Blackadder s02e04 Episode Script
Money
Go away! My Lord, there is someone at the door to see you.
- What time is it? - Four o'clock.
You mustn't let me sleep all day.
This woman charges by the hour.
No, My Lord, it's four o'clock in the morning.
Someone wants to see me at four in the morning? - What is he, a giant lark? - No, he's a priest.
Tell him I'm Jewish.
Aren't you going to introduce me, then? Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend? Baldrick, I'm delighted to introduce you to - Sorry, I've forgotten your name.
- Mollie.
- This is Mollie.
A dear friend.
- I'm not dear.
I'm very reasonable actually, Baldrick.
Most would charge an extra sixpence for all the things he wants to do.
Baldrick, this is Mollie.
An inexpensive prostitute.
Mollie, this is Baldrick.
A pointless peasant.
- What about the priest? - Tell him to get out of here.
If he comes begging again I shall report him to the Bishop of Bath and Wells who drowns babies and eats them in the vestry afterwards.
Very good, My Lord.
- Bye, Baldrick.
- Bye-bye, Mollie.
Get out! When you should be whispering sweet nothings like: "Something twice the size of the Royal Barge has hove into view" You don't say a word.
But enter the Creature Of The Black Latrine and you won't stop jabbering.
He was treating me like a human being.
Look, if I wanted a lecture on the rights of Man, I'd have gone to bed with Martin Luther.
Yes, Baldrick.
What is it now? The priest still wants to see you.
Did you mention the baby-eating Bishop of Bath and Wells? He said: "I am the baby-eating Bishop of Bath and Wells!" Good lord! - You haven't got any children? - No.
I'm not married.
In that case, I'll skip breakfast and get straight down to business.
Do you know what day it is today? It is exactly one year ago that the Bank of the Black Monks of St.
Herod, "Banking with a smile and a stab", of which I am the assistant manager, lent you one thousand pounds.
Our motto is: Repayment or Revenge.
Of course, and naturally I'd have paid you back, but I've gone and lost my wallet.
Disastrous! It had all my little notes saying: "Forget ye not" and, of course, all my money! That's no concern of mine.
The debt is now due.
Not to repay a loan is a sin, and we Black Monks, we hate sin! Your Grace, this is my mother.
Mother this is Good morning, my dear.
I hope you haven't forgotten our appointment.
Of course not, Pumpy! You know, I have a mind to play "Nuns and Novices".
- So don't forget your wimple.
- OK! And, as for you, you come with me.
- Where? - To visit the last poor fool who lost his wallet! "William Greeves: born 1513 in Chelshood with the love of Christ.
" "Died 1563 in agony with a spike up his bottom.
" 'Tis ever with the Black Monks! Scream and gurgle as they skewered his catflap for want of a farthing! I think you get my message.
Tell me, Bishop, let me just test the waters here, so to speak.
Supposing I was to say to you: I'm a friend of the Queen's and I think she would like to hear about you, Mollie and the wimple.
Why don't we just call it quits, Fatso? I would say, firstly, the Queen would not believe you.
And secondly, you'll regret calling me Fatso later today! I will have my money by Evensong tonight or Your bottom will wish it had never been born! Poor Tom's cold! Pity poor Tom for his nose is frozen.
And he does shiver, and he's mad! Oh, shut up! So, lads.
I'm up a certain creek without a certain instrument.
Either I raise a thousand pounds by this evening, or I get murdered.
It's obvious.
You'll have to get murdered.
You'll never raise that sort of money.
Come now, Baldrick.
A thousand? Pay the fellow, Edmund, and damn his impudence.
I haven't got a thousand, dunghead! I've got 85 quid.
You're always boasting to the Queen about how wealthy you are.
A cunning web of deceit, subtly spun about the court to improve my standing.
- Do you mean you've been fibbing? - Yep.
My whole life has been a tissue of whoppers.
I consider myself one of England's finest liars.
A giant hummingbird is about to eat your hat and cloak! You see? I'm terrific at it.
It seems to have gone now.
Couldn't you just dip into the family fortune? My father blew it all on wine, women and amateur dramatics.
At the end he was eking a living doing impressions of Anne of Cleeves.
Edmund, I am sorry.
I had no idea.
I have some small savings harvested from my weekly allowance set aside against my frail old age.
