Sunday, September 05, 2010

Blackadder quotes

Edmund: I like the cut of your jib, young fella me lad. What's your name?
Baldrick: My name is Baldrick, my lord.
Edmund: Then I shall call you Baldrick, Baldrick.
Baldrick: And I shall call you "my lord," my lord.
Percy: It will be a great day tomorrow for we nobles.
Prince Edmund: Well, not if we lose, Percy. If we lose, I'll be chopped to pieces. My arms will end up at Essex, my torso in Norfolk, and my genitalia stuck up in a tree somewhere in Rutland.

Born to Be King
[King Richard IV is about to set out on a crusade against the Turks]
Richard IV: As the good Lord said: "Love thy neighbour as thyself, unless he's Turkish, in which case, kill the bastard!"
Edmund: Don't be absurd. Such activities are totally beyond my mother. My father only got anywhere with her because he told her it was a cure for diarrhoea.
Prince Harry: McAngus, this is the man who'll be providing tomorrow's entertainments! [gestures to Edmund]
Dougal McAngus: Ah, the eunuch! Delighted to meet you; there's a groat for the troubles!
Edmund: [in a high pitched voice] I am not a eunuch!
Dougal McAngus: You sound like one to me!
Edmund: [normal voice] I am not a eunuch, I am the Duke of Edinburgh!
Dougal McAngus: [sarcastically] Oh you are, are you!? [turns to Queen Gertrude] Same old story, eh!? Duke of Edinburgh's about as Scottish as the Queen of England's tits! [realises] Och, nae offence, your Majesty.
The Archbishop
Harry: Yes, that's right. A tragic accident.
Edmund: Almost as tragic as Archbishop Bertram being struck by a falling gargoyle whilst swimming off Beachy Head.
Harry: Yes, or Archbishop Wilfred slipping and falling backwards onto the spire of Norwich Cathedral. Oh, Lord, you do work in mysterious ways.
King Richard IV: [to Edmund] You, as compared to your beloved brother Harry, are as excrement compared to cream!
Harry: Oh, father, you flatter me!
Edmund: And me, also!
The Queen of Spain's Beard
King: Chiswick, remind me to send flowers to the king of France in sympathy for the death of his son.
Chiswick: The one you had murdered, my lord?
King: [absentmindedly] Yes, yes, that's the fellow.

King: Chiswick, take this to the Queen of Naples. [holds up an urn]
Chiswick: What is it, my lord?
King: The King of Naples!
Don Speekeenglish: [translating for the Infanta of Spain] You are the light of my life. I wish to enfold you in my broad thighs.
Witchsmeller Pursuivant
Witchsmeller: [talking about ordeal by axe] The suspect has his head placed upon a block, and an axe aimed at his neck. If the man is guilty, the axe will bounce off his neck — so we burn him. If the man is not guilty, the axe will simply slice his head off.
Percy: Look, look, I just can't take the pressure of all these omens anymore!
Edmund: Percy...
Percy: No, no, really, I'm serious! Only this morning in the courtyard I saw a horse with two heads and two bodies!
Edmund: Two horses standing next to each other?
Percy: Yes, I suppose it could have been.
The Black Seal
Friar Bellows: Perhaps a motto for our enterprise? "Blessed are the meek..."
[The rest grumble in disagreement.]
Friar Bellows: "... for they shall be slaughtered!"
[The rest cheer and rush for the door.]
Edmund: But the plan! You've forgotten the plan!
Sir Wilfred Death: I thought that was the plan!
Sean, the Irish Bastard: Let's get those meek bastards now!
Edmund: He murdered his whole family!
Pete: Who didn't? I certainly killed mine.
Wilfred: And I killed mine.
Friar: And I killed yours.
Sean: Did you?
Friar: Yes.
Sean: Good on you, Father.
Blackadder II

Bells
Blackadder: This is the Jane Harrington?
Percy: Yes.
Blackadder: Jane "Bury Me in a Y-Shaped Coffin" Harrington?
Percy: I think there may be two Jane Harringtons —
Blackadder: No, no... Tall, blonde, elegant.?
Percy: Yes, that's her.
Blackadder: Goes like a privy door when the plague's in town?
Percy: I'd like to meet the Spaniard who can make his way past me!
Blackadder: Well go to Spain. There are millions of them.
Blackadder: Tell me, young crone, is this Putney?
Young Crone: [cackling] That it be! That it be!
Blackadder: "Yes, it is," not "That it be". And you don't have to talk in that stupid voice to me, I'm not a tourist! I seek information about a Wise Woman.
Young Crone: The Wise Woman? The Wise Woman?!
Blackadder: Yes. The Wise Woman.
Young Crone: Two things, my Lord, must ye know of the Wise Woman. First... she is a woman! And second... she is...
Blackadder: Wise?
Young Crone: [normal] You do know her, then?
Blackadder: No, just a wild stab in the dark - which, incidentally, is what you'll be getting if you don't start being a bit more helpful! Do you know where she lives?
Young Crone: 'Course.
Blackadder: Where?
Young Crone: 'Ere. Do you have an appointment?
Blackadder: No.
Young Crone: Oh... you can go in anyway.
Blackadder: Thank you, young crone. Here is a purse of monies... [she tries to grab it] which I'm not going to give to you. [walks in]
Wise Woman: Hail Edmund, Lord of Adders Black!
Blackadder: Hello.
Wise Woman: Step no further, for already I see thy bloody purpose. Thou plotest, Blackadder! Thou would be king, and drown Middlesex in a butt of wine! [cackles madly]
Blackadder: No, it's much worse than that. I'm in love with my manservant!
Wise Woman: [nonchalent] Well, I'd sleep with him if I were you.
Blackadder: What!?
Wise Woman: When I fancy people, I sleep with them. I have to drug them first, being so old and warty.
Blackadder: But what of my position, my livelihood!?
Wise Woman: Very well, then there are three solutions, three cures for thy ailment. The first is simple: Kill

Bob!
Blackadder: Never!
Wise Woman: Then try the second: kill yourself!
Blackadder: And the third?
Wise Woman: The third is to ensure that no one else ever knows.
Blackadder: Ah, that sounds more like it! How?
Wise Woman: KILL EVERYBODY IN THE WHOLE WORLD! [cackles madly. Edmund looks at her in disdain]
Dr Leech: It isn't every day a man wakes up to find he's a screaming bender with no more right to live on God's clean earth than a weasel!

