Note: Blackadder himself is referred to either as BA or EB


"Baldrick, your brain is like the four headed, man-eating haddock fish beast of Aberdeen"
"In what way? "
"It doesn't exist "

"They do say, Mrs M., that verbal insults hurt more than physical pain. They are of course wrong, as you will soon discover...when I stick this toasting fork in your head." "Have you ever been to Wales, Baldrick?"
"No, but I've often thought I'd like to."
"Well don't, it's a ghastly place. Huge gangs of tough sinewy men roam the valleys terrifying people with their close harmony singing. You need half a pint of phlegm in your throat just to pronounce the
placenames. Never ask for directions in Wales Baldrick, you'll be washing spit out of your hair for a fortnight." Baldrick, you wouldn't recognize a subtle plan if it painted itself purple and danced naked on a harpsicord singing 'subtle plans are here again'. I fear the words "I have a cunning plan" are rapidly marching towards this conversation with ill-deserved confidence. "Tell me, Brother Baldrick, what exactly did God do to the Sodomites?"
"I dunno, but I can't imagine it was worse than what they used to do to each other." I can't see the point in the theatre. All that sex and violence. I get enough of that at home. Apart from the sex, of course. "I want my mother."
"Ah, yes Baldrick. A maternally crazed gorilla would come in handy at this very moment." "Ah, Blackadder. Started talking to yourself, I see."
"'s the only way I can be assured of intelligent conversation." "I don't take kindly to insults"
"Funny, with a face like yours, I'd have thought you'd be used to it by now." As a reward, Baldrick, take a short holiday...did you enjoy it? BELLS

In the house of Kate and her father.

K: Father, I must speak. I can be silent no longer. All day long you muttered to yourself, gibbered, dribbled, moaned and bat your head against the wall, yelling "I want to die". Now you may say I'm leaping to conclusions but you're not *completely* happy, are you? It's mother, isn't it?
F: No, it is not.
K: You're brooding over her death, aren't you?
F: Kate, for the final time, your mother is not dead. She's run off with your uncle Henry.
K: Dear father, I know you only say such things to comfort me.
F: Your mother is alive and well and living in Droitwich. It is not her I brood over. I'm sad because, my darling, our poverty has now reached such extremes that I can no longer afford to keep us. I must look to my own dear tiny darling to sustain me in my frail dotage.
K: But father, surely...
F: Yes Kate, I want you to become a prostitute.
K: Father!
F: Do you defy me?
K: But indeed, I do. For it is better to die poor than to live in shame and ignominy.
F: No, it isn't.
K: I'm young and strong and clever. My nose is pretty. I shall find another way to earn us a living.
F: Oh, please... go on the game. It is a steady job and you'd be working from home.
K: Goodbye father. I shall go to London, disguise my self as a boy and seek my fortune!
F: But why go all the way to London when you can make a fortune lying on your back?