But lucky haps, it is just over a thousand and has been hidden beyond the wit of any thief, in an old sock under the squeaky floorboard behind the kitchen dresser! - You've seen it! - Seen it, pinched it, spent it.
The same goes for the two farthings Baldrick thinks he has hidden.
Then you are doomed.
Alas.
For God's sake, let us sit upon the carpet and tell sad stories.
When Lord Blackadder is in trouble, he does not sit about.
You won't be able to sit with a spike up your bottom.
But still, I've got 85 quid and that's a start.
I'll think of something as long as I'm not disturbed.
The Queen dost demand your urgent presence on pain of death.
The path of my life is strewn with cowpats from the Devil's own satanic herd! - Madam, you sent for me.
- Did I? I can't remember.
What a naughty scatterbrain I am! Zap! Well, perhaps, Ma'am, if I might be allowed to withdraw.
Certainly.
- That was a terrific joke, wasn't it? - Magnificent! What, my Lady? I do know why I wanted to see you, I pretended I didn't.
I fooled you.
And it worked brilliantly, didn't it? It was terrific, Madam.
I thank God I wore my corset, because I think my sides have split.
So, why did you want to see me? To crack the lovely joke.
Or perhaps you don't think the Queen's jokes are funny enough? Au contraire.
I'm ecstatic about the whole incident.
I didn't laugh out loud because I was afraid if I did my head would've fallen off.
If you don't start soon, your head will fall off! Now pay Melchy his 85 pounds and run along.
- 85 pounds? - We had a bet.
I said you wouldn't fall for my trick, Melchy said you would because I'm so super and you're so stupid.
You owe him 85 pounds.
Fine, fine.
I mean, it's only money, isn't it? I cannot believe it! She drags me all the way from Billingsgate to play about the weakest practical joke since Cardinal Wolsey got his knob out at Hampton Court and stood at the end of the passage pretending to be a door.
Shut up, Baldrick.
You'd laugh at a Shakespeare comedy.
Edmund! I've awaited your return.
And thank God you did, for I was thinking: I die in 12 hours.
What I really need now is a hug from a complete prat! But fear not, I have a plan to save the life of my dear friend.
Look, I'm not interested in your friends! What about me? Not bad, Edmund.
That's a good one.
What's your big plan, blockhead? I intend to discover, this afternoon, the secret of alchemy.
The hidden art of turning base things into gold.
The fact that this secret has eluded the most intelligent people since the dawn of time doesn't dampen your spirits? Oh no.
I like a challenge.
Well, Balders, I lost 85 quid.
The grave opens up before me like a big hole in the ground.
Well, I did have one idea, My Lord.
But it's stupid.
What is it? I have heard there's good money to be made down the docks.
Doing favours for sailors.
Favours? What do you mean? Delivering messages, sewing on buttons? - Not quite.
- Baldrick! Are you suggesting I become a rent boy? Well, a good-looking bloke like you.
Posh accent, nice legs Just stick a pink carnation in your hat and make the old sign.
I'd rather die.
That's all right then.
I'll put the kettle on while we wait.
On second thoughts With a slight alteration, your sick and sordid plan might just work.
Give me a kiss and I'll give you a penny.
- A penny?! - All right then, tuppence! - Oh, all right, go on.
- Nothing fancy, just a peck.
I miss my mum, you see.
When I was little, my mum used to Look, get a move on.
He's a prostitute, not an agony aunt! Just a little peck on the cheek, and say: "There, there, Arthur.
Mummy'll kiss it better and you shall have a story.
" Well, I don't know.
Do you do requests, Baldrick? - Kinky stuff? Yeah, I'm game.
- Go on, please.
I miss my mother so much.
I mean, she was like a mother to me! I've forgotten what I'm supposed to say.
There, there, Arthur.
Mummy'll kiss it better and you shall have a story.
- What kind of story? - One about a squirrel, I suppose.
And then Squirry the Squirrel went And they all went home for tea.
Thanks very much, me ol' shivering mateys! How much do you charge for a good hard shag? - A thousand pounds.
- You've got to be joking! Well, I'm sure we could negotiate.
Right, so we've got sixpence.
All we need to do, My Lord is to go down the cockfights and put it on a bird that's a dead cert but has got odds of forty thousand to one.
