Blackadder Series 3 Episode 6 is called Duel and Duality. With Stephen Fry acting as the Duke of Wellington, this is a loud, brash, and hilarious episode, with some memorable one-liners and quotes. Check out the full script below.
Blackadder Series 3 Episode 5 is called Amy and Amiability. In this episode, Blackadder comes close to being shot by a transvestite on an unrealistic grassy knoll. Here is the full script for this great episode of Blackadder.
Blackadder Series 3 Episode 5 – Amy and Amiability Full Script
E: Edmund Blackadder
PR: Prince Regent George
A: Miss Amy Hardwood
H: Mr. Hardwood
SC: Sally Cheapside
DC: The Duke of Cheapside
S: The Shadow
MM: Mrs. Miggins
The Palace Kitchens
(Baldrick is plucking a goose. Blackadder is sitting at the kitchen
E: Oh God! Bills, bills, bills. One is born, one runs up bills, one dies!
And what have I got to show for it? Nothing. A butler’s uniform and a
slightly effeminate hairdo! Honestly Baldrick, I sometimes feel like a
pelican – whichever way I turn, I’ve still got an enormous bill in
front of me. Pass the biscuit barrel. (Baldrick does so) Let’s see
what’s in the kitty shall we? (shakes out a few coins) Ninepence! Oh
God, what are we going to do?
B: Don’t worry Mr B., I have a cunning plan to solve the problem.
E: Yes Baldrick, let us not forget that you tried to solve the problem
of your mother’s low ceiling by cutting off her head.
B: But this is a really good one. You become a dashing highwayman, then
you can pay all your bills and, on top of that, everyone’ll want to
sleep with you.
E: Baldrick, I could become a prostitute and pay my bills, then
everyone would want to sleep with me – but I do consider certain
professions beneath me. But besides which, I fail to see why a common
thief should be idolised, just because he has a horse between his legs.
B: My favourite’s the Shadow. (Admiringly) What a man! They say he’s
half-way to being the new Robin Hood.
E: Why only half-way?
B: Well he steals from the rich, but he hasn’t got round to giving it
to the poor yet. Look! I’ve got a poster of him.
(Baldrick holds up a poster which reads “Wanted for Hanging, The Shadow.
E: Baldrick, I have no desire to get hung for wearing a silly hat. If I
want to get rich quick, all I have to do is go upstairs and ask Prince
Fathead for a rise.
(The Prince rings.)
E: Oop! The bank’s open!
The Prince’s Lounge
E: Good morning sir. May I say how *immensely* rich you’re looking?
Now, was there anything you wanted? Anything at all? Absolutely
PR: Well yes, old fellow, I was wondering if you could possibly lend me
a bit of cash.
E: But of course sir. I- cash?
PR: Yes, I’m rotten stinking stoning stinking broke!
E: But sir, what about the five thousand pounds that Parliament voted
you only last week to drink yourself to death with?
PR: All gone I’m afraid. You see, I’ve discovered this terrifically fun
new game. It’s called “cards”. What happens is, you sit round the
table with your friends, and you deal out five “cards” each, and then
the object of the game is to give away all your money as quickly as
possible. Do you know it?
E: Vaguely sir, yes.
PR: All the chaps say I’m terrific at it.
E: I seem to remember I was very bad at it. I always seemed to end up
with more money than I started with.
PR: Yes, well, it’s all down to practice. I’m a natural apparently. The
only drawback, of course, is that it’s pretty damned expensive. So,
basically, I was wondering if you could lend me a couple of hundred.
E: I’m afraid that’s impossible sir. I’m as poor as a church mouse
that’s just had an enormous tax bill on the very day his wife ran off
with another mouse, taking all the cheese.
PR: Well what am I going to do?
E: Yes, it’s a difficult one.
E: Let’s see now. You can’t borrow money, you’re not going to inherit
any money and obviously you can’t earn money. Sir, sir, drastic
situations call for drastic measures. If you can’t make money, you’ll
have to marry it.
PR: Marry? Never! I’m a gay bachelor, Blackadder. I’m a roarer, a
rogerer, a gorger and a puker! I can’t marry, I’m young, I’m firm
PR: Well, yes, I suppose so.
E: And don’t forget, sir, that the modern Church smiles on roaring and
gorging within wedlock, and indeed rogering is keenly encouraged.
PR: And the puking?
E: Mmm, I believe still very much down to the conscience of the
PR: Well yes, tally-ho then Blackadder. Yes, you fix it up. You know
the kind of girls I like, they’ve got to be lovers, laughers, dancers…
E: And bonkers!
PR: That goes without saying!
(Blackadder is leafing through a book, while in the background Baldrick is
pulling the giblets out of his bird.)
E: Oh God!
B: Something wrong, Mr B.?
E: I can’t find a single person suitable to marry the prince.
B: Oh please keep trying. I love a royal wedding. The excitement, the
crowds, the souvenir mugs, the worrying about whether the bride’s
E: Unlikely with this lot I’m afraid. If the prince had stipulated
“must weigh a quarter of a ton” we’d be laughing. Of the 262
princesses in Europe, 165 are over 80, they’re out, 47 are under 10,
they’re out, and 39 are mad.
B: Well they sound ideal.
E: Well they would be if they hadn’t all got married last week in
Munich to the same horse. Which leaves us with two.
B: And what about them?
E: Well, there’s Grand Duchess Sophia of Turin. We’ll never get her to
B: Why not?
E: Because she’s *met* him.
B: Which leaves?
E: Caroline of Brunswick as the only available princess in Europe.
B: And what’s wrong with her?
E: “Get more coffee! It’s horrid! Change it! Take me roughly from
behind! No, not like that, like this! Trousers off! Tackle out! Walk
the dog! Where’s my presents?”
B: (flustered) All right! Which one do you want me to do first?
E: No, that’s what Caroline’s like. She is famous for having the worst
personality in Germany. And as you can imagine, that’s up against some
pretty stiff competition.
B: So you’re stuck then.
E: Yes, I’m afraid I am. Unless, oh unless! Pass me the paper Baldrick
quick. (he opens the paper) Baldrick, why has half the front page been
B: I don’t know.
E: You do know, don’t you?
E: You’ve been cutting out the cuttings about the elusive Shadow to put
in your highwayman’s scrapbook haven’t you?
B: Oh, I can’t help it Mr B. His life is so dark and shadowy and full
of fear and trepidation.
E: So is going to the toilet in the middle of the night, but you don’t
keep a scrapbook on it.
B: (surprised) I do.
E: Let’s see. Now let’s see, society pages. You see, it needn’t
necessarily be a princess. All the Prince wants is someone pretty and
B: Oh dear, that rules me out then.
E: Now, let me see. “Beau Brummel in purple pants probe.” “King talks
to tree. Phew what a loony!” God, the Times has really gone downhill
recently hasn’t it! Aha. Listen to this, listen to this: “Mysterious
Northern beauty, Miss Amy Hardwood, comes to London and spends
flipping great wadges of cash!” That’s our baby!
The Prince’s Bedroom
(Blackadder is brushing down the Prince’s jacket.)
PR: Honestly Blackadder, I don’t know why I’m bothering to get dressed.
As soon as I get to the Naughty Hellfire Club I’ll be debagged and
radished for non-payment of debts.
