Lucky Jim

Sweet city with her dreaming spires,

she needs not dew for beauty's heightening.

STEAM TRAIN WHISTLES

# Ooh, Lucky Jim

# How I envy him

# Ooh, Lucky Jim

# How I envy him

# Oh, Lucky Jim

# How I envy him

# Oh, Lucky Jim

# How I envy him

# Oh, Lucky Jim

# How I envy him

# Oh, Lucky Jim

# How I envy him

# Oh, Lucky Jim

# How I envy him

# Oh

# Lucky. #

So much for the Chancellor's installation. The seating plan will be on the board.

-Principal.

-Yes.

-It's our first chancellor.

Shouldn't there be some decorations - bunting, flowers or something?

Yes, there should. And the quadrangle's looking pretty untidy,

bicycles lying around and so on.

-Get some of your chaps onto it, Welch.

-Hmm?

That's all, thank you.

-Coffee, principal?

-Thank you.

-Professor?

-Thank you.

-Tell Dixon I want a word.

-He isn't here, sir.

-He didn't come to the meeting.

-Oh?

-Why not?

-Didn't come to the meeting?!

I distinctly told him! You live in the same house - where is he?

-KNOCK ON DOOR

-Open up.

Dixon?

You're driving yourself too hard.

-I'm limbering up for tonight at the Welches.

-We're at the Swan tonight.

You are, but for me, it's culture, lemonade and bed by 10.30.

-Have you got a clean shirt?

-Yes, I've got it on.

-Chuck it over.

-This is important. I need to know if Welch is keeping me on.

-Ask him.

-I'm fed up of asking him. He dodges it.

-Then go over his head.

I can't - it's like the Army! You have to go through the channels.

-Margaret Peel will be there.

-Bound to be!

-Still, this can't be helped.

-Be careful.

-Since that bloke dropped her, she's been looking for a new victim.

-I know!

This is my last chance to make a good impression.

Last time, I knocked over a table - a spindly thing with one leg.

Sounds like Margaret Peel! There's nothing in that.

-No? When I got there, it had four!

-Sounds more like Margaret Peel!

-And she saw me making a face.

-Which one?

-Martian invader.

-That's my favourite!

-Not hers!

Join the car trade like me. I'm off to see a man about a Bentley.

Ah, sonny boy, come to spread some sunshine?

I'm hoping to spread a little.

Well...what about the Installation Committee, Dixon?

-That's on Saturday.

-This is Saturday.

So it is!

Not much point in hurrying now. It's over.

-Did anybody notice?

-Everyone.

I tried to cover up for you, but as you were the only absentee...

-Welch was livid.

-That was a fine start.

-If it's Saturday, I'm late for my tutorial as well.

-Very.

-By the way, you're doing the flowers.

-What are you talking about?

The Chancellor's installation. You're flowers and bunting.

Thanks(!) That makes it perfect(!)

You're welcome.

# Oh, Lucky Jim... #

"He could only satisfy his thirst for glory by leading dukes, barons and their armies against the French."

SHE CLEARS HER THROAT

-Is that the lot?

-Yes. Do you think it's a bit obvious, Mr Dixon?

No, no. But this point about his ambition, his thirst for glory -

what makes you say that?

-Well, it's in the book.

-Don't be too impressed by that.

That's only one person's opinion. I want yours.

-Surely it's generally accepted that Henry was ambitious.

-Bunkum!

It's Henry - someone with ordinary human weaknesses.

Like you - only better-looking.

It was more profitable fighting the French than staying at home.

-I'd have stayed home with the serving wenches.

-What I think is this.

Henry and his boys had a great time, sacking castles, chasing girls...

But they had guts.

The top brass were in the thick of the scrapping.

-BOY COUGHS LOUDLY

-Nasty cough - have a lozenge.

The top brass mucking in like that was a snag for the PBI

because they only got their cut when the best of the stuff was gone.

But that's still true today.

-So it wasn't a war of conquest at all?

-Oh, yes it was. Indeed it was.

But what I'm saying, is that it was grade-A binge as well.

-Oh, I'm, er, sorry, sir. I didn't...

-Carry on, Dixon,

just as if I wasn't...

Carry on.

Oh...thank you, sir.

Yes, well, I, um... Thank you.

Well, that's, um, just one aspect

of the, um... Not the only one, of course.

Yes, well, that will be all for now.

I'd like you to think through the earlier points we discussed and...

-Well, thank you.

-Thank you, sir.

-Good morning, sir.

-Good morning, sir.

-Morning.

Grade-A binge, Dixon?

PBI?

Did you mean FBI?

No, sir, no. PBI. It's students' abbreviation.

-It stands for poor battling infantry.

-Oh.

Even so, your picture of the flower of chivalry is hardly...er...

-As you know, I like my staff to be completely free.

-Yes, I know, sir.

But when I say free, there are limits.

Yes, of course, sir.

Good. I'm not happy about some of the references in these notes.

-What are they?

-My book on Merrie England. I'd like you to check the references.

-I'll try, sir.

-When are you leaving?

-Leaving? I have no intention of retiring.

I meant for the weekend, sir. You invited me to stay.

-It couldn't be this weekend. I've asked some friends.

-I see, sir.

I suppose you could lend a hand. Yes, drive down with me after tea.

-That's very kind. And your notes?

-Yes, don't waste any more time.

# Oh, Lucky Jim, how... #

Hello, James.

-Hello, Margaret, I heard you were back.

-Yes, I'm back.

-You're looking well.

-One doesn't die of a broken engagement, James.

-Of course not. You won't want to talk about it now.

