All language subtitles for Hotel.Portofino.S01E02.720p.AMZN.WEBRip.x264-GalaxyTV.en

So, are we friends again?

Bella?
Yes?

I said, "Are we friends again?"

Yes.

So...? Say it.

We're friends again.
Good.

You know I can't bear it
when I'm in bad odour with you.

Must you?

Bellakins.

It was nice, wasn't it?

Yes.

Then why do you look like
such a wet weekend?

I have a lot on my mind.

Don't tell me.
I know you hate talking about money.

I don't hate talking about it,

I hate all the unpleasantness that
comes with not having enough of it!

Of course, there is an easy solution
to all of this, sweetheart.

No. Cecil, there is nothing easy

about asking my father
for more money.

There you go again.

He's been generous.
He's been more than generous to us.

Please!

He's paid out precisely what was
agreed in our marriage settlement.

Not a penny more or less.
None of which has come to us.

Don't start that! You can't blame me
for blasted death duties!

The house. The estate. Everything.

It will all come
to Lucian in the end.

Well, should he ever want to go
back. Well, whose fault is that?

Look, your father...
you're all he's got.

He only wants you to be happy.

He doesn't begrudge you a brass
farthing you spend on this place.

I can't keep going to him
cap in hand!

That is utter foolishness!
He has money coming out of his ears!

What's foolish about not wanting
to be indebted to someone?

You already are indebted!

He's paid for every cushion and
candlestick in this infernal place!

And I have promised to pay him back.

He's not expecting
to see a penny of it.

Which is why I'm determined
that he will.

Swallow your damn pride, Bella.

Namaste.
I'm sorry?

Namaste. Did I say it wrong?

No. No, please. Not at all.

It's just the first word I've heard
spoken in Hindi in quite a time.

Well, it's the first and the last.
That's all he taught me.

And who is he? If I might enquire.
The Maharaja of Jaipur's brother.

You've been to Jaipur?
Hell, no. He came to see my show.

In America?
In Paris!

I haven't been home since the war.
Neither have I.

And how do you find Italy?

You mean, how does Italy find me?

Italy would like to arrest me
on the spot.

They haven't got around
to passing a law against me.

I have a feeling they soon might.
It was him who taught me.

In case you're wondering.
The Maharaja's brother?

He offered me a pearl
as big as a duck egg.

I wasn't able to oblige him.

So he had to settle for giving me
yoga lessons instead.

That is very honourable of you.

You wanna join me, honey?

Er, it's not really my thing.
Ah, no. You'll catch on soon enough.

Let's go.

Ah, .
Shoes. Take your shoes off.

Bring your arms above your head
and just lean back a little.

What's this, then, callisthenics?

It's yoga, you fool.

Room for a couple of little ones?
The more, the merrier!

Rose?
Rose! Where are you?

I'd better not.

I'll be here every morning
if you change your mind.

Here we are. The sooner we can
get this place ready, the better.

And one less thing to worry about.
Oh.

Are the Drummond-Wards leaving?
Oh, goodness, no.

but they've asked to change rooms
for some reason.

I'm not quite sure why.

I've never seen a room quite
so beautiful, Mrs Ainsworth.

Oh, thank you, Constance. I do hope
the Wingfields agree with you.

Paola doesn't speak any English.
But perhaps she understands some.

You never know.

You never know.
You do speak English.

A little.

Signor Lucian...
Master Ainsworth?

He give me... lezioni.
Lessons.

Lessons.
Lessons. Si, English lessons.

I have lessons too.

Signor Lucian?
Si!

I think I'd better just go.
You know...

Yes. Of course.

You look flushed.

I've just been having a yoga lesson.

Yoga.

Yes, it's some sort
of stationary gymnastics.

Apparently, the Indians
have been at it for centuries.

Mr Sengupta has been teaching you?

Er, no, Mrs Turner, actually.

Oh, she is a woman of many talents.

Apparently so.

If I may be so bold, er,
I was thinking...

I was hoping, actually, um...
with your permission of course,

I was hoping that Rose
might wish to accompany me

for a look around town.

I thought we might
go to the beach afterwards,

have a little painting lesson.

Is this something you've discussed?
No, Mama.

You'd be more than welcome
to join us, if you wish.

I would insist upon it.

Won't it be ridiculously hot?

