Jeeves and Wooster (1990–1993): Season 3, Episode 2 - Bertie Ensures Bicky Can Continue to Live in Manhattan (or, the Full House) - full transcript

Bertie is faced with problems. One is how to allow the indolent 'Bicky' Bickersteth to remain in Manhattan and still receive an allowance from his luxury-hating father, the Duke of Chiswick. The other involves reclusive poet Rocky, who lives an austere life in a cabin in the country, which inspires his verse. His aunt Isabel wants him to move to the big city and send her his impressions of the night-life there, which is anathema to him. There is a solution, of course, which involves a little mutual aid, but until Jeeves sorts it out, it's Bertie who finds himself living in neither one place nor the other.

New York dead!

The damnable, hellish,

vile, corrupt,

iniquitous, blackhearted, weaselly gang
that is the liquor business

killed it!


Now seize the day!

Jimmy Mundy is here to take New York
by the scruff of its dirty neck,

and make it hit the trail of salvation.


(Audience) Hallelujah!



Bee. Bee!

Be. Be! The past is dead.

Tomorrow is not born.

Be today.

Be. Be!

The tango and the foxtrot didn't
kill New York, brothers and sisters.

The bootleg booze and the jazz music
didn't kill it.

But they
are what is going to bring New York

down, down, down, down!

Down to the bottomless pit of hell.

Be! Be today!

lsn't this good?

You're gonna be saved,
brothers and sisters,

whether you like it or whether you don't!

This means you!



- Jolly invigorating, Jeeves.
- Most enlightening, sir.

You got another cable waiting for you,
Mr Wooster.

- Cable?
- l never did see a person get so many.

lt come about six o'clock.

Hmm, bit of a stumer, Jeeves. ''Come
at once. Situation desperate. Rocky.''

ls there any indication
of what the situation might be?

Not a hint, Jeeves. Nor of who Rocky is.
Bit of a mystery, eh?

Does the missive say
whence the communication came, sir?

Er... West Neck, Long lsland.

Then l might suggest, sir, that it comes
from Mr Rockmetteller Todd, the poet.

Good Lord, Jeeves, you're right.
Old Rocky. Well, well, well.

Desperate situation, eh? Poor old Rocky.

- Tomorrow morning, l think. Don't you?
- As you say, sir.

Thank you, cabbie.

On no account let me agree
to us staying overnight.

Very good, sir. Might one enquire why?

Of all the places
on this great planet of ours,

West Neck has been chosen
to be the most unexciting.

The last time anything happened here
was in 1842, when a tree fell over.

They still talk about it in the village.

Bertie! l knew you wouldn't let me down.

Listen to this! Just listen to this.

Wait a minute! Can't a chap
hang up his hat before he's read to?

Never mind hats. This is important.

''My dear Rockmetteller, all my life
l have longed to visit New York,

''and see for myself the wonderful
gay life of which l have read so much.

''l fear that now it will be impossible
for me to fulfil my dreams.''

- What do you make of it so far, Jeeves?
- lts meaning seems obscure, sir.

Perhaps one might enquire
from whom the letter derived?

My Aunt lsabel, of course.

''l am old and worn out.
l seem to have no strength left in me.''

- Sad, Jeeves.
- Extremely affecting...

She's bursting with health. She's got
this idea that New York would kill her.

So though it's been her ambition
to go there, she stays where she is.

Like the chap whose heart
was in the highlands, chasing deer.

Can l get on with this?

''So l have decided that if l cannot enjoy
the marvels of the city myself,

''l can at least enjoy them through you.

''You will have all my money
when l am gone,

''but l have decided now to send you a
substantial sum of money each month.''

- Well, this is good news, Rocky.
- On one condition!

''My condition
is that you live in New York,

''and plunge into the prismatic life of
the city, as l have always wanted to do.

''Above all, l want you to write me letters
at least once a week,

''giving a description of what you do,

''so that l may enjoy second-hand what
my health prevents me from enjoying.''


''Your affectionate aunt,
lsabel Rockmetteller.''

What am l going to do?

New York's packed with theatres
and late night revues.

Good Lord, l'd have to dress for dinner
every night. l won't do it, l can't do it.

l don't get out of my pyjamas till five in
the afternoon. Then l put on a sweater.

- Don't listen, Jeeves.
- (Groaning)


l'm sorry, Jeeves.
You shouldn't have heard that.

l shall be better directly, sir.

