Robert de Rainault: [Mildred starts weeping] Oh, look at her! Any mention of our forthcoming nuptials and she positively overflows! God knows where it all comes from.
Sir Guy of Gisburne: Will there be many guests, my lord?
Robert de Rainault: It's a wedding, Gisburne, not a celebration! I made a list of guests. Then, after I'd read them, I started crossing them off. I went on crossing them off until there was nobody left.
Robert de Rainault: Shut up! Fortunately, most of my relations are either dead, or living in Normandy, which amounts to the same thing.
Sir Guy of Gisburne: And the Abbot Hugo, my lord?
Robert de Rainault: My dear brother has had a sudden and totally uncharacteristic surge of piety, and hurried off on a pilgrimage to Wolsingham, thus saving both his soul and the necessity of providing me with a wedding present.
Robert de Rainault: Why on earth did I agree to be united in the unholy bonds of matrimony with a pansy-faced sixteen-year-old virgin? That is, if she still is a virgin, of course. Do you think it's worth the money, Gisburne? Could it possibly be worth ten thousand marks?
Robert de Rainault: Why don't you answer?
Sir Guy of Gisburne: I assumed the question was rhetorical, my lord.
Robert de Rainault: Never assume anything, Gisburne, except an occasional air of intelligence. Well, you'd better go and fetch her, hadn't you? And that ghastly man who's supposed to have fathered her, though that's a matter of some doubt, considering the amount of time he spends riding around on horseback. Ha! well, you should get on famously together. All he ever talks about is halters and harnesses. No wonder his coat of arms is a rampant boar.
Sir Guy of Gisburne: And when will the... ceremony take place, my lord?
Robert de Rainault: When I'm drunk enough to go through with it!
Robert de Rainault: [to the soldiers] You cross-eyed idiots! Gisburne, stop playing around in the mud and come up here. You look like a decaying dung-heap. Keep downwind of me, for the love of Christ!
[nods to Mildred]
Robert de Rainault: Lady Mildred. Where's the Baron? And where are your men?
Sir Guy of Gisburne: The Baron was wounded in a tournament, my lord. He's taken to his bed.
Robert de Rainault: And your men, Gisburne? Have they taken to their beds as well?
Sir Guy of Gisburne: We were attacked by outlaws! That devil pursued me!
Robert de Rainault: A devil, is he? All I saw was a ragged wolfshead whom you seem quite incapable of killing.
Sir Guy of Gisburne: [instructing the soldiers] After the ceremony is over, on a signal from me, you will all cheer. Understood?
Sir Guy of Gisburne: We'll try one now. Are you ready? Deep breath. Cheer!
[They give a half-hearted, barely audible cheer. Gisburne looks annoyed, and doesn't see the Sheriff entering the room behind him]
Sir Guy of Gisburne: We'll try that again. On the command "cheer" - CHEER!
[They respond more loudly. Gisburne nods]
Robert de Rainault: Are you trying to be funny, Gisburne?
Robert de Rainault: Is there any sign of the priest?
Sir Guy of Gisburne: No, my lord. Nor the outlaws.
Robert de Rainault: Is everyone alert and ready?
Sir Guy of Gisburne: Yes, my lord.
Robert de Rainault: Well, put them back in their little box, Gisburne, or do something with them!
Alan a Dale: [posing as a priest] In nomine Patris, et Filis, et Spiriti Sanctus...
Robert de Rainault: You bless us at the end of the ceremony.
Alan a Dale: I charge you, if you know any reason, any reason why you... why you should not be joined in wedlock...
Robert de Rainault: Get ON with it, man!
- to speak now, or from this moment, remain forever silent.
Alan a Dale: Let us pray.
[very long pause]
Robert de Rainault: Are we to remain silent for ever?
Alan a Dale: Will you have this woman to be your wedded wife, and live under God's holy law, cleaving her to you, in sickness and in health, so... so long as... so... s...
Robert de Rainault: So long as you both shall live! Good God, man, I know it better than you do! I will!
Alan a Dale: [singing, badly] My heart is heavy as a stone... My tears they fall like rain... For she who was my own true love... I'll never see again, again... I'll never see again.
Robin of Loxley: Maybe she heard you singing.
Lady Marion: Where are you going?
Alan a Dale: Nottingham.
Lady Marion: To seek your fortune?
Alan a Dale: To kill the Sheriff!
Alan a Dale: My fate awaits me in Nottingham. The world has become an empty place, and life is merely the echo of mocking laughter.
Little John: I'm not surprised!
Robin of Loxley: Why do you want to kill the Sheriff?
Alan a Dale: Have you seen an innocent flower mercilessly crushed in a mailed fist?
Will Scarlet: He's right round the Maypole!
Alan a Dale: To save the lady of my heart, I would ride through fire!
Little John: What? On that horse?
Alan a Dale: He means to marry her!
Little John: Marry?
Will Scarlet: What? The Sheriff?
Lady Marion: He'll never marry!
Friar Tuck: He hates women!
Alan a Dale: It's Mildred... Oh, Mildred!
Robert de Rainault: Oh God, not another snivelling female. Stop howling, woman! Or I'll give you something to howl about!
Robert de Rainault: Those people are my property. The fields they work are my fields. And your masterly plan is to drive them into the forest to join up with that wolfshead!
Robin of Loxley: Alan, life's not a love song. You'd best forget her.
Friar Tuck: [Tuck hands Alan a Bible] Here, mumble over that.
Will Scarlet: Can he read?
Friar Tuck: He doesn't have to. Half the priests can't.