Original subtitles

My lords, gentleman, pray silence

for Ralph Douglas Christopher Alexander Gurney, the 13th Earl

of Gurney.

The aim of the Society of St. George

is to keep green a memory of England.

Beware, once the rulers of the greatest empire the world

has ever known rule not by superior force or skill,

but by sheer presence.

So I give you England, this teeming womb of privilege,

this feudal state, whose shores beat back the turbulent sea

of foreign anarchy, this ancient fortress,

still commanded by the noblest of our royal blood,

this ancient land of ritual, this precious stone

set in the Silver Sea.

But here's to His England, this precious stone

set in the Silver Sea.

ALL: England, set in the Silver Sea.

God save the gracious Queen, scatter her enemies,

and make them fall.

Confound their politics, frustrate their knavish tricks.

On Thee our hopes we fix, God save the Quee.

Oh, thank you.

How was your speech, my Lord?

Oh, went well, Tuck.

English would like to hear the truth about themselves.

He's back now.

Claire, I said, Ralph is back.

Thank you, Charles.

I'll have a vodka and tonic.

I say, governor, the governor is back.

Mummy, I was just telling the governor

that the governor is back.

Charles, with ice.

I'm repeating myself, calling the governor the governor,

and daddy the governor as well.

Tuck, I'm getting married again.

Very good, my Lord.

It's Grace Shelley, Charles's right.

Been putting it off sake of the family.

Only Jack knows.

This house used to be full of mischief.

Ha!

Four young devils.

Thought I was safe enough.

Master Paul would have been the 14th Earl.

District Officer, 21, dead at 23.

Beriberi-- picked it up of some scruffy

fuzzy wuzzy in a dressing gown.

No wonder, eh?

Master Richard used to play the xylophone.

And young Raymond, killed in Malaya, not one of them

buried in England, never seen their graves.

You can do that on your honeymoon, my Lord.

Hm, there's still Jack.

All based on land, Tuck.

I"ll have those naves and white hall moving

in, so it's Miss Grace Shelley.

Is she anyone, my Lord?

No one.

But Charles recommends her.

It's good breeding stock.

Family foals well-- sires mostly.

There's always room at the top for brains, money

or a good pair of titties.

Miss Shelley seems well endowed, my Lord.

Huh?

The governor loved this bed, took it

all over the world with him.

Devilish great man, the governor.

Superb shot.

Did wonderful needle work, too.

What have you got there?

Ah, yes.

Why not?

Odd day, need to relax.

Might I suggest the silk tonight, sir?

Good idea, Tuck.

For Sir George, he-- ah, Tuck, there's no end to duty.

And law has been my life, Tuck.

A judge can't be unreasonable, so how can he be a lover, eh?

This is a damn dry world, Tuck.

A long life and a gray one, my Lord.

Power of life and death.

A judge has no need for other vices.

Once you put on the black cap, everything else

tastes like wax fruit.

Noose a bit high, Tuck.

Bring it down half an inch.

That's it.

Will that be all, my Lord?

A whisky and soda in about five minutes, as usual.

Oh, Tuck, I shan't be dining tonight.

Tell Cook the trial ends tomorrow,

so I should be wanting one of her extra large breakfasts

in the morning, she knows I don't like passing

sentence on an empty stomach.

Very good, my Lord.

Nothing like a good English breakfast.

Big meal of the day for the governor.

Always read "The Times" through first,

case there was anything too disturbing in it.

Mother never knew what the word "socialist"

meant till she was past 50.

I remember standing at the foot of the bed there, telling them

I wanted to be a painter.

The Gurneys have never been slackers, he said.

And they have privileges.

Great confession that in me study law,

not the Gurney tradition, no.

Always the army.

Feet, feet, the boys are marching.

A little more grapeshot, Captain Bragg.

Give him a touch of that cold steel, boys.

Close, it's getting close.

I can feel the hot breath, wonderful, wonderful, one slip,

wonderful.

Worms have the best of it.

They dine off the tenderest joints,

juicy breasts, white thighs.

It is a far, far better thing I do know than I've ever done.

No sir, no bandage.

Die, my dear doctor.

That is that last thing I shall do.

Is that you, my love?

Come to me!

Come!

Touched her, saw her, towers of death and silence

in route of fire and ice.

Saw Alexander covered with honey and beeswax in his tomb.

Felt the flowers growing over me.

Oh, a man must have vision.

How else could an English judge the realm

take moonlit trips to Marrakech and Ponders End?

See six vestal virgins smoking cigars,

slippers, naked bosoms floating past Formosa.

Just time for a quick one.

Be of good cheer, Master Ridley, and pray the man

has plenty of time to win this game

and beat the Spaniards, too.

Form squares, men!

Smash the and .

Are you ready, your Lordship?

Bleed in bloody hell.

I am the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord.

He that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall

he live.

And whosoever liveth and believeth in me

shall never die.

Gilead is mine and Manasseh is mine.

Ephraim also is the strength of my head.

Judah is my law giver and Moab is my wash pot.

Over Edom my will cast out my shoe, and upon Philistia will

I triumph.

Who will lead me into the strong city,

and who will bring me into Edom?

[MUSIC - CECIL FRANCES ALEXANDER, "ALL

THINGS BRIGHT AND BEAUTIFUL"]

All things bright and beautiful,

all creatures great and small.

All things wise and wonderful, the Lord God made them all.

Excellent service, Matthew.

Created exactly the right impression.

Damned if I could understand a word of it.

Yeah, I hardly expected you to, my boy.

Charles, I must have a word with you.

Charles, you see, this was a service which I could not

have conducted for someone who may have laid

thy violent hands upon himself.

Now, now, Charles.

a disturbing rumor has reached me.

Now tell me, did Ralph commit suicide?

Suicide?

Tucker found Ralph hanging in his bedroom

wearing a cocked hat, underpants, and a ballet skirt.

Does that sound like suicide?

No.

No, it does not.

No, but I had to be sure, Charles.

After all, he is buried in consecrated ground.

I must say, you know, it's damned odd

to find Uncle Ralph hanging around

like that in a ballet skirt.

Charles, didn't you say Ralph was always rather artistic?

He was willful, stubborn, and this time he went too far.

But he was my brother-- well, half brother.

I will not have you calling him artistic.

Cocked hat?

A cocked hat?

You said cocked hat, Charles.

Why was Ralph wearing a cocked hat?

Trying it on for size, obviously.

I told him not to remain a widower.

The governor didn't have to start breeding again

because it's not pleasant for a man Ralph's age,

but that was something he had to get on top of.

Underpants?

Why would-- why was he in his underpants, Charles?

Well, it was in his bedroom, wasn't it?

I thought all our troubles would be over when he took offense

at a young Grace Shelley?

That would have solved everything.

Yes, wouldn't it just.

I do not know what all the bother is about.

Uncle Ralph has got an heir-- Jack, the 14th Earl.

Yes, there's always Jack.

Yes, it's going to be awkward, damned awkward.

Well, Ralph knew the situation.

I'm sure he's made proper arrangements.

It's simply a matter of finding out who is made

legal guardian of the estate.

Ballet skirt?

What on Earth was he doing in a ballet skirt, Charles?

Answer me that.

Mr. Matthew Pink to see Mr. Charles.

Thank you, Tucker.

Come on in, Pete.

I think you know everyone here.

I have that honor, Sir Charles.

All right, that's all, Tucker.

We're not to be disturbed.

Might I suggest, Sir Charles, that Tucker stays?

What?

Mm, quite.

Well, Tucker, it seems you're going to hear something

to your own advantage.

Yes.

You sit down, Tucker.

Thank you, Madame.

May I take this opportunity to express my condolences?

Yes, yes, but do get on with it.

But Sir Charles, shouldn't we wait?

I mean, his Lordship's heir.

He's been notified.

Wasn't able to get away for the funeral,

so he's not likely to come now.

Very well.

I will inform him later.

"I, Ralph Douglas Christopher Alexander,

Gurney of Gurney House and the country of Bedfordshire,

hereby revoke all former wills and codicils

and declare this to be my last will.

I appoint Mr. Matthew Peak of 17 Brownrow Gardens, Bedfordshire,

to be the sole executor of my will.

I give them bequeath unto my manservant Daniel

Tucker the sum of 30 thousand pounds, free of duty.

What the--

30 thousand?

What?

That there follow another request to various charity now.

I'll run through them briefly.

I bequeath the sum of 5 thousand pounds

to the Tail Wavers Registered National

Charity, 3 thousand pounds to the Banker's

Beneficence Society Limited--

30 thousand smackers!

Yipee!

Hey, Gilbert the Filbert, the Knut the K!

The pride of Piccadilly, the blase roue.

Oh, Hades, the ladies, would leave

their wooden huts for Gilbert the Filbert

the Colonel of the Knuts.

Woohoo!

I say, Tucker seems a bit het up.

So are the ways.

If ever do one, my boy who is greedy of gain.

Now then, Peak, what about the Zambezi mission,

and what about the Overseas Bishopric Fund?

Oh, never mind about them, Bertie.

What about the estate?

I devise and bequeath the remainder of my estate,

both real and personal, whatsoever and wheresoever,

to which I might be entitled or over which I have any disposing

at the time of my death to my beloved son,

Jack Arnold Alexander Tancred Gurney,

the 14th Earl of Gurney, for his own use, absolutely.

For his own use, absolutely?

Well, who's been appointed legal guardian?

No one.

By the rivers of Babylon, there

we sat down, Yea, we wept--

You mean Jack's free to run the estate and everything?

Jack will cheer up the House of Lords.

Oh, Ralph obviously let his personal feelings come

before his duty to his family.

Oh well, we'll just have to fight.

Awkward, there's bound to be a scandal, but there's no choice.

If this will be contested in any way,

the whole of my estate, both real and personal,

is bequeathed to the charities herewith-- The Earl Haig Fund--

It's disgraceful!

May God forgive him!

But father, I don't understand.

You ask him to explain before he explodes.

Blast to this land at stake here, Gurney land.

I'm completely in the fog, .

Ladies and gentlemen, the queen's right trustee

and well-beloved cousin, Jack Arnold Alexander Tancred

Gurney, 14th Earl of Gurney.

