Voila! Finally, the The Ruling Class
script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the Peter O'Toole
movie. This script is a transcript that was painstakingly
transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of The Ruling Class. 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.
My lords, gentlemen,
pray silence for Ralph Douglas Christopher Alexander Gurney,
the 13th earl of Gurney.
The aim of the Society of St. George...
is to keep green the memory of England.
We were once the rulers...
of the greatest empire the world has ever known!
- Hear, hear! - Ruled not by superior force or skill,
but by sheer presence.
So I give you England.
This teeming womb of privilege.
This feudal state...
whose shores beat back the turbulent sea of foreign anarchy.
This ancient fortress,
still commanded by the noblest of our royal blood.
This ancient land of ritual.
This precious stone...
set in the silver sea.
The toast is "England. This precious stone...
set in the silver sea."
England. Set in the silver sea.
God save our gracious Queen
Scatter Her enemies
And make them fall
Confound their politics
Frustrate their knavish tricks
On Thee our hopes we fix
God save the Queen
Ah, thank you, Tuck.
How was your speech, my lord?
Went well, Tuck.
Englishmen like to hear the truth about themselves.
He's back, Claire.
Claire! I said, Ralph is back.
Thank you, Charles. I'll have a vodka and tonic.
I say, guv'nor, the guv'nor is back.
Mummy, I was just telling the guv'nor that the guv'nor is back.
Charles! With ice.
I'm repeating myself, calling the guv'nor the guv'nor and Daddy the guv'nor as well.
- Tucker, I'm getting married again. - Very good, my lord.
Miss Grace Shelley. Charles is right.
Been putting it off. Sake of the family.
This house... used to be full of mischief.
Four young devils.
Thought I was safe enough.
Master Paul would have been the 14th earl.
District officer at 21.
Dead at 23. Beriberi.
Picked it up off some scruffy fuzzy-wuzzy in dressing gown.
Shouldn't wonder, eh?
Master Richard used to play the xylophone.
And young Raymond, killed in Malaya.
Not one of them buried in England.
Never seen their graves.
You could do that on your honeymoon, my lord.
Hmm, there's stillJack.
It's all based on land, Tuck.
Can't have those knaves from Whitehall moving in.
So it's Miss Grace Shelley.
Is she anyone, my lord?
No one. But Charles recommends her as good breeding stock.
Family foals well. Sires, mostly.
There's always room at the top for brains, money or a good pair of titties.
Miss Shelley seems well endowed, my lord.
Oh, the guv'nor loved this bed.
Took it all over the world with him.
Devilish great man, the guv'nor. Superb shot.
Did wonderful needlework too.
What do you got there, hmm?
Oh, yes. Why not?
Hard day. Need to relax.
Might I suggest the silk tonight, sir?
Good idea, Tuck.
For St. George, eh?
Ah, Tuck, there's no end to duty.
The law has been my life, Tuck.
Ajudge can't be unreasonable...
so how can he be a lover, eh?
Ours is a damned dry world, Tuck.
A long life and a gray one, my lord.
The power of life and death.
Ajudge has no need for other vices.
Once you put on a black cap, everything else tastes like wax fruit.
Uh, noose a bit high, Tuck. Bring it down half an inch.
Will that be all, my lord?
A whiskey and soda in about five minutes, as usual.
Oh, Tuck, I shan't be dining tonight.
Tell cook the trial ends tomorrow,
so I shall be wanting one of her extra-large breakfasts in the morning.
She knows I don't like passing sentence on an empty stomach.
- Very good, my lord. - Thank you, Tuck.
Nothing like a good English breakfast.
Big meal of the day for the guv'nor.
Always read The Times through first...
in case there was anything too disturbing in it.
Mother never knew what the word "socialist" meant till she was past 50.
Remember standing at the foot of the bed there...
telling them I wanted to be a painter.
"The Gurneys have never been slackers," he said.
"Earned their privileges."
Great concession letting me study law.
Not the Gurney tradition, no. Always the army.
Feet, feet, feet The boys are marching
A little more grapeshot, Captain Bragg.
Give 'em a touch of the cold steel, boys.
Close. It's getting close.
I can feel her hot breath. Wonderful, wonderful.
One slip. Wonderful. The worms have the best of it.
They dine off the tenderest joints. Juicy breasts, white thighs.
'Tis a far, far better thing I do now than I've ever done.
No, sir, no bandage. Die, my dear doctor?
Oh, that is the last thing I shall do.
Is that you, my love? Come to me.
Touched him. Saw her.
Towers of death and silence.
Angels of fire and ice. Saw Alexander...
covered with honey and beeswax in his tomb.
Felt the flowers growing over me.
Oh, a man must have vision.
How else could an English judge, and peer of the realm...
take moonlit trips to Marrakesh and Ponders End?
See six vestal virgins smoking cigars?
Moses in bedroom slippers?
Naked bosoms floating past Formosa?
Just time for a quick one.
Be of good cheer, Master Ridley,
and play the man.
There's plenty of time to win this game...
and beat the Spaniards too.
Form squares, men!
Smash the Mahdi... and Binnie Barnes!
- Are you ready, Your Lordship?
Bleeding bloody hell.
"I am the resurrection and the life, "sayeth the Lord.
"He that believeth in me...
though he were dead, yet shall he live.
And whomsoever liveth and believeth in me...
shall never die.
Gilead is mine and Manasses is mine.
Ephraim also is the strength of my head.
Judah is my lawgiver...
and Moab is my washpot.
Over Edom will I cast out my shoe...
and upon Philistria will I triumph.
Who will lead me into the strong city...
and who will bring me into Edom?"
All things bright and beautiful
All creatures great and small
All things wise and wonderful
The Lord God made them all
An excellent service, Bertie. Created exactly the right impression.
Damned if I could understand a word of it.
I hardly expected you to, my boy.
Charles, I must have a word with you.
Charles, you see, this was a service...
which I could not have conducted for someone who may have laid...
vi-violent hands upon himself.
Wait, Charles. A disturbing rumor has reached me.
Tell me, did Ralph commit suicide?
Suicide? Tucker found Ralph hanging in his bedroom...
wearing a cocked hat, underpants and a ballet skirt.
- Does that sound like suicide? - Oh, no, no, it does not.
But l-l-I had to be sure, Charles. After all, he...
well, he is buried in consecrated ground.
I must say, it's damned odd to find Uncle Ralph...
hanging around like that in a ballet skirt.
Charles, didn't you say Ralph was always rather... artistic?
He was willful, stubborn, and this time he went too far.
But he was my brother. Well, half brother.
I will not have you calling him artistic.
Cocked hat. Cocked hat. You said cocked hat, Charles.
Wh-Why was Ralph wearing a cocked hat?
Trying it on for size, obviously.
I told him not to remain a widower.
The guv'nor didn't have to start breeding again.
It was not pleasant for a man of Ralph's age,
but that was something he had to get on top of.
Underpants. Wh-Why was...
Why was he... Why was he... Why was he in his underpants, Charles?
Well, he was in his bedroom, wasn't he?
I thought all our troubles would be over...
when he took a fancy to young Grace Shelley.
- That would have solved everything. - Yes, wouldn't it just?
I do not know what all the bother is about.
Uncle Ralph has got an heir: Jack, the 14th earl.
Yes, there's always Jack.
Yes, it's gonna be awkward. Damned awkward.
Well, Ralph knew the situation. I'm sure he's made proper arrangements.
It's simply a matter of finding out who he's made legal guardian of the estate.
What on earth was he doing in a ballet skirt, Charles? Answer me that.
A Mr. Matthew Peake to see you, Sir Charles.
Thank you, Tucker. Come on in, Peake.
I believe you know everyone here.
I have that honor, Sir Charles.
All right, that's all, Tucker. We're not to be disturbed.
Uh, might I suggest, Sir Charles, that Tucker stays?
Well, Tucker, it seems you're going to hear something to your advantage.
- Yes. - Do sit down, Tucker.
Thank you, madame.
May I take this opportunity to express my condolences?
Yes, yes, but do get on with it.
But, Sir Charles, shouldn't we wait?
- I mean, His Lordship's heir. - He's been notified.
Wasn't able to get away for the funeral, so he's not likely to come now.
Very well. I will inform him later.
"I, Ralph Douglas Christopher Alexander Gurney...
of Gurney House in the county of Bedfordshire,
hereby revoke all former wills and codicils and declare this to be my last will.
I appoint Mr. Matthew Peake of 17 Brownlow Gardens, Bedfordshire,
to be the sole executor of my will.
I give and bequeath unto my manservant, Daniel Tucker...
the sum of £30,000 free of duty."
- What? - Thirty thousand?
There follow a number of bequests to various charities.
I'll run through them briefly.
I bequeath the sum of £5,000 to the Tail Wavers Registered National Charity,
£3,000 to the Bankers Benificent Society, Limited...
Thirty-thousand smackers! Yippee!
I'm Gilbert the Filbert The Knut with a "K"
The pride of Piccadilly The blase roue
Oh, Hades, the ladies who leave their wooden hats
For Gilbert the Filbert The colonel of the Knuts
I say, Tucker seems a bit hit up.
So are the ways of everyone, my boy, who is greedy of gain.
Now then, Peake, what about the Zambezi Mission?
And what about the Overseas Bishoprics Fund?
- Oh, never mind about them, Bertie! - Charles, the Zambezi...
What about the estate?
"I devise and bequeath the remainder of my estate, both real and personal,
whatsoever and wheresoever to which I might be entitled...
or over which I have any disposing at the time of my death...
to my beloved son, Jack Arnold Alexander Tancred Gurney...
the 14th earl of Gurney, for his own use absolutely. "
For his own use absolutely?
Well, who's been appointed legal guardian?
By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down. Yea, we wept...
You mean Jack's free to run the estate and everything?
Jack'll cheer up the House of Lords.
Oh, Ralph obviously let his personal feelings come before his duty to his family.
Well, we'll just have to fight. Awkward.
There's bound to be a scandal, but there's no choice.
