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Blackadder
Duel and Duality


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Baldrick

Edmund Blackadder

Prince Regent George

Mrs. Miggins

The Duke of Wellington

Mc Adder

King's Servant

King George III

 

The Palace Kitchens

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Baldrick: Ooh! Mr. Blackadder.

Edmund Blackadder: Leave me alone Baldrick. If I'd wanted to talk to a vegetable I'd

have bought one at the market.

Baldrick: Well don't you want this message?

Edmund Blackadder: No thank you... God, I'm wasted here. It's no life for a man of

noble blood being servant to a master with the intellect of a jugged

walrus and all the social graces of a potty.

Baldrick: I'm wasted too. I've been thinking of bettering myself.

Edmund Blackadder: Oh, really? How?

Baldrick: I applied for the job of village idiot of Kensington.

Edmund Blackadder: Oh. Get anywhere?

Baldrick: I got down to the last two, but I failed the final interview.

Edmund Blackadder: Oh, what went wrong?

Baldrick: I turned up. The other bloke was such an idiot he forgot to.

Edmund Blackadder: Yes, well I'm afraid my ambitions stretch slightly further than

professional idiocy in West London. I want to be remembered when I'm

dead. I want books written about me. I want songs sung about me. And

then hundreds of years from now I want episodes from my life to be

played out weekly at half past nine by some great heroic actor of the

age.

Baldrick: Yeah, and I could be played by some tiny tit in a beard.

Edmund Blackadder: Quite. Now, what's this message?

Baldrick: I thought you didn't want it?

Edmund Blackadder: Well I may do. It depends what it is.

Baldrick: So you do want it?

Edmund Blackadder: Well I don't know, do I? It depends what it is.

Baldrick: Well, I can't tell you unless you want to know, and you said you

didn't want to know, and now I'm so confused I don't know where I live

or what my name is.

Edmund Blackadder: Your name is of no importance and you live in the pipe in the

upstairs water-closet. (looks at note) Oh God! Was the man who gave

you this, by any chance, a red-headed lunatic with a kilt and a

claymore?

Baldrick: Yeah, and the funny thing was, he looked exactly like you.

Edmund Blackadder: My mad cousin McAdder. The most dangerous man ever to wear a skirt

in Europe.

Baldrick: Yeah, he come in here playing the bag-pipes, then he made a haggis,

sang Auld Lang Sayne and punched me in the face.

Edmund Blackadder: Why?

Baldrick: Because I called him a knock-kneed Scottish pillock.

Edmund Blackadder: An unwise action, Baldrick, since Mad McAdder is a homicidal maniac.

Baldrick: My mother told me to stand up to homicidal maniacs.

Edmund Blackadder: Yes. If this is the same mother who confidently claimed that you

were a tall handsome stallion of a man, I should treat her opinions

with extreme caution.

Baldrick: I love my mum.

Edmund Blackadder: And I love chops and sauce but I don't seek their advice. I hate it

when McAdder turns up. He's such a frog-eyed, beetle-browed

basket-case.

Baldrick: (in Blackadder's ear) He's the spitting image of you.

Edmund Blackadder: No he's not. We're about as similar as two completely... dissimilar

things in a pod. What's the old tartan throw-back banging on about

this time? (reads) "Have come South for the rebellion." Oh God!

Surprise, surprise... "Staying with Miggins. The time has come. Best

sword and Scotland. Insurrection... Blood... Large bowl of porridge...

Rightful claim to throne..." He's mad. He's mad. He's madder than Mad

Jack McMad the winner of last year's Mr Madman competition.

(The Prince's bell rings.)

Edmund Blackadder: Ah! The walrus awakes.

 

The Prince's Bedroom

--------------------

Prince Regent: Ah Blackadder. Notice anything unusual?

Edmund Blackadder: Yes sir, it's 11:30 in the morning and you're moving about. Is the

bed on fire?

Prince Regent: Well, I wouldn't know, I've been out *all night*. Guess what I've

been doing? Wraaarrhhhh...

Edmund Blackadder: Beagling, sir?

Prince Regent: Better even than that. Sink me Blackadder if I, if I haven't just

had the most wonderful evening of my life.

Edmund Blackadder: Tell me all sir.

Prince Regent: Well as you know when I set out I looked divine. At the party as I

passed all eyes turned.

Edmund Blackadder: And I daresay quite a few stomachs.

Prince Regent: Well that's right. And then these two ravishing beauties came up to

me and whispered in my ear.. that they loved me. (licks his lips)

Edmund Blackadder: And what happened after you woke up?

