300 Best Sharpe Quotes

Pot: My friends, let us not fight! Let us eat!

Patrick: [about Sharpe] When your back's against the wall, he's the one man you want beside you.

Munro: What you don't know don't hurt you, Sharpe.
Sharpe: Beg pardon, sir, but in my experience what you don't know usually gets you killed.

Hagman: Harris?
Harris: Hm?
Hagman: What's your first name?

Marie: Have you killed many men? - Did they deserve it?
Richard: Some. But most were just poor soldiers who happened to wear a different uniform from me.
Marie: But in a just cause?
Richard: I'm not sure I ever heard of one! - War is the business of kings, Miss. Kings and governments. However they dress it, in the end, the whys and the wherefores come down to one thing: Loot. Booty. Treasure. - Us soldiers, we just do the dying for them!

Charlie: [speaking about the French] Then they must be quaking in terror!
Major: Oh they are, Charlie. They know they face us!

Richard: Maybe I'll get lucky, sir. Maybe one of those rockets will blow me to Kingdom Come.
Nairn: That's the spirit, Sharpe!

Crosby: [ln a flashback to 1803, when Sharpe was still a Sergeant with the33rd Regiment in India] It's a six day's' march! How the devil do you expect to transport 80,000 cartridges? On your back?
Sharpe: [Deadpan] Bullocks, sir!
[as Major Crosby reacts]
Sharpe: - Ox-carts, sir.
Crosby: Which you mean to hire with what? Promises?
Sharpe: With money, sir.
[Indicates the bag on his belt]
Crosby: Oh! Speak the language, too, do you? - Sergeant, banker and interpreter?
Sharpe: Brought an interpreter, sir!
Crosby: Did you? - Did you?
[Eyes Sharpe with disapproval. Sarcastically]
Crosby: Every inch the Crown soldier! - Go and find your damn carts, Sergeant Sharpe, and let me know when you're ready!

Wellington: If your corps is coming up, as you assure me, how close do you think they are? I want them to clear that road, I want it handsomely arranged with guns.
Uxbridge: Very close.
Wellington: How close?
Uxbridge: Close. Coming up.
[He turns around to look for them]

Richard: I've seen many a good soldier run away, and live to fight another die.
Father: So have I!

Maj. Hogan: Richard, your mind has been making appointments your body should never keep.
Richard: What do you mean by that?
Maj. Hogan: You have ambition which could be the making of you but you also have a romantic soul which could be the breaking of you. Ambition and romance is a poisonous brew, and I mean to distill the one from the other.

Richard: [grabs Bickerstaff while the sergeant is beating an Indian soldier] Damnit! Stand off!
Sgt: Mind your damn business!
Richard: I'm not going to tell you again.
Sgt: Who in the bloody hell are you to give me orders? You're no company officer!
Richard: No, Sgt. Bickerstaff, I'm not. I'm from a proper army, that knows how to deal with bullying bastards like you!

Sir: What makes a good soldier, Sharpe?
Richard: The ability to fire three rounds a minute. In any weather, sir!

Dubreton: [Nodding to a bound Hakeswill] This is the man who killed your wife.
Sharpe: A liar, a thief, a rapist, a murderer.That's not a man.Take it away.

Wellington: Discipline is only a rabble-rouser's shout from anarchy!

Richard: You got your throne. How does it feel, your Majesty?

Richard: What do you reckon then, Pat? This Khande Rao can be taken?
Patrick: Well, he has a reputation of being a real monster.
Mohan: [comes up from behind a tent] If he is a monster, Mr. Harper, then he's one of British making.
Richard: How's that, Captain?
Mohan: The Company have only maintained the peace here by keeping the princes at each other's throats. Khande Rao's father: he feared his neighbours more than he hated the British. And so it was your country that kept him supplied with arms.
Patrick: That sounds just like the English, getting someone else to do its dirty work!
Mohan: The son is not the father, however. Khande Rao wants you out of our country, once and for all. It is a view with which I cannot say I do not have some sympathy.
Richard: So why are you fighting with us?
Mohan: Khande Rao is... a sworn enemy of my blood. And that makes you my enemy's enemy, and therefore, a necessary evil. Good day to you
[inclines his head]
Mohan: both.
[Leaves]
Patrick: I don't think I like the sound of that. A necessary evil...
Richard: Have we ever been else?
Patrick: Oh... and there was me thinking we were always on the side of the angels.

General: Major Sharpe, a gentleman you may not be but you will behave as one in this court! Do I make myself clear?

Major: Can I trust you Smith?
Capt. Smith: Yes. I was always uneasy. Always sir. But I'd been purchased over several times. I obtained a Captaincy I could not afford.
Major: I know what that means, Smith.

Harper: [after Sharpe and Harper just escaped from the prison cell, only to be facing Dodd's professional killers] Out of the frying pan...!
Sharpe: it's just not our bloody night, Pat!

Maj. Gen. Ross: It's a trap, man! They've baited it with a really big cheese, the Rocha powder magazine. - We're going home!
Richard: No, we're bloody *not*! We're gonna get Brand, and we're gonna blow up that Frog bloody magazine, ad we're gonna use bloody big bait!
Maj. Gen. Ross: Oh? - What?
Richard: *You*!
Maj. Gen. Ross: *Me*?
Richard: Yes, you. - Sir!

Sir: [to Gibbons and Berry] Listen, and listen well. You both dip into my purse. That purse is now shut. It will stay shut so long as Sharpe struts around sneering at the Simmersons. Do you understand me?

Sgt. Obadiah Hakeswill: I hope he doesn't kill Sharpy.
Pot: Why?
Sgt. Obadiah Hakeswill: I want to kill him myself!

Nairn: His name was Liam Dooley. He and his brother were going to be hanged for looting a church. I made them an offer. One could live, but one would die. Liam called heads. It was a very bad call.

Patrick: [handing a plate of cooked beef to Sharpe] Eat! It's French. - It's good! - Though I am a bit of a cannibal, so I am!

Richard: Take my advice, Harris. When you get home, write a bloody good book with loads of shooting in it. You'll die a rich man.

Rifleman Hagman: I find nothing works better than paraffin oil, and best brown paper!

Sharpe: You did your best sir. You did more than your best.

Trumper: [to Cooper and Perkins, outside the tent in which Ramona is giving birth] What the devil is going on here?
Rifleman Perkins: We're delivering a baby, sir!
Trumper: What?
[Takes a quick peek inside the tent and immediately backs out again]
Trumper: Right. Carry on!

Patrick: How long do you think the outer wall will hold?
Richard: It's not meant to hold. It's meant to *come down*!
Patrick: There's nothing more teasing to a besieging army than a great bloody breach...!

Sharpe: [trying to get official permission to leave on a special mission] If Captain Singh and his Lancers help me, Mr. Harper and I should prove sufficient to the job.
Simmerson: You and Harper, eh? - I don't mind if you do die, Sharpe. It's long past your time, ain't it?
Sharpe: If that's permission...
Simmerson: Oh, by all means. Go and die, Sharpe!

Richard: I was raised up from the ranks, Wormwood. You know what that means?
Wormwood: It means you done a feat, sir. Usually.
Richard: It also means I know every dirty soldier's trick in the book.

Lord: [referring to El Casco's armor] His breastplate must be three centuries old at least... He must have looted a museum!

Wellesley: Pity about James Rothschild. I presume he's left the country?
Major: On the contrary, sir...
Richard: He's here in this room, sir.
[to Hogan's surprise, Sharpe turns and plucks off "Mrs. Parker's" wig. James Rothschild laughs and pulls an envelope from under his skirt]
James: Your banker's draft, Sir Arthur.
[to Sharpe]
James: How did you know?
Richard: You smelled of Turkish tobacco, the kind you can't get in Spain. You wouldn't eat your roast pork at the monastery. And I remember you speaking Yiddish in the coach.
James: [laughs] Sir, you are an edel mensch - a gentleman.

Rifleman Cooper: Sarge? Where are we off to, Sarge?
Patrick: We're going to join up with a man called Sharpe, lads.
Rifleman Perkins: You mean we're all gonna die?
Patrick: No, lad. Mister Sharpe may be dead in the eyes of French, but to you and me he's as lively as an eel.
Hagman: Just a minute.
Rifleman Harris: How, Sarge?
Patrick: You know the Army, boys. They couldn't hang a curtain even if they tried.
[They all laugh]

Sgt. Patrick Harper: God save Ireland!

Sir: Do "you* know what makes a good soldier?
Richard: Yes, sir.
Sir: [pause, then] And what makes a good soldier?
Richard: The ability to fire three rounds a minute in any weather, sir.

Colonel: What's it to you priest? You hate the British!
Father: I'm Irish. John Bull's a bad neighbour, but Bonaparte's a bully, and so are you!

