Dr. King Schultz: [aiming .45-70 rifle at fleeing Ellis Brittle] You sure that's him?
Dr. King Schultz: Positive?
Django: I don't know.
Dr. King Schultz: You don't know if you're positive?
Django: I don't know what 'positive' means.
Dr. King Schultz: It means you're sure.
Dr. King Schultz: Yes, what?
Django: Yes, I'm sure that's Ellis Brittle.
[Schultz shoots Brittle off his horse]
Django: I'm positive he dead.
Calvin Candie: White cake?
Dr. King Schultz: I don't go in for sweets, thank you.
Calvin Candie: Are you brooding 'bout me getting the best of ya, huh?
Dr. King Schultz: Actually, I was thinking of that poor devil you fed to the dogs today, D'Artagnan. And I was wondering what Dumas would make of all this.
Calvin Candie: Come again?
Dr. King Schultz: Alexander Dumas. He wrote "The Three Musketeers." I figured you must be an admirer. You named your slave after his novel's lead character. If Alexander Dumas had been there today, I wonder what he would have made of it?
Calvin Candie: You doubt he'd approve?
Dr. King Schultz: Yes. His approval would be a dubious proposition at best.
Calvin Candie: Soft hearted Frenchy?
Dr. King Schultz: Alexander Dumas is black.
Calvin Candie: [to Django] So, bright boy, Moguy tells me you looked over my African flesh and you was none too impressed, huh?
Django: Not for top dollar.
Calvin Candie: Well, then, we got nothing more to talk about. You see, you want to buy a beat ass nigger from me, those are the beat ass niggers I want to sell, so...
Django: He don't wanna buy the niggers you wanna sell. He wants the nigger you don't wanna sell.
Calvin Candie: Well, I don't sell the niggers I don't wanna sell.
Dr. King Schultz: Well, you won't sell your best. You won't even sell your second best, but your third best? You don't wanna sell either, but if I made you an offer so ridiculous, you'd be forced to consider it?
Dr. King Schultz: Who knows what could happen?
Calvin Candie: And what do you consider "ridiculous?"
Dr. King Schultz: For a truly talented specimen, the right nigger? How much would you say, Django?
Django: ...12,000 dollars.
Calvin Candie: Gentlemen, you had my curiosity, now you have my attention.
Calvin Candie: Hello. Stephen, my boy!
Stephen: [black house servant exiting the Big House] Yeah, yeah, yeah. Hello, my ass. Who dis nigger up on dat nag?
Calvin Candie: Aw, Stephen, you have nails for breakfast? What's the matter? Why you so ornery? You miss me? Huh?
Stephen: Oh, yes, sir. I miss you like a hawg miss slop. Like a baby miss mammy titty! I miss you like I misses a rock in my shoe! Now, I aks you, who dis nigger on dat nag?
Django: Hey, Snowball. You wanna know my name or the name of my horse, you ask me.
Stephen: Just who the hell you callin' 'Snowball,' hoss boy? I'll snatch yo black ass off dat nag down here in the mud so fast make yo head spin!
Calvin Candie: Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! Stephen! Stephen! Let's keep it funny. Django here's a freeman.
Stephen: Dis nigger here?
Calvin Candie: That nigger there. Let me at least introduce the two of you. Django, this is a another cheeky black bugger like yourself, Stephen. Stephen, this here is Django. You two oughta hate each other.
Stephen: Calvin, just who the hell is dis nigger you feel's the need to entertain?
Calvin Candie: Django, and his friend in gray here, Dr. Schultz, are customers. And they are our guests, Stephen. And you, you old, decrepit bastard, you are to show them every hospitality. You understand that?
Stephen: Yes, sir. Him I understands, but I don't know why I got to take lip off dis nigger.
Calvin Candie: You don't have to know why. Do you understand?
Stephen: Yes, sir. I understand.
Calvin Candie: Well, good. They're spending the night. Go open the guest bedrooms and get two ready.
Stephen: [mortified] He gawn stay in the Big House?
Calvin Candie: Stephen. He's a slaver. It's different.
Stephen: In the Big House?
Calvin Candie: Well, you got a problem with that?
Stephen: Aw, naw, naw. I ain't got no problem with it. If you ain't got no problem with burnin' the bed, the sheets, the pillowcase, and everything else when this black-ass motherfucker's gone!
Calvin Candie: That is my problem! They are mine to burn! Now your problem right now is making a good impression! And I want you to start solving that problem right now and get them goddamn rooms ready!
Stephen: Yes, sir, Monsieur Candie.
Calvin Candie: Go on, now.
Stephen: Cain't believe you brought a nigger to stay in the Big House. Yo daddy's rollin' over in his goddamn grave, right now. Brought a nigger to stay with us. What kinda shit is that?
Calvin Candie: Man, the lip on him! Whoo! He's getting worse and worse. Now, WHERE IS MY BEAUTIFUL SISTER?
Django: Hey, little troublemaker.
Django: [to Big John Brittle] I like the way you die, boy.
Dr. King Schultz: Well, Broomhilda was a princess. She was a daughter of Wotan, god of all gods. Anyways, Her father is really mad at her.
Django: What she do?
Dr. King Schultz: I can't exactly remember. She disobeys him in some way. So he puts her on top of the mountain.
Django: Broomhilda's on a mountain?
