The Black Adder (1982–1983): Season 1, Episode 6 - The Black Seal - full transcript

When Edmund loses his title of Duke of Edinburgh, he snaps, fires Baldrick and Percy and hires some of the most cruel men in England; Sir Wilfred Death, Three-Fingered Pete, Guy de Glastonbury, Sean the Irish Bastard, Friar Bellows and Jack Large to help him take over the kingdom.


St Juniper once said,
"By his loins shall ye know him,

"and by the length
of his rod shall he be measured."

The length of my rod
is a mystery to all but the Queen

and a thousand Turkish whores!

But the fruits of my loins
are here for all to see.

I have two sons -

Harry and another one.

Step forward, Harry,
Prince of Wales.

Harry, I hereby name thee
Captain of the Guard,

Grand Warden of the Eastern
and Northern Marches,

Chief Lunatic of Gloucester,



Viceroy of Wales,
Sheriff of Nottingham,

Marquis of the Midlands,

Lord Po-maker in Ordinary,
and Harbinger of the Doomed Rat!

Step forward, the other one!

Thy titles have been but few -

Duke of Edinburgh
and Warden of the Royal Privy.

It is so, My Lord.

We thank thee, Egbert,
for thy work in Edinburgh.

We relieve thee of thy heavy task,

and give the dukedom to our cousin,
Hastings. Many happy returns, Tom.

I have discharged
the duties of Juniper!

Chiswick, fresh horses!
We ride at once to rebellious Stoke,

where it is my sworn intent
to approach the city walls,

bare my broad buttocks,



and shout, "Behold,
I honour thee most highly!"

(Fanfare and cheering)

It could've been worse, My Lord.

I thought you might lose the privy!

No!

It...will...not...do!

Er, no, My Lord, you're right.

I must clear away
the chaff from my life,

then let shine forth
the true wheat of greatness!

- Do it at once, My Lord!
- Very well.

Percy, you are dismissed
from my services.

Me? Why?

Because, Percy,

far from being a fit consort
for a prince of the realm,

you would bore the leggings
off a village idiot!

You ride a horse rather less well
than another horse would.

Your brain would make a grain
of sand look large and ungainly.

And the part of you
that can't be mentioned,

I am reliably informed,
wouldn't be worth mentioning,

even if it could be!

If you put on a floppy hat
and a furry codpiece,

you might pass as a fool,
but since you wouldn't know a joke

if it got up
and gave you a haircut,

I doubt it! So you are dismissed!

- Oh, I see.
- And as for you, Baldrick...

- My Lord?
- You're out, too.

Fair enough.

Will you go back
to shovelling dung in the gutter?

- Shouldn't think so.
- No?

No, it took me years
to get that job.

I'll muck out the lepers
or something.

Really?

It'll be years before
I get back to shovelling dung.

- Get out of my way!
- Going on a journey, My Lord?

No, I'm going to
stand here all day.

So you'll need a horse-tender?

If I did, I wouldn't take you!
Look at you!

What is your profession?

One, two, three! One, two, three!

My God! A retired morris dancer!
That's all I need!

If you can keep up,
you can come. Hah!

Here he comes now.

Oh, my God!

(Irish accent)
So, Sir Wilfred Death,

your tyranny is now at an end.

Prepare to be strung by your
codlings and bound on that tree.

Never!

(Screams)

(Groaning)

Sir Wilfred Death.

Edmund.

I'm looking for some men
to take over the kingdom.

How many have you got so far?

So, we are agreed -

he who wins takes the horse.

There is our mark.
You shoot first.

Yeah. That's good.

So good, in fact,

I'm going to have to...

..cheat.

Three-fingered Pete!

Good evening...

and surrender.
Your money or your life.

Here. Take it.
It's all the money I have.

Thank you.

Now, let me pass.

Damn! I'm always doing this.

Did I say,
"Your money or your life"?

- You did.
- Sorry. Slip of the tongue.

Your money and your life.

Sorry.

Thanks, Ned. See you Thursday.

- Guy!
- Wilfred!

Now, what we need
is a real bastard!

Sean, the Irish bastard!

(Cork pops)

Pity the blind, sir.

Pity the blind, kind sir.

'Ere! Business is
very quiet this morning!

Aye, everyone's gone to lunch.

Sean! (Pop!)

Friar, I fear greatly
for her chastity.

Alas, such is
the way of the world.

The sweetest rose too often is...

plucked too soon.

Yes. I wondered...

if you would take her
while I'm gone.

Yes. The answer is yes.

I shall.

Friar Bellows! (Pop!)

Doing the Lord's work?

I'm administering extreme unction!

So, who shall be
our seventh, Wilfred?

Need I say? Jack!

Not Mad Bully-boy Jack,
grave-robbing assassin of Aldwych?

- No.
- Then Crazed Animal Jack,

the cattle-rustling cannibal
from Sutton Coldfield?

No.

Then yer man Saint Jack O'Hooligan,

the man-hatin' goat-murderer
of Dingle Bay?