"If this will be contested in any way,
the whole of my estate, both real and personal,
is bequeathed to the charities herewith: The Earl Haig Fund..."
- It's disgraceful! - May God forgive him.
How bizarre. What a macabre sense of humor.
- But, Father, I don't understand. - You ask him to explain before he explodes.
Blast you, there's land at stake here, Gurney land!
- I'm completely in the fog. - When were you not?
I don't understand what...
Ladies and gentlemen, the queen's right trusty and well-beloved cousin,
Jack Arnold Alexander Tancred Gurney,
14th earl of Gurney.
I'm sorry I wasn't here before. I received the news only yesterday.
I'm afraid our little community is somewhat cut off.
I hope you'll forgive me. I know he will.
I've just been to his grave.
Thank you, Uncle Charles, for making all the arrangements.
Aunt Claire, you haven't changed.
You must be Dinsdale.
Yes, I suppose I must be. How do you do?
Are you still angry with me, Bishop?
Let me put your minds at rest.
I'm coming back to take my place in the world.
The monastic ideal isn't easy. I've had many broken nights.
But I'm coming back refreshed, though hardly equipped for society.
I shall need your help, Charles.
Come. We're all one family. Let's wash away the old sores.
If the bishop doesn't mind, I think we should pray.
- Pray? - For love and understanding.
Surely you pray for love and understanding?
Every night... without success.
- You too, my son. - I'm a Methodist.
I'm sure you're still a Christian. Come.
Yes, my lord.
A prayer should rise up like incense.
A prayer is an act of faith and union.
To pray means to ask, to beg, to plead.
A prayer is a message to heaven. You are talking directly to God.
Express your desires freely. Don't be afraid.
I know them already.
For I am the creator and ruler of the universe.
Khoda, the one supreme being and infinite personal being.
Yaweh, Shangri-Ti and EI,
the First Immoveable Mover, yea,
I am the Absolute, Unknowable, Righteous, Eternal,
the Lord of Hosts, King of Kings, Lord of Lords,
the Father, Son and Holy Ghost,
the One True God, the God of love,
His Lordship is a paranoid schizophrenic.
Paranoid schizophrenic? But he's a Gurney.
Then he's a paranoid schizophrenic Gurney who believes he's God.
But we've always been Church of England.
His idea of the world we live in...
is determined solely by his feelings.
What he feels is, is.
If my nephew is bonkers, why the blazes did you let him out?
He's a voluntary patient in a private clinic, free to go whenever he chooses.
His father insisted on no official certification.
If you want him detained here permanently, you must bring him before the Board of Control...
or get a master in lunacy to sign an order.
Later, after we've got a few things settled.
From a medical point of view,
a plunge into the working world won't do the earl any harm.
Won't do him any harm? What about the rest of us?
He's not dangerous. Besides, I shall be on hand.
It'll be an interesting experiment.
A harsh dose of reality can help towards a cure.
Cure! You've had him here for seven years. Look at him.
What have you been doing?
Exercising patience and understanding,
something he'll need from his family.
Yes, but why haven't you used the knife?
Because lobotomy is irrelevant and dangerous in this case.
He can't forget being rejected by his mother and father at the age of 11.
They sent him away, alone...
into a primitive community of licensed bullies and pederasts.
- You mean he went to public school? - Exactly.
I'm aware of psychotherapy's messy inadequacies,
but I hope that my current research will put it all...
on a more scientific basis.
But it depends on my getting a Guldenheim grant.
Well, never mind about that. What aboutJack?
Remember he's suffering from delusions of grandeur.
In reality, he's an earl, an English aristocrat,
a member of the ruling class.
Naturally he's come to believe there's only one person grander than that:
The Lord God Almighty Himself.
- Are you English? - No.
What's all this, then?
It's His Lordship's effects. Sign here, please.
If I saw a man eating grass, I'd say he was hungry.
They'd have him certified.
They claim that snow is only precipitation and not candied dew.
Whroom! I'm always thinking so fast.
Whroom! Space and time exist only within the walls of my brain.
Whroom! What I'm trying to say...
is if the words sound queer or funny to your ear,
a little bit jumbled up and jivey,
sing mares eat oats and does eat oats and little lambs eat ivy.
Ivy, ivy? Who's Ivy? I've... I, l...
For I'm the Lord Jesus come again in my own body...
to heal the sick, the troubled and the ignorant.
I am he that liveth, and behold, I am alive for everyone.
Is everybody happy? Now hear this.
I come to proclaim the new dispensation.
The gospel dispensation promised only salvation to the soul.
The new dispensation gives it to the body as well.
Jesus Christ... Mark l... suffered to redeem the spirit...
to let the body separate it from God.
So Satan found the place in man and formed in him a false love, a love of self.
Explode! Only feel.
Love can sin no more.
Most anything you touch, see and feel glorifies my love.
Top hat is my miter, and the walking stick my rod.
Once I get started, it's... it's terribly difficult to stop.
- I'm so sorry. - No, no, no, no.
It's fascinating. How do you know you're God?
Simple. When I pray to Him, I find I'm talking to myself.
I see. Well, how did it happen?
How did you come to be in this state of grace?
Like every prophet, I saw visions, heard voices, I ran.
The voices of St. Francis, Socrates, General Gordon and Timothy O'Leary...
all told me I was God.
It was Sunday, August 25, at 3:32.
I heard a terrible thunderclap and saw a body of light...
like the light from the sun and red as fire.
I cried, "Hallelujah, Lord. What will You do?"
And the light vanished.
Blackness and darkness...
until a great brush dipped in light swept across the sky,
and I saw the diversity, distinction and variety...
all clearly rolled up into the unity...
of universal love.
- Where did all this happen? - East Acton, outside the public urinal.
What does it feel like to be God?
Like a river flowing everywhere.
I pick up a newspaper, and I'm everywhere...
conducting a summit conference, dying of hunger in a Peruvian gutter,
accepting the Nobel Prize for literature, raping a nun in Sumatra.
Under this protective outer shell...
Your Lordship, Sir Cha... One moment.
- What the... - I haven't finished yet.
Sir Charles Gurney, my lord.
- Insolent clown. - I heard that, Sir Charles.
The world's gone mad. He'll have to go.
Hadn't we better wait? Somebody new mightn't understand the situation.
Why is he hanging on with 30,000 in the bank?
- Out of love. - Love? Tucker? Rot.
There are certain matters to do with the estate that need clearing up.
Nothing important. Just need your signature.
- Gives me power to handle odd things. - Of course, Uncle.
There's no need to read it. Just take my word.
I take your word. I put on my glasses because I feel cold.
- Where do I sign? - Just there.
Excellent, excellent. Easily done, eh?
"I, the undersigned, Mycroft Holmes"?
Who's Mycroft Holmes?
Brother of Sherlock Holmes, you illiterate oaf.
- But your name's Jack. - Never call me that!
Jack's a word I reject absolutely.
It's a word I put into my galvanized pressure cooker.
Whreeep! Jack's dead.
All right, all right. What should we call you then?
Any of the nine billion names of God...
Your Lordship will do, orJ.C., Eric, Bert, Barney Entwistle.
I know exactly who I am.
- You asked for these, my lord. - Burn them, Mr. Tucker, burn them.
But great Scott, man. These are your coronation robes.
A lot of tradition here, my lord.
The axe must be laid to the root, Uncle Charles.
Pride and riches, pomp and property, all must be locked off.
Love makes all men equal.
I love you dearly, Uncle Charles.
Keep them, if you feel so lost.
Join me in a constitutional before lunch, Mr. Tucker?
Enjoy yourselves while I'm gone. Relax. Have sex.
No, no, no. Nothing.
Well? You heard what he said, Charles.
Destroying property. All men are equal.
Do you know what this means, Claire?
He's not only mad, he's Bolshie!
Smell the soul dust from the lawns and hedgerows.
Oh, what a beautiful day I've made.
Look. Soft thistle and nigella.
No water in days? Sorry.
Can't think of everything. I'll see to it.
Remember the Sunday picnics, Mr. Tucker?
The world was all top hats and white lace.
And the best heavy silverware.
- A snort, Your Lordship? - Thank you.
If only I knew then who I was now.
Mmm, Mr. Grasshopper.
Of course I bless you, you cherub,
along with J. Edgar Hoover.
This is the first chance I've had of speaking to you alone.
- Be on your guard, sir. - You puzzle me, Mr. Tucker.
The family... I've seen them at work before.
They got the power. They make the rules.
Back there, they're plotting against you like mad.
Love cannot doubt nor faith the mustard seed.
"Plotting" is a word I put into my galvanized pressure cooker.
Vroooom! It's gone.
Feeling persecuted is one of the signs of paranoid schizophrenia.
Many poor wretches in Dr. Herder's dancing academy suffered from same.
"I am being watched," they said. "Everybody is against me," they cried.
You've set up profound negative reactions with your Kremlin plots.
I'm leaving you.
Resist it, Mr. Tucker. That way madness lies.
That's the thanks you get. He's the same as all the rest.
What he doesn't want to be so just isn't so.
No skin off my nose. My 30,000's safe.
And I deserve every last penny of it.
And more, and more and more!
What's keeping you then, Dan? Be honest now, Daniel.
Fear. Fear and habit.
You get into the habit of serving.
Born a servant, see. Son of a servant.
Family of servants. From a nation of servants!
The first thing an Englishman does, straight from his mother's womb, is touch his forelock.
That's how they can tell the wrinkled little bastard's English.
They don't know about me.
A lot they don't know about Daniel Tucker.
Just old faithful Tucker. Give doggie boney.
You know who I really am? Alexei Kronstadt.
Anarchist, Trotskyist, Communist, revolutionary. I'm a cell!
For years I've been working for the revolution.
Spitting in the ox soup.
Peeing on the Wedgewood plates.
So raise the scarlet banner high
Beneath its shade we live and die
- Tea, madame? - Oh, uh, yes.
Tucker, what was that song you were singing last night?
An old German hymn, madame.
Milk or lemon?
I say, where is the guv'nor? Ah, is that tea, Tucker? Just the job.
