Original subtitles

# Terrible Tudors, Gorgeous Georgians

# Slimy Stuarts, Vile Victorians

# Woeful wars, Ferocious fights

# Dingy castles, Daring knights

# Horrors that defy description, Cutthroat Celts, awful Egyptians

# Vicious Vikings cruel crimes Punishments from ancient times

# Roman, 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 #

MAN READING TITLE

Everyone knew about the pyramids we built to house our dead pharaohs

because you could see them from miles around.

But some of our later designs were a little bit more...well, secret.

Okay, okay,

and open your eyes.

Ta-da!

Where's the tomb I ordered you to build for me? You are looking at your own brand new,

state-of-the-art, cutting-edge burial tomb.

-No, I'm not. -Yes, you are.

You just can't see it.

-You're fired. -Mm?

No, no, no, no, no, no, no.

Look, it is there,

it's just under the ground.

Under the ground?

What good does that do me? I'm a pharaoh!

I'm an Egyptian God walking the earth.

When I pass over into the afterlife,

I want to be buried in a majestic golden pyramid 150 metres high.

No, you don't.

No, no, no! Think about it.

Your dad, they stuck him in a massive golden pyramid

that all the grave robbers could see for miles around

and, of course, they all came down and robbed his gold.

And what do you think it was like for your poor dad,

arriving there in the afterlife with no royal treasure?

-Embarrassing. -What?

-It was embarrassing. -Very embarrassing.

Whereas with this design, they won't even be able to find your tomb.

The whole thing is buried under the desert.

Okay, well, it's not what I was expecting,

but I asked you to build me a great royal tomb

and I suppose you built me a great royal tomb, so...

Absolutely!

Right. Well, thanks.

Oh, and here's your bonus.

Um, there's nothing there?

Oh, there is.

You just can't see it.

Laters.

Pharaoh Tutankhamen was buried in an underground tomb just like that one,

which wasn't found for more than 3,000 years,

making Tutankhamen the undisputed world hide-and-seek champion. Ha, ha!

And it wasn't just the pharaoh's burial tomb that was important,

but what went in it.

And so I die.

Thank you, my wonderful slaves, for taking care of my every need.

Mighty Pharaoh, it has been our privilege to serve,

and we shall all miss you as you take your journey to the afterlife.

What? No, you won't. You're coming with me.

Guards! Sacrifice my slaves and bury them in here with me.

You're killing us all after everything we've done for you?

Who else is gonna take care of all my things in the afterlife? Guards!

But it's so unfair! There must be some other way. There is! I'm a shouty man.

Are you an Egyptian pharaoh on your death bed?

Are you starting to think that sacrificing real people might just be a little bit unfair?

Then try new Egyptian Ushabti dolls,

the slaves you can have buried with you without having to killing anyone first.

-That sounds excellent. -What, little dolls?

That's right! These beautiful handcrafted figurines

will magically turn into actual servants to look after your every need in the afterlife.

And there's hundreds of different ones to collect.

SHOUTY MAN READING

PHARAOH: These look my size.

To wipe your majestic bum.

How does this work?

My, that's first class.

READING

MAN READING

MAN READING TITLE

Did you know George I, King of England, actually came from Germany?

And that made things a little tricky for him.

The Right Honourable Member of Parliament, Mr Robert Walpole.

Your Majesty, I bring grave news, I'm afraid.

The company we set up to profit from slave trading in South America

has, it seems, it's been promising rather more than it can deliver.

Without firm action, this crisis could well spell the end for both of us.

Er, was ist das?

Ah!

Your English seems to have got worse again, Your Majesty.

Er, was?

Have you been back over to Germany again?

Ja, ja. Ich leibe Deutschland, ja.

Yes, I know you love Germany.

Some would say for an English king you spend rather too much time there.

-Was? -Er, nothing.

We have a bit of a crisis.

Ja, ja?

I'd like to help solve the crisis,

but I don't have enough power.