E: Radished, sir?
PR: Yes, they pull your breeches down and push a large radish right up
E: Yes, yes, yes, all right. There’s no need to hammer it home.
PR: Well as a matter of fact they do often have to-
E: No, no! No! Your em, your money worries are, are, are over sir.
PR: Well hoorah for that!
E: I have found you a bride. Her name is Amy, daughter of the noted
industrialist, Mr Hardwood.
PR: Oh dammit Blackadder, you know I loathe industrialists. Sad,
balding, little proles in their “damn your eyes” whiskers. All puffed
up just because they know where to put the legs on a a pair of
E: Eh, believe me, these people are the future. This man probably owns
half of Lancashire. His family’s got more mills than, than you’ve got
PR: How many mills?
E: Seven sir.
PR: Quite a lot of mills then.
E: Yes. He has patented a machine called “The Ravelling Nancy”.
PR: Mmm, what does it do?
E: It ravels cotton sir.
PR: What for?
E: That I cannot say sir. I am one of these people who are quite happy
to wear cotton, but have no idea how it works. She is also a beauty,
PR: Well if she’s gonna be my bird, she’d better be! Right, so what’s
E: Well I thought I could take her a short note expressing your
PR: Yes, yes, I think so too. All right then, well take this down. Eh,
“From His Royal Highness, the Prince of Wales to Miss Amy Hardwood.
Tally-ho my fine saucy young trollop! Your luck’s in! Trip along here
with all your cash, and some naughty night attire, and you’ll be
staring at my bedroom ceiling from now till Christmas, you lucky tart!
Yours with the deepest respect etc, signed George. PS Woof woof!”
Well, what do you think?
E: It’s very *moving* sir. Would you mind if I change just one tiny
aspect of it?
PR: Which one?
E: The words.
PR: Oh yes, I’ll, I’ll, I’ll leave the details to you Blackadder. Just
make sure she knows I’m all man… with a bit of animal thrown in.
E: Certainly sir. (Scores out the Prince’s letter)
The Home of Amy Hardwood
E: From his Royal Highness the Prince of Wales to Miss Amy Hardwood:-
“The upturned tilt of you tiny wee nosy, smells as sweet as a great
big posy.” Fanciful stuff of course madam, but, but from the heart.
A: He says my nosy is tiny ?
E: And wee, madam.
A: Well he must be an awful clever clogs, because you see, my nosy is
tiny, and so wee, that I sometimes think the pixies gave it to me!
E: He continues. “Oh Lady Amy, queen of all your sex.” I apologise for
the word, madam, but Prince George is a man of passion.
A: Oh, don’t worry, I can get pretty cross myself sometimes. Tell me
Mr. Blackadder, I’ve heard a teensy rumour that the Prince has the
manners of a boy cow’s dingle dangle. What do you have to say to that?
E: Oh, that is a lie madam. Prince George is shy and just pretends to
be bluff and crass and unbelievably thick and gittish, whilst deep
down he is a soft little marshmallowy, pigletty type of creature.
A: Oh I’m so glad, because you see, I’m a delicate tiny thing myself,
weak and silly and like a little fluffy rabbit. So I could never marry
a horrible heffalump, or I might get squished. Tell me, when can I
meet the lovely Prince?
E: (surprised) You want to meet him?
A: Well if we’re going to get married I think I probably ought to. I
know! Tell him to come and serenade me tonight. I’ll be on my balcony
in my jim-jams.
E: Certainly madam.
(Mr Hardwood enters.)
H: Ay up! Who’s this big girl’s blouse then ?
A: Father, this is Mr. Blackadder, he’s come a-wooing from the Prince.
E: You have a beautiful and charming daughter, sir.
H: Indeed I do. I love her more than any pig, and that’s saying summat!
E: It certainly is.
H: And let me tell you, I’d no more place her in the hands of an
unworthy man than I’d place my John Thomas in the hands of a lunatic
with a pair of scissors.
E: An attitude that does you credit sir.
H: I’d rather take off all my clothes and paint my bottom blue than
give her to a man who didn’t love her!
E: What self-respecting father could do more ?
H: On the other hand, if he’s a prince, he can have her for ten bob and
a pickled egg.
E: I can see where your daughter gets her ready wit, sir.
H: I thank you.
E: Although where she gets her good looks and charm is perhaps more of
H: No one ever made money out of good looks and charm.
E: You obviously haven’t met Lady Hamilton, sir. (bows slightly and
(Baldrick is forcing stuffing into his goose.)
E: I tell you Baldrick, I’m not looking forward to this evening. Trying
to serenade a light fluffy bunny of a girl in the company of an
arrogant half German yob with a mad dad.
B: Well, he is the Prince of Wales.
E: Have you ever been to Wales, Baldrick?
B: No, but I’ve often thought I’d like to.
E: Well don’t, it’s a ghastly place. Huge gangs of tough sinewy men
roam the valleys terrifying people with their close harmony singing.
You need half a pint of phlegm in your throat just to pronounce the
placenames. Never ask for directions in Wales Baldrick, you’ll be
washing spit out of your hair for a fortnight.
B: So, eh, being Prince of it isn’t considered a plus? (hammers a large
orange into the goose)
E: I fear not, no. But the crucial thing is that they must never be
left alone together before the marriage.
B: But isn’t that a bit unfair on her?
E: Well it’s not exactly fair on him either. The girl is wetter than a
haddock’s bathing costume. But you know Baldrick, the world isn’t
fair. If it was, things like this wouldn’t happen would they? (hits
Baldrick around the back of the head)
Under Amy’s Balcony
(The Prince and Blackadder are hiding behind some bushes. They speak in
PR: All right, so what’s the plan? Shin up the drain and ask her if
she’ll take delivery of your consignment of German sausage?
E: No sir, as we rehearsed, poetry first, sausage later.
PR: Right. So what do you think? “Harold the Horny Hunter” should do
E: Just remind me of it, sir?
PR: (loudly) “Harold the Horny hunter, had an enormous horn…”
E: Shh yes yes. It is absolutely excellent sir, however, might I
suggest an alternative? (hands the Prince a poem)
PR: “Lovely little dumpling, how in love I am. Let me be your
shepardkins, you can be my lamb.” Well, I think we’ll be very lucky if
she doesn’t just come out onto the balcony and vomit over us, but
still, let’s give it a whirl.
E: Just stand right here sir. Right. Call for her romantically.
PR: Right. (shouts) Oy! Come on out here, you rollicking trolloping
PR: Woof woof!
(Amy appears on the balcony. Blackadder grabs the Prince, covering his mouth.)
A: Is that you?
E: Y-y-yes, yes ’tis I, your gorgeous little love bundle.
A: Oh George, I think you must be the snuggly wuggliest lambkin in the
whole of Toyland.
PR: Yuch! (Blackadder silences him again)
A: What was that?
E: Am, em. Nothing, there was just a little fly in my throaty. Yuch!
A: Do you want a hanky-wanky to gob the phlegmy wemmy woo into? (she
leans over the balcony, pulling a handkerchief from the top of her
PR: Phwoah! Crikey!
A: Oh, what was that? Is there someone down there with you?
E: No, no, no, it was just the wind whistling through the trees and
making a noise that sounded like “phwoaaaah.. crikeeeeee”.