Wellington: [to the retreating Dutch troops] My lads, you look blown from your run. Come, do take breath a moment. Then we will go back and try if we can do better. Take heart, soon have some guns up. Uxbridge!
Uxbridge: Wellington?
Wellington: When?
Uxbridge: Oh, they do come, I assure you. What of the Prussians. Any word at all?
Wellington: I told the Prussians we'll support them but only if not attacked here. They'll have to fight without us today.

Major: [playing the bagpipes as Sharpe enters, then stops and turns around to Sharpe] Never had a lesson in my life! Can you believe that, Laddie?
[Sharpe's and Spears' expressions clearly show they CAN believe it, but neither of them says so. Munro gestures for Sharpe to take a seat]
Major: Sit down, Laddie! - Which would you prefer me to do, Sharpe? Play 'Beallagh Na Bruga' - that's the Munro March - or send you an a dangerous mission?
Richard: Ah... dangerous mission, sir!

Richard: No wonder Harris reads Voltaire. Listen: Dieu ne pas pour le gros battalions, mais pour sequi teront le meilleur.
Teresa: God is not on the side of the big battalions, but of the best shots.
Richard: Not bad for a Frog, eh?

[asked why he, an Irishman, spies on the French for the British]
Father: I think the theological reasoning would bore you, Sharpe...

Maj. Richard Sharpe: [any time he leads a charge] CHOSEN MEN!

Maj. Hogan: [talking about of the South Essex] Sir Henry apart, the South Essex... what do you make of them, man for man?
Richard: They're flogged soldiers, sir. And flogging teaches a soldier only one lesson.
Maj. Hogan: What's that, Richard?
Richard: How to turn his back.

Richard: Who's in command of this expedition?
Calvet: [referring to his own rank] How many generals do you see in this room?
Richard: None, Calvet. It's like the French Revolution. All men are equal. Each man on his own merit.
[Referring the riflemen]
Richard: We have the most merit.
Calvet: So you say.
Richard: I do say.
Calvet: So which one of you 'equals' is in command?
Richard: I am.
Calvet: [with a knife in hand, indicating the cheese on the table] So how do i divide the cheese? By *merit* or by *rank*? Who gets the biggest piece?
Richard: You do.
Calvet: Because I'm a general!
Richard: No. Because i bloody hate cheese!
[He exits. As Gaston tries to take the cheese instead, Calvet slaps his hand]

Richard: Gimme a pick-lock, Cooper.
Cooper: Pick-lock, sir? Catch me with a pick-lock!
Patrick: They did, Coop. But when you got out of Newgate prison, you got another set, and that's the one the officer wants.
Cooper: Do I get it back, sir?
Richard: Trust me.
Cooper: It's very hard to trust a man who wants to borrow your pick-lock, sir.

Richard: Where the hell do you think you're about?
Marie: I wanted to ride.
Richard: I can see that!

Sharpe: Now will you take me to Wellington, or should I dig the bugger out myself?
Rawlinson: Splendid! Splendid!
[they enter Wellington's study]
Wellington: What's this nonsense I hear? You've turned swords to plowshares and become a farmer in France?
Sharpe: Aye, it's true enough, Your Grace.
Wellington: Suits you, this life?
Sharpe: Well, no buggers trying to shoot me the livelong day, so aye, suits me!

Sgt. Obadiah Hakeswill: [about the hostages he has captured] Now we have an English woman married to a French Colonel, and a half-English half-Portuguese married to an English Colonel...
[pause]
Sgt. Obadiah Hakeswill: ... funny thing that.

Loup: No more of my men will die in this god forsaken place.
Richard: They will if I find them.

Richard: I'm a soldier, sir, not a bloody clerk! I fetch, I forage, and I take punishment drills! It's "yes sir, no sir, can I dig your latrine, sir?" and it's not bloody soldiering!
Major: It *is* bloody soldiering! What the hell do you think soldiering is? Just because you've been allowed to swan about like a bloody pirate for years...!
Richard: Look, sir, when you fling us up against those walls, you'll be glad there's some pirates in there, and not just bloody clerks!

Richard: I am no longer in the service of His Majesty. My business in India concluded, I am for Calcutta to England.
Viscount: I cannot persuade you? Well perhaps then, you might at least be prevailed upon to perform one last duty? In which case I assure you there is no peril to yourself.
Richard: Aye. If I can.

Father: Your husband is dead, Marquesa.
La: I find it hard to tell the difference.

Daniel: Brings back fond memories, eh, sir? Beg your pardon, sir.
Sharpe: That's alright. Just keep an eye out on 'em. I don't know who's about.
Daniel: Don't you worry sir. Me and the lass; we'll look out for him.

Major: Let's show them what riflemen can do, Pat!

[in French]
Compte: General, my mother is dying. Can I get her out of the castle before the battle?
General: You think the Englishman will let her go?
Compte: He will let her go.
Major: He's a romantic.
General: Very well. Tomorrow, you and Ducos go under a flag of parlay.
Major: He will kill me.
General: Under a white flag?
[Ducos shrugs]
General: He's not as romantic as all that.

[Richard confronts Berry and Gibbons in the mess after they have raped and flogged Josefina. He throws a glass of wine in Gibbons's face]
Gibbons: I don't fight duels over whores.
[Richard replaces the glass, takes a second and throws it in Berry's face]
Berry: I do.

Sgt. Horatio Havercamp: Regiment. Where'd ye serve?
Major: 33rd. India.
Sgt. Horatio Havercamp: You didn't desert?
Major: I wasn't caught, so I didn't.

Denny: [after Major Lennox has died] Sir, what will Mr. Sharpe do now that Major Lennox has asked him for an Eagle?
Leroy: [sharply] I didn't hear Sharpe say nothin' about no Eagle, Mr. Denny... and neither did you!
Denny: [pause, then:] Yes, sir. Sorry, Sir.
Leroy: You want to live, Mr. Denny? You stay away from Sharpe.

[about the first defeat of the South Essex]
Wellesley: This is a report from Major Hogan, which differs somewhat from your account, Sir Henry.
Sir: Major Hogan is merely an engineer, sir.
Wellesley: Major Hogan's coat buttons up tight over a number of other duties, Sir Henry.
[he: ]
Wellesley: Major Hogan reports a number of losses, Sir Henry. He says you first lost your head, and instead of destroying the bridge, you marched over it. He says you then lost your nerve, and ran from a small French patrol. He says you lost ten men, a Major and two sergeants. He says you finally lost your sense of honour and destroyed the bridge, cutting off a rescue party led by Lieutenant Sharpe. Major Hogan leaves the worst to the last. He says you lost the King's Colours.
Sir: [nervous] The fault was not mine, sir. Major Lennox must answer.
Wellesley: [shouting] Major Lennox answered with his *life*! As you should have done if you had any sense of honour! You lost the Colours of the King of England! You disgraced us, sir. You shamed us, sir. *You* will answer.

Richard: What are you smiling at, Fredrickson?
Frederickson: I'm not smiling, sir. A musket ball broke my jaw. I have false teeth. The sawbones stuck on the smile for free, sir. He also stuck on my hair. Hair belongs to a horse.

Prince: It's the French. Oh my god. Now they have guns.
Wellington: Oh, they've always had guns, your royal highness. What they haven't always had is you as a target.

Harper: Do you still want to see Boney?
Sharpe: More than ever.Might ask him for a job.

Richard: Monsieur, you will now redeem yourself. 'Pour la gloire...!' You will lead two companies of French infantry to the attack!
Barbier: Two? - Where are they?
[Sharpe gestures at the all in all 6 men with them]
Barbier: - You're not serious, Monsieur!

Wellington: Give the puppets Richard Sharpe.

[in French]
General: He's good, this Sharpe?
Major: [dismissively] He's just lucky.
General: When Napoleon picks a general, he doesn't ask, "is he good?" He asks, "is he lucky?"

Maj. Hogan: [in a flat deliberate tone to Simmerson after the disastrous loss at the bridge] You've lost the Colours, sir. The King's own Colours, touched by his own hand. Take my advice and a pistol, and go behind that tent and blow out what's left of your brains.

Man: You say you are an Irishman. Why should you be loyal to the British dogs, who want to take you to Lisbon to shoot you?
Patrick: Jesus, you took the words right out of my mouth.
Man: I can help you. Give me the box?
Patrick: And if I do?
Man: You will be rich.
Patrick: And if I don't?
Man: You will be dead.
Patrick: Hmm... well, you're having the best of the argument so far.

Dragomirov: [in camp, alarmed at the sound] Sh! Horses!
Patrick: [gets up, takes his rifle and calls the men to arms] Company! Stand to!
[the soldiers form line and wait, ready to fire their guns]
Richard: [appears on horseback, together with the rescued Marie Angelique, facing all the rifles aimed at them] I weren't expecting *flags*, but I thought to find a warmer welcome than *this*!

