Jeeves and Wooster s01e02 Episode Script

Ah, Jeeves, how is he this morning? Distressingly wilful, sir.
Look on the bright side, think of the goose we've done ourselves by nannying the beast until Aunt Agatha has finished her inspection of the continent.
True, sir.
Erm Pardon me for asking, sir, are you going to appear in public in those garments? Well, certainly, Jeeves.
What, a bit vivid, do you think? Not necessarily, sir.
I am told that Mr Freddie "He's a Riot" Flowerdew often appears on the music hall stage in comparable attire, but No, no, no! No buts, Jeeves, I happen to think very highly of them.
Now then Yes, we must be making tracks, I tee off at 11.
30.
- Good luck today, sir.
- Oh, thank you, Jarvis.
Jeeves, I think today you will be proud to see the young master sail through to the quarterfinals at least of the Drones Club annual knockout golf tournament.
Ah, this is indeed good news, sir.
You see, Jeeves, my match is against Barmy Fotheringay Phipps, and being drawn against him is the golfing equivalent of a walkover.
I see, sir.
I hope Bobbie Wickham will be amazed at my exploits on the golf course today.
May I enquire, sir, why you are so desirous of impressing Miss Wickham? Didn't I tell you, Jeeves? I'm in love.
With Miss Wickham, sir? There's no need to say it like that.
You're wrong about Miss Wickham, you know.
If you say so, sir.
Right, Jeeves, this is the time for plain speaking.
Just what exactly is your kick against Miss Wickham? I insist.
Well, sir, although Miss Wickham is a very charming young lady, Exactly, Jeeves! You speak an imperial court.
What eyes! - Yes, sir.
- What hair! - Very true, sir.
- What luckiness! - Precisely, sir.
- What do you mean, "precisely, sir"? It is that very quality of espieglérie which debars Miss Wickham from being a matrimonial prospect for a gentleman of your description.
What do you mean, "a gentleman of my description"? Miss Wickham, in my opinion, sir, is too frivolous.
Whenever I see Miss Wickham, I know that trouble cannot be far behind.
To qualify as Miss Wickham's husband, a gentleman should be possessed of a commanding personality and considerable strength of character.
Exactly, Jeeves! Condemned out of your own mouth.
- What ho, Bobbie, Barmy! - Hello, Bertie! Didn't know you'd arrived.
Well, I hadn't.
Until now, of course.
I didn't arrive somewhere once.
Most extraordinary thing.
- Are you in mourning for someone - Yes, rather natty, eh? Jeeves doesn't like them, but he's notoriously hidebound over leg-wear.
I was on my way there and something happened.
I can't remember what.
- Will you look after the hound? - Of course.
- Looking forward to the match, Barmy? - I'll say! I've got this wonderful new gadget from Lillywhite's.
You wind it up, clip it on your club, and it buzzes to tell you when to start your downswing! Oh.
Good shot, Barmy! Thank you, Bertie.
- Have you been taking lessons? - No, it's this whatsit.
- Works marvellously, don't you think? - It's very good, yes! Mclntosh, quiet! Mclntosh! Sorry, Bertie! Sorry, sorry! - Poor Bertie! - Oh, Bertie! Right, now, what I'm going to do here, Jeeves, is just keep it low, drill it straight out through the trees, quail high.
- Indeed, sir? - Then dogleg it round the wood, let it drift onto the green with backspin to bring it level with the pin.
It might even plop straight into the hole.
That would seem to be ideal, sir.
- It's finesse, you know.
- Aptly put, sir.
- Splendid shot, Barmy! - Good shot, Barmy! Oh, Bertie, I'm sorry.
Come here, Mclntosh! Perhaps we are not keeping our eye on the ball with sufficient assiduity, sir.
It's the blasted dog! Every time I look at the ball, it starts yapping! Good dog, Mclntosh, good dog.
- Good shot, Bertie! - Thank you, Barmy Aargh! Aargh! Oi! Oh, Mclntosh, it's not a bone! Come here, come here! Mclntosh! Good boy! If you ask me, Jeeves, that animal is in the pay of the Fotheringay Phippses.
