Nanny McPhee Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the Nanny McPhee script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the Emma Thompson movie.  This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of Nanny McPhee. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and I'll be eternally tweaking it, so if you have any corrections, feel free to drop me a line. You won't hurt my feelings. Honest.

Swing on back to Drew's Script-O-Rama afterwards for more free movie scripts!

Nanny McPhee Script


  

  

 

                   

[magical tinkling]



 

                   

[man] We must begin our story, sad to say,

with an empty chair.



 

                   

If it were not empty,

we would not have a story.



 

                   

But it is, and we do, and it is time to tell it.



 

                   

[birds twitter]



 

                   

[whooshing and tinkling]



 

                   

This is the story of my family,



 

                   

of my seven children, who are all very clever



 

                   

but all very, very, very naughty.



  

                   

Aaaaah! Aaaah! Aaaaa-aaaagh...!



  

                   

This is Nanny Whetstone,



  

                   

the    th nanny I had hired

to look after my children.



  

                   

- Aaaaagh...!

- She was the strictest, the toughest



  

                   

and the most fearless nanny in all the land.



  

                   

As I went to work that day

at the funeral parlour,



  

                   

I was confident in the knowledge

that there was nothing, absolutely nothing



  

                   

- that my children could do to upset her.

- [shrieking approaches]



  

                   

They've eaten the baby!



  

                   

Except that.



  

                   

- [children] Quick! He's coming!

- Hide!



  

                   

- Quiet!

- Stop it!



  

                   

- Shh!

- [urgent whispering]



  

                   

[child burps]



  

                   

Children, where's Aggy?



  

                   

- [baby gurgles happily]

- [bells jingle]



  

                   

[rattle jingles]



  

                   

- Look at you.

- [Aggy gurgles]



  

                   

You're all cabbagey.



  

                   

Oh...and you're all gravy-y.



  

                   

As was your intention, Nanny Whetstone

has resigned from her post.



  

                   

I shall go to the agency this afternoon

and hire a new nanny.



  

                   

You will not drive her away

as you have done with her predecessors.



  

                   

[Aggy gurgles joyfully]



  

                   

Papa.



  

                   

Can't catch me out.

That showed 'em who's boss.



  

                   

Aaaagh! Whoa! Ooh! [grunts]



  

                   

Three days, eight hours and    minutes.



  

                   

So that got rid of her...



  

                   

   hours and     minutes

quicker than the last one.



  

                   

I think the turning point was definitely

eating the baby. Well done, Eric.



  

                   

Mr Brown, are you all right?



  

                   

I'm perfectly all right.



  

                   

Evangeline, could you let Cook know

that the new nanny has had to leave



  

                   

and I'm off to the agency to find a new one?



  

                   

Good. I'll just...



  

                   

[rattles doorknob]



  

                   

- Mrs Partridge?

- [woman] We're closed.



  

                   

- There's been a tiny hiccup.

- We're not here.



  

                   

- Please, let me in...

- Go away.



  

                   

Listen, they didn't eat the baby.

It was a chicken, actually.



  

                   

There's no more nannies! You've had your lot.

[slams door upstairs]



  

                   

[hinge creaks]



  

                   

[mysterious woman's voice]

The person you need is Nanny McPhee.



  

                   

Is that you, Mrs Partridge?



  

                   

The person you need is Nanny McPhee.



  

                   

I need her to start right away.

I'm late for a vital tea dance.



  

                   

Nanny McPhee is not on our books.



  

                   

Nanny McPhee is not on anyone's books.



  

                   

Nanny Whetstone's gone.



  

                   

There's a surprise. Hurry it up there. Spuds.



  

                   

Mr Brown's gone to the agency.

I said the children'll be fine with us.



  

                   

They won't be fine with me.



  

                   

I won't have them dirty blighters

in my kitchen, and that is that!



  

                   

I have it in writing. In writing!



  

                   

- [horrendous cacophony]

- [children shouting]



  

                   

- Well, that's the final straw.

- Pa!



  

                   

- There are no more nannies.

- Whoa!



  

                   

None. All over, finished.



  

                   

I've had to cancel my appointment

and that will cause trouble.



  

                   

- I told them not to. It wasn't my idea.

- Don't look at me! It's not my fault.



  

                   

Well, you seem intent on distressing me...



  

                   

Er...don't do that, darling, please.

That's my sore bit.



  

                   

You seem intent on distressing me,

so I'm going to distress you.



  

                   

You are to...to go to bed immediately.



  

                   

Before supper?



  

                   

Without supper.



  

                   

Did he say without supper?



  

                   

Never mind that.



  

                   

There's no more nannies.



  

                   

Poor him...and poor them.



  

                   

Poor them, my Aunt Fanny.



  

                   

They're the worstest, nastiest, horriblest...



  

                   

It'll be snow in August

before this family's straightened out.



  

                   

"Dear Nanny Whetstone,

I'm so very sorry."



  

                   

- "My children..."

- [children shout and fight]



  

                   

[girl] Eric, give it back to her!

Give it back now! Stop it!



  

                   

My children.



  

                   

Eric! Eric, that's my teddy!



  

                   

- Eric, stop doing this!

- Give it back!



  

                   

- Stop fighting!

- Oi, you lot!



  

                   

- Quiet!

- [Sebastian hits notes on piano]



  

                   

You're driving your poor father

to distraction. Stop it.



  

                   

Lily, what's this word?



  

                   

Lovingly. "He took her lovingly by the hand."



  

                   

What's your book about, Evangeline?



  

                   

It's about the daughter of a nice man

who remarries after his wife dies



  

                   

and the stepmother's horrid to her.



  

                   

Why doesn't the man stop her being horrid?



  

                   

Fathers all turn bad once their wives die.

They don't care any more.



   

                   

Simon. Yours does.



   

                   

No, he doesn't.



   

                   

Does he read to Chrissie

or play cricket with us like he used to?



   

                   

He doesn't even sing Loola-bye to Aggy.

We hardly see him.



   

                   

He loves you, Simon. You know that.

He's just had a lot on his mind since...



   

                   

Since Mother died.



   

                   

You used to be as close as anything.



   

                   

Not any more. All he cares about now

is getting himself a nice new wife.



   

                   

Well... I don't know if that's true or not,



   

                   

but it might be nice to have a new mother.



   

                   

Don't you know anything about the world?



   

                   

Whoever he marries will be vile

and treat us like slaves.



   

                   

- You don't know that.

- Plenty of hard evidence for it.



   

                   

There isn't one stepmother in there

who's even halfway decent.



   

                   

They're an evil breed. Anyway,

who ever likes other people's children?



   

                   

I like you.



   

                   

Yes, but you're a servant.

You're paid to like us.



   

                   

That doesn't count.



   

                   

- [guillotine clunks]

- I've got my work to be getting on with.



   

                   

[guillotine squeaks, then drops]



   

                   

I really am hungry, Evangeline.



   

                   

Could you maybe bring me

some secret toast and jam?



   

                   

All right, forget the jam.

Just some secret toast.



   

                   

[match flares]



   

                   

[fire crackles]



   

                   

Shall I plump the cushion

on Mrs Brown's chair?



   

                   

I know you like to plump it yourself

sometimes.



   

                   

Oh, no, that's...that's all right.

You plump away, Evangeline. Thank you.



   

                   

I was wondering if I might make

Master Sebastian a piece of toast.



   

                   

Yes, I should think...

Er...no, under no circumstances. No.



   

                   

I could do it secret-like.



   

                   

No, they'll hear him chewing

and then we're done for.



   

                   

No, they get nothing.



   

                   

Righto, Mr Brown.



   

                   

[mysterious woman's voice]

The person you need is Nanny McPhee.



   

                   

Nanny McPhee.



   

                   

[sighs]



   

                   

No supper.



   

                   

Discipline. That's more like it.



   

                   

[whirring]



   

                   

[squeaks]



   

                   

[squeaking echoes]



   

                   

[mouse squeaks]



   

                   

[whimpers]



   

                   

[gasps]



   

                   

Now, you listen here, you pustular tykes.



   

                   

You ain't allowed in this kitchen,

not now, not ever.



   

                   

I have it in writing.



   

                   

Well, dear, the agency has closed its doors.



   

                   

What am I to do? Aunt Adelaide says...



