Blackadder: The Cavalier Years

BLACKADDER "The Cavalier Years"

- Baldrick! - Yes, sir?

Get me some mulled ale, will you? I'm freezing.

How's the King, sir?

About as comfortable as can be expected...

...for a man who's spending the winter in a blackcurrant bush.

Do you think the Roundheads will find him?

Certainly not. I've assured him that he's as likely to be caught...

...as a fox being chased by a pack of one-legged hunting tortoises.

Is that true?

Yes, of course it's true.

Have you ever known me to lie to the King?

Yes.

- No. - Exactly.

He's absolutely safe as long as you keep your fat mouth shut.

You can trust me, sir.

Right, Baldrick, I'm off to answer the call of nature.

If, by any freak chance, Cromwell drops in here for a cup of milk...

...in the next 90 seconds, remember:

- "The King is not hiding here." - Yes, sir.

# Greensleeves... #

Good evening, citizen.

I am Oliver Cromwell.

My men have surrounded your house, and I'm looking for royalist scum.

Is the King hiding here?

No.

On pain of death and damnation, are you absolutely sure?

Yes, I am.

I see.

Well then, my proud beauty,

you won't mind if my men come in from the cold, will you?

Men, come in from the cold, will you?

Now, we'll all have a cup of milk by your fireside.

All right, but don't touch the purple cup.

- Why not? - That's the King's.

Thank you, citizen. You may leave me alone with King Charles.

Mr. Cromwell, how delightful to see you again.

Don't get up. Don't get up. Tell me, have you come far?

I have, sir.

From country squire to Lord Protector of England.

Fascinating, absolutely fascinating.

Tell me, what exactly does a lord protector do?

He spells your doom, sir.

He spells my doom? Wonderful! That's particularly exciting...

...because so many people these days can't spell at all.

Particularly in the inner cities, which is my area of interest.

Speak, sir. But all your fine words won't save you from the scaffold.

Jolly good! Fascinating! Carry on.

A priest, sir. To help you make your peace with God before you die.

- Oh, hello. - Your Majesty,

I've arranged for certain monies to be paid to allow you to escape.

Blackadder! You're dressed as a priest!

How dangerous and stupid...

...and perverted! It's just like school.

Sire, this is a matter of life and death.

Nonsense, Blackadder. I don't think any jury in England...

...would bring in a verdict of guilty against me.

Your Majesty, the verdict of the jury.

So, what does it say? Guilty or not guilty?

I'll give you two guesses.

Not guilty.

One more guess.

Oh, damn!

One measly civil war in the entire history of England,

and I'm on the wrong bloody side!

Something wrong, sir?

Yes, Baldrick. If the King dies, we royalists are doomed.

We will enter a hideous age of Puritanism.

They'll close all the theatres.

Lace handkerchiefs for men will be illegal.

And I won't be able to find a friendly face to sit on...

...this side of Boulogne.

If they so much as suspect our loyalties,

our property will be forfeit and we'll be for the chop.

Oh, I love chops.

Baldrick, your brain...

...is like the four-headed man-eating haddock fish beast of Aberdeen.

- In what way? - It doesn't exist.

- Oh, God. What will we do? - Don't despair, something'll pop up.

Not under Puritanism it won't.

We must do something.

We must do something, otherwise the Blackadders are as doomed as that ant.

What ant?

That one.

So this is the day of the execution of Charles I.

Absolutely not, Your Majesty. Those Roundhead traitors...

...have one final hurdle that they will never straddle.

Fascinating. What is that exactly?

They will never find a man to behead you.

They'd have hundreds of volunteers to execute Cromwell, he's so ugly.

He's got so many warts on his face...

...it's only when he sneezes that you find out which one is his nose.

But they'll never find a man to execute you.

Well, I find that absolutely tragic.

There are so many young people who would leap at a chance like this.

All they need is the initiative, somehow.

I suppose, in a sense, that's what my award scheme is all about.

- Really? - Yes.

On the other hand, of course, I don't want my head cut off.

- It's a question of balance, like... - Shut up! With respect Your Majesty.

They'll never find an executioner. And if they do,

may my conjugal dipstick turn into a tennis racket.

A message for the King.

# There's a tavern in the town... #

For God's sake, stop that Baldrick!

It's bad enough having one's life in ruins, without being serenaded...

...by a moron with all the entertainment value of a tap-dancing oyster.

I'm sorry, sir. I can't help it.

You see, I've just had a little windfall.

Baldrick, I've told you before, if you're going to do that, go into the garden.

No, I mean I've come into some money.

Really? Family inheritance?

No, I ate that ages ago.

Yes, of course. Your thoughtful father bequeathed you a turnip.

No, it was 50 pounds actually, it was delicious.

But this is just a little something that fell in my lap.