The Black Adder I, Episode 2
Born to be King
Caption: In 1486, the second year of Richard IV's historic reign and
also the year in which the egg replaced the worm as the lowest form of
currency, King Richard departed England on a Crusade against the Turks.
King: As the good
Lord said: "Love thy neighbour as thyself, unless he's Turkish, in which
case, kill the bastard!"
Caption: He left behind him his beloved son Prince Harry to rule as
Regent in his stead.
[Harry looks as though he doesn't quite remember the line about thy neighbour
in those words.]
King: Farewell,
dear Harry.
Harry: Farewell,
Father.
Caption: ...and his slimy son Edmund to do the tasks most befitting
him.
King: Edward...
[rides off]
Baldrick: My
Lord, with the King gone...
Edmund: Hmmm?
Of course! At last, a chance for some real power! [laughs in his
ridiculous-sounding evil way]
Caption: Twelve months later
[Edmund is on horseback, with his sword raised in the air. He shouts.]
Edmund: On! Onward!
I want you scum back to the castle by sundown, or you'll all be slaughtered!
Onward! [sounds of 'Baaa' are heard as Edmund speaks to his flock
of sheep, in heavy snowfall]
Edmund: Come
on! Come on! Keep going! I've just about had enough of you!
Sheep:
Bbbbaaaaa!
Edmund: Shut
up!
Sheep:
Bbaaaa! [They begin to run.]
Edmund: Come
on! No, that's not the way you're going. Stop! Where are you going? No,
not away from the castle!
Sheep:
Bbbaaa!
Edmund: Shut
up!
[cut to room in the castle]
Harry:
[standing by the fire, reading a note] Splendid!
Splendid! [Edmund enters the adjacent hallway]
Edmund: [to
sheep] Now look, you're not supposed to be here.
That's far enough, now get out! [shuts door, begins to walk down
the hallway] If I could get my hands on that bastard
brother, Harry...
Harry: Ah,
Edmund! [Edmund stops dead in his tracks in surprise, then continues
walking, as though not hearing, behind a bit of wall].
Edmund? [Edmund reappears, in the next doorway] Ah,
there you are. Splendid news, Edmund -- Father's coming home! He writes
here that he'll be back by St. Leonard's Day. Excellent! So we can celebrate
both events together! [Edmund has just got to the fire, but now
Harry pulls him aside, across the room. Edmund tries to turn toward the
fire, but to no avail. He is frozen stiff.]
Harry: Now
then, I shall handle the visiting royalty, of course, er, the guards of
honour, and the papal legate; and you can, er, you can sort out the frolicks.
Edmund: The
frolicks?
Harry: Yes,
the Morris Dancers, the eunuchs, and the bearded women -- you know: the
traditional St. Leonard's Day entertainments. Oh damnation, though, I don't
think I'm going to have enough time to attend to the drains. Edmund, you'll
have to look into those as well.
Edmund: [shivering
from cold] Oh, er, yes, fine, fine. I'd, I'd be honoured.
Harry: Good.
You won't let me down, now, will you?
Edmund: No,
no, no, no. I'm, I'm really looking forward to it already. Thank you so
very much.
Harry: Splendid!
[exits] [Edmund is in the room alone]
Edmund: [returning
to the fire] Twelve months of chasing sheep and straightening
the royal portraits, and now this! The bastard! The BASTARD!
Baldrick: If only
he were, My Lord.
Edmund: What?!
[dramatic organ music begins]
Baldrick: If
only he were a bastard, My Lord, then you would be Regent now.
Edmund: Ah,
yes. And then, one day....
Percy: You would
be King, My Lord.
Edmund: Ah
yes, yes. I would be King! And then what?
Baldrick: [puts
his hands together, then moves them apart, making a large globe motion]
You'd rule the world, My Lord!
Percy: [moves
an outstretched arm across a flat plane] You'd rule
the world, My Lord!
Edmund: Precisely!
It's just not fair, you know. Every other damn woman in the court has bastard
sons, but not my mother, oohhh no... She's so damn pure, she'd hate to
look down in case she notices her own breasts.
[cut to hallway outside the throne room. Edmund's mother, the Queen,
speaks to Countess Celia.]
Celia: You must
be so looking forward to the King's return, Your Majesty.
Queen: [surprised
at the remark] No.
Celia: No,
My Lady? But think: he will come to your chamber and make mad, passionate
love to you!
Queen: Yes,
I wish he wouldn't do that. It's very difficult to sleep with that kind
of thing going on, you know; being used all night long, like the outside
of a sausage roll...
