Lady: Oh! Oh, dear!
Tramp: Is something wrong, Pidge?
Lady: It's morning.
Tramp: Yeah. So it is.
Lady: I should have been home hours ago.
Tramp: Why? Because you still believe in that old "in the faithful old dog tray" routine? Aw, come on, Pidge. Open up your eyes.
Lady: Open my eyes?
Tramp: To what a dog's life can really be! I'll show you what I mean. Look down there. Tell me what you see.
Lady: Well, I see nice homes, with yards and fences...
Tramp: Exactly. Life on a leash. Look again, Pige. Look, there's a great big hunk of world down there, with no fence around it. Where two dogs can find adventure and excitement. And beyond those distant hills, who knows what wonderful experiences? And it's all ours for the taking, Pige. It's all ours.
Lady: It sound wonderful.
Lady: But who'd watch over the baby?
Tramp: [shaking his head] You win. Come on. I'll take you home.
Lady: What's a... baby?
Jock: Well, they... they resemble humans.
Trusty: But I'd say a mite smaller.
Jock: Aye, and they walk on all fours.
Trusty: And if I remember correctly... they beller a lot.
Jock: Aye, and they're very expensive. You'll no be permitted to play wi' it.
Trusty: But they're mighty sweet.
Jock: And very very soft.
Tramp: Just a cute little bundle... of trouble!
Peg: What a dog!
Lady: [Watching Trusty running and howling in his sleep] He's dreaming.
Jock: Aye, dreamin' of those bonnie bygone days when he and his grandfather were tracking criminals through the swamps.
Lady: They were?
Jock: But that was before...
Lady: Before what?
Jock: 'Tis time you knew the truth, lassie. It shouldn't have happened to a dog, but... well, Trusty has lost his sense of smell.
Lady: [Gasp] No!
Jock: Aye, but we must never let on that we know, lassie. It would break his poor heart.
Jim Dear: [Giving Darling a hatbox] It's for you, Darling. Merry Christmas.
Darling: Oh, Jim, dear. It's the one I was admiring, isn't it? Trimmed with ribbons?
Jim Dear: Well, it *has* a ribbon.
[the box is opened; inside is a puppy wearing a ribbon]
Darling: Oh, how sweet.
Jim Dear: You like her, Darling?
Darling: [hugging the puppy] Oh, I love her. What a perfectly beautiful little Lady.
Boris: Ah, but remember, my friends. Even Tramp has his Achilles heel.
Pedro: Pardon me, amigo. What is this chili deal?
Boris: Achilles heel, Pedro. This is meaning his, uh, weaknesses.
Toughy: Oh! Oh, the dames. Yeah.
Bulldog in Pound: He has an eye for a well-turned paw, he has. Let's see, there's been Lulu...
Toughy: Yeah, and Trixie...
Dachsie: Und Fifi...
Pedro: And my sister, Rosita Chiquita Juanita Chihuahua. I think.
Toughy: [about the Tramp's girlfriends] Yeah. But he never takes 'em serious.
Boris: Ah, but someday he is meeting someone different. Some delicate, fragile creature who's giving him a wish to shelter and protect.
Bulldog in Pound: Like Miss Park Avenue 'ere, eh, Matey?
Boris: Mmm, could be. But when he does...
Peg: Yeah, I'm way ahead of ya. Under the spell of true love...
Bulldog in Pound: The poor chump grows careless...
Boris: The Cossacks are picking him up...
Toughy: And it's curtains for the Tramp.
Tony: Hey, Joe! Look! Butch-a, he's got a new girlfriend.
Joe: Well, a-son of a gun! He's a got a cockerel Spanish-a girl.
Tony: Hey, she's pretty sweet kiddo, Butch. You take-a Tony's advice and settle down with this-a one, eh? Hehehe.
Lady: "This-a one"?
Tramp: This-a one... this-a... Oh! Tony, you know. He's-a not-a speak-a English-a pretty good.
Joe: Here's your bones-a, Tony.
Tony: Okay, bones. Bones? Whassa matta for you, Joe? I break-a your face-e! Tonight, Butch-a, he's-a get the best in the house!
Joe: Okay, Tony! You the boss.
Tony: [Showing Tramp the menu] Now, tell me, what's your pleasure? A la carte? Dinner?
Tony: Aha, okay. Hey, Joe! Butch-a he say he wants-a two spaghetti speciale, heavy on the meats-a ball.
Joe: Tony, dogs-a don't a-talk!
Tony: He's a-talkin' to me!
Joe: Okay, he's a-talkin' to you! You the boss!
