Blackadder

[Percy is surrounded by chemical apparatus. On the table in front of him is a green blob]

Percy:
My Lord! Success! After literally an hour's ceaseless searching, I have succeeded in creating gold! Pure gold! Behold!

Blackadder:
Percy, it's green.

Percy:
That's right, my Lord.

Blackadder:
Yes Percy, I don't want to be pedantic or anything but the colour of gold is gold. That's why it's called "gold". What you have discovered, if it has a name, is some "green".

Percy:
[astonished, picking up the blob] Oh Edmund! Can it be true? That I hold here, in my mortal hand, a nugget of purest green?

Blackadder:
Indeed you do, Percy. Except it's not really a nugget, is it? It's more of a splat.

Percy:
Well, yes, a splat today, but tomorrow - who knows, or dares to dream?

Blackadder:
[dryly] So, we three alone in all the world can create the finest green at will?

Percy:
Just so! Not sure about counting in Baldrick, actually.

Blackadder:
Of course, you know what your great discovery means, don't you, Percy?

Percy:
Perhaps, my lord...

Blackadder:
That, you Percy, Lord Percy, are an utter berk!

[Percy smiles and clenches his fist in the air]

Blackadder:
Baldrick!

Baldrick:
My lord?

Blackadder:
Pack my bags, I'm going to sell the house.

Percy and Baldrick:
What?!

Blackadder:
There's nothing else for it. I mean I shall miss the old place, I know. I've had some happy times here, when you and Percy have been out. But needs must when the devil vomits into your kettle. Baldrick, go forth into the streets and let it be known that Lord Blackadder wishes to sell his house. Percy, just go forth into the streets.