A: Oh joy! Then come Prince Cuddlykitten, climb up my ivy.
PR: Sausage time! (strides forward)
A: There is someone down there with you!
E: Oh my God, yes, yes, so there is, a filthy intruder spying on our love.
A: Oh hit him George, hit him!
E: Very well. (whispers to the Prince) Would you mind screaming, Your
Highness. (loudly) Take that. (punches him in the face) And that!
(knees him in the groin) And that! (hits his back; the Prince falls to
A: Oh, oh, oh you’re so brave! And I’m so worn out with all the
excitement that I’d better go sleepy-bo-bos, otherwise I’ll be all
cross in the morning. Nighty-night Georgy Porgy!
E: Nighty-wighty Amy-wamy. (she vanishes; to the Prince) I think it
worked, sir. In the morning I shall go in and ask her father; you go
out and start spending his money. I can’t stand meanness when it comes
to wedding presents. And well done sir, you were brilliant.
PR: Was I?
E: Yes sir.
PR: But I’m in agony!
E: Well, that’s love for you.
The Home of Amy Hardwood
E: Sir, I come as emissary of the Prince of Wales with the most
splendid news. He wants your daughter Amy for his wife.
H: Well his wife can’t have her! Outrageous, sir, to come here with
such a suggestion! (stands up angrily) Why, sir, or I shall take off
my belt and by thunder me trousers will fall down!
E: No sir. Sir, you misunderstand. He wants to marry your lovely
H: Ah, ah. (falls back into his chair, amazed) Can it be possibly true?
Surely love has never crossed such boundaries of class? (clutches
A: But what about you and Mum?
H: Well yes, yes, I grant thee when I first met her I was the farmer’s
son and she was just the lass who ate the dung, but that was an
A: And Aunty Dot and Uncle Ted.
H: Yes, yes alright, he was a pig poker and she was the Duchess of
A: And Aunty Ruth and Uncle Isiah, she was a milkmaid and he was-
H: The Pope! Yes, yes, all right. Don’t argue. Suffice it to say if you
marry we need never be poor or hungry again. Sir, we accept.
E: Good. So obviously you’ll be wanting an enormous cer-e-mon-y- what
did you say?
H: Well obviously, eh, now we’re marrying quality, we’ll never be poor
or hungry again.
E: Meaning that you’re poor and hungry at the moment?
H: (with feeling) Oh yes! We’ve been living off lard butties for five
years now. I’m so poor I use my underpants for drying dishes.
E: So you’re skint?
E: Well in that case, the wedding’s off. Good day.
A: Oh but what about Georgy’s lovey-wovey poems that won my
E: All writteny witteny by mewee I’m afraidy-waidy. Goodbye.
The Prince’s Lounge
E: Sir, you know I told you to go out and spend a lot of money on
wedding presents, well appar-
PR: (sitting amongst a huge collection of glittering objects) Yes?
(Blackadder enters, putting on a large black cape.)
E: Crisis Baldrick, crisis! No marriage, no money, more bills! For the
first time in my life I’ve decided to follow a suggestion of yours.
Saddle Prince George’s horse.
B: Oh sir, you’re not going to become a highwayman, are you?
E: No, I’m auditioning for the part of Arnold the Bat in Sheridon’s new
B: Oh, that’s all right then.
E: Baldrick, have you no idea what irony is?
B: Yeah, it’s like goldy and bronzy, only it’s made of iron.
E: Never mind, never mind, just saddle the Prince’s horse.
B: That’ll be difficult, he wrapped it round that gas lamp in the
Strand last night.
E: Well saddle my horse then.
B: What d’you think you’ve been eating for the last two months?
E: Well go out into the street and hire me a horse.
B: Hire you a horse? For ninepence? On Jewish New Year in the rain? A
bare fortnight after the dreaded horse plague of old London Town? With
the blacksmith’s strike in its fifteenth week and the Dorset horse
fetishists fair tomorrow?
E: Right, well get this on then. (hands Baldrick a bridle and bit) It
looks as though you could do with the exercise.
Robbing the Cheapside Coach
SC: Honestly Papa. Ever since Mother died you’ve tried to stop me
growing up. I’m not a little girl, I’m a grown woman. In fact I might
as well tell you now Papa: I’m pregnant, and I’m an opium fiend, and
I’m in love with a poet called Shelley who’s a famous whoopsy, and
Mother didn’t die, I killed her!
DC: Oh. (cheerily) Well, never mind.
E: (off-screen) Stand and deliver! (the coach starts to pull up)
DC: Oh no! Oh no no no no no, disaster! It’s the Shadow. We’re doomed,
E: (draws up outside the window) Ah, good evening Duke, and the lovely
Miss Cheapside. Your cash bags please. (the Duke hands him a bag of
money) There we are.
DC: You’ll never get away with this, you scoundrel, you’ll be caught
and damn well hung!
SC: (to camera) I think he looks pretty well-
E: Madam, please, no jests about me looking pretty well hung already,
we have no time.
E: Now sir, turn out your pockets.
DC: Never sir. A man’s pockets are his own private kingdom. I’ll
protect them with my life!
E: Oh I see, you’ve got something embarrassing in there have you?
Perhaps a particularly repulsive handkerchief, hmm? One of those
fellows who has a big blow and then doesn’t change it for a week?
Let’s have a look shall we? (takes the handkerchief and pulls out a
SC: Highwayman, I also have a jewel. I fear however that I have placed
it here, beneath my petticoats, for protection.
E: Well in that case madam, I think I’ll leave it. I’m not sure I fancy
the idea of a jewel that’s been in someone’s pants. A single kiss of
those soft lips is all I require.
DC: Never sir! A man’s soft lips are his own private kingdom. I shall
defend them with my life.
E: I’m not talking to you, Grandad.
SC: (kisses him long and hard) Oh, I’m overcome. Take me with you to
live the life of the wild rogue, cuddling under haystacks and making
love in the branches of tall trees!
E: Madam, sadly I must decline. I fear my horse would collapse with you
on top of him as well as me!
B: (appears next to Blackadder, wearing his harness) I could try!
E: No Quicksilver, you couldn’t.
B: But that’s not fair then. I’ve had you on my back for ten miles and
I haven’t even got a kiss out of it.
E: Oh alright, very well then. (kisses Baldrick) All fair now?
B: Not really, no.
E: Teh, no pleasing some horses. Hi-ho Quicksilver.
SC: (accusingly) Papa, you did nothing to defend my honour.
DC: Oh shut your face, you pregnant junky fag-hag!
A Grassy Knoll in the Forest
E: Well Baldrick, a good night’s work I think. It’s time to divide the
loot, and I think it’s only fair that we should share it equally.
B: Which I suppose is highwayman’s talk for you get the cash, I get the
E: No, no. No, we did this robbery together, so you get half the cash.
(hands him a money-bag)
B: Oh, thank you Mr B.
E: This robbery, on the other hand, I’m doing alone. (holds his pistol
to Baldrick’s head) Hand it over, your money or your life! (Baldrick
complies) You see? All fair and above board.
B: Fair enough. As long as I haven’t been cheated, I don’t mind.
S: Hands up! I am the Shadow and I never miss.
E: Oh no.
S: You, the one that looks like a pig.
E: He’s talking to you Baldrick.
