Carry on Don't Lose Your Head (1966) Movie Script

# Don't lose your head
# Don't lose your head
when you can't pay your taxes
# Don't lose your head
when they're grinding their axes
# Try to be calm when your head's on the block
# You may be in for a nasty shock
# Don't lose your head, get a hold of your wig
# Smile when the grave-digger starts out to dig
# Don't lose your head, you'll get by in the end
# Don't lose your head, my friend
# Don't lose your head
when they're screaming for blood
# Don't lose your head,
or your name will be mud
# You're asking for trouble if you've no head
# Because, when you wake up, you'll be dead
# Don't lose your head
when the world's at its worst
# Don't lose your head
when the bubble has burst
# Don't lose your head, you'll get by in the end
# Don't lose your head, my friend
# The Marseillaise
# Don't lose your head, my friend
Paris, 1789. The Great Revolution has begun.
The hands of the masses are smeared
with the blood of the poor bleeding aristocracy.
The tumbrels run a regular half -hour service
between the Bastille
and the many guillotines around the city.
The growing mounds of noble heads
are only matched by the growing mounds
of unused return tickets.
No-one is spared.
Madame La Guillotine claims them all.
Dukes and duchesses,
lords and ladies, men and women...
of both sexes.
A dozen times an hour,
the drums roll, the blade falls,
and the heads roll.
Yes, every five minutes, a freshly sliced loaf.
And there, as always, grimly watching
the results of his evil machinations,
keeping a watchful eye out for queue-jumpers,
stands the most dreaded man in all France,
Robespierre's Chief of Secret Police,
Citizen Camembert.
Eurgh!
And beside him, as always,
keeping count of the grim harvest,
his number-one assistant,
the toadying Citizen Bidet.
(Laughter)
I said heads, not tails.
The wretched aristo's the wrong way round.
(Laughter)
- That Malabonce doesn't know his head...
- Never mind all that. He'll have to aller.
- Eh?
- He'll have to go.
(Drum roll)
(Thud)
(Cheering)
(Drum roll)
(Cheering)
(Wild cheering)
- What a carve-up.
- Disgusting.
- What, sir?
- That last one had terrible scurf.
Sterilise the blade!
- You can't be too careful.
- Oh, I agree, Citizen.
- Sir!
- Sorry. Citizen, sir.
That's better. What's the tally for today?
Er... 26 head of aristo.
Ooh, that's very good.
Carry on choppin'!
# Rule Britannia
Meanwhile, just across the Channel
far removed from the awful scene of carnage,
the cosy little homes of England
ring with merry, carefree laughter,
and satisfied after-dinner belches,
as the aristocracy, oblivious of the horrors
facing their counterparts in France,
continue with their normal and fashionable
country pursuits.
Hunting.
And, of course, shooting.
Not to mention the most pleasurable of them all.
Fishing.
No-one indulged in these pleasures
more diligently and energetically
than two of society's
most distinguished and fashionable layabouts -
the powdered, bewigged,
beribboned Sir Rodney Ffing,
with two Fs,
and his inseparable companion,
Lord Darcy Pue.
- Good day, gentlemen.
- (Lisps) Good day? I suppose so.
(Sighs) It's all a monstrous bore.
What say you, Darcy, my dear?
- Definitely the same old round.
- Same old people.
- Same old girls.
- Same old tea parties.
- Same old concerts.
- Same old balls.
(Both sigh)
Henri, we regret to inform you,
we're bored with our appearances.
- Exceeding bored.
- This wig you gave me is absolutely common.
Definitely below your usual standard, Henri.
Please forgive me, but I'm so upset by the news
I've received from my beloved France.
- Your beloved who?
- France, my country.
Oh, I thought he meant a person. A chap, a girl.
News? What news?
- Why, the Revolution.
- Revolution? What does he mean, Darcy?
Some new form of vice, I imagine.
You know what they're like.
Oh, yes. Another bore.
No. Haven't you heard, gentlemen?
All the French aristocracy are losing their heads.
But that isn't news!
- By the guillotine.
BOTH: Oh.
Executed.
Oh. For what reason?
For no reason,
except that they are lords and ladies.
Ladies too? I say, that isn't cricket.
Damnable waste, to boot.
It's madness, absolute madness.
And no-one is lifting a finger to help them.
No-one at all.
Please excuse me, Sir Rodney.
(Crying) I am so overcome.
Stab me sideways.
Did you hear that, Darcy, my dear?
They're chopping their heads off.
With no-one lifting a finger to help them.
- Disgraceful.
- Damned.
I say, Darcy, my dear.
Do you think that you and I might...
...lift a finger?
- Or two.
I say, that would be a good idea!
Wouldn't it just?
(Unaffected voice) Darcy... to Paris.
And so started the rescue operation
that was to utterly bewitch, bewilder and bedevil
Citizens Camembert and Bidet. An operation
in which Sir Rodney and Lord Darcy,
by means of a series
of audacious ruses and artful disguises,
snatched the victims from the very steps
of Madame La Guillotine.
(Shouting and jeering)
(Chuckles)
(Coughing)
(Coughing)
He always leaves one of these behind,
eh, Camembert?
Yes, Citizen Robespierre.
Well, what is it? What's it supposed to be?
From inquiries I've made, I gather it's a sign
used in England to convey contempt.
England?
Yes. Many of them have it
on their coats of arms. Two digits, rampant.
Then what you're trying to say is that this...
What did you call him?
The Black Fingernail, for want of a better name.
One nail is black.
Yes, yes, yes!
Is he one of the British aristocracy?
Oh, undoubtedly.
I spit on them.
So do I. (Spits)
Oh, I beg your pardon.
- He must be stopped, Camembert.
- Don't worry, Citizen. I'll get him next time.
Well, you'd better.
The Duc de Pommfrit
goes to the guillotine tomorrow,
as a prominent leader of the Royalists. (Spits)
I said "Royalists", Camembert.
Oh, yes, of course. (Spits)
That's better. Now, as I was saying,
if the Duc de Pommfrit should escape,
it would be disastrous.
Don't worry, Citizen. I'll have the guillotine
inspected and put extra soldiers on duty.
By this time tomorrow,
the Duc of Pommfrit will have had his chips.
Whoa! Here we are, then, Citizens.
This is it. Working models of the guillotine.
Only five francs each.
Complete with six aristos,
with fully detachable heads!
Ha-ha! Take one home to the kids tonight.
Play with it yourself
and watch it fall off in your hands.
Right. Here we are. Five francs.
- Good old Darcy.
- That's right. Lovely.
Come on, Bidet. Come on. Let's get started.
Certainly, Citizen, sir. Le Duc de Pommfrit.
Le Duc de Pommfrit!
Le Duc de Pommfrit!
Le Duc de Pommfrit!
That's him. Get ready.
Well, don't just stand there, man.
Go and get him.
Eh? Yes, all right.
Clear the way! Clear the way there! Get out of it.
Pommfrit.
(Laughs)
Pommfrit, we're waiting for you.
Oh, hello.
I shan't be long. I'm on the last chapter.
(Laughs) This is good, you know!
Put that book down.
Oh, I couldn't possibly do that.
