The Black Adder (1982–1983): Season 1, Episode 3 - The Archbishop - full transcript
Someone is assassinating the archbishops of England. Blackadder hopes that Harry will become the next archbishop of Canterbury, since this will make him the only heir of the throne. To his great surprise, the King chooses Blackadder instead...
(Feeble voice)
Dying, My Lords?
- Am I dying?
- Never!
- Never!
- Yet, my son,
to pass away the idle hours
till your recovery...
Urgh-h!
...let us imagine
you were to pass away.
To whom would you leave your lands?
To me, of course!
Ye-es. To my beloved king.
May your filthy soul
be prepared for Hell, my son.
- Hell?
- Yes, Hell...
where Satan belches fire
and enormous devils
break wind both night and day.
And where the mind is never free
from the torments of remorse,
and your bottom never free
from the pricking of little forks.
No! Spare me the little forks!
What is this nonsense?
Hell... where the softest bits
of your nether regions
are everybody's favourite lunch.
0h, Christ!
Forgive me, sire.
I will change my will
and leave my land to the Church.
What?
Blessed be thy stainless soul!
Ah, you will change
your mind later. I know it!
Urgh-h!
I think... not!
(Edmund)
Now, Baldrick, what news?
I'm told the Duchess of Gloucester
has given birth to goblins.
No, about the Duke of Winchester.
- He's hanging on.
- Must be on his last legs.
How many sets of legs
has that man got?
I wish he'd make up his mind.
This shilly-shallying
is so undignified.
My Lord, I come with tragic news.
Died at last, has he?
- Who, My Lord?
- 0h, I see!
You ask me what the message is
before you tell it to me.
Quite brilliant, I must say!
I was referring
to the Duke of Winchester.
Who, My Lord?
Let's try to sort this out
in words of one syllable, shall we?
- Someone has died, yes?
- Yes, My Lord.
Who is it that has died?
The Archbishop of Canterbury,
My Lord.
- Are you a cretin?
- Yes, My Lord.
The Archbishop of Canterbury?
0h, no - the King has done it again.
That's the third this year!
How did this one die?
- '0rribly, My Lord.
- Any details?
'0rribly is all I was given.
- There you are!
- I come with tragic news.
I've heard it. Will you go away?
Edmund, the Archbishop
of Canterbury
has met with
a most tragic accident.
I think I've fathomed out
how it came about.
I've a pretty shrewd idea myself.
He was coming out
of the Duke of Winchester's room.
Who had died,
leaving his lands to the Church?
Well, yes.
And so the King
was after his blood.
I dare say, but then, round the
corner came Sir Tavish Mortimer.
The King's hired killer?
No, that tall fellow with no ears.
That's him.
He rushed towards
the Archbishop, head bowed,
in order to receive
his blessing...
and, er, unfortunately
killed him stone dead.
How?
Mortimer was wearing
a Turkish helmet.
0h, one of those
with a two-feet spike.
Normally used for butting enemies
and killing them stone dead.
So presumably he'd "forgotten"
he was wearing it?
That's exactly
what the poor fellow had done.
Tragic!
Ah, yes, almost as tragic
as Archbishop Bertram
being struck by
a falling gargoyle off Beachy Head.
Quite. And nearly as tragic
as poor Archbishop Wilfred
falling backwards
onto the spire of Norwich Cathedral.
0h, Lord, you do
work in mysterious ways.
I don't know how I'm going
to break it to his catamite.
What a tragic accident, My Lord.
Accident, my codling!
(Percy)
Who do you think will take over?
0ne of the bishop fellows,
I imagine.
They tend to go for religious types.
Rumour has it, My Lord, the King
wants to choose Prince Harry.
Really?
Prince Harry, archbishop, My Lord?
Good Lord! Prince Harry, archbishop!
And we all know what happens
to archbishops, don't we?
They go to Canterbury.
No, no, no, no, no, no!
0h, yes!
Are you sure about your source?
It was Jane Smart -
the one who told me about
the chocolate chastity belt.
It was? Blimey!
Well, with Harry gone...
- the Black Adder will be...
- (Both) King... Next!
Yes, today could be one of
the most important days of my life.
Percy, I shall require
splendid garments for the ceremony.
- Certainly. Hat, My Lord?
- Trojan, I think.
- Boots?
- The Italian.
- And codpiece, My Lord?
- Well, let's go...
for the Black Russian, shall we?
It terrifies the clergy.
(Braying laughter)
(Organ)
Any news, Baldrick?
Apparently, Lord Wilders is
keeping his sheep in his bedroom,
but nothing on the appointment, no.
Fair enough.
- Why are you dressed like this?
- Like what, sorry?
