Original subtitles

Terrible Tudors, gorgeous Georgians Slimy Stuarts, vile Victorians

Woeful wars, ferocious fights Dingy castles, daring knights

Horrors that defy description Cut-throat Celts, awful Egyptians

Vicious Vikings, cruel crimes Punishment from ancient times

Romans, rotten, rank and ruthless Cavemen, savage, fierce and toothless

Groovy Greeks, brainy sages Mean and measly Middle Ages

Gory stories, we do that And your host, a talking rat

The past is no longer a mystery Welcome to...

Horrible Histories.

Pirates terrorised the world's seas, stealing treasure.

But it wasn't always the obvious stuff that was precious.

Alright, lads. Time to open the treasure chest.

This is brilliant! First attack of the enemy ship and first treasure.

I dunno about you guys, I love being a pirate. Whoo!

- Aaar! - Aaar! - Aaar!

Let's take a look see at this here treasure.

Um,... bit of a new-boy question. Shouldn't there be treasure in there?

This piece of paper is the treasure, my lad.

'Tis a map showing all the trade routes.

Using this map, we lies in wait

for ships laden with silks from the Far East

or sugar from the Caribbean.

Then we ambushes them, kills them

and steals their precious cargo.

ALL: Aaar!

So, er, the map is the treasure?

Aaar! Priceless, it be.

I am right in saying that us pirates divide all the treasure up equally?

- Yes, that's the pirate rule. - I want my share.

ALL ARGUE

Oh, that is low, even for a pirate!

- Man over board! - Who?

Me. I've absolutely had it.

He is, er, he is under a lot of pressure.

That's right. Maps were very valuable.

In fact, we pirates stole all sorts of surprising stuff.

Welcome to The Pirate Shopping Channel.

I'm Black Bart and this 'ere be Cutlass Liz.

Today, we'll be selling all the booty we stole on the high seas.

Starting with some fine clothes.

All of our prices have been slashed.

And so have many of the clothes.

Well, we did have to kill the owners first.

And we liked some of their fine clothes so much

that we're actually wearing them now. Bootiful, aren't they?

Oh. I think your parrot may have pooped on your shoulder.

- Have I got it all? - Near enough.

And it's not just bootiful clothes.

If it's jewellery you're after, we've got wonderful rings.

Yes, we do, Bart. Together with the fingers they came on.

Obviously, we pirates are always in a bit of a hurry.

If the ring won't come off the finger easy, we chopped off the finger.

If they've got lots of rings, best chop off the whole hand.

Sorry. What was that?

I didn't ear you.

- HE LAUGHS - Nice one, Liz.

Yes, we've got earrings, too.

We've actually got something even more precious.

- We've got some sugar. - Sugar?

Freshly-stolen from an English cargo ship in the Caribbean.

Wow! That really is precious.

What have you got there, Liz?

Well, this be a five-barrel pistol.

And with that many barrels, you really have to hit something.

- How much does that retail for, Liz? - This isn't for sale.

Hands up!

- All of them! - I thought we were partners.

Well, what d'you expect? I'm still a pirate. Give me that sugar!

- And the rings and the earrings. - Take them.

D'you want my jacket, too?

Nah. It's covered in poo.

You won't be wanting the trousers either, then.

It's true. In the 1700s, sugar was worth more than gold.

I'm rich, I tell ya. I'm rich! Har-har-har!

We Incas ruled Peru for centuries until the 1500s.

And we certainly had some unusual customs.

New from Ancient Peru,

it's the brand-new album, Live Like An Inca,

from the Incan Family Players, featuring the chartbuster -

Someone's sacrificed my llama

Someone's cut it in two

Someone's sacrificed my llama

Hey, that's what Incas do.

And the unforgettable -

My beer is made from human spit

Would you like to try a bit?

Guaranteed to revive ya

Cheers! Make mine a pint of saliva

And their number-one smash -

Oh, the priest just ripped out my heart

And threw it down the pyramid steps.

With Mum on vocals, Dad on flute and Little Capach on drums.

Also featuring Grandpa as the flute. Yes, it's made out of his shinbone.

And Grandma as the drums. That's right, they're made from her skin.

No, that's true. The Incas really did use human bones for flutes

and human skin for drums.

