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Whoa there! Halt! Who goes there? It is l, Arthur, son of Uther Pendragon|from the castle of Camelot. King of the Britons!|Defeater of the Saxons! Sovereign of all England! - Pull the other one.|- I am. This is my trusty servant Patsy. We have ridden the length|and breadth of the land... in search of knights who will join me|in my court at Camelot. I must speak with your lord and master. - What, ridden on a horse?|- Yes. You're using coconuts. - What?|- You're banging together two coconuts. So? We have ridden since the snows|of winter covered this land. Through the kingdom of Mercia-- - Where'd you get the coconuts?|- We found them. In Mercia?|The coconut's tropical. - What do you mean?|- This is a temperate zone. The swallow may|fly south with the sun... or the house martin or the plover|may seek warmer climes in winter... yet these are not strangers|to our land. Are you suggesting coconuts migrate? Not at all.|They could be carried. What? A swallow carrying a coconut? It could grip it by the husk. It's not a question|of where he grips it. It's a simple question of weight ratios. A five-ounce bird could not carry|a one-pound coconut. It doesn't matter. Tell your master that Arthur|from the court of Camelot is here. In order to maintain|air speed velocity... a swallow needs to beat its wings|43 times every second. Please! - Am I right?|- I'm not interested. It could be carried|by an African swallow. An African swallow, maybe,|but not a European swallow. - That's my point.|- I agree with that. Will you ask your master if he wants|to join my court at Camelot? But then, of course,|African swallows are nonmigratory. So they couldn't bring|a coconut back anyway. Wait a minute. Supposing two swallows|carried it together! No, they'd have to have it on a line. Simple. They just use|a strand of creeper. -Held under the dorsal guiding feathers?|-Why not? Bring out your dead! Bring out your dead! Ninepence. - Here's one.|- Ninepence. - I'm not dead!|- What? - Nothing. Here's our ninepence.|- I'm not dead! - Here. He says he's not dead.|- Yes, he is. - I'm not.|- He isn't? - He will be soon. He's ill.|- I'm getting better. You'll be stone dead in a moment. I can't take him like that.|It's against regulations. - I don't want to go on the cart!|- Don't be such a baby. - I can't take him.|- I feel fine. - Do us a favor.|- I can't. Can you hang around?|He won't be long. I've got to get to Robinson's.|They've lost nine today. - When is your next round?|- Thursday. - I think I'll go for a walk.|- You're not fooling anyone. - Isn't there something you can do?|- I feel happy! - Thanks very much.|- Not at all. See you on Thursday. - Who's that?|- I don't know. Must be a king. - Why?|- He hasn't got shit all over him. - Old woman !|- Man ! Man. Sorry.|What knight lives in that castle there? - I'm 37.|- What? I'm 37. I'm not old. - I can't just call you "man."|- You could say "Dennis." - I didn't know you were called Dennis.|- You didn't bother to find out. I said "Sorry" about the old woman,|but from behind, you looked-- What I object to is that you|automatically treat me like an inferior. - I am king.|- Oh, king. Very nice. And how'd you get that?|By exploiting the workers. By hanging on to|outdated imperialist dogma... which perpetuates the economic|and social differences in our society. - If there's ever going to be progress--|- There's lovely filth down here. - How do you do?|- How do you do, good lady? I'm Arthur, king of the Britons.|Whose castle is that? - King of who?|- The Britons. -Who are the Britons?|-We are all Britons, and I am your king. I didn't know we had a king. I thought|we were an autonomous collective. You're fooling yourself.|We're living in a dictatorship. A self-perpetuating autocracy|in which the working classes-- There you go bringing class|into it again. That's what it's all about. Please, good people. I am in haste.|Who lives in that castle? No one lives there. - Then who is your lord?|- We don't have a lord. What? We're an anarcho-syndicalist commune. We take turns to act as sort of|an executive officer for the week. But all the decisions|of that officer have to be ratified... at a special biweekly meeting... by a simple majority|in the case of internal affairs. - But by 2/3rd's majority--|- Be quiet! - I order you to be quiet!|- Order? Who does he think he is? - I am your king.|- I didn't vote for you. - You don't vote for kings.|- How'd you become king, then? The Lady of the Lake... her arm clad in the purest|shimmering samite... held aloft Excalibur|from the bosom of the water... signifying by Divine Providence... that l, Arthur,|was to carry Excalibur. That is why I am your king. Strange women lying in ponds,|distributing swords... is no basis for government. Supreme executive power derives|from a mandate from the masses... not from some farcical aquatic ceremony. Quiet! You can't expect to wield|supreme executive power... because some watery tart|threw a sword at you. Shut up! If I went around saying|I was an emperor... just because some moistened bint lobbed|a scimitar at me, they'd put me away. Shut up!