Baldrick quotes from Blackadder

Baldrick

Something wrong, Mr. B?

Oh, something's always wrong, Balders. The fact that I'm not a millionaire aristocrat with the sexual capacity of a rutting rhino is a constant niggle! But today, something's even wronger: that globulous fraud, Dr. Johnson, is coming to tea.

Baldrick

I thought he was the cleverest man in England.

Baldrick, I'd bump into cleverer people at a lodge meeting of the Guild of Village Idiots.

Baldrick

That’s not what you said when you sent him your navel.

Novel, Baldrick, not navel. I sent him my novel.

Baldrick

Well, novel or navel, it sounds a bit like a bag of grapefruits to me.

The phrase, Baldrick, is “a case of sour grapes,” and yes, it bloody well is! I mean, he might at least have written back, but no, nothing! Not even a "Dear Gertrude Perkins, thank you for your book, get stuffed, Samuel Johnson"!

Baldrick

Gertrude Perkins?

Yes, I gave myself a female pseudonym. Everybody's doing it these days: Mrs. Radcliffe, Jane Austen...

Baldrick

What, Jane Austen's a man?!

Of course! A huge Yorkshireman with a beard like a rhododendron bush!

Baldrick

Oh, quite a small one, then?

Well, compared to Dorothy Wordsworth's, certainly. James Boswell is the only real woman writing at the moment, and that's just because she wants to get inside Johnson's britches.

Baldrick

Perhaps your book really isn't any good?

Oh, codswallop! It's taken me seven years, and it's perfect. Edmund: A Butler's Tale. A giant rollercoaster of a novel in 400 sizzling chapters. A searing indictment of domestic servitude in the eighteenth century, with some hot gypsies thrown in. My magnum opus, Baldrick. Everybody has one novel in them, and this is mine.

Baldrick

And this... [takes a small piece of paper out of his trousers] is mine. My "magnificent octopus".

[inspecting it] This is your novel, Baldrick?

Baldrick

Yeah, I can't stand long books.

[reading] "Once upon a time, there was a lovely little sausage called Baldrick, and it lived happily ever after."

Baldrick

It's semi-autobiographical.

And it's completely, utterly awful. Doctor Johnson will probably love it.

Baldrick, where's the manuscript?

Baldrick

You mean the big papery thing tied up with string?

Yes, Baldrick, the manuscript belonging to Doctor Johnson.

Baldrick

You mean the baity fellow in the black coat who just left?

Yes, Baldrick, Doctor Johnson.

Baldrick

So you're asking where the big papery thing tied up with string belong to the baity fellow in the black coat who just left is?

Yes, Baldrick, I am. And if you don't answer, then the booted boney thing with five toes on 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 Doctor Johnson's manuscript?

Baldrick

On the fire.

[shocked] On the what?

Baldrick

The hot orangey thing under the stoney mantlepiece.

[enraged] You've burnt the dictionary?!

Baldrick

Yup!

You've burnt the life's work of England's foremost man of letters?!

Baldrick

Well, you did say 'burn any old rubbish.'

[calmly remembers] Yes. Fine.

Isn't it, uh - isn't it going to be a bit difficult for me to patronize this book if we've burnt it?

[pause] Yes, it is, sir. But if you would excuse me a moment...

Of course, of course! Now that I've got my lovely fire, I'm as happy as a Frenchman who's invented a pair of self-removing trousers!

Baldrick, would you join me in the vestibule? [the pair leave the room, and he closes the doors behind him; immediately after doing so, he forcefully and firmly grabs Baldrick by the shoulders, and pushes him down the length of the hallway] We are going to go to Mrs. Miggins, we're going to find out where Dr. Johnson keeps a copy of that dictionary, and then you are going to steal it.

Baldrick

Me?

Yes, you.

Baldrick

Why me?

Because you burnt it, Baldrick!

Baldrick

But then I'll go to hell forever for stealing.

Baldrick, believe me: eternity in the company of Beelzebub and all his hellish instruments of death will be a picnic compared to five minutes with me... [produces a pencil from his coat]...and this pencil...if we can't replace this dictionary. Now, come on...

Sir, I have been unable to replace the dictionary. I am therefore leaving immediately for Nepal, where I intend to live as a goat.

Why?

Because if I stay here, Doctor Johnson and his companions will have me brutally murdered.

Good god, Blackadder, that's terrible! Do you know any other butlers?

Of course, when the people discover that you have burnt Doctor Johnson's dictionary, they may go around saying "Look, there's Thick George. He's got a brain the size of a weasel's wedding tackle."

Well, in that case, something must be done!

Baldrick

I have a cunning plan, sir.

Hurrah! Well, that's that, then.

