Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Jimmy, I'd like you to have this hand-delivered for me.

<i>- ♪ Alas, you're benighted</i> - Shh!

<i>♪ Faint melodies bring back old days</i>

Shields clash and swords do their terrible work.

he'd cut me off.

- Thank you, Mr Bayfield. - Hmm?

Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds,

- Please come in. - Thank you so much.

Look what he's done, Bunny. Aren't you going to chastise him?

- Congratulations, Madam Florence. - Oh, thank you, Kitty.

I don't have an answer, Bunny. I wish I did.

Let's get you home.

- And he also composes. - Yes, I'm sure he does.

Well, it jolly well was. Now...

Breathe. Breathe, Florence.

howling like a Doberman as we speak.

The voice is in the mask.

Come on, you're gonna play at Carnegie Hall.

I'd be mortified if Madam Florence become the focus of any envy.

<i>♪ Like a bird</i>

Oh, really? And what reputation is that?

I shall say, "Florence, although you pay the rent on my apartment,

- It should not be mocked. - How dare you?

Bravo, Madam Florence! Bravo!

Well, he wasn't on the legitimate line.

Now, Florence, that's really not a good idea.

Colonel, you'll forgive me. I must prepare.

- Actually delicious. - Excellent. How do I look?

<i>♪ 'Twould be a sacrilege to sing</i>

<i>♪ Calls up the joys of les nuits d'antan</i>

As for her subglottal pressure... it defies medical science.

It was, it was, it was. We must... We must do it again.

Here... We're going to make a recording.

Well, I'm afraid we're giving priority to Verdi Club members at the moment.

Singing at Carnegie Hall is her dream.

Someone young. Someone... with passion.

She's given a thousand tickets to the War Veterans Association.

- Will you be writing something? - Yes, and it will be the truth.

Open the door at once!

So, can I get that ticket?

- A month? - A week.

Well, Mr McMoon, we did it.

<i>♪ To you</i>

Thank you for your understanding, Mr Thackrey. Thank you so much.

- She might change her mind, you know. - No, I very much doubt that.

I don't... I don't feel very well, Whitey.

That you encouraged Mrs Jenkins to make a spectacle of herself

- I'm virtually off score. - Good. Then let's get started.

- Get out of bed. Out of bed. Up. - What?

- You stay where you are. - This is all a little awkward.

Is everything alright, Mr Bayfield?

Really? Well, you're very welcome. You have a drink?

- We will, St Clair. - Fingers crossed.

Surely you can see I'm devoted to Florence.

It sure is, Madam Florence. I'm not surprised. You're the talk of the town.

A great and devoted family. United by our love of music.

I just think this might be too much for you.

<i>♪ Elle passe sans bruit</i>

Please, Cosmé.

<i>♪ No lady's maid could be full of so much grace, you see</i>

It's very, very nice of you. Get rid of it.

I didn't have time to look at your medical notes.

I have several patients who observe the five-year rule,

Don't let anyone in who's drunk.

Oh, thank goodness you're here, Mr Bayfield.

But as Beethoven said, a few wrong notes may be forgiven,

Sing! Sing! Sing! Sing!

that the piece will be in the afternoon edition, so...

Expand your diaphragm, Florence.

Thank you, Doctor.

Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night,

<i>♪ Calls up the joys of les nuits d'antan</i>