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Jeeves and Wooster

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Jeeves and Wooster (1990-1993) was a British television series adapted by Clive Exton from P. G. Wodehouse's Jeeves stories. It starred Hugh Laurie as the artless Bertie Wooster and Stephen Fry as his miraculously capable valet Jeeves.

Season 1

[edit]

Jeeves Takes Over [1.1]

[edit]
[his first line]
Jeeves: I was sent by the agency, sir. I was given to understand that you required a valet.

Eustace Wooster: Now, touching at lunch, you very decently were going to volunteer to stand us...
Bertie Wooster: Can’t be done, I’m afraid. I’ve got to have lunch with our Aunt Agatha.
Eustace Wooster: Oh... not the nephew-crusher.

Aunt Agatha: Bertie.
Bertie Wooster: Aunt Agatha.
Aunt Agatha: It is young men like you who make a person with the future of the race at heart despair.
Bertie Wooster: Oh. Right.

Bertie Wooster: Jeeves, I have to make one thing crystal clear.
Jeeves: Yes, sir?
Bertie Wooster: I am not one of those fellows who become absolute slaves to their valets.
Jeeves: [as if shocked] No, sir.
Bertie Wooster: Just as long as we understand each other.
Jeeves: Perfectly, sir.

Lady Glossop: Do you work, Mr. Wooster?
Bertie Wooster: What, work? As in honest toil, you mean? Hewing the wood and drawing the old wet stuff and so forth?
Lady Glossop: Quite.
Bertie Wooster: Well... I've known a few people who worked. Absolutely swear by it, some of them.

Bertie Wooster: You bally well are informed, Jeeves! Do you know everything?
Jeeves: [hesitates] I really don't know, sir.

Tuppy and the Terrier [1.2]

[edit]
Jeeves: Pardon me for asking, sir, but are you proposing to appear in public in those garments?
Bertie Wooster: Well, certainly, Jeeves. What — a bit vivid, do you think?
Jeeves: Not necessarily, sir. I am told that Mr. Freddie "He's a Riot" Flowerdew often appears on the music-hall stage in comparable attire.

Bertie Wooster: [having just finished playing "Forty-Seven Ginger-Headed Sailors"] Really speaks to me, that song, you know, Jeeves.
Jeeves: I'm sorry to hear that, sir.

Bertie Wooster: I can be chilled steel, you know!

Bobbie Wickham: Mr. Blumenfield's a fearfully important Broadway producer. I've got to read Mummy's play to him after lunch. I can't read to him in a restaurant.
Bertie Wooster: Yes, but why does he want jam roly-poly and oysters?
Bobbie Wickham: Oh, he doesn't. That's for his son. Apparently Mr. Blumenfield always banks on his verdict. He says an eight-year-old child's intelligence is exactly equal to a Broadway audience's.

Tuppy: Guess what? I'm going to the opera tonight.
Bertie Wooster: Opera, Tuppy?
Tuppy: Cora's singing in the, um, Barber of Figaro.
Bertie Wooster: Is that the one about the pyramids?
Barmy: Sounds like it, by the name.
Tuppy: I've never been to the opera before. Would you like to come with me, Bertie?
Bertie Wooster: Ahh, well…. [They eventually see Le nozze di Figaro, a k a The Marriage of Figaro.]

Bertie Wooster: Tell me, Jeeves, were you always like this, or did it come on suddenly?
Jeeves: Sir?
Bertie Wooster: The brain, the gray matter. Were you an outstandingly brilliant child?
Jeeves: My mother thought me intelligent, sir.
Bertie: Well, can't go by that. My mother thought me intelligent.

The Purity of the Turf [1.3]

[edit]
Bertie Wooster: [about the song "Good Night, Vienna"] I mean, fancy writing a song about saying good night to a whole city. I mean, you may as well say, "Good Afternoon, Manchester" or "Fancy Bumping Into You, Basingstoke."
Jeeves: Yes, sir.
Bertie Wooster: Or "I Didn't See You at the Club Last Night, Cleethorpes."

Rupert Steggles: I'm going inside. This fresh air is getting into my lungs.

Bertie Wooster: You look positively animated, Jeeves!
Jeeves: [straightening his jacket] I'm sorry, sir.

Jeeves: The boy is a flyer, sir.
Bertie Wooster: How do you know?
Jeeves: I happened to be pursuing him this morning with a view to fetching him a clip on the side of the head.
Bertie Wooster: Great Scott, Jeeves! You?
Jeeves: The lad is of an outspoken disposition, sir, and had made an opprobrious remark respecting my appearance.
Bertie Wooster: What did he say about your appearance?
Jeeves: [coldly] I do not recall, sir. But it was opprobrious.

Bertie Wooster: You know what Kipling said. The f. of the s. is much more d. than the m.

The Hunger Strike [1.4]

[edit]
Jeeves: [waking him up] Good morning, Mr. Wooster.
Bertie Wooster: What? What's the time?
Jeeves: Ten past nine, sir.
Bertie Wooster: [irritated] Ten past nine!? Is the building on fire?
Jeeves: Not that I've been informed, sir, no.

Bertie Wooster: I can't understand Gussie Fink-Nottle being in London, Jeeves. Till now he's always remained glued to the country, completely surrounded by newts.
Jeeves: Sir?
Bertie Wooster: [speaking to doorman] Morning, Jarvis. [turning again to Jeeves] Newts. You know, Jeeves, those little lizard-y things that charge about in ponds.
Jeeves: Ah, yes, sir. The aquatic members of the family Salamandridae that constitute the genus Molge.
Bertie Wooster: Yes, they're the chaps.

[about Gussie's reported romantic interest in Madeline Bassett]
Bertie Wooster: Well, I must confess, Jeeves, that until you supplied this information, I had definite doubts about Gussie's chances. But now, hope begins to dawn. He's just the sort of chap that Madeline Bassett might scoop up with a spoon.
Jeeves: This is indeed good news, sir.
Bertie Wooster: I wouldn't go so far as to say she actually writes poetry, but when a girl suddenly asks you out of a clear blue sky if you don't think that the stars are "God's daisy chain," well, I mean, you do begin to wonder, Jeeves.
Jeeves: [clears throat] Indeed, sir.

[about the white mess jacket]
Jeeves: I assumed it had got into your wardrobe by mistake, sir, or else that it has been placed there by your enemies.
Bertie Wooster: I will have you know, Jeeves, that I bought this in Cannes!
Jeeves: And wore it, sir?
Bertie Wooster: Every night at the Casino. Beautiful women used to try and catch my eye!
Jeeves: Presumably they thought you were a waiter, sir.

Bertie Wooster: Aunt calling to aunt like mastodons bellowing across primeval swamps.

Bertie Wooster: Tuppy, old man!
Tuppy Glossop: It's no good saying "Tuppy, old man"!
Bertie Wooster: Well, I do say "Tuppy, old man"! One is... one is shocked; one raises the eyebrows! Where is the fine old chivalrous spirit of the Glossops?
Tuppy: Well, where is the sweet, gentle, womanly spirit of the Angelas? Telling a chap he's getting a double chin!
Bertie Wooster: Now be fair, Tuppy. Remember the time you told her that new hat made her look like a Pekinese?
Tuppy: Yes, well. Did make her look like a Pekinese. But that wasn't vulgar abuse, just sound, constructive criticism.
[Bertie rolls his eyes]

Bertie Wooster: Tut!
Aunt Dahlia: What did you say?
Bertie Wooster: I said "tut!"
Aunt Dahlia: Say it again and I'll biff you where you stand. I have enough to endure without being tutted at.
Bertie Wooster: Well, quite.
Aunt Dahlia: Any tutting that's required, I'll attend to myself.

Madeline Bassett: Oh, Bertie, what a beautiful night!
Bertie Wooster: [humouring her] Rather!
Madeline: All the flowers have closed their eyes....
Bertie Wooster: Really?
Madeline: And all the little stars have woken up. [sees rabbits in the garden, not comprehending that they're only pottery figures] Oh, look! The little bunnies — how still they are!
Bertie Wooster: Yes, yes, they are marvellously still, aren't they? Yes....

[following Gussie's utter failure to make a good impression with Madeline Bassett]
Bertie Wooster: But how could anything go wrong? All he had to do was… propose.
Jeeves: So one would be disposed to imagine, sir. However, upon finding himself alone with the young lady, he confesses to having lost his nerve. In such circumstances, gentlemen frequently talk at random, sir, saying the first thing that chances to enter their head. This, in Mr. Fink-Nottle's case, would seem to have been the newt: its treatment in sickness and in health.
Bertie Wooster: Bad, Jeeves.
Jeeves: Yes, sir.
Bertie Wooster: And how long did he go on talking about newts?
Jeeves: According to Mr. Fink-Nottle, he supplied Miss Bassett with very full and complete information, sir.
Bertie Wooster: Very bad, Jeeves.
Jeeves: Indeed, sir.

Brinkley Manor [1.5]

[edit]

[Barmy answers Bertie's telephone, pretending to be Jeeves]

Barmy Fotheringay-Phipps: Mr. Wooster's residence... Where is Mr. Wooster? (Bertie shakes his head and waves his hand at him) He's not at home, sir... I'm Jeeves... What do you mean, "you think not?"... Oh! (he hangs up)
Bertie Wooster: Well, who was it?
Barmy Fotheringay-Phipps: Jeeves.

Bertie Wooster: Well, I don't think I'm going too far, Jeeves, when I say that this just about takes the giddy biscuit!