-But I do.

-I want to say something.

-Oh?

-It's just that...I'm so utterly grateful.

-Grateful?

-For what you did.

-But I haven't done anything.

-That's just it.

It was terribly understanding of you not to come and see me.

-Oh.

-Not many people would have been so sensitive.

-Well, I don't know...

-I do.

It's the sort of thing that between two people creates a bond.

-Bond?

-I shall never forget it, James.

Never.

I'm sorry you can't come to our party for Sir Hector.

Yes, unfortunately, I'm occupied.

I haven't really time myself, with the end of term and this installation.

And the History Memorial Lecture.

-Bryant's broken his leg.

-Bryant? His leg?

-We were hoping you could help us out.

-Well, I'd be happy to,

-but it would mean burning the midnight...

-No, you're far too busy.

Who's in your department? Johns - no, not quite right.

What about this new chap? What's his name? Dixon.

-Dixon? Oh, he's quite unorthodox.

-Might be an interesting experiment.

BICYCLE BELL RINGS

-Sir.

-I couldn't wait any longer. Too much to do.

-Sorry, but I was finishing your notes.

-Oh, next week will do.

I really wanted to see you about Professor Bryant. His leg, you know.

-Professor Bryant's leg, sir?

-Yes, it's broken.

I can't possibly deal with it. I have too many other things to do.

-You'll just have to do your best.

-With his leg?

-The Memorial Lecture.

You mean that I am to give the Memorial Lecture?

Well, there's no other way out.

I'm sorry to have to bother you, but my contract's only for a year.

-Is it?

-Yes, and it's nearly up,

so if I'm not going to be kept on, I shall have to look for another job.

-A teaching job?

-Yes.

-Oh...well, let me know what you decide, won't you?

ENGINE STARTS NOISILY

We shall be quite crowded out.

My son Bertrand is down with his, er...

with his, er...

Well, she's Sir Hector's niece, really.

Miss, er... She's Canadian, I think. Though how on earth Sir Hector...

But he travels a great deal, I suppose.

-Do get out! How can I talk to you in there?

-You've locked the door!

-Locked it?!

You'd better take this now. You'll find it all in there.

-What is it, sir?

-Merrie England, the first 300 pages.

-You can draw on it freely.

-Thank you. What for?

The Memorial Lecture. Sir Hector will be there. He's a publisher.

-He may be impressed.

-That's kind but I'd rather choose my own subject.

If you're to become my permanent assistant,

you'd do well to be guided by my advice. My advice is Merrie England.

Merrie England.

I hope Mrs Welch can find you a bed, Dixon.

You mean, she doesn't know I'm coming?

Well, how could she? Celia?

Here.

Ah, there you are, my dear.

Oh, our young friend Dixon asked if he might join us to lend a hand.

-Good afternoon, Mrs Welch.

-This is a surprise.

-You haven't forgotten Sir Hector's coming?

-No, no.

Now, where did I put my...?

How lovely to see you, James. You should have said you were coming.

Come along, Mr Dixon.

We'd better put you in here.

-This way.

-Oh.

Here you are.

WATER RUMBLES IN THE TANK

Oh, it's, er...it's charming.

-The maid will make up the bed.

-Thank you.

My husband said you'd lend a hand.

Yes, Mrs, Welch, of course.

Well, perhaps you can sing.

Sing?!

# Oh, I burn me Oh, I burn me

# Oh, I burn me, alas

# Alas, alas

# La la la la la la

# La la la la la la

# La la la la la la

# I burn me, oh, I burn me

# Oh, I burn me Oh, I burn me

# Alas, alas, alas

# La la la la la la la la la

# La la la la la

# Oh, help, oh, help Oh, help, oh, help

# Ay, me

# Ay, me I sit and cry me... #

Come along, Dixon. Attack it!

-One, two...

-# I cry... #

Yes, surely! # I cry for help, alas

# But none comes nigh me. #

-Bertrand, my boy!

-Father.

Still keeping the torch burning.

-Good to see you. Come and join in.

-My dear boy.

-You look ten years younger. Sir Hector not here?

-We're expecting him.

Ah, Mr Dixon, would you be so kind?

-My son would like some coffee.

-Oh, yes, Mrs Welch.

-No sugar.

Coffee for one immediately, Mrs Welch.

Is that Bertrand's latest?

She's quite pretty, in a way.

Pity she looks so awkward.

Your coffee, Mr Welch. Ah, the tenor - or was it the soprano?

I was trying a bit of both, really.

As I was saying, I often wish I'd chosen a less exhausting profession,

like laying linoleum or something.

Darling, I must serve the coffee.

What exactly is your work, Mr Welch?

I suppose you academic fellows would despise it, but I'm a novelist.

-Nothing wrong with a good novel.

-You'd like Bertrand's - very interesting.

About a man who doesn't know if he's murdered someone or killed himself.

-He has to work it out.

-The real significance is deeper than that.

Is man an entity or the projection of his own ego?

-I'm working on the book jacket - an abstract woodcut to show the theme.

-It gives it body when it's visual.

Yes, well, I can't wait to see it. When will it be published?

It isn't written yet. A good novel is like a good wine -

it must be kept until it reaches perfection. It's maturing.

The wood?

May we share the joke? PHONE RINGS

-Mr Dixon, would you answer the telephone?

-Certainly.

-It's in the dining room.

-Will you excuse me?

What an extraordinary fellow!

-Are you ready, Celia?

-Coming, Neddy.

Let me give you an A.

HE PLAYS A NOTE

-I think that this should prove exhilarating.

