Don't Lose Your Head (1967) - full transcript

♪ Don't lose your head ♪

♪ Don't lose your head when

you can't pay your taxes ♪

♪ Don't lose your head when

they're grinding their axes ♪

♪ Try to be calm when your

head's on the block ♪

♪ You may be in for

a nasty shock ♪

♪ Don't lose your head,

get a hold of your wig ♪

♪ Smile when the grave-digger

starts out to dig ♪

♪ Don't lose your head,

you'll get by in the end ♪

♪ Don't lose your

head, my friend ♪

♪ Don't lose your head when

they're screaming for blood ♪

♪ Don't lose your head, or

your name will be mud ♪

♪ You're asking for trouble

if you've no head ♪

♪ Because, when you wake

up, you'll be dead ♪

♪ Don't lose your head when

the world's at its worst ♪

♪ Don't lose your head when

the bubble has burst ♪

♪ Don't lose your head,

you'll get by in the end ♪

♪ Don't lose your

head, my friend ♪

♪ The Marseillaise ♪

♪ Don't lose your

head, my friend ♪

Paris. 1789. The Great

Revolution has begun.

The hands of the masses

are smeared with the

blood of the poor

bleeding aristocracy.

The tumbrels run a regular

half-hour service

between the Bastille and the many

guillotines around the city.

The growing mounds of noble heads

are only matched by the growing

mounds of unused return tickets.

No one is spared. Madame La

Guillotine claims them all.

Dukes and duchesses. Lords

and ladies. Men and women...

of both sexes.

A dozen times an hour.

The drums roll. The blade falls.

And the heads roll.

Yes, every five minutes,

a freshly sliced loaf.

And there. As always.

Grimly watching

the results of his

evil machinations,

keeping a watchful eye

out for queue-jumpers.

Stands the most dreaded

man in all France.

Robespierre's Chief of Secret

Police, Citizen Camembert.

Eurgh.

And beside him, as always, keeping

count of the grim harvest,

his number-one assistant,

the toadying Citizen Bidet.

I said heads, not

tails. The wretched

aristo's the wrong way round.

That Malabonce doesn't

know his head...

Never mind all that.

He'll have to Aller.

He'll have to go.

And the next one, please.

- What a carve-up.

- Disgusting.

What, sir?

That last one had terrible scurf.

Sterilise the blade.

- You can't be too careful.

- Oh, I agree, Citizen.

- Sir.

- Sorry. Citizen, sir.

That's better. What's

the tally for today?

Er... 26 head of aristo.

Ooh, that's very good.

Carry on chopping.

♪ Rule Britannia ♪

Meanwhile. Just across

the Channel. Far

removed from the awful

scene of carnage.

The cosy little homes of England

ring with merry,

carefree laughter,

and satisfied

after-dinner belches.

As the aristocracy,

oblivious of the horrors

facing their

counterparts in France,

continue with their normal and

fashionable country pursuits.

Hunting.

And, of course, shooting.

Not to mention the most

pleasurable of them all.

Fishing.

No one indulged in these pleasures

more diligently and energetically

than two of society's

most distinguished

and fashionable layabouts,

the powdered, bewigged,

beribboned, sir Rodney Ffing,

with two Fs,

and his inseparable

companion. Lord Darcy Pue.

- Good day, gentlemen.

- Good day? I suppose so.

It's all a monstrous bore.

What say you, Darcy, my dear?

- Definitely the same old round.

- Same old people.

- Same old girls.

- Same old tea parties.

- Same old concerts.

- Same old balls.

Henri, we regret to inform you,

we're bored with our appearances.

Exceeding bored.

This wig you gave me

is absolutely common.

Definitely below your

usual standard, Henri.

Please forgive me, but

I'm so upset by the

news I've received from

my beloved France.

- Your beloved who?

- France, my country.

Oh, I thought he meant a

person. A chap, a girl.

News? What news?

Why, the Revolution.

Revolution? What

does he mean, Darcy?

Some new form of vice, I imagine.

You know what they're like.

Oh, yes. Another bore.

No. Haven't you heard,

gentlemen? All the

French aristocracy are

losing their heads.

But that isn't news.

- By the guillotine.

- Oh.

Executed.

Oh. For what reason?

For no reason, except that

they are lords and ladies.

Ladies too? I say,

that isn't cricket.

Damnable waste, to boot.

It's madness, absolute madness.

And no one is lifting a finger

to help them. No one at all.

Please excuse me, sir Rodney.

I am so overcome.

Stab me sideways. Did you

hear that, Darcy, my dear?

They're chopping their heads off.

With no one lifting a

finger to help them.

- Disgraceful.

- Damned.

I say, Darcy, my dear. Do you

think that you and I might...

- lift a finger?

- Or two.

I say, that would be a good idea.

Wouldn't it just?

Darcy... to Paris.

And so started the rescue

operation that was

to utterly bewitch.

Bewilder and bedevil

Citizens Camembert and

Bidet. An operation

in which, sir Rodney

and Lord Darcy.

By means of a series of audacious

ruses and artful disguises,

snatched the victims

from the very steps

of Madame La Guillotine.

He always leaves one of

these behind, Camembert?

Yes, Citizen Robespierre.

Well, what is it? What's

it supposed to be?

From inquiries I've

made, I gather it's a

sign used in England

to convey contempt.

England?

Yes. Many of them have it on their

coats of arms. Two

digits, rampant.

Then what you're trying to say is

that this... What

did you call him?

The Black Fingernail, for want of

a better name. One nail is black.

Yes, yes, yes. Is he one of

the British aristocracy?

Oh, undoubtedly.

I spit on them.

So do I.

Oh, I beg your pardon.

He must be stopped, Camembert.

Don't worry, Citizen.

I'll get him next time.

Well, you'd better.

The Duc de Pommfrit goes to

the guillotine tomorrow,

as a prominent leader

of the Royalists.

I said "Royalists," Camembert.

Oh, yes, of course.

That's better. Now,

as I was saying,

if the Duc de Pommfrit should

escape, it would be disastrous.

Don't worry, Citizen.

I'll have the guillotine

inspected and put extra

soldiers on duty.

By this time tomorrow, the Duc of

Pommfrit will have had his chips.

Whoa. Here we are, then, Citizens.

This is it. Working models of the

guillotine. Only five francs each.

Complete with six aristos,

with fully detachable heads.

Ha-ha. Take one home

to the kids tonight.

Play with it yourself and watch

it fall off in your hands.

Right. Here we are. Five francs.

- Good old Darcy.

- That's right. Lovely.

Come on, Bidet. Come

on. Let's get started.

Certainly, Citizen, sir.

Le Duc de Pommfrit.

Le Duc de Pommfrit.

Le Duc de Pommfrit.

Le Duc de Pommfrit.

That's him. Get ready.

Well, don't just stand

there, man. Go and get him.

Yes, all right.

Clear the way. Clear the

way there. Get out of it.

Pommfrit.

Pommfrit, we're waiting for you.

Oh, hello.

I shan't be long. I'm

on the last chapter.

