The Ruling Class (1972) - full transcript

My lords, gentleman,
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 a
memory of England.

Beware, once the rulers of
the greatest empire the world

has ever known rule 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.

But here's to His England,
this precious stone

set in the Silver Sea.

ALL: England, set
in the Silver Sea.

God save the 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 Quee.

Oh, thank you.

How was your speech, my Lord?

Oh, went well, Tuck.

English would like to hear
the truth about themselves.



He's back now.

Claire, I said, Ralph is back.

Thank you, Charles.

I'll have a vodka and tonic.

I say, governor,
the governor is back.

Mummy, I was just
telling the governor

that the governor is back.

Charles, with ice.

I'm repeating myself, calling
the governor the governor,

and daddy the governor as well.

Tuck, I'm getting
married again.

Very good, my Lord.

It's Grace Shelley,
Charles's right.

Been putting it off
sake of the family.

Only Jack knows.

This house used to
be full of mischief.

Ha!

Four young devils.

Thought I was safe enough.

Master Paul would
have been the 14th Earl.

District Officer,
21, dead at 23.

Beriberi-- picked it
up of some scruffy

fuzzy wuzzy in a dressing gown.

No 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 can do that on
your honeymoon, my Lord.

Hm, there's still Jack.

All based on land, Tuck.

I"ll have those naves
and white hall moving

in, so it's Miss Grace Shelley.

Is she anyone, my Lord?

No one.

But Charles recommends her.

It's 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.

Huh?

The governor loved
this bed, took it

all over the world with him.

Devilish great
man, the governor.

Superb shot.

Did wonderful
needle work, too.

What have you got there?

Ah, yes.

Why not?

Odd day, need to relax.

Might I suggest the
silk tonight, sir?

Good idea, Tuck.

For Sir George, he-- ah,
Tuck, there's no end to duty.

And law has been my life, Tuck.

A judge can't be unreasonable,
so how can he be a lover, eh?

This is a damn dry world, Tuck.

A long life and a
gray one, my Lord.

Power of life and death.

A judge has no need
for other vices.

Once you put on the black
cap, everything else

tastes like wax fruit.

Noose a bit high, Tuck.

Bring it down half an inch.

That's it.

Will that be all, my Lord?

A whisky and soda in about
five minutes, as usual.

Oh, Tuck, I shan't
be dining tonight.

Tell Cook the trial
ends tomorrow,

so I should 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.

Nothing like a good
English breakfast.

Big meal of the day
for the governor.

Always read "The
Times" through first,

case there was anything
too disturbing in it.

Mother never knew what
the word "socialist"

meant till she was past 50.

I 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.

And they have privileges.

Great confession
that in me study law,

not the Gurney tradition, no.

Always the army.

Feet, feet,
the boys are marching.

A little more grapeshot,
Captain Bragg.

Give him a touch of
that cold steel, boys.

Close, it's getting close.

I can feel the hot breath,
wonderful, wonderful, one slip,

wonderful.

Worms have the best of it.

They dine off the
tenderest joints,

juicy breasts, white thighs.

It is a far, far better thing
I do know than I've ever done.

No sir, no bandage.

Die, my dear doctor.

That is that last
thing I shall do.

Is that you, my love?

Come to me!

Come!

Touched her, saw her,
towers of death and silence

in route 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 the realm

take moonlit trips to
Marrakech and Ponders End?

See six vestal virgins
smoking cigars,

slippers, naked bosoms
floating past Formosa.

Just time for a quick one.

Be of good cheer, Master
Ridley, and pray the man

has plenty of time
to win this game

and beat the Spaniards, too.

Form squares, men!

Smash the
and .

Are you ready, your Lordship?

Bleed in bloody hell.

I am the resurrection and
the life, saith the Lord.

He that believeth in me,
though he were dead, yet shall

he live.

And whosoever liveth
and believeth in me

shall never die.

Gilead is mine and
Manasseh is mine.

Ephraim also is the
strength of my head.

Judah is my law giver
and Moab is my wash pot.

Over Edom my will cast out my
shoe, and upon Philistia will

I triumph.

Who will lead me
into the strong city,

and who will bring me into Edom?

[MUSIC - CECIL FRANCES
ALEXANDER, "ALL

THINGS BRIGHT AND BEAUTIFUL"]

All things
bright and beautiful,

all creatures great and small.

All things wise and wonderful,
the Lord God made them all.

Excellent service, Matthew.

Created exactly the
right impression.

Damned if I could
understand a word of it.

Yeah, 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

thy violent hands upon himself.

Now, now, Charles.

a disturbing rumor
has reached me.

Now 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?

No.

No, it does not.

No, but I had to
be sure, Charles.

After all, he is buried
in consecrated ground.

I must say, you
know, 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?

A cocked hat?

You said cocked hat, Charles.

Why was Ralph
wearing a cocked hat?

Trying it on for
size, obviously.

I told him not to
remain a widower.

The governor didn't have
to start breeding again

because it's not pleasant
for a man Ralph's age,

but that was something
he had to get on top of.

Underpants?

Why would-- why was he in
his underpants, Charles?

Well, it was in his
bedroom, wasn't it?

I thought all our troubles would
be over when he took offense

at a 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 going to 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 is made

legal guardian of the estate.

Ballet skirt?

What on Earth was he doing
in a ballet skirt, Charles?

Answer me that.

Mr. Matthew Pink
to see Mr. Charles.

Thank you, Tucker.

Come on in, Pete.

I think you know everyone here.

I have that
honor, Sir Charles.

