Original subtitles

SERLING: Starring tonight:

Bob Crane,

Jo Anne Worley,

Victor Buono,

Forrest Tucker,

and John Astin.

Good evening, art lovers.

For your enjoyment and edification,

three paintings are on display.

Part of a collection of kookery unique to this special exhibit.

Painting number one,

out of the real estate section of a ghost town weekly.

A ginger-bready item quite appropriately called House with Ghost.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is the Night Gallery.

This apartment is a dump, Iris. Let's face it.

It's a sweet little flat in the heart of London, and I like it, Ellis.

Come on, face it, love.

We got the bad end of a lousy swap.

"A", the Twitchells got our whole house in New Jersey,

while we got stuck with their tacky little three-room dump.

At no extra expense to us, Ellis. And in London, you know what I mean?

"B", the expense isn't really important to us. And "C",

for three months we haven't once been able to entertain properly.

Well, I think we've done quite nicely, Ellis.

Really?

A few of your afternoon séances, some buffet suppers

with a lot of plates being balanced on people's knees. Come on, love.

Let's really throw some parties. Meet the right people.

Here you go.

"Visiting England?

"Rent a house in the city or countryside by the month or season.

"Charming residences at reasonable rates,

"with or without ghosts."

Ghosts?

"Chichester's, Piccadilly."

What do you say I run down, see what we can rent on a short-term basis?

Not that we need a ghost, of course, but something with some grounds and elegance.

Why not with a ghost?

You really do just flip right past my interests, don't you?

I like that idea, a house with a ghost.

Then you don't know me at all, do you?

A house with spirits in it seeking to express themselves.

Well, there's a whole motif for entertaining

right there, Ellis, you know what I mean?

If it pleases you, my love.

You sure it won't overload your Ouija board?

Oh!

I might point out to you that it's not very in these days to be unspiritual, Ellis,

you know what I mean? Mmm-hmm.

Go ahead, see what they've got.

Something with a money-back guarantee.

Not too expensive. And not for more than a month.

Of course, my love.

That should be quite long enough.

Uh-uh, uh-uh.

You Americans rush past everything.

Now there's a perfectly splendid house.

Solid brick, Georgian, cool in summer and right on the edge of London.

Mr. Chichester, I'm looking for something outside the city. More space.

I'll know it when I see it.

With a ghost, you said.

Yes.

It's the main attraction for my wife.

Your first ghost, Mr. Travers?

Stay with a suburban spirit.

They wear so much better over the long haul.

There's no banging around until after sunset.

But your country ghosts, they're up at the crack of dawn.

"A", Mr. Chichester. This is not going to be for the long haul. And "B",

I think the country air would be better for my wife's health.

Oh...

Invalid starved for company. I get numbers of those.

Wrong. My wife has dizzy spells. Nothing serious, it's just inconvenient.

And "C", Mr. Travers?

Is there any special reason for a large country house?

It has to do with the feel of the place. I'll know it when I see it.

Uh-uh, uh-uh, uh-uh.

Here, now.

Oh. First time.

Canby Hall, in the Cotswolds.

Is that more what you had in mind, Mr. Travers?

Yes. Very dramatic.

The staircase. I like that.

It's good for special occasions, this house.

Yes, just what I was thinking. This is with ghost, isn't it?

Oh, yes, sir. You see the asterisk down here, that is "with ghost."

By the way, are you set on any particular placement?

Placement?

Well, there's your bedroom ghost, your hall ghost,

attic ghost... We've had quite a glut of attic ghosts.

That's not really important, Mr. Chichester.

As a matter of fact, I have a one-story

ranchito tract house just outside of Liverpool

with a rumpus room ghost.

But here, Canby Hall... Now, this is your stairwell ghost. Will that do?

A stairwell ghost? Yes, I like that.

That's perfect.

A perfect ghost!

That's the kind of thing that gives an agent a splendid sense of accomplishment.

Ah, just a moment.

I'll put Mrs. Canby's address on the top of the lease forms.

And then if you want to extend past a month,

you can write to her direct in Brighton.

Mr. Chichester. Why doesn't she live at Canby Hall?

Mrs. Canby?

Well, I suppose it's because of Mr. Canby's still being there, so to speak.

You won't mind, will you, Mr. Travers?

Mr. Canby being a ghost for such a relatively short time?

You see, I feel from my professional judgment,

that he's going to do an excellent job of spooking around.

He's got what it takes.

Hmm? What makes you say that?

He's a skinflint. Restless nature.

Brutal in his business deals. Tenacious.

There's no way his widow could take up residence there,

particularly after he groused at the way she broke his will.