Ja, ja?

Do you understand me

or are you just repeating the word "yes" in German?

Ja, ja.

Your Majesty, you cannot make this problem just go away

simply by repeating "yes", after everything I...say.

Now I think about it...

Would you like me to solve the crisis for you?

Ja!

And would you be willing to make me First Lord of the Treasury

and Chancellor of the Exchequer?

Basically, making me in charge of the entire country

a sort of "Prime Minister"?

Was?

-No, the other word. -Ja?

That's the one!

Well, thank you very much,

If you wouldn't mind just signing there, make it all official.

Wonderful! Well, that's that then.

Ooh! Um,

while I think about it, would it be okay for the country

to buy me a nice big house, you know, as "Prime Minister"?

No...problem.

Oh, did you understand that?

Or are you just saying some English words you remembered?

No problem?

Yep, thought as much.

Auf wiedersehen.

That's right, Walpole got Houghton Hall thanks to George I.

But in 1732, George II gave him a new London residence.

Number 10 Downing Street.

So whenever the Prime Minister of Britain walks into Number 10,

he has George II to thank.

Oh, by the way, did you know where George II died? Mm?

On the toilet.

Well, only appropriate, I guess. He was a number two. Ha, ha, ha!

-BAGPIPES PLAYING -Hello and welcome to HHTV Sport,

bringing you historical sports direct from the past.

Today, it's over to Scotland for some unusual Highland games.

To find out more, I'll hand you over to our commentary team live in the 1820s.

Well, today's programme features

a number of traditional Highland game pursuits.

There's the running race,

the lifting a heavy stone competition and throwing a hammer,

preferably in the direction of the bagpipe player.

WHOOSH

-MAN SCREAMS -Oops.

Feel a bit bad about saying that now.

Anyhow, there's one particular event that caught my attention

and I have the winner here with me now. Jamie, congratulations.

Thanks, Andrea.

So, you won for the bizarrely-named "twisting the cow" competition.

Can you tell us exactly what that involves?

Well, Andrea, it involves twisting the four legs off a cow.

A, a dead cow?

Aye, a dead cow. We're not animals!

And can you tell us exactly how you made it through to today's final?

Well, I put in a lot of hard work,

but mostly I did it on the hoof!

Ah, ha, ha, ha! On the hoof! Ha!

I imagine twisting the leg of a cow is pretty difficult.

Do you get many injuries?

Aye, well I did tear a calf muscle during my warm-up.

But I've never been injured myself!

And what was your prize for winning?

Er, a fattened sheep.

Great! And are you confident about winning next year's competition?

Aye, I'm quite bullish about it.

Good luck with that. Back to the studio.

-Want some? -No, that's all right. I'm vegan.

Okay, fair enough.

MAN READING TITLE

Hello and welcome to Horrible Points Of View.

We've just been going through the vaults at the BBC

and have dug out this bag of letters from the Stuart era.

A number of them concern a recent performance

of Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet.

What's the problem, guys?

MAN READING

It may sound strange, but up until the reign of King Charles II,

all female roles in theatre were played by men.

And not everyone was happy when this changed.

I can't believe I've been training for over a year

to play the part of Juliet and then they give it to a woman.

I mean, a woman dressed as a woman on the stage!

It just doesn't seem right.

Well, we took the complaints right to the very top

and found out what King Charles II had to say on the matter.

Marvellous! Splendid! Wonderful!

What was the question again?

So next time you're watching Hannah Montana,

be thankful you're not in the Stuart era,

or she'd be played by a bloke. Good night.

Those English actors thought they had it bad in the Stuart era.

What about this French star of the stage?

He had a particularly unpleasant final performance, I can tell you.

# Stupid deaths, stupid deaths # They're funny 'cause they're true

# Whoo! Stupid deaths, stupid deaths, Hope next time it's not you, hee-hee! #

And I've hated foreigners ever since.

Mm, especially the French. Next!