Head
Blackadder: To you, Baldrick, the Renaissance was just something that happened to other people, wasn't it?
Blackadder: [seeing Percy's abnormally wide new neckruff] You look like a bird who's swallowed a plate.
Percy: It's the latest fashion, actually. And as a matter of fact, it makes me look rather sexy!
Blackadder: To another plate-swallowing bird, perhaps. If it was blind and hadn't had it in months.
Percy: May I come too, my lord?
Blackadder: No, best not. People might think we're friends. Better stay here; bird-neck [Percy's new look] and bird-brain [Baldrick] should get along like a house on fire!
Melchett: I have taken the liberty to make a list of suitable candidates. [unrolls a scroll] Lord Blackadder. [pauses and rolls the scroll back up]
Blackadder: Pathetic! Absolutely pathetic! Contemptible! Worth a try!

Potato
Blackadder: To you, it's a potato, to me, it's a potato. But to Sir Walter bloody Raleigh, it's fine estates, luxury carriages and as many girls as his tongue can handle! He's making a fortune out of the things: people are smoking them, building houses out of them... they'll be eating them next!
Melchett: Started talking to yourself, Blackadder?
Blackadder: Yes, it's the only way I can be sure of intelligent conversation around here!
Melchett: [giving a scroll to Blackadder] Farewell, Blackadder! The foremost cartographers of the land have prepared this for you! [Blackadder unrolls the scroll] It's a... map of the area you'll be traversing. [Blackadder inspects the apparently blank scroll] They'd be very grateful if you could just fill it in as you go along. Goodbye!
Captain Rum: Truth is, I don't know the way to the Cape of Good Hope anyway!
Blackadder: Good Lord! What were you going to do!?
Captain Rum: What I usually do: sail round and round the Isle of Wight until everyone's dizzy and then head for home!
[After they inform Nursie her beloved Captain Rum is dead]
Percy: Don't despair, good woman. He died a hero's death, giving his life so that his friends might live.
Blackadder: And that his enemies might have something to go with their potatoes!
Nursie: [tearfully] You mean they put him in the pot?!
Blackadder: Yes, your fiancee was only a third-rate sailor, but a first-rate second course!
[Not having a present for Melchett, Blackadder offers a bottle of Baldrick's urine]
Blackadder: There was one thing, ma'am - a fine WINE from the far east. A most delicious beverage.
Queenie: Have a taste, boys; tell us what you think.
Sir Walter: It certainly has plenty of nose.
Melchett: Oh yes, this is very familiar.
Blackadder: You'll be delighted to hear there's an inexhaustible supply of the stuff.

Money
Blackadder: God, well you're a one, aren't you!? When you should whispering sweet conversational nothings like, 'Goodness, something twice the size of the Royal Barge has just hoved into view between the sheets,' you don't say a word. But enter the Creature from the Black Latrine, and you won't stop jabbering.
Molly: He treated me like a human being!
Blackadder: Look, if I wanted a lecture of the rights of man, I'd have gone to bed with Martin Luther!
Bishop of Bath and Wells: He said I AM THE BABY-EATING BISHOP OF BATH AND WELLS!
Blackadder: Good Lord!
Bishop of Bath and Wells: You haven't any children, Blackadder?
Blackadder: No, I'm not married.
Bishop of Bath and Wells: In that case, I'll skip breakfast and get down to business!

Blackadder: The path of my life is strewn with cowpats from the Devil's own Satanic herd!
Blackadder: Baldrick, pack my bags. I'm going to sell the house.
Baldrick and Percy: [shocked] What!?
Blackadder: There's nothing else for it. I mean, I shall miss the old place, I know. I've had some happy times here, when you and Percy have been out. But needs must when the Devil vomits into your kettle. Baldrick, go forth into the streets and let it be known that Lord Blackadder wishes to sell his house. Percy, just go forth into the street.

Baldrick: Have you got a plan, my lord?
Blackadder: Yes I have, and it's so cunning you can brush your teeth with it.
Bishop of Bath and Wells: [having been blackmailed by Blackadder] You fiend! Never, in all my years, have I encountered such corrupt and foul-minded perversity! Have you ever considered a career in the church!?

Beer
Blackadder: Well, it is said, Percy, that civilised man seeks out good and intelligent company, so that through learned discourse he may rise above the savage and closer to God.
Percy: Yes, I've heard that.
Blackadder: Personally, however, I like to start the day with a total dickhead to remind me I'm best.
Percy: Tush, my lord!
Blackadder: And don't say 'Tush', either! It's only a short step from 'Tush' to 'Hey nonny nonny!' and then, I'm afraid, I shall have to call the police.
Melchett: I'm sure we all remember the shame and embarassment of the visit of the King of Austria, when Blackadder was found wandering naked among the gardens of Hampton Court, singing "I'm Merlin, the Happy Pig!"
[Queen Elizabeth has a lot of good ideas.]
Nursie: That was another good idea! You are so clever today, you better be careful your foot doesn't fall off.
Queen Elizabeth: Does that happen, when you have lots of brilliant ideas? Your foot falls off?
Nursie: Certainly does! My brother, he had this brilliant idea of cutting his toenails with a scythe, and his foot fell off.
Blackadder: Get the door, Baldrick.
[There is a crash. Baldrick enters, carrying a door.]
Blackadder: Baldrick, I would advise you to make the explanation you are about to give... phenomenally good.
Baldrick: You said "Get the door."
Blackadder: Not good enough. You're fired.
Baldrick: But my lord, I've been in your family since 1532!
Blackadder: So has syphilis! Now get out!
[Blackadder is trying to get out of the party]
Queenie: I know why you want to get out of it, because I remember the last time you had a party. I found you face-down in a puddle, wearing a pointy hat and singing a song about goblins.
Blackadder: [angrily] Yes, all right! All right! Tonight it is!
Queenie: [coyly] Oh Edmund, I do love it when you get cross. Sometimes I think about having you executed, just to see the expression on your face!
Blackadder: [to Baldrick] I wish to quickly send off some party invitations. And to make them look particularly tough, I wish to write them in blood. Your blood, to be precise.
Baldrick: So, how much blood will you actually be requiring, my lord?
Blackadder: Oh, nothing much, just a small puddle.
Baldrick: Will you want me to cut anything off? An arm or a leg, for instance?
Blackadder: Oh, good lord, no. A little prick should do.
Baldrick: Very well, my lord. I am your bondsman, and must obey. (sticks a knife down his trousers and begins sawing)
Blackadder: OH FOR GOD'S SAKE, BALDRICK! I meant a little prick on your finger!
Baldrick: I haven't got one there!
Blackadder: If you'd like to help yourself to a legacy- I mean a chair!
Lady Whiteadder: Chair!? You have chairs in your house!?
Blackadder: Oh yes.
Lady Whiteadder: [slaps him twice] Wicked child! Chairs are an invention of Satan! In our house, Nathaniel sits on a spike!
Blackadder: And yourself?
Lady Whiteadder: I sit on Nathaniel. Two spikes would be an extravagence! I will suffer comfort this once; we shall jsut have to stick forks in our legs between courses!
[Edmund walks in with a pair of false breasts on. Percy makes coughing noises to try and alert him to this fact]
Blackadder: Sorry, he's sick. Leprosy...of the brain.
Lady Whiteadder: What he is trying to tell you is that you appear to be wearing a pair of devil's dumplings!
[Blackadder looks down, notices the breasts and places them around his head]
Blackadder: Oh my god, my ear muffs have fallen down! Would you like a pair, it's getting rather cold?
Lady Whiteadder: No, thank you! Cold is God's way of telling us to burn more Catholics!
Queenie: I may have the body of a weak and feeble woman, but I have the heart and stomach...of a concrete elephant!
Partridge: Prove it!
Queenie: Certainly will! [picks up a tankard] First I'm going to have a little drinky...and then I'm going to execute the whole bally lot of you!
Blackadder: [drunk and singing] "See the little goblin, see his little feet, and his little nosy-wose, isn't the goblin sweet?"
Lady Whiteadder: [drunk] Luck! Wahey! Get it?!
All: Uh, no.
Lady Whiteadder: Oh come on! LUCK! Sounds almost exactly like f-!
[The episode ends]

