Black Adder IV, Episode 5
General Hospital
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(George, Edmund and Baldrick are in their room in the trenches)
George: I spy with my little eye (he looks behind his shoulder and sees a
mug) something beginning with `M'.
Baldrick: Erm...
George: (encouraging) MMM...
Baldrick: Erm...
George: (encouraging) MMM... (he bobs his head down to within inches of the
mug a few times)
Baldrick: Mmm...
(this carries on for a while)
George: MMMuh... (he picks up the mug and holds it in front of him)
Baldrick: Mmm...
Edmund: (wishing he could read his book in peace; can't stand this carrying
on any longer; shouts) MUG!!!
George: Oh, I say, well done, sir. Your turn.
Edmund: I spy with my bored little eye something beginning with `T'.
Baldrick: Breakfast!
Edmund: What?
Baldrick: My breakfast always begins with tea, and I have a little sausage,
and a egg with some little soldiers.
Edmund: Baldrick, when I said it begins with `T', I was talking about a letter.
Baldrick: Nah, it never begins with a letter; the postman don't come 'til
10.30.
Edmund: I can't go on with this. (stands) George, take over.
George: All right, sir. Erm, I spy with my litle eye something beginning
with `R'.
Baldrick: (raises his arm, even though he's the only one playing now) Army!
Edmund: For God's sake, Baldrick! `Army' starts with an `A'. He's looking for
something that starts with an `R'. RRRrrrrr!
Baldrick: Motorbike!
Edmund: What?
Baldrick: A motorbike starts with a `RRRRRrrrrrrrrrm! RRRRRRrrrrrrrrrr--'
Edmund: All right, right, right, right. My turn again. What begins with `Come
here' and ends with `Ow'?
Baldrick: I don't know.
Edmund: Come here.
(Baldrick moves closer to Edmund; Edmund punches Baldrick in the face)
Baldrick: Ow! (falls to the ground)
Edmund: Well done.
George: No (laughs), I don't think you've quite got the hang of this
game, to be honest, sir. I tell you what, let's try another one.
Erm, I hear with my little ear, er, something beginning with
`B'.
Edmund: What?
George: Bomb.
Edmund: I can't hear a bomb.
George: Listen very carefully.
(a bomb approaching whistle is heard)
Edmund: Ah yes.
(The bomb explodes)
(in hospital; George is wounded from that bomb and is talking to Nurse
Mary about a letter he's writing; Mary is massaging his foot)
George: Finished.
Mary: Come on, then.
George: All right, and then you can tell me what you think, but be honest,
now.
Mary: (giggly) I will!
George: All right, then. (reads) "Dear Uncle H., how are you?" (Nurse laughs)
Yeah, it's good isn't it? Erm, "It's beastly rotten luck being laid
up here, but everyone's very nice, and at least now I can write to
you every day." Oh, ahem, then I put in that silly bit about, er...
Mary: What? What?
George: No, it's, er...
Mary: Oh, come on, you can tell me.
George: "And the nurse is an absolute peach." (buries his face in the letter,
embarrassed) Anyway, "After the explosion, Captain Blackadder was
marvellous. He joked and joked. `You lucky lucky lucky bastard!' he
cried. Then he lay on his back, stuck his foot over the top of the
trench, and shouted, `Over here, Fritz! What about me? What about
me?' "
Mary: Well, Captain Blacky does indeed sound a most witty and courageous chap.
George: Yes, and he's very amusing and brave, as well. Not to mention he's as
clever as a chap with three heads!
(Mary stands, ruffles George's hair and fluffs his pillows)
George: Thanks ever so much. You really are terribly kind, as well as being
dash pretty to boot.
Mary: (having retrieved a teddy bear from behind the pillows) Oh dear.
A fluffy pillow and a big cheery smile is the least my lovely boyses
deserve. (gives George the teddy bear) Now, you take a little trip to
Dozy Land. (george takes the bear and begins sucking his thumb) You've
got visitors coming, and we don't want to be all tired and cross (??),
do we?
George: Absolutely not, no. It'll be so jolly to see Baldrick and the cap
again. They'll have been worried sick about me, you know.
(Edmund and Baldrick enter)
Edmund: All right, where is the malingering git?
George: Hello, Cap! Pip pip, Balders! Here I lie.
Baldrick: Nice to see the lieutenant looking so well, sir.
Edmund: Of course he's looking well -- there's nothing wrong with him.
George: Pff! (to Mary) Didn't I tell you the captain was a super (cope? [as
a made-up noun form of `copesetic'?])!
Mary: (bubbly) You did! (stands) Well, Captain, you are indeed fortunate to
have a loyal friend like darling Georgy.
Edmund: Mm, I think you might be under a slight misapprehension here, Nurse.
I lost closer friends than `Darling Georgy' the last time I was
deloused. Now, if you will excuse me, I've got better things to do
than exchange pleasantries with a wet blanket. Would you get out?
(Mary is agape)
Edmund: We've got some important military business...
Nurse: Well, ten minutes only, then. (leaves)
Edmund: Right, porkface, where's the grub? (sits in bedside chair)
George: Pardon?
Edmund: Come on, the moment that collection of inbred mutants you call your
relatives heard you were sick, they'll have sent you a hamper the
size of Westminster Abbey.
George: My family is not inbred!
Edmund: Come on, somewhere outside (Saffon-Waldon?) there's an uncle who's
seven feet tall with no chin and an Adam's apple that makes him
look as though he's constantly trying to swallow a ballcock.
George: I have not got any uncles like that! Anyway, he lives in
(Walton-on-the-Naise?).
Edmund: Well, exactly. Now, where's the tuck?
George: Well, there were one or two things, yes. There was, er, a potted
turkey, a (??) jelly, three tinned sheep, and, er, twelve hundred
chocolates. But, in my weakened state...
Edmund: Yes?
George: ...I, er, I ate them.
Edmund: What?
George: Well, Nurse Mary nibbled a trotter or two, but... Oh, Cap, she's such
a wonderful girl. She helps me with all my letters, she can do all the
German spelling and she's terribly good at punctuation.
Edmund: I don't care if she can sing `I May Be a Tiny Chimney Sweep, But I've
Got an Enormous Brush'. Come on, Baldrick -- the only thing we're
going to get for free around here is dysentery.
Baldrick: (softly) But, sir, I haven't given Lieutenant George my bunch of
flowers yet.
Edmund: Alright, hurry up, hurry up.
Baldrick: Here you are, sir, I got you these. (holds up some flower stems, sans
the actual flowers) Unfortunately, they've had their heads shot off.
Edmund: Whereas (??) say it with flowers, Baldrick says it with stalks.
(Mary enters during that line)
Mary: Well, Captain, I'm afraid you'll have to leave us now.
Edmund: Oh really?
Mary: Yes. You must report to General Melchett immediately.
Edmund: Oh great. Yet another tempting opportunity for suicide beckons.
George: Gosh, I wish I could come with you, you know, sir.
Mary: Oh no, you must take care, my brave hero. (puts hand on his forehead)
Edmund: `Brave hero', Nurse? I was more wounded the last time I clipped my
toenails.
Mary: (to George) Take no notice of him.
Edmund: (in a sarcastically sympathetic voice) Yes, pay no attention to the
nasty man.
Mary: Look, If I can't give my brave boys a kind word and a big smile, what
can I give them?
Edmund: Well, one or two ideas do suggest themselves, but you'd probably
think they were unhygenic.
