Black Adder the Third

Blackadder:
I have come up with a plan so cunning you could stick a tail on it and call it a weasel.

Baldrick:
Morning, Mr. B.

Blackadder:
Leave me alone, Baldrick. If I wanted to talk to a vegetable, I would have bought one at the market.

Prince George:
What can I do to a woman that I can't do to you?

Blackadder:
I cannot conceive, sir.

Baldrick:
[Blackadder slams the door] Something wrong, Mr. B?

Blackadder:
Oh, something's *always* wrong, Balders... the fact that I'm not a millionaire aristocrat, with the sexual capacity of a rutting rhino, is a constant niggle.

Blackadder:
Baldrick, have you no idea what "irony" is?

Baldrick:
Yes, it's like "goldy" and "bronzy" only it's made out of iron.

Josiah Hardwood:
I'd no more place my daughter in the hands of an unworthy man than I'd place my john thomas in the hands of a lunatic with a pair of scissors.

Blackadder:
Have you ever been to Wales, Baldrick?

Baldrick:
No, but I've often thought I'd like to.

Blackadder:
Well don't. It's a ghastly place. Huge gangs of tough, sinewy men roam the Valleys, terrorizing people with their close-harmony singing. You need half a pint of phlegm in your throat just to pronounce the place names. Never ask for directions in Wales, Baldrick. You'll be washing spit out of your hair for a fortnight.

Blackadder:
Well go out into the street and hire me a horse.

Baldrick:
Hire you a horse? For ninepence? On Jewish New Year in the rain? A bare fortnight after the dreaded horse plague of Old London Town? With the blacksmith's strike in its 15th week and the Dorset Horse Fetishist's Fair tomorrow?

Blackadder:
If you can't make money you'll have to marry it.

Prince George:
Marry? Never! I'm a gay bachelor, Blackadder. I'm a roarer, a rogerer, a gorger, and a puker. I can't marry. I'm young, I'm firm buttocked, I'm, I'm...

Blackadder:
Broke.

Prince George:
Well, yes, I suppose.

Blackadder:
And don't forget, sir, that the modern church smiles on roaring and gorging within wedlock. And indeed rogering is keenly encouraged.

Prince George:
And the puking?

Blackadder:
I believe it is still very much down to the conscience of the individual church-goer.

[trying to find a bride for the Prince]

Blackadder:
Of the 262 princesses in Europe, 165 are over 80 - they're out - 47 are under 10 - they're out - and 39 are mad.

Baldrick:
They sound ideal.

Blackadder:
They would be if they hadn't all got married last week in Munich to the same horse.

Blackadder:
She is famous for having the worst personality in Germany and, as you can imagine, that's up against some pretty stiff competition.

Blackadder:
Mrs. M, if we were the last three humans on earth, I would be trying to start a family with Baldrick.

Blackadder:
Sir. I come as emissary of his highness the Prince of Wales with the most splendid of news. He wants your lovely daughter for his wife.

Josiah Hardwood:
[disgusted] Well his wife can't have her. It's outrageous that you should come here with such a suggestion. [rises angrily] Mind sir or I shall take off my belt and by thunder, me trousers will fall down.

[Blackadder is about to leave for the West Indies]

Baldrick:
I still can't believe you're leaving me behind.

Blackadder:
Oh don't you worry. When we're established on our plantation in Barbados I'll send for you. No more sad little London for you Balders. From now on you will stand out in life as an individual.

Baldrick:
Will I?

Blackadder:
Indeed. All the other slaves will be black.

Blackadder:
Oh, God. What a way to die. Shot by a transvestite on a unrealistic grassy knoll.

Prince George:
Right, so what's the plan?

Blackadder:
Well I thought I could take her a short note, expressing your honourable intentions.

Prince George:
Yes, yes. I think so too. All right then, well take this down; From His Royal Highness The Prince of Wales to Miss Amy Hardwood:

Prince George:
Tally ho, my fine saucy young trollop! Trip along here with all your cash and some naughty night attire, and you'll be staring at my bedroom ceiling from now until Christmas, you lucky tart! Yours, with the deepest respect etc. Signed, George. P.S. Woof, woof!

Prince George:
Well, what do you think?

Blackadder:
It's very moving sir. Would you mind if I changed just one tiny aspect of it?

Prince George:
Which one?

Blackadder:
The words.

Prince George:
Oh yes, I'll leave the details to you, Blackadder. Just make sure she knows I'm all man, with a bit of animal thrown in! Rawr!

Blackadder:
Certainly sir.

Blackadder:
Bills, bills, bills. One is born, one runs up bills, one dies. What have I got to show for it? Nothing. A butler's uniform and a slightly effeminate hairdo. Sometimes I feel like a pelican - whichever way I turn I still have an enormous bill in front of me.

Baldrick:
[referring to Caroline of Brunswick] And what's wrong with her?

Blackadder:
[rises, suddenly shouting, pretending to be Caroline of Brunswick] Get more coffee! It's horrid, change it! Take me roughly from behind! No, not like that, like this! Trousers off, tackle out! Walk the dog! Where's my present?

Baldrick:
[very shaken by this outburst] All right! Which one do you want me to do first?

Blackadder:
If I want to get rich quick, all I have to do is go upstairs and ask Prince Fathead for a rise.

[Bell Rings]

Blackadder:
Oh... Bank's open.

Sally Cheapside:
Honestly Papa. Ever since mother died you've tried to stop me growing up. I'm not a little , I'm a grown woman. In fact I might as well tell you now Papa: I'm pregnant, and I'm an opium fiend, and I'm in love with a poet named Shelley who's a famous whoopsy, and Mother didn't die, I killed her!

