Rob Roy (1995)

Andrew Keir: Argyll

Quotes 

• [on their way to Robert's duel with Cunningham] 

  Duke of Argyll : Tell me, MacGregor, is this matter of honor concerning your wife?

  Robert Roy MacGregor : It's concerning me, Your Grace. Mr. Cunningham and I have matters outstanding.

  Duke of Argyll : She will not thank you for making her a widow, honor or no.

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

  Duke of Argyll : Well, if it will help you die any the easier, I'll lay twenty guineas for her.

  Robert Roy MacGregor : Fifty would go further.

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

• [Argyll refuses Mary's initial pleas for help] 

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

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

  Mary : 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] 

  Mary : 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 : [much affected]  You do your man no dishonor, Mary. Faith, he is a man much blessed by fortune.

• Archibald Cunningham : He's a fair hand with a cleaver, it must be said.

  Duke of Argyll : Oh, you do not think much of our highland weapons?

  Archibald Cunningham : If I had to slaughter an ox, your grace, a Claymore would be my first choice.

  Will Guthrie : You'd best use a musket. Save the beast a slow dying.

  Archibald Cunningham : I would not need a musket for you, Guthrie.

• [Robert asks the Duke to arrange a duel with Cunningham] 

  Duke of Argyll : MacGregor!

  Robert Roy MacGregor : Sir?

  Duke of Argyll : He will kill you, MacGregor. I would lose money I wagered otherwise.

  Robert Roy MacGregor : Your lordship has my permission to profit what way he will.

• Montrose : Great men, such as yourself, draw rumors as shite draws flies.

  Duke of Argyll : You are the shite, Montrose, and the flies upon it!

• Duke of Argyll : So, Mr. Cunningham, what are these principle 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 : [laughs]  Do you hear that, Will? Young Cunningham here was unable to tell arse from quim. What say you to that?

  Will Guthrie : I've heard that many Englishmen have that same difficulty.

• Duke of Argyll : I will know who to wager on, the next time.

  Robert Roy MacGregor : [utterly mirthless chuckle]  I hope Your Grace will live so long.

• 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.

• [the Duke hands Montrose a goblet of wine] 

  Montrose : [deeply sarcastic]  You honor me, sir, to serve me with your own hand.

  Duke of Argyll : I tell you, James, I forget how much you dislike me until I'm in your presence.