S: Skedaddle. (Shoots at Baldrick’s feet; Baldrick runs away) So who
have we here? (takes off Blackadder’s cap) Well, a well set up fellow
indeed. Sir, a kiss.
E: Sorry, I’m not sure I heard that correctly.
SH: Oh dear, maybe your ears need unblocking. (holds his gun to
E: Oh I see, a kiss, oh of course, of course, of course, and then
perhaps a little light supper, some dancing, who, who knows where it
(The Shadow wraps his cloak around Blackadder, kisses him, and then sweeps
off his cap revealing long golden hair – it is Amy Hardwood.)
E: Good lord! It’s you!
A: (deep Shadow voice) Of course.
E: But your voice, it’s-
A: (normal voice) Clever, isn’t it?
E: Does your father know you’re out?
A: He had to go.
E: You mean he’s dead?
A: Yes, dead as that squirrel!
E: Which squirrel? (she shoots a squirrel, which falls with an “eep”
and a thud) Oh, that squirrel. Of course, you killed him for ruining
your chances of marrying Prince George.
A: Huh, I despise the Prince. Don’t you know it’s you I want? I want a
real man. A man who can sew on a button. A man who knows where the
towels are kept. And yes, I crave your fabulous sinewy body.
E: Well, you’re only human.
A: Here’s the plan, brown eyes. You rob the Prince of everything he’s
got, right down to the clothes he’s standing in. I’ll get my stash and
meet you here and then we’ll run away to the West Indies.
E: Well I don’t know I’ll have to think about it. (pause) I’ve thought
about it, it’s a brilliant plan. I’ll see you here tomorrow.
(Amy shoots another squirrel – “eep”, thud.)
E: (finishing loading up a barrow of valuables) Right, I’m off.
B: Oh sir, but what about the danger? Look, the reward is going up day
by day. (holds up a poster, “Reward 5000 pounds”)
E: Pah! I laugh in the face of danger. I drop ice cubes down the vest
of fear. Things couldn’t be better Baldrick. She’ll get me abroad and
make me rich, then I’ll probably drop her and get two hundred
concubines to share my bed.
B: Won’t they rather prickly?
E: Concubines Baldrick, not porcupines.
B: Oh. I still can’t believe you’re leaving me behind.
E: Oh, don’t you worry. When we’re established on our plantation in
Barbados, I’ll send for you. No more sad little London for you
Balders, from now on you will stand out in life as an individual.
B: Will I?
E: Well of course you will, all the other slaves will be black.
(Blackadder starts to wheel out his barrow; Mrs. Miggins rushes in.)
MM: Oh! Mr Blackadder, oh, what’s all this I hear about you buying a
bathing costume and forty gallons of coconut oil? Are you going abroad
E: Yes, I’m off.
MM: Oh sir, what a tragic end to all my dreams. And I’d always hoped that
you’d settle down and marry me and that together we might await the
slither of tiny Adders. (she sobs against Blackadder’s chest)
E: Mrs M., if we were the last three humans on Earth, I’d be trying to
start a family with Baldrick!
On a Grassy Knoll
E: Well, here I am, all packed and ready to go.
A: Oh darling, I’m so pleased to see you, and I’ve got a little surprise
for you. Close your eyes and open your mouth.
E: (does so) Mmmm.
A: (points her pistol in Blackadder’s mouth) Ha, ha. Hand over the loot,
E: Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. I, I always said the bedrock of a good
relationship was being able to laugh together. Good, well done. So,
which way to Barbados?
A: You’re not going to Barbados. Get away from the cart, Mr Slimey, or
I’ll fill you so full of lead we could sharpen your head and call you
E: This is turning into a really rotten evening.
A: Yes, well you better make the most of it, because it’s your last.
And it’s a pity, because it’s usually against my principles to shoot
E: Except squirrels?
A: Yes! Bastards! I hate them with their long tails and their stupid
twitchy noses. (shoots two squirrels, “eep”, “eep”) I shall return at
midnight to collect the loot, when I’ll fill you so full of holes I
could market you as a new English cheese! (Shadow voice) Ha ha ha ha
E: Oh God! What a way to die! Shot by a transvestite on an unrealistic
(Baldrick wanders up.)
B: Morning Mr B.
E: Bal- Baldrick? Baldrick! Thank you for introducing me to a genuinely
B: What experience is that?
E: Being pleased to see you! Now what are you doing here, you revolting
B: I’ve come for the Shadow’s autograph. You know I’m a great fan of
E: Yes, yes, just untie me Baldrick, come on.
B: What, has he gone? Oh what a pity, I wanted him to autograph my new
poster. Look, his reward has gone up to ten thousand pound.
E: Good lord, ten thousand pounds.
E: That gives me an idea. Baldrick, take this cartload of loot back to
the palace and meet me back here at midnight, with ten soldiers, a
restless lynch mob and a small portable gallows.
The Prince’s Bedroom
(Blackadder enters with the Prince’s breakfast tray.)
PR: Aha, brekkers! I could eat fourteen trays of it this morning and
still have room for a dolphin on toast!
E: Any particular reason for this gluttonous levity sir?
PR: Well, what do you think Blackadder, I’m in love! I’m in love, I’m
in love, I’m in love. Oh Amy, bless all ten of your tiny little
pinkies. Oh, let’s see what’s in the paper. (reads) Oh my God, she’s
been arrested and hanged!
E: (casually) Oh really?
PR: It turns out she was a highwayman!
E: Teh, these modern girls.
PR: Apparently someone tipped off the authorities and collected the ten
thousand pound reward. What a greasy sneak. Oh, if only I could get my
hands on him.
E: Teh, you can’t trust anyone these days sir.
PR: It says here that she had an accomplice.
(Alarmed, Blackadder drops the breakfast tray.)
PR: But they don’t know who it was.
(The tray flies back up unto Blackadder’s hands.)
PR: Amy, Amy, Amy, I shall never forget you, never ever, ever ever!
(sobs into his pillow) Right, what’s for breakfast?
E: Kedgeree, sir.
PR: Great. Actually, come to think of it Blackadder, I didn’t need to
get married anyway. I’ve got pots of money.
PR: Mmm. The most extraordinary thing happened. I was a bit peckish
during the night, so I nipped downstairs to the biscuit barrel.
E: (worried) The biscuit barrel?
PR: And do you know what I found inside? (Blackadder nods despairingly)
Ten thousand pounds that I never knew I had! I’ve got so much money
now I don’t know what to do with it!
E: How about a game of cards sir?
PR: Excellent idea!
Blackadder Series 3 Episode 4 is called Sense and Senility. Enormous trousers and an heroic stance are needed, and don’t mention Macbeth!
Blackadder Series 3 Episode 4 – Full Script
The Palace Kitchens
(Blackadder walks in. Baldrick looks up from polishing a shoe.)
B: You look smart, Mr. Blackadder. Going somewhere nice?
E: No, I’m off to the theatre.
B: Don’t you like it then?
E: (sarcastically) No, I don’t! A load of stupid actors strutting around,
shouting, with their chests thrust out so far, you’d think their
nipples were attached to a pair of charging elephants! And the *worst*
thing about it is having to go with Prince *Mini-Brain*!
B: What, doesn’t he like it, either?