Jeeves: We have a duty to look after our ladies and gentlemen, Monsieur Anatole.
Monsieur Anatole: Look after?! Am I the nursie?! Am I the nursie for the kiddies?! No, this is not kiddies, no no no no no. Kiddies is nice. Kiddies is not stopping with the eats. Kiddies is not saying to other chap, "Poof! We not like you no more! We not eat your comestibles!"
Jeeves: Since time immemorial, Monsieur Anatole, it has fallen to the Gallic races to bring civilization to the rude northerly provinces of their empire.
Monsieur Anatole: Mmm-mm, is true. Anatole is civilian. Anatole is nice.
Jeeves: It hasn't always been easy; sometimes it has seemed impossible. But...

Bertie Wooster: I was standing on Eden-Roc in Antibes last month, and a girl I know slightly pointed to this fellow diving into the water and asked me if I didn't think that his legs were about the silliest-looking pair of props ever issued to a human being. Well, I agreed that indeed they were and, for perhaps a couple of minutes, I was extraordinarily witty and satirical about this bird's underpinnings. And guess what happened next.
Jeeves: I am agog to learn, sir.
Bertie Wooster: A cyclone is what happened next, Jeeves, emanating from this girl. She started on my own legs, saying that they weren't much to write home about, and then she moved on to dissect my manners, morals, intellect, general physique and method of eating asparagus. By the time she'd finished, the best that could be said about poor old Bertram was that, so far as was known, he hadn't actually burnt down an orphanage.
Jeeves: A most illuminating story, sir.
Bertie Wooster: No, no, no, no, no, Jeeves, Jeeves, you haven't had the payoff yet!
Jeeves: Oh, I'm so sorry, sir! The structure of your tale deceived me, for a moment, into thinking that it was over.
Bertie Wooster: No, no, no, the point is that she was actually engaged to this fellow with the legs. They'd had some minor disagreement the night before, but there they were the following night, dining together, their differences made up and the love light once more in their eyes. And I expect much the same results with my cousin Angela.
Jeeves: I look forward to it with lively anticipation, sir.

[Bertie is trying to convince a furious Tuppy Glossop that he's had no romantic intentions toward Angela Travers]
Bertie Wooster: During that sojourn in Cannes, my affections were engaged elsewhere.
Tuppy Glossop: What?
Bertie Wooster: My affections. Engaged elsewhere, during that sojourn.
Tuppy: [angrily] Well, who was she?
Bertie Wooster: My dear Tuppy, does one bandy a woman's name?
Tuppy: One does if one doesn't want one's ruddy head pulled off! [approaches menacingly]
Bertie Wooster: Well, yes, right, yes, well, obviously this is a...a special case. Madeline Bassett.
Tuppy: [astonished] You're in love with that weird Gawd-help-us Bassett!?
Bertie Wooster: Well, I don't think you should call her a weird Gawd-help-us, Tuppy. Odd in some of her views, perhaps. One does not quite see eye-to-eye with her in the matter of stars and bunny rabbits. But not a weird Gawd-help-us.
Tuppy: And you stick to it that you're in love with her?
Bertie Wooster: It is not twenty-four hours since she turned me down.
Tuppy Glossop: Turned you down?
Bertie Wooster: Like a bedspread. In this very garden. So, you'll see, I can't be the chap, if any, who stole Angela from you in Cannes.
Tuppy Glossop: Well, because your affections were engaged elsewhere...
Bertie Wooster: During that sojourn.
Tuppy: Hmm, I see. All right then. Sorry to have troubled you.

Gussie Fink-Nottle: So, you've won the Scripture Knowledge prize, have you, G.G. Simmons?
G.G. Simmons: Sir, yes, sir.
Gussie Fink-Nottle: Yes, you look just the sort of little tick who would.

Bertie Wooster: So! It appears that you've gone and got engaged to the Gussie.
Angela Travers: Quite right. We're in love.
Bertie Wooster: Oh, come now, Angela. Gussie's... Gussie's a splendid chap in many ways. If you've got a sick newt on your hands, well, Gussie's just the fellow to tell you what to do until the doctor comes. But honestly, old thing, you could fling bricks by the half-hour in England's most densely populated districts without hitting one girl willing to become Mrs. Fink-Nottle without a general anesthetic.
Angela Travers: Well, I thought it would be fun!
Bertie Wooster: Well, I'm surprised at you, young Angela. No wonder they say, "Oh, woman, woman!"
Angela Travers: Who do?
Bertie Wooster: ...Well, chaps, supposedly. You know you're potty about Tuppy!
Angela Travers: For goodness's sake, Bertie, go away and boil your head!
Bertie Wooster: Well, now, Angela, if you'll permit me to observe…!
Angela Travers: No!
Bertie Wooster: Very well, then. I shall say no more. [gets up to leave, then pauses in the doorway] Just... tinkety-tonk!

Jeeves: Gentlemen who are discarded by one young lady are apt to attach themselves without delay to another, sir. It is what is known as a gesture. My uncle George...
Bertie Wooster: Oh, never mind your uncle George, Jeeves.
Jeeves: No, sir.
Bertie Wooster: Save him for the long winter evenings, eh?
Jeeves: Just as you say, sir.

Jeeves: I hope you won't take it amiss, sir, but I've been giving some attention to what might be called the "amatory entanglements" at Brinkley. It seems to me that drastic measures may be called for.
Bertie Wooster: [sighs audibly] Drastic away, Jeeves. The prospect of being united for life with a woman who talks about "little baby bunnies" fills me with an unnamed dread.

Season 2

[edit]

Jeeves Saves the Cow Creamer [2.1]

[edit]
Aunt Dahlia: Your uncle Tom thinks it's the cat's nightwear.

Jeeves: Good morning, Mrs. Travers. Mr. Wooster asked me to say that he has gone to Switzerland.
Aunt Dahlia: Oh, piffle, Jeeves, get the blighter out of bed.
Jeeves: Very good, madam. [goes into Bertie's bedroom] Mrs. Travers, sir.
Bertie Wooster: But, I thought I told you —
Jeeves: I'm afraid she seemed disinclined to believe me, sir.

Sir Watkyn Bassett: I don't care how spiritual Harold Pinker is, Madeline. I'm Stephie's guardian.
Madeline Bassett: You know he played cricket for Oxford?
Sir Watkyn Bassett: I don't care if he played tiddlywinks for the Sorbonne.

[a telegram comes while Bertie is in the bathtub]
Bertie Wooster: You'd better read it, Jeeves.
Jeeves: Very good, sir. [clears throat] "Come immediately. Serious rift Madeline and self. Unless you come earliest possible moment prepared lend every effort reconciliation wedding will be broken off. Reply. Gussie," sir.
Bertie Wooster: Ah, well, these are deep waters, Jeeves! There's only one thing we can say with any certainty, and that is that Gussie has made an ass of himself again.
Jeeves: There is that possibility, sir.
Bertie Wooster: Have you got your telegraph pad handy?
Jeeves: Yes, sir.
Bertie Wooster: Right. Well, send this. "Fink-Nottle, Totleigh Towers, Totleigh-in-the-Wold, Gloucestershire. Yes that's all very well. You say come here immediately but how dickens can I? Relations between Pop Bassett and self not such as to make him welcome Bertram. Would hurl out on ear and set dogs on. What serious rift? Why serious rift? Why dickens? What have you been doing to the girl? Reply. Bertie." [squeezes rubber duck]

Bertie dictates a telegram to a post office employee
Bertie: To Aunt Dahlia. Erm ... I say — look here, this is absolutely impossible. Er ... not to say, out of the question. Spode has already threatened yours truly. Uh ... sorry, and all that ... oh — about the cow creamer, I mean. Anyway, there it is. Toodle-pip, your affectionate nephew, Bertie.
Post office employee: Is it a code?

Stiffy's dog attacks a police constable, who falls off his bike into a pond
Stiffy Byng: [to the constable] What on earth did you do that for? You might've scared him out of his wits, hurling yourself about like that. [addressing the dog] Poor old Bartholomew!
PC Oates: We must caution you, Miss Stephanie!
Stiffy: [talking to dog] Did the ugly man nearly squash him flat?
Oates: I was proceeding along a public highway when the dog leaped at me in a violent manner. I was hurled from my bicycle —
Stiffy: Well you shouldn't ride a bicycle. Bartholomew hates bicycles.
PC Oates: I ride a bicycle, Miss, because if I didn't, I would have to cover my beat on foot!
Stiffy: Do you good! Get some of the fat off you.
[Bertie, in the background, hits his face with his palm]
PC Oates: I will have to summons you once more, miss, for being in possession of a savage dog whilst not under proper control.
Stiffy: Don't be an ass, Oates. You can't expect a dog to pass up a policeman on a bicycle! It isn't human nature.

Bertie: Stinker! Good heavens!
[they shake hands cordially]
Stinker: Bertie! Well, well, well!
Bertie: I always wondered what became of you!
Stinker: I was wondering only the other day what had happened to you. Good heavens!
Bertie: Well, well, well!
Stinker: Extraordinary thing!
Bertie: And here you are!
Stinker: Well, well, well!
Bertie: Absolutely amazing. Good heavens.
Stiffy: Er — is that the end?

Stiffy Byng: Bertie, I think you're a pig!
Bertie Wooster: A pig, maybe. But a shrewd, level-headed pig. A pig who was not born yesterday and has seen a thing or two.

