Monty Python's 'Life of Brian' Script Part 2
|[Scene 11]||[Scene 12]||[Scene 13]||[Scene 14]||[Scene 15]|
|[Scene 16]||[Scene 17]||[Scene 18]||[Scene 19]||[Scene 20]|
FRANCIS: Now, this is the palace in Caesar's Square. Our commando unit will approach from Fish Street, under cover of night, and make our way to the northwestern main drain. If questioned, we are sewage workers on our way to a conference. -- Reg, our glorious leader and founder of the P.F.J., will be coordinating consultant at the drain head, though he himself will not be taking part in any terrorist action, as he has a bad back.
BRIAN: Aren't you going to come with us?
REG: Solidarity, brother.
BRIAN: Oh, yes. Solidarity, Reg.
FRANCIS: Once in the sewer, timing will be of the essence. There is a Roman feast later in the evening, so we must move fast, and don't wear your best sandals. Turning left here, we enter the Caesar-Augustus memorial sewer and from there, proceed directly to the hypocaust. This has just been re-tiled, so terrorists, careful with those weapons. We will now be directly beneath Pilate's audience chamber itself. This is the moment for Habbakuk to get out his prong.
[chink chink chink]
[thuk thuk chink chink chink chink chink]
[thump thump thump thump]
CAMPAIGN FOR FREE GALILEE: Shhh! Shh. Shhh. Shh.
DEADLY DIRK: Campaign for Free Galilee.
FRANCIS: Oh. Uh, People's Front of Judea. Officials.
DEADLY DIRK: Oh.
FRANCIS: What's your group doing here?
DEADLY DIRK: We're going to kidnap Pilate's wife, take her back, issue demands.
FRANCIS: So are we.
DEADLY DIRK: What?
FRANCIS: That's our plan!
DEADLY DIRK: We were here first!
FRANCIS: What do you mean?!
DEADLY DIRK: We thought of it first!
WARRIS: Oh, yeah?
DEADLY DIRK: Yes, a couple of years ago!
P.F.J.: Ha. Heh. Ha ha.
DEADLY DIRK: We did!
FRANCIS: Okay, c-- co-- come on. You got all your demands worked out, then?
DEADLY DIRK: 'Course we have.
FRANCIS: What are they?
DEADLY DIRK: Well, I'm not telling you.
FRANCIS: Oh, come on. Pull the other one.
DEADLY DIRK: That's not the point! We thought of it before you!
WARRIS: Did not.
DEADLY DIRK: We did!
FRANCIS: You didn't.
C.F.G.: We bloody did!
P.F.J.: Shhhhh! Shh.
DEADLY DIRK: You bastards! We've been planning this for months.
FRANCIS: Well, tough titty for you, Fish Face. Oh! Oh.
RANDOM: All right.
WARRIS: Clever. You sly...
BRIAN: Brothers! Brothers! We should be struggling together!
FRANCIS: We are! Ohh.
BRIAN: We mustn't fight each other! Surely we should be united against the common enemy!
EVERYONE: The Judean People's Front?!
BRIAN: No, no! The Romans!
EVERYONE: Oh, yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yes.
FRANCIS: Yeah. He's right.
RANDOM: Look out!
DEADLY DIRK: Right! Where were we?
FRANCIS: Uhh, you were going to punch me.
DEADLY DIRK: Oh, yeah.
[C.F.G. and P.F.J. fight]
BRIAN: Brothers! [whop] Oof!
VOICE: Hoo hoo hoo! Oh!
JAILER: Eh, heh heh ha. [ptoo]
BRIAN: Aah! Eh.
JAILER: Eh, heh heh. [cough cough cough cough cough]
BEN: You lucky bastard.
BRIAN: Who's that?
BEN: You lucky, lucky bastard.
BEN: Proper little jailer's pet, aren't we?
BRIAN: What do you mean?
BEN: You must have slipped him a few shekels, eh?
BRIAN: Slipped him a few shekels? You saw him spit in my face!
BEN: Ohh! What wouldn't I give to be spat at in the face! I sometimes hang awake at night dreaming of being spat at in the face.
BRIAN: Well, it's not exactly friendly, is it? They had me in manacles!
BEN: Manacles! Ooh oooh oh oh. My idea of heaven is to be allowed to be put in manacles... just for a few hours. ..... They must think the sun shines out o' your arse, sonny.
BRIAN: Oh, lay off me. I've had a hard time!
BEN: You've had a hard time?! I've been here five years! They only hung me the right way up yesterday! So, don't you come 'rou--
BRIAN: All right. All right.
BEN: They must think you're Lord God Almighty.
BRIAN: What will they do to me?