Wellington: I think you're a rogue, Sharpe. But you're on my side and one of my rogues. I don't want you dead.

Dutch: [speaking in Dutch to his men] No! No! You can shoot better than that!

Richard: [standing with Harper in front of the new soldiers, at the beginning of drill instructions, with Lord Kiely watching and listening on his horse and wearing his his shiny white coat] We've killed officers in blue coats, red coats, even officers in white coats!... A bad officer is better off dead, and a good soldier had better learn how to kill him!

Leroy: [he has just seen Sharpe talking with Colonel Lawford] You and the young lord twins, or what?
Richard: We spent three months chained in a cell in India. He had a page of the Bible. In three months he taught me how to read and write. How can you pay back a man who teaches you how to write your own name, Captain?

Khande: [about India] This culture was here long before you, and will doubtless be here long after you are gone.

Richard: Like as not, Dragomirov will be upon us tomorrow. It's here or nowhere.
Patrick: Ah, it's as fine a place as any. - Though I had hoped to see Ramona again.
Richard: And shall, Pat. And *shall*!

Major: [referring to 'collateral'] In every enterprise, there is always... *spoilage*!

Leroy: [about Sharpe] We have to stop him!
Patrick: You can't stop Captain Sharpe, sir! You can walk away from him, or you can stand behind him. But don't ever try to get in his way!

Lord: I find myself in your debt, so to speak.
Lady: Major Sharpe seems very determined.
Lord: How did he perform? Was he... churlish? Ardent? Hasty? Bruising? Grateful?

Richard: That rifle's loaded and rammed, Sergeant.
Hakeswill: Sir?
Richard: Did you know, Sergeant?
Hakeswill: Me, sir? No, sir, never, sir!
Richard: This yours, Sergeant?
Hakeswill: No, sir. Not me, sir. Him, sir. Private 'Arper, sir!
Richard: Well how many more are loaded?
[puts rifles under Hakeswill's chin, pulls trigger, nothing happens]
Richard: Harris!
[throws him the rifle]
Richard: Cooper! Hagman! Perkins!
[threatens Hakeswill with Harper's volley gun]
Richard: They say you can't be killed, Sergeant Hakeswill. It is known. 'Come with me, my lads, for I cannot die. I'm going to live for ever, for they tried to hang me once but did... not... do it.' I could almost believe it. Except in the case of someone you tried to kill, Sergeant Hakeswill... and did... not... do it. I wonder who that might be, Sergeant. You're a dead man, Obadiah. BANG!

Patrick: [to the men, who are all drunk] Bless all here! - Right, lads! Fall in! We've a bit of a bridge to blow up!

Richard: So... the Chosen Men, eh? Well, I didn't choose you. But I know you, you and your kind, all my life. All I know is how to fight. So if there's any man among you expecting a quick ramble through this war, now's the time.
[No one speaks up]
Richard: You're sure, now? Right! Join the column, at the double!

Nairn: He may already be dead.
Harper: You tried that one before, sir.

Hagman: What's that noise?
Harris: Snoring. Frogs snoring!

Richard: I'll be lucky to get away with a court martial!

Nairn: [re: the Marquesa] Did he interrogate her?
Patrick: [deadpan] He was at her all night.

Richard: Name?
Cooper: Cooper, sir.
Richard: Where you from, Cooper?
Cooper: Shoreditch, sir.
Richard: Previous employment?
Cooper: By way of a trader, sir. In... property and the like.
Richard: Would that be other people's property, Cooper?

Harris: I'll trade you a Voltaire, and a filthy book by the Marquis De Sade, for your Sir Augustus, sir.

General: [staring at the head sent by Khande Rao] They killed with a nail, McRae. A nail! Driven into his *skull!*
Patrick: He was, general, but not by any hammer. This is the work of jettis. Professional strongmen: killing people in interesting ways is part of their remit.

Sgt. Rodd: The only money I take off the Frenchmen is like this
[turns to the looters]
Sgt. Rodd: 'Wait for me!'

William: I like to give a fellow Englishman a proper salute. You are English, aren't you?
Leonard: Yes, sir, from N-N-Norfolk, sir.
William: Good. Too many damned Scots in the Company these days. Have you noticed that? Too many Scots and Irish, glib sorts of fellow, they are. But then they aren't English, are they? Not English at all.

Richard: [sees Kelly for the first time] I know you!
Kelly: [astonished] Do you?
Richard: [thoughtful] Battle of Talavera. I'll have your name in a tick...
Sgt. Obadiah Hakeswill: No names for the firing squad, Sharpy!
[turns to Kelly]
Sgt. Obadiah Hakeswill: Strip her!
Kelly: [backs away] Let the Frogs do it.

Patrick: Dragomirov's troops are well seasoned. And what's more, they outnumber us 6 to 1.
Richard: Good rifleman's odds.
Patrick: Aye. Except we got no bloody riflemen!

Wellington: If Sharpe is found not guilty, the Spanish will never believe us or trust us again. They want justice.
Nairn: I think they should get it, sir... whatever the verdict.

Countess: [to Teresa, referring to Sharpe] You're lucky to have him.
Teresa: He's lucky to have me.

Richard: It was either him or me, and I'm glad it weren't me. - If it's any comfort, he got no more or less than his deserving!

Calvet: [to Sharpe] For a change, Englishman, you and I will be on the same side. We are allies. Except that I am a General of Imperial France and you are a piece of English toadshit, which means that I give the orders and you obey them like a lily white-arsed conscript. So stop gawping like a novice nun in a gunners' bathhouse and tell me where we're going!

General: [on Ducos] In Russia, we ate men like him for breakfast.
[He and Gaston laugh]

Richard: [Lerory has just told Sharpe Simmerson's order not to "dawdle in the rear"] Right, lads... if we can't dawdle in the rear, we may as well dawdle in the front.
Harper: Took the words right out of me mouth, sir.

General: For a horse dealer, Mr. Harper, you seem remarkably well informed!
Patrick: Well sir you see, a horse dealer picks up more round and about, than just shit on his boots, sir.

Prince: How'd you do?
Major: [nervous] Eh?... Your Majesty...
Prince: What d'you say? What d'you say? Did you say 'eh'?
[turns to entourage]
Prince: He said 'eh'!
[he and entourage laugh]
Prince: What are you doing in rifle green if you're South Essex? Ain't they red?
Major: Y-yes sir, your majesty sir...
Prince: [beckons Sharpe forward] Come up, come up.
[Sharpe approaches]
Prince: Now look Sharpe!
[he laughs]
Prince: May I call you Dick?
Major: Uh... honoured sir.
Prince: Call me... well call me your royal Highness, but damn me the honour is entirely mine, Dick!

Richard: If it's gratitude you're after, you've joined the wrong army.

Marie: You mean to leave me here? In the company of common soldiers!
Richard: Good practice, I'd have thought. You're set to marry one aren't you?
Marie: Major Joubert is a gentleman.
Richard: Aye, well God help him.

Richard: [Starting the rifle drill of his new men] Right, let's get to work! - And Mr. Denny, if you see any man doing anything not in the manual...
Denny: I take his name, sir?
Richard: Give him half a pint of rum on the spot, Mr. Denny!

Colonel: Did you think you could hide from me?
Jane: I'm sorry...
Colonel: Sorry that you ran away or sorry that I found you?

Major: Your regiment's to be broken up.
Major: What!
Major: Lord Fenner suggested your men be given to other battalions, that your colours be sent home, and that your officers either exchange their regiments, sell their commissions, or make themselves available for our disposal.

Colonel: [Leroux breaks for it] He breaks his parole, and kills an eighteen year old boy!
Richard: Don't worry sir, we'll go in and get him tomorrow.
Colonel: Tomorrow! I'm going in tonight, Sharpe! I want to see that bastard dead by dawn.

Richard: [on the eve before battle] I need you to stand firm, Jenkins! There'll be time enough to repent when the killing's done.

Munro: [Translating for El Casco] "I do not kill Englishmen."
Wellington: Ah.That's a relief.
Munro: Not for the Scots.

Munro: [to Sharpe] 'Washed in the blood of the lamb you should be', not just the blood of the French!

Wellesley: [after Sharpe has just saved his life] I'm much obliged to you. You did me a damn good turn. Now I'm going to do you a damn bad one - I'm giving you a field commission, Sharpe! From now on you're a lieutenant in the 95th.

