Original subtitles

Clarence?

Constance?

Pigs.

Constance!

Clarence!

Constance!

Clarence?

CONSTANCE!

I'm told Stinker Parsloe has got himself a new pig.

Pride of Matchingham. However, the Fat Pig Show cometh apace.

It would not do to be complacent. No, my dear.

Clarence! Clarence!

I shall endeavour to make this as simple as I can.

You are aware that you have nieces?

Can you name them? Of course not.

Millicent-- daughter of Lancelot.

Oh! We had a brother, Lancelot. Poor Lancelot.

He died, you know. Yes, he did.

And the care of Millicent passed to Charlotte Wisebite.

Oh! We had a sister, Charlotte, er, Wisebite.

Yes, and we still do, and she is presently staying with us, with her ward, Millicent.

Do you have the information at your fingertips? May I meaningfully proceed?

Millicent has become infatuated with your feckless new secretary.

And before you start doddering, "Do I have a secretary?"

Yes, you do, and his name is Carmody.

Oh, I like him.

He doesn't interfere with my desk and make me sign things.

Exactly, he is completely useless.

I shudder to think what devices Freddie used to persuade you to employ him.

He's also sound on pigs.

Clarence, Hugo Carmody dances and plays the saxophone.

At the same time? Good Lord. Talented fellow.

It is a revoltingly unsuitable match and the liaison must be extinguished.

Connie, why do you burden me with this disagreeable information?

Because although Charlotte is the guardian,

you control the girl's money. Oh!

It is like punching oneself in the face to utter the words -

you have to put your foot down.

Miss Threepwood, I didn't see you...

Pleathe call me Millithent.

I can't help thinking that if I do, your Aunt Charlotte might decapitate me with a cake slice.

Do you have work, Mr Carmody?

Do you have occupation that requires you going in the opposite direction?

Yeth, Aunt.

Beach?

Six seconds.

If a servant moved that slowly in Calcutta, the Brigadier

and I would've had his guts for garters.

I wish to speak to Lady Constance, where is she?

I can't wait for all your blather. Send her to me in the library.

Jaldi, jaldi. Very good, your ladyship.

Hullo, Beach. Good morning, sir.

Look at this mess. It all needs sorting out.

Well, it does NOW.

Same as the nursery, you never put things away properly.

Blandings is a shambles, Connie.

Clarence...

Don't blame Clarence, he's a raving ninny.

You're too soft on him, Connie, far too indulgent.

What this place needs is a thorough turning-inside-out.

Sack that bibulous sloth of a butler. Mince that disgusting pig.

I've half a mind to move back here and do it all myself.

Bring back the brush, I say. Can't beat the back of a hairbrush,

sharply on the knuckles. Remember Nanny Meisie?

Hello, erm... Charlotte. Connie's been talking to me about Gillian.

Millicent.

Exactly what I said.

Oh... I understand she's looking for a young man,

to give her life meaning, direction and purpose.

You have remembered that completely back to front, Clarence.

Not at all.

I think you'll be pleased to hear that I have just the fellow.

His name presently escapes me, but he plays the saxophone,

which I think you will agree is a fine accomplishment in a young man.

Clarence, would you leave the room very quickly, please?

By all means.

What's going on, Connie? I shall not have secrets.

Secrets deserve the brush, hard and smart.

Clarence tries to conduct...

Clarence couldn't conduct a bus.

It's up to you to tell the poor imbecile what's to be done

and see that he does it.

Quick's the word and sharp's the toffee, Constance, jaldi jaldi!

The more I think of it, the more inclined I am to return here.

Hullo, Freddie.

What are you doing?

Sorting out your father's paperwork.

Is this the thorough method, Hugo?

It's the way he likes it.

Listen, old wound. You called. I came.

You must have earned enough to pay back Oofy? Yeah, yeah.

Then why the anxious telegram?

"Come haste, post-haste. The binge has sprung a leak."

I've fallen in love with Millicent.

What?! Carmody, you impetuous fool.

Who's Millicent?

Your cousin. Oh. She's got me in such a spin.

Yes. I recall Millie Wisebite as quite a substantial,

rocking-horse nostrilled sort of girl.

Well, she isn't now. She's an absolute goddess.

Your Aunt Constance is vividly opposed to me even speaking to her.