E: No, no, he loves it. The problem is that he doesn’t realise it’s *made
up*. Last year, when Brutus was about to kill Julius Caesar, the
Prince yelled out, “Look behind you, Mr. Caesar!”.
B: I don’t see a point in the theatre. All that sex and violence. I get
enough of that at home. Except for the sex, of course.
E: While we’re out, Baldrick, I want you to give this palace a good
*clean*. It’s so dirty, it’ll be unacceptable to a dung-beetle that
had lost interest in its career and really let itself go.
(The Prince calls out.)
PR: Come on, Blackadder, or we’ll miss the first act!
E: (in a loud voice) Coming, sir, as fast as I can… Stick the kettle
(Actors Keanrick and Mossop are performing.)
K: Now Sir, give I this advice to thee: Never never trust thine enemy.
(Keanrick fake-stabs Mossop under the armpit; Mossop dies dramatically.
The Prince watches raptly; Blackadder completely disinterestedly.)
K: Thy life is forfeit… (kicks Mossop, who is still dying noisily) Thy
life is forfeit, sir, and at an end, like our poor play. We hope it
pleased you, friends.
(Applause, except from the Prince’s box.)
PR: Certainly not, you murdering rotter! Guards, arrest that man!
E: Your Highness, it’s only a play.
PR: Oh, well, that’s all very well, but that about the poor fellow who’s
*dead*? Saying it’s only a play will not feed and clothe the little
ones he leaves behind! (shouts) Call the militia!
E: But sir, he’s not dead. See, he stands, awaiting your applause.
PR: Oh, I say, that’s very clever. He really isn’t dead. (shouts and
applauds) Oh Bravo! Bravo!
K: (mutters to Mossop) Blast, the Prince likes it!
M: Oh shit, we’ll close tonight.
A: Right, everybody out! Smash the Spinning Jenny! Burn the
rolling Rosalind! Destroy the going-up-and-down-a-bit-and-then-moving-
along Gertrude! And death to the stupid Prince who grows fat on the
(He tosses a lighted bomb to the Prince. The audience scream and run for
cover, except the Prince.)
PR: I say, how exciting! This play’s getting better and better! Bravo!
E: (voice from behind Prince) It’s not a play anymore, sir. Put the bomb
down and make your way quietly to the exit.
PR: Blackadder, you old thing, your problem is you can’t tell when
something’s real and when it’s not! (the bomb blows up)
The Prince’s Lounge
(The Prince’s head is wrapped up in bandages, with some band-aids on his
PR: I must say, Blackadder, that was a close shave! Why on earth would an
anarchist possibly want to kill *you*?
E: I think it might’ve been *you* he was after, sir.
PR: Oh hogwash! What on earth makes you say that?
E: Well, my suspicions were first aroused by his use of the words, “Death
to the stupid Prince!”
PR: It was a bit rude, wasn’t it?
E: These are volatile times, your Highness. The American Revolution lost
your father the Colonies, the French Revolution murdered brave King
Louis and there are tremendous rumblings in Prussia, although that
might have something to do with the sausages. The whole world cries
out, “Peace, Freedom, and a few less fat bastards eating all the pie.”
PR: Well, yes, quite, something must be done! Any ideas?
E: Yes sir. Next week is your royal father’s birthday celebrations. I
suggest that I write a brilliant speech for you to recite to show the
oppressed masses how unusually sensitive you are.
(Blackadder holds a vial of smelling-salts under the Prince’s nose.)
G: PPHHHGGTTT! Well, tell me about these “oppressed masses”, what are
they so worked up about?
E: They’re worked up, sir, because they’re so poor, they’re forced to
have children simply to provide a cheap alternative to turkey at
Christmas. Disease and depravation stalk our land like.. two giant..
stalking things. And the working man is poised to overthrow us.
(Baldrick enters carrying a mop.)
PR: Oh my God, and here he is!
E: Don’t be silly, sir. That’s Baldrick, my dogsbody.
G: What’s silly about that? He looks like an oppressed mass to me. Get
him out of here at once!
E: Shoo, Baldrick, carry on with your cleaning elsewhere. And by the end
of tonight, I want that dining table so clean I can eat my dinner off
PR: Cripes, Blackadder, I’m dicing with death here. The sooner I can show
how unusually sensitive I am, the better. (burps) Oh, I just had
another brilliant thought.
E: (sceptically) Another one, Your Highness?
PR: Yes, another one, actually! You remember that one I, I had about, uh,
wearing underwear on the outside to save on laundry bills? Well, what
I’m thinking to myself is, “Hello, why don’t we ask those two actor
chappies we saw tonight to teach me how to recite your speech?”
E: No, Your Highness, feeble.
E: I would advise against it. It’s a *feeble* idea.
PR: Well, tish-and-pish to your advice, Blackadder! Get them here at once!
Damn it, I’d fed up with you treating me as if I’m sort of like some
kind of a thickie! It’s not me that’s thick, it’s you and you know
why? Because I’m a bloody Prince and you’re only a *butler*. And now
go and get those actors here this minute, Mr. Thicky-Black-Thicky-
Mrs. Miggins’ Coffee-Shop
E: Mrs. Miggins, I’m looking for a couple of actors.
MM: Well, you’ve come to the right place, Mr. B. There’s more
Shakespearian dialogue in here than there are buns! (laughs) All my
lovely actors pop in on their way to rehearsals for a little cup of
coffee and a big dollop of inspiration.
E: You mean they actually rehearse? I thought they just got drunk, stuck on a silly hat and trusted to luck.
MM: Ohhh no. There’s ever so much hard work that goes into the wonderful
magic that is theatre today. Haa-haa… still I don’t expect you’d
know much about that, being only a little butler. (laughs and pinches
E: They do say, Mrs. M, that verbal insults hurt *more* than physical
pain. (holds up a three-pronged fork) They are, of course, *wrong*, as
you’ll soon discover when I stick this toasting fork in your head.
(Actors Keanrick and Mossop enter.)
M: (from outside) Ladies and gentlemen, will you please welcome Mr. David
MM: (squeals as usual) Oh hurrah!
(Keanrick enters, followed by Mossop.)
M: And the fabulous Mr. Enoch Mossop.
MM: (applauds, continues to swoon) Gentlemen, gentlemen!
K: Settle down, settle down, settle down.
M: I’m sorry, no autographs.
K: The usual, Mrs. M.
MM: OOoooohh, coming up, my lovely.
E: (noticing there’s no one surrounding the actors) Ahh, if I can just
squeeze through this admiring rabble… (mimes wading through a crowd)
Gentlemen, I’ve come with a proposition.
M: How dare you, sir. You think, just because we’re actors, we sleep with
E: I think, being actors, you’re lucky to sleep with *anyone*. I come
here on behalf of my employer, to ask for some elocution lessons.
K: Haa-ha, I fear, that is quite impossible. We are in the middle of
rehearsing for our new play. We cannot possibly betray our beloved
audience by taking time off.
M: Oh no, mustn’t upset the punters. Bums on seats, laddie, bums on seats.
E: And what play is this?
M: It is a piece we penned ourselves, called “The Bloody Murder of the
Foul Prince Romero and His Enormous-Bosomed Wife”.
E: A philosophical work then.
K: Indeed yes, sir. The violence of the murder and the vastness of the
bosom are entirely justified artistically.