There you are, Jeeves, the old touch coming back.
Shall I put you down for a 12 there, sir? No! No! Nothing can make me disclose my secret.
You have to tell us, Mother.
Who is Oriana's father? - Never! - Yes, yes! Who is my father? Do you think I can go on living with this hanging over me? It's a living hell - I tell you! - Don't ee say nothing, Mrs Warminster.
What the devil has it got to do with you Old Elias? What ho, Lady Wickham! Hello, Sir Cuthbert, Tuppy.
How are you? I hear you made a dog's breakfast of your golf this morning.
- Oh, he was an absolute scream! - Thank you, Bobbie, I shall try to be the game and popular loser.
Don't be such a stick, Bertie.
It was fun! Golf isn't intended to be fun, Roberta.
We're just reading my new play, Mr Wooster.
Would you care to join us? - No, I've got to walk the hound.
- I'll come with you.
- Oh, who's going to read Oriana? - Won't be long.
- Could you read Oriana, Mr Glossop? - Oh, right, yes.
Erm What the devil has it got to do with you, Old Elias? He knows! He must know! How does he know? But to lose like that to Barmy, of all people! They nearly died laughing in the refreshment tent.
- It's no laughing matter, young Bobbie.
- No, I know, Bertie, but I've got an idea.
I warn you, what I'm about to say is going to make you look pretty silly.
- Indeed, sir.
- This morning, if I remember rightly, you stated that Miss Wickham was frivolous, volatile, and generally lacking in seriousness, am I correct? - Quite correct, sir.
- Well, I went for a walk with Miss Wickham and she has suggested to me the brainiest scheme for getting back at young Barmy that anyone could possibly imagine.
- Getting back at him, sir? - Mm.
Ahem.
One wonders if this is quite the sporting spirit.
- Eh? - One merely wonders, sir.
No, no, no! This is the Wooster spirit, Jeeves.
Unsporting would be me reporting that blasted buzzer thing to the committee.
- No, this is strictly man-to-man.
- Very good, sir.
Anyway, it appears that at the school where Miss Wickham was educated, it was from time to time necessary for the right-thinking element to slip one over certain of the baser sort.
Do you know what they did, Jeeves? - No, sir, I don't.
- They used to take a long stick - and follow me closely here, Jeeves - they used to attach a darning needle to it.
Then, at dead of night, they would sneak privily into the party of the second part's cubicle, and they would poke the needle through the bedclothes and puncture the water bottle! Girls are so much subtler in these matters than boys, Jeeves.
- I'm sure you must be right, sir.
- This is the girl that you call frivolous! Yes, sir, I do believe Anyone who can think up a wheeze like that is my idea of a helpmeet.
Now, have you got any idea where young Barmy sleeps? - I believe he's in the Moat Room, sir.
- Hm.
# Because you come to me with naught save love # And hold my hand and lift mine eyes above # A wider world of hope and joy I see # Because you come to me # Because you speak to me in accents sweet # I find the roses waking round my feet # - Jeeves? - Yes, sir.
Could you get me a darning needle? And a bit of stick and some string? # Because # You speak to # Meeeeeeeeee! # Because God made thee mine # I'll cherish thee # Through light and darkness, through all time # # Because God made thee mine # Most moving, most moving! See, she weeps.
- Oh, you were wonderful, wonderful! - It reminds us of old country.
My wife does not like to be reminded of old country.
Thank you so much, Miss Bellinger.
Sir Cuthbert and I are so starved of true culture, buried down here in the country.
- Oh, too kind, Lady Wickham! - Damn fine! Tune you can hum, - tap your foot to, or whistle! - It's absolutely Well, it's absolutely! Miss Bellinger, when you were last at La Scala, what was it you sang? - What do you think, Bertie? - Well Absolutely! What a wonderful noise she makes.
It's amazing.
I've only known her a couple of weeks - Mm.
- I think I'm in love, Bertie.
Oh, steady the buffs! Whenever my wife thinks of Birmania, she weeps.
Every time! Hello Professor Cluj, wasn't she wonderful? It was good times in old country.
At university, I was professor of Slavonic languages.
