Monty Python's Life of Brian

Brian ... the babe they called Brian
Grew ... grew grew and grew, grew up to be
A boy called Brian
A boy called Brian

He had arms and legs and hands and feet
This boy whose name was Brian
And he grew, grew, grew and grew
Grew up to be
Yes he grew up to be
A teenager called Brian
A teenager called Brian
And his face became spotty
Yes his face became spotty
And his voice dropped down low
And things started to grow
On young Brian and show
He was certainly no
No girl named Brian
Not a girl named Brian

And he started to shave
And have one off the wrist
And want to see girls
And go out and get pissed
This man called Brian
This man called Brian

Three camels are silhouetted against the bright stars of the
moonless sky, moving slowly along the horizon.  A star leads
them towards Bethlehem.  The Wise Men enter the gates of the
sleeping town and make their way through the deserted streets.
A dog snarls at them.  They approach a stable, out of which
streams a beam of light.  They dismount and enter to find a
typical manger scene, with a baby in a rough crib of straw and
patient animals standing around.  The mother nods by the side
of the child.  Suddenly she wakes from her lightish doze, sees
them, shrieks and falls backwards off her straw.  She's up
again in a flash, looking guardedly at them.  She is a ratbag.

Mandy:        Who are you?
Wise Man 1:   We are three wise men.
Wise Man 2:   We are astrologers.  We have come from the East.
Mandy:        Is this some kind of joke?
Wise Man 1:   We wish to praise the infant.
Wise Man 2:   We must pay homage to him.
Mandy:        Homage!!  You're all drunk you are.  It's disgusting.
	      Out, out!
Wise Man 3:   No, no.
Mandy:        Coming bursting in here first thing in the morning
	      with some tale about Oriental fortune tellers...
	      get out!
Wise Man 1:   No.  No we must see him.
Mandy:        Go and praise someone else's brat, go on.
Wise Man 2:   We were led by a star.
Mandy:        Led by a bottle, more like.  Get out!
Wise Man 2:   We must see him.  We have brought presents.
Mandy:        Out!
Wise Man 1:   Gold, frankincense, myrrh.

(her attitude changes immediately)

Mandy:        Well, why didn't you say so?  He's over here...Sorry
	      this place is a bit of a mess.  What is myrrh, anyway?
Wise Man 3:   It is a valuable balm.
Mandy:        A balm, what are you giving him a balm for?  It might
	      bite him.
Wise Man 3:   What?
Mandy:        It's a dangerous animal.  Quick, throw it in the trough.
Wise Man 3:   No it isn't.
Mandy:        Yes it is.
Wise Man 3:   No, no, it is an ointment.
Mandy:        An ointment?
Wise Man 3:   Look.
Mandy:        (sampling the ointment with a grubby finger)
	      Oh. There is an animal called a balm or did I dream it?
	      You astrologers, eh?  Well, what's he then?
Wise Man 2:   H'm?
Mandy:        What star sign is he?
Wise Man 2:   Capricorn.
Mandy:        Capricorn, eh, what are they like?
Wise Man 2:   He is the son of God, our Messiah.
Wise Man 1:   King of the Jews.
Mandy:        And that's Capricorn, is it?
Wise Man 3:   No, no, that's just him.
Mandy:        Oh, I was going to say, otherwise there'd be a lot of
	      them.

(The Wise Men are on their knees)

Wise Man 2:   By what name are you calling him?

(Dramatic Holy music)

Mandy:        Brian.
Three Wise Men:
	      We worship you, Oh, Brian, who are Lord over
	      us all.  Praise unto you, Brian and to the
	      Lord our Father.  Amen.
Mandy:        Do you do a lot of this, then?
Wise Man 1:   What?
Mandy:        This praising.
Wise Man 1:   No, no, no.
Mandy:        Oh!  Well, if you're dropping by again do pop in. (they
	      take the hint and rise)  And thanks a lot for the gold
	      and frankincense but...don't worry too much about the
	      myrrh next time.  Thank you...Goodbye.  (to Brian)
	      Well, weren't they nice...out of their bloody minds,
	      but still...

In the background we see the Wise Men pause outside another door
as a gentle glow suffuses them.  They look at each other, confer
and then stride back in and grab the presents from Mandy and turn
to go again, pushing Mandy over.