He's in town, trying to find a way around this mess.
- When's he back? - Oh, any time now...
if he doesn't drop in on his mistress first.
Hope he gets things sorted out soon. It's getting damned awkward in the village.
- Awkward? - Well, they expect us Gurneys to be in everything.
Mrs. Piggot-Jones and Mrs. Treadwell and all the other old girls,
they thought it would be a splendid idea if the new earl was to open the fete on Sunday.
I hardly dare ask, but naturally you told them it would be impossible?
- Milk or lemon? - Lemon, please, Tucker.
Yes, but, you see, I am the prospective parliamentary candidate for the division,
and I have to watch my step with them.
I couldn't very well say that he was "non-compis," could I?
- Well, where is he now? - Up there.
Look what you've done.
Never get tea stains out. Show some consideration.
- He... It's yogi, isn't it? - Tea, my lord?
It's no use, Tucker. I've tried. He's asleep. Dead to the world.
His body sleeps, but his divinity is always watching.
Milk, please. Any toasted muffin?
- Shall I bring 'em up? - No, I'll be right down.
It is yogi, isn't it? Or a form of yogi?
Don't give me another headache, Dinsdale.
You look ill, Mr. Tucker.
Bed, Mr. Tucker, right now.
Thank you, my lord.
Yes. I mean, how are you?
Sometimes my spirits sink below the high water mark in Palestine,
but I'm adjusting gradually.
For what I am about to receive, may I make myself truly thankful.
Soon I must be moving on.
Sail away, Lalaha, New Jersey, Port Said and Crewe.
First, I shall command the Pope to consecrate a planeload of contraceptives...
for the priest-ridden Irish.
Arise, shine, for my light is come...
and the glory of the Lord is risen upon thee.
Here is the rag See how it goes
Down on your heels Up on your toes
That's the way to do the varsity drag
Piggot-Jones and Mrs. Treadwell.
You can pass many a class whether you're dumb or wise
If you all answer the call when your professor cries
- Everybody! - Down on the heels, up on the toes
Stay after school Learn how it goes
Everybody do the varsity
Everybody do the varsity Everybody do the varsity
Everybody do the varsity drag
Welcome, ladies. I'm the new lord.
- You know Lady Claire and my cousin Dinsdale.
Oh, ladies, this is a surprise.
But delightful, really delightful.
Dear Sir Dinsdale, do forgive us for dropping in.
We thought we'd just take a stroll out to the manor. It's only six miles.
We've come to try to persuade His Lordship to open our little church fete.
Do say yes, my lord.
I always say yes, whatever question.
If you'll excuse us, we have a lot to do.
Stay to tea. You be mother.
Go and see if your father's back.
Tell me, ladies, what do I do at this gala opening of yours?
Do I charm bracelets, swing lead, break wind, pass water?
You'll make a speech.
On what text, Mother Superior?
Oh, we leave that to the speaker.
It can be any topic of current interest:
Hanging, immigration or the stranglehold of the unions.
But I've always felt the speeches should be about Britain and our way of life.
- Britain? - Mm-hmm.
A fly-blown speck in the North Sea.
You can't kick the natives in the back streets of Calcutta anymore.
Oh, he's joking again. Aren't you, my lord?
I'm not laughing, Pamela, and we can't stay here, Lady Claire.
- Then for Christ's sake, go. - Oh, don't go for my sake.
Oh. Delicious. Homegrown?
No, I bought them. I mean, they go with...
Ladies, I've decided to begin my second ministry at your gathering.
Last time I preached the Word in holy Galilee, I spoke in parables. Mistake!
Now I must speak plain. God is love.
- Love? - Love.
As water is wet, as jade is hard,
as bread is life, so God is love.
Mrs. Pamela Treadwell, can you love?
Can your blood bubble, flesh melt, thighs twitch, heart burst for love?
Your Lordship, I'm a married woman...
Remember the commandment I gave you: "Love one another as I love you."
Stay back. My husband is a master of hounds.
Fill your hearts! Let your souls dance, your eyes sparkle!
Be bird happy!
- Oh, what is it? - A Watusi walking stick.
Big people, the Watusi.
Ladies, come back. I'll fill your bodies.
- Oh, I'm awfully sorry. Have you seen my father?
I am and the resurrection and the light!
Will you kindly stop?
What are those two doing here? Who's the idiot responsible?
Oh, Dinsdale, of course. Who else?
You'll have to do something about that boy.
Well, he'll soon be off our hands.
Old Barrington-Cochran's on his last legs. That'll mean a by-election.
Well, what about Mrs. Piggot-Jones? Mrs. Treadwell?
Oh, they'll say the new earl's eccentric or something. Better still, heavy drinker.
Be not afraid! It is I!
But,J.C., look, I know who you are.
But maybe they don't. And we... I mean, that is, us...
Oh, let's go and have a glass of sherry.
Well? What did Sir Humphrey say?
Oh, he gave me a lot of expensive legal "fal-de-roll."
But as things stand, there's no way of breaking the will.
- So? - There's only one possible solution.
- A male heir. - A what!
Well, ifJack had a son, Sir Humphrey says we could easily get him certified.
Because then, everything would pass to the heir.
We could manage the estate till the boy came of age,
and that way everything would remain in the family.
Oh, brilliant. A small point.
But before he can have an heir, our lunatic nephew has to be married.
Exactly. And the sooner the better.
Yes, but don't you understand that these two ladies are extremely important to me?
Well, I sincerely hope, Jack, that when they next come down to the manor,
you'll be a trifle more courteous.
- Now, be subtle. - Oh, right.
Ah, we were just talking about you and marriage.
- We think you should take a wife. - Who from?
I'm sure we can find you a suitable young goddess.
What? Oh, most appropriate, eh?
- I can't marry a second time. - You're already married?
August 28th in the year of me, 1964.
This wife of yours... What's her name?
- Marguerite Gauthier. - French?
- Yes. - Gauthier. Marguerite Gauthier.
Isn't that "The Lady of the Camellias"?
You knew her too? Wonderful.
And that's the tune, isn't it?
Naturally I came as soon as I could.
We do appreciate it.
Your nephew is not married to the Lady of the Camellias.
He has no wife. But he believes he has, which is the same thing.
Why did he pick on Marguerite Gauthier?
Another martyr for love.
His delusions are all of a piece.
Marguerite is the only person he trusts.
Why does he keep on about love?
Because he wants us all to love goodness.
To love goodness is to love God.
To love God is to love the 14th Earl of Gurney.
That's very clever, but is it the truth?
Ah, don't come to me for the truth, only explanations.
Can I ask you one more question?
If it's as revealing as the others.
Why does he hate being called Jack?
Because it's his real name.
Naturally he rejects it violently.
If ever he answers to the name ofJack,
then you know he's on the road to sanity.
Doctor, how are my questions revealing?
The first one you asked me was about love.
This is our Tucker, Dr. Herder. He's been with the family for 40 years.
Man and sniveling boy, sir.
How do you find the new earl, Tucker?
By sniffing. He's a Gurney.
A real Gurney.
You don't find him odd?
- Soda? - Yes.
Yes, odd, peculiar.
Oh, you mean nutty?
Yes, he's a nutcase.
Most of these titled fleabags are.
Rich nobs and priveleged arseholes can afford to be bonkers.
They're living in a dreamworld, aren't they, sir?
Life's made too easy for 'em.
They don't have to earn a livin', so they do just what they want to.
We'd all be pretty crackers if we went around doing just what we wanted to, wouldn't we?
- Eh? - Yes.
Yes, I suppose...
The late earl left Tucker £30,000.
Since then, he's been very outspoken.
No, thank you.
Waste not, want not.
Mind having a look at my back, Doctor?
Lumbago acting up again.
Lady of the Camellias by Alexandre Dumas.
It's La Traviata, the opera by Verdi.
It's all the same woman: Marguerite Gauthier, a figure of romance.
My dear chap, you've proved my point ipso facto. A divine figure of romance.
- Well, what a pleasant surprise. - How are you?
In the middle of a debate on the existence of my wife, Marguerite.
- Pray continue, Dinsdale Gurney. - I give up.
You did say it'd be impossible to convince him, Doctor.
Do you see? It's a play. The Lady of the Camellias.
- It's fiction. - It's a biography of my Marguerite,
affectionately known as La Dame aux Camellias.
You aren't married. The woman doesn't exist.
Oh, come on! You'll be saying I'm not God, Christ and the Holy Ghost next!
Well, you're not. I mean, God wouldn't be so ridiculous waving his arms around like a maniac,
dressed in a white suit and a red carnation.
The prophet Ezekiel lay 300 days on his left side and 40 days on his right.
He cut his hair and divided it in three parts. The first part he burnt,
the second he chopped into pieces, the third he scattered to the wind.
It was all a sign of something more important.
All right, if you're God, reveal your godhead.
No, no, no, no.
A miracle. Show us a miracle.
- Here's a miracle. - What?
this city network of tissues, nerves, muscles, ligaments,
carpals and metacarpals, phalanges.
And what about the hairy-nosed wombat?
I don't mean that sort of miracle.
I mean a proper miracle like the loaves and the fishes.
You see ten billion million miracles a day,
yet you want your conjuring tricks, your pretty flimflams.
Well, I can't raise Lazarus again. He's decomposed.
- So bring me that table. - What are you going to do?
A grade-one Galilee miracle.
Now, instead of raising Lazarus,
I'll raise you a table.
- What? That table? - Ten feet.
Not with the aid of mirrors or crippled midgets behind black curtains,
but by the power of love.
- Just love? - It moves mountains...
and makes the puny weed split the rock.
Believe in me.
In loving goodness.
Raise yourself up.
One foot... two...
There! The table floats ten feet in space!
I see it! It's a bloody miracle!
- Drunken lout! - It didn't rise. There it is.
Tucker saw, believed!
- Did you see it, Doctor? - No.
Into my galvanized pressure cooker.
There's no miracle. There's no wife. She doesn't exist.
She's fiction. Part of a play, part of an opera.
She's not flesh and blood. She's not real.