All right, that's all, Tucker.

We're not to be disturbed.

Might I suggest, Sir
Charles, that Tucker stays?

What?

Mm, quite.

Well, Tucker, it seems you're
going to hear something

to your own advantage.

Yes.

You 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 and
the country of Bedfordshire,

hereby revoke all former
wills and codicils

and declare this
to be my last will.

I appoint Mr. Matthew Peak of 17
Brownrow Gardens, Bedfordshire,

to be the sole
executor of my will.

I give them bequeath
unto my manservant Daniel

Tucker the sum of 30 thousand
pounds, free of duty.

What the--

30 thousand?

What?

That there follow another
request to various charity now.

I'll run through them briefly.

I bequeath the sum
of 5 thousand pounds

to the Tail Wavers
Registered National

Charity, 3 thousand
pounds to the Banker's

Beneficence Society Limited--

30 thousand smackers!

Yipee!

Hey, Gilbert the
Filbert, the Knut the K!

The pride of Piccadilly,
the blase roue.

Oh, Hades, the
ladies, would leave

their wooden huts for
Gilbert the Filbert

the Colonel of the Knuts.

Woohoo!

I say, Tucker
seems a bit het up.

So are the ways.

If ever do one, my boy
who is greedy of gain.

Now then, Peak, what
about the Zambezi mission,

and what about the
Overseas Bishopric Fund?

Oh, never mind
about them, Bertie.

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?

No one.

By the rivers
of Babylon, there

we sat down, Yea, we wept--

You mean Jack's free to run
the estate and everything?

Jack will cheer up
the House of Lords.

Oh, Ralph obviously let
his personal feelings come

before his duty to his family.

Oh 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!

But father, I
don't understand.

You ask him to explain
before he explodes.

Blast to this land at
stake here, Gurney land.

I'm completely in
the fog, .

Ladies and gentlemen,
the queen's right trustee

and well-beloved cousin,
Jack Arnold Alexander Tancred

Gurney, 14th Earl of Gurney.

Hello.

I'm sorry I wasn't here before.

I see the new 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.

Nor you.

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
with the old saws.

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 are
still a Christian.

Come, for me.

Yes, my Lord.

Prayer should rise
up like incense.

A prayer is an act
of faith and union.

A prayer, it means to
ask, to beg, to plead.

The prayer is a
message to heaven.

You're 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, Coda, the one

supreme being and infinite
personal being, ,

the first immovable 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, the Christ.

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,
plunging 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 will 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 all 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 terrorists.

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 golden .

Well, never mind about that.

What about Jack?

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.

Ah.

What's all this then?

It's his lordship's effects.

Sign here, please.

Christ.

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 candid

dew.

Hroom!

I'm always thinking
so fast, hroom!

Space and time exist only
within the walls of my brain.

Hroom!

What I'm trying to say is, if
the words sound queer or funny

to your ear, a
little bit jumbled up

and jivey, singing mares
eat oats and does eat oats

and little lambs eat ivy.
Ivy?

Ivy?

Who's Ivy?

But I am the Lord Jesus
come again in my own body

to heal the sick,
betoppled, and the ignorant.

I'm 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 1, "suffer
to redeem the spirit to let

the body separate it from God."

So Satan found a place
in man and formed in him

a false love, a love of self.

Explode!

Only feel love and sin no more.

Must everything you touch, see
and feel, glorifies my love.

The top hat is my mitre, and
the walking stick, my rod.

Oh, dear.

Once I get started, it's
terribly difficult to stop.

I'm so sorry.

No, no, no, it's fascinating.

How do you know your god?

It's 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 25th 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?

The light vanished, and
blackness of darkness,

until a great brush, dipped in
light, swept across the sky.

And I saw the
diversity, distinction,

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 Somata, under
this protective outer shell.

I'm god filled.

Your Lordship, Sir Ch--

Just a 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.

You'll have to go.

Hadn't we better wait?

Somebody new mightn't
understand the situation.

Why is he hanging on with
30 thousand in the bank?

Out of love.

Love?

Tucker, rot.

Now, my boy, 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.

Well, 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 here.

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 it to my
galvanized pressure cooker.

Hooray!

Jack's dead.

All right, all right.

What should we call you then?

Any of the 9
billion names of God.

Your lordship will do, or JC,
Eric, Bert, Barney, Entwhistle.

I know exactly who I am.

You asked for these, my lord.

Them Burn them, Mr. Tucker.

Burn them.

Great Scott, man, these
are your coronation robes.

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.

My god.

Yes?

No, no, no, nothing.

Well?

You hear what he said, Charles.

I did.

Destroying property,
all men are equal.

You know what this
means, Claire.

He's not any 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.

What?

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.

Snort, Your Lordship?

Thank you.

If only I knew
then who I was now.

Mr. Grasshopper, of
course I bless you,

you chirrup, 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, no
faith the mustard seed.

Plotting's a word I put it to
my galvanized pressure cooker.

Hroom, it's gone.

Feeling persecuted
is one of the signs

of paranoid schizophrenia.

Many poor wretches in Dr.
Herder's dancing academy

suffered from .

But I am being
watched, they said.

Everybody is against
me, they cried.

You've set up profound,
negative reactions

with our 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 and what
to be so just isn't so.

No skin off my nose.

My 30 thousand'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.

Very 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.

They don't know
about Daniel Tucker.

Just Old Faithful Tucker,
give doggie boney!

You know what I really am?

, anarchist,
Trotskyist, Communist,

revolutionary!

I must sell!