EB becomes worried about the feelings he is getting for his manservant, Bob, who is actually a cunningly disguised good-looking girl called Kate, and goes to the doctors.
D: Now then what seems to be the trouble?
E: Well, it is my man servant.
D: I see. Well don't be embarrassed if you got the pocks. Just pop your man servant on the table and we'll take a look at him.
E: No, I mean, it is my real man servant.
D: Ah, ah. And what is wrong with him?
E: There is nothing wrong with him. That is the problem. He's perfect and last night I almost kissed him.
D: I see. So you started fancying boys then, have you?
E: Not boys. A boy.
D: Yes, well let's not split hairs. It is all rather disgusting and naturally you're worried.
E: Of course I'm worried.
D: Well, of course you are. It isn't every day a man wakes up to discover he's a screaming bender with no more right to live on Gods clean earth than a weazle. Ashamed of your self?
E: Not really, no.
D: Bloody hell! I would be. But still why should I complain? Just leaves more rampant totty for us real men, eh?
E: Look, am I paying for this personal abuse or is it extra?
D: No, it's all part of the service. I think you're in luck though. An extraordinary new cure has just been developed for exactly this kind of sordid problem.
E: It wouldn't have anything to do with leeches, would it?
D: I had no idea you were a medical man.
E: Never had anything you doctors didn't try to cure with leeches. A leech on my ear for ear ache, a leech on my bottom for constipation.
D: They're marvellous, aren't they?
E: Well, the bottom one wasn't. I just sat there and squashed it.
D: You know the leech comes to us on the highest authority?
E: Yes. I know that. Dr. Hoffmann of Stuttgart, isn't it?
D: That's right, the great Hoffmann.
E: Owner of the largest leech farm of Europe.
D: Yes. Well, I cannot spend all day gossiping. I'm a busy man. As far as this case is concerned I have now had time to think it over and I can strongly recommend a course of leeches.
E: Yes. I 'll pop a couple down my codpiece before I go to bed.
D: No, no, no, no. Don't be ridiculous. This isn't the dark ages. Just pop four in your mouth in the morning and let them dissolve slowly. In a couple of weeks you 'll be beating your servant with a stick, just like the rest of us.

EB goes to visit the Wise Woman in Putney and asks a Young Crone for information
E: Tell me Young crone, is this Putney?
C: That it be, that it be.
E: "Yes it is". Not "that it be". You don't have to talk in that stupid voice to me. I'm not a tourist. I seek information about a Wisewoman.
C: Ah, the Wisewoman.. the Wisewoman.
E: Yes, the Wisewoman.
C: Two things, my lord, must thee know of the Wisewoman. First, she is... a woman, and second, she is ...
E: .. wise?
C: You do know her then?
E: No, just a wild stab in the dark which is incidentally what you'll be getting if you don't start being a bit more helpful. Do you know where she lives?
C: Of course.
E: Where?
C: Here. Do you have an appointment?
E: No.
C: Well, you can go in anyway.
E: Thank you Young crone. Here is a purse of moneys... which I'm not going to give to you.


BA: Please let me finish. What, are you wearing round your neck?
P: Ah! It's my new rough!
BA: You look like a bird who's swallowed a plate!
P: It's the latest fashion actually and as a matter of fact it makes me look rather sexy!
BA: To another plate swallowing bird perhaps. If it was blind and hadn't had it in months.

M: Unhappily Blackadder, the Lord High Executioner is dead.
BA: Oh woe ! Murdered of course.
M: No, oddly enough no. They usually are but this one just got careless one night and signed his name on the wrong dotted line. They came for him while he slept. - Melchett & 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 find that under this playful boyish exterior beats the heart of a ruthless sadistic maniac.
        - Blackadder's induction speech as Lord High Executioner

BA: Good, well done and your name is ?
P: Ploppy Sir.
BA: Ploppy ?
P: Yes Sir.
BA: Ploppy the jailor ?
P: That's right Sir. Ploppy son of Ploppy.
BA: Ploppy, son of Ploppy the jailor ?
M: Ah ach no Sir. I am the first Ploppy to rise to be jailor.My father, Daddy Ploppy was known as Ploppy the slopper. It was from him that I inherited my fascinating skin diseases.
BA: Yes you are to be congratulated, my friend, we, we live in an age where illness and deformity are common place and yet Ploppy, you are without a doubt the most repulsive individual that I have ever met. I would shake your hand but I fear it would come off.

And in Genoa, 'tis now the fashion to pin a live frog to the shoulder braid, stand in a bucket and go "bibble" at passers by. POTATO

To you it's a potato, to me it's a potato. But to Sir Walter Bloody Raleigh it's country estates, fine carriages, 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.