-Oh, I'm sure.

-DOG WHINES

-Boadicea, ssh!

Boadicea, put a sock in it!

Ready? One, two...

DOG WHINES

Bertrand!

Please take that dog out!

Come on, out you go!

Yes, I'll give Mrs Welch that message. Goodbye.

Hello. Are you brassed off with that lot too?

Come on, I'll give you a biscuit. Come on.

Come on, there's a good girl. How about that one?

DOG WHINES

Who brought that dog in?!

Sorry, sir.

(Sorry.)

-A message from Sir Hector Gore-Urquhart.

-Well?

-He can't come.

-What do you mean?

-Who's not coming?

-Sir Hector Gore-Urquhart.

What are you talking about, Dixon?

Sir Hector Gore-Urquhart, Professor.

He rang up - well, his secretary did.

-Rang YOU up?

-You should have asked me to come to the phone!

I'm sorry.

HE SIGHS

What's all this about Sir Hector?

-Sir Hector Gore-Urquhart - and I'm tired of saying Sir Hector Gore-Urquhart - can't come.

-Why?

I don't know why. What's all the fuss about?

He's only coming down to become a chancellor.

-Probably some old cod who thinks there's something in it for him.

-Sir Hector is Miss Callaghan's uncle.

-Oh, I say... I'm very sorry.

-That's quite all right.

And the "fuss" is that he's considering my book for publication.

That shouldn't take him very long.

If you weren't a guest, I'd smack you on the nose.

No, you stay there. Sorry, old girl.

-HE BLOWS A RASPBERRY

-What a bunch!

Brrrr! Even the dog tried to get out!

-What's the girl like?

-97% Bertrand Welch.

They often take after the chap they're with.

No, thanks, I have to get back. I shouldn't be here at all, really.

I'm their guest.

You should have seen her - she's a stunner.

The prettiest girl I've ever seen.

-Well, some of those Italian film popsies might be prettier.

-They're special.

And she was with ME. Well, when I say "with", I mean here.

Well...so far.

By Jove, it makes you realise what's possible.

-Anything's possible. Let's have those again.

-What's the time?

-It's early.

But I've got to go. Easy with that.

-What is the time?

-Stop worrying about it.

But I must go.

HE SINGS DRUNKENLY

-It really was great fun.

-Till next week, then.

-Good night to you all.

-It was such fun.

-Do we go the same way?

-Yes, I'm glad to say we do.

I hope the buses...

Disgraceful! Dixon going off to bed without a word to anybody.

Quite so, my dear. I'm afraid his manners...no breeding.

Don't forget to turn off the kitchen light, Celia.

All right.

# Ooooh, Lucky Jim!

# Ooooh, Lucky Jim! #

(Jim!)

-HE SLURS:

-Margaret?

-Jim, dear.

-Is this wise?

-Wise?!

-This is terrible.

-Shh, they're still moving about.

-Sorry, Margaret.

-Oh, don't worry, Jim. What happened to you?

-I went out. Did Mrs Welch...?

-Yes, she did.

-I told her that you'd gone to bed, that you had a headache.

-Thank you.

-Well, I, um...I'd better...

-Oh, Jim!

-You're trembling like a leaf.

-Well, it was a hell of a climb!

When did you realise that you were...?

-HE SLURS:

-I couldn't make out which window it was!

Poor darling! It was terribly naughty of you!

-Well, I'd better be getting back...

-Back?

-To my room.

-Thank goodness it was only you.

-Jim!

-Well, I mean, I might have picked one of the Welches.

-What?!

What was that for?

-Get out!

-What?

-I said, get out!

-Margaret...

-You're disgusting! Take your clothes and get out of here before I scream!

-Oh, my God!

-And don't blaspheme!

SHE SOBS

HE SIGHS

BERTRAND SINGS TO HIMSELF

< Oh, do hurry up! Come to bed!

DOG SNORES GENTLY

MUSICAL CHIMES

CHIMES STOP

CHIMES PLAY AGAIN

CHIMES STOP

CHIMES PLAY

DOG WHIMPERS

Shh!

JIM HICCUPS

HE HICCUPS

JIM HICCUPS

DOG WHIMPERS

DOG PANTS RAPIDLY

BIRDS TWITTER

HE SNORES

# Oooh, lucky! #

MAN SINGS OUTSIDE

BANG!

Oh.

DOOR CREAKS

-Good morning.

-Oh, um...

Morning.

HE CLEARS THROAT

Are you looking for something?

Oh, er... No!

No, no, no, that's, um...

It's all right.

SHE GIGGLES

What an extraordinary place to put a bottle!

You must feel awful.

No, I don't feel too good.

Let me pick this up for you.

I don't suppose they'll dust in here for some time.

-The maid!

-What's the matter with her?

Oh, er, nothing, nothing.

It's just that, um... Well, I had a fire in my bedroom last night.

-A fire!

-Cigarette. Hole in the sheet and two blankets.

How awful for you. What will Mrs Welch say?

-Can't you do anything?

-I can't even think!

-Maybe I could help.

-Would you?

-Sure.

-Oh, if you could just look at it. It is sort of a woman's job.

-I'll try.

-Come on.

-They're not only burnt, they're torn too!

-I tried to make it look better.

I hacked it about a bit with a razor blade.

-At least it doesn't look so burnt! I could've had a nightmare and stuck my foot through it!

-Some nightmare!

To go through a sheet and two blankets!

Yeah, well, what am I going to do about it?

-All you can do is make the whole bed over with all this mess at the bottom.

-Wonderful idea.

-I'll be able to think up an excuse.