- Know you of such a bird? - No, but we could make one.
No, we couldn't, Baldrick.
I suppose you have to be told some time.
What happens is: a mummy bird and a daddy bird who love each other, get certain urges What I mean is: we could get a mad wild killer bull and disguise it as a bird.
It'll be such a strange-looking bird that no-one will back it.
We'll know it's a killer bull so we'll put money on it.
- Only we will know? - If we stick enough feathers on it and hang an egg between its legs.
A chat with you and somehow death loses its sting.
The Queen dost demand your presence on pain of death.
You're not making friends here, you do know that? Madam, you sent for me again.
Yes, Edmund.
I wanted to apologise for the silly trick I played on you.
It was naughty and bad of me.
It was, my little rosebud.
If you weren't quite so big, it'd be time for Mr and Mrs Spank.
Thank you, Nursie.
And thank you, Edmund.
- That's all.
- Yes, thanks for coming.
That was very funny too, wasn't it? My Lady? Dragging you all the way here again just to say sorry for the first time.
It was Melchett's idea.
I think it's wonderful, don't you? Melchett, I prostrate myself at the feet of the world's greatest comedian.
Oh, you are super, Edmund.
I promised Lord Melchett that I would play with him.
But we have no coin.
Do you have a halfpenny? Unfortunately, only a sixpence.
What a shame! - A sixpence will do just as well.
- Oh, good! It stinks like a pair of armoured trousers after the Hundred Years War! Baldrick, have you been eating dung again? My Lord! Success! After literally an hour's ceaseless searching I have succeeded in creating gold.
Pure gold! - Are you sure? - Yes, My Lord.
Behold! Percy, it's green.
That's right, My Lord.
I don't want to be pedantic.
But the colour of gold is gold.
That's why it's called gold.
What you've discovered if it has a name, is some green.
Oh, Edmund, can it be true? That I hold here, in my mortal hand a nugget of purest green? Indeed you do.
Except, it's not only a nugget as it is more of a splat.
Well, yes.
A splat today, but tomorrow, who knows? Or dares to dream! We three alone in all the world can create the finest green at will.
Thus so! I'm not sure of counting in Baldrick, actually.
You know what your great discovery means, don't you? That you, Percy Lord Percy, are an utter berk.
Baldrick! Pack my bags.
I'm going to sell the house.
There's nothing else for it.
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 and say that Blackadder wishes to sell his house.
Percy, just go forth.
- And this is the den.
- Oh, dear.
But I have to tell you, Mr Pants that I've had an extremely encouraging nibble from another client.
You know me well enough to know that I don't ignore a nibble for long.
I noticed some dry rot in the bedrooms, Timothy.
Well, Mrs Pants, dry rot is as dry rot does.
Stop me if I'm getting too technical.
The floors are a little uneven.
Indeed yes, Madam, and at no extra cost! - Strange smell.
- That's the servant, he'll be gone.
You've really worked out your banter, haven't you? Not really.
This is a different thing.
It's spontaneous and it's called wit.
- And the privies? - When the master craftsman was looking at the sewage, he said to himself: "Romeo, let's make them functional, and comfortable.
" - That seems nice, dear.
- I think we understand each other.
- It's sold then.
Drink? - What about the privies? Well, what we're talking about in privy terms is the very latest in front-wall, fresh-air orifices combined with a wide-capacity gutter installation below.
You mean you crap out of the window.
Yes! Well! In that case, we'll definitely take it! I can't stand those dirty indoor things.
There! That's the lot.
He only wanted to pay a thousand, but I beat him up to eleven hundred.
- You wily old trickster, you! - I only named the price.
It was Baldrick who actually beat him up.
Percy, what is that on the front of your tunic? 'Tis a brooch, My Lord.
A brooch cunningly fashioned from pure green.
It looks like you've sneezed.
It is with trinkets such as this brooch, and here, a ring that I intend to revive your fortunes and buy back your house.
You think there's a big market for jewellry that looks like snot? The eyes are open, the mouth moves, but Mr Brain has long since departed.
- My Lord.
- Messenger, thank God.
We couldn't have waited another second without you.
- Majesty! - Thank God.
Terrible news! The French intend to invade, Blackadder.
So I need some money.
Yes, every nobleman must pay 500 pounds.