"You'd never dare. Why, 'round the Cape, the rain beats down so hard it makes your head bleed! "
"So, some sort of hat is probably in order " "You have a woman's hand, milord! I'll wager these dainty pinkies never weighed anchor in a storm."
"Your skin milord. I'll wager it ne'er felt the lash of a cat ['o' nine tails], been rubbed with salt, and then flayed off by a pirate chief to make fine stockings for his best cabin boy."
"Ha. -Aah! You have a woman's purse! I'll wager that purse has never been used as a rowing-boat. I'll wager it's never had sixteen shipwrecked mariners tossing in it."
"Oh! You have a woman's mouth, milord! I'll wager that mouth never had to chew through the side of a ship to escape the dreadful spindly killer fish. " "I must say, when I came to see you, I had no idea I was going to have to eat your ship as well as hire it. And since you're clearly as mad as a mongoose I'll bid you farewell." - EB "Aaah, courtiers to the Queen, you're nothing but lapdogs to a slip of a girl."
"Better a 'lapdog to a slip of a girl', than a... Git." R: You have a woman's legs, my lord! I'll wager those are legs that have never been sliced clean off by a falling sail, and swept into the sea before your very eyes.
E : Well, neither have yours.
R: That's where you're wrong [throws aside table showing his lack of legs]
E: Oh my God!
R: No point in changing your mind now; no one else will come. The whole thing's suicide anyway. Farewell, Blackadder [hands him a parchment]. The foremost cartographers of the land have prepared this for you; it's a map of the area that you'll be traversing. [Blackadder opens it up and sees it is blank] -They'll be very grateful if you could just fill it in as you go along. Bye-bye. E: Look, there's no need to panic. Someone in the crew will know how to steer this thing.
R: The crew, milord?
E: Yes, the crew.
R: What crew?
E: I was under the impression that it was common maritime practice for a ship to have a crew.
R: Opinion is divided on the subject.
E: Oh, really? [starting to get the picture]
R: Yahs. All the other captains say it is; I say it isn't.
E: Oh, God; Mad as a brush. "Madam, without you, life was like a broken pencil...pointless." "I'd like to see the Spaniard who could make his way past ME!"
"Well, go to Spain. There are millions of 'em." "We're doomed to a watery grave with a Captain who's legless..."
"Rubbish! I've hardly touched a drop!"
"No, no, I haven't got any legs."

        - Percy and Captain Rum


E: (wearily) Oh god. What time is it?
B: Four o'clock.
E: Baldrick, I've told you before: you mustn't let me sleep all day; this woman charges by the hour.
B: No, My Lord, it's four o'clock in the morning.
E: Someone wants to see me at four in the morning? What is he, a giant lark?
B: No, he's a priest.
E: Tell him I'm jewish.
M: (pushing herself out from beneath the covers at the foot of the bed) Aren't you going to introduce me, then?
E: What?
M: Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?
E: Oh very well, but I think you're making a terrible mistake. Baldrick,I'm delighted to introduce you to ... I'm sorry, I've forgotten your name.
M: Mollie!
E: Of course, Mollie. Baldrick, this is Mollie, a dear friend of mine.
M: I'm not dear. I'm very reasonable actually, Baldrick. Most girls would charge an extra sixpence for all the horrible things he wants to do.
E: Alright, alright. Baldrick, this is Mollie, an inexpensive prostitute. Mollie, this is Baldrick, a pointless peasant. Now let me get some sleep.

EB is trying to sell his house
M: What about the privies?
E: Well, what we're talking about in, erm, privy terms is the very latest in front-wall, fresh-air orifices, combined with a wide-capacity gutter installation below.
M: You mean you crap out of the window.
E: Yes!
M: Well! In that case, we'll *definitely* take it! I can't stand those dirty indoor things.

The eyes are open, the mouth moves, but Mr. Brain has long since departed, hasn't he, Perce ?

You should have killed me while you had the chance. You have looked in wonder at your last dawn, Blackadder! BEER

P: I must say, Edmund, it was jolly nice of you to ask me to share your breakfast before the rigours of the day begin.
E: Well, it is said, Percy, that civilised man seeks out good and intelligent company, so that, through learned discourse, he may rise above the savage and closer to God.
P: Yes, I've heard that.
E: Personally, however, I like to start the day with a total dickhead to remind me I'm best.

