Peaky Blinders, Season 6

Thomas Shelby:
Mother. They let you pass through. They wouldn't let me pass.

Thomas Shelby:
I was angry with my friend. I told my wrath. My wrath did end. I was angry with my foe. I told it not. My wrath did grow.

Hayden Stagg:
My name's Hayden Stagg. I hear there's some men here from Birmingham looking for me. I was in the banana warehouse playing football with the boys. [Throws his football, which is shot by Isiah]. I'm guessing you gentleman aren't here to kick footballs.

Arthur Shelby:
No. We're here about other business. We like to call it 'Black Star Business.'

Hayden Stagg:
'Black Star' a pub, is it?

Arthur Shelby:
'Black Star'- Yeah, 'Black Star's' a pub. Last pub you'll ever fucking drink in.

Isiah Jesus:
Peaky Blinders take you to the 'Black Star', and all your troubles are done.

Arthur Shelby:
But the pub you drink in, Mr. Stagg is called 'The Dolphin', right? Every night, you're in there. Not to drink. You're there divvying up the day's takings, ain't ya? And there's a woman there. She sings out "Opium for Sale." [Guns are drawn on the dock workers].

Hayden Stagg:
Sit down, boys. The rules says the king puts his head on a block and the game is up.

Arthur Shelby:
Your'e stealing from the Shelby Company Limited. You're stealing from the Peaky Blinders, man. Therefore, punishment is a visit to the 'Black Star' pub. Hmm? But out of kindness, of my heart, your sentence has been commuted. Praise the fucking Lord! And our lovely Ada, eh? Instead...Instead, Mr Hayden Stagg, it's just a beating for you.

Hayden Stagg:
Well, before I take this beating. Arthur Shelby is it, yeah? You know comrade, beneath your sleeves lies the truth. The marks on your arm. Yeah. The stories about you come up the canal. You know, where once you walked fine alone, now you need a stick.

Isiah Jesus:
Let's just fucking do it, Arthur.

Arthur Shelby:
You know, for me, it was the morphine they gave us in France. I got a taste for it Arthur. 1924 before I realized the fucking war was over. There's a warehouse full of it just across the yard there. Where the boys play football. And they steal it. Just roll around laughing. And it floats in the air. But I'm strong, comrade.

Isiah Jesus:
Arthur, let's just fucking do it.

Arthur Shelby:
Liar.

Hayden Stagg:
It's me that's due a beating. But it's me who feels sorry for you, Mr Shelby, because you take your beating every hour of every day. Your own blood betrays you because it demands dilution. Sometimes you want to cut a doorway in your arm so your blood can escape and leave you to blessed peace. Yeah.

Arthur Shelby:
Fuck you man.

Hayden Stagg:
I was once where you are now, Arthur. If you're going to do it, do it. But look at me as a man you can be. You've tried Jesus, yeah? Yeah he looked you up and down and he shook his head. Your loved ones. Your wife. Your kids. Jesus and your wife and your kids can't help you. Only you, Arthur Shelby. Only you. Don't count the days. Futile. You get to a hundred and then you wake up and its fucking one again. No, don't build mountains, walk like it's a flat plain. Easy step, by easy step. [Isiah punches him]

Isiah Jesus:
Arthur just give me the fucking word and I'll fucking do it!

Hayden Stagg:
He's your stick, Arthur. Give him the order.

Isiah Jesus:
Arthur, I'm not gonna ask you fucking twice!

Arthur Shelby:
Isiah, leave him alone.

Thomas Shelby:
Remember The January, Arthur? The family boat?

Arthur Shelby:
Yeah.

Thomas Shelby:
A whole family living on something the size of ten of these fucking barrels.

Arthur Shelby:
Hmm.

Thomas Shelby:
Remember that night at Tile Cross? Sixteen of us sleeping on the boat. The coppers come. We all swim like rats. Except for Arthur. Arthur holds them off with a boat hook, all on his own. And I remember. I climbed back up on the lock and I looked back, and I saw you waving that fucking boat hook in the coppers' faces...

Arthur Shelby:
[Laughs]

Thomas Shelby:
On your own. That's when I realized, when I had on you on the ground, all those years ago, it's cause you let me win.

Arthur Shelby:
[Laughs]

Thomas Shelby:
You wanted me to win. You've wanted me to win ever since.

Arthur Shelby:
What chance do I have if you... start doing that again [motioning to the wine]? Eh?

Thomas Shelby:
You'll stop. You'll stop because the family needs you to. It's like that long tunnel on the Dudley stretch. Remember Dudley Canal, line number one, 3,172 yards of fucking pitch blackness? And rats swimming.

Arthur Shelby:
Yeah

Thomas Shelby:
And then we come round the corner and there'd be a shaft of light, and then we'd know. And then, you and me, we'd both know it was nearly done. That's where we are now Arthur. Just a few more yards to go. And then you will change your ways. And I'll change the fucking world.

Hayden Stagg:
Apologies for the initial misunderstanding.

Thomas Shelby:
My brother dealt with it. [Hands Stagg money]. For the care you took.

Hayden Stagg:
Even though I succumbed to temptation?

Thomas Shelby:
Part of the reason my brother is back dealing with it, is down to you. You spoke to him.

Hayden Stagg:
As a comrade.

Thomas Shelby:
The beating is still owed to you.

Hayden Stagg:
Do you still do that kind of work yourself, Thomas Shelby, MP.

