Carry On Henry

Synopsis: Henry VIII has just married Marie of Normandy, and is eager to consummate their marriage. Unfortunately for Henry, she is always eating garlic, and refuses to stop. Deciding to get rid of her in his usual manner, Henry has to find some way of doing it without provoking war with Marie's cousin, the King of France. Perhaps if she had an affair...
Genre: Comedy, Romance
Director(s): Gerald Thomas
Production: Adder
 
IMDB:
6.2
GP
Year:
1971
89 min
463 Views


# Big band version of Greensleeves

# Solemn drum roll

# Trumpet fanfare

Oh, come on. What's keeping her?

You know the Queen, sire.

Never on time for anything.

Well, this is the last time she'll keep me waiting!

Yes, indeed, sire.

Unless she's late for her own funeral. Ha, ha!

(Gurgling)

Oh, blimey, what a time

to have one of her throats!

- She always was a weakly woman, sire.

- You're telling me. Once weekly.

Every time I felt like it, it was,

"Not tonight, dear. I've got a headache."

No wonder Your Majesty did not

consummate the marriage.

Yeah, marvellous, innit?

After six months of married life,

the only thing I'm having off is her head.

# Trumpet fanfare

Nice day for it, Your Majesty.

Hardly any wind.

- Good crowd, too.

- Thank you, my Lord Cardinal.

But I feel we can dispense with the commentary.

# Drum roll

I can manage, thank you, Cardinal.

I don't want you to trip and hurt yourself, ma'am.

# Drum roll

Come on, then.

Do you, Henry, take this woman to...

I do, and so does she.

Right, love, that's it. Through there.

Her figure's all right. What about her face?

Oh, I am assured, sire,

it is the fairest in all Normandy.

- What about her...

- Fullest in all Normandy.

- Has she been chaste?

- All over Normandy.

But I am assured never caught.

- Call me at eight o'clock.

- Very well.

Next Thursday.

Marie, Queen of England.

Oh, hello.

Oh! Who are you?

Permit me to introduce myself, madam.

Sir Roger de Lodgerley.

Oh, how do you do?

The King's personal equerry, madam,

and already your most devoted admirer.

How nice.

May I? Thank you.

Other one.

Splendid. And one more for luck. Ha, ha!

Splendid, splendid. But if I might suggest,

just a little more...

Ooh... Perfect, perfect.

- I can be a one when I want.

- Yes, I thought you might be one.

Now, madam, as regards your actual duties...

Sir Roger, you seem to forget

I was brought up at the French court.

In fact, I had an excellent position there.

Oh, I know! And I hear

the French position is very good. Ha, ha!

Still here, I see, Sir Roger?

I was instructing Her Majesty in procedure,

Your Grace.

Thank you very much, Sir Roger.

I trust everything is to your satisfaction,

Your Grace?

- I'll let you know later.

- You won't want that, will you?

- What?

- That.

- Eh? Oh, no, course not.

- Oh, thank you.

I suppose you're anxious to bed your queen.

- Naturally.

- Well, if you should want anything,

- I'm only next door.

- I don't think we'll trouble you further tonight.

Hm, hm, hm! Ha, ha, ha!

And how's my beautiful queen, then?

Well and eager to please, my lord.

Good.

- Here we go, then.

- Oh, just one moment, my lord.

There is something I must do first.

Eh? Oh, yes, right.

Well, I'll just go and wash my hands, then.

(Trickling)

- Well, all done, then?

- Yes, my lord.

I have waited for this moment for so long.

- Cor blimey!

- Why, what is it? What ails my lord?

- That smell! What have you been eating?

- Smell?

It is merely garlic.

- Garlic?

- Yes, it is an old custom in Normandy.

I adore it! And taken regularly,

no germs will come near one.

- I don't blame 'em!

- Not only that,

it is said to greatly increase

one's sexual appetite.

I've got news for you. Come the morning,

you're going to be starving.

What means my lord?

Nothing. Just don't bother to make

any more hairdressing appointments. Roger!

Sir Roger!

Sir Roger, where are you?

Come, come, my Lord Cardinal.

A glass of wine to celebrate.

You rang, m'lord?

Ah, yes, Mistress Scrub.

Wine for myself and my Lord Cardinal.

Oh, yes, m'lord.

- Will that be all, m'lord?

- For the nonce.

Oh! Ooh, Your Eminence!

Come, let us drink to the King's marriage

and an early issue.

- You will not drink?

- After you, my lord.

My dear Cardinal, you surely don't suspect

that I, your friend,

would have poisoned your wine?

Men in our position have enemies everywhere.

- One cannot be too careful.

- There.

Satisfied?

To issue.

- Issue.

- All fall down!

Oh, my God!

Cromwell, Wolsey!

Where are you, you blackguards?

Oh, ho! Methinks the issue is already in doubt.

I'll have your bleedin' heads for this.

Why, sire? What is wrong?

Is not this mating successful?

Successful?

As far as the Queen is concerned, I've had it.

Oh, well, it's all right, then.

Will you shut up and listen? She has got to go.

Go? But why?

Why? Because it turns out that Her most

gracious Majesty, Marie, Queen of England,

wife of the Defender of the Faith,

is also a basher of the garlic.

Garlic? What is garlic?

A small bulb-bearing plant of the onion family,

used extensively by the French.

I don't give a damn what it is!

All I know is I had one pong of it

and my ambition wilted.

But this need not be a serious problem, sire.

I'm sure if the Cardinal here

were to have a word with Her Majesty.

Oh, yes, of course. I'll go immediately.

I am confident he will be able to persuade her

to give up this odious habit, sire.

Probably. But I doubt I'll ever fancy it again.

Enter, my lord.

Pardon this intrusion, madam,

but I come on a matter of some urgency.

Not at all, my lord.

We are pleased to receive you.

(Coughs) Phew!

It was all going marvellously.

There she was, lying in bed waiting for it.

I said to myself, "At last, this is it, Harry boy."

I'm just about to grab her... and boof!

- Right in the kisser.

- Ooh!

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Talbot Rothwell

Talbot Nelson Conn Rothwell, OBE (12 November 1916 – 28 February 1981) was an English screenwriter. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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