-It won't like you've burnt them.

You wouldn't put your head right down at the bottom to smoke!

What I said about your uncle, I'm afraid I got off on the wrong foot.

That's OK. Bertrand says people are over-aggressive when they feel insecure among strangers.

-Dixon!

->

-You're wanted on the phone!

->

You go, I'll finish this off.

-Dixon!

->

Well, I hope you have a satisfactory explanation about last night!

Ah, there you are, Dixon.

We were wondering what, er...what, er...happened to you last...night.

Dixon!

Excuse me, sir, telephone. Must go, sir.

Ah, Mr Dixon.

Morning.

-What happened to you last night?

-Um, I'll explain in a minute,

-after the telephone.

-We're dying to hear.

Hello.

That you, sonny boy? How's everything this morning?

Mother!

-Is that you?

-Mother?!

-What? You're really here?

Oh, and Dad, too.

Well, yes, yes, I'll come straight away.

No. No, no, of course not.

Yes. Yes, right-o, then.

Goodbye, Mother.

I'm terribly sorry, Mrs Welch, I've got to go.

My parents - quite unexpected really. So goodbye and thank you, Mrs Welch. Goodbye, all.

I'm sorry, sir. Goodbye.

DOG BARKS

£1...

£1.15/7.

Coming to breakfast, old boy?

£1.17/3 altogether. Look, how much are sheets and blankets?

Oh, stop worrying about that.

-You're like an old woman!

-But they're Welch's and I burnt 'em.

-Emigrate! Join the Army! Anything, but stop creeping round Welch for fourpence a week.

-I am not!

Look, you don't understand. I'm a teacher.

-I like the job.

-But have you got it?

Well, I...I don't know.

HE SIGHS

-But I'm going to find out.

-Good.

-I'm going to go right up to Welch...

-That's my boy.

-Right up to him.

-And I'm...

-And?

-I'm going to see if I remind him of burning bedclothes.

Keys.

Professor.

Oh, yes,

I wanted to see you.

-I haven't seen your ground plans.

-Plans?

-For the quadrangle.

-The flowers were to be rearranged. Something festive.

-But it's tomorrow. There's so little time.

-I've got to work on Merrie England.

-On Merrie England? The work has already been done.

# Oooh, lucky, lucky... #

-Looks proper artistic, dunnit?

-Not bad at all. How many more?

-Another couple of dozen, sir.

It's staggering 'em what does it. I never like to see my pots congested.

Fine. Keep at it.

-Oh, get this stuck up on the board for me, Nesbitt.

-Thank you!

PHONE RINGS

HE SIGHS

Hello, what do you want?

This is Mrs Welch speaking. I want to leave a message for... Ah, that's Mr Dixon,

'isn't it?'

I've just been looking at my sheets and blankets, Mr Dixon...

-POSH VOICE:

-Ah, there's been a mistake - there's no Mr Dixon here.

-'What number?'

-5,3,2,1, University.

Oh, that explains it. This is the United Dairies.

Oh, Dixon.

Professor Welch is complaining about bicycles being left at the main gate.

I'd see to it if I were you.

Thank you(!)

Oh, James.

-Can you tell me where to put this?

-Yes, by heaven, I can!

-Don't shout at me, James.

Oh, I'm...I'm sorry, Margaret.

-I don't know where I am - decorations, the lecture!

-I thought you might have an apology to make.

-Who to?

-Well, to me! How do you think I feel? How would any girl feel after being compromised?

Compromised? But who's been compromised?

Oh, I think you're horrible!

Don't touch me! Don't speak to me! Keep away from me, you...you fiend!

SHE SOBS

< Hey, mind those hydrangeas! Raise it up a bit!

< No, the other end, you idiot!

Oh my...!

Hey!

Not that one, for heaven's sake! Look at it!

Now get it off at that end.

Pick the ones that don't mean anything.

-And that goes for you, too!

-Sir, I thought...

-Come on, don't muck about!

-Who dreamed up this village fete idea? Sir Hector will be amused.

-No, he'll like it. It looks gay.

No!

Not hydrangeas, too!

-What's the matter with them?

-They're always pink!

That's how they grow, pink and blue.

You have blue? Well, we must have some! Great pools of blue there!

I can't do that, sir. The blue's booked for the Young Conservatives.

My good man, by that time, the ceremony will be over. Then you can come and collect your plants.

Look, sir, just tell us what you want.

And put those up in the far corner! Get it right out of here, Williams.

CHRISTINE GIGGLES

Hello.

That's Bert, one of the founder members.

-I was thinking it should be carrying an umbrella.

-He left it on the bus.

What does it mean?

Real joy is a serious matter. You can tell that by looking at him!

He was one of the original...

It always amuses me to see the efforts they made to express their psychological fears in stone.

-Is that what they were at?

-We didn't expect YOU to appreciate it.

Come, Christine, I want my lunch.

Bye.

Cheerio.

Oh, er, sign here, guv, for the flowers.

Now, the procession.

We shall assemble here and cross the quadrangle to the hall.

I shall bring up the rear with the chancellor.

Now, the ball.

-Hutchinson?

-All fixed, Principal. We have the town hall, a bar, a licence, and an extension!

-Splendid.

You've got the idea!

FANFARE

-Well. Hmm. You've certainly done us proud, Welch.

-It was the best we could do in the time available.

-Welcome, Sir Hector.

-How are you, Principal?

-Very well. May I introduce Professor Welch?

This is...

-Get round to that quadrangle quick and load up them plants.

-Right-o!

I hear that Johns has proposed some organ music for the procession.