Prince Regent: Oh, (falls onto bed) this was no dream Blackadder. Five minutes

later I was in a coach flying through the London night bound for the

ladies' home.

Edmund Blackadder: And which home is this? A home for the elderly or a home for the

mentally disadvantaged?

Prince Regent: Oh no no no no no. This was Apseley House. Do you know it?

Edmund Blackadder: Yes sir. It is the seat of the Duke of Wellington. Those ladies I

fancy would be his nieces.

Prince Regent: Ooh, so you fancy them too? Well, I don't blame you. Bravo. I spent

a night of ecstasy with a pair of Wellingtons and I loved it.

Edmund Blackadder: Sir, it may interest you to know that the Iron Duke has always let

it be known that he will kill in cold blood anyone who takes sexual

advantage of any of his relatives.

Prince Regent: Yes, but Big-nose Wellington is in Spain fighting the French, he'll

never know.

Edmund Blackadder: On the contrary sir. Wellington triumphed six months ago.

Prince Regent: I'm dead.

Edmund Blackadder: It would seem so sir.

Prince Regent: I haven't got a prayer, have I Blackadder?

Edmund Blackadder: Against Throat-slasher Wellington? The finest blade His Majesty

commands? Not really no.

Prince Regent: Then I shall flee. How's your French Blackadder?

Edmund Blackadder: Parfait monsieur. But I fear France will be not far enough.

Prince Regent: Well how's your Mongolian?

Edmund Blackadder: Mmm, chang hatang motzo motzo. But I fear Wellington is a close

personal friend of the chief Mongol. They were at Eton together.

Prince Regent: I'm doomed. Doomed as the dodo.

(There is a knock on the door.)

Prince Regent: Oh my God, he's here, Wellington's here already!

(Baldrick enters with a letter.)

Prince Regent: Oh, Your Grace, forgive me. I didn't know what I was doing. I was a

mad, mad, sexually over-active fool.

Edmund Blackadder: Sir, it's Baldrick. You're perfectly safe.

Prince Regent: Well, hurrah!

Edmund Blackadder: (reads letter) Ah, until 6 o'clock tonight.

Prince Regent: Hurrooh.

Edmund Blackadder: "From the Supreme Commander, Allied Forces Europe. Sir, Prince or

pauper, when a man soils a Wellington he puts his foot in it. P.King's Servant:

This is not a joke. I do not find my name remotely funny, and people

who do end up dead. Close bracket. I challenge you to a duel tonight

at 18 hundred hours in which you will die. Yours with sincere

apologies for your impending violent slaughter, Arthur Wellesey, Duke

of Wellington."

Baldrick: Sounds a nice polite sort of bloke.

Prince Regent: (cries) Ahh ah ahhh haaa haaawww.

Edmund Blackadder: Oh, don't worry sir, please. Just consider that life is a valley of

woe filled with pain, misery, hunger and despair.

Prince Regent: Well not for me it bloody isn't! As far as I'm concerned life is a

big palace full of food, drink, and comfy sofas.

Baldrick: May I speak, sir?

Edmund Blackadder: Certainly not Baldrick! The Prince is about to die. The last thing

he wants to do in his final moments is exchange pleasantries with a

certified plum-duff.

Prince Regent: Easy Blackadder, let's hear him out.

Edmund Blackadder: Very well Baldrick. We shall hear you out, then throw you out.

Baldrick: Well, Your Majesty, I have a cunning plan which could get you out of

this problem.

Edmund Blackadder: Don't listen to him sir. It's a cruel proletarian trick to raise

your hopes. I shall have him shot the moment he's finished clearing

away your breakfast.

Prince Regent: No wait Blackadder. Perhaps this disgusting degraded creature is

some sort of blessing in disguise.

Edmund Blackadder: Well if he is, it's a very good disguise.

Prince Regent: After all, did not our Lord send a lowly earthworm to comfort Moses

in his torment?

Edmund Blackadder: (firmly) No.

Prince Regent: Well, it's the sort of thing he might have done. Well, come on Mr.

Spotty, speak.

Baldrick: Well, Your Majesty, I just thought - this Welliton bloke's been in

Europe for years. You don't know what he looks like. He don't know

what you looks like. So why don't you get someone else to fight the

duel instead of you?

Prince Regent: But I'm the Prince Regent! My portrait hangs on every wall!

Edmund Blackadder: Answer that, Baldrick.