Imagine being turned into a musical instrument.

Actually, I already am one, after a plate of baked beans!

- PARP! - Perfect pitch!

Yes. Inca families had some pretty unusual customs.

- Oh! Happy birthday! - Thanks, Mum.

Aw! You're a teenager now, so we've got you a special present.

- Ta-da! - My own llama! Wow! Thanks!

- And we also got you this. - A club.

- For fighting enemies? - Oh, no. For killing the llama.

- But I only just got it. - All boys your age have to do it.

If you want to become a man, you have to kill a llama first.

- OK. - But then I'll roast the llama for you.

I guess that's something. A nice slap-up birthday supper.

Oh, no, no, no. You don't get to eat the llama.

You have to offer it to the Sun God.

Great. I have to kill my present and then give it to someone else?

I can't believe I was looking forward to today.

Oh! Well, let's put you in your brand-new clothes.

New clothes? Sweet!

- It's a massive nappy. - What?!

Put it on.

And I'll come round here and pierce your ears for you.

- Ow! - Come on. All Incan boys need their ears pierced.

There you are. You're a proper Incan man now, son.

Well, happy birthday.

D'you know, sometimes I worry we spoil him too much.

I dunno what we're gonna get him next year.

The Egyptian Pharaohs were mummified, like me,

and buried with lots and lots of treasure.

So much treasure that many centuries later,

archaeologists flocked to Egypt to try and find their tombs.

New to based-on-reality computer games comes -

The Real Tomb Raider.

Yes. Discover Egyptian tombs as they were really discovered.

COMPUTERISED VOICE: Select your real tomb raider.

Not real. Select again.

Not real. Select again.

You have selected Lord George Edward Stanhope Molyneux Herbert,

the 5th Earl of Caernarfon.

A genuine archaeologist.

Real Tomb Raider features all the tools that were really used.

Select tool. Not real. Select again.

Not real. Select again.

You have selected a small brush.

OK, Real Tomb Raiders, we're off.

Using all your skills, guide your adventurer to scrape through sand

and... Oh, brush the dust off some disappointing bits of old pottery.

Or perhaps you'll discover a whole new tomb,

although it might take a while.

About 20 years, probably.

With no zombies, no mummies coming back to life.

In fact, no monsters at all.

The Real Tomb Raider.

Not much fun, but it's what it was really like.

Horrible. But not as horrible as the curse said to be put on his tomb.

Greetings, fear fans.

I am Vincenzo Laughoff.

And this week's scary story

is The Curse of Tutankhamun.

It was 1922, a particularly ghoulish year,

when an archaeologist named Howard Carter

discovered the tomb of Tutankhamun, the Ancient Egyptian Pharaoh.

As the dastardly digger crept inside the tomb,

he found not only the King's great treasures,

but there, in the burial chamber, trapped within a golden sarcophagus,

the Ancient Pharaoh's mummy.

THUNDERCLAP

As we all know, nothing is more frightening than Mummy.

'Go and tidy your room!'

On the wall above the dead king's body was written a curse -

'Death shalt come on swift wings

'to him who disturbs the peace of the King.'

WHOO-WHOO-WHOO!

Yes. Whoo-whoo-whoo indeed.

The curse was quick to bite.

Within a year, the man who'd paid for the dig, Lord Caernarfon,

dropped down dead!

EERIE SCREAMS

As he did, all the lights in Cairo, the Egyptian capital, went out.

That exact same moment,

back home in England, his dog howled in the moonlight.

HOWLING

The curse of Tutankhamun had struck.

But what would become of the man who first broke into the mummy's tomb?

What fate would befall Howard Carter himself?

He died... years later

of completely natural causes.

A-hem!

It turned out that Lord Caernarfon

died from an infected mosquito bite.

The lights in Cairo went out because the electrics were dodgy

and his dog howled, well, cos that's just what dogs do, innit?

It was nothing to do with the mummy.

THUNDERCLAP Oh, just stop it.

The curse was just made up by the newspapers.

Why am I here? I mean, if it's not a real ghost story, why get me?

Get John Barrowman or Ant and Dec.

I'm off. And I'm keeping the jacket.

King George III didn't die until he was 81.

