All language subtitles for jeeves.and.wooster.s04e03.720p.bluray.x264-ingot

♪ Have you seen the well-to-do

♪ Up on Lennox Avenue

♪ On that famous thoroughfare

♪ With their noses in the air

♪ High hats and coloured collars

♪ White spats and 15 dollars

♪ Spending every dime

♪ For a wonderful time

♪ if you're blue and you don't know

♪ Where to go... to...

♪ if you're blue and you...

♪ Don't know where...

♪ if you're blue
and you don't know where to go to ♪

This Irving Berlin seems to have
come a bit of a cropper here.

- Sir?
- Too many words, not enough notes.

If you'll pardon me for saying,

it seems a straightforward
syncopated five-four time signature.

If you accent the words "if",
"where" and "fashion",

the correct rhythmic pattern
would emerge.

"If", "where" and "fashion". Right.

♪ If you're blue
and you don't know where to go to

♪ Why don't you go where fashion sits

♪ Puttin' on the Ritz ♪

More or less gets away with it.

What about "Spangled gowns
upon a beauty of hand-me-downs

"On clown and cutie, all misfits

"Puttin' on the Ritz"?

Just as well he chose the Ritz.

Imagine if he'd written about
putting on the Regency.

- What rhymes with Regency?
- Er... "With due expediency", sir?

♪ With due expediency

♪ Putting on the Regency ♪

- Doesn't really work, Jeeves.
- Very true, sir.

I wonder if I might have a word.

What? All right, what is it?

I received a letter from my Uncle Charlie
this morning.

He's getting married and wonders
if I'll be in England in September.

Most unlikely. I have no intention
of returning in the near future.

If at all. Think of the advantages
of this wonderful country.

- Very good.
- Aunt Agatha isn't here.

Roderick Spode, Madeline Basset
and Honoria Glossop don't live here.

As you say, sir.

Send your uncle
the customary fish slice.

- Very good, sir.
- In fact, send him one from me.

Thank you, sir.
Will you be in for luncheon, sir?

No, I'm going to look in
at the Pumpkin Club.

Very good, sir.

- Bingo Little, as I live and breathe!
- Bertie Wooster!

- In New York!
- I'm with my uncle.

- How is the old chap?
- He's come for treatment.

- Oh, I'm sorry.
- Having lunch?

- Just on my way up.
- No, I'll take you to a place I know.

- Best food in town.
- Lead on, old fruit.

- You'll have what you always have?
- Of course.

And my friend will have hamburger
and French fries.

We'll both have coffee to drink.

One cheese omelette with fries.

One hamburger with fries.
And two coffees.

Strange, English girl working here.

- What do you think, Bertie?
- Oh, Bingo, you're not in love again?

Of course I am. Wouldn't you be?

No, I wouldn't. Can't you take
a day off? Tell me about your uncle.

- What about him?
- You said he was ill.

Not really.
He's in the Glossop Clinic.

Not my chum Sir Roderick Glossop,
the loony doctor?

Yes. Uncle Mortimer's not loony.
He just eats too much.

His doctor told him to lose weight
and shoved him off to Glossop.

When Glossop moved here,
Uncle Mortimer came too.

- How long's he been in the clinic?
- In all, oh... Just over a year.

Must have lost a lot of weight.

Not an ounce.
Isn't she adorable, Bertie?

Good morning, sir. A fine morning.

Some scattering of cumulus and
a light breeze from the southeast.

You'll pardon me mentioning it, sir,
but I discovered this on our hat rack.

I assume a tradesman left it.

We're not disagreeing about that hat,
are we?

I'm not in a position to say, sir.

This is known among the fashionable
as a 42nd Street skimmer, Jeeves.

Gentlemen do not wear straw hats
in the metropolis, sir.

Jeeves, I am not going to discuss it
any further.

If you say so, sir.

- Mr Little is here to see you, sir.
- Oh, Lord.

Stand by for gale force winds
from the direction of Art's Diner.

- Sir?
- Mr Little is in love again.

The 53rd time. This time
with a waitress from Art's Diner and Grill.

"Where every sandwich
is a work of art."

Mr Little is a warm-hearted gentleman,
sir.

Warm-hearted?
He has to wear asbestos vests.

I want you to do a bit of diplomatic
business with my uncle.

He always disapproves
of anyone I want to marry.

Every time you fall in love,
you're left in the lurch.

