French Count:
I hope they hang you in Tyburn for your bad French.
Macleane:
Merci Monsieur. I hope it rains every day of your fucking visit.
Macleane:
Still swinging both ways, Rochester?
Lord Rochester:
Jamie, I swing every way.
Lord Pelham:
When one goes, Jamie, one must go with style.
Plunkett:
See, I'm talking "BIG".
Macleane:
You forget something. I have morals.
Plunkett:
Oh, do you?
Macleane:
Most certainly, yes I do.
[
pauses]
Macleane:
How big?
Rebecca:
[
Rebecca walks up to Macleane after he has been staring at her] You are not a gentleman.
Macleane:
I’m sorry?
Rebecca:
No gentleman would stare at a lady like that in public.
Macleane:
I do beg your pardon. Captain James Macleane, at your service.
Rebecca:
Oh, so you are a gentlemen?
Macleane:
Yes.
Rebecca:
What a shame.
Macleane:
What rhymes with Rebecca?
Plunkett:
Pecker. How's your old, uh...?
Macleane:
Ah. Much better. Thank you.
Plunkett:
Good.
Macleane:
Yes. You know, I think it's actually got bigger, if you can imagine such a thing.
Plunkett:
I'd rather not.
Macleane:
And Rebecca's lost to me. How can I make love to her with the pox?
Chance:
Does that hurt?
Plunkett:
Only when I laugh.
[
MacCleane and Lady Darcy are having sex in the back room]
Macleane:
Oh, my angel, my siren's song, you've ambushed me in the forests of your hair, you've drowned me in the pools of your eyes, you've shackled me to the...
Lady Darcy:
Do shut up! Fuck me!
Rich Prisoner:
Care to express an opinion, sir?
Will Plunkett:
Yeah. You've got more money than brains.
Chance:
I pay you. And yet, you do nothing.
Lord Rochester:
No, the new world is too far. Too big. Too primitive. No, no, my place is here... corrupting the young.
Macleane:
[
Complaining about the pox] My John Thomas is a complete disaster area!
Macleane:
[
after Plunkett has rescued him from hanging] Sure took your time.
Plunkett:
Weren't sure you were worth it.
Rebecca:
[
after her father has asked why she is dancing with Macleane] He doesn't make my flesh crawl.
Macleane:
*Thank* you.
Rebecca:
[
Talking to her father about one of her suitors] He makes my flesh crawl.
Rebecca:
Mr. Chance, I do believe you have halitosis.
[
first lines]
Judge Beresteade:
Captain James Macleane, for drunkenness, unruly behavior, causing an affray and disturbing the King's, I hereby sentence you to be placed in the Knightsbridge debtors' jail and to be held there until you are sober. Take him away.
Dixon:
Who were those buggers?
Winterburn:
Buggers with style, my darling, buggers with style.
[
last lines]
Lord Rochester:
Well, we've had an exciting day, haven't we? Stiff drink and straight to bed for me. Back to the real world. I could quite get used to this... adventure lark.
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