E: Right, I’ll tell the Prince that you can’t make it.
E: Sorry, yes. Didn’t I mention that? It’s the Prince Regent. Sorry you
can’t make it. So…
M: No, no, no, no please, no. Please wait, sir. (to Keanrick, who is
clutching at him) Off, off! I think we can find some time, do you not,
K: Definitely, Mr. Mossop.
E: No, no, you’ve got your beloved audience to think about.
K: Sod the proles! We’ll come.
M: Yes, worthless bastards to a man.
E: It’s nice to see artistic integrity thriving so strongly in the
theatre. Well, this afternoon at four then, at the Palace. (exits)
The Prince’s Lounge
(The Prince is wearing a long cape and a false moustache.)
PR: Well, what do you think?
E: Are you ill or something?
PR: No, I’m simply trying to look more like an actor.
E: Well, I’m sure you don’t need the false moustache.
E: No. (tears off the Prince’s moustache)
PR: Oowwwwh! (bumps into a cabinet; Baldrick emerges clutching a
feather-duster) Egads, it’s that oppressed mass again! (starts to
E: No sir, that is Baldrick spring cleaning.
PR: Oh yes, so it is.
E: Ummpf, finish the job later, Baldrick.
B: Very well sir. The cleaning or the being strangled?
E: Either suits me.
PR: Look Blackadder, this is all getting a bit hairy, isn’t it? I mean,
are you sure we can even trust these acting fellows? Last time we went
to the theatre, three of them *murdered* Julius Caesar, and one of
them was his best friend, Brutus.
E: As I’ve told you about *eight* times, the man playing Julius Caesar
was *an actor* called Kemp.
E: (sharply) Yes!
PR: Thundering gherkins! Well, Brutus must have been pretty miffed when he
E: (very sharply) What?
PR: That he hadn’t killed Caesar after all, just some poxy actor called
Kemp. What, d’you think he went round to Caesar’s place after the play
and killed him then?
E: Oh, God, it’s pathetic!
(There is a rapping at the door. Blackadder walks down the stairs.
Baldrick looks up from his silver-polishing.)
B: Is that the door?
E: Oh, don’t worry, it’s just the actors.
(Continued rapping. Blackadder pours himself a cup of tea.)
B: My uncle Baldrick was in a play once.
B: Yeah, it was called *Macbeth*.
E: And what did he play?
B: Second codpiece… Macbeth wore him in the fight scenes.
E: So he was a stunt codpiece. (sips his tea) Did he have a large part?
B: Depends who’s playing Macbeth.
E: Oh, incidentally, Baldrick – actors are very superstitious. On no
account mention the word *Macbeth* this evening, alright?
B: Why not?
E: It brings them bad luck and it makes them very unhappy.
B: Oh, so you won’t be mentioning it either?
E: No… well, not very often.
The Prince’s Lounge
E: You should have knocked.
K: Our knocks, impertinent butler, were loud enough to wake the hounds of
(The actors give Blackadder their hats.)
K: (to Mossop) Lead on, McDuff.
M: I shall…
(They enter. Blackadder dumps their hats on the floor and kicks them into
M: ..lest you continue in your quotations and mention the name of the
K: Oh-ho… never fear, I shan’t do that. (laughs)
E: By the “Scottish Play”, I assume you mean *Macbeth*.
(The actors perform a ritual warding off of bad luck.)
As: Aahhhhh! (slapping each others hands, pat-a-cake fashion) Hot potato,
off his drawers, pluck to make amends. (pinch each others noses)
E: What was that?
K: We were exorcising evil spirits. Being but a mere butler, you will not
know the great theatre tradition that one does *never* speak the name
of the “Scottish Play”.
E: What, *Macbeth*?
As: Aahhhhh! Hot potato, off his drawers, pluck to make amends. Ohhh!
E: Good lord, you mean you have to do *that* every time I say *Macbeth*?
As: Aahhhhh! Hot potato, off his drawers, pluck to make amends. Owwww!
M: Will you please stop saying *that*! Always call it the “Scottish
E: So you want me to say the “Scottish Play”?
E: Rather than *Macbeth*?
As: Aahhhhh! Hot potato, off his drawers, pluck to make amends. Owwwwww!
(Prince George enters.)
PR: For heaven’s sake, what is all this hullabaloo, all this shouting and
screaming and yelling blue murder? Why… it’s like that play we saw
the other day, what was it called… umm..
E: *Macbeth*, sir?
As: Aahhhhh! Hot potato, off his drawers, pluck to make amends. Owwwwww!
PR: No, no, it was called Julius Caesar.
E: Ah yes, of course. Julius Caesar… not *Macbeth*.
As: Aahhhhh! Hot potato, off his drawers, pluck to make amends. Owwwwww!
E: Are you sure you want these people to stay?
PR: Course, I asked them, didn’t I, Mr. Thicky-Butler.
K: Your Highness, may I say what a great honour it is to be invited?
PR: Why certainly.
K: Thank you. (dramatically) What a great honour that it is to be invited
here to make merry in the halls of our King’s loins’ most glorious
K: Now, Your Highness, shall we begin straight away?
PR: Absolutely, yes. Now, I’ve got this… um…
M: Now, before we inspect the script, let us have a look at stance.
K: Yes. The ordinary fellow stands like well… as you do now.
M: Whereas your hero… stands thus.
(The actors assume a heroic stance – legs spread wide, hips thrust
forwards. The Prince follows suit.)
PR: Right. Well, that’s sort of like this…
K: Excellent, Your Highness. Even more so…
PR: What, oh, like that? (Even wider, standing as if on a ledge. A creak
sounds.) What was that noise?
M: It wasn’t *me*! We are used to standing in this position.
PR: It came from over here. (opens a trunk to find Baldrick) Anarchist!
PR: So you’ve had a wash, that’s no excuse! (starts strangling Baldrick
E: (Enters, amidst the screams) No sir, that is Baldrick spring cleaning.
PR: But he’s, look, he’s got a bomb!
E: That’s not a *bomb*, sir, that’s a sponge.
PR: Oh yes, so it is. Well, get it out of here at once before it explodes.
(Exit Baldrick, carrying the sponge very gingerly at arm’s length.)
PR: (continuing) Um, now, stance. I’m sorry about that. I think we really
had something there, too.
K: Oh yes, Your Highness. Why, your very posture tells me, “Here is a man
of true greatness.”
E: Either that or “Here are my genitals, please kick them.”
M: Sir, I really must ask that this ill-educated oaf be removed from the
K: Yes! Get out sir. Your presence here is as useful as fine bone china
at a tea-party for drunken elephants.
PR: Is that right? Well, yes, hang it all, get out Blackadder, and stop
corking our juices.
E: Certainly, Your Highness. I’ll leave you to dribble in private.
(Blackadder enters, fuming, and kicks a bucket down the stairs.)
B: Is something wrong, Mr. B.?
E: (angrily) I just about had it up to here with at that Prince. One more
insult, and I’ll be handing in my notice.
B: Oh, does that mean I’ll be butler?
E: Not unless some kindly passing surgeon cut your head open with a spade
and sticks a new brain in it.
B: Oh, right.