Years I've been working
for the revolution,

spitting in the
, peeing

on the plate.

So raise the scarlet
banner high, beneath its shade

we'll live and die.

JC, Bert!

My Lord.

Barney Entwhistle.

.

Oh, yes.

Tucker?

What was that song you
were singing last night?

And old German hymn, madame.

Milk or lemon?

Lemon?

I say, where's the governor?

Oh, is that tea, Tucker?

Just the job.

He's in town, trying to
find a way around this mess.

When's he back?

Any time now, if he doesn't
drop in on his mistress first.

We need to get
things sorted out soon.

It's getting damned
awkward in the village.

Awkward?

Well, they expect us
Gurneys to be in everything.

Mrs. Bigger-Jones
and Mrs. Treadwell

all the other old
girls, they thought

it would be a splendid idea
if the new earl was to open

the on Sunday week?

I hardly dare ask,
but naturally, you told

them it would be impossible.

- We'll call 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 mean, I couldn't very well
say that he was ,

could I?

Well, where is he now?

Up there.

Oh.

Ah!

Look what you've done.

Never get tea stains out.

Show some consideration.

He-- it's yoking, isn't it?

Tea, my lord?

Well, there'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 muffins?

Yes, sir.

Shall I bring them up?

No.

I'll be right down.

It is yoking, isn't it?

Or a form of yoking?

Don't give me another
headache, Dinsdale.

You look ill, Mr. Tucker.

Bed, Mr. Tucker, right now.

Thank you, my lord.

Welcome, Dinsdale.

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'm about
to receive let

me make myself truly thankful.

Soon I must be moving
on, sail away, Lalaha,

New Jersey, portside and crew.

First I shall command
a pope to consecrate

a plane load of contraceptives
for the priest ridden Irish.

.

Arise!

Shine, for my light is come,
and the glory of the Lord

is risen upon me.

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.

Mrs. Bigger-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 drag.

Welcome, ladies.

I'm the new lord.

Oh, bother.

You know Lady Claire,
my cousin Dinsdale?

Oh, old 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 and
persuade his lordship to open

our little church .

Do say yes, my lord.

I always say yes,
whatever question.

How splendid.

Now, if you'll excuse
us, we've 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?

Yes-- no!

It-- you make a speech.

On what text, Mother Superior?

Oh, we leave that
to the speaker.

It can be any
topic of interest--

hanging, immigration, or the
standard hold of the unions.

But I felt the speeches
should be about Britain

and our way of life.

Britain?

Mhm.

A flyblown speck
in the North Sea.

You can't kick the natives in
the backstreets of Calcutta.

He's joking again.

Aren't you, my lord?

I'm not laughing, Pamela.

And we can't stay
here, Lady .

Then for Christ's sake, go.

Oh, don't go for my sake.

Oh, delicious.

Home grown.

No, I bought them.

I mean, they go where--

Ladies!

I've decided to begin my second
ministry at your gathering.

Last time I pitched 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, and I--

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, that
your souls dance, your eyes,

sparkle.

Be !

Oh, what is it?

A Watusi walking-stick,
big people the Watusis.

Ladies, come back!

I'll fill your bodies!

Oh, I'm awfully sorry.

Have you seen my father?

I am the resurrection
and the light!

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 Cochran's
on his last legs.

That'll mean a by-election.

Well, what about Mrs.
Bigger-Jones, Mrs. Treadwell?

We'll say the new earl
is eccentric or something.

Better still, heavy drinker.

Be not afraid!

It is I!

But JC, look, I
know who you are.

Maybe they don't, and we,
I mean, that is us-- oh,

let's go have a glass of sherry.

Well, what did
Sir Humphrey say?

Gave me a lot of
expensive legal folderol,

but as things stand, there's
no way of breaking the will.

Cycle
- So?

There's only one possible
solution-- a male heir.

What?

Well, Jack had a son.

Sir Humphrey says we could
easily get him certified.

Because then everything
would pass through the heir.

We could manage the estate
till the boy came of age,

and then that way everything
would remain in the family.

Oh, brilliant.

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.

Right.

Uh, JC, we were just talking
about you and marriage.

We think you should take a wife.

Who from?

I'm sure we could find you
a suitable young goddess.

What?

Oh, most appropriate
.

I can't marry a second time.

You're already married?

August 28th in the
year 1964.

This wife of yours--
what's her name?

Marguerite Gautier.

French, yes.

Gautier, Marguerite Gautier.

Isn't that the lady
of "The Comedians"?

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 Comedians."

He has no wife, but
he believes he has,

which is the same thing.

Why did he pick on
Marguerite Gautier?

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?

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 of Jack,

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
, Dr. Herder.

He's been with the
family for 40 years.

.

How do you find the
new earl, Tucker?

I sniff it.

He's a Gurney, a real Gurney.

You don't find him odd?

Odd?

Yes.

Yes odd, peculiar.

Oh.

You mean nutty?

Yes, he's a nut case.

Most of these
titled flea bags are.

Rich snobs and
privileged assholes

can afford to be bonkers.

They're living in a dream
world, aren't they, sir?

Life's made too easy for them.

They don't have
to earn a living,

so they do just
what they want to.

We'd all look pretty crackers
if we went about doing just

what we wanted to, wouldn't we?

Eh?

Yes.

Yes, I suppose.

left Tucker
30 thousand pounds.

Since then he's
been very outspoken.

My lady?

No, thank you.

Waste not, want not.

Mind having a look
at my back, Doctor?

Lumbago Play acting up again.