I wouldn't get too excited, sir. I have a strong suspicion Baldrick's plan will be the stupidest thing we've heard since Lord Nelson's famous signal at the Battle of the Nile - "England knows Lady Hamilton is a virgin. Poke my eye out and cut off my arm if I'm wrong."

Great. Let's hear it.

Baldrick

It's brilliant. You take the string - that's still not completely burnt - you scrape off the soot, and you shove the pages in again.

Which pages?

Baldrick

Well, not the same ones, of course-

Yes, I think I'm on the verge of spotting the flaw in this plan. But do go on. Which pages?

Baldrick

Well, this is the brilliant bit - you write some new ones.

Some new ones. You mean rewrite the dictionary. I sit down tonight and rewrite the dictionary that took Doctor Johnson ten years.

Baldrick

Yup.

Baldrick, that is by far and away, and without a shadow of doubt, the worst and most contemptible plan in the history of the universe. On the other hand, I hear the sound of disemboweling cutlasses being sharpened, and it's the only plan we've got.

We didn't take no for an answer and have, in fact, been working all night. I've done 'B'.

Really? And how far have you gotten?

Well, I had a bit of trouble with 'belching', but I think I got it sorted out in the end. [burps] Oh no! There I go again! [laughs]

You've been working on that joke for some time, haven't you, sir?

Well, yes, as a matter of fact, I have.

Since you started?

Basically.

So, in fact, you haven't done any work at all?

Not as such.

Great. Baldrick, what have you done?

Baldrick

I've done 'C' and 'D'.

Right, let's have it then.

Baldrick

Right. "Big, blue wobbly thing that mermaids live in."

What's that?

Baldrick

'Sea'.

Yes. Tiny misunderstanding. Still, my hopes weren't high. What about 'D'?

Baldrick

I'm quite pleased with 'dog'.

Yes, and your definition of 'dog' is?

Baldrick

"Not a cat."

Excellent. Excellent! Your Highness, may I have a word?

Certainly.

As you know, sir, it has always been my intention to stay with you until you had a strapping son, and I one likewise to take over the burdens of my duties.

That's right, Blackadder, and I thank you for it.

But I'm afraid, sir, there's been a change in plans. I'm off to the kitchen to hack my head off with a big knife.

Oh, come on, Blackadder! It's only a book! Let's just damn the fellow's eyes, strip the britches from his backside and ward his heels to Putney Bridge! Hurrah!

Sir, these are not the days of Alfred the Great. You can't just lop someone's head off and blame it on the vikings.

Can't I, by god?

No.

Alright then, well, just get on with it! I mean, boil my brains, it's only a dictionary. No one's asked us to eat ten raw pigs for breakfast. Good lord, I mean, we're British, aren't we? [exits]

[sotto] You're not, you're German. Get me some coffee, Baldrick. If I fall asleep before Monday, we're doomed.

Ho, sir, bring out the dictionary at once!

Bring it out, sir, or in my passion, I shall kill everyone by giving them syphilis!

Bring it out, sir, and also any opium plants you have in there with you!

Bring it out, sir, or we shall break down the door!

Ah, good morning, Dr. Johnson, Lord Byron-

Where is my dictionary?

And what dictionary would this be?

[outraged] The one that has taken me eighteen hours of every day for the past ten years! My mother died, I hardly noticed. My father cut off his head and fried it in garlic in the hopes 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! I cared not!

[cornered] Am I to assume that my elaborate bluff has not worked?

Dictionary!

Right, well, the truth is - now, don't get cross, don't over-react - the truth is: we burnt it.

Then you die!

[enters with the same dictionary] Morning, everyone. Ah, Doctor Johnson. You know, this dictionary really is a cracking good read!

[relieved] My dictionary... [to Blackadder] But you said you burnt it!

Um...

I think it's a splendid book, and I look forward to patronizing it enormously!

Oh, thank you, sir. Well, I think I'm man enough to sacrifice the pleasure of killing to maintain the general good humour. There is to be no murder today, gentlemen. [they grumble] But retire to Mrs. Miggins'! I shall join you there later for a roister you shan't forget!

Hurrah! [leave]

So, tell me, what words particularly interested you?

Oh, nothing. Anything, really.

I see you've underlined a few. "Bloomers"? "Bottom"? "Burp"? [reads through the pages] "Fart"? "Fiddle"? "Fornicate"? Sir, I hope you are not using the first English dictionary to look up rude words!

I wouldn't be too hopeful. That's what all the others will be used for.

Baldrick

[to Blackadder] Sir, can I look up 'turnip'?

'Turnip' isn't a rude word, Baldrick.

Baldrick

It is if you sit on one.

Baldrick, fetch my novel.