But we leave all behind.
Our house in Stanislav Avenue, our estate in the countryside.
Several children.
- Mm, dashed awkward! - No, no, no, no! Is better here.
Birmania is dump! Oh! You were wonderful, darling! I mean, as far as I can see, the trick in playing the piano is to get one hand to do one thing, while the other one's doing something else.
- Well, yes - I can do that with a knife and fork, - so I don't see why - Yes, but Mr Fotheringay Phipps - Good night, Lady Wickham.
- Good night, Mr Wooster.
- I do hope you'll be quite comfortable.
- Oh, I'm sure I will.
Good night, Barmy.
Sleep well.
- Good night, all! - Good night, Bertie.
- Good night.
- Good night.
- Who this? - What is this come to us? - You? - Ha, right, ha.
- Are you mad or what, man? - No, no, I thought you were Barmy.
- You thought I am barmy? - Vladimir, the bed is wet! Look! - Well, it was a joke, you see.
- Where is your room, lu-na-tic? - Mine? Well, it's just above yours, the Clock Room.
Thank you, we will find it.
Put on your robe, Aneta.
Turn your back, lunatic! We will spend the finish of the night in your bed.
You may sleep here.
Come.
No, but Jeeves, you have blundered grieviously.
- Sir? - Barmy was not sleeping in this room.
This was Professor Cluj and his wife.
Yes, sir.
Mr Fotheringay Phipps kindly exchanged rooms with them after Madama Cluj complained that their room reminded her of her homeland, sir.
Oh.
And when did you discover this? - Er, late last night, sir.
- Late last night? And you cold-bloodedly stood by and let me walk to my certain doom? Yes, sir.
I thought that, on reflection, you might prefer that your relationship with the Wickham family remained a distant one.
A distant one? I'm about to propose to the daughter of the house this very a.
m.
Very good, sir.
Shall I lay out our hound's tooth check suit, sir, for the journey? - What journey? - To London, sir.
Lady Wickham has asked Mr Fotheringay Phipps to leave.
Asked him to leave? During the night, sir, when Professor and Madam Cluj were in your bed, he entered their room and pierced their hot-water bottle with a sharp implement.
Extraordinary coincidence, Jeeves.
Barmy getting the same idea as I did.
The concatenation of circumstance you describe was not entirely unforeseen.
It appears that he received the suggestion from the young lady.
- From Miss Wickham? - Yes, sir.
You mean, at the same time that she was putting me up to the scheme of puncturing Barmy's hot-water bottle, she was tipping Barmy off to puncturing mine? Ahem.
She's a young lady with a keen sense of humour, sir.
- You're cold, sir? - Just shivering, Jeeves.
The occurrence, if I may take the liberty of saying so, sir, may lend colour to the view which I put forward yesterday, that Miss Wickham, though in many respects a charming young lady, - Say no more, Jeeves.
Love is dead.
- Very good, sir.
# Now there's a good ship HMS Cock Robin # On her home trip Up and down she's bobbin' # Though the crew's pretty tough the sea is so rough # They're all fed up and say that they've had more than enough # She's got a father he's an able seaman # And they call him Red-Haired Tom # I wire to say I'll meet you and with your friends I'll treat you # So who do you think I've had a message from? - Do you like that song, Jeeves? - Well, sir It's called 47 Ginger-Headed Sailors.
It's all the rage at the Drones at the moment.
I can't say that I'm surprised to hear that, sir.
# 47 ginger-headed sailors coming home across the briny sea # When the anchor's weighed and the journey's made # Yes, they'll start the party with a # # hey ho me hearty! # 47 ginger-headed sailors # You can bet you're going to hear them when they hail us # A letter for Mr Wooster # An old maid down in Devon said "My idea of heaven # Is 47 ginger-headed sailors" # Really speaks to me, that song, Jeeves.
I'm sorry to hear that, sir.
- Like to hear the rest of it? - I won't put you to any trouble, sir.
This note was delivered for you by hand a few moments ago.
Oh.
Well at least Mclntosh likes my singing.
I'm really going to miss the little fella when Aunt Agatha gets back today.
