Ha! Do you ever feel like throwing open the window
and shouting that the world is a wonderful place, Jeeves?
Erm... No, sir.
Dancing in the street, scattering petals on passers-by?
Only infrequently, sir.
Then you've never been threatened with marriage by Madeline Bassett
only to be saved at the bell by the unspeakable Roderick Spode.
They make an...interesting couple, don't they, sir?
Let us hope the engagement stays the course.
lt's only got to stay until Saturday, Jeeves.
We have dispatched the toast rack.
On Sunday, Madeline will awaken as Countess of Sidcup
and be out of Bertram's hair.
l trust that your optimism is justified, sir.
You're being a wet blanket. l'm going to the Drones while you pack.
Very good, sir.
Thank you.
- Ah! What ho, Bertie. - Tuppy. l haven't seen you in an age.
- l've been busy. - Coming to Totleigh?
No. Why?
The wedding. Madeline Bassett and Spode.
No. Not since Barmy and l bombarded him with turnips at one of his rallies.
- l'm sorry you won't be able to join us. - l couldn't anyway.
- Far too busy with Plumbo-Jumbo. - Plumbo-Jumbo?
lt's a good name, isn't it? My idea. l've sunk all my money into it.
- You haven't got any money. - Well, all my father's money.
He's going to make me a fortune.
Now, l've come across this inventor chappie, name of Wifflingham.
One thing he's been working on is this machine.
lt not only clears drains but it coats the pipes with a secret mixture while it does.
So they never get blocked up again.
l put my advertisement in all the papers. l'm just waiting for the work to flood in.
ls that a joke?
ls what a joke?
(Car horn)
Are you all right, sir?
You wanna take more care, dancing about in the middle of the street.
- l thought you were a goner. - l blasted well nearly was.
Oh, it's you, Wooster.
Hello, Reggie.
- Do we know him, Jeeves? - l fear so, sir.
So this is your famous Ganymede. Jolly nice place.
Good of you to say so, sir.
You have to be a butler to be a member?
Quite so, sir.
You haven't seen the hon sec, have you? l can't find the fella anywhere.
- l'm afraid not, Brinkley. - What a do, eh? (Giggles)
Don't miss the emergency meeting.
Who is that blighter? ls he a valet or a butler?
Not now, sir. An uncle in the grocery business died
and left him a house and a comfortable sum of money.
- You employed him once, if you recall. - l did? What as?
lt was during that uncomfortable period, sir,
when we'd had a disagreement about your trombone playing.
Good grief. He got drunk and burnt my cottage down. Now he's a landed gent.
Scarcely that, sir. He has a small establishment in Totleigh-in-the-Wold,
coincidentally enough.
- There is something l ought to tell you. - Tell away, Jeeves.
The purpose of the emergency meeting to which Brinkley referred
was to discuss the theft of the Ganymede Club book.
(Tyres screech)
- Theft, Jeeves? - Yes, sir.
lt's been stolen? The book in which you've written down my eccentricities
for the amusement of Ganymedians?
Not only yours, sir,
but the idiosyncrasies of all the gentlemen's gentlemen.
And not for their amusement, sir, but as a guide to those seeking employment.
The penalties for omitting any details are severe, sir.
You know what that blasted book invites? Blackmail, that's what.
Now you say the blasted thing's stolen.
What'll be the upshot? Ruin. That'll be the upshot.
l'm sorry, sir.
lt's not an expression l often use, Jeeves, but... tuh!
Very good, sir.
Good Lord. Ginger Winship.
Bertie. Nice to see you.
- Are you here for the wedding? - By-election. l'm standing for Parliament.
No! But you're an absolute idiot, Ginger.
l know. But it's a safe seat. l didn't really want to but my fiancee insisted.
- She said l should carve out a career. - Yes, well, they're like that. A drink?
No. My fiancee says drink hardens the arteries.
- My arteries could do with hardening. - She has me on a reducing diet too.
Good God. Sounds just like Florence Craye.
Who sounds like Florence Craye?
Ah, Florence. Ginger was telling me about this beautiful, highly intelligent girl
he's got engaged to.
- Harold is engaged to me. - Ah, well. That explains it.
You're down for Madeline's wedding?
Good. You can do some canvassing for Harold while you're down here.