Mandy:        Here, here, that's mine, you just gave me that. Ow!

The Leper Scene

(As MANDY and BRIAN pass through the city gate, they attract a sort of
 muscular, fit and healthy young BEGGAR, who pursues them relentlessly through
 the busy streets.)
	EX-LEPER
     Spare a talent for an old ex-leper, sir.
	MANDY
(to EX-LEPER)
     Buzz off!
	EX-LEPER
(The EX-LEPER has come round to BRIAN's side.)
     Spare a talent for an old ex-leper, sir.
	BRIAN
     Did you say -- ex-leper?
	EX-LEPER
     That's right, sir.  (he salutes)  ... sixteen years behind the bell, and
     proud of it, thank you sir.
	BRIAN
     What happened?
	EX-LEPER
     I was cured, sir.
	BRIAN
     Cured?
	EX-LEPER
     Yes sir, a bloody miracle, sir.  Bless you.
	BRIAN
     Who cured you?
	EX-LEPER
     Jesus did.  I was hopping along, when suddenly he comes and cures me.
     One minute I'm a leper with a trade, next moment me livelihood's gone.
     Not so much as a by your leave.
(gestures in the manner of a conjuror)
     You're cured mate, sod you.
	MANDY
     Go away.
	EX-LEPER
     Look.  I'm not saying that being a leper was a bowl of cherries.  But it
     was a living.  I mean, you try waving muscular suntanned limbs in people's
     faces demanding compassion.  It's a bloody disaster.
	MANDY
     You could go and get yourself a decent job, couldn't you?
	EX-LEPER
     Look, sir, my family has been in begging six generations.  I'm not about
     to become a goat-herd, just because some long-haired conjuror starts
     mucking about. (makes gesture again)
     Just like that.  "You're cured."  Bloody do-gooder!
	BRIAN
     Well, why don't you go and tell him you want to be a leper again?
	EX-LEPER
     Ah yeah, I could do that, sir yes, I suppose I could.  What I was going
     to do was ask him if he could ... you know, just make me a bit lame in one
     leg during the week, you know, something beggable, but not leprosy, which
     is a pain in the arse to be quite blunt, sir, excuse my French but ...
(They have reached BRIAN and MANDY's house.  MANDY goes in.  BRIAN gives the
 BEGGAR a coin.)
	BRIAN
     There you are.
	EX-LEPER
     Thank you sir ... half a denary for my bloody life story!
	BRIAN
     There's no pleasing some people
	EX-LEPER
     That's just what Jesus said.

The Inalienable Rights Scene

(A huge Roman amphitheatre sparsely attended.  REG, FRANCIS, STAN and JUDITH
 are seated in the stands.  They speak conspiratorially.)

	JUDITH
     ... Any Anti-Imperialist group like ours must *reflect* such a divergence
     of interests within its power-base.
	REG
     Agreed.
(General nodding.)
     Francis?
	FRANCIS
     I think Judith's point of view is valid here, Reg, provided the Movement
     never forgets that it is the inalienable right of every man ...
	STAN
     Or woman.
	FRANCIS
     Or woman ... to rid himself ...
	STAN
     Or herself.
	REG
     Or herself.  Agreed.  Thank you, brother.
	STAN
     Or sister.
	FRANCIS
     Thank you, brother.  Or sister.  Where was I?
	REG
     I thought you'd finished.
	FRANCIS
     Oh, did I?  Right.
	REG
     Furthermore, it is the birthright of every man ...
	STAN
     Or woman.
	REG
     Why don't you shut up about women, Stan, you're putting us off.
	STAN
     Women have a perfect right to play a part in our movement, Reg.
	FRANCIS
     Why are you always on about women, Stan?
	STAN
     ... I want to be one.
	REG
     ... What?
	STAN
     I want to be a woman.  From now on I want you all to call me Loretta.
	REG
     What!?
	STAN
     It's my right as a man.
	JUDITH
     Why do you want to be Loretta, Stan?
	STAN
     I want to have babies.
	REG
     You want to have babies?!?!?!
	STAN
     It's every man's right to have babies if he wants them.
	REG
     But you can't have babies.
	STAN
     Don't you oppress me.
	REG
     I'm not oppressing you, Stan -- you haven't got a womb.  Where's the
     fetus going to gestate?  You going to keep it in a box?
(STAN starts crying.)
	JUDITH
     Here!  I've got an idea.  Suppose you agree that he can't actually have
     babies, not having a womb, which is nobody's fault, not even the Romans',
     but that he can have the *right* to have babies.
	FRANCIS
     Good idea, Judith.  We shall fight the oppressors for your right to have
     babies, brother.  Sister, sorry.
	REG
     What's the point?
	FRANCIS
     What?
	REG
     What's the point of fighting for his right to have babies, when he can't
     have babies?
	FRANCIS
     It is symbolic of our struggle against oppression.
	REG
     It's symbolic of his struggle against reality.