|Will you shut up? Now we see the violence|inherent in the system. Shut up! Come see the violence inherent in|the system. Help! I'm being repressed! - Bloody peasant!|- What a giveaway! Did you hear that? That's what I'm on about.|Did you see him repressing me? You fight with the strength|of many men, Sir Knight. I am Arthur, king of the Britons. I seek the finest and bravest knights|in the land... to join me at Camelot. You have proved yourself worthy.|Will you join me? You make me sad. So be it.|Come, Patsy. - None shall pass.|- What? None shall pass. I have no quarrel with you,|but I must cross this bridge. Then you shall die. I command you, as king of the Britons,|to stand aside! I move for no man. So be it! - Now stand aside, worthy adversary.|- 'Tis but a scratch. - A scratch? Your arm's off.|- No, it isn't. - What's that, then?|- I've had worse. - You liar!|- Come on, you pansy! Victory is mine. We thank Thee, Lord,|that in Thy mercy-- - Come on.|- What? Have at you! You are indeed brave,|but the fight is mine. Had enough, eh? You stupid bastard,|you've got no arms left. - Yes, I have.|- Look! It's just a flesh wound. - Stop that!|- Chicken! I'll have your leg! Right! - Right!|- I'll do you for that. - You'll what?|- Come here. - Are you going to bleed on me?|- I'm invincible! You're loony. The Black Knight always triumphs! Have at you!|Come on, then. All right, we'll call it a draw. Come, Patsy. I see. Running away, eh? You yellow bastards! Come back here|and take what's coming to you ! I'll bite your legs off! A witch! A witch! A witch! We found a witch ! We've got a witch!|A witch! A witch! We have found a witch.|May we burn her? - How do you know she is a witch?|- She looks like one. Bring her forward. I'm not a witch!|I'm not a witch ! But you are dressed as one. - They dressed me like this.|- No, we didn't. And this isn't my nose.|It's a false one. - Well?|- We did do the nose. - The nose?|- And the hat. But she is a witch ! - Did you dress her up like this?|- No, no! Yes. A bit. She has got a wart. What makes you think|she's a witch? She turned me into a newt! A newt? I got better. Burn her anyway! QQuiet! QQuiet! There are ways of telling|whether she is a witch. - Are there? What are they? Tell us.|- Do they hurt? Tell me, what do you do with witches? Burn them! And what do you burn,|apart from witches? - More witches!|- Wood! So why do witches burn? - 'Cause they're made of wood?|- Good! - How do we tell if she is made of wood?|- Build a bridge out of her. But can you not also make bridges|out of stone? Oh, yeah. Does wood sink in water? - No, it floats.|- Throw her into the pond! What also floats in water? - Bread.|- Apples. - Very small rocks.|- Cider! Great gravy. - Cherries. Mud.|- Churches. - Lead.|- A duck! Exactly. So, logically-- If she weighs the same as a duck... she's made of wood. And therefore? A witch! - A duck! A duck!|- Here's a duck. We shall use my largest scales. Burn the witch ! Remove the supports! A witch! It's a fair cop. Who are you, who are so wise|in the ways of science? I am Arthur, king of the Britons. My Liege! Good Sir Knight, will you come with me|to Camelot... and join us at the Round Table? My Liege, I would be honored! - What is your name?|- Bedevere, my Liege. Then I dub you Sir Bedevere... Knight of the Round Table. The wise Sir Bedevere was fhe firsf|to join King Arthur's knighfs. But ofher illusfrious names|were soon fo follow. "Sir lancelot fhe Brave. Sir Galahad fhe Pure. And Sir Robin the|Not-Quife-So-Brave-As Sir lancelot... who had nearly fought|fhe Dragon of Angnor... who nearly sfood up to|fhe Chicken of Brisfol... and wet himself af|the Baffle of Badon Hill. And fhe apfly named,|Sir Not-Appearing-ln-This-Film. Together fhey formed a band|whose names and deeds... were refold fhroughouf fhe cenfuries. " The Knighfs of the Round Table. And that, my Liege, is how we know|the Earth to be banana-shaped. This new learning amazes me. Explain again how sheeps' bladders|may be employed to prevent earthquakes. - Certainly, sir.|- Look, my Liege! - Camelot!|- Camelot! It's only a model. Knights, I bid you welcome|to your new home. Let us ride to Camelot! We're Knighfs of the Round Table|We dance when e're we're able We do roufines and chorus scenes|wifh foofwork impeccable We dine well here in Camelot|We eat ham and jam and Spam a lot We're Knighfs of the Round Table|Our shows are formidable Buf many times we're given rhymes|fhaf are quite unsingable We're opera mad in Camelof|We sing from the diaphragm a lof In war we're tough and able Quife indefafigable Between our quesfs we sequin vests|and impersonafe Clark Gable It's a busy life in Camelof I have fo push the pram a lot On second thought,|let's not go to Camelot. - It is a silly place.|- Right. Arthur! Arthur! King of the Britons! Don't grovel. If there's one thing|I can't stand, it's people groveling. - Sorry.|- And don't apologize! Every time I talk to someone, it's|"Sorry this" and "Forgive me that"... and "l'm not worthy." - What are you doing now?|- Averting my eyes. Don't! It's like those miserable psalms.|They're so depressing. - Now knock it off!|- Yes, Lord! Arthur, king of the Britons... your Knights of the Round Table|shall have a task... to make them an example|in these dark times. Good idea. Of course it's a good idea! Behold, Arthur,|this is the Holy Grail. Look well, Arthur... for it is your sacred task|to seek this Grail. That is your purpose, Arthur. The quest for the Holy Grail. A blessing from the Lord! God be praised! Halt! Hello! Hello! Hello? Who is it? It is King Arthur, and these are|my Knights of the Round Table. Whose castle is this? This is the castle of my master,|Guy di Loimbard. Go and tell your master... that we have been charged by God|with a sacred quest. If he will give us food and shelter|for the night... he can join us in our quest|for the Holy Grail. I'll ask him, but I don't think|he'll be very keen. He's already got one, you see. - What?|- He says they've already got one. Are you sure he's got one? Yes. It's very nice. I told him we already got one. Well, can we come up|and have a look? Of course not!|You are English types. What are you? I'm French ! Why do you think I have|this outrageous accent, you silly king? - What are you doing in England?|- Mind your own business! If you will not show us the Grail,|we shall take your castle by force. You don't frighten us,|English pig-dogs! Go and boil your bottoms,|sons of a silly person! I blow my nose at you,|so-called Arthur King! You and all your silly English... "kniggits." - What a strange person.|- Look here, my good man-- I don't want to talk to you no more... you empty-headed animal|food-trough wiper! I fart in your general direction. Your mother was a hamster... and your father smelt of elderberries! Is there someone else we could talk to? No. Now go away,|or I shall taunt you a second time. This is your last chance.|I've been more than reasonable. If you do not agree to my commands,|then I shall-- Jesus Christ! Right! Charge! This one is for your mother! Run away! Filthy fiends.|I'll tear them apart. Sir, I have a plan. - What?|- A present. Hurry. Let's go. What happens now? Now Lancelot, Galahad and l... wait until nightfall,|and then leap out of the rabbit... taking the French by surprise. Not only by surprise,|but totally unarmed. Who leaps out? Lancelot, Galahad and l... Ieap out of the rabbit and-- Look, if we built|this large, wooden badger-- Run away! - Feature for schools. Take eight.|- Action. Defeat at the castle seems to|have utterly disheartened King Arthur. The ferocity of the French taunting|took him completely by surprise. And Arthur became convinced|that a new strategy was required... if the quest for the Holy Grail were to|be brought to a successful conclusion. Arthur, having consulted|his closest knights... decided that they should separate|and search for the Grail individually. Now this is what they did. Frank! "The Tale of Sir Robin. " So each of the knighfs|went fheir separate ways. Sir Robin rode north|fhrough the dark foresf of Ewing... accompanied by his favorife minsfrels. Bravely, bold Sir Robin|rode forfh from Camelot He was not afraid fo die|O brave Sir Robin He was nof at all afraid|fo be killed in nasfy ways Brave, brave, brave Sir Robin He was not in fhe leasf bit scared|fo be mashed into a pulp Or fo have his eyes gouged out|and his elbows broken To have his kneecaps splif|and his body burned away And his limbs all hacked and mangled|Brave Sir Robin His head smashed in, his hearf cut ouf|His liver removed, his bowels unplugged His nostrils raped, his botfom burnf off|And his penis-- That's enough music for now, lads. Looks like there's dirty work afoot. Anarcho-syndicalist|is a way of preserving freedom. Oh, Dennis, forget about freedom!|And don't drop that mud. Halt! Who art thou? He is brave Sir Robin|Brave Sir Robin who-- Shut up!|Nobody really. - I'm just passing through.|- What do you want? To fighf and-- Shut up! Nothing really. Just to pass through,|good Sir Knight. I'm afraid not. Actually I am|a Knight of the Round Table. - You're a Knight of the Round Table?|- I am. - In that case I shall have to kill you.|- Shall l? - I don't think so.|- What do I think? - Kill him.|- Let's be nice to him. Shut up! And you ! Get the sword out.|I want to cut his head off! - Cut your own head off.|- Do us all a favor. - Yapping on all the time.|- You're lucky you're not next to him. - What do you mean?|- You snore. I don't. Anyway,|you've got bad breath. - Because you don't brush my teeth.|- Stop bitching. Let's have tea. All right. We'll kill him first,|then have tea and biscuits. - Not biscuits.|- All right, not biscuits. - Let's kill him anyway.|- Right. - He's buggered off.|- So he has. He's scarpered! Brave Sir Robin ran away Bravely ran away, away I didn't! When danger reared its ugly head|he bravely furned his tail and fled - Brave Sir Robin turned about|- I didn't! And gallanfly he chickened ouf|Bravely faking fo his feet - I never did!|- He beaf a very brave retreaf - All lies!|- Bravesf of fhe brave, Sir Robin I never! "The Tale of Sir Galahad. " Open the door! In the name of King Arthur,|open the door! Hello. Welcome, gentle Sir Knight. Welcome to the Castle Anthrax. Castle Anthrax? Yes. It's not a very good name,|is it? But we are nice, and we will attend|to your every need. You are the keepers|of the Holy Grail? - The what?|- The Grail. It is here? But you are tired,|and you must rest a while. - Midget. Crapper.|- Yes, O zoot? Prepare a bed for our guest. Thank you. Thank you. Away, away, varletesses. The beds here are warm and soft|and very, very big. What is your name, handsome knight? Sir Galahad the Chaste. Mine is zoot. Just Zoot. - But come.|- No, please! In God's name, show me the Grail. You have suffered much.|You are delirious. I have seen it. It is here. You would not be so ungallant|as to refuse our hospitality. I'm afraid our life must seem... very dull and quiet|compared to yours. We are but eightscore|young blondes and brunettes... all between 16 and 19-and-a-half... cut off in this castle|with no one to protect us. Oh, it is a lonely life. Bathing, dressing, undressing... making exciting underwear. We are not used to handsome knights. Nay, come, come.|You may lie here. - Oh, but you are wounded!|- No, it's nothing. You must see the doctors immediately. No, please, lie down. What seems to be the trouble? They're doctors? They have basic medical training, yes. Come, come.|You must try to rest. Dr. Piglet, Dr. Winston,|practice your art. - Try to relax.|- Are you sure that's necessary? We must examine you. - There's nothing wrong with that.|- Please. We are doctors. No! This cannot be. - I am sworn to chastity.|- Back to your bed at once. Torment me no longer.|I have seen the Grail. - There's no grail here.|- I have seen it! - I have seen--|- Hello. No. I am zoot's|identical twin sister Dingo. - Excuse me.|- Where are you going? I seek the Grail.|I have seen it here in this castle! No! Oh, no! - Bad, bad zoot!|- What is it? Wicked, bad, naughty zoot! She has been lighting our beacon, which|I've just remembered is grail-shaped. - This is not the first time.|- It's not the real Grail? Wicked, bad, naughty, evil zoot! She is a naughty person,|and she must pay the penalty. Here in Anthrax we have one punishment|for lighting the grail-shaped beacon. You must tie her down on a bed|and spank her. A spanking! Spank her well, and after you have|spanked her, deal with her as you like. - Then spank me.|- And me. Yes. Give us all a good spanking. And after the spanking,|the oral sex. I could stay a bit longer. - Sir Galahad!|- Hello. Quick! QQuick!|You're in great peril! - No, he isn't!|- Silence, foul temptress! - She's got the point.|- We will cover your escape. I'm fine! - I can tackle this lot single-handed.|- Let him tackle us singled-handed. - No, Sir Galahad. Come.|- I can handle this lot easily. Let him handle us easily. Wait. I can defeat them.|There's only 150 of them. Yes! He'll beat us easily!|We haven't a chance. Oh, shit! - You were in great peril.|- I don't think I was. - You were in terrible peril.|- Let me go back in and face the peril. - It's too perilous.|- My duty is to sample peril. - We've got to find the Holy Grail.|- Let me have a bit of peril. - No. It's unhealthy.|- I bet you're gay. I am not. "Sir Lancelof had saved Sir Galahad|from almosf cerfain fempfafion. " But they were no nearer fhe Grail. Meanwhile,|King Arfhur and Sir Bedevere... nof more than a swallow's flight away|had discovered somefhing. Thaf's an unladen swallow's flighf,|obviously. They were more fhan two laden|swallows' flighfs away. Four if they had a coconuf on a line|between them. If fhe birds walked-- Get on with it! Anyway, on fo scene 24,|a smashing scene wifh lovely acfing... in which Arfhur discovers|a vital clue... in which fhere are no swallows,|alfhough I fhink-- And this enchanter of whom you speak,|he has seen the Grail? Where does he live?|Old man, where does he live? He knows of a cave. A cave which no man has entered. And the Grail is there? There is much danger,|for beyond the cave... Iies the Gorge of Eternal Peril... which no man has ever crossed. But the Grail !|Where is the Grail? Seek you the Bridge of Death! The Bridge of Death|which leads to the Grail? Who are you? - We are the Knights Who Say "Ni."|- No, not the Knights Who Say "Ni." - The same.|- Who are thee? We are the keepers of the sacred words: "Ni," "Peng," and "Nee-wom"! Those who hear them seldom live. The Knights Who Say "Ni"|demand a sacrifice. We are simple travelers who seek the|enchanter who lives beyond these woods. We shall say "Ni" again to you... if you do not appease us. - What do you want?|- We want... a shrubbery! A what? Please, no more!|We will find you a shrubbery. You must return here with a shrubbery... or else you will never pass|through this wood alive. You are just and fair,|and we will return with the shrubbery. - One that looks nice.|- Of course. - And not too expensive.|- Yes. Now go! Stop that. Stop that. Go on, clear off. Go away. Do it. Go away. And you, clear off! Bloody weather. "The Tale of Sir lancelof. " One day, lad,|all this will be yours. - The curtains?|- Not the curtains, lad. All you can see stretched|over the hills and valleys of this land. - This will be your kingdom.|- But, Mother-- I'm Father. But, Father, I don't want any of that. Listen, I built this kingdom|up from nothing. When I started,|all there was was swamp. All the kings said I was daft|to build a castle in a swamp... but I built it all the same,|just to show 'em. It sank into the swamp.|So I built a second one. That sank into the swamp.|So I built a third one. That burned down, fell over,|then sank into the swamp! But the fourth one stayed up! And that's what you're gonna get. The strongest castle in these isles. - I don't want any of that. I'd rather--|- Rather what? I'd rather just sing! Stop that! You're not going|into a song while I'm here. Listen. In 20 minutes|you're getting married to a girl... whose father owns the biggest tracts|of open land in Britain. But I don't want land. - Listen, Alice--|- Herbert. We live in a bloody swamp.|We need all the land we can get! But I don't like her. Don't like her?|What's wrong with her? She's beautiful. She's rich. She's got huge... tracts of land. I know... but I want the girl|that I marry to have... a certain special something. Cut that out! Look, you're marrying|Princess Lucky... so you better get used to the idea. Guards! Make sure the prince doesn't leave|this room until I come and get him. Not to leave the room,|even if you come and get him. No, no. Until I come and get him. Until you come and get him,|we're not to enter the room. No, no. You stay in the room|and make sure he doesn't leave. - And you'll come and get him.|- Right. We don't need to do anything apart|from just stop him entering the room. - No, no. Leaving the room.|- Leaving the room. Yes. All right? - Yes? What is it?|- If-- Oh. It's quite simple. You just stay here and make sure|he doesn't leave the room. All right? Oh, I remember.|Can he leave the room with us? No, no. You just keep him in here,|and make sure-- Oh, yes! We'll keep him|in here, obviously. But if he had to leave|and we were with him-- - Just keep him in here--|- Until you or anyone else-- - No, not anyone else, just me.|- Just you. - Get back.|- Get back. - Right?|- We'll stay here until you get back. And make sure he doesn't leave. What? Make sure he doesn't leave. - The prince?|- Yes, make sure he doesn't leave-- Oh, yes, of course.|I thought you meant him. It seemed a bit daft, me having|to guard him when he's a guard. - Is that clear?|- Oh, quite clear. No problems. Right. - Where are you going?|- We're coming with you. No, no. I want you to stay here|and make sure he doesn't leave. Oh, I see. Right. Shut your noise, you!|And get that suit on ! And no singing! Go get a glass of water. - Well taken, Concord.|- Thank you, sir. Most kind. And again. Over we go! Good. Steady. And now, the big one! Come on, Concord. Message for you, sir. Concord, speak to me! "To whoever finds this note: I have been imprisoned by my father... who wishes me to marry|against my will. Please, please,|please come and rescue me. I am in the tall tower|of Swamp Castle." At last! A call!|A cry of distress! This could be the sign that leads us|to the Holy Grail. Brave, brave Concord,|you shall not have died in vain. I'm not quite dead, sir. Well, you shall not have been|mortally wounded in vain. I think I could pull through, sir. Oh, I see. -I think I'm all right to come with you.|-No, no, stay here. I will send help when I have made|the daring and heroic rescue... in my own particular-- - Idiom, sir?|- Idiom! - No, I feel fine, actually, sir.|- Farewell, sweet Concord. I'll just stay here, then,|shall l, sir? Yeah. - Morning.|- Morning. You're not allowed|to enter this room-- O fair one, behold your humble servant,|Sir Lancelot of Camelot. I have come to take--|Oh, I'm terribly sorry. - You got my note!|- Well, I got a note. - You've come to rescue me.|- You see-- I knew someone would. I knew that somewhere out there,|there must be someone who-- Stop that! Stop it! - Who are you?|- I'm your son! - Not you.|- I am Sir Lancelot, sir. - He's come to rescue me, Father.|- Let's not jump to conclusions. Did you kill all those guards? Oh, yes. Sorry. - They cost 50 pounds each!|- I'm sorry. I can explain. Don't be afraid of him.|I've got a rope all ready. You killed eight wedding guests in all ! -You see, I thought your son was a lady.|-I can understand that. Hurry, Sir Lancelot. - You only killed the bride's father.