From Wikiquote
Jump to: navigation, search

Blackadder (1983, 1986–89, 1999) is a television show which originally aired on BBC One written by Richard Curtis, Ben Elton, and Rowan Atkinson. It traces members of the Blackadder dynasty and their associates through different periods of history.

The Black Adder: The Foretelling Born to be King The Archbishop The Queen of Spain's Beard Witchsmeller Pursuivant The Black Seal
Blackadder II: Bells Head Potato Money Beer Chains
Blackadder the Third: Dish and Dishonesty Ink and Incapability Nob and Nobility Sense and Senility Amy and Amiability Duel and Duality
Blackadder Goes Forth: Captain Cook Corporal Punishment Major Star Private Plane General Hospital Goodbyeee
Specials: The Cavalier Years Christmas Carol Back & Forth
Cast External links

The Black Adder[edit]

The Foretelling[edit]

Opening narration: History has known many great liars. Copernicus. Goebbels. St. Ralph the Liar. [he is shown holding a sign which reads "St. Benedict the Liar"] But there have been none quite so vile as the Tudor King Henry VII. It was he who rewrote history to portray his predecessor, Richard III, as a deformed maniac who killed his nephews in the Tower. But the real truth is that Richard was a kind and thoughtful man who cherished his young wards, in particular Richard, Duke of York, who grew into a big, strong boy. Henry also claimed he won the Battle of Bosworth Field and killed Richard III. Again, the truth is very different; for it was Richard, Duke of York, who became king after Bosworth Field, and reigned for thirteen glorious years. As for who really killed Richard III and how the defeated Henry Tudor escaped with his life, all is revealed in this, the first chapter of a history never before told: the history of... the Black Adder!

Edmund: Ah, Percy, you see how the King picks me out for special greeting?
Percy: No, my lord.
Baldrick: I saw it, my lord.
Edmund: And what is your name, little fellow?
Baldrick: My name is Baldrick, my lord.
Edmund: Then I shall call you... Baldrick.
Baldrick: And I shall call you "my lord," my lord.

Percy: It will be a great day tomorrow for we nobles.
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.
Baldrick: With you at the helm, my lord, we cannot lose.
Percy: Well, we could if we wanted to.
Prince Edmund: Ah, but we won't, Percy. And I shall prove to all that I am a man!
Percy: But you are a man.
Prince Edmund: But how shall it be proved, Percy?
Lord Percy: Well, when they look up that tree in Rutland. [Edmund slaps him]
Prince Edmund: It shall be proved by mine enemies rushing to the water closet in terror!

[Inspiring words before the battle]
Richard III: Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more. Consign their parts most private to a Rutland tree!
Richard: Let 'Blood, Blood, BLOOD!' be your motto! Slit their gizzards!
Harry: Now, I'm afraid that there's going to have to be a certain amount of violence. But at least we know it's all in a good cause, don't we?
Richard III: And gentlemen in London still abed shall think themselves accursed that they were not here, and hold their manhood cheap, while others speak of those who fought with us on Ralph the Liar's Day!

Born to Be King[edit]

[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 strangled, 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.

Dougal McAngus: I hope life doesn't get too boring now you can't pass laws over Scotland.
Edmund: [Laughs feebly then mutters under his breath] I wouldn't pass water over Scotland.

The Archbishop[edit]

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] Don't be mistaken about this appointment, Edward. I've always despised you.
Edmund: Well, you are my father. I mean, you're biased.
King Richard IV: You, compared to your beloved brother Harry, are as excrement as compared to cream!
Harry: Oh, father, you flatter me!
Edmund: And me, also!
King Richard IV: So now, my boy, when I have at last found a use for you, don't try to get out of it!

King Richard IV: [to Edmund] If I needed someone who believed in God, I'd have chosen Harry, not an embarassing little weed like you.

[The Bedside of the dying Lord Craveney:]
Edmund: Someone like you go to Hell? Never. Never!!
Graveney: But I have committed many sins.
Edmund: Haven't we all, haven't we all...
Graveney: I murdered my father...
Edmund: [glances at Richard IV] Well, I know how you feel.
Graveney: ...and I have committed adultery...
Edmund: Well, who hasn't?
Graveney: ...more than a thousand times...
Edmund: Well, it is 1487!
Graveney: ...with my mother.
Edmund: WHAT?
King: Good Lord...
Graveney: You see, I will go to Hell.
Edmund: Well, well, let's take Hell: You know, Hell isn't as bad as it's cracked up to be.
Graveney: What?
Edmund: No, no, no, no. No, you see, the thing about Heaven, is that Heaven is for people who like the sort of things that go on in Heaven, like, uh, well, singing, talking to God, watering pot plants...
Graveney: Ew...
Edmund: Whereas Hell, on the other hand, is for people who like the other sorts of things: [with relish] adultery, pillage, torture — those... areas.
Graveney: Really?
Edmund: Mm! Leave your lands to the Crown, and once you're dead, you'll have the time of your life!
Graveney: Adultery? Pillage? Through all eternity?
Edmund: Yep!
King: (handing over a quill) Well, Graveney? Your decision...
Graveney: Very well. (signs) I leave my lands to the Crown, and my soul in the hands of the Lord. May He treat me like the piece of refuse that I am (rubs his hands together, grinning) and send me to Hell where I belong.
King: Amen.
Edmund: Amen. You're a very lucky man! I wish I could be coming with you, but, you know, being the Archbishop...
Graveney: I'm so sorry.
Edmund: Oh no, that's alright.

The Queen of Spain's Beard[edit]

Messenger: My lord, good news! The Swiss have invaded France!
King: Excellent! Wessex, while they're away, take ten thousand troops and pillage Geneva!
Chiswick: But the Swiss are our allies, my lord.
King: Oh, yes. [to Lord Wessex] Well, get them to dress up as Germans, would you? 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!

Edmund: So, what you're telling me, Percy, is that something you have never seen is slightly less blue than something else you have never seen.
Percy: Umm... yes, my lord.
Edmund: Percy, in the end you are about as useful to me as a hole in the head. A feeling with which you must be very familiar, having never had a brain.

Don Speekingleesh: [translating for the Infanta of Spain] You are the light of my life. I wish to entwine you in my broad thighs.

Baldrick: Why not make her think you prefer the company of men?
Edmund: But I do, Baldrick, I do!
Baldrick: No, no, My Lord. I mean the intimate company of men.
Edmund: You don't mean... like the Earl of Doncaster...?
Baldrick: I mean just like the Earl of Doncaster.
Edmund: That great radish? That steaming great left-footer? The Earl of Doncaster, Baldrick, has been riding side-saddle since he was seventeen!
Baldrick: And who would want to marry the Earl of Doncaster?
Edmund: Well, no-one... Brilliant! Of course! No-one would marry the Earl of Doncaster! Except, perhaps, the Duke of Beaufort.

King: [seeing Edmund dressed in colourful clothes wearing make-up] Morning, Doncaster.

Archbishop: Do you, Edmund Plantagenet, take Maria Escalosa Infanta... [Don Speekingleesh translates the vows, speaking over the Archbishop] OH, DO SHUT UP!
Don Speekingleesh: [turns and addresses the crowd] Silencio!

Witchsmeller Pursuivant[edit]

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 any more!
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[edit]

King: Chiswick, fresh horses! We ride at once to rebellious Stoke, where it is my sworn intent to approach the city walls, bare my broad buttocks and shout "BEHOLD! I honour thee most highly!"

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!

The Hawk: And now, on to the castle, to kill the royal family and claim that throne that isn't mine by right!

Edmund: But he's a mindless killer!
Killers: Hooray!
Edmund: He'll destroy the kingdom!
Killers: Hooray!
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!

Edmund: And now, at last, I shall be king of E... [Dies from the poisoned wine]

Baldrick: I told you to poison the Black Seal's goblets, not poison the whole vat!

Baldrick and Percy: DON'T DRINK THE WINE... (but they arrived too late as everyone is dead).

Blackadder II[edit]


Blackadder: This is the Jane Harrington?
Percy: Yes.
Blackadder: Jane "Bury Me in a Y-Shaped Coffin" Harrington?
Percy: ...I think maybe there are two Jane Harringtons —
Blackadder: No, no... Tall, blonde, elegant.?
Percy: Aye, that's right.
Blackadder: Goes like a privy door when the plague's in town?
Percy: [offended] My Lord!
Blackadder: Come on, get on with your shot. You'll get over her. [pause] I did. [Percy lowers his bow momentarily and glares at Blackadder, then prepares to make his shot again] So did Baldrick, actually. [distracted, Percy accidentally fires his arrow into the general vicinity of Baldrick's groin; Baldrick gives a yelp of pain] You see, she's got this thing about beards, apparently.
Percy: Well, in that case, I'm going to shave! [storms out]
Blackadder: Bad luck, Balders.
Baldrick: Not to worry, my Lord; the arrow didn't in fact enter my body.
Blackadder: Oh, good.
Baldrick: No- by a thousand-to-one chance, my willy got in the way!
Blackadder: [sits down, glances at the arrow boredly] Extraordinary!
Baldrick: Yeah, I'd only just put it there! But now, I will leave it there forever!
Blackadder: Quite so, Baldrick- it can be your "Lucky Willy".
Baldrick: Yes, my Lord- years from now, I'll show it to my grandchildren.
Blackadder: [stands up, pulls the arrow out of Baldrick's groin, causing him to grunt in pain] Baldrick, I think the grandchildren may now be out of the question.

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: What is your name, boy?
Kate/Bob: Kate.
Blackadder: Isn't that a bit of a girl's name?
Kate/Bob: It's short for [pause] Bob.

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]

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!

Kate/Bob: You'll make a lovely bridesmaid Baldrick. Pity me that I have no actual girl chums because we were so poor in our house we couldn't afford friends.
Blackadder: It is strangely in keeping with the manner of our courtship that your maid of honour should be a man.
Baldrick: Thank you very much my lord.
Blackadder: Well, I use the word man in an as broad as possible sense because we all know God made man in his own image. It would be a sad lookout for Christians around the globe if God looked anything like you, Baldrick.

Lord Flashheart: Thanks, bridesmaid, like the beard. Gives me something to hang onto! And Melchie! Still worshipping God? Last thing I heard he started worshipping me! A-HAHAHAHAHA! Nursie! I like it firm and fruity! Am I glad to see you or did I just put a canoe in my pocket?

Lord Flashheart: I have a plan! And it's as hot as my pants!!!


Blackadder: Yes. 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: I think you may be wrong!
Blackadder: You're a sad, laughable figure, aren't you, Percy? Baldrick, what do you think of Percy's new ruff?
Baldrick: Four!
Blackadder: What?
Baldrick: Some beans and some beans is four!
Blackadder: No, now we've moved on - from advanced mathematics to elementary dress making. What do you think of Percy's new ruff?
Baldrick: I think he looks like a bird who's swallowed a plate, my Lord.
Blackadder: No, that's what I think. What do you think? Try to have a thought of your own; thinking is so important. What do you think?
Baldrick: I think thinking is so important, my Lord.

Percy: [on his new neckruff, which is extremely small] The fashion today is towards the tiny.
Blackadder: In which case, Percy, you must have the most fashionable brain in London.

Blackadder: Right, good morning team. My name is Edmund Blackadder, and I'm the new Minister in Charge of Religious Genocide. Now, if you play straight with me you'll find me a considerate employer, but cross me and you'll soon discover that under this playful, boyish exterior beats the heart of a ruthless...sadist...maniac!