-Name. -Moliere.

French actor and playwright.

It's not my day, is it?

And what sort of plays do you do?

I was a master of comedy.

Oh, this should be funny then. Well, come on, then.

Renversez les haricots.

That's "spill the beans", but you probably already know that.

Anyway, I was performing my most recent play, The Hypochondriac.

The hyper-whaty-act?

The Hypochondriac, it is someone who is convinced they are always ill

when they are, er... Mon dieu, how you say? Not ill.

Oh, well, we all know someone like that. Fit as a fiddle, really!

Sorry, continue.

I was in the middle of a quite masterful performance

in The Hypochondriac,

when I fell to the floor in a violent coughing fit.

Oh. All part of the play, of course.

Well, pas, pas, pas. The audience thought so as well.

But no, this was a real violent coughing fit.

So real in fact, that...

Yes? That I died.

You...

The Hypochondriac really was unwell.

Did anyone in the audience die laughing?

'Cause I think I might! Oh, go on. Au revoir!

HE LAUGHS

Oh, seriously, I might die laughing.

Oh no, I'm dead already, aren't I?

Oh, I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine.

Next!

# Stupid deaths, stupid deaths Hope next time it's not you, hoo-hoo #

HE LAUGHS

The superstition that green brings bad luck to actors

is said to originate from the colour of clothing

Moliere was wearing at the time of his death.

The rat knows all!

MAN READING TITLE

ANNOUNCER: Welcome to Historical Wife Swap,

This is Mr Viking and his wife from Norway.

HE GROWLS

-Don't growl, dear. -Sorry love, sorry.

ANNOUNCER: And this week, they'll be doing a wife swap with the Thralls,

a family of slaves who live at the bottom of their garden.

But how will these two very different classes of Norwegians get along?

Mrs Viking has left her house and husband behind

and is about to meet Mr Thrall.

-You there. -Ah!

-SHE SCREAMS -Oh, don't be alarmed. I'm just very ugly.

I'm Mr Thrall. Um, you looking forward to being a Thrall for the week?

Am I heck!

Come on, it'll be fun.

I mean, normally to be a Thrall, you have to be born a Thrall.

I'm an uneducated slave, so was my father

and my grandfather before him.

My kids'll be slaves too. Won't you, Blobnose?

-Yeah. -SHE SCREAMS

Chip off the old block, eh?

Oh, what a horrible-looking boy!

It's a girl.

ANNOUNCER: Things aren't going any better at Mr Viking's house.

Hello, I'm Mr Viking.

Pleased to meet you. Actually, I'm not going to.

So what's your name?

Sorry, I forgot, you slaves need permission to speak, don't you?

Well, for the rest of this week, permission granted.

You're going to live like my wife now and she talks whenever she likes.

And, boy, do I know it.

ANNOUNCER: Meanwhile, Mrs Viking is getting her hands dirty

as she helps Mr Thrall with his daily chores.

Right, that must be enough. How long have I been digging for now?

-About three minutes. -Three?

I haven't worked this hard since...

Well, ever.

I've been working this hard since the age was five.

And it's not just mending fences and digging for peat,

it's building walls, herding animals, grinding corn

and spreading pig muck.

SHE SCREAMS

ANNOUNCER: It's dinner time at the Viking house.

Do I have to wear this all the time? No, just while I'm eating.

Finished. Oh.

Um, so how did you and Mrs Viking meet?

-Snoradottir. -Pardon?

It's not Mrs Viking, it's Mrs Snoradottir.

Viking women don't take their husband's names.

Oh, right.

I was 15, she was 15. She was going through a very messy divorce.

-You what? -Yeah,

she dumped her first husband because he showed too much bare chest

and then my family paid her to marry me.

This Mrs Snottyflopper sounds awful. She gets paid to get married,

she can get divorced when she likes for the silliest of reasons

and she makes us Thralls do all the work for her.

I tell you, I would like to give her a piece of my mind.