E: I don’t know *why* I put up with it. I really don’t. Every year at the
Guild of Butlers’ Christmas Party, I’m the one who has to wear the red
nose and the pointy hat for winning the “Who’s-Got-The-Stupidest-
Master” Competition. Well, all I can say is, he’d better watch out!
One more foot wrong and the contract between us will be as broken as
B: But that milk-jug isn’t broken.
E: You really do walk into these things, don’t you. (Smashes the milk-jug
on Baldrick’s head.)
The Prince’s Lounge
(The Prince is practicing his heroic stance and face.)
M: Excellent. And now, sir, at last, the speech.
PR: Right. (unfolds his speech and prepares to read it) Ahemm..
K: No, no, no, no… Your Royal Highness. What have you forgotten?
PR: Oh now look, if I stand any more heroically than *this*, I’m in danger
of seriously disappointing my future Queen.
K: No, no, Your Highness, not the stance… the *roar*.
PR: You want me to roar?
M: Well, of course we wish you to roar. All the great orators roar before
commencing with their speeches. It is the way of things. Ah, Mr.
Keanrick, from your Hamlet, please.
K: Hh-hmm… (orates) OOOOoooohhhhh… To be or not to be.
M: From your Julius Caesar.
K: OoooHHHHOOOOHHH… Friends, Romans, countrymen…
(Blackadder enters, carrying a tray.)
M: From your leading character, in a play connected with Scotland.
E: That’s *Macbeth*, isn’t it?
As: Aahhhhh! Hot potato, off his drawers, pluck to make amends. Owwwwww,
M: (very nasally) Let’s all roar together, shall we? One, two, three…
(The actors and the Prince roar – the Prince’s roar being louder and
K: Excellent, Your Highness. Now shall we try putting it all together?
PR: (adopts his heroic stance, screws up his face) RRROOOAAAAHHHHHHhhh…
(glances at his speech) Unaccustomed as I am to public speaking…
K: No, no, no, alas, I fear you mew it like a frightened tree. May I see
the speech? (the actors mutter together, laughing) Who wrote this
(All look at Edmund.)
E: Is there a problem with the speech?
(The actors laugh.)
PR: Well, yes, there is a problem, actually. The problem is that you wrote
it, Mr. Hopelessly-Drivelly-Can’t-Write-For-Toffee-Crappy-Butler-Weed!
(The actors laugh again. There is a long pause, then Blackadder drops his
tray, obviously insulted.)
B: They want their supper, sir?
E: Yes, preferably something that has first passed through the digestive
system of the cat. And you’ll have to take it up yourself.
E: Because I’m leaving, Baldrick. I’m about to enter the job market.
(reads the newspaper) Right, let’s see… Situations vacant: Mr. and
Mrs. Pitt are looking for a baby-minder to take Pitt the Younger to
Parliament… there’s a fellow called George Stevenson has invented a
moving kettle… wants someone to help with the marketing… oh, and
there’s a foreign opportunity here. Treacherous, malicious,
unprincipled cad, preferably non-smoker, wanted to be King of
Sardinia. No time wasters please. By Napoleon Bonaparte, PO Box 1,
Paris. Right! We’re on our way!
The Prince’s Dining Room
M: Oh, ah, sir… about costume. Any thoughts?
PR: Well, enormous trousers, certainly. And I thought perhaps an Admiral’s
uniform, because we know what all the nice girls love, don’t we?
(They all laugh.)
PR: I’ll tell you what, why don’t I go and try them on for you?
M: Oh, super.
G: Help yourselves to wine. You’ll need a stiff drink when you see the
size of these damn trousers!
(The actors laugh again. The Prince leaves; the laughter dies abruptly.)
K: Oh, my dear, what a ghastly evening!
M: You’re so right, love.
K: Look, while he’s gone, why don’t we have a quick read-through of “The
Murder of Prince Romero and His Enormous-Bosomed Wife”?
M: Act 1, Scene 1?
M: Spring has come, with all its gentle showers. Methinks it’s time to
hack the Prince to death.
E: Baldrick, I would like to say how much I will miss your honest and
B: Aaahh, thank you Mr. B.
E: But as we both know, it’ll be an utter lie. I will therefore confine
myself to saying simply, “Sod off,” and if I ever meet you again,
it’ll be twenty billion years too soon.
(Blackadder walks out of the room…)
B: Goodbye, you lazy big-nosed, rubber-faced bastard.
(…but not out of earshot; he comes back in. Baldrick looks worried.)
E: I fear, Baldrick, that you will soon be eating those badly chosen
words. I wouldn’t bet you a single groat that you can survive five
minutes here without me.
B: Oh come on, Mr. B., it’s not as though we’re gonna get murdered or
anything the minute you leave, is it?
E: Hope springs eternal, Baldrick.
(Blackadder leaves; the bell rings.)
The Prince’s Dining Room
(The actors are still rehearsing their play. Baldrick opens the door and
K: Oooooaaahhh, let’s kill the Prince. Who will strike first?
M: Let me, and let this dagger’s point prick out his soft eyeball and sup
with glee upon its exquisite jelly.
K: Have you the stomach?
M: I have not killed him yet, sir, but when I do, I shall have the
stomach and the liver, too, and the floppily-doppolies in their horrid
K: If a servant shall hear us in our plotting?
M: Ah ha! Then shall we have servant sausages for tea!
K: And servant rissoles shall our supper be!
(Baldrick runs off in terror, in search of the Prince.)
The Prince’s Dressing-room
B: (shouting) Murder! Murder! The Revolution’s started!!
PR: (wearing a huge pair of trousers) What?!
B: A plot, a plot to kill you!
PR: Ah, so you’ve come clean at last, have you, you bloody little poor
B: No, look, the actors downstairs, they’re anarchists!
B: Yeah, I heard them plotting. They’re gonna poke out your liver, turn
me into rissole, and suck on your exquisite floppily-doppolies!
PR: Oh, what are we going to do?
B: Well, Mr. Blackadder says, “when the going gets tough, the tough hide
under the table”.
PR: Blackadder, of course! Where is he?
B: Oh, he’s in Sardinia.
PR: What? Why?
B: You were rude to him, so he left.
PR: Oh no! What a mad, blundering, incredibly handsome nincompoop I’ve
been! What are we to do? If we go downstairs, they’ll chop us up and
eat us alive! We’re doomed, doomed!
(Baldrick whines. Suspense music strikes up…)
PR: SHhh! Oh…
(Baldrick whimpers. We hear footsteps, getting closer. Baldrick and
George clutch each other. There is a creak, just before… Blackadder
E: Good evening, Your Highness.
PR: Oh, Blackadder.
E: Four minutes, twenty-two seconds, Baldrick. You owe me a groat.
PR: Thank God you’re here! We desperately need you!
E: Who, me, sir? Mr. Thicky-Black-Thicky-Adder-Thicky?
PR: Oh tish!
E: Mr. Hopelessly-Drivelly-Can’t-Write-For-Toffee-Crappy-Butler-Weed?
PR: Yes, I’m…
E: Mr. Brilliantly-Undervalued-Butler who hasn’t had a raise in a
PR: Take an extra thousand? Guineas? Per month?
E: All right. What’s your problem?
PR: Well look, the actors have turned out to be vicious anarchists! They
intend to kill us all!
E: What, are they going to *bore* us to death?