Lady of "The Comedians,"
by Alexandre Dumas.

Camille, is La Traviata,
the opera by Verdi.

It's all the same
woman, Marguerite

Gautier, a figure of romance.

My dear chap, you prove
my point ipso facto,

a divine figure of romance.

Oh, 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 would be
impossible to convince him,

Doctor.
- Do you see?

It's a play.

The lady of "The
Comedians"-- it's fiction.

It's a biography of my
Marguerite, affectionately

known as La Dame .

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 into three parts.

The first part he
burnt, the second

he chopped into pieces, the
third he scattered to the wind.

It's all a sign of
something more important.

All right.

If you're god, be
in your godhead.

No, no, no.

A miracle-- show us a miracle.

Here's a miracle.

Where?

This hand.

The 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.

Oh, those.

You see, 10 billion,
million miracles a day,

but you want your conjuring
tricks, your pretty flim flams.

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?

10 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 weeds split the rock.

Believe in me, in
loving goodness.

Raise yourself up.

Rise up, slowly,
slowly, rise up.

One foot, two, three, four.

Slowly, slowly.

Five, six, seven,
eight, nine, ten!

There!

The table floats
ten feet in space!

I see it!

It's a bloody miracle!

Drunken lout.

It didn't rise .

Tucker saw!

Believe him!

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.

Marguerite.

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.

Best you try and pawn it
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 to put the sun.

It's incestuous.

Don't talk about incest.

Madame, I remember your
Jeremy .

You went to school
with a father,

but you went ahead
and seduced the son.

That is incest, madame.

Well, why the hell
didn't you warn us?

No time.

After what that trick
cyclist told me,

I knew we'd never convince
Jack he wasn't married

or that Marguerite didn't exist.

So I telephoned Grace and
explained the position.

She got hold of some theatrical
, came down here.

She put up a first
great show, I thought.

Well, it had impact.

Anyway, Jack believed
that she was Marguerite.

All she has to do
now is to 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.

But he could make
things difficult by having

Jack declared insane before
he's produced an heir for you.

Damn kraut!

You will have to keep
your eye on him, my dear.

I'm going to have my
hands full getting

Grace married and pregnant.

What an entrance!

Beautiful, just 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.

It can't be.

It's wax.

Be careful your husband-to-be
doesn't eat it for breakfast.

You're right, Charlie boy.

She is an ice cold biddy.

Ah, 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 got to 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 have a
damn funny way of showing it.

First you push me into the arms
of your half-dead half-brother,

and then on to 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.

Hey look, there he is!

Well, better get the
show on the road.

Oh, where's
me lousy camellia?

Well, 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.

Damn 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 that JC
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 dreams made flesh.

Sorry, I don't speak French.

Oh.

German?

Italian?

Yiddish?

No.

English.

English.

Should've 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.

Tweet.

Tweet.

Tweet?

Cuckoo.

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, but Judas was a man.

Yes.

Strange business.

Who are you?

A woman.

Descended from Eve?

No, a 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.

I do.

Oh, I'm so 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.

BOTH: We're
going to our blue heaven.

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 blue heaven.

You'll see a
smiling face, a fireplace.

A cozy room.

BOTH: A
little nest that

nestles where the roses bloom.

Sweet Gracey and me.

And
baby makes three.

BOTH: We're
going to our blue heaven.

What are you looking at?

Beauty.

Oh?

Yes, but Jack-- I mean JC--
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 in it too.

But 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!

Well, what are you
doing down there?

It's your negative insinuendo.

Insinuendo?

Insinuendo is insinuation
towards innuendo, brought

on by increased negativism
out of a negative reaction

to your father's positivism.

Well, 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 LOB, DFC, and ADC.

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,
feeling persecuted

is paranoid schizophrenia!

Wretched Dr. H
suffered from same!

I watched.

They fight against me.

Where are the signs aiming
for 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

to eight days after Epiphany.

So Charles, it must
be Tuesday the 12th,

8:00 AM, private chapel,
ordinary license.

Charles, Charles, I have grave
misgivings, grave misgivings.

Misgivings?

About Jack?

No, no, no, about the
bride, Miss Shelley!

Charles, who is she?

Hmm, hmm?

What is she?

Charles, 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.

Mm?

Mm.

My husband's an idiot.

That's not my concern.

The Earl's 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 that Jack

might accept her
if she dressed up

as the Lady of the Camellias.

Uh, 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 pounds for the study

of paranoid schizophrenic rats.

But Charles, need
we be so hasty?

Charles, God in
his infinite mercy

has seen fit to cloud
our nervous senses.

Oh, 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.

Oh.

Hmm!

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 a button
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 is 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.

I see.

And if I press a button,
you'll feel fear, love?

Love?

No.

Desire, yes.

What?

By pressing a little button?

Oh.

Think of the risk, Doctor.

Oh, there is only
one commandment

a doctor need ever worry about.

Thou shalt not advertise.

My heart 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 WC 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.

Bless me!

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!

And- and- and- and- and-
in the face of this company,

to- to- to- 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, Why 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 charge--
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 over the fact

that 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.

W-w-wilt thou, wilt thou
take this woman to thy,

to thy wedded wife, to
live together in holy

wedlock under God's ordinance?

W-w-wilt though love her?

From the bottom of my
soul to the tip of my penis,

like a 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.

Wil-wilt thou take this man
to-to-to thy wedded husband?

I will.

To live together in
ho- holy matrimony?

I will!

You will, yeah.

Who-- who giveth his--

I do!