Bertie: One has tried, one has failed! One can do no more.
Dahlia: Don't you try that "dying duck in a thunderstorm" stuff on me, young Bertie. You will get that cow creamer.
Bertie: No — no, you don't understand, Aunt Dahlia. I have tried! I've been threatened with a shotgun, and Roderick Spode says that if I try again, he will beat me to a jelly.
Dahlia: Yes? Go on.
Bertie: What do you mean "yes, go on"? You wouldn't want your favorite nephew to be beaten to a jelly, now would you?
Dahlia: Might be an improvement.

[at the Junior Ganymede Club for gentlemen's gentlemen]
Valet #1: Of course, one can't get proper gentlemen nowadays.
[the others murmur in agreement]
Valet #2: They're not what they were, certainly. The one I've got at the moment insists on calling me by my first name!
Valet #1: Well, one tries to be tactful, of course, but one is simply swimming against the tide. I blame their parents. How's yours now, Jeeves?
Jeeves: Oh, really quite promising. I always suspected I could make something of him, and such is proving to be the case.
Valet at the head of the table: But you want to see the book, don't you?
Jeeves: I'm not considering another gentleman. This is quite another matter.
Valet at the head of the table: The book for Mr. Jeeves, if you please.
Valet #3: Well, I must say mine is coming along very nicely, very nicely indeed. You remember I had to be quite severe with him about wearing a soft hat before Goodwood? [the others smile and shake their heads] Good as gold now, good as gold.
Jeeves: [taking the book] Ah, thank you.
Valet #1: I'm really quite concerned about this first-name business.
Valet at the head of the table: I think they pick it up from the cinema.
Valet #1: Why don't you try not answering when he calls you by the wrong name?
Valet #2: Oh, I don't think I could carry that off. One doesn't like to hurt their feelings, does one?

Roderick Spode: [angrily] Why wasn't Fink-Nottle at dinner?
Bertie: Perhaps he wasn't hungry.
Spode: I'm looking for him.
Bertie: Oh. Right. Well uh...any message if he should turn up?
Spode: Tell him I'm going to break his neck!
Bertie: Break his neck. Right. And, uh, if he should ask why?
Spode: He knows why! Because he's a butterfly who toys with women's hearts and throws them aside like soiled gloves.
Bertie: Do butterflies do that?
Spode: Are you trying to be funny?
Bertie: No, no, no.
Spode: Good.

Bertie: Spode qua menace — if "qua" is the word I'm after — is a thing of the past.

Bertie: [to Spode] I would like to know why the devil you keep coming into my private apartment and then taking up space which I require for other purposes.

A Plan for Gussie [2.2]

[edit]
Roderick Spode: [speaking to to a small crowd] At birth, every citizen, as a right, will be issued with a British bicycle and an honest, British-made umbrella. Thus assured of a mobile workforce adequately protected against the elements, this great country can go forward once more to glory!
Crowd: Hurray!
Barmy: [to Jeeves] I say. That's a jolly good idea, Jeeves.
Roderick Spode: Citizens of Totleigh-in-the-Wold, I say to you that nothing stands between us and our victory, except defeat! Tomorrow is a new day! The future lies ahead!
Barmy: D'you know, I never thought of that.

Roderick Spode: Ah, Jeeves. Glad to see you here. You're just the sort of person we need in the movement — the working masses. [Jeeves stiffens]
Jeeves: [coldly] I hesitate to contradict you, Mr. Spode, but the "working masses" and I have barely a nodding acquaintanceship. Good afternoon.

Stiffy Byng: Oh, ha jolly ha.
Bertie Wooster: Oh, ha jolly ha to you, young Stiffy, with knobs on!
Stiffy Byng: And ha jolly ha to you, with double knobs on!

Stiffy Byng: Jeeves, you really are the specific dream rabbit.

Sir Watkyn Bassett: She'll make something of you, perhaps. I'm sure there are many good qualities underneath that, uh...rough exterior.
Bertie Wooster: Uh, well, no, actually.

Roderick Spode: [banging at Gussie's door] Come out, you putrid little earthworm! [...] I'm going to tear your head from off your shoulders!

Bertie Wooster: Ah! What ho, Sir Watkyn?
Sir Watkyn Bassett: Kindly do not address me in that familiar way, Wooster. I happen to know that, once again, you yield to the awful temptation to steal a policeman's helmet!
Bertie Wooster: Oh, rot!

Roderick Spode: Fink-Nottle! I'm going to ram that notebook of yours down your throat!

Bertie Wooster: [speaking of Spode] You can't be a successful dictator and design women's underclothing.
Jeeves: No, sir.
Bertie Wooster: One or the other, not both.
Jeeves: Precisely, sir.

Bertie Wooster: Are these the actions of rational human beings, Jeeves?
Jeeves: It's difficult to say, sir.
Bertie Wooster: I mean, is it for this that we dragged ourselves from the primeval ooze, to stir up the emotions of civil, honest citizens to the point of frenzy and then go around playing tennis and giggling?
Jeeves: It's an interesting question, sir.

Pearls Mean Tears [2.3]

[edit]
Bertie Wooster: Have you ever seen a floral clock, Jeeves?
Jeeves: I have not had that pleasure, sir.
Bertie Wooster: No, well, don't. Have nothing whatever to do with floral clocks. If a friend says, "Just one more floral clock can't do you any harm," be firm.
Jeeves: I shall do as you recommend, sir.

Jeeves: Did you have a pleasant afternoon, sir?
Bertie Wooster: You have a cruel streak, Jeeves. I hadn't realized it before. What blighter was it that invented the bicycle?
Jeeves: The first truly rideable machine was made by a Mr. Kirkpatrick Macmillan of Dumfriesshire in Scotland in, erm, 1839, I believe, sir.
Bertie Wooster: Oh. Too late to do anything about it now, I suppose.
Jeeves: I fear so, sir.

Aunt Agatha: [to the police officer] And stand up straight! Is that the way they teach you to stand at the police force nowadays?
Bertie Wooster: Is there anything I can do, Aunt Agatha?
Aunt Agatha: Yes, there is. You can leave. I have enough to bear without your imbecilities. [to the officer] Your chief constable should hear of this. What is your name?
Bertie Wooster: I think there's something the matter with that girl, Auntie. Isn't she crying or something?
Aunt Agatha: Remorse! She stole my pearls! [to the officer] Do you refuse to give me your name?
Bertie Wooster: Pearls? Well, that's a coincidence. These aren't the little chaps, are they? [holding them up]
Aunt Agatha: Oh, no, of course not — [catching sight of them] Wh-where did—?
Bertie Wooster: I got them from your friends the Hemmingways.
Aunt Agatha: The Hemmingways? The Hemmingways?! Well, how did they come into the possession of the Hemmingways?
Bertie Wooster: Because they jolly well stole them, that's how! That's what they do for a living! They are jewel thieves!
Aunt Agatha: No, no, no, no, no, no—
Bertie Wooster: Yes, yes, aged A! I mean, I don't want to rub it in, but you do realize that if you had succeeded in getting me to marry that girl, then I should most probably have had children who'd have sneaked my watch while I was dandling them on my knee!
Aunt Agatha: Oh, Bertie, dear, you—
Bertie Wooster: Now I'm not a complaining sort of chap, as a rule, but I must say that in future, you might be just a little bit more careful how you go about egging me on to marry females! [hands her the pearls and walks out, then does a dance in the hall]

Bertie Wooster: It's Biffy, isn't it? What have you got against old Biffy?
Jeeves: I'm sure Mr. Biffen has many fine qualities, sir.
Bertie Wooster: Oh, very well, then. If you're not going to chip in and save a fellow creature, I suppose I can't make you. You're going to look pretty silly, though, when I get old Biffy out of the soup without your assistance.
Jeeves: I shall try to bear up under the shame of it, sir.
Bertie Wooster: Yes, well.... Right, well, I'm going back into that sitting room now, Jeeves, and I'm going to put in some pretty tense thinking.
Jeeves: Very good, sir. Shall I wake you at six, sir?
Bertie Wooster: Er yes, tha— [turning suddenly] NO, NO, Jeeves! There will be no need! The brain will be racing.
Jeeves: [in disbelief] As you say, sir.

Lady Glossop: Are you a theater lover, Mr. Wooster?
Bertie Wooster: Oh, rather!
Lady Glossop: One of my most treasured memories is of Irving playing Hamlet at the Lyceum.
Bertie Wooster: Really? Who won? [guffaws]

[doorbell rings]
Bertie Wooster: Was that the doorbell, Jeeves?
Jeeves: It certainly gave that impression, sir.
Bertie Wooster: Who could that be at this time of night?
Jeeves: I shall endeavor to ascertain, sir.

Jeeves in the Country [2.4]

[edit]
Bertie Wooster: Well, let me tell you, Mr. Mangelhoffer, that the man that hath no music in himself is fit for... hang on a minute. [goes into the other room, where Jeeves is peeling potatoes] Jeeves, what was it Shakespeare said the man that hadn't music in himself was fit for?
Jeeves: Treasons, stratagems, and spoils, sir.
Bertie Wooster: [returning] Treasons, stratagems, and spoils.
Mr. Mangelhoffer: What?
Bertie Wooster: That's what he's fit for, the man that hath no music in himself.

Bertie Wooster: Jeeves, unpleasantness has reared its ugly head in the West 1 postal district.