Dr. King Schultz: It's a German legend, there's always going to be a mountain in there somewhere. And he puts a fire-breathing dragon there to guard the mountain. And he surrounds her in a circle of hellfire. And there, Broomhilda shall remain. Unless a hero arises brave enough to save her.
Django: Does a fella arise?
Dr. King Schultz: Yes, Django, as a matter of fact, he does. A fella named Siegfried.
Django: Does Siegfried save her?
Dr. King Schultz: [Nods] Quiet spectacularly so. He scales the mountain, because he's not afraid of it. He slays the dragon, because he's not afraid of him. And he walks through hellfire... because Broomhilda's worth it.
Django: I know how he feel.
Django: [gentlemanly] Cora, before you go, will you tell Miss Lara "goodbye"?
Cora: Do what now?
Django: I said, "tell Miss Lara goodbye!"
Cora: Bye, Miss Lara!
Django: [quickly shoots Miss Lara, who is comically blown away into another room] Y'all two run along now!
[Cora and Sheeba frantically run out of the house]
Django: You said in seventy-six years on this plantation, you've seen all manner of shit done to niggers but I notice... you didn't mention kneecapping.
[Django shoots Stephen in the kneecap]
Stephen: Oh, God-motherfucking-damn it!
Django: Seventy-six years, Stephen. How many niggers you think you seen come and go? Seven thousand? Eight thousand? Nine thousand? Nine thousand nine hundred and ninety nine? Every single word that came out of Calvin Candie's mouth was nothing but horseshit, but he was right about one thing: I am that one nigger in ten thousand.
[He shoots Stephen in the other kneecap]
Stephen: Oh, you son of a bitch! Oh, you motherfucker! Oh, sweet Jesus, let me kill this nigger!
Stephen: DJANGO! You uppity son of a b...
[Plantation blows up]
Dr. King Schultz: [after Calvin Candie brings a box into his dining room and takes a human skull out of it] Who is your little friend?
Calvin Candie: This is Ben. He's a old Joe that lived around here for a long time. And I do mean a long damn time. Old Ben here took care of my daddy and my daddy's daddy, till he up and keeled over one day. Old Ben took care of me. Growing up the son of a huge plantation owner in Mississippi puts a white man in contact with a whole lot of black faces. I spent my whole life here right here in Candyland, surrounded by black faces. And seeing them every day, day in day out, I only had one question. Why don't they kill us? Now right out there on that porch three times a week for fifty years, old Ben here would shave my daddy with a straight razor. Now if I was old Ben, I would have cut my daddy's goddamn throat, and it wouldn't have taken me no fifty years to do it neither. But he never did. Why not? You see, the science of phrenology is crucial to understanding the separation about two species. In the skull of the African here, the area associated with submissiveness is larger than any human or other sub-human species on planet Earth. If you examine this piece of skull here, you'll notice three distinct dimples. Here, here and here. Now if I was holding a skull of a... of an Isaac Newton or Galileo, these three dimples would be in the area of the skull most associated with creativity. But this is the skull of old Ben, and in the skull of old Ben unburdened by genius, these three dimples exist in the area of the skull most associated with servility.
[Turns to Django]
Calvin Candie: Now bright boy, I will admit you are pretty clever. But if I took this hammer here and I bashed it in your skull, you would have the same three dimples in the same place as old Ben.
Dr. King Schultz: You silver tongued devil, you.
Big Daddy: [instructing raiding party] Now unless they start shooting first, nobody shoot 'em. That's way too simple for these jokers. We're gonna whoop that nigger lover to death! And I am personally gonna strip and clip that gaboon myself!
[puts on bag]
Big Daddy: Damn! I can't see fuckin' shit outta this thing.
Unnamed Baghead: We ready or what?
Big Daddy: Naw, hold on, I'm fuckin' with my eye holes.
Big Daddy: Oh. Oh, shit.
[takes off bag]
Big Daddy: Ah, I just made it worse.
Unnamed Baghead: Who made this goddamn shit?
Other Unnamed Baghead: Willard's wife.
Willard: Well, make your own goddamn mask!
Big Daddy: Look. Nobody's sayin' they don't appreciate what Jenny did.
Unnamed Baghead: Well, if all I had to do was cut a hole in a bag, I coulda cut it better than this!
Other Unnamed Baghead: What about you, Robert? Can you see?
Robert: Not too good. I mean, if I don't move my head I can see you pretty good, more or less. But when I start ridin', the bag's movin' all over, and I - I'm ridin' blind.
Bag Head #2: [rips bag] Shit. I just made mine worse. Anybody bring any extra bags?
Unnamed Baghead: No! Nobody brought an extra bag!
Dicky Speck: [cocks rifle] Who's that stumblin' around in the dark? State your business or prepare to get winged!
Dr. King Schultz: Mister Candie, normally I would say "Auf wiedersehen," but since what "auf wiedersehen" actually means is "'till I see you again", and since I never wish to see you again, to you, sir, I say goodbye!
[Dr. Schultz turns around to leave with Django and Broomhilda]
Calvin Candie: [Candie sulks in his library chair for a brief moment as he watches Schultz walk out. He then raises his hand to stop the doctor] Hmm! One more moment, Doctor!
Dr. King Schultz: [stops and faces Candie] What?
Calvin Candie: [Candie raises out of his chair] It's a custom here in the South once a business deal is concluded that the two parties shake hands. It implies good faith...