Leave tackling your uncle
till it's fixed and settled.

It is fixed and settled!
She accepted me last night.

- You only met a week ago.
- Why do you always...

- Bertie!
- What? What?

Do you remember
that subtle scheme I worked out,

telling him you were whatshername,
the writer?

- Wasn't that my idea, Jeeves?
- Perhaps so, sir.

What do you mean?

Perhaps I misremember but I thought
I was to some degree responsible.

Nonsense!
I remember it like yesterday. I said -

Never mind that.
The point is it was a corker!

What I say is,
Rosie M Banks forward once more.

Out of the question.
I will not go through that again.

Pretending I was Rosie M Banks
and I'd written those novels!

- Not for me?
- Not for you or a dozen like you.

I never thought to hear those words
from Bertie Wooster!

Well, you've heard them now.
Paste them into your hat.

Our very last copy, sir.

- This is a rotten idea, Bingo.
- Here's her latest.

Sign it, "To Lord Bittlesham, Rosie
M Banks, with all good wishes."

- I haven't read it.
- You don't have to.

They're all the same.
Innocent but doughty young...

mill girl, waitress, shop girl,

falls for poor but handsome young...

architect,
motor mechanic, mining engineer.

Innocent-but-doughty is blackmailed
into compromising situation

by even more handsome
but dastardly mill owner's son.

She's rescued by poor-but-handsome,

who finds he's the rightful heir
to the Duke of Dorset

and they live happily ever after.

When Uncle Mortimer reads all that,
he'll be a gone swan.

May I help you?

I'd like to see Lord Bittlesham, please.

Up the stairs, suite four.

Ensure you have a sweet course
with each meal.

At least three helpings
at each sitting are essential.

- Yes? It's Bertie Wooster!
- What ho, Sir Roderick.

- I'm here to see Lord Bittlesham.
- You know him? Come in.

- Bertie Wooster is here to see you.
- What a wonderful surprise!

Well, heard you were laid up.

Why don't you stay and have lunch
with us, Bertie?

Take the opportunity if you can.

Sir Roderick has a most sublime chef.

- Oh, well, thanks.
- I'll see you later.

Mr Wooster, I wish
to congratulate you, I wish to thank you.

You go from strength to strength.

I have read All For Love,
I have read Only A Factory Girl.

I know Madcap Murder by heart,
but this...

This is your bravest and your best.
It tears the heartstrings.

Well, I've brought you one of those.

Ah! Thank you.

Oh, inscribed! How kind.

Mr Wooster,
I'm a better man for having read this.

- Really?
- A better, sweeter, deeper man.

Ah, my treatment!
A harsh regime indeed, Mr Wooster.

- Er... A better man, you say?
- Yes, infinitely.

I'm full of charity and sweetness
towards my fellow man.

- Oh! lncluding young Bingo?
- My nephew Richard?

Well, yes. Even towards Richard, yes.

Oh, stout fellow! Or rather, good
egg. I want to talk to you about him.

Didn't I tell you the chef is a master?

- He wants to get married.
- I see no reason why not.

- Oh, splendid!
- If it doesn't affect his cooking.

- No, Bingo does.
- Richard wants to get married?

I'm not altogether sure that I approve
of that. Who is the lady?

Well...
As a matter of fact, she's a waitress.

This is remarkable!
This is most cheering!

I had not given the boy credit
for such tenacity of purpose.

When I first
made your acquaintance last year,

Richard was desirous of marrying
this waitress.

Yes, yes, it is good, isn't it?

Course, it's not exactly the same
waitress. Still, it's a waitress.

I did a lot of work with heavy drinkers
for my Ph.D.

One thing I found they all had in
common

was that as children
they'd been deprived of alcohol.

- My point exactly.
- That's the basis of his treatment.

Mr Bertram Wooster to see you, sir.

- What ho, what ho, what ho!
- Bertie Wooster! Good Lord.

Oh. What ho, Honoria.

- Mrs Snap.
- We met outside.

And this is Doctor Blair Eggleston.

Oh, how do you do?

Bertie and I were engaged once,
weren't we, Bertie?

- Well...
- Bertie's an absolute fool.

- Just let me slip through his fingers.
- Silly me.

Bertie can show you
around New York.

- Yes, I say, that would be super!
- Well...

- How did you find Lord Bittlesham?
- To tell you the absolute truth,

I couldn't work it out.
I thought he was here to lose weight.

