Rob Roy (1995)
Archibald Cunningham: Think of yourself a scabbard, Mistress McGregor, and I the sword. And a fine fit you were, too.
Mary: I will think on you dead, until my husband makes you so. And then I will think on you no more.
Son: Father, will the MacGregors ever be kings again?
Robert Roy MacGregor: All men with honor are kings. But not all kings have honor.
Son: What is honor?
Robert Roy MacGregor: Honor is...
[Mary looking on]
Robert Roy MacGregor: what no man can give ya. And none can take away. Honor is a man's gift to himself.
Son: Do women have it?
Robert Roy MacGregor: Women have the heart of honor. And we cherish and protect it in them. You must never mistreat a woman, or a lame man. Or stand by a see another do so.
Son: How do you know if you have it?
Robert Roy MacGregor: Never worry on the getting of it. It grows in you, and speaks to you. All you need do is listen.
Archibald Cunningham: Love is a dung hill, Betty, and I am but a cock that climbs upon it to crow.
Duke of Argyll: So, Mr. Cunningham, what are these principle sins that distress your mother? Dice? Drink? Or are you a buggerer of boys?
Archibald Cunningham: It is years, Your Grace, since I buggered a boy... And in my own defense, I must add, I thought him a girl at the moment of entry.
Duke of Argyll: [laughs] Do you hear that, Will? Young Cunningham here was unable to tell arse from quim. What say you to that?
Will Guthrie: I've heard that many Englishmen have that same difficulty.
Mary MacGregor: Robert, there is more. I am carrying a child and I do not know who is the father."
Robert Roy MacGregor: Ach, Mary...
Mary MacGregor: I could not kill it, husband.
Robert Roy MacGregor: It's not the child that needs killing.
Referee: You are here on a matter of honor. I am here to see that you settle it honorably. There will be no back-stabbing, you will not throw your blades, nor will you use weapons other than those agreed. If quarter should be asked...
Robert Roy MacGregor: No quarter will be asked.
Archibald Cunningham: Or given.
Archibald Cunningham: He's a fair hand with a cleaver, it must be said.
Duke of Argyll: Oh, you do not think much of our highland weapons?
Archibald Cunningham: If I had to slaughter an ox, your grace, a Claymore would be my first choice.
Will Guthrie: You'd best use a musket. Save the beast a slow dying.
Archibald Cunningham: I would not need a musket for you, Guthrie.
Mary: To these men, the truth is but a lie undiscovered.
Archibald Cunningham: What did you do with that bag of guts Killearn? Vex me not, McGregor, or I shall have you dragged a while. And I am a man of my word.
Robert Roy MacGregor: You're a thief, a murderer and a violator of women.
Archibald Cunningham: Aah... I had hoped you'd come to me long since on that score.
Robert Roy MacGregor: If I had known earlier you would have been dead sooner.
Archibald Cunningham: I will tell you something, to take with you. Your wife was far sweeter forced than many are willing. And truth put to it, I think not all of her objected...
Robert Roy MacGregor: If it's a boy, call him Robert. If a lass, name her after my love, Mary McGregor.
Mary: I love the bones of you, Robert McGregor, but you take too much to heart that canna' be helped.
Robert Roy MacGregor: Do you know how fine you are to me, Mary MacGregor?
Mary MacGregor: And you to me.
[Argyll refuses Mary's initial pleas for help]
Mary: Your Grace, Robert finds himself in this position for taking Your Grace's part.
Duke of Argyll: My part? What cause had he to do that? And in what manner?
Mary: He refused to bear false witness against you, when the Marquis asked him to say that you were a Jacobite, to slander your name at court.
Duke of Argyll: Montrose asked this of him?
Mary: In remission of this debt. But Robert refused.
Duke of Argyll: I did not know your husband bore me such goodwill.
Mary: Indeed, Your Grace, I think he favors you no more than any other great man. "As wolves at lambing," that is his word for you all. Robert refused, not for Your Grace, but for his own honor, which he values above his own family, his kin and his clan, and for which I have oft chided him. But were he otherwise, he would not be Robert Roy MacGregor. Robert would not approve of my coming here to ask you for help, nor come himself if he were here.
Mary: But I have no choice, unless I give him up entire to his enemies. And though I love his honor, it is but a moon-cast shadow to the love I bear him. By the grace of God, I have his child inside me and I will have a father for it.
Duke of Argyll: [much affected] You do your man no dishonor, Mary. Faith, he is a man much blessed by fortune.
Duke of Argyll: You promised MacGregor amnesty from his debts if he would lay charges against me.
Montrose: So! That is how he cozened you into giving him shelter.
Duke of Argyll: Oh, I know the truth when I hear it.
Montrose: Oh! And here was me, thinking that was God's gift alone.
Duke of Argyll: Do not think that all sins go unpaid in this life, Montrose.