If your Aunt Charlotte found out, her wrath would be apocalyptic.

Aunts. Nature's howler. Only one thing for it, H.

You'll have to impress yourself on the Guv'nor.

But nobody listens to a word he says.

Ah, you haven't seen him in a passion.

Imagine the torrent of joy...

when you rescue the Empress.

Rescue her from what?

From the extreme peril in which she shall be placed.

Oh, yes... Keep that expression and come with me.

No, Mr Frederick. I'm sorry.

You're not going to sign up to the forces of oppression, surely?

You want young love to bloom?

Eh? Besides, there's 20 quid in it.

I might have to borrow that off you first in order to give it to you...

Bit of confusion over my account at the Pink Pussy--

so not presently over flowing with cash-- but damn it, Beach.

Look at him. Ahem...

Oh, Gordon Bennett.

That's the spirit!

Good Lord.

♪ Don't know why there'th no thun up in the thky

♪ Thtormy weather... ♪

Stop that row.

You don't care for thinging?

Ruddy jungle music. Constance, do you not have a decent programme of blood sports on this estate?

Not at this time of year.

What's the time of year got to do with it?

Plenty of fish to shoot. We've got to stop this girl drooping about the place like a wet rag.

Jaldi, jaldi! Both of you!

Oh, God.

Pick your feet up! We're not made of carpets.

Not such a bad idea to remove her from her usual domicile, sir. Eh?

Yesterday I saw Grunding-- Sir Gregory's footman--

making a purchase at the chemists.

You'd think a man of Parsloe's age would have the courage to do

that sort of thing himself.

No, sir. The purchase was a hundredweight of Slimmo.

A preparation for dramatic and rapid loss of weight.

But Stinker's skinny as a hake. No, not a hake.

Some other emaciated... fish.

A hundredweight of Slimmo and he'd go into minus figures.

Sir Gregory does not intend to ingest it himself, sir.

He means to feed it to The Empress.

Good God, Beach. I call that dirty work at the crossroads.

It is observed below stairs, sir, that Sir Gregory is that bent

you could stick a maggot on his head and catch mackerel.

Have you seen Lord Emsworth?

WOMAN: Well, I think...

Don't answer that.

Where have YOU been?

Erm... I have been observing Stinker Parsloe through a...

long thing, made of brass, goes in and out...

His new pig is very fat, Connie.

Good. Then the two of you will have plenty to discuss tonight

when he dines with us.

Oh, no. No, no, no, no.

Clarence, Charlotte has made a point

and I think it is a fair one-- you are a congenital idiot

and have to be supervised, and I have been far too lenient with you.

She also thinks that you and I

are incapable of running a house in a civilised fashion.

Dining with the Stinker is not going disabuse her of that.

Do one thing for me now

and you will not have to sit anywhere near Sir Gregory.

Ah, there you are.

Hullo, Uncle Clarenthe.

Hullo, my dear. I particularly wanted to talk to you.

Your aunt and I... Have you met your aunt?

Clarence. Will you get on with it?

We're a little concerned about your friendship with m'secretary.

I knew it. Why mutht you hate Hugo tho?

Hugo Tho?

But that's Carmody, Gillian. I like Carmody.

Carmody is your secretary.

Absolutely. Sound on pigs. Oh, God...!

The Empress... has been kidnapped!

Hello, Frederick. Extraordinary thing.

I thought you just said the Empress had been kidnapped.

Uh...

PARSLOE!

The Fat Pig Show but weeks away, and he does this.

The perfidious Parsloe, propagating evil about the Earth.

My poor Empress!

We've searched everywhere-- haven't we, Beach?

In the laundry, up the chimney.

Absolutely no chance of finding her anywhere-- is there, Beach?

No, sir.

It would take an extraordinary man to track her down now.

Lord Emsworth. I shall find her.

You can rely on me, sir.

Well, if any man can get the Empress back for you,

that man is Hugo Carmody.

Good old Hugo Carmody.

You know what we have to do, Beach?

Steal Stinker's pig.

Oh, no, my lord. Oh, yes, Beach.

We must abduct Pride of Matchingham and closet her privily.

I tell you where would be ideal-- the summerhouse.

Nobody would dream of...

I fear, my lord, the summerhouse you speak of is no more.

Eh?

It has burned down, my lord.