He hoovered in the scoff like
a team of horses after a hard day.

- I know nothing of medical matters.
- Of course not.

The Glossop Method
is based on being given an excess

of whatever he most desires.

It may be alcohol or the
companionship of the opposite sex.

Or as in Lord Bittlesham's case, food.

He will eventually revolt
at the sheer immoderation of it,

- and voluntarily deny himself.
- Get it out of your system.

- Precisely.
- Is it successful?

It's theoretically impeccable, Bertie,
and extremely popular.

Yes, yes, I should think it would be.

The medical profession in England
are a cartel

of backward-looking dinosaurs.

You mustn't upset yourself, Daddy.

No, no. Quite.

- Shall we go to lunch?
- I haven't got time for lunch, Roderick.

- You can.
- No!

I've got the linen to check.
We can't trust these girls to do it.

I tell you, Jeeves, Roderick
Glossop has something on his mind.

One felt his thoughts were far away
and his thoughts were stinkers.

It's possible that it is Sir Roderick's
situation with regard to Mrs Snap

that is causing him chagrin, sir.

- I didn't know there was a situation.
- Oh, indeed, sir.

Ever since Lady Glossop eloped with
the conductor on the 73 omnibus,

Sir Roderick has keenly missed
the comforts of connubiality

and has been eager to remarry.

- He wants to marry Myrtle Snap?
- Precisely so, sir.

But she refuses to consider
such a venture

while Sir Roderick's
daughter remains unmarried.

In a colourful turn of phrase,

she stated that certain specific,

and scarcely to be anticipated,
meteorological conditions

would have to take place
in the infernal regions

before she would share a home
with Miss Honoria.

Well, amen to that. How do you know
so much about the Glossops?

The butler, Dobson,
is an old acquaintance, sir.

Dobson has exceptionally keen hearing.

- Listens at keyholes, you mean?
- Precisely so, sir.

He's gathering material for his memoirs.
Will that be all, sir?

- Yes, that'll be all, Jeeves. Good night.
- Good night, sir.

What ho, Bingo!

- How did it go with Uncle Mortimer?
- Not bad. He's thinking it over.

- Thinking it over?
- If I was a bookie I'd offer 100-8 against.

100-8? That's no blasted good!

- I might have known you'd muck it up.
- I like that!

Have you been to see him?
He might have softened up by now.

No, I'll go tomorrow.

I'm playing tennis
with Blair Eggleston this afternoon.

The doctor? You know him?

Of course. I wouldn't play tennis with
him otherwise!

He spends the game talking about
his miserable love life.

- What's wrong with it?
- He loves Honoria Glossop.

- He can't tell her.
- But he's a frightful hearty.

A doctor and good-looking
and all that.

I know!
You'd think he'd be a menace to the sex

and have to be on kept on a leash.

But put him alone in a room
with a woman

and he comes over all faint
and asks for water.

A lesson to us all.
Well, not you, as it happens.

- Bingo!
- What?

I mean inspiration has struck.

- About my uncle?
- Well, not in this instance, no.

Honoria has been making tallyhos in my
direction. I need her off the scent.

I would also be doing my old chum
Roderick a good turn.

- You're see Eggleston today?
- Yes.

Drop it into the conversation that he
better heat up his feet and grab Honoria

because you know someone else is
making a heavy play in her direction.

And may have the deal set up
at any moment.

- All right but who is it?
- Bertram, Bingo.

Jeeves thinks he's so clever
about affairs of the heart.

I sometimes wonder
if he thinks I'm an idiot.

He's also getting a bit above himself
in headgear matters.

No, you leave it to Bertram.

Bingo!
You seen that Eggleston fellow?

- Yes. He's consumed with jealousy.
- Good.

I told him what fun
you and Honoria were having.

I know a ground tooth when I hear one.

People on the next court
were complaining.

Excellent. By the way,
not a word to Jeeves if you see him.

He thinks he's the only one
who can sort out difficulties.

I want to present him
with a fait accompli. Pip pip!

Bertie, I have something
to tell you.

- You're on for tonight?
- To tell the truth, Bertie, I...

A-ha! Blair Eggleston.

Aah! Mmm-mmm...

- Bertie!
- Toodle-pip, Honoria.

Jeeves.

- Good afternoon, sir.
- It is. it certainly is.

Let me tell you of a coup
in the field of human relations such as...