Why can't you just write and explain?

l could if l wanted her to get round
to her lawyers and cut me out of her will.

Hmm. What do you suggest, Jeeves?

Sir, if Mr Todd adheres to his expressed
intention of remaining in the country,

the only possibility is to secure
the services of a second party,

to gather the experiences, and these
could be conveyed to him in a report,

upon which it would be possible
to base the suggested correspondence.

Could he make it a little clearer, Bertie?

l thought it was going to make sense,
but it flickered.

lt takes a bit of getting used to.

You need someone to go round town,
take notes, and work them into letters.

- Who'd do it?
- Ah, well, that's the...

Bicky! Bicky Bickersteth!

(Cat screeching)


(Heated voices)

- What ho.
- Whaddya want?

- Good afternoon, madam.
- Don't you ''Good afternoon'' me.

- l'm a respectable woman.
- l have no reason to doubt it.

We are calling upon Mr Bickersteth.

Next floor up.

Hey, big fella!

You're kinda cute, the way you talk.

- Madam is too kind.
- lf you want to split a beer any time...

l shall certainly bear your generous
invitation in mind if l am in the vicinity.

- You've made a conquest, Jeeves.
- Thank you, sir.

- (Typing)
- Bicky, earning the daily roll and butter.

- So, hard at it, Bicky?
- What?

Oh, no. Writing to my father. l seem
to spend most of my time doing that.

With respect, sir,
if you were to take the bull by the horns

and inform your father that
you were in New York, not Colorado...

- l can't.
- ls there something l don't know about?

Yes. My fa... Hang on,
how do you know about all this, Jeeves?

l chanced to meet His Grace's butler
before we left England, sir.

He informed me that he had happened
to overhear His Grace speaking to you.

His Grace?
ls your father a bishop, Bicky?

Mr Bickersteth's father
is the Duke of Chiswick, sir.

Does that mean you ought to be
Lord something or other?

Yes, but l don't like to call myself that.

Anyway, when the old boy turfed me out,
he said l was a brainless nincompoop.

The idea was to pack me off to some
blighted locality, name of Colorado,

where they'd teach me ranching,
or whatever it is they call it.

l couldn't stick it there,
so l came here instead.

But l couldn't tell the old man.
He'd cut off my allowance.

- So you pretend you're still in Colorado.
- Quite.

One burger, medium. One rare,
and one ham and eggs, over easy.

- You wanna shake with that?
- Er, thank you, no.

l shall just sit here quietly, l think.

- ls he being funny?
- No, he always talks like that.

She means, do you want a milk shake?

Oh. Erm... thank you, no.
A cup of coffee, if you please.

- You got it.
- l don't think l have.

lf you'll pardon me for saying so,
Mr Bickersteth,

it is not that your father
wishes you to be in Colorado.

Were you to inform him you were
involved in a successful venture,

it would not matter to him
where that venture had its base.

You mean l could tell him l've got
some terrific business in New York?

Something of the kind, sir.

Bicky, fascinating as all that is,
it isn't what Jeeves and l came about.

We've come to offer you a job.

- Well paid?
- Wait till you hear.

You go to as many parties, nightclubs,
restaurants, theatres as you can,

all expenses paid, and write
a short report for a friend of mine.

- And get paid as well?
- And be paid for it. There's no catch.

Two shakes,
and a coffee for the big fella.

- Thank you.
- Say, you're pretty cute. You know that?

- Thank you. So l have been informed.
- (Giggling)

You really slay me!

You have a fascination
for the women of this country.

Yes, it is a problem, sir.

There's no chance
of your switching it off?

- l regret not, sir. l have to learn to bear it.
- As do the rest of us.

Now, Bicky, about this painting
the town red. When can you start?

Well, let me see.

- When did you have in mind?
- Well, we hoped for tonight.

l can't. l've got a novel to write
and three short stories to finish.

l couldn't possibly do it.



Very frustrating.
There must be somebody

who is willing to sacrifice himself
on the altar of nightlife?

lndeed, sir.

- Jeeves!
- Sir?

You could do it. Good heavens,
why didn't we think of that before?

One doesn't like
to push oneself forward, sir.

(Rocky) ''My dearest Aunt,
how can l ever thank you enough

''for giving me the opportunity
to live in this astounding city?''

(Jeeves) ''New York
seems more wonderful every day.''

''l was out with the crowd
at the Midnight Revels the other night.