Baldrick: Well my cousin Bert Baldrick, Mr Gainsborough's butler's dogsbody,

says that he's heard that all portraits look the same these days,

'cause they're painted to a romantic ideal rather than as a true

depiction of the idiosycratic facial qualities of the person in

question.

Edmund Blackadder: (impressed) Your cousin Bert obviously has a larger vocabulary than

you do, Baldrick.

Prince Regent: No, now, he's right damn him. Anybody could fight the duel and

Wellers would never know.

Edmund Blackadder: All the same sir, Baldrick's plan does seem to hinge on finding

someone willing to commit suicide on your behalf.

Prince Regent: Oh yes yes yes, but he would be fabulously rewarded. Money, titles,

castles..

Edmund Blackadder: A coffin, erm...

Baldrick: That's right, I thought maybe Mr. Blackadder himself would fancy the

job.

Prince Regent: What a splendid idea!

Edmund Blackadder: Excuse me Your Highness. Trouble with the staff.

(Baldrick and Blackadder leave the room. Blackadder grabs Baldrick by the

lapels.)

Edmund Blackadder: Baldrick, does it have to be this way? Our valued friendship ending

with me cutting you into long strips and telling the Prince that you

walked over a very sharp cattlegrid in an extremely heavy hat?

Baldrick: Mr. Blackadder, you was only just saying in the kitchen how you

wanted to rise again - now here the Prince is offering you the lot.

Edmund Blackadder: But, tiny tiny brain, the Iron Duke will kill me. To even think

about taking him on you'd have to be some kind of homicidal maniac who

was fantastically good at fighting, like McAdder, like McAdder...

(excited) Like McAdder could fight the duel for me!

(Blackadder re-enters the Prince's bedroom.)

Edmund Blackadder: (calmly) My apologies sir. I was just having a word with my

insurance people. Obviously I would be delighted to die on your

behalf.

Prince Regent: God's toenails Blackadder, I'm most damnably grateful. You won't

regret this you know.

Edmund Blackadder: Well that's excellent. There's just one point though sir, re: the

suicide policy. There's an unusual clause which states that the policy

holder must wear a big red wig and affect a Scottish accent in the

combat zone.

Prince Regent: Small print eh? Huh.

 

Mrs Miggins' Coffee Shop

------------------------

(Disarray. Flecks of porridge everywhere. Mrs. Miggins is sitting on a

table leaning back on the counter.)

Edmund Blackadder: Ah, Mrs. Miggins. Am I to gather from your look of pie-eyed

exhaustion and the globules of porridge hanging off the walls that my

cousin McAdder has presented his credentials?

Mrs. Miggins: Oh yes indeed sir. You've just missed him.

Edmund Blackadder: I trust he has been practising with his claymore.

Mrs. Miggins: Oooooh, I should say so! I'm as weary as a dog with no legs that's

just climbed Ben Nevis.

Edmund Blackadder: A claymore is a sword, Mrs. Miggins.

Mrs. Miggins: See this intricate wood carving of the infant Samuel at prayer? He

whittled that with the tip of his mighty weapon with his eyes closed.

Edmund Blackadder: Yes, exquisite.

Mrs. Miggins: He bid me bite on a plank, there was a whirlwind of steel, and

within a minute three men lay dead and I had a lovely new set of

gnashers. (grins woodenly)

Edmund Blackadder: Really. Just tell him to meet me here at 5 o'clock, will you? To

discuss an extremely cunning plan. If all goes well by tomorrow the

clan of McAdder will be marching back the high road back to glory.

Mrs. Miggins: Ooh lovely. I'll do you a nice packed lunch.

 

The Prince's Quarters

---------------------

(Blackadder enters, looks for the Prince in the lounge and walks through

into the bedroom.)

Edmund Blackadder: Good news, Your Majesty. This evening I will carve the Duke into an

attractive piece of furniture with some excellent dental work. Your

Highness? Your Highness!

(The bedroom door swings closed revealing the Prince hiding behind it,

his fingers in his ears.)

Prince Regent: Ooohh! Oh, thank God it's you Blackadder. I've had just word from

Wellington, he's on his way here now.

Edmund Blackadder: Ah, that's awkward. The Duke must believe from the very start that I

am you.

Prince Regent: Hmm, well, hmm, any ideas?

Edmund Blackadder: There's no alternative, we must swap clothes. (starts to take off

his jacket)

Prince Regent: Oh fantastic, yes, dressing up. I love it. It's just like that

story, ah, "The Prince And The Porpoise".