Providing she gave me permission to speak, of course.

Being a Thrall is really hard work.

Apparently Mr Thrall and his wife have to do this stuff every day for free,

just because they're ordered to

by some bossy, horrible old Viking hag with no manners.

Hang on, he means me!

ANNOUNCER: It's time for the Vikings and Thralls to sit down

and see what they've learned over the last week.

And if I'm honest, sir, I find your wife snobbish, arrogant and lazy.

-But I must say, she is quite a looker. -What?

Well, your wife is fantastic at housework.

She's a great cook. I mean, admittedly, she does look a bit like rotting meat,

but then at least she doesn't tell you what to do all the time.

Tell you what to do?

I only take charge because you're always away killing monks

or burning down villages!

I mean, when was the last time you were around to dig up some peat

or put up a fence, hm?

We don't need to dig up peat or put up a fence.

Because we have Thralls for that, don't we?

Well, I don't need to cook or clean.

Because we have Thralls to do that too.

MR VIKING: Yes, good.

So basically what you're saying is

things are pretty good as they are, when you think about it.

Not for us they're not.

Permission to speak terminated.

Yeah, I agree. Back to the bottom of the garden, you two.

Do you know what?

I forgot how ugly you are.

Oh, you say the loveliest things!

Come on.

And it's from Viking Thralls that we get the expression

"being in thrall to someone", meaning "being under their control".

Like Marcus, my pet flea, is in thrall to me.

He does everything I tell him.

-HE BREAKS WIND -Marcus, stop that.

-HE BREAKS WIND -Marcus, I'll have a bath, I will.

WOMAN READING

The answer is...

B, Vikings had natural steam baths by pouring water over hot stones.

...to really freshen up.

MAN READING TITLE

Hello and welcome to the News At When.

When? The 1400s when the people of Europe finally discovered America,

which, for a big place, was very difficult to find

and even more difficult to settle in.

Here with more details is Bob Hale with the American report. Bob?

Thank you, Sam. Well, the year is 1492

and that right there is not quite America.

It's what the Native Americans call Turtle Island or Anowarkowa

or Ina Maka or, better still, just home.

And they can call it what they like cos they're the only people there

thanks to this big blue thing, the Atlantic Ocean,

which has stopped them being bothered by anyone for, oh, about 500 years.

But all that's about to change.

Because here comes Italian explorer Christopher Columbus.

The man who discovered America, right? Wrong!

In fact, he only discovered these little islands down here

which he thought was India.

So, he's only wrong by about 8,000 miles and that's why these islands

are known as the West Indies, an interesting fact that can be found

in Bob's Big Book Of Interesting Facts, available now, just £12.99.

Next up then, it's another Italian, John Cabot, who in 1497

also managed to not quite discover America,

landing instead, up there in Newfoundland, which is also just an island.

Followed in 1516 by the Spanish, who land here in Florida,

which isn't an island but they think it is, so no points there either.

It's going well, isn't it? But who's this? Oh, no!

The English are coming, the English are coming!

Yes, in 1587, Sir Walter Raleigh lands here in Virginia

and sets up the very first English colony,

which promptly disappears without trace. Nice one, Wally.

So what does England do? Well, it tries again, of course.

Yes, 1607 and back in Virginia Jamestown is founded, and why there?

Because there's gold there. But the Brits are so busy mining for gold,

they forget to think about the things like growing food

and within a couple of years,

they're so hungry they have to eat horrible things

like poo and each other and sprouts and dirty water.

Though not sprouts, obviously.

And before long, they're dropping like the sales figures on my book

which I may have mentioned earlier.

So by 1625, of the 7,000 Jamestown settlers,

more than 6,000 have died.

Sounds like they need some reinforcements.

And here they come.

Yes, it's 102 very religious people from the British Midlands.

The Pilgrim Fathers, who make the Jamestown lot

look like the smartest men on earth.

