Life, liberty and the pursuit of vengeance. (taglines)
You want me to play a black slaver? Ain't nothin' lower than the black slaver. A black slaver is lower than the head house nigger, and buddy, that's pretty fuckin' low.
Gentlemen, you had my curiosity. But now you have my attention.
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?
[Showing Django and Schultz a human skull] This is Ben. He's an 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. Growin' up the son of a huge plantation owner in Mississippi puts a white man in contact with a whole lotta black faces. I spent my whole life here, right here in Candyland, surrounded by black faces. Now seein' 'em every day, day in and 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 woulda cut my daddy's goddamn throat, an' it wouldn't-a taken me no fifty years of doin' neither. But he never did. Why not? See, the science of phrenology is crucial to understandin' the separation of our two species. [Picking up a hacksaw] And the skull of the African here? The area associated with submissiveness is larger than any human or any other sub-human species on planet Earth. [Saws a piece off the back of the skull, brushes it off, and holds it up] If you examine this piece of skull here you'll notice three distinct dimples. Here, here and here. Now, if I was holdin' the skull of an Issac Newton or a Galileo, these three dimples would be found 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. [To Django] Now bright boy, I will admit you are pretty clever. But if I took this hammer here, and I bashed in your skull with it, you would have the same three dimples in the same place as old Ben.
[To slaves that had been chained to Django] 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, when I'm gone, you lift that horse off the remaining Speck and carry him to the nearest town, which would be at least thirty seven miles back the way you came. Or two, (throws them keys) you unshackle yourselves, take that rifle over there, put a bullet in his head, bury the two of them deep, and make your way to a more enlightened part of the country. The choice is yours. (starts to ride off, stops) Oh, and on the off-chance that there are any astronomy aficionados amongst you, the North Star is that one. Tata.
Do you know what they're going to call you? The "Fastest Gun in the South".
[To Django] Your black ass been 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 is comin' up with all kinds of ways to kill your ass. Now mind you, most of them ideas had to do with fuckin' with your fun parts. Now that may seem like a good idea, but truth is when you snip a nigga's nuts most of 'em bleed out in oh, about seven minutes. Most of 'em. Well, more than most. Then I says, "Shitfire, the niggers we sells to LeQuint Dickey got it worse than that!" And they still saying, "Let's whip him to death!" or "Throw him to the mandingos! Feed him to Stonesipher's dogs!" I said "What's so special about that? We do that shit all the time. Hell's bells, the niggers we sells to LeQuint Dickey got it worse than that!" Lo and behold! Out of nowhere, Miss Lara come up with the bright idea of givin' your ass to the LeQuint Dickey Mining Company. And as a slave of the LeQuint Dickey Mining Company, henceforth till 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, gi'ya a number and a sledgehammer and say, "Get to work!" One word of sass, they cuts out your tongue. They good at it too. You won't bleed out. Oh, they does that real good! They gonna work yout, all day every day, till your back give out. Then they gonna hitcha in the head with a hammer, and throw your ass down the nigga hole, and that will be the story of you, Django!
[Last words] DJANGO! You uppity son of a--
Django... Django... Django... You got sand, Django. Boy's got sand! I got no use for a nigger with sand.
Ace Speck: Move it!
Dr King Schultz: My good man, did you simply get carried away with your dramatic gesture, or are you pointing that weapon at me with lethal intention?
Ace Speck: (cocks rifle) Last chance, fancy pants.
Dr Schultz: Oh very well. (drops his latern and draws his revolver, shooting Ace and Dicky's horse in the head, the latter falling under the rider and crushing his leg)
Dr Schultz: I'm sorry to put a bullet in your beast, but I didn't want you to do anything rash before you had a moment to come to your senses.
Dicky Speck: You goddamn son of a bitch! You shot Roscoe! And you killed Ace!
Dr Schultz: I only shot your brother once he threatened to shoot me, and I believe I have (counts slaves) one, two, three, four, five, six, seven witness who can attest to that fact.