She got every farthing, that woman.

There is nothing worse than a couple squabbling

after death has cheerfully pried them apart.

Yes. That would be awful.

Well, these gardens are an absolute mess.

Our ghost does not have a green thumb, you know what I mean?

Oh, I like that.

What a splendid entrance I can make.

I can really sweep down these stairs, you know what I mean, Ellis?

Yes, my dear, I visualized you at the very foot of it the moment I saw the photos.

Marble must be two inches thick.

That's quality construction.

Obviously, Canby can't take the credit for it, though.

This place has been in some earl's family for years.

Canby pinned him to the wall on some business deal.

Dragged him through the courts till he got everything, including this place.

And Canby, why is he a ghost?

The very day that Canby was dispossessing them, the earl's young wife,

pregnant at the time, either fell or hurled herself down these very steps.

He grieved for about a year, then the earl shot Canby dead.

Well, who says Canby's a ghost now?

Mrs. Canby. She tried staying here, lasted just a week. Apparently he...

Iris?

Come on, we'll go slowly.

The bedroom is at the top of the stairs.

I'll be all right. In a minute.

Look I'll give a local doc a call.

No. I've already seen a doctor, Ellis.

Look, it doesn't hurt to have somebody in the neighborhood know about these spells.

Better?

Get on.

You just pick it up and talk into it, love.

And that little wire coming out of it goes into a lot of other wires,

and pretty soon, one of them comes right into my apartment

and then I have you on the phone and I can hear your sweet voice.

And stop cursing your bloody guts for leaving me hanging for three whole days.

Sherry, darling. We've been moving and I couldn't get over.

I did call you, pigeon. But you were running around somewhere.

I was running around? Oh, I like that.

Sitting here and mooning for you and you think, 'cause I'm out to Lyons for a cake,

I'm running around! Oh, lovie.

Aren't we never gonna trip off to Cannes?

And stew in that super sun?

Just hang on a bit, can't you? We've almost got a settlement worked out.

You've been talking about that divorce for weeks, Ellis. Can't you speed it up?

No, I can't hurry it up. It's not... It's not an easy business for me.

It takes careful planning. It's not my money.

Sherry, 2,000 a month!

That's worth waiting for!

Yes. Yes. I'll try. Bye, lovely.

Ellis! Ellis!

Iris!

It dragged me. Something dragged me here.

Come here, sweetheart. Maybe you were just walking in your sleep.

No. There were hands. I'm almost sure I felt hands!

She seems to be perfectly all right, Mr. Travers.

Possibly it's just the excitement of moving into a new place.

What is it, Doctor?

I don't know who looked at your wife in the past, Mr. Travers,

but it's not just a simple case of vertigo.

Huh.

We were assured it wasn't anything serious.

By whom?

A specialist. The inner ear. It's called Meniere's syndrome.

It makes you dizzy sometimes, but certainly nothing dangerous.

That's true enough, Mr. Travers. But this is something else.

A larger deterioration, quite another problem.

It struck my sister in much the same way.

We'll do a biopsy, of course, and we won't say anything about it yet.

But, realistically, I'm afraid she hasn't long to live.

How long?

Well, Louisa, that's my sister, lasted eight months.

The pain wasn't too bad. And she spent the time well.

But it's hard on us, this kind of tragedy.

It changes one's plans so much.

Yes. Doesn't it.

Feeling better, love?

My back is killing me.

This mattress feels like it's stuffed with sand, you know what I mean?

Mmm-hmm.

Well, if you'll excuse me, love, I'm doing a steak for myself.

Sherry?

Oh, Ellis?

"A", I am keeping my promise. "B", it'll only be for a few more months.

No, ducky, not even a few more hours.

What do you mean?

"A", forget it, Ellis.

"B", don't worry your little head about a single thing,

because "C", it's all over, ducky!

Ellis?

Yes.

What's the matter?

Nothing. Nothing anymore.

Iris?

Mr. Travers?

It's just a bill. For services rendered. Slight push.

I don't need any services.

Mr. Canby?

But you asked for them. A steep staircase,

marble steps, dizzy spells on record with the good Dr. Crown.

It was obvious even to a ghost. It's nothing you can't afford.

Only 2,000 a month. For life.

No.

Come, come, come, come, come. But you set the figure yourself.

I wasn't gonna go through with it.

I was going to wait till she died. I swear it.

Well, I wasn't. I am an impatient man, Mr. Travers. Here!

I caution you.

I have quite a reputation of hounding my creditors to death.

No! This is mad.

What do you need money for?

"A", I am a man of my word. "B", I have responsibilities.

To whom, your widow? She's in great shape.

