Pilate's addwess



[trumpets]

CROWD:

[cheering]

PILATE:

People of Jewusalem!

CROWD:

[chuckling]

PILATE:

Wome is your fwiend.

CROWD:

[laughing]

PILATE:

To pwove our fwiendship, it is customawy at this time to welease a wongdoer fwom our pwisons.

CROWD:

[laughing]

GUARD #3:

[chuckling]

PILATE:

Whom would you have me welease?

BOB HOSKINS:

Welease Woger!




CROWD:

Yes! Welease Woger! Welease Woger! [laughing]

PILATE:

Vewy well. I shall welease Woger!

CROWD:

[cheering]

CENTURION:

Sir, uh, we don't have a 'Woger', sir.

PILATE:

What?

CENTURION:

Uh, we don't have anyone of that name, sir.

PILATE:

Ah. We have no 'Woger'!

CROWD:

Ohhhhh!

BOB:

Well, what about Wodewick, then?

CROWD:

Yes! Welease Wodewick! Welease Wodewick!

PILATE:

Centuwion, why do they titter so?

CENTURION:

Just some, uh, Jewish joke, sir.

PILATE:

Are they... wagging me?

CENTURION:

Oh, no, sir!

GUARD #3:

[chuckling]

PILATE:

Vewy well. I shall welease... Wodewick!

CROWD:

[laughing]

CENTURION:

Sir, we don't have a 'Roderick' either.

PILATE:

No 'Woger'? No 'Wodewick'?

CENTURION:

Sorry, sir.

PILATE:

Who is this 'Wod'--

GUARD #1:

[chuckle]

PILATE:

Who is the 'Wodewick' to whom you wefer?

BOB:

He's a wobber!

CROWD:

[laughing]

MAN:

And a wapist!

CROWD:

[laughing]

WOMAN:

And a pickpocket!

CROWD:

Yeah! Ahh, no! No! Shh! Shh!...

PILATE:

He sounds a notowious cwiminal.

CENTURION:

We haven't got him, sir. Mm hm.

PILATE:

Do we have anyone in our pwisons at all?

CENTURION:

Oh, yes, sir. We've got, uh, 'Samson', sir.

PILATE:

Samson?

CENTURION:

Samson the Sadducee Strangler, sir. Uh, Silus the Syrian Assassin. Uh, several seditious scribes from Caesarea. Uhhh, sixty-seven seers from--

BIGGUS:

Let me thpeak to them, Pontiuth!

CENTURION:

Oh, no. Oh.

PILATE:

Ah. Good idea, Biggus.

BIGGUS:

Thitizens! We have Thamthon the Thadduthee Thtrangler, Thilus...




CROWD:

[laughing]

BIGGUS:

...the Athyrian Athathin, theveral theditiouth thcribth from Thaetharea, and...






Back to the Life of Brian page / On to the next scene!




Adam R. Jones

Scene 25



The crowd laughs at Biggus' thpeech



CROWD:

[laughing]

BIGGUS:

Wath it thomething I thaid?

CROWD:

[laughing]

PILATE:

Silence!

WOMAN:

Huh huh huh huh huh!

PILATE:

This man commands a cwack legion!

CROWD:

[laughing]

PILATE:

He wanks as high as any in Wome!

CROWD:

[laughing]






Back to the Life of Brian page / On to the next scene!




Adam R. Jones

Scene 27



Pilate gives the crowd one more chance



PILATE:

All wight. I will give you one more chance. This time, I want to hear no 'Weuben's, no 'Weginald's, no 'Wudolph the Wed-nosed Weindeer's,...

BIGGUS:

No 'Thpenther Trathy'th!

PILATE:

...or we shall welease no one!

JUDITH:

Release Brian!

BOB:

Oh, yeah. That's a good one.

MAN:

Yeah.

BOB:

Welease Bwian!

CROWD:

Welease Bwian! Welease Bwian! [laughing]

PILATE:

Vewy well. That's it.

CENTURION:

Sir, we, uh-- we have got a 'Brian', sir.

PILATE:

What?

CENTURION:

Well, you just sent him for crucifixion, sir.

PILATE:

Uh. Ah, wait! Wait! We do have a 'Bwian'! Well, go and wepwieve him, stwaight away.

CENTURION:

Yes, sir. Yes, sir.

PILATE:

Vewy well! I shall... welease... Bwian!

BRIAN:
Aah.
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!
PILATE:
Hail.
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