Chains
Melchett: As private parts to the gods are we: they play with us for their sport!
Blackadder: Were you ever bullied at school?
Prince Ludwig: What do you mean?
Blackadder: I mean, all this ranting and raving about power. There must be some reason for it.
Prince Ludwig: Nonsense. No, at my school, having dirty hair and spots was a sign of maturity.
Blackadder: I thought so! And I bet your mother made you wear shorts all the way up to your final year--
Prince Ludwig: Shut up! Shut up! When I am King of England, no one will ever dare call me "Shorty-Greasy-Spot-Spot" again!
Blackadder: Ludwig was a master of disguise, whereas Nursie is a sad, insane old woman with an udder fixation!

Blackadder the Third

Dish and Dishonesty
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 was little and 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, "Mr S. Baldrick." Now then, "Distinguishing features".... None.
Baldrick: Hold on. 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, "Criminal record?"
Baldrick: Absolutely not.
Blackadder: Oh, come on, Baldrick, you're going to be an MP, for God's sake! Look, I'll just put "Fraud and sexual deviancy".
[Prince George believes William Pitt the Younger to be a schoolboy]
Blackadder: Mr. Pitt is the Prime Minister, sir.
George: [in disbelief] Oh, go on! Is he? What, young Snotty here?
Pitt: I'd rather have a runny nose than a runny brain.
George: ... Eh?
Blackadder: Um, excuse me, Prime Minister, but we do have some lovely jelly in the pantry. I don't know if you'd be interested at all?
Pitt: Don't patronise me, you lower-middle class yobbo! [quietly] What flavour is it?
Blackadder: Blackcurrant.
Pitt: EURGH!
The Prince Regent: [about Pitt the Younger] I say Blackadder, are you sure this is the PM? Seems like a bit of an oily tick to me! I remember when I was at school, we used to line up four or five of his sort, tell them to bend over and use them for a toast-rack!
[Listing reasons why they will win a forthcoming by-election]
Blackadder: Firstly, we shall fight this campaign on issues, not personalities. Secondly, we shall be the only fresh thing on the menu. And thirdly, of course, we'll cheat!
Vincent Hanna: And now for the result of our exclusive exit poll, which produced a 100% result for... "Mind your own business, you nosy bastard."
Blackadder: If you want something done properly, kill Baldrick before you start!
Blackadder: This is the worst moment of my entire life. I've spent my last penny on a cat-skin windcheater, and I've just broken a priceless turnip. [there is a loud banging at the door] And now I'm about to be viciously slaughtered by a naked Tunisian sock merchant! All I can say, Baldrick, is this: it's the last time I dabble in politics!

Ink and Incapability
Blackadder: I trust you had a pleasant evening, sir?
Prince George: Well, no, actually. The most extraordinary thing happened. Last night I was having a bit of a snack at the Naughty Hellfire Club, and some fellow said that I had the wit and sophistication of a donkey.
Blackadder: Oh. An absurd suggestion, sir.
Prince George: You're right, it is absurd.
Blackadder: Unless this was a particularly stupid donkey.
Blackadder: [about the dictionary] It's the most pointless book since "How to Learn French"... was translated into French.
Blackadder: We are going to go to Mrs. Miggins', we are going to find out where Dr. Johnson keeps a copy of that dictionary, and then you are going to steal it.
Baldrick: Me?
Blackadder: Yes, you.
Baldrick: Why me?
Blackadder: Because you burnt it, Baldrick!
Baldrick: But then I'll go to Hell forever for stealing.
Blackadder: Baldrick, believe me: 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... if we cannot replace this dictionary.
Shelley: Oh lovelorn ecstasy that is Mrs Miggins, wilt thou bring me one cup of the browned juices of that naughty bean we call coffee, ere I die?
Mrs Miggins: [giggles] Oh, you've a way with words about you, Mr Shelley.
Byron: To hell with his fine talking; COFFEE, WOMAN! [coughes] My consumption grows ever more acute and Coleridge's drugs are wearing off!
Byron: Be quiet, sir! Can't you see we're dying!?
Mrs Miggins: Don't mind my poets, Mr B.; they're not dead, they're just being intellectual.
Blackadder: Mrs Miggins, there is nothing intellectual about wandering ound Italy in a big shirt trying to get laid!
Blackadder: Now, 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: Baldrick, fetch my novel.
Baldrick: Novel?
Blackadder: Yes, the big papery thing tied up with string.
Baldrick: What, like the thing we burnt?
Blackadder: Exactly like the thing we burnt.
Baldrick: So you're asking for the big papery thing tied up with string, exactly like the thing we burnt.
Blackadder: Exactly.
Baldrick: We burnt it!
Blackadder: So we did. Thank you, Baldrick; seven years of my life up in smoke. Your Highness, I wonder if I might have a moment.
Prince George: By all means. [Blackadder leaves the room]
Blackadder: [from outside, horrified] OH GOD, NO! [re-enters the room, calmly] Thank you sir.
Dr Johnson: Burnt, you say? That's most unfortunate. A burnt novel is like a burnt dog...
Blackadder: OH SHUT UP!
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: Yes, well, I'm a slow reader myself.

