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. You're a looney. Well, now, uh, Lancelot, Galahad, and I, uh, wait until nightfall, and then leap out of the rabbit, taking the French, uh, by surprise. Who are the Britons? I dunno. Must be a king. What are you going to do, bleed on me? Yes. And the hat, but she is a witch!
I think kill him. I move for no man. Will you ask your master if he wants to join my court at Camelot?! That's what it's all about. If only people would hear of-- Oh, yeah, an African swallow maybe, but not a European swallow. That's my point.
What? I am your king! Burn her! So be it! Um, l-- look, i-- i-- if we built this large wooden badger... Right. Remove the supports!
That is your purpose, Arthur: the quest for the Holy Grail. ...but by a two-thirds majority in the case of more major--
Oh, don't be such a baby. Chicken! Eh. You are indeed brave, Sir Knight, but the fight is mine. 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! Shut up, will you? Shut up! We found them.