(Mary leaves in huff, while another patient, Smith, limps in)
Edmund: Come on, Baldrick. (turns to Smith) Hello, what's your name?
Smith: (with German accent) My name is Mr Smith.
Edmund: I'm sorry that you've been landed opposite to such a total git, Smith.
It's bad enough to be wounded without having to share a ward with
Bananabrain.
Smith: Danke shoen, danke shoen; ich bin (gans?) comfortable. (??)
Edmund: (slightly puzzled) Yes... (leaves)
(in Melchett's office)
(knock at door)
Melchett: Enter.
(Edmund comes in, but finds the room apparently empty)
Edmund: (puts his hat down on the desk corner) Hello?
(The camera view changes to just behind the other side of the desk.
It's the view of a person. Edmund turns round and the view ducks
completely behind the desk for a moment before peeking up again.
Across the room, the legs behind a large map include human legs in
uniform. Edmund approaches the map. The person through whose eyes
we're witnessing this comes out from behind the desk and follows
Edmund across the room, and starts to breathe heavily. Edmund sees a
panel in the map and slides it open, revealing General Melchett's
face. Just then, our eyes' owner, Captain Darling, jumps Edmund
from behind. The camera view changes. Darling is holding his
revolver as he forces Edmund to the fireplace, where a fire is
burning.)
Darling: Right! Spread 'em! (he frisks Edmund, taking away his gun; he speaks
to Melchett) Right, he's clear, sir.
Melchett: Beah!
Edmund: Can anyone tell me what's going on?
Darling: Security, Blackadder.
Edmund: Security?
Melchett: (coming out from behind the map) `Security' isn't a dirty word,
Blackadder. `Crevice' is a dirty word, but `security' isn't.
Edmund: So, in the name of security, sir, everyone who enters the room has
to have his bottom fondled by this drooling pervert.
Darling: Only doing my job, Blackadder.
Edmund: Oh, well, how lucky you are, then, that your job is also your hobby.
Melchett: Now there's another dirty word: `job'!
Edmund: Sir, is there something the matter?
Melchett: You're damn right there is something the matter. (heads for desk)
Something sinister and something grotesque. And what's worse is that
it's going on right here under my very nose. (sits behind desk)
Edmund: (protesting) Sir, your moustache is lovely...
Darling: What the general means, Blackadder, is: There's a leak.
Melchett: Now `leak' is a positively disgusting word.
Darling: The Germans seem to be able to anticipate our every move. We send up
an aeroplane, there's a Jerry squadron parked behind the nearest
cloud; we move troops to (??), the Germans have bought the
whole town's supply of lavatory paper. In short: A German spy is
giving away every one of our battle plans.
Melchett: You look surprised, Blackadder.
Edmund: I certainly am, sir. I didn't realise we had any battle plans.
Melchett: Well, of course we have! How else do you think the battles are
directed?
Edmund: Our battles are directed, sir?
Melchett: Well, of course they are, Blackadder -- directed according to the
Grand Plan.
Edmund: Would that be the plan to continue with total slaughter until every-
one's dead except Field Marshal Haig, Lady Haig and their tortoise,
Alan?
Melchett: Great Scott! (stands) Even you know it! Guard! Guard! Bolt all the
doors; hammer large pieces of crooked wood against all the windows!
This security leak is far worse than we'd imagined!
Darling: So you see, Blackadder, Field Marshal Haig is most anxious to
eliminate all these German spies.
Melchett: Filthy Hun weasels fighting their dirty underhand war!
Darling: And, fortunately, one of *our* spies--
Melchett: Splendid fellows, brave heroes, risking life and limb for Blighty!
Darling: ...has discovered that the leak is coming from the Field Hospital.
Edmund: You think there's a German spy in the Field Hospital? I think you
might be right, there.
Melchett: Your job, Blackadder, is to root this spy out. How long do you think
you'll need?
Edmund: (looks at his watch) Ooh, er...
Melchett: You'll have to be away from the trenches for some time.
Edmund: Six months?
Darling: (??), Blackadder. You've got three weeks.
Melchett: Yes, three weeks to smoke the bugger out! Use any method you see
fit. Personally, I'd recommend you get hold of a cocker spaniel,
tie your suspect down on a chair, with a potty on his head, then
pop his todger between two flowery (bamps?) and shout, "Dinnertime,
Fido!" However, if you are successful, I shall need you back here
permanently, to head up my new security network, Operation Winkle.
Edmund: Winkle?
Melchett: Yes -- to winkle out the spies.
Darling: (upset that he wasn't offered the position) You never mentioned
this to me, sir!
Melchett: Well, we have to have some secrets, don't we, Darling...
Edmund: Right, well, I'll be back in three weeks. (takes his hat and revolver)
Melchett: Excellent. And if you come back with the information, Captain
Darling will pump you thoroughly in the debriefing room.
Edmund: Not while I have my strength, he won't. (exits, as Darling points at
him angrily)
Darling: Damnation, sir! His insolence makes my blood boil! Once more, I
don't trust him, sir. I think it would be best if I went to the
hospital myself, to keep an eye on him.
Melchett: What, spy on our own spy as he searches for their spy? Yes, why
not? -- sounds rather fun. You'll have to go under cover...
Darling: Oh, definitely, sir.
Melchett: You'll need some sort of wound, a convincing wound...
Darling: Naturally, sir.
Melchett: Yes. (shoots Darling in the foot; Darling screams and falls down,
his hand weakly poking up from behind the side of the desk) Yes,
that looks quite convincing. (Darling's hand finally falls behind
the desk)
(back in the room at the trenches)
Edmund: Right, pack me a toothbrush, Baldrick. We're going on holiday.
Baldrick: Hurray! Where to?
Edmund: Hospital.
Baldrick: Oh, no, I hate hostipals. My grandfather went into one, and when he
come out, he was dead.
Edmund: He was also dead when he went in, Baldrick. He'd been run over by a
traction engine.
Baldrick: I don't like them doctors. If they start poking around inside me--
Edmund: Baldrick, why would anyone wish to poke around inside you?
Baldrick: They might find me interesting.
Edmund: Baldrick, I find the Great Northern and Metropolitan Sewage System
interesting, but that doesn't mean that I want to put on some
rubber gloves and pull things out if it with a pair of tweezers.
Baldrick: Still, I tell you what, sir, you might have a chance to get to know
that pretty nurse. (tries to make a cute face)
Edmund: No, thank you, Baldrick. She's as wet as a fish's wet bits. I'd rather
get to know you.
Baldrick: I'm not available, sir. I'm waiting for Miss Right to come along and
gather me up in her arms.
Edmund: Yes, I wouldn't be too hopeful; we'd have to get her arms out of a
straightjacket first. Now get packing!
(at hospital; George is writing another letter, and reading it out to Mary
and Smith)
Smith: So very interesting! Please do continue. (??)
George: Right, then I go on to say, "The orders came through for us to
advance at 0800 hours in a pincer movement."
Mary: Gosh, how exciting!
George: Yes, well, hmm...
(enter Edmund)
Edmund: 'afternoon, George.
George: Ah, hello, Cap!
Mary: Ah, Captain. I hope you're going to conduct yourself with a little more
decorum this time.
Edmund: No, I am going to conduct myself with no decorum. Shove off!
(Mary leaves in a huff; Edmund waves his hat at Smith, to make him
leave the bedside)
Smith: (??), Herr Kapitan! (??)!
George: So, Cap, what's going on?
Edmund: Well, there's a German spy in the hospital and it's my job to find
him.