But we've decided to make you a special case.
Melchy hasn't got a bean, so we thought, as you're so wealthy you could pay for both! I have a cash-flow crisis and haven't got any money on me.
- But, Edmund - Sorry! What's that in your tights? It looks like just over a thousand pounds.
- So it is.
- You said you didn't have any.
I thought you meant "real" money.
This is just a bit of loose change.
A thousand pounds loose in your tights That's flash! OK, hand it over.
Thanks.
Bye.
Well, goodbye indeed.
Goodbye, Ma'am.
Goodbye, Melchett.
Goodbye, Nursie.
Bye! Silly old Edmund! He was completely fooled.
- That was a brilliant joke, Melchy.
- Brilliant, Ma'am! And now I'm going to have you executed.
It's for taking the mickey out of my dear Edmund so cruelly.
- I'm gonna knock your block off.
- Majesty, I only intended to please! Oh, please! I so want to live! Praise the Lord for the gift of laughter! I've lost the money.
I'm going to have to run away.
- Why, My Lord? - To avoid these monks! No point.
The Black Bank's got branches everywhere.
If I die, Baldrick, do you think people would remember me? People would be slapping each other on the shoulders and saying: "Do you remember old Privy-breath?" Do people call me "Privy-breath"? - The ones who like you.
- Am I then not popular? When people slip in what dogs have left in the street they do tend to say: "Whoops, I've trod on an Edmund".
Bloody cheek! I'll show them.
Have you got a plan, My Lord? Yes.
It's so cunning you could brush your teeth with it.
All I need is some feathers, a dress, some oil, an easel lots of paper, a prostitute and the best portrait painter in England.
The most famous portrait painter in England: Mr Leonardo Acropolis! - Right, are you any good? - No! I am a genius! Well, you'd better be, or you're dead! Right, in the bedroom, Beardface.
Baldrick, get the door.
My Lord, the Bishop of Bath and Wells.
The time has come, Blackadder! The Black Monks will have their money.
Or I will have my fun.
- You enjoy your work, don't you? - Bits of it, yes.
- The violent bits.
- Yes.
You see, I am a colossal pervert.
No form of sexual depravity is too low for me.
Animal, vegetable or mineral I'll do anything to anything.
Fine words for a Bishop.
Nice to hear the Church speaking out on social issues for a change.
- Have you got the money? - Nope.
Good.
I hate it when people pay up.
Say your prayers, Blackadder.
It's poker time! Fine.
Are you ever concerned that people might find you out? No.
I kill, I maim, I fornicate.
As far as my flock is concerned my only vice is a tipple before Evensong.
Oh, thank you.
Bend over, Blackadder! This is where you get Drugged by God! No, by Baldrick, but the effect is much the same.
Wakey, wakey, Bish.
You clerics really are slugabeds.
- Where am I? I remember drugged.
- That's right.
You should have killed me while you had the chance.
You have looked in wonder at your last dawn, Blackadder! I'm not so sure.
I did wonder what people who saw this might think.
Heavens above, what creatures from Hell are those? They make an interesting couple? I think you'll recognise this huge, sweating mound of blubber here, Fatso.
There's no point.
We have the preliminary sketches.
We'll soon make some copies.
One for the Queen, one for the Archbishop.
And a couple to form the basis of an exhibition of a young artist's work.
By the horns of Beelzebub, how did you get me into that position? Beautifully framed, don't you think? It's exactly what happened to you.
Never have I encountered such corrupt and foul-minded perversity! Have you ever considered a career in the Church? No, I could never get used to the underwear.
I could use eleven hundred pounds to buy back my house, four thousand pounds to cover some sundry expences and thruppence for a celebratory binge at Mrs Miggins' pie shop.
Yes, but first, one question: Who is the second figure? Who could you have got to have performed such deeds, to have plunged the depths of degradation just to save your filthy life? Percy, may I introduce His Grace, the Bishop of Bath and Wells.
Your Grace, Lord Percy Percy, heir to the Duchy of Northumberland.
Hello.
It was lovely working with you.
Take heed the moral of this tale Be not a borrower or lender And if your finances do fail Make sure your banker's not a bender Blackadder, Blackadder He trusted in the Church Blackadder, Blackadder It left him in the lurch Blackadder, Blackadder His life was almost done Blackadder, Blackadder Who gives a toss? No-one.
