Episode 3 Decline and Fall

He ran the whole length of the Quadrangle

without his trousers?

-Yes, Master.

-SLAP!

He told me he was a bank robber.

I wonder which of his stories are true.

Whatever you do intend to do with your life - aim high.

That's what I do.

Margot, please don't marry Otto.

Maybe you can come and work for me?

I've booked you on the 5pm flight to Marseilles.

We get married in four days.

Don't worry, ladies, I'm here to help.

SHIP'S HORN BLOWS NEARBY

CHATTER AND BUSTLE

Monsieur.

Monsieur Pennyfeather?

Oui. C'est moi.

So, Monsieur Galeon.

The Pharaoh's Daughter sails to Rio tomorrow.

And Margot would like her two girls to be on it.

As I say, the League of Nations, they don't like it.

All they seem to do is make it more difficult

for young women to get about.

I have seen these, they are not good.

What's wrong with them? They're passports.

Yes, bad ones.

Mrs Margot must understand the new situation.

Perhaps, for a fee,

the girls could be employed on the ship?

As stewardess?

And if they had employment on the ship, then you'd let them travel?

It is better that way.

Well, fine.

I will fix it with le capitaine.

It will cost 5,000 francs for them...each.

That's outrageous!

If they're working, people should be paying them.

HE SIGHS

I've been instructed to pay you.

But I must warn you, when I see Margot,

I will be advising that she review this process.

-DRIVER:

-Sorry, sir, looks like the press are here. I'll get the gate.

-CLAMOUR

-Mr Pennyfeather! Mr Pennyfeather!

How does it feel to be getting married tomorrow?

-Very good, thank you.

-Do you know what Margot will be wearing?

-Will this be the most expensive wedding ever?

-No, no. Ha-ha.

-Quick quote for the early edition, sir?

-Right, that's enough!

CLAMOUR FADES

This looks pretty smart. What do you think, sir?

Marvellous.

Did you get assaulted by the press at the gates?

Wanted to know all about you. I told them you had webbed feet.

I'm surprised you've chosen Digby-Vane-Trumpington

-as your best man.

-Well, he asked if he could be.

-Right...

HE CLEARS HIS THROAT

I can't tell you what Llanabba Castle is like

now that you, Prendy and Captain Grimes have left.

Little Lord Tangent died from complications

and the food has gotten so much worse.

Maybe we should ask Margot to take you away?

Please. There's also a rumour that Dr Fagan himself is leaving.

-There we are.

-Thank you.

I do hope tomorrow goes well.

TELEPHONE RINGS

-Hello?

-'Hello, Paul.'

Margot, darling. How are you?

Oh, wonderful, darling.

I'm feeling positively virginal.

I'm just consumed by final decisions.

There can't be much more to resolve, can there?

Oh, endless things.

How was Marseille?

'Good. All fixed. I met with that Monsieur Galeon.'

I must say, he's a pretty appalling person.

-And his English wasn't great.

-'Yes, well, he's an oaf.'

But were the girls being allowed to board the boat?

Yes. They sail this afternoon.

Oh, good!

'Great job, darling.'

DOOR BELL RINGS

Margot, I can't wait to see you, but Alastair's here.

We're coming up to town for my bachelor lunch.

Oh, yes. You must go.

'But don't let Peter get too drunk, and you must have the sponge.'

I will. Goodbye, my love.

See you tomorrow.

Pennyfeather!

You filthy miscreant!

Have you seen the papers?

Our wedding's all over them.

I, er, said I'd do an article for The Sunday Excess

describing my feelings on being best man.

I hope that's acceptable, old chap?

I'd rather you didn't, Alastair.

Oh!

Well, I've said yes now, so...

Do you know anyone who would write it for me?

Um...

Doubt we'll have time to eat it all, but we should get everything.

-How are you feeling?

-Good. Nervous about tomorrow.

I think I'm going to have the boar and hare

and duck and venison.

Which of you is Mr Pennyfeather?

That's me. Look, I really don't want to speak to the press again today.

I'm Inspector Bruce of Scotland Yard.

Is this about security? I really don't have time to talk to you now.

This is my bachelor lunch.

I don't care if it's the King's Christmas tea party -

I've got a warrant for your arrest.