   

                   

Your children are out of control, Cedric.



   

                   

And there was that thing she said

about their needing a female influence. I...



   

                   

You know what she's like.

She'll stop the allowance



   

                   

unless I marry again and give them

a new mother within the month.



   

                   

A month. I mean, it's unbearable.

But l... I had to... I had to promise.



   

                   

Remember we talked about

what would happen without her money.



   

                   

The bank will take the house.



   

                   

There'll be debtors' prison for me,

workhouse for the older children.



   

                   

Goodness only knows

what'll happen to little Chrissie.



   

                   

And as for Aggy...



   

                   

it's unimaginable.



   

                   

[squeaking]



   

                   

[springs boing]



   

                   

Where are you? You mewling half-bakes!



   

                   

I'm ready for you. And I'm hard!



   

                   

[boing!]



   

                   

[children's laughter and shouting echoes]



   

                   

This is fun!



   

                   

We got Cook!



   

                   

[mysterious woman's voice]

The person you need is Nanny McPhee.



   

                   

- [Chrissie] Ju-ump!

- [Cook shrieks through gag]



   

                   

Eric, you're not making another bomb,

are you?



   

                   

[he cackles maniacally]



   

                   

[echoing] McPhee...



   

                   

- Whee!

- Jump!



   

                   

- Oh!

- Jump!



   

                   

[yells]



   

                   

- They're in the kitchen.

- No! No! You took them down for toast!



   

                   

I never did!

You sent them to bed with no dinner.



   

                   

- That's what done it!

- Don't tell...



   

                   

- [banging]

- [thunderclap]



   

                   

[electrical crackle]



   

                   

- I'll, er...

- Why don't you...?



   

                   

- I'll go.

- No, I'd better...



   

                   

- Well, no, I can...

- You, erm... I'll...



   

                   

- I'll be off, then.

- Yes, you... I'll just...



   

                   

[electrical crackle]



   

                   

[thunder rumbles]



   

                   

[door creaks]



   

                   

[thunderclap]



   

                   

Good evening, Mr Brown.

I am Nanny McPhee.



   

                   

Oh, you're... Er...of course.



   

                   

Good heavens. I suppose the agency...



   

                   

I do not belong to any agency, Mr Brown.

I am a government nanny.



   

                   

A government nanny? How...



   

                   

.. unusual.



   

                   

May I come in?



   

                   

Yes, by all means, do...do come in.



   

                   

- Hm.

- [thunder rumbles]



   

                   

I understand you have

extremely ill-behaved children.



   

                   

No. No, no. No.

No... Good grief, what a suggestion.



   

                   

[china shatters, child roars]



   

                   

- Playful.

- [child] Shut up!



   

                   

What are your main concerns?



   

                   

Concerns?



   

                   

Mm. Do they go to bed when they're told?



   

                   

Well, no, not, er... No.



   

                   

- Do they get up when they're told?

- Er...well, no, not exactly.



   

                   

- Get dressed when they're told?

- Now, that's a good question.



   

                   

- Do they say "please" and "thank you"?

- In what context?



   

                   

- That will do to be going on with.

- [child laughs wickedly]



   

                   

- Your children need me.

- [china shatters]



   

                   

I'll go and make sure everything's

in order before I introduce you.



   

                   

I shall introduce myself.



   

                   

Please, Mr Brown,

go back to your newspaper.



   

                   

- [tiny bells tinkling]

- [clattering and wild yelling]



   

                   

[children squeal and yell]



   

                   

[muffled shouting]



   

                   

Oh, look.



   

                   

The door's open and there's nobody there.



   

                   

[muffled shrieks]



   

                   

I am here.



   

                   

I am Nanny McPhee.



   

                   

Oh, did...did somebody speak?



   

                   

- I didn't hear anything.

- That's because nobody's there.



   

                   

- [gasps]

- [clanging]



   

                   

Then listen carefully and try to hear this.



   

                   

Stop what you are doing,

put the kitchen to rights



   

                   

and go upstairs to bed.



   

                   

[muffled shouts]



   

                   

- Did you hear what I said?

- I've just had an idea.



   

                   

Why don't we play here

in the kitchen all night long?



   

                   

Let's, let's!



   

                   

- Excellent notion.

- [Sebastian] Tomatoes!



   

                   

Jump! Jump, jump! Jump!



   

                   

- [magical wind rushes]

- [Chrissie] Jump, jump, jump, jump!



   

                   

Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump!



   

                   

Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump!



   

                   

Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump...jump...



   

                   

- jump.

- [whines]



   

                   

- [creaking]

- [magical wind rushes]



   

                   

Government nanny?



   

                   

[crashing thud]



   

                   

[Chrissie] What's she done?



   

                   

- [Eric] She's done something to us!

- They went in the pot!



   

                   

[Chrissie] I can't stop!



   

                   

[Eric] She banged her stick!



   

                   

[Chrissie] I'm going to be sick!



   

                   

[yells and squeals]



   

                   

- [Eric] It must be magic!

- [Lily] What's happening?



   

                   

- [Lily] Please, Simon, let's stop!

- We've got to stop!



   

                   

- Let's stop!

- Let's stop!



   

                   

- Well, stop if you want, then!

- We can't!



   

                   

It's her fault!



   

                   

It started when she banged the stick!



   

                   

- [Chrissie] I can't stop!

- [Eric] Slow down!



   

                   

Simon!



   

                   

Come on, whoever you are!

Let's stop this and go to bed!



   

                   

- Say "please".

- I never say "please".



   

                   

Very well.



   

                   

- Please!

- Please!



   

                   

- Don't touch Aggy!

- Wait!



   

                   

Say it!



   

                   

Actually, Simon, would you,

because this baby's gonna blow!



   

                   

- And Aggy's gonna go in the stockpot!

- Put her back, Chrissie!



   

                   

Oh, for goodness' sake! Please, then!



   

                   

[Chrissie] Take Aggy off me!



   

                   

Please, Nanny McPhee.



   

                   

[Tora] Chrissie, don't!



   

                   

- Say it!

- [Eric] Take Aggy out!



   

                   

- [Tora] No, Lily!

- Say it!



   

                   

Simon!



   

                   

- [Lily] I can't stop myself!

- [pots clatter musically]



   

                   

Please, Nanny McPhee.



   

                   

[Lily] I'm going to jump!



   

                   

Too late!



   

                   

[magical wind rushes]



   

                   

[tiny bell rings]



   

                   

Blimey.



   

                   

Up to bed, please.



   

                   

Goodnight, Mrs Blatherwick.

Goodnight, Evangeline.



   

                   

[servants] Goodnight, Nanny McPhee.



   

                   

When Mr Brown said no dinner,

I thought they'd be down in a trice.



   

                   

They've been ever so quiet.



   

                   

Don't you fret.

They don't dare come in this kitchen.



   

                   

I have it in writing.



   

                   

[sighs contentedly]



   

                   

- Be careful, Aggy.

- [jingling]



   

                   

It's Mama's rattle,

and it's the only thing we've got of hers.



   

                   

[Aggy gurgles]



   

                   

- What on earth are you doing?

- Getting ready for bed.



   

                   

- What she told us to do.

- Since when did we do what we're told?



   

                   

Since we nearly got Cook blown up

and Aggy boiled.



   

                   

May I just remind you of something?

We got rid of the last     nannies.



   

                   

We're getting rid of this one too.



   

                   

[children all shout]



   

                   

Fine! Be brave, then!



   

                   

Yes, well, I nearly got blown up!

And anyway, l...



   

                   

[magical tinkling]



   

                   

Hm.



   

                   

You must feel at such a disadvantage,

Nanny McPhee.



   

                   

In what way?



   

                   

We know your name

but you don't know ours.



   

                   

[other children giggle]



   

                   

Pleased to meet you.

I'm Oglington Fartworthy.



   

                   

- [farty noise]

- [giggling]



   

                   

How do you do?



   

                   

That's F-A-R-T.



   

                   

- Fartworthy.

- [giggling swells]



   

                   

Booger McHorsefanny.



   

                   

Knickers O'Muffin.



   

                   

Sandra.



   

                   

Bum.



   

                   

I'm Bum!



   

                   

Oh. Bosoms.



   

                   

[children giggle]



   

                   

Bum.