Dr. King Schultz: I'm not from the South...
[Schultz turns again]
Calvin Candie: But you are in my house, Doctor! So, I'm afraid I must insist...
Dr. King Schultz: Insist? On what? That I shake your hand?
Dr. King Schultz: Then I'm afraid I must insist in the opposite direction!
Calvin Candie: [Calvin walks closer to the German doctor] You know what I think you are?
Dr. King Schultz: What you think I am? No, I don't!
Calvin Candie: I think you are a bad loser!
Dr. King Schultz: And I think you're an abysmal winner!
Calvin Candie: Never the less, here in Chickasaw County, a deal ain't done till the two parties have shook hands. Even after all that paper signin', don't mean shit you don't shake my hand.
Dr. King Schultz: And if I don't shake your hand, you're gonna throw away $12,000? I don't think so!
Calvin Candie: Mr. Pooch, if she tries to leave here before this nigger-loving German shakes my hand, you cut her ass down!
[Butch turns around to Broomhilda and clicks his gun. Django stands in front of Broomhilda to protect her in case she gets shot; he looks at Schultz. Dr. Schultz glares back at Django with an angry look on his face]
Dr. King Schultz: [Dr. Schultz turns back at Candie] You REALLY want me to shake your hand?
Calvin Candie: [Candie holds out his hand and smirks] I insist!
Dr. King Schultz: Oh, if you insist...
[Schultz smiles and walks up to Candie, pretending to willfully shake his hand; he instead raises a tiny gun hidden under his sleeve and shoots Candie in the chest]
Ace Speck: [as Dr. Schultz questions Django] Hey! Stop talking to him like that.
Dr. King Schultz: [looks to Ace] Like what?
Ace Speck: Like that.
Dr. King Schultz: My dear sir, I am simply trying to ascertain...
Ace Speck: Speak English, goddamn it.
Dr. King Schultz: Everybody calm down. I'm simply a customer trying to conduct a transaction.
Ace Speck: I don't care. No sale. Now off with you.
Dr. King Schultz: Oh don't be ridiculous. Of course they're for sale.
Ace Speck: [points shotgun at Schultz] Move it.
Dr. King Schultz: My good man, did you simply get carried away with your dramatic gesture, or are you pointing your weapon at me with lethal intention?
Ace Speck: [cocks shotgun] Last chance, fancy pants.
Dr. King Schultz: Oh well, very well.
[pulls out pistol and shoots Ace and Dicky's horse]
Django: [Django shoots Billy Crash in the arm; he falls to the floor injured and wailing] Billy Crash!
Django: Now, where were we? Oh... that's right! Last time I saw you, you had your hands around my-
[Django shoots Billy Crash in the genital area; he starts screaming]
Billy Crash: D-Jango! You black son of a bitch!
Django: [calmly] The "D" is silent, hillbilly!
[Django shoots Billy Crash dead]
Calvin Candie: Dr. Schultz, in Greenville, you yourself said that for the right nigger you'd be willing to pay what some may consider is a ridiculous amount. To which me myself said "What is your definition of ridiculous?" To which you said "$12,000." Now, considering y'all have ridden a whole lot of miles...
[Candie aggressively grabs Broomhilda's head, she whimpers as Django looks on intensively]
Calvin Candie: ... went through a whole lot of trouble...
[Candie continues holding Broomhilda's head, and starts rubbing her face]
Calvin Candie: ... and done spread a whole lot of bull to purchase this lovely lady right here, it would appear that Broomhilda is in fact the right nigger. And if y'all wanna leave Candyland with Broomhilda, the price... is $12,000.
Dr. King Schultz: And I take it you prefer the take it or leave it style of negotiation?
Calvin Candie: [Candie lets go of Broomhila's head] Yes, I do, Doctor. You see, under the laws of Chickasaw County, Broomhilda, here, is my property... and I can choose to do with MY PROPERTY... WHATEVER I SO DESIRE!
[Candie rubs his injured hand and smears the blood all over Broomhilda's face; she shrieks and moans in disgust and fear]
Calvin Candie: And if y'all think my price for this nigger here is too steep, what I'm gonna desire to do is...
[Candie causally sets his cigarette down; he suddenly but quickly picks up his hammer and violently grabs hold of Broomhilda's hair, slamming her face on the dinner table and raising the hammer above her head. Schultz jumps while Django rises up out of his seat]
Calvin Candie: TAKE THIS GODDAMNED HAMMER HERE, AND BEAT HER ASS TO DEATH WITH IT! RIGHT IN FRONT OF BOTH YA'LL! THEN WE CAN EXAMINE THE THREE DIMPLES INSIDE BROOMHILDA'S SKULL! NOW... WHAT'S IT GONNA BE DOC? HUH? WHAT'S IT GOING TO BE?
Dr. King Schultz: [Screams back nervously] May I lift my hands off the table in order to remove my billfold?
Calvin Candie: YES, you may!
[Schultz quickly retrieves his wallet out of his pocket and tosses it on the table; Stephen grabs it and starts counting the money]
Stephen: [Nods to Calvin with the cash] That twelve.
[Candie greedily smiles as Stephen drops the cash in front of him]
Calvin Candie: [Lets go of Broomhilda's head and slams the hammer loudly on the table] SOLD... TO THE MAN WITH EXCEPTIONAL BEARD, AND HIS UNEXCEPTIONAL NIGGER!