BEN: Oh, you'll probably get away with crucifixion.
BEN: Yeah, first offense.
BRIAN: Get away with crucifixion?! It's--
BEN: Best thing the Romans ever did for us.
BEN: Oh, yeah. If we didn't have crucifixion, this country would be in a right bloody mess.
BEN: Nail him up, I say!
BEN: Nail some sense into him!
JAILER: [cough cough] What do you want?
BRIAN: I want you to move me to another cell.
JAILER: Ha! [ptoo]
BEN: Oh, look at that! Bloody favouritism!
JAILER: Shut up, you!
JAILER: Huhh. [cough cough]
BEN: Now, take my case. They hung me up here five years ago. Every night, they take me down for twenty minutes, then they hang me up again, which I regard as very fair, in view of what I done, and, if nothing else, it's taught me to respect the Romans, and it's taught me... that you'll never get anywhere in this life, unless you're prepared to do a fair day's work for a fair day's pay!
BRIAN: Oh, shut up!
CENTURION: Pilate wants to see you!
CENTURION: Come on!
BRIAN: Pilate? What does he want to see me for?
CENTURION: I think he wants to know which way up you want to be crucified.
BEN: Oh, ha ha ha haa! Ha haa! Nice one, Centurion. Like it. Like it.
CENTURION: Shut up!
BEN: Right. Right. Terrific race, the Romans. Terrific.
PONTIUS PILATE: ...Make one large living awea. Ahh.
CENTURION: Hail Caesar.
CENTURION: Only one survivor, sir.
PILATE: Ah. Thwow him to the floor.
CENTURION: What, sir?
PILATE: Thwow him to the floor.
PILATE: Hmm. Now, what is your name, Jew?
BRIAN: 'Brian', sir.
PILATE: 'Bwian', eh?
BRIAN: No, no. 'Brian'. [slap] Aah!
PILATE: Hoo hoo hoo ho. The little wascal has spiwit.
CENTURION: Has what, sir?
CENTURION: Yes. He did, sir.
PILATE: No, no. Spiwit, siw. Um, bwavado. A touch of dewwing-do.
CENTURION: Oh. Ahh, about eleven, sir.
PILATE: So, you dare to waid us.
BRIAN: To what, sir?
PILATE: Stwike him, Centuwion, vewy woughly!
CENTURION: Oh, and, uh, throw him to the floor, sir?
CENTURION: Thwow him to the floor again, sir?
PILATE: Oh, yes. Thwow him to the floor, please.
BRIAN: Aah! [whump]
PILATE: Now, Jewish wapscallion.
BRIAN: I'm not Jewish. I'm a Roman.
PILATE: A Woman?
BRIAN: No, no. Roman. [slap] Aah!
PILATE: Your father was a Woman? Who was he?
BRIAN: He was a centurion in the Jerusalem Garrisons.
PILATE: Weally? What was his name?
BRIAN: 'Naughtius Maximus'.
CENTURION: Ahh, ha ha!
PILATE: Centuwion, do we have anyone of that name in the gawwison?
CENTURION: Well, no, sir.
PILATE: Well, you sound vewy sure. Have you checked?
CENTURION: Well, no, sir. Umm, I think it's a joke, sir,... like, uh, 'Sillius Soddus' or... 'Biggus Dickus', sir.
GUARD #4: [chuckling]
PILATE: What's so... funny about 'Biggus Dickus'?
CENTURION: Well, it's a joke name, sir.
PILATE: I have a vewy gweat fwiend in Wome called 'Biggus Dickus'.
GUARD #4: [chuckling]
PILATE: Silence! What is all this insolence? You will find yourself in gladiator school vewy quickly with wotten behaviour like that.
BRIAN: Can I go now, sir? [slap] Aaah! Eh.
PILATE: Wait till Biggus Dickus hears of this.
GUARD #4: [chuckling]
PILATE: Wight! Take him away!
CENTURION: Oh, sir, he-- he only--
PILATE: No, no. I want him fighting wabid, wild animals within a week.
CENTURION: Yes, sir. Come on, you.
GUARD #4: Ha ha haa ha, ha ha ha. Hooo hooo hoo hoo. Hoo hoo...
PILATE: I will not have my fwiends widiculed by the common soldiewy. --- Anybody else feel like a little... giggle... when I mention my fwiend... Biggus...
GUARD #1: [chuckling]
GUARD #1: [chuckling]
PILATE: What about you? Do you find it... wisible... when I say the name... 'Biggus'...
GUARD #3: [chuckle]
GUARD #1 and
GUARD #2: [chuckling]
PILATE: He has a wife, you know. You know what she's called? She's called... 'Incontinentia'. Incontinentia Buttocks
PILATE: Stop! What is all this?