The Front's Demands Scene

(The interior of MATTHIAS'S HOUSE.  A cellar-like room with a very
 conspiratorial atmosphere.  REG and STAN are seated at a table at one end of
 the room.  FRANCIS, dressed in commando gear -- black robes and a red sash
 around his head -- is standing by a plan on the wall.  He is addressing an
 audience of about eight MASKED COMMANDOS.  Their faces are partially hidden.)

	FRANCIS
     We get in through the underground heating system here ... up through to
     the main audience chamber here ... and Pilate's wife's bedroom is here.
     Having grabbed his wife, we inform Pilate that she is in our custody and
     forthwith issue our demands.  Any questions?
	COMMANDO XERXES
     What exactly are the demands?
	REG
     We're giving Pilate two days to dismantle the entire apparatus of the
     Roman Imperialist State and if he doesn't agree immediately we execute her.

	MATTHIAS
     Cut her head of?
	FRANCIS
     Cut all her bits off, send 'em back every hour on the hour ... show him
     we're not to be trifled with.
	REG
     Also, we're demanding a ten foot mahogany statue of the Emperor Julius
     Caesar with his cock hanging out.
	STAN
     What?  They'll never agree to that, Reg.
	REG
     That's just a bargaining counter.  And of course, we point out that they
     bear full responsibility when we chop her up, AND ... that we shall NOT
     submit to blackmail.
	ALL
     (Applause) No blackmail!!!!
	REG
     They've bled us white, the bastards.  They've taken everything we had,
     not just from us, from our fathers and from our fathers' fathers.
	STAN
     And from our fathers' fathers' fathers.
	REG
     Yes.
	STAN
     And from our fathers' fathers' fathers' fathers.
	REG
     All right, Stan.  Don't labour the point.  And what have they ever given
     us IN RETURN?  (he pauses smugly)
	XERXES
     The aqueduct?
	REG
     What?
	XERXES
     The aqueduct.
	REG
     Oh yeah, yeah they gave us that.  Yeah.  That's true.
	MASKED COMMANDO
     And the sanitation!
	STAN
     Oh yes ... sanitation, Reg, you remember what the city used to be like.
	REG
     All right, I'll grant you that the aqueduct and the sanitation are two
     things that the Romans HAVE done ...
	MATTHIAS
     And the roads ...
	REG
     (sharply) Well YES OBVIOUSLY the roads ... the roads go without saying.
     But apart from the aqueduct, the sanitation and the roads ...
	ANOTHER MASKED COMMANDO
     Irrigation ...
	OTHER MASKED VOICES
     Medicine ... Education ... Health
	REG
     Yes ... all right, fair enough ...
	COMMANDO NEARER THE FRONT
     And the wine ...
	GENERAL
     Oh yes!  True!
	FRANCIS
     Yeah.  That's something we'd really miss if the Romans left, Reg.
	MASKED COMMANDO AT BACK
     Public baths!
	STAN
     AND it's safe to walk in the streets at night now.
	FRANCIS
     Yes, they certainly know how to keep order ...
     (general nodding)
     ... let's face it, they're the only ones who could in a place like this.
     (more general murmurs of agreement)
	REG
     All right ... all right ... but apart from better sanitation and medicine
     and education and irrigation and public health and roads and a freshwater
     system and baths and public order ... what HAVE the Romans done for US?
	XERXES
     Brought peace!
	REG
     (very angry, he's not having a good meeting at all)
     What!?  Oh ... (scornfully) Peace, yes ... shut up!