- Well... - Good. Come on, Harold.
You've got your meeting in ten minutes. You too, Bertie.
Mrs McCorkadale?
(Ginger) Ladies and gentlemen.
Well. Erm...
As you know... Well, of course, perhaps you don't.
Well, anyway, it's true. There's a by-election in Totleigh-in-the-Wold.
Hear, hear!
Thank you.
Oh. My name's Winship, by the way. Harold Winship.
And l'm...well, sort of...standing.
l'm your... What do you call it? Erm... Candidate.
(Ginger) Oh, as a Conservative, of course.
l mean, if you'd like to vote for anybody,
l'd be, well, jolly grateful if it was, well, me, don't you know?
Thanks awfully.
How'd it go? Not that it matters.
Winship hasn't got an earthly.
Take my word for it, cocker.
Phone your bookie now. Get your money on the Labour candidate,
Mrs McCorkadale.
He just stood there saying, ''Er...''
lt didn't much matter. You couldn't hear him more then five feet away.
Bertie's exactly the same. Mumble, mumble, mumble.
- (Bertie) l say... - l think he's got a nice speaking voice.
Nice?
Put your knife and fork down straight if you've finished. Don't slump.
(Clears throat) As father of the bride to be,
l must say that l look forward to Saturday being one of the happiest days of my life.
The happy couple.
Marriage is an honourable estate.
But in the 20th century, it has fallen into some disrepute
due to the question of overpopulation.
lt is my intention to introduce a bill
forbidding anyone earning less than £500 a year to have children.
At £500, he can have one child, at £1000, he can have two,
£1500 three, and so forth.
(Gurgling water)
Something up with the bath?
The water appears reluctant to drain, sir.
Oh. Got the plug out, have you?
That was amongst the first things l thought of, sir.
l exchanged words with Brinkley earlier at Mr Winship's election rally.
- Yes, l noticed. - l was perturbed by his manner.
- Oh. What did he say? - He advised a bet on Mrs McCorkadale.
lt was the easy, insolent way he said it,
as if he knew he could profit from something that isn't common currency.
- (Water gurgles) - Oh...
(Spode clears throat) l'm here to introduce your new candidate.
Ladies and gentlemen, my own elevation to the peerage debars me from standing
but there are others to carry on my great work.
My design for a giant, collapsible Channel bridge,
first to tempt the unsuspecting foreign hordes, then to hurl them into the waves,
is well under way.
Hear, hear.
(Woman) A most slimy creature called Brinkley.
He has this book in his possession
which he says contains information about useful indiscretions
on behalf of my opponent in this election, Mr Winship,
which, if made public,
will be certain to make the worst impression on the voters of Totleigh
and, as he put it, make it a walkover for me.
Ha! He's asked me for money for the book.
- What did you do? - Sent him away with a flea in his ear.
But l thought it only proper to let Mr Winship know.
The moaning minnies will try to tell us that these measures are too radical,
too bold, but l have to say to them, Rome may have been built in a day,
but it took only a trumpet to bring down the walls of Jericho!
(Cheering)
l should now like to present to you the face of modern Conservatism,
my good friend, your candidate, Gerald Parsnip.
Harold Winship.
Erm...
- (Gurgling) - Nothing seems to be happening.
What ho, all.
You're no good at drains, l suppose?
- Good Lord, no. - Every sink in the place blocked solid.
- Looks like a job for Plumbo-Jumbo. - What-o what-o?
Well, this pal of mine... chum of a pal, actually,
has a machine for this sort of thing.
l don't know if we want machines. These drains go back 200 years, you know.
The Gentle Giant, they call it.
- Who do? - This pal of a chum of mine.
The other way round, rather.
l can't possibly come to Totleigh. Spode would tear me limb from limb.
No, he won't. lt's your big chance. You can come in disguise. Right.
(Coughs) Pardon me, sir. l have some disquieting news.
- Brinkley's trying a spot of blackmail. - Yes, sir.
l don't see what harm he can do.
What if he should try to sell the contents of the book to the local newspaper
and if in consequence Mr Winship should lose the election?
l imagine democracy would survive the blow.
Lady Florence has informed Mr Winship that if he does not win the election
their engagement will be at an end.
Good God. You mean Florence will again be roaming the land
thirsting for confetti and a three-tiered cake?