The Duke of Cheapside:
Oh [Cheerily] well, never mind.

Blackadder:
[Off screen] Stand and Deliver! [the coach starts to pull up]

The Duke of Cheapside:
Oh no! Oh no no no no no, disaster! It's the shadow. We're doomed, doomed!

Blackadder:
[Draws up outside the carriage window] Ah good evening Duke, and the lovely Miss Cheapside. Your cash bags please. [the Duke hands him a bag of money] There we are.

The Duke of Cheapside:
You'll never get away with this, you scoundrel, you'll be caught and damn well hung!

Sally Cheapside:
[to camera] I think he looks pretty well...

Blackadder:
Madam, please no jests about me looking pretty well hung already, we have no time.

Sally Cheapside:
Pity.

Sally Cheapside:
Highwayman, I also have a jewel. I fear however that I have placed it here, beneath my petticoats, for protection

Blackadder:
Well in that case madam, I think I'll leave it. I'm not sure I fancy the idea of a jewel that's been in someone's pants. A single kiss of those soft lips is all I require.

The Duke of Cheapside:
Never sir! A man's soft lips are his own private kingdom. I shall defend them with my life.

Blackadder:
I'm not talking to you, Grandad.

Sally Cheapside:
[kisses him long and hard] Oh, I'm overcome. Take me with you to live the life of the wild rogue, cuddling under haystacks and making love in the branches of tall trees!

Blackadder:
Madam, sadly I must decline. I fear my horse would collapse with you on top of him as well as me!

Baldrick:
[appears next to Blackadder, wearing his harness] I could try!

Blackadder:
No Quicksilver, you couldn't.

Baldrick:
But that's not fair then. I've had you on my back for ten miles and I haven't even got a kiss out of it.

Blackadder:
Oh alright, very well then. [kisses Baldrick] All fair now?

Baldrick:
Not really, no.

Blackadder:
Teh, no pleasing some horses. Hi-ho Quicksilver.

Baldrick:
Neiighh!

Sally Cheapside:
[accusingly] Papa, you did nothing to defend my honour.

The Duke of Cheapside:
Oh shut your face, you pregnant junky fag-hag!

Blackadder:
There are only two princesses in Europe available. The first is Grand Duchess Sophia of Turin. We'll never get her to marry him.

Baldrick:
Why not?

Blackadder:
Because she's met him.

Blackadder:
The important thing is that they must not be alone together before the wedding.

Baldrick:
That's not really fair to her, is it?

Blackadder:
It's not really fair on him, either. The girl is wetter than a haddock's bathing costume.

Prince George:
Ah, brekkers! I could eat 14 trays of it this morning and still have room for a dolphin on toast.

Blackadder:
Any particular reason for this gluttinous levity, sir?

Prince George:
Well, what do you think, Black Adder? I'm in love. I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love. Oh, Amy, bless all ten of your tiny little pinkies.

Pitt the Younger:
I intend to put my own brother up as a candidate against you.

Blackadder:
And which Pitt would this be? Pitt the Toddler? Pitt the Embryo? Pitt the Glint in the Milkman's Eye?

Blackadder:
[Baldrick is applying for Parliament] Minimum bribe level?

Baldrick:
One turnip. Oh, hang on, I don't want to price myself out of the market.

Vincent Hanna:
Master William Pitt, the Even Younger, are you disappointed?

Pitt the Even Younger:
Yes I'm horrified. I smeared my opponents, bribed the press to be on my side, and threatened to torture the electorate if we lost. I fail to see what a more decent politician would have done.

Vincent Hanna:
Well can you at least tell me one thing. What does the 'S' in his name stand for?

Blackadder:
Sod off.

Vincent Hanna:
Well. I guess it's none of my business really.

Pitt the Younger:
Mr. Speaker, Members of the House, I shall be brief, as I have rather unfortunately become Prime Minister right in the middle of my exams.

Pitt the Younger:
I now call on the Leader of the Opposition to test me on my Latin vocab.

Blackadder:
If you want something done properly, kill Baldrick before you start.

Prince George:
You know, Blackadder, for me socks are like sex. Tons of it about and I never seem to get any.

Blackadder:
Right. Now all we have to do is fill in this MP application form. Name: Baldrick. First name...?

Baldrick:
Er, I'm not sure.

Blackadder:
Well, you must have some idea...

Baldrick:
Well, it might be Sod off.

Blackadder:
What?

Baldrick:
Well, when I used to play in the gutter, I used to say to the other snipes, "Hello, my name's Baldrick," and they'd say, "Yes, we know. Sod off, Baldrick."

Blackadder:
All right, right right right right, Mr. S. Baldrick. Now; distinguishing features... None.

Baldrick:
Well, I've got this big growth in the middle of my face.

Blackadder:
That's your nose, Baldrick. Now; any history of insanity in the family? Tell you what, I'll cross out the in. Any history of *sanity* in the family? None whatsoever. Now then; criminal record...

Baldrick:
Absolutely not.

Blackadder:
Oh, come on, Baldrick, you're going to be an MP, for God's sake! I'll just put fraud and sexual deviancy. Now; minimum bribe level...

Baldrick:
One turnip. Oh, hang on, I don't want to price myself out of the market.

Blackadder:
Baldrick, I've always been meaning to ask: Do you have any ambitions in life apart from the acquisition of turnips?

Baldrick:
Er, no.

Blackadder:
So what would you do if I gave you a thousand pounds?

