I got me a real for sure offer.

The presentation at court, knighted, a seat in the House of Lords, luncheon with the Prime Minister, tea with the Queen.

You left it at the house.

Would I have critters at the castle?

Well, I'll, uh, take your applications one at a time.

You can't show up at our castle without a royal oath.

The Clampetts will stay at the castle, I'll be up in London receiving the honors, banking the money.

When you hear someone knocking at the door, you're supposed to let down the door string.

And there is no debtors' prison, no torture for those overdrawn at the bank.

Well, is it respectful to show up at a place like that wearing strange clothes?

Doinks and tally-ho, my liege, or Junk Row Depot Dean, at thy service.

If I know Mr. Clive, he may decide not to go to England at all.

These are the kind of royal raiments we's going to be wearing over at your castle.

And then one day he was shooting at some food, and up to the ground come a bubbling crude.

I was over at the bank when Mr. Drysdale got the word, so I went over to the studio and got us some Queen Elizabeth clothes.

A what?

A sailor.

I'll make you a scullion or a serf.

Set a spell.

A fighting man.