- No.
- Surely not Canon Jack Smulley,

senior Archdeacon, entrail-eating
heretic of Bath and Wells?

No.

I'm talking
of Unspeakably Violent Jack,

the bull-buggering beast-killer
of no fixed abode.

Are you sure he's the kind of chap
we're looking for?

Yes!

And here he comes.

What do you think you're doing?

- Are you with us, Jack?
- Aye!

..so I kissed her on her left foot!

(Drunken laughter and cheering)

Tell me, Jack,
what is your second name?

Large. Jack Large!

Then in our band,
you shall be known as Large Jack!

Why?

Well...because you are so little.

Why not Little Jack, then?

Well, because Large Jack
is more amusing.

- Is it?
- Very well, then - Little Jack.

Do you wish to mock my size?

N-N-No! Of course not.
Um, innkeeper!

- Some more beer!
- Hurray!

Six large beers...

and, er...and another large beer!

Hurray!

- Let us then go onto the plan.
- Ah, the plan!

First, a motto for our enterprise.

- Blessed are the meek...
- (All) Eh?!

..for they shall be slaughtered!

- Hurray!
- Wait, wait! The plan!

- The plan!
- I thought it was the plan.

Let's get those meek bastards now!
(Cheers)

Quiet!

Who wants quiet? I want chaos!

And slaughter!

And flowers...

- (All) What?
- ..mercilessly crushed underfoot!

- Silence!
- Silence!

Silence!

Peace! The word of the Lord!

For Christ's sake,
let's hear the plan!

Very well. The plan is simple.

- Not cunning?
- Get on with the plan!

Well, it's cunning
in its simplicity.

Tonight I ride for home.

I say strike now
while the iron is hot!

But the iron isn't hot!

- Isn't it?
- No, it's just...

er, warming up. But when it is hot,
then we will strike.

Do we have to wait till summer?

- No, when the iron is hot.
- What iron?

- Right. I shall send for you all.
- How?

- Well, by a message, a sign.
- What sort of sign?

Well, um...
something black...probably.

- Black pudding?
- Not quite.

A messenger
with the black plague, perhaps?

- That's better.
- He means to kill us!

No, I mean a messenger
with black...hair.

Ahh!

- A black-headed messenger!
- That's it.

And when he comes to you,
drop whatever you are doing,

and speed with haste
to Jasper's Tavern.

- How is old Jasper?
- Dead.

- How?
- I killed him.

Then, I shall take you
to the castle

where we will capture the King
and the Queen and the Prince.

Hurray!

I'll say,
"The Kingdom of Albion is ours!"

Hurray!

"You are doomed
to lives of exile. Get out!"

Exile?

Yes, exile! For life!

But why don't we just kill them?

Well...I suppose
we could kill them...Yes!

(Enthusiastic growls)
Wait! Wait till I send the sign.

By a messenger
with blackheads all over his face!

How do we know it isn't a trap?

Because...the Black Adder
gives you his word.

We want your word,
not this Black Adder fellow's!

But...I am the Black Adder.

- Ohh.
- Oh, I see.

And when all is done,

the Black Seal shall rule England.

Hurray!

We few! We happy few!

We band of ruthless bastards!

Hurray!

- All for one...
- ..and each man for himself!

(Laughter)

You're in a merry mood, My Lord!

Oh, yes. No-one can stop me now!

- No-one?
- No, no-one!

Except perhaps...

No, not even him.

And who might that be, My Lord?

Well...there was a man.

Philip of Burgundy...

known to his enemies as...

the Hawk.

We were deadly childhood rivals.

Although, of course, in those days
he was known as the Thrush!

No-one's heard of him for years.

Well, come on. Let's go.
We've got work to do.

Not so fast, Edinburgh!

This Hawk - did he
look something like...this?

Mmm... Not really, no.

Oh, my God! Philip of Burgundy!

Known to my enemies as...

..the Hawk!

But...but your horse...
used to be a huge, brown...

Yes. Yes, that's the one.

Well...it's been
very good to see you, er...Phil!

- This time, not fast enough!
- What do you want with me?

I'll tell you later!

I return at last after 15 years.

And what have you been up to?

Waiting, nurturing my hatred
and planning my revenge.

So you've kept yourself busy?

Yes. 15 years in France
teaches a man to hate.

15 years of wearing perfume!

15 years of eating frogs!

15 years of saying "par-don"!

- And all because of you!
- But surely...the scenery...

I never went outside. The smell!

What has this got to do with me?

Because, Edmund,
it is going to take you 15 years

to die!

- 15 years?
- Yes!

How?

It'd be more amusing
if you found out yourself.

But it has something to do with...

..snails.

Argh!

Where are you going?

To kill the royal family

and claim the throne
that isn't mine by right!

Dear Lord,

who made the birds and the bees,

and the snails, presumably,

please help me,

a little animal, too,
in my despair.

I have been a sinner,

but now I intend to follow
the path of the saints,

particularly
the very religious ones.

In the name of the Father, Son,
and Holy Ghost, amen.

- Amen!
- What?

- Amen, I said!
- Argh!