This is good, you know.

Put that book down.

Oh, I couldn't possibly do that.

This is the latest

Marquis de Sade.

Oh.

Come on.

Take your filthy hands

off me, peasant.

Peasant, am I? Let me tell you

that my blood's as good as yours.

Nonsense. Everyone knows your

father was a basket-maker.

Aha. That's where

you're wrong, see?

Nobody knows who my father

was. Not even my mother.

You'll laugh on the other side of

your face when your

head comes off.

Thank you. I'm quite capable

of making my own way.

Your Grace, there's an

urgent letter for you.

Drop it in the basket.

I'll read it later.

Short back and sides. Not

too much off the top.

One has to admire his courage.

These aristos are all the

same. Anything for a giggle.

Hold it. The Duc de Pommfrit?

Oh, hello.

I'm sorry to bother you

at a time like this.

Quite all right. It

happens to all of us.

- A pinch?

- Thank you, no.

I represent Lloyd's of London.

Could I interest you

in life insurance?

No. Not today.

It's a very good policy. It covers

accidental death by

drowning, shooting,

stabbing, poisoning, hanging...

Beheading?

No. We can't take too many risks.

What's going on here?

You, sir, how dare you

obstruct the course of

justice in this way.

All right. I'm only

trying to make a living.

A living?

- Are you fully covered?

- I hope so.

Come on. Get off. Come on. Go. Go.

Terribly sorry to keep

you waiting, Your Grace.

That's all very well, but it would

never have happened

under a monarchy.

There's no need to make a

political issue out of it.

Carry on, Malabonce.

Now what's the matter?

I dunno. It worked all

right this morning.

Excuse me, but isn't the rope

caught up at the top there?

No, it isn't, and mind

your own business.

I was only trying to help.

We're quite capable of

managing, thank you.

Well, I wish you'd

hurry up. I'm getting

a shocking pain in

the neck down here.

I assure you, my dear Duke,

that once we get this working,

you'll be the first

to know about it.

Excuse me. I think I can see

what the trouble is here.

- What do you know about it?

- Plenty. Take that blade up.

I'm sorry to bother you,

but could you step out?

Oh, really. Just as I was

getting comfortable.

Aha.

I thought so. Who made this thing?

I did.

I approved the design, of course.

Well, you didn't do

a very good job.

One of these runners has a kink.

Yes. You have got a kinky runner.

I ain't got a kinky runner.

See for yourself.

I don't see no kink.

Oh, it's there, all

right. It'll never work.

Of course it will.

Won't it, Malabonce?

Of course. Course.

- Do you want a bet?

- Yes. 100 francs.

- You're on.

- Right.

We'll show him, won't

we, Malabonce?

Yeah, yeah. We'll show him.

Mon Dieu.

Dear, oh, dear. I

owe you 100 francs.

What have I done? Is there

a doctor in the house?

You have no right to

get up... Guards.

Guards. Protect my

person. Get 'em off.

I'm a faithful servant

of the Republic.

You have no right.

- Thank you.

- My pleasure.

Get 'em off. Down. Down.

Help. Help. Guards. Guards.

Protect my person.

Guards. Guards.

You have no right.

I'm Camembert. I'm the big cheese.

Get off.

I'm a member of the Government.

You have no right.

It's all the fault of

that insurance salesman.

Where is he? Where's he gone?

I'll have his head for this.

He's gone. So has the

Duc de Pommfrit.

What? Aargh.

- What is it, Citizen, sir?

- The Black Fingernail.

It seems that the English

have struck again.

Yes, Citizen Robespierre,

but then, they say it's

the one thing the English

are good at, striking.

- I'm not amused.

- Neither am I.

So, Citizen Head of

Secret Police Camembert,

the so-called Black Fingernail

has fooled you again.

Oh, I wouldn't say that, Citizen.

- Oh, you wouldn't?

- No.

This is his calling

card. It was found

on the guillotine this afternoon.

Yes, that's true,

but he didn't fool

me. Oh, no, not for one minute.

He didn't? Perhaps I've

got the story wrong.

He posed as an insurance

salesman. Correct?

Yes.

- He abducted the Duc de Pommfrit?

- Yes.

And tricked you into

executing Malabonce?

Yes.

And he didn't fool

you for one minute?

I knew who he was. I wanted

to see how far he would go.

Mon blooming Dieu.

He couldn't have gone very

much further, could he?

I don't know. We've still

got the guillotine.

Now, listen, Camembert.

I want this Fingernail caught.

Do you understand me?

Yes, Citizen, but the

trouble is, I don't

know what he looks

like. Nobody does.

Then find out, or nobody will

know what you look like.

Oh, everyone always recognises me.

Without a head?

Now, get out of

here, and find him.

Yes, Citizen. I'll do my

best, but it won't be easy.

The Fingernail is a master of

disguise. He could be anyone.

Get out.

Get out.

Come, now, girl. Admit it. You're

a cursed aristo, aren't you?

Come, come. We secret police

have ways of making people talk.

Shall we use the thumbscrews?

Not till Citizen

Camembert gets here.

If there's screwing to

be done, he'll do it.

He's screwed up the

Revolution already.

Ah, Bidet.

All roads and other exits out

of the city are guarded?

Oh, yes, definitely,

sir. This woman here...

- Bridges are securely held?

- I haven't asked her, sir.

I said bridges, not britches.

Oh, yes. Yes, sir.

Good. This accursed Fingernail

must be caught this time.

If only we knew what

he looked like.

Don't worry. I've given orders

to hold anyone disguised...

as anyone.

That'll be a lot

of help, won't it?

Who's this woman?

What's she doing here?

I was about to tell you, Citizen,

sir. She was out after curfew.

Well, nothing wrong with a bit

of after-curfew, my dear?

But you shouldn't be

out late, you know.

You're a naughty girl, aren't you?

Yes.

And I bet you've done

it before, haven't you?

Oh, yes.

Well, I don't think we need detain

you any longer. You

can go home now.

Thank you. You're very kind.

Just a moment.

You'd better let me

have your address.

I'll be along later

to erm... check up.

Thank you.

Nice little... citizen thing?

You're not letting her go, sir?

Of course I'm letting

her go, Bidet.

I think you're making

a great mistake.

You should get the chance to make

such a mistake, Citizen Bidet.

But she's probably an aristo.

Have you ever known a

lady who needed a shave?

- A shave, sir?

- Yes.

When she kissed me just now, I

distinctly felt her stubble.

Really?

And not only that. She

positively reeked of tobacco.

Well, perhaps you're

right, Citizen, sir.

Of course I'm right,

Citizen Bidet. Aha-ha.

Make a note of these things, and

we'll make a policeman of you yet.

Well, I must be off now.

Business, you know.

Let me know immediately

of any developments.

Yes, Citizen, sir.

Where will you be?

At this address... Aaargh.

What is it?

It was him. The Black Fingernail.

Really? Aaargh.

No wonder she reeked of tobacco.

He kissed me.

Don't worry, Citizen, sir. It

was a marvellous disguise.

