Rob Roy

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.

Archibald Cunningham:
What did you do with that bag of guts Killearn? Irritate 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. In truth to put to it I think not all of her objected.

Robert Roy MacGregor:
If it's a boy, call him Robert. If it be a lass, name her after my love, Mary McGregor.

Archibald Cunningham:
Love is a dung hill and I am but a cock that climbs atop it to crow.

Duke of Argyll:
Another one of your "likely lads"? So, Mr. Cunningham. What are these principal 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:
Will, do you hear this? Apparently Mr. Cunningham has trouble telling the difference between arse and quim, what say you to that?

Will Guthrie:
I've heard many Englishmen have the same problem.

Robert Roy MacGregor:
Mr. Cunningham and I have matters outstanding.

Mary:
I love the bones of you, Robert McGregor, but you take too much to heart that canna' be helped.

MacDonald:
I do not serve Robert McGregor. I am his friend, and count myself fortunate to claim it.

Duke of Argyll:
So, Mr. Cunningham. What are these principal 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.

Robert Roy MacGregor:
Do you know how fine you are to me, Mary MacGregor?

Mary MacGregor:
And you to me.

Robert Roy MacGregor:
You were right, Mary. I must have my own way too often.

Mary MacGregor:
No, Robert.

Robert Roy MacGregor:
If I had just given Montrose what he wanted, then Alan and Alasdair would still 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 if I have my Robert, and he has himself.

Montrose:
You draw rumours, sir, as shite draws flies.

Duke of Argyll:
You, sir, are the shite!

Duke of Argyll:
You are riding to your death, he will kill you. I feel sorry for your wife.

Robert Roy MacGregor:
Perhaps you'd like to wager a sum for her maintenance.

Duke of Argyll:
Well, if it will ease your passing, I'll lay ten guineas for her.

Robert Roy MacGregor:
Fifty would stretch farther.

Duke of Argyll:
Ha ha! By God, you have a style to you, MacGregor! I like that!

Killearn:
She cut me! The b*tch cut me! I'm cut bad!

Alasdair MacGregor:
Not bad enough for me.

Mary MacGregor:
Robert, there is more. I am with child... and I do not know who the father is.

Robert Roy MacGregor:
Ach, Mary...

Mary MacGregor:
I could not kill it, husband.

Robert Roy MacGregor:
It's not the child that needs killing.

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.

Duke of Argyll:
MacGregor!

Robert Roy MacGregor:
Your Grace?

Duke of Argyll:
He will kill you, MacGregor. I would lose if I wagered any other way.

Robert Roy MacGregor:
Your Grace has my permission to profit as you wish.

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.

Duncan MacGregor:
Father, will the MacGregors ever be kings again?

Rob Roy MacGregor:
All men with honor are kings. But not all kings have honor.

Duncan MacGregor:
What is honor?

Rob Roy MacGregor:
Honor is what no man can give ya. And none can take away. Honor is a man's gift to himself.

Duncan MacGregor:
Do women have it?

Rob Roy MacGregor:
Women are the heart of honor. And we cherish and protect it in them. You must never mistreat a woman, or malign man. Or stand by and see another do so.

Duncan MacGregor:
How do you know if you have it?

Rob Roy MacGregor:
Never worry on the getting of it. It grows in you, and speaks to you. All you need do is listen.

[Argyll refuses Mary's initial pleas for help]

Mary MacGregor:
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 MacGregor:
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 MacGregor:
In remission of this debt. But Robert refused.

Duke of Argyll:
I did not know your husband bore me such goodwill.

Mary MacGregor:
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. [stands] 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:
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.

Montrose:
Will you not take my odds, Argyll? I give you five on the fop.

Duke of Argyll:
I will wager you but this: if MacGregor lives, you will acquit him of all he owes you.

Montrose:
[laughs airily] And if he loses?

Duke of Argyll:
I will pay his bill.

Montrose:
[deathly serious] ...My factor will call upon Your Grace's factor.

Rob Roy MacGregor:
You should have told me, Mary.

Mary MacGregor:
Oh Robert, I should have but I could not. You were right.

Rob 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!

Rob 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!

Rob 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?

Mary Macgregor:
To these men, the truth is but a lie undiscovered.

Rob Roy MacGregor:
What passes for honor with me is likely enough the same as with Your Lordship. When my word is given, it is good.

James Graham, Marquis of Montrose:
Well, you are to be congratulated on such cheaply bought nobility.