Blackadder: Right, Baldrick, is that all clear?
Baldrick: Yes, umm... I've killed someone I shouldn't have killed, and now you want me to put a lady on my head and talk to his old bag!
Blackadder: [annoyed] No, I want you to put a bag on your head and talk to his old lady. [puts the bag on him]
Baldrick: Why? Why do I want a bag on my head?
Blackadder: In order, ning-com-poop, that she should believe that you're her husband!
Baldrick: Why, did he used to wear a bag on his head?
Ploppy: Young Ploppy here has a point, my lord. Lord Farrow never wore a bag; he was an old-fashioned sort of a gent.
Blackadder: Look--
Percy: Well, yes, my lord. I mean, I hadn't meant to mention it, but I have been wondering all along why you should think that Baldrick with a bag on his head is going to be a dead ringer for Lord Farrow, because he's not!
Blackadder: [crossly] Look, cretins, the bag is there in order to obscure Baldrick's own features, and many might think, incidentally, that that would be reason enough for him to wear it! Before I bring in Lady Farrow, I shall explain to her, inventing some cunningly plausible excuse that her husband has taken to wearing a bag! She can then chat to Baldrick, imagining him to be the man she married, and the Queen need never know of my little miscalculation.
Ploppy: Why, my lord, that is a brilliant plan!
Percy: Foolproof!
Blackadder: You're very kind.
Ploppy: Although there is something lurking at the back of my head that bothers me...
Blackadder: It's probably a flea.

[Queenie wishes to see Lord Farrow, who has supposedly been executed]
Blackadder: Percy, this is a very difficult situation.
Percy: Yes, my lord.
Blackadder: Someone's for the chop. You or me, in fact.
Percy: Ah, yes...
Blackadder: Let's face facts, Perc: it's you!
Percy: [nervously] Except, ex-cept... I may have a plan!
Blackadder: [dryly] Oh, yes...
Percy: Yes, eh... How about if we get Lord Farrow's head and body and we take it to the Queen. Except, ex-cept... just before we get in, we start shouting and screaming, and then we come in saying "We were just on our way when he said something traitorous, and so we cut his head off in the corridor just to teach him a lesson!"
Blackadder: Pathetic! Absolutely pathetic! Contemptible! Worth a try! Where did we put the head?
Percy: It's on a spike in traitors cloister.
Blackadder: Oh god! That's where the Queen's gone! Did she know Farrow?
Percy: Oh, yes. They were childhood friends.
Blackadder: Then, if she sees his head on a spike she'll realise, HE'S DEAD!


Blackadder: Bloody explorers. They ponce off to Mumbo-Jumbo Land and come home with a tropical disease, a suntan and a bag of brown lumpy things, and Bob's-your-uncle, everyone's got a picture of them in the lavatory! I mean, what about the people that do all the work?
Baldrick: The servants?
Blackadder: No, me! I'm the people who do all the work! I mean, look at this! [holds up a potato] What is it?
Baldrick: I'm surprised you've forgotten, my lord.
Blackadder: I haven't forgotten, it's a rhetorical question.
Baldrick: Nah, it's a potato.
Blackadder: To you, it's a potato. To me, it's a potato. But to Sir Walter bloody Raleigh, it's fine carriages, luxury estates and as many girls as his tongue can cope with! He's making a fortune out of the things: people are smoking them, building houses out of them... they'll be eating them next!
Baldrick: Stranger things have happened, my lord.
Blackadder: [dismissively] Oh, exactly.
Baldrick: That horse becoming Pope...
Blackadder: For one.

Melchett: Started talking to yourself, Blackadder?
Blackadder: Yes, it's the only way I can be sure of intelligent conversation around here!

[After Queenie's poor pirate imitation]
Melchett: [obviously humouring her] I beg your pardon, Your Majesty, but I was hoping to greet the gallant young sailor who hallooed me as I came in. Perchance he has hauled anchor and sailed away?
Queenie: [giggling] No! It was me!
Melchett: Majesty! Surely not!
Blackadder: [to Melchett] You utter creep.

[Preparing to meet Sir Walter Raleigh]
Queenie: It's him! Oh God, do I look absolutely divine and regal, and yet at the same time very pretty and rather accessible?

Captain Rum: Ah, "Courtiers to the Queen"! You're nothing but lapdogs to a slip of a girl!
Blackadder: Better a "lapdog to a slip of a girl" than a... GIT!

Captain Rum: You have a woman's legs! I'll wager those legs have never been sawn clean off by a falling sail and swept into the sea before your very eyes.
Blackadder: Well, neither have yours.
Captain Rum: That's where you're wrong!
[He pushes away the table he has been sitting at to reveal that he indeed has no legs]
Blackadder: Oh my God...
Captain Rum: No point in changing your mind now; no one else will come. The whole thing's suicide, anyway!

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!
Blackadder: [smiles] You old rascal. Still, who cares? The day after tomorrow, we shall be in Calais. Captain, set sail for France!
[Everyone cheers. Cut to "The Day After The Day After Tomorrow", when everyone looks less excited.]
Blackadder: ... So, you don't know the way to France either?
Captain Rum: No. I must confess that too.
Blackadder: [turns to Percy and Baldrick] Bugger.

[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 fiancé was only a third-rate sailor, but a first-rate second course!

[Blackadder, Baldrick and Percy have been giving everyone presents from their adventure]
Queenie: But what about Melchy and Raleigh? You must have brought something for them as well. Nursie's got her beard, I've got my stick - what about the two boys?
Blackadder: [stalling] Yes, well... [turns to Baldrick, and they reach into his satchel] There was one thing, ma'am... [they pull out one of the bottles Baldrick filled with his own urine] A fine wine! A most delicious beverage! [pours out two tankards for Melchett and Raleigh]
Queenie: Have a taste, boys, and tell us what you think!
[Melchett and Raleigh "sniff the bouquet"]
Sir Walter Raleigh: Oh, it certainly has plenty of nose!
Melchett: Oh yes, this is very familiar...
Blackadder: I'm sure you'll be delighted to hear that there is an inexhaustible supply of the stuff! [shares a smile with Baldrick]


Blackadder: You're a one, aren't you?! When you should be 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 was treating me like a human being!
Blackadder: Look, if I had wanted a lecture of the rights of man, I'd have gone to bed with Martin Luther!

Baldrick: What about this priest?
Blackadder: Tell him to get his sacred backside out of here! And what's more, if he comes begging again, tell him I shall report him to the Bishop of Bath and Wells, who drowns babies during christenings and eats them in the vestry afterwards!
[Baldrick leaves and then suddenly is thrown through the bedroom door with a loud crash.]
Blackadder: [sleepily] Yes, Baldrick, what is it now?
Baldrick: It's that priest, he still wants to speak to you.
Blackadder: And did you tell him about the baby-eating Bishop of Bath and Wells?
Baldrick: I did, my Lord.
Blackadder: And what did he say?
Bishop of Bath and Wells: [entering] 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 straight down to business!

[Blackadder must pay back a £1,000 debt to the Black Church, or else]
Blackadder: [as politely as he can] Tell me, Bishop, let me just "test the water" here, so to speak. Erm... supposing I was to say to you, "I'm a close friend of the Queen's, and I think she'd be very interested to hear about you and Molly and the wimple, so why don't we just call it quits, eh, Fatso?"
Bishop of Bath and Wells: I would say, "Firstly, the Queen would not believe you. And secondly, [draws a hot poker] you'll regret calling me 'Fatso' later today!"
Blackadder: Ah.
Bishop of Bath and Wells: I will have my money by evensong tonight, or [inhales raspily] YOUR BOTTOM WILL WISH IT HAD NEVER BEEN BORN!

Blackadder: The path of my life is strewn with cowpats from the Devil's own Satanic herd!

[Blackadder enters his house and shuts the door]
Blackadder: I cannot believe it! She drags me all the way from Billingsgate to Richmond to play about the weakest practical joke since Cardinal Wolsey got his nob out at Hampton Court and stood at the end of the passage pretending to be a door!
[Baldrick laughs]
Blackadder: Oh, shut up, Balders, you'd laugh at a Shakespeare comedy.
[Percy enters and hugs Blackadder]
Percy: Edmund! Oh, Edmund, I have awaited your return!
Blackadder: And thank God you did, for I was just thinking, "My God, I die in 12 hours, and what I really need now is a hug from a complete prat."
Percy: But fear not, for I have a plan to save the life of my dear, dear friend!
Blackadder: Look, I'm not interested in your bloody friends, what about ME?!

Percy: Do not despair! For I have some small savings carefully harvested from my weekly allowance, set aside against my frail old age. By lucky haps, it is just over a thousand, methinks, and for years has been hidden beyond the wit of any thief, in an old sock...
Percy and Blackadder: ...under the squeaky floorboard...
Percy, Blackadder and Baldrick: ...behind the kitchen dresser.
Percy: [smiles uneasily] You've seen it, then.
Blackadder: Seen it, pinched it, spent it! And the same goes for the two farthings Baldrick thinks he’s got hidden inside that mouldy potato.
Baldrick: Oh, bloody hell!

[Percy is surrounded by chemical apparatus. On the table in front of him is a green blob]
Percy: My Lord! Success! After literally an hour's ceaseless searching, I have succeeded in creating gold! Pure gold! Behold!
Blackadder: Percy, it's green.
Percy: That's right, my Lord.
Blackadder: Yes Percy, I don't want to be pedantic or anything but the colour of gold is gold. That's why it's called "gold". What you have discovered, if it has a name, is some "green".
Percy: [astonished, picking up the blob] Oh Edmund! Can it be true? That I hold here, in my mortal hand, a nugget of purest green?
Blackadder: Indeed you do, Percy. Except it's not really a nugget, is it? It's more of a splat.
Percy: Well, yes, a splat today, but tomorrow - who knows, or dares to dream?
Blackadder: [dryly] So, we three alone in all the world can create the finest green at will?
Percy: Just so! Not sure about counting in Baldrick, actually.
Blackadder: Of course, you know what your great discovery means, don't you, Percy?
Percy: Perhaps, my lord...
Blackadder: That, you Percy, Lord Percy, are an utter berk!
[Percy smiles and clenches his fist in the air]
Blackadder: Baldrick!
Baldrick: My Lord?
Blackadder: Pack my bags, I'm going to sell the house.
Percy and Baldrick: 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 streets.

Mr Pants: [laughing] You've really worked out your banter, haven't you?
Blackadder: No, not really. This is a different thing; it's spontaneous and it's called wit.

Baldrick: Have you got a plan, my lord?
Blackadder: Yes I have, and it's so cunning you can brush your teeth with it!

[Blackadder has just had the Bishop painted in bed with Percy, and is now using it to blackmail him]
Bishop of Bath and Wells: By the horns of Beelzebub, how did you get me into that position?!
Blackadder: It's beautifully framed, don't you think? Which is ironic, really, because that's exactly what's happened to you.
Bishop of Bath and Wells: You fiend! Never have I encountered such corrupt and foul-minded perversity! Have you ever considered a career in the church?!
Blackadder: No, I could never get used to the underwear.


Blackadder: Baldrick! Why have you got a piece of cheese tied to the end of your nose?
Baldrick: To catch mice my lord. I lie on the floor with my mouth open and hope they scurry in.
Blackadder: And do they?
Baldrick: Not yet my lord.
Blackadder: Hardly surprising. Your breath comes straight from Satan's bottom, Baldrick.

Blackadder: 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: Beshrew me, Blackadder! You're in good fooling this morning!
Blackadder: Don't say 'Beshrew me', Percy. Only stupid actors say 'Beshrew me'.
Percy: Oh, how I would love to be an actor! I had a great talent for it in my youth; I was the Man of a Thousand Faces!
Blackadder: How'd you come to choose the ugly mug you've got now, then?
Percy: [laughs] 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!

Blackadder: My aunt and uncle, Lord and Lady Whiteadder – the two most fanatical puritans in England – have invited themselves to dinner here tonight.
Percy: But aren't they the most frightful bores?
Blackadder: Yep. But they have one great redeeming feature: their wallets! More capacious than an elephant's scrotum, and just as difficult to get your hands on!

Queenie: Edmund, quick, quick! Melchett's dying! We must do something!
Blackadder: Well yes, of course. Some sort of celebration!

Melchett: I assure you, Blackadder, what I drank last night would have floored a rhinoceros.
Blackadder: If it was allergic to lemonade.

