Jeeves and Wooster

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 kn

Jeeves and Wooster, CC BY-SA 4.0

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 t

Jeeves and Wooster, CC BY-SA 4.0

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.

Jeeves and Wooster, CC BY-SA 4.0

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.

Jeeves and Wooster, CC BY-SA 4.0

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.

Jeeves and Wooster, CC BY-SA 4.0

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.

Jeeves and Wooster, CC BY-SA 4.0