Celia: (??),
and we've got the St. Leonard's Day celebrations to look forward to: the
jesters, the jugglers...
Queen: The
great brown ox steaming and smouldering all night long...
Celia: [excited]
Oh yes -- the feast!
Queen: Sorry?
No, I was thinking of something else.
Celia: I particularly
hope they've got the Morris dancers. I *love* them.
Queen: Yes.
I like the eunuchs.
Celia: Oh
yes, the eunuchs! Ah, I wish I owned one.
Queen: I wish
I'd married one.
[cut to Edmund's quarters]
Edmund: [speaking
to a woman who looks very apologetic] No, no; fine,
fine; it could've happened to anyone. Never mind, never mind. [shuts
door] Oh, God, I don't believe it. We've only got
one act, and she shaved her beard off.
Percy: There's
always the eunuchs, My Lord.
Edmund: Oh
yes, so? The eunuchs and the Amazing Beardless Woman. What a (??). Percy,
there must be someone else, there must be! Look... [they look through
some papers on the desk]
Percy: Ah,
there's The Jumping Jews of Jerusalem, My Lord.
Edmund: What
do they do?
Percy: [as
though that was a silly question] They jump, My Lord.
Edmund: What?
Percy: They
come in, My Lord, and they jump ... a lot. It's a humourous act.
Edmund: Nah
dah dah! There must be something else, surely! Ah, what's this? " 'The
Death of the Pharoah': Sir Dominick Prique and His Magnificient (??) Wooferoonies
perform the tragic ancient Eygptian masterpiece, 'The Death of the Pharoah'."
Well, that sounds funny.
Percy: No,
no, no -- I find that very moving, My Lord.
Edmund: Well,
it better be funny, or Prique will get his come-uppance, I can tell you.
Now, book him.
Baldrick: My
Lord, what about Jerry Meriwether and His Four Chickens.
Edmund: [sarcastic]
What do they do? Lay eggs?
Baldrick: Yes,
My Lord.
Edmund: [desperate]
Oh, all right, all right, we'll have them, we'll
have them. [There's a knock at the door. Percy opens it to find
the messenger holding out a note.]
Messenger: My
Lord... [Percy takes the note and slams the door in the messenger's
face. He gives the note to Edmund, who opens it, reads it, and closes it.]
Percy: Wha--
what is it, My Lord?
Edmund: [slowly,
seriously] The eunuchs have cancelled.
Baldrick: Oh
dear.
Edmund: Ha!
I should have known -- never trust a eunuch!
Percy: What
are we going to do?
Edmund: Well,
I know what I'm going to do. Baldrick, give me an execution order. I'm
gonna teach them a lesson they'll never forget. I'll remove whatever extraneous
parts of their bodies still remain. [Edmund makes out the order,
and goes to the door. Upon opening it, he finds the messenger still waiting
for his tip, holding out his hand.]
Messenger: My
Lord...
Edmund: Take
that to Lord Chancellor, thank you. [Puts the order in the messenger's
hand then slams the door] Oh God, this is desperate!
Desperate!
Percy: We
could have the Morris dancers, My Lord.
Edmund: Now
look, we are not *that* desperate! Morris dancing is the most fatuous (tantuate?)
entertainment ever devised by man -- forty effeminate blacksmiths waving
bits of cloth they've just wiped their noses on... How it's still going
on in this day and age, I'll never know.
Percy: [confused]
Sorry, so do you want them or not? [Edmund
hits Percy over the head with a scrolled paper as Harry enters.]
Harry: Ah,
Edmund! [Edmund begins jumping, hitting Percy and himself with the
paper, looking like a Morris dance. Percy and Baldrick join in, all of
them hitting each other on the head with bits of paper.]
Edmund: ...and
rest.
Harry: [applauds]
Oh, splendid! and how are the rest of the entertainments
coming along?
Edmund: Erm,
very very well indeed. Umm, I think it's going to have a slightly Spartan
look.
Harry: What,
Greek?
Edmund: Er...yes,
that's right. Yes, um...Greek.
Harry: Oh
good. Everyone turning up?
Edmund: Oh
absolutely everyone. So many people in fact, I'm afraid I've had to let
the eunuchs go.
Harry: Oh
no no no no no no!
Edmund: No?
Harry: No!
That won't do at all -- not on St. Leonard's Day, because, well correct
me if I'm wrong, Lord Percy, but, er, St. Leonard himself was an eunuch.
[Edmund, behind Harry, shakes his had `No' at Percy.]