Dicky Speck: My leg's busted!
Dr Schultz: (drily) No doubt.
[Django and Schultz walk into the saloon in Daughtrey]
Dr. King Schultz: Good morning, innkeeper! Two beers for two weary travelers.
Saloon Keeper Pete: It's still a bit early. We won't be open for another hour. By then, we'll be servin' breakfast. [sees Django] Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! What the hell do you think you're doing, boy?! Get that nigger out of here! [runs out of the saloon] Help! Help!
Schultz: Innkeeper! Remember, get the Sheriff, not the Marshal!
Pete: Sheriff! Sheriff!
Schultz: Alas. Now we must act as our own bartender. Sit down, my boy. [drafts two beer mugs]
Django: What kinda dentist are you?
Schultz:[laughs] Despite that cart I haven't practiced dentistry in five years. But these days I practice a new profession: bounty hunter. Do you know what a bounty hunter is?
Django: No.
Schultz: Well, the way the slave trade deals in human lives for cash, a bounty hunter deals in corpses. [clicks his tongue] Hat. [Django moves his hat aside; Schultz set the two beers on the table] Prost? The state places a bounty on a man's head. I track that man, I find that man, I kill that man. 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.
Django: What's a bounty?
Schultz: It's like a reward.
Django: You kill people? And they give you a reward?
Schultz: Certain people, yeah.
Django: Bad people?
Schultz: Ah, badder they are, bigger the reward. Which brings me to you, and I must admit I'm at a bit of a quandary when it comes to you. 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. So, I would like the two of us to enter into an agreement. I'm looking for the Brittle brothers. However in this endeavor I'm at a slight disadvantage in so far as I have no idea what they look like. But you do...don'tcha?
Django: I know what they look like all right.
Schultz: Good. So, here's my agreement. You travel with me until we find them.
Django: Where we goin'?
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 them. And when we find them, you point them out, and I kill them. You do that, I agree to give you your freedom, twenty-five dollars per Brittle Brother, that's seventy-five dollars — and, as if on cue, here comes the Sheriff.
Sheriff Bill Sharp: Okay, boys! Fun's over. Come on out. [Schultz and Django step outside] Alright, folks, calm down! Go about your business. These jokers will be gone soon. Now, why y'all wanna come into my town and start trouble, and scare all these nice people? You ain't got nothin' better to do than to come into Bill Sharp's town and show your ass? [Schultz advances on the sheriff and shoots him with a concealed derringer.]
Pedestrian: What did you just do to our Sheriff? [Schultz walks around the wounded sheriff and shoots him again in the head]
Schultz:[to the bartender]Now you can get the marshal.
Pete: Marshal! Marshal!
Marshal Gill Tatum: You in the saloon! You got a hundred rifles aimed at every way outta that buildin'! You got one chance to get out of this alive! You and your nigger come out right now with your hands over your head and I mean right now!
Dr. King Schultz: Is this the marshal I have the pleasure of addressing?
Marshal: Yes it is. This is U.S. Marshal Gill Tatum!
Schultz: Na wunderbar, Marshal! 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! [Marshal Tatum spits out some tobacco] 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!
Marshal: You mean like you did our sheriff? Shot 'em down like a dog in the street!
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?
Marshal: Well, much as we'd all enjoy seein' something like that, ain't nobody gonna cheat the hangman in my town!
Schultz: Fair enough marshal. Here we come! [to Django] They're a little tense out there, so don't make any quick movements and let me do the talking.
[Schultz and Django exit the saloon, hands raised, with Schultz clutching a piece of paper]
Marshal: Come ahead. You unarmed?
Schultz: Yes, indeed we are. Marshal Tatum, may I address you and your deputies, and apparently the entire town of Daughtrey, as to the incident that just transpired?
Marshal: Go on.
Schultz: My name is Dr. King Schultz. Like yourself, marshal, I'm 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.
