All language subtitles for Black Adder [1x03] - Potato

- Coming?
- No.

- It'll be a once in a lifetime experience.
- No it won't.

- Everybody's going.
- Don't exaggerate, Percy.

I'm not going,
Mrs Miggins from the pie shop isn't going.

You know perfectly well that Mrs Miggins
is bedridden from the nose down.

And besides, she is honouring the occasion

by baking a great commemorative pie,
in the shape of an enormous pie!

What an imagination that woman has.
(CROWD CHEERING OUTSIDE)

Come on, Edmund! The greatest
explorer of our age is coming home.

The streets have never been so gay!
Women are laughing, children singing...

Look! There's a man being indecently
assaulted by nine foreign sailors

and he's still got a smile on his face!

Look, Percy, the return of Sir Walter
"Oh, what a big ship I've got" Raleigh

is a matter of supreme indifference to me.

Look, if you're not careful, all the children
will dance about outside your window

singing "sourpuss" and "grumpy face",
and you wouldn't want that, would you?

I believe I could survive it. Now, Percy,
will you get out before I cut your head off,

scoop out the insides,
and give it to your mother as a vase!

What a clot. The most absurdly
dressed creature in Christendom.

With one exception.

- My lord?
- Baldrick, you look like a deer.

Thank you, my lord.
You look a bit of a duckie yourself.

What do you want?

I was wondering if I might
have the afternoon off?

Who do you think you are? Watt Tyler?

You can have the afternoon off
when you die, not before.

I want to cheer brave Sir Walter home.

Today I feel proud to be a member
of the greatest Kingdom in the world.

And doubtless many other members
of the animal kingdom feel the same way.

(CROWD CHEERING OUTSIDE)
Look, will you shut up?!

Bloody explorers,
ponce off to Mumbo-Jumbo-land,

come home with a tropical disease,
a suntan and a bag of brown lumpy things,

and everyone's
got a picture of them in the lavatory.

I mean, what about the people
that do all the work?

I'm the people who do all the work.
I mean, look at this.

- What is it?
- I'm surprised you've forgotten, my lord.

- It's a rhetorical question.
- No, it's a potato.

To you it's a potato, to me it's a potato.

But to Sir Walter Bloody Raleigh
it's country estates, fine carriages

and as many girls as his tongue can cope with.

He's making a fortune out of the things.
People are building houses out of them.

They'll be eating them next.

Stranger things have happened.

That horse becoming Pope.
(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

Oh, God. Probably some berk
with a parrot on his shoulder

selling plaster gnomes of Sir Francis Drake
and his "Golden Behind".

(CHILD SINGING "SOURPUSS,
GRUMPY FACE" OUTSIDE)

(SINGING STOPS)

- Mummy!
- Why aren't you at school?

Blackadder, started talking to yourself I see.

Yes, it's the only way I can be sure
of intelligent conversation.

- What do you want?
- I just looked in on my way to the palace

to welcome Sir Walter home.
I wondered if you cared to accompany me.

I don't think I'll bother.
Three hours of bluff seaman's talk

about picking the weevils
out of biscuits and drinking urine

is not my idea of a good time.

Servant, my hat.

- Potato?
- Thanks, I don't.

You haven't succumbed to this fad

of dressing up like half an allotment
in Nottingham Forest.

- There you go, my lord.
- Thank you.

You have.

Just as well you're not coming, you're
not very popular at court at the moment...

I can probably leave this until tomorrow in fact.

No, I'll come. The Queen and I will be the
only ones even vaguely sensibly dressed.

- Who is it?
- Melchy, Lady.

Stop! Close your eyes!

Now enter!

Ahoy there, me shivering matey, heave-ho!

- Right, open your eyes.
- Thank you, Majesty.

And...

- What's the matter, Melchy?
- I beg your pardon, my lady.

I was wanting to greet the gallant sailor
who hallooed me as I came in.

Perchance he has hauled anchor
and sailed away.

No, it was me!

Majesty! Surely not!