Sir Hector, we were all...very, very disappointed,

especially my son Bertrand, who was looking...

Excuse me.

So sorry.

-Sir Hector, may I present Mr Dixon, also of the history department.

-How do you do?

Oh, my...! Excuse me, sir.

'Ere!

Quick! Get them over there!

Put them back! For crying out loud, put them back!

Where's the...?

-What the devil are you doing?

-Got to be moved, guv'nor.

-But you can't!

I think, Sir Hector, we ought to get ready for the procession.

Leave the darn things alone, can't you?! Oh, my heavens!

Get out of the way! Oi! Where do you think you're going with this lot?

Here!

You blithering idiot!

STUDENTS LAUGH AND JEER

Bertrand! That oaf! What do you want to listen to him for?!

We haven't even started the procession yet!

Put those plants back, quick! >

Back that lorry up! Joe! Charlie!

Get them bushes out of the way.

THEY LAUGH

Hey!

STUDENTS LAUGH

'Ere, let's have a go.

Go on.

LORRY STARTS UP

-Oi! Stop!

-Look out!

Stop!

STUDENTS LAUGH AND APPLAUD

CRUNCHING

'Scuse me, guv'nor!

THEY CHEER

WOLF WHISTLES AND CHEERING

That was real bad luck, chum.

I understand, sir.

CEREMONIAL SPEECH BEGINS INSIDE BUILDING

JOLLY MUSIC PLAYS

-Of course, the fellow's an absolute oaf. I don't know why Father puts up with him.

-Couldn't we dance?

What, in this mob? My dear girl.

I'm told, Sir Hector, that the mishap was of political origin.

-Young Dixon, I'll take it up with him, insisted on pink. I advised blue.

-Often the cause of dissention!

-Principal, would you forgive me for ten minutes. I promised to join my niece.

-Of course, sir.

-I'd have booted Dixon out months ago.

-Christine, there you are.

-Hello, Uncle.

-Hello.

-Good evening.

Poor Dixon. Peel's got him cornered again!

Rescue party, drink up!

It isn't your reputation that's at stake. I've made excuses for you.

I know and I'm grateful, but you're making a mountain out of a molehill.

So my reputation is a molehill, is it? Thank you, James.

Just because I had a couple and got in your room by mistake doesn't mean to say you're compromised!

-Nobody knows.

-Of course they know!

-How? Who told them?

I did!

What?!

Why? Why?

-James, after all we've been through together, how little you really understand me.

-I'm not quite sure.

SHE SOBS Oh, James, I just...

There he is! Excuse us, Miss Peel. Come on, we'll buy you a drink!

Sorry!

# For he's a jolly good fellow

# For he's a jolly good fellow

# For he's a jolly good fellow

# And so say all of us! #

CHEERING He seems rather popular, don't you think?

In one sense, my novel might be considered to be an adventure piece,

but there are deep psychological implications...

Three cheers for good old Dixon! ALL: Hip-hip hooray! Hip-hip hooray! Hip-hip hooray!

-One can scarcely hear oneself talk.

-They're enjoying themselves.

-Quite.

-As I was saying, the psychological implications...

-Excuse me. Dixon!

Dixon! Do you care to come and join us?

Oh, um... Excuse me.

-Oh, thank you very much, sir.

-Sit down, old chap.

-You know my niece and Mr Welch.

-Hello.

-Well, this is very kind of you, sir.

-As I was saying! At the end of the book, I reach the conclusion...

-You ought to send it to a publisher.

-I was rather hoping that you...

-Don't you want to dance?

-I'd much rather talk.

-I'd much rather dance! Will you dance with me?

Yes.

Of course.

-Would you excuse us, Sir Hector.

-Certainly.

Welch, I'm going to need a brandy.

-A br...? Oh, oh, yes, sir. I'll get it myself. It may be one of the cruder blends.

-That's all right.

-Oh!

-I think we'd better sit down, Christine.

-Perhaps if you held me a bit closer.

-I'll try.

It's a bit ambitious really.

There. You see?

SHE GIGGLES

-Are you staying till the very end?

-Good Lord, no.

-I was going, but...

-I was thinking of going. Bertrand wants to talk to my uncle and I'm rather in the way.

Oh, if you were going, couldn't I take you home?

-You don't have to.

-I'd love to. I'll see you outside in five minutes.

-Fine. I'll go and tell Bertrand.

-Right. I'll see you outside!

Taxi!

-How far are you going?

-Larchfield Common.

-At this hour of the night?

-What's the difference?

-It's three mile.

-It's your job to drive people where they want to go.

-Don't try to teach me my job!

-Anyway, I'm booked.

-Booked? Well, um...who by?

-The Principal.

-I AM the Principal.

-Yes, you look like him(!)

-Ah, there you are.

-OK, but don't try to teach me my job, wack!

-What did Bertrand say?

-He wasn't there, I left a message with Uncle.

-Do you want Christine, Bertrand?

-No, Sir Hector.

-Oh, well, when you do, she's gone, slipped away...

-with Dixon.

-Thanks.

What's that?

THEY LAUGH

-It's funny how he ceded to talk to you. May I ask you a question?

-Do.

-How old do you think I am?

-Oh, about, um...24.

-That's just the trouble.

-Oh?

I won't be 20 until next birthday. I only seem to be old.

-It makes things awfully difficult.

-Difficult?

Well, in, um...what way?

All the men I go out with seem to think I'm older than I really am. It's such a nuisance.

-How do you mean?

-It's so difficult if you don't want to be seduced.

JIM SNIGGERS

Oh, yes, I see(!)