- What time is it? - Four o'clock.
You mustn't let me sleep all day.
This woman charges by the hour.
No, My Lord, it's four o'clock in the morning.
Someone wants to see me at four in the morning? - What is he, a giant lark? - No, he's a priest.
Tell him I'm Jewish.
Aren't you going to introduce me, then? Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend? Baldrick, I'm delighted to introduce you to - Sorry, I've forgotten your name.
- Mollie.
- This is Mollie.
A dear friend.
- I'm not dear.
I'm very reasonable actually, Baldrick.
Most would charge an extra sixpence for all the things he wants to do.
Baldrick, this is Mollie.
An inexpensive prostitute.
Mollie, this is Baldrick.
A pointless peasant.
- What about the priest? - Tell him to get out of here.
If he comes begging again I shall report him to the Bishop of Bath and Wells who drowns babies and eats them in the vestry afterwards.
Very good, My Lord.
- Bye, Baldrick.
- Bye-bye, Mollie.
Get out! When you should be whispering sweet nothings like: "Something twice the size of the Royal Barge has hove into view" You don't say a word.
But enter the Creature Of The Black Latrine and you won't stop jabbering.
He was treating me like a human being.
Look, if I wanted a lecture on the rights of Man, I'd have gone to bed with Martin Luther.
Yes, Baldrick.
What is it now? The priest still wants to see you.
Did you mention the baby-eating Bishop of Bath and Wells? He said: "I am the baby-eating Bishop of Bath and Wells!" Good lord! - You haven't got any children? - No.
I'm not married.
In that case, I'll skip breakfast and get straight down to business.
Do you know what day it is today? It is exactly one year ago that the Bank of the Black Monks of St.
Herod, "Banking with a smile and a stab", of which I am the assistant manager, lent you one thousand pounds.
Our motto is: Repayment or Revenge.
Of course, and naturally I'd have paid you back, but I've gone and lost my wallet.
Disastrous! It had all my little notes saying: "Forget ye not" and, of course, all my money! That's no concern of mine.
The debt is now due.
Not to repay a loan is a sin, and we Black Monks, we hate sin! Your Grace, this is my mother.
Mother this is Good morning, my dear.
I hope you haven't forgotten our appointment.
Of course not, Pumpy! You know, I have a mind to play "Nuns and Novices".
- So don't forget your wimple.
- OK! And, as for you, you come with me.
- Where? - To visit the last poor fool who lost his wallet! "William Greeves: born 1513 in Chelshood with the love of Christ.
" "Died 1563 in agony with a spike up his bottom.
" 'Tis ever with the Black Monks! Scream and gurgle as they skewered his catflap for want of a farthing! I think you get my message.
Tell me, Bishop, let me just test the waters here, so to speak.
Supposing I was to say to you: I'm a friend of the Queen's and I think she would like to hear about you, Mollie and the wimple.
Why don't we just call it quits, Fatso? I would say, firstly, the Queen would not believe you.
And secondly, you'll regret calling me Fatso later today! I will have my money by Evensong tonight or Your bottom will wish it had never been born! Poor Tom's cold! Pity poor Tom for his nose is frozen.
And he does shiver, and he's mad! Oh, shut up! So, lads.
I'm up a certain creek without a certain instrument.
Either I raise a thousand pounds by this evening, or I get murdered.
It's obvious.
You'll have to get murdered.
You'll never raise that sort of money.
Come now, Baldrick.
A thousand? Pay the fellow, Edmund, and damn his impudence.
I haven't got a thousand, dunghead! I've got 85 quid.
You're always boasting to the Queen about how wealthy you are.
A cunning web of deceit, subtly spun about the court to improve my standing.
- Do you mean you've been fibbing? - Yep.
My whole life has been a tissue of whoppers.
I consider myself one of England's finest liars.
A giant hummingbird is about to eat your hat and cloak! You see? I'm terrific at it.
It seems to have gone now.
Couldn't you just dip into the family fortune? My father blew it all on wine, women and amateur dramatics.
At the end he was eking a living doing impressions of Anne of Cleeves.
Edmund, I am sorry.
I had no idea.
I have some small savings harvested from my weekly allowance set aside against my frail old age.