You utter creep.

So where's this barnacle-bottomed,
haddock-flavoured,

bilge-rat Sir 'rather a wally' Raleigh, then?

I hear he's about as exciting
as one of his potatoes.

- Blackadder's a frightful old lubber.
- Well, indubitably no sea dog, Ma'am.

With a yo-ho-ho and perhaps, I might
venture, a bottle of rum into the bargain?

(WHISTLE SOUND)
It's him!

Oh, God. Do I look absolutely divine and regal

and yet at the same time
very pretty and rather accessible?

You are every jolly Jack tar's dream, Majesty.

I thought as much. If he's really
gorgeous, I'm thinking of marrying him.

- Ma'am, is that not a little rash?
- I don't think so.

It wouldn't be your first little rash if it was.

(CHEERING AND APPLAUDING)

Majesty!

Splice me timbers, Sir Walter,
it's bucko to see you, old matey!

I'm sorry?

She says hello.

And well she might, for I have
brought her gifts and dominions

beyond her wildest dreams.

Are you sure? I have some
pretty wild dreams, you know.

I'm not sure what they mean, but the other
day there was this enormous tree,

and I was sitting right on top of it.

And then I dreamt once
that I was a sausage roll.

Sorry! So excited! Don't know what I'm saying.

Come on, Sir Walter, I want to hear
about absolutely everything.

Then prepare to hear tales of terrible
hardship, endurance and woe.

We set sail from Plymouth in
the spring of 1552...

You remember Lord Blackadder?

No. But I can see he is the sort of pasty
landlubber I have always despised.

Well, quite. Don't crowd Sir Walter, Edmund.

Twice last week,
I fought in hand to hand combat

with a man with two heads and no body hair.

I'll warrant the most exciting thing that has
happened to that limpid prawn in a year

was the day his servant
forgot to put sugar in his porridge.

Gosh, you've got nice legs.

While I hold the six seas of the world
in my hand,

he couldn't even put six gob-stoppers
in his mouth.

- He's a complete no-hoper, isn't he?
- He certainly is.

My bedroom's just upstairs, you know.

I apprehended, Sir Walter,
that there were only seven seas.

Only numerically speaking.

We sailors do not count the sea around the
Cape of Good Hope.

It is called the Sea of Certain Death,
and no sailor has crossed it alive.

What an extraordinary coincidence.

What's an extraordinary coincidence?

It's just I was planning a jaunt around
the Cape of Good Hope myself.

I'm leaving a week on Thursday, I think.

- Really?
- Yes, and now that...

...sorry, I've forgotten your name,

has returned and the court smells of fish
I've half a mind to set off this afternoon.

If you attempt that journey,
you've no mind at all.

- Or perhaps a mind that knows no fear.
- Is that true? Do you know no fear?

Well, yes, I do rather laugh in
the face of fear, tweak the nose of terror.

Gosh, Edmund, I'd forgotten how dishy you are.

Why, round the Cape the rain beats down
so hard it makes your head bleed.

Some sort of hat is probably in order.

And great dragons leap from
the water and swallow ships whole!

I must remember to pack the
larger of my two shrimping nets.

Edmund, you are completely wonderful.

If you do this, I'll probably marry you.

Oh, yes? And who will be your captain?

There's only one seafarer with few enough
marbles to attempt that journey.

- And who is that?
- Rum, of course. Captain Redbeard Rum.

Well done. Just testing.
And where would I find him on a Tuesday?

If I remember his habits,
he's usually up the Old Sea Dog.

And where is the Old Sea Dog?

On Tuesdays he's normally
in bed with the Captain.

Aaaahrrrrrr, aaaahrrr, aaaahrrrrr...

...me laddie.
- Ah-haah-ah, indeed.

So, Rum, I wish to hire you and your ship.
Can we shake on it?

Aah-ahhh! You have a woman's hand, my lord!

I'll wager these dainty pinkies
never weighed anchor in a storm.

Well, you're right there.