- lndeed, sir. - She may turn her attention to me.
lt seems most likely under the circumstances.
This is serious. We shall have to steal that book back from Brinkley.
(Birds sing)
You should have heard them, Madeline. The applause, the cheers.
lf l were contesting this constituency, McCorkadale wouldn't get one vote.
You can't. You're in the House of Lords now.
l know, l know. Not one vote.
(Engine clatters, horn beeps)
What in God's name is that?
Are you the gent what sent for Plumbo-Jumbo?
- Don't l know you? - Couldn't say, guv. Shouldn't think so.
Not unless you happen to be in the plumbing game, like.
(Tuppy laughs and snorts)
Cor, strike a light!
- (Whispers) lt's me, Tuppy. - l know it's you, you fool.
Let's get out of here, Jeeves. We've got a burglary to commit.
l'm here as a fellow member of the Ganymede Club, Brinkley.
l have reason to believe you have absconded with the club book
which, as you well know, is strictly against the rules.
(Brinkley) Come along.
- You had no right to remove that book. - Business is business, Reggie.
l did heavy betting on McCorkadale. l have to protect my investment.
(Brinkley) l'm not obliged to anyone but meself, Reggie.
(Jeeves) You swore an oath.
(Jeeves and Brinkley argue)
(Policeman) l spotted a burglar climbing into an upstairs window.
l removed his ladder so he had no means of escape.
- An intruder! - (Clears throat)
- Out of the way, please, sir. - Move, Reggie!
This way, sir.
l think we can slow down now. There's no one after us.
l shall feel more secure with the Ganymede book safely locked away.
Then take it back to the house and lock it away. l'm going to catch my breath.
Very good, sir.
(Woman giggles)
(Screams)
l'm sorry, Ginger. l didn't, erm...
l suppose this seems a bit odd to you, Bertie. l love Magnolia.
No. Pull yourself together. You're meant to love Florence.
Oh, Bertie. The trouble is, you meet this girl with a perfect profile,
curly hair and a willowy figure and, ''Bingo,'' you say.
''This is the one. Accept no substitutes,''
little knowing you're linking up with a sergeant major
with strong views on discipline.
Florence is firm, l grant you. She's resolute.
- She's a nag. - No, she offers advice.
lf only l'd looked a little further.
l'd have found the kindest, sweetest, gentlest girl that ever took shorthand.
l allude to Magnolia Glendennon. She's my secretary.
Sorry, but there's a snag here. l suspect you've spotted it.
- Florence. - Well done.
lt's all right. l'm going to get Florence to break our engagement.
- No, no, Ginger. Let's not be hasty. - l'm going to lose the election.
How? Voters of Totleigh would vote for a bunny rabbit if it wore a blue rosette.
- You don't know about Brinkley. - Brinkley and the Ganymede book?
- Oh, you do know. - Mm-hm.
That book contains damaging stuff about me.
lf it was revealed, it would hand the election to Mrs McCorkadale.
l've given Brinkley a hundred quid, and he's getting the book for me.
l'm going to send it to the Totleigh Argus Reminder with instructions to publish.
Well, l have bad news for you. Jeeves has the book.
Well, that's good. He can take it to the Argus Reminder.
Sorry. To Jeeves, that book is sacred. He'd never let it out of his hands.
- You could persuade him, Bertie. - Well, l doubt it, Ginger.
l'll do my best, of course.
(Water gurgles)
How long is this going to take?
(Laughs)
There you are, you see. You can't rightly say, guv, can you?
l mean, how long's a piece of haddock, like?
Right, sir. Here we go, ladies and gents.
(Clanking)
(Faint hissing)
ls that all?
(Whistling and hissing)
There you are. You see?
(Rumbling)
Bertie? What did Jeeves say about the book?
No go, l'm afraid, Ginger.
- Very well. - What do you mean?
You'll see.
- What are you doing in here? - Ooh. l wasn't, er...
- Oh, it isn't, er... - Who are you, anyway?
l was, er... l was just coming to see you.
What for? What's that book you're carrying?
lt's a book. l'm carrying it.
- Bring it here. - Oh, it's nothing. l, er...
Don't palter with me, man. Bring it here.
- Did you write this? - What if l did?
