shepherded rams and sheep.
The baron went by in the forest
And called me his friend.
I dreamt of marrying him.
I was the beautiful Nefertiti
And I imprisoned the baron,
And he whispered: "Would you like
To go to the Moon with me?"
You will hardly believe me
It was like a dream!
The baron and I
The baron and I
Danced on the Moon!
The passage of time has stopped since
I am again shepherding rams.
People keep saying I am insane,
That it was all a dream
All that adventure in the forest!
You'll hardly believe
It was like in a dream!
The baron and I
The baron and I
Danced on the Moon!
Stop it, Theo, stop.
Be a man!
Yes, yes, of course!
It is just nerves.
Follow me, gentlemen. Follow me.
This way.
Here, gentlemen, you see close
friends of our dear baron.
Archimedes, Newton, Shakespeare
and other geniuses.
This way, please! The baron's widow,
his son, pastor.
Now please proceed into the bedroom.
When I hear all this and remember...
Dear God, dear God, how unfair
we were to him, how cruel!
My dear, who could foresee
such developments?
We were sincere in our delusions,
time has shown us the truth.
Such is the destiny of all great men,
contemporaries never understand them.
Contemporaries you said? Perhaps!
But we are relatives.
It makes me shudder to remember that I
dreamt of a duel with my father!
I wanted to kill him!
We all killed him.
Murderers!
Stop it, Theo! I am sick
and tired of your hysterics.
You can't blame yourself all the time.
After all, now, three years
after his death
all Germany reverently repeats
the name of baron Munchhausen
and first of all it is
the merit of his relatives.
We published the collected works
of the baron.
Tomorrow his monument
will be unveiled!
Well? What else?
If only he were alive.
If one could turn back
the time... Ah?
What for, my dear? That is
one thing we shall not do.
- Let time pass its usual way.
- No!
- Stop it! Control yourself!
- But mommy...
- Theo!
- But mommy...
- Control yourself, my boy.
- All right!
My darling, my beloved, my dear.
- What have we got here?
- I don't know.
You've been pulling
at your hair again.
- But that is silly.
- And very painful.
- Did you try? Ever?
- God forbid, baroness. How could I?
- Oh.
- Sorry.
- What... what...
- Quiet!
The baron asked to forewarn.
- Are they flying?
- They are, baron, they are.
- Mother, the are flying!
- Control yourself, son!
- They are flying, mother!
- Theophil, aren't you tried of it yet?
No, no, let him try once more.
- Theo.
- No, mother. Throw it!
- Hop!
- Hop!
What a way to throw, mother.
Try again.
Today I feel inspired, pastor.
Let's shoot through the chimney.
Take command, Thomas!
Ready... Fire!
You ought to have placed a duck there
beforehand and the just pulled at the string.
I am sure your father did exactly that.
Don't blaspheme!
- Tulips a taller one!
- How much are carnations?
- 2 talers. - How do you mean
2 talers? They are withered.
Withered? While the baron was alive
nobody cared much for him either.
- But once he withered, he became
dear. Withered. - Take here
and stick them up your ass!
Go. Go.
2 talers!
What can I do for you?
Asters, cyclamens, carnations!
- I'd rather have violets.
- Violets? Violets!
A forest flower! I have got only
greenhouse plants. Greenhouse.
Take nasturtiums. 3 talers each.
No. My late master liked violets.
- Coarse taste.
- What did you say?
Your master had no taste
for the real beauty.
Who are you to judge my master?
Baron?!
Don't call me that. I am Muller.
Gardener Muller.
Got it?
Got it, Mr. Muller, baron.
I have always known.
I never believed you were dead.
Even when they said so in
the papers I didn't believe it.
I didn't believe it at
the funereal service.
And even when they buried you
I had my doubts.
I am so happy, baron!
Well... Don't call me that.
I told you I am Muller.
To me you are always baron.
Then add "the late" or "the deceased"