- Well, of all the bally nerve, Jeeves.
- Sir? After everything she did to us last weekend! - She wants us to give her lunch today.
- Sir? Miss Wickham, Jeeves, and two of her friends.
She even specifies the menu.
- Bleeurgh! - Indeed, sir? Roly-poly pudding with jam, oysters, ice cream and plenty of chocolate.
Must be on some kind of diet.
I shall have to go and remonstrate with her.
Very good.
I shall go and purchase the comestibles.
By no means, Jeeves! By no means! I can be chilled steel, you know.
Now, after everything you've done to me, I don't see how you have the - the gall - Don't be such a stick, Bertie.
- It's all right about lunch, is it? - No, it dashed well is not all right.
I can't give Mr Blumenfield lunch here.
Look, the house is being decorated.
- Well, restaurants are open.
- I never thought you were small-minded.
- Careful of those mouldings, George.
- Small-minded? Mr Blumenfield's a fearfully important Broadway producer.
I've got to read Mummy's play to him after lunch.
I can't do it in a restaurant.
Yes, but why does he want jam roly-poly and oysters? He doesn't, that's for his son.
Mr Blumenfield always banks on his verdict.
He says an eight-year-old's intelligence is equal to a Broadway audience's.
Mm.
Well, I'm not going sit around while you read your mother's dratted play.
- You can have lunch at the club, then.
- No, no, no! Oh, Bertie, you're such a dear.
- Help me.
Brandon! He's armed.
- Don't 'ee come nigh me, young sir.
You cur! Oh! If you don't take your hands off that young woman! - Ahem.
What then, what'll 'ee do - Daddy! to Old Elias.
Happen he'll take thy riding crop to 'im like the old maister - Daddy! thy faither be used to do? Daddy! The dog's so cute, isn't he? - Don't you like the play, son? - Sure, I like it fine, but the dog's cuter.
Huh huh.
Yeah, sure! Sure he is! Ha ha! Guess what? I'm going to the opera tonight.
- The opera, Tuppy? - Cora's singing in The Barber of Figaro.
- Is that the one about the pyramids? - Sounds like it, by the name.
I've never been to the opera before.
Would you like to come with me, Bertie? - Er, well - Excuse me, sir, there's a Miss Wickham for you on the phone.
Oh, righto.
Yes? Bobbie! Yes, good.
You've done what? But why? She'll kill me! - Jeeves! - I couldn't stop her, sir.
Pah! Do you mean to say that you stood by and allowed Bobbie Wickham to make a present of my aunt's dog to some perfect stranger? You know how headstrong a young lady she can be, sir.
- What is she, mad? - The child took a fancy to the animal, sir.
In order to ingratiate herself to the boy's father, she presented it to him.
I'm lost, Jeeves! Sunk! Aunt Agatha is due here at six o'clock! - May I propose a course of action, sir? - Anything, Jeeves, anything! Mr Blumenfield and the young gentleman are attending a motion picture performance this afternoon.
They will not return to their hotel until five o'clock, when Miss Wickham will call to sign the contract for Lady Wickham's play.
If they are delayed, she is to go straight up to their suite and attend them.
- Well, I don't see how that helps us.
- If you will bear with me, sir, Our first requirement is for aniseed.
- Aniseed? - To sprinkle on the trousers, sir.
Aniseed is extensively used in the dognapping industry.
Oh, I didn't know that.
Oh, yes indeed, sir.
Oi! Come out of there! Oi! Now, sir, you know how much the dog Mclntosh enjoys your singing It's all right, it's the trousers.
# 47 ginger-headed sailors # You can bet you're going to hear them when they hail us # When they step ashore there'll be a mighty roar # From 47 ginger-headed sailors # 47 ginger-headed sailors # Afternoon! # Bet you're going to hear them when they hail us # And when they step ashore # Like a breeze, Jeeves, like a breeze! Now, put the pooch somewhere where my trousers will cease to cast their spell.
Tell me, Jeeves, were you always like this, or did it come on suddenly? - Sir? - The brain.
The grey matter.
- Were you a brilliant child? - My mother thought me intelligent, sir.