It would have fooled me.

He did fool you, didn't he?

What?

You had him here, and you

let him go, didn't you?

- I did, Citizen, sir?

- Yes, you did, Citizen nit.

Ooh.

Oh, you great whey face, you. You.

Oh. I've just remembered...

what I was about to

try and do with him.

- He can't have got very far.

- No, and neither could I.

I mean out of the

city. If we're quick,

perhaps we can catch her... him.

Yes, that's right.

Yes, he'll make for

Calais, if he can get

past the roadblocks.

Coachman.

- Coachman.

- Did you call, Citizen?

Yes. Prepare my coach. We

leave at once for Calais.

Right, Citizen.

To Calais, as quick as you can.

Wait for me. You

stupid great fool.

Pick your hat up.

You're supposed to make

way for a superior

citizen, you know.

Go to Calais.

Halt. Who goes there?

Citizen Camembert.

Listen. Has anyone passed

out within the hour?

Only the sergeant. He's

sleeping it off now.

I'm looking for a woman.

Oh, nothing doing out here, chum.

You want to try Montmartre.

I don't mean that.

Oh, how I loathe these peasants.

Give me the aristocracy any time.

Has anyone passed through

here this evening?

No, not as far as I know, Citizen.

Well, you keep a sharp

lookout. Mind my hat.

Keep a lookout for an Englishman,

a woman and the Duc de Pommfrit,

probably all disguised.

- What as?

- Well, how should I know?

There'd be no point in the

disguise if I knew what it was.

Oh, open the barrier.

Coachman. Calais, with all speed.

With pleasure, Citizen.

- Aaargh.

- I'm sorry.

Fool.

Wait here, Coachman. The

rest of you, follow me.

Sorry, Citizens. You're too late.

I've already called temps.

Kerb your insolent tongue, wench.

You're talking to

Citizen Camembert,

head of the Secret Police

of the glorious Republic.

Long live equality. Long

live fraternity. Cheers...

Oh, shut up. I wish you wouldn't

keep viving all over the place.

Now, listen to me,

woman. Have you had

any men in here

disguised as women?

I should say not. What sort of

place do you think this is?

We are looking for a

man who's trying to

flee the country

disguised as a woman.

Well, there's nobody here except

me, and I'm just going off.

- She's gone off, if you ask me.

- She's gone off...

Wait. She could be him.

She's got the right build.

Leave it to me, Citizen, sir.

All right, woman.

- Give us a kiss.

- Oh. Aargh.

Stop messing about.

- Well?

- No beard.

Come along, then. We'll try

the harbour. Come along.

And let that be a

lesson to you, woman.

Oi, blackhead.

Look. The horse has gone.

The Black Fingernail.

I don't believe it. The

horse? He couldn't have been.

Duc? Come on, Duc. Come on.

- Search everywhere.

- Here they come.

- They can't be far away.

- We'll never get to the boat now.

Don't worry about it. Just

give me your hat and coat.

Quick.

Hello.

A thousand francs

for the first man

who takes the Fingernail alive.

A thousand francs? Ho-ho.

I don't know where

he's getting it from.

I'll keep them busy.

Meet you at the boat.

Yoo-hoo.

- It's me.

- 'Tis he.

- After he.

- After who?

- After him.

- After you.

Yoo-hoo.

Can't catch me.

Bolt the doors. He's

in here somewhere.

Zounds. 'Tis a woman.

And what a cracker.

What means this

intrusion, Monsieur?

How handsome he is. And

every inch a gentleman.

I mean you no harm.

Opportunity would be a fine thing.

Please... leave at once.

If he does, I shall surely

swoon with disappointment.

Alas, I cannot.

Just look how that

pretty bosom heaves.

Pray, why not?

Oh, why does my pretty

bosom heave so?

The Secret Police are after me.

What's this pounding in my ear

holes? Could I be in love?

The Secret Police? But why?

Oh, my fluttering heart.

Can it be I love him?

They seek me because... I

am the Black Fingernail.

The Black Fingernail?

My hero in person.

I must love her, or I

wouldn't have told her that.

I, and all France, are

in your debt, Monsieur.

I salute you.

Now, that's what I call a salute.

I would do anything for you.

Your wish is my command, and

your desire is my desire.

Really?

Methinks, if I play

my cards right,

I might be onto a good thing.

Open, in the name of

Citizen Camembert

and the glorious new

French Republic.

Long live equality, live

fraternity, live...

Oh, shut up. Open up. We

wish to search the room.

One moment.

You must flee.

Open up in there.

Go quickly, my dearest love.

I will return. Here.

Take this, as a token

of my undying love.

What a beautiful locket.

My mother's. It contains

her last set of teeth.

Thank you. I will think of

you every time I clean them.

Open. Open.

Oh, go, man, go.

Till we meet again.

Ooh. Go on. Giddup.

Go on. Go on.

Oh. I'll have another go.

- Show your authority. Man.

- I can't.

- Show your authority.

- My trousers...

Bidet. I warn you...

Open. Open.

Stand aside, sir. I'll

open it this time.

There he is. Seize him.

So, the accursed Fingernail

is in our hands at last.

It would seem so, Monsieur.

Oh, no, all your disguises and

funny voices won't help you now.

Take him below, and

get fresh horses.

We leave for Paris immediately.

And Bid... Bidet? Where is he?

And this, you claim, is

the Black Fingernail?

Yes, Citizen Robespierre.

Er... but this is a woman.

Oh, yes.

He may look like a woman, but the

Fingernail is a

master of deception.

Just because he rode all the

way from Calais side-saddle...

All right, Citizen

Camembert. If you

insist this is a man, prove it.

- Me? But how?

- How? How, he asks.

Call yourself a Frenchman?

- If I might make a suggestion.

- Well, what is it?

I have an infallible method for

finding out the true sex, sir.

- Yes?

- Yes, sir. Sooner or later, sir,

he or she will want to go

and powder his or her nose.

Right, sir. When that time comes,

we merely put him

or her in a place

that has two cloakrooms.

Ladies and gents.

Then we secretly observe which

one he or she goes into.

Citizen Bidet, I really

must commend you.

Any time, Citizen.

If I chopped off your head,

you'd still have as much

brains as you have now.

Thank you, sir.

I'll show you what sex she is.

There. Have either of you ever

seen a man looking like that?

Well, it's marvellous what

you can do with padding.

If I could just have

a bit of a prod...

No, you cannot have a bit of

a prod. Imbecile. Admit it.

This Fingernail has made a

monkey out of you again.

All right, girl. Tell

me. Where is he?

Out of your reach.

Safe back in England.

It should be quite obvious

to you now, Camembert.

She and this Fingernail have

been in collusion together.

Oh, no, Citizen. I

don't think they

had time for anything like that.

Take her away. And make her talk.

And get me this Fingernail.

Yes, Citizen, but

it won't be easy,

if he's gone back to England.

Then go to England. Find him.

Unfrock this master of deception.

But what if I fail?

Then don't bother to

get your hair cut.

Go to England? What for?