[brings the spaghetti, muttering to himself in Italian; Tony snatches the spaghetti from him and serves it to the dogs]
Tony: Now, here you are-a, the best-a spaghetti in-a town.
Tramp: Aw, come on, Pige. It wasn't my fault.
Tramp: I thought you were right behind me. Honest. When I heard they'd taken you to the pound, I...
Lady: Oh, don't even mention that horrible place.
Lady: I was so embarrassed... and frightened...
Tramp: Oh, now, now. Who could ever harm a little trick like you?
Lady: [Angry] Trick? Trick! Oh, that reminds me. Who is Trixie?
Lady: And Lulu and Fifi and Rosita Chiquita wh... whatever her name is?
Tramp: Chiquita... chiquita, oh... Oh! Yes! Well, I-I-I can explain...
Lady: As far as I'm concerned, you needn't worry about your old heel.
Tramp: M-m-my heel?
Lady: I don't need you to shelter and protect me.
Tramp: Yes, b-but...
Lady: If you grow careless, don't blame me. And I don't care if the Cossacks do pick you up! Goodbye! And take this with you!
[Tosses back the bone Tramp gave her]
Trusty: As my grandpappy, Ol' Reliable, used to say... I don't recollect if I've ever mentioned Ol' Reliable before?
Puppies: No you haven't, Uncle Trusty.
Trusty: Huh? I haven't? Well, as Ol' Reliable used to say... he'd say, uh... He'd say, uh... er... Doggone. You know, I clean forgot what it was he used to say!
Tramp: Just a cute little bundle... of trouble. Yeah, they scratch, pinch, pull ears... Aw, but shucks, any dog can take that. It's what they do to your happy home. Move it over, will ya, friend? Homewreckers, that's what they are!
Jock: Look here, laddie! Who are you to barge in?
Tramp: The voice of experience, buster. Just wait 'til Junior gets here. You feel the urge for a nice, comfortable scratch, and... "Put that dog out! He'll get fleas all over the baby!" You start barking at some strange mutt...
Tramp: "Stop that racket, you'll wake the baby!" And then... then they hit you on the room and board department. Oh, remember those nice, juicy cuts of beef? Forget 'em. Leftover baby food. And that nice, warm bed by the fire? A leaky dog house.
Lady: Oh, dear!
Jock: Dinnae listen, lassie. No human is that cruel!
Trusty: Of course not, Miss Lady. Why, everybody knows a dog's best friend is his human.
Tramp: [laughing] Oh, come on now, fellas! You haven't fallen for that old line now, have you?
Jock: Aye, and we've no need for mongr-r-rels and their r-r-radical ideas. Off with ya now! Off with ya! Off with ya!
Tramp: Okay, Sandy.
Jock: The name's Jock!
Tramp: Okay, Jock.
Jock: Heather Lad of Glencairn, to you!
Tramp: Okay, okay, okay! But remember this, Pigeon, a human heart has only so much room for love and affection. When a baby moves in, the dog moves out.
Tramp: [at the zoo] We better go through this place from A to Z. Apes? No, no, no use even asking them. They wouldn't understand.
Lady: They wouldn't?
Tramp: Uh-uh. Too closely related to humans. Oh-oh! Alligators. Now there's an idea!
[to the alligator about the muzzle]
Tramp: Say Al, do you suppose you could nip this contraption off for us?
Al the Alligator: [echoing] Glad to oblige...
[opens his huge mouth to snap off the muzzle, and Lady looks right into his jaws]
Tramp: Whoa! WHOA!
[pulls Lady away at the last second; a nearby hyena laughs at them]
Tramp: Huh. If anybody ever needed a muzzle, it's him.
Tramp: [preparing to leave] Well, friend, we'll be on our way now, so...
Beaver: Uh-uh-uh! Not so fast, sonny.
[puts on the muzzle]
Beaver: I'll have to make certain it's satisfactory before we settle on a price.
Tramp: Oh, no. It's all yours, friend. You can keep it.
Beaver: I can, eh?
Beaver: I can?
Lady: Uh-huh. It's a free sample.
Beaver: [very pleased] Well, thanks a lot. Thanks ever so...
[he slips and falls, dragging the log along; they land in the pond, where the log fits neatly over the dam spillway]
Beaver: [proudly] Say! It works swell!
Tramp: Now take the Schultzes here. Little Fritzy - that's me, Pidge - makes this his Monday home.
Lady: Monday home?
Tramp: [German accent] Ach, ja! Mondays is Mama Schultz cooking der Wienerschnitzel.
Tramp: Mmm-mmm. Delicious.