Well, this enormous nonsense here.
(Fanfare)
Fingers crossed!
Members of the court
and, er... clergy,
I have... at last...
after careful consultation with
Lord God, his son, Jesus Christ,
and his insubstantial friend,
the Holy Ghost,
decided upon the next archbishop.
May he last longer in his post
than his predecessors.
Fat chance!
I appoint
to the Holy See of Canterbury
my own son...
...Edwin, Duke of Edinburgh!
Eeh-h!
Archbishop, we salute thee!
- Congratulations!
- D-D-Down!
0h!
Use both hands.
Very good, very good!
Well done, Harry!
(Knock)
Enter!
Ah, Your Majesty!
Ha! My Lord Archbishop!
There were just a couple of points
about my appointment,
- before things are firmed up.
- Yes?
- Firstly, could I?
- No, you couldn't.
Fine. And secondly...
Don't be mistaken
about this appointment.
I've always despised you.
Well, you are my father,
of course. I mean, you're biased.
You, compared to your beloved
brother Harry - ha-ha-ha! -
are as excrement compared to cream.
0h, My Lord, you flatter me!
And me, also.
So when I've at last
found a use for you,
- don't try to get out of it.
- No, no. Certainly not.
I just wondered whether another man
equally weak-willed and feeble
might do just as well.
Ha! There's no such man!
No, of course not. Silly me!
I thought, though, perhaps,
someone who believed in God?
No, if I needed someone
who believed in God,
I'd have chosen Harry,
not an embarrassing weed like you.
0h, well, I think
that's everything cleared up.
Goodness! It must be
almost time for Evensong. Must go.
Egbert!
Come here.
A word of advice.
If you cross me now... or ever...
I shall do unto you
what God did unto the Sodomites.
I don't think that's a good idea!
You understand?
I shall make myself
available for all eventualities.
Thank you so much.
Flee!
We've got the thumbscrews,
the foot-crusher, the nose-hooks,
those long rods you r-ram...
- Where's the dwarf?
- Here, My Lord.
Right, let's go.
- Archbishop!
- Aah...
- H-Hail.
- Going somewhere?
Um...
Yes.
Where?
To C-Canterbury.
0h, good!
Harry here will accompany you.
I would hate to see you murdered
before your investiture.
(The King)
Fresh horses!
My Lord, if we're to catch the boat
for France, you'll have to hurry.
To France?
Um, are you off to France, Percy?
I thought we all were.
No, no. Harry and I are off
to Canterbury, aren't we, Harry?
0h, I see.
You've changed your plan.
N-No. No, not really.
The only change is if you could
go and put your face in some manure
and follow me at a distance,
that would be fine.
Harry?
And another thing, Your Grace,
suppose my right hand
offends me and I cut it off,
what if my left hand
offends me too?
What do I cut if off with?
Ah, yes. Yes, that is a knotty one.
Yes.
Here, who's that?
I dunno, but that tall fellow,
he had a face full of manure.
That's what I call style!
(Ceremonial organ chords)
Do you, Edmund, Duke of Edinburgh,
believe in God the Father,
God the Son and God the Holy Ghost?
(Bell tolls)
Um, yes.
I then name thee
Archbishop of Canterbury
and Primate of all England.
A-choo!
(Blows nose noisily)
(Narrator)
His investiture over,
Edmund the Unwilling swiftly
adopted the ways of the cloth.
But ever the shadow of his
father's threat hung over him,
until one day...
Tell me, exactly what did
God do to the Sodomites?
I dunno, My Lord.
I can't imagine it was worse
than they used to do to each other.
0h, my God, this is it!
Baldrick, go and get
My Lord Bishop of Ramsgate.
- Eh?
- Get Percy! Get Percy!
My life is hanging by a thread!
And if I don't leave my lands
to the Church, then what?
Then, Lord Graveney,
you will assuredly go to Hell.
Alas!
Hell...
where the air is pungent
with the aroma of roasted behinds.
No, no!
(Hacking cough)
I place my lands
in the hands of the Church.
And so bid the world farewell!
What? The Archbishop
not yet arrived?
Not yet, and even
if he did arrive...
- Wait!
- Too late!
0ut of my way!
I'll kill the pair of you!
I'll abolish the Church!
My Lord! My Lord! Aa-ii-ee!
I said, "0ut!" Get out!
0h, My Lord, My Lord!
Wake up, wake up...
Wake up!
- Am I in Paradise?
- No, no. Not yet.
Then this must be Hell.
Alas! Spare my posterior!
No, you're all right -
it's England.
And you are not Satan?
No, I'm the Archbishop
of Canterbury.
0h, Your Grace, I have left
all my lands to the Church.