Chuffy Chuffnell: And this is my friend Bertie Wooster.
J. Washburn Stoker: [frowning] Wooster!
Pauline Stoker: [smiling] Well, well, well! Old Colonel Wooster in person. [walks over to Bertie]
Bertie Wooster: Oh, well, you know....
Pauline Stoker: Well, sir, this has certainly made my day, you little blob of sunshine. [tweaks Bertie's cheek, then takes him by the arm] Isn't he looking lovely, Father?
J. Washburn Stoker: Come away from that man, Pauline. That man is bad news!
[Pauline makes an expression of mock horror with widened eyes]

Bertie Wooster: [referring to Marmaduke "Chuffy" Chuffnell] Well, no one would say that "Marmaduke" was a beautiful name, wantonly and without good reason.
Pauline Stoker: [sighs] All right. Less of the Sherlock stuff. I'm not trying to hide anything.
Bertie Wooster: Uh-huh. And you love this, um — [chuckles] excuse me — this Marmaduke?
Pauline Stoker: I'm dippy about him, Bertie. Don't you just worship the way his hair sort of fluffs up at the back?
Bertie Wooster: My dear girl, I have better things to do than go about staring at the back of Chuffy's head. The front's bad enough.

Bertie Wooster: Well, there's only one thing for it, Jeeves: Chuffy must be shoved over the brink.
Jeeves: I do not quite follow you, sir.
Bertie Wooster: What he needs is a jolt. If he thought that there was a grave danger of some other bloke scooping her up, well, wouldn't that make him forget those dashed silly ideas of his and charge ahead, breathing fire through the nostrils?
Jeeves: Jealousy is undoubtedly a powerful motivating energy, sir.

Bertie Wooster: And what about the oof situation?
Chuffy Chuffnell: The what?
Bertie Wooster: The oof, the dibs, the do-re-mi, the happy cabbage, the oil of palm.
Chuffy Chuffnell: Yes, yes, I do speak English.

Chuffy Chuffnell: She must have had a wonderful time being engaged to you. What on earth made her accept you, I wonder.
Bertie Wooster: Do you know, I once consulted a knowledgeable pal, and his theory was that the sight of me hanging around like a loony sheep awoke the maternal instinct in woman. There may be something in this.

[as firemen arrive to put out a fire raging at the cottage where he's staying, Bertie, reeling in pain, crawls on his hands and knees to sit against a tree]
Bertie Wooster: I blame you for this, Jeeves.
Jeeves: With respect, sir, I merely intended Mr. Stoker to discover his daughter at your cottage. So strongly does he disapprove of you that I expected him to look more kindly on Miss Stoker's putative engagement to Lord Chuffnell. The fact that His Lordship should also discover her here, and in mortal peril, was, as the Americans say, pure gravy.
[Jeeves regards the unfolding drama with satisfaction. Bertie stares at the scene, dumbfounded at first; as Jeeves's words sink in, he begins to smile, then winces again in pain]

Kidnapped! [2.5]

[edit]
Bertie Wooster: Save the congratulations for later, Jeeves, but as the French might say, it is dans le sac.

Pauline Stoker: What had you done to those people, Bertie?
Bertie Wooster: I was once engaged to their daughter.
Pauline Stoker: Ah.

Jeeves: Foreign travel often liberates emotions best kept in check, sir, and the air of North America is notoriously stimulating in this regard, as witness the regrettable behavior of its inhabitants in 1776.
Bertie Wooster: What happened in 1776, Jeeves?
Jeeves: I prefer not to dwell on it, if it's convenient to you, sir.

J. Washburn Stoker: If you think I'm going to let my daughter marry a man who consorts with common criminals, you do not know the middle west of America!

Jeeves: Feminine psychology is admittedly odd, sir. The poet Pope made frequent re—
Bertie Wooster: Oh, never mind about the poet Pope, Jeeves.
Jeeves: No, sir.
Bertie Wooster: There are times when one wants to hear all about the poet Pope and times when one doesn't.
Jeeves: Very true, sir.

Magistrate: These are serious charges. But I'm inclined to believe that you, Alfred Trotsky, and you, Frederick Aloisius Lenin, were led astray. You are discharged. But as for the rest of you — Boko Disraeli, Oofy Lloyd George, Barmy Lord Tennyson and the rest — not only have you been guilty of a breach of the peace of considerable magnitude, I also strongly suspect that you have given false names and addresses! You are each fined the sum of five pounds.
Bertie Wooster: I say!
Magistrate: Quiet, Dr. Crippen!

Jeeves the Matchmaker [2.6]

[edit]
[Tuppy, speaking of a rift in his relationship with Angela Travers]
Tuppy: You know she has given me the push!
Bertie Wooster: No!
Tuppy: She has! Simply because I was man enough to speak out candidly on the subject of a ghastly hat she was chump enough to buy. Fwuh!
Bertie Wooster: What do you mean, fwuh?
Tuppy: All I said was, it made her look like a raccoon peering out from underneath a flower pot. Which it did.
Bertie Wooster: Yes, well they're not all too keen on fearless honesty, I find.
Tuppy: Well, your cousin Angela certainly isn't.
Bertie Wooster: Not about hats, anyway.

Bertie Wooster: You know that play — oh, what was its dashed name — the one I saw last night.
Jeeves: No, sir.
Bertie Wooster: It's on at the whatcha-call-it. Anyway, the hero's a chap who is buzzing along through life, you know, quite merry and bright, apart from his gammy leg from the war. And all of a sudden, this kid turns up, and says that she's his daughter ... left over from act one. And it's absolutely the first he's ever heard of it! So obviously, there's a bit of a fuss, and they say to him what ho, and he says what ho. And ... anyway, he takes the kid, and they go off together, out into the world!
Jeeves: Very inspiring, sir.
Bertie Wooster: Yes well, I thought so, yes.

Bertie Wooster: I mean to say, Jeeves — if a girl can't, in the course of ordinary everyday conversation, tell a chap to go and boil his head without said chap turning to the arms of another, well, I mean, where are we, Jeeves?
Jeeves: Where indeed, sir.

[Jeeves is in the kitchen recovering from a momentary panic attack]
Bertie Wooster: What on earth's the matter, Jeeves? Jeeves?
Jeeves: [coughs] I apologize, sir. It was unforgivable of me. I shall be better directly. It's just... Mr. Little's tie, sir. It has... little horseshoes on it, sir.
Bertie Wooster: Oh yes, yes, I noticed that.
Jeeves: It's sometimes difficult just to shrug these things off, sir.

Bertie Wooster: This may well be it, Jeeves.
Jeeves: "It," sir?
Bertie Wooster: Pitching the woo, Jeeves. Not to rule out popping the question. The lights will be low, the wine will be flowing...
Jeeves: I'm sure I wish you every good fortune, sir. I only hope that the dog will not impede your endeavors.
Bertie Wooster: Patrick? Patrick will be warmly ensconced in your room, Jeeves.
Jeeves: It is, if you recall, sir, my evening off. I had promised myself a quiet evening with an improving book.
Bertie Wooster: Can't you spend an evening with an improving dog?

Bobbie Wickham: First you need a good long piece of string. You know what string is, don't you?
Bertie Wooster: Certainly, as in string.

[Bertie tries to address a girls' school as the students keep making faces at him]
Bertie Wooster: Er, right, yes! Er, well. Erm... oh, ah, yes! Now! Here's something that's often done me a bit of good, er, and it's something that not many people know. [the girls begin making faces again, and he pauses in confusion] Ah, yes, well, anyway. Erm — my uncle Henry gave me the tip when I first came to London. Er, "Never forget, my boy," he said, "that — er — that if you stand outside Romano's in the Strand, you can see the clock on the wall of the law courts down in Fleet Street." Now most people don't know this, wouldn't think it was possible, because there are a couple of hefty-looking churches in the middle of the road, and, er, you'd think they'd get in the way, but they don't! You can! And, er, it's, well, it's worth knowing. You can win a lot of money, he used to say, by betting on it with fellows who... who... who haven't found it out. [laughs nervously] And, by Jove, he was absolutely right. It-it really is a... a thing to remember. Yes, many's the quid I've won...
Headmistress: [clears her throat loudly] Perhaps, Mr. Wooster, a story might be in order, some anecdote to illustrate the benefits of hard work, study, and healthy living?
Bertie Wooster: A story! Right. Erm... never can remember stories. Oh! Yes, yes, here's one I heard recently. [laughs to himself] Erm... It seems that there was this chorus girl [the girls burst out laughing], and she met this stockbroker. And he said to her...

Bertie Wooster: Am I wrong in thinking that all little girls are hard-bitten thugs of the worst description?
Jeeves: Your definition is sadly near the truth, sir.

Season 3

[edit]

Bertie Sets Sail [3.1]

[edit]
Ship's captain: [reacting to soup splashed on his uniform from a dinner roll that Tuppy tossed to draw Bertie's attention] This is not the sort of behavior we allow on this ship!
Tuppy Glossop: [to Bertie, who's standing next to the captain] Who's the chap in the fancy dress?
Bertie Wooster: He's the captain. Nice fellow. Speaks very good French.
Tuppy Glossop: [to the captain, with affected upper-class accent] Eh, look, I'm terribly sorry, señor. Quel fromage and all that. [to Bertie, apparently not registering that the captain also speaks English] That'll hold him. They love it when you speak the old lingo.
[the captain glares at Tuppy]

Bertie Wooster: You've heard of limpets, Jeeves?
Jeeves: The gastropod mollusc of the genus Patella noted for adhering tightly to rocks, sir?
Bertie Wooster: Exactly, Jeeves. Well, this blasted Pershore seems to be noted for adhering tightly to Woosters. Can't get rid of the blighter. Just as I'm about to click with some toothsome filly, up pops Motty Pershore to enliven proceedings by standing at my elbow like a wet weekend at Chalfont St. Giles.