Baldrick:
I'd get a little turnip of my own.

Blackadder:
So what would you do if I gave you a million pounds?

Baldrick:
Oh, that's different. I'd get a great big turnip in the country.

Blackadder:
[someone knocks at the door] Oh God, I'll get that. Here [pushes paper to Baldrick], sign here. [motions where with his hand; Baldrick marks an 'X' on Edmund's palm; Edmund presses his palm against the application]

Blackadder:
Dunny-on-the-Wold is a tuppenny- ha'penny place. Half an acre of sodden marshland in the Suffolk Fens with an empty town hall on it. Population: three rather mangy cows, a dachshund named Colin, and a small hen in its late forties.

Blackadder:
[while slamming Baldrick's head continuously against the table] Give me the bloody money, Baldrick or you're dead.

Baldrick:
[Blackadder stops slamming his head against the table] "Give me the bloody money, Baldrick or you're dead", 'my Lord'.

Blackadder:
[slams Baldrick's head against the table again for one time] Just do it, Baldrick - otherwise I shall further ennoble you by knighting you rather clumsily with this meat-cleaver. [as the second half of Blackadder's two-part sentence reaches its end, Blackadder, grabbing the mentioned meat-cleaver's handle, finishes his sentence by raising the meat-cleaver into view at the same time as saying "...with this meat-cleaver" to show Baldrick what he means by his warning]

Baldrick:
I haven't got it.

Blackadder:
What?

Baldrick:
I spent it.

Blackadder:
You spent it? What could you possibly spend £400 000 on? [Baldrick slowly turns his head with a smile to a massive turnip on the table - Blackadder, upon soon noticing it, instantly has the feeling that the turnip is what Baldrick spent the money on] Oh, no... oh God, don't tell me.

Baldrick:
My dream turnip.

Blackadder:
Baldrick, how did you manage to find a turnip that cost £400 000?

Baldrick:
Well, I had to haggle.

Blackadder:
[slams the turnip over Baldrick's head] This is the worst moment of my entire life - I've spent my last penny on a cat-skin wind-cheater, I've just broken a priceless turnip... [there is a knock at the door followed by shouting] ...And now I'm about to be viciously slaughtered by a naked Tunisian sock merchant. Well, all I can say, Baldrick, is this: it's the last time I dabble in politics...

Blackadder:
[plotting to gain Sir Talbot's support in Parliament] However, if we're going to get him to support us, he will need some sort of incentive.

Prince George:
Hmm, anything in mind?

Blackadder:
Well, you could appoint him a high court judge.

Prince George:
Is he qualified?

Blackadder:
He's a violent, bigoted, mindless old fool.

Prince George:
Sounds a bit over-qualified. Well, get him here at once.

Blackadder:
Certainly, sir. I will return before you can say 'antidisestablishmentarianism.'

Prince George:
Well, I wouldn't be too sure about that! Antidistibilitsmin... anti-misty-linstimbl... anti-stids...

title card:
Two Days Later

Prince George:
Anti-distinctly-minty-monetarism...

[Blackadder enters]

Blackadder:
Your Highness, Sir Talbot Buxomly, MP.

Blackadder:
[Pitt the Younger enters] Oh, good, it's the Lord Privy Toast Rack.

Blackadder:
[enters in a lords gown] My lord.

Prince George:
My Lords.

Blackadder:
Pardon, sir?

Prince George:
My Lords. There is more than one lord in the vicinity. Will you please welcome his Grace, the Lord Baldrick.

[Baldrick enters in his lordly regalia]

Blackadder:
You made BALDRICK a Lord?

Prince George:
Well, yes. One who has recently done sterling service, matching the political machinations of the evil Pitt. Good old Lord Baldrick!

Baldrick:
It's all right Blackadder, you don't have to curtsey or anything.

Blackadder:
Sir, might I let loose a short violent exclamation?

Prince George:
Certainly.

Blackadder:
[Blackadder moves discreetly sideways, then shouts] DAMN!

Prince George:
I say, that's a bit of a strange get up, isn't it Blackadder?

Blackadder:
No sir, I'm just off to a fancy dress party. I'm going as Lady Hamilton's p*ssy.

[he walks towards the door, stops and turns]

Blackadder:
There is one little question, sir. About the ?400 000 to influence the lords...

Prince George:
Ah, yes. I gave that to Lord Baldrick.

Blackadder:
[Looking pleased] Ahh! Sir, might I be permitted to take Lord Baldrick downstairs for some instruction in his lordly duties?

Prince George:
I think that's a splendid idea.

Blackadder:
[to Baldrick] This way, my Lord.

[Leaves with cloak raised, Dracula-esque]

Prince George:
I say, Blackadder, are you sure this is the PM? Seems more like an oily tick to me. When I was at school, we used to line up four or five of his sort, make 'em bend over, and use 'em as a toast rack.

Pitt the Younger:
It doesn't surprise me, sir, I know your sort. Once, it was I who stood in the big, cold schoolroom, a hot crumpet burning my cheeks with shame. Since that day, I have been busy every hour God sent, working to become Prime Minister and fight sloth and privilege wherever I found it.

Blackadder:
[Casually] I trust you weren't too busy to remove the crumpet.

Ivor Biggun:
We're for the compulsory serving of asparagus at breakfast, free corsets for the under-5s and the abolition of slavery.

Vincent Hanna, His Own Great Great Great Grandfather:
I'm sure many moderate people would respect your stand on asparagus, but what about all this extremist nonsense about abolishing slavery?

Ivor Biggun:
Oh, that! We just put that in for a joke! See you next year!