Thomas Shelby:
Mr. Stagg, you see, I could use men like you. I have friends, that are in need of guns. Soon there will be a shipment of Thompson submachine guns, coming here from Boston. I need you to unload and store those weapons. There will also be ammunition, like this. [Hands Stagg a bullet with his name on it]. You have a good look. And I need you to take better care of the guns and ammunition than you did of the powder. You understand? Previously, all of my import and export went through Belfast docks. Now we're dealing with Boston, I am considering shifting my supply line to Liverpool. You'll be a very rich man. Don't you ever say thank you?

Hayden Stagg:
[Picks up the bullet]. Thank you.

Hayden Stagg:
Is that why you do it, Mr. Shelby? Is that why keep all this going? To help people say thank you? You could close all this down. You could leave the sport behind. You could live like an ordinary, mortal man. On your gravestone. "An ordinary, mortal man." But instead, you still go around collecting "please" and "thank you" and "sorry" and "forgive me, Mr. Shelby." That what it's all for?

Thomas Shelby:
Want to know? Want to know why I've carried on... all these years. It's so I can do this [aims gun and cocks it at Stagg]. And then, do this [uncocks gun and lowers it]. Feel it?

Hayden Stagg:
I feel it.

Thomas Shelby:
Junk doesn't even come close. [sighs]. Soon, Mr. Stagg, when my last bit of business is done, I will indeed be an ordinary mortal man. You have a good day.

Thomas Shelby:
You know, the thing is Mosley, you're right. You're right, she doesn't deserve me. She doesn't deserve what I am. She doesn't deserve what I will become.

Jack Nelson:
What will you become?

Thomas Shelby:
Truth is, I belong here at this table, with fuckers like you. She doesn't. For all I try to hide it... [scoffs] I'm just one of you. Could there be a sadder ending, eh? [Drinks whiskey]

Michael Gray:
I have consulted my mother.

Priest:
Your mother is dead.

Michael Gray:
Nonetheless, I've consulted her. And, yes. When I'm released, it is my intention to kill Tommy Shelby.

Arthur Shelby:
Her name was Elizabeth Gray. She was my Aunt Polly. My Aunt Polly.

Captain Swing:
Vengeance is for the Lord--. (Arthur shoots her).

Arthur Shelby:
Not in Small Heath, it ain't. Rest in peace, Pol.

Thomas Shelby:
Speak to me. Speak to me, Michael

Michael Gray:
You killed her.

Thomas Shelby:
Polly made her own choices, Michael.

Michael Gray:
No. No one close to you makes a choice without your opinion, Tom. Not Arthur, not me, not Ada. We can't escape you. Your lethal hand is always on our shoulders.

Thomas Shelby:
Polly was half of me. Still visits me in my dreams. She'll visit me no more. (Tommy shoots Michael).

Alfie Solomons:
I smell the smell of roasting Irishmen. Oh yes, hello. I also smell the smell of tobacco. Which is forbidden in my presence for all except for one, my new wife, Edna. The Irish being rendered smoke and fat, I now own half of Boston. So, out of respect for my restored authority, put the fucking cigarette out now, Tommy.

Thomas Shelby:
Hello, Alfie. I heard it was a good wedding.

Alfie Solomons:
Ya, it was actually. Thank you. Edna's from a family circus. So, after the ketubah and the old swapping of rings, and the smashing of glass, we left aboard elephants. Yeah. It was quite a thing. They had to shut down Camden High Street, and even the gentile, what normally fucking hate me, they waved with their hankies. Justice. And housekeeping. Long overdue. Yeah, look at that little cunt ascending, he is ascending to the heavens. Right in front of us. Before our very eyes. And I can see with this eye. I'm not blind. This eye is the eye of a dead man. Dead men can through life like it was a curtain that billows with the flicker of truth upon it. And I can see with this eye, Tommy, that your nephew is ascending and he will be forgiven. Unlike you, who, on judgment day, is probably truly fucked when the other shoe drops. Hmm? You all right, Tommy? How you keeping?

Thomas Shelby:
You know, Alfie, so many people, so many times, going to so much trouble to kill me. I'm fucking dying anyway.

Alfie Solomons:
Well, we're all dying anyway.

Thomas Shelby:
No. Not a bullet, not a bomb, not a knife.

Alfie Solomons:
It is clap? Is it clap?

Thomas Shelby:
No. Not even that noble

Alfie Solomons:
What are you trying to say? I'm about to sign over half of fucking Camden Town to you, as part of the deal, and you're saying you're going to die in your bed?

Thomas Shelby:
I'm not going to die in bed, Alfie. Who fucking dies in bed?

Alfie Solomons:
Good people die in their bed, Tommy. Good people.

Thomas Shelby:
Good people, eh?

Alfie Solomons:
Mmm.

Thomas Shelby:
Good people. And yet here we are, Alfie. After all this time, just you and me. And I crossed the line. Michael... Polly... Ruby...

Alfie Solomons:
Tommy, if you are about to express profound emotion, you might be better served expressing it to someone who gives a fuck. Or perhaps to somebody who is being paid to pretend to have to. Like a fucking nurse or a priest. Someone. And, as for death, speaking as someone who has been dead for a number of years, I can only heartily recommend it.

Thomas Shelby:
Well, Alfie, your opera is complete. Shall we go and witness the final act?

Thomas Shelby:
In the bleak, midwinter.

Thomas Shelby:
The eleventh hour. Armistice. Peace at last. Peace at last.