Sherlock Holmes: [voice-over] Head cocked to the left, partial deafness in ear: first point of attack. Two: throat; paralyze vocal chords, stop scream. Three: got to be a heavy drinker, floating rib to the liver. Four: finally, drag in left leg, fist to patella. Summary prognosis: unconscious in ninety seconds, martial efficacy quarter of an hour at best. Full faculty recovery: unlikely.
Dr. John Watson: I like the hat.
Sherlock Holmes: Thanks, I just picked it up.
Dr. John Watson: You remember your revolver?
Sherlock Holmes: Oh, knew I forgot something. Thought I left the stove on.
Dr. John Watson: You did.
Sherlock Holmes: I think that's quite enough. You are a doctor, after all.
[Watson feels the henchman's pulse and lets him fall to the floor]
Sherlock Holmes: Always nice to see you, Watson.
Lord Blackwood: Sherlock Holmes... and his loyal dog. Tell me, Doctor, as a medical man, have you enjoyed my work?
Dr. John Watson: Let me show you how much I've enjoyed it...
[He rushes at Blackwood, Holmes holds him back]
Sherlock Holmes: Watson, don't! Observe...
[Watson sees Blackwood's trap]
Dr. John Watson: How did you see that?
Sherlock Holmes: Because I was looking for it.
[Holmes has been firing a gun into the wall]
Dr. John Watson: Permission to enter the armory?
Sherlock Holmes: Granted.
[He fires again]
Sherlock Holmes: Watson, I am in the process of inventing a device which muffles the sound of a gunshot.
[He yells in pain as Watson opens the curtains, letting sunlight into the room]
Dr. John Watson: It's not working.
Sherlock Holmes: My mind rebels at stagnation! Give me problems! Give me work!
Sherlock Holmes: There's only at one case that intrigues me at present. The curious case of Mrs. Hudson, the absentee landlady. I've been studying her comings and goings, they appear most... sinister.
Mrs. Hudson: Tea, Mr. Holmes?
Sherlock Holmes: Is it poisoned, Nanny?
Mrs. Hudson: There's enough of that in you already.
Mary Morstan: It does seem a little far-fetched, though. Making all these grand assumptions based on such tiny details...
Sherlock Holmes: Well, that's not quite true, is it? In fact, the little details are by far the most important.
Sherlock Holmes: You have the grand gift of silence, Watson; it makes you quite invaluable as a companion.
[Watson punches him in the face]
Sherlock Holmes: Well, that's not quite true, is it? In fact, the little details are by far the most important.
Sherlock Holmes: You have the grand gift of silence, Watson; it makes you quite invaluable as a companion.
[Watson punches him in the face]
Sherlock Holmes: It's not in your face, it's in my hand.
Dr. John Watson: Get what's in your hand out of my face.
[about Blackwood coming back from the grave]
Sherlock Holmes: Have the newspapers got wind of it yet?
Constable Clark: Well, that's what we're trying to avoid, sir.
Sherlock Holmes: Certainly. What's the major concern?
Constable Clark: Panic. Sheer bloody panic, sir.
Sherlock Holmes: It's a matter of professional integrity! No girl wants to marry a doctor who can't tell if a man's dead or not!
Sherlock Holmes: [portentously] And on the third day...
Sherlock Holmes: What of the coffin, Lestrade?
Inspector Lestrade: Well, we are in the process of bringing it up.
[Holmes looks at the unmoving constables]
Sherlock Holmes: Indeed? What stage of the process? Contemplative?
[Blackwood's coffin is opened]
Inspector Lestrade: That's not Blackwood!
Sherlock Holmes: Well, now we have a firm grasp of the obvious.
Sherlock Holmes: The question is not if but how. The game's afoot.
Dr. John Watson: "Follow your spirit..."
Dr. John Watson, Sherlock Holmes: "And upon this charge, cry god for Harry, England and St. George!"
Sherlock Holmes: [to Watson] Never theorize before you have data. Invariably, you end up twisting facts to suit theories, instead of theories to suit facts.
Dr. John Watson: What of Mary?
Palm Reader: M for Mary. For marriage. Oh, you will be married!