Dr. King Schultz: And as if on cue, here comes the sheriff!
Sheriff Bill Sharp: [Comes in tavern] Okay, boys, fun's over! Come on out.
[Bill Sharp leads Schultz and Django outside while an anxious crowd watches]
Sheriff Bill Sharp: Alright folks, calm down! Go about your business. The jokers will be gone soon.
[Turns to Schultz and Django]
Sheriff Bill Sharp: Now, why do ya'll wanna come into my town and start trouble? And scare all of these nice people? You ain't got nothing better to do than to come into Bill Sharp's town and show your ass-!
[Dr. Schultz suddenly raises his derringer and shoots the sheriff in the stomach]
Calvin Candie: [to Stephen] Stephen, when you get through showing them to their rooms, go fetch Hildi. Get her cleaned up and smellin' real nice and send her over to Dr. Schultz's room.
Stephen: [laughing] Actually, Monsieur Candie sir, there's something I ain't told you about yet.
Calvin Candie: What?
Stephen: Uh, Hildi 'in the hot box.
Calvin Candie: Well what's she doin' there?
Stephen: What you think she doin' there, in the hot box? She been punished!
Calvin Candie: Well what did she do?
Stephen: She run off again.
Calvin Candie: Jesus Christ, Stephen! How many people run away while I was gone?
Calvin Candie: Well when did she go?
Stephen: Last night. They brung her back this morning.
Calvin Candie: How long she been in the box?
Stephen: How long you think she been in there? All damn day! And the little bitch got ten more days to be in there.
Calvin Candie: Take her out.
Stephen: Take her out? Why?
Calvin Candie: Because I said so, that's why! Dr. Schultz is my guest. Hildi is my nigger. Southern hospitality dictates I make her available to him.
Stephen: But Monsieur Candie, she run off.
Calvin Candie: Christ, Stephen! What is the point of having a nigger that speaks German if you can't wheel 'em out when you have a German guest? Now I realize it is an inconvenience! Still, you take her ass out.
Stephen: Yes sir.
[to the Overseers]
Stephen: Ya'll done heard the man! Get her ass up outta there! Go! Get her over there and get her cleaned up and bring her back over here to, uh, Doctor -
Stephen: What did you say your name was? Shoots?
Dr. King Schultz: "Schultz."
Unnamed Baghead: [raiding party is discussing their bags] Do we have to wear 'em when we ride?
Big Daddy: Oh, well shitfire! If you don't wear 'em as you ride up, that just defeats the purpose!
Unnamed Baghead: Well, I can't see in this fuckin' thing!
[takes bag off]
Unnamed Baghead: I can't breathe in this fuckin' thing, and I can't ride in this fuckin' thing!
Willard: Well fuck all y'all! I'm going home! You know, I watched my wife work all day gettin' thirty bags together for you ungrateful sons of bitches! And all I can hear is criticize, criticize, criticize! From now on, don't ask me or mine for nothin'!
Big Daddy: Now look. Let's not forget why we're here. We gotta kill a nigger over that hill there! And we gotta make a lesson out of him!
Bag Head #2: Okay, I'm confused. Are the bags on or off?
Robert: I think... we all think the bag was a nice idea. But - not pointin' any fingers - they coulda been done better. So, how 'bout, no bags this time - but next time, we do the bags right, and then we go full regalia.
Big Daddy: Wait a minute! I didn't say 'no bags'!
Bag Head #2: But nobody can see.
Big Daddy: So?
Bag Head #2: So, it'd be nice to see.
Big Daddy: Goddammit! This is a raid! I can't see! You can't see! So what? All that matters is can the fuckin' horse see? That's a raid!
Calvin Candie: [about Django] He is a rambunctious sort, ain't he?
Dr. King Schultz: How long have you been associated with Mr. Candie?
Leonide Moguy: Oh, Calvin's father and I were about eleven when we went to boarding school together. Calvin's father's father put me through law school. One could almost say I was raised to be Calvin's lawyer.
Django: One could almost say you's a nigga.
Leonide Moguy: What did you say?
Django: I said...
Dr. King Schultz: He's just being cheeky.
Dr. King Schultz: My name is Dr. King Schultz, and like yourself, Marshall, I am a servant of the court. The man lying dead in the dirt, who the good people of Daughtrey saw fit to elect as their sheriff, who went by the name of Bill Sharp, is actually a wanted outlaw by the name of Willard Peck, with a price on his head of 200 dollars. Now, that's 200 dollars, dead or alive.
U.S. Marshall Gill Tatum: The hell you say!
Dr. King Schultz: I'm aware this is probably disconcerting news. But I'm willing to wager this man was elected sheriff sometime in the last two years. I know this because three years ago, he was rustling cattle from the B.C. Corrigan Cattle Company of Lubbock, Texas. Now, this is a warrant, made out by circuit court Judge Henry Allen Laudermilk of Austin Texas. You're encouraged to wire him. He'll back up who I am, and who your dear departed sheriff was. In other words Marshall... you owe me 200 dollars.
Django: I'll be damned!
Django: It's me, baby...
Dr. King Schultz: Anything else about Mr. Candie I should know about before I meet him?
Leonide Moguy: Yes, he is a bit of a francophile. Well, what civilized people aren't? And he prefers "Monsieur Candie" to "Mr. Candie".
Dr. King Schultz: Si c'est cela qu'il préfère.
