hat shopping, Mrs. Brown

certainly had few hats and an unusual clientele.

Now, after all, love, women dress to please men.

So what better idea than to have a shop, where men can choose

the hats for their wives, their sweethearts,

but for themselves?

Well, don't you agree?

Yes.

At 4:00 on the dot.

At 4:00?

Yes, sir.

You may pay at the cash desk, if you will, sir.

In advance of delivery?

A rule of the house.

Don't worry.

You'll like what I bring you.

Ah.

Now, that will be your job, dear, collecting the money

and keeping track of the deliveries.

The dear duke again, dear?

Yes, Madam.

14th time this week.

I'm quite worn out.

Oh, dear child.

Noblesse oblige!

But Mrs. Brown, what could a duke want with 14 lady's hats

a week?

Oh, he has a large family of unmarried female relatives.

New hats keep their spirits up.

But that poor girl's fingers must be worn out.

All that stitching alone must be exhausting.

It's not the fingers that get tired, dear.

It's thinking up new trimmings that gets a girl down.

FANNY HILL Thus I was

installed in my new position.

But the girls were out on delivery so often,

I wondered when they had time to make their hats.

And I think we were the only millinery shop in all of London

to stay open all night.

No wonder we had so few hats left to sell.

The gentlemen customers flocked to us,

and the girls were constantly on call,

dashing from one end of town to the other many times a day,

and far into the night.

The busier girls were wearing out several boxes each week.

I was proud, alone and in sole charge of the shop,

when my first customer made his appearance.

Needless to say, I had never made or even sold a hat before.

Good evening, sir.

How do you do?

Pray, come in.

Uh, is this that--

that shop that I've had spoken about by my friends?

I trust so.

This is a very good shop.

My friends told me that you specialize

in gentlemen customers.

Indeed, we have many male clients.

Are you looking for a model to take home, sir?

No, no, no, not take home.

Not with Mother in town.

Never, understand.

Not Mother.

Oh, then-- then you want to order something special?

Yes, exactly.

And then-- no.

I'm afraid, sir, we have very little on hand

to show you this evening.

Most of the models have been sent out.

But as you heard of us from your friends,

you must be aware we only have the best.

If you don't find what you are interested in,

we can procure anything.

Ah, you can.

You are very kind, indeed.

Won't you sit down, sir?

I'm not too familiar with the stock.

I've only been here a short time.

But I will do everything in my power

for you, if you can describe what you have in mind.

Describe?

Describe?

I can't possibly describe it.

Words fail to create a sense of delicacy.

Shy, you know.

Damnable affliction.

Brought up in the country, strict mother,

domineering aunts, impressionable character.

Result, disasters.

Oh, come now, sir.

You shouldn't say that.

It seems to me you are a very well-spoken gentleman, indeed.

Too generous.

Forgive lack of savoir-faire.

Blush easily, diffident nature, weak character,

and getting very desperate now.

Don't apologize, Sir I quite understand.

I'm-- I'm very shy myself.

You are?

Really?

I, too, was brought up in the country.

It does make city life a bit of a problem.

Oh, it does.

Does it not indeed?

Yes.

What sort of thing were you looking for, sir?

Well, I'm looking for--

you won't misunderstand me, please?

My dear, sir, certainly not.

Go on.

I'm looking for something young.

Something young?

Oh, then your worries are over.

That's la specialité de la maison.

Oh.

Mrs. Brown the proprietress, she specializes in the young.

Nothing easier.

It's just a question of choosing the one you like.

Well, that's very gratifying.

Ooh, there was a charming bit that went out this afternoon.

Please, excuse me.

But when I say young, I mean quite young.

"Virginal" is perhaps the best word.

"Virginal"?

Nothing shopworn, you understand?

I couldn't bear that.

Shopworn?

My dear sir, certainly not from this shop.

Mrs. Brown has her standards.

You are most understanding.

Well, that's what I'm here for.

Do you undertake any of this sort of work yourself?

Oh.

Oh, not yet.

It's all still a little bewildering.

In fact, I'm not truly used to anything yet.

Not anything at all?