PR: No, no, no, stab us! Baldrick overheard them.
B: I did!
E: Are you sure they meant it, sir?
PR: Quite sure, Baldrick, how far apart were their legs?
B: Oh, this far. (spreads his legs)
PR: And their nipples?
B: That far. (indicates on his chest)
E: Alright, sir, I’ll see what I can do.
The Prince’s Dining Room
M: To torture him, I lust. Let’s singe his hair, and up his nostrils hot
E: Rehearsal’s going well, gentlemen?
M: Begone. A mere butler with the intellectual capacity of a squashed
apricot can be of no use to us.
K: Indeed yes, sir. Your participation is as irritating as a potted
cactus in a monkey’s pajamas.
E: Well, in that case, I won’t interrupt you any longer. Sorry to disturb
The Prince’s Dressing-room
(Baldrick and the Prince are cowering under the table.)
PR: Blackadder, thank God you’re safe! Well, what happened?
E: Sir, there was no need to panic. It was all perfectly straightforward.
E: They’re traitors, sir. They must be arrested, brutally tortured and
PR: Bravo! (bangs his head under the table)
The Prince’s Lounge
(Later. The actors are tied up with two Guards holding them.)
M: But Your Highness, there’s been a terrible mistake.
E: That’s what they were bound to say, sir.
K: It was a play, sir, a play! Look, all the words you heard written down
on that page.
E: Textbook, stuff again, you see. The criminals’ vanity always makes
them make one tiny, but fatal, mistake. Theirs was to have their
entire conspiracy printed and published in plain manuscript. (to
Guards) Take them away!
As: Mercy, we beg for mercy… please sir.
E: I have got only one thing to say to you… *Macbeth*!
As: Aahhhhh! Hot potato, off his drawers, pluck to make amends…
(The actors are led out.)
PR: Well done, Bladder! How can I ever thank you?
E: Well, you can start by not calling me “Bladder”, sir. (calls out)
(Distant sounds of the actors’ ritual drift in from outside…)
PR: Of course, Bladder. No sooner said than done. No hard feelings?
E: No sir. It’s good to be back in the saddle. Did I say saddle? I mean
PR: Bravo! So we’re the best of friends as ever we were.
E: Absolutely sir.
E: In fact now with the evil Mossop and Keanrick have got their
comeuppance, the Drury Lane Theatre is free. I thought we might
celebrate by staging a little play that I’ve written.
PR: Oh, what an excellent idea! And with my new found acting skills, um,
might there be a part in it for me, do you think?
E: I was hoping you might play the title role, sir.
PR: What a roaringly good idea! What’s the play called?
E: Thick Jack Clot Sits in the Stocks and Gets Pelted with Rancid
This is the full script for Blackadder Series 3 Episode 3. Nob and Nobility sees Blackadder get involved with the French Revolution in order to make a profit. And who is that elusive Pimpernel?
This is the full script for Blackadder Series 3 Episode 2. The Blackadder episode is called Ink and Incapability, and is centred around the thicky Prince being asked to be a patron to the first ever English dictionary. This gives Blackadder plenty of room to come up with some very memorable quotes!
The third series of Blackadder is set in a period of time known as the Regency. Blackadder has been reduced in social status to being the Butler of the Prince Regent. Baldrick is of course at the bottom of the social ladder, being a dogsbody once more. Episode 1 of Blackadder Series 3 is based upon an election in a rotten borough – not a rubber button.
Blackadder season 3 stars Rowan Atkinson, Tony Robinson, and Hugh Laurie. Blackadder is reduced to the status of butler, whilst Hugh Laurie plays a foppish Prince.
Blackadder Season 3
Blackadder series 3 is also known as Blackadder the Third. Set during the British Regency era, Blackadder is reduced in social status to being the butler of the Prince Regent.
Baldrick, in a strange irony, has actually been elevated in social status from a serf to a ‘dogsbody’. He is still the butt of many Blackadder jokes though!
Hugh Laurie in Blackadder Series 3
American fans of TV show House are always surprised to find that Hugh Laurie played a major role in Blackadder season 3.
As the foppish, stupid Prince Regent, his character is miles away from Dr. House!
Blackadder Series 3 – Blackadder the Third
The third series of Blackadder, is set in the late 18th and early 19th century period.
The ‘core’ group of other central characters in Blackadder Series 3, are completed with the Prince Regent, and Mrs. Miggins.
As with the other two series of Blackadder, each episode features a guest star.
Whilst each star is excellent in their own way, it is Stephen Fry as the Duke of Wellington who really stands out.
Blackadder the Third
Blackadder series 3 follows in the footsteps of series 2, by brilliantly blending great comedy with the contemporary issues of the time.
It is the source of many funny Blackadder quotes, in particular from the bumbling Prince Regent.
The way this character is played by Hugh Laurie is massively different from his other role as House, for which he is more famous in the United States.
Blackadder Series 3 Episode List
- Dish and Dishonesty
- Ink and Incapability
- Nob and Nobility
- Sense and Senility
- Amy and Amiability
- Duel and Duality
Full Cast List for Blackadder Series 3
- Rowan Atkinson – Edmund Blackadder, butler to the Prince / … (6 episodes, 1987)
- Tony Robinson – Baldrick, a dogsbody / … (6 episodes, 1987)
- Hugh Laurie – The Prince Regent, their master (6 episodes, 1987)
- Helen Atkinson Wood – Mrs. Miggins, a coffee shoppekeeper (6 episodes, 1987)
- Robbie Coltrane – Dr. Samuel Johnson, in the funny Blackadder dictionary episode(1 episode, 1987)
- Hugh Paddick – Keanrick, thespian (1 episode, 1987)
- Kenneth Connor – Mossop, thespian (1 episode, 1987)
- Stephen Fry – The Duke of Wellington, a famous soldier (1 episode, 1987)
- Vincent Hanna – Mr. Vincent Hanna, his own great great great grandfather (1 episode, 1987)
- Tim McInnerny – Lord Topper, fop (1 episode, 1987)
- Miranda Richardson – Amy Hardwood, the elusive Shadow (1 episode, 1987)
- Warren Clarke – Mr. Hardwood, her father (1 episode, 1987)
- Lee Cornes – Shelley, romantic junkie poet (1 episode, 1987)
- Gertan Klauber – King George III, a mad Monarch (1 episode, 1987)
- Denis Lill – Sir Talbot Buxomly, a member of Parliament (1 episode, 1987)
- Nigel Planer – Lord Smedley, fop (1 episode, 1987)
- Chris Barrie – Ambassador, a fearsome revolutionary (1 episode, 1987)
- Ben Elton – Anarchist (1 episode, 1987)
- Barbara Horne – Sally Cheapside, a young lady of doubtful virtue (1 episode, 1987)
- Simon Osborne – Pitt the Younger, the Prime Minister (1 episode, 1987)
- Steve Steen – Byron, romantic junkie poet (1 episode, 1987)
- Roger Avon – The Duke of Cheapside, her father (1 episode, 1987)
- Geoffrey McGivern – Ivor Biggun, a candidate (1 episode, 1987)
- Jim Sweeney – Coleridge, romantic junkie poet (1 episode, 1987)
- Dominic Martelli – Pitt the even Younger, a tiny whig (1 episode, 1987)