Percy: [obeys
Edmund's head movement, but knows the correct answer] Yyyyyes,
that's right. [Harry, confused at why Percy was shaking his head,
turns back to Edmund, who, still shaking his head, suddenly hits himself
on the head with the paper, as though he was just dancing again.]
Edmund: Well,
that's why I thought it might be more tactful if--
Harry: Oh
no no no no no no no. To leave out the eunuchs on St. Leonard's Day would
be like, well, it would be like leaving out the Morris dancers, or the
bearded women! [Edmund, Percy and Baldrick all pretend to laugh
at the absurd thought]
Harry: Besides,
Lord Dougal McAngus, the King's Supreme Commander, is expected at the feast,
and, as you know, eunuchs are his particular favourite.
Edmund: [confused]
Hmm?
Harry: He's
Scottish, you see.
Edmund: Ahhhh!
Harry: Good,
good. Well, I'm relying on you, Edmund. Carry on. [exits]
Edmund: So!
Some carrot-faced, thistle-arsed Scottish orangutan wants a eunuch, does
he?
Percy: Apparently
he's a great warrior, My Lord...
Edmund: Yes,
that's what they all say, those Scots. They're just barbarians! Half of
them can't even speak English.
Baldrick: What
do they speak?
Edmund: I
don't know -- it's all Greek to me.
Percy: They
speak Greek?
Edmund: No,
I mean it sounds like Greek.
Percy: Well,
if sounds like Greek, it probably is Greek.
Edmund: It's
not Greek!
Percy: ...but
it sounds like Greek. "What's not Greek but sounds like Greek?" That's
a good one, My Lord!
Edmund: Look,
it's not meant to be a brainteaser, Percy! I'm simple telling you that
I cannot understand a blind word they're saying!
Percy: Well,
no wonder, My Lord -- you never learned Greek, of course.
Edmund: [calmly]
Percy, have you ever wondered what your insides look
like?
Percy: Sometimes,
My Lord, yes.
Edmund: [holds
up a knife, shouts] Then I'd be perfectly willing
to satisfy your curiousity! Is that clear? Is it? Oh my God, this Scotsman's
beginning to annoy me already. I'm the Duke of Edinburgh, you know, and
Laird of Roxburgh, Selkirk and Peebles. I can make things very difficult
for him. As for these entertainments, oh, I don't know... Baldrick, you've
got a beard -- go and get yourself a nice dress.
Baldrick: [excited]
Oh, great, My Lord! [exits]
Edmund: Percy,
you'd better go and get Bernard the Bear Baiter...
Percy: Yes,
My Lord. [begins to leave]
Edmund: ...looks
like we'll be needing him. Oh, and, Percy...
Percy: Yes,
My Lord?
Edmund: Tell
him to bring a bear this time. [Percy leaves; Edmund speaks to himself]
The improvising last year was pathetic!
Harry: [stands]
Now then, Mother: a toast to Father's return.
[a fanfare plays; enter a man, on horseback, wearing a horned helmet]
Harry: What
the devil?! [then he realizes who it is] It's
McAngus! [Queen is excited, too]
Queen: (???????)
[McAngus dismounts, removes his helmet, giving it to a guard, then
takes a couple bags from his horse, and approaches the table]
McAngus: Noble
Harry, Prince of Wales, Dougal McAngus greets you, and lays at your feet
the spoils of an enemy at war. [he dumps the contents of a bag on
the table; a severed human head]
McAngus: Oh,
sorry -- that's my overnight bag. [he dumps the other bag on the
table; gold Turkish goblets etc.] Behold! Treasures
torn from the (??) of the Turks!
Harry: Oh,
McAngus! It fills me with joy and hope to see you! [they shake hands
firmly] What news of my father, the King?
McAngus: When
I last saw him, he swore he would be back for the Feast of St. Leonard,
or die in the attempt.
Harry: God
forfend! We shall pray for his safe return. Join us! Join us! You must
be starving.
McAngus: [motions
behind him] And young (Lochenbaugh?)?
Harry: [looking
toward the doorway] Oh yes, and him too.
McAngus: Come
on, Lochenbaugh! [he leads his horse to the table; Queen is a bit
shocked. He steps over the table and sits down beside Queen, where Harry
had motioned for him to sit]
McAngus: [to
Queen] You must be the King's wee bit of rumpy-pumpy,
eh?
Queen: [confused]
I am the Queen.
McAngus: Aye,
aye. Listen, I got a message for you. My father asked me to send his regards
to you.
Queen: Do
I know him?
McAngus: Oh,
I think you can say that, yes -- he's Donald McAngus, Third Duke of Argyll.