How dare you bring that woman here!
- You should be very grateful to Miss Shelley. - Grace Shelley is your mistress.
- Miss Shelley is just a hardworking girl. - On her back.
First you try and pawn her off on your own brother.
Ralph needed a wife. He took a fancy to young Miss Shelley.
Well, that didn't work, so you tried her with the son. It's incestuous.
Don't talk about incest, madam. I remember yourJeremy Gore.
You went to school with the father, but you went ahead and seduced the son.
- That is incest, madam. - Ohhh.
Well, why the hell didn't you warn us?
No time. After what that "trick cyclist" told me,
I knew we'd never convinceJack he wasn't married or that Marguerite didn't exist.
So I telephoned Grace and explained the position.
She got hold of theatrical togs and came down here.
She put up a first-rate show, I thought.
Well, it had impact.
Anyway, Jack believed that she was Marguerite.
All she has to do now is convince him he has to marry her again.
Dr. Herder is furious.
Furious? He's got no right to be furious. He's not family.
He could make things difficult by having Jack declared insane before he's produced an heir.
Damned Kraut. You'll have to keep your eye on him, my dear.
I'm gonna have me hands full getting Grace married and pregnant.
What an entrance! Beautiful, but beautiful!
The looks on your faces!
I should have stuck to the classics. Always said I had the voice.
Oh, this dress is tight. I feel constipated.
Your flower is wilting, dear.
Can't be. It's wax.
Careful your husband-to-be doesn't eat it for breakfast.
You're right, Charlie boy. She is an ice-cold biddy.
Oh, she's too clever by half, that woman.
But I get things done my way. She doesn't know what she wants.
Oh, but I do, Charlie boy.
Lady Grace. Lady Grace Gurney,
the countess of Gurney.
Now, look here, Grace, you mustn't call me Charlie boy.
- We've gotta be careful. - Oh, if that's what you want.
Oh, it's not what I want. It's what it has to be.
Oh, I'm very fond of you, my dear.
Yeah, well, you've a damned funny way of showing it.
First you push me into the arms of your half-dead half brother,
and then onto his loony son.
Well, I'd make any sacrifice for the sake of the family.
Now, are you sure you can handle the situation?
Tricky and all, marrying a man who thinks he's God.
Happens all the time.
Look, there he is.
Well, better get the show on the road.
Oh, where's me lousy camellia?
Oh, I'll be glad to get out of this clobber.
Oh! No wonder she was dying of consumption.
Now, be careful.
Oh, don't worry, Charlie bo... Charles.
I've got too much at stake to blow it.
Damned plucky filly.
I say, Father, Mother's just told me...
that this Lady of the Camellia woman is just a fake.
Well, I mean, I know thatJ.C. Is as batty as a moorhen,
but this just isn't playing the game, sir.
Game? What game?
This is no game, sir. This is real!
My dream's made flesh.
Sorry. I don't speak French.
Oh. German? Italian? Yiddish?
English? Should have said so before.
Nothing to be ashamed of. Hard language to master.
But we can't play this love scene with mere words.
Love scene? What, now?
Love isn't just for one season.
Anything you care for? The Grand Canyon?
A disused banana factory? Absolution?
- A white wedding. - Will Tuesday suit you?
- You deserve a big kiss. - Not here in the garden.
Last time I was kissed in a garden, it turned out rather awkward.
Oh, butJudas was a man.
Yes. Strange business.
- Who are you? - A woman.
Descended from Eve?
No. Doorstep. I'm an orphan.
We'll be orphans together, Marguerite.
Call me Grace, as I don't speak French.
Grace. A good name. It means "the gift of faith."
And that's what I have in you. I'm holding you to that wedding.
Hold hard. You'll be my queen of queens.
I'll be satisfied with "Lady Grace Gurney."
And I say unto you, thou shalt love the Lord thy God...
with all thy heart and all thy soul and all thy mind.
Oh, I'm happy. I'm the sunshine man,
the driver of the gravy train.
Choo, choo, choo.
It's so simple for me.
Paradise is just a smiling face.
- What's it for you? - For me? Paradise?
A fireplace, a cozy room.
- A little nest. - That nestles.
Where the roses bloom
Sweet Gracey and me
And baby makes three
We're going to our
When whippoorwills call
And evening is nigh
We hurry to our blue heaven
A turn to the right
A little white light
Will lead you to our
You'll see a smiling face a fireplace
A cozy room
A little nest that nestles where the roses bloom
Sweet Gracey and me
And baby makes three
We're going to our blue heaven
What are you looking at?
- Beauty? - Oh?
Yes, butJack... I mean J. C... I mean Bert...
Oh, hang it. You're still a Gurney.
Now, listen, that camellia woman is called Grace Shelley.
Close friend of my father's. He put her onto it, made her dress like that.
It's absolutely ridiculous. He wants to marry you off.
Well, Mother's in it too.
And I expect old Tuck knows all about it.
- Everybody except me. - Stop!
You're making me a stunted dwarf, a deformed midget, a crippled newt!
- What are you doing down there? - It's your negative "insinuendos."
- Insinuendo? - Insinuendo is insinuation towards innuendo...
brought on by increased negativism...
out of a negative reaction to your father's positivism.
I don't know what the devil you're going on about, but I resent your attitude.
I'm only telling you about Grace Shelley.
She's my righteous, ideal, planned wife!
Don't forget. Apart from being God, Christ and the Holy Ghost,
I'm also an L.O.B., D.F.C. And A.D.C.
You're dealing with the big one!
I've told aged Tucker!
Who... Same thing!
Injecting me with his Kremlin plots, negative microbes!
I said verbatim,
being persecuted is paranoid schizophrenia!
Wretched Dr. H. Suffered from same!
They fight against me.
Where are the signs...
Herder's dancing academy?
I am being everybody but Christ.
No, no, no, Charles. I will not solemnize any marriage,
even of my own nephew, during the period from Advent Sunday...
till eight days after Epiphany.
So, Charles, it must be Tuesday the 12th,
8:00 a.m., private chapel, o- ordinary license...
Charles, Charles, I have grave misgivings, grave misgivings.
- Misgivings? AboutJack? - Mmm.
No, no, no. About the bride, Miss Shelley!
Charles, who is she, hmm, hmm?
What is she?
Ch-Charles, look, I fear, I fear that she may be using this marriage...
merely to enhance her social position.
I hear that she says she's some sort of an entertainer.
I will vouch for Grace Shelley.
- Mmm? - Mmm!
My husband's an idiot.
That's not my concern.
The Earl is no longer under my care.
That charade with Miss Shelley made me feel an absolute fool.
And I don't care to underestimate myself.
I apologize, but Charles had some idea...
thatJack might accept her if she dressed up as the Lady of the Camellias.
Sometimes it's very easy to forget...
Sir Charles occupies a position of responsibility and power.
You know he's on the board of the Guldenheim Research Foundation?
Yes, he mentioned you were asking for a grant.
It's only a nominal £130,000 for a study...
of paranoid, schizophrenic rats.
Charles, need we be so hasty?
Charles, God, in His infinite mercy,
has seen fit to cloud our nervous senses.
But he will recover. He will recover, Charles.
God is merciful. Yes, you must believe that, Charles!
God is merciful in spite of all appearances.
We cannot wait upon God's mercy, Bertie!
Everything is going to pot. Dr. Herder at least.
- Herder? - Herder.
- Is he English? - No.
We insert fine silver wires into the rat's midbrain.
- That rat's behavior is then controlled...
by the strength of the current passing through them.
By pressing above them and stimulating one area of the midbrain,
the rat is made to feel threatened.
It attacks any rat in sight.
There's really no threat,
- but the midbrain can't tell the difference.
Roughly the same thing happens with human paranoids.
But an unknown area of the brain stimulated,
and they feel threatened without cause.
Naturally, men aren't rats.
Only a man would say so.
Our next step is to conduct similar experiments...
on humans' brains.
I see. Today, rats; tomorrow, the world.
Who will you wire for vision?
First of all, myself, naturally.
And if I press a button, you'll feel fear... love?
What, by pressing a little button?
Think of the risk, Doctor.
Oh, there is only one commandment a doctor need ever worry about:
Thou shalt not... advertise.
rises with the sun.
I'm purged of doubts and negative innuendos.
Today, I want to bless everything.
Bless the crawfish with its scuttling walk.
Bless the trout, pilchard and periwinkle.
Bless Ted Smoothey of 22 East Hackney Road.
Bless the mealy redpoll,
the black-gloved wallaby and W.C. Fields...
who's dead but lives on.
Bless the snotty-nosed giraffe.
Bless the buffalo.
Bless the Society of Women Engineers.
Bless the pygmy hippos.
Bless the mighty cockroach.
Today's my wedding day!
Wake up, Bertie!
Come, Bertie. Get on with it.
D- D-Dearly beloved,
we are gathered here together, in the sight of God...
Get on with it, Bertie!
A- A-A-And in the face of this company,
t- t-t-t-to join together this man and this woman...
in holy matrimony, which is an honorable estate...
Instituted by me in the time of man's innocence.
- Get on, Bertie! - Therefore,
if there be any in this company who can show just cause...
why these two may not be joined together,
let him speak now or forever hold his peace.
Load of British jelly-meat whiskers! Piddling, half-dead helots.
Quiet, man! Show some respect!
I always show respect, sir.
That's what I'm paid for.
No one can say I don't show respect.
Now come on, Bertie.
Now I require and ch...
I require and charge you both...
that if either of you know of any impediment...
why ye may not lawfully be joined together,
that you "de" now... you "de"...
Ye do now confess it.
Yes, I'm afraid I do know an impediment.
But it's only a rhetorical question, like all the others in the wedding service.
Oh, 'tis no good glossing o'er the fact...
certain Roman Catholic knackers think I'm already married to the Virgin Mary.
We're not concerned with what other people think,
especially Roman Catholics.
Get on with it, Bertie. Come on now.
Wilt thou, wilt thou take this woman to thy wedded wife,
to live together i-i-in holy wedlock under God's ordinance?