Hello.

I'm sorry I wasn't here before.

I see the new only yesterday.

I'm afraid our little community is somewhat cut off.

I hope you'll forgive me.

I know he will.

I've just been to his grave.

Thank you, Uncle Charles, for making all the arrangements.

Aunt Claire, you haven't changed.

Nor you.

You must be Dinsdale.

Yes, I suppose I must be.

How do you do?

Are you still angry with me, Bishop?

Let me put your minds at rest.

I'm coming back to take my place in the world.

The monastic ideal isn't easy.

I've had many broken nights, but I'm

coming back refreshed, though hardly equipped for society.

I shall need your help, Charles.

Come, we're all one family.

Let's wash away with the old saws.

If the bishop doesn't mind, I think we should pray, pray

for love and understanding.

Surely you pray for love and understanding.

Every night, without success.

You too, my son.

I'm a Methodist.

I'm sure are still a Christian.

Come, for me.

Yes, my Lord.

Prayer should rise up like incense.

A prayer is an act of faith and union.

A prayer, it means to ask, to beg, to plead.

The prayer is a message to heaven.

You're talking directly to God.

Express your desires freely.

Don't be afraid.

I know them already.

For I am the creator and ruler of the universe, Coda, the one

supreme being and infinite personal being, ,

the first immovable mover.

Yea, I am the absolute, unknowable, righteous, eternal,

the lord of hosts, king of kings,

lord of lords, the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,

the one true god, the god of love, the Christ.

His lordship is a paranoid schizophrenic.

Paranoid schizophrenic?

But he's a Gurney.

Then he's a paranoid, schizophrenic Gurney

who believes he's God.

But we've always been Church of England.

His idea of the world we live in

is determined solely by his feelings.

What he feels is, is.

If my nephew is bonkers, why the blazes did you let him out?

He's a voluntary patient in a private clinic,

free to go whenever he chooses.

His father insisted on no official certification.

If you want him detained here permanently,

you must bring him before the board of control,

or get a master in lunacy to sign an order.

Later, after we've got a few things settled.

From a medical point of view, plunging into the working world

won't do the Earl any harm.

Won't do him any harm?

What about the rest of us?

He's not dangerous.

Besides, I shall be on hand.

It will be an interesting experiment.

A harsh dose of reality can help towards a cure.

Cure?

You've had him here for seven years.

Look at him.

What have you been doing?

Exercising patience and understanding, something

he'll need all his family.

Yes, but why haven't you used the knife?

Because lobotomy is irrelevant and dangerous in this case.

He can't forget being rejected by his mother and father

at the age of 11.

They sent him away, alone, into a primitive community

of licensed bullies and terrorists.

You mean he went to public school?

Exactly.

I'm aware of psychotherapy's messy inadequacies,

but I hope that my current research will put it

all on a more scientific basis.

But it depends on my getting a golden .

Well, never mind about that.

What about Jack?

Remember, he's suffering from delusions of grandeur.

In reality, he's an earl, an English aristocrat,

a member of the ruling class.

Naturally, he's come to believe there's

only one person grander than that, the Lord God Almighty

himself.

Are you English?

No.

Ah.

What's all this then?

It's his lordship's effects.

Sign here, please.

Christ.

If I saw a man eating grass, I'd say he was hungry.

They'd have him certified.

They claim that snow is only precipitation and not candid

dew.

Hroom!

I'm always thinking so fast, hroom!

Space and time exist only within the walls of my brain.

Hroom!

What I'm trying to say is, if the words sound queer or funny

to your ear, a little bit jumbled up

and jivey, singing mares eat oats and does eat oats

and little lambs eat ivy. Ivy?

Ivy?

Who's Ivy?

But I am the Lord Jesus come again in my own body

to heal the sick, betoppled, and the ignorant.

I'm he that liveth and behold, I am alive for everyone.

Is everybody happy?

Now hear this.

I come to proclaim the new dispensation.

The gospel dispensation promised only salvation to the soul.

The new dispensation gives it to the body as well.

Jesus Christ, Mark 1, "suffer to redeem the spirit to let

the body separate it from God."

So Satan found a place in man and formed in him

a false love, a love of self.

Explode!

Only feel love and sin no more.

Must everything you touch, see and feel, glorifies my love.

The top hat is my mitre, and the walking stick, my rod.

Oh, dear.

Once I get started, it's terribly difficult to stop.

I'm so sorry.

No, no, no, it's fascinating.

How do you know your god?

It's simple.

When I pray to him, I find I'm talking to myself.

I see.

Well, how did it happen How did you come

to be in this state of grace?

Like every prophet, I saw visions, heard voices, I ran.

The voices of St. Francis, Socrates,

General Gordon, and Timothy O'Leary all told me I was God.

It was Sunday, August 25th at 3:32.

I heard a terrible thunderclap and saw a body of light

like the light from the sun and red as fire.

I cried, hallelujah, Lord, what will you do?

The light vanished, and blackness of darkness,

until a great brush, dipped in light, swept across the sky.

And I saw the diversity, distinction,

variety, all clearly rolled up into the unity

of universal love.

Where did all this happen?

East Acton, outside the public urinal.

What does it feel like to be God?

Like a river flowing everywhere.

I pick up a newspaper and I'm everywhere, conducting a summit

conference, dying of hunger in a Peruvian gutter,

accepting the Nobel Prize for literature,

raping a nun in Somata, under this protective outer shell.

I'm god filled.

Your Lordship, Sir Ch--

Just a moment.

What the?

I haven't finished yet.

Sir Charles Gurney, my Lord.

Insolent clown.

I heard that, Sir Charles.

The world's gone mad.

You'll have to go.

Hadn't we better wait?

Somebody new mightn't understand the situation.

Why is he hanging on with 30 thousand in the bank?

Out of love.

Love?

Tucker, rot.

Now, my boy, there are certain matters to do with the estate

that need clearing up.

Nothing important, just need your signature.

Gives me power to handle odd things.

Of course, Uncle.

Well, there's no need to read it.

Just take my word.

I take your word.

I put on my glasses because I feel cold.

Where do I sign?

Just there.

Excellent, excellent, easily done here.

I, the undersigned, Mycroft Holmes.

Who's Mycroft Holmes?

Brother of Sherlock Holmes, you illiterate oaf.

But your name's Jack.

Never call me that!

Jack's a word I reject absolutely.

It's a word I put it to my galvanized pressure cooker.

Hooray!

Jack's dead.

All right, all right.

What should we call you then?

Any of the 9 billion names of God.

Your lordship will do, or JC, Eric, Bert, Barney, Entwhistle.

I know exactly who I am.

You asked for these, my lord.

Them Burn them, Mr. Tucker.

Burn them.

Great Scott, man, these are your coronation robes.

Lot of tradition here, my lord.

The axe must be laid to the root, Uncle Charles.

Pride and riches, pomp and property,

all must be locked off.

Love makes all men equal.

I love you dearly, Uncle Charles.

Keep them if you feel so lost.

Join me in a constitutional before lunch, Mr. Tucker.

Enjoy yourselves while I'm gone.

Relax.

Have sex.

My god.

Yes?

No, no, no, nothing.

Well?

You hear what he said, Charles.

I did.

Destroying property, all men are equal.

You know what this means, Claire.

He's not any mad.

He's bolshie.

Smell the soul dust from the lawns and hedgerows.

Oh, what a beautiful day I've made.

Look, soft thistle and nigella.

What?

No water in days?

Sorry.

Can't think of everything.

I'll see to it.

Remember the Sunday picnics, Mr. Tucker?

The world was all top hats and white lace.

And the best heavy silverware.

Snort, Your Lordship?

Thank you.

If only I knew then who I was now.

Mr. Grasshopper, of course I bless you,

you chirrup, along with J. Edgar Hoover.

This is the first chance I've had of speaking to you alone.

Be on your guard, sir.

You puzzle me, Mr. Tucker.

The family-- I've seen them at work before.

They got the power, they make the rules.

Back there they're plotting against you like mad.

Love cannot doubt, no faith the mustard seed.

Plotting's a word I put it to my galvanized pressure cooker.

Hroom, it's gone.

Feeling persecuted is one of the signs

of paranoid schizophrenia.

Many poor wretches in Dr. Herder's dancing academy

suffered from .

But I am being watched, they said.

Everybody is against me, they cried.

You've set up profound, negative reactions

with our Kremlin plots.

I'm leaving you.

Resist it, Mr. Tucker.

That way madness lies.

That's the thanks you get.

He's the same as all the rest.

What and what to be so just isn't so.

No skin off my nose.

My 30 thousand's safe, and I deserve every last penny of it,

and more and more and more!

What's keeping you then, Dan?

Be honest now, Daniel.

Fear.

Fear and habit.

You get into the habit of serving, born a servant,

see, son of a servant, family of servants,

from a nation of servants.

Very first thing an Englishman does straight from his mother's

womb is touch his forelock.

That's how they can tell the wrinkled little bastard's

English.

They don't know about me.

They don't know about Daniel Tucker.

Just Old Faithful Tucker, give doggie boney!

You know what I really am?

, anarchist, Trotskyist, Communist,

revolutionary!

I must sell!

Years I've been working for the revolution,

spitting in the , peeing

on the plate.

So raise the scarlet banner high, beneath its shade

we'll live and die.

JC, Bert!

My Lord.

Barney Entwhistle.

.

Oh, yes.

Tucker?

What was that song you were singing last night?

And old German hymn, madame.

Milk or lemon?

Lemon?

I say, where's the governor?

Oh, is that tea, Tucker?

Just the job.

He's in town, trying to find a way around this mess.

When's he back?

Any time now, if he doesn't drop in on his mistress first.

We need to get things sorted out soon.

It's getting damned awkward in the village.

Awkward?

Well, they expect us Gurneys to be in everything.

Mrs. Bigger-Jones and Mrs. Treadwell

all the other old girls, they thought

it would be a splendid idea if the new earl was to open

the on Sunday week?

I hardly dare ask, but naturally, you told

them it would be impossible.

- We'll call Lemon. - Lemon.

Please, Tucker, yes.

But you see, I am the prospective parliamentary

candidate for the division.

And I have to watch my step with them.

I mean, I couldn't very well say that he was ,

could I?

Well, where is he now?

Up there.

Oh.

Ah!

Look what you've done.

Never get tea stains out.

Show some consideration.

He-- it's yoking, isn't it?

Tea, my lord?

Well, there's no use, Tucker.

I've tried.

He's asleep, dead to the world.

His body sleeps, but his divinity is always watching.

Milk, please.

Any toasted muffins?

Yes, sir.

Shall I bring them up?

No.

I'll be right down.

It is yoking, isn't it?

Or a form of yoking?

Don't give me another headache, Dinsdale.

You look ill, Mr. Tucker.

Bed, Mr. Tucker, right now.

Thank you, my lord.

Welcome, Dinsdale.

Yes.

I mean, how are you?

Sometimes my spirits sink below the high water mark

in Palestine, but I'm adjusting gradually.

For what I'm about to receive let

me make myself truly thankful.

Soon I must be moving on, sail away, Lalaha,

New Jersey, portside and crew.

First I shall command a pope to consecrate

a plane load of contraceptives for the priest ridden Irish.

.

Arise!

Shine, for my light is come, and the glory of the Lord

is risen upon me.

Here is the rag, see how it goes, down

on your heels, up on your toes.

That's the way to do the varsity drag.

Mrs. Bigger-Jones and Mrs. Treadwell.

You can pass many a class whether you're

dumb or wise if you all answer the call

when your professor cries.

Everybody!

Down on the heels, up on the toes,

stay after school, learn how it goes.

Everybody do the varsity, everybody do the varsity,

everybody do the varsity drag.

Welcome, ladies.

I'm the new lord.

Oh, bother.

You know Lady Claire, my cousin Dinsdale?

Oh, old ladies, this is a surprise.

But delightful, really delightful.

Dear, Sir Dinsdale, do forgive us for dropping in.

We thought we'd just take a stroll out to the manor.

It's only six miles.

We've come to try and persuade his lordship to open

our little church .

Do say yes, my lord.

I always say yes, whatever question.

How splendid.

Now, if you'll excuse us, we've a lot to do.

Stay to tea.

You be mother.

Go and see if your father's back.

Tell me, ladies, what do I do at this gala opening of yours?

Do I charm bracelets?

Swing lead?

Break wind?

Pass water?

Yes-- no!

It-- you make a speech.

On what text, Mother Superior?

Oh, we leave that to the speaker.

It can be any topic of interest--

hanging, immigration, or the standard hold of the unions.

But I felt the speeches should be about Britain

and our way of life.

Britain?

Mhm.

A flyblown speck in the North Sea.

You can't kick the natives in the backstreets of Calcutta.

He's joking again.

Aren't you, my lord?

I'm not laughing, Pamela.

And we can't stay here, Lady .

Then for Christ's sake, go.

Oh, don't go for my sake.

Oh, delicious.

Home grown.

No, I bought them.

I mean, they go where--

Ladies!

I've decided to begin my second ministry at your gathering.

Last time I pitched the word in holy Galilee,

I spoke in parables.

Mistake Now I must speak plain.

God is love.

Love?

Love, as water is wet, as jade is hard, as bread is life!

So god is love.

Mrs. Pamela Treadwell, can you love?

Can your blood bubble, flesh melt, thighs

twitch, heart burst for love?

Your lordship, I'm a married woman, and I--

Remember the commandment I gave you.

Love one another as I love you.

Stay back. my husband is a master of hounds.

Fill your hearts, that your souls dance, your eyes,

sparkle.

Be !

Oh, what is it?

A Watusi walking-stick, big people the Watusis.

Ladies, come back!

I'll fill your bodies!

Oh, I'm awfully sorry.

Have you seen my father?

I am the resurrection and the light!

What are those two doing here?

Who's the idiot responsible?

Oh, Dinsdale, of course.

Who else?

You'll have to do something about that boy.

Well, he'll soon be off our hands.

Old Cochran's on his last legs.

That'll mean a by-election.

Well, what about Mrs. Bigger-Jones, Mrs. Treadwell?

We'll say the new earl is eccentric or something.

Better still, heavy drinker.

Be not afraid!

It is I!

But JC, look, I know who you are.

Maybe they don't, and we, I mean, that is us-- oh,

let's go have a glass of sherry.

Well, what did Sir Humphrey say?

Gave me a lot of expensive legal folderol,

but as things stand, there's no way of breaking the will.

Cycle - So?

There's only one possible solution-- a male heir.

What?

Well, Jack had a son.

Sir Humphrey says we could easily get him certified.

Because then everything would pass through the heir.

We could manage the estate till the boy came of age,

and then that way everything would remain in the family.

Oh, brilliant.

Small point, but before he can have an heir,

our lunatic nephew has to be married.

Exactly.

And the sooner the better.

Yes, but don't you understand that these two ladies

are extremely important to me.

Well, I sincerely hope, Jack, that when

they next come down to the manor,

you'll be a trifle more courteous.

Now, be subtle.

Right.

Uh, JC, we were just talking about you and marriage.

We think you should take a wife.

Who from?

I'm sure we could find you a suitable young goddess.

What?

Oh, most appropriate .

I can't marry a second time.

You're already married?

August 28th in the year 1964.

This wife of yours-- what's her name?

Marguerite Gautier.

French, yes.

Gautier, Marguerite Gautier.

Isn't that the lady of "The Comedians"?

You knew her too?

Wonderful.

And that's the tune, isn't it?

Naturally, I came as soon as I could.

We do appreciate it.

Your nephew is not married to the lady of "The Comedians."

He has no wife, but he believes he has,

which is the same thing.

Why did he pick on Marguerite Gautier?

Another martyr for love.

His delusions are all of a piece.

Marguerite is the only person he trusts.

Why does he keep on about love?

Because he wants us all to love goodness.

To love goodness is to love God.

To love God is to love the 14th Earl of Gurney.

That's very clever, but is it the truth?

Don't come to me for the truth, only explanations.

Can I ask you one more question?

If it's as revealing as the others.

Why does he hate being called Jack?

Because it's his real name.

Naturally, he rejects it violently.

If ever he answers to the name of Jack,

then you know he's on the road to sanity.

Doctor, how are my questions revealing?

The first one you asked me was about love.

This is our , Dr. Herder.

He's been with the family for 40 years.

.

How do you find the new earl, Tucker?

I sniff it.

He's a Gurney, a real Gurney.

You don't find him odd?

Odd?

Yes.

Yes odd, peculiar.

Oh.

You mean nutty?

Yes, he's a nut case.

Most of these titled flea bags are.

Rich snobs and privileged assholes

can afford to be bonkers.

They're living in a dream world, aren't they, sir?

Life's made too easy for them.

They don't have to earn a living,

so they do just what they want to.

We'd all look pretty crackers if we went about doing just

what we wanted to, wouldn't we?

Eh?

Yes.

Yes, I suppose.

left Tucker 30 thousand pounds.

Since then he's been very outspoken.

My lady?

No, thank you.

Waste not, want not.

Mind having a look at my back, Doctor?

Lumbago Play acting up again.

Lady of "The Comedians," by Alexandre Dumas.

Camille, is La Traviata, the opera by Verdi.

It's all the same woman, Marguerite

Gautier, a figure of romance.

My dear chap, you prove my point ipso facto,

a divine figure of romance.

Oh, what a pleasant surprise.

How are you?

In the middle of a debate on the existence of my wife,

Marguerite.

Pray continue.

Dinsdale Gurney.

I give up.

You did say it would be impossible to convince him,

Doctor. - Do you see?

It's a play.

The lady of "The Comedians"-- it's fiction.

It's a biography of my Marguerite, affectionately

known as La Dame .

You aren't married.

The woman doesn't exist.

Oh, come on.

You'll be saying I'm not God, Christ,

and the Holy Ghost next.

Well, you're not.

I mean, God wouldn't be so ridiculous

waving his arms around like a maniac, dressed in a white suit

and a red carnation.

The prophet Ezekiel lay 300 days on his left side,

and 40 days on his right.

He cut his hair and divided into three parts.

The first part he burnt, the second

he chopped into pieces, the third he scattered to the wind.

It's all a sign of something more important.

All right.

If you're god, be in your godhead.

No, no, no.

A miracle-- show us a miracle.

Here's a miracle.

Where?

This hand.

The city network of tissues, nerves, muscles, ligaments,

carpals and metacarpals, phalanges, and what

about the hairy nosed wombat?

I don't mean that sort of miracle.

I mean a proper miracle, like the loaves and the fishes.

Oh, those.

You see, 10 billion, million miracles a day,

but you want your conjuring tricks, your pretty flim flams.

Well, I can't raise Lazarus again.

He's decomposed.

So bring me that table.

What are you going to do?

A grade one Galilee miracle.

Now, instead of raising Lazarus, I'll raise you a table.

What, that table?

10 feet.

Not with the aid of mirrors or crippled

midgets behind black curtains, but by the power of love.

Just love?

It moves mountains and makes the puny weeds split the rock.

Believe in me, in loving goodness.

Raise yourself up.

Rise up, slowly, slowly, rise up.

One foot, two, three, four.

Slowly, slowly.

Five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten!

There!

The table floats ten feet in space!

I see it!

It's a bloody miracle!

Drunken lout.

It didn't rise .

Tucker saw!

Believe him!

Did you see it, Doctor?

No.

Into my galvanized pressure cooker--

There's no miracle.

There's no wife.

She doesn't exist.

She's fiction, part of a play, part of an opera.

She's not flesh and blood.

She's not real.

Marguerite.

How dare you bring that woman here?

You should be very grateful to Miss Shelley.

Grace Shelley is your mistress.

Miss Shelley is just a hardworking girl.

On her back.

Best you try and pawn it off on your own brother.

Ralph needed a wife.

He took a fancy to young Miss Shelley.

Well, that didn't work.

So you tried to put the sun.

It's incestuous.

Don't talk about incest.

Madame, I remember your Jeremy .

You went to school with a father,

but you went ahead and seduced the son.