[laughs]
Queen: [very
shocked] Oh... [There is an extremely poorly
played fanfare; Edmund enters, sneering at the trumpeter]
Harry: Ah,
Edmund, there you are. McAngus, this is the man who's providing the entertainments
for us tomorrow.
McAngus: Ah,
the eunuch! [hands Edmund a coin] Here's a
groat for your trouble.
Edmund: [holding
back his anger, which raises the pitch of his voice] Agghh,
I am not a eunuch.
McAngus: You
sound like one to me.
Edmund: [clears
his throat] I am not a eunuch. I am the Duke of Edinburgh.
McAngus: [chuckles]
Oh, you are, are you?
Edmund: Yes!
McAngus: [to
Queen] Same old story, eh? The Duke of Edinburgh's
about as Scottish as the Queen of England's tits! [Queen is enormously
shocked.]
McAngus: Sorry
-- ahem, mere phrase, Your Majesty.
Edmund: I'm
sorry, you're in my chair.
McAngus: Don't
apologise. [Edmund is quite inflamed; he goes down to his knees
(there are no chairs left).]
Harry: [stands,
holding a large document] Well, now we've all got
to know each other, I have rather a special announcement to make.
McAngus: Don't
tell me you're a eunuch as well...!
Harry: McAngus,
as reward for your heroic deeds in battle, my father here empowers me to
grant you anything that you may desire of me.
Edmund: [sotto
voce] If he's got any sense, he'll ask for a haircut.
McAngus: [stands]
My Lord, I'm honoured. All I ask for is a scrap of
land. Grant me fair Selkirk, and the noble sire of Roxburgh.
Edmund: [stands]
What?!
Harry: Very
well. By the power invested in me--
Edmund: Er,
excuse me... Erm, I'm sorry to dip my little fly in your ointment, but,
er, those lands do, in fact, belong to me.
Harry: [as
if to say 'So?'] Yes?
Edmund: Well,
so, perhaps, perhaps he'd like to choose somewhere else.
Harry: McAngus?
McAngus: No,
no; I'll have Roxburgh and Selkirk.
Edmund: But
that leaves me with Peebles!
McAngus: Oh,
aye! and Peebles.
Edmund: B--
b-- but...
Harry: Are
you trying to say something, Edmund?
Edmund: Well,
I don't know, I mean, some people might say, "Well! What an absurd idea,
giving away half of Scotland to a kilted maniac for slaughtering a couple
of syphillitic Turks!" [McAngus reaches across the table and grabs
Edmund]
Edmund: Au
contraire! I say, "Let's reward him."
Harry: Good,
good! So be it! [him and McAngus laugh and shake hands]
Edmund: [still
being held firmly by McAngus] Hurray!
[cut to Edmund's quarters. Baldrick is in a dress and wig, twirling
around in front of Percy, who nods; Edmund enters]
Edmund: I'm gonna
kill him, and I'm gonna kill him now!
Percy: Who,
My Lord?
Edmund: That
stinking Scottish weasel!
Baldrick: Why,
My Lord?
Edmund: Because
he's a thieving stinking Scottish weasel, that's why! [he goes to
get a knife]
Percy: How?
Edmund: I'm
gonna stab him!
Baldrick: Where?
Edmund: In
the Great Hall and in the bladder! [he begins to sharpen a knife]
Percy: But
if you do it in front of everybody, won't they suspect something?
Edmund: Ah,
yes -- a drawback. Yes... Perhaps we need something a little more cunning.
Baldrick: I
have a cunning plan.
Edmund: Yes,
perhaps, but I think I may have a more cunning one.
Baldrick: Well,
mine's pretty cunning, My Lord.
Edmund: Yes,
but not cunning enough, I imagine.
Baldrick: Well,
that depends how cunning you mean, My Lord.
Edmund: Well,
pretty damn cunning. How cunning do you think I mean?
Baldrick: Well,
mine's quite cunning, My Lord.
Edmund: [fed
up] Alright, then, let's hear it! Let's hear what's
so damn cunning!
Baldrick: Right,
well, first of all, you get him to come with you--
Edmund: Oh
yes, very cunning. Brilliantly cunning. I ask him to come with me and then...then
stab him, perhaps. How cunning can you get?
Baldrick: No,
My Lord -- you get this enormous great cannon--
Edmund: [as
though the idea is ridiculous] Oh, I see, I take
him outside, get him to stick his head down a cannon and then blow it off.
Baldrick: [simultaneously]
...blow it off! Yeah!