   

                   

You can't be Bum, Aggy.

Sebastian's Bum. You're Poop.



   

                   

Poop Bum.



   

                   

You can't be Poop and Bum.



   

                   

- [children laughing]

- [Aggy giggles then stops]



   

                   

[whispers] Goodnight, Agatha.



   

                   

Goodnight, Sebastian.



   

                   

Goodnight, Tora.



   

                   

Goodnight, Christianna.



   

                   

Goodnight, Lily.



   

                   

Goodnight, Eric.



   

                   

Goodnight, Simon.



   

                   

There is something you should understand

about the way I work.



   

                   

When you need me but do not want me,

then I must stay.



   

                   

When you want me but no longer need me,

then I have to go.



   

                   

It's rather sad, really, but there it is.



   

                   

We will never want you.



   

                   

Then I will never go.



   

                   

- Goodnight, children.

- [magical tinkling]



   

                   

How did she know our names?

No one ever knows our names.



   

                   

- Magic.

- Witchcraft.



   

                   

It doesn't matter.

We're getting rid of her tomorrow.



   

                   

- [owl hoots]

- [mutters]



   

                   

- [tinkling wind rushes]

- What? Wha... What? What?



   

                   

I did knock.



   

                   

Of course. You weren't just

creeping up on me. What a suggestion.



   

                   

- The children are all in bed and asleep.

- Good. Really?



   

                   

Hm.



   

                   

- Good grief.

- I shall see myself to my room.



   

                   

Goodnight, Mr Brown.



   

                   

No, wait.



   

                   

What do you... I mean, how...

What are your terms?



   

                   

Your children require five lessons.



   

                   

Lesson one, to go to bed

when they're told, is complete.



   

                   

As for my terms,

I take Sunday afternoons off.



   

                   

Goodnight.



   

                   

Interesting.



   

                   

[magical breeze sighs]



   

                   

- [birds twitter]

- [geese honk]



   

                   

[buzzing]



   

                   

[grunts and snuffles]



   

                   

Time to get up.



   

                   

[grunts] No.



   

                   

Hm. I shall give you half an hour to be up,



   

                   

washed, dressed, teeth cleaned, beds made



   

                   

and out into the garden

for healthful fresh air before breakfast.



   

                   

Lessons start at nine...sharp.



   

                   

[magical breeze sighs]



   

                   

I don't know about you lot,

but I want to stay in bed.



   

                   

Sebastian, run the thermometer

under the hot tap.



   

                   

Chrissie, chalk. Eric, crayons. Lily, pepper.



   

                   

How do you know

she won't do something horrid to us?



   

                   

I worked it out.



   

                   

She's a trained hypnotist.

That's how she made us do those things.



   

                   

Don't look directly at her

and she can't hypnotise us.



   

                   

[knock at door]



   

                   

- Morning, Mr Brown.

- Morning.



   

                   

I'm off to work early.

We're busy at the mortuary.



   

                   

Some bout of influenza at Archway

is carrying off all the old folks... Ah-ah-ah!



   

                   

Still, what's bad for them

is good for us. [chuckles]



   

                   

Poor things.



   

                   

Well, I know. That, too. Of course.



   

                   

- [door slams]

- Odd. She normally says, "Have a nice day,"



   

                   

or "Don't forget your jacket" if it's cold out.



   

                   

Very odd. Most peculiar.



   

                   

[magical wind rushes]



   

                   

Hm.



   

                   

- I did knock.

- Did you? I didn't hear.



   

                   

I was talking to...



   

                   

Never mind.



   

                   

I believe the children

will be staying in bed today.



   

                   

The children? What, all day?

Are they ill? What's wrong?



   

                   

Nothing. I know precisely what to do.

Please leave it to me.



   

                   

You managed them splendidly last night.



   

                   

If they are under the weather,



   

                   

give them what they want,

ice-cream and jelly and suchlike.



   

                   

My late wife was very particular.

If ever they were ill,



   

                   

she used to wait on them hand and foot...

even if they weren't ill at all.



   

                   

I shall be sure to give them

exactly what they need.



   

                   

Excellent. Excellent.

Well, I'll just be off to work, then.



   

                   

[magical tinkling]



   

                   

She's coming!



   

                   

Remember, everyone, don't look in her eyes.



   

                   

Dear me.



   

                   

[coughs] We can't get up. We're ill.



   

                   

Colds in our doses.



   

                   

And kemperakurk.



   

                   

We think it bight be the beasles.



   

                   

Got measig.



   

                   

Good heavens.



   

                   

Then there is of course

no question of your getting up.



   

                   

I'm very sorry to have to tell you all

that you'll have to stay in bed.



   

                   

Hm.



   

                   

- [magical wind rushes]

- [creaking]



   

                   

[crashing thud]



   

                   

[children giggle]



   

                   

[giggling dies away]



   

                   

- Ah.

- I don't feel well.



   

                   

- I think I've got a temperature.

- Don't be daft.



   

                   

Simon, I can't get up.



   

                   

- You must have looked at her, then.

- I did not look.



   

                   

I was under the covers the whole time,

Simon. I can't get up either.



   

                   

- [Sebastian] I can't get up!

- [Eric] I'm stuck like glue!



   

                   

[Chrissie] I'm stuck, too!



   

                   

Hypnosis, eh? Bang goes that theory.



   

                   

Good morning.



   

                   

[both] Morning, Mr B!



   

                   

- [they laugh uproariously]

- Good morning, Mr Jowls, Mr Wheen.



   

                   

- [both] Thought we'd get you that time.

- No, not this time.



   

                   

- Nice tea dance, Mr B?

- Ooh, lovely, I shouldn't wonder.



   

                   

No. I didn't even get there. Disaster.

Children, you know.



   

                   

- We do know.

- We've said it before.



   

                   

It's not funerals

you should be in the business of.



   

                   

[both] It's christenings.



   

                   

[they laugh uproariously]



   

                   

Good morning.

Just excuse me a moment, would you?



   

                   

[woman] Cedric,

let me not beat about the bush.



   

                   

Your children are out of control.



   

                   

You need a wife

and your children need a mother.



   

                   

If you do not remarry by the end of the month,

steps will have to be taken.



   

                   

Oh, dear. Oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear.



   

                   

What's your wife like?



   

                   

Never mind. Less than a month to go.

There's nothing for it.



   

                   

It'll have to be that woman...

the dreadful one.



   

                   

Mr Jowls, do you recollect

that...enthusiastic lady?



   

                   

Mrs Swiftly, was it? Or was it

Mrs Thadius something last year?



   

                   

- Mrs Thadius Quickly?

- Oh, don't.



   

                   

"Oh, Mr Brown, you are a saint. You have

a lovely look of kindness about you."



   

                   

What I wouldn't give for a man like you,

Mr Brown, in my hour of need.



   

                   

- That one?

- Yes, that one.



   

                   

We buried Mr Quickly last autumn.

Poor devil.



   

                   

- He was happy to go.

- He was her third.



   

                   

You don't happen to know

if... if she ever...ever, erm...



   

                   

remarried? You know, number four?



   

                   

Mr Brown, you're not thinking what I think

you're thinking, are you, Mr Brown?



   

                   

Good grief, no! No, no. No. No.



   

                   

No. No, no... no. What a thought. No. No.



   

                   

[both] Ohhh...



   

                   

- [gloopy bubbling]

- [children] What's that?



   

                   

Measle medicine,

to be administered once an hour.



   

                   

Actually, I'm not sure it is measles.



   

                   

How can it be anything other?



   

                   

The chalky-white faces, the livid spots,



   

                   

- the temperatures of      degrees.

- [sizzle]



   

                   

I've seen it time and again. Measles.



   

                   

Definitely.



   

                   

[thick, gloopy gurgling]



   

                   

Urgh!



   

                   

- Open.

- [Lily] Simon, don't!



   

                   

- [sludgy bubbling]

- I'm not taking that.



   

                   

Then you will not get any better.



   

                   

Believe me.



   

                   

[Chrissie] It's moving!



   

                   

Open wide.



   

                   

Wider.



   

                   

[Simon grunts and gags]



   

                   

Urgh!



   

                   

- [thick, gloopy gulping]

- Urgh!



   

                   

[retches]



   

                   

[Eric] Simon, spit it out!



   

                   

You'll have to swallow it sooner or later,

so I suggest you get it over with.



   

                   

- [thick, bubbling gulp]

- [gags]



   

                   

Very good. Who's next?



   

                   

"Took..."



   

                   

"He..."



   

                   

"He took her lovingly..."



   

                   

"He took her lovingly by the...the hand."



   

                   

- [magical breeze sighs]

- Oh! Nanny McPhee, you startled me.



   

                   

It was that quiet.



   

                   

I just got to practising my sounds.

Lily's teaching me to read.



   

                   

That is good.



   

                   

They're all good... underneath it all.



   

                   

- A favourite of yours?

- Don't know.



   

                   

I haven't finished it yet.



   

                   

- The stepmother's a bit of a horror, though.

- Oh, indeed.



   

                   

It's a pity stories aren't about real people.



   

                   

This one seems a farm girl,

but I'll bet a pound to a penny



   

                   

he finds out she's really an educated lady.



   

                   

And then he falls for her.



   

                   

You must read it and find out.



   

                   

He wouldn't love her if she couldn't read.



   

                   

He'd think her stupid



   

                   

and worthless and beneath him.



   

                   

Hm.



   

                   

[tinkling breeze sighs]



   

                   

Buttered spuds for lunch

with boiled beef, apple pie and custard.



   

                   

Hm.



   

                   

I think the children will be requiring

something a little more...



   

                   

austere today.



   

                   

'Orse what?



   

                   

The children are not quite themselves,

Mrs Blatherwick.



   

                   

God! That means jellies and ice-cream,

raspberry cordial and God knows what else.



   

                   

Well, I'd better get cracking, then.



   

                   

Evangeline!



   

                   

Where is that lump?



   

                   

It'll be snow in August

before that one's there when you need her.



   

                   

Calm yourself, Mrs Blatherwick.

I'm in charge today.



   

                   

I understand that you were once

in the armed forces.



   

                   

I was that. Cooked at a training camp

in Gloucestershire.



   

                   

Kept those boys strong, I did.



   

                   

I'm sure you did. Perhaps a broth

of some sort for the children.



   

                   

You must be an expert.



   

                   

Best thin potato gruel with peelings in?



   

                   

That always got 'em groaning

but kept 'em strong.



   

                   

Are you well supplied with peelings?



   

                   

These'll do. Only a day old.



   

                   

[tinkling breeze blows]



   

                   

A bit of gristle for flavour. Ever so tasty.



   

                   

[chuckles]



   

                   

Get that down you.

There's a lot of goodness in a turkey neck.



   

                   

That'll put the hairs back on your chest.



   

                   

[inhales deeply] Smell that.

That is the smell that forged this empire.



   

                   

That pong is the pong of conquerors.



   

                   

All right, men. As you were.



   

                   

They actually are starving us.



   

                   

I wonder how long it will take for us all to die.



   

                   

[cat yowls]



   

                   

[floorboards creak]



   

                   

Quickly...



   

                   

Quickly, Quickly, Quickly...



   

                   

Mrs Selma Quickly.



   

                   

[footsteps approach]



   

                   

Have you lazy lot been in bed all day?



   

                   

Evangeline.



   

                   

You've been doing measles, haven't you?



   

                   

The situation's very simple, Evangeline.



   

                   

The nanny, who in my opinion is a witch,



   

                   

made us ill and fed us boiled-down toads.



   

                   

Nanny McPhee is not a witch, Eric.

You're very naughty to say so.



   

                   

I'm sure she knew what she was doing.



   

                   

- She must be fully trained.

- Yes, but as what?



   

                   

I'm unbelievably hungry, Evangeline.



   

                   

Can you please get us

something decent to eat?



   

                   

Did you just say "please"?



   

                   

[children] Please, please, Evangeline!



   

                   

Well, children,

I hear you've been in bed all day



   

                   

but that you're better now.



   

                   

It wasn't our fault.



   

                   

I'm sure it wasn't anybody's fault.

You can't help it if you're ill.



   

                   

But you're better now.



   

                   

- [creaking]

- [whooshing]



   

                   

[crashing thud]



   

                   

- Papa?

- Yes, Chrissie?



   

                   

Now that we're better, can we get up?



   

                   

- Erm...

- [children] Can we get up, please?



   

                   

[tinkling breeze blows]



   

                   

Of course you can.



   

                   

Read to us.



   

                   

I, erm... I have my letter-writing to do. I...



   

                   

I'll read to you tomorrow.

Goodnight, my dears.



   

                   

Evangeline,



   

                   

please ask Cook to make the children

scrambled eggs on toast.



   

                   

I'm sure they'd like supper

now they're feeling better.



   

                   

I'll do it myself, Nanny McPhee.



   

                   

- [clears throat gently]

- [tinkling breeze sighs]



   

                   

Didn't she have two bumpy things?



   

                   

The word is "wart".



   

                   

Traditionally associated with witches,

as it happens.



   

                   

Well, one of 'em's gone.



   

                   

- [magical wind rushes]

- [gasps]



   

                   

I did knock.



   

                   

Of course you did.



   

                   

Lesson two, to get up when they're told,

is complete.



   

                   

Of course. Very good. Thank you.



   

                   

Goodnight, Mr Brown.



   

                   

- Nanny McPhee...

- Yes, Mr Brown?



   

                   

Didn't you used to have two...



   

                   

w...w...?



   

                   

Never mind. It's, er... it's my imagination.



   

                   

[church bell tolls]



   

                   

There was a telegram, Mr Brown.



   

                   

Oh, my... Oh, my goodness.



   

                   

- Ah, Nanny McPhee.

- Pa!



   

                   

Good, good, good.

All right, I have an announcement.



   

                   

Yes...



   

                   

Your Great-Aunt Adelaide

is coming for tea today.



   

                   

[grizzles]



   

                   

- No!

- Aunt Adelaide is vile and vicious.



   

                   

She's blind as a bat.

And we are convalescing, for heaven's sake!



   

                   

That's enough. I don't want to hear

anything bad about her. She pays the rent.



   

                   

- She scares me.

- She's only coming for tea.



   

                   

You'll all put your best clothes on



   

                   

and Nanny McPhee will keep you in order.



   

                   

I shall do my best, sir,

considering that today is Sunday



   

                   

and I am off duty this afternoon.



   

                   

- [jingle]

- Off duty?



   

                   

- [rattle jingles]

- Mm.



   

                   

- [rattle jingles]

- You're off duty when...?



   

                   

You can't be off duty.

I need you. They need you.



   

                   

- [jingle]

- I shall be leaving at noon.



   

                   

Thereafter, I'm sure the children will do

exactly as they're told. Won't you, children?



   

                   

Listen to this, dear. Aunt Adelaide says,



   

                   

"l am coming with the express intention



   

                   

of easing your financial burden."



   

                   

Maybe she's thought the better

of my having to remarry.



   

                   

Perhaps I won't have to go through with it.



   

                   

[whinnies]



   

                   

- [coachman] Yah! Yah!

- [whinnying]



   

                   

[Sebastian] I hate my best clothes.

They're itchy.



   

                   

Well, we promised, so that's that.



   

                   

Tora's right.

We should do exactly as we're told.



   

                   

We've been told to put

our best clothes on, haven't we? Right.



   

                   

Well, I'm going to put

my best clothes on...the pig.



   

                   

Simon, no.



   

                   

- Yeah, the pig!

- Oh, please, don't!



   

                   

[horses snort]



   

                   

- Aunt Adelaide, welcome back.

- Where are you?



   

                   

- Here I am, Aunt Adelaide.

- Oh! Don't crowd me so.



   

                   

You're looking very peely-wally.

Where's my tea? I must have tea.



   

                   

Of course. This way. At once.



   

                   

I smell damp.



   

                   

[sniffs] No, no... At least not noticeably.



   

                   

Damp in the house.

Hence your pallid complexion.



   

                   

Lovely hat.



   

                   

A gift from the Duchess of Kent.

She has taste.



   

                   

- I've always hated this room.

- [chuckles]



   

                   

- Milk?

- Certainly not.



   

                   

Filthy stuff. Most unhealthy.



   

                   

- Sugar?

- Six, if you please.



   

                   

Six.