-That's one of the things I like about Bertrand.

-Bertrand?!

-Yes, he hasn't tried to seduce me once!

That's why you like him, because he hasn't tried to make love to you?

-Well, no, there's more to it than that.

-There'll need to be. What else?

He's so intelligent. He knows so much about people and how they feel about...things.

-Does he know how you feel about "things"?

-I'm not sure.

But then I'm not really sure myself.

-Anyway, Bertrand says that's only natural at the beginning.

-The beginning of what?

-Of becoming adult. If I'm going to marry Bertrand, I realise...

-Marry?! Are you in love with him?

-Why use that word?

-Why not?

-I'm not sure I know what it means.

-You must have come across it!

-Does he send you to the dictionary every time?!

-You're exaggerating!

It's simple. You know if you like greengages or not, you know if you're in love with Bertrand or not.

It isn't as easy as that. You can change about people but you can always be sure about greengages.

-All right, what about rhubarb?

-CAR BRAKES

Excuse me.

-This is it.

-Oh.

-I'm afraid I forgot to ask for a key.

-Would you mind coming with me in case I can't get in?

-All right.

You'd better wait.

You won't be long.

Oh, it is open.

I'll, er, put the light on for you.

Have some cocoa.

I don't want any cocoa.

-When am I going to see you again, Christine?

-I don't know.

What about some supper after the lecture tomorrow night?

-I-I don't think I can do that.

-Why not?

It's too complicated.

Well, what about coffee tomorrow morning?

Where?

-Central Hotel, 11.30.

-TAXI HORN BEEPS

All right, I'll try. You must go.

Night, Christine.

And the next thing I know, my dear chap, she's in my arms.

-Her head comes up to about here.

-Are you going to do something about it.

-We're having coffee this morning.

-How's your lecture coming along?

-All wrapped up and ready to go! Listen.

Now then, where are we? Here.

"And so, let each and every one of us speak out fearlessly in the cause of rustic culture.

"In this way, we will keep a garden in our hearts that is for ever Merrie England."

You're going to keep a garden in your heart?

-Does it mean anything?

-Not a perishing thing!

"Keep a garden in your heart"?! They'll chuck chairs at you!

Oh, hello.

I'm sorry I'm late, Christine,

but, er, well, I got a bit held up.

How are you?

-(Fine.)

-Good.

Like some coffee? Waiter, two coffees, please.

-You're not nervous being here with me, are you?

-No.

Well, er, everything all right at the Welch's?

Yes.

No trouble about last night?

No.

-At least...

-Yes?

-Jim...

Yes, Christine.

Thank you!

Well?

-What?

-You were just going to tell me something.

Oh, it doesn't matter.

-Look, have a cigarette.

-No. Thank you.

Bertrand's been unpleasant, has he?

Not only Bertrand, all of them.

-They made me feel...mean.

-They're pretty good at that.

Christine, is that what's upset you?

-I mean, not what happened last night?

-Yes, it was, partly.

Partly?

Christine, I mean...

-Didn't you like what happened?

-Yes. I mean, I did at the time.

-Now I...I don't think I should have come here this morning.

-What's wrong with having coffee?

-Or rather, not having coffee.

-It's not that.

What is it, then? Can't you tell me?

I just make trouble for everyone. I just make them unhappy.

Oh, for Pete's sake!

Look...Christine, you've made me happier than I've been for months.

That's just it, I was sort of settled with Bertrand till you came along.

Now I... Jim, I've decided what I'm going to do.

-Oh? What's that?

-I'm going to give up men.

WHAT?!

What?

For a few years, anyway. I don't really think I'm old enough for this sort of thing.

Do stop worrying about your age.

-I've got to worry about it! Nobody else does.

-You're not going.

-I shouldn't have come.

-Are we going to see each other again?

-It's better that we don't.

-I shall be coming to the lecture.

-Lovely(!) Grand(!)

-I'm sorry. I'm sure I'm doing the right thing.

-Goodbye.

-This is ridiculous.

Christine!

-My change.

-Change?

-Yes, I gave you two bob.

-Coffee's 1/6.

-That's right.

Most gentlemen give me a tip.

Most gentlemen would give you a kick up the...!

-What are you going to do?

-I'm going to tell Welch where he gets off!

It's quite out of the question.

-We can't start chopping...and changing everything just because...

-I just want to give my own lecture.

You are undermining my, er... my, er...

Going off in the middle of the ball! How can I explain that to Mrs Welch?

Or the disgrace you made of the, er, procession?

-But Mrs Welch...

-Mrs Welch has nothing to do with it!

I can't be expected to suffer... My wife says not only the sheet, but two blankets as well!

-I should have apologised before, sir.

-Please keep to the point!

You are representing me, Dixon, the history department. There's the question of your contract.

Ooh, I was something of a rebel myself at your age.

-Youth must give place to...

-Yes, sir.

Good. I'm very glad we've had this little talk. I'm always behind you, Dixon. Don't forget that.

No, sir, I won't.

-It's all there in the manuscript I gave you. Merrie England.

-PHONE RINGS

History speaking.

Ah! Here you are, Dixon.

-Go away!

-Now, listen, you stinker...

-Buzz off! I've got my lecture to...

-Damn your lecture! About Christine.

-She's only a child. You ought to know better. I'm not having it, Dixon.

-You've already had it!

-Precisely the attitude one expects. Amongst decent people, Dixon, there's a code.

-Put a sock in it!

-When...

-When a young girl becomes emotionally involved...

-With you?!

-Definitely.

-Has she told you?