Major: Bloody day, Sharpe, bloody day.
[hands him a flask]
Major: How many have you lost?
Major: [over the cannon fire] Thirty today sir.
Major: And how many have you got left?
Major: Hundred and twenty can still do duty. Eighty six still in strength. But maimed or sick, though, they'll be made to go to hospitals.
Major: You're expecting replacements of course?
Major: Yes sir.
Major: From the Second Battalion, Chelmsford?
[Hands Sharpe a letter]
Major: Lord Fenner, Secretary of State at War, works for the Secretary of State of War, doesn't know what a war is, of course. Politicians, Sharpe, they're not fit to lick your jakes out!
Major: [looks at the letter] What am I supposed to see, sir?
Major: Down at the bottom, some mention of the South Essex.
Major: [reads] Second Battalion now a Holding Battalion.
Major: Few boys perhaps. Good man waiting on replacement if you're lucky.
Major: [reads further] No draft available.
[Looks up]
Major: But there were eight recruiting parties last I heard!
Major: It can't be black and white, Fenner's said you've got no replacements, so there you are.

Davi: [Sharpe is asking him to steal from two merchants] But that would be stealing sahib. How am I to be a good British soldier if you make me into a thief again?
Richard: It isn't thieving when you're hungry, Davi. That's the first thing any soldier learns. Now go on.

Richard: No apologies about your men?
Frederickson: Men are dirty, rifles are clean. Sir.

Macduff: [after Sharpe saved his life in battle] I don't know who you are, but Thank You!

General: You should be wary of this one, McRae. He thinks because Wellington raised him up from the sewer that it somehow makes him a gentleman. Don't know your place, do you Sharpie?
Richard: Maybe not, but I know how to stand before a French column. I know how to face fire without soiling my breeches and turning tail.

Cooper: Can I ask you a question, sir? Where'd you learn to fight so dirty, sir?
Richard: Same place as you, Cooper. Saturday night in the gutters.
Cooper: Long way from home, sir.
Richard: Never was much of a home, Cooper.
Cooper: No, sir. That it weren't.
Richard: Did you volunteer for this lot, Cooper?
Cooper: Uh no, not exactly sir. I was invited to join... by a magistrate.

Richard: [commenting on people changing] Nothing wrong with *me*!
Patrick: Amen to that!

Richard: [eulogizing the dead Major Lennox] At a place called Assaye I saw an army about to turn and run. One Major stepped forward and steadied the line. He saved us. Major Lennox, 78th Scottish Highlanders.
[He turns away]
Denny: [long pause, then to Captain Leroy] I thought he was just an old man!

Richard: [Preparing to bleed a horse] Keep the bugger still, Pat!

Richard: [Leroux claims he can't speak English] See if you understand this, on the count of three I'm gonna kick you in the crotch!

Richard: [Rallying the South Essex] I'm your colours. I Am.

Marie: [First lines] You, soldier. Dance with me.
Richard: I do not dance.
Marie: Do not, sir? Or cannot?
Richard: Will not.

Sir: I gave the task to my second-in-command. First mistake.

Richard: Come smartly to attention now. Atten-SHUN!
[Obadiah stands up straight - and Sharpe belts him, hard. Hakeswill bows over]
Sgt. Patrick Harper: Oh, now see, you don't move when an officer's talking to you. You should know that.
Richard: Unless you want to hit me, Obadiah?
Sgt. Patrick Harper: Obadiah?
Richard: Dead, if you strike an officer, Obadiah. Dead. Oh... but he can't die. See his neck? They tried to hang him once, and it didn't kill him.
Teresa: I can kill him.
Richard: In every battle some try. Look how he stands up. Never disobeys an officer, do you, Obadiah? Why, they love him! I would kill him here and now. Except I swore to do it in front of his victims, for all to see. It's been a long time coming. For he is *evil*, is Obadiah!

Teresa: We have two ears, but only one mouth; so a good leader will listen twice as much as he shouts.

Patrick: [giving Sharpe a 'first hand' report] I heard that straight from the horse's mouth! A gallopper of the 'Roast and Boiled', who'd heard it first hand from a 'Wallopping Mick' of the 'Six Skins', who saw them Prussians with his own eyes, so he did!

Cresson: Don't forget I made you what you are. And I can destroy you.

[while Loup is holding Lucy as a hostage, he tries to rape her. She smashes a bottle over his head, pushing him away. He brushes glass out of his hair and laughs]
Loup: What are you going to do with that, my lady? Kill me?
[She holds the bottle to her own neck]
Lady: You will not defile me, sir. On my child's life, you will not.
[Loup pauses, uncertain. He takes a step toward her, and she nicks herself, drawing blood]
Lady: I will do it, as God sees me.
[pause]
Loup: [sighs] My men will show you to your chamber.

Wellington: We're in! By the living God we're in!

Marriott: They treat us like animals! We're not animals, we're men!
Major: We're not. We're soldiers now.

Captain: The men hate digging.
Richard: Wouldn't you?
Captain: [Awkward] I have never dug.

Colonel: [on Wellesley] God, Hogan. Horse, foot, cannon... the French outnumber us three to one. Does he know something we don't?
Maj. Hogan: He knows three things, Lawford. He knows that on his left, the French will not attack the fort. He knows that on his right, Simmerson will run. And he knows that in the center, that Daddy Hill will stand. Means nothing to me either, Lawford. That's why he's a general, and we ain't.

Rifleman Hagman: [recording target scores] Miss Nugent, dead center. Major, you're off center five.
Lt. Ayres: Damn it, should have wagered a hundred.
Patrick: Oh the book's still open, sir.
Lt. Ayres: Right then, raise it.
Patrick: [writes a note] An even hundred you have, sir.

Hakeswill: What's to happen is, you will become proper soldiers. And draw tunics of the red bright light company of the South Essex, and you will hand in your precious rifle guns and draw proper muskets to go along with being proper dressed. Fit for soldiers at last!
[speaks into his hat]
Hakeswill: Never thought you'd see it, did you, Mother?
[speaks to men]
Hakeswill: You hate me, don't you? Well, I hate you.
[speaks into his hat again]
Hakeswill: I do, I do, I do. I hates 'em!
[rounds on men]
Hakeswill: Who said that? I heard that. Mad? Oh, no, I ain't mad. Not so's I don't know.

Kelly: [about Sharpe] I stood with him for a few seconds at the battle of Talavera when he took an Eagle off the Frogs. Not that he'd remember. Officers don't see lower ranks.

Rifleman Cooper: [Gazing in horror at Badajoz] It's time to go mad!

Rebeque: [Rebeque is talking to Sharpe about the Prince of Orange and his whores, when there is large bang] That's his boots!

Richard: [Dodd slashes Sharpe across the stomach during their duel] I thought this were just practicing!
William: You're holding back. Is that how you'll fight the redcoats when it comes to close quarters? Test me, man! Test me!

Wormwood: It's him or us, boys. Him or us.

Richard: [referring to the Chosen Men] Where the blazes are they, Harper?
Patrick: They're hornin', sir. I told them once, I told them a thousand times, not to go hornin'. Why, says I, if you're desperate to hold on to something, hold a bottle! - It's not the best advice, sir...
Richard: You bloody old bishop! What's it matter if they're pissed or poxed, as long as they can fight!

Richard: Well done, Mr. Gilliand! I'll be damned if we don't reach the moon some day with one of your blasted rockets!

Sharpe: [he sees from his window that Pat is flirting with a young lady] Pat! What are you doing?
Harper: Just carrying out orders, sir. Nosey told us to fraternize with the local population.
Sharpe: Well in the future, when you fraternize with the local women, make sure they're women over forty!

Jane: Why would you follow him to the death?
Harris: Loyalty! We're loyal to him and he's loyal to us. In life and in death. We trust him with our lives and he trusts us with his life.
Jane: And with his wife. He trusts you with his wife.

Gudin: [about the British force besieging them] The door of opportunity is closing, Madame. If the rains come, they will have to abandon the campaign until the autumn.
Madhuvanthi: You sound almost eager to avoid the confrontation.
Gudin: I have never walked away from a battle, Madame. Neither have I run toward one. Like any soldier, I wish for peace, and prepare for war.

William: [Cecilia is bathing, and Dodd has snuck in] I trust your new quarters are more to your liking!
Celia: [surprised, Cecilia hides her body] General Dodd!
[Recovers herself]
Celia: I hardly think it proper for you to be alone in a woman's quarters!
William: Fortunately, madam, there lies a region in which I am well traveled.
Celia: What is it you want?
William: Merely to ask after your comfort.
Celia: To the best of my knowledge, sir, you were once an officer in the British army.
William: It was the East India Company in which I serve. But let's not split hairs over such trifling matters. Your point?
Celia: My point, sir, is that if any vestige of gentlemanly conduct you absorbed while in British company remains, I would urge you to act upon it.
William: [grins] Alas, madam, these past years I find I'm moved by impulses far more... corporeal.
Celia: If I understood you were right the other evening, general, you made a gift of me to the rajah.
William: What of it?
Celia: Nothing. I am merely imagining his disappointment to find that his gift had already been unwrapped!
William: [frowns in anger for a moment] Any man would wish you health under his Highness. For he'll take more care in its opening than I will!
[walks out, leaving Celia speechless]

Maj. Hogan: Do you know anything about art, Richard? - Rubens, Boticelli...?
[puts up an unidentifiable drawing. Sharpe and Harper look at it, blankly]
Richard: What the devil is it, sir?
Maj. Hogan: It's a map of Spain! - Oh, sorry, it's upside down... Makes no difference either way!