Oh, don't be an ass!

You've clearly got the wrong chap.

This is Paul Pennyfeather.

He's getting married to Margot Beste-Chetwynde tomorrow,

at St Mary's, Itchen Stoke.

You old enough to be drinking that, son?

Those names mean nothing to you, of course...

Don't try and obstruct the law, sir.

You'll be able to continue with your lunch, but you need to come with me.

Oh, let me go and sort this out. I'll be back shortly, order for me.

I'll have the steak and kidney suet,

the daube of beef, the rabbit hotpot and the crown of duck.

Not the pig cheeks? It's excellent here.

-Comes with apples AND a black pudding.

-Oh, well...

-Maybe that instead of the daube?

-Come with me, please, sir.

-There's guinea fowl.

-I can't make up my mind.

No, what Alastair said. Suet, hotpot, pig cheeks, duck.

-Any pud?

-You are under arrest, sir.

-I'll be back shortly.

Maybe choose now in case they detain you for an hour?

-Pass me the menu.

-You are under arrest, sir!

There's a souffle - that should take about 25 minutes?

Oh, I won't be that long. Oh, it's difficult.

You are under arrest.

Ssh... Wait!

OK...rush decision - apple parfait.

-No, quince crumble.

-The sponge pudding is good.

-The sponge is legendary.

-Oh, sponge, parfait, parfait, sponge.

-What do you think?

-Have the bloody sponge!

No. I'll have the bloody parfait.

-Good choice.

-You are under...

Yes, yes. Right, I'll go and sort this out.

I'll be back before the hotpots get cold.

Let's order him a salad as a joke.

THEY SNIGGER

-I should've got the sponge, shouldn't I?

-You're under arrest

for aiding and abetting prostitution, for slave trading -

specifically two women known as Jane Jenkins and Marie Dubois -

and for passport forgery, in breach of common law.

Our first witness is the man who,

through tireless work and diligence,

has been able to put together

the full picture and international sweep

of Mr Pennyfeather's crimes.

Arthur! You're not going to give evidence against me?

I swear by Almighty God, that the evidence I shall give

shall be the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

Would you give your name and job for the record, please?

My name is Arthur Potts, I'm senior officer for the League of Nations,

working chiefly in combating white slavery and prostitution.

And is it true that you have been building a case

-against Mr Pennyfeather for several months?

-I have.

Arthur, we did rubbings together!

Be quiet!

I've been following the accused for several months intensively.

As a result, I am now able to describe, in some detail,

the full reach and grim sordidness

of Mr Paul Pennyfeather's despicable crimes.

What are those crimes?

Beneath that seemingly fresh face

lies the dark, stale soul of a man

who delights in prospering from the sexual slavery of young women.

Beyond imagination is the full extent of his unholy violations.

But I have them listed, here.

He is a vampire.

I'm not a vampire! MURMURING

-Order! Order!

-BANGS GAVEL

A vampire who I can now prove preys upon the worst instincts

in our society for his own personal gain.

And it is my personal view

that these degradations are made all the more sickening

by the fact that, at the time of his crimes, he was attempting to marry

into one of the most honoured families in our country's history.

Mama is upset about this whole situation.

We both are.

-Is she...?

-She wanted to come and see your trial,

but she's gone off to Corfu instead. On her own.

Well, just her and some Russian friends.

You can imagine what a time she's having with reporters and people.

-Of course.

-You don't think that's awful of her, do you?

No.

There's a way she might be able to help you.

Can you remember that fat, annoying man called Maltravers?

The Transport Minister?

He's Home Secretary now.

He came round and said to Mama that if she married him,

he'd be able to get you out.

-Ah...

-She asked me to ask you how you'd feel about that.

Hmm...

Not great, really.

I think she feels your arrest

may have been, in some small way, her fault,

and I think she'd like to help if she can.

She'd like to help me by marrying Humphrey Maltravers(?)

She said the question for you was -

would you rather she married Maltravers and you get out now,

or would you like to wait until you finish your sentence

and marry her yourself?

I'd like her to wait for me, please.

Good! I thought you'd say that. I'm so pleased.

She will...wait for me...won't she?

I'm sure she will.

I don't want that absurd MP as my stepfather.

And I can't imagine they'll give you more than a year's sentence.