|- I didn't mean to. - You put your sword through his head!|- Oh, dear. Is he all right? You even kicked the bride.|This is gonna cost me a fortune. I can explain. I was riding north|from Camelot when I got this note-- Camelot?|Are you from Camelot? Hurry. - I am a knight of King Arthur.|- Very nice castle, Camelot. - Very good pig country.|- Is it? Hurry. I am ready. - Would you like to come have a drink?|- That's awfully nice of you. I am ready! I mean, to be so understanding. I'm afraid when I'm in this idiom,|I get carried away. Don't worry about that. This is the main hall. We're having this|made into one big living room. - There he is!|- Oh, bloody hell. Hold it! - Please.|- Sorry, sorry. See what I mean? I get carried away.|I really must apologize. Sorry. He's killed the best man ! Hold it. Hold it, please. This is Sir Lancelot|from the court of Camelot. A very brave and influential knight... and my special guest here today. - Hello.|- He killed my auntie! Please, please! This is supposed to be|a happy occasion. Let's not bicker and argue|about who killed who. We are here today to witness|the union of two young people... in the joyful bond|of holy wedlock. Unfortunately, one of them,|my son Herbert... has just fallen to his death. But I don't want to think|I've lost a son... so much as gained a daughter. - Since the tragic death of her father--|- He's not quite dead. Since the near fatal wounding|of her father-- He's getting better. For, since her own father... who, when he seemed about to recover... suddenly felt the icy hand|of death upon him-- Oh, he's died. I want his only daughter|to look upon me as her own dad... in a very real|and legally binding sense. And I feel sure that the merger--|the union... between the princess... and the brave but dangerous|Sir Lancelot of Camelot-- Look! The dead prince! - He's not quite dead|- No, I feel much better. You fell out of the tall tower,|you creep! - No, I was saved at the last minute.|- How? Well, I'll tell you. Not like that! No! Stop it! He's going fo fell|He's going to fell QQuickly, this way. No, it's not right for my idiom.|I must escape more-- Dramatically? Dramatically. Heave! Whaf a wonderful escape Excuse me. Could somebody|give me a push, please? Old crone. Is there anywhere in this town|where we could buy a shrubbery? - Who sent you?|- The Knights Who Say "Ni." Ah, no. Never.|We've no shrubberies here. If you do not tell us where|we can buy a shrubbery... my friend and I will say-- We will say "Ni." Do your worst. Very well. If you will|not assist us voluntarily-- Never! No shrubbery! - Nu!|- No, no. It's not that. It's "Ni." - Nu.|- No. Ni. You're not doing it properly. - Ni.|- That's it. You got it. Are you saying "Ni"|to that old woman? Um, yes. Oh, what sad times are these|when passing ruffians... can say "Ni" at will|to old ladies. There is a pestilence upon this land.|Nothing is sacred. Even those who arrange|and design shrubberies... are under considerable economic stress|at this period in history. - Did you say shrubberies?|- Yes. Shrubberies are my trade.|I am a shrubber. My name is Roger the Shrubber. I arrange, design|and sell shrubberies. O Knights of Ni, we have brought you|your shrubbery. May we go now? It is a good shrubbery.|I like the laurel particularly. But there is one small problem. What? We are now no longer|the Knights Who Say "Ni." We are now the Knights Who Say|"Ecky, Ecky, Ecky, Pakang, zoom-ping." We must give you a test. What is this test, O Knights of--|Knights Who Till Recently Said "Ni"? Firstly, you must find|another shrubbery. Not another shrubbery! When you have found the shrubbery,|place it beside this shrubbery... only higher to get the two-level effect|with a path down the middle. A path! Then when you have found|the shrubbery... you must cut down the mightiest tree|in the forest... with a herring! - We shall do no such thing.|- Please. Cut down a tree with a herring?|It can't be done. - Oh! Don't say that word.|- What word? I cannot tell. It is one of the words|the Knights of Ni cannot hear. How can we not say the word|if you don't tell us what it is? - You said it again!|- What? "ls"? Not "is." Wouldn't get far in life|not saying "is." My Liege, it's Sir Robin! And packing it up|and sneaking away and buggering off And chickening ouf|and pissing off home Yes, bravely he is|fhrowing in fhe sponge - It's good to see you.|- Now he said the word. Surely you've not given up your quest|for the Holy Grail. He is sneaking away|and buggering off - No, no. Far from it.|- He said the word again. I was looking for it... here in this forest. It is far from this place. - Stop saying the word!|- Oh, stop it! - You said it again.|- That's it. I said it! I said it!|Oh, I said it again! That's three "its." And so Arthur and Bedevere|and Sir Robin... sef out on their search|fo find the Enchanter... of whom fhe old man had spoken|in scene 24. Beyond the foresf,|they met lancelot and Galahad... and fhere was much rejoicing. In fhe frozen land of Nador... fhey were forced fo eaf|Robin's minsfrels... and fhere was much rejoicing. A year passed. - Winfer changed info spring.