Answer that, will you?

- I'm not at home to anybody.
- Very good. Mr Wooster's residence.

No, Miss Glossop.
I really couldn't say, Miss Glossop.

No, miss.

Very good, miss. lndeed, miss?

Congratulations, Miss Glossop.
I hope you will be very happy.

Goodbye.

- Miss Glossop, Jeeves?
- Indeed, sir.

A most mysterious telephone call.

Tell me what she said
and I shall reveal all.

She asked me to tell you

that Doctor Eggleston
proposed to her last evening.

Last evening?

And she had accepted
but before she could tell you so,

something - she did not say what

but said that you would know -
happened.

Doctor Eggleston witnessed this and
subsequently broke the engagement.

Oh, no!

She asked me to inform you
that she will now marry you.

What?

She says that while you may not be
the man of her dreams,

she feels that your patient love
should be rewarded.

Oh... Oh no!

Oh, Jeeves!

But we were interrupted sir. There was
something you wished to tell me?

Could I do something for you, sir?

No, that's all right, thank you, Jeeves.
You carry on.

Erm...

A problem has arisen
in the life of a friend of mine,

who shall be nameless, and I want -

- Or rather, he wants your advice.
- Certainly, sir.

I must begin by saying this is
one of those delicate problems

where all the other personnel
must remain nameless as well.

Would you prefer
to term the protagonists A and B, sir?

Yes. Or North and South.

A and B is more customary, sir.

You know best, Jeeves. Very well.

Now then, A is male and B female.

- Follow me so far?
- You have been lucidity itself, sir.

Right, well, owing to a erm...

What's that "something of
circumstances" people talk about?

Er... Cats come into it, I remember.

- Is concatenation the word?
- Yes.

Owing to a concatenation
of circumstances,

B has got it into her nut
that A is in love with her but he isn't.

Now then, until recently,
B was engaged to...

Should we call him C, sir?

Yes, well, Caesar is as good a name
as any, I suppose.

As I said, B was engaged to Caesar
and A hadn't got a care in the world.

Now there's a rift within the loot,
the fixture's been scratched,

and B is talking freely about
teaming up with A.

What I want you to bend your brain
around, Jeeves,

is the problem of how Caesar
can oil out of it.

I think, sir, that you mean A.

Do I? Wait a minute.

Yes, that's right.
Yes, how A can oil out of it.

I don't want you thinking this is simple.

A is what is known as a chevalier
and this hampers him.

If B says to him, "A, I am yours,"

he can't reply,
"That's what you think."

He has his code. And his code rules
that he must accept the situation.

Although, frankly,
he'd rather be dead in a ditch.

There you are. The facts are before you.
Anything stirring?

Yes, sir.

Good heavens, Jeeves!
That is the deluxe express service.

Thank you, sir.

Obviously B's matrimonial plans
would be rendered null and void

if A were to inform her that his
affections were engaged elsewhere.

- But they aren't.
- It would only be necessary, sir,

to convey the impression
that that were the case.

I see what you mean! Yes.

If I were...

Or rather if A were to produce a female

and have her assert
that she was betrothed to me...

Um... Or... l should say betrothed to him,

- then the peril would be averted.
- Precisely, sir.

Yes.

- Bingo, old can of fruit!
- What ho, Bertie.

- I have a boon to crave.
- A what?

That girl in the diner. You've got to know
her a bit. You're friends?

- As a matter of fact...
- I need to borrow her for an hour.

- Steady on!
- All strictly above board, I assure you.

I need her to pretend
she's engaged to me.

No, no, no, no, no.

Oh, come on, I'm in a desperate
situation.

So is she. We got married yesterday.

Two eggs, sunny side up.

As a matter of fact,
we were going to ask you a favour.

We want you to break the news
to Lord Bittlesham.

I can't go there.
Eggleston might be there.

No. We played tennis yesterday and
he said he'll never see Honoria again.

But you got married yesterday.

Well, yes, but after tennis.

Anyway,
Eggleston's rather keen to see you.

I absolutely refuse
to give him your address, though.

Well, thank you, Bingo.

Of course, Richard doesn't know
how long he'll be able to resist

if Eggleston keeps asking.

Ah, Mr Wooster! There you are.

- Tell me, what can I do for you?
- Er... Well...

The fact is, I'm here in the capacity
of an ambassador at the moment.