Seven years' penal servitude.

GAVEL BANGS

-Name?

-Paul Pennyfeather.

Bit different from The Ritz, isn't it?

We don't like your sort here much.

Posh white slaver?

You're in for a nasty welcome.

Hello, Pennyfeather!

HE CHUCKLES

How the devil are you?

He's not Pennyfeather. He is D4-12.

Always knew I'd see your pretty little face again.

-It's lovely to see you, Philbrick.

-You, too.

Get your clothes off, you ballbag!

Put your possessions here.

I always wondered what had happened to you.

They caught up with me, eventually.

-What are you doing over there?

-I'm on reception.

What with me being an old hand.

Not your first stretch?

Not exactly.

You two finished your mothers' meeting?!

Get your clothes off!

-Shoes - brown, one pair. Clean.

-TYPEWRITER KEYS CLACK

Socks - fancy, one pair. Unclean.

Hat -

-fancy, brown...

-Walnut.

KEYS STOP CLACKING, TYPEWRITER PINGS

Sorry?

It's...

It's walnut.

Doesn't matter...

You are going to hate it here so much!

Here you go! Got you the best I could find. Barely any lice.

TYPEWRITER PINGS

Cigarette case.

KEYS CLACK

Fancy.

Silver.

What's this?

Cigar piercing.

You watch your lip, you pansy bogbucket!

Have you, at any time,

been detained in a mental home or similar institution?

I was a teacher in a Welsh boys' school.

Don't you make jokes in here, young man, or I'll have you in the straps.

Sorry.

Suffering from any diseases?

VD? Consumption?

-I don't think so.

-Cough!

GRIPPING, HE WHIMPERS AND COUGHS WEAKLY

Good.

You're nice and fit,

I'll put down that you're capable

of undergoing all of the prison punishment.

Handcuffs, leg chains,

body-belt, canvas dress,

close confinement,

diet one, diet two.

Diet four.

Birch-rod beating and the cat o' nine. Any complaints?

Must I have them all at once?

Go away.

This is your new home.

Keep it clean.

Hey, you aren't going to commit suicide, are you?

I don't think so.

Good. Cos it's not allowed.

You start hard labour tomorrow.

Mail sack stitching?

Nearly. Granite quarry.

HINGES CREAK, CLANKING

LOCKS CLUNK

You here for long, Philbrick?

Not this time.

Six months for robbery

and impersonating a member of the clergy. Mind you, I like six months.

It's a nice little sentence.

Gives me an opportunity to see me old pals.

-Lifers, most of them.

-You don't mind working like this every day?

Whoa, whoa, whoa. You're putting far too much into it.

They don't expect us to ACHIEVE anything.

It's just a way to fill the day, you know, get a bit of fresh air.

Mind you, that being said, this prison's going to the dogs.

Hopeless governor.

Matey, you'll never guess who the new chaplain is?

Can't believe he's still wearing that wig.

Good morning, everyone.

We'll begin this morning by singing I Vow To Thee My Country.

Oh, and, um, I would appreciate it

if you could try TO stick to the correct words today, rather than...

doing your own...

..amusing adaptations.

Stick to the words,

or it's diet number one.

HE MOUTHS

ORGAN PLAYS INTRODUCTION

UP!

ALL: # I vow to thee my country

# All earthly things above

# Entire and whole and perfect

# The service of my love... # HE SINGS FALSETTO DESCANT

I heard you'd been sentenced, but I had no idea you'd end up here.

It's good to see you in a dog collar.

-How long have you been here?

-A few weeks.

The Bishop thought that the best place for me to practise

being a modern churchman was in a...a prison.

The new governor is famously modern.

So, I thought I'd enjoy it -

but some of the prisoners are even worse than the boys at school.

They PRETEND to make confessions

and then, they...they tell me the most shocking things.

Well, I'm pleased to see you again, Prendy.

Please...

you mustn't call me Prendy.

That will only make me even more unpopular.

So, I think you need to realise

the enormity of your crimes and the justice of your punishment.

Pray for penitence.

Sorry to disturb you, Your Honour,

but there's prisoner here, D2-18,

asking to see Your Honour.

Er, he...he wants to discuss the appointment of the new Archbishop.

See you later, Father.