Edmund Blackadder: "..and the Pauper" sir.

Prince Regent: Oh yes! Yes yes yes, "The Prince and the Porpoise and the Pauper".

(They exchange clothes and wigs.)

Prince Regent: Excellent, excellent. Why, my own father wouldn't recognise me.

Edmund Blackadder: Your own father never can. He's mad.

Prince Regent: Oh yes, yes.

(They walk through into the lounge.)

Edmund Blackadder: Unfortunately, sir, you do realise that I shall have to treat you

like a servant?

Prince Regent: Oh, I think I can cope with that, thank you, Blackadder.

Edmund Blackadder: And you will have to get used to calling me "Your Highness", Your

Highness.

Prince Regent: "Your Highness, Your Highness."

Edmund Blackadder: No, just "Your Highness", Your Highness.

Prince Regent: That's what I said, "Your Highness, Your Highness", Your Highness,

Your Highness.

Edmund Blackadder: Yes, let's just leave that for now, shall we? Complicated stuff

obviously.

(Baldrick enters.)

Baldrick: Big Nose is here... But what?.. Who?.. Where?.. How?..

Edmund Blackadder: Don't even try to work it out Baldrick. Two people you know well

have exchanged coats and now you don't know which is which.

Prince Regent: I must say I'm pretty confused myself! Which one of us is

Wellington?

Edmund Blackadder: (exasperated) Wellington is the man at the door.

Prince Regent: Oh. And the porpoise?

Edmund Blackadder: Hasn't arrived yet sir. We'll just have to fill in as best we can

without it. Sir, if you would let the Duke in.

Prince Regent: Certainly, Your Highness, Your Highness. (leaves)

Edmund Blackadder: And you'd better get out too, Baldrick.

Baldrick: Yes, Your Highness, Your Highness. (leaves)

Edmund Blackadder: Oh God! If only they had a brain cell between them.

(The Prince ushers in Wellington.)

Prince Regent: The Duke of Wellington!

Duke of Wellington: Have I the honour of addressing the Prince Regent, sir?

Edmund Blackadder: You do.

Duke of Wellington: Hmm, congratulations, Highness, your bearing is far nobler than I'd

been informed... (to the Prince) Take my hat at once, sir, unless you

want to feel my boot in your throat! And be quicker about it than you

were with the door.

Prince Regent: Yes, my lord.

Duke of Wellington: I'm a Duke not a Lord! (clouts the Prince) Where were you trained,

the Dago dancing class? Shall I have my people thrash him for you,

Highness?

(The Prince signals "No" from behind Wellington.)

Edmund Blackadder: Errm.. No, he's very new. At the moment I'm sparing the rod.

Duke of Wellington: Ah! Fatal error. Give them an inch and before you know it they've

got a foot, much more than that and you don't have a leg to stand on.

Get out! (Clouts the Prince). Now sir, to business. I am informed that

your royal father grows ever more eccentric and at present believes

himself to be (reads) "a small village in Lincolnshire, commanding

spectacular views of the Nene valley." I therefore pass on my full

account of the war on to you, the Prince of Wales. (hands Blackadder a

saddle-bag)

Edmund Blackadder: Ah that's excellent. Thank you. (feels in bag, takes out a note) "We

won, signed Wellington." Well, that seems to sum it up very well. Was

there anything else?

Duke of Wellington: Two other trifling things Highness.. The men had a whip-round and

got you this. Well, what I mean is I had the men roundly whipped until

they got you this. It's a cigarillo case engraved with the regimental

crest of two crossed dead Frenchmen, emblazoned on a mound of dead

Frenchmen motif.

Edmund Blackadder: Thank you very much. And the other trifling thing?

Duke of Wellington: Your impending death, Highness.

Edmund Blackadder: Oh yes, of course, mind like a sieve.

Duke of Wellington: Mmm, I can not deny I'm looking forward to it. Britain has the

finest trade, the finest armies, the finest navies in the world. And

what do we have for royalty? A mad Kraut sausage sucker and a son who

can't keep his own sausage to himself. The sooner you're dead the

better.

Edmund Blackadder: You're very kind.

Duke of Wellington: Now, you're no doubt anxious to catch up with the news of the war. I

have here the most recent briefs from my general in the field...

Edmund Blackadder: Yes, well if you would just like to pop them in the laundry basket

on the way out. Tea?

Duke of Wellington: Yes, immediately.

(Blackadder rings the bell.)

