Sir William Gull: One day men will look back and say that I gave birth to the twentieth century.
Abberline: You're not going to see the twentieth century.
[after trying to kiss Abberline and he refuses]
Mary Kelly: What? You think I was paying you back? I didn't mean it as business. I'm still a woman, they haven't taken that away from me, not yet anyways!
[Abberline proceeds to shove her against the wall and kiss her passionately]
Jack the Ripper: Why have you called me here, Netley.
Netley, the Coachman: It's just... you say only three more have to be killed. I don't know if I can do it anymore. It's in all the papers. I'm just a simple chap, sir. I'm not a great man like you. I just don't know where I am anymore.
Jack the Ripper: There, there Netley. I shall
tell you where we are. We're in the darkest region of the human brain, a radiant abyss where men go to find themselves.
Netley, the Coachman: I don't understand, sir.
Jack the Ripper: Hell, Netley. We are in hell.
Abberline: [about Polly's murder] I'm waiting for the police surgeon's report for more details.
Sir Charles Warren: [sits at his desk while smoking a cigarette] I see. Well, one thing's for certain; an Englishman didn't do it.
[Warren pulls up a newspaper clipping of American Natives]
Sir Charles Warren: Maybe one of these Red
Indians wandered into Whitechapel and indulged his natural inclinations.
[Abberline looks doubtfully at the drawing]
Abberline: With all due respect, sir, I believe this was done by someone with at least a working knowledge of dissection. An educated man, such as a doctor...
Sir Charles Warren: [quickly interjects] An educated man? That's
preposterous! No well-bred man would do this!
[pause]
Sir Charles Warren: Probably a tradesman or a butcher...
Abberline: [nods] A tradesman is a possibility, sir, yes...
[pause]
Abberline: But there's a strong indication against it. There was a sprig of grapes under her body.
Sir Charles
Warren: What are you driving at?
Abberline: No one in Whitechapel, no matter what their trade, could afford grapes. Obviously, they were given to her by the killer. It follows that he must be someone with money.
Masonic Governor: You stand before your peers, masons and doctors both.
Sir William Gull: I have no peers present here.
Masonic Governor: What?
Sir William Gull: No man amongst you is fit to judge... the mighty art that I have wrought. Your rituals are empty oaths you neither understand nor live by. The Great
Architect speaks to me. He is the balance where my deeds are weighed and judged... not you.
Abberline: Why?
Sir Charles Warren: Are you questioning my decision?
Abberline: No, sir, I just simply want to know why.
Polly Nichols: [to her John] All right. We can do it here, but hurry up.
[they start to undress]
Polly Nichols: The bobbies are trackin' us!
Polly's John: Right.
[he pulls down his pants]
Polly's John: Gotta get the old man hard first.
Polly Nichols: Give it here. I'll put it in meself!
[she grabs
his genitals]
Polly's John: Is that in?
Polly Nichols: Of course it is. Come on!
Polly's John: No, it's not. Ya got it stuck between yer bleedin' legs!
Polly Nichols: [frustratingly] No, I haven't! Come on!
Polly's John: I knows it when I feels it!
[they start copulating against the wooden fence]
Sgt. Peter Godley: Right, once more into the breach, gentlemen!
[the police constables remain where they are, confused]
Sgt. Peter Godley: Dismissed.