You moved that pawn! >

PIECES CLATTER ON GROUND

Woe unto the Philistines!

Woe unto the uncircumcised!

The Lord shall deliver me!

But you will be crushed beneath him!

SHOUTING, WET CRUNCHING

Oi! Break it up!

COMMOTION

I shall cast you into the depths!

-Who is that?

-Harold.

COMMOTION, HAROLD ROARS

What's he in here for?

Tax evasion.

BELL RINGS

Really?

-HE CHUCKLES

-No!

SHEARS SNIP

The governor wants to see you.

Thank you for coming to see me.

Have I done something wrong?

No, no. It's simply that my aim

is to establish contact with every man in my care.

Nice to make your acquaintance, D4-12.

I want everyone here to take pride in their prison.

And, as far as possible, I want people to continue

with the vocations they had in civilised life.

Er, what was this man's profession, Officer?

-Sex traffic.

-Ah!

Ah, well, you won't have the opportunity to do that here.

The important thing is that, during your time here,

I don't want you to feel that your personality is being stamped out.

What are you passionate about?

Freedom and long-distance running.

Ah... Ha-ha!

Yes, yes, well, there is an exercise course.

And we have all the arts and crafts,

and a new course in botany,

which I have just introduced.

I want to bring forth a new epoch in penology.

And, if you don't mind being one of the guinea pigs,

I have an opportunity to test it here.

I want you to realise that, in my eyes,

far from being a nameless felon, D4-12,

you are part of a penal revolution

that is all about the human touch.

Now, um, do you read Modern Politics magazine?

-No.

-Well, there was an article in it recently

about what they called the Lucas-Dockery Experiments.

Oh, look! It's you!

I like prisoners to be aware of these things,

so we can have a sense of corporate pride.

To be honest, I don't much care for arts and crafts.

I'd be perfectly happy spending some time in solitary confinement.

Sounds quite nice.

No, no, no. That is exactly the sort of inclination I want to fight.

No, I don't want anyone here indulging in introversion.

What did you do before your crimes?

Er, did you lead a lonely life?

How do you mean?

Were you perhaps a shepherd or a lighthouse keeper?

-I was a teacher.

-Aaah!

That explains it. Misanthropic tendencies

induced by a sense of inferiority in the presence of others, yes.

I...I will set up some further stages in your treatment,

um, but for now...um...

I want this prisoner to exercise daily in the company of others,

and during this time, inmates must discuss history,

philosophy and public events.

-You get the idea.

-Mm.

You see, individual attention

is being paid to your reclamation.

How does that make you feel?

Super.

Right, bogbucket D4-12, in line with the governor's instructions,

here is your new pal for you to chat to. Get going.

How do you do?

So, how long are you serving here?

Five life sentences.

What do we do?

Walk around talking about art and the like!

Get on with it!

-So, do you think this is a good idea of the governor's?

-Yes.

Talk about something, you pair o' bogbuckets!

What are you in for...if you don't mind me asking?

It's all in the Bible. You can read about it there.

Do you ever have visions?

-No.

-Neither does the chaplain.

He told me that. And him, a clergyman.

Should clergymen have visions?

He's no Christian, that priest.

I think I know what you mean.

I believe he's what they're calling a modern clergyman.

It was a vision that brought me here.

An angel came to visit me.

Oh! That's nice.

He said, "The Lord hath numbered his elect.

"The day of tribulation is at hand.

"You are his appointed.

"You are his lion.

"Kill and spare not -

"for his kingdom is at hand.

"Kill and spare not."

Did you kill and spare not?

I smote the Philistines in the name of the Lord.

I struck off five heads.

Woe unto the Philistines on that day.

Woe unto the uncircumcised.

Right, that's enough chatting, you two.

You - inside.

How was that? Helpful?

I think that man might be dangerous.

Course he is. If it was up to me, he'd be on diet number two.

Lockdown. Lockdown. Back in your cells.

-CLANKING, DOORS SLAM

-Back in your cells. You!

Everybody in!

CLANKING DOORS

DOORS SLAM, LOCKS CLUNK

'I think Margot has treated you very badly.'

I was always brought up to believe that it's the right thing

to shield a woman from any harm.

Who taught you that?

Your father?

My guardian. I never really knew my father.