Marshal: The hell you say!
Schultz: Well I'm aware this is probably disconcerting news, but I'm willing to wager this man was elected sheriff sometime in the past two years?
Marshal: Yeah.
Schultz: I know this because three years ago he was rustling cattle from the B.C. Corrigan Cattle Company of Lubbock, Texas. Now this[pointing at paper] 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, marshal, you owe me two hundred dollars.
Django: I'll be damned.
Dr. King Schultz: Mr. Bennett, I must remind you Django is a free man. You cannot treat him like a slave. Now, within the bounds of good taste, he must be treated as an extension of myself.
Big Daddy: Django isn't a slave. Django is a free man. You can't treat him like any of the other niggers around here 'cause he ain't like any of the other niggers around here. You got it?
Betina: You want us to treat him like white folks? [Schultz nods]
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. Ah, what's the name of that peckerwood boy from town that works with the glass? His momma worked over at the lumber yard.
House Servant: Oh, you mean Jerry.
Big Daddy: That's the boy's name. Jerry! Betina, you know Jerry. Don't you, sugar?
Betina: Yes sir, Big Daddy.
Big Daddy: Well, that's it then. Just treat him like you would Jerry.
[Little Raj and Big John Brittle are preparing to whip Little Jody]
Little Raj Brittle: Come on, now.
Little Jody: No, no, please!
Little Raj: Come on, girlie!
Little Jody: Please!
Little Raj: Come on. Get you set up now.
Big John Brittle: "And the Lord said; The fear of ye and the dread of ye shall be on every beast of the earth." [cracks his whip]
Little Raj: Come here now, woman!
Little Jody: No, please!
Little Raj: You'd better give me that arm! Okay, she's ready!
Big John: And after this, we'll see if you break eggs again.
Django: John Brittle! You remember me? [shoots Big John with his concealed derringer]
Django: I like the way you die, boy. [Big John collapses stiffly]
Little Raj: Goddamn son of a bitch! [fumbles his revolver]
Django:[whipping Little Raj with Big John's whip] Keep it funny!
Django:[to the other slaves] Y'all wanna see somethin? [grabs Little Raj's revolver and shoots him repeatedly]
Dr. King Schultz: [entering on horseback] Who were they?
Django: That's Big John. That's Little Raj.
Schultz: Where's Ellis?
Django: He's the one hightailin' it across that field right now.
Schultz: [aims his rifle] You sure that's him?
Django: Yeah.
Schultz: Positive?
Django: I dunno.
Schultz: You don't know if you're positive?
Django: I dunno what positive means.
Schultz: It means you're sure.
Django: Yes.
Schultz: Yes what?
Django: Yes I'm sure that's Ellis Brittle. [Schultz fires, knocking Ellis to the ground] I'm positive he dead.
Schultz:[noticing Bennett and his men approaching] Django! [Django and Schultz drop their weapons and raise their hands] Everybody calm down. We mean no one else any harm.
Spencer 'Big Daddy' Bennett: Who are you two jokers?
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, Roger Brittle and Ellis Brittle.
Django: They were goin' by the name Schaeffer.
Schultz: You know them by the name of Schaeffer, but the butchers' real name was Brittle. These are wanted men. The law wants 'em for murder. Now, I reiterate, the warrant states dead or alive, so when Mr. Freeman and myself executed these men on sight, we were operating within our legal boundaries. I realize passions are high, but I must warn you, the penalty for taking deadly force against an officer of the court in the performance of his duty is, you'll be hung by the neck until you're dead. May I please remove the warrant from my pocket so you may examine it?
Big Daddy: Gimme. [Schultz hands his warrant to Big Daddy]
Schultz: Satisfied? May I have that back, please?
Big Daddy: Get off my land.
Schultz: Post haste! [to Django] Load up the bodies as quickly as you can and let's get out of here.