Melchett: I'm sure we all remember the shame and embarrassment 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 notices Percy and Baldrick giggling]
Blackadder: What is so funny?
Percy: Well, my lord... while Baldrick and I were preparing the t-turnip surprise... we had a surprise! We came across a turnip... that was exactly the same shape... as a 'thingy'!
Blackadder: [long pause]... A 'thingy'?!
Baldrick: A great big 'thingy'! It was terrific!
Blackadder: Size is no guarantee of quality, Baldrick. Most horses are very well-endowed, but that does not necessarily make them sensitive lovers. I trust you have removed this hilarious item?
Baldrick: Oh- yes, my Lord.
Blackadder: Good, because there's nothing more likely to stop an inheritance than a 'thingy'-shaped turnip!
Percy: Absolutely, Edmund... [looks serious for a moment, then breaks into giggles again] But it was jolly funny!!
Baldrick: I found it particularly ironic, my Lord, 'cause I've got a 'thingy' that's shaped like a turnip!
Blackadder: [dismissively] Yes, yes...
Baldrick: I'm quite fun at parties.
Blackadder: Are you?
Baldrick: Yeah, I hide in the vegetable rack and frighten the children!
Blackadder: [crossly] What fun!

Blackadder: So, the plan is, when I call for my 'incredibly strong ale', you must pass me water in an ale-bottle. Have you got that?
Baldrick: Yeah. When you call for ale, I pass water!

[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: [with a malicious smile] I sit on Nathaniel. Two spikes would be an extravagance! I will suffer comfort this once; we shall just have to stick forks in our legs between courses!

[After hearing the boozers hammer on the door]
Lady Whiteadder: Edmund! I trust you have invited no other guests?
Blackadder: Oh, certainly not!
Lady Whiteadder: Good! For where there are other guests, there are people to fornicate with!
Blackadder: Err, quite. I'll just go and tell them to... fornicate off.

[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!

Blackadder: How are we getting on?
Lady Whiteadder: Not good. Let us discuss your inheritance.
Blackadder: Oh good. Drink, first?
Lady Whiteadder: Drink!? [slaps him twice] Wicked child! Drink is urine from the last leper in Hell!
Blackadder: This is only water. This is a house of simple purity.
[A drunken Monk bursts into Blackadder's Puritan dinner, vomits in the fireplace and staggers out]
Monk: GREAT BOOZE-UP, EDMUND! [There is an awkward silence]
Lady Whiteadder: Do you know that man?
Blackadder: [looking behind him for another man] No.
Lady Whiteadder: He called you Edmund.
Blackadder: Oh, know him! Oh yes, I do.
Lady Whiteadder: Then can you explain what he meant by "Great booze-up?"
[VERY long pause, as Blackadder thinks]
Blackadder: [haltingly] Yes, I can. My friend is a missionary... And on his last visit abroad... Brought back with him the chief of a famous tribe... His name is Great Boo... He's been suffering from sleeping sickness... And he's obviously just woken... Because, as you heard, "Great Boo's up."
Percy: [almost suffocating from holding his breath] Well done, Edmund.
Blackadder: [getting up] And I think I'd better go and visit him. Perce, over to you.

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!

[Everyone is in a drunken heap]
Blackadder: [singing] "See the little goblin, see his little feet, and his little nosey-wose, isn't the goblin sweet?"
All: YES!
Queenie: Err, wait a minute - I'm sure there was something very important I had to do to all of you this morning...
[Everyone – including Queenie – giggles at the possibilities]
Melchett: I remember something about... ten thousand florins, was it? Or...?
Lord Whiteadder: I think it was something about an inheritance...
Blackadder: [promptly changing the subject] Look, do you lot want to hear about this goblin or not?!
All: [eagerly] YES!
Blackadder: Right! Well, perhaps this time, I might be allowed to continue. And perhaps finish, with any luck—
[Lady Whiteadder pops out from under Queenie's dress, giggling]
Lady Whiteadder: Luck! Wahey! Get it?!
All: Uh, no...
Lady Whiteadder: Oh come on! LUCK! Sounds almost exactly like f-!
[The episode ends]


Kidnapper: Excuse me, Meister.
Blackadder: What is it? (he gets hit on the head) I said what is it, not hit me on the - (he collapses)

Melchett: As private parts to the gods are we: they play with us for their sport!

Melchett: Let's play a word game.
Blackadder: Okay, make a sentence out of the following words: Face. Sodding. Your. Shut.

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!

Queen: Did you miss me, Edmund?
Blackadder: Madame, life without you was like a broken pencil.
Queen: [confused] Explain...?
Blackadder: Pointless.

Ludwig: Forgive me, Herr Blackadder. I have been neglecting my duties as a host. Please accept my apple-ogies.

Blackadder: It takes more than a maniac trying to cut off my goolies to incongweinience me.
Ludwig: Good. If he had incongwenienced you, I was going to offer you his tongue.
Blackadder: Believe me, sir, if he had incongwenienced me, you would no longer have a tongue with which to make such an offer.
Ludwig: Let me assure you, Herr Blackadder, if I no longer had a tongue with which to make such an offer, you would no longer have a tongue with which to tell me that if I had inconwenienced you, I would no longer have a tongue with which to offer you his tongue.

Ludwig: Ze Master of Disguise vill become ze be Master of ze Vorld! Ha ha ha!

Ludwig: Ah! Qveen Elizabeth. We meet again!
Queenie: Um, I don't think so, actually.
Ludwig: Yes! You remember when you were young, and your father used to take you riding on a magnificent grey pony that you used to kiss and fondle in the stable yard?.
Queenie: Yes.
Ludwig: I, I was the tall and attractive German stable lad who held him.
Queenie: No!
Ludwig: Yes!
Queenie: You?
Ludwig: Uh-huh.
Queenie: Shorty-Greasy-Spot-Spot?
Ludwig: NO! NO, NO, NO! You will - all of you - regret the day that you ever mocked my complexion! I shall return and wreak my rewengie!

Ludwig: (In disguise as Queenie) Now this is a disguise I'm really going to enjoy. If I can just get the voice right.

Blackadder the Third[edit]

Dish and Dishonesty[edit]

Blackadder: [about Pitt the Elder] He's about as effective as a cat-flap in an elephant house. As long as his feet are warm and he gets a nice cup of milky tea in the sun before his morning nap, he doesn't bother anyone until his potty needs emptying!

George: [searching for his socks] They just disappear! Honestly, you'd think someone was coming in here, stealing the damn things and then selling them off!
Blackadder: [chuckles, looking slightly devious] Impossible, sir. Only you and I have access to your socks.
George: Yes, yes, you're right. Still, for me, socks are like sex: tonnes 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 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!
George: 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!
Pitt: You don'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. But since that day, I have been busy every hour God sends, working to become Prime Minister and to fight sloth and privilege wherever I found it!
Blackadder: I trust you weren't too busy to remove the crumpet...!
Pitt: You will regret this, gentlemen! You think you can thwart my plans to bankrupt the Prince by fixing the Dunny-on-the-Wold by-election. But you will be thrashed! I intend to put up my own brother as a candidate against you!
Blackadder: [smugly] Oh, and which Pitt would this be? Pitt the Toddler? Pitt the Embryo? Pitt the Glint in the Milkman's Eye? [Pitt glares at him]
Pitt: Sirs, as I said to Chancellor Metternich at the Congress of Strasburg: "Pooh to you with knobs on!" We shall meet, sirs, on the hustings! [he storms out]
George: I say, Blackadder, what a ghastly squit! He's not going to win, is he?
Blackadder: No sir, because 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."

Vincent Hanna: Prince George, who is described in his party newsheet as "a great moral and spiritual leader of the nation", but is described by almost everyone else as "a fat, flatulent git".

Vincent Hanna: Master William Pitt the Even Younger, no votes, 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 more a decent politician could have done!

Blackadder: [to Baldrick] As a reward, take a short holiday [beat] Did you enjoy it?

[Blackadder opens the door to Pitt]
Blackadder: Well, well, well, if it isn't the Lord Privy Toast-rack! Pull up a muffin, sit yourself down!
Pitt: You don't like me, do you, Mr. Blackadder?
Blackadder: [triumphant] Well, nobody likes a loser.
Pitt: Oh, then that must be why nobody likes you.
Blackadder: [caught offguard] What?!
Pitt: You lost the vote. Your monkey obligingly voted for us.
Blackadder: Oh, God... If you want something done properly, kill Baldrick before you start!

Blackadder: How could I have been so stupid?! Goodbye, Millionaires' Row! Hello, Room 12 of the Budleigh Salterton Twilight Resthome for the Terminally Short of Cash!

Blackadder: I've got a plan so cunning, you could put a tail on it and call it a weasel!

George: Tally-ho, Blackadder! You look has happy as a man who thought a cat had done his business on his pie, but it turned out to be an extra big blackberry!

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[edit]

Prince George: [waking suddenly] Oh, Blackadder! BLACKADDER! [Blackadder walks in]
Blackadder: Your Highness?
Prince George: What time is it!?
Blackadder: Three o'clock in the afternoon, sire.
Prince George: [relieved] Oh thank God for that, I thought I'd overslept!
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.

Baldrick: 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. But today, something's even wronger: that globulous fraud Dr. Johnson is coming to tea.
Baldrick: I thought he was the cleverest man in England?
Blackadder: Baldrick, I'd bump into cleverer people at a lodge meeting of the Guild of Village Idiots!
Baldrick: That's not what you said when you sent him your navel.
Blackadder: Novel, Baldrick, not navel. I sent him my novel.
Baldrick: Well, novel or navel, it sounds a bit like a bag of grapefruits to me.
Blackadder: The phrase, Baldrick, is "a case of sour grapes," and yes, it bloody well is! I mean, he might at least have written back, but no, nothing! Not even a "Dear Gertrude Perkins, thank you for your book, get stuffed, Samuel Johnson."
Baldrick: Gertrude Perkins?
Blackadder: Yes, I gave myself a female pseudonym. Everybody's doing it these days: Mrs. Radcliffe, Jane Austen--
Baldrick: [astonished] What, Jane Austen's a man?!
Blackadder: Of course! A huge Yorkshireman with a beard like a rhododendron bush!
Baldrick: Oh, quite a small one, then?
Blackadder: Well, compared to Dorothy Wordsworth's, certainly! James Boswell is the only real woman writing at the moment, and that's just because she wants to get inside Johnson's britches.
Baldrick: Perhaps your book really isn't any good?
Blackadder: Oh, codswallop! It's taken me seven years, and it's perfect. "Edmund: A Butler's Tale" - a giant rollercoaster of a novel in 400 sizzling chapters. A searing indictment of domestic servitude in the eighteenth century, with some hot gypsies thrown in. My magnum opus, Baldrick; everybody has one novel in them, and this is mine.
Baldrick: And this... [takes a small piece of paper out of his trousers] is mine. My "magnificent octopus"!
Blackadder: [looking at it contemptuously] This is your novel, Baldrick?
Baldrick: Yeah, I can't stand long books.
Blackadder: [reading] "Once upon a time, there was a lovely little sausage called Baldrick, and it lived happily ever after."
Baldrick: It's semi-autobiographical.
Blackadder: And it's completely, utterly awful. Dr. Johnson will probably love it. [bell rings] Oh, speak of the devil. Well, I'd better go and make the great Doctor comfortable. Let's just see how damned smart Dr. Fatty Know-It-All really is! Oh, and prepare a fire for the Prince, will you, Baldrick?
Baldrick: What shall I use?
Blackadder: Oh, any old rubbish will do. Paper's quite good. Here, try this for starters. [crumples up Baldrick's "novel" and throws it at him]

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.
Prince George: Hmm.
Blackadder: Every single one, sir?
Johnson: (confidently) Every single word, sir!
Blackadder: (to Prince) Oh, well, in that case, sir, I hope you will not object if I also offer the Doctor my most enthusiastic contrafribblarities.
Johnson: What?
Blackadder: "Contrafribblarites", sir? It is a common word down our way.
Johnson: Damn! (writes in the book)
Blackadder: Oh, I'm sorry, sir. I'm anaspeptic, frasmotic, even compunctuous to have caused you such pericombobulations.
Johnson: What? What? WHAT?

Blackadder: 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 big batey 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 batey 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 five toes at the end of my leg will soon connect sharply with soft, dangly collection of objects in your trousers. Now for the last time, Baldrick, where is Dr. Johnson's manuscript?
Baldrick: On the fire.
Blackadder: On the what?
Baldrick: The hot, orangy thing under the stony mantelpiece.
Blackadder: You burnt the dictionary?!
Baldrick: Yep.
Blackadder: You burnt the life's work of England's foremost man of letters?!
Baldrick: Well, you did say to burn any old rubbish.