Well, you can't go by that.
My mother thought me intelligent.
- Who Who is that, Jeeves? - Probably Mr Blumenfield senior, sir.
What? He telephoned a short while ago to say he was about to pay you a call, sir.
Well, Ooh! Great Scott, Jeeves! Get Get rid of him! - Jeeves! - I'll see what I can do, sir.
Right! - This guy Wooster, where is he? - I could not say, sir.
- He sneaked my son's dog.
- Most disturbing, sir.
You don't know where he is? My boy has his heart set on that little dog.
If he doesn't get it back, he's gonna turn right against that play.
- What's that smell in here? - Erm, aniseed, I suspect, sir.
Mr Wooster likes to sprinkle it on his trousers.
- What the hell does he do that for? - I could not say, sir.
Mr Wooster is an eccentric.
- You mean he's a loony? - Yes, sir.
- Not, er, a dangerous? - Yes, sir.
With regard to the aniseed, sir, I fancy I have now located it.
Unless I am very much mistaken, it's proceeding from behind this sofa.
- No doubt Mr Wooster is sleeping there.
- Doing what? Sleeping, sir.
Oh, my God! Would you like me to wake him up, sir? No, no! Just get me out of here alive, that's all I ask.
Very good, sir.
I think I can do better than that.
- Hey! Here's a five pound note.
- Thank you very much indeed, sir.
- Oh, good boy! - This way, sir.
- Thank you.
- Good afternoon, Mr Blumenfield.
- Jeeves! - Sir? - I can't believe it! - No, sir.
Mr Wooster, sir! - Astra Hotel.
Know where that is? - Yes, sir.
Quick, he's a lunatic! Stop! Stop! No! Stop! Aunt Agatha! Oh, er, ha ha, Aunt Agatha, you can't go up to the flat.
- Why? I trust Mclntosh is well.
- No! - He isn't? - Well, yes, Mclntosh is fine.
- Are you coming in the lift? - Er, no.
No, but you can't go up there! No! No! No! Nobody No! Look, Jeeves is in quarantine! Your mouth is hanging open again, Bertie.
- I - Ah, there he is! Come to mother, Mclntosh! How's my baby, then? Hmm? Mouth closed, Bertie! But, Jeeves, I Master Blumenfield junior will not detect that I have purchased another dog.
Another dog? Except to the eye of love, sir, one Aberdeen Terrier is much like another.
# Non so piu cosa son, cosa faccio # Or di fuoco, ora sono di ghiaccio # Ogni donna cangiar di colore # Ogni donna mi fa palpitar # Ogni donna mi fa palpitar # Ogni donna mi fa palpitar # Solo ai nomi d'amor # - Isn't she wonderful? - Stunning! Stunning! Reminds me of that chap you used to play rugby with.
Um - Oh, Buffy Trumpton.
- That's it, that's it.
# Un desio Un desio ch'io non posso spiegar! # Oh, not really, just something about the trousers.
# E, se non ho chi m'oda # Parlo d'amor con me! # Con me! # Parlo d'amor con me! # Bravo! Well, I told you I had a special reason.
Isn't she wonderful at the loud bits? - Oh, yes! - Absolutely! The thing is, Bertie, what with her great soul and everything, she has this rather serious outlook on life.
I want you to back me up, let her know I've got a serious mind and so forth.
I didn't know you had any sort of mind.
That is just the sort of remark we don't want, thank you very much! Well, I suppose we'd better get backstage and, er, meet her, - I think there's some more opera first.
- Surely not? - Oh, yes.
That was only Act I.
- Well, how many are there? - Four.
- Good God! Well! Well, of course.
Super.
What a treat! Come on, Bertie, not much further.
- Oh, well done, splendid! - Yes, well done! - Who is it? - It's Hildebrand, darling! One moment, Hildebrand.
- Hildebrand? - Just shut up! - Gentlemen.
- Hello, Cora! - You remember Bertie Wooster.
- What ho, Cora! Good evening, Mr Wooster.
- Sorry.
- Sorry.
- Topping show! - Why, thank you.
