Last of the Summer Wine (1973) s01e03 Episode Script

Oh.
He's late again.
I knew it - he's not only unsavoury, he's unpunctual as well.
It's a bit early for Compo.
He's not had the practice of getting off to work like we used to have.
Oh, there you are! Ah, come on in.
I can't stand people who prat about the crack of early morning thingy.
I won't be a minute.
You'd think he'd unglue himself from his tattered blankets on an occasion like this.
Especially since it's his relative who's picking us up.
Who's also late, you'll notice.
Oh, stop looking at your watch.
I'll bet he's another shifty Simmonite.
I'll bet you'd be a misery if you had to hire out rowing boats.
Phwoar! They're all the same, his lot.
Drain on the economy.
If ever you've been near his feet, you'll know when I say "drain", I mean "drain".
He's all right.
There's a sort of luminous quality to the seat of his trousers - and you must admit he does wear a funny hat.
I think there's still a place in this country for people who wear funny hats.
And he's good when it comes to cleaning me bike.
When does he ever clean your bike? He doesn't, but you can always count on him for a bit of rag.
Well, of course you can.
That's his suit! I only hope he'll smarten himself up a bit this morning, that's all! I know it's a stately home, but we're only visiting.
I knew it'd only inflame your feudal tendencies.
Well, they don't want any scoffy peasant loping all over their reduced circumstances.
And I only hope that relative of his has some manners as well.
Being a member of his family should be a notifiable industrial disease.
Put your sandwiches in here.
It'll give an executive air to the day.
What have you brought, by the way? Cheese.
Oh, really? I've brought a little pate, myself.
Cyril, you've a tendency to go very Reader's Digest.
COMPO COUGHS HARSHLY Ah, there's no pleasure like lying abed like it used to be when I was supposed to be at work.
Just look at him! He looks like cardboard in the rain.
Well, at least he's got up.
Yes, right up my nostrils.
Wellies are optional for stately homes - you don't have to wear them.
I've cleaned 'em! I walk through every puddle.
On all fours, by the look of it.
Couldn't you have got dressed up just for once?! Well, you cheeky bat, I AM dressed.
What do you think this is? Some sort of tourniquet, I imagine.
Well, I'll stand stuffy.
I wouldn't recommend it.
Not till you've loosened this a bit.
You know, I think I liked you better BEFORE you were purple.
Yeah, well it's the last time I get dressed up, duke or no duke.
I put this on special! And at no small risk.
Because if this is round your neck, what, we ask ourselves, is holding your trousers up? Hah! Somebody's clothesline.
Mrs Batty's.
Sentimental value.
Yeah, well I thought I'd wear it next to me skin.
Nice(!) He's thieved it.
Well, she refused point-blank to discuss her knicker elastic.
Well, nobody smokin', then? BLAMIRE SIGHS Well, just because we're having a day out, there's no need to get niggly with the nicotine.
And he hasn't even shaved.
They dressed like that for the French Revolution! If the duke's at home, he'll think you're swarming him.
Not visiting him! Well - I hope tha's brought tha own sandwiches.
These'll not go round.
They'll not go round in public, I hope! Here - put 'em in here to keep 'em out of sight.
And don't you dare ask for them when anybody's looking! If all goes well, you can rendezvous secretly and pass them over in the gents.
What have you got in 'ere? Potted meat.
Have you left it in the jar(?) Cyril's got pate.
Well, he should get to t'doctor's instead of spreading it about.
I'll tell you who's not about - your relative.
Where is he, then? What, our Chip? He'll be here when he's ready.
They've got kids to look after, they ain't got all day to ponce about like us.
Wife, kids and us three to pick up? Must have a decent-sized car.
Is it possible that one of his lot should have given up the family tradition of worthlessness? Been accidentally overexposed to a broadcast on behalf of the Conservative Party.
I wonder if HE'LL bring pate.
Aaah! Ah, well.
Come on! Let's go wait for him down at t'caff.
Aye, come on.
What with your feet, and them ferrets Ergh! Stretch me legs.
I feel as though I've been sleeping with them in a reef knot! Suppose we miss him altogether? He'll know where to find us.
I told him if we were late we'd be in Sid's caff.
Compose yourself, Cyril.
I haven't seen you like this since you were approached by that Jehovah's Witness.
I get them now and again.
I know, I've seen you scrattin'.
Jehovah's Witnesses! Oh They don't bother.
It's about all I do get calling at t'house these days.
Them and that lot what keeps coming and taking back me telly.
I've no time to be stood on the front doorstep discussing biblical criticism.
Especially with old hands who are notoriously swift with the Watchtower.
What puzzles me when I think about life, is where does all that fluff come from that gathers in your navel? Don't just stand there like Hudson's Bakery.