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! [coughs] My consumption grows ever more acute and Coleridge's drugs are wearing off!
Mrs Miggins: Oh, Mr Byron, don't be such a big girl's blouse.

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 round Italy in a big shirt trying to get laid!

Prince George: Perhaps you like me to lend a hand, Blackadder? I am not as stupid as I look.
Baldrick: I am as stupid as I look Sir. But if I can help, I will.
Blackadder: It's very kind of you both but I fear your services will be as useful as a barbershop on the steps to the guillotine.

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 has fallen asleep rewriting the dictionary.]
Baldick: Mr Blackadder, time to wake up.
Blackadder: What time is it?
Baldrick: Monday morning.
Blackadder: [Panicking] Monday morning? Oh my god, I've overslept! Where's the quill? Where's the parchment?
Baldrick: I dunno. Maybe Doctor Johnson has got some with him.
Blackadder: WHAT!
Baldrick: He's outside!
Blackadder: Screams in horror.
[Johnson enters.]
Johnson: Are you ill, sir?
Blackadder: No, you can't have it! I know I said Monday, but I want Baldrick to read it. Which, unfortunately, will mean teaching him to read, which will take about ten years. But time well spent, I think, because it is such a very good dictionary!
Johnson: I don't think so.
Blackadder: Oh god, we've been burgled! ... What?
Johnson: I think it's an awful dictionary full of feeble definitions and ridiculous verbiage. I've come to ask you to chuck the damned thing in the fire.
Blackadder: Are you sure?
Johnson: I've never been more sure of anything in my life, sir.
Blackadder: I love you, Doctor Johnson, and I want to have your babies. [They embrace.]
[A woman randomly appears behind Johnson.]
Blackadder: Oh, I'm sorry. Excuse me Doctor Johnson, but my Auntie Margery's just arrived.
[Blackadder turns round. Baldrick now has a dog's head.]
Blackadder: Baldrick? Who gave you permission to turn into an Alsatian? Oh god, it's a dream, isn't it? :[Johnson, Baldrick and Auntie Margery dance, a la sugar plum fairies.] It's a bloody dream! Doctor Johnson doesn't want us to burn his dictionary at all.

Blackadder: Baldrick, fetch the manuscript.
Baldrick: Manuscript?
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!

Baldick: Mr Blackadder, time to wake up.
Blackadder: What time is it?
Baldrick: Monday morning.
Blackadder: [Panicking] Monday morning? Oh my god, I've overslept! Where's the quill? Where's the parchment?
Baldrick: I dunno. Maybe Doctor Johnson has got some with him.
Blackadder: WHAT!
Baldrick: He's outside!
Blackadder: AH- Hang on. If we carry on like this, you're going to turn into an Alsatian again.

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.

Blackadder: Leaving already Doctor? Not staying for your pendigestatory interludicule?
Dr Johnson: No sir show me out!
Blackadder: Certainly, anything i can do to facilitate your velocitous extramurilisation

Nob and Nobility[edit]

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 coffee 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 any more! My French clientèle 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!

Frenchman: [bows] Ah, bonjour, monsieur.
Blackadder: Sod off!

[Blackadder walks into the kitchen, picks up the cat and kicks it into the air]
Baldrick: Oh, sir! Poor little Mildred the cat, what's he ever done to you?
Blackadder: It is the way of the world, Baldrick. The abused always kick downwards. I am annoyed, and so I kick the cat, the cat [loud squeak] pounces on the mouse, and finally, the mouse--
Baldrick: Argh!
Blackadder: --bites you on the behind.
Baldrick: And what do I do?
Blackadder: Nothing. You are last in God's great chain. Unless there's an earwig around here you'd like to victimize.

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 opportunity 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 against 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?! [the bell for service rings] Ah, his Royal Highness, the Pinhead of Wales, summons me. And you know, I almost feel well disposed towards him today. Utter chump though he may be, at least he's not French!

Prince George: [wanting to come to France] I want to look my best for those fabulous French birds!
Blackadder: Sir, the women currently favoured in France are toothless crones who just cackle insanely.
Prince George: Oh, ignore that, they're just playing hard to get!
Blackadder: By removing all their teeth, going mad and aging forty years?
Prince George: Like I said! The little teasers!

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!

[Instead of France, Blackadder and Baldrick go down to Blackadder's quarters]
Blackadder: Right! Stick the kettle on, Balders.
Baldrick: [confused] What, aren't we going to France?
Blackadder: Of course we're not going to France; it's incredibly dangerous there!
Baldrick: But how are you going to win your bet?
Blackadder: As usual, Baldrick: by use of the large and wonderful thing between my ears.
Baldrick: Oh, your nose.
Blackadder: [annoyed] No, Baldrick, my brain. 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 thousand guineas!
Baldrick: But what if the Prince finds us here?
Blackadder: He couldn't find his fly buttons, let alone the kitchen door!
[Upstairs, the Prince takes out a pair of blue trousers with sliver trimming]
Prince George: What a pair of trousers! I shall be the Belle of the Embassy Ball! Now, how do you put them on? Err... [calls] Blackadder! Oh no, damn, he's gone to France. Well, I'll do it myself; shouldn't be too difficult... Erm... Err... [puts an arm through one trouser leg...]
[A week later, in Blackadder's quarters]
Blackadder: Well, Baldrick. What a very pleasant week. We must do this more often.
Baldrick: [rather bored] Yes, I shall certainly choose Revolutionary France for my holidays again next year.
Blackadder: Still, time to go to work! Off to Mrs Miggins' to pick up any old French toff—
[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.
[Upstairs, the Prince struggles around with his trousers on his head, bumping into walls]
Prince George: Damn!!!

Blackadder: Would you like to earn some money?
Comte de Frou-Frou: No I wouldn't. I would like other people to earn it and then 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! [Points at his dinner] This huge sausage is very suspicious. If I didn't know better, I'd say it was a horse's wi—
Blackadder: Yes, yes, all right.

Comte de Frou-Frou: Have no fear, the Scarlet Pimpernel will save us!
Blackadder: Ha! Some hope. He's the most overrated human being since Judas Iscariot won the AD31 Best Disciple Competition.

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]

Blackadder: If I don't think of something, tomorrow we die – which I have to tell you, Baldrick, I have no intention of doing! I want to be young and wild, and then I want to be middle-aged and rich, and then I want to be old and annoy people by pretending that I'm going deaf!

Baldrick: I couldn't sleep when I was little.
Blackadder: You still are little, Baldrick.
Baldrick: Yeah, well, when I was even littler, see, we used to live in this big haunted hovel. Every night, my parents were troubled by a visitation from this disgusting ghoul. It was terrible. First there was this unholy smell, and then this tiny, clammy, hairy creature would materialize in the bed between them. Strangely I could never see it myself.
Blackadder: [absolutely disgusted] Yyyyyes... Tell me, Baldrick, when you left home, did this repulsive entity mysteriously disappear?
Baldrick: That very day.
Blackadder: I think then that the mystery is solved. Now, either you leave me alone to think of a plan, or tomorrow we meet our maker – in my case, God; in your case, God-knows... but I'd be surprised if he won any design awards.

Sense and Senility[edit]

Baldrick: You look smart, Mr. B. Going somewhere nice?
Blackadder: No, I'm off to the theatre.
Baldrick: Don't you like it then?
Blackadder: No, I don't! A load of stupid actors, strutting about 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: No, no, he loves it. The problem is, he doesn't realize it's made up. Last year, when Brutus was about to kill Julius Caesar, the Prince yelled out "Look behind you, Mr. Caesar!"
Baldrick: I can't see the point in the theatre. All that sex and violence - I get enough of that at home! Except for the sex, of course.
Blackadder: [sitting down] And while we're out, Baldrick, I want you to give this palace a good clean. It's so dirty, it'd be unacceptable to a dung beetle that had lost interest in its career and really let itself go!
George: [from another room] Come on, Blackadder, or we'll miss the first act!
Blackadder: Coming, sir, as fast as I can! [putting his feet up] Stick the kettle on, Baldrick.

[After the Prince is nearly blown up by an anarchist]
George: I must say, Blackadder, that was a close shave! And unexpected as well! I mean, why on earth would an anarchist possibly want to kill you?
Blackadder: I think it was you he was after, sir.
George: Oh, hogwash! What makes you think that?
Blackadder: Well, my suspicions were first aroused by his use of the words "Death to the stupid Prince!"

Blackadder: These are volatile times, Your Highness. The American Revolution lost your father the colonies, the French Revolution murdered brave King Louis, and there are tremendous rumblings in Prussia – although that might have something to do with the sausages. The whole world cries out, "Peace, freedom, and a few less fat bastards eating all the pie!"

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: [to Mrs. Miggins] They do say, Mrs. Miggins, that verbal insults hurt more than physical pain. They are, of course, wrong, as you will soon discover when I stick this toasting fork in your head!

George: Look, Blackadder, this is all getting a bit hairy, isn't it? I mean, are you sure we can even trust these acting fellows? Last time we went to the theatre, 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.
George: Really?
Blackadder: [sharply] Yes!
George: Thundering gherkins! Well, Brutus must have been pretty miffed when he found out!
Blackadder: What?!
George: That he hadn't killed Caesar after all, just some poxy actor called Kemp. What, do you think he went round to Caesar's place after the play and killed him then?
Blackadder: [to himself] Oh God, it's pathetic...!

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, office 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: [touched] Thank you, sir.
Blackadder: ... but as we both know, it would be an utter lie. I will therefore content myself with saying "Sod off, and if I ever meet you again, it'll 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[edit]

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! 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! Pass the biscuit barrel; let's see what's in the kitty, shall we? [empties it] Ninepence. Oh God, what are we going to do?!
Baldrick: Don't worry, Mr B.! I have a cunning plan to solve the problem.
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 all your bills and on top 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! Besides which, I fail to see why a common thief should be idolised just because he has a horse between his legs!

[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. Which leaves us with two.
Baldrick: And what about them?
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]
Baldrick: [flustered] ALL RIGHT, ALL RIGHT! 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: [after noticing a portion of his newspaper has been cut out] Baldrick, why has half the front page been cut out?
Baldrick: I don't know.
Blackadder: You do know, don't you?
Baldrick: Yes.
Blackadder: You've been cutting out the cuttings about the elusive 'Shadow' to put in your highwayman's scrapbook, haven't you?
Baldrick: Oh, I can't help it, Mr B.! His life is so dark and shadowy, and full of fear and trepidation!
Blackadder: So is going to the toilet in the middle of the night, but you don't keep a scrapbook on it!
Baldrick: I do.

George: Honestly, Blackadder, I dunno why I'm bothering to get dressed. As soon as I get to the Naughty Hellfire Club, I'll be debagged and radished for non-payment of debts!
Blackadder: [confused] "Radished", sir?
George: Yes, they pull your britches down and push a large radish right up your-!
Blackadder: Yes, yes, all right! There's no need to hammer it home.
George: Well as a matter of fact, they do often have to-!
Blackadder: [mortified] NO! NO!

George: Right, so what's the plan?
Blackadder: Well, I thought I could take her a short note expressing your honorable intentions.
George: Yes, yes, I think so too. All right then, well take this down: [as Blackadder writes] "From His Royal Highness, the Prince of Wales to Miss Amy Hardwood. Tally-ho, my fine saucy young trollop! Your luck's in! Trip along here with all your cash, and some naughty night attire, and you'll be staring at my bedroom ceiling from now till Christmas, you lucky tart! Yours with the deepest respect, etc., signed George. P.S.: Woof, woof!" Well, what do you think?
Blackadder: ... It's very moving, sir. Would you mind if I change just one tiny aspect of it?
George: Which one?
Blackadder: The words.
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! Rrrrgh! [leaves]
Blackadder: Certainly, sir. [scores out the entire letter]

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 MARRIAGE, NO MONEY, 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 gonna become a highwayman, are you?
Blackadder: [sarcastic] No, I'm auditioning for the part of Arnold the Bat in Sheridan's new comedy!
Baldrick: Oh, that's all right then.
Blackadder: Baldrick, have you no idea what irony is?
Baldrick: Yeah... It's like goldy or bronzey, only it's made of iron.
Blackadder: Never mind, never mind. 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 last 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 fifteenth 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 do with the exercise!