George: A Ger--? Well, snakes alive! Exciting stuff, eh? Wait a minute;
I think I might have a plan already.
Edmund: What is it?
George: Well, have a look through the list of patients and see if there's
anyone here whose name begins with `von'. Well, it's almost bound
to be your bloke!
Edmund: I think we may find that he's using a false name, actually, George.
George: Oh, crikey. Well, that's hardly fair, now, is it...
Baldrick: I, too, have a cunning plan to catch the spy, sir.
Edmund: Do you, Baldrick, do you...
Baldrick: You go round the hostipal and ask everyone, "Are you a German spy?"
Edmund: Yes, I must say, Baldrick, I appreciate your involvement on the
creative side.
Baldrick: If it was me, I'd own up.
Edmund: Of course you would. But, sadly, the enemy have not added to the
German Army Entrance Form the requirement "Must have intellectual
capacity of a boiled potato." Now, Baldrick, see that man over there?
(looks at Smith)
Baldrick: Yeah.
(Smith is looking at them through field glasses; he waves)
Edmund: I want you to stick to him like a limpet, and make sure he doesn't
leave the hospital.
Baldrick: Yes, sir.
(As Baldrick walks across to Smith's bed, Darling hobbles in, with
help from a cane)
Edmund: Hello, Darling. What are you doing here?
Darling: Bullet in the foot.
Edmund: Well, I can understand people at the front trying to shoot themselves
in the foot, but when you're 35 miles behind the line...
Darling: I did not shoot myself. The General did it.
Edmund: Well! Finally got fed up with you, did he?
Darling: No, it was a mistake.
Edmund: Oh, he was aiming for your head...
Darling: He wasn't aiming for anything.
Edmund: Oh, so he was going for between your legs, then.
Darling: Very funny, Blackadder. You'll be laughing on the other side of your
face if you don't find this spy.
Edmund: Don't you worry, Darling. I intend to start interviewing suspects
immediately.
(later, in another room in the hospital; Darling is tied to a chair, with a
potty on his head)
Darling: This is completely ridiculous, Blackadder! You can't suspect me. I've
only just arrived.
Edmund: The first rule of counterespionage, Darling, is to suspect everyone.
Believe me, I shall be asking myself pretty searching questions later
on. Now, tell me: What is the colour of the Queen of England's
favourite hat?
Darling: How the hell should I know?
Edmund: I see. Well, let me ask you another question: What is the name of the
German Head of State?
Darling: Well, Kaiser Wilhelm, obviously.
Edmund: (stands) So you're on first-name terms with the Kaiser, are you?
Darling: (shouts) Well, what did you expect me to say?
Edmund: Darling, Darling, shh... (offers) Cigarette?
Darling: (as Edmund puts cigarette in his mouth and begins to light it)
Thank you.
(pause)
Edmund: (suddenly knocks the cigarette out of Darling's mouth) All right, you
stinking piece of crap!
Darling: I beg your pardon?
Edmund: Shut your cakehole, sonny! I know you! Tell me, von Darling:
What was it finally won you over, eh? Was it the pumpernickel, or
was it the thought of hanging around with big men in leather shorts?
Darling: I'll have you courtmartialed for this, Blackadder!
Edmund: What, for obeying the general's orders? That may be what you do in
Munich -- or should I say Muechen? -- but not here, Wernher! You're
a filthy Hun spy, aren't you! (calls) Baldrick, the cocker spaniel,
please!
Darling: Agh! No! No, no, wait! No, look, I'm engaged! I was born in Croydon;
I was educated in (???) primary school; I've got a girlfriend called
Doris; I know the words to all three verses of God Save the King!
Edmund: (enjoying this) Four verses...
Darling: Four verses! Four verses! I meant four verses! Look, I'm as British
as Queen Victoria.
Edmund: So your father's German, you're half German, and you married a German?
Darling: (crying) No! No! Look, for God's sake, I'm not a German spy!!!
Edmund: Good. Thanks very much. Send in the next man, would you?
(Mary enters)
Mary: What is all this noise about? Don't you realise this is a hospital?
Darling: (stands, still tied to the chair) You'll regret this, Blackadder.
You'd better find the real spy or I'll make it very hard for you.
Edmund: (protesting) Please, Darling -- there are ladies present.
Darling: (?)
(Darling waddles out. Mary takes the potty off his head as he goes. Somewhere
down the hallway, a crash is heard accompanied by a scream from Darling.
Mary closes the door.)
Mary: Well, well, Captain Blackadder, this is an unexpected pleasure.
Edmund: What?
Mary: Nice to have you back with us. A spycatcher, eh? Huh! That silly
kid George was right -- you are a bally hero.
Edmund: Wait a minute. I thought you liked George.
Mary: That's just my bedside manner. What I call my `fluffy bunny act'.
Edmund: So you're not a drip after all.
Mary: Oh, no. So, Mr Spycatcher, how's it going?
Edmund: Well, not much luck so far. I think he might be as difficult to find
as a piece of hay in a massive stack full of needles.
Mary: So you're going to be around for quite a while, then.
Edmund: Looks like it.
Mary: Good, because, er, it can get pretty lonely round here, you know.
God, it's nice to have someone healthy to talk to. (offers) Cigarette?
Edmund: No, thank you. I only smoke cigarettes after making love. So, back in
England, I'm a twenty-a-day man.
Mary: (blows smoke in Edmund's face) A man should smoke. It acts as an
expectorant and gives his voice a deep, gravely, masculine tone.
Edmund: God, I love nurses; they're so digustingly clinical!
Mary: Tell me, Captain Blackadder...
Edmund: Edmund.
Mary: Edmund. When this war is over do you think we might get to know each
other a little better?
Edmund: Yes, why not? When this madness is finished, perhaps we could go
cycling together, take a trip down to the Old Swan at Henley and go
for a walk in the woods.
Mary: Yes, or we could just do it right now on the desk.
Edmund: (looks at the desk) Yeah, OK.
(in the ward; Smith hobbles in hurriedly, followed immediately by Baldrick)
George: Ah, Baldrick. Have you seen Nurse Mary? I need someone to post this
letter.
Baldrick: She's in the office with the captain, sir.
George: Ah, poor girl -- tied to her desk, day and night...
(Edmund enters)
George: Ah, Cap! I hear you've been seeing a lot of Nurse Mary.
Edmund: Yes -- almost all of her, in fact.
George: How is she, sir?
Edmund: Unbelievable!
George: (motions Edmund to come closer, then speaks softly) What I really want
to know is, are you any closer to finding the spy?
Edmund: Yes, I think I'm getting there, George. (looks across, calls)
Everything all right, Smith?
Smith: (Baldrick is in bed with him, reading a Punch magazine) Oh, ja,
excellent, excellent.
Edmund: Jolly good. (leaves)
George: Smithy, you haven't seen any suspicious characters hanging around,
have you, who might be German spies?
Smith: Nein.
George: (bewildered) Nine?! Well, the cap's got his work cut out, then.
(in the office, Mary and Edmund are in bed; Edmund is smoking)
Mary: Tell me, Edmund: Do you have someone special in your life?
Edmund: Well, yes, as a matter of fact, I do.
Mary: Who?
Edmund: Me.
Mary: No, I mean someone you love, cherish and want to keep safe from all the
horror and the hurt.
Edmund: Erm... Still me, really.
Mary: No, but, back home, in England, there must be someone waiting --
some sweetheart.
Edmund: Oh, a girl... Nah. I've always been a soldier -- married to the army.