But lucky haps, it is just over a thousand and has been hidden beyond the wit of any thief, in an old sock under the squeaky floorboard behind the kitchen dresser! - You've seen it! - Seen it, pinched it, spent it.
The same goes for the two farthings Baldrick thinks he has hidden.
Then you are doomed.
Alas.
For God's sake, let us sit upon the carpet and tell sad stories.
When Lord Blackadder is in trouble, he does not sit about.
You won't be able to sit with a spike up your bottom.
But still, I've got 85 quid and that's a start.
I'll think of something as long as I'm not disturbed.
The Queen dost demand your urgent presence on pain of death.
The path of my life is strewn with cowpats from the Devil's own satanic herd! - Madam, you sent for me.
- Did I? I can't remember.
What a naughty scatterbrain I am! Zap! Well, perhaps, Ma'am, if I might be allowed to withdraw.
Certainly.
- That was a terrific joke, wasn't it? - Magnificent! What, my Lady? I do know why I wanted to see you, I pretended I didn't.
I fooled you.
And it worked brilliantly, didn't it? It was terrific, Madam.
I thank God I wore my corset, because I think my sides have split.
So, why did you want to see me? To crack the lovely joke.
Or perhaps you don't think the Queen's jokes are funny enough? Au contraire.
I'm ecstatic about the whole incident.
I didn't laugh out loud because I was afraid if I did my head would've fallen off.
If you don't start soon, your head will fall off! Now pay Melchy his 85 pounds and run along.
- 85 pounds? - We had a bet.
I said you wouldn't fall for my trick, Melchy said you would because I'm so super and you're so stupid.
You owe him 85 pounds.
Fine, fine.
I mean, it's only money, isn't it? I cannot believe it! She drags me all the way from Billingsgate to play about the weakest practical joke since Cardinal Wolsey got his knob out at Hampton Court and stood at the end of the passage pretending to be a door.
Shut up, Baldrick.
You'd laugh at a Shakespeare comedy.
Edmund! I've awaited your return.
And thank God you did, for I was thinking: I die in 12 hours.
What I really need now is a hug from a complete prat! But fear not, I have a plan to save the life of my dear friend.
Look, I'm not interested in your friends! What about me? Not bad, Edmund.
That's a good one.
What's your big plan, blockhead? I intend to discover, this afternoon, the secret of alchemy.
The hidden art of turning base things into gold.
The fact that this secret has eluded the most intelligent people since the dawn of time doesn't dampen your spirits? Oh no.
I like a challenge.
Well, Balders, I lost 85 quid.
The grave opens up before me like a big hole in the ground.
Well, I did have one idea, My Lord.
But it's stupid.
What is it? I have heard there's good money to be made down the docks.
Doing favours for sailors.
Favours? What do you mean? Delivering messages, sewing on buttons? - Not quite.
- Baldrick! Are you suggesting I become a rent boy? Well, a good-looking bloke like you.
Posh accent, nice legs Just stick a pink carnation in your hat and make the old sign.
I'd rather die.
That's all right then.
I'll put the kettle on while we wait.
On second thoughts With a slight alteration, your sick and sordid plan might just work.
Give me a kiss and I'll give you a penny.
- A penny?! - All right then, tuppence! - Oh, all right, go on.
- Nothing fancy, just a peck.
I miss my mum, you see.
When I was little, my mum used to Look, get a move on.
He's a prostitute, not an agony aunt! Just a little peck on the cheek, and say: "There, there, Arthur.
Mummy'll kiss it better and you shall have a story.
" Well, I don't know.
Do you do requests, Baldrick? - Kinky stuff? Yeah, I'm game.
- Go on, please.
I miss my mother so much.
I mean, she was like a mother to me! I've forgotten what I'm supposed to say.
There, there, Arthur.
Mummy'll kiss it better and you shall have a story.
- What kind of story? - One about a squirrel, I suppose.
And then Squirry the Squirrel went And they all went home for tea.
Thanks very much, me ol' shivering mateys! How much do you charge for a good hard shag? - A thousand pounds.
- You've got to be joking! Well, I'm sure we could negotiate.
Right, so we've got sixpence.
All we need to do, My Lord is to go down the cockfights and put it on a bird that's a dead cert but has got odds of forty thousand to one.
- Know you of such a bird? - No, but we could make one.