No thank you! Cold is God's way of telling us to burn more catholics!

Don't call me `Aunty'!!! `Aunt' is a relative, and relatives are evidence of sex, and sex is hardly a fitting subject for the dinner table. Well, 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 corridors of Hampton Court singing, "I'm Merlin, The Happy Pig!" "Oh, that's another good idea. You're so clever today, you better be careful your foot doesn't fall off."
"Does that happen when you have lots of brilliant ideas? Your foot falls off?"
"It certainly does. My brother; he had this brilliant idea of cutting his toenails with a scythe, and >his< foot fell off..." Queen: [smiles, a bit turned on] 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...

Monk: Great booze-up, Edmund! [farts, leaves]
Aunt: Do you know that man?
Edmund: [looks behind himself as though he didn't really see] No...
Aunt: He called you `Edmund'...
Edmund: Oh, know him...oh, yes, I do.
Aunt: Then can you explain what he meant by `great booze-up'?
Edmund: [thinks ... ... ... thinks ... ... ... thinks ... ... ... thinks ] Yes, I can... My missionary...and...on his last visit abroad...brought back with him...the chief of a famous tribe... His name is Great Bu... He's been suffering from sleeping sickness...and he has obviously just woken...because, as you heard, "Great Bu's up"...
Percy: Well done, Edmund...

"Edmund! Explain yourself!"
"I can't -- not just like that. I'm a complicated person, you see, Aunty... Sometimes I'm nice, and sometimes I'm nasty -- hee hee!...and sometimes I just like to sing little songs, like: "See the little goblin, see his little-- "

"I mean explain why you are wearing a cardinal's hat, why you are grinning inanely, and [sees the feather as Edmund turns around and falls to his knees, leaning against the chair to the side of the door] ...why you have an ostrich feather sticking out of your britches!"
"I'm wearing a cardinal's hat because I'm Cardinal Chunder; I have an ostrich feather up my bottom because Mr Ostrich put it there to keep in the little pixies -- hah hah! -- and I'm grinning inanely because I think I've just about succeeded in conning you and your daft husband out of a whopping great inheritance -- hee hee hee hee hee! " CHAINS

Oh, God, God, God. What on Earth was I drinking last night? My head feels like there's a Frenchman living in it.

 As private parts to the gods are we! They play with us for their sport! EB is being held captive by an Italian torturer
E: Oh for God's sake! Look, how can you question me if you don't speak English?
T: No! *Yo* pregunto las questionnes!
E: Alright, let's start with the basics. English is a non-inflected Indo-European language derived from dialects of....

E: I accept nothing from a man who imprisons his guests in a commode.
L: I hope this scum has not inconweenienced you.
E: It takes more than a maniac trying to cut off my goolies to inconweenience *me*.
L: Good. If he had inconweenienced you, I was going to offer you his tongue.
E: Believe me, sir: if he had inconweeniened me, you would not have a tongue with which to make such an offer.
L: 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 inconweenienced you, I would no longer have a tongue with which to offer you his tongue.

Then choose your next witticism carefully, Herr Blackadder; it may be your last. "You find yourself amusing, Herr Blackadder ? "
"I try not to fly in the face of public opinion... " # THE CAVALIER YEARS

"One civil war in the entire history of England and I'm on the wrong bloody side!"
        - Sir Edmund Blackadder, standing by King Charles I

"Don't worry sir something will pop up."
"Not under Puritanism it won't."
        - Baldrick and Blackadder

"He's got so many warts on his face it's only when he sneezes that you find out which one is his nose."
        - Blackadder, about Oliver Cromwell


( Speaker & new Prime Minister, the 16-year old Pitt The Younger )

S: Honourable members of the House of Commons, I call upon the new Prime Minister of Great Britain and Her Empires: Mr. William Pitt, the Younger.