W- W-Wilt thou love her?
From the bottom of my soul to the tip of my penis,
like the sun in its brightness, the moon in its glory,
no breeze stirs that doesn't bear my love.
- Come on, Bertie! Come on! - Charles, blasphemy.
- But will you love me? - I will.
Wilt thou take this man to thy... - I will.
- To live together in holy matrimony... - I will!
- Who giveth his... - I do!
- Oh, you. - Come on, Bertie.
- Get a move on! - R-R-Repeat after me.
J.C., take thee, Grace Shelley,
to my wedded wife.
I,J.C., the holy, flying roller, the morning star,
take thee Marguerite, called Grace Shelley, because she doesn't speak French, to my wedded wife.
Where are you going, Bertie?
- Repeat after me. - Oh, I know the lines.
I, Grace Shelley, take theeJ.C. To my wedded husband...
better, worse, richer, poorer, this day, sickness, health, I plight thee my troth.
Plight thee my troth, yes.
Well, inasmuch as you are now bound in holy wedlock,
l- l-I now pro-pronounce thee man and wife!
God join together, no man, no man put asunder,
in the name of the Father, the Son...
and Holy, the Holy, the Holy Ghost.
God have mercy on me.
A bit tatty, Jeeves.
No guests, no reception, two plates of curled up sandwiches...
and a deformed wedding cake.
It's not my fault, Your Ladyship.
"Your Ladyship." That's better.
I'll watch 'em creep and crawl at Harrods.
We thought you'd like a nice, quiet affair.
Huh! Quiet's right! And what about a toast to the newlyweds or something?
- You know. - All right.
Here's to long life and happiness for the bride and groom.
- To the bride and groom! - Thank you.
In reply, I name this ship "Loving Kindness."
May I keep her and all who sail in her.
Ah, you should have seen the late earl's wedding, m'lady.
Five hundred guests, the creme de menthe.
Wastrels all. May their carbonized bones rot in hell!
Can't say that I like the idea of you being alone with him.
You're a beauty.
even if you've given it away.
One minute silence, please.
- What for? - For all the dead books of World War I.
For Mr. Moto, Sisco Kid and me.
Muffle the drums, silence. Shh!
Terrible, isn't it? That's why I sing, dance, talk...
Oh, we danced and we sang
And the village bells rang
On the beautiful night we were married
Oh, the roses they bloomed
For the bride and the groom
On the beautiful night we were wed
- Shut up! - We were wed, Oh, the...
Thought you'd like me to liven up this wake.
- Where'd they go? - To bed, of course.
I must say, I wouldn't like to be in her shoes tonight.
It's not her shoes he'll be in, Master Dinsdale.
I always get first night nerves. Well, any good performer does.
You have to be keyed up to give a good show.
I've done it all. From Stanislavsky to strip.
Greasy makeup towels, cracked mirrors, rhinestones and beads.
What a world. I sang "This Can't Be Love."
Funny. Did the same act late at the Pigalle...
for twice the money without removing a stitch.
Of course, some women can strip without taking their clothes off.
Nobody could call me undersexed.
But I could never get worked up watching some man strip down to suspenders and jockstrap.
Well, where's the fun?
I suppose some people just prefer the smell of the steak better than the steak itself.
Oh, if my mother could see me now!
It's what she always wanted for me... the big time.
Well, she found it hard to settle down to civilian life...
after being in the touring company of Chu Chin Chow.
Nobody need worry about me fitting in.
All I have to do is play it cool.
I can cock my little finger with the best.
Darling, I'm waiting.
What? Oh, that's ridiculous! It's not dignified!
Dignity has nothing to do with divinity.
Not here! Not now! A bike? You're mad!
- Don't be frightened. - I'm not frightened.
I just didn't expect to see my husband riding a three-wheeled bike on his wedding night.
It's the only way to travel.
God loves you.
God wants you.
God needs you.
Come to me.
Well, keep pouring. I'm starving!
It was a damn long night.
All right, Tucker. I'll serve myself.
- Well, what happened? - Happened?
Last night! What'd he do?
Rode around on a three-wheeled bike.
Oh, yes. It must have been one of the guv'nor's old bikes.
The attic's full of his junk.
So... he just rode about all night then?
First the bike, then me.
- Mmm. - His mind may be wonky,
but there's certainly nothing wrong with the rest of his anatomy.
Mmm, we Gurneys are damnably virile.
I thought you'd be delighted to find out he's not impotent.
All right. Delighted.
Well, was it successful?
- I should have sold bleeding tickets. - Really, Claire!
- How could you ask that? - Well, it was your idea, remember.
If our nephew's incapable, somebody else might have to...
step into the bridge for him.
Charles, tell her to keep her sharp tongue and low mind to herself.
Oh, she has claws.
Look, this is my pad now, remember?
If you want to keep kibitzing here, just belt up on the snide remarks...
or you'll find yourself horizontal.
A position you're clearly familiar with.
- Look, you granite-faced old... - How dare you speak to me like that!
- Why can't you look at my back? - I keep telling you.
- I'm a psychiatrist. - It's just because I'm on the national health, isn't it?
Damn money-grubbers... you and your "hypocrite's" oath.
Wait a minute.
- Who the hell do you think you are? - Will you two shut up?
It's Dr. Herder!
I've come to offer my congratulations on the wedding.
Dr. Herder, this is Lady Grace Gurney.
How do you do, Doctor? So nice to meet you at last.
You'll stay to lunch. I want to talk to you about my husband.
- And I want to talk to you. - I'm so sorry you weren't told about the wedding,
but we didn't invite anybody except for close family.
Besides, you'd have tried to talk me out of it.
And it wouldn't have done any good. I love him.
- You should have consulted me before you went ahead.
- It's madness. - Come, Doctor.
You said he needed a harsh dose of reality.
Well, you can't get a harsher dose of the stuff than marriage.
It can't be legal!
It's legal! My brother-in-law conducted the service. He's a bishop.
What do you say, Lady Claire?
- Congratulations? - On getting your Guldenheim Grant.
Yes, congrats, old boy. I had a word with the chairman,
told him you were a sound fellow.
Sit down. Help yourself to coffee, Doctor.
You made love to me to make sure I wouldn't cause any trouble!
You seduced me to make sure the £130,000 for your schizophrenic rats.
Don't be tiresome.
It's all right. They agreed to be cut.
See, the sunflower in the center and the roses...
and, and, and, and the three sweet williams...
and all bound in Canton evergreen for loving memory.
And I mean every word of it.
It's so beautiful. Thank you.
I have shaken the silver gong of the universe.
Oh, Grace, it's hard.
Love is my theme, and it frightens them,
happiness my gift, and they run.
I try to tie the air in knots...
and make mountains out of water.
It's hopeless, darling.
That's not a word in love's lexicon.
We'll hear the voice of the turtle throughout the land.
Yes. Clop, clop, clop.
Oh, you fool!
- You fool. - I don't like being made a fool of, Claire.
Nobody's making a fool of you.
The Gurneys must have an heir.
As soon as there is one child, we'll haveJ.C. Committed.
The only way you can change the plot, Doctor,
is by making the 14th earl of Gurney sane like the rest of us.
You haven't much time.
Lady Grace isn't the type to survive the rabbit test for long.
Your Lordship, this is the first of a series of experiments...
I'm going to conduct with your help.
Ask and thou shalt receive.
What does that look like?
Is it a dragon?
A spider? What does it remind you of?
God. Everything that is or ever shall be...
reminds me of me.
If it didn't remind you of you,
what would it remind you of?
An ink blot.
Your Lordship, this is a lie detector.
It will give us an objective truth.
Your Lordship, are you God?
Doctor, this machine says he's lying!
For experiment 11, I've asked His Lordship to visit ward C.
That's where we keep some of the more extreme mental patients.
I'm hoping they may provide a beneficial shot.
- But isn't it dangerous? - No, no, no, no.
I have an assistant outside and inside.
Besides, you haven't given me much time,
so I'm forced to try unorthodox methods.
He's been inside for about 20 minutes.
There was a lot of shouting at first, but now... Listen.
And here we are
To make the wounded whole
Bearers of love
Here we are
To heal the sin-sick soul
Can you believe it? J.C. Has got labor pains too.
Hmm. It's called couvade. Sympathetic illness.
Psychosomatic. Not at all unusual.
Oh, but I never felt anything when Lady Claire here was pregnant.
I'm sure you didn't.
- Oh! - Oh!
Mighty Mouse is roaring.
What are you up to now?
A colleague of mine is sending you some help...
as a personal favor.
Well, do you need us here?
Yes, but whatever happens,
you must not interfere.
I'm going to prove that it's impossible...
for two objects to occupy the same space at the same time.
Dr. Herder, Mr. McKyle is here.
- Good. Show him straight in. - Certainly, sir.
I'll just lie down on the doorstep and let him walk over me.
J.C., I am going to show you the world in the hard light of truth.
I am the light of truth,
the light of the world.
This is experiment 15.
Well now, shall we get on with it?
- Let me introduce you first. - Oh, there's no need.
I'm sure they all know me here.
Who else has electricity steaming from his eyeballs and from his fingers?
I'm the High Voltage Messiah.
The Electric Christ.
The AC/DC God.
You look fused.
Cannot you see the wall plug in my forehead? Here, here.
Takes everything I eat and drink and turns it into watts and kilowatts.
Are you saying you're God too?
God the one, two, three,
four, five, six,
seven, eight, nine, ten.
Have you never seen God before?
I have, sir. I'm God.
You are not God!
You are what my snot rag's made of!
I've obliterated hundreds of dupe messiahs in my time!
You think I'd go around saying I was God if I could help it?
I've not traveled 20 million miles through galactic space...
to bandy words with your poxy moon loony who thinks he's me!
I'm here. You're there.
I'm here and there too! Do not trifle with me, laddy.
I'm Jehovah, from the Old Testament.
The vengeful god!
Away... or you'll be dropped!
But you both can't be God.
Oh, you're trying to split my mind with his tongue!
Away, laddy... or I'll burn you to a crispy noodle.
