Mrs. Miggins quotes from Blackadder

Well, Mrs. Miggins, at last we can return to sanity. The hustings are over, the bunting is down, the mad hysteria is at an end. After the chaos of a general election, we can return to normal.

Mrs. Miggins

Has there been a general election, Mr. Blackadder?

Indeed there has, Mrs. Miggins.

Mrs. Miggins

I didn't hear of it.

Of course you didn't. You're not eligible to vote.

Mrs. Miggins

Why not?

Because virtually no one is - women...peasants... [gestures to Baldrick] Chimpanzees...lunatics...lords.

Baldrick

That's not true - Lord Nelson's got a vote.

He's got a boat, Baldrick. Marvelous thing, democracy. Look at Manchester - population: sixty-thousand, electoral roll: three.

Mrs. Miggins

I may have a brain the size of a sultana...

Correct.

Mrs. Miggins

...But it hardly seems fair to me.

Of course it's not fair, and a damn good thing too - give the like of Baldrick the vote and we'll be back to cavorting with druids, death by stoning and dung for dinner.

Baldrick

I'm having dung for dinner tonight.

Mrs. Miggins

So, who are they electing when they have these elections?

Oh, the same old shower. Fat Tory landowners who get made MPs when they reach a certain weight. Raving revolutionaries who think just because they do a day's work that somehow gives them the right to get paid. Basically, it's a right old mess: toffs at the top, plebs at the bottom and me in the middle making a fat pile of cash out of both of them.

Mrs. Miggins

You'd better watch out, Mr. Blackadder - things are bound to change.

Not while Pitt the Elder's Prime Minister, they aren't. He's about as effective as a cat flap in an elephant house. As long as his feet are warm and he gets a nice cup of milky tea in the sun before his morning nap, he doesn't bother anyone until his potty needs emptying.

O lovelorn ecstasy that i,s Mrs. Miggins, wilt thou bring me but one cup of the browned juicings of that naughty bean we call coffee, 'ere I die?

Mrs Miggins

Oh, you do have a way with words about you, Mr. Shelley!

To hell with this fine talk! Coffee, woman! My consumption grows ever more acute, and Coleridge's drugs are wearing off!

Mrs Miggins

Oh, Mr. Byron, don't be such a big girl's blouse!

Morning, Mrs. Miggins.

Mrs. Miggins

Bonjour, monsieur.

[disgusted] What?

Mrs. Miggins

Bonjour, monsieur. It's French.

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.

Mrs. Miggins

But French is all the fashion! My coffee shop is full of Frenchies, and it's all because of that wonderful Scarlet Pimpernel!

The Scarlet Pimpernel is not wonderful, Mrs Miggins. There is no reason whatsoever to admire someone for filling London with a bunch of garlic-chewing French toffs, crying "Oh-la-la" and looking for sympathy all the time just cos their fathers had their heads cut off. I'll have a cup of coffee, and some shepherd's pie.

Mrs. Miggins

Oh, we don't serve pies any more! My French clientèle consider pies uncouth.

I hardly think a nation that eats snails and would go to bed with the kitchen sink if it put on a tutu is in any position to preach couthness. So what is on the menu?

Mrs. Miggins

Well, today's hot choice is Chicken Pimpernel in a Scarlet Sauce, Scarlet Chicken in a Pimpernel Sauce, or Huge Suspicious-Looking Sausages in a Scarlet Pimpernel Sauce.

What exactly is Scarlet Pimpernel Sauce?

Mrs. Miggins

You take a large ripe frog, you squeeze it-

Yes, alright. Thank you. I'm off to the pub.

Ah, bonjour, monsieur.

Sod off. [leaves]

Mrs. Miggins, I'm looking for a couple of actors.

Mrs. Miggins

Well, you've come to the right place, Mr. B. There's more Shakespearean dialogue in here then there are buns. All my lovely actors pop in here on their way to rehearsals for a little cup of coffee and a big dollop of inspiration.

You mean they actually rehearse? I thought they just got drunk, stuck on a silly hat and trusted to luck.

Mrs. Miggins

Ooh, no! There's ever so much work that goes into the wonderful magic that is theatre today. Still, I wouldn't expect you to understand, being only a butler.

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.

Ladies and gentlemen, would you please welcome Mr. David Keanrick!

Mrs. Miggins

Oh, hurrah!

And the fabulous Enoch Mossop!

Mrs. Miggins

Gentlemen!

Ah, settle down. Settle down.

I'm sorry, no autographs.

The usual, Mrs. M.

Mrs. Miggins

Ooh, coming up, my lovelies!

If I could just squeeze through this admiring rabble. Gentlemen, I've come with a proposition.

How dare you, sir! You think, just because we're actors, we sleep with everyone!