This is the latest Marquis de Sade.
Oh.
- (Laughs)
- Come on.
Take your filthy hands off me, peasant.
Peasant, am I?
Let me tell you that my blood's as good as yours.
Nonsense. Everyone knows
your father was a basket-maker.
Ah-ha. That's where you're wrong, see?
Nobody knows who my father was.
Not even my mother.
(Laughter)
You'll laugh on the other side of your face
when your head comes off.
Thank you.
I'm quite capable of making my own way.
(Chuckles condescendingly)
Your Grace, there's an urgent letter for you.
Drop it in the basket. I'll read it later.
(Laughter)
Short back and sides. Not too much off the top.
One has to admire his courage.
These aristos are all the same.
Anything for a giggle.
Hold it. The Duc de Pommfrit?
- Oh, hello.
- I'm sorry to bother you at a time like this.
Quite all right. It happens to all of us.
- A pinch?
- Thank you, no.
I represent Lloyd's of London.
- Could I interest you in life insurance?
- No, not today.
It's a very good policy. It covers accidental death
by drowning, shooting,
stabbing, poisoning, hanging...
- Beheading?
- No. We can't take too many risks.
What's going on here? You, sir, how dare you
obstruct the course of justice in this way!
- All right. I'm only trying to make a living.
- A living?
- Are you fully covered?
- I hope so.
Come on. Get off. Come on. Allez. Go.
Terribly sorry to keep you waiting, Your Grace.
That's all very well, but it would
never have happened under a monarchy.
There's no need
to make a political issue out of it.
Carry on, Malabonce.
- (Crowd gasps)
- Now what's the matter?
I dunno. It worked all right this morning.
Excuse me,
but isn't the rope caught up at the top there?
No, it isn't, and mind your own business.
- I was only trying to help.
- We're quite capable of managing, thank you.
Well, I wish you'd hurry up. I'm getting
a shocking pain in the neck down here.
I assure you, my dear Duke,
that once we get this working,
you'll be the first to know about it.
Excuse me.
I think I can see what the trouble is here.
- What do you know about it?
- Plenty. Take that blade up.
I'm sorry to bother you, but could you step out?
Oh, really! Just as I was getting comfortable.
Aha.
I thought so. Who made this thing?
I did.
I approved the design, of course.
Well, you didn't do a very good job.
One of these runners has a kink.
Yes. You have got a kinky runner.
I ain't got a kinky runner.
See for yourself.
I don't see no kink.
- Oh, it's there, all right. It'll never work.
- Of course it will. Won't it, Malabonce?
Of course. Course.
- Do you want a bet?
- Yes. 100 francs.
- You're on.
- Right.
- We'll show him, won't we, Malabonce?
- Yeah, yeah. We'll show him.
Mon Dieu!
(Thud)
(Gasps of shock)
Dear, oh, dear. I owe you 100 francs.
What have I done?
Is there a doctor in the house?
(Shouting and screaming)
You have no right to get up... Guards!
Guards! Protect my person. Get 'em off.
I'm a faithful servant of the Republic!
You have no right.
- Thank you.
- My pleasure.
Get 'em off. Down! Down!
Help! Help! Guards! Guards!
Protect my person!
Guards! Guards!
You have no right!
I'm Camembert. I'm the big cheese.
Get off.
I'm a member of the Government.
You have no right.
(Laughs)
It's all the fault of that insurance salesman.
Where is he? Where's he gone?
I'll have his head for this.
He's gone. So has the Duc de Pommfrit.
What?! Aargh!
- What is it, Citizen, sir?
- The Black Fingernail.
It seems that the English have struck again.
Yes, Citizen Robespierre, but then, they say it's
the one thing the English are good at - striking!
- I'm not amused.
- Neither am I.
So, Citizen Head of Secret Police Camembert,
the so-called Black Fingernail
has fooled you again.
Oh, I wouldn't say that, Citizen.
- Oh, you wouldn't?
- No.
This is his calling card!
It was found on the guillotine this afternoon.
Yes, that's true, but he didn't fool me.
Oh, no, not for one minute.
He didn't? Perhaps I've got the story wrong.
He posed as an insurance salesman. Correct?
Yes.
- He abducted the Duc de Pommfrit?
- Yes.
- And tricked you into executing Malabonce?
- Yes.
And he didn't fool you for one minute?
I knew who he was.
I wanted to see how far he would go.
Mon bloomin' Dieu!
He couldn't have gone very much further,
could he?
I don't know. We've still got the guillotine.
Now, listen, Camembert.
I want this Fingernail caught.
Do you understand me?
Yes, Citizen, but the trouble is,
I don't know what he looks like. Nobody does.
Then find out,
or nobody will know what you look like.
Oh, everyone always recognises me.
Without a head?
Now, get out of here, and find him.
Yes, Citizen. I'll do my best, but it won't be easy.
The Fingernail is a master of disguise.
He could be anyone.
(Shrieks) Get out!
Get out!
Come, now, girl. Admit it.
You're a cursed aristo, aren't you?
Come, come. We secret police
have ways of making people talk.
- Shall we use the thumbscrews?
- Not till Citizen Camembert gets here.
If there's screwing to be done, he'll do it.
- He's screwed up the Revolution already.
- Ah, Bidet.
All roads and other exits out of the city
are guarded?
Oh, yes, definitely, sir. This woman here...
- Bridges are securely held?
- I haven't asked her, sir.
I said bridges, not britches.
Oh, yes. Yes, sir.
Good. This accursed Fingernail
must be caught this time.
If only we knew what he looked like.
Don't worry.
I've given orders to hold anyone disguised...
- as anyone.
- That'll be a lot of help, won't it?!
Who's this woman? What's she doing here?
I was about to tell you, Citizen, sir.
She was out after curfew.
Well, nothing wrong
with a bit of after-curfew, eh, my dear?
- (Simpers)
- But you shouldn't be out late, you know.
- (Simpers)
- You're a naughty girl, aren't you?
- (High-pitched) Yes.
- And I bet you've done it before, haven't you?
Oh, yes. (Chuckles)
Well, I don't think we need detain you
any longer. You can go home now.
Thank you. You're very kind.
- (Chuckles)
- Just a moment.
You'd better let me have your address.
I'll be along later to erm... check up.
Thank you.
Nice little... citizen thing, eh?
- You're not letting her go, sir?
- Of course I'm letting her go, Bidet.
I think you're making a great mistake.
You should get the chance
to make such a mistake, Citizen Bidet.
But she's probably an aristo.
Have you ever known a lady
who needed a shave?
- A shave, sir?
- Yes.
When she kissed me just now,
I distinctly felt her stubble.
Really?
And not only that.
She positively reeked of tobacco.
Well, perhaps you're right, Citizen, sir.
Of course I'm right, Citizen Bidet. Ah-ha-ha.
Make a note of these things,
and we'll make a policeman of you yet.
Well, I must be off now. Business, you know.
Let me know immediately of any developments.
- Yes, Citizen, sir. Where will you be?
- At this address... Aaargh!
What is it?
It was him. The Black Fingernail.
Really? Aaargh!
(Laughs)
No wonder she reeked of tobacco!