So George IV had to wait an awfully long time to become King.

Oh!

Oh, George. How do you do it? How do you look so fabulous?

George, you are worth it!

Your Highness? I have some dreadful news.

Powdered wigs aren't coming back?

It's far graver news that that.

Sir, I must tell you, your father is dead.

Y-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-es! Get in!

Get in!

Sir, I think you may have misheard me.

Dad's dead, Dad's dead. Oh, gosh, I'm King!

Ah. You, you didn't.

But, Sir, shouldn't you be... upset?

Upset? I'm nearly 60 years old.

I know I don't look it. It's good of you to say it.

- I wasn't going to, but - - I've been Prince for nearly 60 years.

Nearly 60 years I've been waiting for my father to kick the bucket!

Yes, but, Sir, I have to advise you

that your subjects will expect you to be in floods of tears.

Tears? This is better than Christmas!

- George! Have you heard the news? - You bet I have!

Congratu-very-lations, Your Majesty.

My Majesty.

- Your Majesty! - My Majesty.

- Your Majesty! - Alright.

Sir, are you sure you can't squeeze out just a small tear?

Certainly not, Thick Wig!

I only cry about things that matter.

So, how do I look for my coronation?

- Spectacular! - Look at my calves!

Very muscular. Very manly!

I'll tell you a secret. It's padding.

Padding? Ah! Well, that explains the seat of your trouser.

What?

Well, between yousies and mesies,

there might be a tad too much pad on the old derriere.

Padding?

There's no padding there!

He thinks I'm fat! He thinks I'm fat!

You know what might help? What about if you wore a corset?

I am wearing a corset!

Well, at least he's crying now.

Oh! Oh, the poor Prince!

I'm not a prince, I'm a king now! Now, get out!

- He's a king! - Out!

Oh! I'm fat!

I need a chocolate.

Did you know, George IV was so overweight,

his nickname was the Prince of Whales.

That's a bit unfair, isn't it, eh?

On whales! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!

And he really did have to wait nearly 60 years to become King.

SOMBRE INSTRUMENTAL

I'm George IV, the Regent King

Which means I was just standing in

Acting King because my dad

- George III had gone barking mad - Banana!

Great palaces, I did design

Buckingham was one of mine

Art and fashion, I so rated

- And wives? - That's more complicated

Actresses and duchesses

The great loves of my life

I loved more girls than I ate pies

And I couldn't stand my wife

- He couldn't stand his wife - Go away!

I only married Queen Caroline

When my debts began to climb

Cos if I agreed to tie the knot

I said I'd pay off the lot

But the wedding caused all sorts of strife

Cos I already had a wife

- A divorced Catholic? - Dad did sigh

But the mad old goat just wouldn't die

- Still here. Oop! Spoke too soon. - At last, I can go solo!

As true King, my reign began

Though I was now older than your nan

And as the ruler of our nation

I banned my wife from my coronation

And knowing now that I did hate her

She promptly died just three weeks later

But all those pies that I'd got through

Meant 10 years later, I died, too

Hello. Have we met? I'm a kangaroo.

Actresses, duchesses the great loves of my life

I loved more girls than I ate pies

But I couldn't stand my wife

I had just 10 years on the throne

Do you remember that?

No, all that you remember is

I was really fat.

Hello, and welcome to the News At When.

When? The Middle Ages.

A time when the Christian people of Europe

decided to go to war with the Islamic people in the Middle East

just because they didn't believe in the same things.

Hard to imagine, I know.

So, here with more details is Bob Hale, with the Crusades Report.

Thank you, Sam. I'm Bob Hale and I'm on a bit of a crusade

to tell you all about The Crusades,

a series of extremely violent religious wars

that started nearly 1,000 years ago.

Yes, the year is 1095, that right there is Palestine, the Holy Land,

and here comes the Pope!

There he is. He's called Pope Urban because he's quite street. Sick!

Not really. He doesn't like what he sees, which is lots of Muslim people

which isn't surprising, since they live there and it's their Holy Land.

But this Pope doesn't like to share.

He decided the Holy Land should be reclaimed for Christians.

How does he plan to do this? Simple.

Any Christian who fights for the Holy Land will get into heaven,

which Christians liked the sound of.

