Take a look at The Lawman,
Beating up the wrong guy --
Oh, Man! Wonder if he'll ever know?
He's on The Best-Selling Show
Is there Life on Mars...?
Did you find the girl?
No, well, I can't say I'm very surprised.
I'm going to rest in my bed for half an hour.
I do not wish to be disturbed.
I'd stay there until tonight, if I was you.
We don't much relish strangers around today.
He's asleep. I don't like to use it on him, really.
The laird said we're to take no chances, didn't he?
I know, but with the Hand of Glory there's no telling when you wake.
He might sleep for days.
All the better.
Shh!
We don't want him butting in.
Go on, light it up.
That will make you sleep, my pretty Sergeant.
I'm away to change.
We can't do without Punch.
You best get on ahead.
They've given you girls five minutes start, haven't they?
Good-bye.
What's the matter with you, Macgreagor?
Do you call that dancing?
Cut some capers, man. Use your bladder.
Play The Fool.
That's what you're here for.
I suppose you've been getting drunk at your own bar.
That's more like it!
Good, good!
Here comes the job, that you chop off your head!
Chop, chop, chop, chop.
Chop, chop, chop, chop.
Everyone must go through, Macgreagor.
It's a Game of Chance, remember.
It's Holly.
Well done.
Now, my friends, to The Beach.
O god of the sea, I offer you this ale as a libation, that you may bestow upon us in the year to come the rich and diverse fruits of your kingdom.
Hail, god of the seas! Accept our offering!
And now, for our more dreadful sacrifice...
yo those who command the fruit of the Earth.
It's Rowan.
What's the matter, Mr. Macgreagor?
Now, don't be frightened. I'm a police officer.
I've got to try and get you away.
Hurry, mister, please.
I don't like it here. They're coming.
Do you know what they're gonna do?
They're going to - - Come on, come on. Hurry, hurry!
We can escape through The Cave. I know The Way.
Quickly. That's The Way Out up there.
Come on. It's through a big tunnel.
We seem to have lost our torch-bearing friends.
I'm sorry. It was worse than I remembered it.
Did I do it right?
You did it beautifully!
Dear little Rowan. Rowan, darling.
Come on, now.
LORD:
Welcome, Fool.
You have come of your own Free Will to the appointed place.
The Game is over.
POLICEMAN :
Game? What Game?
LORD :
The Game of The Hunted leading The Hunter.
You came here to find Rowan Morrison, but it is We who have found You and brought You Here and controlled your every thought and action since You arrived.
Principally, we persuaded you to think that Rowan Morrison was being held as a sacrifice because our crops failed last year.
POLICEMAN :
I know your crops failed.
I saw the harvest photograph.
LORD :
Oh, yes. They failed, all right, disastrously so... for the first time since my grandfather came Here.
The blossom came but The Fruit withered and died on The Bough.
That must not happen again this year.
It is our most earnest belief that the best way of preventing this is to offer to our God of The Sun and to The Goddess of Our Orchards the most acceptable sacrifice that lies in our power.
Animals are fine, but their acceptability is limited.
A little child is even better, but not nearly as effective as the right kind of adult.
POLICEMAN :
What do you mean, "right kind of adult"?
LORD :
You, Sergeant, are the right kind of adult, as our painstaking researches have revealed.
You, uniquely, were The One We Needed.
A Man who would come Here of his own Free Will.
A Man who has come Here with The Power of a King by representing The Law.
A Man who would come Here as a Virgin.
A Man who has come Here as a Fool.
Get out of my way.
WENCH :
You are The Fool, Mr. Howie -
Punch, one of the great Fool-Victims of History, for you have accepted The Role of King for a day, and who but A Fool would do that?
But you will be revered and anointed as a King.
You will undergo Death and Rebirth - Resurrection, if you like.
The rebirth, sadly, will not be yours, but that of our crops.
I am a Christian, and as a Christian, I Hope for Resurrection.
And even if you kill me now, it is I who will live again, not your damned apples.
Sleep Close and fast
No matter what you do, you can't change the fact that I believe in the Life Eternal, as promised to Us by Our Lord, Jesus Christ.
I believe in The Life Eternal as promised to Us by Our Lord, Jesus Christ.
LORD :
That is good. For believing what you do, we confer upon you a rare gift these days - a Martyr's Death.
You will not only have Life Eternal, but you will sit with The Saints among The Elect.
Come. It is time to keep your appointment with The Wicker Man.
Now, wait! Now, all of you, just wait and listen to me.
And you can wrap it up any way you like.
You are about to commit murder. Can you not see?
There is no Sun God.
There is no Goddess of The Fields.
Your crops failed because your strains failed.
Fruit is not meant to be grown on these islands.
It's against Nature.
Don't you see that killing me is not going to bring back your apples?
Summerisle, you know it won't. Go on, man.
Tell them. Tell them it won't.
LORD :
I know it will.
Well, don't you understand that if your crops fail this year, next year you're going to have to have another blood sacrifice?
And next year, no one less than The King of Summerisle himself will do.
If the crops fail, Summerisle, next year your people will kill you on May Day.
LORD :
They will not fail. The Sacrifice of The Willing King-like Virgin-Fool, will be accepted.
But don't you see I'll be missed?
They'll come looking for me.
There will be no traces. Bring him up, Oak.
Go on.
No! Think! Just think what you're doing
! Think what you're doing! Think! In The Name of God, think what you're doing!
Oh, God! Oh, Jesus Christ!
Oh, my God! Christ! No, no, dear God! No, Christ! No, no!
Mighty god of the Sun, bountiful goddess of our orchards, accept our sacrifice and make our blossoms fruit. Mighty god of the Sun, bountiful goddess of our orchards... - Hear ye the words of the lord! ...accept our sacrifice and make our blossoms fruit. Awake, ye heathens, and hold! It is the Lord who hath laid waste your orchards! It is he who hath made them bare! - Reverence the sacrifice. Hold, ye husbandmen, because the harvest of your field hath perished and the vine is dried up and the apple tree languisheth! Even all the trees of the field are withered because the truth is withered away from the sons of men. Desire shall fail and ye shall all die accursed! Summer is a-comin' in Loudly sing cuckoo Grows the seed and blows the mead And springs the wood anew Sing cuckoo Ewe bleats harshly after lamb Cows after calves make moo The lord's my shepherd I'll not want He takes me down to lie in pastures - Oh, God. Grows the seed and blows the mead And springs the wood anew - Sing cuckoo - Oh, God. I humbly entreat you for the soul of this, thy servant, Neil Howie... who will today depart from this world. Do not deliver me into The Enemy's hands... or put me out of mind forever. Let me not undergo the real pains of hell, dear God, because I die unshriven - Cuckoo, cuckoo - and establish me in that bliss which knows no ending, - Cuckoo - through Christ, our lord. Grows the seed and blows the mead Failure! Failure! Sing cuckoo Ewe bleats harshly after lamb Cows after calves make moo Bullock stamps and deer champs Now shrilly sing cuckoo Cuckoo, cuckoo Wild bird are you Be never still, cuckoo
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