   

                   

Let me not beat about the bush, Cedric.

You have too many children.



   

                   

- Ah, that.

- Don't interrupt.



   

                   

Your wife, my poor, weak-minded niece,

had no sense of proportion.



   

                   

However, I know where my duties lie.

I gave her my word that I would help.



   

                   

As you know, Cedric, my word is my law.



   

                   

I now propose to help you further.



   

                   

- Oh, thank you, Aunt Adelaide. Thank you.

- Don't interrupt. Sit down.



   

                   

This is my proposal.



   

                   

I shall relieve you of one of your children...



   

                   

and give it a home with me at Stitch Manor.



   

                   

[thunderclap]



   

                   

[gasps]



   

                   

It will require sacrifice on my part.

I realise that.



   

                   

But as my sainted father always said,

"Duty, Adelaide, always duty."



   

                   

- You mustn't. I can't possibly...

- Thank me enough. I know.



   

                   

You must feel quite overwhelmed

by the benefits of such a plan.



   

                   

Your fortunate daughter,



   

                   

for it must be a girl

and not one of those other things,



   

                   

will receive private tuition

in literature, history, deportment



   

                   

and above all, elocution.



   

                   

If there's one thing I won't stand for,

it's loose vowels.



   

                   

What did Papa say? He must have

told her not to even think of it.



   

                   

He didn't say anything.



   

                   

[Tora sighs]



   

                   

Come on. Let's find the others.



   

                   

I must be frank.

There is no question of your taking...



   

                   

Hush now! I'm used to taking responsibility

for other people's mistakes.



   

                   

Now, where is the bulk of your offspring?



   

                   

- Ah. Here we are.

- [oinks]



   

                   

- Oh!

- Baaagh!



   

                   

- It was a bee. A big bee. Erm...

- Good heavens!



   

                   

Gone now. Phew.



   

                   

- Hm.

- You're not well, Cedric.



   

                   

The sooner you find a good wife, the better.



   

                   

- [brays]

- This'll put her off wanting any of you girls.



   

                   

- [oinks]

- Speak up, girl!



   

                   

Oh! What an unfortunate face.



   

                   

All those bristles.



   

                   

It might be very hard

to get her decently betrothed.



   

                   

[oinking]



   

                   

Do you not have a more comely girl?



   

                   

[panting]



   

                   

[clucking]



   

                   

- Erm... perhaps round the front of the house.

- Oh!



   

                   

[pig oinks]



   

                   

- [brays]

- Chrissie, hurry up!



   

                   

- Tie it, Chrissie.

- [braying]



   

                   

- [shrieks]

- [Simon] Eric, stop her!



   

                   

- Chrissie, stop! She'll see you!

- Papa!



   

                   

Cedric, I had no idea

that you had produced such a...



   

                   

such an unattractive batch of females.



   

                   

I shall leave directly. Get my hat.



   

                   

Your hat? So soon?



   

                   

- Really? No, you can't... I'll get it.

- Hewitt!



   

                   

No!



   

                   

- A-ha!

- [gasps]



   

                   

Oh, yes. You'll do perfectly.



   

                   

A little timid, perhaps,

but we'll soon knock that out of you.



   

                   

Come on, come on. It can't do any harm to try.



   

                   

I can't find your... What are you doing?



   

                   

- This is the chosen one. Get her ready.

- Papa, help!



   

                   

- Chrissie? You're not listen...

- Shut up, Cedric, and do as you're told!



   

                   

Nanny McPhee, we need you.



   

                   

- Nanny McPhee, please, we need you.

- [magical wind rushes]



   

                   

- Where is my hat?

- [donkey braying]



   

                   

[brays triumphantly]



   

                   

Hide!



   

                   

My hat!



   

                   

- How dare you!

- [creaking]



   

                   

- [crashing thud]

- [brays]



   

                   

[chuckles]



   

                   

- Oh, my, what a merry game.

- Yoo-hoo!



   

                   

My, my, what a pretty girl you are.



   

                   

[donkey whistles merry tune]



   

                   

Oh, this is the girl for me.



   

                   

Run.



   

                   

Such poise, such gaiety.



   

                   

- Ah, there you are, staff.

- Yes, madam.



   

                   

I'm taking this child with me. Get her ready.



   

                   

[blows smoochy kiss]



   

                   

Very well, madam.



   

                   

Sherry time.



   

                   

[magical breeze sighs]



   

                   

Do not forget that someone

has to go with your great-aunt



   

                   

and it cannot be the donkey, can it?



   

                   

[birds caw]



   

                   

[Tora] Well, I'm the eldest girl. I'll go.



   

                   

[Lily] No. I've always known

I was destined for tragedy. I'll go.



   

                   

[Aggy] Aggy go.



   

                   

[Eric] Don't be silly, Aggy.

You're not even a whole girl yet.



   

                   

[Chrissie] No. She wanted me. I'll go.



   

                   

[Sebastian] You can't all go.



   

                   

Well, I am entirely satisfied.



   

                   

I will keep my word, Cedric,

if you will keep yours.



   

                   

You must give those children a mother

before the month is out.



   

                   

No.



   

                   

What?



   

                   

You cannot order me around. And you

certainly can't take any of my children.



   

                   

- l...

- [magical breeze blows]



   

                   

Your carriage awaits, madam.



   

                   

Is the chosen one seated?



   

                   

- lndeed she is.

- Good.



   

                   

- All is prepared.

- Which chosen one? What's prepared?



   

                   

Cedric, in view of this afternoon's

happy outcome,



   

                   

I am willing to overlook

that last unattractive outburst.



   

                   

- Nanny McPhee.

- Off we go, Hewitt.



   

                   

- What have you done?

- I have done nothing, sir.



   

                   

The children have decided

amongst themselves.



   

                   

Decided what? What do you mean?



   

                   

[Adelaide] There you are, dear.



   

                   

- Not little Chrissie.

- [coachman cracks whip] Yah!



   

                   

Chrissie!



   

                   

- [coachman] Yah!

- [whinnying]



   

                   

Chrissie!



   

                   

Yah!



   

                   

Chrissie!



   

                   

Now, then, you'd better

tell me your name, little girl.



   

                   

[bleating]



   

                   

- [whip cracks]

- Yah!



   

                   

- Christianna!

- Don't be shy, my dear. What is your name?



   

                   

- [shrill whinny]

- Yah!



   

                   

Sit up straight and tell me your name.



   

                   

No!



   

                   

- Christianna!

- Papa!



   

                   

Papa! Papa!



   

                   

Oh! [murmurs]



   

                   

Then...then who...?



   

                   

Evangeline. My name's Evangeline.



   

                   

[crashing thud]



   

                   

- [magical wind blows]

- [chuckles]



   

                   

And what a pretty name it is, too.



   

                   

Evangeline...



   

                   

Oh.



   

                   

- [horse whinnies]

- Yah! Yah!



   

                   

[tinkling breeze blows]



   

                   

Time for bed.



   

                   

- Thank you for saving me, Nanny McPhee.

- Hm.



   

                   

Yes. Thank you.



   

                   

Thank you.



   

                   

- Thank you.

- Thank you.



   

                   

[magical breeze blows]



   

                   

Hm.



   

                   

Papa was going to let her take me.



   

                   

No, Christianna.

Your father would never have allowed it.



   

                   

- Goodnight, children.

- [children] Goodnight, Nanny McPhee.



   

                   

[magical breeze sighs]



   

                   

She hasn't got any warts at all now.



   

                   

Do you think she's using

some sort of cream?



   

                   

[clock chimes]



   

                   

[magical wind rushes]



   

                   

Thank you, Nanny McPhee.

You were a tremendous help.



   

                   

Not at all.



   

                   

You will find that lesson three,



   

                   

to get dressed when they're told,

is complete.



   

                   

Just to get dressed when they're told?

They've learned a great deal more than that.



   

                   

I have five lessons to teach.



   

                   

What lessons they learn is entirely

up to them. Goodnight, Mr Brown.



   

                   

- Nanny McPhee...

- Yes, Mr Brown?



   

                   

She will be all right, won't she?

Evangeline, I mean.



   

                   

I can't help being concerned.



   

                   

Aunt Adelaide can be so, erm...

Well, you saw.



   

                   

She will certainly be all right.



   

                   

Good.



   

                   

I suppose she volunteered to go, did she?

Couldn't wait to be shot of us, I imagine.



   

                   

Not quite.



   

                   

It was Simon's idea.



   

                   

He knew Evangeline

might like to educate herself



   

                   

and that her going would save Christianna.



   

                   

He's a very clever boy.



   

                   

Good heavens. Simon, eh?

Well, good for him. Quick...quick thinking.



   

                   

Goodnight, Mr Brown.



   

                   

[sighs deeply]



   

                   

So that's it, then.



   

                   

I shall have to marry...Quickly.



   

                   

[magical breeze zings and whooshes]



   

                   

[Sebastian laughs]



   

                   

[clears throat]



   

                   

Children, your father has asked me to tell you



   

                   

there's a Mrs Quickly coming for tea tomorrow.



   

                   

- Nanny McPhee?

- Yes, sweetheart?



   

                   

Can you stop Papa

from marrying a horrible stepmother?



   

                   

I'm afraid not.



   

                   

- Even if you wanted to?

- Even if I wanted to.



   

                   

I cannot interfere with affairs of the heart.



   

                   

Perhaps Simon could talk to him about it.



   

                   

He won't listen.



   

                   

[seagull cries]



   

                   

You have a visitor, Mr Brown.



   

                   

An especially eager visitor, Mr Brown.



   

                   

Quickly by name...



   

                   

Oh!



   

                   

Simon, my boy.



   

                   

Well, come in.



   

                   

Come on, I won't bite.



   

                   

- Father, we want to ask you something.

- Well, of course.



   

                   

Of course. Anything at all. Ask away.



   

                   

Who is Mrs Quickly?



   

                   

[chuckles feebly]

Good heavens, such a face. She's, er...



   

                   

She's...she's a friend. She's...a friend.



   

                   

Just a friend?



   

                   

Well, my boy,

it's not exactly any of your business, is it?



   

                   

It is if she's to be our new mother.



   

                   

Who said anything about that?



   

                   

It is true? You are going to marry her?



   

                   

You go too far, Simon.



   

                   

- You must not question...

- I didn't.



   

                   

- Don't contradict me!

- I'm not!



   

                   

You do not understand the adult world.



   

                   

You know, there are certain things that...



   

                   

certain things...



   

                   

You will leave me this instant. Go home!



   

                   

You never listen!



   

                   

[door slams]



   

                   

Nanny McPhee?



   

                   

Nanny McPhee?



   

                   

[creaking]



   

                   

[crystalline tinkling]



   

                   

[floorboard creaks]



   

                   

[crashing thud]



   

                   

Hello, Simon.



   

                   

Can I help you?



   

                   

I did knock.



   

                   

I know. I heard you.



   

                   

May I be of assistance?



   

                   

Er...



   

                   

We need you to, erm...



   

                   

I mean...you saved Chrissie.



   

                   

And so...



   

                   

You're on our side, is what I mean.



   

                   

Aren't you?



   

                   

You saved Chrissie, and I do not take sides.



   

                   

I...we... need you to help us

get rid of this woman, Mrs Quickly.



   

                   

It will not surprise you to hear

that I cannot agree to that, Simon.



   

                   

Then let us do whatever

we have to do to get rid of her.



   

                   

Are you prepared to accept

the consequences?



   

                   

Yes.



   

                   

- You promise?

- Yes. Yes, absolutely, I promise.



   

                   

Hm.



   

                   

Then I will, as you put it,

let you do whatever you have to do.



   

                   

Thank you.



   

                   

Thank you.



   

                   

- [honking]

- [screeches] Aaah!



   

                   

Look at them! Will you just look at them?



   

                   

Aw!



   

                   

The little, small things.



   

                   

Children, this is, er... Mrs Quickly.



   

                   

Oh, you mustn't be so formal.



   

                   

You must call me Auntie Selma.



   

                   

Oh, dear me, one does work up

such a thirst in this heat.



   

                   

Oh. Tea, of course. Do go through. I'll...



   

                   

And leave these dear creatures?

How can you ask it of me?



   

                   

- Oh, the heart of the house.

- Yes, yes.



   

                   

- The old bachelor's den.

- Mm.



   

                   

- Well, l...

- lsn't it enchanting?



   

                   

Ooh! Have you read all those books?



   

                   

- Well, l, er...

- Clever.



   

                   

- Take my chair. It's more comfortable.

- Thank you. Ooh!



   

                   

Well, what have we here?



   

                   

I see there is already provision for a lady.

How thoughtful you are.



   

                   

What a gentleman.



   

                   

Wait! Er...just let me

make it, er...comfy for you.



   

                   

Too, too precious.



   

                   

Here in the centre of the male dominion,



   

                   

- [boing!]

-..an oasis of feminine charm and elegance.



   

                   

There, just as I thought. It's dusty.

It just needs a good old thump.



   

                   

There. All thumped and ready to go.



   

                   

There you go again.

Nothing is too much trouble for you.



   

                   

I observed that very characteristic

on the sad day we buried Mr Quickly.



   

                   

Even in my demented grief,

I said to my friend Letitia Carter...



   

                   

Remember her? A pinker complexion

than my own. She takes too much sun.



   

                   

I said, "Kindness seems to be

second nature to him."



   

                   

"He is a perfect gentleman."



   

                   

"There's something so masculine

and yet retiring in his manner..."



   

                   

[squeals] Mr Brown!



   

                   

[she giggles]



   

                   

- Urgh.

- Un moment, I pray you.



   

                   

I don't know what came over me.



   

                   

I do. I understand. I never took you for such.



   

                   

But now I see it.

Passion is clearly your nature, too.



   

                   

I feel it. Who would have thought

we were such kindred spirits?



   

                   

Passion is my life.

In fact, Mr Brown, what is life without it?



   

                   

- Er...

- A grey wheel of habit, spinning idly on.



   

                   

- Mmm!

- [giggles]



   

                   

[Mrs Quickly] Mmm!



   

                   

- This is no time for food, Mrs Quickly...

- Selma.



   

                   

I couldn't possibly swallow it

under the circumstances.



   

                   

You are tempestuous, Mr Brown.



   

                   

- Tea?

- Yes, tea.



   

                   

We must blanket the raw impulse

with that reliable beverage.



   

                   

[croaks]



   

                   

That's a nice bit of porcelain. Is that Spode?

I like a bit of Spode. Tasteful.



   

                   

Anyway, so essential

for upholding the normal...



   

                   

- You don't want that.

- How right you are.



   

                   

You see into my inmost self.



   

                   

What is tea when we can drink

from the nectar of our emotions?



   

                   

Let the common herd drink tea.



   

                   

Our souls need a more divine libation!



   

                   

- [wibbling]

- Whoa...whoo-ow!



   

                   

Oh! You mad fool! I say.



   

                   

No, no, not here amongst the cutlery.



   

                   

- I say! [giggles]

- [rattling]



   

                   

I must go before my reputation

is in tatters on this rug.



   

                   

Lovely rug. Is it Chinese silk?



   

                   

Must escape before all is lost.



   

                   

Wait!



   

                   

Heavens to Betsy! You are inflamed!



   

                   

How does a lonely widow best you?

What defences does she have?



   

                   

All it takes is one question, Cedric,

and I'm yours.



   

                   

- Ask me or you'll lose me forever.

- Oh, no... Absolutely.



   

                   

[Mrs Quickly] Say it. Say it.



   

                   

- Say it. Say it.

- No!



   

                   

Oh! No! This is too much, sir!



   

                   

You are a cad!



   

                   

A bounder and a cad! [sobs]



   

                   

- [children giggle]

- Yeah!



   

                   

[Simon] Papa's coming.



   

                   

She's gone.



   

                   

The only person in the whole world

who stands between all of us



   

                   

and total ruin...



   

                   

and she's gone.



   

                   

What's ruin?



   

                   

There's no time to mince words.

I can't support my own family.



   

                   

I never have been able to.

There are so many of you.



   

                   

But you're all so delicious.



   

                   

When Aggy came along

and your mother was so ill, I said,



   

                   

"We may have to stop now, dear,"

and she said...



   

                   

She said, "l know."



   

                   

The fact of the matter is,

your Great-Aunt Adelaide



   

                   

has been supporting us for years

with a monthly allowance.



   

                   

A little while ago, she told me



   

                   

that I had to remarry

or the allowance would stop.



   

                   

This woman today was my last chance.



   

                   

Our last chance.



   

                   

Ours?



   

                   

When the money stops,

the house will be taken.



   

                   

Some of you will perhaps

be put into the workhouse.



   

                   

Some will be put into the care...

into the care of others.



   

                   

I don't know how many of you

will be allowed to stay together.



   

                   

I'm sorry to have failed you, children.



   

                   

You deserve so much better.



   

                   

- Do something.

- What would you suggest?



   

                   

Change what happened.

Bang your stick. Make it undo itself.



   

                   

I cannot. These were your actions.



   

                   

Simon promised that you would

accept the consequences.



   

                   

What shall we do?

Help us. Tell us what to do.



   

                   

- You must undo it for yourselves.

- How? How?



   

                   

Think.



   

                   

You are very clever, children.



   

                   

Think.



   

                   

[women cackle with laughter]



   

                   

- So, 'e was keen?

- Oh, Letty, he was in a maddened condition.



   

                   

He couldn't keep his hands off me.

But I held firm.



   

                   

I said, "Shedric..." I mean, "Cedric,

I have my reputation to uphold."



   

                   

"It's marriage or nothing.

What do you take me for?"



   

                   

- [knocking]

- "Some common...?"



   

                   

- Tart?

- Not for me. I'm bloated.



   

                   

- No. "Some common tart." You said...

- [knocking]



   

                   

- Who's that knocking?

- [lamb bleats]



   

                   

- It might be him.

- Ooh!



   

                   

If you've come to fumble

with my fastenings... Oh.



   

                   

[rattle jingles]



   

                   

Mrs Quickly, we're very sorry about the tea

you had with our father.



   

                   

Typical of a man, sending his little ones

to do the dirty work.



   

                   

No. He doesn't know we're...



    

                   

I mean, he very much wants to marry you.



    

                   

I know what he wanted.

No wonder there's so many of you (!)



    

                   

Wait. Father wasn't being rude.

No one on earth could be less rude.



    

                   

He was protecting you from

the naughty things we were doing.



    

                   

- The toad in the teapot.

- And the wormy sandwiches.



    

                   

That was my idea! I mean, my fault.



    

                   

I have no idea to what you can be referring.



    

                   

Don't try to make excuses for him.

He's a flounder and a gad.



    

                   

He's not. He's a good man.

He was just trying to save us.



    

                   

If he doesn't marry, all the money will go.

We'll be thrown out onto the streets.



    

                   

- Money? What money?

- Our Great-Aunt Adelaide's money.



    

                   

Lady Adelaide Stitch.



    

                   

Lady? Ooh!



    

                   

- Mr Brown.

- Mrs Quickly.



    

                   

- Your children have explained it all.

- Explained?



    

                   

That their tricks during tea was a result

of their motherless condition,



    

                   

that they need a woman's presence

to calm them,



    

                   

and that you could benefit from that presence,



    

                   

pathetic and lonely as you are.



    

                   

And all it takes is one little question, Cedric.

[clears throat]



    

                   

Oh. Oh, y... er...yes, of course.



    

                   

Erm...just give me...Yes.



    

                   

- Mrs Quickly...

- [whispers] Selma.



    

                   

Yes, I mean Selma.



    

                   

Would you do me the honour

of becoming my...



    

                   

-..of becoming my...

- Wife.



    

                   

- Exactly. Wife. That's the word.

- Yes. Oh, yes, Cedric.



    

                   

Mmm.... mwa!



    

                   

Off you go now, dears.



    

                   

Let Daddy have a little moment to himself

with your new mummy.



    

                   

(Nanny McPhee) A bit big for this nightie, aren't

you, sweetheart? We'll have a new one made.



    

                   

I'm sorry.



    

                   

I should have told you. I can see that now.



    

                   

If I'd discussed it with you before,

we wouldn't be in this mess.



    

                   

No, it was our fault.



    

                   

We should have known you had

a good reason for getting married.



    

                   

At least this way, we'll all be together.

That's what matters most, isn't it? Hm?



    

                   

I promise I'll never hide anything

that affects us from you again.



    

                   

I see you're more than capable

of understanding it.



    

                   

- Papa?

- Yes, my boy?



    

                   

Do you think Mama still thinks about us

where she is?



    

                   

I'm sure she does.



    

                   

I know she does.



    

                   

Now, Chrissie,

why don't you choose us a story?



    

                   

[woman]  Tiptoe by



    

                   

-  Where my babies lie...

- Lesson four is complete.



    

                   

 In your tiny silver shoon...



    

                   

Lesson four?



    

                   

To listen.



    

                   

Well done.



    

                   

 Will you watch over, please



    

                   

 My wee ones



    

                   

 My lambkins



    

                   

 My sweet chick-a-chickadees



    

                   

 Loola-bye, oh, loola-bye



    

                   

 In your tiny silver shoon 



    

                   

- [church bells ring]

- [lamb bleats]



    

                   

[Mrs Quickly] The big day.

I do love my weddings.



    

                   

Mr Brown. What's he really like?



    

                   

No idea. Keen as mustard

to tie the knot, though.



    

                   

Had to sort this out quick.

Only got the sheep dipped yesterday.



    

                   

But he's easily controlled,

unlike his nasty little brood.



    

                   

However will you manage them, Selma?



    

                   

I've got a few tricks up my sleeve.

Never you mind.



    

                   

I started off by giving them a good clean-up.



    

                   

Oh, don't they look lovely?



    

                   

Sebastian, your top button is undone.



    

                   

Lily, you have a little hair caught

in your crook. Eric, help her, please.



    

                   

Your father will be down in a moment.



    

                   

Now, that is an improvement.

Letty, go and keep a lookout.



    

                   

I say, whatever your name is,



    

                   

give me a second on my own

with the little darlings?



    

                   

Now, my dears, there's going to be

some changes made round here.



    

                   

I'm in charge of this household now



    

                   

and while I'm in charge,

you children will behave.



    

                   

Do you hear? Behave.



    

                   

- [Aggy jingles rattle]

- Behave.



    

                   

And we're not having any of that nasty noise

all the way through my nice wedding.



    

                   

- [grizzles uncertainly, then sobs]

- Shut her up.



    

                   

Naughty.



    

                   

It's our mother's rattle. Give it back.



    

                   

I'm your mother now.



    

                   

Time to adapt.



    

                   

- [magical breeze sighs]

- Hm.



    

                   

[footsteps]



    

                   

- Papa, Mrs Quickly...

- Sh!



    

                   

Yoo-hoo, Cedric.



    

                   

I realise the bride and groom

shouldn't meet until the ceremony,



    

                   

- but you and I are old hands at this.

- [hoofbeats]



    

                   

- [horse whinnies]

- She's here! Lady Stitch!



    

                   

Selma, there's footmen.



    

                   

- [Cook sputters] Oi, make way!

- [Letty squeaks]



    

                   

Where's the woman?



    

                   

- Aunt Adelaide...

- Shut up! Where's the woman, Cedric?



    

                   

May I present my...fiancee, Selma Quickly.

Selma, this is Lady Stitch.



    

                   

Your Ladyness. Welcome, if I may be so bold,



    

                   

to our humble, nay, lowly festivities.



    

                   

You shower glory upon us from above.



    

                   

The very air about you shines with...



    

                   

with...with aboveness.



    

                   

A gracious welcome, I must say.

Rise, my dear.



    

                   

Here are the children

in their, erm...shepherdess outfits.



    

                   

Well, that's the girls.

The boys... I'm not sure what they are.



    

                   

But, erm...anyway, you can see.



    

                   

Oh, keep up, will you?



    

                   

[whispers] Who's that?



    

                   

- It's a princess.

- A fairy princess.



    

                   

It's Evangeline.



    

                   

Straight back. Remember your vowels.



    

                   

May I present my adopted daughter,

Miss Evangeline Stitch.



    

                   

What are we doing milling about

in this dreary vestibule?



    

                   

Sherry this instant.



    

                   

Might I beg the honour of pouring

the privileged schooners myself?



    

                   

[perfectly plummy]

Delectable to see you again, madam.