Am I to be saved?
No, you treacherous swine!
I'll kill you!
Wait! Let's just take this through
in stages, shall we?
Um, you know, the Church
doesn't really need your lands.
No, what it needs
is a damn good thrashing!
But if I do not gain its blessing,
I will surely go to Hell!
- Hell, where tiny tweezers...
- Get out!
Someone like you go to Hell?
Never! Never!
- I have committed many sins.
- Haven't we all?
- I murdered my father.
- I know how you feel!
- Alas!
- Hurry up, Egbert!
- I have committed adultery...
- Who hasn't?
...more than a thousand times...
Well, it is 1487.
...with my mother.
- What?
You see, I will go to Hell.
Hell, where growths like turnips
sprout out the nose...
Kill him!
Um, well, let's take Hell.
Hell isn't as bad
as it's cracked up to be.
- What?
- No, no, no, no.
The thing about Heaven
is that Heaven is for people
who like the sort of things
that go on in Heaven,
like singing, talking to God,
watering pot plants.
Whereas Hell, on the other hand,
is for people who like
the other sorts of things -
adultery, pillage,
torture... those areas.
Really?
Mmm. 0nce you're dead,
you'll have the time of your life.
Adultery, pillage -
through all eternity?
Yep!
Struck with large sticks
against your tender portions...
Henry, it's your decision.
Very well. I'll leave
my lands to the Crown
and my soul
in the hands of the Lord.
May he treat me like
the piece of refuse that I am
and send me to Hell
where I belong.
Amen!
Amen. You're a lucky man.
I wish I could come with you,
but being Archbishop...
- I'm so sorry.
- It's 0K.
Ah-h!
- My son!
- Father!
- Father!
- My son!
Who's that?
Looks like the kind of pair
who would kill the Archbishop.
Typical!
(The King)
You Turkish dog!
- You Turkish pig!
- Father, it's me! Pax!
0h, yes. Sorry, Harry.
You're improving.
Yes.
Well, thank you, Father.
Good night, Mother.
He's gaining on me!
He's gaining on me!
And how was Edmund?
0h, very well.
Chiswick! Fresh horse!
And how are his dear little sheep?
- Whose sheep?
- Edmund's sheep.
What sheep?
Well, the ones at Canterbury.
His flock
that he was talking about.
0h, my God!
I can't understand it.
Edmund doesn't even like religion.
That's impossible.
He's the Archbishop of Canterbury!
Yes, and the Archbishop
is also a naughty boy,
whose bottom I smacked
for relieving himself in the pond.
That was a long time ago.
It was last Thursday.
Hell, the boy's turned out well.
A long and healthy life to him!
Ha!
I thank God that
never again shall I have to say,
"Who will rid me
of this turbulent priest?"
- What is that?
- Something Henry II said
when he was having trouble
with Thomas a Becket.
He was sitting with
two drunken knights and yelled,
"Who will rid me
of this turbulent priest?"
What?
0h, God save us!
I said, "Who will rid me
of this turbulent priest?"
Meaning who?
The Archbishop
of Canterbury, of course!
They went off
and killed him, of course!
Right, let's get down to business.
Business?
Baldrick's been looking at ways
of making a bit of money
on this job.
Basically, there appear to be
four major profit areas.
Curses, pardons, relics and selling
the sexual favours of the nuns.
Selling?
Some people actually pay for them?
Foreign business men,
other nuns, yes.
Let's start with pardons.
Well, this is a fair selection.
You seem to get what you pay for.
They run from a pardon
for talking with your mouth full
signed by an apprentice curate.
How much is that?
Two pebbles.
All the way up to this one,
which is a pardon for anything:
Murder, adultery, dismemberment
of a friend or relative.
- Who is that signed by?
- Both Popes.
That's a good one.
Curses are much the same.
I got this for half an egg.
Curse. "Dear Enemy,
I curse you and hope that something
unpleasant happens to you,
like an onion falling on your head."
That's the bottom end
of the market.
They run to this one
for four ducats.
"Dear Enemy, May the Lord hate you
and all your kind."
"May you be turned orange
and may your head fall off
at an awkward moment."
- Does this work?
- Yes.
- Really?
- Yes!
- Really?
- No!
Moving on to relics,
we've got shrouds from Turin,
wine from the wedding at Cana,
splinters from the Cross...
and there's all the stuff
made by Jesus
in his days in the carpentry shop.
Pipe racks, coffee tables,
cake stands, book ends...
crucifixes...
a nice cheeseboard, fruit bowls,
waterproof sandals...
- I haven't finished this one yet.
- Disgraceful!
- They're obviously fake!
- Ha! Yes.
