Toothless old CRONE by the roadside. ARTHUR and BEDEVERE and two PAGES ride up and draw up alongside the CRONE.
ARTHUR: Is there anywhere where we could buy a shrubbery?
The OLD CRONE crosses herself with a look of stark terror.
CRONE: Who sent you?
ARTHUR: The Knights Who Say Ni!
CRONE: Aaaagh! (she looks around in rear) No! We have no shrubberies here.
BEDEVERE: Surely, there must be.
ARTHUR restrains from threatening the LADY.
ARTHUR (aside): It will be not good to argue. These simple people are terrified of the Knights Who Say Ni!
CRONE (she cowers): Ohhh!
ARTHUR takes BEDEVERE further aside.
ARTHUR: There is only one way to get the information we want …
BEDEVERE: Send her a letter from a long way away?
ARTHUR: Er, no … no, we must …
BEDEVERE: Talk to her in funny voices?
ARTHUR (slightly crossly): No …
BEDEVERE: How about trying ourselves to a tree?
ARTHUR (grittily): No. Our only hope is to make her as afraid of us as she is of the awful Knights Who Say Ni!
BEDEVERE (sagely): Ah! Hit ourselves with a big rock …
He nods knowingly.
ARTHUR (tolerantly but firmly): No. Nothing we do to ourselves will frighten her as much as what we can do to her …
BEDEVERE: Ah!
ARTHUR: We must threaten to say “Ni”!
BEDEVERE (terror): Oh, no.
They reapproach the OLD CRONE who is cowering more than ever.
ARTHUR: Listen, old crone! Unless you tell us where we can buy a shrubbery, my friend and I will … we will say “Ni”!
CRONE: Do your worst!
CRONE: I have herd the Knights say “Ni”! in the night. I have herd the hideous Peng! and they have said “Nee-wum”! to my sister but still I have not revealed …
ARTHUR: Very well, old crone. Since you will not assist us voluntarily … “Ni”!
CRONE: No. Never. No shrubberies.
ARTHUR: Ni!
BEDEVERE: Nu!
ARTHUR: No. Ni! More like this. “Ni”!
BEDEVERE: Ni, ni, ni!
ARTHUR: It’s not working.
ARTHUR: You’re not doing it properly. Ni!
BEDEVERE: Ni!
ARTHUR: That’s it. Ni! Ni!
A PASSER-BY on a horse is observing them.
ROGER: Are you saying “Ni” to that old woman?
ARTHUR: Erm, yes.
ROGER: Oh, what sad times are these when passing ruffians can say “Ni” at will to old ladies. There is a pestilence upon this land! nothing is sacred. Even those who arrange and design shrubberies are under considerable economic stress at this point in time.
ARTHUR: Did you say shrubberies?
ROGER: Yes. Shrubberies are my trade. I am a shrubber. My name is Roger the Shrubber. I arrange, design, and sell shrubberies.
BEDEVERE (rather aggressively, to ROGER): Ni!
ARTHUR: No. No. No!