Well, it takes a while, you know.

So the girls tell me.

I-- I haven't made one yet.

No, really?

But I soon shall.

I know I can be just as good as the others,

once I get the hang of it.

How come a nice girl like you, working in a situation

like this?

Well, just lucky, I guess.

It-- it occurs to me that you might be just

the person who could help me.

You're so understanding.

But I might-- might not be satisfactory at all.

I don't know enough yet.

But that's just the point.

I don't want anything sophisticated.

I can't bear that.

I want something simple, innocent.

Do you understand?

Oh, but, sir, still one must have some--

some technical knowledge.

No, no, not at all.

That would ruin everything.

Can I ask you, please, to oblige me personally?

Oh, sir, that's-_ that's a very great compliment,

I'm sure.

But Mrs. Brown the owner would have to consent.

You see now, I'm just a--

a-- a little bit more than an apprentice.

But that's just what I'm looking for!

Yeah!

Oh, she's such a darling girl.

You would be so grateful to me that you've met her.

Just take one look.

Tell me.

Look.

Can you tell me how old she is?

Oh, she's very young.

She's a virgin.

But you must be very careful.

Of course.

Oh, but she's a darling.

What were you up to last night?

Shh, Mrs. Brown will hear you.

You know how she feels about loose talk.

Do we not know about Mother Brown?

"Mother"?

How can you talk in such familiar terms

about our dear friend?

The woman is a saint.

Oh, he's had a tragic life, poor boy.

Despite all that money, he was left

to the mercy of his tutors.

You know what they did to a sensitive, misunderstood youth

like that.

What?

Well, it's marked him, it has.

Something cruel.

He still bears the scars?

Inside.

Oh, brutes.

You see immediately how in need

of sympathetic understanding companionship

the poor youth was.

He did seem so lonely last night.

But so devoted to his mother.

A mother alone, my dear, is not enough for a grown youth.

I dare say not, Madam.

I must confess, he opened up his heart to me,

my dear, this morning.

Oh, yes.

He is very struck with your own sweet self.

But, Madam, we only but talked a half hour.

Well, what has time to do with things like this?

Now, Romeo and Juliet, those immortal lovers,

met, loved, wed, and died all within two weeks.

Oh, good evening, Mr. Norbert.

Oh, you have not brought me flowers.

I couldn't possibly accept them.

And heather is so expensive this time of the year.

But it's not heather, Mr. Fanny.

It's not heather?

It looks like heather.

It smells like heather.

It must be heather.

It's a birch switch, the same as they

used on me in my boyhood.

Oh, really?

Stood up remarkably well, hasn't it?

It's not exactly the same one.

I had it made up, especially to show you.

Oh, why?

Why should I want to be shown, Mr. Norbert?

Because I want you to understand what

I've been through.

Oh, they were so cruel.

Oh, they were such cruel beasts, Miss Fanny.

On the other hand, had there been one such as yourself,

a tender virginal maiden, oh, that would

have made such a difference.

Oh, but, Mr. Norbert, I'm sure you've done

nothing to be punished for.

Oh, but I did, I did, I did.

I swear.

I was a very naughty boy.

I needed punishment.

I'm that sort.

Do you understand.

Mr. Norbert, don't soil your lovely trousers.

Get up.

I have a confession to make.

But we hardly know each other.

No, no, no, no.

You must listen to me.

I am still very, very naughty.

And I still need punishment, desperately.

But you are a grown man, Mr. Norbert.

I know, but all the time I do the most terrible things.

And all my life, I've had nothing

but bad thoughts continuously.

But if a gentle maiden such as yourself

would give me the punishment that I so truly deserve,

then my conscience will be free.

Please, take pity on me, Miss Fanny.

Please, take pity on me.

Punish me!

Punish me!

Mr. Norbert, I don't believe in punishment.

Make me your slave, make me your slave!

Only by being chastised by a young maiden can I be forgiven!

Mrs. Brown!

Oh, dear.

Mrs. Brown!

But you have to be cruel, my dear, in order to be kind!

Mrs. Brown!

Remove my sins, dear young lady.

Beat the devil out of me!