Rifleman Perkins: [the riflemen are telling jokes and laughing] I got one for you! Where does Napoleon keep his armies?
Rifleman Harris: I don't know, Perkins. Where does Napoleon keep his armies?
Rifleman Perkins: Up his sleevies!
[the riflemen laugh]

Will: I'm most grateful for this young man. He saved us all.
Lord: It's what he does. Isn't it, Sharpe.

Ross: Good to see you, Septimus.
Pyecroft: I wish I could say the same.

Richard: [examining the Rocket Troop] Very consistent, Lieutenant. Ten salvos and you've missed every time.

Major: Still alive, Ted Carew?
Sgt. Ted Carew: Permission to speak, still journeying, sir. You'll be kind to remember I was with you at Tallyvera. Where I left me leg and drew up a lackery one!

Richard: [is helping Hagman through the marsh, and winces] Damn knee! Old leg wound, Hagman. Rain plays the devil with it!
Rifleman Hagman: Aye. Brown paper and paraffin oil is the only cure for a contrary leg!

Richard: Bad powder! Good trick, that. I'll remember that one.
William: Be sure that you do.

Harper: Chosen Men are men of honour! Men who fight any enemy to the death, but still bury them!

Father: If he were a dog, I'd shoot him. But God in his mercy is sending him a fever: soon he'll feel nothing. He'll be dead by dawn.

Wellington: [Watching the common soldiers celebrating] Scum of the earth, Nairn.
Nairn: But what damn fine fellows we made of them, sir!
Wellington: Quite.

Patrick: [watches Sharpe get slapped by a noblewoman] Still have your way with the ladies, then?

[During Sir Henry's toast at a dinner party in camp]
Countess: I'm getting some air. Good night, Major. Enjoy yourself.
Maj. Hogan: [whispering] I will! I've laid ten guineas with Leroy that Sir Henry will talk for a full hour. Five minutes more, and I'll have won my bet.

Sgt. Lynch: [sees the fat sergeant running after his men] They too fast for ya?
Sgt. Horatio Havercamp: Piss thy britches!

Nairn: Ducos is a very bad boy. Has the ear of Bonaparte himself. Where Ducos rides, dirty work is soon to follow.

Lt. Ayres: [indicating Hagman] Is he truly your best man?
Patrick: Oh he surely is. That man could shoot a pimple off your nose, without breaking the skin!

[as the French artillery commence fire, beginning the Battle of Waterloo]
Uxbridge: [lifting a glass of sherry] Gentlemen, I give you today's fox.

Richard: [sees that Lass is only wearing her shift] Good God, Lass, go put some clothes on!
Patrick: She hasn't got any clothes.
Richard: Well tell Ramona to go get her some, damn you!
Patrick: I asked her! She told me to shag off.

Calvet: How do I divide the cheese, by merit or by rank?Who gets the biggest piece?
Sharpe: You do.
Calvet: Because I am a general.
Sharpe: No, because I bloody hate cheese.

Hakeswill: Come to show these lazy bastards how it's done, sir?

Richard: For once in your life do as you're damn well told!

Patrick: I've been a soldier too long. You know how it is.

Lord: [about the French Marshal's advance] I misjudged him. He's quicker than I thought.
Major: The man's a genius!
Lord: [indignantly] I think not. We can't have 2 geniuses in the peninsula!

William: You see my love? The British will soon lie scattered across the plains, and Fattagar will be ours!

Richard: Sooner an honest murderer, than a man should steal from his mates.

Major: Perfect! We've sent a regicide to train a palace guard!

Wellington: The Prince of Orange. They wanted to give him command over me. Better counsel prevailed.

Patrick: O'Rourke! I'll find you, O'Rourke!
[a group of the renegade Irish appear, and Harper blasts them with his volley gun. Only O'Rourke is left standing]
O'Rourke: Sergeant Harper... you know I've no quarrel with a fellow Irishman.
[He raises his musket and pulls the trigger. It clicks empty]
Patrick: A good soldier always looks after his weapon, Private O'Rourke.
[O'Rourke yells and charges with his bayonet. Harper disarms him and spins him around]
Patrick: O'Rourke, this one's for Perkins...
[stabs him]
Patrick: This one's for Ireland...
[stabs him again]
Patrick: And this one's for me!
[stabs him one last time. O'Rourke falls, dead]

Harper: [Referring to a specific soldier] Sir, he's got the...
[whispers 'pox' in Sharpe's ear]
Sharpe: Pox! What are you whispering for Harper? I think I've seen plenty of pox in my time!

Wellesley: Sharpe, I can make you a captain, but I cannot keep you a captain. There is talk of an imperial eagle, Sharpe. There is talk of a promise made to the late Major Lennox. Swear to me on oath that the talk is just idle gossip, Sharpe, or by God, sir, you will walk out of that door a lieutenant.
Richard: I swear on oath tha no one heard me make a promise in respect of an imperial eagle to Major Lennox, sir.
Wellesley: Colonel Lawford?
Colonel: Sir?
Wellesley: You may escort Captain Sharpe to the door, Colonel Lawford.

Richard: [after knocking Bickerstaff to the ground] Next time I give an order, you bloody jump to. Understand?
Sgt: [groans incomprehensibly; as Sharpe walks away, he pulls a knife from his boot and charges]
Patrick: [notices the ambush] Richard!
Richard: [Sharpe turns and headbutts him in the face] Come at me with a knife, will ya? You little gutless bastard!
[pummels him before being pulled off by Harper]
Richard: Had enough, Shadrach?

Richard: [gives two fingers to the Prince of Orange] Royal twat!

Aide: Should I serve sherry to the Spanish officers, sir?
Wellington: Damn it, Stokeley, it's an execution, not a bloody christening.

Richard: These people were farmers, Pat. No threat to anyone. Where's the profit in it?

[Perkins is badly wounded]
Perkins: [sobs] Sorry, Sarge!
Patrick: You're gonna be all right, lad.
Perkins: Dan! Dan! Give me a tune, Dan!
Hagman: [sings] O'er the hills, and o'er the main, to Flanders, Portugal and Spain, King George commands and we obey...
Perkins: [sobs] Mother!
Patrick: She's with ya, lad! Mothers never leave you!
Perkins: [sobbing] I'm sorry, Sarge...
[he dies]
Patrick: Oh, my God... Oh, my God... Nobody touches O'Rourke! That bastard's mine!

Rifleman Hagman: Daniel Hagman, poacher.
Richard: You a good shot, then, Hagman?
Rifleman Hagman: Aye, I can shoot, sir.
Richard: Go on, then. Show me.
[He pulls a beret out of Hagman's belt, and tosses it into the air. Hagman fires his rifle. Sharpe picks up the beret and shows him the hole in it]
Richard: You've defaced the King's uniform, Hagman. I could put you up on a charge for that.

Maggie: [staring at Sharpe's diamonds] You're a lucky one! And to think when I first saw you I didn't know whether to drown you or eat you, you were that skinny!

Richard: [Wants to kill Hakeswill's son] Stand aside Pat.
Patrick: Can't let you do it.
Richard: Stand aside, damn you!
Patrick: You'll have to put me down first.

Rifleman Tongue: Isiah Tongue, sir!
Richard: Yes, I know that. Where you from, Tongue?
Rifleman Tongue: [mumbling] No, sir...
Richard: Speak up, man!
Rifleman Tongue: Don't know, sir!
Richard: What about your family?
Rifleman Tongue: Don't know, sir!
Richard: Previous employment?
Rifleman Tongue: Army, sir. Just army.

Isabella: Voltaire says, I have no morals, yet I am a very moral person. And that's how I think I am.
Richard: That's how I think you are, too.

Ensign: It was my father that captured Jourdan's staff!

Jane: I hate the bugle because I hate the army. Because I hate the war.
Sharpe: We all hate the war.
Jane: No you don't you love it!
Sharpe: I'm a soldier.
Jane: What will you do when you get home, Richard? You'll still be a soldier, but there won't be a war. And if there's no war then you won't be happy. What will you do all day?
Sharpe: Well, what every officer does. What every husband does. Whatever that is...
Jane: I'll tell you what they do, Richard. They ride, they hunt, they gamble, they play cards, they look after their gardens, their dogs, their libraries. They wine and dine and make polite conversation. They cut a figure in society.

Patrick: [On hearing about Sharpe's new commission to Yorkshire] Sure... Who's there to fight in Yorkshire?
Richard: Englishmen, I suppose.
Patrick: It's not all bad news, then.