P: Mr. Speaker, members of the House: I shall be brief, as I have, rather unfortunately, become Prime Minister right in the middle of my exams. I look forward to fulfilling my duty in a manner of which Nanny would be proud. I shall introduce legislation to utterly destory three enemies of the State. The first is that evil dictator, Napoleon Bonaparte.
(Members shout `Here here!!')

P: The second is my old Geography master, (Benonabreast Switchanks?). But most of all, sirs, I intend to pursue that utter slob, The Prince of Wales! Why, this year alone, he has spent 15,000 pounds on banqueting (shouts of `boo! boo!'), 20,000 pounds on perfume (members all hold their noses), and -- most astonishing of all -- an astonishing 59,000 pounds on socks! Therefore, my three main policy priorities are: 1) War with France; 2) Tougher sentences for geography teachers; and 3) A right royal kick of the Prince's backside!!

(all members shout affirmatively)
P: I now put upon the leader of the Opposition to test me on my Latin vocab

G: Well, they can't do that. Why, the public love me! Only the other day, I was out in the street and they sang, `We hail Prince George! We hail Prince George!'
E: `We *hate* Prince George', sir. `We *hate* Prince George!'
G: Was it?
E: I fear so, sir.

G: Well, what's he like?
E: Well, according to `Who's Who', his interests include flogging servants, shooting poor people, and the extension of slavery to anyone who hasn't got a knighthood.
G: Excellent! Sensible policies for a happier Britain! G: Ah, so you don't approve of his ( Pitt ) plans to abolish me, then.
T: I do not, sir. Damn his eyes! Damn his britches! Damn his duck pond!
G: Well, hurrah for that!
T: I care not a jot that you are the son of a certified sauerkraut-sucking loon!  G: Ah, thank you, sir.
T: It minds not me that you dress like a mad parrot and talk like a plate of beans negotiating their way out of a cow's digestive system. It is no skin off my rosy nose that there are bits of lemon peel floating down the Thames that would make better Regents than you.
G: Well, bravo!
T: The fact is, you *are* Regent...
G: Yes, I am...
T: ...appointed by God, and I shall stick by you forever, though infirmity lay me waste and ill health curse my every waking moment. (falls into the chair dead ) E: Your Highness; Pitt the Younger.
G: Why, hello there, young sabre, m'lad! I say, here's one: I've a shiny sixpence here and for the clever fellow who can tell me which hand it's in.
(Pitt just stares.)
G: Hmm? Oh, school, school! On half hols, is it? Yeah, I bet you can't wait to get back and get that bat in your hand and give those balls a good walloping, eh?
E: Mr. Pitt is the Prime Minister, sir. E: Well, we in the Adder Party are going to fight this campaign on issues, not personalities.
H: Why is that?
E: Because our candidate doesn't have a personality. INK & INCAPABILITY

B: Something wrong, Mr. B?
E: 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.

E : Right, let's get the book. Now; Baldrick, where's the manuscript?
B: You mean the big papery thing tied up with string?
E: Yes, Baldrick -- the manuscript belonging to Dr. Johnson.
B: You mean the baity fellow in the black coat who just left?
E: Yes, Baldrick -- Dr. Johnson.
B: So you're asking where the big papery thing tied up with string belonging to the baity fellow in the black coat who just left is.
E: 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 the soft dangly collection of objects in your trousers. For the last time, Baldrick, where is Dr. Johnson's manuscript?
B: On the fire.
E: (shocked) On the *what*?
B: The hot orangy thing under the stony mantlepiece.
E: You *burned* the Dictionary?

B: But then I'll go to Hell forever for stealing.
E: Baldrick, believe me: eternity in the company of Beezlebub and all his hellish instruments of death will be a picnic compared to five minutes with me -- and this pencil -- if we can't replace this Dictionary.