Mr. Norbert, I must ask you to get

the Mephistopheles out of here.

Nay, nay, nay!

Yea, yea, yea!

Oh!

Oh, good gracious.

Oh, Mrs. Brown, help!

Someone, help!

Mrs. Brown, Mrs. Brown, help, help, help!

Mrs. Brown, Mrs. Brown!

Help!

Oh, the poor hats.

My one thought

was to regain the safety of Mrs. Brown's protecting arms.

Unfortunately, they were already occupied.

Fanny, dear child.

That's enough, James.

Run down the kitchen and tell cook

to give you a nice cup of tea, and you'll soon feel better.

Poor James is so emotional.

Goes into these fits of homesickness ever so often,

and there's nothing to do but give him a little pat.

But what are you doing home so early, lovey?

I thought you were spending the evening

with that charming Mr. Norbert.

I could not, Madam.

I think Mr. Norbert is very, very ill.

Really?

Oh, there is a lot of grip about lately.

And I did hear of a case or two of bubonic plague

down at the docks.

But I didn't think any of it has spread to the quality yet.

Has he broken out in spots?

Oh, he's ill up here, Madam.

Oh, dear Mrs. Brown, I think you've been quite

mistaken about that young man.

He asked me to do the most extraordinary things.

Oh?

Oh!

Dear, thoughtful Mrs. Brown,

she forgave all.

Push in, James.

Push in.

Push.

Now, hold it.

Hold, Hortense.

Push.

There, there.

Push.

Push, James, push!

Hold it now.

That's it.

Now hold it, Hortense.

Just hold.

Push, James.

There she goes again, cry, cry, cry, night and day.

It's enough to drive a decent girl out of her mine.

You haven't been decent for years.

My customers are complaining.

They don't like weeping with their kissing.

Mine seem to love the sound of a few genuine tears

in a place like this.

Do you want this lollipop?

Girls, remember where you are.

If there's one thing I pride myself on,

it's that I've never permitted vulgarity in this house!

Now, thank you, Hortense.

Oh, James, I don't know what I'd do without that great strength

of yours.

Psst.

Mudge.

Mudge, well, you should be on the high seas.

Madam, we started, but just on the Thames,

we collided with a man of war and sank.

About that young man.

I thought you had best be told.

Told?

Told what?

He drowned?

No, Madam.

I regret to say he did not.

It appears he's a first class swimmer.

He saved the lives of the captain, the first mate,

the cook, and myself.

Oh, alive?

Good heavens.

Where is he now?

Being awarded a medal, Madam, at the Good Friends

of the Sailor Society.

But he'll be on his way here.

All he can speak about is that young woman, Fanny.

He's going to marry her.

Well, he can't marry Fanny.

I've got plans for her.

Many plans.

Why, Cousin Hemingway alone should be

good for at least 500 guineas.

Oh, how could this happen?

I'm deeply sorry, Madam.

The captain drinks, you see.

And in the moonlight, he mistook a man

of war for the Tower of London.

One turn of the wheel, and oh, what a ruddy bang!

Well, thank you, Mudge.

Goodbye, Mudge.

Goodbye, ma'am.

Martha, my coach.

Girls!

Girls, come at once.

What is it now?

Girls, this is important.

I have a job for you.

Girls, that boy Fanny's involved with is on his way here.

Now, she mustn't see him.

It would ruin everything.

Her whole career would be shot to Guyana.

Now, when he arrives, you girls distract him.

Detain him.

Get him out of love!

James, my green satin.

A sailor?

Then he'll fancy a mustache.

Perhaps he'd like a little sister.

It would be nice to have a young man for a change.

Oh, if he's a sailor, I'll make

him feel at home with a touch of the cat.

Lash him to the mast, and swing

him from the and throw him in the deep blue sea.

Emily, save that for the customers.

FANNY HILL Mrs. Brown

said the city was no place for a nice girl like me,

and she knew just the place to go, to her Cousin Hemingway

at his ancestral seat.

Yes, and this, Cousin Hemingway,

is my cherished Fanny.

I love her dearly.