Blackadder:
Sir, may I be allowed a short violent outburst?

Prince George:
Why yes of course.

Blackadder:
DAMN.

Blackadder:
He's madder than Mad Jack McMad, the winner of last year's "Mr. Madman" competition.

Wellington:
What in the name of Bonaparte's balls is this fellow doing?

Blackadder:
I want to be remembered when I'm dead. I want books written about me. I want songs sung about me. And then hundreds of years from now I want episodes of my life to be played out weekly at half past nine by some great heroic actor of the age.

Baldrick:
Yeah, and I could be played by some tiny tit in a beard.

Blackadder:
Quite.

Blackadder:
When will the killing end?

Wellington:
You don't think I too dream of peace? You don't think I too yearn to end this damned dirty job we call soldiering?

Blackadder:
Frankly, No.

King George III:
Some people say I'm mad, and say the word "penguin" after each sentence. But I believe that we two can make Britain great, with you as the Prince Regent, and I as King Penguin.

Prince George:
Please please. You've got to help me. I don't want to die. I've got so much to give. I want more time.

Blackadder:
A poignant plea sir. Enough to melt the stoniest of hearts. But the answer, I'm afraid, must remain: "You're going to die, fat pig."

Prince George:
Oh, wait, wait, wait. I'll give you everything.

Blackadder:
Everything?

Prince George:
Everything.

Blackadder:
The money, the castles, the jewelry?

Prince George:
Yes.

Blackadder:
The highly artistic but also highly illegal set of French lithographs?

Prince George:
Everything.

Blackadder:
The amusing clock where the little man comes out and drops his trousers every half hour?

Prince George:
Yes, yes, all right.

Blackadder:
Very well, I accept. A man may fight for many things: his country, his principles, his friends, the glistening tear on the cheek of a golden child. But personally I'd mud wrestle my own mother for a ton of cash, an amusing clock, and a sack of French porn. You're on.

Prince George:
Hurrah!

Blackadder:
Baldrick, does it have to be this way? Our valued friendship ending with me cutting you into long strips and telling the Prince that you walked over a very sharp cattle grid in an extremely heavy hat?

[in reference to McAdder, Blackadder's Scottish cousin]

Baldrick:
He's the spitting image of you.

Blackadder:
No, he's not! We're about as similar as two completely dis-similar things in a pod.

Prince George:
I spent a night of ecstasy with a pair of Wellingtons and I loved it.

Blackadder:
Fortune vomits on my eiderdown once more.

Prince George:
[the Prince has been shot] I die! I hope men will say of me that I did duty by my country.

Blackadder:
I think that's pretty unlikely, sir. If I were you, I'd try for something a bit more realistic.

Prince George:
Like what?

Blackadder:
Ah, you hope that men will think of you as a bit of a thicky?

Prince George:
All right, I'll hope that.

Baldrick:
Well my cousin Bert Baldrick, Mr Gainsborough's butler's dogsbody, says that he's heard that all portraits look the same these days, 'cause they're painted to a romantic ideal rather than as a true depiction of the idiosycratic facial qualities of the person in question.

Blackadder:
[impressed] Your cousin Bert obviously has a larger vocabulary than you do, Baldrick.

Blackadder:
Ah, Mrs. Miggins. Am I to gather from your look of pie-eyed exhaustion and the globules of porridge hanging off the walls that my cousin McAdder has presented his credentials?

Blackadder:
One point, sir. I should, perhaps, warn you that while duelling I tend to put on my lucky wig and regimental accent.

Wellington:
That won't help you. It would take a homicidal maniac in a claymore and a kilt to get the better of me!

Blackadder:
Well that's handy.

Mad McAdder, Cousin of Edmund Blackadder, Esq:
I hear you have a cunning plan.

Blackadder:
I do, I do. I want you to take the place of the Prince Regent and kill the Duke of Wellington in a duel.

Mad McAdder, Cousin of Edmund Blackadder, Esq:
Aye, and what's in it for me?

Blackadder:
Enough cash to buy the Outer Hebrides. What do you think?

Mad McAdder, Cousin of Edmund Blackadder, Esq:
Fourteen shillings and six-pence? Well, it's tempting. But I've got an even better plan. Why don't I pretend to be the Duke of Wellington and kill the Prince of Wales in a duel? Then I could kill the King and be crowned with the ancient stone bonnet of McAdder.

Blackadder:
Look, for God's sake, McAdder, you're not Rob Roy. You're a top kipper salesman with a reputable firm of Aberdeen fishmongers. Don't throw it all away. If you kill the Prince they'll just send the bailiffs round and arrest you.

Prince George:
Perhaps this disgusting fellow is some sort of blessing in disguise.

Blackadder:
If he is, it's a very good disguise.

Prince George:
After all, did the Lord not send Moses a lowly earthworm to comfort him in his torment?

Blackadder:
Nope.

Prince George:
Well, it's the sort of thing he might have done.

Prince George:
It's like that story. "The Prince and the Porpoise."

Blackadder:
"and the Pauper," sir.

Prince George:
Ah yes. "The Prince and the Porpoise and the Pauper."

Prince George:
Ah, Blackadder! Notice anything unusual?

Blackadder:
Yes sir. It's 11:30 in the morning and you're moving about. Is the bed on fire?

Blackadder:
I'm afraid my ambitions stretch slightly further than professional idiocy in West London.

The Duke of Wellington:
There's only one way to win a campaign: shout, shout and shout again!

Blackadder:
Don't even try to work it out Baldrick. Two people you know well have exchanged coats and now you don't know which is which.