Montrose: Well... I see one set soon to be paid for.
Robert Roy MacGregor: You should have told me, Mary.
Mary MacGregor: Oh Robert, I should have but I could not. You were right.
Robert Roy MacGregor: No, you were right. I must have my own way too often. I should have packed my pride and given Montrose his way!
Mary MacGregor: No, Robert!
Robert Roy MacGregor: And all this has come on us. Craigrostan would still be ours, Alasdair and Coll would be alive...
Mary MacGregor: And wrong would have been done you!
Robert Roy MacGregor: And what about the wrong done you? Wrong past bearing.
Mary MacGregor: No, not past bearing! Not past bearing. Not if I have my Robert, and he has himself. And you would not, not if you had done a lesser man's bidding.
[Robert is silent]
Mary MacGregor: "Honor is the gift a man gives himself." You told our boys that. Would you have stolen from yourself that which makes you Robert Roy MacGregor?
Montrose: Great men, such as yourself, draw rumors as shite draws flies.
Duke of Argyll: You are the shite, Montrose, and the flies upon it!
[on their way to Robert's duel with Cunningham]
Duke of Argyll: Tell me, MacGregor, is this matter of honor concerning your wife?
Robert Roy MacGregor: It's concerning me, Your Grace. Mr. Cunningham and I have matters outstanding.
Duke of Argyll: She will not thank you for making her a widow, honor or no.
Robert Roy MacGregor: Perhaps you'd like to wager a sum for her maintenance.
Duke of Argyll: Well, if it will help you die any the easier, I'll lay twenty guineas for her.
Robert Roy MacGregor: Fifty would go further.
Duke of Argyll: By God, you have a style to you, MacGregor! I like that!
Montrose: I have had a message from His Grace the Duke of Argyll. It seems our MacGregor is holed up with him. He offers us a match: you and the Highlander.
Archibald Cunningham: [rasping whisper] Bring him on.
Montrose: You speak, Archibald! One must never underestimate the healing power of hatred.
[the Duke hands Montrose a goblet of wine]
Montrose: [deeply sarcastic] You honor me, sir, to serve me with your own hand.
Duke of Argyll: I tell you, James, I forget how much you dislike me until I'm in your presence.
Montrose: You are damned, MacGregor. Damned to hell.
Robert Roy MacGregor: [laughing] Come, Your Lordship. Leave the Devil some work. You've done enough for one day.
Title Card: At the dawn of the 1700's, famine, disease and the greed of great Noblemen were changing Scotland forever. With many emigrating to the Americas, the centuries-old Clan system was slowly being extinguished. This story symbolises the attempt of the individual to withstand these processes and, even in defeat, retain respect and honour.
MacDonald: I do not serve Robert McGregor. I am his friend, and count myself fortunate to claim it.
Killearn: She cut me! The bitch cut me! I'm cut bad!
Alasdair MacGregor: Not bad enough for me.
Robert Roy MacGregor: Did you boys know there's going to be a new addition to the family?
Duncan MacGregor: Is it inside you?
Mary MacGregor: Yes.
Duncan MacGregor: How does it get out?
Robert Roy MacGregor: Same road it got in.
[Robert asks the Duke to arrange a duel with Cunningham]
Duke of Argyll: MacGregor!
Robert Roy MacGregor: Sir?
Duke of Argyll: He will kill you, MacGregor. I would lose money I wagered otherwise.
Robert Roy MacGregor: Your lordship has my permission to profit what way he will.
Duke of Argyll: I will know who to wager on, the next time.
Robert Roy MacGregor: [utterly mirthless chuckle] I hope Your Grace will live so long.
Will Guthrie: I hear you back-stabbed Tam Sibbald.
Robert Roy MacGregor: Were you and Tam kin?
Will Guthrie: Near enough. I shagged his sister.
Killearn: [whispered aside] Likely so did Tam.
Robert Roy MacGregor: What passes for honor with me is likely the same as what passes with Your Lordship. When my word is given, it is good.
Montrose: Well, you are to be congratulated on such cheaply-bought nobility.
Killearn: My God, what a crew you highlanders are. With your airs and honors, come beggin' a thousand pound as though you were doing the lender a favor. Sheep-shaggers, the lot of ye. Baaa!
Robert Roy MacGregor: There best be no skullduggery here, Killearn. Alan McDonald stands under my protection.
Killearn: [sarcastic] Well, that's a great comfort to us all, I must say. What with a thousand pounds at risk.
Montrose: You have slept your last peaceful night, MacGregor. You and yours.
Robert Roy MacGregor: [on the interest owed to Montrose] Aye, that's the price of cash.
Mary: You look bemused.
Betty: No worse bemused than I deserve, Mrs. MacGregor. For I have a bastard's bastard in me. And no home for him when he comes out.
Archibald Cunningham: I want MacGregor!