I told you. To find this

accursed Black Fingernail.

Well, what's going

to happen to me?

What do you mean, happen to you?

Well, you're my protector.

Who'll protect me?

I can't think about

things like that now.

I'm in danger of watching

my own head roll.

It wouldn't roll far.

It's too square.

I wish you wouldn't

do that. When you

undress, it's like

emptying a dustbin.

Well, why don't you buy

me a waste basket, then?

That's all I've ever really wanted

out of life-the simple things.

I'd like to marry a nice

man with a fortune...

and a château... and a title.

Then why don't you go and

marry someone with a title?

How can I? You keep slicing

their blooming heads off.

Who's that?

Oh, it's you.

Sorry to disturb you, Citizen,

sir. I mean, you did say, if it

was anything important...

Evening, Citizen miss.

- Well?

- Very nice. Very nice indeed.

Well, don't just stand

there, man. Get it out.

- Get it out.

- Get what out?

Whatever it was that

was so important.

It's about the girl.

It's like you said, sir.

I spent half the night working

to get information out of her.

- And what did you find out?

- Nothing.

Nothing? Nothing at all?

No. She kept mum.

Never mind her financial

arrangements with her mother.

What about the Fingernail?

Oh, well, there was this silver

locket. It appears

he gave it to her.

- With a lock of his hair?

- No, a set of his teeth.

A set of... A set of his teeth?

Fancy keeping your teeth in

a silver locket. I ask you.

Isn't that typical of

these damned aristocrats?

A glass of water

isn't good enough.

Mind you, sir, it'll

help us to find him.

All we've got to do is

to look for a man...

who talks like that.

A man who talks like

that? That's no good.

You know these plutocrats. He's

probably got a second set.

What are you gawping at?

Er... I come from a

poor family, miss.

We couldn't afford

luxuries like you.

Just a crust of bread and...

an occasional bit of crackling.

Cammie, I'd be very much obliged

if you'd ask this underling to

take his hot, sticky eyes off me.

Underling? There'll be

no more of that talk.

In our glorious Republic,

all are equal.

Equality, fraternity...

and liberty.

I don't care about

the equalities and

fraternities, but I am not

having the liberties.

Quiet, you two. I've

got it. I've got it.

Well, you didn't get it off me.

This girl, she is the bait

with which we set the trap.

The Fingernail must

be in love with her.

- But how do you know?

- My dear Bidet,

gentlemen don't go giving

lockets with their

teeth in them to every

casual acquaintance.

Oh, the English are a queer lot.

Be that as it may, once we let him

know we have this girl a prisoner,

he will hasten back

to France to rescue

her, and then...

he's in your trap.

Then what?

- Shut your trap.

- I only asked.

But how can we let him know

the girl's a prisoner,

if we don't know who he is?

We'll find out. We leave

for England immediately.

Now, there's a packet leaving

at dawn from Calais.

Oh, no, Citizen.

It's too dangerous.

It won't be the first time

I've caught a packet.

I mean, to go to England. You know

what they think of you over there.

Yes, he's right. Only aristos

are welcome there now.

Then we shall be aristos. Hurry

up, Bidet. Order my coach.

- Yes, sir.

- And don't forget my bag.

Not that one, you fool. I

mean my travelling bag.

Oh, I don't know,

though. We'll need

something to do on the journey.

Oh, excuse me.

♪ Slow music ♪

Ah, sir Rodney. I must

congratulate you.

A perfectly splendid charity ball.

Thank you, Lady Binder.

Now, do tell me. What

is it all in aid of?

SFA.

Oh, come. It must be

in aid of something.

SFA. Stranded French Aristocrats.

Oh, of course. A

very worthy cause.

And you've done

them proud tonight.

But then, you've

always had magnificent

balls, and I wouldn't

miss one of them.

Thank you, Lady Binder.

Darcy, I've been waiting for

you. What news from France?

Nothing yet. We have

agents making inquiries,

but the girl seems

to have disappeared.

I've got to find her,

Darcy. Did you tell them

they'd recognise her

by my mother's teeth?

Yes. It's very difficult looking

in every girl's mouth, you know.

Not in the mouth, you fool.

In the locket round her neck.

Isn't it marvellous?

No wonder they haven't

traced her. I'll have

to go over myself.

I wouldn't, if I were you.

There's a price on your head.

Oh, and a couple

calling themselves the

Duke and Duchess de

la Plume de Ma Tante

arrived in London from

France yesterday.

Escaped?

- Without our help?

- Exactly.

There is something fishy

going on, so I took

the liberty of inviting

them here tonight.

Good lad. It'll give us a

chance to... quiz them?

Oh, thank you.

Come along. What's

the matter with you?

It's these humpback

bridges. I shan't

be able to sit down for a week.

Oh, don't be so vulgar. You're

supposed to be an aristocrat.

Don't they have bottoms, then?

Of course, but down here

they're called country seats.

And what do they

call them in London?

The London derrière.

Well, I won't be putting my

derrière on a country seat.

Come on.

Welcome to Ffing House, my dears.

I'm, sir Rodney Ffing. Two Fs.

Ah, sir Rodney.

I am Count Henri de la

Plume de Ma Tante. One P.

Delighted, my dear. Methinks

we have met before.

Oh, methinks not. Er... this is

my sister, the Countess Désirée.

Charmed to make your acquaintance.

Likewise, I'm sure.

Grace and beauty.

You're a picture,

Mademoiselle... if a

trifle overexposed.

You'll forgive this

intrusion, sir Rodney,

but after we heard

about your ball...

Think not of it.

My house is yours.

You're very kind.

And now you must make up for lost

time. You've got a little behind.

Oh, fancy you noticing.

So, you've just

escaped from France?

Yes, by fishing boat.

Oh, yes. I thought that

perfume wasn't from Paris.

We're anxious to make the

acquaintance of the

Black Fingernail.

- The what?

- The Black Fingernail,

that gallant gentleman

who's been helping

so many of my dear

compatriots to escape.

- Oh, yes, that big show-off.

- You know him, then?

Heavens, no. I have no stomach

for the manly, virile type.

Now, excuse me. My card

is marked for this dance.

Perhaps the Countess

will honour me later.

Delighted... if someone

will mark my card.

I will, Countess. Don't worry.

Do you think that's

the Black Fingernail?

What, that Ffing? Don't be silly.

Well, he seems very nice,

and he's got a title.

Yes, I'm sure, and it's not one

you use in polite society.

Well... what do we do now, sir?

Circulate. Try and

pick up anything that

might lead us to the

Black Fingernail.

Circulate? Right, sir.

But remember, you

must be circumspect.

Oh, I was, sir, when I was a baby.

♪ Lively music ♪

Excuse me, my dear. May I cut in?

- Of course, Rodney, darling.

- Thank you, my dear.

Your friend, the Duc de

la Plume de My Aunt.

What about him?

He's the living

image of Camembert.

What, the leader of

the Secret Police?

- The big cheese himself.

- Well, what's he doing over here?

Act naturally.

Oh, hark at me.