They bring no ploughs, no fishing line,

no animals and one of them does bring 139 pairs of shoes.

Now there are some very weird priorities.

Luckily for the Pilgrims, the Native Americans take pity on them

and hold a giant feast.

And the Pilgrims give thanks, which is where Thanksgiving comes from.

What an interesting fact! It's also in the book.

Next to rock up then, it's the Dutch who land here

and name the place New Amsterdam, after the Dutch city of Amsterdam.

The English steal it off them and rename it

after the English city of York, which is how we get New York, see?

And the Brits aren't the only ones out stealing.

By 1750, everyone's at it, the French, the Spanish, the Brits,

all fighting each other for land,

land which really belongs to the Native Americans,

who understandably get a bit fed up with people trying to steal it off them.

So, no sooner has Britain fought off the French and the Spanish,

they have to start fighting the Native Americans.

But not like that.

Oh, no, that's way too fair.

Instead they give the Native Americans

blankets infected with smallpox and let the disease do

the fighting for them, a plan as it's horrible as it is effective.

By which I mean, very.

So now the British control most of East America

and that's that, all done, job finished, story over, step back, everyone

there's nothing to see here, there's nothing to see here.

Or so we thought.

The problem is the government back home want these American colonists

to pay British taxes but not have any say in how that money's spent,

which seems really unfair,

especially, since they put taxes on absolutely everything,

even the one thing that no one can live without, tea!

Yes, the tea tax really took the biscuit,

so in 1773, the colonists stormed the tea ships in Boston Harbour

and threw all the tea overboard, making a big statement.

An even bigger statement of really salty tea,

and that little "Boston Tea Party" was more than just a storm in a teacup,

Within two years, the colonists went to war with Britain, the American Revolution.

By 1776, it's goodbye Brits, as America declares its independence,

they are now the United States of America, the USA, the US of A,

Home of the Brave and Land of the Free, and do you know what else is free?

Yes, it's this fantastic Bob Hale action figure

when you buy my incredible new book, just £2.99 now.

So what on earth are you waiting for? Come on every...

Oh, that's more like it. Yep, don't worry, there's plenty to go around.

Yes, one for you. Of course, yes, good, well done.

And don't worry, Sam, I've saved you a signed copy.

One of the famous figures of the American War of Independence

is Paul Revere.

He's well known for riding through the night to warn fellow Americans

that the British were coming.

What isn't so well known is that he was also a dentist and an inventor.

Hi, I'm Paul Revere.

Are you fed up with cleaning your teeth using your finger?

A piece of rag? Someone else's finger?

Or nothing at all?

Then help is at hand, thanks to my amazing, not in any way effective,

All-American Toothpaste.

The unique three-stripe formula delivers complete mouth freshness.

The white stripe is sugar, the yellow stripe is butter

and the brown stripe is breadcrumbs.

Say bye-bye to cavities and hello to totally rotten teeth.

And not forgetting Paul Revere's special, not at all secret ingredient...

For that bright yellow smile that will blow your friends away.

HE COUGHS

You'll never need to use another toothpaste.

Paul Revere's All-American Toothpaste, because teeth are overrated.

ANNOUNCER: Warning, new gunpowder formula. May contain gunpowder.

MAN READING TITLE

Our Roman emperor Caligula could be a really nasty piece of work

even to his loyal followers.

But don't tell him I told you so.

Oh, oh, mighty Caligula! Are my eyes deceiving me?

Have you recovered from your dreadful illness?

Oh, thank the gods!

-Don't touch the toga. -Oh, sorry.

Indeed I am better

and I'm told when my doctors didn't know what to do with me,

it was you who came to my rescue.

-Oh, it was nothing. -Nothing at all.

You begged the gods to make me better.

Well, now you come to mention it...

Oh, no I don't want to make a big thing of this at all,

but it was actually my idea.

-All right! -But it was.

-Why'd you have to do that? -Well, I came to say thank you,

so, er, thank you, mm.