But how will people tell
which are the real relics?
They won't. That's the point.
Well, you won't be able
to fool everyone. Look!
I have here a true relic.
What is it?
It is a bone
from the finger of 0ur Lord.
It cost me 31 pieces of silver.
Good Lord! Is it real?
It is, My Lord.
Baldrick, you stand amazed.
I am. I thought
they only came in boxes of ten.
I could've given you one of mine.
Yeah, fingers
are really big now.
But for a quick sale,
you can't beat a nose.
This is the Sacred Appendage
Compendium Party Pack.
Jesus's nose...
St Peter's nose...
St Francis's nose...
0h, no. They're Joan of Arc's.
Bastard verger! I'll show him!
I'll show him!
0h!
- Hello.
- Good evening.
And what can I do for you?
Well, we're here to murder
the Archbishop of Canterbury...
...'s various enemies.
- We fear he may be in danger.
- Really? How?
Let me see.
Perhaps good King Richard,
- angry with the Archbishop...
- Don't know why.
...might well send two drunken
knights fresh from the Crusades
on a mission
to wreak vengeance on him.
Good point. It has happened before.
Sorry, I didn't
quite catch your names.
- George de Boef.
- How do you do?
Justin de Boinod.
Two drunken knights
fresh from the Crusades
and here on a mission
for King Richard, bless him!
And your mission?
We're here to kill...
...a bit of time...
before our next Crusade.
0h, right, yes.
Well, I'll just go and get him.
Ah, Baldrick, a couple of knights
to see the Archbishop.
0h, my God!
Monks!
My Lord,
I've something to tell you.
If it's about the nuns at Uppingham
and the candelabra, I've heard it.
No, there's two men outside
who've come to kill you.
What?
L-I'm terribly sorry about this.
I'll just see what the delay is.
Feel free.
Look, what's going on?
Those two men have come to kill us!
0h, just because they've a bit of
class, you assume they're killers!
0h, my God, there's no way out!
Help! Help! 0h, my God, help us!
They've dropped off!
- Ya-ah-h!
- Ya-a-ah!
Damn! They must have gone down
the secret passage to the nunnery.
Ya-a-ah-h!
Sisters, three men came in.
Which way did they go?
(Falsetto)
0h, I think they went that way.
God bless you!
Wait! They'll be watching out
for us dressed like this.
Quick! In here!
(They titter nervously)
Pray, Sister, have you seen
two burly knights pass this way?
(Cracked falsetto)
Er, no, Sister. More's the pity!
Why don't you try that way?
- (Normal voices) Thanks.
- You're welcome.
And yet, Mother Superior,
does not St. Paul say
in The Ephesians,
"A woman is like a bat -
"often heard but never seen."?
No, I don't think so, Sara.
Shall we check the dormitory?
0h, yes, Mother Superior.
Good idea!
Girls!
Girls! Girls!
I've told you a thousand times,
fighting in the dormitories
is forbidden!
Who is the ringleader?
You! Yes, you, the plain girl!
0h, my God!
It's the Archbishop of Canterbury!
And a man! 0oh-h!
Er, I think I can explain.
(Giggles weakly)
And that, sweet lady,
is the whole story.
Let's go over the facts again.
0nce appointed Archbishop,
you found all your interests lay
in beautiful vestments.
Ah, the fine embroidery!
Unable to resist
the slide into depravity,
you began to
dress up like a nun.
The irresistible texture
of the hessian underthings!
I can understand that.
Then you forced
the Bishop of Ramsgate
and Brother Baldrick to do so also.
0h, may I be cursed for it!
Finally,
you got two knights drunk
and invited them to wrestle
with you inside the nunnery
- in a heathen orgy.
- That's it, yes.
It bears the ring of truth
and I must therefore tell you
that I have written to all Popes
recommending your excommunication.
Never more may you be
Archbishop of Canterbury!
0h, dear!
Enough, Sister Sara.
I think he's learnt his lesson.
Sorry?
0h. 0w! 0w!
Go, sirrah, and meet thy doom!
(0minous organ chords)
Quick! The nunnery's on fire!
# The sound of hoofbeats
cross the glade
# Good folk,
lock up your son and daughter
# Beware the deadly flashing blade
# Unless you want to end up shorter
# Black Adder, Black Adder
# He rides a pitch-black steed
# Black Adder, Black Adder
# He's very bad indeed
# Black his gloves of finest mole
# Black his codpiece made of metal
# His horse is blacker than a vole
# His pot is blacker
than his kettle
# Black Adder, Black Adder
# With many a cunning plan
# Black Adder, Black Adder,
# You horrid little man! #
Alas! The corruption of the world!
Yes, alas!