You can't touch me!
I'm the rock and the vine,
the goat, the sacred bug,
the upright testicle, the bull!
I saw my son Jamie die.
He had a cancer at the base of his spine...
and one in his head.
They put the black spider treatment on him.
They crawled all over,
cracking the body vermin with its nippers!
I can cure your bursting.
Fire a laser beam into you to clear away the sick pus...
the sack of pus, the white pus,
the dead fetus!
But first, I must deal with yon Irishman.
I'm dead. Recharge!
This is your responsibility, Doctor, damn you! If we lose this child...
I say, super news! Old Barrington-Cochran's dead. This means a new by-election.
- Not now, Dinsdale! - Mrs. Darby is a qualified midwife.
- She'd resent me interfering professionally. - You're not going on with this!
I won't be able to get McKyle out again. It's my last chance.
Paul! Paul, why persecute thou me!
Look, will someone please tell me what's going on here?
Life, Mr. Dinsdale... the rich, moth-eaten tapestry of life.
Come on, come on. Quickly.
Gentlemen, it's important to know...
which of you is telling the truth.
If one of you is God, the other must be somebody else.
I stand accused...
of not being who I am...
the hereafter named uncontested God!
I made the world in my image,
and I'm the holy terror!
The red peacock is a moth which only lives two days.
With no mouth to eat or drink,
it flies miles to love, breed and die.
Consider a life of love without one selfish act!
And they, and they put me away...
for 17 years!
Only the sick...
with spider's webs in their brains...
clack on about love...
I'm a brave god...
for bashing bairns' heads out on rocks!
A brave god for strong stomachs!
We are the children of light!
The children of light...
you know, are far, far away.
This is Earth, man!
One of my earliest failures!
Earth is where I dump the excrement of the universe!
- People care for love! - We don't want love!
We want a big, fat slice of revenge! Kiss me arse.
Tucker, you unmitigated stinker.
No god of love made this world.
I have seen a girl of four whose nails had been torn out by her father!
I have seen the mountains of gold teeth and hair...
and the millions boiled down for soap!
S- S-Sometimes God...
turns his back on His people...
And breaks wind...
and the stench clouds the globe!
I am the High Voltage Man...
closer to God than you,
you sentimental clishmac-laverer!
No, no, no, no, no!
The light! The light of truth!
Here is the truth! You'reJack Gurney, the 14th earl of Gurney!
- And I'm the cock of the north! - Eloi! Eloi!
Your family tricked you into marriage. They wanted an heir.
And if the baby turns out to be a boy,
they'll have you in a straitjacket...
before you can say another Paternoster!
I am the father... I'm splitting!
Torn, tear. Crowned. Coming out c-crowned! Born.
I am the Father!
You're the father of nothing!
One million volts.
Two million volts.
Three million volts.
Four million volts!
Five million volts!
Six million volts!
Seven million volts!
Eight million volts!
Nine million! Ten million!
Get out of here.
Jack. My name.
Yes. That's right. Your name's Jack.
- It's worked. - Hallelujah!
- Hallelujah! - Well done!
My name's Jack.
It's a boy!
Over the winds
On the wings
Of a dove
Far away, far away
Would I roam
- Over the wind - Vincent Henry Edward...
Hmm. I baptize thee...
in the name of the Father and of the Son...
and of the Holy Ghost.
What a pair of lungs. He's a trooper.
Coochie, coochie, coochie. Oh, he's a splendid little fellow, isn't he, Bertie?
A vessel newly-filled with the Holy Spirit,
though somewhat a leaky vessel.
Leaky or not, he saved you Gurneys from extinction.
What about His Lordship?
The family came to the decision some time ago that, after certain matters were cleared up,
he'd be put away, permanently.
That was before, Charles. Everything's changed.
I hear he's improved so far, though of course he may slip back into darkness and shadow.
Sometimes it's worse, now he's not completely potty.
I mean, we've all be waiting for him to go off... tick, tick, tick, boom.
Well, we've all been extremely lucky up to now,
but with this by-election coming up,
it's getting too dangerous.
I think it would be best all around if he were put away.
Be best all around if the bloody lot of you were put away.
You must realize the battle between the God of Love and the Electric Messiah...
is a tremendous breakthrough.
- Yes, but is he cured? - He's on the way to recovery.
His behavior is nearing the acceptable norm.
Frankly, I don't know if it's permanent.
I do know you mustn't have him committed.
This case could become a classic of psychology.
Freud's Anna O., now Herder's Earl of Gurney.
And you say he's recovering.
A pleasant name. Jack. J-J-J-Jack.
Why are you walking like that?
- Oh. - Reasonable.
I found this in the attic.
- Why aren't you resting? - I wanted to apologize...
for not being at my son's christening.
The little devil stole the show.
I must be sure before I make my first public appearance.
Important to leave the right impression. When I r-r-r-r-relax.
Overall impression of superiority and volatile...
Farts! Whoredoms! Bloody network! Hold, sir. Hold, hold, hold.
How do you feel, Jack?
Lazarus felt like I feel. Odor of dung.
Liquid, straight, unstable.
Back, sir. Back, back, back.
I'll learn the rules of the game.
- We know you will. - Well, you've changed already.
You wished to take a constitutional at noon, my lord.
Thank you, Tuck.
You're a valuable man, Tuck.
There are some here who don't think so, my lord.
They're just waiting to give me the boot.
You and me both, Tuck.
You must give them no cause, no cause.
Don't stay out too long, Jack.
Just want to get the feel of terra firma.
I must learn to keep my mouth shut, bowels open and never volunteer.
Well, has he changed or hasn't he?
- I just know he'll recover. - I want him to.
I love him so much. I know he'll forgive me for what I did.
Well, won't he?
Aren't we all rather jumping the gun just a bit?
I mean, look at the way he suddenly goes off.
"Volatile farts a'a duat." I mean, what was that all about?
Paralalia... a speech disturbance.
It'd be simpler if a man were paranoid one minute and cured the next.
Unfortunately, it takes a little longer.
So what about all this Victorian bric-a-brac he's got all over the place.
In the end, it's Her Ladyship's decision.
- It isn't. It's done. - Done?
I've asked the master in lunacy...
to come down here and certifyJack insane.
You devious, horrible bastard!
Do you think he's done the decent thing at last?
This could've been me.
You were waving that gun about all over the place, my lord.
Not that anybody'd care.
Nobody to weep for poor, creepin' Tucker.
- Jack! - Well, I'm not ready for the fiery furnace yet.
Awful lot of livin' to do.
Girls by the hundreds... to name only a few.
Are you all right, Jack?
- What were you doing, Jeeves? - Guzzling. It's your job to look after His Lordship.
Oh, please help. I'm stuck in the brambles! Tuck!
- So you're still in one piece. - Oh, disappointed?
I was only trying to do what's expected.
I recall, as a sign of normalcy, our circle to slaughter anything that moves. All I did was...
You bloody maniac! I've been shot!
Poachers! After him, Tucker!
Come on, you devil! Come on!
Hey, what's your name, then?
- Come on! - Get me out... Oh, you... Could, could you get me out...
Oh, Father, could you help me? I'm...
I know. I had an accident with an old gun,
a stone in my shoe, and you still think I'm insane.
- Give me time. - Time?
There's no time left.
Sir Charles has asked the master in lunacy to come here to commit you to an institution.
Naturally, I'll oppose any commitment, but everything depends on how you act.
Perhaps it's for the best.
If I satisfy the lunatic master,
I'll be officially sane and have a certificate to prove it.
But Charles has been unwise.
You'll catch your deaths out here.
Will you be all right, Jack?
What a family.
Enough to send anyone round the bend.
The only sensible thing I've done in the last eight years...
has been to marry you.
There now. Well, don't stay out too long.
Charles is a bloody moron.
I'll have his guts for garters.
Down, down. Oh, let me keep it down.
Pianissimo, damp down!
I'm a soft grub...
They'll rip me open! Nail my brain to my skull!
Grunk, grok, crunk! Fug!
Fug! That means you!
Silence when you speak!
Steady the buffs!
Waiter! I say, waiter!
There's a moustache in my soup!
I know the price of every article in this room.
So if there's anything missing, we'll know where to look, won't we?
It's the man from the loony bin.
He's in the library.
O'er you go, son.
You must be Truscott, the lunatic fellow.
I'm the master of the court of protection.
The title "master in lunacy" isn't used nowadays.
You should know why I'm here.
I'll introduce myself first.
Jack Gurney, the earl of Gurney.
Sit down, why don't you?
I understand Charles considers me incapable.
And you're here to commit me officially.
Not exactly, my lord.
I make a recommendation to a nominated judge and he does the actual committing.
This investigation, however, is rather informal...
a favor to Charles.
Yours is a confusing case.
Two doctors recommend you be put under care,
But Dr. Herder says you're nearly back to normal.
Of course, he is a foreigner,
and his ideas of normal may not be mine.
How do you find out about me?
You talk... I listen.
Oh. Talk. Judas T-T-T...
Do you still believe you're Christ, my lord?
Are you God?
Come, sire. Are you the god of love?
Harrow may be more clever.
Rugby may make more row.
But we'll row, row, row forever,
steady from stroke to bow.
And nothing in life will sever...
the chain that is round us now.
Others may fill our places
To rest in the old light blue
We'll recollect our races
We'll to the flag be true
But we'll still swing together
Elsewhere by the best of schools
But we'll still swing together
Elsewhere by the best of schools
- The old Eton boating song! - I didn't realize!
You're Kelso Truscott. The Kelso, the greatest athlete the school ever had!
- A long time ago. - Oh, no, no, no.
When one went to school, the first thing one heard were the days of your glory, Truscott.
Oh, dear, one day, apparently, you debagged the chaplain...
and hit the local constable over the head with an ebony shillelagh.
Ah, school days, school days.
It's all ahead of you, then.
You realize, Your Lordship, the fact we're both Etonians...
can have no possible influence on my recommendation.
Of course, I find it even harder to believe now.
Now, are you the god of love?