No, we couldn't, Baldrick.
I suppose you have to be told some time.
What happens is: a mummy bird and a daddy bird who love each other, get certain urges What I mean is: we could get a mad wild killer bull and disguise it as a bird.
It'll be such a strange-looking bird that no-one will back it.
We'll know it's a killer bull so we'll put money on it.
- Only we will know? - If we stick enough feathers on it and hang an egg between its legs.
A chat with you and somehow death loses its sting.
The Queen dost demand your presence on pain of death.
You're not making friends here, you do know that? Madam, you sent for me again.
Yes, Edmund.
I wanted to apologise for the silly trick I played on you.
It was naughty and bad of me.
It was, my little rosebud.
If you weren't quite so big, it'd be time for Mr and Mrs Spank.
Thank you, Nursie.
And thank you, Edmund.
- That's all.
- Yes, thanks for coming.
That was very funny too, wasn't it? My Lady? Dragging you all the way here again just to say sorry for the first time.
It was Melchett's idea.
I think it's wonderful, don't you? Melchett, I prostrate myself at the feet of the world's greatest comedian.
Oh, you are super, Edmund.
I promised Lord Melchett that I would play with him.
But we have no coin.
Do you have a halfpenny? Unfortunately, only a sixpence.
What a shame! - A sixpence will do just as well.
- Oh, good! It stinks like a pair of armoured trousers after the Hundred Years War! Baldrick, have you been eating dung again? My Lord! Success! After literally an hour's ceaseless searching I have succeeded in creating gold.
Pure gold! - Are you sure? - Yes, My Lord.
Behold! Percy, it's green.
That's right, My Lord.
I don't want to be pedantic.
But the colour of gold is gold.
That's why it's called gold.
What you've discovered if it has a name, is some green.
Oh, Edmund, can it be true? That I hold here, in my mortal hand a nugget of purest green? Indeed you do.
Except, it's not only a nugget as it is more of a splat.
Well, yes.
A splat today, but tomorrow, who knows? Or dares to dream! We three alone in all the world can create the finest green at will.
Thus so! I'm not sure of counting in Baldrick, actually.
You know what your great discovery means, don't you? That you, Percy Lord Percy, are an utter berk.
Baldrick! Pack my bags.
I'm going to sell the house.
There's nothing else for it.
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 and say that Blackadder wishes to sell his house.
Percy, just go forth.
- And this is the den.
- Oh, dear.
But I have to tell you, Mr Pants that I've had an extremely encouraging nibble from another client.
You know me well enough to know that I don't ignore a nibble for long.
I noticed some dry rot in the bedrooms, Timothy.
Well, Mrs Pants, dry rot is as dry rot does.
Stop me if I'm getting too technical.
The floors are a little uneven.
Indeed yes, Madam, and at no extra cost! - Strange smell.
- That's the servant, he'll be gone.
You've really worked out your banter, haven't you? Not really.
This is a different thing.
It's spontaneous and it's called wit.
- And the privies? - When the master craftsman was looking at the sewage, he said to himself: "Romeo, let's make them functional, and comfortable.
" - That seems nice, dear.
- I think we understand each other.
- It's sold then.
Drink? - What about the privies? Well, what we're talking about in privy terms is the very latest in front-wall, fresh-air orifices combined with a wide-capacity gutter installation below.
You mean you crap out of the window.
Yes! Well! In that case, we'll definitely take it! I can't stand those dirty indoor things.
There! That's the lot.
He only wanted to pay a thousand, but I beat him up to eleven hundred.
- You wily old trickster, you! - I only named the price.
It was Baldrick who actually beat him up.
Percy, what is that on the front of your tunic? 'Tis a brooch, My Lord.
A brooch cunningly fashioned from pure green.
It looks like you've sneezed.
It is with trinkets such as this brooch, and here, a ring that I intend to revive your fortunes and buy back your house.
You think there's a big market for jewellry that looks like snot? The eyes are open, the mouth moves, but Mr Brain has long since departed.
- My Lord.
- Messenger, thank God.
We couldn't have waited another second without you.
- Majesty! - Thank God.
Terrible news! The French intend to invade, Blackadder.
So I need some money.
Yes, every nobleman must pay 500 pounds.
But we've decided to make you a special case.