He... he... he kissed me!
(Gasps)
Don't worry, Citizen, sir.
It was a marvellous disguise.
It would have fooled me.
He did fool you, didn't he?
What?
You had him here,
and you let him go, didn't you?
- I did, Citizen, sir?
- Yes, you did, Citizen nit!
- Ooh!
- Oh, you great wheyface, you! You!
Oh! I've just remembered...
what I was about to try and do with him.
- He can't have got very far.
- No, and neither could I.
I mean out of the city.
If we're quick, perhaps we can catch her... him.
Yes, that's right. Yes, he'll make for Calais,
if he can get past the roadblocks.
Coachman!
- Coachman!
- Did you call, Citizen?
Yes. Prepare my coach.
We leave at once for Calais.
Right, Citizen.
BIDET: To Calais, as quick as you can!
Wait for me! You stupid great fool!
Pick your hat up. You're supposed to make way
for a superior citizen, you know.
Allez to Calais!
Halt! Who goes there?
Citizen Camembert.
Listen. Has anyone passed out within the hour?
Only the sergeant. He's sleeping it off now.
I'm looking for a woman.
Oh, nothing doing out here, chum.
You want to try Montmartre.
I don't mean that!
Oh, how I loathe these peasants.
Give me the aristocracy any time.
Has anyone passed through here this evening?
No, not as far as I know, Citizen.
Well, you keep a sharp lookout. Mind my hat.
Keep a lookout for an Englishman,
a woman and the Duc de Pommfrit,
probably all disguised.
- What as?
- Well, how should I know?
There'd be no point in the disguise
if I knew what it was.
Oh, open the barrier.
Coachman! Calais, with all speed.
With pleasure, Citizen.
- Aaargh!
- I'm sorry.
Fool.
Wait here, Coachman.
The rest of you, follow me.
Sorry, Citizens. You're too late.
I've already called temps.
Curb your insolent tongue, wench.
You're talking to Citizen Camembert,
head of the Secret Police
of the glorious Republic.
Oh, shut up. I wish
you wouldn't keep viving all over the place.
Now, listen to me, woman. Have you had
any men in here disguised as women?
I should say not!
What sort of place do you think this is?
We are looking for a man who's trying
to flee the country disguised as a woman.
Well, there's nobody here except me,
and I'm just going off.
- She's gone off, if you ask me.
- She's gone off...
Wait! She could be him. She's got the right build.
Leave it to me, Citizen, sir.
All right, woman.
- Give us a kiss.
- Oh! Aargh!
Stop messing about.
- Well?
- No beard.
Come along, then.
We'll try the harbour. Come along.
And let that be a lesson to you, woman.
Oi, blackhead!
Look! The horse has gone.
(Raspberry)
The Black Fingernail!
I don't believe it. The horse?
He couldn't have been.
Duc? Come on, Duc. Come on.
- Search everywhere.
- Here they come.
- They can't be far away.
- We'll never get to the boat now.
Don't worry about it.
Just give me your hat and coat.
Quick.
(Groggily) Hello!
A thousand francs
for the first man who takes the Fingernail alive.
A thousand francs? Ho-ho!
I don't know where he's getting it from.
I'll keep them busy. Meet you at the boat.
Yoo-hoo!
- It's me.
- 'Tis he.
- After he!
- After who?
- After him.
- After you.
Yoo-hoo!
Can't catch me.
CAMEMBERT:
Bolt the doors. He's in here somewhere.
(Bolts sliding)
(Gasps)
Zounds! 'Tis a woman. And what a cracker.
What means this intrusion, Monsieur?
How handsome he is!
And every inch a gentleman.
I mean you no harm.
Opportunity would be a fine thing.
Please... leave at once.
If he does,
I shall surely swoon with disappointment.
Alas, I cannot.
Just look how that pretty bosom heaves.
Pray, why not?
Oh, why does my pretty bosom heave so?
The Secret Police are after me.
What's this pounding in my ear holes?
Could I be in love?
The Secret Police? But why?
Oh, my fluttering heart. Can it be I love him?
They seek me because...
I am the Black Fingernail.
The Black Fingernail?
My hero in person!
I must love her,
or I wouldn't have told her that.
I, and all France, are in your debt, Monsieur.
I salute you.
Now, that's what I call a salute.
I would do anything for you.
Your wish is my command,
and your desire is my desire.
- Really?
- Mm-hm.
Methinks, if I play my cards right,
I might be onto a good thing.
(Knock on door)
Ouvrez, in the name of Citizen Camembert
and the glorious new French Republic!
Oh, shut up.
Open up! We wish to search the room.
One moment.
You must flee.
(Whistles)
(Whinnies)
Open up in there!
Go quickly, my dearest love.
I will return. Here.
Take this, as a token of my undying love.
- What a beautiful locket!
- My mother's. It contains her last set of teeth.
Thank you.
I will think of you every time I clean them.
Ouvrez! Ouvrez!
Oh, go, man, go.
Till we meet again.
(Knocking)
Ooh! Go on! Giddap!
Go on! Go on!
BIDET: Oh. I'll have another go.
CAMEMBERT: Show your authority, man.
BIDET: I can't.
- Show your authority!
- My trousers...
Bidet, I warn you...
Ouvrez! Ouvrez!
Stand aside, sir. I'll open it this time.
There he is. Seize him.
So, the accursed Fingernail
is in our hands at last.
It would seem so, Monsieur.
Oh, no, all your disguises and funny voices
won't help you now.
Take him below, and get fresh horses.
We leave for Paris immediately.
And Bid... Bidet? Where is he?
And this, you claim, is the Black Fingernail?
Yes, Citizen Robespierre.
Er... but this is a woman.
Oh, yes!
He may look like a woman,
but the Fingernail is a master of deception.
Just because he rode all the way from Calais
side-saddle...
All right, Citizen Camembert.
If you insist this is a man, prove it.
- Me? But how?
- How? How, he asks.
Call yourself a Frenchman?
- (Clears throat) If I might make a suggestion.
- Well, what is it?
I have an infallible method
for finding out the true sex, sir.
- Yes?
- Yes, sir. Sooner or later, sir,
he or she
will want to go and powder his or her nose.
Right, sir. When that time comes,
we merely put him or her in a place
that has two cloakrooms.
Ladies and gents.
Then we secretly observe
which one he or she goes into.
Citizen Bidet, I really must commend you.
Any time, Citizen.
If I chopped off your head,
you'd still have as much brains
as you have now.
Thank you, sir.
I'll show you what sex she is.
There. Have either of you ever seen
a man looking like that?
Well, it's marvellous
what you can do with padding.
If I could just have a bit of a prod...
No, you cannot have a bit of a prod.
Imbecile! Admit it.
This Fingernail
has made a monkey out of you again.
All right, girl. Tell me. Where is he?
Out of your reach. Safe back in England.
It should be quite obvious to you now,
Camembert.
She and this Fingernail
have been in collusion together.
Oh, no, Citizen.
I don't think they had time for anything like that.
Take her away! And make her talk.
And get me this Fingernail.
Yes, Citizen, but it won't be easy,
if he's gone back to England.
Then go to England. Find him.
Unfrock this master of deception.