The book of King's Regulations is my mistress, possibly with a
Harrod's lingerie catalogue discreetly tucked between the pages.
Mary: And no casual girlfriends...?
Edmund: Skirt? Hah! If only... When I joined up, we were still fighting
colonial wars. If you saw someone in a skirt, you shot him and
nicked his country. What about you? Have you got a man? Some fine
fellow in an English country village? A vicar, maybe? Quiet, gentle,
hung like a babboon...
Mary: There was a man I cared for a little. Wonderful chap -- strong,
athletic...
Edmund: What happened to him?
Mary: He bought it.
Edmund: I'm so sorry; I didn't realise that was the arrangement. (stands,
goes to desk) Erm, so what's it been? Twelve nights, let's say
nine afternoons... How much is--? Oh, and a couple of mornings...
Mary: I mean he died.
Edmund: (apologising only for his actions -- not the death) Oh, I'm sorry.
Mary: He was test-driving one of those new tank contraptions, and the bloody
thing blew up. What a waste. God, I hope they've scrapped the lot.
Edmund: Huh, fat chance! They're going to use forty of them next week at, oh,
sorry, I mustn't talk about that; you never know who might be
listening. (There is a black dot, possibly a hole, in the wall behind
him -- possibly the location of a microphone, or maybe it's just a
problem with the set.)
Mary: No, of course. Oh God, I miss him so much. He was such a wonderful chap.
Edmund: Clever, too, I expect.
Mary: Oh, brilliant.
Edmund: Went to one of the great universities, I suppose: Oxford; Cambridge;
Hull...
Mary: Mmm... But why are we making small talk when we could be making big
love?
Edmund: Good point. This could be our last chance; my three weeks are up.
I'm going back to staff HQ tomorrow. Look, why don't you come with me?
It could be fun. We could have supper or something.
Mary: How about something first, then supper?
Edmund: Good idea!
(in Melchett's office; Melchett enters to meet the waiting Edmund and Mary)
Melchett: Ah, hello, Blackadder...
Edmund: Good morning, sir. Er, may I introduce Nurse Fletcher-Brown. She's
been very supportive during my work at the hospital.
Melchett: How do you do, young lady? (chuckles) Do sit down. (he moans in pain
as he sits) So, any news of the spy, Blackadder?
Edmund: Yes, sir.
Melchett: Excellent! The Germans seem to know every move we make! I had a
letter from Jerry yesterday. It said, "Isn't it about time you
changed your shirts, Walrus-face?" So, do you have any ideas who
it might be, young lady?
Mary: Well, sir, I'm only a humble nurse, but I did at one point think it
might be Captain Darling.
Melchett: Well, bugger me with a fishfork! Old Darling, a Jerry morsetapper?
What on Earth made you suspect him?
Mary: Well, he pooh-poohed the captain here and said that he'd never find
the spy.
Melchett: Is this true, Blackadder? Did Captain Darling pooh-pooh you?
Edmund: Well, perhaps a little.
Melchett: Well then, damn it all, how much more evidence do you need? The
pooh-poohing alone is a court-martial offence!
Edmund: I can assure you, sir, that the pooh-poohing was purely circumstantial.
Melchett: Well, I hope so, Blackadder. You know, if there's one thing I've
learned from being in the army, it's never ignore a pooh-pooh.
I knew a major: got pooh-poohed; made the mistake of ignoring the
pooh-pooh -- he pooh-poohed it. Fatal error, because it turned out
all along that the soldier who pooh-poohed him had been pooh-poohing
a lot of other officers, who pooh-poohed their pooh-poohs. In the
end, we had to disband the regiment -- morale totally destroyed ...
by pooh-pooh!
(Mary has begun reading an Ideas magazine. During the next line,
she looks around nervously and puts the paper down, sitting on it)
Edmund: Yes, I think we might be drifting slightly from the point here, sir,
which is that, unfortuantely, and to my lasting regret, Captain
Darling is not the spy.
Melchett: Oh? And then who the hell is?
Mary: Well, sir, there is a man in the hospital with a pronounced limp and
a very strong German accent. It must be him. It's obvious.
Edmund: Obvious, but wrong. It's not him.
Melchett: And why not?
Edmund: Because, sir, not even the Germans would be stupid enough to field a
spy with a strong German accent.
Mary: Well then, who is it?
Edmund: Well, it's perfectly simple. It's you.
Mary: (gasps; stands) Edmund!
Edmund: (calls as he stands) Baldrick!
(Baldrick enters, pointing a rifle at Mary)
Melchett: (stands) Explain yourself, Blackadder, before I have you shot for
being rude to a lady!
Edmund: Well, sir, the first seeds of suspicion were sown when Lieutenant
George unwittingly revealed that she spoke German. Do you deny, Nurse
Fletcher-Brown -- or should I say Nurse Fleischer-Baum? -- that you
helped Lieutenant George with the German words in his letters?
Mary: No, I did, but--
Edmund: My suspicions were confirmed when she probed me expertly about tank
movements.
Murse: Oh, Edmund, how could you? After all we've been through.
Edmund: And then the final, irrefutable proof. Remember, you mentioned
a clever boyfriend...
Mary: Yes.
Edmund: I then leapt on the opportunity to test you. I asked if he'd been
to one of the great universities: Oxford, Cambridge, or Hull...
Mary: Well?
Edmund: You failed to spot that only two of those are great universities.
Mary: You swine!
Melchett: That's right -- Oxford's a complete dump!
Edmund: Well, quite. No true Englishwoman could have fallen into that trap.
Mary: Oh, Edmund, I thought there was something beautiful between us.
I thought you ... loved me.
Edmund: Nah... Take her away, Baldrick.
Baldrick: (?? [mispronouncing something in German, perhaps])
(Baldrick takes Mary out)
Melchett: Well, good work, Blackadder. Now I've got to assemble a firing
squad. (while Edmund warms himself by the fire, goes to his desk,
sits and picks up the telephone)
(Smith, in uniform, hobbles in. Darling runs up from behind)
Darling: Watch out, sir! (jumps on Smith, taking his revolver)
Melchett: Darling, what on Earth do you think you're doing?
Darling: I'll tell you exactly what I am doing, sir. I'm doing what Blackadder
should have done three weeks ago, sir.
Melchett: What?
Darling: This is the guilty man!
Melchett: Darling, you're hysterical.
Darling: No, sir! No, I'm not, sir! I'll ask him outright: Are you a spy?
Smith: Yes, I am a spy!
Darling: You see, sir??
Melchett: Well, of course he's a spy, Darling -- a British spy! This is
Brigadier Sir Bernard Proudfoot-Smith (Smith stands up straight,
showing that he in fact doesn't limp at all), the finest spy in
the British army!
Darling: b-But he can't be, sir; he, he doesn't even sound British.
Smith: (still sounding as German as ever) Unfortunately, I have been working
under cover in Germany for so long that I have picked up a teensy-
weensy bit of an accent.
Melchett: This, Darling, is the man who told us that there was a German spy in
the hospital in the first place.
Darling: Ah.
Melchett: Right. Well, that's that, then. Blackadder...
Edmund: Yes, sir?
Melchett: You are now head of Operation Winkle.
Edmund: Thank you, sir.
Melchett: Darling...
Darling: Yes, sir?
Melchett: You are a complete arse.
Darling: Thank you, sir.
Melchett: Right, Bernard, let's go watch the firing squad. (starts out)
Smith: (??), von General! (takes his revolver from Darling; leaves)
(George rushes in)
George: Sir, what the devil is going on? I've just seen Nurse Mary being led
away to a firing squad!