Edmund: Oh,
yes, Baldrick, that's [thinks about it] ...that's
a wonderful idea. No! I think I have a plan that will give us a little
more *entertainment*. [laughs]
[Edmund looks out the window, and sees McAngus leave. He goes outside
and finds a woman riding a horse, sidesaddle. He bows to her, then grabs
her feet and pushes her off the mount. He then follows the Scotsman, who
is out for a hunt. Edmund sneaks up behind, but gets caught in McAngus'
animal snare.]
Edmund: Aaahhhhh!
[now he's hanging upside-down]
McAngus: [without
looking] Can I help you?
Edmund: Um,
no, no. I'm fine, thank you.
McAngus: Good.
[long pause]
Edmund: I'm
not in your way over here, am I?
McAngus: No.
Edmund: Oh,
there is just, er, one thing. Um...I was wondering if you could do me a
little favour.
McAngus: [finally
stands up and turns to Edmund] Uh huh?
Edmund: Erm,
I was wondering if you'd like to help with the celebrations tonight.
McAngus: How?
By staying away, d'you mean? [Edmund chuckles a bit, then starts
to scream as McAngus raises an axe. McAngus chops Edmund's bindings; Edmund
falls to the forest floor, and remains lying there, trying to look casual.]
Edmund: Erm,
well, the thing is: um, we were hoping to present a mystery play by one
of our leading Thespianic troupes, erm, but, unfortunately, one of their
number is ill, erm, and I thought you'd be the perfect person to
[stands] ... to take his place.
McAngus: Well,
I warn you [he swipes down at the ground, killing a (badger?)]:
I'm no actor.
Edmund: Well,
there shouldn't be much acting required. [McAngus tosses the creature's
corpse aside] Erm, it's an ancient Egyptian piece,
er, called 'The Death of the Scotsman'.
McAngus: I'll
have a crack at it. [throws a knife; a creature releases a short
scream before dying]
Edmund: You...you
could play the Scotsman, if you like, who...who dies at the end of the
play.
McAngus: Oh!
Acting dead! Now that I can do. [walks off]
Edmund: Yes,
well, as I say: there...there may not be much acting required. [grins
evilly to himself, then walks off a bit proudly]
McAngus: Oh,
and er, mind the weasel pit.
Edmund: [falls
in] Aaahhhhh!
[cut to the entertainments. The Jumping Jews are jumping, all at apparently
different rhythms, despite the rhythmic twang of a Jew's harp. Harry and
Queen look bored. Edmund takes a bit of cloth backstage, checks that no-one
is looking, then replaces the fake, sliding-blade knives for the play with
real ones, which were wrapped in the cloth he was carrying. After wrapping
up the fake knives, he whispers to Percy, who takes the cloth-wrapped fake
knives away. Then Edmund tests the real knives by sticking one into the
table, but he's unable to pull it out. He turns around, hiding the real
knife stuck in the table, as Prique and his Wooferoonies arrive, waving
their arms in the air.]
Prique: Tall trees!
Let's see those branches waving and swaying in the breeze. Taller, taller,
taller. Now smaller! [they all crouch down] Small
trees, very small...
Edmund: Ah,
Sir Dominick! Have you made the necessary changes?
Prique: Yes,
My Lord. [Edmund finally pulls out the knife, but his energy propels
him into Prique and the Wooferoonies. He does conceal the knife, though,
as McAngus enters, wearing a pharoah's headdress and carrying an Egyptian
cane-thing.]
Edmund: Ah!
McAngus! Meet your murderers. [Prique and the Wooferoonies continue
their warmup -- crouching down and then rising while saying a slow 'Woof!'
McAngus looks a bit baffled. The Jumping Jews finish their act, and get
very little applause. They go backstage, where Prique is singing a 'mi'.
One of the Wooferoonies stops one of the Jews.]
Wooferoonie (1 or 2?): How did it go?
Jumping Jew: Er,
not bad. [He removes his false beard to reveal his real beard underneath.]
But, er, you know, I don't really think they understood
it.
[Prique and the Wooferoonies sheath their knives and begin the play.]
Prique: (????)
with most bold intent...
Wooferoonie (1 or 2?): Here by the (?) of the graceful Nile...
Prique: Where
camels ride and deserts blow...
Wooferoonie (1 or 2): To spill the blood of this Scotsman vile...
Queen: [to
Harry] What is a Scotsman doing in Egypt?
Harry: I'm
not sure, but apparently they've had very good reviews.
McAngus: [to
Edmund] You see your mother there? I met my father
on my way back from France. Apparently, him and your mother used to
[he bends his arm with a clenched fist] way-hey-hey!
Edmund: Look,
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.