Oh you, yeah.

Come on, Bertie,
get a move on!

R-R-Repeat, repeat after me.

I, I, JC, take
thee, Grace Shelley,

t-- t-- to my wedded wife.

I, JC.

the holy flying roller,
the morning star,

take thee, Marguerite,
called Grace

Shelley, 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 thee,
JC, to my wedded husband,

better, worse, richer, poorer,
this day, sickness, health,

I plight thee my troth.

Plight thee my troth, yes.

Well, as much as you are
now bound in holy wedlock,

I-- I-- I-- I now
pronoun-- pronoun--

pronounce thee man and wife!

God has joined together,
no man, no-- no man

put asunder in the name of the
Father, the, the, the Son, and

the, the Holy, the Holy Ghost.

God have mercy on me!

It's a bit tatty, Jeeves.

No guests, no reception, two
plates of curled up sandwiches,

and a deformed wedding cake.

Well, it's not my
fault, Your Ladyship.

Oh, 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!

But 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.

GROUP: 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.

You should've- you should've
seen the late Earl's wedding,

m'lady.

Five hundred guests,
the creme de menthe.

Wastrels all.

May their carbonized
bones rot in hell!

Shut up!

I can't say that I like the idea
of you being alone with him.

You're a beauty.

Everything's yours.

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--

And love.

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, we were wed.

Tucker.

Oh, they--

Tucker!

Sorry, sir.

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.

Haha, 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 a 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.

Darling, I'm waiting!

What?

Oh, that's ridiculous!

It's not dignified!

Dignity has nothing
to do with divinity.

Oh, 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.

Remember, God loves you.

God wants you.

God needs you.

Come to me.

Damn!

Keep pouring.

I'm starving.

It was a damn long night.

All right, Tucker.

I'll serve as always.

Well what happened?

Happened?

Last night.

What'd you do?

Rode around on a
three-wheel bike.

Filthy beast.

It must have been one of
the governor's old bikes.

The attic's full of his junk.

So you just rode
about all night then?

First a bike, then me.

Hmm.

His mind may be
wonky, but there's

certainly nothing wrong with
the rest of his anatomy.

We Gurneys are
damnably virile.

I thought you'd be delighted
to find out he's not impotent.

Oh, aye.

Delighted.

Delighted.

Good morning.

Was it successful?

Should have sold
bleeding tickets.

Really, Claire?

How could you ask that?

Well, it was your
idea, remember?

If he was 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.

Now look here, you
granite-faced old dodo--

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?

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 the 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.

Calm, 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.

Congratulations?

On getting your
Golden Hand Grant?

Yes, congratulations, 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 pounds

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 the three sweet
Williams and

and evergreen
for loving memory?

And I mean every word of it.

It's so beautiful.

Thank you.

I've shaken the silver
gong of the universe.

Bong!

Oh, gracious heart, 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.

Glop, glop, glop.

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,
Charles will have JC 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.

Experiment 1.

What does that look like?

Is it a dragon?

A spider?

What does it remind you of?

God.

And this?

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.

Experiment 7.

Your lordship, are you God?

No.

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 shock.

But isn't it dangerous?

No, no, no, no.

I have assistants
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 shouting
at first, but now, listen.

To make
the wounded whole,

there is a balm in Gilead,
to heal the seasick soul.

Can you believe it?

JC has got labor pains, too.

It's called couvade--
sympathetic illness.

Psychosomatic, not
at all unusual.

Oh, I never
developed anything when

Lady Claire here was pregnant.

I'm sure you didn't.

Mighty Mouse, it's roaring!

What are you up to now?

A colleague of mine
is sending in some help.

Yes, a personal favor.

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.

Doctor 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.

JC?

I'm 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 who?

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 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10.

Testing.

Testing.

Have you never seen God before?

I have, sir.

I'm God.

You are not God!

You are what my
snuff bag'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 a foxy
moon loony who thinks he's me.

I'm here!

You're there.

I'm here and there too!

Do not trifle with me, laddie.

I'm Jehovah, of the Old
Testament, the vengeful god!

Away, or you'll be dropped!

But you both can't be gone.

You're trying to split
my mind with his tongue.

Away, laddie, or I'll
burn you to a crispy noodle.

You can't touch me!

I'm the
rock and the !

The goat!

The sacred .

The upright testicle!

The bull!

I saw my son Jamie die.

He had a cancer at the base of
his spine and one on his head.

They put the black
spider treatment on him.

It crawled all over,
cracking the body

with his nipples!

I could cure your bursting
by a release of 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 your Irishman.

I'm earthed!

I'm dead.

Recharge!

This is your responsibility,
doctor, damn you!

If we lose this child--

I say, super news!

dead.

This means .

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.

Why
persecutes 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.

Quick!

Right, .

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 and contested God!

I made the world in my
image, and I'm .

Thy peacock is a moth
which only lives two days.

With no mouth to eat or
drink, it flies miles

to love, breathe, and die.

Consider a life of love
without one selfish act.

And they put me
away for 17 years!

Only the sick, with spiders'
webs in their brains,

clack on about
love and goodness.

I am a brave god for bashing
babes' heads out on rocks!

A brave God for strong stomachs!

Where 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 dumped the
excrement of the universe.

People care for love!

We don't want love!

We want a big fat
slice of revenge!

Kiss my ass, Tucker,
you unmitigated stinker.

No God of love
made this world.

I have seen a girl of
four whose nails have

been torn out by her father.

I have seen the mountains
of gold teeth and hair,

and the millions
boiled down for soap!