Edmund: Nurse Mary is the spy, George.
George: What? Y-- Impossible!
Edmund: Afraid so.
George: Well, cover me with eggs and flour and bake me for fourteen minutes.
Who'd have thought it, eh? Nurse Mary, a Boche nosepokerinner...
Ker! Oh well, lots of exciting stuff to put into my next letter to my
Uncle Hermann in Munich...
Edmund: Sorry?
George: Those letters I've been writing in the hospital, to my German uncle.
Darling: New information, Blackadder...?
Edmund: George...
George: Oh, yes, well, I know there's a war on, but family is family, and
old Uncle Hermie does so love to be kept abreast of what's going on.
I even wrote and told him about old walrus-face Melchett and his
smelly old shirts!
Darling: Would you like me to tell this one to the general, Blackadder, or
would you enjoy that very special moment?
(They race out, leaving George bewildered behind)
Captain Edmund Blackadder
ROWAN ATKINSON
Private S Baldrick
TONY ROBINSON
General Sir Anthony Cecil Hogmanay Melchett
STEPHEN FRY
Lieutenant The Honourable George Colthurst St. Barleigh
HUGH LAURIE
Captain Kevin Darling
TIM McINNERNY
--------------------------------------------------------------------------- Originally performed by: Rowan Atkinson as Captain Edmund Blackadder Tony Robinson as Private S Baldrick Stephen Fry as General Sir Anthony Cecil Hogmanay Melchett Hugh Laurie as Lieutenant The Honourable George Colthurst St. Barleigh Tim McInnerny as Captain Kevin Darling with special guest brass hat: Geoffrey Palmer as Field Marshal Sir Douglas Haig (in the trench, it's raining) George: Care for a smoke, sir? Edmund: No, thank you, I'm... (he lights his own pipe) George: Private? Baldrick: (taking cigarette from George) Oh, thank you, sir. (begins to eat the cigarette) George: Oh, dash and blast all this hanging about, sir! I'm as bored as a pacifist pistol. When are we going to see some action? Edmund: Well, George, I strongly suspect that your long wait for certain death is nearly at an end. Surely you must have noticed something in the air... George: Well, yes, of course, but I thought that was Private Baldrick. Edmund: Unless I'm very much mistaken, soon we will at last be making the final Big Push -- that one we've been so looking forward to all these years. George: Well, hurrah with highly polished brass knobs on! About time! (phone rings within Baldrick's backpack, Edmund answers it) Edmund: Hello; the Somme Public Baths -- no running, shouting, or piddling in the shallow end. Ah, Captain Darling. Tomorrow at dawn. Oh, excellent. See you later, then. Bye. (hangs up) Gentlemen, our long wait is nearly at an end. Tomorrow morning, General Insanity Melchett invites you to a mass slaughter. We're going over the top. George: Well, huzzah and hurrah! God Save the King, Rule Britannia, and Boo Sucks the Hairy Hun! Edmund: Or, to put it more precisely: you're going over the top; I'm getting out of here. (goes inside dugout) George: (follows Edmund in) Oh, now, come on, Cap! It may be a bit risky (tries to speak in a rousing Cockney dialect, but fails miserably), but it sure is bloomin'ell worth it, gov'nor! Edmund: How could it possibly be worth it? We've been sitting here since Christmas 1914, during which millions of men have died, and we've advanced no further than an asthsmatic ant with some heavy shopping. George: Well, but this time I'm absolutely pos we'll break through! It's ice cream in Berlin in 15 days. Edmund: Or ice cold in No Man's Land in 15 seconds. No, the time has come to get out of this madness once and for all. George: What madness is that? Edmund: For God's sake, George, how long have you been in the army? George: Oh me? I joined up straight away, sir. August the 4th, 1914. Gah, what a day that was: myself and the rest of the fellows leapfrogging down to the Cambridge recruiting office and then playing tiddlywinks in the queue. We had hammered Oxford's tiddlywinkers only the week before, and there we were, off to hammer the Boche! Crashingly superb bunch of blokes. Fine, clean-limbed -- even their acne had a strange nobility about it. Edmund: Yes, and how are all the boys now? George: Well, er, Jacko and the Badger bought it at the first Ypres front, unfortunately -- quite a shock, that. I remember Bumfluff's house- master wrote and told me that Sticky had been out for a duck, and the Gubber had snitched a parcel sausage-end and gone goose-over-stump frogside. Edmund: Meaning...? George: I don't know, sir, but I read in the Times that they'd both been killed. Edmund: And Bumfluff himself...? George: Copped a packet at Galipoli with the Aussies -- so had Drippy and Strangely Brown. I remember we heard on the first morning of the Somme when Titch and Mr Floppy got gassed back to Blighty. Edmund: Which leaves...? George: Gosh, yes, I, I suppose I'm the only one of the Trinity Tiddlers still alive. (Lummy?), there's a thought -- and not a jolly one. Edmund: My point exactly, George. George: A chap might get a bit (mizz?) -- if it wasn't the thought of going over the top tomorrow! Right, sir: Permission to get weaving... Edmund: Permission granted. George: Thank you, sir. Edmund: Baldrick! Baldrick: (entering) Captain B! Edmund: This is a crisis. A large crisis. In fact, if you've got a moment, it's a twelve-storey crisis with a magnificent entrance hall, carpetting throughout, 24-hour portrage, and an enormous sign on the roof, saying `This Is a Large Crisis'. A large crisis requires a large plan. Get me two pencils and a pair of underpants. (Later, Edmund wears underpants on his head with two pencils up his nose) Edmund: Right, Baldrick, this is an old trick I picked up in the Sudan. We tell HQ that I've gone insane, and I'll be invalided back to Blighty before you can say "Wooble" -- a poor gormless idiot. Baldrick: But I'm a poor gormless idiot, sir, and I've never been invalided back to Blighty. Edmund: Yes, Baldrick, but you've never said "Wooble." Now, ask me some simple questions. Baldrick: Right. What is your name? Edmund: Wooble... Baldrick: What is two plus two? Edmund: Oh, wooble wooble. Baldrick: Where do you live? Edmund: London. Baldrick: Eh? Edmund: A small village on Mars, just outside the capital city, Wooble. George: (enters) All the men present and correct, sir. Ready for the off, eh? Edmund: I'm afraid not, Lieutenant; I'm just off to Hartleypool to buy some exploding trousers. George: Come again, sir -- have you gone barking mad? Edmund: Yes, George, I have. Cluck, cluck, gibber, gibber, my old man's a mushroom, et cetera. Go send a runner to tell General Melchett that your captain has gone insane and must return to England at once. George: But, sir, how utterly ghastly for you! I mean, well, you'll miss the whole rest of the war! Edmund: Yes, very bad luck. Beep! George: Right. Edmund: Beep! George: Baldrick, I'll be back as soon as I can. Edmund: Pah-pah! George: Whatever you do, don't excite him. (leaves) Edmund: (removing the pencils, looks at Baldrick) Fat chance! Now, all we have to do is wait. Baldrick, fix us some coffee, will you? And try to make it taste slightly less like mud this time. Baldrick: Not easy, I'm afraid, Captain. Edmund: Why is this? Baldrick: 'cause it is mud. We ran out of coffee thirteen months ago. Edmund: So every time I've drunk your coffee since, I have in fact been drinking hot mud... Baldrick: With sugar. Edmund: Which of course makes all the difference. Baldrick: Well, it would do if we had any sugar, but, unfortunately, we ran out New Year's Eve 1915, since when I've been using sugar substitute. Edmund: Which is...? Baldrick: Dandruff. Edmund: Brilliant. Baldrick: Still, I could add some milk this time -- well, saliva... Edmund: No, no, thank