[As Blackadder plans to run off with Amy]
Baldrick: [annoyed] I still can't believe you're leaving me behind!
Blackadder: Don't 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'll stand out in life as an individual!
Baldrick: Will I?
Blackadder: Well, of course you will; all the other slaves will be black!

Blackadder: [to Mrs Miggins] Mrs Miggins, if we were the last three human beings on earth, I'd be trying to start a family with Baldrick!

Blackadder: Oh God, what a way to die! Shot by a transvestite on an unrealistic grassy knoll! [Baldrick appears]
Baldrick: Morning, Mr B.!
Blackadder: Baldrick? Baldrick! Thank you for introducing me to a genuinely new experience!
Baldrick: What experience is that?
Blackadder: Being pleased to see you!

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]
George: ... But they don't know who it was.
[The tray jumps back into Blackadder's hands]

Duel and Duality[edit]

Baldrick: [entering with a letter] Mr. Blackadder?
Blackadder: Leave me alone, Baldrick. If I wanted to talk to a vegetable, I'd have bought one at the market!
Baldrick: Don't you want this message?
Blackadder: No, thank you. God, I'm wasted here. It's no life for a man of noble blood, being servant to a master with the intellect of a jugged walrus and all the social graces of a potty!
Baldrick: I'm wasted too. I've been thinking of bettering myself.
Blackadder: Oh really, how?
Baldrick: I applied for the job of village idiot of Kensington.
Blackadder: Oh. Get anywhere?
Baldrick: I got down to the last two, but I failed the final interview.
Blackadder: Oh, what went wrong?
Baldrick: I turned up. The other bloke was such an idiot, he forgot to.
Blackadder: Yes, I'm afraid my ambitions stretch slightly further than professional idiocy in West London! 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. Now, what's this message?
Baldrick: I thought you didn't want it.
Blackadder: Well, I may do, it depends what it is.
Baldrick: So you do want it?
Blackadder: Well, I don't know, do I? It depends what it is.
Baldrick: [frantically] Well, I can't tell you what it is unless you want to know, and you said you didn't want to know, and now I'm so confused, I don't know where I live or what my name is!!
Blackadder: Your name is of no importance, and you live in the pipe in the upstairs water closet.

[Blackadder reads a message from the Duke of Wellington to the Prince Regent]
Blackadder: "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 funnny and people who do end up dead.)"

[Baldrick explains his cunning plan to save the Prince]
Baldrick: Well, I just thought; this Wellington bloke's been in Europe for years. You don't know what he looks like, he don't know what you look like, so why don't you get someone else to fight the duel instead of you?
The Prince Regent: But I'm the Prince Regent! My portrait hangs on every wall!
Blackadder: Answer that, Baldrick.
Baldrick: Well, my cousin Bert Baldrick, Mr. Gainsborough's butler's dogsbody, says that he's heard all portraits look the same these days, 'cause they're painted to a romantic ideal, rather than as a true depiction of the idiosyncratic facial qualities of the person in question.
[Blackadder and the Prince look astonished]
Blackadder: Your cousin Bert obviously has a larger vocabulary than you do.

[After Baldrick suggests Blackadder fight the duel]
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?!

[Blackadder and the Prince Regent are disguised as each other]
The Prince Regent: Excellent! Why, my own father wouldn't even recognize me!
Blackadder: Your own father never can, sir - he's mad.

Duke of Wellington: Take my hat at once, unless you wish to feel my boot in your throat, and be quicker about it than you were with the door!
The Prince Regent': Yes, M'lud.
Duke of Wellington: (cuffs him on the head) I'M A DUKE, NOT A LORD! Where were you trained, a dago dancing class?! Shall I have my people thrash him for you, Highness? (the Prince frantically signals him not to)
Blackadder: Err, no. He's new, and at the moment I'm sparing the rod.
Duke of Wellington: Ah, fatal error. Give 'em an inch, and before you know it they've got a foot; much more than that, and you won't have a leg to stand on! [sees George still standing there and clouts him] GET OUT! [wellington turns back to Blackadder] Now, to business; I am told your royal father grows ever more eccentric and at present, believes himself to be...[Wellington consults his report] "a small village in Lincolnshire, commanding spectacular views of the Nene Valley". I therefore pass my full report of the war on to you, the Prince of Wales.
Blackadder: Ah, thank you. [Blackadder opens the report. It contains a single slip of paper] "We won. Signed Wellington".

Duke of Wellington: Britain has the finest trade, the finest armies, the finest navies in the world- and what do we have for royalty? (looks contemptuously at Blackadder) A mad Kraut sausage-sucker, and a son who can't keep his own sausage to himself! The sooner you're dead, the better
Blackadder: You're very kind.
Duke of Wellington: Now! You're no doubt anxious to catch up with the latest news of the war. (taps a roll of papers he is carrying) I have here the most recent briefs from my general in the field.
Blackadder: Yes, well, if you could just pop them in the laundry-basket on the way out?... (Wellington gives him a blank look) Tea?
Duke of Wellington: Yes, immediately. (Blackadder rings for tea, Wellington sits down) Now, let's turn to the second front, my lord. (pulls out a map)
Blackadder: Ah, yes. (sits down, studies the map) Now, as I understand it, Napoleon is in North Africa; and Nelson is stationed in...?
Duke of Wellington: Alaska, Your Highness. In case 'Boney' should try to trick us by coming via the North Pole.
Blackadder: (stares at him incredulously for a moment) Yessss... well, perhaps a preferable strategem, Your Grace, might be to harry him amidships as he tries to leave the Medditeranean... uh, Trafalgar might be quite a good spot.
Duke of Wellington: (intrigued) Trafalgar, eh? Well, I'll mention it to Nelson. I must say, I'm beginning to regret the necessity of killing you, Your Highness- I'd been told by everybody that the Prince was a confounded moron!
Blackadder: Oh, no, no, no. (the door opens)
Duke of Wellington: Oh, hell and buckshot, here's that tiresome servant of yours again.(Prince George comes back in with a tea-tray, sets it directly on the map, and sits next to Blackadder)
The Prince Regent: (to Blackadder) Oh- budge up, budge up.
The Prince Regent: (stands up, chuckles) Oh, cripes, yes, I forgot-
Duke of Wellington: (cuffs him in the head) You'll speak when spoken to- unless you'd rather be flayed across a gun-carriage! WELL?! (punches Prince George in the jaw, knocking him down; Blackadder hastily stands up and helps the Prince up)
Blackadder: Sir, Sir- I fear you have been too long a soldier! We no longer treat servants that way in London society.
Duke of Wellington: Why, I hardly touched the man!
Blackadder: I think you hit him rather hard.
Duke of Wellington: Nonsense! (hits George even harder, knocking him down again) That would have been a hard hit! I just hit him like that! (hits the Prince just slightly softer as he gets up)
Blackadder: No, sir. A soft hit would be like this. (hits George lightly) Whereas you hit him like this (punches George very hard and knocks him down again)
The Prince Regent: (winded and bruised from the attacks) ...I- I wonder if I might be excused, Your Highness Your Highness?
Blackadder: Certainly. (aside, to the Prince) I'm sorry about that, sir, but one has to keep up the pretense.
The Prince Regent: Oh, quite understand! You -you carry on the good work!
Blackadder: Very well, sir. (punches and knocks him down again)
Duke of Wellington: (having taken a sip from his cup) Hang on- this is bloody coffee! I ordered tea! (storms across the room and grabs Prince George by the ear) Confounded fool, aren't you?! I'd heard everywhere that the Prince was the imbecile whereas his servant Blackadder was respected about the town! Now that I discover the truth, I am disposed to beat you to death! (puts his mouth next to George's ear and yells) TEA!! (boots George's rear end as he flees with the coffee-tray)

Blackadder:: Tell me, do you ever stop shouting at the lower orders?
Duke of Wellington: NEVER! There's only one way to win a campaign: SHOUT, SHOUT AND SHOUT AGAIN!
Blackadder: You don't think inspired leadership and tactical ability has anything to do with it?
Duke of Wellington: (pause) NO! It's all down to shouting! BAAAH!
Blackadder: I hear that conditions in your Army are appalling.
Duke of Wellington: Well, I'm sorry, but those are my conditions, and you'll just have to accept them - until this evening, that is (grins nastily) when I shall kill you.
Blackadder: Who knows? Maybe I shall kill you.
Duke of Wellington: (scoffing) Nonsense. I've never been so much as scratched. My skin is as smooth as a baby's bottom... which is more than you can say for my bottom.

The Prince Regent: Good portents for your duel, do you think?
Blackadder: Not really, sir. I'm afraid that the duel is off.
The Prince Regent: Off?!
Blackadder: As in "Sod". I'm not doing it.
The Prince Regent: [outraged] By thunder, here's a pretty game! You will stay, sir, and do duty by your Prince, or I shall--
Blackadder: [bitingly] Or what, you port-brained twerp?! I've looked after you all my life! Even when we were babies, I had to show you which bit of your mother was serving the drinks!

[George wants Blackadder to fight the Duke in his place; he has offered him money and jewellery, illegal French lithographs and a lewd cuckoo 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!

[Scheming with Baldrick about how to win the duel with the Duke]
Blackadder: Right, now here's the plan. When he offers me the swords... I kick him in the nuts and you set fire to the building. In the confusion, we claim a draw.

Wellington: [outraged by George's latest action] What in the name of Bonaparte's balls is this fellow doing now?!

Mrs Miggins: You just seem to keep missing each other, I can't imagine why! [MacAdder bursts in]
MacAdder: I'll tell you why; it's because there's no coffee shop in England big enough for two Blackadders!
Blackadder: Ah, good day cousin MacAdder! I trust you are well?
MacAdder: Aye, well enough.
Blackadder: And Morag?
MacAdder: She bides fine.
Blackadder: And how how stands that mighty army, the clan MacAdder?
MacAdder: They're both well.
Blackadder: I always thought Jamie and Angus were such fine boys.
MacAdder: Angus is a girl. [pause] So, tell me cousin, 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.
MacAdder: Aye, and what's in it for me?
Blackadder: Enough cash to buy the Outer Hebrides. What do you think?
MacAdder: Fourteen shillings and sixpence? 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 MacAdder!
Mrs. Miggins: And I shall wear the granite gown and limestone bodice of MacMiggins, Queen of all the herds!
Blackadder: For God's sake, MacAdder, you are 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!
MacAdder: Oh blast! I forgot the bailiffs.
Blackadder: So we can return to our original plan?
MacAdder: No, I'm not interested! I'd rather go to bed with the Loch Lomond Monster...and besides, I have to be back in the office by Friday; I promised Mr. McNulty I'd shift a particularly difficult bloater for him! No, forget the whole thing, I'm off home with Miggsie!
Mrs. Miggin: Yes, yes! Show me the glen where the kipper roams free! And forget Morag forever!
MacAdder: No, never! We must do right by Morag; we must return to Scotland and you must fight her in the old Highland way...bare breasted and each carrying an eight pound baby!
Mrs Miggins: Oh, yes, yes! I love babies!
MacAdder: You're a woman of spirit; I look forward to bedding you in the old Highland manner! Farewell Blackadder, ya spineless goon! [he and Miggins depart]
Blackadder: Oh, God. Fortune vomits on my eiderdown once more!

Blackadder Goes Forth[edit]

Plan A: Captain Cook[edit]

[First lines]
Blackadder: Baldrick, what are you doing out there?
Baldrick: I'm carving something on this bullet, sir.
Blackadder: What are you carving?
Baldrick: I'm carving "Baldrick", sir!
Blackadder: Why?
Baldrick: It's part of a cunning plan, actually!
Blackadder: Of course it is.
Baldrick: You know how they say that somewhere there's a bullet with your name on it?
Blackadder: [haltingly] Yyyyyyyyes...?
Baldrick: Well, I thought that if I owned the bullet with my name on it, I'll never get hit by it! Cause I'll never shoot myself...
Blackadder: Oh, shame!
Baldrick: ... and the chances of there being two bullets with my name are very small indeed!
Blackadder: Yes, it's not the only thing around here that's "very small indeed". Your brain, for example. Is so minute, Baldrick, that if a hungry cannibal cracked your head open, there wouldn't be enough to cover a small water biscuit.