That is incest, madame.

Well, why the hell didn't you warn us?

No time.

After what that trick cyclist told me,

I knew we'd never convince Jack he wasn't married

or that Marguerite didn't exist.

So I telephoned Grace and explained the position.

She got hold of some theatrical , came down here.

She put up a first great show, I thought.

Well, it had impact.

Anyway, Jack believed that she was Marguerite.

All she has to do now is to convince

him he has to marry her again.

Dr. Herder is furious.

Furious?

He's got no right to be furious, he's not family.

But he could make things difficult by having

Jack declared insane before he's produced an heir for you.

Damn kraut!

You will have to keep your eye on him, my dear.

I'm going to have my hands full getting

Grace married and pregnant.

What an entrance!

Beautiful, just beautiful!

The looks on your faces!

I should have stuck to the classics.

Always said I had the voice.

Oh, this dress is tight.

I feel constipated.

Your flower is wilting, dear.

It can't be.

It's wax.

Be careful your husband-to-be doesn't eat it for breakfast.

You're right, Charlie boy.

She is an ice cold biddy.

Ah, she's too clever by half, that woman.

But I get things done my way.

She doesn't know what she wants.

Oh, but I do, Charlie boy.

Lady Grace.

Lady Grace Gurney.

The countess of Gurney.

Now look here, Grace, you mustn't call me Charlie boy.

We've got to be careful.

Oh, if that's what you want.

Oh, it's not what I want, it's what it has to be.

Oh, I'm very fond of you, my dear.

Yeah, well, you have a damn funny way of showing it.

First you push me into the arms of your half-dead half-brother,

and then on to his loony son.

Well, I'd make any sacrifice for the sake of the family.

Now, are you sure you can handle the situation?

Tricky and all, marrying a man who thinks he's God.

Happens all the time.

Hey look, there he is!

Well, better get the show on the road.

Oh, where's me lousy camellia?

Well, I'll be glad to get out of this clobber.

Oh!

No wonder she was dying of consumption!

Now, be careful.

Oh, don't worry, Charlie bo-- Charles.

I've got too much at stake to blow it.

Damn plucky filly.

I say, father.

Mother's just told me that this Lady of the Camellia woman

is just a fake.

Well I mean, I know that JC is as batty as a moorhen,

but this just isn't playing the game, sir.

Game?

What game?

This is no game, sir.

This is real!

My dreams made flesh.

Sorry, I don't speak French.

Oh.

German?

Italian?

Yiddish?

No.

English.

English.

Should've said so before.

Nothing to be ashamed of.

Hard language to master.

But we can't play this love scene with mere words.

Love scene?

What, now?

Love isn't just for one season.

Tweet.

Tweet.

Tweet?

Cuckoo.

Anything you care for?

The Grand Canyon, a disused banana factory, absolution?

A white wedding.

Will Tuesday suit you?

You deserve a big kiss.

Not here in the garden.

Last time I was kissed in a garden,

it turned out rather awkward.

Oh, but Judas was a man.

Yes.

Strange business.

Who are you?

A woman.

Descended from Eve?

No, a doorstep.

I'm an orphan.

We'll be orphans together, Marguerite.

Call me Grace, as I don't speak French.

Grace.

A good name.

It means the gift of faith.

And that's what I have in you.

I'm holding you to that wedding.

Hold hard.

You'll be my queen of queens.

I'll be satisfied with Lady Grace Gurney.

And I say unto you, thou shalt love

the Lord thy God with all thy heart

and all thy soul and all thy mind.

I do.

Oh, I'm so happy.

I'm the sunshine man, the driver of the gravy train,

choo choo choo!

It's so simple for me.

Paradise is just a smiling face.

What's it for you?

For me?

Paradise?

A fireplace, a cozy room.

A little nest.

That nestles. Where the roses bloom.

Sweet Gracey and me.

And baby makes three.

BOTH: We're going to our blue heaven.

When whippoorwills call and evening is nigh,

we hurry to our blue heaven.

A turn to the right.

a little white light, will lead you to our blue heaven.

You'll see a smiling face, a fireplace.

A cozy room.

BOTH: A little nest that

nestles where the roses bloom.

Sweet Gracey and me.

And baby makes three.

BOTH: We're going to our blue heaven.

What are you looking at?

Beauty.

Oh?

Yes, but Jack-- I mean JC-- I mean Bert-- oh, hang it.

You're still a Gurney.

Now, listen.

That Camellia woman is called Grace Shelley.

Close friend of my father's.

He put her onto it, made her dress like that.

It's absolutely ridiculous.

He wants to marry you off.

Well, mother's in in it too.

But I expect old Tuck knows all about it.

Everybody except me.

Stop!

You're making me a stunted dwarf, a deformed midget,

a crippled newt!

Well, what are you doing down there?

It's your negative insinuendo.

Insinuendo?

Insinuendo is insinuation towards innuendo, brought

on by increased negativism out of a negative reaction

to your father's positivism.

Well, I don't know what the devil you're going on about,

but I resent your attitude.

I'm only telling you about Grace Shelley.

She's my righteous, ideal, planned wife!

Don't forget.

Apart from being, God Christ, and the Holy Ghost,

I'm also an LOB, DFC, and ADC.

You're dealing with the big one!

I've told aged Tucker!

Who, same thing!

Injecting me with his Kremlin plots, negative microbes!

I said verbatim, feeling persecuted

is paranoid schizophrenia!

Wretched Dr. H suffered from same!

I watched.

They fight against me.

Where are the signs aiming for Herder's dancing academy?

I am being everybody but Christ.

No, no, no, Charles.

I will not solemnize any marriage,

even of my own nephew, during the period from Advent Sunday

to eight days after Epiphany.

So Charles, it must be Tuesday the 12th,

8:00 AM, private chapel, ordinary license.

Charles, Charles, I have grave misgivings, grave misgivings.

Misgivings?

About Jack?

No, no, no, about the bride, Miss Shelley!

Charles, who is she?

Hmm, hmm?

What is she?

Charles, Charles, look, I fear, I

fear that she may be using this marriage merely

to enhance her social position.

I hear that she says she's some sort of an entertainer.

I will vouch for Grace Shelley.

Mm?

Mm.

My husband's an idiot.

That's not my concern.

The Earl's no longer under my care.

That charade with Miss Shelley made me feel an absolute fool.

And I don't care to underestimate myself.

I apologize.

But Charles had some idea that Jack

might accept her if she dressed up

as the Lady of the Camellias.

Uh, sometimes it's very easy to forget

Sir Charles occupies a position of responsibility and power.

You know he's on the board of the Guldenheim

Research Foundation?

Yes, he mentioned you were asking for a grant.

It's only a nominal 130,000 pounds for the study

of paranoid schizophrenic rats.

But Charles, need we be so hasty?

Charles, God in his infinite mercy

has seen fit to cloud our nervous senses.

Oh, but he will recover.

He will recover, Charles.

God is merciful.

Yes, you must believe that, Charles!

God is merciful in spite of all appearances.

We cannot wait upon God's mercy, Bertie!

Everything is going to pot!

Dr. Herder at least.

Herder?

Herder.

Is he English?

No.

Oh.

Hmm!

We insert fine silver wires into the rat's midbrain.

That rat's behavior is then controlled

by the strength of the current passing through them.

By pressing a button and stimulating

one area of the midbrain, the rat is made to feel threatened.

It attacks any rat in sight.

There's really no threat, but the midbrain

can't tell the difference.

Roughly the same thing happens with human paranoids.

But an unknown area of the brain is stimulated

and they feel threatened without cause.

Naturally, men aren't rats.

Only a man would say so.

Our next step is to conduct similar experiments

on humans' brains.

I see.

Today rats, tomorrow the world.

Who will you wire for vision?

First of all, myself, naturally.

I see.

And if I press a button, you'll feel fear, love?

Love?

No.

Desire, yes.

What?

By pressing a little button?

Oh.

Think of the risk, Doctor.

Oh, there is only one commandment

a doctor need ever worry about.

Thou shalt not advertise.

My heart rises with the sun.

I'm purged of doubts and negative innuendos.

Today I want to bless everything.

Bless the crawfish with its scuttling walk.

Bless the trout, pilchard and periwinkle.

Bless Ted Smoothey of 22 East Hackney Road.

Bless the mealy redpoll, the black-gloved wallaby

and WC Fields, who's dead but lives on.

Bless the snotty-nosed giraffe.

Bless the buffalo.

Bless the Society of Women Engineers.

Bless the pygmy hippos.

Bless the mighty cockroach.

Bless me!

Today's my wedding day!

Wake up, Bertie!

Come, Bertie.

Get on with it.

D- D- Dearly beloved, we are gathered here

together in the sight of God.

Get on with it, Bertie!

And- and- and- and- and- in the face of this company,

to- to- to- to join together this man

and this woman in holy matrimony,

which is an honorable estate--

Instituted by me in the time of man's innocence.

Get on, Bertie!

Therefore, if there be any in this company who can show just

cause why these two may not be joined together,

let him speak now or forever hold his peace.

Load of British jelly-meat whiskers!

Piddling, half-dead helots.

Quiet, Why man!

Show some respect!

I always show respect, sir.

That's what I'm paid for. No one

can say I don't show respect.

Now come on, Bertie!

Now I require and charge-- I require and charge you both

that if either of you know of any impediment why ye may not

lawfully be joined together, that you de now,

you de, ye do now confess it.

Yes, I'm afraid I do know an impediment.

But it's only a rhetorical question, like all the others

in the wedding service.

Oh, tis no good glossing over the fact

that Roman Catholic knackers think I'm already

married to the Virgin Mary.

We're not concerned with what other people think,

especially Roman Catholics.

Get on with it, Bertie.

Come on now.

W-w-wilt thou, wilt thou take this woman to thy,

to thy wedded wife, to live together in holy

wedlock under God's ordinance?

W-w-wilt though love her?

From the bottom of my soul to the tip of my penis,

like a sun in its brightness, the moon in its glory,

no breeze stirs that doesn't bear my love.

Come on, Bertie, come on!

Charles, blasphemy.

But will you love me?