Did I get it wrong? I haven't
heard that word for 20 years.

Who are you?
I didn't realise I had company!

"Company"? I haven't heard
that word for 20 years either!

Or "realise"! I'd forgotten!

- Realise!
- You're not mad, are you?

Yes, I'm very mad, thank you. Mad!

That's the words I know.
I say them every day.

I say, "How are you, Mad Gerald?"

I say,
"I'm completely mad, thank you."

"Not much change, then, Gerald?"

"No, you'd be mad to expect any."

- Right...
- I am mad!

- I'm Mad Gerald!
- Quiet! Ssh!

Look, this may seem
a stupid question...

Question, yes.

..but do you know if
there's a way out of here?

A way out?

(Manic laughter)

(Manic laughter continues)

A way out, you say?

I haven't heard those words
- a way out - for...ooh...

- 20 years?
- Yes! Yes, 20 years.

Not like Mr Rat.

- I'm always saying, "Mr Rat".
- Who?

Mr Rat!

I tend to say,
"Good morning, Mr Rat.

"How are you today?"
And he says, um...

"Meep, meep, meep, meep!"

(Water drips)

(Laughs again)

No, you mustn't be rude
about Mr Rat. He's my best friend.

Eek!

- Yes.
- Eek-eek!

Well...

There's him and there's Mr Key.

- What?
- Mr Key!

I made him...out of my own teeth.

Good morning, Mr Key.

(Gerald)
Close the bloody door!

Stop! Stop!
Where are you going?

I'll tell you where.

Wherever I can sell
these six black homing pigeons.

Black homing pigeons?

Well, mostly.

- How much are they?
- Six shillings.

Oh, damn!

If you beat me
and tied me to that tree,

you could have 'em for less!

Right.

At the striking of ten bells,

I shall claim the throne.
(Pop!)

(Bong!)

(Bong!)

(Bong!)

Ssh!

Ha-ha!

Ha-ha!

Ssh!

(Hiccups)

Gentlemen, to what
do I owe this pleasure?

(Someone is running up the stairs)

To me, Burgundy!

Edmund! I had not expected
to see you again.

No. Dead men don't tend
to make social calls!

- Prepare to die!
- Wait!

Let me say just one last thing.

If these men are indeed
as they seem,

the six most evil men
in the land...

They are!
Your last sentence, please?

They've made an odd choice
for their leader,

Lord Warden of the Privy!

What? You think
they should've chosen you, Thrush?

(All laugh) A man twisted
by unbridled ambition.

(All)
Huh?

A man tortured
by insatiable greed!

(All)
Oh?

- The most evil man in the world!
- Oh!

They should've chosen you?

- (All) Yes!
- But he's a mindless killer!

- Hurray!
- He'll destroy the kingdom!

- Hurray!
- He murdered his own family.

- Who didn't? I killed mine.
- I killed mine!

- And I killed yours.
- Did you?

- Yes.
- Good on you, Father!

- Are you with me, then?
- Yes!

Prepare to die!

Wait! I have
a more...amusing method.

Amusing for whom, I wonder?

Gentlemen!

(All gasp in wonder)

- Bravo!
- Well done!

In precisely one minute,

the spike will go up your nethers.
(Cheering)

The shears will cut off your ears!

- Both of them?
- Yes.

These axes
will chop off your hands.

I do not think
we need go into the attributes

of the codling grinder!

These feathers here will tickle you
under what's left of your arms.

And that is the amusing part!

(Cheering)

Gentlemen, let us slaughter
the rest of the royal family.

- God save the King!
- (All) 'Cos nobody else will!

Stop! Let us relieve these wenches
of their delightful burden,

and drink a toast
to our enterprise.

May good thrive!

(All)
Over our dead bodies!

(All)
Aaagh!

Mmm, it's got a bit
of a sting in its tail!

(Edmund)
Urrgh!

Eeegh!

Ha-ha-ha...

- Oh, Edmund!
- Edmund!

Edmund!

He lives!
(Cheering)

Father...

You called me Edmund!

Sorry. Edgar! How are you?

Not so well.

Harry...

..what do you think my chances are?

- Oh, good. Good.
- He will live?

Hmm? Oh, no. I thought you meant
your chances of going to heaven.

Oh, damn...

Never fear, my son.

Your body may be mutilated
beyond recognition,

but your spirit will live forever!

My Lords...

- What did you say?
- I give you Edgar!

I told you to poison
the Black Seal's goblets,

not the whole vat!

What is it?

The Black Dagger!

- (All) The Black Dagger!
- (Faintly) Adder!

May his name
last as long as our dynasty!

Good Lord!

I wonder if it was the wine...

No. Seems perfectly all right to me.

And now, at last,

I shall be King of E...

# So now the wage of sin is paid

# The blade has stuck
The black steed grazes

# The only sound across the glade

# Is Edmund pushing up the daisies

# Black Adder

# Black Adder

# A shame about the Plan

# Black Adder

# Black Adder

# Farewell, you horrid man #

Don't drink the wine!