And so began the first crusade.

Heaven-hungry Christians will pop to the Holy Land,

take over and that will be the end of that.

But crusading is a tricky business, and that's just the journey.

Because many ships back then had a design problem. Mainly that one.

If you didn't sink, you had to cope with diseases, storms, sickness,

sea monsters, except not sea monsters,

all before you got to do any actual fighting.

That was if you could afford to go by boat.

Many were poor peasants who had to walk to the Holy Land.

Yes, they walked, which takes longer than going to the shops,

even if you go to the big shops and not the little one on the corner.

The first crusade took so long, with the walking, sinking and fighting,

that the Christians ran out of supplies

and had to eat some really disgusting things,

like blood, wee, turkey twizzlers and dead bodies.

Not turkey twizzlers. They never got that desperate.

Ha-ha! Little joke there.

Despite this, the Christians took over huge chunks of the Holy Land,

including the great city of Jerusalem. All in four years!

Job done, crusade over, Christians win,

so long, farewell, Auf Wiedersehen, goodbye. Right?

Wrong! The Muslims weren't about to take all this lying down.

They fight back, conquering the city of Odessa.

What did the Pope do? Yep, you've guessed it. Another crusade!

In 1147, the Christians rush back over to the Holy Land and lose.

They get the pants thrashed off of them.

After spending 40 years or so mulling over what to do next,

the Christians come up with a new plan.

A crusade! Yep, another one, and it's a biggie.

1187. Richard the Lionheart, who's actually got a lion's heart.

That's not true, but he is King of England.

He starts a war with Saladin.

So that's a war with tomatoes, lettuce, cucumber...

His name's Saladin and he's a Muslim leader

who's been building an empire in the Middle East.

King Richard and many Christians rush over to the Holy Land

and a big old fight breaks out.

Nothing to do with the Muslims. The Crusaders fight amongst themselves.

Half of them call it a day and go home,

leaving poor old Dickie Boy on his lonesome.

Lucky for him, Saladin is a nice chap and agrees to a peace treaty.

Peace is upon us, no more wars, no more crusades,

just flowers, love, holding hands and that is that.

No doubt, no diggidy and no questions asked.

Or so we thought! But in 1202, another Pope named Pope Innocent

comes up with a bold new initiative.

Yep, you've guessed it. It's a crusade!

So we have the fourth crusade that achieves nothing.

Followed by the fifth crusade that achieves nothing.

Followed by the sixth crusade that achieves nothing. Followed by...

We apologise for the technical hitch we appear to have with Bob today.

We are working to resolve the problem,

but in the meantime, we hope you enjoy this.

When off on a long crusade,

a knight would often take an old woman with him.

Or, as they used to call them, an old crone.

Hi. I'm a crusader.

Sworn to win back Jerusalem from the Saracen Muslims.

Slaughtering them in the name of Christianity.

It's hard, dirty work.

That's why when I go on a crusade, I always bring along an Old Crone.

She might just be an ugly old woman I kidnapped from my village,

but Old Crone can wash out even the toughest of stains.

We compared enslaving an Old Crone to not bothering to wash.

And just look at the difference!

Take Old Crone along with you on your crusade

and she'll comb those nits out of your hair.

She'll even wash it, too.

Now, if a Saracen cuts my head off, I know it'll look lovely.

Aaaaargh!

And that's not all.

Old Crone will even find food and cook it for you.

And when there's a food shortage,

Old Crone really comes into her own.

I found some grains of wheat in animal droppings

and the meat is the finest cut of enemy dead.

The backside.

Old Crone. You'll wonder how you survived on a crusade without one.

Warning: Old Crone is very old and may not survive the journey.

Between 1607 and 1865,

slavery was legal in America.

One slave who escaped and went on to free other slaves

was known as Agent Moses.

But Agent Moses wasn't quite what you might expect.

- CRACK! - Ssh!

- Ssh! - Ssh!

- Ssh! - Ssh!

Well, I think this is the spot.

- Yeah. So, what do we do now? - We wait.

Accordin' to the message, Agent Moses will meet us here,

break us out of the plantation and arrange safe passage to Canada.

Wow! Just think, in a few days, we won't be slaves any more.

- We'll be free men. - Yeah.