Oh, I'm sure that most of the time, that's a good precept, but...

..Margot isn't a woman.

She's a monster.

I think she's behaved disgracefully.

She sent you to Marseilles, didn't she? It's her business.

She's culpable.

Surely you can see that?

Look, I know what you mean...

..and I am annoyed at her...

..but at least I know that I behaved correctly.

And it's got you seven years.

-Could you imagine Margot in here? Even for a moment?

-Very much so.

Well, you're wrong about that.

Margot - in a prison uniform?

Mail sack stitching?

Wandering round draughty corridors, dressed in grey pyjamas?

You don't know her like I do.

-Thankfully!

-Whereas I can survive in here.

Yes, it's a bit chilly. There's a good routine.

I'm reading lots.

The food's not awful.

Bit like school, really.

So, there's one law for her, is there, and another for...

..everyone else?

You know what, bizarrely, I think you're right...

PRENDY SCOFFS ..there is.

Your friend, Vane-Trumpington,

has done an interview in which he says he always knew you were evil.

'Slops out!'

Come on!

Slops out!

CONTENTS OF BUCKET SPLOSH

-You've got a visitor.

-Is it a beautiful Latina woman?

Mama wants you to know that she thinks about you constantly.

That's nice. Is she back from Corfu?

Oh, no, she's in Paris. But she sent me a letter.

She misses you terribly.

She thinks it's quite wrong how you ended up in here.

Just for trying to help those two girls

secure the only employment that they were fit for.

I think about her, too.

A lot.

She's been talking to her Home Secretary friend, Humphrey Maltravers,

about how to get your early release.

Has she being seeing a lot of Maltravers?

Only occasionally.

Weekends.

Weekends in Paris?

But she will wait for me, won't she?

She's waiting till I get out?

I'm sure she will.

I think so.

I have to escape.

Don't you like it here?

I've got to get out of here

before Margot feels compelled to marry Humphrey Maltravers.

No-one ever escapes Egdon Heath.

Many have tried, but it always ends badly.

February was the last attempt - by me and Marcel Laurent.

Marcel was part of the mob

that done the Hatton Garden jewellery job last summer.

We made it over the wall,

but, as I landed, I twisted me ankle.

So, the screws got me, but Marcel ran on into the night.

Now, he realised if he was going to escape the dogs,

he'd have to run into Edgon Mire.

WIND HOWLS, FROGS CROAK

But no-one escapes the mire.

First thing they found was his prison hat

on the surface of the bog.

Then, an hour later, his drowned body.

And that's the way it's always been at Egdon Heath.

If the guards don't get you...

..the bog will.

WIND HOWLS, CROAKING, WOLF HOWLS

PRISONER CLEARS HIS THROAT LOUDLY

I'm talking.

Well, I have to escape.

Everybody, back in your cells.

Lockdown. Back in your cells.

You! In your cell!

DOORS CLUNK AND SLAM

LOCKS CLANK

KEYS JANGLE

DOOR SLAMS, LOCK CLANKS

HE RAPS ON WALL

HOLLOW THUD

SMALL TAP

HOLLOW THUD

DUST PATTERS

I'm coming, Margot.

METAL CLATTERS

HE SIGHS (Bugger.)

THUDDING

Grimes!

Here we are! Together again!

-How are you?

-I'm in the soup.

As per bloomin' usual.

-When did you get here?

-Yesterday.

I've been in some bad situations before -

but I've never been anywhere like this.

-What are you in for?

-Bigamy!

Of all the ridiculous convictions!

I was having a very happy time, running that nightclub in Rio.

-You liked it there?

-Oh, yes.

My kind of climate. Lovely people at the club.

Good drinkers. Tolerant police force.

Very little bother. And I had to come back to England

to see Margot on business

and the buggers were waiting for me as I got off the boat.

-Margot's in London?

-Yes. I can't stand it here.

It's just not good enough.

It's all right for you, you're antisocial...

-No, I'm not!

-Yes, you are, you like reading.

I'm a sociable creature.

You know... I like having a drink and a bit of fun.

I'm going to have to escape.

I can't STAND repression.

I need to get out of here, too.

But no-one's ever escaped Egdon Heath.

Well, we'll be the first, shall we?