Melchy hasn't got a bean, so we thought, as you're so wealthy you could pay for both! I have a cash-flow crisis and haven't got any money on me.
- But, Edmund - Sorry! What's that in your tights? It looks like just over a thousand pounds.
- So it is.
- You said you didn't have any.
I thought you meant "real" money.
This is just a bit of loose change.
A thousand pounds loose in your tights That's flash! OK, hand it over.
Thanks.
Bye.
Well, goodbye indeed.
Goodbye, Ma'am.
Goodbye, Melchett.
Goodbye, Nursie.
Bye! Silly old Edmund! He was completely fooled.
- That was a brilliant joke, Melchy.
- Brilliant, Ma'am! And now I'm going to have you executed.
It's for taking the mickey out of my dear Edmund so cruelly.
- I'm gonna knock your block off.
- Majesty, I only intended to please! Oh, please! I so want to live! Praise the Lord for the gift of laughter! I've lost the money.
I'm going to have to run away.
- Why, My Lord? - To avoid these monks! No point.
The Black Bank's got branches everywhere.
If I die, Baldrick, do you think people would remember me? People would be slapping each other on the shoulders and saying: "Do you remember old Privy-breath?" Do people call me "Privy-breath"? - The ones who like you.
- Am I then not popular? When people slip in what dogs have left in the street they do tend to say: "Whoops, I've trod on an Edmund".
Bloody cheek! I'll show them.
Have you got a plan, My Lord? Yes.
It's so cunning you could brush your teeth with it.
All I need is some feathers, a dress, some oil, an easel lots of paper, a prostitute and the best portrait painter in England.
The most famous portrait painter in England: Mr Leonardo Acropolis! - Right, are you any good? - No! I am a genius! Well, you'd better be, or you're dead! Right, in the bedroom, Beardface.
Baldrick, get the door.
My Lord, the Bishop of Bath and Wells.
The time has come, Blackadder! The Black Monks will have their money.
Or I will have my fun.
- You enjoy your work, don't you? - Bits of it, yes.
- The violent bits.
- Yes.
You see, I am a colossal pervert.
No form of sexual depravity is too low for me.
Animal, vegetable or mineral I'll do anything to anything.
Fine words for a Bishop.
Nice to hear the Church speaking out on social issues for a change.
- Have you got the money? - Nope.
Good.
I hate it when people pay up.
Say your prayers, Blackadder.
It's poker time! Fine.
Are you ever concerned that people might find you out? No.
I kill, I maim, I fornicate.
As far as my flock is concerned my only vice is a tipple before Evensong.
Oh, thank you.
Bend over, Blackadder! This is where you get Drugged by God! No, by Baldrick, but the effect is much the same.
Wakey, wakey, Bish.
You clerics really are slugabeds.
- Where am I? I remember drugged.
- That's right.
You should have killed me while you had the chance.
You have looked in wonder at your last dawn, Blackadder! I'm not so sure.
I did wonder what people who saw this might think.
Heavens above, what creatures from Hell are those? They make an interesting couple? I think you'll recognise this huge, sweating mound of blubber here, Fatso.
There's no point.
We have the preliminary sketches.
We'll soon make some copies.
One for the Queen, one for the Archbishop.
And a couple to form the basis of an exhibition of a young artist's work.
By the horns of Beelzebub, how did you get me into that position? Beautifully framed, don't you think? It's exactly what happened to you.
Never have I encountered such corrupt and foul-minded perversity! Have you ever considered a career in the Church? No, I could never get used to the underwear.
I could use eleven hundred pounds to buy back my house, four thousand pounds to cover some sundry expences and thruppence for a celebratory binge at Mrs Miggins' pie shop.
Yes, but first, one question: Who is the second figure? Who could you have got to have performed such deeds, to have plunged the depths of degradation just to save your filthy life? Percy, may I introduce His Grace, the Bishop of Bath and Wells.
Your Grace, Lord Percy Percy, heir to the Duchy of Northumberland.
Hello.
It was lovely working with you.
Take heed the moral of this tale Be not a borrower or lender And if your finances do fail Make sure your banker's not a bender Blackadder, Blackadder He trusted in the Church Blackadder, Blackadder It left him in the lurch Blackadder, Blackadder His life was almost done Blackadder, Blackadder Who gives a toss? No-one.