What kind of God
t-t-t-turns his

back on his people
and breaks wind

and the stage clouds the globe?

I am the high voltage man,
closer to God than you!

You sentimental !

The light!

The light of truth.

Here's the truth!

You're Jack Gurney, the
14th Earl of Gurney.

And I'm the Count
of !

You're lying!

The family tricked
you into marriage.

They wanted an heir.

I'm not, I'm not .

And if the baby
turns out to be a boy,

they'll have you in a straight
jacket before you can--

No, stop!

I am the father!

I'm splitting!

Crowned!

Crowned!

Coming out!

Crowned Bob.

I am the father!

You're the father of nothing!

1 million votes.

2 million votes.

3 million votes.

4 million votes.

5 million votes.

6 million votes.

7 million votes.

8 million votes.

9 million, 10 million.

Get out of it.

Jack.

What?

Jack.

My name is--

That's right.

Your name is Jack.

It's worked.

Hallelujah!

Hallelujah!

Right, .

Jack?

My name's Jack.

It's a boy!

A boy!

Jack.

I'm Jack.

I'm Jack.

I'm Jack.

Oh for the wings or the wings
of a dove, far away, far away

would I roam.

Vincent Henry
Edward Ralph Gurney,

I baptise thee in the name
of the Father and of the son

and of the Holy Ghost.

Amen.

What a pair of lungs.

He's a trooper.

Coochie coochie coochie!

Oh, he's a splendid little
fellow, isn't he, Bertie?

A little newly filled
in the Holy Spirit.

The somewhat leaky vessel.

Leaky or not, he saved
you Gurneys from extinction.

What about his lordship?

The family came to a
decision some time ago

that after certain
battles were cleared up,

he'd be put away permanently.

That was before child.

Everything's changed.

I hear he's improved so far.

So of course he may slip
back into darkness's shadow.

Sometimes it's worse.

Now he's not completely potty.

I mean, we'll 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 byelection coming
up, it's getting too dangerous.

I think it'd be best all
around if he were put away.

It would 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 near
an acceptable norm.

Frankly, I don't know
if it's permanent.

I do you mustn't
have him committed.

This case could become
classical psychology.

Freud's , now
Herder's Earl of Gurney.

Call me Jack.

You say he's recovering.

Jack?

A pleasant name.

Jack.

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 re-- re-- re--
relax

overall impression
of superiority

and volatile thoughts.

Hordham's bloody network!

Hold, sir.

Hold, hold, hold.

How do you feel, Jack?

Lazarus felt like I feel--
holder of .

liquid
street unstable.

Backs, back, back, back.

Be patient.

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, m'lord.

Thank you, Tuck.

An invaluable man, Tuck.

There are some here who
don't think so, m'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 wanted to get
the feel of terra firma.

I must learn to keep my mouth
shut, bowels open and never

volunteer.

Come, Tuck.

Well, is 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.

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 thoughts
are done to me.

I mean, what was that all about?

Parallelia.

They're a speech disturbance.

It would be simpler if a
man were paranoid one minute

and cured the next.

Unfortunately, it
takes a little longer.

Well, what about all
these 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 certify Jack insane.

You devious, horrible bastard!

Oh, Jack!

Do you think he's done
the decent thing at last?

That could have been me.

You're waving that gun about
all over the place, m'lord.

Not that anybody would care.

Nobody would weep for
poor creeping Tuck.

Tuck!

Well, I'm not ready for
the fiery furnace yet.

Awful lot of living to do.

Girls by the hundred.

The 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?

Disappointed?

I was only trying
to do what's expected.

I recall it's a sign of normalcy
in our circle to slaughter

anything that moves.

All I did was--

You bloody maniac!

I've been shot!

Poachers!

After him, Tucker!

Come on, ya devil!

Hey!

What's your name then?

Could you come here?

Oh Father, could you help me--

I know.

I had an accident
with an old gun.

I've stolen 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.

Odd expression.

We'll be all right, Jack.

What a family.

Enough to send anyone
around the bend.

The only sensible thing I've
done in the last eight years

has been to marry you.

Well don't stay out too long.

Charles is a bloody moron.

I'll have his guts for garters.

Soft.

Softly.

Down, down.

Oh let me keep it down.

Pianissimo!

Dap down!

Dap down.

Down.

I'm a soft grub

They'll rip me open, nail
my brain to my skull!

Thug!

Thug!

That means you!

Thug!

Thug!

Silence when you speak!

Silence!

Steady the baths!

Waiter?

I say, waiter!

There's a mustache 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?

Hm?

Lordship?

It's the man from the loony bin.

He's in the library.

Watch yourself.

Right.

There 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.

Snifter.

No?

You should know why I'm here.

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-- talk.

Do you still believe
you're Christ, my lord?

Are you God?

Come, sir.

Are you the god of love?

Hero may be more clever.

What?

Ruckby 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,
dressed in the old light blue.

We'll recollect our races.

We'll to the flag be true.

A But we'll still swing
together and swear

by the best of schools.

But we'll still swing
together and swear

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 I went to school, the
first thing one heard-- 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

can't 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.

Eight years?

That accounts for you not being
at any of the old boys or union

dinners.

I went around
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-- --
wasted years.

I woke up the other
morning with gray hairs.

Gray hairs and duty neglected.

Our country is being destroyed!

You're mocked in the stand
if you talk of patriotism

and the old queen.

Discipline is gone.

They're sacking 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.

It's absolutely marvelous.

Oh, honey!

I'm 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 is 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
schnozzle 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 around, right?