[seeing the Statue of Liberty for the first time]
Bertie Wooster: She's a fair size, Jeeves.
Jeeves: Indeed, sir.
Bertie Wooster: Puts one in mind of Honoria Glossop in that white dress she used to wear at hunt balls.
Jeeves: The similarity is a striking one, sir.
Bertie Wooster: Now, Jeeves, why do you think they built all these tall buildings?
Jeeves: Well, sir, it was partly because of the restricted size of Manhattan Island and partly because the island is solid granite and therefore capable of supporting such structures.
Bertie Wooster: Nothing to do with having got the plans sideways, then.
Jeeves: No, sir.
Bertie Wooster: That's what Barmy told me.
Jeeves: You will pardon me for saying so, sir, but Mr. Fotheringay-Phipps is not noted for his architectural expertise.

Bertie Wooster: You, er, ate something last night that disagreed with you, did you?
Wilmot Pershore: No. Nothing of the kind. I drank too much. Much too much. Lots and lots too much. And what's more, I'm going to do it again! I'm going to do it every night!
Bertie Wooster: Yes, well... yes, right. You see, the thing is, Motty — I'm sort of responsible for you, so to speak, and if you carry on like this I'm liable to end up neck-deep in the soup with your mother.
Wilmot Pershore: Well, I can't help your troubles, old thing. This is the first time in my life I've had the chance to yield to the temptations of a great city.
Bertie Wooster: Well, yes, but Motty—
Wilmot Pershore: No, old thing. All my bally life I've been cooped up in the ancestral home in Much Middlefold in Shropshire. And until you've been cooped up in Much Middlefold in Shropshire, you don't know what cooping is. This is my only chance to assemble a disreputable past, and I'm going to take it!

Bertie Wooster: Jeeves, there's a dog in there!
Jeeves: That will be Rollo, sir. His Lordship [Wilmot Pershore] informed me that he purchased the animal from a Norwegian seaman.
Bertie Wooster: He tried to bite me!
Jeeves: No doubt in time the creature will learn to distinguish your peculiar scent, sir.
Bertie Wooster: What do you mean, "my peculiar scent"? Jeeves, I do not intend to hang about in my bedroom while life slips by, in the hope that one of these days some dratted animal will decide that I smell all right!

Pauline Stoker: It's Bertie Wooster! Well, well, well!
Bertie Wooster: Well, well, well, yourself, old fruit.

The Full House [3.2]

[edit]
Bertie Wooster: By the way, Jeeves, on no account do we agree to our staying here overnight.
Jeeves: Very good, sir. Might one inquire why?
Bertie Wooster: Because, Jeeves, of all places on this great planet of ours, West Neck, Long Island, has been chosen to be the most unexciting. The last time anything remotely interesting happened here was in 1842, when a tree fell over. They still talk about it in the village.

Rockmeteller Todd: [running toward Bertie with paper in hand] Listen to this! Just listen to this!
Bertie Wooster: Wait a minute, wait a minute!
Rockmeteller Todd: What?
Bertie Wooster: Can't a chap hang up his hat before he's read to?

Rockmeteller Todd: Good Lord, I'd have to dress for dinner every night! I won't do it. I can't do it! Do you realize, I don't usually get out of my pajamas till five in the afternoon, and then I just put on a sweater, like this?
Bertie Wooster: Don't listen, Jeeves.
Jeeves moans
Bertie Wooster: Jeeves?
Jeeves, in anguish, sits on a nearby tree stump, face cupped in hands
Bertie Wooster: I'm sorry, Jeeves, you shouldn't have heard that. [pats Jeeves on the shoulder]
Jeeves: [recomposing himself] I shall be better directly, sir.

in the stairwell of a New York City apartment building
Jeeves: Good afternoon, madam.
Woman: [holding the handle of a mop] Don't you "good afternoon" me, I'm a respectable woman.
Jeeves: I have no reason to doubt it, madam. We are calling upon Mr. Bickersteth.
Woman: Next floor up. [as Jeeves and Bertie resume climbing the stairs] Hey, big fella. [Jeeves turns around] You're kinda cute, the way you talk.
Jeeves: Madam is too kind.
Woman: If you wanna come up and split a beer anytime...
Jeeves: Well, I shall certainly bear your generous invitation in mind if I am in the vicinity. Good afternoon, madam. [tips his hat, and he and Bertie hurry up the stairs]
Bertie Wooster: You seem to have made a bit of a conquest there, Jeeves.
Jeeves: Thank you, sir.

at a New York City diner
Waitress: One burger medium, one rare, and one ham and eggs over easy. [to Jeeves] You wanna shake with that?
Jeeves: Thank you, no, I shall, er, just sit here quietly, I think.
Waitress: [to Bertie] Is he being funny?
Bertie Wooster: No, he always talks like that. [to Jeeves] She means do you want a milkshake, Jeeves.
Jeeves: Oh! Thank you, no. A cup of coffee, if you please.
Waitress: You got it. [walks away]
Jeeves: [looking around] Don't think I have....

Waitress: Say. You're pretty cute, you know that?
Jeeves: Thank you. So I have been informed.

Bertie Wooster: Jeeves, you seem to have a fatal fascination for the women of this country.
Jeeves: Yes, it is a problem, sir.
Bertie Wooster: There's no chance of your switching it off, or something, I suppose?
Jeeves: I regret not, sir. I have to learn to bear it.
Bertie Wooster: As do the rest of us, Jeeves.

Jeeves: Good morning, sir.
Bertie Wooster: I have the distinct feeling that I have only been asleep for ten minutes, Jeeves. What time is it?
Jeeves: Seven o'clock, sir.
Bertie Wooster: Seven o'clock?! Did I ask to be wakened three and a half hours before breakfast?

Bertie Wooster: Well, can't Jeeves think of anything?
Rockmeteller Todd: He just hangs around saying, [imitating Jeeves] "most disturbing, sir." Fat lot of good that does.

Jeeves: [to the "Boost for Birdsburg" conventioneers] Will it redound to the good name of Birdsburg, gentlemen, if it is printed in every newspaper in the land that you, the town's representatives, were mousetrapped by a pair of suede-shoe feather merchants?

Introduction on Broadway [3.3]

[edit]
[On casting the role of the butler in the play Ask Dad!]
George Caffyn: Now look, I know it's a small part, but we're really looking for an Englishman to play it.
Bertie Wooster: No, I played Brutus at school once, and I was the one everybody stabbed.

Alexander Worple: It's always a pleasure to meet another jute man. I love jute. You see this model of a yellow-bellied sapsucker? Made entirely from jute.
Bertie Wooster: [softly] Good Lord. Huh!
Alexander Worple: This entire edifice you see around you... built on jute!
Bertie Wooster: Really? [stomps on floor, testing its durability, as he looks around room] Pretty useful stuff, then.

Jeeves: I am familiar with the name Bassington-Bassington, sir. There are the Shropshire Bassington-Bassingtons, the Hampshire Bassington-Bassingtons, and of course the Kent Bassington-Bassingtons.
Bertie Wooster: Ah. So the world's pretty well stocked up on Bassington-Bassingtons, then?
Jeeves: Tolerably so, sir.
Bertie Wooster: No chance of a sudden shortage, I mean, huh?
Jeeves: Presumably not, sir.

[Bertie's postcards as he travels across America with the cast of Ask Dad!]
Bertie Wooster: Well, we're off on our travels, Jeeves. Blasted tricky business, what they call "hunting" in these parts; they do it without horses. Managed to wing a forest ranger the other day, however. The show's a sellout everywhere. My log cabin marked with an X. [...] Westward, ever westward, Jeeves. We're all having a whale of a time, especially Cyril Bassington-Bassington. My sleeping-car marked with an X.... Show doing famously, Jeeves. I must say the horses out here are rather excitable. The local lads are pretty excitable, too. I've had to buy a few new clothes, I'm afraid, but I'm sure you'll approve. My bunkhouse marked with an X. [...] This card shows a picture of the Rockies, Jeeves. They're mountains, as you can see. And dashed rocky they are, too. My rock marked with an X.... This is the life, Jeeves. Not a fish in sight and boots slowly filling with ice water. I did catch a couple of trout the other day. One of them looked exactly like Oofy Prosser. Don't suppose the Oofys hail from Montana, do you? My teepee marked with an X.... I've now seen Ask Dad! six billion and blasted two times, Jeeves — or is it six billion and blasted three? — and still no blasted sign of a blasted Broadway theater. My seat in the blasted orchestra stalls marked with a blasted X. [...] P.S.: I really think I might leave the show and totter home soon.

Bertie Wooster: Well, what do you think?
Jeeves: I only hope the poor creature died a peaceful death, sir.
Bertie Wooster: What? Oh, the coat, yes. It is rather snazzy, isn't it? No, I was referring to the moustache, the old soup strainer.
Jeeves: Very striking, sir.
Bertie Wooster: Rather Ronald Colman, I thought.
Jeeves: It was Lord Kitchener who sprang to mind on first sighting, sir.
Bertie Wooster: Blast it, Jeeves! I shall do what I like with my own upper lip.

Bertie Wooster: You know, Jeeves, in spite of the fact that we're being dragged back to Dear Old Blighty under somewhat ignominious circumstances by an enraged aunt, I shan't be sorry to go.
Jeeves: No indeed, sir. It will be a pleasure to be home.