There's always quite
a pleasant breeze by the sea.

And there's plenty of shade.

You'll be wasting your efforts
on Rose, I'm afraid.

She's devoid of artistic talent.

You always say I should take every
opportunity to improve myself, Mama.

Very well.

Father?

You realise this nonsense will have
to stop sooner or later, don't you?

Nonsense?

This. It isn't worth anything,
any of it.

I have it on good authority.

Well, it's worth something to me.

Um, I thought I might take
Miss Drummond-Ward

for a painting lesson.
At the beach.

Oh?

I thought you'd be pleased.

Well, it's something, I suppose.

Well, don't keep the lady waiting!

What are you putting
in the sandwiches, Betty?

La lingu... La...
Oh, hang on a minute.

Mrs Ainsworth wrote it down for me.
La "ling-ewer"...

Lingua.
Thank you.

Hmm.
And what's that when it's at home?

Veal tongue. It's a local delicacy.

Are you excited? About the beach.
I'm only there to fetch and carry.

Oh, you might get to dip a toe in.
Eggs.

I'm sure Mrs Drummond-Ward
will keep me far too busy.

Proper little dragon, that one.
Betty!

What? She is.

The way she bullies
that poor little girl...

Thank you.

Rose is very beautiful.
Yes, well. That's as may be.

Silly little ninny.
Wouldn't say boo to a goose.

Still, I should hold me tongue.

The tongue.
No pun intended, Conny.

Ma'am.

Rose will be the boss of us all
before too long.

Rose will be?

Haven't you worked it out?

Her and master Lucian.
They're in love?

Oh! Plenty of time to talk about
love once they're married.

It's all agreed, then.

No. But it will be.
Before the summer's over.

At least, if Mr Ainsworth's
got anything to do with it.

Telephone?
No, no, no telefono, no.

Excuse me, a telefono?

It's like bloody Bombay.
Signore.

You require some assistenza?

Yes, I was hoping
to find a telephone.

Telephone. Hey, look.
We are poor Italians here.

We marvel at you English
and your inventions.

Try telling that to Marconi.

Scusi, Signore.

Please.

This way, sir.

Ah, Mussolini.
The great man himself.

The great man indeed.

I don't suppose
you'd lend him to us?

Crack some English heads together.

Please.
Perhaps not.

As long as you need.

Ah,
I see you've been pulling my leg.

I'm sorry?
Never mind. I will pay.

Absolutely not!
No, no, no. I insist.

And I insist, too.
Vincenzo Danioni at your service.

Ah. Cecil Ainsworth. At yours.

Please.

Your brother, sir.

Cecil?

'Is that you?'
It's me!

'All the way from Italy.'

'Yes, Edmund.
All the way from Italy.'

'Well, I'll be damned.'
How is the old place?

'Well, you know.'

Still creaking under the strain
a little.

And Margot?

Happiest when she's in the saddle.

Now, you got my telegram, I take it.

Right here in front of me, old boy.

'Well, I'll get
straight to the point, then.'

I wish you would.

Do you still have
Grand-papa's Rubens?

Naked wench, mirror,
west wing sitting room?

'The very same.'

'Still gathering dust with the
ancestors, the last time I looked.'

Well, then. Crate it up and
send it over. There's a good fellow.

And why exactly would
I want to do a thing like that?

Because I may know someone
who wants to buy it.

'For more than it would cost
to send?'

Much more. Enough to keep the tax
man off your back for a year or two.

'Only if it is a Rubens.

'And as you well know, it's most
likely nothing of the sort.'

We'll see about that.

'Besides which, we've only got
the old boy's word for it.'

Not for very much longer, I hope.

Will the Epson suite be ready,
darling?

Yes.
What time do the Wingfields arrive?

Oh, any time.
Oh, what's that?

Lucian.
Lady Latchmere!

Can my son tempt you
to go on his beach expedition?

Gracious, no. I can't abide sand.
Oh.

Perhaps a trip to church on Sunday
might suit us both a little better.

To church? In Italy?
I'm sorry, I assumed...

No, no. Religion
is my greatest consolation,

but only the right sort.
Forgive me.

All that smoke and popery.
Any port in a storm, I always say.

Oh, Mrs Turner.
Are you a regular churchgoer?

Nothing about me is regular, honey.

But a spot of confession
is always good for the soul. Right?

