Englishman Who Went Up a Hill But Came Down a Mountain

Johnny Shellshocked:
In France, we dug trenches ten miles long. We took earth from here and made hills there. We moved entire fields. You wouldn't believe what we did. It's possible. It's just hard work.

Thomas Twp Too:
This is my brother, Thomas Twp, and I am Thomas Twp Too.

Thomas Twp:
We've no learning, and most people say we're twp. But we're not so twp as to not know that we're twp.

Reginald Anson:
They're pretty.

Betty:
Mmm, yes. Not as pretty as me. ...YOU'RE supposed to say that.

Davies the School:
980 feet.

Morgan the Goat:
Objection substained

Morgan the Goat:
! I'm not taking any bets under a thousand feet... traitor!

Reginald Anson:
Well, i-i-it will be measured again! I mean, uh, perhaps we'll even come back through here on our return, and...

Betty:
You won't be back. This isn't a place that people like you come back to.

Reginald Anson:
Well, I'll try, I'll, I'll really try...

Betty:
I'll try! Is that the best you can do?

Betty:
There's nothing very special about me. I'm the kind of girl you usually don't notice: I scuttle in with a tray of tea, bow my head, and scuttle out.

Reginald Anson:
I'd notice.

Betty:
No, you wouldn't. Not usually.

Reginald Anson:
Pleasant enough sort of place, isn't it?

George Garrad:
I suppose so, considering it's Wales.

Reginald Anson:
Um, I'm not sure that I can rely on Mr. Garrad. But, um, the thing is, I-I will need an assistant. I, uh-- you wouldn't, um?

Betty:
Me?

Reginald Anson:
Well, why not?

Betty:
Well... I've never been to Abyssinia!

Reginald Anson:
Heh.

Betty:
Or Aden, or Sevastopol. And I can't speak with a posh accent for long.

Reginald Anson:
Well, I-I-I-I think we can get over that.

Betty:
I'm just a maidservant!

Reginald Anson:
Well, I-I don't think the word just could apply to you about anything.

Betty:
Was that a compliment?

Reginald Anson:
Yes. Yes. Now, n-now I'm going to blush, so, um, would you help me... please?

Betty:
Since you said please. And you're blushing!

Reginald Anson:
Ohh.

Betty:
Yes, I will.

Reginald Anson:
Good. Then, um, prepare the engineer's transit.

Betty:
What?

Reginald Anson:
I'll show you.

Rev. Robert Jones:
Have you no shame?

Morgan the Goat:
No... I can't think where I've left it!

Rev. Robert Jones:
My text for today comes from Psalm 99, Verse 9: Exalt the Lord our God, and worship at his... holy... hill.

George Garrad:
Can't be too careful in foreign climes.

Reginald Anson:
It's only Wales.

George Garrad:
It's still foreign!

Morgan the Goat:
I don't want Ffynnon Garw to be on the map because we begged for it, because we, we-we pleaded. No. If Ffynnon Garw has to be a thousand feet, then I say let it be a thousand feet! Put 20 feet, that's all we need, a 20-foot tump and we have our mountain!

Jones the JP:
I'm not sure how legal that is...

Rev. Robert Jones:
Yes, or ethical...

Morgan the Goat:
Legal? Ethical? Wh-- how legal was it to say that a thousand feet is a mountain and 984 isn't, uh? Uh? Do we call a short man a boy, or a small dog a cat? No! This is a mountain, our mountain, and if it needs to be a thousand feet, then by God let's make it a thousand feet!

Grandfather:
All this fuss over what? Is it a hill, is it a mountain? Perhaps it wouldn't matter anywhere else, but this is Wales. The Egyptians built pyramids, the Greeks built temples, but we did none of that, because we had mountains. Yes, the Welsh were created by mountains: where the mountain starts, there starts Wales. If this isn't a mountain-- well, if this isn't a mountain, then Anson might just as well redraw the border and put us all in England, God forbid.

Johnny Shellshocked:
Stop actin' so English!

Betty:
All this for just a map?!

Morgan the Goat:
Just a map! Maps, my dear, are the undergarments of a country!

Reginald Anson:
Look, sorry, could I PLEASE get a pint of bitter?

Morgan the Goat:
No need to get all English about it.

Reginald Anson:
We're cartographers. Mapmakers.

Sgt. Thomas:
Ho! Very useful, I'm sure.