You needn't request an

audience. You've got one.

I can't help it. These bubbles

get lodged in my chest.

There's room for a

few lodgers there.

- Psst.

- What?

Psst.

Don't be ridiculous.

I've only had a couple.

No, no, no. I think I've

got a lead. Over there.

The Duc de Pommfrit.

Do go on with your story,

Duke. It's so thrilling.

Oh, yes. There I was, face

down on the guillotine,

with a basket full of dirty

great heads staring up at me.

I wonder what happens

to all the heads.

Oh, my dear, they have a special

place for them: the napper's yard.

Do go on with your story, Duke.

Well, the drum roll stopped, and

everything went extremely hush.

The executioner pulled the

handle, and the knife came down,

and bounced off the

back of my neck.

Bounced off the back of your neck?

Yes. I had 'em fooled.

I was wearing a hard collar.

Well. Before they had time

to recover themselves.

I leapt to my feet, I seized the

sword, and I laid into them.

Take that. Take that.

Take this. Take that.

And I must say, they

took it very well.

- How many did you kill?

- Oh, six, seven.

Six or seven? What a bloody

sight it must have been.

Oh, it could have been

a bloody sight more.

But what of the Black Fingernail?

- Was it not he who saved you?

- Him? Oh, no, my dear.

He was around, but

I didn't need him.

Did you hear that, sir?

What a load of bull.

All men talk nonsense

in their cups,

Bidet. It's what we

call "coq au vin".

But I bet he knows who

the Black Fingernail is.

I say. Would any of

you young ladies care

to join me for a

stroll in the garden?

I know a nice, quiet little nook.

Not the nooky types,

obviously. Oh, well.

Follow him, Désirée. See

what you can learn.

Why me?

Because you are a woman, and women

can do things to... disarm a man.

By the looks of him,

he isn't even armed.

- Do as I say.

- Oh, all right.

But I warn you, one

hint of the old

whatsit, and I'm turning it in.

Follow her, Bidet.

Watch what she does.

Why? Don't you trust her?

Not all are as loyal to me as

you are, my faithful Bidet.

Thank you, sir.

I wish I had someone

to follow him.

That's him there,

the one who looks

like he's smelling

something nasty.

What do you think?

Difficult to tell

with that wig on.

Yes, if we could think of

some way of getting it off...

like a nice, juicy sneeze.

Ah, sir Rodney.

All alone? Where's

your gorgeous sister?

They just popped out.

That sort of thing is bound to

happen with those low-cut gowns.

You do take snuff?

The taking of snuff is a vice of

the degenerate aristocracy...

And I love it.

Well, you'll go mad about

this one. It's very special.

Rather mild for my taste, I fancy.

AAA-choo.

My wig. Where's my wig? Oh.

Excuse me, madam.

That's my wig, I think.

Yes, that's more like it...

Oh... Well, perhaps not.

Oh... excuse me,

but I seem to have

dropped my handkerchief somewhere.

Oh, it was yours, was it?

I did see it somewhere.

Oh, don't bother, really. I...

- What is it?

- I feel a little wan.

Oh, dear. Then perhaps

you'd better sit down.

How kind you are.

Is there somewhere we can

be quiet and undisturbed?

Oh, rather. There is a

beautiful spot in the arbour.

Oh, really? I had no idea

we were so near the sea.

Come.

What a quaint little place.

It is called a "love pavilion".

Oh. Really? I wonder why.

Yes, so do I. This

marble seat's enough

to cool anyone's

ardour. However...

Why, sir, what are you doing?

Mademoiselle, may I

say you are the most

ravishingly beautiful

woman I have ever seen?

Am I really? Oh, no, sir,

you mustn't. I do insist.

Here, knock it off.

What's wrong?

Well, there is something

I want from you.

Oh, well, that's all

right, then. As

long as we're both

on the same lines.

No, no, sir. Besides, I insist

we have a little talk first.

Oh, very well, then. What about?

I believe you know who

the Black Fingernail is.

Yes. Well, I enjoyed that

little chat. Now, then...

I haven't finished

yet. Besides, my

brother, the Count,

wishes to meet him.

I'm afraid that is impossible.

You see, I promised never

to reveal his identity.

Not even to please me?

Not even to please you.

Not even if I were to please you?

Not even if you were to...

Oh, that's different.

I say. How pleasing do

you think you can get?

As pleasing as...

that, for example.

A few more examples like that,

and you can please yourself.

- Come here, you little vixen.

- Oh, get off. Stop it.

I can't stop it. My blood's on

fire, my heart's on fire...

Yes, and your hands

are groping. Get off.

Long Live Love. Down

with everything.

Darcy, you must be more

careful where you sneeze.

You quite upset

Monsieur Camembert.

What's that? What did you call me?

You called me Monsieur

Camembert. Why?

Oh, do forgive me. A

slip of the tongue.

But you do look like

a chappie of that

name we met in Paris.

You remember, Darcy?

Oh, yes, a weaselly-faced

little runt

who tried to sell us

those funny postcards.

Of course, it couldn't

be you, could it, Count?

Do I look like a man who

sells funny postcards?

Not a bit. You look more like the

chappie on the funny postcards.

I hardly think that's possible.

That's what I said when

I saw the postcards.

Forgive me, gentlemen. I find

this conversation rather boring.

Well, then, let's

change it, Count.

Did you have any luck

finding that chappie?

What did you call

him? The Big Toenail?

The Black Fingernail.

Ah, yes, of course.

Aren't I a silly Ffing?

Er... excuse me. My secretary

wishes to speak to me.

Well?

She's with him, Pommfrit,

in the garden.

- Excellent. Is she getting it?

- Not half.

What do you mean?

- Had what off?

- His gloves.

Bad news, my dear Count?

On the contrary. I

fancy my quest for the

Black Fingernail will

soon be at an end.

He... Oh.

Never again. Next time you want

information, get it yourself.

Was it a distressing experience?

Distressing? Talk about wandering

hands. He could write

a travel book.

Well, never mind. Did you get

the information I wanted?

Oh, yes, he knows who the Black

Fingernail is, all right.

Oh, there you are.

Oh, hello, Duke.

Naughty little girl.

Running off like that,

just when my resistance

was weakening.

Oh, this is my brother, the one

what I was talking to you about.

- How do you do?

- Delighted.

My sister says you have

some information for me.

Oh, you must be the one who's

looking for the Black Fingernail.

- Yes, I am.

- There you are.

Oh, why can't we go home? I'm

fed up with this country.

They all want you to talk

about their parents.

What do you mean?

I've had dozens of

men say to me, "What

about a bit of how's-your-father?"

Well, what else can you expect

from a bunch of beef-eaters?

Why don't they eat frogs' legs and

snails, like normal people do?

Oh, the English have

always been backward.

Do you know, they're still taking

people's heads off by hand.

Ow.

Doesn't surprise me.

People who keep false

teeth in lockets are

capable of anything.

The locket. I almost

forgot. We may

trap the Fingernail

yet. Put this on.

Oh, not that horrible thing.

