The Englishman Who Went Up a Hill But Came Down a Mountain Quotes
When an English cartographer must tell a Welsh village that their mountain is only a hill, the offended community sets out to change that.
Grandfather: All this fuss over what? Is it a hill, is it a mountain? Perhaps it wouldn't matter anywhere else, but this is Wales. The Egyptians built pyramids, the Greeks built temples, but we did none of that, because we had mountains. Yes, the Welsh were created by mountains: where the mountain starts, there starts Wales. If this isn't a mountain - well, if this isn't a mountain, then Anson might just as well redraw the border and put us all in England, God forbid.
[last lines]
Grandfather: And so it was that Betty and Anson stayed the night on Ffynnon Gawr. Now you know what the Welsh say about people who stay on mountain peaks at night, don't you? They become poets, madmen, very very wise, or...
[band playing, procession, cheering]
Grandfather: And when they descended, it was to announce that Ffynnon Gawr was indeed a mountain, of one thousand and two feet, and that they were engaged to be married. Yes, it was an odd courtship, but one befitting a man who went up a hill but came down a mountain.
[cheering]
Narrator: And should you think this is just a shaggy dog story told by a senile man to his impressionable grandson, I'd ask you to come to South Wales, to the village where I was born, and as you drive north from Cardiff, look for the first big hill. Not just a hill, but a mountain, and the children of the people who built it. However, just before this film was made, the mountain was remeasured and found to be nine hundred and ninety-seven feet, thus the mound had settled back into a hill.
Rev. Robert Jones: [from the grave monument] A hill?
[sighs]
Grandfather: And so it was that Betty and Anson stayed the night on Ffynnon Gawr. Now you know what the Welsh say about people who stay on mountain peaks at night, don't you? They become poets, madmen, very very wise, or...
[band playing, procession, cheering]
Grandfather: And when they descended, it was to announce that Ffynnon Gawr was indeed a mountain, of one thousand and two feet, and that they were engaged to be married. Yes, it was an odd courtship, but one befitting a man who went up a hill but came down a mountain.
[cheering]
Narrator: And should you think this is just a shaggy dog story told by a senile man to his impressionable grandson, I'd ask you to come to South Wales, to the village where I was born, and as you drive north from Cardiff, look for the first big hill. Not just a hill, but a mountain, and the children of the people who built it. However, just before this film was made, the mountain was remeasured and found to be nine hundred and ninety-seven feet, thus the mound had settled back into a hill.
Rev. Robert Jones: [from the grave monument] A hill?
[sighs]
Betty: All this for just a map?
Morgan the Goat: Just a map!
[putting his hands around her waist]
Morgan the Goat: Maps, my dear, are the undergarments of a country! They give shape...
[moves his hands up to her breasts]
Morgan the Goat: ... to continents.
[Betty raises her fist, and Morgan runs out of the room]
Morgan the Goat: Just a map!
[putting his hands around her waist]
Morgan the Goat: Maps, my dear, are the undergarments of a country! They give shape...
[moves his hands up to her breasts]
Morgan the Goat: ... to continents.
[Betty raises her fist, and Morgan runs out of the room]
Reginald Anson: Um, I'm not sure that I can rely on Mr. Garrad. But, um, the thing is, I-I will need an assistant. I, uh - you wouldn't, um?
Betty: Me?
Reginald Anson: Well, why not?
Betty: Well... I've never been to Abyssinia!
Reginald Anson: Heh.
Betty: Or Aden, or Sevastopol. And I can't speak with a posh accent for long.
Reginald Anson: Well, I-I-I-I think we can get over that.
Betty: I'm just a maidservant!
Reginald Anson: Well, I-I don't think the word just could apply to you about anything.
Betty: Was that a compliment?
Reginald Anson: Yes. Yes. Now, n-now I'm going to blush, so, um, would you help me... please?
Betty: Since you said please. And you're blushing!
Reginald Anson: Ohh.
Betty: Yes, I will.
Reginald Anson: Good. Then, um, prepare the engineer's transit.
Betty: What?
Reginald Anson: I'll show you.
Betty: Me?
Reginald Anson: Well, why not?
Betty: Well... I've never been to Abyssinia!
Reginald Anson: Heh.
Betty: Or Aden, or Sevastopol. And I can't speak with a posh accent for long.
Reginald Anson: Well, I-I-I-I think we can get over that.
Betty: I'm just a maidservant!
Reginald Anson: Well, I-I don't think the word just could apply to you about anything.
Betty: Was that a compliment?