Latin Lesson

Brian is writing a slogan to a wall, oblivious to the Roman patrol approaching 
from behind. The slogan is "ROMANES EUNT DOMUS".

C: What's this thing?
   "ROMANES EUNT DOMUS"?
   "People called Romanes they go the house"?
B: It, it says "Romans go home".
C: No it doesn't. What's Latin for "Roman"?
B: (hesitates)
C: Come on, come on!
B: (uncertain) "ROMANUS".
C: Goes like?
B: "-ANUS".
C: Vocative plural of "-ANUS" is?
B: "-ANI".
C: (takes paintbrush from Brian and paints over) "RO-MA-NI".
   "EUNT"? What is "EUNT"?
B: "Go".
C: Conjugate the verb "to go"!
B: "IRE". "EO", "IS", "IT", "IMUS", "ITIS", "EUNT".
C: So "EUNT" is ...?
B: Third person plural present indicative, "they go".
C: But "Romans, go home!" is an order, so you must use the ...?
   (lifts Brian by his hairs)
B: The ... imperative.
C: Which is?
B: Ahm, oh, oh, "I", "I"!
C: How many romans? (pulls harder)
B: Plural, plural! "ITE".
C: (strikes over "EUNT" and paints "ITE" to the wall)
   (satisfied) "I-TE".
   "DOMUS"? Nominative? "Go home", this is motion towards, isn't it, boy?
B: (very anxious) Dative?
C: (draws his sword and holds it to Brian's throat)
B: Ahh! No, ablative, ablative, sir. No, the, accusative, accusative,
   ah, DOMUM, sir.
C: Except that "DOMUS" takes the ...?
B: ... the locative, sir!
C: Which is?
B: "DOMUM".
C: (satisfied) "DOMUM" (strikes out "DOMUS" and writes "DOMUM") "-MUM".
   Understand?
B: Yes sir.
C: Now write it down a hundred times. 
B: Yes sir, thank you sir, hail Caesar, sir.
C: (salutes) Hail Caesar.
   If it's not done by sunrise, I'll cut your balls off.
B: (very reliefed) Oh thank you sir, thank you sir, hail Caesar and
   everything, sir!

The Brian in Jail Scene

(BRIAN wakes up with a smile on his face to find himself being dragged along a
 cell corridor by TWO GUARDS.  The horrible figure of the JAILER spits at him
 and flings him into a dark damp cell, slamming the iron grate behind him and
 turning the key hollowly in the lock.  BRIAN slumps to the floor.  A voice
 comes out of the darkness behind him.)
	BEN
     You LUCKY bastard!
	BRIAN
     (spins around and peers into the gloom)
     Who's that?
	BEN
(In the darkness BRIAN just makes out an emaciated figure, suspended on the
 wall, with his feet off the ground, by chains round his wrists.  This is BEN.)
     You lucky, lucky bastard.
	BRIAN
     What?
	BEN
     (with great bitterness) Proper little gaoler's pet, aren't we?
	BRIAN
     (ruffled) 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 nights dreaming of being spat in the face.
	BRIAN
     Well, it's not exactly friendly, is it?  They had me in manacles ...
	BEN
     Manacles!  Oooh.
     (his eyes go quite dreamy)
     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 of your arse, sonny!
	BRIAN
     Listen!  They beat me up before they threw me in here.
	BEN
     Oh yeah?  The only day they don't beat me up is on my birthday.
	BRIAN
     Oh shut up.
	BEN
     Well, your type makes me sick!  You come in here, you get treated like
     Royalty, and everyone outside thinks you're a bloody martyr.
	BRIAN
     Oh, lay off me ... I've had a hard time!
	BEN
     YOU'VE had a hard time!  Listen, sonny!  I've been here five years and
     they only hung me the right way up yesterday!
	BRIAN
     All right!  All right!
	BEN
     I just wish I had half your luck.  They must think you're Lord God
     Almighty!
	BRIAN
     What'll they do to me?
	BEN
     Oh, you'll probably get away with crucifixion.
	BRIAN
     Crucifixion!
	BEN
     Yeah, first offence.
	BRIAN
     Get away with crucifixion!
	BEN
     Best thing the Romans ever did for us.
	BRIAN
     (incredulous)  What?
	BEN
     Oh yeah.  If we didn't have crucifixion this country would be in a right
     bloody mess I tell you.
	BRIAN
     (who can stand it no longer)  Guard!
	BEN
     Nail 'em up I say!
	BRIAN
     (dragging himself over to the door)  Guard!
	BEN
     Nail some sense into them!
	GUARD
     (looking through the bars)  What do you want?
	BRIAN
     I want to be moved to another cell.
     (GUARD spits in his face.)
	BRIAN
     Oh!  (he recoils in helpless disgust)
	BEN
     Oh ... look at that!  Bloody favouritism!
	GUARD
     Shut up, you!
	BEN
     Sorry!  Sorry!
     (he lowers his voice)
     Now take my case.  I've been here five years, and every night they take
     me down for ten 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 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.
	BRIAN
     Me?
	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.
(He laughs.  The TWO SOLDIERS smirk.  BEN laughs uproariously.)
	BEN
     ... Nice one, centurion.  Like it, like it.
	CENTURION
     (to BEN)  Shut up!  (BRIAN is hustled out.  The door slams.)
	BEN
     Terrific race the Romans ... terrific.