[Whatever he prefers]
Leonide Moguy: He doesn't speak French. Don't speak French to him, it'll embarrass him.
Dr. King Schultz: Let's just hope she works in the house, not in the field.
Django: Oh, no, she ain't no field nigger. She... She pretty. And she talk good, too. But when they tore her back up and then they... burned that runaway "r" on her cheek... they goddamned her. She ain't no field nigger but she ain't good enough for the house no more either. They gonna try to make her a comfort girl.
Dr. King Schultz: What's a comfort...? Oh.
Django: [playing his role as a black slaver to the hilt] You niggas gon' understand something about me! I'm worse than any of these white men here! You get the molasses out your ass, and you keep your goddamn eyeballs off me!
Dr. King Schultz: Auf Wiedersehen. Bullseye.
Dr. King Schultz: Do most slaves believe in marriage?
Django: Oh, me and wife did. Old Man Carrucan didn't. That's why we, uh, we run off.
Old Man Carrucan: [During Django's flashback when he was a slave on the Carrucan plantation] Django... Django... Django... You got sand, Django. Boy's got sand! I got no use for a nigger with sand.
[Django, with a metal collar around his neck and face, looks on]
Old Man Carrucan: I want you to burn a runaway "R" right here on his cheek, and the girl, too.
Old Man Carrucan: And I want you to take them to the Greenville auction and sell them. Both of them... separately.
[Django looks at Old Man Carrucan with rage]
Old Man Carrucan: And this one... you will sell him cheap!
Calvin Candie: [to Schultz] Come on over. We got us a fight going on that's a good bit of fun.
Big Daddy: Uh, Betina?
Betina: Yes sir, Big Daddy?
Big Daddy: Uh...
Big Daddy: What's your Jimmie's name again?
Dr. King Schultz: Django.
Big Daddy: Django!
Big Daddy: Betina, sugar, could you take Django there and take him around the grounds here and show him all the pretty stuff?
Betina: As you please, Big Daddy!
Dr. King Schultz: Oh, Mr. Bennett, I must remind you, Django is a free man. He cannot be treated like a slave. He... within the boundaries of good taste, he must be treated as an extension of myself.
Big Daddy: Understood. Betina, sugar?
Big Daddy: Django isn't a slave. Django is a free man. You understand?
Big Daddy: You can't treat him like any of the other niggers around here, 'cause he ain't like any of the other nigger around here. Ya got it?
Betina: You mean, you want me to actually treat him like white folks?
Big Daddy: No, that's not what I said!
Betina: Then I don't know what you want, Big Daddy!
Big Daddy: Yes, I can see that. Uh, what's the name of that peckerwood boy from town that works with the glass? His momma work at the lumberyard...
Big Daddy's Mammy: Oh, you mean Jerry?
Big Daddy: That's the boy's name, Jerry!
Big Daddy: You know Jerry, don't ya, sugar?
Betina: Yes, Big Daddy.
Big Daddy: Well, that's it then! Just treat him like you would Jerry!
Stephen: [singing] In the sweet by and by, we shall meet on that beautiful shore. In the sweet by and by, we shall meet on that beautiful shore...
Stephen: In the sweet...
Django: [Django appears and starts singing] By and by... Ohhhhhh!
[Stephen, Miss Lara and everybody else in the room jerks up to Django, who is standing on the top balcony lighting candles]
Django: Ya'll gonna be together with Calvin in the "bye-and-bye..."
[Django pauses as Billy Crash walks up]
Django: ... just a bit sooner than ya'll was expecting!
Stephen: [after Django is recaptured, stripped naked, taken to a barn and chained upside down from the ceiling; Stephen walks in and throws a bag of filthy clothes on the barn floor] You leaving. This here is what you take with you.
[Stephen pulls up a stool and sits in front of the hanging Django]
Stephen: Your black ass is what all them motherfuckers at the Big House could talk about for the last few hours. Seem like white folk ain't never had a bright idea in they life was coming up with all kinds of ways to kill your ass. Now, mind you, most of them ideas had to do with fucking with your fun parts. Now, that may seem like a good idea, but the truth is, when you snip a nigga's nuts, most of them bleed out in, oh, about... seven minutes. Most of them.
[Stephen chuckles at the shivering, then-helpless Django]
Stephen: Well, more than most. Then I says, "Shitfire! The niggas we sell to LeQuint Dickey got it worse than that!" And they say, "Let's whip him to death!", or "Throw him to the Mandingos. Feed him to Stonesipher's dogs." And I said, "What's so special about that? We do that shit all the time! Hell's bells, the niggas we sell to LeQuint Dickey got it worse than that!" Lo and behold, out of nowhere, Miss Laura come up with the bright idea of giving your ass to the LeQuint Dickey Mining Company!
[Django just stares at the old man talking to him]
Stephen: And as a slave of the LeQuint Dickey Mining Company, henceforth until the day you die, all day, every day, you will be swingin' a sledgehammer, turnin' big rocks into little rocks. Now, when you get there, they gonna take away your name, give you a number and a sledgehammer, and say, "Get to work!" One word of sass, they cut out your tongue. And they good at it, too. You won't bleed out. Oh, they does that real good! They gonna work ya all day, every day 'till your back give out. Then, they're gonna hit you in the head with a hammer, throw your ass down the nigger hole.
[Django looks on]
Stephen: And THAT will be the story of you, Django!
