Longshanks: Scottish rebels have routed one of my garrisons and murdered the noble lord.
Prince Edward: I heard. This Wallace is a brigand, nothing more.
Longshanks: And how would you deal with this 'brigand?'
Prince Edward: Like any common thief. Have the local magistrate arrest him and punish him accordingly.

All of you know full well, the great pains I have always taken never to be too strict, too rigid with the application of our laws, and as a consequence, have we not learned to live together in relative peace and harmony, huh? And this day's lawlessness is how you repay my leniency. Well you leave me with little choice. An assault on the king's soldiers is the same as an assault on the king himself.

Magistrate

Princess Isabelle: I've come to beg for the life of William Wallace.
Prince Edward: [scoffs] You're quite taken with him, aren't you?

I shall tell you of William Wallace. Historians from England will say I am a liar, but history is written by those who have hanged heroes. The king of Scotland had died without a son, and the king of England, a cruel pagan known as Edward the Longshanks, claimed the throne of Scotland for himself. Scotland's nobles fought him, and fought each other, over the crown. So Longshanks invited them to talks of truce - no weapons, one page only. Among the farmers of that shire was Malcolm Wallace, a commoner with his own lands; he had two sons, John and William.

Narrator

Argyle Wallace: We'll stay here tonight, leave in the mornin'.
Young William: But I don't want to leave.
Argyle Wallace: You did not want your father to die either, but it happened.

Lord Bottoms: As lord of these lands I shall bless this marriage by taking the bride into my bed on the first night of her union.
Morrison: By God, you will not.

Morrison: Do you remember me?
Lord Bottoms: I never did her any harm. It was my right.
Morrison: Your right? Well, I'm here to claim the right of a husband.

Princess Isabelle: You see? Death comes to us all. But before it comes to you, know this: your blood dies with you. A child who is not of your line grows in my belly. Your son will not sit long on the throne. I swear it.

It's our wits that make us men.

Malcolm Wallace

Hamish: Some men are longer than others.
Campbell: Your mother's been telling stories about me again, ah?

[after his wound is cleaned] That'll wake you up in the mornin'.

Campbell

Englishmen don't know what a tongue is for.

Nicolette

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