Spanish Inquisition - Ending

Chapman: Trouble at mill.
Cleveland: Oh no - what kind of trouble?
Chapman: One on't cross beams gone owt askew on treadle.
Cleveland: Pardon?
Chapman: One on't cross beams gone owt askew on treadle.
Cleveland: I don't understand what you're saying.
Chapman: [slightly irritatedly and with exaggeratedly clear accent] One of the cross beams has gone out askew on the treadle.
Cleveland: Well what on earth does that mean?
Chapman: *I* don't know - Mr Wentworth just told me to come in here and say that there was trouble at the mill, that's all - I didn't expect a kind of Spanish Inquisition.

[The door flies open and Cardinal Ximinez of Spain [Palin] enters, flanked by two junior cardinals. Cardinal Biggles [Jones] has goggles pushed over his forehead. Cardinal Fang [Gilliam] is just Cardinal Fang]

Ximinez: NOBODY expects the Spanish Inquisition! Our chief weapon is surprise... surprise and fear... fear and surprise... Our two weapons are fear and surprise... and ruthless efficiency... Our *three* weapons are fear, surprise, and ruthless efficiency... and an almost fanatical devotion to the Pope... Our *four*...no... *Amongst* our weapons... Amongst our weaponry... are such elements as fear, surprise... I'll come in again.

Chapman: I didn't expect a kind of Spanish Inquisition.

Ximinez: NOBODY expects the Spanish Inquisition! Amongst our weaponry are such di elements as: fear, surprise, ruthless efficiency, an almost fanatical devotion to the Pope, and nice red uniforms - Oh damn!
[To Cardinal Biggles] I can't say it - you'll have to say it.
Biggles: What?
Ximinez: You'll have to say the bit about 'Our chief weapons are ...'
Biggles: [rather horrified]: I couldn't do that...

Chapman: I didn't expect a kind of Spanish Inquisition.

Biggles: Er... Nobody... um...
Ximinez: Expects...
Biggles: Expects... Nobody expects the... um... the Spanish... um...
Ximinez: Inquisition.
Biggles: I know, I know! Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition. In fact, those who do expect -
Ximinez: Our chief weapons are...
Biggles: Our chief weapons are... um... er...
Ximinez: Surprise...
Biggles: Surprise and --
Ximinez: Okay, stop. Stop. Stop there - stop there. Stop. Phew! Ah! ... our chief weapons are surprise... blah blah blah. Cardinal, read the charges.
Fang: You are hereby charged that you did on di dates commit heresy against the Holy Church. 'My old man said follow the--'
Biggles: That's enough.
[To Cleveland] Now, how do you plead?
Clevelnd: We're innocent.
Ximinez: Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!

Biggles: We'll soon change your mind about that!

Ximinez: Fear, surprise, and a most ruthless-- [controls himself with a supreme effort] Ooooh! Now, Cardinal -- the rack!

Ximinez: You... Right! Tie her down.

Ximinez: Right! How do you plead?
Clevelnd: Innocent.
Ximinez: Ha! Right! Cardinal, give the rack [oh dear] give the rack a turn.

Biggles: I...
Ximinez: [gritting his teeth] I *know*, I know you can't. I didn't want to say anything. I just wanted to try and ignore your crass mistake.
Biggles: I...
Ximinez: It makes it all seem so stupid.
Biggles: Shall I...?
Ximinez: No, just pretend for God's sake. Ha! Ha! Ha!

Ximinez: Now, old woman -- you are accused of heresy on three counts -- heresy by thought, heresy by word, heresy by deed, and heresy by action -- *four* counts. Do you confess?
Wilde: I don't understand what I'm accused of.
Ximinez: Ha! Then we'll make you understand! Biggles! Fetch... THE CUSHIONS!

Biggles: Here they are, lord.
Ximinez: Now, old lady -- you have one last chance. Confess the heinous sin of heresy, reject the works of the ungodly -- *two* last chances. And you shall be free -- *three* last chances. You have three last chances, the nature of which I have divulged in my previous utterance.
Wilde: I don't know what you're talking about.
Ximinez: Right! If that's the way you want it -- Cardinal! Poke her with the soft cushions!

Ximinez: Confess! Confess! Confess!
Biggles: It doesn't seem to be hurting her, lord.
Ximinez: Have you got all the stuffing up one end?
Biggles: Yes, lord.
Ximinez [angrily hurling away the cushions]: Hm! She is made of harder stuff! Cardinal Fang! Fetch... THE COMFY CHAIR!

Fang [terrified]: The... Comfy Chair?

Ximinez: So you think you are strong because you can survive the soft cushions. Well, we shall see. Biggles! Put her in the Comfy Chair!

Ximinez [with a cruel leer]: Now -- you will stay in the Comfy Chair until lunch time, with only a cup of coffee at eleven. [aside, to Biggles] Is that really all it is?
Biggles: Yes, lord.
Ximinez: I see. I suppose we make it worse by shouting a lot, do we? Confess, woman. Confess! Confess! Confess! Confess
Biggles: I confess!
Ximinez: Not you!



Credits
Writer(s): Eric Idle, Terry Jones, Michael Edward Palin, Terry Gilliam, Graham Chapman, John Cleese
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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