E: Sir, I have been unable to replace the Dictionary. I am therefore leaving immediately for Nepal, where I intend to live as a goat.
G: Why?
E: Because if I stay here, Dr. Johnson's companions will have me brutally murdered, sir.

E: Baldrick, that is by far and away, and without a shadow of doubt, the worst and most comtemptible plan in the history of the universe. On the other hand, I hear the sound of disembowelling cutlasses being sharpened, and it's the only plan we've got, so if you will excuse me, gentlemen...

J: Where is my Dictionary?E: And what dictionary would this be?
J: The one that has taken eighteen hours of every day for the last tenyears. My mother died; I hardly noticed. My father cut off his head and fried it in garlic in the hope of attracting my attention; I scarcely looked up from my work. My wife brought armies of lovers to the house, who worked in droves so that she might bring up a huge family of bastards.

E: Baldrick, fetch my novel.
B: Novel?
E: Yes -- the big papery thing tied up with string.
B: What, like the thing we burnt?
E: Exactly like the thing we burnt.
B: So you're asking for the big papery thing tied up with string, exactly like the thing we burnt.
E: Exactly.
B: We burnt it.


M: Bonjour, monsieur.
E: What?
M: Bonjour, monsieur -- it's French.
E: 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.
E: Doesn't anyone know? We hate the French! We fight wars against them! Did all those men die in vain on the field at Agincourt? Was the man who burned Joan of Arc simply wasting good matches?

You see, the ancient Greeks, Sir, 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."
We are told that, when the box was opened, the whole world turned to darkness because of Pandora's fatal curiousity. 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. E: Do you speak English?
F: A little...
E: Yes, when you say "a little," what exactly do you mean? I mean, can we talk? or are we going to spend the rest of the afternoon asking each other the way to the beach in very loud voices?
F: Ah, no. I can, er, order coffee, deal with waiters, make sexy chit-chat with girls -- that type of thing.
E: Oh, good.
F: Just don't ask me to take a physiology class or direct a light opera.
E: No, no, I won't. [propositioning] Now, listen, Frou Frou ...Would you like to earn some money?
F: 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. No he won't, Baldrick. Either I think up an idea, or, tomorrow, we die -- which, Baldrick, I have to tell you, I have no intention of doing, because 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 deaf. AMY & AMIABILITY

B: Something wrong, Mr B.?
E: I can't find a single person suitable to marry the prince.
B: Oh please keep trying. I love a royal wedding. The excitement, the crowds, the souvenir mugs, the worrying about whether the bride's lost weight.
E: Unlikely with this lot I'm afraid. If the prince had stipulated "must weigh a quarter of a ton" we'd be laughing. Of the 262 princesses in Europe, 165 are over 80, they're out, 47 are under 10, they're out, and 39 are mad.
B: Well they sound ideal.
E: Well they would be if they hadn't all got married last week in Munich to the same horse. Which leaves us with two.
B: And what about them?
E: Well, there's Grand Duchess Sophia of Turin. We'll never get her to marry him.
B: Why not?
E: Because she's *met* him.

E: Baldrick, have you no idea what irony is?
B: Yeah, it's like goldy and bronzy, only it's made of iron.
E: Well saddle my horse then.
B: What d'you think you've been eating for the last two months?
E: Well go out into the street and hire me a horse.
B: Hire you a horse? For ninepence? On Jewish New Year in the rain? A bare fortnight after the dreaded horse plague of old London Town? With the blacksmith's strike in its fifteenth week and the Dorset horse fetishists fair tomorrow?


"Tell me about these oppressed masses. What's got them so worked up ?"
"They're upset, sir, because they are so poor that they are forced to have children merely to provide a cheap alternative to turkey at Christmas."


He's mad. He's mad. He's madder than Mad Jack McMad the winner of last year's Mr Madman competition.