I've started digging a tunnel.

You know Prendy's here?

No. I'm not surprised.

Always knew there was something furtive and forbidden about him.

He's the chaplain.

Oh.

I see.

Well, nonetheless...

I've been stealing these from the dining hall...

..then, at night, chiselling through the wall.

-How long has that taken you?

-Five weeks.

Eventually, I hope to get through to the cavity behind the wall,

then I can escape via the sewage ducts.

But we might have all died of old age by then.

I need to get out of here, Grimes.

Every moment that I'm in here

is an opportunity for Humphrey Maltravers to seduce Margot.

That's why I think we might need something a bit quicker, old chap.

And won't the guards see the tunnel once you've gone?

No, because I'm going to use this poster to cover the hole.

That way they won't realise I'm missing until the morning roll call.

And if you're in the tunnel,

how will you place the poster back over the hole at this end?

-How else can we escape?

-I don't know.

Personally, I'm just going to pick my moment

and trust in Lady Fortune.

INAUDIBLE CONVERSATION

Do you want a game of chess?

If you say "no", I WILL set fire to your head.

Let's play chess.

HE GIGGLES

Are you letting me win?

-No...

-Then why did you make such a bad move?

You can't be that stupid.

No, I...I am that stupid.

Glad to see you two are friends.

You destroyed our game.

It's fine...

WOOD SPLINTERS

You filthy washpot!

I will cast you into the depths!

You Moabite!

GUARD GRUNTS

You are the whore...

-WHISTLES BLOW, COMMOTION

-..of Babylon!

HE ROARS, SCUFFLING

COMMOTION

< GRUNTING

Right, then, the failed priest

and the frustrated carpenter.

-I was just playing chess. I didn't even...

-Shut it, you bucket!

I have had the entire situation explained to me.

I suggest a period in the straps, sir, for both.

Perhaps a birch-tree beating.

I don't dispense justice like a slot machine, Officer, as you know.

In comes the offence, out goes the justice.

I want you to know that it was entirely wrong of you

to attack and insult the chief warder.

He is none of those things that you called him.

He symbolises the disapproval of society.

And, like all prison officers,

he is a member of the Church of England.

He is not the "Whore of Babylon".

But I want you to know that I understand your predicament.

You are a carpenter by trade

and I understand that prison life has deprived you

of your means of self-expression.

And so, you vent your energies in angry

and rather foolish outbursts.

And so, I have seen to it that a carpentry bench

and a few tools be provided for you.

Er, here, so...

Pencil, protractor,

chisel, hammer

and a saw.

Now, the first thing I want you to do

is to repair that stool you broke.

Do you understand?

And once you've done that,

we'll find some other work for you to take satisfaction in.

Perhaps a chest of drawers or a French armoire?

Thank you, Lord.

There's no need for formality here.

Besides, I'm a knight,

not a peer of the realm...

-yet.

-HE CHUCKLES

Are you sure this is wise?

You see, here, we tackle the cause of the trouble, not the symptom.

And in your case, D4-12,

I have asked that you join a theological seminar group

as a matter of urgency.

The prison chaplain will be visiting you both on that very matter.

Right.

DOOR CLANKS

Right, roll call.

Good morning, chumpies.

-Show yourselves.

-HE KNOCKS

Show yourselves.

GUARD KNOCKS ON DOORS

Up you get.

Behold the head of the false priest!

I...

am the sword of Israel.

HE LAUGHS

RENDING

THUDDING

BELL RINGS

SOUND DISTORTS

HE WHIMPERS

HEARTBEATS THUD, HE PANTS

Sawed his head off?

You mean cut his head off.

Sawed his head off.

Governor had given him a carpentry bench.

Poor old Prendy.

He was never really destined for a happy end, was he?

He didn't deserve THAT death.

And Dr Fagan's closed Llanabba Castle, I hear...

..and set up a nursing home.

End of an era.

< Here, hold this.

HORSE SNORTS

TRICKLING

Oi!

Get back here!

Oh!

Sorry!

GUNFIRE, THEY GRUNT

Aim at him, for God's sake!

GUNSHOTS

Lady Fortune...

GUNSHOTS CONTINUE

He'll never make it.

HUSHED MURMURS

Shh...

Hymn 263,

O God, Our Help In Ages Past.