[Big Daddy is giving orders to a posse of men with KKK-type masks]
Spencer 'Big Daddy' Bennett: Now, unless they start shootin' first, nobody shoot 'em. That's way too simple for these jokers. We're gonna whup that nigger lover to death. And I'm gonna personally strip and clip that garboon myself! [puts his bag on] Damn. I can't see fuckin' shit out of this thing!
Bradshaw: Are we ready or what?
Big Daddy: Ah hold on, I'm fuckin' with my eye holes! [tears his bag] Oh shit. I just made it worse!
Tennessee Redfish: Who made this goddamn shit?!
O.B.: Willard's wife.
Willard: Well make your own goddamn mask!
Big Daddy: Look! Nobody's sayin' they don't appreciate what Jenny did.
Redfish: Well if all I had to do was cut a hole in a bag, I coulda cut it better than this!
O.B.: 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'm ridin' blind.
Randy: [tearing his bag] Shit. I just made mine worse. Anybody bring any extra bags?
Terry: No! Nobody brought an extra bag!
Randy: I'm just asking!
Doug: 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!
Redfish: [ripping off his bag] Well I can't see in this fucking thing! I can't breathe in this fucking thing and I can't ride in this fucking thing!
Willard: Well fuck all, y'all! I'm goin' home! Ya 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! [tears off his mask] From now on, don't ask me or mine for nothin'! [rides away]
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 outta 'em.
Randy: Okay I'm confused. Are the bags on or off?
Robert: I think, we all think, the bags was a nice idea. But not pointin' any fingers, they coulda been done better. So how about no bags this time, but next time, we do the bags right, and then we go full regalia. [The crowd agrees and starts to remove the bags]
Big Daddy: Wait a minute! I didn't say no bags. [Crowd stops]
Randy: But nobody can see.
Big Daddy: So?
Randy: 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!
Django Freeman: How you know Brunhilde's first master's was German?
Dr. King Schultz: Brunhilde is a German name. If they named her it stands to reason they'd be German.
Django: Lots of gals where you from named Brunhilde?
Schultz: Brunhilde is the name of a character in the most popular of all the German legends.
Django: There's a story 'bout Brunhilde?
Schultz: Yes there is.
Django: Do you know it?
Schultz: Oh every German knows that story. Would you like me to tell you? [Django nods] Well, Brunhilde was a princess. She was the daughter of Wotan, god of all gods. Anyway her father is really mad at her.
Django: What'd she do?
Schultz: I can't exactly remember. She disobeys him in some way. So he puts her on top of a mountain.
Django: Brunhilde's on a mountain?
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 Brunhilde shall remain unless a hero arises brave enough to save her.
Django: Does a fella arise?
Schultz: Yes Django, as a matter of fact he does. A fella named Sigfried.
Django: Does Sigfried save her?
Schultz: [nods] Quite 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 Brunhilde's worth it.
Django: I know how he feels.
Schultz: I think I'm just starting to realize that. Look Django, I don't doubt that one day you'll save your lady love, but I can't let you go into Greenville in a good conscience. A slave auction town in Mississippi isn't the place for you to visit, free or not it's just too dangerous. But let me ask you a question: how do you like the bounty hunting business?
Django: Kill white folks and they pay you for it? What's not to like?
Schultz: I have to admit we make a good team.
Django: I thought you was mad at me for killin' Big John and Little Raj.
Schultz: Yeah, on that occasion you were a tad overzealous, but normally that's a good thing. How'd you like to partner up for the winter?
Django: Whatcha mean partner up?
Schultz: You work with me through the winter till the snow melts. I give you a third of my bounties so we make some money this winter and when the snow melts I'll take you to Greenville myself and we'll find where they sent your wife.
Django: Why you care what happens to me? Why you care if I find my wife?
Schultz: Frankly, I've never given anybody their freedom before, and now that I have I feel vaguely responsible for you. Plus when a German meets a real-life Sigfried that's kind of a big deal. As a German I'm obliged to help you on your quest to rescue your beloved Brunhilde.