Reginald Anson: Yes. Yes. Now, n-now I'm going to blush, so, um, would you help me... please?
Betty: Since you said please. And you're blushing!
Reginald Anson: Ohh.
Betty: Yes, I will.
Reginald Anson: Good. Then, um, prepare the engineer's transit.
Betty: What?
Reginald Anson: I'll show you.
Morgan the Goat: I don't want Ffynnon Garw to be on the map because we begged for it, because we, we-we pleaded. No. If Ffynnon Garw has to be a thousand feet, then I say let it be a thousand feet! Put 20 feet, that's all we need, a 20-foot tump and we have our mountain!
Jones the JP: I'm not sure how legal that is...
Rev. Robert Jones: Yes, or ethical...
Morgan the Goat: Legal? Ethical? Wh - how legal was it to say that a thousand feet is a mountain and 984 isn't, uh? Uh? Do we call a short man a boy, or a small dog a cat? No! This is a mountain, our mountain, and if it needs to be a thousand feet, then by God let's make it a thousand feet!
Jones the JP: I'm not sure how legal that is...
Rev. Robert Jones: Yes, or ethical...
Morgan the Goat: Legal? Ethical? Wh - how legal was it to say that a thousand feet is a mountain and 984 isn't, uh? Uh? Do we call a short man a boy, or a small dog a cat? No! This is a mountain, our mountain, and if it needs to be a thousand feet, then by God let's make it a thousand feet!
[Anson and Garrad have explained they must go and calculate the height]
Thomas Twp Too: And how d'you know later?
Reginald Anson: Well, w-we've made, um, we've made measurements with those two hills, and w-we already know the height of Newton Beacon and Whitchurch Hill...
Thomas Twp: But how were they measured?
Reginald Anson: The same way, by comparing them with other hills.
Thomas Twp Too: But who measured the first hill?
Rev. Robert Jones: [whispering] God. God, my boy. God.
Thomas Twp Too: And how d'you know later?
Reginald Anson: Well, w-we've made, um, we've made measurements with those two hills, and w-we already know the height of Newton Beacon and Whitchurch Hill...
Thomas Twp: But how were they measured?
Reginald Anson: The same way, by comparing them with other hills.
Thomas Twp Too: But who measured the first hill?
Rev. Robert Jones: [whispering] God. God, my boy. God.
[the resurvey could not be completed by nightfall]
Reginald Anson: Well, i-i-it will be measured again! I mean, uh, perhaps we'll even come back through here on our return, and...
Betty: You won't be back. This isn't a place that people like you come back to.
Reginald Anson: Well, I'll try, I'll, I'll really try...
Betty: I'll try! Is that the best you can do?
Reginald Anson: Well, i-i-it will be measured again! I mean, uh, perhaps we'll even come back through here on our return, and...
Betty: You won't be back. This isn't a place that people like you come back to.
Reginald Anson: Well, I'll try, I'll, I'll really try...
Betty: I'll try! Is that the best you can do?
[first lines]
Narrator: For some odd reason, lost in the mists of time, there's an extraordinary shortage of last names in Wales. Almost everyone seems to be a Williams, a Jones, or an Evans. To avoid widespread confusion, Welsh people often add an occupation to a name. For example, there was Williams the Petroleum, and Williams the Death. There was Jones the Bottle, and Jones the Prize Cabbage... which described his hobby and his personality. Evans the Bacon, and Evans the End of the World. But one man's name was a puzzle, and it wasn't until I was 10 years old that I asked my grandfather about the man with the longest and most enigmatic name of all.
Grandfather: [to the narrator at age 10] The Englishman Who Went Up a Hill but Came Down a Mountain? Now there's a long name for you. And a long story. You are not going to fidget, are you? For this is a story... an epic story. Yes, epic.
Narrator: For some odd reason, lost in the mists of time, there's an extraordinary shortage of last names in Wales. Almost everyone seems to be a Williams, a Jones, or an Evans. To avoid widespread confusion, Welsh people often add an occupation to a name. For example, there was Williams the Petroleum, and Williams the Death. There was Jones the Bottle, and Jones the Prize Cabbage... which described his hobby and his personality. Evans the Bacon, and Evans the End of the World. But one man's name was a puzzle, and it wasn't until I was 10 years old that I asked my grandfather about the man with the longest and most enigmatic name of all.
Grandfather: [to the narrator at age 10] The Englishman Who Went Up a Hill but Came Down a Mountain? Now there's a long name for you. And a long story. You are not going to fidget, are you? For this is a story... an epic story. Yes, epic.
