Rumpole of the Bailey

Rumpole of the Bailey is a British television series created and written by the British writer and barrister John Mortimer. It starred Leo McKern as Horace Rumpole, a middle-aged London barrister who defended a broad variety of clients, often underdogs. The popularity of the TV series led to the stories being presented in other media, including books and radio.

Lawyers and tarts, Miss Trant, the two oldest professions in the world, and we always aim to please!

Quotes

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Horace Rumpole: [of his wife, Hilda] She who must be obeyed.
Taken from H. Rider Haggard's She (1886; 1887)

Horace Rumpole: [of Phyllida] The Portia of our Chambers.

Season 1

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1. Rumpole and the Younger Generation

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Nick Rumpole [to his father, Horace]: Go on, Watson, you interest me strangely.

Fred Timson: It's, uh, young Jim's first, uh, appearance, like, at the Bailey.
Horace Rumpole: [to himself] Ah, his Bar Mitzvah, his First Communion!

Mr Justice Everglade: I imagine your client says he was not ejusdem generis with the other lads.
Horace Rumpole: Ejusdem generis, my Lord? Oh yes, he's always saying that. Ejusdem generis is a phrase in constant use in his part of Brixton.

2. Rumpole and the Alternative Society

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Horace Rumpole: [describing his marriage] I had no choice in the matter at all. I was called up to marriage like military service. Her father was head of chambers. He gave me to understand what was expected of me.

Bobby Dogherty: He says you'll find lime juice and soda has a potent little kick in it.
Horace Rumpole: The kick of a mouse in carpet slippers, I should imagine.

3. Rumpole and the Honourable Member

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Rumpole: [to himself] Go into court on a rape — it's like stepping into a refrigerator with the light off. All the men are thinking of their daughters; all the women are sitting with their knees jammed together!

Hilda Rumpole: You know why Erica went home, don't you? ... She didn't much like the questions that you asked in court; she thought they were tasteless.
Horace Rumpole: Distasteful.
Hilda Rumpole: What?
Horace Rumpole: That's the word: distasteful. They have trouble with English, you know.

4. Rumpole and the Married Lady

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Horace Rumpole: Lawyers and tarts, Miss Trant, the two oldest professions in the world, and we always aim to please!

Horace Rumpole: An Englishman's gin bottle is his castle.

Phyllida Trant: We don't have to prove cruelty, do we, Mr Rumpole? It's "intolerable conduct" since the Divorce Law Reform Act, 1969.
Horace Rumpole: [to himself] It's not the frivolity that makes women intolerable. It's the ghastly enthusiasm — that mustard keenness to get into the lacrosse team, that relentless drive to learn the Divorce Law Reform Act by heart. That, and the French perfume.

Hilda Rumpole: You're going to seed. You can't even keep a divorce case going.
Horace Rumpole: [to Hilda] Do you know why my divorce case collapsed under me? The clients were reconciled. [to himself] Because how ever awful it is, how ever silent and unendurable it is, how ever much they may hate each others' guts over the three-piece chintz-covered lounge suite, they can't stand to be alone. [to Hilda] Isn't that strange, Hilda? They'd rather have war together than a lonely peace.

5. Rumpole and the Learned Friends

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Horace Rumpole: The flu is a disease with endless possibilities.

[Rumpole is ill in bed and Hilda is taking his temperature]
Hilda Rumpole: Rumpole, you're not normal.
Horace Rumpole: I'm dying.
Hilda Rumpole: Nonsense! What did Doctor Hanson say it was?
Horace Rumpole: Death. He says there's a lot of it about.

[Rumpole's illness is interrupted by news of a safe-blowing case]
Hilda Rumpole: I thought you were dying.
Horace Rumpole: Dying will have to be postponed. Safe-blowing comes first.

[Guthrie Featherstone is leading Rumpole in the case]
Guthrie Featherstone: Of course I'll mitigate.
Horace Rumpole: Mitigate? "My Lord, my client only went in to buy a seven-penny stamp. But as he was kept waiting by ten old ladies with pension books, he lost his patience and blew the safe."

Horace Rumpole: I'm not exactly doing your case.
Charlie Wheeler: Oh, you're not?
Horace Rumpole: No, your case is being handled by Mr. Guthrie Featherstone, QC, MP, whose name is constantly mentioned in the corridors of power.

Horace Rumpole: Here, I give you a toast. Here's to our future.
Hilda Rumpole: The future!
Horace Rumpole: Which now shows every sign of being exactly like our past.
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