now, that old scoundrel ubu is dead, which only leaves old mother ubu and her malcontent to deal with. i ask only to march at your head and restore the royal succession of my ancestors. long live boggerlas. and we shall abolish all the taxes imposed by that horrible old ubu. - hurrah. - forward. - onward to the palace. - this way-- aha. there's the old hag. what can i do for you, gentlemen? oh, it's boggerlas. keep throwing stones, my friends. oh, so that's the way to say. defend yourself, cowardly bumpkin. i challenge you to single combat. ah, i'm done for. victory, my friends. now, for ma ubu. ah, here come the nobles. quick, let's seize the wicked hag. yes, she'll do. and you, will you string up the old man himself? [music] ubu, ubu, ubu, ubu, ubu. all right, my friends, get hold of that lousy sot, manure. make mincemeat of the russians. victory is ours. three cheers for the red eagle. - hurrah. - ubu, ubu, ubu, ubu, ubu. let's get that big bugger. my god, i've come a cropper. so it's you, manure. well, well, we are delighted to see you again. i'm a dead man. that must have been a