I did not know you were a devotee of the opera, Mr Wooster.
Er, well, I saw Naughty Naughty at the Hippodrome last year.
Did you really? Hildebrand, I should be grateful if you do not smoke a cigar in my dressing room.
- Oh.
Ahem.
- Thank you.
- Oh, he's so serious-minded, old Tuppy! - I beg your pardon? - Tuppy, serious-minded.
Oh, Lord, yes.
- Indeed? Mm, famous for it.
I often say to him when we're at the races or shifting a few at the Troghouse, "Tuppy, you are serious-minded, aren't you?" - Absolutely! - Mm.
- Well, that went pretty well, I thought.
- But how are you going to keep it up? Ah, I have my long-term strategy.
Do you remember Beefy Bingham? Yes, I ran into him the other day.
He's a parson now.
Yes, quite.
Down in the East End.
Thing is, Cora's frightfully keen on good works.
So I've been helping Beefy out at the Lads' Club he runs for the local toughs.
You know - cocoa and cribbage in the reading room and what-not.
- I wondered where you'd been.
- Cora's promised to sing at Beefy's next entertainment.
And, mark my devilish ingenuity, Bertie, I'm going to sing too.
- How will that get you anywhere? - Because I intend to sing a song to prove once and for all that there are great deeps in my nature.
Well, I'm not going to sing a mouldy old comic song.
I'm going to sing about angels being lonely and, well, all that kind of stuff.
Angels being lonely? - You're not going to sing Sonny Boy? - I jolly well am! # The angels grew lonely they took you because they were lonely # Now I'm lonely too, Sonny Boy # I can't be responsible for Tuppy's affairs of the heart.
You may be my favourite nephew - But Aunt Dahlia! - But he is your friend, Bertie.
Up until three weeks ago, that blasted Glossop was all over my daughter.
Haunting the house, lapping up daily lunches, dancing with her half the night, and so on.
Well, naturally, the poor kid imagined that it was only a question of time before he suggested they should feed for life out of the same bucket.
And now he's gone and dropped Angela like a hot brick.
And I hear he's infatuated with some singer.
- Mm.
Cora Bellinger.
- How do you know? - I've met her.
- What's she like? Bit on the lines of the Albert Hall.
I want this Bellinger business broken up, Bertie.
A little thing like this should be child's play to Jeeves - Ahem.
from all I hear.
From what Mr Wooster has told me of the lady, Should Miss Bellinger witness Mr Glossop appearing to disadvantage in public, she would cease to entertain affection for him.
In the event, for example, of his failing to please the audience on Tuesday with his singing.
By Jove! You mean, if he gets the bird, all will be off.
I should be greatly surprised if this were not so, sir.
Yes, but we cannot leave this thing to chance, Jeeves.
We need not leave it entirely to luck, sir.
If Mr Glossop were to sing Sonny Boy after you too had sung Sonny Boy, I fancy the audience would have lost their taste for that particular song - and would respond warmly, I'm sure.
- Jeeves, you are a marvel! Thank you, madam.
Jeeves, you are an ass! Me, sing Sonny Boy at one of Beefy Bingham's entertainments? Mr Wooster has a pleasant light baritone.
He often uses it about the flat.
Bertie.
You'll sing it.
And like it.
# England, England, England! # Like heroes, played their part! - # England, England, England! - Do us a favour and drop dead! Not a large gathering, sir, but enthusiastically partisan.
Oh, you here, Jeeves? Indeed, sir.
I've been present since the commencement.
- Any casualties yet? - Oh, no, sir.
- So I'll be the first, will I? - By no means, sir.
I anticipate that you will be well received.
Do you suppose when Tuppy Glossop hears me sing that dashed song, he'll just stroll on a moment later and sing it too? - Mr Glossop will not hear you, sir.
- Eh? Ahem.
At my advice he has stepped across the road to the Dog And Duck and intends to remain there until it is time for him to appear on stage.
- Get off! - Oh.
# is a name that the world repeats # Thank you, Mr Simpson, thank you.
And now, an old friend of mine who's here to entertain us, Mr Bertie Wooster! # Climb upon my knee, Sonny Boy # You are only three, Sonny Boy # You've no way of knowing # I I've no way of showing # What you mean to me, Sonny Boy # - My dog sings better than that.