- Representing young Bingo.
- Bingo?

I had hoped
for a literary conversation.

Ah, well, the way I see it,

young Bingo's predicament, that is,
is that...

it's dashed difficult to prevail against
a pure and all-consuming... love.

Yes, yes, yes. We discussed that
at our last meeting.

Ah, but there have been
developments since.

The fact is that yesterday afternoon,
young Bingo...

jumped off the dock.

Good heavens!
Why? Where? Which dock?

No. I mean he got married.

- Married?
- Hitched. Absolutely.

I hope you're not ratty about it, what.
Young blood and so on.

Two loving hearts and all that.

I'm greatly disturbed by your news.

I have been defied! Yes, defied!

Ah, yes, but er...

But who are you to pit yourself
against the decrees of fate?

This love affair was fated
since time began.

You are as sagacious in life
as you are in your books.

- Well, you know how it is.
- Mr Wooster, you have won me over.

Bring the young people to see me.

Who am I, as you say, to pit
myself against the decrees of fate?

Well, quite.

- Bertie, this is good news.
- Absolutely.

- Bingo will be thoroughly chuffed.
- Bingo?

- Your engagement to Honoria.
- Oh! Er... Rather!

Might make it a double wedding.
Mrs Snap has consented to be my wife.

Congratulations and all that!

Hello, boys! Having a good time?

Dear boys. Some of our drinkers,
you know. Showing great progress.

- Here's Honoria.
- What ho, Bertie!

- What ho, Honoria.
- Just been to get the wedding dress!

Oh. Right. Very good.

Lot of dashed nonsense, really.

Got to get down to brass tacks about
this. Decide on a date.

I'll come for tea this afternoon
and we'll get it settled.

It's ghastly!
Sends a shiver down my spine.

- She's bought a wedding dress.
- Very disturbing, sir.

It was the way she said it,
just cold-bloodedly.

Ladies are often
almost wilfully unaware

of our more sensitive nature
in these matters.

Exactly. There might have been
children present.

- It seems unlikely.
- Or people of a nervous disposition.

It wasn't just the dress.
There was also wild talk of setting a date.

You know how people say your past life
flashes in front of your eyes?

- Yes, sir.
- It's absolutely true. it happens.

I was remembering when Barmy got
his foot caught in that cake stand.

And when Tuppy Glossop ran out of
money and had to raffle his trousers

to buy another bottle of Bollinger.

Happy days indeed, sir.

A thought has occurred to me, sir,

in reference to your need for a lady
to pose as your fiancee.

Yes, Jeeves?

A theatrical agent might well be in
a position to find a resting artiste

who would take part in an innocent
deception for a moderate fee.

Jeeves, that is brilliant!
Why didn't I think of that?

I couldn't say, sir.

Yeah?

- Something I can do for you, buddy?
- Jas Waterbury?

That's me. You looking for a job?

- No, I'm looking for a girl.
- Oh, aren't we all, amigo?

What's your line?
You running a touring company?

No. I want a girl to pretend to be my
fiancee for the afternoon.

One of those? You've come to
the right place. I've got just the girl.

Oh, well, that's good.

Yeah, Trixie Waterbury. Made for
the part. Right up Trixie's street.

She'll cover you with burning kisses,
if that's what you want.

- Oh... l hadn't thought of that.
- Lucky you came to me, then, isn't it?

- How much does the part pay?
- Er, well, I thought about $20.

- Think again, friend.
- More, you mean?

- No, less.
- 15?

A comedian too, are you?
$30.

Or rather 40. That way you get every
ounce of zest and co-operation.

- More than I get for 30?
- Oh, much more.

- $40.
- Plus commission.

- Commission?
- Another ten, inclusive.

Strange,
her having the same name as you.

What's strange? She's my niece.

Will smoked salmon sandwiches
and teacakes be in order, sir?

Doesn't matter.
Could be pigs' trotters and turtle soup.

We won't get to the comestibles.

That'll be Trixie now.

Afternoon, Wooster.
Well, here she is!

This is Trixie!

- Pleased to meet you, I'm sure.
- You can call him Bertie.

Wouldn't... Sweetie Pie be better?

You're right.

You hear that, Wooster? When you
buy a Waterbury, you buy talent!

- Will that be all for now, sir?
- Er, yes. No!

Erm... Yes, I suppose so, Jeeves.

That your butler, is it?

Well, no, valet.