Local bloody landmark(!) Are you going to shift or do I have to go to t'council for a bloody demolition order? Why don't you go to night school instead and learn euthanasia, you bloody thing? Oh, go on, get lost! We're only half open.
All right, give us three half-cups of tea.
Sid! Here, keep your molars off.
Get away, I ain't had any breakfast! Do you ever? Mmm.
Sometimes I have a bit o' dripping.
Would you believe it? 1973, the age of the computer, and he's still eating dripping.
Well, tha don't know what tha's missing.
Gravy's a dying art.
SID AND IVY BICKER Some people ought to get their mouths double-glazed! You're early this morning, you lot, aren't you? Aye, we're having a day out.
We're going to Upperdyke Hall.
If somebody I know's relative gets round to picking us up! Have tha got any dripping, Sid? That went out with the Depression.
Nay - Sid went out with the Depression.
Then he goes and marries it.
Huh.
Tha's not far wrong, either! Wish I could get a day out now and again.
Do you know, I never go out on me own, me.
Come on, Sid, don't exaggerate.
What about national service? HORN TOOTS CHILDREN CHATTER, DOG BARKS You've woken him up, Chip.
He shouldn't be, not with all that swill inside him.
I could hear him sloshing every time we went round the corner! He's just like his dad, a 14-pinter.
Who's a 14-pinter? Eh(?) Aye They must be in the cafe.
I've been meaning to talk to you, our Connie, about wearing longer dresses.
You'll go mad if I do.
All right, you lot, come on - in the back.
CHILD: Oh, no Come on.
In you go.
Come on, budge up Watch the dog! Come on.
Right And how was they able to build places like Upperdyke Hall? By plundering poor folk like me! You could plunder him all day long and all you'd get was itchy.
We were in a big house in the Army.
Glasshouse(?) No, it weren't like that at all.
It were like a castle.
It had little tiny windows and dark corners.
Oh! Barbara Castle.
BLAMIRE LAUGHS Oh, we had to guard it.
That must have been a sight.
You on t'battlements.
It were t'training centre for Army typists.
By 'ell! You were there, weren't you? Army typists(!) You old warhorse.
Do your ears still twitch at the sound of the massed Olivettis(?) Well, I didn't ask to be posted there.
I wanted to be near me mate.
Where'd he got to? Hospital, he had deformed feet.
What a war record.
Fancy pitting that against the master race! Well, we won, didn't we? No thanks to you! Be fair, Cyril.
Maybe his mate was the brains behind the second front.
Maybe he was sitting up in bed plotting strategy scratching his deformed feet.
Oh, but he had a good thing going with black market petrol.
He used to buy it off the Yanks, then flog it to this vicar who was trying to combat sin within the regions of the American Airfields, and he didn't know how to cope with it on his bicycle.
Lucky for you you didn't come face to face with the enemy.
We had some Gerry prisoners billeted near the big house.
'Ello, close combat stories now, eh? One of 'em built me a crucifix out of a bullet.
They were all right.
They were better than our sergeant, I'll tell ya that.
Where was he from? Wales.
Oh, well.
I give it to a bird in the village, but it were no good, it didn't get me anywhere.
You know, they were getting too much stuff off the Yanks.
If it didn't have a flamin' oil well or a ranch, it didn't stand a chance at all.
So we had to go back to Lucy, she were our corporal cook.
She had blood all down her apron.
And you wouldn't imagine the things she could do with a whistle.
Hello! Hello, Chip, 'ow are ya? You all right? Don't go out just yet, she's changing a nappy, it's a terrifying sight.
How's the family then, all right? Aye, multiplying.
Dad, can I have some ice cream for t'dog? No, you can't.
Go out.
Get back in the van.
Van? I didn't get a right look at 'im, but I think he were one of ours, they usually are! Oh, great.
Dripping! That's our Chip.
All right, come on, you lot.
Hurry up and get in.
Come on, you lot.
Come on.
Watch me feet! All right, gentlemen? DOG BARKS Mind that dog, he eats clothes.
I'm not kidding, corduroy even! He's supposed to eat rabbits, but no chance.
Not unless he finds one in a tracksuit.
Mind the doors! He's a lovely boy.
We've got none, you know.
All I can do is mother 'im.
You can have one of ours, we've got a van full.
He's nowt but a big kid himself.
They're all alike, love.
Say goodbye to your Auntie Ivy.
Ta-ta! If I had my way, we'd all be sterilised.
Ha! Let's go, come on! Stop 'em, Chip, they'll fall in.
They won't fall in.
I've 'ad 'em playing on the roof and everything, Hey, you kids, don't go too near the water.
I bet he hasn't even got a licence for it.
What, for biting her ear? Road fund licence.