-I'm here to teach you manners, not answer questions!

-Some other time!

-Why, you dirty little grammar-school pipsqueak!

-Put up your fists!

-Melodramatic tripe! People stopped saying that when button-boots went out!

-Father!

Right! You've asked for it.

Right. ..Ooh!

Perhaps that'll teach you a lesson!

JIM LAUGHS, KETTLE WHISTLES

DOG BARKS

Get down, blast you!

-Have I come at a bad time, old boy?

-Not at all. Mr Welch is just going.

Boadicea, stop it! You won't get away with this, Dixon.

Not with me, you won't. Better start looking for another job.

Oh...fall down the stairs!

Come on.

Well! What was all that about?

-Christine.

-Oh, jolly good.

-There.

-Cheers.

-Cheers.

-What about Christine?

-She's given up men.

-What's she going in for now?

-Why are we having a party?

-Tune you up for the lecture.

-I'm back up the creek with Merrie England. Look!

Nice! You're on in four hours' time.

-Oh!

-Take a couple of these pills, old boy. They give you confidence. I use them for selling pre-war cars.

I say! That eye is going to be a beauty.

Tell you what - if you get stuck, I'll create a diversion. I'll faint.

-If you want me to, scratch your ear - like this.

-Don't be a clot!

-Better shove this on your eye.

-Ooh!

-Dinner jacket?

-Yes.

-Got a shirt?

-Yes.

-Good. Mine's filthy.

Given up men(?) She doesn't know what's good for her!

I've made up my mind, Bertrand.

My dear girl, by renouncing mankind, you can't possibly expect to solve your problems.

Though I must say, it shows a familiar defence mechanism. We'll talk about that later.

Look after her for me, will you? She's quite domesticated.

Thank you!

Merrie England - a subject I have studied over a period of many years.

-Chancellor, we're due on the platform in five minutes.

-Excuse me.

-Welch, I'm looking forward to this lecture of Dixon's.

-Hmm!

-SPLASHING

-Ah! Dixon!

-Oh! Good evening, sir.

-Nervous?

-A bit, sir.

-Take a good pull at this.

-Well...

-Go on!

-Thank you very much, sir.

-Feel better?

-Much, thank you, sir. As a matter of fact, I've already taken some pills to pep me up.

You have? Good Lord! Perhaps you oughtn't to have taken this.

-Pep pills and alcohol can make you drunk pretty quickly.

-I'm feeling all right, thanks, sir.

-Nasty eye.

-Yes, sir.

-You don't seem to have much luck, Dixon.

-Oh, I dunno, sir.

-Where did you go to school?

-Local grammar school, sir.

-How long have you been in this game?

-Nine months.

-Happy?

-Not particularly.

-Where's the trouble - in you or the job?

Oh, both, I daresay. I waste their time, and they waste mine.

-You think teaching history is a waste of time?

-On the contrary, sir.

Well taught, it can do people a lot of good. Bad teaching's the trouble.

-I see. Well, Dixon, tonight you can show us how it's done.

-Afraid not, sir.

-Oh?

-The lecture isn't mine. It's Professor Welch's.

-Welch's?

-Yes.

By agreeing to give his, I may have saved myself from getting the sack.

-Really?

-I'm afraid you're in for a boring evening, sir.

-It's all right. I suffer hours of boredom every day.

-A couple more won't break my back.

-Why do you stand for it, sir? You can afford not to.

I'm afraid that's a question I haven't time to answer now. You're the star tonight, Dixon. Good luck.

Thank you, sir.

Star!

HICCUPS

# Ooh, lucky! #

APPLAUSE

All right, Welch?

-CLEARS THROAT

-Er, Chancellor, my Lord Mayor, ladies and gentlemen.

It is my happy duty to announce

that, er, er, Professor Bryant's lec... That although Professor Bryant cannot be with us tonight,

the History Memorial Lecture will be delivered by a member of my department.

It is natural, therefore, that he should have chosen for his subject

er, my, um...

That he should have chosen Merrie England.

Ladies and gentlemen, Mr Dixon.

LAUGHTER

AUDIENCE GASPS AND TITTERS

Pretty!

(Start, Dixon! Start!)

-(It is...)

-CLEARS THROAT

-SLURRING:

-It is a truism

that the character of an age

can best be defined in terms of its art.

(What's the matter, Dixon? Go on.)

Sorry, sir. A bit nervous.

-SLURRING EVEN MORE:

-How better, then, can we reveal

the happy, carefree spirit of the Middle Ages than through its music?

And, in particular,

in the structure of the Tudor mad-rigal.

TITTERING

Ssh! Ssh!

It...

..would not be going too far to say

that the madrigal, in its purest form,

may be...in its purest form,

may be taken to represent the highest ideals of democracy.

As a 'stinguished scholar...

PEALS OF LAUGHTER

..distinguished scholar... Thank you very much, sir. Thank you.

..as a distinguished scholar has observed,

and happily he is with us here tonight...

.."While each strand in the marvellous web of polyphony

"is a thing of beauty and delight,

"the total effect to the outside listener

"may always seem to be less... less than the sum of its parts.

The fellow's an absolute fool!

(Get on with it, Dixon! Stop wasting time!)

How clear the implications are...

-This was performers' music...

-GROWLING

Everybody sang, everybody -

scullions and serving wenches, they sang.

The lords and their ladies, they sang. And the children sang.

And the archers sang,

and the bowmen, and the yeomen, they sang.

There are cynics, of course, who will decry the moral influence of the lute.

WHIMPERING

THEY JEER

(Well, Dixon, continue. ..Dixon!