I think, being actors, you're lucky to sleep with anyone. I come on behalf of my employer to ask for some elocution lessons.

I'm afraid that is impossible, sir. We are in the middle of rehearsing our new play. We cannot possibly upset our beloved audience by taking time off.

Mmm. Mustn't upset the punters. Bums on seat, laddie. Bums on seats.

And what play is this?

It is a piece we penned ourselves, called "The Bloody Murder of the Foul Prince Romero and his Enormous-Bosomed Wife".

A philosophical work, then?

Indeed yes, sir. The violence of the murder and the vastness of the bosom are entirely justified artistically.

Very well, I'll tell the prince you can't make it.

Prince?

Oh, did I forget to mention? It's the Prince Regent. Shame you can't make it. Still-

No, no, no, sir! Please! I do think we can find some time, do you not, Mr. Keanrick?

Definitely, Mr. Mossop.

Oh, but you've got your beloved audience to think about.

Oh, sod the proles. We'll come.

Yes. Worthless bastards to a man.

I'm glad to see artistic integrity thriving so strongly in the acting community. Well, this afternoon at four then, at the palace.

Baldrick

Sir, what about the danger? Look, the reward's going up day by day.

I laugh in the face of danger. I drop ice cubes down the vest of fear. Things couldn't be better, Baldrick. She'll get me abroad and make me rich, then I'll probably drop her and get two hundred concubines to share my bed.

Baldrick

Wouldn't they be rather prickly?

Concubines, Baldrick, not porcupines.

Baldrick

[annoyed] I still can't believe you're leaving me behind!

Oh, don't worry, when we've established our plantation in Barbados, I'll send for you. No more sad little London for you, Balders. From now on, you will stand out in life as an individual.

Baldrick

Will I?

Of course you will; all the other slaves will be black. [heads for the door]

Mrs. Miggins

[runs into Blackadder] Mr. Blackadder! What's this I hear about you buying a bathing costume and forty gallons of coconut oil? Are you going abroad, sir?

Yep, I'm off.

Mrs. Miggins

Oh, sir! What a tragic end to all my dreams! And I'd always hoped that you'd settle down and marry me, and that together we might await the slither of tiny adders!

Mrs. M, if we were the last three humans on Earth, I'd be trying to start a family with Baldrick.

Ah, Mrs. Miggins. Am I to gather from your look of pie-eyed exhaustion and the globules of porridge hanging off the walls that my cousin MacAdder has presented his credentials?

Mrs. Miggins

Ooo, yes indeed, sir. You just missed him.

I hope he's been practicing with his claymore.

Mrs. Miggins

Oh, I should say so! I'm as weary as a dog with no legs that's just climbed Ben Nevis.

A claymore is a sword, Mrs. Miggins.

Mrs. Miggins

See this intricate wood carving of the infant Samuel at prayer? He whittled that with the tip of his mighty weapon with his eyes closed.

[drily] Yes, exquisite.

Mrs. Miggins

He bade me bite down on a plank of wood. There was a whirlwind of steel and within a minute three men lay dead and I had a lovely new set of gnashers.

Really. Just tell him to meet me here at 5 o'clock to discuss an extremely cunning plan. If all goes well, by tomorrow the clan of MacAdder will be marching back on the high road back to glory.

Mrs. Miggins

Ooh, lovely. I'll do you a nice packed lunch.

So, tell me, cousin, I hear you have a cunning plan.

I do. I want you to take the place of the Prince Regent and kill the Duke of Wellington in a duel.

Aye, and what's in it for me?

Enough cash to buy the Outer Hebrides. What do you say?

Fourteen shillings and sixpence? Well, it's tempting, but I've got a 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 MacAdder!

Mrs. Miggins

And I shall wear the granite gown and limestone bodice of MacMiggins, Queen of all the herds!

For god's sake, MacAdder, you're not Rob Roy. If you kill the prince, much less the king, they'll just send the bailiffs around and arrest you.

Oh blast, I forgot the bailiffs.

So we can return to our original plan?

No, I'm not interested. I'd rather go to bed with the Loch Lomond Monster. Besides, I have to be back in the office on Friday. I promised Mr. MacNaulty I'd help shift a particularly difficult bloater for him. Forget the whole thing. I'm off home with Miggsy!

Mrs. Miggins

Yes! Show me the glen where the kipper roams free, and forget Morag forever!

No, never! Must do right by Morag. We must return to Scotland and you must fight her in the old Highland way - bare-breasted and each carrying an eight pound baby.

Mrs. Miggins

Yes, yes! I love babies! [kisses MacAdder on the cheek]

Aye, you're a woman of spirit. I look forward to burying you in the old Highland manner. Farewell, Blackadder, you spineless goon! [leaves]

Fortune vomits on my eiderdown one more.