I'm tired and weary.
You may leave.
- Very well.
- Alas.
Presumably you won't be
needing the unicorn tonight?
No. No, not tonight, Sara.
Dying, My Lords?
- Am I dying?
- Never!
- Never!
- Yet, my son,
to pass away the idle hours
till your recovery...
Urgh-h!
...let us imagine
you were to pass away.
To whom would you leave your lands?
To me, of course!
Ye-es. To my beloved king.
May your filthy soul
be prepared for Hell, my son.
- Hell?
- Yes, Hell...
where Satan belches fire
and enormous devils
break wind both night and day.
And where the mind is never free
from the torments of remorse,
and your bottom never free
from the pricking of little forks.
No! Spare me the little forks!
What is this nonsense?
Hell... where the softest bits
of your nether regions
are everybody's favourite lunch.
0h, Christ!
Forgive me, sire.
I will change my will
and leave my land to the Church.
What?
Blessed be thy stainless soul!
Ah, you will change
your mind later. I know it!
Urgh-h!
I think... not!
(Edmund)
Now, Baldrick, what news?
I'm told the Duchess of Gloucester
has given birth to goblins.
No, about the Duke of Winchester.
- He's hanging on.
- Must be on his last legs.
How many sets of legs
has that man got?
I wish he'd make up his mind.
This shilly-shallying
is so undignified.
My Lord, I come with tragic news.
Died at last, has he?
- Who, My Lord?
- 0h, I see!
You ask me what the message is
before you tell it to me.
Quite brilliant, I must say!
I was referring
to the Duke of Winchester.
Who, My Lord?
Let's try to sort this out
in words of one syllable, shall we?
- Someone has died, yes?
- Yes, My Lord.
Who is it that has died?
The Archbishop of Canterbury,
My Lord.
- Are you a cretin?
- Yes, My Lord.
The Archbishop of Canterbury?
0h, no - the King has done it again.
That's the third this year!
How did this one die?
- '0rribly, My Lord.
- Any details?
'0rribly is all I was given.
- There you are!
- I come with tragic news.
I've heard it. Will you go away?
Edmund, the Archbishop
of Canterbury
has met with
a most tragic accident.
I think I've fathomed out
how it came about.
I've a pretty shrewd idea myself.
He was coming out
of the Duke of Winchester's room.
Who had died,
leaving his lands to the Church?
Well, yes.
And so the King
was after his blood.
I dare say, but then, round the
corner came Sir Tavish Mortimer.
The King's hired killer?
No, that tall fellow with no ears.
That's him.
He rushed towards
the Archbishop, head bowed,
in order to receive
his blessing...
and, er, unfortunately
killed him stone dead.
How?
Mortimer was wearing
a Turkish helmet.
0h, one of those
with a two-feet spike.
Normally used for butting enemies
and killing them stone dead.
So presumably he'd "forgotten"
he was wearing it?
That's exactly
what the poor fellow had done.
Tragic!
Ah, yes, almost as tragic
as Archbishop Bertram
being struck by
a falling gargoyle off Beachy Head.
Quite. And nearly as tragic
as poor Archbishop Wilfred
falling backwards
onto the spire of Norwich Cathedral.
0h, Lord, you do
work in mysterious ways.
I don't know how I'm going
to break it to his catamite.
What a tragic accident, My Lord.
Accident, my codling!
(Percy)
Who do you think will take over?
0ne of the bishop fellows,
I imagine.
They tend to go for religious types.
Rumour has it, My Lord, the King
wants to choose Prince Harry.
Really?
Prince Harry, archbishop, My Lord?
Good Lord! Prince Harry, archbishop!
And we all know what happens
to archbishops, don't we?
They go to Canterbury.
No, no, no, no, no, no!
0h, yes!
Are you sure about your source?
It was Jane Smart -
the one who told me about
the chocolate chastity belt.
It was? Blimey!
Well, with Harry gone...
- the Black Adder will be...
- (Both) King... Next!
Yes, today could be one of
the most important days of my life.
Percy, I shall require
splendid garments for the ceremony.
- Certainly. Hat, My Lord?
- Trojan, I think.
- Boots?
- The Italian.
- And codpiece, My Lord?
- Well, let's go...
for the Black Russian, shall we?
It terrifies the clergy.
(Braying laughter)
(Organ)
Any news, Baldrick?
Apparently, Lord Wilders is
keeping his sheep in his bedroom,
but nothing on the appointment, no.
Fair enough.
- Why are you dressed like this?
- Like what, sorry?
Well, this enormous nonsense here.
(Fanfare)
Fingers crossed!
