Plunkett & Macleane Page #2

All of this is business.

I wouldn't be seen

dead with you otherwise.

Wanker.

Oi! Catch.

Spend it wisely.

- So, who are we looking for?

- Old friend. Knows everyone.

Oi! Ten says the black kills the white.

- Rochester!

- Hello. You're looking rather dashing.

- Last I heard...

- Yes?

...you were in the vagrant cage. Again.

Vicious rumour.

I have rooms at the Athena.

Really? Hm.

I must come up and see you sometime.

Still swinging both ways, Rochester?

Jamie...

...I swing every way!

Twenty to one, then?

Well, hello. And who is this

delightful piece of rough?

- My man.

- Really?

Don't you just love a juicy cockfight?

Hm?

Oh, please.

Ten guineas, I believe.

- Did you know something I didn't?

- I know everything.

- So where's the game tonight then?

- Chez moi.

And do bring your man

along with you, won't you?

Home, please, and don't spare the horses.

- F***!

- Oh!

Bad luck, Jamie.

Mm! I win. I win.

Again.

There you are, my darling.

Have a chocolate.

Not your night, Jamie, hm?

I'll win it back.

So, who else does

fortune favour this evening?

Apart from yourself, that is.

The Lord Chief Justice Gibson.

It's my impression that

his opponents always let him win.

I wonder why.

Is he filthy rich or stinking rich?

F***ing rich.

Well, hello.

Do excuse me.

Winty, Dixie, how was your concert?

- F***ing magic!

- Hang on...

- You are not a gentleman.

- I'm sorry?

No gentleman would stare

at a lady like that in public.

I do beg your pardon.

Captain James Macleane at your service.

Oh.

So you are a gentleman.

- Yes.

- What a shame.

- Jamie...

- Who was that?

Lady Rebecca Gibson.

Very choice.

Very choosy.

Ooh, I'd like to introduce you

to some of my chums. Come on.

- All right.

- Geezer.

- Nicely.

- Aren't they dear?

So who's the big prize?

Tonight's big winner, for your information,

is the Lord Chief Justice.

He'll be in the park

within the hour. West gate.

Good luck.

No, we do this bit together.

Let's go.

God Almighty, Rebecca.

Lord Sibley's rich, well-proportioned.

He sends me to sleep.

Well, I dare say he'd keep you awake

if you'd give him half the chance.

That's very funny,

but he makes my flesh crawl.

My dear, do you think the human race

would continue to reproduce itself...

...if it worried about such silly things, hm?

Stand and deliver!

Oh.

Move!

Move it, fat boy. Out!

- Out!

- This is preposterous.

You, out!

- Do you know who I am?

- Yeah. Fill it.

- I'll see you hanged.

- Oh, yeah?

Get back. Watch his face,

you vicious b*tch.

Deal with her!

That's really no way to talk to a lady.

Please accept my most humble apologies...

...for this terrible and unnecessarily

violent inconvenience.

Would you kindly remove your valuables?

The, er...

- Take it.

- We don't need it.

- I'll take it.

- All right!

Take it! Hurry up!

I'm sorry. Agh!

I'm never bloody doing that again.

- I was blinded by you.

- Oh, shut up.

What...? Wait!

"Late last night the Lord Chief Justice's

coach was held up in Hyde Park. "

"Lord Gibson and his ward and niece,

Lady Rebecca, were robbed of monies...

"One of the two highwaymen

acted with such curious civility...

...as to raise suspicion

he might be a gentleman. "

Might be, could be,

but definitely is a tosser.

Surely, Mr Speaker, when the Lord Chief

Justice himself is the victim of robbery...

...the time has come for legislation.

The present system is no system at all.

We need a Police Act now.

I'm obliged to the Honourable gentleman

for raising this important matter...

...but, as usual, he evades the issue.

I assume, Mr Speaker,

that the Lord Chief Justice...

...is referring, in his customary

cheeseparing manner...

Cheeseparing!

Sir, hang the expense!

The issue is freedom.

With a government-controlled police force,

freedom is a lamb led to the slaughter.

We all know what you're interested in,

and it certainly isn't freedom!

Order!

Are you never without your Bible,

Mr Chance?

It's a great consolation to me

in these wicked times.

The prime minister wishes to know how

soon you can catch these highwaymen.

Very soon, given adequate means.

Mr Chance, may I ask you

in the strictest confidence...

What is your opinion

of the Lord Chief Justice?

A fine man and a worthy master.

But?

Well, since you press me...

...I must be frank. I think he's tired.

The job needs someone more energetic...

...with an ear closer to the ground.

You know, I do hate to be critical...

The prime minister

likes to be kept informed.

- Go on, say it.

- Say what?

- Six-nil.

- That's right.

Don't worry, old man.

You'll get the hang of it.

Hand up.

Just one thing. When I...

Nice bit of lunch.

They'll all be there, you know.

Lord Braithwaite...

...one of the richest men in Sussex.

Sir Oliver Potter...

...Mr "Coffee Beans".

Lady Estelle D'Arcy...

...as rich as she is horny.

Do you think this waistcoat

looks well with these breeches?

Absolutely.

Enough information

to keep us going for months.

Hm. And I was thinking

the blue silk coat as well, yeah?

Exactly.

And remember...

...this is work, not pleasure.

Pleasure.

What's that?

Marvellous.

Well, hello!

- Dixie!

- Right.

Winty!

- You remember Jamie Macleane?

- Definitely.

Dixon and Winterburn

are renowned for their parties.

- Get out of 'ere!

- It's true.

- Stop it, go on.

- Shall we?

Run away. Behave.

The Earl of

Rochester and Captain James Macleane.

Beautiful diction. Hello.

- Hello.

- The Earl of Lancashire...

Hello, ladies. How are you, hm?

Ladies.

You've turned out very nicely.

- Fancy your chances?

- Please!

Lady Estelle D'Arcy.

Owns half of England.

Hello.

- It's the ungentlemanly gentleman.

- Yes.

- Still staring.

- Apparently so.

I'm Rebecca Gibson.

James Macleane.

- You've hurt your hand.

- You haven't heard?

- No?

- I punched a highwayman.

Good grief. When did that happen?

Last night on our way home

from Rochester's. They stopped our coach.

- How dreadful.

- Actually, I nearly beat them off.

- Really?

- Yes.

Suppose they'll both hang sooner or later.

So if you're not a gentleman,

what are you?

- What would you like me to be?

- I'd like you to be what you are.

Have we met before, sir?

No, but I have a very familiar face...

...and voice and physique.

Captain James Macleane, Lord Gibson,

my uncle. We met at Rochester's.

- The devil we did.

- Delighted to make your acquaintance.

I suppose he hasn't twopence to rub

together, yet you think he's marvellous.

- Well, he doesn't make my flesh crawl.

- Thank you.

I'm a good judge of character, Macleane.

And in my opinion you're in deficit.

That is to say, I see nothing noteworthy...

...about your physiognomy

or your general appearance.

In summary,

I don't like the cut of your jib.

Good night to you, sir. Rebecca.

Rebecca!

- What happened to your lip?

- My horse threw me.

Good night.

Jib!

- Good evening, Lady Rebecca.

- Mr Chance.

You look enchanting as ever.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes