...est individual that has
ever appeared in this court.
Hello mr. E.
- Name?
- Baldrick, your honour.
- First name?
- Drop dead.
I beg your pardon?
That's my first name.
I think it is anyway, 'cause
when people see me,
they shout out:
"Drop dead, Baldrick!"
Very well, mr. D. Baldrick,
you stand accused of great stupidity.
Thank you, your honour.
I can't tell you what it is
unless you want me to tell you
and you told me you didn't
want me to tell you and...
(...) thatwaswrong and
Ibegyourpardon and...
We must leave at once.
The shadows lenghten and we have a
long and arduous journey ahead of us.
Farewell, dear master,
and dare I say, friend?
Farewell, brave liberator,
and, dare I say it: butler?
I can't get through the (...) door.
Not an impressive start
I'm sure you'll agree.
What's worse it seems to have rubbed off
on your master and made him stupid too.
Oh god...
Oh god could I start again?
He's dead, sir. - Dead?
- Yes, your higness.
Ah what bad luck.
We were rather getting on.
We must move at once.
In which direction?
Sir Gerald represents... sir Gerald,
he's not sir Gerald. - Sir Gerald??
He actually was meant to be here.
Do you have any explanation as
to why he was failed to appear?
No, your honour, but he
did give me this note.
Ah good.
Read it.
You can't read, can you?
Well not as such your honour, but
I can sing "Mary had a little lamb",
with some extremely
amusing naughty lyrics.
Pass the note over will you?
"From Edmund Blackadder to
lord chief justice Edmonds.
Dear sir, the reason I cannot
be present is because
I've got far better things
to do with my time...
then turn up at your stupid court
you overdressed beardy-weardy."
I'd look more impressed if he didn't
waste so much of other people's time.
Crisis, Baldrick, crisis! No marriage,
no money, and more bills.
For the first time in my life,
I've decided to follow a...
Oh (...) how do I put this on?
Crisis, Baldrick, crisis! No marriage,
no money, and more bills.
For the first time in my life,
I've decided to follow
a suggestion of yours.
What do you make of that?
I don't know your honour.
But mr. B. does say it's very difficult
to get things right when I'm around
because of the fetid smell
of boneheaded stupidity.
So are you to blame for this as well?
Enter!
Doctor Johnson, your highness.
Ah, doctor Johnson. Damn cold day!
Indeed it is sir, but a very fine one.
For I celebrated last night the...
- What?
- I can't remember.
Yes, that is my fault your honour.
Think about it, I mean: The cleverest
man in the whole of England...
...thinks he's coming to
visit the prince of Wales,
and when he knocks at the door, it's
opened by a dung ball in trousers.
Merry christmas VT!
m*rder, m*rder, m*rder!
m*rder... oh, sh*t...
...door away!
Do you have anything to say
before your sentence?
No I don't your honour.
But mr. Blackadder did ask me
to give you a special message.
Which is?
"Show the little git no mercy,
death penalty is too good for
this cauliflower craniumed creep."
Excellent, I shall take his advice.
Mr. D. Baldrick of ,
Rubbish Way, London,
I condemn you to death.
Thank you very much your honour,
it's too good for me.