you, Baldrick. Call me Mr Picky, but I think I'll cancel the coffee. Baldrick: That's probably 'cause you're mad, sir! Edmund: Well, quite! George: (re-enters; Edmund quickly replaces the pencils) Well, it didn't go down well at all, I'm afraid, sir. Captain Darling said they'd be along directly, but, well, you'd better be damn doolally. Edmund: Don't worry, George; I am (makes weird noises while moving his right arm strangely). When they get here, I'll show them what `totally and utterly bonkeroonie' means. Fwaf! Until then, we've got bugger-all to do except sit and wait. George: Well, I don't know, sir -- we could, er, we could have a jolly game of charades! Baldrick: Ooh, yes! George: And a singalong of musical hits like "Birmingham Bertie" and "Whoops, Mrs Miggins, You're Sitting On My Artichokes." Edmund: Yes, I think bugger-all might rather be more fun. (later, the three are sitting around doing bugger-all) Baldrick: Permission to ask a question, sir... Edmund: Permission granted, Baldrick, as long as isn't the one about where babies come from. Baldrick: No, the thing is: The way I see it, these days there's a war on, right? and, ages ago, there wasn't a war on, right? So, there must have been a moment when there not being a war on went away, right? and there being a war on came along. So, what I want to know is: How did we get from the one case of affairs to the other case of affairs? Edmund: Do you mean "How did the war start?" Baldrick: Yeah. George: The war started because of the vile Hun and his villainous empire- building. Edmund: George, the British Empire at present covers a quarter of the globe, while the German Empire consists of a small sausage factory in Tanganyika. I hardly think that we can be entirely absolved of blame on the imperialistic front. George: Oh, no, sir, absolutely not. (aside, to Baldick) Mad as a bicycle! Baldrick: I heard that it started when a bloke called Archie Duke shot an ostrich 'cause he was hungry. Edmund: I think you mean it started when the Archduke of Austro-Hungary got shot. Baldrick: Nah, there was definitely an ostrich involved, sir. Edmund: Well, possibly. But the real reason for the whole thing was that it was too much effort *not* to have a war. George: By (Gum? [it's not `God']) this is interesting; I always loved history -- The Battle of Hastings, Henry VIII and his six knives, all that. Edmund: You see, Baldrick, in order to prevent war in Europe, two superblocs developed: us, the French and the Russians on one side, and the Germans and Austro-Hungary on the other. The idea was to have two vast opposing armies, each acting as the other's deterrent. That way there could never be a war. Baldrick: But this is a sort of a war, isn't it, sir? Edmund: Yes, that's right. You see, there was a tiny flaw in the plan. George: What was that, sir? Edmund: It was bollocks. Baldrick: So the poor old ostrich died for nothing. Darling: (from outside) 'tention! George: (he and Baldrick stand) Right, they're here. Erm, Baldrick, you keep him warm; I'll go prepare the ground. (leaves) (outside, George salutes Melchett and Darling) George: Sir. Melchett: George! How's the patient? George: Well, it's touch and go, I'm afraid, sir. I really can't vouch for his behaviour. He's gone mad, you see -- stir-frying crazy. Melchett: I see. Is this genuinely mad? George: Oh, yes, sir. Melchett: ...or has he simply put his underpants on his head and stuffed a couple of pencils up his nose? That's what they all used to do in the Sudan. I remember I once had to shoot a whole platoon for trying that. Well, let's have a look at him. (goes in, followed by the others) Darling: 'tention!!! Edmund: (stands, talks to Baldrick) ...and the other thing they used to do in the Sudan is to get dressed up like this and pretend to be mad. But don't let me catch you trying that one, Baldrick, or I'll have you shot, all right? Dismissed. (turns to Melchett, removes the pencils) Oh, hello, sir -- didn't hear you come in. Melchett: Well now, Blackadder, they tell me you've gone mad. Edmund: No, sir (removes the underpants), no -- must be a breakdown of communication. Someone obviously heard I was mad with excitement, waiting for the off. Melchett: There you are, you see, Darling? I told you there'd be a perfectly rational explanation. Right, George, have your chaps fall in. George: Very good, sir. (salutes, leaves) Darling: Well, it's rather odd, sir. The message was very clear: "Captain Blackadder gone totally tonto. Bring straightjacket for immediate return to Blighty." (holds up straightjacket) Melchett: Don't be ridiculous, Darling. The Hero of Mboto Gorge, mad? Well, you've only got to look at him to see he's as sane as I am! Beeaaah! (leaves) Darling: Would that the Mboto Gorge where we massacred the peace-loving pygmies of the Upper Volta and stole all their fruit? Edmund: No -- a totally different Mboto Gorge. Darling: Oh. Edmund: Cup of coffee, Darling? Darling: Oh, thank you. Edmund: Baldrick, do the honours. Baldrick: (comes from kitchen) Sir. (to Darling) Sugar, sir? Darling: Three lumps. Edmund: Think you can manage three *lumps*, Baldrick? Baldrick: I'll rummage around, see what I can find, sir. (turns back to kitchen) Darling: Make it a milky one. Baldrick: Coming up, sir. (outside; while Melchett and George speak, Baldrick can be heard hawking up a great deal of `milk') Melchett: Well, George, you must have been delighted to hear the news of the Big Push. George: Absolutely, sir -- our chance to show the Hun that it takes more than a pointy hat and bad breath to defeat the armies of King George! Melchett: That's the spirit! (inside, Baldrick spits, then returns with the mug) Baldrick: Here you are, sir. Darling: (looks in the mug) Ah, cappucino! Have you got any of that brown stuff you sprinkle on the top? Baldrick: Well, I'm sure I could m-- Edmund: No, no! Darling: (as Melchett and George return) 'tention! Melchett: Well, fine body of men you've got out there, Blackadder. Edmund: Yes, sir -- shortly to become fine bodies of men. Melchett: Nonsense -- you'll pull through. (laughs) I remember when we played the old Harrovians back in '96: they said we never could break through to their back line, but we ducked and we bobbed and we wove and we damn well won the game, 15-4. Edmund: Yes, sir, but the Harrow fullback wasn't armed with a heavy machine gun. Melchett: No -- that's a good point. Make a note, Darling... Darling: Sir. Melchett: "Recommendation for the Harrow Governors: Heavy machine guns for fullbacks." Bright idea, Blackadder. (speaks to Baldrick) Now then, soldier, are you looking forward to giving those Frenchies a damn good licking? Darling: Er, no, sir -- it's the Germans we shall be licking, sir. Melchett: Don't be revolting, Darling! I wouldn't lick a German if he was glazed in honey! Darling: Sorry. Melchett: (back to Baldrick) Now then, soldier, do you love your country? Baldrick: Certainly do, sir. Melchett: And do you love your king? Baldrick: Certainly don't, sir. Melchett: And why not? Baldrick: My mother told me never to trust men with beards, sir. Melchett: (laughs) Excellent native Cockney wit! (hits Baldrick in the face; Baldrick falls over) Well, best of luck to you all. Sorry I can't be with you, but obviously there's no place at the front for an old general with a dicky heart and a wooden bladder. By the way, George, if you want to accompany me back to HQ and watch the results as they come in, I think I can guarantee a place in the car. George: Oh, no, thank you, sir -- I wouldn't miss this show for anything. I am as excited as a very excited person who's got a special reason to be excited, sir. Melchett: Excellent! Well, (chuf