Blackadder: The Cavalier Years

bBLACKADDER

"The Cavalier Years"/b

- Baldrick!

- Yes, sir?

Get me some mulled ale, will you?

I'm freezing.

How's the King, sir?

About as comfortable

as can be expected...

...for a man who's spending the winter

in a blackcurrant bush.

Do you think

the Roundheads will find him?

Certainly not. I've assured him

that he's as likely to be caught...

...as a fox being chased by a pack

of one-legged hunting tortoises.

Is that true?

Yes, of course it's true.

Have you ever known me

to lie to the King?

Yes.

- No.

- Exactly.

He's absolutely safe as long as

you keep your fat mouth shut.

You can trust me, sir.

Right, Baldrick,

I'm off to answer the call of nature.

If, by any freak chance, Cromwell

drops in here for a cup of milk...

...in the next 90 seconds,

remember:

- "The King is not hiding here."

- Yes, sir.

# Greensleeves... #

Good evening, citizen.

I am Oliver Cromwell.

My men have surrounded your house,

and I'm looking for royalist scum.

Is the King hiding here?

No.

On pain of death and damnation,

are you absolutely sure?

Yes, I am.

I see.

Well then, my proud beauty,

you won't mind if my men

come in from the cold, will you?

Men, come in from the cold,

will you?

Now, we'll all have a cup of milk

by your fireside.

All right, but don't touch

the purple cup.

- Why not?

- That's the King's.

Thank you, citizen. You may

leave me alone with King Charles.

Mr. Cromwell,

how delightful to see you again.

Don't get up. Don't get up.

Tell me, have you come far?

I have, sir.

From country squire

to Lord Protector of England.

Fascinating,

absolutely fascinating.

Tell me, what exactly

does a lord protector do?

He spells your doom, sir.

He spells my doom? Wonderful!

That's particularly exciting...

...because so many people these days

can't spell at all.

Particularly in the inner cities,

which is my area of interest.

Speak, sir. But all your fine words

won't save you from the scaffold.

Jolly good! Fascinating!

Carry on.

A priest, sir. To help you make

your peace with God before you die.

- Oh, hello.

- Your Majesty,

I've arranged for certain monies

to be paid to allow you to escape.

Blackadder!

You're dressed as a priest!

How dangerous and stupid...

...and perverted!

It's just like school.

Sire, this is a matter

of life and death.

Nonsense, Blackadder.

I don't think any jury in England...

...would bring in a verdict

of guilty against me.

Your Majesty,

the verdict of the jury.

So, what does it say?

Guilty or not guilty?

I'll give you two guesses.

Not guilty.

One more guess.

Oh, damn!

One measly civil war

in the entire history of England,

and I'm on the wrong bloody side!

Something wrong, sir?

Yes, Baldrick. If the King dies,

we royalists are doomed.

We will enter

a hideous age of Puritanism.

They'll close all the theatres.

Lace handkerchiefs for men

will be illegal.

And I won't be able to find

a friendly face to sit on...

...this side of Boulogne.

If they so much as suspect

our loyalties,

our property will be forfeit

and we'll be for the chop.

Oh, I love chops.

Baldrick, your brain...

...is like the four-headed man-eating

haddock fish beast of Aberdeen.

- In what way?

- It doesn't exist.

- Oh, God. What will we do?

- Don't despair, something'll pop up.

Not under Puritanism it won't.

We must do something.

We must do something, otherwise

the Blackadders are as doomed as that ant.

What ant?

That one.

So this is the day

of the execution of Charles I.

Absolutely not, Your Majesty.

Those Roundhead traitors...

...have one final hurdle

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