Dr. John Watson: [nodding his head slowly] Go on.
Palm Reader: [looking intensely at Watson's palm] Oh, I see pattern tablecloth and... Oh, china figurines and... Ugh! Lace doilies!
Sherlock Holmes: [pretending to be deep in thought] Mmm... Doilies!
Dr. John Watson: Lace... doilies? Holmes! Does your depravity know no bounds?
Sherlock Holmes: No!
Palm Reader: [continuing her prophecies about Mary] Oh, then she turns fat and, ugh, she has a beard and...
Sherlock Holmes: What of the warts?
Palm Reader: Ah, she's covered in warts!
Dr. John Watson: [interrupting the palm reader] Enough, enough!
Sherlock Holmes: Are they extensive?
Dr. John Watson: Please, enough!
[Holmes and Watson are searching Reordan's house]
Sherlock Holmes: There's one odor I can't put my finger on. Is it candy floss, molasses...? Ah! Barley sugar.
[Watson turns around to see two goons enter, one holding a... ]
Dr. John Watson: ...Toffee apple.
Sherlock Holmes: [notices that the goons plan to burn the joint down] Let me guess... Judging by your arsonist tool kit, you're here to destroy this place, along with all the evidence therein.
Thug: Just one minute, boys.
[calls]
Thug: Oh, Dredger!
[as Dredger enters, Holmes and Watson look up... and up]
Dredger: Il y a un problème?
Sherlock Holmes: [after 2 henchmen call in Dredger, to Watson] Meat... or potatoes?
Sherlock Holmes: [after being tossed across the room] Un moment, s'il vous plait.
Dredger: [affably] Je ne suis pas pressé.
[Holmes picks up a gadget from the midget's workshop and it turns out to be a taser, that sends Dredger flying across the room, crushing another thug who has Watson pinned]
Dr. John Watson: Holmes... what is that?
Sherlock Holmes: Je ne sais pas.
Dredger: Cour, petit lapin, cour.
Sherlock Holmes: Avec plaisir.
Sherlock Holmes: Watson, what have you done?
Sherlock Holmes: You've never complained about my methods before.
Dr. John Watson: I'm not complaining.
Sherlock Holmes: You're not? What do you call this?
Dr. John Watson: I never complain! How am I complaining? When do I ever complain about you practicing the violin at three in the morning, or your mess, your general lack of hygiene, or the fact that you steal my clothes?
Sherlock Holmes: Uh, we have a barter system...
Dr. John Watson: When have I ever complained about you setting fire to my rooms?
Sherlock Holmes: Our rooms...
Dr. John Watson: The rooms! Or, or, the fact that you experiment on my dog?
Sherlock Holmes: Our dog...
Dr. John Watson: The dog!
Sherlock Holmes: Gladstone is our dog!
Dr. John Watson: No, not you, Mary and I. You are not...
Sherlock Holmes: What? Invited? Why would I be not invited to my own brother's country home, Watson? Now you are not making any sense!
Dr. John Watson: You are not human!
Inspector Lestrade: In another life, Mr. Holmes, you would have made a excellent criminal.
Sherlock Holmes: Yes, and you an excellent policeman.
Sir Thomas: Mr. Holmes, apologies for summoning you like this. I'm sure it's quite a mystery as to where you are, and who I am...
Sherlock Holmes: As to where I am, I was, admittedly, lost for a moment, between Charing Cross and Holborn, but I was saved by the bread shop on Saffron Hill. The only baker to use a certain French glaze on their loaves - a Brittany sage. After that, the carriage forked left, then right, and then the tell-tale bump at the Fleet Conduit. And as to who you are, that took every ounce of my not-inconsiderable experience. The letters on your desk were addressed to a Sir Thomas Rotherham. Lord Chief Justice, that would be the official title. Who you *really* are is, of course, another matter entirely. Judging by the sacred ox on your ring, you're the secret head of the Temple of the Four Orders in whose headquarters we now sit, located on the northwest corner of St. James Square, I think. As to the mystery, the only mystery is why you bothered to blindfold me at all.