Right Ho, Jeeves! [3.4]

[edit]
Bertie Wooster: You see the ghastly position, Jeeves? What is going to happen when Gussie doesn't turn up at Deverill Hall? Madeline will make inquiries. You know what women are like for digging out the truth. And nothing puts an idealistic young girl off a fellow more than the news that he's doing fourteen days in chokey.
Jeeves: A very acute observation, sir.
Bertie Wooster: There can be but one result. Gussie will get the bum's rush, and the bowed figure you will see shambling down the aisle at Madeline Bassett's side, while the organ plays "The Voice That Breathed O'er Eden," will be Bertram Wilberforce Wooster.
Catsmeat Potter-Pirbright: Well, I don't see why.
Bertie Wooster: [sighs] Madeline Bassett labors under the delusion that I'm madly in love with her. Well, when a girl thinks you're in love with her and comes to you and says that she's returning her betrothed to store and is prepared to sign up with you instead, what can you do except marry her? One has to be civil.
Jeeves: [clears his throat] There is one possible solution, sir.
Bertie Wooster: [to Catsmeat] You see? "There is one possible solution, sir" — just like that. For your information, Catsmeat, Jeeves takes a size 14 hat, eats tons of fish and moves in mysterious ways, his wonders to perform. [to Jeeves] Speak, Jeeves.

Bertie Wooster: You can't go around London asking people to pretend to be Gussie Fink-Nottle! Well, yes, you can, I suppose, but what a hell of a life.

Bertie Wooster: Jeeves, how could I ever doubt you?
Jeeves: I could not say, sir.

Bertie Wooster: What's all this about you not writing to Madeline?
Gussie Fink-Nottle: Madeline?
Bertie Wooster: Madeline! Do you realize she's started sending telegrams about it? For all our sakes, Gussie, write to her!
Gussie Fink-Nottle: I am not at all pleased with Madeline. It was she who made me come to this ghastly place. I only consented on the understanding that she'd come too. Then, at the last moment, she coolly backed out on the flimsy plea that some school friend of hers needs her. She must be made to realize she can't do that sort of thing. So I'm not going to write to her. It's a sort of a system.
Bertie Wooster: Gussie, for the last time, will you or will you not immediately compose an eight-page letter breathing love in every syllable and post it to Madeline?
Gussie Fink-Nottle: Not!

Bertie Wooster: Jeeves, I'm sunk!
Jeeves: Well, sir, if Mr. Fink-Nottle will not write to Miss Bassett, perhaps you might write to her yourself.
Bertie Wooster: But she doesn't want to hear from me, Jeeves, she wants to hear from Gussie.
Jeeves: If it were indicated to Miss Bassett that Mr. Fink-Nottle had sprained his wrist and had to dictate a letter to you, sir...
Catsmeat Potter-Pirbright: I say, what a wheeze! You were right about him, Bertie.
Jeeves: Thank you, sir. [to Bertie] If you were to say that Mr. Fink-Nottle had given his wrist a nasty wrench while stopping a runaway horse and saving a little child from a hideous death, it might turn Mr. Fink-Nottle's taciturnity to your advantage, sir. A golden-haired child is usually best in such circumstances.

Gussie Fink-Nottle: [playing the piano and singing horribly off-key while lisping] How do you feel / When you marry your ideal? / Ever tho goothey, goothey, goothey, goothey...

Bertie Wooster: You know, Jeeves, if someone were to come to me and ask if I'd be willing to join a society whose aim will be the suppression of aunts — or who will at least see to it that they are kept on a short chain and not permitted to roam at will, scattering desolation on all sides — I'd reply "Wilbraham" — if his name was Wilbraham, that is — "Wilbraham, put me down as a foundation member."
Jeeves: I'm sure such a society would not be lacking for subscribers, sir.

Hot Off the Press [3.5]

[edit]
Bertie Wooster: Observe the time, Jeeves?
Jeeves: Yes indeed, sir, not yet half past three.
Bertie Wooster: Yes, perhaps you think it odd that I'm back from lunch at this unfashionably early hour.
Jeeves: It did occur to me to wonder, sir, whether there had been a conflagration at the Drones Club.

Bertie Wooster: Apparently that's what the song's all about. So on Barmy's recommendation, I rushed out and bought a copy. I now intend to give it a bit of a run-through on the piano.
Jeeves: Is that wise, sir, so soon after a heavy meal?
Bertie Wooster: I shall ignore that cheap gibe, Jeeves.

Bertie Wooster: Were there any messages?
Jeeves: Just one, sir. Lady Florence Craye telephoned. She will be calling on you shortly.
Bertie Wooster: [gaping] Lady — F-Florence Craye? Good heavens.... Well, well, well.... Good, well. [leaves kitchen, then comes back in] Ah, Jeeves! Still, uh, still there, are you?
Jeeves: Yes, sir.
Bertie Wooster: Jeeves, there was — there was a book on the little table thing by the sofa.
Jeeves: Was it entitled Strength Through Willpower, by Lady Florence Craye, sir?
Bertie Wooster: That's the one, Jeeves.
Jeeves: I placed it by your bedside, sir. I took the liberty of glancing through the volume and thought it might make an excellent remedy for insomnia. Would you like me to get it, sir?
Bertie Wooster: No, no, no, I'll — I'll get it, Jeeves. Just thought I'd leave it casually lying about, as she gave it to me, you see. Trying to improve my mind, I dare say.
Jeeves: That seems scarcely possible, sir.

Bertie Wooster: Yes, Lord Worplesden's place.
Jeeves: Yes, sir. Lady Florence Craye's father.
Bertie Wooster: Yes. Yes, absolutely. Well [coughs nervously] anyway ... we're engaged. Just thought I'd ... I'd let you know. To Lady Florence, that is, not her father.
Jeeves: Let me be the first to congratulate you, sir.
Bertie Wooster: You ... you don't disapprove, Jeeves?
Jeeves: It is hardly my place to say, sir.
Bertie Wooster: Well, I know that it is hardly your place to say, Jeeves. Doesn't normally stop you.

Bertie Wooster [singing one of his idiotic songs]:
Hot ginger and dynamite
There's nothing but that at night.
Back in Nagasaki where the fellows chew tobaccy
And the women wicky wacky woo.
I knew Barmy hadn't lost his touch!
Oh Fujiyama, you get a mama
Then your troubles increase.
In some pagoda she orders soda
The earth shakes milk shakes ten cents a piece.
They kissee and huggee nice
By jingo, it's worth the price.
Back in Nagasaki where the fellows chew tobaccy
And the women wicky wacky woo.
You just have to act your age
Or wind up inside a cage.
Back in Nagasaki where the fellows chew tobaccy
And the women wicky wacky woo.
Bertie Wooster Well, now Jeeves! That's a bit more like it, eh?
Jeeves: [attempting to be diplomatic] Extremely ... invigorating, sir.
Bertie Wooster: Yes, Jeeves, it's just the word I would have used. Yes, it makes you want to get up and bally well have a run around the park.
Jeeves: My feelings precisely, sir.

Bertie Wooster: How's Stinker?
Stiffy Byng: Who?
Bertie Wooster: Your fiance.
Stiffy Byng: I don't have a fiance. If a girl's fiance can't stand up to a girl's uncle and demand a girl's hand in marriage, he has no right to call himself a fiance.
Bertie Wooster: I thought he had done all that?
Stiffy Byng: He did. But uncle Watty refused.
Bertie Wooster: Well that's hardly Stinker's fault ...
Stiffy Byng: He obviously didn't put enough backbone into it.

Stiffy Byng: Gussie's playing Pat in the "Pat and Mike" cross-talk act at the village concert I'm producing.
Bertie Wooster: Oh, really? And who's playing Mike in this merry mélange of fun and topicality?

[Bertie tries to steal the manuscript from Sir Watkyn's study]
Sir Watkyn Bassett: What are you doing here?
Bertie Wooster: Er ... dinner!
Sir Watkyn: Dinner? This isn't the dining room.
Bertie Wooster: Isn't it? Oh. Thought I could smell tapioca.
Sir Watkyn: The dining room's over there. You can't miss it. There are people having dinner in it.

Spode: Even the black shorts that my followers wear are symbolic.
Sir Watkyn: Symbolic?
Spode: Certainly! They signify the brevity of our patience with present-day political apathy. And black is symbolic of the fact that so riddled with inefficiencies is our present-day industrial structure, that my suppliers ... ran out of all the other colours.

Jeeves: Will that be all, sir?
Bertie Wooster: Yes, that'll be all, Jeeves. ... Or rather no. I'll tell you what, Jeeves, you couldn't just pop down to Sir Watkyn's study for me, could you? You'll find a safe in there, just a little one ...
Jeeves: No, sir.
Bertie Wooster: Oh dash it all, Jeeves.
Jeeves: Will that be all, sir?
Bertie Wooster: You're a hard man, Jeeves.
Jeeves: But a free one, sir, and it is my ambition to remain in that state. Good night, sir.

[Bertie, in the middle of the night, finds Spode applying a sledgehammer to the safe in Sir Watkyn's study]
Bertie Wooster: I say! [the sledgehammer, missing the safe, comes crashing down instead on an adjacent table] What are you doing!?
Spode: How dare you question my motives!?