McAngus: Don't
you believe it. I got some letters I took (???), and -- by God! -- they're
hot stuff! I tell you, they certainly cast a wee shadow of doubt over the
patronage of young Harry for a start!
Edmund: Look,
don't be absu-- [he realises what that would mean]
Wooferoonie (1 or 2?): Silence!
Edmund: [to
McAngus backstage] What?!
Wooferoonie (1 or 2?): Listen! A bagpipe strums. Behold! This way our
victim comes. For never was there a tyrant (...)
McAngus: Oh that's
my cue! I'm on!
Edmund: Letters?
Letters? Where are these letters?
McAngus: They're
safely hidden away. I'll show you them later. [goes on stage]
Edmund: Oh,
all right. [realises that won't be possible]
Wooferoonie (1 or 2): (...) the shadow of yonder mighty Fen Ness!
Wooferoonie (the other): Tutankhamen McPerson, you come not a wait
too soon; for is this not the weather fair for this, the ides of June?
[one of the audience shakes his head at the horrible acting and/or nonsense
dialogue]
McAngus: [acting
really badly] Aye, it is. What business do you mean?
[backstage, Edmund is desperate. He comes up behind Percy and Baldrick,
who watch the play through peepholes, eagerly awaiting the murder]
Edmund: Quick!
Oh my God! McAngus is going to die!
Percy: And
not a moment too soon!
Baldrick: Carrot-faced
orangutan!
Percy: Theiving
Scots weasel!
Baldrick and
Percy:
Death to the Scot!!!
Edmund: No,
no! Look, he knows too much!
Percy: [dramatically]
That is why he must die!
Edmund: No,
he musn't! He musn't! He has vital information. I've changed my mind! I've
changed my mind! Oh my God! What am I going to do?
Baldrick: Er,
stop the show, My Lord.
Edmund: How?
How?
Percy: Just
say 'Stop!'
Edmund: What's
our reason? What's our reason for stopping the show?
Percy: Because
the knives are real and McAngus is just about to get killed.
Edmund: Oh,
you bastard! [He picks up a knife and stabs Percy -- but it's one
of the fake knives. He then gets an idea.]
Baldrick: Go
on, My Lord! Quick! [Edmund hurriedly fits the cloth over his head
in an Egyptian fashion, and prances on stage just as Prique and the Wooferoonies
are about to very dramatically stab McAngus.]
Edmund: Stop!
[trying to act] Sorry I'm late. [stabs McAngus]
[confused pause] [Edmund stabs McAngus again] [confused pause] [Edmund
pushes McAngus]
McAngus: Oh,
aye! [falls over] Auugh! [Harry is
extremely bored. Only the man who shook his head earlier, and one woman,
applauds, very slowly, as though it's quite an effort to applaud something
so awful.]
[Later, McAngus shows the letters to Edmund, who laughs]
Edmund: Good,
excellent! It's certainly my mother's handwriting. When did you say these
were written?
McAngus: Er,
1460.
Edmund: The
year my brother was born... [laughs] Baldrick,
get in here! [Baldrick enters] Baldrick, get
out there and tell everyone that the rest of the entertainments have been
cancelled.
Baldrick: Why?
Edmund: 'Why'?
Because I told you to, you silly little rat!
Baldrick: No
-- why have they been cancelled, My Lord?
Edmund: Oh,
I see. Well, tell them I have a very important announcement to make.
[laughs]
Baldrick: Does
that mean I have to take the dress off?
Edmund: Oh
get out, get out, get out! Out out out out! [as Baldrick leaves,
McAngus reaches between Baldrick's legs from behind]
McAngus: Y'know,
if you played your cards right, you could become King.
Edmund: Ah
yes, one day.
McAngus: Ah,
sooner than you think, maybe. The last time I saw your father, he'd just
charged (?) Constantinople when they shut the gates on him.
Edmund: [excited]
Oh?
McAngus: Yes.
Ten thousand of the Turks were there armed with scimitars, and your father
with a small knife for peeling fruit.
[Edmund can barely contain himself, covering his mouth as he giggles.]
[Back at the entertainments, a man on stage shoos away his four chickens,
who have just laid eggs.]
Harry: Jerry Meriwether...
another nail in the coffin of variety.
Queen: I liked
Bernard the Rabbit Baiter!
Edmund: [arriving
on stage with Percy and McAngus] Thank you, thank
you.
Harry: Look,
Edmund, is this announcement going to take long? I haven't seen hide nor
hair of a eunuch yet.