I will.

Wil-wilt thou take this man to-to-to thy wedded husband?

I will.

To live together in ho- holy matrimony?

I will!

You will, yeah.

Who-- who giveth his--

I do!

Oh you, yeah.

Come on, Bertie, get a move on!

R-R-Repeat, repeat after me.

I, I, JC, take thee, Grace Shelley,

t-- t-- to my wedded wife.

I, JC.

the holy flying roller, the morning star,

take thee, Marguerite, called Grace

Shelley, she doesn't speak French, to my wedded wife.

Where are you going, Bertie?

Repeat after me.

Oh, I know the lines.

I, Grace Shelley, take thee, JC, to my wedded husband,

better, worse, richer, poorer, this day, sickness, health,

I plight thee my troth.

Plight thee my troth, yes.

Well, as much as you are now bound in holy wedlock,

I-- I-- I-- I now pronoun-- pronoun--

pronounce thee man and wife!

God has joined together, no man, no-- no man

put asunder in the name of the Father, the, the, the Son, and

the, the Holy, the Holy Ghost.

God have mercy on me!

It's a bit tatty, Jeeves.

No guests, no reception, two plates of curled up sandwiches,

and a deformed wedding cake.

Well, it's not my fault, Your Ladyship.

Oh, Your Ladyship.

That's better.

I'll watch 'em creep and crawl at Harrods.

We thought you'd like a nice quiet affair.

Huh!

Quiet's right!

But what about a toast to the newlyweds or something?

You know!

All right.

Here's to long life and happiness

for the bride and groom.

GROUP: To the bride and groom!

Thank you!

In reply, I name this ship Loving Kindness.

May I keep her and all who sail in her.

Ah, you.

You should've- you should've seen the late Earl's wedding,

m'lady.

Five hundred guests, the creme de menthe.

Wastrels all.

May their carbonized bones rot in hell!

Shut up!

I can't say that I like the idea of you being alone with him.

You're a beauty.

Everything's yours.

Even if you've given it away.

One minute silence, please.

What for?

For all the dead books of World

War I. For Mr. Moto, Sisco Kid, and me.

Muffle the drums, silence.

Shh!

Terrible, isn't it?

That's why I sing, dance, talk--

And love.

Oh, we danced and we sang

and the village bells rang.

On the beautiful night we were married.

Oh, the roses they bloomed.

For the bride and the groom on the beautiful night

we were wed, we were wed.

Tucker.

Oh, they--

Tucker!

Sorry, sir.

Thought you'd like me to liven up this wake.

Where'd they go?

To bed, of course.

I must say, I wouldn't like to be in her shoes tonight.

It's not her shoes he'll be in, Master Dinsdale.

I always get first night nerves!

Well, any good performer does.

You have to be keyed up to give a good show.

I've done it all, from Stanislavsky to strip.

Greasy makeup towels, cracked mirrors, rhinestones and beads.

What a world.

I sang "This Can't Be Love."

Funny.

Did the same act late at the Pigalle for twice the money

without removing a stitch.

Of course, some women can strip without taking

their clothes off.

Nobody could call me undersexed.

But I could never get worked up watching some man strip down

to suspenders and jockstrap.

Well, where's the fun?

I suppose some people just prefer the smell of the steak

better than the steak itself.

Haha, if my mother could see me now.

It's what she always wanted for me, the big time.

Well, she found it hard to settle down to civilian life

after being in a touring company of Chu Chin Chow.

Nobody need worry about me fitting in.

All I have to do is play it cool.

I can cock my little finger with the best.

Darling.

Darling, I'm waiting!

What?

Oh, that's ridiculous!

It's not dignified!

Dignity has nothing to do with divinity.

Oh, not here, not now.

A bike?

You're mad!

Don't be frightened.

I'm not frightened.

I just didn't expect to see my husband

riding a three-wheeled bike on his wedding night.

It's the only way to travel.

Remember, God loves you.

God wants you.

God needs you.

Come to me.

Damn!

Keep pouring.

I'm starving.

It was a damn long night.

All right, Tucker.

I'll serve as always.

Well what happened?

Happened?

Last night.

What'd you do?

Rode around on a three-wheel bike.

Filthy beast.

It must have been one of the governor's old bikes.

The attic's full of his junk.

So you just rode about all night then?

First a bike, then me.

Hmm.

His mind may be wonky, but there's

certainly nothing wrong with the rest of his anatomy.

We Gurneys are damnably virile.

I thought you'd be delighted to find out he's not impotent.

Oh, aye.

Delighted.

Delighted.

Good morning.

Was it successful?

Should have sold bleeding tickets.

Really, Claire?

How could you ask that?

Well, it was your idea, remember?

If he was incapable, somebody else

might have to step into the bridge for him.

Charles, tell her to keep her sharp tongue

and low mind to herself.

Oh, she has claws.

Look, this is my pad now, remember?

If you want to keep kibitzing here,

just belt up on the snide remarks,

or you'll find yourself horizontal.

A position you're clearly familiar with.

Now look here, you granite-faced old dodo--

How dare you speak to me like that!

Why can't you look at my back?

I keep telling you, I'm a psychiatrist.

It's just because I'm on the national health, isn't it?

Damn money grubbers.

You and your hypocrite's oath.

Wait a minute.

Who the hell do you think you are?

Will you two shut up?

Dr. Herder!

I've come to offer my congratulations on the wedding.

Dr. Herder, this is Lady Grace Gurney.

How do you do, Doctor?

So nice to meet you at last.

You'll stay to lunch?

I want to talk to you about my husband.

And i want to talk to you.

I'm so sorry you weren't told about the wedding,

but we didn't invite anybody except the close family.

Besides, you'd have tried to talk me out of it,

and it wouldn't have done any good.

I love him.

You should have consulted me before you went ahead.

It's madness.

Calm, doctor.

You said he needed a harsh dose of reality?

Well, you can't get a harsher dose of the stuff

than marriage.

It can't be legal!

It's legal.

My brother in law conducted the service.

He's a bishop.

What do you say, Lady Claire?

Congratulations.

Congratulations?

On getting your Golden Hand Grant?

Yes, congratulations, old boy.

I had a word with the chairman, told

him you were a sound fellow.

Sit down.

Help yourself to coffee, doctor.

You made love to me to make sure I

wouldn't cause any trouble.

You seduced me to make sure the 130,000 pounds

for your schizophrenic rats.

Don't be tiresome.

It's all right.

They agreed to be cut.

See the sunflower in the center?

And the roses?

And the three sweet Williams and

and evergreen for loving memory?

And I mean every word of it.

It's so beautiful.

Thank you.

I've shaken the silver gong of the universe.

Bong!

Oh, gracious heart, love is my theme, and it frightens them.

Happiness my gift, and they run.

I try to tie the air in knots and make

mountains out of water.

It's hopeless, darling.

That's not a word in love's lexicon.

We'll hear the voice of the turtle throughout the land.

Yes.

Glop, glop, glop.

You fool!

You fool!

I don't like being made a fool of, Claire.

Nobody's making a fool of you.

The Gurneys must have an heir.

As soon as there is one, Charles will have JC committed.

The only way you can change the plot,

Doctor, is by making the 14th Earl of Gurney sane

like the rest of us.

You haven't much time.

Lady Grace isn't the type to survive

the rabbit test for long.

Your lordship, this is the first

of a series of experiments I'm going

to conduct with your help.

Ask and thou shalt receive.

Experiment 1.

What does that look like?

Is it a dragon?

A spider?

What does it remind you of?

God.

And this?

God.

Everything that is or ever shall be reminds me of me.

If it didn't remind you of you,

what would it remind you of?

An ink blot.

Your lordship, this is a lie detector.

It will give us an objective truth.

Experiment 7.

Your lordship, are you God?

No.

Doctor!

This machine says he's lying!

For Experiment 11, I've asked his lordship

to visit Ward C. That's where we keep some of the more

extreme mental patients.

I'm hoping they may provide a beneficial shock.

But isn't it dangerous?

No, no, no, no.

I have assistants outside and inside.

Besides, you haven't given me much time, so I'm forced

to try unorthodox methods.

He's been inside for about 20 minutes.

There was a lot shouting at first, but now, listen.

To make the wounded whole,

there is a balm in Gilead, to heal the seasick soul.

Can you believe it?

JC has got labor pains, too.

It's called couvade-- sympathetic illness.

Psychosomatic, not at all unusual.

Oh, I never developed anything when

Lady Claire here was pregnant.

I'm sure you didn't.

Mighty Mouse, it's roaring!

What are you up to now?

A colleague of mine is sending in some help.

Yes, a personal favor.

Do you need us here?

Yes.

But whatever happens, you must not interfere.

I'm going to prove that it's impossible for two objects

to occupy the same space at the same.

Doctor Herder, Mr. McKyle is here.

Good.

Show him straight in.

Certainly, sir.

I'll just lie down on the doorstep

and let him walk over me.

JC?

I'm going to show you the world in the hard light of truth.

I am the light of truth, the light of the world.

This is Experiment 15.

Well, now.

Shall we get on with it?

Let me introduce you first.

Oh, there's no need.

I'm sure they all know me here.

Who else has electricity steaming from his eyeballs

and from his fingers?

I'm the high voltage messiah.

The who?

The electric Christ.

The AC/DC god.

You look fused.

Cannot you see the wall plug in my forehead?

Here, here.

Takes everything I eat and drink

and turns it into watts and kilowatts.

Are you saying you're God too?

God the 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10.

Testing.

Testing.

Have you never seen God before?

I have, sir.

I'm God.

You are not God!

You are what my snuff bag's made of!

I've obliterated hundreds of dupe messiahs in my time!

You think I'd go around saying I was God if I could help it?

I've not traveled 20 million miles through galactic space

to bandy words with a foxy moon loony who thinks he's me.

I'm here!

You're there.

I'm here and there too!

Do not trifle with me, laddie.

I'm Jehovah, of the Old Testament, the vengeful god!

Away, or you'll be dropped!

But you both can't be gone.

You're trying to split my mind with his tongue.

Away, laddie, or I'll burn you to a crispy noodle.

You can't touch me!