GUARDS: Ha, ha ha ha ha ha...
PILATE: I've had enough of this wowdy webel sniggewing behaviour. Silence! Call yourselves Pwaetowian guards? You're not-- Seize him! Seize him! Blow your noses and seize him!
WORKMAN: Hmm? Oh. [whistling]
BRIAN: Aaaaaaah! [falls]
[Brian falls into passing spaceship]
ALIEN #1: Aggz.
ALIEN #2: Rozak kaibak. [siren] Agk! Grohtch. Ak!
[whizz whizz whizz whizz whizz whizz whizz]
[whizz whizz whizz whizz whizz whizz whizz whizz whizz]
[spaceship crashes, Brian survives]
PASSER-BY: Ooh, you lucky bastard.
BLOOD & THUNDER PROPHET: ...And the bezan shall be huge and black, and the eyes thereof red with the blood of living creatures, and the whore of Babylon shall ride forth on a three-headed serpent, and throughout the lands, there'll be a great rubbing of parts. Yeeah...
FALSE PROPHET: ...For the demon shall bear a nine-bladed sword. Nine-bladed! Not two or five or seven, but nine, which he will wield on all wretched sinners, sinners just like you, sir, there, and the horns shall be on the head, with which he will...
BORING PROPHET: ...Obadiah, his servants. There shall, in that time, be rumours of things going astray, erm, and there shall be a great confusion as to where things really are, and nobody will really know where lieth those little things wi-- with the sort of raffia work base that has an attachment. At this time, a friend shall lose his friend's hammer and the young shall not know where lieth the things possessed by their fathers that their fathers put there only just the night before, about eight o'clock. Yea, it is written in the book of Cyril that, in that time, shall the third one...
BRIAN: How much? Quick.
HARRY THE HAGGLER: What?
BRIAN: It's for the wife.
HARRY THE HAGGLER: Oh. Uhhh, twenty shekels.
HARRY THE HAGGLER: What?
BRIAN: There you are.
HARRY THE HAGGLER: Wait a minute.
HARRY THE HAGGLER: Well, we're-- we're supposed to haggle.
BRIAN: No, no. I've got to get--
HARRY THE HAGGLER: What do you mean, 'no, no, no'?
BRIAN: I haven't time. I've got--
HARRY THE HAGGLER: Well, give it back, then.
BRIAN: No, no, no. I just paid you.
HARRY THE HAGGLER: Burt!
HARRY THE HAGGLER: This bloke won't haggle.
BURT: Won't haggle?!
BRIAN: All right. Do we have to?
HARRY THE HAGGLER: Now, look. I want twenty for that.
BRIAN: I-- I just gave you twenty.
HARRY THE HAGGLER: Now, are you telling me that's not worth twenty shekels?
HARRY THE HAGGLER: Look at it. Feel the quality. That's none of your goat.
BRIAN: All right. I'll give you nineteen then.
HARRY THE HAGGLER: No, no, no. Come on. Do it properly.
HARRY THE HAGGLER: Haggle properly. This isn't worth nineteen.
BRIAN: Well, you just said it was worth twenty.
HARRY THE HAGGLER: Ohh, dear. Ohh, dear. Come on. Haggle.
BRIAN: Huh. All right. I'll give you ten.
HARRY THE HAGGLER: That's more like it. Ten?! Are you trying to insult me?! Me, with a poor dying grandmother?! Ten?!
BRIAN: All right. I'll give you eleven.
HARRY THE HAGGLER: Now you're gettin' it. Eleven?! Did I hear you right?! Eleven?! This cost me twelve. You want to ruin me?!
HARRY THE HAGGLER: No, no, no, no. Seventeen.
HARRY THE HAGGLER: No, no. You go to fourteen now.
BRIAN: All right. I'll give you fourteen.
HARRY THE HAGGLER: Fourteen?! Are you joking?!
BRIAN: That's what you told me to say.
HARRY THE HAGGLER: Ohh, dear.
BRIAN: Ohh, tell me what to say. Please!
HARRY THE HAGGLER: Offer me fourteen.
BRIAN: I'll give you fourteen.
HARRY THE HAGGLER: He's offering me fourteen for this!
HARRY THE HAGGLER: Seventeen. My last word. I won't take a penny less, or strike me dead.
HARRY THE HAGGLER: Done. Nice to do business with you.
HARRY THE HAGGLER: Tell you what. I'll throw you in this as well.
BRIAN: I don't want it, but thanks.
HARRY THE HAGGLER: Burt!
BRIAN: All right! All right! All right!
HARRY THE HAGGLER: Now, where's the sixteen you owe me?