- Hear that, Trixie? Valet!
- Oh!

Nice place you got, buddy.
I bet this costs a bundle to keep up.

When are you expecting your friend?

- Any minute.
- Then we'd better dress the stage.

Discovered - you, Wooster,
sitting in that chair.

- Are you sure...
- In the chair there. Sit!

Discovered - you, Trixie,
sitting on his lap.

- What?
- For the good of the show!

You want it to carry conviction?
Then you need a sight gag.

Oh! This is nice!

This is it.

Curtain goin' up.
Passionate embrace, Trixie.

- Good luck, folks.
- I love you, Sweetie Pie.

Do you love me, Sweetie Pie?
Ooh! Aah!

What the hell is this?

- What are you doing here?
- More to the point, what are you doing?

Erm... Well...

Er... Trixie, this is Doctor Eggleston.

Eggleston, this is Trixie Waterbury,
my fiancee.

Hi!

- Your what?
- Fiancee. As in fiancee.

You cur!

Aah! Aah!

Did you call, sir?

Oh! Oh...

- Cut yourself shaving, Bertie?
- Very funny.

I'm still relying on you to speak to him
about the allowance.

- Why can't you do it?
- You know he respects you.

He doesn't respect me at all.
Oh, well, here goes.

Come in.

- What ho, Uncle Mortimer.
- Richard, my boy.

This is... Well, this is my wife.

Uncle Mortimer, Rosemary.
Rosemary, Uncle Mortimer.

- How do you do, Lord Bittlesham?
- What a charming girl.

- Good afternoon, Mr Wooster.
- What ho, what.

- Are you all right?
- Cut myself shaving.

- I know so little about you, er...
- Rosemary.

Rosemary.
I look forward to getting to know you.

I look forward to that, too.

- Oh! Have you read this?
- Yes, three times already.

Are you also an admirer
of Rosie M Banks?

I am Rosie M Banks.

Aargh! Hardly, old girl!

Rosie M Banks is my nom de plume.

It's Rosemary's joke. Her maiden
name was Rosemary Bankcroft.

And the name I use for my novels
is Rosie M Banks.

Be careful! The real
Rosie M Banks is in this room.

Well, I know she is.

It's all right, Lord Bittlesham.

Indeed that book is inscribed by her...
Er... him.

- Him? Who wrote this?
- She did. Er... He did.

Whoever wrote it had no right to do so.

- Come on, Rosie. Joke over.
- This is no joke.

- Someone's been forging my name.
- But you're a waitress.

Only whilst I was gathering material
for my new book.

This is an outrage!
In the worst possible taste.

I'm sorry that the woman
my nephew has chosen to marry

should be so lost
to ordinary common decency

as to attempt to perpetrate such
a deception.

- How dare you!
- Wait a minute. Wait a minute.

If you're Rosie M Banks,
why didn't you tell me?

I was going to but I was so touched
that you seemed to love me for myself

that I put it off until
we got back to London.

And now I have to put up with
your fat relative abusing me!

How dare you! That man so bravely
standing there deserves an apology.

What man?

This is most interesting, Mr Dobson.

I thought you might find it so,
Mr Jeeves.

Jeeves, a swift retirement
to prepared positions is in order.

I shall follow a few steps behind
if that is acceptable, sir.

I should not like to be seen
in association with that hat.

Oh, Jeeves!

There's a gentleman to see you,
Mr Wooster.

- Oh?
- A Mr Waterbury.

Bertie!

Trix and me have been talking it over

and we both feel that a simple wedding
would be best.

No need for a lot of fuss and expense.

Niagara Falls for the honeymoon.

She's always wanted
to see Niagara Falls.

I'm afraid I don't quite catch your drift.

Do I gather that Trixie is getting married?

Wait a minute. Didn't you introduce
her to your friend as your fiancee?

- That was just a ruse.
- What?

Surely you explained to her that I wanted
her to pretend we were engaged?

- What would I do that for?
- $50.

I don't remember any $50.

All I remember is the love light in your
eyes, as if it was only yesterday.

Her snuggled up in your lap,
pouring forth words of love.

You're talking through your hat,
Jas Waterbury.

- You've got your facts wrong.
- Wrong?

Break it to Miss Waterbury
wedding bells will not ring out.

You don't want to marry Trixie?

I wouldn't marry her with a ten-foot pole.

Oh, God!

This is really terrible!