Edmund: Oh,
don't worry, Harry -- it will soon all be over. My dear mother, my dear
brother, lords and ladies of the court: Today, there came into my possession,
from the hands, My Lord, of your faithful servant, Dougal McAngus, certain
letters -- rather extraordinary letters -- concerning the lineage of Prince
Harry.
Queen: L--
l-- letters? What is so extraordinary about them?
Harry: Letters?
Edmund: Well,
Harry, they were written by your mother to your father. [Harry chuckles,
no longer worrying]
Edmund: Your
father, Harry, being, of course, Donald, Third Duke of Argyll. [Queen
is extremely shocked. Baldrick puts a hand on her shoulder.]
Harry: I beg
your pardon!!!
Edmund: These
letters are of quite an intimate nature. Let me give you an example.
[takes one from Percy, who mouths the words as Edmund reads] "Arundel;
Thursday. My dear Hairy-wairy: Often when you sit at table with my husband,
probing deeply into the affairs of state, I long for the day when you will
probe deeply--" [Queen is nearly fainting from shock]
Harry: Edmund!
Are you sure you know what you are saying?
Edmund: As
sure as our mother was, Harry, when she wrote these words: [takes
another one from Percy, who mouths again as Edmund reads] "Dear
Big-boy: Sail south! As you know, your galleon is always assured a warm
welcome in *my* harbour."
Harry: "Big-boy"?
Mother, do you know anything about this?
Queen: What
chance did I have? I was just a little foreign girl.
Harry: Then
I must renounce the Regency and hie me to a monastery. Edmund, you shall
be Regent until ... *your* father returns.
Edmund: The
King will not be returning.
Harry: WHAT?
Queen: [smiling]
Oh dear.
Edmund: No,
when McAngus last saw him, he was facing half the Turkish army, armed only
with a small piece of cutlery. So, Percy, if you'd like to start things
off... [he goes to stand where Harry was sitting]
Percy: [standing
on a table] The King is dead! Long live the King!
[people join in] The King is dead! Long live the
King!
Harry: ...*probably*
dead. [the incidental music stops suddenly; pause]
Percy &
all: The King is probably dead! Long live the King!
The King is probably dead! Long live the King! The King is-- [King
enters]
Percy &
all: ...not dead! Long live the King! [Everyone
cheers. Percy gets down from the table.]
King: BLOOD!
DEATH! WAR! RUMPY-PUMPY! TRIUMPH! [tosses down his lance, then sees
McAngus] McANGUS!!! [they embrace] My
companion in blood, and most trusted friend!
McAngus: You
made it!
King: I made
it, thanks to my trusty fruit knife! [runs the tiny knife across
his throat; laughs; then sees Edmund standing next to the Queen] Wait
a minute! [climbs onto the table] What's going
on here? [points at Edmund] Who are you?
Queen: He's
our son.
King: What?!
[does a bit of a double-take] Oh, yes! Of course
-- Enid!
Edmund: My
beloved father, certain letters have come to light which might change things
a bit around here.
King: Letters?
What letters?
Edmund: They
speak of acts of love between your wife and Donald, the Gay Dog of the
Glens. [reads] "How I long to be in that kingdom
between the saffron sheets where you and your ruler are the only ruler."
[Queen nearly faints again]
Edmund: And
then acts of love consummated, "Oh, you enormous Scotsman," et cetera.
And these letters are dated November and December 1460, which, Harry, in
relation to your date of birth, is precisely nine months--
Harry: ...*after*
I was born!
McAngus: [smiling]
But about nine months before *your* birth, Edmund!
Edmund: YOU
BASTARD!
Harry: No
-- I think *you're* the bastard, Edmund. [everyone laughs]
King: Silence!
I want an explanation!
Edmund: Er,
My Liege, the reason I have gathered you all here today [he gathers
the letters, and approaches McAngus] is to try to
get some proper justice meeted out against this Scottish turd who has clearly
forged these obviously fake letters!
King: Let
me see them!
Edmund: No,
I rip them up in his face so that no hint of their filthy slander can remain.
[He has done so, and picks up a piece he dropped, then rushes to the fireplace
and tosses them in. He then returns to McAngus.] You
come in here, fresh from slaughtering a couple of chocos when their backs
were turned, and you think you can upset the harmony of a whole kingdom?
I challenge you to a duel!
McAngus: ...to
the death!!!
Edmund: [weakly]
Erm... yes, alright.
King: Excellent
idea! After all, it is St. Leonard's Day -- there's meant to be some entertainment!
[laughs; climbs down to them] Good. Very good. Take
your places. [Edmund and McAngus go to opposite ends of the stage,
Edmund clearly muttering a prayer. King goes to McAngus and rubs his lucky
fruit knife along McAngus' sword.]