Members of the court
and, er... clergy,
I have... at last...
after careful consultation with
Lord God, his son, Jesus Christ,
and his insubstantial friend,
the Holy Ghost,
decided upon the next archbishop.
May he last longer in his post
than his predecessors.
Fat chance!
I appoint
to the Holy See of Canterbury
my own son...
...Edwin, Duke of Edinburgh!
Eeh-h!
Archbishop, we salute thee!
- Congratulations!
- D-D-Down!
0h!
Use both hands.
Very good, very good!
Well done, Harry!
(Knock)
Enter!
Ah, Your Majesty!
Ha! My Lord Archbishop!
There were just a couple of points
about my appointment,
- before things are firmed up.
- Yes?
- Firstly, could I?
- No, you couldn't.
Fine. And secondly...
Don't be mistaken
about this appointment.
I've always despised you.
Well, you are my father,
of course. I mean, you're biased.
You, compared to your beloved
brother Harry - ha-ha-ha! -
are as excrement compared to cream.
0h, My Lord, you flatter me!
And me, also.
So when I've at last
found a use for you,
- don't try to get out of it.
- No, no. Certainly not.
I just wondered whether another man
equally weak-willed and feeble
might do just as well.
Ha! There's no such man!
No, of course not. Silly me!
I thought, though, perhaps,
someone who believed in God?
No, if I needed someone
who believed in God,
I'd have chosen Harry,
not an embarrassing weed like you.
0h, well, I think
that's everything cleared up.
Goodness! It must be
almost time for Evensong. Must go.
Egbert!
Come here.
A word of advice.
If you cross me now... or ever...
I shall do unto you
what God did unto the Sodomites.
I don't think that's a good idea!
You understand?
I shall make myself
available for all eventualities.
Thank you so much.
Flee!
We've got the thumbscrews,
the foot-crusher, the nose-hooks,
those long rods you r-ram...
- Where's the dwarf?
- Here, My Lord.
Right, let's go.
- Archbishop!
- Aah...
- H-Hail.
- Going somewhere?
Um...
Yes.
Where?
To C-Canterbury.
0h, good!
Harry here will accompany you.
I would hate to see you murdered
before your investiture.
(The King)
Fresh horses!
My Lord, if we're to catch the boat
for France, you'll have to hurry.
To France?
Um, are you off to France, Percy?
I thought we all were.
No, no. Harry and I are off
to Canterbury, aren't we, Harry?
0h, I see.
You've changed your plan.
N-No. No, not really.
The only change is if you could
go and put your face in some manure
and follow me at a distance,
that would be fine.
Harry?
And another thing, Your Grace,
suppose my right hand
offends me and I cut it off,
what if my left hand
offends me too?
What do I cut if off with?
Ah, yes. Yes, that is a knotty one.
Yes.
Here, who's that?
I dunno, but that tall fellow,
he had a face full of manure.
That's what I call style!
(Ceremonial organ chords)
Do you, Edmund, Duke of Edinburgh,
believe in God the Father,
God the Son and God the Holy Ghost?
(Bell tolls)
Um, yes.
I then name thee
Archbishop of Canterbury
and Primate of all England.
A-choo!
(Blows nose noisily)
(Narrator)
His investiture over,
Edmund the Unwilling swiftly
adopted the ways of the cloth.
But ever the shadow of his
father's threat hung over him,
until one day...
Tell me, exactly what did
God do to the Sodomites?
I dunno, My Lord.
I can't imagine it was worse
than they used to do to each other.
0h, my God, this is it!
Baldrick, go and get
My Lord Bishop of Ramsgate.
- Eh?
- Get Percy! Get Percy!
My life is hanging by a thread!
And if I don't leave my lands
to the Church, then what?
Then, Lord Graveney,
you will assuredly go to Hell.
Alas!
Hell...
where the air is pungent
with the aroma of roasted behinds.
No, no!
(Hacking cough)
I place my lands
in the hands of the Church.
And so bid the world farewell!
What? The Archbishop
not yet arrived?
Not yet, and even
if he did arrive...
- Wait!
- Too late!
0ut of my way!
I'll kill the pair of you!
I'll abolish the Church!
My Lord! My Lord! Aa-ii-ee!
I said, "0ut!" Get out!
0h, My Lord, My Lord!
Wake up, wake up...
Wake up!
- Am I in Paradise?
- No, no. Not yet.
Then this must be Hell.
Alas! Spare my posterior!
No, you're all right -
it's England.
And you are not Satan?
No, I'm the Archbishop
of Canterbury.
0h, Your Grace, I have left
all my lands to the Church.
Am I to be saved?
No, you treacherous swine!
I'll kill you!
Wait! Let's just take this through
in stages, shall we?
