*
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!
These titles have been with you - Duke of Edinburgh and Warden of the Royal Privy.
Yes, 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.
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. 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 where I found you? Doubt it. No?
No, it took me ages 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! 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 OUT OF BOTTLE
POP!
↑ 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!
Well, 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 Barton 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!
INDISTINCT JOKE
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... Aye!
..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... and it's simplistic.
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-r-rdon"!
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 go, "How are you, Mad Gerald?"
Then I say, "I'm completely mad, thank you." "Not much change then, Gerald?" Right... I AM mad!
I'm Mad Gerald! Quiet! Ssh! Ssh!
Look, this may seem a stupid question... Question, yes.
..but you don't know if there's a way out of here, do you? 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...
beep, BEEP, beep, beep!
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.
'Close the bloody door!'
Stop! Stop! Where are you going?
I'll tell you where. Wherever I can sell these six black 'oming 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...
Sss!
Ha-ha!
Ha-ha! >
Sss!
POP!
Gentlemen, to what do I owe this pleasure?
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.
Ahh? A man tortured by insatiable greed! Ohh?
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!
WOH! 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. EEK!
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!
Ahh! Ahh! Ahh!
Mmm, it's got a bit of a sting in its tail!
G-R-R-U-R-R!
E-U-G-H!
Ah! Hah! Hah!
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, da-a-a-amn!
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! (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
# A shame about the Plan
# Black Adder
# Farewell, you horrid man. #
Subtitles by Judith Simpson BBC Scotland 1998