You know what I mean, right?

Right!

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.

Deformed, unfinished,
sent before my time

into this breathing world.

I'm cured of fantasy
obsessions, paranoid delusions.

I master words.

I-- straighten up there--
am-- close up with I,

you horrible little word--

God.

I am God.

Not the God of Love,
but God Almighty.

I massacred the Malachites and
the seven nations of Canaan.

I hacked Agog to pieces and
blasted the baron fig tree,

for the day of
vengeance is 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?

I'm Jack-- cunning
Jack, quiet Jack,

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.

Mary, Annie, Elizabeth,
Katherine, Alice, Marie Kelly.

Six little whores,
glad to be alive.

One saddles up to Jack,
and then there are five.

When they see
how Jack's changed,

they'll spread the word.

Then everyone will know
he's back to normal.

Well I don't think he is.

Oh you're just siding
with your father.

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 hunch

to invite Jack to come along.

Oh, I'm still a ladyship.

60 miles out of town, an awful
lot of cap touching and bullock

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--
if I loved him.

Your manservant heard him.

When 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?

We've met.

Well, you remember.

You asked me if I loved.

Please.

Not in public.

I keep telling Pamela
not to brood about it.

Let's have no talk of bestial
orgasms, erotic tuggings.

It burns high voltage
holes in the brain.

It's been proved
in oscillographs.

My husband hates
anything suggestive.

I hear that you
got Sir Barrington

Cochran to speak at
your church

before he passed away.

He made a splendid
speech about

the rise of crime .

I shall campaign actively
for the reintroduction

of the death penalty.

Bravo.

You mean there's
no death penalty

and England's
green and pleasant?

Well, surely you
knew that they--

We're a bit out of touch.

The hangman holds
our society together.

He was 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 its 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 a fibula, crack.

Then the tibia,
patella and femur.

Crack, crack, crack!

Then the corpus, ulna,
and radius, crack!

Disconnect dem bones,
them dry bones.

Disconnect dem
bones, dem dry bones.

Disconnect dem
bones, dem dry bones.

Now 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 back bone,

your back bone's connected
to your hip bone,

your hip bone's connected
to your side bone.

Now 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.

It's frightening.

God .

And send you a fine fair fox.

Join me for a cigar instead.

No thank you, Jack.

It's up the wooden staircase
to bed .

Well don't be
too long, darling.

I'm just going to kiss
little Jack goodnight.

singing.

You were wonderful
at the humt today.

I'm still not word perfect.

All that 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 smile.

I like your smile.

Before I was only sorry for you.

Oh before, Madame.

Before, I was a mass of light.

Mad, you see.

Now I'm sane.

The world sweats into
my brain, Madame.

Don't keep calling me Madame.

It's hard to look at
people from down wind.

They stink.

It's terrible.

But it's a real thing.

I've always wanted
to find the real thing.

You'll remember our
first talk together.

I remember nothing.

Explode.

Only feel, you said.

Poor Jack.

Why do you remember
now what I said then

when I don't remember myself?

Because you're so-- different.

I'm trembling like
I used to tremble

at shadows when I was a child.

I'm no shadow.

I'm flesh and blood.

Touch.

Perhaps I'm not really
dead, only sleeping.

Wake me with a kiss.

Are you accosting me?

That's right, .

Cockles and mussels!

Cockles and mussels alive!

Alive!

Alive oh!

Jack?

Yes?

Are you pleased
this has happened?

We were destined to meet.

That sounds romantic.

More, please.

Orgasm, copulation,
fornication.

Gangrene shoulder 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 necked down to
your bloody membrane, Mary.

So soft, tender.

Calves.

Tender tongues.

Ear lobes.

Hearts.

Tits.

Nipples.

Lover.

The sword of the lord
is filled with blood.

Let us stop talking, Jack.

Make me immortal with a kiss.

I'm alive!

What's going on?

Is she dead?

He's Jack the Ripper!

Oh, Lady Claire.

Oh, thank .

Could I be of any assistance?

One less!

Praise the lord!

Hallelujah!

Hallelujah!

Hallelujah!

What?

Good God!

Oh!

All right.

Who's the impudent clown
responsible for this?

The super had a word
with him before we left.

He's a close friend of Sir
Charles Gurney's, you know.

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 Ulyanov Lenin.

German Mao Zedong.

So that's his little game.

She was beautiful
as

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.

Israeli And
I think of her so fondly.

No no no, it's not
such a terrible death.

There, there, there.

Forgive an old man's wavering.

Lean on me.

Trust God's judgment.

There, there dear boy.

You make an old man ashamed.

You have been such a great,
great source of strength

to me Jack.

I won't forget this mate.

I won't forget this.

Jack, you're the instrument
that restored my faith.

I-- -- feel reborn.

I found a way again, a way.

Come, my boy.

Let me walk humbly
with my God, my God.

Yes.

How could anything
like this happen to us?

What was mother thinking?

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're going.

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,

whereabouts was he standing?

Who?

Well, the baby's asleep.

What are you up doing?

Oh, Brockett, this
is our ladyship.

He wants to know how we found
Tucker beside Claire's body.

Oh, here.

By 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, foolish, to
be booted out years ago.

But he's not the only
one you should check.

What about my nephew?

I think that's rather
disgraceful, father.

Charles, you've been
through a lot, but I warn you.

I'm not saying
he's involved but--

But?

I'll give you but!

Charles, you're not
doing this for Claire.

You're doing it because
you are jealous.

Because I love my husband.