''Everyone was there.
Oscar Hammerstein looked in,

''and got off a good story
about Flo Ziegfeld.''

(Both) ''Billie Burke looked upset.''

''She's very protective towards Flo.

''The show at the Revels is wonderful.
l'm enclosing a programme.''

''Tuesday night, a few of us
went to the Frolics on the Roof.''

(Jeeves) ''Bea Lilly gave us her
impression of President Hoover.

''Muted, since Mrs Hoover was nearby.

''l thought l was in for a quiet night,
but fate decreed otherwise.

''l ran into a few friends
and they took me along to the 21 .

''lt was Thelma Gaultier's birthday,
so we all had to wear hats.

''Doug Fairbanks did all sorts of stunts
and made us roar.

''On screen or off, he is a most
energetic fellow, and full of charm.''

(Rocky) ''Mary Pickford wasn't with him
last night, but she sent me her regards.

''And so, to Harlem.
The music is astounding.''

(Jeeves) ''My piano lessons
are really paying dividends.

''Though Willy 'The Lion' Smith says
l've still got to work on my left hand.

''The new show at the Apollo
is even better than the last.

''Josephine Baker really cooking with
gas in the Terpsichorean department.''

(Both) ''Home at 3:30.''

(Rocky) ''lt's odd. Even with only three
or four hours' sleep, l never get tired.

''The finest musicians in the land
find their way to 52nd Street.

''The skill and versatility of some of them
is enough to take your breath away.''

(Jeeves) ''Cole Porter's new musical,
The Gay Divorce, opened last night.

''The party afterwards
was almost as good as the show.

''And everybody who is anybody
was there.

''l danced with an actress called Bette
Davis, who asked me to go to the coast

''and try my luck in movies,
but l don't think so.''

(Rocky) ''Cole looked tired.

''He told George Burns and me
that rehearsals had been difficult.

''But like myself, he really thrives
on the noise and excitement

''and sheer energy that is Manhattan.

''l must stop now.

''Pardon My English opens tonight,
and l promised l'd be there.

''Your affectionate nephew, Rocky.''

(# Piano plays Pinetop's Boogie Woogie)

- What do you think, Jeeves?
- Sir?

l heard the most extraordinary fellow
playing this at the Onyx Club.

- Pinetop's Boogie Woogie.
- lndeed, sir.

By the late Mr Clarence 'Pinetop' Smith.

- You've heard of it, Jeeves?
- lndeed, sir.

l was fortunate enough
to attend a performance of that item

by Mr Meade 'Lux' Lewis at Jack
And Charlie's 21 , only a few nights ago.

He also gave us a spirited rendition
of Honkytonk Train Blues.

- A most stimulating composition.
- l don't think l know that one.

- lf you'd like me to demonstrate, sir...
- By all means, Jeeves.

- Nightclubbing again tonight, Jeeves?
- lndeed, no, sir. A sporting occasion.

(Jeeves) ''l have not yet touched on
the sporting scene.

''The sports fanatic is well catered for.

''ln baseball, basketball
and the roller derby,

''the spirit of fair play is exemplified.

'''May the best man win' is the cry.''

- Good morning, sir.
- l've only been asleep for ten minutes.

- What time is it?
- Seven o'clock, sir.

Did l ask to be wakened
three and a half hours before breakfast?

l'm sorry, sir,
but Mr Bickersteth is here, sir.

He said it is a matter
of the direst emergency.

(Heavy sigh)

Bicky, old top, l'm not, generally
speaking, a man to complain...

Oh, Bertie, thank God! l'm in the most
frightful trouble. l don't know what to do.

My father's arriving this morning.

Did you get me up to keep me up-to-date
with your family's engagements?

No, you ass! l wrote to my father
as Jeeves suggested,

telling him l'd dropped
into a business wheeze here,

- and l'd decided to chuck in the ranch.
- Yes, yes, yes!

- He's coming to stay with me.
- What's wrong with that?

Everything. l've given him
the impression l'm living here in style.

- l can't have him in the boarding house.
- Let him stay in a hotel.

He won't. He isn't coming to stay
out of family affection.

He's coming because it is free,
and he is the biggest cheapskate alive.

What am l going to do?

l don't know.
What's he going to do, Jeeves?

To what extent, sir,
if the question is not a delicate one,

are you prepared to assist
Mr Bickersteth?

Well, l'll do everything l can, of course.

