King Arthur: Legend of the Sword

Back Lack:
What a waste of brandy.

Arthur:
But doesn't it make the palace burn well?

Goosefat Bill:
Leave him with me, boss.

Arthur:
Put your ring back on honey-tits, you haven't had enough porridge this morning to talk like that. And if you want that sword so much, your lordship, you can keep it... to peel your grapes.

[slap]

Goosefat Bill:
Now, that would have hurt a lot more if I'd left the ring on.

Goosefat Bill:
You've made quite a celebrity of yourself among the Blackleg ranks.

Bedivere:
You've done very nicely on the back of your cozy relationship with your King's men.

Arthur:
I'm a little old for finger-wagging and speeches. So unless you're my dad, which... I believe is unlikely, can you just get around to telling me exactly what it is you want?

The Mage:
You know what we have to do. In order for him to control Excalibur, he needs to go to the Darklands.

Bedivere:
That's not happening.

[later]

Bedivere:
Welcome to the Darklands...

The Mage:
He needs to take the sword to the tower.

Bedivere:
Give me another way.

The Mage:
There is no other way. And he has to go alone.

Bedivere:
He can't survive the Darklands alone!

The Mage:
You don't want all of him to survive, that's the point. You have to break his old self completely, wear him down. You want him to think big? Give him something big to think about.

Bedivere:
You're playing with fire, mage. And I'm not killing the king before he's even become one!

The Mage:
Pick it up. Pick it up with both hands.

Arthur:
YOU pick it up.

Arthur:
So what happens now?

Vortigern:
You know what happens now. You're quickly becoming a legend.

Vortigern:
You and I have a lot more in common than you think. It's not just the same blood we share, but also the same interests. We both developed a palate for power.

Arthur:
I've never had any power, or any desire to achieve it. Sire, I could simply drift away never to be seen again.

Vortigern:
As much as I would like to believe you, your character makes that unlikely.

Arthur:
Why have enemies when you can have friends?

Arthur:
I see you’re trying to get me to do something razzle-dazzle with that sword. I'm not getting drawn into this mess. There's an army of you, there's only one of me. I've talked, I'm happy to talk, but there is no way... that I am fighting.

Arthur:
It should be clear by now that whatever you and your friends think I am, I am not it.

Arthur:
It's quite dangerous being one of you lot, isn't it? You're good with animals, aren't you? They have a word for that, don't they? Mage... I thought your team was outlawed. Never met one of you in the flesh. I thought you'd be taller... and have a beard.

Arthur:
[to Vortigern] You wanted to know what gave me such drive? It was you. You put me in that brothel. You cut me on the streets. I am here now because of you. You created me. And for that, I bless you. You make sense of the devil.

Arthur:
No, I mean I’m sorry. You’ve made a mistake. You’re no longer dealing with the man you previously met. You are addressing England and all the subjects under her king’s protection. So you have a choice. You can now kneel to England… Or I’ll step off this throne and you can deal with me as the man you previously met.

Mage:
You're no longer a myth. You're starting to mean something.

Mage:
You are resisting the sword. The sword isn’t resisting you.

Sir Bedivere:
It was Vortigern who murdered your father, but what you didn't account for is what you can do with his sword.

Vortigern:
When people fear you... I mean, really fear you... it is the most intoxicating sensation a man can possess.

Vortigern:
[to Arthur] I know your story. What kind of a man would you have become had you inherited your father's kingdom instead of being raised in a brothel? What gave you such drive?

Vortigern:
You have won, nephew. You have won. Now, play with me.

Mischief John:
Anything that you do to me will be repaid 10 times in kind. Now, you're a big man. Now, let's see you move.

Greybeard:
While I understand there’s been a change in the leadership of this nation, I am confident that you will still honor the agreement made by your predecessor and my king. We expect to leave here with ten thousand young men as agreed.

Greybeard:
May I remind you of a fleet of three thousand longships controlling the seas, surrounding your island. It would be unwise to displease my king. I’m prepared to extend the deadline by a week.

The Lady Of The Lake:
Let me show you what your uncle will do if you do not accept. This sword… Only you can prevent this. He must be met where sword meets tower. Trust the Mage. Take it.

Uther:
The sword is yours now, son. Take it.