I told you.
It's expired.
Well, I expect it slipped his mind.
Since 1967? There's a good dog, Abbey.
Of course, this would be completely outside my experience had I not once been inside the area offices of the National Pool Board.
Can you feel the sense of history? It's marvellous.
I bet they got mice.
That is a Constable.
It must be CID in that outfit.
Unless it's a police woman.
I knew a police woman sergeant in Huddersfield wi' a face like that.
A painting by Constable, you tatty 'erbert.
She threw me out of a boozer.
You've had an interesting life.
Yes, he has.
Never wasted any of it on work, did he? They call her Muriel.
Who told you that? She did.
This police woman sergeant.
She was sat outside this boozer and Rubbish! He's talking rubbish.
She fancied you.
I think she did.
Out of all them fellas in the pub, it was you that she selected to toss out on the pavement.
I thought it! Compo's going to be here all night, Do you know, I'd never have though of that.
It just come to me.
He's a bigger liar than No, no, no.
It's a very touching little story.
He was touched all right.
I've seen him flapping his arms, and trying to fly off the wash house.
Shows grit.
Scientific curiosity.
Shows grit all right, a face full.
Well, I had hole in me jersey.
You've always had hole in your jersey.
On a dewy morning, it looked like a spider's web.
COMPO GROANS There was a time when I had the scientific curiosity.
During old Fosdyke's lessons.
I was very impressed by the behaviour of iron filings.
All them invisible patterns in the air.
It makes you think.
Maybe the Almighty's got a plan, after all.
Or is he just passing the time embroidering his doily? Wehay! DISTANT VOICES HE SPLUTTERS COMPO COUGHS AND SPLUTTERS Ugh! You two.
In years to come, archaeologists round here may discover traces of a culture based upon greyhounds and extra-marital sex.
The aristocracy certainly know how to live.
Every stupid pillock knows how to live, you just keep breathing in and out.
You know it's just a habit.
You could break it if you tried.
I was referring to style, you evil goblin.
Here! That's where I've seen him, squatting on toadstools, being unpleasant to fairies.
There it is.
Style, refinement, culture.
What he means is they all used to loll about in their golden wellies.
All I needs is money.
Never.
You're not telling me that if you had money, you could producea place like this? I'd be satisfied if he bought his own fags! It's easy, you just pick up a phone and order a palace.
Hey, that'd fetch Mrs Batty running, eh? I wouldn't want it like this any road.
I'd have some right pigeon pictures You can see it, can't you? A betting shop in cinemascope.
The only bloke in England with ferrets on his crest.
Yes, I should clap me hands and order Mrs Batty to be brought before my golden throne.
I'd give her a whole wing.
I give you three guesses who'd get parson's nose.
Aye, she'd be after me then would Mrs Batty, eh? I'd put it to her straight, as soon as she finished curtseying, I'd say, "Righto, Nora, come on, let's be knowing.
" How much do I owe you for this clothes line? Get off.
Wrong century, that's my problem, you see, born too late for the age of elegance.
LOUD BELCH Uh-oh, certain rumblings in the catering trade.
The dog won't bite, but if you're feeding the kids watch your fingers, especially this one, he's got teeth like his mother.
Look! She can't keep her hands off me.
Aye, we're all sexpots us simonites.
We know, look at your Albert.
Aye, well, that were a mistake.
He thought he knew her.
Well, couldn't he shake hands like anybody else? Kids, off you go and play.
Shaun, take the baby for a walk.
Come on, then.
Give him some grass.
Don't go near the water now.
You stay with your uncle.
Come on, lad.
Ah, here, there you are, Julian, there you see your first man eating pate, that's potted meat for Tories.
She breeds like a duck, but she's kept her figure, hey? I should have kept it away from you.
I can't stand fellas who obliterate the ends of paragraphs with HP Sauce.
Have you finished here then you lot? Well, we have if you're going to get violent.
Well, take your mucky mess with you.
She'd make a right bouncer that one.
Must be the duchess.
Hey, duchess! Don't forget, he's with us, tha knows.
I shall deny it whoever you are.
Where's the father? He ought to be doing this.
They've gone off on their own.
They don't get much time on their own.
They get quite enough by the look of this lot.
Julian, wipe you hand! Not on my coat, there's a good lad.
Use your hankie.
Oh, not on there! Oh my god! Shut up whittling, Cyril.
Hold the water.
CHILD WHINES What did you say? Oh, now he wants to be picked up.
Well, pick him up, there's plenty of places you can use for handle.
Come on then, hey up.
Oh dear, how can he be hungry after eating all that lot.
How's the baby? Seems nice enough.
But I think they're more attractive when they've got all their fur.
This is no way to see a stately home.
He's eating again, I don't know where he puts it.