Your skin, my lord. I'll wager it ne'er felt
the lash of a cat, been rubbed with salt

and then flayed off by a pirate chief to
make fine stockings for his best cabin boy.

This is uncanny, I don't know how
you do it, but you're right again.

Why should I let a stupid cockerel
like you aboard me boat?

Perhaps for the money in my purse.

You have a woman's purse!

I'll wager that purse has never
been used as a rowing-boat.

I'll wager it's never had sixteen
shipwrecked mariners tossing in it.

Right again, Rum. I must say
when it comes to tales of courage

I'm going to have to keep my mouth shut.

You have a woman's mouth, my lord!

I'll wager that mouth never had to chew
through the side of a ship

to escape the dreadful spindly killer fish.

I must say, I had no idea I was going to
have to eat your ship as well as hire it.

And since you're clearly as mad as a
mongoose I'll bid you farewell.

Courtiers to the Queen, you're
nothing but lap-dogs to a slip of a girl.

Better a "lap-dog to a slip of a girl",
than a... git.

So you do have some spunk in you!

- Don't worry, laddie, I'll come.
- Let us set sail as soon as we can.

I will fetch my first mate, and then I'll return
as fast as my legs will carry me.

You have a woman's legs, my lord!

I'll wager those are legs that have never
been sliced clean off by a falling sail,

and swept into the sea before your very eyes.

- Neither have yours.
- That's where you're wrong.

Oh, my God!

No point in changing your mind now.
The whole thing's suicide anyway.

- What's the first mate's name?
- Percy.

- A nautical cove?
- Yes! Well, he's sort of wet fish.

I'm not coming. I'm just not coming.

I mean, of course I'm very keen
to go on the trip,

it's just... unfortunately,
I've got an appointment...

...to have my nostrils plucked...

...next year.

I'm sorry, my lord. I thought it was
because you were a complete coward.

Don't be ridiculous, Baldrick. You know me.

I laugh in the face of fear, and tweak the
nose of the dreadful spindly killer fish.

I'm not one of your milksops who's scared
out of his mind by the mere sight of water.

(SCREAMS WITH FEAR)

Yes, alright, I admit it, I'm terrified!

You see, Baldrick, when I was a baby,

I was savaged by a turbot.

Oh, Baldrick, can you think of a plan
to get me out of this?

- You can hide, my lord.
- Hide?

Brilliant! Where?

In the box!

Which one?

Perfect!

Let's practice. Edmund comes in and says,

"Hello, Baldrick. You haven't seen Percy,
have you?" And you say...

- No, my lord, I haven't seen him all day.
- Brilliant!

Oh, my God, here he comes!

Hello, Balders. Where the hell's that
cretin Percy? Have you seen him?

Yes, my lord! He's hiding in the box!

Come on, jellybrain.
Hurry up, otherwise we'll miss the tide.

Oh, Edmund, I'm so proud.

You're just my complete hero!
Oh, dear, I'm going all gooey now.

Ma'am, if during my journey you did
occasionally spare me a thought

and, perhaps, go gooey again, I'd deem
my certain death a minor inconvenience.

Oh, Ned...

- I've written a poem.
- Madam, I'm honoured.

When the night is dark, And the dogs go "bark";

When the clouds are black,
And the ducks go "quack";

When the sky is blue, And the cows go "moo";

Think of lovely Queenie;
She'll be thinking of you.

(APPLAUSE)

It's called "Edmund".

Shakespeare gave me a hand with the
title, but the rest is all my own work.

Tush and fie, my tiddly. You didn't always
make such pretty speeches.

'Tis but the twinkling of a toe since you
could say nothing but "Lizzie go plop, plop."

Put a bung in it, Nursie.

Now! I am sure that Melchy and Wally
want to say something as well.

Oh, yes indeed!

Goodbye, Blackadder.

I'd say "Bon Voyage," but there's no point.
You'll be dead in three months.

I love you, Walter, I hope you know that.

Farewell, Blackadder, the foremost
cartographers of the land have made this.