-What, that's it? No gold? -No land?

Not even a bit of small change for me? After all, it was my idea.

Why do you keep saying it?

Well, I don't know what you'd do with it where you're going?

Am I missing something here?

Well, I understand... and forgive me if I'm wrong here, but when you prayed to the gods for my speedy recovery,

you did at one point offer the gods your lives in return for mine.

Yes, technically.

And my good health has recovered.

So now, it's your turn to keep your side of the bargain! HE LAUGHS

Chop-chop, or stab-stab if you prefer it.

Emperor, please, have mercy!

"Oh, what a great idea," she says, "It'll all be all right," she says.

All right! Stop giving it that!

What a lovely couple, don't you think so, Mr Finger?

" No, they stink!"

Ooh, oh, you're right, they did.

Someone burn this toga, a peasant has touched it.

That's what really happened.

Anyone who'd offer their lives to the gods in return for Caligula's recovery

then had to make good their promise.

Yes, Caligula was one bad emperor, but was he the baddest?

The famous Roman Empire

Was the biggest, meanest neighbourhood

We four were the baddest Emperors

And by bad, we don't mean good

# Woo-hoo!

# My name is Caligula A rotten Roman pigula

# If you told me a fibula I'd hack your hands to stumps

# One time I killed a priest Who'd come to sacrifice a beast

# You think it's sad That he's deceased

# We all laughed like chumps

# I'm very hairy but take note If you so much as whisper "goat"

# With an iron rod you will be smote

# In a good mood today So I won't slit your throat

-# I'm bad -He's bad

# A shameless rotten cad # Do you still have limbs Since meeting me?

# Then I guess you should be glad

# Woo-hoo!

# Your nastiness was fabulous

# But my name's Elagabalus

# And I was far far worse

# Just listen to my verse

# I was quite notorious For catapulting venomous

# Snakes at Rome's enormous crowds Oh, how they fled

# If you won a lottery prize

# I'd give you bees dead dogs and flies

# My house guests Got a nice surprise

# A lion in their bed

# You'd think to children I'd be cuter

# No, I was their biggest executer

# Use their guts to read the future

# Says here I should Get a job as a school tutor

-# I'm bad -He's bad

# Could argue I was sad

# Hated through our empire

# From Great Britain to Baghdad

# Woo-hoo!

# Afraid your claim is bogus

# 'Cause my name is Commodus

# And no one else can be A worse emperor than me

# There never was a greater Pretend gladiator

# If the booing got too loud Made the lions fight the crowd

# Just one man was grander Julius Alexander

# So I killed him, see 'Cause I'm the Emperor, me

# I'm bad He's bad

# My actions truly rad

# You only got the Emperor job Because you were chosen by your dad

# To me you all score zero

# My name is Emperor Nero

# Evil men you're not I'm the worstest of the lot

# Whoo! My rule was full of fear-o!

# Yes men from far and near-o!

# Called me a fighting hero Or I would have them slain

# Changed the Olympic season

# So the medals went to me, son

# Burned Christians for no reason

# Just a fun game I played, you know

# Poisoned my stepbrother Ordered men to kill my mother

# Tried to drown her but she fled

# So I had her stabbed instead, oh! #

Wait, there's more.

# With my first wife, dear Octavia

# I showed truly bad behaviour

# Chopped her head off gave it to

# My girlfriend who I then killed too

# I'm bad so baddy Of badness I'm the daddy

# Come on, I want to see A more evil bloke than me, ha!

# You're bad Real bad

# Nothing more to add

# We all thought that we were awful

# But you are really truly mad

# Woo-hoo!

# I'm the baddest emperor the Romans ever had #

# Tall tales, Atrocious acts # We gave you all the fearsome facts

# The ugly truth no glam or glee

# We showed you all the juicy bits

# Gory, ghastly, mean and cruel

# Stuff they don't teach you at school

# The past is no longer a mystery