Burned down? Struck by lightning.

My dear fellow, I passed it on my bicycle not an hour ago.

Oh, the summerhouse, sir.

Yes, the summerhouse. Beach, you're gibbering. Now listen,

get the Rolls-Royce.

We may take the Pride prisoner,

but we shall transport her courteously, what?

Be about it, Beach.

Yes, Your Lordship.

So. When do I spring the porker?

On my command. But Hugo, don't tell a soul. Especially not Millicent.

If the aunts smell a rat and put the screws on her for intelligence,

she'll crack.

I'm not an idiot, Freddie.

I wouldn't dream of telling poor Millicent about her.

Tho.

Who ith thith female who mutht be conthealed from "poor Millithent"?

What? No, no, no. Female, yes, but...

What'th her name?

I regret I cannot tell you that.

No, no, you... hang onto it.

Thank you, Freddie. You were alwayth tho conthiderate.

You really mustn't worry, old scream. All shall be well.

Do you remember, Freddie... when we were thweethearts?

You were alwayth tho courageouth.

Yes... I used to try to lift you off the ground.

Mr Frederick?

Ah, Beach. What news?

His Lordship is determined to steal Sir Gregory's pig, in retribution.

Ha! Excellent.

And hide it in the summerhouse.

Ah, well that's where the Guv'nor's scheme comes a cropper.

For the summerhouse is already full of pig.

Oh, Lord.

Mr Carmody will have to discover the Empress immediately.

No, no, no. Much too soon.

The Guv'nor has not yet built up a head of fretful steam.

He must be inspired to roar and biff down mountains. Wait a minute.

Oh, Beach-- you will be delighted to hear

I have devised a cunning codicil to my original wheeze.

Oh, no, Mr Frederick.

Not at all. Couldn't be simpler.

What do you want?

Merely to say that I have invited Sir Gregory Parsloe-Parsloe

to dinner tonight.

Such a bore. All he cares about is his pig.

He is worse than Clarence.

Oh.

Awful provincial person, Connie. You can do better.

So... you won't dine with us?

Of course I shall. What other entertainment can you offer?

Yes. What indeed?

By the way, I've spoken to the Brigadier.

He agrees with me, as he darn well should if he knows what's good for him.

We're moving into Blandings.

Permanently. So brace yourself for change.

I am looking forward to tonight.

Ssh!

There's a good big old girl.

Evening, Parsloe. I hear you've got a new pig.

Straight to pigs.

I have, Emsworth. I think we can offer you a run for your money.

Pah!

Sir Gregory, why don't you tell us about life on the Bench?

Sleeping on a bench, is he? Can't say I'm surprised.

Clarence. You know perfectly well that Sir Gregory... Justice of...

Hah. We'll see about justice!

If you talked like that in the cantoonment mess, Clarence,

the Brigadier would have you banged up in chokey, jaldi jaldi.

Chokey jaldi jaldi? Is that some sort of dance?

Yes...

It is, Guv'nor, and Hugo Carmody is the man to teach it to you.

His accomplishments are legion.

Whatever criminal activity you are considering,

Emsworth, I counsel you to avoid it.

I trust that whatever righteous action I have already taken, Parsloe,

will give you pause. I mean... occasion to reflect, not paws...

to reflect.

Let us trust, Emsworth,

that nothing unpleasant befalls you in the small hours of the night.

You utter Harrovian.

Whatever they may have taught you, Stinker, at the Dump on the Hump,

it is bad form to threaten an Englishman in his own home.

Return to me what is mine, and I will...

What?! Emsworth, you're demented.

Millicent? Go to your room.

Clarence, I think you have surpassed yourself this evening.

Thank you, my dear.

Just wait till the Brigadier gets here.

He'll make you hop, by God. The who?

Brigadier Wisebite, Clarence. Charlotte's husband.

Not that awful man with oily hair, parted sideways?

The Brigadier and Charlotte are moving into Blandings.

Hah.

Thought for a minute you were telling me Charlotte

and the awful oily sideways husband were moving in with us. Ha-ha!

I thuppothe you know that I loathe and despise all men?

I loathe and despise all women.

Good.

Isn't it?

Ah... Hugo.

What the devil are you up to, Threepwood,

hanging around Millicent's bedroom?

Fundamental change of wheeze, old corpse.