Blackadder:
[reading from a letter] Sir, prince or pauper, when a man soils a Wellington, he puts his foot in it. This is not a joke. I do not find my name remotely funny and people who do end up dead.

Dr. Samuel Johnson:
[places two manuscripts on the table, but picks up the top one] Here it is, sir. The very cornerstone of English scholarship. This book, sir, contains every word in our beloved language.

Blackadder:
Every single one, sir?

Dr. Samuel Johnson:
Every single word, sir!

Blackadder:
Oh, well, in that case, sir, I hope you will not object if I also offer the Doctor my most enthusiastic contrafribularities.

Dr. Samuel Johnson:
What?

Blackadder:
"Contrafribularites", sir? It is a common word down our way.

Dr. Samuel Johnson:
Damn! [writes in the book]

Blackadder:
Oh, I'm sorry, sir. I'm anispeptic, frasmotic, even compunctuous to have caused you such pericombobulation.

[about the dictionary]

Blackadder:
No, sir, it is not. It's the most pointless book since How To Learn French was translated into French.

Prince George:
You haven't got anything personal against Johnson, have you Blackadder?

Blackadder:
Good Lord, sir, not at all. In fact, I had never heard of him until you mentioned him just now.

Prince George:
But you do think he's a genius...?

Blackadder:
No, sir, I do not. Unless, of course, the definition of "genius" in his ridiculous Dictionary is "a fat dullard or wobblebottom; a pompous ass with sweatly dewflaps".

Prince George:
Ha. close shave there, then. Lucky you warned me. I was about to embrace this unholy arse to the royal bosom.

Blackadder:
I'm delighted to have been instrumental of keeping your bosom free of arses, sir.

[Baldrick has accidentally burnt Dr. Johnson's dictionary]

Blackadder:
Sir, I have been unable to replace the dictionary. I am therefore leaving immediately for Nepal, where I intend to live as a goat.

Blackadder:
We are going to Mrs. Miggins' Coffee Shop, we are going to find out where Dr. Johnson keeps a copy of his dictionary, and YOU are going to steal it.

Baldrick:
Me?

Blackadder:
Yes, you.

Baldrick:
Why me?

Blackadder:
Because you burnt it, Baldrick.

Baldrick:
But then I will go to Hell forever for stealing.

Blackadder:
Believe me, Baldrick, eternity in the company of Beelzebub, and all his hellish instruments of death, will be a picnic compared to five minutes with me... and this pencil.

Blackadder:
[referring to Dr. Johnson's dictionary] Right, Baldrick... where's the manuscript?

Baldrick:
You mean the big papery thing tied up with string?

Blackadder:
Yes, Baldrick, the manuscript belonging to Dr. Johnson.

Baldrick:
You mean the baity fellow in the black coat who just left?

Blackadder:
Yes, Baldrick, Dr. Johnson.

Baldrick:
So, you're asking where the big papery thing tied up with string belonging to the baity fellow in the black coat who just left is?

Blackadder:
Yes, Baldrick, I am... and if you don't answer, then the booted bony thing with 5 toes at the end of my leg will soon connect sharply with the soft, dangly collection of objects in your trousers. (His voice soon becomes slightly serious) Now, for the last time, Baldrick... where is Dr. Johnson's manuscript?

Baldrick:
On the fire.

Blackadder:
(Starting to enter a surprised, confused and slightly shocked mood) On the *what*?

Baldrick:
The hot, orangy thing under the stony mantelpiece.

Blackadder:
(His voice's mood suddenly speedily changes from surprised, confused and slightly shocked to yelling-like horror) You've burnt the dictionary?!

Baldrick:
Yep.

Prince George:
Someone said I had the wit and intellect of a donkey.

Blackadder:
Oh, an absurd suggestion sir, unless it was a particularly stupid donkey.

Prince George:
I'm as happy as a Frenchman who has just invented a pair of self-removing trousers.

Blackadder:
Baldrick, that is by far and away, and without a shadow of doubt, the worst and most contemptible plan in the history of the universe.

Prince George:
[wakes up agitated] Oh, Blackadder. Blackadder!

Blackadder:
You called sir?

Prince George:
Wha- wha- what time is it?

Blackadder:
Three o'clock in the afternoon, your highness.

Prince George:
Oh, thank God for that, I thought I'd overslept.

Prince George:
Well, yes, you see, only the other day, Prime Minister Pitt called me an idle scrounger, and it wasn't until later that I thought how clever it would've been to have said, "Oh, bugger off, you old fart!"

Samuel Johnson:
Not only have you impeculiated my dictionary, you have also lost the chance to act as patron to the only book in the world that is even better!

Blackadder:
Oh. And what is that, sir? "Dictionary 2: The Return of the Killer Dictionary"?

Blackadder:
Baldrick, go to the kitchen and make me something quick and simple to eat, would you? Two slices of bread with something in between.

Baldrick:
What, like Gerald Lord Sandwich had the other day?

Blackadder:
Yes, a few rounds of geralds.

Blackadder:
[rewriting the dictionary] Baldrick, what have you done?

Baldrick:
I've done "C" and "D."

Blackadder:
Right. Let's have it, then.

Baldrick:
Right. "Big blue wobbly thing that mermaids live in."

Blackadder:
What's that?

Baldrick:
"C."

Blackadder:
Yes. Tiny misunderstanding. Still, my hopes weren't high. Oh, and "D?"

Baldrick:
I'm quite pleased with "dog."

Blackadder:
Yes, and your definition of "dog" is?

Baldrick:
"Not a cat."

