Three Men in a Boat

JEROME:
The chief beauty of this work

lies not so much in its style,

or in the extent and usefulness

of the information it conveys,

as in its simple truthfulness.

It forms a record of events

that really happened.

Other works may excel this

in depth of thought

and knowledge of human nature,

but for hopeless and incurable veracity,

nothing yet discovered can surpass it.

(INDISTINCT CHATTERING)

There were four of us.

George and William Samuel Harris

and myself and Montmorency.

We were sitting in my room, smoking

and talking about how bad we were.

Bad from a medical point of view,

I mean, of course.

With me, it's giddiness.

- It's giddiness with me, too.

- Hmm.

Sometimes I have such extraordinary

fits of giddiness,

- I hardly know what I'm doing.

- I hardly know what I'm doing, too,

I have such extraordinary

fits of giddiness.

With me, it's my liver

that's out of order.

Oh, how do you know?

Well, I've been reading this patent

liver-pill circular which sets out

the various symptoms by which a man

can tell when his liver is out of order.

I have them all,

including what it calls "a general

disinclination to work of any kind".

I've got that, too.

I've been a martyr to it

since earliest boyhood.

- I was born with it.

- They didn't know it was my liver.

Course, medical science was in

a far less advanced state than now.

They used to give me a clump

on the side of the head.

- Didn't do any good.

- My whole body, you know...

We sat there describing to each other

our maladies.

I explained to George and Harris

how I felt when I got up in the morning.

And Harris told us how he felt

when he went to bed.

And George stood on the hearth rug

and gave us a clever and powerful

piece of acting,

illustrative of how he felt

in the night.

George fancies he is ill,

but there's never anything

really the matter with him.

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

Mrs Poppets.

(EXHALING) Supper?

I suppose one should try.

A cousin of mine who

is usually described on the charge-sheet

as a medical student once told me

that something in the stomach

often keeps disease in check.

Steak and onions, and rhubarb pie.

Hmm.

What we need is a rest.

Rest and a complete change.

Leave the 19th century behind,

seek out some quaint, forgotten nook.

Far from the madding crowd,

half as old as time.

- What we need is a sea trip.

- No, no, no.

- I remember once...

- Not now, old chap.

Why don't we go up the river?

Fresh air, the changing scene

will occupy our minds,

including what there is of Harris'.

And the exercise

will make us sleep well.

I agree.

I think it a very sensible idea.

It just goes to show

that you should never write off a man

Just because he's never had

a sensible idea before.

- I propose.

- Second.

- Aye.

- Any against?

(LOW GROWL)

Carried by three to one.

JEROME:
The Thames,

couched in that green and golden valley,

winding and whispering, singing of

strange old tales and secrets

as it flows under the fair canopy of

England sky through England's history.

Our little boat, borne along

on sun-dappled waters,

through shady woods

and blazing fields...

HARRIS:
How about when it rains?

JEROME:
(SIGHING)

That's Harris all over.

When George is hanged, Harris will be

the least romantic man in the world.

We had arranged that George,

who goes to sleep at a bank

from 10 till four every day

except Saturday,

when they wake him up

and put him outside at two,

would join us when we got up the river

to Shepperton.

Meanwhile, Harris and I

and the Gladstone

and the small handbag and the

two hampers and the big roll of rugs

and some overcoats and mackintoshes

and a melon by itself in a bag

and a Japanese umbrella

and a frying pan which wouldn't

go in anywhere and Montmorency

arrived on our way

to the Kingston train.

The 11:
05 for Kingston?

11:
05 for Kingston? Number 2, sir.

Number 2? That's the Windsor Loop.

You want Number 1, sir.

Number 1 is the Reigate Stopping,

so I hear.

- The 11:
05 for Kingston?

- Oh, yes, indeed.

Well, I was just talking to a man

who said he'd seen it on Number 3.

He was almost positive about that.

Otherwise, there's a body of opinion

which leans toward the eye-level

platform for the Kingston train.

Though, in my opinion, sir,

that is the Southampton Express.

- They don't know, sir. You follow me.

- Thank you.

Monty, come along.

I'm sorry to trouble you.

But are you the 11...

(STEAM HISSING LOUDLY)

...the 11:
05 for Kingston?

Couldn't rightly say.

I might be and then again

I might not be.

If I'm not, I'm the 9:32

for Virginia Water,

or the Guilford local.

Could you please be

the 11:
05 for Kingston?

Well, some train's

got to go to Kingston, innit?

Thank you very kindly, sir.

11:
05 to Kingston it is.

Thank you very much.

This is the Exeter mail, apparently.

Well, it might be.

Then again, it might not.

(TRAIN WHISTLE BLOWING)

And so the railway system

which has made England the envy

of the world brought us to Kingston.

And at 12... 00, with our luggage stowed

and Montmorency unhappy

and deeply suspicious in the prow,

out we rode onto the waters

which were to be our home.

We hoped up as far as Oxford,

though the possibilities for digression

along the Thames are infinite.

We had barely started

when Harris was minded to enquire

whether I'd ever been

to Hampton Court Maze.

- Ever been to Hampton Court Maze, J?

- No.

Harris said he went in once

to show a country cousin the way.

Harris said he went in once

to show a country cousin the way.

He had studied it up on a map.

HARRIS:
We'll just go in so you can say

you've been, but it's very simple.

Absurd to call it a maze, really.

Uh, we'll walk around for 10 minutes

and then go get some lunch, all right?

(CLEARING THROAT) Well...

They met some people

soon after they got inside

who'd been in there

for three-quarters of an hour.

- Morning.

- Morning.

Want to get it over with?

You can follow me if you like.

- I'm going in and coming out again.

- That's very kind of you, sir.

Everybody's welcome.

Just keep turning to the left.

Thank God you've come, sir.

- We'd just about given up hope, sir.

- This way.

And bit by bit, they picked up

all the people who were in the maze,

including a woman with a baby

who'd been in there all morning

and insisted on taking Harris' arm

for fear of losing him.

Turn left, round here.

(ALL CHATTERING)

This way.

Harris kept turning to the left.

This way!

(BABY CRYING)

I suppose it's a very big maze.

Yes, yes, one of the largest in Europe.

Yes, it must be. Because we've walked

a good two miles already.

Mmm.

This way!

(BABY WAILING)

This way!

Harris began to think it rather strange

himself, but he held on until...

Here, we passed that biscuit

10 minutes ago.

Impossible.

Yes, we did. It's Albert's.

I saw him drop it down.

Well, according to the map...

I wish I'd never met you.

All right!

We'll go back to the entrance

and start again from there.

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