What am I going to say to that poor girl?

You...
You wanna break the engagement?

After you've announced it in front
of witnesses and all? Oh, the shame!

There wasn't any blasted engagement.

I hate these breach of promise cases.
Hate them.

As if mere money
could ever make life anything but a...

a dreary desert for her after losing you.

But... 15,000 bucks may help.

- Now, look here, Mr Waterbury -
- Maybe 20 would be fairer.

There's the despair and desolation
to take be taken into account.

Despair and poppycock!

You're a hard man, Bertie.

I'll come and see you tomorrow
and get your decision.

If you still don't feel like writing
that cheque,

I'll ask my pal to do what he can
to persuade you.

He's an all-in wrestler
by the name of Porky Jupp.

He's retired now because he broke
a fella's spine, but he's in great shape.

You should see him
crack Brazil nuts with his fingers.

He'll do anything for me.

Good night, Mr Wooster. Good night.

Should I go and start packing, sir?

- Name?
- Mr and Mrs Peter Bradley.

- Anyone in pursuit, Jeeves?
- Not as far as I can see, sir?

- So far so good, eh, Jeeves?
- So far so good, sir.

- This is the one.
- It's ever so rocky.

- Rocky?
- You know. Up and down.

- Trixie, we ain't even moving yet!
- Oh!

Blair, we can start a new life away
from Wooster in England with Daddy.

I thought your father had been
run out of England.

Certainly not! Some at the BMA
doubted the Glossop Method,

but there was no official complaint.

This won't make any difference to us,
will it?

Of course not, you silly goose!

Well, well, well, here we are again,
Jeeves. Going home.

- Yes, indeed, sir.
- What did the man say about home?

If you mean the American poet
John Howard Payne, sir,

he compared it, to its advantage,
with pleasures and palaces.

He called it sweet
and said there was no place like it.

- What are you drinking, Bertie?
- Thank you, Bingo. Dry Marti-

- How did you who I was?
- That beard wouldn't convince a whelk.

Rosie's going to London to consult
lawyers about suing you.

- What? What for?
- Impersonating a sane person.

My uncle's on board, too.
He's going to be a witness.

- Why don't you tell them the truth?
- What?

That we worked the wheeze to try
to get me married to someone else?

She said one of the things
that attracted her to me

was the fact that
I'd never been in love before.

- You told her that?
- Yes.

Great Scot!

Anyway, they're both anxious
to have a word with you.

Oh my hat! They don't know
I'm on board, do they?

Not yet. Ah, here's Rosie.

Rosie.

- Who's that man with the beard?
- I don't know. Some foreigner.

He had a very funny walk.

- Lord Bittlesham's on board.
- Yes, I saw him late this afternoon.

Bingo says that Mrs Bingo
is going to sue me!

His Lordship intimated it, sir.

What am I going to do? I can't go -

- Did you say something, Jeeves?
- No, sir.

Funny, I...

There it is again.

I got it all worked out.

A pulled-ligament job
or a bone break?

I got it all worked out.

We wait until everything's quiet
then we strike.

- Good. Cool.
- It's the people next door.

- I know that voice.
- We do it my way.

That way we have no trouble
from anyone.

No trouble. Right.

- Did you find out where he is?
- Sure.

I was just discussing it with Porky.

- He's in the next cabin. Number 16.
- Next door!

- They're talking about me, Jeeves.
- Surely not, sir?

It's gonna be a pushover. Me and Porky
are going to go there tonight

and have a little word.

They're going to -

Ah! I-It's... The erm...

You drink this, sir.

- It's Waterbury.
- The theatrical agent, sir?

Waterbury is talking to Porky Jupp!

On the other side of that wall,

talking about coming and having a word.

We know what that means.

The only words Porky Jupp knows
are biff, bash and bludgeon. I'm off.

Where to, sir?

I'm not staying to have my skull
cracked like a Brazil nut.

I'm going to sleep in a lifeboat.

Don't I know you?

- Bertie!
- Glossop!

She's after me!
I just found out she's on board!

- Who is?
- Myrtle! Myrtle Snap!

I thought you were marrying her.

Come with me to my cabin
and I'll explain.

I can't do it, Bertie.

- You seemed lovey-dovey.
- Before.

We announced our marriage
and she changed.

It was only yesterday.

I know, Bertie, and yesterday afternoon,
she showed her hand.

She bought me
a dozen pairs of Argyle socks.

Are those those tartan jobs?
Rather doggy.

Perhaps so
but not with striped trousers.

Ah. Couldn't you just not wear them?

I could but Myrtle
becomes so bitter and resentful.

She also announced coffee will be
served with dinner instead of wine.

- I say!
- She'd become a tyrant, Bertie.

I had a vision of our life together,
stretching away,

me prancing about in tartan socks,
with caffeine poisoning.

- Not a pretty picture.
- But she's followed me.

I saw her earlier going into cabin 27
on the corner.

- Roderick!
- What? What?

I'm sorry but I've had an idea.

I won't go into it
but I too am being pursued.

Why don't you and I swap cabins?

Brilliant, Bertie!

Roderick!

Hello?

It's your little Smurfy Wurfy!

Little who?

Aah!

I think you have all you require, sir.

- Thank you, Jeeves.
- I'll bid you good night.

- Good night.
- Good night.

- We want to see Wooster.
- Yeah.

I regret that Mr Wooster is not at home,
gentlemen.

- Don't give me that!
- Don't give him that.

- Who are you?
- Who the hell are you?

Where's Wooster? Where's Wooster?

I'm not at liberty
to divulge that information.

Oh no? Porky, you ask him.

You mean really ask him?

- Sure. But no blood.
- No blood. Sure.

Gentlemen, I'm sure we can settle
this matter amicably.

- Sure we can.
- Very well. Very well.

- Mr Wooster...
- No, Jeeves.

Is in cabin 27.
The cabin on the corner.

I'm sorry, Sir Roderick.

Come on, Porky.

Desperate measures
seemed to be called for.

OK, Wooster! This is it!

James Waterbury!

After 15 years!

- Myrtle!
- You no-good...

- Come back here, you snake!
- I'll get you for this!

Come back here! Can you hear me?

What's going on, Porky?

- His wife caught up with him!
- His what?

- His wife!
- Oh!

We can get married in England
just as well as in America.

Yeah, I suppose so.

That's her! That's Wooster's fiancee.

- Are you sure?
- Sure I'm sure.

Right!

It's no good you making that row!

You've behaved disgracefully!

- He's married!
- Married?

He's already married!

Oh!

You won't get away from me again,
Waterbury!

- The pleasures of marriage, eh?
- Quite so, sir.

How did you know
he was married to Myrtle?

Mr Dobson. She had been searching
for him since he ran off with Trixie.

She'd have made me commit bigamy!

- And wear Argyle socks.
- Ah, Jeeves! Wooster!

Ah, yes, Lord Bittlesham.
I wanted a word, as a matter of fact.

I want more than just a word
with you, sir.

There he is!

- I want a word with you.
- Yes, it was all a mix-up.

- You deliberately deceived me.
- No, no!

You brought my reputation
into disrepute.

- Surely not.
- Bertie! I want a word with you!

A word?

You're to make an honest woman
of poor Trixie.

Oh, yes!

Jeeves, do you have anything
to suggest?

Just one thing, sir.

- Easy on the soda, Jeeves.
- Very good, sir.

Eight months without a drink
may be a Drones record.

- Congratulations, sir.
- Your jolly good health.

Thank you, sir.

Ah! Well rowed.

It's good of you to say so, sir, though
there was too much of it for my taste.

Jeeves, this is not the time
for recriminations.

- Very good, sir.
- My navigation was impeccable.

Very good, sir.

Though coming across
the Great Barrier Reef was a shock.

Do you recall
that narrow stretch of waterway

you insisted was the Serpentine, sir?

Jeeves...

it was, as I suggested at the time, sir,
the Panama Canal.

It was hardly my fault that the compass
was of unconventional design.

Again, pardon me for saying so, sir,

but most compasses do point north.

Jeeves, let's not start this tedious
argument again.

Very good, sir.

The arrow points to the sun then
you read direction with the dial thing.

- That's what the letters are for.
- If you say so, sir.

I think I shall go and have a bath.
Another one of those, please.

Very good, sir.

- The old 42nd Street skimmer.
- Quite so, sir.

If only it had a voice.
What a tale it could tell.

But you always get your way in the end.

- Give it to some deserving cause.
- I shall do my best, sir.

- Will you be dining in tonight?
- Er... Yes, why not.

- But, Jeeves...
- Sir?

Not fish, I think.

Very good, sir.