- Did you or didn't you? - Oh, all right.
lt's most interesting. You can't use real people's names, though.
- Oh, no. l know. - Trying to add verisimilitude?
- Uh? - Look here. What's your name?
- Mr Brinkley. - Look here, Mr Brinkley.
(Clanging and thumping)
What on earth is that noise?
(Bertie) What do you mean the book's gone?
- Here we are, sir. - You don't understand, Jeeves.
Mr Winship wants it published so he can lose the election and not marry Florence.
- Who could have taken it? - Mr Brinkley, l dare say, sir.
But l don't think we need to worry on that score.
Lord Sidcup's eloquence on behalf of Winship is having such a marked effect
that l doubt that revelations by Brinkley or anyone else
could do any more than dent his majority.
Really, Jeeves? Are you sure?
Well, that's wonderful.
The way forward for this country, out of the slough of despond it has fallen into,
is through public ownership of mines, railways, road transport,
electricity generation and all other essential services.
(Murmurs)
Don't let my opponent frighten you into thinking otherwise.
Thank you.
Well, l've listened to Mrs McCorkadale
and er... erm...
To be quite honest, l'm convinced. l think you should all jolly well vote for her.
Harold!
(lndistinct)
Oh, Ginger! You were wonderful.
Ladies and gentlemen. Please...
(Shouting)
Silence!
l have...an announcement to make.
(Glass chinking, drink pouring)
(Woman sobs)
(Woman sniffs)
Oh, Bertie...
- How could he, Bertie? - What ho. l didn't see you there.
How could Harold give up the election in that cowardly manner?
- Er... Well... - What is wrong with men today?
- Well... - Perhaps l misjudged you.
- Perhaps you're no worse than the rest. - Oh, no. l am. Much worse.
l'm going to give you one more chance.
- l don't deserve it. - No, perhaps not.
Fate has ordained it. You may announce our engagement, Bertie.
Bertie? Come in here, Bertie.
Well, this is good news indeed, Bertie.
l have absolutely no intention of marrying Florence Craye.
What are you burbling about? l was referring to little Madeline Bassett.
l'm not engaged to her. Little Madeline Bassett is engaged to Spode.
- We're assembled here for the wedding. - Do be quiet, Bertie.
Lord Sidcup and Madeline no longer intend to marry.
He feels that because of popular demand
he must renounce his title in order to enter politics.
Well, l don't see what that's got to do with it.
lt would appear that Sidcup's only attraction for Madeline
was the prospect of becoming Countess of Sidcup.
That gone, she would prefer to cast her lot in with you.
Well, she can't.
She's not one of the girls l had marked down for you, of course,
but she does show remarkable determination
for one so soppy.
Perhaps there's more to her than meets the eye.
(Jeeves) The dinner gong has sounded, sir.
Don't even mention food, Jeeves. Who was that fellow with the circles?
You are perhaps thinking of the Florentine poet Dante Alighieri, sir,
who, in the first part of his Divina Commedia
is conducted by Virgil through the nine circles of hell.
That's the chap. Well, those fellows he bumped into had it easy.
- One could take issue with you there. - Were any of them engaged to Florence?
(Jeeves) The poet makes no mention of it, sir.
Or condemned to stand trembling at the altar steps
while Madeline Bassett advanced on the arm of her father?
(Jeeves) lndeed not, sir.
lt had to happen to somebody one day, l suppose. And it happened to me today.
Fate has dealt me the royal flush, Jeeves.
l'm engaged to Madeline Bassett and Lady Florence at the same time.
Oh. Oh, dear, sir.
There's nothing l can do. You brought it on yourself.
l know, l know.
lt's no joke for a girl who wants to be Countess of Sidcup
to have the fellow say, ''April fool. All you'll be is Mrs Spode.''
- She'll still be Lady Spode. - But only a baronet's wife.
Hardly the same thing.
Added to which, you land me with that lunatic Wooster as a son-in-law.
l know, l know. But you've seen these people, Watkyn.
When l speak, a hush falls.
Then a little murmur of interest. Then...a mighty roar of approbation.
They need me, Watkyn. The people need me.
Oh, it's you.
Hello, Spode. Good Lord. There you are, what. Hello, Sir Watkyn. Splendid.
You know, Watkyn, l simply cannot make it out.
