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Quotes from every episode of Ye Olde Dogges Wend their Way unto Heaven: Ye Olde Cycle.

"Yea Verily"Edit

  • Sir Charles of Orleans: (Nervous and quickly answered to Queen Annabelle.) Verily, I slept overmuch. Queen Annabelle: (Sniffing the lies of Sir Charles.) [to Sir Charlie of Orleans] Liar, thy trousers art ablaze! (Thunder and lighting bolts strike truly upon Sir Charles's buttocks and he leaps in agony.) Sir Charles: Gadzooks!!
  • Lord Itchiford: Zounds! Thou art wracked! SIR CHARLES!!!
  • Queen Annabelle: Now, an thou wouldst fain tarry on Earth, thou needst do a good deed. A right good deed. Until thou dost, I place thee on probation.
  • Mistress Sasha: Release me from thy grasp! (She is thrown out of the Flea Bite.) A gentleman would never work scath upon a lady such as I.
    Horseface: By whose word art thou a lady?
    Nelson the Killer: And by whose word be he a gentleman? (Horseface hits him.) Zounds!
    Horseface: Cease thy prattling, knave!
    Sir Charles: Mistress Sasha! What deeds hath here been wrought?
    Mistress Sasha: Horseface did come and suggest means by which my tavern might be changed to suit him.
    Sir Charles: And what doth suit him?
    Mistress Sasha: My banishment doth suit him! He hath stolen my land, Sir Charles of Orleans!
    Sir Charles: The villain! Would that I had been there!
    Mistress Sasha: Where wert thou?
    Sir Charles: The menagerie was alight, and 'twas my duty to soothe the king's rare fowls!
    (Because this was a lie, and lying is a wickedness, a lightning bolt strikes Sir Charles and the pain inspires him to leap back to a cracked mirror.)
    Queen Annabelle: Sir Charles of Orleans. (Sir Charles looks back at the mirror where Queen Annabelle then appears.) Thou art on probation. Thou canst not do, think, nor say any wickedness. I make not an exception for falsehood. Fare thee well.
    (She vanishes.)
    Sir Charles: A thousand pardons. In sooth... I was feasting on beef and cheese, and it became known to me that Nelson the Killer was indeed the-- Gadzooks! Horseface! The rogue... 'Twas his plan to make trouble for us with design to foil our intervention. Let us pursue this matter, Itchikin.
  • Nelson the Killer: Thou were ever a fool for a comely wench, my liege. (Horseface boxes his ears.) Zounds!
    Horseface: 'Tis not a lackey's place to name me "fool."
  • Queen Annabelle: Sir Charles of Orleans.
    Sir Charles: Oho. My Queen. Wherefore thou dost employ unknightly guile upon me?
    Annabelle: Hail to thee. 'Tis verily an odd sort of "good deed," but thou art free of thy probation, my vassal. For now, mayhap. Verily.
    (She kisses his signet ring, but before he can look, her image is replaced by his reflection.)

​"The Queen Abroad"Edit

  • Annabelle: Theodore the Huntsman, thy deeds be right honorless.
    Theodore the Huntsman: Who art thou, and dost thou not keep to thine own affairs? (pause) But soft!
    Sir Charles: Oho, in my sight this be indeed our affairs. Wouldst thou not agree, Theodore?

"Lancelot the Wondrous"Edit

"The Good Shepherd"Edit

  • Sir Charles: Ho there, comely one. Desirest thou to ride with me?
    Mistress Sasha: Oh, blessings upon thee, Sir Charles. (More happily to see Lord Itchiford who is currently pulling a handcart with Sir Charles of Orleans sitting on it.) Ho there, Lord Itchiford.
    Lord Itchiford: (mirthful) Ho there, Mistress Sasha.
    Sir Charles: So, what sayest thou? The twain o' us? A courtly ride through the pastures? Perchance?
    Mistress Sasha: (sighs instantly) Sir Charles, We are no twain. I seek a man of chivalry.
    Sir Charles: A knight such as I cleaves steadfast to the Code.
    Mistress Sasha: And yet thou dost use thy friend and peer as a beast of burden as thou speakest those empty words.
    Sir Charles: Oho, Lord Itchiford cares not. Say 'tis so, old comrade in arms. (Notices that Lord Itchiford is heading to places most perilous, but he can do little.) ho, Itchikin! Would it not be wise to slow thine horse?
    (He can not, and they speed down.)
    Mistress Sasha: Enough. May we meet again, lads.
    Sir Charles: Ho, Itchiford? Itchiford!
    Lord Itchiford: Sir Charles! I have not the strength to stay my horse!
    (They scream and crash into a watchtower.)
  • Queen Annabelle: Fair fortune. Bonne chance.
  • Sir Charles: As thou wishest, Lord Itchiford, I confess my crime. An Mistress Sasha were not among us, I should shun this accursed child!
    Mistress Sasha: Sir Charles of Orleans! Thou art surely the most unknightly, scheming, cruel whoreson to e'er blight my days!
    Sir Charles: Stay! Fly not! Hear thee my words.
    Mistress Sasha: Ill using a mere babe for the sake of a maid's adoration? Hear the my words, varlet. I shall never be thine!
    Sir Charles: Alack! But I... I... I...
    Mistress Sasha: 'Twould seem thou wert never a babe, methinks. Wert thou never helpless? Never frightened and alone?
    Sir Charles: Ah, mine eyes do open.
    Mistress Sasha: (wroth) Sleep well, Sir Charles of Orleans!
    Sir Charles: Stay thy flight! Sasha. Thou speakest soothly! I Have truly been a villain! I am... (Sir Charles trips over a farmer's wagon) I am ashamed.
    Lord Itchiford: Art thou well, Sir Charles?
    Sir Charles: Never shall I be well until we find the babe.

"An Itch in Arabia"Edit

Tanborman al-Gebra: [to David] I believe not thy words. Study the Prophet's teachings for two hours, Frankish youth.

Lord Itchiford: (whispers) 'Tis a school, Sir Charles! It is in some ways to my liking.

Sir Charles: (Refering to Tanborman as he prowls the halls) What business has yon tyrant in halls of learning?

Tanborman al-Gebra: (Sighting Sir Charles & Lord Itchiford in the shadows) Fly! Hie! Filthy infidels belong not in these halls!

Sir Charles: (panting and running angered) What right has that Saracen to name us filthy?!

Tanborman al-Gebra: Art thou hiding from some villain... [Sir Charles and Lord Itchiford gasp as a clamor arises]...stranger?

"Knights Ado about Nothing"Edit

  • Queen Annabelle: You twain have a wondrous friendship, yet strain hath been placed upon it. An thou dost nought to revive thy kinship, I shall work this deed.
  • Queen Annabelle: An ye break all bonds in strife, each shalt live the other's life.
    Sir Charles: I like this not!
    Queen Annabelle: 'Tis thy burden to bear. Until you feel again love for each other, this be your lot.

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