That's him. That's...
That's Pelham Wingfield.

Who's Pelham Wingfield?
One of the Suffolk Wingfields?

I haven't a clue. I only know he's
a tennis player and a terrific one.

He nearly won the Davis Cup
last year. Hmm.

I'll have to take
your word for that.

Rose, is that what you're wearing?
Well, I thought so.

I'm sure we can wait five minutes
while you go and change.

Please. How was your journey?
Very pleasant.

Hot, I imagine. And long.
And sticky.

Yes. Oh, Mrs Wingfield, your key.
Thank you.

If I might say, it's such
a pleasure to have a tennis champion

staying in the house.
My son's an absolute fanatic.

It's my pleasure, really.
Oh, well...

He is from the north of Italy.
Will you excuse me one minute?

Yes. Oh, do you mind if I...
Oh, yes, of course.

The winning racket. I'm sorry.
Thank you so much.

Well...

Which part of the country exactly?
Oh, listen.

It's really not important
where he's coming from,

but where he's going.
Oh, Cecil?

Oh. Here you are, darling.
This is Signor Danioni.

It is my honour, Signora Ainsworth.

Forgive me. Could I borrow
my husband for a moment?

Sure. Please.

What is he doing here?
What?

Well,
he's really been most obliging.

I thought the least we could do

was offer him some hospitality
in return. Hospitality?

You know, tea. A sandwich or two.
A bit of Betty's cake.

Let him think
he's an Englishman for an afternoon.

Has he asked you for anything?

No, not a sausage.
Why are you whispering?

Darling, he let me telephone home
entirely free of charge.

You do know that he's a...
What?

He's a Fascist, Cecil.

Well, better them
than the damned reds.

But we agreed that we'd stay out
of local politics.

You never know,
he might prove useful.

Lady Latchmere
might come across him.

Lady Latchmere

They probably have more in common
than you think.

Am I forgiven now?
Oh, yes. Yes, of course.

Bellakins.
Yes?

Would you ask Albani
if he wants to join us?

He might jolly the conversation
a little bit. Yes.

Do forgive me.

Rose. Mrs Drummond-Ward.

Gelato per la bambina...

Will you try a gelato,
Mrs Drummond-Ward?

I shan't.

See, I'm just sort of
working light to dark.

Then you end up with something
that looks sort of delicate.

I see.
See, that's lovely.

Thank you.

What are they doing?

They're diving for scallops.
Or sea urchins maybe.

Is that Billy?
Billy?

I was wondering
what he was doing this afternoon.

Lucian, are you going
to take me swimming?

Sorry, Lottie, I'm a bit busy.

Oh.

How about a paddle instead?
Yes!

Shall we?
Come on, let's go in the water.

We'll just dip our feet in.

There's a little fish.
Oh!

Oh, no.
No, di nostra vita.

Oh, vita.
It means "life".

Oh, darling.
Oh, no, please. Please, no need.

Do sit down.
Are you joining us?

Sadly, no. I was just coming to see

that you were being
well looked after.

As always. Danioni has been
in raptures over the scones.

Oh, yeah!

A fat rascal, I believe.

How apt!
Exquisite.

Really, really, really... delicious.

I'm so glad.

Well, Mr Danioni thinks
we could make a bundle.

Serving afternoon tea to the locals.
I have to agree with him.

Unfortunately,
Betty is rather overstretched

with all of our guests,

but I shall be sure
to pass on the compliments.

Thank you so much.

Oh.
Don't know what all that was about.

Anyway, where were we?

May I borrow those?

Of course.
Thank you.

God's teeth.

Oh, it's not much to look at.
Not yet, at least.

I'd die happy if I could do
anything half as well as that.

You're welcome to have a go,
if you want.

Come on, put that down.

Take that. Have a scribble.

Uncle Lucian, look what Rose found!

Did she? Must be worth a fortune,
Lots.

Are you ready to resume?
My word!

Oh, well...
What is it?

Oh. Do you think she needs rescuing?

Heavens, no. She'll be
selling tickets in a minute.

Two lemonades.
One for me, one for you.

I must say, Signor Danioni,
that I'll think about it.

You're confident we can drum up
this custom by next week?

Absolutely!
I will make that possible.

Where are these guests going to be
coming from, exactly?

Well, people from the council...
The council?

Yeah.
Right.