The Pilate's Chamber Scene

(BRIAN is hauled into PILATE'S audience chamber.  It is big and impressive,
 although a certain amount of redecorating is underway.  The CENTURION salutes.)

	CENTURION
     Hail Caesar.
	PILATE
     Hail Caesar.
	CENTURION
     Only one survivor, sir.
	PILATE
     Thwow him to the floor.
	CENTURION
     What sir?
	PILATE
     Thwow him to the floor.
	CENTURION
     Ah!
(He indicates to the two roman GUARDS who throw BRIAN to the ground.)
	PILATE
     Now, what is your name, Jew?
	BRIAN
     Brian.
	PILATE
     Bwian, eh?
	BRIAN  (trying to be helpful)
     No, *BRIAN*.
(The CENTURION cuffs him.)
	PILATE
     The little wascal has spiwit.
	CENTURION
     Has what, sir?
	PILATE
     *SPIWIT*.
	CENTURION
     Yes, he did, sir.
	PILATE
     No, no, spiwit ... bwavado ... a touch of dewwing-do.
	CENTURION  (still not really understanding)
     Ah.  About eleven, sir.
	PILATE  (to BRIAN)
     So you dare to waid us.
	BRIAN  (rising to his feet)
     To what?
	PILATE
     Stwike him, centuwion, vewwy woughly.
	CENTURION
     And throw him to the floor, sir?
	PILATE
     What?
	CENTURION
     THWOW him to the floor again, sir?
	PILATE
     Oh yes.  Thwow him to the floor.
(The CENTURION knocks BRIAN hard on the side of the head again and the TWO
 GUARDS throw him to the floor.)
	PILATE
     Now, Jewish wapscallion.
	BRIAN
     I'm not Jewish ... I'm a Roman!
	PILATE
     *WOMAN*?
	BRIAN
     No, *ROMAN*.
(But he's not quick enough to avoid another blow from the CENTURION.)
	PILATE
     So, your father was a *WOMAN*.  Who was he?
	BRIAN  (proudly)
     He was a centurion in the Jerusalem Garrison.
	PILATE
     Oh.  What was his name?
	BRIAN
     Nortius Maximus.
(An involuntary titter arises from the CENTURION.)
	PILATE
     Centuwion, do we have anyone of that name in the gawwison?
	CENTURION
     Well ... no sir.
	PILATE
     You sound vewwy sure ... have you checked?
	CENTURION
     Well ... no sir ... I think it's a joke, sir ... like ... Sillius Soddus
     or ... Biggus Dickus.
	PILATE
     What's so funny about Biggus Dickus?
	CENTURION
     Well ... it's a ... joke name, sir.
	PILATE
     I have a vewwy gweat fwend in Wome called Biggus Dickus.
(Involuntary laughter from a nearby GUARD surprises PILATE.)
	PILATE
     Silence!  What is all this insolence?  You will find yourself in
     gladiator school vewwy quickly with wotten behaviour like that.
(The GUARD tries to stop giggling.  PILATE turns away from him.  He is angry.)
	BRIAN
     Can I go now sir ...
(The CENTURION strikes him.)
	PILATE
     Wait till Biggus hears of this!
(The GUARD immediately breaks up again.  PILATE turns on him.)
	PILATE
     Wight!  Centuwion ... take him away.
	CENTURION
     Oh sir, he only ...
	PILATE
     I want him fighting wabid wild animals within a week.
	CENTURION
     Yes, sir.
(He starts to drag out the wretched GUARD.  BRIAN notices that little
 attention is being paid to him.)
	PILATE
     I will not have my fwends widiculed by the common soldiewy.
(He walks slowly towards the other GUARDS.)
	PILATE
     Now ... anyone else feel like a little giggle when I mention my fwend ...
(He goes right up to one of the GUARDS.)
     Biggus ... Dickus.  He has a wife you know.
(The GUARDS tense up.)
     Called Incontinentia.
(The GUARDS relax.)
     Incontinentia Buttocks!
(The GUARDS fall about laughing.  BRIAN takes advantage of the chaos to slip
 away.)
	PILATE
     Silence!  I've had enough of this wowdy wabble webel behaviour.  Stop it!
     Call yourselves Pwaetonian guards.  Silence!
(But the GUARDS are all hysterical by now.  PILATE notices BRIAN escaping.)
	PILATE
     You cwowd of cwacking-up cweeps.  Seize him!  Blow your noses and seize
     him!  Oh my bum.