No sweat. She's living in Brighton.

She's having a ball. Just ask Mr. Chichester.

No, Mr. Travers.

You see, my wife upset the provisions of my will, she troubled my afterlife.

No, Mrs. Canby won't be getting another shilling from me or you.

The full address of the person you'll make

the payments to is on the top of this bill.

She's living in Manchester.

Ah! She's a wonderful woman.

I wouldn't go back on my promises to her for anything in the world.

Not for anything. You see, Mr. Travers,

I, too, had a bird on the side.

Like yourself, I'd do anything in the world for her. You know what I mean?

I gave at the office.

Oh.

Sorry.

As our third selection, an item from the past.

That uniquely American institution known as the pitchman.

The wheeler and dealer of magical nostrums

guaranteed to cure, to palliate,

to bring back the glow of health to everything but a cadaver.

Bottled dreams, if you will.

Our painting is called Dr. Stringfellow's Rejuvenator.

Drink hearty.

May I have your attention, ladies and gentlemen? Your attention, please?

Now I call your attention to Dr. Stringfellow's Rejuvenator.

A strengthening cordial that invigorates the stomach, stimulates the liver,

regulates the kidneys, and restores health and vitality of the blood.

Gives new life and vigor to all the tissues of the body.

It promptly stops the diseases to those organs peculiar to both male and female.

An absolute cure for eruptions of the skin.

An excellent remedy for chills and dizziness and fevers of all kinds.

Additionally, it stops cholera and all epidemic diseases.

Fevers of all kind, particularly that great scourge, yellow fever.

It is the consumptive's great rejuvenator, the purifier of all the world.

It strengthens and supports the system like bands of iron.

Now, ladies and gentlemen,

in any sizeable city, this remarkable rejuvenator could easily cost

$10 a bottle, if it was available.

The fact is, it is not available. I am its creator and sole proprietor.

And since I'm a man who seeks not to profit

from the pain, the misery and the anguish of my fellow men,

I offer this to you at pennies more than its production cost.

One dollar a bottle. Six bottles for $5.

But the supply is limited. I urge you to make haste in making your purchases.

Now, my assistant will pass among you,

and remember, no jostling please.

And only six bottles to one customer.

Better make the right change, dummy.

Mmm.

Now, before I find out how much money we've lost

because you don't know how to add and subtract,

who was that you were talking to out there?

I don't know who he was.

You don't know?

He was asking questions and you were answering them.

Well, he just...

He just asked who I was,

and where I'm from, and what's in the medicine that we've been selling.

And you don't know who he was!

No, sir. I don't.

Besides, all he wanted to know was how long we was gonna be here.

And you told him what?

I told him...

I told him I didn't know.

Well...

A revelation! At last.

The big, hairless gawk finally came up with the right response.

I'll tell you something about those desert dwellers out there,

and for that matter, all the citizenry of the soil in every burg on this earth.

They got very short tempers and long memories.

And that combination can send a man out into the night on a greasy pole,

with equal amounts of tar and feathers.

Gently, Goliath, gently.

Wipe that guilty look off your face and see who's at the door.

Can I see Dr. Stringfellow?

That would be me, sir.

I was wondering if maybe...

Come in, come in.

No need to stand out in the desert sun and addle your brains.

Here, sit down.

Now, how can I be of service to you?

I got a sick kid. Real sick.

There are no doctors around here,

and then I saw your wagon, and you call yourself...

A doctor, yes. I have a medical degree from the Vienna Academy

and several other equally prestigious universities.

Could... Could you look at her?

She's in terrible pain. And I ain't got no medicine or anything.

Well, unfortunately, I've retired from private practice.

I got money, Doc.

I was saving it up for a new plow or some fixing on the barn.

Yeah, well, it's not a question of money. I never heal for profit.

Oh, perhaps if I just took a look at her, maybe I could prescribe something.

I'd be obliged to you, Doc. I really would.

Her ma died a little over a year ago, and her sister the year before that.

So she's all I got.

Yes, yes. Indeed, indeed.

Well, Rolpho, be a good lad and hand me a bottle of that rejuvenator, would you?

This won't take long.

Pa? Pa, is that you?

It's me, honey.

I brung this good doctor here. And he's gonna make you well.

It hurts so terrible, Pa.

It hurts so terrible bad.

Where is the pain, child?

Right here.

But growin'.

Growin' all over.

It's an abdominal disorder.

What can you do, Doc? Is there any way you can stop that pain?

Well you just give her a tablespoon of this rejuvenator every two hours,

and, well, it'll start to take effect by morning.

And it'll cure her?

Oh, without a doubt, sir. Yes, without a doubt.