What about the local aristocracy,
or something like that?

Yeah, I will take care of that.

You don't much care for him.
Ah. Was it that obvious?

No. Your manners were impeccable.

Italy would be heaven if it weren't
so full of petty bureaucrats.

You would be wise to tolerate him.
Because of his politics?

Because men like Danioni
enjoy nothing better than making

a perfect nuisance of themselves.
Yes, I'm learning that.

So, how about next Thursday?

Thursday?

For our first tea party. Danioni's
promised to drum up some custom.

Oh, Cecil.
That is presumptuous of you.

Oh, nonsense. Nonsense.
What do you think, Carlo?

The whole town
will beat a path to your door.

We Italians pretend to despise
the perfidious English.

But we aspire to be just like you.
Just as I thought.

Care to join me for a drink?
Yes, sure. Maybe in a little while.

Good, good.
Have I said the wrong thing?

No, no, no. It's a lovely idea.

I would be delighted to assist you
with your little project.

Oh, well,
your help is always most welcome.

Perhaps Mrs Mays-Smith and I
might plan the menu between us.

Oh, that's a marvellous idea.
Yes, she would enjoy that.

A perfect union of Italian gusto
and English refinement.

Perfect. Would you excuse me?

It's gone a bit strange here,
but you really made an effort.

It's wonderful.
The perspective is spot on.

Well, then, carry on.
You'll be an expert in no time.

Oh, bother it!
Rose, I'm so sorry.

It's ruined!
What is it?

Paint, Mama.
Lucian, it won't come out.

I told you to be careful.

No, it was my fault,
Mrs Drummond-Ward.

Her blouse brushed my palette.
It won't come out.

No, it'll come out, I promise.
We just need to dab at it...

No, Lucian...
Just let me dab at it.

No, please.
It will.

Just let me have a look...
Lucian, please.

It's on your undershirt as well.
Oh, Lucian. No! I feel faint.

We had best go back.
Of course.

Immediately.

What a bit of fuss,
over a bit of paint.

She seemed very upset.

Well,
who wears a silk dress to the beach?

She just wanted to look her best.

I shall be in the doghouse.
I'm sure Rose will forgive you.

From my father, I mean.
Oh.

Well, it'll be quicker to walk
than wait.

I'm sorry to ask,
but can you manage?

I don't mind.

So, I take it
it wasn't a great success, darling.

You could say that.

Well, we shall just have to get
Paola to work her magic.

What are you suggesting?

Only that she could clean the dress.

Has Father said anything?
Not to me.

He's been drinking with
Count Albani.

That's just my luck.

I keep telling you, please
don't worry about what he wants.

Well, try telling him that.

All that matters
is whether you and Rose

think you could be happy together.

Do you think there's a chance?

Well, it's rather difficult to make
any kind of impression at all

with her mother hanging over us
like some awful gooseberry.

Yes. Yes, she's rather difficult
to, er... shake off, isn't she?

Oh, let me see.

You know, I find it difficult
to imagine her and Father

were ever an item at all.

Oh, they were too young
to ever be serious.

Really? They weren't engaged?

Not formally, no.
I'd rather imagined that they were.

I thought that's why Father
was so hell-bent

on getting Rose and me hitched.

I'm not sure I follow.

You know,
righting the wrongs of the past.

Him and Mrs Drummond-Ward not being
able to link the two estates

by marriage, so they thought they'd
have another go with Rose and me.

If that is his intention, he
certainly never confided it to me.

Darling, I think
you should give it time with Rose.

Oh, gosh. Look.

She has an artistic eye.

And that's something, isn't it?

Please try, darling.
Just leave it, will you?

Just... put on a good show.

Can we talk about this later,
please? Right.

How the other half live, eh?

I'd give my right ball for one
of those fancy drinks.

Sorry, may I?

Hello, my darling.

Constance...

Hello.
Hope I'm not interrupting anything.

Oh, not at all.
Lucian Ainsworth.

Pelham Wingfield.
I know.

This is my wife, Lizzie.
Hello.

I saw you play in Queens. Er, 23.

You beat some Australian.
Tom... something.

Oh, Todd Philips.
Yes, that's the one.

6-2, 6-4, 6-2, if I remember well.

Well, 6-3 in the third,
but what's a game between friends?

Well, you barely missed a ball.

And now he rarely hits one.