Tramp: [Irish accent] Now, O'Brien's here is where little Mike - sure'n that's me again, Pidge - comes of a Tuesday.
Lady: Of a Tuesday?
Tramp: [Continuing accent] Begorra, that's when they're after havin' the darlin' corned beef.
Tramp: You see, Pidge, when you're footloose and collar-free, well, you take nothing but the best.
[Trying to explain to Lady that Darling is going to have a baby]
Trusty: You see, miss Lady, there comes a time in the life of all humans when uh... well as they put it... uh, the birds and the bees?
[Lady looks bewildered]
Trusty: Or well... uh... the stork? You know? Uh, no...? Well uh...
Jock: What he's tryin' to say, Lassie, is, Darling is expecting a wee bairn!
Trusty: He means a baby, miss Lady.
[Lady approaches the baby's room deep in thought and singing to herself]
Lady: What is a baby? I just can't understand. It must be something wonderful. It must be something grand. 'Cause everybody's smiling, in a kind and wistful way, and they haven't even noticed that I'm around today.
[Jim Dear comes down the stairs whistling, doesn't notice her]
Lady: What is a baby, anyway? Oh what is a baby? I must find out today, what makes Jim Dear and Darling... act... this... way...
Beaver: [struggling with a log] Ah-ah-ah, busy sonny, busy! Gotta slide this sycamore to the - ung - swamp!
Tramp: But this'll only take a second of your time...
Beaver: Only a second! Listen, listen sonny, you realize every second, seventy centimeters of water is wasted over that spillway?
Tramp: Yeah, but...
Beaver: Gotta get this log movin', sonny, gotta get it movin'! T'ain't the cuttin' take's the time, it's the doggone haulin'!
Tramp: [looking from the leash to a branch on the log] The hauling! Exactly! Now, what you need is...
Beaver: [chewing through part of the log] Better bisect this section here...
Tramp: What you need is a log puller.
Tramp: I SAID A LOG PULLER!
Beaver: I ain't deef, sonny. There's no need to... Did you say log puller?
Tramp: [like a salesman] Haha, and by lucky coincidence, you see before you, modeled by the lovely little lady, the new, improved, patented, handy-dandy, never-fail little giant log puller. The busy beaver's friend!
Beaver: You don't say!
Tramp: Guaranteed not to wear, tear, rip or ravel. Turn around, sister, and show the customer the merchandise. And it cuts log-hauling time sixty-six percent!
Beaver: Sixty-six percent, eh? Figure that! Well, how's it work?
Tramp: [demonstrating] Why, it's no work at all! You merely slip this ring over the limb like this, and haul it off!
Beaver: Uh, say, d'you mind if I slip it on for size?
Tramp: Help yourself, friend, help yourself!
Beaver: Okay! Hehe. Don't mind if I do! Uh... how'd'ya get the carn-starnded thing off, sonny?
Tramp: Glad you brought that up, friend, glad you brought that up! To remove it, simply place the strap between your teeth...
Beaver: Like this?
Tramp: Kee-rect, friend. Now bite HARD!
[beaver bites the muzzle off]
Tramp: You see?
Lady: It's off!
Beaver: Say, that *is* simple!
Jim Dear: [Following Lady up the stairs] What is it, old girl? What are you trying...
[finds the dead rat]
Jim Dear: Darling, Aunt Sarah, come here!
Darling: What is it Jim?
Aunt Sarah: [screams] Aah! A rat!
Trusty: A rat! We should've known.
Jock: [regretfully] I misjudged him. Badly.
Trusty: [running towards the gate] Come on! We got to stop that wagon!
Jock: [hurrying after him] But man, we dinnae know which way they've gone!
Trusty: We'll track 'em down!
Jock: [struggling to keep up] A-a-and then?
Trusty: We'll hold 'em! Hold 'em at bay!
Bulldog in Pound: [to Lady] Peg used to be in the dog-and-pony follies.
Trusty: As my grandpappy, Ol' Reliable, used to say... I don't recollect if I ever mentioned Ol' Reliable before?
Toughy: Well, wow, look youse guys, Miss Park Avenue herself.
Bulldog in Pound: Blimey, a regular bloomin' debutante.
Toughy: Yeah, and pipe the crown jewel she's wearin'.
Bulldog in Pound: Hey, whatcha in for, sweetheart? Putting fleas on the butler?
[Toughy and the bulldog both laugh]
Peg: All right, all right, you guys! Lay off, will you?
Toughy: Aw, what's the matter, Peg?
Bulldog in Pound: We was only havin' a bit of sport, we was.
[after being chased into the rich end of town]
Tramp: Well! Snob Hill.