Prince George:
[reading an animal's name and its definition from the newly-made replacement of Dr. Samuel Johnson's dictionary, produced following Baldrick's accidental act of throwing the original dictionary into the fire earlier] "Medium-sized insectivore with protruding nasal implement". Doesn't sound much like a bee to me!

Blackadder:
IT'S "AARDVARK"! Can't you see that, Your Highness?! It's a BLOODY "AARDVARK"!

Prince George:
Oh, dear... still on "aardvark", are we?

Blackadder:
Yes, I'm afraid we are... [starts entering a state of a slight rage as he continues his statement] ...And if I ever meet an aardvark, I'm going to step on its damned protruding nasal implement until it couldn't suck up an insect if its life depended on it!

Blackadder:
[describing a novel he's written] Edmund. A Butler's Tale. A huge, roller coaster of a novel in four hundred sizzling chapters. A searing indictment of domestic servitude in the eighteenth century, with some hot gypsies thrown in.

Prince George:
Ah, Dr. Johnson, damn cold day!

Dr. Samuel Johnson:
Indeed it is sir - but a very fine one, for I celebrated last night the encyclopedic implementation of my pre-meditated orchestration of demotic Anglo-Saxon.

Prince George:
Nope - didn't catch any of that.

Dr. Samuel Johnson:
Well, I simply observed, sir, that I'm felicitous since during the course of the penultimate solar sojourn, I terminated my uninterrupted categorisation of the vocabluary of our post-Norman tongue.

Prince George:
Well, I don't know what you're talking about, but it sounds damn saucy, you lucky thing! I know some fairly liberal-minded girls, but I've never penultimated any of them in a solar sojourn, or for that matter, been given any Norman tongue.

Blackadder:
I believe, sir, that the Doctor is trying to tell you that he is happy because he has finished his book. It has apparently taken him ten years.

Prince George:
Well, I'm a slow reader myself.

Mrs. Miggins:
Don't worry about my poets, Mr. Blackadder. They're not dead; they're just being intellectual.

Baldrick:
Sounds like a bag of grapefruits to me, Mr B.

Blackadder:
The phrase, Baldrick, is "a case of sour grapes" - and yes it bloody well is.

Blackadder:
Leaving already doctor? Not staying for your pendigestatory interluditude?

Lord Topper:
[posing as the Comte de Frou Frou] Have no fear! Ze Scarlet Pimpernel will save us!

Edmund Blackadder, Esq, Butler to the Prince:
Ha! Some hope. The Pimpernel is the most overrated human being since Judas Iscariot won the A.D. 31 Best Disciple Competition.

Edmund Blackadder, Esq, Butler to the Prince:
Look, mate, me old mate... We're both working class; we both these rich b*stards; I mean, come on, come on, me old mucker, just, just let me go - you've got nothing against me...

Ambassador - Fearsome Revolutionary:
On the contrarie! I you English with your boring trousers and your shiny toilet paper, and your ridiculous preconception that Frenchmen are great lovers...

[looks both ways, then speaks softly]

Ambassador - Fearsome Revolutionary:
*I'm* French, and I'm hung like a baby carrot and a couple of petit-pois.

Baldrick:
Yes, I shall certainly choose revolutionary France for my holiday again next year.

Blackadder:
I was merely pointing out that sneaking aristocrats out from under the noses of French Revolutionaries is about as difficult as putting on a hat!

Blackadder:
Farewell, dear master, and - dare I say it - friend.

Prince George:
Farewell, brave liberator, and - dare I say it - butler.

Blackadder:
His Royal Highness, the Pinhead of Wales, summons me. I feel almost well-disposed towards him this morning. Utter chump though he may be, at least he's not French.

Prince George:
Ah! Le Adder Noir! Come a nous in!

Blackadder:
If I don't make it back, please write to my mother and tell her I've been alive all the time. It's just that I couldn't be bothered to get in touch with the old bat.

[Referring to a suicide pill they have both been given, after being captured by French revolutionaries]

Baldrick:
I'm glad to say you won't be needing that pill, Mr. B.

Blackadder:
Am I jumping the gun, Baldrick, or are the words "I have a cunning plan" marching with ill-deserved confidence in the direction of this conversation?

Baldrick:
They certainly are.

Blackadder:
Well, forgive me if I don't do a cartwheel of joy; your record in this department is hardly 100%. So what is it?

Baldrick:
We do nothing...

Blackadder:
Yup, it's another world-beater.

Baldrick:
No, wait. We do nothing... until our heads have actually been cut off.

Blackadder:
And then we... spring into action?

Mrs. Miggins:
Bonjour, Monsieur

Blackadder:
Excuse me.

Mrs. Miggins:
It's French.

Blackadder:
So is eating frogs, cruelty to geese and urinating on the streets.

Blackadder:
[to Baldrick] Unless I think of something, tomorrow we go to meet our Maker: in my case God, in your case God knows.

Mrs. Miggins:
The Scarlet Pimpernel, Mr. Blackadder! He's so exciting, don't you think?

Blackadder:
Actually, I think he's the most over-rated human being since Judas Iscariot won the AD31 Best Disciple Competition.

Blackadder:
We hate the French! We fight wars against the French! Did all those men die in vain on the fields of Agincourt? Was the man who burned Joan of Arc just wasting good matches?

Blackadder:
Stick the kettle on, Baldrick

Baldrick:
What? Aren't we going to France?

Blackadder:
Of course we're not going to France! It's incredibly dangerous!

Baldrick:
Well, how you gonna win your bet?

Blackadder:
Simple, Baldrick. By the use of the large thing between my ears.

Baldrick:
Ohhh. Your nose.

Edmund Blackadder, Esq, Butler to the Prince:
Wait a minute. I've thought of a plan.

Baldrick:
Hurray!

Edmund Blackadder, Esq, Butler to the Prince:
Also, I've thought of a way to get you to sleep.

Baldrick:
What?

Baldrick:
[Blackadder hits Baldrick, presumably on top of the head] Ooh!

Prince George:
I must say, Blackadder, that was a close shave. Why would an anarchist possibly want to kill you?

Blackadder:
Actually, I think it's you he was trying to kill, sir.

Prince George:
Oh hogwash. How could you possibly think that?

Blackadder:
Well my suspicions were first aroused by his use of the words "death to the stupid prince".

Blackadder:
They do say, Mrs M, that verbal insults hurt more than physical pain. They are, of course, wrong, as you will soon discover when I stick this toasting fork into your head.

Keanrick:
Why, your very posture tells me, "Here is a man of true greatness."

Blackadder:
Either that or "Here are my genitals, please kick them."

Baldrick:
My uncle Baldrick was in a play once.

Blackadder:
Really?

Baldrick:
Yeah, it was called Macbeth.

Blackadder:
And what did he play?

Baldrick:
Second codpiece. Macbeth wore him in the fight scenes.

Blackadder:
So he was a stunt codpiece.

Baldrick:
[Baldrick nods] Yes.

Blackadder:
Did he have a large part?

Baldrick:
Depends who was playing Macbeth.

Blackadder:
Gentlemen, I've come with a proposition.

Mossop:
How dare you, sir. You think just because we're actors, we sleep with everyone.

Blackadder:
I think, being actors, you're lucky to sleep with anyone.

Blackadder:
Disease and deprivation stalk our land like... two giant stalking things.

Blackadder:
Baldrick, I would like to say how much I will miss your honest and friendly companionship.

Baldrick:
Aaahh, thank you Mr. B.

Blackadder:
But as we both know, it'll be an utter lie. I will therefore confine myself to saying simply, "Sod off," and if I ever meet you again, it'll be twenty billion years too soon.

Baldrick:
Goodbye, you lazy big-nosed, rubber-faced bastard.

Blackadder:
I fear, Baldrick, that you will soon be eating those badly chosen words. I wouldn't bet you a single groat that you can survive five minutes here without me.

Baldrick:
Oh come on, Mr. B., it's not as though we're gonna get murdered or anything the minute you leave, is it?

Blackadder:
Hope springs eternal, Baldrick.

Mossop:
...lest you continue in your quotations and mention the name of the "Scottish Play".

Keanrick:
Oh-ho... never fear, I shan't do that.

Blackadder:
By the "Scottish Play", I assume you mean *Macbeth*.

Mossop, Keanrick:
Aahhhhh. Hot potato, orchestra stalls, Puck will make amends. [They tweak each others nose] Aaahh.

Blackadder:
What was that?

Keanrick:
We were exorcising evil spirits. Being but a mere butler, you will not know the great theatre tradition that one does *never* speak the name of the "Scottish Play".

Blackadder:
What, *Macbeth*?

Mossop, Keanrick:
Aahhhhh. Hot potato, orchestra stalls, Puck will make amends. [They tweak each others nose] Ohhh.

Blackadder:
Good lord, you mean you have to do *that* every time I say *Macbeth*?

Mossop, Keanrick:
Aahhhhh. Hot potato, orchestra stalls, Puck will make amends. [They tweak each others nose] Owwww.

Mossop:
Will you please stop saying *that*. Always call it the "Scottish Play".

Blackadder:
So you want me to say the "Scottish Play"?

Mossop, Keanrick:
[shout] Yes.

Blackadder:
Rather than *Macbeth*?

Mossop, Keanrick:
Aahhhhh. Hot potato, orchestra stalls, Puck will make amends. [They tweak each others nose] Owwwwww.

Prince George:
For heaven's sake, what is all this hullabaloo, all this shouting and screaming and yelling blue murder? Why... it's like that play we saw the other day, what was it called... umm...

Blackadder:
*Macbeth*, sir?

Mossop, Keanrick:
Aahhhhh. Hot potato, orchestra stalls, Puck will make amends. [They are bowing toward the Prince, and must tweak their own noses] Owwwwww.

Prince George:
No, no, it was called Julius Caesar.

Blackadder:
Ah, yes, of course. Julius Caesar... not *Macbeth*.

Mossop, Keanrick:
Aahhhhh. Hot potato, orchestra stalls, Puck will make amends. [They tweak each others nose] Owwwwww.

[explaining to the prince why the "oppressed masses" are so worked up]

Blackadder:
They are worked up, sir, because they are so poor that they are forced to have children as a cheap alternative to turkey at Christmas.

Baldrick:
You look smart, Mr Blackadder. Going somewhere nice?

Blackadder:
No. I'm off to the theatre.

Baldrick:
Don't you like it then?

Blackadder:
No I don't. A lot of stupid actors strutting around shouting, with their chests thrust out so far you'd think their nipples were attached to a pair of charging elephants. And the worst thing about it is having to go with Prince Mini-Brain!

Baldrick:
What, doesn't he like it either?

Blackadder:
Oh, no. He loves it. The problem is he doesn't realise it's made up.

Blackadder:
Shoo, Baldrick! Carry on with your cleaning elsewhere. And by the end of tonight, I want that dining table so clean I could eat my dinner off it.