Nob and Nobility
Blackadder: Morning, Mrs Miggins.
Mrs Miggins: Bonjour, monsieur.
Blackadder: [disgusted] What?
Mrs Miggins: Bonjour, monsieur. It's French.
Blackadder: So is eating frogs, cruelty to geese and urinating in the street. But that's no reason to inflict it on the rest of us!
Mrs Miggins: But French is all the fashion! My coffe shop is full of Frenchies, and it's all because of that wonderful Scarlet Pimpernel!
Blackadder: The Scarlet Pimpernel is not wonderful, Mrs Miggins. There is no reason whatsoever to admire someone for filling London with a bunch of garlic-chewing French toffs, crying "Oh-la-la" and looking for sympathy all the time just cos their fathers had their heads cut off! I'll have a cup of coffee, and some shepherd's pie.
Mrs Miggins: Oh, we don't serve pies anymore! My French clientele consider pies uncouth!
Blackadder: I hardly think a nation who eats snails and would go to bed with the kitchen sink if it put on a tutu is in any position to preach couthness!
Blackadder: [about the Scarlet Pimpernel] What has this fellow done!? Apart from pop over to France to rescue a few aristocratic toffs from the ineffectual clutches of some malnourished, whinging lefties, taking the oppurtunity while there, no doubt, to pick up some really cheap wine and some of their marvellous fruit flans! Has everyone forgotten; we hate the French! We fight wars with them! Did all those men die in vain on the fields of Agincourt? Was the man who burnt Joan of Arc simply wasting good matches?
Blackadder: Ah, his Royal Highness, the Pinhead of Wales, summons. And you know, I almost feel well disposed towards him today. Utter chump though he may be, at least he's not French!
Blackadder: The Ancient Greeks wrote in legend of a terrible container in which all the evils of the world were trapped. How prophetic they were. All they got wrong was the name. They called it "Pandora's Box", when, of course, they meant "Baldrick's Trousers".
Baldrick: It certainly can get a bit whiffy, there's no doubt about that!
Blackadder: We are told that, when the box was opened, the whole world turned to darkness and misfortune because of Pandora's fatal curiosity. [to Baldrick] I charge you now, Baldrick: for the good of all mankind, never allow curiosity to lead you to open your trousers. Nothing of interest lies therein!
Blackadder: [about to head to France to rescue an aristocrat] If I don't make it back, please write to my mother and tell her I've been alive all the time, I just can't be bothered to get in touch with the old bat!

Blackadder: All we need to do is lie low here for a week, go to Mrs Miggins, pick up any French toff, drag him through a puddle, take him to the ball and collect our one thousand guineas!
Baldrick: But what if the Prince finds us here?
Blackadder: He couldn't find his flybutton, let alone the kitchen door!
[There is a loud banging from upstairs]
Baldrick: What do you think that was?
Blackadder: Well, if I was feeling malicious, I would say it was the Prince, still trying to put his trousers on after a week!

Blackadder: How would you like to earn some money?
Comte de Frou-Frou: I would not like to earn it. I would like other people to earn it and give it to me. Just like in France in the good old days!
Blackadder: Yes, but this is a chance to return to the good old days!
Comte de Frou-Frou: Oh how I would love that. I hate this life; the food is filthy! This huge sausage [points to his dinner] is very suspicious. If I didn't know better, I'd say it was a—
Blackadder: Yes, yes, all right.
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, sir!
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?
Baldrick: Exactly! You know how when you cut a chicken's head off, it runs round and round the farmyard and then out the gate?
Blackadder: [haltingly] Yyyyyyyeah...?
Baldrick: Well, we wait until our heads have been cut off, then we run round and round, out the gate, and escape! What do you think?
Blackadder: My opinions are rather difficult to express in words, Baldrick. So perhaps I can put it this way... [tweaks Baldrick's nose]

Sense and Senility
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.
Baldrick: My uncle Baldrick was in a play once.
Blackadder: Really?...And what did he play?
Baldrick: Second codpiece. Macbeth wore him in the fight scenes.
Blackadder: So he was a stunt codpiece.
Baldrick: Yes.
Blackadder: Did he have a large part?
Baldrick: Depends who's playing Macbeth.
[Everytime the word "Macbeth" is used]
Keanrick and Mossop: [making strange movements] AARGH! Hot potato, off his drawers, Puck will make amends [they pinch each-other's noses] AAAH!
[George is standing with his legs wide apart]
Keanrick: Your very posture tells me, "Here is a man of true greatness!"
Blackadder: Either that, or "Here are my genitals, please kick them."
[Prince George has been insulting Blackadder throughout the episode]
Blackadder: All I'm saying is, he'd better watch out! (holds up a milk-jug) One more foot wrong from him, and the contract between us will be as broken as this milk-jug!
Baldrick: But that milk-jug isn't broken.
Blackadder: You really do walk into these things, don't you? (smashes the jug on Baldrick's head)

Blackadder: Baldrick, I would like to say how much I will miss your honest, friendly companionship...
Baldrick: Thank you, sir.
Blackadder: But as we both know, it would be an utter lie. I will therefore content myself with saying simply "Sod off" and if I ever meet you again, it will be 20 billion years too soon! [he leaves]
Baldrick: Goodbye, you lazy, big-nosed, rubber-faced bastard! [Blackadder re-enters the room]
Blackadder: I fear, Baldrick, that you will soon be eating those badly chosen words. I wouldn't bet a single groat that you could last five minutes without me!
Baldrick: Oh, come on Mr B.! It's not like we're gonna be murdered the second you leave, is it?
Blackadder: Hope springs eternal, Baldrick!

Amy and Amiability
Blackadder: Oh God! Bills, bills, bills. One is born, one runs up bills, one dies! And what have I got to show for it? Nothing but a butler's uniform and a slightly effeminate hairdo! Honestly, Baldrick, I sometimes feel like a pelican: whichever way I turn, I've still got an enormous bill in front of me!
Baldrick: I have a cunning plan to solve your money worries.
Blackadder: Yes, let us not forget that you solved the problem of your mother's low ceiling by cutting off her head!
Baldrick: But this is a really good one; you become a dashing highwayman! Then you can pay your bills and ontop of that, everyone'll want to sleep with you!
Blackadder: Baldrick, I could become a prostitute and pay my bills, and everyone would want to sleep with me, but I do consider certain professions beneath me!

[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: Well, there's Grand Duchess Sophia of Turin. We'll never get her to marry him.
Baldrick: Why not?
Blackadder: Because she's met him.
Baldrick: Which leaves...?
Blackadder: Caroline of Brunswick as the only available princess in Europe.
Baldrick: And what's wrong with her? [Blackadder stands up]
Blackadder: [shouting very loud and very fast]] GET MORE COFFEE! IT'S HORRID, CHANGE IT! TAKE ME ROUGHLY FROM BEHIND! NO, NOT LIKE THAT, LIKE THIS! TROUSER OFF, TACKLE OUT! WALK THE DOG! WHERE'S MY PRESENT!?
Baldrick: [utterly confused] ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT! Which one'd you want me to do first!?
Blackadder: No, that's what Caroline's like! She's famous for having the worst personality in Germany...and as you can imagine, that's up against some pretty stiff competition!
Blackadder: I can see where your daughter gets her ready wit, sir.
Hardwood: I thank you.
Blackadder: Although where she gets her good looks and charm is perhaps more of a mystery.
Hardwood: No one ever made money out of good looks and charm!
Blackadder: You obviously haven't met Lady Hamilton, sir.
Blackadder: CRISIS, BALDRICK, CRISIS! NO MONEY, NO MARRIAGE, MORE BILLS! For the first time in my life, I've decided to follow a suggestion of yours. Saddle Prince George's horse!
Baldrick: Oh sir, you're not becoming a highwayman?
Blackadder: [sarcastically] No, I'm auditioning for the part of Arnold the Bat in Sheridan's new comedy!
Blackadder: Just saddle the Prince's horse!
Baldrick: That'll be difficult; he wrapped her round that gas lamp in the Strand last night!
Blackadder: Well saddle my horse, then!
Baldrick: What'd you think you've been eating for the past two months!?
Blackadder: Well go out into the street and hire me a horse!
Baldrick: Hire 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 fifth week and the Dorset Horse Fetishists Fair tomorrow!? [pause, then Blackadder hurls a saddle and bridle at Baldrick]
Blackadder: Well get this on, then. It looks as though you could use the exercise!

