Doctor Who: [speaking rapidly] Romana, hello, how are you? I see the Count roped you in as a lab assistant. What are you making for him? A model railway? Gallifreyan egg timer? I hope you're not making a time machine. I shall be very angry.
Count Scarlioni: Doctor, how very nice to see you again. Seems like only 474 years since we last met.
Duggan: You're mad. Insane. You're inhuman!
Count Scarlioni: Quite so. When I compare my race to yours, human, I take the word "inhuman" as a great compliment.
Doctor Who: The silent type, eh? I once knew a boy like you. Never said a word, very taciturn. Well, I said to him, there's no point in talking if you've got nothing to say. Did well in the end, though. Name of Shakespeare. Ever read any Shakespeare? Countess?
Countess: A little.
[opens a panel and takes out a book]
Countess: Hamlet! First draft.
Doctor Who: What? That's been missing for centuries.
Countess: It's quite genuine, I assure you.
Doctor Who: I know. I recognize the handwriting.
Doctor Who: No, mine. He sprained his wrist writing sonnets. Wonderful stuff. "To be or not to be, that's the question. Whether tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune or to take arms against a sea of troubles and..." Take arms against a sea of troubles? That's a mixed - I told him that was a mixed metaphor and he would insist!
Countess: [giggles] Oh Doctor, I'm quite convinced that you're perfectly mad.
Doctor Who: Only Nor-norwest. Nobody's perfect. If you think I'm mad because I say I met Shakespeare, where do you think your precious Count got that?
Countess: He's a collector. He has money and contacts.
Doctor Who: Contacts? Human contacts? How much do you really know about him, eh? I think rather less than you imagine.
Doctor Who: I can't let you fool about with time.
Count Scarlioni: What else do YOU ever do?
Doctor Who: Ah, well, I'm a professional. I know what I'm doing.
Scaroth: Goodbye, my dear. I'm sorry you had to die, but then, in a short while, you will have ceased ever to have existed.
Art Gallery Visitor: [admiring the TARDIS] For me, one of the most curious things about this piece is its wonderful... afunctionalism.
Art Gallery Visitor: Yes. I see what you mean. Divorced from its function and seen purely as a piece of art, its structure of line and color is curiously counterpointed by the redundant vestiges of its function.
Art Gallery Visitor: And since it has no call to be here, the art lies in the fact that it *is* here.
[Doctor, Romana and Duggan dash in and enter the TARDIS; it dematerializes]
Art Gallery Visitor: Exquisite. Absolutely exquisite.
[They've gone back in time 400 million years]
Doctor Who: [dips his hand into a pool of black sludge] The amniotic fluid from which all life on Earth will spring, where the amino acids fuse to form minute cells. Cells which eventually evolve into vegetable and animal life. You, Duggan.
[he rubs some onto Duggan's hand]
Duggan: I come from that, that soup?
Doctor Who: Yes. Well, not that soup exactly. It's inert, there's no life in it yet. It's waiting on a massive dose of radiation.
Romana: The Jagaroth ship?
Doctor Who: Yes. The explosion that caused Scarlioni to splinter in time also caused the birth of the human race. And that's what's about to happen. The birth of life itself.
Duggan: Here, while we watch?
Doctor Who: No, no. If we were watching we'd be in dead trouble. We've got to stop Scaroth.
Doctor Who: Yes, that's his real name. If we don't stop him, the entire human race will cease to exist instantly.
Scaroth: Keep out of my way. I must get to the ship.
Doctor Who: No, Scaroth, you can't!
Scaroth: I'm in that ship, I'm in the warp control cabin. I must stop myself pressing the button.
Doctor Who: No, Scaroth, no! You've pressed it once. You've thrown the dice once, you don't get a second throw!
Scaroth: But I will splinter in time again, and all my people will be killed!
Doctor Who: No! The explosion that you in there are about to trigger off will give birth to the human race. The moment your race kills itself, another is born. That has happened, it will happen.
Scaroth: What do I care of the human race? Scum! The tools of my salvation!
Doctor Who: No, the product of your destruction! History cannot change, it cannot!
Scaroth: [raising his arms likes he's going to do a karate chop] I WILL CHANGE IT!
[Duggan punches him, knocking him to the ground]
Doctor Who: Duggan! Duggan... I think that was possibly the most important punch in history.
Duggan: Where do you two come from?
Doctor Who: From? Well, I suppose the best way to find out where you've come from is to find out where you're going and then work backwards.
Duggan: Where are you going?
Doctor Who: I don't know.
Romana: Nor do I.
Doctor Who: Goodbye.
Doctor Who: [trying to hail a taxi] Is no one interested in history?
Doctor Who: If you're thinking of going back in time, you'd better forget it.
Count Scarlioni: And why do you say that?
Doctor Who: Well, because I'm going to stop you.
Count Scarlioni: No, on the contrary, Doctor, you're going to help me.
Doctor Who: I am?
Count Scarlioni: You are indeed. And if you do not, it'll be so much the worse for you, for this young lady, and for thousands of other people I could mention if I happened to have the Paris telephone directory on my person.