You just give her the dosage I've prescribed

and, well, she ought to be all right early next week.

God bless you, Doc.

Just a dollar for the rejuvenator,

and a small honorarium for my time.

It's Dr. Stringfellow?

I'm afraid that you have the advantage, sir.

Doubtful. I ran out of advantages a long time ago.

But the name is Snyder. It used to be Dr. Snyder.

Snyder. Snyder. Oh, yes.

I knew a Dr. Snyder at the Paris Institute when I was studying there.

Oh, and another Snyder, a colleague of mine when I was called to Bulgaria

to perform surgery on the then king...

I'm afraid that your humor eludes me, sir.

Oh, does it?

Now let me tell you something, Dr. Stringfellow.

That little girl there in the wagon, bathed in sweat.

If the pain's on the right side, it's appendix.

And if the face is gray and the pain is

insufferable, then it's probably peritonitis.

And if it is the appendix, and it's been going on for a week,

all that's needed now is a shovel and a small plot of earth.

A diagnosis by a drunk.

Doubtless.

But with a far sight more truth than the labels on those bottles of yours.

Nine dollars!

Traveled 300 miles for nine dollars!

What about that little girl?

What little girl? Oh, that little girl.

That little girl will be dead within 48 hours.

Said demise can hardly be considered a

testimonial for Dr. Stringfellow's Rejuvenator.

So right after supper we'll be on our way,

hopefully be 50 miles from here before the sad event takes place.

Couldn't you do nothing for her?

Nothing short of a resurrection.

What's a resurrection?

The bringing back of the dead.

Could you do that?

Could you bring her back from the dead?

My dear moonstruck boy,

if there was enough money in it, I would give it one powerful try.

And this would be a night for it.

Bartender, another bottle of this.

Two dollars.

Swill that passes itself off as whiskey!

Two dollars to curdle your insides.

It's a lot better than the stuff we sell.

I'm sorry?

Nothing.

No, go on, Rolpho. A passing judgment perhaps?

Some critical comment on something or other

that you dredged up out of that thin ditch you call a brain?

Well...

It's just that you keep on telling them people it cures all them things.

All them sicknesses and diseases.

Even that sick little girl.

And all it is is just a little caramel color, a little wood alcohol

and a little burnt cork. It don't seem fair.

You just don't understand, do you, Rolpho?

All right, so it doesn't cure dyspepsia.

So it has no effect on boils or yellow fever or the dropsy.

So what?

Do you know what's in Dr. String's Rejuvenator?

Uh-uh.

Dreams. It should be on the label.

One part wishful thinking, one part ignorance,

and one part the sweat of little men who seek immortality

and are dumb enough to think it can be bottled.

I should be getting $100 a swallow for that stuff.

And a medal at the same time.

Because I give hope to the hopeless, dreams to the dreamless.

An illusion of health to all the poor,

doomed yokels who'd have a dollar in their jeans.

You see, I let them get a little peek over the pigsty

and get a view of heaven.

Hmm?

Doc, she's so weak.

She can't hardly say anything now.

She just lies there whimpering with the pain.

And she's hardly breathin'.

Take some advice, my friend. Keep her covered and warm.

Give her enough whiskey to make her numb. And find a reverend.

You told me she'd be well again.

Who the hell do you think he is, Saint Francis?

This is a medicine man, mister! He'll break your heart for a 50-cent piece!

What am I gonna do? What about my kid?

What am I gonna do? She's lying out there on that buckboard, dyin' an inch at a time.

Rolpho, go get me another bottle of the rejuvenator.

My dear God, haven't you...

Rolpho, go do what I told you.

If you think for one...

Be quiet, Dr. Snyder.

Dr. Snyder here is the protector of the common good.

A drunk and a sot and an unhealed healer, but he...

He claims to speak for the speechless.

You know what I do, brother? I sell faith.

I'm going to give that child of yours enough belief

so that she can kick her way out of a pine coffin,

if she needs to be. Do you understand me?

If that child crosses over into the shadows,

I am gonna bring her back to life!

Now, you go get her.

Why don't you just bushwhack him out there in the storm and knife him for his wallet?

Compared to what you're doing, that would be an act of Christian charity.

For a soused-up wreck, you've got a lot of judgments in you, haven't you?

Well, for the moment, why don't you just go back to your bottle and shut up.

Or better,

you go out to that mournful man and read him some Latin out of the medical books.

Or you tell him with the charts how irrevocable death is.

And then see who he believes, hmm?

You or me.

She's dead.

Another of your razor-sharp perceptions, huh?

But not an unworthy effort on my part.

I just took the long shot.