- But what if I fail?
- Then don't bother to get your hair cut!
Go to England? What for?
I told you. To find this accursed Black Fingernail.
- Well, what's going to happen to me?
- What do you mean, happen to you?
Well, you're my protector. Who'll protect me?
I can't think about things like that now.
I'm in danger of watching my own head roll.
It wouldn't roll far. It's too square.
I wish you wouldn't do that.
When you undress, it's like emptying a dustbin.
Well, why don't you buy me a wastebasket,
then?
That's all I've ever really wanted out of life -
the simple things.
I'd like to marry a nice man with a fortune...
Then why don't you go and marry someone
with a title?
How can I?
You keep slicing their bloomin' heads off.
(Knock on door)
- Who's that?
Oh, it's you.
Sorry to disturb you, Citizen, sir.
I mean, you did say, if it was anything im...
...portant...
Evening, Citizen miss.
- Well?
- Very nice. Very nice indeed.
Well, don't just stand there, man. Get it out.
- Get it out.
- Get what out?
Whatever it was that was so important.
It's about the girl. It's like you said, sir.
I spent half the night
working to get information out of her.
- And what did you find out?
- Nothing.
Nothing? Nothing at all?
No. She kept mum.
Never mind her financial arrangements
with her mother.
What about the Fingernail?
Oh, well, there was this silver locket.
It appears he gave it to her.
- With a lock of his hair?
- No, a set of his teeth.
A set of... A set of his teeth?
Fancy keeping your teeth in a silver locket!
I ask you!
Isn't that typical of these damned aristocrats?
A glass of water isn't good enough.
Mind you, sir, it'll help us to find him.
All we've got to do is to look for a man...
who talks like that.
A man who talks like that? That's no good.
You know these plutocrats.
He's probably got a second set.
- What are you gawping at?
- Er... I come from a poor family, miss.
We couldn't afford luxuries like you.
Just a crust of bread and...
an occasional bit of crackling.
Cammie, I'd be very much obliged
if you'd ask this underling
to take his hot, sticky eyes off me.
Underling? There'll be no more of that talk.
In our glorious Republic, all are equal.
Equality, fraternity... and liberty.
I don't care about the equalities and fraternities,
but I am not having the liberties.
- Quiet, you two. I've got it. I've got it!
- Well, you didn't get it off me.
This girl,
she is the bait with which we set the trap.
The Fingernail must be in love with her.
- But how do you know?
- My dear Bidet,
gentlemen don't go giving lockets with their teeth
in them to every casual acquaintance.
Oh, the English are a queer lot.
Be that as it may, once we let him know
we have this girl a prisoner,
he will hasten back to France to rescue her,
and then... he's in your trap.
Then what?
- Shut your trap.
- I only asked.
But how can we let him know
the girl's a prisoner,
if we don't know who he is?
We'll find out.
We leave for England immediately.
Now, there's a packet
leaving at dawn from Calais.
Oh, no, Citizen. It's too dangerous.
It won't be the first time I've caught a packet.
I mean, to go to England.
You know what they think of you over there.
Yes, he's right.
Only aristos are welcome there now.
Then we shall be aristos.
Hurry up, Bidet. Order my coach.
- Yes, sir.
- And don't forget my bag.
Not that one, you fool. I mean my travelling bag.
Oh, I don't know, though.
We'll need something to do on the journey.
Oh, excuse me.
# Slow music
Ah, Sir Rodney! I must congratulate you.
A perfectly splendid charity ball.
- Thank you, Lady Binder.
- Now, do tell me. What is it all in aid of?
SFA.
Oh, come. It must be in aid of something.
SFA. Stranded French Aristocrats.
Oh, of course. A very worthy cause.
And you've done them proud tonight.
But then, you've always had magnificent balls,
and I wouldn't miss one of them.
Thank you, Lady Binder.
Darcy, I've been waiting for you.
What news from France?
Nothing yet. We have agents making inquiries,
but the girl seems to have disappeared.
I've got to find her, Darcy. Did you tell them
they'd recognise her by my mother's teeth?
Yes. It's very difficult
looking in every girl's mouth, you know.
Not in the mouth, you fool!
In the locket round her neck.
Isn't it marvellous? No wonder they haven't
traced her. I'll have to go over myself.
I wouldn't, if I were you.
There's a price on your head.
Oh, and a couple calling themselves
the Duke and Duchess de la Plume de Ma Tante
arrived in London from France yesterday.
- Escaped?
- Mm-hm.
- Without our help?
- Exactly.
There is something fishy going on,
so I took the liberty of inviting them here tonight.
(Lisps) Good lad.
It'll give us a chance to... quiz them, eh?
Oh, thank you.
Come along. What's the matter with you?
It's these humpback bridges.
I shan't be able to sit down for a week.
Oh, don't be so vulgar.
You're supposed to be an aristocrat.
Don't they have bottoms, then?
Of course,
but down here they're called country seats.
- And what do they call them in London?
on a country seat.
Come on.
Welcome to Ffing House, my dears.
I'm Sir Rodney Ffing. Two Fs.
Ah, Sir Rodney.
I am Count Henri de la Plume de Ma Tante.
One P.
Delighted, my dear.
Methinks we have met before.
Oh, methinks not.
- Charmed to make your acquaintance.
- (Posh voice) Likewise, I'm sure.
Grace and beauty. You're a picture,
Mademoiselle... if a trifle overexposed.
You'll forgive this intrusion, Sir Rodney,
but after we heard about your ball...
- Think not of it. My house is yours.
- You're very kind.
And now you must make up for lost time.
You've got a little behind.
Oh, fancy you noticing! (Laughs)
- So, you've just escaped from France?
- Yes, by fishing boat.
Oh, yes.
I thought that perfume wasn't from Paris.
We're anxious to make the acquaintance
of the Black Fingernail.
- The what?
- The Black Fingernail,
that gallant gentleman who's been helping
so many of my dear compatriots to escape.
- Oh, yes, that big show-off.
- You know him, then?
Heavens, no!
I have no stomach for the manly, virile type.
Now, excuse me.
My card is marked for this dance.
Perhaps the Countess will honour me later.
Delighted... if someone will mark my card.
(Laughs)
I will, Countess. Don't worry.
Do you think that's the Black Fingernail?
What, that Ffing? Don't be silly.
Well, he seems very nice, and he's got a title.
Yes, I'm sure,
and it's not one you use in polite society.
Well... what do we do now, sir?
Circulate. Try and pick up anything
that might lead us to the Black Fingernail.
- Circulate? Right, sir.
- But remember, you must be circumspect.
Oh, I was, sir, when I was a baby.
# Lively music
Excuse me, my dear. May I cut in?
- Of course, Rodney, darling.
- Thank you, my dear.
Your friend, the Duc de la Plume de My Aunt.
What about him?
- He's the living image of Camembert.
- What, the leader of the Secret Police?
- The big cheese himself.
- Well, what's he doing over here?
Shh. Act naturally.
(Hiccups)
Oh, hark at me.
You needn't request an audience.
You've got one.
I can't help it.
These bubbles get lodged in my chest.
Hm, there's room for a few lodgers there.
- Psst.
