Robert the Bruce (narrator): 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 thrown 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.
Malcolm: I told you to stay.
William: Well, I finished my work. Where are we going?
Malcolm: MacAndrews. He was supposed to fess up when the gathering was
over.
William: Can I come?
Malcolm: No. Go home, boy.
William: But I want to go.
Malcolm: Go home William or you'll the back of my hand.
John: Follow him, William.
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Malcolm: MacAndrews; MacAndrews. Great Jesus!
William: Ah! (screams)
Malcolm: It's all right! William!
John: William!
Malcolm: It's all right. Easy lad.
Dead Page Boy: William!
(in Wallace's house)
Campbell: We fight them!
MacClannough: Every nobleman who had the will to fight was at that meeting.
We can not beat an army.
Malcolm: We do not have to defeat them. Just fight them. Now who's with me.
Campbell (among others): I am, Wallace.
MacClannough: Alright, alright.
Malcolm: Ay.
Malcolm: Where do you think you're going?
William: I'm going with you.
Malcolm: Oh, you're going with, hey? And what are you going to do?
William: I'm gonna help.
Malcolm: Hey, and a good help you'd be, too. But I need you to stay here
and look after the place for me while I'm away.
William: I can fight!
Malcolm: I know. I know you can fight. But it's out wits that make us men.
See you tomorrow.
John: Ha!
Hamish: English!
William: Get down!
Hamish: With your father and brother gone, they'll kill us and burn the
farm.
William: It's up to us, Hamish.
Both boys: Ahhhh! (Throw rocks)
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William: Da? Da?
Campbell: William, come here lad.
(Funeral)
Priest: (speaks Latin)
Argyle: William, I am your uncle, Argyle. You have the look of your mother.
Argyle: We'll stay here tonight. Tomorrow you'll come home with me.
William: I don't want to leave.
Argyle: You didn't want your father to die either, did ya? But it happened.
Did the priest give a poetic benediction? "The Lord bless thee and keep
thee"?
William: It was in Latin.
Argyle: You don't speak Latin? Well that's something we shall have to
remedy, isn't it.
Argyle: The Lord bless thee and keep thee. The Lord cause his light to
shine on thee. The Lord lift up his continence upon thee. And give thee
peace. Amen.
Dead Malcolm: Your heart is free. Have the courage to follow her.
(Campbell plays bagpipes)
William: What are they doing?
Argyle: Saying goodbye in their own way. Playing outlawed tunes on outlawed
pipes. It was the same for me and your daddy, when our father was killed.
(William looks at sword)
Argyle: First, learn to use this (mind), then I'll teach you to use this
(sword).
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Robert the Bruce (narrator): Many years later, Edward the Longshanks, King
of England, supervised the wedding of his eldest son, who would succeed him
to the thrown. As bride for his son, Longshanks had chosen the daughter of
his rival, the King of France. It was widely whispered that for the
princess to conceive, Longshanks would have to do the honors himself. That
may have been what he had in mind all along.
Longshanks: Scotland, my land. The French will grovel to anyone with
strength, but how will they believe our strength when we can not rule the
whole of our own island?
Longshanks: Where is my son?
Isabella: Your pardon, my Lord. He asked me to come in his stead.
Longshanks: I sent for him and he sends you?
Isabella: Shall I leave, my Lord?
Longshanks: If he wants his Queen to rule when I am gone, then by all means
stay, and learn how. Please.
Longshanks: Nobles. Nobles are the key to the door of Scotland. Grant our
nobles lands in the north. Give their nobles estates here in England, and
make them too greedy to oppose us.
Advisor: But sire, our nobles will be reluctant to uproot. New lands mean
new taxes, and they are already taxed for the war in France.
Longshanks: Are they? Are they? The trouble with Scotland is that it's full
of Scots. Perhaps the time has come to reinstitute an old custom. Grant
them prima noctes. First night, when any common girl inhabiting their lands
is married, our nobles shall have sexual rights to her on the night of her
wedding. If we can't get them out, we breed them out. That should fetch
just the kind of lords we want to Scotland, taxes or no taxes.
Advisor: A most excellent idea, sire.
Longshanks: Is it?
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Robert the Bruce (narrator): Now in Edinburgh, gathered the council of
Scottish nobles. Among these was Robert, the 17th Earl of Bruce, the
leading contender for the crown of Scotland.
Robert the Bruce: I hear that Longshanks has granted prima noctes.
Craig: Clearly meant to draw more of his supporters here.
Robert the Bruce: My father believes that we must lull Longshanks into
confidence by neither supporting his decree nor opposing it.
Craig: A wise plan. And how is your father? We missed him at the council.
Robert the Bruce: Ah. His affairs in France keep him long overdue, but he
sends his greetings. And he says that I speak for all the Bruces, and for
Scotland.
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William: (rides home and smells air)
(wedding celebration; music playing)
William: You dropped your rock.
Hamish: Test of manhood.
William: You win.
Hamish: Call it a test of soldiery, then. The English won't let us train
with weapons, so we train with stones.
William: Well, a test of a soldier is not in his arm, it's here (mind).