Baldrick

Your novel?

Yes, Baldrick, the big papery thing tied up with string.

Baldrick

Like the thing we burnt?

Exactly like the thing we burnt.

Baldrick

So you're asking for the big papery thing tied up with string exactly like the thing we burnt?

Exactly.

Baldrick

We burnt it.

[calmly enraged] So we did. Thank you, Baldrick. Seven years of my life up in smoke. [to Prince George] Your Highness, may I be excused for a moment?

Oh, by all means.

[closes the doors behind him; outside] OH, GOD! NO!!! [calmly returns] Thank you, sir.

[reading Baldrick's 'novel'] "Once upon a time, there was a lovely little sausage called-" Sausage? Sausage?! Oh, blast your eyes! [crumples it up, throws it to the ground and storms out]

Baldrick

Oh, I didn't think it was that bad.

[checks the dictionary] I think you'll find he left 'sausage' out of his dictionary, Baldrick. [checks again] Oh, and 'aardvark'.

Baldrick

Sir! Poor little Mildred the cat, what's he ever done to you?

It is the way of the world, Baldrick - the abused always kick downwards. I am annoyed and so I kick the cat, the cat [there is a squeak] pounces on the mouse and, finally, [Baldrick squeals in pain] the mouse bites you on the behind.

Baldrick

And what do I do?

Nothing, you are last in God's great chain. Unless there's an earwig around here you'd like to victimize. My God, Baldrick - what's happened to your nose?

Baldrick

[sporting the most hideous purple blister] Nice, isn't it?

No, Baldrick. It isn't. It's revolting.

Baldrick

I'll take it off then. [rather unexpectedly, he simply peels off the blister]

Baldrick, why are you wearing a false boil? What are we to expect next? A beauty wart? A cosmetic veruca?

Baldrick

It's a Scarlet Pimple, sir.

Really?

Baldrick

They're all the rage down our way. Everyone wants to express their admiration for the great Pimple and his brilliant disguises.

What has this fellow done, apart from pop over to France to grab a few French nobs from the ineffectual clutches of a bunch of malnourished winging lefties, taking the opportunity while there, no doubt, to pick up some really good cheap wine and some of their marvelous open fruit flans?! Doesn't anyone know? We hate the French! We fight wars against them! Did all those men die in vain on the field of Agincourt? Was the man who burnt Joan of Arc simply wasting good matches? [a bell rings] Ah! His Royal Highness the Pinhead of Wales summons. And, you know. I feel almost well disposed towards him: utter chump though he may be, at least he's not French.

What a shame they were so busy. Would've been lovely to have had them with us.

Us?

Yes.

You're coming, sir?

Well, certainly!

Ah. And nothing I can say about the mind-bending horrors of the Revolution could put you off?

Absolutely not. Now come on, Blackadder. Let's get packing. I want to look my best for those fabulous French birds!

Sir, the type of women favoured in France at the moment are toothless old crones who cackle insanely.

Oh, ignore that. They're just playing hard to get.

By removing all their teeth, going mad and aging forty years?

That's right, the little teases. Now, come on. Um, I think a blend of silks and satins.

Sir, if we are to stand any chance of survival in France, we shall have to dress as the smelliest lowlifes imaginable.

What sort of thing?

Well, sir, let me show you our Paris collection - Baldrick is wearing a sheep's bladder jacket with matching dungball accessories. Hair by Crazy Meg of Bedlam Way. Notice how the overwhelming aroma of rotting pilchards has been woven cunningly into the ensemble. Baldrick, when did you last change your trousers?

Baldrick

[as if rehearsed] I have never changed my trousers.

Thank you, Baldrick. [To Prince George] 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".

Baldrick

They certainly can get a bit whiffy, there's no doubt about that.

We are told that, when the box was opened, the whole world turned to darkness and misfortune because of Pandora's fatal curiosity. [to Baldrick] I charge you now, Baldrick: for the good of all mankind, never allow curiosity to lead you to open your trousers. Nothing of interest lies therein. [To Prince George] However, Your Highness, it is trousers exactly like these that you will have to wear if we are to pass safely into France.

Yes, well...you know, on second thoughts, I might give this whole thing a miss. My tummy's acting up a bit. Wish I could come, but just not pos' with this tum.

I understand perfectly, sir.

Also, the chances of me scoring if I look and smell like him are zero.

Well, that's true, sir. We shall return presently to bid you farewell.

Baldrick

Mr. B, I've been having seconds thoughts about this trip to France.

Oh, why?

Baldrick

Well, as far as I can see, looking and smelling like this, there's not much chance of me scoring either.

Right, stick the kettle on, Baldrick.

Baldrick

Aren't we going to France?

