And the hat, but she is a witch! Yes, do us all a favor!
Bring out your dead! Nine pence. Good idea, O Lord! Right. I'll do you for that! Very good. We shall use my largest scales. Arthur, this is the Holy Grail. Yes, do us all a favor! If he will give us food and shelter for the night, he can join us in our quest for the Holy Grail. He buggered off.
Yes, do us all a favor! God be praised! ...but all the decisions of that officer have to be ratified at a special bi-weekly meeting... Halt! Who goes there? Oh, cut your own head off! 'cause they're made of... wood?
Man. Sorry. What knight lives in that castle over there? So he has. He's scarpered. Oh! Come and see the violence inherent in the system! What? A swallow carrying a coconut?
I told you. We're an anarcho-syndicalist commune. We take it in turns to act as a sort of executive officer for the week,... I fart in your general direction! You'll what? Tell me. What do you do with witches? Ah, thanks very much. And you. Oh, quick! Get the sword out. I want to cut his head off! Well, you didn't bother to find out, did you?
Ah, but can you not also make bridges out of stone? 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 I, Arthur, was to carry Excalibur. Uh, gra-- gravy! I'm invincible! What? What?
If he will give us food and shelter for the night, he can join us in our quest for the Holy Grail.
Is there someone else up there we could talk to? Man!
Burn her anyway! Well, I didn't know you were called 'Dennis'. Run away! Run away! Run away! Run away! Run away! Run away! Run away! Go and tell your master that we have been charged by God with a sacred quest.
Just a flesh wound. Uh, churches! Churches! ...but by a two-thirds majority in the case of more major-- That is your purpose, Arthur: the quest for the Holy Grail. He was not in the least bit scared to be mashed into a pulp. Not at all. They could be carried.
Burn her! I mean, if I went 'round saying I was an emperor just because some moistened bint had lobbed a scimitar at me, they'd put me away! There are ways of telling whether she is a witch. We haven't got enough mud. Well, how did you become King, then? Well, but you can't expect to wield supreme executive power just 'cause some watery tart threw a sword at you!
Oh, let's be nice to him. You're fooling yourself. We're living in a dictatorship: a self-perpetuating autocracy in which the working classes-- A witch! A witch! You don't vote for kings. Oh, what a give-away. Did you hear that? Did you hear that, eh? That's what I'm on about. Did you see him repressing me? You saw it, didn't you? Well, I didn't vote for you. I seek the finest and the bravest knights in the land to join me in my court at Camelot. Look, my liege!
What makes you think she is a witch? Please! Please, good people. I am in haste. Who lives in that castle? What are you doing in England?
Look! Oh, yeah. True. Uhh... We don't have a lord. Well, how did you become King, then? Run away! Well, on second thought, let's not go to Camelot. It is a silly place. Halt! Who goes there? ...but all the decisions of that officer have to be ratified at a special bi-weekly meeting... Then you shall die. 'Ere. He says he's not dead!
My liege! 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? That's-- that's, uh-- that's enough music for now, lads. Oh, yeah. Oh. Am I right? Will you ask your master if he wants to join my court at Camelot?! 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 I, Arthur, was to carry Excalibur. Camelot! Bring out your dead! Nine pence.
I am, and 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. I did say 'sorry' about the 'old woman', but from the behind you looked- I'm getting better! The nose? Uh, gra-- gravy! Look, my liege! ...but all the decisions of that officer have to be ratified at a special bi-weekly meeting... I'm not interested!
Eh. You are indeed brave, Sir Knight, but the fight is mine. Oh, shut up.
He hasn't got shit all over him. His head smashed in and his heart cut out. 'Ere. He says he's not dead! No. Yes, I have. And his liver removed and his bowels unplugged. Oh, I don't think so. If... she... weighs... the same as a duck,... she's made of wood. I've had worse.
Right! Arthur, King of the Britons, your Knights of the Round Table shall have a task to make them an example in these dark times. Oh, don't grovel! What? And this isn't my nose. It's a false one. Halt! Who goes there? Well, I'll ask him, but I don't think he'll be very keen. Then I dub you 'Sir Bedemere, Knight of the Round Table'. Uh, he's already got one, you see.
It is I, Arthur, son of Uther Pendragon, from the castle of Camelot. King of the Britons, defeater of the Saxons, Sovereign of all England! Yes, do us all a favor! They dressed me up like this. Oh. Oh, I see. Running away, eh? You yellow bastards! Come back here and take what's coming to you. I'll bite your legs off! Victory is mine!
Oh, what a give-away. Did you hear that? Did you hear that, eh? That's what I'm on about. Did you see him repressing me? You saw it, didn't you? Good! Heh heh More witches! Bravest of the brave, Sir Robin. ...but all the decisions of that officer have to be ratified at a special bi-weekly meeting... Who leaps out? He was not in the least bit scared to be mashed into a pulp. I think I'll go for a walk. I'm not dead!
What? Brave Sir Robin ran away. Go and boil your bottom, sons of a silly person. What I object to is that you automatically treat me like an inferior! Well, he will be soon. He's very ill.
Now stand aside, worthy adversary. Of course not! You are English types-a!