Hamish: No, it's here (arm)
(Hamish hits William)
William: Hamish?
Hamish: Uh huh.
(drumming, rock throwing contest)
Campbell: Here you go, son. Show him how. Come on! Haha, my boy!
William: That's a good throw.
Hamish: Ay. Ay, it was.
William: I was wondering if you could do that when it matters. As it, as is
matters in battle. Can you crush a man with that throw?
Hamish: I could crush you, like a worm.
William: You could?
Hamish: Ay.
William: Well then do it. Would you like to see him crush me like a worm?
Crowd: Ay!
William: Then do it.
Hamish: You'll move.
William: I will not.
Campbell: He'll move.
(Hamish misses, William hits Hamish)
Campbell: Fine display, young Wallace.
William: You alright? You look a widdy bit shaky.
Hamish: I should have remembered the rocks.
William: Ay, you should have. Get up you big heap. It's good to see you
again.
Hamish: Ay, welcome home.
Girl: William, will you dance with me?
William: Of coarse I will.
(Horses ride in)
English lord: I have come to claim the right of prima noctes. As lord of
these lands, I will bless this marriage by taking the bride into my bed on
the first night of her union.
Scottish man: By God, you will not!
Lord: It is my noble right.
(They ride off with bride).
Smythe: Ha ha. Ha ha.
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(raining, outside of Murron's house)
William: Good evening, sir.
MacClannough: Ah, young Wallace. Grand soft evening, huh?
William: Ay, is that. I was wondering if I might have a word with your
daughter.
MacClannough: What do you want to have a word with her about?
William: Well, ah, Murron, would you like to come and ride with me on this
fine evening?
Mrs. MacClannough: In this? You're out of your mind.
William: Oh, it's good Scottish weather, madam. The rain is fallin'
straight down, well slightly to the side like.
Mrs. MacClannough: She can not go with you.
William: No?
Mrs. MacClannough: No the no, anyway.
William: No the no.
MacClannough: No the no. We'll see you later.
Murron: 'O the weather's just fine. It's hardly raining.
Mrs. MacClannough: Did you no hear what I said? Now get--Murron. It's you
she takes after.
William: How did you know me after so long?
Murron: Why, I didn't.
William: No?
Murron: It's just that I saw you staring at me and I didn't know who you
were.
William: 'O sorry, I suppose I was. Are you in the habit of riding off in
the rain with strangers?
Murron: It was the best way to make you leave.
William: Well, if I can ever work up the courage to ask you again, I'll
send you a written warning first.
Murron: 'O it wouldn't do you much good. I can't read.
William: Can you not?
Murron: no.
William: Well that's something we shall have to remedy, isn't it.
Murron: You're going to teach me to read, then?
William: Ah, if you like.
Murron: Ay.
William: In what language?
Murron: Are you showing off now?
William: That's right. Are you impressed yet?
Murron: No. Why should I be?
William: (in French) Yes. Because every single day I thought about you.
Murron: Do that standing on your head and I'll be impressed.
William: My kilt may fly up but I'll try.
Murron: You certainly didn't learn any manners on your travels.
William: I'm afraid the Romans have far worse manners than I.
Murron: You've been to Rome?
William: Ay, my uncle took me on a pilgrimage.
Murron: What was it like?
William: (in French) Not nearly as beautiful as you.
Murron: What does that mean?
William: Beautiful. But I belong here.
Mrs. MacClannough: Murron, come in now.
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William: Sir, I know it was strange of me to invite Murron to ride last
night, but I assure you I--
Campbell: MacClannough's daughter is another matter. I've come to fetch you
to a meeting.
William: What kind of meeting?
Campbell: The secret kind.
MacClannough: Your meetings are a waste of time, Campbell.
Campbell: Your father was a fighter, and a patriot.
William: I know who my father was. I came back home to raise crops, and God
willing a family. If I can live in peace, I will.
MacClannough: You say you want to stay out of the troubles?
William: Ay.
MacClannough: If you can prove it, you may court my daughter. Until you
prove it, my answer is no.
William: No?
MacClannough: No Wallace, no.
William: Didn't I just prove it?
MacClannough: No.
William: No?
MacClannough: No.
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William: Of coarse, running a farm is a lot of work, but that will all
change when my sons arrive.
Murron: So, you've got children?
William: Well not yet, but I was hoping that you could help me with that.
Murron: So you want me to marry you, then?
William: Well, that's a bit sudden but alright.
Murron: Is that what you call a proposal?
William: I love you. Always have. I want to marry you. Is that a yes?
Murron: Ay, that's a yes.
William: We best hurry. He'll be waiting.
Murron: Wait.
William: Where are you going?
William: What's that?
Murron: You'll see.
William: Father.
William: I will love you my whole life; you and no other.
Murron: And I you; you and no other forever.
Priest: (speaks Latin)
William: When am I gonna see you again? Tonight?
Murron: I can't.
William: Why not?
Murron: My dad's gotten suspicious.
William: Not as suspicious as you (?). When?
Murron: Tonight.
William: Tonight?
Murron: Ay.
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