(During an archery practice)
Percy: Sorry I'm
late.
Edmund (Blackadder): No, don't bother apologizing. I'm sorry you're alive.
Percy: Oh good, I see the
target is ready. (Picks up the bow) I'd like to see the Spaniard who could make his way past me.
Edmund:
Well, go to Spain. There are millions of them.
Percy: I'll advise them to
stay there then. Keep their hands off our women.
Edmund: Oh
God, who is she this time?
Percy: I don't know what you mean. Aah, ouch, aah. (Edmund succeeds in pilfering a letter from Percy)
Edmund: Aah, and who is Jane?
Percy: I'm sworn to secrecy. Torture me, kill me, you shall never know. Ooh, ouch... Jane Herrington. We're very much in love, my lord.
Edmund: This is the Jane Herrington?
Percy: Yes.
Edmund: Jane - bury-me-in-a-
Y-shaped-coffin - Herrington.
Percy: I.., I think
maybe there are
two Jane Herringtons.
Edmund: No...
Tall, blond, elegant?
Percy: Right, that's right.
Edmund: Goes like a privy door when the plague is in town? Come on, get on with your shot. You'll get over her... I did...