And I know if I leave her with you,

you will look after her well.

Had a nervous shock, I see.

Dear, dear.

Rest is what the poor child needs, dear cousin.

Rest, rest, rest.

Rest?

I will personally see she is never out of bed.

I will hold her down myself, if she tries to start.

But sir, I--

you're too kind.

I'm afraid I would be an unconscionable bother for you.

I never mind being bothered in a good cause, my dear.

It's quite apparent to me, you're a very good cause.

Indeed.

I believe in comfort, my dear.

Comfort at all costs.

And I keep an adequate staff to ensure

I can get anything I want, any time I want, any way I want.

It was obvious he

was a man of great wealth, for indeed he lived magnificently.

And I was positively amazed at the size of his large staff.

This is Clotilde, Brunhilde, Matilda, the bed chambermaid.

No, that's Clotilde.

Don't hesitate to ring for them if you want them.

Any hour of the day or night.

Most obliging nurses.

Come along, come along.

We will trundle you off to bed this very moment.

It's high time.

And this will be your bedroom, my dear.

I haven't seen the nervous condition yet

that hasn't responded to it.

Never in all

my night had I been so pampered, so spoiled, so attended to.

Ah, in bed.

Well, my dear child, sleep well.

Oh, Madam, I'm so grateful to you

for bringing me to such a magnificent house.

I can always count on Cousin Hemingway

giving my little friends an eager and warm welcome.

He's a prince among men, with a great understanding of

the problems of the weaker sex.

Good night, sweet.

Mrs. Brown, is it proper that I should be left

alone here without a chaperone?

Well, after all, my dear Cousin Hemingway is a doctor.

True, it's only of mineralogy, but the thought is there.

There is, of course, just one thing.

What, Madam?

Well, giving so much of his time and attention

for the benefit of other people has worked a sad toll

on Cousin Hemingway's strength.

He has a-- a weakness.

A weakness, Madam?

Should you by any chance encounter

him in the middle of it, by no means must you disturb him.

Oh, no, I won't, Madam.

But, pray, what is the nature of his weakness?

He is a--

a somnambulist.

A so--

Somnambulist.

A somnabulist?

Madam, I thought men like that shot themselves.

Nay, my dear Fanny.

You do not understand.

He walks in his sleep, does Cousin Hemingway.

Oh, he's a sleepwalker.

Exactly.

Oh, there is no danger.

Except, poor thing, he must be humored.

Should you encounter him during one of his lapses,

for as everyone knows, to waken a sleepwalker from his sleep

can have fatal consequences.

Oh, how dreadful.

There's not a dearer, sweeter man

there is in the entire world, except for this one disability.

But, Madam, does the fit when it's upon him last long?

Well, that generally depends on the girl he's with.

The girl?

Or person.

It can be anyone.

A stable boy, a milk maid.

Oh, they've all had experiences with him.

Say, finding him in the fields in the middle of the night,

and helping him over a style, or gently

lead him away from a precipice.

But as I say, the important thing is not to waken him.

Now, can you remember that?

Oh, yes, Madam I will.

I am most conscious of all I owe you and your dear

Cousin Hemingway for taking me in such

a difficult period of my life.

Believe me, I will be most considerate

of his sleepwalking.

And by any chance, if he should be awakened,

it will not be through my doing, I promise.

That's my good girl.

Somehow, I knew you'd understand.

Good night.

Good night.

Sleep came easily to me that night.

I was hardly able to believe my good fortune

in once again finding myself in the hands of such kind,

understanding folk.

I seemed to know now I was safe, secure from life's storms,

trials, and tribulations.

Somehow, how I shall never know, for I

am generally a very heavy sleeper,

I felt that I was no longer alone!

I could hear nothing, nor could I at first see anyone.

Then, suddenly, across the room I perceived a form!

Horror of horrors, it was none other

than my kind host, Cousin Hemingway,

just as dear Mrs. Brown had warned.

He was deep in a somnambulistic fit.

I realized immediately, he was, of course, harmless.

After all, he didn't know what he was doing.

Nevertheless, I felt it was at best

an ambiguous situation for a young girl

to find herself involved in.

I dared not ring for assistance, for I remembered Mrs. Brown's

warnings of the terrible consequences

of awakening a sleepwalker.

What should I do?

What, I asked myself, could he be dreaming of?

What could he have on his mind?

I could only presume he was reliving some childhood game.

Perhaps a brisk game of tag with some young companions.

I resolved to enter into the spirit of the thing

as best I might.

However, he proved tireless, as well

equipped with an amazing sixth sense where I had gone.

I began to fear he might meet with harm.

One could see what a beautiful childhood must

have been his, for he played with the fervor

and abandon of a two-year-old.

Though I began to fear for a man no longer in his first youth

he might be overtaxing himself.

Drastic measures, therefore, were obviously in order.

Oh!

What is it?

What's happened?

What's happened?

Oh, Cousin Hemingway, merciful heavens.

Oh, dear.

Oh, dear.

Fanny.

Oh, Fanny.

Now, Fanny!

Fanny?

Fanny, where are you?

Here, Mom.

Where?

Where?

Way up here, Mom.

Oh, Fanny.

What happened?

Oh, dear Mrs. Brown, you'll never forgive me.

I very much fear I have awakened Mr. Hemingway.

Good morning.

Where am I?

Despite his accident, however,

Mr. Hemingway did not appear to cherish

any resentment against me.

Idiots, idiots, numskulls!

I'm feeling monstrous!

Oh, pray, pray, dear Cousin Hemingway,

now, don't excite yourself.

Excite myself?

Madam, until you have had a chandelier fall on you,

pray do not presume to tell me when

and how I shall become excited!

Shh.

Oh, my smelling salts, my cologne water.

His smelling salts, his cologne water.

My pills!

His pills.

Now get his pills and things.

Oh, now, Cousin Hemingway.

Go ahead!

Oh, Madam, I must have that wench.

And so you shall, Cousin Hemingway.

So you shall.

Why else did I bring her here?

But if she was only so invincibly innocent.

Though I could slip a sleeping potion into her nightly cocoa.

While she lies there unconscious?

Madam, this girl's entire charm is her grace, her bounce,

her vitality, her life.

Oh, could you but have seen her last night,

leaping from chair, to table, to mantelpiece,

to chandelier, swinging through the bed canopy.

She was a young Diana.

A miracle of athletic loveliness.

Madam, I want that girl's completes surrender,

conscious surrender.

Her love, In short.

Well, I'm sure no one is more lovable than you,

Cousin Hemingway.

And no doubt the girl can be persuaded,

one way or the other, to do as you wish.

But I still think sleeping potions in the cocoa

is more reliable.

Oh, that's insufferably dull.

Madam, you are looking at a man pierced by cupid's arrow.

She must come to my bed willingly, of her own accord.

Oh, well, if you will be a romantic, cousin!

Oh, she's an orphan.

So she naturally can't be blackmailed.

And I rather doubt if knowing her she

can be successfully intimidated by a show of force.

I dare say, you could slip a little ring

on her fourth digit, of course.

Slip a what on her which?

Marry her, dear cousin.

That would succeed.

It always does.

Marry her?

Are you out of your mind?

I only want to sleep with the wench,

not spend a life with her!

Exactly, cousin, exactly.

Cousin Hemingway, you do surprise me.

I thought after the accident with the chandelier,

you might very well have ordered me from your house.

Sorry, what's one chandelier?

I have rooms full of them.

But last night, when I saw you perched up top of that bed

canopy, staring down at me with the most distressed expression,

I said to myself, here the real thing at last, love, true love.

But, Cousin Hemingway, I can't.

I have long since lost my heart to another.

Dear girl, youthful innocent attachment is one thing.

I trust it was innocent.

Um--

But a mature man such as myself, obviously not only

the more domestic and intimate joys

of wedded bliss, security, a fine household,

but intellectual companionship also.

Fanny, make me the happiest man on earth.

As a charge on generous Mrs. Brown,

your beauty would soon fade in the drudgery of poverty.

But as my cherished spouse, you will

never have to lift one finger for the rest of your life.

Why, I have 18--

no, I'm telling a fib.

I have 24 maids, all prepared to indulge your slightest whim.

Oh, Fanny, dearest, loveliest, sweetest Fanny,

give me your hand in matrimony.

I knew I could no longer continue

to be a burden on Mrs. Brown.

She had already been only too kind.

Charles had left me, and Mr. Hemingway had

certainly been kindness itself.

Very well, Mr. Hemingway.

If you truly wish it, I will be your bride.

Oh, glorious day!

Wonderful night to come.

Oh, little bridge!

However, as fate would have it,

it was not to be a country wedding.

Mr. Hemingway's house was consumed by fire in something

like 13 minutes, 43 seconds.

A new record for that size house.

And that very day, we repaired back

to Mrs. Brown's house in town to celebrate our nuptials.

Slut, good for nothing.

That's the fifth place you have lost.

I've half a mind to--

Sweetheart, are you looking for a place?

Yes, and it please you, ma'am.

My dear, your voice is like a foghorn,

and what's your bust all covered up for in this weather, dearie?

Oh, a head cold.

Achoo!

Name?

Char-- achoo.

Charlotte.

God bless.

And, uh, what do you do?

Oh, practically anything, ma'am.

Dear me.

That's the worst laryngitis I've heard in years.

Have a lozenge.

I do hope it's not catching.

Still, you are not a bad-looking piece.

If a mite on the tall side.

But those shoulders.

Country girl?

Oh, it's the plowing, ma'am.

I-- I had heard from a girlfriend,

She was very happy with a lady named Mrs. Brown.

I, uh, was wondering if--

A girl?

What girl told you about Mrs. Brown?

Oh, she said she was such a good mistress,

and it was such a nice house to live in.

I thought--

Uh, Mrs. Brown?

Yes, not a bad suggestion at that.

Sometimes a big, strapping young wench proves very popular.

Oh, thank you.

I did so have my heart set on Mrs. Brown's house.

Hm?

Huh?

Come back after 3:00.

We'll be open then till midnight.

Private party.

Oh, thought you were a customer.

And what do you want?

I have a note for Mrs. Brown.

Well, she can't see no one now.

It's from a Mrs. Snow about a place here, for me.

Snow?

That old trout.

Well, all right.

Madam will see you when she can.

And latch that door.

And find yourself a seat.

Hello, sweetie.

I haven't seen you around here before.

What's your name?

Funny.

Girls. girls, you're not trying!

You're bridesmaids.

Now, be a little more maidenly, please.

It isn't every day we have a wedding around here.

That my little sugar plum crying?

Oh, tears of a happy anticipation, dear cousin.

After the ceremony, she will leap into your arms

with shrill shrieks of girlish enthusiasm.

Shrill shrieks?

The shrillest, cousin.

Esmeralda, go home.

You can't go to the wedding.

No, no, Fiona.

Let her come.

I'm frightened, Fiona.

I need friendly faces by me.

With all them strange people in there, I may forget me words.

Without dear Esmeralda, I may forget me name.

It's only a wedding, Johnny.

I'll never forget when you married Mom to Dad.

It was heart-warming.

Loved it, we did.

Listen to me, Johnny.

I know what sort of a house we're going to.

And if somebody sees me in my proper setting for once,

that may be my big chance.

Girl?

Oh, I don't see any girl.

Martha, have you been--

I have not, Madam.

Sitting right there, she was, in that chair not two minutes ago.

Martha, once a person lets gin get hold of them,

it can ruin their entire life.

My ruin, Madam, happened when I was 16.

And it wasn't gin.

It was the candle-snuffer.

Oh, dear, Oh, dear.

I wonder who that can be.

Come back after 3:00.

We'll be open there till midnight.

We have a private party now.

But it's the parson.

Oh, the Reverend?

Madam, parson's here!

Oh, my dear Reverend, come in, come in.

Sorry, ma'am.

It's a long walk up the terrible hill that did him in.

Terrible hill?

It's not that steep.

No, ma'am, it's precious full of gin mills.

Go along up the hall.

The parlor's is on the right.

Martha, find Mr. Hemingway.

And where is our little bride?

Emily, dear, a little more gentility, if you please.

After all, you are flower girl.

I can't do it, Madam.

Please don't ask too much of me.

I may be a flower girl, but I'm no actress.

We're all very well aware of what you are, dear heart.

But there's no reason to get vulgar.

Now, quiet down, girls.

I'll see what's holding up the bride.

Now, don't dawdle, Phoebe.

Bring on the bride.

Good heavens, Phoebe.

This is a wedding, not a changing of the guard.

What are you supposed to be?

Best man.

Don't worry, love.

Marriage can be quite enjoyable, after you get used to it.

So they tell me.

Now, don't cry, love.

Why, there she is, madam, the girl from Mrs. Snow!

Dear me, they're growing them larger in the country

every year, like beetroot.

What's your name, child?

Char-- Charlotte.

Well, Charlotte, take off your bonnet

and shawl and join the party.

Don't cry.

Fanny.

Oh, Miss, how dare you!

Yes, how dare you!

Why, girls, at such a moment, too.

Oh!

Aren't you the passionate little plaything?

I'm sorry I'm getting married today,

but I can put you on my schedule for tomorrow.

No.

Fanny.

Agh!

Fanny!

Now, please, please don't drop the book.

They're just a few words.

You stand up straight.

It won't take--

My dear, walk.

An eagerness to get married is one thing,

but leaping to the altar is quite another.

Now, Charlotte, you stand right down here.

You'll be so tall and graceful.

Fenella, a little something on your harp/

Begin, Reverend, if you please.

Dearly beloved, uh, we are--

we are--

"Gathered here together."

What transpires here?

Charlotte, please.

"Gathered here together."

Hey, you can't come in now, sir.

I have strict orders not to let anyone in!

What in the name of ordinant,

Dear cousin, just some high spirited local children

at play.

Charlotte, now you get rid of them, Charlotte.

Tell them to come back later.

Tell them they got the wrong house.

Tell them anything, but just get rid of them!

Oh, pretty figure.

Here's a sailor looking for harbor.

Oh!

Ew, what a cold kiss.

But-- but-- but they're marrying off my Fanny.

Oh, peculiar habit, what?

Miss come from America?

Dear little tots.

Bless their tiny hearts.

We want our sweeties now.

Children, go away now, and I'll

send you out some sweets later!

Oh, children mature so early in the slums.

Sometimes, I think I really should move.

Reverend.

This is unsupportable.

You practically made an invalid of me,

my house burned down, and now at the very moment

of our marriage.

we are besieged by children.

Where are the girls?

Be calm, cousin.

Hurry, Reverend.

Just skip to the end.

Ooh, where's the pretty?

Oh, there she is!

You come here with me.

Come here.

Wilt thou take this woman?

I would.

Wilt thou take this man?

Go on, dear.

Heaven knows a girl requires the protection of a husband

in a world like this.

She will.

I now pronounce you man and wife.

It's all right.

Oh, isn't it touching?

Darling, may I be the first to congratulate you?

Oh!

Fanny.

Oh, no!

Oh, Fanny, my darling!

Oh, Charles, what are you doing here?

Thank heaven I found you in time time.

Time?

Time for me to retire!

What?

What?

What is it?

Ahoy, mate!

Target sighted.

Prepare the clapping irons.

Ahah!

Well, here's the pretty one I met last week.

Let go.

Help me, Charles!

Unhand that lady.

Unhand what?

Oh, an officer?

Since when is a skirt the uniform of a man?

Stand at attention.

Salute.

Address me as "sir."

Ensign, you're speaking to an admiral!

Admiral or not, how dare you treat my wife in this fashion!

Release her at once!

Your what?

This is my wife, you numbskull!

Ow!

Oh, Mr. Hemingway, you can't want me now

that my true beloved has returned to claim me.

One true love?

Just a minute, my little one.

To the best of my remembrance, we met only once before.

Oh, no, it's Charles, my one and only beloved

that's returned from the dead.

Not the dead, Fanny.

Twickenham.

That's where the ship sank.

Quiet in the ranks!

Stand at attention, Ensign, or I'll have keelhauled.

That's still my wife you are embracing.

Take your hands off Mrs. Hemingway at once!

Charles, you came too late.

I'm married to another man.

Cousin, cousin.

If you will wait but one moment.

Don't "cousin" me, you old fraud!

Come along, wench.

I am throwing you into the first empty bed we find.

Oh, please, Mr. Hemingway.

You may love your regiment, but you have married to me.

Come along.

My dear Mrs. Brown, I was always under the impression

that you run a straightforward cash and carrying on business.

But if this sort of thing is going on,

I'm afraid you're going to lose your license for license.

Lose my license, Excellency?

Oh, you can't mean that.

Why, I've had a license for 22 years,

come next Army and Navy Day.

Lose my license?

Oh, no!

Charles, Charles, save me!

Fraud.

Ow!

Sir.

Sir, I beg you.

All right, dismissed!

What are you doing?

I've had enough of nonsense.

Esmeralda!

Esmeralda!

Esmeralda!

Help Murder!

Where's the watch?

Sixpence, sixpence for a mess of fish.

Six fish and a mess of fish.

Sixpence.

Wait a minute.

Sixpence for fish.

Sixpence for a fish of mess.

You will only be enjoying a husk.

I like husks.

My nanny tucked me under them as a child.

Let go of me!

No, no, not that one!

It was made for Mrs. Brown personally.

It's an antique.

I will, I will.

Charles, Charles.

Oh, Fanny.

Help, you're ruining me!

Oh, my best curtains.

They cost a fortune.

That one took years to pay for.

Get me out of here, Madam.

I'll be showing you and the freak.

Shut up.

Who is that fellow?

You pipe down now!

I will strip you of every penny you earned.

After all I've done for you?

Done for me?

You've made a laughingstock and a mockery, you old bawd!

Bawd?

Bawd!

I rue the day I ever laid eyes on you, let alone

tried to lay hands on one of your doxies!

Doxy?

Take that statement back, sir.

Withdraw it!

Doxy, indeed.

That girl is as pure as the driven snow.

And you are an unfeeling brute!

Esmeralda, Esmeralda!

Am I?

Oh, no, Mrs. Brown.

This won't do.

Normal, ordinary jollifications one quite

understands and approves.

But this, Madam?

I fear a tiny error was made in this matter.

Percy, summon the watch.

Aye, aye, sir.

Oh, no.

No, sir.

It's all a mistake, a misunderstanding.

The-- the girl is not really married to Mr. Hemingway.

What?

It was only a masquerade, a game, Excellency.

I've been deceived, and by a girl.

Why, Mrs. Brown, I was married but 10 minutes ago by him.

No.

No, love.

Johnny is not an ordained minister,

only a retired choirboy who grew up to be a first class drunk.

The ceremony he performed is not valid.

I fear I deceived you.

Though naturally, I thought it was

for your own good at the time.

But I swear, if you can find it in your heart

to forgive a lady with dubious reputation

but recently acquired good intentions,

I personally will see you married to this lad of yours

in the very biggest ceremony of its kind ever held in our set.

And there have been some very good marriages, too.

Half the parish, I sometimes think.

Oh, Fanny, you're mine.

Oh, Charles, I was yours the moment we met.

Touching, isn't it, Excellency?

The first girl to come into my house

in 22 years of brisk trade and leave in her initial condition.

It gets you here, doesn't it?

Why, I really do think this experience has quite, well,

shall we say, reformed me.

Oh, no, no, no, never that!

No, no, never!

I didn't mean to suggest complete reform.

No, never that.

Not that.

No, Madam.

But what will become of me?

No, no you can't.

Never.

That could be inconvenient.

You mean, I'd be missed?

Is there any doubt in your mind?

Indubitably!

Positively!

How moving it was to see I

was not the only one to love and value my dear preceptress.

Maude Brown was beloved by all.

I never was one to disappoint my public.

Shall we merely say that for the time being,

I will contemplate reform?

But I must say, I do not understand

what the fiancé of my ward is doing in a house like this.

Tsk.