[Amerigo Vessepi and Django are having drinks together after Vessepi's slave loses to Candie's in a Mandingo fight]
Schultz: 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?
Candie: You doubt he'd approve, huh?
Schultz: Yes. His approval would be a dubious proposition at best.
Candie: Soft-hearted Frenchy.
Schultz: Alexander Dumas is black.
Billy Crash: [To Django] So y'all bounty hunters, huh? I knew there was somethin' fishy 'bout y'all. We found your wanted posters and book of figures in your saddle bags. I gotta say, I ain't never hearda no black bounty hunter before. Black boy paid to kill white men, how'd ya like that kinda work? Probably pretty good while it lasted, huh? [holding a knife to Django's groin] Time to say goodbye to them nuts, blackie. On three. One. [Django screams in pain] I gotcha. Two. [Django yells a muffled "please!"] Calm down now, here it comes.
Stephen: Captain? Miss Lara wanna see you. Somethin' to do with the old man's funeral. Oh, and she changed her mind 'bout snippin' Django. She gonna give 'em to the LeQuint Dickey people.
Billy Crash: [annoyed] Well she didn't waste a minute tellin' me. How disappointing.
[Candie's family and friends enter Candyland after the funeral. As they enter, Stephen sings "In the Sweet By and By"]
Lara Lee Candie-Fitzwilly: Cora, would you prepare us some coffee?
Stephen: Sheba, you help her.
Cora: Come on.
Stephen: In the sweet...
Django:[singing in the shadows] "...By and by." [walks into view] Oh, y'all gonna be together with Calvin in the by-and-by, just a bit sooner than y'all was expectin'. [shoots the plantation hands as they draw their guns] Billy Crash! Now where were we? Oh, that's right. Last time I seen you, you had your hands on my— [shoots Crash in the groin]
Billy Crash: D-Jango, you black son of a bitch!
Django: The D is silent, hillbilly. [shoots Crash in the head]
Lara Lee: Oh no!
Django: Now, all you black folks, I suggest you get away from all these white folks. Not you, Stephen. You right where you belong. Uh, Cora, before you go would you tell Ms. Lara goodbye?
Cora: Do what now?
Django: I said, tell Ms. Lara goodbye?
Cora: Bye, Ms. Lara! [Django shoots Lara, knocking her into the next room]
Django: Y’all you two run along now. [Cora and Sheba flee from the mansion] Stephen, how you like my new duds? You know, before now I didn't know that burgundy was my color.
Stephen: I count six shots, nigger.
Django: I count two guns, nigger. You said in 76 years on this plantation, you seen all manner-a shit done to niggers. But I notice, you didn't mention kneecappin'. [shoots Stephen in his right knee]
Stephen: Oh God! Motherfucker! Damn it!
Django: Seventy-six years, Stephen. How many niggers you see come and go, huh? Seven thousand? Eight thousand? Nine thousand? Nine thousand, nine hundred and ninty nine? Every single word that came out of Calvin Candie's mouth was nothin' but horseshit. But he was right about one thing: I am that one nigger in 10,000. [Django shoots Stephen in his left knee, who collapses screaming]
Stephen: You son of a bitch! You motherfucker! Oh, sweet Jesus, let me kill this nigger! You ain't gonna get away with this, Django! They gonna catch your black ass. You gonna be on the wanted posters now, nigger! The bounty hunters is gonna lookin' for you. You can run, nigger, but they gonna find your ass! And when they do, oh, Lord, what they gonna do to your ass! They ain't gonna just kill you, nigger! You done fucked up! This Candyland, nigger! You can't destroy Candyland! We been here! There's always gonna be a Candyland! [Django lights the fuse to a batch of dynamite and exits] Can't no nigger gunfighter kill all the white folks in the world! They gonna find your black ass! [Stephen laughs hysterically] Django! You uppity son of a... [Mansion explodes]