I can tell you where he puts it, all down my trouser leg.
They're completely out of control these children.
Oh, and they get a piece of string and put it on the dog.
Skin's funny stuff when you think about it.
We started off like animals, but we're going to finish off more like fruit.
In summary, there is a set of six stairs of Chippendale pattern.
Closely following the pattern in the cabinet maker's own book, The Director, published in 1754.
The earlier periods of oak and walnut are represented by a fine set of six Dutch chairs.
Come on.
Just a moment.
Let me remind you of Olly Aspinall, to improve himself, and finally became a first class prat.
Shh.
This staircase gives onto the family's own private quarters whilst in residence.
The present Earl is a man of wide cultural and sporting interests, and, er RUSTLING Ah-ha.
One moment.
Just a moment, your lordship, I have the keys.
Just one moment, your lordship.
Shan't keep you a moment, your lordship.
It'sit's these keys.
I keep telling them it's obvious they ought to be marked.
But we don't always get the same set.
Our housekeeper gets her fingers in them.
I'm coming as fast as I can, your lordship.
She thinks she owns the place.
Gets away with it because certain parties fancy her.
And you should see where she's allowed to park.
We've got to leave our cars where the great snorting British public can swarm all over 'em.
Ah! Ah.
Will you move back please, just move back a little bit.
Give us a little bit of elbow room, come on.
Get back there, that's it.
I should fetch a shovel, old lad, he's crapped all over t'carpet.
No idea how to behave on Ducal premises! Come on, at the double.
Oh, give over! No idea.
Oh, they're coming.
Hello.
How are you? I'm not going in there.
Come on! Here you are, lad, take care of dog.
What would a lass like you do for another barley wine? Nothing.
Now, think twice before you make a decision like that.
It's too important for snap judgments.
Well, it's been a change.
It's been a catastrophe, a humiliation.
Economical, though.
It don't cost much.
Well, I enjoyed it.
Out in fresh air.
Fresh air? You've been swilling ale for the past two hours.
Here, put your sleeve in here.
Put your arm in there.
Stop waving it about! I can insert me own arm, thank you very much.
Here, I'll get Chip to run us home past the woods.
All right, Chip.
All right, Compo.
Yeah.
There were at time when I knew every inch of them woods.
And the shortest way through Rosemary Sutcliffe.
Well, everybody knew that.
I didn't.
Everybody normal.
I was perfectly normal, thank you very much.
I remember during the war, I had plenty of offers.
But I sweared an oath to be faithful to Ann Shelton.
While the others were out carousing, I was sitting, playing her records.
You stupid pillock.
You wouldn't understand.
You've never had any finer feelings.
I've had finer feelings than that.
She didn't even know you existed.
Oh, yes, she did.
I wrote to her.
And one Monday night, on the forces programme, she sang My Yiddische Momme just for me.
Oh, it's pathetic.
It was a beautiful relationship.
You know, I went into battle with her letter on my person.
She wrote to you? Yes.
The letter said, "dear listener", and the "dear" was underlined.
The trouble was, I was torn between here and Anne Ziegler.
Why, didn't you fancy Webster Booth? You know what it's like.
When peace comes, you drift apart.
The trouble was, they spoilt me for other women.
Her down at the rates office seemed lacklustre by comparison.
Of course, there were the usual physical things.
You know what it's like in wartime.
Yes, it was peacetime, only darker.
The night before battle, one's thoughts drifted towards Desertion? .
.
Brief episodes of the flesh.
Medical inspection.
Ah! What what did you feel when you got to t'tropics? I had prickly heat.
Oh, very romantic(!) A giant moon, and him scratching his bot! Just think, Cyril, if it wasn't for the war, you'd have given up all the golden moments of your youth for a life of dedication in the service of the Huddersfield Coke and Gas Company.
Well, I was sinking into the pension.
Oh, you reckless sod! Anyway, I was perfectly normal.
What, in them plus fours? Well, they were considered very smart in those days, especially in my set.
Your set?! You mean that spotty kid that worked for t'tram company? His father had a car! Very rare in them days.
You shoulda seen it - looks like somebody's shed! You must've been a right youngblood in those days, Cyril, with your little 'tache, and your first trilby.
Soon passes, doesn't it? Aye.
You don't get a lot of time given for being 19.
SINGING SINGING CONTINUES CHEERING THEY ALL TALK AT ONCE All the best, ta-ra.
Here, time you and I were home.
Oh, no! One for t'road.
Here's wishing me every success with my daily trouble and Mrs Batty.
In that order? No, not necessarily.
Here's to me brother-in-law, who shows deep tact and understanding by keeping out of me way.
Well, here's to the lady that managed the NAFFI in Oswestry during the war the one with the glasses.