BRIAN: I just gave you twenty.
HARRY THE HAGGLER: Oh, yeah. That's right. That's four I owe you, then.
BRIAN: Well, that's all right. That's fine. That's fine.
HARRY THE HAGGLER: No. Hang on. I've got it here somewhere.
BRIAN: That's all right. That's four for the gourd.
HARRY THE HAGGLER: Four? For this gourd? Four?! Look at it. It's worth ten if it's worth a shekel.
BRIAN: But you just gave it to me for nothing.
HARRY THE HAGGLER: Yes, but it's worth ten!
BRIAN: All right. All right.
HARRY THE HAGGLER: No, no, no, no. It's not worth ten. You're supposed to argue, 'Ten for that? You must be mad!' Ohh, well. [sniff] One born every minute.
FRANCIS: And Brian.
REG: And Brian.
LORETTA: And Brian.
REG: I now propose that all seven of these ex-brothers be now entered in the minutes as probationary martyrs to the cause.
LORETTA: I second that, Reg.
REG: Thank you, Loretta. On the nod. Siblings! [thump] Let us not be down-hearted. One total catastrophe like this is just the beginning! Their glorious deaths shall unite us all in a--
MATTHIAS: Look out!
BRIAN: Hello? Matthias! Reg!
REG: Go away!
BRIAN: Hm? Reg, it's me, Brian!
REG: Get off! Get off out of it!
LORETTA: Piss off.
COMMANDO: Yeah, piss off!
REG: Bugger off. [bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam] Ohh,... [bam bam bam bam bam] ...shit! [bam]
[bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam]
[bam bam bam bam bam bam]
BORING PROPHET: Yea, verily, at that time, it is written in the book of Obadiah. A man shall strike his donkey and his nephew's donkey and anyone... [crack] ...in the vicinity... [creak crack] ...of his nephew or the donkey.
MATTHIAS: My eyes are dim. I cannot see.
CENTURION: Are you Matthias?
CENTURION: We have reason to believe you may be hiding one Brian of Nazareth, a member of the terrorist organisation, the 'People's Front of Judea'.
MATTHIAS: Me? No. I'm just a poor old man. I have no time for law- breakers. My legs are grey. My ears are gnarled. My eyes are old and bent.
CENTURION: Quiet! Silly person. Guards! Search the house. [clomp clomp clomp...] You know the penalty laid down by Roman law for harbouring a known criminal?
CENTURION: Nasty, eh?
MATTHIAS: Hm. Could be worse.
CENTURION: What do you mean, 'could be worse'?
MATTHIAS: Well, you could be stabbed.
CENTURION: Stabbed? Takes a second. Crucifixion lasts hours! It's a slow, horrible death!
MATTHIAS: Well, at least it gets you out in the open air.
CENTURION: You're weird.
[clomp clomp clomp...]
SERGEANT: No, sir. Couldn't find anything, sir.
CENTURION: But don't worry! You've not seen the last of us, weirdo.
MATTHIAS: Big Nose.
CENTURION: Watch it.
MATTHIAS: Phew, that was lucky.
BRIAN: I'm sorry, Reg.
REG: Ohhh, it's all right, siblings. He's sorry. He's sorry he led the Fifth Legion straight to our official headquarters. Well, that's all right, then, Brian. Sit down. Have a scone. Make yourself at home. You klutz! You stupid, bird-brained, flat-headed--
[bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam bam]
BORING PROPHET: ...this great, big, juicy melon behind.
[bam bam bam bam bam bam]
MATTHIAS: My legs are old and bent. My ears are grizzled. Yes?
CENTURION: There's one place we didn't look. Guards!
MATTHIAS: I'm just a poor old man. [clomp clomp clomp...] My eyesight is bad. My eyes are poor. My nose is knackered.
CENTURION: Have you ever seen anyone crucified?
MATTHIAS: Crucifixion's a doddle.
CENTURION: Don't keep saying that.
[clomp clomp clomp...]
SERGEANT: Found this spoon, sir.
CENTURION: Well done, Sergeant! We'll be back, oddball. [bam bam bam bam bam] Open up!
MATTHIAS: You haven't given us time to hide. [crack crack]
BORING PROPHET: ...The nephew or the donkey. [whap] Wha! Woooah! [fwump]
[clap clap clap]
FALSE PROPHET: ...And, a nine-bladed sword, which he shall strike...
BLOOD & THUNDER PROPHET: ...Time when we all come together, and go...
PROPHET IN WHITE: ...And holes for the...
PROPHET IN BLACK: ...Jumbo jets...
PROPHET IN WHITE: ...every bitch how you got germs from...
