Ah, my lord Melchett!
And you've brought me the results
of the local peasant's poll.
Come, let's see what
my subjects think of me.
I'm afraid, king Margaret,
...your majesty's paling yet at the
same time cherubic countenance...
...will be decidedly unenthused...
...by the perusal of this
unedifying electoral missive.
You know, sometimes,
mylord Melchett,
I don't understand a
bloody word you're saying.
Oh, tish, madam, tish.
Then, that's why I made you head of
the civil service in the first place.
And a most celibate, worthy, and
bumptiously fluffy appointment
it was madam, if I may say so.
You may not.
This is a disaster!
Nobody likes me anymore.
I like you, my little lambkin.
I know stupid people like me.
I want clever people to like me too.
Lord Melchett, I'm holding you
personally responsible for this.
You're going to have to suck up on it.
No madam, please, no madam.
Yes, you know what you have to do,
and in the meantime send for...
...Edmund Blackadder!
May I ask your serene majesty
where mylord Melchett was going?
He seemed to me to have soiled
his britches in such fashion...
...as to make a Hereford cow envious.
I've sent him off to die
a most awful death.
Ah, and would that be the regulation
disembowelling or the more merciful
hanging drawing and quartering, liver
to be ripped out by wild dogs death?
No, much worse. I've made him
a pelt tax collector in Scotland.
It seems, mylord Blackadder, my
subjects don't like me very much.
Really madam, your majesty
does surprise me.
I know it's incredible, but it's true.
So I want to know why
they don't like me.
Could it be ma'am that they
find you isolated, remote,
and totally out of touch
with what they're thinking?
That's ridiculous. I know
everything they're thinking.
What else are they thinking?
- I think your majesty...
that you're about as popular as king
Herod at an under five birthday party.
Blackadder, I want some ideas
to make me more popular.
What about a few beheadings, that's
always popular with the groundlings?
Since mylords Prior, Pym, and Lawson
got the chop, there aren't many left.
Might I recommend that your
majesty take a small holiday?
But who'd look after my subjects
while I was away Blackadder?
I couldn't possibly think
of anyone your majesty.
I would my little poppet pea pod.
I'd make sure they wash
behind the ears, go to bed early,
and I'd win them after they'd
suckled heartily at my breast.
Bagsy me at the end of the queue.
Don't be silly nursey!
I banned free milk
yonks and yonks ago.
But your majesty, why
not someone like... me?
But I don't know anyone
like you, except you.
And you're wicked, heartless,
unfeeling and quite quite ruthless.
You've got the job!
Nursey, let's get our
frilly corsets ready.
Thank you, your majesty.