So what brings you to Portofino?

Well, I played in Monte Carlo
last week...

He lost in the first round.

And I'm heading to Milan
at the end of the week.

The local championships
start the Monday after.

Which means we'll be taking
the train home on Tuesday.

With any luck.

Er, it's a wonderful spot.
Isn't it?

Might I interest you
in a nightcap later?

Oh, er...
"You" singular.

Not "you" plural, honey.

Well, if it's all the same to you,
I think I'll pass.

Yeah. Perhaps tomorrow?

Yes, perhaps.

Ah, well. It can wait.

What?
Hmm?

What can wait?

Oh, the story
of Grand-papa's Rubens.

Sorry, your grandfather
owns a Rubens?

Owned, not owns.

He kicked the bucket right about
the time Her Majesty passed away.

Uh-huh. And where is it now?

Still hanging out back home,
I imagine.

And you're... sure it's a Rubens?

Well, I rather thought
you might tell me.

Mm-hm.

Yeah.

You look beautiful.
What do you want me to tell you?

Melissa, have you found her?
Melissa, bring her here now.

I can't bear it, Melissa.
I'm packing my bag.

Is everything all right?
My aunt is most unhappy.

Oh! Let's see
if we can resolve the issue.

Completely inedible.

I've almost chipped a tooth.
Your Ladyship, I'm terribly sorry.

I shall get a fresh tray
brought up for you straight away.

Melissa.
Yes?

I'd like you to check.
Um...

Ow!

Rough.
Did I hurt you?

Yes, I think I might need another.
Yes, Aunt.

Oh, morning, darling.
Morning. Er, is there a problem?

Why do you ask?

Because there doesn't appear to be
any breakfast.

Let me talk to Betty.

What on earth is going on?

Oh, Mrs Ainsworth...

I can't get any sense out of her!

Betty, remember when you took the
job. We said only your best will do.

It's not her fault.
Hold your tongue!

She can't make breakfast
from thin air.

What do you mean, thin air?
There's no food, Mrs Ainsworth.

See for yourself,
nothing's delivered.

No bread, no butter,
no milk, no eggs.

The cupboard's bare, ma'am.

Oh, Billy.
Oh, you little beauty.

The best I could do, ma'am.

Nobody would sell me owt,
Mrs Ainsworth.

I had to beg what I could.
There must be some misunderstanding.

Begging your pardon, ma'am.
But, no, I don't think so.

They shut the door in my face.

Don't worry, I shan't make a scene.

Not before Mass, anyway.

Ah-ha!
Ah!

You didn't fancy church,
I take it.

Oh, no. No, no.
I only kneel at the altar of Mammon.

I wondered if you'd... Well, if
you'd like to join me for a spin.

Why not?

Excellent.

I am so sorry
that I didn't give you more notice

that we were planning to come here
today. I'm happy being spontaneous.

Didn't think church
would be your thing.

My thing?

Well, because Lucian
has become so anti all of this.

He says God died in the trenches.

A lot of people we served with
feel the same.

You were at the front?
Indian Medical Service.

And do you think... God failed to
come back from the war, Mr Sengupta?

England's God maybe. Not mine.

Hello.

If the Eye-Ties had
had some kit like this in the war,

they might have fared
a little better.

You served?

No. Not the last time.

My fighting days
ended out in Africa,

at the end of the last century.
Uh-huh.

You?
No.

No.
About this painting...

Mm-hm.
I, er...

I tore this
out of one of Lucian's art books.

Well, that's not Rubens.

I know, but the idea's
broadly the same.

Venus With A Mirror.
That's the girl.

She's quite a common theme
in Renaissance art.

If you say so.
So, your Rubens, it isn't titled?

No. And not signed either,
unfortunately.

Well, that's not uncommon
for the period.

Which is, presumably,
where people like you come in.

Well, there's no way of knowing

without getting my guy
to take a look at it.

No, of course. Of course.
I'm having it sent over as we speak.

You really are serious about this.

I'm always serious
when it comes to making money.

Aren't you?

Well, if it's not
what you say it is, then...

it's a whole lot of trouble
to go to. For both of us.

Don't worry, old boy.

I'm sure we can find a way
to make it worth our while.

Lady Caroline!

Well, I never.
Maybe she didn't see you.

Or didn't choose to.