George: [talking about his love for Amy] Oh Amy, bless all ten of your tiny pinkies. [picks up his paper] Now, let's see what's in the paper... OH MY GOD! SHE'S BEEN ARRESTED AND HANGED!
Blackadder: [knowingly] Oh really?
George: It turns out she was a highwayman.
Blackadder: [tuts] These modern girls.
George: Apparently, someone tipped off the authorities and collected the £10,000 reward. What a greasy sneak! If only I could get my hands on him.
Blackadder: [tuts again] You can't trust anyone, these days, sir.
George: It says here that she had an accomplice... [Blackadder drops his tray in fright] ... But they don't know who it was. [The tray flies back Blackadder's hands]

Duel and Duality
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.
[George wants Blackadder to fight the Duke of Wellington in his place; he has offered him money and jewelry, illegal French lithographs and an amusing clock]
Blackadder: 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!

Blackadder Goes Forth

Plan A: Captain Cook
Melchett: Field Marshal Haig has formulated a brilliant new tactical plan to ensure final victory in the field.
Blackadder: Ah. Would this brilliant plan involve us climbing out of our trenches and walking very slowly towards the enemy?
Captain Darling: How could you possibly know that, Blackadder? It's classified information!
Blackadder: It's the same plan that we used last time and the seventeen times before that.
Melchett: Exactly! And that is what is so brilliant about it! It will catch the watchful Hun totally off guard! Doing precisely what we've done eighteen times before is exactly the last thing they'll expect us to do this time! There is, however, one small problem.
Blackadder: That everyone always gets slaughtered in the first ten seconds.
Melchett: That's right. And Field Marshal Haig is worried this may be depressing the men a tad. So he's looking for a way to cheer them up.
Blackadder: Well, his resignation and suicide seems the obvious choice.
Melchett: Hmm, interesting thought. Make a note of it, Darling.
Blackadder: Get me a chisel and some marble, will you, Baldrick?
George: Oh, you're taking up sculpture now, sir?
Blackadder: No, I thought I'd get my headstone done.
George: What are you going to put on it?
Blackadder: "Here lies Edmund Blackadder, and he's bloody annoyed!"
Plan B: Corporal Punishment
Blackadder: I remember Massingbird's most famous case: the Case of the Bloody Knife. A man was found next to a murdered body. He had the knife in his hand. 13 witnesses had seen him stab the victim. And when the police arrived, he said "I'm glad I killed the bastard." Massingbird not only got him off; he got him knighted in the New Year's Honours List. And the relatives of the victim had to pay to wash the blood out of his jacket!
Perkins: Yeah, he's a dab hand at the prosecution as well, sir.
Blackadder: Yes, well, look at Oscar Wilde.
Perkins: Oh yes, butch ol' Oscar.
Blackadder: Big, bearded, bonking, butch Oscar — the terror of the ladies. 114 illegitimate children, world heavyweight boxing champion and author of the best-selling pamphlet "Why I Like To Do It With Girls." And Massingbird had him sent down for being a woopsie.
George: I'm a complete duffer at this sort of thing. In the School Debating Society, I was voted Boy-Least-Likely-to-Complete-a-Coherent... erm...
Blackadder: Sentence?
George: Yeah.
Blackadder: Come on George, with fifty thousand men getting killed a week, who's gonna miss a pigeon!? [he shoots the pigeon]
Melchett: Speckly!? AH! YOU SHOT MY SPECKLED JIM!
Darling: You're for it now, Blackadder! Quite frankly sir,I've suspected this for some time; clearly Captain Blackadder has been ignoring orders with a breathtaking impertinence!
Melchett: I DON'T CARE IF HE'S BEEN ROGERING THE DUKE OF YORK WITH A PRIZE-WINNING LEEK!
Plan C: Major Star
George: You a bit cheesed off, sir?
Blackadder: George, the day this war began, I was cheesed off. Within ten minutes of you turning up, I finished the cheese and moved on to the coffee and cigars. And at this late stage, I am in a cab with two lady companions on my way to The Pink Pussycat in Lower Regent Street.
[Blackadder has just sent Baldrick to clean out the latrines, and when he returns, a massive cheer is heard outside']
Baldrick: Sir, it's all over the trenches!
Blackadder: Well, mop it up then!
Blackadder: Yes, in one short evening, I've become the most successful impresario since the manager of the Roman Colosseum thought of putting the Christians and the lions on the same bill.
[Blackadder is meeting "Bob" Parkhurst, who he realises is actually a woman disguised as a man]
Blackadder: So you're a chap, are you, Bob?
Bob: Oh yes, sir. [bursts out laughing and growls like a tiger]
Blackadder: You wouldn't say that you were a girl at all?
Bob: [nervously] Oh, definitely not sir! I understand cricket, I fart in bed, everything.
Blackadder: Let me put it another way, Bob. You are a girl. And you're a girl with as much talent for disguise as a giraffe in dark glasses trying to get into a "Polar bears only" golf club.
Bob: [Horrified] Oh sir, oh sir, please don't give me away, sir. I just wanted to be like my brothers and join up. I want to see how a war is fought... So badly!
Blackadder: Well, you've come to the right place, Bob. A war hasn't been fought this badly since Olaf the Hairy, High Chief of all the Vikings accidentally ordered eighty thousand battle helmets with the horns on the inside.
Bob: I want to do my bit for the boys, sir!
Blackadder: Oh, really..?
Bob: [pleading] I'll do anything, sir!
Blackadder: Yes, I'd keep that to yourself if I was you.