I'm the rock and the !

The goat!

The sacred .

The upright testicle!

The bull!

I saw my son Jamie die.

He had a cancer at the base of his spine and one on his head.

They put the black spider treatment on him.

It crawled all over, cracking the body

with his nipples!

I could cure your bursting by a release of beam

into you to clear away the sick pus, the sack of pus,

the white pus, the dead fetus.

But first, I must deal with your Irishman.

I'm earthed!

I'm dead.

Recharge!

This is your responsibility, doctor, damn you!

If we lose this child--

I say, super news!

dead.

This means .

Now, Dinsdale!

Mrs. Darby is a qualified midwife.

She'd resent me interfering professionally.

You're not going on with this!

I won't be able to get McKyle out again.

It's my last chance.

Why persecutes thou me?

Look, will someone please tell me what's going on here?

Life, Mr. Dinsdale!

The rich moth-eaten tapestry of life.

Come on, come on.

Quick!

Right, .

Gentlemen, it's important to know which

of you is telling the truth.

If one of you is God, the other must be somebody else!

I stand accused of not being who I am-- the hereafter

named and contested God!

I made the world in my image, and I'm .

Thy peacock is a moth which only lives two days.

With no mouth to eat or drink, it flies miles

to love, breathe, and die.

Consider a life of love without one selfish act.

And they put me away for 17 years!

Only the sick, with spiders' webs in their brains,

clack on about love and goodness.

I am a brave god for bashing babes' heads out on rocks!

A brave God for strong stomachs!

Where are the children of light?

The children of light you know are far, far away.

This is Earth, man!

One of my earliest failures!

Earth is where I dumped the excrement of the universe.

People care for love!

We don't want love!

We want a big fat slice of revenge!

Kiss my ass, Tucker, you unmitigated stinker.

No God of love made this world.

I have seen a girl of four whose nails have

been torn out by her father.

I have seen the mountains of gold teeth and hair,

and the millions boiled down for soap!

What kind of God t-t-t-turns his

back on his people and breaks wind

and the stage clouds the globe?

I am the high voltage man, closer to God than you!

You sentimental !

The light!

The light of truth.

Here's the truth!

You're Jack Gurney, the 14th Earl of Gurney.

And I'm the Count of !

You're lying!

The family tricked you into marriage.

They wanted an heir.

I'm not, I'm not .

And if the baby turns out to be a boy,

they'll have you in a straight jacket before you can--

No, stop!

I am the father!

I'm splitting!

Crowned!

Crowned!

Coming out!

Crowned Bob.

I am the father!

You're the father of nothing!

1 million votes.

2 million votes.

3 million votes.

4 million votes.

5 million votes.

6 million votes.

7 million votes.

8 million votes.

9 million, 10 million.

Get out of it.

Jack.

What?

Jack.

My name is--

That's right.

Your name is Jack.

It's worked.

Hallelujah!

Hallelujah!

Right, .

Jack?

My name's Jack.

It's a boy!

A boy!

Jack.

I'm Jack.

I'm Jack.

I'm Jack.

Oh for the wings or the wings of a dove, far away, far away

would I roam.

Vincent Henry Edward Ralph Gurney,

I baptise thee in the name of the Father and of the son

and of the Holy Ghost.

Amen.

What a pair of lungs.

He's a trooper.

Coochie coochie coochie!

Oh, he's a splendid little fellow, isn't he, Bertie?

A little newly filled in the Holy Spirit.

The somewhat leaky vessel.

Leaky or not, he saved you Gurneys from extinction.

What about his lordship?

The family came to a decision some time ago

that after certain battles were cleared up,

he'd be put away permanently.

That was before child.

Everything's changed.

I hear he's improved so far.

So of course he may slip back into darkness's shadow.

Sometimes it's worse.

Now he's not completely potty.

I mean, we'll all be waiting for him to go off.

Tick, tick, tick, boom.

Well, we've all been extremely lucky up to now.

But with this byelection coming up, it's getting too dangerous.

I think it'd be best all around if he were put away.

It would be best all around if the bloody lot of you

were put away.

You must realize the battle between the god of love

and the electric messiah is a tremendous breakthrough.

Yes, but is he cured?

He's on the way to recovery.

His behavior is near an acceptable norm.

Frankly, I don't know if it's permanent.

I do you mustn't have him committed.

This case could become classical psychology.

Freud's , now Herder's Earl of Gurney.

Call me Jack.

You say he's recovering.

Jack?

A pleasant name.

Jack.

Jack?

Why are you walking like that?

Oh.

Reasonable.

I found this in the attic.

Why aren't you resting?

I wanted to apologize for not being at my son's christening.

The little devil stole the show.

I must be sure, before I make my first public appearance,

important to leave the right impression.

When I re-- re-- re-- relax

overall impression of superiority

and volatile thoughts.

Hordham's bloody network!

Hold, sir.

Hold, hold, hold.

How do you feel, Jack?

Lazarus felt like I feel-- holder of .

liquid street unstable.

Backs, back, back, back.

Be patient.

I'll learn the rules of the game.

We know you will.

Well, you've changed already.

You wished to take a constitutional at noon, m'lord.

Thank you, Tuck.

An invaluable man, Tuck.

There are some here who don't think so, m'lord.

They're just waiting to give me the boot.

You and me both, Tuck.

You must give them no cause, no cause.

Don't stay out too long, Jack.

Just wanted to get the feel of terra firma.

I must learn to keep my mouth shut, bowels open and never

volunteer.

Come, Tuck.

Well, is he changed or hasn't he?

I just know he'll recover.

I want him to.

I love him so much.

I know he'll forgive me for what I did.

Won't he?

Aren't we all rather jumping the gun just a bit?

I mean, look at the way he suddenly goes off.

Volatile thoughts are done to me.

I mean, what was that all about?

Parallelia.

They're a speech disturbance.

It would be simpler if a man were paranoid one minute

and cured the next.

Unfortunately, it takes a little longer.

Well, what about all these Victorian bric a brac

he's got all over the place?

In the end, it's her ladyship's decision.

It isn't.

It's done.

Done?

I've asked the master in lunacy to come down

here and certify Jack insane.

You devious, horrible bastard!

Oh, Jack!

Do you think he's done the decent thing at last?

That could have been me.

You're waving that gun about all over the place, m'lord.

Not that anybody would care.

Nobody would weep for poor creeping Tuck.

Tuck!

Well, I'm not ready for the fiery furnace yet.

Awful lot of living to do.

Girls by the hundred.

The name only a few.

Are you all right, Jack?

What were you doing, Jeeves?

Guzzling.

It's your job to look after his lordship.

Oh please help.

I'm stuck in the brambles.

Tuck!

So you're still in one piece?

Disappointed?

I was only trying to do what's expected.

I recall it's a sign of normalcy in our circle to slaughter

anything that moves.

All I did was--

You bloody maniac!

I've been shot!

Poachers!

After him, Tucker!

Come on, ya devil!

Hey!

What's your name then?

Could you come here?

Oh Father, could you help me--

I know.

I had an accident with an old gun.

I've stolen my shoe, and you still think I'm insane.

Give me time.

Time?

There's no time left.

Sir Charles has asked the master in lunacy

to come here to commit you to an institution.

Naturally, I'll oppose any commitment,

but everything depends on how you act.

Perhaps it's for the best.

If I satisfy the lunatic master, I'll be officially sane

and have a certificate to prove it.

But Charles has been unwise.

You'll catch your deaths out here.

Odd expression.

We'll be all right, Jack.

What a family.

Enough to send anyone around the bend.

The only sensible thing I've done in the last eight years

has been to marry you.

Well don't stay out too long.

Charles is a bloody moron.

I'll have his guts for garters.

Soft.

Softly.

Down, down.

Oh let me keep it down.

Pianissimo!

Dap down!

Dap down.

Down.

I'm a soft grub

They'll rip me open, nail my brain to my skull!

Thug!

Thug!

That means you!

Thug!

Thug!

Silence when you speak!

Silence!

Steady the baths!

Waiter?

I say, waiter!

There's a mustache in my soup!

I know the price of every article in this room.

So if there's anything missing, we'll know where to look,

won't we?

Hm?

Lordship?

It's the man from the loony bin.

He's in the library.

Watch yourself.

Right.

There you go, son.

You must be Truscott, the lunatic fellow.

I'm the Master of the Court of Protection.

The title "master in lunacy" isn't used nowadays.

Snifter.

No?

You should know why I'm here.

Introduce myself first.

Jack Gurney, the Earl of Gurney.

Sit down, why don't you?

I understand Charles considers me incapable,

and you're here to commit me officially.

Not exactly, my Lord.

I make a recommendation to a nominated judge,

and he does the actual committing.

This investigation, however, is rather informal,

a favor to Charles.

Yours is a confusing case.

Two doctors recommend you be put under care,

but Dr. Herder says you're nearly back to normal.

Of course he is a foreigner, and his ideas of normal

may not be mine.

How do you find out about me?

You talk, I listen.

Oh.

Talk.

Judas-- talk.

Do you still believe you're Christ, my lord?

Are you God?

Come, sir.

Are you the god of love?

Hero may be more clever.

What?

Ruckby may make more row.

But we'll row, row, row forever, steady from stroke to bow.

And nothing in life will sever the chain that is round us now.

Others may fill our places, dressed in the old light blue.

We'll recollect our races.

We'll to the flag be true.

A But we'll still swing together and swear

by the best of schools.

But we'll still swing together and swear

by the best of schools.

The old "Eton Boating Song."

I didn't realize you're Kelso Truscott.

The Kelso!

The greatest athlete the school ever had.

A long time ago.

Oh, no, no, no.

When I went to school, the first thing one heard-- the days

of your glory, Truscott.

Oh, dear.

One day apparently, you debagged the chaplain

and hit the local Constable over the head

with an ebony shillelagh.

Ah, school days.

School days.

It's all ahead of you then.

You realize, your lordship, the fact

can't have no possible influence on my recommendation.

Of course, I find it even harder to believe now.

Now are you the god of love?

He no longer exists.

I've been raving for eight years, Truscott.

Eight years?