Duke of Wellington: Now, let's turn to the second front, my lord. (unfolds a map on the

table)

Edmund Blackadder: Ah yes. (inspects map) Now, as I understand it Napoleon is in North

Africa. And Nelson is stationed in...

Duke of Wellington: Alaska. In case Bony should try to trick us by coming via the North

Pole.

Edmund Blackadder: Yes... Perhaps a preferable stratagem, Your Grace, might be to harry

him amid-ships as he leaves the Mediterranean. Trafalgar might be

quite a good spot...

Duke of Wellington: Trafalgar? Well, I'll mention it to Nelson. I must say I'm beginning

to regret the necessity of killing you, Your Highness. I'd been told

by everybody that the Prince was a confounded moron.

Edmund Blackadder: Oh, no no no no no.

(The Prince enters with the tea-tray.)

Duke of Wellington: Oh hell and buckshot! It's that tiresome servant of yours again.

Prince Regent: Ooh, budge up, budge up. (sits down next to Blackadder)

Duke of Wellington: How dare you, sir, sit in the presence of your betters! Get up!

Prince Regent: Oh yes, cripes. I forgot.

Duke of Wellington: You speak when you're spoken to. Unless you want to be flayed across

a gun carriage. Well? (hits the Prince)

Edmund Blackadder: Sir, sir, I fear you have been too long a soldier. We no longer

treat servants that way in London society.

Duke of Wellington: Why, I hardly touched the man!

Edmund Blackadder: Aah, I think you hit him very hard.

Duke of Wellington: Nonsense ,a hard hit would be like that! (hits the Prince, hard) I

only hit him like that. (once more hits him)

Edmund Blackadder: No sir, a soft hit would be like this. (hits the Prince) Whereas you

hit him like this. (and again, hard)

Prince Regent: (gets back to his feet) Please, um, I wonder if I might be excused,

Your Highness, Your Highness.

Edmund Blackadder: Certainly. (Aside) I'm sorry about that, sir, but one has to keep up

the pretence.

Prince Regent: No, no. I quite understand. You carry on the good work.

Edmund Blackadder: Very well sir. (once more hits him)

Duke of Wellington: Hang on, this is bloody coffee! I ordered tea! (grabs the Prince by

the ear and drags him back to the table) You really are a confounded

fool. Aren't you? I'd heard everywhere that the Prince was an imbecile

whereas his servant Blackadder was respected about town. Now that I

discover the truth I'm inclined to beat you to death. TEA!! (kicks the

Prince out of the door)

Edmund Blackadder: Tell me, do you ever stop bullying and shouting at the lower orders?

Duke of Wellington: NEVER! There's only one way to win a campaign: shout, shout and shout

again.

Edmund Blackadder: You don't think then that inspired leadership and tactical ability

have anything to do with it?

Duke of Wellington: NO! It's all down to shouting. WAAGGHH!

Edmund Blackadder: I hear that conditions in your army are appalling.

Duke of Wellington: Well I'm sorry, but those are my conditions and you'll just have to

accept them. That is until this evening when I shall kill you.

Edmund Blackadder: Hmm, who knows, maybe I shall kill you.

Duke of Wellington: Dyaa. Nonsense. I've never been so much as scratched, my skin is as

smooth as a baby's bottom. Which is more than you can say for my

bottom.

Edmund Blackadder: Yes. One point, sir. I should, perhaps, warn you that while duelling

I tend to put on my lucky wig and regimental accent.

Duke of Wellington: That won't help you. It would take a homicidal maniac in a claymore

and a kilt to get the better of me!

Edmund Blackadder: Well that's handy.

 

The Kitchens

------------

Prince Regent: I tell you Baldrick, I'm not leaving the kitchen until that man is

out of the house.

(There is a knock on the door and the bell rings.)

Baldrick: It's all right, Your Majesty, don't worry, I'll deal with this.

(The Prince hides behind the scullery door.)

Mrs. Miggins: Ah hello Baldrick. I've brought your buns. Where's Mr. Blackadder?

Oh, not upstairs still, running around after that port-swilling,

tadpole-brained smelly-boots?

Baldrick: (carefully) I don't know who you mean.

Mrs. Miggins: Prince George, Baldrick. His boots smell so bad a man would need to

have his nose amputated before taking them off. Well, that's what Mr.

Blackadder says.

Baldrick: As a joke.

Mrs. Miggins: Didn't you write a little poem about him last week?

Baldrick: No I didn't.

Mrs. Miggins: Ooh you did:

In the Winter it's cool,

In the Summer it's hot,

But all the year round,

Prince George is a clot. (laughs)

Baldrick: A lovely. I said Prince George is a lovely.