chuf?) then. See you all in Berlin for coffee and cakes. Goerge: Sir. (salutes) (As Melchett begins to walk out, Darling drinks then spits out the `coffee'.) Melchett: What is the matter with you today, Darling? I'm so sorry, Blackadder. Come on, Darling, we're leaving. (he and Darling leave) George: Righto, sir, I'm glad you're not barking anymore. Edmund: Well, thank you, George -- although quite clearly you are. You were offered a way out, and you didn't take it. George: Absolutely not, sir! I can't wait to get stuck into the Boche! Edmund: You won't have time to get `stuck into the Boche'! We'll all be cut to pieces by machine gun fire before we can say "charge." George: All right, so, what do we do now? Baldrick: Can I do my war poem? Edmund: How hurt would you be if I gave the honest answer, which is "No, I'd rather French-kiss a skunk"? Baldrick: So would I, sir! Edmund: All right. Fire away, Baldrick. Baldrick: "Hear the words I sing / War's a horrid thing / So I sing sing sing / ding-a-ling-a-ling." George: (applauding) Oh, bravo, yes! Edmund: Yes. Well, it started badly, it tailed off a little in the middle, and the less said about the end, the better. But, apart than that, excellent. Baldrick: Oh, shall I do another one, then, sir? Edmund: No -- we wouldn't want to exhaust you. Baldrick: No, don't worry; I could go on all night. Edmund: Not with a bayonet through your neck, you couldn't! Baldrick: This one is called "The German Guns." George: Oh, spiffing! Yes, let's hear that! Baldrick: "Boom boom boom boom / Boom boom boom / BOOM BOOM, BOOM BOOM-- Edmund: "BOOM BOOM BOOM"? Baldrick: How did you guess, sir? George: I say, sir! That is spooky! Edmund: I'm sorry, I think I've got to get out of here!!! Baldrick: Well, I have a cunning plan, sir. Edmund: All right, Baldrick -- for old time's sake. Baldrick: Well, you phone Field Marshal Haig, sir, and you ask him to get you out of here. Edmund: (stands) Baldrick, even by your standards it's pathetic! I've only ever met Field Marshal Haig once, it was twenty years ago, and, my god, you've got it, you've got it! (he kisses Baldrick's hat) Baldrick: Well, if I've got it, you've got it too, now, sir. Edmund: I can't believe I've been so stupid! One phone call will do it -- one phone call and I'll be free. Let's see, it's 3.30 a.m.; I'll call about quarter to six. Excellent, excellent. Well, I'll get packing. George: You know, I won't half miss you chaps after the war. Baldrick: Don't worry, Lieutenant; I'll come visit you. George: Will you really? Oh bravo! Yes, jump into the old jalopy and come down and stay in the country, and we can relive the old times. Edmund: What, dig a hole in the garden, fill it with water, and get your gamekeeper to shoot at us all day? George: You know, that's the thing I don't really understand about you, Cap. You're a professional soldier, and yet, sometimes you sound as though you bally well haven't enjoyed soldiering at all. Edmund: Well, you see, George, I did like it, back in the old days when the prerequisite of a British campaign was that the enemy should under no circumstances carry guns -- even spears made us think twice. The kind of people we liked to fight were two feet tall and armed with dry grass. George: Now, come off it, sir -- what about Mboto Gorge, for heaven's sake? Edmund: Yes, that was a bit of a nasty one -- ten thousand Watusi warriors armed to the teeth with kiwi fruit and guava halves. After the battle, instead of taking prisoners, we simply made a huge fruit salad. No, when I joined up, I never imagined anything as awful as this war. I'd had fifteen years of military experience, perfecting the art of ordering a pink gin and saying "Do you do it doggy-doggy?" in Swahili, and then suddenly four-and-a-half million heavily armed Germans hoved into view. That was a shock, I can tell you. Baldrick: (polishing boots with a dead rat) I thought it was going to be such fun, too -- we all did -- joining the local regiment and everything: The Turnip Street Workhouse Powers. It was great. I'll never forget it. It was the first time I ever felt really popular. Everyone was cheering, throwing flowers. Some girl even come up and kissed me. Edmund: Poor woman -- first casualty of the war. Baldrick: I loved the training; all we had to do was bayonet sacks full of straw. Even I could do that. I rememeber saying to my mum, "These sacks will be easy to outwit in a battle situation." And then, shortly after, we all met up, didn't we? just before Christmas, 1914. George: Yes, that's right. I'd just arrived and we had that wonderful Christmas truce. Do you remember, sir? We could hear "Silent Night" drifting across the still, clear air of No Man's Land. And then they came, the Germans, emerging out of the freezing night mist, calling to us, and we clambered up over the top and went to meet them. Edmund: Both sides advanced more during one Christmas piss-up than they managed in the next two-and-a-half years of war. Baldrick: Do you remember the football match? Edmund: Remember it? How could I forget it? I was never offside! I could not believe that decision! Baldrick: And since then we've been stuck here for three flipping years! We haven't moved! All my friends are dead: My pet spider, Sammy; Katie the worm; Bertie the bird -- everyone except Neville the fat hamster. Edmund: (having just finished his packing; sits) I'm afraid Neville bought it too, Baldrick. I'm sorry. Baldrick: Neville, gone, sir? Edmund: Actually, not quite gone -- he's in the corner, bunging up the sink. Baldrick: (stands) Oh no, it didn't have to happen, sir! If it wasn't for this terrible war, Neville would still be here today, sniffling his little nose and going "Eek." Edmund: On the other hand, if he hadn't died, I wouldn't have been able to insert a curtain rod in his bottom and use him as a dishmop. Baldrick: Why can't we just stop, sir? Why can't we just say, "No more killing; let's all go home"? Why would it be stupid just to pack it in, sir, why? George: Now, now, now, look here, you just stop that (conchy?) talk right now, Private. It's, it's absurd, it's Bolshevism, and it wouldn't work, anyway. Baldrick: Why not, sir? George: "Why not?" Well, what do you mean? "Why wouldn't it work?" It-- It wouldn't work, Private-- It wouldn't work because, there, well, now, you just get on with polishing those boots, all right? and let's have a little bit less of that lip! (to Edmund) I think I managed to crush the mutiny there, sir. Well, to think, sir: in just a few hours, we'll be off. Of course, not that I wouldn't miss all this, sir. I mean, we've had some good times; we've had damnably good laughs, eh? Edmund: Yes -- can't think of any specific ones, myself, but... (Melchett's office. Darling is asleep at the desk. Melchett comes in with a candle. He is wearing a robe, and a hairnet for his moustache.) Melchett: Darling. Darling: (with a start, stands) Sir! Melchett: Oh, sit sit sit sit... Can't sleep either, eh? Darling: Er, no, sir -- thinking about the Push, sir, hoping the Boche will forget to set their alarm clocks, oversleep, and still be in their pyjamas when our boys turn up, sir. Melchett: Yes, yes. I've been thinking, too, Darling. Darling: Sir? Melchett: You know, over these last few years, I've come to think of you as a sort of son. Not a favourite son, of course -- lord, no! -- more a sort of illegitimate backstairs sort of sprog, you know: a sort of spotty squit that nobody really likes. But, nonetheless, still fruit of my overactive loins. Darling: Thank you, sir. Melchett: And I want to do what's best for you, Darling, so I've given it a great deal of thought, and I want you to have this. (picks up a