Then. if l might make the suggestion, sir,
you might lend Mr Bickersteth this flat.

(Bertie) What?

Mr Bickersteth could give His Grace
the impression that he was the owner.

And, with your permission, sir,
l could convey the notion

that l was in Mr Bickersteth's employ,
and not in yours.

What about me?

You would be residing here temporarily,
sir, as Mr Bickersteth's guest.

- l really couldn't impose like that.
- No, well...

l don't know how to thank you enough.
How do we proceed, Jeeves?

His Grace's ship does not dock
until ten o'clock, sir.

l would advocate the dispatching
of a wireless message to His Grace,

notifying him of your change of address.

You could meet him at the dock
and return here directly.

Would that meet the situation, sir?


(Megaphone) Passengers are reminded
to clear customs

before entering New York City.

First-class passengers to pier 77,
all others, pier 88.

(Man) Two dollars? That's iniquitous!
(Second man) What?

A journey of that length
should cost a shilling, no more.

A what?

From London docks to my house
in Berkeley Square, one shilling!

- Your house, where?
- Can l help, sir?

This fellow is charging me
eight shillings.

What are you, some kinda cheapskate?

You must be the Duke of Chiswick.

- Are you a newspaperman?
- Bertie Wooster. A friend of your son's.

Thank God.
Those reporters get everywhere.

Be a good chap
and give this fellow what he wants.

l don't understand their money.
l'll settle with you later.

How much?

Eight shillings! Eight shillings
for a cab drive of a mile and a half!

l'll swear it was only a mile and a half.

There you go, sir.

- Oh, thanks.
- Thank you.

How much did you give that man?

- Man?
- For bringing the bags in.

- Oh, l gave him a quarter, l think.
- That's a whole shilling!

ls it? Oh.

- Heavens above, man! Don't you know?
- Well, l don't really...

Ah, Jeeves. This is Jeeves, sir,
my... Bicky's valet.

- ls there anything l can get your Grace?
- A manservant!

- My son employs a manservant?
- Oh, yes, absolutely.

l say, would you care for a cup of tea?

- Jeeves, bring some tea, would you?
- Very good, Mr Wooster.

This luxurious flat,
does it belong to my son Francis?

Oh, yes, absolutely. l'm just staying here
at the moment. l don't normally live here.

- Must be terribly expensive.
- lt is.

l don't know that, of course.
Just a guess.

- But everything costs a lot over here.
- Oh-ho-ho!

This is a terrible country, Mr Wooster.
Terrible country!

Oh, l don't know. Got its points.

Have you any idea how much
my son pays for this flat, Mr Wooster?

Oh, well, l don't know that, of course,
because l'm a guest.

About five hundred dollars a month,
l think.

A hundred pounds a month?

Well, he's doing awfully well now,
you know, old Bicky.

ln the past, he may have seemed
a chump. That's all quite different now.

Oh, look, cigarettes. The fact is
that New York often bucks fellows up,

and makes 'em show a flash of speed.

- Something in the air, l dare say.
- l'm amazed.

Do you know
the nature of my son's business?

- The nature of it?
- Mmm.

Well... erm... Just, sort of...
How can l put it?

A business, don't you know? The sort of
thing Rockefeller and all those coves do.

Well, not exactly the same. But...
Good heavens, is that the time?

l'm sorry to leave, sir, but l've got to see
a few of the lads elsewhere. Toodle-oo.

''My dear Aunt lsabel,
l was surprised to get your letter

''saying that you don't want me to write
any more reports on New York nightlife.

''l thought you were enjoying them.
l've certainly enjoyed writing them.

''l only hope this doesn't indicate any
further deterioration in your health.

''Your affectionate nephew, Rocky''

- Morning.
- Good to see you, sir.

Jeeves, how are things going? Where is
everybody? Bicky? The Duke of Bicky?

His Grace desired to see
some of the sights of the city, sir.

l expect Mr Bickersteth is bucked
with the way things are going.

- Not altogether, sir. No.
- Oh? What's the trouble now?

The scheme which l took
the liberty of suggesting

has unfortunately not answered
entirely satisfactorily, sir.

But the Duke thinks Bicky's doing well?

lndeed, sir. He has decided to cancel
Mr Bickersteth's monthly annuity,

on the grounds that he no longer
requires pecuniary assistance.

What? Great Scott, Jeeves, this is awful.

Well, poor old Bicky.

l shall rest the bean for an hour, Jeeves.
There is much to think about here.