Mrs. Miggins: Oh well. I'd better be off anyway. Tell Mr. Blackadder to expect

Mr. McAdder at five o'clock. Just as soon as that fat Prussian truffle

pig has got his snout wedged into a bucket of tea-cakes. (makes

grunting noises)

Baldrick: (calls after her) I think it must be next door you're wanting,

strange woman who I've never seen before Mrs. Miggins.

Prince Regent: (sharply) Baldrick!

Baldrick: Yes, Your Highness?

Prince Regent: Is it true? Did you really write a poem about how lovely I am?

Baldrick: (fondly) Yes, and Mr. Blackadder loves you too. (smiles sweetly)

Prince Regent: Well I must say. I find that very touching. I do.

(The bell rings again.)

Prince Regent: I wish they wouldn't keep on doing that.

 

The Prince's Lounge

-------------------

Duke of Wellington: Well goodbye sir. And may the best man win. I.e. me.

Prince Regent: Your tea, sir.

Duke of Wellington: You're late! Where the hell have you been for it, India? (hits him)

Edmund Blackadder: Or Ceylon? (also hits the Prince)

Duke of Wellington: Or China? (kicks the Prince, who falls down onto the coffee-table)

And don't bother to show me the way out. I don't want to die of old

age before I get to the front door.

 

Mrs. Miggins' Coffee Shop

-------------------------

(Blackadder enters, dressed in his normal clothes.)

Edmund Blackadder: Ah! Miggins. So where's McAdder? I thought he was going to be here

at five o'clock.

Mrs. Miggins: Yes, I'm sorry. He's just popped out. You look ever so similar to

each other you know, it's quite eerie.

Edmund Blackadder: (annoyed) Look, did you tell him to be here or not?

Mrs. Miggins: I did, you just keep missing each other. I can't imagine why.

Mc Adder (enters) I'll tell you why. It's because there's no coffee shop in

England big enough for two Blackadders.

Edmund Blackadder: Ah! Good day, cousin McAdder. I trust you are well.

Mc Adder Aye, well enough.

Edmund Blackadder: And Morag?

Mc Adder She bides fine.

Edmund Blackadder: And how stands that mighty army, the clan McAdder?

Mc Adder They're both well.

Edmund Blackadder: I always thought that Jamie and Angus were such fine boys.

Mc Adder Angus is a girl. So tell me cousin, I hear you have a cunning plan.

Edmund Blackadder: I do, I do. I want you to take the place of the Prince Regent and

kill the Duke of Wellington in a duel.

Mc Adder Aye, and what's in it for me?

Edmund Blackadder: Enough cash to buy the Outer Hebrides. What do you think?

Mc Adder Fourteen shillings and six-pence? Well, it's tempting. But I've got

an even better plan. Why don't I pretend to be the Duke of Wellington

and kill the Prince of Wales in a duel? Then I could kill the King and

be crowned with the ancient stone bonnet of McAdder.

Mrs. Miggins: And I shall wear the granite gown and limestone bodice of MacMiggins,

Queen of all the herds.

Edmund Blackadder: Look, for God's sake, McAdder, you're not Rob Roy. You're a top kipper

salesman with a reputable firm of Aberdeen fishmongers. Don't throw it

all away. If you kill the Prince they'll just send the bailiffs round

and arrest you.

Mc Adder Oh blast, I forgot the bailiffs.

Edmund Blackadder: So we can return to the original plan then?

Mc Adder No, I'm not interested. I'd rather go to bed with the Loch Lomond

monster. And besides I have to be back in the office on Friday. I

promised Mr. McNaulty I'd shift a particularly difficult bloater for

him. Forget the whole thing. I'm off home with Miggsy.

Mrs. Miggins: Yes, yes. Show me the glen where the kipper roams free. And forget

Morag forever.

Mc Adder No, never. Oh, I must do right by Morag. We must return to Scotland

and you must fight in the old Highland way - bare breasted and each

carrying an eight pound baby.

Mrs. Miggins: Oh, yes, yes. I love babies. (kisses McAdder)

Mc Adder You're a woman of spirit! I look forward to burying you in the old

Highland manner. Farewell Blackadder, you spineless goon! (they leave)

Edmund Blackadder: Oh God! Fortune vomits on my eiderdown once more.

 

The Prince's Lounge

-------------------

(Blackadder enters, dressed as the Prince.)