As far as l can see, he's without any attraction at all.
lntelligence? No. Looks? (Chuckles) No.
Efficiency? No. When one considers all his defects,
one only supposes Madeline is marrying him in the hope of reforming him.
- No, no. You see... - Be quiet, Wooster.
Let me tell you something, Wooster.
lf you disappoint little Madeline's hopes,
l shall be waiting for you.
Right. Well, toodle-pip.
Ooh!
Why, Bertie. Are you saying good morning to the flowers?
- Er... yes, that's right. - Oh, Bertie. We were always soul mates.
Really?
No, no, Bertie. Don't kneel to me.
You've waited so long and so patiently,
and at last tomorrow you are to get your reward.
- Tomorrow? - The ceremony was arranged anyway.
Daddy says we can't afford to cancel it and do it all over again.
- Ah, Brinkley. - This is a bit of an 'ow-do-you-do.
l was on my way to see you to demand the return of the Ganymede Club book.
l haven't got it. l wish l did. l'm trying to get it off Florence.
Lady Florence has the book?
She thinks l wrote it. Thinks it's a novel.
Why are you so anxious to retrieve it?
Now Spode's standing, l needed to scupper him.
My bet's on McCorkadale, no matter who's against her.
But there's nothing in the book to harm Sir Roderick.
The Eulalie business is out of date since he sold the lingerie shop.
Eulalie nothing. Don't you know about, er...
Well...l'm not about to tell you, am l?
lt's only gone in recent, though it happened years ago.
Didn't know it was in the book meself till l happened to glance through it.
She calmly informs me that the execution day is tomorrow, Jeeves.
What am l going to do? l can't step out of this room without a woman collaring me.
Fortunately, neither has got wind of my engagement to the other yet.
(Bertie) No, it's on a knife edge, l tell you.
- Jeeves? - Sir?
Oh, l'm sorry, sir.
l was cudgelling my brains as to how to retrieve the book from Lady Florence.
l'm afraid that compared with my imminent marriage to Madeline Bassett
and subsequent imprisonment on charges of bigamy,
together with the probability of Spode doing unspeakable things to me,
the whereabouts of the club book is but a pimple on the face of the moon.
Very good, sir.
But l've only just heard that the book may contain sensitive information
concerning Lord Sidcup, which might be used to persuade him to resume his title
and so pave the way for a reunion with Miss Bassett.
Oh. Now don't toy with me, Jeeves. Don't give a condemned man false hope.
lt's not that Eulalie business again, is it?
- No, sir. Something recently inserted. - Really?
Oh, Jeeves. Jeeves, l'm sorry. l should have had faith.
l'm not myself. Madeline Bassett's been on my mind.
The prospect of being linked
to a girl who would put her hands over my eyes and say, ''Guess who?''
has given my morale a wallop.
l understand. Very unpleasant.
What Lady Florence might do is beyond imagining. Well, we must get that book.
(Bertie coughs)
- Bertie. - What? (Clears throat) Oh, Madeline.
- What are you doing in here? - Just looking for my socks.
Why would you look for your socks in Florence's room?
Florence's room? Oh, where am l? l feel faint.
l must say, Florence. This engagement of Bertie's makes me very happy.
Well, er... l'm glad that you're pleased.
Are you all right, Bertie?
- Where am l? - l told you. You're in Florence's room.
- What l want to know... - Who are you?
- Bertie! - What are you doing in my room?
- Who? - Why is he lying on the floor?
- He's having a brainstorm. - (Agatha) What with?
Why come into my room to have a brainstorm?
The poor darling doesn't know where he is.
But you do, presumably. What are you doing here?
- Well, l saw him come in and... - Aaahh!
- Bertie! - He's making a lot of noise.
What he needs is peace. lf l could ask you to leave him with me.
He must come with me. After all, he is my...
Aaaahhh!
Remember Bertie and l are...
Aaahh!
Where does it hurt, Bertie darling?
Do not address Bertie in that overfamiliar tone, Madeline.
l don't see why she shouldn't. She is, after all...
Aaaahhh! The agony, the agony...
- lt's getting worse. - Perhaps l can be of assistance?
Oh, Jeeves. Have you ever seen him like this before?
With increasing frequency, l regret to say.
