Melchett: Grey, I suspect, your Majesty.
Queen Elizabeth: I think you'll find they were orange, Lord Melchett.
Melchett: Grey is more usual, Ma'am.
Queen Elizabeth: Who's Queen?
Melchett: As you say, Majesty. There were these magnificent orange elephants...
[Blackadder is writing a letter to Amy, as dictated by the Prince.]
Prince George: Tally ho, my fine, saucy young trollop. Your luck's in. Trip along here with all your cash and some naughty night attire, and you'll be staring at my bedroom ceiling from now till Christmas, you lucky tart. Yours with the deepest respect etc. Signed George. PS Woof, woof!
Blackadder: Ah, yes your highness...if I may change one small aspect?
Prince George: What?
Blackadder: The words?
Blackadder: I smell something fishy, and I'm not talking about the contents of Baldrick's apple crumble.
Blackadder: Baldrick, I would like to say how much I will miss your honest, friendly companionship.
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