[Harper, framed by Hakeswill for theft, is being flogged]
Drummer: Ninety-three! Ninety-four! Ninety-five!
[Harper has spit out his gag and is grinning widely as the lash lands]
Drummer: Ninety-six! Ninety-seven! Ninety-eight! Ninety-nine! One hundred! One hundred and all's done, sir!
[Harper is released. Still grinning, he starts to walk away]
Colonel: Harper? Come back here.
Sgt. Patrick Harper: Sir?
Colonel: You're a brave man. I salute you for it.
[He tosses Harper a golden guinea. Harper catches it]
Sgt. Patrick Harper: Thank you, sir. Thank you.
[He walks past Sharpe]
Richard: You all right?
[Harper's grin remains, but his voice quavers]
Sgt. Patrick Harper: [whispering] Jesus, it hurts like hell! I couldn't have taken much more.

Richard: [looks at the mass of rebels] You see what I see, Pat?
Patrick: You know, sometimes I wish I was blind. Looks like a bloody army to me.
Richard: Not just that. Look at their uniforms.
Patrick: Good God! There's French with them.
Richard: Spanish and Portuguese too. When word of this gets out, we can kiss goodbye to discipline back home!

Lord: [about Sharpe] Simmerson calls him a bastard son of a peasant whore. Does he intrigue you, Anne?

Patrick: [Trying to pass his stone] Come on, flow like the Liffey!

Parfitt: [after meeting Sharpe for the first time] What d'you think of him, George?
Wickham: Rides like a peasant, dresses like a peasant, eats like a peasant. Fights like the devil.

Major: You may kill me, but if, by His Good Grace, Colonel Sharpe still lives, upon his cold steel shall you answer for your offenses... Betrayal is your creed, not mine!

Sharpe: Sorry about keeping you from the rest of the camp. But I have my reasons.
Pyecroft: No need to apologize, Sharpe. I'm used to being on my own.
Sharpe: [reveals that he brought along Pyecroft's beloved as a stowaway, to Pyecroft's surprise] Well you won't be on your own tonight.
Pyecroft: ...thank you Sharpe.

La: You saved my life.
Richard: You tried to end mine.
La: I've never met you.
Richard: Well, do you hear that, Pat? She's never met me.
Patrick: You're bleeding, sir. Don't move.
Richard: What about my shameful suggestions?
La: What?
Richard: Oh, she's denying me now, Pat. After all we've been through.
Patrick: I hear her, sir.
Richard: You think she'd remember the man who got down on his knees, drunk mind you, and crawled on her floor begging Her Ladyship to sleep with her. Bugger!
Patrick: I'd remember it.
Richard: Aye! So would I. The man lost his honour because of the lady's lies. Stripped of his rank... hung on a rope.
La: Who are you?
Richard: You know who I am. My name is Sharpe.

Richard: Those men who've fought in a big battle before, one pace forward.
[no one moves]
Richard: This place is called Talavera. There's going to be a battle here tomorrow. You'll fight in it... maybe even die in it. But you won't see it.
[explosion]
Richard: There's a lot of smoke in a battle. Our cannon, their cannon. Our shot, their shell. Our volleys, their volleys.
[shots]
Richard: You don't see a battle. You *hear* it. Black powder blasting by the ton on all sides. Black smoke blinding you and choking you and making you vomit. Then the French come out of the smoke - not in a line, but in a column. And they march towards our thin line, kettledrums hammering like hell and a golden eagle blazing overhead. They march slowly, and it takes them a long time to reach you, and you can't see them in smoke. But you can hear the drums. They march out of the smoke, and you fire a volley. And the front rank of the column falls, and the next rank steps over them, with drums hammering, and the column smashes your line like a hammer breaking glass... and Napoleon has won another battle. But if you don't run - if you stand until you can smell the garlic, and fire volley after volley, three rounds a minute - then they slow down. They stop. And then they run away. All you've got to do is stand, and fire three rounds a minute. Now, you and I know you can fire three rounds a minute. But can you stand?

Bess: For God's sake there's enough black sheep in our family to fill a field! Whoring and swindling, but Will isn't one of them. And as for your wife Kitty and her tribe...
Lord: Bess what is this for?
Bess: Let me go too, and find him.
Lord: No you will not. You will be removed from here, in the opposite direction, disarmed and obedient.

[Gibbons plans to challenge Sharpe to a duel]
Maj. Hogan: Oh, give me your hand, sir! You're a brave fellow, Gibbons! Sharpe's a killer! Killed three French cavalrymen and saved Wellesley's life - three seconds, slash, cut thrust! And that was when he was still a sergeant. Shall we say six o'clock tomorrow morning, in the field behind the camp?
[Gibbons swallows, plainly terrified]
Maj. Hogan: Or should we say it was damn dark, and you made a damn bad mistake?
Gibbons: Silly mistake. Say no more about it, eh?
Maj. Hogan: Good thinking, Gibbons. Sharpe would have shot out your left eye at a minute past six, and you'd have spent all day tomorrow looking up at nothing with the other.

Khande: [referring to the Brahmins] They say the rains are coming very soon.
William: Not too soon, Your Highness. Or how else will we swill the plain clean of English blood?

Patrick: Come on now lads... three to one? That's not fair odds.
Richard: They don't want fair odds, Pat.

Rifleman Reilly: [during night watch] What would you like most in the world, Robinson?
Rifleman Robinson: A woman. And you?
Rifleman Reilly: A drink!
Rifleman Robinson: I'll give you a drink for a woman!
Rifleman Reilly: I'll give you a woman for a drink!

Richard: [examining the Indian guns] Rusted dog screw. Would you say this is good enough, Corporal Harper?
Patrick: That I wouldn't, Sergeant. No, that I wouldn't!

Crosby: Who the devil are you?
William: Major William Dodd -
[shoots Crosby]
William: - at your service!

Richard: Sgt. Hakeswill...
Hakeswill: Permission to speak, sir!
[pause]
Hakeswill: I've nothing to say, sir.
[drops voice]
Hakeswill: Oh my word, what a surprise... Sharpie.
Richard: You are come to me?
Hakeswill: Ever such a long way. I was despairing.
Richard: LEFT FACE!
[Hakeswill obeys automatically]
Richard: QUICK MARCH!
[Hakeswill walks forward until he is facing the wall. Sharpe grabs his head and mashes his face into the wall]
Richard: You lay a finger on any of my men, Sgt., and I'll bloody kill you.

Patrick: [Last lines] You know what they say!
Richard: What?
Patrick: Vive la France!

Wellington: [after Sharpe told him that Napoleon has tricked Wellington with a ruse] Humbugged! Damn well Humbuggered!

[the Chosen Men are preparing to prevent Sharpe from hanging]
Sgt. Patrick Harper: Perkins, Hagman, kill anyone who tries to stop us.
[They nod]
Sgt. Patrick Harper: Let's go.
Capt. Peter D'Alembord: You will stay *exactly* where you are!
Sgt. Patrick Harper: [belligerently] Says who?
[more respectfully]
Sgt. Patrick Harper: Sir?
Capt. Peter D'Alembord: Wellington.
[the entire Light Company surrounds the Chosen Men]

Richard: [to the girl] I'll be back soon, Lass. And when I come back, I want you in my *bed*.
[Sees Harris looking up from the campfire]
Richard: - I mean, I'll sleep *out here*!

Sir: [Raving mad] We must save the harvest!

Harper: I wouldn't want to be caught dead in the same grave as you.

Sgt. Connelly: [watching over a British soldier who is dying of his wounds] Die easy boy. Don't delay: do it now.

General: You make me feel...
La: ...sixty again?
[both laugh]
General: Oh, you have a wicked tongue!

Harper: [discussing Sharpe's depression] He needs a good battle.
Ramona: He needs a good woman.
Harper: He had one, but he lost her. He went and lost her, so he did.

Madhuvanthi: You must take me with you!
William: Why? You mean nothing to me!

Runciman: [referring to the Irish soldiers] Thump 'em! Thump 'em hard! That's the only cure for papism! Or else, a burning at the stake!

General: A battle's no place for private vengeance, Captain. Not when there's a job to be done.
Mohan: Sir, whether I fight for my blood, or for the sake of his Britannic Majesty, a dead bandit is a dead bandit!
General: Very well, if you're so resolved, I suppose you must go.
Mohan: Thank you sir.

Richard: [he's just cornered Rossendale in a wood, broken Rossendale's pistol and sword and and made him write a promissory note] You're not worth fighting. You want her? I'll sell her to you. What we do where I come from, we take our faithless wives to market, put a rope around their necks and bid for 'em! You pig-bastards do that! My lord?
Rossendale: [terrified] I don't know.
Richard: You don't know? I know.
[he takes a length of cord from his saddlebag]
Richard: Here's the rope.
[he throws it at Rossendale, who barely manages to catch it]

Ducos: The war is over, Sharpe; apparently not for you.