The Market Haggling Scene

(After BRIAN has escaped the CENTURIONS, he runs off towards the crowded
 market square.  At one end of the market there is a speakers' corner, with
 many strangely bearded and oddly dressed PROPHETS attempting to attract an
 audience.  The noisiest or the most controversial are clearly doing best at
 attracting PASSERS-BY.  A STRANGE FIGURE with a rasta hairstyle, covered in
 mud, and with two severed hands on a pole waves wildly at the audience.)
	BLOOD & THUNDER PROPHET
     ... and shall ride forth on a serpents' back, and the eyes shall be red
     with the blood of living creatures, and the whore of Babylon shall rise
     over the hill of excitement and throughout the land there will be a great
     rubbing of parts ...
(Beside him, another PROPHET with red hair, none the less fierce, is trying to
 attract some of the BLOOD & THUNDER PROPHET'S audience.)
	FALSE PROPHET
     And he shall bear a nine-bladed sword.  Nine-bladed.  Not two.  Or five
     or seven, but nine, which he shall wield on all wretched sinners and that
     includes you sir, and the horns shall be on the head ...
(In front of each PROPHET is a ROMAN GUARD, clearly bored but there to break
 up any trouble.  BRIAN races into the market place.  A cohort of ROMANS are
 searching the square roughly turning over baskets and shaking down PASSERS-BY.
 BRIAN appears near a rather dull little PROPHET, who is standing underneath
 the high window that backs out of MATTHIAS' house, the revolutionary HQ.
	BORING PROPHET
     And there shall in that time be rumours of things going astray, and there
     will be a great confusion as to where things really are, and nobody will
     really know where lieth those little things with the sort of raffia work
     base, that has an attachment they will not be there.
(Across the square the ROMANS appear, searching.  BRIAN spots HARRY, the beard
 salesman and moves towards his stall, an idea forming in his mind.)
(The BORING PROPHET drones on and on.)
	BORING PROPHET
     At this time a friend shall lose his friends'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 ...
(BRIAN runs up to HARRY the beard seller's stall and hurriedly grabs an
 artificial beard.)
	BRIAN
     How much?  Quick!
	HARRY
     What?
	BRIAN
     It's for the wife.
	HARRY
     Oh.  Twenty shekels.
	BRIAN
     Right.
	HARRY
     What?
	BRIAN
     (as he puts down 20 shekels)  There you are.
	HARRY
     Wait a moment.
	BRIAN
     What?
	HARRY
     We're supposed to haggle.
	BRIAN
     No, no, I've got to ...
	HARRY
     What do you mean, no?
	BRIAN
     I haven't time, I've got to get ...
	HARRY
     Give it back then.
	BRIAN
     No, no, I paid you.
	HARRY
     Burt!  (BURT appears.  He is very big.)
	BURT
     Yeah!
	HARRY
     This bloke won't haggle.
	BURT
     (looking around)  Where are the guards?
	BRIAN
     Oh, all right ... I mean do we have to ...
	HARRY
     Now I want twenty for that ...
	BRIAN
     I gave you twenty.
	HARRY
     Now are you telling me that's not worth twenty shekels?
	BRIAN
     No.
	HARRY
     Feel the quality, that's none of yer goat.
	BRIAN
     Oh ... I'll give you nineteen then.
	HARRY
     No, no.  Do it properly.
	BRIAN
     What?
	HARRY
     Haggle properly.  This isn't worth nineteen.
	BRIAN
     You just said it was worth twenty.
	HARRY
     Burt!!
	BRIAN
     I'll give you ten.
	HARRY
     That's more like it.  (outraged)  Ten!?  Are you trying to insult me?
     Me?  With a poor dying grandmother ... Ten!?!
	BRIAN
     Eleven.
	HARRY
     Now you're getting it.  Eleven!?!  Did I hear you right?  Eleven?  This
     cost me twelve.  You want to ruin me.
	BRIAN
     Seventeen.
	HARRY
     Seventeen!
	BRIAN
     Eighteen?
	HARRY
     No, no, no.  You go to fourteen now.
	BRIAN
     Fourteen.
	HARRY
     Fourteen, are you joking?
	BRIAN
     That's what you told me to say.
(HARRY registers total despair.)
     Tell me what to say.  Please.
	HARRY
     Offer me fourteen.
	BRIAN
     I'll give you fourteen.
	HARRY
     (to onlookers)  He's offering me fourteen for this!
	BRIAN
     Fifteen.
	HARRY
     Seventeen.  My last word.  I won't take a penny less, or strike me dead.
	BRIAN
     Sixteen.
	HARRY
     Done.  (He grasps BRIAN'S hand and shakes it.)  Nice to do business with
     you.  Tell you what, I'll throw in this as well.  (He gives BRIAN a gourd.)