My mother told me to stand up to homicidal maniacs. E: Ah! Good day, cousin McAdder. I trust you are well.
MA: Aye, well enough.
E: And Morag?
MA: She bides fine.
E: And how stands that mighty army, the clan McAdder?
MA: They're both well. E: I want you to take the place of the Prince Regent and kill the Duke of Wellington in a duel.
MA: Aye, and what's in it for me?
E: Enough cash to buy the Outer Hebrides. What do you think?
MA: Fourteen shillings and six-pence? Well, it's tempting. But I've got
an even better plan. Why don't I pretend to be the Duke of Wellington
and kill the Prince of Wales in a duel? Then I could kill the King and
be crowned with the ancient stone bonnet of McAdder.

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

Very well, I accept. A man may fight for many things: his country, his principles, his friends, the glistening tear on the cheek of a golden child. But personally I'd mud wrestle my own mother for a ton of cash, an amusing clock, and a sack of French porn. You're on. PR: I die. I hope men will say of me that I did duty by my country.
B: I think that's pretty unlikely sir. If I was you I'd try for
something a bit more realistic. #


"Great Scott, sir! You mean the moment's finally arrived for us to give Harry Hun a good old British-style thrashing, six of the best, trousers down?"
"...If you mean, 'Are we all going to get killed?', then...yes."

        - George and Edmund

Clearly General Haig is about to make yet another gargantuan attempt to move his drinks cabinet six inches closer to Berlin...

        - Edmund

"That's the spirit, George. If nothing else works, then a total pig-headed unwillingness to look facts in the face will see us through."

        - General Sir Anthony Cecil Hogmanay Melchett

"Is there any particular area you'd like us to go for? We can aim anywhere..."

"...Well, in that case...just above the top of my head might be a good spot..."

"You used to have a rabbit. Beautiful little thing. Do you remember?"
"That's right. Flossy. Do you remember what happened to Flossy?"
"You shot him."
"That's right. It was the kindest thing to do after he'd been run over by that car."
"_Your_ car, sir."
"Yes, by my car. But even that was an act of mercy when you remember that that dog had been set on him."
"_Your_ dog, sir." "In short, a German spy is giving away every one of our battle plans."
"You look surprised, Blackadder."
"I cerainly am, sir. I didn't realise we _had_ any battle plans." - Cpt. Darling, Melchett and Edmund "You should treat your aircraft like you treat your woman."
"So you should take your plane out to dinner and a movie?"
"No, get in her 5 times a day and take her to heaven and back!" "If we do happen to step on a mine, Sir, what do we do ?"
"Normal procedure, Lieutenant, is to jump 200 feet in the air and scatter oneself over a wide area." "I think I'll write my tombstone - Here lies Edmund Blackadder, and he's bloody annoyed." THIS IS THE END

Baldrick: No, the thing is: The way I see it, these days there's a war on, right? and, ages ago, there wasn't a war on, right? So, there must have been a moment when there not being a war on went away, right? and there being a war on came along. So, what I want to know is: How did we get from the one case of affairs to the other case of affairs?
Edmund: Do you mean "How did the war start?"
Baldrick: Yeah.
George: The war started because of the vile Hun and his villainous empire- building.
Edmund: 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 that we can be entirely absolved of blame on the imperialistic front.
George: Oh, no, sir, absolutely not. (aside, to Baldick) Mad as a bicycle!
Baldrick: I heard that it started when a bloke called Archie Duke shot an ostrich 'cause he was hungry.
Edmund: I think you mean it started when the Archduke of Austro-Hungary got shot.
Baldrick: Nah, there was definitely an ostrich involved, sir.
Edmund: Well, possibly. But the real reason for the whole thing was that it was too much effort *not* to have a war.
George: By God this is interesting; I always loved history -- The Battle of Hastings, Henry VIII and his six knives, all that.
Edmund: You see, Baldrick, in order to prevent war in Europe, two superblocs 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: But this is a sort of a war, isn't it, sir?
Edmund: Yes, that's right. You see, there was a tiny flaw in the plan.
George: What was that, sir?
Edmund: It was bollocks.


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