He no longer exists.
I've been raving for eight years, Truscott.
That accounts for you're not being at any of the old boys' reunion dinners.
I went round saying, "God loves you.
Loves you." I'm sorry there, Truscott.
Embarrassing for a chap to remember what a spectacle he's made of himself, you know.
You seem right enough to me, but these things are deceptive.
Is there anything you feel strongly about, my lord?
My w-w-w-wasted years.
I woke up the other morning with grey hairs.
Grey hairs and duty neglected.
Our country is being destroyed.
You're mocked in the Strand if you talk of patriotism and the old queen.
Discipline's gone. They are sapping the foundations of our society...
with their adultery and fornication!
The barbarians are waiting outside with chaos, anarchy,
homosexuality and worse!
- Well? - Dr. Herder,
you said His Lordship was on the road to recovery.
- I can't agree. - There!
You're too cautious.
For my money, he's recovered.
Oh, it's absolutely marvelous! Oh!
Oh, we're so grateful to you, Mr. Truscott.
Thank you, Your Ladyship. We'll be expecting His Lordship at the next reunion dinner.
You're lucky this was only a friendly investigation, old boy.
- We take a dim view of frivolous complaints.
- Kelso? - Yes, Your Lordship?
I'll see you out.
Truscott's a damned ass!
- Can't he see I'm right? - Right?
I've had enough of your "right."
You have stuck your aristocratic schnoz into my affairs for the last time, right?
Jack's changed, right? Everything's changed...you, me, us, them.
It's a new deal all round, right? You know what I mean?
You did it, Jack. Wonderful.
Yes. He's made a spectacular breakthrough.
We're in the process of making a new man.
I'm always on the lookout for new men.
sent before my time...
into this breeding world.
I'm cured of fantasy obsessions, paranoid delusions,
I master words.
L... Straighten up there.
Am... Close up with "I," you horrible, little word.
I am God.
Not the god of love, but God Almighty.
I massacred the Amalekites and the Seven Nations of Canaan.
I hacked Agag to pieces and blasted the barren fig tree,
for the day of vengeance is in my heart.
You lunar jackass,
she betrayed you... guilty, guilty, guilty.
The punishment is death. I've finally been processed.
They made me adjust... to modern times.
This is 1888, isn't it?
Jack whose sword never sleeps.
Hats off, I'm Jack.
Not the good shepherd.
Not the prince of peace.
I'm red Jack, spring-heeled Jack.
Jack from hell. Trade name: Jack the Ripper.
Alice, Marie Kelly.
Six little whores, glad to be alive.
One sidles up toJack and then there are five.
When they see how Jack's changed,
they'll spread the word, then everyone'll know he's back to normal.
Well, I don't think he is.
You're just siding with your father. Well, where is the old goat?
He's back in the library. Do you know I think he's heading for a serious breakdown?
I actually saw him reading a book.
I don't understand how you got the hunt to inviteJack to come along.
Oh, I'm still a ladyship. Sixty miles out of town,
an awful lot of cap touching and forelock tugging still goes on.
I gather that the atmosphere was a trifle strained on your last visit to Gurney Manor.
Well, it was our first meeting with His Lordship.
He asked me if I... well, if I loved him.
Your manservant heard him.
- Why did he say, "God is love"? - Because he was mad.
- Mad with grief. My father had just died. - Talk of the devil.
Darling, you remember Mrs. Piggot-Jones and Mrs. Treadwell.
Why, you do remember. You asked me if I'd loved.
- Please, not in public! - I keep telling Pamela not to brood about it.
Let's have no talk of bestial orgasms, erotic tonguings.
It burns high-voltage holes in the brain.
It's been proved in oscillographs.
- My husband hates anything suggestive. - Oh.
I hear that you got Sir Barrington-Cochran to speak...
at your church fete before he passed away.
Made a splendid speech about the rise of crime. And socialism!
I shall campaign actively for the reintroduction of the death penalty.
- Bravo. - You mean there's no death penalty...
in England's green and pleasant?
- Surely you knew that... - We're a bit out of touch.
The hangman holds our society together.
He is the symbol of the great chastiser. He built this world on punishment and fear.
Snuff out fear and see what follows.
Sons strike their doddering dads.
Young girls show their ankles and bosoms and say rude things about the queen.
Anything goes, and they do it openly in the street and frighten the horses!
It's the times. What can we do about it?
- Bring back fear! - Hear, hear.
In the old days, the executioner kept the common herd in order.
When he stood on his gallows, you knew God was in His heaven, all right with the world.
The punishment for blaspheming was to be broken on the wheel.
First, the fibula, crack. Then the tibia, patella and femur, crack, crack, crack!
Then the corpus, ulna and radius, crack!
Disconnect dem bones Dem dry bones
Disconnect dem bones Dem dry bones
Disconnect dem bones Dem dry bones
- Now hear the Word of the Lord - Hear the Word of the Lord
Well, your head bone's connected to your neck bone
Your neck bone's connected to your shoulder bone
Your shoulder bone's connected to your backbone
Your backbone's connected to your hipbone
Your hipbone's connected to your thigh bone
- Now hear the Word of the Lord - Hear the Word of the Lord
Dem bones, dem bones gonna walk around
Dem bones, dem bones gonna walk around
Dem bones, dem bones gonna walk around
Now hear the Word of the Lord
Disconnect dem bones Dem dry bones
Disconnect dem bones Dem dry bones
Disconnect dem bones Dem dry bones
Now hear the Word
Of the Lord
- Ladies and gentlemen, we understand each other perfectly.
Breeding speaks to breeding.
He's so impressive, Your Ladyship, isn't he?
A little eccentric on the surface, but deep down sound.
He is so like his father. Gets more like him every day.
and send you a fine, fat fox.
- Join me for a cigar, Dinsdale. - No, thank you, Jack.
It's up the wooden staircase to Bedfordshire for me.
Don't be too long, darling. I'm just going to kiss littleJack good night.
You were wonderful at the hunt today.
I'm still not word perfect...
all the talk of bestial orgasms.
It wasn't what you said. It was your manner that won them over.
I stand outside myself,
watching myself watching myself.
I smile, I smile,
I like your smile.
Before, I was only sorry for you.
Oh, before, madam.
Before, I was a mass of light.
Mad, you see.
Now I am sane.
The world sweats into my brain, madam.
Don't keep calling me... madam.
It's hard to look at people from downwind. They stink.
It's terrible, but it's the real thing.
I've always wanted to find the real thing.
- Do you remember our first talk together? - I remember nothing.
"Explode. Only feel," you said.
Why do you remember now what I said then...
when I don't remember myself?
Because you're so different.
like I used to tremble at shadows when I was a child.
I am no shadow.
I'm flesh and blood.
Perhaps I'm not really dead,
Wake me... with a kiss.
Are you accosting me?
That's right, ducks. 'Ow's about it?
Are you pleased this has happened?
We were destined to meet.
That sounds romantic.
Fornication, gangrened shoulder of sex.
Tear, spill the seed, gut-slime.
I know some women like being stimulated by dirty words and filthy talk, but I don't.
Flesh lusteth against the spirit.
Run, Mary, run!
You're talking nonsense again, Jack.
You'll be nicked down to your bloody membrane, Mary.
Say something soft and tender.
Calves, tender tongues,
The sword of the lord is filled with blood.
Stop talking, Jack. Make me immortal... with a kiss.
- What's going on? - Who's that?
- What is she doing? - Is she dead?
- Yes! - Get back, everybody!
It's Jack the Ripper!
Ah, Lady Claire. Are you quite comfortable, madam?
Stoned, eh? All right. Well.
Could I be of assistan...
One less! Praise the Lord! Hallelujah!
- Halleluj... - What's go...
All right. Who's the impudent clown...
responsible for this?
The super had a word with him before he left. He's a close friend of Charles Gurney's.
- Tricky, sir. - There's to be no publicity, and he wants it wrapped up quick.
We, therefore, commit our dear sister's body to the ground.
Earth to earth...
Vladimir Ilyich Lenin.
Chairman Mao Tse-tung.
So that's his little game.
Ah, she was beautiful as Taza and comely as Jerusalem.
And now she's gone, down, down, down.
Up, up, up she flies!
Her soul flies up.
Surely you believe she's gone to another place...
to enjoy even greater privileges than she had on Earth.
Yes, well, I have to, Jack. After all, I am a bishop.
I think of her so fondly,
n- n-not her terrible death.
There, there, there. Forgive an old man's wavering.
Lean on me. Trust God's judgement.
There, there, dear boy.
Y- Y-You make an old man ashamed.
You have been such a great, great source of strength to me, Jack.
And I won't forget this, my boy.
I won't forget this. Hmm.
Mmm, Jack, you were the instrument that restored my faith.
L- l-l-I feel reborn.
L- l-l-I found the way again... the way!
Come, my boy.
Let me walk... humbly, w- w-w-with my God!
My God. Yes.
How could anything like this happen to us?
- What was Mother thinking of? - Not in front of strangers.
Pull yourself together, Dinsdale.
Brockett, why aren't you running this animal to earth?
Oh, don't you worry, sir. We'll get him.
But there's still a few points I'd like to clear up.
Now, we know the butler found the body just after the killer left by the French windows.
And when you came in a moment later, sir, where was he standing?
- Who? - Well, the baby's asleep. What are you lot doing?
This is Her Ladyship. He wants to know how we found Tucker beside Claire's body.
- Oh, here, like the hokey-cokey. - The hokey-cokey?
Yes, you know, the hokey-cokey.
- Now, why would he be doing anything like the hokey-cokey? - He was drunk.
Senile old fool. He should have been booted out of here years ago.
But he's not the only one you should check. What about my nephew?
Oh, I think that's rather disgraceful, Father.
Charles, you've been through a lot, but I warn you.
I'm not saying he is involved, but...
But? I'll give you but!
Charles, you're not doing this for Claire. You're doing it because you're jealous...
because I love my husband.
Madam, you'll never be a Gurney.
I'd rather be dead!
Is this the way to behave in the presence of death?