PROPHET IN BLACK: ...fly up near the...
BRIAN: Don't you, eh, pass judgment on other people, or you might get judged yourself.
BRIAN: I said, 'Don't pass judgment on other people, or else you might get judged, too.'
COLIN: Who, me?
COLIN: Oh. Ooh. Thank you very much.
BRIAN: Well, not just you. All of you.
DENNIS: That's a nice gourd.
DENNIS: How much do you want for the gourd?
BRIAN: I don't. You can have it.
DENNIS: Have it?
BRIAN: Yes. Consider the lilies...
DENNIS: Eh, d-- d-- don't you want to haggle?
BRIAN: No. ...in the field.
DENNIS: What's wrong with it, then?
BRIAN: Nothing. Take it.
ELSIE: Consider the lilies?
BRIAN: Uh, well, the birds, then.
EDDIE: What birds?
BRIAN: Any birds.
BRIAN: Well, have they got jobs?
BRIAN: The birds.
EDDIE: Have the birds got jobs?!
FRANK: What's the matter with him?
ARTHUR: He says the birds are scrounging.
BRIAN: Oh, uhh, no, the point is the birds. They do all right. Don't they?
FRANK: Well, good luck to 'em.
EDDIE: Yeah. They're very pretty.
BRIAN: Okay, and you're much more important than they are, right? So, what are you worrying about? There you are. See?
EDDIE: I'm worrying about what you have got against birds.
BRIAN: I haven't got anything against the birds. Consider the lilies.
ARTHUR: He's having a go at the flowers now.
EDDIE: Oh, give the flowers a chance.
DENNIS: I'll give you one for it.
BRIAN: It's yours.
DENNIS: Two, then.
BRIAN: Ohh. Look. There was this man, and he had two servants.
ARTHUR: What were they called?
ARTHUR: What were their names?
BRIAN: I don't know. And he gave them some talents.
EDDIE: You don't know?!
BRIAN: Well, it doesn't matter!
ARTHUR: He doesn't know what they were called!
BRIAN: Oh, they were called 'Simon' and 'Adrian'. Now--
ARTHUR: Oh! You said you didn't know!
BRIAN: It really doesn't matter. The point is there were these two servants--
ARTHUR: He's making it up as he goes along.
BRIAN: No, I'm not! ...And he gave them some ta-- Wait a minute. Were there three?
EDDIE: Oh, he's terrible!
ARTHUR: He's terrible.
BRIAN: There were three.
BRIAN: They were-- they were st-- stewards, really.
ELSIE: Aww, get off!
BRIAN: Ooh! Eh, uh, b-- b-- now-- now hear this! Blessed are they...
BRIAN: ...who convert their neighbour's ox, for they shall inhibit their girth,...
BRIAN: ...and to them only shall be given-- to them only... shall... be... given...
ELSIE: Shall be given what?
BRIAN: Oh, nothing.
ELSIE: Hey! What were you going to say?
ARTHUR and FRANK: Yes, you were.
ELSIE: Yes. You were going to say something.
BRIAN: No, I wasn't. I'd finished.
ELSIE: Oh, no you weren't.
ARTHUR: Oh, come on. Tell us before you go.
BRIAN: I wasn't going to say anything. I'd finished.
ELSIE: No, you hadn't.
BLIND MAN: What won't he tell?
EDDIE: He won't say.
BLIND MAN: Is it a secret?
BLIND MAN: Is it?
EDDIE: Must be. Otherwise, he'd tell us.
ARTHUR: Oh, tell us the secret.
BRIAN: Leave me alone.
YOUTH: What is this secret?
GIRL: Is it the secret of eternal life?
EDDIE: He won't say!
ARTHUR: Well, of course not. If I knew the secret of eternal life, I wouldn't say.
BRIAN: Leave me alone.
GIRL: Just tell me, please.
ARTHUR: No. Tell us, Master. We were here first.
GIRL: Just tell--
BRIAN: Go away!
GIRL: Tell us, Master.
DENNIS: I can't go above five.
GIRL: Tell-- Is that His gourd?
YOUTH: We've got this here.
DENNIS: Yeah, but it's under offer.
GIRL: This is His gourd!
GIRL: It is His gourd! We will carry it for you, Master! Master?
YOUTH: He's gone! He's been taken up!
FOLLOWERS: For He's been taken up!
ARTHUR: No, there He is. Over there.
FOLLOWERS: Oh, yeah. Master! Master!...
[FOLLOWERS chase BRIAN]
FOLLOWERS: Oh! Oh! Ohh! Oh! Ah! Oh!
ARTHUR: He has given us a sign!
SHOE FOLLOWER: He has given us... His shoe!