That accounts for you not being at any of the old boys or union

dinners.

I went around saying, God loves you.

Loves you.

I'm sorry there, Truscott.

Embarrassing for a chap to remember what

a spectacle he's made of himself, you know?

You seem right enough to me, but these things are deceptive.

Is there anything you feel strongly about, my lord?

My-- -- wasted years.

I woke up the other morning with gray hairs.

Gray hairs and duty neglected.

Our country is being destroyed!

You're mocked in the stand if you talk of patriotism

and the old queen.

Discipline is gone.

They're sacking the foundations of our society

with their adultery and fornication.

The barbarians are waiting outside with chaos, anarchy,

homosexuality and worse!

Well?

Dr. Herder, you said his lordship

was on the road to recovery.

I can't agree.

There.

You're too cautious.

For my money, he's recovered.

It's absolutely marvelous.

Oh, honey!

I'm so grateful to you, Mr. Truscott.

Thank you, your ladyship.

We'll be expecting his lordship at the next reunion dinner.

You're lucky this is only a friendly investigation,

old boy.

We take a dim view of frivolous complaints.

Kelso?

Yes, your lordship?

I'll see you out.

Truscott's a damned ass.

Can't he see I'm right?

Right?

I've had enough of your right.

You have stuck your aristocratic schnozzle into my affairs

for the last time.

Right?

Jack's changed, right.

Everything's changed-- you, me, us, them.

It's a new deal all around, right?

You know what I mean, right?

Right!

You did it, Jack.

Wonderful.

Yes.

He's made a spectacular breakthrough.

We're in the process of making a new man.

I'm always on the lookout for new men.

Deformed, unfinished, sent before my time

into this breathing world.

I'm cured of fantasy obsessions, paranoid delusions.

I master words.

I-- straighten up there-- am-- close up with I,

you horrible little word--

God.

I am God.

Not the God of Love, but God Almighty.

I massacred the Malachites and the seven nations of Canaan.

I hacked Agog to pieces and blasted the baron fig tree,

for the day of vengeance is my heart.

You lunar jackass, she betrayed you.

Guilty, guilty, guilty.

The punishment is death.

I've finally been processed.

They made me adjust to modern times.

This is 1888, isn't it?

I'm Jack-- cunning Jack, quiet Jack,

Jack whose sword never sleeps.

Hats off.

I'm Jack.

Not the good shepherd, not the prince of peace.

I'm red Jack, Spring Heeled Jack, Jack from hell.

Trade name?

Jack the Ripper.

Mary, Annie, Elizabeth, Katherine, Alice, Marie Kelly.

Six little whores, glad to be alive.

One saddles up to Jack, and then there are five.

When they see how Jack's changed,

they'll spread the word.

Then everyone will know he's back to normal.

Well I don't think he is.

Oh you're just siding with your father.

Where is the old goat?

He's back in the library.

Do you know I think he's heading for a serious breakdown?

I actually saw him reading a book.

I don't understand how you got the hunch

to invite Jack to come along.

Oh, I'm still a ladyship.

60 miles out of town, an awful lot of cap touching and bullock

tugging still goes on.

I gather that the atmosphere was

a trifle strained on your last visit to Gurney manor.

Well, it was our first meeting with his lordship.

He asked me if I-- if I loved him.

Your manservant heard him.

When did he say God is love?

Because he was mad.

Mad with grief.

My father had just died.

Talk of the devil.

Darling, you remember Mrs. Piggot-Jones and Mrs.

Treadwell?

We've met.

Well, you remember.

You asked me if I loved.

Please.

Not in public.

I keep telling Pamela not to brood about it.

Let's have no talk of bestial orgasms, erotic tuggings.

It burns high voltage holes in the brain.

It's been proved in oscillographs.

My husband hates anything suggestive.

I hear that you got Sir Barrington

Cochran to speak at your church

before he passed away.

He made a splendid speech about

the rise of crime .

I shall campaign actively for the reintroduction

of the death penalty.

Bravo.

You mean there's no death penalty

and England's green and pleasant?

Well, surely you knew that they--

We're a bit out of touch.

The hangman holds our society together.

He was the symbol of the great chastiser.

He built this world on punishment and fear.

Snuff out fear, and see what follows.

Sons strike their doddering dads.

Young girls show their ankles and bosoms

and say rude things about the queen!

Anything goes, and they do it openly in the street

and frighten the horses.

It's the times.

What can we do about it?

Bring back fear!

Hear hear.

In the old days, the executioner

kept the common herd in order.

When he stood on its gallows, you knew God was in his heaven,

all right with the world.

The punishment for blaspheming was to be broken on the wheel.

First a fibula, crack.

Then the tibia, patella and femur.

Crack, crack, crack!

Then the corpus, ulna, and radius, crack!

Disconnect dem bones, them dry bones.

Disconnect dem bones, dem dry bones.

Disconnect dem bones, dem dry bones.

Now hear the word of the Lord.

Well your head bone's connected to your neck bone,

your neck bone's connected to your shoulder bone.

Your shoulder bone's connected to your back bone,

your back bone's connected to your hip bone,

your hip bone's connected to your side bone.

Now hear the word of the lord.

Dem bones, dem bones gonna walk around.

Dem bones, dem bones gonna walk around.

Dem bones, dem bones gonna walk around.

Now hear the word of the lord.

Disconnect dem bones, dem dry bones.

Disconnect dem bones, dem dry bones.

Disconnect dem bones, dem dry bones.

Now hear the word of the lord.

Ladies and gentlemen, we understand each other

perfectly.

Breeding speaks to breeding.

He's so impressive your ladyship, isn't he?

A little eccentric on the surface, but deep down, sound.

He is so like his father.

Gets more like him every day.

It's frightening.

God .

And send you a fine fair fox.

Join me for a cigar instead.

No thank you, Jack.

It's up the wooden staircase to bed .

Well don't be too long, darling.

I'm just going to kiss little Jack goodnight.

singing.

You were wonderful at the humt today.

I'm still not word perfect.

All that talk of bestial orgasms.

It wasn't what you said.

It was your manner that won them over.

I stand outside myself, watching myself,

watching myself.

I smile, I smile, I smile.

I like your smile.

Before I was only sorry for you.

Oh before, Madame.

Before, I was a mass of light.

Mad, you see.

Now I'm sane.

The world sweats into my brain, Madame.

Don't keep calling me Madame.

It's hard to look at people from down wind.

They stink.

It's terrible.

But it's a real thing.

I've always wanted to find the real thing.

You'll remember our first talk together.

I remember nothing.

Explode.

Only feel, you said.

Poor Jack.

Why do you remember now what I said then

when I don't remember myself?

Because you're so-- different.

I'm trembling like I used to tremble

at shadows when I was a child.

I'm no shadow.

I'm flesh and blood.

Touch.

Perhaps I'm not really dead, only sleeping.

Wake me with a kiss.

Are you accosting me?

That's right, .

Cockles and mussels!

Cockles and mussels alive!

Alive!

Alive oh!

Jack?

Yes?

Are you pleased this has happened?

We were destined to meet.

That sounds romantic.

More, please.

Orgasm, copulation, fornication.

Gangrene shoulder sex.

Tear.

Spill the seed.

Gut slime.

I know some women like being stimulated by dirty words

and filthy talk, but I don't.

Flesh lusteth against the spirit.

Run, Mary, run!

You're talking nonsense again, Jack.

You'll be necked down to your bloody membrane, Mary.

So soft, tender.

Calves.

Tender tongues.

Ear lobes.

Hearts.

Tits.

Nipples.

Lover.

The sword of the lord is filled with blood.

Let us stop talking, Jack.

Make me immortal with a kiss.

I'm alive!

What's going on?

Is she dead?

He's Jack the Ripper!

Oh, Lady Claire.

Oh, thank .

Could I be of any assistance?

One less!

Praise the lord!

Hallelujah!

Hallelujah!

Hallelujah!

What?

Good God!

Oh!

All right.

Who's the impudent clown responsible for this?

The super had a word with him before we left.

He's a close friend of Sir Charles Gurney's, you know.

Tricky, sir.

There's to be no publicity, and he

wants it wrapped up quick.

We therefore commit our dear sister's body to the ground.

Earth to earth.

Vladimir Ilyich Ulyanov Lenin.

German Mao Zedong.

So that's his little game.

She was beautiful as

and comely as Jerusalem.

And now she's gone.

Down, down, down.

Up, up, up she flies.

Her soul flies up.

Surely, you believe she's gone to another place

to enjoy even greater privileges than she had on earth.

Israeli And I think of her so fondly.

No no no, it's not such a terrible death.

There, there, there.

Forgive an old man's wavering.

Lean on me.

Trust God's judgment.

There, there dear boy.

You make an old man ashamed.

You have been such a great, great source of strength

to me Jack.

I won't forget this mate.

I won't forget this.

Jack, you're the instrument that restored my faith.

I-- -- feel reborn.

I found a way again, a way.

Come, my boy.

Let me walk humbly with my God, my God.

Yes.

How could anything like this happen to us?

What was mother thinking?

Not in front of strangers.

Pull yourself together, Dinsdale.

Brockett, why aren't you running this animal to earth?

Oh, don't you worry, sir.

We're going.

But there's still a few points I'd like to clear up.

Now we know the butler found the body just after the killer

left by the French windows.

And when you came in a moment later, sir,

whereabouts was he standing?

Who?

Well, the baby's asleep.

What are you up doing?

Oh, Brockett, this is our ladyship.

He wants to know how we found Tucker beside Claire's body.

Oh, here.

By the hokey cokey.

The hokey cokey?

Yes, you know.

The hokey cokey.

Now why would he be doing anything like the hokey cokey?

He was drunk.

Senile, old, foolish, to be booted out years ago.

But he's not the only one you should check.

What about my nephew?

I think that's rather disgraceful, father.

Charles, you've been through a lot, but I warn you.

I'm not saying he's involved but--

But?

I'll give you but!

Charles, you're not doing this for Claire.

You're doing it because you are jealous.

Because I love my husband.

Madame, you will never be a Gurney.

I'd rather be dead.

Is this the way to behave in the presence of death?