Very good, sir.


Whatever they're selling, tell them
we have an ample supply already.

Certainly, sir.

Good afternoon.

- Miss Rockmetteller, sir.
- Miss who?


Rocky's aunt!

- Are you Mr Cole Porter?
- No.

- Mr Ziegfeld?
- No.

- You must be somebody.
- l'm Bertie Wooster.

- ls that somebody?
- Well...

l don't recall Rockmetteller
mentioning you in his letters.

Rockmetteller writes
such wonderful letters.

His descriptions of life in the metropolis
evoked such excitement in me

that l experienced a miraculous cure.

Where is Rockmetteller?

Ah, well... Where is Mr Rockmetteller,
Jeeves? Do we know?

Mr Rockmetteller went out
in the automobile, earlier this afternoon.

So he did.

He gave us to understand that he might
be somewhat late in returning, sir.

You seem very much at home here,
young man.

- Are you a friend of Rockmetteller's?
- Oh, yes, rather. Yes.

Well, you need to be, the way you treat
his apartment as if it were your own.

Why do you keep opening and closing
your mouth like that? Are you ill?

Would you like some tea?

Jeeves. She seems to have got it into her
head that this place belongs to Mr Todd.

Yes, sir.

We agreed that Mr Todd's letters should
be addressed from this apartment,

in order that Mr Todd should appear
to possess a central residence.

She seems to look upon me
as someone who hangs around Mr Todd,

- touching him for meals and shirts.
- Most disturbing, sir.

What if the duke comes back?

She thinks it's Rocky's flat,
he thinks it's Bicky's.

One must hope for the best, sir.

Heart within and God our head seem
to be required by these circumstances.


Jeeves! She's not here.
She's disappeared.

Perhaps it was just a dream,
a trick of the light.

Mr...? What is your name, again?

- What are you doing in there?
- l beg your pardon?

l mean to say, that's a bedroom.

l can see that perfectly well for myself,


This room will suit me perfectly.

lf you will prepare the room for me,

There's really no need for you
to wait around for my nephew.

- What...?
- We now know he will be late returning.

He will naturally wish to be alone
with me when he does so. Goodbye.

- No!
- l beg your pardon.

Just singing. l like
to keep the old larynx up to muster.

We've just been to the top of
the Empire State. You can see for miles.

Have you seen
the view from your window?

- lt's a brick wall.
- Really? No, come and have a look.

l don't want to see the view.
l want some tea.

- Oh, l wouldn't... lt's cold.
- l was just about to throw it away.

- Time to look at the view.
- What's the matter?

Matter? Nothing at all.

- What are you doing?
- He's going to love this view.

- What's going on?
- She must not see him.

- Miss Rockmetteller!
- Still here?

- Still here.
- Who are you?

- You're not anybody, are you, Bicky?
- Well, l...

l am going out for a walk,
until Jeeves has done my room.

Good. There are some wonderful walks
round here, yes.

- You will be gone before l come back.
- Oh, yes, we'll all be gone, yes.


- Open this door!
- There's somebody in that room., it's an earthquake.

- An earthquake?
- A tremor, really.

- Nothing to worry about.
- Francis!

There's somebody in there.

lt must be Jeeves. lt's Jeeves.

Oh, dear, it's stuck.
Jeeves, the door's jammed again.

- lt keeps jamming after a tremor.
- This door is locked!

- He said it's locked.
- Yes, it did sound like that, didn't it?

What he actually said was,
''The whole building rocked.''

- Rocked?
- We'll have you out of there in no time.

(Banging) Hello? Hello?

- l've brought you some fresh tea, sir.
- That's Jeeves.

- Yes, madam?
- Who is in that room?

The painter.
The room is being redecorated.

l lock him in until he's finished.
He's a fine craftsman, but unreliable.

Get back to work. You can have a drink
when you've finished and not before.

Some tea, Miss Rockmetteller?


No. l was going out for a walk. Yes.

Very good, madam.

Good afternoon, Miss Rockmetteller.

Rocky's aunt.
She thinks this flat belongs to him.

- Who's Rocky?
- Never mind. The point is...

- That blasted door was locked.
- l'm so sorry, Your Grace.

That was my doing. There were reporters
present from the Daily Chronicle.

l did not have time to warn Your Grace.

The devils are on my trail already.

Because l'm a duke, you know. You don't
get reporters running after you, do you?