Um, you know, the Church
doesn't really need your lands.
No, what it needs
is a damn good thrashing!
But if I do not gain its blessing,
I will surely go to Hell!
- Hell, where tiny tweezers...
- Get out!
Someone like you go to Hell?
Never! Never!
- I have committed many sins.
- Haven't we all?
- I murdered my father.
- I know how you feel!
- Alas!
- Hurry up, Egbert!
- I have committed adultery...
- Who hasn't?
...more than a thousand times...
Well, it is 1487.
...with my mother.
- What?
You see, I will go to Hell.
Hell, where growths like turnips
sprout out the nose...
Kill him!
Um, well, let's take Hell.
Hell isn't as bad
as it's cracked up to be.
- What?
- No, no, no, no.
The thing about Heaven
is that Heaven is for people
who like the sort of things
that go on in Heaven,
like singing, talking to God,
watering pot plants.
Whereas Hell, on the other hand,
is for people who like
the other sorts of things -
adultery, pillage,
torture... those areas.
Really?
Mmm. 0nce you're dead,
you'll have the time of your life.
Adultery, pillage -
through all eternity?
Yep!
Struck with large sticks
against your tender portions...
Henry, it's your decision.
Very well. I'll leave
my lands to the Crown
and my soul
in the hands of the Lord.
May he treat me like
the piece of refuse that I am
and send me to Hell
where I belong.
Amen!
Amen. You're a lucky man.
I wish I could come with you,
but being Archbishop...
- I'm so sorry.
- It's 0K.
Ah-h!
- My son!
- Father!
- Father!
- My son!
Who's that?
Looks like the kind of pair
who would kill the Archbishop.
Typical!
(The King)
You Turkish dog!
- You Turkish pig!
- Father, it's me! Pax!
0h, yes. Sorry, Harry.
You're improving.
Yes.
Well, thank you, Father.
Good night, Mother.
He's gaining on me!
He's gaining on me!
And how was Edmund?
0h, very well.
Chiswick! Fresh horse!
And how are his dear little sheep?
- Whose sheep?
- Edmund's sheep.
What sheep?
Well, the ones at Canterbury.
His flock
that he was talking about.
0h, my God!
I can't understand it.
Edmund doesn't even like religion.
That's impossible.
He's the Archbishop of Canterbury!
Yes, and the Archbishop
is also a naughty boy,
whose bottom I smacked
for relieving himself in the pond.
That was a long time ago.
It was last Thursday.
Hell, the boy's turned out well.
A long and healthy life to him!
Ha!
I thank God that
never again shall I have to say,
"Who will rid me
of this turbulent priest?"
- What is that?
- Something Henry II said
when he was having trouble
with Thomas a Becket.
He was sitting with
two drunken knights and yelled,
"Who will rid me
of this turbulent priest?"
What?
0h, God save us!
I said, "Who will rid me
of this turbulent priest?"
Meaning who?
The Archbishop
of Canterbury, of course!
They went off
and killed him, of course!
Right, let's get down to business.
Business?
Baldrick's been looking at ways
of making a bit of money
on this job.
Basically, there appear to be
four major profit areas.
Curses, pardons, relics and selling
the sexual favours of the nuns.
Selling?
Some people actually pay for them?
Foreign business men,
other nuns, yes.
Let's start with pardons.
Well, this is a fair selection.
You seem to get what you pay for.
They run from a pardon
for talking with your mouth full
signed by an apprentice curate.
How much is that?
Two pebbles.
All the way up to this one,
which is a pardon for anything:
Murder, adultery, dismemberment
of a friend or relative.
- Who is that signed by?
- Both Popes.
That's a good one.
Curses are much the same.
I got this for half an egg.
Curse. "Dear Enemy,
I curse you and hope that something
unpleasant happens to you,
like an onion falling on your head."
That's the bottom end
of the market.
They run to this one
for four ducats.
"Dear Enemy, May the Lord hate you
and all your kind."
"May you be turned orange
and may your head fall off
at an awkward moment."
- Does this work?
- Yes.
- Really?
- Yes!
- Really?
- No!
Moving on to relics,
we've got shrouds from Turin,
wine from the wedding at Cana,
splinters from the Cross...
and there's all the stuff
made by Jesus
in his days in the carpentry shop.
Pipe racks, coffee tables,
cake stands, book ends...
crucifixes...
a nice cheeseboard, fruit bowls,
waterproof sandals...
- I haven't finished this one yet.
- Disgraceful!
- They're obviously fake!
- Ha! Yes.
But how will people tell
which are the real relics?
They won't. That's the point.
Well, you won't be able
to fool everyone. Look!
I have here a true relic.
What is it?