[After Baldrick suggests a cunning plan of joining the Catering Corps. to get out of the trenches]
Blackadder: There is however one slight flaw in the plan; you're the worst cook in the entire world!
Baldrick: Oh yeah.
Blackadder: There are amoeba on Saturn who could boil a better egg than you. Your filet mignons in sauce bernaise look like dog turds in glue!
Baldrick: That's because they are.
Blackadder: Your plum duff tastes like it's a molehill decorated with rabbit droppings.
Baldrick: I thought you wouldn't notice...
Blackadder: And your cream custard has the texture of cat vomit.
Baldrick: Again, it's...
Blackadder: If you were to serve up one of your meals at Staff HQ, you'd be arrested for the greatest mass poisoning since Lucretia Borgia invited 500 of her close friends for a wine and anthrax party!

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.

George: Permission to sing boisterously, sir?
Blackadder: If you must.
George and Melchett: [singing] Row, row, row your punt
Gently down the stream!
Belts off, trousers down!
Isn't life a scream?! OY!
Blackadder: Fabulous. University education; you can't beat it. (Melchett moves on to Baldrick)
Melchett: Now then, what have we here? Name? (Baldrick watches him silently)
Blackadder: Permission to speak.
Baldrick: Baldrick, sir!
Melchett: Ah- Tally-ho, Yippity-Dap and Zing-Zang Spillip! Looking forward to bullying off for the final chucker? (Baldrick stares at him silently)
Blackadder: Permission to speak. (Baldrick doesn't say anything) Answer the General, Baldrick.
Baldrick: I can't answer him, sir- I don't know what he's talking about. (Melchett laughs)
Melchett: (pinches Baldrick's cheek) Are you looking forward to the Big Push?
Baldrick: (pinches Melchett's cheek, deadpan) No, sir, I'm absolutely terrified!
Melchett: (laughs) Mmm- the healthy humor of the honest Tommy! (chuckles and slaps Baldrick on the side of the head) Don't worry, my boy- if you should falter, remember that Captain Darling and I are behind you!
Blackadder: (scathingly)... About 35 miles behind you. (Darling glares at him)

George: If we should step on a mine sir, what should we do?
Blackadder: Well the normal procedure is to leap 200 feet into the air and scatter yourself over a large area.

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[edit]

Repeated line: We didn't receive any messages, and Captain Blackadder definitely did not shoot this delicious plump-breasted pigeon!

Blackadder: Come on George, with fifty thousand men getting killed a week, who's gonna miss a pigeon?! [he shoots the pigeon]
[Later, when Melchett realizes Blackadder shot his pet pigeon, Speckled Jim]
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!

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: I hear he's a dab hand at the prosecution as well, sir.
Blackadder: Yes, well, look at Oscar Wilde.
Perkins: Ol' butch Oscar.
Blackadder: Yep! 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 whoopsie.

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: I wouldn't get your hopes up, Darling. Any reasonably impartial judge is bound to let me off.
Darling: [smugly] Well, of course.
Blackadder: Who is the judge?
Melchett: BAAAAA!
Blackadder: I'm dead.

Melchett: Anything to say before we kick off, Captain Darling?
Darling: May it please the court, as this is clearly an open and shut case, I beg leave to bring a private prosecution against the defence counsel for wasting the court's time.
Melchett: Granted. The defence counsel is fined £50 for turning up!

[Baldrick is called up as a defense witness for Blackadder]
Blackadder: Deny everything, Baldrick.
George: [questioning him in the stand] Are you Private Baldrick?
Baldrick: No!
George: Um, but you are Captain Blackadder's batman?
Baldrick: No!
George: Come on, Baldrick, be a bit more helpful. It's me!
Baldrick: No it isn't!

[Blackadder's rather jovial firing squad visits him in his cell]
Squad Leader: You see, us firing squads are a bit like taxmen, sir - everyone hates us, but we're just doin' our job, aren't we, lads? [he and the squad laugh]
Blackadder: [dryly] My heart bleeds for you.
Squad Leader: Well, sir, we "aim" to please! [he and the squad laugh]
Squad man: Just a little firing squad joke there, sir!
Squad Leader: You see, sir, we take pride in the termanatory service we supply. So, is there any particular area you'd like us to go for? We can aim anywhere.
Blackadder: Well, in that case, just above my head might be a good spot.
[The firing squad laugh]
Squad Leader: You see! A laugh and a smile, and all of a sudden the job doesn't seem quite so bad after all, does it, sir?
Squad man: [observing Blackadder closely] No! And a lovely roomy forehead...
Squad man 2: A good pulse and jugular there as well...
Blackadder: [abruptly] Look, I'm sorry, I know you mean to be friendly, but I hope you won't take it amiss if I ask you to sod off and die!
[The firing squad soldiers are offended and start to complain]
Squad Leader: No, no, no, fair enough. 'Course not, sir. No one likes being shot first thing in the morning, do they, lads? [the rest of the firing squad voices agreement] So, look forward to seeing you tomorow, sir! You'll have a blindfold on of course, but you'll recognize me. I'm the one that says, "Ready, aim, fire!"
Blackadder: Can I ask you to leave a pause between the word "aim" and the word "fire"? Thirty or forty years, perhaps?
[The firing squad laugh]
Squad Leader: Ahh, wish I could pause, sir, I really wish I could. But I can't, you see, 'cos I'm a gabbler, me, you see. "READYAIMFIRE!!!" [laughs]

[After Blackadder has gotten a reprieve, no thanks to George and Baldrick]
Blackadder: I'm not a religious man as you know, but henceforth, I shall nightly pray to the God who killed Cain and squashed Samson that he comes out of retirement and gets back into practice on the pair of you! [the phone rings] Captain Blackadder speaking. Ah, Captain Darling. Yes, well some of us just have friends in high places, I suppose. Yes I can hear you perfectly. You want what? You want two volunteers for a mission into no-man's land? Code name: "Operation Certain Death"? Yes, I think I have just the fellows. [he hangs up and grins cruelly at George and Baldrick] God is very quick these days!

Plan C: Major Star[edit]

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: [regarding Charlie Chaplin] I find his films about as funny as getting an arrow through the neck, and then finding there's a gas bill tied to it!

Blackadder: Thank you George, but if you don't mind, I'd rather have my tongue beaten wafer-thin by a steak tenderizer and then stapled to the floor with a croquet hoop.
[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!
Baldrick: No sir, the news! The Russian Revolution has started! The masses have risen up and shot all their nobs!
George: Well, hurrah!
Blackadder: Oh no, the bloody Russians have pulled out of the war!
George: Well, we soon saw them off, didn't we?! Miserable, slant-eyed sausage-eating swine!
Blackadder: The Russians are on our side, George.
George: [surprised] Are they? Oh.
Blackadder: And they've abandoned the Eastern Front.
Baldrick: And they've overthrown Nicholas II who used to be bizarre!
Blackadder: Who used to be the tsar, Baldrick. The point is that now that the Russians have made peace with the Kaiser, at this very moment a quarter of a million Germans are leaving the Russian Front and coming here with the express purpose of using my nipples for target practice!

Blackadder: Baldrick, the slug is dead. If it failed to cling on to life, I see no reason why it should wish to cling on to your upper lip!

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 myself if I were you.

Blackadder: Baldrick, no! It's the worst plan since Abraham Lincoln said "Oh, I'm sick of kicking around the house tonight, let's go take in a show!". For a start, General Melchett is in mourning for the woman of his dreams: he is unlikely therefore to be in the mood to marry a two-legged badger wrapped in a curtain! Secondly, we are looking for a great entertainer, and you're the worst entertainer since Saint Paul the Evangelist toured Palestine with his trampoline act! No, we'll have to find somebody else.
George: What about Corporal Cartwright, sir?
Blackadder: Corporal Cartwright looks like an orangutan. I've heard of the bearded lady, but the all-over-body-hair lady frankly just isn't on!
George: Willis?
Blackadder: Too short.
George: Petheridge?
Blackadder: Too old.
George: Taplow?
Blackadder: Too dead. Oh, it's hopeless. There just isn't anyone!
[Bob is heard singing in the shower]
Blackadder: [with renewed hope] What am I doing?! Bob!
Bob: [enters wearing towels] Sir?
George: [STILL not realising Bob is a girl] Sir, what a brilliant idea! Bob, can you think of anyone that could be our leading lady?

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."
[Later in the episode, when Blackadder's show is cancelled and Charlie Chaplin agrees to have his films shown in Allied trenches to raise morale]
Darling: We received a telegram from Mr. Chaplin himself at Sennet Studios: "Twice nightly screening 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".

Melchett: Who can explain the mysteries of love? I'm in love with Georgina, Blackadder. I'm going to marry her on Saturday and I want you to be my best man.
Blackadder: I don't think that would be a very good idea, sir.
Melchett: And why not?
Blackadder: Because there's something wrong with your fiance, sir.
Melchett: Oh my god, she's not Welsh, is she?!

Plan D: Private Plane[edit]

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 finds Blackadder and Baldrick taking shelter from the air raid under a table]
George: Oh, hello! What's going on here? Game of hide and seek? Excellent! Right, now I'll go and count to a hundred. Err, no, better make it five, actually...
Blackadder: George?
George: Err... Oh, it's sardines! Oh, excellent! That's my favourite one, that--
Blackadder: [rising up] GEORGE!
George: Yes, sir?
Blackader: Shut up, and never say anything again as long as you live.
George: Right you are, sir... Crikey, but what a show it was, sir! Lord Flashheart'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 jumps into the trench]
Flashheart: Ha! Eat knuckle, Fritz!
[Flashheart punches Blackadder and he falls to the ground. Flashheart places a foot on his chest.]
Flashheart: How disgusting. A boche on the sole of my boot. I shall have to find a patch of grass to wipe it on.
[Flashheart gets off Blackadder]
Flashheart: Probably get shunned in the officers' mess! "Sorry about the pong, you fellows. Trod in a boche and can't get rid of the wiff!"
[Blackadder gets up]
Blackaddder: Do you think we could dispense with the hilarious doggy-do metaphor for a moment? I'm not a boche, this is a British trench.
Flashheart: Is it? Oh that's a piece of luck. Thought I'd landed sausage-side! Ha!
[Flashheart pushes Blackadder]
Flashheart: Mind if I use your phone? If word gets out that I'm missing, 500 girls will kill themselves. I wouldn't want them on my conscience, not when they ought to be on my face!
[Flashheart kicks the phone]
Flashheart: Hi. Flashheart here. Yeah, cancel the state funeral, tell the king to stop blubbing. Flash is not dead! I simply ran out of juice! Yeah, and before the girls start saying "Oh, what's the point of living anymore?", I'm talking about petrol! Woof, woof! Yeah, I dumped the kite on the proles, so send a car. General Melchett's driver should do. She hangs around with a big nob, so she'll be used to a fellow like me! Woof, woof!
Blackadder: Look, do you think you can make your obscene phone call somewhere else?
Flashheart: [taking not a blind bit of notice] No, not in half an hour, you rubber-desk Johnny! Send the bitch with the wheels right now, or I'll fly back to England and give your wife something to hang her towels on!
[Flashheart slams the phone down]
Flashheart: Okay, dig out your best booze and lets talk about me 'till the car comes! You must be pretty impressed having squadron commander The Lord Flashheart drop in on your squalid bit of line!
Blackadder: Actually, no, I was more impressed by the contents of my handkerchief, the last time I blew my nose.
Flashheart: Yeah, like hell. You've probably got little piccies of me on the wall of your dugout, haven't you? I bet you go all girly and giggly every time you look at me!
Blackadder: I'm afraid not. Unfortunately, most of the infantry think you're a prat. Ask them who they'd prefer to meet, Squadron Commander Flashheart and the man who cleans out the public toilets in Aberdeen, and they'd go for Wee Jock 'Poo-Pong' Mcplop every time!
[Flashheart laughes and then punches Blackadder in the face]

Darling: Oh, you want to join the Royal Flying Corps?
Blackadder: There's a thought. Could I?
Darling: No you couldn't. Goodbye!
Blackadder: Come on Darling, just give me an application form!
Darling: It's out of the question! This is simply a ruse to waste five months of training, after which you'll claim you can't fly after all because it makes your ears go pop! Come on, I wasn't born yesterday, Blackadder!
Blackadder: More's the pity, we could have started your personality from scratch!