Dr. King Schultz: Our mutual friend has a flair for the dramatic.
Django: [while whipping Roger Brittle] Keep it funny!
Stephen: You said you ain't know him.
Stephen: I said, "You said you ain't know him."
Broomhilda: I don't.
Stephen: Yes, you do.
Broomhilda: Mister Stephen, I don't.
Stephen: Why is you lying to me?
Broomhilda: [on the verge of tears] I ain't.
Stephen: Then why is you cryin'?
Broomhilda: You scaring me.
Stephen: Why is I'm scarin' you?
Broomhilda: Because you're scary.
Big Daddy: It's against the law for niggers to ride horses in this territory.
Dr. King Schultz: This is my valet, and my valet doesn't walk...
Big Daddy: I said, niggers on horses...
Dr. King Schultz: His name is Django, he's a free man, and he can ride what he pleases!
Big Daddy: Not on my property, not around my niggers he can't!
Dr. King Schultz: My good sir, perhaps we got off on the wrong boot. Allow me to unring this bell! My name is Dr.King Schultz, this is my valet, Django, and these are our horses, Fritz, and Tony.
[Fritz the horse does his bow, making the slave girls giggle]
Dr. King Schultz: Mr. Bennett, I've been lead to believe you are a gentleman, and a business man. And it is in these capacities that we've ridden from Texas to Tennessee to talk with you now.
Big Daddy: State your business.
Dr. King Schultz: I wish to purchase one of your nigger gals!
Big Daddy: You and your Jimmie rode from Texas to Tennessee, to buy one of my nigger gals, no appointment, no nothin'?
Dr. King Schultz: Well, I'm afraid so!
Big Daddy: Well what if I say, I don't like you, or your fancy pants nigger, and I wouldn't sell you a tinkers damn! Now, what'cha gotta say about that?
Dr. King Schultz: [Django hands his head, Schultz looks at him and looks back up at Big Daddy] Mr. Bennett! If you are the business man I've been led to believe you to be, I have five thousand things I might say that could change your mind.
Big Daddy: [laughs] Well, c'mon inside and get yourself somethin' cool to drank!
Calvin Candie: Everybody stop antagonizing my guest.
Calvin Candie: [after selling Broomhilda to Django and Schultz] Mr. Moguy!
Leonide Moguy: Yes, Calvin?
Calvin Candie: You make this gentlemen a receipt for $12,000, please.
[Candie stands up and casually examines his cut hand]
Calvin Candie: It was a pleasure doing business with y'all.
Calvin Candie: Now gentlemen, if you care to join me in the parlor, we will be serving white cake...
Dr. King Schultz: On one hand, I despise slavery. On the other hand, I need your help. If you're not in a position to refuse, all the better. So, for the time being, I'm gonna make this slavery malarkey work to my benefit. Still, having said that, I feel guilty...
Dr. King Schultz: So, I would like the two of us to enter into an agreement.
[Schultz leans in on Django]
Dr. King Schultz: I'm looking for the Brittle brothers.
[Django stares at him]
Dr. King Schultz: However, at this endeavor, I'm at a slight disadvantage insofar as I don't know what they look like.
Dr. King Schultz: But you do. Don't ya?
Django: [Django leans in on Schultz] Oh, I know what they look like, all right.
Dr. King Schultz: Good. So here's my agreement: You travel with me until we find them...
Django: [Django smiles] Where we goin'?
Dr. King Schultz: I hear at least two of them are overseeing up in Gatlinburg, but I don't know where. That means we visit every plantation in Gatlinburg till we find 'em. And when we find them, you point them out, and I kill them.
[Django smirks and nods]
Dr. King Schultz: You do that, I agree to give you your freedom; $25 per Brittle brother.
Django: Let's get out of here.
The LeQuint Dickey Mining Co. Employee: [to Django] You're alright for a black fella!
Calvin Candie: Django, and his friend in gray here, Dr. Schultz, are customers. And they are our guests, Stephen, and you, you old decrepit bastard are to show them every hospitality. You understand that?
Dr. King Schultz: Bonsoir ma petite femme noir.
Dr. King Schultz: Good morning, inn keeper. Two beers for two weary travelers!
Innkeeper: [while busy fixing a lamp bulb in the diner] Ah, it's still a bit early. We won't be open for another hour. By then, we'll be servin' breakfast-
[the innkeeper turns around and sees Schultz with Django; he gasps frantically]
Innkeeper: Whoa, whoa, WHOA, WHOA!
Innkeeper: What the hell you think you're doing, boy?
Innkeeper: Get that nigger outta here!
[the innkeeper is then shown running outside]
Innkeeper: Help! HELP!
Dr. King Schultz: [Schultz runs after him] Innkeeper... innkeeper! Remember, get the sheriff, not the marshal!
Innkeeper: [as he is running through the town] Sheriff! Help!
Dr. King Schultz: [Schultz returns to the inn and shrugs to Django] Alas! Now we must act as our own bartender. Sit down, my boy.
[Django sits at the table while Schultz goes to the bar to prepare two glasses of beer]
Django: [bursts into a room of runaway slave catchers, guns drawn] D'Artagnan, motherfuckers!
Dr. King Schultz: [Turns to the four remaining slaves] Now, as to you poor devils. So as I see it, when it comes to the subject of what to do next, you gentlemen have two choices. One: once I'm gone, you could lift that beast off the remaining Speck, then carry him to the nearest town; which would be at least 37 miles back the way you came. Or two: you could unshackle yourselves, take that rifle, put a bullet in his head, bury the two of them deep, and then make your way to a more enlightened area of this country. The choice is yours.
[Starts to ride off but stops to talk to the slaves again]
Dr. King Schultz: Oh! And on the off chance there are any astronomy aficionados amongst you, the North Star is that one. Tata!
[Dr. Shultz rides away with his horse and wagon; Django follows him on horseback but keeps watch of what the four other slaves do to Dicky Speck]
Dicky Speck: [the slaves watch both Shultz and Django walk away and all turn to Dicky Speck, who is lying on the ground wounded] Now, wait a minute, fellas! Let's talk about this!
[the black men start approaching him aggressively. One of the men drops the lantern; the slaves each take off their blankets and a couple of them pick up sticks]
Dicky Speck: You gotta be reasonable in a situation like this!
[the slaves continue walking towards him, not saying a word. The man on the far right holds a rifle. Django watches and observes all of this]
Dicky Speck: I'm not a bad guy, I'm just doing my job! Blueberry, didn't I give you my last apple? Tell you what, boys, take me to the doc in El Paso, and I'll get you your freedom.
[We hear the rifle cocking]
Dicky Speck: No... wait!
[the slaves shoot and kill Dicky Speck]
Big John Brittle: [preparing to whip Little Jody] And the Lord said "The fear of ye, and the dread of ye, shall be on every beast of the Earth."
[in a flashback, when Django is doing target practice]
Dr. King Schultz: Do you know what they're going to call you? The "Fastest Gun in the South".
Dr. King Schultz: [Big Daddy approaches with a mob of other people to confront Schultz and Django after they killed the Brittle brothers] Everybody calm down, we mean no one else any harm!
Big Daddy: Who are you two jokers?
Dr. King Schultz: I am Dr. King Schultz, a legal representative of the criminal justice system of the United States of America. The man to my left is Django Freeman, he's my deputy. In my pocket is a warrant signed by circuit court judge Henry Allen Laudermilk of Austin, Texas, for the arrest and capture, dead or alive, of John Brittle, Ellis Brittle, and Roger Brittle...
Django: They were going by the name of "Shaffer."
Dr. King Schultz: You know them by the name "Shaffer," but the butchers real names were Brittle. These are wanted men; the law wants them for murder. I reiterate, this warrant states "dead or alive." When Django and myself executed these men on sight, we were operating within our legal boundaries. Now, I realize passions are high, but I must warn you, the penalty for taking deadly force against a officer of the court in the performance of his duty is, you will be hung by the neck until you are dead.
Dr. King Schultz: [pause] May I please remove the warrant from my pocket so you may examine it?
Big Daddy: [Resting his rifle on his shoulder] Gimme.
Dr. King Schultz: Satisfied? May I have that back?
Big Daddy: Get off my land!
Django: [as Schultz prepares to pour the beer] What kind of dentist are you?
Dr. King Schultz: [smiles] Ha!
[Schultz fills the beer glasses from the tap]
Dr. King Schultz: Despite that cart, I haven't practiced dentistry in five years. But these days, I practice a new profession...
[Schultz grabs the glasses filled with beer and gives a drink to Django]
Dr. King Schultz: Bounty hunter.
[Schultz sits down with his own glass]
Dr. King Schultz: Do you know what a bounty hunter is?
Dr. King Schultz: Well, the way the slave trade deals in human lives for cash, a bounty hunter deals in corpses.
[Schultz clinks his beer glass to Django's]
Dr. King Schultz: Prost!
Dr. King Schultz: The state places a bounty on a man's head. I track that man, I find that man, I kill that man.
Dr. King Schultz: After I've killed him, I transport that man's corpse back to the authorities. Sometimes that's easier said than done. I show that corpse to the authorities, proving yes, indeed, I truly have killed him, at which point the authorities pay me the bounty. So, like slavery, it's a flesh for cash business.
Dr. King Schultz: [after Django has shot through a bottle] *That's* accurate.
Bag Head #2: Anybody bring any extra bags?
Unnamed Baghead: No! Nobody brought an extra bag!
Bag Head #2: I'm just askin'!
Unnamed Baghead: Do we have to wear 'em when we ride?
Big Daddy: Well... shitfire! If you don't wear it as you ride up, that just defeats the purpose!
Unnamed Baghead: Well I can't see in this fuckin' thing! I can't breath in this fuckin' thing! And I can't ride in this fuckin' thing!
Willard: Well fuck all y'all, I'm goin' home! You know I watched my wife work all day getting 30 bags together for you ungrateful sons of bitches, and all I can hear is criticize, criticize, criticize! From now on, don't ask me or mine for nuthin!
Big Daddy: Now, look! Let's not forget why we're here. We got to kill a nigger over that hill there. And we gotta make a lesson out of him.
Bag Head #2: Okay, I'm confused. Are the bags on or off?
Unnamed Baghead: I think... we all think... the bag was a nice idea.
[mumbled agreement among others]
Unnamed Baghead: . But... I'm not pointin' any fingers... they coulda been done better. So, how 'bout... no bags this time. But next time, we do the bags right and then we go full regalia.
Big Daddy: Wait a minute! I didn't say no bags.
Bag Head #2: But nobody can see.
Big Daddy: So?