King: It is
nice to see old glen (shear?) again, eh, McAngus?
McAngus: (?????????)
and the human shishkebab! [he thrusts his sword straight up; he
and King laugh]
King: How
could I ever forget! [shouts] Very well! Let
the killing begin! [Edmund draws his sword, and sillily waves it
about, trying to look like a skilled swordsman... One of the men at the
tables sighs, his eyes rolling. As soon as Edmund stops moving his sword,
McAngus swings and slices the blade off.]
McAngus: Let's
see the Black Adder wriggle out of this one! [puts his sword to
Edmund's neck]
Edmund: Er,
look... [McAngus pauses]
King: Come
on! What's the hold up?
Edmund: Er,
I'll give you everything I own! Everything!
McAngus: Uh
huh?
Edmund: I'm,
I'm hardly a rich man.
King: You're
hardly a man at all! [laughs]
Edmund: But,
but my horse must be worth a thousand ducats. I can sell my wardrobe --
the pride of my life -- my swords, my curtains, my socks, and my fighting
cocks. My servants I can live without, except perhaps he who oils my rack.
[King yawns]
Edmund: And
then my most intimate treasures: my collection of antique codpieces, my
wigs for state occasions, my wigs for private occassions, and my wigs --
heh -- for humourous occassions; my collection of pokers, my (Grendel's
stretchers?), my ornamental (pumphries?), and, of course, my autographed
miniature of Judas Iscariot.
McAngus: [turns
to the crowd and laughs] That's nowhere near enough!
[McAngus prepares to thrust; Edmund covers his face; McAngus then lowers
his sword.]
McAngus: Och,
I'm only kiddin'! [mutters to Edmund] Actually,
I'm quite interested in the wigs. [shouts something ("Well done,
lad"?); playfully hits Edmund in the arm, then walks over to King, but
shouts back to Edmund, who slowly is leaving] Hey!
I hope life doesn't become too dull now that you won't be able to pass
laws over Scotland.
Edmund: [nods,
then turns and speaks sotto voce] I wouldn't pass
water over Scotland.
[cut to room outside the throne room. King is looking out the window,
bored]
Harry: We're all
terribly pleased you're back, Father.
King: I'm
not. I miss the smell of blood in my nostrils, and the Queen's "got a headache."
Harry: Oh
dear. But we do have a fascinating week ahead. In fact, the Archbishop
of York has asked me if you'd care to join his formation Italian dance
class, and I really ought to give him an answer.
King: Do you
want me to be honest or tactful?
Harry: Er,
tactful, I think.
King: Tell
him to get stuffed!
Harry: Ah,
right.
King: Has
the little hooligan McAngus left?
Harry: No,
Edmund's giving him a last look round the castle now.
[cut to outside, at the top of the castle. Edmund shows McAngus the
view from an archer's battlement, then turns away]
Edmund: ...while
this... [shows McAngus a cannon]
[cut back to King and Harry]
King: Well, I'll
be sorry to see him go.
McAngus: [with
his head down the mouth of the cannon] Ah, very interesting.
[Edmund moves to behind the cannon]
Harry: Yes, and
so will Edmund -- they've become firm friends. [a very loud sound
is heard from outside]
Harry: What
the devil?!
King: The
Turks!
Harry: The
drains! [Edmund runs in]
Edmund: Father!
Harry! There's been rather a messy accident. You must come quickly!
Harry: Oh
my God! I shall need my plunger! [rushes out, follwed by King] [Edmund
jumps for joy]
Cast in Geographical Order
The Laird of Roxburgh, Selkirk, and Peebles
ROWAN ATKINSON
Richard XII of Scotland BRIAN BLESSED
McAngus, Duke of Argyll ALEX NORTON
Percy, Duke of Northumberland TIM
McINNERNY
Gertrude, Queen of Flanders ELSPET
GRAY
Harry, Prince of Wales ROBERT EAST
Baldrick, Bachelor of the Parish of Ghigwell
TONY ROBINSON
Jumping Jew of Jerusalem ANGUS DEAYTON
Celia, Countess of Cheltenham JOOLIA
CAPPLEMAN
Sir Dominick Prique of Stratford MARTIN
CLARKE
2nd Wooferoonie MARTIN SOAN
3rd Wooferoonie MALCOLM HARDEE
Messenger DAVID NUNN
Written by RICHARD CURTIS and ROWAN ATKINSON
With additional dialoge by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
A BBC TV Production in association with The Seven Network, Australia
Made in Glorious Television
(c) BBC MCMLXXXIII