It's a map of the area that you'll be traversing.

They'll be very grateful if you could just
fill it in as you go along. Goodbye.

(A VOICE IS HEARD OUTSIDE)
What's that?

To Tilbury, me hearties!

The wind is in the sails,
the oars are in the locks!

And we must away!

Lady, it is my captain.
Long on beard, short on legs.

Oh, Captain. I wish you luck,
from the bottom of my heart.

You have a woman's bottom, my lady!

I'll wager that sweet round pair of peaches

has never been forced 'twixt two splintered
planks, to plug a leak and save a ship.

Certainly hasn't, and I'm quite pleased about it!

- What's wrong with women's bottoms?
- Not big enough, Ma'am.

Mine might be!

In that case, my little puddin' of delight,
let's beat about the bush no longer.

I know I'm only a bluff old cove with no legs
and a beard you could lose a badger in

but if you'll take me, I'm willing to be
captain of your ship, forever!

- What do you say?
- Yes, please!

I'll be back! We'll all be back!

Edmund, then this is it. Oh!

Have you got clean underwear?
And don't eat foreign food.

And watch out for strange men,
and discover me a country,

and bring me back a vegetable,
and - oh! - everything!

Madam, I shall do all I can.

Farewell!

And... Don't wait up.

Gosh.

Well! That's the last we'll see of him.

In three months time
he'll be dead as a... dead dodo.

Oh, Sir Walter, really!

Sir Walter...

Ha-ha!

Ha-ha-ha-ha!

Not joining us in the "ha-ha's", Percy?

No! I'm thinking of England
and the girl I left behind me.

Oh, God. I didn't know you had a girl.

Oh, yes. Lady Caroline Fairfax.

- Caroline! I didn't know you knew her.
- Oh, yes! I even touched her once.

Touched her what?

Once. In a corridor.

I've never heard it called that before.

When you get home in six months,
you'll be a hero.

She might even let you
get your hands on her twice.

- I fear not.
- Why not?

Because we'll never get home.
We're doomed, doomed!

Condemned to a watery grave
with a captain who's legless.

Rubbish! I've hardly touched a drop!

No, no. I mean you haven't got any legs.

You're right there. Carry on, sorry.

We've got no hope. No hope of ever returning.

On the contrary, we are certain to return!

Because, me old sods, we are not
going to the Cape of Good Hope.

- What?!
- We are in fact going to France!

France?!

But, Edmund, surely France
has already been discovered.

- By the French for a start.
- Well, precisely; it's a trick.

We just camp for six months,
get a good suntan, come home,

pretend we've been round the Cape,
and get all the glory.

A masterly plan, me young master.

And one that leads me to make
an announcement meself.

Truth is, I don't know the way to the
Cape of Good Hope anyway.

What were you going to do?

Sail round and round the Isle of Wight 'til
everyone gets dizzy. Then head for home.

You old rascal. Still, who cares;
the day after tomorrow we'll be in Calais.

Captain, set sail for France!

Hooray!

So, you don't know the way to France, either.

No! I must confess that, too.

Bugger!

He's only been gone three days
and I am missing him already.

Well, perhaps, Ma'am, I might amuse you
still further with tales of my adventures.

Like what?

Perhaps the one about the mad pirate king

whose crew consisted entirely
of men called Roger.

Heard it.

Maybe I could distract you
with the tale of the time I fell into the water

and was almost eaten by a hammerhead shark.

Yes. Alright, try that one.

Well, Ma'am...

I fell into the water
and was almost eaten by a shark.

And the funny thing is, its head was
exactly the same shape as a hammer.

Oh, God!

You'd better come up with some presents,
or I'm going to go off explorers completely!

I'll tell you something else.
Edmund was right. You do smell of fish.

Pooey!

(UNINTELLIGIBLE ARGUING)

There's no need to panic. Someone in
the crew will know how to steer this thing.

- The crew, my lord?
- Yes, the crew.

What crew?

I thought that it was common maritime
practice for a ship to have a crew.

- Opinion is divided on the subject.
- Really?

All the other captains say it is; I say it isn't.

Oh, God. Mad as a brush.

Sir Walter's death warrant
for your signature, Majesty.

Good. Any news of Edmund?

Well, if they're on course, they should be
nearing the urine-drinking stage by now.

Don't be horrid, Melchy.
Edmund would rather die!

I fear that may be wishful thinking, Majesty.

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

Enter.

- So soon?
- You said today.

Yes, well, I'm not feeling
very thirsty at the moment.

I had an eggcup full of stagnant water
three weeks ago...

Alright, let's get on with it.

Should we drink each other's
or stick to our own?

Is Captain Rum joining us
for this bring-a-sample party?

He's been swigging his for ages.
He says he likes it.

Actually, come to think of it, he started
before the water ran out.

Oh, God. Well, let's get on with it.

It's always the same, isn't it? You get all
keyed up and then you can't go.

- I've done two bottles.
- Alright, then, pour it out.

That it should come to this,
drinking Baldrick's water.

Down the hatch.

Land ahoy!

Ah! France at last!

No, me young master.
Through fair winds and fine seamanship,

our vessel is once more edged up
on the shores of Old Blighty.

By lucky chance,
we have landed at Southampton dock.

Fare thee well. Last one up the old
sea dog gets a lick of the cat!

Don't look much like
Southampton to me, my lord.

Well, those streams of molten lava
and that steamy mangrove swamp.

And that crowd of natives rubbing their
tummies and pointing to a large pot.

Oh, God.

Where are they now?

If they haven't been eaten by cannibals,
they should be back any minute now.

- Ma'am!
- Edmund! You're alive!

Oh, yes.

- And your silly friend.
- Lord Percy, Ma'am.

- And your monkey!
- Your Majesty.

- But where is Captain Rum?
- Bad news, my lady. Rum is dead.

Do not despair, good woman.
He died a hero's death:

giving his life that his friends might live.

And that his enemies might
have something to go with their potatoes.

- You mean they put him in the pot?
- Your fiancé was a third-rate sailor,

but a first-rate second course.

However, we did manage to save
something of him as a memento.

My lucky stars; I shall wear it always,
to remind me of him.

However, Ma'am, I am now returned,

and my mind can't help remembering
talk of wedding bells.

No, I am completely bored with explorers!

And if you haven't brought me any
presents, I'm going to have you executed!

I only let Raleigh off because he
blubbed on his way to the block.

- Presents, please!
- Ah, yes, Ma'am.

Well, there was one thing, Ma'am,

a most extraordinary gift
from the island paradise we visited.

Hurry up!

- What is it?
- A stick.

- Is it a stick, Lord Blackadder?
- Yes, but it's a very special stick.

Because when you throw it away, it comes back!

Well, that's no good, is it; because
when I throw things away,

I don't want them to come back!
You! Get rid of it!

Certainly, Ma'am.

What else have you brought?

Well, there was very little time what with
picking the weevils out of biscuits and...

What did I do with that death warrant?

Oh, Edmund, it's wonderful!
But what about Melchy and Raleigh?

You must have brought something
for them as well.

Nursie's got her beard, I've got my stick;
what about the two boys?

Um, yes, yes...

Well, there was...

- There was one thing.
- Good.

A fine wine from the Far East!
A most delicious beverage!

Have a taste, boys, and tell us what you think!

- Oh, it certainly has plenty of nose!
- Oh, yes, this is very familiar.

I'm sure you'll be glad to hear
that there is an inexhaustible supply.

# Sir Francis and Sir Walter had
Discovered new worlds and new nations

# And though Blackadder thought them mad,
He tried his hand at navigation

# Blackadder, Blackadder,
He saw the oceans foam

# Blackadder, Blackadder,
He should have stayed at home

# Blackadder, Blackadder,
He heard the new world's call

# Blackadder, Blackadder,
Discovered bugger all