What's funny, darling?
I think I've just been snubbed.

Oh.
By Lady Caroline Haig.

Should I know who that is?
The Earl of Harborne's daughter.

They're staying at the big villa
in the hills.

We called upon them
when they arrived.

Yes.
I hope it is not my account.

Oh, no. I'm sure there's a perfectly
innocent explanation.

Buongiorno.

Did I miss something?

We were just talking about
the Haigs.

Apparently you know Lady Caroline.
Oh, yes.

I was at Oxford with her uncle.
Will you excuse me one moment?

Signore... Una parola per favore.

Mm-hm.

I take it I have you to thank for
this morning's wonderful surprise.

Sorry,
I don't understand what you mean.

I think you do.
You said yourself,

nothing occurs in this town
without you knowing about it.

Oh, I see.
Well, perhaps I said that, yeah.

And perhaps we could find a way
to resolve this difficulty.

I simply cannot run the hotel

without the town's supplies
or its goodwill.

My wife.
Ah.

Does your wife know
that you are blackmailing me?

Please, such an ugly word!

And then we do not believe
in blackmail in Italy, Signora.

Oh, I see. What do you believe in?

Furbizia. You know, being shrewd.
Oh.

It is what puts food on our table
and buys dresses for our wives.

Pretty dresses. Zaffiro?

Yes. Sapphires.

Yeah, zaffiro.
My wife, she likes very much.

Don't get too close, Conny.
They'll give you a nasty little nip.

I think they're dead, anyway.

Glad to see you're recovered, Betty.

Oh, thank you, Mrs Ainsworth.
I'm feeling much more myself.

Gosh, someone's been busy.
It's Billy, ma'am.

Did he catch them all by himself?
Oh, no, Mrs Ainsworth.

There's some lads he knows
down by the harbour,

they all help each other out.
Please do thank him for me.

This will make
the most wonderful dinner.

I'll pass it on, Mrs Ainsworth.

Oh, and normal deliveries
shall resume tomorrow.

Very relieved to hear it, ma'am.

Gosh, he is rather an ugly fellow,
isn't he?

: We were just saying
the same thing, ma'am.

It's the spit of my Uncle Albert.

Well, let's just hope that they
taste better than they look.

I'm just wracking my brain, ma'am,

trying to think what to do with him.
Paola...

Ah, si. Then we shall bill it
as "A Taste Of Italy."

Yes.

See you later.
Ma'am.

Well, then, Paola.
So, what you doing there, then?

Ah! Gorgeous.

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.

Oh, no, I don't think so.
No, thank you.

Mmm.
Oh.

Is that alive?
No, it's not. Have a taste.

Well, I suppose, when in Italy...

Mmm!

Actually, not too bad.
Perfectly edible.

Well done.

Right, then, I'm away to me bed.

Buona notte, Elisabetta.

You did us proud tonight, Paola.

Do you understand?

Oh! Oh, bless you.

Night-night.

You frightened me.

Basta! Get off.

Dai, ci facciamo un giro insieme...
Che giro? Ma voi siete.

Ma lasciatemi stare.
Guardate questi tre imbecilli!

Filthy Fascist scum!

'My dearest Ma,
I have so much to tell you.

'I served lunch on the beach today
and got my first look at the town.

'It's straight out of
a picture postcard.

'Italy really is as different
from the North country

'as chalk and cheese.
The sun seems twice as large here

'and the sea is like a warm bath.

'There are lemons
growing everywhere I look.

'It's difficult to describe
the effect it all has on you,

'but already
I feel different somehow,

'like I can breathe
a little more easily.

'Everyone has been so kind
and patient with me,

'particularly Mrs Ainsworth.

'Betty is just as you said she would
be, warm-hearted and cheerful,

'despite the losses
she has suffered.

'Billy is a comfort to her,
of course, though also a worry.

'They are good people
and already dearer to me

'than I would have thought possible

'after so short a time
in their company.'

'Dearest Henry,
I have so much to tell you.'

Who shall I confide in now?

Cecil? Is that you?

Billy?!
I'm so sorry.

I didn't know what else to do,
please don't be angry...

What on earth?!
He's hurt.

I-I didn't know
where else to take him.

It's the Fascists, ma'am.
They've beaten him senseless.

Oh, my goodness! Billy.

Oh, Billy, he needs help.
Lift his head.

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