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!

Flashheart: Right, I'll see you in ten minutes for takeoff!
Blackadder: Hang on, hang on! What about the months of training?!
Flashheart: Hey wet-pants, this isn't the Women's Auxiliary Balloon Corps; you're in the Twenty Minuters now!
Darling: [from the back of the room] Sir? Sir?
Flashheart: Yes, prat at the back!
Darling: Sir, I think we'd all be intrigued to know why you're called the Twenty Minuters?
George: Oh, Mr. Thicko, imagine not knowing that! [George and Blackadder were given the impression beforehand pilots only flew for twenty minutes]
Flashheart: Well it's simple! The average life expectancy of a new pilot is twenty minutes!
Darling: [gleefully] Ah. [Blackadder and George look deeply unnerved]
Blackadder: Life expectancy of twenty minutes?!
Flashheart: That's right! Goggles on, chocks away, last one back's a homo! Hurray! [Flash and the other recruits run out. Blackadder consults his watch]
Blackadder: So we take off in ten minutes, we're in the air for twenty minutes, which means we should be dead by twenty five to ten!

[As their plane nose-dives into a crash]
Baldrick: Let's hope we land on something soft!
Blackadder: Fine, I'll try and aim between General Melchett's ears!

[After being shot down behind German lines]
Blackadder: I don't believe it - a German prison cell! For two and a half 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: Oh dear, Captain B., my tummy's gone all squirty!
Blackadder: That's because you're scared, Baldrick, and you're not the only one. I couldn't be more petrified if a wild rhinoceros had come home from a hard day at the swamp and found me wearing his pyjamas, smoking his cigars and in bed with his wife!
Baldrick: I've heard what these Germans'll do, sir; they'll have their wicked way with anything of woman-born!
Blackadder: Well, in that case, Baldrick, you're quite safe! However, the Teutonic reputation for brutality is well-founded: their operas last three or four days, and they have no word for "fluffy".
Baldrick: I want my mum!
Blackadder: Yes, it'll be good to see her. I should imagine a maternally outraged gorilla could be a useful ally when it comes to the final scrap! [Footsteps are heard approaching] Prepare to die like a man, Baldrick...or as close as you can get to one without actually shaving the palms of your hands!

Blackadder: For us, the Great War is finito. A war which would have been a damn sight simpler if we'd just stayed in England and shot 50,000 of our men a week!

[While speaking to Blackadder and hearing him make a toilet humour joke]
Baron von Richthofen: Ha ha ha! You English and your sense of humour! 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!

Flashheart: Just because I can give multiple orgasms to the furniture just by sitting on it, doesn't mean that I'm not sick of this damn war. The blood, the noise, the endless poetry...!

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] All right, Slackie, all right, Slackie, I've gotta fly; two million chicks and only one Flashheart! And always remember: if you want something, take it! BOBBY!
[Bob walks in]
Bob: My lord?
Flashheart: I want something!
Bob: [Unbuttoning her coat] Take it!
Flashheart: WOOF!
Blackadder: [Under his breath] Git.
[As Flashheart and Bob exit, Melchett enters the room]
Melchett: Ah, Blackadder! So you escaped?
Blackadder: Yes sir.
Melchett: Bravo! [Briefly glances at the unconscious Darling] Don't slouch, Darling.
Blackadder: I wonder whether, having been tortured by the most vicious sadist in the German army, I might have a week's leave to recuperate.
Melchett: Splendid idea! Your commanding officer would have to be stark raving mad to refuse you!
Blackadder: Well, you are my commanding officer.
Melchett: Well?
Blackadder: Can I have a week's leave to recuperate, sir?
Melchett: [Outraged] Certainly not!
Blackadder: Thank you, sir.
Melchett: BAAA!

Plan E: General Hospital[edit]

George: I spy, with my little eye, something beginning with... "M"!
Baldrick: Err... Ummm...
George: [indicating a mug on the table] Mmmm...?
[George and Baldrick continue to go "Mmmm" for some time, until Blackadder loses patience]
Blackadder: MUG!
George: Oh, I say, well done, sir! Your turn!
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 a 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!
Blackadder: Well done.
George: Now I... [laughs nervously] I don't think you've quite got the hang of this game, sir. Tell you what, 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 very 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 marvelous. 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 and Baldrick enter the room]
Blackadder: All right, where is the malingering git?
George: Hello, Cap, pip-pip Balders, here I lie.
Baldrick: Nice to see the lieutenant looking so well, sir?
Blackadder: Course he's looking well, there's nothing wrong with him.
[George laughs]
George: Didn't I tell you the Captain was a super cove?
Nurse Mary: Yes you did. Well Captain, you are indeed fortunate to have a loyal friend like darling George.
Blackadder: I think you might be under a slight misapprehension here, Nurse. I lost closer friends than the darling Georgie the last time I was deloused. Now if you'll excuse me, I have better things to do than exchange pleasantries with a wet blanket. Would you get out? [Mary gawps at him in astonishment] We've got some important military business.
Nurse Mary: Well, ten minutes only, then. [She exits]
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 no chin and 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 Walton-on-the-Naze!

Darling: In short, a German spy is giving away every one of our battle plans.
Melchett: You look surprised, Blackadder.
Blackadder: I certainly am, sir. I didn't realise that we had any battle plans.
Melchett: Well of course we have! How else do you think the battles are directed?!
Blackadder: Our battles are directed, sir?
Melchett: Well of course they are, Blackadder, directed according to the grand plan.
Blackadder: Would that be the plan to continue with total slaughter until everyone's dead except for Field Marshall Haig, Lady Haig and their tortoise, Alan?
Melchett: [horrified] Great Scott! Even you know it!

Darling: (to General Melchett on Blackadder) Damnation, sir! His insolence makes my blood boil! What's more, I don't trust him, sir. I think it would be best... if I went along to keep an eye on him.
Melchett: What, spy on our own spy while he searches for their spies? (pause) Yes, why not? Sounds rather fun. Now, you'll need to go undercover...
Darling: Of course, sir.
Melchett: And you'll need some kind of wound- a convincing wound.
Darling: Yes, sir.
Melchett: Yes... (draws his revolver and shoots Daring in the foot; Darling falls over in pain)
Darling: AAAAGH!
Melchett: Yes, that looks quite convincing!

George: Smithy, you haven't seen any suspicious looking characters around, have you, who might be German spies?
Smith: Nein.
George: [shocked] NINE! Well, the captain's got his work cut out.

Baldrick: Tell you what, sir; you might have a chance to get to know that pretty nurse!
Blackadder: No thank you, Baldrick; she's as wet as a fish's wet bits. I'd rather get to know you!
Baldrick: I'm not available, sir. I'm waiting for Miss Right to come along and gather me up in her arms.
Blackadder: Yes, I wouldn't be too hopeful; we'd have to get her arms out of her straitjacket first!

Blackadder: (notices Darling limping through the infirmary) What are you here for, Darling?
Darling: Bullet in the foot.
Blackadder: (sarcastically) Well, I can understand soldiers shooting themselves in the foot in the trenches, but when you're thirty-five miles behind the line-
Darling: (angrily) I did not shoot myself! The General did it.
Blackadder: Finally got fed up with you, eh?

[Blackadder interrogates Darling, who is tied up and blindfolded]
Darling: This is completely ridiculous, Blackadder! You can't suspect me, I've only just arrived.
Blackadder: The first rule of counter-espionage, Darling, is to suspect everyone. Believe me, I will be asking myself some pretty searching 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: Hm. Thank you.
[Blackadder places a cigarette in his mouth and lights it. He smokes for a few seconds, before Blackadder suddenly slaps it away and turns nasty]
Darling: I beg your pardon?!
Blackadder: [getting up close] Shut your cakehole, sonny, I know you! Tell me, Von Darling, what was it that finally won you over, eh?! Was it the pumpernickel, or was it the thought of hanging around with big men in leather shorts?!
Darling: [strangled voice] I'll have you court-marshaled 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: [breaking into tears] 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? [Nurse Mary bursts in]
Nurse Mary: What is all this noise about?! Don't you realise this is a hospital?!
Darling: [is released and stands up] You'll regret this, Blackadder! You'd better find the real spy or I'll make it very hard for you!
Blackadder: Please, Darling, there are ladies present.

Nurse Mary: Tell me, Edmund, do you have someone special in your life?
Blackadder: Well yes, as a matter of fact, I do.
Nurse Mary: Who?
Blackadder: Me.
Nurse Mary: No, I mean someone you love and cherish and want to keep safe from all the horror and the hurt.
Blackadder: Um...still me, really.
Nurse Mary: No, but back home in England, there must be someone waiting, some sweetheart.
Blackadder: Oh, a girl? Nah! 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 Morse-tapper?! 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: [seriously] 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!
[Blackadder and Nurse Mary both look extremely bored; 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 opportunity 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!
Blackadder: [looks startled - this was an improvised joke by Stephen Fry, who went to Cambridge whereas Rowan Atkinson went to Oxford, its rival] ... Well, quite.

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...[edit]

George: Oh, dash and blast it all! I'm as bored as a pacifist's pistol; when are we going to see some action?!
Blackadder: Well George, I strongly suspect your long wait for certain death is nearly at an end. Surely you must have noticed something in the air?
George: Well of course sir, but I thought that was Private Baldrick!

Blackadder: No, the time has come to get out of this madness once and for all!
George: What madness is that, sir?
Blackadder: Oh for God's sake, George, how long have you been in the army?
George: Oh, me? Oh, I joined up straight away, sir! August the 4th, 1914. God, what a day that was! Myself and the rest of the fellows, leapfrogging down to the Cambridge recruiting office and then, playing tiddlywinks in the queue. We'd hammered Oxford's tiddlywinkers only the week before and there we were, off to hammer the Boche! Crushingly superb bunch of blokes. Fine, clean-limbed… even their acne had a strange nobility about it.
Blackadder: Yes, and how are all the boys now?
George: Oh, uh, well… Jocko and the Badger bought it at the first Ypres, unfortunately. Quite a shock, that. I remember Bumfluff's house-master wrote and told me that Sticky had been out for a duck, and the Gubber had snitched a parcel sausage-end and gone goose-over-stump frogside.
Blackadder: Meaning?
George: I don't know, sir, but I read in the Times that they'd both been killed.

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.
George: Oh... Oh no, sir! Absolutely not! [quietly to Baldrick] Mad as a bicycle!
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!

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!

[Upon running out of options to avoid going over the top]
Blackadder: I believe the phrase rhymes with "clucking bell"!

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 want to 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 says... "Bugger".

[Last lines of the series; Blackadder, Baldrick, George and Darling are ready to go over the top]
Darling: Listen... Our guns have stopped.
George: You don't think...?
Baldrick: [with rising hope] Maybe... the war's over. Maybe it's peace!
George: [overjoyed] Oh, hurrah! The big knobs have gone round the table and yanked the iron out of the fire!
Darling: [also overjoyed] Thank God! We lived through it! The Great War, 1914 to 1917!
George: Hip-hip...
George, Baldrick and Darling: HOORAY!
Blackadder: [sadly] I'm afraid... not. The guns have stopped because we're about to attack. Not even our generals are mad enough to shell their own men. They think it's far more sporting to let the Germans do it.
George: [afraid] So we are, in fact, going over? This is, as they say, "it"?
Blackadder: I'm afraid so. Unless I can think of something very quickly.
Captain in background: COMPANY, ONE PACE FORWARD! [the group obey]
Baldrick: Oh, there's a nasty splinter on that ladder, sir! A bloke could hurt himself on that!
Captain in background: STAND READY!
Baldrick: I have... a plan, sir.
Blackadder: Really, Baldrick? A cunning and subtle one?
Baldrick: Yes, sir.
Blackadder: As cunning as a fox who's just been appointed Professor of Cunning at Oxford University?
Baldrick: Yes, sir.
Blackadder: 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 this by pretending to be mad. I mean, who would have noticed another madman round here? [a whistle is heard] Good luck, everyone. [blows whistle, and they go over the top]


Blackadder: The Cavalier Years[edit]

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: [annoyed by events and Baldrick's singing] For God's sake, stop that, Baldrick! It's bad enough having one's life in utter ruins without being serenaded by a moron with all the entertainment value of a tap-dancing oyster!