Blackadder: Bob, take a telegram. "To Mr. C. Chaplin, Sennet Studios, Hollywood, California. Congrats stop. Have found only person in world less funny than you stop. Name Baldrick stop. Signed E. Blackadder stop". Oh, and put a P.S.: please, please, please stop.
Darling: We received a telegram from Mr Chaplin himself at Sennet Studios: "Twice nightly filming of my films in trenches: excellent idea stop. But must insist that E. Blackadder be projectionist stop. P.S. Don't let him ever... stop".
Plan D: Private Plane
Blackadder: Hello? I'd like to leave a message for the head of the Royal Flying Corps. That's Air Chief Marshall Sir Hugh Massingbird-Massingbird VC, DFC and bar. Message reads "Where are you, you bastard?"
Baldrick: Here I am, sir.
Blackadder: For God's sake, Baldrick, take cover!
Baldrick: Why, sir?
Blackadder: Because there's an air raid going on! And I don't want to have to write to your mother at London Zoo and tell her that her only human child is dead!
George: Crikey, but what a show it was, sir! Lord Flasheart's Flying Aces! How we cheered when they spun, how we shouted when they dived! How we applauded when one chap got sliced in half by his own propeller! Well, it's all part of the joke for those magnificent men in their flying machines!
[A plane is heard plummeting and crashing outside]
Blackadder: For "magnificent men", read "Biggest Showoffs Since Lady Godiva Entered the Royal Enclosure at Ascot Claiming She Had Literally Nothing to Wear". I don't care how many times they go "up-diddly-up-up", they're still gits!
Baldrick: Oh, come on, sir! I'd love to be a flier. Up there where the air is clear...
Blackadder: The chances of the air being clear anywhere near you, Baldrick, are zero!
Flashheart: The first thing to remember is always treat your kite [Whacks diagram with his pointer.] like you treat your woman [Whips the air. hard.]
George: Ho-how do you mean, sir? You mean, um... you mean, take her home over the weekend to meet your mother?
Flashheart: No. I mean get inside her five times a day and take her to heaven and back!
Blackadder: I'm beginning to see why the Suffragette Movement want the vote.
Flashheart: Hey, any bird who wants to chain herself to my railings and suffer a jet movement gets my vote!
Blackadder: For two years, the Western Front's been about as likely to move as a Frenchman who lives next door to a brothel, then last night the Germans advance a mile and we land on the wrong side!
Baldrick: I want my mum!
Blackadder: Yes, it'll be good to see her. I imagine a maternally outraged gorilla could be a useful ally when it comes to the final scrap!
Baron von Richthofen: How lucky you English are to find the toilet so amusing! For us, it is a mundane and functional item...for you, the basis of an entire culture!
Blackadder: Flashheart, this is Captain Darling.
Flashheart: "Captain Darling"?! Funny name for a guy, isn't it? [jumps off table and faces Darling] Last person I called "Darling" was pregnant 20 seconds later! Hear you couldn't be bothered to help old Slackie here.
Darling: [stuttering nervously] Oh, well, it... It wasn't quite like that, sir. It's just that we... weighed up the pros and cons and... decided it wasn't a reasonable use of our time and resources. [laughs nervously]
Flashheart: Well, this isn't a reasonable use of my time and resources, but I'm gonna do it anyway.
Darling: What?
Flashheart: This! [headbutts Darling hard, knocking him unconscious]
Plan E: General Hospital
Blackadder: I spy, with my bored little eye... something beginning with "T."
Baldrick: Breakfast!
Blackadder: What?
Baldrick: My breakfast always begins with tea. Then I have a little sausage. Then an egg with some little soldiers.
Blackadder: Baldrick, when I said it begins with "T," I was talking about a letter.
Baldrick: No, it never begins with a letter; the postman don't come 'til 10:30!
Blackadder: Oh, I can't go on like this. George, take over.
George: All right, sir. Um... I spy, with my little eye, something beginning with "R."
Baldrick: Army!
Blackadder: FOR GOD'S SAKE, BALDRICK! "Army" starts with an "A"! He's talking about something with an "R"! [trills the R]
Baldrick: Motorbike!
Blackadder: WHAT?!
Baldrick: A motorbike starts with a Rrrrr!
Blackadder: Right! My turn again. What begins with "Come here" and ends with "OW"?
Baldrick: I dunno.
Blackadder: Come here. [punches Baldrick in the face]
Baldrick: OW!
George: Let's try another one. I hear, with my little ear...something beginning with "B".
Blackadder: What!?
George: Bomb.
Blackadder: [surprised]] I can't hear a bomb.
George: Listen carefully. [the faint whistle of an incoming bomb is heard]
Blackadder: Oh yes...! [there is an almighty explosion as the bomb hits]
George: [reading in his letter] "After the explosion, Captain Blackadder was marvellous. He joked and joked. "You lucky, lucky, lucky bastard!" He cried. Then he lay on his back, stuck his foot over the top of the trench and shouted "Over here, Fritz! What about me? What about me?""

Blackadder: Right pork-face, where's the grub!?
George: Sorry!?
Blackadder: Come on, the moment that collection of inbred mutants you call your relatives heard you were sick, they'll have sent you a hamper the size of Westminster Abbey!
George: [outraged] My family is not inbred!
Blackadder: Come on, somewhere outside Saffron Walden, there's an uncle who's seven feet tall with an Adam's apple that looks like he's trying to swallow a ballcock!
George: I have not got any uncles like that! And anyway, he lives in Waldon-on-the-Naze!