	BRIAN
     I don't want it but thanks.
	HARRY
     Burt!
	BURT
     (appearing rapidly)  Yes?
	BRIAN
     All right!  All right!!  Thank you.
	HARRY
     Where's the sixteen then?
	BRIAN
     I already gave you twenty.
	HARRY
     Oh yes ... that's four I owe you then.  (starts looking for change)
	BRIAN
     ... It's all right, it doesn't matter.
	HARRY
     Hang on.
(Pause as HARRY can't find change.  BRIAN sees a pair of prowling ROMANS.)
	BRIAN
     It's all right, that's four for the gourd -- that's fine!
	HARRY
     Four for the gourd.  Four!!!!  Look at it, that's worth ten if it's worth
     a shekel.
	BRIAN
     You just gave it to me for nothing.
	HARRY
     Yes, but it's *worth* ten.
	BRIAN
     All right, all right.
	HARRY
     No, no, no.  It's not worth ten.  You're supposed to argue.  "What?  Ten
     for that, you must be mad!"
(BRIAN pays ten, runs off with the gourd, and fixes the beard on his face.)
     Ah, well there's one born every minute.

Always Look on the Bright Side of Life

Cheer up, Brian.  You know what they say.
Some things in life are bad,
They can really make you mad.
Other things just make you swear and curse.
When you're chewing on life's gristle,
Don't grumble, give a whistle!
And this'll help things turn out for the best...
And...

(the music fades into the song)

..always look on the bright side of life!
(whistle)

Always look on the bright side of life...
If life seems jolly rotten,
There's something you've forgotten!
And that's to laugh and smile and dance and sing,

When you're feeling in the dumps,
Don't be silly chumps,
Just purse your lips and whistle -- that's the thing!
And... always look on the bright side of life...

(whistle)
Come on!

(other start to join in)
Always look on the bright side of life...
(whistle)

For life is quite absurd,
And death's the final word.
You must always face the curtain with a bow!
Forget about your sin -- give the audience a grin,
Enjoy it -- it's the last chance anyhow!

So always look on the bright side of death!
Just before you draw your terminal breath.
Life's a piece of shit,
When you look at it.

Life's a laugh and death's a joke, it's true,
You'll see it's all a show,
Keep 'em laughing as you go.
Just remember that the last laugh is on you!

And always look on the bright side of life...
(whistle)
Always look on the bright side of life
(whistle)