*****   The Market Haggling Scene from Life of Brian            *****
 *****   Transcribed by Dwayne A. X. E. E. (86/7/28)             *****

 (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.

 *****   Here endeth Part Eleven of Life of Brian (of Nazareth)  *****