Ah, forgive them, Jack. Forgive them, my boy.
They know not what they do.
I think I'll sit here again. Thank you.
Dinsdale, shouldn't you answer those letters of condolence?
- Nonsense. Let 'em wait. - No, no, no, no. Jack's right.
Creates a good impression. Takes my mind off things.
It's been a bad day for me, what with one thing or another.
My lord, there are still a few details I'd like to clear up.
Now on the night of the murder, you talked with Lady Claire till 11:30.
How was she when you left her?
- Unhappy. - Oh? Why's that?
Damn it, Brockett, what the devil does it matter how my wife was feeling?
You went straight up to bed and heard nothing?
I thought I heard Tucker singing.
But he said he didn't leave the kitchen till 12:00. Odd.
An important question, my lord. Now think hard, now.
Has anything unusual happened here recently?
Anything out of the ordinary?
Get him, Fraser.
What's this? What are you doing?
All right. All right, all right!
What's the idea? I've got a plane to catch.
- You going somewhere, Tucker? - Mr. Tucker, flatfoot.
Looks like it, don't it? It's cocktails and champagne for yours truly.
Gay Paree where all the girls say, "Oui, oui."
- A bit sudden, isn't it? - I'm a creature of impulse, Your Ladyship.
You're not going anywhere, Tucker, me lad. I got questions I want answerin'.
Now, why were you found standing like this beside the body, eh, eh?
Shock. That's it. Shock.
Shock. I'll give you shock, me lad.
- I told you all I know. - Oh, have you?
Daniel Tucker, alias Alexei Kronstadt.
Party member number 243.
- Murdering swine. - Jeeves a Bolshie?
- You're a Red. - What if I am?
What's it to you how I spend my leisure time, flatfoot?
You're a suspect in a murder case. You've concealed certain facts about yourself.
- What else are you hiding, Tucker? - Suspect?
This is old Tuck, Your Lordship.
All talk, no action.
I couldn't commit a crime if I wanted. I'm not the type.
You told me you discovered Lady Claire's body just before the others came back.
Yet His Lordship here swears he heard you down here in this room a half hour before.
Oh, no. Oh, you're wrong about that, my lord.
If thy hand offends thee, cut it off.
Say something for me, Your Lordship.
Tell him you're wrong. You're the only one that can help me.
Why, you always was my favorite, MasterJack.
The old earl, just before he died, said,
"Look after that feebleminded idiotJack for me, Tuck."
I could have gone, but I stayed.
Tuck, it was you.
Spawned out of envy, hate, revenge, you killed her!
Oh, Dan, Dan, you dirty, old man! Inspector.
- Daniel Tucker, I must warn you... - Judas Jack Iscariot!
You've sold me down the sewer.
You're just like all the rest of them.
But I know why.
You did it.
You and Sir Charles, standing there like a pickled walrus.
You Gurneys don't draw the line at murder.
You wanna do me dirt, just because I know too much.
I know that one percent of the population owns half the property in this country.
And that vomiting one percent wants kosher killing,
hung up so the blue blood drains out slow and easy.
So, comrades, come rally...
and the last fight let us face.
The international army unites the human race.
I'm only a strolling vagabond
So good night, pretty maiden
- Ah, it's what I've always said. - Good night
You can't give the working class money.
If he hadn't had that £30,000...
Fancy... old Jeeves.
My lord, I'd like to say what a pleasure it's been meeting you.
- Well, it couldn't have been easy. - It wasn't.
But you realized I was only doing me job.
You've shown me what "noblesse oblige" really means.
Cut up like meat.
No, no. I cured you.
You couldn't turn violent. You believe, more or less, what other people believe.
Your job's done, Herr Doctor. I'm adjusted.
I brush my teeth twice daily and smile.
No, you call that being adjusted, hmm?
Behavior, which would be considered insanity in a tradesman,
is looked on as mild eccentricity in a lord.
I want to know about Claire.
She's dead, Doctor... one of the facts of life.
- I know that. - She's turning to slime, Doctor.
- She's stinking pus! - I don't need to know that!
Then kindly leave the stage.
- You killed her. - A touch.
You... killed her!
You killed her!
A swordsman worthy of me steel.
Didn't we meet at Heidelberg?
You killed her!
You were fornicating lovers! Sperm dancers!
It's a lie!
Lady Claire meant nothing to me.
You killed her!
You cured me!
I was a pale moon loony. You changed me into a murderer.
- Is that what you're saying? - Yes.
- May God forgive me! - Never!
What proof have you?
I don't need proof. I know.
Physician, heal thyself.
You suddenly know against all the evidence.
You don't need proof from anybody or anything.
This monstrous belief of yours that I'm guilty is a clear case of paranoia.
I've heard of"transference," Doctor, but this is ridiculous.
If they ask about me at the trial, tell them the truth.
- What truth? - That I'm 100% normal.
Touche, Herr Doctor.
He is normal.
It's only a feeling.
I can't rely on feelings.
Everything he's done conforms to a classic recovery pattern.
His occasional lapses are normal.
His trying to blackmail me into saying he's completely normal is normal.
one of those terrible ironies...
nothing to do with the case.
Unpleasant as he is,
the good lord's... himself again.
My head's splitting!
I've had an abdomen full of the upper classes!
I should have specialized in heart diseases.
He made me deny you.
Ah, good, good.
Only a small item on page three today. Uh...
- What are you doing? - I'm still answering these letters of condolence.
- Damn. Let 'em wait. - No, no. Jack's right. It's my duty.
Oh, now it's Jack this, Jack that.
Jack, let's take off. It's been hell here. We need a holiday.
- Good idea. - No. I'm taking my seat in the House of Lords.
What, now? So soon after your illness?
Well, I mean, are you ready for them?
Are they ready for me, madam?
We're going to work as a team once I'm elected.
Jack in the House of Lords, me in the other place.
We think alike about a lot of things.
That's asking for trouble.
Fine spectacle he'd make, gibbering in the Upper House.
You're so bloody tactful, Charles.
Look, ifJack thinks he's ready for them, then I'm with him all the way.
- Me too. - It's out of the question!
Who asked you a question?
Did you ask him a question?
Nobody asked a question, so I'll ask a question.
Who is the head of the Gurney family?
Uh... you are, Jack.
Then don't let me hear you answering unasked questions again!
Don't make a complete ass of yourself, Father.
From now on, just shut up, Charles.
Your brain's silting, Charles.
- Don't talk to me like that! - It's over, finished.
And stop sniggering, you young pup!
- I'm not sniggering, Father. - I know sniggering!
Oh, it'll happen to you one day.
Suddenly you'll be standing there and... nobody's paying any attention to you.
You start coughing, and your mouth goes dry.
Wipe watery, dribbles away. It's hard!
Because inside you're still, you're still 21!
But your feet go flop, flop, flop!
Oh, it's hard. Inside, one's still 21.
There now, Father. That's enough, that's enough.
You've had a good innings, but it's milk-rusks and beddy-byes for you now.
You're more than just cured, Jack.
You've got that something extra...
what we call star quality.
It will be a triumphant climax.
Talking of climaxes,
you were a lot more loving when you were potty.
- Do you still love me, Jack? - Of course I do, Annie.
Annie? Well, why Annie?
Annie, Elizabeth, Catherine, Alice, Marie Kelly...
- Jack, you're not going off again... - Oh, it's nothing, my dear.
I have a big day ahead of me.
I'm speaking in the House of Lords.
Oh, don't worry. It's only nerves.
- You'll kill 'em. - In time.
Then you'll get around to me, I hope.
Oh, you're so lovely when you smile.
Must get my grunch thoughts in order, pro and contra.
Well, don't worry. You're one of them, only more so.
Just be your own sweet self, and they'll adore you as I adore you.
- Jack. - See if the car is ready.
English pigs! Arse lickers!
I've done nothing! I want justice!
I, Jack Arnold Alexander Tancred,
Earl of Gurney,
do swear by Almighty God...
that I will be faithful and bear true allegiance...
to Her Gracious Majesty,
her heirs and successors, according to law,
so help me God.
My lords, my lords,
I wish to call attention to the grave disquiet throughout the country...
- at the increase of immorality. - Yes.
My lords, my lords,
I must support the noble lord.
For 13 years, there has been no flogging,
no hanging and a steadily rising volume of crime, lawlessness and thuggery.
- I believe that the sissy treatment of young thugs...
- is utterly wrong! - Hear! Hear!
My lords, we must step up the penalties...
by making hanging and flogging the punishment for certain state crimes.
The criminal must be treated as an animal.
I had doubts about speaking here.
But after what I've heard, I realize...
this is where I belong!
My lords, these are grave times, killing times.
Stars collapse, universes shrink daily,
but the natural order is still crime, guilt, punishment!
There's no love without fear!
By His hand, sword, pike and grappling-hook,
God, the crowbar of the world,
flays, stabs, bludgeons, mutilates...
just as I was...
You... have... forgotten...
how to punish, my noble lords.
The strong must manipulate the weak!
That's the first law of the universe.
The hard survive, the soft quickly turn to corruption.
This is a call to greatness!
Approach this day out to battle against your enemies.
Let not your hearts faint,
fear not and do not tremble,
neither be ye terrified because of them.
For the Lord your God is He that goeth with you...
to fight for you against your enemies to save you.
And mine eyes shall not spare, neither will I have pity.
I will recompense them according to their ways...
and their abominations that are in the midst of them.
And they shall know that I am the lord that smiteth!
You're one of us at last!
Well done, Jack!
Onward Christian soldiers
Marching as to war
With the cross ofJesus
Going on before
Christ the royal master
Leads against the foe
Forward into battle
See His banners go
Onward Christian soldiers
Marching as to war
With the cross ofJesus
Going on before
Rainbow in the sky
The sunshine in my eyes
You're everything to me
The silver running stream
The lazy summer dream
You're everything to me
You're my world, you're my life You're my dream come tru...
Hey, down on your heels Up on your toes
See how it feels See how it goes
Everybody do the varsity
Everybody do the varsity
Everybody do the varsity