It's got false teeth in it.

Oh, it's all right.

They won't bite you.

Oh, all right.

When you go back in the

ballroom, make sure you

dance with every man

there, if you have to,

and also make sure he gets

a good look... at that.

They always do.

- I mean the locket.

- Oh.

Go on, then. And don't

forget, keep flashing it.

Watch her, Bidet, and report to me

if anyone recognises the locket.

Oh, yes, sir.

♪ Slow music ♪

- I see you're admiring my locket.

- What locket?

Aha.

Excuse me.

- Pretty, isn't it?

- Magnificent.

Here, have a good

look. That better?

Yes, thank you. It was

rather in the way.

Oh. Excuse me.

♪ Jaunty music ♪

Erm... excuse me, but

erm... that locket.

Yes? What about it?

Would you mind taking it off?

It keeps bashing me in the face.

Really, sir Rodney.

This chain round your

neck... may I pull it?

Please do.

- Where did you get that?

- You recognise it?

Yes, it was mine. I gave it to...

Yes?

- I must talk to you alone.

- Where?

In the arbour in five minutes.

Oh.

You didn't tell anyone

about our assignation?

I didn't even tell

'em we was meeting.

Clever girl.

Oh, sir... you mustn't.

I must say it, though.

I must confess,

his kiss kindles a flame in me.

I simply cannot help it.

I'm absolutely enamoured of you.

I've got to say it, even if

she does get on my wick.

And I of you, from the

first moment we met.

Oh, how can I betray

him to Cammie?

This is a bit of luck. I can find

out where she got that locket.

My little poodle.

I never knew that

Englishmen could love

so. Hold me close

again, I pray you.

I care not if you are

the Black Fingernail,

- and an enemy of France.

- How did you know that?

You recognised the locket. It

was set there to trap you.

- By Camembert?

- Then you know who he is?

From the moment I

saw him. Now, where

is the girl you got

that locket from?

- I will tell you, if...

- If what?

If you will make me thine.

- Make you mine?

- Make me thine.

I don't think I can go that far.

Look, I want to be

Lady Rodney Ffing.

Yes, all right, providing

you promise not to

tell Camembert that I am

the Black Fingernail.

- Gladly.

- Right.

Now, then, about that girl...

Camembert... has her

prisoner. The Bastille.

I know what he is.

Where is the girl?

I've just told you.

She's in the Bastille.

- The swine. I'll kill him.

- No, no, you must not do that.

He has left orders that

if he does not return

within the week, she will

go to the guillotine.

Then I've got to get

back to France...

Here. What about our bargain?

- I hadn't forgotten it.

- Well, then, seal it.

- I haven't got any sealing wax.

- Well, I have.

No, madam. Madam. Put me down.

It worked. It worked.

We've got him.

- Who is it? Who?

- You'll never guess. Sir Rodney.

What? That Ffing? Impossible.

It's him, all right. He

said the locket was his.

I can't believe it. That

fiddlesome fop? That

doodling dandiprat?

The Black Fingernail?

Yes. Shall I do him now?

No, no, this must be handled with

caution. We're not in France now.

In this ridiculous

country, you need a

reason for killing

someone. Where is he?

In the rose arbour with Désirée.

In the rose arbour? Doing what?

Well, I bet they're not

watering the plants.

He's played right into my hands.

I'll walk in there,

surprise them both

at it, play the outraged brother,

and challenge him

to a duel... thus.

Aren't you taking a

bit of a chance, sir?

You seem to forget, Bidet. I am

the finest pistol shot in France,

and it's obvious he's no use

with any sort of weapon.

You wouldn't say that if you'd

seen him in the rose...

I'll go and fetch a

duelling pistol.

But just to be on

the safe side, make

sure you only load one with ball.

- What's this I see?

- Cammie.

Oh. My own sister ravaged

before my very eyes.

No, no, it's the other way round.

You despicable cur, sir.

I demand immediate satisfaction.

This seems a failing

in your family.

Enough, sir. You have insulted

the honour of the de la Plumes.

- To say nothing of Ma Tante.

- Ooh, that hurt.

As the injured party, I have the

choice of swords or pistols.

Well, we won't quarrel. You have

the swords, I'll have the pistols.

Do not jest, sir. Believe

me: I am deadly earnest.

And I am living Rodney, and

mean to stay that way.

You have no choice. This

is an affair of honour.

We meet at dawn.

Couldn't we make it later?

I sleep until midday.

At dawn, sir. One hour from now.

Oh, very well. Where?

You may choose the location.

What about the

Garden of Fragrance?

The Garden of

Fragrance it is, sir.

They say the scent's

lovely in the morning.

Till dawn, then.

What hour is it?

A minute before dawn, sir.

Hello. Here they come.

I don't care for your

choice of location.

I know what I'm doing.

Are the horses ready?

- Waiting. Will you kill him?

- No. He'd have the girl's head.

I've just got to delay him long

enough for us to get a good start.

Morning. Well, here we are,

then. What happens now?

What? Haven't you ever

fought a duel before?

Only with conkers.

It's going to be a

piece of cake, sir.

I've never had a fight with cake.

Wait for me.

What's he doing here?

The Duke has agreed

to act as referee.

Good morning, gentlemen.

Lovely day. Are we ready?

Yes.

Splendid. Now, I want

a good clean fight.

No fouling, plenty of action, and

no shooting below the belt. Right?

- Right.

- Right.

Now, then, arm yourselves,

gentlemen, please.

For me? Oh, thanks.

You're only supposed to have one.

Yes, only one.

Well, for heaven's

sake, get on with it.

Now, now. Temper, temper.

I am the referee,

and we shall start when

I am ready. Ready?

Seconds... out.

Well done.

Now, then, will you face

me, gentlemen, please?

Now, when I give the

signal, you will turn,

walk ten paces. And fire.

Are we ready? Good show.

Aaargh.

I say, you're a bit

close, aren't you?

You nincompoop. You're

supposed to go the other way.

- Which other way?

- Over there. Go on.

Did you see that? He pushed me.

Come back here at once.

I'm very cross with you. Another

incident, and I shall

send you both off.

Well, he started it.

- No, I did not.

- Yes, you did.

That's enough. Really.

All this fuss over a silly little

duel. Now, take your

positions again.

We will start

back-to-back this time.

That is better.

Now, are you ready?

No. No. Don't kill him.

I love... No.

Get out of the way, woman.

Get off. Get off. Get her off.

Get that fan off the pitch.

Oooh. Oooh.

I have never seen

anything like it.

You're a disgrace.

If I may say so,

sir, you're showing

an extraordinary lack of control.

- So are you, in those trousers.

- You mind your own business.

Now, for the last time,

gentlemen... places, please.

Yes... Oh, thank you.

Are you ready?

- Excuse me.

- Oh, what now?

Could we make it 15

paces instead of ten?

- What on earth for?

- Well, 15 is my lucky number.

Oh, all right. 15

paces. For heaven's

sake, let's get this

thing over with.

Oh, no.

Come on.

Sir. Sir. Are you all right?