Baldrick:
Mr Blackadder always says, "When the going gets tough, the tough hide under the table!"

[Blackadder and the Price are going to the theater]

Blackadder:
Last year when we went to see 'Julius Caesar', just as Brutus was about to stab Caesar the Prince cried out, "Look behind you, Mr. Caesar!"

Prince George:
Are you sure we can even trust these acting fellows, Blackadder? Last time we went to the theater three of them murdered Julius Caesar. And one of them was his best friend, Brutus!

Blackadder:
As I have told you about eight times, the man playing Julius Caesar was an actor called Kemp.

Prince George:
Really?

Blackadder:
Yes?

Prince George:
Thundering gherkins! Well, Brutus must have been pretty miffed when he found out!

Blackadder:
What?

Prince George:
That he hadn't killed Caesar after all, just some poxy actor called Kemp! What do you think he did, go 'round to Caesar's place after the play and kill him then?

Prince George:
[shouting from upstairs] Come on, Blackadder, we'll miss the first act!

Blackadder:
[shouts up] Coming sir, as fast as I can!

Blackadder:
[sitting in his chair] Stick the kettle on, Baldrick.

Anarchist:
Right, everybody out! Smash the Spinning Jenny! Burn the Rolling Rosalind! Destroy the Going-up-and-down-a-bit-and-then-moving-along Gertrude! And death to the stupid Prince who grows fat on the profits! [he tosses a lit bomb to the Prince]

Prince George:
I say, how exciting! This play's getting better and better! Bravo! Bravo!

Blackadder:
It's not a play anymore, sir. Put the bomb down and make your way quietly to the exit.

Prince George:
Blackadder, you old thing, your problem is you can't tell when something's real and when it's not! [the bomb explodes]

Blackadder:
The criminal's vanity always makes them make one tiny but fatal mistake. Theirs was to have their entire conspiracy printed and published in plain manuscript.

Prince George:
Anarchist!

Baldrick:
Cleaner!

Prince George:
So you've had a wash, that's no excuse!

Prince George:
Mr. Thicky-Black-Thicky-Adder-Thicky!

Blackadder:
[after Baldrick finds out about the "plot" to kill Prince George, Blackadder leaves him, telling him he might not cope more than five minutes without him, and places a bet] Four minutes, twenty-two seconds. Baldrick, you owe me a groat!

Mossop:
...Lest you continue in your quotation and mention the name of the Scottish Play.

Keanrick:
Oh, never fear, I shan't do that.

Blackadder:
By "the Scottish Play," I assume you mean Macbeth?

Mossop, Keanrick:
Aaah! [Playing patty-cake] Hot potato, orchestra stalls, Puck will make amends! [They each tweak the other's nose] Ah.

Blackadder:
What was that?

Keanrick:
We were exorcising evil spirits. Being but a mere butler, you will not know the great theatre tradition that one does *never* speak the name of the Scottish Play.

Blackadder:
What, Macbeth?

Mossop, Keanrick:
Aaah! [Playing patty-cake] Hot potato, orchestra stalls, Puck will make amends! [They each tweak the other's nose] Ooh.

Blackadder:
Good Lord, you mean you have to do that every time I say Macbeth?

Mossop, Keanrick:
Aaah! [Playing patty-cake] Hot potato, orchestra stalls, Puck will make amends! [They each tweak the other's nose] Owww.

Mossop:
Will you please stop saying that? Always call it the Scottish Play!

Blackadder:
So you want me to say "the Scottish Play"...

Mossop, Keanrick:
[shouting] Yes!

Blackadder:
...rather than Macbeth.

Mossop, Keanrick:
Aaah! [Playing patty-cake] Hot potato, orchestra stalls, Puck will make amends! [They each tweak the other's nose] Owww.

Prince George:
I say, what is all this hullaballoo, all this shouting and screaming and yelling blue murder? Why, it's like that play we saw the other day. What was it called, uh...?

Blackadder:
Macbeth, sir?

Mossop, Keanrick:
Aaah! [Playing patty-cake with themselves] Hot potato, orchestra stalls, Puck will make amends! [as they are still bowing to the prince, each tweaks his own nose] Ah.

Prince George:
No, no, no, no, it was called Julius Caesar.

Blackadder:
Oh, yes, of course. Julius Caesar. Not Macbeth.

Mossop, Keanrick:
Aaah! [Playing patty-cake] Hot potato, orchestra stalls, Puck will make amends! [They each tweak the other's nose] Ah.

Blackadder:
[after being insulted by the prince] All I can say is he'd better watch out. One more foot wrong and the contract between us, will be as broken as this milk jug. [Blackadder picks up a milk jug]

Baldrick:
But that milk jug isn't broken.

Blackadder:
You really do walk into these things don't you? [Blackadder breaks the milk jug on Baldrick's head to prove his point]

Baldrick:
My uncle Baldrick was in a play once.

Blackadder:
Really?

Baldrick:
Yeah, it was called "Macbeth".

Blackadder:
And what did he play?

Baldrick:
Second codpiece. Macbeth wore him in the fight scenes.

Blackadder:
So he was a stunt codpiece?

Baldrick:
Yeah.

Blackadder:
Did he have a large part?

Baldrick:
[a brief silence] Depends who was playing Macbeth.

Blackadder:
Actors are very superstitious. On no account mention the word "Macbeth" this evening, alright?

Baldrick:
Why not?

Blackadder:
It brings them bad luck, and it makes them very unhappy.

Baldrick:
Oh. So you won't be mentioning it either?

Blackadder:
No. Well, not very often. [Blackadder sips his tea]