- # When there are grey skies # I don't mind those grey skies # # You make them blue, Sonny Boy # Oh, go away! # Friends may forsake me # Let them all forsake me # You'll pull me through, Sonny Boy # You're sent from heaven and I know your worth # You've made a heaven # # You are a da-da-da-da-doo # La-la-la-la hm-hm-hm-hm # - Time, Mr Glossop, sir.
- Thank you, Jeeves.
# The angels grew lonely # Took you because they were lonely # Now I'm lonely too, Sonny Boy # And now, a real treat, someone who's become very familiar to us at the cribbage board over the past weeks, but now he's going to sing for us, Mr Hildebrand Glossop! Mr Glossop has also helped us with the Ping-Pong.
Most professionally performed, if I may say so, sir.
You may, Jeeves, you may.
But the bird was hovering in the air.
I could feel the beating of its wings.
I fancy the audience may have lost their taste for this particular melody, sir.
- Eh? - I should have mentioned it earlier, but the song was performed twice before you arrived.
Do you mean to tell me that you deliberately I think Mr Glossop is about to begin, sir.
# Climb upon my knee, Sonny Boy # You are only three, Sonny Boy # There's no way of knowing You've no way of showing # What you mean to me, Sonny Boy.
# When there are grey skies, I don't mind grey skies # You make them blue, Sonny Boy! # Get them off! For God's sake! This isn't fair! This just isn't fair! - The surgeon's knife, eh, Jeeves? - Precisely, sir.
Yes, I think we may definitely consider the Glossop-Bellinger romance off.
Now the next item on the programme was to have been songs by Miss Cora Bellinger, the well-known operatic soprano.
Now, I've just received a telephone message from Miss Bellinger, saying that her car has broken down.
Now, she is, however, on her way in a cab and will arrive shortly.
In the meantime, perhaps our old friend Mr Enoch Simpson - Jeeves, she wasn't even here! - Ahem.
So it would seem, sir.
So she never saw Tuppy's Waterloo.
This whole agony has been for nothing.
- Most unfortunate, sir.
- Well, I'm going home, Jeeves.
Never, never, never involve me in one of your schemes again.
Very good, sir.
With your permission, sir, I would like to witness the remainder of the entertainment.
Well, rather you than me, Jeeves.
Personally my heart has turned to stone.
- May I, sir? - Yes.
# He was proud and his face had stance # - Mr Jeeves.
- Good evening, madam.
This way.
Miss Bellinger, I'm so glad you could make it.
Yes, yes, thank you Mr Simpson, thank you! And, er, now, and well worth waiting for, I'm sure you'll agree, Miss Cora Bellinger! # Climb upon my knee, Sonny Boy Oh! Oh! You know, Jeeves, I had one of the rummiest phone calls in a lifetime of rummy phone calls last night.
- Indeed, sir? - From my Aunt Dahlia.
She said Tuppy was there with Angela, and it's over between him and Miss Bellinger.
I confess that I had anticipated some such eventuality, sir.
Eh? The thought came to me when Miss Bellinger struck Mr Glossop in the eye.
What on earth did she do that for? I fancy she was upset, sir, at the vigour with which the audience expressed their disapproval of her choice of song.
Now, Jeeves, you're not going to tell me that Miss Bellinger sang Sonny Boy too? Yes, sir.
Well, what an extraordinary coincidence! Er, not entirely, sir.
I took the liberty of accosting Miss Bellinger on her arrival at the hall and saying that Mr Glossop had requested that she sing Sonny Boy as a particular favour to him, sir.
- I say, Jeeves! - Precisely, sir.
She supposed that she had been the victim of a practical pleasantry.
She took it hard, sir.
- Good heavens, Jeeves! - Shall I run your bath, sir? Thank you, Jeeves, yes.
- Oh, Jeeves - Yes, sir? Those plus sixes, Jeeves.
Get rid of them, will you? Thank you, sir.
It will be a wrench at first, but you'll feel better for it.