ORGAN PLAYS INTRODUCTION

Stand.

Sing.

ALL: # O God, our help in ages past...

FOLLOWING MELODY OF HYMN: # Is there any news on Grimes?

# What, ain't you heard?

# His horse came back

# And he is missing still

# They've searched the heath

# And all the farms

# But still no sign of him

# They got a shepherd and some dogs

# That led them to the mire. #

-They found his hat?

-On the bog.

-But no body?

-A horrible death, that mire.

Do you think he's dead, Philly?

Really?

This is Grimes we're talking about.

An immortal soul.

The governor has written to the Home Secretary confirming his death.

No-one survives the mire.

No-one except Grimes, perhaps.

Prendy's dead.

One day, you and I will be dead.

-But Grimes...

-Bogbucket D4-12, you've got a visitor.

To my AMAZEMENT - it's a woman.

Margot, my love, I'm so pleased to see you.

Oh, darling, I'm so pleased to see you, too.

I'm sorry I haven't been able to come sooner to visit,

but work has been ridiculous.

TARTLY: Has it?

I'm so pleased that's going well for you.

Don't be nasty to me, darling.

I shan't be able to cope.

In fact, I'm selling the company.

That's what's taking up all of my time.

Oh, how are you? Is it awful here? I've been worried about the food.

Keep your hands on the table, please.

Pair of you.

Good thing I had them manicured.

How do I look?

Do I look awful?

Well, perhaps a little mal soigne.

Oh, are they feeding you?

Do you get to wash every day?

No discussion of prison regime is allowed.

My, dear! I didn't realise it was going to be like this.

I don't mind if you want to talk personal.

I only have to stop conspiracies and plots.

If you want to talk personal - you can.

Nothing I hear goes any further. I hear a great deal, I can tell you.

Why, I've never been made to feel so shy in my life!

Don't worry, we won't be discussing anything personal.

Margot, I love you,

but I'm worried that you're sleeping with the Home Secretary.

You will wait for me, won't you?

I've only got another six years and ten months to serve.

Oh, don't worry, darling,

I'm confident you won't have to serve your full term.

But I do have some news.

It's the reason I came.

I'm going to be marrying Humphrey Maltravers.

Now, I'm sorry, but I've realised he's the one for me.

And my marrying him may help you, too.

How can it help me?!

Darling, don't wail!

Not in prison.

It WILL help you.

I just need you to know that's not why I'm doing it.

I thought that you'd wait for me. You said that you would.

I know, but things change.

This has been terribly difficult for me -

please don't make it any worse.

I will make it worse.

-SHE SCOFFS

-In that case...

..it was wonderful to see you,

and I hope to see you again very soon.

Given where I am...

I may not be able to make the wedding(!)

You can kiss if you want.

I know you're not man and wife, but I'm happy to watch that.

Goodbye, darling.

You're in luck.

Your visitor left you some grub.

In you go!

Number one diet, it ain't.

Pigeon pie,

pate,

and a bottle of sherry.

DOOR CLANKS AND SLAMS

CLATTERING

HE GRUNTS

HE SOBS

Cheers.

Life.

Life's like a Ferris wheel, ain't it?

Well, it goes round and round.

You...

You can get on and have fun...

..and go up and down and round and round...

..or you can stand on the grass...

..watching.

Now, I...

I used to be on the wheel.

Having fun, going fast.

Up and down, round and round.

And now, I'm stuck in here.

Watching.

Static.

-HE SOBS

-This ain't where I'm supposed to be.

I think it might be.

CROAKING

KNOCKING

D4-12?

We have a letter here from the Home Secretary,

granting you leave to have your appendix removed this afternoon

at a private nursing home.

It's not for me. I haven't got an appendix.

It was taken out when I was at school.

Nonsense. You can have your other one out.

We have an order here from Sir Humphrey Maltravers himself

especially requiring that this operation is done.

Officer, take him away and give him his clothes.

I'll be at the van.

Shoes,

socks...

..suit,

pocket watch,

cigarette case.

And, um...

..whatever this is.

Here's your will for you to sign...

..should anything go wrong.

Who gave you this?

The young gentleman that's arranged everything.

Which young gentleman?

I don't know names,

but it's very sensible to make a will.