Madame, you will
never be a Gurney.

I'd rather be dead.

Is this the way to behave
in the presence of death?

Forgive him, Jack.

Forgive him, my boy.

They know not what they do.

Thank you.

Dinsdale, shouldn't you answer
those letters of condolence?

Nonsense!
Let them wait.

No, no, no, no.

Jack's right.

Create 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.

Why was 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 heard Tucker singing.

Mhm.

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?

Your ladyship?

Sir Charles?

Bishop?

Get him, Fraser!

What's this?

What are you doing?

All right, all right!

What's the idea?

I've got a plane to catch.

You going somewhere, Tucker?

Mr. Tucker, flatfoot.

It looks it, doesn't it?

It's cockles and
champagne for yours truly.

Yay, Paris, where are 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've got questions
I want answering.

Now why were you found standing
like this beside the body?

Eh?
Eh?

Shock.

That's it.

Shock.

Shock?

I'll give you shock, my lad.

I've 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.

Right I am!

What's it to you how I spend
my leisure time, flatfoot?

You're a suspect
in a murder case.

You concealed certain
facts about yourself.

What else are you
hiding, Tucker?

Suspect?

I'm a suspect?

This is all talk, 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
herd you down here in this room

a half hour before.

Oh, no.

You're wrong about
that, my lord.

If my 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, master Jack.

The old Earl, just
before he died,

said, look after that
feeble-minded idiot, Jack,

for me Tuck.

I could have gone, but I stayed.

Tuck, it was you.

Spawn out of envy,
hate, revenge.

You killed her!

Oh, damn, damn.

You dirty old man, inspector.

Damn you, Tucker.

Judas Jack Iscariot.

You've shown me down the sewer.

You're just like all
the rest of them.

And I know why.

You did it.

You and Sir Charles, standing
there like a .

You Gurneys don't draw
the line at murder.

Upper class excrement!

You want to do me dirt.

Just because I know too much.

I know the 1% of the
population owns half

the property in this country.

And that vomity 1%
wants kosher killing.

so the blue bloods
drains out slow and easy.

So come rains, come rally.

And the last fight, let us face.

The international army
unites the human race.

I am only a strolling vagabond.

So goodnight, pretty maiden.

Goodnight.

It's what I've always said.

You can't give the
working class money.

If he hadn't had
that 30,000 pounds.

Fancy.

Old Jeeves!

Well Lord, I'd like
to say what a pleasure

it's been meeting you.

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.

Engarde!

No, no.

I cured you.

You couldn't turn violent.

You believe more or less
what other people believe.

Your job is done here, doctor.

I'm adjusted.

I brush my teeth
twice daily and smile.

You call that being adjusted?

Behavior which
would be considered

insanity in a tradesman is
looked on as mild eccentricity

in a lord.

What 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--

It's time to 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.

Cock a doodle do!

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!

No!

Yes!

May God forgive me.

Never!

What proof have you?

I don't need proof.

I know.

Physician, hear 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.

Oh, doctor.

He's right.

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.

Clear as death.

One of those terrible ironies,
nothing to do with the case.

Unpleasant as he is, the
good lord is himself again.

My head's splitting!

I've had an abdomen full
of the upper classes!

Claire.

I should have specialized
in heart diseases.

Cock a doodle doo.

You made me deny you.

Cock a doodle doo.

Cock a doodle doo.

Cock a doodle doo.

Good, good.

Only a small item
on Page 3 today.

What are you doing?

I'm still answering these
letters of condolence.

Damn, let them 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?

What, now?

So soon after illness?

Don't you think-- are
you ready for them?

Are they ready for me, Madame?

We're going to work as a
team once I am 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 you made
gibbering in the upper house.

You're so bloody
tactful, Charles.

Look, if Jack 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?

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.

It will happen to you one day.

Suddenly you'll
be standing there

and nobody's paying
any attention to you.

You start coughing.

Your mouth goes dry.

Some white, watery dribbles.

Well, it's hard!

Because inside, you're still 21.

But your feet go flop, flop,
flop And-- look at the--

Inside,
one is still 21.

There, there, Father.

That's enough.

That's enough.

You've had a good
innings, but it's milk

rusks and beddy byes for you.

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.

Honey, why Annie?

Annie, Elizabeth,
Katherine, Alice, .

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.

Don't worry, it's only nerves.

You'll kill them.

In time.

And then you'll get
around to me, I hope.

Promise?

Oh, Jack.

You're so lovely when you smile.

Oh, Jack.

Must get my grouch thought
in order, flow and contra

Don't worry.

You're one of
them, only more so.

Just be your own
sweet self and they'll

adore you like I adore you.

Oh, Jack.

See if the car is ready.

Annie.

Ass lickers!

I don't know nothing!

I want justice!

I, Jack Arnold Alexander
Tankard, 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 and
the increase of immortality.

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.

Aye.

I believe that the sissy
treatment of young thugs

is utterly wrong.

Hear hear.

Me 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.

Hear hear.

My lords.

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!

It--

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 oh 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 eye 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 of
Jesus, going on before.

Christ the royal master,
leads against the foe.

Forward into battle,
see his banners go!

Onward Christian solders!

Marching as to war, with the
cross of Jesus going on before.

Rainbow in the sky, the
sunshine in my eyes.

You're everything to me.

Oh, my Jack.

The silver running stream,
the lazy summer dream.

You're everything to me.

Oh, my Jack.

You're my world.

You're my life.

You're my dream come--

I'm Jack.

I'm Jack.

I'm Jack.