Blackadder: I just don't understand it. Where on Earth did they find a man so utterly without heart and soul, so low and degraded as to accept the job of beheading the King of England? [as his words sink in, Blackadder has a realisation] Baldrick? That little job that fell into your lap? It wasn't, by any chance, something to do with an axe, a basket, a little black mask and the King of England?
Baldrick: No.
Blackadder: Go on...
Baldrick: I couldn't find a basket.
Blackadder: You very small, total bastard! [grabs a meat cleaver and holds it to Baldrick's throat]
Baldrick: Please, Sir, don't kill me! I have a cunning plan to save the king!
Blackadder: Well, forgive me if I don't do a cartwheel of joy. Your family's record in the department of cunning planning is about impressive as Stumpy Oleg McNoLeg's personal best in the Market Harbor marathon! [sighes] All right, what's the plan?
Baldrick: [holds up a pumpkin]
Blackadder: A pumpkin is going to save the king?
Baldrick: Ah. But over here, I have one that I made earlier. [holds up a pumpkin with a face and wig] I will balance it on the King's head, like this, then I will cover his real head with a cloak. And then, when I execute him, instead of cutting off his real head, I will cut off the pumpkin and the king survives!
Blackadder: I'm not sure it's going to work, Balders.
Baldrick: Why not?
Blackadder: Because once you've cut it off, you have to hold it up in front of the crowd and say "This is the head of a traitor," at which point they will shout back "No, it's not. It's a large pumpkin with a pathetic mustache drawn on it."
Baldrick: I suppose it's not 100 percent convincing...
Blackadder: It's not 1 percent convincing. However, I am a busy man and I can't be bothered to punch you at the moment. Here is my fist. Kindly run towards it as fast as you can. [Baldrick does so]

[Roundheads have surrounded the house]
Baldrick: We're surrounded! What are we going to do?!
Blackadder: Well, at times like this, Baldrick, there is no choice for a man of honour. He must stand, and fight, and die, in defence of his... 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, Cromwell bursts in] Thank God you've come! [points to Baldrick] Seize the Royalist scum!

Blackadder's Christmas Carol[edit]

[Blackadder shouts from outside.]
Ebenezer Blackadder: HUMBUG! HUMBUG! HUMBUG!
[Blackadder enters his shop, holding a paper bag]
Ebenezer Blackadder: Humbug, Mr. Baldrick?
[Blackadder offers him the bag, which contains humbug sweets.]
Baldrick: Oh, thank you very much.

Baldrick: Go on my lord. Give it a little pull, you know you want to, it will be ever so exciting...
Blackadder: [completely uninterested] Oh, god...[Blackadder pulls the tiny Christmas cracker with Baldrick. There isn't a bang] [sarcastic] Yes, terrifying.
Baldrick: And look, there's a surprise present inside. It's a novelty death warrant, and you give it to a friend.
[Baldrick gives the death warrant to Blackadder]
Blackadder: [sarcastic] Oh, just what I've always wanted.[crumples it into a ball]
Baldrick: Have you got anything for me?
Lord Blackadder: Oh it's nothing, really!
Baldrick: [touched] Oh sir!
Lord Blackadder: No, it's really nothing; I haven't got you anything. I spent all my cash on this damn thing for the Queen. [reveals a portrait of Elizabeth I] She'd better bloody like it, she dropped enough hints! That woman's about as subtle as a rhinocero's horn up the backside! Door!

Lord Blackadder: Ah, Melchett! Greetings! I trust Christmas brings 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.
Lord Blackadder: I'm glad I saw you; I feel it only fair to warn you that the Queen has banned Christmas. So I wouldn't get her a present this year.
Lord Melchett: Oh, I'm indebted to you for that advice, Blackadder, and I shall, of course, follow it to the letter...[under his breath as he walks away] the day I get my brain replaced by a cauliflower.
Lord Blackadder: [jubilant] Ha! Got him with my subtle plan!
Baldrick: I can't see any subtle plan.
Lord Blackadder: Baldrick, you wouldn't see a subtle plan if it painted itself purple and danced naked on top of a harpsichord, singing "Subtle Plans are Here Again!"
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 and 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 called AN AXE!

Edmund Blackadder, Esq.: So, shall I begin?
The Prince Regent: Absolutely, as long as it's not that terribly depressing one about the chap who gets born on Christmas Day, shoots his mouth off about everything under the sun, and then comes a cropper with a couple of rum coves on top of a hill in Johnny Arab land!
Edmund Blackadder, Esq.: You mean, Jesus?
The Prince Regent: Yes, that's the bloke! Keep him out of it; he always spoils the Xmas atmos!

[After Blackadder discovers his plan to rob the Prince Regent of his Christmas valuable has gone badly wrong, thanks to Baldrick's stupidity]
Baldrick: Something wrong, Mr. B.?
Edmund Blackadder, Esq.: No, don't worry, I should've known not to trust a man with the mental agility of a rabbit dropping!
Baldrick: Sorry, Mr. B.
Edmund Blackadder, Esq.: Oh, it's perfectly alright, it's not your fault. [he floors Baldrick with a punch] Still, I fear for a frail, elderly woman, laden down with valuables, travelling through the inadequately lit streets of London!
Baldrick: Yeah, she's not safe!
Edmund Blackadder, Esq.: Well, not from me, certainly!

[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: Well, if I was you, I'd scoop him out and use him as a houseboat. Good day.
[Mrs. Scratchit walks out, crying]
Baldrick: Mister B, where's the milk of human kindness?
Blackadder: It's gone off, Baldrick. It stinks. [the doorbell rings] Get that, and whoever it is, slam the door in their face, otherwise I'll slam your face in the door!

[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?
Queen Victoria: [laughes] My dear little is our Royal Seal [she presents it to Baldrick, who goes down on one knee]. We are here to present your master with £50,000 and the title of Baron Blackadder for being the kindest man in England!
Baldrick: Lovely, your Majesty. [Blackadder, not realising what's going on, storms over]
Blackadder: Baldrick, what did I tell you I'd do if you didn't slam the door in the faces of these scrounging loafers?!
Baldrick: But, Mr. Blackadder, it's-! [As promised, Blackadder slams the door in Baldrick's face, then slams it shut on the royals]
Blackadder: I am not at home to guests! [the royals let themselves in again]
Prince Albert: I flatter myself, we are rather special guests.
Blackadder: [not realising who they are] But of course! I must apologise; it is not often that one receives a Christmas visit from two distinguished guests!
Prince Albert: Ah, so you recognise us at last?
Blackadder: Yes, unless I'm very much mistaken, you're the winner of the "Round Britain Shortest, Fattest, Dumpiest Woman" competition! And for her to be accompanied by the winner of this year's "Stupidest Accent Award" is really quite overwhelming! [Victoria and Albert look mortified]
Queen Victoria: Sir, I cannot believe-!
Blackadder: Cork it, fatso! Don't you realise that this is the Victorian Age where, apart from Queen Piglet Features herself, [Albert covers her ears] women and children are to be seen and not heard!?
Prince Albert: [outraged] Queen Piglet Features!?
Blackadder: Yes, Empress Oink, as lads call her! The only person in the kingdom that looks dafter than her is that stupid frankfurter of a husband! [Albert covers his own ears] "The Pig and the Prig", we call them! How they ever managed to produce their 112 children is quite beyond me! The bed chambers at Buckingham Palace must be copiously supplied with blindfolds!
Queen Victoria: Sir, we have never been so insulted in our entire lives! [they storm out]
Blackadder: Well, all I can say is you've been damned lucky!

Blackadder Back & Forth[edit]

Melchett: Stuff and stonsense! I've heard some rubbish in my time - every time I open my mouth, as a matter of fact! But a time machine?

Blackadder: [unveiling his time machine] Ladies and gentlemen, the greatest breakthrough in travel since Mr. Rodney Tricycle thought to himself, "I'm bored with walking, I think I'll invent a machine with three wheels and a bell, and name it after myself."

Blackadder: [To Baldrick] 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: 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!

Blackadder: Let's get home, Baldrick.
Baldrick: [wailing] But we don't know where home is! We're doomed to float through time, for all time! OH, WOE IS ME...!!
Blackadder: [notices a button] Shut up, Baldrick, shut up. There is one final thing to push which may be our salvation! [he pushes it; nothing happens] ...Or not. [Pulls it out] Because it is, in fact, a lollipop.
Baldrick: Raspberry flavoured, my lord.
Blackadder: [sitting down] Oh God! I'm going to spend the rest of my life in a small wooden room with two toilets and the stupidest man in the world.
Baldrick: Wait, my lord, do not despair. For I have a cunning plan.
Blackadder: ...Can I say I'm not optimistic, Baldrick?
Baldrick: To be quite frank, my lord, neither am I. My family have never been very good at plans.
Blackadder: So, with suitably low expectations, what is your cunning plan to get us home?
Baldrick: Well, my lord, you know how, when people drown, their whole life flashes in front of them?
Blackadder: Yeeees?
Baldrick: Well, if you stuck your head in a bucket of water and didn't bring it out again, then your whole life would flash in front of you, and you'd see where all the knobs and levers were when first set off. And then, if you pulled your head out again, just before you died, you could guide us home!
Blackadder: [standing up] Baldrick...
Baldrick: My lord?
Blackadder: Good plan. But perhaps just one tiny modification...
Baldrick: Hmm?
[Blackadder punches Baldrick and shoves his head down a toilet]
Blackadder: [pulls Baldrick out] How's it going?
Baldrick: I'm eighteen years old, I've just left nursery school!
Blackadder: Okey-dokey! [drowns Baldrick some more, then pulls him out]
Baldrick: I'm twenty five; I'm back at nursery school!
[Sighing in annoyance, Blackadder drowns him even more; he finally sees the combination, and Blackadder pulls him out]
Baldrick: [spitting out water] GOT IT!
Blackadder: Very good.
Baldrick: [gasping] I wish... I wish I'd flushed the loo first!
Blackadder: [looking down it] Oh, yes...

Baldrick: As we approach the end, my lord, what do you think we've learned on our great journey?
Blackadder: Good question, Baldrick. I suppose I've learned that I must buy you a much stronger mouthwash for Christmas this year. How about you?
Baldrick: Oh, I dunno. I suppose I've learned that human beings have always been the same. Some nice, some nasty; some clever, some stupid; there's always a Blackadder and there's always a Baldrick.
Blackadder: Yes, very profound, Baldrick.
Baldrick: Also, it occurs to me...
Blackadder: [annoyed] Oh God, there's not more, is there?
Baldrick: ...If you're in the right place at the right time, then every person has the power to go out and change the world for the better.
Blackadder: God, you really are as thick as clotted cream, that's been left out by some clot, until the clots are so clotted up you couldn't un-clot them with an electric de-clotter... aren't you, Baldrick? Real change comes from huge socioeconomic things that individuals have no effect on.
Baldrick: Unless you're King or Prime Minister or something.
Blackadder: Well, yes, I suppose they can make a difference. But for the rest of us, all we can do in life is to try to make a bit of cash! [the machine finally arrives home] Which is what I intend to do right now.

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!


The Black Adder[edit]

Blackadder II[edit]

Blackadder the Third[edit]

Blackadder Goes Forth[edit]

Blackadder: The Cavalier Years[edit]

Blackadder's Christmas Carol[edit]

Blackadder Back & Forth[edit]

External links[edit]

Wikipedia has an article about: