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ARTHUR: Old woman! DENNIS: Man!
ARTHUR: Man. Sorry. What knight lives in that castle over there? DENNIS: I'm thirty-seven.
ARTHUR: What?
DENNIS: I'm thirty-seven! I'm not old!
ARTHUR: Well, I can't just call you man. DENNIS: You could say Dennis.
ARTHUR: I didn't know you were called Dennis!
DENNIS: Well, you didn't bother to find out, did you?
ARTHUR: I did say sorry about the old woman. But from behind you looked...
DENNIS: What I object to is you automatically treat me like an inferior.
ARTHUR: Well, I am king. DENNIS: Oh, king, eh. Very nice.
And how did you get that, eh? By exploiting the workers.
By hanging on to outdated imperialist dogma which
perpetuates the economic and social differences in our society.
If there's ever going to be any progress...
WOMAN: Dennis, there's some lovely filth down here! Oh, how'd you do?
ARTHUR: How do you do, good lady. I'm Arthur, King of the Britons.
Who's castle is that? WOMAN: King of the who? ARTHUR: The Britons.
WOMAN: Who are the Britons? ARTHUR: Well, we all are.
We are all Britons, and I am your king.
WOMAN: I didn't know we had a king.
I thought we were an autonomous collective.
DENNIS: You're fooling yourself. We're living in a dictatorship,
a self-perpetuating autocracy in which the working classes... WOMAN: Oh, there you go,
bringing class into it again. DENNIS: That's what it's all about!
DENNIS: If only people would... ARTHUR: Please! Please, good people, I am in haste!
Who lives in that castle? WOMAN: No one lives there.
ARTHUR: Then who is your lord? WOMAN: We don't have a lord.
ARTHUR: What? DENNIS: I told you.
We're an anarcho-syndicalist commune. We take it in turns to
act as a sort of executive officer for the week. ARTHUR: Yes.
DENNIS: But all the decisions of the officer have to be ratified at a special biweekly meeting...
ARTHUR: Yes, I see! DENNIS: ...by a civil majority
in the case of purely internal affairs... ARTHUR: Be quiet!
DENNIS: ...but by two-thirds majority in the case of more... ARTHUR: Be quiet!
I order you to be quiet!
WOMAN: Order, eh? Who does he think he is? ARTHUR: I am your king!
WOMAN: Well, I didn't vote for you.
ARTHUR: You don't vote for kings.
WOMAN: Well, how did you become king then?
ARTHUR: The Lady of the Lake.
Her arm clad in the purest shimmering samite,
held aloft Excalibur from the *** of the water signifying by
divine providence that I, Arthur, was to carry Excalibur.
That is why I am your king!
DENNIS: Listen. Strange women lying in ponds distributing
swords is no basis for a system of government!
Supreme executive power derives from a mandate from
the masses not from some farcical aquatic ceremony!
ARTHUR: Be quiet! DENNIS: Well, you can't expect to wield supreme executive power
just because some watery tart threw a sword at you! ARTHUR: Shut up!
DENNIS: I mean if I went around saying I was an emperor just
because some moistened bint had lobbed a scimitar at me they'd put me away!
ARTHUR: Shut up! Will you shut up!
DENNIS: Ah, now! We see the violence inherent in the system! ARTHUR: Shut up!
DENNIS: Come and see the violence inherent in the system!
Help! Help! I'm being repressed! ARTHUR: Bloody peasant! DENNIS: Oh, what a giveaway!
Did you hear that? Did you hear that, eh? That's what I'm on about!
Do you see him repressing me? You saw it, didn't you?