Very seldom, Your Grace.

- There you are, then.
- Will that be all, Your Grace?

Yes, that's all. ls that tea?

lndeed it is, Your Grace.

Get Rocky here.
lf his aunt finds out he's in the country...

l have attended to it, sir. l dispatched
a telegram by the lift attendant.

(Clearing throat)

Ah! Well, l think this is a bit thick, Jeeves.

lndeed it is, sir. l have brought a dozen
of your evening shirts, sir.

A dozen? l'm not going to be in this hotel
that long, surely, Jeeves?

l could not say, but Miss Rockmetteller,
Mr Rockmetteller and His Grace

seem to be settling into your apartment.

l have put Mr Rockmetteller
in the small spare room, sir.

How are the Duke and Rocky's aunt
getting on?

- Fortunately, they have not yet met.
- You can't keep them apart for ever.

Mr Bickersteth and Mr Rockmetteller
are aware of the situation,

and are endeavouring
to keep the two parties at a distance.

Besides, sir, they both keep
very different hours.

(lsabel) Oh, Rockmetteller, it's all just
as you painted it to me in your letters!

lsn't it exciting?

lt's awful, Bertie,
not having an allowance any more.

lf only this could have happened later.

My next allowance was due today,

and l could have worked
a business wheeze l read about.

- Oh, what's that?
- You can make a bally fortune

if you can get a few dollars together.

What you do is,
you just start a chicken farm.

lt's obvious, when you think about it.

You buy a hen,
and it lays an egg every day of the week.

And then you sell the eggs,
say a dozen for 25 cents.

Everything is just pure profit after that.

Running a chicken costs nothing.
But l can't do it. l haven't got the cash.

You've only got to say the word.

No, l really couldn't sponge off you.
l just couldn't.

- lt's not exactly...
- Honestly, old chap, l can't.

ln that case, there's only one thing for it.

- What?
- Jeeves.

l do not wish
to appear to be taking a liberty, sir.

But we have overlooked His Grace's
potentialities as a source of revenue.

- Ha-ha!
- l do not allude to the possibility, sir,

of inducing His Grace
to part with any money.

l am taking the liberty
of regarding His Grace

in the light of an, at present,
if l may say so, useless property,

which is capable of being developed.

- You couldn't make it clearer?
- ln a nutshell, sir, what l mean is this.

His Grace is, in a sense,
a prominent personage.

Now, the inhabitants of this country

are peculiarly addicted to shaking hands
with prominent personages.

Either yourself or Mr Bickersteth

might know of persons
who would be willing to pay a small fee

for an introduction to His Grace,
handshake included in price of ticket.

Nobody is going to part with solid cash
to shake hands with my father.

l had an aunt, sir,
who paid five shillings to a young man

for bringing a moving picture actor
to her house for tea on Sunday.

lt gave her social standing
among the neighbours.

An alternative strategy might be
to institute a search for a large group.

A convention, for instance,
might be in town.

A convention, eh?
What do you think of it, Bertie?

l'm for it. Where is your father? ls he in?

- No, he went out.
- What we've got to do...


- What are you doing here?
- Me? Oh, well...

Have you got nothing better to do

than hang around
Rockmetteller's apartment?


Rocky? Wake up.

- Come on, wake up.
- l am not awake.

Bicky's father will back any minute.

l'll have breakfast now, Jeeves.

Very good, Miss Rockmetteller.

- Aunt lsabel! Aunt lsabel! Get your hat.
- l beg your pardon.

- We gotta get out of here.
- l haven't had my breakfast yet.

- You haven't been eating at home?
- Where else would l eat breakfast?

Nobody eats breakfast at home.

There's a diner over on West 98th Street
they all go to.

Noel Coward, Mary Pickford,
Georgie Gershwin,

all digging into the old ham and E.

At a diner on West 98th Street?


l'm surprised you kept your aunt
away from Art's Diner, Rocky.

- Oh, l haven't got my hat.
- Hat? Nobody wears a hat at Art's.

Jimmy Durante said he'd be there.
Don't want to miss old Jimmy.

No, right.

Come along, Rockmetteller!
This sounds exciting!

l'd be disappointed
if we hadn't been...

l've been saving it up as a treat.

Hello, Dad. Come on in.

- Who was that man?
- What man?

- The man that went into your apartment.
- Oh, him.

He's come to fix the central heating.

But that Englishman called him Dad.

Did he? Oh, of course he did,
because that's his name.