("It is not without significance...")

It is not without, er, significance

that the arts...the arts included

stained glass music...

..stained musical glass,

and arti-checture...

-especially a class-ecclesical architecture.

-HICCUPS

(He's drunk!)

Such were the simple joys of olden times.

One wonders what the good citizens of that happy era would have thought of the effusions

of the radio, the cinema,

and television.

"One wonders"? Well, who wonders?

I don't wonder! Do YOU wonder?

NO-O!

-What do you think you're doing, Dixon?

-What do I think I'm doing? That's a good one! Ha-ha-ha-ha!

I'll tell you what I'm doing! Henry Ford said, "History is bunk!"

-Well, if the stuff I've just dished out to you is history, Henry Ford was right!

-Hurray!

Aagh!

Shut up! Don't worry about him, he's faking. Get up, Bill! I'm all right.

Merrie England?! Lutes and flutes and chase-me-round-the-maypole?!

Phoney baloney! It never was merrie! It was murder.

Poverty, starvation, ignorance, tyranny, bloodshed - the lot!

But the boys that feed you that soft-centred slop about the good old days, they don't want to know!

They can't take it! Facts are too nasty for them. Can't bear reality - cover it up, that's their motto.

Well, don't you do it. Just take a look at the facts - they're all around you. Don't be afraid of them.

They won't bite. They may nibble a bit, but you bite 'em back!

(What do you think you're doing?!)

There was another thing, too...

LOUD CHEERING

CHANTING: Good old Dixon! Good old Dixon!

Good old Dixon! Good old Dixon!

Good old Dixon!

Good old Dixon! Good old Dixon...!

BELLS CHIME

Perhaps it was all a little unfair. Only one of you against so many of us. Goodbye, Dixon.

Goodbye, sir. Thank you.

Oh, Dixon!

-In my day, we found Nelson's Blood was a help.

-Sir?

Rum and strong ale - pulls you together.

Would aspirin do any good?

No. Nothing less than a guillotine.

What a farewell! How do you feel as a retired junior lecturer?

Oh! When I can feel anything, I think I'm going to feel fine.

Like getting out of jail! Ooh!

-That's where we dropped you, old boy.

-Mmm?

-Getting you upstairs.

-Well, what are you going to do?

-Look for another job, I suppose.

I'm free, very ill and only 24.

Well, what else?

Ah!

Merrie ruddy England! Now, where are those sheets?

Coming up.

Right. Now for the Welches.

PHONE RINGS

Yes? ..Speaking.

..Who?

Oh! Oh, good morning, sir.

Yes, I'm afraid so, sir.

Have you got anything in view? Would you care to come and see me at my London office next week?

Oh, I would, sir. Thank you very much, sir.

..Thank you very much, sir. Goodbye, sir.

Johns, there's a call for you.

-Who is it?

-The Principal. They're fetching him. You have to hold on.

Hello?

Well, good luck, old boy.

-Thanks, Bill. So long.

-So long.

Hello?

RINGS DOORBELL

Well?

Ah! Good morning, Mrs Welch. I owe you a sheet and two blankets.

-Hope you like the colour - white.

-Dixon! Where have you been? I was phoning.

-I had to see the principal.

-Nonsense. You only see the principal through me.

-This was urgent.

-You saw him over my head?

-You weren't there.

-You have the impertinence to come here...

-Please, let me deal with it.

-I'll see you in my rooms...

-Sorry, it's impossible.

-You've a nerve!

-Let me handle this. Dixon's a member of my staff...

-But I'm not.

-What?

-Your staff. I've resigned.

-Rubbish! It's not the end of term.

-Your contract...

-Stick it up your jumper!

-I beg your pardon, Mrs Welch.

-Neddy, Bertrand, are you going to allow...?

-No, I'm not! Look here, Dixon...

-One at a time, please.

Mrs Welch, you've got your sheets. No need for thanks.

Here's Merrie England. It had me in fits. Get Johns to set it to music. Oh, and razor blades for Junior.

-If you don't get out of here, I'll...I'll...

-Well, go on.

-I'll give you the biggest...

-Bertrand!

-Listen to me...

THEY SHOUT OVER EACH OTHER

Quiet!

-Now, I'd like to speak to Christine.

-Oh, would you?

-Ah, James!

-Look, I was just going. I came to say goodbye.

-Goodbye?

-Yes, I'm leaving, but I've got to see Christine.

-Well, you won't.

-Oh, won't I? Christine!

-James, stop behaving like an idiot. She's gone.

On the 11.15. So you may as well calm down and listen to me.

I think we ought to go somewhere quiet and talk this over calmly. The last time we were together...

James!

James!

James!

-Who's there?

-It's Dixon! He's stolen the car!

-Dixon's stolen the car!

-Well, stop him!

-How?

-I'll catch him!

-Get the police.

-Too late. Margaret, is this yours? Can I borrow it?

-Yes. I'll ring for the police.

-He'll make straight for the station.

-The station, quick!

Blasted thing!

Mad! Ought to be locked up.

-Mother must have taken the short cut.

-The what?

-The short cut - across the stile.

-Never get a car over there!

-Not Dixon! Mother!

-Other what?

BANG!

TRAIN WHISTLES

Single to London, quick!

-It's a disgrace!

-What does it mean?

BLOWS WHISTLE

Open her up! Come on! Quick! Sharpish! All right, throw her in!

# Oh, Lucky Jim

# How I envy him

# Oh, Lucky Jim

# How I envy

# How I envy him!

# Oh, Lucky Jim

# How...I envy him! #

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd