Albert Nobbs

- Evening, Mr. Nobbs.

- Miss Dawes.

- Good evening, Albert.

- Mrs. Baker, ma'am.

All right, girls,

no finger marks

on the knife blades, please.

What?

Well, Helen Dawes,

what are you grinning about?

Nothing, Mrs. Baker.

Sorry, Mrs. Baker.

Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Moore.

Your table awaits.

Thank you.

What sweet roses, Nobbs.

You always remember.

Madam.

- Milady.

- Good evening, Mrs. Baker.

Such a kind little man.

- Who?

- Nobbs.

Oh, right.

- You look gorgeous.

- Thank you.

What do you say,

the lamb or the beef?

Do you think we'll be able

to tell the difference?

Good evening.

Dr. Holloran.

Follow me.

There now.

Thank you.

Have the lamb, Dr. Holloran.

It will melt in your mouth.

The lamb it shall be, Duchess.

Sean, Dr. Holloran will take the lamb.

Yes, ma'am.

- Will you have the soup?

- I won't, thank you.

Sean.

- There's a stain on your tie.

- Ma'am?

Have a care, Sean.

Last week it was the jacket,

tonight the tie.

- Yes, ma'am, I'm sorry.

- Remember, there are hundreds,

hundreds of young men

walking the streets of Dublin

looking for work.

Young men, Sean.

Good man, Nobbs.

- Oh! Monsieur et Madame!

- Madame.

Toute suite, monsieur.

Patrick.

- My lordship.

- Mrs. Baker.

Terribly sorry.

I know. We're late,

but could you forgive us

just this once?

- We're simply famished.

- Of course.

Aubrey insisted we walk

all the way from Ballsbridge.

Well, milady, there's nothing

like a brisk walk

for giving a body an appetite.

Come along now,

your table is set and waiting.

Tell me, how is your mother,

dear Lady Yarrell?

Tip-top, Mrs. B, tip-top.

I certainly hope she will come

and visit us soon.

She'd be delighted, I'm sure.

So sorry, dear lady.

No bother at all, Mr. Smythe-Willard.

To be sure.

My friends, we do apologize.

Now, drinks.

Albert.

Bunny, you're a featherbrain.

No, he's not, he's brilliant.

Do your Clara Westfield.

Dudley, Dudley, call the brigade!

My hair's on fire!

My hair's on fire!

A long old day, Mr. Nobbs.

Well...

I wouldn't say no to a nightcap now,

sure I wouldn't.

Only I haven't a drop left, me self.

Good night, Mr. Casey.

Mr. Nobbs.

Half a crown from Mrs. Moore,

sixpence from the doctor,

tuppence...

Monsieur Pigot.

Thruppence, Mrs. Cavendish,

when I brought her stationery.

Another thruppence from what's-his-name,

the Viscount's friend.

Tenner from the Viscount

and another from his missus.

Two-and-six, and six and two is eight,

and three is eleven,

three is one-and-two,

six is one-and-eight,

six is two-and-two, that's...

four shillings, eight pence.

Ah, Mr. Gilligan, Madam, so good

to have had you with us again.

I hope your stay was satisfactory?

Yes. Perfectly fine. Thank you.

- For God's sake, man!

- I'm sorry, sir!

Look what you've done. You've ruined

my boots, defaced my luggage.

I've never seen such

blatant incompetence.

Are you all right, my dear?

Does that look all right to you?

Where's the manager?

Where's that fool Sweeney?

I'm very sorry, sir.

Yes, yes, everyone's sorry!

It's outrageous ineptitude.

Clean up the mess

you've made of my boots.

I won't patronize

this establishment again

and I will urge my friends

and acquaintances to do the same,

if you keep this man

in your employ.

Yes, Mr. Gilligan, sir.

- Dismiss him immediately.

- Sir, I was...

- Now!

- Yes, sir.

Fine.

Give us the marmalade there,

Mr. Donaghue.

- It's the marmalade.

- The marmalade, Patrick.

Will you pass the marmalade

to Mr. Casey?

Always on Tuesdays,

if I recall correctly.

Thank you, Mr. Nobbs.

- God, but isn't he a smasher?

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