Mr Dadd. Aloysius Dadd.

Great plumber.

Ah! Who was that woman who just left?

Oh, she'd come to measure up
for new curtains.

New curt...?
ls there no end to your profligacy, boy?

(# Tango)



Come in.

A bit more of this and l shall sneak
quietly off to the river and end it all.

lt can't be as bad as all that.

lt's simply infernal.

You mean to say you do this sort of
thing every night, Bertie, and enjoy it?

Apart from anything else, l get brain
fever inventing lies to tell Aunt lsabel,

and l got to swim around in these
bloody evening clothes of yours!

- Mine? You'll ruin them.
- lt's your fault. You got me into this.

- How is it my fault?
- Jeeves, then. lt's all the same.

l tell you, Bertie, l can't stand it.
lt's got to stop.

Can't Jeeves think of anything?

He just hangs around,
saying, ''Most disturbing, sir.''

Fat lot of good that does.

At least you're saving money.

What do you mean, saving money?
She's stopped the allowance.

She wrote to the lawyers, saying now
she's in New York, there's no necessity,

as we shall always be together.

Come back. Come back to the apartment
with me, won't you, Bertie, please?

See if you and Jeeves
can't think up something.


(Men) Boost for Birdsburg!

(Elevator bell)

Thank you. Thank you very much.
Do go in. Thank you very much.

lf you'd all just join the queue up here.

Thank you. That's marvellous.

What on earth is going on?

Jeeves has come up trumps again.

He found a convention from out of town,
at the theatre the other night.

They are prepared to pay three dollars
each to shake hands with my father.

- What does your father think of it?
- He thinks they're friends of mine.

Now, l'd better get back in there, OK?

l don't understand my nephew, Jeeves.
The boy has no stamina.

- Are you sure this is the Hippodrome?
- Quite sure, Miss Rockmetteller.

Your seat is through there, on the left.

Sir, it's a pleasure to shake the hand
of a real, live, English duke!

(All) Boost for Birdsburg!

We've got things moving in Birdsburg.

Our new water system
is the envy of the Midwest.

Our sewage system is the best
in the West! Boost for Birdsburg!

Where's my aunt?

You were meant to go with her
for the matinee at the Hippodrome.

Oh, my God! l completely forgot about it.

But you can be saved,
brothers and sisters.

Yes, you sinners can be saved.

And Jimmy Mundy is the man to do it.

Ah, Mr Jeeves!

(All) Boost for Birdsburg!

- Mr Jeeves!
- Hello, Mr Jeeves.

Boost for Birdsburg, gentlemen.

- Boost for Birdsburg!
- Pardon me, sir.

- Are there any more, Jeeves?
- l counted 78 outside.

- Excellent!
- You've done jolly well.

Thank you, sir.

This means you!

- Hallelujah!
- (Cheering)

Thank you, so charming. Hello.

- l didn't know you had so many friends.
- Some are waiting outside.

- Really?
- Yes.

Thank you, thank you.

Come straight on through.
The Duke's dying to meet you.

How do you do?

- What message have you for Birdsburg?
- l've never been to Birdsburg.

What on earth is the meaning of this?

lt's the most rapidly growing city
in the country. Boost for Birdsburg!


That man is an imposter.

- (All) What?
- How dare you?

That man is no duke. You have been
duped. He's a central heating engineer.

How dare you, madam?
Get back to your curtains.


Wait a doggone minute.
l've been thinking about that.

- How do we know you're a real duke?
- He isn't!

l don't see what business it is of yours,
but l am the Duke of Chiswick.

This will prove it to you.

''Edgar Gascoigne Bickersteth.

- ''Eighth Duke of Chis-wick.''
- (Birdsburgers) Eighth?

- That's no good.
- Hey, fellas, we've been had.

- What on earth do you mean?
- We didn't pay to meet the eighth duke.

We want the first duke or nothing.

Paid money?

Francis! Francis!

Come here!

Where the devil are you?


Francis! Come here, Francis!

Fellas, it's a fraud.
He's only the eighth duke.

Somebody call the cops.

l had to, Papa. You cut off my allowance.

Rubbish! Just you wait
till l get my hands on you.

l'm gonna write to my senator.

l needed money
to start the chicken farm.

You buy a hen, it lays an egg every day
and you sell the eggs. A brilliant wheeze.

They cost nothing to keep,
you sell the eggs and...

