The Reluctant Dragon (I) (1941)

Billy Lee: The Boy (segment "The Reluctant Dragon")

Photos 

Quotes 

• The Dragon : You've got to be mad to breathe fire, but I'm not mad at anybody.

  The Boy : But try real hard. Concentrate.

  [the dragon tries, but all he can muster is a puny smoke ring] 

  The Dragon : Not very good, is it?

  The Boy : Nope. Too bad you're not a real dragon, instead of a punk poet.

  The Dragon : [Angry]  "Punk poet"?

  [Now fire is coming out of his mouth] 

  The Dragon : Ooh, say that again.

  The Boy : Punk poet.

  The Dragon : Again.

  The Boy : Punk poet.

  The Dragon : Again.

  The Boy : Punk poet.

  The Dragon : [Delighted]  Ooh, I'm mad! I'm mad! I'm mad!

  The Boy : Punk poet! Punk poet! Punk poet!

• The Boy : Sir Giles, I presume?

  Sir Giles : Come, come, come, come, lad. Stop mumbling.

  The Boy : I came to talk about the dragon.

  Sir Giles : Ah, yes, yes, yes. Another tale of woe and misery, I suppose. Devoured your flocks, no doubt.

  The Boy : Oh, no, sir. He...

  Sir Giles : Aha! Made off with your loving parents, has he? Well, they shall be avenged!

  The Boy : But you don't understand...

  Sir Giles : What? Don't tell me he's kidnapped some fair damsel, with flaxen hair, and ruby lips, and form divine? Why, he can't do that to her! He shall pay dearly on the field of battle.

  The Boy : But that's just it. He won't fight.

  Sir Giles : Yes. He... He won't fight? Preposterous! The fellow must be an infernal cad. Bit of a rotter, what?

  The Boy : He is not. He's a nice old dragon who likes to write poetry.

  Sir Giles : Poetry?

  The Boy : Yes. You know, verses?

  Sir Giles : How jolly! Ha ha! I'm a bit of a bard myself, you know.

  The Boy : You a poet, too?

  Sir Giles : Yes. No doubt you've heard of my Ode to a Fleecy Cloud?

  The Boy : Well, I...

  Sir Giles : Oh fleecy cloud, O cloud of fleece, up in the sky so high... Oh. Oh, my.

  The Boy : Oh, my.

• The Boy : Do you mind if I recite a poem?

  The Dragon : You, boy? Why, well, oh, not at all!

  Sir Giles : Oh, of course, of course. Rather, rather!

  The Boy : 'Tis evening / From the stars above / A soft mysterious light / Brings thoughts of friendship, joy and love.

  [shouts] 

  The Boy : Now how 'bout that fight?

• Father : Oh, son, I seen it! Up on the bounds it was, all covered with scales and such, and a tail with a sort of hook on it! Now wait until I catch me breath. It's horrible! That's what it is, horrible!

  The Boy : It's only a dragon, father.

  Father : Oh... Only a dragon? Oh! The village! Help! There's a dragon a-coming! Help!

  The Boy : Don't worry, father. I'll have a look at him.

• The Boy : Have you had any nice battles lately?

  The Dragon : Battles? Oh, no, no, no battles. No.

  The Boy : Oh. Oh, probably too busy scourging the countryside and devouring fair damsels, then.

  The Dragon : Scourging? Devouring? Good heavens, no.

  The Boy : But don't you ever do anything desperate?

  The Dragon : Well, yes, I... I do make up poetry.

  The Boy : Poetry?

  The Dragon : Verses, you know? Care to hear my latest sonnet?

  The Boy : Well, I...

  The Dragon : Oh, you'll love this. I call it, "Just A-Drifting".

  [sings] 

  The Dragon : Just a-drifting o'er the leaves/Like a dewdrop, fancy free,/Playing with the gentle breezes,/Romping with the bumble beezes./Oh, what fun! Joy never ceases,/Just a-drifting.