|- Nice. Spring changed into summer. Summer changed back into winfer. And winter gave spring and summer|a miss and wenf straight into aufumn. Unfil one day-- Knights... forward. What manner of man are you that can|summon up fire without flint or tinder? I am an enchanter. By what name are you known? There some who call me... Tim. Greetings, Tim the Enchanter. Greetings, King Arthur. - You know my name?|- I do! You seek the Holy Grail. That is our quest. You know much|that is hidden, O Tim. Quite. Yes, we're looking|for the Holy Grail. Our quest is to find|the Holy Grail. Yes, it is. Yeah. And so we're looking for it. - Yes. We have been for some time.|- Ages. So anything that|you could do to help... would be... very helpful. Can you tell us-- Fine. I don't want to waste|any more of your time. But I don't suppose you could tell us|where we might find a-- A what? - A grail?|- Yes, I think so. - Yes.|- Yes. Yes! - Oh, thank you.|- Splendid. Look, you're a busy man and-- Yes, I can help you find|the Holy Grail. To the north there lies a cave... the cave of Caerbannog... wherein carved in mystic runes|upon the very living rock... the last words|of Olfin Bedwere of Rheged... make plain the last resting place|of the most Holy Grail. Where could we find this cave,|O Tim? Follow! But follow only|if ye be men of valor! For the entrance to this cave|is guarded by a creature... so foul, so cruel... that no man yet|has fought with it and lived! Bones of full 50 men... Iie strewn about its lair! So, brave knights... if you do doubt your courage|or your strength... come no further,|for death awaits you all... with nasty, big, pointy teeth. What an eccentric performance. - They're nervous, sire.|- We best leave them and go on foot. Dismount! Behold the cave of Caerbannog. Right. Keep me covered. - What with?|- Just keep me covered. Too late! What? There he is! - Where?|- There! Behind the rabbit? It is the rabbit. You silly sod! - What?|- You got us all worked up! That's no ordinary rabbit. That's the most foul, cruel|and bad-tempered rodent you ever saw. You tit! I soiled my armor|I was so scared. That rabbit's got a vicious streak.|It's a killer. - Get stuffed!|- He'll do you up a treat, mate. You mangy Scots git! - I'm warning you.|- What's he do, nibble your bum? He's got huge, sharp-- He can leap about-- - Look at the bones!|- Go on, Bors. Chop his head off. Right. Silly little bleeder.|One rabbit stew coming right up. Look! Jesus Christ! - I warned you.|- I've done it again. I warned you, but did you listen to me?|Oh, no. You knew it all, didn't you? Oh, it's just a harmless|little bunny, isn't it? Well, it's always the same.|I always tell them-- Shut up! Right. Charge! Run away! Run away! How many did we lose? - Gawain.|- Ector. - And Bors. That's five.|- Three, sir. Three. We better not risk another|frontal assault. That rabbit's dynamite. Would it help to confuse it|if we run away more? Oh, shut up.|Go and change your armor. Let us taunt it. It may become so cross|that it will make a mistake. Like what? Well-- Have we got bows? - We have the Holy Hand Grenade.|- Yes. The Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch. 'Tis one of the sacred relics Brother|Maynard carries. Brother Maynard. Bring up the Holy Hand Grenade. - How does it-- How does it work?|- I don't know, my Liege. Consult the "Book of Armaments." Armaments, chapter two,|verses 9 to 21. "And St. Attila raised|the hand grenade up on high saying... 'O Lord, bless this thy hand grenade... that with it thou mayest blow|thine enemies to tiny bits... in Thy mercy.' And the Lord did grin... and the people did feast upon|the lambs and sloths and carp... and anchovies and orangutans|and breakfast cereals and fruit bats--" Skip a bit, Brother. "And the Lord spake saying... 'First shalt thou take out|the holy pin... then shalt thou count to three... no more, no less. Three shall be the number|thou shalt count... and the number of the counting|shall be three. Four shalt thou not count,|neither count thou two... excepting that thou|then proceed to three. Five is right out. Once the number three,|being the third number, be reached... then lobbest thou|thy Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch... towards thy foe... who, being naughty in My sight,|shall snuff it."' - Amen.|- Amen. Right. One, two, five. - Three, sir!|- Three! There! Look! - What does it say?|- What language is that? - Brother Maynard, you're our scholar.|- It's Aramaic. Of course.|Joseph of Arimathea. - Of course.|- What does it say? It reads, "Here may be found... the last words|of Joseph of Arimathea. He who is valiant|and pure of spirit... may find the Holy Grail... in the castle of A-a-a-argh." What? "The castle of A-a-a-argh." What is that? He must have died while carving it. - Oh, come on !