[a chambermaid enters Irene Adler's room and screams when she sees Holmes, handcuffed naked to the bed with a pillow covering his groin]
Sherlock Holmes: Madam, I need you to remain calm. And trust me, I'm a professional. Beneath this pillow, lies the key to my release.
[the Maid screams again and runs out; cut to later in a carriage]
Sherlock Holmes: Of course, she mis-interpreted my meaning entirely.
Constable Clark: Naturally, sir.
Sherlock Holmes: And chamber maids were once such a liberal breed.
Constable Clark: My wife's a chamber maid,sir.
[pause]
Constable Clark: Besides, it's a good thing she was offended, sir. Otherwise we'd never have found you.
Sherlock Holmes: Ah, yes.
[another pause]
Constable Clark: Just joking about the wife, sir.
Sherlock Holmes: Data, data, data. I cannot make bricks without clay.
Inspector Lestrade: Excuse me, my lord. I know it's unorthodox, but Mr. Holmes here has been making some serious accusations about you...
[Lestrade lifts his lapel, showing a membership pin from the Temple of the Four Orders]
Inspector Lestrade: ...and the Order, sir.
Lord Coward: I see.
Sherlock Holmes: Well, at least that solves the great mystery of how you became Inspector.
[Lestrade turns and punches Holmes in the stomach]
Inspector Lestrade: Begging your pardon, my lord, but I've been wanting to do that for a long time
Sherlock Holmes: Go along now. I won't be chasing you anymore. Fare thee well.
Irene Adler: I don't wanna run, anymore.
Sherlock Holmes: First, the world will see you for what you are: a fraud. Then you'll be hanged - properly, this time.
Lord Blackwood: It's a long journey from here to the rope.
Sherlock Holmes: [to Lord Blackwood] I wonder if they'd let Watson and me dissect your brain. After you hang, of course. I'd wager there would be some deformity that would be scientifically significant. In that way, at least, you could serve some kind of useful purpose.
Irene Adler: I've never woke up in handcuffs before.
Sherlock Holmes: I have. Naked.
[on Moriarty]
Irene Adler: Please don't underestimate him. He's just as brilliant as you are. And infinitely more devious.
Sherlock Holmes: We'll see about that.
Irene Adler: You'll miss me, Sherlock.
Sherlock Holmes: Sadly... yes.
[Watson and Mary enter Baker Street to find Holmes hanging from a noose]
Dr. John Watson: Don't worry, dear. Suicide is not in his repertoire. He's far too fond of himself for that.
[pokes Holmes sharply]
Dr. John Watson: Holmes!
Sherlock Holmes: [wakes up] Oh, good afternoon. I was attempting to determinethe means by which Blackwood survived his execution - clearing your good name, as it were - but it had a surprisingly soporific effect, and I found myself carried off into the arms of Morpheus like a caterpillar in a cocoon.
[to Mary]
Sherlock Holmes: Good afternoon, dear.
Dr. John Watson: Get on with it, Holmes.
Sherlock Holmes: Well, cleverly concealed in the hangman's knot was a hook... oh, my, I think my legs have fallen asleep. I should probably come down.
Mary Morstan: John, shouldn't we help him down?
Dr. John Watson: No, no, I hate to cut him off mid-stream. Carry on.
Sherlock Holmes: Well, the executioner attached it to a harness which allowed the weight to be distributed around the waist and the neck to remain intact. Oh, lord, I can't feel my cheeks. Might we continue this at ground level?
Dr. John Watson: How did you manage it, Holmes?
Sherlock Holmes: I managed it with braces, belts and a coat-hook. Please, Watson, my tongue is going, soon I'll be of no use to you at all.
Dr. John Watson: Worse things could happen.
Sherlock Holmes: There is a toxin, refined from the nectar of the rhododendron ponticum. It's quite infamous in the region of Turkey bordering the Black Sea for its ability to induce an apparently mortal paralysis. Enough to deceive even a medical mind as tenacious and well-trained as yours. It's known locally as...
Mary Morstan: [noticing] What's wrong with Gladstone?
Sherlock Holmes: ...mad honey disease. Oh, he's just demonstrating the very effect I've just described. He doesn't mind.
[last lines]
Sherlock Holmes: Case re-opened.