- Was it the...?

- The cesspit, where he belongs.

Oh.

Ooh. He's right in it this time.

That's why you picked this place.

Yeah, that's it. Get

the horses. Come on.

Ready?

Now.

Come on. Here we go.

Oi, Rodney, what

about our bargain?

Looks like you've lost

your new-found love.

Are you all right, sir?

The kiss of life.

- What, no chopping today?

- Too early.

The unions won't let them

work before breakfast.

Why didn't you get

rid of old stinky

Camembert when you had the chance?

You stupid Darcy. If

Camembert doesn't

come back alive, the

girl gets the chop.

Now, where is this

Bastille, Pommfrit?

- I haven't got it.

- You've been there.

Oh, there. Yes, of

course. Follow me.

I shall want half your

detachment, Captain.

Right, half of you, fall out.

We're too late.

He hasn't got her, sir. Look.

I can see that, you great nitwit.

Citizen Nitwit, if

you don't mind, sir.

In our new Republic,

all are equal...

Yes, yes, I know all that rubbish.

So, Mademoiselle, we meet again.

I'm not afraid of you. Send me

to the guillotine, if you will.

You will never learn the identity

of the Black Fingernail.

I don't need to, Mademoiselle.

I already know who he is.

- What?

- Yes, an English fop.

A dancing dandy. A mincing ninny.

His name is, sir Rodney Ffing.

With two Fs.

Sir Rodney Ffing. With two Fs.

Even his name is music to my ears.

And I happen to know that

he's in Paris even now,

and that he intends

to try to rescue you.

And when he does try, I

shall be waiting for him.

Oh, what a dastardly scheme.

Now, now, none of your filthy,

bourgeois language here.

I shall not let him come here. I

shall get warning to him somehow.

I thought you might try that,

so I've arranged to

have you secretly

conveyed to another place

of detention. Come.

I can't stand it. I'm going in.

You must be joking. There's too

many of them. We're

not even armed.

So what? Who knows what's

happening to her in there?

Death, or even a fate

worse than death.

Don't worry. I haven't

tried death, but I

tried the other. It's

not as bad as they say.

- Somebody's coming.

- Come on.

Oh.

You know where to take her?

- Yes, Citizen.

- Get going.

And guard her well, if

you value your head.

I want two men on duty near her

old cell, night and day, Captain.

Yes, Citizen.

And you, Bidet, will

remain in her cell.

If anyone tries to get in,

arrest them immediately,

no matter who or what they

look like. Understand?

Don't worry, Citizen, sir.

He won't fool me

with his disguises.

Good. Let me know

the moment anything

happens. I shall be in my office.

Nice of them to tell us

they're setting a trap.

Yes, isn't it? We'll

make good use of it.

How?

Well, the first thing

we do is find out where

they've taken her. It's

very simple. Come on.

You two, come with me.

Count of Marseilles, Princess

of Lyons, Duc de Saville...

Guillotine, guillotine,

guillotine.

Come.

Citizen. Bidet's caught someone.

What? At last. At last.

This should be him. Come on.

- Hands up.

- What are you doing?

I'm arresting you, you fool.

Are you out of your senses?

It's me, Camembert.

Yes, of course, and

I'm Madame Pompadour.

Don't take that tone

with me, you upstart.

Watch it, watch it.

Oh, you've made

a right mess of this, haven't you?

You don't even look

like Camembert.

But I am him. I mean, he.

Yes, we'll see about that. Guards.

You fool...

- Does this look like Camembert?

- No, not half ugly enough.

Where are those beady little eyes?

And the snotty nose?

- And the rabbit teeth?

- All right. Take him away.

- Where are you taking me?

- To Citizen Camembert.

But I am Citizen Camembert.

Get out. Go on.

He's not here.

Of course he's not here. I'm him.

Why don't we take him

to Citizen Robespierre?

Yes, Robespierre. He'll

tell you who I am.

Out. Out.

All right. In you go.

Citizen Robespierre, will you

tell these fools who I am?

Well, who are you?

I don't believe it. You know me.

Citizen Camembert. Little Cammie.

I know Citizen Camembert

very well, but who are you?

Oh, no. Oh.

I caught him trying to

rescue the girl, sir.

Well done, Bidet.

Of course, the idea for the

trap was mine, Citizen.

Your idea? Don't believe him,

the two-faced little rat.

The girl isn't in

the cell. I had her

removed, so the Fingernail

couldn't get her.

- Oh? Where to?

- The Châteauneuf.

Châteauneuf?

With a guard of 20

soldiers over her. Would

I know all that if I

weren't Camembert?

I'll look into it.

Bidet, guard him well.

- Yes, sir.

- You two, come with me.

So, trapping the Fingernail

was your idea, was it?

Yes, that's right. Citizen

Camembert's not a bad old stick,

but he hasn't got

it up here like me.

You stupid great fool.

What's that?

I don't know.

Citizen Robespierre.

It can't be. He just went out.

That wasn't him, you

blithering idiot. That

was the Fingernail.

He's done it again.

- Then you must be...

- Camembert, yes.

Now will you believe me,

you blithering idiot?

Oh, no. The girl. I

told him where she is.

My coach, quick.

There we are. The Châteauneuf. Or,

as you would call it, Number Nine.

Well named. It won't

be easy to take.

Not against 20 soldiers. Are

those doors the only way in?

- Oh, yes.

- They look pretty solid to me.

- We need a ram.

- I saw one in the field.

That was a ewe.

Wait. I've got a better

idea. Gunpowder.

Here. What about me?

- Well, hurry.

- Nice manners, I must say.

Open. Open. And hurry up about it.

Open. Open.

Oh, it's you, Citizen.

- Is the girl all right?

- Yes, Citizen. Fine.

Thank goodness for that. We're

in time. What's all that?

♪ He loves me ♪

♪ Yeah, yeah, yeah ♪

♪ He loves me ♪

♪ Yeah, yeah, yeah ♪

♪ He loves me ♪

♪ Yeah, yeah, yeah ♪

What's going on in here?

♪ Yeah. Yeah yeah ♪

♪ He loves me ♪

♪ Yeah, yeah, yeah ♪

♪ He loves me ♪

♪ Yeah. Yeah. Yeah ♪

Stop it. Stop it at once. Get

off the furniture, you louts.

How dare you sit on old,

priceless antiques.

How dare you spoil

beautiful things

with your grubby seat marks.

It's a disgrace. What's

she doing with that harp?

Plucking it.

Well, I didn't think she

was knitting with it.

I didn't see any harm

in a bit of freedom.

No harm, when the Fingernail

may arrive at any moment?

Take her to the top

room of the High Tower.

Yes, Citizen. But there's a window

there. He might see her at it.

Fool. I want him to see her at it.

She is the bait that will

draw him into my final trap.

Yes, Citizen. Right, you

two, bring the girl.

Follow me.

Oh, filthy great louts.

Oh, absolute vandalism. They don't

appreciate good stuff

when they see it.

Why the fuss about a

crummy bit of furniture?