Forgive him, Jack.

Forgive him, my boy.

They know not what they do.

Thank you.

Dinsdale, shouldn't you answer those letters of condolence?

Nonsense! Let them wait.

No, no, no, no.

Jack's right.

Create a good impression.

Takes my mind off things.

It's been a bad day for me, what with one thing or another.

My lord, there are still a few details I'd like to clear up.

Now on the night of the murder, you talked with Lady Claire

till 11:30.

How was she when you left her?

Unhappy.

Why was that?

Damn it, Brockett.

What the devil does it matter how my wife was feeling?

You went straight up to bed and heard nothing?

I heard Tucker singing.

Mhm.

But he said he didn't leave the kitchen till 12:00.

Odd.

An important question, my lord.

Now think hard now.

Has anything unusual happened here recently?

Anything out of the ordinary?

Your ladyship?

Sir Charles?

Bishop?

Get him, Fraser!

What's this?

What are you doing?

All right, all right!

What's the idea?

I've got a plane to catch.

You going somewhere, Tucker?

Mr. Tucker, flatfoot.

It looks it, doesn't it?

It's cockles and champagne for yours truly.

Yay, Paris, where are all the girls say "oui oui."

A bit sudden, isn't it?

I'm a creature of impulse, your ladyship.

You're not going anywhere, Tucker me lad.

I've got questions I want answering.

Now why were you found standing like this beside the body?

Eh? Eh?

Shock.

That's it.

Shock.

Shock?

I'll give you shock, my lad.

I've told you all I know.

Oh, have you?

Daniel Tucker, alias Alexei Kronstadt.

Party member number 243.

Murdering swine.

Jeeves, a Bolshie?

You're a red.

Right I am!

What's it to you how I spend my leisure time, flatfoot?

You're a suspect in a murder case.

You concealed certain facts about yourself.

What else are you hiding, Tucker?

Suspect?

I'm a suspect?

This is all talk, your lordship.

All talk, no action.

I couldn't commit a crime if I wanted.

I'm not the type!

You told me you discovered Lady Claire's body just

before the others came back.

Yet his lordship here swears he herd you down here in this room

a half hour before.

Oh, no.

You're wrong about that, my lord.

If my hand offends thee, cut it off.

Say something for me, your lordship.

Tell him you're wrong.

You're the only one that can help me.

Why, you always was my favorite, master Jack.

The old Earl, just before he died,

said, look after that feeble-minded idiot, Jack,

for me Tuck.

I could have gone, but I stayed.

Tuck, it was you.

Spawn out of envy, hate, revenge.

You killed her!

Oh, damn, damn.

You dirty old man, inspector.

Damn you, Tucker.

Judas Jack Iscariot.

You've shown me down the sewer.

You're just like all the rest of them.

And I know why.

You did it.

You and Sir Charles, standing there like a .

You Gurneys don't draw the line at murder.

Upper class excrement!

You want to do me dirt.

Just because I know too much.

I know the 1% of the population owns half

the property in this country.

And that vomity 1% wants kosher killing.

so the blue bloods drains out slow and easy.

So come rains, come rally.

And the last fight, let us face.

The international army unites the human race.

I am only a strolling vagabond.

So goodnight, pretty maiden.

Goodnight.

It's what I've always said.

You can't give the working class money.

If he hadn't had that 30,000 pounds.

Fancy.

Old Jeeves!

Well Lord, I'd like to say what a pleasure

it's been meeting you.

It couldn't have been easy.

It wasn't.

But you realized I was only doing me job.

You've shown me what noblesse oblige really means.

Engarde!

No, no.

I cured you.

You couldn't turn violent.

You believe more or less what other people believe.

Your job is done here, doctor.

I'm adjusted.

I brush my teeth twice daily and smile.

You call that being adjusted?

Behavior which would be considered

insanity in a tradesman is looked on as mild eccentricity

in a lord.

What to know about Claire?

She's dead, doctor.

One of the facts of life.

I know that.

She's turning to slime, doctor.

She's stinking pus--

It's time to leave the stage!

You killed her.

A touch.

You killed her!

You killed her!

A swordsman worthy of me steel!

Didn't we meet at Heidelberg?

You killed her!

You were fornicating lovers, sperm dancers!

It's a lie!

Lady Claire meant nothing to me.

Cock a doodle do!

You killed her!

You cured me!

I was a pale, moon loony.

You changed me into a murderer.

Is that what you're saying?

Yes!

No!

Yes!

May God forgive me.

Never!

What proof have you?

I don't need proof.

I know.

Physician, hear thyself.

You suddenly know against all the evidence?

You don't need proof from anybody or anything.

This monstrous belief of yours that I'm guilty

is a clear case of paranoia.

I've heard of transference, doctor, but this is ridiculous.

If they ask about me at the trial, tell them the truth.

What truth?

That I'm 100% normal.

Oh, doctor.

He's right.

He is normal.

It's only a feeling.

I can't rely on feelings.

Everything he's done conforms to a classic recovery pattern.

His occasional lapses are normal.

His trying to blackmail me into saying he's completely normal

is normal.

Clear as death.

One of those terrible ironies, nothing to do with the case.

Unpleasant as he is, the good lord is himself again.

My head's splitting!

I've had an abdomen full of the upper classes!

Claire.

I should have specialized in heart diseases.

Cock a doodle doo.

You made me deny you.

Cock a doodle doo.

Cock a doodle doo.

Cock a doodle doo.

Good, good.

Only a small item on Page 3 today.

What are you doing?

I'm still answering these letters of condolence.

Damn, let them wait.

No, no.

Jack's right.

It's my duty.

Oh, now it's Jack.

This Jack, that--

Jack, let's take off.

It's been hell here.

We need a holiday.

Good idea.

No.

I'm taking my seat in the House of Lords.

What?

What, now?

So soon after illness?

Don't you think-- are you ready for them?

Are they ready for me, Madame?

We're going to work as a team once I am elected.

Jack in the House of Lords, me in the other place.

We think alike about a lot of things.

That's asking for trouble.

Fine spectacle you made gibbering in the upper house.

You're so bloody tactful, Charles.

Look, if Jack thinks he's ready for them,

then I'm with him all the way.

Me too.

It's out of the question!

Who asked you a question?

Did you ask him a question?

Nobody asked a question, so I'll ask a question.

Who is the head of the Gurney family?

You are, Jack.

Then don't let me hear you answering

unasked questions again.

Don't make a complete ass of yourself, Father.

From now on, just shut up, Charles.

Your brain's silting, Charles.

Don't talk to me like that.

It's over.

Finished.

And stop sniggering, you young pup!

I'm not sniggering, Father.

I know sniggering.

It will happen to you one day.

Suddenly you'll be standing there

and nobody's paying any attention to you.

You start coughing.

Your mouth goes dry.

Some white, watery dribbles.

Well, it's hard!

Because inside, you're still 21.

But your feet go flop, flop, flop And-- look at the--

Inside, one is still 21.

There, there, Father.

That's enough.

That's enough.

You've had a good innings, but it's milk

rusks and beddy byes for you.

You're more than just cured, Jack.

You've got that something extra--

what we call star quality.

It will be a triumphant climax.

Talking of climaxes, you were a lot more

loving when you were potty.

Do you still love me, Jack?

Of course I do, Annie.

Honey, why Annie?

Annie, Elizabeth, Katherine, Alice, .

Jack, you're not going off again.

Oh, it's nothing my dear.

I have a big day ahead of me.

I'm speaking in the House of Lords.

Don't worry, it's only nerves.

You'll kill them.

In time.

And then you'll get around to me, I hope.

Promise?

Oh, Jack.

You're so lovely when you smile.

Oh, Jack.

Must get my grouch thought in order, flow and contra

Don't worry.

You're one of them, only more so.

Just be your own sweet self and they'll

adore you like I adore you.

Oh, Jack.

See if the car is ready.

Annie.

Ass lickers!

I don't know nothing!

I want justice!

I, Jack Arnold Alexander Tankard, Earl of Gurney,

do swear by Almighty God that I will be faithful and bear

true allegiance to her gracious majesty, her heirs and

successors, according to law.

So help me God.

My lords!

My lords!

I wish to call attention to the grave disquiet

throughout the country and the increase of immortality.

Yes.

My lords, my lords.

I must support the noble Lord.

For 13 years, there has been no flogging, no hanging,

and a steadily rising volume of crime,

lawlessness, and thuggery.

Aye.

I believe that the sissy treatment of young thugs

is utterly wrong.

Hear hear.

Me lords, we must step up the penalties

by making hanging and flogging the punishment

for certain state crimes.

The criminal must be treated as an animal.

Hear hear.

My lords.

I had doubts about speaking here.

But after what I've heard, I realize this is where I belong.

My lords, these are grave times, killing times.

Stars collapse.

Universes shrink daily.

But the natural order is still crime, guilt, punishment.

There's no love without fear.

By His hand, sword, pike and grappling hook, God the crowbar

of the world, flays, stabs, bludgeons,

mutilates, just as I was!

It--

You have forgotten how to punish, my noble lords.

The strong must manipulate the weak.

That's the first law of the universe.

The hard survive.

The soft quickly turn to corruption.

This is a call to greatness.

Approach this day oh to battle against your enemies.

Let not your hearts faint.

Fear not and do not tremble, neither be

ye terrified because of them.

For the Lord, your God, is He that goeth with you

to fight for you against your enemies to save you.

And mine eye shall not spare, neither will I have pity.

I will recompense them according to their ways

and their abominations that are in the midst of them,

and they shall know that I am the lord that smiteth!

You're one of us at last.

Well done, Jack.

Onward Christian soldiers, marching as to war.

With the cross of Jesus, going on before.

Christ the royal master, leads against the foe.

Forward into battle, see his banners go!

Onward Christian solders!

Marching as to war, with the cross of Jesus going on before.

Rainbow in the sky, the sunshine in my eyes.

You're everything to me.

Oh, my Jack.

The silver running stream, the lazy summer dream.

You're everything to me.

Oh, my Jack.

You're my world.

You're my life.

You're my dream come--

I'm Jack.

I'm Jack.

I'm Jack.