    

                   

Blinkin' hell!



    

                   

And how nice to see the young people.



    

                   

Welcome back, Evangeline.

You look well. Are you well?



    

                   

I am most content.



    

                   

You must be very happy

to be marrying again.



    

                   

Oh, yes, I'm... I'm...

How did you put it? Most content.



    

                   

Of course. Good grief.



    

                   

I am so glad.



    

                   

- [Adelaide] Evangeline!

- [bell jangles]



    

                   

Pray excuse me.



    

                   

Are you sure it's Evangeline?

It doesn't look anything like her.



    

                   

Nonsense. She's always looked like that.



    

                   

[they play  Here Comes The Bride]



    

                   

[bleating]



    

                   

[hums along]



    

                   

What can we do?

There has to be another way.



    

                   

- Behave.

- Beehive.



    

                   

You must do as you're told.



    

                   

- Behave.

- Beehive.



    

                   

Lesson number five, Simon.

You must do exactly as you're told.



    

                   

[violins crescendo]



    

                   

Beehive.



    

                   

Beehive?



    

                   

Please be seated.



    

                   

There isn't a beehive. What do you mean?



    

                   

Dearly beloved, we are gathered here together



    

                   

in the sight of God

and in the face of this congregation



    

                   

to join together this man and this woman



    

                   

in holy matrimony,



    

                   

which is an honourable estate

instituted of God



    

                   

in the time of man's innocence...



    

                   

..and commended of St Paul...



    

                   

- [children] Bzzzzzz!

-..to be honoured among all men.



    

                   

Get off!



    

                   

- And is therefore...

- Get off!



    

                   

-.. not by any man to be enterprised...

- There's one on you!



    

                   

.. nor taken in hand unadvisedly,

lightly, wantonly...



    

                   

- There's one on your back!

-..to satisfy man's carnal lusts...



    

                   

It's the flowers on her dress!

They're attracting them!



    

                   

- I hate bees. I'm allergic.

- There aren't any bees, you fool!



    

                   

No, truly, I swell up.



    

                   

[hisses] They're trying to ruin

my lovely wedding. Nasty, vicious creatures.



    

                   

- Do something!

- [children buzz energetically]



    

                   

Cedric, look at me. Do you see any bees?



    

                   

[other children buzzing]



    

                   

I said, look at me!

Do you see any bees? Do you?



    

                   

- Do you?

- I do.



    

                   

- Ooaah!

- It's all right. I've got the little bugger.



    

                   

[yelps] It's on me!



    

                   

- [gasps]

- Lord love a duck! I'm so dreadfully sorry!



    

                   

[children giggle]



    

                   

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



    

                   

- [children laugh]

- Oh, my Lord. Your Higherness!



    

                   

[gasps]



    

                   

[both laugh uproariously]



    

                   

- [Cook] Don't touch the cake!

- Get the tarts!



    

                   

- Not me good ones!

- [Lily] Ow, he hit me!



    

                   

- [Lily] Attack!

- Aaargh!



    

                   

Not the cake! Not the cake!



    

                   

Right! I'll have the lot of you!



    

                   

Simon, bowling practice.



    

                   

- [gasps]

- [whooping and shouting]



    

                   

Evangeline, where are your manners?



    

                   

Sod my manners, you old trout.



    

                   

This is the first fun I've had in weeks!



    

                   

- Oh, Lord.

- Letty, my hair. Where is it?



    

                   

[as Mrs Quickly]

"Look at them, the little, small things."



    

                   

That's it! You dreadful, awful,

monstrous creatures!



    

                   

Take your hands off my children!



    

                   

Cedric, it's over! I won't spend

another minute with this rabble



    

                   

and I don't care how much

the old hag is giving you.



    

                   

Letty, the lambs!



    

                   

- [lambs bleat]

- [Letty whimpers]



    

                   

- This dress is ruined!

- Absolute carnage!



    

                   

A nice choice for a wife, I must say, Cedric.



    

                   

I'm sorry. You gave me no time

to find anyone else.



    

                   

As for your children, a lengthy spell

in a corrective institution is long overdue.



    

                   

And you, Evangeline, I can see

that you are as wild as the rest of them.



    

                   

And proud to be. I love them, Lady Stitch,

which is more than you do.



    

                   

Insolence!



    

                   

I'd leave you here to rot,

but I gave my word that I would raise you



    

                   

and I never, ever, break my word.

Come away now.



    

                   

[magical tinkling]



    

                   

Wait, Aunt Adelaide! Wait!



    

                   

You agreed. You gave your word



    

                   

that if our father remarried this month,

you'd support us.



    

                   

I did.



    

                   

So if he marries today,

you'll have to keep your word.



    

                   

- Oh, you're wasting my time!

- No.



    

                   

No. No, I'm not.



    

                   

- He will marry today.

- What?



    

                   

- What?

- What?



    

                   

What?



    

                   

- Who?

- He'll marry Evangeline.



    

                   

Incest?



    

                   

No! No, Aunt Adelaide.

Evangeline isn't our sister.



    

                   

- Not your sister?

- Of course she's not our sister.



    

                   

Well, who is she, then?



    

                   

I'm his scullery maid.



    

                   

What?



    

                   

Evangeline, do you love Papa?



    

                   

Of course not. I know my place.

That wouldn't be right. I mean...



    

                   

Yes.



    

                   

Papa, do you love Evangeline?



    

                   

What? That would be totally improper.



    

                   

A thing like that could...could never happen.

I mean, obviously...



    

                   

Yes.



    

                   

He's marrying the scullery maid?



    

                   

Oh!



    

                   

- [thump]

- [magical tinkling]



    

                   

[creaking]



    

                   

- [crashing thud]

- [magical wind zings and whistles]



    

                   

[child] It's snowing!



    

                   

Well, I never! Snow!



    

                   

Snow in August!



    

                   

- [children laugh]

- I take it, then, Mr Brown,



    

                   

that the young lady

is not in fact the fruit of your loins?



    

                   

Because the Church would have to take

a rather dim view of it if she were.



    

                   

No. What happened was my son Simon

is a very clever boy.



    

                   

Evangeline...



    

                   

for the record,

whatever I may have said about stepmothers,



    

                   

that whole "evil breed" moment,



    

                   

most emphatically does not apply to you.



    

                   

This way.



    

                   

Jolly good. If I may then invite you all

to join us once more.



    

                   

Hallelujah.



    

                   

Oh, Nanny McPhee... I'm so nervous.



    

                   

Deep breaths.



    

                   

I don't look much like a bride, do l?



    

                   

You will.



    

                   

[magical breeze fizzes and tinkles]



    

                   

How's the reading coming along?



    

                   

It's much better.



    

                   

But I still haven't got to the end

of that story.



    

                   

No need. You are the end of the story.



    

                   

[parps nose mightily]



    

                   

Dearly beloved, we are gathered together



    

                   

to join together this man and this woman



    

                   

in holy matrimony.



    

                   

Make a loud noise and rejoice



    

                   

and sing praise.



    

                   

- [tinkling of bells]

- [rushing]



    

                   

[Nanny McPhee] There is something

you should understand about the way I work.



    

                   

When you need me but do not want me,

then I must stay.



    

                   

When you want me but no longer need me,



    

                   

then I have to go.



    

                   

[magical tinkling]



    

                   

- [creaking]

- [mighty thud]



    

                   

[rubbery squeaking]



    

                   

[boing!]



    

                   

[squeaking]



    

                   

[boing!]



    

                   

[bubbling]



    

                   

[boing!]



    

                   

[creaking]



    

                   

[mighty thud]



    

                   

[rubbery squeaks and stretching]



    

                   

[sloppy splotching]



    

                   

[boing!]



    

                   

- [rubbery stretching]

- [squelch]



    

                   

[gloopy bubbling]



    

                   

[boing!]



    

                   

[boings]



    

                   

[buzzing]



    

                   

[croaks]



    

                   

[croaks]



    

                   

[rubbery stretching]



    

                   

Yoo-hoo!



    

                   

[magical tinkling]



    

                   

- [creaking]

- [mighty thud]



    

                   

[breeze sighs and fades away]



    

                   

[creaking]



    

                   

- [crashing thud]

- [magical breeze sighs]











  

 
Special help by SergeiK