Agent Moses has already freed over 60 slaves. He must be quite a guy.

- I can't wait to meet him. - So, you boys got my message?

- BOTH: Ssh! - We're waitin' for Agent Moses.

A-hem! Agent Moses is here.

Oh, brilliant. Where?

Here. I'm Agent Moses.

- You're Agent Moses? - You look like my mama.

Well, we just expected you to be a dashing young man.

That's what they expect. Especially the slave owners tryin' to catch me.

Oh. So that's why you're so good at this!

Yep. I'm the last person they'd expect to be freein' slaves.

Besides, I got myself a few disguises in case of emergency.

Lemme guess. Big false beard.

Nah-nah-nah-nah. Glasses and a wig. Always glasses and a wig.

No. Even better. A newspaper.

- BOTH: A newspaper? - You gotta be kiddin' me.

Hey, who's there? Who goes there?

Stop, slave! What...?

Oh-ho-ho-ho! My apologies, ma'am.

I thought you might be a slave,

- but you're clearly an educated woman readin' a newspaper. - Indeed.

- Well, good evenin', ma'am. - You, too.

Wow! That's amazin'!

That's nothin'. Wait til you see my ultimate disguise.

Lady carryin' a chicken.

- BOTH: Lady carryin' a chicken? - Now, you gotta be havin' us on!

Hey! What in the...? Who's there? What's all that noise? Stop, slave!

Oh-ho-ho-ho! My mistake. It's just a lady carryin' a chicken.

Now, look at that funny little chicken! IMITATES CHICKEN

HE LAUGHS Oh, I love a chicken!

Well, evenin', ma'am.

Oh, that crazy chicken!

Well, that was amazin'!

He was so distracted by your chicken, he didn't even notice you!

Lady, either you very, very clever

or these slave owners are very, very stupid.

A little bit of both, boys. A little bit of both.

Grandma Moses' real name was Harriet Tubman.

In the American Civil War, she commanded an armed military raid

freeing over 700 slaves.

Making her the first woman in American history

to lead soldiers into battle.

The rat knows all.

HE WHISTLES

- Yes? - Hello, sir. I'm a Roman poo seller. Would you like to buy some?

No, thanks. I make my own.

- I said no. - Yes, sir.

I clean the communal toilets in the city,

so the poo I collect is of a very high quality.

Your poo, I think it's fair to say, is just peasant poo,

made up of cabbages and turnips.

Some of this is from the bottoms of Roman senators.

They have a very rich diet, full of fruit and meat.

Think of the nutrients.

I do have trouble making enough for the whole field.

It's worth its weight in gold, sir. Your crops will flourish.

- Alright. I'll take some to try. - Lovely.

You will not regret it. This is the best decision you've ever made.

Look at that. Handsome! See ya.

Should've asked for a bag.

That's right. Roman toilet cleaners used to sell poo to farmers.

And there was plenty of it, I can tell you.

Because rich Romans loved to stuff themselves silly at dinner parties.

Ave, viewer. I'm a very posh Roman.

And if you want to fit into polite Roman society,

there's a few simple rules you need to learn first.

Here's how to behave at a Roman dinner party.

Eating with cutlery. How rude!

A good Roman will always eat with his fingers.

Oh, yes. That's far more polite.

- BURP! - 'Scuse me.

Oh, yes. Very good.

Burping shows your host that you have enjoyed your meal.

BURP!

Where are you going? A Roman would never leave the table to have a wee.

You'd get a slave to bring the pot to you.

But what if I can't go when everyone's watching?

Um,... try thinking about an aqueduct or a fountain or something.

No, I can't eat any more. I'm too full.

A good Roman is never full.

Tickle the back of your throat with a feather until you are sick,

and then repeat.

RETCHES

And now you know how to behave in polite Roman society.

The very height of civilisation.

- RETCHES - Sorry.

Well done. That's my feet, but well done.

Tall tales, atrocious acts We gave you all the fearsome facts

Want to travel through the time sewers with me?

Then play Horrible Histories' Terrible Treasures.

Go to the CBBC website and click on Horrible Histories.

Hope you enjoyed Horrible Histories.

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd

Repair and Synchronization by Easy Subtitles Synchronizer 1.0.0.0