Carry On Henry Page #2

- Not that kind of nibble, you great fat ape!

- You steamin' great...

Shut up, the two of you! The answer is no.

I have neither eaten, consumed or had a nibble.

So just you make absolutely sure

you get rid of her by the time I get back.

But wait, wait.

Your Majesty's going somewhere?

- Yes, hunting.

- Oh, nice. What for?

Something to eat. I'm starving. Ha, ha!

This is terrible, terrible.

I cannot risk disfavour with the Vatican again.

Nor I with France.

Marie is their king's favourite cousin.

It would seem we must unite, my lord,

to keep this marriage alive.

- Of course, but how?

- By procrastination.

What? If he has that,

he'll never be able to have an issue.

Oh, dear! You really must get

another dictionary, Cardinal.

(Hunting horn and hounds barking)

(Knock on door)

It's only me.

Oh, I thought it might be the King.

Alas, madam, he's been called out

on state business.

I just popped in to see if there was...

anything you wanted.

Oh, yes, there is, Sir Roger.

But I doubt if you could supply it.

Oh, no!

Oh!

What a delightful odour.

Can it be... garlic?

Why, yes! Do you like it, then, Sir Roger?

Everyone should have it.

Oh, well.

Here, help yourself.

Thank you.

Ah, that's better. Ha, ha!

So now to work.

- Why, Sir Roger, what are you about?

- I'm undressing, madam.

- But to what end?

- Didn't you know?

As the King's taster,

I have to try everything before he does.

# Hunting horns

- We have found well today, Your Majesty.

- Stop calling me Your Majesty.

At this sport, I'm always incognito.

- Of course. Will we wait for you, sire?

- No, I'll find my own way back. It may take time.

- Oh! Good hunting, sire.

- Thank you. I'll save the brush for you.

Walk on.

(Gasps for breath)

Ha, ha, ha!

Well, well, well, my pretty.

Ha-ha, ha-ha!

- Don't be frightened.

- Who are you? And what do you want?

- Just a hunter looking for some sport.

- You look like a gentleman.

Don't let the clothes fool you. Come here.

Come here, come here.

Hey, not so fast there!

I don't even know your name.

Call me Henry.

Henry, eh?

Same as that miserable sot who rules us.

- Miserable what?

- Sot.

Oh, sot. Oh, he's quite a nice fellow, really.

Oh? You want to hear my dad go on about him.

The way he keeps screwing us on taxes.

Whatever else he does,

I can assure you it's not screwing.

My dad says hanging's too good for him.

He'd like to see him fry in his own fat.

Really? I must meet your dad sometime.

I'd like to swap recipes with him.

My dad says him and Earl Cromwell

are a right pretty pair.

- Not half as pretty as the one I'm looking at.

- Oh, no, you don't!

We're not in the hay

just to look for needles, are we?

That's all very well. But what am I going to get?

What are you going to get?

What do you normally get?

You know what I mean. People are prepared

to pay handsomely for my favours.

Oh, blimey.

Here, I've only got a two shilling piece.

Oh! I haven't got any change.

Don't worry, darling.

You can owe it to me.

Oh! Ooh!

Ha, ha, ha!

Ooh, aren't your hands rough?

Eh? Oh, hang on, I'll take off my gauntlets.

- Oooh!

- Is that better?

- Cor, you don't waste much time, do you?

- No, blimey, why should I?

How many petticoats have you got?

Blimey, it's like peeling an artichoke.

Ha, ha, ha!

So that's the way of it?

You varmint! I'll kill you!

- Hang on, just a minute.

- It's my dad!

Is it? Blimey!

Before you do anything you'll regret,

let me tell you who you're talking to.

I happen to be... Your dad, did you say?

- Yes.

- Go on, you are what?

I'm off. Give me my money back!

(Pigs oinking)

Oh, blimey. In it again!

You may be seated.

Are Their Majesties not coming to dinner?

I doubt it. The King is still away hunting

and the Queen has vowed to remain in her room

until she's no longer a virgin.

Poor dear woman! Perhaps I could do

something to get her down.

By way of verbal persuasion, I mean.

Any kind of persuasion from you

would get anybody down.

No, let her stay there and stew in her own juice.

Her most gracious Majesty, Queen Marie!

Good Lord!

# Trumpet fanfare

- Good evening, my Lord Chancellor.

- Your Majesty, this is an unexpected surprise.

We've not had the pleasure of your company

for a meal as yet.

No, I've been having it in my room

with Sir Roger. He persuaded me to come down.

Oh, well, Your Majesty,

all I can say is your loss is our gain.

Thank you. The King is not home yet?

Still away, ma'am, on urgent business.

State affairs, you understand?

Excellent. Then, Sir Roger, it is my wish

that you be seated here beside me.

Ou? La, madam? No, that is the King's place.

Marry, Sir Roger, you did not show

the same reluctance to take his place earlier.

Her Majesty jests, of course.

- With your permission, I will take my usual seat.

- Oh, do as I say and shut up!

Pray be seated, ladies and gentlemen.

Mmm!

Quite nice.

A drink, ma'am?

- Thank you.

- I can heartily recommend the porter here.

Really? Then do send him up to my room later.

- You're not eating?

- With your permission, ma'am.

(Murmuring)

- (Groans of disgust)

- You do not find it appetising?

Oh, yes, madam.

But it has a somewhat unusual flavour.

Oh, that'll be the garlic.

(Cries of horror)

I sent orders to the kitchen

to have it put in everything.

I felt it might be a step toward...

converting the King.

His Majesty, the King!

Ah, my dear devoted husband has returned.

(Sniffs)

She's stunk the whole place out with it!

Haven't you got rid of her yet?

A slight technical hitch, Your Majesty.

I shall explain later.

It better be good. Or!

All right, carry on eating.

I'm starving! What's good, Cromwell?

Oh, I wouldn't recommend anything tonight, sire.

I'd just have a cup of tea

and a bun in your room.

Don't be silly. It looks very tasty.

Especially the roast peacock.

Definitely not up to standard, sire.

It's all cock and no pea.

That's exactly how I like it.

Sir Roger has tasted it, I suppose?

Oh, yes. As a matter of fact,

he's tried everything.

Good.

That does it!

- Out! I want her out of here now!

- Do not worry, I am leaving.

- Good.

- But to go to my bedchamber,

where, in due course, I expect you to join me.

- Me join you? Hah, you'll be lucky!

- If I am not lucky, my lord,

you may be sure

my cousin King Francis will learn of it.

She threatened me! Get the executioner!

I beg you, sire, do nothing now that you may

regret later. We can ill afford to fight France.

Are you telling me

they will declare war if I don't bed her?

Wars have been fought over less, sire.

The thing to do, sire, is to play for time.

Act the part of a loving husband.

- Impossible!

- You don't have to enjoy it, sire.

- Simply go through the motions.

- How can I, without doing anything?

Yes, that's true. It would seem the Queen has

got you by the well-known... chandeliers.

Exactly. And if I do bed her, Wolsey won't be

able to get the annulment, will he?

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