Prince Regent: Ah, Blackadder. It has been a wild afternoon full of strange omens.

I dreamt that a large eagle circled the room three times and then got

into bed with me and took all the blankets. And then I saw that it

wasn't an eagle at all but a large black snake. Also Duncan's horses

did turn and eat each other. As usual. Good portents for your duel, do

you think?

Edmund Blackadder: Not very good sir. I'm afraid the duel is off.

Prince Regent: OFF?

Edmund Blackadder: As in "sod". I'm not doing it.

Prince Regent: By thunder, here's a pretty game. You will stay, sir, and do duty

by your Prince. Or I shall...

Edmund Blackadder: Or what? You port-brained twerp. I've looked after all my life. Even

when we were babies I had to show which bit of your mother was serving

the drinks.

Prince Regent: (kneels) Please please. You've got to help me. I don't want to die.

I've got so much to give. I want more time.

Edmund Blackadder: A poignant plea sir. Enough to melt the stoniest of hearts. But the

answer, I'm afraid, must remain: "You're going to die, fat pig."

Prince Regent: Oh, wait, wait, wait. I'll give you everything.

Edmund Blackadder: Everything?

Prince Regent: Everything.

Edmund Blackadder: The money, the castles,the jewellery?

Prince Regent: Yes.

Edmund Blackadder: The highly artistic but also highly illegal set of French

lithographs?

Prince Regent: Everything.

Edmund Blackadder: The amusing clock where the little man comes out and drops his

trousers every half hour?

Prince Regent: Yes, yes, alright.

Edmund Blackadder: Very well, I accept. A man may fight for many things: his country,

his principles, his friends, the glistening tear on the cheek of a

golden child. But personally I'd mud wrestle my own mother for a ton

of cash, an amusing clock, and a sack of French porn. You're on.

Prince Regent: Hurrah!

 

The Duel

--------

Edmund Blackadder: Right Baldrick, now here's the plan. When he offers me the swords, I

kick him in the nuts and you set fire to the building. In the

confusion we claim a draw.

Baldrick: Yes.

Duke of Wellington: Ah, Your Highness. Let's be about our business.

Edmund Blackadder: Now don't forget Baldrick. You (motions the striking of a match)

when I (raises knee).

Duke of Wellington: Come sir. Choose your stoker.

(Wellington holds out a case containing two pink, fluffy cannon stokers.)

Edmund Blackadder: What, are we going to tickle each other to death?

Duke of Wellington: No sir. We fight with cannon.

Edmund Blackadder: But I thought we were fighting with swords.

Duke of Wellington: Swords! What do you think this is, the middle ages? Only girls fight

with swords these days. Stand by your gun sir. Hup two three. Hup two

three.

Edmund Blackadder: Wait a minute, what the...

Duke of Wellington: Stand by cannon for loading procedure... Stoke. Muzzle. Wrench.

(Carries on in this way while Blackadder is talking) Crank the storm

barrel. Pull tee bar.

Edmund Blackadder: "Congratulations on choosing the Armstrong Whitworth four-pounder

cannonette. Please read the instructions carefully and it should give

years of trouble free maiming."

Duke of Wellington: Check elevation. Chart trajectory. Prime fuse. Aim...

Edmund Blackadder: Look, wait a minute.

Duke of Wellington: FIRE!

(The cannon fires. Blackadder drops to the ground. Mournful music strikes

up.)

Baldrick: Mr. B., Mr. B.! Sir, please help me get his coat off.

Edmund Blackadder: Leave it Baldrick. It doesn't matter.

Baldrick: Yes it does. Blood's hell to shift. I want to get it in to soak.

Duke of Wellington: You die like a man sir. In combat.

Edmund Blackadder: You think so? Dammit, we must build a better world. When will the

killing end?

Duke of Wellington: You don't think I too dream of peace? You don't think that I too

yearn to end this damn dirty job we call soldiering?

Edmund Blackadder: Frankly, no. My final wish on this Earth is that Baldrick be sold,

to provide funds for a Blackadder foundation to promote peace, and to

do research into the possibility of an automatic machine for cleaning

shoes. And so I charge... (slumps back)

Duke of Wellington: His Highness is dead.

Edmund Blackadder: (the music scratches to a halt) Actually, I'm not sure I am.

Fortunately that cigarillo box you gave me was placed exactly at the

point where the cannon-ball struck. (produces a very dented case). I

always said smoking was good for you.

Duke of Wellington: Ah ha ha. Honour is satisfied. God clearly preserves you for

greatness. His Highness is saved. Hurrah.