Man: There are two Spains, Lieutenant. My brother's Spain is a monastery - Silence and superstition. My Spain is a court - Science and scholarship. If you were Spanish, which would you choose?
Richard: I'm neither monk nor prince. So I would choose a tavern.

Hakeswill: Company, atten-shun! Come to show these lazy bastards how it's done, sir?
[Sharpe throws up a salute, "accidentally" knocking Hakeswill into the trench with his elbow]
Richard: Carry on, Sergeant.

Catherine: The cellar. It is full of oyster shells. Burn them.
[walks away]
Sharpe: Oyster shells?

Patrick: [points his volley gun at Bickerstaff] Say hello to Mr Nock!

Trumper: [In court] The 'sword practice'...
Major: Please, refer to the duel as... well, the 'duel'!

Richard: Will they fight?
Chitu: They are *farmers*.
Richard: So were I once. - There comes a time a man has to decide whether he *stands* to protect what he holds dear or bows himself under another's will.

Sarah: Don't worry. I'm married to a French colonel. We fell in love before this war began. He's a brave man and he'll come for me soon, I know he will.
Isabella: I'm married to an English colonel. He's a coward, and he won't come at all.

[Munro is playing bagpipes from inside his tent. Sharpe talks to a Highland soldier guarding the entrance]
Richard: How can you stand it?
[the soldier shakes his head, not understanding]
Richard: [yelling] How can you stand it?
[the soldier grins and takes a ball of cotton wool out of his ear]

[the Prince of Orange rides to Wellington's side]
Prince: Good day to you. We're fighting Boney, you know. Indeed we are. This day, at the cross roads of Quartre Bras... He's been seen.
Wellington: [skeptically] Has he been?
Prince: We're holding the woods, I do believe... yes.
Uxbridge: [looks around] Where are your men?
Prince: Fighting... fighting.
[the Dutch troops stream past, clearly running away]
Uxbridge: I stand corrected, highness. I know very little about uniforms, other than me own, but I could have sworn these was yours as is running. Ain't they?
Prince: [draws his sword] Some of them, Lord Uxbridge, some of them.
[spurs after them]
Prince: Come back here, you cowards!
Wellington: I never mind men running as long as they come back.

Richard: What do you want?
Paulette: More pay would be nice.

Madame: Are you hungry, Richard?
Richard: I'm starving!
Madame: What is your favourite French dish?
Richard: Ah... 'coque au vin'.
Madame: That's because it's the only one you know?
Richard: No. I Iike it because it has wine in it.
Madame: It has chicken in it, too!

Major: [he has just finished a bagpipe solo] Which would you prefer me to do, Sharpe? Play Beallagh na Bruga, that's the Munro march... or send you on a dangerous mission?
Richard: Dangerous mission, sir.
Major: Who's winning the war, Sharpe?
Richard: Wellington, sir.
Major: Why's he winning it, Sharpe?
Richard: Steady troops, sir.
Major: Superior intelligence, Sharpe. Supplied by whom, laddie?
Richard: Men like you, sir.
Major: [disgusted:] Och, don't *lick* me, laddie!

Munro: [to Sharpe] You're in black trouble, Laddie!
Richard: How bad is it?
Munro: Well, I could use words like 'dire' and 'dreadful', but I would not wish to cheer you up!

Mohan: Where are you going?
Richard: [points at the scene of the massacre] After the bastards that did this, where do you think?

Major: This is sinful gambling, and I will have no part of it! I'm here to see fair play!
Patrick: It's only sinful, sir, if you lose.

Wellington: Your Regiment, Sharpe!
Richard: Prince of... South Essex! ADVANCE!
[regiment walks off towards the French]
Richard: South Essex Charge!

Gilliand: Please, sir! I must protest, sir! My rockets are being robbed of their powder! I really must protest, sir!
Richard: It's either that or wear a dress, Rocket Man.

Sharpe: Bloody French on one side, partisans on the other... and we're stuck here with the woman who had me hung.
Harper: God does work in mysterious ways.

Richard: *One blade*, Dragomirov - warranted never to fail!

Maj. Hogan: Ambition and romance is a poisonous brew. And I mean to distill one from the other.
[...]
Maj. Hogan: Oh, believe me, Richard, I've drunk of the cup. And its intoxication I can well remember!
Richard: I can hold my drink, sir.
Maj. Hogan: See that you do, Sharpe. See that you do!

Marie: Having been the daughter to a soldier, I care little for the profession.

Major: [teaching survival in the army to a new recruit] Keep your gub shut. Never look an officer, sergeant, or corporal in the eye. Say nothing but 'Yes, sir', 'No, sir'. Keep very clean. And you'll live!

Wellesley: The South Essex is stood down in name. If I wipe the name away, I may wipe the shame. I am making you a Battalion of Detachments, you will fetch and carry. The Light Company put up a fight, so I will let it stand under the command of a new captain.
[he returns his attention to his papers]
Sir: [a slight hope] To be commanded by the newly-gazetted... Captain Gibbons, sir?
Wellesley: [looks up at him] To be commanded by the newly-gazetted Captain *Sharpe*, sir.

Patrick: There must be something you can do for him, Father!
Father: I'm a priest: I pray for him.
Patrick: Is that the best you can do for him?

Witherspoon: [taking out a notebook] What time?
Richard: What?
Witherspoon: What time did it stop? The cannonade. I have it as ten minutes of midday, but the Duke likes it accurate, you see.
Richard: What time is it now?
Witherspoon: Oh, uh...
[fumbles with his pocketwatch]
Witherspoon: Four minutes after midday, save a few...
Richard: You'd best write down that they're coming, then.
Witherspoon: Coming?
Richard: The French are advancing.
[Witherspoon looks into the woods, where a huge French column is advancing]
Witherspoon: Ah, so they are. Thank you, my dear fellow, I might have missed that.

Maj. Gen. Ross: Horse Guards will heed to know about Col. Brand, sir.
Wellington: Tell them he died a 'hero's death', ad let's get o with the war!

Teresa: You never stopped me from doing what I had to do. That's why I loved you so much.

[riding in the coach with Sharpe and Teresa, Mr. and Mrs. Parker check that they are asleep, then Mr. Parker lights up a cigar and passes it to his wife, who drags contentedly. Sharpe wakes up, and Mr. Parker hurriedly takes the cigar back]
Richard: I didn't know a Methodist smoked.
Mr. Parker: Oh, it's, uh, for my lungs.
[Sharpe drifts back asleep. Mr. Parker says something under his breath in Yiddish. Mrs. Parker replies in the same language, and Louisa smothers a giggle]

Richard: [glares at his riflemen] Now listen. I'm in charge here. Not them, not Harper; I'm in command. You follow me.

Richard: It's a right bloody mess. Simmerson's attack failed, Khande Rao's men are still all over the woods - and Gudin has recommended me for a medal for my part in the victory.
Patrick: Well, it wasn't an entirely unprofitable evening, then!

General: Sharpe! I see time has done nothing to improve a want of etiquette in you. Still the same, whore-mongering, gutter trash of memory!
Richard: Aye, and you're still the same cruel, flogging bastard!
General: Cruel, sir? I calls it discipline!

Ellie: Daddah?
Will: [speaks nonsense]
Ellie: Daddah! Daddah, who am I? You know me!
Will: [continues nonsense]

Kiely: [after being stabbed by Loup] You have killed me, sir.

Lt. Colonel Girdwood: Morning Smith.
Capt. Smith: Sir.
Lt. Colonel Girdwood: Sgt. Havercamp came in this morning. What did he bring?
Capt. Smith: Twenty-four men, sir.
Lt. Colonel Girdwood: Any Irish fest their ranks?
Capt. Smith: One, sir.
Lt. Colonel Girdwood: Lynch. Set Sgt. Lynch to squad them!

El: You must count the ways of your death.
Sharpe: The dead don't count, El Matarife.

Sir: Are you the fellow that Wellington raised from the ranks, Sharpe?
Richard: Yes sir.
Sir: Yes, well I always thought it was a bad idea, and now I've got proof of it!

Mother: I hope you are well.
La: I hope you're in excruciating pain.
Mother: Father Hacha has told me of your deep desire to repent.
La: I haven't sinned enough yet.

Richard: You want me to go back to India?

Doggett: [to the Prince of Orange] You, sir, are a silk stocking full of shit.

Wellington: You think there may be something in those rockets, Sharpe?
Richard: Not as to accuracy, sir, but they'll play merry hell with the morale of poorly-led men, sir. The sound is shocking.
Wellington: Scared you, did they?
Richard: I was terrified, sir.
Sir: Do, uh, do you really think this Sharpe's the right man to send, sir? Won't cut and run if someone lets off a gun, will he?
Teresa: Who is this fool?