Of course we're not going to France. It's incredibly dangerous!

Baldrick

Then how are you gonna win your bet?

As always, Baldrick, by the use of the large thing between my ears.

Baldrick

Oh, your nose.

No, Baldrick. My brain. All we have to do is lie low here for a week, go to Mrs. Miggins', pick up any old French aristocrat, drag him through a puddle, take him to the ball and claim our thousand guineas.

Baldrick

What if the prince finds us here?

He couldn't find his own fly buttons, let alone the kitchen door.

Not so fast, English. In rescuing this...boite de stinkyweed, you have attempted to pervert Revolutionary justice. Do you know what happens to people who do that?

They're given a little present and allowed to go free?

No.

They're smacked and told not to be naughty, but basically let off?

No.

Baldrick

I think I know.

What?

Baldrick

They're put in prison for the night and brutally guillotined in the morning.

Well done, Baldrick.

Your little g-nome is correct, Monsieur. Gentlemen, welcome to the last day of your life!

Baldrick

I'm glad to say I don't think you'll be needing those pills, Mr. B.

Am I jumping the gun, Baldrick, or are the words "I have a cunning plan" marching with ill-deserved confidence in the direction of this conversation?

Baldrick

They certainly are.

Well, forgive me if I don't jump and and down with glee. Your record in this department is not one hundred percent. So what's the plan?

Baldrick

We do nothing.

Yup, it's another world-beater.

Baldrick

I haven't finished. We do nothing until our heads have actually been cut off.

And then we spring into action?

Baldrick

Exactly. You know how, when you cut a chicken's head off, it runs 'round and 'round the farmyard?

Yes...

Baldrick

Well, we wait until our heads have been cut off, then we run 'round and 'round the farmyard, out the farm gate and escape. What do you think?

Yes, my opinion is rather difficult to express in words, so perhaps I can put it this way. [twists Baldrick's nose]

Baldrick

It doesn't really matter, 'cause the Scarlet Pimpernel will save us anyway.

No he won't, Baldrick! Either I think of an idea, or tomorrow we die. Which I have no intention of doing, because I want to be young and wild, then I want to be middle-aged and rich, then I want to be old and annoy people by pretending that I'm deaf.

Baldrick

You look smart, Mr. Blackadder. Going somewhere nice?

Nope, I'm off to the theatre.

Baldrick

Oh, don't you like it, then?

No, I don't! A load of stupid actors strutting around, shouting with their chests thrust out so far you'd think their nipples were attached to a pair of charging elephants. And the worst thing about it is having to go with Prince Minibrain.

Baldrick

Doesn't he like it either?

No, he loves it, but he doesn't realize it's made-up. Last year, when Brutus was about to kill Julius Caesar, the prince yelled out "Look behind you, Mr. Caesar!"

Baldrick

I can't see the point in the theatre. All that sex and violence. I get enough of that at home. Apart from the sex, obviously.

And while we're out, Baldrick, I want you to give this palace a good clean. It's so dirty, it would be unacceptable to a dung beetle that had lost interest in its career and really let itself go.

[from upstairs] Come on, Blackadder, or we'll miss the first act!

Coming, sir, as fast as I can! [puts his feet up] Stick the kettle on, Baldrick.

Baldrick

Something wrong, Mister B?

I've just about had it up to here with the prince! If he keeps this up, I'll be handing in my notice!

Baldrick

Ooh, does that mean I'll be butler?

Not unless some kindly passing surgeon cuts your head open with a spade and sticks a new brain in it. I don't know why I put up with it. I really don't. Every year at the Guild of Butlers Christmas party, I'm the one who has to wear the red nose and the pointy hat for winning the "Who's Got The Stupidest Master?" competition! All I can say is, he'd better watch out. One more foot wrong, and the contract between us will be as broken as this milk jug.

Baldrick

But that milk jug isn't broken.

You really do walk into these things, don't you, Baldrick? [smashes the milk jug over Baldrick's head]

Baldrick

Shall I get their supper, sir?

Yes. Preferably something that has first passed through the digestive system of the cat. And you'll have to take it up yourself.

Baldrick

Why?

Because I'm leaving, Baldrick. I'm about to enter the job market. [picks up the newspaper] Right, let's see...Situations Vacant. Mr. and Mrs. Pitt are looking for a baby minder to take Pitt the Younger to parliament. Some fellow called George Stephenson has invented a moving kettle and wants someone to help with the marketing. Oh, there's a foreign opportunity. "Treacherous, malicious, unprincipled cad, preferably non-smoker, wanted to be King of Sardinia. No time-wasters, please. Apply Napoleon Bonaparte, PO Box 1, Paris." Right, we're on our way!