ARTHUR: The shoe is the sign. Let us follow His example.
ARTHUR: Let us, like Him, hold up one shoe and let the other be upon our foot, for this is His sign, that all who follow Him shall do likewise.
SHOE FOLLOWER: No, no, no. The shoe is...
SHOE FOLLOWER: ...a sign that we must gather shoes together in abundance.
GIRL: Cast off...
SPIKE: Aye. What?
GIRL: ...the shoes! Follow the Gourd!
SHOE FOLLOWER: No! Let us gather shoes together!
SHOE FOLLOWER: Let me!
ELSIE: Oh, get off!
YOUTH: No, no! It is a sign that, like Him, we must think not of the things of the body, but of the face and head!
SHOE FOLLOWER: Give me your shoe!
YOUTH: Get off!
GIRL: Follow the Gourd! The Holy Gourd of Jerusalem!
FOLLOWER: The Gourd!
HARRY: Hold up the sandal, as He has commanded us!
ARTHUR: It is a shoe! It is a shoe!
HARRY: It's a sandal!
ARTHUR: No, it isn't!
GIRL: Cast it away!
ARTHUR: Put it on!
YOUTH: And clear off!
SHOE FOLLOWER: Take the shoes and follow Him!
GIRL: ...all ye who call yourself Gourdenes!
SPIKE: Stop! Stop! Stop, I say! Stop! Let us-- let us pray. Yea, He cometh to us, like the seed to the grain.
FOLLOWERS: Master! Master!...
BRIAN: Hey! Is there another way down? Is there another path down to the river?
SIMON THE HOLY MAN: Mmmmmmm.
BRIAN: Please! Please help me! I've got to get--
SIMON: Mm. [whump] Oh, my foot! Oh!
SIMON: Oh, damn, damn, damn!
BRIAN: Well, I'm sorry. Shhh.
SIMON: Oh, damn, damn, and blast it!
BRIAN: I'm sorry. Shhhh!
SIMON: Don't you 'shhhh' me. Eighteen years of total silence, and you 'shhhh' me!
SIMON: I've kept my vow for eighteen years. Not a single, recognizable, articulate sound has passed my lips.
BRIAN: Oh, please. Could you be quiet for another five minutes?
SIMON: Oh, it doesn't matter now. I might as well enjoy myself. The times in the last eighteen years I've wanted to shout and sing and...
SIMON: ...scream my name out! Oh, I'm alive!
SIMON: Hava Nagila!
SIMON: Hava Nagila! Hava Nagila, ha ha ha! Look out. Oh, I'm alive! I'm alive! Hello birds! Hello trees! I'm alive! Get off. I'm alive! Hava Nagila. Hava the relinq--
FOLLOWERS: Master! The Master! Master! Master!...
SHOE FOLLOWER: The Master! Aha. He is here!
FOLLOWERS: The shoe!...
ARTHUR: The shoe has brought us here!
ARTHUR and HARRY: Speak!
ARTHUR and HARRY: Speak to us, Master! Speak to us!
BRIAN: Go away!
FOLLOWERS: A blessing! A blessing!
ARTHUR: How shall we go away, Master?!
BRIAN: Oh, just go away! Leave me alone!
SHOE FOLLOWER: Give us a sign!
ARTHUR: He has given us a sign! He has brought us to this place!
BRIAN: I didn't bring you here! You just followed me!
SHOE FOLLOWER: Oh, it's still a good sign by any standard.
ARTHUR: Master! Your people have walked many miles to be with You! They are weary and have not eaten.
BRIAN: It's not my fault they haven't eaten!
ARTHUR: There is no food in this high mountain!
BRIAN: Well, what about the juniper bushes over there?
FOLLOWERS: Hhhh! A miracle! A miracle! Ohh!...
SHOE FOLLOWER: He has made the bush fruitful by His words.
YOUTH: They have brought forth juniper berries.
BRIAN: Of course they've brought forth juniper berries! They're juniper bushes! What do you expect?!
ELSIE: Show us another miracle!
ARTHUR: Do not tempt Him, shallow ones! Is not the miracle of the juniper bushes enough?!
SIMON: I say, those are my juniper bushes.
ARTHUR: They are a gift from God!
SIMON: They're all I've bloody got to eat. Uhm. I say, get off those bushes! Go on! Clear off, the lot of you. Go on.
HARRY: Lord! I am affected by a bald patch.
BLIND MAN: I am healed! The Master has healed me!
BRIAN: I didn't touch him!
BLIND MAN: I was blind and now I can see.Arrgghh. [whump]
FOLLOWERS: A miracle! A miracle! A miracle!
SIMON: Tell them to stop it. I hadn't said a word for eighteen years till he came along.