Is that a fact?

Yes. Put me down, you fathead. Oh!

If you boyth are going to be dithagreeable with each other, I'm going to have a bath.

Good plan. Make it a thoapy one.

Talk fast, Threepwood, before the shrivelled broccoli

that is your brain starts leaking out your ears.

This whole damn thing is a filthy ruse, isn't it,

to get your clammy mitts on Millicent?

I'm coming, darling!

What on Earth was that?

Always carry it.

One never knows when one may be called upon to prevent wrongdoing.

Clarence. Are you a man or a mouse?

Ruddy Stinker. Pig-pincher.

Well. If nobody else is, I'm going in to dinner.

And if there was anybody left in the room they'd appreciate

the suavity with which I say that.

Millicent! Help!

Millicent? Stand back.

Ha! See? Perfectly rational explanation.

Out of the way. I'll deal with this. Millicent!

Pig!

Isn't she a beauty?

Frederick - I suppose it's pointless asking why the Empress

has made this unexpected excursion?

Not at all, Aunt, laughably straightforward.

Cannot abide a pig! Dirty, filthy, secretive animals!

Secretive? I think the Guv'nor would take issue with you there.

The Empress has a sweet and open...

Connie-- I think I am going to be sick...

The creature's frothing at the mouth!

She's just eaten a cake of soap.

Pull yourself together. This sort of thing happens all the time.

Behold, Freddie, how mathterful Hugo ith with the beatht!

Hurrah.

I think, if nobody strenuously objects, I shall go to my room.

Ah, Beach. Are you there?

I believe so, my lord.

Capital. Erm...

Is that for me?

It is, my lord.

Hurrah.

Won't you join me, Beach?

Thank you, my lord.

Here's to a job well done. Eh?

Indeed, my lord.

Do you suppose we ought to kidnap Stinker as well?

Just to be on the safe side?

Are you all right?

I mean, one really cannot trust the fellow.

God knows in what insalubrious conditions the Empress is

presently detained.

But a step too far, do you think?

I shall be guided by you.

Oh... my poor Empress...

Small glass of brandy, perhaps.

Blackguard.

See those boxes with Slimmo written all over them?

Put them in the boot. NOW!

Enter.

Connie, dear? I've been thinking.

If this foaming-pigs-in-bathrooms business is a quotidian event

at Blandings, I really don't think I can help you.

Oh, dear.

I'm afraid it's not for me.

In fact, I think in the morning, Millicent

and I should really return home.

Well, I am distraught to hear that.

The Brigadier will be missing me.

Yes, of course he must be.

Well. Good night, dear.

Good night.

Oh, good Lord.

Yes! Hugo found her, Guv'nor, just as he said he would.

She's right as rain.

Not a bristle on her snout out of place.

Carmody, I am agog...

Suffice it to say the rescue required the utmost

bravery on Hugo's part.

He really is the most remarkable man.

Also, he'd like to marry Millicent.

My dear fellow, of course you would.

Who in their right mind wouldn't want to marry Millicent?

Who is Millicent?

Me. Well, there you are, Carmody, fill your boots.

I plan to open a small jazz club in Chelsea.

Sorry, did you just say "fill your boots"? Thank you, Lord Emsworth!

Thank YOU, my dear fellow.

It's possible that Aunts C and C may not smile upon the betrothal.

You leave your aunts to me.

Beach! Gird up your lions-- poss misheard. One more thing to do.

No, Mr Frederick.

Dot the Ts and cross the Is. Come on.

Capital. Capital.

Don't turn the torch on, you ruddy imbecile.

Listen to that. Wolfing it down. Know what this stuff does, Grunding?

It gives you the trots.

This pig'll be doing the Aztec two-step for weeks.

The weight will simply stream off her.

Now, Mr Frederick?

Yup.

Woo-hoo! Right.

I'd say we have 15 minutes to return Pride of Matchingham before

she starts exhibiting the indelicate symptoms described by Sir Gregory.

We, sir?

Did I say 20 quid, Beach? I meant 40.

You haven't got 40 quid, sir.

I haven't got 20 either, but it's the thought that counts. Hey?

I shouldn't wish to give the impression

that you are in any way spoiled.

I take these measures solely in the interest of your security.

So...

Just for tonight, eh?

Mmm.