piece of paper from the desk and hands it to Darling) Darling: A postal order for ten shillings... Melchett: No, sorry -- that's my godson's wedding present. (picks up another piece of paper) Here. Darling: Er, no, sir -- this is the commission for the front line, sir. (holds it out, to give it back) Melchett: Yes. I've been awfully selfish, Darling, keeping you back here instead of letting you join in the fun and games. This will let you get to the front line immediately! Darling: But, but, sir, I, I don't want to. Melchett: ...to leave me? Heh, I appreciate that, Darling, but, damn it, I'll just have to enter Berlin without someone to carry my feathery hat. Darling: (stands) No, sir, I don't want to go into battle. Melchett: ...without me. I know. But I'm too old, Darling. I'm just going to have to sit this one out on the touchline with the halftime oranges and the fat, wheezy boys with a note from matron, while you young- bloods link arms and go together for the glorious final scrumdown. Darling: No, sir... (walks around the desk to Melchett) You're, you're not listening, sir. I'm begging you, please -- for the sake of all the times I've helped you with your dicky bows and dicky bladder -- please (falls to his knees), don't make me-- Melchett: ...make you go through the farewell debagging ceremony in the mess. Heh! No, I've spared you that, too, you touchingly sentimental young booby! Look: no fuss, no bother -- the driver is already here. Darling: (turns, still on his knees, as the door opens; a shadow of the driver is cast from the bright light in the next room [extra bright for dramatic effect]; the driver salutes) But-- Melchett: No, no -- not a word, Kevin. I know what you want to say. I know. (Darling stands slowly) Goodbye, Kevin Darling. (salutes) Darling: (frightened, salutes) Goodbye, sir. (dawn, in the dugout) Baldrick: (enters) It's stopped raining at last, sir, begging your pardon -- looks like we might have a nice day for it. George: Yes, it's nearly morning... Edmund: (peeks outside) Good lord -- so it is. Right, time to make my call. (winds the telephone) Hello? Field Marshal Sir Douglas Haig, please. Yes, it's urgent... (Haig picks up and is looking over a model of the battlefield.) Haig: Haig. Edmund: Hello, Sir Douglas. Haig: Who is this? Edmund: Captain Blackadder, sir, erstwhile of the 1945th East African rifles. Haig: Good lord! Blacky! (knocks down an entire line of model soldiers) Edmund: Yes, sir. Haig: I haven't seen you since... (knocks down the second line of model soldiers on the same side) Edmund: '92, sir -- Mboto Gorge. Haig: By jingo, yes. We sure gave those pygmies a good squashing. Edmund: We certainly did, sir. And do you remember...? Haig: My god, yes. You saved my damn life that day, Blacky. If it weren't for you, that pygmy woman with the sharpened mango could have seriously... Edmund: Well, exactly, sir. And do you remember then that you said that if I was ever in real trouble and I really needed a favour that I was to call you and you'd do everything you could to help me? Haig: (sweeps the fallen soldier models into a dustpan) Yes, yes, I do, and I stick by it. You know me -- not a man to change my mind. Edmund: No -- we've noticed that. Haig: So what do you want? Spit it out, man. (hurls the dead platoon over his shoulder) Edmund: Well, you see, sir, it's the Big Push today, and I'm not all that keen to go over the top. Haig: (sits) Oh, I see. Well... Edmund: It was a viciously sharp slice of mango, wasn't it, sir... Haig: (fiddles with one of the soldiers) Well, this is most irregular, but, erm, all right. If I do fix it for you, I never want to hear from you again, is that clear? Edmund: Suits me, Douggy. Haig: Very well. Listen carefully, Blackadder; I won't repeat this. Put your underpants on your head and stick two pencils up your nose. They'll think you're crazy and send you home. Right, favour returned. (hangs up) Edmund: (hanging up his end) I think the phrase rhymes with `clucking bell'. Baldrick: Does that mean you'll going over the top, now, sir? (phone rings, Edmund quickly picks it up) Edmund: Field Marshal? Melchett: (on the other end, laughs) Well, not quite, Blackadder -- at least not yet. No, I just wanted to let you know I've sent a little surprise over for you. (Darling enters, wearing helmet) George: Sir! (salutes) Edmund: (hangs up the phone, turns) Captain Darling... Darling: Captain Blackadder. Edmund: Here to join us for the last waltz? Darling: (nervous) Erm, yes -- tired of folding the general's pyjamas. George: Well, this is splendid, comradely news! Together, we'll fight for king and country, and be sucking sausages in Berlin by teatime. Edmund: Yes, I hope their cafes are well stocked; everyone seems determined to eat out the moment they arrive. George: No, really, this is brave, splendid and noble! Sir? Edmund: Yes, Lieutenant? George: I'm scared, sir. Baldrick: I'm scared too, sir. George: I mean, I'm the last of the tiddlywinking leapfroggers from the Golden Summer of 1914. I don't want to die. I'm really not overkeen on dying at all, sir. Edmund: How are you feeling, Darling? Darling: Erm, not all that good, Blackadder -- rather hoped I'd get through the whole show; go back to work at Pratt & Sons; keep wicket for the Croydon gentlemen; marry Doris... Made a note in my diary on my way here. Simply says, "Bugger." Edmund: Well, quite. (a voice outside gives orders) Voice: (??)! (??)! Edmund: Ah well, come on. Let's move. Voice: Fix bayonets! (They start to go outside) Edmund: Don't forget your stick, Lieutenant. George: Oh no, sir -- wouldn't want to face a machine gun without this! (outside, they all line up as the shelling stops) Darling: Listen! Our guns have stopped. George: You don't think...? Baldrick: Maybe the war's over. Maybe it's peace! George: Well, hurrah! The big knobs have gone round the table and yanked the iron out of the fire! Darling: Thank God! We lived through it! The Great War: 1914-1917. George: Hip hip! All but Edmund: Hurray! Edmund: (loading his revolver) I'm afraid not. The guns have stopped because we're about to attack. Not even our generals are mad enough to shell their own men. They think it's far more sporting to let the Germans do it. George: So we are, in fact, going over. This is, as they say, it. Edmund: I'm afraid so, unless I think of something very quickly. Voice: Company, one pace forward! (everyone steps forward) Baldrick: Ooh, there's a nasty splinter on that ladder, sir! A bloke could hurt himself on that. Voice: Stand ready! (everyone puts a foot forward) Baldrick: I have a plan, sir. Edmund: Really, Baldrick? A cunning and subtle one? Baldrick: Yes, sir. Edmund: As cunning as a fox who's just been appointed Professor of Cunning at Oxford University? Baldrick: Yes, sir. Voice: On the signal, company will advance! Edmund: Well, I'm afraid it'll have to wait. Whatever it was, I'm sure it was better than my plan to get out of this by pretending to be mad. I mean, who would have noticed another madman round here? (whistle blows) Edmund: Good luck, everyone. (blows his whistle) (Everyone yells as they go over the top. German guns fire before they're even off the ladders. The scene changes to slow motion, and explosions happen all around them. [An echoed piano slowly plays the Blackadder theme.] The smoke and flying earth begins to obscure vision as the view changes to the battlefield moments later: empty and silent with barbed wire, guns and bodies strewn across it. [A bass drum beats slowly.] That view in turn changes to the same field as it is today: overgrown with grasses and flowers, peaceful, with chirping birds.) B L A C K A D D E R (C) BBC tv MCMLXXXIX