We should loosen his collar.
l hardly think such drastic measures are called for. lf you'd allow me.
(Clears throat) Can you walk, sir, if l assist you?
Oh... Er...
Aaaaahh! Jeeves...
He recognises you. He didn't know who l was and l'm his...
Aaaahh! l do apologise, sir. You trod on my toe.
- Sorry, Jeeves. - Just hold on, sir.
We'll get you your tablets.
By George, Jeeves, that was a close call.
- Did you find the book? - Madeline came along before l found it.
l can't risk it again. You do it.
l couldn't engage in anomalous activities in any house in which we are guests.
- Oh, come, Jeeves. - (# Man singing)
# Laugh, l thought l should have died
# Knocked 'em in the Old Kent Road, have a banana #
Tuppy?
Oh, sorry, gents. l was just looking at your pipes.
- Tuppy, it's me, Bertie. - Bertie!
Sorry. l really do get rather carried away. l wonder if l were to go on stage.
Pardon me for interrupting but a notion has come to me.
Well, that's the best news l've...
Yes, Jeeves. Tuppy, come in here a minute, will you?
Have a seat, old man. Drink?
- Jeeves, a brandy for Mr Glossop. - What's going on?
Now, Tuppy. We have a little job that we'd like you to do.
Job? What job?
What are you doing up here, Constable?
Sir Watkyn ordered me to patrol the house to guard the wedding presents.
(Tuppy) No, no, no!
- What was that, Mr Butterfield? - That'll be Mr Wooster's room.
ln your role as Mr Plumbo-Jumbo, you have access to all the rooms.
Steal the book while everyone's at dinner.
l won't steal it at all.
As insurance, l could send Lady Florence a telegram demanding her in London.
There you go. Can't say fairer than that. Get that sent off now, Jeeves.
Don't bother. l'm not going to do it.
Very well. Jeeves, pop down and ask Sir Roderick to come and see us.
No! But...that isn't cricket, Bertie.
l'm sorry, Tuppy. Desperate times call for desperate measures.
Pour Mr Glossop another desperate measure, will you?
Oh. Pardon me, Lady Florence.
- Mr Brinkley. Good afternoon. - lt's about my book, Lady Florence.
l've been reading it with great interest. You have a forthright, muscular style.
l just wondered, er... if l could have it back.
And a brilliant use of different handwriting for each chapter
to reinforce the concept of the multiple narrator.
Multiple... Yeah. Yes. l just thought...
Pardon me, Lady Florence. A telegram for you.
Oh. Thank you, Jeeves.
What a nuisance. l have to go to London to see my publisher this evening.
- What l'd like to do is, er... - Goodbye, Mr Brinkley.
(Slurps)
Oh! Ooh... Who are you?
My friends... (Clears throat)
The Totleigh-in-the-Wold by-election for which l'm standing
is merely a beginning.
(Clears throat)
Sir Watkyn, sir, l have apprehended two intruders, sir.
No, that's the Jimbo-Jambo man.
Plumbo-Jumbo, sir.
What were they doing in Miss Florence's bedroom?
He's got my book! Give it here!
You! You are the man who ruined my Earls Court rally throwing swedes!
Turnips. Doh!
Do you know what l'm going to do to you?
(Sir Watkyn) No. He's our only chance of fixing the plumbing.
(Sir Watkyn) But he's only made it worse so far with that Dumbo-Crambo.
Plumbo-Jumbo...
l'll butter you all over the lawn.
Then l'm going to dance on the fragments in hobnail boots.
(Tuppy shouts)
The blasted window, Spode!
Ah!
l'll get it, Sir Watkyn.
(Tuppy shouts)
(Whistle)
(Owl hoots)
- Any luck, Jeeves? - Oh, indeed, sir.
lf you were to say the word Celia to Sir Roderick, it will have the desired effect.
Celia. You couldn't tell me more, l suppose? Rules of the Ganymede?
Just so, sir.
So l just say the word Celia. Spode becomes putty in my hands,
reclaims his title and marries Madeline.
- l think it extremely likely, sir. - Right.
(Knock on door)
- You? - Yes, me, sir.
l want you to give up this stupid idea of standing for Parliament.
Oh. You want me to give up this extremely stupid idea
of standing for Parliament, do you?