It is a bone
from the finger of 0ur Lord.
It cost me 31 pieces of silver.
Good Lord! Is it real?
It is, My Lord.
Baldrick, you stand amazed.
I am. I thought
they only came in boxes of ten.
I could've given you one of mine.
Yeah, fingers
are really big now.
But for a quick sale,
you can't beat a nose.
This is the Sacred Appendage
Compendium Party Pack.
Jesus's nose...
St Peter's nose...
St Francis's nose...
0h, no. They're Joan of Arc's.
Bastard verger! I'll show him!
I'll show him!
0h!
- Hello.
- Good evening.
And what can I do for you?
Well, we're here to murder
the Archbishop of Canterbury...
...'s various enemies.
- We fear he may be in danger.
- Really? How?
Let me see.
Perhaps good King Richard,
- angry with the Archbishop...
- Don't know why.
...might well send two drunken
knights fresh from the Crusades
on a mission
to wreak vengeance on him.
Good point. It has happened before.
Sorry, I didn't
quite catch your names.
- George de Boef.
- How do you do?
Justin de Boinod.
Two drunken knights
fresh from the Crusades
and here on a mission
for King Richard, bless him!
And your mission?
We're here to kill...
...a bit of time...
before our next Crusade.
0h, right, yes.
Well, I'll just go and get him.
Ah, Baldrick, a couple of knights
to see the Archbishop.
0h, my God!
Monks!
My Lord,
I've something to tell you.
If it's about the nuns at Uppingham
and the candelabra, I've heard it.
No, there's two men outside
who've come to kill you.
What?
L-I'm terribly sorry about this.
I'll just see what the delay is.
Feel free.
Look, what's going on?
Those two men have come to kill us!
0h, just because they've a bit of
class, you assume they're killers!
0h, my God, there's no way out!
Help! Help! 0h, my God, help us!
They've dropped off!
- Ya-ah-h!
- Ya-a-ah!
Damn! They must have gone down
the secret passage to the nunnery.
Ya-a-ah-h!
Sisters, three men came in.
Which way did they go?
(Falsetto)
0h, I think they went that way.
God bless you!
Wait! They'll be watching out
for us dressed like this.
Quick! In here!
(They titter nervously)
Pray, Sister, have you seen
two burly knights pass this way?
(Cracked falsetto)
Er, no, Sister. More's the pity!
Why don't you try that way?
- (Normal voices) Thanks.
- You're welcome.
And yet, Mother Superior,
does not St. Paul say
in The Ephesians,
"A woman is like a bat -
"often heard but never seen."?
No, I don't think so, Sara.
Shall we check the dormitory?
0h, yes, Mother Superior.
Good idea!
Girls!
Girls! Girls!
I've told you a thousand times,
fighting in the dormitories
is forbidden!
Who is the ringleader?
You! Yes, you, the plain girl!
0h, my God!
It's the Archbishop of Canterbury!
And a man! 0oh-h!
Er, I think I can explain.
(Giggles weakly)
And that, sweet lady,
is the whole story.
Let's go over the facts again.
0nce appointed Archbishop,
you found all your interests lay
in beautiful vestments.
Ah, the fine embroidery!
Unable to resist
the slide into depravity,
you began to
dress up like a nun.
The irresistible texture
of the hessian underthings!
I can understand that.
Then you forced
the Bishop of Ramsgate
and Brother Baldrick to do so also.
0h, may I be cursed for it!
Finally,
you got two knights drunk
and invited them to wrestle
with you inside the nunnery
- in a heathen orgy.
- That's it, yes.
It bears the ring of truth
and I must therefore tell you
that I have written to all Popes
recommending your excommunication.
Never more may you be
Archbishop of Canterbury!
0h, dear!
Enough, Sister Sara.
I think he's learnt his lesson.
Sorry?
0h. 0w! 0w!
Go, sirrah, and meet thy doom!
(0minous organ chords)
Quick! The nunnery's on fire!
# The sound of hoofbeats
cross the glade
# Good folk,
lock up your son and daughter
# Beware the deadly flashing blade
# Unless you want to end up shorter
# Black Adder, Black Adder
# He rides a pitch-black steed
# Black Adder, Black Adder
# He's very bad indeed
# Black his gloves of finest mole
# Black his codpiece made of metal
# His horse is blacker than a vole
# His pot is blacker
than his kettle
# Black Adder, Black Adder
# With many a cunning plan
# Black Adder, Black Adder,
# You horrid little man! #
Alas! The corruption of the world!
Yes, alas!
I'm tired and weary.
You may leave.
- Very well.
- Alas.
Presumably you won't be
needing the unicorn tonight?
No. No, not tonight, Sara.