FOLLOWERS: A miracle! He is the Messiah!
SIMON: Well, he hurt my foot!
FOLLOWERS: Hurt my foot, Lord! Hurt my foot. Hurt mine...
ARTHUR: Hail Messiah!
BRIAN: I'm not the Messiah!
ARTHUR: I say You are, Lord, and I should know. I've followed a few.
FOLLOWERS: Hail Messiah!
BRIAN: I'm not the Messiah! Will you please listen? I am not the Messiah, do you understand?! Honestly!
GIRL: Only the true Messiah denies His divinity.
BRIAN: What?! Well, what sort of chance does that give me? All right! I am the Messiah!
FOLLOWERS: He is! He is the Messiah!
BRIAN: Now, f**k off!
ARTHUR: How shall we f**k off, O Lord?
BRIAN: Oh, just go away! Leave me alone.
SIMON: You told these people to eat my juniper berries. You break my bloody foot. You break my vow of silence, and then you try and clean up on my juniper bushes!
BRIAN: Oh, lay off!
ARTHUR: This is the Messiah, the Chosen One!
SIMON: No, he's not.
ARTHUR: An unbeliever!
FOLLOWERS: An unbeliever!
ARTHUR: Persecute! Kill the heretic!
FOLLOWERS: Kill the heretic! Kill him! Persecute! Kill!...
BRIAN: Leave him alone! Leave him alone! Leave him alone. Put him down. Please!
FOLLOWERS: Look! There he is! The Chosen One has woken!
[bam bam bam bam]
MANDY: Brian! [bam bam bam bam bam]
BRIAN: Huuh. Hooh. Ooh! Mother. Ooh. Ha--
BRIAN: Hang on, mother! Shhh. [clllunk] Hello, mother.
MANDY: Don't you 'hello mother' me. What are all those people doing out there?!
BRIAN: Oh. Well-- well, I, uh--
MANDY: Come on! What have you been up to, my lad?!
BRIAN: Well, uh, I think they must have popped by for something.
MANDY: 'Popped by'?! 'Swarmed by', more like! There's a multitude out there!
BRIAN: Mm, they-- they started following me yesterday.
MANDY: Well, they can stop following you right now. Now, stop following my son! You ought to be ashamed of yourselves.
FOLLOWERS: The Messiah! The Messiah! Show us the Messiah!
MANDY: The who?
FOLLOWERS: The Messiah!
MANDY: Huh, there's no Messiah in here. There's a mess, all right, but no Messiah. Now, go away!
FOLLOWERS: Brian! Brian!
MANDY: Right, my lad. What have you been up to?
BRIAN: Nothing, Mum. Um--
MANDY: Come on. Out with it.
BRIAN: Well, they think I'm the Messiah, Mum. [smack]
MANDY: Now, what have you been telling them?
BRIAN: Nothing! I only--
MANDY: You're only making it worse for yourself.
BRIAN: Look! I can explain! I-- [smack]
JUDITH: No! Let me explain, Mrs. Cohen!
JUDITH: Your son is a born leader. Those people out there are following him because they believe in him, Mrs. Cohen. They believe he can give them hope-- hope of a new life, a new world, a better future!
MANDY: Who's that?!
BRIAN: Oh! That's... Judith, Mum. Judith. Mother. Hmm. [smack] Aaaah!
FOLLOWERS: The Messiah! The Messiah!
FOLLOWERS: Show us the Messiah! The Messiah! The Messiah! Show us the Messiah!
MANDY: Now, you listen here! He's not the Messiah. He's a very naughty boy! Now, go away!
FOLLOWERS: Who are you?!
MANDY: I'm his mother. That's who.
FOLLOWERS: Behold His mother! Behold His mother! Hail to thee, mother of Brian! Blessed art thou, Hosanna! All praise to thee, now and always!
MANDY: Ohhh, now, don't think you can get around me like that. He's not coming out, and that's my final word. Now, shove off!
MANDY: Did you hear what I said?
MANDY: Oh, I see. It-- it's like that, is it?
MANDY: Ohh. Oh, all right, then. You can see him for one minute, but not one second more. Do you understand?
FOLLOWERS: Well, all right.
MANDY: All right. Here he is, then. Come on, Brian. Come and talk to them.
BRIAN: But, Mum. Judith.
MANDY: Now, leave that Welsh tart alone.
BRIAN: But I don't really want to, Mum.
FOLLOWERS: Brian! Brian! Brian!...
BRIAN: Good morning.
FOLLOWERS: A blessing! A blessing! A blessing!...
BRIAN: No. No, please! Please! Please listen. I've got one or two things to say.