- Yes, l do. - You should have said so before,
you snivelling little wet.
Do you know what l'm going to do to you?
Yes, yes. l'm accustomed to your threats of mindless violence.
The first thing you will be aware of is your teeth rattling down your throat.
l have just one thing to say to you, Spode. Celia.
Celia?
Yes. Celia.
Or was it Delia? No, it was Celia.
Oh.
Oh, Celia.
Oh...
- So, let's hear no more of it, Spode. - l'm sorry, Wooster.
- Apologies are just not good enough. - No, l know. l'm sorry.
Oops. There l go again.
Just look to your behaviour in the future.
Wait a minute. Wait a minute.
Now look here, Spode...
- What about Celia? - Er... Well...
You don't know anything about Celia, do you?
Well, erm... lt's a... lt's a girl.
Ah! You don't know anything about Celia.
lf you did, you couldn't prove anything.
Now, look here.
You!
Aahh... Ooh.
(Spode) Mrs Gregson...
Oh, dear...
- You can get proof in London? - l believe so.
- And be back by morning? - l will do my best.
- Go, then, on wings of whatsit. - Very good, sir.
Otherwise, l'm chief mourner at my wedding.
Where are you, Jeeves?
Take it like a man, Wooster.
Jeeves! Ha!
Bertie, l really am most annoyed.
That telegram purporting to come from my publisher was a hoax.
- Good Lord. - The time wasn't wasted, however.
- l was able to think about our wedding. - Oh, good.
St Margaret's, Westminster, l think. Don't you? Yes.
Well... er...
Of course, Daddy will expect the reception to be at the Park Street house.
Ha, ha. Now, do you...
Bertie! You mustn't see me.
Why did she say that you mustn't see her?
Did she say that? l thought she said the dress looked...seamy.
Seamy?
Yes, that's why she's rushed into her room, l expect. To take a few seams out.
Bertie, can you stop drivelling for one moment and tell me what is going on?
Oh, all right, dash it.
Very well. Madeline and l are going to get married.
No. Madeline is going to marry the Earl of Sidcup.
She's given him the bum's rush and l'm...
She's...marrying you?
Yes. ln about half an hour.
(Florence) What?
Wooster!
Where's that blasted chum of a pal of a friend of yours?
How should l know? Spode chased him off.
His thing's still running.
- (Sir Watkyn) Switch it off, Bertie. - l...
You've made it worse, you blithering idiot.
You'd better get off to the chapel. Roderick's going to be your best man.
What?
So you are not the groom after all, m'lud?
- No. He is. - l am.
Perhaps not, sir.
Jeeves. Did you...?
Perhaps Sir Roderick would be kind enough to come into the vestry.
What for?
Celia...
He spent his youth in the Antipodes in straitened circumstances.
Those circumstances improved dramatically overnight
and Sir Roderick was strongly suspected of nobbling Celia in a kangaroo race,
a sport to which our Australian cousins are attached.
- That was the actual Celia? - No, sir.
But l felt the likeness was sufficient to deceive Sir Roderick.
(# Wagner: Bridal Chorus from Lohengrin)
lt's gratifying, sir, that Miss Bassett bore the end of your engagement so bravely.
Bravely isn't the word.
As soon as she heard there was a chance she could still make Countess,
she dropped me like a hot pimento.
l can't help feeling bad for Lady Florence in spite of her assault on my topper.
That is hard to forgive, sir, but a lady will express heartbreak in different ways.
(Bertie) What on earth is she doing with Brinkley?
l persuaded Sir Watkyn that Brinkley could restore the faith of local electors
in the Conservative party.
He'll be adopted as candidate.
The mixture of prominent novelist and rising Parliamentarian
was too heady for Lady Florence to resist.
Of all the callous, heartless, unfeeling women, Jeeves.
Precisely, l'd say.
- Thank you, Jeeves. - l endeavour to give satisfaction.
Dearly beloved. We are gathered together here in the sight of God
and in the face of this congregation...
(Rumbling)
..to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony.
Which is an honourable estate,
instituted of God in a time of man's innocency...
To signify unto us the mystical union of...
Wooster!
(Spode) Look what you've done, Wooster!
Why? Why?
(Spode) Wooster!
(Growls)
Wooster!
(Splintering glass)
(Spode shouting)