You never know, with an operation like this, what may go wrong.

Right...

Here ends my responsibility.

From now on,

the doctor's in charge.

Get going, then, you filthy bogbucket!

-Pennyfeather!

-Dr Fagan?

It's a delight to see you again.

Welcome to my nursing home.

Come on in.

Home Office regulations meant that we had to put bars

on these windows for your operation.

-You're going to be taking out my appendix?

-Not me personally.

Goodness, no.

Er, Peter's bringing the surgeon to us now.

Well, he's going to need good luck. I haven't got an appendix any more.

Well, he's highly regarded.

I'm sure complications like that

won't be anything he hasn't seen before.

KNOCKING, HINGES CREAK

-Paul!

-Peter!

-How wonderful to see you.

This is all down to you?

Well, it's all Mama's idea, but I've been pulling the levers.

Have you signed your will?

This is your surgeon.

Oops-a-daisy...!

Initially, I thought he was going to be

too tired to move - but I, um... I managed to get him here.

Have you got ALL the papers signed?

Mr Wilson?

This is your patient!

What am I doing today?

Is it another amputation?

Er, no.

You're here to remove Mr Pennyfeather's appendix.

That's right, I remember.

But before you operate, I have some things for you to sign.

Now, this is a statement you are to forward to the Home Office,

a duplicate to Sir Lucas-Dockery at Egdon Heath Prison.

It's all right. I will sign them.

They state that you operated for appendicitis,

but that the patient...

died under the anaesthetic without regaining consciousness.

-TEARFULLY:

-Oh, no! Poor chap!

No, you must not be sad.

You did everything you could.

Yes, I did!

I really did!

Poor man.

I did everything I could!

Everyone knows that.

Yes, we DO know.

And here is the death certificate.

So, let's sign all these here.

And then we'll pay you.

Oh, good. Yes, I do need some money.

Not sure where all my money goes.

Here we are.

HE MUMBLES

Oh, thank you for your assistance, Nurse.

Not sure what's wrong with me today.

Perhaps I need a little sharpener?

Steady my hand before surgery.

But you do recall that you performed the operation,

and, sadly, the patient died?

You just signed his death certificate.

Oh, yes. Very sad.

I did all that was humanly possible.

Yes, you did. Here's your money.

Oh, marvellous, thanks.

This calls for a little celebration.

Yes, I think it does. I think the pub should still be open,

-if you want to go and find one.

-I will. Thank you so much.

It was lovely to meet you all.

Thank you!

Now you're a dead man, what will you do?

I don't know.

Something quiet.

I wonder what happened to Grimes?

-Do you think he's dead?

-No, I don't.

What will you do now?

Go back to King's Thursday.

Mama will be anxious to know how things have gone.

Say hello from me.

Do you still love her?

In a way, I will always love her.

But I don't think she was very good for me.

Then, in September, I'm off to Cambridge.

Good for you. Then you'll become Prime Minister.

That's what Mama wants.

Well, good luck.

You're a rather amazing young man.

I've always thought that.

Goodbye, Peter.

So, Pennyfeather, you're going to be studying theology?

We had a Pennyfeather here before, you know.

Um... Yes, I can't remember what he was studying.

-Yes. A distant cousin, I think.

-Ah!

Yes.

You look nothing like him.

I must say, he was a very queer sort of a chap.

A complete degenerate, I'm afraid.

Got in with a very rum bunch -

used to dance round the quad naked.

I wasn't surprised to hear he'd died in prison.

That's right. A very queer chap indeed.

Anyway, I'm sure we shan't be encountering any such behaviour

-from yourself.

-No.

Someone once told me, a strange German architect, in fact,

once told me that people are basically divided

into two different types - static and dynamic.

Well, I'm pleased to say I've learned I'm very much

a static type of person.

I'm glad to hear it.

We don't want any dynamic people in this college!

-CHEERING OUTSIDE

-Ah!

The Bolly Club are having their annual dinner.

They must have started early.

RAUCOUS CHEERING

Come on, boys, strip him off!

-FABRIC RIPS

-That's it...

CHEERING AND LAUGHTER

-Wonderful!

-HE CHUCKLES

Oh, there'll be some fines tonight!

CHEERING AND CLAPPING