FOLLOWERS: Tell us. Tell us both of them.
BRIAN: Look. You've got it all wrong. You don't need to follow me. You don't need to follow anybody! You've got to think for yourselves. You're all individuals!
FOLLOWERS: Yes, we're all individuals!
BRIAN: You're all different!
FOLLOWERS: Yes, we are all different!
DENNIS: I'm not.
FOLLOWERS: Shh. Shhhh. Shhh.
BRIAN: You've all got to work it out for yourselves!
FOLLOWERS: Yes! We've got to work it out for ourselves!
FOLLOWERS: Tell us more!
BRIAN: No! That's the point! Don't let anyone tell you what to do! Otherwise-- Ow! No!
MANDY: Come on, Brian. That's enough. That's enough.
FOLLOWERS: Oooooh. That wasn't a minute!
MANDY: Oh, yes, it was.
FOLLOWERS: Oh, no, it wasn't!
MANDY: Now, stop that, and go away!
YOUTH: Excuse me.
YOUTH: Are you a virgin?
MANDY: I beg your pardon!
YOUTH: Well, if it's not a personal question, are you a virgin?
MANDY: 'If it's not a personal question'? How much more personal can you get? Now, piss off!
YOUTH: She is.
FOLLOWERS: Yeah. Must be. She is. Definitely...
CROWD: Ooh. Oh! Oooh... [clunk]
REG: 'Morning, Saviour.
WOMAN: Lay Your hands on me. Quick!
FRANCIS: Now, don't jostle the Chosen One, please.
REG: Don't push that baby in the Saviour's face. You've got till later.
GREGORY: I say. I say, could He just see my wife? She has a headache.
REG: She'll have to wait, I'm afraid.
GREGORY: It's very bad, and we've got a luncheon appointment.
REG: Look, the lepers are queuing.
GREGORY: Her brother-in-law is the ex-mayor of Gath, you know.
REG: Uh, Brian, can I introduce the gentleman who's letting us have the Mounts on Sunday?
MR. PAPADOPOULOS: Hello.
FRANCIS: Don't push!
REG: And keep the noise down, please! Those possessed by devils, try and keep them under control a bit, can't you? Incurables, you'll just have to wait for a few minutes. Um, women taken in sin, line up against that wall, will you?
JUDITH: Brian? Brian, you were fantastic!
BRIAN: You weren't so bad yourself.
JUDITH: No, what you said just now-- it was quite extraordinary.
BRIAN: What? Oh, that. Was it?
JUDITH: We don't need any leaders. You're so right. Reg has been dominating us for too long.
BRIAN: Well, yes.
JUDITH: It needed saying, and you said it, Brian.
BRIAN: You're... very attractive.
JUDITH: It's our revolution! We can all do it together!
BRIAN: I think-- I think--
JUDITH: We're all behind you, Brian. The revolution is in your hands!
BRIAN: What? No! That's not what I meant at all!
CENTURION: You're fuckin' nicked, me old beauty. Right. [whap whap whap whap whap] [smack] Stop it.
PILATE: Well, Bwian, you've given us a good wun for our money.
BRIAN: A what? [slap] Aaagh.
PILATE: This time, I guawantee you will not escape. Guard, do we have any cwucifixions today?
GUARD #1: A hundred and thirty-nine, sir. Special celebration. Passover, sir.
PILATE: Wight. Now we have a hundwed and forty. Nice wound number, eh, Biggus?
BIGGUS DICKUS: Hm hm hm hm hm.
CENTURION: Hail Caesar!
CENTURION: The crowd outside is getting a bit restless, sir. Permission to disperse them, please.
PILATE: Disperse them? But I haven't addwessed them yet.
CENTURION: Ah, no. I know sir, but--
PILATE: My addwess is one of the high points of the Passover. My fwiend, Biggus Dickus, has come all the way fwom Wome just to hear it.
CENTURION: Hail Caesar.
BIGGUS: Hail Thaethar!
CENTURION: You're not-- ah, you're not, uh, thinking o-- of giving it a miss this year, then, sir?
PILATE: Give it a miss?
CENTURION: Well, it's just that they're in a rather funny mood today, sir.
PILATE: Weally, Centuwion? I'm surpwised to hear a man like you wattled by a wabble of wowdy webels.
CENTURION: A... bit thundery, sir.
PILATE: Take him away.
BRIAN: I'm a Roman! I-- I can prove it, honestly!
PILATE: And cwucify him well! Biggus.
CENTURION: Ah, I-- I really wouldn't, sir.
PILATE: Out of the way, Centuwion.
BIGGUS: Let me come with you, Pontiuth. I may be of thome athithtanth if there ith a thudden crithith.