- What?
- Psst.
- Don't be ridiculous. I've only had a couple.
(Whispers)
No, no, no. I think I've got a lead. Over there.
(Laughing)
The Duc de Pommfrit.
Do go on with your story, Duke. It's so thrilling.
Oh, yes.
There I was, face down on the guillotine,
with a basket full of dirty great heads
staring up at me.
I wonder what happens to all the heads.
Oh, my dear, they have a special place for them:
the napper's yard.
(Laughs)
Do go on with your story, Duke.
Well, the drum roll stopped,
and everything went extremely hush.
The executioner pulled the handle,
and the knife came down,
and bounced off the back of my neck.
- Bounced off the back of your neck?
- Yes! I had 'em fooled.
I was wearing a hard collar.
(Laughs) Well,
before they had time to recover themselves,
I leapt to my feet,
I seized the sword, and I laid into them.
Take that. Take that.
Take this. Take that. (Laughs)
And I must say, they took it very well.
- How many did you kill?
- Oh, six, seven.
Six or seven?
What a bloody sight it must have been.
Oh, it could have been a bloody sight more.
But what of the Black Fingernail?
- Was it not he who saved you?
- Him? Oh, no, my dear.
He was around, but I didn't need him.
Did you hear that, sir? What a load of bull.
All men talk nonsense in their cups, Bidet.
It's what we call "coq au vin".
But I bet he knows who the Black Fingernail is.
I say. Would any of you young ladies
care to join me for a stroll in the garden?
I know a nice, quiet little nook.
Not the nooky types, obviously. Oh, well.
- Why me?
Because you are a woman,
and women can do things to... disarm a man.
By the looks of him, he isn't even armed.
- Do as I say!
- Oh, all right.
But I warn you, one hint of the old whatsit,
and I'm turning it in.
- Follow her, Bidet. Watch what she does.
- Why? Don't you trust her?
Not all are as loyal to me as you are,
my faithful Bidet.
Thank you, sir.
I wish I had someone to follow him.
That's him there, the one
who looks like he's smelling something nasty.
- What do you think?
- Difficult to tell with that wig on.
Yes, if we could think
of some way of getting it off...
like a nice, juicy sneeze.
- Ah, Sir Rodney.
- All alone? Where's your gorgeous sister?
They just popped out.
(Tuts) That sort of thing is bound to happen
with those low-cut gowns.
You do take snuff?
The taking of snuff
is a vice of the degenerate aristocracy...
And I love it.
Well, you'll go mad about this one.
It's very special.
(Sniffs)
Rather mild for my taste, I fancy.
Aaa-choo!
My wig! Where's my wig? Oh!
Excuse me, madam. That's my wig, I think.
Yes, that's more like it...
Oh... Well, perhaps not.
(Water splashing)
Oh... excuse me, but I seem to 'ave dropped
my 'andkerchief somewhere.
Oh, it was yours, was it? I did see it somewhere.
Oh, don't bother, really. I... l...
- What is it?
- I feel a little wan.
Oh, dear. Then perhaps you'd better sit down.
How kind you are! (Chuckles)
Is there somewhere
we can be quiet and undisturbed?
Oh, rather.
There is a beautiful spot in the arbour.
Oh, really?
I had no idea we were so near the sea.
(Laughs) Come!
What a quaint little place.
POMMFRIT: It is called a "love pavilion".
Oh, really? I wonder why.
Yes, so do I. This marble seat's enough
to cool anyone's ardour. However...
Why, sir, what are you doing?
Mademoiselle, may I say you are the most
ravishingly beautiful woman I have ever seen?
Am I really? Oh, no, sir, you mustn't. I do insist.
'Ere, knock it off.
- What's wrong?
- Well, there is something I want from you.
Oh, well, that's all right, then.
As long as we're both on the same lines.
No, no, sir.
Besides, I insist we have a little talk first.
Oh, very well, then. What about?
I believe you know who the Black Fingernail is.
Yes. Well, I enjoyed that little chat. Now, then...
I haven't finished yet. Besides,
my brother, the Count, wishes to meet him.
I'm afraid that is impossible.
You see, I promised never to reveal his identity.
Not even to please you.
Not even if I were to please you?
Not even if you were to...
Oh, that's different.
I say. How pleasing do you think you can get?
As pleasing as...
...that, for example.
A few more examples like that,
and you can please yourself.
- Come here, you little vixen!
- Oh, get off! Stop it!
I can't stop it.
My blood's on fire, my heart's on fire...
Yes, and your hands are groping. Get off!
POMMFRIT:
Vive l'amour! Down with everything!
Darcy,
you must be more careful where you sneeze.
You quite upset Monsieur Camembert.
What's that? What did you call me?
You called me Monsieur Camembert. Why?
Oh, do forgive me. A slip of the tongue.
But you do look like a chappie of that name
we met in Paris. You remember, Darcy?
Oh, yes, a weaselly-faced little runt
who tried to sell us those funny postcards.
Of course, it couldn't be you, could it, Count?
Do I look like a man who sells funny postcards?
Not a bit. You look more like the chappie
on the funny postcards.
I hardly think that's possible.
That's what I said when I saw the postcards.
Forgive me, gentlemen.
I find this conversation rather boring.
Well, then, let's change it, Count.
Did you have any luck finding that chappie?
What did you call him? The Big Toenail?
The Black Fingernail.
Ah, yes, of course. Aren't I a silly Ffing?
Er... excuse me.
My secretary wishes to speak to me.
- Well?
- She's with him, Pommfrit, in the garden.
- Excellent. Is she getting it?
- Not half.
- What do you mean?
- (Whispers)
- Had what off?
- His gloves.
Bad news, my dear Count?
On the contrary. I fancy my quest
for the Black Fingernail will soon be at an end.
(Pommfrit laughs)
He... Oh.
Never again.
Next time you want information, get it yourself.
(Lisps) Was it a distressing experience?
Distressin'? Talk about wanderin' hands!
He could write a travel book.
Well, never mind.
Did you get the information I wanted?
Oh, yes,
he knows who the Black Fingernail is, all right.
Oh, there you are!
Oh, hello, Duke.
Naughty little girl. Running off like that,
just when my resistance was weakening.
Oh, this is my brother,
the one what I was talking to you about.
- How do you do?
- Delighted.
My sister says
you have some information for me.
Oh, you must be the one
who's looking for the Black Fingernail.
- Yes, I am.
- There you are.
Oh, why can't we go home?
I'm fed up with this country.
They all want you to talk about their parents.
What do you mean?
I've had dozens of men say to me,
"What about a bit of how's-your-father?"
Well, what else can you expect
from a bunch of beef-eaters?
Why don't they eat frogs' legs and snails,
like normal people do?
Oh, the English have always been backward.
Do you know,
they're still taking people's heads off by hand!
Ow!
Doesn't surprise me. People who keep
false teeth in lockets are capable of anything.
The locket! I almost forgot.
We may trap the Fingernail yet. Put this on.
Oh, not that horrible thing.
It's got false teeth in it.
Oh, it's all right. They won't bite you.
Oh, all right.
When you go back in the ballroom, make sure
you dance with every man there, if you have to,
and also make sure he gets a good look... at that.
They always do.
- I mean the locket.
- Oh.
Go on, then. And don't forget, keep flashing it.
Watch her, Bidet, and report to me
if anyone recognises the locket.
Oh, yes, sir.
# Slow music
- I see you're admiring my locket.
- What locket?!
Ah-ha!
Excuse me.
- Pretty, isn't it?
- Magnificent.
'Ere, have a good look. That better?
Yes, thank you. It was rather in the way.
Oh. Excuse me.
# Jaunty music
Erm... excuse me, but erm... that locket.
Yes? What about it?
W-Would you mind taking it off?
It keeps b-bashing me in the face.
- Really, Sir Rodney!
- This chain round your neck... may I pull it?
Please do.
- Where did you get that?
- You recognise it?
- Yes, it was mine. I gave it to...
- Yes?
- I must talk to you alone.
- Where?
In the arbour in five minutes.
- Oh!
- You didn't tell anyone about our assignation?
I didn't even tell 'em we was meeting.
Clever girl.
Oh, sir... you mustn't.
I must say it, though.
I must confess, his kiss kindles a flame in me.
I s-s-simply cannot help it.
I'm absolutely enamoured of you.
I've got to say it,
even if she does get on my wick.
And I of you, from the first moment we met.
Oh, how can I betray him to Cammie?
This is a bit of luck.
I can find out where she got that locket.
My little poodle.
Inever knew that Englishmen could love so.
Hold me close again, I pray you.
I care not if you are the Black Fingernail,
- and an enemy of France.
- How did you know that?
You recognised the locket.
It was set there to trap you.
- By Camembert?
- Then you know who he is?
From the moment I saw him.
Now, where is the girl you got that locket from?
- I will tell you, if...
- If what?
...if you will make me thine.
- Make you mine?
- Make me thine.
I don't think I can go that far.
Look, I want to be Lady Rodney Ffing.
Yes, all right, providing you promise not to tell
Camembert that I am the Black Fingernail.
- Gladly.
- Right.
Now, then, about that girl...
Camembert... has her prisoner. The Bastille.
I know what he is. Where is the girl?
I've just told you. She's in the Bastille.
- The swine. I'll kill him.
- No, no, you must not do that.
He has left orders that if he does not return
within the week, she will go to the guillotine.
- Then I've got to get back to France...
- 'Ere! What about our bargain?
- I hadn't forgotten it.
- Well, then, seal it.
- I haven't got any sealing wax.
- Well, I have.
No, madam! Madam! Put me down.
It worked! It worked! We've got him.
- Who is it? Who?
- You'll never guess. Sir Rodney.
What? That Ffing? lmpossible.
It's him, all right. He said the locket was his.
I can't believe it. That fiddlesome fop?
That doodling dandiprat? The Black Fingernail?
Yes. Shall I do him now?
No, no, this must be handled with caution.
We're not in France now.
In this ridiculous country, you need a reason
for killing someone. Where is he?
In the rose arbour? Doing what?
Well, I bet they're not watering the plants.
He's played right into my hands.
I'll walk in there, surprise them both at it,
play the outraged brother,
and challenge him to a duel... thus.
Aren't you taking a bit of a chance, sir?
You seem to forget, Bidet.
I am the finest pistol shot in France,
and it's obvious
he's no use with any sort of weapon.
You wouldn't say that
if you'd seen him in the rose... (Clears throat)
I'll go and fetch a duelling pistol.
But just to be on the safe side,
make sure you only load one with ball.
(Sir Rodney whimpers)
- What's this I see?
- Cammie!
Oh!
My own sister ravaged before my very eyes.
- No, no, it's the other way round.
- You despicable cur, sir.
I demand immediate satisfaction.
This seems a failing in your family.
Enough, sir. You have insulted the honour
of the de la Plumes.
- To say nothing of Ma Tante.
- Ooh, that hurt.
As the injured party,
I have the choice of swords or pistols.
Well, we won't quarrel.
You have the swords, I'll have the pistols.
Do not jest, sir! Believe me: I am deadly earnest.
And I am living Rodney,
and mean to stay that way.
You have no choice. This is an affair of honour.
We meet at dawn.
Couldn't we make it later?
I sleep until midday.
At dawn, sir. One hour from now.
Oh, very well. Where?
You may choose the location.
- What about the Garden of Fragrance?
- The Garden of Fragrance it is, sir.
They say the scent's lovely in the morning.
Till dawn, then.
What hour is it?
A minute before dawn, sir.
Hello. Here they come.
- I don't care for your choice of location.
- I know what I'm doing. Are the horses ready?
- Waiting. Will you kill him?
- No. He'd have the girl's head.
I've just got to delay him long enough
for us to get a good start.
Morning. Well, here we are, then.
What happens now?
- What? Haven't you ever fought a duel before?
- Only with conkers.
- It's going to be a piece of cake, sir.
- I've never had a fight with cake.
Wait for me!
- What's he doing here?
- The Duke has agreed to act as referee.
Good morning, gentlemen.
Lovely day. Are we ready?
- Yes.
- Splendid. Now, I want a good clean fight.
No fouling, plenty of action,
and no shooting below the belt. Right?
- Right.
- Right.
Now, then, arm yourselves, gentlemen, please.
For me? Oh, thanks.
- You're only supposed to have one.
- Yes, only one.
Well, for heaven's sake, get on with it!
Now, now. Temper, temper. I am the referee,
and we shall start when I am ready. Ready?
Seconds... out.
(Chuckles) Well done.
Now, then, will you face me, gentlemen, please?
Now, when I give the signal, you will turn,
walk ten paces, and fire.
Are we ready? Good show.
(Blows whistle)
- Aaargh!
- I say, you're a bit close, aren't you?
You nincompoop!
You're supposed to go the other way.
- Which other way?
- Over there. Go on.
Did you see that? He pushed me.
Come back here at once!
I'm very cross with you.
Another incident, and I shall send you both off.
Well, he started it.
- No, I did not!
- Yes, you did.
That's enough. Really!
All this fuss over a silly little duel.
Now, take your positions again.
We will start back-to-back this time.
That is better. Now, are you ready?
(Screams) No! No! Don't kill him!
I love... No!
Get out of the way, woman!
Get off! Get off! Get her off.
Get that fan off the pitch.
- Oooh! Oooh!
- I have never seen anything like it.
You're a disgrace!
If I may say so, sir,
you're showing an extraordinary lack of control.
- So are you, in those trousers!
- You mind your own business.
Now, for the last time, gentlemen...
places, please.
Yes... Oh, thank you.
Are you ready?
- Excuse me.
- Oh, what now?
Could we make it 15 paces instead of ten?
- What on earth for?
- Well, 15 is my lucky number.
Oh, all right! 15 paces.
For heaven's sake, let's get this thing over with.
- (Laughs)
- Oh, no! (Chuckles)
Come on.
BIDET: Sir! Sir! Are you all right?
- Was it the?
- The cesspit, where he belongs.
Oh!
Ooh! He's right in it this time.
- That's why you picked this place.
- Yeah, that's it. Get the horses. Come on.
(Groans)
Ready?
Now!
DARCY: Come on. Here we go.
Oi, Rodney, what about our bargain?
Looks like you've lost your new-found love!
(Both moan)
Are you all right, sir?
The kiss of life!
- What, no chopping today?
- Too early.
The unions won't let them work before breakfast.
Why didn't you get rid of old stinky Camembert
when you had the chance?
You stupid Darcy. If Camembert
doesn't come back alive, the girl gets the chop.
Now, where is this Bastille, Pommfrit?
- I haven't got it.
- You've been there.
Oh, there. Yes, of course. Follow me.
- I shall want half your detachment, Captain.
- Right, half of you, fall out.
We're too late.
(Door opens)
- He hasn't got her, sir. Look!
- I can see that, you great nitwit!
Citizen Nitwit, if you don't mind, sir.
In our new Republic, all are equal...
Yes, yes, I know all that rubbish.
So, Mademoiselle, we meet again.
I'm not afraid of you.
Send me to the guillotine, if you will.
You will never learn the identity
of the Black Fingernail.
I don't need to, Mademoiselle.
I already know who he is.
- What?
- Yes, an English fop.
A dancing dandy. A mincing ninny.
His name is Sir Rodney Ffing.
With two Fs.
Sir Rodney Ffing! With two Fs.
Even his name is music to my ears.
And I happen to know
that he's in Paris even now,
and that he intends to try to rescue you.
And when he does try, I shall be waiting for him.
Oh, what a dastardly scheme!
Now, now,
none of your filthy, bourgeois language here.
I shall not let him come here.
I shall get warning to him somehow.
I thought you might try that,
so I've arranged to have you secretly conveyed
to another place of detention. Come.
I can't stand it. I'm going in.
You must be joking. There's too many of them.
We're not even armed.
So what?
Who knows what's happening to her in there?
Death, or even a fate worse than death.
Don't worry. I haven't tried death,
but I tried the other. It's not as bad as they say.
- Somebody's coming.
- Come on.
Oh!
You know where to take her?
- Yes, Citizen.
- Get going.
And guard her well, if you value your head.
I want two men on duty near her old cell,
night and day, Captain.
Yes, Citizen.
And you, Bidet, will remain in her cell.
If anyone tries to get in, arrest them immediately,
no matter who or what they look like.
Understand?
Don't worry, Citizen, sir.
He won't fool me with his disguises.
Good. Let me know the moment
anything happens. I shall be in my office.
Nice of them to tell us they're setting a trap.
Yes, isn't it? We'll make good use of it.
How?
Well, the first thing we do is find out where
they've taken her. It's very simple. Come on.
(Grunting)
(Laughs)
You two, come with me.
(Grunting)
Count of Marseilles,
Princess of Lyons, Duc de Saville...
Guillotine, guillotine, guillotine.
(Knock on door)
- Come.
Citizen! Bidet's caught someone.
What?! At last! At last!
(Cackles)
This should be him. Come on.
- Hands up!
- What are you doing?
I'm arresting you, you fool.
Are you out of your senses?
It's me, Camembert.
Yes, of course, and I'm Madame Pompadour.
Don't take that tone with me, you upstart!
Watch it, watch it. Oh, you've made
a right mess of this, haven't you?
You don't even look like Camembert.
But I am him. I mean, he.
Yes, we'll see about that. Guards!
You fool!
- Does this look like Camembert?
- No, not half ugly enough.
- Where are those beady little eyes?
- And the snotty nose?
- And the rabbit teeth?
- All right. Take him away!
- Where are you taking me?
- To Citizen Camembert.
But I am Citizen Camembert.
Get out! Go on.
- He's not here.
- Of course he's not here. I'm him!
Why don't we take him to Citizen Robespierre?
Yes, Robespierre. He'll tell you who I am.
Out! Out!
All right. In you go.
Citizen Robespierre,
will you tell these fools who I am?
Well, who are you?
I don't believe it. You know me.
Citizen Camembert. Little Cammie.
I know Citizen Camembert very well,
but who are you?
Oh, no! Oh!
I caught him trying to rescue the girl, sir.
Well done, Bidet.
Of course,
the idea for the trap was mine, Citizen.
Your idea?
Don't believe him, the two-faced little rat.
The girl isn't in the cell. I had her removed,
so the Fingernail couldn't get her.
- Oh? Where to?
With a guard of 20 soldiers over her.
Would I know all that if I weren't Camembert?
I'll look into it. Bidet, guard him well.
- Yes, sir.
- You two, come with me.
So, trapping the Fingernail was your idea,
was it?
Yes, that's right.
Citizen Camembert's not a bad old stick,
but he hasn't got it up here like me.
You stupid great fool!
- (Groaning)
- What's that?
I don't know.
(Gasps) Citizen Robespierre!
It can't be. He just went out.
That wasn't him, you blithering idiot!
That was the Fingernail. He's done it again.
- Then you must be...
BOTH: Camembert, yes.
Now will you believe me, you blithering idiot?
Oh, no! The girl. I told him where she is.
My coach, quick.
(Robespierre grunts)
Or, as you would call it, Number Nine.
Well named. It won't be easy to take.
Not against 20 soldiers.
Are those doors the only way in?
- Oh, yes.
- They look pretty solid to me.
- We need a ram.
- I saw one in the field.
- That was a ewe.
- Wait. I've got a better idea. Gunpowder.
'Ere! What about me?
- Well, hurry.
- Nice manners, I must say.
Ouvrez! Ouvrez! And hurry up about it.
Ouvrez! Ouvrez!
Oh, it's you, Citizen.
- Is the girl all right?
- Yes, Citizen. Fine.
Thank goodness for that.
We're in time. What's all that?
(French accent) # He loves me
SOLDIERS: # Yeah, yeah, yeah
# He loves me
# Yeah, yeah, yeah
# He lo-o-ves me
# Yeah, yeah, yeah
- What's going on in here?
- # Yeah, yeah, yeah
# He loves me
# Yeah, yeah, yeah
# He lo-o-ves me
# Yeah, yeah, yeah
Stop it! Stop it at once.
Get off the furniture, you louts!
How dare you sit on old, priceless antiques!
How dare you spoil beautiful things
with your grubby seat marks!
It's a disgrace. What's she doing with that harp?
- Plucking it.
- Well, I didn't think she was knitting with it.
I didn't see any harm in a bit of freedom.
No harm,
when the Fingernail may arrive at any moment?
Take her to the top room of the High Tower.
Yes, Citizen. But there's a window there.
He might see her at it.
Fool! I want him to see her at it.
She is the bait
that will draw him into my final trap.
Yes, Citizen. Right, you two, bring the girl.
Follow me.
Oh, filthy great louts!
Oh, absolute vandalism. They don't
appreciate good stuff when they see it.
Why the fuss about a crummy bit of furniture?
Crummy? This was the home
of Prince Jacques de Tourville,
one of the greatest art collectors in France.
Every piece in it is priceless.
So what? It's not yours, is it?
Yes! It was presented to me as a reward
for all my services to the Revolution.
- Who by?
- Me, of course.
- Oh.
- But what about Prince Jacques?
Never mind Jacques. I'm all right.
- But where do I fit in?