Bag Head #2: So it'd be nice to see.
Big Daddy: God dammit! This is a raid! I can't see, you can't see. So what? All that matters is can the fucking horse see? That's a raid!
U.S. Marshall Gill Tatum: [the Marshall has arrived to confront Dr Schultz] This is U.S. Marshall Gill Tatum.
Dr. King Schultz: Wunderbar, Marshall! I have relieved myself of all weapons, and just as you have instructed, I am ready to step outside, with my hands raised above my head. I trust, as a representative of the criminal justice system of The United States of America, I shan't be shot down in the street, by either you or your deputies, before I've had my day in court.
U.S. Marshall Gill Tatum: You mean like you did our sheriff?
Dr. King Schultz: Yes, that's exactly what I mean! Do I have your word as a lawman, not to shoot me down like a dog in the street?
U.S. Marshall Gill Tatum: Well, as much as we'd all enjoy seein' somethin' like that, ain't nobody gonna cheat the hangman in my town.
Dr. King Schultz: Fair enough Marshall, here we come!
Dr. King Schultz: They're a little tense out there. So don't make any quick movements, and let me do the talking.
U.S. Marshall Gill Tatum: Come ahead. You unarmed?
Dr. King Schultz: Yes indeed we are. Marshall Tatum, may I address you and your deputies, and apparently the entire town of Daughtrey, as to the incident that just occurred?
U.S. Marshall Gill Tatum: Go on...
Dr. King Schultz: My name is Dr. King Schultz, and like yourself, marshall, I am a servant of the court. The man lying dead in the dirt, who the good people of Daughtrey saw fit to elect as their sheriff, who went by the name of Bill Sharp, is actually a wanted outlaw by the name of Willard Peck, with a price on his head of two hundred dollars. Now, that's two hundred dollars, dead or alive.
U.S. Marshall Gill Tatum: The hell you say!
Dr. King Schultz: I'm aware this is probably disconcerting news, but I'm willing to wager this man was elected sheriff sometime in the last two years? I know this because three years ago, he was rustling cattle from the B.C. Corrigan Cattle Company of Lubbock, Texas. Now this is a warrant, made out by circuit court Judge Henry Allen Laudermilk of Austin, Texas. You're encouraged to wire him. He'll back up who I am, and who your dear departed sheriff was.
[He and Django lower their arms]
Dr. King Schultz: In other words Marshall, you owe me two hundred dollars.
Stephen: Hold your fire. Stop shooting, goddammit!
[Django is hesitating to kill Smitty Bacall]
Dr. King Schultz: [teasing] Ooh. What happened to Mister "I Wanna Shoot White Folks For Money"?
Django: His son's with him.
Dr. King Schultz: Well, good. He'll have a loved one with him. Maybe even share a last word. That's better than most of them get. Damn sight better than he deserves.
[Django still hesitates]
Dr. King Schultz: Put down the rifle.
[Django cocks back the safety and puts the rifle down]
Dr. King Schultz: Don't worry, I'm not mad at you. Let's take out Smitty Bacall's handbill.
[hands it to Django]
Dr. King Schultz: Now, read it out loud. Consider that today's lesson.
Django: [stumbles while reading] "Wanted... dead or alive. Smitty Bacall and the Smitty Bacall G..."
Dr. King Schultz: Gang.
Django: "Gang. For murder and... s-stagecoach ro... robbery. Seven zero-zero-zero..."
Dr. King Schultz: Seven thousand.
Dr. King Schultz: Thousand.
Django: "Seven thousand... dollars for Smitty Bacall, one thousand, and five hundred dollars for each of his... gang m..."
Dr. King Schultz: Mem...?
Django: "Members. Known members of the Smitty Bacall Gang are as follas..."
Dr. King Schultz: Follows.
Django: "Follows. Dandy Michaels, Gerald Nash and..."
Dr. King Schultz: [finishes for him] Crazy Craig Koons.
[points to the portrait on the poster]
Dr. King Schultz: *That* is who Smitty Bacall is. If Smitty Bacall wanted to start a farm at 22, they would never have printed that.
[takes back the handbill]
Dr. King Schultz: But Smitty Bacall wanted to rob stagecoaches, and he didn't mind killing people to do it. Do you want to save your wife by doing what I do? This is what I do. I kill people and sell their corpses for cash. This corpse is worth seven thousand dollars. Now, quit your pussyfooting and shoot him.
[Django shoots Smitty. His son laughs, thinking it a joke]
Smitty's Son: Pa? Pa!
[runs to his father's body]
Dr. King Schultz: Here. You need to keep this Smitty Bacall handbill.
Dr. King Schultz: It's good luck. You always keep the handbill of your first bounty.
Dr. King Schultz: I can't express the joy I felt conversing in my mother tongue. And Hildi is a charming conversation companion.
Calvin Candie: Well, be careful now, Dr. Schultz. You might have caught yourself a little dose of nigger love. Nigger love's a powerful emotion, boy. It's like a pool of black tar. Once it catches your ass, your caught.
Stephen: Yessir, you stuck!
Lara Lee Candie-Fitzwilly: I don't know, doctor. You can lay on all the German sweet talk you want, but it looks like this pony's got big eyes for Django.
Dr. King Schultz: Well, naturally, it is the soaring eagle that attracts her attention, not the plucked chicken.
Dr. King Schultz: You poor devils.