Berry: [attacking Sharpe] This is going to hurt quite a bit, old boy.
Patrick: [comes up behind him] So will this, old boy.
[kills Berry]

[after Sharpe is believed to be hanged]
Capt. Peter D'Alembord: Damn waste, Harper.
Patrick: It was damn murder, sir.

Patrick: Sweet is the silent mouth, Cooper.
Cooper: Didn't say a word, did I?

Wellington: [the Prince Regent wants Sharpe appointed major] It seems Sharpe has friends at court too Colonel, though in London, not in Lisbon.

Colonel: [Sharpe quotes Voltaire in French] You told me you didn't speak French.
Richard: I lied. My wife taught me: she taught me many things. Above all how to say goodbye.
[grabs Ducos]
Richard: Someday, I'll say goodbye to you!

Doggett: [to the Prince of Orange] You did it again! Colonel Sharpe said you would do it again, and you did! All those men dead because you wanted to get out? You coward!
Rebeque: Doggett! His Royal Highness cannot be called a coward.
Doggett: No, dammnit. No, not cowardice, not that. Just so he can dance and prance, and make high cockalorum, while men die? Horribly? It is too much, I declare, too much! I shall say it!
Doggett: [after a second] You sir, are a silk stocking full of shit!

Maj. Gen. Ross: [to Sharpe] You're damn impudent, but you're absolutely right!

Colonel: Tally-ho, Sharpe! Flush em out!

[Brand is found guilty of six murders. After being goaded by Brand, Sharpe hits him in the chest and he falls back into a deep well to his death]
Ross: Did you see that, Harper?
Harper: Who me, sir? No, I saw nothing, sir.
Ross: Did you see what happened to Col. Brand?
Harper: Oh, he's a funny fish, sir. I just saw him jump head-long into the wishing well. Why do you think he'd want to do something like that, sir?
Ross: Thank you, Harper.

Maj. Hogan: And what are your intentions, Sir Arthur?
Wellesley: Why, Hogan, I mean to give the French a damn good thrashing.

Major: What do you do when you're short of cash, Sharpe?
Sharpe: Do without, sir.

Sharpe: [when Reilly is feigning fatigue] What's the matter with him?
Rifleman Robinson: [lying for his friend] Fatigue, sir?
Sharpe: Hm. Looks more like fever to me.
Rifleman Robinson: How can you tell the difference?
Sharpe: It's simple, Robinson. Just take a big long needle, and stick it in his eyeball. If it's fever, he won't feel a thing!
Rifleman Reilly: [jumps up at once, but tries to keep up the act of sudden 'recovery'] Where am I?
Sharpe: You're in a war, Reilly! On one side is you, and on the other side is me! - So you and Robinson are on guard duty tonight. And tomorrow night. And the night after. And when you finish, Reilly, you'll know the difference between fever and fatigue! - Now get in line!
[the riflemen fall in and continue marching]
Rifleman Reilly: [Turns to Robinson when Sharpe is out of earshot] Do you think, would Sharpe have stuck a needle in my eye?
Rifleman Robinson: A *needle*? He ain't got a needle. He'd use a blood *bayonet*!

Major: [after Sharpe just saved his life by shooting two French troopers and threatening the third with his rifle] Good shooting, Sharpe! How the devil did you reload in time to take on that
[last]
Major: fellow?
Sharpe: I was bluffing, sir!
[indicating his rifle]
Sharpe: It was empty.
Major: I'm deeply touched you came after me, dear boy!
Sharpe: I had no choice, sir. I'm getting married tomorrow, and you're giving away the bride!

[repeated line]
Sgt. Lynch: Filth!

Wellington: I'd be obliged if you'd show that fellow Shellington around the camp. I can't spare another officer.
Sharpe: Yes sir.
Wellington: Oh, and Sharpe, you better brace yourself. He's a poet.
Sharpe: Poet, sir? My wife will be delighted.
Wellington: Really? Personally I'd rather call for the surgeon and have him cut off my goddamn foot with a saw.

Lt. Harry Price: [Drunk] Oh! He looks dead to me! Did you slice off his arm? Thought you did, thought I saw.
[Grins, and quickly runs off as fast as he can]

Ducos: Come, Colonel. We've wasted enough time in Adrados. It was a fool's errand in the first place.
Richard: Fool's errand? That man's wife is held hostage, sir! What is he to do?
Ducos: Find another.

Harper: [after Sharpe has faked their deaths] So, er, what do we do with ourselves now that we're no more?

William: What's the matter, Captain? Cat got your T-t-tongue?
[runs Leonard through with his sword]

[Shellington has passed out from seeing the dead bodies]
Ross: What are we going to do with him, Sharpe?
Sharpe: Send him home, sir.
Ross: Home? He'll need an escort.
Sharpe: Send two of Brand's men back with him. They know the terrain. Gives us a perfect excuse for bringing Brand back.
Ross: What if he doesn't want to go back to Wellington's camp?
Sharpe: Oh, he'll want to, sir.
Shellington: [coming around] Where am I?
Sharpe: [to Ross] Might even try to seduce my wife.

Lady: Mister Sharpe, you are most remiss.

Simmerson: The second rule of war, Sharpe, which you'd know if you'd ever learned anything beyond insolence towards your superiors, is: never reinforce failure!
Sharpe: Oh, i know that rule. Though judging by that birchet on your shoulder, it seems *this* army is resolved to prove you its living exception!

Wellington: [concerning the French] We've got them running, Nairn! We're going to chase them out of Spain into France, and drown them in the Channel!

Catherine: If I were a soldier, I would have sworn an oath of loyalty to my Emperor!
Sharpe: I understand.
Catherine: But I am not a soldier.

Richard: Those bloody ignorant female fools!

Richard: [Harper has dragged out the two Frenchmen captured whilst raping women and killing children] Harper!
Patrick: Sir!
Richard: Put them up against the wall. I want a fireing squad ready.
[In responce, all of the riflemen and members of the South Essex form two lines as the squad]

Marriott: [Sharpe has saved him from drowning after he attempts desertion; he is being pulled to shore by Sharpe] No! I must not be flogged! She will not have me! I MUST not be flogged.
Major: [Sgt. Lynch shoots Marriot, to Harper and Sharpe's shock] You will not be now.
Sgt. Major Patrick Harper: [grabs Lynch] Treachurous murdering filth! By God the fact that you're an Irishman is terrible. Terrible!

Hagman: [to the frightened captured French drummer boy] Hey, it's all right, you little bugger! We stopped eating French drummer boys - for they smell!

Leroy: Monarchy or democracy, it makes no difference. Money talks... merit walks.

Richard: Three rules... Sharpe's Rules, by which i regulate the Light Company: First: Fight well, fight hard! Second: Don't get drunk unless i tell you! Third: Steal nothing but from the enemy or when starving!

Patrick: Now there's a woman worth fighting dirty for, sir.

Capt. Murray: [draws his sword] Rifles! To me!

Dragomirov: If I'm for hell, Sharpe, then you are coming with me!

Ducos: You have failed me, priest.
Father: I do not understand.
Ducos: Sharpe is alive. The Marquesa is free. The English come.
Father: [frightened] Sharpe is dead. I saw him hanged.
Ducos: [shoots Hacha] You call me a liar?

Richard: [Skillicorn has been caught by Ayres with a chicken] Look nobody lives here it's deserted!
Lt. Ayres: He's a looter.
[turns to his flunkies]
Lt. Ayres: Hang him!

[Sharpe is asking his men about their pasts]
Sharpe: Well?
Harris: Harris. From Wheatley in Oxfordshire.
Sharpe: And previously?
Harris: A courtier to my lord Bacchus and an unremitting debtor.
Sharpe: You're a rake and a wastrel, Harris. Is there anything you *can* do?
Harris: I can read, sir.

Patrick: [Enters as Sharpe is in the middle of a fight] Hello sir!
Richard: What kept you?
Patrick: I'm a father, sir! A wee little boy! Patrick Jose -...
Richard: [while already exiting] Congratulations, I'll buy you a drink in Vittoria!

Gudin: [intercepting Sharpe and Harper as they are trying to leave] You really must decide whose side you're on, Colonel Sharpe!

Harper: [on the South Essex's musketry] Send them to Ireland. We'd be free in a week.

Teresa: All men should have daughters. It puts honey on their tongues.

Richard: Dodd. 'General Dodd will insist', Gudin said.
Patrick: Who is he?
Richard: The Company renegade you've been trying to find, for one.
Patrick: And for two?
Richard: A murdering bastard.
Patrick: Do you know him?
[Sharpe nods]
Patrick: - Does *he* know *you*?
Richard: He had a lot on his mind that day at Chaselgaon.
Patrick: Chaselgaon? - Shite! I'll take that as a 'Let's hope not', then.