- Wouldn't you like to be mistress of this?
No, I'm finished with that.
It's marriage for me or nothing.
Yes, I like the sound of that.
Oh, we'll see. We'll see. Come.
I must show you the private apartments.
They're magnificent.
Do you know, even the china thing is Dresden.
Bidet...
- Yes, Citizen, sir?
- I shall want top security. This is my final trap.
And she is the bait.
And what a smashing bit of cheese, sir!
(Laughs)
Oooh! Oh! Oh!
Oh, isn't it lovely?
What's that mirror up there for?
Oh, as I was saying,
the Prince was a great collector.
Oh, yes. He had some beautiful pieces.
Just look at this wardrobe here.
(Gasps) Oh!
These were the Prince's?
- His wife's.
- Oh, I was going to say!
Oh, look at this beautiful one.
- Would you like me to get it out for you?
- Oh, yes, Cammie.
Ooh!
Isn't it lovely?
- Why don't you try it on?
- Can I?
- Of course.
- Oh, Cammie! Oh, this is fun!
Help me get my dress off.
- Why are these doors bolted?
- So the Fingernail can't get in.
Imbecile! We want him in.
It's a trap. Open them.
- But...
- Open the doors!
- I've had my orders, Citizen.
- Oh, well... never mind. I'll do it.
- Come along. The doors are open.
- I know, but they opened them.
What was that noise?
Bidet? Bidet? Where are you? Where?
- It looks like a trap.
- Yes, it's the spider-and-fly trick.
We'll have to find another way in.
I've got to get into Jacqueline's room.
Isn't it marvellous? I can't trust him
to do a thing without making a mess of it.
Bidet? Bidet? Are you all right? Bidet?
Mother!
Sorry, Citizen, sir. I can't think straight.
My brain's not working properly.
Yes, he's all right. Perfectly normal.
The Fingernail will be here any minute.
Now, no shooting.
I don't want bullet holes in my furniture.
Back to your stations, out of sight.
Yes, Citizen.
(Bidet groans)
Are you sure this will get me up there?
We used it at the siege of Agincourt.
All right. Go on. Let her go.
Aaaargh!
(Glass smashing)
You!
- Now, don't scream.
- Why? What are you going to do to me?
- Nothing.
- Well, that settles it. Help!
I tell you, I distinctly heard a crash. Come on.
Now, you know where she is,
and I've got to get her. Will you help me?
Look, you made a bargain,
and you never kept it.
I promise you,
if you help me, you'll marry your title.
- Honour bright?
- See that wet? See it dry?
If I break my promise, you can spit in my eye.
Not now!
Well?
All right. It's a deal.
And what, pray, is the meaning of this intrusion?
What was that crash?
Oh, well,
I had a little accident opening the window.
A little accident?
That was worth thousands of francs.
It's a stained-glass window.
Well, if it was stained, it needed replacing.
It needed repla...
Someone's been in here.
Don't be silly.
I don't believe you. Search the rooms.
- Please yourself.
- I will.
- Citizen, sir.
- What is it?
Look. Earmuffs.
You idiot! They're kneepads.
- Oh, yes.
(Thud)
(Shrieking and moaning)
Citizen, sir, I've got him, the Black Fingernail!
He's trapped.
Citizen Camembert? Citizen...
...Camembert.
(Banging)
(Muffled) You stupid...
Where are you? Where are you?
You stupid idiot!
What do you think you're doing?
Hello. Citizen Camembert
wants me to speak to the girl.
Certainly, madam.
All right. You can come out now.
That was a hair-raising experience.
- You!
- Yes! It's me.
- You said you would come back.
- I said I would come back.
- And you are here.
- And I am here.
- Like you said you would.
- Like I said I would.
Oh, all right.
What are you trying to do? Make a play of it?
- I never thought you would come back like this.
- It was the only way.
- You took a big risk.
- Not half as big as the one I took.
- I love you.
- And I love you.
Oh, that's enough.
- Come on. Let's get out of here.
- But how?
I've got friends. Here. See?
They're waiting for my signal.
Right, my friend. To arms.
In case it slipped your mind,
you're supposed to get us out of here.
Eh? Oh, yes.
Right. You go first, and we'll follow.
In a couple of days.
Oh, no, you don't.
We all go together, or not at all.
All right, then, spoilsport.
Go on. Make a noise. Call for help.
(Squeals) Help!
(Cackles)
Stay here.
I'll send for you when it's over. (Laughs)
Yoo-hoo!
(Blows raspberry) It's me.
The Black Fingernail! After him.
(Shouting)
Bolt all the doors, Bidet.
We've got him in the trap.
Yes, sir.
DARCY: Come on, Pommfrit.
Ah-ha-ha! Come on.
Defend yourself, you poxy knave!
I'll have you arrested for this. You know
what you're doing? You're masquerading.
Help! Help! Help!
Pax! Fainites!
(Laughs)
Cor!
No, no! Don't shoot. Mind the furniture.
No, no. Use your swords.
Darcy!
Now.
Ha-ha-ha! Come on.
Aaaargh!
(Laughs) Tremendous fun!
Get going. I'll hold 'em off.
(Laughs)
You'll pay for that window!
You'll pay for it. Do you hear?
Hey-yaargh!
Argh!
You clumsy great lout!
Can't you be more careful?
You've ruined my petit point.
It could never have happened
before the Revolution.
(Groans)
Oh, beautiful things! Irreplaceable.
(Shrieks and laughs)
Wait! Mind the vase.
Ready?
Oh, no! One of the finest collections in France.
Ruined! Ruined! Gone for ever.
SOLDIER: Go on!
(Pommfrit laughs)
Oh, no!
(Cackles)
Won't be a minute, Duke.
Oh, no! Not the harp.
POMMFRIT: Ah-ha! Ooh, I say!
- (Pommfrit laughs)
- Thank you, Duke.
Vandals! This took years to make.
Oh, beautiful thing!
Bidet! Bidet! Speak to me.
Waargh.
Oh... my bust!
Oh, beautiful thing.
Ha-ha!
- Oh, shut up. Get the girls.
Look out, Rodney!
Oh, no! What have I done?
(Gasp of shock)
Well, Cheeseface, the reckoning has come.
All right, Sir Rodney. You win. I give up.
What shall we do with him, Darcy?
Well, there are lots of things we could do.
Hang him, drown him...
- Or just ventilate him!
- I'm coming, Citizen, sir!
Oh, no!
Oh, oh, no, no, no!
Darcy, bring the girls!
DARCY: Come on. Let's get out of here.
Come on, Pommfrit.
CAMEMBERT: Pull it up!
Up a bit! I'm holding it.
DARCY: Let's get out of here.
Anyway, we've drawn a big crowd.
I have, you mean. You don't think they've come
to see your miserable head fall, do you?
I hope the rain keeps off. I forgot my hat.
Thank goodness
the accursed Fingernail is not here to see this.
I've got news for you.
I wouldn't have missed this for the world.
(Laughs)
(Crowd cheers)
# Wedding March
Nice way to keep a bargain, I must say!
What's the matter?
I promised you a title, and he's got one.
I hate to think what it is.
(Cackles)