[Bertie tries in vain to remember the Battle of Naseby, the year of which holds the key to opening Sir Watkyn's safe]
Bertie Wooster: Yes, the date of the battle is the number of the combination.
Spode: Ah, Trafalgar.
Bertie Wooster: Uh, no ...
Spode: Hastings.
Bertie Wooster: Yes! No ... no, like Hastings. Hastings ... Mason ... Raisin ...
Spode: [irritated] I don't recall a Battle of Raisin.
Bertie Wooster: Well perhaps it was in the Grape War. [chuckles] It was a joke, Spode.

[about the script for the "Pat and Mike" sketch]
Gussie Fink-Nottle: But it's absolute balderdash, Bertie. I mean, listen to this: "Sure and begorrah, I don't know what's after being the matter with you, Michael." I mean, what on earth is this "what's after being" stuff mean?
Bertie Wooster: My dear old Gussie, that is how people think Irish people talk.

Sir Watkyn: What parcel was this, Wooster?
Bertie Wooster: Nothing special... usual sort of brown-paper affair, bit of string, suspicion of sealing wax, that's all.

Bertie Wooster: Jeeves!
Jeeves: Yes, sir?
Bertie Wooster: That parcel has arrived in London!
Jeeves: Yes, sir.
Bertie Wooster: Well, did you send it?
Jeeves: Yes, sir. [Bertie lets out a small scream] I acted for the best, sir.
Bertie Wooster: You do know that Lady Florence has broken off her engagement with me.
Jeeves: In my opinion, sir — and I'm sorry if this causes you any distress — you and Lady Florence are not ideally matched. Her ladyship is of a highly arbitrary and determined temperament, sir, quite opposed to your own.
Bertie Wooster: Oh, indeed, Jeeves! Well, I'm very grateful for your opinion! I must say that what I had in mind from you was abject, quivering apology! This is very sad, Jeeves, but I'm going to have to think very seriously about your future. I — [catches sight of Florence telling off two servants downstairs]
Florence Craye: ...I trust that is not alcohol I smell on your breath. Drunkenness may be de rigeur among the servants in some houses, but I should be sorry to see it take hold here.
Servant 1: My lady.
Florence Craye: I suggest you read these. They're a brief introduction to the beliefs and aims of the Theosophical Society. Study them well! [hands a pamphlet to each servant, then exits]
Servant 2: Thank you, my lady.
Servant 1: Yes, Lady Worplesden.
Bertie Wooster: ...Yes, well, I've thought seriously about your future, Jeeves, and I think it should continue very much in the vein of your immediate past. I owe you an apology, Jeeves.
Jeeves: By no means, sir.

Comrade Bingo [3.6]

[edit]
Bingo Little: You, er ... don't know how I could raise fifty quid somehow, do you?
Bertie Wooster: Work?
Bingo Little: [recoiling in disappointment] Bertie.

[about the current object of Bingo's affection, Charlotte Rowbotham]
Bertie Wooster: I've only seen a photograph, Jeeves, and it may well be that she has a heart of gold; however, the first thing that strikes one about her is that she also has a tooth of gold.

Bertie Wooster: Aunt Dahlia! What ho, old blood relation!
Aunt Dahlia: [affectionately] Hello, Bertie, revolting young blot.

Bertie Wooster: Why is it do you think, Jeeves, that the thought of that little thing my Aunt Dahlia wants me to do for her fills me with a nameless foreboding?
Jeeves: Experience, sir?

Cornelia Fothergill: Everard's painting Lord Sidcup at the moment.
Bertie Wooster: Really? What colour? [chuckles]

[Bertie walks in on Madeline playing the piano]
Madeline Bassett: Oh, Bertie! I need someone to turn the pages for me.
Bertie Wooster: Right, well, I'll go and find someone, shall I?

Bertie Wooster: If you ask me, Jeeves, art is responsible for most of the trouble in the world.
Jeeves: It's an interesting theory, sir. Would you care to expatiate upon it?
[pause]
Bertie Wooster: Well, as a matter of fact, no, Jeeves. The thought just occurred to me, as thoughts do.
Jeeves: Very good, sir.

Season 4

[edit]

Return to New York [4.1]

[edit]
[Bertie wakens with a terrific hangover]
Bertie Wooster: Jeeves, I'm — I'm getting too old for all this. I feel like something that's been rejected by the Pure Food Committee.

[Claude and Eustace argue over Marion, a nightclub singer with whom they're both infatuated]
Claude: Have you come back to inflict your beastly society on Miss Wardour?
Eustace: Is that why you sneaked back in this underhand fashion?
Claude: Underhand? I like that! Well, may the best man win, that's what I say.
Bertie: Never mind about the best man. What about me? Suppose Aunt Agatha finds out.

Jeeves: In my experience, ladies who spell "Gwladys" with a "w" are seldom noted for their reliability, sir. It gives them romantic notions.

Bertie Wooster: This is a bit steep, Jeeves.
Jeeves: Approaching the perpendicular, sir.

[Bertie proposes kidnapping a small child to solve a problem]
Jeeves: I regret that the terms of my employment do not permit me to take part in criminal activity, sir.
Bertie Wooster: [dismissively] What rot, Jeeves. We're only going to borrow him for an hour. In any case, there's nothing remotely criminal about bringing two loving hearts together.
Jeeves: That is not an assertion I should care to see tested in a court of law, sir.

Jeeves: I attended the performance of a cinema film recently in which the estranged parents of the child were brought together again by the tot in question.
Bertie Wooster: Well, how?
Jeeves: If I remember rightly, sir, it said, "Dadda, doesn't 'oo love Mummy no more?"
Bertie Wooster: "Dadda, doesn't 'oo love Mummy no more?" And that did the trick, did it, Jeeves?
Jeeves: Oh, yes, indeed, sir. The picture concluded with a close-up of the happy pair in fond embrace, with the child looking on with natural gratification.

Jeeves: [training the baby] No, you must say "kiss Tuppy"... I'm sorry, unless you comply with our wishes in this matter, no more toffees will be forthcoming.

Tuppy Glossop: What about the money you owe me?
Alexander Slingsby: I don't owe you one goddamn red cent! My wife looked up your cockamamie soup in a cookbook!
Tuppy Glossop: It's Cock-a-Leekie! And my nanny never wrote a cookbook.
Alexander Slingsby: She didn't have to! It's in every cookbook from here to Vladivostok!

The Once and Future Ex [4.2]

[edit]
Nobby Hopwood: This isn't another idea for getting Clam and Uncle Percy together?
Bertie Wooster: Absolutely! Yes, "the simplicity of genius" is a phrase you might find springing unbidden to your lips.

Stilton Cheesewright: Don't "what ho" me. I know why you're in New York. You're here for a bit of snake-in-the-grassing.
Bertie Wooster: Snake-in-the...?
Stilton Cheesewright: Grassing!

Florence Craye: [referring to Stilton] D'Arcy Cheesewright is an uncouth Cossack!
Bertie Wooster: Isn't that one of those things clergymen wear?

Jeeves: When I was in service with Lord Worplesden, sir, Mr. Fittleworth contracted an engagement to Lady Florence.
Bertie Wooster: Boko Fittleworth did? Huh. I never knew that. This tendency on the part of the human race to rush around getting engaged to Florence is absolutely inexplicable.

George Caffyn: I fell asleep! I didn't wake up till Nobby was banging on the door. I don't know where girls get these expressions from, Bertie.
Bertie Wooster: What expressions?
George Caffyn: I couldn't repeat 'em, not with gentlemen present.

Bridegroom Wanted [4.3]

[edit]
Bertie Wooster: [playing the piano while singing] This Irving Berlin fellow seems to have come a bit of a cropper here, Jeeves.
Jeeves: Sir?
Bertie Wooster: This new song of his — too many words, not enough notes.
Jeeves: If you'll pardon me for saying so, sir, it seems to be a reasonably straightforward syncopated 5/4 time signature. If you were to accent the words "if," "where" and "fashion," I think you'd find that the correct rhythmic pattern would emerge.
Bertie Wooster: "If," "where" and "fashion." Right. [playing and singing] "If you're blue and you don't know where to go to / Why don't you go where fashion sits / Puttin' on the Ritz." Well, he more or less gets away with it, Jeeves, but what about this? "Spangled gowns upon a beauty of hand-me-downs on clown and cutie, all misfits, Puttin' on the Ritz"? Well, just as well for him he chose the Ritz, Jeeves. Imagine the trouble he'd have gone into if he'd decided to write about putting on the Regency. Now, where do you suppose he'd find a rhyme for "Regency," Jeeves?
Jeeves: Ah... "with due expediency," sir?
Bertie Wooster: [trying it out on the piano] "With due expediency / Puttin' on the Regency." It doesn't really work, does it, Jeeves?
Jeeves: Very true, sir.

Bertie Wooster: Sorry, Bingo, out of the question. I will not go through all that again. Telling him my pen name was Rosie M. Banks and that I'd written all those frightful novels.
Bingo Little: Not for me?
Bertie Wooster: Not for you nor a dozen like you.
Bingo Little: I never thought to hear those words from Bertie Wooster!
Bertie Wooster: Yeah. Yes, well, you've heard them now! Paste them into your hat!

Sir Roderick Glossop: The Glossop method is based on the patient being given an excess of whatever it is he most desires — as it may be alcohol or the companionship of the opposite sex or, as in Lord Bittlesham's case, food. The patient will eventually revolt at the sheer immoderation of it and voluntarily deny himself.
Bertie Wooster: Ah, sort of get it out of his system.
Sir Roderick Glossop: Precisely.
Bertie Wooster: Is it successful?
Sir Roderick Glossop: It's theoretically impeccable, Bertie, and extremely popular.
Bertie Wooster: Yes, yes, I should think it would be.