|- Well, that's what it says. If he was dying he wouldn't bother|to carve "A-a-a-argh." He'd just say it. That's what's carved in the rock. - Perhaps he was dictating.|- Shut up. Does it say anything else? No. Just... "A-a-a-argh." Do you suppose he meant|the Camargue? - Where's that?|- In France, I think. Isn't there a St. A-a-a-argh's|in Cornwall? - That's St. Ives.|- Oh, yes. No, no. A-a-a-argh.|Back of the throat. No, no. "O-o-oh" in surprise and alarm. - You mean sort of a "aaah"!|- Yes, that's right. Oh, my God! It's the legendary|Black Beast of-- That's it! Run away! Keep running! We've lost him. As the horrendous Black Beasf|lunged forward... escape for Arthur and his knights|seemed hopeless... when suddenly the animafor|suffered a fafal heart aftack. The carfoon peril was no more. The quesf for fhe Holy Grail|could confinue. There it is!|The Bridge of Death. Oh, great. Look! There's the old man|from scene 24. -What's he doing here?|-He's the keeper of the Bridge of Death. He asks each traveler|five questions-- - Three questions.|- Three questions. - He who answers the five questions--|- Three questions. Three questions.|May cross in safety. What if you get a question wrong? Then you are cast|into the Gorge of Eternal Peril. I won't go. - Who's gonna answer the questions?|- Sir Robin. - Yes?|- Brave Sir Robin, you go. I've got a great idea.|Why doesn't Lancelot go? Yes, let me go.|I will take it single-handed. -I shall make a feint to the northeast--|-No. Hang on. - Just answer the five questions--|- Three questions. Three questions as best you can. And we shall watch and pray. I understand. Good luck, brave Sir Lancelot.|God be with you. Stop! Who would cross the Bridge of Death|must answer me these questions three... ere the other side he see. Ask me the questions, bridge keeper.|I am not afraid. What is your name? My name is Sir Lancelot of Camelot. - What is your quest?|- To seek the Holy Grail. - What is your favorite color?|- Blue. Right. Off you go. Oh, thank you very much. That's easy! Stop! Who approacheth the Bridge of Death|must answer me these questions three... ere the other side he see. Ask me the questions.|I am not afraid. - What is your name?|- Sir Robin of Camelot. - What is your quest?|- To seek the Holy Grail. What is the capital of Assyria? I don't know that! Stop! - What is your name?|- Sir Galahad of Camelot. - What is your quest?|- I seek the Grail. What is your favorite color? Blue. No, yel-- Stop! What is your name? It is Arthur, king of the Britons. - What is your quest?|- To seek the Holy Grail. What is the airspeed velocity|of an unladen swallow? What do you mean,|an African or a European swallow? I don't know that. How do you know|so much about swallows? You have to know these things|when you're a king. Lancelot? Arthur The Castle A-a-a-argh. Our quest is at an end. God be praised! Almighty God, we thank Thee... that Thou has brought safe to us|the most Holy-- Jesus Christ! Hello, daffy English "kniggits"... and Monsieur Arthur King|who has the brain of a duck. So we French fellows|outwit you a second time. How dare you profane this place|with your presence! I command you, in the name|of the Knights of Camelot... to open the doors|of this sacred castle... to which God Himself has guided us! How you English say,|I one more time... unclog my nose in your direction,|sons of a window dresser. So you think you could|out-clever us French folk... with your silly knees-bent,|running-about advancing behavior! I wave my private parts|at your aunties... you cheesy lot of secondhand|electric-donkey bottom biters! In the name of the Lord... we demand entrance|to this sacred castle! No chance, English bed-wetting types. I burst my pimples at you and call|your door-opening request a silly thing. You tiny-brained wipers|of other people's bottoms! If you do not open this door,|we shall take this castle by force. In the name of God|and the glory of our-- Right! That settles it! Yes! Depart at this time|and cut the approaching... or we fire arrows into your heads and|make castanets out of your testicles. Walk away. Just ignore them. Now remain gone,|illegitimate-faced bugger folk! If you think you got|a nasty taunting this time... you ain't heard nothing yet... daffy English "kniggits"! - We shall attack at once!|- Yes, my Liege. Stand by for attack! French persons! Today the blood of many a valiant knight|shall be avenged! In the name of God,|we shall not stop our fight... till each one of you lies dead... and the Holy Grail... returns to those|whom God has chosen! Charge! Yes, they're the ones.|I'm sure. Don't let any of them go through. That's them. Yes. Move along. Come on. This one. Come on.|Put him in the van. Get a blanket on that one. Come on, back.|Right back. Come on. Put that over there.|That's an offensive weapon, that is. Back. Come on. All right, sonny, that's enough.|Just pack that in. Chrisf! |
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