Darling: Don't be ridiculous, Blackadder. You can't suspect me. I've only just arrived.
Blackadder: One of the first rules of counter-espionage, Darling, is to suspect everyone. Believe me, I will be asking myself some very probing questions later on. Now, tell me, what is the colour of the Queen of England's favourite hat?
Darling: How the hell should I know?
Blackadder: I see. Well, let me ask you another question. What is the name of the German head of state?
Darling: Well, Kaiser Wilhelm, obviously.
Blackadder: So you're on first-name terms with the Kaiser, are you?
Darling: Well, what did you expect me to say!?
Blackadder: Darling, Darling, shh. Cigarette?
Darling: Thank you.
[Blackadder places a cigarette in his mouth and lights it. He smokes for a few seconds]
Blackadder: [slaps it away] All right, you stinking piece of crap!
Darling: I beg your pardon!?
Blackadder: [getting up close] Shut your cakehole, sonny, I know you. Tell me, Von Darling, what was it what finally won you over, eh? Was it the pumpernickel or the thought of hanging around with a big men in leather shorts?
Darling: [strangled voice] I'll have you court martialed for this, Blackadder!
Blackadder: What, for obeying the General's orders? That may be what you do in Munich — or should I say München — but not here, Werner. You're a filthy Hun spy, aren't you? Baldrick, the cocker spaniel, please.
Darling: [desperate] Ah! No, no, no, wait! No, look, I'm English! I was born in Croydon! [breathing heavily] I was educated at Ipplethorpe Primary School! I've got a girlfriend called Doris! I know the words to all three verses of "God save the King!"
Blackadder: Four verses!
Darling: Four verses! Four verses! I meant four verses! Look, I'm as British as Queen Victoria!
Blackadder: So your father's German, you're half-German and you married a German?
Darling: [crying] No, no! LOOK, FOR GOD'S SAKE, I'M NOT A GERMAN SPYYYYYYYYYY!
Blackadder: Good, thanks very much. Send the next man in, would you?
Blackadder: I've always been a soldier, married to the army. Book of King's Regulations is my mistress...possibly with a Harrods' lingerie catalogue tucked discreetly between the pages.
Nurse Mary: And no casual girlfriends?
Blackadder: Skirt? If only. When I joined up, we were still fighting colonial wars. If you saw someone in a skirt, you shot him and nicked his country!
Nurse Mary: Well, sir, I'm only a humble nurse, but I did at one point think it might be Captain Darling.
Melchett: Well, bugger me with a fishfork! Old Darling, a Jerry morsetapper? What on Earth made you suspect him?
Nurse Mary: Well, he pooh-poohed the captain here and said that he'd never find the spy.
Melchett: Is this true, Blackadder? Did Captain Darling pooh-pooh you?
Blackadder: Well, perhaps a little.
Melchett: Well then, damn it all, how much more evidence do you need? The pooh-poohing alone is a court-martial offence!
Blackadder: I can assure you, sir, that the pooh-poohing was purely circumstantial.
Melchett: Well, I hope so, Blackadder. You know, if there's one thing I've learned from being in the army, it's never ignore a pooh-pooh. I knew a major: got pooh-poohed; made the mistake of ignoring the pooh-pooh -- he pooh-poohed it. Fatal error, because it turned out all along that the soldier who pooh-poohed him had been pooh-poohing a lot of other officers, who pooh-poohed their pooh-poohs. In the end, we had to disband the regiment -- morale totally destroyed ... by pooh-pooh!
[Nurse Mary has begun reading an 'Ideas' magazine. During the next line, she looks around nervously and puts the paper down, sitting on it]
Blackadder: Yes, I think we might be drifting slightly from the point here, sir, which is that, unfortunately, and to my lasting regret, Captain Darling is not the spy.

Blackadder: Remember you mentioned a clever boyfriend?
Nurse Mary: Yes.
Blackadder: I leapt on the oppurtunity to test you. I asked if he'd been to one of the great universities: Oxford, Cambridge, Hull.
Nurse Mary: Well?
Blackadder: You failed to spot that only two of those are great universities!
Nurse Mary: You swine!
Melchett: That's right! Oxford's a complete dump!
Melchett: Blackadder?
Blackadder: [triumphant] Yes sir?
Melchett: You are now head of Operation Winkle.
Blackadder: Thank you, sir.
Melchett: Darling?
Darling: [chastened] Yes sir?
Melchett: You are a complete arse!
Darling: Thank you sir.
Plan F: Goodbyeee...
George: The war started because of the vile Hun and his villainous empire-building!
Blackadder: George, the British Empire at present covers a quarter of the globe, while the German Empire consists of a small sausage factory in Tanganyika. I hardly think we can be entirely absolved from blame on the imperialistic front.
Baldrick: I heard that it started when a bloke called Archie Duke shot an ostrich 'cause he was hungry.
Blackadder: I think you mean it started when the Archduke of Austro-Hungary got shot.
Baldrick: Nah, there was definitely an ostrich involved, sir.
Blackadder: Well, possibly. But the real reason for the whole thing was that it was too much effort not to have a war.
George: By Gum, this is interesting! I always loved history. The Battle of Hastings, Henry VIII and his six knives and all that!
Blackadder: You see, Baldrick, in order to prevent a war in Europe, two super blocs developed: us, the French and the Russians on one side; and the Germans and Austro-Hungary on the other. The idea was to have two vast, opposing armies, each acting as the other's deterrent. That way, there could never be a war.
Baldrick: Except, well, this is sort of a war, isn't it?
Blackadder: That's right. There was one tiny flaw in the plan.
George: Oh, what was that?
Blackadder: It was bollocks.
Baldrick: So the poor old ostrich died for nothing, then!
Blackadder: [regarding the 1914 Christmas truce] Both sides advanced further during one Christmas piss-up than they managed in the next two and a half years of war!
Baldrick: Remember the football match?
Blackadder: Remember it!? How could I forget it!? I was never offside; I could not BELIEVE that decision!
George: Sir...I'm scared, sir.
Baldrick: I'm scared too, sir.
George: I'm the last of the tiddly-winking leap-froggers from the golden summer of 1914. I don't wanna die...I'm really not overly keen on dying at all, sir.
Blackadder: What about you, Darling? How are you feeling?
Darling: Ah, not all that good, Blackadder. Rather thought I'd get through the whole show. Go back to working at Pratt and Sons. Keep wicket for the Croydon Gentlemen. Marry Doris. Made a note in my diary on the way here. Simply reads..."Bugger".

[last lines of series]
Blackadder: [About Baldrick's last cunning plan] Well, I'm afraid it'll have to wait. Whatever it was, I'm sure it was better than my plan to get out of here by pretending to be mad. I mean, who would have noticed another madman round here? Good luck everybody. [blows whistle, and they go over the top]
Specials

Blackadder: The Cavalier Years
Blackadder: Baldrick, your brain is like the four-headed man-eating haddock-fish-beast of Aberdeen.
Baldrick: In what way?
Blackadder: It doesn't exist.
Blackadder: All right, what's the plan?
Baldrick: This [holds up a pumpkin with a face and wig]
Blackadder: A pumpkin is going to save the king?
Baldrick: I will cover his real head with a cloak and balance the pumpkin on top and cut that off instead and the king survives.
Blackadder: I'm not sure it's going to work, Baldrick. You see, when you've cut it off you have to hold it before the crowd and say "This is the head of a traitor," at which point they will all shout "No, it isn't. It's a large pumpkin with a pathetic moustache drawn on it."
Baldrick: I suppose it's not 100% convincing.
Blackadder: It's not 1% convincing. However, I am a busy man and I can't be bothered to punch you at the moment. Here's my fist. Kindly run towards it as fast as you can.

[Roundheads have surrounded the house]
Baldrick: We're surrounded! What are we going to do!?
Blackadder: Well, at times like this, there is no choice for a man of honour. He must stand, and fight, and die, in defence of is future sovereign! [pause] Fortunately, I'm not a man of honour! [Blackadder tosses the baby to Baldrick, then pulls off his fake beard and wig to reveal a blond, clean-shaven face; he now looks like a Roundhead. At that moment, Roundhead soldiers burst in] Thank God you've come! [points to Baldrick] Seize the Royalist scum!
Blackadder's Christmas Carol
[Blackadder shouts from outside.]
Ebenezer Blackadder: HUMBUG! HUMBUG! HUMBUG!
[Blackadder enters his shop, holding a paper bag]
Ebenezer Blackadder: Humbug, Baldrick?
[Blackadder offers him the bag, which contains humbug sweets.]
Baldrick: Why thank you, Mr. B.
Lord Blackadder: Ah, Melchett! Greetings! I trust Christmas brings to you its traditional mix of good food and violent stomach cramp.
Lord Melchett: And compliments of the season to you, Blackadder. May the Yuletide log slip from your fire and burn your house down.

Nursie: Pity about this, tinky-wink; you always used to love this time of year!
Queenie: I know. Leaving a little mince pie and a glass of wine out for Father Christmas, and then scoffing it, because I was a princess: I could do what I bloody well liked!
Nursie: And wondering if your father's wife would last until Boxing Day without having her head cut off!
Queenie: We knew if he gave her a hat, she'd probably be alright!

Lord Blackadder: [sarcastically] Perhaps Lord Melchett would like to whip me naked through the streets of Aberdeen!?
Lord Melchett: Oh I don't think we need go that far, Blackadder...
Lord Blackadder: [sarcastically] Oh too kind!
Lord Melchett: No...Aylesbury's quite far enough!
Queenie: Now Blackadder, what have you got me?
Lord Blackadder: [having destroyed her Christmas present] Um...
Queenie: I WANT A PREZZIE! Give me something nice and shiny, and if you don't, I've got something nice and shiny for you: it's call AN AXE!
[A reformed Ebenezer Blackadder hands Baldrick the money he just lifted from his niece's fiancée.]
Blackadder: Baldrick, I want you to take this and go out and buy a turkey so large, you'd think its mother had been rogered by an omnibus. I'm going to have a party, and no one's invited but me!
[Mrs. Scratchit arrives to swindle him]
Mrs. Scratchit: Coo-eee!
Blackadder: No peace for the wicked.
Mrs. Scratchit: [soppily] Ah, Mr. Ebenezer, I was wondering if you had perhaps a little present for me? Or had found me a little fowl for Tiny Tom's Christmas?
Blackadder: I have always found you foul, Mrs. Scratchit, and more than a little. [she looks shocked] As for Tiny Tom's Christmas, he can stuff it up his enormous muscular backside.
Mrs. Scratchit: But he's a cripple!
Blackadder: He's not a cripple, Mrs. Scratchit. Occasionally saying "phew, my leg hurts" when he remembers to wouldn't fool Baldrick.
Baldrick: It did, actually.
Blackadder: However, if you want something for lunch, [picks up a pale] take this. It's a pound a lump and, as luck would have it, there are 17 lumps left. [Takes back the money she had swindled from him earlier] Thank you.
Mrs. Scratchit: But what about my Tiny Tom?
Blackadder: If I was you, I'd scoop him out and use him as a houseboat. Good day.
[Mrs. Scratchit walks out, crying]
[Baldrick opens the door to find Queen Victoria, Prince Albert and their aide prepared to give Blackadder a reward for his generosity.]
Queen Victoria: We are Queen Victoria.
Baldrick: What, all three of you?
Lord Blackadder: Baldrick, you wouldn't notice a subtle plan if it painted itself purple and danced naked atop a harpsichord singing "Subtle plans are here again,"
Blackadder Back & Forth
Blackadder: Baldrick, I have a very, very, very cunning plan.
Baldrick: Is it as cunning as a fox what used to be Professor of Cunning at Oxford University but has moved on, and is now working for the UN at the High Commission of International Cunning Planning?
Blackadder: Yes, it is.
Baldrick: Mm... That's cunning!
Blackadder: Fascinating. One of history's great mysteries solved. The dinosaurs were in fact wiped out by your pants.
Blackadder: Well, isn't this a turn-up for the books, Baldrick? You have invented a working time machine and are therefore, rather surprisingly, the greatest genius who has ever lived!
[Blackadder punches William Shakespeare.]
Blackadder: That is for every schoolboy and schoolgirl for the next 400 years! Do you have any idea how much suffering you're going to cause? Hours spent at school desks trying to find one joke in A Midsummer Night's Dream? Years spent wearing stupid tights in school plays saying things like 'what ho, my lord' and 'look, here cometh Othello talking total crap as usual'? Oh, and ... [kicks Shakespeare] That is for Ken Branagh's endless, uncut, four-hour version of Hamlet!
Shakespeare: Who's Ken Branagh?
Blackadder: I'll tell him you said that. And I think he'll be very hurt.
Robin Hood: Well, well! What have we here, my tough band of freedom fighters, who have good muscle tone and aren't gay?!
Blackadder: [crouched beneath Hadrian's Wall] That's odd; the machine seems to be seeking out our DNA across time!
[Atop the wall, a Roman Blackadder and Baldrick stand at attention]
Centurion Blaccadicus: Brilliant, just brilliant!
Legionary Baldricus: What, o Centurion?
Centurion Blaccadicus: We're facing a horde of ginger maniacs, with wild goats nesting in their huge orange beards-or to put it another way, the Scots!-and how does our inspired leader Hadrian intend to keep out this vast army of lunatics!? By building a a three-foot high wall! [sarcastic] A terrifying obstacle! About as frightening as a little rabbit with the word "Boo!" painted on its nose! [Baldricus shudders]
Consul Georgius: Oh come now, Centurion! I won't have that! This wall is a terrific defence mechanism! Surely you're not suggesting that a rabble of Scots could get the better of Roman soldiers!?
[Further conversation is halted by the arrival of General Melchicus]
Consul Georgius: Ah, welcome General!
General Melchicus: Splendid! Good to see you practicing your English, Georgius! [continues in Latin] However, important news- Rome is being attacked on all sides, and so far the Emperor's only response has been to poison his mother and marry his horse. The Senate is therefore withdrawing troops from Britain to defend our Imperial city.
Centurion Blaccadicus: Did you hear that, Balders?
Legionary Baldricus: I certainly did, Centurion!
Centurion Blaccadicus: Back to Rome, at last!
General Melchicus: [in Latin] BAAA!
Consul Georgius: [looking beyond the wall] I say, this is interesting! There appears to be a large orange hedge moving towards us!
Centurion Blaccadicus: That's not a hedge, Consul. That's the Scots!

Blackadder: [to Baldrick, as they run from a mob of bloodthirsty Scots] Last one there gets hacked to pieces by Rod Stewart's great-great-grandfather!

3 comments:

Sebastian Stokes said...

I love blackadder! Thanks for the post.

Blogger said...

Did you know you can shorten your long links with Shortest and make dollars from every visit to your short urls.

Imogen said...

Google "Chris Whitehead school award" and "Isca Academy" and "Rottingdean Longhill school 4 boys" - then still justify that broadcasting Chains to real schoolboys all over the country was anything else than a mass child abuse crime forming part of the same scandal as Savile, the TV elite's history of harming and endangering kids.