What are you talking about? You led me
to suppose you were a businessman.

lt's not exactly Bicky's fault, sir,
although he did exaggerate.

- The lad is absolutely stuck without...
- After this deceit, not another penny!

All he wants is a bit of capital.
Don't you think it would be a wheeze...

- Nonsense! Never!
- Not for me to interfere...

A small advance, for example...
A few... Just...

Thank you.
l will see you all later, gentlemen.

Down, please.

- Oh, my God!
- There they are!

Got you! How dare you sully
the name of the Bickersteths?


There they are.
The fat one's the phoney duke.

Oh, God!

This way, gentlemen. l should advise
a degree of alacrity, Your Grace.

What are they doing?

They seem intent on arresting
Your Grace for fraud.

Fraud? But l...
Francis, look what you've done!

Well, at least they'll feed me in jail.

Pardon me for saying so, sir, but there is
a way out of your financial predicament.


lf the Duke is unwilling
to finance your farm, sir,

you may be forced to sell his story
to the newspapers.

- The Chronicle would jump at it.
- They would, too.

- l absolutely forbid it, Francis!
- Five hundred a year.

- You buy a chicken and it lays an egg...
- Yes, yes, all right!

OK, nobody leaves.
The place is surrounded.

What are you doing
in my nephew's apartment?

Stay out of this.

- Sir, Your Grace. This is our floor.
- Thank you, Jeeves.

Open up in the name of the law!

(Birdsburgers) Mr Jeeves!

- Hey, you!
- Are you addressing me, officer?

- l ain't addressing nobody. l'm talking.
- My name is Jeeves.

Are there any other ways
out of this apartment?

- There they are!
- Get 'em!

No, please.
Look, you can have your money back.

The money's not the point.
A crime has been committed.

A crime has not been committed, blast it!

lf l might be permitted to speak, officer?

No, you might not.
l don't like your attitude, Jeeves.

l was merely wondering, officer,

whether these gentlemen
really intended to prefer charges.

- Sure, they do.
- (All) Sure, we do.

Will it redound to the good name
of Birdsburg, gentlemen,

if it is printed
in every newspaper in the land

that you, the town's representatives,

were mousetrapped by a pair
of suede-shoe feather merchants?

(All) Ooh!

Precisely, gentlemen.

- l guess no real harm has been done.
- Yeah, sure.

We'll drop the charges.

Let's go, fellas!

Goddamn amateurs! Come on, men.

l need a drink.

No! l cannot stand idly by and see
a young man going to perdition.

l shudder at the wrong l did you
by urging you into this wicked city.

- But you said...
- l have had the privilege

of hearing Mr Mundy
speak on the subject of New York.

- Jimmy Mundy?
- Yes, Jimmy Mundy.

l'm surprised at a man of your stamp
having heard of him.

There's no music,
no drunken dancing men,

no shameless, flaunting women
at his meetings.

- For you, they would have no attraction.
- Well, l...

And to think it was by
the merest accident that l heard him!

l asked Jeeves to take me
to the Hippodrome, to the matinee.

The man has very little intelligence,
and l'm thankful for it.

lnstead of the Hippodrome, he took me
to where Mr Mundy's holding meetings.

Mr Mundy showed me the pomp and
vanity of sitting in gilded haunts of vice,

eating lobster and dancing the tango,

when decent people should be in bed.

When he stood on one leg, pointed
at where l was sitting, and shouted,

''This means you!''

l could have sunk through the floor.

Now, Rockmetteller,
you will go to the country, won't you?

You want me to live in the country?

Yes, Rockmetteller, yes.

Back to that little cottage?

For my sake, Rockmetteller.


Oh... all right.

(Clearing throat)
Perhaps l can have some tea?

Does this apartment belong
to my nephew or your son?

Well, neither, actually. lt belongs to me.

(Both) You?

The young people of today
are far more trouble than they're worth.

You're absolutely right, Mr...

What do l call you?

You may call me Edgar, madam.




What a masterstroke, Jeeves, sending
Rocky's aunt to see Jimmy Mundy.

Thank you, sir. l hoped it might
accomplish the necessary alienation.

What about the way she's cavorting
round the old duke like a young filly?

- lndeed, sir.
- Jeeves, words fail me.

Very good, sir.

- Ah. Would you care to...?
- Thank you, sir.

- Why don't you take the right hand?
- Very good, sir.

One, two, three, four...

(# Rolling blues)