Bertie Wooster: Um, a problem has arisen in the life of, uh, a friend of mine, Jeeves, who shall remain nameless, and I want — or rather he wants — your advice.
Jeeves: Certainly, sir.
Bertie Wooster: Well, ah, I must begin by saying that this is one of those delicate problems where not only must my friend be nameless, but all the other personnel as well.
Jeeves: Would you prefer it if we were to term the protagonists A and B, sir?
Bertie Wooster: Yes, or North and South.
Jeeves: A and B is more customary, sir.
Bertie Wooster: Yes, well, you know best, Jeeves. Very well. Now then, A is male and B female. You follow me so far?
Jeeves: You have been lucidity itself, sir.

Bertie Wooster: Bingo, old can of fruit!
Bingo Little: What ho, Bertie.

The Delayed Arrival [4.4]

[edit]
Stilton Cheesewright: [referring to Bertie's cocktail] Now what do you suppose those things are doing to your eye?
Bertie Wooster: For your information, Cheesewright, one does not administer alcohol by the eye, or even by the ear. The mouth is the correct orifice.
Stilton Cheesewright: Not if one's meant to be in training for the Drones' darts tournament, it isn't.
Bertie Wooster: Ah, yes, of course, you've drawn me in the sweepstake, haven't you? Well, your money is safe, Cheesewright. The Wooster form is as devastating as ever.
Stilton Cheesewright: We want a win this year, Wooster, not another dratted tie. I happened to look into the Drones this afternoon. Freddie Widgeon was at the darts board, stunning everyone with a performance that — took the breath away.
Bertie Wooster: Tcha!
Stilton Cheesewright: Eh?
Bertie Wooster: I said "tcha!" scornfully, with ref. to F. Widgeon. I know his form backwards.
Stilton Cheesewright: He's knocked off smoking, you know!
Bertie Wooster: No!
Stilton Cheesewright: He takes a cold bath every morning!
Bertie Wooster: [shrugs] He's forgotten where the hot tap is.

[at the Mottled Oyster]
Florence Craye: This is wonderful! What horrible people! Are all nightclubs like this?
Bertie Wooster: Ah, well, this is about average for the unlicensed places.
Florence Craye: Unlicensed?
Bertie Wooster: You said you wanted somewhere low and garish.
Florence Craye: Oh no, I'm not complaining. This is just the sort of place I pictured Rollo coming to that night!
Bertie Wooster: Rollo?
Florence Craye: The hero of my novel. Rollo Beeminster. He's in a wild mood, reckless, desperate. He's lost the girl he loves, and he comes to this low nightclub trying to forget, but it's useless. He looks around him at the glitter and garishness and feels how hollow it all is.
Bertie Wooster: Yes. [clears throat] I saw Stilton at the Drones tonight.
Florence Craye: Oh, yes?
Bertie Wooster: Yes, he was in a wild mood. He looked about him at the Drones' smoking room and I could see he was feeling what a hollow... smoking room it was.

Aunt Dahlia: Oh, Bertie, if magazines had ears, Milady's Boudoir would be up to them in debt. I've got nasty little men in bowler hats knocking at my door.

Bertie Wooster: Well, I can't possibly come down to Brinkley, aged aunt. If I'm seen within a twenty-mile radius of Florence Craye, I get my spine broken.
Aunt Dahlia: Oh, you're so selfish, Bertie. You don't know how important this is to me.
Bertie Wooster: Well you don't know how important my spine is to me. I'm very attached to it.

Bertie Wooster: If that doesn't leave me without a stain on my character, well, then I don't know what it does leave me without a stain on.

Bertie Wooster: [watching Aunt Dahlia and Trotter seal the deal on Milady's Boudoir] He's kissed her on the cheek! Good Lord.... She's slapped him on the back... now she's helping him up, dusting down his suit...

[After the darts tournament, which, for the 17th year in a row, has ended in a tie]
Bertie Wooster: You know, Jeeves, I can't help thinking, somewhere at the back of my mind, there must be a better method of deciding the championship than playing the best of six games.
Jeeves: It does seem likely, sir.
Bertie Wooster: Perhaps the best of eight would do it.
Jeeves: Possibly, sir.
Bertie Wooster: Ten. Exhaustion might yet result, if nothing else.
Jeeves: I'm sure the Sports Committee will find a way, sir — given time.

Trouble at Totleigh Towers [4.5]

[edit]
Bertie Wooster: I know Stiffy. I'd run a mile in tight shoes for her. But she lacks that, that balanced judgment that one likes to see in girls.

Bertie Wooster: Oh, stop playing with the hat, Jeeves. I knew you wouldn't like it.
Jeeves: Oh, not at all, sir! Oh, good heavens, it has its name printed on the inside! How convenient!

Madeline Bassett: I'm furious with Augustus.
Bertie Wooster: Oh, surely not!
Madeline Bassett: He was so rude about Roderick.
Bertie Wooster: Never!
Madeline Bassett: He said to Daddy that he was sick and tired of seeing Roderick clumping about the place as if it belonged to him, and if Daddy had an ounce more sense than a billiard ball, he would charge him rent. He was most offensive!
Bertie Wooster: Well, h-h-he said it with a light laugh.
Madeline Bassett: No.
Bertie Wooster: Well, you might not have noticed it. Very easy to miss these light laughs.

Sir Watkyn Bassett: Perhaps you have hidden depths, Wooster, is that it?
Bertie Wooster: I don't think so. No one's ever mentioned it, anyway.

["Oh By Jingo"]
Bertie Wooster: Oh by gee by gosh by gum by Jove!
Roderick Spode: Oh by Jove, oh by Jove, oh by Jove!
Bertie Wooster: Oh By Jingo, won't you hear our love?
Madeline Bassett: Will you kindly raise your voice?
Roderick Spode, Stiffy Byng, Rev. Stinker Pinker: Louder!
Sir Watkyn Bassett: We will build for you a hut!
Major Plank, Chief Toto: Yes!
Roderick Spode: You will be our favourite nut!
Major Plank, Chief Toto: Correct!
Bertie Wooster: We'll have a lot of little oh-by-Joveses!
Jeeves: Dress them up in clogs and clotheses.
Bertie Wooster: Oh By Jingo said by gosh by gee!
Major Plank, Chief Toto: G, A, B, C, D, E, stop!
Madeline Bassett: Oh by jiminy, please don't bother me!
Roderick Spode, Major Plank, Chief Toto: Bother her, bother her!
Bertie Wooster: So they all went away, saying
All: Oh by gee by gosh by gum by Oh By Jingo, by gee, you're the only one for me!
Jeeves: Bring me lobster on a clean plate!

The Ties That Bind [4.6]

[edit]
Bertie Wooster: Ha! Do you ever feel like throwing open the window and shouting that the world is a wonderful place, Jeeves?
Jeeves: Erm... no, sir.
Bertie Wooster: Or dancing in the street, scattering petals on the passers-by?
Jeeves: Only infrequently, sir.

Bertie Wooster: Good Lord! Ginger Winship!
Ginger Winship: Bertie! Nice to see you!
Bertie Wooster: You down here for the wedding?
Ginger Winship: No, no. There's a by-election. I'm standing for Parliament.
Bertie Wooster: No!
Ginger Winship: I am!
Bertie Wooster: But you're an absolute idiot, Ginger!
Ginger Winship: I know!

Bertie Wooster: Something up with the bath?
Jeeves: The water appears reluctant to drain, sir.
Bertie Wooster: Oh. Pulled the plug out, have you?
Jeeves: That was amongst the first things I thought of, sir.

Bertie Wooster: Yes, well I'm sorry, Ginger, but there's a snag here. I expect you've spotted it.
Ginger Winship: Florence.
Bertie Wooster: Well done.
Ginger Winship: No, it's all right. I'm going to get Florence to break our engagement.
Bertie Wooster: No, no, no, no, no! Ginger, let's not be hasty!
Ginger Winship: I'm going to lose the election.
Bertie Wooster: How? The voters of Totleigh-in-the-Wold would elect Bobsey the cloth-eared bunny rabbit if he was wearing a blue rosette.

[Bertie sits in his bedroom while Jeeves cleans in the adjacent bathroom]
Bertie Wooster: Who was that fellow with the circles, Jeeves?
Jeeves: 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.
Bertie Wooster: That's the chap. Well, those fellows he bumped into had it easy.
Jeeves: One could beg to take issue with you there, sir.
Bertie Wooster: Were any of them engaged to marry Florence Craye?
Jeeves: The poet makes no mention of it, sir.
Bertie Wooster: Or condemned to stand, whey-faced and trembling, at the altar steps while Madeline Bassett advanced on them, up the aisle, on the arm of her father?
Jeeves: Indeed not, sir.
Bertie Wooster: Well, it had to happen to somebody one day, I suppose. And it happened to me today. Fate has dealt me the royal flush, Jeeves: I'm engaged to Madeline Bassett and Lady Florence at the same time.
[Jeeves immediately stops cleaning and enters the bedroom]
Jeeves: Oh. [pause] Oh dear, sir.

Madeline Bassett: [about Bertie] I think he's having a brainstorm!
Aunt Agatha: What with?

[Bertie has pretended to faint]
Madeline Bassett: We should loosen his collar.
Jeeves: I hardly think such drastic measures are called for, Miss Bassett.
[edit]