If she'd lived, they'd be speaking my name down at the Texas border.

Let's go, Rolpho. There are other towns, and other sheep.

You're leaving us, Doctor?

Well, I'm a traveling man.

And you'll never run out of places to travel to, will you?

Or poor, ignorant people to rob.

Or deep pools of misery to go wading into with your dirty feet.

What a prince of a fellow you are, Medicine Man.

But there's a service you perform.

Whoever stands next to you,

that could be the devil himself,

you make him look like God.

Is this a haunt or a resurrection?

Did you kick yourself out of that pine box,

or are you some floating spirit come to point a finger at me?

You stay.

Stay right where you are, child.

Stay where you are!

I just don't understand it. That sign missed him by a good foot.

His heart just quit on him, I reckon.

Well, I'll just leave you in here to pay your respects.

Bring the lantern when you come out.

Fool old man. Thought you was smart.

Turns out, you be the dumbest of them all.

What'd you do that for?

Why not? Nothin' in there worth anything.

Nothin' in there worth anything either.

Our final selection this evening,

an import from that other region,

that infernal inferno down below.

Offered to you now in living color and with a small scent of sulphur.

Our painting is called Hell's Bells.

Blasphemer!

Liar!

Parasite.

Cynic!

Cheat!

Hypocrite!

Thief!

Idolator!

Slob! You are a slob!

Hey, lady, is this it?

Is this what?

You know. Hell?

No, this is the waiting room!

We're very rushed.

They're sending too many people down here lately.

I don't know what they expect us to do!

You'll just have to take your turn, just like every...

I don't know what you think this is all about, young man,

but this is no pigpen.

Neat. You've got to be neat!

Don't get uptight with me, lady.

Fat Lady!

I'm hip.

Fat Lady, all I was doing was driving my car...

I don't have any time for discussions!

Well, that's pretty far out.

So this is it, huh? Hell.

But, man, how bad can it be?

That's a trip.

Unbelievable.

Hey, records, man.

Maybe I can hear some music.

Wow, that's the most fantastic stack of records I've ever seen.

Hey, they got one of my groups here.

Hey, can you do something about that music?

Slob.

Nice weather for this time of year.

Hey, man, am I glad to see you!

I thought I was going to have to wait alone in this room.

Hey, can you tell me, what time does the next group leave for hell?

Of course, it's colder than last Tuesday. But no point in worrying about that.

It's warmer than it was two weeks ago come Thursday.

Hey, you're right, man. That's beautiful! We got to talk about other things,

get our minds off this place and that music.

Yeah. Hey, isn't that something about the Beatles splitting up?

Best thing for beetles is tincture of arsenic.

'Course, down on the farm, we used to use old-fashioned zinc powder.

Rain'd wash it off, till granddaddy mixed it with glue.

No, man, I'm talking about the group.

Baby had the croup once. Grandma mixed up some camphor and boiled it in sulphur.

Hey, you know something, man? You are boring. Yeah, you are a bore.

This whole place is boring! Bummer!

You're in luck. Yes, siree. Luck!

The little woman here is gonna show you the 8,500 slides

she took of our trip down to Tijuana, Mexico.

How many slides?

Eight thousand, five hundred. Oh, no, man. No!

Come on. I want to see the Devil!

Where are you, man? Show your ugly face!

Having a good time?

Are you the Devil?

I am.

Hey, man. That's far out.

I'll get the lights, dear.

Hey, tell me. What is this put-on?

I beg your pardon?

I mean, how long are you gonna keep me in this dumb room?

I mean, when do we go to hell? The whips and the

chains, the boiling oil, snakes, all that stuff?

This is it.

What do you mean, this is it? This is hell?

Yes.

This first one I took from the freeway in San Diego.

My dear boy, hell is never what you expect it to be. But for you, this is it.

Don't you like it?

No, man. It's a downer.

Yes, it is, isn't it?

Of course, you can't see it too clearly because Fred was driving so fast.

You know, it's a curious thing, but they have exactly the same room up there.

What do you mean? That guy, those slide people,

this wallpaper, they got that in heaven?

Yes. You see, while this room is hell for you, an absolute beastly hell,

up there, the identical room is someone else's idea of heaven.

Think about that. Bye.

No.

Bummer. Bummer. Bummer. Bummer. Bummer.

Now, this one shows the new 747 on its way to Hawaii.

No, dear, that's a seagull.

Oh, I thought it was one of those new 747s.

Anyhow, that blur in the corner is part of the Navy shipyard.

It was supposed to be an aircraft carrier but I missed it.

You can still see part of the anchor, that line in the corner,

right down there to the right.