Prince Regent: (enters) Umm, no actually it's me, I'm His Highness. Well done

Bladders, glad you made it.

Duke of Wellington: What in the name of Bonapartes balls is this fellow doing now?

Prince Regent: Ahh, no no, I really am His Highness. It was all just larks, and

darn fine larks at that I thought.

Duke of Wellington: I have never, in all my campaigns, encountered such insolence! Your

master survives an honourable duel and you cheek him like a French

whoopsy! I can contain myself no longer! (draws his pistol and shoots

the Prince)

Prince Regent: I die. I hope men will say of me that I did duty by my country.

Edmund Blackadder: I think that's pretty unlikely sir. If I was you I'd try for

something a bit more realistic.

Prince Regent: Like what?

Edmund Blackadder: That you hope men will think of you.. as a bit of a thicky.

Prince Regent: All right, I'll hope that then. Toodle-oo everyone. Let you know

and all that. (dies)

(Horns sound.)

King's Servant: Here for His Majesty, The King of England.

King George III: Someone told me my son was here. I wish him to marry this rose bush.

I want to make the wedding arrangements.

Edmund Blackadder: (thinking quickly) Here I am, Daddy. This is the Iron Duke,

Wellington, commander of all your armed forces.

King George III: Yes I recognised the enormous conk. Ha ha ha.

Duke of Wellington: He's a hero. A man of wit and discretion.

King George III: Bravo. You know, my son, for the first time in my life I have a real

fatherly feeling about you. People may say I'm stark raving mad and

say the word Penguin after each sentence, but I believe that we two

can make Britain Great - you as the Prince Regent and I as King

Penguin.

Edmund Blackadder: Well, let's hope eh? Wellington, will you come and dine with us at

the palace? My family have a lot to thank you for.

Duke of Wellington: Dyahh, with great pleasure. Your father may be as mad as a balloon,

but I think you have the makings of a great king.

King George III: Eine wunderbare Hochzeit. Ja.

Edmund Blackadder: Oh and Baldrick? Clear away that dead butler will you.

(The King, Blackadder and Wellington exit leaving Baldrick cradling the

Prince's head)

Baldrick: (looks up) There's a new star in heaven tonight... A new freckle on

the nose of the giant pixie.

Prince Regent: Erm! No, actually Baldrick, I'm not dead. You see I had a cigarillo

box too, look. (rummages in his jacket) Oh damn, I must have left it

on the dresser... (dies)

 



For the

BENEFIT of SEVERAL VIEWERS

MR. CURTIS & MR. ELTON'S

Much admir'd Comedy

B L A C K A D D E R

T h e T H I R D

OR

DUEL and DUALITY

was performed with appropriate Scenery Dresses etc.

by

EDMUND BLACKADDER,

butler to the Prince,

Mr. ROWAN ATKINSON

Baldrick, a dogsbody, Mr. TONY ROBINSON

The Prince Regent, their master, Mr. HUGH LAURIE

Mrs. Miggins, a coffee shoppekeeper,

Miss. HELEN ATKINSON-WOOD

The Duke of Wellington, a famous soldier,

Mr. STEPHEN FRY

King George III, a Mad Monarch,

Mr. GERTAN KLAUBER

MUSIC (never perform'd before), Mr. HOWARD GOODALL

designer of graphics, Mr. GRAHAM McCALLUM

buyer of properties, Miss. JUDY FARR

supervisor of production operatives, Mr. ALLAN FLOOD

designer of visual effects, Mr. STUART MURDOCH

designer of costumes, Miss. ANNIE HARDINGE

designer of make-up, Miss. VICKY POCOCK

mixer of vision, Miss. SUE COLLINS

supervisor of cameras, Mr. RON GREEN

editor of videotape, Mr. CHRIS WADSWORTH

director of lighting, Mr. RON BRISTOW

co-ordinator of technicalities, Mr. RICHARD WILSON

supervisor of sound, Mr. PETER BARVILLE

assistant to production, Miss. NIKKI COCKCROFT

assistant manager of floors, Mr. DUNCAN COOPER

manager of production, Miss. OLIVIA HILL

the designer, Mr. ANTONY THORPE

the director, Miss. MANDIE FLETCHER

the producer, Mr. LLOYD

To conclude with Rule Britannia in full chorus

NO MONEY RETURN'D

(C) BBC MCMLXXXVII

 

-- August 1992

-- Transcription ????

-- Corrections James Kew <james@sst.ph.ic.ac.uk>