Crummy? This was the home of

Prince Jacques de Tourville,

one of the greatest art

collectors in France.

Every piece in it is priceless.

So what? It's not yours, is it?

Yes. It was presented

to me as a reward

for all my services

to the Revolution.

- Who by?

- Me, of course.

- Oh.

- But what about Prince Jacques?

Never mind Jacques. I'm all right.

But where do I fit in?

Wouldn't you like to

be mistress of this?

No, I'm finished with that. It's

marriage for me or nothing.

"The Princess Désirée

de Châteauneuf."

Yes, I like the sound of that.

Oh, we'll see. We'll see. Come.

I must show you the private

apartments. They're magnificent.

Do you know, even the china

thing is Dresden. Bidet...

Yes, Citizen, sir?

I shall want top security.

This is my final trap.

And she is the bait.

And what a smashing

bit of cheese, sir.

Oooh. Oh. Oh.

Oh, isn't it lovely?

What's that mirror up there for?

Oh, as I was saying, the

Prince was a great collector.

Oh, yes. He had some

beautiful pieces.

Just look at this wardrobe here.

Oh.

These were the Prince's?

- His wife's.

- Oh, I was going to say.

Oh, look at this beautiful one.

Would you like me to

get it out for you?

Oh, yes, Cammie.

Ooh.

Isn't it lovely?

- Why don't you try it on?

- Can I?

- Of course.

- Oh, Cammie. Oh, this is fun.

Help me get my dress off.

- Why are these doors bolted?

- So the Fingernail can't get in.

Imbecile. We want him in.

It's a trap. Open them.

- But...

- Open the doors.

I've had my orders, Citizen.

Oh, well... never

mind. I'll do it.

- Come along. The doors are open.

- I know, but they opened them.

What was that noise? Bidet?

Bidet? Where are you? Where...?

It looks like a trap.

Yes, it's the

spider-and-fly trick.

We'll have to find another way in.

I've got to get into

Jacqueline's room.

Isn't it marvellous?

I can't trust him to

do a thing without

making a mess of it.

Bidet? Bidet? Are you

all right? Bidet?

Mother.

Sorry, Citizen, sir. I

can't think straight.

My brain's not working properly.

Yes, he's all right.

Perfectly normal.

The Fingernail will

be here any minute.

Now, no shooting. I don't want

bullet holes in my furniture.

Back to your stations,

out of sight.

Yes, Citizen.

Are you sure this

will get me up there?

We used it at the

siege of Agincourt.

All right. Go on. Let her go.

Aaaargh.

You.

Now, don't scream.

Why? What are you

going to do to me?

- Nothing.

- Well, that settles it. Help.

I tell you, I distinctly

heard a crash. Come on.

Now, you know where

she is, and I've

got to get her. Will you help me?

Look, you made a bargain,

and you never kept it.

I promise you, if you help

me, you'll marry your title.

- Honour bright?

- See that wet? See it dry?

If I break my promise,

you can spit in my eye.

Not now.

Well?

All right. It's a deal.

And what, pray, is the

meaning of this intrusion?

What was that crash?

Oh, well, I had a little

accident opening the window.

A little accident? That was

worth thousands of francs.

It's a stained-glass window.

Well, if it was stained,

it needed replacing.

It needed repla...

Someone's been in here.

Don't be silly.

I don't believe you.

Search the rooms.

- Please yourself.

- I will.

- Citizen, sir.

- What is it?

Look. Earmuffs.

You idiot. They're kneepads.

Oh, yes.

Citizen, sir, I've got him, the

Black Fingernail. He's trapped.

Citizen Camembert? Citizen...

Camembert.

You stupid... Where are

you? Where are you?

You stupid idiot. What do

you think you're doing?

Hello. Citizen Camembert wants

me to speak to the girl.

Certainly, madam.

All right. You can come out now.

That was a hair-raising

experience.

- You.

- Yes. It's me.

- You said you would come back.

- I said I would come back.

- And you are here.

- And I am here.

- Like you said you would.

- Like I said I would.

Oh, all right. What are you

trying to do? Make a play of it?

I never thought you would

come back like this.

It was the only way.

You took a big risk.

Not half as big as the one I took.

- I love you.

- And I love you.

Oh, that's enough.

- Come on. Let's get out of here.

- But how?

I've got friends. Here. See?

They're waiting for my signal.

Right, my friend. To arms.

In case it slipped

your mind, you're

supposed to get us out of here.

Oh, yes.

Right. You go first, and we'll

follow. In a couple of days.

Oh, no, you don't. We all

go together, or not at all.

All right, then, spoilsport. Go

on. Make a noise. Call for help.

Help.

Stay here. I'll send for

you when it's over.

Yoo-hoo.

It's me.

The Black Fingernail. After him.

Bolt all the doors, Bidet.

We've got him in the trap.

Yes, sir.

Come on, Pommfrit.

Aha-ha. Come on. Defend

yourself, you poxy knave.

I'll have you arrested

for this. You know

what you're doing?

You're masquerading.

Help. Help. Help.

Pax. Fainites.

Cor.

No, no. Don't shoot.

Mind the furniture.

No, no. Use your swords.

Darcy.

Now.

Ha-ha-ha. Come on.

Aaaargh.

Tremendous fun.

Get going. I'll hold 'em off.

You'll pay for that window.

You'll pay for it. Do you hear?

Heyaargh.

Argh.

You clumsy great lout.

Can't you be more careful?

You've ruined my Petit point.

It could never have happened

before the Revolution.

Oh, beautiful things.

Irreplaceable.

Wait. Mind the vase.

Ready?

Oh, no. One of the finest

collections in France.

Ruined. Ruined. Gone for ever.

Go on.

Oh, no.

Won't be a minute, Duke.

Oh, no. Not the harp.

Aha. Ooh, I say.

Thank you, Duke.

Vandals. This took years to make.

Oh, beautiful thing.

Bidet. Bidet. Speak to me.

Waargh.

Oh... my bust.

Oh, beautiful thing.

Ha-ha.

- Olé.

- Oh, shut up. Get the girls.

Look out, Rodney.

Oh, no. What have I done?

Well, Cheeseface, the

reckoning has come.

All right, sir Rodney.

You win. I give up.

What shall we do with him, Darcy?

Well, there are lots of things we

could do. Hang him, drown him...

- Or just ventilate him.

- I'm coming, Citizen, sir.

Oh, no.

Oh, oh, no, no, no.

Darcy, bring the girls.

Come on. Let's get out of

here. Come on, Pommfrit.

Pull it up.

Up a bit. I'm holding it.

Let's get out of here.

Anyway, we've drawn a big crowd.

I have, you mean. You

don't think they've

come to see your miserable

head fall, do you?

I hope the rain keeps

off. I forgot my hat.

Thank goodness the accursed

Fingernail is not

here to see this.

I've got news for you.

I wouldn't have missed

this for the world.

♪ Wedding March ♪

Nice way to keep a

bargain, I must say.

What's the matter? I promised

you a title, and he's got one.

I hate to think what it is.